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diff --git a/.gitattributes b/.gitattributes new file mode 100644 index 0000000..6833f05 --- /dev/null +++ b/.gitattributes @@ -0,0 +1,3 @@ +* text=auto +*.txt text +*.md text diff --git a/3362-0.txt b/3362-0.txt new file mode 100644 index 0000000..1fc1ea2 --- /dev/null +++ b/3362-0.txt @@ -0,0 +1,8907 @@ +The Project Gutenberg EBook of The Kentons, by William Dean Howells + +This eBook is for the use of anyone anywhere at no cost and with +almost no restrictions whatsoever. You may copy it, give it away or +re-use it under the terms of the Project Gutenberg License included +with this eBook or online at www.gutenberg.org + + +Title: The Kentons + +Author: William Dean Howells + +Last Updated: February 25, 2009 +Release Date: August 21, 2016 [EBook #3362] + +Language: English + +Character set encoding: UTF-8 + +*** START OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK THE KENTONS *** + + + +Produced by David Widger + + + + + +THE KENTONS + + +By William Dean Howells + + + + +I. + +The Kentons were not rich, but they were certainly richer than the +average in the pleasant county town of the Middle West, where they had +spent nearly their whole married life. As their circumstances had +grown easier, they had mellowed more and more in the keeping of their +comfortable home, until they hated to leave it even for the short +outings, which their children made them take, to Niagara or the Upper +Lakes in the hot weather. They believed that they could not be so well +anywhere as in the great square brick house which still kept its four +acres about it, in the heart of the growing town, where the trees +they had planted with their own hands topped it on three aides, and a +spacious garden opened southward behind it to the summer wind. Kenton +had his library, where he transacted by day such law business as he had +retained in his own hands; but at night he liked to go to his wife’s +room and sit with her there. They left the parlors and piazzas to their +girls, where they could hear them laughing with the young fellows who +came to make the morning calls, long since disused in the centres of +fashion, or the evening calls, scarcely more authorized by the great +world. She sewed, and he read his paper in her satisfactory silence, or +they played checkers together. She did not like him to win, and when she +found herself unable to bear the prospect of defeat, she refused to let +him make the move that threatened the safety of her men. Sometimes +he laughed at her, and sometimes he scolded, but they were very good +comrades, as elderly married people are apt to be. They had long ago +quarrelled out their serious differences, which mostly arose from +such differences of temperament as had first drawn them together; they +criticised each other to their children from time to time, but they +atoned for this defection by complaining of the children to each other, +and they united in giving way to them on all points concerning their +happiness, not to say their pleasure. + +They had both been teachers in their youth before he went into the war, +and they had not married until he had settled himself in the practice +of the law after he left the army. He was then a man of thirty, and five +years older than she; five children were born to them, but the second +son died when he was yet a babe in his mother’s arms, and there was an +interval of six years between the first boy and the first girl. Their +eldest son was already married, and settled next them in a house which +was brick, like their own, but not square, and had grounds so much less +ample that he got most of his vegetables from their garden. He had grown +naturally into a share of his father’s law practice, and he had taken it +all over when Renton was elected to the bench. He made a show of giving +it back after the judge retired, but by that time Kenton was well on in +the fifties. The practice itself had changed, and had become mainly the +legal business of a large corporation. In this form it was distasteful +to him; he kept the affairs of some of his old clients in his hands, but +he gave much of his time, which he saved his self-respect by calling his +leisure, to a history of his regiment in-the war. + +In his later life he had reverted to many of the preoccupations of his +youth, and he believed that Tuskingum enjoyed the best climate, on +the whole, in the union; that its people of mingled Virginian, +Pennsylvanian, and Connecticut origin, with little recent admixture of +foreign strains, were of the purest American stock, and spoke the +best English in the world; they enjoyed obviously the greatest sum of +happiness, and had incontestibly the lowest death rate and divorce rate +in the State. The growth of the place was normal and healthy; it had +increased only to five thousand during the time he had known it, which +was almost an ideal figure for a county-town. There was a higher average +of intelligence than in any other place of its size, and a wider and +evener diffusion of prosperity. Its record in the civil war was less +brilliant, perhaps, than that of some other localities, but it was +fully up to the general Ohio level, which was the high-water mark of the +national achievement in the greatest war of the greatest people under +the sun. It, was Kenton’s pride and glory that he had been a part of the +finest army known in history. He believed that the men who made history +ought to write it, and in his first Commemoration-Day oration he urged +his companions in arms to set down everything they could remember of +their soldiering, and to save the letters they had written home, so +that they might each contribute to a collective autobiography of the +regiment. It was only in this way, he held, that the intensely personal +character of the struggle could be recorded. He had felt his way to the +fact that every battle is essentially episodical, very campaign a sum of +fortuities; and it was not strange that he should suppose, with his +want of perspective, that this universal fact was purely national and +American. His zeal made him the repository of a vast mass of material +which he could not have refused to keep for the soldiers who brought it +to him, more or less in a humorous indulgence of his whim. But he even +offered to receive it, and in a community where everything took the +complexion of a joke, he came to be affectionately regarded as a crank +on that point; the shabbily aging veterans, whom he pursued to their +workbenches and cornfields, for, the documents of the regimental +history, liked to ask the colonel if he had brought his gun. They, +always give him the title with which he had been breveted at the +close of the war; but he was known to the younger, generation of his +fellow-citizens as the judge. His wife called him Mr. Kenton in the +presence of strangers, and sometimes to himself, but to his children she +called him Poppa, as they did. + +The steady-going eldest son, who had succeeded to his father’s affairs +without giving him the sense of dispossession, loyally accepted the +popular belief that he would never be the man his father was. He joined +with his mother in a respect for Kenton’s theory of the regimental +history which was none the less sincere because it was unconsciously a +little sceptical of the outcome; and the eldest daughter was of their +party. The youngest said frankly that she had no use for any history, +but she said the same of nearly everything which had not directly +or indirectly to do with dancing. In this regulation she had use for +parties and picnics, for buggy-rides and sleigh-rides, for calls from +young men and visits to and from other girls, for concerts, for plays, +for circuses and church sociables, for everything but lectures; and +she devoted herself to her pleasures without the shadow of chaperonage, +which was, indeed, a thing still unheard of in Tuskingum. + +In the expansion which no one else ventured, or, perhaps, wished to set +bounds to, she came under the criticism of her younger brother, who, +upon the rare occasions when he deigned to mingle in the family affairs, +drew their mother’s notice to his sister’s excesses in carrying-on, and +required some action that should keep her from bringing the name, +of Kenton to disgrace. From being himself a boy of very slovenly and +lawless life he had suddenly, at the age of fourteen, caught himself up +from the street, reformed his dress and conduct, and confined himself in +his large room at the top of the house, where, on the pursuits to which +he gave his spare time, the friends who frequented his society, and the +literature which nourished his darkling spirit, might fitly have been +written Mystery. The sister whom he reprobated was only two years his +elder, but since that difference in a girl accounts for a great deal, it +apparently authorized her to take him more lightly than he was able +to take himself. She said that he was in love, and she achieved an +importance with him through his speechless rage and scorn which none +of the rest of his family enjoyed. With his father and mother he had a +bearing of repressed superiority which a strenuous conscience kept from +unmasking itself in open contempt when they failed to make his sister +promise to behave herself. Sometimes he had lapses from his dignified +gloom with his mother, when, for no reason that could be given, he fell +from his habitual majesty to the tender dependence of a little boy, +just as his voice broke from its nascent base to its earlier treble at +moments when he least expected or wished such a thing to happen. His +stately but vague ideal of himself was supported by a stature beyond +his years, but this rendered it the more difficult for him to bear the +humiliation of his sudden collapses, and made him at other times the +easier prey of Lottie’s ridicule. He got on best, or at least most +evenly, with his eldest sister. She took him seriously, perhaps because +she took all life so; and she was able to interpret him to his father +when his intolerable dignity forbade a common understanding between +them. When he got so far beyond his depth that he did not know what +he meant himself, as sometimes happened, she gently found him a safe +footing nearer shore. + +Kenton’s theory was that he did not distinguish among his children. He +said that he did not suppose they were the best children in the world, +but they suited him; and he would not have known how to change them +for the better. He saw no harm in the behavior of Lottie when it most +shocked her brother; he liked her to have a good time; but it flattered +his nerves to have Ellen about him. Lottie was a great deal more +accomplished, he allowed that; she could play and sing, and she had +social gifts far beyond her sister; but he easily proved to his wife +that Nelly knew ten times as much. + +Nelly read a great deal; she kept up with all the magazines, and knew +all the books in his library. He believed that she was a fine German +scholar, and in fact she had taken up that language after leaving +school, when, if she had been better advised than she could have been in +Tuskingum, she would have kept on with her French. She started the first +book club in the place; and she helped her father do the intellectual +honors of the house to the Eastern lecturers, who always stayed with +the judge when they came to Tuskingum. She was faithfully present at the +moments, which her sister shunned in derision, when her father explained +to them respectively his theory of regimental history, and would just, +as he said, show them a few of the documents he had collected. He +made Ellen show them; she knew where to put her hand on the most +characteristic and illustrative; and Lottie offered to bet what one +dared that Ellen would marry some of those lecturers yet; she was +literary enough. + +She boasted that she was not literary herself, and had no use for any +one who was; and it could not have been her culture that drew the +most cultivated young man in Tuskingum to her. Ellen was really more +beautiful; Lottie was merely very pretty; but she had charm for them, +and Ellen, who had their honor and friendship, had no charm for them. No +one seemed drawn to her as they were drawn to her sister till a man came +who was not one of the most cultivated in Tuskingum; and then it was +doubtful whether she was not first drawn to him. She was too transparent +to hide her feeling from her father and mother, who saw with even more +grief than shame that she could not hide it from the man himself, whom +they thought so unworthy of it. + +He had suddenly arrived in Tuskingum from one of the villages of the +county, where he had been teaching school, and had found something to do +as reporter on the Tuskingum ‘Intelligencer’, which he was instinctively +characterizing with the spirit of the new journalism, and was pushing as +hardily forward on the lines of personality as if he had dropped down +to it from the height of a New York or Chicago Sunday edition. The judge +said, with something less than his habitual honesty, that he did not +mind his being a reporter, but he minded his being light and shallow; +he minded his being flippant and mocking; he minded his bringing his +cigarettes and banjo into the house at his second visit. He did not mind +his push; the fellow had his way to make and he had to push; but he did +mind his being all push; and his having come out of the country with as +little simplicity as if he had passed his whole life in the city. He +had no modesty, and he had no reverence; he had no reverence for Ellen +herself, and the poor girl seemed to like him for that. + +He was all the more offensive to the judge because he was himself to +blame for their acquaintance, which began when one day the fellow +had called after him in the street, and then followed down the shady +sidewalk beside him to his hour, wanting to know what this was he had +heard about his history, and pleading for more light upon his plan in +it. At the gate he made a flourish of opening and shutting it for the +judge, and walking up the path to his door he kept his hand on the +judge’s shoulder most offensively; but in spite of this Kenton had +the weakness to ask him in, and to call Ellen to get him the most +illustrative documents of the history. + +The interview that resulted in the ‘Intelligencer’ was the least evil +that came of this error. Kenton was amazed, and then consoled, and then +afflicted that Ellen was not disgusted with it; and in his conferences +with his wife he fumed and fretted at his own culpable folly, and tried +to get back of the time he had committed it, in that illusion which +people have with trouble that it could somehow be got rid of if it could +fairly be got back of; till the time came when his wife could no longer +share his unrest in this futile endeavor. + +She said, one night when they had talked late and long, “That can’t be +helped now; and the question is what are we going to do to stop it.” + +The judge evaded the point in saying, “The devil of it is that all the +nice fellows are afraid of her; they respect her too much, and the very +thing which ought to disgust her with this chap is what gives him his +power over her. I don’t know what we are going to do, but we must break +it off, somehow.” + +“We might take her with us somewhere,” Mrs. Kenton suggested. + +“Run away from the fellow? I think I see myself! No, we have got to stay +and face the thing right here. But I won’t have him about the house any +more, understand that. He’s not to be let in, and Ellen mustn’t see him; +you tell her I said so. Or no! I will speak to her myself.” His wife +said that he was welcome to do that; but he did not quite do it. He +certainly spoke to his daughter about her, lover, and he satisfied +himself that there was yet nothing explicit between them. But she was so +much less frank and open with him than she had always been before that +he was wounded as well as baffled by her reserve. He could not get her +to own that she really cared for the fellow; but man as he was, and old +man as he was, he could not help perceiving that she lived in a fond +dream of him. + +He went from her to her mother. “If he was only one-half the man she +thinks he is!”--he ended his report in a hopeless sigh. + +“You want to give in to her!” his wife pitilessly interpreted. “Well, +perhaps that would be the best thing, after all.” + +“No, no, it wouldn’t, Sarah; it would be the easiest for both of us, I +admit, but it would be the worst thing for her. We’ve got to let it run +along for a while yet. If we give him rope enough he may hang himself; +there’s that chance. We can’t go away, and we can’t shut her up, and we +can’t turn him out of the house. We must trust her to find him out for +herself.” + +“She’ll never do that,” said the mother. “Lottie says Ellen thinks he’s +just perfect. He cheers her up, and takes her out of herself. We’ve +always acted with her as if we thought she was different from other +girls, and he behaves to her as if she was just like all of them, just +as silly, and just as weak, and it pleases her, and flatters her; she +likes it.” + +“Oh, Lord!” groaned the father. “I suppose she does.” + +This was bad enough; it was a blow to his pride in Ellen; but there was +something that hurt him still worse. When the fellow had made sure of +her, he apparently felt himself so safe in her fondness that he did not +urge his suit with her. His content with her tacit acceptance gave the +bitterness of shame to the promise Kenton and his wife had made each +other never to cross any of their children in love. They were ready +now to keep that promise for Ellen, if he asked it of them, rather +than answer for her lifelong disappointment, if they denied him. But, +whatever he meant finally to do, he did not ask it; he used his footing +in their house chiefly as a basis for flirtations beyond it. He began +to share his devotions to Ellen with her girl friends, and not with her +girl friends alone. It did not come to scandal, but it certainly came to +gossip about him and a silly young wife; and Kenton heard of it with +a torment of doubt whether Ellen knew of it, and what she would do; he +would wait for her to do herself whatever was to be done. He was never +certain how much she had heard of the gossip when she came to her +mother, and said with the gentle eagerness she had, “Didn’t poppa talk +once of going South this winter?” + +“He talked of going to New York,” the mother answered, with a throb of +hope. + +“Well,” the girl returned, patiently, and Mrs. Kenton read in her +passivity an eagerness to be gone from sorrow that she would not suffer +to be seen, and interpreted her to her father in such wise that he could +not hesitate. + + + + +II. + +If such a thing could be mercifully ordered, the order of this event had +certainly been merciful; but it was a cruel wrench that tore Kenton from +the home where he had struck such deep root. When he actually came to +leave the place his going had a ghastly unreality, which was heightened +by his sense of the common reluctance. No one wanted to go, so far as +he could make out, not even Ellen herself, when he tried to make her say +she wished it. Lottie was in open revolt, and animated her young men to +a share in the insurrection. Her older brother was kindly and helpfully +acquiescent, but he was so far from advising the move that Kenton had +regularly to convince himself that Richard approved it, by making him +say that it was only for the winter and that it was the best way of +helping Ellen get rid of that fellow. All this did not enable Kenton to +meet the problems of his younger son, who required him to tell what he +was to do with his dog and his pigeons, and to declare at once how he +was to dispose of the cocoons he had amassed so as not to endanger the +future of the moths and butterflies involved in them. The boy was so +fertile in difficulties and so importunate for their solution, that he +had to be crushed into silence by his father, who ached in a helpless +sympathy with his reluctance. + +Kenton came heavily upon the courage of his wife, who was urging forward +their departure with so much energy that he obscurely accused her of +being the cause of it, and could only be convinced of her innocence when +she offered to give the whole thing up if he said so. When he would not +say so, she carried the affair through to the bitter end, and she did +not spare him some, pangs which she perhaps need not have shared with +him. But people are seldom man and wife for half their lives without +wishing to impart their sufferings as well as their pleasures to each +other; and Mrs. Kenton, if she was no worse, was no better than other +wives in pressing to her husband’s lips the cup that was not altogether +sweet to her own. She went about the house the night before closing it, +to see that everything was in a state to be left, and then she came to +Kenton in his library, where he had been burning some papers and getting +others ready to give in charge to his son, and sat down by his cold +hearth with him, and wrung his soul with the tale of the last things she +had been doing. When she had made him bear it all, she began to turn the +bright side of the affair to him. She praised the sense and strength of +Ellen, in the course the girl had taken with herself, and asked him +if he, really thought they could have done less for her than they were +doing. She reminded him that they were not running away from the fellow, +as she had once thought they must, but Ellen was renouncing him, and +putting him out of her sight till she could put him out of her mind. She +did not pretend that the girl had done this yet; but it was everything +that she wished to do it, and saw that it was best. Then she kissed +him on his gray head, and left him alone to the first ecstasy of his +homesickness. + +It was better when they once got to New York, and were settled in an +apartment of an old-fashioned down-town hotel. They thought themselves +very cramped in it, and they were but little easier when they found that +the apartments over and under them were apparently thought spacious for +families of twice their numbers. It was the very quietest place in the +whole city, but Kenton was used to the stillness of Tuskingum, where, +since people no longer kept hens, the nights were stiller than in the +country itself; and for a week he slept badly. Otherwise, as soon as +they got used to living in six rooms instead of seventeen, they were +really very comfortable. + +He could see that his wife was glad of the release from housekeeping, +and she was growing gayer and seemed to be growing younger in the +inspiration of the great, good-natured town. They had first come to New +York on their wedding journey, but since that visit she had always let +him go alone on his business errands to the East; these had grown less +and less frequent, and he had not seen New York for ten or twelve years. +He could have waited as much longer, but he liked her pleasure in the +place, and with the homesickness always lurking at his heart he went +about with her to the amusements which she frequented, as she said, to +help Ellen take her mind off herself. At the play and the opera he +sat thinking of the silent, lonely house at Tuakingum, dark among its +leafless maples, and the life that was no more in it than if they had +all died out of it; and he could not keep down a certain resentment, +senseless and cruel, as if the poor girl were somehow to blame for their +exile. When he betrayed this feeling to his wife, as he sometimes must, +she scolded him for it, and then offered, if he really thought anything +like that, to go back to Tuskingum at once; and it ended in his having +to own himself wrong, and humbly promise that he never would let the +child dream how he felt, unless he really wished to kill her. He was +obliged to carry his self-punishment so far as to take Lottie very +sharply to task when she broke out in hot rebellion, and declared that +it was all Ellen’s fault; she was not afraid of killing her sister; and +though she did not say it to her, she said it of her, that anybody else +could have got rid of that fellow without turning the whole family out +of house and home. + +Lottie, in fact, was not having a bit good time in New York, which she +did not find equal in any way to Tuskingum for fun. She hated the dull +propriety of the hotel, where nobody got acquainted, and every one was +as afraid as death of every one else; and in her desolation she was +thrown back upon the society of her brother Boyne. They became friends +in their common dislike of New York; and pending some chance of bringing +each other under condemnation they lamented their banishment from +Tuskingum together. But even Boyne contrived to make the heavy time +pass more lightly than she in the lessons he had with a tutor, and the +studies of the city which he carried on. When the skating was not good +in Central Park he spent most of his afternoons and evenings at the +vaudeville theatres. None of the dime museums escaped his research, +and he conversed with freaks and monsters of all sorts upon terms of +friendly confidence. He reported their different theories of themselves +to his family with the same simple-hearted interest that he criticised +the song and dance artists of the vaudeville theatres. He became an +innocent but by no means uncritical connoisseur of their attractions, +and he surprised with the constancy and variety of his experience in +them a gentleman who sat next him one night. Boyne thought him a person +of cultivation, and consulted him upon the opinion he had formed that +there was not so much harm in such places as people said. The gentleman +distinguished in saying that he thought you would not find more harm in +them, if you did not bring it with you, than you would in the legitimate +theatres; and in the hope of further wisdom from him, Boyne followed him +out of the theatre and helped him on with his overcoat. The gentleman +walked home to his hotel with him, and professed a pleasure in his +acquaintance which he said he trusted they might sometime renew. + +All at once the Kentons began to be acquainted in the hotel, as often +happens with people after they have long ridden up and down in the +elevator together in bonds of apparently perpetual strangeness. From +one friendly family their acquaintance spread to others until they were, +almost without knowing it, suddenly and simultaneously on smiling and +then on speaking terms with the people of every permanent table in the +dining-room. Lottie and Boyne burst the chains of the unnatural kindness +which bound them, and resumed their old relations of reciprocal censure. +He found a fellow of his own age in the apartment below, who had the +same country traditions and was engaged in a like inspection of the +city; and she discovered two girls on another floor, who said they +received on Saturdays and wanted her to receive with them. They made +a tea for her, and asked some real New Yorkers; and such a round of +pleasant little events began for her that Boyne was forced to call his +mother’s attention to the way Charlotte was going on with the young men +whom she met and frankly asked to call upon her without knowing anything +about them; you could not do that in New York, he said. + +But by this time New York had gone to Mrs. Kenton’s head, too, and +she was less fitted to deal with Lottie than at home. Whether she had +succeeded or not in helping Ellen take her mind off herself, she had +certainly freed her own from introspection in a dream of things which +had seemed impossible before. She was in that moment of a woman’s life +which has a certain pathos for the intelligent witness, when, having +reared her children and outgrown the more incessant cares of her +motherhood, she sometimes reverts to her girlish impulses and ideals, +and confronts the remaining opportunities of life with a joyful hope +unknown to our heavier and sullener sex in its later years. It is this +peculiar power of rejuvenescence which perhaps makes so many women +outlive their husbands, who at the same age regard this world as an +accomplished fact. Mrs. Kenton had kept up their reading long after +Kenton found himself too busy or too tired for it; and when he came +from his office at night and fell asleep over the book she wished him to +hear, she continued it herself, and told him about it. When Ellen began +to show the same taste, they read together, and the mother was not +jealous when the father betrayed that he was much prouder of his +daughter’s culture than his wife’s. She had her own misgivings that she +was not so modern as Ellen, and she accepted her judgment in the case of +some authors whom she did not like so well. + +She now went about not only to all the places where she could make +Ellen’s amusement serve as an excuse, but to others when she could not +coax or compel the melancholy girl. She was as constant at matinees +of one kind as Boyne at another sort; she went to the exhibitions of +pictures, and got herself up in schools of painting; she frequented +galleries, public and private, and got asked to studio teas; she went to +meetings and conferences of aesthetic interest, and she paid an easy +way to parlor lectures expressive of the vague but profound ferment +in women’s souls; from these her presence in intellectual clubs was +a simple and natural transition. She met and talked with interesting +people, and now and then she got introduced to literary people. Once, +in a book-store, she stood next to a gentleman leaning over the same +counter, whom a salesman addressed by the name of a popular author, and +she remained staring at him breathless till he left the place. When she +bragged of the prodigious experience at home, her husband defied her to +say how it differed from meeting the lecturers who had been their guests +in Tuskingum, and she answered that none of them compared with this +author; and, besides, a lion in his own haunts was very different from +a lion going round the country on exhibition. Kenton thought that was +pretty good, and owned that she had got him there. + +He laughed at her, to the children, but all the same she believed that +she was living in an atmosphere of culture, and with every breath she +was sensible of an intellectual expansion. She found herself in the +enjoyment of so wide and varied a sympathy with interests hitherto +strange to her experience that she could not easily make people believe +she had never been to Europe. Nearly every one she met had been several +times, and took it for granted that she knew the Continent as well as +they themselves. + +She denied it with increasing shame; she tried to make Kenton understand +how she felt, and she might have gone further if she had not seen how +homesick he was for Tuskingum. She did her best to coax him and scold +him into a share of the pleasure they were all beginning to have in New +York. She made him own that Ellen herself was beginning to be gayer; +she convinced him that his business was not suffering in his absence and +that he was the better from the complete rest he was having. She defied +him, to say, then, what was the matter with him, and she bitterly +reproached herself, in the event, for not having known that it was not +homesickness alone that was the trouble. When he was not going about +with her, or doing something to amuse the children, he went upon long, +lonely walks, and came home silent and fagged. He had given up smoking, +and he did not care to sit about in the office of the hotel where other +old fellows passed the time over their papers and cigars, in the heat of +the glowing grates. They looked too much like himself, with their air of +unrecognized consequence, and of personal loss in an alien environment. +He knew from their dress and bearing that they were country people, +and it wounded him in a tender place to realize that they had each left +behind him in his own town an authority and a respect which they could +not enjoy in New York. Nobody called them judge, or general, or doctor, +or squire; nobody cared who they were, or what they thought; Kenton did +not care himself; but when he missed one of them he envied him, for +then he knew that he had gone back to the soft, warm keeping of his own +neighborhood, and resumed the intelligent regard of a community he had +grown up with. There were men in New York whom Kenton had met in former +years, and whom he had sometimes fancied looking up; but he did not let +them know he was in town, and then he was hurt that they ignored him. He +kept away from places where he was likely to meet them; he thought that +it must have come to them that he was spending the winter in New York, +and as bitterly as his nature would suffer he resented the indifference +of the Ohio Society to the presence of an Ohio man of his local +distinction. He had not the habit of clubs, and when one of the pleasant +younger fellows whom he met in the hotel offered to put him up at one, +he shrank from the courtesy shyly and almost dryly. He had outlived the +period of active curiosity, and he did not explore the city as he world +once have done. He had no resorts out of the hotel, except the basements +of the secondhand book-dealers. He haunted these, and picked up copies +of war histories and biographies, which, as fast as he read them, he +sent off to his son at Tuskingum, and had him put them away with +the documents for the life of his regiment. His wife could see, with +compassion if not sympathy, that he was fondly strengthening by these +means the ties that bound him to his home, and she silently proposed to +go back to it with him whenever he should say the word. + +He had a mechanical fidelity, however, to their agreement that they +should stay till spring, and he made no sign of going, as the +winter wore away to its end, except to write out to Tuskingum minute +instructions for getting the garden ready. He varied his visits to the +book-stalls by conferences with seedsmen at their stores; and his wife +could see that he had as keen a satisfaction in despatching a rare find +from one as from the other. + +She forbore to make him realize that the situation had not changed, and +that they would be taking their daughter back to the trouble the girl +herself had wished to escape. She was trusting, with no definite hope, +for some chance of making him feel this, while Kenton was waiting with +a kind of passionate patience for the term of his exile, when he came in +one day in April from one of his long walks, and said he had been up to +the Park to see the blackbirds. But he complained of being tired, and he +lay down on his bed. He did not get up for dinner, and then it was six +weeks before he left his room. + +He could not remember that he had ever been sick so long before, and +he was so awed by his suffering, which was severe but not serious, that +when his doctor said he thought a voyage to Europe would be good for +him he submitted too meekly for Mrs. Kenton. Her heart smote her for +her guilty joy in his sentence, and she punished herself by asking if it +would not do him more good to get back to the comfort and quiet of their +own house. She went to the length of saying that she believed his attack +had been brought on more by homesickness than anything else. But the +doctor agreed rather with her wish than her word, and held out that his +melancholy was not the cause but the effect of his disorder. Then she +took courage and began getting ready to go. She did not flag even in the +dark hours when Kenton got back his courage with his returning strength, +and scoffed at the notion of Europe, and insisted that as soon as they +were in Tuskingum he should be all right again. + +She felt the ingratitude, not to say the perfidy, of his behavior, +and she fortified herself indignantly against it; but it was not her +constant purpose, or the doctor’s inflexible opinion, that prevailed +with Kenton at last a letter came one day for Ellen which she showed to +her mother, and which her mother, with her distress obscurely relieved +by a sense of its powerful instrumentality, brought to the girl’s +father. It was from that fellow, as they always called him, and it asked +of the girl a hearing upon a certain point in which, it had just come +to his knowledge, she had misjudged him. He made no claim upon her, and +only urged his wish to right himself with her because she was the one +person in the whole world, after his mother, for whose good opinion he +cared. With some tawdriness of sentiment, the letter was well worded; +it was professedly written for the sole purpose of knowing whether, when +she came back to Tuskingum, she would see him, and let him prove to her +that he was not wholly unworthy of the kindness she had shown him when +he was without other friends. + +“What does she say?” the judge demanded. + +“What do you suppose?” his wife retorted. “She thinks she ought to see +him.” + +“Very well, then. We will go to Europe.” + +“Not on my account!” Mrs. Kenton consciously protested. + +“No; not on your account, or mine, either. On Nelly’s account. Where is +she? I want to talk with her.” + +“And I want to talk with you. She’s out, with Lottie; and when she comes +back I will tell her what you say. But I want to know what you think, +first.” + + + + +III. + +It was some time before they arrived at a common agreement as to what +Kenton thought, and when they reached it they decided that they must +leave the matter altogether to Ellen, as they had done before. They +would never force her to anything, and if, after all that her mother +could say, she still wished to see the fellow, they would not deny her. + +When it came to this, Ellen was a long time silent, so long a time that +her mother was beginning restively to doubt whether she was going to +speak at all. Then she drew a long, silent breath. “I suppose I ought to +despise myself, momma, for caring for him, when he’s never really said +that he cared for me.” + +“No, no,” her mother faltered. + +“But I do, I do!” she gave way piteously. “I can’t help it! He doesn’t +say so, even now.” + +“No, he doesn’t.” It hurt her mother to own the fact that alone gave her +hope. + +The girl was a long time silent again before she asked, “Has poppa got +the tickets?” + +“Why, he wouldn’t, Ellen, child, till he knew how you felt,” her mother +tenderly reproached her. + +“He’d better not wait!” The tears ran silently down Ellen’s cheeks, and +her lips twitched a little between these words and the next; she spoke +as if it were still of her father, but her mother understood. “If he +ever does say so, don’t you speak a word to me, momma; and don’t you let +poppa.” + +“No; indeed I won’t,” her mother promised. “Have we ever interfered, +Ellen? Have we ever tried to control you?” + +“He WOULD have said so, if he hadn’t seen that everybody was against +him.” The mother bore without reply the ingratitude and injustice that +she knew were from the child’s pain and not from her will. “Where is his +letter? Give me his letter!” She nervously twitched it from her mother’s +hand and ran it into her pocket. She turned away to go and put off her +hat, which she still wore from coming in with Lottie; but she stopped +and looked over her shoulder at her mother. “I’m going to answer it, and +I don’t want you ever to ask me what I’ve said. Will you?” + +“No, I won’t, Nelly.” + +“Well, then!” + +The next night she went with Boyne and Lottie to the apartment overhead +to spend their last evening with the young people there, who were going +into the country the next day. She came back without the others, +who wished to stay a little longer, as she said, with a look of gay +excitement in her eyes, which her mother knew was not happiness. Mrs. +Kenton had an impulse to sweep into her lap the lithograph plans of +the steamer, and the passage ticket which lay open on the table before +herself and her husband. But it was too late to hide them from Ellen. +She saw them, and caught up the ticket, and read it, and flung it down +again. “Oh, I didn’t think you would do it!” she burst out; and she +ran away to her room, where they could hear her sobbing, as they sat +haggardly facing each other. + +“Well, that settles it,” said Benton at last, with a hard gulp. + +“Oh, I suppose so,” his wife assented. + +On his part, now, he had a genuine regret for her disappointment from +the sad safety of the trouble that would keep them at home; and on her +part she could be glad of it if any sort of comfort could come out of it +to him. + +“Till she says go,” he added, “we’ve got to stay.” + +“Oh yes,” his wife responded. “The worst of it is, we can’t even go back +to Tuskingum.” He looked up suddenly at her, and she saw that he had not +thought of this. She made “Tchk!” in sheer amaze at him. + +“We won’t cross that river till we come to it,” he said, sullenly, but +half-ashamed. The next morning the situation had not changed overnight, +as they somehow both crazily hoped it might, and at breakfast, which +they had at a table grown more remote from others with the thinning out +of the winter guests of the hotel, the father and mother sat down alone +in silence which was scarcely broken till Lottie and Boyne joined them. + +“Where’s Ellen?” the boy demanded. + +“She’s having her breakfast in her room,” Mrs. Kenton answered. + +“She says she don’t want to eat anything,” Lottie reported. “She made +the man take it away again.” + +The gloom deepened in the faces of the father and mother, but neither +spoke, and Boyne resumed the word again in a tone of philosophic +speculation. “I don’t see how I’m going to get along, with those +European breakfasts. They say you can’t get anything but cold meat or +eggs; and generally they don’t expect to give you anything but bread and +butter with your coffee. I don’t think that’s the way to start the day, +do you, poppa?” + +Kenton seemed not to have heard, for he went on silently eating, and the +mother, who had not been appealed to, merely looked distractedly across +the table at her children. + +“Mr. Plumpton says he’s coming down to see us off,” said Lottie, +smoothing her napkin in her lap. “Do you know the time of day when the +boat sails, momma?” + +“Yes,” her brother broke in, “and if I had been momma I’d have boxed +your ears for the way you went on with him. You fairly teased him to +come. The way Lottie goes on with men is a shame, momma.” + +“What time does the boat sail, momma!” Lottie blandly persisted. “I +promised to let Mr. Plumpton know.” + +“Yes, so as to get a chance to write to him,” said Boyne. “I guess when +he sees your spelling!” + +“Momma! Do wake up! What time does our steamer sail?” + +A light of consciousness came into Mrs. Renton’s eyes at last, and she +sighed gently. “We’re not going, Lottie.” + +“Not going! Why, but we’ve got the tickets, and I’ve told--” + +“Your father has decided not to go, for the present. We may go later in +the summer, or perhaps in the fall.” + +Boyne looked at his father’s troubled face, and said nothing, but Lottie +was not stayed from the expression of her feelings by any ill-timed +consideration for what her father’s might be. “I just know,” she fired, +“it’s something to do with that nasty Bittridge. He’s been a bitter dose +to this family! As soon as I saw Ellen have a letter I was sure it was +from him; and she ought to be ashamed. If I had played the simpleton +with such a fellow I guess you wouldn’t have let me keep you from going +to Europe very much. What is she going to do now? Marry him? Or doesn’t +he want her to?” + +“Lottie!” said her mother, and her father glanced up at her with a face +that silenced her. + +“When you’ve been half as good a girl as Ellen has been, in this whole +matter,” he said, darkly, “it will be time for you to complain of the +way you’ve been treated.” + +“Oh yes, I know you like Ellen the best,” said the girl, defiantly. + +“Don’t say such a thing, Lottie!” said her mother. “Your father loves +all his children alike, and I won’t have you talking so to him. Ellen +has had a great deal to bear, and she has behaved beautifully. If we are +not going to Europe it is because we have decided that it is best not to +go, and I wish to hear nothing more from you about it.” + +“Oh yes! And a nice position it leaves me in, when I’ve been taking +good-bye of everybody! Well, I hope to goodness you won’t say anything +about it till the Plumptons get away. I couldn’t have the face to meet +them if you did.” + +“It won’t be necessary to say anything; or you can say that we’ve merely +postponed our sailing. People are always doing that.” + +“It’s not to be a postponement,” said Kenton, so sternly that no one +ventured to dispute him, the children because they were afraid of him, +and their mother because she was suffering for him. + +At the steamship office, however, the authorities represented that it +was now so near the date of his sailing that they could not allow him to +relinquish his passages except at his own risk. They would try to sell +his ticket for him, but they could not take it back, and they could not +promise to sell it. There was reason in what they said, but if there had +been none, they had the four hundred dollars which Kenton had paid +for his five berths and they had at least the advantage of him in +the argument by that means. He put the ticket back in his pocket-book +without attempting to answer them, and deferred his decision till he +could advise with his wife, who, after he left the breakfast-table upon +his errand to the steamship office, had abandoned her children to their +own devices, and gone to scold Ellen for not eating. + +She had not the heart to scold her when she found the girl lying face +downward in the pillow, with her thin arms thrown up through the coils +and heaps of her loose-flung hair. She was so alight that her figure +scarcely defined itself under the bedclothes; the dark hair, and the +white, outstretched arms seemed all there was of her. She did not stir, +but her mother knew she was not sleeping. “Ellen,” she said, gently, +“you needn’t be troubled about our going to Europe. Your father has gone +down to the steamship office to give back his ticket.” + +The girl flashed her face round with nervous quickness. “Gone to give +back his ticket!” + +“Yes, we decided it last night. He’s never really wanted to go, and--” + +“But I don’t wish poppa to give up his ticket!” said Ellen. “He must get +it again. I shall die if I stay here, momma. We have got to go. Can’t +you understand that?” + +Mrs. Kenton did not know what to answer. She had a strong superficial +desire to shake her daughter as a naughty child which has vexed its +mother, but under this was a stir stronger pity for her as a woman, +which easily, prevailed. “Why, but, Ellen dear! We thought from what you +said last night--” + +“But couldn’t you SEE,” the girl reproached her, and she began to cry, +and turned her face into the pillow again and lay sobbing. + +“Well,” said her mother, after she had given her a little time, “you +needn’t be troubled. Your father can easily get the ticket again; he can +telephone down for it. Nothing has been done yet. But didn’t you really +want to stay, then?” + +“It isn’t whether I want to stay or not,” Ellen spoke into her pillow. +“You know that. You know that I have got to go. You know that if I saw +him--Oh, why do you make me talk?” + +“Yes, I understand, child.” Then, in the imperious necessity of blaming +some one, Mrs. Kenton added: “You know how it is with your father. He is +always so precipitate; and when he heard what you said, last night, it +cut him to the heart. He felt as if he were dragging you away, and this +morning he could hardly wait to get through his breakfast before he +rushed down to the steamship office. But now it’s all right again, and +if you want to go, we’ll go, and your father will only be too glad.” + +“I don’t want father to go against his will. You said he never wanted to +go to Europe.” The girl had turned her face upon her mother again; and +fixed her with her tearful, accusing eyes. + +“The doctors say he ought to go. He needs the change, and I think we +should all be the better far getting away.” + +“I shall not,” said Ellen. “But if I don’t--” + +“Yes,” said her mother, soothingly. + +“You know that nothing has changed. He hasn’t changed and I haven’t. If +he was bad, he’s as bad as ever, and I’m just as silly. Oh, it’s like a +drunkard! I suppose they know it’s killing them, but they can’t give it +up! Don’t you think it’s very strange, momma? I don’t see why I should +be so. It seems as if I had no character at all, and I despise myself +so! Do you believe I shall ever get over it? Sometimes I think the best +thing for me would be to go into an asylum.” + +“Oh yes, dear; you’ll get over it, and forget it all. As soon as you see +others--other scenes--and get interested--” + +“And you don’t you don’t think I’d better let him come, and--” + +“Ellen!” + +Ellen began to sob again, and toss her head upon the pillow. “What shall +I do? What shall I do?” she wailed. “He hasn’t ever done anything bad to +me, and if I can overlook his--his flirting--with that horrid thing, +I don’t know what the rest of you have got to say. And he says he can +explain everything. Why shouldn’t I give him the chance, momma? I do +think it is acting very cruel not to let him even say a word.” + +“You can see him if you wish, Ellen,” said her mother, gravely. “Your +father and I have always said that. And perhaps it would be the best +thing, after all.” + +“Oh, you say that because you think that if I did see him, I should be +so disgusted with him that I’d never want to speak to him again. But +what if I shouldn’t?” + +“Then we should wish you to do whatever you thought was for your +happiness, Ellen. We can’t believe it would be for your good; but if it +would be for your happiness, we are willing. Or, if you don’t think it’s +for your happiness, but only for his, and you wish to do it, still we +shall be willing, and you know that as far as your father and I are +concerned, there will never be a word of reproach--not a whisper.” + +“Lottie would despise me; and what would Richard say?” + +“Richard would never say anything to wound you, dear, and if you don’t +despise yourself, you needn’t mind Lottie.” + +“But I should, momma; that’s the worst of it! I should despise myself, +and he would despise me too. No, if I see him, I am going to do it +because I am selfish and wicked, and wish to have my own way, no matter +who is harmed by it, or--anything; and I’m not going to have it put on +any other ground. I could see him,” she said, as if to herself, “just +once more--only once more--and then if I didn’t believe in him, I could +start right off to Europe.” + +Her mother made no answer to this, and Ellen lay awhile apparently +forgetful of her presence, inwardly dramatizing a passionate scene of +dismissal between herself and her false lover. She roused herself from +the reverie with a long sigh, and her mother said, “Won’t you have some +breakfast, now; Ellen?” + +“Yes; and I will get up. You needn’t be troubled any more about me, +momma. I will write to him not to come, and poppa must go back and get +his ticket again.” + +“Not unless you are doing this of your own free will, child. I can’t +have you feeling that we are putting any pressure upon you.” + +“You’re not. I’m doing it of my own will. If it isn’t my free will, that +isn’t your fault. I wonder whose fault it is? Mine, or what made me so +silly and weak?” + +“You are not silly and weak,” said her mother, fondly, and she bent over +the girl and would have kissed her, but Ellen averted her face with +a piteous “Don’t!” and Mrs. Kenton went out and ordered her breakfast +brought back. + +She did not go in to make her eat it, as she would have done in the +beginning of the girl’s trouble; they had all learned how much better +she was for being left to fight her battles with herself singlehanded. +Mrs. Kenton waited in the parlor till her husband same in, looking +gloomy and tired. He put his hat down and sank into a chair without +speaking. “Well?” she said. + +“We have got to lose the price of the ticket, if we give it back. I +thought I had better talk with you first,” said Kenton, and he explained +the situation. + +“Then you had better simply have it put off till the next steamer. I +have been talking with Ellen, and she doesn’t want to stay. She wants +to go.” His wife took advantage of Kenton’s mute amaze (in the nervous +vagaries even of the women nearest him a man learns nothing from +experience) to put her own interpretation on the case, which, as it was +creditable to the girl’s sense and principle, he found acceptable if not +imaginable. “And if you will take my advice,” she ended, “you will go +quietly back to the steamship office and exchange your ticket for the +next steamer, or the one after that, if you can’t get good rooms, and +give Ellen time to get over this before she leaves. It will be much +better for her to conquer herself than to run away, for that would +always give her a feeling of shame, and if she decides before she goes, +it will strengthen her pride and self-respect, and there will be less +danger--when we come back.” + +“Do you think he’s going to keep after her!” + +“How can I tell? He will if he thinks it’s to his interest, or he can +make anybody miserable by it.” + +Kenton said nothing to this, but after a while he suggested, rather +timorously, as if it were something he could not expect her to approve, +and was himself half ashamed of, “I believe if I do put it off, I’ll +run out to Tuskingum before we sail, and look after a little matter of +business that I don’t think Dick can attend to so well.” + +His wife knew why he wanted to go, and in her own mind she had already +decided that if he should ever propose to go, she should not gainsay +him. She had, in fact, been rather surprised that he had not proposed +it before this, and now she assented, without taxing him with his real +motive, and bringing him to open disgrace before her. She even went +further in saying: “Very well, then you had better go. I can get on very +well here, and I think it will leave Ellen freer to act for herself if +you are away. And there are some things in the house that I want, and +that Richard would be sure to send his wife to get if I asked him, and +I won’t have her rummaging around in my closets. I suppose you will want +to go into the house?” + +“I suppose so,” said Renton, who had not let a day pass, since he left +his house, without spending half his homesick time in it. His wife +suffered his affected indifference to go without exposure, and trumped +up a commission for him, which would take him intimately into the house. + + + + +IV + +The piety of his son Richard had maintained the place at Tuskingum in +perfect order outwardly, and Kenton’s heart ached with tender pain as he +passed up the neatly kept walk from the gate, between the blooming ranks +of syringas and snowballs, to his door, and witnessed the faithful +care that Richard’s hired man had bestowed upon every detail. The grass +between the banks of roses and rhododendrons had been as scrupulously +lawn-mowered and as sedulously garden-hosed as if Kenton himself had +been there to look after its welfare, or had tended the shrubbery as +he used to do in earlier days with his own hand. The oaks which he had +planted shook out their glossy green in the morning gale, and in the +tulip-trees, which had snowed their petals on the ground in wide circles +defined by the reach of their branches, he heard the squirrels barking; +a red-bird from the woody depths behind the house mocked the cat-birds +in the quince-trees. The June rose was red along the trellis of the +veranda, where Lottie ought to be sitting to receive the morning calls +of the young men who were sometimes quite as early as Kenton’s present +visit in their devotions, and the sound of Ellen’s piano, played +fitfully and absently in her fashion, ought to be coming out +irrespective of the hour. It seemed to him that his wife must open +the door as his steps and his son’s made themselves heard on the walk +between the box borders in their upper orchard, and he faltered a +little. + +“Look here, father,” said his son, detecting his hesitation. “Why don’t +you let Mary come in with you, and help you find those things?” + +“No, no,” said Kenton, sinking into one of the wooden seats that flanked +the door-way. “I promised your mother that I would get them myself. You +know women don’t like to have other women going through their houses.” + +“Yes, but Mary!” his son urged. + +“Ah! It’s just Mary, with her perfect housekeeping, that your mother +wouldn’t like to have see the way she left things,” said Kenton, and he +smiled at the notion of any one being housekeeper enough to find a flaw +in his wife’s. “My, but this is pleasant!” he added. He took off his +hat and let the breeze play through the lank, thin hair which was still +black on his fine, high forehead. He was a very handsome old man, with +a delicate aquiline profile, of the perfect Roman type which is perhaps +oftener found in America than ever it was in Rome. “You’ve kept it very +nice, Dick,” he said, with a generalizing wave of his hat. + +“Well, I couldn’t tell whether you would be coming back or not, and I +thought I had better be ready for you.” + +“I wish we were,” said the old man, “and we shall be, in the fall, or +the latter part of the summer. But it’s better now that we should go--on +Ellen’s account.” + +“Oh, you’ll enjoy it,” his son evaded him. + +“You haven’t seen anything of him lately?” Kenton suggested. + +“He wasn’t likely to let me see anything of him,” returned the son. + +“No,” said the father. “Well!” He rose to put the key into the door, and +his son stepped down from the little porch to the brick walk. + +“Mary will have dinner early, father; and when you’ve got through here, +you’d better come over and lie down a while beforehand.” + +Kenton had been dropped at eight o’clock from a sleeper on the Great +Three, and had refused breakfast at his son’s house, upon the plea that +the porter had given him a Southern cantaloupe and a cup of coffee on +the train, and he was no longer hungry. + +“All right,” he said. “I won’t be longer than I can help.” He had got +the door open and was going to close it again. + +His son laughed. “Better not shut it, father. It will let the fresh air +in.” + +“Oh, all right,” said the old man. + +The son lingered about, giving some orders to the hired man in the +vegetable garden, for an excuse, in the hope that his father might +change his mind and ask him to come into the house with him; he felt it +so forlorn for him to be going through those lifeless rooms alone. +When he looked round, and saw his father holding the door ajar, as if +impatiently waiting for him to be gone, he laughed and waved his hand +to him. “All right, father? I’m going now.” But though he treated the +matter so lightly with his father, he said grimly to his wife, as he +passed her on their own porch, on his way to his once, “I don’t like to +think of father being driven out of house and home this way.” + +“Neither do I, Dick. But it can’t be helped, can it?” + +“I think I could help it, if I got my hands on that fellow once.” + +“No, you couldn’t, Dick. It’s not he that’s doing it. It’s Ellen; you +know that well enough; and you’ve just got to stand it.” + +“Yes, I suppose so,” said Richard Kenton. + +“Of course, my heart aches for your poor old father, but so it would if +Ellen had some kind of awful sickness. It is a kind of sickness, and you +can’t fight it any more than if she really was sick.” + +“No,” said the husband, dejectedly. “You just slip over there, after a +while, Mary, if father’s gone too long, will you? I don’t like to have +him there alone.” + +“‘Deed and ‘deed I won’t, Dick. He wouldn’t like it at all, my spying +round. Nothing can happen to him, and I believe your mother’s just made +an excuse to send him after something, so that he can be in there alone, +and realize that the house isn’t home any more. It will be easier for +him to go to Europe when he finds that out. I believe in my heart that +was her idea in not wanting me to find the things for him, and I’m not +going to meddle myself.” + +With the fatuity of a man in such things, and with the fatuity of +age regarding all the things of the past, Kenton had thought in his +homesickness of his house as he used to be in it, and had never been +able to picture it without the family life. As he now walked through the +empty rooms, and up and down the stairs, his pulse beat low as if in the +presence of death. Everything was as they had left it, when they went +out of the house, and it appeared to Kenton that nothing had been +touched there since, though when he afterwards reported to his wife that +there was not a speck of dust anywhere she knew that Mary had been going +through the house, in their absence, not once only, but often, and she +felt a pang of grateful jealousy. He got together the things that Mrs. +Kenton had pretended to want, and after glancing in at the different +rooms, which seemed to be lying stealthily in wait for him, with their +emptiness and silence, he went down-stairs with the bundle he had made, +and turned into his library. He had some thought of looking at the +collections for his history, but, after pulling open one of the drawers +in which they were stored, he pushed it to again, and sank listlessly +into his leather-covered swivel-chair, which stood in its place before +the wide writing-table, and seemed to have had him in it before he sat +down. The table was bare, except for the books and documents which he +had sent home from time to time during the winter, and which Richard or +his wife had neatly arranged there without breaking their wraps. He +let fall his bundle at his feet, and sat staring at the ranks of books +against the wall, mechanically relating them to the different epochs of +the past in which he or his wife or his children had been interested +in them, and aching with tender pain. He had always supposed himself a +happy and strong and successful man, but what a dreary ruin his life had +fallen into! Was it to be finally so helpless and powerless (for with +all the defences about him that a man can have, he felt himself fatally +vulnerable) that he had fought so many years? Why, at his age, should +he be going into exile, away from everything that could make his days +bright and sweet? Why could not he come back there, where he was now +more solitary than he could be anywhere else on earth, and reanimate the +dead body of his home with his old life? He knew why, in an immediate +sort, but his quest was for the cause behind the cause. What had he +done, or left undone? He had tried to be a just man, and fulfil all +his duties both to his family and to his neighbors; he had wished to be +kind, and not to harm any one; he reflected how, as he had grown older, +the dread of doing any unkindness had grown upon him, and how he had +tried not to be proud, but to walk meekly and humbly. Why should he be +punished as he was, stricken in a place so sacred that the effort to +defend himself had seemed a kind of sacrilege? He could not make it out, +and he was not aware of the tears of self-pity that stole slowly down +his face, though from time to time he wiped them away. + +He heard steps in the hall without, advancing and pausing, which must be +those of his son coming back for him, and with these advances and pauses +giving him notice of his approach; but he did not move, and at first +he did not look up when the steps arrived at the threshold of the room +where he sat. When he lifted his eyes at last he saw Bittridge lounging +in the door-way, with one shoulder supported against the door-jamb, his +hands in his pockets and his hat pushed well back on his forehead. In an +instant all Kenton’s humility and soft repining were gone. “Well, what +is it?” he called. + +“Oh,” said Bittridge, coming forward. He laughed and explained, “Didn’t +know if you recognized me.” + +“I recognized you,” said Kenton, fiercely. “What is it you want?” + +“Well, I happened to be passing, and I saw the door open, and I thought +maybe Dick was here.” + +It was on Kenton’s tongue to say that it was a good thing for him +Dick was not there. But partly the sense that this would be unbecoming +bluster, and partly the suffocating resentment of the fellow’s +impudence, limited his response to a formless gasp, and Bittridge went +on: “But I’m glad to find you here, judge. I didn’t know that you were +in town. Family all well in New York?” He was not quelled by the silence +of the judge on this point, but, as if he had not expected any definite +reply to what might well pass for formal civility, he now looked aslant +into his breast-pocket from which he drew a folded paper. “I just got +hold of a document this morning that I think will interest you. I was +bringing it round to Dick’s wife for you.” The intolerable familiarity +of all this was fast working Kenton to a violent explosion, but he +contained himself, and Bittridge stepped forward to lay the paper on +the table before him. “It’s the original roster of Company C, in your +regiment, and--” + +“Take it away!” shouted Kenton, “and take yourself away with it!” and he +grasped the stick that shook in his hand. + +A wicked light came into Bittridge’s eye as he drawled, in lazy scorn, +“Oh, I don’t know.” Then his truculence broke in a malicious amusement. +“Why, judge, what’s the matter?” He put on a face of mock gravity, and +Kenton knew with helpless fury that he was enjoying his vantage. He +could fall upon him and beat him with his stick, leaving the situation +otherwise undefined, but a moment’s reflection convinced Kenton that +this would not do. It made him sick to think of striking the fellow, as +if in that act he should be striking Ellen, too. It did not occur to him +that he could be physically worsted, or that his vehement age would +be no match for the other’s vigorous youth. All he thought was that it +would not avail, except to make known to every one what none but her +dearest could now conjecture. Bittridge could then publicly say, and +doubtless would say, that he had never made love to Ellen; that if there +had been any love-making it was all on her side; and that he had only +paid her the attentions which any young man might blamelessly pay a +pretty girl. This would be true to the facts in the case, though it was +true also that he had used every tacit art to make her believe him in +love with her. But how could this truth be urged, and to whom? So far +the affair had been quite in the hands of Ellen’s family, and they had +all acted for the best, up to the present time. They had given Bittridge +no grievance in making him feel that he was unwelcome in their house, +and they were quite within their rights in going away, and making it +impossible for him to see her again anywhere in Tuskingum. As for his +seeing her in New York, Ellen had but to say that she did not wish it, +and that would end it. Now, however, by treating him rudely, Kenton was +aware that he had bound himself to render Bittridge some account of his +behavior throughout, if the fellow insisted upon it. + +“I want nothing to do with you, sir,” he said, less violently, but, +as he felt, not more effectually. “You are in my house without my +invitation, and against my wish!” + +“I didn’t expect to find you here. I came in because I saw the door +open, and I thought I might see Dick or his wife and give them, this +paper for you. But I’m glad I found you, and if you won’t give me any +reason for not wanting me here, I can give it myself, and I think I can +make out a very good case for you.” Kenton quivered in anticipation of +some mention of Ellen, and Bittridge smiled as if he understood. But he +went on to say: “I know that there were things happened after you first +gave me the run of your house that might make you want to put up the +bars again--if they were true. But they were not true. And I can prove +that by the best of all possible witnesses--by Uphill himself. He stands +shoulder to shoulder with me, to make it hot for any one who couples his +wife’s name with mine.” + +“Humph!” Kenton could not help making this comment, and Bittridge, being +what he was, could not help laughing. + +“What’s the use?” he asked, recovering himself. “I don’t pretend that +I did right, but you know there wasn’t any harm in it. And if there had +been I should have got the worst of it. Honestly, judge, I couldn’t tell +you how much I prized being admitted to your house on the terms I was. +Don’t you think I could appreciate the kindness you all showed me? +Before you took me up, I was alone in Tuskingum, but you opened every +door in the place for me. You made it home to me; and you won’t believe +it, of course, because you’re prejudiced; but I felt like a son and +brother to you all. I felt towards Mrs. Kenton just as I do towards my +own mother. I lost the best friends I ever had when you turned against +me. Don’t you suppose I’ve seen the difference here in Tuskingum? Of +course, the men pass the time of day with me when we meet, but they +don’t look me up, and there are more near-sighted girls in this town!” + Kenton could not keep the remote dawn of a smile out of his eyes, and +Bittridge caught the far-off gleam. “And everybody’s been away the whole +winter. Not a soul at home, anywhere, and I had to take my chance of +surprising Mrs. Dick Kenton when I saw your door open here.” He laughed +forlornly, as the gleam faded out of Kenton’s eye again. “And the worst +of it is that my own mother isn’t at home to me, figuratively speaking, +when I go over to see her at Ballardsville. She got wind of my +misfortune, somehow, and when I made a clean breast of it to her, she +said she could never feel the same to me till I had made it all right +with the Kentons. And when a man’s own mother is down on him, judge!” + +Bittridge left Kenton to imagine the desperate case, and in spite of his +disbelief in the man and all he said, Kenton could not keep his hardness +of heart towards him. “I don’t know what you’re after, young man,” he +began. “But if you expect me to receive you under my roof again--” + +“Oh, I don’t, judge, I don’t!” Bittridge interposed. “All I want is to +be able to tell my mother--I don’t care for anybody else--that I saw +you, and you allowed me to say that I was truly sorry for the pain--if +it was pain; or annoyance, anyway--that I had caused you, and to go back +to her with the hope of atoning for it sometime or somehow. That’s all.” + +“Look here!” cried Renton. “What have you written to my daughter for?” + +“Wasn’t that natural? I prized her esteem more than I do yours even; but +did I ask her anything more than I’ve asked you? I didn’t expect her to +answer me; all I wanted was to have her believe that I wasn’t as black +as I was painted--not inside, anyway. You know well enough--anybody +knows--that I would rather have her think well of me than any one else +in this world, except my mother. I haven’t got the gift of showing out +what’s good in me, if there is any good, but I believe Miss Ellen would +want to think well of me if I gave her a chance. If ever there was an +angel on earth, she’s one. I don’t deny that I was hopeful of mercy from +her, because she can’t think evil, but I can lay my hand on my heart and +say that I wasn’t selfish in my hopes. It seemed to me that it was +her due to understand that a man whom she had allowed to be her friend +wasn’t altogether unworthy. That’s as near as I can come to putting into +words the motive I had in writing to her. I can’t even begin to put +into words the feeling I have towards her. It’s as if she was something +sacred.” + +This was the feeling Renton himself had towards his daughter, and for +the first time he found himself on common ground with the scapegrace +who professed it, and whose light, mocking face so little enforced his +profession. If Bittridge could have spoken in the dark, his words might +have carried a conviction of his sincerity, but there, in plain day, +confronting the father of Ellen, who had every wish to believe him true, +the effect was different. Deep within his wish to think the man honest, +Kenton recoiled from him. He vaguely perceived that it was because she +could not think evil that this wretch had power upon her, and he was +sensible, as he had not been before, that she had no safety from him +except in absence. He did not know what to answer; he could not repel +him in open terms, and still less could he meet him with any words that +would allow him to resume his former relations with his family. He said, +finally: “We will let matters stand. We are going to Europe in a week, +and I shall not see you again. I will tell Mrs. Kenton what you say.” + +“Thank you, judge. And tell her that I appreciate your kindness more +than I can say!” The judge rose from his chair and went towards the +window, which he had thrown open. “Going to shut up? Let me help you +with that window; it seems to stick. Everything fast up-stairs?” + +“I--I think so,” Kenton hesitated. + +“I’ll just run up and look,” said Bittridge, and he took the stairs two +at a time, before Kenton could protest, when they came out into the hall +together. “It’s all right,” he reported on his quick return. “I’ll just +look round below here,” and he explored the ground-floor rooms in turn. +“No, you hadn’t opened any other window,” he said, glancing finally into +the library. “Shall I leave this paper on your table?” + +“Yes, leave it there,” said Kenton, helplessly, and he let Bittridge +close the front door after him, and lock it. + +“I hope Miss Lottie is well,” he suggested in handing the key to Kenton. +“And Boyne” he added, with the cordiality of an old family friend. +“I hope Boyne has got reconciled to New York a little. He was rather +anxious about his pigeons when he left, I understand. But I guess +Dick’s man has looked after them. I’d have offered to take charge of the +cocoons myself if I’d had a chance.” He walked, gayly chatting, across +the intervening lawn with Kenton to his son’s door, where at sight of +him bra. Richard Kenton evanesced into the interior so obviously that +Bittridge could not offer to come in. “Well, I shall see you all when +you come back in the fall, judge, and I hope you’ll have a pleasant +voyage and a good time in Europe.” + +“Thank you,” said Kenton, briefly. + +“Remember me to the ladies!” and Bittridge took off his hat with his +left hand, while he offered the judge his right. “Well, good-bye!” + +Kenton made what response he could, and escaped in-doors, where his +daughter-in-law appeared from the obscurity into which she had retired +from Bittridge. “Well, that follow does beat all! How, in the world did +he find you, father?” + +“He came into the house,” said the judge, much abashed at his failure to +deal adequately with Bittridge. He felt it the more in the presence of +his son’s wife. “I couldn’t, seem to get rid of him in any way short of +kicking him out.” + +“No, there’s nothing equal to his impudence. I do believe he would have +come in here, if he hadn’t seen me first. Did you tell him when you were +going back, father? Because he’d be at the train to see you off, just as +sure!” + +“No, I didn’t tell him,” said Kenton, feeling move shaken now from the +interview with Bittridge than he had realized before. He was ashamed to +let Mary know that he had listened to Bittridge’s justification, which +he now perceived was none, and he would have liked to pretend that he +had not silently condoned his offences, but Mary did not drive him to +these deceptions by any further allusions to Bittridge. + +“Well, now, you must go into the sitting-room and lie down on the +lounge; I promised Dick to make you. Or would you rather go up-stairs to +your room?” + +“I think I’ll go to my room,” said Kenton. + +He was asleep there on the bed when Richard came home to dinner and +looked softly in. He decided not to wake him, and Mary said the sleep +would do him more good than the dinner. At table they talked him over, +and she told her husband what she knew of the morning’s adventure. + +“That was pretty tough for father,” said Richard. “I wouldn’t go into +the house with him, because I knew he wanted to have it to himself; and +then to think of that dirty hound skulking in! Well, perhaps it’s for +the best. It will make it easier, for father to go and leave the place, +and they’ve got to go. They’ve got to put the Atlantic Ocean between +Ellen and that fellow.” + +“It does seem as if something might be done,” his wife rebelled. + +“They’ve done the best that could be done,” said Richard. “And if +that skunk hasn’t got some sort of new hold upon father, I shall be +satisfied. The worst of it is that it will be all over town in an hour +that Bittridge has made up with us. I don’t blame father; he couldn’t +help it; he never could be rude to anybody.” + +“I think I’ll try if I can’t be rude to Mr. Bittridge, if he ever +undertakes to show in my pretence that he has made it up with us,” said +Mary. + +Richard tenderly found out from his father’s shamefaced reluctance, +later, that no great mischief had been done. But no precaution on his +part availed to keep Bittridge from demonstrating the good feeling +between himself and the Kentons when the judge started for New York the +next afternoon. He was there waiting to see him off, and he all but +took the adieus out of Richard’s hands. He got possession of the judge’s +valise, and pressed past the porter into the sleeping-car with it, and +remained lounging on the arm of the judge’s seat, making conversation +with him and Richard till the train began to move. Then he ran outside, +and waved his hand to the judge’s window in farewell, before all that +leisure of Tuskingum which haunted the arrival and departure of the +trains. + +Mary Kenton was furious when her husband came home and reported the fact +to her. + +“How in the world did he find out when father was going?” + +“He must have come to all the through trains since he say him yesterday. +But I think even you would have been suited, Mary, if you had seen his +failure to walk off from the depot arm-in-arm with me: + +“I wouldn’t have been suited with anything short of your knocking, him +down, Dick.” + +“Oh, that wouldn’t have done,” said Richard. After a while he added, +patiently, “Ellen is making a good deal of trouble for us.” + +This was what Mary was thinking herself, and it was what she might have +said, but since Dick had said it she was obliged to protest. “She isn’t +to blame for it.” + +“Oh, I know she isn’t to blame.” + + + + +V. + +The father of the unhappy girl was of the same mixed mind as he rode +sleeplessly back to New York in his berth, and heard the noises of +slumber all round him. From time to time he groaned softly, and +turned from one cheek to the other. Every half-hour or so he let his +window-curtain fly up, and lay watching the landscape fleeting past; and +then he pulled the curtain down again and tried to sleep. After passing +Albany he dozed, but at Poughkeepsie a zealous porter called him +by mistake, and the rest of the way to New York he sat up in the +smoking-room. It seemed a long while since he had drowsed; the thin nap +had not rested him, and the old face that showed itself in the glass, +with the frost of a two days’ beard on it, was dry-eyed and limply +squared by the fall of the muscles at the corners of the chin. + +He wondered how he should justify to his wife the thing which he felt as +accountable for having happened to him as if he could have prevented it. +It would not have happened, of course, if he had not gone to Tuskingum, +and she could say that to him; now it seemed to him that his going, +which had been so imperative before he went, was altogether needless. +Nothing but harm had come of it, and it had been a selfish indulgence of +a culpable weakness. + +It was a little better for Kenton when he found himself with his family, +and they went down together to the breakfast which the mother had +engaged the younger children to make as pleasant as they could for their +father, and not worry him with talk about Tuskingum. They had, in fact, +got over their first season of homesickness, and were postponing their +longing for Tuskingum till their return from Europe, when they would all +go straight out there. Kenton ran the gauntlet of welcome from the black +elevator-boys and bell-boys and the head-waiter, who went before him to +pull out the judge’s chair, with commanding frowns to his underlings +to do the like for the rest of the family; and as his own clumsy Irish +waiter stood behind his chair, breathing heavily upon the judge’s head, +he gave his order for breakfast, with a curious sense of having got home +again from some strange place. He satisfied Boyne that his pigeons and +poultry had been well cared for through the winter, and he told Lottie +that he had not met much of anybody except Dick’s family, before he +recollected seeing half a dozen of her young men at differed times. She +was not very exacting about them and her mind seemed set upon Europe, or +at least she talked of nothing else. Ellen was quiet as she always was, +but she smiled gently on her father, and Mrs. Kenton told him of the +girl’s preparations for going, and congratulated herself on their wisdom +in having postponed their sailing, in view of all they had to do; and +she made Kenton feel that everything was in the best possible shape. As +soon as she got him alone in their own room, she said, “Well, what is +it, poppa?” + +Then he had to tell her, and she listened with ominous gravity. She did +not say that now he could see how much better it would have been if he +had not gone, but she made him say it for her; and she would not let +him take comfort in the notion of keeping the fact of his interview with +Bittridge from Ellen. “It would be worse than useless. He will write to +her about it, and then she will know that we have been, concealing it.” + +Kenton was astonished at himself for not having thought of that. “And +what are you going to do, Sarah?” + +“I am going to tell her,” said Mrs. Kenton. + +“Why didn’t poppa tell me before?” the girl perversely demanded, as soon +as her another had done so. + +“Ellen, you are a naughty child! I have a great mind not to have a word +more to say to you. Your father hasn’t been in the house an hour. Did +you want him to speak before Lottie and Boyne!” + +“I don’t see why he didn’t tell me himself. I know there is something +you are keeping back. I know there is some word--” + +“Oh, you poor girl!” said her mother, melting into pity against all +sense of duty. “Have we ever tried to deceive you?” + +“No,” Ellen sobbed, with her face in her hands. “Now I will tell you +every word that passed,” said Mrs. Kenton, and she told, as well as she +could remember, all that the judge had repeated from Bittridge. “I don’t +say he isn’t ashamed of himself,” she commented at the end. “He ought to +be, and, of course, he would be glad to be in with us again when we go +back; but that doesn’t alter his character, Ellen. Still, if you can’t +see that yourself, I don’t want to make you, and if you would rather go +home to Tuskingum, we will give up the trip to Europe.” + +“It’s too late to do that now,” said the girl, in cruel reproach. + +Her mother closed her lips resolutely till she could say, “Or you can +write to him if you want to.” + +“I don’t want to,” said Ellen, and she dragged herself up out of her +chair, and trailed slowly out of the room without looking at her mother. + +“Well?” the judge asked, impatiently, when he came in as soon after this +as he decently could. They observed forms with regard to talking about +Ellen which, after all, were rather for themselves than for her; Mrs. +Kenton, at least, knew that the girl knew when they were talking about +her. + +“She took it as well as I expected.” + +“What is she going to do?” + +“She didn’t say. But I don’t believe she will do anything.” + +“I wish I had taken our tickets for next Saturday,” said Kenton. + +“Well, we must wait now,” said his wife. “If he doesn’t write to her, +she won’t write to him.” + +“Has she ever answered that letter of his?” + +“No, and I don’t believe she will now.” + +That night Ellen came to her mother and said she need not be afraid of +her writing to Bittridge. “He hasn’t changed, if he was wrong, by coming +and saying those things to poppa, and nothing has changed.” + +“That is the way I hoped you would see it; Ellen.” Her mother looked +wistfully at her, but the girl left her without letting her satisfy the +longing in the mother’s heart to put her arms round her child, and pull +her head down upon her breast for a cry. + +Kenton slept better that night than his wife, who was kept awake by a +formless foreboding. For the week that followed she had the sense of +literally pushing the hours away, so that at times she found herself +breathless, as if from some heavy physical exertion. At such times she +was frantic with the wish to have the days gone, and the day of their +sailing come, but she kept her impatience from her husband and children, +and especially from Ellen. The girl was passive enough; she was almost +willing, and in the preparation for their voyage she did her share of +the shopping, and discussed the difficult points of this business with +her mother and sister as if she had really been thinking about it all. +But her mother doubted if she had, and made more of Ellen’s sunken eyes +and thin face than of her intelligent and attentive words. It was these +that she reported to her husband, whom she kept from talking with Ellen, +and otherwise quelled. + +“Let her alone,” she insisted, one morning of the last week. “What can +you do by speaking to her about it? Don’t you see that she is making the +best fight she can? You will weaken her if you interfere. It’s less than +a week now, and if you can only hold out, I know she can.” + +Kenton groaned. “Well, I suppose you’re right, Sarah. But I don’t like +the idea of forcing her to go, unless--” + +“Then you had better write to that fellow, and ask him to come and get +her.” + +This shut Kenton’s mouth, and he kept on with his shaving. When he +had finished he felt fresher, if not stronger, and he went down to +breakfast, which he had alone, not only with reference to his own +family, but all the other guests of the hotel. He was always so early +that sometimes the dining-room was not open; when this happened, he used +to go and buy a newspaper at the clerk’s desk, for it was too early then +for the news-stand to be open. It happened so that morning, and he got +his paper without noticing the young man who was writing his name in +the hotel register, but who looked briskly up when the clerk bade Kenton +good-morning by name. + +“Why, judge!” he said, and he put out a hand which Kenton took with +trembling reluctance and a dazed stare. “I thought you sailed last +Saturday!” + +“We sail next Saturday,” said Kenton. + +“Well, well! Then I misunderstood,” said Bittridge, and he added: “Why, +this is money found in the road! How are all the family? I’ve got my +mother here with me; brought her on for a kind of a little outing. +She’ll be the most surprised woman in New York when I tell her you’re +here yet. We came to this hotel because we knew you had been here, but +we didn’t suppose you were here! Well! This is too good! I saw Dick, +Friday, but he didn’t say anything about your sailing; I suppose he +thought I knew. Didn’t you tell me you were going in a week, that day in +your house?” + +“Perhaps I did,” Kenton faltered out, his eyes fixed on Bittridge’s with +a helpless fascination. + +“Well, it don’t matter so long as you’re here. Mother’s in the parlor +waiting for me; I won’t risk taking you to her now, judge--right off the +train, you know. But I want to bring her to call on Mrs. Kenton as soon +after breakfast as you’ll let me. She just idolizes Mrs. Kenton, from +what I’ve told her about her. Our rooms ready?” He turned to the +clerk, and the clerk called “Front!” to a bellboy, who ran up and took +Bittridge’s hand-baggage, and stood waiting to follow him into the +parlor. “Well, you must excuse me now, judge. So long!” he said, gayly, +and Kenton crept feebly away to the dining-room. + +He must have eaten breakfast, but he was not aware of doing so; and the +events of his leaving the table and going up in the elevator and finding +himself in his wife’s presence did not present themselves consecutively, +though they must all have successively occurred. It did not seem to him +that he could tell what he knew, but he found himself doing it, and her +hearing it with strange quiet. + +“Very well,” she said. “I must tell Ellen, and, if she wishes, we must +stay in and wait for their call.” + +“Yes,” the judge mechanically consented. + +It was painful for Mrs. Kenton to see how the girl flushed when she +announced the fact of Bittridge’s presence, for she knew what a strife +of hope and shame and pride there was in Ellen’s heart. At first she +said that she did not wish to see him, and then when Mrs. Kenton would +not say whether she had better see him or not, she added, vaguely, “If +he has brought his mother--” + +“I think we must see them, Ellen. You wouldn’t wish to think you had +been unkind; and he might be hurt on his mother’s account. He seems +really fond of her, and perhaps--” + +“No, there isn’t any perhaps, momma,” said the girl, gratefully. “But I +think we had better see them, too. I think we had better ALL see them.” + +“Just as you please, Ellen. If you prefer to meet them alone--” + +“I don’t prefer that. I want poppa to be there, and Lottie and Boyne +even.” + +Boyne objected when he was told that his presence was requested at this +family rite, and he would have excused himself if the invitation had +been of the form that one might decline. “What do I want to see him +for?” he puffed. “He never cared anything about me in Tuskingum. What’s +he want here, anyway?” + +“I wish you to come in, my son,” said his mother, and that ended it. + +Lottie was not so tractable. “Very well, momma,” she said. “But don’t +expect me to speak to him. I have some little self-respect, if the rest +of you haven’t. Am I going to shake hands with him! I never took the +least notice of him at home, and I’m not going to here.” + +Bittridge decided the question of hand-shaking for her when they met. +He greeted her glooming brother with a jolly “Hello, Boyne!” and without +waiting for the boy’s tardy response he said “Hello, Lottie!” to the +girl, and took her hand and kept it in his while he made an elaborate +compliment to her good looks and her gain in weight. She had come +tardily as a proof that she would not have come in at all if she had not +chosen to do so, and Mrs. Bittridge was already seated beside Ellen on +the sofa, holding her hand, and trying to keep her mobile, inattentive +eyes upon Ellen’s face. She was a little woman, youthfully dressed, +but not dressed youthfully enough for the dry, yellow hair which curled +tightly in small rings on her skull, like the wig of a rag-doll. Her +restless eyes were round and deep-set, with the lids flung up out of +sight; she had a lax, formless mouth, and an anxious smile, with which +she constantly watched her son for his initiative, while she recollected +herself from time to time, long enough to smooth Ellen’s hand between +her own, and say, “Oh, I just think the world of Clarence; and I guess +he thinks his mother is about right, too,” and then did not heed what +Ellen answered. + +The girl said very little, and it was Bittridge who talked for all, +dominating the room with a large, satisfied presence, in which the judge +sat withdrawn, his forehead supported on his hand, and his elbow on the +table. Mrs. Kenton held herself upright, with her hands crossed before +her, stealing a look now and then at her daughter’s averted face, but +keeping her eyes from Mrs. Bittridge, who, whenever she caught Mrs. +Kenton’s glance, said something to her about her Clarence, and how he +used to write home to her at Ballardsville about the Kentons, so +that she felt acquainted with all of them. Her reminiscences were +perfunctory; Mrs. Bittridge had voluntarily but one topic, and that +was herself, either as she was included in the interest her son must +inspire, or as she included him in the interest she must inspire. She +said that, now they had met at last, she was not going to rest till the +Kentons had been over to Ballardsville, and made her a good, long visit; +her son had some difficulty in making her realize that the Kentons were +going to Europe. Then she laughed, and said she kept forgetting; and she +did wish they were all coming back to Tuskingum. + +If it is a merit to treat a fatuous mother with deference, Bittridge had +that merit. His deference was of the caressing and laughing sort, which +took the spectator into the joke of her peculiarities as something they +would appreciate and enjoy with him. She had been a kittenish and petted +person in her youth, perhaps, and now she petted herself, after she had +long ceased to be a kitten. What was respectable and what was pathetic +in her was her wish to promote her son’s fortunes with the Kentons, but +she tried to do this from not a very clear understanding of her part, +apparently, and little sense of the means. For Ellen’s sake, rather +than hers, the father and mother received her overtures to their liking +kindly; they answered her patiently, and Mrs. Kenton even tried to lead +the way for her to show herself at her best, by talking of her journey +on to New York, and of the city, and what she would see there to +interest her. Lottie and Boyne, sternly aloof together in one of their +momentary alliances, listened to her replies with a silent contempt +that almost included their mother; Kenton bore with the woman humbly and +sadly. + +He was, in fact, rather bewildered with the situation, for which he felt +himself remotely if not immediately responsible. Bittridge was there +among them not only on good terms, but apparently in the character of a +more than tolerated pretendant to Ellen’s favor. There were passages of +time is which the father was not sure that the fellow was not engaged +to his daughter, though when these instants were gone he was aware that +there had been no overt love-making between them and Bittridge had never +offered himself. What was he doing there, then? The judge asked himself +that, without being able to answer himself. So far as he could make +out, his wife and he were letting him see Ellen, and show her off to +his mother, mainly to disgust her with them both, and because they were +afraid that if they denied her to him, it would be the worse for them +through her suffering. The judge was not accustomed to apply the tests +by which people are found vulgar or not; these were not of his simple +world; all that he felt about Mrs. Bittridge was that she was a very +foolish, false person, who was true in nothing but her admiration of her +rascal of a son; he did not think of Bittridge as a rascal violently, +but helplessly, and with a heart that melted in pity for Ellen. + +He longed to have these people gone, not so much because he was so +unhappy in their presence as because he wished to learn Ellen’s feeling +about them from his wife. She would know, whether Allen said anything +to her or not. But perhaps if Mrs. Kenton had been asked to deliver her +mind on this point at once she would have been a little puled. All that +she could see, and she saw it with a sinking of the heart, was that +Ellen looked more at peace than she had been since Bittridge was last +in their house at Tuskingum. Her eyes covertly followed him as he sat +talking, or went about the room, making himself at home among them, as +if he were welcome with every one. He joked her more than the rest, and +accused her of having become a regular New-Yorker; he said he supposed +that when she came back from Europe she would not know anybody in +Tuskingum; and his mother, playing with Ellen’s fingers, as if they had +been the fringe of a tassel, declared that she must not mind him, for he +carried on just so with everybody; at the same time she ordered him to +stop, or she would go right out of the room. + +She gave no other sign of going, and it was her son who had to make the +movement for her at last; she apparently did not know that it was her +part to make it. She said that now the Kentons must come and return her +call, and be real neighborly, just the same as if they were all at home +together. When her son shook hands with every one she did so too, and +she said to each, “Well, I wish you good-morning,” and let him push her +before him, in high delight with the joke, out of the room. + +When they were gone the Kentons sat silent, Ellen with a rapt smile on +her thin, flushed face, till Lottie said, “You forgot to ask him if +we might BREATHE, poppa,” and paced out of the room in stately scorn, +followed by Boyne, who had apparently no words at the command of his +dumb rage. Kenton wished to remain, and he looked at his wife for +instruction. She frowned, and he took this for a sign that he had better +go, and he went with a light sigh. + +He did not know what else to do with himself, and he went down to the +reading-room. He found Bittridge there, smoking a cigar, and the young +man companionably offered to bestow one upon him; but the judge stiffly +refused, saying he did not wish to smoke just then. He noted that +Bittridge was still in his character of family favorite, and his hand +trembled as he passed it over the smooth knob of his stick, while he +sat waiting for the fellow to take himself away. But Bittridge had +apparently no thought of going. He was looking at the amusements for the +evening in a paper he had bought, and he wished to consult the judge as +to which was the best theatre to go to that night; he said he wanted to +take his mother. Kenton professed not to know much about the New York +theatres, and then Bittridge guessed he must get the clerk to tell him. +But still he did not part with the judge. He sat down beside him, and +told him how glad he was to see his family looking so well, especially +Miss Ellen; he could not remember ever seeing her so strong-looking. He +said that girl had captured his mother, who was in love with pretty much +the whole Kenton family, though. + +“And by-the-way,” he added, “I want to thank you and Mrs. Kenton, judge, +for the way you received my mother. You made her feel that she was among +friends. She can’t talk about anything else, and I guess I sha’n’t have +much trouble in making her stay in New York as long as you’re here. She +was inclined to be homesick. The fact is, though I don’t care to have it +talked about yet, and I wish you wouldn’t say anything to Dick about it +when you write home, I think of settling in New York. I’ve been offered +a show in the advertising department of one of the big dailies--I’m not +at liberty to say which--and it’s a toss-up whether I stay here or go to +Washington; I’ve got a chance there, too, but it’s on the staff of a new +enterprise, and I’m not sure about it. I’ve brought my mother along to +let her have a look at both places, though she doesn’t know it, and I’d +rather you wouldn’t speak of it before her; I’m going to take her on to +Washington before we go back. I want to have my mother with me, judge. +It’s better for a fellow to have that home-feeling in a large place from +the start; it keeps him out of a lot of things, and I don’t pretend to +be better than other people, or not more superhuman. If I’ve been able +to keep out of scrapes, it’s more because I’ve had my mother near me, +and I don’t intend ever to be separated from her, after this, till I +have a home of my own. She’s been the guiding-star of my life.” + +Kenton was unable to make any formal response, and, in fact, he was so +preoccupied with the question whether the fellow was more a fool or +a fraud that he made no answer at all, beyond a few inarticulate +grumblings of assent. These sufficed for Bittridge, apparently, for he +went on contentedly: “Whenever I’ve been tempted to go a little wild, +the thought of how mother would feel has kept me on the track like +nothing else would. No, judge, there isn’t anything in this world like a +good mother, except the right kind of a wife.” + +Kenton rose, and said he believed he must go upstairs. Bittridge said, +“All right; I’ll see you later, judge,” and swung easily off to advise +with the clerk as to the best theatre. + + + + +VI. + +Kenton was so unhappy that he could not wait for his wife to come to him +in their own room; he broke in upon her and Ellen in the parlor, and at +his coming the girl flitted out, in the noiseless fashion which of late +had made her father feel something ghostlike in her. He was afraid +she was growing to dislike him, and trying to avoid him, and now he +presented himself quite humbly before his wife, as if he had done wrong +in coming. He began with a sort of apology for interrupting, but his +wife said it was all right, and she added, “We were not talking about +anything in particular.” She was silent, and then she added again: +“Sometimes I think Ellen hasn’t very fine perceptions, after all. She +doesn’t seem to feel about people as I supposed she would.” + +“You mean that she doesn’t feel as you would suppose about those +people?” + +Mrs. Kenton answered, obliquely. “She thinks it’s a beautiful thing in +him to be so devoted to his mother.” + +“Humph! And what does she think of his mother?” + +“She thinks she has very pretty hair.” + +Mrs. Kenton looked gravely down at the work she had in her hands, and +Kenton did not know what to make of it all. He decided that his wife +must feel, as he did, a doubt of the child’s sincerity, with sense of +her evasiveness more tolerant than his own. Yet he knew that if it +came to a question of forcing Ellen to do what was best for her, +or forbidding her to do what was worst, his wife would have all the +strength for the work, and he none. He asked her, hopelessly enough, “Do +you think she still cares for him?” + +“I think she wishes to give him another trial; I hope she will.” Kenton +was daunted, and he showed it. “She has got to convince herself, and +we have got to let her. She believes, of course, that he’s here on her +account, and that flatters her. Why should she be so different from +other girls?” Mrs. Kenton demanded of the angry protest in her husband’s +eye. + +His spirit fell, and he said, “I only wish she were more like them.” + +“Well, then, she is just as headstrong and as silly, when it comes to a +thing like this. Our only hope is to let her have her own way.” + +“Do you suppose he cares for her, after all?” + +Mrs. Kenton was silent, as if in exhaustive self-question. Then she +answered: “No, I don’t in that way. But he believes he can get her.” + +“Then, Sarah, I think we have a duty to the poor child. You must tell +her what you have told me.” + +Mrs. Kenton smiled rather bitterly, in recognition of the fact that the +performance of their common duty must fall wholly to her. But she merely +said: “There is no need of my telling her. She knows it already.” + +“And she would take him in spite of knowing that he didn’t really care +for her?” + +“I don’t say that. She wouldn’t own it to herself.” + +“And what are you going to do?” + +“Nothing. We must let things take their course.” + +They had a great deal more talk that came to the same end. They played +their sad comedy, he in the part of a father determined to save his +child from herself, and she in hers of resisting and withholding him. +It ended as it had so often ended before--he yielded, with more faith in +her wisdom than she had herself. + +At luncheon the Bittridges could not join the Kentons, or be asked to do +so, because the table held only four, but they stopped on their way to +their own table, the mother to bridle and toss in affected reluctance, +while the son bragged how he had got the last two tickets to be had that +night for the theatre where he was going to take his mother. He seemed +to think that the fact had a special claim on the judge’s interest, and +she to wish to find out whether Mrs. Kenton approved of theatre-going. +She said she would not think of going in Ballardsville, but she supposed +it was more rulable in New York. + +During the afternoon she called at the Kenton apartment to consult the +ladies about what she ought to wear. She said she had nothing but a +black ‘barege’ along, and would that do with the hat she had on? She had +worn it to let them see, and now she turned her face from aide to side +to give them the effect of the plumes, that fell like a dishevelled +feather-duster round and over the crown. Mrs. Kenton could only say that +it would do, but she believed that it was the custom now for ladies to +take their hats off in the theatre. + +Mrs. Bittridge gave a hoarse laugh. “Oh, dear! Then I’ll have to fix my +hair two ways? I don’t know what Clarence WILL say.” + +The mention of her son’s name opened the way for her to talk of him in +relation to herself, and the rest of her stay passed in the celebration +of his filial virtues, which had been manifest from the earliest period. +She could not remember that she ever had to hit the child a lick, she +said, or that he had ever made her shed a tear. + +When she went, Boyne gloomily inquired, “What makes her hair so much +darker at the roots than it is at the points?” and his mother snubbed +him promptly. + +“You had no business to be here, Boyne. I don’t like boys hanging about +where ladies are talking together, and listening.” + +This did not prevent Lottie from answering, directly for Boyne, and +indirectly for Ellen, “It’s because it’s begun to grow since the last +bleach.” + +It was easier to grapple with Boyne than with Lottie, and Mrs. Kenton +was willing to allow her to leave the room with her brother unrebuked. +She was even willing to have had the veil lifted from Mrs. Bittridge’s +hair with a rude hand, if it world help Ellen. + +“I don’t want you to think, momma,” said the girl, “that I didn’t know +about her hair, or that I don’t see how silly she is. But it’s all the +more to his credit if he can be so good to her, and admire her. Would +you like him better if he despised her?” + +Mrs. Kenton felt both the defiance and the secret shame from which it +sprang in her daughter’s words; and she waited for a moment before she +answered, “I would like to be sure he didn’t!” + +“If he does, and if he hides it from her, it’s the same as if he didn’t; +it’s better. But you all wish to dislike him.” + +“We don’t wish to dislike him, Ellen, goodness knows. But I don’t think +he would care much whether we disliked him or not. I am sure your poor +father and I would be only too glad to like him.” + +“Lottie wouldn’t,” said Ellen, with a resentment her mother found +pathetic, it was so feeble and aimless. + +“Lottie doesn’t matter,” she said. She could not make out how nearly +Ellen was to sharing the common dislike, or how far she would go in +fortifying herself against it. She kept with difficulty to her negative +frankness, and she let the girl leave the room with a fretful sigh, as +if provoked that her mother would not provoke her further. There were +moments when Mrs. Kenton believed that Ellen was sick of her love, and +that she would pluck it out of her heart herself if she were left alone. +She was then glad Bittridge had come, so that Ellen might compare with +the reality the counterfeit presentment she had kept in her fancy; and +she believed that if she could but leave him to do his worst, it would +be the best for Ellen. + +In the evening, directly after dinner, Bittridge sent up his name for +Mrs. Kenton. The judge had remained to read his paper below, and Lottie +and Boyne had gone to some friends in another apartment. It seemed to +Mrs. Kenton a piece of luck that she should be able to see him alone, +and she could not have said that she was unprepared for him to come in, +holding his theatre-tickets explanatorily in his hand, or surprised when +he began: + +“Mrs. Kenton, my mother’s got a bad headache, and I’ve come to ask a +favor of you. She can’t use her ticket for to-night, and I want you to +let Miss Ellen come with me. Will you?” + +Bittridge had constituted himself an old friend of the whole family from +the renewal of their acquaintance, and Mrs. Kenton was now made aware of +his being her peculiar favorite, in spite of the instant repulsion she +felt, she was not averse to what he proposed. Her fear was that Ellen +would be so, or that she could keep from influencing her to this test +of her real feeling for Bittridge. “I will ask her, Mr. Bittridge,” she +said, with a severity which was a preliminary of the impartiality she +meant to use with Ellen. + +“Well, that’s right,” he answered, and while she went to the girl’s room +he remained examining the details of the drawing-room decorations in +easy security, which Mrs. Kenton justified on her return. + +“Ellen will be ready to go with you, Mr. Bittridge.” + +“Well, that’s good,” said the young man, and while he talked on she sat +wondering at a nature which all modesty and deference seemed left +out of, though he had sometimes given evidence of his intellectual +appreciation of these things. He talked to Mrs. Kenton not only as if +they were in every-wise equal, but as if they were of the same age, +almost of the same sex. + +Ellen came in, cloaked and hatted, with her delicate face excited in +prospect of the adventure; and her mother saw Bittridge look at her with +more tenderness than she had ever seen in him before. “I’ll take good +care of her, Mrs. Kenton,” he said, and for the first time she felt +herself relent a little towards him. + +A minute after they were gone Lottie bounced into the room, followed by +Boyne. + +“Momma!” she shouted, “Ellen isn’t going to the theatre with that +fellow?” + +“Yes, she is.” + +“And you let her, momma! Without a chaperon?” + +Boyne’s face had mirrored the indignation in his sister’s, but at +this unprecedented burst of conventionality he forgot their momentary +alliance. “Well, you’re a pretty one to talk about chaperons! Walking +all over Tuskingum with fellows at night, and going buggy-riding with +everybody, and out rowing, and here fairly begging Jim Plumpton to come +down to the steamer and see you off again!” + +“Shut up!” Lottie violently returned, “or I’ll tell momma how you’ve +been behaving with Rita Plumpton yourself.” + +“Well, tell!” Boyne defied her. + +“Oh, it don’t matter what a brat of a boy says or does, anyway,” said +Lottie. “But I think Ellen is disgracing the family. Everybody in the +hotel is laughing at that wiggy old Mrs. Bittridge, with her wobbly +eyes, and they can see that he’s just as green! The Plumptons have been +laughing so about them, and I told them that we had nothing to do with +them at home, and had fairly turned Bittridge out of the house, but he +had impudence enough for anything; and now to find Ellen going off to +the theatre with him alone!” + +Lottie began to cry with vexation as she whipped out of the room, and +Boyne, who felt himself drawn to her side again, said, very seriously: +“Well, it ain’t the thing in New York, you know, momma; and anybody can +see what a jay Bittridge is. I think it’s too bad to let her.” + +“It isn’t for you to criticise your mother, Boyne,” said Mrs. Kenton, +but she was more shaken than she would allow. Her own traditions were so +simple that the point of etiquette which her children had urged had not +occurred to her. The question whether Ellen should go with Bittridge at +all being decided, she would, of course, go in New York as she would go +in Tuskingum. Now Mrs. Kenton perceived that she must not, and she had +her share of humiliation in the impression which his mother, as her +friend, apparently, was making with her children’s acquaintances in the +hotel. If they would think everybody in Tuskingum was like her, it +would certainly be very unpleasant, but she would not quite own this +to herself, still less to a fourteen-year-old boy. “I think what your +father and I decide to be right will be sufficient excuse for you with +your friends.” + +“Does father know it?” Boyne asked, most unexpectedly. + +Having no other answer ready, Mrs. Kenton said, “You had better go to +bed, my son.” + +“Well,” he grumbled, as he left the room, “I don’t know where all the +pride of the Kentons is gone to.” + +In his sense of fallen greatness he attempted to join Lottie in her +room, but she said, “Go away, nasty thing!” and Boyne was obliged to +seek his own room, where he occupied himself with a contrivance he was +inventing to enable you to close your door and turn off your gas by +a system of pulleys without leaving your bed, when you were tired of +reading. + +Mrs. Kenton waited for her husband in much less comfort, and when he +came, and asked, restlessly, “Where are the children?” she first told +him that Lottie and Boyne were in their rooms before she could bring +herself to say that Ellen had gone to the theatre with Bittridge. + +It was some relief to have him take it in the dull way he did, and to +say nothing worse than, “Did you think it was well to have her!” + +“You may be sure I didn’t want her to. But what would she have said if +I had refused to let her go? I can tell you it isn’t an easy matter to +manage her in this business, and it’s very easy for you to criticise, +without taking the responsibility.” + +“I’m not criticising,” said Kenton. “I know you have acted for the +best.” + +“The children,” said Mrs. Kenton, wishing to be justified further, +“think she ought to have had a chaperon. I didn’t think of that; it +isn’t the custom at home; but Lottie was very saucy about it, and I had +to send Boyne to bed. I don’t think our children are very much comfort +to us.” + +“They are good children,” Kenton said, said--provisionally. + +“Yes, that is the worst of it. If they were bad, we wouldn’t expect any +comfort from them. Ellen is about perfect. She’s as near an angel as a +child can be, but she could hardly have given us more anxiety if she had +been the worst girl in the world.” + +“That’s true,” the father sadly assented. + +“She didn’t really want to go with him to-night, I’ll say that for her, +and if I had said a single word against it she wouldn’t have gone. But +all at once, while she sat there trying to think how I could excuse +her, she began asking me what she should wear. There’s something strange +about it, Rufus. If I believed in hypnotism, I should say she had gone +because he willed her to go.” + +“I guess she went because she wanted to go because she’s in love with +him,” said Kenton, hopelessly. + +“Yes,” Mrs. Kenton agreed. “I don’t see how she can endure the sight of +him. He’s handsome enough,” she added, with a woman’s subjective logic. +“And there’s something fascinating about him. He’s very graceful, and +he’s got a good figure.” + +“He’s a hound!” said Kenton, exhaustively. + +“Oh yes, he’s a hound,” she sighed, as if there could be no doubt on +that point. “It don’t seem right for him to be in the same room with +Ellen. But it’s for her to say. I feel more and more that we can’t +interfere without doing harm. I suppose that if she were not so +innocent herself she would realize what he was better. But I do think he +appreciates her innocence. He shows more reverence for her than for any +one else.” + +“How was it his mother didn’t go?” asked Kenton. + +“She had a headache, he said. But I don’t believe that. He always +intended to get Ellen to go. And that’s another thing Lottie was vexed +about; she says everybody is laughing at Mrs. Bittridge, and it’s +mortifying to have people take her for a friend of ours.” + +“If there were nothing worse than that,” said Kenton, “I guess we could +live through it. Well, I don’t know how it’s going to all end.” + +They sat talking sadly, but finding a certain comfort in their mutual +discouragement, and in their knowledge that they were doing the best +they could for their child, whose freedom they must not infringe so far +as to do what was absolutely best; and the time passed not so heavily +till her return. This was announced by the mounting of the elevator to +their landing, and then by low, rapid pleading in a man’s voice outside. +Kenton was about to open the door, when there came the formless noise of +what seemed a struggle, and Ellen’s voice rose in a muffed cry: “Oh! Oh! +Let me be! Go away! I hate you!” Kenton the door open, and Ellen burst +in, running to hide her face in her mother’s breast, where she sobbed +out, “He--he kissed me!” like a terrified child more than an insulted +woman. Through the open door came the clatter of Bittridge’s feet as he +ran down-stairs. + + + + +VII. + +When Mrs. Kenton came from quieting the hysterical girl in her room she +had the task, almost as delicate and difficult, of quieting her husband. +She had kept him, by the most solemn and exhaustive entreaty, from +following Bittridge downstairs and beating him with his stick, and now +she was answerable to him for his forbearance. “If you don’t behave +yourself, Rufus,” she had to say, “you will have some sort of stroke. +After all, there’s no harm done.” + +“No harm! Do you call it no harm for that hound to kiss Ellen?” + +“He wouldn’t have attempted it unless something had led up to it, I +suppose.” + +“Sarah! How can you speak so of that angel?” + +“Oh, that angel is a girl like the rest. You kissed me before we were +engaged.” + +“That was very different.” + +“I don’t see how. If your daughter is so sacred, why wasn’t her mother? +You men don’t think your wives are sacred. That’s it!” + +“No, no, Sarah! It’s because I don’t think of you as apart from myself, +that I can’t think of you as I do of Ellen. I beg your pardon if I +seemed to set her above you. But when I kissed you we were very young, +and we lived in a simple day, when such things meant no harm; and I was +very fond of you, and you were the holiest thing in the world to me. Is +Ellen holy to that fellow?” + +“I know,” Mrs. Kenton relented. “I’m not comparing him to you. And there +is a difference with Ellen. She isn’t like other girls. If it had been +Lottie--” + +“I shouldn’t have liked it with Lottie, either,” said the major, +stiffly. “But if it had been Lottie she would have boxed his ears for +him, instead of running to you. Lottie can take care of herself. And I +will take care of Ellen. When I see that scoundrel in the morning--” + +“What will you do, an old man like you! I can tell you, it’s something +you’ve just got to bear it if you don’t want the scandal to fill the +whole hotel. It’s a very fortunate thing, after all. It’ll put an end to +the whole affair.” + +“Do you think so, Sarah? If I believed that. What does Ellen say?” + +“Nothing; she won’t say anything--just cries and hides her face. I +believe she is ashamed of having made a scene before us. But I know that +she’s so disgusted with him that she will never look at him again, and +if it’s brought her to that I should think his kissing her the greatest +blessing in the world to us all. Yes, Ellen!” + +Mrs. Kenton hurried off at a faint call from the girl’s room, and when +she came again she sat down to a long discussion of the situation with +her husband, while she slowly took down her hair and prepared it for +the night. Her conclusion, which she made her husband’s, was that it +was most fortunate they should be sailing so soon, and that it was the +greatest pity they were not sailing in the morning. She wished him to +sleep, whether she slept herself or not, and she put the most hopeful +face possible upon the matter. “One thing you can rest assured of, +Rufus, and that is that it’s all over with Ellen. She may never speak to +you about him, and you mustn’t ever mention him, but she feels just as +you could wish. Does that satisfy you? Some time I will tell you all she +says.” + +“I don’t care to hear,” said Kenton. “All I want is for him to keep away +from me. I think if he spoke to me I should kill him.” + +“Rufus!” + +“I can’t help it, Sarah. I feel outraged to the bottom of my soul. I +could kill him.” + +Mrs. Kenton turned her head and looked steadfastly at him over her +shoulder. “If you strike him, if you touch him, Mr. Kenton, you will +undo everything that the abominable wretch has done for Ellen, and you +will close my mouth and tie my hands. Will you promise that under no +provocation whatever will you do him the least harm? I know Ellen better +than you do, and I know that you will make her hate you unless--” + +“Oh, I will promise. You needn’t be afraid. Lord help me!” Kenton +groaned. “I won’t touch him. But don’t expect me to speak to him.” + +“No, I don’t expect that. He won’t offer to speak to you.” + +They slept, and in the morning she stayed to breakfast with Ellen +in their apartment, and let her husband go down with their younger +children. She could trust him now, whatever form his further trial +should take, and he felt that he was pledging himself to her anew, when +Bittridge came hilariously to meet him in the reading-room, where he +went for a paper after breakfast. + +“Ah, judge!” said the young man, gayly. “Hello, Boyne!” he added to the +boy, who had come with his father; Lottie had gone directly up-stairs +from the breakfast-room. “I hope you’re all well this morning? Play not +too much for Miss Ellen?” + +Kenton looked him in the face without answering, and then tried to get +away from him, but Bittridge followed him up, talking, and ignoring his +silence. + +“It was a splendid piece, judge. You must take Mrs. Kenton. I know +you’ll both like it. I haven’t ever seen Miss Ellen so interested. I +hope the walk home didn’t fatigue her. I wanted to get a cab, but she +would walk.” The judge kept moving on, with his head down. He did not +speak, and Bittridge was forced to notice his silence. “Nothing the +matter, I hope, with Miss Ellen, judge?” + +“Go away,” said the judge, in a low voice, fumbling the head of his +stick. + +“Why, what’s up?” asked Bittridge, and he managed to get in front of +Kenton and stay him at a point where Kenton could not escape. It was a +corner of the room to which the old man had aimlessly tended, with no +purpose but to avoid him: + +“I wish you to let me alone, sir,” said Kenton at last. “I can’t speak +to you.” + +“I understand what you mean, judge,” said Bittridge, with a grin, all +the more maddening because it seemed involuntary. “But I can explain +everything. I just want a few words with you. It’s very important; it’s +life or death with me, sir,” he said, trying to look grave. “Will you +let me go to your rooms with you?” + +Kenton made no reply. + +Bittridge began to laugh. “Then let’s sit down here, or in the ladies’ +parlor. It won’t take me two minutes to make everything right. If you +don’t believe I’m in earnest I know you don’t think I am, but I can +assure you--Will you let me speak with you about Miss Ellen?” + +Still Kenton did not answer, shutting his lips tight, and remembering +his promise to his wife. + +Bittridge laughed, as if in amusement at what he had done. “Judge, let +me say two words to you in private! If you can’t now, tell me when you +can. We’re going back this evening, mother and I are; she isn’t well, +and I’m not going to take her to Washington. I don’t want to go leaving +you with the idea that I wanted to insult Miss Ellen. I care too much +for her. I want to see you and Mrs. Kenton about it. I do, indeed. And +won’t you let me see you, somewhere?” + +Kenton looked away, first to one side and then to another, and seemed +stifling. + +“Won’t you speak to me! Won’t you answer me? See here! I’d get down on +my knees to you if it would do you any good. Where will you talk with +me?” + +“Nowhere!” shouted Kenton. “Will you go away, or shall I strike you with +my stick?” + +“Oh, I don’t think,” said Bittridge, and suddenly, in the wantonness of +his baffled effrontery, he raised his hand and rubbed the back of it in +the old man’s face. + +Boyne Kenton struck wildly at him, and Bittridge caught the boy by the +arm and flung him to his knees on the marble floor. The men reading in +the arm-chairs about started to their feet; a porter came running, +and took hold of Bittridge. “Do you want an officer, Judge Kenton?” he +panted. + +“No, no!” Kenton answered, choking and trembling. “Don’t arrest him. I +wish to go to my rooms, that’s all. Let him go. Don’t do anything about +it.” + +“I’ll help you, judge,” said the porter. “Take hold of this fellow,” he +said to two other porters who came up. “Take him to the desk, and +tell the clerk he struck Judge Kenton, but the judge don’t want him +arrested.” + +Before Kenton reached the elevator with Boyne, who was rubbing his +knees and fighting back the tears, he heard the clerk’s voice saying, +formally, to the porters, “Baggage out of 35 and 37” and adding, as +mechanically, to Bittridge: “Your rooms are wanted. Get out of them at +once!” + +It seemed the gathering of neighborhood about Kenton, where he had felt +himself so unfriended, against the outrage done him, and he felt the +sweetness of being personally championed in a place where he had thought +himself valued merely for the profit that was in him; his eyes filled, +and his voice failed him in thanking the elevator-boy for running before +him to ring the bell of his apartment. + + + + +VIII. + +The next day, in Tuskingum, Richard, Kenton found among the letters of +his last mail one which he easily knew to be from his sister Lottie, +by the tightly curled-up handwriting, and by the unliterary look of the +slanted and huddled address of the envelope: The only doubt he could +have felt in opening it was from the unwonted length at which she had +written him; Lottie usually practised a laconic brevity in her notes, +which were suited to the poverty of her written vocabulary rather than +the affluence of her spoken word. + + “Dear Dick” [her letter ran, tripping and stumbling in its course], + “I have got to tell you about something that has just happened here, + and you needent laugh at the speling, or the way I tell it, but just + pay attention to the thing itself, if you please. That disgusting + Bittridge has been here with his horrid wiggy old mother, and momma + let him take Ellen to the theatre. On the way home he tried to make + her promise she would marry him and at the door he kissed her. They + had an awful night with her hiseterics, and I heard momma going in + and out, and trying to comfort her till daylight, nearly. In the + morning I went down with poppy and Boyne to breakfast, and after I + came up, father went to the reading-room to get a paper, and that + Bittridge was there waiting for him, and wanted to speak with him + about Ellen. Poppa wouldent say a word to him, and he kept + following poppa up, to make him. Boyne says be wouldent take no for + an ansir, and hung on and hungon, till poppa threatened to hitt him + with his cane. Then he saw it was no use, and he took his hand and + rubbed it in poppa’s face, and Boyne believes he was trying to pull + poppa’s nose. Boyne acted like I would have done; he pounded + Bittridge in the back; but of course Bittridge was too strong for + him, and threw him on the floor, and Boyne scraped his knee so that + it bledd. Then the porters came up, and caught Bittridge, and + wanted to send for a policeman, but father wouldent let them, and + the porters took Bittridge to the desk and the clerk told him to get + out instantly and they left as soon as old Wiggy could get her + things on. I don’t know where they went, but he told poppa they + were going home to-day any way. Now, Dick, I don’t know what you + will want to do, and I am not going to put you up to anything, but I + know what I would do, pretty well, the first time Bittridge showed + himself in Tuskingum. You can do just as you please, and I don’t + ask you to believe me if you’re think I’m so exciteable that I cant + tell the truth. I guess Boyne will say the same. Much love to + Mary. Your affectionate sister, + + “Lottie. + + “P. S.--Every word Lottie says is true, but I am not sure he meant + to pull his nose. The reason why he threw me down so easily is, I + have grown about a foot, and I have not got up my strength. BOYNE. + + “This is strictly confidential. They don’t know we + are writing. LATTIE.” + + +After reading this letter, Richard Kenton tore it into small pieces, so +that there should not be even so much witness as it bore to facts that +seemed to fill him with fury to the throat. His fury was, in agreement +with his temperament, the white kind and cold kind. He was able to keep +it to himself for that reason; at supper his wife knew merely that +he had something on his mind that he did not wish to talk of; and +experience had taught her that it would be useless to try making him +speak. + +He slept upon his wrath, and in the morning early, at an hour when he +knew there would be no loafers in the place, he went to an out-dated +saddler’s shop, and asked the owner, a veteran of his father’s regiment, +“Welks, do you happen to have a cowhide among your antiquities?” + +“Regular old style?” Welks returned. “Kind they make out of a cow’s hide +and use on a man’s?” + +“Something of that sort,” said Richard, with a slight smile. + +The saddler said nothing more, but rummaged among the riff-raff on an +upper shelf. He got down with the tapering, translucent, wicked-looking +thing in his hand. “I reckon that’s what you’re after, squire.” + +“Reckon it is, Welks,” said Richard, drawing it through his tubed left +hand. Then he buttoned it under his coat, and paid the quarter which +Welks said had always been the price of a cowhide even since he could +remember, and walked away towards the station. + +“How’s the old colonel” Welks called after him, having forgotten to ask +before. + +“The colonel’s all right,” Richard called back, without looking round. + +He walked up and down in front of the station. A local train came in +from Ballardsville at 8.15, and waited for the New York special, and +then returned to Ballardsville. Richard had bought a ticket for that +station, and was going to take the train back, but among the passengers +who descended from it when it drew in was one who saved him the trouble +of going. + +Bittridge, with his overcoat hanging on his arm, advanced towards him +with the rest, and continued to advance, in a sort of fascination, after +his neighbors, with the instinct that something was about to happen, +parted on either side of Richard, and left the two men confronted. +Richard did not speak, but deliberately reached out his left hand, which +he caught securely into Bittridge’s collar; then he began to beat him +with the cowhide wherever he could strike his writhing and twisting +shape. Neither uttered a word, and except for the whir of the cowhide in +the air, and the rasping sound of its arrest upon the body of Bittridge, +the thing was done in perfect silence. The witnesses stood well back in +a daze, from which they recovered when Richard released Bittridge with +a twist of the hand that tore his collar loose and left his cravat +dangling, and tossed the frayed cowhide away, and turned and walked +homeward. Then one of them picked up Bittridge’s hat and set it aslant +on his head, and others helped pull his collar together and tie his +cravat. + +For the few moments that Richard Kenton remained in sight they scarcely +found words coherent enough for question, and when they did, Bittridge +had nothing but confused answers to give to the effect that he did not +know what it meant, but he would find out. He got into a hack and had +himself driven to his hotel, but he never made the inquiry which he +threatened. + +In his own house Richard Kenton lay down awhile, deadly sick, and +his wife had to bring him brandy before he could control his nerves +sufficiently to speak. Then he told her what he had done, and why, and +Mary pulled off his shoes and put a hot-water bottle to his cold feet. +It was not exactly the treatment for a champion, but Mary Kenton was not +thinking of that, and when Richard said he still felt a little sick at +the stomach she wanted him to try a drop of camphor in addition to the +brandy. She said he must not talk, but she wished him so much to talk +that she was glad when he began. + +“It seemed to be something I had to do, Mary, but I would give anything +if I had not been obliged to do it: + +“Yes, I know just how you feel, Dick, and I think it’s pretty hard this +has come on you. I do think Ellen might--” + +“It wasn’t her fault, Mary. You mustn’t blame her. She’s had more to +bear than all the rest of us.” Mary looked stubbornly unconvinced, and +she was not moved, apparently, by what he went on to say. “The thing now +is to keep what I’ve done from making more mischief for her.” + +“What do you mean, Dick? You don’t believe he’ll do anything about it, +do you?” + +“No, I’m not afraid of that. His mouth is shut. But you can’t tell how +Ellen will take it. She may side with him now.” + +“Dick! If I thought Ellen Kenton could be such a fool as that!” + +“If she’s in love with him she’ll take his part.” + +“But she can’t be in love with him when she knows how he acted to your +father!” + +“We can’t be sure of that. I know how he acted to father; but at this +minute I pity him so that I could take his part against father. And I +can understand how Ellen--Anyway, I must make a clean breast of it. What +day is this Thursday? And they sail Saturday! I must write--” + +He lifted himself on his elbow, and made as if to throw off the shawl +she had spread upon him. + +“No, no! I will write, Dick! I will write to your mother. What shall +I say?” She whirled about, and got the paper and ink out of her +writing-desk, and sat down near him to keep him from getting up, and +wrote the date, and the address, “Dear Mother Kenton,” which was the way +she always began her letters to Mrs. Kenton, in order to distinguish her +from her own mother. “Now what shall I say?” + +“Simply this,” answered Richard. “That I knew of what had happened in +New York, and when I met him this morning I cowhided him. Ugh!” + +“Well, that won’t do, Dick. You’ve got to tell all about it. Your mother +won’t understand.” + +“Then you write what you please, and read it to me. It makes me sick to +think of it.” Richard closed his eyes, and Mary wrote: + + “DEAR MOTHER KENTON,--I am sitting by Richard, writing at his + request, about what he has done. He received a letter from New York + telling him of the Bittridges’ performances there, and how that + wretch had insulted and abused you all. He bought a cowhide; + meaning to go over to Ballardsville, and use it on him there, but B. + came over on the Accommodation this morning, and Richard met him at + the station. He did not attempt to resist, for Richard took him + quite by surprise. Now, Mother Kenton, you know that Richard + doesn’t approve of violence, and the dear, sweet soul is perfectly + broken-down by what he had to do. But he had to do it, and he + wishes you to know at, once that he did it. He dreads the effect + upon Ellen, and we must leave it to your judgment about telling her. + Of course, sooner or later she must find it out. You need not be + alarmed about Richard. He is just nauseated a little, and he will + be all right as soon as his stomach is settled. He thinks you ought + to have this letter before you sail, and with affectionate good-byes + to all, in which Dick joins, + + “Your loving daughter, + + “Mary KENTON.” + +“There! Will that do?” + +“Yes, that is everything that can be said,” answered Richard, and Mary +kissed him gratefully before sealing her letter. + +“I will put a special delivery on it,” she said, and her precaution +availed to have the letter delivered to Mrs. Kenton the evening the +family left the hotel, when it was too late to make any change in their +plans, but in time to give her a bad night on the steamer, in her doubt +whether she ought to let the family go, with this trouble behind them. + +But she would have had a bad night on the steamer in any case, with the +heat, and noise, and smell of the docks; and the steamer sailed with her +at six o’clock the next morning with the doubt still open in her mind. +The judge had not been of the least use to her in helping solve it, and +she had not been able to bring herself to attack Lottie for writing to +Richard. She knew it was Lottie who had made the mischief, but she could +not be sure that it was mischief till she knew its effect upon Ellen. +The girl had been carried in the arms of one of the stewards from the +carriage to her berth in Lottie’s room, and there she had lain through +the night, speechless and sleepless. + + + + +IX. + +Ellen did not move or manifest any consciousness when the steamer left +her dock and moved out into the stream, or take any note of the tumult +that always attends a great liner’s departure. At breakfast-time her +mother came to her from one of the brief absences she made, in the hope +that at each turn she should find her in a different mood, and asked if +she would not have something to eat. + +“I’m not hungry,” she answered. “When will it sail?” + +“Why, Ellen! We sailed two hours ago, and the pilot has just left us.” + +Ellen lifted herself on her elbow and stared at her. “And you let me!” + she said, cruelly. + +“Ellen! I will not have this!” cried her mother, frantic at the +reproach. “What do you mean by my letting you? You knew that we were +going to sail, didn’t you? What else did you suppose we had come to the +steamer for?” + +“I supposed you would let me stay, if I wanted to: But go away, momma, +go away! You’re all against me--you, and poppa, and Lottie, and Boyne. +Oh, dear! oh, dear!” She threw herself down in her berth and covered her +face with the sheet, sobbing, while her mother stood by in an anguish of +pity and anger. She wanted to beat the girl, she wanted to throw herself +upon her, and weep with her in the misery which she shared with her. + +Lottie came to the door of the state-room with an arm-load of +long-stemmed roses, the gift of the young Mr. Plumpton, who had not had +so much to be entreated to come down to the steamer and see her off as +Boyne had pretended. “Momma,” she said, “I have got to leave these roses +in here, whether Ellen likes it or not. Boyne won’t have them in his +room, because he says the man that’s with him would have a right to +object; and this is half my room, anyway.” + +Mrs. Kenton frowned and shook her head, but Ellen answered from under +the sheet, “I don’t mind the roses, Lottie. I wish you’d stay with me a +little while.” + +Lottie hesitated, having in mind the breakfast for which the horn +had just sounded. But apparently she felt that one good turn deserved +another, and she answered: “All right; I will, Nell. Momma, you tell +Boyne to hurry, and come to Ellen as soon as he’s done, and then I will +go. Don’t let anybody take my place.” + +“I wish,” said Ellen, still from under the sheet, “that momma would have +your breakfast sent here. I don’t want Boyne.” + +Women apparently do not require any explanation of these swift +vicissitudes in one another, each knowing probably in herself the nerves +from which they proceed. Mrs. Kenton promptly assented, in spite of the +sulky reluctance which Lottie’s blue eyes looked at her; she motioned +her violently to silence, and said: “Yes, I will, Ellen. I will send +breakfast for both of you.” + +When she was gone, Ellen uncovered her face and asked Lottie to dip a +towel in water and give it to her. As she bathed her eyes she said, “You +don’t care, do you, Lottie?” + +“Not very much,” said Lottie, unsparingly. “I can go to lunch, I +suppose.” + +“Maybe I’ll go to lunch with you,” Ellen suggested, as if she were +speaking of some one else. + +Lottie wasted neither sympathy nor surprise on the question. “Well, +maybe that would be the best thing. Why don’t you come to breakfast?” + +“No, I won’t go to breakfast. But you go.” + +When Lottie joined her family in the dining-saloon she carelessly +explained that Ellen had said she wanted to be alone. Before the young +man, who was the only other person besides the Kentons at their table, +her mother could not question her with any hope that the bad would not +be made worse, and so she remained silent. Judge Kenton sat with his +eyes fixed on his plate, where as yet the steward had put no breakfast +for him; Boyne was supporting the dignity of the family in one of those +moments of majesty from which he was so apt to lapse into childish +dependence. Lottie offered him another alternative by absently laying +hold of his napkin on the table. + +“That’s mine,” he said, with husky gloom. + +She tossed it back to him with prompt disdain and a deeply eye-lashed +glance at a napkin on her right. The young man who sat next it said, +with a smile, “Perhaps that’s yours-unless I’ve taken my neighbor’s.” + +Lottie gave him a stare, and when she had sufficiently punished him for +his temerity said, rather sweetly, “Oh, thank you,” and took the napkin. + +“I hope we shall all have use for them before long,” the young man +ventured again. + +“Well, I should think as much,” returned the girl, and this was the +beginning of a conversation which the young man shared successively with +the judge and Mrs. Kenton as opportunity offered. He gave the judge his +card across the table, and when the judge had read on it, “Rev. Hugh +Breckon,” he said that his name was Kenton, and he introduced the young +man formally to his family. Mr. Breckon had a clean-shaven face, with an +habitual smile curving into the cheeks from under a long, straight nose; +his chin had a slight whopper-jaw twist that was charming; his gay eyes +were blue, and a full vein came down his forehead between them from his +smooth hair. When he laughed, which was often, his color brightened. + +Boyne was named last, and then Mr. Breckon said, with a smile that +showed all his white teeth, “Oh yes, Mr. Boyne and I are friends +already--ever since we found ourselves room-mates,” and but for us, as +Lottie afterwards noted, they might never have known Boyne was rooming +with him, and could easily have made all sorts of insulting remarks +about Mr. Breckon in their ignorance. + +The possibility seemed to delight Mr. Breckon; he invited her to make +all the insulting remarks she could think of, any way, and professed +himself a loser, so far as her real opinion was withheld from him by +reason of his rashness in giving the facts away. In the electrical +progress of their acquaintance she had begun walking up and down the +promenade with him after they came up from breakfast; her mother had +gone to Ellen; the judge had been made comfortable in his steamer-chair, +and Boyne had been sent about his business. + +“I will try to think some up,” she promised him, “as soon as I HAVE +any real opinion of you,” and he asked her if he might consider that a +beginning. + +She looked at him out of her indomitable blue eyes, and said, “If it +hadn’t been for your card, and the Reverend on it, I should have said +you were an actor.” + +“Well, well,” said Mr. Breckon, with a laugh, “perhaps I am, in a way. +I oughtn’t to be, of course, but if a minister ever forces himself, I +suppose he’s acting.” + +“I don’t see,” said Lottie, instantly availing herself of the opening, +“how you can get up and pray, Sunday after Sunday, whether you feel like +it or not.” + +The young man said, with another laugh, but not so gay, “Well, the case +has its difficulties.” + +“Or perhaps you just read prayers,” Lottie sharply conjectured. + +“No,” he returned, “I haven’t that advantage--if you think it one. I’m a +sort of a Unitarian. Very advanced, too, I’m afraid.” + +“Is that a kind of Universalist?” + +“Not--not exactly. There’s an old joke--I’m not sure it’s very +good--which distinguishes between the sects. It’s said that the +Universalists think God is too good to damn them, and the Unitarians +think they are too good to be damned.” Lottie shrank a little from him. +“Ah!” he cried, “you think it sounds wicked. Well, I’m sorry. I’m not +clerical enough to joke about serious things.” + +He looked into her face with a pretended anxiety. “Oh, I don’t know,” + she said, with a little scorn. “I guess if you can stand it, I can.” + +“I’m not sure that I can. I’m afraid it’s more in keeping with an +actor’s profession than my own. Why,” he added, as if to make a +diversion, “should you have thought I was an actor?” + +“I suppose because you were clean-shaved; and your pronunciation. So +Englishy.” + +“Is it? Perhaps I ought to be proud. But I’m not an Englishman. I am a +plain republican American. May I ask if you are English?” + +“Oh!” said Lottie. “As if you thought such a thing. We’re from Ohio.” + +Mr. Breckon said, “Ah!” Lottie could not make out in just what sense. + +By this time they were leaning on the rail of the promenade, looking +over at what little was left of Long Island, and she said, abruptly: “I +think I will go and see how my father is getting along.” + +“Oh, do take me with you, Miss Kenton!” Mr. Breckon entreated. “I am +feeling very badly about that poor old joke. I know you don’t think well +of me for it, and I wish to report what I’ve been saying to your father, +and let him judge me. I’ve heard that it’s hard to live up to Ohio +people when you’re at your best, and I do hope you’ll believe I have not +been quite at my best. Will you let me come with you?” + +Lottie did not know whether he was making fun of her or not, but she +said, “Oh, it’s a free country,” and allowed him to go with her. + +His preface made the judge look rather grave; but when he came to the +joke, Kenton laughed and said it was not bad. + +“Oh, but that isn’t quite the point,” said Mr. Breckon. “The question +is whether I am good in repeating it to a young lady who was seeking +serious instruction on a point of theology.” + +“I don’t know what she would have done with the instruction if she +had got it,” said the judge, dryly, and the young man ventured in her +behalf: + +“It would be difficult for any one to manage, perhaps.” + +“Perhaps,” Kenton assented, and Lottie could see that he was thinking +Ellen would know what to do with it. + +She resented that, and she was in the offence that girls feel when +their elders make them the subject of comment with their contemporaries. +“Well, I’ll leave you to discuss it alone. I’m going to Ellen,” she +said, the young man vainly following her a few paces, with apologetic +gurgles of laughter. + +“That’s right,” her father consented, and then he seized the opening to +speak about Ellen. “My eldest daughter is something of an invalid, but +I hope we shall have her on deck before the voyage is over. She is more +interested in those matters than her sister.” + +“Oh!” Mr. Breckon interpolated, in a note of sympathetic interest. He +could not well do more. + +It was enough for Judge Kenton, who launched himself upon the +celebration of Ellen’s gifts and qualities with a simple-hearted +eagerness which he afterwards denied when his wife accused him of it, +but justified as wholly safe in view of Mr. Breckon’s calling and his +obvious delicacy of mind. It was something that such a person would +understand, and Kenton was sure that he had not unduly praised the +girl. A less besotted parent might have suspected that he had not deeply +interested his listener, who seemed glad of the diversion operated by +Boyne’s coming to growl upon his father, “Mother’s bringing Ellen up.” + +“Oh, then, I mustn’t keep your chair,” said the minister, and he rose +promptly from the place he had taken beside the judge, and got himself +away to the other side of the ship before the judge could frame a +fitting request for him to stay. + +“If you had,” Mrs. Kenton declared, when he regretted this to her, “I +don’t know what I would have done. It’s bad enough for him to hear you +bragging about the child without being kept to help take care of her, +or keep her amused, as you call it. I will see that Ellen is kept amused +without calling upon strangers.” She intimated that if Kenton did not +act with more self-restraint she should do little less than take Ellen +ashore, and abandon him to the voyage alone. Under the intimidation he +promised not to speak of Ellen again. + +At luncheon, where Mr. Breckon again devoted himself to Lottie, he and +Ellen vied in ignoring each other after their introduction, as far as +words went. The girl smiled once or twice at what he was saying to her +sister, and his glance kindled when it detected her smile. He might be +supposed to spare her his conversation in her own interest, she looked +so little able to cope with the exigencies of the talk he kept going. + +When he addressed her she answered as if she had not been listening, and +he turned back to Lottie. After luncheon he walked with her, and their +acquaintance made such a swift advance that she was able to ask him if +he laughed that way with everybody. + +He laughed, and then he begged her pardon if he had been rude. + +“Well, I don’t see what there is to laugh at so much. When you ask me +a thing I tell you just what I think, and it seems to set you off in a +perfect gale. Don’t you expect people to say what they think?” + +“I think it’s beautiful,” said the young man, going into the gale, “and +I’ve got to expecting it of you, at any rate. But--but it’s always so +surprising! It isn’t what you expect of people generally, is it?” + +“I don’t expect it of you,” said Lottie. + +“No?” asked Mr. Breckon, in another gale. “Am I so uncandid?” + +“I don’t know about uncandid. But I should say you were slippery.” + +At this extraordinary criticism the young man looked graver than he had +yet been able to do since the beginning of their acquaintance. He said, +presently, “I wish you would explain what you mean by slippery.” + +“You’re as close as a trap!” + +“Really?” + +“It makes me tired.” + +“If you’re not too tired now I wish you would say how.” + +“Oh, you understand well enough. You’ve got me to say what I think about +all sorts of things, and you haven’t expressed your opinion on a single, +solitary point?” + +Lottie looked fiercely out to sea, turning her face so as to keep him +from peering around into it in the way he had. For that reason, perhaps, +he did not try to do so. He answered, seriously: “I believe you are +partly right. I’m afraid I haven’t seemed quite fair. Couldn’t you +attribute my closeness to something besides my slipperiness?” He began +to laugh again. “Can’t you imagine my being interested in your opinions +so much more than my own that I didn’t care to express mine?” + +Lottie said, impatiently, “Oh, pshaw!” She had hesitated whether to say, +“Rats!” + +“But now,” he pursued, “if you will suggest some point on which I can +give you an opinion, I promise solemnly to do so,” but he was not very +solemn as he spoke. + +“Well, then, I will,” she said. “Don’t you think it’s very strange, to +say the least, for a minister to be always laughing so much?” + +Mr. Breckon gave a peal of delight, and answered, “Yes, I certainly do.” + He controlled himself so far as to say: “Now I think I’ve been pretty +open with you, and I wish you’d answer me a question. Will you?” + +“Well, I will--one,” said Lottie. + +“It may be two or three; but I’ll begin with one. Why do you think a +minister ought to be more serious than other men?” + +“Why? Well, I should think you’d know. You wouldn’t laugh at a funeral, +would you?” + +“I’ve been at some funerals where it would have been a relief to laugh, +and I’ve wanted to cry at some weddings. But you think it wouldn’t do?” + +“Of course it wouldn’t. I should think you’d know as much as that,” said +Lottie, out of patience with him. + +“But a minister isn’t always marrying or burying people; and in the +intervals, why shouldn’t he be setting them an example of harmless +cheerfulness?” + +“He ought to be thinking more about the other world, I should say.” + +“Well, if he believes there is another world--” + +“Why! Don’t you?” she broke out on him. + +Mr. Breckon ruled himself and continued--“as strenuously and +unquestionably as he ought, he has greater reason than other men for +gayety through his faith in a happier state of being than this. That’s +one of the reasons I use against myself when I think of leaving off +laughing. Now, Miss Kenton,” he concluded, “for such a close and +slippery nature, I think I’ve been pretty frank,” and he looked round +and down into her face with a burst of laughter that could be heard +an the other side of the ship. He refused to take up any serious topic +after that, and he returned to his former amusement of making her give +herself away. + +That night Lottie came to her room with an expression so decisive in her +face that Ellen, following it with vague, dark eyes as it showed itself +in the glass at which her sister stood taking out the first dismantling +hairpins before going to bed, could not fail of something portentous in +it. + +“Well,” said Lottie, with severe finality, “I haven’t got any use +for THAT young man from this time out. Of all the tiresome people, he +certainly takes the cake. You can have him, Ellen, if you want him.” + +“What’s the matter with him?” asked Ellen, with a voice in sympathy with +the slow movement of her large eyes as she lay in her berth, staring at +Lottie. + +“There’s everything the matter, that oughtn’t to be. He’s too trivial +for anything: I like a man that’s serious about one thing in the +universe, at least, and that’s just what Mr. Breckon isn’t.” She went at +such length into his disabilities that by the time she returned to the +climax with which she started she was ready to clamber into the upper +berth; and as she snapped the electric button at its head she repeated, +“He’s trivial.” + +“Isn’t it getting rough?” asked Ellen. “The ship seems to be tipping.” + +“Yes, it is,” said Lottie, crossly. “Good-night.” + +If the Rev. Mr. Breckon was making an early breakfast in the hope of +sooner meeting Lottie, who had dismissed him the night before without +encouraging him to believe that she wished ever to see him again, he +was destined to disappointment. The deputation sent to breakfast by +the paradoxical family whose acquaintance he had made on terms of each +forbidding intimacy, did not include the girl who had frankly provoked +his confidence and severely snubbed it. He had left her brother very +sea-sick in their state-room, and her mother was reported by her father +to be feeling the motion too much to venture out. The judge was, in +fact, the only person at table when Breckon sat down; but when he had +accounted for his wife’s absence, and confessed that he did not believe +either of his daughters was coming, Ellen gainsaid him by appearing and +advancing quite steadily along the saloon to the place beside him. It +had not gone so far as this in the judge’s experience of a neurotic +invalid without his learning to ask her no questions about herself. He +had always a hard task in refraining, but he had grown able to refrain, +and now he merely looked unobtrusively glad to see her, and asked her +where Lottie was. + +“Oh, she doesn’t want any breakfast, she says. Is momma sick, too? +Where’s Boyne?” + +The judge reported as to her mother, and Mr. Breckon, after the exchange +of a silent salutation with the girl, had a gleeful moment in describing +Boyne’s revolt at the steward’s notion of gruel. “I’m glad to see you so +well, Miss Kenton,” he concluded. + +“I suppose I will be sick, too, if it gets rougher,” she said, and she +turned from him to give a rather compendious order to the table steward. + +“Well, you’ve got an appetite, Ellen,” her father ventured. + +“I don’t believe I will eat anything,” she checked him, with a falling +face. + +Breckon came to the aid of the judge. “If you’re not sick now, I +prophesy you won’t be, Miss Kenton. It can’t get much rougher, without +doing something uncommon.” + +“Is it a storm?” she asked, indifferently. + +“It’s what they call half a gale, I believe. I don’t know how they +measure it.” + +She smiled warily in response to his laugh, and said to her father, “Are +you going up after breakfast, poppa?” + +“Why, if you want to go, Ellen--” + +“Oh, I wasn’t asking for that; I am going back to Lottie. But I should +think you would like the air. Won’t it do you good?” + +“I’m all right,” said the judge, cheered by her show of concern for some +one else. “I suppose it’s rather wet on deck?” he referred himself to +Breckon. + +“Well, not very, if you keep to the leeward. She doesn’t seem a very wet +boat.” + +“What is a wet boat” Ellen asked, without lifting her sad eyes. + +“Well, really, I’m afraid it’s largely a superstition. Passengers like +to believe that some boats are less liable to ship seas--to run into +waves--than others; but I fancy that’s to give themselves the air of old +travellers.” + +She let the matter lapse so entirely that he supposed she had forgotten +it in all its bearings, when she asked, “Have you been across many +times?” + +“Not many-four or five.” + +“This is our first time,” she volunteered. + +“I hope it won’t be your last. I know you will enjoy it.” She fell +listless again, and Breckon imagined he had made a break. “Not,” he +added, with an endeavor for lightness, “that I suppose you’re going for +pleasure altogether. Women, nowadays, are above that, I understand. They +go abroad for art’s sake, and to study political economy, and history, +and literature--” + +“My daughter,” the judge interposed, “will not do much in that way, I +hope.” + +The girl bent her head over her plate and frowned. + +“Oh, then,” said Breckon, “I will believe that she’s going for purely +selfish enjoyment. I should like to be justified in making that my +object by a good example.” + +Ellen looked up and gave him a look that cut him short in his glad note. +The lifting of her eyelids was like the rise of the curtain upon some +scene of tragedy which was all the more impressive because it seemed +somehow mixed with shame. This poor girl, whom he had pitied as an +invalid, was a sufferer from some spiritual blight more pathetic than +broken health. He pulled his mind away from the conjecture that tempted +it and went on: “One of the advantages of going over the fourth or fifth +time is that you’re relieved from a discoverer’s duties to Europe. I’ve +got absolutely nothing before me now, but at first I had to examine +every object of interest on the Continent, and form an opinion about +thousands of objects that had no interest for me. I hope Miss Kenton +will take warning from me.” + +He had not addressed Ellen directly, and her father answered: “We have +no definite plans as yet, but we don’t mean to overwork ourselves even +if we’ve come for a rest. I don’t know,” he added, “but we had better +spend our summer in England. It’s easier getting about where you know +the language.” + +The judge seemed to refer his ideas to Breckon for criticism, and the +young man felt authorized to say, “Oh, so many of them know the language +everywhere now, that it’s easy getting about in any country.” + +“Yes, I suppose so,” the judge vaguely deferred. + +“Which,” Ellen demanded of the young man with a nervous suddenness, “do +you think is the most interesting country?” + +He found himself answering with equal promptness, “Oh, Italy, of +course.” + +“Can we go to Italy, poppa?” asked the girl. + +“I shouldn’t advise you to go there at once” Breckon intervened, +smiling. “You’d find it Pretty hot there now. Florence, or Rome, or +Naples--you can’t think of them.” + +“We have it pretty hot in Central Ohio,” said the judge, with latent +pride in his home climate, “What sort of place is Holland?” + +“Oh, delightful! And the boat goes right on to Rotterdam, you know.” + +“Yes. We had arranged to leave it at Boulogne,” but we could change. +“Do you think your mother would like Holland?” The judge turned to his +daughter. + +“I think she would like Italy better. She’s read more about it,” said +the girl. + +“Rise of the Dutch Republic,” her father suggested. + +“Yes, I know. But she’s read more about Italy!” + +“Oh, well,” Breckon yielded, “the Italian lakes wouldn’t be impossible. +And you might find Venice fairly comfortable.” + +“We could go to Italy, then,” said the judge to his daughter, “if your +mother prefers.” + +Breckon found the simplicity of this charming, and he tasted a yet finer +pleasure in the duplicity; for he divined that the father was seeking +only to let his daughter have her way in pretending to yield to her +mother’s preference. + +It was plain that the family’s life centred, as it ought, about this +sad, sick girl, the heart of whose mystery he perceived, on reflection, +he had not the wish to pluck out. He might come to know it, but he would +not try to know it; if it offered itself he might even try not to know +it. He had sometimes found it more helpful with trouble to be ignorant +of its cause. + +In the mean time he had seen that these Kentons were sweet, good +people, as he phrased their quality to himself. He had come to terms of +impersonal confidence the night before with Boyne, who had consulted +him upon many more problems and predicaments of life than could have yet +beset any boy’s experience, probably with the wish to make provision for +any possible contingency of the future. The admirable principles which +Boyne evolved for his guidance from their conversation were formulated +with a gravity which Breckon could outwardly respect only by stifling +his laughter in his pillow. He rather liked the way Lottie had tried to +weigh him in her balance and found him, as it were, of an imponderable +levity. With his sense of being really very light at most times, and +with most people, he was aware of having been particularly light with +Lottie, of having been slippery, of having, so far as responding to her +frankness was concerned, been close. He relished the unsparing honesty +with which she had denounced him, and though he did not yet know his +outcast condition with relation to her, he could not think of her +without a smile of wholly disinterested liking. He did not know, as a +man of earlier date would have known, all that the little button in the +judge’s lapel meant; but he knew that it meant service in the civil war, +a struggle which he vaguely and impersonally revered, though its details +were of much the same dimness for him as those of the Revolution and +the War of 1812. The modest distrust which had grown upon the bold +self-confidence of Kenton’s earlier manhood could not have been more +tenderly and reverently imagined; and Breckon’s conjecture of things +suffered for love’s sake against sense and conviction in him were his +further tribute to a character which existed, of course, mainly in this +conjecture. It appeared to him that Kenton was held not only in the +subjection to his wife’s, judgment, which befalls, and doubtless +becomes, a man after many years of marriage, but that he was in the +actual performance of more than common renunciation of his judgment in +deference to the good woman. She in turn, to be sure, offered herself a +sacrifice to the whims of the sick girl, whose worst whim was having +no wish that could be ascertained, and who now, after two days of her +mother’s devotion, was cast upon her own resources by the inconstant +barometer. It had become apparent that Miss Kenton was her father’s +favorite in a special sense, and that his partial affection for her +was of much older date than her mother’s. Not less charming than her +fondness for her father was the openness with which she disabled his +wisdom because of his partiality to her. + + + + +X + +When they left the breakfast table the first morning of the rough +weather, Breckon offered to go on deck with Miss Kenton, and put her +where she could see the waves. That had been her shapeless ambition, +dreamily expressed with reference to some time, as they rose. Breckon +asked, “Why not now?” and he promised to place her chair on deck where +she could enjoy the spectacle safe from any seas the boat might ship. +Then she recoiled, and she recoiled the further upon her father’s +urgence. At the foot of the gangway she looked wistfully up the reeling +stairs, and said that she saw her shawl and Lottie’s among the others +solemnly swaying from the top railing. “Oh, then,” Breckon pressed her, +“you could be made comfortable without the least trouble.” + +“I ought to go and see how Lottie is getting along,” she murmured. + +Her father said he would see for her, and on this she explicitly +renounced her ambition of going up. “You couldn’t do anything,” she +said, coldly. + +“If Miss Lottie is very sea-sick she’s beyond all earthly aid,” Breckon +ventured. “She’d better be left to the vain ministrations of the +stewardess.” + +Ellen looked at him in apparent distrust of his piety, if not of his +wisdom. “I don’t believe I could get up the stairs,” she said. + +“Well,” he admitted, “they’re not as steady as land--going stairs.” Her +father discreetly kept silence, and, as no one offered to help her, she +began to climb the crazy steps, with Breckon close behind her in latent +readiness for her fall. + +From the top she called down to the judge, “Tell momma I will only stay +a minute.” But later, tucked into her chair on the lee of the bulkhead, +with Breckon bracing himself against it beside her, she showed no +impatience to return. “Are they never higher than that” she required +of him, with her wan eyes critically on the infinite procession of the +surges. + +“They must be,” Breckon answered, “if there’s any truth in common +report. I’ve heard of their running mountains high. Perhaps they used +rather low mountains to measure them by. Or the measurements may +not have been very exact. But common report never leaves much to the +imagination.” + +“That was the way at Niagara,” the girl assented; and Breckon obligingly +regretted that he had never been there. He thought it in good taste that +she should not tell him he ought to go. She merely said, “I was there +once with poppa,” and did not press her advantage. “Do they think,” she +asked, “that it’s going to be a very long voyage?” + +“I haven’t been to the smoking-room--that’s where most of the thinking +is done on such points; the ship’s officers never seem to know about +it--since the weather changed. Should you mind it greatly?” + +“I wouldn’t care if it never ended,” said the girl, with such a note of +dire sincerity that Breckon instantly changed his first mind as to her +words implying a pose. She took any deeper implication from them in +adding, “I didn’t know I should like being at sea.” + +“Well, if you’re not sea-sick,” he assented, “there are not many +pleasanter things in life.” + +She suggested, “I suppose I’m not well enough to be sea-sick.” Then she +seemed to become aware of something provisional in his attendance, and +she said, “You mustn’t stay on my account. I can get down when I want +to.” + +“Do let me stay,” he entreated, “unless you’d really rather not,” and +as there was no chair immediately attainable, he crouched on the deck +beside hers. + +“It makes me think,” she said, and he perceived that she meant the sea, +“of the cold-white, heavy plunging foam in ‘The Dream of Fair Women.’ +The words always seemed drenched!” + +“Ah, Tennyson, yes,” said Breckon, with a disposition to smile at the +simple-heartedness of the literary allusion. “Do young ladies read +poetry much in Ohio?” + +“I don’t believe they do,” she answered. “Do they anywhere?” + +“That’s one of the things I should like to know. Is Tennyson your +favorite poet?” + +“I don’t believe I have any,” said Ellen. “I used to like Whither, and +Emerson; aid Longfellow, too.” + +“Used to! Don’t you now?” + +“I don’t read them so much now,” and she made a pause, behind which he +fancied her secret lurked. But he shrank from knowing it if he might. + +“You’re all great readers in your family,” he suggested, as a polite +diversion. + +“Lottie isn’t,” she answered, dreamily. “She hates it.” + +“Ah, I referred more particularly to the others,” said Breckon, and +he began to laugh, and then checked himself. “Your mother, and the +judge--and your brother--” + +“Boyne reads about insects,” she admitted. + +“He told me of his collection of cocoons. He seems to be afraid it has +suffered in his absence.” + +“I’m afraid it has,” said Ellen, and then remained silent. + +“There!” the young man broke out, pointing seaward. “That’s rather a +fine one. Doesn’t that realize your idea of something mountains high? +Unless your mountains are very high in Ohio!” + +“It is grand. And the gulf between! But we haven’t any in our part. It’s +all level. Do you believe the tenth wave is larger than the rest?” + +“Why, the difficulty is to know which the tenth wave is, or when to +begin counting.” + +“Yes,” said the girl, and she added, vaguely: “I suppose it’s like +everything else in that. We have to make-believe before we can believe +anything.” + +“Something like an hypothesis certainly seems necessary,” Breckon +assented, with a smile for the gravity of their discourse. “We shouldn’t +have the atomic theory without it.” She did not say anything, and he +decided that the atomic theory was beyond the range of her reading. He +tried to be more concrete. “We have to make-believe in ourselves before +we can believe, don’t we? And then we sometimes find we are wrong!” He +laughed, but she asked, with tragical seriousness: + +“And what ought you to do when you find out you are mistaken in +yourself?” + +“That’s what I’m trying to decide,” he replied. “Sometimes I feel like +renouncing myself altogether; but usually I give myself another chance. +I dare say if I hadn’t been so forbearing I might have agreed with your +sister about my unfitness for the ministry.” + +“With Lottie?” + +“She thinks I laugh too much!” + +“I don’t see why a minister shouldn’t laugh if he feels like it. And if +there’s something to laugh at.” + +“Ah, that’s just the point! Is there ever anything to laugh at? If we +looked closely enough at things, oughtn’t we rather to cry?” He laughed +in retreat from the serious proposition. “But it wouldn’t do to try +making each other cry instead of laugh, would it? I suppose your sister +would rather have me cry.” + +“I don’t believe Lottie thought much about it,” said Ellen; and at this +point Mr. Breckon yielded to an impulse. + +“I should think I had really been of some use if I had made you laugh, +Miss Kenton.” + +“Me?” + +“You look as if you laughed with your whole heart when you did laugh.” + +She glanced about, and Breckon decided that she had found him too +personal. “I wonder if I could walk, with the ship tipping so?” she +asked. + +“Well, not far,” said Breckon, with a provisional smile, and then he was +frightened from his irony by her flinging aside her wraps and starting +to her feet. Before he could scramble to his own, she had slid down +the reeling promenade half to the guard, over which she seemed about to +plunge. He hurled himself after her; he could not have done otherwise; +and it was as much in a wild clutch for support as in a purpose to save +her that he caught her in his arms and braced himself against the ship’s +slant. “Where are you going? What are you trying to do?” he shouted. + +“I wanted to go down-stairs,” she protested, clinging to him. + +“You were nearer going overboard,” he retorted. “You shouldn’t have +tried.” He had not fully formulated his reproach when the ship righted +herself with a counter-roll and plunge, and they were swung staggering +back together against the bulkhead. The door of the gangway was within +reach, and Breckon laid hold of the rail beside it and put the girl +within. “Are you hurt?” he asked. + +“No, no; I’m not hurt,” she panted, sinking on the cushioned benching +where usually rows of semi-sea-sick people were lying. + +“I thought you might have been bruised against the bulkhead,” he said. +“Are you sure you’re not hurt that I can’t get you anything? From the +steward, I mean?” + +“Only help me down-stairs,” she answered. “I’m perfectly well,” and +Breckon was so willing on these terms to close the incident that he was +not aware of the bruise on his own arm, which afterwards declared itself +in several primitive colors. “Don’t tell them,” she added. “I want to +come up again.” + +“Why, certainly not,” he consented; but Boyne Kenton, who had been an +involuntary witness of the fact from a point on the forward promenade, +where he had stationed himself to study the habits of the stormy petrel +at a moment so favorable to the acquaintance of the petrel (having +left a seasick bed for the purpose), was of another mind. He had been +alarmed, and, as it appeared in the private interview which he demanded +of his mother, he had been scandalized. + +“It is bad enough the way Lottie is always going on with fellows. And +now, if Ellen is going to begin!” + +“But, Boyne, child,” Mrs. Kenton argued, in an equilibrium between the +wish to laugh at her son and the wish to box his ears, “how could she +help his catching her if he was to save her from pitching overboard?” + +“That’s just it! He will always think that she did it just so he would +have to catch her.” + +“I don’t believe any one would think that of Ellen,” said Mrs. Kenton, +gravely. + +“Momma! You don’t know what these Eastern fellows are. There are so few +of them that they’re used to having girls throw themselves at them, and +they will think anything, ministers and all. You ought to talk to Ellen, +and caution her. Of course, she isn’t like Lottie; but if Lottie’s +been behaving her way with Mr. Breckon, he must suppose the rest of the +family is like her.” + +“Boyne,” said his mother, provisionally, “what sort of person is Mr. +Breckon?” + +“Well, I think he’s kind of frivolous.” + +“Do you, Boyne?” + +“I don’t suppose he means any harm by it, but I don’t like to see a +minister laugh so much. I can’t hardly get him to talk seriously about +anything. And I just know he makes fun of Lottie. I don’t mean that he +always makes fun with me. He didn’t that night at the vaudeville, where +I first saw him.” + +“What do you mean?” + +“Don’t you remember? I told you about it last winter.” + +“And was Mr. Breckon that gentleman?” + +“Yes; but he didn’t know who I was when we met here.” + +“Well, upon my word, Boyne, I think you might have told us before,” said +his mother, in not very definite vexation. “Go along, now!” + +Boyne stood talking to his mother, with his hands, which he had not +grown to, largely planted on the jambs of her state-room door. She was +keeping her berth, not so much because she was sea-sick as because it +was the safest place in the unsteady ship to be in. “Do you want me to +send Ellen to you!” + +“I will attend to Ellen, Boyne,” his mother snubbed him. “How is +Lottie?” + +“I can’t tell whether she’s sick or not. I went to see about her and she +motioned me away, and fairly screamed when I told her she ought to keep +out in the air. Well, I must be going up again myself, or--” + +Before lunch, Boyne had experienced the alternative which he did not +express, although his theory and practice of keeping in the open air +ought to have rendered him immune. Breckon saw his shock of hair, and +his large eyes, like Ellen’s in their present gloom, looking out of it +on the pillow of the upper berth, when he went to their room to freshen +himself for the luncheon, and found Boyne averse even to serious +conversation: He went to lunch without him. None of the Kentons were at +table, and he had made up his mind to lunch alone when Ellen appeared, +and came wavering down the aisle to the table. He stood up to help her, +but seeing how securely she stayed herself from chair to chair he sank +down again. + +“Poppy is sick, too, now,” she replied, as if to account for being +alone. + +“And you’re none the worse for your little promenade?” The steward came +to Breckon’s left shoulder with a dish, and after an effort to serve +himself from it he said, with a slight gasp, “The other side, please.” + Ellen looked at him, but did not speak, and he made haste to say: “The +doctor goes so far as to admit that its half a gale. I don’t know just +what measure the first officer would have for it. But I congratulate you +on a very typical little storm, Miss Kenton; perfectly safe, but very +decided. A great many people cross the Atlantic without anything half +as satisfactory. There is either too much or too little of this sort +of thing.” He went on talking about the weather, and had got such a +distance from the point of beginning that he had cause to repent being +brought back to it when she asked: + +“Did the doctor think, you were hurt?” + +“Well, perhaps I ought to be more ashamed than I am,” said Breckon. “But +I thought I had better make sure. And it’s only a bruise--” + +“Won’t you let ME help you!” she asked, as another dish intervened at +his right. “I hurt you.” + +Breckon laughed at her solemn face and voice. “If you’ll exonerate +yourself first,” he answered: “I couldn’t touch a morsel that conveyed +confession of the least culpability on your part. Do you consent? +Otherwise, I pass this dish. And really I want some!” + +“Well,” she sadly consented, and he allowed her to serve his plate. + +“More yet, please,” he said. “A lot!” + +“Is that enough?” + +“Well, for the first helping. And don’t offer to cut it up for me! My +proud spirit draws the line at cutting up. Besides, a fork will do the +work with goulash.” + +“Is that what it is?” she asked, but not apparently because she cared to +know. + +“Unless you prefer to naturalize it as stew. It seems to have come in +with the Hungarian bands. I suppose you have them in--” + +“Tuskingum? No, it is too small. But I heard them at a restaurant in New +York where my brother took us.” + +“In the spirit of scientific investigation? It’s strange how a common +principle seems to pervade both the Hungarian music and cooking--the +same wandering airs and flavors--wild, vague, lawless harmonies in both. +Did you notice it?” + +Ellen shook her head. The look of gloom which seemed to Breckon habitual +in it came back into her face, and he had a fantastic temptation to +see how far he could go with her sad consciousness before she should +be aware that he was experimenting upon it. He put this temptation from +him, and was in the enjoyment of a comfortable self-righteousness when +it returned in twofold power upon him with the coming of some cutlets +which capriciously varied the repast. + +“Ah, now, Miss Kenton, if you were to take pity on my helplessness!” + +“Why, certainly!” She possessed herself of his plate, and began to cut +up the meat for him. “Am I making the bites too small?” she asked, with +an upward glance at him. + +“Well, I don’t know. Should you think so?” he returned, with a smile +that out-measured the morsels on the plate before her. + +She met his laughing eyes with eyes that questioned his honesty, at +first sadly, and then indignantly. She dropped the knife and fork upon +the plate and rose. + +“Oh, Miss Kenton!” he penitently entreated. + +But she was down the slanting aisle and out of the reeling door before +he could decide what to do. + + + + +XI. + +It seemed to Breckon that he had passed through one of those accessions +of temperament, one of those crises of natural man, to put it in the +terms of an older theology than he professed, that might justify him in +recurring to his original sense of his unfitness for his sacred calling, +as he would hardly ham called it: He had allowed his levity to get the +better of his sympathy, and his love of teasing to overpower that love +of helping which seemed to him his chief right and reason for being a +minister: To play a sort of poor practical joke upon that melancholy +girl (who was also so attractive) was not merely unbecoming to him as +a minister; it was cruel; it was vulgar; it was ungentlemanly. He could +not say less than ungentlemanly, for that seemed to give him the only +pang that did him any good. Her absolute sincerity had made her such +an easy prey that he ought to have shrunk from the shabby temptation in +abhorrence. + +It is the privilege of a woman, whether she wills it or not, to put a +man who is in the wrong concerning her much further in the wrong than he +could be from his offence. Breckon did not know whether he was suffering +more or less because he was suffering quite hopelessly, but he was sure +that he was suffering justly, and he was rather glad, if anything, that +he must go on suffering. His first impulse had been to go at once to +Judge Kenton and own his wrong, and take the consequences--in fact, +invite them. But Breckon forbore for two reasons: one, that he had +already appeared before the judge with the confession of having possibly +made an unclerical joke to his younger daughter; the other, that the +judge might not consider levity towards the elder so venial; and though +Breckon wished to be both punished and pardoned, in the final analysis, +perhaps, he most wished to be pardoned. Without pardon he could see no +way to repair the wrong he had done. Perhaps he wished even to retrieve +himself in the girl’s eyes, or wished for the chance of trying. + +Ellen went away to her state-room and sat down on the sofa opposite +Lottie, and she lost herself in a muse in which she was found by the +voice of the sufferer in the berth. + +“If you haven’t got anything better to do than come in here and stare +at me, I wish you would go somewhere else and stare. I can tell you it +isn’t any joke.” + +“I didn’t know I was staring at you,” said Ellen, humbly. + +“It would be enough to have you rising and sinking there, without your +staring at all: If you’re going to stay, I wish you’d lie down. I don’t +see why you’re so well, anyway, after getting us all to come on this +wild-goose chase.” + +“I know, I know,” Ellen strickenly deprecated. “But I’m not going to +stay. I jest came for my things.” + +“Is that giggling simpleton sick? I hope he is!” + +“Mr. Breckon?” Ellen asked, though she knew whom Lottie meant. “No, he +isn’t sick. He was at lunch.” + +“Was poppa?” + +“He was at breakfast.” + +“And momma?” + +“She and Boyne are both in bed. I don’t know whether they’re very sick.” + +“Well, then, I’ll just tell you what, Ellen Kenton!” Lottie sat up in +accusal. “You were staring at something he said; and the first thing we +all know it will be another case of Bittridge!” Ellen winced, but Lottie +had no pity. “You don’t know it, because you don’t know anything, and +I’m not blaming you; but if you let that simpleton--I don’t care if he +is a minister!--go ‘round with you when your family are all sick abed, +you’ll be having the whole ship to look after you.” + +“Be still, Lottie!” cried Ellen. “You are awful,” and, with a flaming +face, she escaped from the state-room. + +She did not know where else to go, and she beat along the sides of the +corridor as far as the dining-saloon. She had a dim notion of trying to +go up into the music-room above, but a glance at the reeling steep of +the stairs forbade. With her wraps on her arm and her sea-cap in her +hand, she stood clinging to the rail-post. + +Breckon came out of the saloon. “Oh, Miss Kenton,” he humbly entreated, +“don’t try to go on deck! It’s rougher than ever.” + +“I was going to the music-room,” she faltered. + +“Let me help you, then,” he said again. They mounted the gangway-steps, +but this time with his hand under her elbow, and his arm alert as before +in a suspended embrace against her falling. + +She had lost the initiative of her earlier adventure; she could only +submit herself to his guidance. But he almost outdid her in meekness, +when he got her safely placed in a corner whence she could not be easily +flung upon the floor. “You must have found it very stuffy below; but, +indeed, you’d better not try going out.” + +“Do you think it isn’t safe here?” she asked. + +“Oh yes. As long as you keep quiet. May I get you something to read? +They seem to have a pretty good little library.” + +They both glanced at the case of books; from which the steward-librarian +was setting them the example of reading a volume. + +“No, I don’t want to read. You musn’t let me keep you from it.” + +“Well, one can read any time. But one hasn’t always the chance to say +that one is ashamed. Don’t pretend you don’t understand, Miss Kenton! +I didn’t really mean anything. The temptation to let you exaggerate my +disability was too much for me. Say that you despise me! It would be +such a comfort.” + +“Weren’t you hurt?” + +“A little--a little more than a little, but not half so much as I +deserved--not to the point of not being able to cut up my meat. Am I +forgiven? I’ll promise to cut up all your meat for you at dinner! Ah, +I’m making it worse!” + +“Oh no. Please don’t speak of it” + +“Could you forbid my thinking of it, too?” He did not wait for her to +answer. “Then here goes! One, two, three, and the thought is banished +forever. Now what shall we speak of, or think of? We finished up the +weather pretty thoroughly this morning. And if you have not the weather +and the ship’s run when you’re at sea, why, you are at sea. Don’t you +think it would be a good plan, when they stick those little flags into +the chart, to show how far we’ve come in the last twenty-four hours, if +they’d supply a topic for the day? They might have topics inscribed on +the flags-standard topics, that would serve for any voyage. We might +leave port with History--say, personal history; that would pave the way +to a general acquaintance among the passengers. Then Geography, and if +the world is really round, and what keeps the sea from spilling. Then +Politics, and the comparative advantages of monarchical and republican +governments, for international discussion. Then Pathology, and whether +you’re usually sea-sick, and if there is any reliable remedy. Then--for +those who are still up--Poetry and Fiction; whether women really like +Kipling, and what kind of novels you prefer. There ought to be about +ten topics. These boats are sometimes very slow. Can’t you suggest +something, Miss Kenton? There is no hurry! We’ve got four to talk over, +for we must bring up the arrears, you know. And now we’ll begin with +personal history. Your sister doesn’t approve of me, does she?” + +“My sister?” Ellen faltered, and, between the conscience to own the fact +and the kindness to deny it, she stopped altogether. + +“I needn’t have asked. She told me so herself, in almost as many words. +She said I was slippery, and as close as a trap. Miss Kenton! I have the +greatest wish to know whether I affect you as both slippery and close!” + +“I don’t always know what Lottie means.” + +“She means what she says; and I feel that I am under condemnation till +I reform. I don’t know how to stop being slippery, but I’m determined to +stop being close. Will you tell her that for me? Will you tell her +that you never met an opener, franker person?--of course, except +herself!--and that so far from being light I seemed to you particularly +heavy? Say that I did nothing but talk about myself, and that when you +wanted to talk about yourself you couldn’t get in a word edgewise. Do +try, now, Miss Kenton, and see if you can! I don’t want you to invent a +character for me, quite.” + +“Why, there’s nothing to say about me,” she began in compliance with his +gayety, and then she fell helpless from it. + +“Well, then, about Tuskingum. I should like to hear about Tuskingum, so +much!” + +“I suppose we like it because we’ve always lived there. You haven’t been +much in the West, have you?” + +“Not as much as I hope to be.” He had found that Western people were +sometimes sensitive concerning their section and were prepared to +resent complacent ignorance of it. “I’ve always thought it must be very +interesting.” + +“It isn’t,” said the girl. “At least, not like the East. I used to be +provoked when the lecturers said anything like that; but when you’ve +been to New York you see what they mean.” + +“The lecturers?” he queried. + +“They always stayed at our house when they lectured in Tuskingum.” + +“Ah! Oh yes,” said Breckon, grasping a situation of which he had heard +something, chiefly satirical. “Of course. And is your father--is Judge +Kenton literary? Excuse me!” + +“Only in his history. He’s writing the history of his regiment; or he +gets the soldiers to write down all they can remember of the war, and +then he puts their stories together.” + +“How delightful!” said Breckon. “And I suppose it’s a great pleasure to +him.” + +“I don’t believe it is,” said Ellen. “Poppa doesn’t believe in war any +more.” + +“Indeed!” said Breckon. “That is very interesting.” + +“Sometimes when I’m helping him with it--” + +“Ah, I knew you must help him!” + +“And he comes to a place where there has been a dreadful slaughter, it +seems as if he felt worse about it than I did. He isn’t sure that it +wasn’t all wrong. He thinks all war is wrong now.” + +“Is he--has he become a follower of Tolstoy?” + +“He’s read him. He says he’s the only man that ever gave a true account +of battles; but he had thought it all out for himself before he read +Tolstoy about fighting. Do you think it is right to revenge an injury?” + +“Why, surely not!” said Breckon, rather startled. + +“That is what we say,” the girl pursued. “But if some one had injured +you--abused your confidence, and--insulted you, what would you do?” + +“I’m not sure that I understand,” Breckon began. The inquiry was +superficially impersonal, but he reflected that women are never +impersonal, or the sons of women, for that matter, and he suspected an +intimate ground. His suspicions were confirmed when Miss Kenton said: +“It seems easy enough to forgive anything that’s done to yourself; but +if it’s done to some one else, too, have you the right--isn’t it wrong +to let it go?” + +“You think the question of justice might come in then? Perhaps it ought. +But what is justice? And where does your duty begin to be divided?” He +saw her following him with alarming intensity, and he shrank from the +responsibility before him. What application might not she make of his +words in the case, whatever it was, which he chose not to imagine? “To +tell you the truth, Miss Kenton, I’m not very clear on that point--I’m +not sure that I’m disinterested.” + +“Disinterested?” + +“Yes; you know that I abused your confidence at luncheon; and until I +know whether the wrong involved any one else--” He looked at her with +hovering laughter in his eyes which took wing at the reproach in hers. +“But if we are to be serious--” + +“Oh no,” she said, “it isn’t a serious matter.” But in the helplessness +of her sincerity she could not carry it off lightly, or hide from him +that she was disappointed. + +He tried to make talk about other things. She responded vaguely, and +when she had given herself time she said she believed she would go +to Lottie; she was quite sure she could get down the stairs alone. He +pursued her anxiously, politely, and at the head of her corridor took +leave of her with a distinct sense of having merited his dismissal. + +“I see what you mean, Lottie,” she said, “about Mr. Breckon.” + +Lottie did not turn her head on the pillow. “Has it taken you the whole +day to find it out?” + + + + +XII. + +The father and the mother had witnessed with tempered satisfaction +the interest which seemed to be growing up between Ellen and the young +minister. By this time they had learned not to expect too much of any +turn she might take; she reverted to a mood as suddenly as she left it. +They could not quite make out Breckon himself; he was at least as great +a puzzle to them as their own child was. + +“It seems,” said Mrs. Kenton, in their first review of the affair, after +Boyne had done a brother’s duty in trying to bring Ellen under their +mother’s censure, “that he was the gentleman who discussed the theatre +with Boyne at the vaudeville last winter. Boyne just casually mentioned +it. I was so provoked!” + +“I don’t see what bearing the fact has,” the judge remarked. + +“Why, Boyne liked him very much that night, but now he seems to feel +very much as Lottie does about him. He thinks he laughs too much.” + +“I don’t know that there’s much harm in that,” said the judge. “And I +shouldn’t value Boyne’s opinion of character very highly.” + +“I value any one’s intuitions--especially children’s.” + +“Boyne’s in that middle state where he isn’t quite a child. And so is +Lottie, for that matter.” + +“That is true,” their mother assented. “And we ought to be glad of +anything that takes Ellen’s mind off herself. If I could only believe +she was forgetting that wretch!” + +“Does she ever speak of him?” + +“She never hints of him, even. But her mind may be full of him all the +time.” + +The judge laughed impatiently. “It strikes me that this young Mr. +Breckon hasn’t much advantage of Ellen in what Lottie calls closeness!” + +“Ellen has always been very reserved. It would have been better for her +if she hadn’t. Oh, I scarcely dare to hope anything! Rufus, I feel that +in everything of this kind we are very ignorant and inexperienced.” + +“Inexperienced!” Renton retorted. “I don’t want any more experience of +the kind Ellen has given us.” + +“I don’t mean that. I mean--this Mr. Breckon. I can’t tell what attracts +him in the child. She must appear very crude and uncultivated to him. +You needn’t resent it so! I know she’s read a great deal, and you’ve +made her think herself intellectual--but the very simple-heartedness of +the way she would show out her reading would make such a young man see +that she wasn’t like the girls he was used to. They would hide their +intellectuality, if they had any. It’s no use your trying to fight it +Mr. Kenton. We are country people, and he knows it.” + +“Tuskingum isn’t country!” the judge declared. + +“It isn’t city. And we don’t know anything about the world, any of us. +Oh, I suppose we can read and write! But we don’t know the a, b, c of +the things he, knows. He, belongs to a kind of society--of people--in +New York that I had glimpses of in the winter, but that I never imagined +before. They made me feel very belated and benighted--as if I hadn’t, +read or thought anything. They didn’t mean to; but I couldn’t help it, +and they couldn’t.” + +“You--you’ve been frightened out of your propriety by what you’ve seen +in New York,” said her husband. + +“I’ve been frightened, certainly. And I wish you had been, too. I wish +you wouldn’t be so conceited about Ellen. It scares me to see you so. +Poor, sick thing, her looks are all gone! You must see that. And she +doesn’t dress like the girls he’s used to. I know we’ve got her things +in New York; but she doesn’t wear them like a New-Yorker. I hope she +isn’t going in for MORE unhappiness!” + +At the thought of this the judge’s crest fell. “Do you believe she’s +getting interested in him?” he asked, humbly. + +“No, no; I don’t say that. But promise me you won’t encourage her in it. +And don’t, for pity’s sake, brag about her to him.” + +“No, I won’t,” said the judge, and he tacitly repented having done so. + +The weather had changed, and when he went up from this interview +with his wife in their stateroom he found a good many people strung +convalescently along the promenade on their steamer-chairs. These, so +far as they were women, were of such sick plainness that when he came +to Ellen his heart throbbed with a glad resentment of her mother’s +aspersion of her health and beauty. She looked not only very well, and +very pretty, but in a gay red cap and a trig jacket she looked, to her +father’s uncritical eyes, very stylish. The glow left his heart at eight +of the empty seat beside her. + +“Where is Lottie?” he asked, though it was not Lottie’s whereabouts that +interested him. + +“Oh, she’s walking with Mr. Breckon somewhere,” said Ellen. + +“Then she’s made up her mind to tolerate him, has she?” the father +asked, more lightly than he felt. + +Ellen smiled. “That wasn’t anything very serious, I guess. At any rate, +she’s walking with him.” + +“What book is that?” he asked, of the volume she was tilting back and +forth under her hand. + +She showed it. “One of his. He brought it up to amuse me, he said.” + +“While he was amusing himself with Lottie,” thought the judge, in his +jealousy for her. “It is going the same old way. Well!” What he said +aloud was, “And is it amusing you?” + +“I haven’t looked at it yet,” said the girl. “It’s amusing enough to +watch the sea. Oh, poppa! I never thought I should care so much for it.” + +“And you’re glad we came?” + +“I don’t want to think about that. I just want to know that I’m here.” + She pressed his arm gently, significantly, where he sat provisionally +in the chair beside her, and he was afraid to speak lest he should scare +away the hope her words gave him. + +He merely said, “Well, well!” and waited for her to speak further. But +her impulse had exhausted itself, as if her spirit were like one of +those weak forms of life which spend their strength in a quick run or +flight, and then rest to gather force for another. “Where’s Boyne?” he +asked, after waiting for her to speak. + +“He was here a minute ago. He’s been talking with some of the deck +passengers that are going home because they couldn’t get on in America. +Doesn’t that seem pitiful, poppa? I always thought we had work enough +for the whole world.” + +“Perhaps these fellows didn’t try very hard to find it,” said the judge. + +“Perhaps,” she assented. + +“I shouldn’t want you to get to thinking that it’s all like New York. +Remember how comfortable everybody is in Tuskingum.” + +“Yes,” she said, sadly. “How far off Tuskingum seems!” + +“Well, don’t forget about it; and remember that wherever life is +simplest and purest and kindest, that is the highest civilization.” + +“How much like old times it seems to hear you talk that way, poppa! I +should think I was in the library at home. And I made you leave it!” she +sighed. + +“Your mother was glad of any excuse. And it will do us all good, if we +take it in the right way,” said the judge, with a didactic severity that +did not hide his pang from her. + +“Poor poppa!” she said. + +He went away, saying that he was going to look Lottie up. His simple +design was to send Lottie to her mother, so that Breckon might come back +to Ellen; but he did not own this to himself. + +Lottie returned from another direction with Boyne, and Ellen said, +“Poppa’s gone to look for you.” + +“Has he?” asked Lottie, dropping decisively into her chair. “Well, +there’s one thing; I won’t call him poppa any more.” + +“What will you call him?” Boyne demanded, demurely. + +“I’ll call him father, it you want to know; and I’m going to call momma, +mother. I’m not going to have those English laughing at us, and I won’t +say papa and mamma. Everybody that knows anything says father and mother +now.” + +Boyne kept looking from one sister to another during Lottie’s +declaration, and, with his eyes on Ellen, he said, “It’s true, Ellen. +All the Plumptons did.” He was very serious. + +Ellen smiled. “I’m too old to change. I’d rather seem queer in Europe +than when I get back to Tuskingum.” + +“You wouldn’t be queer there a great while,” said Lottie. “They’ll all +be doing it in a week after I get home.” + +Upon the encouragement given him by Ellen, Boyne seized the chance +of being of the opposition. “Yes,” he taunted Lottie, “and you think +they’ll say woman and man, for lady and gentleman, I suppose.” + +“They will as soon as they know it’s the thing.” + +“Well, I know I won’t,” said Boyne. “I won’t call momma a woman.” + +“It doesn’t matter what you do, Boyne dear,” his sister serenely assured +him. + +While he stood searching his mind for a suitable retort, a young man, +not apparently many years his senior, came round the corner of the +music-room, and put himself conspicuously in view at a distance from the +Kentons. + +“There he is, now,” said Boyne. “He wants to be introduced to Lottie.” + He referred the question to Ellen, but Lottie answered for her. + +“Then why don’t you introduce him?” + +“Well, I would if he was an American. But you can’t tell about these +English.” He resumed the dignity he had lost in making the explanation +to Lottie, and ignored her in turning again to Ellen. “What do you +think, Ellen?” + +“Oh, don’t know about such things, Boyne,” she said, shrinking from the +responsibility. + +“Well; upon my word!” cried Lottie. “If Ellen can talk by the hour +with that precious Mr. Breckon, and stay up here along with him, when +everybody else is down below sick, I don’t think she can have a great +deal to say about a half-grown boy like that being introduced to me.” + +“He’s as old as you are,” said Boyne, hotly. + +“Oh! I saw him associating with you, and I thought he was a boy, too. +Pardon me!” Lottie turned from giving Boyne his coup-de-grace, to plant +a little stab in Ellen’s breast. “To be sure, now Mr. Breckon has found +those friends of his, I suppose he won’t want to flirt with Ellen any +more.” + +“Ah, ha, ha!” Boyne broke in. “Lottie is mad because he stopped to speak +to some ladies he knew. Women, I suppose she’d call them.” + +“Well, I shouldn’t call him a gentleman, anyway,” said Lottie. + +The pretty, smooth-faced, fresh-faced young fellow whom their varying +debate had kept in abeyance, looked round at them over his shoulder as +he leaned on the rail, and seemed to discover Boyne for the first time. +He came promptly towards the Kentons. + +“Now,” said Lottie, rapidly, “you’ll just HAVE to.” + +The young fellow touched his cap to the whole group, but he ventured to +address only Boyne. + +“Every one seems to be about this morning,” he said, with the cheery +English-rising infection. + +“Yes,” answered Boyne, with such snubbing coldness that Ellen’s heart +was touched. + +“It’s so pleasant,” she said, “after that dark weather.” + +“Isn’t it?” cried the young fellow, gratefully. “One doesn’t often get +such sunshine as this at sea, you know.” + +“My sister, Miss Kenton, Mr. Pogis,” Boyne solemnly intervened. “And +Miss Lottie Kenton.” + +The pretty boy bowed to each in turn, but he made no pretence of +being there to talk with Ellen. “Have you been ill, too?” he actively +addressed himself to Lottie. + +“No, just mad,” she said. “I wasn’t very sick, and that made it all the +worse being down in a poky state-room when I wanted to walk.” + +“And I suppose you’ve been making up for lost time this morning?” + +“Not half,” said Lottie. + +“Oh, do finish the half with me!” + +Lottie instantly rose, and flung her sister the wrap she had been +holding ready to shed from the moment the young man had come up. “Keep +that for me, Nell. Are you good at catching?” she asked him. + +“Catching?” + +“Yes! People,” she explained, and at a sudden twist of the ship she made +a clutch at his shoulder. + +“Oh! I think I can catch you.” + +As they moved off together, Boyne said, “Well, upon my word!” but Ellen +did not say anything in comment on Lottie. After a while she asked, “Who +were the ladies that Mr. Breckon met?” + +“I didn’t hear their names. They were somebody he hadn’t seen before +since the ship started. They looked like a young lady and her mother. +It made Lottie mad when he stopped to speak with them, and she wouldn’t +wait till he could get through. Ran right away, and made me come, too.” + + + + +XIII. + +Breckon had not seen the former interest between himself and Ellen +lapse to commonplace acquaintance without due sense of loss. He suffered +justly, but he did not suffer passively, or without several attempts +to regain the higher ground. In spite of these he was aware of being +distinctly kept to the level which he accused himself of having chosen, +by a gentle acquiescence in his choice more fatal than snubbing. The +advances that he made across the table, while he still met Miss Kenton +alone there, did not carry beyond the rack supporting her plate. She +talked on whatever subject he started with that angelic sincerity which +now seemed so far from him, but she started none herself; she did not +appeal to him for his opinion upon any question more psychological than +the barometer; and, + + “In a tumultuous privacy of storm,” + +he found himself as much estranged from her as if a fair-weather crowd +had surrounded them. He did not believe that she resented the levity he +had shown; but he had reason to fear that she had finally accepted it as +his normal mood, and in her efforts to meet him in it, as if he had no +other, he read a tolerance that was worse than contempt. When he tried +to make her think differently, if that was what she thought of him, +he fancied her rising to the notion he wished to give her, and then +shrinking from it, as if it must bring her the disappointment of some +trivial joke. + +It was what he had taught her to expect of him, and he had himself to +blame. Now that he had thrown that precious chance away, he might well +have overvalued it. She had certain provincialisms which he could not +ignore. She did not know the right use of will and shall, and would and +should, and she pronounced the letter ‘r’ with a hard mid-Western twist. +Her voice was weak and thin, and she could not govern it from being at +times a gasp and at times a drawl. She did not dress with the authority +of women who know more of their clothes than the people they buy them +of; she did not carry herself like a pretty girl; she had not the +definite stamp of young-ladyism. Yet she was undoubtedly a lady in every +instinct; she wore with pensive grace the clothes which she had not +subjected to her personal taste; and if she did not carry herself like a +pretty girl, she had a beauty which touched and entreated. + +More and more Breckon found himself studying her beauty--her soft, brown +brows, her gentle, dark eyes, a little sunken, and with the lids pinched +by suffering; the cheeks somewhat thin, but not colorless; the long +chin, the clear forehead, and the massed brown hair, that seemed too +heavy for the drooping neck. It was not the modern athletic type; it +was rather of the earlier period, when beauty was associated with the +fragility despised by a tanned and golfing generation. Ellen Kenton’s +wrists were thin, and her hands long and narrow. As he looked at her +across the racks during those two days of storm, he had sometimes the +wish to take her long, narrow hands in his, and beg her to believe that +he was worthier her serious friendship than he had shown himself. What +he was sure of at all times now was that he wished to know the secret +of that patient pathos of hers. She was not merely, or primarily, an +invalid. Her family had treated her as an invalid, but, except Lottie, +whose rigor might have been meant sanatively, they treated her more with +the tenderness people use with a wounded spirit; and Breckon fancied +moments of something like humility in her, when she seemed to cower from +his notice. These were not so imaginable after her family took to their +berths and left her alone with him, but the touching mystery remained, a +sort of bewilderment, as he guessed it, a surprise such as a child +might show at some incomprehensible harm. It was this grief which he had +refused not merely to know--he still doubted his right to know it--but +to share; he had denied not only his curiosity but his sympathy, and +had exiled himself to a region where, when her family came back with +the fair weather, he felt himself farther from her than before their +acquaintance began. + +He had made an overture to its renewal in the book he lent her, and then +Mrs. Rasmith and her daughter had appeared on deck, and borne down +upon him when he was walking with Lottie Kenton and trying to begin his +self-retrieval through her. She had left him; but they had not, and in +the bonds of a prophet and his followers he found himself bound with +them for much more conversation than he had often held with them ashore. +The parochial duties of an ethical teacher were not strenuous, and +Breckon had not been made to feel them so definitely before. Mrs. +Rasmith held that they now included promising to sit at her table for +the rest of the voyage; but her daughter succeeded in releasing him from +the obligation; and it was she who smilingly detached the clinging +hold of the elder lady. “We mustn’t keep Mr. Breckon from his friends, +mother,” she said, brightly, and then he said he should like the +pleasure of introducing them, and both of the ladies declared that they +would be delighted. + +He bowed himself off, and half the ship’s-length away he was aware, from +meeting Lottie with her little Englishman, that it was she and not Ellen +whom he was seeking. As the couple paused in whirring past Breckon long +enough to let Lottie make her hat fast against the wind, he heard the +Englishman shout: + +“I say, that sister of yours is a fine girl, isn’t she?” + +“She’s a pretty good--looker,” Lottie answered back. “What’s the matter +with HER sister?” + +“Oh, I say!” her companion returned, in a transport with her slangy +pertness, which Breckon could not altogether refuse to share. + +He thought that he ought to condemn it, and he did condemn Mrs. Kenton +for allowing it in one of her daughters, when he came up to her sitting +beside another whom he felt inexpressibly incapable of it. Mrs. Kenton +could have answered his censure, if she had known it, that daughters, +like sons, were not what their mothers but what their environments made +them, and that the same environment sometimes made them different, as he +saw. She could have told him that Lottie, with her slangy pertness, had +the truest and best of the men she knew at her feet, and that Ellen, +with her meekness, had been the prey of the commonest and cheapest +spirit in her world, and so left him to make an inference as creditable +to his sex as he could. But this bold defence was as far from the poor +lady as any spoken reproach was from him. Her daughter had to check in +her a mechanical offer to rise, as if to give Breckon her place, the +theory and practice of Tuskingum being that their elders ought to leave +young people alone together. + +“Don’t go, momma,” Ellen whispered. “I don’t want you to go.” + +Breckon, when he arrived before them, remained talking on foot, and, +unlike Lottie’s company, he talked to the mother. This had happened +before from him, but she had not got used to it, and now she deprecated +in everything but words his polite questions about her sufferings from +the rough weather, and his rejoicing that the worst was probably over. +She ventured the hope that it was so, for she said that Mr. Kenton had +about decided to keep on to Holland, and it seemed to her that they had +had enough of storms. He said he was glad that they were going right on; +and then she modestly recurred to the earlier opinion he had given +her husband that it would be better to spend the rest of the summer in +Holland than to go to Italy, as if she wished to conform herself in the +wisdom of Mr. Kenton’s decision. He repeated his conviction, and he said +that if he were in their place he should go to The Hague as soon as they +had seen Rotterdam, and make it their headquarters for the exploration +of the whole country. + +“You can’t realize how little it is; you can get anywhere in an hour; +the difficulty is to keep inside of Holland when you leave any given +point. I envy you going there.” + +Mrs. Kenton inferred that he was going to stop in France, but if it were +part of his closeness not to tell, it was part of her pride not to ask. +She relented when he asked if he might get a map of his and prove the +littleness of Holland from it, and in his absence she could not well +avoid saying to Ellen, “He seems very pleasant.” + +“Yes; why not?” the girl asked. + +“I don’t know. Lottie is so against him.” + +“He was very kind when you were all sick.” + +“Well, you ought to know better than Lottie; you’ve seen him so much +more.” Ellen was silent, and her mother advanced cautiously, “I suppose +he is very cultivated.” + +“How can I tell? I’m not.” + +“Why, Ellen, I think you are. Very few girls have read so much.” + +“Yes, but he wouldn’t care if I were cultivated, Ha is like all the +rest. He would like to joke and laugh. Well, I think that is nice, too, +and I wish I could do it. But I never could, and now I can’t try. I +suppose he wonders what makes me such a dead weight on you all.” + +“You know you’re not that, Ellen! You musn’t let yourself be morbid. It +hurts me to have you say such things.” + +“Well, I should like to tell him why, and see what he would say.” + +“Ellen!” + +“Why not? If he is a minister he must have thought about all kinds +of things. Do you suppose he ever knew of a girl before who had been +through what I have? Yes, I would like to know what he would really +say.” + +“I know what he ought to say! If he knew, he would say that no girl had +ever behaved more angelically.” + +“Do you think he would? Perhaps he would say that if I hadn’t been so +proud and silly--Here he comes! Shall we ask him?” + +Breckon approached with his map, and her mother gasped, thinking how +terrible such a thing would be if it could be; Ellen smiled brightly up +at him. “Will you take my chair? And then you can show momma your map. I +am going down,” and while he was still protesting she was gone. + +“Miss Kenton seems so much better than she did the first day,” he said, +as he spread the map out on his knees, and gave Mrs. Kenton one end to +hold. + +“Yes,” the mother assented, as she bent over to look at it. + +She followed his explanation with a surface sense, while her nether mind +was full of the worry of the question which Ellen had planted in it. +What would such a man think of what she had been through? Or, rather, +how would he say to her the only things that in Mrs. Kenton’s belief he +could say? How could the poor child ever be made to see it in the +light of some mind not colored with her family’s affection for her? An +immense, an impossible longing possessed itself of the mother’s heart, +which became the more insistent the more frantic it appeared. She +uttered “Yes” and “No” and “Indeed” to what he was saying, but all the +time she was rehearsing Ellen’s story in her inner sense. In the end she +remembered so little what had actually passed that her dramatic reverie +seemed the reality, and when she left him she got herself down to +her state-room, giddy with the shame and fear of her imaginary +self-betrayal. She wished to test the enormity, and yet not find it so +monstrous, by submitting the case to her husband, and she could scarcely +keep back her impatience at seeing Ellen instead of her father. + +“Momma, what have you been saying to Mr. Breckon about me?” + +“Nothing,” said Mrs. Kenton, aghast at first, and then astonished to +realize that she was speaking the simple truth. “He said how much better +you were looking; but I don’t believe I spoke a single word. We were +looking at the map.” + +“Very well,” Ellen resumed. “I have been thinking it all over, and now I +have made up my mind.” + +She paused, and her mother asked, tremulously, “About what, Ellen?” + +“You know, momma. I see all now. You needn’t be afraid that I care +anything about him now,” and her mother knew that she meant Bittridge, +“or that I ever shall. That’s gone forever. But it’s gone,” she added, +and her mother quaked inwardly to hear her reason, “because the wrong +and the shame was all for me--for us. That’s why I can forgive it, +and forget. If we had done anything, the least thing in the world, to +revenge ourselves, or to hurt him, then--Don’t you see, momma?” + +“I think I see, Ellen.” + +“Then I should have to keep thinking about it, and what we had made him +suffer, and whether we hadn’t given him some claim. I don’t wish ever +to think of him again. You and poppa were so patient and forbearing, all +through; and I thank goodness now for everything you put up with; only I +wish I could have borne everything myself.” + +“You had enough to bear,” Mrs. Kenton said, in tender evasion. + +“I’m glad that I had to bear so much, for bearing it is what makes me +free now.” She went up to her mother and kissed her, and gazed into her +face with joyful, tearful looks that made her heart sink. + + + + +XIV. + +Mrs. Kenton did not rest till she had made sure from Lottie and Boyne +that neither of them had dropped any hint to Ellen of what happened to +Bittridge after his return to Tuskingum. She did not explain to them why +she was so very anxious to know, but only charged them the more solemnly +not to let the secret, which they had all been keeping from Ellen, +escape them. + +They promised, but Lottie said, “She’s got to know it some time, and I +should think the sooner the better.” + +“I will be judge of that, Lottie,” said her mother, and Boyne seized his +chance of inculpating her with his friend, Mr. Pogis. He said she +was carrying on awfully with him already; and an Englishman could not +understand, and Boyne hinted that he would presume upon her American +freedom. + +“Well, if he does, I’ll get you to cowhide him, Boyne,” she retorted, +and left him fuming helplessly, while she went to give the young +Englishman an opportunity of resuming the flirtation which her mother +had interrupted. + +With her husband Mrs. Kenton found it practicable to be more explicit. +“I haven’t had such a load lifted off my heart since I don’t know when. +It shows me what I’ve thought all along: that Ellen hasn’t really cared +anything for that miserable thing since he first began going with Mrs. +Uphill a year ago. When he wrote that letter to her in New York she +wanted to be sure she didn’t, and when he offered himself and misbehaved +so to both of you, she was afraid that she and you were somehow to +blame. Now she’s worked it out that no one else was wronged, and she is +satisfied. It’s made her feel free, as she says. But, oh, dear me!” Mrs. +Kenton broke off, “I talk as if there was nothing to bind her; and yet +there is what poor Richard did! What would she say if she knew that? +I have been cautioning Lottie and Boyne, but I know it will come out +somehow. Do you think it’s wise to keep it from her? Hadn’t we better +tell her? Or shall we wait and see--” + +Kenton would not allow to her or to himself that his hopes ran with +hers; love is not business with a man as it is with a woman; he feels it +indecorous and indelicate to count upon it openly, where she thinks it +simply a chance of life, to be considered like another. All that Kenton +would say was, “I see no reason for telling her just yet. She will have +to know in due time. But let her enjoy her freedom now.” + +“Yes,” Mrs. Kenton doubtfully assented. + +The judge was thoughtfully silent. Then he said: “Few girls could have +worked out her problem as Ellen has. Think how differently Lottie would +have done it!” + +“Lottie has her good points, too,” said Mrs. Kenton. “And, of course, I +don’t blame Richard. There are all kinds of girls, and Lottie means no +more harm than Ellen does. She’s the kind that can’t help attracting; +but I always knew that Ellen was attractive, too, if she would only find +it out. And I knew that as soon as anything worth while took up her mind +she would never give that wretch another thought.” + +Kenton followed her devious ratiocinations to a conclusion which he +could not grasp. “What do you mean, Sarah?” + +“If I only,” she explained, in terms that did not explain, “felt as sure +of him as I do about him!” + +Her husband looked densely at her. “Bittridge?” + +“No. Mr. Breckon. He is very nice, Rufus. Yes, he is! He’s been showing +me the map of Holland, and we’ve had a long talk. He isn’t the way +we thought--or I did. He is not at all clerical, or worldly. And he +appreciates Ellen. I don’t suppose he cares so much for her being +cultivated; I suppose she doesn’t seem so to him. But he sees how wise +she is--how good. And he couldn’t do that without being good himself! +Rufus! If we could only hope such a thing. But, of course, there are +thousands after him!” + +“There are not thousands of Ellens after him,” said the judge, before he +could take time to protest. “And I don’t want him to suppose that she is +after him at all. If he will only interest her and help her to keep her +mind off herself, it’s all I will ask of him. I am not anxious to part +with her, now that she’s all ours again.” + +“Of course,” Mrs. Kenton soothingly assented. “And I don’t say that she +dreams of him in any such way. She can’t help admiring his mind. But +what I mean is that when you see how he appreciates her, you can’t help +wishing he could know just how wise, and just how good she is. It did +seem to me as if I would give almost anything to have him know what she +had been through with that--rapscallion!” + +“Sarah!” + +“Oh, you may Sarah me! But I can tell you what, Mr. Kenton: I believe +that you could tell him every word of it, and only make him appreciate +her the more. Till you know that about Ellen, you don’t know what a +character she is. I just ached to tell him!” + +“I don’t understand you, my dear,” said Kenton. “But if you mean to tell +him--” + +“Why, who could imagine doing such a thing? Don’t you see that it is +impossible? Such a thing would never have come into my head if it hadn’t +been for some morbid talk of Ellen’s.” + +“Of Ellen’s?” + +“Oh, about wanting to disgust him by telling him why she was such a +burden to us.” + +“She isn’t a burden!” + +“I am saying what she said. And it made me think that if such a person +could only know the high-minded way she had found to get out of her +trouble! I would like somebody who is capable of valuing her to value +her in all her preciousness. Wouldn’t you be glad if such a man as he is +could know how and why she feels free at last?” + +“I don’t think it’s necessary,” said Kenton, haughtily, “There’s only +one thing that could give him the right to know it, and we’ll wait for +that first. I thought you said that he was frivolous.” + +“Boyne said that, and Lottie. I took it for granted, till I talked with +him to-day. He is light-hearted and gay; he likes to laugh and joke; but +he can be very serious when he wants to.” + +“According to all precedent,” said the judge, glumly, “such a man ought +to be hanging round Lottie. Everybody was that amounted to anything in +Tuskingum.” + +“Oh, in Tuskingum! And who were the men there that amounted to anything? +A lot of young lawyers, and two students of medicine, and some railroad +clerks. There wasn’t one that would compare with Mr. Breckon for a +moment.” + +“All the more reason why he can’t really care for Ellen. Now see here, +Sarah! You know I don’t interfere with you and the children, but I’m +afraid you’re in a craze about this young fellow. He’s got these friends +of his who have just turned up, and we’ll wait and see what he does with +them. I guess he appreciates the young lady as much as he does Ellen.” + +Mrs. Kenton’s heart went down. “She doesn’t compare with Ellen!” she +piteously declared. + +“That’s what we think. He may think differently.” + +Mrs. Kenton was silenced, but all the more she was determined to make +sure that Mr. Breckon was not interested in Miss Rasmith in any measure +or manner detrimental to Ellen. As for Miss Rasmith herself, Mrs. Kenton +would have had greater reason to be anxious about her behavior with +Boyne than Mr. Breckon. From the moment that the minister had made his +two groups of friends acquainted, the young lady had fixed upon Boyne +as that member of the Kenton group who could best repay a more intimate +friendship. She was polite to them all, but to Boyne she was flattering, +and he was too little used to deference from ladies ten years his senior +not to be very sensible of her worth in offering it. To be unremittingly +treated as a grown-up person was an experience so dazzling that his +vision was blinded to any possibilities in the behavior that formed it; +and before the day ended Boyne had possessed Miss Rasmith of all that it +was important for any fellow-being to know of his character and history. +He opened his heart to eyes that had looked into others before his, +less for the sake of exploiting than of informing himself. In the rare +intelligence of Miss Rasmith he had found that serious patience with +his problems which no one else, not Ellen herself, had shown, and +after trying her sincerity the greater part of the day he put it to +the supreme test, one evening, with a book which he had been reading. +Boyne’s literature was largely entomological and zoological, but this +was a work of fiction treating of the fortunes of a young American +adventurer, who had turned his military education to account in the +service of a German princess. Her Highness’s dominions were not in any +map of Europe, and perhaps it was her condition of political incognito +that rendered her the more fittingly the prey of a passion for the +American head of her armies. Boyne’s belief was that this character +veiled a real identity, and he wished to submit to Miss Rasmith the +question whether in the exclusive circles of New York society any young +millionaire was known to have taken service abroad after leaving west +Point. He put it in the form of a scoffing incredulity which it was a +comfort to have her take as if almost hurt by his doubt. She said that +such a thing might very well be, and with rich American girls marrying +all sorts of titles abroad, it was not impossible for some brilliant +young fellow to make his way to the steps of a throne. Boyne declared +that she was laughing at him, and she protested that it was the last +thing she should think of doing; she was too much afraid of him. Then he +began to argue against the case supposed in the romance; he proved from +the book itself that the thing could not happen; such a princess would +not be allowed to marry the American, no matter how rich he was. She +owned that she had not heard of just such an instance, and he might +think her very romantic; and perhaps she was; but if the princess was an +absolute princess, such as she was shown in that story, she held that +no power on earth could keep her from marrying the young American. For +herself she did not see, though, how the princess could be in love +with that type of American. If she had been in the princess’s place she +should have fancied something quite different. She made Boyne agree with +her that Eastern Americans were all, more or less, Europeanized, and it +stood to reason, she held, that a European princess would want something +as un-European as possible if she was falling in love to please herself. +They had some contention upon the point that the princess would want +a Western American; and then Miss Rasmith, with a delicate audacity, +painted an heroic portrait of Boyne himself which he could not recognize +openly enough to disown; but he perceived resemblances in it which went +to his head when she demurely rose, with a soft “Good-night, Mr. Kenton. +I suppose I mustn’t call you Boyne?” + +“Oh yes, do!” he entreated. “I’m-I’m not grown up yet, you know.” + +“Then it will be safe,” she sighed. “But I should never have thought +of that. I had got so absorbed in our argument. You are so logical, Mr. +Kenton--Boyne, I mean--thank you. You must get it from your father. How +lovely your sister is!” + +“Ellen?” + +“Well, no. I meant the other one. But Miss Kenton is beautiful, too. You +must be so happy together, all of you.” She added, with a rueful smile, +“There’s only one of me! Good-night.” + +Boyne did not know whether he ought not in humanity, if not gallantry, +to say he would be a brother to her, but while he stood considering, she +put out a hand to him so covered with rings that he was afraid she had +hurt herself in pressing his so hard, and had left him before he could +decide. + +Lottie, walking the deck, had not thought of bidding Mr. Pogis +good-night. She had asked him half a dozen times how late it was, and +when he answered, had said as often that she knew better, and she was +going below in another minute. But she stayed, and the flow of her +conversation supplied him with occasion for the remarks of which he +seldom varied the formula. When she said something too audacious for +silent emotion, he called out, “Oh, I say!” If she advanced an opinion +too obviously acceptable, or asked a question upon some point where +it seemed to him there could not be two minds, he was ready with the +ironical note, “Well, rather!” At times she pressed her studies of his +character and her observations on his manner and appearance so far that +he was forced to protest, “You are so personal!” But these moments +were rare; for the most part, “Oh I say!” and “Well, rather!” perfectly +covered the ground. He did not generally mind her parody of his poverty +of phrase, but once, after she had repeated “Well rather!” and “Oh, +I say!” steadily at everything he said for the whole round of the +promenade they were making, he intimated that there were occasions when, +in his belief, a woman’s abuse of the freedom generously allowed her sex +passed the point of words. + +“And when it passes the point of words” she taunted him, “what do you +do?” + +“You will see,” he said, “if it ever does,” and Lottie felt justified by +her inference that he was threatening to kiss her, in answering: + +“And if I ever SEE, I will box your ears.” + +“Oh, I say!” he retorted. “I should like to have you try.” + +He had ideas of the rightful mastery of a man in all things, which +she promptly pronounced brutal, and when he declared that his father’s +conduct towards his wife and children was based upon these ideas, she +affirmed the superiority of her own father’s principles and behavior. +Mr. Pogis was too declared an admirer of Judge Kenton to question +his motives or method in anything, and he could only generalize, “The +Americans spoil their women.” + +“Well, their women are worth it,” said Lottie, and after allowing the +paradox time to penetrate his intelligence, he cried out, in a glad +transport: + +“Oh, I SAY!” + +At the moment Boyne’s intellectual seance with Miss Rasmith was +coming to an end. Lottie had tacitly invited Mr. Pogis to prolong the +comparison of English and American family life by stopping in front of +a couple of steamer-chairs, and confessing that she was tired to death. +They sat down, and he told her about his mother, whom, although his +father’s subordinate, he seemed to be rather fonder of. He had some +elder brothers, most of them in the colonies, and he had himself been +out to America looking at something his father had found for him in +Buffalo. + +“You ought to come to Tuskingum,” said Lottie. + +“Is that a large place?” Mr. Pogis asked. “As large as Buffalo?” + +“Well, no,” Lottie admitted. “But it’s a growing place. And we have the +best kind of times.” + +“What kind?” The young man easily consented to turn the commercial into +a social inquiry. + +“Oh, picnics, and river parties, and buggy-rides, and dances.” + +“I’m keen on dancing,” said Mr. Pogis. “I hope they’ll give us a dance +on board. Will you put me down for the first dance?” + +“I don’t care. Will you send me some flowers? The steward must have some +left in the refrigerator.” + +“Well, rather! I’ll send you a spray, if he’s got enough.” + +“A spray? What’s a spray?” + +“Oh, I say! My sister always wears one. It’s a long chain of flowers +reachin’ from your shoulder diagonally down to your waist.” + +“Does your sister always have her sprays sent to her?” + +“Well, rather! Don’t they send flowers to girls for dances in the +States?” + +“Well, rather! Didn’t I just ask you?” + +This was very true, and after a moment of baffle Mr. Pogis said, in +generalization, “If you go with a young lady in a party to the theatre +you send her a box of chocolates.” + +“Only when you go to theatre! I couldn’t get enough, then, unless you +asked me every night,” said Lottie, and while Mr. Pogis was trying to +choose between “Oh, I say!” and something specific, like, “I should like +to ask you every night,” she added, “And what would happen if you sent a +girl a spray for the theatre and chocolates for a dance? Wouldn’t it jar +her?” + +Now, indeed, there was nothing for him but to answer, “Oh, I say!” + +“Well, say, then! Here comes Boyne, and I must go. Well, Boyne,” she +called, from the dark nook where she sat, to her brother as he stumbled +near, with his eyes to the stars, “has the old lady retired?” + +He gave himself away finely. “What old lady!” + +“Well, maybe at your age you don’t consider her very old. But I don’t +think a boy ought to sit up mooning at his grandmother all night. I know +Miss Rasmith’s no relation, if that’s what you’re going to say!” + +“Oh, I say!” Mr. Pogis chuckled. “You are so personal.” + +“Well, rather!” said Lottie, punishing his presumption. “But I don’t +think it’s nice for a kid, even if she isn’t.” + +“Kid!” Boyne ground, through his clenched teeth. + +By this time Lottie was up out of her chair and beyond repartee in her +flight down the gangway stairs. She left the two youngsters confronted. + +“What do you say to a lemon-squash?” asked Mr. Pogis, respecting his +friend’s wounded dignity, and ignoring Lottie and her offence. + +“I don’t care if I do,” said Boyne in gloomy acquiescence. + + + + +XV. + +Few witnesses of the fact that Julia Rasmith and her mother had found +themselves on the same steamer with the Rev. Hugh Breckon would have +been of such a simple mind as to think they were there by accident, if +they had also been witnesses of their earlier history. The ladies could +have urged that in returning from California only a few days before +the Amstel sailed, and getting a state-room which had been unexpectedly +given up, they had some claim to a charitable interpretation of their +behavior, but this plea could not have availed them with any connoisseur +of women. Besides, it had been a matter of notoriety among such of Mr. +Breckon’s variegated congregation as knew one another that Mrs. Rasmith +had set her heart on him, it Julia had not set her cap for him. In that +pied flock, where every shade and dapple of doubt, from heterodox Jew to +agnostic Christian, foregathered, as it has been said, in the misgiving +of a blessed immortality, the devotion of Mrs. Rasmith to the minister +had been almost a scandal. Nothing had saved the appearance from this +character but Mr. Breckon’s open acceptance of her flatteries and +hospitalities; this was so frank, and the behavior of Julia herself so +judicious under the circumstances, that envy and virtue were, if not +equally silenced, equally baffled. So far from pretending not to see her +mother’s manoeuvres, Julia invited public recognition of them; in the +way of joking, which she kept within the limits of filial fondness, she +made fun of her mother’s infatuation to Breckon himself, and warned +him against the moment when her wiles might be too much for him. Before +other people she did not hesitate to save him from her mother, so that +even those who believed her in the conspiracy owned that no girl could +have managed with more cleverness in a situation where not every one +would have refused to be placed. In this situation Julia Rasmith had the +service of a very clear head, and as was believed by some, a cool heart; +if she and her mother had joint designs upon the minister, hers was the +ambition, and her mother’s the affection that prompted them. She was a +long, undulant girl, of a mixed blondness that left you in doubt, after +you had left her, whether her hair or her complexion were not of one +tint; but her features were good, and there could be no question of her +captivating laugh, and her charming mouth, which she was always pulling +down with demure irony. She was like her mother in her looks, but her +indolent, droning temperament must have been from her father, whose +memory was lost in that antiquity which swallows up the record of so +many widows’ husbands, and who could not have left her what was left of +her mother’s money, for none of it had ever been his. It was still her +mother’s, and it was supposed to be the daughter’s chief attraction. +There must, therefore, have been a good deal of it, for those who were +harshest with the minister did not believe that a little money would +attract him. Not that they really thought him mercenary; some of his +people considered him gay to the verge of triviality, but there were +none that accused him of insincerity. They would have liked a little +more seriousness in him, especially when they had not much of their +own, and would have had him make up in severity of behavior for what he +lacked, and what they wished him to lack, in austerity of doctrine. + +The Amstel had lost so much time in the rough weather of her first days +out that she could not make it up with her old-fashioned single screw. +She was at best a ten-day boat, counting from Sandy Hook to Boulogne, +and she had not been four days out when she promised to break her record +for slowness. Three days later Miss Rasmith said to Breckon, as he took +the chair which her mother agilely abandoned to him beside her: “The +head steward says it will be a twelve-day trip, end our bedroom steward +thinks more. What is the consensus of opinion in the smoking-room? Where +are you going, mother? Are you planning to leave Mr. Breckon and me +alone again? It isn’t necessary. We couldn’t get away from each other +if we tried, and all we ask--Well, I suppose age must be indulged in its +little fancies,” she called after Mrs. Rasmith. + +Breckon took up the question she had asked him. “The odds are so heavily +in favor of a fifteen-days’ run that there are no takers.” + +“Now you are joking again,” she said. “I thought a sea-voyage might make +you serious.” + +“It has been tried before. Besides, it’s you that I want to be serious.” + +“What about? Besides, I doubt it.” + +“About Boyne.” + +“Oh! I thought you were going to say some one else.” + +“No, I think that is very well settled.” + +“You’ll never persuade my mother,” said Miss Rasmith, with a low, +comfortable laugh. + +“But if you are satisfied--” + +“She will have to resign herself? Well, perhaps. But why do you wish me +to be serious about Boyne?” + +“I have no doubt he amuses you. But that doesn’t seem a very good reason +why you should amuse yourself with him.” + +“No? Why not?” + +“Well, because the poor boy is in earnest; and you’re not +exactly--contemporaries.” + +“Why, how old is Boyne?” she asked, with affected surprise. + +“About fifteen, I think,” said Breckon, gravely. + +“And I’m but a very few months past thirty. I don’t see the great +disparity. But he is merely a brother to me--an elder brother--and he +gives me the best kind of advice.” + +“I dare say you need it, but all the same, I am afraid you are putting +ideas into his head.” + +“Well, if he began it? If he put them in mine first?” + +She was evidently willing that he should go further, and create the +common ground between them that grows up when one gives a reproof and +the other accepts it; but Breckon, whether he thought that he had now +done his duty, and need say no more, or because he was vexed with her, +left the subject. + +“Mrs. Rasmith says you are going to Switzerland for the rest of the +summer.” + +“Yes, to Montreux. Are you going to spend it in Paris?” + +“I’m going to Paris to see. I have had some thoughts of Etretat; I have +cousins there.” + +“I wish that I could go to the sea-side. But this happens to be one of +the summers when nothing but mountains can save my mother’s life. Shall +you get down to Rome before you go back?” + +“I don’t know. If I sail from Naples I shall probably pass through +Rome.” + +“You had better stop off. We shall be there in November, and they +say Rome is worth seeing,” she laughed demurely. “That is what Boyne +understands. He’s promised to use his influence with his family to let +him run down to see us there, if he can’t get them all to come. You +might offer to personally conduct them.” + +“Yes.” said Breckon, with the effect of cloture. “Have you made many +acquaintances an board?” + +“What! Two lone women? You haven’t introduced us to any but the Kentons. +But I dare say they are the best. The judge is a dear, and Mrs. Kenton +is everything that is motherly and matronly. Boyne says she is very well +informed, and knows all about the reigning families. If he decides +to marry into them, she can be of great use in saving him from a +mesalliance. I can’t say very much for Miss Lottie. Miss Lottie seems to +me distinctly of the minx type. But that poor, pale girl is adorable. I +wish she liked me!” + +“What makes you think she doesn’t like you?” Breckon asked. + +“What? Women don’t require anything to convince them that other women +can’t bear them. They simply know it. I wonder what has happened to +her?” + +“Why do you think anything has happened to her?” + +“Why? Well, girls don’t have that air of melancholy absence for nothing. +She is brooding upon something, you may be sure. But you have had so +many more opportunities than I! Do you mean that you haven’t suspected a +tragical past far her?” + +“I don’t know,” said Breckon, a little restively, “that I have allowed +myself to speculate about her past.” + +“That is, you oughtn’t to have allowed yourself to do so. Well, there +I agree with you. But a woman may do so without impertinence, and I am +sure that Miss Kenton has a story. I have watched her, and her face has +told me everything but the story.” + +Breckon would not say that some such revelation had been made to him, +and in the absence of an answer from him Miss Rasmith asked, “Is she +cultivated, too?” + +“Too?” + +“Like her mother.” + +“Oh! I should say she had read a good dial. And she’s bookish, yes, in a +simple-hearted kind of way.” + +“She asks you if you have read ‘the book of the year,’ and whether you +don’t think the heroine is a beautiful character?” + +“Not quite so bad as that. But if you care to be serious about her!” + +“Oh, I do!” + +“I doubt it. Then, I should say that she seems to have grown up in a +place where the interests are so material that a girl who was disposed +to be thoughtful would be thrown back upon reading for her society more +than in more intellectual centres--if there are such things. She has +been so much with books that she does not feel odd in speaking of them +as if they were the usual topics of conversation. It gives her a certain +quaintness.” + +“And that is what constitutes her charm?” + +“I didn’t know that we were speaking of her charm.” + +“No, that is true. But I was thinking of it. She fascinates me. Are they +going to get off at Boulogne?” + +“No, they are going on to Rotterdam.” + +“To be sure! Boyne told me. And are you going on with them?” + +“I thought we talked of my going to Paris.” Breckon looked round at her, +and she made a gesture of deprecation. + +“Why, of course! How could I forget? But I’m so much interested in Miss +Kenton that I can’t think of anything else.” + +“Not even of Miss Rasmith?” + +“Not even of Miss Rasmith. I know that she has a history, and that it’s +a sad one.” She paused in ironical hesitation. “You’ve been so good as +to caution me about her brother--and I never can be grateful enough--and +that makes me almost free to suggest--” + +She stopped again, and he asked, hardily, “What?” + +“Oh, nothing. It isn’t for me to remind my pastor, my ghostly +adviser”--she pulled down her mouth and glanced at him demurely--“and +I will only offer the generalization that a girl is never so much in +danger of having her heart broken as when she’s had it broken--Oh, are +you leaving me?” she cried, as Breckon rose from his chair. + +“Well, then, send Boyne to me.” She broke into a laugh as he faltered. +“Are you going to sit down again? That is right. And I won’t talk any +more about Miss Kenton.” + +“I don’t mind talking of her,” said Breckon. “Perhaps it will even be +well to do so if you are in earnest. Though it strikes me that you have +rather renounced the right to criticise me.” + +“Now, is that logical? It seems to me that in putting myself in the +attitude of a final friend at the start, and refusing to be anything +more, I leave established my right to criticise you on the firmest +basis. I can’t possibly be suspected of interested motives. Besides, +you’ve just been criticizing me, if you want a woman’s reason!” + +“Well, go on.” + +“Why, I had finished. That’s the amusing part. I should have supposed +that I could go on forever about Miss Kenton, but I have nothing to go +upon. She has kept her secret very well, and so have the rest of them. +You think I might have got it out of Boyne? Perhaps I might, but you +know I have my little scruples. I don’t think it would be quite fair, or +quite nice.” + +“You are scrupulous. And I give you credit for having been more delicate +than I’ve been.” + +“You don’t mean you’ve been trying to find it out!” + +“Ah, now I’m not sure about the superior delicacy!” + +“Oh, how good!” said Miss Rasmith. “What a pity you should be wasted in +a calling that limits you so much.” + +“You call it limiting? I didn’t know but I had gone too far.” + +“Not at all! You know there’s nothing I like so much as those little +digs.” + +“I had forgotten. Then you won’t mind my saying that this surveillance +seems to me rather more than I have any right to from you.” + +“How exquisitely you put it! Who else could have told me to mind my +own business so delightfully? Well, it isn’t my business. I acknowledge +that, and I spoke only because I knew you would be sorry if you had gone +too far. I remembered our promise to be friends.” + +She threw a touch of real feeling into her tone, and he responded, “Yes, +and I thank you for it, though it isn’t easy.” + +She put out her hand to him, and, as he questioningly took it, she +pressed his with animation. “Of course it isn’t! Or it wouldn’t be for +any other man. But don’t you suppose I appreciate that supreme courage +of yours? There is nobody else-nobody!--who could stand up to an +impertinence and turn it to praise by such humility.” + +“Don’t go too far, or I shall be turning your praise to impertinence +by my humility. You’re quite right, though, about the main matter. I +needn’t suppose anything so preposterous as you suggest, to feel that +people are best left alone to outlive their troubles, unless they are of +the most obvious kind.” + +“Now, if I thought I had done anything to stop you from offering that +sort of helpfulness which makes you a blessing to everybody, I should +never forgive myself.” + +“Nothing so dire as that, I believe. But if you’ve made me question the +propriety of applying the blessing in all cases, you have done a very +good thing.” + +Miss Rasmith was silent and apparently serious. After a moment she said, +“And I, for my part, promise to let poor little Boyne alone.” + +Breckon laughed. “Don’t burlesque it! Besides, I haven’t promised +anything.” + +“That is very true,” said Miss Rasmith, and she laughed, too. + + + + +XVI. + +In one of those dramatic reveries which we all hold with ourselves when +fortune has pressingly placed us, Ellen Kenton had imagined it possible +for her to tell her story to the man who had so gently and truly tried +to be her friend. It was mostly in the way of explaining to him how she +was unworthy of his friendship that the story was told, and she fancied +telling it without being scandalized at violating the conventions that +should have kept her from even dreaming of such a thing. It was all +exalted to a plane where there was no question of fit or unfit in doing +it, but only the occasion; and he would never hear of the unworthiness +which she wished to ascribe to herself. Sometimes he mournfully left +her when she persisted, left her forever, and sometimes he refused, +and retained with her in a sublime kindness, a noble amity, lofty and +serene, which did not seek to become anything else. In this case she +would break from her reveries with self-accusing cries, under her +breath, of “Silly, silly! Oh, how disgusting!” and if at that moment +Breckon were really coming up to sit by her, she would blush to her +hair, and wish to run away, and failing the force for this, would sit +cold and blank to his civilities, and have to be skilfully and gradually +talked back to self-respect and self-tolerance. + +The recurrence of these reveries and their consequence in her made it +difficult for him to put in effect the promise he had given himself in +Miss Rasmith’s presence. If Ellen had been eager to welcome his coming, +it would have been very simple to keep away from her, but as she +appeared anxious to escape him, and had to be entreated, as it were, +to suffer his society, something better than his curiosity was piqued, +though that was piqued, too. He believed that he saw her lapsing again +into that morbid state from which he had seemed once able to save her, +and he could not help trying again. He was the more bound to do so by +the ironical observance of Miss Rasmith, who had to be defied first, and +then propitiated; certainly, when she saw him apparently breaking faith +with her, she had a right to some sort of explanation, but certainly +also she had no right to a blind and unreasoning submission from him. +His embarrassment was heightened by her interest in Miss Kenton, +whom, with an admirable show of now finding her safe from Breckon’s +attractions, she was always wishing to study from his observation. What +was she really like? The girl had a perfect fascination for her; she +envied him his opportunities of knowing her, and his privileges of +making that melancholy face light up with that heart-breaking smile, and +of banishing that delicious shyness with which she always seemed to meet +him. Miss Rasmith had noticed it; how could she help noticing it? + +Breckon wished to himself that she had been able to help noticing it, or +were more capable of minding her own business than she showed herself, +and his heart closed about Ellen with a tenderness that was dangerously +indignant. At the same time he felt himself withheld by Miss Rasmith’s +witness from being all to the girl that he wished to be, and that he now +seemed to have been in those first days of storm, while Miss Rasmith and +her mother were still keeping their cabin. He foresaw that it would end +in Miss Rasmith’s sympathetic nature not being able to withhold itself +from Ellen’s need of cheerful companionship, and he was surprised, as +little as he was pleased, one morning, when he came to take the chair +beside her to find Miss Rasmith in it, talking and laughing to the girl, +who perversely showed herself amused. Miss Rasmith made as if to offer +him the seat, but he had to go away disappointed, after standing long +enough before them to be aware that they were suspending some topic +while he stayed. + +He naturally supposed the topic to be himself, but it was not so, or at +least not directly so. It was only himself as related to the scolding he +had given Miss Rasmith for trifling with the innocence of Boyne, which +she wished Miss Kenton to understand as the effect of a real affection +for her brother. She loved all boys, and Boyne was simply the most +delightful creature in the world. She went on to explain how delightful +he was, and showed a such an appreciation of the infantile sweetness +mingled with the mature severity of Boyne’s character that Ellen could +not help being pleased and won. She told some little stories of Boyne +that threw a light also their home life in Tuskingum, and Miss Rasmith +declared herself perfectly fascinated, and wished that she could go and +live in Tuskingum. She protested that she should not find it dull; Boyne +alone would be entertainment enough; and she figured a circumstance so +idyllic from the hints she had gathered, that Ellen’s brow darkened in +silent denial, and Miss Rasmith felt herself, as the children say in +the game, very hot in her proximity to the girl’s secret. She would have +liked to know it, but whether she felt that she could know it when +she liked enough, or whether she should not be so safe with Breckon in +knowing it, she veered suddenly away, and said that she was so glad to +have Boyne’s family know the peculiar nature of her devotion, which +did not necessarily mean running away with him, though it might come +to that. She supposed she was a little morbid about it from what Mr. +Breckon had been saying; he had a conscience that would break the peace +of a whole community, though he was the greatest possible favorite, not +only with his own congregation, which simply worshipped him, but with +the best society, where he was in constant request. + +It was not her fault if she did not overdo these history, but perhaps +it was all true about the number of girls who were ready and willing to +marry him. It might even be true, though she had no direct authority for +saying it, that he had made up his mind never to marry, and that was the +reason why he felt himself so safe in being the nicest sort of friend. +He was safe, Miss Rasmith philosophized, but whether other people were +so safe was a different question. There were girls who were said to +be dying for him; but of course those things were always said about a +handsome young minister. She had frankly taken him on his own ground, +from the beginning, and she believed that this was what he liked. At any +rate, they had agreed that they were never to be anything but the best +of friends, and they always had been. + +Mrs. Kenton came and shyly took the chair on Miss Rasmith’s other side, +and Miss Rasmith said they had been talking about Mr. Breckon, and she +repeated what she had been saying to Ellen. Mrs. Kenton assented more +openly than Ellen could to her praises, but when she went away, and her +daughter sat passive, without comment or apparent interest, the mother +drew a long, involuntary sigh. + +“Do you like her, Ellen?” + +“She tries to be pleasant, I think.” + +“Do you think she really knows much about Mr. Breckon?” + +“Oh yes. Why not? She belongs to his church.” + +“He doesn’t seem to me like a person who would have a parcel of girls +tagging after him.” + +“That is what they do in the East, Boyne says.” + +“I wish she would let Boyne alone. She is making a fool of the child. +He’s round with her every moment. I think she ought to be ashamed, such +an old thing!” + +Ellen chose to protest, or thought it fair to do so. “I don’t believe +she is doing him any harm. She just lets him talk out, and everybody +else checks him up so. It was nice of her to come and talk with me, when +we had all been keeping away from her. Perhaps he sent her, though. She +says they have always been such good friends because she wouldn’t be +anything else from the beginning.” + +“I don’t see why she need have told you that.” + +“Oh, it was just to show he was run after. I wonder if he thinks we are +running after him? Momma, I am tired of him! I wish he wouldn’t speak to +me any more.” + +“Why! do you really dislike him, Ellen?” + +“No, not dislike him. But it tires me to have him trying to amuse me. +Don’t you understand?” + +Mrs. Kenton said yes, she understood, but she was clear only of the fact +that Ellen seemed flushed and weak at that moment. She believed that +it was Miss Rasmith and not Mr. Breckon who was to blame, but she said: +“Well, you needn’t worry about it long. It will only be a day or two now +till we get to Boulogne, and then he will leave us. Hadn’t you better go +down now, and rest awhile in your berth? I will bring your things.” + +Ellen rose, pulling her wraps from her skirts to give them to her +mother. A voice from behind said between their meeting shoulders: “Oh, +are you going down? I was just coming to beg Miss Kenton to take a +little walk with me,” and they looked round together and met Breckon’s +smiling face. + +“I’m afraid,” Mrs. Kenton began, and then, like a well-trained American +mother, she stopped and left the affair to her daughter. + +“Do you think you can get down with them, momma?” the girl asked, and +somehow her mother’s heart was lightened by her evasion, not to call it +uncandor. It was at least not morbid, it was at least like other girls, +and Mrs. Kenton imparted what comfort there was in it to the judge, when +he asked where she had left Ellen. + +“Not that it’s any use,” she sighed, when she had seen him share it with +a certain shamefacedness. “That woman has got her grip on him, and she +doesn’t mean to let go.” + +Kenton understood Miss Rasmith by that woman; but he would not allow +himself to be so easily cast down. This was one of the things that +provoked Mrs. Kenton with him; when he had once taken hope he would not +abandon it without reason. “I don’t see any evidence of her having her +grip on him. I’ve noticed him, and he doesn’t seem attentive to her. I +should say he tried to avoid her. He certainly doesn’t avoid Ellen.” + +“What are you thinking of, Rufus?” + +“What are you? You know we’d both be glad if he fancied her.” + +“Well, suppose we would? I don’t deny it. He is one of the most +agreeable gentlemen I ever saw; one of the kindest and nicest.” + +“He’s more than that,” said the judge. “I’ve been sounding him on +various points, and I don’t see where he’s wrong. Of course, I don’t +know much about his religious persuasion, if it is one, but I think I’m +a pretty fair judge of character, and that young man has character. +He isn’t a light person, though he likes joking and laughing, and he +appreciates Ellen.” + +“Yes, so do we. And there’s about as much prospect of his marrying her. +Rufus, it’s pretty hard! She’s just in the mood to be taken with him, +but she won’t let herself, because she knows it’s of no use. That Miss +Rasmith has been telling her how much he is run after, and I could +see that that settled it for Ellen as plainly as if she said so. More +plainly, for there’s enough of the girl in her to make her say one thing +when she means another. She was just saying she was sick of him, and +never wanted to speak to him again, when he came up and asked her to +walk, and she went with him instantly. I knew what she meant. She wasn’t +going to let him suppose that anything Miss Rasmith had said was going +to change her.” + +“Well, then,” said the judge, “I don’t see what you’re scared at.” + +“I’m not SCARED. But, oh, Rufus! It can’t come to anything! There isn’t +time!” An hysterical hope trembled in her asseveration of despair that +made him smile. + +“I guess if time’s all that’s wanted--” + +“He is going to get off at Boulogne.” + +“Well, we can get off there, too.” + +“Rufus, if you dare to think of such a thing!” + +“I don’t. But Europe isn’t so big but what he can find us again if he +wants to.” + +“Ah, if he wants to!” + +Ellen seemed to have let her mother take her languor below along with +the shawls she had given her. Buttoned into a close jacket, and skirted +short for the sea, she pushed against the breeze at Breckon’s elbow with +a vigor that made him look his surprise at her. Girl-like, she took it +that something was wrong with her dress, and ran herself over with an +uneasy eye. + +Then he explained: “I was just thinking how much you were like Miss +Lottie-if you’ll excuse my being so personal. And it never struck me +before.” + +“I didn’t suppose we looked alike,” said Ellen. + +“No, certainly. I shouldn’t have taken you for sisters. And yet, just +now, I felt that you were like her. You seem so much stronger this +morning--perhaps it’s that the voyage is doing you good. Shall you be +sorry to have it end?” + +“Shall you? That’s the way Lottie would answer.” + +Breckon laughed. “Yes, it is. I shall be very sorry. I should be willing +to have it rough again, it that would make it longer. I liked it’s being +rough. We had it to ourselves.” He had not thought how that sounded, but +if it sounded particular, she did not notice it. + +She merely said, “I was surprised not to be seasick, too.” + +“And should you be willing to have it rough again?” + +“You wouldn’t see anything more of your friends, then.” + +“Ah, yes; Miss Rasmith. She is a great talker, Did you find her +interesting?” + +“She was very interesting.” + +“Yes? What did she talk about?” + +Ellen realized the fact too late to withhold “Why, about you.” + +“And was that what made her interesting?” + +“Now, what would Lottie say to such a thing as that?” asked Ellen, +gayly. + +“Something terribly cutting, I’m afraid. But don’t you! From you I don’t +want to believe I deserve it, no matter what Miss Rasmith said me.” + +“Oh, she didn’t say anything very bad. Unless you mind being a universal +favorite.” + +“Well, it makes a man out rather silly.” + +“But you can’t help that.” + +“Now you remind me of Miss Lottie again!” + +“But I didn’t mean that,” said Ellen, blushing and laughing. “I hope you +wouldn’t think I could be so pert.” + +“I wouldn’t think anything that wasn’t to your praise,” said Breckon, +and a pause ensued, after which the words he added seemed tame and flat. +“I suspect Miss Rasmith has been idealizing the situation. At any rate, +I shouldn’t advise you to trust her report implicitly. I’m at the head +of a society, you know, ethical or sociological, or altruistic, whatever +you choose to call it, which hasn’t any very definite object of worship, +and yet meets every Sunday for a sort of worship; and I have to be in +the pulpit. So you see?” + +Ellen said, “I think I understand,” with a temptation to smile at the +ruefulness of his appeal. + +Breckon laughed for her. “That’s the mischief and the absurdity of it. +But it isn’t so bad as it seems. They’re really most of them hard-headed +people; and those that are not couldn’t make a fool of a man that nature +hadn’t begun with. Still, I’m not very well satisfied with my work among +them--that is, I’m not satisfied with myself.” He was talking soberly +enough, and he did not find that she was listening too seriously. “I’m +going away to see whether I shall come back.” He looked at her to make +sure that she had taken his meaning, and seemed satisfied that she had. +“I’m not sure that I’m fit for any sort of ministry, and I may find the +winter in England trying to find out. I was at school in England, you +know.” + +Ellen confessed that she had not known that. + +“Yes; I suppose that’s what made me seem ‘so Englishy’ the first day to +Miss Lottie, as she called it. But I’m straight enough American as far +as parentage goes. Do you think you will be in England-later?” + +“I don’t know. If poppa gets too homesick we will go back in the fall.” + +“Miss Kenton,” said the young man, abruptly, “will you let me tell you +how much I admire and revere your father?” + +Tears came into her eyes and her throat swelled. “But you don’t know,” + she begun; and then she stopped. + +“I have been wanting to submit something to his judgment; but I’ve been +afraid. I might seem to be fishing for his favor.” + +“Poppa wouldn’t think anything that was unjust,” said Ellen, gravely. + +“Ah,” Breckon laughed, “I suspect that I should rather have him unjust. +I wish you’d tell me what he would think.” + +“But I don’t know what it is,” she protested, with a reflected smile. + +“I was in hopes Miss Rasmith might have told you. Well, it is simply +this, and you will see that I’m not quite the universal favorite she’s +been making you fancy me. There is a rift in my lute, a schism in my +little society, which is so little that I could not have supposed +there was enough of it to break in two. There are some who think their +lecturer--for that’s what I amount to--ought to be an older, if not +a graver man. They are in the minority, but they’re in the right, I’m +afraid; and that’s why I happen to be here telling you all this. It’s +a question of whether I ought to go back to New York or stay in London, +where there’s been a faint call for me.” He saw the girl listening +devoutly, with that flattered look which a serious girl cannot keep out +of her face when a man confides a serious matter to her. “I might +safely promise to be older, but could I keep my word if I promised to +be graver? That’s the point. If I were a Calvinist I might hold fast by +faith, and fight it out with that; or if I were a Catholic I could +cast myself upon the strength of the Church, and triumph in spite of +temperament. Then it wouldn’t matter whether I was grave or gay; it +might be even better if I were gay. But,” he went on, in terms which, +doubtless, were not then for the first time formulated in his mind, +“being merely the leader of a sort of forlorn hope in the Divine +Goodness, perhaps I have no right to be so cheerful.” + +The note of a sad irony in his words appealed to such indignation for +him in Ellen as she never felt for herself. But she only said, “I don’t +believe Poppa could take that in the wrong way if you told him.” + +Breckon stared. “Yes your father! What would he say?” + +“I can’t tell you. But I’m sure he would know what you meant.” + +“And you,” he pursued, “what should YOU say?” + +“I? I never thought about such a thing. You mustn’t ask me, if you’re +serious; and if you’re not--” + +“But I am; I am deeply serious. I would like, to know how the case +strikes you. I shall be so grateful if you will tell me.” + +“I’m sorry I can’t, Mr. Breckon. Why don’t you ask poppa?” + +“No, I see now I sha’n’t be able. I feel too much, after telling you, +as if I had been posing. The reality has gone out of it all. And I’m +ashamed.” + +“You mustn’t be,” she said, quietly; and she added, “I suppose it would +be like a kind of defeat if you didn’t go back?” + +“I shouldn’t care for the appearance of defeat,” he said, courageously. +“The great question is, whether somebody else wouldn’t be of more use in +my place.” + +“Nobody could be,” said she, in a sort of impassioned absence, and then +coming to herself, “I mean, they wouldn’t think so, I don’t believe.” + +“Then you advise--” + +“No, no! I can’t; I don’t. I’m not fit to have an opinion about such a +thing; it would be crazy. But poppa--” + +They were at the door of the gangway, and she slipped within and left +him. His nerves tingled, and there was a glow in his breast. It was +sweet to have surprised that praise from her, though he could not have +said why he should value the praise or a girl of her open ignorance and +inexperience in everything that would have qualified her to judge him. +But he found himself valuing it supremely, and wonderingly wishing to be +worthy of it. + + + + +XVII. + +Ellen discovered her father with a book in a distant corner of the +dining-saloon, which he preferred to the deck or the library for his +reading, in such intervals as the stewards, laying and cleaning the +tables, left him unmolested in it. She advanced precipitately upon him, +and stood before him in an excitement which, though he lifted his dazed +eyes to it from his page, he was not entirely aware of till afterwards. +Then he realized that her cheeks were full of color, and her eyes of +light, and that she panted as if she had been running when she spoke. + +“Poppa,” she said, “there is something that Mr. Breckon wants to speak +to you--to ask you about. He has asked me, but I want you to see him, +for I think he had better tell you himself.” + +While he still stared at her she was as suddenly gone as she had come, +and he remained with his book, which the meaning had as suddenly left. +There was no meaning in her words, except as he put it into them, and +after he had got it in he struggled with it in a sort of perfunctory +incredulity. It was not impossible; it chiefly seemed so because +it seemed too good to be true; and the more he pondered it the more +possible, if not probable, it became. He could not be safe with it till +he had submitted it to his wife; and he went to her while he was sure of +repeating Ellen’s words without varying from them a syllable. + +To his astonishment, Mrs. Kenton was instantly convinced. “Why, of +course,” she said, “it can’t possibly mean anything else. Why should it +be so very surprising? The time hasn’t been very long, but they’ve been +together almost every moment; and he was taken with her from the very +beginning--I could see that. Put on your other coat,” she said, as she +dusted the collar of the coat the judge was wearing. “He’ll be looking +you up, at once. I can’t say that it’s unexpected,” and she claimed a +prescience in the matter which all her words had hitherto denied. + +Kenton did not notice her inconsistency. “If it were not so exactly +what I wished,” he said, “I don’t know that I should be surprised at +it myself. Sarah, if I had been trying to imagine any one for Ellen, I +couldn’t have dreamed of a person better suited to her than this young +man. He’s everything that I could wish him to be. I’ve seen the pleasure +and comfort she took in his way from the first moment. He seemed to make +her forget--Do you suppose she has forgotten that miserable wretch Do +you think--” + +“If she hadn’t, could she be letting him come to speak to you? I don’t +believe she ever really cared for Bittridge--or not after he began +flirting with Mrs. Uphill.” She had no shrinking from the names which +Kenton avoided with disgust. “The only question for you is to consider +what you shall say to Mr. Breckon.” + +“Say to him? Why, of course, if Ellen has made up her mind, there’s only +one thing I can say.” + +“Indeed there is! He ought to know all about that disgusting Bittridge +business, and you have got to tell him.” + +“Sarah, I couldn’t. It is too humiliating. How would it do to refer him +to--You could manage that part so much better. I don’t see how I could +keep it from seeming an indelicate betrayal of the poor child--” + +“Perhaps she’s told him herself,” Mrs. Kenton provisionally suggested. + +The judge eagerly caught at the notion. “Do you think so? It would be +like her! Ellen would wish him to know everything.” + +He stopped, and his wife could see that he was trembling with +excitement. “We must find out. I will speak to Ellen--” + +“And--you don’t think I’d better have the talk with him first?” + +“Certainly not!” + +“Why, Rufus! You were not going to look him up?” + +“No,” he hesitated; but she could see that some such thing had been on +his mind. + +“Surely,” she said, “you must be crazy!” But she had not the heart to +blight his joy with sarcasm, and perhaps no sarcasm would have blighted +it. + +“I merely wondered what I had better say in case he spoke to me before +you saw Ellen--that’s all. Sarah! I couldn’t have believed that anything +could please me so much. But it does seem as if it were the assurance +of Ellen’s happiness; and she has deserved it, poor child! If ever +there was a dutiful and loving daughter--at least before that wretched +affair--she was one.” + +“She has been a good girl,” Mrs. Kenton stoically admitted. + +“And they are very well matched. Ellen is a cultivated woman. He never +could have cause to blush for her, either her mind or her manners, +in any circle of society; she would do him credit under any and all +circumstances. If it were Lottie--” + +“Lottie is all right,” said her mother, in resentment of his preference; +but she could not help smiling at it. “Don’t you be foolish about Ellen. +I approve of Mr. Breckon as much as you do. But it’s her prettiness and +sweetness that’s taken his fancy, and not her wisdom, if she’s got him.” + +“If she’s got him?” + +“Well, you know what I mean. I’m not saying she hasn’t. Dear knows, I +don’t want to! I feel just as you do about it. I think it’s the greatest +piece of good fortune, coming on top of all our trouble with her. I +couldn’t have imagined such a thing.” + +He was instantly appeased. “Are you going to speak with Ellen” he +radiantly inquired. + +“I will see. There’s no especial hurry, is there?” + +“Only, if he should happen to meet me--” + +“You can keep out of his way, I reckon. Or You can put him off, +somehow.” + +“Yes,” Kenton returned, doubtfully. “Don’t,” he added, “be too blunt +with Ellen. You know she didn’t say anything explicit to me.” + +“I think I will know how to manage, Mr. Kenton.” + +“Yes, of course, Sarah. I’m not saying that.” + +Breckon did not apparently try to find the judge before lunch, and +at table he did not seem especially devoted to Ellen in her father’s +jealous eyes. He joked Lottie, and exchanged those passages or repartee +with her in which she did not mind using a bludgeon when she had not +a rapier at hand; it is doubtful if she was very sensible of the +difference. Ellen sat by in passive content, smiling now and then, and +Boyne carried on a dignified conversation with Mr. Pogis, whom he +had asked to lunch at his table, and who listened with one ear to the +vigorous retorts of Lottie in her combat with Breckon. + +The judge witnessed it all with a grave displeasure, more and more +painfully apparent to his wife. She could see the impatience, the +gathering misgiving, in his face, and she perceived that she must not +let this come to conscious dissatisfaction with Breckon; she knew her +husband capable of indignation with trifling which would complicate the +situation, if it came to that. She decided to speak with Ellen as soon +as possible, and she meant to follow her to her state-room when they +left the table. But fate assorted the pieces in the game differently. +Boyne walked over to the place where Miss Rasmith was sitting with +her mother; Lottie and Mr. Pogis went off to practise duets together, +terrible, four-handed torments under which the piano presently clamored; +and Ellen stood for a moment talked to by Mr. Breckon, who challenged +her then for a walk on deck, and with whom she went away smiling. + +Mrs. Kenton appealed with the reflection of the girl’s happiness in her +face to the frowning censure in her husband’s; but Kenton spoke first. +“What does he mean?” he demanded, darkly. “If he is making a fool of her +he’ll find that that game can’t be played twice, with impunity. Sarah, I +believe I should choke him.” + +“Mr. Kenton!” she gasped, and she trembled in fear of him, even while +she kept herself with difficulty from shaking him for his folly. “Don’t +say such a thing! Can’t you see that they want to talk it over? If he +hasn’t spoken to you it’s because he wants to know how you took what +she said.” Seeing the effect of these arguments, she pursued: “Will you +never have any sense? I will speak to Ellen the very minute I get her +alone, and you have just got to wait. Don’t you suppose it’s hard for +me, too? Have I got nothing to bear?” + +Kenton went silently back to his book, which he took with him to the +reading-room, where from time to time his wife came to him and reported +that Ellen and Breckon were still walking up and down together, or that +they were sitting down talking, or were forward, looking over at the +prow, or were watching the deck-passengers dancing. Her husband received +her successive advices with relaxing interest, and when she had brought +the last she was aware that the affair was entirely in her hands with +all the responsibility. After the gay parting between Ellen and Breckon, +which took place late in the afternoon, she suffered an interval to +elapse before she followed the girl down to her state-room. She found +her lying in her berth, with shining eyes and glad, red cheeks; she was +smiling to herself. + +“That is right, Ellen,” her mother said. “You need rest after your long +tramp.” + +“I’m not tired. We were sitting down a good deal. I didn’t think how +late it was. I’m ever so much better. Where’s Lottie?” + +“Off somewhere with that young Englishman,” said Mrs. Kenton, as if that +were of no sort of consequence. “Ellen,” she added, abruptly, trying +within a tremulous smile to hide her eagerness, “what is this that Mr. +Breckon wants to talk with your father about?” + +“Mr. Breckon? With poppa?” + +“Yes, certainly. You told him this morning that Mr. Breckon--” + +“Oh! Oh yes!” said Ellen, as if recollecting something that had slipped +her mind. “He wants poppa to advise him whether to go back to his +congregation in New York or not.” + +Mrs. Kenton sat in the corner of the sofa next the door, looking into +the girl’s face on the pillow as she lay with her arms under her head. +Tears of defeat and shame came into her eyes, and she could not see the +girl’s light nonchalance in adding: + +“But he hasn’t got up his courage yet. He thinks he’ll ask him after +dinner. He says he doesn’t want poppa to think he’s posing. I don’t know +what he means.” + +Mrs. Kenton did not speak at once. Her bitterest mortification was not +for herself, but for the simple and tender father-soul which had been +so tried already. She did not know how he would bear it, the +disappointment, and the cruel hurt to his pride. But she wanted to fall +on her knees in thankfulness that he had betrayed himself only to her. + +She started in sudden alarm with the thought. “Where is he now--Mr. +Breckon?” + +“He’s gone with Boyne down into the baggage-room.” + +Mrs. Kenton sank back in her corner, aware now that she would not have +had the strength to go to her husband even to save him from the awful +disgrace of giving himself away to Breckon. “And was that all?” she +faltered. + +“All?” + +“That he wanted to speak to your father about?” + +She must make irrefragably sure, for Kenton’s sake, that she was not +misunderstanding. + +“Why, of course! What else? Why, momma! what are you crying about?” + +“I’m not crying, child. Just some foolishness of your father’s. He +understood--he thought--” Mrs. Kenton began to laugh hysterically. “But +you know how ridiculous he is; and he supposed--No, I won’t tell you!” + +It was not necessary. The girl’s mind, perhaps because it was imbued +already with the subject, had possessed itself of what filled her +mother’s. She dropped from the elbow on which she had lifted herself, +and turned her face into the pillow, with a long wail of shame. + + + + +XVIII. + +Mrs. Kenton’s difficulties in setting her husband right were +indefinitely heightened by the suspicion that the most unsuspicious of +men fell into concerning Breckon. Did Breckon suppose that the matter +could be turned off in that way? he stupidly demanded; and when he was +extricated from this error by his wife’s representation that Breckon +had not changed at all, but had never told Ellen that he wished to speak +with him of anything but his returning to his society, Kenton still +could not accept the fact. He would have contended that at least the +other matter must have been in Breckon’s mind; and when he was beaten +from this position, and convinced that the meaning they had taken from +Ellen’s words had never been in any mind but their own, he fell into +humiliation so abject that he could hide it only by the hauteur with +which he carried himself towards Breckon when they met at dinner. He +would scarcely speak to the young man; Ellen did not come to the +table; Lottie and Boyne and their friend Mr. Pogis were dining with the +Rasmiths, and Mrs. Kenton had to be, as she felt, cringingly kind to +Breckon in explaining just the sort of temporary headache that kept +her eldest daughter away. He was more than ordinarily sympathetic +and polite, but he was manifestly bewildered by Kenton’s behavior. He +refused an hilarious invitation from Mrs. Rasmith, when he rose from +table, to stop and have his coffee with her on his way out of the +saloon. His old adorer explained that she had ordered a small bottle of +champagne in honor of its being the night before they were to get into +Boulogne, and that he ought to sit down and help her keep the young +people straight. Julia, she brokenly syllabled, with the gay beverage +bubbling back into her throat, was not the least use; she was worse than +any. Julia did not look it, in the demure regard which she bent upon her +amusing mother, and Breckon persisted in refusing. He said he thought +he might safely leave them to Boyne, and Mrs. Rasmith said into her +handkerchief, “Oh yes! Boyne!” and pressed Boyne’s sleeve with her +knobbed and jewelled fingers. + +It was evident where most of the small bottle had gone, but Breckon was +none the cheerfuller for the spectacle of Mrs. Rasmith. He could not +have a moment’s doubt as to the sort of work he had been doing in New +York if she were an effect of it, and he turned his mind from the sad +certainty back to the more important inquiry as to what offence his wish +to advise with Judge Kenton could have conveyed. Ellen had told him in +the afternoon that she had spoken with her father about it, and she had +not intimated any displeasure or reluctance on him; but apparently he +had decided not to suffer himself to be approached. + +It might be as well. Breckon had not been able to convince himself that +his proposal to consult Judge Kenton was not a pose. He had flashes +of owning that it was contemplated merely as a means of ingratiating +himself with Ellen. Now, as he found his way up and down among the empty +steamer-chairs, he was aware, at the bottom of his heart, of not +caring in the least for Judge Kenton’s repellent bearing, except as it +possibly, or impossibly, reflected some mood of hers. He could not make +out her not coming to dinner; the headache was clearly an excuse; for +some reason she did not wish to see him, he argued, with the egotism of +his condition. + +The logic of his conclusion was strengthened at breakfast by her +continued absence; and this time Mrs. Kenton made no apologies for her. +The judge was a shade less severe; or else Breckon did not put himself +so much in the way to be withheld as he had the night before. Boyne and +Lottie carried on a sort of muted scrap, unrebuked by their mother, who +seemed too much distracted in some tacit trouble to mind them. From +time to time Breckon found her eyes dwelling upon him wonderingly, +entreatingly; she dropped them, if she caught his, and colored. + +In the afternoon it was early evident that they were approaching +Boulogne. The hatch was opened and the sailors began getting up the +baggage of the passengers who were going to disembark. It seemed a long +time for everybody till the steamer got in; those going ashore sat on +their hand-baggage for an hour before the tug came up to take, them +off. Mr. Pogis was among them; he had begun in the forenoon to mark +the approaching separation between Lottie and himself by intervals of +unmistakable withdrawal. Another girl might have cared, but Lottie did +not care, for her failure to get a rise out of him by her mockingly +varied “Oh, I say!” and “Well, rather!” In the growth of his dignified +reserve Mr. Pogis was indifferent to jeers. By whatever tradition +of what would or would not do he was controlled in relinquishing her +acquaintance, or whether it was in obedience to some imperative ideal, +or some fearful domestic influence subtly making itself felt from the +coasts of his native island, or some fine despair of equalling the +imagined grandeur of Lottie’s social state in Tuskingum by anything he +could show her in England, it was certain that he was ending with Lottie +then and there. At the same time he was carefully defining himself from +the Rasmiths, with whom he must land. He had his state-room things put +at an appreciable distance, where he did not escape a final stab from +Lottie. + +“Oh, do give me a rose out of that,” she entreated, in travestied +imploring, as he stood looking at a withered bouquet which the steward +had brought up with his rugs. + +“I’m takin’ it home,” he explained, coldly. + +“And I want to take a rose back to New York. I want to give it to a +friend of mine there.” + +Mr. Pogis hesitated. Then he asked, “A man?” “Well, rather!” said +Lottie. + +He answered nothing, but looked definitively down at the flowers in his +hand. + +“Oh, I say!” Lottie exulted. + +Boyne remained fixed in fealty to the Rasmiths, with whom Breckon was +also talking as Mrs. Kenton came up with the judge. She explained how +sorry her daughter Ellen was at not being able to say goodbye; she was +still not at all well; and the ladies received her excuses with polite +patience. Mrs. Rasmith said she did not know what they should do without +Boyne, and Miss Rasmith put her arm across his shoulders and pulled him +up to her, and implored, “Oh, give him to me, Mrs. Kenton!” + +Boyne stole an ashamed look at his mother, and his father said, with +an unbending to Breckon which must have been the effect of severe +expostulation from Mrs. Kenton, “I suppose you and the ladies will go to +Paris together.” + +“Why, no,” Breckon said, and he added, with mounting confusion, “I--I +had arranged to keep on to Rotterdam. I was going to mention it.” + +“Keep on to Rotterdam!” Mrs. Rasmith’s eyes expressed the greatest +astonishment. + +“Why, of course, mother!” said her daughter. “Don’t you know? Boyne told +us.” + +Boyne, after their parting, seized the first chance of assuring his +mother that he had not told Miss Rasmith that, for he had not known it, +and he went so far in her condemnation to wonder how she could say such +a thing. His mother said it was not very nice, and then suggested that +perhaps she had heard it from some one else, and thought it was he. +She acquitted him of complicity with Miss Rasmith in forbearing to +contradict her; and it seemed to her a fitting time to find out from +Boyne what she honestly could about the relation of the Rasmiths to Mr. +Breckon. It was very little beyond their supposition, which every one +else had shared, that he was going to land with them at Boulogne, and +he must have changed his mind very suddenly. Boyne had not heard the +Rasmiths speak of it. Miss Rasmith never spoke of Mr. Breckon at all; +but she seemed to want to talk of Ellen; she was always asking about +her, and what was the matter with her, and how long she had been sick. + +“Boyne,” said his mother, with a pang, “you didn’t tell her anything +about Ellen?” + +“Momma!” said the boy, in such evident abhorrence of the idea that she +rested tranquil concerning it. She paid little attention to what Boyne +told her otherwise of the Rasmiths. Her own horizon were so limited that +she could not have brought home to herself within them that wandering +life the Rasmiths led from climate to climate and sensation to +sensation, with no stay so long as the annually made in New York, where +they sometimes passed months enough to establish themselves in giving +and taking tea in a circle of kindred nomads. She conjectured as +ignorantly as Boyne himself that they were very rich, and it would +not have enlightened her to know that the mother was the widow of a +California politician, whom she had married in the sort of middle period +following upon her less mortuary survival of Miss Rasmith’s father, +whose name was not Rasmith. + +What Mrs. Kenton divined was that they had wanted to get Breckon, and +that so far as concerned her own interest in him they had wanted to +get him away from Ellen. In her innermost self-confidences she did not +permit herself the notion that Ellen had any right to him; but still it +was a relief to have them off the ship, and to have him left. Of all +the witnesses of the fact, she alone did not find it awkward. Breckon +himself found it very awkward. He did not wish to be with the +Rasmiths, but he found it uncomfortable not being with them, under +the circumstances, and he followed them ashore in tingling reveries of +explanation and apology. He had certainly meant to get off at Boulogne, +and when he had suddenly and tardily made up his mind to keep on to +Rotterdam, he had meant to tell them as soon as he had the labels on his +baggage changed. He had not meant to tell them why he had changed his +mind, and he did not tell them now in these tingling reveries. He did +not own the reason in his secret thoughts, for it no longer seemed a +reason; it no longer seemed a cause. He knew what the Rasmiths would +think; but he could easily make that right with his conscience, at +least, by parting with the Kentons at Rotterdam, and leaving them to +find their unconducted way to any point they chose beyond. He separated +himself uncomfortably from them when the tender had put off with +her passengers and the ship had got under way again, and went to the +smoking-room, while the judge returned to his book and Mrs. Kenton +abandoned Lottie to her own devices, and took Boyne aside for her +apparently fruitless inquiries. + +They were not really so fruitless but that at the end of them she could +go with due authority to look up her husband. She gently took his book +from him and shut it up. “Now, Mr. Kenton,” she began, “if you don’t go +right straight and find Mr. Breckon and talk with him, I--I don’t know +what I will do. You must talk to him--” + +“About Ellen?” the judge frowned. + +“No, certainly not. Talk with him about anything that interests you. Be +pleasant to him. Can’t you see that he’s going on to Rotterdam on our +account?” + +“Then I wish he wasn’t. There’s no use in it.” + +“No matter! It’s polite in him, and I want you to show him that you +appreciate it.” + +“Now see here, Sarah,” said the judge, “if you want him shown that we +appreciate his politeness why don’t you do it yourself?” + +“I? Because it would look as if you were afraid to. It would look as if +we meant something by it.” + +“Well, I am afraid; and that’s just what I’m afraid of. I declare, my +heart comes into my mouth whenever I think what an escape we had. I +think of it whenever I look at him, and I couldn’t talk to him without +having that in my mind all the time. No, women can manage those things +better. If you believe he is going along on our account, so as to help +us see Holland, and to keep us from getting into scrapes, you’re the +one to make it up to him. I don’t care what you say to show him our +gratitude. I reckon we will get into all sorts of trouble if we’re left +to ourselves. But if you think he’s stayed because he wants to be with +Ellen, and--” + +“Oh, I don’t KNOW what I think! And that’s silly I can’t talk to him. +I’m afraid it’ll seem as if we wanted to flatter him, and goodness knows +we don’t want to. Or, yes, we do! I’d give anything if it was true. +Rufus, do you suppose he did stay on her account? My, oh my! If I could +only think so! Wouldn’t it be the best thing in the world for the poor +child, and for all of us? I never saw anybody that I liked so much. But +it’s too good to be true.” + +“He’s a nice fellow, but I don’t think he’s any too good for Ellen.” + +“I’m not saying he is. The great thing is that he’s good enough, and +gracious knows what will happen if she meets some other worthless +fellow, and gets befooled with him! Or if she doesn’t take a fancy to +some one, and goes back to Tuskingum without seeing any one else she +likes, there is that awful wretch, and when she hears what Dick did to +him--she’s just wrong-headed enough to take up with him again to make +amends to him. Oh, dear oh, dear! I know Lottie will let it out to her +yet!” + +The judge began threateningly, “You tell Lottie from me--” + +“What?” said the girl herself, who had seen her father and mother +talking together in a remote corner of the music-room and had stolen +light-footedly upon them just at this moment. + +“Lottie, child,” said her mother, undismayed at Lottie’s arrival in her +larger anxiety, “I wish you would try and be agreeable to Mr. Breckon. +Now that he’s going on with us to Holland, I don’t want him to think +we’re avoiding him.” + +“Why?” + +“Oh, because.” + +“Because you want to get him for Ellen?” + +“Don’t be impudent,” said her father. “You do as your mother bids you.” + +“Be agreeable to that old Breckon? I think I see myself! I’d sooner +read! I’m going to get a book now.” She left them as abruptly as she had +come upon them, and ran across to the bookcase, where she remained two +stepping and peering through the glass doors at the literature within, +in unaccustomed question concerning it. + +“She’s a case,” said the judge, looking at her not only with relenting, +but with the pride in her sufficiency for all the exigencies of life +which he could not feel in Ellen. “She can take care of herself.” + +“Oh yes,” Mrs. Kenton sadly assented, “I don’t think anybody will ever +make a fool of Lottie.” + +“It’s a great deal more likely to be the other way,” her father +suggested. + +“I think Lottie is conscientious,” Mrs. Kenton protested. “She wouldn’t +really fool with a man.” + +“No, she’s a good girl,” the judge owned. + +“It’s girls like Ellen who make the trouble and the care. They are too +good, and you have to think some evil in this world. Well!” She rose and +gave her husband back his book. + +“Do you know where Boyne is?” + +“No. Do you want him to be pleasant to Mr. Breckon?” + +“Somebody has got to. But it would be ridiculous if nobody but Boyne +was.” + +She did not find Boyne, after no very exhaustive search, and the boy was +left to form his bearing towards Breckon on the behavior of the rest of +his family. As this continued helplessly constrained both in his father +and mother, and voluntarily repellent in Lottie, Boyne decided upon a +blend of conduct which left Breckon in greater and greater doubt of his +wisdom in keeping on to Rotterdam. There was no good reason which he +would have been willing to give himself, from the beginning. It had been +an impulse, suddenly coming upon him in the baggage-room where he had +gone to get something out of his trunk, and where he had decided to +have the label of his baggage changed from the original destination at +Boulogne to the final port of the steamer’s arrival. When this was once +done he was sorry, but he was ashamed to have the label changed back. +The most assignable motive for his act was his reluctance to go on +to Paris with the Rasmiths, or rather with Mrs. Rasmith; for with her +daughter, who was not a bad fellow, one could always manage. He was +quite aware of being safely in his own hands against any design of Mrs. +Rasmith’s, but her machinations humiliated him for her; he hated to see +her going through her manoeuvres, and he could not help grieving for her +failures, with a sort of impersonal sympathy, all the more because he +disliked her as little as he respected her. + +The motive which he did not assign to himself was that which probably +prevailed with him, though in the last analysis it was as selfish, +no doubt, as the one he acknowledged. Ellen Kenton still piqued his +curiosity, still touched his compassion. He had so far from exhausted +his wish or his power to befriend her, to help her, that he had still a +wholly unsatisfied longing to console her, especially when she drooped +into that listless attitude she was apt to take, with her face fallen +and her hands let lie, the back of one in the palm of the other, in +her lap. It was possibly the vision of this following him to the +baggage-room, when he went to open his trunk, that as much as anything +decided him to have the label changed on his baggage, but he did not own +it then, and still less did he own it now, when he found himself quite +on his own hands for his pains. + +He felt that for some reason the Kentons were all avoiding him. Ellen, +indeed, did not take part, against him, unless negatively, for she had +appeared neither at lunch nor at dinner as the vessel kept on its way +after leaving Boulogne; and when he ventured to ask for her Mrs. Kenton +answered with embarrassment that she was not feeling very well. He asked +for her at lunch, but not at dinner, and when he had finished that meal +he went on the promenade-deck, and walked forlornly up and down, feeling +that he had been a fool. + +Mrs. Kenton went below to her daughter’s room, and found Ellen there +on the sofa, with her book shut on her thumb at the place where the +twilight had failed her. + +“Ellen, dear,” her mother said, “aren’t you feeling well?” + +“Yes, I’m well enough,” said the girl, sensible of a leading in the +question. “Why?” + +“Oh, nothing. Only--only I can’t make your father behave naturally with +Mr. Breckon. He’s got his mind so full of that mistake we both came so +near making that he can’t think of anything else. He’s so sheepish +about it that he can hardly speak to him or even look at him; and I must +confess that I don’t do much better. You know I don’t like to put myself +forward where your father is, and if I did, really I don’t believe I +could make up my mouth to say anything. I did want Lottie to be nice +to him, but Lottie dislikes him so! And even Boyne--well, it wouldn’t +matter about Boyne, if he didn’t seem to be carrying out a sort of +family plan--Boyne barely answers him when he speaks to him. I don’t +know what he can think.” Ellen was a good listener, and Mrs. Kenton, +having begun, did not stop till she had emptied the bag. “I just know +that he didn’t get off at Boulogne because he wanted to stay on with us, +and thought he could be useful to us at The Hague, and everywhere; and +here we’re acting as ungratefully! Why, we’re not even commonly polite +to him, and I know he feels it. I know that he’s hurt.” + +Ellen rose and stood before the glass, into which he asked of her +mother’s reflected face, while she knotted a fallen coil of hair into +its place, “Where is he?” + +“I don’t know. He went on deck somewhere.” + +Ellen put on her hat and pinned it, and put on her jacket and buttoned +it. Then she started towards the door. Her mother made way for her, +faltering, “What are you going to do, Ellen?” + +“I am going to do right.” + +“Don’t-catch cold!” her mother called after her figure vanishing down +the corridor, but the warning couched in these terms had really no +reference to the weather. + +The girl’s impulse was one of those effects of the weak will in her +which were apt to leave her short of the fulfilment of a purpose. It +carried her as her as the promenade, which she found empty, and she went +and leaned upon the rail, and looked out over the sorrowful North Sea, +which was washing darkly away towards where the gloomy sunset had been. + +Steps from the other side of the ship approached, hesitated towards her, +and then arrested themselves. She looked round. + +“Why, Miss Kenton!” said Breckon, stupidly. + +“The sunset is over, isn’t it?” she answered. + +“The twilight isn’t.” Breckon stopped; then he asked, “Wouldn’t you like +to take a little walk?” + +“Yes,” she answered, and smiled fully upon him. He had never known +before how radiant a smile she lead. + +“Better have my arm. It’s getting rather dark.” + +“Well.” She put her hand on his arm and he felt it tremble there, while +she palpitated, “We are all so glad you could go on to Rotterdam. My +mother wanted me to tell you.” + +“Oh, don’t speak of that,” said Breckon, not very appositely. Presently +he forced a laugh, in order to add, with lightness, “I was afraid +perhaps I had given you all some reason to regret it!” + +She said, “I was afraid you would think that--or momma was--and I +couldn’t bear to have you.” + +“Well, then, I won’t.” + + + + + +XIX. + +Breckon had answered with gayety, but his happiness was something beyond +gayety. He had really felt the exclusion from the Kentons in which he +had passed the day, and he had felt it the more painfully because +he liked them all. It may be owned that he liked Ellen best from the +beginning, and now he liked her better than ever, but even in the day’s +exile he had not ceased to like each of them. They were, in their family +affection, as lovable as that sort of selfishness can make people. They +were very united and good to one another. Lottie herself, except in +her most lurid moments, was good to her brother and sister, and almost +invariably kind to her parents. She would not, Breckon saw, have brooked +much meddling with her flirtations from them, but as they did not offer +to meddle, she had no occasion to grumble on that score. She grumbled +when they asked her to do things for Ellen, but she did them, and though +she never did them without grumbling, she sometimes did them without +being asked. She was really very watchful of Ellen when it would least +have been expected, and sometimes she was sweet. She never was sweet +with Boyne, but she was often his friend, though this did not keep her +from turning upon him at the first chance to give him a little dig, or +a large one, for that matter. As for Boyne, he was a mass of helpless +sweetness, though he did not know it, and sometimes took himself for +an iceberg when he was merely an ice-cream of heroic mould. He was as +helplessly sweet with Lottie as with any one, and if he suffered keenly +from her treacheries, and seized every occasion to repay them in kind, +it was clearly a matter of conscience with him, and always for the good. +Their father and mother treated their squabbles very wisely, Breckon +thought. They ignored them as much as possible, and they recognized +them without attempting to do that justice between them which would have +rankled in both their breasts. + +To a spectator who had been critical at first, Mr. and Mrs. Kenton +seemed an exemplary father and mother with Ellen as well as with their +other children. It is easy to be exemplary with a sick girl, but they +increasingly affected Breckon as exemplary with Ellen. He fancied that +they acted upon each other beneficially towards her. At first he had +foreboded some tiresome boasting from the father’s tenderness, and some +weak indulgence of the daughter’s whims from her mother; but there was +either never any ground for this, or else Mrs. Kenton, in keeping her +husband from boasting, had been obliged in mere consistency to set a +guard upon her own fondness. + +It was not that. Ellen, he was more and more decided, would have abused +the weakness of either; if there was anything more angelic than her +patience, it was her wish to be a comfort to them, and, between the +caprices of her invalidism, to be a service. It was pathetic to see her +remembering to do things for them which Boyne and Lottie had forgotten, +or plainly shirked doing, and to keep the fact out of sight. She really +kept it out of sight with them, and if she did not hide it from so close +an observer as Breckon, that was more his fault than hers. When her +father first launched out in her praise, or the praise of her reading, +the young man had dreaded a rustic prig; yet she had never been a prig, +but simply glad of what book she had known, and meekly submissive to his +knowledge if not his taste. He owned that she had a right to her taste, +which he found almost always good, and accounted for as instinctive in +the absence of an imaginable culture in her imaginable ambient. So far +as he had glimpses of this, he found it so different from anything +he had known that the modest adequacy of Mrs. Kenton in the political +experiences of modern Europe, as well as the clear judgments of Kenton +himself in matters sometimes beyond Breekon himself, mystified him no +less than Ellen’s taste. + +Even with the growth of his respect for their intelligence and his love +of their kindliness, he had not been able to keep a certain patronage +from mingling, and it was not till they evinced not only entire ability, +but an apparent wish to get on without his approval, without his +acquaintance even, that he had conceived a just sense of them. The like +is apt to happen with the best of us, when we are also the finest, and +Breckon was not singular in coming to a due consciousness of something +valuable only in the hour of its loss. He did not know that the loss was +only apparent. He knew that he had made a distinct sacrifice for these +people, and that, when he had prepared himself to befriend them little +short of self-devotion, they showed themselves indifferent, and almost +repellent. In the revulsion of feeling, when Ellen gave him her mother’s +message, and frankly offered him reparation on behalf of her whole +family, he may have overdone his gratitude, but he did not overdo it to +her perception. They walked up and down the promenade of the Amstel, +in the watery North Sea moon, while bells after bells noted the hour +unheeded, and when they parted for the night it was with an involuntary +pressure of hands, from which she suddenly pulled hers, and ran down the +corridor of her state-room and Lottie’s. + +He stood watching the narrow space in which she had vanished, and +thinking how gentle she was, and how she had contrived somehow to make +him feel that now it was she who had been consoling him, and trying to +interest him and amuse him. He had not realized that before; he had +been used to interesting and amusing her, but he could not resent it; +he could not resent the implication of superiority, if such a thing were +possible, which her kindness conveyed. The question with Breckon was +whether she had walked with him so long because she wished, in the hour, +to make up as fully as possible for the day’s neglect, or because she +had liked to walk up and down with him. It was a question he found +keeping itself poignantly, yet pleasantly, in his mind, after he had got +into his berth under the solidly slumberous Boyne, and inclining now to +one solution and now to the other, with a delicate oscillation that was +charming. + +The Amstel took her time to get into Rotterdam, and when her passengers +had gone ashore the next forenoon the train that carried Breckon to The +Hague in the same compartment with the Kentons was in no greater hurry. +It arrived with a deliberation which kept it from carrying them on to +Amsterdam before they knew it, and Mrs. Kenton had time to place such +parts of the wars in the Rise of the Dutch Republic as she could attach +to the names of the stations and the general features of the landscape. +Boyne was occupied with improvements for the windmills and the +canal-boats, which did not seem to him of the quality of the Michigan +aerometers, or the craft with which he was familiar on the Hudson River +and on the canal that passed through Tuskingum. Lottie, with respect +to the canals, offered the frank observation that they smelt, and in +recognizing a fact which travel almost universally ignores in Holland, +she watched her chance of popping up the window between herself and +Boyne, which Boyne put down with mounting rage. The agriculture which +triumphed everywhere on the little half--acre plots lifted fifteen +inches above the waters of the environing ditches, and the black and +white cattle everywhere attesting the immemorial Dutch ideal of a cow, +were what at first occupied Kenton, and he was tardily won from them to +the question of fighting over a country like that. It was a concession +to his wife’s impassioned interest in the overthrow of the Spaniards in +a landscape which had evidently not changed since. She said it was hard +to realize that Holland was not still a republic, and she was not very +patient with Breckon’s defence of the monarchy on the ground that the +young Queen was a very pretty girl. + +“And she is only sixteen,” Boyne urged. + +“Then she is two years too old for you,” said Lottie. + +“No such thing!” Boyne retorted. “I was fifteen in June.” + +“Dear me! I should never have thought it,” said his sister. + +Ellen seemed hardly to look out of the window at anything directly, but +when her father bade her see this thing and that, it seemed that she had +seen it already. She said at last, with a quiet sigh, “I never want to +go away.” + +She had been a little shy of Breckon the whole morning, and had kept him +asking himself whether she was sorry she had walked so long with him the +night before, or, having offered him due reparation for her family, she +was again dropping him. Now and then he put her to the test by words +explicitly directed at her, and she replied with the dreamy passivity +which seemed her normal mood, and in which he could fancy himself half +forgotten, or remembered with an effort. + +In the midst of this doubt she surprised him--he reflected that she was +always surprising him--by asking him how far it was from The Hague to +the sea. He explained that The Hague was in the sea like all the rest +of Holland, but that if she meant the shore, it was no distance at all. +Then she said, vaguely, she wished they were going to the shore. Her +father asked Breckon if there was not a hotel at the beach, and the +young man tried to give him a notion of the splendors of the Kurhaus +at Scheveningen; of Scheveningen itself he despaired of giving any just +notion. + +“Then we can go there,” said the judge, ignoring Ellen, in his decision, +as if she had nothing to do with it. + +Lottie interposed a vivid preference for The Hague. She had, she said, +had enough of the sea for one while, and did not want to look at it +again till they sailed for home. Boyne turned to his father as if a good +deal shaken by this reasoning, and it was Mrs. Kenton who carried the +day for going first to a hotel in The Hague and prospecting from there +in the direction of Scheveningen; Boyne and his father could go down to +the shore and see which they liked best. + +“I don’t see what that has to do with me,” said Lottie. No one was +alarmed by her announcement that if she did not like Scheveningen she +should stay at The Hague, whatever the rest did; in the event fortune +favored her going with her family. + +The hotel in The Hague was very pleasant, with a garden behind it, where +a companionable cat had found a dry spot, and where Lottie found the +cat and made friends with it. But she said the hotel was full of Cook’s +tourists, whom she recognized, in spite of her lifelong ignorance of +them, by a prescience derived from the conversation of Mr. Pogis, and +from the instinct of a society woman, already rife in her. She found +that she could not stay in a hotel with Cook’s tourists, and she +took her father’s place in the exploring party which went down to the +watering-place in the afternoon, on the top of a tram-car, under the +leafy roof of the adorable avenue of trees which embowers the track to +Scheveningen. She disputed Boyne’s impressions of the Dutch people, whom +he found looking more like Americans than any foreigners he had seen, +and she snubbed Breckon from his supposed charge of the party. But after +the start, when she declared that Ellen could not go, and that it was +ridiculous for her to think of it, she was very good to her, and looked +after her safety and comfort with a despotic devotion. + +At the Kurhaus she promptly took the lead in choosing rooms, for she had +no doubt of staying there after the first glance at the place, and +she showed a practical sense in settling her family which at least her +mother appreciated when they were installed the next day. + +Mrs. Kenton could not make her husband admire Lottie’s faculty so +readily. “You think it would have been better for her to sit down with +Ellen, on the sand and dream of the sea,” she reproached him, with a +tender resentment on behalf of Lottie. “Everybody can’t dream.” + +“Yes, but I wish she didn’t keep awake with such a din,” said the judge. +After all, he admired Lottie’s judgment about the rooms, and he censured +her with a sigh of relief from care as he sank back in the easy-chair +fronting the window that looked out on the North Sea; Lottie had already +made him appreciate the view till he was almost sick of it. + +“What is the matter?” said Mrs. Kenton, sharply. “Do you want to be +in Tuskingum? I suppose you would rather be looking into Richard’s +back-yard.” + +“No,” said the judge, mildly, “this is very nice.” + +“It will do Ellen good, every minute. I don’t care how much she sits on +the sands and dream. I’ll love to see her.” + +The sitting on the sand was a survival of Mr. Kenton’s preoccupations +of the sea-side. As a mater of fact, Ellen was at that moment sitting in +one of the hooked wicker arm-chairs which were scattered over the whole +vast beach like a growth of monstrous mushrooms, and, confronting her +in cosey proximity, Breckon sat equally hidden in another windstuhl. Her +father and her mother were able to keep them placed, among the multitude +of windstuhls, by the presence of Lottie, who hovered near them, and, +with Boyne, fended off the demure, wicked-looking little Scheveningen +girls. On a smaller scale these were exactly like their demure, +wicked-looking Scheveningen mothers, and they approached with knitting +in their hands, and with large stones folded in their aprons, which they +had pilfered from the mole, and were trying to sell for footstools. The +windstuhl men and they were enemies, and when Breckon bribed them to go +away, the windstuhl men chased them, and the little girls ran, making +mouths at Boyne over their shoulders. He scorned to notice them; but he +was obliged to report the misconduct of Lottie, who began making eyes at +the Dutch officers as soon as she could feel that Ellen was safely off +her hands. She was the more exasperating and the more culpable to Boyne, +because she had asked him to walk up the beach with her, and had then +made the fraternal promenade a basis of operations against the Dutch +military. She joined her parents in ignoring Boyne’s complaints, and +continued to take credit for all the pleasant facts of the situation; +she patronized her family as much for the table d’hote at luncheon as +for the comfort of their rooms. She was able to assure them that there +was not a Cook’s tourist in the hotel, where there seemed to be nearly +every other kind of fellow-creature. At the end of the first week she +had acquaintance of as many nationalities as she could reach in their +native or acquired English, in all the stages of haughty toleration, +vivid intimacy, and cold exhaustion. She had a faculty for getting +through with people, or of ceasing to have any use for them, which was +perhaps her best safeguard in her adventurous flirting; while the simple +aliens were still in the full tide of fancied success, Lottie was sick +of them all, and deep in an indiscriminate correspondence with her young +men in Tuskingum. + +The letters which she had invited from these while still in New York +arrived with the first of those readdressed from the judge’s London +banker. She had more letters than all the rest of the family together, +and counted a half-dozen against a poor two for her sister. Mrs. Kenton +cared nothing about Lottie’s letters, but she was silently uneasy about +the two that Ellen carelessly took. She wondered who could be writing to +Ellen, especially in a cover bearing a handwriting altogether strange to +her. + +“It isn’t from Bittridge, at any rate,” she said to her husband, in the +speculation which she made him share. “I am always dreading to have her +find out what Richard did. It would spoil everything, I’m afraid, and +now everything is going so well. I do wish Richard hadn’t, though, of +course, he did it for the best. Who do you think has been writing to +her?” + +“Why don’t you ask her?” + +“I suppose she will tell me after a while. I don’t like to seem to be +following her up. One was from Bessie Pearl, I think.” + +Ellen did not speak of her letters to her mother, and after waiting a +day or two, Mrs. Kenton could not refrain from asking her. + +“Oh, I forgot,” said Ellen. “I haven’t read them yet.” + +“Haven’t read them!” said Mrs. Kenton. Then, after reflection, she +added, “You are a strange girl, Ellen,” and did not venture to say more. + +“I suppose I thought I should have to answer them, and that made me +careless. But I will read them.” Her mother was silent, and presently +Ellen added: “I hate to think of the past. Don’t you, momma?” + +“It is certainly very pleasant here,” said Mrs. Kenton, cautiously. +“You’re enjoying yourself--I mean, you seem to be getting so much +stronger.” + +“Why, momma, why do you talk as if I had been sick?” Ellen asked. + +“I mean you’re so much interested.” + +“Don’t I go about everywhere, like anybody?” Ellen pursued, ignoring her +explanation. + +“Yes, you certainly do. Mr. Breckon seems to like going about.” + +Ellen did not respond to the suggestion except to say: “We go into all +sorts of places. This morning we went up on that schooner that’s drawn +up on the beach, and the old man who was there was very pleasant. I +thought it was a wreck, but Mr. Breckon says they are always drawing +their ships that way up on the sand. The old man was patching some +of the wood-work, and he told Mr. Breckon--he can speak a little +Dutch--that they were going to drag her down to the water and go fishing +as soon as he was done. He seemed to think we were brother and sister.” + She flushed a little, and then she said: “I believe I like the dunes as +well as anything. Sometimes when those curious cold breaths come in +from the sea we climb up in the little hollows on the other side and sit +there out of the draft. Everybody seems to do it.” + +Apparently Ellen was submitting the propriety of the fact to her mother, +who said: “Yes, it seems to be quite the same as it is at home. I +always supposed that it was different with young people here. There is +certainly no harm in it.” + +Ellen went on, irrelevantly. “I like to go and look at the Scheveningen +women mending the nets on the sand back of the dunes. They have such +good gossiping times. They shouted to us last evening, and then laughed +when they saw us watching them. When they got through their work they +got up and stamped off so strong, with their bare, red arms folded into +their aprons, and their skirts sticking out so stiff. Yes, I should like +to be like them.” + +“You, Ellen!” + +“Yes; why not?” + +Mrs. Kenton found nothing better to answer than, + +“They were very material looking.” + +“They are very happy looking. They live in the present. That is what +I should like: living in the present, and not looking backwards or +forwards. After all, the present is the only life we’ve got, isn’t it?” + +“I suppose you may say it is,” Mrs. Kenton admitted, not knowing just +where the talk was leading, but dreading to interrupt it. + +“But that isn’t the Scheveningen woman’s only ideal. Their other +ideal is to keep the place clean. Saturday afternoon they were all out +scrubbing the brick sidewalks, and clear into the middle of the street. +We were almost ashamed to walk over the nice bricks, and we picked out +as many dirty places as we could find.” + +Ellen laughed, with a light-hearted gayety that was very strange to her, +and Mrs. Kenton, as she afterwards told her husband, did not know what +to think. + +“I couldn’t help wondering,” she said, “whether the poor child would +have liked to keep on living in the present a month ago.” + +“Well, I’m glad you didn’t say so,” the judge answered. + + + + +XX. + +From the easy conquest of the men who looked at her Lottie proceeded to +the subjection of the women. It would have been more difficult to put +these down, if the process had not been so largely, so almost entirely +subjective. As it was, Lottie exchanged snubs with many ladies of the +continental nationalities who were never aware of having offered or +received offence. In some cases, when they fearlessly ventured to speak +with her, they behaved very amiable, and seemed to find her conduct +sufficiently gracious in return. In fact, she was approachable enough, +and had no shame, before Boyne, in dismounting from the high horse which +she rode when alone with him, and meeting these ladies on foot, at least +half-way. She made several of them acquainted with her mother, who, +after a timorous reticence, found them very conversable, with a range of +topics, however, that shocked her American sense of decorum. One +Dutch lady talked with such manly freedom, and with such untrammelled +intimacy, that she was obliged to send Boyne and Lottie about their +business, upon an excuse that was not apparent to the Dutch lady. She +only complimented Mrs. Kenton upon her children and their devotion +to each other, and when she learned that Ellen was also her daughter, +ventured the surmise she was not long married. + +“It isn’t her husband,” Mrs. Kenton explained, with inward trouble. +“It’s just a gentleman that came over with us,” and she went with her +trouble to her own husband as soon as she could. + +“I’m afraid it isn’t the custom to go around alone with young men as +much as Ellen thinks,” she suggested. + +“He ought to know,” said the judge. “I don’t suppose he would if it +wasn’t.” + +“That is true,” Mrs. Kenton owned, and for the time she put her +misgivings away. + +“So long as we do nothing wrong,” the judge decided, “I don’t see why we +should not keep to our own customs.” + +“Lottie says they’re not ours, in New York.” + +“Well, we are not in New York now.” + +They had neither of them the heart to interfere with Ellen’s happiness, +for, after all, Breckon was careful enough of the appearances, and it +was only his being constantly with Ellen that suggested the Dutch lady’s +surmise. In fact, the range of their wanderings was not beyond the +dunes, though once they went a little way on one of the neatly bricked +country roads that led towards The Hague. As yet there had been no +movement in any of the party to see the places that lie within such easy +tram-reach of The Hague, and the hoarded interest of the past in +their keeping. Ellen chose to dwell in the actualities which were +an enlargement of her own present, and Lottie’s active spirit found +employment enough in the amusements at the Kurhaus. She shopped in the +little bazars which make a Saratoga under the colonnades fronting two +sides of the great space before the hotel, and she formed a critical +and exacting taste in music from a constant attendance at the afternoon +concerts; it is true that during the winter in New York she had cast +forever behind her the unsophisticated ideals of Tuskingum in the art, +so that from the first she was able to hold the famous orchestra that +played in the Kurhaus concert-room up to the highest standard. She had +no use for anybody who had any use for rag-time, and she was terribly +severe with a young American, primarily of Boyne’s acquaintance, who +tried to make favor with her by asking about the latest coon-songs. She +took the highest ethical ground with him about tickets in a charitable +lottery which he had bought from the portier, but could not move him on +the lower level which he occupied. He offered to give her the picture +which was the chief prize, in case he won it, and she assured him +beforehand that she should not take it. She warned Boyne against him, +under threats of exposure to their mother, as not a good influence, but +one afternoon, when the young Queen of Holland came to the concert with +the queen-mother, Lottie cast her prejudices to the winds in accepting +the places which the wicked fellow-countryman offered Boyne and herself, +when they had failed to get any where they could see the queens, as the +Dutch called them. + +The hotel was draped with flags, and banked with flowers about the +main entrance where the queens were to arrive, and the guests massed +themselves in a dense lane for them to pass through. Lottie could +not fail to be one of the foremost in this array, and she was able +to decide, when the queens had passed, that the younger would not be +considered a more than average pretty girl in America, and that she was +not very well dressed. They had all stood within five feet of her, and +Boyne had appropriated one of the prettiest of the pretty bends which +the gracious young creature made to right and left, and had responded to +it with an ‘empressement’ which he hoped had not been a sacrifice of his +republican principles. + +During the concert he sat with his eyes fixed upon the Queen where she +sat in the royal box, with her mother and her ladies behind her, and +wondered and blushed to wonder if she had noticed him when he bowed, or +if his chivalric devotion in applauding her when the audience rose to +receive her had been more apparent than that of others; whether it had +seemed the heroic act of setting forth at the head of her armies, to +beat back a German invasion, which it had essentially been, with his +instantaneous return as victor, and the Queen’s abdication and adoption +of republican principles under conviction of his reasoning, and her +idolized consecration as the first chief of the Dutch republic. His +cheeks glowed, and he quaked at heart lest Lottie should surprise his +thoughts and expose them to that sarcastic acquaintance, who proved to +be a medical student resting at Scheveningen from the winter’s courses +and clinics in, Vienna. He had already got on to many of Boyne’s curves, +and had sacrilegiously suggested the Queen of Holland when he found him +feeding his fancy on the modern heroical romances; he advised him as an +American adventurer to compete with the European princes paying court +to her. So thin a barrier divided that malign intelligence from Boyne’s +most secret dreams that he could never feel quite safe from him, and yet +he was always finding himself with him, now that he was separated from +Miss Rasmith, and Mr. Breckon was taken up so much with Ellen. On the +ship he could put many things before Mr. Breckon which must here perish +in his breast, or suffer the blight of this Mr. Trannel’s raillery. The +student sat near the Kentons at table, and he was no more reverent of +the judge’s modest convictions than of Boyne’s fantastic preoccupations. +The worst of him was that you could not help liking him: he had a +fascination which the boy felt while he dreaded him, and now and then +he did something so pleasant that when he said something unpleasant you +could hardly believe it. + +At the end of the concert, when he rose and stood with all the rest, +while the royal party left their box, and the orchestra played the Dutch +national hymn, he said, in a loud whisper, to Boyne: “Now’s your time, +my boy! Hurry out and hand her into her carriage!” + +Boyne fairly reeled at the words which translated a passage of the wild +drama playing itself in his brain, and found little support in +bidding his tormentor, “Shut up!” The retort, rude as it was, seemed +insufficient, but Boyne tried in vain to think of something else. +He tried to punish him by separating Lottie from him, but failed as +signally in that. She went off with him, and sat in a windstuhl facing +his the rest of the afternoon, with every effect of carrying on. + +Boyne was helpless, with his mother against it, when he appealed to her +to let him go and tell Lottie that she wanted her. Mrs. Kenton said that +she saw no harm in it, that Ellen was sitting in like manner with Mr. +Breckon. + +“Mr. Breckon is very different, and Ellen knows how to behave,” + he urged, but his mother remained unmoved, or was too absent about +something to take any interest in the matter. In fact, she was again +unhappy about Ellen, though she put on such an air of being easy about +her. Clearly, so far as her maternal surmise could fathom the case, Mr. +Breckon was more and more interested in Ellen, and it was evident that +the child was interested in him. The situation was everything that was +acceptable to Mrs. Kenton, but she shuddered at the cloud which hung +over it, and which might any moment involve it. Again and again she had +made sure that Lottie had given Ellen no hint of Richard’s ill-advised +vengeance upon Bittridge; but it was not a thing that could be kept +always, and the question was whether it could be kept till Ellen had +accepted Mr. Breckon and married him. This was beyond the question of +his asking her to do so, but it was so much more important that Mrs. +Kenton was giving it her attention first, quite out of the order of +time. Besides, she had every reason, as she felt, to count upon the +event. Unless he was trifling with Ellen, far more wickedly than +Bittridge, he was in love with her, and in Mrs. Kenton’s simple +experience and philosophy of life, being in love was briefly preliminary +to marrying. If she went with her anxieties to her husband, she had +first to reduce him from a buoyant optimism concerning the affair before +she could get him to listen seriously. When this was accomplished he +fell into such despair that she ended in lifting him up and supporting +him with hopes that she did not feel herself. What they were both united +in was the conviction that nothing so good could happen in the world, +but they were equally united in the old American tradition that they +must not lift a finger to secure this supreme good for their child. + +It did not seem to them that leaving the young people constantly to +themselves was doing this. They interfered with Ellen now neither more +nor less than they had interfered with her as to Bittridge, or than +they would have interfered with her in the case of any one else. She was +still to be left entirely to herself in such matters, and Mrs. Kenton +would have kept even her thoughts off her if she could. She would have +been very glad to give her mind wholly to the study of the great events +which had long interested her here in their scene, but she felt that +until the conquest of Mr. Breckon was secured beyond the hazard of +Ellen’s morbid defection at the supreme moment, she could not give her +mind to the history of the Dutch republic. + +“Don’t bother me about Lottie, Boyne,” she said. “I have enough to think +of without your nonsense. If this Mr. Trannel is an American, that +is all that is necessary. We are all Americans together, and I don’t +believe it will make remark, Lottie’s sitting on the beach with him.” + +“I don’t see how he’s different from that Bittridge,” said Boyne. “He +doesn’t care for anything; and he plays the banjo just like him.” + +Mrs. Kenton was too troubled to laugh. She said, with finality, “Lottie +can take care of herself,” and then she asked, “Boyne, do you know whom +Ellen’s letters were from?” + +“One was from Bessie Pearl--” + +“Yes, she showed me that. But you don’t know who the other was from?” + +“No; she didn’t tell me. You know how close Ellen is.” + +“Yes,” the mother sighed, “she is very odd.” + +Then she added, “Don’t you let her know that I asked you about her +letters.” + +“No,” said Boyne. His audience was apparently at an end, but he seemed +still to have something on his mind. “Momma,” he began afresh. + +“Well?” she answered, a little impatiently. + +“Nothing. Only I got to thinking, Is a person able to control +their--their fancies?” + +“Fancies about what?” + +“Oh, I don’t know. About falling in love.” Boyne blushed. + +“Why do you want to know? You musn’t think about such things, a boy like +you! It’s a great pity that you ever knew anything about that Bittridge +business. It’s made you too bold. But it seems to have been meant to +drag us down and humiliate us in every way.” + +“Well, I didn’t try to know anything about it,” Boyne retorted. + +“No, that’s true,” his mother did him the justice to recognize. “Well, +what is it you want to know?” Boyne was too hurt to answer at once, and +his mother had to coax him a little. She did it sweetly, and apologized +to him for saying what she had said. After all, he was the youngest, +and her baby still. Her words and caresses took effect at last, and he +stammered out, “Is everybody so, or is it only the Kentons that seem +to be always putting--well, their affections--where it’s perfectly +useless?” + +His mother pushed him from her. “Boyne, are you silly about that +ridiculous old Miss Rasmith?” + +“No!” Boyne shouted, savagely, “I’m NOT!” + +“Who is it, then?” + +“I sha’n’t tell you!” Boyne said, and tears of rage and shame came into +his eyes. + + + + + +XXI. + +In his exile from his kindred, for it came practically to that, Boyne +was able to add a fine gloom to the state which he commonly observed +with himself when he was not giving way to his morbid fancies or his +morbid fears, and breaking down in helpless subjection to the nearest +member of his household. Lottie was so taken up with her student that +she scarcely quarrelled with him any more, and they had no longer those +moments of union in which they stood together against the world. His +mother had cast him off, as he felt, very heartlessly, though it was +really because she could not give his absurdities due thought in view of +the hopeful seriousness of Ellen’s affair, and Boyne was aware that +his father at the best of times was ignorant of him when he was not +impatient of him. These were not the best of times with Judge Kenton, +and Boyne was not the first object of his impatience. In the last +analysis he was living until he could get home, and so largely in the +hope of this that his wife at times could scarcely keep him from taking +some step that would decide the matter between Ellen and Breckon at +once. They were tacitly agreed that they were waiting for nothing else, +and, without making their agreement explicit, she was able to quell him +by asking what he expected to do in case there was nothing between them? +Was he going to take the child back to Tuskingum, which was the same +as taking her back to Bittridge? it hurt her to confront him with this +question, and she tried other devices for staying and appeasing him. +She begged him now, seeing Boyne so forlorn, and hanging about the hotel +alone, or moping over those ridiculous books of his, to go off with the +boy somewhere and see the interesting places within such easy reach, +like Leyden and Delft if he cared nothing for the place where William +the Silent was shot, he ought to see the place that the Pilgrims started +from. She had counted upon doing those places herself, with her husband, +and it was in a sacrifice of her ideal that she now urged him to go +with Boyne. But her preoccupation with Ellen’s affair forbade her +self-abandon to those high historical interests to which she urged his +devotion. She might have gone with him and Boyne, but then she must have +left the larger half of her divided mind with Ellen, not to speak of +Lottie, who refused to be a party to any such excursion. Mrs. Kenton +felt the disappointment and grieved at it, but not without hope of +repairing it later, and she did not cease from entreating the judge to +do what he could at once towards fulfilling the desires she postponed. +Once she prevailed with him, and really got him and Boyne off for a +day, but they came back early, with signs of having bored each other +intolerably, and after that it was Boyne, as much as his father, who +relucted from joint expeditions. Boyne did not so much object to going +alone, and his father said it was best to let him, though his mother +had her fears for her youngest. He spent a good deal of his time on the +trams between Scheveningen and The Hague, and he was understood to have +explored the capital pretty thoroughly. In fact, he did go about with a +valet de place, whom he got at a cheap rate, and with whom he conversed +upon the state of the country and its political affairs. The valet said +that the only enemy that Holland could fear was Germany, but an invasion +from that quarter could be easily repulsed by cutting the dikes and +drowning the invaders. The sea, he taught Boyne, was the great defence +of Holland, and it was a waste of money to keep such an army as the +Dutch had; but neither the sea nor the sword could drive out the Germans +if once they insidiously married a Prussian prince to the Dutch Queen. + +There seemed to be no getting away from the Queen, for Boyne. The valet +not only talked about her, as the pleasantest subject which he could +find, but he insisted upon showing Boyne all her palaces. He took +him into the Parliament house, and showed him where she sat while the +queen-mother read the address from the throne. He introduced him at a +bazar where the shop-girl who spoke English better than Boyne, or at +least without the central Ohio accent, wanted to sell him a miniature of +the Queen on porcelain. She said the Queen was such a nice girl, and she +was herself such a nice girl that Boyne blushed a little in looking at +her. He bought the miniature, and then he did not know what to do with +it; if any of the family, if Lottie, found out that he had it, or that +Trannel, he should have no peace any more. He put it in his pocket, +provisionally, and when he came giddily out of the shop he felt himself +taken by the elbow and placed against the wall by the valet, who said +the queens were coming. They drove down slowly through the crowded, +narrow street, bowing right and left to the people flattened against the +shops, and again Boyne saw her so near that he could have reached out +his hand and almost touched hers. + +The consciousness of this was so strong in him that he wondered whether +he had not tried to do so. If he had he would have been arrested--he +knew that; and so he knew that he had not done it. He knew that he +imagined doing so because it would be so awful to have done it, and he +imagined being in love with her because it would be so frantic. At +the same time he dramatized an event in which he died for her, and +she became aware of his hopeless passion at the last moment, while the +anarchist from whom he had saved her confessed that the bomb had been +meant for her. Perhaps it was a pistol. + +He escaped from the valet as soon as he could, and went back to +Scheveningen limp from this experience, but the queens were before +him. They had driven down to visit the studio of a famous Dutch painter +there, and again the doom was on Boyne to press forward with the +other spectators and wait for the queens to appear and get into their +carriage. The young Queen’s looks were stamped in Boyne’s consciousness, +so that he saw her wherever he turned, like the sun when one has gazed +at it. He thought how that Trannel had said he ought to hand her into +her carriage, and he shrank away for fear he should try to do so, but he +could not leave the place till she had come out with the queen--mother +and driven off. Then he went slowly and breathlessly into the hotel, +feeling the Queen’s miniature in his pocket. It made his heart stand +still, and then bound forward. He wondered again what he should do with +it. If he kept it, Lottie would be sure to find it, and he could not +bring himself to the sacrilege of destroying it. He thought he would +walk out on the breakwater as far as he could and throw it into the sea, +but when he got to the end of the mole he could not do so. He decided +that he would give it to Ellen to keep for him, and not let Lottie see +it; or perhaps he might pretend he had bought it for her. He could not +do that, though, for it would not be true, and if he did he could not +ask her to keep it from Lottie. + +At dinner Mr. Trannel told him he ought to have been there to see the +Queen; that she had asked especially for him, and wanted to know if they +had not sent up her card to him. Boyne meditated an apt answer through +all the courses, but he had not thought of one when they had come to +the ‘corbeille de fruits’, and he was forced to go to bed without having +avenged himself. + +In taking rooms for her family at the hotel, Lottie had arranged for her +emancipation from the thraldom of rooming with Ellen. She said that had +gone on long enough; if she was grown up at all, she was grown up enough +to have a room of her own, and her mother had yielded to reasoning which +began and ended with this position. She would have interfered so far as +to put Lottie into the room next her, but Lottie said that if Boyne was +the baby he ought to be next his mother; Ellen might come next him, but +she was going to have the room that was furthest from any implication +of the dependence in which she had languished; and her mother submitted +again. Boyne was not sorry; there had always been hours of the night +when he felt the need of getting at his mother for reassurance as to +forebodings which his fancy conjured up to trouble him in the wakeful +dark. It was understood that he might freely do this, and though the +judge inwardly fretted, he could not deny the boy the comfort of his +mother’s encouraging love. Boyne’s visits woke him, but he slept the +better for indulging in the young nerves that tremor from impressions +against which the old nerves are proof. But now, in the strange fatality +which seemed to involve him, Boyne could not go to his mother. It was +too weirdly intimate, even for her; besides, when he had already tried +to seek her counsel she had ignorantly repelled him. + +The night after his day in The Hague, when he could bear it no longer, +he put on his dressing-gown and softly opened Ellen’s door, “awake, +Ellen?” he whispered. + +“Yes, What is it, Boyne” her gentle voice asked. + +“He came and sat down by her bed and stole his hand into hers, which she +put out to him. The watery moonlight dripped into the room at the edges +of the shades, and the long wash of the sea made itself regularly heard +on the sands. + +“Can’t you sleep?” Ellen asked again. “Are you homesick?” + +“Not exactly that. But it does seem rather strange for us to be off here +so far, doesn’t it?” + +“Yes, I don’t see how I can forgive myself for making you come,” said +Ellen, but her voice did not sound as if she were very unhappy. + +“You couldn’t help it,” said Boyne, and the words suggested a question +to him. “Do you believe that such things are ordered, Ellen?” + +“Everything is ordered, isn’t it?” + +“I suppose so. And if they are, we’re not, to blame for what happens.” + +“Not if we try to do right.” + +“Of course. The Kentons always do that,” said Boyne, with the faith in +his family that did not fail him in the darkest hour. “But what I mean +is that if anything comes on you that you can’t foresee and you can’t +get out of--” The next step was not clear, and Boyne paused. He asked, + +“Do you think that we can control our feelings, Ellen?” + +“About what?” + +“Well, about persons that we like.” He added, for safety, “Or dislike.” + +“I’m afraid not,” said Ellen, sadly, “We ought to like persons and +dislike them for some good reason, but we don’t.” + +“Yes, that’s what I mean,” said Borne, with a long breath. “Sometimes it +seems like a kind of possession, doesn’t it?” + +“It seems more like that when we like them,” Ellen said. + +“Yes, that’s what I mean. If a person was to take a fancy to some one +that was above him, that was richer, or older, he wouldn’t be to blame +for it, would he?” + +“Was that what you wanted to ask me about?” + +Borne hesitated. “Yes” he said. He was in for it now. + +Ellen had not noticed Boyne’s absorption with Miss Rasmith on the ship, +but she vaguely remembered hearing Lottie tease him about her, and she +said now, “He wouldn’t be to blame for it if he couldn’t help it, but if +the person was much older it would be a pity!” + +“Uh, she isn’t so very much older,” said Borne, more cheerfully than he +had spoken before. + +“Is it somebody that you have taken a fancy to Borne?” + +“I don’t know, Ellen. That’s what makes it so kind of awful. I can’t +tell whether it’s a real fancy, or I only think it is. Sometimes I think +it is, and sometimes I think that I think so because I am afraid to +believe it. Do you under Ellen?” + +“It seems to me that I do. But you oughtn’t to let your fancy run away +with you, Boyne. What a queer boy!” + +“It’s a kind of fascination, I suppose. But whether it’s a real fancy or +an unreal one, I can’t get away from it.” + +“Poor boy!” said his sister. + +“Perhaps it’s those books. Sometimes I think it is, and I laugh at the +whole idea; and then again it’s so strong that I can’t get away from it. +Ellen!” + +“Well, Boyne?” + +“I could tell you who it is, if you think that would do any good--if you +think it would help me to see it in the true light, or you could help me +more by knowing who it is than you can now.” + +“I hope it isn’t anybody that you can’t respect, Boyne?” + +“No, indeed! It’s somebody you would never dream of.” + +“Well?” Ellen was waiting for him to speak, but he could not get the +words out, even to her. + +“I guess I’ll tell you some other time. Maybe I can get over it myself.” + +“It would be the best way if you could.” + +He rose and left her bedside, and then he came back. “Ellen, I’ve got +something that I wish you would keep for me.” + +“What is it? Of course I will.” + +“Well, it’s--something I don’t want you to let Lottie know I’ve got. She +tells that Mr. Trannel everything, and then he wants to make fun. Do you +think he’s so very witty?” + +“I can’t help laughing at some things he says.” + +“I suppose he is,” Boyne ruefully admitted. “But that doesn’t make you +like him any better. Well, if you won’t tell Lottie, I’ll give it to you +now.” + +“I won’t tell anything that you don’t want me to, Boyne.” + +“It’s nothing. It’s just-a picture of the Queen on porcelain, that I got +in The Hague. The guide took me into the store, and I thought I ought to +get something.” + +“Oh, that’s very nice, Boyne. I do like the Queen so much. She’s so +sweet!” + +“Yes, isn’t she?” said Boyne, glad of Ellen’s approval. So far, at +least, he was not wrong. “Here it is now.” + +He put the miniature in Ellen’s hand. She lifted herself on her elbow. +“Light the candle and let me see it.” + +“No, no!” he entreated. “It might wake Lottie, and--and--Good-night, +Ellen.” + +“Can you go to sleep now, Boyne?” + +“Oh yes. I’m all right. Good-night.” + +“Good-night, then.” + +Borne stooped over and kissed her, and went to the door. He came back +and asked, “You don’t think it was silly, or anything, for me to get +it?” + +“No, indeed! It’s just what you will like to have when you get home. +We’ve all seen her so often. I’ll put it in my trunk, and nobody shall +know about it till we’re safely back in Tuskingum.” + +Boyne sighed deeply. “Yes, that’s what I meant. Good-night.” + +“Good-night, Boyne.” + +“I hope I haven’t waked you up too much?” + +“Oh no. I can get to sleep easily again.” + +“Well, good-night.” Boyne sighed again, but not so deeply, and this time +he went out. + + + + +XXII. + +Mrs. Kenton woke with the clear vision which is sometimes vouchsafed to +people whose eyes are holden at other hours of the day. She had heard +Boyne opening and shutting Ellen’s door, and her heart smote her that +he should have gone to his sister with whatever trouble he was in rather +than come to his mother. It was natural that she should put the blame +on her husband, and “Now, Mr. Kenton,” she began, with an austerity of +voice which he recognized before he was well awake, “if you won’t take +Boyne off somewhere to-day, I will. I think we had better all go. We +have been here a whole fortnight, and we have got thoroughly rested, and +there is no excuse for our wasting our time any longer. If we are going +to see Holland, we had better begin doing it.” + +The judge gave a general assent, and said that if she wanted to go +to Flushing he supposed he could find some garden-seeds there, in the +flower and vegetable nurseries, which would be adapted to the climate of +Tuskingum, and they could all put in the day pleasantly, looking round +the place. Whether it was the suggestion of Tuskingum in relation to +Flushing that decided her against the place, or whether she had really +meant to go to Leyden, she now expressed the wish, as vividly as if it +were novel, to explore the scene of the Pilgrims’ sojourn before they +sailed for Plymouth, and she reproached him for not caring about the +place when they both used to take such an interest in it at home. + +“Well,” said the judge, “if I were at home I should take an interest in +it here.” + +This provoked her to a silence which he thought it best to break in +tacit compliance with her wish, and he asked, “Do you propose taking the +whole family and the appurtenances? We shall be rather a large party.” + +“Ellen would wish to go, and I suppose Mr. Breckon. We couldn’t very +well go without them.” + +“And how about Lottie and that young Trannel?” + +“We can’t leave him out, very well. I wish we could. I don’t like him.” + +“There’s nothing easier than not asking him, if you don’t want him.” + +“Yes, there is, when you’ve got a girl like Lottie to deal with. Quite +likely she would ask him herself. We must take him because we can’t +leave her.” + +“Yes, I reckon,” the judge acquiesced. + +“I’m glad,” Mrs. Kenton said, after a moment, “that it isn’t Ellen he’s +after; it almost reconciles me to his being with Lottie so much. I only +wonder he doesn’t take to Ellen, he’s so much like that--” + +She did not say out what was in her mind, but her husband knew. “Yes, +I’ve noticed it. This young Breckon was quite enough so, for my taste. I +don’t know what it is that just saves him from it.” + +“He’s good. You could tell that from the beginning.” + +They went off upon the situation that, superficially or subliminally, +was always interesting them beyond anything in the world, and they did +not openly recur to Mrs. Kenton’s plan for the day till they met their +children at breakfast. It was a meal at which Breckon and Trammel were +both apt to join them, where they took it at two of the tables on the +broad, seaward piazza of the hotel when the weather was fine. Both +the young men now applauded her plan, in their different sorts. It was +easily arranged that they should go by train and not by tram from The +Hague. The train was chosen, and Mrs. Kenton, when she went to her +room to begin the preparations for a day’s pleasure which constitute so +distinctly a part of its pain, imagined that everything was settled. She +had scarcely closed the door behind her when Lottie opened it and shut +it again behind her. + +“Mother,” she said, in the new style of address to which she was +habituating Mrs. Kenton, after having so long called her momma, “I am +not going with you.” + +“Indeed you are, then!” her mother retorted. “Do you think I would leave +you here all day with that fellow? A nice talk we should make!” + +“You are perfectly welcome to that fellow, mother, and as he’s accepted +he will have to go with you, and there won’t be any talk. But, as I +remarked before, I am not going.” + +“Why aren’t you going, I should like to know?” + +“Because I don’t like the company.” + +“What do you mean? Have you got anything against Mr. Breckon?” + +“He’s insipid, but as long as Ellen don’t mind it I don’t care. I object +to Mr. Trannel!” + +“Why?” + +“I don’t see why I should have to tell you. If I said I liked him you +might want to know, but it seems to me that my not liking him is--my +not liking him is my own affair.” There was a kind of logic in this that +silenced Mrs. Kenton for the moment. In view of her advantage Lottie +relented so far as to add, “I’ve found out something about him.” + +Mrs. Kenton was imperative in her alarm. “What is it?” she demanded. + +Lottie answered, obliquely: “Well, I didn’t leave The Hague to get rid +of them, and then take up with one of them at Scheveningen.” + +“One of what?” + +“COOK’S TOURISTS, if you must know, mother. Mr. Trannel, as you call +him, is a Cook’s tourist, and that’s the end of it. I have got no use +for him from this out.” + +Mrs. Kenton was daunted, and not for the first time, by her daughter’s +superior knowledge of life. She could put Boyne down sometimes, though +not always, when he attempted to impose a novel code of manners or +morals upon her, but she could not cope with Lottie. In the present case +she could only ask, “Well?” + +“Well, they’re the cheapest of the cheap. He actually showed me his +coupons, and tried to put me down with the idea that everybody used +them. But I guess he found it wouldn’t work. He said if you were not +personally conducted it was all right.” + +“Now, Lottie, you have got to tell me just what you mean,” said Mrs. +Kenton, and from having stood during this parley, she sat down to hear +Lottie out at her leisure. But if there was anything more difficult than +for Lottie to be explicit it was to make her be so, and in the end +Mrs. Kenton was scarcely wiser than she was at the beginning to her +daughter’s reasons. It appeared that if you wanted to be cheap you could +travel with those coupons, and Lottie did not wish to be cheap, or have +anything to do with those who were. The Kentons had always held up their +heads, and if Ellen had chosen to disgrace them with Bittridge, Dick had +made it all right, and she at least was not going to do anything that +she would be ashamed of. She was going to stay at home, and have her +meals in her room till they got back. + +Her mother paid no heed to her repeated declaration. “Lottie,” she +asked, with the heart-quake that the thought of Richard’s act always +gave her with reference to Ellen, “have you ever let out the least hint +of that?” + +“Of course I haven’t,” Lottie scornfully retorted. “I hope I know what a +crank Ellen is.” + +They were not just the terms in which Mrs. Kenton would have chosen to +be reassured, but she was glad to be assured in any terms. She said, +vaguely: “I believe in my heart that I will stay at home, too. All this +has given me a bad headache.” + +“I was going to have a headache myself,” said Lottie, with injury. “But +I suppose I can get on along without. I can just simply say I’m not +going. If he proposes to stay, too, I can soon settle that.” + +“The great difficulty will be to get your father to go.” + +“You can make Ellen make him,” Lottie suggested. + +“That is true,” said Mrs. Kenton, with such increasing absence that her +daughter required of her: + +“Are you staying on my account?” + +“I think you had better not be left alone the whole day. But I am not +staying on your account. I don’t believe we had so many of us better go. +It might look a little pointed.” + +Lottie laughed harshly. “I guess Mr. Breckon wouldn’t see the point, +he’s so perfectly gone.” + +“Do you really believe it, Lottie?” Mrs. Kenton entreated, with a sudden +tenderness for her younger daughter such as she did not always feel. + +“I should think anybody would believe it--anybody but Ellen.” + +“Yes,” Mrs. Kenton dreamily assented. + +Lottie made her way to the door. “Well, if you do stay, mother, I’m not +going to have you hanging round me all day. I can chaperon myself.” + +“Lottie,” her mother tried to stay her, “I wish you would go. I don’t +believe that Mr. Trannel will be much of an addition. He will be on your +poor father’s hands all day, or else Ellen’s, and if you went you could +help off.” + +“Thank you, mother. I’ve had quite all I want of Mr. Trannel. You can +tell him he needn’t go, if you want to.” + +Lottie at least did not leave her mother to make her excuses to the +party when they met for starting. Mrs. Kenton had deferred her own +till she thought it was too late for her husband to retreat, and then +bunglingly made them, with so much iteration that it seemed to her it +would have been far less pointed, as concerned Mr. Breckon, if she +had gone. Lottie sunnily announced that she was going to stay with +her mother, and did not even try to account for her defection to Mr. +Trannel. + +“What’s the matter with my staying, too?” he asked. “It seems to me +there are four wheels to this coach now.” + +He had addressed his misgiving more to Lottie than the rest; but with +the same sunny indifference to the consequence for others that she had +put on in stating her decision, she now discharged herself from further +responsibility by turning on her heel and leaving it with the party +generally. In the circumstances Mr. Trannel had no choice but to go, and +he was supported, possibly, by the hope of taking it out of Lottie some +other time. + +It was more difficult for Mrs. Kenton to get rid of the judge, but an +inscrutable frown goes far in such exigencies. It seems to explain, and +it certainly warns, and the husband on whom it is bent never knows, even +after the longest experience, whether he had better inquire further. +Usually he decides that he had better not, and Judge Kenton went off +towards the tram with Boyne in the cloud of mystery which involved them +both as to Mrs. Kenton’s meaning. + + + + +XXIII. + + +Trannel attached himself as well as he could to Breckon and Ellen, +and Breckon had an opportunity not fully offered him before to note +a likeness between himself and a fellow-man whom he was aware of not +liking, though he tried to love him, as he felt it right to love all +men. He thought he had not been quite sympathetic enough with Mrs. +Kenton in her having to stay behind, and he tried to make it up to Mr. +Trannel in his having to come. He invented civilities to show him, and +ceded his place next Ellen as if Trannel had a right to it. Trannel +ignored him in keeping it, unless it was recognizing Breckon to say, +“Oh, I hope I’m not in your way, old fellow?” and then making jokes to +Ellen. Breckon could not say the jokes were bad, though the taste +of them seemed to him so. The man had a fleeting wit, which scorched +whatever he turned it upon, and yet it was wit. “Why don’t you try him +in American?” he asked at the failure of Breckon and the tram conductor +to understand each other in Dutch. He tried the conductor himself in +American, and he was so deplorably funny that it was hard for Breckon to +help being ‘particeps criminus’, at least in a laugh. + +He asked himself if that were really the kind of man he was, and he grew +silent and melancholy in the fear that it was a good deal the sort of +man. To this morbid fancy Trannel seemed himself in a sort of excess, or +what he would be if he were logically ultimated. He remembered all the +triviality of his behavior with Ellen at first, and rather sickened at +the thought of some of his early pleasantries. She was talking gayly +now with Trannel, and Breckon wondered whether she was falling under the +charm that he felt in him, in spite of himself. + +If she was, her father was not. The judge sat on the other side of the +car, and unmistakably glowered at the fellow’s attempts to make himself +amusing to Ellen. Trannel himself was not insensible to the judge’s +mood. Now and then he said something to intensify it. He patronized the +judge and he made fun of the tourist character in which Boyne had got +himself up, with a field-glass slung by a strap under one arm and a +red Baedeker in his hand. He sputtered with malign laughter at a rather +gorgeous necktie which Boyne had put on for the day, and said it was not +a very good match for the Baedeker. + +Boyne retorted rudely, and that amused Trannel still more. He became +personal to Breckon, and noted the unclerical cut of his clothes. He +said he ought to have put on his uniform for an expedition like that, +in case they got into any sort of trouble. To Ellen alone he was +inoffensive, unless he overdid his polite attentions to her in carrying +her parasol for her, and helping her out of the tram, when they arrived, +shouldering every one else away, and making haste to separate her from +the others and then to walk on with her a little in advance. + +Suddenly he dropped her, and fell back to Boyne and his father, while +Breckon hastened forward to her side. Trannel put his arm across Boyne’s +shoulders and asked him if he were mad, and then laughed at him. “You’re +all right, Boyne, but you oughtn’t to be so approachable. You ought to +put on more dignity, and repel familiarity!” + +Boyne could only twitch away in silence that he made as haughty as he +could, but not so haughty that Trannel did not find it laughable, and he +laughed in a teasing way that made Breckon more and more serious. He +was aware of becoming even solemn with the question of his likeness to +Trannel. He was of Trannel’s quality, and their difference was a matter +of quantity, and there was not enough difference. In his sense of their +likeness Breckon vowed himself to a gravity of behavior evermore +which he should not probably be able to observe, but the sample he now +displayed did not escape the keen vigilance of Trannel. + +“With the exception of Miss Kenton,” he addressed himself to the party, +“you’re all so easy and careless that if you don’t look out you’ll lose +me. Miss Kenton, I wish you would keep an eye on me. I don’t want to get +lost.” + +Ellen laughed--she could not help it--and her laughing made it less +possible than before for Breckon to unbend and meet Trannel on his own +ground, to give him joke for joke, to exchange banter with him. He might +never have been willing to do that, but now he shrank from it, in his +realization of their likeness, with an abhorrence that rendered him +rigid. + +The judge was walking ahead with Boyne, and his back expressed such +severe disapproval that, between her fear that Trannel would say +something to bring her father’s condemnation on him and her sense of +their inhospitable attitude towards one who was their guest, in a sort, +she said, with her gentle gayety, “Then you must keep near me, Mr. +Trannel. I’ll see that nothing happens.” + +“That’s very sweet of you,” said Trannel, soberly. Whether he had now +vented his malicious humor and was ready to make himself agreeable, or +was somewhat quelled by the unfriendly ambient he had created, or was +wrought upon by her friendliness, he became everything that could be +wished in a companion for a day’s pleasure. He took the lead at the +station, and got them a compartment in the car to themselves for the +little run to Leyden, and on the way he talked very well. He politely +borrowed Boyne’s Baedeker, and decided for the party what they had +best see, and showed an acceptable intelligence, as well as a large +experience in the claims of Leyden upon the visitor’s interest. He had +been there often before, it seemed, and in the event it appeared that he +had chosen the days sightseeing wisely. + +He no longer addressed himself respectfully to Ellen alone, but he +re-established himself in Boyne’s confidence with especial pains, and he +conciliated Breckon by a recognition of his priority with Ellen with a +delicacy refined enough for even the susceptibility of a lover alarmed +for his rights. If he could not overcome the reluctance of the judge, he +brought him to the civil response which any one who tried for Kenton’s +liking achieved, even if he did not merit it, and there remained no more +reserve in Kenton’s manner than there had been with the young man from +the first. He had never been a persona grata to the judge, and if he did +not become so now, he at least ceased to be actively displeasing. + +That was the year before the young Queen came to her own, and in the +last days of her minority she was visiting all the cities of her future +dominion with the queen-mother. When Kenton’s party left the station +they found Leyden as gay for her reception as flags and banners could +make the gray old town, and Trannel relapsed for a moment so far as to +suggest that the decorations were in honor of Boyne’s presence, but he +did not abuse the laugh that this made to Boyne’s further shame. + +There was no carriage at the station which would hold the party of five, +and they had to take two vehicles. Trannel said it was lucky they wanted +two, since there were no more, and he put himself in authority to assort +the party. The judge, he decided, must go with Ellen and Breckon, and he +hoped Boyne would let him go in his carriage, if he would sit on the box +with the driver. The judge afterwards owned that he had weakly indulged +his dislike of the fellow, in letting him take Boyne, and not insisting +on going himself with Tramiel, but this was when it was long too +late. Ellen had her misgivings, but, except for that gibe about the +decorations, Trannel had been behaving so well that she hoped she might +trust Boyne with him. She made a kind of appeal for her brother, bidding +him and Trannel take good care of each other, and Trannel promised so +earnestly to look after Boyne that she ought to have been alarmed for +him. He took the lead, rising at times to wave a reassuring hand to her +over the back of his carriage, and, in fact, nothing evil could very +well happen from him, with the others following so close upon him. They +met from time to time in the churches they visited, and when they lost +sight of one another, through a difference of opinion in the drivers as +to the best route, they came together at the place Trannel had appointed +for their next reunion. + +He showed himself a guide so admirably qualified that he found a way +for them to objects of interest that had at first denied themselves in +anticipation of the visit from the queens; when they all sat down at +lunch in the restaurant which he found for them, he could justifiably +boast that he would get them into the Town Hall, which they had been +told was barred for the day against anything but sovereign curiosity. +He was now on the best term with Boyne, who seemed to have lost all +diffidence of him, and treated him with an easy familiarity that showed +itself in his slapping him on the shoulder and making dints in his hat. +Trannel seemed to enjoy these caresses, and, when they parted again for +the afternoon’s sight-seeing, Ellen had no longer a qualm in letting +Boyne drive off with him. + +He had, in fact, known how to make himself very acceptable to Boyne. He +knew all the originals of his heroical romances, and was able to give +the real names and the geographical position of those princesses who +had been in love with American adventurers. Under promise of secrecy he +disclosed the real names of the adventurers themselves, now obscured in +the titles given them to render them worthy their union with sovereigns. +He resumed his fascinating confidences when they drove off after +luncheon, and he resumed them after each separation from the rest of the +party. Boyne listened with a flushed face and starting eyes, and when at +last Trannel offered, upon a pledge of the most sacred nature from him +never to reveal a word of what he said, he began to relate an adventure +of which he was himself the hero. It was a bold travesty of one of the +latest romances that Boyne had read, involving the experience of an +American very little older than Boyne himself, to whom a wilful young +crown-princess, in a little state which Trannel would not name even to +Boyne, had made advances such as he could not refuse to meet without +cruelty. He was himself deeply in love with her, but he felt bound in +honor not to encourage her infatuation as long as he could help, for he +had been received by her whole family with such kindness and confidence +that he had to consider them. + +“Oh, pshaw!” Boyne broke in upon him, doubting, and yet wishing not to +doubt, “that’s the same as the story of ‘Hector Folleyne’.” + +“Yes,” said Trannel, quietly. “I thought you would recognize it.” + +“Well, but,” Boyne went on, “Hector married the princess!” + +“In the book, yes. The fellow I gave the story to said it would never +do not to have him marry her, and it would help to disguise the fact. +That’s what he said, after he had given the whole thing away.” + +“And do you mean to say it was you? Oh, you can’t stuff me! How did you +get out of marrying her, I should like to know, when the chancellor came +to you and said that the whole family wanted you to, for fear it would +kill her if--” + +“Well, there was a scene, I can’t deny that. We had a regular family +conclave--father, mother, Aunt Hitty, and all the folks--and we kept it +up pretty much all night. The princess wasn’t there, of course, and I +could convince them that I was right. If she had been, I don’t believe +I could have held out. But they had to listen to reason, and I got away +between two days.” + +“But why didn’t you marry her?” + +“Well, for one thing, as I told you, I thought I ought to consider +her family. Then there was a good fellow, the crown-prince of +Saxe-Wolfenhutten, who was dead in love with her, and was engaged to her +before I turned up. I had been at school with him, and I felt awfully +sorry for him; and I thought I ought to sacrifice myself a little to +him. But I suppose the thing that influenced me most was finding out +that if I married the princess I should have to give up my American +citizenship and become her subject.” + +“Well?” Boyne panted. + +“Well, would you have done it?” + +“Couldn’t you have got along without doing that?” + +“That was the only thing I couldn’t get around, somehow. So I left.” + +“And the princess, did she--die?” + +“It takes a good deal more than that to kill a fifteen-year-old +princess,” said Trannel, and he gave a harsh laugh. “She married +Saxe-Wolfenhutten.” Boyne was silent. “Now, I don’t want you to speak +of this till after I leave Scheveningen--especially to Miss Lottie. You +know how girls are, and I think Miss Lottie is waiting to get a bind +on me, anyway. If she heard how I was cut out of my chance with that +princess she’d never let me believe I gave her up of my own free will?” + +“NO, no; I won’t tell her.” + +Boyne remained in a silent rapture, and he did not notice they were no +longer following the rest of their party in the other carriage. This had +turned down a corner, at which Mr. Breckon, sitting on the front seat, +had risen and beckoned their driver to follow, but their driver, who +appeared afterwards to have not too much a head of his own, or no head +at all, had continued straight on, in the rear of a tram-car, which was +slowly finding its way through the momently thickening crowd. Boyne was +first aware that it was a humorous crowd when, at a turn of the street, +their equipage was greeted with ironical cheers by a group of gay young +Dutchmen on the sidewalk. Then he saw that the sidewalks were packed +with people, who spread into the street almost to the tram, and that the +house fronts were dotted with smiling Dutch faces, the faces of pretty +Dutch girls, who seemed to share the amusement of the young fellows +below. + +Trannel lay back in the carriage. “This is something like,” he said. +“Boyne, they’re on to the distinguished young Ohioan--the only Ohioan +out of office in Europe.” + +“Yes,” said Boyne, trying to enjoy it. “I wonder what they are holloing +at.” + +Trannel laughed. “They’re holloing at your Baedeker, my dear boy. They +never saw one before,” and Boyne was aware that he was holding his +red-backed guide conspicuously in view on his lap. “They know you’re a +foreigner by it.” + +“Don’t you think we ought to turn down somewhere? I don’t see poppa +anywhere.” He rose and looked anxiously back over the top of their +carriage. The crowd, closing in behind it, hailed his troubled face with +cries that were taken up by the throng on the sidewalks. Boyne turned +about to find that the tram-car which they had been following had +disappeared round a corner, but their driver was still keeping on. At +a wilder burst of applause Trannel took off his hat and bowed to the +crowd, right and left. + +“Bow, bow!” he said to Boyne. “They’ll be calling for a speech the next +thing. Bow, I tell you!” + +“Tell him to turn round!” cried the boy. + +“I can’t speak Dutch,” said Trannel, and Boyne leaned forward and poked +the driver in the back. + +“Go back!” he commanded. + +The driver shook his head and pointed forward with his whip. “He’s all +right,” said Trannel. “He can’t turn now. We’ve got to take the next +corner.” The street in front was empty, and the people were crowding +back on the sidewalks. Loud, vague noises made themselves heard round +the corner to which the driver had pointed. “By Jove!” Trannel said, “I +believe they’re coming round that way.” + +“Who are coming?” Boyne palpitated. + +“The queens.” + +“The queens?” Boyne gasped; it seemed to him that he shrieked the words. + +“Yes. And there’s a tobacconist’s now,” said Trannel, as if that were +what he had been looking for all along. “I want some cigarettes.” + +He leaped lightly from the carriage, and pushed his way out of sight on +the sidewalk. Boyne remained alone in the vehicle, staring wildly round; +the driver kept slowly and stupidly on, Boyne did not know how much +farther. He could not speak; he felt as if he could not stir. But the +moment came when he could not be still. He gave a galvanic jump to the +ground, and the friendly crowd on the sidewalk welcomed him to its ranks +and closed about him. The driver had taken the lefthand corner, just +before a plain carriage with the Queen and the queen-mother came in +sight round the right. The young Queen was bowing to the people, gently, +and with a sort of mechanical regularity. Now and then a brighter +smile than that she conventionally wore lighted up her face. The simple +progress was absolutely without state, except for the aide-de-camp on +horseback who rode beside the carriage, a little to the front. + +Boyne stood motionless on the curb, where a friendly tall Dutchman had +placed him in front that he might see the Queen. + +“Hello!” said the voice of Trannel, and elbowing his way to Boyne’s +side, he laughed and coughed through the smoke of his cigarette. “I was +afraid you had lost me. Where’s your carriage?” + +Boyne did not notice his mockeries. He was entranced in that beatific +vision; his boy-heart went out in worship to the pretty young creature +with a reverence that could not be uttered. The tears came into his +eyes. + +“There, there! She’s bowing to you, Boyne, she’s smiling right at you. +By Jove! She’s beckoning to you!” + +“You be still!” Boyne retorted, finding his tongue. “She isn’t doing any +such a thing.” + +“She is, I swear she is! She’s doing it again! She’s stopping the +carriage. Oh, go out and see what she wants! Don’t you know that a +queen’s wish is a command? You’ve got to go!” + +Boyne never could tell just how it happened. The carriage did seem to be +stopping, and the Queen seemed to be looking at him. He thought he +must, and he started into the street towards her, and the carriage came +abreast of him. He had almost reached the carriage when the aide turned +and spurred his horse before him. Four strong hands that were like iron +clamps were laid one on each of Boyne’s elbows and shoulders, and he was +haled away, as if by superhuman force. “Mr. Trannel!” he called out in +his agony, but the wretch had disappeared, and Boyne was left with his +captors, to whom he could have said nothing if he could have thought of +anything to say. + +The detectives pulled him through the crowd and hurried him swiftly down +the side street. A little curiosity straggled after him in the shape +of small Dutch boys, too short to look over the shoulders of men at the +queens, and too weak to make their way through them to the front; but +for them, Boyne seemed alone in the world with the relentless officers, +who were dragging him forward and hurting him so with the grip of their +iron hands. He lifted up his face to entreat them not to hold him so +tight, and suddenly it was as if he beheld an angel standing in his +path. It was Breckon who was there, staring at him aghast. + +“Why, Boyne!” he cried. + +“Oh, Mr. Breckon!” Boyne wailed back. “Is it you? Oh, do tell them I +didn’t mean to do anything! I thought she beckoned to me.” + +“Who? Who beckoned to you?” + +“The Queen!” Boyne sobbed, while the detectives pulled him relentlessly +on. + +Breckon addressed them suavely in their owe tongue which had never come +in more deferential politeness from human lips. He ventured the belief +that there was a mistake; he assured them that he knew their prisoner, +and that he was the son of a most respectable American family, whom they +could find at the Kurhaus in Scheveningen. He added some irrelevancies, +and got for all answer that they had made Boyne’s arrest for sufficient +reasons, and were taking him to prison. If his friends wished to +intervene in his behalf they could do so before the magistrate, but for +the present they must admonish Mr. Breckon not to put himself in the way +of the law. + +“Don’t go, Mr. Breckon!” Boyne implored him, as his captors made him +quicken his pace after slowing a little for their colloquy with Breckon. +“Oh, where is poppa? He could get me away. Oh, where is poppa?” + +“Don’t! Don’t call out, Boyne,” Breckon entreated. “Your father is right +here at the end of the street. He’s in the carriage there with Miss +Kenton. I was coming to look for you. Don’t cry out so!” + +“No, no, I won’t, Mr. Breckon. I’ll be perfectly quiet now. Only do get +poppa quick! He can tell them in a minute that it’s all right!” + +He made a prodigious effort to control himself, while Breckon ran +a little ahead, with some wild notion of preparing Ellen. As he +disappeared at the corner, Boyne choked a sob into a muffed bellow, and +was able to meet the astonished eyes of his father and sister in this +degree of triumph. + +They had not in the least understood Breckon’s explanation, and, in +fact, it had not been very lucid. At sight of her brother strenuously +upheld between the detectives, and dragged along the sidewalk, Ellen +sprang from the carriage and ran towards him. “Why, what’s the matter +with Boyne?” she demanded. “Are you hurt, Boyne, dear? Are they taking +him to the hospital?” + +Before he could answer, and quite before the judge could reach the +tragical group, she had flung her arms round Boyne’s neck, and was +kissing his tear-drabbled face, while he lamented back, “They’re taking +me to prison.” + +“Taking you to prison? I should like to know what for! What are you +taking my brother to prison for?” she challenged the detectives, who +paused, bewildered, while all the little Dutch boys round admired this +obstruction of the law, and several Dutch housewives, too old to go +out to see the queens, looked down from their windows. It was wholly +illegal, but the detectives were human. They could snub such a friend of +their prisoner as Breckon, but they could not meet the dovelike ferocity +of Ellen with unkindness. They explained as well as they might, and at a +suggestion which Kenton made through Breckon, they admitted that it was +not beside their duty to take Boyne directly to a magistrate, who could +pass upon his case, and even release him upon proper evidence of his +harmlessness, and sufficient security for any demand that justice might +make for his future appearance. + +“Then,” said the judge, quietly, “tell them that we will go with them. +It will be all right, Boyne. Ellen, you and I will get back into the +carriage, and--” + +“No!” Boyne roared. “Don’t leave me, Nelly!” + +“Indeed, I won’t leave you, Boyne! Mr. Breckon, you get into the +carriage with poppa, and I--” + +“I think I had better go with you, Miss Kenton,” said Breckon, and in a +tender superfluity they both accompanied Boyne on foot, while the judge +remounted to his place in the carriage and kept abreast of them on their +way to the magistrate’s. + + + + +XXIV. + +The magistrate conceived of Boyne’s case with a readiness that gave the +judge a high opinion of his personal and national intelligence. He even +smiled a little, in accepting the explanation which Breckon was able to +make him from Boyne, but he thought his duty to give the boy a fatherly +warning for the future. He remarked to Breckon that it was well for +Boyne that the affair had not happened in Germany, where it would have +been found a much more serious matter, though, indeed, he added, it +had to be seriously regarded anywhere in these times, when the lives +of sovereigns were so much at the mercy of all sorts of madmen and +miscreants. He relaxed a little from his severity in his admonition to +say directly to Boyne that queens, even when they wished to speak with +people, did not beckon them in the public streets. When this speech +translated to Boyne by Breckon, whom the magistrate complimented on the +perfection of his Dutch, Boyne hung his head sheepishly, and could not +be restored to his characteristic dignity again in the magistrate’s +presence. The judge gratefully shook hands with the friendly justice, +and made him a little speech of thanks, which Breckon interpreted, and +then the justice shook hand with the judge, and gracefully accepted the +introduction which he offered him to Ellen. They parted with reciprocal +praises and obeisances, which included even the detectives. The judge +had some question, which he submitted to Breckon, whether he ought not +to offer them something, but Breckon thought not. + +Breckon found it hard to abdicate the sort of authority in which his +knowledge of Dutch had placed him, and when he protested that he had +done nothing but act as interpreter, Ellen said, “Yes, but we couldn’t +have done anything without you,” and this was the view that Mrs. Kenton +took of the matter in the family conclave which took place later in the +evening. Breckon was not allowed to withdraw from it, in spite of many +modest efforts, before she had bashfully expressed her sense of his +service to him, and made Boyne share her thanksgiving. She had her arm +about the boy’s shoulder in giving Breckon her hand, and when Breckon +had got away she pulled Boyne to her in a more peremptory embrace. + +“Now, Boyne,” she said, “I am not going to have any more nonsense. I +want to know why you did it.” + +The judge and Ellen had already conjectured clearly enough, and Boyne +did not fear them. But he looked at his younger sister as he sulkily +answered, “I am not going to tell you before Lottie.” + +“Come in here, then,” said his mother, and she led him into the next +room and closed the door. She quickly returned without him. “Yes,” she +began, “it’s just as I supposed; it was that worthless fellow who +put him up to it. Of course, it began with those fool books he’s been +reading, and the notions that Miss Rasmith put into his head. But he +never would have done anything if it hadn’t been for Mr. Trannel.” + +Lottie had listened in silent scorn to the whole proceedings up to this +point, and had refused a part in the general recognition of Breckon as +a special providence. Now she flashed out with a terrible volubility: +“What did I tell you? What else could you expect of a Cook’s tourist? +And mom--mother wanted to make me go with you, after I told her what +he was! Well, if I had have gone, I’ll bet I could have kept him from +playing his tricks. I’ll bet he wouldn’t have taken any liberties, +with me along. I’ll bet if he had, it wouldn’t have been Boyne that +got arrested. I’ll bet he wouldn’t have got off so easily with the +magistrate, either! But I suppose you’ll all let him come bowing and +smiling round in the morning, like butter wouldn’t melt in your mouths. +That seems to be the Kenton way. Anybody can pull our noses, or get us +arrested that wants to, and we never squeak.” She went on a long time +to this purpose, Mrs. Kenton listening with an air almost of conviction, +and Ellen patiently bearing it as a right that Lottie had in a matter +where she had been otherwise ignored. + +The judge broke out, not upon Lottie, but upon his wife. “Good heavens, +Sarah, can’t you make the child hush?” + +Lottie answered for her mother, with a crash of nerves and a gush of +furious tears: “Oh, I’ve got to hush, I suppose. It’s always the way +when I’m trying to keep up the dignity of the family. I suppose it will +be cabled to America, and by tomorrow it will be all over Tuskingum how +Boyne was made a fool of and got arrested. But I bet there’s one person +in Tuskingum that won’t have any remarks to make, and that’s Bittridge. +Not, as long as Dick’s there he won’t.” + +“Lottie!” cried her mother, and her father started towards her, while +Ellen still sat patiently quiet. + +“Oh, well!” Lottie submitted. “But if Dick was here I know this Trannel +wouldn’t get off so smoothly. Dick would give him a worse cowhiding than +he did Bittridge.” + +Half the last word was lost in the bang of the door which Lottie slammed +behind her, leaving her father and mother to a silence which Ellen did +not offer to break. The judge had no heart to speak, in his dismay, and +it was Mrs. Kenton who took the word. + +“Ellen,” she began, with compassionate gentleness, “we tried to keep it +from you. We knew how you would feel. But now we have got to tell you. +Dick did cowhide him when he got back to Tuskingum. Lottie wrote out to +Dick about it, how Mr. Bittridge had behaved in New York. Your father +and I didn’t approve of it, and Dick didn’t afterwards; but, yes, he did +do it.” + +“I knew it, momma,” said Ellen, sadly. + +“You knew it! How?” + +“That other letter I got when we first came--it was from his mother.” + +“Did she tell--” + +“Yes. It was terrible she seemed to feel so. And I was sorry for her. I +thought I ought to answer it, and I did. I told her I was sorry, too. +I tried not to blame Richard. I don’t believe I did. And I tried not to +blame him. She was feeling badly enough without that.” + +Her father and mother looked at each other; they did not speak, and she +asked, “Do you think I oughtn’t to have written?” + +Her father answered, a little tremulously: “You did right, Ellen. And I +am sure that you did it in just the right way.” + +“I tried to. I thought I wouldn’t worry you about it.” + +She rose, and now her mother thought she was going to say that it put +an end to everything; that she must go back and offer herself as a +sacrifice to the injured Bittridges. Her mind had reverted to that +moment on the steamer when Ellen told her that nothing had reconciled +her to what had happened with Bittridge but the fact that all the wrong +done had been done to themselves; that this freed her. In her despair +she could not forbear asking, “What did you write to her, Ellen?” + +“Nothing. I just said that I was very sorry, and that I knew how she +felt. I don’t remember exactly.” + +She went up and kissed her mother. She seemed rather fatigued than +distressed, and her father asked her. “Are you going to bed, my dear?” + +“Yes, I’m pretty tired, and I should think you would be, too, poppa. +I’ll speak to poor Boyne. Don’t mind Lottie. I suppose she couldn’t +help saying it.” She kissed her father, and slipped quietly into Boyne’s +room, from which they could hear her passing on to her own before they +ventured to say anything to each other in the hopeful bewilderment to +which she had left them. + +“Well?” said the judge. + +“Well?” Mrs. Kenton returned, in a note of exasperation, as if she were +not going to let herself be forced to the initiative. + +“I thought you thought--” + +“I did think that. Now I don’t know what to think. We have got to wait.” + +“I’m willing to wait for Ellen!” + +“She seems,” said Mrs. Kenton, “to have more sense than both the other +children put together, and I was afraid--” + +“She might easily have more sense than Boyne, or Lottie, either.” + +“Well, I don’t know,” Mrs. Kenton began. But she did not go on to resent +the disparagement which she had invited. “What I was afraid of was her +goodness. It was her goodness that got her into the trouble, to begin +with. If she hadn’t been so good, that fellow could never have fooled +her as he did. She was too innocent.” + +The judge could not forbear the humorous view. “Perhaps she’s getting +wickeder, or not so innocent. At any rate, she doesn’t seem to have been +take in by Trannel.” + +“He didn’t pay any attention to her. He was all taken up with Lottie.” + +“Well, that was lucky. Sarah,” said the judge, “do you think he is like +Bittridge?” + +“He’s made me think of him all the time.” + +“It’s curious,” the judge mused. “I have always noticed how our faults +repeat themselves, but I didn’t suppose our fates would always take the +same shape, or something like it.” Mrs. Kenton stared at him. “When this +other one first made up to us on the boat my heart went down. I thought +of Bittridge so.” + +“Mr. Breckon?” + +“Yes, the same lightness; the same sort of trifling--Didn’t you notice +it?” + +“No--yes, I noticed it. But I wasn’t afraid for an instant. I saw that +he was good.” + +“Oh!” + +“What I’m afraid of now is that Ellen doesn’t care anything about him.” + +“He isn’t wicked enough?” + +“I don’t say that. But it would be too much happiness to expect in one +short life.” + +The judge could not deny the reasonableness of her position. He could +only oppose it. “Well, I don’t think we’ve had any more than our share +of happiness lately.” + +No one except Boyne could have made Trannel’s behavior a cause of +quarrel, but the other Kentons made it a cause of coldness which was +quite as effective. In Lottie this took the form of something so active, +so positive, that it was something more than a mere absence of warmth. +Before she came clown to breakfast the next morning she studied a stare +in her mirror, and practised it upon Trannel so successfully when he +came up to speak to her that it must have made him doubt whether he had +ever had her acquaintance. In his doubt he ventured to address her, +and then Lottie turned her back upon him in a manner that was perfectly +convincing. He attempted a smiling ease with Mrs. Kenton and the judge, +but they shared neither his smile nor his ease, and his jocose questions +about the end of yesterday’s adventures, which he had not been privy to, +did not seem to appeal to the American sense of humor in them. Ellen was +not with them, nor Boyne, but Trannel was not asked to take either of +the vacant places at the table, even when Breckon took one of them, +after a decent exchange of civilities with him. He could only saunter +away and leave Mrs. Kenton to a little pang. + +“Tchk!” she made. “I’m sorry for him!” + +“So am I,” said the judge. “But he will get over it--only too soon, I’m +afraid. I don’t believe he’s very sorry for himself.” + +They had not advised with Breckon, and he did not feel authorized to +make any comment. He seemed preoccupied, to Mrs. Kenton’s eye, when she +turned it upon him from Trannel’s discomfited back, lessening in the +perspective, and he answered vaguely to her overture about his night’s +rest. Lottie never made any conversation with Breckon, and she now left +him to himself, with some remnants of the disapproval which she found on +her hands after crushing Trannel. It could not be said that Breckon was +aware of her disapproval, and the judge had no apparent consciousness +of it. He and Breckon tried to make something of each other, but failed, +and it all seemed a very defeating sequel to Mrs. Kenton after the +triumphal glow of the evening before. When Lottie rose, she went with +her, alleging her wish to see if Boyne had eaten his breakfast. She +confessed, to Breckon’s kind inquiry, that Boyne did not seem very well, +and that she had made him take his breakfast in his room, and she did +not think it necessary to own, even to so friendly a witness as Mr. +Breckon, that Boyne was ashamed to come down, and dreaded meeting +Trannel so much that she was giving him time to recover his self-respect +and courage. + + + + +XV. + +As soon as she and Lottie were gone Breckon began, rather more +formidably than he liked, but helplessly so: “Judge Kenton, I should be +glad of a few moments with you on--on an important--on a matter that is +important to me.” + +“Well,” said the judge, cautiously. Whatever was coming, he wished to +guard himself from the mistake that he had once so nearly fallen into, +and that still made him catch his breath to think of. “How can I be of +use to you?” + +“I don’t know that you can be of any use--I don’t know that I ought +to speak to you. But I thought you might perhaps save me from--save my +taking a false step.” + +He looked at Kenton as if he would understand, and Kenton supposed that +he did. He said, “My daughter once mentioned your wish to talk with me.” + +“Your daughter?” Breckon stared at him in stupefaction. + +“Yes; Ellen. She said you wished to consult me about going back to your +charge in New York, when we were on the ship together. But I don’t know +that I’m very competent to give advice in such--” + +“Oh!” Breckon exclaimed, in a tone of immense relief, which did not +continue itself in what he went on to say. “That! I’ve quite made up my +mind to go back.” He stopped, and then he burst out, “I want to speak +with you about her.” The judge sat steady, still resolute not to give +himself away, and the young man scarcely recovered from what had been +a desperate plunge in adding: “I know that it’s usual to speak with +her--with the lady herself first, but--I don’t know! The circumstances +are peculiar. You only know about me what you’ve seen of me, and I would +rather make my mistakes in the order that seems right to me, although it +isn’t just the American way.” + +He smiled rather piteously, and the judge said, rather encouragingly, “I +don’t quite know whether I follow you.” + +Breckon blushed, and sought help in what remained of his coffee. “The +way isn’t easy for me. But it’s this: I ask your leave to ask Miss Ellen +to marry me.” The worst was over now, and looked as if it were a relief. +“She is the most beautiful person in the world to me, and the best; but +as you know so little of me, I thought it right to get your leave--to +tell you--to--to--That is all.” He fell back in his chair and looked a +at Kenton. + +“It is unusual,” the judge began. + +“Yes, Yes; I know that. And for that reason I speak first to you. I’ll +be ruled by you implicitly.” + +“I don’t mean that,” Kenton said. “I would have expected that you would +speak to her first. But I get your point of view, and I must say I think +you’re right. I think you are behaving--honorably. I wish that every one +was like you. But I can’t say anything now. I must talk with her mother. +My daughter’s life has not been happy. I can’t tell you. But as far as I +am concerned, and I think Mrs. Kenton, too, I would be glad--We like you +Mr. Breckon. We think you are a good man. + +“Oh, thank you. I’m not so sure--” + +“We’d risk it. But that isn’t all. Will you excuse me if I don’t say +anything more just yet--and if I leave you?” + +“Why, certainly.” The judge had risen and pushed back his chair, and +Breckon did the same. “And I shall--hear from you?” + +“Why, certainly,” said the judge in his turn. + +“It isn’t possible that you put him off!” his wife reproached him, when +he told what had passed between him and Breckon. “Oh, you couldn’t have +let him think that we didn’t want him for her! Surely you didn’t!” + +“Will you get it into your head,” he flamed back, “that he hasn’t spoken +to Ellen yet, and I couldn’t accept him till she had?” + +“Oh yes. I forgot that.” Mrs. Kenton struggled with the fact, in the +difficulty of realizing so strange an order of procedure. “I suppose +it’s his being educated abroad that way. But, do go back to him, Rufus, +and tell him that of course--” + +“I will do nothing of the kind, Sarah! What are you thinking of?” + +“Oh, I don’t know what I’m thinking of! I must see Ellen, I suppose. +I’ll go to her now. Oh, dear, if she doesn’t--if she lets such a chance +slip through her fingers--But she’s quite likely to, she’s so obstinate! +I wonder what she’ll want us to do.” + +She fled to her daughter’s room and found Boyne there, sitting beside +his sister’s bed, giving her a detailed account of his adventure of +the day before, up to the moment Mr. Breckon met him, in charge of the +detectives. Up to that moment, it appeared to Boyne, as nearly as he +could recollect, that he had not broken down, but had behaved himself +with a dignity which was now beginning to clothe his whole experience. +In the retrospect, a quiet heroism characterized his conduct, and at the +moment his mother entered the room he was questioning Ellen as to her +impressions of his bearing when she first saw him in the grasp of the +detectives. + +His mother took him by the arm, and said, “I want to speak with Ellen, +Boyne,” and put him out of the door. + +Then she came back and sat down in his chair. “Ellen. Mr. Breckon has +been speaking to your father. Do you know what about?” + +“About his going back to New York?” the girl suggested. + +Her mother kept her patience with difficulty. “No, not about that. About +you! He’s asked your father--I can’t understand yet why he did it, +only he’s so delicate and honorable, and goodness known we appreciate +it--whether he can tell you that--that--” It was not possible for such +a mother as Mrs. Kenton to say “He loves you”; it would have sounded as +she would have said, too sickish, and she compromised on: “He likes +you, and wants to ask you whether you will marry him. And, Ellen,” she +continued, in the ample silence which followed, “if you don’t say you +will, I will have nothing more to do With such a simpleton. I have +always felt that you behaved very foolishly about Mr. Bittridge, but +I hoped that when you grew older you would see it as we did, and--and +behave differently. And now, if, after all we’ve been through with you, +you are going to say that you won’t have Mr. Breckon--” + +Mrs. Kenton stopped for want of a figure that would convey all the +disaster that would fall upon Ellen in such an event, and she was given +further pause when the girl gently answered, “I’m not going to say that, +momma.” + +“Then what in the world are you going to say?” Mrs. Kenton demanded. + +Ellen had turned her face away on the pillow, and now she answered, +quietly, “When Mr. Breckon asks me I will tell him.” + +“Well, you had better!” her mother threatened in return, and she did not +realize the falsity of her position till she reported Ellen’s words to +the judge. + +“Well, Sarah, I think she had you there,” he said, and Mrs. Kenton +then said that she did not care, if the child was only going to behave +sensibly at last, and she did believe she was. + +“Then it’s all right” said the judge, and he took up the Tuskingum +Intelligencer, lying till then unread in the excitements which had +followed its arrival the day before, and began to read it. + +Mrs. Kenton sat dreamily watching him, with her hands fallen in her lap. +She suddenly started up, with the cry, “Good gracious! What are we all +thinking of?” + +Kenton stared at her over the top of his paper. “How, thinking of?” + +“Why Mr. Breckon! He must be crazy to know what we’ve decided, poor +fellow!” + +“Oh,” said the judge, folding the Intelligencer on his knee. “I had +forgotten. Somehow, I thought it was all settled.” + +Mrs. Kenton took his paper from him, and finished folding it. “It hasn’t +begun to be settled. You must go and let him know.” + +“Won’t he look me up?” the judge suggested. + +“You must look him up. Go at once dear! Think how anxious he must be!” + +Kenton was not sure that Breckon looked very anxious when he found him +on the brick promenade before the Kurhaus, apparently absorbed in noting +the convulsions of a large, round German lady in the water, who must +have supposed herself to be bathing. But perhaps the young man did not +see her; the smile on his face was too vague for such an interest when +he turned at Kenton’s approaching steps. + +The judge hesitated for an instant, in which the smile left Breckon’s +face. “I believe that’s all right, Mr. Breckon,” he said. “You’ll find +Mrs. Kenton in our parlor,” and then the two men parted, with an “Oh, +thank you!” from Breckon, who walked back towards the hotel, and left +Kenton to ponder upon the German lady; as soon as he realized that she +was not a barrel, the judge continued his walk along the promenade, +feeling rather ashamed. + +Mrs. Kenton had gone to Ellen’s room again when she had got the judge +off upon his mission. She rather flung in upon her. “Oh, you are up!” + she apologized to Ellen’s back. The girl’s face was towards the glass, +and she was tilting her head to get the effect of the hat on it, which +she now took off. + +“I suppose poppa’s gone to tell him,” she said, sitting tremulously +down. + +“Didn’t you want him to?” her mother asked, stricken a little at sight +of her agitation. + +“Yes, I wanted him to, but that doesn’t make it any easier. It makes it +harder. Momma!” + +“Well, Ellen?” + +“You know you’ve got to tell him, first.” + +“Tell him?” Mrs. Kenton repeated, but she knew what Ellen meant. + +“About--Mr. Bittridge. All about it. Every single thing. About his +kissing me that night.” + +At the last demand Mrs. Kenton was visibly shaken in her invisible +assent to the girl’s wish. “Don’t you think, Ellen, that you had better +tell him that--some time?” + +“No, now. And you must tell him. You let me go to the theatre with him.” + The faintest shadow of resentment clouded the girl’s face, but still +Mrs. Kenton, thought she knew her own guilt, could not yield. + +“Why, Ellen,” she pleaded, not without a reproachful sense of vulgarity +in such a plea, “don’t you suppose HE ever--kissed any one?” + +“That doesn’t concern me, momma,” said Ellen, without a trace of +consciousness that she was saying anything uncommon. “If you won’t tell +him, then that ends it. I won’t see him.” + +“Oh, well!” her mother sighed. “I will try to tell him. But I’d rather +be whipped. I know he’ll laugh at me.” + +“He won’t laugh at you,” said the girl, confidently, almost +comfortingly. “I want him to know everything before I meet him. I +don’t want to have a single thing on my mind. I don’t want to think of +myself!” + +Mrs. Kenton understood the woman--soul that spoke in these words. +“Well,” she said, with a deep, long breath, “be ready, then.” + +But she felt the burden which had been put upon her to be so much more +than she could bear that when she found her husband in their parlor she +instantly resolved to cast it upon him. He stood at the window with his +hat on. + +“Has Breckon been here yet?” he asked. + +“Have you seen him yet?” she returned. + +“Yes, and I thought he was coming right here. But perhaps he stopped to +screw his courage up. He only knew how little it needed with us!” + +“Well, now, it’s we who’ve got to have the courage. Or you have. Do +you know what Ellen wants to have done?” Mrs. Kenton put it in these +impersonal terms, and as a preliminary to shirking her share of the +burden. + +“She doesn’t want to have him refused?” + +“She wants to have him told all about Bittridge.” + +After a momentary revolt the judge said, “Well, that’s right. It’s like +Ellen.” + +“There’s something else that’s more like her,” said Mrs. Kenton, +indignantly. “She wants him to told about what Bittridge did that +night--about him kissing her.” + +The judge looked disgusted with his wife for the word; then he looked +aghast. “About--” + +“Yes, and she won’t have a word to say to him till he is told, and +unless he is told she will refuse him.” + +“Did she say that?” + +“No, but I know she will.” + +“If she didn’t say she would, I think we may take the chances that she +won’t.” + +“No, we mustn’t take any such chances. You must tell him.” + +“I? No, I couldn’t manage it. I have no tact, and it would sound +so confoundedly queer, coming from one man to another. It would +be--indelicate. It’s something that nobody but a woman--Why doesn’t she +tell him herself?” + +“She won’t. She considers it our part, and something we ought to do +before he commits himself.” + +“Very well, then, Sarah, you must tell him. You can manage it so it +won’t by so--queer. + +“That is just what I supposed you would say, Mr. Kenton, but I must say +I didn’t expect it of you. I think it’s cowardly.” + +“Look out, Sarah! I don’t like that word.” + +“Oh, I suppose you’re brave enough when it comes to any kind of danger. +But when it comes to taking the brunt of anything unpleasant--” + +“It isn’t unpleasant--it’s queer.” + +“Why do you keep saying that over and over? There’s nothing queer about +it. It’s Ellenish but isn’t it right?” + +“It’s right, yes, I suppose. But it’s squeamish.” + +“I see nothing squeamish about it. But I know you’re determined to leave +it to me, and so I shall do it. I don’t believe Mr. Breckon will think +it’s queer or squeamish.” + +“I’ve no doubt he’ll take it in the right way; you’ll know how to--” + Kenton looked into his hat, which he had taken off and then put it on +again. His tone and his manner were sufficiently sneaking, and he could +not make them otherwise. It was for this reason, no doubt, that he would +not prolong the interview. + +“Oh yes, go!” said Mrs. Kenton, as he found himself with his hand on the +door. “Leave it all to me, do!” and he was aware of skulking out of the +room. By the time that it would have taken him so long as to walk to +the top of the grand stairway he was back again. “He’s coming!” he said, +breathlessly. “I saw him at the bottom of the stairs. Go into your room +and wash your eyes. I’LL tell him.” + +“No, no, Rufus! Let me! It will be much better. You’ll be sure to bungle +it.” + +“We must risk that. You were quite right, Sarah. It would have been +cowardly in me to let you do it.” + +“Rufus! You know I didn’t mean it! Surely you’re not resenting that?” + +“No. I’m glad you made me see it. You’re all right, Sarah, and you’ll +find that it will all come out all right. You needn’t be afraid I’ll +bungle it. I shall use discretion. Go--” + +“I shall not stir a step from this parlor! You’ve got back all your +spirit, dear,” said the old wife, with young pride in her husband. “But +I must say that Ellen is putting more upon you than she has any right +to. I think she might tell him herself.” + +“No, it’s our business--my business. We allowed her to get in for it. +She’s quite right about it. We must not let him commit himself to her +till he knows the thing that most puts her to shame. It isn’t enough for +us to say that it was really no shame. She feels that it casts a sort of +stain--you know what I mean, Sarah, and I believe I can make this young +man know. If I can’t, so much the worse for him. He shall never see +Ellen again.” + +“Oh, Rufus!” + +“Do you think he would be worthy of her if he couldn’t?” + +“I think Ellen is perfectly ridiculous.” + +“Then that shows that I am right in deciding not to leave this thing to +you. I feel as she does about it, and I intend that he shall.” + +“Do you intend to let her run the chance of losing him?” + +“That is what I intend to do.” + +“Well, then, I’ll tell you what: I am going to stay right here. We will +both see him; it’s right for us to do it.” But at a rap on the parlor +door Mrs. Kenton flew to that of her own room, which she closed upon her +with a sort of Parthian whimper, “Oh, do be careful, Rufus!” + +Whether Kenton was careful or not could never be known, from either +Kenton himself or from Breckon. The judge did tell him everything, and +the young man received the most damning details of Ellen’s history with +a radiant absence which testified that they fell upon a surface sense +of Kenton, and did not penetrate to the all-pervading sense of Ellen +herself below. At the end Kenton was afraid he had not understood. + +“You understand,” he said, “that she could not consent to see you before +you knew just how weak she thought she had been.” The judge stiffened to +defiance in making this humiliation. “I don’t consider, myself, that she +was weak at all.” + +“Of course not!” Breckon beamed back at him. + +“I consider that throughout she acted with the greatest--greatest--And +that in that affair, when he behaved with that--that outrageous +impudence, it was because she had misled the scoundrel by her kindness, +her forbearance, her wish not to do him the least shadow of injustice, +but to give him every chance of proving himself worthy of her tolerance; +and--” + +The judge choked, and Breckon eagerly asked, “And shall I--may I see her +now?” + +“Why--yes,” the judge faltered. “If you’re sure--” + +“What about?” Breckon demanded. + +“I don’t know whether she will believe that I have told you.” + +“I will try to convince her. Where shall I see her?” + +“I will go and tell her you are here. I will bring her--” + +Kenton passed into the adjoining room, where his wife laid hold of +him, almost violently. “You did it beautifully, Rufus,” she huskily +whispered, “and I was so afraid you would spoil everything. Oh, how +manly you were, and how perfect he was! But now it’s my turn, and I will +go and bring Ellen--You will let me, won’t you?” + +“You may do anything you please, Sarah. I don’t want to have any more of +this,” said the judge from the chair he had dropped into. + +“Well, then, I will bring her at once,” said Mrs. Kenton, staying only +in her gladness to kiss him on his gray head; he received her embrace +with a superficial sultriness which did not deceive her. + +Ellen came back without her mother, and as soon as she entered the room, +and Breckon realized that she had come alone, he ran towards her as if +to take her in his arms. But she put up her hand with extended fingers, +and held him lightly off. + +“Did poppa tell you?” she asked, with a certain defiance. She held her +head up fiercely, and spoke steadily, but he could see the pulse beating +in her pretty neck. + +“Yes, he told me--” + +“And--well?” + +“Oh, I love you, Ellen--” + +“That isn’t it. Did you care?” + +Breckon had an inspiration, an inspiration from the truth that dwelt at +the bottom of his soul and had never yet failed to save him. He let his +arms fall and answered, desperately: “Yes, I did. I wished it hadn’t +happened.” He saw the pulse in her neck cease to beat, and he swiftly +added, “But I know that it happened just because you were yourself, and +were so--” + +“If you had said you didn’t care,” she breathlessly whispered, “I would +never have spoken to you.” He felt a conditional tremor creeping into +the fingers which had been so rigid against his breast. “I don’t see how +I lived through it! Do you think you can?” + +“I think so,” he returned, with a faint, far suggestion of levity that +brought from her an imperative, imploring-- + +“Don’t!” + +Then he added, solemnly, “It had no more to do with you, Ellen, than an +offence from some hateful animal--” + +“Oh, how good you are!” The fingers folded themselves, and her arms +weakened so that there was nothing to keep him from drawing her to him. +“What--what are you doing?” she asked, with her face smothered against +his. + +“Oh, Ell-en, Ellen, Ellen! Oh, my love, my dearest, my best!” + +“But I have been such a fool!” she protested, imagining that she was +going to push him from her, but losing herself in him more and more. + +“Yes, yes, darling! I know it. That’s why I love you so!” + + + + +XXVI. + +“There is just one thing,” said the judge, as he wound up his watch that +night, “that makes me a little uneasy still.” + +Mrs. Kenton, already in her bed turned her face upon him with a +despairing “Tchk! Dear! What is it? I thought we had talked over +everything.” + +“We haven’t got Lottie’s consent yet.” + +“Well, I think I see myself asking Lottie!” Mrs. Kenton began, before +she realized her husband’s irony. She added, “How could you give me such +a start?” + +“Well, Lottie has bossed us so long that I couldn’t help mentioning it,” + said the judge. + +It was a lame excuse, and in its most potential implication his +suggestion proved without reason. If Lottie never gave her explicit +approval to Ellen’s engagement, she never openly opposed it. She treated +it, rather, with something like silent contempt, as a childish weakness +on Ellen’s part which was beneath her serious consideration. Towards +Breckon, her behavior hardly changed in the severity which she had +assumed from the moment she first ceased to have any use for him. “I +suppose I will have to kiss him,” she said, gloomily, when her mother +told her that he was to be her brother, and she performed the rite with +as much coldness as was ever put in that form of affectionate welcome. +It is doubtful if Breckon perfectly realized its coldness; he never +knew how much he enraged her by acting as if she were a little girl, +and saying lightly, almost trivially, “I’m so glad you’re going to be a +sister to me.” + +With Ellen, Lottie now considered herself quits, and from the first hour +of Ellen’s happiness she threw off all the care with all the apparent +kindness which she had used towards her when she was a morbid invalid. +Here again, if Lottie had minded such a thing, she might have been as +much vexed by Ellen’s attitude as by Breckon’s. Ellen never once noticed +the withdrawal of her anxious oversight, or seemed in the least to miss +it. As much as her meek nature would allow, she arrogated to herself +the privileges and prerogatives of an elder sister, and if it had been +possible to make Lottie ever feel like a chit, there were moments when +Ellen’s behavior would have made her feel like a chit. It was not till +after their return to Tuskingum that Lottie took her true place in +relation to the affair, and in the preparations for the wedding, which +she appointed to be in the First Universalist Church, overruling both +her mother’s and sister’s preferences for a home wedding, that Lottie +rose in due authority. Mrs. Kenton had not ceased to feel quelled +whenever her younger daughter called her mother instead of momma, and +Ellen seemed not really to care. She submitted the matter to Breckon, +who said, “Oh yes, if Lottie wishes,” and he laughed when Ellen +confessed, “Well, I said we would.” + +With the lifting of his great anxiety, he had got back to that lightness +which was most like him, and he could not always conceal from Lottie +herself that he regarded her as a joke. She did not mind it, she said, +from such a mere sop as, in the vast content of his love, he was. + +This was some months after Lottie had got at Scheveningen from Mr. +Plumpton that letter which decided her that she had no use for him. +There came the same day, and by the same post with it, a letter from one +of her young men in Tuskingum, who had faithfully written to her all +the winter before, and had not intermitted his letters after she went +abroad. To Kenton he had always seemed too wise if not too good for +Lottie, but Mrs. Kenton, who had her own doubts of Lottie, would not +allow this when it came to the question, and said, woundedly, that she +did not see why Lottie was not fully his equal in every way. + +“Well,” the judge suggested, “she isn’t the first young lawyer at the +Tuskingum bar.” + +“Well, I wouldn’t wish her to be,” said Mrs. Kenton, who did not often +make jokes. + +“Well, I don’t know that I would,” her husband assented, and he added, +“Pretty good, Sarah.” + +“Lottie,” her mother summed up, “is practical, and she is very neat. She +won’t let Mr. Elroy go around looking so slovenly. I hope she will make +him have his hair cut, and not look as if it were bitten off. And I +don’t believe he’s had his boots blacked since--” + +“He was born,” the judge proposed, and she assented. + +“Yes. She is very saving, and he is wasteful. It will be a very good +match. You can let them build on the other corner of the lot, if Ellen +is going to be in New York. I would miss Lottie more than Ellen about +the housekeeping, though the dear knows I will miss them both badly +enough.” + +“Well, you can break off their engagements,” said the judge. + +As yet, and until Ellen was off her hands, Lottie would not allow Mr. +Elroy to consider himself engaged to her. His conditional devotion did +not debar him from a lover’s rights, and, until Breckon came on from +New York to be married, there was much more courtship of Lottie than +of Ellen in the house. But Lottie saved herself in the form if not the +fact, and as far as verbal terms were concerned, she was justified by +them in declaring that she would not have another sop hanging round. + +It was Boyne, and Boyne alone, who had any misgivings in regard to +Ellen’s engagement, and these were of a nature so recondite that when +he came to impart them to his mother, before they left Scheveningen, and +while there was yet time for that conclusion which his father suggested +to Mrs. Kenton too late, Boyne had an almost hopeless difficulty in +stating them. His approaches, even, were so mystical that his mother was +forced to bring him to book sharply. + +“Boyne, if you don’t tell me right off just what you mean, I don’t know +what I will do to you! What are you driving at, for pity’s sake? Are you +saying that she oughtn’t to be engaged to Mr. Breckon?” + +“No, I’m not saying that, momma,” said Boyne, in a distress that caused +his mother to take a reef in her impatience. + +“Well, what are you saying, then?” + +“Why, you know how Ellen is, momma. You know how conscientious +and--and--sensitive. Or, I don’t mean sensitive, exactly.” + +“Well?” + +“Well, I don’t think she ought to be engaged to Mr. Breckon out +of--gratitude.” + +“Gratitude?” + +“Yes. I just know that she thinks--or it would be just like her--that he +saved me that day. But he only met me about a second before we came +to her and poppa, and the officers were taking me right along towards +them.” Mrs. Kenton held herself stormily in, and he continued: “I know +that he translated for us before the magistrate, but the magistrate +could speak a little English, and when he saw poppa he saw that it was +all right, anyway. I don’t want to say anything against Mr. Breckon, and +I think he behaved as well any one could; but if Ellen is going to marry +him out of gratitude for saving me--” + +Mrs. Kenton could hold in no longer. “And is this what you’ve been +bothering the life half out of me for, for the last hour?” + +“Well, I thought you ought to look at it in that light, momma.” + +“Well, Boyne,” said his mother, “sometimes I think you’re almost a +fool!” and she turned her back upon her son and left him. + +Boyne’s place in the Kenton family, for which he continued to have +the highest regard, became a little less difficult, a little less +incompatible with his self-respect as time went on. His spirit, which +had lagged a little after his body in stature, began, as his father +said, to catch up. He no longer nourished it so exclusively upon +heroical romance as he had during the past year, and after his return +to Tuskingum he went into his brother Richard’s once, and manifested a +certain curiosity in the study of the law. He read Blackstone, and could +give a fair account of his impressions of English law to his father. +He had quite outlived the period of entomological research, and he +presented his collections of insects (somewhat moth-eaten) to his +nephew, on whom he also bestowed his postage-stamp album; Mary Kenton +accepted them in trust, the nephew being of yet too tender years for +their care. In the preoccupations of his immediate family with Ellen’s +engagement, Boyne became rather close friends with his sister-in-law, +and there were times when he was tempted to submit to her judgment the +question whether the young Queen of Holland did not really beckon to him +that day. But pending the hour when he foresaw that Lottie should come +out with the whole story, in some instant of excitement, Boyne had not +quite the heart to speak of his experience. It assumed more and more +respectability with him, and lost that squalor which had once put him to +shame while it was yet new. He thought that Mary might be reasoned into +regarding him as the hero of an adventure, but he is still hesitating +whether to confide in her. In the meantime she knows all about it. Mary +and Richard both approved of Ellen’s choice, though they are somewhat +puzzled to make out just what Mr. Breckon’s religion is, and what his +relations to his charge in New York may be. These do not seem to them +quite pastoral, and he himself shares their uncertainty. But since his +flock does not include Mrs. Rasmith and her daughter, he is content to +let the question remain in abeyance. The Rasmiths are settled in Rome +with an apparent permanency which they have not known elsewhere for a +long time, and they have both joined in the friendliest kind of letter +on his marriage to their former pastor, if that was what Breckon was. +They have professed to know from the first that he was in love with +Ellen, and that he is in love with her now is the strong present belief +of his flock, if they are a flock, and if they may be said to have +anything so positive as a belief in regard to anything. + +Judge Kenton has given the Elroys the other corner of the lot, and +has supplied them the means of building on it. Mary and Lottie run +diagonally into the home-house every day, and nothing keeps either from +coming into authority over the old people except the fear of each other +in which they stand. The Kentons no longer make any summer journeys, but +in the winter they take Boyne and go to see Ellen in New York. They do +not stay so long as Mrs. Kenton would like. As soon as they have fairly +seen the Breckons, and have settled comfortably down in their pleasant +house on West Seventy-fourth Street, she detects him in a secret habit +of sighing, which she recognizes as the worst symptom of homesickness, +and then she confides to Ellen that she supposes Mr. Kenton will +make her go home with him before long. Ellen knows it is useless +to interfere. She even encourages her father’s longings, so far as +indulging his clandestine visits to the seedsman’s, and she goes with +him to pick up second-hand books about Ohio in the War at the dealers’, +who remember the judge very flatteringly. + +As February draws on towards March it becomes impossible to detain +Kenton. His wife and son return with him to Tuskingum, where Lottie +has seen to the kindling of a good fire in the furnace against their +arrival, and has nearly come to blows with Mary about provisioning them +for the first dinner. Then Mrs. Kenton owns, with a comfort which she +will not let her husband see, that there is no place like home, and they +take up their life in the place where they have been so happy and so +unhappy. He reads to her a good deal at night, and they play a game +of checkers usually before they go to bed; she still cheats without +scruple, for, as she justly says, he knows very well that she cannot +bear to be beaten. + +The colonel, as he is still invariably known to his veterans, works +pretty faithfully at the regimental autobiography, and drives round the +country, picking up material among them, in a buggy plastered with +mud. He has imagined, since his last visit to Breckon, who dictates his +sermons, if they are sermons, taking a stenographer with him, and the +young lady, who is in deadly terror of the colonel’s driving, is of the +greatest use to him, in the case of veterans who will not or cannot +give down (as they say in their dairy-country parlance), and has already +rescued many reminiscences from perishing in their faltering memories. +She writes them out in the judge’s library when the colonel gets home, +and his wife sometimes surprises Mr. Kenton correcting them there at +night after she supposes he has gone to bed. + +Since it has all turned out for the best concerning Bittridge, she no +longer has those pangs of self-reproach for Richard’s treatment of +him which she suffered while afraid that if the fact came to Ellen’s +knowledge it might make her refuse Breckon. She does not find her +daughter’s behavior in the matter so anomalous as it appears to the +judge. + +He is willing to account for it on the ground of that inconsistency +which he has observed in all human behavior, but Mrs. Kenton is not +inclined to admit that it is so very inconsistent. She contends that +Ellen had simply lived through that hateful episode of her psychological +history, as she was sure to do sooner or later and as she was destined +to do as soon as some other person arrived to take her fancy. + +If this is the crude, common-sense view of the matter, Ellen herself is +able to offer no finer explanation, which shall at the same time be more +thorough. She and her husband have not failed to talk the affair over, +with that fulness of treatment which young married people give their +past when they have nothing to conceal from each other. She has +attempted to solve the mystery by blaming herself for a certain +essential levity of nature which, under all her appearance of gravity, +sympathized with levity in others, and, for what she knows to the +contrary, with something ignoble and unworthy in them. Breckon, of +course, does not admit this, but he has suggested that she was first +attracted to him by a certain unseriousness which reminded her of +Bittridge, in enabling him to take her seriousness lightly. This is the +logical inference which he makes from her theory of herself, but she +insists that it does not follow; and she contends that she was moved to +love him by an instant sense of his goodness, which she never lost, and +in which she was trying to equal herself with him by even the desperate +measure of renouncing her happiness, if that should ever seem her duty, +to his perfection. He says this is not very clear, though it is awfully +gratifying, and he does not quite understand why Mrs. Bittridge’s letter +should have liberated Ellen from her fancied obligations to the past. +Ellen can only say that it did so by making her so ashamed ever to have +had anything to do with such people, and making her see how much she had +tried her father and mother by her folly. This again Breckon contends +is not clear, but he says we live in a universe of problems in which +another, more or less, does not much matter. He is always expecting +that some chance shall confront him with Bittridge, and that the man’s +presence will explain everything; for, like so many Ohio people who +leave their native State, the Bittridges have come East instead of going +West, in quitting the neighborhood of Tuskingum. He is settled with his +idolized mother in New York, where he is obscurely attached to one of +the newspapers. That he has as yet failed to rise from the ranks in +the great army of assignment men may be because moral quality tells +everywhere, and to be a clever blackguard is not so well as to be simply +clever. If ever Breckon has met his alter ego, as he amuses himself in +calling him, he has not known it, though Bittridge may have been wiser +in the case of a man of Breckon’s publicity, not to call it distinction. +There was a time, immediately after the Breckons heard from Tuskingum +that the Bittridges were in New York, when Ellen’s husband consulted her +as to what might be his duty towards her late suitor in the event which +has not taken place, and when he suggested, not too seriously, that +Richard’s course might be the solution. To his suggestion Ellen +answered: “Oh no, dear! That was wrong,” and this remains also Richard’s +opinion. + + + + +PG EDITOR’S BOOKMARKS: + + A nature which all modesty and deference seemed left out of + All but took the adieus out of Richard’s hands + Americans spoil their women! “Well, their women are worth it” + An inscrutable frown goes far in such exigencies + Another problem, more or less, does not much matter + Certain comfort in their mutual discouragement + Conscience to own the fact and the kindness to deny it + Fatuity of a man in such things + Fatuity of age regarding all the things of the past + Fertile in difficulties and so importunate for their solution + Girl is never so much in danger of having her heart broken + Good comrades, as elderly married people are apt to be + He was too little used to deference from ladies + Impart their sufferings as well as their pleasures to each other + Know more of their clothes than the people they buy them of + Learning to ask her no questions about herself + Left him alone to the first ecstasy of his homesickness + Living in the present + Melting into pity against all sense of duty + Misgiving of a blessed immortality + More faith in her wisdom than she had herself + More helpful with trouble to be ignorant of its cause + Not find more harm in them, if you did not bring it with you + Not what their mothers but what their environments made them + Pain of the preparations for a day’s pleasure + Part of her pride not to ask + Performance of their common duty must fall wholly to her + Petted person in her youth, perhaps, and now she petted herself + Place where they have been so happy and so unhappy + Provoked that her mother would not provoke her further + Question whether the fellow was more a fool or a fraud + Relationship when one gives a reproof and the other accepts it + Relieved from a discoverer’s duties to Europe + Renunciation of his judgment in deference to the good woman + Waiting with patience for the term of his exile + We have to make-believe before we can believe anything + When he got so far beyond his depth + Why, at his age, should he be going into exile + Wife was glad of the release from housekeeping + Worst whim was having no wish that could be ascertained + + + + + + +End of the Project Gutenberg EBook of The Kentons, by William Dean Howells + +*** END OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK THE KENTONS *** + +***** This file should be named 3362-0.txt or 3362-0.zip ***** +This and all associated files of various formats will be found in: + https://www.gutenberg.org/3/3/6/3362/ + +Produced by David Widger + + +Updated editions will replace the previous one--the old editions +will be renamed. + +Creating the works from public domain print editions means that no +one owns a United States copyright in these works, so the Foundation +(and you!) can copy and distribute it in the United States without +permission and without paying copyright royalties. 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Thus, we do not necessarily +keep eBooks in compliance with any particular paper edition. + + +Most people start at our Web site which has the main PG search facility: + + https://www.gutenberg.org + +This Web site includes information about Project Gutenberg-tm, +including how to make donations to the Project Gutenberg Literary +Archive Foundation, how to help produce our new eBooks, and how to +subscribe to our email newsletter to hear about new eBooks. diff --git a/3362-0.zip b/3362-0.zip Binary files differnew file mode 100644 index 0000000..dbde9ce --- /dev/null +++ b/3362-0.zip diff --git a/3362-h.zip b/3362-h.zip Binary files differnew file mode 100644 index 0000000..fbca85d --- /dev/null +++ b/3362-h.zip diff --git a/3362-h/3362-h.htm b/3362-h/3362-h.htm new file mode 100644 index 0000000..1f47049 --- /dev/null +++ b/3362-h/3362-h.htm @@ -0,0 +1,10654 @@ +<?xml version="1.0" encoding="utf-8"?> + +<!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" lang="en"> + <head> + <title> + The Kentons, by William Dean Howells + </title> + <style type="text/css" xml:space="preserve"> + + body { margin:5%; background:#faebd7; text-align:justify} + P { text-indent: 1em; margin-top: .25em; margin-bottom: .25em; } + H1,H2,H3,H4,H5,H6 { text-align: center; margin-left: 15%; margin-right: 15%; } + hr { width: 50%; text-align: center;} + .foot { margin-left: 20%; margin-right: 20%; text-align: justify; text-indent: -3em; font-size: 90%; } + blockquote {font-size: 97%; font-style: italic; margin-left: 10%; margin-right: 10%;} + .mynote {background-color: #DDE; color: #000; padding: .5em; margin-left: 10%; margin-right: 10%; font-family: sans-serif; font-size: 95%;} + .toc { margin-left: 10%; margin-bottom: .75em;} + .toc2 { margin-left: 20%;} + div.fig { display:block; margin:0 auto; text-align:center; } + .figleft {float: left; margin-left: 0%; margin-right: 1%;} + .figright {float: right; margin-right: 0%; margin-left: 1%;} + pre { font-style: italic; font-size: 90%; margin-left: 10%;} + +</style> + </head> + <body> + <p> + <br /><br /> + </p> +<pre xml:space="preserve"> +The Project Gutenberg EBook of The Kentons, by William Dean Howells + +This eBook is for the use of anyone anywhere at no cost and with +almost no restrictions whatsoever. You may copy it, give it away or +re-use it under the terms of the Project Gutenberg License included +with this eBook or online at www.gutenberg.org + + +Title: The Kentons + +Author: William Dean Howells + +Release Date: September 1, 2006 [EBook #3362] +Last Updated: August 21, 2016 + +Language: English + +Character set encoding: UTF-8 + +*** START OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK THE KENTONS *** + + + +Produced by David Widger + + + + + + +</pre> + + <h1> + THE KENTONS + </h1> + <p> + <br /> + </p> + <h2> + By William Dean Howells + </h2> + <p> + <br /> <br /> + </p> + <hr /> + <p> + <br /> <br /> + </p> + <blockquote> + <p class="toc"> + <big><b>CONTENTS</b></big> + </p> + <p> + <br /> + </p> + <p class="toc"> + <a href="#link2H_4_0001"> I. </a> + </p> + <p class="toc"> + <a href="#link2H_4_0002"> II. </a> + </p> + <p class="toc"> + <a href="#link2H_4_0003"> III. </a> + </p> + <p class="toc"> + <a href="#link2H_4_0004"> IV </a> + </p> + <p class="toc"> + <a href="#link2H_4_0005"> V. </a> + </p> + <p class="toc"> + <a href="#link2H_4_0006"> VI. </a> + </p> + <p class="toc"> + <a href="#link2H_4_0007"> VII. </a> + </p> + <p class="toc"> + <a href="#link2H_4_0008"> VIII. </a> + </p> + <p class="toc"> + <a href="#link2H_4_0009"> IX. </a> + </p> + <p class="toc"> + <a href="#link2H_4_0010"> X </a> + </p> + <p class="toc"> + <a href="#link2H_4_0011"> XI. </a> + </p> + <p class="toc"> + <a href="#link2H_4_0012"> XII. </a> + </p> + <p class="toc"> + <a href="#link2H_4_0013"> XIII. </a> + </p> + <p class="toc"> + <a href="#link2H_4_0014"> XIV. </a> + </p> + <p class="toc"> + <a href="#link2H_4_0015"> XV. </a> + </p> + <p class="toc"> + <a href="#link2H_4_0016"> XVI. </a> + </p> + <p class="toc"> + <a href="#link2H_4_0017"> XVII. </a> + </p> + <p class="toc"> + <a href="#link2H_4_0018"> XVIII. </a> + </p> + <p class="toc"> + <a href="#link2H_4_0019"> XIX. </a> + </p> + <p class="toc"> + <a href="#link2H_4_0020"> XX. </a> + </p> + <p class="toc"> + <a href="#link2H_4_0021"> XXI. </a> + </p> + <p class="toc"> + <a href="#link2H_4_0022"> XXII. </a> + </p> + <p class="toc"> + <a href="#link2H_4_0023"> XXIII. </a> + </p> + <p class="toc"> + <a href="#link2H_4_0024"> XXIV. </a> + </p> + <p class="toc"> + <a href="#link2H_4_0025"> XV. </a> + </p> + <p class="toc"> + <a href="#link2H_4_0026"> XXVI. </a> + </p> + </blockquote> + <p> + <br /> <br /> + </p> + <hr /> + <p> + <br /> <br /> <a name="link2H_4_0001" id="link2H_4_0001"> + <!-- H2 anchor --> </a> + </p> + <h2> + I. + </h2> + <p> + The Kentons were not rich, but they were certainly richer than the average + in the pleasant county town of the Middle West, where they had spent + nearly their whole married life. As their circumstances had grown easier, + they had mellowed more and more in the keeping of their comfortable home, + until they hated to leave it even for the short outings, which their + children made them take, to Niagara or the Upper Lakes in the hot weather. + They believed that they could not be so well anywhere as in the great + square brick house which still kept its four acres about it, in the heart + of the growing town, where the trees they had planted with their own hands + topped it on three aides, and a spacious garden opened southward behind it + to the summer wind. Kenton had his library, where he transacted by day + such law business as he had retained in his own hands; but at night he + liked to go to his wife’s room and sit with her there. They left the + parlors and piazzas to their girls, where they could hear them laughing + with the young fellows who came to make the morning calls, long since + disused in the centres of fashion, or the evening calls, scarcely more + authorized by the great world. She sewed, and he read his paper in her + satisfactory silence, or they played checkers together. She did not like + him to win, and when she found herself unable to bear the prospect of + defeat, she refused to let him make the move that threatened the safety of + her men. Sometimes he laughed at her, and sometimes he scolded, but they + were very good comrades, as elderly married people are apt to be. They had + long ago quarrelled out their serious differences, which mostly arose from + such differences of temperament as had first drawn them together; they + criticised each other to their children from time to time, but they atoned + for this defection by complaining of the children to each other, and they + united in giving way to them on all points concerning their happiness, not + to say their pleasure. + </p> + <p> + They had both been teachers in their youth before he went into the war, + and they had not married until he had settled himself in the practice of + the law after he left the army. He was then a man of thirty, and five + years older than she; five children were born to them, but the second son + died when he was yet a babe in his mother’s arms, and there was an + interval of six years between the first boy and the first girl. Their + eldest son was already married, and settled next them in a house which was + brick, like their own, but not square, and had grounds so much less ample + that he got most of his vegetables from their garden. He had grown + naturally into a share of his father’s law practice, and he had taken it + all over when Renton was elected to the bench. He made a show of giving it + back after the judge retired, but by that time Kenton was well on in the + fifties. The practice itself had changed, and had become mainly the legal + business of a large corporation. In this form it was distasteful to him; + he kept the affairs of some of his old clients in his hands, but he gave + much of his time, which he saved his self-respect by calling his leisure, + to a history of his regiment in-the war. + </p> + <p> + In his later life he had reverted to many of the preoccupations of his + youth, and he believed that Tuskingum enjoyed the best climate, on the + whole, in the union; that its people of mingled Virginian, Pennsylvanian, + and Connecticut origin, with little recent admixture of foreign strains, + were of the purest American stock, and spoke the best English in the + world; they enjoyed obviously the greatest sum of happiness, and had + incontestibly the lowest death rate and divorce rate in the State. The + growth of the place was normal and healthy; it had increased only to five + thousand during the time he had known it, which was almost an ideal figure + for a county-town. There was a higher average of intelligence than in any + other place of its size, and a wider and evener diffusion of prosperity. + Its record in the civil war was less brilliant, perhaps, than that of some + other localities, but it was fully up to the general Ohio level, which was + the high-water mark of the national achievement in the greatest war of the + greatest people under the sun. It, was Kenton’s pride and glory that he + had been a part of the finest army known in history. He believed that the + men who made history ought to write it, and in his first Commemoration-Day + oration he urged his companions in arms to set down everything they could + remember of their soldiering, and to save the letters they had written + home, so that they might each contribute to a collective autobiography of + the regiment. It was only in this way, he held, that the intensely + personal character of the struggle could be recorded. He had felt his way + to the fact that every battle is essentially episodical, very campaign a + sum of fortuities; and it was not strange that he should suppose, with his + want of perspective, that this universal fact was purely national and + American. His zeal made him the repository of a vast mass of material + which he could not have refused to keep for the soldiers who brought it to + him, more or less in a humorous indulgence of his whim. But he even + offered to receive it, and in a community where everything took the + complexion of a joke, he came to be affectionately regarded as a crank on + that point; the shabbily aging veterans, whom he pursued to their + workbenches and cornfields, for, the documents of the regimental history, + liked to ask the colonel if he had brought his gun. They, always give him + the title with which he had been breveted at the close of the war; but he + was known to the younger, generation of his fellow-citizens as the judge. + His wife called him Mr. Kenton in the presence of strangers, and sometimes + to himself, but to his children she called him Poppa, as they did. + </p> + <p> + The steady-going eldest son, who had succeeded to his father’s affairs + without giving him the sense of dispossession, loyally accepted the + popular belief that he would never be the man his father was. He joined + with his mother in a respect for Kenton’s theory of the regimental history + which was none the less sincere because it was unconsciously a little + sceptical of the outcome; and the eldest daughter was of their party. The + youngest said frankly that she had no use for any history, but she said + the same of nearly everything which had not directly or indirectly to do + with dancing. In this regulation she had use for parties and picnics, for + buggy-rides and sleigh-rides, for calls from young men and visits to and + from other girls, for concerts, for plays, for circuses and church + sociables, for everything but lectures; and she devoted herself to her + pleasures without the shadow of chaperonage, which was, indeed, a thing + still unheard of in Tuskingum. + </p> + <p> + In the expansion which no one else ventured, or, perhaps, wished to set + bounds to, she came under the criticism of her younger brother, who, upon + the rare occasions when he deigned to mingle in the family affairs, drew + their mother’s notice to his sister’s excesses in carrying-on, and + required some action that should keep her from bringing the name, of + Kenton to disgrace. From being himself a boy of very slovenly and lawless + life he had suddenly, at the age of fourteen, caught himself up from the + street, reformed his dress and conduct, and confined himself in his large + room at the top of the house, where, on the pursuits to which he gave his + spare time, the friends who frequented his society, and the literature + which nourished his darkling spirit, might fitly have been written + Mystery. The sister whom he reprobated was only two years his elder, but + since that difference in a girl accounts for a great deal, it apparently + authorized her to take him more lightly than he was able to take himself. + She said that he was in love, and she achieved an importance with him + through his speechless rage and scorn which none of the rest of his family + enjoyed. With his father and mother he had a bearing of repressed + superiority which a strenuous conscience kept from unmasking itself in + open contempt when they failed to make his sister promise to behave + herself. Sometimes he had lapses from his dignified gloom with his mother, + when, for no reason that could be given, he fell from his habitual majesty + to the tender dependence of a little boy, just as his voice broke from its + nascent base to its earlier treble at moments when he least expected or + wished such a thing to happen. His stately but vague ideal of himself was + supported by a stature beyond his years, but this rendered it the more + difficult for him to bear the humiliation of his sudden collapses, and + made him at other times the easier prey of Lottie’s ridicule. He got on + best, or at least most evenly, with his eldest sister. She took him + seriously, perhaps because she took all life so; and she was able to + interpret him to his father when his intolerable dignity forbade a common + understanding between them. When he got so far beyond his depth that he + did not know what he meant himself, as sometimes happened, she gently + found him a safe footing nearer shore. + </p> + <p> + Kenton’s theory was that he did not distinguish among his children. He + said that he did not suppose they were the best children in the world, but + they suited him; and he would not have known how to change them for the + better. He saw no harm in the behavior of Lottie when it most shocked her + brother; he liked her to have a good time; but it flattered his nerves to + have Ellen about him. Lottie was a great deal more accomplished, he + allowed that; she could play and sing, and she had social gifts far beyond + her sister; but he easily proved to his wife that Nelly knew ten times as + much. + </p> + <p> + Nelly read a great deal; she kept up with all the magazines, and knew all + the books in his library. He believed that she was a fine German scholar, + and in fact she had taken up that language after leaving school, when, if + she had been better advised than she could have been in Tuskingum, she + would have kept on with her French. She started the first book club in the + place; and she helped her father do the intellectual honors of the house + to the Eastern lecturers, who always stayed with the judge when they came + to Tuskingum. She was faithfully present at the moments, which her sister + shunned in derision, when her father explained to them respectively his + theory of regimental history, and would just, as he said, show them a few + of the documents he had collected. He made Ellen show them; she knew where + to put her hand on the most characteristic and illustrative; and Lottie + offered to bet what one dared that Ellen would marry some of those + lecturers yet; she was literary enough. + </p> + <p> + She boasted that she was not literary herself, and had no use for any one + who was; and it could not have been her culture that drew the most + cultivated young man in Tuskingum to her. Ellen was really more beautiful; + Lottie was merely very pretty; but she had charm for them, and Ellen, who + had their honor and friendship, had no charm for them. No one seemed drawn + to her as they were drawn to her sister till a man came who was not one of + the most cultivated in Tuskingum; and then it was doubtful whether she was + not first drawn to him. She was too transparent to hide her feeling from + her father and mother, who saw with even more grief than shame that she + could not hide it from the man himself, whom they thought so unworthy of + it. + </p> + <p> + He had suddenly arrived in Tuskingum from one of the villages of the + county, where he had been teaching school, and had found something to do + as reporter on the Tuskingum ‘Intelligencer’, which he was instinctively + characterizing with the spirit of the new journalism, and was pushing as + hardily forward on the lines of personality as if he had dropped down to + it from the height of a New York or Chicago Sunday edition. The judge + said, with something less than his habitual honesty, that he did not mind + his being a reporter, but he minded his being light and shallow; he minded + his being flippant and mocking; he minded his bringing his cigarettes and + banjo into the house at his second visit. He did not mind his push; the + fellow had his way to make and he had to push; but he did mind his being + all push; and his having come out of the country with as little simplicity + as if he had passed his whole life in the city. He had no modesty, and he + had no reverence; he had no reverence for Ellen herself, and the poor girl + seemed to like him for that. + </p> + <p> + He was all the more offensive to the judge because he was himself to blame + for their acquaintance, which began when one day the fellow had called + after him in the street, and then followed down the shady sidewalk beside + him to his hour, wanting to know what this was he had heard about his + history, and pleading for more light upon his plan in it. At the gate he + made a flourish of opening and shutting it for the judge, and walking up + the path to his door he kept his hand on the judge’s shoulder most + offensively; but in spite of this Kenton had the weakness to ask him in, + and to call Ellen to get him the most illustrative documents of the + history. + </p> + <p> + The interview that resulted in the ‘Intelligencer’ was the least evil that + came of this error. Kenton was amazed, and then consoled, and then + afflicted that Ellen was not disgusted with it; and in his conferences + with his wife he fumed and fretted at his own culpable folly, and tried to + get back of the time he had committed it, in that illusion which people + have with trouble that it could somehow be got rid of if it could fairly + be got back of; till the time came when his wife could no longer share his + unrest in this futile endeavor. + </p> + <p> + She said, one night when they had talked late and long, “That can’t be + helped now; and the question is what are we going to do to stop it.” + </p> + <p> + The judge evaded the point in saying, “The devil of it is that all the + nice fellows are afraid of her; they respect her too much, and the very + thing which ought to disgust her with this chap is what gives him his + power over her. I don’t know what we are going to do, but we must break it + off, somehow.” + </p> + <p> + “We might take her with us somewhere,” Mrs. Kenton suggested. + </p> + <p> + “Run away from the fellow? I think I see myself! No, we have got to stay + and face the thing right here. But I won’t have him about the house any + more, understand that. He’s not to be let in, and Ellen mustn’t see him; + you tell her I said so. Or no! I will speak to her myself.” His wife said + that he was welcome to do that; but he did not quite do it. He certainly + spoke to his daughter about her, lover, and he satisfied himself that + there was yet nothing explicit between them. But she was so much less + frank and open with him than she had always been before that he was + wounded as well as baffled by her reserve. He could not get her to own + that she really cared for the fellow; but man as he was, and old man as he + was, he could not help perceiving that she lived in a fond dream of him. + </p> + <p> + He went from her to her mother. “If he was only one-half the man she + thinks he is!”—he ended his report in a hopeless sigh. + </p> + <p> + “You want to give in to her!” his wife pitilessly interpreted. “Well, + perhaps that would be the best thing, after all.” + </p> + <p> + “No, no, it wouldn’t, Sarah; it would be the easiest for both of us, I + admit, but it would be the worst thing for her. We’ve got to let it run + along for a while yet. If we give him rope enough he may hang himself; + there’s that chance. We can’t go away, and we can’t shut her up, and we + can’t turn him out of the house. We must trust her to find him out for + herself.” + </p> + <p> + “She’ll never do that,” said the mother. “Lottie says Ellen thinks he’s + just perfect. He cheers her up, and takes her out of herself. We’ve always + acted with her as if we thought she was different from other girls, and he + behaves to her as if she was just like all of them, just as silly, and + just as weak, and it pleases her, and flatters her; she likes it.” + </p> + <p> + “Oh, Lord!” groaned the father. “I suppose she does.” + </p> + <p> + This was bad enough; it was a blow to his pride in Ellen; but there was + something that hurt him still worse. When the fellow had made sure of her, + he apparently felt himself so safe in her fondness that he did not urge + his suit with her. His content with her tacit acceptance gave the + bitterness of shame to the promise Kenton and his wife had made each other + never to cross any of their children in love. They were ready now to keep + that promise for Ellen, if he asked it of them, rather than answer for her + lifelong disappointment, if they denied him. But, whatever he meant + finally to do, he did not ask it; he used his footing in their house + chiefly as a basis for flirtations beyond it. He began to share his + devotions to Ellen with her girl friends, and not with her girl friends + alone. It did not come to scandal, but it certainly came to gossip about + him and a silly young wife; and Kenton heard of it with a torment of doubt + whether Ellen knew of it, and what she would do; he would wait for her to + do herself whatever was to be done. He was never certain how much she had + heard of the gossip when she came to her mother, and said with the gentle + eagerness she had, “Didn’t poppa talk once of going South this winter?” + </p> + <p> + “He talked of going to New York,” the mother answered, with a throb of + hope. + </p> + <p> + “Well,” the girl returned, patiently, and Mrs. Kenton read in her + passivity an eagerness to be gone from sorrow that she would not suffer to + be seen, and interpreted her to her father in such wise that he could not + hesitate. + </p> + <p> + <a name="link2H_4_0002" id="link2H_4_0002"> + <!-- H2 anchor --> </a> + </p> + <div style="height: 4em;"> + <br /><br /><br /><br /> + </div> + <h2> + II. + </h2> + <p> + If such a thing could be mercifully ordered, the order of this event had + certainly been merciful; but it was a cruel wrench that tore Kenton from + the home where he had struck such deep root. When he actually came to + leave the place his going had a ghastly unreality, which was heightened by + his sense of the common reluctance. No one wanted to go, so far as he + could make out, not even Ellen herself, when he tried to make her say she + wished it. Lottie was in open revolt, and animated her young men to a + share in the insurrection. Her older brother was kindly and helpfully + acquiescent, but he was so far from advising the move that Kenton had + regularly to convince himself that Richard approved it, by making him say + that it was only for the winter and that it was the best way of helping + Ellen get rid of that fellow. All this did not enable Kenton to meet the + problems of his younger son, who required him to tell what he was to do + with his dog and his pigeons, and to declare at once how he was to dispose + of the cocoons he had amassed so as not to endanger the future of the + moths and butterflies involved in them. The boy was so fertile in + difficulties and so importunate for their solution, that he had to be + crushed into silence by his father, who ached in a helpless sympathy with + his reluctance. + </p> + <p> + Kenton came heavily upon the courage of his wife, who was urging forward + their departure with so much energy that he obscurely accused her of being + the cause of it, and could only be convinced of her innocence when she + offered to give the whole thing up if he said so. When he would not say + so, she carried the affair through to the bitter end, and she did not + spare him some, pangs which she perhaps need not have shared with him. But + people are seldom man and wife for half their lives without wishing to + impart their sufferings as well as their pleasures to each other; and Mrs. + Kenton, if she was no worse, was no better than other wives in pressing to + her husband’s lips the cup that was not altogether sweet to her own. She + went about the house the night before closing it, to see that everything + was in a state to be left, and then she came to Kenton in his library, + where he had been burning some papers and getting others ready to give in + charge to his son, and sat down by his cold hearth with him, and wrung his + soul with the tale of the last things she had been doing. When she had + made him bear it all, she began to turn the bright side of the affair to + him. She praised the sense and strength of Ellen, in the course the girl + had taken with herself, and asked him if he, really thought they could + have done less for her than they were doing. She reminded him that they + were not running away from the fellow, as she had once thought they must, + but Ellen was renouncing him, and putting him out of her sight till she + could put him out of her mind. She did not pretend that the girl had done + this yet; but it was everything that she wished to do it, and saw that it + was best. Then she kissed him on his gray head, and left him alone to the + first ecstasy of his homesickness. + </p> + <p> + It was better when they once got to New York, and were settled in an + apartment of an old-fashioned down-town hotel. They thought themselves + very cramped in it, and they were but little easier when they found that + the apartments over and under them were apparently thought spacious for + families of twice their numbers. It was the very quietest place in the + whole city, but Kenton was used to the stillness of Tuskingum, where, + since people no longer kept hens, the nights were stiller than in the + country itself; and for a week he slept badly. Otherwise, as soon as they + got used to living in six rooms instead of seventeen, they were really + very comfortable. + </p> + <p> + He could see that his wife was glad of the release from housekeeping, and + she was growing gayer and seemed to be growing younger in the inspiration + of the great, good-natured town. They had first come to New York on their + wedding journey, but since that visit she had always let him go alone on + his business errands to the East; these had grown less and less frequent, + and he had not seen New York for ten or twelve years. He could have waited + as much longer, but he liked her pleasure in the place, and with the + homesickness always lurking at his heart he went about with her to the + amusements which she frequented, as she said, to help Ellen take her mind + off herself. At the play and the opera he sat thinking of the silent, + lonely house at Tuakingum, dark among its leafless maples, and the life + that was no more in it than if they had all died out of it; and he could + not keep down a certain resentment, senseless and cruel, as if the poor + girl were somehow to blame for their exile. When he betrayed this feeling + to his wife, as he sometimes must, she scolded him for it, and then + offered, if he really thought anything like that, to go back to Tuskingum + at once; and it ended in his having to own himself wrong, and humbly + promise that he never would let the child dream how he felt, unless he + really wished to kill her. He was obliged to carry his self-punishment so + far as to take Lottie very sharply to task when she broke out in hot + rebellion, and declared that it was all Ellen’s fault; she was not afraid + of killing her sister; and though she did not say it to her, she said it + of her, that anybody else could have got rid of that fellow without + turning the whole family out of house and home. + </p> + <p> + Lottie, in fact, was not having a bit good time in New York, which she did + not find equal in any way to Tuskingum for fun. She hated the dull + propriety of the hotel, where nobody got acquainted, and every one was as + afraid as death of every one else; and in her desolation she was thrown + back upon the society of her brother Boyne. They became friends in their + common dislike of New York; and pending some chance of bringing each other + under condemnation they lamented their banishment from Tuskingum together. + But even Boyne contrived to make the heavy time pass more lightly than she + in the lessons he had with a tutor, and the studies of the city which he + carried on. When the skating was not good in Central Park he spent most of + his afternoons and evenings at the vaudeville theatres. None of the dime + museums escaped his research, and he conversed with freaks and monsters of + all sorts upon terms of friendly confidence. He reported their different + theories of themselves to his family with the same simple-hearted interest + that he criticised the song and dance artists of the vaudeville theatres. + He became an innocent but by no means uncritical connoisseur of their + attractions, and he surprised with the constancy and variety of his + experience in them a gentleman who sat next him one night. Boyne thought + him a person of cultivation, and consulted him upon the opinion he had + formed that there was not so much harm in such places as people said. The + gentleman distinguished in saying that he thought you would not find more + harm in them, if you did not bring it with you, than you would in the + legitimate theatres; and in the hope of further wisdom from him, Boyne + followed him out of the theatre and helped him on with his overcoat. The + gentleman walked home to his hotel with him, and professed a pleasure in + his acquaintance which he said he trusted they might sometime renew. + </p> + <p> + All at once the Kentons began to be acquainted in the hotel, as often + happens with people after they have long ridden up and down in the + elevator together in bonds of apparently perpetual strangeness. From one + friendly family their acquaintance spread to others until they were, + almost without knowing it, suddenly and simultaneously on smiling and then + on speaking terms with the people of every permanent table in the + dining-room. Lottie and Boyne burst the chains of the unnatural kindness + which bound them, and resumed their old relations of reciprocal censure. + He found a fellow of his own age in the apartment below, who had the same + country traditions and was engaged in a like inspection of the city; and + she discovered two girls on another floor, who said they received on + Saturdays and wanted her to receive with them. They made a tea for her, + and asked some real New Yorkers; and such a round of pleasant little + events began for her that Boyne was forced to call his mother’s attention + to the way Charlotte was going on with the young men whom she met and + frankly asked to call upon her without knowing anything about them; you + could not do that in New York, he said. + </p> + <p> + But by this time New York had gone to Mrs. Kenton’s head, too, and she was + less fitted to deal with Lottie than at home. Whether she had succeeded or + not in helping Ellen take her mind off herself, she had certainly freed + her own from introspection in a dream of things which had seemed + impossible before. She was in that moment of a woman’s life which has a + certain pathos for the intelligent witness, when, having reared her + children and outgrown the more incessant cares of her motherhood, she + sometimes reverts to her girlish impulses and ideals, and confronts the + remaining opportunities of life with a joyful hope unknown to our heavier + and sullener sex in its later years. It is this peculiar power of + rejuvenescence which perhaps makes so many women outlive their husbands, + who at the same age regard this world as an accomplished fact. Mrs. Kenton + had kept up their reading long after Kenton found himself too busy or too + tired for it; and when he came from his office at night and fell asleep + over the book she wished him to hear, she continued it herself, and told + him about it. When Ellen began to show the same taste, they read together, + and the mother was not jealous when the father betrayed that he was much + prouder of his daughter’s culture than his wife’s. She had her own + misgivings that she was not so modern as Ellen, and she accepted her + judgment in the case of some authors whom she did not like so well. + </p> + <p> + She now went about not only to all the places where she could make Ellen’s + amusement serve as an excuse, but to others when she could not coax or + compel the melancholy girl. She was as constant at matinees of one kind as + Boyne at another sort; she went to the exhibitions of pictures, and got + herself up in schools of painting; she frequented galleries, public and + private, and got asked to studio teas; she went to meetings and + conferences of aesthetic interest, and she paid an easy way to parlor + lectures expressive of the vague but profound ferment in women’s souls; + from these her presence in intellectual clubs was a simple and natural + transition. She met and talked with interesting people, and now and then + she got introduced to literary people. Once, in a book-store, she stood + next to a gentleman leaning over the same counter, whom a salesman + addressed by the name of a popular author, and she remained staring at him + breathless till he left the place. When she bragged of the prodigious + experience at home, her husband defied her to say how it differed from + meeting the lecturers who had been their guests in Tuskingum, and she + answered that none of them compared with this author; and, besides, a lion + in his own haunts was very different from a lion going round the country + on exhibition. Kenton thought that was pretty good, and owned that she had + got him there. + </p> + <p> + He laughed at her, to the children, but all the same she believed that she + was living in an atmosphere of culture, and with every breath she was + sensible of an intellectual expansion. She found herself in the enjoyment + of so wide and varied a sympathy with interests hitherto strange to her + experience that she could not easily make people believe she had never + been to Europe. Nearly every one she met had been several times, and took + it for granted that she knew the Continent as well as they themselves. + </p> + <p> + She denied it with increasing shame; she tried to make Kenton understand + how she felt, and she might have gone further if she had not seen how + homesick he was for Tuskingum. She did her best to coax him and scold him + into a share of the pleasure they were all beginning to have in New York. + She made him own that Ellen herself was beginning to be gayer; she + convinced him that his business was not suffering in his absence and that + he was the better from the complete rest he was having. She defied him, to + say, then, what was the matter with him, and she bitterly reproached + herself, in the event, for not having known that it was not homesickness + alone that was the trouble. When he was not going about with her, or doing + something to amuse the children, he went upon long, lonely walks, and came + home silent and fagged. He had given up smoking, and he did not care to + sit about in the office of the hotel where other old fellows passed the + time over their papers and cigars, in the heat of the glowing grates. They + looked too much like himself, with their air of unrecognized consequence, + and of personal loss in an alien environment. He knew from their dress and + bearing that they were country people, and it wounded him in a tender + place to realize that they had each left behind him in his own town an + authority and a respect which they could not enjoy in New York. Nobody + called them judge, or general, or doctor, or squire; nobody cared who they + were, or what they thought; Kenton did not care himself; but when he + missed one of them he envied him, for then he knew that he had gone back + to the soft, warm keeping of his own neighborhood, and resumed the + intelligent regard of a community he had grown up with. There were men in + New York whom Kenton had met in former years, and whom he had sometimes + fancied looking up; but he did not let them know he was in town, and then + he was hurt that they ignored him. He kept away from places where he was + likely to meet them; he thought that it must have come to them that he was + spending the winter in New York, and as bitterly as his nature would + suffer he resented the indifference of the Ohio Society to the presence of + an Ohio man of his local distinction. He had not the habit of clubs, and + when one of the pleasant younger fellows whom he met in the hotel offered + to put him up at one, he shrank from the courtesy shyly and almost dryly. + He had outlived the period of active curiosity, and he did not explore the + city as he world once have done. He had no resorts out of the hotel, + except the basements of the secondhand book-dealers. He haunted these, and + picked up copies of war histories and biographies, which, as fast as he + read them, he sent off to his son at Tuskingum, and had him put them away + with the documents for the life of his regiment. His wife could see, with + compassion if not sympathy, that he was fondly strengthening by these + means the ties that bound him to his home, and she silently proposed to go + back to it with him whenever he should say the word. + </p> + <p> + He had a mechanical fidelity, however, to their agreement that they should + stay till spring, and he made no sign of going, as the winter wore away to + its end, except to write out to Tuskingum minute instructions for getting + the garden ready. He varied his visits to the book-stalls by conferences + with seedsmen at their stores; and his wife could see that he had as keen + a satisfaction in despatching a rare find from one as from the other. + </p> + <p> + She forbore to make him realize that the situation had not changed, and + that they would be taking their daughter back to the trouble the girl + herself had wished to escape. She was trusting, with no definite hope, for + some chance of making him feel this, while Kenton was waiting with a kind + of passionate patience for the term of his exile, when he came in one day + in April from one of his long walks, and said he had been up to the Park + to see the blackbirds. But he complained of being tired, and he lay down + on his bed. He did not get up for dinner, and then it was six weeks before + he left his room. + </p> + <p> + He could not remember that he had ever been sick so long before, and he + was so awed by his suffering, which was severe but not serious, that when + his doctor said he thought a voyage to Europe would be good for him he + submitted too meekly for Mrs. Kenton. Her heart smote her for her guilty + joy in his sentence, and she punished herself by asking if it would not do + him more good to get back to the comfort and quiet of their own house. She + went to the length of saying that she believed his attack had been brought + on more by homesickness than anything else. But the doctor agreed rather + with her wish than her word, and held out that his melancholy was not the + cause but the effect of his disorder. Then she took courage and began + getting ready to go. She did not flag even in the dark hours when Kenton + got back his courage with his returning strength, and scoffed at the + notion of Europe, and insisted that as soon as they were in Tuskingum he + should be all right again. + </p> + <p> + She felt the ingratitude, not to say the perfidy, of his behavior, and she + fortified herself indignantly against it; but it was not her constant + purpose, or the doctor’s inflexible opinion, that prevailed with Kenton at + last a letter came one day for Ellen which she showed to her mother, and + which her mother, with her distress obscurely relieved by a sense of its + powerful instrumentality, brought to the girl’s father. It was from that + fellow, as they always called him, and it asked of the girl a hearing upon + a certain point in which, it had just come to his knowledge, she had + misjudged him. He made no claim upon her, and only urged his wish to right + himself with her because she was the one person in the whole world, after + his mother, for whose good opinion he cared. With some tawdriness of + sentiment, the letter was well worded; it was professedly written for the + sole purpose of knowing whether, when she came back to Tuskingum, she + would see him, and let him prove to her that he was not wholly unworthy of + the kindness she had shown him when he was without other friends. + </p> + <p> + “What does she say?” the judge demanded. + </p> + <p> + “What do you suppose?” his wife retorted. “She thinks she ought to see + him.” + </p> + <p> + “Very well, then. We will go to Europe.” + </p> + <p> + “Not on my account!” Mrs. Kenton consciously protested. + </p> + <p> + “No; not on your account, or mine, either. On Nelly’s account. Where is + she? I want to talk with her.” + </p> + <p> + “And I want to talk with you. She’s out, with Lottie; and when she comes + back I will tell her what you say. But I want to know what you think, + first.” + </p> + <p> + <a name="link2H_4_0003" id="link2H_4_0003"> + <!-- H2 anchor --> </a> + </p> + <div style="height: 4em;"> + <br /><br /><br /><br /> + </div> + <h2> + III. + </h2> + <p> + It was some time before they arrived at a common agreement as to what + Kenton thought, and when they reached it they decided that they must leave + the matter altogether to Ellen, as they had done before. They would never + force her to anything, and if, after all that her mother could say, she + still wished to see the fellow, they would not deny her. + </p> + <p> + When it came to this, Ellen was a long time silent, so long a time that + her mother was beginning restively to doubt whether she was going to speak + at all. Then she drew a long, silent breath. “I suppose I ought to despise + myself, momma, for caring for him, when he’s never really said that he + cared for me.” + </p> + <p> + “No, no,” her mother faltered. + </p> + <p> + “But I do, I do!” she gave way piteously. “I can’t help it! He doesn’t say + so, even now.” + </p> + <p> + “No, he doesn’t.” It hurt her mother to own the fact that alone gave her + hope. + </p> + <p> + The girl was a long time silent again before she asked, “Has poppa got the + tickets?” + </p> + <p> + “Why, he wouldn’t, Ellen, child, till he knew how you felt,” her mother + tenderly reproached her. + </p> + <p> + “He’d better not wait!” The tears ran silently down Ellen’s cheeks, and + her lips twitched a little between these words and the next; she spoke as + if it were still of her father, but her mother understood. “If he ever + does say so, don’t you speak a word to me, momma; and don’t you let + poppa.” + </p> + <p> + “No; indeed I won’t,” her mother promised. “Have we ever interfered, + Ellen? Have we ever tried to control you?” + </p> + <p> + “He WOULD have said so, if he hadn’t seen that everybody was against him.” + The mother bore without reply the ingratitude and injustice that she knew + were from the child’s pain and not from her will. “Where is his letter? + Give me his letter!” She nervously twitched it from her mother’s hand and + ran it into her pocket. She turned away to go and put off her hat, which + she still wore from coming in with Lottie; but she stopped and looked over + her shoulder at her mother. “I’m going to answer it, and I don’t want you + ever to ask me what I’ve said. Will you?” + </p> + <p> + “No, I won’t, Nelly.” + </p> + <p> + “Well, then!” + </p> + <p> + The next night she went with Boyne and Lottie to the apartment overhead to + spend their last evening with the young people there, who were going into + the country the next day. She came back without the others, who wished to + stay a little longer, as she said, with a look of gay excitement in her + eyes, which her mother knew was not happiness. Mrs. Kenton had an impulse + to sweep into her lap the lithograph plans of the steamer, and the passage + ticket which lay open on the table before herself and her husband. But it + was too late to hide them from Ellen. She saw them, and caught up the + ticket, and read it, and flung it down again. “Oh, I didn’t think you + would do it!” she burst out; and she ran away to her room, where they + could hear her sobbing, as they sat haggardly facing each other. + </p> + <p> + “Well, that settles it,” said Benton at last, with a hard gulp. + </p> + <p> + “Oh, I suppose so,” his wife assented. + </p> + <p> + On his part, now, he had a genuine regret for her disappointment from the + sad safety of the trouble that would keep them at home; and on her part + she could be glad of it if any sort of comfort could come out of it to + him. + </p> + <p> + “Till she says go,” he added, “we’ve got to stay.” + </p> + <p> + “Oh yes,” his wife responded. “The worst of it is, we can’t even go back + to Tuskingum.” He looked up suddenly at her, and she saw that he had not + thought of this. She made “Tchk!” in sheer amaze at him. + </p> + <p> + “We won’t cross that river till we come to it,” he said, sullenly, but + half-ashamed. The next morning the situation had not changed overnight, as + they somehow both crazily hoped it might, and at breakfast, which they had + at a table grown more remote from others with the thinning out of the + winter guests of the hotel, the father and mother sat down alone in + silence which was scarcely broken till Lottie and Boyne joined them. + </p> + <p> + “Where’s Ellen?” the boy demanded. + </p> + <p> + “She’s having her breakfast in her room,” Mrs. Kenton answered. + </p> + <p> + “She says she don’t want to eat anything,” Lottie reported. “She made the + man take it away again.” + </p> + <p> + The gloom deepened in the faces of the father and mother, but neither + spoke, and Boyne resumed the word again in a tone of philosophic + speculation. “I don’t see how I’m going to get along, with those European + breakfasts. They say you can’t get anything but cold meat or eggs; and + generally they don’t expect to give you anything but bread and butter with + your coffee. I don’t think that’s the way to start the day, do you, + poppa?” + </p> + <p> + Kenton seemed not to have heard, for he went on silently eating, and the + mother, who had not been appealed to, merely looked distractedly across + the table at her children. + </p> + <p> + “Mr. Plumpton says he’s coming down to see us off,” said Lottie, smoothing + her napkin in her lap. “Do you know the time of day when the boat sails, + momma?” + </p> + <p> + “Yes,” her brother broke in, “and if I had been momma I’d have boxed your + ears for the way you went on with him. You fairly teased him to come. The + way Lottie goes on with men is a shame, momma.” + </p> + <p> + “What time does the boat sail, momma!” Lottie blandly persisted. “I + promised to let Mr. Plumpton know.” + </p> + <p> + “Yes, so as to get a chance to write to him,” said Boyne. “I guess when he + sees your spelling!” + </p> + <p> + “Momma! Do wake up! What time does our steamer sail?” + </p> + <p> + A light of consciousness came into Mrs. Renton’s eyes at last, and she + sighed gently. “We’re not going, Lottie.” + </p> + <p> + “Not going! Why, but we’ve got the tickets, and I’ve told—” + </p> + <p> + “Your father has decided not to go, for the present. We may go later in + the summer, or perhaps in the fall.” + </p> + <p> + Boyne looked at his father’s troubled face, and said nothing, but Lottie + was not stayed from the expression of her feelings by any ill-timed + consideration for what her father’s might be. “I just know,” she fired, + “it’s something to do with that nasty Bittridge. He’s been a bitter dose + to this family! As soon as I saw Ellen have a letter I was sure it was + from him; and she ought to be ashamed. If I had played the simpleton with + such a fellow I guess you wouldn’t have let me keep you from going to + Europe very much. What is she going to do now? Marry him? Or doesn’t he + want her to?” + </p> + <p> + “Lottie!” said her mother, and her father glanced up at her with a face + that silenced her. + </p> + <p> + “When you’ve been half as good a girl as Ellen has been, in this whole + matter,” he said, darkly, “it will be time for you to complain of the way + you’ve been treated.” + </p> + <p> + “Oh yes, I know you like Ellen the best,” said the girl, defiantly. + </p> + <p> + “Don’t say such a thing, Lottie!” said her mother. “Your father loves all + his children alike, and I won’t have you talking so to him. Ellen has had + a great deal to bear, and she has behaved beautifully. If we are not going + to Europe it is because we have decided that it is best not to go, and I + wish to hear nothing more from you about it.” + </p> + <p> + “Oh yes! And a nice position it leaves me in, when I’ve been taking + good-bye of everybody! Well, I hope to goodness you won’t say anything + about it till the Plumptons get away. I couldn’t have the face to meet + them if you did.” + </p> + <p> + “It won’t be necessary to say anything; or you can say that we’ve merely + postponed our sailing. People are always doing that.” + </p> + <p> + “It’s not to be a postponement,” said Kenton, so sternly that no one + ventured to dispute him, the children because they were afraid of him, and + their mother because she was suffering for him. + </p> + <p> + At the steamship office, however, the authorities represented that it was + now so near the date of his sailing that they could not allow him to + relinquish his passages except at his own risk. They would try to sell his + ticket for him, but they could not take it back, and they could not + promise to sell it. There was reason in what they said, but if there had + been none, they had the four hundred dollars which Kenton had paid for his + five berths and they had at least the advantage of him in the argument by + that means. He put the ticket back in his pocket-book without attempting + to answer them, and deferred his decision till he could advise with his + wife, who, after he left the breakfast-table upon his errand to the + steamship office, had abandoned her children to their own devices, and + gone to scold Ellen for not eating. + </p> + <p> + She had not the heart to scold her when she found the girl lying face + downward in the pillow, with her thin arms thrown up through the coils and + heaps of her loose-flung hair. She was so alight that her figure scarcely + defined itself under the bedclothes; the dark hair, and the white, + outstretched arms seemed all there was of her. She did not stir, but her + mother knew she was not sleeping. “Ellen,” she said, gently, “you needn’t + be troubled about our going to Europe. Your father has gone down to the + steamship office to give back his ticket.” + </p> + <p> + The girl flashed her face round with nervous quickness. “Gone to give back + his ticket!” + </p> + <p> + “Yes, we decided it last night. He’s never really wanted to go, and—” + </p> + <p> + “But I don’t wish poppa to give up his ticket!” said Ellen. “He must get + it again. I shall die if I stay here, momma. We have got to go. Can’t you + understand that?” + </p> + <p> + Mrs. Kenton did not know what to answer. She had a strong superficial + desire to shake her daughter as a naughty child which has vexed its + mother, but under this was a stir stronger pity for her as a woman, which + easily, prevailed. “Why, but, Ellen dear! We thought from what you said + last night—” + </p> + <p> + “But couldn’t you SEE,” the girl reproached her, and she began to cry, and + turned her face into the pillow again and lay sobbing. + </p> + <p> + “Well,” said her mother, after she had given her a little time, “you + needn’t be troubled. Your father can easily get the ticket again; he can + telephone down for it. Nothing has been done yet. But didn’t you really + want to stay, then?” + </p> + <p> + “It isn’t whether I want to stay or not,” Ellen spoke into her pillow. + “You know that. You know that I have got to go. You know that if I saw him—Oh, + why do you make me talk?” + </p> + <p> + “Yes, I understand, child.” Then, in the imperious necessity of blaming + some one, Mrs. Kenton added: “You know how it is with your father. He is + always so precipitate; and when he heard what you said, last night, it cut + him to the heart. He felt as if he were dragging you away, and this + morning he could hardly wait to get through his breakfast before he rushed + down to the steamship office. But now it’s all right again, and if you + want to go, we’ll go, and your father will only be too glad.” + </p> + <p> + “I don’t want father to go against his will. You said he never wanted to + go to Europe.” The girl had turned her face upon her mother again; and + fixed her with her tearful, accusing eyes. + </p> + <p> + “The doctors say he ought to go. He needs the change, and I think we + should all be the better far getting away.” + </p> + <p> + “I shall not,” said Ellen. “But if I don’t—” + </p> + <p> + “Yes,” said her mother, soothingly. + </p> + <p> + “You know that nothing has changed. He hasn’t changed and I haven’t. If he + was bad, he’s as bad as ever, and I’m just as silly. Oh, it’s like a + drunkard! I suppose they know it’s killing them, but they can’t give it + up! Don’t you think it’s very strange, momma? I don’t see why I should be + so. It seems as if I had no character at all, and I despise myself so! Do + you believe I shall ever get over it? Sometimes I think the best thing for + me would be to go into an asylum.” + </p> + <p> + “Oh yes, dear; you’ll get over it, and forget it all. As soon as you see + others—other scenes—and get interested—” + </p> + <p> + “And you don’t you don’t think I’d better let him come, and—” + </p> + <p> + “Ellen!” + </p> + <p> + Ellen began to sob again, and toss her head upon the pillow. “What shall I + do? What shall I do?” she wailed. “He hasn’t ever done anything bad to me, + and if I can overlook his—his flirting—with that horrid thing, + I don’t know what the rest of you have got to say. And he says he can + explain everything. Why shouldn’t I give him the chance, momma? I do think + it is acting very cruel not to let him even say a word.” + </p> + <p> + “You can see him if you wish, Ellen,” said her mother, gravely. “Your + father and I have always said that. And perhaps it would be the best + thing, after all.” + </p> + <p> + “Oh, you say that because you think that if I did see him, I should be so + disgusted with him that I’d never want to speak to him again. But what if + I shouldn’t?” + </p> + <p> + “Then we should wish you to do whatever you thought was for your + happiness, Ellen. We can’t believe it would be for your good; but if it + would be for your happiness, we are willing. Or, if you don’t think it’s + for your happiness, but only for his, and you wish to do it, still we + shall be willing, and you know that as far as your father and I are + concerned, there will never be a word of reproach—not a whisper.” + </p> + <p> + “Lottie would despise me; and what would Richard say?” + </p> + <p> + “Richard would never say anything to wound you, dear, and if you don’t + despise yourself, you needn’t mind Lottie.” + </p> + <p> + “But I should, momma; that’s the worst of it! I should despise myself, and + he would despise me too. No, if I see him, I am going to do it because I + am selfish and wicked, and wish to have my own way, no matter who is + harmed by it, or—anything; and I’m not going to have it put on any + other ground. I could see him,” she said, as if to herself, “just once + more—only once more—and then if I didn’t believe in him, I + could start right off to Europe.” + </p> + <p> + Her mother made no answer to this, and Ellen lay awhile apparently + forgetful of her presence, inwardly dramatizing a passionate scene of + dismissal between herself and her false lover. She roused herself from the + reverie with a long sigh, and her mother said, “Won’t you have some + breakfast, now; Ellen?” + </p> + <p> + “Yes; and I will get up. You needn’t be troubled any more about me, momma. + I will write to him not to come, and poppa must go back and get his ticket + again.” + </p> + <p> + “Not unless you are doing this of your own free will, child. I can’t have + you feeling that we are putting any pressure upon you.” + </p> + <p> + “You’re not. I’m doing it of my own will. If it isn’t my free will, that + isn’t your fault. I wonder whose fault it is? Mine, or what made me so + silly and weak?” + </p> + <p> + “You are not silly and weak,” said her mother, fondly, and she bent over + the girl and would have kissed her, but Ellen averted her face with a + piteous “Don’t!” and Mrs. Kenton went out and ordered her breakfast + brought back. + </p> + <p> + She did not go in to make her eat it, as she would have done in the + beginning of the girl’s trouble; they had all learned how much better she + was for being left to fight her battles with herself singlehanded. Mrs. + Kenton waited in the parlor till her husband same in, looking gloomy and + tired. He put his hat down and sank into a chair without speaking. “Well?” + she said. + </p> + <p> + “We have got to lose the price of the ticket, if we give it back. I + thought I had better talk with you first,” said Kenton, and he explained + the situation. + </p> + <p> + “Then you had better simply have it put off till the next steamer. I have + been talking with Ellen, and she doesn’t want to stay. She wants to go.” + His wife took advantage of Kenton’s mute amaze (in the nervous vagaries + even of the women nearest him a man learns nothing from experience) to put + her own interpretation on the case, which, as it was creditable to the + girl’s sense and principle, he found acceptable if not imaginable. “And if + you will take my advice,” she ended, “you will go quietly back to the + steamship office and exchange your ticket for the next steamer, or the one + after that, if you can’t get good rooms, and give Ellen time to get over + this before she leaves. It will be much better for her to conquer herself + than to run away, for that would always give her a feeling of shame, and + if she decides before she goes, it will strengthen her pride and + self-respect, and there will be less danger—when we come back.” + </p> + <p> + “Do you think he’s going to keep after her!” + </p> + <p> + “How can I tell? He will if he thinks it’s to his interest, or he can make + anybody miserable by it.” + </p> + <p> + Kenton said nothing to this, but after a while he suggested, rather + timorously, as if it were something he could not expect her to approve, + and was himself half ashamed of, “I believe if I do put it off, I’ll run + out to Tuskingum before we sail, and look after a little matter of + business that I don’t think Dick can attend to so well.” + </p> + <p> + His wife knew why he wanted to go, and in her own mind she had already + decided that if he should ever propose to go, she should not gainsay him. + She had, in fact, been rather surprised that he had not proposed it before + this, and now she assented, without taxing him with his real motive, and + bringing him to open disgrace before her. She even went further in saying: + “Very well, then you had better go. I can get on very well here, and I + think it will leave Ellen freer to act for herself if you are away. And + there are some things in the house that I want, and that Richard would be + sure to send his wife to get if I asked him, and I won’t have her + rummaging around in my closets. I suppose you will want to go into the + house?” + </p> + <p> + “I suppose so,” said Renton, who had not let a day pass, since he left his + house, without spending half his homesick time in it. His wife suffered + his affected indifference to go without exposure, and trumped up a + commission for him, which would take him intimately into the house. + </p> + <p> + <a name="link2H_4_0004" id="link2H_4_0004"> + <!-- H2 anchor --> </a> + </p> + <div style="height: 4em;"> + <br /><br /><br /><br /> + </div> + <h2> + IV + </h2> + <p> + The piety of his son Richard had maintained the place at Tuskingum in + perfect order outwardly, and Kenton’s heart ached with tender pain as he + passed up the neatly kept walk from the gate, between the blooming ranks + of syringas and snowballs, to his door, and witnessed the faithful care + that Richard’s hired man had bestowed upon every detail. The grass between + the banks of roses and rhododendrons had been as scrupulously lawn-mowered + and as sedulously garden-hosed as if Kenton himself had been there to look + after its welfare, or had tended the shrubbery as he used to do in earlier + days with his own hand. The oaks which he had planted shook out their + glossy green in the morning gale, and in the tulip-trees, which had snowed + their petals on the ground in wide circles defined by the reach of their + branches, he heard the squirrels barking; a red-bird from the woody depths + behind the house mocked the cat-birds in the quince-trees. The June rose + was red along the trellis of the veranda, where Lottie ought to be sitting + to receive the morning calls of the young men who were sometimes quite as + early as Kenton’s present visit in their devotions, and the sound of + Ellen’s piano, played fitfully and absently in her fashion, ought to be + coming out irrespective of the hour. It seemed to him that his wife must + open the door as his steps and his son’s made themselves heard on the walk + between the box borders in their upper orchard, and he faltered a little. + </p> + <p> + “Look here, father,” said his son, detecting his hesitation. “Why don’t + you let Mary come in with you, and help you find those things?” + </p> + <p> + “No, no,” said Kenton, sinking into one of the wooden seats that flanked + the door-way. “I promised your mother that I would get them myself. You + know women don’t like to have other women going through their houses.” + </p> + <p> + “Yes, but Mary!” his son urged. + </p> + <p> + “Ah! It’s just Mary, with her perfect housekeeping, that your mother + wouldn’t like to have see the way she left things,” said Kenton, and he + smiled at the notion of any one being housekeeper enough to find a flaw in + his wife’s. “My, but this is pleasant!” he added. He took off his hat and + let the breeze play through the lank, thin hair which was still black on + his fine, high forehead. He was a very handsome old man, with a delicate + aquiline profile, of the perfect Roman type which is perhaps oftener found + in America than ever it was in Rome. “You’ve kept it very nice, Dick,” he + said, with a generalizing wave of his hat. + </p> + <p> + “Well, I couldn’t tell whether you would be coming back or not, and I + thought I had better be ready for you.” + </p> + <p> + “I wish we were,” said the old man, “and we shall be, in the fall, or the + latter part of the summer. But it’s better now that we should go—on + Ellen’s account.” + </p> + <p> + “Oh, you’ll enjoy it,” his son evaded him. + </p> + <p> + “You haven’t seen anything of him lately?” Kenton suggested. + </p> + <p> + “He wasn’t likely to let me see anything of him,” returned the son. + </p> + <p> + “No,” said the father. “Well!” He rose to put the key into the door, and + his son stepped down from the little porch to the brick walk. + </p> + <p> + “Mary will have dinner early, father; and when you’ve got through here, + you’d better come over and lie down a while beforehand.” + </p> + <p> + Kenton had been dropped at eight o’clock from a sleeper on the Great + Three, and had refused breakfast at his son’s house, upon the plea that + the porter had given him a Southern cantaloupe and a cup of coffee on the + train, and he was no longer hungry. + </p> + <p> + “All right,” he said. “I won’t be longer than I can help.” He had got the + door open and was going to close it again. + </p> + <p> + His son laughed. “Better not shut it, father. It will let the fresh air + in.” + </p> + <p> + “Oh, all right,” said the old man. + </p> + <p> + The son lingered about, giving some orders to the hired man in the + vegetable garden, for an excuse, in the hope that his father might change + his mind and ask him to come into the house with him; he felt it so + forlorn for him to be going through those lifeless rooms alone. When he + looked round, and saw his father holding the door ajar, as if impatiently + waiting for him to be gone, he laughed and waved his hand to him. “All + right, father? I’m going now.” But though he treated the matter so lightly + with his father, he said grimly to his wife, as he passed her on their own + porch, on his way to his once, “I don’t like to think of father being + driven out of house and home this way.” + </p> + <p> + “Neither do I, Dick. But it can’t be helped, can it?” + </p> + <p> + “I think I could help it, if I got my hands on that fellow once.” + </p> + <p> + “No, you couldn’t, Dick. It’s not he that’s doing it. It’s Ellen; you know + that well enough; and you’ve just got to stand it.” + </p> + <p> + “Yes, I suppose so,” said Richard Kenton. + </p> + <p> + “Of course, my heart aches for your poor old father, but so it would if + Ellen had some kind of awful sickness. It is a kind of sickness, and you + can’t fight it any more than if she really was sick.” + </p> + <p> + “No,” said the husband, dejectedly. “You just slip over there, after a + while, Mary, if father’s gone too long, will you? I don’t like to have him + there alone.” + </p> + <p> + “‘Deed and ‘deed I won’t, Dick. He wouldn’t like it at all, my spying + round. Nothing can happen to him, and I believe your mother’s just made an + excuse to send him after something, so that he can be in there alone, and + realize that the house isn’t home any more. It will be easier for him to + go to Europe when he finds that out. I believe in my heart that was her + idea in not wanting me to find the things for him, and I’m not going to + meddle myself.” + </p> + <p> + With the fatuity of a man in such things, and with the fatuity of age + regarding all the things of the past, Kenton had thought in his + homesickness of his house as he used to be in it, and had never been able + to picture it without the family life. As he now walked through the empty + rooms, and up and down the stairs, his pulse beat low as if in the + presence of death. Everything was as they had left it, when they went out + of the house, and it appeared to Kenton that nothing had been touched + there since, though when he afterwards reported to his wife that there was + not a speck of dust anywhere she knew that Mary had been going through the + house, in their absence, not once only, but often, and she felt a pang of + grateful jealousy. He got together the things that Mrs. Kenton had + pretended to want, and after glancing in at the different rooms, which + seemed to be lying stealthily in wait for him, with their emptiness and + silence, he went down-stairs with the bundle he had made, and turned into + his library. He had some thought of looking at the collections for his + history, but, after pulling open one of the drawers in which they were + stored, he pushed it to again, and sank listlessly into his + leather-covered swivel-chair, which stood in its place before the wide + writing-table, and seemed to have had him in it before he sat down. The + table was bare, except for the books and documents which he had sent home + from time to time during the winter, and which Richard or his wife had + neatly arranged there without breaking their wraps. He let fall his bundle + at his feet, and sat staring at the ranks of books against the wall, + mechanically relating them to the different epochs of the past in which he + or his wife or his children had been interested in them, and aching with + tender pain. He had always supposed himself a happy and strong and + successful man, but what a dreary ruin his life had fallen into! Was it to + be finally so helpless and powerless (for with all the defences about him + that a man can have, he felt himself fatally vulnerable) that he had + fought so many years? Why, at his age, should he be going into exile, away + from everything that could make his days bright and sweet? Why could not + he come back there, where he was now more solitary than he could be + anywhere else on earth, and reanimate the dead body of his home with his + old life? He knew why, in an immediate sort, but his quest was for the + cause behind the cause. What had he done, or left undone? He had tried to + be a just man, and fulfil all his duties both to his family and to his + neighbors; he had wished to be kind, and not to harm any one; he reflected + how, as he had grown older, the dread of doing any unkindness had grown + upon him, and how he had tried not to be proud, but to walk meekly and + humbly. Why should he be punished as he was, stricken in a place so sacred + that the effort to defend himself had seemed a kind of sacrilege? He could + not make it out, and he was not aware of the tears of self-pity that stole + slowly down his face, though from time to time he wiped them away. + </p> + <p> + He heard steps in the hall without, advancing and pausing, which must be + those of his son coming back for him, and with these advances and pauses + giving him notice of his approach; but he did not move, and at first he + did not look up when the steps arrived at the threshold of the room where + he sat. When he lifted his eyes at last he saw Bittridge lounging in the + door-way, with one shoulder supported against the door-jamb, his hands in + his pockets and his hat pushed well back on his forehead. In an instant + all Kenton’s humility and soft repining were gone. “Well, what is it?” he + called. + </p> + <p> + “Oh,” said Bittridge, coming forward. He laughed and explained, “Didn’t + know if you recognized me.” + </p> + <p> + “I recognized you,” said Kenton, fiercely. “What is it you want?” + </p> + <p> + “Well, I happened to be passing, and I saw the door open, and I thought + maybe Dick was here.” + </p> + <p> + It was on Kenton’s tongue to say that it was a good thing for him Dick was + not there. But partly the sense that this would be unbecoming bluster, and + partly the suffocating resentment of the fellow’s impudence, limited his + response to a formless gasp, and Bittridge went on: “But I’m glad to find + you here, judge. I didn’t know that you were in town. Family all well in + New York?” He was not quelled by the silence of the judge on this point, + but, as if he had not expected any definite reply to what might well pass + for formal civility, he now looked aslant into his breast-pocket from + which he drew a folded paper. “I just got hold of a document this morning + that I think will interest you. I was bringing it round to Dick’s wife for + you.” The intolerable familiarity of all this was fast working Kenton to a + violent explosion, but he contained himself, and Bittridge stepped forward + to lay the paper on the table before him. “It’s the original roster of + Company C, in your regiment, and—” + </p> + <p> + “Take it away!” shouted Kenton, “and take yourself away with it!” and he + grasped the stick that shook in his hand. + </p> + <p> + A wicked light came into Bittridge’s eye as he drawled, in lazy scorn, + “Oh, I don’t know.” Then his truculence broke in a malicious amusement. + “Why, judge, what’s the matter?” He put on a face of mock gravity, and + Kenton knew with helpless fury that he was enjoying his vantage. He could + fall upon him and beat him with his stick, leaving the situation otherwise + undefined, but a moment’s reflection convinced Kenton that this would not + do. It made him sick to think of striking the fellow, as if in that act he + should be striking Ellen, too. It did not occur to him that he could be + physically worsted, or that his vehement age would be no match for the + other’s vigorous youth. All he thought was that it would not avail, except + to make known to every one what none but her dearest could now conjecture. + Bittridge could then publicly say, and doubtless would say, that he had + never made love to Ellen; that if there had been any love-making it was + all on her side; and that he had only paid her the attentions which any + young man might blamelessly pay a pretty girl. This would be true to the + facts in the case, though it was true also that he had used every tacit + art to make her believe him in love with her. But how could this truth be + urged, and to whom? So far the affair had been quite in the hands of + Ellen’s family, and they had all acted for the best, up to the present + time. They had given Bittridge no grievance in making him feel that he was + unwelcome in their house, and they were quite within their rights in going + away, and making it impossible for him to see her again anywhere in + Tuskingum. As for his seeing her in New York, Ellen had but to say that + she did not wish it, and that would end it. Now, however, by treating him + rudely, Kenton was aware that he had bound himself to render Bittridge + some account of his behavior throughout, if the fellow insisted upon it. + </p> + <p> + “I want nothing to do with you, sir,” he said, less violently, but, as he + felt, not more effectually. “You are in my house without my invitation, + and against my wish!” + </p> + <p> + “I didn’t expect to find you here. I came in because I saw the door open, + and I thought I might see Dick or his wife and give them, this paper for + you. But I’m glad I found you, and if you won’t give me any reason for not + wanting me here, I can give it myself, and I think I can make out a very + good case for you.” Kenton quivered in anticipation of some mention of + Ellen, and Bittridge smiled as if he understood. But he went on to say: “I + know that there were things happened after you first gave me the run of + your house that might make you want to put up the bars again—if they + were true. But they were not true. And I can prove that by the best of all + possible witnesses—by Uphill himself. He stands shoulder to shoulder + with me, to make it hot for any one who couples his wife’s name with + mine.” + </p> + <p> + “Humph!” Kenton could not help making this comment, and Bittridge, being + what he was, could not help laughing. + </p> + <p> + “What’s the use?” he asked, recovering himself. “I don’t pretend that I + did right, but you know there wasn’t any harm in it. And if there had been + I should have got the worst of it. Honestly, judge, I couldn’t tell you + how much I prized being admitted to your house on the terms I was. Don’t + you think I could appreciate the kindness you all showed me? Before you + took me up, I was alone in Tuskingum, but you opened every door in the + place for me. You made it home to me; and you won’t believe it, of course, + because you’re prejudiced; but I felt like a son and brother to you all. I + felt towards Mrs. Kenton just as I do towards my own mother. I lost the + best friends I ever had when you turned against me. Don’t you suppose I’ve + seen the difference here in Tuskingum? Of course, the men pass the time of + day with me when we meet, but they don’t look me up, and there are more + near-sighted girls in this town!” Kenton could not keep the remote dawn of + a smile out of his eyes, and Bittridge caught the far-off gleam. “And + everybody’s been away the whole winter. Not a soul at home, anywhere, and + I had to take my chance of surprising Mrs. Dick Kenton when I saw your + door open here.” He laughed forlornly, as the gleam faded out of Kenton’s + eye again. “And the worst of it is that my own mother isn’t at home to me, + figuratively speaking, when I go over to see her at Ballardsville. She got + wind of my misfortune, somehow, and when I made a clean breast of it to + her, she said she could never feel the same to me till I had made it all + right with the Kentons. And when a man’s own mother is down on him, + judge!” + </p> + <p> + Bittridge left Kenton to imagine the desperate case, and in spite of his + disbelief in the man and all he said, Kenton could not keep his hardness + of heart towards him. “I don’t know what you’re after, young man,” he + began. “But if you expect me to receive you under my roof again—” + </p> + <p> + “Oh, I don’t, judge, I don’t!” Bittridge interposed. “All I want is to be + able to tell my mother—I don’t care for anybody else—that I + saw you, and you allowed me to say that I was truly sorry for the pain—if + it was pain; or annoyance, anyway—that I had caused you, and to go + back to her with the hope of atoning for it sometime or somehow. That’s + all.” + </p> + <p> + “Look here!” cried Renton. “What have you written to my daughter for?” + </p> + <p> + “Wasn’t that natural? I prized her esteem more than I do yours even; but + did I ask her anything more than I’ve asked you? I didn’t expect her to + answer me; all I wanted was to have her believe that I wasn’t as black as + I was painted—not inside, anyway. You know well enough—anybody + knows—that I would rather have her think well of me than any one + else in this world, except my mother. I haven’t got the gift of showing + out what’s good in me, if there is any good, but I believe Miss Ellen + would want to think well of me if I gave her a chance. If ever there was + an angel on earth, she’s one. I don’t deny that I was hopeful of mercy + from her, because she can’t think evil, but I can lay my hand on my heart + and say that I wasn’t selfish in my hopes. It seemed to me that it was her + due to understand that a man whom she had allowed to be her friend wasn’t + altogether unworthy. That’s as near as I can come to putting into words + the motive I had in writing to her. I can’t even begin to put into words + the feeling I have towards her. It’s as if she was something sacred.” + </p> + <p> + This was the feeling Renton himself had towards his daughter, and for the + first time he found himself on common ground with the scapegrace who + professed it, and whose light, mocking face so little enforced his + profession. If Bittridge could have spoken in the dark, his words might + have carried a conviction of his sincerity, but there, in plain day, + confronting the father of Ellen, who had every wish to believe him true, + the effect was different. Deep within his wish to think the man honest, + Kenton recoiled from him. He vaguely perceived that it was because she + could not think evil that this wretch had power upon her, and he was + sensible, as he had not been before, that she had no safety from him + except in absence. He did not know what to answer; he could not repel him + in open terms, and still less could he meet him with any words that would + allow him to resume his former relations with his family. He said, + finally: “We will let matters stand. We are going to Europe in a week, and + I shall not see you again. I will tell Mrs. Kenton what you say.” + </p> + <p> + “Thank you, judge. And tell her that I appreciate your kindness more than + I can say!” The judge rose from his chair and went towards the window, + which he had thrown open. “Going to shut up? Let me help you with that + window; it seems to stick. Everything fast up-stairs?” + </p> + <p> + “I—I think so,” Kenton hesitated. + </p> + <p> + “I’ll just run up and look,” said Bittridge, and he took the stairs two at + a time, before Kenton could protest, when they came out into the hall + together. “It’s all right,” he reported on his quick return. “I’ll just + look round below here,” and he explored the ground-floor rooms in turn. + “No, you hadn’t opened any other window,” he said, glancing finally into + the library. “Shall I leave this paper on your table?” + </p> + <p> + “Yes, leave it there,” said Kenton, helplessly, and he let Bittridge close + the front door after him, and lock it. + </p> + <p> + “I hope Miss Lottie is well,” he suggested in handing the key to Kenton. + “And Boyne” he added, with the cordiality of an old family friend. “I hope + Boyne has got reconciled to New York a little. He was rather anxious about + his pigeons when he left, I understand. But I guess Dick’s man has looked + after them. I’d have offered to take charge of the cocoons myself if I’d + had a chance.” He walked, gayly chatting, across the intervening lawn with + Kenton to his son’s door, where at sight of him bra. Richard Kenton + evanesced into the interior so obviously that Bittridge could not offer to + come in. “Well, I shall see you all when you come back in the fall, judge, + and I hope you’ll have a pleasant voyage and a good time in Europe.” + </p> + <p> + “Thank you,” said Kenton, briefly. + </p> + <p> + “Remember me to the ladies!” and Bittridge took off his hat with his left + hand, while he offered the judge his right. “Well, good-bye!” + </p> + <p> + Kenton made what response he could, and escaped in-doors, where his + daughter-in-law appeared from the obscurity into which she had retired + from Bittridge. “Well, that follow does beat all! How, in the world did he + find you, father?” + </p> + <p> + “He came into the house,” said the judge, much abashed at his failure to + deal adequately with Bittridge. He felt it the more in the presence of his + son’s wife. “I couldn’t, seem to get rid of him in any way short of + kicking him out.” + </p> + <p> + “No, there’s nothing equal to his impudence. I do believe he would have + come in here, if he hadn’t seen me first. Did you tell him when you were + going back, father? Because he’d be at the train to see you off, just as + sure!” + </p> + <p> + “No, I didn’t tell him,” said Kenton, feeling move shaken now from the + interview with Bittridge than he had realized before. He was ashamed to + let Mary know that he had listened to Bittridge’s justification, which he + now perceived was none, and he would have liked to pretend that he had not + silently condoned his offences, but Mary did not drive him to these + deceptions by any further allusions to Bittridge. + </p> + <p> + “Well, now, you must go into the sitting-room and lie down on the lounge; + I promised Dick to make you. Or would you rather go up-stairs to your + room?” + </p> + <p> + “I think I’ll go to my room,” said Kenton. + </p> + <p> + He was asleep there on the bed when Richard came home to dinner and looked + softly in. He decided not to wake him, and Mary said the sleep would do + him more good than the dinner. At table they talked him over, and she told + her husband what she knew of the morning’s adventure. + </p> + <p> + “That was pretty tough for father,” said Richard. “I wouldn’t go into the + house with him, because I knew he wanted to have it to himself; and then + to think of that dirty hound skulking in! Well, perhaps it’s for the best. + It will make it easier, for father to go and leave the place, and they’ve + got to go. They’ve got to put the Atlantic Ocean between Ellen and that + fellow.” + </p> + <p> + “It does seem as if something might be done,” his wife rebelled. + </p> + <p> + “They’ve done the best that could be done,” said Richard. “And if that + skunk hasn’t got some sort of new hold upon father, I shall be satisfied. + The worst of it is that it will be all over town in an hour that Bittridge + has made up with us. I don’t blame father; he couldn’t help it; he never + could be rude to anybody.” + </p> + <p> + “I think I’ll try if I can’t be rude to Mr. Bittridge, if he ever + undertakes to show in my pretence that he has made it up with us,” said + Mary. + </p> + <p> + Richard tenderly found out from his father’s shamefaced reluctance, later, + that no great mischief had been done. But no precaution on his part + availed to keep Bittridge from demonstrating the good feeling between + himself and the Kentons when the judge started for New York the next + afternoon. He was there waiting to see him off, and he all but took the + adieus out of Richard’s hands. He got possession of the judge’s valise, + and pressed past the porter into the sleeping-car with it, and remained + lounging on the arm of the judge’s seat, making conversation with him and + Richard till the train began to move. Then he ran outside, and waved his + hand to the judge’s window in farewell, before all that leisure of + Tuskingum which haunted the arrival and departure of the trains. + </p> + <p> + Mary Kenton was furious when her husband came home and reported the fact + to her. + </p> + <p> + “How in the world did he find out when father was going?” + </p> + <p> + “He must have come to all the through trains since he say him yesterday. + But I think even you would have been suited, Mary, if you had seen his + failure to walk off from the depot arm-in-arm with me: + </p> + <p> + “I wouldn’t have been suited with anything short of your knocking, him + down, Dick.” + </p> + <p> + “Oh, that wouldn’t have done,” said Richard. After a while he added, + patiently, “Ellen is making a good deal of trouble for us.” + </p> + <p> + This was what Mary was thinking herself, and it was what she might have + said, but since Dick had said it she was obliged to protest. “She isn’t to + blame for it.” + </p> + <p> + “Oh, I know she isn’t to blame.” + </p> + <p> + <a name="link2H_4_0005" id="link2H_4_0005"> + <!-- H2 anchor --> </a> + </p> + <div style="height: 4em;"> + <br /><br /><br /><br /> + </div> + <h2> + V. + </h2> + <p> + The father of the unhappy girl was of the same mixed mind as he rode + sleeplessly back to New York in his berth, and heard the noises of slumber + all round him. From time to time he groaned softly, and turned from one + cheek to the other. Every half-hour or so he let his window-curtain fly + up, and lay watching the landscape fleeting past; and then he pulled the + curtain down again and tried to sleep. After passing Albany he dozed, but + at Poughkeepsie a zealous porter called him by mistake, and the rest of + the way to New York he sat up in the smoking-room. It seemed a long while + since he had drowsed; the thin nap had not rested him, and the old face + that showed itself in the glass, with the frost of a two days’ beard on + it, was dry-eyed and limply squared by the fall of the muscles at the + corners of the chin. + </p> + <p> + He wondered how he should justify to his wife the thing which he felt as + accountable for having happened to him as if he could have prevented it. + It would not have happened, of course, if he had not gone to Tuskingum, + and she could say that to him; now it seemed to him that his going, which + had been so imperative before he went, was altogether needless. Nothing + but harm had come of it, and it had been a selfish indulgence of a + culpable weakness. + </p> + <p> + It was a little better for Kenton when he found himself with his family, + and they went down together to the breakfast which the mother had engaged + the younger children to make as pleasant as they could for their father, + and not worry him with talk about Tuskingum. They had, in fact, got over + their first season of homesickness, and were postponing their longing for + Tuskingum till their return from Europe, when they would all go straight + out there. Kenton ran the gauntlet of welcome from the black elevator-boys + and bell-boys and the head-waiter, who went before him to pull out the + judge’s chair, with commanding frowns to his underlings to do the like for + the rest of the family; and as his own clumsy Irish waiter stood behind + his chair, breathing heavily upon the judge’s head, he gave his order for + breakfast, with a curious sense of having got home again from some strange + place. He satisfied Boyne that his pigeons and poultry had been well cared + for through the winter, and he told Lottie that he had not met much of + anybody except Dick’s family, before he recollected seeing half a dozen of + her young men at differed times. She was not very exacting about them and + her mind seemed set upon Europe, or at least she talked of nothing else. + Ellen was quiet as she always was, but she smiled gently on her father, + and Mrs. Kenton told him of the girl’s preparations for going, and + congratulated herself on their wisdom in having postponed their sailing, + in view of all they had to do; and she made Kenton feel that everything + was in the best possible shape. As soon as she got him alone in their own + room, she said, “Well, what is it, poppa?” + </p> + <p> + Then he had to tell her, and she listened with ominous gravity. She did + not say that now he could see how much better it would have been if he had + not gone, but she made him say it for her; and she would not let him take + comfort in the notion of keeping the fact of his interview with Bittridge + from Ellen. “It would be worse than useless. He will write to her about + it, and then she will know that we have been, concealing it.” + </p> + <p> + Kenton was astonished at himself for not having thought of that. “And what + are you going to do, Sarah?” + </p> + <p> + “I am going to tell her,” said Mrs. Kenton. + </p> + <p> + “Why didn’t poppa tell me before?” the girl perversely demanded, as soon + as her another had done so. + </p> + <p> + “Ellen, you are a naughty child! I have a great mind not to have a word + more to say to you. Your father hasn’t been in the house an hour. Did you + want him to speak before Lottie and Boyne!” + </p> + <p> + “I don’t see why he didn’t tell me himself. I know there is something you + are keeping back. I know there is some word—” + </p> + <p> + “Oh, you poor girl!” said her mother, melting into pity against all sense + of duty. “Have we ever tried to deceive you?” + </p> + <p> + “No,” Ellen sobbed, with her face in her hands. “Now I will tell you every + word that passed,” said Mrs. Kenton, and she told, as well as she could + remember, all that the judge had repeated from Bittridge. “I don’t say he + isn’t ashamed of himself,” she commented at the end. “He ought to be, and, + of course, he would be glad to be in with us again when we go back; but + that doesn’t alter his character, Ellen. Still, if you can’t see that + yourself, I don’t want to make you, and if you would rather go home to + Tuskingum, we will give up the trip to Europe.” + </p> + <p> + “It’s too late to do that now,” said the girl, in cruel reproach. + </p> + <p> + Her mother closed her lips resolutely till she could say, “Or you can + write to him if you want to.” + </p> + <p> + “I don’t want to,” said Ellen, and she dragged herself up out of her + chair, and trailed slowly out of the room without looking at her mother. + </p> + <p> + “Well?” the judge asked, impatiently, when he came in as soon after this + as he decently could. They observed forms with regard to talking about + Ellen which, after all, were rather for themselves than for her; Mrs. + Kenton, at least, knew that the girl knew when they were talking about + her. + </p> + <p> + “She took it as well as I expected.” + </p> + <p> + “What is she going to do?” + </p> + <p> + “She didn’t say. But I don’t believe she will do anything.” + </p> + <p> + “I wish I had taken our tickets for next Saturday,” said Kenton. + </p> + <p> + “Well, we must wait now,” said his wife. “If he doesn’t write to her, she + won’t write to him.” + </p> + <p> + “Has she ever answered that letter of his?” + </p> + <p> + “No, and I don’t believe she will now.” + </p> + <p> + That night Ellen came to her mother and said she need not be afraid of her + writing to Bittridge. “He hasn’t changed, if he was wrong, by coming and + saying those things to poppa, and nothing has changed.” + </p> + <p> + “That is the way I hoped you would see it; Ellen.” Her mother looked + wistfully at her, but the girl left her without letting her satisfy the + longing in the mother’s heart to put her arms round her child, and pull + her head down upon her breast for a cry. + </p> + <p> + Kenton slept better that night than his wife, who was kept awake by a + formless foreboding. For the week that followed she had the sense of + literally pushing the hours away, so that at times she found herself + breathless, as if from some heavy physical exertion. At such times she was + frantic with the wish to have the days gone, and the day of their sailing + come, but she kept her impatience from her husband and children, and + especially from Ellen. The girl was passive enough; she was almost + willing, and in the preparation for their voyage she did her share of the + shopping, and discussed the difficult points of this business with her + mother and sister as if she had really been thinking about it all. But her + mother doubted if she had, and made more of Ellen’s sunken eyes and thin + face than of her intelligent and attentive words. It was these that she + reported to her husband, whom she kept from talking with Ellen, and + otherwise quelled. + </p> + <p> + “Let her alone,” she insisted, one morning of the last week. “What can you + do by speaking to her about it? Don’t you see that she is making the best + fight she can? You will weaken her if you interfere. It’s less than a week + now, and if you can only hold out, I know she can.” + </p> + <p> + Kenton groaned. “Well, I suppose you’re right, Sarah. But I don’t like the + idea of forcing her to go, unless—” + </p> + <p> + “Then you had better write to that fellow, and ask him to come and get + her.” + </p> + <p> + This shut Kenton’s mouth, and he kept on with his shaving. When he had + finished he felt fresher, if not stronger, and he went down to breakfast, + which he had alone, not only with reference to his own family, but all the + other guests of the hotel. He was always so early that sometimes the + dining-room was not open; when this happened, he used to go and buy a + newspaper at the clerk’s desk, for it was too early then for the + news-stand to be open. It happened so that morning, and he got his paper + without noticing the young man who was writing his name in the hotel + register, but who looked briskly up when the clerk bade Kenton + good-morning by name. + </p> + <p> + “Why, judge!” he said, and he put out a hand which Kenton took with + trembling reluctance and a dazed stare. “I thought you sailed last + Saturday!” + </p> + <p> + “We sail next Saturday,” said Kenton. + </p> + <p> + “Well, well! Then I misunderstood,” said Bittridge, and he added: “Why, + this is money found in the road! How are all the family? I’ve got my + mother here with me; brought her on for a kind of a little outing. She’ll + be the most surprised woman in New York when I tell her you’re here yet. + We came to this hotel because we knew you had been here, but we didn’t + suppose you were here! Well! This is too good! I saw Dick, Friday, but he + didn’t say anything about your sailing; I suppose he thought I knew. + Didn’t you tell me you were going in a week, that day in your house?” + </p> + <p> + “Perhaps I did,” Kenton faltered out, his eyes fixed on Bittridge’s with a + helpless fascination. + </p> + <p> + “Well, it don’t matter so long as you’re here. Mother’s in the parlor + waiting for me; I won’t risk taking you to her now, judge—right off + the train, you know. But I want to bring her to call on Mrs. Kenton as + soon after breakfast as you’ll let me. She just idolizes Mrs. Kenton, from + what I’ve told her about her. Our rooms ready?” He turned to the clerk, + and the clerk called “Front!” to a bellboy, who ran up and took + Bittridge’s hand-baggage, and stood waiting to follow him into the parlor. + “Well, you must excuse me now, judge. So long!” he said, gayly, and Kenton + crept feebly away to the dining-room. + </p> + <p> + He must have eaten breakfast, but he was not aware of doing so; and the + events of his leaving the table and going up in the elevator and finding + himself in his wife’s presence did not present themselves consecutively, + though they must all have successively occurred. It did not seem to him + that he could tell what he knew, but he found himself doing it, and her + hearing it with strange quiet. + </p> + <p> + “Very well,” she said. “I must tell Ellen, and, if she wishes, we must + stay in and wait for their call.” + </p> + <p> + “Yes,” the judge mechanically consented. + </p> + <p> + It was painful for Mrs. Kenton to see how the girl flushed when she + announced the fact of Bittridge’s presence, for she knew what a strife of + hope and shame and pride there was in Ellen’s heart. At first she said + that she did not wish to see him, and then when Mrs. Kenton would not say + whether she had better see him or not, she added, vaguely, “If he has + brought his mother—” + </p> + <p> + “I think we must see them, Ellen. You wouldn’t wish to think you had been + unkind; and he might be hurt on his mother’s account. He seems really fond + of her, and perhaps—” + </p> + <p> + “No, there isn’t any perhaps, momma,” said the girl, gratefully. “But I + think we had better see them, too. I think we had better ALL see them.” + </p> + <p> + “Just as you please, Ellen. If you prefer to meet them alone—” + </p> + <p> + “I don’t prefer that. I want poppa to be there, and Lottie and Boyne + even.” + </p> + <p> + Boyne objected when he was told that his presence was requested at this + family rite, and he would have excused himself if the invitation had been + of the form that one might decline. “What do I want to see him for?” he + puffed. “He never cared anything about me in Tuskingum. What’s he want + here, anyway?” + </p> + <p> + “I wish you to come in, my son,” said his mother, and that ended it. + </p> + <p> + Lottie was not so tractable. “Very well, momma,” she said. “But don’t + expect me to speak to him. I have some little self-respect, if the rest of + you haven’t. Am I going to shake hands with him! I never took the least + notice of him at home, and I’m not going to here.” + </p> + <p> + Bittridge decided the question of hand-shaking for her when they met. He + greeted her glooming brother with a jolly “Hello, Boyne!” and without + waiting for the boy’s tardy response he said “Hello, Lottie!” to the girl, + and took her hand and kept it in his while he made an elaborate compliment + to her good looks and her gain in weight. She had come tardily as a proof + that she would not have come in at all if she had not chosen to do so, and + Mrs. Bittridge was already seated beside Ellen on the sofa, holding her + hand, and trying to keep her mobile, inattentive eyes upon Ellen’s face. + She was a little woman, youthfully dressed, but not dressed youthfully + enough for the dry, yellow hair which curled tightly in small rings on her + skull, like the wig of a rag-doll. Her restless eyes were round and + deep-set, with the lids flung up out of sight; she had a lax, formless + mouth, and an anxious smile, with which she constantly watched her son for + his initiative, while she recollected herself from time to time, long + enough to smooth Ellen’s hand between her own, and say, “Oh, I just think + the world of Clarence; and I guess he thinks his mother is about right, + too,” and then did not heed what Ellen answered. + </p> + <p> + The girl said very little, and it was Bittridge who talked for all, + dominating the room with a large, satisfied presence, in which the judge + sat withdrawn, his forehead supported on his hand, and his elbow on the + table. Mrs. Kenton held herself upright, with her hands crossed before + her, stealing a look now and then at her daughter’s averted face, but + keeping her eyes from Mrs. Bittridge, who, whenever she caught Mrs. + Kenton’s glance, said something to her about her Clarence, and how he used + to write home to her at Ballardsville about the Kentons, so that she felt + acquainted with all of them. Her reminiscences were perfunctory; Mrs. + Bittridge had voluntarily but one topic, and that was herself, either as + she was included in the interest her son must inspire, or as she included + him in the interest she must inspire. She said that, now they had met at + last, she was not going to rest till the Kentons had been over to + Ballardsville, and made her a good, long visit; her son had some + difficulty in making her realize that the Kentons were going to Europe. + Then she laughed, and said she kept forgetting; and she did wish they were + all coming back to Tuskingum. + </p> + <p> + If it is a merit to treat a fatuous mother with deference, Bittridge had + that merit. His deference was of the caressing and laughing sort, which + took the spectator into the joke of her peculiarities as something they + would appreciate and enjoy with him. She had been a kittenish and petted + person in her youth, perhaps, and now she petted herself, after she had + long ceased to be a kitten. What was respectable and what was pathetic in + her was her wish to promote her son’s fortunes with the Kentons, but she + tried to do this from not a very clear understanding of her part, + apparently, and little sense of the means. For Ellen’s sake, rather than + hers, the father and mother received her overtures to their liking kindly; + they answered her patiently, and Mrs. Kenton even tried to lead the way + for her to show herself at her best, by talking of her journey on to New + York, and of the city, and what she would see there to interest her. + Lottie and Boyne, sternly aloof together in one of their momentary + alliances, listened to her replies with a silent contempt that almost + included their mother; Kenton bore with the woman humbly and sadly. + </p> + <p> + He was, in fact, rather bewildered with the situation, for which he felt + himself remotely if not immediately responsible. Bittridge was there among + them not only on good terms, but apparently in the character of a more + than tolerated pretendant to Ellen’s favor. There were passages of time is + which the father was not sure that the fellow was not engaged to his + daughter, though when these instants were gone he was aware that there had + been no overt love-making between them and Bittridge had never offered + himself. What was he doing there, then? The judge asked himself that, + without being able to answer himself. So far as he could make out, his + wife and he were letting him see Ellen, and show her off to his mother, + mainly to disgust her with them both, and because they were afraid that if + they denied her to him, it would be the worse for them through her + suffering. The judge was not accustomed to apply the tests by which people + are found vulgar or not; these were not of his simple world; all that he + felt about Mrs. Bittridge was that she was a very foolish, false person, + who was true in nothing but her admiration of her rascal of a son; he did + not think of Bittridge as a rascal violently, but helplessly, and with a + heart that melted in pity for Ellen. + </p> + <p> + He longed to have these people gone, not so much because he was so unhappy + in their presence as because he wished to learn Ellen’s feeling about them + from his wife. She would know, whether Allen said anything to her or not. + But perhaps if Mrs. Kenton had been asked to deliver her mind on this + point at once she would have been a little puled. All that she could see, + and she saw it with a sinking of the heart, was that Ellen looked more at + peace than she had been since Bittridge was last in their house at + Tuskingum. Her eyes covertly followed him as he sat talking, or went about + the room, making himself at home among them, as if he were welcome with + every one. He joked her more than the rest, and accused her of having + become a regular New-Yorker; he said he supposed that when she came back + from Europe she would not know anybody in Tuskingum; and his mother, + playing with Ellen’s fingers, as if they had been the fringe of a tassel, + declared that she must not mind him, for he carried on just so with + everybody; at the same time she ordered him to stop, or she would go right + out of the room. + </p> + <p> + She gave no other sign of going, and it was her son who had to make the + movement for her at last; she apparently did not know that it was her part + to make it. She said that now the Kentons must come and return her call, + and be real neighborly, just the same as if they were all at home + together. When her son shook hands with every one she did so too, and she + said to each, “Well, I wish you good-morning,” and let him push her before + him, in high delight with the joke, out of the room. + </p> + <p> + When they were gone the Kentons sat silent, Ellen with a rapt smile on her + thin, flushed face, till Lottie said, “You forgot to ask him if we might + BREATHE, poppa,” and paced out of the room in stately scorn, followed by + Boyne, who had apparently no words at the command of his dumb rage. Kenton + wished to remain, and he looked at his wife for instruction. She frowned, + and he took this for a sign that he had better go, and he went with a + light sigh. + </p> + <p> + He did not know what else to do with himself, and he went down to the + reading-room. He found Bittridge there, smoking a cigar, and the young man + companionably offered to bestow one upon him; but the judge stiffly + refused, saying he did not wish to smoke just then. He noted that + Bittridge was still in his character of family favorite, and his hand + trembled as he passed it over the smooth knob of his stick, while he sat + waiting for the fellow to take himself away. But Bittridge had apparently + no thought of going. He was looking at the amusements for the evening in a + paper he had bought, and he wished to consult the judge as to which was + the best theatre to go to that night; he said he wanted to take his + mother. Kenton professed not to know much about the New York theatres, and + then Bittridge guessed he must get the clerk to tell him. But still he did + not part with the judge. He sat down beside him, and told him how glad he + was to see his family looking so well, especially Miss Ellen; he could not + remember ever seeing her so strong-looking. He said that girl had captured + his mother, who was in love with pretty much the whole Kenton family, + though. + </p> + <p> + “And by-the-way,” he added, “I want to thank you and Mrs. Kenton, judge, + for the way you received my mother. You made her feel that she was among + friends. She can’t talk about anything else, and I guess I sha’n’t have + much trouble in making her stay in New York as long as you’re here. She + was inclined to be homesick. The fact is, though I don’t care to have it + talked about yet, and I wish you wouldn’t say anything to Dick about it + when you write home, I think of settling in New York. I’ve been offered a + show in the advertising department of one of the big dailies—I’m not + at liberty to say which—and it’s a toss-up whether I stay here or go + to Washington; I’ve got a chance there, too, but it’s on the staff of a + new enterprise, and I’m not sure about it. I’ve brought my mother along to + let her have a look at both places, though she doesn’t know it, and I’d + rather you wouldn’t speak of it before her; I’m going to take her on to + Washington before we go back. I want to have my mother with me, judge. + It’s better for a fellow to have that home-feeling in a large place from + the start; it keeps him out of a lot of things, and I don’t pretend to be + better than other people, or not more superhuman. If I’ve been able to + keep out of scrapes, it’s more because I’ve had my mother near me, and I + don’t intend ever to be separated from her, after this, till I have a home + of my own. She’s been the guiding-star of my life.” + </p> + <p> + Kenton was unable to make any formal response, and, in fact, he was so + preoccupied with the question whether the fellow was more a fool or a + fraud that he made no answer at all, beyond a few inarticulate grumblings + of assent. These sufficed for Bittridge, apparently, for he went on + contentedly: “Whenever I’ve been tempted to go a little wild, the thought + of how mother would feel has kept me on the track like nothing else would. + No, judge, there isn’t anything in this world like a good mother, except + the right kind of a wife.” + </p> + <p> + Kenton rose, and said he believed he must go upstairs. Bittridge said, + “All right; I’ll see you later, judge,” and swung easily off to advise + with the clerk as to the best theatre. + </p> + <p> + <a name="link2H_4_0006" id="link2H_4_0006"> + <!-- H2 anchor --> </a> + </p> + <div style="height: 4em;"> + <br /><br /><br /><br /> + </div> + <h2> + VI. + </h2> + <p> + Kenton was so unhappy that he could not wait for his wife to come to him + in their own room; he broke in upon her and Ellen in the parlor, and at + his coming the girl flitted out, in the noiseless fashion which of late + had made her father feel something ghostlike in her. He was afraid she was + growing to dislike him, and trying to avoid him, and now he presented + himself quite humbly before his wife, as if he had done wrong in coming. + He began with a sort of apology for interrupting, but his wife said it was + all right, and she added, “We were not talking about anything in + particular.” She was silent, and then she added again: “Sometimes I think + Ellen hasn’t very fine perceptions, after all. She doesn’t seem to feel + about people as I supposed she would.” + </p> + <p> + “You mean that she doesn’t feel as you would suppose about those people?” + </p> + <p> + Mrs. Kenton answered, obliquely. “She thinks it’s a beautiful thing in him + to be so devoted to his mother.” + </p> + <p> + “Humph! And what does she think of his mother?” + </p> + <p> + “She thinks she has very pretty hair.” + </p> + <p> + Mrs. Kenton looked gravely down at the work she had in her hands, and + Kenton did not know what to make of it all. He decided that his wife must + feel, as he did, a doubt of the child’s sincerity, with sense of her + evasiveness more tolerant than his own. Yet he knew that if it came to a + question of forcing Ellen to do what was best for her, or forbidding her + to do what was worst, his wife would have all the strength for the work, + and he none. He asked her, hopelessly enough, “Do you think she still + cares for him?” + </p> + <p> + “I think she wishes to give him another trial; I hope she will.” Kenton + was daunted, and he showed it. “She has got to convince herself, and we + have got to let her. She believes, of course, that he’s here on her + account, and that flatters her. Why should she be so different from other + girls?” Mrs. Kenton demanded of the angry protest in her husband’s eye. + </p> + <p> + His spirit fell, and he said, “I only wish she were more like them.” + </p> + <p> + “Well, then, she is just as headstrong and as silly, when it comes to a + thing like this. Our only hope is to let her have her own way.” + </p> + <p> + “Do you suppose he cares for her, after all?” + </p> + <p> + Mrs. Kenton was silent, as if in exhaustive self-question. Then she + answered: “No, I don’t in that way. But he believes he can get her.” + </p> + <p> + “Then, Sarah, I think we have a duty to the poor child. You must tell her + what you have told me.” + </p> + <p> + Mrs. Kenton smiled rather bitterly, in recognition of the fact that the + performance of their common duty must fall wholly to her. But she merely + said: “There is no need of my telling her. She knows it already.” + </p> + <p> + “And she would take him in spite of knowing that he didn’t really care for + her?” + </p> + <p> + “I don’t say that. She wouldn’t own it to herself.” + </p> + <p> + “And what are you going to do?” + </p> + <p> + “Nothing. We must let things take their course.” + </p> + <p> + They had a great deal more talk that came to the same end. They played + their sad comedy, he in the part of a father determined to save his child + from herself, and she in hers of resisting and withholding him. It ended + as it had so often ended before—he yielded, with more faith in her + wisdom than she had herself. + </p> + <p> + At luncheon the Bittridges could not join the Kentons, or be asked to do + so, because the table held only four, but they stopped on their way to + their own table, the mother to bridle and toss in affected reluctance, + while the son bragged how he had got the last two tickets to be had that + night for the theatre where he was going to take his mother. He seemed to + think that the fact had a special claim on the judge’s interest, and she + to wish to find out whether Mrs. Kenton approved of theatre-going. She + said she would not think of going in Ballardsville, but she supposed it + was more rulable in New York. + </p> + <p> + During the afternoon she called at the Kenton apartment to consult the + ladies about what she ought to wear. She said she had nothing but a black + ‘barege’ along, and would that do with the hat she had on? She had worn it + to let them see, and now she turned her face from aide to side to give + them the effect of the plumes, that fell like a dishevelled feather-duster + round and over the crown. Mrs. Kenton could only say that it would do, but + she believed that it was the custom now for ladies to take their hats off + in the theatre. + </p> + <p> + Mrs. Bittridge gave a hoarse laugh. “Oh, dear! Then I’ll have to fix my + hair two ways? I don’t know what Clarence WILL say.” + </p> + <p> + The mention of her son’s name opened the way for her to talk of him in + relation to herself, and the rest of her stay passed in the celebration of + his filial virtues, which had been manifest from the earliest period. She + could not remember that she ever had to hit the child a lick, she said, or + that he had ever made her shed a tear. + </p> + <p> + When she went, Boyne gloomily inquired, “What makes her hair so much + darker at the roots than it is at the points?” and his mother snubbed him + promptly. + </p> + <p> + “You had no business to be here, Boyne. I don’t like boys hanging about + where ladies are talking together, and listening.” + </p> + <p> + This did not prevent Lottie from answering, directly for Boyne, and + indirectly for Ellen, “It’s because it’s begun to grow since the last + bleach.” + </p> + <p> + It was easier to grapple with Boyne than with Lottie, and Mrs. Kenton was + willing to allow her to leave the room with her brother unrebuked. She was + even willing to have had the veil lifted from Mrs. Bittridge’s hair with a + rude hand, if it world help Ellen. + </p> + <p> + “I don’t want you to think, momma,” said the girl, “that I didn’t know + about her hair, or that I don’t see how silly she is. But it’s all the + more to his credit if he can be so good to her, and admire her. Would you + like him better if he despised her?” + </p> + <p> + Mrs. Kenton felt both the defiance and the secret shame from which it + sprang in her daughter’s words; and she waited for a moment before she + answered, “I would like to be sure he didn’t!” + </p> + <p> + “If he does, and if he hides it from her, it’s the same as if he didn’t; + it’s better. But you all wish to dislike him.” + </p> + <p> + “We don’t wish to dislike him, Ellen, goodness knows. But I don’t think he + would care much whether we disliked him or not. I am sure your poor father + and I would be only too glad to like him.” + </p> + <p> + “Lottie wouldn’t,” said Ellen, with a resentment her mother found + pathetic, it was so feeble and aimless. + </p> + <p> + “Lottie doesn’t matter,” she said. She could not make out how nearly Ellen + was to sharing the common dislike, or how far she would go in fortifying + herself against it. She kept with difficulty to her negative frankness, + and she let the girl leave the room with a fretful sigh, as if provoked + that her mother would not provoke her further. There were moments when + Mrs. Kenton believed that Ellen was sick of her love, and that she would + pluck it out of her heart herself if she were left alone. She was then + glad Bittridge had come, so that Ellen might compare with the reality the + counterfeit presentment she had kept in her fancy; and she believed that + if she could but leave him to do his worst, it would be the best for + Ellen. + </p> + <p> + In the evening, directly after dinner, Bittridge sent up his name for Mrs. + Kenton. The judge had remained to read his paper below, and Lottie and + Boyne had gone to some friends in another apartment. It seemed to Mrs. + Kenton a piece of luck that she should be able to see him alone, and she + could not have said that she was unprepared for him to come in, holding + his theatre-tickets explanatorily in his hand, or surprised when he began: + </p> + <p> + “Mrs. Kenton, my mother’s got a bad headache, and I’ve come to ask a favor + of you. She can’t use her ticket for to-night, and I want you to let Miss + Ellen come with me. Will you?” + </p> + <p> + Bittridge had constituted himself an old friend of the whole family from + the renewal of their acquaintance, and Mrs. Kenton was now made aware of + his being her peculiar favorite, in spite of the instant repulsion she + felt, she was not averse to what he proposed. Her fear was that Ellen + would be so, or that she could keep from influencing her to this test of + her real feeling for Bittridge. “I will ask her, Mr. Bittridge,” she said, + with a severity which was a preliminary of the impartiality she meant to + use with Ellen. + </p> + <p> + “Well, that’s right,” he answered, and while she went to the girl’s room + he remained examining the details of the drawing-room decorations in easy + security, which Mrs. Kenton justified on her return. + </p> + <p> + “Ellen will be ready to go with you, Mr. Bittridge.” + </p> + <p> + “Well, that’s good,” said the young man, and while he talked on she sat + wondering at a nature which all modesty and deference seemed left out of, + though he had sometimes given evidence of his intellectual appreciation of + these things. He talked to Mrs. Kenton not only as if they were in + every-wise equal, but as if they were of the same age, almost of the same + sex. + </p> + <p> + Ellen came in, cloaked and hatted, with her delicate face excited in + prospect of the adventure; and her mother saw Bittridge look at her with + more tenderness than she had ever seen in him before. “I’ll take good care + of her, Mrs. Kenton,” he said, and for the first time she felt herself + relent a little towards him. + </p> + <p> + A minute after they were gone Lottie bounced into the room, followed by + Boyne. + </p> + <p> + “Momma!” she shouted, “Ellen isn’t going to the theatre with that fellow?” + </p> + <p> + “Yes, she is.” + </p> + <p> + “And you let her, momma! Without a chaperon?” + </p> + <p> + Boyne’s face had mirrored the indignation in his sister’s, but at this + unprecedented burst of conventionality he forgot their momentary alliance. + “Well, you’re a pretty one to talk about chaperons! Walking all over + Tuskingum with fellows at night, and going buggy-riding with everybody, + and out rowing, and here fairly begging Jim Plumpton to come down to the + steamer and see you off again!” + </p> + <p> + “Shut up!” Lottie violently returned, “or I’ll tell momma how you’ve been + behaving with Rita Plumpton yourself.” + </p> + <p> + “Well, tell!” Boyne defied her. + </p> + <p> + “Oh, it don’t matter what a brat of a boy says or does, anyway,” said + Lottie. “But I think Ellen is disgracing the family. Everybody in the + hotel is laughing at that wiggy old Mrs. Bittridge, with her wobbly eyes, + and they can see that he’s just as green! The Plumptons have been laughing + so about them, and I told them that we had nothing to do with them at + home, and had fairly turned Bittridge out of the house, but he had + impudence enough for anything; and now to find Ellen going off to the + theatre with him alone!” + </p> + <p> + Lottie began to cry with vexation as she whipped out of the room, and + Boyne, who felt himself drawn to her side again, said, very seriously: + “Well, it ain’t the thing in New York, you know, momma; and anybody can + see what a jay Bittridge is. I think it’s too bad to let her.” + </p> + <p> + “It isn’t for you to criticise your mother, Boyne,” said Mrs. Kenton, but + she was more shaken than she would allow. Her own traditions were so + simple that the point of etiquette which her children had urged had not + occurred to her. The question whether Ellen should go with Bittridge at + all being decided, she would, of course, go in New York as she would go in + Tuskingum. Now Mrs. Kenton perceived that she must not, and she had her + share of humiliation in the impression which his mother, as her friend, + apparently, was making with her children’s acquaintances in the hotel. If + they would think everybody in Tuskingum was like her, it would certainly + be very unpleasant, but she would not quite own this to herself, still + less to a fourteen-year-old boy. “I think what your father and I decide to + be right will be sufficient excuse for you with your friends.” + </p> + <p> + “Does father know it?” Boyne asked, most unexpectedly. + </p> + <p> + Having no other answer ready, Mrs. Kenton said, “You had better go to bed, + my son.” + </p> + <p> + “Well,” he grumbled, as he left the room, “I don’t know where all the + pride of the Kentons is gone to.” + </p> + <p> + In his sense of fallen greatness he attempted to join Lottie in her room, + but she said, “Go away, nasty thing!” and Boyne was obliged to seek his + own room, where he occupied himself with a contrivance he was inventing to + enable you to close your door and turn off your gas by a system of pulleys + without leaving your bed, when you were tired of reading. + </p> + <p> + Mrs. Kenton waited for her husband in much less comfort, and when he came, + and asked, restlessly, “Where are the children?” she first told him that + Lottie and Boyne were in their rooms before she could bring herself to say + that Ellen had gone to the theatre with Bittridge. + </p> + <p> + It was some relief to have him take it in the dull way he did, and to say + nothing worse than, “Did you think it was well to have her!” + </p> + <p> + “You may be sure I didn’t want her to. But what would she have said if I + had refused to let her go? I can tell you it isn’t an easy matter to + manage her in this business, and it’s very easy for you to criticise, + without taking the responsibility.” + </p> + <p> + “I’m not criticising,” said Kenton. “I know you have acted for the best.” + </p> + <p> + “The children,” said Mrs. Kenton, wishing to be justified further, “think + she ought to have had a chaperon. I didn’t think of that; it isn’t the + custom at home; but Lottie was very saucy about it, and I had to send + Boyne to bed. I don’t think our children are very much comfort to us.” + </p> + <p> + “They are good children,” Kenton said, said—provisionally. + </p> + <p> + “Yes, that is the worst of it. If they were bad, we wouldn’t expect any + comfort from them. Ellen is about perfect. She’s as near an angel as a + child can be, but she could hardly have given us more anxiety if she had + been the worst girl in the world.” + </p> + <p> + “That’s true,” the father sadly assented. + </p> + <p> + “She didn’t really want to go with him to-night, I’ll say that for her, + and if I had said a single word against it she wouldn’t have gone. But all + at once, while she sat there trying to think how I could excuse her, she + began asking me what she should wear. There’s something strange about it, + Rufus. If I believed in hypnotism, I should say she had gone because he + willed her to go.” + </p> + <p> + “I guess she went because she wanted to go because she’s in love with + him,” said Kenton, hopelessly. + </p> + <p> + “Yes,” Mrs. Kenton agreed. “I don’t see how she can endure the sight of + him. He’s handsome enough,” she added, with a woman’s subjective logic. + “And there’s something fascinating about him. He’s very graceful, and he’s + got a good figure.” + </p> + <p> + “He’s a hound!” said Kenton, exhaustively. + </p> + <p> + “Oh yes, he’s a hound,” she sighed, as if there could be no doubt on that + point. “It don’t seem right for him to be in the same room with Ellen. But + it’s for her to say. I feel more and more that we can’t interfere without + doing harm. I suppose that if she were not so innocent herself she would + realize what he was better. But I do think he appreciates her innocence. + He shows more reverence for her than for any one else.” + </p> + <p> + “How was it his mother didn’t go?” asked Kenton. + </p> + <p> + “She had a headache, he said. But I don’t believe that. He always intended + to get Ellen to go. And that’s another thing Lottie was vexed about; she + says everybody is laughing at Mrs. Bittridge, and it’s mortifying to have + people take her for a friend of ours.” + </p> + <p> + “If there were nothing worse than that,” said Kenton, “I guess we could + live through it. Well, I don’t know how it’s going to all end.” + </p> + <p> + They sat talking sadly, but finding a certain comfort in their mutual + discouragement, and in their knowledge that they were doing the best they + could for their child, whose freedom they must not infringe so far as to + do what was absolutely best; and the time passed not so heavily till her + return. This was announced by the mounting of the elevator to their + landing, and then by low, rapid pleading in a man’s voice outside. Kenton + was about to open the door, when there came the formless noise of what + seemed a struggle, and Ellen’s voice rose in a muffed cry: “Oh! Oh! Let me + be! Go away! I hate you!” Kenton the door open, and Ellen burst in, + running to hide her face in her mother’s breast, where she sobbed out, “He—he + kissed me!” like a terrified child more than an insulted woman. Through + the open door came the clatter of Bittridge’s feet as he ran down-stairs. + </p> + <p> + <a name="link2H_4_0007" id="link2H_4_0007"> + <!-- H2 anchor --> </a> + </p> + <div style="height: 4em;"> + <br /><br /><br /><br /> + </div> + <h2> + VII. + </h2> + <p> + When Mrs. Kenton came from quieting the hysterical girl in her room she + had the task, almost as delicate and difficult, of quieting her husband. + She had kept him, by the most solemn and exhaustive entreaty, from + following Bittridge downstairs and beating him with his stick, and now she + was answerable to him for his forbearance. “If you don’t behave yourself, + Rufus,” she had to say, “you will have some sort of stroke. After all, + there’s no harm done.” + </p> + <p> + “No harm! Do you call it no harm for that hound to kiss Ellen?” + </p> + <p> + “He wouldn’t have attempted it unless something had led up to it, I + suppose.” + </p> + <p> + “Sarah! How can you speak so of that angel?” + </p> + <p> + “Oh, that angel is a girl like the rest. You kissed me before we were + engaged.” + </p> + <p> + “That was very different.” + </p> + <p> + “I don’t see how. If your daughter is so sacred, why wasn’t her mother? + You men don’t think your wives are sacred. That’s it!” + </p> + <p> + “No, no, Sarah! It’s because I don’t think of you as apart from myself, + that I can’t think of you as I do of Ellen. I beg your pardon if I seemed + to set her above you. But when I kissed you we were very young, and we + lived in a simple day, when such things meant no harm; and I was very fond + of you, and you were the holiest thing in the world to me. Is Ellen holy + to that fellow?” + </p> + <p> + “I know,” Mrs. Kenton relented. “I’m not comparing him to you. And there + is a difference with Ellen. She isn’t like other girls. If it had been + Lottie—” + </p> + <p> + “I shouldn’t have liked it with Lottie, either,” said the major, stiffly. + “But if it had been Lottie she would have boxed his ears for him, instead + of running to you. Lottie can take care of herself. And I will take care + of Ellen. When I see that scoundrel in the morning—” + </p> + <p> + “What will you do, an old man like you! I can tell you, it’s something + you’ve just got to bear it if you don’t want the scandal to fill the whole + hotel. It’s a very fortunate thing, after all. It’ll put an end to the + whole affair.” + </p> + <p> + “Do you think so, Sarah? If I believed that. What does Ellen say?” + </p> + <p> + “Nothing; she won’t say anything—just cries and hides her face. I + believe she is ashamed of having made a scene before us. But I know that + she’s so disgusted with him that she will never look at him again, and if + it’s brought her to that I should think his kissing her the greatest + blessing in the world to us all. Yes, Ellen!” + </p> + <p> + Mrs. Kenton hurried off at a faint call from the girl’s room, and when she + came again she sat down to a long discussion of the situation with her + husband, while she slowly took down her hair and prepared it for the + night. Her conclusion, which she made her husband’s, was that it was most + fortunate they should be sailing so soon, and that it was the greatest + pity they were not sailing in the morning. She wished him to sleep, + whether she slept herself or not, and she put the most hopeful face + possible upon the matter. “One thing you can rest assured of, Rufus, and + that is that it’s all over with Ellen. She may never speak to you about + him, and you mustn’t ever mention him, but she feels just as you could + wish. Does that satisfy you? Some time I will tell you all she says.” + </p> + <p> + “I don’t care to hear,” said Kenton. “All I want is for him to keep away + from me. I think if he spoke to me I should kill him.” + </p> + <p> + “Rufus!” + </p> + <p> + “I can’t help it, Sarah. I feel outraged to the bottom of my soul. I could + kill him.” + </p> + <p> + Mrs. Kenton turned her head and looked steadfastly at him over her + shoulder. “If you strike him, if you touch him, Mr. Kenton, you will undo + everything that the abominable wretch has done for Ellen, and you will + close my mouth and tie my hands. Will you promise that under no + provocation whatever will you do him the least harm? I know Ellen better + than you do, and I know that you will make her hate you unless—” + </p> + <p> + “Oh, I will promise. You needn’t be afraid. Lord help me!” Kenton groaned. + “I won’t touch him. But don’t expect me to speak to him.” + </p> + <p> + “No, I don’t expect that. He won’t offer to speak to you.” + </p> + <p> + They slept, and in the morning she stayed to breakfast with Ellen in their + apartment, and let her husband go down with their younger children. She + could trust him now, whatever form his further trial should take, and he + felt that he was pledging himself to her anew, when Bittridge came + hilariously to meet him in the reading-room, where he went for a paper + after breakfast. + </p> + <p> + “Ah, judge!” said the young man, gayly. “Hello, Boyne!” he added to the + boy, who had come with his father; Lottie had gone directly up-stairs from + the breakfast-room. “I hope you’re all well this morning? Play not too + much for Miss Ellen?” + </p> + <p> + Kenton looked him in the face without answering, and then tried to get + away from him, but Bittridge followed him up, talking, and ignoring his + silence. + </p> + <p> + “It was a splendid piece, judge. You must take Mrs. Kenton. I know you’ll + both like it. I haven’t ever seen Miss Ellen so interested. I hope the + walk home didn’t fatigue her. I wanted to get a cab, but she would walk.” + The judge kept moving on, with his head down. He did not speak, and + Bittridge was forced to notice his silence. “Nothing the matter, I hope, + with Miss Ellen, judge?” + </p> + <p> + “Go away,” said the judge, in a low voice, fumbling the head of his stick. + </p> + <p> + “Why, what’s up?” asked Bittridge, and he managed to get in front of + Kenton and stay him at a point where Kenton could not escape. It was a + corner of the room to which the old man had aimlessly tended, with no + purpose but to avoid him: + </p> + <p> + “I wish you to let me alone, sir,” said Kenton at last. “I can’t speak to + you.” + </p> + <p> + “I understand what you mean, judge,” said Bittridge, with a grin, all the + more maddening because it seemed involuntary. “But I can explain + everything. I just want a few words with you. It’s very important; it’s + life or death with me, sir,” he said, trying to look grave. “Will you let + me go to your rooms with you?” + </p> + <p> + Kenton made no reply. + </p> + <p> + Bittridge began to laugh. “Then let’s sit down here, or in the ladies’ + parlor. It won’t take me two minutes to make everything right. If you + don’t believe I’m in earnest I know you don’t think I am, but I can assure + you—Will you let me speak with you about Miss Ellen?” + </p> + <p> + Still Kenton did not answer, shutting his lips tight, and remembering his + promise to his wife. + </p> + <p> + Bittridge laughed, as if in amusement at what he had done. “Judge, let me + say two words to you in private! If you can’t now, tell me when you can. + We’re going back this evening, mother and I are; she isn’t well, and I’m + not going to take her to Washington. I don’t want to go leaving you with + the idea that I wanted to insult Miss Ellen. I care too much for her. I + want to see you and Mrs. Kenton about it. I do, indeed. And won’t you let + me see you, somewhere?” + </p> + <p> + Kenton looked away, first to one side and then to another, and seemed + stifling. + </p> + <p> + “Won’t you speak to me! Won’t you answer me? See here! I’d get down on my + knees to you if it would do you any good. Where will you talk with me?” + </p> + <p> + “Nowhere!” shouted Kenton. “Will you go away, or shall I strike you with + my stick?” + </p> + <p> + “Oh, I don’t think,” said Bittridge, and suddenly, in the wantonness of + his baffled effrontery, he raised his hand and rubbed the back of it in + the old man’s face. + </p> + <p> + Boyne Kenton struck wildly at him, and Bittridge caught the boy by the arm + and flung him to his knees on the marble floor. The men reading in the + arm-chairs about started to their feet; a porter came running, and took + hold of Bittridge. “Do you want an officer, Judge Kenton?” he panted. + </p> + <p> + “No, no!” Kenton answered, choking and trembling. “Don’t arrest him. I + wish to go to my rooms, that’s all. Let him go. Don’t do anything about + it.” + </p> + <p> + “I’ll help you, judge,” said the porter. “Take hold of this fellow,” he + said to two other porters who came up. “Take him to the desk, and tell the + clerk he struck Judge Kenton, but the judge don’t want him arrested.” + </p> + <p> + Before Kenton reached the elevator with Boyne, who was rubbing his knees + and fighting back the tears, he heard the clerk’s voice saying, formally, + to the porters, “Baggage out of 35 and 37” and adding, as mechanically, to + Bittridge: “Your rooms are wanted. Get out of them at once!” + </p> + <p> + It seemed the gathering of neighborhood about Kenton, where he had felt + himself so unfriended, against the outrage done him, and he felt the + sweetness of being personally championed in a place where he had thought + himself valued merely for the profit that was in him; his eyes filled, and + his voice failed him in thanking the elevator-boy for running before him + to ring the bell of his apartment. + </p> + <p> + <a name="link2H_4_0008" id="link2H_4_0008"> + <!-- H2 anchor --> </a> + </p> + <div style="height: 4em;"> + <br /><br /><br /><br /> + </div> + <h2> + VIII. + </h2> + <p> + The next day, in Tuskingum, Richard, Kenton found among the letters of his + last mail one which he easily knew to be from his sister Lottie, by the + tightly curled-up handwriting, and by the unliterary look of the slanted + and huddled address of the envelope: The only doubt he could have felt in + opening it was from the unwonted length at which she had written him; + Lottie usually practised a laconic brevity in her notes, which were suited + to the poverty of her written vocabulary rather than the affluence of her + spoken word. + </p> +<pre xml:space="preserve"> + “Dear Dick” [her letter ran, tripping and stumbling in its course], + “I have got to tell you about something that has just happened here, + and you needent laugh at the speling, or the way I tell it, but just + pay attention to the thing itself, if you please. That disgusting + Bittridge has been here with his horrid wiggy old mother, and momma + let him take Ellen to the theatre. On the way home he tried to make + her promise she would marry him and at the door he kissed her. They + had an awful night with her hiseterics, and I heard momma going in + and out, and trying to comfort her till daylight, nearly. In the + morning I went down with poppy and Boyne to breakfast, and after I + came up, father went to the reading-room to get a paper, and that + Bittridge was there waiting for him, and wanted to speak with him + about Ellen. Poppa wouldent say a word to him, and he kept + following poppa up, to make him. Boyne says be wouldent take no for + an ansir, and hung on and hungon, till poppa threatened to hitt him + with his cane. Then he saw it was no use, and he took his hand and + rubbed it in poppa’s face, and Boyne believes he was trying to pull + poppa’s nose. Boyne acted like I would have done; he pounded + Bittridge in the back; but of course Bittridge was too strong for + him, and threw him on the floor, and Boyne scraped his knee so that + it bledd. Then the porters came up, and caught Bittridge, and + wanted to send for a policeman, but father wouldent let them, and + the porters took Bittridge to the desk and the clerk told him to get + out instantly and they left as soon as old Wiggy could get her + things on. I don’t know where they went, but he told poppa they + were going home to-day any way. Now, Dick, I don’t know what you + will want to do, and I am not going to put you up to anything, but I + know what I would do, pretty well, the first time Bittridge showed + himself in Tuskingum. You can do just as you please, and I don’t + ask you to believe me if you’re think I’m so exciteable that I cant + tell the truth. I guess Boyne will say the same. Much love to + Mary. Your affectionate sister, + + “Lottie. + + “P. S.—Every word Lottie says is true, but I am not sure he meant + to pull his nose. The reason why he threw me down so easily is, I + have grown about a foot, and I have not got up my strength. BOYNE. + + “This is strictly confidential. They don’t know we + are writing. LATTIE.” + </pre> + <p> + After reading this letter, Richard Kenton tore it into small pieces, so + that there should not be even so much witness as it bore to facts that + seemed to fill him with fury to the throat. His fury was, in agreement + with his temperament, the white kind and cold kind. He was able to keep it + to himself for that reason; at supper his wife knew merely that he had + something on his mind that he did not wish to talk of; and experience had + taught her that it would be useless to try making him speak. + </p> + <p> + He slept upon his wrath, and in the morning early, at an hour when he knew + there would be no loafers in the place, he went to an out-dated saddler’s + shop, and asked the owner, a veteran of his father’s regiment, “Welks, do + you happen to have a cowhide among your antiquities?” + </p> + <p> + “Regular old style?” Welks returned. “Kind they make out of a cow’s hide + and use on a man’s?” + </p> + <p> + “Something of that sort,” said Richard, with a slight smile. + </p> + <p> + The saddler said nothing more, but rummaged among the riff-raff on an + upper shelf. He got down with the tapering, translucent, wicked-looking + thing in his hand. “I reckon that’s what you’re after, squire.” + </p> + <p> + “Reckon it is, Welks,” said Richard, drawing it through his tubed left + hand. Then he buttoned it under his coat, and paid the quarter which Welks + said had always been the price of a cowhide even since he could remember, + and walked away towards the station. + </p> + <p> + “How’s the old colonel” Welks called after him, having forgotten to ask + before. + </p> + <p> + “The colonel’s all right,” Richard called back, without looking round. + </p> + <p> + He walked up and down in front of the station. A local train came in from + Ballardsville at 8.15, and waited for the New York special, and then + returned to Ballardsville. Richard had bought a ticket for that station, + and was going to take the train back, but among the passengers who + descended from it when it drew in was one who saved him the trouble of + going. + </p> + <p> + Bittridge, with his overcoat hanging on his arm, advanced towards him with + the rest, and continued to advance, in a sort of fascination, after his + neighbors, with the instinct that something was about to happen, parted on + either side of Richard, and left the two men confronted. Richard did not + speak, but deliberately reached out his left hand, which he caught + securely into Bittridge’s collar; then he began to beat him with the + cowhide wherever he could strike his writhing and twisting shape. Neither + uttered a word, and except for the whir of the cowhide in the air, and the + rasping sound of its arrest upon the body of Bittridge, the thing was done + in perfect silence. The witnesses stood well back in a daze, from which + they recovered when Richard released Bittridge with a twist of the hand + that tore his collar loose and left his cravat dangling, and tossed the + frayed cowhide away, and turned and walked homeward. Then one of them + picked up Bittridge’s hat and set it aslant on his head, and others helped + pull his collar together and tie his cravat. + </p> + <p> + For the few moments that Richard Kenton remained in sight they scarcely + found words coherent enough for question, and when they did, Bittridge had + nothing but confused answers to give to the effect that he did not know + what it meant, but he would find out. He got into a hack and had himself + driven to his hotel, but he never made the inquiry which he threatened. + </p> + <p> + In his own house Richard Kenton lay down awhile, deadly sick, and his wife + had to bring him brandy before he could control his nerves sufficiently to + speak. Then he told her what he had done, and why, and Mary pulled off his + shoes and put a hot-water bottle to his cold feet. It was not exactly the + treatment for a champion, but Mary Kenton was not thinking of that, and + when Richard said he still felt a little sick at the stomach she wanted + him to try a drop of camphor in addition to the brandy. She said he must + not talk, but she wished him so much to talk that she was glad when he + began. + </p> + <p> + “It seemed to be something I had to do, Mary, but I would give anything if + I had not been obliged to do it: + </p> + <p> + “Yes, I know just how you feel, Dick, and I think it’s pretty hard this + has come on you. I do think Ellen might—” + </p> + <p> + “It wasn’t her fault, Mary. You mustn’t blame her. She’s had more to bear + than all the rest of us.” Mary looked stubbornly unconvinced, and she was + not moved, apparently, by what he went on to say. “The thing now is to + keep what I’ve done from making more mischief for her.” + </p> + <p> + “What do you mean, Dick? You don’t believe he’ll do anything about it, do + you?” + </p> + <p> + “No, I’m not afraid of that. His mouth is shut. But you can’t tell how + Ellen will take it. She may side with him now.” + </p> + <p> + “Dick! If I thought Ellen Kenton could be such a fool as that!” + </p> + <p> + “If she’s in love with him she’ll take his part.” + </p> + <p> + “But she can’t be in love with him when she knows how he acted to your + father!” + </p> + <p> + “We can’t be sure of that. I know how he acted to father; but at this + minute I pity him so that I could take his part against father. And I can + understand how Ellen—Anyway, I must make a clean breast of it. What + day is this Thursday? And they sail Saturday! I must write—” + </p> + <p> + He lifted himself on his elbow, and made as if to throw off the shawl she + had spread upon him. + </p> + <p> + “No, no! I will write, Dick! I will write to your mother. What shall I + say?” She whirled about, and got the paper and ink out of her + writing-desk, and sat down near him to keep him from getting up, and wrote + the date, and the address, “Dear Mother Kenton,” which was the way she + always began her letters to Mrs. Kenton, in order to distinguish her from + her own mother. “Now what shall I say?” + </p> + <p> + “Simply this,” answered Richard. “That I knew of what had happened in New + York, and when I met him this morning I cowhided him. Ugh!” + </p> + <p> + “Well, that won’t do, Dick. You’ve got to tell all about it. Your mother + won’t understand.” + </p> + <p> + “Then you write what you please, and read it to me. It makes me sick to + think of it.” Richard closed his eyes, and Mary wrote: + </p> +<pre xml:space="preserve"> + “DEAR MOTHER KENTON,—I am sitting by Richard, writing at his + request, about what he has done. He received a letter from New York + telling him of the Bittridges’ performances there, and how that + wretch had insulted and abused you all. He bought a cowhide; + meaning to go over to Ballardsville, and use it on him there, but B. + came over on the Accommodation this morning, and Richard met him at + the station. He did not attempt to resist, for Richard took him + quite by surprise. Now, Mother Kenton, you know that Richard + doesn’t approve of violence, and the dear, sweet soul is perfectly + broken-down by what he had to do. But he had to do it, and he + wishes you to know at, once that he did it. He dreads the effect + upon Ellen, and we must leave it to your judgment about telling her. + Of course, sooner or later she must find it out. You need not be + alarmed about Richard. He is just nauseated a little, and he will + be all right as soon as his stomach is settled. He thinks you ought + to have this letter before you sail, and with affectionate good-byes + to all, in which Dick joins, + + “Your loving daughter, + + “Mary KENTON.” + </pre> + <p> + “There! Will that do?” + </p> + <p> + “Yes, that is everything that can be said,” answered Richard, and Mary + kissed him gratefully before sealing her letter. + </p> + <p> + “I will put a special delivery on it,” she said, and her precaution + availed to have the letter delivered to Mrs. Kenton the evening the family + left the hotel, when it was too late to make any change in their plans, + but in time to give her a bad night on the steamer, in her doubt whether + she ought to let the family go, with this trouble behind them. + </p> + <p> + But she would have had a bad night on the steamer in any case, with the + heat, and noise, and smell of the docks; and the steamer sailed with her + at six o’clock the next morning with the doubt still open in her mind. The + judge had not been of the least use to her in helping solve it, and she + had not been able to bring herself to attack Lottie for writing to + Richard. She knew it was Lottie who had made the mischief, but she could + not be sure that it was mischief till she knew its effect upon Ellen. The + girl had been carried in the arms of one of the stewards from the carriage + to her berth in Lottie’s room, and there she had lain through the night, + speechless and sleepless. + </p> + <p> + <a name="link2H_4_0009" id="link2H_4_0009"> + <!-- H2 anchor --> </a> + </p> + <div style="height: 4em;"> + <br /><br /><br /><br /> + </div> + <h2> + IX. + </h2> + <p> + Ellen did not move or manifest any consciousness when the steamer left her + dock and moved out into the stream, or take any note of the tumult that + always attends a great liner’s departure. At breakfast-time her mother + came to her from one of the brief absences she made, in the hope that at + each turn she should find her in a different mood, and asked if she would + not have something to eat. + </p> + <p> + “I’m not hungry,” she answered. “When will it sail?” + </p> + <p> + “Why, Ellen! We sailed two hours ago, and the pilot has just left us.” + </p> + <p> + Ellen lifted herself on her elbow and stared at her. “And you let me!” she + said, cruelly. + </p> + <p> + “Ellen! I will not have this!” cried her mother, frantic at the reproach. + “What do you mean by my letting you? You knew that we were going to sail, + didn’t you? What else did you suppose we had come to the steamer for?” + </p> + <p> + “I supposed you would let me stay, if I wanted to: But go away, momma, go + away! You’re all against me—you, and poppa, and Lottie, and Boyne. + Oh, dear! oh, dear!” She threw herself down in her berth and covered her + face with the sheet, sobbing, while her mother stood by in an anguish of + pity and anger. She wanted to beat the girl, she wanted to throw herself + upon her, and weep with her in the misery which she shared with her. + </p> + <p> + Lottie came to the door of the state-room with an arm-load of long-stemmed + roses, the gift of the young Mr. Plumpton, who had not had so much to be + entreated to come down to the steamer and see her off as Boyne had + pretended. “Momma,” she said, “I have got to leave these roses in here, + whether Ellen likes it or not. Boyne won’t have them in his room, because + he says the man that’s with him would have a right to object; and this is + half my room, anyway.” + </p> + <p> + Mrs. Kenton frowned and shook her head, but Ellen answered from under the + sheet, “I don’t mind the roses, Lottie. I wish you’d stay with me a little + while.” + </p> + <p> + Lottie hesitated, having in mind the breakfast for which the horn had just + sounded. But apparently she felt that one good turn deserved another, and + she answered: “All right; I will, Nell. Momma, you tell Boyne to hurry, + and come to Ellen as soon as he’s done, and then I will go. Don’t let + anybody take my place.” + </p> + <p> + “I wish,” said Ellen, still from under the sheet, “that momma would have + your breakfast sent here. I don’t want Boyne.” + </p> + <p> + Women apparently do not require any explanation of these swift + vicissitudes in one another, each knowing probably in herself the nerves + from which they proceed. Mrs. Kenton promptly assented, in spite of the + sulky reluctance which Lottie’s blue eyes looked at her; she motioned her + violently to silence, and said: “Yes, I will, Ellen. I will send breakfast + for both of you.” + </p> + <p> + When she was gone, Ellen uncovered her face and asked Lottie to dip a + towel in water and give it to her. As she bathed her eyes she said, “You + don’t care, do you, Lottie?” + </p> + <p> + “Not very much,” said Lottie, unsparingly. “I can go to lunch, I suppose.” + </p> + <p> + “Maybe I’ll go to lunch with you,” Ellen suggested, as if she were + speaking of some one else. + </p> + <p> + Lottie wasted neither sympathy nor surprise on the question. “Well, maybe + that would be the best thing. Why don’t you come to breakfast?” + </p> + <p> + “No, I won’t go to breakfast. But you go.” + </p> + <p> + When Lottie joined her family in the dining-saloon she carelessly + explained that Ellen had said she wanted to be alone. Before the young + man, who was the only other person besides the Kentons at their table, her + mother could not question her with any hope that the bad would not be made + worse, and so she remained silent. Judge Kenton sat with his eyes fixed on + his plate, where as yet the steward had put no breakfast for him; Boyne + was supporting the dignity of the family in one of those moments of + majesty from which he was so apt to lapse into childish dependence. Lottie + offered him another alternative by absently laying hold of his napkin on + the table. + </p> + <p> + “That’s mine,” he said, with husky gloom. + </p> + <p> + She tossed it back to him with prompt disdain and a deeply eye-lashed + glance at a napkin on her right. The young man who sat next it said, with + a smile, “Perhaps that’s yours-unless I’ve taken my neighbor’s.” + </p> + <p> + Lottie gave him a stare, and when she had sufficiently punished him for + his temerity said, rather sweetly, “Oh, thank you,” and took the napkin. + </p> + <p> + “I hope we shall all have use for them before long,” the young man + ventured again. + </p> + <p> + “Well, I should think as much,” returned the girl, and this was the + beginning of a conversation which the young man shared successively with + the judge and Mrs. Kenton as opportunity offered. He gave the judge his + card across the table, and when the judge had read on it, “Rev. Hugh + Breckon,” he said that his name was Kenton, and he introduced the young + man formally to his family. Mr. Breckon had a clean-shaven face, with an + habitual smile curving into the cheeks from under a long, straight nose; + his chin had a slight whopper-jaw twist that was charming; his gay eyes + were blue, and a full vein came down his forehead between them from his + smooth hair. When he laughed, which was often, his color brightened. + </p> + <p> + Boyne was named last, and then Mr. Breckon said, with a smile that showed + all his white teeth, “Oh yes, Mr. Boyne and I are friends already—ever + since we found ourselves room-mates,” and but for us, as Lottie afterwards + noted, they might never have known Boyne was rooming with him, and could + easily have made all sorts of insulting remarks about Mr. Breckon in their + ignorance. + </p> + <p> + The possibility seemed to delight Mr. Breckon; he invited her to make all + the insulting remarks she could think of, any way, and professed himself a + loser, so far as her real opinion was withheld from him by reason of his + rashness in giving the facts away. In the electrical progress of their + acquaintance she had begun walking up and down the promenade with him + after they came up from breakfast; her mother had gone to Ellen; the judge + had been made comfortable in his steamer-chair, and Boyne had been sent + about his business. + </p> + <p> + “I will try to think some up,” she promised him, “as soon as I HAVE any + real opinion of you,” and he asked her if he might consider that a + beginning. + </p> + <p> + She looked at him out of her indomitable blue eyes, and said, “If it + hadn’t been for your card, and the Reverend on it, I should have said you + were an actor.” + </p> + <p> + “Well, well,” said Mr. Breckon, with a laugh, “perhaps I am, in a way. I + oughtn’t to be, of course, but if a minister ever forces himself, I + suppose he’s acting.” + </p> + <p> + “I don’t see,” said Lottie, instantly availing herself of the opening, + “how you can get up and pray, Sunday after Sunday, whether you feel like + it or not.” + </p> + <p> + The young man said, with another laugh, but not so gay, “Well, the case + has its difficulties.” + </p> + <p> + “Or perhaps you just read prayers,” Lottie sharply conjectured. + </p> + <p> + “No,” he returned, “I haven’t that advantage—if you think it one. + I’m a sort of a Unitarian. Very advanced, too, I’m afraid.” + </p> + <p> + “Is that a kind of Universalist?” + </p> + <p> + “Not—not exactly. There’s an old joke—I’m not sure it’s very + good—which distinguishes between the sects. It’s said that the + Universalists think God is too good to damn them, and the Unitarians think + they are too good to be damned.” Lottie shrank a little from him. “Ah!” he + cried, “you think it sounds wicked. Well, I’m sorry. I’m not clerical + enough to joke about serious things.” + </p> + <p> + He looked into her face with a pretended anxiety. “Oh, I don’t know,” she + said, with a little scorn. “I guess if you can stand it, I can.” + </p> + <p> + “I’m not sure that I can. I’m afraid it’s more in keeping with an actor’s + profession than my own. Why,” he added, as if to make a diversion, “should + you have thought I was an actor?” + </p> + <p> + “I suppose because you were clean-shaved; and your pronunciation. So + Englishy.” + </p> + <p> + “Is it? Perhaps I ought to be proud. But I’m not an Englishman. I am a + plain republican American. May I ask if you are English?” + </p> + <p> + “Oh!” said Lottie. “As if you thought such a thing. We’re from Ohio.” + </p> + <p> + Mr. Breckon said, “Ah!” Lottie could not make out in just what sense. + </p> + <p> + By this time they were leaning on the rail of the promenade, looking over + at what little was left of Long Island, and she said, abruptly: “I think I + will go and see how my father is getting along.” + </p> + <p> + “Oh, do take me with you, Miss Kenton!” Mr. Breckon entreated. “I am + feeling very badly about that poor old joke. I know you don’t think well + of me for it, and I wish to report what I’ve been saying to your father, + and let him judge me. I’ve heard that it’s hard to live up to Ohio people + when you’re at your best, and I do hope you’ll believe I have not been + quite at my best. Will you let me come with you?” + </p> + <p> + Lottie did not know whether he was making fun of her or not, but she said, + “Oh, it’s a free country,” and allowed him to go with her. + </p> + <p> + His preface made the judge look rather grave; but when he came to the + joke, Kenton laughed and said it was not bad. + </p> + <p> + “Oh, but that isn’t quite the point,” said Mr. Breckon. “The question is + whether I am good in repeating it to a young lady who was seeking serious + instruction on a point of theology.” + </p> + <p> + “I don’t know what she would have done with the instruction if she had got + it,” said the judge, dryly, and the young man ventured in her behalf: + </p> + <p> + “It would be difficult for any one to manage, perhaps.” + </p> + <p> + “Perhaps,” Kenton assented, and Lottie could see that he was thinking + Ellen would know what to do with it. + </p> + <p> + She resented that, and she was in the offence that girls feel when their + elders make them the subject of comment with their contemporaries. “Well, + I’ll leave you to discuss it alone. I’m going to Ellen,” she said, the + young man vainly following her a few paces, with apologetic gurgles of + laughter. + </p> + <p> + “That’s right,” her father consented, and then he seized the opening to + speak about Ellen. “My eldest daughter is something of an invalid, but I + hope we shall have her on deck before the voyage is over. She is more + interested in those matters than her sister.” + </p> + <p> + “Oh!” Mr. Breckon interpolated, in a note of sympathetic interest. He + could not well do more. + </p> + <p> + It was enough for Judge Kenton, who launched himself upon the celebration + of Ellen’s gifts and qualities with a simple-hearted eagerness which he + afterwards denied when his wife accused him of it, but justified as wholly + safe in view of Mr. Breckon’s calling and his obvious delicacy of mind. It + was something that such a person would understand, and Kenton was sure + that he had not unduly praised the girl. A less besotted parent might have + suspected that he had not deeply interested his listener, who seemed glad + of the diversion operated by Boyne’s coming to growl upon his father, + “Mother’s bringing Ellen up.” + </p> + <p> + “Oh, then, I mustn’t keep your chair,” said the minister, and he rose + promptly from the place he had taken beside the judge, and got himself + away to the other side of the ship before the judge could frame a fitting + request for him to stay. + </p> + <p> + “If you had,” Mrs. Kenton declared, when he regretted this to her, “I + don’t know what I would have done. It’s bad enough for him to hear you + bragging about the child without being kept to help take care of her, or + keep her amused, as you call it. I will see that Ellen is kept amused + without calling upon strangers.” She intimated that if Kenton did not act + with more self-restraint she should do little less than take Ellen ashore, + and abandon him to the voyage alone. Under the intimidation he promised + not to speak of Ellen again. + </p> + <p> + At luncheon, where Mr. Breckon again devoted himself to Lottie, he and + Ellen vied in ignoring each other after their introduction, as far as + words went. The girl smiled once or twice at what he was saying to her + sister, and his glance kindled when it detected her smile. He might be + supposed to spare her his conversation in her own interest, she looked so + little able to cope with the exigencies of the talk he kept going. + </p> + <p> + When he addressed her she answered as if she had not been listening, and + he turned back to Lottie. After luncheon he walked with her, and their + acquaintance made such a swift advance that she was able to ask him if he + laughed that way with everybody. + </p> + <p> + He laughed, and then he begged her pardon if he had been rude. + </p> + <p> + “Well, I don’t see what there is to laugh at so much. When you ask me a + thing I tell you just what I think, and it seems to set you off in a + perfect gale. Don’t you expect people to say what they think?” + </p> + <p> + “I think it’s beautiful,” said the young man, going into the gale, “and + I’ve got to expecting it of you, at any rate. But—but it’s always so + surprising! It isn’t what you expect of people generally, is it?” + </p> + <p> + “I don’t expect it of you,” said Lottie. + </p> + <p> + “No?” asked Mr. Breckon, in another gale. “Am I so uncandid?” + </p> + <p> + “I don’t know about uncandid. But I should say you were slippery.” + </p> + <p> + At this extraordinary criticism the young man looked graver than he had + yet been able to do since the beginning of their acquaintance. He said, + presently, “I wish you would explain what you mean by slippery.” + </p> + <p> + “You’re as close as a trap!” + </p> + <p> + “Really?” + </p> + <p> + “It makes me tired.” + </p> + <p> + “If you’re not too tired now I wish you would say how.” + </p> + <p> + “Oh, you understand well enough. You’ve got me to say what I think about + all sorts of things, and you haven’t expressed your opinion on a single, + solitary point?” + </p> + <p> + Lottie looked fiercely out to sea, turning her face so as to keep him from + peering around into it in the way he had. For that reason, perhaps, he did + not try to do so. He answered, seriously: “I believe you are partly right. + I’m afraid I haven’t seemed quite fair. Couldn’t you attribute my + closeness to something besides my slipperiness?” He began to laugh again. + “Can’t you imagine my being interested in your opinions so much more than + my own that I didn’t care to express mine?” + </p> + <p> + Lottie said, impatiently, “Oh, pshaw!” She had hesitated whether to say, + “Rats!” + </p> + <p> + “But now,” he pursued, “if you will suggest some point on which I can give + you an opinion, I promise solemnly to do so,” but he was not very solemn + as he spoke. + </p> + <p> + “Well, then, I will,” she said. “Don’t you think it’s very strange, to say + the least, for a minister to be always laughing so much?” + </p> + <p> + Mr. Breckon gave a peal of delight, and answered, “Yes, I certainly do.” + He controlled himself so far as to say: “Now I think I’ve been pretty open + with you, and I wish you’d answer me a question. Will you?” + </p> + <p> + “Well, I will—one,” said Lottie. + </p> + <p> + “It may be two or three; but I’ll begin with one. Why do you think a + minister ought to be more serious than other men?” + </p> + <p> + “Why? Well, I should think you’d know. You wouldn’t laugh at a funeral, + would you?” + </p> + <p> + “I’ve been at some funerals where it would have been a relief to laugh, + and I’ve wanted to cry at some weddings. But you think it wouldn’t do?” + </p> + <p> + “Of course it wouldn’t. I should think you’d know as much as that,” said + Lottie, out of patience with him. + </p> + <p> + “But a minister isn’t always marrying or burying people; and in the + intervals, why shouldn’t he be setting them an example of harmless + cheerfulness?” + </p> + <p> + “He ought to be thinking more about the other world, I should say.” + </p> + <p> + “Well, if he believes there is another world—” + </p> + <p> + “Why! Don’t you?” she broke out on him. + </p> + <p> + Mr. Breckon ruled himself and continued—“as strenuously and + unquestionably as he ought, he has greater reason than other men for + gayety through his faith in a happier state of being than this. That’s one + of the reasons I use against myself when I think of leaving off laughing. + Now, Miss Kenton,” he concluded, “for such a close and slippery nature, I + think I’ve been pretty frank,” and he looked round and down into her face + with a burst of laughter that could be heard an the other side of the + ship. He refused to take up any serious topic after that, and he returned + to his former amusement of making her give herself away. + </p> + <p> + That night Lottie came to her room with an expression so decisive in her + face that Ellen, following it with vague, dark eyes as it showed itself in + the glass at which her sister stood taking out the first dismantling + hairpins before going to bed, could not fail of something portentous in + it. + </p> + <p> + “Well,” said Lottie, with severe finality, “I haven’t got any use for THAT + young man from this time out. Of all the tiresome people, he certainly + takes the cake. You can have him, Ellen, if you want him.” + </p> + <p> + “What’s the matter with him?” asked Ellen, with a voice in sympathy with + the slow movement of her large eyes as she lay in her berth, staring at + Lottie. + </p> + <p> + “There’s everything the matter, that oughtn’t to be. He’s too trivial for + anything: I like a man that’s serious about one thing in the universe, at + least, and that’s just what Mr. Breckon isn’t.” She went at such length + into his disabilities that by the time she returned to the climax with + which she started she was ready to clamber into the upper berth; and as + she snapped the electric button at its head she repeated, “He’s trivial.” + </p> + <p> + “Isn’t it getting rough?” asked Ellen. “The ship seems to be tipping.” + </p> + <p> + “Yes, it is,” said Lottie, crossly. “Good-night.” + </p> + <p> + If the Rev. Mr. Breckon was making an early breakfast in the hope of + sooner meeting Lottie, who had dismissed him the night before without + encouraging him to believe that she wished ever to see him again, he was + destined to disappointment. The deputation sent to breakfast by the + paradoxical family whose acquaintance he had made on terms of each + forbidding intimacy, did not include the girl who had frankly provoked his + confidence and severely snubbed it. He had left her brother very sea-sick + in their state-room, and her mother was reported by her father to be + feeling the motion too much to venture out. The judge was, in fact, the + only person at table when Breckon sat down; but when he had accounted for + his wife’s absence, and confessed that he did not believe either of his + daughters was coming, Ellen gainsaid him by appearing and advancing quite + steadily along the saloon to the place beside him. It had not gone so far + as this in the judge’s experience of a neurotic invalid without his + learning to ask her no questions about herself. He had always a hard task + in refraining, but he had grown able to refrain, and now he merely looked + unobtrusively glad to see her, and asked her where Lottie was. + </p> + <p> + “Oh, she doesn’t want any breakfast, she says. Is momma sick, too? Where’s + Boyne?” + </p> + <p> + The judge reported as to her mother, and Mr. Breckon, after the exchange + of a silent salutation with the girl, had a gleeful moment in describing + Boyne’s revolt at the steward’s notion of gruel. “I’m glad to see you so + well, Miss Kenton,” he concluded. + </p> + <p> + “I suppose I will be sick, too, if it gets rougher,” she said, and she + turned from him to give a rather compendious order to the table steward. + </p> + <p> + “Well, you’ve got an appetite, Ellen,” her father ventured. + </p> + <p> + “I don’t believe I will eat anything,” she checked him, with a falling + face. + </p> + <p> + Breckon came to the aid of the judge. “If you’re not sick now, I prophesy + you won’t be, Miss Kenton. It can’t get much rougher, without doing + something uncommon.” + </p> + <p> + “Is it a storm?” she asked, indifferently. + </p> + <p> + “It’s what they call half a gale, I believe. I don’t know how they measure + it.” + </p> + <p> + She smiled warily in response to his laugh, and said to her father, “Are + you going up after breakfast, poppa?” + </p> + <p> + “Why, if you want to go, Ellen—” + </p> + <p> + “Oh, I wasn’t asking for that; I am going back to Lottie. But I should + think you would like the air. Won’t it do you good?” + </p> + <p> + “I’m all right,” said the judge, cheered by her show of concern for some + one else. “I suppose it’s rather wet on deck?” he referred himself to + Breckon. + </p> + <p> + “Well, not very, if you keep to the leeward. She doesn’t seem a very wet + boat.” + </p> + <p> + “What is a wet boat” Ellen asked, without lifting her sad eyes. + </p> + <p> + “Well, really, I’m afraid it’s largely a superstition. Passengers like to + believe that some boats are less liable to ship seas—to run into + waves—than others; but I fancy that’s to give themselves the air of + old travellers.” + </p> + <p> + She let the matter lapse so entirely that he supposed she had forgotten it + in all its bearings, when she asked, “Have you been across many times?” + </p> + <p> + “Not many-four or five.” + </p> + <p> + “This is our first time,” she volunteered. + </p> + <p> + “I hope it won’t be your last. I know you will enjoy it.” She fell + listless again, and Breckon imagined he had made a break. “Not,” he added, + with an endeavor for lightness, “that I suppose you’re going for pleasure + altogether. Women, nowadays, are above that, I understand. They go abroad + for art’s sake, and to study political economy, and history, and + literature—” + </p> + <p> + “My daughter,” the judge interposed, “will not do much in that way, I + hope.” + </p> + <p> + The girl bent her head over her plate and frowned. + </p> + <p> + “Oh, then,” said Breckon, “I will believe that she’s going for purely + selfish enjoyment. I should like to be justified in making that my object + by a good example.” + </p> + <p> + Ellen looked up and gave him a look that cut him short in his glad note. + The lifting of her eyelids was like the rise of the curtain upon some + scene of tragedy which was all the more impressive because it seemed + somehow mixed with shame. This poor girl, whom he had pitied as an + invalid, was a sufferer from some spiritual blight more pathetic than + broken health. He pulled his mind away from the conjecture that tempted it + and went on: “One of the advantages of going over the fourth or fifth time + is that you’re relieved from a discoverer’s duties to Europe. I’ve got + absolutely nothing before me now, but at first I had to examine every + object of interest on the Continent, and form an opinion about thousands + of objects that had no interest for me. I hope Miss Kenton will take + warning from me.” + </p> + <p> + He had not addressed Ellen directly, and her father answered: “We have no + definite plans as yet, but we don’t mean to overwork ourselves even if + we’ve come for a rest. I don’t know,” he added, “but we had better spend + our summer in England. It’s easier getting about where you know the + language.” + </p> + <p> + The judge seemed to refer his ideas to Breckon for criticism, and the + young man felt authorized to say, “Oh, so many of them know the language + everywhere now, that it’s easy getting about in any country.” + </p> + <p> + “Yes, I suppose so,” the judge vaguely deferred. + </p> + <p> + “Which,” Ellen demanded of the young man with a nervous suddenness, “do + you think is the most interesting country?” + </p> + <p> + He found himself answering with equal promptness, “Oh, Italy, of course.” + </p> + <p> + “Can we go to Italy, poppa?” asked the girl. + </p> + <p> + “I shouldn’t advise you to go there at once” Breckon intervened, smiling. + “You’d find it Pretty hot there now. Florence, or Rome, or Naples—you + can’t think of them.” + </p> + <p> + “We have it pretty hot in Central Ohio,” said the judge, with latent pride + in his home climate, “What sort of place is Holland?” + </p> + <p> + “Oh, delightful! And the boat goes right on to Rotterdam, you know.” + </p> + <p> + “Yes. We had arranged to leave it at Boulogne,” but we could change. “Do + you think your mother would like Holland?” The judge turned to his + daughter. + </p> + <p> + “I think she would like Italy better. She’s read more about it,” said the + girl. + </p> + <p> + “Rise of the Dutch Republic,” her father suggested. + </p> + <p> + “Yes, I know. But she’s read more about Italy!” + </p> + <p> + “Oh, well,” Breckon yielded, “the Italian lakes wouldn’t be impossible. + And you might find Venice fairly comfortable.” + </p> + <p> + “We could go to Italy, then,” said the judge to his daughter, “if your + mother prefers.” + </p> + <p> + Breckon found the simplicity of this charming, and he tasted a yet finer + pleasure in the duplicity; for he divined that the father was seeking only + to let his daughter have her way in pretending to yield to her mother’s + preference. + </p> + <p> + It was plain that the family’s life centred, as it ought, about this sad, + sick girl, the heart of whose mystery he perceived, on reflection, he had + not the wish to pluck out. He might come to know it, but he would not try + to know it; if it offered itself he might even try not to know it. He had + sometimes found it more helpful with trouble to be ignorant of its cause. + </p> + <p> + In the mean time he had seen that these Kentons were sweet, good people, + as he phrased their quality to himself. He had come to terms of impersonal + confidence the night before with Boyne, who had consulted him upon many + more problems and predicaments of life than could have yet beset any boy’s + experience, probably with the wish to make provision for any possible + contingency of the future. The admirable principles which Boyne evolved + for his guidance from their conversation were formulated with a gravity + which Breckon could outwardly respect only by stifling his laughter in his + pillow. He rather liked the way Lottie had tried to weigh him in her + balance and found him, as it were, of an imponderable levity. With his + sense of being really very light at most times, and with most people, he + was aware of having been particularly light with Lottie, of having been + slippery, of having, so far as responding to her frankness was concerned, + been close. He relished the unsparing honesty with which she had denounced + him, and though he did not yet know his outcast condition with relation to + her, he could not think of her without a smile of wholly disinterested + liking. He did not know, as a man of earlier date would have known, all + that the little button in the judge’s lapel meant; but he knew that it + meant service in the civil war, a struggle which he vaguely and + impersonally revered, though its details were of much the same dimness for + him as those of the Revolution and the War of 1812. The modest distrust + which had grown upon the bold self-confidence of Kenton’s earlier manhood + could not have been more tenderly and reverently imagined; and Breckon’s + conjecture of things suffered for love’s sake against sense and conviction + in him were his further tribute to a character which existed, of course, + mainly in this conjecture. It appeared to him that Kenton was held not + only in the subjection to his wife’s, judgment, which befalls, and + doubtless becomes, a man after many years of marriage, but that he was in + the actual performance of more than common renunciation of his judgment in + deference to the good woman. She in turn, to be sure, offered herself a + sacrifice to the whims of the sick girl, whose worst whim was having no + wish that could be ascertained, and who now, after two days of her + mother’s devotion, was cast upon her own resources by the inconstant + barometer. It had become apparent that Miss Kenton was her father’s + favorite in a special sense, and that his partial affection for her was of + much older date than her mother’s. Not less charming than her fondness for + her father was the openness with which she disabled his wisdom because of + his partiality to her. + </p> + <p> + <a name="link2H_4_0010" id="link2H_4_0010"> + <!-- H2 anchor --> </a> + </p> + <div style="height: 4em;"> + <br /><br /><br /><br /> + </div> + <h2> + X + </h2> + <p> + When they left the breakfast table the first morning of the rough weather, + Breckon offered to go on deck with Miss Kenton, and put her where she + could see the waves. That had been her shapeless ambition, dreamily + expressed with reference to some time, as they rose. Breckon asked, “Why + not now?” and he promised to place her chair on deck where she could enjoy + the spectacle safe from any seas the boat might ship. Then she recoiled, + and she recoiled the further upon her father’s urgence. At the foot of the + gangway she looked wistfully up the reeling stairs, and said that she saw + her shawl and Lottie’s among the others solemnly swaying from the top + railing. “Oh, then,” Breckon pressed her, “you could be made comfortable + without the least trouble.” + </p> + <p> + “I ought to go and see how Lottie is getting along,” she murmured. + </p> + <p> + Her father said he would see for her, and on this she explicitly renounced + her ambition of going up. “You couldn’t do anything,” she said, coldly. + </p> + <p> + “If Miss Lottie is very sea-sick she’s beyond all earthly aid,” Breckon + ventured. “She’d better be left to the vain ministrations of the + stewardess.” + </p> + <p> + Ellen looked at him in apparent distrust of his piety, if not of his + wisdom. “I don’t believe I could get up the stairs,” she said. + </p> + <p> + “Well,” he admitted, “they’re not as steady as land—going stairs.” + Her father discreetly kept silence, and, as no one offered to help her, + she began to climb the crazy steps, with Breckon close behind her in + latent readiness for her fall. + </p> + <p> + From the top she called down to the judge, “Tell momma I will only stay a + minute.” But later, tucked into her chair on the lee of the bulkhead, with + Breckon bracing himself against it beside her, she showed no impatience to + return. “Are they never higher than that” she required of him, with her + wan eyes critically on the infinite procession of the surges. + </p> + <p> + “They must be,” Breckon answered, “if there’s any truth in common report. + I’ve heard of their running mountains high. Perhaps they used rather low + mountains to measure them by. Or the measurements may not have been very + exact. But common report never leaves much to the imagination.” + </p> + <p> + “That was the way at Niagara,” the girl assented; and Breckon obligingly + regretted that he had never been there. He thought it in good taste that + she should not tell him he ought to go. She merely said, “I was there once + with poppa,” and did not press her advantage. “Do they think,” she asked, + “that it’s going to be a very long voyage?” + </p> + <p> + “I haven’t been to the smoking-room—that’s where most of the + thinking is done on such points; the ship’s officers never seem to know + about it—since the weather changed. Should you mind it greatly?” + </p> + <p> + “I wouldn’t care if it never ended,” said the girl, with such a note of + dire sincerity that Breckon instantly changed his first mind as to her + words implying a pose. She took any deeper implication from them in + adding, “I didn’t know I should like being at sea.” + </p> + <p> + “Well, if you’re not sea-sick,” he assented, “there are not many + pleasanter things in life.” + </p> + <p> + She suggested, “I suppose I’m not well enough to be sea-sick.” Then she + seemed to become aware of something provisional in his attendance, and she + said, “You mustn’t stay on my account. I can get down when I want to.” + </p> + <p> + “Do let me stay,” he entreated, “unless you’d really rather not,” and as + there was no chair immediately attainable, he crouched on the deck beside + hers. + </p> + <p> + “It makes me think,” she said, and he perceived that she meant the sea, + “of the cold-white, heavy plunging foam in ‘The Dream of Fair Women.’ The + words always seemed drenched!” + </p> + <p> + “Ah, Tennyson, yes,” said Breckon, with a disposition to smile at the + simple-heartedness of the literary allusion. “Do young ladies read poetry + much in Ohio?” + </p> + <p> + “I don’t believe they do,” she answered. “Do they anywhere?” + </p> + <p> + “That’s one of the things I should like to know. Is Tennyson your favorite + poet?” + </p> + <p> + “I don’t believe I have any,” said Ellen. “I used to like Whither, and + Emerson; aid Longfellow, too.” + </p> + <p> + “Used to! Don’t you now?” + </p> + <p> + “I don’t read them so much now,” and she made a pause, behind which he + fancied her secret lurked. But he shrank from knowing it if he might. + </p> + <p> + “You’re all great readers in your family,” he suggested, as a polite + diversion. + </p> + <p> + “Lottie isn’t,” she answered, dreamily. “She hates it.” + </p> + <p> + “Ah, I referred more particularly to the others,” said Breckon, and he + began to laugh, and then checked himself. “Your mother, and the judge—and + your brother—” + </p> + <p> + “Boyne reads about insects,” she admitted. + </p> + <p> + “He told me of his collection of cocoons. He seems to be afraid it has + suffered in his absence.” + </p> + <p> + “I’m afraid it has,” said Ellen, and then remained silent. + </p> + <p> + “There!” the young man broke out, pointing seaward. “That’s rather a fine + one. Doesn’t that realize your idea of something mountains high? Unless + your mountains are very high in Ohio!” + </p> + <p> + “It is grand. And the gulf between! But we haven’t any in our part. It’s + all level. Do you believe the tenth wave is larger than the rest?” + </p> + <p> + “Why, the difficulty is to know which the tenth wave is, or when to begin + counting.” + </p> + <p> + “Yes,” said the girl, and she added, vaguely: “I suppose it’s like + everything else in that. We have to make-believe before we can believe + anything.” + </p> + <p> + “Something like an hypothesis certainly seems necessary,” Breckon + assented, with a smile for the gravity of their discourse. “We shouldn’t + have the atomic theory without it.” She did not say anything, and he + decided that the atomic theory was beyond the range of her reading. He + tried to be more concrete. “We have to make-believe in ourselves before we + can believe, don’t we? And then we sometimes find we are wrong!” He + laughed, but she asked, with tragical seriousness: + </p> + <p> + “And what ought you to do when you find out you are mistaken in yourself?” + </p> + <p> + “That’s what I’m trying to decide,” he replied. “Sometimes I feel like + renouncing myself altogether; but usually I give myself another chance. I + dare say if I hadn’t been so forbearing I might have agreed with your + sister about my unfitness for the ministry.” + </p> + <p> + “With Lottie?” + </p> + <p> + “She thinks I laugh too much!” + </p> + <p> + “I don’t see why a minister shouldn’t laugh if he feels like it. And if + there’s something to laugh at.” + </p> + <p> + “Ah, that’s just the point! Is there ever anything to laugh at? If we + looked closely enough at things, oughtn’t we rather to cry?” He laughed in + retreat from the serious proposition. “But it wouldn’t do to try making + each other cry instead of laugh, would it? I suppose your sister would + rather have me cry.” + </p> + <p> + “I don’t believe Lottie thought much about it,” said Ellen; and at this + point Mr. Breckon yielded to an impulse. + </p> + <p> + “I should think I had really been of some use if I had made you laugh, + Miss Kenton.” + </p> + <p> + “Me?” + </p> + <p> + “You look as if you laughed with your whole heart when you did laugh.” + </p> + <p> + She glanced about, and Breckon decided that she had found him too + personal. “I wonder if I could walk, with the ship tipping so?” she asked. + </p> + <p> + “Well, not far,” said Breckon, with a provisional smile, and then he was + frightened from his irony by her flinging aside her wraps and starting to + her feet. Before he could scramble to his own, she had slid down the + reeling promenade half to the guard, over which she seemed about to + plunge. He hurled himself after her; he could not have done otherwise; and + it was as much in a wild clutch for support as in a purpose to save her + that he caught her in his arms and braced himself against the ship’s + slant. “Where are you going? What are you trying to do?” he shouted. + </p> + <p> + “I wanted to go down-stairs,” she protested, clinging to him. + </p> + <p> + “You were nearer going overboard,” he retorted. “You shouldn’t have + tried.” He had not fully formulated his reproach when the ship righted + herself with a counter-roll and plunge, and they were swung staggering + back together against the bulkhead. The door of the gangway was within + reach, and Breckon laid hold of the rail beside it and put the girl + within. “Are you hurt?” he asked. + </p> + <p> + “No, no; I’m not hurt,” she panted, sinking on the cushioned benching + where usually rows of semi-sea-sick people were lying. + </p> + <p> + “I thought you might have been bruised against the bulkhead,” he said. + “Are you sure you’re not hurt that I can’t get you anything? From the + steward, I mean?” + </p> + <p> + “Only help me down-stairs,” she answered. “I’m perfectly well,” and + Breckon was so willing on these terms to close the incident that he was + not aware of the bruise on his own arm, which afterwards declared itself + in several primitive colors. “Don’t tell them,” she added. “I want to come + up again.” + </p> + <p> + “Why, certainly not,” he consented; but Boyne Kenton, who had been an + involuntary witness of the fact from a point on the forward promenade, + where he had stationed himself to study the habits of the stormy petrel at + a moment so favorable to the acquaintance of the petrel (having left a + seasick bed for the purpose), was of another mind. He had been alarmed, + and, as it appeared in the private interview which he demanded of his + mother, he had been scandalized. + </p> + <p> + “It is bad enough the way Lottie is always going on with fellows. And now, + if Ellen is going to begin!” + </p> + <p> + “But, Boyne, child,” Mrs. Kenton argued, in an equilibrium between the + wish to laugh at her son and the wish to box his ears, “how could she help + his catching her if he was to save her from pitching overboard?” + </p> + <p> + “That’s just it! He will always think that she did it just so he would + have to catch her.” + </p> + <p> + “I don’t believe any one would think that of Ellen,” said Mrs. Kenton, + gravely. + </p> + <p> + “Momma! You don’t know what these Eastern fellows are. There are so few of + them that they’re used to having girls throw themselves at them, and they + will think anything, ministers and all. You ought to talk to Ellen, and + caution her. Of course, she isn’t like Lottie; but if Lottie’s been + behaving her way with Mr. Breckon, he must suppose the rest of the family + is like her.” + </p> + <p> + “Boyne,” said his mother, provisionally, “what sort of person is Mr. + Breckon?” + </p> + <p> + “Well, I think he’s kind of frivolous.” + </p> + <p> + “Do you, Boyne?” + </p> + <p> + “I don’t suppose he means any harm by it, but I don’t like to see a + minister laugh so much. I can’t hardly get him to talk seriously about + anything. And I just know he makes fun of Lottie. I don’t mean that he + always makes fun with me. He didn’t that night at the vaudeville, where I + first saw him.” + </p> + <p> + “What do you mean?” + </p> + <p> + “Don’t you remember? I told you about it last winter.” + </p> + <p> + “And was Mr. Breckon that gentleman?” + </p> + <p> + “Yes; but he didn’t know who I was when we met here.” + </p> + <p> + “Well, upon my word, Boyne, I think you might have told us before,” said + his mother, in not very definite vexation. “Go along, now!” + </p> + <p> + Boyne stood talking to his mother, with his hands, which he had not grown + to, largely planted on the jambs of her state-room door. She was keeping + her berth, not so much because she was sea-sick as because it was the + safest place in the unsteady ship to be in. “Do you want me to send Ellen + to you!” + </p> + <p> + “I will attend to Ellen, Boyne,” his mother snubbed him. “How is Lottie?” + </p> + <p> + “I can’t tell whether she’s sick or not. I went to see about her and she + motioned me away, and fairly screamed when I told her she ought to keep + out in the air. Well, I must be going up again myself, or—” + </p> + <p> + Before lunch, Boyne had experienced the alternative which he did not + express, although his theory and practice of keeping in the open air ought + to have rendered him immune. Breckon saw his shock of hair, and his large + eyes, like Ellen’s in their present gloom, looking out of it on the pillow + of the upper berth, when he went to their room to freshen himself for the + luncheon, and found Boyne averse even to serious conversation: He went to + lunch without him. None of the Kentons were at table, and he had made up + his mind to lunch alone when Ellen appeared, and came wavering down the + aisle to the table. He stood up to help her, but seeing how securely she + stayed herself from chair to chair he sank down again. + </p> + <p> + “Poppy is sick, too, now,” she replied, as if to account for being alone. + </p> + <p> + “And you’re none the worse for your little promenade?” The steward came to + Breckon’s left shoulder with a dish, and after an effort to serve himself + from it he said, with a slight gasp, “The other side, please.” Ellen + looked at him, but did not speak, and he made haste to say: “The doctor + goes so far as to admit that its half a gale. I don’t know just what + measure the first officer would have for it. But I congratulate you on a + very typical little storm, Miss Kenton; perfectly safe, but very decided. + A great many people cross the Atlantic without anything half as + satisfactory. There is either too much or too little of this sort of + thing.” He went on talking about the weather, and had got such a distance + from the point of beginning that he had cause to repent being brought back + to it when she asked: + </p> + <p> + “Did the doctor think, you were hurt?” + </p> + <p> + “Well, perhaps I ought to be more ashamed than I am,” said Breckon. “But I + thought I had better make sure. And it’s only a bruise—” + </p> + <p> + “Won’t you let ME help you!” she asked, as another dish intervened at his + right. “I hurt you.” + </p> + <p> + Breckon laughed at her solemn face and voice. “If you’ll exonerate + yourself first,” he answered: “I couldn’t touch a morsel that conveyed + confession of the least culpability on your part. Do you consent? + Otherwise, I pass this dish. And really I want some!” + </p> + <p> + “Well,” she sadly consented, and he allowed her to serve his plate. + </p> + <p> + “More yet, please,” he said. “A lot!” + </p> + <p> + “Is that enough?” + </p> + <p> + “Well, for the first helping. And don’t offer to cut it up for me! My + proud spirit draws the line at cutting up. Besides, a fork will do the + work with goulash.” + </p> + <p> + “Is that what it is?” she asked, but not apparently because she cared to + know. + </p> + <p> + “Unless you prefer to naturalize it as stew. It seems to have come in with + the Hungarian bands. I suppose you have them in—” + </p> + <p> + “Tuskingum? No, it is too small. But I heard them at a restaurant in New + York where my brother took us.” + </p> + <p> + “In the spirit of scientific investigation? It’s strange how a common + principle seems to pervade both the Hungarian music and cooking—the + same wandering airs and flavors—wild, vague, lawless harmonies in + both. Did you notice it?” + </p> + <p> + Ellen shook her head. The look of gloom which seemed to Breckon habitual + in it came back into her face, and he had a fantastic temptation to see + how far he could go with her sad consciousness before she should be aware + that he was experimenting upon it. He put this temptation from him, and + was in the enjoyment of a comfortable self-righteousness when it returned + in twofold power upon him with the coming of some cutlets which + capriciously varied the repast. + </p> + <p> + “Ah, now, Miss Kenton, if you were to take pity on my helplessness!” + </p> + <p> + “Why, certainly!” She possessed herself of his plate, and began to cut up + the meat for him. “Am I making the bites too small?” she asked, with an + upward glance at him. + </p> + <p> + “Well, I don’t know. Should you think so?” he returned, with a smile that + out-measured the morsels on the plate before her. + </p> + <p> + She met his laughing eyes with eyes that questioned his honesty, at first + sadly, and then indignantly. She dropped the knife and fork upon the plate + and rose. + </p> + <p> + “Oh, Miss Kenton!” he penitently entreated. + </p> + <p> + But she was down the slanting aisle and out of the reeling door before he + could decide what to do. + </p> + <p> + <a name="link2H_4_0011" id="link2H_4_0011"> + <!-- H2 anchor --> </a> + </p> + <div style="height: 4em;"> + <br /><br /><br /><br /> + </div> + <h2> + XI. + </h2> + <p> + It seemed to Breckon that he had passed through one of those accessions of + temperament, one of those crises of natural man, to put it in the terms of + an older theology than he professed, that might justify him in recurring + to his original sense of his unfitness for his sacred calling, as he would + hardly ham called it: He had allowed his levity to get the better of his + sympathy, and his love of teasing to overpower that love of helping which + seemed to him his chief right and reason for being a minister: To play a + sort of poor practical joke upon that melancholy girl (who was also so + attractive) was not merely unbecoming to him as a minister; it was cruel; + it was vulgar; it was ungentlemanly. He could not say less than + ungentlemanly, for that seemed to give him the only pang that did him any + good. Her absolute sincerity had made her such an easy prey that he ought + to have shrunk from the shabby temptation in abhorrence. + </p> + <p> + It is the privilege of a woman, whether she wills it or not, to put a man + who is in the wrong concerning her much further in the wrong than he could + be from his offence. Breckon did not know whether he was suffering more or + less because he was suffering quite hopelessly, but he was sure that he + was suffering justly, and he was rather glad, if anything, that he must go + on suffering. His first impulse had been to go at once to Judge Kenton and + own his wrong, and take the consequences—in fact, invite them. But + Breckon forbore for two reasons: one, that he had already appeared before + the judge with the confession of having possibly made an unclerical joke + to his younger daughter; the other, that the judge might not consider + levity towards the elder so venial; and though Breckon wished to be both + punished and pardoned, in the final analysis, perhaps, he most wished to + be pardoned. Without pardon he could see no way to repair the wrong he had + done. Perhaps he wished even to retrieve himself in the girl’s eyes, or + wished for the chance of trying. + </p> + <p> + Ellen went away to her state-room and sat down on the sofa opposite + Lottie, and she lost herself in a muse in which she was found by the voice + of the sufferer in the berth. + </p> + <p> + “If you haven’t got anything better to do than come in here and stare at + me, I wish you would go somewhere else and stare. I can tell you it isn’t + any joke.” + </p> + <p> + “I didn’t know I was staring at you,” said Ellen, humbly. + </p> + <p> + “It would be enough to have you rising and sinking there, without your + staring at all: If you’re going to stay, I wish you’d lie down. I don’t + see why you’re so well, anyway, after getting us all to come on this + wild-goose chase.” + </p> + <p> + “I know, I know,” Ellen strickenly deprecated. “But I’m not going to stay. + I jest came for my things.” + </p> + <p> + “Is that giggling simpleton sick? I hope he is!” + </p> + <p> + “Mr. Breckon?” Ellen asked, though she knew whom Lottie meant. “No, he + isn’t sick. He was at lunch.” + </p> + <p> + “Was poppa?” + </p> + <p> + “He was at breakfast.” + </p> + <p> + “And momma?” + </p> + <p> + “She and Boyne are both in bed. I don’t know whether they’re very sick.” + </p> + <p> + “Well, then, I’ll just tell you what, Ellen Kenton!” Lottie sat up in + accusal. “You were staring at something he said; and the first thing we + all know it will be another case of Bittridge!” Ellen winced, but Lottie + had no pity. “You don’t know it, because you don’t know anything, and I’m + not blaming you; but if you let that simpleton—I don’t care if he is + a minister!—go ‘round with you when your family are all sick abed, + you’ll be having the whole ship to look after you.” + </p> + <p> + “Be still, Lottie!” cried Ellen. “You are awful,” and, with a flaming + face, she escaped from the state-room. + </p> + <p> + She did not know where else to go, and she beat along the sides of the + corridor as far as the dining-saloon. She had a dim notion of trying to go + up into the music-room above, but a glance at the reeling steep of the + stairs forbade. With her wraps on her arm and her sea-cap in her hand, she + stood clinging to the rail-post. + </p> + <p> + Breckon came out of the saloon. “Oh, Miss Kenton,” he humbly entreated, + “don’t try to go on deck! It’s rougher than ever.” + </p> + <p> + “I was going to the music-room,” she faltered. + </p> + <p> + “Let me help you, then,” he said again. They mounted the gangway-steps, + but this time with his hand under her elbow, and his arm alert as before + in a suspended embrace against her falling. + </p> + <p> + She had lost the initiative of her earlier adventure; she could only + submit herself to his guidance. But he almost outdid her in meekness, when + he got her safely placed in a corner whence she could not be easily flung + upon the floor. “You must have found it very stuffy below; but, indeed, + you’d better not try going out.” + </p> + <p> + “Do you think it isn’t safe here?” she asked. + </p> + <p> + “Oh yes. As long as you keep quiet. May I get you something to read? They + seem to have a pretty good little library.” + </p> + <p> + They both glanced at the case of books; from which the steward-librarian + was setting them the example of reading a volume. + </p> + <p> + “No, I don’t want to read. You musn’t let me keep you from it.” + </p> + <p> + “Well, one can read any time. But one hasn’t always the chance to say that + one is ashamed. Don’t pretend you don’t understand, Miss Kenton! I didn’t + really mean anything. The temptation to let you exaggerate my disability + was too much for me. Say that you despise me! It would be such a comfort.” + </p> + <p> + “Weren’t you hurt?” + </p> + <p> + “A little—a little more than a little, but not half so much as I + deserved—not to the point of not being able to cut up my meat. Am I + forgiven? I’ll promise to cut up all your meat for you at dinner! Ah, I’m + making it worse!” + </p> + <p> + “Oh no. Please don’t speak of it” + </p> + <p> + “Could you forbid my thinking of it, too?” He did not wait for her to + answer. “Then here goes! One, two, three, and the thought is banished + forever. Now what shall we speak of, or think of? We finished up the + weather pretty thoroughly this morning. And if you have not the weather + and the ship’s run when you’re at sea, why, you are at sea. Don’t you + think it would be a good plan, when they stick those little flags into the + chart, to show how far we’ve come in the last twenty-four hours, if they’d + supply a topic for the day? They might have topics inscribed on the + flags-standard topics, that would serve for any voyage. We might leave + port with History—say, personal history; that would pave the way to + a general acquaintance among the passengers. Then Geography, and if the + world is really round, and what keeps the sea from spilling. Then + Politics, and the comparative advantages of monarchical and republican + governments, for international discussion. Then Pathology, and whether + you’re usually sea-sick, and if there is any reliable remedy. Then—for + those who are still up—Poetry and Fiction; whether women really like + Kipling, and what kind of novels you prefer. There ought to be about ten + topics. These boats are sometimes very slow. Can’t you suggest something, + Miss Kenton? There is no hurry! We’ve got four to talk over, for we must + bring up the arrears, you know. And now we’ll begin with personal history. + Your sister doesn’t approve of me, does she?” + </p> + <p> + “My sister?” Ellen faltered, and, between the conscience to own the fact + and the kindness to deny it, she stopped altogether. + </p> + <p> + “I needn’t have asked. She told me so herself, in almost as many words. + She said I was slippery, and as close as a trap. Miss Kenton! I have the + greatest wish to know whether I affect you as both slippery and close!” + </p> + <p> + “I don’t always know what Lottie means.” + </p> + <p> + “She means what she says; and I feel that I am under condemnation till I + reform. I don’t know how to stop being slippery, but I’m determined to + stop being close. Will you tell her that for me? Will you tell her that + you never met an opener, franker person?—of course, except herself!—and + that so far from being light I seemed to you particularly heavy? Say that + I did nothing but talk about myself, and that when you wanted to talk + about yourself you couldn’t get in a word edgewise. Do try, now, Miss + Kenton, and see if you can! I don’t want you to invent a character for me, + quite.” + </p> + <p> + “Why, there’s nothing to say about me,” she began in compliance with his + gayety, and then she fell helpless from it. + </p> + <p> + “Well, then, about Tuskingum. I should like to hear about Tuskingum, so + much!” + </p> + <p> + “I suppose we like it because we’ve always lived there. You haven’t been + much in the West, have you?” + </p> + <p> + “Not as much as I hope to be.” He had found that Western people were + sometimes sensitive concerning their section and were prepared to resent + complacent ignorance of it. “I’ve always thought it must be very + interesting.” + </p> + <p> + “It isn’t,” said the girl. “At least, not like the East. I used to be + provoked when the lecturers said anything like that; but when you’ve been + to New York you see what they mean.” + </p> + <p> + “The lecturers?” he queried. + </p> + <p> + “They always stayed at our house when they lectured in Tuskingum.” + </p> + <p> + “Ah! Oh yes,” said Breckon, grasping a situation of which he had heard + something, chiefly satirical. “Of course. And is your father—is + Judge Kenton literary? Excuse me!” + </p> + <p> + “Only in his history. He’s writing the history of his regiment; or he gets + the soldiers to write down all they can remember of the war, and then he + puts their stories together.” + </p> + <p> + “How delightful!” said Breckon. “And I suppose it’s a great pleasure to + him.” + </p> + <p> + “I don’t believe it is,” said Ellen. “Poppa doesn’t believe in war any + more.” + </p> + <p> + “Indeed!” said Breckon. “That is very interesting.” + </p> + <p> + “Sometimes when I’m helping him with it—” + </p> + <p> + “Ah, I knew you must help him!” + </p> + <p> + “And he comes to a place where there has been a dreadful slaughter, it + seems as if he felt worse about it than I did. He isn’t sure that it + wasn’t all wrong. He thinks all war is wrong now.” + </p> + <p> + “Is he—has he become a follower of Tolstoy?” + </p> + <p> + “He’s read him. He says he’s the only man that ever gave a true account of + battles; but he had thought it all out for himself before he read Tolstoy + about fighting. Do you think it is right to revenge an injury?” + </p> + <p> + “Why, surely not!” said Breckon, rather startled. + </p> + <p> + “That is what we say,” the girl pursued. “But if some one had injured you—abused + your confidence, and—insulted you, what would you do?” + </p> + <p> + “I’m not sure that I understand,” Breckon began. The inquiry was + superficially impersonal, but he reflected that women are never + impersonal, or the sons of women, for that matter, and he suspected an + intimate ground. His suspicions were confirmed when Miss Kenton said: “It + seems easy enough to forgive anything that’s done to yourself; but if it’s + done to some one else, too, have you the right—isn’t it wrong to let + it go?” + </p> + <p> + “You think the question of justice might come in then? Perhaps it ought. + But what is justice? And where does your duty begin to be divided?” He saw + her following him with alarming intensity, and he shrank from the + responsibility before him. What application might not she make of his + words in the case, whatever it was, which he chose not to imagine? “To + tell you the truth, Miss Kenton, I’m not very clear on that point—I’m + not sure that I’m disinterested.” + </p> + <p> + “Disinterested?” + </p> + <p> + “Yes; you know that I abused your confidence at luncheon; and until I know + whether the wrong involved any one else—” He looked at her with + hovering laughter in his eyes which took wing at the reproach in hers. + “But if we are to be serious—” + </p> + <p> + “Oh no,” she said, “it isn’t a serious matter.” But in the helplessness of + her sincerity she could not carry it off lightly, or hide from him that + she was disappointed. + </p> + <p> + He tried to make talk about other things. She responded vaguely, and when + she had given herself time she said she believed she would go to Lottie; + she was quite sure she could get down the stairs alone. He pursued her + anxiously, politely, and at the head of her corridor took leave of her + with a distinct sense of having merited his dismissal. + </p> + <p> + “I see what you mean, Lottie,” she said, “about Mr. Breckon.” + </p> + <p> + Lottie did not turn her head on the pillow. “Has it taken you the whole + day to find it out?” + </p> + <p> + <a name="link2H_4_0012" id="link2H_4_0012"> + <!-- H2 anchor --> </a> + </p> + <div style="height: 4em;"> + <br /><br /><br /><br /> + </div> + <h2> + XII. + </h2> + <p> + The father and the mother had witnessed with tempered satisfaction the + interest which seemed to be growing up between Ellen and the young + minister. By this time they had learned not to expect too much of any turn + she might take; she reverted to a mood as suddenly as she left it. They + could not quite make out Breckon himself; he was at least as great a + puzzle to them as their own child was. + </p> + <p> + “It seems,” said Mrs. Kenton, in their first review of the affair, after + Boyne had done a brother’s duty in trying to bring Ellen under their + mother’s censure, “that he was the gentleman who discussed the theatre + with Boyne at the vaudeville last winter. Boyne just casually mentioned + it. I was so provoked!” + </p> + <p> + “I don’t see what bearing the fact has,” the judge remarked. + </p> + <p> + “Why, Boyne liked him very much that night, but now he seems to feel very + much as Lottie does about him. He thinks he laughs too much.” + </p> + <p> + “I don’t know that there’s much harm in that,” said the judge. “And I + shouldn’t value Boyne’s opinion of character very highly.” + </p> + <p> + “I value any one’s intuitions—especially children’s.” + </p> + <p> + “Boyne’s in that middle state where he isn’t quite a child. And so is + Lottie, for that matter.” + </p> + <p> + “That is true,” their mother assented. “And we ought to be glad of + anything that takes Ellen’s mind off herself. If I could only believe she + was forgetting that wretch!” + </p> + <p> + “Does she ever speak of him?” + </p> + <p> + “She never hints of him, even. But her mind may be full of him all the + time.” + </p> + <p> + The judge laughed impatiently. “It strikes me that this young Mr. Breckon + hasn’t much advantage of Ellen in what Lottie calls closeness!” + </p> + <p> + “Ellen has always been very reserved. It would have been better for her if + she hadn’t. Oh, I scarcely dare to hope anything! Rufus, I feel that in + everything of this kind we are very ignorant and inexperienced.” + </p> + <p> + “Inexperienced!” Renton retorted. “I don’t want any more experience of the + kind Ellen has given us.” + </p> + <p> + “I don’t mean that. I mean—this Mr. Breckon. I can’t tell what + attracts him in the child. She must appear very crude and uncultivated to + him. You needn’t resent it so! I know she’s read a great deal, and you’ve + made her think herself intellectual—but the very simple-heartedness + of the way she would show out her reading would make such a young man see + that she wasn’t like the girls he was used to. They would hide their + intellectuality, if they had any. It’s no use your trying to fight it Mr. + Kenton. We are country people, and he knows it.” + </p> + <p> + “Tuskingum isn’t country!” the judge declared. + </p> + <p> + “It isn’t city. And we don’t know anything about the world, any of us. Oh, + I suppose we can read and write! But we don’t know the a, b, c of the + things he, knows. He, belongs to a kind of society—of people—in + New York that I had glimpses of in the winter, but that I never imagined + before. They made me feel very belated and benighted—as if I hadn’t, + read or thought anything. They didn’t mean to; but I couldn’t help it, and + they couldn’t.” + </p> + <p> + “You—you’ve been frightened out of your propriety by what you’ve + seen in New York,” said her husband. + </p> + <p> + “I’ve been frightened, certainly. And I wish you had been, too. I wish you + wouldn’t be so conceited about Ellen. It scares me to see you so. Poor, + sick thing, her looks are all gone! You must see that. And she doesn’t + dress like the girls he’s used to. I know we’ve got her things in New + York; but she doesn’t wear them like a New-Yorker. I hope she isn’t going + in for MORE unhappiness!” + </p> + <p> + At the thought of this the judge’s crest fell. “Do you believe she’s + getting interested in him?” he asked, humbly. + </p> + <p> + “No, no; I don’t say that. But promise me you won’t encourage her in it. + And don’t, for pity’s sake, brag about her to him.” + </p> + <p> + “No, I won’t,” said the judge, and he tacitly repented having done so. + </p> + <p> + The weather had changed, and when he went up from this interview with his + wife in their stateroom he found a good many people strung convalescently + along the promenade on their steamer-chairs. These, so far as they were + women, were of such sick plainness that when he came to Ellen his heart + throbbed with a glad resentment of her mother’s aspersion of her health + and beauty. She looked not only very well, and very pretty, but in a gay + red cap and a trig jacket she looked, to her father’s uncritical eyes, + very stylish. The glow left his heart at eight of the empty seat beside + her. + </p> + <p> + “Where is Lottie?” he asked, though it was not Lottie’s whereabouts that + interested him. + </p> + <p> + “Oh, she’s walking with Mr. Breckon somewhere,” said Ellen. + </p> + <p> + “Then she’s made up her mind to tolerate him, has she?” the father asked, + more lightly than he felt. + </p> + <p> + Ellen smiled. “That wasn’t anything very serious, I guess. At any rate, + she’s walking with him.” + </p> + <p> + “What book is that?” he asked, of the volume she was tilting back and + forth under her hand. + </p> + <p> + She showed it. “One of his. He brought it up to amuse me, he said.” + </p> + <p> + “While he was amusing himself with Lottie,” thought the judge, in his + jealousy for her. “It is going the same old way. Well!” What he said aloud + was, “And is it amusing you?” + </p> + <p> + “I haven’t looked at it yet,” said the girl. “It’s amusing enough to watch + the sea. Oh, poppa! I never thought I should care so much for it.” + </p> + <p> + “And you’re glad we came?” + </p> + <p> + “I don’t want to think about that. I just want to know that I’m here.” She + pressed his arm gently, significantly, where he sat provisionally in the + chair beside her, and he was afraid to speak lest he should scare away the + hope her words gave him. + </p> + <p> + He merely said, “Well, well!” and waited for her to speak further. But her + impulse had exhausted itself, as if her spirit were like one of those weak + forms of life which spend their strength in a quick run or flight, and + then rest to gather force for another. “Where’s Boyne?” he asked, after + waiting for her to speak. + </p> + <p> + “He was here a minute ago. He’s been talking with some of the deck + passengers that are going home because they couldn’t get on in America. + Doesn’t that seem pitiful, poppa? I always thought we had work enough for + the whole world.” + </p> + <p> + “Perhaps these fellows didn’t try very hard to find it,” said the judge. + </p> + <p> + “Perhaps,” she assented. + </p> + <p> + “I shouldn’t want you to get to thinking that it’s all like New York. + Remember how comfortable everybody is in Tuskingum.” + </p> + <p> + “Yes,” she said, sadly. “How far off Tuskingum seems!” + </p> + <p> + “Well, don’t forget about it; and remember that wherever life is simplest + and purest and kindest, that is the highest civilization.” + </p> + <p> + “How much like old times it seems to hear you talk that way, poppa! I + should think I was in the library at home. And I made you leave it!” she + sighed. + </p> + <p> + “Your mother was glad of any excuse. And it will do us all good, if we + take it in the right way,” said the judge, with a didactic severity that + did not hide his pang from her. + </p> + <p> + “Poor poppa!” she said. + </p> + <p> + He went away, saying that he was going to look Lottie up. His simple + design was to send Lottie to her mother, so that Breckon might come back + to Ellen; but he did not own this to himself. + </p> + <p> + Lottie returned from another direction with Boyne, and Ellen said, + “Poppa’s gone to look for you.” + </p> + <p> + “Has he?” asked Lottie, dropping decisively into her chair. “Well, there’s + one thing; I won’t call him poppa any more.” + </p> + <p> + “What will you call him?” Boyne demanded, demurely. + </p> + <p> + “I’ll call him father, it you want to know; and I’m going to call momma, + mother. I’m not going to have those English laughing at us, and I won’t + say papa and mamma. Everybody that knows anything says father and mother + now.” + </p> + <p> + Boyne kept looking from one sister to another during Lottie’s declaration, + and, with his eyes on Ellen, he said, “It’s true, Ellen. All the Plumptons + did.” He was very serious. + </p> + <p> + Ellen smiled. “I’m too old to change. I’d rather seem queer in Europe than + when I get back to Tuskingum.” + </p> + <p> + “You wouldn’t be queer there a great while,” said Lottie. “They’ll all be + doing it in a week after I get home.” + </p> + <p> + Upon the encouragement given him by Ellen, Boyne seized the chance of + being of the opposition. “Yes,” he taunted Lottie, “and you think they’ll + say woman and man, for lady and gentleman, I suppose.” + </p> + <p> + “They will as soon as they know it’s the thing.” + </p> + <p> + “Well, I know I won’t,” said Boyne. “I won’t call momma a woman.” + </p> + <p> + “It doesn’t matter what you do, Boyne dear,” his sister serenely assured + him. + </p> + <p> + While he stood searching his mind for a suitable retort, a young man, not + apparently many years his senior, came round the corner of the music-room, + and put himself conspicuously in view at a distance from the Kentons. + </p> + <p> + “There he is, now,” said Boyne. “He wants to be introduced to Lottie.” He + referred the question to Ellen, but Lottie answered for her. + </p> + <p> + “Then why don’t you introduce him?” + </p> + <p> + “Well, I would if he was an American. But you can’t tell about these + English.” He resumed the dignity he had lost in making the explanation to + Lottie, and ignored her in turning again to Ellen. “What do you think, + Ellen?” + </p> + <p> + “Oh, don’t know about such things, Boyne,” she said, shrinking from the + responsibility. + </p> + <p> + “Well; upon my word!” cried Lottie. “If Ellen can talk by the hour with + that precious Mr. Breckon, and stay up here along with him, when everybody + else is down below sick, I don’t think she can have a great deal to say + about a half-grown boy like that being introduced to me.” + </p> + <p> + “He’s as old as you are,” said Boyne, hotly. + </p> + <p> + “Oh! I saw him associating with you, and I thought he was a boy, too. + Pardon me!” Lottie turned from giving Boyne his coup-de-grace, to plant a + little stab in Ellen’s breast. “To be sure, now Mr. Breckon has found + those friends of his, I suppose he won’t want to flirt with Ellen any + more.” + </p> + <p> + “Ah, ha, ha!” Boyne broke in. “Lottie is mad because he stopped to speak + to some ladies he knew. Women, I suppose she’d call them.” + </p> + <p> + “Well, I shouldn’t call him a gentleman, anyway,” said Lottie. + </p> + <p> + The pretty, smooth-faced, fresh-faced young fellow whom their varying + debate had kept in abeyance, looked round at them over his shoulder as he + leaned on the rail, and seemed to discover Boyne for the first time. He + came promptly towards the Kentons. + </p> + <p> + “Now,” said Lottie, rapidly, “you’ll just HAVE to.” + </p> + <p> + The young fellow touched his cap to the whole group, but he ventured to + address only Boyne. + </p> + <p> + “Every one seems to be about this morning,” he said, with the cheery + English-rising infection. + </p> + <p> + “Yes,” answered Boyne, with such snubbing coldness that Ellen’s heart was + touched. + </p> + <p> + “It’s so pleasant,” she said, “after that dark weather.” + </p> + <p> + “Isn’t it?” cried the young fellow, gratefully. “One doesn’t often get + such sunshine as this at sea, you know.” + </p> + <p> + “My sister, Miss Kenton, Mr. Pogis,” Boyne solemnly intervened. “And Miss + Lottie Kenton.” + </p> + <p> + The pretty boy bowed to each in turn, but he made no pretence of being + there to talk with Ellen. “Have you been ill, too?” he actively addressed + himself to Lottie. + </p> + <p> + “No, just mad,” she said. “I wasn’t very sick, and that made it all the + worse being down in a poky state-room when I wanted to walk.” + </p> + <p> + “And I suppose you’ve been making up for lost time this morning?” + </p> + <p> + “Not half,” said Lottie. + </p> + <p> + “Oh, do finish the half with me!” + </p> + <p> + Lottie instantly rose, and flung her sister the wrap she had been holding + ready to shed from the moment the young man had come up. “Keep that for + me, Nell. Are you good at catching?” she asked him. + </p> + <p> + “Catching?” + </p> + <p> + “Yes! People,” she explained, and at a sudden twist of the ship she made a + clutch at his shoulder. + </p> + <p> + “Oh! I think I can catch you.” + </p> + <p> + As they moved off together, Boyne said, “Well, upon my word!” but Ellen + did not say anything in comment on Lottie. After a while she asked, “Who + were the ladies that Mr. Breckon met?” + </p> + <p> + “I didn’t hear their names. They were somebody he hadn’t seen before since + the ship started. They looked like a young lady and her mother. It made + Lottie mad when he stopped to speak with them, and she wouldn’t wait till + he could get through. Ran right away, and made me come, too.” + </p> + <p> + <a name="link2H_4_0013" id="link2H_4_0013"> + <!-- H2 anchor --> </a> + </p> + <div style="height: 4em;"> + <br /><br /><br /><br /> + </div> + <h2> + XIII. + </h2> + <p> + Breckon had not seen the former interest between himself and Ellen lapse + to commonplace acquaintance without due sense of loss. He suffered justly, + but he did not suffer passively, or without several attempts to regain the + higher ground. In spite of these he was aware of being distinctly kept to + the level which he accused himself of having chosen, by a gentle + acquiescence in his choice more fatal than snubbing. The advances that he + made across the table, while he still met Miss Kenton alone there, did not + carry beyond the rack supporting her plate. She talked on whatever subject + he started with that angelic sincerity which now seemed so far from him, + but she started none herself; she did not appeal to him for his opinion + upon any question more psychological than the barometer; and, + </p> +<pre xml:space="preserve"> + “In a tumultuous privacy of storm,” + </pre> + <p> + he found himself as much estranged from her as if a fair-weather crowd had + surrounded them. He did not believe that she resented the levity he had + shown; but he had reason to fear that she had finally accepted it as his + normal mood, and in her efforts to meet him in it, as if he had no other, + he read a tolerance that was worse than contempt. When he tried to make + her think differently, if that was what she thought of him, he fancied her + rising to the notion he wished to give her, and then shrinking from it, as + if it must bring her the disappointment of some trivial joke. + </p> + <p> + It was what he had taught her to expect of him, and he had himself to + blame. Now that he had thrown that precious chance away, he might well + have overvalued it. She had certain provincialisms which he could not + ignore. She did not know the right use of will and shall, and would and + should, and she pronounced the letter ‘r’ with a hard mid-Western twist. + Her voice was weak and thin, and she could not govern it from being at + times a gasp and at times a drawl. She did not dress with the authority of + women who know more of their clothes than the people they buy them of; she + did not carry herself like a pretty girl; she had not the definite stamp + of young-ladyism. Yet she was undoubtedly a lady in every instinct; she + wore with pensive grace the clothes which she had not subjected to her + personal taste; and if she did not carry herself like a pretty girl, she + had a beauty which touched and entreated. + </p> + <p> + More and more Breckon found himself studying her beauty—her soft, + brown brows, her gentle, dark eyes, a little sunken, and with the lids + pinched by suffering; the cheeks somewhat thin, but not colorless; the + long chin, the clear forehead, and the massed brown hair, that seemed too + heavy for the drooping neck. It was not the modern athletic type; it was + rather of the earlier period, when beauty was associated with the + fragility despised by a tanned and golfing generation. Ellen Kenton’s + wrists were thin, and her hands long and narrow. As he looked at her + across the racks during those two days of storm, he had sometimes the wish + to take her long, narrow hands in his, and beg her to believe that he was + worthier her serious friendship than he had shown himself. What he was + sure of at all times now was that he wished to know the secret of that + patient pathos of hers. She was not merely, or primarily, an invalid. Her + family had treated her as an invalid, but, except Lottie, whose rigor + might have been meant sanatively, they treated her more with the + tenderness people use with a wounded spirit; and Breckon fancied moments + of something like humility in her, when she seemed to cower from his + notice. These were not so imaginable after her family took to their berths + and left her alone with him, but the touching mystery remained, a sort of + bewilderment, as he guessed it, a surprise such as a child might show at + some incomprehensible harm. It was this grief which he had refused not + merely to know—he still doubted his right to know it—but to + share; he had denied not only his curiosity but his sympathy, and had + exiled himself to a region where, when her family came back with the fair + weather, he felt himself farther from her than before their acquaintance + began. + </p> + <p> + He had made an overture to its renewal in the book he lent her, and then + Mrs. Rasmith and her daughter had appeared on deck, and borne down upon + him when he was walking with Lottie Kenton and trying to begin his + self-retrieval through her. She had left him; but they had not, and in the + bonds of a prophet and his followers he found himself bound with them for + much more conversation than he had often held with them ashore. The + parochial duties of an ethical teacher were not strenuous, and Breckon had + not been made to feel them so definitely before. Mrs. Rasmith held that + they now included promising to sit at her table for the rest of the + voyage; but her daughter succeeded in releasing him from the obligation; + and it was she who smilingly detached the clinging hold of the elder lady. + “We mustn’t keep Mr. Breckon from his friends, mother,” she said, + brightly, and then he said he should like the pleasure of introducing + them, and both of the ladies declared that they would be delighted. + </p> + <p> + He bowed himself off, and half the ship’s-length away he was aware, from + meeting Lottie with her little Englishman, that it was she and not Ellen + whom he was seeking. As the couple paused in whirring past Breckon long + enough to let Lottie make her hat fast against the wind, he heard the + Englishman shout: + </p> + <p> + “I say, that sister of yours is a fine girl, isn’t she?” + </p> + <p> + “She’s a pretty good—looker,” Lottie answered back. “What’s the + matter with HER sister?” + </p> + <p> + “Oh, I say!” her companion returned, in a transport with her slangy + pertness, which Breckon could not altogether refuse to share. + </p> + <p> + He thought that he ought to condemn it, and he did condemn Mrs. Kenton for + allowing it in one of her daughters, when he came up to her sitting beside + another whom he felt inexpressibly incapable of it. Mrs. Kenton could have + answered his censure, if she had known it, that daughters, like sons, were + not what their mothers but what their environments made them, and that the + same environment sometimes made them different, as he saw. She could have + told him that Lottie, with her slangy pertness, had the truest and best of + the men she knew at her feet, and that Ellen, with her meekness, had been + the prey of the commonest and cheapest spirit in her world, and so left + him to make an inference as creditable to his sex as he could. But this + bold defence was as far from the poor lady as any spoken reproach was from + him. Her daughter had to check in her a mechanical offer to rise, as if to + give Breckon her place, the theory and practice of Tuskingum being that + their elders ought to leave young people alone together. + </p> + <p> + “Don’t go, momma,” Ellen whispered. “I don’t want you to go.” + </p> + <p> + Breckon, when he arrived before them, remained talking on foot, and, + unlike Lottie’s company, he talked to the mother. This had happened before + from him, but she had not got used to it, and now she deprecated in + everything but words his polite questions about her sufferings from the + rough weather, and his rejoicing that the worst was probably over. She + ventured the hope that it was so, for she said that Mr. Kenton had about + decided to keep on to Holland, and it seemed to her that they had had + enough of storms. He said he was glad that they were going right on; and + then she modestly recurred to the earlier opinion he had given her husband + that it would be better to spend the rest of the summer in Holland than to + go to Italy, as if she wished to conform herself in the wisdom of Mr. + Kenton’s decision. He repeated his conviction, and he said that if he were + in their place he should go to The Hague as soon as they had seen + Rotterdam, and make it their headquarters for the exploration of the whole + country. + </p> + <p> + “You can’t realize how little it is; you can get anywhere in an hour; the + difficulty is to keep inside of Holland when you leave any given point. I + envy you going there.” + </p> + <p> + Mrs. Kenton inferred that he was going to stop in France, but if it were + part of his closeness not to tell, it was part of her pride not to ask. + She relented when he asked if he might get a map of his and prove the + littleness of Holland from it, and in his absence she could not well avoid + saying to Ellen, “He seems very pleasant.” + </p> + <p> + “Yes; why not?” the girl asked. + </p> + <p> + “I don’t know. Lottie is so against him.” + </p> + <p> + “He was very kind when you were all sick.” + </p> + <p> + “Well, you ought to know better than Lottie; you’ve seen him so much + more.” Ellen was silent, and her mother advanced cautiously, “I suppose he + is very cultivated.” + </p> + <p> + “How can I tell? I’m not.” + </p> + <p> + “Why, Ellen, I think you are. Very few girls have read so much.” + </p> + <p> + “Yes, but he wouldn’t care if I were cultivated, Ha is like all the rest. + He would like to joke and laugh. Well, I think that is nice, too, and I + wish I could do it. But I never could, and now I can’t try. I suppose he + wonders what makes me such a dead weight on you all.” + </p> + <p> + “You know you’re not that, Ellen! You musn’t let yourself be morbid. It + hurts me to have you say such things.” + </p> + <p> + “Well, I should like to tell him why, and see what he would say.” + </p> + <p> + “Ellen!” + </p> + <p> + “Why not? If he is a minister he must have thought about all kinds of + things. Do you suppose he ever knew of a girl before who had been through + what I have? Yes, I would like to know what he would really say.” + </p> + <p> + “I know what he ought to say! If he knew, he would say that no girl had + ever behaved more angelically.” + </p> + <p> + “Do you think he would? Perhaps he would say that if I hadn’t been so + proud and silly—Here he comes! Shall we ask him?” + </p> + <p> + Breckon approached with his map, and her mother gasped, thinking how + terrible such a thing would be if it could be; Ellen smiled brightly up at + him. “Will you take my chair? And then you can show momma your map. I am + going down,” and while he was still protesting she was gone. + </p> + <p> + “Miss Kenton seems so much better than she did the first day,” he said, as + he spread the map out on his knees, and gave Mrs. Kenton one end to hold. + </p> + <p> + “Yes,” the mother assented, as she bent over to look at it. + </p> + <p> + She followed his explanation with a surface sense, while her nether mind + was full of the worry of the question which Ellen had planted in it. What + would such a man think of what she had been through? Or, rather, how would + he say to her the only things that in Mrs. Kenton’s belief he could say? + How could the poor child ever be made to see it in the light of some mind + not colored with her family’s affection for her? An immense, an impossible + longing possessed itself of the mother’s heart, which became the more + insistent the more frantic it appeared. She uttered “Yes” and “No” and + “Indeed” to what he was saying, but all the time she was rehearsing + Ellen’s story in her inner sense. In the end she remembered so little what + had actually passed that her dramatic reverie seemed the reality, and when + she left him she got herself down to her state-room, giddy with the shame + and fear of her imaginary self-betrayal. She wished to test the enormity, + and yet not find it so monstrous, by submitting the case to her husband, + and she could scarcely keep back her impatience at seeing Ellen instead of + her father. + </p> + <p> + “Momma, what have you been saying to Mr. Breckon about me?” + </p> + <p> + “Nothing,” said Mrs. Kenton, aghast at first, and then astonished to + realize that she was speaking the simple truth. “He said how much better + you were looking; but I don’t believe I spoke a single word. We were + looking at the map.” + </p> + <p> + “Very well,” Ellen resumed. “I have been thinking it all over, and now I + have made up my mind.” + </p> + <p> + She paused, and her mother asked, tremulously, “About what, Ellen?” + </p> + <p> + “You know, momma. I see all now. You needn’t be afraid that I care + anything about him now,” and her mother knew that she meant Bittridge, “or + that I ever shall. That’s gone forever. But it’s gone,” she added, and her + mother quaked inwardly to hear her reason, “because the wrong and the + shame was all for me—for us. That’s why I can forgive it, and + forget. If we had done anything, the least thing in the world, to revenge + ourselves, or to hurt him, then—Don’t you see, momma?” + </p> + <p> + “I think I see, Ellen.” + </p> + <p> + “Then I should have to keep thinking about it, and what we had made him + suffer, and whether we hadn’t given him some claim. I don’t wish ever to + think of him again. You and poppa were so patient and forbearing, all + through; and I thank goodness now for everything you put up with; only I + wish I could have borne everything myself.” + </p> + <p> + “You had enough to bear,” Mrs. Kenton said, in tender evasion. + </p> + <p> + “I’m glad that I had to bear so much, for bearing it is what makes me free + now.” She went up to her mother and kissed her, and gazed into her face + with joyful, tearful looks that made her heart sink. + </p> + <p> + <a name="link2H_4_0014" id="link2H_4_0014"> + <!-- H2 anchor --> </a> + </p> + <div style="height: 4em;"> + <br /><br /><br /><br /> + </div> + <h2> + XIV. + </h2> + <p> + Mrs. Kenton did not rest till she had made sure from Lottie and Boyne that + neither of them had dropped any hint to Ellen of what happened to + Bittridge after his return to Tuskingum. She did not explain to them why + she was so very anxious to know, but only charged them the more solemnly + not to let the secret, which they had all been keeping from Ellen, escape + them. + </p> + <p> + They promised, but Lottie said, “She’s got to know it some time, and I + should think the sooner the better.” + </p> + <p> + “I will be judge of that, Lottie,” said her mother, and Boyne seized his + chance of inculpating her with his friend, Mr. Pogis. He said she was + carrying on awfully with him already; and an Englishman could not + understand, and Boyne hinted that he would presume upon her American + freedom. + </p> + <p> + “Well, if he does, I’ll get you to cowhide him, Boyne,” she retorted, and + left him fuming helplessly, while she went to give the young Englishman an + opportunity of resuming the flirtation which her mother had interrupted. + </p> + <p> + With her husband Mrs. Kenton found it practicable to be more explicit. “I + haven’t had such a load lifted off my heart since I don’t know when. It + shows me what I’ve thought all along: that Ellen hasn’t really cared + anything for that miserable thing since he first began going with Mrs. + Uphill a year ago. When he wrote that letter to her in New York she wanted + to be sure she didn’t, and when he offered himself and misbehaved so to + both of you, she was afraid that she and you were somehow to blame. Now + she’s worked it out that no one else was wronged, and she is satisfied. + It’s made her feel free, as she says. But, oh, dear me!” Mrs. Kenton broke + off, “I talk as if there was nothing to bind her; and yet there is what + poor Richard did! What would she say if she knew that? I have been + cautioning Lottie and Boyne, but I know it will come out somehow. Do you + think it’s wise to keep it from her? Hadn’t we better tell her? Or shall + we wait and see—” + </p> + <p> + Kenton would not allow to her or to himself that his hopes ran with hers; + love is not business with a man as it is with a woman; he feels it + indecorous and indelicate to count upon it openly, where she thinks it + simply a chance of life, to be considered like another. All that Kenton + would say was, “I see no reason for telling her just yet. She will have to + know in due time. But let her enjoy her freedom now.” + </p> + <p> + “Yes,” Mrs. Kenton doubtfully assented. + </p> + <p> + The judge was thoughtfully silent. Then he said: “Few girls could have + worked out her problem as Ellen has. Think how differently Lottie would + have done it!” + </p> + <p> + “Lottie has her good points, too,” said Mrs. Kenton. “And, of course, I + don’t blame Richard. There are all kinds of girls, and Lottie means no + more harm than Ellen does. She’s the kind that can’t help attracting; but + I always knew that Ellen was attractive, too, if she would only find it + out. And I knew that as soon as anything worth while took up her mind she + would never give that wretch another thought.” + </p> + <p> + Kenton followed her devious ratiocinations to a conclusion which he could + not grasp. “What do you mean, Sarah?” + </p> + <p> + “If I only,” she explained, in terms that did not explain, “felt as sure + of him as I do about him!” + </p> + <p> + Her husband looked densely at her. “Bittridge?” + </p> + <p> + “No. Mr. Breckon. He is very nice, Rufus. Yes, he is! He’s been showing me + the map of Holland, and we’ve had a long talk. He isn’t the way we thought—or + I did. He is not at all clerical, or worldly. And he appreciates Ellen. I + don’t suppose he cares so much for her being cultivated; I suppose she + doesn’t seem so to him. But he sees how wise she is—how good. And he + couldn’t do that without being good himself! Rufus! If we could only hope + such a thing. But, of course, there are thousands after him!” + </p> + <p> + “There are not thousands of Ellens after him,” said the judge, before he + could take time to protest. “And I don’t want him to suppose that she is + after him at all. If he will only interest her and help her to keep her + mind off herself, it’s all I will ask of him. I am not anxious to part + with her, now that she’s all ours again.” + </p> + <p> + “Of course,” Mrs. Kenton soothingly assented. “And I don’t say that she + dreams of him in any such way. She can’t help admiring his mind. But what + I mean is that when you see how he appreciates her, you can’t help wishing + he could know just how wise, and just how good she is. It did seem to me + as if I would give almost anything to have him know what she had been + through with that—rapscallion!” + </p> + <p> + “Sarah!” + </p> + <p> + “Oh, you may Sarah me! But I can tell you what, Mr. Kenton: I believe that + you could tell him every word of it, and only make him appreciate her the + more. Till you know that about Ellen, you don’t know what a character she + is. I just ached to tell him!” + </p> + <p> + “I don’t understand you, my dear,” said Kenton. “But if you mean to tell + him—” + </p> + <p> + “Why, who could imagine doing such a thing? Don’t you see that it is + impossible? Such a thing would never have come into my head if it hadn’t + been for some morbid talk of Ellen’s.” + </p> + <p> + “Of Ellen’s?” + </p> + <p> + “Oh, about wanting to disgust him by telling him why she was such a burden + to us.” + </p> + <p> + “She isn’t a burden!” + </p> + <p> + “I am saying what she said. And it made me think that if such a person + could only know the high-minded way she had found to get out of her + trouble! I would like somebody who is capable of valuing her to value her + in all her preciousness. Wouldn’t you be glad if such a man as he is could + know how and why she feels free at last?” + </p> + <p> + “I don’t think it’s necessary,” said Kenton, haughtily, “There’s only one + thing that could give him the right to know it, and we’ll wait for that + first. I thought you said that he was frivolous.” + </p> + <p> + “Boyne said that, and Lottie. I took it for granted, till I talked with + him to-day. He is light-hearted and gay; he likes to laugh and joke; but + he can be very serious when he wants to.” + </p> + <p> + “According to all precedent,” said the judge, glumly, “such a man ought to + be hanging round Lottie. Everybody was that amounted to anything in + Tuskingum.” + </p> + <p> + “Oh, in Tuskingum! And who were the men there that amounted to anything? A + lot of young lawyers, and two students of medicine, and some railroad + clerks. There wasn’t one that would compare with Mr. Breckon for a + moment.” + </p> + <p> + “All the more reason why he can’t really care for Ellen. Now see here, + Sarah! You know I don’t interfere with you and the children, but I’m + afraid you’re in a craze about this young fellow. He’s got these friends + of his who have just turned up, and we’ll wait and see what he does with + them. I guess he appreciates the young lady as much as he does Ellen.” + </p> + <p> + Mrs. Kenton’s heart went down. “She doesn’t compare with Ellen!” she + piteously declared. + </p> + <p> + “That’s what we think. He may think differently.” + </p> + <p> + Mrs. Kenton was silenced, but all the more she was determined to make sure + that Mr. Breckon was not interested in Miss Rasmith in any measure or + manner detrimental to Ellen. As for Miss Rasmith herself, Mrs. Kenton + would have had greater reason to be anxious about her behavior with Boyne + than Mr. Breckon. From the moment that the minister had made his two + groups of friends acquainted, the young lady had fixed upon Boyne as that + member of the Kenton group who could best repay a more intimate + friendship. She was polite to them all, but to Boyne she was flattering, + and he was too little used to deference from ladies ten years his senior + not to be very sensible of her worth in offering it. To be unremittingly + treated as a grown-up person was an experience so dazzling that his vision + was blinded to any possibilities in the behavior that formed it; and + before the day ended Boyne had possessed Miss Rasmith of all that it was + important for any fellow-being to know of his character and history. He + opened his heart to eyes that had looked into others before his, less for + the sake of exploiting than of informing himself. In the rare intelligence + of Miss Rasmith he had found that serious patience with his problems which + no one else, not Ellen herself, had shown, and after trying her sincerity + the greater part of the day he put it to the supreme test, one evening, + with a book which he had been reading. Boyne’s literature was largely + entomological and zoological, but this was a work of fiction treating of + the fortunes of a young American adventurer, who had turned his military + education to account in the service of a German princess. Her Highness’s + dominions were not in any map of Europe, and perhaps it was her condition + of political incognito that rendered her the more fittingly the prey of a + passion for the American head of her armies. Boyne’s belief was that this + character veiled a real identity, and he wished to submit to Miss Rasmith + the question whether in the exclusive circles of New York society any + young millionaire was known to have taken service abroad after leaving + west Point. He put it in the form of a scoffing incredulity which it was a + comfort to have her take as if almost hurt by his doubt. She said that + such a thing might very well be, and with rich American girls marrying all + sorts of titles abroad, it was not impossible for some brilliant young + fellow to make his way to the steps of a throne. Boyne declared that she + was laughing at him, and she protested that it was the last thing she + should think of doing; she was too much afraid of him. Then he began to + argue against the case supposed in the romance; he proved from the book + itself that the thing could not happen; such a princess would not be + allowed to marry the American, no matter how rich he was. She owned that + she had not heard of just such an instance, and he might think her very + romantic; and perhaps she was; but if the princess was an absolute + princess, such as she was shown in that story, she held that no power on + earth could keep her from marrying the young American. For herself she did + not see, though, how the princess could be in love with that type of + American. If she had been in the princess’s place she should have fancied + something quite different. She made Boyne agree with her that Eastern + Americans were all, more or less, Europeanized, and it stood to reason, + she held, that a European princess would want something as un-European as + possible if she was falling in love to please herself. They had some + contention upon the point that the princess would want a Western American; + and then Miss Rasmith, with a delicate audacity, painted an heroic + portrait of Boyne himself which he could not recognize openly enough to + disown; but he perceived resemblances in it which went to his head when + she demurely rose, with a soft “Good-night, Mr. Kenton. I suppose I + mustn’t call you Boyne?” + </p> + <p> + “Oh yes, do!” he entreated. “I’m-I’m not grown up yet, you know.” + </p> + <p> + “Then it will be safe,” she sighed. “But I should never have thought of + that. I had got so absorbed in our argument. You are so logical, Mr. + Kenton—Boyne, I mean—thank you. You must get it from your + father. How lovely your sister is!” + </p> + <p> + “Ellen?” + </p> + <p> + “Well, no. I meant the other one. But Miss Kenton is beautiful, too. You + must be so happy together, all of you.” She added, with a rueful smile, + “There’s only one of me! Good-night.” + </p> + <p> + Boyne did not know whether he ought not in humanity, if not gallantry, to + say he would be a brother to her, but while he stood considering, she put + out a hand to him so covered with rings that he was afraid she had hurt + herself in pressing his so hard, and had left him before he could decide. + </p> + <p> + Lottie, walking the deck, had not thought of bidding Mr. Pogis good-night. + She had asked him half a dozen times how late it was, and when he + answered, had said as often that she knew better, and she was going below + in another minute. But she stayed, and the flow of her conversation + supplied him with occasion for the remarks of which he seldom varied the + formula. When she said something too audacious for silent emotion, he + called out, “Oh, I say!” If she advanced an opinion too obviously + acceptable, or asked a question upon some point where it seemed to him + there could not be two minds, he was ready with the ironical note, “Well, + rather!” At times she pressed her studies of his character and her + observations on his manner and appearance so far that he was forced to + protest, “You are so personal!” But these moments were rare; for the most + part, “Oh I say!” and “Well, rather!” perfectly covered the ground. He did + not generally mind her parody of his poverty of phrase, but once, after + she had repeated “Well rather!” and “Oh, I say!” steadily at everything he + said for the whole round of the promenade they were making, he intimated + that there were occasions when, in his belief, a woman’s abuse of the + freedom generously allowed her sex passed the point of words. + </p> + <p> + “And when it passes the point of words” she taunted him, “what do you do?” + </p> + <p> + “You will see,” he said, “if it ever does,” and Lottie felt justified by + her inference that he was threatening to kiss her, in answering: + </p> + <p> + “And if I ever SEE, I will box your ears.” + </p> + <p> + “Oh, I say!” he retorted. “I should like to have you try.” + </p> + <p> + He had ideas of the rightful mastery of a man in all things, which she + promptly pronounced brutal, and when he declared that his father’s conduct + towards his wife and children was based upon these ideas, she affirmed the + superiority of her own father’s principles and behavior. Mr. Pogis was too + declared an admirer of Judge Kenton to question his motives or method in + anything, and he could only generalize, “The Americans spoil their women.” + </p> + <p> + “Well, their women are worth it,” said Lottie, and after allowing the + paradox time to penetrate his intelligence, he cried out, in a glad + transport: + </p> + <p> + “Oh, I SAY!” + </p> + <p> + At the moment Boyne’s intellectual seance with Miss Rasmith was coming to + an end. Lottie had tacitly invited Mr. Pogis to prolong the comparison of + English and American family life by stopping in front of a couple of + steamer-chairs, and confessing that she was tired to death. They sat down, + and he told her about his mother, whom, although his father’s subordinate, + he seemed to be rather fonder of. He had some elder brothers, most of them + in the colonies, and he had himself been out to America looking at + something his father had found for him in Buffalo. + </p> + <p> + “You ought to come to Tuskingum,” said Lottie. + </p> + <p> + “Is that a large place?” Mr. Pogis asked. “As large as Buffalo?” + </p> + <p> + “Well, no,” Lottie admitted. “But it’s a growing place. And we have the + best kind of times.” + </p> + <p> + “What kind?” The young man easily consented to turn the commercial into a + social inquiry. + </p> + <p> + “Oh, picnics, and river parties, and buggy-rides, and dances.” + </p> + <p> + “I’m keen on dancing,” said Mr. Pogis. “I hope they’ll give us a dance on + board. Will you put me down for the first dance?” + </p> + <p> + “I don’t care. Will you send me some flowers? The steward must have some + left in the refrigerator.” + </p> + <p> + “Well, rather! I’ll send you a spray, if he’s got enough.” + </p> + <p> + “A spray? What’s a spray?” + </p> + <p> + “Oh, I say! My sister always wears one. It’s a long chain of flowers + reachin’ from your shoulder diagonally down to your waist.” + </p> + <p> + “Does your sister always have her sprays sent to her?” + </p> + <p> + “Well, rather! Don’t they send flowers to girls for dances in the States?” + </p> + <p> + “Well, rather! Didn’t I just ask you?” + </p> + <p> + This was very true, and after a moment of baffle Mr. Pogis said, in + generalization, “If you go with a young lady in a party to the theatre you + send her a box of chocolates.” + </p> + <p> + “Only when you go to theatre! I couldn’t get enough, then, unless you + asked me every night,” said Lottie, and while Mr. Pogis was trying to + choose between “Oh, I say!” and something specific, like, “I should like + to ask you every night,” she added, “And what would happen if you sent a + girl a spray for the theatre and chocolates for a dance? Wouldn’t it jar + her?” + </p> + <p> + Now, indeed, there was nothing for him but to answer, “Oh, I say!” + </p> + <p> + “Well, say, then! Here comes Boyne, and I must go. Well, Boyne,” she + called, from the dark nook where she sat, to her brother as he stumbled + near, with his eyes to the stars, “has the old lady retired?” + </p> + <p> + He gave himself away finely. “What old lady!” + </p> + <p> + “Well, maybe at your age you don’t consider her very old. But I don’t + think a boy ought to sit up mooning at his grandmother all night. I know + Miss Rasmith’s no relation, if that’s what you’re going to say!” + </p> + <p> + “Oh, I say!” Mr. Pogis chuckled. “You are so personal.” + </p> + <p> + “Well, rather!” said Lottie, punishing his presumption. “But I don’t think + it’s nice for a kid, even if she isn’t.” + </p> + <p> + “Kid!” Boyne ground, through his clenched teeth. + </p> + <p> + By this time Lottie was up out of her chair and beyond repartee in her + flight down the gangway stairs. She left the two youngsters confronted. + </p> + <p> + “What do you say to a lemon-squash?” asked Mr. Pogis, respecting his + friend’s wounded dignity, and ignoring Lottie and her offence. + </p> + <p> + “I don’t care if I do,” said Boyne in gloomy acquiescence. + </p> + <p> + <a name="link2H_4_0015" id="link2H_4_0015"> + <!-- H2 anchor --> </a> + </p> + <div style="height: 4em;"> + <br /><br /><br /><br /> + </div> + <h2> + XV. + </h2> + <p> + Few witnesses of the fact that Julia Rasmith and her mother had found + themselves on the same steamer with the Rev. Hugh Breckon would have been + of such a simple mind as to think they were there by accident, if they had + also been witnesses of their earlier history. The ladies could have urged + that in returning from California only a few days before the Amstel + sailed, and getting a state-room which had been unexpectedly given up, + they had some claim to a charitable interpretation of their behavior, but + this plea could not have availed them with any connoisseur of women. + Besides, it had been a matter of notoriety among such of Mr. Breckon’s + variegated congregation as knew one another that Mrs. Rasmith had set her + heart on him, it Julia had not set her cap for him. In that pied flock, + where every shade and dapple of doubt, from heterodox Jew to agnostic + Christian, foregathered, as it has been said, in the misgiving of a + blessed immortality, the devotion of Mrs. Rasmith to the minister had been + almost a scandal. Nothing had saved the appearance from this character but + Mr. Breckon’s open acceptance of her flatteries and hospitalities; this + was so frank, and the behavior of Julia herself so judicious under the + circumstances, that envy and virtue were, if not equally silenced, equally + baffled. So far from pretending not to see her mother’s manoeuvres, Julia + invited public recognition of them; in the way of joking, which she kept + within the limits of filial fondness, she made fun of her mother’s + infatuation to Breckon himself, and warned him against the moment when her + wiles might be too much for him. Before other people she did not hesitate + to save him from her mother, so that even those who believed her in the + conspiracy owned that no girl could have managed with more cleverness in a + situation where not every one would have refused to be placed. In this + situation Julia Rasmith had the service of a very clear head, and as was + believed by some, a cool heart; if she and her mother had joint designs + upon the minister, hers was the ambition, and her mother’s the affection + that prompted them. She was a long, undulant girl, of a mixed blondness + that left you in doubt, after you had left her, whether her hair or her + complexion were not of one tint; but her features were good, and there + could be no question of her captivating laugh, and her charming mouth, + which she was always pulling down with demure irony. She was like her + mother in her looks, but her indolent, droning temperament must have been + from her father, whose memory was lost in that antiquity which swallows up + the record of so many widows’ husbands, and who could not have left her + what was left of her mother’s money, for none of it had ever been his. It + was still her mother’s, and it was supposed to be the daughter’s chief + attraction. There must, therefore, have been a good deal of it, for those + who were harshest with the minister did not believe that a little money + would attract him. Not that they really thought him mercenary; some of his + people considered him gay to the verge of triviality, but there were none + that accused him of insincerity. They would have liked a little more + seriousness in him, especially when they had not much of their own, and + would have had him make up in severity of behavior for what he lacked, and + what they wished him to lack, in austerity of doctrine. + </p> + <p> + The Amstel had lost so much time in the rough weather of her first days + out that she could not make it up with her old-fashioned single screw. She + was at best a ten-day boat, counting from Sandy Hook to Boulogne, and she + had not been four days out when she promised to break her record for + slowness. Three days later Miss Rasmith said to Breckon, as he took the + chair which her mother agilely abandoned to him beside her: “The head + steward says it will be a twelve-day trip, end our bedroom steward thinks + more. What is the consensus of opinion in the smoking-room? Where are you + going, mother? Are you planning to leave Mr. Breckon and me alone again? + It isn’t necessary. We couldn’t get away from each other if we tried, and + all we ask—Well, I suppose age must be indulged in its little + fancies,” she called after Mrs. Rasmith. + </p> + <p> + Breckon took up the question she had asked him. “The odds are so heavily + in favor of a fifteen-days’ run that there are no takers.” + </p> + <p> + “Now you are joking again,” she said. “I thought a sea-voyage might make + you serious.” + </p> + <p> + “It has been tried before. Besides, it’s you that I want to be serious.” + </p> + <p> + “What about? Besides, I doubt it.” + </p> + <p> + “About Boyne.” + </p> + <p> + “Oh! I thought you were going to say some one else.” + </p> + <p> + “No, I think that is very well settled.” + </p> + <p> + “You’ll never persuade my mother,” said Miss Rasmith, with a low, + comfortable laugh. + </p> + <p> + “But if you are satisfied—” + </p> + <p> + “She will have to resign herself? Well, perhaps. But why do you wish me to + be serious about Boyne?” + </p> + <p> + “I have no doubt he amuses you. But that doesn’t seem a very good reason + why you should amuse yourself with him.” + </p> + <p> + “No? Why not?” + </p> + <p> + “Well, because the poor boy is in earnest; and you’re not exactly—contemporaries.” + </p> + <p> + “Why, how old is Boyne?” she asked, with affected surprise. + </p> + <p> + “About fifteen, I think,” said Breckon, gravely. + </p> + <p> + “And I’m but a very few months past thirty. I don’t see the great + disparity. But he is merely a brother to me—an elder brother—and + he gives me the best kind of advice.” + </p> + <p> + “I dare say you need it, but all the same, I am afraid you are putting + ideas into his head.” + </p> + <p> + “Well, if he began it? If he put them in mine first?” + </p> + <p> + She was evidently willing that he should go further, and create the common + ground between them that grows up when one gives a reproof and the other + accepts it; but Breckon, whether he thought that he had now done his duty, + and need say no more, or because he was vexed with her, left the subject. + </p> + <p> + “Mrs. Rasmith says you are going to Switzerland for the rest of the + summer.” + </p> + <p> + “Yes, to Montreux. Are you going to spend it in Paris?” + </p> + <p> + “I’m going to Paris to see. I have had some thoughts of Etretat; I have + cousins there.” + </p> + <p> + “I wish that I could go to the sea-side. But this happens to be one of the + summers when nothing but mountains can save my mother’s life. Shall you + get down to Rome before you go back?” + </p> + <p> + “I don’t know. If I sail from Naples I shall probably pass through Rome.” + </p> + <p> + “You had better stop off. We shall be there in November, and they say Rome + is worth seeing,” she laughed demurely. “That is what Boyne understands. + He’s promised to use his influence with his family to let him run down to + see us there, if he can’t get them all to come. You might offer to + personally conduct them.” + </p> + <p> + “Yes.” said Breckon, with the effect of cloture. “Have you made many + acquaintances an board?” + </p> + <p> + “What! Two lone women? You haven’t introduced us to any but the Kentons. + But I dare say they are the best. The judge is a dear, and Mrs. Kenton is + everything that is motherly and matronly. Boyne says she is very well + informed, and knows all about the reigning families. If he decides to + marry into them, she can be of great use in saving him from a mesalliance. + I can’t say very much for Miss Lottie. Miss Lottie seems to me distinctly + of the minx type. But that poor, pale girl is adorable. I wish she liked + me!” + </p> + <p> + “What makes you think she doesn’t like you?” Breckon asked. + </p> + <p> + “What? Women don’t require anything to convince them that other women + can’t bear them. They simply know it. I wonder what has happened to her?” + </p> + <p> + “Why do you think anything has happened to her?” + </p> + <p> + “Why? Well, girls don’t have that air of melancholy absence for nothing. + She is brooding upon something, you may be sure. But you have had so many + more opportunities than I! Do you mean that you haven’t suspected a + tragical past far her?” + </p> + <p> + “I don’t know,” said Breckon, a little restively, “that I have allowed + myself to speculate about her past.” + </p> + <p> + “That is, you oughtn’t to have allowed yourself to do so. Well, there I + agree with you. But a woman may do so without impertinence, and I am sure + that Miss Kenton has a story. I have watched her, and her face has told me + everything but the story.” + </p> + <p> + Breckon would not say that some such revelation had been made to him, and + in the absence of an answer from him Miss Rasmith asked, “Is she + cultivated, too?” + </p> + <p> + “Too?” + </p> + <p> + “Like her mother.” + </p> + <p> + “Oh! I should say she had read a good dial. And she’s bookish, yes, in a + simple-hearted kind of way.” + </p> + <p> + “She asks you if you have read ‘the book of the year,’ and whether you + don’t think the heroine is a beautiful character?” + </p> + <p> + “Not quite so bad as that. But if you care to be serious about her!” + </p> + <p> + “Oh, I do!” + </p> + <p> + “I doubt it. Then, I should say that she seems to have grown up in a place + where the interests are so material that a girl who was disposed to be + thoughtful would be thrown back upon reading for her society more than in + more intellectual centres—if there are such things. She has been so + much with books that she does not feel odd in speaking of them as if they + were the usual topics of conversation. It gives her a certain quaintness.” + </p> + <p> + “And that is what constitutes her charm?” + </p> + <p> + “I didn’t know that we were speaking of her charm.” + </p> + <p> + “No, that is true. But I was thinking of it. She fascinates me. Are they + going to get off at Boulogne?” + </p> + <p> + “No, they are going on to Rotterdam.” + </p> + <p> + “To be sure! Boyne told me. And are you going on with them?” + </p> + <p> + “I thought we talked of my going to Paris.” Breckon looked round at her, + and she made a gesture of deprecation. + </p> + <p> + “Why, of course! How could I forget? But I’m so much interested in Miss + Kenton that I can’t think of anything else.” + </p> + <p> + “Not even of Miss Rasmith?” + </p> + <p> + “Not even of Miss Rasmith. I know that she has a history, and that it’s a + sad one.” She paused in ironical hesitation. “You’ve been so good as to + caution me about her brother—and I never can be grateful enough—and + that makes me almost free to suggest—” + </p> + <p> + She stopped again, and he asked, hardily, “What?” + </p> + <p> + “Oh, nothing. It isn’t for me to remind my pastor, my ghostly adviser”—she + pulled down her mouth and glanced at him demurely—“and I will only + offer the generalization that a girl is never so much in danger of having + her heart broken as when she’s had it broken—Oh, are you leaving + me?” she cried, as Breckon rose from his chair. + </p> + <p> + “Well, then, send Boyne to me.” She broke into a laugh as he faltered. + “Are you going to sit down again? That is right. And I won’t talk any more + about Miss Kenton.” + </p> + <p> + “I don’t mind talking of her,” said Breckon. “Perhaps it will even be well + to do so if you are in earnest. Though it strikes me that you have rather + renounced the right to criticise me.” + </p> + <p> + “Now, is that logical? It seems to me that in putting myself in the + attitude of a final friend at the start, and refusing to be anything more, + I leave established my right to criticise you on the firmest basis. I + can’t possibly be suspected of interested motives. Besides, you’ve just + been criticizing me, if you want a woman’s reason!” + </p> + <p> + “Well, go on.” + </p> + <p> + “Why, I had finished. That’s the amusing part. I should have supposed that + I could go on forever about Miss Kenton, but I have nothing to go upon. + She has kept her secret very well, and so have the rest of them. You think + I might have got it out of Boyne? Perhaps I might, but you know I have my + little scruples. I don’t think it would be quite fair, or quite nice.” + </p> + <p> + “You are scrupulous. And I give you credit for having been more delicate + than I’ve been.” + </p> + <p> + “You don’t mean you’ve been trying to find it out!” + </p> + <p> + “Ah, now I’m not sure about the superior delicacy!” + </p> + <p> + “Oh, how good!” said Miss Rasmith. “What a pity you should be wasted in a + calling that limits you so much.” + </p> + <p> + “You call it limiting? I didn’t know but I had gone too far.” + </p> + <p> + “Not at all! You know there’s nothing I like so much as those little + digs.” + </p> + <p> + “I had forgotten. Then you won’t mind my saying that this surveillance + seems to me rather more than I have any right to from you.” + </p> + <p> + “How exquisitely you put it! Who else could have told me to mind my own + business so delightfully? Well, it isn’t my business. I acknowledge that, + and I spoke only because I knew you would be sorry if you had gone too + far. I remembered our promise to be friends.” + </p> + <p> + She threw a touch of real feeling into her tone, and he responded, “Yes, + and I thank you for it, though it isn’t easy.” + </p> + <p> + She put out her hand to him, and, as he questioningly took it, she pressed + his with animation. “Of course it isn’t! Or it wouldn’t be for any other + man. But don’t you suppose I appreciate that supreme courage of yours? + There is nobody else-nobody!—who could stand up to an impertinence + and turn it to praise by such humility.” + </p> + <p> + “Don’t go too far, or I shall be turning your praise to impertinence by my + humility. You’re quite right, though, about the main matter. I needn’t + suppose anything so preposterous as you suggest, to feel that people are + best left alone to outlive their troubles, unless they are of the most + obvious kind.” + </p> + <p> + “Now, if I thought I had done anything to stop you from offering that sort + of helpfulness which makes you a blessing to everybody, I should never + forgive myself.” + </p> + <p> + “Nothing so dire as that, I believe. But if you’ve made me question the + propriety of applying the blessing in all cases, you have done a very good + thing.” + </p> + <p> + Miss Rasmith was silent and apparently serious. After a moment she said, + “And I, for my part, promise to let poor little Boyne alone.” + </p> + <p> + Breckon laughed. “Don’t burlesque it! Besides, I haven’t promised + anything.” + </p> + <p> + “That is very true,” said Miss Rasmith, and she laughed, too. + </p> + <p> + <a name="link2H_4_0016" id="link2H_4_0016"> + <!-- H2 anchor --> </a> + </p> + <div style="height: 4em;"> + <br /><br /><br /><br /> + </div> + <h2> + XVI. + </h2> + <p> + In one of those dramatic reveries which we all hold with ourselves when + fortune has pressingly placed us, Ellen Kenton had imagined it possible + for her to tell her story to the man who had so gently and truly tried to + be her friend. It was mostly in the way of explaining to him how she was + unworthy of his friendship that the story was told, and she fancied + telling it without being scandalized at violating the conventions that + should have kept her from even dreaming of such a thing. It was all + exalted to a plane where there was no question of fit or unfit in doing + it, but only the occasion; and he would never hear of the unworthiness + which she wished to ascribe to herself. Sometimes he mournfully left her + when she persisted, left her forever, and sometimes he refused, and + retained with her in a sublime kindness, a noble amity, lofty and serene, + which did not seek to become anything else. In this case she would break + from her reveries with self-accusing cries, under her breath, of “Silly, + silly! Oh, how disgusting!” and if at that moment Breckon were really + coming up to sit by her, she would blush to her hair, and wish to run + away, and failing the force for this, would sit cold and blank to his + civilities, and have to be skilfully and gradually talked back to + self-respect and self-tolerance. + </p> + <p> + The recurrence of these reveries and their consequence in her made it + difficult for him to put in effect the promise he had given himself in + Miss Rasmith’s presence. If Ellen had been eager to welcome his coming, it + would have been very simple to keep away from her, but as she appeared + anxious to escape him, and had to be entreated, as it were, to suffer his + society, something better than his curiosity was piqued, though that was + piqued, too. He believed that he saw her lapsing again into that morbid + state from which he had seemed once able to save her, and he could not + help trying again. He was the more bound to do so by the ironical + observance of Miss Rasmith, who had to be defied first, and then + propitiated; certainly, when she saw him apparently breaking faith with + her, she had a right to some sort of explanation, but certainly also she + had no right to a blind and unreasoning submission from him. His + embarrassment was heightened by her interest in Miss Kenton, whom, with an + admirable show of now finding her safe from Breckon’s attractions, she was + always wishing to study from his observation. What was she really like? + The girl had a perfect fascination for her; she envied him his + opportunities of knowing her, and his privileges of making that melancholy + face light up with that heart-breaking smile, and of banishing that + delicious shyness with which she always seemed to meet him. Miss Rasmith + had noticed it; how could she help noticing it? + </p> + <p> + Breckon wished to himself that she had been able to help noticing it, or + were more capable of minding her own business than she showed herself, and + his heart closed about Ellen with a tenderness that was dangerously + indignant. At the same time he felt himself withheld by Miss Rasmith’s + witness from being all to the girl that he wished to be, and that he now + seemed to have been in those first days of storm, while Miss Rasmith and + her mother were still keeping their cabin. He foresaw that it would end in + Miss Rasmith’s sympathetic nature not being able to withhold itself from + Ellen’s need of cheerful companionship, and he was surprised, as little as + he was pleased, one morning, when he came to take the chair beside her to + find Miss Rasmith in it, talking and laughing to the girl, who perversely + showed herself amused. Miss Rasmith made as if to offer him the seat, but + he had to go away disappointed, after standing long enough before them to + be aware that they were suspending some topic while he stayed. + </p> + <p> + He naturally supposed the topic to be himself, but it was not so, or at + least not directly so. It was only himself as related to the scolding he + had given Miss Rasmith for trifling with the innocence of Boyne, which she + wished Miss Kenton to understand as the effect of a real affection for her + brother. She loved all boys, and Boyne was simply the most delightful + creature in the world. She went on to explain how delightful he was, and + showed a such an appreciation of the infantile sweetness mingled with the + mature severity of Boyne’s character that Ellen could not help being + pleased and won. She told some little stories of Boyne that threw a light + also their home life in Tuskingum, and Miss Rasmith declared herself + perfectly fascinated, and wished that she could go and live in Tuskingum. + She protested that she should not find it dull; Boyne alone would be + entertainment enough; and she figured a circumstance so idyllic from the + hints she had gathered, that Ellen’s brow darkened in silent denial, and + Miss Rasmith felt herself, as the children say in the game, very hot in + her proximity to the girl’s secret. She would have liked to know it, but + whether she felt that she could know it when she liked enough, or whether + she should not be so safe with Breckon in knowing it, she veered suddenly + away, and said that she was so glad to have Boyne’s family know the + peculiar nature of her devotion, which did not necessarily mean running + away with him, though it might come to that. She supposed she was a little + morbid about it from what Mr. Breckon had been saying; he had a conscience + that would break the peace of a whole community, though he was the + greatest possible favorite, not only with his own congregation, which + simply worshipped him, but with the best society, where he was in constant + request. + </p> + <p> + It was not her fault if she did not overdo these history, but perhaps it + was all true about the number of girls who were ready and willing to marry + him. It might even be true, though she had no direct authority for saying + it, that he had made up his mind never to marry, and that was the reason + why he felt himself so safe in being the nicest sort of friend. He was + safe, Miss Rasmith philosophized, but whether other people were so safe + was a different question. There were girls who were said to be dying for + him; but of course those things were always said about a handsome young + minister. She had frankly taken him on his own ground, from the beginning, + and she believed that this was what he liked. At any rate, they had agreed + that they were never to be anything but the best of friends, and they + always had been. + </p> + <p> + Mrs. Kenton came and shyly took the chair on Miss Rasmith’s other side, + and Miss Rasmith said they had been talking about Mr. Breckon, and she + repeated what she had been saying to Ellen. Mrs. Kenton assented more + openly than Ellen could to her praises, but when she went away, and her + daughter sat passive, without comment or apparent interest, the mother + drew a long, involuntary sigh. + </p> + <p> + “Do you like her, Ellen?” + </p> + <p> + “She tries to be pleasant, I think.” + </p> + <p> + “Do you think she really knows much about Mr. Breckon?” + </p> + <p> + “Oh yes. Why not? She belongs to his church.” + </p> + <p> + “He doesn’t seem to me like a person who would have a parcel of girls + tagging after him.” + </p> + <p> + “That is what they do in the East, Boyne says.” + </p> + <p> + “I wish she would let Boyne alone. She is making a fool of the child. He’s + round with her every moment. I think she ought to be ashamed, such an old + thing!” + </p> + <p> + Ellen chose to protest, or thought it fair to do so. “I don’t believe she + is doing him any harm. She just lets him talk out, and everybody else + checks him up so. It was nice of her to come and talk with me, when we had + all been keeping away from her. Perhaps he sent her, though. She says they + have always been such good friends because she wouldn’t be anything else + from the beginning.” + </p> + <p> + “I don’t see why she need have told you that.” + </p> + <p> + “Oh, it was just to show he was run after. I wonder if he thinks we are + running after him? Momma, I am tired of him! I wish he wouldn’t speak to + me any more.” + </p> + <p> + “Why! do you really dislike him, Ellen?” + </p> + <p> + “No, not dislike him. But it tires me to have him trying to amuse me. + Don’t you understand?” + </p> + <p> + Mrs. Kenton said yes, she understood, but she was clear only of the fact + that Ellen seemed flushed and weak at that moment. She believed that it + was Miss Rasmith and not Mr. Breckon who was to blame, but she said: + “Well, you needn’t worry about it long. It will only be a day or two now + till we get to Boulogne, and then he will leave us. Hadn’t you better go + down now, and rest awhile in your berth? I will bring your things.” + </p> + <p> + Ellen rose, pulling her wraps from her skirts to give them to her mother. + A voice from behind said between their meeting shoulders: “Oh, are you + going down? I was just coming to beg Miss Kenton to take a little walk + with me,” and they looked round together and met Breckon’s smiling face. + </p> + <p> + “I’m afraid,” Mrs. Kenton began, and then, like a well-trained American + mother, she stopped and left the affair to her daughter. + </p> + <p> + “Do you think you can get down with them, momma?” the girl asked, and + somehow her mother’s heart was lightened by her evasion, not to call it + uncandor. It was at least not morbid, it was at least like other girls, + and Mrs. Kenton imparted what comfort there was in it to the judge, when + he asked where she had left Ellen. + </p> + <p> + “Not that it’s any use,” she sighed, when she had seen him share it with a + certain shamefacedness. “That woman has got her grip on him, and she + doesn’t mean to let go.” + </p> + <p> + Kenton understood Miss Rasmith by that woman; but he would not allow + himself to be so easily cast down. This was one of the things that + provoked Mrs. Kenton with him; when he had once taken hope he would not + abandon it without reason. “I don’t see any evidence of her having her + grip on him. I’ve noticed him, and he doesn’t seem attentive to her. I + should say he tried to avoid her. He certainly doesn’t avoid Ellen.” + </p> + <p> + “What are you thinking of, Rufus?” + </p> + <p> + “What are you? You know we’d both be glad if he fancied her.” + </p> + <p> + “Well, suppose we would? I don’t deny it. He is one of the most agreeable + gentlemen I ever saw; one of the kindest and nicest.” + </p> + <p> + “He’s more than that,” said the judge. “I’ve been sounding him on various + points, and I don’t see where he’s wrong. Of course, I don’t know much + about his religious persuasion, if it is one, but I think I’m a pretty + fair judge of character, and that young man has character. He isn’t a + light person, though he likes joking and laughing, and he appreciates + Ellen.” + </p> + <p> + “Yes, so do we. And there’s about as much prospect of his marrying her. + Rufus, it’s pretty hard! She’s just in the mood to be taken with him, but + she won’t let herself, because she knows it’s of no use. That Miss Rasmith + has been telling her how much he is run after, and I could see that that + settled it for Ellen as plainly as if she said so. More plainly, for + there’s enough of the girl in her to make her say one thing when she means + another. She was just saying she was sick of him, and never wanted to + speak to him again, when he came up and asked her to walk, and she went + with him instantly. I knew what she meant. She wasn’t going to let him + suppose that anything Miss Rasmith had said was going to change her.” + </p> + <p> + “Well, then,” said the judge, “I don’t see what you’re scared at.” + </p> + <p> + “I’m not SCARED. But, oh, Rufus! It can’t come to anything! There isn’t + time!” An hysterical hope trembled in her asseveration of despair that + made him smile. + </p> + <p> + “I guess if time’s all that’s wanted—” + </p> + <p> + “He is going to get off at Boulogne.” + </p> + <p> + “Well, we can get off there, too.” + </p> + <p> + “Rufus, if you dare to think of such a thing!” + </p> + <p> + “I don’t. But Europe isn’t so big but what he can find us again if he + wants to.” + </p> + <p> + “Ah, if he wants to!” + </p> + <p> + Ellen seemed to have let her mother take her languor below along with the + shawls she had given her. Buttoned into a close jacket, and skirted short + for the sea, she pushed against the breeze at Breckon’s elbow with a vigor + that made him look his surprise at her. Girl-like, she took it that + something was wrong with her dress, and ran herself over with an uneasy + eye. + </p> + <p> + Then he explained: “I was just thinking how much you were like Miss + Lottie-if you’ll excuse my being so personal. And it never struck me + before.” + </p> + <p> + “I didn’t suppose we looked alike,” said Ellen. + </p> + <p> + “No, certainly. I shouldn’t have taken you for sisters. And yet, just now, + I felt that you were like her. You seem so much stronger this morning—perhaps + it’s that the voyage is doing you good. Shall you be sorry to have it + end?” + </p> + <p> + “Shall you? That’s the way Lottie would answer.” + </p> + <p> + Breckon laughed. “Yes, it is. I shall be very sorry. I should be willing + to have it rough again, it that would make it longer. I liked it’s being + rough. We had it to ourselves.” He had not thought how that sounded, but + if it sounded particular, she did not notice it. + </p> + <p> + She merely said, “I was surprised not to be seasick, too.” + </p> + <p> + “And should you be willing to have it rough again?” + </p> + <p> + “You wouldn’t see anything more of your friends, then.” + </p> + <p> + “Ah, yes; Miss Rasmith. She is a great talker, Did you find her + interesting?” + </p> + <p> + “She was very interesting.” + </p> + <p> + “Yes? What did she talk about?” + </p> + <p> + Ellen realized the fact too late to withhold “Why, about you.” + </p> + <p> + “And was that what made her interesting?” + </p> + <p> + “Now, what would Lottie say to such a thing as that?” asked Ellen, gayly. + </p> + <p> + “Something terribly cutting, I’m afraid. But don’t you! From you I don’t + want to believe I deserve it, no matter what Miss Rasmith said me.” + </p> + <p> + “Oh, she didn’t say anything very bad. Unless you mind being a universal + favorite.” + </p> + <p> + “Well, it makes a man out rather silly.” + </p> + <p> + “But you can’t help that.” + </p> + <p> + “Now you remind me of Miss Lottie again!” + </p> + <p> + “But I didn’t mean that,” said Ellen, blushing and laughing. “I hope you + wouldn’t think I could be so pert.” + </p> + <p> + “I wouldn’t think anything that wasn’t to your praise,” said Breckon, and + a pause ensued, after which the words he added seemed tame and flat. “I + suspect Miss Rasmith has been idealizing the situation. At any rate, I + shouldn’t advise you to trust her report implicitly. I’m at the head of a + society, you know, ethical or sociological, or altruistic, whatever you + choose to call it, which hasn’t any very definite object of worship, and + yet meets every Sunday for a sort of worship; and I have to be in the + pulpit. So you see?” + </p> + <p> + Ellen said, “I think I understand,” with a temptation to smile at the + ruefulness of his appeal. + </p> + <p> + Breckon laughed for her. “That’s the mischief and the absurdity of it. But + it isn’t so bad as it seems. They’re really most of them hard-headed + people; and those that are not couldn’t make a fool of a man that nature + hadn’t begun with. Still, I’m not very well satisfied with my work among + them—that is, I’m not satisfied with myself.” He was talking soberly + enough, and he did not find that she was listening too seriously. “I’m + going away to see whether I shall come back.” He looked at her to make + sure that she had taken his meaning, and seemed satisfied that she had. + “I’m not sure that I’m fit for any sort of ministry, and I may find the + winter in England trying to find out. I was at school in England, you + know.” + </p> + <p> + Ellen confessed that she had not known that. + </p> + <p> + “Yes; I suppose that’s what made me seem ‘so Englishy’ the first day to + Miss Lottie, as she called it. But I’m straight enough American as far as + parentage goes. Do you think you will be in England-later?” + </p> + <p> + “I don’t know. If poppa gets too homesick we will go back in the fall.” + </p> + <p> + “Miss Kenton,” said the young man, abruptly, “will you let me tell you how + much I admire and revere your father?” + </p> + <p> + Tears came into her eyes and her throat swelled. “But you don’t know,” she + begun; and then she stopped. + </p> + <p> + “I have been wanting to submit something to his judgment; but I’ve been + afraid. I might seem to be fishing for his favor.” + </p> + <p> + “Poppa wouldn’t think anything that was unjust,” said Ellen, gravely. + </p> + <p> + “Ah,” Breckon laughed, “I suspect that I should rather have him unjust. I + wish you’d tell me what he would think.” + </p> + <p> + “But I don’t know what it is,” she protested, with a reflected smile. + </p> + <p> + “I was in hopes Miss Rasmith might have told you. Well, it is simply this, + and you will see that I’m not quite the universal favorite she’s been + making you fancy me. There is a rift in my lute, a schism in my little + society, which is so little that I could not have supposed there was + enough of it to break in two. There are some who think their lecturer—for + that’s what I amount to—ought to be an older, if not a graver man. + They are in the minority, but they’re in the right, I’m afraid; and that’s + why I happen to be here telling you all this. It’s a question of whether I + ought to go back to New York or stay in London, where there’s been a faint + call for me.” He saw the girl listening devoutly, with that flattered look + which a serious girl cannot keep out of her face when a man confides a + serious matter to her. “I might safely promise to be older, but could I + keep my word if I promised to be graver? That’s the point. If I were a + Calvinist I might hold fast by faith, and fight it out with that; or if I + were a Catholic I could cast myself upon the strength of the Church, and + triumph in spite of temperament. Then it wouldn’t matter whether I was + grave or gay; it might be even better if I were gay. But,” he went on, in + terms which, doubtless, were not then for the first time formulated in his + mind, “being merely the leader of a sort of forlorn hope in the Divine + Goodness, perhaps I have no right to be so cheerful.” + </p> + <p> + The note of a sad irony in his words appealed to such indignation for him + in Ellen as she never felt for herself. But she only said, “I don’t + believe Poppa could take that in the wrong way if you told him.” + </p> + <p> + Breckon stared. “Yes your father! What would he say?” + </p> + <p> + “I can’t tell you. But I’m sure he would know what you meant.” + </p> + <p> + “And you,” he pursued, “what should YOU say?” + </p> + <p> + “I? I never thought about such a thing. You mustn’t ask me, if you’re + serious; and if you’re not—” + </p> + <p> + “But I am; I am deeply serious. I would like, to know how the case strikes + you. I shall be so grateful if you will tell me.” + </p> + <p> + “I’m sorry I can’t, Mr. Breckon. Why don’t you ask poppa?” + </p> + <p> + “No, I see now I sha’n’t be able. I feel too much, after telling you, as + if I had been posing. The reality has gone out of it all. And I’m + ashamed.” + </p> + <p> + “You mustn’t be,” she said, quietly; and she added, “I suppose it would be + like a kind of defeat if you didn’t go back?” + </p> + <p> + “I shouldn’t care for the appearance of defeat,” he said, courageously. + “The great question is, whether somebody else wouldn’t be of more use in + my place.” + </p> + <p> + “Nobody could be,” said she, in a sort of impassioned absence, and then + coming to herself, “I mean, they wouldn’t think so, I don’t believe.” + </p> + <p> + “Then you advise—” + </p> + <p> + “No, no! I can’t; I don’t. I’m not fit to have an opinion about such a + thing; it would be crazy. But poppa—” + </p> + <p> + They were at the door of the gangway, and she slipped within and left him. + His nerves tingled, and there was a glow in his breast. It was sweet to + have surprised that praise from her, though he could not have said why he + should value the praise or a girl of her open ignorance and inexperience + in everything that would have qualified her to judge him. But he found + himself valuing it supremely, and wonderingly wishing to be worthy of it. + </p> + <p> + <a name="link2H_4_0017" id="link2H_4_0017"> + <!-- H2 anchor --> </a> + </p> + <div style="height: 4em;"> + <br /><br /><br /><br /> + </div> + <h2> + XVII. + </h2> + <p> + Ellen discovered her father with a book in a distant corner of the + dining-saloon, which he preferred to the deck or the library for his + reading, in such intervals as the stewards, laying and cleaning the + tables, left him unmolested in it. She advanced precipitately upon him, + and stood before him in an excitement which, though he lifted his dazed + eyes to it from his page, he was not entirely aware of till afterwards. + Then he realized that her cheeks were full of color, and her eyes of + light, and that she panted as if she had been running when she spoke. + </p> + <p> + “Poppa,” she said, “there is something that Mr. Breckon wants to speak to + you—to ask you about. He has asked me, but I want you to see him, + for I think he had better tell you himself.” + </p> + <p> + While he still stared at her she was as suddenly gone as she had come, and + he remained with his book, which the meaning had as suddenly left. There + was no meaning in her words, except as he put it into them, and after he + had got it in he struggled with it in a sort of perfunctory incredulity. + It was not impossible; it chiefly seemed so because it seemed too good to + be true; and the more he pondered it the more possible, if not probable, + it became. He could not be safe with it till he had submitted it to his + wife; and he went to her while he was sure of repeating Ellen’s words + without varying from them a syllable. + </p> + <p> + To his astonishment, Mrs. Kenton was instantly convinced. “Why, of + course,” she said, “it can’t possibly mean anything else. Why should it be + so very surprising? The time hasn’t been very long, but they’ve been + together almost every moment; and he was taken with her from the very + beginning—I could see that. Put on your other coat,” she said, as + she dusted the collar of the coat the judge was wearing. “He’ll be looking + you up, at once. I can’t say that it’s unexpected,” and she claimed a + prescience in the matter which all her words had hitherto denied. + </p> + <p> + Kenton did not notice her inconsistency. “If it were not so exactly what I + wished,” he said, “I don’t know that I should be surprised at it myself. + Sarah, if I had been trying to imagine any one for Ellen, I couldn’t have + dreamed of a person better suited to her than this young man. He’s + everything that I could wish him to be. I’ve seen the pleasure and comfort + she took in his way from the first moment. He seemed to make her forget—Do + you suppose she has forgotten that miserable wretch Do you think—” + </p> + <p> + “If she hadn’t, could she be letting him come to speak to you? I don’t + believe she ever really cared for Bittridge—or not after he began + flirting with Mrs. Uphill.” She had no shrinking from the names which + Kenton avoided with disgust. “The only question for you is to consider + what you shall say to Mr. Breckon.” + </p> + <p> + “Say to him? Why, of course, if Ellen has made up her mind, there’s only + one thing I can say.” + </p> + <p> + “Indeed there is! He ought to know all about that disgusting Bittridge + business, and you have got to tell him.” + </p> + <p> + “Sarah, I couldn’t. It is too humiliating. How would it do to refer him to—You + could manage that part so much better. I don’t see how I could keep it + from seeming an indelicate betrayal of the poor child—” + </p> + <p> + “Perhaps she’s told him herself,” Mrs. Kenton provisionally suggested. + </p> + <p> + The judge eagerly caught at the notion. “Do you think so? It would be like + her! Ellen would wish him to know everything.” + </p> + <p> + He stopped, and his wife could see that he was trembling with excitement. + “We must find out. I will speak to Ellen—” + </p> + <p> + “And—you don’t think I’d better have the talk with him first?” + </p> + <p> + “Certainly not!” + </p> + <p> + “Why, Rufus! You were not going to look him up?” + </p> + <p> + “No,” he hesitated; but she could see that some such thing had been on his + mind. + </p> + <p> + “Surely,” she said, “you must be crazy!” But she had not the heart to + blight his joy with sarcasm, and perhaps no sarcasm would have blighted + it. + </p> + <p> + “I merely wondered what I had better say in case he spoke to me before you + saw Ellen—that’s all. Sarah! I couldn’t have believed that anything + could please me so much. But it does seem as if it were the assurance of + Ellen’s happiness; and she has deserved it, poor child! If ever there was + a dutiful and loving daughter—at least before that wretched affair—she + was one.” + </p> + <p> + “She has been a good girl,” Mrs. Kenton stoically admitted. + </p> + <p> + “And they are very well matched. Ellen is a cultivated woman. He never + could have cause to blush for her, either her mind or her manners, in any + circle of society; she would do him credit under any and all + circumstances. If it were Lottie—” + </p> + <p> + “Lottie is all right,” said her mother, in resentment of his preference; + but she could not help smiling at it. “Don’t you be foolish about Ellen. I + approve of Mr. Breckon as much as you do. But it’s her prettiness and + sweetness that’s taken his fancy, and not her wisdom, if she’s got him.” + </p> + <p> + “If she’s got him?” + </p> + <p> + “Well, you know what I mean. I’m not saying she hasn’t. Dear knows, I + don’t want to! I feel just as you do about it. I think it’s the greatest + piece of good fortune, coming on top of all our trouble with her. I + couldn’t have imagined such a thing.” + </p> + <p> + He was instantly appeased. “Are you going to speak with Ellen” he + radiantly inquired. + </p> + <p> + “I will see. There’s no especial hurry, is there?” + </p> + <p> + “Only, if he should happen to meet me—” + </p> + <p> + “You can keep out of his way, I reckon. Or You can put him off, somehow.” + </p> + <p> + “Yes,” Kenton returned, doubtfully. “Don’t,” he added, “be too blunt with + Ellen. You know she didn’t say anything explicit to me.” + </p> + <p> + “I think I will know how to manage, Mr. Kenton.” + </p> + <p> + “Yes, of course, Sarah. I’m not saying that.” + </p> + <p> + Breckon did not apparently try to find the judge before lunch, and at + table he did not seem especially devoted to Ellen in her father’s jealous + eyes. He joked Lottie, and exchanged those passages or repartee with her + in which she did not mind using a bludgeon when she had not a rapier at + hand; it is doubtful if she was very sensible of the difference. Ellen sat + by in passive content, smiling now and then, and Boyne carried on a + dignified conversation with Mr. Pogis, whom he had asked to lunch at his + table, and who listened with one ear to the vigorous retorts of Lottie in + her combat with Breckon. + </p> + <p> + The judge witnessed it all with a grave displeasure, more and more + painfully apparent to his wife. She could see the impatience, the + gathering misgiving, in his face, and she perceived that she must not let + this come to conscious dissatisfaction with Breckon; she knew her husband + capable of indignation with trifling which would complicate the situation, + if it came to that. She decided to speak with Ellen as soon as possible, + and she meant to follow her to her state-room when they left the table. + But fate assorted the pieces in the game differently. Boyne walked over to + the place where Miss Rasmith was sitting with her mother; Lottie and Mr. + Pogis went off to practise duets together, terrible, four-handed torments + under which the piano presently clamored; and Ellen stood for a moment + talked to by Mr. Breckon, who challenged her then for a walk on deck, and + with whom she went away smiling. + </p> + <p> + Mrs. Kenton appealed with the reflection of the girl’s happiness in her + face to the frowning censure in her husband’s; but Kenton spoke first. + “What does he mean?” he demanded, darkly. “If he is making a fool of her + he’ll find that that game can’t be played twice, with impunity. Sarah, I + believe I should choke him.” + </p> + <p> + “Mr. Kenton!” she gasped, and she trembled in fear of him, even while she + kept herself with difficulty from shaking him for his folly. “Don’t say + such a thing! Can’t you see that they want to talk it over? If he hasn’t + spoken to you it’s because he wants to know how you took what she said.” + Seeing the effect of these arguments, she pursued: “Will you never have + any sense? I will speak to Ellen the very minute I get her alone, and you + have just got to wait. Don’t you suppose it’s hard for me, too? Have I got + nothing to bear?” + </p> + <p> + Kenton went silently back to his book, which he took with him to the + reading-room, where from time to time his wife came to him and reported + that Ellen and Breckon were still walking up and down together, or that + they were sitting down talking, or were forward, looking over at the prow, + or were watching the deck-passengers dancing. Her husband received her + successive advices with relaxing interest, and when she had brought the + last she was aware that the affair was entirely in her hands with all the + responsibility. After the gay parting between Ellen and Breckon, which + took place late in the afternoon, she suffered an interval to elapse + before she followed the girl down to her state-room. She found her lying + in her berth, with shining eyes and glad, red cheeks; she was smiling to + herself. + </p> + <p> + “That is right, Ellen,” her mother said. “You need rest after your long + tramp.” + </p> + <p> + “I’m not tired. We were sitting down a good deal. I didn’t think how late + it was. I’m ever so much better. Where’s Lottie?” + </p> + <p> + “Off somewhere with that young Englishman,” said Mrs. Kenton, as if that + were of no sort of consequence. “Ellen,” she added, abruptly, trying + within a tremulous smile to hide her eagerness, “what is this that Mr. + Breckon wants to talk with your father about?” + </p> + <p> + “Mr. Breckon? With poppa?” + </p> + <p> + “Yes, certainly. You told him this morning that Mr. Breckon—” + </p> + <p> + “Oh! Oh yes!” said Ellen, as if recollecting something that had slipped + her mind. “He wants poppa to advise him whether to go back to his + congregation in New York or not.” + </p> + <p> + Mrs. Kenton sat in the corner of the sofa next the door, looking into the + girl’s face on the pillow as she lay with her arms under her head. Tears + of defeat and shame came into her eyes, and she could not see the girl’s + light nonchalance in adding: + </p> + <p> + “But he hasn’t got up his courage yet. He thinks he’ll ask him after + dinner. He says he doesn’t want poppa to think he’s posing. I don’t know + what he means.” + </p> + <p> + Mrs. Kenton did not speak at once. Her bitterest mortification was not for + herself, but for the simple and tender father-soul which had been so tried + already. She did not know how he would bear it, the disappointment, and + the cruel hurt to his pride. But she wanted to fall on her knees in + thankfulness that he had betrayed himself only to her. + </p> + <p> + She started in sudden alarm with the thought. “Where is he now—Mr. + Breckon?” + </p> + <p> + “He’s gone with Boyne down into the baggage-room.” + </p> + <p> + Mrs. Kenton sank back in her corner, aware now that she would not have had + the strength to go to her husband even to save him from the awful disgrace + of giving himself away to Breckon. “And was that all?” she faltered. + </p> + <p> + “All?” + </p> + <p> + “That he wanted to speak to your father about?” + </p> + <p> + She must make irrefragably sure, for Kenton’s sake, that she was not + misunderstanding. + </p> + <p> + “Why, of course! What else? Why, momma! what are you crying about?” + </p> + <p> + “I’m not crying, child. Just some foolishness of your father’s. He + understood—he thought—” Mrs. Kenton began to laugh + hysterically. “But you know how ridiculous he is; and he supposed—No, + I won’t tell you!” + </p> + <p> + It was not necessary. The girl’s mind, perhaps because it was imbued + already with the subject, had possessed itself of what filled her + mother’s. She dropped from the elbow on which she had lifted herself, and + turned her face into the pillow, with a long wail of shame. + </p> + <p> + <a name="link2H_4_0018" id="link2H_4_0018"> + <!-- H2 anchor --> </a> + </p> + <div style="height: 4em;"> + <br /><br /><br /><br /> + </div> + <h2> + XVIII. + </h2> + <p> + Mrs. Kenton’s difficulties in setting her husband right were indefinitely + heightened by the suspicion that the most unsuspicious of men fell into + concerning Breckon. Did Breckon suppose that the matter could be turned + off in that way? he stupidly demanded; and when he was extricated from + this error by his wife’s representation that Breckon had not changed at + all, but had never told Ellen that he wished to speak with him of anything + but his returning to his society, Kenton still could not accept the fact. + He would have contended that at least the other matter must have been in + Breckon’s mind; and when he was beaten from this position, and convinced + that the meaning they had taken from Ellen’s words had never been in any + mind but their own, he fell into humiliation so abject that he could hide + it only by the hauteur with which he carried himself towards Breckon when + they met at dinner. He would scarcely speak to the young man; Ellen did + not come to the table; Lottie and Boyne and their friend Mr. Pogis were + dining with the Rasmiths, and Mrs. Kenton had to be, as she felt, + cringingly kind to Breckon in explaining just the sort of temporary + headache that kept her eldest daughter away. He was more than ordinarily + sympathetic and polite, but he was manifestly bewildered by Kenton’s + behavior. He refused an hilarious invitation from Mrs. Rasmith, when he + rose from table, to stop and have his coffee with her on his way out of + the saloon. His old adorer explained that she had ordered a small bottle + of champagne in honor of its being the night before they were to get into + Boulogne, and that he ought to sit down and help her keep the young people + straight. Julia, she brokenly syllabled, with the gay beverage bubbling + back into her throat, was not the least use; she was worse than any. Julia + did not look it, in the demure regard which she bent upon her amusing + mother, and Breckon persisted in refusing. He said he thought he might + safely leave them to Boyne, and Mrs. Rasmith said into her handkerchief, + “Oh yes! Boyne!” and pressed Boyne’s sleeve with her knobbed and jewelled + fingers. + </p> + <p> + It was evident where most of the small bottle had gone, but Breckon was + none the cheerfuller for the spectacle of Mrs. Rasmith. He could not have + a moment’s doubt as to the sort of work he had been doing in New York if + she were an effect of it, and he turned his mind from the sad certainty + back to the more important inquiry as to what offence his wish to advise + with Judge Kenton could have conveyed. Ellen had told him in the afternoon + that she had spoken with her father about it, and she had not intimated + any displeasure or reluctance on him; but apparently he had decided not to + suffer himself to be approached. + </p> + <p> + It might be as well. Breckon had not been able to convince himself that + his proposal to consult Judge Kenton was not a pose. He had flashes of + owning that it was contemplated merely as a means of ingratiating himself + with Ellen. Now, as he found his way up and down among the empty + steamer-chairs, he was aware, at the bottom of his heart, of not caring in + the least for Judge Kenton’s repellent bearing, except as it possibly, or + impossibly, reflected some mood of hers. He could not make out her not + coming to dinner; the headache was clearly an excuse; for some reason she + did not wish to see him, he argued, with the egotism of his condition. + </p> + <p> + The logic of his conclusion was strengthened at breakfast by her continued + absence; and this time Mrs. Kenton made no apologies for her. The judge + was a shade less severe; or else Breckon did not put himself so much in + the way to be withheld as he had the night before. Boyne and Lottie + carried on a sort of muted scrap, unrebuked by their mother, who seemed + too much distracted in some tacit trouble to mind them. From time to time + Breckon found her eyes dwelling upon him wonderingly, entreatingly; she + dropped them, if she caught his, and colored. + </p> + <p> + In the afternoon it was early evident that they were approaching Boulogne. + The hatch was opened and the sailors began getting up the baggage of the + passengers who were going to disembark. It seemed a long time for + everybody till the steamer got in; those going ashore sat on their + hand-baggage for an hour before the tug came up to take, them off. Mr. + Pogis was among them; he had begun in the forenoon to mark the approaching + separation between Lottie and himself by intervals of unmistakable + withdrawal. Another girl might have cared, but Lottie did not care, for + her failure to get a rise out of him by her mockingly varied “Oh, I say!” + and “Well, rather!” In the growth of his dignified reserve Mr. Pogis was + indifferent to jeers. By whatever tradition of what would or would not do + he was controlled in relinquishing her acquaintance, or whether it was in + obedience to some imperative ideal, or some fearful domestic influence + subtly making itself felt from the coasts of his native island, or some + fine despair of equalling the imagined grandeur of Lottie’s social state + in Tuskingum by anything he could show her in England, it was certain that + he was ending with Lottie then and there. At the same time he was + carefully defining himself from the Rasmiths, with whom he must land. He + had his state-room things put at an appreciable distance, where he did not + escape a final stab from Lottie. + </p> + <p> + “Oh, do give me a rose out of that,” she entreated, in travestied + imploring, as he stood looking at a withered bouquet which the steward had + brought up with his rugs. + </p> + <p> + “I’m takin’ it home,” he explained, coldly. + </p> + <p> + “And I want to take a rose back to New York. I want to give it to a friend + of mine there.” + </p> + <p> + Mr. Pogis hesitated. Then he asked, “A man?” “Well, rather!” said Lottie. + </p> + <p> + He answered nothing, but looked definitively down at the flowers in his + hand. + </p> + <p> + “Oh, I say!” Lottie exulted. + </p> + <p> + Boyne remained fixed in fealty to the Rasmiths, with whom Breckon was also + talking as Mrs. Kenton came up with the judge. She explained how sorry her + daughter Ellen was at not being able to say goodbye; she was still not at + all well; and the ladies received her excuses with polite patience. Mrs. + Rasmith said she did not know what they should do without Boyne, and Miss + Rasmith put her arm across his shoulders and pulled him up to her, and + implored, “Oh, give him to me, Mrs. Kenton!” + </p> + <p> + Boyne stole an ashamed look at his mother, and his father said, with an + unbending to Breckon which must have been the effect of severe + expostulation from Mrs. Kenton, “I suppose you and the ladies will go to + Paris together.” + </p> + <p> + “Why, no,” Breckon said, and he added, with mounting confusion, “I—I + had arranged to keep on to Rotterdam. I was going to mention it.” + </p> + <p> + “Keep on to Rotterdam!” Mrs. Rasmith’s eyes expressed the greatest + astonishment. + </p> + <p> + “Why, of course, mother!” said her daughter. “Don’t you know? Boyne told + us.” + </p> + <p> + Boyne, after their parting, seized the first chance of assuring his mother + that he had not told Miss Rasmith that, for he had not known it, and he + went so far in her condemnation to wonder how she could say such a thing. + His mother said it was not very nice, and then suggested that perhaps she + had heard it from some one else, and thought it was he. She acquitted him + of complicity with Miss Rasmith in forbearing to contradict her; and it + seemed to her a fitting time to find out from Boyne what she honestly + could about the relation of the Rasmiths to Mr. Breckon. It was very + little beyond their supposition, which every one else had shared, that he + was going to land with them at Boulogne, and he must have changed his mind + very suddenly. Boyne had not heard the Rasmiths speak of it. Miss Rasmith + never spoke of Mr. Breckon at all; but she seemed to want to talk of + Ellen; she was always asking about her, and what was the matter with her, + and how long she had been sick. + </p> + <p> + “Boyne,” said his mother, with a pang, “you didn’t tell her anything about + Ellen?” + </p> + <p> + “Momma!” said the boy, in such evident abhorrence of the idea that she + rested tranquil concerning it. She paid little attention to what Boyne + told her otherwise of the Rasmiths. Her own horizon were so limited that + she could not have brought home to herself within them that wandering life + the Rasmiths led from climate to climate and sensation to sensation, with + no stay so long as the annually made in New York, where they sometimes + passed months enough to establish themselves in giving and taking tea in a + circle of kindred nomads. She conjectured as ignorantly as Boyne himself + that they were very rich, and it would not have enlightened her to know + that the mother was the widow of a California politician, whom she had + married in the sort of middle period following upon her less mortuary + survival of Miss Rasmith’s father, whose name was not Rasmith. + </p> + <p> + What Mrs. Kenton divined was that they had wanted to get Breckon, and that + so far as concerned her own interest in him they had wanted to get him + away from Ellen. In her innermost self-confidences she did not permit + herself the notion that Ellen had any right to him; but still it was a + relief to have them off the ship, and to have him left. Of all the + witnesses of the fact, she alone did not find it awkward. Breckon himself + found it very awkward. He did not wish to be with the Rasmiths, but he + found it uncomfortable not being with them, under the circumstances, and + he followed them ashore in tingling reveries of explanation and apology. + He had certainly meant to get off at Boulogne, and when he had suddenly + and tardily made up his mind to keep on to Rotterdam, he had meant to tell + them as soon as he had the labels on his baggage changed. He had not meant + to tell them why he had changed his mind, and he did not tell them now in + these tingling reveries. He did not own the reason in his secret thoughts, + for it no longer seemed a reason; it no longer seemed a cause. He knew + what the Rasmiths would think; but he could easily make that right with + his conscience, at least, by parting with the Kentons at Rotterdam, and + leaving them to find their unconducted way to any point they chose beyond. + He separated himself uncomfortably from them when the tender had put off + with her passengers and the ship had got under way again, and went to the + smoking-room, while the judge returned to his book and Mrs. Kenton + abandoned Lottie to her own devices, and took Boyne aside for her + apparently fruitless inquiries. + </p> + <p> + They were not really so fruitless but that at the end of them she could go + with due authority to look up her husband. She gently took his book from + him and shut it up. “Now, Mr. Kenton,” she began, “if you don’t go right + straight and find Mr. Breckon and talk with him, I—I don’t know what + I will do. You must talk to him—” + </p> + <p> + “About Ellen?” the judge frowned. + </p> + <p> + “No, certainly not. Talk with him about anything that interests you. Be + pleasant to him. Can’t you see that he’s going on to Rotterdam on our + account?” + </p> + <p> + “Then I wish he wasn’t. There’s no use in it.” + </p> + <p> + “No matter! It’s polite in him, and I want you to show him that you + appreciate it.” + </p> + <p> + “Now see here, Sarah,” said the judge, “if you want him shown that we + appreciate his politeness why don’t you do it yourself?” + </p> + <p> + “I? Because it would look as if you were afraid to. It would look as if we + meant something by it.” + </p> + <p> + “Well, I am afraid; and that’s just what I’m afraid of. I declare, my + heart comes into my mouth whenever I think what an escape we had. I think + of it whenever I look at him, and I couldn’t talk to him without having + that in my mind all the time. No, women can manage those things better. If + you believe he is going along on our account, so as to help us see + Holland, and to keep us from getting into scrapes, you’re the one to make + it up to him. I don’t care what you say to show him our gratitude. I + reckon we will get into all sorts of trouble if we’re left to ourselves. + But if you think he’s stayed because he wants to be with Ellen, and—” + </p> + <p> + “Oh, I don’t KNOW what I think! And that’s silly I can’t talk to him. I’m + afraid it’ll seem as if we wanted to flatter him, and goodness knows we + don’t want to. Or, yes, we do! I’d give anything if it was true. Rufus, do + you suppose he did stay on her account? My, oh my! If I could only think + so! Wouldn’t it be the best thing in the world for the poor child, and for + all of us? I never saw anybody that I liked so much. But it’s too good to + be true.” + </p> + <p> + “He’s a nice fellow, but I don’t think he’s any too good for Ellen.” + </p> + <p> + “I’m not saying he is. The great thing is that he’s good enough, and + gracious knows what will happen if she meets some other worthless fellow, + and gets befooled with him! Or if she doesn’t take a fancy to some one, + and goes back to Tuskingum without seeing any one else she likes, there is + that awful wretch, and when she hears what Dick did to him—she’s + just wrong-headed enough to take up with him again to make amends to him. + Oh, dear oh, dear! I know Lottie will let it out to her yet!” + </p> + <p> + The judge began threateningly, “You tell Lottie from me—” + </p> + <p> + “What?” said the girl herself, who had seen her father and mother talking + together in a remote corner of the music-room and had stolen + light-footedly upon them just at this moment. + </p> + <p> + “Lottie, child,” said her mother, undismayed at Lottie’s arrival in her + larger anxiety, “I wish you would try and be agreeable to Mr. Breckon. Now + that he’s going on with us to Holland, I don’t want him to think we’re + avoiding him.” + </p> + <p> + “Why?” + </p> + <p> + “Oh, because.” + </p> + <p> + “Because you want to get him for Ellen?” + </p> + <p> + “Don’t be impudent,” said her father. “You do as your mother bids you.” + </p> + <p> + “Be agreeable to that old Breckon? I think I see myself! I’d sooner read! + I’m going to get a book now.” She left them as abruptly as she had come + upon them, and ran across to the bookcase, where she remained two stepping + and peering through the glass doors at the literature within, in + unaccustomed question concerning it. + </p> + <p> + “She’s a case,” said the judge, looking at her not only with relenting, + but with the pride in her sufficiency for all the exigencies of life which + he could not feel in Ellen. “She can take care of herself.” + </p> + <p> + “Oh yes,” Mrs. Kenton sadly assented, “I don’t think anybody will ever + make a fool of Lottie.” + </p> + <p> + “It’s a great deal more likely to be the other way,” her father suggested. + </p> + <p> + “I think Lottie is conscientious,” Mrs. Kenton protested. “She wouldn’t + really fool with a man.” + </p> + <p> + “No, she’s a good girl,” the judge owned. + </p> + <p> + “It’s girls like Ellen who make the trouble and the care. They are too + good, and you have to think some evil in this world. Well!” She rose and + gave her husband back his book. + </p> + <p> + “Do you know where Boyne is?” + </p> + <p> + “No. Do you want him to be pleasant to Mr. Breckon?” + </p> + <p> + “Somebody has got to. But it would be ridiculous if nobody but Boyne was.” + </p> + <p> + She did not find Boyne, after no very exhaustive search, and the boy was + left to form his bearing towards Breckon on the behavior of the rest of + his family. As this continued helplessly constrained both in his father + and mother, and voluntarily repellent in Lottie, Boyne decided upon a + blend of conduct which left Breckon in greater and greater doubt of his + wisdom in keeping on to Rotterdam. There was no good reason which he would + have been willing to give himself, from the beginning. It had been an + impulse, suddenly coming upon him in the baggage-room where he had gone to + get something out of his trunk, and where he had decided to have the label + of his baggage changed from the original destination at Boulogne to the + final port of the steamer’s arrival. When this was once done he was sorry, + but he was ashamed to have the label changed back. The most assignable + motive for his act was his reluctance to go on to Paris with the Rasmiths, + or rather with Mrs. Rasmith; for with her daughter, who was not a bad + fellow, one could always manage. He was quite aware of being safely in his + own hands against any design of Mrs. Rasmith’s, but her machinations + humiliated him for her; he hated to see her going through her manoeuvres, + and he could not help grieving for her failures, with a sort of impersonal + sympathy, all the more because he disliked her as little as he respected + her. + </p> + <p> + The motive which he did not assign to himself was that which probably + prevailed with him, though in the last analysis it was as selfish, no + doubt, as the one he acknowledged. Ellen Kenton still piqued his + curiosity, still touched his compassion. He had so far from exhausted his + wish or his power to befriend her, to help her, that he had still a wholly + unsatisfied longing to console her, especially when she drooped into that + listless attitude she was apt to take, with her face fallen and her hands + let lie, the back of one in the palm of the other, in her lap. It was + possibly the vision of this following him to the baggage-room, when he + went to open his trunk, that as much as anything decided him to have the + label changed on his baggage, but he did not own it then, and still less + did he own it now, when he found himself quite on his own hands for his + pains. + </p> + <p> + He felt that for some reason the Kentons were all avoiding him. Ellen, + indeed, did not take part, against him, unless negatively, for she had + appeared neither at lunch nor at dinner as the vessel kept on its way + after leaving Boulogne; and when he ventured to ask for her Mrs. Kenton + answered with embarrassment that she was not feeling very well. He asked + for her at lunch, but not at dinner, and when he had finished that meal he + went on the promenade-deck, and walked forlornly up and down, feeling that + he had been a fool. + </p> + <p> + Mrs. Kenton went below to her daughter’s room, and found Ellen there on + the sofa, with her book shut on her thumb at the place where the twilight + had failed her. + </p> + <p> + “Ellen, dear,” her mother said, “aren’t you feeling well?” + </p> + <p> + “Yes, I’m well enough,” said the girl, sensible of a leading in the + question. “Why?” + </p> + <p> + “Oh, nothing. Only—only I can’t make your father behave naturally + with Mr. Breckon. He’s got his mind so full of that mistake we both came + so near making that he can’t think of anything else. He’s so sheepish + about it that he can hardly speak to him or even look at him; and I must + confess that I don’t do much better. You know I don’t like to put myself + forward where your father is, and if I did, really I don’t believe I could + make up my mouth to say anything. I did want Lottie to be nice to him, but + Lottie dislikes him so! And even Boyne—well, it wouldn’t matter + about Boyne, if he didn’t seem to be carrying out a sort of family plan—Boyne + barely answers him when he speaks to him. I don’t know what he can think.” + Ellen was a good listener, and Mrs. Kenton, having begun, did not stop + till she had emptied the bag. “I just know that he didn’t get off at + Boulogne because he wanted to stay on with us, and thought he could be + useful to us at The Hague, and everywhere; and here we’re acting as + ungratefully! Why, we’re not even commonly polite to him, and I know he + feels it. I know that he’s hurt.” + </p> + <p> + Ellen rose and stood before the glass, into which he asked of her mother’s + reflected face, while she knotted a fallen coil of hair into its place, + “Where is he?” + </p> + <p> + “I don’t know. He went on deck somewhere.” + </p> + <p> + Ellen put on her hat and pinned it, and put on her jacket and buttoned it. + Then she started towards the door. Her mother made way for her, faltering, + “What are you going to do, Ellen?” + </p> + <p> + “I am going to do right.” + </p> + <p> + “Don’t-catch cold!” her mother called after her figure vanishing down the + corridor, but the warning couched in these terms had really no reference + to the weather. + </p> + <p> + The girl’s impulse was one of those effects of the weak will in her which + were apt to leave her short of the fulfilment of a purpose. It carried her + as her as the promenade, which she found empty, and she went and leaned + upon the rail, and looked out over the sorrowful North Sea, which was + washing darkly away towards where the gloomy sunset had been. + </p> + <p> + Steps from the other side of the ship approached, hesitated towards her, + and then arrested themselves. She looked round. + </p> + <p> + “Why, Miss Kenton!” said Breckon, stupidly. + </p> + <p> + “The sunset is over, isn’t it?” she answered. + </p> + <p> + “The twilight isn’t.” Breckon stopped; then he asked, “Wouldn’t you like + to take a little walk?” + </p> + <p> + “Yes,” she answered, and smiled fully upon him. He had never known before + how radiant a smile she lead. + </p> + <p> + “Better have my arm. It’s getting rather dark.” + </p> + <p> + “Well.” She put her hand on his arm and he felt it tremble there, while + she palpitated, “We are all so glad you could go on to Rotterdam. My + mother wanted me to tell you.” + </p> + <p> + “Oh, don’t speak of that,” said Breckon, not very appositely. Presently he + forced a laugh, in order to add, with lightness, “I was afraid perhaps I + had given you all some reason to regret it!” + </p> + <p> + She said, “I was afraid you would think that—or momma was—and + I couldn’t bear to have you.” + </p> + <p> + “Well, then, I won’t.” + </p> + <p> + <a name="link2H_4_0019" id="link2H_4_0019"> + <!-- H2 anchor --> </a> + </p> + <div style="height: 4em;"> + <br /><br /><br /><br /> + </div> + <h2> + XIX. + </h2> + <p> + Breckon had answered with gayety, but his happiness was something beyond + gayety. He had really felt the exclusion from the Kentons in which he had + passed the day, and he had felt it the more painfully because he liked + them all. It may be owned that he liked Ellen best from the beginning, and + now he liked her better than ever, but even in the day’s exile he had not + ceased to like each of them. They were, in their family affection, as + lovable as that sort of selfishness can make people. They were very united + and good to one another. Lottie herself, except in her most lurid moments, + was good to her brother and sister, and almost invariably kind to her + parents. She would not, Breckon saw, have brooked much meddling with her + flirtations from them, but as they did not offer to meddle, she had no + occasion to grumble on that score. She grumbled when they asked her to do + things for Ellen, but she did them, and though she never did them without + grumbling, she sometimes did them without being asked. She was really very + watchful of Ellen when it would least have been expected, and sometimes + she was sweet. She never was sweet with Boyne, but she was often his + friend, though this did not keep her from turning upon him at the first + chance to give him a little dig, or a large one, for that matter. As for + Boyne, he was a mass of helpless sweetness, though he did not know it, and + sometimes took himself for an iceberg when he was merely an ice-cream of + heroic mould. He was as helplessly sweet with Lottie as with any one, and + if he suffered keenly from her treacheries, and seized every occasion to + repay them in kind, it was clearly a matter of conscience with him, and + always for the good. Their father and mother treated their squabbles very + wisely, Breckon thought. They ignored them as much as possible, and they + recognized them without attempting to do that justice between them which + would have rankled in both their breasts. + </p> + <p> + To a spectator who had been critical at first, Mr. and Mrs. Kenton seemed + an exemplary father and mother with Ellen as well as with their other + children. It is easy to be exemplary with a sick girl, but they + increasingly affected Breckon as exemplary with Ellen. He fancied that + they acted upon each other beneficially towards her. At first he had + foreboded some tiresome boasting from the father’s tenderness, and some + weak indulgence of the daughter’s whims from her mother; but there was + either never any ground for this, or else Mrs. Kenton, in keeping her + husband from boasting, had been obliged in mere consistency to set a guard + upon her own fondness. + </p> + <p> + It was not that. Ellen, he was more and more decided, would have abused + the weakness of either; if there was anything more angelic than her + patience, it was her wish to be a comfort to them, and, between the + caprices of her invalidism, to be a service. It was pathetic to see her + remembering to do things for them which Boyne and Lottie had forgotten, or + plainly shirked doing, and to keep the fact out of sight. She really kept + it out of sight with them, and if she did not hide it from so close an + observer as Breckon, that was more his fault than hers. When her father + first launched out in her praise, or the praise of her reading, the young + man had dreaded a rustic prig; yet she had never been a prig, but simply + glad of what book she had known, and meekly submissive to his knowledge if + not his taste. He owned that she had a right to her taste, which he found + almost always good, and accounted for as instinctive in the absence of an + imaginable culture in her imaginable ambient. So far as he had glimpses of + this, he found it so different from anything he had known that the modest + adequacy of Mrs. Kenton in the political experiences of modern Europe, as + well as the clear judgments of Kenton himself in matters sometimes beyond + Breekon himself, mystified him no less than Ellen’s taste. + </p> + <p> + Even with the growth of his respect for their intelligence and his love of + their kindliness, he had not been able to keep a certain patronage from + mingling, and it was not till they evinced not only entire ability, but an + apparent wish to get on without his approval, without his acquaintance + even, that he had conceived a just sense of them. The like is apt to + happen with the best of us, when we are also the finest, and Breckon was + not singular in coming to a due consciousness of something valuable only + in the hour of its loss. He did not know that the loss was only apparent. + He knew that he had made a distinct sacrifice for these people, and that, + when he had prepared himself to befriend them little short of + self-devotion, they showed themselves indifferent, and almost repellent. + In the revulsion of feeling, when Ellen gave him her mother’s message, and + frankly offered him reparation on behalf of her whole family, he may have + overdone his gratitude, but he did not overdo it to her perception. They + walked up and down the promenade of the Amstel, in the watery North Sea + moon, while bells after bells noted the hour unheeded, and when they + parted for the night it was with an involuntary pressure of hands, from + which she suddenly pulled hers, and ran down the corridor of her + state-room and Lottie’s. + </p> + <p> + He stood watching the narrow space in which she had vanished, and thinking + how gentle she was, and how she had contrived somehow to make him feel + that now it was she who had been consoling him, and trying to interest him + and amuse him. He had not realized that before; he had been used to + interesting and amusing her, but he could not resent it; he could not + resent the implication of superiority, if such a thing were possible, + which her kindness conveyed. The question with Breckon was whether she had + walked with him so long because she wished, in the hour, to make up as + fully as possible for the day’s neglect, or because she had liked to walk + up and down with him. It was a question he found keeping itself + poignantly, yet pleasantly, in his mind, after he had got into his berth + under the solidly slumberous Boyne, and inclining now to one solution and + now to the other, with a delicate oscillation that was charming. + </p> + <p> + The Amstel took her time to get into Rotterdam, and when her passengers + had gone ashore the next forenoon the train that carried Breckon to The + Hague in the same compartment with the Kentons was in no greater hurry. It + arrived with a deliberation which kept it from carrying them on to + Amsterdam before they knew it, and Mrs. Kenton had time to place such + parts of the wars in the Rise of the Dutch Republic as she could attach to + the names of the stations and the general features of the landscape. Boyne + was occupied with improvements for the windmills and the canal-boats, + which did not seem to him of the quality of the Michigan aerometers, or + the craft with which he was familiar on the Hudson River and on the canal + that passed through Tuskingum. Lottie, with respect to the canals, offered + the frank observation that they smelt, and in recognizing a fact which + travel almost universally ignores in Holland, she watched her chance of + popping up the window between herself and Boyne, which Boyne put down with + mounting rage. The agriculture which triumphed everywhere on the little + half—acre plots lifted fifteen inches above the waters of the + environing ditches, and the black and white cattle everywhere attesting + the immemorial Dutch ideal of a cow, were what at first occupied Kenton, + and he was tardily won from them to the question of fighting over a + country like that. It was a concession to his wife’s impassioned interest + in the overthrow of the Spaniards in a landscape which had evidently not + changed since. She said it was hard to realize that Holland was not still + a republic, and she was not very patient with Breckon’s defence of the + monarchy on the ground that the young Queen was a very pretty girl. + </p> + <p> + “And she is only sixteen,” Boyne urged. + </p> + <p> + “Then she is two years too old for you,” said Lottie. + </p> + <p> + “No such thing!” Boyne retorted. “I was fifteen in June.” + </p> + <p> + “Dear me! I should never have thought it,” said his sister. + </p> + <p> + Ellen seemed hardly to look out of the window at anything directly, but + when her father bade her see this thing and that, it seemed that she had + seen it already. She said at last, with a quiet sigh, “I never want to go + away.” + </p> + <p> + She had been a little shy of Breckon the whole morning, and had kept him + asking himself whether she was sorry she had walked so long with him the + night before, or, having offered him due reparation for her family, she + was again dropping him. Now and then he put her to the test by words + explicitly directed at her, and she replied with the dreamy passivity + which seemed her normal mood, and in which he could fancy himself half + forgotten, or remembered with an effort. + </p> + <p> + In the midst of this doubt she surprised him—he reflected that she + was always surprising him—by asking him how far it was from The + Hague to the sea. He explained that The Hague was in the sea like all the + rest of Holland, but that if she meant the shore, it was no distance at + all. Then she said, vaguely, she wished they were going to the shore. Her + father asked Breckon if there was not a hotel at the beach, and the young + man tried to give him a notion of the splendors of the Kurhaus at + Scheveningen; of Scheveningen itself he despaired of giving any just + notion. + </p> + <p> + “Then we can go there,” said the judge, ignoring Ellen, in his decision, + as if she had nothing to do with it. + </p> + <p> + Lottie interposed a vivid preference for The Hague. She had, she said, had + enough of the sea for one while, and did not want to look at it again till + they sailed for home. Boyne turned to his father as if a good deal shaken + by this reasoning, and it was Mrs. Kenton who carried the day for going + first to a hotel in The Hague and prospecting from there in the direction + of Scheveningen; Boyne and his father could go down to the shore and see + which they liked best. + </p> + <p> + “I don’t see what that has to do with me,” said Lottie. No one was alarmed + by her announcement that if she did not like Scheveningen she should stay + at The Hague, whatever the rest did; in the event fortune favored her + going with her family. + </p> + <p> + The hotel in The Hague was very pleasant, with a garden behind it, where a + companionable cat had found a dry spot, and where Lottie found the cat and + made friends with it. But she said the hotel was full of Cook’s tourists, + whom she recognized, in spite of her lifelong ignorance of them, by a + prescience derived from the conversation of Mr. Pogis, and from the + instinct of a society woman, already rife in her. She found that she could + not stay in a hotel with Cook’s tourists, and she took her father’s place + in the exploring party which went down to the watering-place in the + afternoon, on the top of a tram-car, under the leafy roof of the adorable + avenue of trees which embowers the track to Scheveningen. She disputed + Boyne’s impressions of the Dutch people, whom he found looking more like + Americans than any foreigners he had seen, and she snubbed Breckon from + his supposed charge of the party. But after the start, when she declared + that Ellen could not go, and that it was ridiculous for her to think of + it, she was very good to her, and looked after her safety and comfort with + a despotic devotion. + </p> + <p> + At the Kurhaus she promptly took the lead in choosing rooms, for she had + no doubt of staying there after the first glance at the place, and she + showed a practical sense in settling her family which at least her mother + appreciated when they were installed the next day. + </p> + <p> + Mrs. Kenton could not make her husband admire Lottie’s faculty so readily. + “You think it would have been better for her to sit down with Ellen, on + the sand and dream of the sea,” she reproached him, with a tender + resentment on behalf of Lottie. “Everybody can’t dream.” + </p> + <p> + “Yes, but I wish she didn’t keep awake with such a din,” said the judge. + After all, he admired Lottie’s judgment about the rooms, and he censured + her with a sigh of relief from care as he sank back in the easy-chair + fronting the window that looked out on the North Sea; Lottie had already + made him appreciate the view till he was almost sick of it. + </p> + <p> + “What is the matter?” said Mrs. Kenton, sharply. “Do you want to be in + Tuskingum? I suppose you would rather be looking into Richard’s + back-yard.” + </p> + <p> + “No,” said the judge, mildly, “this is very nice.” + </p> + <p> + “It will do Ellen good, every minute. I don’t care how much she sits on + the sands and dream. I’ll love to see her.” + </p> + <p> + The sitting on the sand was a survival of Mr. Kenton’s preoccupations of + the sea-side. As a mater of fact, Ellen was at that moment sitting in one + of the hooked wicker arm-chairs which were scattered over the whole vast + beach like a growth of monstrous mushrooms, and, confronting her in cosey + proximity, Breckon sat equally hidden in another windstuhl. Her father and + her mother were able to keep them placed, among the multitude of + windstuhls, by the presence of Lottie, who hovered near them, and, with + Boyne, fended off the demure, wicked-looking little Scheveningen girls. On + a smaller scale these were exactly like their demure, wicked-looking + Scheveningen mothers, and they approached with knitting in their hands, + and with large stones folded in their aprons, which they had pilfered from + the mole, and were trying to sell for footstools. The windstuhl men and + they were enemies, and when Breckon bribed them to go away, the windstuhl + men chased them, and the little girls ran, making mouths at Boyne over + their shoulders. He scorned to notice them; but he was obliged to report + the misconduct of Lottie, who began making eyes at the Dutch officers as + soon as she could feel that Ellen was safely off her hands. She was the + more exasperating and the more culpable to Boyne, because she had asked + him to walk up the beach with her, and had then made the fraternal + promenade a basis of operations against the Dutch military. She joined her + parents in ignoring Boyne’s complaints, and continued to take credit for + all the pleasant facts of the situation; she patronized her family as much + for the table d’hote at luncheon as for the comfort of their rooms. She + was able to assure them that there was not a Cook’s tourist in the hotel, + where there seemed to be nearly every other kind of fellow-creature. At + the end of the first week she had acquaintance of as many nationalities as + she could reach in their native or acquired English, in all the stages of + haughty toleration, vivid intimacy, and cold exhaustion. She had a faculty + for getting through with people, or of ceasing to have any use for them, + which was perhaps her best safeguard in her adventurous flirting; while + the simple aliens were still in the full tide of fancied success, Lottie + was sick of them all, and deep in an indiscriminate correspondence with + her young men in Tuskingum. + </p> + <p> + The letters which she had invited from these while still in New York + arrived with the first of those readdressed from the judge’s London + banker. She had more letters than all the rest of the family together, and + counted a half-dozen against a poor two for her sister. Mrs. Kenton cared + nothing about Lottie’s letters, but she was silently uneasy about the two + that Ellen carelessly took. She wondered who could be writing to Ellen, + especially in a cover bearing a handwriting altogether strange to her. + </p> + <p> + “It isn’t from Bittridge, at any rate,” she said to her husband, in the + speculation which she made him share. “I am always dreading to have her + find out what Richard did. It would spoil everything, I’m afraid, and now + everything is going so well. I do wish Richard hadn’t, though, of course, + he did it for the best. Who do you think has been writing to her?” + </p> + <p> + “Why don’t you ask her?” + </p> + <p> + “I suppose she will tell me after a while. I don’t like to seem to be + following her up. One was from Bessie Pearl, I think.” + </p> + <p> + Ellen did not speak of her letters to her mother, and after waiting a day + or two, Mrs. Kenton could not refrain from asking her. + </p> + <p> + “Oh, I forgot,” said Ellen. “I haven’t read them yet.” + </p> + <p> + “Haven’t read them!” said Mrs. Kenton. Then, after reflection, she added, + “You are a strange girl, Ellen,” and did not venture to say more. + </p> + <p> + “I suppose I thought I should have to answer them, and that made me + careless. But I will read them.” Her mother was silent, and presently + Ellen added: “I hate to think of the past. Don’t you, momma?” + </p> + <p> + “It is certainly very pleasant here,” said Mrs. Kenton, cautiously. + “You’re enjoying yourself—I mean, you seem to be getting so much + stronger.” + </p> + <p> + “Why, momma, why do you talk as if I had been sick?” Ellen asked. + </p> + <p> + “I mean you’re so much interested.” + </p> + <p> + “Don’t I go about everywhere, like anybody?” Ellen pursued, ignoring her + explanation. + </p> + <p> + “Yes, you certainly do. Mr. Breckon seems to like going about.” + </p> + <p> + Ellen did not respond to the suggestion except to say: “We go into all + sorts of places. This morning we went up on that schooner that’s drawn up + on the beach, and the old man who was there was very pleasant. I thought + it was a wreck, but Mr. Breckon says they are always drawing their ships + that way up on the sand. The old man was patching some of the wood-work, + and he told Mr. Breckon—he can speak a little Dutch—that they + were going to drag her down to the water and go fishing as soon as he was + done. He seemed to think we were brother and sister.” She flushed a + little, and then she said: “I believe I like the dunes as well as + anything. Sometimes when those curious cold breaths come in from the sea + we climb up in the little hollows on the other side and sit there out of + the draft. Everybody seems to do it.” + </p> + <p> + Apparently Ellen was submitting the propriety of the fact to her mother, + who said: “Yes, it seems to be quite the same as it is at home. I always + supposed that it was different with young people here. There is certainly + no harm in it.” + </p> + <p> + Ellen went on, irrelevantly. “I like to go and look at the Scheveningen + women mending the nets on the sand back of the dunes. They have such good + gossiping times. They shouted to us last evening, and then laughed when + they saw us watching them. When they got through their work they got up + and stamped off so strong, with their bare, red arms folded into their + aprons, and their skirts sticking out so stiff. Yes, I should like to be + like them.” + </p> + <p> + “You, Ellen!” + </p> + <p> + “Yes; why not?” + </p> + <p> + Mrs. Kenton found nothing better to answer than, + </p> + <p> + “They were very material looking.” + </p> + <p> + “They are very happy looking. They live in the present. That is what I + should like: living in the present, and not looking backwards or forwards. + After all, the present is the only life we’ve got, isn’t it?” + </p> + <p> + “I suppose you may say it is,” Mrs. Kenton admitted, not knowing just + where the talk was leading, but dreading to interrupt it. + </p> + <p> + “But that isn’t the Scheveningen woman’s only ideal. Their other ideal is + to keep the place clean. Saturday afternoon they were all out scrubbing + the brick sidewalks, and clear into the middle of the street. We were + almost ashamed to walk over the nice bricks, and we picked out as many + dirty places as we could find.” + </p> + <p> + Ellen laughed, with a light-hearted gayety that was very strange to her, + and Mrs. Kenton, as she afterwards told her husband, did not know what to + think. + </p> + <p> + “I couldn’t help wondering,” she said, “whether the poor child would have + liked to keep on living in the present a month ago.” + </p> + <p> + “Well, I’m glad you didn’t say so,” the judge answered. + </p> + <p> + <a name="link2H_4_0020" id="link2H_4_0020"> + <!-- H2 anchor --> </a> + </p> + <div style="height: 4em;"> + <br /><br /><br /><br /> + </div> + <h2> + XX. + </h2> + <p> + From the easy conquest of the men who looked at her Lottie proceeded to + the subjection of the women. It would have been more difficult to put + these down, if the process had not been so largely, so almost entirely + subjective. As it was, Lottie exchanged snubs with many ladies of the + continental nationalities who were never aware of having offered or + received offence. In some cases, when they fearlessly ventured to speak + with her, they behaved very amiable, and seemed to find her conduct + sufficiently gracious in return. In fact, she was approachable enough, and + had no shame, before Boyne, in dismounting from the high horse which she + rode when alone with him, and meeting these ladies on foot, at least + half-way. She made several of them acquainted with her mother, who, after + a timorous reticence, found them very conversable, with a range of topics, + however, that shocked her American sense of decorum. One Dutch lady talked + with such manly freedom, and with such untrammelled intimacy, that she was + obliged to send Boyne and Lottie about their business, upon an excuse that + was not apparent to the Dutch lady. She only complimented Mrs. Kenton upon + her children and their devotion to each other, and when she learned that + Ellen was also her daughter, ventured the surmise she was not long + married. + </p> + <p> + “It isn’t her husband,” Mrs. Kenton explained, with inward trouble. “It’s + just a gentleman that came over with us,” and she went with her trouble to + her own husband as soon as she could. + </p> + <p> + “I’m afraid it isn’t the custom to go around alone with young men as much + as Ellen thinks,” she suggested. + </p> + <p> + “He ought to know,” said the judge. “I don’t suppose he would if it + wasn’t.” + </p> + <p> + “That is true,” Mrs. Kenton owned, and for the time she put her misgivings + away. + </p> + <p> + “So long as we do nothing wrong,” the judge decided, “I don’t see why we + should not keep to our own customs.” + </p> + <p> + “Lottie says they’re not ours, in New York.” + </p> + <p> + “Well, we are not in New York now.” + </p> + <p> + They had neither of them the heart to interfere with Ellen’s happiness, + for, after all, Breckon was careful enough of the appearances, and it was + only his being constantly with Ellen that suggested the Dutch lady’s + surmise. In fact, the range of their wanderings was not beyond the dunes, + though once they went a little way on one of the neatly bricked country + roads that led towards The Hague. As yet there had been no movement in any + of the party to see the places that lie within such easy tram-reach of The + Hague, and the hoarded interest of the past in their keeping. Ellen chose + to dwell in the actualities which were an enlargement of her own present, + and Lottie’s active spirit found employment enough in the amusements at + the Kurhaus. She shopped in the little bazars which make a Saratoga under + the colonnades fronting two sides of the great space before the hotel, and + she formed a critical and exacting taste in music from a constant + attendance at the afternoon concerts; it is true that during the winter in + New York she had cast forever behind her the unsophisticated ideals of + Tuskingum in the art, so that from the first she was able to hold the + famous orchestra that played in the Kurhaus concert-room up to the highest + standard. She had no use for anybody who had any use for rag-time, and she + was terribly severe with a young American, primarily of Boyne’s + acquaintance, who tried to make favor with her by asking about the latest + coon-songs. She took the highest ethical ground with him about tickets in + a charitable lottery which he had bought from the portier, but could not + move him on the lower level which he occupied. He offered to give her the + picture which was the chief prize, in case he won it, and she assured him + beforehand that she should not take it. She warned Boyne against him, + under threats of exposure to their mother, as not a good influence, but + one afternoon, when the young Queen of Holland came to the concert with + the queen-mother, Lottie cast her prejudices to the winds in accepting the + places which the wicked fellow-countryman offered Boyne and herself, when + they had failed to get any where they could see the queens, as the Dutch + called them. + </p> + <p> + The hotel was draped with flags, and banked with flowers about the main + entrance where the queens were to arrive, and the guests massed themselves + in a dense lane for them to pass through. Lottie could not fail to be one + of the foremost in this array, and she was able to decide, when the queens + had passed, that the younger would not be considered a more than average + pretty girl in America, and that she was not very well dressed. They had + all stood within five feet of her, and Boyne had appropriated one of the + prettiest of the pretty bends which the gracious young creature made to + right and left, and had responded to it with an ‘empressement’ which he + hoped had not been a sacrifice of his republican principles. + </p> + <p> + During the concert he sat with his eyes fixed upon the Queen where she sat + in the royal box, with her mother and her ladies behind her, and wondered + and blushed to wonder if she had noticed him when he bowed, or if his + chivalric devotion in applauding her when the audience rose to receive her + had been more apparent than that of others; whether it had seemed the + heroic act of setting forth at the head of her armies, to beat back a + German invasion, which it had essentially been, with his instantaneous + return as victor, and the Queen’s abdication and adoption of republican + principles under conviction of his reasoning, and her idolized + consecration as the first chief of the Dutch republic. His cheeks glowed, + and he quaked at heart lest Lottie should surprise his thoughts and expose + them to that sarcastic acquaintance, who proved to be a medical student + resting at Scheveningen from the winter’s courses and clinics in, Vienna. + He had already got on to many of Boyne’s curves, and had sacrilegiously + suggested the Queen of Holland when he found him feeding his fancy on the + modern heroical romances; he advised him as an American adventurer to + compete with the European princes paying court to her. So thin a barrier + divided that malign intelligence from Boyne’s most secret dreams that he + could never feel quite safe from him, and yet he was always finding + himself with him, now that he was separated from Miss Rasmith, and Mr. + Breckon was taken up so much with Ellen. On the ship he could put many + things before Mr. Breckon which must here perish in his breast, or suffer + the blight of this Mr. Trannel’s raillery. The student sat near the + Kentons at table, and he was no more reverent of the judge’s modest + convictions than of Boyne’s fantastic preoccupations. The worst of him was + that you could not help liking him: he had a fascination which the boy + felt while he dreaded him, and now and then he did something so pleasant + that when he said something unpleasant you could hardly believe it. + </p> + <p> + At the end of the concert, when he rose and stood with all the rest, while + the royal party left their box, and the orchestra played the Dutch + national hymn, he said, in a loud whisper, to Boyne: “Now’s your time, my + boy! Hurry out and hand her into her carriage!” + </p> + <p> + Boyne fairly reeled at the words which translated a passage of the wild + drama playing itself in his brain, and found little support in bidding his + tormentor, “Shut up!” The retort, rude as it was, seemed insufficient, but + Boyne tried in vain to think of something else. He tried to punish him by + separating Lottie from him, but failed as signally in that. She went off + with him, and sat in a windstuhl facing his the rest of the afternoon, + with every effect of carrying on. + </p> + <p> + Boyne was helpless, with his mother against it, when he appealed to her to + let him go and tell Lottie that she wanted her. Mrs. Kenton said that she + saw no harm in it, that Ellen was sitting in like manner with Mr. Breckon. + </p> + <p> + “Mr. Breckon is very different, and Ellen knows how to behave,” he urged, + but his mother remained unmoved, or was too absent about something to take + any interest in the matter. In fact, she was again unhappy about Ellen, + though she put on such an air of being easy about her. Clearly, so far as + her maternal surmise could fathom the case, Mr. Breckon was more and more + interested in Ellen, and it was evident that the child was interested in + him. The situation was everything that was acceptable to Mrs. Kenton, but + she shuddered at the cloud which hung over it, and which might any moment + involve it. Again and again she had made sure that Lottie had given Ellen + no hint of Richard’s ill-advised vengeance upon Bittridge; but it was not + a thing that could be kept always, and the question was whether it could + be kept till Ellen had accepted Mr. Breckon and married him. This was + beyond the question of his asking her to do so, but it was so much more + important that Mrs. Kenton was giving it her attention first, quite out of + the order of time. Besides, she had every reason, as she felt, to count + upon the event. Unless he was trifling with Ellen, far more wickedly than + Bittridge, he was in love with her, and in Mrs. Kenton’s simple experience + and philosophy of life, being in love was briefly preliminary to marrying. + If she went with her anxieties to her husband, she had first to reduce him + from a buoyant optimism concerning the affair before she could get him to + listen seriously. When this was accomplished he fell into such despair + that she ended in lifting him up and supporting him with hopes that she + did not feel herself. What they were both united in was the conviction + that nothing so good could happen in the world, but they were equally + united in the old American tradition that they must not lift a finger to + secure this supreme good for their child. + </p> + <p> + It did not seem to them that leaving the young people constantly to + themselves was doing this. They interfered with Ellen now neither more nor + less than they had interfered with her as to Bittridge, or than they would + have interfered with her in the case of any one else. She was still to be + left entirely to herself in such matters, and Mrs. Kenton would have kept + even her thoughts off her if she could. She would have been very glad to + give her mind wholly to the study of the great events which had long + interested her here in their scene, but she felt that until the conquest + of Mr. Breckon was secured beyond the hazard of Ellen’s morbid defection + at the supreme moment, she could not give her mind to the history of the + Dutch republic. + </p> + <p> + “Don’t bother me about Lottie, Boyne,” she said. “I have enough to think + of without your nonsense. If this Mr. Trannel is an American, that is all + that is necessary. We are all Americans together, and I don’t believe it + will make remark, Lottie’s sitting on the beach with him.” + </p> + <p> + “I don’t see how he’s different from that Bittridge,” said Boyne. “He + doesn’t care for anything; and he plays the banjo just like him.” + </p> + <p> + Mrs. Kenton was too troubled to laugh. She said, with finality, “Lottie + can take care of herself,” and then she asked, “Boyne, do you know whom + Ellen’s letters were from?” + </p> + <p> + “One was from Bessie Pearl—” + </p> + <p> + “Yes, she showed me that. But you don’t know who the other was from?” + </p> + <p> + “No; she didn’t tell me. You know how close Ellen is.” + </p> + <p> + “Yes,” the mother sighed, “she is very odd.” + </p> + <p> + Then she added, “Don’t you let her know that I asked you about her + letters.” + </p> + <p> + “No,” said Boyne. His audience was apparently at an end, but he seemed + still to have something on his mind. “Momma,” he began afresh. + </p> + <p> + “Well?” she answered, a little impatiently. + </p> + <p> + “Nothing. Only I got to thinking, Is a person able to control their—their + fancies?” + </p> + <p> + “Fancies about what?” + </p> + <p> + “Oh, I don’t know. About falling in love.” Boyne blushed. + </p> + <p> + “Why do you want to know? You musn’t think about such things, a boy like + you! It’s a great pity that you ever knew anything about that Bittridge + business. It’s made you too bold. But it seems to have been meant to drag + us down and humiliate us in every way.” + </p> + <p> + “Well, I didn’t try to know anything about it,” Boyne retorted. + </p> + <p> + “No, that’s true,” his mother did him the justice to recognize. “Well, + what is it you want to know?” Boyne was too hurt to answer at once, and + his mother had to coax him a little. She did it sweetly, and apologized to + him for saying what she had said. After all, he was the youngest, and her + baby still. Her words and caresses took effect at last, and he stammered + out, “Is everybody so, or is it only the Kentons that seem to be always + putting—well, their affections—where it’s perfectly useless?” + </p> + <p> + His mother pushed him from her. “Boyne, are you silly about that + ridiculous old Miss Rasmith?” + </p> + <p> + “No!” Boyne shouted, savagely, “I’m NOT!” + </p> + <p> + “Who is it, then?” + </p> + <p> + “I sha’n’t tell you!” Boyne said, and tears of rage and shame came into + his eyes. + </p> + <p> + <a name="link2H_4_0021" id="link2H_4_0021"> + <!-- H2 anchor --> </a> + </p> + <div style="height: 4em;"> + <br /><br /><br /><br /> + </div> + <h2> + XXI. + </h2> + <p> + In his exile from his kindred, for it came practically to that, Boyne was + able to add a fine gloom to the state which he commonly observed with + himself when he was not giving way to his morbid fancies or his morbid + fears, and breaking down in helpless subjection to the nearest member of + his household. Lottie was so taken up with her student that she scarcely + quarrelled with him any more, and they had no longer those moments of + union in which they stood together against the world. His mother had cast + him off, as he felt, very heartlessly, though it was really because she + could not give his absurdities due thought in view of the hopeful + seriousness of Ellen’s affair, and Boyne was aware that his father at the + best of times was ignorant of him when he was not impatient of him. These + were not the best of times with Judge Kenton, and Boyne was not the first + object of his impatience. In the last analysis he was living until he + could get home, and so largely in the hope of this that his wife at times + could scarcely keep him from taking some step that would decide the matter + between Ellen and Breckon at once. They were tacitly agreed that they were + waiting for nothing else, and, without making their agreement explicit, + she was able to quell him by asking what he expected to do in case there + was nothing between them? Was he going to take the child back to + Tuskingum, which was the same as taking her back to Bittridge? it hurt her + to confront him with this question, and she tried other devices for + staying and appeasing him. She begged him now, seeing Boyne so forlorn, + and hanging about the hotel alone, or moping over those ridiculous books + of his, to go off with the boy somewhere and see the interesting places + within such easy reach, like Leyden and Delft if he cared nothing for the + place where William the Silent was shot, he ought to see the place that + the Pilgrims started from. She had counted upon doing those places + herself, with her husband, and it was in a sacrifice of her ideal that she + now urged him to go with Boyne. But her preoccupation with Ellen’s affair + forbade her self-abandon to those high historical interests to which she + urged his devotion. She might have gone with him and Boyne, but then she + must have left the larger half of her divided mind with Ellen, not to + speak of Lottie, who refused to be a party to any such excursion. Mrs. + Kenton felt the disappointment and grieved at it, but not without hope of + repairing it later, and she did not cease from entreating the judge to do + what he could at once towards fulfilling the desires she postponed. Once + she prevailed with him, and really got him and Boyne off for a day, but + they came back early, with signs of having bored each other intolerably, + and after that it was Boyne, as much as his father, who relucted from + joint expeditions. Boyne did not so much object to going alone, and his + father said it was best to let him, though his mother had her fears for + her youngest. He spent a good deal of his time on the trams between + Scheveningen and The Hague, and he was understood to have explored the + capital pretty thoroughly. In fact, he did go about with a valet de place, + whom he got at a cheap rate, and with whom he conversed upon the state of + the country and its political affairs. The valet said that the only enemy + that Holland could fear was Germany, but an invasion from that quarter + could be easily repulsed by cutting the dikes and drowning the invaders. + The sea, he taught Boyne, was the great defence of Holland, and it was a + waste of money to keep such an army as the Dutch had; but neither the sea + nor the sword could drive out the Germans if once they insidiously married + a Prussian prince to the Dutch Queen. + </p> + <p> + There seemed to be no getting away from the Queen, for Boyne. The valet + not only talked about her, as the pleasantest subject which he could find, + but he insisted upon showing Boyne all her palaces. He took him into the + Parliament house, and showed him where she sat while the queen-mother read + the address from the throne. He introduced him at a bazar where the + shop-girl who spoke English better than Boyne, or at least without the + central Ohio accent, wanted to sell him a miniature of the Queen on + porcelain. She said the Queen was such a nice girl, and she was herself + such a nice girl that Boyne blushed a little in looking at her. He bought + the miniature, and then he did not know what to do with it; if any of the + family, if Lottie, found out that he had it, or that Trannel, he should + have no peace any more. He put it in his pocket, provisionally, and when + he came giddily out of the shop he felt himself taken by the elbow and + placed against the wall by the valet, who said the queens were coming. + They drove down slowly through the crowded, narrow street, bowing right + and left to the people flattened against the shops, and again Boyne saw + her so near that he could have reached out his hand and almost touched + hers. + </p> + <p> + The consciousness of this was so strong in him that he wondered whether he + had not tried to do so. If he had he would have been arrested—he + knew that; and so he knew that he had not done it. He knew that he + imagined doing so because it would be so awful to have done it, and he + imagined being in love with her because it would be so frantic. At the + same time he dramatized an event in which he died for her, and she became + aware of his hopeless passion at the last moment, while the anarchist from + whom he had saved her confessed that the bomb had been meant for her. + Perhaps it was a pistol. + </p> + <p> + He escaped from the valet as soon as he could, and went back to + Scheveningen limp from this experience, but the queens were before him. + They had driven down to visit the studio of a famous Dutch painter there, + and again the doom was on Boyne to press forward with the other spectators + and wait for the queens to appear and get into their carriage. The young + Queen’s looks were stamped in Boyne’s consciousness, so that he saw her + wherever he turned, like the sun when one has gazed at it. He thought how + that Trannel had said he ought to hand her into her carriage, and he + shrank away for fear he should try to do so, but he could not leave the + place till she had come out with the queen—mother and driven off. + Then he went slowly and breathlessly into the hotel, feeling the Queen’s + miniature in his pocket. It made his heart stand still, and then bound + forward. He wondered again what he should do with it. If he kept it, + Lottie would be sure to find it, and he could not bring himself to the + sacrilege of destroying it. He thought he would walk out on the breakwater + as far as he could and throw it into the sea, but when he got to the end + of the mole he could not do so. He decided that he would give it to Ellen + to keep for him, and not let Lottie see it; or perhaps he might pretend he + had bought it for her. He could not do that, though, for it would not be + true, and if he did he could not ask her to keep it from Lottie. + </p> + <p> + At dinner Mr. Trannel told him he ought to have been there to see the + Queen; that she had asked especially for him, and wanted to know if they + had not sent up her card to him. Boyne meditated an apt answer through all + the courses, but he had not thought of one when they had come to the + ‘corbeille de fruits’, and he was forced to go to bed without having + avenged himself. + </p> + <p> + In taking rooms for her family at the hotel, Lottie had arranged for her + emancipation from the thraldom of rooming with Ellen. She said that had + gone on long enough; if she was grown up at all, she was grown up enough + to have a room of her own, and her mother had yielded to reasoning which + began and ended with this position. She would have interfered so far as to + put Lottie into the room next her, but Lottie said that if Boyne was the + baby he ought to be next his mother; Ellen might come next him, but she + was going to have the room that was furthest from any implication of the + dependence in which she had languished; and her mother submitted again. + Boyne was not sorry; there had always been hours of the night when he felt + the need of getting at his mother for reassurance as to forebodings which + his fancy conjured up to trouble him in the wakeful dark. It was + understood that he might freely do this, and though the judge inwardly + fretted, he could not deny the boy the comfort of his mother’s encouraging + love. Boyne’s visits woke him, but he slept the better for indulging in + the young nerves that tremor from impressions against which the old nerves + are proof. But now, in the strange fatality which seemed to involve him, + Boyne could not go to his mother. It was too weirdly intimate, even for + her; besides, when he had already tried to seek her counsel she had + ignorantly repelled him. + </p> + <p> + The night after his day in The Hague, when he could bear it no longer, he + put on his dressing-gown and softly opened Ellen’s door, “awake, Ellen?” + he whispered. + </p> + <p> + “Yes, What is it, Boyne” her gentle voice asked. + </p> + <p> + “He came and sat down by her bed and stole his hand into hers, which she + put out to him. The watery moonlight dripped into the room at the edges of + the shades, and the long wash of the sea made itself regularly heard on + the sands. + </p> + <p> + “Can’t you sleep?” Ellen asked again. “Are you homesick?” + </p> + <p> + “Not exactly that. But it does seem rather strange for us to be off here + so far, doesn’t it?” + </p> + <p> + “Yes, I don’t see how I can forgive myself for making you come,” said + Ellen, but her voice did not sound as if she were very unhappy. + </p> + <p> + “You couldn’t help it,” said Boyne, and the words suggested a question to + him. “Do you believe that such things are ordered, Ellen?” + </p> + <p> + “Everything is ordered, isn’t it?” + </p> + <p> + “I suppose so. And if they are, we’re not, to blame for what happens.” + </p> + <p> + “Not if we try to do right.” + </p> + <p> + “Of course. The Kentons always do that,” said Boyne, with the faith in his + family that did not fail him in the darkest hour. “But what I mean is that + if anything comes on you that you can’t foresee and you can’t get out of—” + The next step was not clear, and Boyne paused. He asked, + </p> + <p> + “Do you think that we can control our feelings, Ellen?” + </p> + <p> + “About what?” + </p> + <p> + “Well, about persons that we like.” He added, for safety, “Or dislike.” + </p> + <p> + “I’m afraid not,” said Ellen, sadly, “We ought to like persons and dislike + them for some good reason, but we don’t.” + </p> + <p> + “Yes, that’s what I mean,” said Borne, with a long breath. “Sometimes it + seems like a kind of possession, doesn’t it?” + </p> + <p> + “It seems more like that when we like them,” Ellen said. + </p> + <p> + “Yes, that’s what I mean. If a person was to take a fancy to some one that + was above him, that was richer, or older, he wouldn’t be to blame for it, + would he?” + </p> + <p> + “Was that what you wanted to ask me about?” + </p> + <p> + Borne hesitated. “Yes” he said. He was in for it now. + </p> + <p> + Ellen had not noticed Boyne’s absorption with Miss Rasmith on the ship, + but she vaguely remembered hearing Lottie tease him about her, and she + said now, “He wouldn’t be to blame for it if he couldn’t help it, but if + the person was much older it would be a pity!” + </p> + <p> + “Uh, she isn’t so very much older,” said Borne, more cheerfully than he + had spoken before. + </p> + <p> + “Is it somebody that you have taken a fancy to Borne?” + </p> + <p> + “I don’t know, Ellen. That’s what makes it so kind of awful. I can’t tell + whether it’s a real fancy, or I only think it is. Sometimes I think it is, + and sometimes I think that I think so because I am afraid to believe it. + Do you under Ellen?” + </p> + <p> + “It seems to me that I do. But you oughtn’t to let your fancy run away + with you, Boyne. What a queer boy!” + </p> + <p> + “It’s a kind of fascination, I suppose. But whether it’s a real fancy or + an unreal one, I can’t get away from it.” + </p> + <p> + “Poor boy!” said his sister. + </p> + <p> + “Perhaps it’s those books. Sometimes I think it is, and I laugh at the + whole idea; and then again it’s so strong that I can’t get away from it. + Ellen!” + </p> + <p> + “Well, Boyne?” + </p> + <p> + “I could tell you who it is, if you think that would do any good—if + you think it would help me to see it in the true light, or you could help + me more by knowing who it is than you can now.” + </p> + <p> + “I hope it isn’t anybody that you can’t respect, Boyne?” + </p> + <p> + “No, indeed! It’s somebody you would never dream of.” + </p> + <p> + “Well?” Ellen was waiting for him to speak, but he could not get the words + out, even to her. + </p> + <p> + “I guess I’ll tell you some other time. Maybe I can get over it myself.” + </p> + <p> + “It would be the best way if you could.” + </p> + <p> + He rose and left her bedside, and then he came back. “Ellen, I’ve got + something that I wish you would keep for me.” + </p> + <p> + “What is it? Of course I will.” + </p> + <p> + “Well, it’s—something I don’t want you to let Lottie know I’ve got. + She tells that Mr. Trannel everything, and then he wants to make fun. Do + you think he’s so very witty?” + </p> + <p> + “I can’t help laughing at some things he says.” + </p> + <p> + “I suppose he is,” Boyne ruefully admitted. “But that doesn’t make you + like him any better. Well, if you won’t tell Lottie, I’ll give it to you + now.” + </p> + <p> + “I won’t tell anything that you don’t want me to, Boyne.” + </p> + <p> + “It’s nothing. It’s just-a picture of the Queen on porcelain, that I got + in The Hague. The guide took me into the store, and I thought I ought to + get something.” + </p> + <p> + “Oh, that’s very nice, Boyne. I do like the Queen so much. She’s so + sweet!” + </p> + <p> + “Yes, isn’t she?” said Boyne, glad of Ellen’s approval. So far, at least, + he was not wrong. “Here it is now.” + </p> + <p> + He put the miniature in Ellen’s hand. She lifted herself on her elbow. + “Light the candle and let me see it.” + </p> + <p> + “No, no!” he entreated. “It might wake Lottie, and—and—Good-night, + Ellen.” + </p> + <p> + “Can you go to sleep now, Boyne?” + </p> + <p> + “Oh yes. I’m all right. Good-night.” + </p> + <p> + “Good-night, then.” + </p> + <p> + Borne stooped over and kissed her, and went to the door. He came back and + asked, “You don’t think it was silly, or anything, for me to get it?” + </p> + <p> + “No, indeed! It’s just what you will like to have when you get home. We’ve + all seen her so often. I’ll put it in my trunk, and nobody shall know + about it till we’re safely back in Tuskingum.” + </p> + <p> + Boyne sighed deeply. “Yes, that’s what I meant. Good-night.” + </p> + <p> + “Good-night, Boyne.” + </p> + <p> + “I hope I haven’t waked you up too much?” + </p> + <p> + “Oh no. I can get to sleep easily again.” + </p> + <p> + “Well, good-night.” Boyne sighed again, but not so deeply, and this time + he went out. + </p> + <p> + <a name="link2H_4_0022" id="link2H_4_0022"> + <!-- H2 anchor --> </a> + </p> + <div style="height: 4em;"> + <br /><br /><br /><br /> + </div> + <h2> + XXII. + </h2> + <p> + Mrs. Kenton woke with the clear vision which is sometimes vouchsafed to + people whose eyes are holden at other hours of the day. She had heard + Boyne opening and shutting Ellen’s door, and her heart smote her that he + should have gone to his sister with whatever trouble he was in rather than + come to his mother. It was natural that she should put the blame on her + husband, and “Now, Mr. Kenton,” she began, with an austerity of voice + which he recognized before he was well awake, “if you won’t take Boyne off + somewhere to-day, I will. I think we had better all go. We have been here + a whole fortnight, and we have got thoroughly rested, and there is no + excuse for our wasting our time any longer. If we are going to see + Holland, we had better begin doing it.” + </p> + <p> + The judge gave a general assent, and said that if she wanted to go to + Flushing he supposed he could find some garden-seeds there, in the flower + and vegetable nurseries, which would be adapted to the climate of + Tuskingum, and they could all put in the day pleasantly, looking round the + place. Whether it was the suggestion of Tuskingum in relation to Flushing + that decided her against the place, or whether she had really meant to go + to Leyden, she now expressed the wish, as vividly as if it were novel, to + explore the scene of the Pilgrims’ sojourn before they sailed for + Plymouth, and she reproached him for not caring about the place when they + both used to take such an interest in it at home. + </p> + <p> + “Well,” said the judge, “if I were at home I should take an interest in it + here.” + </p> + <p> + This provoked her to a silence which he thought it best to break in tacit + compliance with her wish, and he asked, “Do you propose taking the whole + family and the appurtenances? We shall be rather a large party.” + </p> + <p> + “Ellen would wish to go, and I suppose Mr. Breckon. We couldn’t very well + go without them.” + </p> + <p> + “And how about Lottie and that young Trannel?” + </p> + <p> + “We can’t leave him out, very well. I wish we could. I don’t like him.” + </p> + <p> + “There’s nothing easier than not asking him, if you don’t want him.” + </p> + <p> + “Yes, there is, when you’ve got a girl like Lottie to deal with. Quite + likely she would ask him herself. We must take him because we can’t leave + her.” + </p> + <p> + “Yes, I reckon,” the judge acquiesced. + </p> + <p> + “I’m glad,” Mrs. Kenton said, after a moment, “that it isn’t Ellen he’s + after; it almost reconciles me to his being with Lottie so much. I only + wonder he doesn’t take to Ellen, he’s so much like that—” + </p> + <p> + She did not say out what was in her mind, but her husband knew. “Yes, I’ve + noticed it. This young Breckon was quite enough so, for my taste. I don’t + know what it is that just saves him from it.” + </p> + <p> + “He’s good. You could tell that from the beginning.” + </p> + <p> + They went off upon the situation that, superficially or subliminally, was + always interesting them beyond anything in the world, and they did not + openly recur to Mrs. Kenton’s plan for the day till they met their + children at breakfast. It was a meal at which Breckon and Trammel were + both apt to join them, where they took it at two of the tables on the + broad, seaward piazza of the hotel when the weather was fine. Both the + young men now applauded her plan, in their different sorts. It was easily + arranged that they should go by train and not by tram from The Hague. The + train was chosen, and Mrs. Kenton, when she went to her room to begin the + preparations for a day’s pleasure which constitute so distinctly a part of + its pain, imagined that everything was settled. She had scarcely closed + the door behind her when Lottie opened it and shut it again behind her. + </p> + <p> + “Mother,” she said, in the new style of address to which she was + habituating Mrs. Kenton, after having so long called her momma, “I am not + going with you.” + </p> + <p> + “Indeed you are, then!” her mother retorted. “Do you think I would leave + you here all day with that fellow? A nice talk we should make!” + </p> + <p> + “You are perfectly welcome to that fellow, mother, and as he’s accepted he + will have to go with you, and there won’t be any talk. But, as I remarked + before, I am not going.” + </p> + <p> + “Why aren’t you going, I should like to know?” + </p> + <p> + “Because I don’t like the company.” + </p> + <p> + “What do you mean? Have you got anything against Mr. Breckon?” + </p> + <p> + “He’s insipid, but as long as Ellen don’t mind it I don’t care. I object + to Mr. Trannel!” + </p> + <p> + “Why?” + </p> + <p> + “I don’t see why I should have to tell you. If I said I liked him you + might want to know, but it seems to me that my not liking him is—my + not liking him is my own affair.” There was a kind of logic in this that + silenced Mrs. Kenton for the moment. In view of her advantage Lottie + relented so far as to add, “I’ve found out something about him.” + </p> + <p> + Mrs. Kenton was imperative in her alarm. “What is it?” she demanded. + </p> + <p> + Lottie answered, obliquely: “Well, I didn’t leave The Hague to get rid of + them, and then take up with one of them at Scheveningen.” + </p> + <p> + “One of what?” + </p> + <p> + “COOK’S TOURISTS, if you must know, mother. Mr. Trannel, as you call him, + is a Cook’s tourist, and that’s the end of it. I have got no use for him + from this out.” + </p> + <p> + Mrs. Kenton was daunted, and not for the first time, by her daughter’s + superior knowledge of life. She could put Boyne down sometimes, though not + always, when he attempted to impose a novel code of manners or morals upon + her, but she could not cope with Lottie. In the present case she could + only ask, “Well?” + </p> + <p> + “Well, they’re the cheapest of the cheap. He actually showed me his + coupons, and tried to put me down with the idea that everybody used them. + But I guess he found it wouldn’t work. He said if you were not personally + conducted it was all right.” + </p> + <p> + “Now, Lottie, you have got to tell me just what you mean,” said Mrs. + Kenton, and from having stood during this parley, she sat down to hear + Lottie out at her leisure. But if there was anything more difficult than + for Lottie to be explicit it was to make her be so, and in the end Mrs. + Kenton was scarcely wiser than she was at the beginning to her daughter’s + reasons. It appeared that if you wanted to be cheap you could travel with + those coupons, and Lottie did not wish to be cheap, or have anything to do + with those who were. The Kentons had always held up their heads, and if + Ellen had chosen to disgrace them with Bittridge, Dick had made it all + right, and she at least was not going to do anything that she would be + ashamed of. She was going to stay at home, and have her meals in her room + till they got back. + </p> + <p> + Her mother paid no heed to her repeated declaration. “Lottie,” she asked, + with the heart-quake that the thought of Richard’s act always gave her + with reference to Ellen, “have you ever let out the least hint of that?” + </p> + <p> + “Of course I haven’t,” Lottie scornfully retorted. “I hope I know what a + crank Ellen is.” + </p> + <p> + They were not just the terms in which Mrs. Kenton would have chosen to be + reassured, but she was glad to be assured in any terms. She said, vaguely: + “I believe in my heart that I will stay at home, too. All this has given + me a bad headache.” + </p> + <p> + “I was going to have a headache myself,” said Lottie, with injury. “But I + suppose I can get on along without. I can just simply say I’m not going. + If he proposes to stay, too, I can soon settle that.” + </p> + <p> + “The great difficulty will be to get your father to go.” + </p> + <p> + “You can make Ellen make him,” Lottie suggested. + </p> + <p> + “That is true,” said Mrs. Kenton, with such increasing absence that her + daughter required of her: + </p> + <p> + “Are you staying on my account?” + </p> + <p> + “I think you had better not be left alone the whole day. But I am not + staying on your account. I don’t believe we had so many of us better go. + It might look a little pointed.” + </p> + <p> + Lottie laughed harshly. “I guess Mr. Breckon wouldn’t see the point, he’s + so perfectly gone.” + </p> + <p> + “Do you really believe it, Lottie?” Mrs. Kenton entreated, with a sudden + tenderness for her younger daughter such as she did not always feel. + </p> + <p> + “I should think anybody would believe it—anybody but Ellen.” + </p> + <p> + “Yes,” Mrs. Kenton dreamily assented. + </p> + <p> + Lottie made her way to the door. “Well, if you do stay, mother, I’m not + going to have you hanging round me all day. I can chaperon myself.” + </p> + <p> + “Lottie,” her mother tried to stay her, “I wish you would go. I don’t + believe that Mr. Trannel will be much of an addition. He will be on your + poor father’s hands all day, or else Ellen’s, and if you went you could + help off.” + </p> + <p> + “Thank you, mother. I’ve had quite all I want of Mr. Trannel. You can tell + him he needn’t go, if you want to.” + </p> + <p> + Lottie at least did not leave her mother to make her excuses to the party + when they met for starting. Mrs. Kenton had deferred her own till she + thought it was too late for her husband to retreat, and then bunglingly + made them, with so much iteration that it seemed to her it would have been + far less pointed, as concerned Mr. Breckon, if she had gone. Lottie + sunnily announced that she was going to stay with her mother, and did not + even try to account for her defection to Mr. Trannel. + </p> + <p> + “What’s the matter with my staying, too?” he asked. “It seems to me there + are four wheels to this coach now.” + </p> + <p> + He had addressed his misgiving more to Lottie than the rest; but with the + same sunny indifference to the consequence for others that she had put on + in stating her decision, she now discharged herself from further + responsibility by turning on her heel and leaving it with the party + generally. In the circumstances Mr. Trannel had no choice but to go, and + he was supported, possibly, by the hope of taking it out of Lottie some + other time. + </p> + <p> + It was more difficult for Mrs. Kenton to get rid of the judge, but an + inscrutable frown goes far in such exigencies. It seems to explain, and it + certainly warns, and the husband on whom it is bent never knows, even + after the longest experience, whether he had better inquire further. + Usually he decides that he had better not, and Judge Kenton went off + towards the tram with Boyne in the cloud of mystery which involved them + both as to Mrs. Kenton’s meaning. + </p> + <p> + <a name="link2H_4_0023" id="link2H_4_0023"> + <!-- H2 anchor --> </a> + </p> + <div style="height: 4em;"> + <br /><br /><br /><br /> + </div> + <h2> + XXIII. + </h2> + <p> + Trannel attached himself as well as he could to Breckon and Ellen, and + Breckon had an opportunity not fully offered him before to note a likeness + between himself and a fellow-man whom he was aware of not liking, though + he tried to love him, as he felt it right to love all men. He thought he + had not been quite sympathetic enough with Mrs. Kenton in her having to + stay behind, and he tried to make it up to Mr. Trannel in his having to + come. He invented civilities to show him, and ceded his place next Ellen + as if Trannel had a right to it. Trannel ignored him in keeping it, unless + it was recognizing Breckon to say, “Oh, I hope I’m not in your way, old + fellow?” and then making jokes to Ellen. Breckon could not say the jokes + were bad, though the taste of them seemed to him so. The man had a + fleeting wit, which scorched whatever he turned it upon, and yet it was + wit. “Why don’t you try him in American?” he asked at the failure of + Breckon and the tram conductor to understand each other in Dutch. He tried + the conductor himself in American, and he was so deplorably funny that it + was hard for Breckon to help being ‘particeps criminus’, at least in a + laugh. + </p> + <p> + He asked himself if that were really the kind of man he was, and he grew + silent and melancholy in the fear that it was a good deal the sort of man. + To this morbid fancy Trannel seemed himself in a sort of excess, or what + he would be if he were logically ultimated. He remembered all the + triviality of his behavior with Ellen at first, and rather sickened at the + thought of some of his early pleasantries. She was talking gayly now with + Trannel, and Breckon wondered whether she was falling under the charm that + he felt in him, in spite of himself. + </p> + <p> + If she was, her father was not. The judge sat on the other side of the + car, and unmistakably glowered at the fellow’s attempts to make himself + amusing to Ellen. Trannel himself was not insensible to the judge’s mood. + Now and then he said something to intensify it. He patronized the judge + and he made fun of the tourist character in which Boyne had got himself + up, with a field-glass slung by a strap under one arm and a red Baedeker + in his hand. He sputtered with malign laughter at a rather gorgeous + necktie which Boyne had put on for the day, and said it was not a very + good match for the Baedeker. + </p> + <p> + Boyne retorted rudely, and that amused Trannel still more. He became + personal to Breckon, and noted the unclerical cut of his clothes. He said + he ought to have put on his uniform for an expedition like that, in case + they got into any sort of trouble. To Ellen alone he was inoffensive, + unless he overdid his polite attentions to her in carrying her parasol for + her, and helping her out of the tram, when they arrived, shouldering every + one else away, and making haste to separate her from the others and then + to walk on with her a little in advance. + </p> + <p> + Suddenly he dropped her, and fell back to Boyne and his father, while + Breckon hastened forward to her side. Trannel put his arm across Boyne’s + shoulders and asked him if he were mad, and then laughed at him. “You’re + all right, Boyne, but you oughtn’t to be so approachable. You ought to put + on more dignity, and repel familiarity!” + </p> + <p> + Boyne could only twitch away in silence that he made as haughty as he + could, but not so haughty that Trannel did not find it laughable, and he + laughed in a teasing way that made Breckon more and more serious. He was + aware of becoming even solemn with the question of his likeness to + Trannel. He was of Trannel’s quality, and their difference was a matter of + quantity, and there was not enough difference. In his sense of their + likeness Breckon vowed himself to a gravity of behavior evermore which he + should not probably be able to observe, but the sample he now displayed + did not escape the keen vigilance of Trannel. + </p> + <p> + “With the exception of Miss Kenton,” he addressed himself to the party, + “you’re all so easy and careless that if you don’t look out you’ll lose + me. Miss Kenton, I wish you would keep an eye on me. I don’t want to get + lost.” + </p> + <p> + Ellen laughed—she could not help it—and her laughing made it + less possible than before for Breckon to unbend and meet Trannel on his + own ground, to give him joke for joke, to exchange banter with him. He + might never have been willing to do that, but now he shrank from it, in + his realization of their likeness, with an abhorrence that rendered him + rigid. + </p> + <p> + The judge was walking ahead with Boyne, and his back expressed such severe + disapproval that, between her fear that Trannel would say something to + bring her father’s condemnation on him and her sense of their inhospitable + attitude towards one who was their guest, in a sort, she said, with her + gentle gayety, “Then you must keep near me, Mr. Trannel. I’ll see that + nothing happens.” + </p> + <p> + “That’s very sweet of you,” said Trannel, soberly. Whether he had now + vented his malicious humor and was ready to make himself agreeable, or was + somewhat quelled by the unfriendly ambient he had created, or was wrought + upon by her friendliness, he became everything that could be wished in a + companion for a day’s pleasure. He took the lead at the station, and got + them a compartment in the car to themselves for the little run to Leyden, + and on the way he talked very well. He politely borrowed Boyne’s Baedeker, + and decided for the party what they had best see, and showed an acceptable + intelligence, as well as a large experience in the claims of Leyden upon + the visitor’s interest. He had been there often before, it seemed, and in + the event it appeared that he had chosen the days sightseeing wisely. + </p> + <p> + He no longer addressed himself respectfully to Ellen alone, but he + re-established himself in Boyne’s confidence with especial pains, and he + conciliated Breckon by a recognition of his priority with Ellen with a + delicacy refined enough for even the susceptibility of a lover alarmed for + his rights. If he could not overcome the reluctance of the judge, he + brought him to the civil response which any one who tried for Kenton’s + liking achieved, even if he did not merit it, and there remained no more + reserve in Kenton’s manner than there had been with the young man from the + first. He had never been a persona grata to the judge, and if he did not + become so now, he at least ceased to be actively displeasing. + </p> + <p> + That was the year before the young Queen came to her own, and in the last + days of her minority she was visiting all the cities of her future + dominion with the queen-mother. When Kenton’s party left the station they + found Leyden as gay for her reception as flags and banners could make the + gray old town, and Trannel relapsed for a moment so far as to suggest that + the decorations were in honor of Boyne’s presence, but he did not abuse + the laugh that this made to Boyne’s further shame. + </p> + <p> + There was no carriage at the station which would hold the party of five, + and they had to take two vehicles. Trannel said it was lucky they wanted + two, since there were no more, and he put himself in authority to assort + the party. The judge, he decided, must go with Ellen and Breckon, and he + hoped Boyne would let him go in his carriage, if he would sit on the box + with the driver. The judge afterwards owned that he had weakly indulged + his dislike of the fellow, in letting him take Boyne, and not insisting on + going himself with Tramiel, but this was when it was long too late. Ellen + had her misgivings, but, except for that gibe about the decorations, + Trannel had been behaving so well that she hoped she might trust Boyne + with him. She made a kind of appeal for her brother, bidding him and + Trannel take good care of each other, and Trannel promised so earnestly to + look after Boyne that she ought to have been alarmed for him. He took the + lead, rising at times to wave a reassuring hand to her over the back of + his carriage, and, in fact, nothing evil could very well happen from him, + with the others following so close upon him. They met from time to time in + the churches they visited, and when they lost sight of one another, + through a difference of opinion in the drivers as to the best route, they + came together at the place Trannel had appointed for their next reunion. + </p> + <p> + He showed himself a guide so admirably qualified that he found a way for + them to objects of interest that had at first denied themselves in + anticipation of the visit from the queens; when they all sat down at lunch + in the restaurant which he found for them, he could justifiably boast that + he would get them into the Town Hall, which they had been told was barred + for the day against anything but sovereign curiosity. He was now on the + best term with Boyne, who seemed to have lost all diffidence of him, and + treated him with an easy familiarity that showed itself in his slapping + him on the shoulder and making dints in his hat. Trannel seemed to enjoy + these caresses, and, when they parted again for the afternoon’s + sight-seeing, Ellen had no longer a qualm in letting Boyne drive off with + him. + </p> + <p> + He had, in fact, known how to make himself very acceptable to Boyne. He + knew all the originals of his heroical romances, and was able to give the + real names and the geographical position of those princesses who had been + in love with American adventurers. Under promise of secrecy he disclosed + the real names of the adventurers themselves, now obscured in the titles + given them to render them worthy their union with sovereigns. He resumed + his fascinating confidences when they drove off after luncheon, and he + resumed them after each separation from the rest of the party. Boyne + listened with a flushed face and starting eyes, and when at last Trannel + offered, upon a pledge of the most sacred nature from him never to reveal + a word of what he said, he began to relate an adventure of which he was + himself the hero. It was a bold travesty of one of the latest romances + that Boyne had read, involving the experience of an American very little + older than Boyne himself, to whom a wilful young crown-princess, in a + little state which Trannel would not name even to Boyne, had made advances + such as he could not refuse to meet without cruelty. He was himself deeply + in love with her, but he felt bound in honor not to encourage her + infatuation as long as he could help, for he had been received by her + whole family with such kindness and confidence that he had to consider + them. + </p> + <p> + “Oh, pshaw!” Boyne broke in upon him, doubting, and yet wishing not to + doubt, “that’s the same as the story of ‘Hector Folleyne’.” + </p> + <p> + “Yes,” said Trannel, quietly. “I thought you would recognize it.” + </p> + <p> + “Well, but,” Boyne went on, “Hector married the princess!” + </p> + <p> + “In the book, yes. The fellow I gave the story to said it would never do + not to have him marry her, and it would help to disguise the fact. That’s + what he said, after he had given the whole thing away.” + </p> + <p> + “And do you mean to say it was you? Oh, you can’t stuff me! How did you + get out of marrying her, I should like to know, when the chancellor came + to you and said that the whole family wanted you to, for fear it would + kill her if—” + </p> + <p> + “Well, there was a scene, I can’t deny that. We had a regular family + conclave—father, mother, Aunt Hitty, and all the folks—and we + kept it up pretty much all night. The princess wasn’t there, of course, + and I could convince them that I was right. If she had been, I don’t + believe I could have held out. But they had to listen to reason, and I got + away between two days.” + </p> + <p> + “But why didn’t you marry her?” + </p> + <p> + “Well, for one thing, as I told you, I thought I ought to consider her + family. Then there was a good fellow, the crown-prince of + Saxe-Wolfenhutten, who was dead in love with her, and was engaged to her + before I turned up. I had been at school with him, and I felt awfully + sorry for him; and I thought I ought to sacrifice myself a little to him. + But I suppose the thing that influenced me most was finding out that if I + married the princess I should have to give up my American citizenship and + become her subject.” + </p> + <p> + “Well?” Boyne panted. + </p> + <p> + “Well, would you have done it?” + </p> + <p> + “Couldn’t you have got along without doing that?” + </p> + <p> + “That was the only thing I couldn’t get around, somehow. So I left.” + </p> + <p> + “And the princess, did she—die?” + </p> + <p> + “It takes a good deal more than that to kill a fifteen-year-old princess,” + said Trannel, and he gave a harsh laugh. “She married Saxe-Wolfenhutten.” + Boyne was silent. “Now, I don’t want you to speak of this till after I + leave Scheveningen—especially to Miss Lottie. You know how girls + are, and I think Miss Lottie is waiting to get a bind on me, anyway. If + she heard how I was cut out of my chance with that princess she’d never + let me believe I gave her up of my own free will?” + </p> + <p> + “NO, no; I won’t tell her.” + </p> + <p> + Boyne remained in a silent rapture, and he did not notice they were no + longer following the rest of their party in the other carriage. This had + turned down a corner, at which Mr. Breckon, sitting on the front seat, had + risen and beckoned their driver to follow, but their driver, who appeared + afterwards to have not too much a head of his own, or no head at all, had + continued straight on, in the rear of a tram-car, which was slowly finding + its way through the momently thickening crowd. Boyne was first aware that + it was a humorous crowd when, at a turn of the street, their equipage was + greeted with ironical cheers by a group of gay young Dutchmen on the + sidewalk. Then he saw that the sidewalks were packed with people, who + spread into the street almost to the tram, and that the house fronts were + dotted with smiling Dutch faces, the faces of pretty Dutch girls, who + seemed to share the amusement of the young fellows below. + </p> + <p> + Trannel lay back in the carriage. “This is something like,” he said. + “Boyne, they’re on to the distinguished young Ohioan—the only Ohioan + out of office in Europe.” + </p> + <p> + “Yes,” said Boyne, trying to enjoy it. “I wonder what they are holloing + at.” + </p> + <p> + Trannel laughed. “They’re holloing at your Baedeker, my dear boy. They + never saw one before,” and Boyne was aware that he was holding his + red-backed guide conspicuously in view on his lap. “They know you’re a + foreigner by it.” + </p> + <p> + “Don’t you think we ought to turn down somewhere? I don’t see poppa + anywhere.” He rose and looked anxiously back over the top of their + carriage. The crowd, closing in behind it, hailed his troubled face with + cries that were taken up by the throng on the sidewalks. Boyne turned + about to find that the tram-car which they had been following had + disappeared round a corner, but their driver was still keeping on. At a + wilder burst of applause Trannel took off his hat and bowed to the crowd, + right and left. + </p> + <p> + “Bow, bow!” he said to Boyne. “They’ll be calling for a speech the next + thing. Bow, I tell you!” + </p> + <p> + “Tell him to turn round!” cried the boy. + </p> + <p> + “I can’t speak Dutch,” said Trannel, and Boyne leaned forward and poked + the driver in the back. + </p> + <p> + “Go back!” he commanded. + </p> + <p> + The driver shook his head and pointed forward with his whip. “He’s all + right,” said Trannel. “He can’t turn now. We’ve got to take the next + corner.” The street in front was empty, and the people were crowding back + on the sidewalks. Loud, vague noises made themselves heard round the + corner to which the driver had pointed. “By Jove!” Trannel said, “I + believe they’re coming round that way.” + </p> + <p> + “Who are coming?” Boyne palpitated. + </p> + <p> + “The queens.” + </p> + <p> + “The queens?” Boyne gasped; it seemed to him that he shrieked the words. + </p> + <p> + “Yes. And there’s a tobacconist’s now,” said Trannel, as if that were what + he had been looking for all along. “I want some cigarettes.” + </p> + <p> + He leaped lightly from the carriage, and pushed his way out of sight on + the sidewalk. Boyne remained alone in the vehicle, staring wildly round; + the driver kept slowly and stupidly on, Boyne did not know how much + farther. He could not speak; he felt as if he could not stir. But the + moment came when he could not be still. He gave a galvanic jump to the + ground, and the friendly crowd on the sidewalk welcomed him to its ranks + and closed about him. The driver had taken the lefthand corner, just + before a plain carriage with the Queen and the queen-mother came in sight + round the right. The young Queen was bowing to the people, gently, and + with a sort of mechanical regularity. Now and then a brighter smile than + that she conventionally wore lighted up her face. The simple progress was + absolutely without state, except for the aide-de-camp on horseback who + rode beside the carriage, a little to the front. + </p> + <p> + Boyne stood motionless on the curb, where a friendly tall Dutchman had + placed him in front that he might see the Queen. + </p> + <p> + “Hello!” said the voice of Trannel, and elbowing his way to Boyne’s side, + he laughed and coughed through the smoke of his cigarette. “I was afraid + you had lost me. Where’s your carriage?” + </p> + <p> + Boyne did not notice his mockeries. He was entranced in that beatific + vision; his boy-heart went out in worship to the pretty young creature + with a reverence that could not be uttered. The tears came into his eyes. + </p> + <p> + “There, there! She’s bowing to you, Boyne, she’s smiling right at you. By + Jove! She’s beckoning to you!” + </p> + <p> + “You be still!” Boyne retorted, finding his tongue. “She isn’t doing any + such a thing.” + </p> + <p> + “She is, I swear she is! She’s doing it again! She’s stopping the + carriage. Oh, go out and see what she wants! Don’t you know that a queen’s + wish is a command? You’ve got to go!” + </p> + <p> + Boyne never could tell just how it happened. The carriage did seem to be + stopping, and the Queen seemed to be looking at him. He thought he must, + and he started into the street towards her, and the carriage came abreast + of him. He had almost reached the carriage when the aide turned and + spurred his horse before him. Four strong hands that were like iron clamps + were laid one on each of Boyne’s elbows and shoulders, and he was haled + away, as if by superhuman force. “Mr. Trannel!” he called out in his + agony, but the wretch had disappeared, and Boyne was left with his + captors, to whom he could have said nothing if he could have thought of + anything to say. + </p> + <p> + The detectives pulled him through the crowd and hurried him swiftly down + the side street. A little curiosity straggled after him in the shape of + small Dutch boys, too short to look over the shoulders of men at the + queens, and too weak to make their way through them to the front; but for + them, Boyne seemed alone in the world with the relentless officers, who + were dragging him forward and hurting him so with the grip of their iron + hands. He lifted up his face to entreat them not to hold him so tight, and + suddenly it was as if he beheld an angel standing in his path. It was + Breckon who was there, staring at him aghast. + </p> + <p> + “Why, Boyne!” he cried. + </p> + <p> + “Oh, Mr. Breckon!” Boyne wailed back. “Is it you? Oh, do tell them I + didn’t mean to do anything! I thought she beckoned to me.” + </p> + <p> + “Who? Who beckoned to you?” + </p> + <p> + “The Queen!” Boyne sobbed, while the detectives pulled him relentlessly + on. + </p> + <p> + Breckon addressed them suavely in their owe tongue which had never come in + more deferential politeness from human lips. He ventured the belief that + there was a mistake; he assured them that he knew their prisoner, and that + he was the son of a most respectable American family, whom they could find + at the Kurhaus in Scheveningen. He added some irrelevancies, and got for + all answer that they had made Boyne’s arrest for sufficient reasons, and + were taking him to prison. If his friends wished to intervene in his + behalf they could do so before the magistrate, but for the present they + must admonish Mr. Breckon not to put himself in the way of the law. + </p> + <p> + “Don’t go, Mr. Breckon!” Boyne implored him, as his captors made him + quicken his pace after slowing a little for their colloquy with Breckon. + “Oh, where is poppa? He could get me away. Oh, where is poppa?” + </p> + <p> + “Don’t! Don’t call out, Boyne,” Breckon entreated. “Your father is right + here at the end of the street. He’s in the carriage there with Miss + Kenton. I was coming to look for you. Don’t cry out so!” + </p> + <p> + “No, no, I won’t, Mr. Breckon. I’ll be perfectly quiet now. Only do get + poppa quick! He can tell them in a minute that it’s all right!” + </p> + <p> + He made a prodigious effort to control himself, while Breckon ran a little + ahead, with some wild notion of preparing Ellen. As he disappeared at the + corner, Boyne choked a sob into a muffed bellow, and was able to meet the + astonished eyes of his father and sister in this degree of triumph. + </p> + <p> + They had not in the least understood Breckon’s explanation, and, in fact, + it had not been very lucid. At sight of her brother strenuously upheld + between the detectives, and dragged along the sidewalk, Ellen sprang from + the carriage and ran towards him. “Why, what’s the matter with Boyne?” she + demanded. “Are you hurt, Boyne, dear? Are they taking him to the + hospital?” + </p> + <p> + Before he could answer, and quite before the judge could reach the + tragical group, she had flung her arms round Boyne’s neck, and was kissing + his tear-drabbled face, while he lamented back, “They’re taking me to + prison.” + </p> + <p> + “Taking you to prison? I should like to know what for! What are you taking + my brother to prison for?” she challenged the detectives, who paused, + bewildered, while all the little Dutch boys round admired this obstruction + of the law, and several Dutch housewives, too old to go out to see the + queens, looked down from their windows. It was wholly illegal, but the + detectives were human. They could snub such a friend of their prisoner as + Breckon, but they could not meet the dovelike ferocity of Ellen with + unkindness. They explained as well as they might, and at a suggestion + which Kenton made through Breckon, they admitted that it was not beside + their duty to take Boyne directly to a magistrate, who could pass upon his + case, and even release him upon proper evidence of his harmlessness, and + sufficient security for any demand that justice might make for his future + appearance. + </p> + <p> + “Then,” said the judge, quietly, “tell them that we will go with them. It + will be all right, Boyne. Ellen, you and I will get back into the + carriage, and—” + </p> + <p> + “No!” Boyne roared. “Don’t leave me, Nelly!” + </p> + <p> + “Indeed, I won’t leave you, Boyne! Mr. Breckon, you get into the carriage + with poppa, and I—” + </p> + <p> + “I think I had better go with you, Miss Kenton,” said Breckon, and in a + tender superfluity they both accompanied Boyne on foot, while the judge + remounted to his place in the carriage and kept abreast of them on their + way to the magistrate’s. + </p> + <p> + <a name="link2H_4_0024" id="link2H_4_0024"> + <!-- H2 anchor --> </a> + </p> + <div style="height: 4em;"> + <br /><br /><br /><br /> + </div> + <h2> + XXIV. + </h2> + <p> + The magistrate conceived of Boyne’s case with a readiness that gave the + judge a high opinion of his personal and national intelligence. He even + smiled a little, in accepting the explanation which Breckon was able to + make him from Boyne, but he thought his duty to give the boy a fatherly + warning for the future. He remarked to Breckon that it was well for Boyne + that the affair had not happened in Germany, where it would have been + found a much more serious matter, though, indeed, he added, it had to be + seriously regarded anywhere in these times, when the lives of sovereigns + were so much at the mercy of all sorts of madmen and miscreants. He + relaxed a little from his severity in his admonition to say directly to + Boyne that queens, even when they wished to speak with people, did not + beckon them in the public streets. When this speech translated to Boyne by + Breckon, whom the magistrate complimented on the perfection of his Dutch, + Boyne hung his head sheepishly, and could not be restored to his + characteristic dignity again in the magistrate’s presence. The judge + gratefully shook hands with the friendly justice, and made him a little + speech of thanks, which Breckon interpreted, and then the justice shook + hand with the judge, and gracefully accepted the introduction which he + offered him to Ellen. They parted with reciprocal praises and obeisances, + which included even the detectives. The judge had some question, which he + submitted to Breckon, whether he ought not to offer them something, but + Breckon thought not. + </p> + <p> + Breckon found it hard to abdicate the sort of authority in which his + knowledge of Dutch had placed him, and when he protested that he had done + nothing but act as interpreter, Ellen said, “Yes, but we couldn’t have + done anything without you,” and this was the view that Mrs. Kenton took of + the matter in the family conclave which took place later in the evening. + Breckon was not allowed to withdraw from it, in spite of many modest + efforts, before she had bashfully expressed her sense of his service to + him, and made Boyne share her thanksgiving. She had her arm about the + boy’s shoulder in giving Breckon her hand, and when Breckon had got away + she pulled Boyne to her in a more peremptory embrace. + </p> + <p> + “Now, Boyne,” she said, “I am not going to have any more nonsense. I want + to know why you did it.” + </p> + <p> + The judge and Ellen had already conjectured clearly enough, and Boyne did + not fear them. But he looked at his younger sister as he sulkily answered, + “I am not going to tell you before Lottie.” + </p> + <p> + “Come in here, then,” said his mother, and she led him into the next room + and closed the door. She quickly returned without him. “Yes,” she began, + “it’s just as I supposed; it was that worthless fellow who put him up to + it. Of course, it began with those fool books he’s been reading, and the + notions that Miss Rasmith put into his head. But he never would have done + anything if it hadn’t been for Mr. Trannel.” + </p> + <p> + Lottie had listened in silent scorn to the whole proceedings up to this + point, and had refused a part in the general recognition of Breckon as a + special providence. Now she flashed out with a terrible volubility: “What + did I tell you? What else could you expect of a Cook’s tourist? And mom—mother + wanted to make me go with you, after I told her what he was! Well, if I + had have gone, I’ll bet I could have kept him from playing his tricks. + I’ll bet he wouldn’t have taken any liberties, with me along. I’ll bet if + he had, it wouldn’t have been Boyne that got arrested. I’ll bet he + wouldn’t have got off so easily with the magistrate, either! But I suppose + you’ll all let him come bowing and smiling round in the morning, like + butter wouldn’t melt in your mouths. That seems to be the Kenton way. + Anybody can pull our noses, or get us arrested that wants to, and we never + squeak.” She went on a long time to this purpose, Mrs. Kenton listening + with an air almost of conviction, and Ellen patiently bearing it as a + right that Lottie had in a matter where she had been otherwise ignored. + </p> + <p> + The judge broke out, not upon Lottie, but upon his wife. “Good heavens, + Sarah, can’t you make the child hush?” + </p> + <p> + Lottie answered for her mother, with a crash of nerves and a gush of + furious tears: “Oh, I’ve got to hush, I suppose. It’s always the way when + I’m trying to keep up the dignity of the family. I suppose it will be + cabled to America, and by tomorrow it will be all over Tuskingum how Boyne + was made a fool of and got arrested. But I bet there’s one person in + Tuskingum that won’t have any remarks to make, and that’s Bittridge. Not, + as long as Dick’s there he won’t.” + </p> + <p> + “Lottie!” cried her mother, and her father started towards her, while + Ellen still sat patiently quiet. + </p> + <p> + “Oh, well!” Lottie submitted. “But if Dick was here I know this Trannel + wouldn’t get off so smoothly. Dick would give him a worse cowhiding than + he did Bittridge.” + </p> + <p> + Half the last word was lost in the bang of the door which Lottie slammed + behind her, leaving her father and mother to a silence which Ellen did not + offer to break. The judge had no heart to speak, in his dismay, and it was + Mrs. Kenton who took the word. + </p> + <p> + “Ellen,” she began, with compassionate gentleness, “we tried to keep it + from you. We knew how you would feel. But now we have got to tell you. + Dick did cowhide him when he got back to Tuskingum. Lottie wrote out to + Dick about it, how Mr. Bittridge had behaved in New York. Your father and + I didn’t approve of it, and Dick didn’t afterwards; but, yes, he did do + it.” + </p> + <p> + “I knew it, momma,” said Ellen, sadly. + </p> + <p> + “You knew it! How?” + </p> + <p> + “That other letter I got when we first came—it was from his mother.” + </p> + <p> + “Did she tell—” + </p> + <p> + “Yes. It was terrible she seemed to feel so. And I was sorry for her. I + thought I ought to answer it, and I did. I told her I was sorry, too. I + tried not to blame Richard. I don’t believe I did. And I tried not to + blame him. She was feeling badly enough without that.” + </p> + <p> + Her father and mother looked at each other; they did not speak, and she + asked, “Do you think I oughtn’t to have written?” + </p> + <p> + Her father answered, a little tremulously: “You did right, Ellen. And I am + sure that you did it in just the right way.” + </p> + <p> + “I tried to. I thought I wouldn’t worry you about it.” + </p> + <p> + She rose, and now her mother thought she was going to say that it put an + end to everything; that she must go back and offer herself as a sacrifice + to the injured Bittridges. Her mind had reverted to that moment on the + steamer when Ellen told her that nothing had reconciled her to what had + happened with Bittridge but the fact that all the wrong done had been done + to themselves; that this freed her. In her despair she could not forbear + asking, “What did you write to her, Ellen?” + </p> + <p> + “Nothing. I just said that I was very sorry, and that I knew how she felt. + I don’t remember exactly.” + </p> + <p> + She went up and kissed her mother. She seemed rather fatigued than + distressed, and her father asked her. “Are you going to bed, my dear?” + </p> + <p> + “Yes, I’m pretty tired, and I should think you would be, too, poppa. I’ll + speak to poor Boyne. Don’t mind Lottie. I suppose she couldn’t help saying + it.” She kissed her father, and slipped quietly into Boyne’s room, from + which they could hear her passing on to her own before they ventured to + say anything to each other in the hopeful bewilderment to which she had + left them. + </p> + <p> + “Well?” said the judge. + </p> + <p> + “Well?” Mrs. Kenton returned, in a note of exasperation, as if she were + not going to let herself be forced to the initiative. + </p> + <p> + “I thought you thought—” + </p> + <p> + “I did think that. Now I don’t know what to think. We have got to wait.” + </p> + <p> + “I’m willing to wait for Ellen!” + </p> + <p> + “She seems,” said Mrs. Kenton, “to have more sense than both the other + children put together, and I was afraid—” + </p> + <p> + “She might easily have more sense than Boyne, or Lottie, either.” + </p> + <p> + “Well, I don’t know,” Mrs. Kenton began. But she did not go on to resent + the disparagement which she had invited. “What I was afraid of was her + goodness. It was her goodness that got her into the trouble, to begin + with. If she hadn’t been so good, that fellow could never have fooled her + as he did. She was too innocent.” + </p> + <p> + The judge could not forbear the humorous view. “Perhaps she’s getting + wickeder, or not so innocent. At any rate, she doesn’t seem to have been + take in by Trannel.” + </p> + <p> + “He didn’t pay any attention to her. He was all taken up with Lottie.” + </p> + <p> + “Well, that was lucky. Sarah,” said the judge, “do you think he is like + Bittridge?” + </p> + <p> + “He’s made me think of him all the time.” + </p> + <p> + “It’s curious,” the judge mused. “I have always noticed how our faults + repeat themselves, but I didn’t suppose our fates would always take the + same shape, or something like it.” Mrs. Kenton stared at him. “When this + other one first made up to us on the boat my heart went down. I thought of + Bittridge so.” + </p> + <p> + “Mr. Breckon?” + </p> + <p> + “Yes, the same lightness; the same sort of trifling—Didn’t you + notice it?” + </p> + <p> + “No—yes, I noticed it. But I wasn’t afraid for an instant. I saw + that he was good.” + </p> + <p> + “Oh!” + </p> + <p> + “What I’m afraid of now is that Ellen doesn’t care anything about him.” + </p> + <p> + “He isn’t wicked enough?” + </p> + <p> + “I don’t say that. But it would be too much happiness to expect in one + short life.” + </p> + <p> + The judge could not deny the reasonableness of her position. He could only + oppose it. “Well, I don’t think we’ve had any more than our share of + happiness lately.” + </p> + <p> + No one except Boyne could have made Trannel’s behavior a cause of quarrel, + but the other Kentons made it a cause of coldness which was quite as + effective. In Lottie this took the form of something so active, so + positive, that it was something more than a mere absence of warmth. Before + she came clown to breakfast the next morning she studied a stare in her + mirror, and practised it upon Trannel so successfully when he came up to + speak to her that it must have made him doubt whether he had ever had her + acquaintance. In his doubt he ventured to address her, and then Lottie + turned her back upon him in a manner that was perfectly convincing. He + attempted a smiling ease with Mrs. Kenton and the judge, but they shared + neither his smile nor his ease, and his jocose questions about the end of + yesterday’s adventures, which he had not been privy to, did not seem to + appeal to the American sense of humor in them. Ellen was not with them, + nor Boyne, but Trannel was not asked to take either of the vacant places + at the table, even when Breckon took one of them, after a decent exchange + of civilities with him. He could only saunter away and leave Mrs. Kenton + to a little pang. + </p> + <p> + “Tchk!” she made. “I’m sorry for him!” + </p> + <p> + “So am I,” said the judge. “But he will get over it—only too soon, + I’m afraid. I don’t believe he’s very sorry for himself.” + </p> + <p> + They had not advised with Breckon, and he did not feel authorized to make + any comment. He seemed preoccupied, to Mrs. Kenton’s eye, when she turned + it upon him from Trannel’s discomfited back, lessening in the perspective, + and he answered vaguely to her overture about his night’s rest. Lottie + never made any conversation with Breckon, and she now left him to himself, + with some remnants of the disapproval which she found on her hands after + crushing Trannel. It could not be said that Breckon was aware of her + disapproval, and the judge had no apparent consciousness of it. He and + Breckon tried to make something of each other, but failed, and it all + seemed a very defeating sequel to Mrs. Kenton after the triumphal glow of + the evening before. When Lottie rose, she went with her, alleging her wish + to see if Boyne had eaten his breakfast. She confessed, to Breckon’s kind + inquiry, that Boyne did not seem very well, and that she had made him take + his breakfast in his room, and she did not think it necessary to own, even + to so friendly a witness as Mr. Breckon, that Boyne was ashamed to come + down, and dreaded meeting Trannel so much that she was giving him time to + recover his self-respect and courage. + </p> + <p> + <a name="link2H_4_0025" id="link2H_4_0025"> + <!-- H2 anchor --> </a> + </p> + <div style="height: 4em;"> + <br /><br /><br /><br /> + </div> + <h2> + XV. + </h2> + <p> + As soon as she and Lottie were gone Breckon began, rather more formidably + than he liked, but helplessly so: “Judge Kenton, I should be glad of a few + moments with you on—on an important—on a matter that is + important to me.” + </p> + <p> + “Well,” said the judge, cautiously. Whatever was coming, he wished to + guard himself from the mistake that he had once so nearly fallen into, and + that still made him catch his breath to think of. “How can I be of use to + you?” + </p> + <p> + “I don’t know that you can be of any use—I don’t know that I ought + to speak to you. But I thought you might perhaps save me from—save + my taking a false step.” + </p> + <p> + He looked at Kenton as if he would understand, and Kenton supposed that he + did. He said, “My daughter once mentioned your wish to talk with me.” + </p> + <p> + “Your daughter?” Breckon stared at him in stupefaction. + </p> + <p> + “Yes; Ellen. She said you wished to consult me about going back to your + charge in New York, when we were on the ship together. But I don’t know + that I’m very competent to give advice in such—” + </p> + <p> + “Oh!” Breckon exclaimed, in a tone of immense relief, which did not + continue itself in what he went on to say. “That! I’ve quite made up my + mind to go back.” He stopped, and then he burst out, “I want to speak with + you about her.” The judge sat steady, still resolute not to give himself + away, and the young man scarcely recovered from what had been a desperate + plunge in adding: “I know that it’s usual to speak with her—with the + lady herself first, but—I don’t know! The circumstances are + peculiar. You only know about me what you’ve seen of me, and I would + rather make my mistakes in the order that seems right to me, although it + isn’t just the American way.” + </p> + <p> + He smiled rather piteously, and the judge said, rather encouragingly, “I + don’t quite know whether I follow you.” + </p> + <p> + Breckon blushed, and sought help in what remained of his coffee. “The way + isn’t easy for me. But it’s this: I ask your leave to ask Miss Ellen to + marry me.” The worst was over now, and looked as if it were a relief. “She + is the most beautiful person in the world to me, and the best; but as you + know so little of me, I thought it right to get your leave—to tell + you—to—to—That is all.” He fell back in his chair and + looked a at Kenton. + </p> + <p> + “It is unusual,” the judge began. + </p> + <p> + “Yes, Yes; I know that. And for that reason I speak first to you. I’ll be + ruled by you implicitly.” + </p> + <p> + “I don’t mean that,” Kenton said. “I would have expected that you would + speak to her first. But I get your point of view, and I must say I think + you’re right. I think you are behaving—honorably. I wish that every + one was like you. But I can’t say anything now. I must talk with her + mother. My daughter’s life has not been happy. I can’t tell you. But as + far as I am concerned, and I think Mrs. Kenton, too, I would be glad—We + like you Mr. Breckon. We think you are a good man. + </p> + <p> + “Oh, thank you. I’m not so sure—” + </p> + <p> + “We’d risk it. But that isn’t all. Will you excuse me if I don’t say + anything more just yet—and if I leave you?” + </p> + <p> + “Why, certainly.” The judge had risen and pushed back his chair, and + Breckon did the same. “And I shall—hear from you?” + </p> + <p> + “Why, certainly,” said the judge in his turn. + </p> + <p> + “It isn’t possible that you put him off!” his wife reproached him, when he + told what had passed between him and Breckon. “Oh, you couldn’t have let + him think that we didn’t want him for her! Surely you didn’t!” + </p> + <p> + “Will you get it into your head,” he flamed back, “that he hasn’t spoken + to Ellen yet, and I couldn’t accept him till she had?” + </p> + <p> + “Oh yes. I forgot that.” Mrs. Kenton struggled with the fact, in the + difficulty of realizing so strange an order of procedure. “I suppose it’s + his being educated abroad that way. But, do go back to him, Rufus, and + tell him that of course—” + </p> + <p> + “I will do nothing of the kind, Sarah! What are you thinking of?” + </p> + <p> + “Oh, I don’t know what I’m thinking of! I must see Ellen, I suppose. I’ll + go to her now. Oh, dear, if she doesn’t—if she lets such a chance + slip through her fingers—But she’s quite likely to, she’s so + obstinate! I wonder what she’ll want us to do.” + </p> + <p> + She fled to her daughter’s room and found Boyne there, sitting beside his + sister’s bed, giving her a detailed account of his adventure of the day + before, up to the moment Mr. Breckon met him, in charge of the detectives. + Up to that moment, it appeared to Boyne, as nearly as he could recollect, + that he had not broken down, but had behaved himself with a dignity which + was now beginning to clothe his whole experience. In the retrospect, a + quiet heroism characterized his conduct, and at the moment his mother + entered the room he was questioning Ellen as to her impressions of his + bearing when she first saw him in the grasp of the detectives. + </p> + <p> + His mother took him by the arm, and said, “I want to speak with Ellen, + Boyne,” and put him out of the door. + </p> + <p> + Then she came back and sat down in his chair. “Ellen. Mr. Breckon has been + speaking to your father. Do you know what about?” + </p> + <p> + “About his going back to New York?” the girl suggested. + </p> + <p> + Her mother kept her patience with difficulty. “No, not about that. About + you! He’s asked your father—I can’t understand yet why he did it, + only he’s so delicate and honorable, and goodness known we appreciate it—whether + he can tell you that—that—” It was not possible for such a + mother as Mrs. Kenton to say “He loves you”; it would have sounded as she + would have said, too sickish, and she compromised on: “He likes you, and + wants to ask you whether you will marry him. And, Ellen,” she continued, + in the ample silence which followed, “if you don’t say you will, I will + have nothing more to do With such a simpleton. I have always felt that you + behaved very foolishly about Mr. Bittridge, but I hoped that when you grew + older you would see it as we did, and—and behave differently. And + now, if, after all we’ve been through with you, you are going to say that + you won’t have Mr. Breckon—” + </p> + <p> + Mrs. Kenton stopped for want of a figure that would convey all the + disaster that would fall upon Ellen in such an event, and she was given + further pause when the girl gently answered, “I’m not going to say that, + momma.” + </p> + <p> + “Then what in the world are you going to say?” Mrs. Kenton demanded. + </p> + <p> + Ellen had turned her face away on the pillow, and now she answered, + quietly, “When Mr. Breckon asks me I will tell him.” + </p> + <p> + “Well, you had better!” her mother threatened in return, and she did not + realize the falsity of her position till she reported Ellen’s words to the + judge. + </p> + <p> + “Well, Sarah, I think she had you there,” he said, and Mrs. Kenton then + said that she did not care, if the child was only going to behave sensibly + at last, and she did believe she was. + </p> + <p> + “Then it’s all right” said the judge, and he took up the Tuskingum + Intelligencer, lying till then unread in the excitements which had + followed its arrival the day before, and began to read it. + </p> + <p> + Mrs. Kenton sat dreamily watching him, with her hands fallen in her lap. + She suddenly started up, with the cry, “Good gracious! What are we all + thinking of?” + </p> + <p> + Kenton stared at her over the top of his paper. “How, thinking of?” + </p> + <p> + “Why Mr. Breckon! He must be crazy to know what we’ve decided, poor + fellow!” + </p> + <p> + “Oh,” said the judge, folding the Intelligencer on his knee. “I had + forgotten. Somehow, I thought it was all settled.” + </p> + <p> + Mrs. Kenton took his paper from him, and finished folding it. “It hasn’t + begun to be settled. You must go and let him know.” + </p> + <p> + “Won’t he look me up?” the judge suggested. + </p> + <p> + “You must look him up. Go at once dear! Think how anxious he must be!” + </p> + <p> + Kenton was not sure that Breckon looked very anxious when he found him on + the brick promenade before the Kurhaus, apparently absorbed in noting the + convulsions of a large, round German lady in the water, who must have + supposed herself to be bathing. But perhaps the young man did not see her; + the smile on his face was too vague for such an interest when he turned at + Kenton’s approaching steps. + </p> + <p> + The judge hesitated for an instant, in which the smile left Breckon’s + face. “I believe that’s all right, Mr. Breckon,” he said. “You’ll find + Mrs. Kenton in our parlor,” and then the two men parted, with an “Oh, + thank you!” from Breckon, who walked back towards the hotel, and left + Kenton to ponder upon the German lady; as soon as he realized that she was + not a barrel, the judge continued his walk along the promenade, feeling + rather ashamed. + </p> + <p> + Mrs. Kenton had gone to Ellen’s room again when she had got the judge off + upon his mission. She rather flung in upon her. “Oh, you are up!” she + apologized to Ellen’s back. The girl’s face was towards the glass, and she + was tilting her head to get the effect of the hat on it, which she now + took off. + </p> + <p> + “I suppose poppa’s gone to tell him,” she said, sitting tremulously down. + </p> + <p> + “Didn’t you want him to?” her mother asked, stricken a little at sight of + her agitation. + </p> + <p> + “Yes, I wanted him to, but that doesn’t make it any easier. It makes it + harder. Momma!” + </p> + <p> + “Well, Ellen?” + </p> + <p> + “You know you’ve got to tell him, first.” + </p> + <p> + “Tell him?” Mrs. Kenton repeated, but she knew what Ellen meant. + </p> + <p> + “About—Mr. Bittridge. All about it. Every single thing. About his + kissing me that night.” + </p> + <p> + At the last demand Mrs. Kenton was visibly shaken in her invisible assent + to the girl’s wish. “Don’t you think, Ellen, that you had better tell him + that—some time?” + </p> + <p> + “No, now. And you must tell him. You let me go to the theatre with him.” + The faintest shadow of resentment clouded the girl’s face, but still Mrs. + Kenton, thought she knew her own guilt, could not yield. + </p> + <p> + “Why, Ellen,” she pleaded, not without a reproachful sense of vulgarity in + such a plea, “don’t you suppose HE ever—kissed any one?” + </p> + <p> + “That doesn’t concern me, momma,” said Ellen, without a trace of + consciousness that she was saying anything uncommon. “If you won’t tell + him, then that ends it. I won’t see him.” + </p> + <p> + “Oh, well!” her mother sighed. “I will try to tell him. But I’d rather be + whipped. I know he’ll laugh at me.” + </p> + <p> + “He won’t laugh at you,” said the girl, confidently, almost comfortingly. + “I want him to know everything before I meet him. I don’t want to have a + single thing on my mind. I don’t want to think of myself!” + </p> + <p> + Mrs. Kenton understood the woman—soul that spoke in these words. + “Well,” she said, with a deep, long breath, “be ready, then.” + </p> + <p> + But she felt the burden which had been put upon her to be so much more + than she could bear that when she found her husband in their parlor she + instantly resolved to cast it upon him. He stood at the window with his + hat on. + </p> + <p> + “Has Breckon been here yet?” he asked. + </p> + <p> + “Have you seen him yet?” she returned. + </p> + <p> + “Yes, and I thought he was coming right here. But perhaps he stopped to + screw his courage up. He only knew how little it needed with us!” + </p> + <p> + “Well, now, it’s we who’ve got to have the courage. Or you have. Do you + know what Ellen wants to have done?” Mrs. Kenton put it in these + impersonal terms, and as a preliminary to shirking her share of the + burden. + </p> + <p> + “She doesn’t want to have him refused?” + </p> + <p> + “She wants to have him told all about Bittridge.” + </p> + <p> + After a momentary revolt the judge said, “Well, that’s right. It’s like + Ellen.” + </p> + <p> + “There’s something else that’s more like her,” said Mrs. Kenton, + indignantly. “She wants him to told about what Bittridge did that night—about + him kissing her.” + </p> + <p> + The judge looked disgusted with his wife for the word; then he looked + aghast. “About—” + </p> + <p> + “Yes, and she won’t have a word to say to him till he is told, and unless + he is told she will refuse him.” + </p> + <p> + “Did she say that?” + </p> + <p> + “No, but I know she will.” + </p> + <p> + “If she didn’t say she would, I think we may take the chances that she + won’t.” + </p> + <p> + “No, we mustn’t take any such chances. You must tell him.” + </p> + <p> + “I? No, I couldn’t manage it. I have no tact, and it would sound so + confoundedly queer, coming from one man to another. It would be—indelicate. + It’s something that nobody but a woman—Why doesn’t she tell him + herself?” + </p> + <p> + “She won’t. She considers it our part, and something we ought to do before + he commits himself.” + </p> + <p> + “Very well, then, Sarah, you must tell him. You can manage it so it won’t + by so—queer. + </p> + <p> + “That is just what I supposed you would say, Mr. Kenton, but I must say I + didn’t expect it of you. I think it’s cowardly.” + </p> + <p> + “Look out, Sarah! I don’t like that word.” + </p> + <p> + “Oh, I suppose you’re brave enough when it comes to any kind of danger. + But when it comes to taking the brunt of anything unpleasant—” + </p> + <p> + “It isn’t unpleasant—it’s queer.” + </p> + <p> + “Why do you keep saying that over and over? There’s nothing queer about + it. It’s Ellenish but isn’t it right?” + </p> + <p> + “It’s right, yes, I suppose. But it’s squeamish.” + </p> + <p> + “I see nothing squeamish about it. But I know you’re determined to leave + it to me, and so I shall do it. I don’t believe Mr. Breckon will think + it’s queer or squeamish.” + </p> + <p> + “I’ve no doubt he’ll take it in the right way; you’ll know how to—” + Kenton looked into his hat, which he had taken off and then put it on + again. His tone and his manner were sufficiently sneaking, and he could + not make them otherwise. It was for this reason, no doubt, that he would + not prolong the interview. + </p> + <p> + “Oh yes, go!” said Mrs. Kenton, as he found himself with his hand on the + door. “Leave it all to me, do!” and he was aware of skulking out of the + room. By the time that it would have taken him so long as to walk to the + top of the grand stairway he was back again. “He’s coming!” he said, + breathlessly. “I saw him at the bottom of the stairs. Go into your room + and wash your eyes. I’LL tell him.” + </p> + <p> + “No, no, Rufus! Let me! It will be much better. You’ll be sure to bungle + it.” + </p> + <p> + “We must risk that. You were quite right, Sarah. It would have been + cowardly in me to let you do it.” + </p> + <p> + “Rufus! You know I didn’t mean it! Surely you’re not resenting that?” + </p> + <p> + “No. I’m glad you made me see it. You’re all right, Sarah, and you’ll find + that it will all come out all right. You needn’t be afraid I’ll bungle it. + I shall use discretion. Go—” + </p> + <p> + “I shall not stir a step from this parlor! You’ve got back all your + spirit, dear,” said the old wife, with young pride in her husband. “But I + must say that Ellen is putting more upon you than she has any right to. I + think she might tell him herself.” + </p> + <p> + “No, it’s our business—my business. We allowed her to get in for it. + She’s quite right about it. We must not let him commit himself to her till + he knows the thing that most puts her to shame. It isn’t enough for us to + say that it was really no shame. She feels that it casts a sort of stain—you + know what I mean, Sarah, and I believe I can make this young man know. If + I can’t, so much the worse for him. He shall never see Ellen again.” + </p> + <p> + “Oh, Rufus!” + </p> + <p> + “Do you think he would be worthy of her if he couldn’t?” + </p> + <p> + “I think Ellen is perfectly ridiculous.” + </p> + <p> + “Then that shows that I am right in deciding not to leave this thing to + you. I feel as she does about it, and I intend that he shall.” + </p> + <p> + “Do you intend to let her run the chance of losing him?” + </p> + <p> + “That is what I intend to do.” + </p> + <p> + “Well, then, I’ll tell you what: I am going to stay right here. We will + both see him; it’s right for us to do it.” But at a rap on the parlor door + Mrs. Kenton flew to that of her own room, which she closed upon her with a + sort of Parthian whimper, “Oh, do be careful, Rufus!” + </p> + <p> + Whether Kenton was careful or not could never be known, from either Kenton + himself or from Breckon. The judge did tell him everything, and the young + man received the most damning details of Ellen’s history with a radiant + absence which testified that they fell upon a surface sense of Kenton, and + did not penetrate to the all-pervading sense of Ellen herself below. At + the end Kenton was afraid he had not understood. + </p> + <p> + “You understand,” he said, “that she could not consent to see you before + you knew just how weak she thought she had been.” The judge stiffened to + defiance in making this humiliation. “I don’t consider, myself, that she + was weak at all.” + </p> + <p> + “Of course not!” Breckon beamed back at him. + </p> + <p> + “I consider that throughout she acted with the greatest—greatest—And + that in that affair, when he behaved with that—that outrageous + impudence, it was because she had misled the scoundrel by her kindness, + her forbearance, her wish not to do him the least shadow of injustice, but + to give him every chance of proving himself worthy of her tolerance; and—” + </p> + <p> + The judge choked, and Breckon eagerly asked, “And shall I—may I see + her now?” + </p> + <p> + “Why—yes,” the judge faltered. “If you’re sure—” + </p> + <p> + “What about?” Breckon demanded. + </p> + <p> + “I don’t know whether she will believe that I have told you.” + </p> + <p> + “I will try to convince her. Where shall I see her?” + </p> + <p> + “I will go and tell her you are here. I will bring her—” + </p> + <p> + Kenton passed into the adjoining room, where his wife laid hold of him, + almost violently. “You did it beautifully, Rufus,” she huskily whispered, + “and I was so afraid you would spoil everything. Oh, how manly you were, + and how perfect he was! But now it’s my turn, and I will go and bring + Ellen—You will let me, won’t you?” + </p> + <p> + “You may do anything you please, Sarah. I don’t want to have any more of + this,” said the judge from the chair he had dropped into. + </p> + <p> + “Well, then, I will bring her at once,” said Mrs. Kenton, staying only in + her gladness to kiss him on his gray head; he received her embrace with a + superficial sultriness which did not deceive her. + </p> + <p> + Ellen came back without her mother, and as soon as she entered the room, + and Breckon realized that she had come alone, he ran towards her as if to + take her in his arms. But she put up her hand with extended fingers, and + held him lightly off. + </p> + <p> + “Did poppa tell you?” she asked, with a certain defiance. She held her + head up fiercely, and spoke steadily, but he could see the pulse beating + in her pretty neck. + </p> + <p> + “Yes, he told me—” + </p> + <p> + “And—well?” + </p> + <p> + “Oh, I love you, Ellen—” + </p> + <p> + “That isn’t it. Did you care?” + </p> + <p> + Breckon had an inspiration, an inspiration from the truth that dwelt at + the bottom of his soul and had never yet failed to save him. He let his + arms fall and answered, desperately: “Yes, I did. I wished it hadn’t + happened.” He saw the pulse in her neck cease to beat, and he swiftly + added, “But I know that it happened just because you were yourself, and + were so—” + </p> + <p> + “If you had said you didn’t care,” she breathlessly whispered, “I would + never have spoken to you.” He felt a conditional tremor creeping into the + fingers which had been so rigid against his breast. “I don’t see how I + lived through it! Do you think you can?” + </p> + <p> + “I think so,” he returned, with a faint, far suggestion of levity that + brought from her an imperative, imploring— + </p> + <p> + “Don’t!” + </p> + <p> + Then he added, solemnly, “It had no more to do with you, Ellen, than an + offence from some hateful animal—” + </p> + <p> + “Oh, how good you are!” The fingers folded themselves, and her arms + weakened so that there was nothing to keep him from drawing her to him. + “What—what are you doing?” she asked, with her face smothered + against his. + </p> + <p> + “Oh, Ell-en, Ellen, Ellen! Oh, my love, my dearest, my best!” + </p> + <p> + “But I have been such a fool!” she protested, imagining that she was going + to push him from her, but losing herself in him more and more. + </p> + <p> + “Yes, yes, darling! I know it. That’s why I love you so!” + </p> + <p> + <a name="link2H_4_0026" id="link2H_4_0026"> + <!-- H2 anchor --> </a> + </p> + <div style="height: 4em;"> + <br /><br /><br /><br /> + </div> + <h2> + XXVI. + </h2> + <p> + “There is just one thing,” said the judge, as he wound up his watch that + night, “that makes me a little uneasy still.” + </p> + <p> + Mrs. Kenton, already in her bed turned her face upon him with a despairing + “Tchk! Dear! What is it? I thought we had talked over everything.” + </p> + <p> + “We haven’t got Lottie’s consent yet.” + </p> + <p> + “Well, I think I see myself asking Lottie!” Mrs. Kenton began, before she + realized her husband’s irony. She added, “How could you give me such a + start?” + </p> + <p> + “Well, Lottie has bossed us so long that I couldn’t help mentioning it,” + said the judge. + </p> + <p> + It was a lame excuse, and in its most potential implication his suggestion + proved without reason. If Lottie never gave her explicit approval to + Ellen’s engagement, she never openly opposed it. She treated it, rather, + with something like silent contempt, as a childish weakness on Ellen’s + part which was beneath her serious consideration. Towards Breckon, her + behavior hardly changed in the severity which she had assumed from the + moment she first ceased to have any use for him. “I suppose I will have to + kiss him,” she said, gloomily, when her mother told her that he was to be + her brother, and she performed the rite with as much coldness as was ever + put in that form of affectionate welcome. It is doubtful if Breckon + perfectly realized its coldness; he never knew how much he enraged her by + acting as if she were a little girl, and saying lightly, almost trivially, + “I’m so glad you’re going to be a sister to me.” + </p> + <p> + With Ellen, Lottie now considered herself quits, and from the first hour + of Ellen’s happiness she threw off all the care with all the apparent + kindness which she had used towards her when she was a morbid invalid. + Here again, if Lottie had minded such a thing, she might have been as much + vexed by Ellen’s attitude as by Breckon’s. Ellen never once noticed the + withdrawal of her anxious oversight, or seemed in the least to miss it. As + much as her meek nature would allow, she arrogated to herself the + privileges and prerogatives of an elder sister, and if it had been + possible to make Lottie ever feel like a chit, there were moments when + Ellen’s behavior would have made her feel like a chit. It was not till + after their return to Tuskingum that Lottie took her true place in + relation to the affair, and in the preparations for the wedding, which she + appointed to be in the First Universalist Church, overruling both her + mother’s and sister’s preferences for a home wedding, that Lottie rose in + due authority. Mrs. Kenton had not ceased to feel quelled whenever her + younger daughter called her mother instead of momma, and Ellen seemed not + really to care. She submitted the matter to Breckon, who said, “Oh yes, if + Lottie wishes,” and he laughed when Ellen confessed, “Well, I said we + would.” + </p> + <p> + With the lifting of his great anxiety, he had got back to that lightness + which was most like him, and he could not always conceal from Lottie + herself that he regarded her as a joke. She did not mind it, she said, + from such a mere sop as, in the vast content of his love, he was. + </p> + <p> + This was some months after Lottie had got at Scheveningen from Mr. + Plumpton that letter which decided her that she had no use for him. There + came the same day, and by the same post with it, a letter from one of her + young men in Tuskingum, who had faithfully written to her all the winter + before, and had not intermitted his letters after she went abroad. To + Kenton he had always seemed too wise if not too good for Lottie, but Mrs. + Kenton, who had her own doubts of Lottie, would not allow this when it + came to the question, and said, woundedly, that she did not see why Lottie + was not fully his equal in every way. + </p> + <p> + “Well,” the judge suggested, “she isn’t the first young lawyer at the + Tuskingum bar.” + </p> + <p> + “Well, I wouldn’t wish her to be,” said Mrs. Kenton, who did not often + make jokes. + </p> + <p> + “Well, I don’t know that I would,” her husband assented, and he added, + “Pretty good, Sarah.” + </p> + <p> + “Lottie,” her mother summed up, “is practical, and she is very neat. She + won’t let Mr. Elroy go around looking so slovenly. I hope she will make + him have his hair cut, and not look as if it were bitten off. And I don’t + believe he’s had his boots blacked since—” + </p> + <p> + “He was born,” the judge proposed, and she assented. + </p> + <p> + “Yes. She is very saving, and he is wasteful. It will be a very good + match. You can let them build on the other corner of the lot, if Ellen is + going to be in New York. I would miss Lottie more than Ellen about the + housekeeping, though the dear knows I will miss them both badly enough.” + </p> + <p> + “Well, you can break off their engagements,” said the judge. + </p> + <p> + As yet, and until Ellen was off her hands, Lottie would not allow Mr. + Elroy to consider himself engaged to her. His conditional devotion did not + debar him from a lover’s rights, and, until Breckon came on from New York + to be married, there was much more courtship of Lottie than of Ellen in + the house. But Lottie saved herself in the form if not the fact, and as + far as verbal terms were concerned, she was justified by them in declaring + that she would not have another sop hanging round. + </p> + <p> + It was Boyne, and Boyne alone, who had any misgivings in regard to Ellen’s + engagement, and these were of a nature so recondite that when he came to + impart them to his mother, before they left Scheveningen, and while there + was yet time for that conclusion which his father suggested to Mrs. Kenton + too late, Boyne had an almost hopeless difficulty in stating them. His + approaches, even, were so mystical that his mother was forced to bring him + to book sharply. + </p> + <p> + “Boyne, if you don’t tell me right off just what you mean, I don’t know + what I will do to you! What are you driving at, for pity’s sake? Are you + saying that she oughtn’t to be engaged to Mr. Breckon?” + </p> + <p> + “No, I’m not saying that, momma,” said Boyne, in a distress that caused + his mother to take a reef in her impatience. + </p> + <p> + “Well, what are you saying, then?” + </p> + <p> + “Why, you know how Ellen is, momma. You know how conscientious and—and—sensitive. + Or, I don’t mean sensitive, exactly.” + </p> + <p> + “Well?” + </p> + <p> + “Well, I don’t think she ought to be engaged to Mr. Breckon out of—gratitude.” + </p> + <p> + “Gratitude?” + </p> + <p> + “Yes. I just know that she thinks—or it would be just like her—that + he saved me that day. But he only met me about a second before we came to + her and poppa, and the officers were taking me right along towards them.” + Mrs. Kenton held herself stormily in, and he continued: “I know that he + translated for us before the magistrate, but the magistrate could speak a + little English, and when he saw poppa he saw that it was all right, + anyway. I don’t want to say anything against Mr. Breckon, and I think he + behaved as well any one could; but if Ellen is going to marry him out of + gratitude for saving me—” + </p> + <p> + Mrs. Kenton could hold in no longer. “And is this what you’ve been + bothering the life half out of me for, for the last hour?” + </p> + <p> + “Well, I thought you ought to look at it in that light, momma.” + </p> + <p> + “Well, Boyne,” said his mother, “sometimes I think you’re almost a fool!” + and she turned her back upon her son and left him. + </p> + <p> + Boyne’s place in the Kenton family, for which he continued to have the + highest regard, became a little less difficult, a little less incompatible + with his self-respect as time went on. His spirit, which had lagged a + little after his body in stature, began, as his father said, to catch up. + He no longer nourished it so exclusively upon heroical romance as he had + during the past year, and after his return to Tuskingum he went into his + brother Richard’s once, and manifested a certain curiosity in the study of + the law. He read Blackstone, and could give a fair account of his + impressions of English law to his father. He had quite outlived the period + of entomological research, and he presented his collections of insects + (somewhat moth-eaten) to his nephew, on whom he also bestowed his + postage-stamp album; Mary Kenton accepted them in trust, the nephew being + of yet too tender years for their care. In the preoccupations of his + immediate family with Ellen’s engagement, Boyne became rather close + friends with his sister-in-law, and there were times when he was tempted + to submit to her judgment the question whether the young Queen of Holland + did not really beckon to him that day. But pending the hour when he + foresaw that Lottie should come out with the whole story, in some instant + of excitement, Boyne had not quite the heart to speak of his experience. + It assumed more and more respectability with him, and lost that squalor + which had once put him to shame while it was yet new. He thought that Mary + might be reasoned into regarding him as the hero of an adventure, but he + is still hesitating whether to confide in her. In the meantime she knows + all about it. Mary and Richard both approved of Ellen’s choice, though + they are somewhat puzzled to make out just what Mr. Breckon’s religion is, + and what his relations to his charge in New York may be. These do not seem + to them quite pastoral, and he himself shares their uncertainty. But since + his flock does not include Mrs. Rasmith and her daughter, he is content to + let the question remain in abeyance. The Rasmiths are settled in Rome with + an apparent permanency which they have not known elsewhere for a long + time, and they have both joined in the friendliest kind of letter on his + marriage to their former pastor, if that was what Breckon was. They have + professed to know from the first that he was in love with Ellen, and that + he is in love with her now is the strong present belief of his flock, if + they are a flock, and if they may be said to have anything so positive as + a belief in regard to anything. + </p> + <p> + Judge Kenton has given the Elroys the other corner of the lot, and has + supplied them the means of building on it. Mary and Lottie run diagonally + into the home-house every day, and nothing keeps either from coming into + authority over the old people except the fear of each other in which they + stand. The Kentons no longer make any summer journeys, but in the winter + they take Boyne and go to see Ellen in New York. They do not stay so long + as Mrs. Kenton would like. As soon as they have fairly seen the Breckons, + and have settled comfortably down in their pleasant house on West + Seventy-fourth Street, she detects him in a secret habit of sighing, which + she recognizes as the worst symptom of homesickness, and then she confides + to Ellen that she supposes Mr. Kenton will make her go home with him + before long. Ellen knows it is useless to interfere. She even encourages + her father’s longings, so far as indulging his clandestine visits to the + seedsman’s, and she goes with him to pick up second-hand books about Ohio + in the War at the dealers’, who remember the judge very flatteringly. + </p> + <p> + As February draws on towards March it becomes impossible to detain Kenton. + His wife and son return with him to Tuskingum, where Lottie has seen to + the kindling of a good fire in the furnace against their arrival, and has + nearly come to blows with Mary about provisioning them for the first + dinner. Then Mrs. Kenton owns, with a comfort which she will not let her + husband see, that there is no place like home, and they take up their life + in the place where they have been so happy and so unhappy. He reads to her + a good deal at night, and they play a game of checkers usually before they + go to bed; she still cheats without scruple, for, as she justly says, he + knows very well that she cannot bear to be beaten. + </p> + <p> + The colonel, as he is still invariably known to his veterans, works pretty + faithfully at the regimental autobiography, and drives round the country, + picking up material among them, in a buggy plastered with mud. He has + imagined, since his last visit to Breckon, who dictates his sermons, if + they are sermons, taking a stenographer with him, and the young lady, who + is in deadly terror of the colonel’s driving, is of the greatest use to + him, in the case of veterans who will not or cannot give down (as they say + in their dairy-country parlance), and has already rescued many + reminiscences from perishing in their faltering memories. She writes them + out in the judge’s library when the colonel gets home, and his wife + sometimes surprises Mr. Kenton correcting them there at night after she + supposes he has gone to bed. + </p> + <p> + Since it has all turned out for the best concerning Bittridge, she no + longer has those pangs of self-reproach for Richard’s treatment of him + which she suffered while afraid that if the fact came to Ellen’s knowledge + it might make her refuse Breckon. She does not find her daughter’s + behavior in the matter so anomalous as it appears to the judge. + </p> + <p> + He is willing to account for it on the ground of that inconsistency which + he has observed in all human behavior, but Mrs. Kenton is not inclined to + admit that it is so very inconsistent. She contends that Ellen had simply + lived through that hateful episode of her psychological history, as she + was sure to do sooner or later and as she was destined to do as soon as + some other person arrived to take her fancy. + </p> + <p> + If this is the crude, common-sense view of the matter, Ellen herself is + able to offer no finer explanation, which shall at the same time be more + thorough. She and her husband have not failed to talk the affair over, + with that fulness of treatment which young married people give their past + when they have nothing to conceal from each other. She has attempted to + solve the mystery by blaming herself for a certain essential levity of + nature which, under all her appearance of gravity, sympathized with levity + in others, and, for what she knows to the contrary, with something ignoble + and unworthy in them. Breckon, of course, does not admit this, but he has + suggested that she was first attracted to him by a certain unseriousness + which reminded her of Bittridge, in enabling him to take her seriousness + lightly. This is the logical inference which he makes from her theory of + herself, but she insists that it does not follow; and she contends that + she was moved to love him by an instant sense of his goodness, which she + never lost, and in which she was trying to equal herself with him by even + the desperate measure of renouncing her happiness, if that should ever + seem her duty, to his perfection. He says this is not very clear, though + it is awfully gratifying, and he does not quite understand why Mrs. + Bittridge’s letter should have liberated Ellen from her fancied + obligations to the past. Ellen can only say that it did so by making her + so ashamed ever to have had anything to do with such people, and making + her see how much she had tried her father and mother by her folly. This + again Breckon contends is not clear, but he says we live in a universe of + problems in which another, more or less, does not much matter. He is + always expecting that some chance shall confront him with Bittridge, and + that the man’s presence will explain everything; for, like so many Ohio + people who leave their native State, the Bittridges have come East instead + of going West, in quitting the neighborhood of Tuskingum. He is settled + with his idolized mother in New York, where he is obscurely attached to + one of the newspapers. That he has as yet failed to rise from the ranks in + the great army of assignment men may be because moral quality tells + everywhere, and to be a clever blackguard is not so well as to be simply + clever. If ever Breckon has met his alter ego, as he amuses himself in + calling him, he has not known it, though Bittridge may have been wiser in + the case of a man of Breckon’s publicity, not to call it distinction. + There was a time, immediately after the Breckons heard from Tuskingum that + the Bittridges were in New York, when Ellen’s husband consulted her as to + what might be his duty towards her late suitor in the event which has not + taken place, and when he suggested, not too seriously, that Richard’s + course might be the solution. To his suggestion Ellen answered: “Oh no, + dear! That was wrong,” and this remains also Richard’s opinion. + </p> + <p> + <a name="link2H_4_0027" id="link2H_4_0027"> + <!-- H2 anchor --> </a> + </p> + <div style="height: 4em;"> + <br /><br /><br /><br /> + </div> + <h2> + PG EDITOR’S BOOKMARKS: + </h2> + <div class="mynote"> +<pre xml:space="preserve"> + A nature which all modesty and deference seemed left out of + All but took the adieus out of Richard’s hands + Americans spoil their women! “Well, their women are worth it” + An inscrutable frown goes far in such exigencies + Another problem, more or less, does not much matter + Certain comfort in their mutual discouragement + Conscience to own the fact and the kindness to deny it + Fatuity of a man in such things + Fatuity of age regarding all the things of the past + Fertile in difficulties and so importunate for their solution + Girl is never so much in danger of having her heart broken + Good comrades, as elderly married people are apt to be + He was too little used to deference from ladies + Impart their sufferings as well as their pleasures to each other + Know more of their clothes than the people they buy them of + Learning to ask her no questions about herself + Left him alone to the first ecstasy of his homesickness + Living in the present + Melting into pity against all sense of duty + Misgiving of a blessed immortality + More faith in her wisdom than she had herself + More helpful with trouble to be ignorant of its cause + Not find more harm in them, if you did not bring it with you + Not what their mothers but what their environments made them + Pain of the preparations for a day’s pleasure + Part of her pride not to ask + Performance of their common duty must fall wholly to her + Petted person in her youth, perhaps, and now she petted herself + Place where they have been so happy and so unhappy + Provoked that her mother would not provoke her further + Question whether the fellow was more a fool or a fraud + Relationship when one gives a reproof and the other accepts it + Relieved from a discoverer’s duties to Europe + Renunciation of his judgment in deference to the good woman + Waiting with patience for the term of his exile + We have to make-believe before we can believe anything + When he got so far beyond his depth + Why, at his age, should he be going into exile + Wife was glad of the release from housekeeping + Worst whim was having no wish that could be ascertained +</pre> + <br /> + </div> +<pre xml:space="preserve"> + + + + + +End of the Project Gutenberg EBook of The Kentons, by William Dean Howells + +*** END OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK THE KENTONS *** + +***** This file should be named 3362-h.htm or 3362-h.zip ***** +This and all associated files of various formats will be found in: + https://www.gutenberg.org/3/3/6/3362/ + +Produced by David Widger + + +Updated editions will replace the previous one--the old editions +will be renamed. + +Creating the works from public domain print editions means that no +one owns a United States copyright in these works, so the Foundation +(and you!) can copy and distribute it in the United States without +permission and without paying copyright royalties. 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You may copy it, give it away or +re-use it under the terms of the Project Gutenberg License included +with this eBook or online at www.gutenberg.org + + +Title: The Kentons + +Author: William Dean Howells + +Last Updated: February 25, 2009 +Release Date: September 1, 2006 [EBook #3362] + +Language: English + +Character set encoding: ASCII + +*** START OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK THE KENTONS *** + + + +Produced by David Widger + + + + + +THE KENTONS + + +By William Dean Howells + + + + +I. + +The Kentons were not rich, but they were certainly richer than the +average in the pleasant county town of the Middle West, where they had +spent nearly their whole married life. As their circumstances had +grown easier, they had mellowed more and more in the keeping of their +comfortable home, until they hated to leave it even for the short +outings, which their children made them take, to Niagara or the Upper +Lakes in the hot weather. They believed that they could not be so well +anywhere as in the great square brick house which still kept its four +acres about it, in the heart of the growing town, where the trees +they had planted with their own hands topped it on three aides, and a +spacious garden opened southward behind it to the summer wind. Kenton +had his library, where he transacted by day such law business as he had +retained in his own hands; but at night he liked to go to his wife's +room and sit with her there. They left the parlors and piazzas to their +girls, where they could hear them laughing with the young fellows who +came to make the morning calls, long since disused in the centres of +fashion, or the evening calls, scarcely more authorized by the great +world. She sewed, and he read his paper in her satisfactory silence, or +they played checkers together. She did not like him to win, and when she +found herself unable to bear the prospect of defeat, she refused to let +him make the move that threatened the safety of her men. Sometimes +he laughed at her, and sometimes he scolded, but they were very good +comrades, as elderly married people are apt to be. They had long ago +quarrelled out their serious differences, which mostly arose from +such differences of temperament as had first drawn them together; they +criticised each other to their children from time to time, but they +atoned for this defection by complaining of the children to each other, +and they united in giving way to them on all points concerning their +happiness, not to say their pleasure. + +They had both been teachers in their youth before he went into the war, +and they had not married until he had settled himself in the practice +of the law after he left the army. He was then a man of thirty, and five +years older than she; five children were born to them, but the second +son died when he was yet a babe in his mother's arms, and there was an +interval of six years between the first boy and the first girl. Their +eldest son was already married, and settled next them in a house which +was brick, like their own, but not square, and had grounds so much less +ample that he got most of his vegetables from their garden. He had grown +naturally into a share of his father's law practice, and he had taken it +all over when Renton was elected to the bench. He made a show of giving +it back after the judge retired, but by that time Kenton was well on in +the fifties. The practice itself had changed, and had become mainly the +legal business of a large corporation. In this form it was distasteful +to him; he kept the affairs of some of his old clients in his hands, but +he gave much of his time, which he saved his self-respect by calling his +leisure, to a history of his regiment in-the war. + +In his later life he had reverted to many of the preoccupations of his +youth, and he believed that Tuskingum enjoyed the best climate, on +the whole, in the union; that its people of mingled Virginian, +Pennsylvanian, and Connecticut origin, with little recent admixture of +foreign strains, were of the purest American stock, and spoke the +best English in the world; they enjoyed obviously the greatest sum of +happiness, and had incontestibly the lowest death rate and divorce rate +in the State. The growth of the place was normal and healthy; it had +increased only to five thousand during the time he had known it, which +was almost an ideal figure for a county-town. There was a higher average +of intelligence than in any other place of its size, and a wider and +evener diffusion of prosperity. Its record in the civil war was less +brilliant, perhaps, than that of some other localities, but it was +fully up to the general Ohio level, which was the high-water mark of the +national achievement in the greatest war of the greatest people under +the sun. It, was Kenton's pride and glory that he had been a part of the +finest army known in history. He believed that the men who made history +ought to write it, and in his first Commemoration-Day oration he urged +his companions in arms to set down everything they could remember of +their soldiering, and to save the letters they had written home, so +that they might each contribute to a collective autobiography of the +regiment. It was only in this way, he held, that the intensely personal +character of the struggle could be recorded. He had felt his way to the +fact that every battle is essentially episodical, very campaign a sum of +fortuities; and it was not strange that he should suppose, with his +want of perspective, that this universal fact was purely national and +American. His zeal made him the repository of a vast mass of material +which he could not have refused to keep for the soldiers who brought it +to him, more or less in a humorous indulgence of his whim. But he even +offered to receive it, and in a community where everything took the +complexion of a joke, he came to be affectionately regarded as a crank +on that point; the shabbily aging veterans, whom he pursued to their +workbenches and cornfields, for, the documents of the regimental +history, liked to ask the colonel if he had brought his gun. They, +always give him the title with which he had been breveted at the +close of the war; but he was known to the younger, generation of his +fellow-citizens as the judge. His wife called him Mr. Kenton in the +presence of strangers, and sometimes to himself, but to his children she +called him Poppa, as they did. + +The steady-going eldest son, who had succeeded to his father's affairs +without giving him the sense of dispossession, loyally accepted the +popular belief that he would never be the man his father was. He joined +with his mother in a respect for Kenton's theory of the regimental +history which was none the less sincere because it was unconsciously a +little sceptical of the outcome; and the eldest daughter was of their +party. The youngest said frankly that she had no use for any history, +but she said the same of nearly everything which had not directly +or indirectly to do with dancing. In this regulation she had use for +parties and picnics, for buggy-rides and sleigh-rides, for calls from +young men and visits to and from other girls, for concerts, for plays, +for circuses and church sociables, for everything but lectures; and +she devoted herself to her pleasures without the shadow of chaperonage, +which was, indeed, a thing still unheard of in Tuskingum. + +In the expansion which no one else ventured, or, perhaps, wished to set +bounds to, she came under the criticism of her younger brother, who, +upon the rare occasions when he deigned to mingle in the family affairs, +drew their mother's notice to his sister's excesses in carrying-on, and +required some action that should keep her from bringing the name, +of Kenton to disgrace. From being himself a boy of very slovenly and +lawless life he had suddenly, at the age of fourteen, caught himself up +from the street, reformed his dress and conduct, and confined himself in +his large room at the top of the house, where, on the pursuits to which +he gave his spare time, the friends who frequented his society, and the +literature which nourished his darkling spirit, might fitly have been +written Mystery. The sister whom he reprobated was only two years his +elder, but since that difference in a girl accounts for a great deal, it +apparently authorized her to take him more lightly than he was able +to take himself. She said that he was in love, and she achieved an +importance with him through his speechless rage and scorn which none +of the rest of his family enjoyed. With his father and mother he had a +bearing of repressed superiority which a strenuous conscience kept from +unmasking itself in open contempt when they failed to make his sister +promise to behave herself. Sometimes he had lapses from his dignified +gloom with his mother, when, for no reason that could be given, he fell +from his habitual majesty to the tender dependence of a little boy, +just as his voice broke from its nascent base to its earlier treble at +moments when he least expected or wished such a thing to happen. His +stately but vague ideal of himself was supported by a stature beyond +his years, but this rendered it the more difficult for him to bear the +humiliation of his sudden collapses, and made him at other times the +easier prey of Lottie's ridicule. He got on best, or at least most +evenly, with his eldest sister. She took him seriously, perhaps because +she took all life so; and she was able to interpret him to his father +when his intolerable dignity forbade a common understanding between +them. When he got so far beyond his depth that he did not know what +he meant himself, as sometimes happened, she gently found him a safe +footing nearer shore. + +Kenton's theory was that he did not distinguish among his children. He +said that he did not suppose they were the best children in the world, +but they suited him; and he would not have known how to change them +for the better. He saw no harm in the behavior of Lottie when it most +shocked her brother; he liked her to have a good time; but it flattered +his nerves to have Ellen about him. Lottie was a great deal more +accomplished, he allowed that; she could play and sing, and she had +social gifts far beyond her sister; but he easily proved to his wife +that Nelly knew ten times as much. + +Nelly read a great deal; she kept up with all the magazines, and knew +all the books in his library. He believed that she was a fine German +scholar, and in fact she had taken up that language after leaving +school, when, if she had been better advised than she could have been in +Tuskingum, she would have kept on with her French. She started the first +book club in the place; and she helped her father do the intellectual +honors of the house to the Eastern lecturers, who always stayed with +the judge when they came to Tuskingum. She was faithfully present at the +moments, which her sister shunned in derision, when her father explained +to them respectively his theory of regimental history, and would just, +as he said, show them a few of the documents he had collected. He +made Ellen show them; she knew where to put her hand on the most +characteristic and illustrative; and Lottie offered to bet what one +dared that Ellen would marry some of those lecturers yet; she was +literary enough. + +She boasted that she was not literary herself, and had no use for any +one who was; and it could not have been her culture that drew the +most cultivated young man in Tuskingum to her. Ellen was really more +beautiful; Lottie was merely very pretty; but she had charm for them, +and Ellen, who had their honor and friendship, had no charm for them. No +one seemed drawn to her as they were drawn to her sister till a man came +who was not one of the most cultivated in Tuskingum; and then it was +doubtful whether she was not first drawn to him. She was too transparent +to hide her feeling from her father and mother, who saw with even more +grief than shame that she could not hide it from the man himself, whom +they thought so unworthy of it. + +He had suddenly arrived in Tuskingum from one of the villages of the +county, where he had been teaching school, and had found something to do +as reporter on the Tuskingum 'Intelligencer', which he was instinctively +characterizing with the spirit of the new journalism, and was pushing as +hardily forward on the lines of personality as if he had dropped down +to it from the height of a New York or Chicago Sunday edition. The judge +said, with something less than his habitual honesty, that he did not +mind his being a reporter, but he minded his being light and shallow; +he minded his being flippant and mocking; he minded his bringing his +cigarettes and banjo into the house at his second visit. He did not mind +his push; the fellow had his way to make and he had to push; but he did +mind his being all push; and his having come out of the country with as +little simplicity as if he had passed his whole life in the city. He +had no modesty, and he had no reverence; he had no reverence for Ellen +herself, and the poor girl seemed to like him for that. + +He was all the more offensive to the judge because he was himself to +blame for their acquaintance, which began when one day the fellow +had called after him in the street, and then followed down the shady +sidewalk beside him to his hour, wanting to know what this was he had +heard about his history, and pleading for more light upon his plan in +it. At the gate he made a flourish of opening and shutting it for the +judge, and walking up the path to his door he kept his hand on the +judge's shoulder most offensively; but in spite of this Kenton had +the weakness to ask him in, and to call Ellen to get him the most +illustrative documents of the history. + +The interview that resulted in the 'Intelligencer' was the least evil +that came of this error. Kenton was amazed, and then consoled, and then +afflicted that Ellen was not disgusted with it; and in his conferences +with his wife he fumed and fretted at his own culpable folly, and tried +to get back of the time he had committed it, in that illusion which +people have with trouble that it could somehow be got rid of if it could +fairly be got back of; till the time came when his wife could no longer +share his unrest in this futile endeavor. + +She said, one night when they had talked late and long, "That can't be +helped now; and the question is what are we going to do to stop it." + +The judge evaded the point in saying, "The devil of it is that all the +nice fellows are afraid of her; they respect her too much, and the very +thing which ought to disgust her with this chap is what gives him his +power over her. I don't know what we are going to do, but we must break +it off, somehow." + +"We might take her with us somewhere," Mrs. Kenton suggested. + +"Run away from the fellow? I think I see myself! No, we have got to stay +and face the thing right here. But I won't have him about the house any +more, understand that. He's not to be let in, and Ellen mustn't see him; +you tell her I said so. Or no! I will speak to her myself." His wife +said that he was welcome to do that; but he did not quite do it. He +certainly spoke to his daughter about her, lover, and he satisfied +himself that there was yet nothing explicit between them. But she was so +much less frank and open with him than she had always been before that +he was wounded as well as baffled by her reserve. He could not get her +to own that she really cared for the fellow; but man as he was, and old +man as he was, he could not help perceiving that she lived in a fond +dream of him. + +He went from her to her mother. "If he was only one-half the man she +thinks he is!"--he ended his report in a hopeless sigh. + +"You want to give in to her!" his wife pitilessly interpreted. "Well, +perhaps that would be the best thing, after all." + +"No, no, it wouldn't, Sarah; it would be the easiest for both of us, I +admit, but it would be the worst thing for her. We've got to let it run +along for a while yet. If we give him rope enough he may hang himself; +there's that chance. We can't go away, and we can't shut her up, and we +can't turn him out of the house. We must trust her to find him out for +herself." + +"She'll never do that," said the mother. "Lottie says Ellen thinks he's +just perfect. He cheers her up, and takes her out of herself. We've +always acted with her as if we thought she was different from other +girls, and he behaves to her as if she was just like all of them, just +as silly, and just as weak, and it pleases her, and flatters her; she +likes it." + +"Oh, Lord!" groaned the father. "I suppose she does." + +This was bad enough; it was a blow to his pride in Ellen; but there was +something that hurt him still worse. When the fellow had made sure of +her, he apparently felt himself so safe in her fondness that he did not +urge his suit with her. His content with her tacit acceptance gave the +bitterness of shame to the promise Kenton and his wife had made each +other never to cross any of their children in love. They were ready +now to keep that promise for Ellen, if he asked it of them, rather +than answer for her lifelong disappointment, if they denied him. But, +whatever he meant finally to do, he did not ask it; he used his footing +in their house chiefly as a basis for flirtations beyond it. He began +to share his devotions to Ellen with her girl friends, and not with her +girl friends alone. It did not come to scandal, but it certainly came to +gossip about him and a silly young wife; and Kenton heard of it with +a torment of doubt whether Ellen knew of it, and what she would do; he +would wait for her to do herself whatever was to be done. He was never +certain how much she had heard of the gossip when she came to her +mother, and said with the gentle eagerness she had, "Didn't poppa talk +once of going South this winter?" + +"He talked of going to New York," the mother answered, with a throb of +hope. + +"Well," the girl returned, patiently, and Mrs. Kenton read in her +passivity an eagerness to be gone from sorrow that she would not suffer +to be seen, and interpreted her to her father in such wise that he could +not hesitate. + + + + +II. + +If such a thing could be mercifully ordered, the order of this event had +certainly been merciful; but it was a cruel wrench that tore Kenton from +the home where he had struck such deep root. When he actually came to +leave the place his going had a ghastly unreality, which was heightened +by his sense of the common reluctance. No one wanted to go, so far as +he could make out, not even Ellen herself, when he tried to make her say +she wished it. Lottie was in open revolt, and animated her young men to +a share in the insurrection. Her older brother was kindly and helpfully +acquiescent, but he was so far from advising the move that Kenton had +regularly to convince himself that Richard approved it, by making him +say that it was only for the winter and that it was the best way of +helping Ellen get rid of that fellow. All this did not enable Kenton to +meet the problems of his younger son, who required him to tell what he +was to do with his dog and his pigeons, and to declare at once how he +was to dispose of the cocoons he had amassed so as not to endanger the +future of the moths and butterflies involved in them. The boy was so +fertile in difficulties and so importunate for their solution, that he +had to be crushed into silence by his father, who ached in a helpless +sympathy with his reluctance. + +Kenton came heavily upon the courage of his wife, who was urging forward +their departure with so much energy that he obscurely accused her of +being the cause of it, and could only be convinced of her innocence when +she offered to give the whole thing up if he said so. When he would not +say so, she carried the affair through to the bitter end, and she did +not spare him some, pangs which she perhaps need not have shared with +him. But people are seldom man and wife for half their lives without +wishing to impart their sufferings as well as their pleasures to each +other; and Mrs. Kenton, if she was no worse, was no better than other +wives in pressing to her husband's lips the cup that was not altogether +sweet to her own. She went about the house the night before closing it, +to see that everything was in a state to be left, and then she came to +Kenton in his library, where he had been burning some papers and getting +others ready to give in charge to his son, and sat down by his cold +hearth with him, and wrung his soul with the tale of the last things she +had been doing. When she had made him bear it all, she began to turn the +bright side of the affair to him. She praised the sense and strength of +Ellen, in the course the girl had taken with herself, and asked him +if he, really thought they could have done less for her than they were +doing. She reminded him that they were not running away from the fellow, +as she had once thought they must, but Ellen was renouncing him, and +putting him out of her sight till she could put him out of her mind. She +did not pretend that the girl had done this yet; but it was everything +that she wished to do it, and saw that it was best. Then she kissed +him on his gray head, and left him alone to the first ecstasy of his +homesickness. + +It was better when they once got to New York, and were settled in an +apartment of an old-fashioned down-town hotel. They thought themselves +very cramped in it, and they were but little easier when they found that +the apartments over and under them were apparently thought spacious for +families of twice their numbers. It was the very quietest place in the +whole city, but Kenton was used to the stillness of Tuskingum, where, +since people no longer kept hens, the nights were stiller than in the +country itself; and for a week he slept badly. Otherwise, as soon as +they got used to living in six rooms instead of seventeen, they were +really very comfortable. + +He could see that his wife was glad of the release from housekeeping, +and she was growing gayer and seemed to be growing younger in the +inspiration of the great, good-natured town. They had first come to New +York on their wedding journey, but since that visit she had always let +him go alone on his business errands to the East; these had grown less +and less frequent, and he had not seen New York for ten or twelve years. +He could have waited as much longer, but he liked her pleasure in the +place, and with the homesickness always lurking at his heart he went +about with her to the amusements which she frequented, as she said, to +help Ellen take her mind off herself. At the play and the opera he +sat thinking of the silent, lonely house at Tuakingum, dark among its +leafless maples, and the life that was no more in it than if they had +all died out of it; and he could not keep down a certain resentment, +senseless and cruel, as if the poor girl were somehow to blame for their +exile. When he betrayed this feeling to his wife, as he sometimes must, +she scolded him for it, and then offered, if he really thought anything +like that, to go back to Tuskingum at once; and it ended in his having +to own himself wrong, and humbly promise that he never would let the +child dream how he felt, unless he really wished to kill her. He was +obliged to carry his self-punishment so far as to take Lottie very +sharply to task when she broke out in hot rebellion, and declared that +it was all Ellen's fault; she was not afraid of killing her sister; and +though she did not say it to her, she said it of her, that anybody else +could have got rid of that fellow without turning the whole family out +of house and home. + +Lottie, in fact, was not having a bit good time in New York, which she +did not find equal in any way to Tuskingum for fun. She hated the dull +propriety of the hotel, where nobody got acquainted, and every one was +as afraid as death of every one else; and in her desolation she was +thrown back upon the society of her brother Boyne. They became friends +in their common dislike of New York; and pending some chance of bringing +each other under condemnation they lamented their banishment from +Tuskingum together. But even Boyne contrived to make the heavy time +pass more lightly than she in the lessons he had with a tutor, and the +studies of the city which he carried on. When the skating was not good +in Central Park he spent most of his afternoons and evenings at the +vaudeville theatres. None of the dime museums escaped his research, +and he conversed with freaks and monsters of all sorts upon terms of +friendly confidence. He reported their different theories of themselves +to his family with the same simple-hearted interest that he criticised +the song and dance artists of the vaudeville theatres. He became an +innocent but by no means uncritical connoisseur of their attractions, +and he surprised with the constancy and variety of his experience in +them a gentleman who sat next him one night. Boyne thought him a person +of cultivation, and consulted him upon the opinion he had formed that +there was not so much harm in such places as people said. The gentleman +distinguished in saying that he thought you would not find more harm in +them, if you did not bring it with you, than you would in the legitimate +theatres; and in the hope of further wisdom from him, Boyne followed him +out of the theatre and helped him on with his overcoat. The gentleman +walked home to his hotel with him, and professed a pleasure in his +acquaintance which he said he trusted they might sometime renew. + +All at once the Kentons began to be acquainted in the hotel, as often +happens with people after they have long ridden up and down in the +elevator together in bonds of apparently perpetual strangeness. From +one friendly family their acquaintance spread to others until they were, +almost without knowing it, suddenly and simultaneously on smiling and +then on speaking terms with the people of every permanent table in the +dining-room. Lottie and Boyne burst the chains of the unnatural kindness +which bound them, and resumed their old relations of reciprocal censure. +He found a fellow of his own age in the apartment below, who had the +same country traditions and was engaged in a like inspection of the +city; and she discovered two girls on another floor, who said they +received on Saturdays and wanted her to receive with them. They made +a tea for her, and asked some real New Yorkers; and such a round of +pleasant little events began for her that Boyne was forced to call his +mother's attention to the way Charlotte was going on with the young men +whom she met and frankly asked to call upon her without knowing anything +about them; you could not do that in New York, he said. + +But by this time New York had gone to Mrs. Kenton's head, too, and +she was less fitted to deal with Lottie than at home. Whether she had +succeeded or not in helping Ellen take her mind off herself, she had +certainly freed her own from introspection in a dream of things which +had seemed impossible before. She was in that moment of a woman's life +which has a certain pathos for the intelligent witness, when, having +reared her children and outgrown the more incessant cares of her +motherhood, she sometimes reverts to her girlish impulses and ideals, +and confronts the remaining opportunities of life with a joyful hope +unknown to our heavier and sullener sex in its later years. It is this +peculiar power of rejuvenescence which perhaps makes so many women +outlive their husbands, who at the same age regard this world as an +accomplished fact. Mrs. Kenton had kept up their reading long after +Kenton found himself too busy or too tired for it; and when he came +from his office at night and fell asleep over the book she wished him to +hear, she continued it herself, and told him about it. When Ellen began +to show the same taste, they read together, and the mother was not +jealous when the father betrayed that he was much prouder of his +daughter's culture than his wife's. She had her own misgivings that she +was not so modern as Ellen, and she accepted her judgment in the case of +some authors whom she did not like so well. + +She now went about not only to all the places where she could make +Ellen's amusement serve as an excuse, but to others when she could not +coax or compel the melancholy girl. She was as constant at matinees +of one kind as Boyne at another sort; she went to the exhibitions of +pictures, and got herself up in schools of painting; she frequented +galleries, public and private, and got asked to studio teas; she went to +meetings and conferences of aesthetic interest, and she paid an easy +way to parlor lectures expressive of the vague but profound ferment +in women's souls; from these her presence in intellectual clubs was +a simple and natural transition. She met and talked with interesting +people, and now and then she got introduced to literary people. Once, +in a book-store, she stood next to a gentleman leaning over the same +counter, whom a salesman addressed by the name of a popular author, and +she remained staring at him breathless till he left the place. When she +bragged of the prodigious experience at home, her husband defied her to +say how it differed from meeting the lecturers who had been their guests +in Tuskingum, and she answered that none of them compared with this +author; and, besides, a lion in his own haunts was very different from +a lion going round the country on exhibition. Kenton thought that was +pretty good, and owned that she had got him there. + +He laughed at her, to the children, but all the same she believed that +she was living in an atmosphere of culture, and with every breath she +was sensible of an intellectual expansion. She found herself in the +enjoyment of so wide and varied a sympathy with interests hitherto +strange to her experience that she could not easily make people believe +she had never been to Europe. Nearly every one she met had been several +times, and took it for granted that she knew the Continent as well as +they themselves. + +She denied it with increasing shame; she tried to make Kenton understand +how she felt, and she might have gone further if she had not seen how +homesick he was for Tuskingum. She did her best to coax him and scold +him into a share of the pleasure they were all beginning to have in New +York. She made him own that Ellen herself was beginning to be gayer; +she convinced him that his business was not suffering in his absence and +that he was the better from the complete rest he was having. She defied +him, to say, then, what was the matter with him, and she bitterly +reproached herself, in the event, for not having known that it was not +homesickness alone that was the trouble. When he was not going about +with her, or doing something to amuse the children, he went upon long, +lonely walks, and came home silent and fagged. He had given up smoking, +and he did not care to sit about in the office of the hotel where other +old fellows passed the time over their papers and cigars, in the heat of +the glowing grates. They looked too much like himself, with their air of +unrecognized consequence, and of personal loss in an alien environment. +He knew from their dress and bearing that they were country people, +and it wounded him in a tender place to realize that they had each left +behind him in his own town an authority and a respect which they could +not enjoy in New York. Nobody called them judge, or general, or doctor, +or squire; nobody cared who they were, or what they thought; Kenton did +not care himself; but when he missed one of them he envied him, for +then he knew that he had gone back to the soft, warm keeping of his own +neighborhood, and resumed the intelligent regard of a community he had +grown up with. There were men in New York whom Kenton had met in former +years, and whom he had sometimes fancied looking up; but he did not let +them know he was in town, and then he was hurt that they ignored him. He +kept away from places where he was likely to meet them; he thought that +it must have come to them that he was spending the winter in New York, +and as bitterly as his nature would suffer he resented the indifference +of the Ohio Society to the presence of an Ohio man of his local +distinction. He had not the habit of clubs, and when one of the pleasant +younger fellows whom he met in the hotel offered to put him up at one, +he shrank from the courtesy shyly and almost dryly. He had outlived the +period of active curiosity, and he did not explore the city as he world +once have done. He had no resorts out of the hotel, except the basements +of the secondhand book-dealers. He haunted these, and picked up copies +of war histories and biographies, which, as fast as he read them, he +sent off to his son at Tuskingum, and had him put them away with +the documents for the life of his regiment. His wife could see, with +compassion if not sympathy, that he was fondly strengthening by these +means the ties that bound him to his home, and she silently proposed to +go back to it with him whenever he should say the word. + +He had a mechanical fidelity, however, to their agreement that they +should stay till spring, and he made no sign of going, as the +winter wore away to its end, except to write out to Tuskingum minute +instructions for getting the garden ready. He varied his visits to the +book-stalls by conferences with seedsmen at their stores; and his wife +could see that he had as keen a satisfaction in despatching a rare find +from one as from the other. + +She forbore to make him realize that the situation had not changed, and +that they would be taking their daughter back to the trouble the girl +herself had wished to escape. She was trusting, with no definite hope, +for some chance of making him feel this, while Kenton was waiting with +a kind of passionate patience for the term of his exile, when he came in +one day in April from one of his long walks, and said he had been up to +the Park to see the blackbirds. But he complained of being tired, and he +lay down on his bed. He did not get up for dinner, and then it was six +weeks before he left his room. + +He could not remember that he had ever been sick so long before, and +he was so awed by his suffering, which was severe but not serious, that +when his doctor said he thought a voyage to Europe would be good for +him he submitted too meekly for Mrs. Kenton. Her heart smote her for +her guilty joy in his sentence, and she punished herself by asking if it +would not do him more good to get back to the comfort and quiet of their +own house. She went to the length of saying that she believed his attack +had been brought on more by homesickness than anything else. But the +doctor agreed rather with her wish than her word, and held out that his +melancholy was not the cause but the effect of his disorder. Then she +took courage and began getting ready to go. She did not flag even in the +dark hours when Kenton got back his courage with his returning strength, +and scoffed at the notion of Europe, and insisted that as soon as they +were in Tuskingum he should be all right again. + +She felt the ingratitude, not to say the perfidy, of his behavior, +and she fortified herself indignantly against it; but it was not her +constant purpose, or the doctor's inflexible opinion, that prevailed +with Kenton at last a letter came one day for Ellen which she showed to +her mother, and which her mother, with her distress obscurely relieved +by a sense of its powerful instrumentality, brought to the girl's +father. It was from that fellow, as they always called him, and it asked +of the girl a hearing upon a certain point in which, it had just come +to his knowledge, she had misjudged him. He made no claim upon her, and +only urged his wish to right himself with her because she was the one +person in the whole world, after his mother, for whose good opinion he +cared. With some tawdriness of sentiment, the letter was well worded; +it was professedly written for the sole purpose of knowing whether, when +she came back to Tuskingum, she would see him, and let him prove to her +that he was not wholly unworthy of the kindness she had shown him when +he was without other friends. + +"What does she say?" the judge demanded. + +"What do you suppose?" his wife retorted. "She thinks she ought to see +him." + +"Very well, then. We will go to Europe." + +"Not on my account!" Mrs. Kenton consciously protested. + +"No; not on your account, or mine, either. On Nelly's account. Where is +she? I want to talk with her." + +"And I want to talk with you. She's out, with Lottie; and when she comes +back I will tell her what you say. But I want to know what you think, +first." + + + + +III. + +It was some time before they arrived at a common agreement as to what +Kenton thought, and when they reached it they decided that they must +leave the matter altogether to Ellen, as they had done before. They +would never force her to anything, and if, after all that her mother +could say, she still wished to see the fellow, they would not deny her. + +When it came to this, Ellen was a long time silent, so long a time that +her mother was beginning restively to doubt whether she was going to +speak at all. Then she drew a long, silent breath. "I suppose I ought to +despise myself, momma, for caring for him, when he's never really said +that he cared for me." + +"No, no," her mother faltered. + +"But I do, I do!" she gave way piteously. "I can't help it! He doesn't +say so, even now." + +"No, he doesn't." It hurt her mother to own the fact that alone gave her +hope. + +The girl was a long time silent again before she asked, "Has poppa got +the tickets?" + +"Why, he wouldn't, Ellen, child, till he knew how you felt," her mother +tenderly reproached her. + +"He'd better not wait!" The tears ran silently down Ellen's cheeks, and +her lips twitched a little between these words and the next; she spoke +as if it were still of her father, but her mother understood. "If he +ever does say so, don't you speak a word to me, momma; and don't you let +poppa." + +"No; indeed I won't," her mother promised. "Have we ever interfered, +Ellen? Have we ever tried to control you?" + +"He WOULD have said so, if he hadn't seen that everybody was against +him." The mother bore without reply the ingratitude and injustice that +she knew were from the child's pain and not from her will. "Where is his +letter? Give me his letter!" She nervously twitched it from her mother's +hand and ran it into her pocket. She turned away to go and put off her +hat, which she still wore from coming in with Lottie; but she stopped +and looked over her shoulder at her mother. "I'm going to answer it, and +I don't want you ever to ask me what I've said. Will you?" + +"No, I won't, Nelly." + +"Well, then!" + +The next night she went with Boyne and Lottie to the apartment overhead +to spend their last evening with the young people there, who were going +into the country the next day. She came back without the others, +who wished to stay a little longer, as she said, with a look of gay +excitement in her eyes, which her mother knew was not happiness. Mrs. +Kenton had an impulse to sweep into her lap the lithograph plans of +the steamer, and the passage ticket which lay open on the table before +herself and her husband. But it was too late to hide them from Ellen. +She saw them, and caught up the ticket, and read it, and flung it down +again. "Oh, I didn't think you would do it!" she burst out; and she +ran away to her room, where they could hear her sobbing, as they sat +haggardly facing each other. + +"Well, that settles it," said Benton at last, with a hard gulp. + +"Oh, I suppose so," his wife assented. + +On his part, now, he had a genuine regret for her disappointment from +the sad safety of the trouble that would keep them at home; and on her +part she could be glad of it if any sort of comfort could come out of it +to him. + +"Till she says go," he added, "we've got to stay." + +"Oh yes," his wife responded. "The worst of it is, we can't even go back +to Tuskingum." He looked up suddenly at her, and she saw that he had not +thought of this. She made "Tchk!" in sheer amaze at him. + +"We won't cross that river till we come to it," he said, sullenly, but +half-ashamed. The next morning the situation had not changed overnight, +as they somehow both crazily hoped it might, and at breakfast, which +they had at a table grown more remote from others with the thinning out +of the winter guests of the hotel, the father and mother sat down alone +in silence which was scarcely broken till Lottie and Boyne joined them. + +"Where's Ellen?" the boy demanded. + +"She's having her breakfast in her room," Mrs. Kenton answered. + +"She says she don't want to eat anything," Lottie reported. "She made +the man take it away again." + +The gloom deepened in the faces of the father and mother, but neither +spoke, and Boyne resumed the word again in a tone of philosophic +speculation. "I don't see how I'm going to get along, with those +European breakfasts. They say you can't get anything but cold meat or +eggs; and generally they don't expect to give you anything but bread and +butter with your coffee. I don't think that's the way to start the day, +do you, poppa?" + +Kenton seemed not to have heard, for he went on silently eating, and the +mother, who had not been appealed to, merely looked distractedly across +the table at her children. + +"Mr. Plumpton says he's coming down to see us off," said Lottie, +smoothing her napkin in her lap. "Do you know the time of day when the +boat sails, momma?" + +"Yes," her brother broke in, "and if I had been momma I'd have boxed +your ears for the way you went on with him. You fairly teased him to +come. The way Lottie goes on with men is a shame, momma." + +"What time does the boat sail, momma!" Lottie blandly persisted. "I +promised to let Mr. Plumpton know." + +"Yes, so as to get a chance to write to him," said Boyne. "I guess when +he sees your spelling!" + +"Momma! Do wake up! What time does our steamer sail?" + +A light of consciousness came into Mrs. Renton's eyes at last, and she +sighed gently. "We're not going, Lottie." + +"Not going! Why, but we've got the tickets, and I've told--" + +"Your father has decided not to go, for the present. We may go later in +the summer, or perhaps in the fall." + +Boyne looked at his father's troubled face, and said nothing, but Lottie +was not stayed from the expression of her feelings by any ill-timed +consideration for what her father's might be. "I just know," she fired, +"it's something to do with that nasty Bittridge. He's been a bitter dose +to this family! As soon as I saw Ellen have a letter I was sure it was +from him; and she ought to be ashamed. If I had played the simpleton +with such a fellow I guess you wouldn't have let me keep you from going +to Europe very much. What is she going to do now? Marry him? Or doesn't +he want her to?" + +"Lottie!" said her mother, and her father glanced up at her with a face +that silenced her. + +"When you've been half as good a girl as Ellen has been, in this whole +matter," he said, darkly, "it will be time for you to complain of the +way you've been treated." + +"Oh yes, I know you like Ellen the best," said the girl, defiantly. + +"Don't say such a thing, Lottie!" said her mother. "Your father loves +all his children alike, and I won't have you talking so to him. Ellen +has had a great deal to bear, and she has behaved beautifully. If we are +not going to Europe it is because we have decided that it is best not to +go, and I wish to hear nothing more from you about it." + +"Oh yes! And a nice position it leaves me in, when I've been taking +good-bye of everybody! Well, I hope to goodness you won't say anything +about it till the Plumptons get away. I couldn't have the face to meet +them if you did." + +"It won't be necessary to say anything; or you can say that we've merely +postponed our sailing. People are always doing that." + +"It's not to be a postponement," said Kenton, so sternly that no one +ventured to dispute him, the children because they were afraid of him, +and their mother because she was suffering for him. + +At the steamship office, however, the authorities represented that it +was now so near the date of his sailing that they could not allow him to +relinquish his passages except at his own risk. They would try to sell +his ticket for him, but they could not take it back, and they could not +promise to sell it. There was reason in what they said, but if there had +been none, they had the four hundred dollars which Kenton had paid +for his five berths and they had at least the advantage of him in +the argument by that means. He put the ticket back in his pocket-book +without attempting to answer them, and deferred his decision till he +could advise with his wife, who, after he left the breakfast-table upon +his errand to the steamship office, had abandoned her children to their +own devices, and gone to scold Ellen for not eating. + +She had not the heart to scold her when she found the girl lying face +downward in the pillow, with her thin arms thrown up through the coils +and heaps of her loose-flung hair. She was so alight that her figure +scarcely defined itself under the bedclothes; the dark hair, and the +white, outstretched arms seemed all there was of her. She did not stir, +but her mother knew she was not sleeping. "Ellen," she said, gently, +"you needn't be troubled about our going to Europe. Your father has gone +down to the steamship office to give back his ticket." + +The girl flashed her face round with nervous quickness. "Gone to give +back his ticket!" + +"Yes, we decided it last night. He's never really wanted to go, and--" + +"But I don't wish poppa to give up his ticket!" said Ellen. "He must get +it again. I shall die if I stay here, momma. We have got to go. Can't +you understand that?" + +Mrs. Kenton did not know what to answer. She had a strong superficial +desire to shake her daughter as a naughty child which has vexed its +mother, but under this was a stir stronger pity for her as a woman, +which easily, prevailed. "Why, but, Ellen dear! We thought from what you +said last night--" + +"But couldn't you SEE," the girl reproached her, and she began to cry, +and turned her face into the pillow again and lay sobbing. + +"Well," said her mother, after she had given her a little time, "you +needn't be troubled. Your father can easily get the ticket again; he can +telephone down for it. Nothing has been done yet. But didn't you really +want to stay, then?" + +"It isn't whether I want to stay or not," Ellen spoke into her pillow. +"You know that. You know that I have got to go. You know that if I saw +him--Oh, why do you make me talk?" + +"Yes, I understand, child." Then, in the imperious necessity of blaming +some one, Mrs. Kenton added: "You know how it is with your father. He is +always so precipitate; and when he heard what you said, last night, it +cut him to the heart. He felt as if he were dragging you away, and this +morning he could hardly wait to get through his breakfast before he +rushed down to the steamship office. But now it's all right again, and +if you want to go, we'll go, and your father will only be too glad." + +"I don't want father to go against his will. You said he never wanted to +go to Europe." The girl had turned her face upon her mother again; and +fixed her with her tearful, accusing eyes. + +"The doctors say he ought to go. He needs the change, and I think we +should all be the better far getting away." + +"I shall not," said Ellen. "But if I don't--" + +"Yes," said her mother, soothingly. + +"You know that nothing has changed. He hasn't changed and I haven't. If +he was bad, he's as bad as ever, and I'm just as silly. Oh, it's like a +drunkard! I suppose they know it's killing them, but they can't give it +up! Don't you think it's very strange, momma? I don't see why I should +be so. It seems as if I had no character at all, and I despise myself +so! Do you believe I shall ever get over it? Sometimes I think the best +thing for me would be to go into an asylum." + +"Oh yes, dear; you'll get over it, and forget it all. As soon as you see +others--other scenes--and get interested--" + +"And you don't you don't think I'd better let him come, and--" + +"Ellen!" + +Ellen began to sob again, and toss her head upon the pillow. "What shall +I do? What shall I do?" she wailed. "He hasn't ever done anything bad to +me, and if I can overlook his--his flirting--with that horrid thing, +I don't know what the rest of you have got to say. And he says he can +explain everything. Why shouldn't I give him the chance, momma? I do +think it is acting very cruel not to let him even say a word." + +"You can see him if you wish, Ellen," said her mother, gravely. "Your +father and I have always said that. And perhaps it would be the best +thing, after all." + +"Oh, you say that because you think that if I did see him, I should be +so disgusted with him that I'd never want to speak to him again. But +what if I shouldn't?" + +"Then we should wish you to do whatever you thought was for your +happiness, Ellen. We can't believe it would be for your good; but if it +would be for your happiness, we are willing. Or, if you don't think it's +for your happiness, but only for his, and you wish to do it, still we +shall be willing, and you know that as far as your father and I are +concerned, there will never be a word of reproach--not a whisper." + +"Lottie would despise me; and what would Richard say?" + +"Richard would never say anything to wound you, dear, and if you don't +despise yourself, you needn't mind Lottie." + +"But I should, momma; that's the worst of it! I should despise myself, +and he would despise me too. No, if I see him, I am going to do it +because I am selfish and wicked, and wish to have my own way, no matter +who is harmed by it, or--anything; and I'm not going to have it put on +any other ground. I could see him," she said, as if to herself, "just +once more--only once more--and then if I didn't believe in him, I could +start right off to Europe." + +Her mother made no answer to this, and Ellen lay awhile apparently +forgetful of her presence, inwardly dramatizing a passionate scene of +dismissal between herself and her false lover. She roused herself from +the reverie with a long sigh, and her mother said, "Won't you have some +breakfast, now; Ellen?" + +"Yes; and I will get up. You needn't be troubled any more about me, +momma. I will write to him not to come, and poppa must go back and get +his ticket again." + +"Not unless you are doing this of your own free will, child. I can't +have you feeling that we are putting any pressure upon you." + +"You're not. I'm doing it of my own will. If it isn't my free will, that +isn't your fault. I wonder whose fault it is? Mine, or what made me so +silly and weak?" + +"You are not silly and weak," said her mother, fondly, and she bent over +the girl and would have kissed her, but Ellen averted her face with +a piteous "Don't!" and Mrs. Kenton went out and ordered her breakfast +brought back. + +She did not go in to make her eat it, as she would have done in the +beginning of the girl's trouble; they had all learned how much better +she was for being left to fight her battles with herself singlehanded. +Mrs. Kenton waited in the parlor till her husband same in, looking +gloomy and tired. He put his hat down and sank into a chair without +speaking. "Well?" she said. + +"We have got to lose the price of the ticket, if we give it back. I +thought I had better talk with you first," said Kenton, and he explained +the situation. + +"Then you had better simply have it put off till the next steamer. I +have been talking with Ellen, and she doesn't want to stay. She wants +to go." His wife took advantage of Kenton's mute amaze (in the nervous +vagaries even of the women nearest him a man learns nothing from +experience) to put her own interpretation on the case, which, as it was +creditable to the girl's sense and principle, he found acceptable if not +imaginable. "And if you will take my advice," she ended, "you will go +quietly back to the steamship office and exchange your ticket for the +next steamer, or the one after that, if you can't get good rooms, and +give Ellen time to get over this before she leaves. It will be much +better for her to conquer herself than to run away, for that would +always give her a feeling of shame, and if she decides before she goes, +it will strengthen her pride and self-respect, and there will be less +danger--when we come back." + +"Do you think he's going to keep after her!" + +"How can I tell? He will if he thinks it's to his interest, or he can +make anybody miserable by it." + +Kenton said nothing to this, but after a while he suggested, rather +timorously, as if it were something he could not expect her to approve, +and was himself half ashamed of, "I believe if I do put it off, I'll +run out to Tuskingum before we sail, and look after a little matter of +business that I don't think Dick can attend to so well." + +His wife knew why he wanted to go, and in her own mind she had already +decided that if he should ever propose to go, she should not gainsay +him. She had, in fact, been rather surprised that he had not proposed +it before this, and now she assented, without taxing him with his real +motive, and bringing him to open disgrace before her. She even went +further in saying: "Very well, then you had better go. I can get on very +well here, and I think it will leave Ellen freer to act for herself if +you are away. And there are some things in the house that I want, and +that Richard would be sure to send his wife to get if I asked him, and +I won't have her rummaging around in my closets. I suppose you will want +to go into the house?" + +"I suppose so," said Renton, who had not let a day pass, since he left +his house, without spending half his homesick time in it. His wife +suffered his affected indifference to go without exposure, and trumped +up a commission for him, which would take him intimately into the house. + + + + +IV + +The piety of his son Richard had maintained the place at Tuskingum in +perfect order outwardly, and Kenton's heart ached with tender pain as he +passed up the neatly kept walk from the gate, between the blooming ranks +of syringas and snowballs, to his door, and witnessed the faithful +care that Richard's hired man had bestowed upon every detail. The grass +between the banks of roses and rhododendrons had been as scrupulously +lawn-mowered and as sedulously garden-hosed as if Kenton himself had +been there to look after its welfare, or had tended the shrubbery as +he used to do in earlier days with his own hand. The oaks which he had +planted shook out their glossy green in the morning gale, and in the +tulip-trees, which had snowed their petals on the ground in wide circles +defined by the reach of their branches, he heard the squirrels barking; +a red-bird from the woody depths behind the house mocked the cat-birds +in the quince-trees. The June rose was red along the trellis of the +veranda, where Lottie ought to be sitting to receive the morning calls +of the young men who were sometimes quite as early as Kenton's present +visit in their devotions, and the sound of Ellen's piano, played +fitfully and absently in her fashion, ought to be coming out +irrespective of the hour. It seemed to him that his wife must open +the door as his steps and his son's made themselves heard on the walk +between the box borders in their upper orchard, and he faltered a +little. + +"Look here, father," said his son, detecting his hesitation. "Why don't +you let Mary come in with you, and help you find those things?" + +"No, no," said Kenton, sinking into one of the wooden seats that flanked +the door-way. "I promised your mother that I would get them myself. You +know women don't like to have other women going through their houses." + +"Yes, but Mary!" his son urged. + +"Ah! It's just Mary, with her perfect housekeeping, that your mother +wouldn't like to have see the way she left things," said Kenton, and he +smiled at the notion of any one being housekeeper enough to find a flaw +in his wife's. "My, but this is pleasant!" he added. He took off his +hat and let the breeze play through the lank, thin hair which was still +black on his fine, high forehead. He was a very handsome old man, with +a delicate aquiline profile, of the perfect Roman type which is perhaps +oftener found in America than ever it was in Rome. "You've kept it very +nice, Dick," he said, with a generalizing wave of his hat. + +"Well, I couldn't tell whether you would be coming back or not, and I +thought I had better be ready for you." + +"I wish we were," said the old man, "and we shall be, in the fall, or +the latter part of the summer. But it's better now that we should go--on +Ellen's account." + +"Oh, you'll enjoy it," his son evaded him. + +"You haven't seen anything of him lately?" Kenton suggested. + +"He wasn't likely to let me see anything of him," returned the son. + +"No," said the father. "Well!" He rose to put the key into the door, and +his son stepped down from the little porch to the brick walk. + +"Mary will have dinner early, father; and when you've got through here, +you'd better come over and lie down a while beforehand." + +Kenton had been dropped at eight o'clock from a sleeper on the Great +Three, and had refused breakfast at his son's house, upon the plea that +the porter had given him a Southern cantaloupe and a cup of coffee on +the train, and he was no longer hungry. + +"All right," he said. "I won't be longer than I can help." He had got +the door open and was going to close it again. + +His son laughed. "Better not shut it, father. It will let the fresh air +in." + +"Oh, all right," said the old man. + +The son lingered about, giving some orders to the hired man in the +vegetable garden, for an excuse, in the hope that his father might +change his mind and ask him to come into the house with him; he felt it +so forlorn for him to be going through those lifeless rooms alone. +When he looked round, and saw his father holding the door ajar, as if +impatiently waiting for him to be gone, he laughed and waved his hand +to him. "All right, father? I'm going now." But though he treated the +matter so lightly with his father, he said grimly to his wife, as he +passed her on their own porch, on his way to his once, "I don't like to +think of father being driven out of house and home this way." + +"Neither do I, Dick. But it can't be helped, can it?" + +"I think I could help it, if I got my hands on that fellow once." + +"No, you couldn't, Dick. It's not he that's doing it. It's Ellen; you +know that well enough; and you've just got to stand it." + +"Yes, I suppose so," said Richard Kenton. + +"Of course, my heart aches for your poor old father, but so it would if +Ellen had some kind of awful sickness. It is a kind of sickness, and you +can't fight it any more than if she really was sick." + +"No," said the husband, dejectedly. "You just slip over there, after a +while, Mary, if father's gone too long, will you? I don't like to have +him there alone." + +"'Deed and 'deed I won't, Dick. He wouldn't like it at all, my spying +round. Nothing can happen to him, and I believe your mother's just made +an excuse to send him after something, so that he can be in there alone, +and realize that the house isn't home any more. It will be easier for +him to go to Europe when he finds that out. I believe in my heart that +was her idea in not wanting me to find the things for him, and I'm not +going to meddle myself." + +With the fatuity of a man in such things, and with the fatuity of +age regarding all the things of the past, Kenton had thought in his +homesickness of his house as he used to be in it, and had never been +able to picture it without the family life. As he now walked through the +empty rooms, and up and down the stairs, his pulse beat low as if in the +presence of death. Everything was as they had left it, when they went +out of the house, and it appeared to Kenton that nothing had been +touched there since, though when he afterwards reported to his wife that +there was not a speck of dust anywhere she knew that Mary had been going +through the house, in their absence, not once only, but often, and she +felt a pang of grateful jealousy. He got together the things that Mrs. +Kenton had pretended to want, and after glancing in at the different +rooms, which seemed to be lying stealthily in wait for him, with their +emptiness and silence, he went down-stairs with the bundle he had made, +and turned into his library. He had some thought of looking at the +collections for his history, but, after pulling open one of the drawers +in which they were stored, he pushed it to again, and sank listlessly +into his leather-covered swivel-chair, which stood in its place before +the wide writing-table, and seemed to have had him in it before he sat +down. The table was bare, except for the books and documents which he +had sent home from time to time during the winter, and which Richard or +his wife had neatly arranged there without breaking their wraps. He +let fall his bundle at his feet, and sat staring at the ranks of books +against the wall, mechanically relating them to the different epochs of +the past in which he or his wife or his children had been interested +in them, and aching with tender pain. He had always supposed himself a +happy and strong and successful man, but what a dreary ruin his life had +fallen into! Was it to be finally so helpless and powerless (for with +all the defences about him that a man can have, he felt himself fatally +vulnerable) that he had fought so many years? Why, at his age, should +he be going into exile, away from everything that could make his days +bright and sweet? Why could not he come back there, where he was now +more solitary than he could be anywhere else on earth, and reanimate the +dead body of his home with his old life? He knew why, in an immediate +sort, but his quest was for the cause behind the cause. What had he +done, or left undone? He had tried to be a just man, and fulfil all +his duties both to his family and to his neighbors; he had wished to be +kind, and not to harm any one; he reflected how, as he had grown older, +the dread of doing any unkindness had grown upon him, and how he had +tried not to be proud, but to walk meekly and humbly. Why should he be +punished as he was, stricken in a place so sacred that the effort to +defend himself had seemed a kind of sacrilege? He could not make it out, +and he was not aware of the tears of self-pity that stole slowly down +his face, though from time to time he wiped them away. + +He heard steps in the hall without, advancing and pausing, which must be +those of his son coming back for him, and with these advances and pauses +giving him notice of his approach; but he did not move, and at first +he did not look up when the steps arrived at the threshold of the room +where he sat. When he lifted his eyes at last he saw Bittridge lounging +in the door-way, with one shoulder supported against the door-jamb, his +hands in his pockets and his hat pushed well back on his forehead. In an +instant all Kenton's humility and soft repining were gone. "Well, what +is it?" he called. + +"Oh," said Bittridge, coming forward. He laughed and explained, "Didn't +know if you recognized me." + +"I recognized you," said Kenton, fiercely. "What is it you want?" + +"Well, I happened to be passing, and I saw the door open, and I thought +maybe Dick was here." + +It was on Kenton's tongue to say that it was a good thing for him +Dick was not there. But partly the sense that this would be unbecoming +bluster, and partly the suffocating resentment of the fellow's +impudence, limited his response to a formless gasp, and Bittridge went +on: "But I'm glad to find you here, judge. I didn't know that you were +in town. Family all well in New York?" He was not quelled by the silence +of the judge on this point, but, as if he had not expected any definite +reply to what might well pass for formal civility, he now looked aslant +into his breast-pocket from which he drew a folded paper. "I just got +hold of a document this morning that I think will interest you. I was +bringing it round to Dick's wife for you." The intolerable familiarity +of all this was fast working Kenton to a violent explosion, but he +contained himself, and Bittridge stepped forward to lay the paper on +the table before him. "It's the original roster of Company C, in your +regiment, and--" + +"Take it away!" shouted Kenton, "and take yourself away with it!" and he +grasped the stick that shook in his hand. + +A wicked light came into Bittridge's eye as he drawled, in lazy scorn, +"Oh, I don't know." Then his truculence broke in a malicious amusement. +"Why, judge, what's the matter?" He put on a face of mock gravity, and +Kenton knew with helpless fury that he was enjoying his vantage. He +could fall upon him and beat him with his stick, leaving the situation +otherwise undefined, but a moment's reflection convinced Kenton that +this would not do. It made him sick to think of striking the fellow, as +if in that act he should be striking Ellen, too. It did not occur to him +that he could be physically worsted, or that his vehement age would +be no match for the other's vigorous youth. All he thought was that it +would not avail, except to make known to every one what none but her +dearest could now conjecture. Bittridge could then publicly say, and +doubtless would say, that he had never made love to Ellen; that if there +had been any love-making it was all on her side; and that he had only +paid her the attentions which any young man might blamelessly pay a +pretty girl. This would be true to the facts in the case, though it was +true also that he had used every tacit art to make her believe him in +love with her. But how could this truth be urged, and to whom? So far +the affair had been quite in the hands of Ellen's family, and they had +all acted for the best, up to the present time. They had given Bittridge +no grievance in making him feel that he was unwelcome in their house, +and they were quite within their rights in going away, and making it +impossible for him to see her again anywhere in Tuskingum. As for his +seeing her in New York, Ellen had but to say that she did not wish it, +and that would end it. Now, however, by treating him rudely, Kenton was +aware that he had bound himself to render Bittridge some account of his +behavior throughout, if the fellow insisted upon it. + +"I want nothing to do with you, sir," he said, less violently, but, +as he felt, not more effectually. "You are in my house without my +invitation, and against my wish!" + +"I didn't expect to find you here. I came in because I saw the door +open, and I thought I might see Dick or his wife and give them, this +paper for you. But I'm glad I found you, and if you won't give me any +reason for not wanting me here, I can give it myself, and I think I can +make out a very good case for you." Kenton quivered in anticipation of +some mention of Ellen, and Bittridge smiled as if he understood. But he +went on to say: "I know that there were things happened after you first +gave me the run of your house that might make you want to put up the +bars again--if they were true. But they were not true. And I can prove +that by the best of all possible witnesses--by Uphill himself. He stands +shoulder to shoulder with me, to make it hot for any one who couples his +wife's name with mine." + +"Humph!" Kenton could not help making this comment, and Bittridge, being +what he was, could not help laughing. + +"What's the use?" he asked, recovering himself. "I don't pretend that +I did right, but you know there wasn't any harm in it. And if there had +been I should have got the worst of it. Honestly, judge, I couldn't tell +you how much I prized being admitted to your house on the terms I was. +Don't you think I could appreciate the kindness you all showed me? +Before you took me up, I was alone in Tuskingum, but you opened every +door in the place for me. You made it home to me; and you won't believe +it, of course, because you're prejudiced; but I felt like a son and +brother to you all. I felt towards Mrs. Kenton just as I do towards my +own mother. I lost the best friends I ever had when you turned against +me. Don't you suppose I've seen the difference here in Tuskingum? Of +course, the men pass the time of day with me when we meet, but they +don't look me up, and there are more near-sighted girls in this town!" +Kenton could not keep the remote dawn of a smile out of his eyes, and +Bittridge caught the far-off gleam. "And everybody's been away the whole +winter. Not a soul at home, anywhere, and I had to take my chance of +surprising Mrs. Dick Kenton when I saw your door open here." He laughed +forlornly, as the gleam faded out of Kenton's eye again. "And the worst +of it is that my own mother isn't at home to me, figuratively speaking, +when I go over to see her at Ballardsville. She got wind of my +misfortune, somehow, and when I made a clean breast of it to her, she +said she could never feel the same to me till I had made it all right +with the Kentons. And when a man's own mother is down on him, judge!" + +Bittridge left Kenton to imagine the desperate case, and in spite of his +disbelief in the man and all he said, Kenton could not keep his hardness +of heart towards him. "I don't know what you're after, young man," he +began. "But if you expect me to receive you under my roof again--" + +"Oh, I don't, judge, I don't!" Bittridge interposed. "All I want is to +be able to tell my mother--I don't care for anybody else--that I saw +you, and you allowed me to say that I was truly sorry for the pain--if +it was pain; or annoyance, anyway--that I had caused you, and to go back +to her with the hope of atoning for it sometime or somehow. That's all." + +"Look here!" cried Renton. "What have you written to my daughter for?" + +"Wasn't that natural? I prized her esteem more than I do yours even; but +did I ask her anything more than I've asked you? I didn't expect her to +answer me; all I wanted was to have her believe that I wasn't as black +as I was painted--not inside, anyway. You know well enough--anybody +knows--that I would rather have her think well of me than any one else +in this world, except my mother. I haven't got the gift of showing out +what's good in me, if there is any good, but I believe Miss Ellen would +want to think well of me if I gave her a chance. If ever there was an +angel on earth, she's one. I don't deny that I was hopeful of mercy from +her, because she can't think evil, but I can lay my hand on my heart and +say that I wasn't selfish in my hopes. It seemed to me that it was +her due to understand that a man whom she had allowed to be her friend +wasn't altogether unworthy. That's as near as I can come to putting into +words the motive I had in writing to her. I can't even begin to put +into words the feeling I have towards her. It's as if she was something +sacred." + +This was the feeling Renton himself had towards his daughter, and for +the first time he found himself on common ground with the scapegrace +who professed it, and whose light, mocking face so little enforced his +profession. If Bittridge could have spoken in the dark, his words might +have carried a conviction of his sincerity, but there, in plain day, +confronting the father of Ellen, who had every wish to believe him true, +the effect was different. Deep within his wish to think the man honest, +Kenton recoiled from him. He vaguely perceived that it was because she +could not think evil that this wretch had power upon her, and he was +sensible, as he had not been before, that she had no safety from him +except in absence. He did not know what to answer; he could not repel +him in open terms, and still less could he meet him with any words that +would allow him to resume his former relations with his family. He said, +finally: "We will let matters stand. We are going to Europe in a week, +and I shall not see you again. I will tell Mrs. Kenton what you say." + +"Thank you, judge. And tell her that I appreciate your kindness more +than I can say!" The judge rose from his chair and went towards the +window, which he had thrown open. "Going to shut up? Let me help you +with that window; it seems to stick. Everything fast up-stairs?" + +"I--I think so," Kenton hesitated. + +"I'll just run up and look," said Bittridge, and he took the stairs two +at a time, before Kenton could protest, when they came out into the hall +together. "It's all right," he reported on his quick return. "I'll just +look round below here," and he explored the ground-floor rooms in turn. +"No, you hadn't opened any other window," he said, glancing finally into +the library. "Shall I leave this paper on your table?" + +"Yes, leave it there," said Kenton, helplessly, and he let Bittridge +close the front door after him, and lock it. + +"I hope Miss Lottie is well," he suggested in handing the key to Kenton. +"And Boyne" he added, with the cordiality of an old family friend. +"I hope Boyne has got reconciled to New York a little. He was rather +anxious about his pigeons when he left, I understand. But I guess +Dick's man has looked after them. I'd have offered to take charge of the +cocoons myself if I'd had a chance." He walked, gayly chatting, across +the intervening lawn with Kenton to his son's door, where at sight of +him bra. Richard Kenton evanesced into the interior so obviously that +Bittridge could not offer to come in. "Well, I shall see you all when +you come back in the fall, judge, and I hope you'll have a pleasant +voyage and a good time in Europe." + +"Thank you," said Kenton, briefly. + +"Remember me to the ladies!" and Bittridge took off his hat with his +left hand, while he offered the judge his right. "Well, good-bye!" + +Kenton made what response he could, and escaped in-doors, where his +daughter-in-law appeared from the obscurity into which she had retired +from Bittridge. "Well, that follow does beat all! How, in the world did +he find you, father?" + +"He came into the house," said the judge, much abashed at his failure to +deal adequately with Bittridge. He felt it the more in the presence of +his son's wife. "I couldn't, seem to get rid of him in any way short of +kicking him out." + +"No, there's nothing equal to his impudence. I do believe he would have +come in here, if he hadn't seen me first. Did you tell him when you were +going back, father? Because he'd be at the train to see you off, just as +sure!" + +"No, I didn't tell him," said Kenton, feeling move shaken now from the +interview with Bittridge than he had realized before. He was ashamed to +let Mary know that he had listened to Bittridge's justification, which +he now perceived was none, and he would have liked to pretend that he +had not silently condoned his offences, but Mary did not drive him to +these deceptions by any further allusions to Bittridge. + +"Well, now, you must go into the sitting-room and lie down on the +lounge; I promised Dick to make you. Or would you rather go up-stairs to +your room?" + +"I think I'll go to my room," said Kenton. + +He was asleep there on the bed when Richard came home to dinner and +looked softly in. He decided not to wake him, and Mary said the sleep +would do him more good than the dinner. At table they talked him over, +and she told her husband what she knew of the morning's adventure. + +"That was pretty tough for father," said Richard. "I wouldn't go into +the house with him, because I knew he wanted to have it to himself; and +then to think of that dirty hound skulking in! Well, perhaps it's for +the best. It will make it easier, for father to go and leave the place, +and they've got to go. They've got to put the Atlantic Ocean between +Ellen and that fellow." + +"It does seem as if something might be done," his wife rebelled. + +"They've done the best that could be done," said Richard. "And if +that skunk hasn't got some sort of new hold upon father, I shall be +satisfied. The worst of it is that it will be all over town in an hour +that Bittridge has made up with us. I don't blame father; he couldn't +help it; he never could be rude to anybody." + +"I think I'll try if I can't be rude to Mr. Bittridge, if he ever +undertakes to show in my pretence that he has made it up with us," said +Mary. + +Richard tenderly found out from his father's shamefaced reluctance, +later, that no great mischief had been done. But no precaution on his +part availed to keep Bittridge from demonstrating the good feeling +between himself and the Kentons when the judge started for New York the +next afternoon. He was there waiting to see him off, and he all but +took the adieus out of Richard's hands. He got possession of the judge's +valise, and pressed past the porter into the sleeping-car with it, and +remained lounging on the arm of the judge's seat, making conversation +with him and Richard till the train began to move. Then he ran outside, +and waved his hand to the judge's window in farewell, before all that +leisure of Tuskingum which haunted the arrival and departure of the +trains. + +Mary Kenton was furious when her husband came home and reported the fact +to her. + +"How in the world did he find out when father was going?" + +"He must have come to all the through trains since he say him yesterday. +But I think even you would have been suited, Mary, if you had seen his +failure to walk off from the depot arm-in-arm with me: + +"I wouldn't have been suited with anything short of your knocking, him +down, Dick." + +"Oh, that wouldn't have done," said Richard. After a while he added, +patiently, "Ellen is making a good deal of trouble for us." + +This was what Mary was thinking herself, and it was what she might have +said, but since Dick had said it she was obliged to protest. "She isn't +to blame for it." + +"Oh, I know she isn't to blame." + + + + +V. + +The father of the unhappy girl was of the same mixed mind as he rode +sleeplessly back to New York in his berth, and heard the noises of +slumber all round him. From time to time he groaned softly, and +turned from one cheek to the other. Every half-hour or so he let his +window-curtain fly up, and lay watching the landscape fleeting past; and +then he pulled the curtain down again and tried to sleep. After passing +Albany he dozed, but at Poughkeepsie a zealous porter called him +by mistake, and the rest of the way to New York he sat up in the +smoking-room. It seemed a long while since he had drowsed; the thin nap +had not rested him, and the old face that showed itself in the glass, +with the frost of a two days' beard on it, was dry-eyed and limply +squared by the fall of the muscles at the corners of the chin. + +He wondered how he should justify to his wife the thing which he felt as +accountable for having happened to him as if he could have prevented it. +It would not have happened, of course, if he had not gone to Tuskingum, +and she could say that to him; now it seemed to him that his going, +which had been so imperative before he went, was altogether needless. +Nothing but harm had come of it, and it had been a selfish indulgence of +a culpable weakness. + +It was a little better for Kenton when he found himself with his family, +and they went down together to the breakfast which the mother had +engaged the younger children to make as pleasant as they could for their +father, and not worry him with talk about Tuskingum. They had, in fact, +got over their first season of homesickness, and were postponing their +longing for Tuskingum till their return from Europe, when they would all +go straight out there. Kenton ran the gauntlet of welcome from the black +elevator-boys and bell-boys and the head-waiter, who went before him to +pull out the judge's chair, with commanding frowns to his underlings +to do the like for the rest of the family; and as his own clumsy Irish +waiter stood behind his chair, breathing heavily upon the judge's head, +he gave his order for breakfast, with a curious sense of having got home +again from some strange place. He satisfied Boyne that his pigeons and +poultry had been well cared for through the winter, and he told Lottie +that he had not met much of anybody except Dick's family, before he +recollected seeing half a dozen of her young men at differed times. She +was not very exacting about them and her mind seemed set upon Europe, or +at least she talked of nothing else. Ellen was quiet as she always was, +but she smiled gently on her father, and Mrs. Kenton told him of the +girl's preparations for going, and congratulated herself on their wisdom +in having postponed their sailing, in view of all they had to do; and +she made Kenton feel that everything was in the best possible shape. As +soon as she got him alone in their own room, she said, "Well, what is +it, poppa?" + +Then he had to tell her, and she listened with ominous gravity. She did +not say that now he could see how much better it would have been if he +had not gone, but she made him say it for her; and she would not let +him take comfort in the notion of keeping the fact of his interview with +Bittridge from Ellen. "It would be worse than useless. He will write to +her about it, and then she will know that we have been, concealing it." + +Kenton was astonished at himself for not having thought of that. "And +what are you going to do, Sarah?" + +"I am going to tell her," said Mrs. Kenton. + +"Why didn't poppa tell me before?" the girl perversely demanded, as soon +as her another had done so. + +"Ellen, you are a naughty child! I have a great mind not to have a word +more to say to you. Your father hasn't been in the house an hour. Did +you want him to speak before Lottie and Boyne!" + +"I don't see why he didn't tell me himself. I know there is something +you are keeping back. I know there is some word--" + +"Oh, you poor girl!" said her mother, melting into pity against all +sense of duty. "Have we ever tried to deceive you?" + +"No," Ellen sobbed, with her face in her hands. "Now I will tell you +every word that passed," said Mrs. Kenton, and she told, as well as she +could remember, all that the judge had repeated from Bittridge. "I don't +say he isn't ashamed of himself," she commented at the end. "He ought to +be, and, of course, he would be glad to be in with us again when we go +back; but that doesn't alter his character, Ellen. Still, if you can't +see that yourself, I don't want to make you, and if you would rather go +home to Tuskingum, we will give up the trip to Europe." + +"It's too late to do that now," said the girl, in cruel reproach. + +Her mother closed her lips resolutely till she could say, "Or you can +write to him if you want to." + +"I don't want to," said Ellen, and she dragged herself up out of her +chair, and trailed slowly out of the room without looking at her mother. + +"Well?" the judge asked, impatiently, when he came in as soon after this +as he decently could. They observed forms with regard to talking about +Ellen which, after all, were rather for themselves than for her; Mrs. +Kenton, at least, knew that the girl knew when they were talking about +her. + +"She took it as well as I expected." + +"What is she going to do?" + +"She didn't say. But I don't believe she will do anything." + +"I wish I had taken our tickets for next Saturday," said Kenton. + +"Well, we must wait now," said his wife. "If he doesn't write to her, +she won't write to him." + +"Has she ever answered that letter of his?" + +"No, and I don't believe she will now." + +That night Ellen came to her mother and said she need not be afraid of +her writing to Bittridge. "He hasn't changed, if he was wrong, by coming +and saying those things to poppa, and nothing has changed." + +"That is the way I hoped you would see it; Ellen." Her mother looked +wistfully at her, but the girl left her without letting her satisfy the +longing in the mother's heart to put her arms round her child, and pull +her head down upon her breast for a cry. + +Kenton slept better that night than his wife, who was kept awake by a +formless foreboding. For the week that followed she had the sense of +literally pushing the hours away, so that at times she found herself +breathless, as if from some heavy physical exertion. At such times she +was frantic with the wish to have the days gone, and the day of their +sailing come, but she kept her impatience from her husband and children, +and especially from Ellen. The girl was passive enough; she was almost +willing, and in the preparation for their voyage she did her share of +the shopping, and discussed the difficult points of this business with +her mother and sister as if she had really been thinking about it all. +But her mother doubted if she had, and made more of Ellen's sunken eyes +and thin face than of her intelligent and attentive words. It was these +that she reported to her husband, whom she kept from talking with Ellen, +and otherwise quelled. + +"Let her alone," she insisted, one morning of the last week. "What can +you do by speaking to her about it? Don't you see that she is making the +best fight she can? You will weaken her if you interfere. It's less than +a week now, and if you can only hold out, I know she can." + +Kenton groaned. "Well, I suppose you're right, Sarah. But I don't like +the idea of forcing her to go, unless--" + +"Then you had better write to that fellow, and ask him to come and get +her." + +This shut Kenton's mouth, and he kept on with his shaving. When he +had finished he felt fresher, if not stronger, and he went down to +breakfast, which he had alone, not only with reference to his own +family, but all the other guests of the hotel. He was always so early +that sometimes the dining-room was not open; when this happened, he used +to go and buy a newspaper at the clerk's desk, for it was too early then +for the news-stand to be open. It happened so that morning, and he got +his paper without noticing the young man who was writing his name in +the hotel register, but who looked briskly up when the clerk bade Kenton +good-morning by name. + +"Why, judge!" he said, and he put out a hand which Kenton took with +trembling reluctance and a dazed stare. "I thought you sailed last +Saturday!" + +"We sail next Saturday," said Kenton. + +"Well, well! Then I misunderstood," said Bittridge, and he added: "Why, +this is money found in the road! How are all the family? I've got my +mother here with me; brought her on for a kind of a little outing. +She'll be the most surprised woman in New York when I tell her you're +here yet. We came to this hotel because we knew you had been here, but +we didn't suppose you were here! Well! This is too good! I saw Dick, +Friday, but he didn't say anything about your sailing; I suppose he +thought I knew. Didn't you tell me you were going in a week, that day in +your house?" + +"Perhaps I did," Kenton faltered out, his eyes fixed on Bittridge's with +a helpless fascination. + +"Well, it don't matter so long as you're here. Mother's in the parlor +waiting for me; I won't risk taking you to her now, judge--right off the +train, you know. But I want to bring her to call on Mrs. Kenton as soon +after breakfast as you'll let me. She just idolizes Mrs. Kenton, from +what I've told her about her. Our rooms ready?" He turned to the +clerk, and the clerk called "Front!" to a bellboy, who ran up and took +Bittridge's hand-baggage, and stood waiting to follow him into the +parlor. "Well, you must excuse me now, judge. So long!" he said, gayly, +and Kenton crept feebly away to the dining-room. + +He must have eaten breakfast, but he was not aware of doing so; and the +events of his leaving the table and going up in the elevator and finding +himself in his wife's presence did not present themselves consecutively, +though they must all have successively occurred. It did not seem to him +that he could tell what he knew, but he found himself doing it, and her +hearing it with strange quiet. + +"Very well," she said. "I must tell Ellen, and, if she wishes, we must +stay in and wait for their call." + +"Yes," the judge mechanically consented. + +It was painful for Mrs. Kenton to see how the girl flushed when she +announced the fact of Bittridge's presence, for she knew what a strife +of hope and shame and pride there was in Ellen's heart. At first she +said that she did not wish to see him, and then when Mrs. Kenton would +not say whether she had better see him or not, she added, vaguely, "If +he has brought his mother--" + +"I think we must see them, Ellen. You wouldn't wish to think you had +been unkind; and he might be hurt on his mother's account. He seems +really fond of her, and perhaps--" + +"No, there isn't any perhaps, momma," said the girl, gratefully. "But I +think we had better see them, too. I think we had better ALL see them." + +"Just as you please, Ellen. If you prefer to meet them alone--" + +"I don't prefer that. I want poppa to be there, and Lottie and Boyne +even." + +Boyne objected when he was told that his presence was requested at this +family rite, and he would have excused himself if the invitation had +been of the form that one might decline. "What do I want to see him +for?" he puffed. "He never cared anything about me in Tuskingum. What's +he want here, anyway?" + +"I wish you to come in, my son," said his mother, and that ended it. + +Lottie was not so tractable. "Very well, momma," she said. "But don't +expect me to speak to him. I have some little self-respect, if the rest +of you haven't. Am I going to shake hands with him! I never took the +least notice of him at home, and I'm not going to here." + +Bittridge decided the question of hand-shaking for her when they met. +He greeted her glooming brother with a jolly "Hello, Boyne!" and without +waiting for the boy's tardy response he said "Hello, Lottie!" to the +girl, and took her hand and kept it in his while he made an elaborate +compliment to her good looks and her gain in weight. She had come +tardily as a proof that she would not have come in at all if she had not +chosen to do so, and Mrs. Bittridge was already seated beside Ellen on +the sofa, holding her hand, and trying to keep her mobile, inattentive +eyes upon Ellen's face. She was a little woman, youthfully dressed, +but not dressed youthfully enough for the dry, yellow hair which curled +tightly in small rings on her skull, like the wig of a rag-doll. Her +restless eyes were round and deep-set, with the lids flung up out of +sight; she had a lax, formless mouth, and an anxious smile, with which +she constantly watched her son for his initiative, while she recollected +herself from time to time, long enough to smooth Ellen's hand between +her own, and say, "Oh, I just think the world of Clarence; and I guess +he thinks his mother is about right, too," and then did not heed what +Ellen answered. + +The girl said very little, and it was Bittridge who talked for all, +dominating the room with a large, satisfied presence, in which the judge +sat withdrawn, his forehead supported on his hand, and his elbow on the +table. Mrs. Kenton held herself upright, with her hands crossed before +her, stealing a look now and then at her daughter's averted face, but +keeping her eyes from Mrs. Bittridge, who, whenever she caught Mrs. +Kenton's glance, said something to her about her Clarence, and how he +used to write home to her at Ballardsville about the Kentons, so +that she felt acquainted with all of them. Her reminiscences were +perfunctory; Mrs. Bittridge had voluntarily but one topic, and that +was herself, either as she was included in the interest her son must +inspire, or as she included him in the interest she must inspire. She +said that, now they had met at last, she was not going to rest till the +Kentons had been over to Ballardsville, and made her a good, long visit; +her son had some difficulty in making her realize that the Kentons were +going to Europe. Then she laughed, and said she kept forgetting; and she +did wish they were all coming back to Tuskingum. + +If it is a merit to treat a fatuous mother with deference, Bittridge had +that merit. His deference was of the caressing and laughing sort, which +took the spectator into the joke of her peculiarities as something they +would appreciate and enjoy with him. She had been a kittenish and petted +person in her youth, perhaps, and now she petted herself, after she had +long ceased to be a kitten. What was respectable and what was pathetic +in her was her wish to promote her son's fortunes with the Kentons, but +she tried to do this from not a very clear understanding of her part, +apparently, and little sense of the means. For Ellen's sake, rather +than hers, the father and mother received her overtures to their liking +kindly; they answered her patiently, and Mrs. Kenton even tried to lead +the way for her to show herself at her best, by talking of her journey +on to New York, and of the city, and what she would see there to +interest her. Lottie and Boyne, sternly aloof together in one of their +momentary alliances, listened to her replies with a silent contempt +that almost included their mother; Kenton bore with the woman humbly and +sadly. + +He was, in fact, rather bewildered with the situation, for which he felt +himself remotely if not immediately responsible. Bittridge was there +among them not only on good terms, but apparently in the character of a +more than tolerated pretendant to Ellen's favor. There were passages of +time is which the father was not sure that the fellow was not engaged +to his daughter, though when these instants were gone he was aware that +there had been no overt love-making between them and Bittridge had never +offered himself. What was he doing there, then? The judge asked himself +that, without being able to answer himself. So far as he could make +out, his wife and he were letting him see Ellen, and show her off to +his mother, mainly to disgust her with them both, and because they were +afraid that if they denied her to him, it would be the worse for them +through her suffering. The judge was not accustomed to apply the tests +by which people are found vulgar or not; these were not of his simple +world; all that he felt about Mrs. Bittridge was that she was a very +foolish, false person, who was true in nothing but her admiration of her +rascal of a son; he did not think of Bittridge as a rascal violently, +but helplessly, and with a heart that melted in pity for Ellen. + +He longed to have these people gone, not so much because he was so +unhappy in their presence as because he wished to learn Ellen's feeling +about them from his wife. She would know, whether Allen said anything +to her or not. But perhaps if Mrs. Kenton had been asked to deliver her +mind on this point at once she would have been a little puled. All that +she could see, and she saw it with a sinking of the heart, was that +Ellen looked more at peace than she had been since Bittridge was last +in their house at Tuskingum. Her eyes covertly followed him as he sat +talking, or went about the room, making himself at home among them, as +if he were welcome with every one. He joked her more than the rest, and +accused her of having become a regular New-Yorker; he said he supposed +that when she came back from Europe she would not know anybody in +Tuskingum; and his mother, playing with Ellen's fingers, as if they had +been the fringe of a tassel, declared that she must not mind him, for he +carried on just so with everybody; at the same time she ordered him to +stop, or she would go right out of the room. + +She gave no other sign of going, and it was her son who had to make the +movement for her at last; she apparently did not know that it was her +part to make it. She said that now the Kentons must come and return her +call, and be real neighborly, just the same as if they were all at home +together. When her son shook hands with every one she did so too, and +she said to each, "Well, I wish you good-morning," and let him push her +before him, in high delight with the joke, out of the room. + +When they were gone the Kentons sat silent, Ellen with a rapt smile on +her thin, flushed face, till Lottie said, "You forgot to ask him if +we might BREATHE, poppa," and paced out of the room in stately scorn, +followed by Boyne, who had apparently no words at the command of his +dumb rage. Kenton wished to remain, and he looked at his wife for +instruction. She frowned, and he took this for a sign that he had better +go, and he went with a light sigh. + +He did not know what else to do with himself, and he went down to the +reading-room. He found Bittridge there, smoking a cigar, and the young +man companionably offered to bestow one upon him; but the judge stiffly +refused, saying he did not wish to smoke just then. He noted that +Bittridge was still in his character of family favorite, and his hand +trembled as he passed it over the smooth knob of his stick, while he +sat waiting for the fellow to take himself away. But Bittridge had +apparently no thought of going. He was looking at the amusements for the +evening in a paper he had bought, and he wished to consult the judge as +to which was the best theatre to go to that night; he said he wanted to +take his mother. Kenton professed not to know much about the New York +theatres, and then Bittridge guessed he must get the clerk to tell him. +But still he did not part with the judge. He sat down beside him, and +told him how glad he was to see his family looking so well, especially +Miss Ellen; he could not remember ever seeing her so strong-looking. He +said that girl had captured his mother, who was in love with pretty much +the whole Kenton family, though. + +"And by-the-way," he added, "I want to thank you and Mrs. Kenton, judge, +for the way you received my mother. You made her feel that she was among +friends. She can't talk about anything else, and I guess I sha'n't have +much trouble in making her stay in New York as long as you're here. She +was inclined to be homesick. The fact is, though I don't care to have it +talked about yet, and I wish you wouldn't say anything to Dick about it +when you write home, I think of settling in New York. I've been offered +a show in the advertising department of one of the big dailies--I'm not +at liberty to say which--and it's a toss-up whether I stay here or go to +Washington; I've got a chance there, too, but it's on the staff of a new +enterprise, and I'm not sure about it. I've brought my mother along to +let her have a look at both places, though she doesn't know it, and I'd +rather you wouldn't speak of it before her; I'm going to take her on to +Washington before we go back. I want to have my mother with me, judge. +It's better for a fellow to have that home-feeling in a large place from +the start; it keeps him out of a lot of things, and I don't pretend to +be better than other people, or not more superhuman. If I've been able +to keep out of scrapes, it's more because I've had my mother near me, +and I don't intend ever to be separated from her, after this, till I +have a home of my own. She's been the guiding-star of my life." + +Kenton was unable to make any formal response, and, in fact, he was so +preoccupied with the question whether the fellow was more a fool or +a fraud that he made no answer at all, beyond a few inarticulate +grumblings of assent. These sufficed for Bittridge, apparently, for he +went on contentedly: "Whenever I've been tempted to go a little wild, +the thought of how mother would feel has kept me on the track like +nothing else would. No, judge, there isn't anything in this world like a +good mother, except the right kind of a wife." + +Kenton rose, and said he believed he must go upstairs. Bittridge said, +"All right; I'll see you later, judge," and swung easily off to advise +with the clerk as to the best theatre. + + + + +VI. + +Kenton was so unhappy that he could not wait for his wife to come to him +in their own room; he broke in upon her and Ellen in the parlor, and at +his coming the girl flitted out, in the noiseless fashion which of late +had made her father feel something ghostlike in her. He was afraid +she was growing to dislike him, and trying to avoid him, and now he +presented himself quite humbly before his wife, as if he had done wrong +in coming. He began with a sort of apology for interrupting, but his +wife said it was all right, and she added, "We were not talking about +anything in particular." She was silent, and then she added again: +"Sometimes I think Ellen hasn't very fine perceptions, after all. She +doesn't seem to feel about people as I supposed she would." + +"You mean that she doesn't feel as you would suppose about those +people?" + +Mrs. Kenton answered, obliquely. "She thinks it's a beautiful thing in +him to be so devoted to his mother." + +"Humph! And what does she think of his mother?" + +"She thinks she has very pretty hair." + +Mrs. Kenton looked gravely down at the work she had in her hands, and +Kenton did not know what to make of it all. He decided that his wife +must feel, as he did, a doubt of the child's sincerity, with sense of +her evasiveness more tolerant than his own. Yet he knew that if it +came to a question of forcing Ellen to do what was best for her, +or forbidding her to do what was worst, his wife would have all the +strength for the work, and he none. He asked her, hopelessly enough, "Do +you think she still cares for him?" + +"I think she wishes to give him another trial; I hope she will." Kenton +was daunted, and he showed it. "She has got to convince herself, and +we have got to let her. She believes, of course, that he's here on her +account, and that flatters her. Why should she be so different from +other girls?" Mrs. Kenton demanded of the angry protest in her husband's +eye. + +His spirit fell, and he said, "I only wish she were more like them." + +"Well, then, she is just as headstrong and as silly, when it comes to a +thing like this. Our only hope is to let her have her own way." + +"Do you suppose he cares for her, after all?" + +Mrs. Kenton was silent, as if in exhaustive self-question. Then she +answered: "No, I don't in that way. But he believes he can get her." + +"Then, Sarah, I think we have a duty to the poor child. You must tell +her what you have told me." + +Mrs. Kenton smiled rather bitterly, in recognition of the fact that the +performance of their common duty must fall wholly to her. But she merely +said: "There is no need of my telling her. She knows it already." + +"And she would take him in spite of knowing that he didn't really care +for her?" + +"I don't say that. She wouldn't own it to herself." + +"And what are you going to do?" + +"Nothing. We must let things take their course." + +They had a great deal more talk that came to the same end. They played +their sad comedy, he in the part of a father determined to save his +child from herself, and she in hers of resisting and withholding him. +It ended as it had so often ended before--he yielded, with more faith in +her wisdom than she had herself. + +At luncheon the Bittridges could not join the Kentons, or be asked to do +so, because the table held only four, but they stopped on their way to +their own table, the mother to bridle and toss in affected reluctance, +while the son bragged how he had got the last two tickets to be had that +night for the theatre where he was going to take his mother. He seemed +to think that the fact had a special claim on the judge's interest, and +she to wish to find out whether Mrs. Kenton approved of theatre-going. +She said she would not think of going in Ballardsville, but she supposed +it was more rulable in New York. + +During the afternoon she called at the Kenton apartment to consult the +ladies about what she ought to wear. She said she had nothing but a +black 'barege' along, and would that do with the hat she had on? She had +worn it to let them see, and now she turned her face from aide to side +to give them the effect of the plumes, that fell like a dishevelled +feather-duster round and over the crown. Mrs. Kenton could only say that +it would do, but she believed that it was the custom now for ladies to +take their hats off in the theatre. + +Mrs. Bittridge gave a hoarse laugh. "Oh, dear! Then I'll have to fix my +hair two ways? I don't know what Clarence WILL say." + +The mention of her son's name opened the way for her to talk of him in +relation to herself, and the rest of her stay passed in the celebration +of his filial virtues, which had been manifest from the earliest period. +She could not remember that she ever had to hit the child a lick, she +said, or that he had ever made her shed a tear. + +When she went, Boyne gloomily inquired, "What makes her hair so much +darker at the roots than it is at the points?" and his mother snubbed +him promptly. + +"You had no business to be here, Boyne. I don't like boys hanging about +where ladies are talking together, and listening." + +This did not prevent Lottie from answering, directly for Boyne, and +indirectly for Ellen, "It's because it's begun to grow since the last +bleach." + +It was easier to grapple with Boyne than with Lottie, and Mrs. Kenton +was willing to allow her to leave the room with her brother unrebuked. +She was even willing to have had the veil lifted from Mrs. Bittridge's +hair with a rude hand, if it world help Ellen. + +"I don't want you to think, momma," said the girl, "that I didn't know +about her hair, or that I don't see how silly she is. But it's all the +more to his credit if he can be so good to her, and admire her. Would +you like him better if he despised her?" + +Mrs. Kenton felt both the defiance and the secret shame from which it +sprang in her daughter's words; and she waited for a moment before she +answered, "I would like to be sure he didn't!" + +"If he does, and if he hides it from her, it's the same as if he didn't; +it's better. But you all wish to dislike him." + +"We don't wish to dislike him, Ellen, goodness knows. But I don't think +he would care much whether we disliked him or not. I am sure your poor +father and I would be only too glad to like him." + +"Lottie wouldn't," said Ellen, with a resentment her mother found +pathetic, it was so feeble and aimless. + +"Lottie doesn't matter," she said. She could not make out how nearly +Ellen was to sharing the common dislike, or how far she would go in +fortifying herself against it. She kept with difficulty to her negative +frankness, and she let the girl leave the room with a fretful sigh, as +if provoked that her mother would not provoke her further. There were +moments when Mrs. Kenton believed that Ellen was sick of her love, and +that she would pluck it out of her heart herself if she were left alone. +She was then glad Bittridge had come, so that Ellen might compare with +the reality the counterfeit presentment she had kept in her fancy; and +she believed that if she could but leave him to do his worst, it would +be the best for Ellen. + +In the evening, directly after dinner, Bittridge sent up his name for +Mrs. Kenton. The judge had remained to read his paper below, and Lottie +and Boyne had gone to some friends in another apartment. It seemed to +Mrs. Kenton a piece of luck that she should be able to see him alone, +and she could not have said that she was unprepared for him to come in, +holding his theatre-tickets explanatorily in his hand, or surprised when +he began: + +"Mrs. Kenton, my mother's got a bad headache, and I've come to ask a +favor of you. She can't use her ticket for to-night, and I want you to +let Miss Ellen come with me. Will you?" + +Bittridge had constituted himself an old friend of the whole family from +the renewal of their acquaintance, and Mrs. Kenton was now made aware of +his being her peculiar favorite, in spite of the instant repulsion she +felt, she was not averse to what he proposed. Her fear was that Ellen +would be so, or that she could keep from influencing her to this test +of her real feeling for Bittridge. "I will ask her, Mr. Bittridge," she +said, with a severity which was a preliminary of the impartiality she +meant to use with Ellen. + +"Well, that's right," he answered, and while she went to the girl's room +he remained examining the details of the drawing-room decorations in +easy security, which Mrs. Kenton justified on her return. + +"Ellen will be ready to go with you, Mr. Bittridge." + +"Well, that's good," said the young man, and while he talked on she sat +wondering at a nature which all modesty and deference seemed left +out of, though he had sometimes given evidence of his intellectual +appreciation of these things. He talked to Mrs. Kenton not only as if +they were in every-wise equal, but as if they were of the same age, +almost of the same sex. + +Ellen came in, cloaked and hatted, with her delicate face excited in +prospect of the adventure; and her mother saw Bittridge look at her with +more tenderness than she had ever seen in him before. "I'll take good +care of her, Mrs. Kenton," he said, and for the first time she felt +herself relent a little towards him. + +A minute after they were gone Lottie bounced into the room, followed by +Boyne. + +"Momma!" she shouted, "Ellen isn't going to the theatre with that +fellow?" + +"Yes, she is." + +"And you let her, momma! Without a chaperon?" + +Boyne's face had mirrored the indignation in his sister's, but at +this unprecedented burst of conventionality he forgot their momentary +alliance. "Well, you're a pretty one to talk about chaperons! Walking +all over Tuskingum with fellows at night, and going buggy-riding with +everybody, and out rowing, and here fairly begging Jim Plumpton to come +down to the steamer and see you off again!" + +"Shut up!" Lottie violently returned, "or I'll tell momma how you've +been behaving with Rita Plumpton yourself." + +"Well, tell!" Boyne defied her. + +"Oh, it don't matter what a brat of a boy says or does, anyway," said +Lottie. "But I think Ellen is disgracing the family. Everybody in the +hotel is laughing at that wiggy old Mrs. Bittridge, with her wobbly +eyes, and they can see that he's just as green! The Plumptons have been +laughing so about them, and I told them that we had nothing to do with +them at home, and had fairly turned Bittridge out of the house, but he +had impudence enough for anything; and now to find Ellen going off to +the theatre with him alone!" + +Lottie began to cry with vexation as she whipped out of the room, and +Boyne, who felt himself drawn to her side again, said, very seriously: +"Well, it ain't the thing in New York, you know, momma; and anybody can +see what a jay Bittridge is. I think it's too bad to let her." + +"It isn't for you to criticise your mother, Boyne," said Mrs. Kenton, +but she was more shaken than she would allow. Her own traditions were so +simple that the point of etiquette which her children had urged had not +occurred to her. The question whether Ellen should go with Bittridge at +all being decided, she would, of course, go in New York as she would go +in Tuskingum. Now Mrs. Kenton perceived that she must not, and she had +her share of humiliation in the impression which his mother, as her +friend, apparently, was making with her children's acquaintances in the +hotel. If they would think everybody in Tuskingum was like her, it +would certainly be very unpleasant, but she would not quite own this +to herself, still less to a fourteen-year-old boy. "I think what your +father and I decide to be right will be sufficient excuse for you with +your friends." + +"Does father know it?" Boyne asked, most unexpectedly. + +Having no other answer ready, Mrs. Kenton said, "You had better go to +bed, my son." + +"Well," he grumbled, as he left the room, "I don't know where all the +pride of the Kentons is gone to." + +In his sense of fallen greatness he attempted to join Lottie in her +room, but she said, "Go away, nasty thing!" and Boyne was obliged to +seek his own room, where he occupied himself with a contrivance he was +inventing to enable you to close your door and turn off your gas by +a system of pulleys without leaving your bed, when you were tired of +reading. + +Mrs. Kenton waited for her husband in much less comfort, and when he +came, and asked, restlessly, "Where are the children?" she first told +him that Lottie and Boyne were in their rooms before she could bring +herself to say that Ellen had gone to the theatre with Bittridge. + +It was some relief to have him take it in the dull way he did, and to +say nothing worse than, "Did you think it was well to have her!" + +"You may be sure I didn't want her to. But what would she have said if +I had refused to let her go? I can tell you it isn't an easy matter to +manage her in this business, and it's very easy for you to criticise, +without taking the responsibility." + +"I'm not criticising," said Kenton. "I know you have acted for the +best." + +"The children," said Mrs. Kenton, wishing to be justified further, +"think she ought to have had a chaperon. I didn't think of that; it +isn't the custom at home; but Lottie was very saucy about it, and I had +to send Boyne to bed. I don't think our children are very much comfort +to us." + +"They are good children," Kenton said, said--provisionally. + +"Yes, that is the worst of it. If they were bad, we wouldn't expect any +comfort from them. Ellen is about perfect. She's as near an angel as a +child can be, but she could hardly have given us more anxiety if she had +been the worst girl in the world." + +"That's true," the father sadly assented. + +"She didn't really want to go with him to-night, I'll say that for her, +and if I had said a single word against it she wouldn't have gone. But +all at once, while she sat there trying to think how I could excuse +her, she began asking me what she should wear. There's something strange +about it, Rufus. If I believed in hypnotism, I should say she had gone +because he willed her to go." + +"I guess she went because she wanted to go because she's in love with +him," said Kenton, hopelessly. + +"Yes," Mrs. Kenton agreed. "I don't see how she can endure the sight of +him. He's handsome enough," she added, with a woman's subjective logic. +"And there's something fascinating about him. He's very graceful, and +he's got a good figure." + +"He's a hound!" said Kenton, exhaustively. + +"Oh yes, he's a hound," she sighed, as if there could be no doubt on +that point. "It don't seem right for him to be in the same room with +Ellen. But it's for her to say. I feel more and more that we can't +interfere without doing harm. I suppose that if she were not so +innocent herself she would realize what he was better. But I do think he +appreciates her innocence. He shows more reverence for her than for any +one else." + +"How was it his mother didn't go?" asked Kenton. + +"She had a headache, he said. But I don't believe that. He always +intended to get Ellen to go. And that's another thing Lottie was vexed +about; she says everybody is laughing at Mrs. Bittridge, and it's +mortifying to have people take her for a friend of ours." + +"If there were nothing worse than that," said Kenton, "I guess we could +live through it. Well, I don't know how it's going to all end." + +They sat talking sadly, but finding a certain comfort in their mutual +discouragement, and in their knowledge that they were doing the best +they could for their child, whose freedom they must not infringe so far +as to do what was absolutely best; and the time passed not so heavily +till her return. This was announced by the mounting of the elevator to +their landing, and then by low, rapid pleading in a man's voice outside. +Kenton was about to open the door, when there came the formless noise of +what seemed a struggle, and Ellen's voice rose in a muffed cry: "Oh! Oh! +Let me be! Go away! I hate you!" Kenton the door open, and Ellen burst +in, running to hide her face in her mother's breast, where she sobbed +out, "He--he kissed me!" like a terrified child more than an insulted +woman. Through the open door came the clatter of Bittridge's feet as he +ran down-stairs. + + + + +VII. + +When Mrs. Kenton came from quieting the hysterical girl in her room she +had the task, almost as delicate and difficult, of quieting her husband. +She had kept him, by the most solemn and exhaustive entreaty, from +following Bittridge downstairs and beating him with his stick, and now +she was answerable to him for his forbearance. "If you don't behave +yourself, Rufus," she had to say, "you will have some sort of stroke. +After all, there's no harm done." + +"No harm! Do you call it no harm for that hound to kiss Ellen?" + +"He wouldn't have attempted it unless something had led up to it, I +suppose." + +"Sarah! How can you speak so of that angel?" + +"Oh, that angel is a girl like the rest. You kissed me before we were +engaged." + +"That was very different." + +"I don't see how. If your daughter is so sacred, why wasn't her mother? +You men don't think your wives are sacred. That's it!" + +"No, no, Sarah! It's because I don't think of you as apart from myself, +that I can't think of you as I do of Ellen. I beg your pardon if I +seemed to set her above you. But when I kissed you we were very young, +and we lived in a simple day, when such things meant no harm; and I was +very fond of you, and you were the holiest thing in the world to me. Is +Ellen holy to that fellow?" + +"I know," Mrs. Kenton relented. "I'm not comparing him to you. And there +is a difference with Ellen. She isn't like other girls. If it had been +Lottie--" + +"I shouldn't have liked it with Lottie, either," said the major, +stiffly. "But if it had been Lottie she would have boxed his ears for +him, instead of running to you. Lottie can take care of herself. And I +will take care of Ellen. When I see that scoundrel in the morning--" + +"What will you do, an old man like you! I can tell you, it's something +you've just got to bear it if you don't want the scandal to fill the +whole hotel. It's a very fortunate thing, after all. It'll put an end to +the whole affair." + +"Do you think so, Sarah? If I believed that. What does Ellen say?" + +"Nothing; she won't say anything--just cries and hides her face. I +believe she is ashamed of having made a scene before us. But I know that +she's so disgusted with him that she will never look at him again, and +if it's brought her to that I should think his kissing her the greatest +blessing in the world to us all. Yes, Ellen!" + +Mrs. Kenton hurried off at a faint call from the girl's room, and when +she came again she sat down to a long discussion of the situation with +her husband, while she slowly took down her hair and prepared it for +the night. Her conclusion, which she made her husband's, was that it +was most fortunate they should be sailing so soon, and that it was the +greatest pity they were not sailing in the morning. She wished him to +sleep, whether she slept herself or not, and she put the most hopeful +face possible upon the matter. "One thing you can rest assured of, +Rufus, and that is that it's all over with Ellen. She may never speak to +you about him, and you mustn't ever mention him, but she feels just as +you could wish. Does that satisfy you? Some time I will tell you all she +says." + +"I don't care to hear," said Kenton. "All I want is for him to keep away +from me. I think if he spoke to me I should kill him." + +"Rufus!" + +"I can't help it, Sarah. I feel outraged to the bottom of my soul. I +could kill him." + +Mrs. Kenton turned her head and looked steadfastly at him over her +shoulder. "If you strike him, if you touch him, Mr. Kenton, you will +undo everything that the abominable wretch has done for Ellen, and you +will close my mouth and tie my hands. Will you promise that under no +provocation whatever will you do him the least harm? I know Ellen better +than you do, and I know that you will make her hate you unless--" + +"Oh, I will promise. You needn't be afraid. Lord help me!" Kenton +groaned. "I won't touch him. But don't expect me to speak to him." + +"No, I don't expect that. He won't offer to speak to you." + +They slept, and in the morning she stayed to breakfast with Ellen +in their apartment, and let her husband go down with their younger +children. She could trust him now, whatever form his further trial +should take, and he felt that he was pledging himself to her anew, when +Bittridge came hilariously to meet him in the reading-room, where he +went for a paper after breakfast. + +"Ah, judge!" said the young man, gayly. "Hello, Boyne!" he added to the +boy, who had come with his father; Lottie had gone directly up-stairs +from the breakfast-room. "I hope you're all well this morning? Play not +too much for Miss Ellen?" + +Kenton looked him in the face without answering, and then tried to get +away from him, but Bittridge followed him up, talking, and ignoring his +silence. + +"It was a splendid piece, judge. You must take Mrs. Kenton. I know +you'll both like it. I haven't ever seen Miss Ellen so interested. I +hope the walk home didn't fatigue her. I wanted to get a cab, but she +would walk." The judge kept moving on, with his head down. He did not +speak, and Bittridge was forced to notice his silence. "Nothing the +matter, I hope, with Miss Ellen, judge?" + +"Go away," said the judge, in a low voice, fumbling the head of his +stick. + +"Why, what's up?" asked Bittridge, and he managed to get in front of +Kenton and stay him at a point where Kenton could not escape. It was a +corner of the room to which the old man had aimlessly tended, with no +purpose but to avoid him: + +"I wish you to let me alone, sir," said Kenton at last. "I can't speak +to you." + +"I understand what you mean, judge," said Bittridge, with a grin, all +the more maddening because it seemed involuntary. "But I can explain +everything. I just want a few words with you. It's very important; it's +life or death with me, sir," he said, trying to look grave. "Will you +let me go to your rooms with you?" + +Kenton made no reply. + +Bittridge began to laugh. "Then let's sit down here, or in the ladies' +parlor. It won't take me two minutes to make everything right. If you +don't believe I'm in earnest I know you don't think I am, but I can +assure you--Will you let me speak with you about Miss Ellen?" + +Still Kenton did not answer, shutting his lips tight, and remembering +his promise to his wife. + +Bittridge laughed, as if in amusement at what he had done. "Judge, let +me say two words to you in private! If you can't now, tell me when you +can. We're going back this evening, mother and I are; she isn't well, +and I'm not going to take her to Washington. I don't want to go leaving +you with the idea that I wanted to insult Miss Ellen. I care too much +for her. I want to see you and Mrs. Kenton about it. I do, indeed. And +won't you let me see you, somewhere?" + +Kenton looked away, first to one side and then to another, and seemed +stifling. + +"Won't you speak to me! Won't you answer me? See here! I'd get down on +my knees to you if it would do you any good. Where will you talk with +me?" + +"Nowhere!" shouted Kenton. "Will you go away, or shall I strike you with +my stick?" + +"Oh, I don't think," said Bittridge, and suddenly, in the wantonness of +his baffled effrontery, he raised his hand and rubbed the back of it in +the old man's face. + +Boyne Kenton struck wildly at him, and Bittridge caught the boy by the +arm and flung him to his knees on the marble floor. The men reading in +the arm-chairs about started to their feet; a porter came running, +and took hold of Bittridge. "Do you want an officer, Judge Kenton?" he +panted. + +"No, no!" Kenton answered, choking and trembling. "Don't arrest him. I +wish to go to my rooms, that's all. Let him go. Don't do anything about +it." + +"I'll help you, judge," said the porter. "Take hold of this fellow," he +said to two other porters who came up. "Take him to the desk, and +tell the clerk he struck Judge Kenton, but the judge don't want him +arrested." + +Before Kenton reached the elevator with Boyne, who was rubbing his +knees and fighting back the tears, he heard the clerk's voice saying, +formally, to the porters, "Baggage out of 35 and 37" and adding, as +mechanically, to Bittridge: "Your rooms are wanted. Get out of them at +once!" + +It seemed the gathering of neighborhood about Kenton, where he had felt +himself so unfriended, against the outrage done him, and he felt the +sweetness of being personally championed in a place where he had thought +himself valued merely for the profit that was in him; his eyes filled, +and his voice failed him in thanking the elevator-boy for running before +him to ring the bell of his apartment. + + + + +VIII. + +The next day, in Tuskingum, Richard, Kenton found among the letters of +his last mail one which he easily knew to be from his sister Lottie, +by the tightly curled-up handwriting, and by the unliterary look of the +slanted and huddled address of the envelope: The only doubt he could +have felt in opening it was from the unwonted length at which she had +written him; Lottie usually practised a laconic brevity in her notes, +which were suited to the poverty of her written vocabulary rather than +the affluence of her spoken word. + + "Dear Dick" [her letter ran, tripping and stumbling in its course], + "I have got to tell you about something that has just happened here, + and you needent laugh at the speling, or the way I tell it, but just + pay attention to the thing itself, if you please. That disgusting + Bittridge has been here with his horrid wiggy old mother, and momma + let him take Ellen to the theatre. On the way home he tried to make + her promise she would marry him and at the door he kissed her. They + had an awful night with her hiseterics, and I heard momma going in + and out, and trying to comfort her till daylight, nearly. In the + morning I went down with poppy and Boyne to breakfast, and after I + came up, father went to the reading-room to get a paper, and that + Bittridge was there waiting for him, and wanted to speak with him + about Ellen. Poppa wouldent say a word to him, and he kept + following poppa up, to make him. Boyne says be wouldent take no for + an ansir, and hung on and hungon, till poppa threatened to hitt him + with his cane. Then he saw it was no use, and he took his hand and + rubbed it in poppa's face, and Boyne believes he was trying to pull + poppa's nose. Boyne acted like I would have done; he pounded + Bittridge in the back; but of course Bittridge was too strong for + him, and threw him on the floor, and Boyne scraped his knee so that + it bledd. Then the porters came up, and caught Bittridge, and + wanted to send for a policeman, but father wouldent let them, and + the porters took Bittridge to the desk and the clerk told him to get + out instantly and they left as soon as old Wiggy could get her + things on. I don't know where they went, but he told poppa they + were going home to-day any way. Now, Dick, I don't know what you + will want to do, and I am not going to put you up to anything, but I + know what I would do, pretty well, the first time Bittridge showed + himself in Tuskingum. You can do just as you please, and I don't + ask you to believe me if you're think I'm so exciteable that I cant + tell the truth. I guess Boyne will say the same. Much love to + Mary. Your affectionate sister, + + "Lottie. + + "P. S.--Every word Lottie says is true, but I am not sure he meant + to pull his nose. The reason why he threw me down so easily is, I + have grown about a foot, and I have not got up my strength. BOYNE. + + "This is strictly confidential. They don't know we + are writing. LATTIE." + + +After reading this letter, Richard Kenton tore it into small pieces, so +that there should not be even so much witness as it bore to facts that +seemed to fill him with fury to the throat. His fury was, in agreement +with his temperament, the white kind and cold kind. He was able to keep +it to himself for that reason; at supper his wife knew merely that +he had something on his mind that he did not wish to talk of; and +experience had taught her that it would be useless to try making him +speak. + +He slept upon his wrath, and in the morning early, at an hour when he +knew there would be no loafers in the place, he went to an out-dated +saddler's shop, and asked the owner, a veteran of his father's regiment, +"Welks, do you happen to have a cowhide among your antiquities?" + +"Regular old style?" Welks returned. "Kind they make out of a cow's hide +and use on a man's?" + +"Something of that sort," said Richard, with a slight smile. + +The saddler said nothing more, but rummaged among the riff-raff on an +upper shelf. He got down with the tapering, translucent, wicked-looking +thing in his hand. "I reckon that's what you're after, squire." + +"Reckon it is, Welks," said Richard, drawing it through his tubed left +hand. Then he buttoned it under his coat, and paid the quarter which +Welks said had always been the price of a cowhide even since he could +remember, and walked away towards the station. + +"How's the old colonel" Welks called after him, having forgotten to ask +before. + +"The colonel's all right," Richard called back, without looking round. + +He walked up and down in front of the station. A local train came in +from Ballardsville at 8.15, and waited for the New York special, and +then returned to Ballardsville. Richard had bought a ticket for that +station, and was going to take the train back, but among the passengers +who descended from it when it drew in was one who saved him the trouble +of going. + +Bittridge, with his overcoat hanging on his arm, advanced towards him +with the rest, and continued to advance, in a sort of fascination, after +his neighbors, with the instinct that something was about to happen, +parted on either side of Richard, and left the two men confronted. +Richard did not speak, but deliberately reached out his left hand, which +he caught securely into Bittridge's collar; then he began to beat him +with the cowhide wherever he could strike his writhing and twisting +shape. Neither uttered a word, and except for the whir of the cowhide in +the air, and the rasping sound of its arrest upon the body of Bittridge, +the thing was done in perfect silence. The witnesses stood well back in +a daze, from which they recovered when Richard released Bittridge with +a twist of the hand that tore his collar loose and left his cravat +dangling, and tossed the frayed cowhide away, and turned and walked +homeward. Then one of them picked up Bittridge's hat and set it aslant +on his head, and others helped pull his collar together and tie his +cravat. + +For the few moments that Richard Kenton remained in sight they scarcely +found words coherent enough for question, and when they did, Bittridge +had nothing but confused answers to give to the effect that he did not +know what it meant, but he would find out. He got into a hack and had +himself driven to his hotel, but he never made the inquiry which he +threatened. + +In his own house Richard Kenton lay down awhile, deadly sick, and +his wife had to bring him brandy before he could control his nerves +sufficiently to speak. Then he told her what he had done, and why, and +Mary pulled off his shoes and put a hot-water bottle to his cold feet. +It was not exactly the treatment for a champion, but Mary Kenton was not +thinking of that, and when Richard said he still felt a little sick at +the stomach she wanted him to try a drop of camphor in addition to the +brandy. She said he must not talk, but she wished him so much to talk +that she was glad when he began. + +"It seemed to be something I had to do, Mary, but I would give anything +if I had not been obliged to do it: + +"Yes, I know just how you feel, Dick, and I think it's pretty hard this +has come on you. I do think Ellen might--" + +"It wasn't her fault, Mary. You mustn't blame her. She's had more to +bear than all the rest of us." Mary looked stubbornly unconvinced, and +she was not moved, apparently, by what he went on to say. "The thing now +is to keep what I've done from making more mischief for her." + +"What do you mean, Dick? You don't believe he'll do anything about it, +do you?" + +"No, I'm not afraid of that. His mouth is shut. But you can't tell how +Ellen will take it. She may side with him now." + +"Dick! If I thought Ellen Kenton could be such a fool as that!" + +"If she's in love with him she'll take his part." + +"But she can't be in love with him when she knows how he acted to your +father!" + +"We can't be sure of that. I know how he acted to father; but at this +minute I pity him so that I could take his part against father. And I +can understand how Ellen--Anyway, I must make a clean breast of it. What +day is this Thursday? And they sail Saturday! I must write--" + +He lifted himself on his elbow, and made as if to throw off the shawl +she had spread upon him. + +"No, no! I will write, Dick! I will write to your mother. What shall +I say?" She whirled about, and got the paper and ink out of her +writing-desk, and sat down near him to keep him from getting up, and +wrote the date, and the address, "Dear Mother Kenton," which was the way +she always began her letters to Mrs. Kenton, in order to distinguish her +from her own mother. "Now what shall I say?" + +"Simply this," answered Richard. "That I knew of what had happened in +New York, and when I met him this morning I cowhided him. Ugh!" + +"Well, that won't do, Dick. You've got to tell all about it. Your mother +won't understand." + +"Then you write what you please, and read it to me. It makes me sick to +think of it." Richard closed his eyes, and Mary wrote: + + "DEAR MOTHER KENTON,--I am sitting by Richard, writing at his + request, about what he has done. He received a letter from New York + telling him of the Bittridges' performances there, and how that + wretch had insulted and abused you all. He bought a cowhide; + meaning to go over to Ballardsville, and use it on him there, but B. + came over on the Accommodation this morning, and Richard met him at + the station. He did not attempt to resist, for Richard took him + quite by surprise. Now, Mother Kenton, you know that Richard + doesn't approve of violence, and the dear, sweet soul is perfectly + broken-down by what he had to do. But he had to do it, and he + wishes you to know at, once that he did it. He dreads the effect + upon Ellen, and we must leave it to your judgment about telling her. + Of course, sooner or later she must find it out. You need not be + alarmed about Richard. He is just nauseated a little, and he will + be all right as soon as his stomach is settled. He thinks you ought + to have this letter before you sail, and with affectionate good-byes + to all, in which Dick joins, + + "Your loving daughter, + + "Mary KENTON." + +"There! Will that do?" + +"Yes, that is everything that can be said," answered Richard, and Mary +kissed him gratefully before sealing her letter. + +"I will put a special delivery on it," she said, and her precaution +availed to have the letter delivered to Mrs. Kenton the evening the +family left the hotel, when it was too late to make any change in their +plans, but in time to give her a bad night on the steamer, in her doubt +whether she ought to let the family go, with this trouble behind them. + +But she would have had a bad night on the steamer in any case, with the +heat, and noise, and smell of the docks; and the steamer sailed with her +at six o'clock the next morning with the doubt still open in her mind. +The judge had not been of the least use to her in helping solve it, and +she had not been able to bring herself to attack Lottie for writing to +Richard. She knew it was Lottie who had made the mischief, but she could +not be sure that it was mischief till she knew its effect upon Ellen. +The girl had been carried in the arms of one of the stewards from the +carriage to her berth in Lottie's room, and there she had lain through +the night, speechless and sleepless. + + + + +IX. + +Ellen did not move or manifest any consciousness when the steamer left +her dock and moved out into the stream, or take any note of the tumult +that always attends a great liner's departure. At breakfast-time her +mother came to her from one of the brief absences she made, in the hope +that at each turn she should find her in a different mood, and asked if +she would not have something to eat. + +"I'm not hungry," she answered. "When will it sail?" + +"Why, Ellen! We sailed two hours ago, and the pilot has just left us." + +Ellen lifted herself on her elbow and stared at her. "And you let me!" +she said, cruelly. + +"Ellen! I will not have this!" cried her mother, frantic at the +reproach. "What do you mean by my letting you? You knew that we were +going to sail, didn't you? What else did you suppose we had come to the +steamer for?" + +"I supposed you would let me stay, if I wanted to: But go away, momma, +go away! You're all against me--you, and poppa, and Lottie, and Boyne. +Oh, dear! oh, dear!" She threw herself down in her berth and covered her +face with the sheet, sobbing, while her mother stood by in an anguish of +pity and anger. She wanted to beat the girl, she wanted to throw herself +upon her, and weep with her in the misery which she shared with her. + +Lottie came to the door of the state-room with an arm-load of +long-stemmed roses, the gift of the young Mr. Plumpton, who had not had +so much to be entreated to come down to the steamer and see her off as +Boyne had pretended. "Momma," she said, "I have got to leave these roses +in here, whether Ellen likes it or not. Boyne won't have them in his +room, because he says the man that's with him would have a right to +object; and this is half my room, anyway." + +Mrs. Kenton frowned and shook her head, but Ellen answered from under +the sheet, "I don't mind the roses, Lottie. I wish you'd stay with me a +little while." + +Lottie hesitated, having in mind the breakfast for which the horn +had just sounded. But apparently she felt that one good turn deserved +another, and she answered: "All right; I will, Nell. Momma, you tell +Boyne to hurry, and come to Ellen as soon as he's done, and then I will +go. Don't let anybody take my place." + +"I wish," said Ellen, still from under the sheet, "that momma would have +your breakfast sent here. I don't want Boyne." + +Women apparently do not require any explanation of these swift +vicissitudes in one another, each knowing probably in herself the nerves +from which they proceed. Mrs. Kenton promptly assented, in spite of the +sulky reluctance which Lottie's blue eyes looked at her; she motioned +her violently to silence, and said: "Yes, I will, Ellen. I will send +breakfast for both of you." + +When she was gone, Ellen uncovered her face and asked Lottie to dip a +towel in water and give it to her. As she bathed her eyes she said, "You +don't care, do you, Lottie?" + +"Not very much," said Lottie, unsparingly. "I can go to lunch, I +suppose." + +"Maybe I'll go to lunch with you," Ellen suggested, as if she were +speaking of some one else. + +Lottie wasted neither sympathy nor surprise on the question. "Well, +maybe that would be the best thing. Why don't you come to breakfast?" + +"No, I won't go to breakfast. But you go." + +When Lottie joined her family in the dining-saloon she carelessly +explained that Ellen had said she wanted to be alone. Before the young +man, who was the only other person besides the Kentons at their table, +her mother could not question her with any hope that the bad would not +be made worse, and so she remained silent. Judge Kenton sat with his +eyes fixed on his plate, where as yet the steward had put no breakfast +for him; Boyne was supporting the dignity of the family in one of those +moments of majesty from which he was so apt to lapse into childish +dependence. Lottie offered him another alternative by absently laying +hold of his napkin on the table. + +"That's mine," he said, with husky gloom. + +She tossed it back to him with prompt disdain and a deeply eye-lashed +glance at a napkin on her right. The young man who sat next it said, +with a smile, "Perhaps that's yours-unless I've taken my neighbor's." + +Lottie gave him a stare, and when she had sufficiently punished him for +his temerity said, rather sweetly, "Oh, thank you," and took the napkin. + +"I hope we shall all have use for them before long," the young man +ventured again. + +"Well, I should think as much," returned the girl, and this was the +beginning of a conversation which the young man shared successively with +the judge and Mrs. Kenton as opportunity offered. He gave the judge his +card across the table, and when the judge had read on it, "Rev. Hugh +Breckon," he said that his name was Kenton, and he introduced the young +man formally to his family. Mr. Breckon had a clean-shaven face, with an +habitual smile curving into the cheeks from under a long, straight nose; +his chin had a slight whopper-jaw twist that was charming; his gay eyes +were blue, and a full vein came down his forehead between them from his +smooth hair. When he laughed, which was often, his color brightened. + +Boyne was named last, and then Mr. Breckon said, with a smile that +showed all his white teeth, "Oh yes, Mr. Boyne and I are friends +already--ever since we found ourselves room-mates," and but for us, as +Lottie afterwards noted, they might never have known Boyne was rooming +with him, and could easily have made all sorts of insulting remarks +about Mr. Breckon in their ignorance. + +The possibility seemed to delight Mr. Breckon; he invited her to make +all the insulting remarks she could think of, any way, and professed +himself a loser, so far as her real opinion was withheld from him by +reason of his rashness in giving the facts away. In the electrical +progress of their acquaintance she had begun walking up and down the +promenade with him after they came up from breakfast; her mother had +gone to Ellen; the judge had been made comfortable in his steamer-chair, +and Boyne had been sent about his business. + +"I will try to think some up," she promised him, "as soon as I HAVE +any real opinion of you," and he asked her if he might consider that a +beginning. + +She looked at him out of her indomitable blue eyes, and said, "If it +hadn't been for your card, and the Reverend on it, I should have said +you were an actor." + +"Well, well," said Mr. Breckon, with a laugh, "perhaps I am, in a way. +I oughtn't to be, of course, but if a minister ever forces himself, I +suppose he's acting." + +"I don't see," said Lottie, instantly availing herself of the opening, +"how you can get up and pray, Sunday after Sunday, whether you feel like +it or not." + +The young man said, with another laugh, but not so gay, "Well, the case +has its difficulties." + +"Or perhaps you just read prayers," Lottie sharply conjectured. + +"No," he returned, "I haven't that advantage--if you think it one. I'm a +sort of a Unitarian. Very advanced, too, I'm afraid." + +"Is that a kind of Universalist?" + +"Not--not exactly. There's an old joke--I'm not sure it's very +good--which distinguishes between the sects. It's said that the +Universalists think God is too good to damn them, and the Unitarians +think they are too good to be damned." Lottie shrank a little from him. +"Ah!" he cried, "you think it sounds wicked. Well, I'm sorry. I'm not +clerical enough to joke about serious things." + +He looked into her face with a pretended anxiety. "Oh, I don't know," +she said, with a little scorn. "I guess if you can stand it, I can." + +"I'm not sure that I can. I'm afraid it's more in keeping with an +actor's profession than my own. Why," he added, as if to make a +diversion, "should you have thought I was an actor?" + +"I suppose because you were clean-shaved; and your pronunciation. So +Englishy." + +"Is it? Perhaps I ought to be proud. But I'm not an Englishman. I am a +plain republican American. May I ask if you are English?" + +"Oh!" said Lottie. "As if you thought such a thing. We're from Ohio." + +Mr. Breckon said, "Ah!" Lottie could not make out in just what sense. + +By this time they were leaning on the rail of the promenade, looking +over at what little was left of Long Island, and she said, abruptly: "I +think I will go and see how my father is getting along." + +"Oh, do take me with you, Miss Kenton!" Mr. Breckon entreated. "I am +feeling very badly about that poor old joke. I know you don't think well +of me for it, and I wish to report what I've been saying to your father, +and let him judge me. I've heard that it's hard to live up to Ohio +people when you're at your best, and I do hope you'll believe I have not +been quite at my best. Will you let me come with you?" + +Lottie did not know whether he was making fun of her or not, but she +said, "Oh, it's a free country," and allowed him to go with her. + +His preface made the judge look rather grave; but when he came to the +joke, Kenton laughed and said it was not bad. + +"Oh, but that isn't quite the point," said Mr. Breckon. "The question +is whether I am good in repeating it to a young lady who was seeking +serious instruction on a point of theology." + +"I don't know what she would have done with the instruction if she +had got it," said the judge, dryly, and the young man ventured in her +behalf: + +"It would be difficult for any one to manage, perhaps." + +"Perhaps," Kenton assented, and Lottie could see that he was thinking +Ellen would know what to do with it. + +She resented that, and she was in the offence that girls feel when +their elders make them the subject of comment with their contemporaries. +"Well, I'll leave you to discuss it alone. I'm going to Ellen," she +said, the young man vainly following her a few paces, with apologetic +gurgles of laughter. + +"That's right," her father consented, and then he seized the opening to +speak about Ellen. "My eldest daughter is something of an invalid, but +I hope we shall have her on deck before the voyage is over. She is more +interested in those matters than her sister." + +"Oh!" Mr. Breckon interpolated, in a note of sympathetic interest. He +could not well do more. + +It was enough for Judge Kenton, who launched himself upon the +celebration of Ellen's gifts and qualities with a simple-hearted +eagerness which he afterwards denied when his wife accused him of it, +but justified as wholly safe in view of Mr. Breckon's calling and his +obvious delicacy of mind. It was something that such a person would +understand, and Kenton was sure that he had not unduly praised the +girl. A less besotted parent might have suspected that he had not deeply +interested his listener, who seemed glad of the diversion operated by +Boyne's coming to growl upon his father, "Mother's bringing Ellen up." + +"Oh, then, I mustn't keep your chair," said the minister, and he rose +promptly from the place he had taken beside the judge, and got himself +away to the other side of the ship before the judge could frame a +fitting request for him to stay. + +"If you had," Mrs. Kenton declared, when he regretted this to her, "I +don't know what I would have done. It's bad enough for him to hear you +bragging about the child without being kept to help take care of her, +or keep her amused, as you call it. I will see that Ellen is kept amused +without calling upon strangers." She intimated that if Kenton did not +act with more self-restraint she should do little less than take Ellen +ashore, and abandon him to the voyage alone. Under the intimidation he +promised not to speak of Ellen again. + +At luncheon, where Mr. Breckon again devoted himself to Lottie, he and +Ellen vied in ignoring each other after their introduction, as far as +words went. The girl smiled once or twice at what he was saying to her +sister, and his glance kindled when it detected her smile. He might be +supposed to spare her his conversation in her own interest, she looked +so little able to cope with the exigencies of the talk he kept going. + +When he addressed her she answered as if she had not been listening, and +he turned back to Lottie. After luncheon he walked with her, and their +acquaintance made such a swift advance that she was able to ask him if +he laughed that way with everybody. + +He laughed, and then he begged her pardon if he had been rude. + +"Well, I don't see what there is to laugh at so much. When you ask me +a thing I tell you just what I think, and it seems to set you off in a +perfect gale. Don't you expect people to say what they think?" + +"I think it's beautiful," said the young man, going into the gale, "and +I've got to expecting it of you, at any rate. But--but it's always so +surprising! It isn't what you expect of people generally, is it?" + +"I don't expect it of you," said Lottie. + +"No?" asked Mr. Breckon, in another gale. "Am I so uncandid?" + +"I don't know about uncandid. But I should say you were slippery." + +At this extraordinary criticism the young man looked graver than he had +yet been able to do since the beginning of their acquaintance. He said, +presently, "I wish you would explain what you mean by slippery." + +"You're as close as a trap!" + +"Really?" + +"It makes me tired." + +"If you're not too tired now I wish you would say how." + +"Oh, you understand well enough. You've got me to say what I think about +all sorts of things, and you haven't expressed your opinion on a single, +solitary point?" + +Lottie looked fiercely out to sea, turning her face so as to keep him +from peering around into it in the way he had. For that reason, perhaps, +he did not try to do so. He answered, seriously: "I believe you are +partly right. I'm afraid I haven't seemed quite fair. Couldn't you +attribute my closeness to something besides my slipperiness?" He began +to laugh again. "Can't you imagine my being interested in your opinions +so much more than my own that I didn't care to express mine?" + +Lottie said, impatiently, "Oh, pshaw!" She had hesitated whether to say, +"Rats!" + +"But now," he pursued, "if you will suggest some point on which I can +give you an opinion, I promise solemnly to do so," but he was not very +solemn as he spoke. + +"Well, then, I will," she said. "Don't you think it's very strange, to +say the least, for a minister to be always laughing so much?" + +Mr. Breckon gave a peal of delight, and answered, "Yes, I certainly do." +He controlled himself so far as to say: "Now I think I've been pretty +open with you, and I wish you'd answer me a question. Will you?" + +"Well, I will--one," said Lottie. + +"It may be two or three; but I'll begin with one. Why do you think a +minister ought to be more serious than other men?" + +"Why? Well, I should think you'd know. You wouldn't laugh at a funeral, +would you?" + +"I've been at some funerals where it would have been a relief to laugh, +and I've wanted to cry at some weddings. But you think it wouldn't do?" + +"Of course it wouldn't. I should think you'd know as much as that," said +Lottie, out of patience with him. + +"But a minister isn't always marrying or burying people; and in the +intervals, why shouldn't he be setting them an example of harmless +cheerfulness?" + +"He ought to be thinking more about the other world, I should say." + +"Well, if he believes there is another world--" + +"Why! Don't you?" she broke out on him. + +Mr. Breckon ruled himself and continued--"as strenuously and +unquestionably as he ought, he has greater reason than other men for +gayety through his faith in a happier state of being than this. That's +one of the reasons I use against myself when I think of leaving off +laughing. Now, Miss Kenton," he concluded, "for such a close and +slippery nature, I think I've been pretty frank," and he looked round +and down into her face with a burst of laughter that could be heard +an the other side of the ship. He refused to take up any serious topic +after that, and he returned to his former amusement of making her give +herself away. + +That night Lottie came to her room with an expression so decisive in her +face that Ellen, following it with vague, dark eyes as it showed itself +in the glass at which her sister stood taking out the first dismantling +hairpins before going to bed, could not fail of something portentous in +it. + +"Well," said Lottie, with severe finality, "I haven't got any use +for THAT young man from this time out. Of all the tiresome people, he +certainly takes the cake. You can have him, Ellen, if you want him." + +"What's the matter with him?" asked Ellen, with a voice in sympathy with +the slow movement of her large eyes as she lay in her berth, staring at +Lottie. + +"There's everything the matter, that oughtn't to be. He's too trivial +for anything: I like a man that's serious about one thing in the +universe, at least, and that's just what Mr. Breckon isn't." She went at +such length into his disabilities that by the time she returned to the +climax with which she started she was ready to clamber into the upper +berth; and as she snapped the electric button at its head she repeated, +"He's trivial." + +"Isn't it getting rough?" asked Ellen. "The ship seems to be tipping." + +"Yes, it is," said Lottie, crossly. "Good-night." + +If the Rev. Mr. Breckon was making an early breakfast in the hope of +sooner meeting Lottie, who had dismissed him the night before without +encouraging him to believe that she wished ever to see him again, he +was destined to disappointment. The deputation sent to breakfast by +the paradoxical family whose acquaintance he had made on terms of each +forbidding intimacy, did not include the girl who had frankly provoked +his confidence and severely snubbed it. He had left her brother very +sea-sick in their state-room, and her mother was reported by her father +to be feeling the motion too much to venture out. The judge was, in +fact, the only person at table when Breckon sat down; but when he had +accounted for his wife's absence, and confessed that he did not believe +either of his daughters was coming, Ellen gainsaid him by appearing and +advancing quite steadily along the saloon to the place beside him. It +had not gone so far as this in the judge's experience of a neurotic +invalid without his learning to ask her no questions about herself. He +had always a hard task in refraining, but he had grown able to refrain, +and now he merely looked unobtrusively glad to see her, and asked her +where Lottie was. + +"Oh, she doesn't want any breakfast, she says. Is momma sick, too? +Where's Boyne?" + +The judge reported as to her mother, and Mr. Breckon, after the exchange +of a silent salutation with the girl, had a gleeful moment in describing +Boyne's revolt at the steward's notion of gruel. "I'm glad to see you so +well, Miss Kenton," he concluded. + +"I suppose I will be sick, too, if it gets rougher," she said, and she +turned from him to give a rather compendious order to the table steward. + +"Well, you've got an appetite, Ellen," her father ventured. + +"I don't believe I will eat anything," she checked him, with a falling +face. + +Breckon came to the aid of the judge. "If you're not sick now, I +prophesy you won't be, Miss Kenton. It can't get much rougher, without +doing something uncommon." + +"Is it a storm?" she asked, indifferently. + +"It's what they call half a gale, I believe. I don't know how they +measure it." + +She smiled warily in response to his laugh, and said to her father, "Are +you going up after breakfast, poppa?" + +"Why, if you want to go, Ellen--" + +"Oh, I wasn't asking for that; I am going back to Lottie. But I should +think you would like the air. Won't it do you good?" + +"I'm all right," said the judge, cheered by her show of concern for some +one else. "I suppose it's rather wet on deck?" he referred himself to +Breckon. + +"Well, not very, if you keep to the leeward. She doesn't seem a very wet +boat." + +"What is a wet boat" Ellen asked, without lifting her sad eyes. + +"Well, really, I'm afraid it's largely a superstition. Passengers like +to believe that some boats are less liable to ship seas--to run into +waves--than others; but I fancy that's to give themselves the air of old +travellers." + +She let the matter lapse so entirely that he supposed she had forgotten +it in all its bearings, when she asked, "Have you been across many +times?" + +"Not many-four or five." + +"This is our first time," she volunteered. + +"I hope it won't be your last. I know you will enjoy it." She fell +listless again, and Breckon imagined he had made a break. "Not," he +added, with an endeavor for lightness, "that I suppose you're going for +pleasure altogether. Women, nowadays, are above that, I understand. They +go abroad for art's sake, and to study political economy, and history, +and literature--" + +"My daughter," the judge interposed, "will not do much in that way, I +hope." + +The girl bent her head over her plate and frowned. + +"Oh, then," said Breckon, "I will believe that she's going for purely +selfish enjoyment. I should like to be justified in making that my +object by a good example." + +Ellen looked up and gave him a look that cut him short in his glad note. +The lifting of her eyelids was like the rise of the curtain upon some +scene of tragedy which was all the more impressive because it seemed +somehow mixed with shame. This poor girl, whom he had pitied as an +invalid, was a sufferer from some spiritual blight more pathetic than +broken health. He pulled his mind away from the conjecture that tempted +it and went on: "One of the advantages of going over the fourth or fifth +time is that you're relieved from a discoverer's duties to Europe. I've +got absolutely nothing before me now, but at first I had to examine +every object of interest on the Continent, and form an opinion about +thousands of objects that had no interest for me. I hope Miss Kenton +will take warning from me." + +He had not addressed Ellen directly, and her father answered: "We have +no definite plans as yet, but we don't mean to overwork ourselves even +if we've come for a rest. I don't know," he added, "but we had better +spend our summer in England. It's easier getting about where you know +the language." + +The judge seemed to refer his ideas to Breckon for criticism, and the +young man felt authorized to say, "Oh, so many of them know the language +everywhere now, that it's easy getting about in any country." + +"Yes, I suppose so," the judge vaguely deferred. + +"Which," Ellen demanded of the young man with a nervous suddenness, "do +you think is the most interesting country?" + +He found himself answering with equal promptness, "Oh, Italy, of +course." + +"Can we go to Italy, poppa?" asked the girl. + +"I shouldn't advise you to go there at once" Breckon intervened, +smiling. "You'd find it Pretty hot there now. Florence, or Rome, or +Naples--you can't think of them." + +"We have it pretty hot in Central Ohio," said the judge, with latent +pride in his home climate, "What sort of place is Holland?" + +"Oh, delightful! And the boat goes right on to Rotterdam, you know." + +"Yes. We had arranged to leave it at Boulogne," but we could change. +"Do you think your mother would like Holland?" The judge turned to his +daughter. + +"I think she would like Italy better. She's read more about it," said +the girl. + +"Rise of the Dutch Republic," her father suggested. + +"Yes, I know. But she's read more about Italy!" + +"Oh, well," Breckon yielded, "the Italian lakes wouldn't be impossible. +And you might find Venice fairly comfortable." + +"We could go to Italy, then," said the judge to his daughter, "if your +mother prefers." + +Breckon found the simplicity of this charming, and he tasted a yet finer +pleasure in the duplicity; for he divined that the father was seeking +only to let his daughter have her way in pretending to yield to her +mother's preference. + +It was plain that the family's life centred, as it ought, about this +sad, sick girl, the heart of whose mystery he perceived, on reflection, +he had not the wish to pluck out. He might come to know it, but he would +not try to know it; if it offered itself he might even try not to know +it. He had sometimes found it more helpful with trouble to be ignorant +of its cause. + +In the mean time he had seen that these Kentons were sweet, good +people, as he phrased their quality to himself. He had come to terms of +impersonal confidence the night before with Boyne, who had consulted +him upon many more problems and predicaments of life than could have yet +beset any boy's experience, probably with the wish to make provision for +any possible contingency of the future. The admirable principles which +Boyne evolved for his guidance from their conversation were formulated +with a gravity which Breckon could outwardly respect only by stifling +his laughter in his pillow. He rather liked the way Lottie had tried to +weigh him in her balance and found him, as it were, of an imponderable +levity. With his sense of being really very light at most times, and +with most people, he was aware of having been particularly light with +Lottie, of having been slippery, of having, so far as responding to her +frankness was concerned, been close. He relished the unsparing honesty +with which she had denounced him, and though he did not yet know his +outcast condition with relation to her, he could not think of her +without a smile of wholly disinterested liking. He did not know, as a +man of earlier date would have known, all that the little button in the +judge's lapel meant; but he knew that it meant service in the civil war, +a struggle which he vaguely and impersonally revered, though its details +were of much the same dimness for him as those of the Revolution and +the War of 1812. The modest distrust which had grown upon the bold +self-confidence of Kenton's earlier manhood could not have been more +tenderly and reverently imagined; and Breckon's conjecture of things +suffered for love's sake against sense and conviction in him were his +further tribute to a character which existed, of course, mainly in this +conjecture. It appeared to him that Kenton was held not only in the +subjection to his wife's, judgment, which befalls, and doubtless +becomes, a man after many years of marriage, but that he was in the +actual performance of more than common renunciation of his judgment in +deference to the good woman. She in turn, to be sure, offered herself a +sacrifice to the whims of the sick girl, whose worst whim was having +no wish that could be ascertained, and who now, after two days of her +mother's devotion, was cast upon her own resources by the inconstant +barometer. It had become apparent that Miss Kenton was her father's +favorite in a special sense, and that his partial affection for her +was of much older date than her mother's. Not less charming than her +fondness for her father was the openness with which she disabled his +wisdom because of his partiality to her. + + + + +X + +When they left the breakfast table the first morning of the rough +weather, Breckon offered to go on deck with Miss Kenton, and put her +where she could see the waves. That had been her shapeless ambition, +dreamily expressed with reference to some time, as they rose. Breckon +asked, "Why not now?" and he promised to place her chair on deck where +she could enjoy the spectacle safe from any seas the boat might ship. +Then she recoiled, and she recoiled the further upon her father's +urgence. At the foot of the gangway she looked wistfully up the reeling +stairs, and said that she saw her shawl and Lottie's among the others +solemnly swaying from the top railing. "Oh, then," Breckon pressed her, +"you could be made comfortable without the least trouble." + +"I ought to go and see how Lottie is getting along," she murmured. + +Her father said he would see for her, and on this she explicitly +renounced her ambition of going up. "You couldn't do anything," she +said, coldly. + +"If Miss Lottie is very sea-sick she's beyond all earthly aid," Breckon +ventured. "She'd better be left to the vain ministrations of the +stewardess." + +Ellen looked at him in apparent distrust of his piety, if not of his +wisdom. "I don't believe I could get up the stairs," she said. + +"Well," he admitted, "they're not as steady as land--going stairs." Her +father discreetly kept silence, and, as no one offered to help her, she +began to climb the crazy steps, with Breckon close behind her in latent +readiness for her fall. + +From the top she called down to the judge, "Tell momma I will only stay +a minute." But later, tucked into her chair on the lee of the bulkhead, +with Breckon bracing himself against it beside her, she showed no +impatience to return. "Are they never higher than that" she required +of him, with her wan eyes critically on the infinite procession of the +surges. + +"They must be," Breckon answered, "if there's any truth in common +report. I've heard of their running mountains high. Perhaps they used +rather low mountains to measure them by. Or the measurements may +not have been very exact. But common report never leaves much to the +imagination." + +"That was the way at Niagara," the girl assented; and Breckon obligingly +regretted that he had never been there. He thought it in good taste that +she should not tell him he ought to go. She merely said, "I was there +once with poppa," and did not press her advantage. "Do they think," she +asked, "that it's going to be a very long voyage?" + +"I haven't been to the smoking-room--that's where most of the thinking +is done on such points; the ship's officers never seem to know about +it--since the weather changed. Should you mind it greatly?" + +"I wouldn't care if it never ended," said the girl, with such a note of +dire sincerity that Breckon instantly changed his first mind as to her +words implying a pose. She took any deeper implication from them in +adding, "I didn't know I should like being at sea." + +"Well, if you're not sea-sick," he assented, "there are not many +pleasanter things in life." + +She suggested, "I suppose I'm not well enough to be sea-sick." Then she +seemed to become aware of something provisional in his attendance, and +she said, "You mustn't stay on my account. I can get down when I want +to." + +"Do let me stay," he entreated, "unless you'd really rather not," and +as there was no chair immediately attainable, he crouched on the deck +beside hers. + +"It makes me think," she said, and he perceived that she meant the sea, +"of the cold-white, heavy plunging foam in 'The Dream of Fair Women.' +The words always seemed drenched!" + +"Ah, Tennyson, yes," said Breckon, with a disposition to smile at the +simple-heartedness of the literary allusion. "Do young ladies read +poetry much in Ohio?" + +"I don't believe they do," she answered. "Do they anywhere?" + +"That's one of the things I should like to know. Is Tennyson your +favorite poet?" + +"I don't believe I have any," said Ellen. "I used to like Whither, and +Emerson; aid Longfellow, too." + +"Used to! Don't you now?" + +"I don't read them so much now," and she made a pause, behind which he +fancied her secret lurked. But he shrank from knowing it if he might. + +"You're all great readers in your family," he suggested, as a polite +diversion. + +"Lottie isn't," she answered, dreamily. "She hates it." + +"Ah, I referred more particularly to the others," said Breckon, and +he began to laugh, and then checked himself. "Your mother, and the +judge--and your brother--" + +"Boyne reads about insects," she admitted. + +"He told me of his collection of cocoons. He seems to be afraid it has +suffered in his absence." + +"I'm afraid it has," said Ellen, and then remained silent. + +"There!" the young man broke out, pointing seaward. "That's rather a +fine one. Doesn't that realize your idea of something mountains high? +Unless your mountains are very high in Ohio!" + +"It is grand. And the gulf between! But we haven't any in our part. It's +all level. Do you believe the tenth wave is larger than the rest?" + +"Why, the difficulty is to know which the tenth wave is, or when to +begin counting." + +"Yes," said the girl, and she added, vaguely: "I suppose it's like +everything else in that. We have to make-believe before we can believe +anything." + +"Something like an hypothesis certainly seems necessary," Breckon +assented, with a smile for the gravity of their discourse. "We shouldn't +have the atomic theory without it." She did not say anything, and he +decided that the atomic theory was beyond the range of her reading. He +tried to be more concrete. "We have to make-believe in ourselves before +we can believe, don't we? And then we sometimes find we are wrong!" He +laughed, but she asked, with tragical seriousness: + +"And what ought you to do when you find out you are mistaken in +yourself?" + +"That's what I'm trying to decide," he replied. "Sometimes I feel like +renouncing myself altogether; but usually I give myself another chance. +I dare say if I hadn't been so forbearing I might have agreed with your +sister about my unfitness for the ministry." + +"With Lottie?" + +"She thinks I laugh too much!" + +"I don't see why a minister shouldn't laugh if he feels like it. And if +there's something to laugh at." + +"Ah, that's just the point! Is there ever anything to laugh at? If we +looked closely enough at things, oughtn't we rather to cry?" He laughed +in retreat from the serious proposition. "But it wouldn't do to try +making each other cry instead of laugh, would it? I suppose your sister +would rather have me cry." + +"I don't believe Lottie thought much about it," said Ellen; and at this +point Mr. Breckon yielded to an impulse. + +"I should think I had really been of some use if I had made you laugh, +Miss Kenton." + +"Me?" + +"You look as if you laughed with your whole heart when you did laugh." + +She glanced about, and Breckon decided that she had found him too +personal. "I wonder if I could walk, with the ship tipping so?" she +asked. + +"Well, not far," said Breckon, with a provisional smile, and then he was +frightened from his irony by her flinging aside her wraps and starting +to her feet. Before he could scramble to his own, she had slid down +the reeling promenade half to the guard, over which she seemed about to +plunge. He hurled himself after her; he could not have done otherwise; +and it was as much in a wild clutch for support as in a purpose to save +her that he caught her in his arms and braced himself against the ship's +slant. "Where are you going? What are you trying to do?" he shouted. + +"I wanted to go down-stairs," she protested, clinging to him. + +"You were nearer going overboard," he retorted. "You shouldn't have +tried." He had not fully formulated his reproach when the ship righted +herself with a counter-roll and plunge, and they were swung staggering +back together against the bulkhead. The door of the gangway was within +reach, and Breckon laid hold of the rail beside it and put the girl +within. "Are you hurt?" he asked. + +"No, no; I'm not hurt," she panted, sinking on the cushioned benching +where usually rows of semi-sea-sick people were lying. + +"I thought you might have been bruised against the bulkhead," he said. +"Are you sure you're not hurt that I can't get you anything? From the +steward, I mean?" + +"Only help me down-stairs," she answered. "I'm perfectly well," and +Breckon was so willing on these terms to close the incident that he was +not aware of the bruise on his own arm, which afterwards declared itself +in several primitive colors. "Don't tell them," she added. "I want to +come up again." + +"Why, certainly not," he consented; but Boyne Kenton, who had been an +involuntary witness of the fact from a point on the forward promenade, +where he had stationed himself to study the habits of the stormy petrel +at a moment so favorable to the acquaintance of the petrel (having +left a seasick bed for the purpose), was of another mind. He had been +alarmed, and, as it appeared in the private interview which he demanded +of his mother, he had been scandalized. + +"It is bad enough the way Lottie is always going on with fellows. And +now, if Ellen is going to begin!" + +"But, Boyne, child," Mrs. Kenton argued, in an equilibrium between the +wish to laugh at her son and the wish to box his ears, "how could she +help his catching her if he was to save her from pitching overboard?" + +"That's just it! He will always think that she did it just so he would +have to catch her." + +"I don't believe any one would think that of Ellen," said Mrs. Kenton, +gravely. + +"Momma! You don't know what these Eastern fellows are. There are so few +of them that they're used to having girls throw themselves at them, and +they will think anything, ministers and all. You ought to talk to Ellen, +and caution her. Of course, she isn't like Lottie; but if Lottie's +been behaving her way with Mr. Breckon, he must suppose the rest of the +family is like her." + +"Boyne," said his mother, provisionally, "what sort of person is Mr. +Breckon?" + +"Well, I think he's kind of frivolous." + +"Do you, Boyne?" + +"I don't suppose he means any harm by it, but I don't like to see a +minister laugh so much. I can't hardly get him to talk seriously about +anything. And I just know he makes fun of Lottie. I don't mean that he +always makes fun with me. He didn't that night at the vaudeville, where +I first saw him." + +"What do you mean?" + +"Don't you remember? I told you about it last winter." + +"And was Mr. Breckon that gentleman?" + +"Yes; but he didn't know who I was when we met here." + +"Well, upon my word, Boyne, I think you might have told us before," said +his mother, in not very definite vexation. "Go along, now!" + +Boyne stood talking to his mother, with his hands, which he had not +grown to, largely planted on the jambs of her state-room door. She was +keeping her berth, not so much because she was sea-sick as because it +was the safest place in the unsteady ship to be in. "Do you want me to +send Ellen to you!" + +"I will attend to Ellen, Boyne," his mother snubbed him. "How is +Lottie?" + +"I can't tell whether she's sick or not. I went to see about her and she +motioned me away, and fairly screamed when I told her she ought to keep +out in the air. Well, I must be going up again myself, or--" + +Before lunch, Boyne had experienced the alternative which he did not +express, although his theory and practice of keeping in the open air +ought to have rendered him immune. Breckon saw his shock of hair, and +his large eyes, like Ellen's in their present gloom, looking out of it +on the pillow of the upper berth, when he went to their room to freshen +himself for the luncheon, and found Boyne averse even to serious +conversation: He went to lunch without him. None of the Kentons were at +table, and he had made up his mind to lunch alone when Ellen appeared, +and came wavering down the aisle to the table. He stood up to help her, +but seeing how securely she stayed herself from chair to chair he sank +down again. + +"Poppy is sick, too, now," she replied, as if to account for being +alone. + +"And you're none the worse for your little promenade?" The steward came +to Breckon's left shoulder with a dish, and after an effort to serve +himself from it he said, with a slight gasp, "The other side, please." +Ellen looked at him, but did not speak, and he made haste to say: "The +doctor goes so far as to admit that its half a gale. I don't know just +what measure the first officer would have for it. But I congratulate you +on a very typical little storm, Miss Kenton; perfectly safe, but very +decided. A great many people cross the Atlantic without anything half +as satisfactory. There is either too much or too little of this sort +of thing." He went on talking about the weather, and had got such a +distance from the point of beginning that he had cause to repent being +brought back to it when she asked: + +"Did the doctor think, you were hurt?" + +"Well, perhaps I ought to be more ashamed than I am," said Breckon. "But +I thought I had better make sure. And it's only a bruise--" + +"Won't you let ME help you!" she asked, as another dish intervened at +his right. "I hurt you." + +Breckon laughed at her solemn face and voice. "If you'll exonerate +yourself first," he answered: "I couldn't touch a morsel that conveyed +confession of the least culpability on your part. Do you consent? +Otherwise, I pass this dish. And really I want some!" + +"Well," she sadly consented, and he allowed her to serve his plate. + +"More yet, please," he said. "A lot!" + +"Is that enough?" + +"Well, for the first helping. And don't offer to cut it up for me! My +proud spirit draws the line at cutting up. Besides, a fork will do the +work with goulash." + +"Is that what it is?" she asked, but not apparently because she cared to +know. + +"Unless you prefer to naturalize it as stew. It seems to have come in +with the Hungarian bands. I suppose you have them in--" + +"Tuskingum? No, it is too small. But I heard them at a restaurant in New +York where my brother took us." + +"In the spirit of scientific investigation? It's strange how a common +principle seems to pervade both the Hungarian music and cooking--the +same wandering airs and flavors--wild, vague, lawless harmonies in both. +Did you notice it?" + +Ellen shook her head. The look of gloom which seemed to Breckon habitual +in it came back into her face, and he had a fantastic temptation to +see how far he could go with her sad consciousness before she should +be aware that he was experimenting upon it. He put this temptation from +him, and was in the enjoyment of a comfortable self-righteousness when +it returned in twofold power upon him with the coming of some cutlets +which capriciously varied the repast. + +"Ah, now, Miss Kenton, if you were to take pity on my helplessness!" + +"Why, certainly!" She possessed herself of his plate, and began to cut +up the meat for him. "Am I making the bites too small?" she asked, with +an upward glance at him. + +"Well, I don't know. Should you think so?" he returned, with a smile +that out-measured the morsels on the plate before her. + +She met his laughing eyes with eyes that questioned his honesty, at +first sadly, and then indignantly. She dropped the knife and fork upon +the plate and rose. + +"Oh, Miss Kenton!" he penitently entreated. + +But she was down the slanting aisle and out of the reeling door before +he could decide what to do. + + + + +XI. + +It seemed to Breckon that he had passed through one of those accessions +of temperament, one of those crises of natural man, to put it in the +terms of an older theology than he professed, that might justify him in +recurring to his original sense of his unfitness for his sacred calling, +as he would hardly ham called it: He had allowed his levity to get the +better of his sympathy, and his love of teasing to overpower that love +of helping which seemed to him his chief right and reason for being a +minister: To play a sort of poor practical joke upon that melancholy +girl (who was also so attractive) was not merely unbecoming to him as +a minister; it was cruel; it was vulgar; it was ungentlemanly. He could +not say less than ungentlemanly, for that seemed to give him the only +pang that did him any good. Her absolute sincerity had made her such +an easy prey that he ought to have shrunk from the shabby temptation in +abhorrence. + +It is the privilege of a woman, whether she wills it or not, to put a +man who is in the wrong concerning her much further in the wrong than he +could be from his offence. Breckon did not know whether he was suffering +more or less because he was suffering quite hopelessly, but he was sure +that he was suffering justly, and he was rather glad, if anything, that +he must go on suffering. His first impulse had been to go at once to +Judge Kenton and own his wrong, and take the consequences--in fact, +invite them. But Breckon forbore for two reasons: one, that he had +already appeared before the judge with the confession of having possibly +made an unclerical joke to his younger daughter; the other, that the +judge might not consider levity towards the elder so venial; and though +Breckon wished to be both punished and pardoned, in the final analysis, +perhaps, he most wished to be pardoned. Without pardon he could see no +way to repair the wrong he had done. Perhaps he wished even to retrieve +himself in the girl's eyes, or wished for the chance of trying. + +Ellen went away to her state-room and sat down on the sofa opposite +Lottie, and she lost herself in a muse in which she was found by the +voice of the sufferer in the berth. + +"If you haven't got anything better to do than come in here and stare +at me, I wish you would go somewhere else and stare. I can tell you it +isn't any joke." + +"I didn't know I was staring at you," said Ellen, humbly. + +"It would be enough to have you rising and sinking there, without your +staring at all: If you're going to stay, I wish you'd lie down. I don't +see why you're so well, anyway, after getting us all to come on this +wild-goose chase." + +"I know, I know," Ellen strickenly deprecated. "But I'm not going to +stay. I jest came for my things." + +"Is that giggling simpleton sick? I hope he is!" + +"Mr. Breckon?" Ellen asked, though she knew whom Lottie meant. "No, he +isn't sick. He was at lunch." + +"Was poppa?" + +"He was at breakfast." + +"And momma?" + +"She and Boyne are both in bed. I don't know whether they're very sick." + +"Well, then, I'll just tell you what, Ellen Kenton!" Lottie sat up in +accusal. "You were staring at something he said; and the first thing we +all know it will be another case of Bittridge!" Ellen winced, but Lottie +had no pity. "You don't know it, because you don't know anything, and +I'm not blaming you; but if you let that simpleton--I don't care if he +is a minister!--go 'round with you when your family are all sick abed, +you'll be having the whole ship to look after you." + +"Be still, Lottie!" cried Ellen. "You are awful," and, with a flaming +face, she escaped from the state-room. + +She did not know where else to go, and she beat along the sides of the +corridor as far as the dining-saloon. She had a dim notion of trying to +go up into the music-room above, but a glance at the reeling steep of +the stairs forbade. With her wraps on her arm and her sea-cap in her +hand, she stood clinging to the rail-post. + +Breckon came out of the saloon. "Oh, Miss Kenton," he humbly entreated, +"don't try to go on deck! It's rougher than ever." + +"I was going to the music-room," she faltered. + +"Let me help you, then," he said again. They mounted the gangway-steps, +but this time with his hand under her elbow, and his arm alert as before +in a suspended embrace against her falling. + +She had lost the initiative of her earlier adventure; she could only +submit herself to his guidance. But he almost outdid her in meekness, +when he got her safely placed in a corner whence she could not be easily +flung upon the floor. "You must have found it very stuffy below; but, +indeed, you'd better not try going out." + +"Do you think it isn't safe here?" she asked. + +"Oh yes. As long as you keep quiet. May I get you something to read? +They seem to have a pretty good little library." + +They both glanced at the case of books; from which the steward-librarian +was setting them the example of reading a volume. + +"No, I don't want to read. You musn't let me keep you from it." + +"Well, one can read any time. But one hasn't always the chance to say +that one is ashamed. Don't pretend you don't understand, Miss Kenton! +I didn't really mean anything. The temptation to let you exaggerate my +disability was too much for me. Say that you despise me! It would be +such a comfort." + +"Weren't you hurt?" + +"A little--a little more than a little, but not half so much as I +deserved--not to the point of not being able to cut up my meat. Am I +forgiven? I'll promise to cut up all your meat for you at dinner! Ah, +I'm making it worse!" + +"Oh no. Please don't speak of it" + +"Could you forbid my thinking of it, too?" He did not wait for her to +answer. "Then here goes! One, two, three, and the thought is banished +forever. Now what shall we speak of, or think of? We finished up the +weather pretty thoroughly this morning. And if you have not the weather +and the ship's run when you're at sea, why, you are at sea. Don't you +think it would be a good plan, when they stick those little flags into +the chart, to show how far we've come in the last twenty-four hours, if +they'd supply a topic for the day? They might have topics inscribed on +the flags-standard topics, that would serve for any voyage. We might +leave port with History--say, personal history; that would pave the way +to a general acquaintance among the passengers. Then Geography, and if +the world is really round, and what keeps the sea from spilling. Then +Politics, and the comparative advantages of monarchical and republican +governments, for international discussion. Then Pathology, and whether +you're usually sea-sick, and if there is any reliable remedy. Then--for +those who are still up--Poetry and Fiction; whether women really like +Kipling, and what kind of novels you prefer. There ought to be about +ten topics. These boats are sometimes very slow. Can't you suggest +something, Miss Kenton? There is no hurry! We've got four to talk over, +for we must bring up the arrears, you know. And now we'll begin with +personal history. Your sister doesn't approve of me, does she?" + +"My sister?" Ellen faltered, and, between the conscience to own the fact +and the kindness to deny it, she stopped altogether. + +"I needn't have asked. She told me so herself, in almost as many words. +She said I was slippery, and as close as a trap. Miss Kenton! I have the +greatest wish to know whether I affect you as both slippery and close!" + +"I don't always know what Lottie means." + +"She means what she says; and I feel that I am under condemnation till +I reform. I don't know how to stop being slippery, but I'm determined to +stop being close. Will you tell her that for me? Will you tell her +that you never met an opener, franker person?--of course, except +herself!--and that so far from being light I seemed to you particularly +heavy? Say that I did nothing but talk about myself, and that when you +wanted to talk about yourself you couldn't get in a word edgewise. Do +try, now, Miss Kenton, and see if you can! I don't want you to invent a +character for me, quite." + +"Why, there's nothing to say about me," she began in compliance with his +gayety, and then she fell helpless from it. + +"Well, then, about Tuskingum. I should like to hear about Tuskingum, so +much!" + +"I suppose we like it because we've always lived there. You haven't been +much in the West, have you?" + +"Not as much as I hope to be." He had found that Western people were +sometimes sensitive concerning their section and were prepared to +resent complacent ignorance of it. "I've always thought it must be very +interesting." + +"It isn't," said the girl. "At least, not like the East. I used to be +provoked when the lecturers said anything like that; but when you've +been to New York you see what they mean." + +"The lecturers?" he queried. + +"They always stayed at our house when they lectured in Tuskingum." + +"Ah! Oh yes," said Breckon, grasping a situation of which he had heard +something, chiefly satirical. "Of course. And is your father--is Judge +Kenton literary? Excuse me!" + +"Only in his history. He's writing the history of his regiment; or he +gets the soldiers to write down all they can remember of the war, and +then he puts their stories together." + +"How delightful!" said Breckon. "And I suppose it's a great pleasure to +him." + +"I don't believe it is," said Ellen. "Poppa doesn't believe in war any +more." + +"Indeed!" said Breckon. "That is very interesting." + +"Sometimes when I'm helping him with it--" + +"Ah, I knew you must help him!" + +"And he comes to a place where there has been a dreadful slaughter, it +seems as if he felt worse about it than I did. He isn't sure that it +wasn't all wrong. He thinks all war is wrong now." + +"Is he--has he become a follower of Tolstoy?" + +"He's read him. He says he's the only man that ever gave a true account +of battles; but he had thought it all out for himself before he read +Tolstoy about fighting. Do you think it is right to revenge an injury?" + +"Why, surely not!" said Breckon, rather startled. + +"That is what we say," the girl pursued. "But if some one had injured +you--abused your confidence, and--insulted you, what would you do?" + +"I'm not sure that I understand," Breckon began. The inquiry was +superficially impersonal, but he reflected that women are never +impersonal, or the sons of women, for that matter, and he suspected an +intimate ground. His suspicions were confirmed when Miss Kenton said: +"It seems easy enough to forgive anything that's done to yourself; but +if it's done to some one else, too, have you the right--isn't it wrong +to let it go?" + +"You think the question of justice might come in then? Perhaps it ought. +But what is justice? And where does your duty begin to be divided?" He +saw her following him with alarming intensity, and he shrank from the +responsibility before him. What application might not she make of his +words in the case, whatever it was, which he chose not to imagine? "To +tell you the truth, Miss Kenton, I'm not very clear on that point--I'm +not sure that I'm disinterested." + +"Disinterested?" + +"Yes; you know that I abused your confidence at luncheon; and until I +know whether the wrong involved any one else--" He looked at her with +hovering laughter in his eyes which took wing at the reproach in hers. +"But if we are to be serious--" + +"Oh no," she said, "it isn't a serious matter." But in the helplessness +of her sincerity she could not carry it off lightly, or hide from him +that she was disappointed. + +He tried to make talk about other things. She responded vaguely, and +when she had given herself time she said she believed she would go +to Lottie; she was quite sure she could get down the stairs alone. He +pursued her anxiously, politely, and at the head of her corridor took +leave of her with a distinct sense of having merited his dismissal. + +"I see what you mean, Lottie," she said, "about Mr. Breckon." + +Lottie did not turn her head on the pillow. "Has it taken you the whole +day to find it out?" + + + + +XII. + +The father and the mother had witnessed with tempered satisfaction +the interest which seemed to be growing up between Ellen and the young +minister. By this time they had learned not to expect too much of any +turn she might take; she reverted to a mood as suddenly as she left it. +They could not quite make out Breckon himself; he was at least as great +a puzzle to them as their own child was. + +"It seems," said Mrs. Kenton, in their first review of the affair, after +Boyne had done a brother's duty in trying to bring Ellen under their +mother's censure, "that he was the gentleman who discussed the theatre +with Boyne at the vaudeville last winter. Boyne just casually mentioned +it. I was so provoked!" + +"I don't see what bearing the fact has," the judge remarked. + +"Why, Boyne liked him very much that night, but now he seems to feel +very much as Lottie does about him. He thinks he laughs too much." + +"I don't know that there's much harm in that," said the judge. "And I +shouldn't value Boyne's opinion of character very highly." + +"I value any one's intuitions--especially children's." + +"Boyne's in that middle state where he isn't quite a child. And so is +Lottie, for that matter." + +"That is true," their mother assented. "And we ought to be glad of +anything that takes Ellen's mind off herself. If I could only believe +she was forgetting that wretch!" + +"Does she ever speak of him?" + +"She never hints of him, even. But her mind may be full of him all the +time." + +The judge laughed impatiently. "It strikes me that this young Mr. +Breckon hasn't much advantage of Ellen in what Lottie calls closeness!" + +"Ellen has always been very reserved. It would have been better for her +if she hadn't. Oh, I scarcely dare to hope anything! Rufus, I feel that +in everything of this kind we are very ignorant and inexperienced." + +"Inexperienced!" Renton retorted. "I don't want any more experience of +the kind Ellen has given us." + +"I don't mean that. I mean--this Mr. Breckon. I can't tell what attracts +him in the child. She must appear very crude and uncultivated to him. +You needn't resent it so! I know she's read a great deal, and you've +made her think herself intellectual--but the very simple-heartedness of +the way she would show out her reading would make such a young man see +that she wasn't like the girls he was used to. They would hide their +intellectuality, if they had any. It's no use your trying to fight it +Mr. Kenton. We are country people, and he knows it." + +"Tuskingum isn't country!" the judge declared. + +"It isn't city. And we don't know anything about the world, any of us. +Oh, I suppose we can read and write! But we don't know the a, b, c of +the things he, knows. He, belongs to a kind of society--of people--in +New York that I had glimpses of in the winter, but that I never imagined +before. They made me feel very belated and benighted--as if I hadn't, +read or thought anything. They didn't mean to; but I couldn't help it, +and they couldn't." + +"You--you've been frightened out of your propriety by what you've seen +in New York," said her husband. + +"I've been frightened, certainly. And I wish you had been, too. I wish +you wouldn't be so conceited about Ellen. It scares me to see you so. +Poor, sick thing, her looks are all gone! You must see that. And she +doesn't dress like the girls he's used to. I know we've got her things +in New York; but she doesn't wear them like a New-Yorker. I hope she +isn't going in for MORE unhappiness!" + +At the thought of this the judge's crest fell. "Do you believe she's +getting interested in him?" he asked, humbly. + +"No, no; I don't say that. But promise me you won't encourage her in it. +And don't, for pity's sake, brag about her to him." + +"No, I won't," said the judge, and he tacitly repented having done so. + +The weather had changed, and when he went up from this interview +with his wife in their stateroom he found a good many people strung +convalescently along the promenade on their steamer-chairs. These, so +far as they were women, were of such sick plainness that when he came +to Ellen his heart throbbed with a glad resentment of her mother's +aspersion of her health and beauty. She looked not only very well, and +very pretty, but in a gay red cap and a trig jacket she looked, to her +father's uncritical eyes, very stylish. The glow left his heart at eight +of the empty seat beside her. + +"Where is Lottie?" he asked, though it was not Lottie's whereabouts that +interested him. + +"Oh, she's walking with Mr. Breckon somewhere," said Ellen. + +"Then she's made up her mind to tolerate him, has she?" the father +asked, more lightly than he felt. + +Ellen smiled. "That wasn't anything very serious, I guess. At any rate, +she's walking with him." + +"What book is that?" he asked, of the volume she was tilting back and +forth under her hand. + +She showed it. "One of his. He brought it up to amuse me, he said." + +"While he was amusing himself with Lottie," thought the judge, in his +jealousy for her. "It is going the same old way. Well!" What he said +aloud was, "And is it amusing you?" + +"I haven't looked at it yet," said the girl. "It's amusing enough to +watch the sea. Oh, poppa! I never thought I should care so much for it." + +"And you're glad we came?" + +"I don't want to think about that. I just want to know that I'm here." +She pressed his arm gently, significantly, where he sat provisionally +in the chair beside her, and he was afraid to speak lest he should scare +away the hope her words gave him. + +He merely said, "Well, well!" and waited for her to speak further. But +her impulse had exhausted itself, as if her spirit were like one of +those weak forms of life which spend their strength in a quick run or +flight, and then rest to gather force for another. "Where's Boyne?" he +asked, after waiting for her to speak. + +"He was here a minute ago. He's been talking with some of the deck +passengers that are going home because they couldn't get on in America. +Doesn't that seem pitiful, poppa? I always thought we had work enough +for the whole world." + +"Perhaps these fellows didn't try very hard to find it," said the judge. + +"Perhaps," she assented. + +"I shouldn't want you to get to thinking that it's all like New York. +Remember how comfortable everybody is in Tuskingum." + +"Yes," she said, sadly. "How far off Tuskingum seems!" + +"Well, don't forget about it; and remember that wherever life is +simplest and purest and kindest, that is the highest civilization." + +"How much like old times it seems to hear you talk that way, poppa! I +should think I was in the library at home. And I made you leave it!" she +sighed. + +"Your mother was glad of any excuse. And it will do us all good, if we +take it in the right way," said the judge, with a didactic severity that +did not hide his pang from her. + +"Poor poppa!" she said. + +He went away, saying that he was going to look Lottie up. His simple +design was to send Lottie to her mother, so that Breckon might come back +to Ellen; but he did not own this to himself. + +Lottie returned from another direction with Boyne, and Ellen said, +"Poppa's gone to look for you." + +"Has he?" asked Lottie, dropping decisively into her chair. "Well, +there's one thing; I won't call him poppa any more." + +"What will you call him?" Boyne demanded, demurely. + +"I'll call him father, it you want to know; and I'm going to call momma, +mother. I'm not going to have those English laughing at us, and I won't +say papa and mamma. Everybody that knows anything says father and mother +now." + +Boyne kept looking from one sister to another during Lottie's +declaration, and, with his eyes on Ellen, he said, "It's true, Ellen. +All the Plumptons did." He was very serious. + +Ellen smiled. "I'm too old to change. I'd rather seem queer in Europe +than when I get back to Tuskingum." + +"You wouldn't be queer there a great while," said Lottie. "They'll all +be doing it in a week after I get home." + +Upon the encouragement given him by Ellen, Boyne seized the chance +of being of the opposition. "Yes," he taunted Lottie, "and you think +they'll say woman and man, for lady and gentleman, I suppose." + +"They will as soon as they know it's the thing." + +"Well, I know I won't," said Boyne. "I won't call momma a woman." + +"It doesn't matter what you do, Boyne dear," his sister serenely assured +him. + +While he stood searching his mind for a suitable retort, a young man, +not apparently many years his senior, came round the corner of the +music-room, and put himself conspicuously in view at a distance from the +Kentons. + +"There he is, now," said Boyne. "He wants to be introduced to Lottie." +He referred the question to Ellen, but Lottie answered for her. + +"Then why don't you introduce him?" + +"Well, I would if he was an American. But you can't tell about these +English." He resumed the dignity he had lost in making the explanation +to Lottie, and ignored her in turning again to Ellen. "What do you +think, Ellen?" + +"Oh, don't know about such things, Boyne," she said, shrinking from the +responsibility. + +"Well; upon my word!" cried Lottie. "If Ellen can talk by the hour +with that precious Mr. Breckon, and stay up here along with him, when +everybody else is down below sick, I don't think she can have a great +deal to say about a half-grown boy like that being introduced to me." + +"He's as old as you are," said Boyne, hotly. + +"Oh! I saw him associating with you, and I thought he was a boy, too. +Pardon me!" Lottie turned from giving Boyne his coup-de-grace, to plant +a little stab in Ellen's breast. "To be sure, now Mr. Breckon has found +those friends of his, I suppose he won't want to flirt with Ellen any +more." + +"Ah, ha, ha!" Boyne broke in. "Lottie is mad because he stopped to speak +to some ladies he knew. Women, I suppose she'd call them." + +"Well, I shouldn't call him a gentleman, anyway," said Lottie. + +The pretty, smooth-faced, fresh-faced young fellow whom their varying +debate had kept in abeyance, looked round at them over his shoulder as +he leaned on the rail, and seemed to discover Boyne for the first time. +He came promptly towards the Kentons. + +"Now," said Lottie, rapidly, "you'll just HAVE to." + +The young fellow touched his cap to the whole group, but he ventured to +address only Boyne. + +"Every one seems to be about this morning," he said, with the cheery +English-rising infection. + +"Yes," answered Boyne, with such snubbing coldness that Ellen's heart +was touched. + +"It's so pleasant," she said, "after that dark weather." + +"Isn't it?" cried the young fellow, gratefully. "One doesn't often get +such sunshine as this at sea, you know." + +"My sister, Miss Kenton, Mr. Pogis," Boyne solemnly intervened. "And +Miss Lottie Kenton." + +The pretty boy bowed to each in turn, but he made no pretence of +being there to talk with Ellen. "Have you been ill, too?" he actively +addressed himself to Lottie. + +"No, just mad," she said. "I wasn't very sick, and that made it all the +worse being down in a poky state-room when I wanted to walk." + +"And I suppose you've been making up for lost time this morning?" + +"Not half," said Lottie. + +"Oh, do finish the half with me!" + +Lottie instantly rose, and flung her sister the wrap she had been +holding ready to shed from the moment the young man had come up. "Keep +that for me, Nell. Are you good at catching?" she asked him. + +"Catching?" + +"Yes! People," she explained, and at a sudden twist of the ship she made +a clutch at his shoulder. + +"Oh! I think I can catch you." + +As they moved off together, Boyne said, "Well, upon my word!" but Ellen +did not say anything in comment on Lottie. After a while she asked, "Who +were the ladies that Mr. Breckon met?" + +"I didn't hear their names. They were somebody he hadn't seen before +since the ship started. They looked like a young lady and her mother. +It made Lottie mad when he stopped to speak with them, and she wouldn't +wait till he could get through. Ran right away, and made me come, too." + + + + +XIII. + +Breckon had not seen the former interest between himself and Ellen +lapse to commonplace acquaintance without due sense of loss. He suffered +justly, but he did not suffer passively, or without several attempts +to regain the higher ground. In spite of these he was aware of being +distinctly kept to the level which he accused himself of having chosen, +by a gentle acquiescence in his choice more fatal than snubbing. The +advances that he made across the table, while he still met Miss Kenton +alone there, did not carry beyond the rack supporting her plate. She +talked on whatever subject he started with that angelic sincerity which +now seemed so far from him, but she started none herself; she did not +appeal to him for his opinion upon any question more psychological than +the barometer; and, + + "In a tumultuous privacy of storm," + +he found himself as much estranged from her as if a fair-weather crowd +had surrounded them. He did not believe that she resented the levity he +had shown; but he had reason to fear that she had finally accepted it as +his normal mood, and in her efforts to meet him in it, as if he had no +other, he read a tolerance that was worse than contempt. When he tried +to make her think differently, if that was what she thought of him, +he fancied her rising to the notion he wished to give her, and then +shrinking from it, as if it must bring her the disappointment of some +trivial joke. + +It was what he had taught her to expect of him, and he had himself to +blame. Now that he had thrown that precious chance away, he might well +have overvalued it. She had certain provincialisms which he could not +ignore. She did not know the right use of will and shall, and would and +should, and she pronounced the letter 'r' with a hard mid-Western twist. +Her voice was weak and thin, and she could not govern it from being at +times a gasp and at times a drawl. She did not dress with the authority +of women who know more of their clothes than the people they buy them +of; she did not carry herself like a pretty girl; she had not the +definite stamp of young-ladyism. Yet she was undoubtedly a lady in every +instinct; she wore with pensive grace the clothes which she had not +subjected to her personal taste; and if she did not carry herself like a +pretty girl, she had a beauty which touched and entreated. + +More and more Breckon found himself studying her beauty--her soft, brown +brows, her gentle, dark eyes, a little sunken, and with the lids pinched +by suffering; the cheeks somewhat thin, but not colorless; the long +chin, the clear forehead, and the massed brown hair, that seemed too +heavy for the drooping neck. It was not the modern athletic type; it +was rather of the earlier period, when beauty was associated with the +fragility despised by a tanned and golfing generation. Ellen Kenton's +wrists were thin, and her hands long and narrow. As he looked at her +across the racks during those two days of storm, he had sometimes the +wish to take her long, narrow hands in his, and beg her to believe that +he was worthier her serious friendship than he had shown himself. What +he was sure of at all times now was that he wished to know the secret +of that patient pathos of hers. She was not merely, or primarily, an +invalid. Her family had treated her as an invalid, but, except Lottie, +whose rigor might have been meant sanatively, they treated her more with +the tenderness people use with a wounded spirit; and Breckon fancied +moments of something like humility in her, when she seemed to cower from +his notice. These were not so imaginable after her family took to their +berths and left her alone with him, but the touching mystery remained, a +sort of bewilderment, as he guessed it, a surprise such as a child +might show at some incomprehensible harm. It was this grief which he had +refused not merely to know--he still doubted his right to know it--but +to share; he had denied not only his curiosity but his sympathy, and +had exiled himself to a region where, when her family came back with +the fair weather, he felt himself farther from her than before their +acquaintance began. + +He had made an overture to its renewal in the book he lent her, and then +Mrs. Rasmith and her daughter had appeared on deck, and borne down +upon him when he was walking with Lottie Kenton and trying to begin his +self-retrieval through her. She had left him; but they had not, and in +the bonds of a prophet and his followers he found himself bound with +them for much more conversation than he had often held with them ashore. +The parochial duties of an ethical teacher were not strenuous, and +Breckon had not been made to feel them so definitely before. Mrs. +Rasmith held that they now included promising to sit at her table for +the rest of the voyage; but her daughter succeeded in releasing him from +the obligation; and it was she who smilingly detached the clinging +hold of the elder lady. "We mustn't keep Mr. Breckon from his friends, +mother," she said, brightly, and then he said he should like the +pleasure of introducing them, and both of the ladies declared that they +would be delighted. + +He bowed himself off, and half the ship's-length away he was aware, from +meeting Lottie with her little Englishman, that it was she and not Ellen +whom he was seeking. As the couple paused in whirring past Breckon long +enough to let Lottie make her hat fast against the wind, he heard the +Englishman shout: + +"I say, that sister of yours is a fine girl, isn't she?" + +"She's a pretty good--looker," Lottie answered back. "What's the matter +with HER sister?" + +"Oh, I say!" her companion returned, in a transport with her slangy +pertness, which Breckon could not altogether refuse to share. + +He thought that he ought to condemn it, and he did condemn Mrs. Kenton +for allowing it in one of her daughters, when he came up to her sitting +beside another whom he felt inexpressibly incapable of it. Mrs. Kenton +could have answered his censure, if she had known it, that daughters, +like sons, were not what their mothers but what their environments made +them, and that the same environment sometimes made them different, as he +saw. She could have told him that Lottie, with her slangy pertness, had +the truest and best of the men she knew at her feet, and that Ellen, +with her meekness, had been the prey of the commonest and cheapest +spirit in her world, and so left him to make an inference as creditable +to his sex as he could. But this bold defence was as far from the poor +lady as any spoken reproach was from him. Her daughter had to check in +her a mechanical offer to rise, as if to give Breckon her place, the +theory and practice of Tuskingum being that their elders ought to leave +young people alone together. + +"Don't go, momma," Ellen whispered. "I don't want you to go." + +Breckon, when he arrived before them, remained talking on foot, and, +unlike Lottie's company, he talked to the mother. This had happened +before from him, but she had not got used to it, and now she deprecated +in everything but words his polite questions about her sufferings from +the rough weather, and his rejoicing that the worst was probably over. +She ventured the hope that it was so, for she said that Mr. Kenton had +about decided to keep on to Holland, and it seemed to her that they had +had enough of storms. He said he was glad that they were going right on; +and then she modestly recurred to the earlier opinion he had given +her husband that it would be better to spend the rest of the summer in +Holland than to go to Italy, as if she wished to conform herself in the +wisdom of Mr. Kenton's decision. He repeated his conviction, and he said +that if he were in their place he should go to The Hague as soon as they +had seen Rotterdam, and make it their headquarters for the exploration +of the whole country. + +"You can't realize how little it is; you can get anywhere in an hour; +the difficulty is to keep inside of Holland when you leave any given +point. I envy you going there." + +Mrs. Kenton inferred that he was going to stop in France, but if it were +part of his closeness not to tell, it was part of her pride not to ask. +She relented when he asked if he might get a map of his and prove the +littleness of Holland from it, and in his absence she could not well +avoid saying to Ellen, "He seems very pleasant." + +"Yes; why not?" the girl asked. + +"I don't know. Lottie is so against him." + +"He was very kind when you were all sick." + +"Well, you ought to know better than Lottie; you've seen him so much +more." Ellen was silent, and her mother advanced cautiously, "I suppose +he is very cultivated." + +"How can I tell? I'm not." + +"Why, Ellen, I think you are. Very few girls have read so much." + +"Yes, but he wouldn't care if I were cultivated, Ha is like all the +rest. He would like to joke and laugh. Well, I think that is nice, too, +and I wish I could do it. But I never could, and now I can't try. I +suppose he wonders what makes me such a dead weight on you all." + +"You know you're not that, Ellen! You musn't let yourself be morbid. It +hurts me to have you say such things." + +"Well, I should like to tell him why, and see what he would say." + +"Ellen!" + +"Why not? If he is a minister he must have thought about all kinds +of things. Do you suppose he ever knew of a girl before who had been +through what I have? Yes, I would like to know what he would really +say." + +"I know what he ought to say! If he knew, he would say that no girl had +ever behaved more angelically." + +"Do you think he would? Perhaps he would say that if I hadn't been so +proud and silly--Here he comes! Shall we ask him?" + +Breckon approached with his map, and her mother gasped, thinking how +terrible such a thing would be if it could be; Ellen smiled brightly up +at him. "Will you take my chair? And then you can show momma your map. I +am going down," and while he was still protesting she was gone. + +"Miss Kenton seems so much better than she did the first day," he said, +as he spread the map out on his knees, and gave Mrs. Kenton one end to +hold. + +"Yes," the mother assented, as she bent over to look at it. + +She followed his explanation with a surface sense, while her nether mind +was full of the worry of the question which Ellen had planted in it. +What would such a man think of what she had been through? Or, rather, +how would he say to her the only things that in Mrs. Kenton's belief he +could say? How could the poor child ever be made to see it in the +light of some mind not colored with her family's affection for her? An +immense, an impossible longing possessed itself of the mother's heart, +which became the more insistent the more frantic it appeared. She +uttered "Yes" and "No" and "Indeed" to what he was saying, but all the +time she was rehearsing Ellen's story in her inner sense. In the end she +remembered so little what had actually passed that her dramatic reverie +seemed the reality, and when she left him she got herself down to +her state-room, giddy with the shame and fear of her imaginary +self-betrayal. She wished to test the enormity, and yet not find it so +monstrous, by submitting the case to her husband, and she could scarcely +keep back her impatience at seeing Ellen instead of her father. + +"Momma, what have you been saying to Mr. Breckon about me?" + +"Nothing," said Mrs. Kenton, aghast at first, and then astonished to +realize that she was speaking the simple truth. "He said how much better +you were looking; but I don't believe I spoke a single word. We were +looking at the map." + +"Very well," Ellen resumed. "I have been thinking it all over, and now I +have made up my mind." + +She paused, and her mother asked, tremulously, "About what, Ellen?" + +"You know, momma. I see all now. You needn't be afraid that I care +anything about him now," and her mother knew that she meant Bittridge, +"or that I ever shall. That's gone forever. But it's gone," she added, +and her mother quaked inwardly to hear her reason, "because the wrong +and the shame was all for me--for us. That's why I can forgive it, +and forget. If we had done anything, the least thing in the world, to +revenge ourselves, or to hurt him, then--Don't you see, momma?" + +"I think I see, Ellen." + +"Then I should have to keep thinking about it, and what we had made him +suffer, and whether we hadn't given him some claim. I don't wish ever +to think of him again. You and poppa were so patient and forbearing, all +through; and I thank goodness now for everything you put up with; only I +wish I could have borne everything myself." + +"You had enough to bear," Mrs. Kenton said, in tender evasion. + +"I'm glad that I had to bear so much, for bearing it is what makes me +free now." She went up to her mother and kissed her, and gazed into her +face with joyful, tearful looks that made her heart sink. + + + + +XIV. + +Mrs. Kenton did not rest till she had made sure from Lottie and Boyne +that neither of them had dropped any hint to Ellen of what happened to +Bittridge after his return to Tuskingum. She did not explain to them why +she was so very anxious to know, but only charged them the more solemnly +not to let the secret, which they had all been keeping from Ellen, +escape them. + +They promised, but Lottie said, "She's got to know it some time, and I +should think the sooner the better." + +"I will be judge of that, Lottie," said her mother, and Boyne seized his +chance of inculpating her with his friend, Mr. Pogis. He said she +was carrying on awfully with him already; and an Englishman could not +understand, and Boyne hinted that he would presume upon her American +freedom. + +"Well, if he does, I'll get you to cowhide him, Boyne," she retorted, +and left him fuming helplessly, while she went to give the young +Englishman an opportunity of resuming the flirtation which her mother +had interrupted. + +With her husband Mrs. Kenton found it practicable to be more explicit. +"I haven't had such a load lifted off my heart since I don't know when. +It shows me what I've thought all along: that Ellen hasn't really cared +anything for that miserable thing since he first began going with Mrs. +Uphill a year ago. When he wrote that letter to her in New York she +wanted to be sure she didn't, and when he offered himself and misbehaved +so to both of you, she was afraid that she and you were somehow to +blame. Now she's worked it out that no one else was wronged, and she is +satisfied. It's made her feel free, as she says. But, oh, dear me!" Mrs. +Kenton broke off, "I talk as if there was nothing to bind her; and yet +there is what poor Richard did! What would she say if she knew that? +I have been cautioning Lottie and Boyne, but I know it will come out +somehow. Do you think it's wise to keep it from her? Hadn't we better +tell her? Or shall we wait and see--" + +Kenton would not allow to her or to himself that his hopes ran with +hers; love is not business with a man as it is with a woman; he feels it +indecorous and indelicate to count upon it openly, where she thinks it +simply a chance of life, to be considered like another. All that Kenton +would say was, "I see no reason for telling her just yet. She will have +to know in due time. But let her enjoy her freedom now." + +"Yes," Mrs. Kenton doubtfully assented. + +The judge was thoughtfully silent. Then he said: "Few girls could have +worked out her problem as Ellen has. Think how differently Lottie would +have done it!" + +"Lottie has her good points, too," said Mrs. Kenton. "And, of course, I +don't blame Richard. There are all kinds of girls, and Lottie means no +more harm than Ellen does. She's the kind that can't help attracting; +but I always knew that Ellen was attractive, too, if she would only find +it out. And I knew that as soon as anything worth while took up her mind +she would never give that wretch another thought." + +Kenton followed her devious ratiocinations to a conclusion which he +could not grasp. "What do you mean, Sarah?" + +"If I only," she explained, in terms that did not explain, "felt as sure +of him as I do about him!" + +Her husband looked densely at her. "Bittridge?" + +"No. Mr. Breckon. He is very nice, Rufus. Yes, he is! He's been showing +me the map of Holland, and we've had a long talk. He isn't the way +we thought--or I did. He is not at all clerical, or worldly. And he +appreciates Ellen. I don't suppose he cares so much for her being +cultivated; I suppose she doesn't seem so to him. But he sees how wise +she is--how good. And he couldn't do that without being good himself! +Rufus! If we could only hope such a thing. But, of course, there are +thousands after him!" + +"There are not thousands of Ellens after him," said the judge, before he +could take time to protest. "And I don't want him to suppose that she is +after him at all. If he will only interest her and help her to keep her +mind off herself, it's all I will ask of him. I am not anxious to part +with her, now that she's all ours again." + +"Of course," Mrs. Kenton soothingly assented. "And I don't say that she +dreams of him in any such way. She can't help admiring his mind. But +what I mean is that when you see how he appreciates her, you can't help +wishing he could know just how wise, and just how good she is. It did +seem to me as if I would give almost anything to have him know what she +had been through with that--rapscallion!" + +"Sarah!" + +"Oh, you may Sarah me! But I can tell you what, Mr. Kenton: I believe +that you could tell him every word of it, and only make him appreciate +her the more. Till you know that about Ellen, you don't know what a +character she is. I just ached to tell him!" + +"I don't understand you, my dear," said Kenton. "But if you mean to tell +him--" + +"Why, who could imagine doing such a thing? Don't you see that it is +impossible? Such a thing would never have come into my head if it hadn't +been for some morbid talk of Ellen's." + +"Of Ellen's?" + +"Oh, about wanting to disgust him by telling him why she was such a +burden to us." + +"She isn't a burden!" + +"I am saying what she said. And it made me think that if such a person +could only know the high-minded way she had found to get out of her +trouble! I would like somebody who is capable of valuing her to value +her in all her preciousness. Wouldn't you be glad if such a man as he is +could know how and why she feels free at last?" + +"I don't think it's necessary," said Kenton, haughtily, "There's only +one thing that could give him the right to know it, and we'll wait for +that first. I thought you said that he was frivolous." + +"Boyne said that, and Lottie. I took it for granted, till I talked with +him to-day. He is light-hearted and gay; he likes to laugh and joke; but +he can be very serious when he wants to." + +"According to all precedent," said the judge, glumly, "such a man ought +to be hanging round Lottie. Everybody was that amounted to anything in +Tuskingum." + +"Oh, in Tuskingum! And who were the men there that amounted to anything? +A lot of young lawyers, and two students of medicine, and some railroad +clerks. There wasn't one that would compare with Mr. Breckon for a +moment." + +"All the more reason why he can't really care for Ellen. Now see here, +Sarah! You know I don't interfere with you and the children, but I'm +afraid you're in a craze about this young fellow. He's got these friends +of his who have just turned up, and we'll wait and see what he does with +them. I guess he appreciates the young lady as much as he does Ellen." + +Mrs. Kenton's heart went down. "She doesn't compare with Ellen!" she +piteously declared. + +"That's what we think. He may think differently." + +Mrs. Kenton was silenced, but all the more she was determined to make +sure that Mr. Breckon was not interested in Miss Rasmith in any measure +or manner detrimental to Ellen. As for Miss Rasmith herself, Mrs. Kenton +would have had greater reason to be anxious about her behavior with +Boyne than Mr. Breckon. From the moment that the minister had made his +two groups of friends acquainted, the young lady had fixed upon Boyne +as that member of the Kenton group who could best repay a more intimate +friendship. She was polite to them all, but to Boyne she was flattering, +and he was too little used to deference from ladies ten years his senior +not to be very sensible of her worth in offering it. To be unremittingly +treated as a grown-up person was an experience so dazzling that his +vision was blinded to any possibilities in the behavior that formed it; +and before the day ended Boyne had possessed Miss Rasmith of all that it +was important for any fellow-being to know of his character and history. +He opened his heart to eyes that had looked into others before his, +less for the sake of exploiting than of informing himself. In the rare +intelligence of Miss Rasmith he had found that serious patience with +his problems which no one else, not Ellen herself, had shown, and +after trying her sincerity the greater part of the day he put it to +the supreme test, one evening, with a book which he had been reading. +Boyne's literature was largely entomological and zoological, but this +was a work of fiction treating of the fortunes of a young American +adventurer, who had turned his military education to account in the +service of a German princess. Her Highness's dominions were not in any +map of Europe, and perhaps it was her condition of political incognito +that rendered her the more fittingly the prey of a passion for the +American head of her armies. Boyne's belief was that this character +veiled a real identity, and he wished to submit to Miss Rasmith the +question whether in the exclusive circles of New York society any young +millionaire was known to have taken service abroad after leaving west +Point. He put it in the form of a scoffing incredulity which it was a +comfort to have her take as if almost hurt by his doubt. She said that +such a thing might very well be, and with rich American girls marrying +all sorts of titles abroad, it was not impossible for some brilliant +young fellow to make his way to the steps of a throne. Boyne declared +that she was laughing at him, and she protested that it was the last +thing she should think of doing; she was too much afraid of him. Then he +began to argue against the case supposed in the romance; he proved from +the book itself that the thing could not happen; such a princess would +not be allowed to marry the American, no matter how rich he was. She +owned that she had not heard of just such an instance, and he might +think her very romantic; and perhaps she was; but if the princess was an +absolute princess, such as she was shown in that story, she held that +no power on earth could keep her from marrying the young American. For +herself she did not see, though, how the princess could be in love +with that type of American. If she had been in the princess's place she +should have fancied something quite different. She made Boyne agree with +her that Eastern Americans were all, more or less, Europeanized, and it +stood to reason, she held, that a European princess would want something +as un-European as possible if she was falling in love to please herself. +They had some contention upon the point that the princess would want +a Western American; and then Miss Rasmith, with a delicate audacity, +painted an heroic portrait of Boyne himself which he could not recognize +openly enough to disown; but he perceived resemblances in it which went +to his head when she demurely rose, with a soft "Good-night, Mr. Kenton. +I suppose I mustn't call you Boyne?" + +"Oh yes, do!" he entreated. "I'm-I'm not grown up yet, you know." + +"Then it will be safe," she sighed. "But I should never have thought +of that. I had got so absorbed in our argument. You are so logical, Mr. +Kenton--Boyne, I mean--thank you. You must get it from your father. How +lovely your sister is!" + +"Ellen?" + +"Well, no. I meant the other one. But Miss Kenton is beautiful, too. You +must be so happy together, all of you." She added, with a rueful smile, +"There's only one of me! Good-night." + +Boyne did not know whether he ought not in humanity, if not gallantry, +to say he would be a brother to her, but while he stood considering, she +put out a hand to him so covered with rings that he was afraid she had +hurt herself in pressing his so hard, and had left him before he could +decide. + +Lottie, walking the deck, had not thought of bidding Mr. Pogis +good-night. She had asked him half a dozen times how late it was, and +when he answered, had said as often that she knew better, and she was +going below in another minute. But she stayed, and the flow of her +conversation supplied him with occasion for the remarks of which he +seldom varied the formula. When she said something too audacious for +silent emotion, he called out, "Oh, I say!" If she advanced an opinion +too obviously acceptable, or asked a question upon some point where +it seemed to him there could not be two minds, he was ready with the +ironical note, "Well, rather!" At times she pressed her studies of his +character and her observations on his manner and appearance so far that +he was forced to protest, "You are so personal!" But these moments +were rare; for the most part, "Oh I say!" and "Well, rather!" perfectly +covered the ground. He did not generally mind her parody of his poverty +of phrase, but once, after she had repeated "Well rather!" and "Oh, +I say!" steadily at everything he said for the whole round of the +promenade they were making, he intimated that there were occasions when, +in his belief, a woman's abuse of the freedom generously allowed her sex +passed the point of words. + +"And when it passes the point of words" she taunted him, "what do you +do?" + +"You will see," he said, "if it ever does," and Lottie felt justified by +her inference that he was threatening to kiss her, in answering: + +"And if I ever SEE, I will box your ears." + +"Oh, I say!" he retorted. "I should like to have you try." + +He had ideas of the rightful mastery of a man in all things, which +she promptly pronounced brutal, and when he declared that his father's +conduct towards his wife and children was based upon these ideas, she +affirmed the superiority of her own father's principles and behavior. +Mr. Pogis was too declared an admirer of Judge Kenton to question +his motives or method in anything, and he could only generalize, "The +Americans spoil their women." + +"Well, their women are worth it," said Lottie, and after allowing the +paradox time to penetrate his intelligence, he cried out, in a glad +transport: + +"Oh, I SAY!" + +At the moment Boyne's intellectual seance with Miss Rasmith was +coming to an end. Lottie had tacitly invited Mr. Pogis to prolong the +comparison of English and American family life by stopping in front of +a couple of steamer-chairs, and confessing that she was tired to death. +They sat down, and he told her about his mother, whom, although his +father's subordinate, he seemed to be rather fonder of. He had some +elder brothers, most of them in the colonies, and he had himself been +out to America looking at something his father had found for him in +Buffalo. + +"You ought to come to Tuskingum," said Lottie. + +"Is that a large place?" Mr. Pogis asked. "As large as Buffalo?" + +"Well, no," Lottie admitted. "But it's a growing place. And we have the +best kind of times." + +"What kind?" The young man easily consented to turn the commercial into +a social inquiry. + +"Oh, picnics, and river parties, and buggy-rides, and dances." + +"I'm keen on dancing," said Mr. Pogis. "I hope they'll give us a dance +on board. Will you put me down for the first dance?" + +"I don't care. Will you send me some flowers? The steward must have some +left in the refrigerator." + +"Well, rather! I'll send you a spray, if he's got enough." + +"A spray? What's a spray?" + +"Oh, I say! My sister always wears one. It's a long chain of flowers +reachin' from your shoulder diagonally down to your waist." + +"Does your sister always have her sprays sent to her?" + +"Well, rather! Don't they send flowers to girls for dances in the +States?" + +"Well, rather! Didn't I just ask you?" + +This was very true, and after a moment of baffle Mr. Pogis said, in +generalization, "If you go with a young lady in a party to the theatre +you send her a box of chocolates." + +"Only when you go to theatre! I couldn't get enough, then, unless you +asked me every night," said Lottie, and while Mr. Pogis was trying to +choose between "Oh, I say!" and something specific, like, "I should like +to ask you every night," she added, "And what would happen if you sent a +girl a spray for the theatre and chocolates for a dance? Wouldn't it jar +her?" + +Now, indeed, there was nothing for him but to answer, "Oh, I say!" + +"Well, say, then! Here comes Boyne, and I must go. Well, Boyne," she +called, from the dark nook where she sat, to her brother as he stumbled +near, with his eyes to the stars, "has the old lady retired?" + +He gave himself away finely. "What old lady!" + +"Well, maybe at your age you don't consider her very old. But I don't +think a boy ought to sit up mooning at his grandmother all night. I know +Miss Rasmith's no relation, if that's what you're going to say!" + +"Oh, I say!" Mr. Pogis chuckled. "You are so personal." + +"Well, rather!" said Lottie, punishing his presumption. "But I don't +think it's nice for a kid, even if she isn't." + +"Kid!" Boyne ground, through his clenched teeth. + +By this time Lottie was up out of her chair and beyond repartee in her +flight down the gangway stairs. She left the two youngsters confronted. + +"What do you say to a lemon-squash?" asked Mr. Pogis, respecting his +friend's wounded dignity, and ignoring Lottie and her offence. + +"I don't care if I do," said Boyne in gloomy acquiescence. + + + + +XV. + +Few witnesses of the fact that Julia Rasmith and her mother had found +themselves on the same steamer with the Rev. Hugh Breckon would have +been of such a simple mind as to think they were there by accident, if +they had also been witnesses of their earlier history. The ladies could +have urged that in returning from California only a few days before +the Amstel sailed, and getting a state-room which had been unexpectedly +given up, they had some claim to a charitable interpretation of their +behavior, but this plea could not have availed them with any connoisseur +of women. Besides, it had been a matter of notoriety among such of Mr. +Breckon's variegated congregation as knew one another that Mrs. Rasmith +had set her heart on him, it Julia had not set her cap for him. In that +pied flock, where every shade and dapple of doubt, from heterodox Jew to +agnostic Christian, foregathered, as it has been said, in the misgiving +of a blessed immortality, the devotion of Mrs. Rasmith to the minister +had been almost a scandal. Nothing had saved the appearance from this +character but Mr. Breckon's open acceptance of her flatteries and +hospitalities; this was so frank, and the behavior of Julia herself so +judicious under the circumstances, that envy and virtue were, if not +equally silenced, equally baffled. So far from pretending not to see her +mother's manoeuvres, Julia invited public recognition of them; in the +way of joking, which she kept within the limits of filial fondness, she +made fun of her mother's infatuation to Breckon himself, and warned +him against the moment when her wiles might be too much for him. Before +other people she did not hesitate to save him from her mother, so that +even those who believed her in the conspiracy owned that no girl could +have managed with more cleverness in a situation where not every one +would have refused to be placed. In this situation Julia Rasmith had the +service of a very clear head, and as was believed by some, a cool heart; +if she and her mother had joint designs upon the minister, hers was the +ambition, and her mother's the affection that prompted them. She was a +long, undulant girl, of a mixed blondness that left you in doubt, after +you had left her, whether her hair or her complexion were not of one +tint; but her features were good, and there could be no question of her +captivating laugh, and her charming mouth, which she was always pulling +down with demure irony. She was like her mother in her looks, but her +indolent, droning temperament must have been from her father, whose +memory was lost in that antiquity which swallows up the record of so +many widows' husbands, and who could not have left her what was left of +her mother's money, for none of it had ever been his. It was still her +mother's, and it was supposed to be the daughter's chief attraction. +There must, therefore, have been a good deal of it, for those who were +harshest with the minister did not believe that a little money would +attract him. Not that they really thought him mercenary; some of his +people considered him gay to the verge of triviality, but there were +none that accused him of insincerity. They would have liked a little +more seriousness in him, especially when they had not much of their +own, and would have had him make up in severity of behavior for what he +lacked, and what they wished him to lack, in austerity of doctrine. + +The Amstel had lost so much time in the rough weather of her first days +out that she could not make it up with her old-fashioned single screw. +She was at best a ten-day boat, counting from Sandy Hook to Boulogne, +and she had not been four days out when she promised to break her record +for slowness. Three days later Miss Rasmith said to Breckon, as he took +the chair which her mother agilely abandoned to him beside her: "The +head steward says it will be a twelve-day trip, end our bedroom steward +thinks more. What is the consensus of opinion in the smoking-room? Where +are you going, mother? Are you planning to leave Mr. Breckon and me +alone again? It isn't necessary. We couldn't get away from each other +if we tried, and all we ask--Well, I suppose age must be indulged in its +little fancies," she called after Mrs. Rasmith. + +Breckon took up the question she had asked him. "The odds are so heavily +in favor of a fifteen-days' run that there are no takers." + +"Now you are joking again," she said. "I thought a sea-voyage might make +you serious." + +"It has been tried before. Besides, it's you that I want to be serious." + +"What about? Besides, I doubt it." + +"About Boyne." + +"Oh! I thought you were going to say some one else." + +"No, I think that is very well settled." + +"You'll never persuade my mother," said Miss Rasmith, with a low, +comfortable laugh. + +"But if you are satisfied--" + +"She will have to resign herself? Well, perhaps. But why do you wish me +to be serious about Boyne?" + +"I have no doubt he amuses you. But that doesn't seem a very good reason +why you should amuse yourself with him." + +"No? Why not?" + +"Well, because the poor boy is in earnest; and you're not +exactly--contemporaries." + +"Why, how old is Boyne?" she asked, with affected surprise. + +"About fifteen, I think," said Breckon, gravely. + +"And I'm but a very few months past thirty. I don't see the great +disparity. But he is merely a brother to me--an elder brother--and he +gives me the best kind of advice." + +"I dare say you need it, but all the same, I am afraid you are putting +ideas into his head." + +"Well, if he began it? If he put them in mine first?" + +She was evidently willing that he should go further, and create the +common ground between them that grows up when one gives a reproof and +the other accepts it; but Breckon, whether he thought that he had now +done his duty, and need say no more, or because he was vexed with her, +left the subject. + +"Mrs. Rasmith says you are going to Switzerland for the rest of the +summer." + +"Yes, to Montreux. Are you going to spend it in Paris?" + +"I'm going to Paris to see. I have had some thoughts of Etretat; I have +cousins there." + +"I wish that I could go to the sea-side. But this happens to be one of +the summers when nothing but mountains can save my mother's life. Shall +you get down to Rome before you go back?" + +"I don't know. If I sail from Naples I shall probably pass through +Rome." + +"You had better stop off. We shall be there in November, and they +say Rome is worth seeing," she laughed demurely. "That is what Boyne +understands. He's promised to use his influence with his family to let +him run down to see us there, if he can't get them all to come. You +might offer to personally conduct them." + +"Yes." said Breckon, with the effect of cloture. "Have you made many +acquaintances an board?" + +"What! Two lone women? You haven't introduced us to any but the Kentons. +But I dare say they are the best. The judge is a dear, and Mrs. Kenton +is everything that is motherly and matronly. Boyne says she is very well +informed, and knows all about the reigning families. If he decides +to marry into them, she can be of great use in saving him from a +mesalliance. I can't say very much for Miss Lottie. Miss Lottie seems to +me distinctly of the minx type. But that poor, pale girl is adorable. I +wish she liked me!" + +"What makes you think she doesn't like you?" Breckon asked. + +"What? Women don't require anything to convince them that other women +can't bear them. They simply know it. I wonder what has happened to +her?" + +"Why do you think anything has happened to her?" + +"Why? Well, girls don't have that air of melancholy absence for nothing. +She is brooding upon something, you may be sure. But you have had so +many more opportunities than I! Do you mean that you haven't suspected a +tragical past far her?" + +"I don't know," said Breckon, a little restively, "that I have allowed +myself to speculate about her past." + +"That is, you oughtn't to have allowed yourself to do so. Well, there +I agree with you. But a woman may do so without impertinence, and I am +sure that Miss Kenton has a story. I have watched her, and her face has +told me everything but the story." + +Breckon would not say that some such revelation had been made to him, +and in the absence of an answer from him Miss Rasmith asked, "Is she +cultivated, too?" + +"Too?" + +"Like her mother." + +"Oh! I should say she had read a good dial. And she's bookish, yes, in a +simple-hearted kind of way." + +"She asks you if you have read 'the book of the year,' and whether you +don't think the heroine is a beautiful character?" + +"Not quite so bad as that. But if you care to be serious about her!" + +"Oh, I do!" + +"I doubt it. Then, I should say that she seems to have grown up in a +place where the interests are so material that a girl who was disposed +to be thoughtful would be thrown back upon reading for her society more +than in more intellectual centres--if there are such things. She has +been so much with books that she does not feel odd in speaking of them +as if they were the usual topics of conversation. It gives her a certain +quaintness." + +"And that is what constitutes her charm?" + +"I didn't know that we were speaking of her charm." + +"No, that is true. But I was thinking of it. She fascinates me. Are they +going to get off at Boulogne?" + +"No, they are going on to Rotterdam." + +"To be sure! Boyne told me. And are you going on with them?" + +"I thought we talked of my going to Paris." Breckon looked round at her, +and she made a gesture of deprecation. + +"Why, of course! How could I forget? But I'm so much interested in Miss +Kenton that I can't think of anything else." + +"Not even of Miss Rasmith?" + +"Not even of Miss Rasmith. I know that she has a history, and that it's +a sad one." She paused in ironical hesitation. "You've been so good as +to caution me about her brother--and I never can be grateful enough--and +that makes me almost free to suggest--" + +She stopped again, and he asked, hardily, "What?" + +"Oh, nothing. It isn't for me to remind my pastor, my ghostly +adviser"--she pulled down her mouth and glanced at him demurely--"and +I will only offer the generalization that a girl is never so much in +danger of having her heart broken as when she's had it broken--Oh, are +you leaving me?" she cried, as Breckon rose from his chair. + +"Well, then, send Boyne to me." She broke into a laugh as he faltered. +"Are you going to sit down again? That is right. And I won't talk any +more about Miss Kenton." + +"I don't mind talking of her," said Breckon. "Perhaps it will even be +well to do so if you are in earnest. Though it strikes me that you have +rather renounced the right to criticise me." + +"Now, is that logical? It seems to me that in putting myself in the +attitude of a final friend at the start, and refusing to be anything +more, I leave established my right to criticise you on the firmest +basis. I can't possibly be suspected of interested motives. Besides, +you've just been criticizing me, if you want a woman's reason!" + +"Well, go on." + +"Why, I had finished. That's the amusing part. I should have supposed +that I could go on forever about Miss Kenton, but I have nothing to go +upon. She has kept her secret very well, and so have the rest of them. +You think I might have got it out of Boyne? Perhaps I might, but you +know I have my little scruples. I don't think it would be quite fair, or +quite nice." + +"You are scrupulous. And I give you credit for having been more delicate +than I've been." + +"You don't mean you've been trying to find it out!" + +"Ah, now I'm not sure about the superior delicacy!" + +"Oh, how good!" said Miss Rasmith. "What a pity you should be wasted in +a calling that limits you so much." + +"You call it limiting? I didn't know but I had gone too far." + +"Not at all! You know there's nothing I like so much as those little +digs." + +"I had forgotten. Then you won't mind my saying that this surveillance +seems to me rather more than I have any right to from you." + +"How exquisitely you put it! Who else could have told me to mind my +own business so delightfully? Well, it isn't my business. I acknowledge +that, and I spoke only because I knew you would be sorry if you had gone +too far. I remembered our promise to be friends." + +She threw a touch of real feeling into her tone, and he responded, "Yes, +and I thank you for it, though it isn't easy." + +She put out her hand to him, and, as he questioningly took it, she +pressed his with animation. "Of course it isn't! Or it wouldn't be for +any other man. But don't you suppose I appreciate that supreme courage +of yours? There is nobody else-nobody!--who could stand up to an +impertinence and turn it to praise by such humility." + +"Don't go too far, or I shall be turning your praise to impertinence +by my humility. You're quite right, though, about the main matter. I +needn't suppose anything so preposterous as you suggest, to feel that +people are best left alone to outlive their troubles, unless they are of +the most obvious kind." + +"Now, if I thought I had done anything to stop you from offering that +sort of helpfulness which makes you a blessing to everybody, I should +never forgive myself." + +"Nothing so dire as that, I believe. But if you've made me question the +propriety of applying the blessing in all cases, you have done a very +good thing." + +Miss Rasmith was silent and apparently serious. After a moment she said, +"And I, for my part, promise to let poor little Boyne alone." + +Breckon laughed. "Don't burlesque it! Besides, I haven't promised +anything." + +"That is very true," said Miss Rasmith, and she laughed, too. + + + + +XVI. + +In one of those dramatic reveries which we all hold with ourselves when +fortune has pressingly placed us, Ellen Kenton had imagined it possible +for her to tell her story to the man who had so gently and truly tried +to be her friend. It was mostly in the way of explaining to him how she +was unworthy of his friendship that the story was told, and she fancied +telling it without being scandalized at violating the conventions that +should have kept her from even dreaming of such a thing. It was all +exalted to a plane where there was no question of fit or unfit in doing +it, but only the occasion; and he would never hear of the unworthiness +which she wished to ascribe to herself. Sometimes he mournfully left +her when she persisted, left her forever, and sometimes he refused, +and retained with her in a sublime kindness, a noble amity, lofty and +serene, which did not seek to become anything else. In this case she +would break from her reveries with self-accusing cries, under her +breath, of "Silly, silly! Oh, how disgusting!" and if at that moment +Breckon were really coming up to sit by her, she would blush to her +hair, and wish to run away, and failing the force for this, would sit +cold and blank to his civilities, and have to be skilfully and gradually +talked back to self-respect and self-tolerance. + +The recurrence of these reveries and their consequence in her made it +difficult for him to put in effect the promise he had given himself in +Miss Rasmith's presence. If Ellen had been eager to welcome his coming, +it would have been very simple to keep away from her, but as she +appeared anxious to escape him, and had to be entreated, as it were, +to suffer his society, something better than his curiosity was piqued, +though that was piqued, too. He believed that he saw her lapsing again +into that morbid state from which he had seemed once able to save her, +and he could not help trying again. He was the more bound to do so by +the ironical observance of Miss Rasmith, who had to be defied first, and +then propitiated; certainly, when she saw him apparently breaking faith +with her, she had a right to some sort of explanation, but certainly +also she had no right to a blind and unreasoning submission from him. +His embarrassment was heightened by her interest in Miss Kenton, +whom, with an admirable show of now finding her safe from Breckon's +attractions, she was always wishing to study from his observation. What +was she really like? The girl had a perfect fascination for her; she +envied him his opportunities of knowing her, and his privileges of +making that melancholy face light up with that heart-breaking smile, and +of banishing that delicious shyness with which she always seemed to meet +him. Miss Rasmith had noticed it; how could she help noticing it? + +Breckon wished to himself that she had been able to help noticing it, or +were more capable of minding her own business than she showed herself, +and his heart closed about Ellen with a tenderness that was dangerously +indignant. At the same time he felt himself withheld by Miss Rasmith's +witness from being all to the girl that he wished to be, and that he now +seemed to have been in those first days of storm, while Miss Rasmith and +her mother were still keeping their cabin. He foresaw that it would end +in Miss Rasmith's sympathetic nature not being able to withhold itself +from Ellen's need of cheerful companionship, and he was surprised, as +little as he was pleased, one morning, when he came to take the chair +beside her to find Miss Rasmith in it, talking and laughing to the girl, +who perversely showed herself amused. Miss Rasmith made as if to offer +him the seat, but he had to go away disappointed, after standing long +enough before them to be aware that they were suspending some topic +while he stayed. + +He naturally supposed the topic to be himself, but it was not so, or at +least not directly so. It was only himself as related to the scolding he +had given Miss Rasmith for trifling with the innocence of Boyne, which +she wished Miss Kenton to understand as the effect of a real affection +for her brother. She loved all boys, and Boyne was simply the most +delightful creature in the world. She went on to explain how delightful +he was, and showed a such an appreciation of the infantile sweetness +mingled with the mature severity of Boyne's character that Ellen could +not help being pleased and won. She told some little stories of Boyne +that threw a light also their home life in Tuskingum, and Miss Rasmith +declared herself perfectly fascinated, and wished that she could go and +live in Tuskingum. She protested that she should not find it dull; Boyne +alone would be entertainment enough; and she figured a circumstance so +idyllic from the hints she had gathered, that Ellen's brow darkened in +silent denial, and Miss Rasmith felt herself, as the children say in +the game, very hot in her proximity to the girl's secret. She would have +liked to know it, but whether she felt that she could know it when +she liked enough, or whether she should not be so safe with Breckon in +knowing it, she veered suddenly away, and said that she was so glad to +have Boyne's family know the peculiar nature of her devotion, which +did not necessarily mean running away with him, though it might come +to that. She supposed she was a little morbid about it from what Mr. +Breckon had been saying; he had a conscience that would break the peace +of a whole community, though he was the greatest possible favorite, not +only with his own congregation, which simply worshipped him, but with +the best society, where he was in constant request. + +It was not her fault if she did not overdo these history, but perhaps +it was all true about the number of girls who were ready and willing to +marry him. It might even be true, though she had no direct authority for +saying it, that he had made up his mind never to marry, and that was the +reason why he felt himself so safe in being the nicest sort of friend. +He was safe, Miss Rasmith philosophized, but whether other people were +so safe was a different question. There were girls who were said to +be dying for him; but of course those things were always said about a +handsome young minister. She had frankly taken him on his own ground, +from the beginning, and she believed that this was what he liked. At any +rate, they had agreed that they were never to be anything but the best +of friends, and they always had been. + +Mrs. Kenton came and shyly took the chair on Miss Rasmith's other side, +and Miss Rasmith said they had been talking about Mr. Breckon, and she +repeated what she had been saying to Ellen. Mrs. Kenton assented more +openly than Ellen could to her praises, but when she went away, and her +daughter sat passive, without comment or apparent interest, the mother +drew a long, involuntary sigh. + +"Do you like her, Ellen?" + +"She tries to be pleasant, I think." + +"Do you think she really knows much about Mr. Breckon?" + +"Oh yes. Why not? She belongs to his church." + +"He doesn't seem to me like a person who would have a parcel of girls +tagging after him." + +"That is what they do in the East, Boyne says." + +"I wish she would let Boyne alone. She is making a fool of the child. +He's round with her every moment. I think she ought to be ashamed, such +an old thing!" + +Ellen chose to protest, or thought it fair to do so. "I don't believe +she is doing him any harm. She just lets him talk out, and everybody +else checks him up so. It was nice of her to come and talk with me, when +we had all been keeping away from her. Perhaps he sent her, though. She +says they have always been such good friends because she wouldn't be +anything else from the beginning." + +"I don't see why she need have told you that." + +"Oh, it was just to show he was run after. I wonder if he thinks we are +running after him? Momma, I am tired of him! I wish he wouldn't speak to +me any more." + +"Why! do you really dislike him, Ellen?" + +"No, not dislike him. But it tires me to have him trying to amuse me. +Don't you understand?" + +Mrs. Kenton said yes, she understood, but she was clear only of the fact +that Ellen seemed flushed and weak at that moment. She believed that +it was Miss Rasmith and not Mr. Breckon who was to blame, but she said: +"Well, you needn't worry about it long. It will only be a day or two now +till we get to Boulogne, and then he will leave us. Hadn't you better go +down now, and rest awhile in your berth? I will bring your things." + +Ellen rose, pulling her wraps from her skirts to give them to her +mother. A voice from behind said between their meeting shoulders: "Oh, +are you going down? I was just coming to beg Miss Kenton to take a +little walk with me," and they looked round together and met Breckon's +smiling face. + +"I'm afraid," Mrs. Kenton began, and then, like a well-trained American +mother, she stopped and left the affair to her daughter. + +"Do you think you can get down with them, momma?" the girl asked, and +somehow her mother's heart was lightened by her evasion, not to call it +uncandor. It was at least not morbid, it was at least like other girls, +and Mrs. Kenton imparted what comfort there was in it to the judge, when +he asked where she had left Ellen. + +"Not that it's any use," she sighed, when she had seen him share it with +a certain shamefacedness. "That woman has got her grip on him, and she +doesn't mean to let go." + +Kenton understood Miss Rasmith by that woman; but he would not allow +himself to be so easily cast down. This was one of the things that +provoked Mrs. Kenton with him; when he had once taken hope he would not +abandon it without reason. "I don't see any evidence of her having her +grip on him. I've noticed him, and he doesn't seem attentive to her. I +should say he tried to avoid her. He certainly doesn't avoid Ellen." + +"What are you thinking of, Rufus?" + +"What are you? You know we'd both be glad if he fancied her." + +"Well, suppose we would? I don't deny it. He is one of the most +agreeable gentlemen I ever saw; one of the kindest and nicest." + +"He's more than that," said the judge. "I've been sounding him on +various points, and I don't see where he's wrong. Of course, I don't +know much about his religious persuasion, if it is one, but I think I'm +a pretty fair judge of character, and that young man has character. +He isn't a light person, though he likes joking and laughing, and he +appreciates Ellen." + +"Yes, so do we. And there's about as much prospect of his marrying her. +Rufus, it's pretty hard! She's just in the mood to be taken with him, +but she won't let herself, because she knows it's of no use. That Miss +Rasmith has been telling her how much he is run after, and I could +see that that settled it for Ellen as plainly as if she said so. More +plainly, for there's enough of the girl in her to make her say one thing +when she means another. She was just saying she was sick of him, and +never wanted to speak to him again, when he came up and asked her to +walk, and she went with him instantly. I knew what she meant. She wasn't +going to let him suppose that anything Miss Rasmith had said was going +to change her." + +"Well, then," said the judge, "I don't see what you're scared at." + +"I'm not SCARED. But, oh, Rufus! It can't come to anything! There isn't +time!" An hysterical hope trembled in her asseveration of despair that +made him smile. + +"I guess if time's all that's wanted--" + +"He is going to get off at Boulogne." + +"Well, we can get off there, too." + +"Rufus, if you dare to think of such a thing!" + +"I don't. But Europe isn't so big but what he can find us again if he +wants to." + +"Ah, if he wants to!" + +Ellen seemed to have let her mother take her languor below along with +the shawls she had given her. Buttoned into a close jacket, and skirted +short for the sea, she pushed against the breeze at Breckon's elbow with +a vigor that made him look his surprise at her. Girl-like, she took it +that something was wrong with her dress, and ran herself over with an +uneasy eye. + +Then he explained: "I was just thinking how much you were like Miss +Lottie-if you'll excuse my being so personal. And it never struck me +before." + +"I didn't suppose we looked alike," said Ellen. + +"No, certainly. I shouldn't have taken you for sisters. And yet, just +now, I felt that you were like her. You seem so much stronger this +morning--perhaps it's that the voyage is doing you good. Shall you be +sorry to have it end?" + +"Shall you? That's the way Lottie would answer." + +Breckon laughed. "Yes, it is. I shall be very sorry. I should be willing +to have it rough again, it that would make it longer. I liked it's being +rough. We had it to ourselves." He had not thought how that sounded, but +if it sounded particular, she did not notice it. + +She merely said, "I was surprised not to be seasick, too." + +"And should you be willing to have it rough again?" + +"You wouldn't see anything more of your friends, then." + +"Ah, yes; Miss Rasmith. She is a great talker, Did you find her +interesting?" + +"She was very interesting." + +"Yes? What did she talk about?" + +Ellen realized the fact too late to withhold "Why, about you." + +"And was that what made her interesting?" + +"Now, what would Lottie say to such a thing as that?" asked Ellen, +gayly. + +"Something terribly cutting, I'm afraid. But don't you! From you I don't +want to believe I deserve it, no matter what Miss Rasmith said me." + +"Oh, she didn't say anything very bad. Unless you mind being a universal +favorite." + +"Well, it makes a man out rather silly." + +"But you can't help that." + +"Now you remind me of Miss Lottie again!" + +"But I didn't mean that," said Ellen, blushing and laughing. "I hope you +wouldn't think I could be so pert." + +"I wouldn't think anything that wasn't to your praise," said Breckon, +and a pause ensued, after which the words he added seemed tame and flat. +"I suspect Miss Rasmith has been idealizing the situation. At any rate, +I shouldn't advise you to trust her report implicitly. I'm at the head +of a society, you know, ethical or sociological, or altruistic, whatever +you choose to call it, which hasn't any very definite object of worship, +and yet meets every Sunday for a sort of worship; and I have to be in +the pulpit. So you see?" + +Ellen said, "I think I understand," with a temptation to smile at the +ruefulness of his appeal. + +Breckon laughed for her. "That's the mischief and the absurdity of it. +But it isn't so bad as it seems. They're really most of them hard-headed +people; and those that are not couldn't make a fool of a man that nature +hadn't begun with. Still, I'm not very well satisfied with my work among +them--that is, I'm not satisfied with myself." He was talking soberly +enough, and he did not find that she was listening too seriously. "I'm +going away to see whether I shall come back." He looked at her to make +sure that she had taken his meaning, and seemed satisfied that she had. +"I'm not sure that I'm fit for any sort of ministry, and I may find the +winter in England trying to find out. I was at school in England, you +know." + +Ellen confessed that she had not known that. + +"Yes; I suppose that's what made me seem 'so Englishy' the first day to +Miss Lottie, as she called it. But I'm straight enough American as far +as parentage goes. Do you think you will be in England-later?" + +"I don't know. If poppa gets too homesick we will go back in the fall." + +"Miss Kenton," said the young man, abruptly, "will you let me tell you +how much I admire and revere your father?" + +Tears came into her eyes and her throat swelled. "But you don't know," +she begun; and then she stopped. + +"I have been wanting to submit something to his judgment; but I've been +afraid. I might seem to be fishing for his favor." + +"Poppa wouldn't think anything that was unjust," said Ellen, gravely. + +"Ah," Breckon laughed, "I suspect that I should rather have him unjust. +I wish you'd tell me what he would think." + +"But I don't know what it is," she protested, with a reflected smile. + +"I was in hopes Miss Rasmith might have told you. Well, it is simply +this, and you will see that I'm not quite the universal favorite she's +been making you fancy me. There is a rift in my lute, a schism in my +little society, which is so little that I could not have supposed +there was enough of it to break in two. There are some who think their +lecturer--for that's what I amount to--ought to be an older, if not +a graver man. They are in the minority, but they're in the right, I'm +afraid; and that's why I happen to be here telling you all this. It's +a question of whether I ought to go back to New York or stay in London, +where there's been a faint call for me." He saw the girl listening +devoutly, with that flattered look which a serious girl cannot keep out +of her face when a man confides a serious matter to her. "I might +safely promise to be older, but could I keep my word if I promised to +be graver? That's the point. If I were a Calvinist I might hold fast by +faith, and fight it out with that; or if I were a Catholic I could +cast myself upon the strength of the Church, and triumph in spite of +temperament. Then it wouldn't matter whether I was grave or gay; it +might be even better if I were gay. But," he went on, in terms which, +doubtless, were not then for the first time formulated in his mind, +"being merely the leader of a sort of forlorn hope in the Divine +Goodness, perhaps I have no right to be so cheerful." + +The note of a sad irony in his words appealed to such indignation for +him in Ellen as she never felt for herself. But she only said, "I don't +believe Poppa could take that in the wrong way if you told him." + +Breckon stared. "Yes your father! What would he say?" + +"I can't tell you. But I'm sure he would know what you meant." + +"And you," he pursued, "what should YOU say?" + +"I? I never thought about such a thing. You mustn't ask me, if you're +serious; and if you're not--" + +"But I am; I am deeply serious. I would like, to know how the case +strikes you. I shall be so grateful if you will tell me." + +"I'm sorry I can't, Mr. Breckon. Why don't you ask poppa?" + +"No, I see now I sha'n't be able. I feel too much, after telling you, +as if I had been posing. The reality has gone out of it all. And I'm +ashamed." + +"You mustn't be," she said, quietly; and she added, "I suppose it would +be like a kind of defeat if you didn't go back?" + +"I shouldn't care for the appearance of defeat," he said, courageously. +"The great question is, whether somebody else wouldn't be of more use in +my place." + +"Nobody could be," said she, in a sort of impassioned absence, and then +coming to herself, "I mean, they wouldn't think so, I don't believe." + +"Then you advise--" + +"No, no! I can't; I don't. I'm not fit to have an opinion about such a +thing; it would be crazy. But poppa--" + +They were at the door of the gangway, and she slipped within and left +him. His nerves tingled, and there was a glow in his breast. It was +sweet to have surprised that praise from her, though he could not have +said why he should value the praise or a girl of her open ignorance and +inexperience in everything that would have qualified her to judge him. +But he found himself valuing it supremely, and wonderingly wishing to be +worthy of it. + + + + +XVII. + +Ellen discovered her father with a book in a distant corner of the +dining-saloon, which he preferred to the deck or the library for his +reading, in such intervals as the stewards, laying and cleaning the +tables, left him unmolested in it. She advanced precipitately upon him, +and stood before him in an excitement which, though he lifted his dazed +eyes to it from his page, he was not entirely aware of till afterwards. +Then he realized that her cheeks were full of color, and her eyes of +light, and that she panted as if she had been running when she spoke. + +"Poppa," she said, "there is something that Mr. Breckon wants to speak +to you--to ask you about. He has asked me, but I want you to see him, +for I think he had better tell you himself." + +While he still stared at her she was as suddenly gone as she had come, +and he remained with his book, which the meaning had as suddenly left. +There was no meaning in her words, except as he put it into them, and +after he had got it in he struggled with it in a sort of perfunctory +incredulity. It was not impossible; it chiefly seemed so because +it seemed too good to be true; and the more he pondered it the more +possible, if not probable, it became. He could not be safe with it till +he had submitted it to his wife; and he went to her while he was sure of +repeating Ellen's words without varying from them a syllable. + +To his astonishment, Mrs. Kenton was instantly convinced. "Why, of +course," she said, "it can't possibly mean anything else. Why should it +be so very surprising? The time hasn't been very long, but they've been +together almost every moment; and he was taken with her from the very +beginning--I could see that. Put on your other coat," she said, as she +dusted the collar of the coat the judge was wearing. "He'll be looking +you up, at once. I can't say that it's unexpected," and she claimed a +prescience in the matter which all her words had hitherto denied. + +Kenton did not notice her inconsistency. "If it were not so exactly +what I wished," he said, "I don't know that I should be surprised at +it myself. Sarah, if I had been trying to imagine any one for Ellen, I +couldn't have dreamed of a person better suited to her than this young +man. He's everything that I could wish him to be. I've seen the pleasure +and comfort she took in his way from the first moment. He seemed to make +her forget--Do you suppose she has forgotten that miserable wretch Do +you think--" + +"If she hadn't, could she be letting him come to speak to you? I don't +believe she ever really cared for Bittridge--or not after he began +flirting with Mrs. Uphill." She had no shrinking from the names which +Kenton avoided with disgust. "The only question for you is to consider +what you shall say to Mr. Breckon." + +"Say to him? Why, of course, if Ellen has made up her mind, there's only +one thing I can say." + +"Indeed there is! He ought to know all about that disgusting Bittridge +business, and you have got to tell him." + +"Sarah, I couldn't. It is too humiliating. How would it do to refer him +to--You could manage that part so much better. I don't see how I could +keep it from seeming an indelicate betrayal of the poor child--" + +"Perhaps she's told him herself," Mrs. Kenton provisionally suggested. + +The judge eagerly caught at the notion. "Do you think so? It would be +like her! Ellen would wish him to know everything." + +He stopped, and his wife could see that he was trembling with +excitement. "We must find out. I will speak to Ellen--" + +"And--you don't think I'd better have the talk with him first?" + +"Certainly not!" + +"Why, Rufus! You were not going to look him up?" + +"No," he hesitated; but she could see that some such thing had been on +his mind. + +"Surely," she said, "you must be crazy!" But she had not the heart to +blight his joy with sarcasm, and perhaps no sarcasm would have blighted +it. + +"I merely wondered what I had better say in case he spoke to me before +you saw Ellen--that's all. Sarah! I couldn't have believed that anything +could please me so much. But it does seem as if it were the assurance +of Ellen's happiness; and she has deserved it, poor child! If ever +there was a dutiful and loving daughter--at least before that wretched +affair--she was one." + +"She has been a good girl," Mrs. Kenton stoically admitted. + +"And they are very well matched. Ellen is a cultivated woman. He never +could have cause to blush for her, either her mind or her manners, +in any circle of society; she would do him credit under any and all +circumstances. If it were Lottie--" + +"Lottie is all right," said her mother, in resentment of his preference; +but she could not help smiling at it. "Don't you be foolish about Ellen. +I approve of Mr. Breckon as much as you do. But it's her prettiness and +sweetness that's taken his fancy, and not her wisdom, if she's got him." + +"If she's got him?" + +"Well, you know what I mean. I'm not saying she hasn't. Dear knows, I +don't want to! I feel just as you do about it. I think it's the greatest +piece of good fortune, coming on top of all our trouble with her. I +couldn't have imagined such a thing." + +He was instantly appeased. "Are you going to speak with Ellen" he +radiantly inquired. + +"I will see. There's no especial hurry, is there?" + +"Only, if he should happen to meet me--" + +"You can keep out of his way, I reckon. Or You can put him off, +somehow." + +"Yes," Kenton returned, doubtfully. "Don't," he added, "be too blunt +with Ellen. You know she didn't say anything explicit to me." + +"I think I will know how to manage, Mr. Kenton." + +"Yes, of course, Sarah. I'm not saying that." + +Breckon did not apparently try to find the judge before lunch, and +at table he did not seem especially devoted to Ellen in her father's +jealous eyes. He joked Lottie, and exchanged those passages or repartee +with her in which she did not mind using a bludgeon when she had not +a rapier at hand; it is doubtful if she was very sensible of the +difference. Ellen sat by in passive content, smiling now and then, and +Boyne carried on a dignified conversation with Mr. Pogis, whom he +had asked to lunch at his table, and who listened with one ear to the +vigorous retorts of Lottie in her combat with Breckon. + +The judge witnessed it all with a grave displeasure, more and more +painfully apparent to his wife. She could see the impatience, the +gathering misgiving, in his face, and she perceived that she must not +let this come to conscious dissatisfaction with Breckon; she knew her +husband capable of indignation with trifling which would complicate the +situation, if it came to that. She decided to speak with Ellen as soon +as possible, and she meant to follow her to her state-room when they +left the table. But fate assorted the pieces in the game differently. +Boyne walked over to the place where Miss Rasmith was sitting with +her mother; Lottie and Mr. Pogis went off to practise duets together, +terrible, four-handed torments under which the piano presently clamored; +and Ellen stood for a moment talked to by Mr. Breckon, who challenged +her then for a walk on deck, and with whom she went away smiling. + +Mrs. Kenton appealed with the reflection of the girl's happiness in her +face to the frowning censure in her husband's; but Kenton spoke first. +"What does he mean?" he demanded, darkly. "If he is making a fool of her +he'll find that that game can't be played twice, with impunity. Sarah, I +believe I should choke him." + +"Mr. Kenton!" she gasped, and she trembled in fear of him, even while +she kept herself with difficulty from shaking him for his folly. "Don't +say such a thing! Can't you see that they want to talk it over? If he +hasn't spoken to you it's because he wants to know how you took what +she said." Seeing the effect of these arguments, she pursued: "Will you +never have any sense? I will speak to Ellen the very minute I get her +alone, and you have just got to wait. Don't you suppose it's hard for +me, too? Have I got nothing to bear?" + +Kenton went silently back to his book, which he took with him to the +reading-room, where from time to time his wife came to him and reported +that Ellen and Breckon were still walking up and down together, or that +they were sitting down talking, or were forward, looking over at the +prow, or were watching the deck-passengers dancing. Her husband received +her successive advices with relaxing interest, and when she had brought +the last she was aware that the affair was entirely in her hands with +all the responsibility. After the gay parting between Ellen and Breckon, +which took place late in the afternoon, she suffered an interval to +elapse before she followed the girl down to her state-room. She found +her lying in her berth, with shining eyes and glad, red cheeks; she was +smiling to herself. + +"That is right, Ellen," her mother said. "You need rest after your long +tramp." + +"I'm not tired. We were sitting down a good deal. I didn't think how +late it was. I'm ever so much better. Where's Lottie?" + +"Off somewhere with that young Englishman," said Mrs. Kenton, as if that +were of no sort of consequence. "Ellen," she added, abruptly, trying +within a tremulous smile to hide her eagerness, "what is this that Mr. +Breckon wants to talk with your father about?" + +"Mr. Breckon? With poppa?" + +"Yes, certainly. You told him this morning that Mr. Breckon--" + +"Oh! Oh yes!" said Ellen, as if recollecting something that had slipped +her mind. "He wants poppa to advise him whether to go back to his +congregation in New York or not." + +Mrs. Kenton sat in the corner of the sofa next the door, looking into +the girl's face on the pillow as she lay with her arms under her head. +Tears of defeat and shame came into her eyes, and she could not see the +girl's light nonchalance in adding: + +"But he hasn't got up his courage yet. He thinks he'll ask him after +dinner. He says he doesn't want poppa to think he's posing. I don't know +what he means." + +Mrs. Kenton did not speak at once. Her bitterest mortification was not +for herself, but for the simple and tender father-soul which had been +so tried already. She did not know how he would bear it, the +disappointment, and the cruel hurt to his pride. But she wanted to fall +on her knees in thankfulness that he had betrayed himself only to her. + +She started in sudden alarm with the thought. "Where is he now--Mr. +Breckon?" + +"He's gone with Boyne down into the baggage-room." + +Mrs. Kenton sank back in her corner, aware now that she would not have +had the strength to go to her husband even to save him from the awful +disgrace of giving himself away to Breckon. "And was that all?" she +faltered. + +"All?" + +"That he wanted to speak to your father about?" + +She must make irrefragably sure, for Kenton's sake, that she was not +misunderstanding. + +"Why, of course! What else? Why, momma! what are you crying about?" + +"I'm not crying, child. Just some foolishness of your father's. He +understood--he thought--" Mrs. Kenton began to laugh hysterically. "But +you know how ridiculous he is; and he supposed--No, I won't tell you!" + +It was not necessary. The girl's mind, perhaps because it was imbued +already with the subject, had possessed itself of what filled her +mother's. She dropped from the elbow on which she had lifted herself, +and turned her face into the pillow, with a long wail of shame. + + + + +XVIII. + +Mrs. Kenton's difficulties in setting her husband right were +indefinitely heightened by the suspicion that the most unsuspicious of +men fell into concerning Breckon. Did Breckon suppose that the matter +could be turned off in that way? he stupidly demanded; and when he was +extricated from this error by his wife's representation that Breckon +had not changed at all, but had never told Ellen that he wished to speak +with him of anything but his returning to his society, Kenton still +could not accept the fact. He would have contended that at least the +other matter must have been in Breckon's mind; and when he was beaten +from this position, and convinced that the meaning they had taken from +Ellen's words had never been in any mind but their own, he fell into +humiliation so abject that he could hide it only by the hauteur with +which he carried himself towards Breckon when they met at dinner. He +would scarcely speak to the young man; Ellen did not come to the +table; Lottie and Boyne and their friend Mr. Pogis were dining with the +Rasmiths, and Mrs. Kenton had to be, as she felt, cringingly kind to +Breckon in explaining just the sort of temporary headache that kept +her eldest daughter away. He was more than ordinarily sympathetic +and polite, but he was manifestly bewildered by Kenton's behavior. He +refused an hilarious invitation from Mrs. Rasmith, when he rose from +table, to stop and have his coffee with her on his way out of the +saloon. His old adorer explained that she had ordered a small bottle of +champagne in honor of its being the night before they were to get into +Boulogne, and that he ought to sit down and help her keep the young +people straight. Julia, she brokenly syllabled, with the gay beverage +bubbling back into her throat, was not the least use; she was worse than +any. Julia did not look it, in the demure regard which she bent upon her +amusing mother, and Breckon persisted in refusing. He said he thought +he might safely leave them to Boyne, and Mrs. Rasmith said into her +handkerchief, "Oh yes! Boyne!" and pressed Boyne's sleeve with her +knobbed and jewelled fingers. + +It was evident where most of the small bottle had gone, but Breckon was +none the cheerfuller for the spectacle of Mrs. Rasmith. He could not +have a moment's doubt as to the sort of work he had been doing in New +York if she were an effect of it, and he turned his mind from the sad +certainty back to the more important inquiry as to what offence his wish +to advise with Judge Kenton could have conveyed. Ellen had told him in +the afternoon that she had spoken with her father about it, and she had +not intimated any displeasure or reluctance on him; but apparently he +had decided not to suffer himself to be approached. + +It might be as well. Breckon had not been able to convince himself that +his proposal to consult Judge Kenton was not a pose. He had flashes +of owning that it was contemplated merely as a means of ingratiating +himself with Ellen. Now, as he found his way up and down among the empty +steamer-chairs, he was aware, at the bottom of his heart, of not +caring in the least for Judge Kenton's repellent bearing, except as it +possibly, or impossibly, reflected some mood of hers. He could not make +out her not coming to dinner; the headache was clearly an excuse; for +some reason she did not wish to see him, he argued, with the egotism of +his condition. + +The logic of his conclusion was strengthened at breakfast by her +continued absence; and this time Mrs. Kenton made no apologies for her. +The judge was a shade less severe; or else Breckon did not put himself +so much in the way to be withheld as he had the night before. Boyne and +Lottie carried on a sort of muted scrap, unrebuked by their mother, who +seemed too much distracted in some tacit trouble to mind them. From +time to time Breckon found her eyes dwelling upon him wonderingly, +entreatingly; she dropped them, if she caught his, and colored. + +In the afternoon it was early evident that they were approaching +Boulogne. The hatch was opened and the sailors began getting up the +baggage of the passengers who were going to disembark. It seemed a long +time for everybody till the steamer got in; those going ashore sat on +their hand-baggage for an hour before the tug came up to take, them +off. Mr. Pogis was among them; he had begun in the forenoon to mark +the approaching separation between Lottie and himself by intervals of +unmistakable withdrawal. Another girl might have cared, but Lottie did +not care, for her failure to get a rise out of him by her mockingly +varied "Oh, I say!" and "Well, rather!" In the growth of his dignified +reserve Mr. Pogis was indifferent to jeers. By whatever tradition +of what would or would not do he was controlled in relinquishing her +acquaintance, or whether it was in obedience to some imperative ideal, +or some fearful domestic influence subtly making itself felt from the +coasts of his native island, or some fine despair of equalling the +imagined grandeur of Lottie's social state in Tuskingum by anything he +could show her in England, it was certain that he was ending with Lottie +then and there. At the same time he was carefully defining himself from +the Rasmiths, with whom he must land. He had his state-room things put +at an appreciable distance, where he did not escape a final stab from +Lottie. + +"Oh, do give me a rose out of that," she entreated, in travestied +imploring, as he stood looking at a withered bouquet which the steward +had brought up with his rugs. + +"I'm takin' it home," he explained, coldly. + +"And I want to take a rose back to New York. I want to give it to a +friend of mine there." + +Mr. Pogis hesitated. Then he asked, "A man?" "Well, rather!" said +Lottie. + +He answered nothing, but looked definitively down at the flowers in his +hand. + +"Oh, I say!" Lottie exulted. + +Boyne remained fixed in fealty to the Rasmiths, with whom Breckon was +also talking as Mrs. Kenton came up with the judge. She explained how +sorry her daughter Ellen was at not being able to say goodbye; she was +still not at all well; and the ladies received her excuses with polite +patience. Mrs. Rasmith said she did not know what they should do without +Boyne, and Miss Rasmith put her arm across his shoulders and pulled him +up to her, and implored, "Oh, give him to me, Mrs. Kenton!" + +Boyne stole an ashamed look at his mother, and his father said, with +an unbending to Breckon which must have been the effect of severe +expostulation from Mrs. Kenton, "I suppose you and the ladies will go to +Paris together." + +"Why, no," Breckon said, and he added, with mounting confusion, "I--I +had arranged to keep on to Rotterdam. I was going to mention it." + +"Keep on to Rotterdam!" Mrs. Rasmith's eyes expressed the greatest +astonishment. + +"Why, of course, mother!" said her daughter. "Don't you know? Boyne told +us." + +Boyne, after their parting, seized the first chance of assuring his +mother that he had not told Miss Rasmith that, for he had not known it, +and he went so far in her condemnation to wonder how she could say such +a thing. His mother said it was not very nice, and then suggested that +perhaps she had heard it from some one else, and thought it was he. +She acquitted him of complicity with Miss Rasmith in forbearing to +contradict her; and it seemed to her a fitting time to find out from +Boyne what she honestly could about the relation of the Rasmiths to Mr. +Breckon. It was very little beyond their supposition, which every one +else had shared, that he was going to land with them at Boulogne, and +he must have changed his mind very suddenly. Boyne had not heard the +Rasmiths speak of it. Miss Rasmith never spoke of Mr. Breckon at all; +but she seemed to want to talk of Ellen; she was always asking about +her, and what was the matter with her, and how long she had been sick. + +"Boyne," said his mother, with a pang, "you didn't tell her anything +about Ellen?" + +"Momma!" said the boy, in such evident abhorrence of the idea that she +rested tranquil concerning it. She paid little attention to what Boyne +told her otherwise of the Rasmiths. Her own horizon were so limited that +she could not have brought home to herself within them that wandering +life the Rasmiths led from climate to climate and sensation to +sensation, with no stay so long as the annually made in New York, where +they sometimes passed months enough to establish themselves in giving +and taking tea in a circle of kindred nomads. She conjectured as +ignorantly as Boyne himself that they were very rich, and it would +not have enlightened her to know that the mother was the widow of a +California politician, whom she had married in the sort of middle period +following upon her less mortuary survival of Miss Rasmith's father, +whose name was not Rasmith. + +What Mrs. Kenton divined was that they had wanted to get Breckon, and +that so far as concerned her own interest in him they had wanted to +get him away from Ellen. In her innermost self-confidences she did not +permit herself the notion that Ellen had any right to him; but still it +was a relief to have them off the ship, and to have him left. Of all +the witnesses of the fact, she alone did not find it awkward. Breckon +himself found it very awkward. He did not wish to be with the +Rasmiths, but he found it uncomfortable not being with them, under +the circumstances, and he followed them ashore in tingling reveries of +explanation and apology. He had certainly meant to get off at Boulogne, +and when he had suddenly and tardily made up his mind to keep on to +Rotterdam, he had meant to tell them as soon as he had the labels on his +baggage changed. He had not meant to tell them why he had changed his +mind, and he did not tell them now in these tingling reveries. He did +not own the reason in his secret thoughts, for it no longer seemed a +reason; it no longer seemed a cause. He knew what the Rasmiths would +think; but he could easily make that right with his conscience, at +least, by parting with the Kentons at Rotterdam, and leaving them to +find their unconducted way to any point they chose beyond. He separated +himself uncomfortably from them when the tender had put off with +her passengers and the ship had got under way again, and went to the +smoking-room, while the judge returned to his book and Mrs. Kenton +abandoned Lottie to her own devices, and took Boyne aside for her +apparently fruitless inquiries. + +They were not really so fruitless but that at the end of them she could +go with due authority to look up her husband. She gently took his book +from him and shut it up. "Now, Mr. Kenton," she began, "if you don't go +right straight and find Mr. Breckon and talk with him, I--I don't know +what I will do. You must talk to him--" + +"About Ellen?" the judge frowned. + +"No, certainly not. Talk with him about anything that interests you. Be +pleasant to him. Can't you see that he's going on to Rotterdam on our +account?" + +"Then I wish he wasn't. There's no use in it." + +"No matter! It's polite in him, and I want you to show him that you +appreciate it." + +"Now see here, Sarah," said the judge, "if you want him shown that we +appreciate his politeness why don't you do it yourself?" + +"I? Because it would look as if you were afraid to. It would look as if +we meant something by it." + +"Well, I am afraid; and that's just what I'm afraid of. I declare, my +heart comes into my mouth whenever I think what an escape we had. I +think of it whenever I look at him, and I couldn't talk to him without +having that in my mind all the time. No, women can manage those things +better. If you believe he is going along on our account, so as to help +us see Holland, and to keep us from getting into scrapes, you're the +one to make it up to him. I don't care what you say to show him our +gratitude. I reckon we will get into all sorts of trouble if we're left +to ourselves. But if you think he's stayed because he wants to be with +Ellen, and--" + +"Oh, I don't KNOW what I think! And that's silly I can't talk to him. +I'm afraid it'll seem as if we wanted to flatter him, and goodness knows +we don't want to. Or, yes, we do! I'd give anything if it was true. +Rufus, do you suppose he did stay on her account? My, oh my! If I could +only think so! Wouldn't it be the best thing in the world for the poor +child, and for all of us? I never saw anybody that I liked so much. But +it's too good to be true." + +"He's a nice fellow, but I don't think he's any too good for Ellen." + +"I'm not saying he is. The great thing is that he's good enough, and +gracious knows what will happen if she meets some other worthless +fellow, and gets befooled with him! Or if she doesn't take a fancy to +some one, and goes back to Tuskingum without seeing any one else she +likes, there is that awful wretch, and when she hears what Dick did to +him--she's just wrong-headed enough to take up with him again to make +amends to him. Oh, dear oh, dear! I know Lottie will let it out to her +yet!" + +The judge began threateningly, "You tell Lottie from me--" + +"What?" said the girl herself, who had seen her father and mother +talking together in a remote corner of the music-room and had stolen +light-footedly upon them just at this moment. + +"Lottie, child," said her mother, undismayed at Lottie's arrival in her +larger anxiety, "I wish you would try and be agreeable to Mr. Breckon. +Now that he's going on with us to Holland, I don't want him to think +we're avoiding him." + +"Why?" + +"Oh, because." + +"Because you want to get him for Ellen?" + +"Don't be impudent," said her father. "You do as your mother bids you." + +"Be agreeable to that old Breckon? I think I see myself! I'd sooner +read! I'm going to get a book now." She left them as abruptly as she had +come upon them, and ran across to the bookcase, where she remained two +stepping and peering through the glass doors at the literature within, +in unaccustomed question concerning it. + +"She's a case," said the judge, looking at her not only with relenting, +but with the pride in her sufficiency for all the exigencies of life +which he could not feel in Ellen. "She can take care of herself." + +"Oh yes," Mrs. Kenton sadly assented, "I don't think anybody will ever +make a fool of Lottie." + +"It's a great deal more likely to be the other way," her father +suggested. + +"I think Lottie is conscientious," Mrs. Kenton protested. "She wouldn't +really fool with a man." + +"No, she's a good girl," the judge owned. + +"It's girls like Ellen who make the trouble and the care. They are too +good, and you have to think some evil in this world. Well!" She rose and +gave her husband back his book. + +"Do you know where Boyne is?" + +"No. Do you want him to be pleasant to Mr. Breckon?" + +"Somebody has got to. But it would be ridiculous if nobody but Boyne +was." + +She did not find Boyne, after no very exhaustive search, and the boy was +left to form his bearing towards Breckon on the behavior of the rest of +his family. As this continued helplessly constrained both in his father +and mother, and voluntarily repellent in Lottie, Boyne decided upon a +blend of conduct which left Breckon in greater and greater doubt of his +wisdom in keeping on to Rotterdam. There was no good reason which he +would have been willing to give himself, from the beginning. It had been +an impulse, suddenly coming upon him in the baggage-room where he had +gone to get something out of his trunk, and where he had decided to +have the label of his baggage changed from the original destination at +Boulogne to the final port of the steamer's arrival. When this was once +done he was sorry, but he was ashamed to have the label changed back. +The most assignable motive for his act was his reluctance to go on +to Paris with the Rasmiths, or rather with Mrs. Rasmith; for with her +daughter, who was not a bad fellow, one could always manage. He was +quite aware of being safely in his own hands against any design of Mrs. +Rasmith's, but her machinations humiliated him for her; he hated to see +her going through her manoeuvres, and he could not help grieving for her +failures, with a sort of impersonal sympathy, all the more because he +disliked her as little as he respected her. + +The motive which he did not assign to himself was that which probably +prevailed with him, though in the last analysis it was as selfish, +no doubt, as the one he acknowledged. Ellen Kenton still piqued his +curiosity, still touched his compassion. He had so far from exhausted +his wish or his power to befriend her, to help her, that he had still a +wholly unsatisfied longing to console her, especially when she drooped +into that listless attitude she was apt to take, with her face fallen +and her hands let lie, the back of one in the palm of the other, in +her lap. It was possibly the vision of this following him to the +baggage-room, when he went to open his trunk, that as much as anything +decided him to have the label changed on his baggage, but he did not own +it then, and still less did he own it now, when he found himself quite +on his own hands for his pains. + +He felt that for some reason the Kentons were all avoiding him. Ellen, +indeed, did not take part, against him, unless negatively, for she had +appeared neither at lunch nor at dinner as the vessel kept on its way +after leaving Boulogne; and when he ventured to ask for her Mrs. Kenton +answered with embarrassment that she was not feeling very well. He asked +for her at lunch, but not at dinner, and when he had finished that meal +he went on the promenade-deck, and walked forlornly up and down, feeling +that he had been a fool. + +Mrs. Kenton went below to her daughter's room, and found Ellen there +on the sofa, with her book shut on her thumb at the place where the +twilight had failed her. + +"Ellen, dear," her mother said, "aren't you feeling well?" + +"Yes, I'm well enough," said the girl, sensible of a leading in the +question. "Why?" + +"Oh, nothing. Only--only I can't make your father behave naturally with +Mr. Breckon. He's got his mind so full of that mistake we both came so +near making that he can't think of anything else. He's so sheepish +about it that he can hardly speak to him or even look at him; and I must +confess that I don't do much better. You know I don't like to put myself +forward where your father is, and if I did, really I don't believe I +could make up my mouth to say anything. I did want Lottie to be nice +to him, but Lottie dislikes him so! And even Boyne--well, it wouldn't +matter about Boyne, if he didn't seem to be carrying out a sort of +family plan--Boyne barely answers him when he speaks to him. I don't +know what he can think." Ellen was a good listener, and Mrs. Kenton, +having begun, did not stop till she had emptied the bag. "I just know +that he didn't get off at Boulogne because he wanted to stay on with us, +and thought he could be useful to us at The Hague, and everywhere; and +here we're acting as ungratefully! Why, we're not even commonly polite +to him, and I know he feels it. I know that he's hurt." + +Ellen rose and stood before the glass, into which he asked of her +mother's reflected face, while she knotted a fallen coil of hair into +its place, "Where is he?" + +"I don't know. He went on deck somewhere." + +Ellen put on her hat and pinned it, and put on her jacket and buttoned +it. Then she started towards the door. Her mother made way for her, +faltering, "What are you going to do, Ellen?" + +"I am going to do right." + +"Don't-catch cold!" her mother called after her figure vanishing down +the corridor, but the warning couched in these terms had really no +reference to the weather. + +The girl's impulse was one of those effects of the weak will in her +which were apt to leave her short of the fulfilment of a purpose. It +carried her as her as the promenade, which she found empty, and she went +and leaned upon the rail, and looked out over the sorrowful North Sea, +which was washing darkly away towards where the gloomy sunset had been. + +Steps from the other side of the ship approached, hesitated towards her, +and then arrested themselves. She looked round. + +"Why, Miss Kenton!" said Breckon, stupidly. + +"The sunset is over, isn't it?" she answered. + +"The twilight isn't." Breckon stopped; then he asked, "Wouldn't you like +to take a little walk?" + +"Yes," she answered, and smiled fully upon him. He had never known +before how radiant a smile she lead. + +"Better have my arm. It's getting rather dark." + +"Well." She put her hand on his arm and he felt it tremble there, while +she palpitated, "We are all so glad you could go on to Rotterdam. My +mother wanted me to tell you." + +"Oh, don't speak of that," said Breckon, not very appositely. Presently +he forced a laugh, in order to add, with lightness, "I was afraid +perhaps I had given you all some reason to regret it!" + +She said, "I was afraid you would think that--or momma was--and I +couldn't bear to have you." + +"Well, then, I won't." + + + + + +XIX. + +Breckon had answered with gayety, but his happiness was something beyond +gayety. He had really felt the exclusion from the Kentons in which he +had passed the day, and he had felt it the more painfully because +he liked them all. It may be owned that he liked Ellen best from the +beginning, and now he liked her better than ever, but even in the day's +exile he had not ceased to like each of them. They were, in their family +affection, as lovable as that sort of selfishness can make people. They +were very united and good to one another. Lottie herself, except in +her most lurid moments, was good to her brother and sister, and almost +invariably kind to her parents. She would not, Breckon saw, have brooked +much meddling with her flirtations from them, but as they did not offer +to meddle, she had no occasion to grumble on that score. She grumbled +when they asked her to do things for Ellen, but she did them, and though +she never did them without grumbling, she sometimes did them without +being asked. She was really very watchful of Ellen when it would least +have been expected, and sometimes she was sweet. She never was sweet +with Boyne, but she was often his friend, though this did not keep her +from turning upon him at the first chance to give him a little dig, or +a large one, for that matter. As for Boyne, he was a mass of helpless +sweetness, though he did not know it, and sometimes took himself for +an iceberg when he was merely an ice-cream of heroic mould. He was as +helplessly sweet with Lottie as with any one, and if he suffered keenly +from her treacheries, and seized every occasion to repay them in kind, +it was clearly a matter of conscience with him, and always for the good. +Their father and mother treated their squabbles very wisely, Breckon +thought. They ignored them as much as possible, and they recognized +them without attempting to do that justice between them which would have +rankled in both their breasts. + +To a spectator who had been critical at first, Mr. and Mrs. Kenton +seemed an exemplary father and mother with Ellen as well as with their +other children. It is easy to be exemplary with a sick girl, but they +increasingly affected Breckon as exemplary with Ellen. He fancied that +they acted upon each other beneficially towards her. At first he had +foreboded some tiresome boasting from the father's tenderness, and some +weak indulgence of the daughter's whims from her mother; but there was +either never any ground for this, or else Mrs. Kenton, in keeping her +husband from boasting, had been obliged in mere consistency to set a +guard upon her own fondness. + +It was not that. Ellen, he was more and more decided, would have abused +the weakness of either; if there was anything more angelic than her +patience, it was her wish to be a comfort to them, and, between the +caprices of her invalidism, to be a service. It was pathetic to see her +remembering to do things for them which Boyne and Lottie had forgotten, +or plainly shirked doing, and to keep the fact out of sight. She really +kept it out of sight with them, and if she did not hide it from so close +an observer as Breckon, that was more his fault than hers. When her +father first launched out in her praise, or the praise of her reading, +the young man had dreaded a rustic prig; yet she had never been a prig, +but simply glad of what book she had known, and meekly submissive to his +knowledge if not his taste. He owned that she had a right to her taste, +which he found almost always good, and accounted for as instinctive in +the absence of an imaginable culture in her imaginable ambient. So far +as he had glimpses of this, he found it so different from anything +he had known that the modest adequacy of Mrs. Kenton in the political +experiences of modern Europe, as well as the clear judgments of Kenton +himself in matters sometimes beyond Breekon himself, mystified him no +less than Ellen's taste. + +Even with the growth of his respect for their intelligence and his love +of their kindliness, he had not been able to keep a certain patronage +from mingling, and it was not till they evinced not only entire ability, +but an apparent wish to get on without his approval, without his +acquaintance even, that he had conceived a just sense of them. The like +is apt to happen with the best of us, when we are also the finest, and +Breckon was not singular in coming to a due consciousness of something +valuable only in the hour of its loss. He did not know that the loss was +only apparent. He knew that he had made a distinct sacrifice for these +people, and that, when he had prepared himself to befriend them little +short of self-devotion, they showed themselves indifferent, and almost +repellent. In the revulsion of feeling, when Ellen gave him her mother's +message, and frankly offered him reparation on behalf of her whole +family, he may have overdone his gratitude, but he did not overdo it to +her perception. They walked up and down the promenade of the Amstel, +in the watery North Sea moon, while bells after bells noted the hour +unheeded, and when they parted for the night it was with an involuntary +pressure of hands, from which she suddenly pulled hers, and ran down the +corridor of her state-room and Lottie's. + +He stood watching the narrow space in which she had vanished, and +thinking how gentle she was, and how she had contrived somehow to make +him feel that now it was she who had been consoling him, and trying to +interest him and amuse him. He had not realized that before; he had +been used to interesting and amusing her, but he could not resent it; +he could not resent the implication of superiority, if such a thing were +possible, which her kindness conveyed. The question with Breckon was +whether she had walked with him so long because she wished, in the hour, +to make up as fully as possible for the day's neglect, or because she +had liked to walk up and down with him. It was a question he found +keeping itself poignantly, yet pleasantly, in his mind, after he had got +into his berth under the solidly slumberous Boyne, and inclining now to +one solution and now to the other, with a delicate oscillation that was +charming. + +The Amstel took her time to get into Rotterdam, and when her passengers +had gone ashore the next forenoon the train that carried Breckon to The +Hague in the same compartment with the Kentons was in no greater hurry. +It arrived with a deliberation which kept it from carrying them on to +Amsterdam before they knew it, and Mrs. Kenton had time to place such +parts of the wars in the Rise of the Dutch Republic as she could attach +to the names of the stations and the general features of the landscape. +Boyne was occupied with improvements for the windmills and the +canal-boats, which did not seem to him of the quality of the Michigan +aerometers, or the craft with which he was familiar on the Hudson River +and on the canal that passed through Tuskingum. Lottie, with respect +to the canals, offered the frank observation that they smelt, and in +recognizing a fact which travel almost universally ignores in Holland, +she watched her chance of popping up the window between herself and +Boyne, which Boyne put down with mounting rage. The agriculture which +triumphed everywhere on the little half--acre plots lifted fifteen +inches above the waters of the environing ditches, and the black and +white cattle everywhere attesting the immemorial Dutch ideal of a cow, +were what at first occupied Kenton, and he was tardily won from them to +the question of fighting over a country like that. It was a concession +to his wife's impassioned interest in the overthrow of the Spaniards in +a landscape which had evidently not changed since. She said it was hard +to realize that Holland was not still a republic, and she was not very +patient with Breckon's defence of the monarchy on the ground that the +young Queen was a very pretty girl. + +"And she is only sixteen," Boyne urged. + +"Then she is two years too old for you," said Lottie. + +"No such thing!" Boyne retorted. "I was fifteen in June." + +"Dear me! I should never have thought it," said his sister. + +Ellen seemed hardly to look out of the window at anything directly, but +when her father bade her see this thing and that, it seemed that she had +seen it already. She said at last, with a quiet sigh, "I never want to +go away." + +She had been a little shy of Breckon the whole morning, and had kept him +asking himself whether she was sorry she had walked so long with him the +night before, or, having offered him due reparation for her family, she +was again dropping him. Now and then he put her to the test by words +explicitly directed at her, and she replied with the dreamy passivity +which seemed her normal mood, and in which he could fancy himself half +forgotten, or remembered with an effort. + +In the midst of this doubt she surprised him--he reflected that she was +always surprising him--by asking him how far it was from The Hague to +the sea. He explained that The Hague was in the sea like all the rest +of Holland, but that if she meant the shore, it was no distance at all. +Then she said, vaguely, she wished they were going to the shore. Her +father asked Breckon if there was not a hotel at the beach, and the +young man tried to give him a notion of the splendors of the Kurhaus +at Scheveningen; of Scheveningen itself he despaired of giving any just +notion. + +"Then we can go there," said the judge, ignoring Ellen, in his decision, +as if she had nothing to do with it. + +Lottie interposed a vivid preference for The Hague. She had, she said, +had enough of the sea for one while, and did not want to look at it +again till they sailed for home. Boyne turned to his father as if a good +deal shaken by this reasoning, and it was Mrs. Kenton who carried the +day for going first to a hotel in The Hague and prospecting from there +in the direction of Scheveningen; Boyne and his father could go down to +the shore and see which they liked best. + +"I don't see what that has to do with me," said Lottie. No one was +alarmed by her announcement that if she did not like Scheveningen she +should stay at The Hague, whatever the rest did; in the event fortune +favored her going with her family. + +The hotel in The Hague was very pleasant, with a garden behind it, where +a companionable cat had found a dry spot, and where Lottie found the +cat and made friends with it. But she said the hotel was full of Cook's +tourists, whom she recognized, in spite of her lifelong ignorance of +them, by a prescience derived from the conversation of Mr. Pogis, and +from the instinct of a society woman, already rife in her. She found +that she could not stay in a hotel with Cook's tourists, and she +took her father's place in the exploring party which went down to the +watering-place in the afternoon, on the top of a tram-car, under the +leafy roof of the adorable avenue of trees which embowers the track to +Scheveningen. She disputed Boyne's impressions of the Dutch people, whom +he found looking more like Americans than any foreigners he had seen, +and she snubbed Breckon from his supposed charge of the party. But after +the start, when she declared that Ellen could not go, and that it was +ridiculous for her to think of it, she was very good to her, and looked +after her safety and comfort with a despotic devotion. + +At the Kurhaus she promptly took the lead in choosing rooms, for she had +no doubt of staying there after the first glance at the place, and +she showed a practical sense in settling her family which at least her +mother appreciated when they were installed the next day. + +Mrs. Kenton could not make her husband admire Lottie's faculty so +readily. "You think it would have been better for her to sit down with +Ellen, on the sand and dream of the sea," she reproached him, with a +tender resentment on behalf of Lottie. "Everybody can't dream." + +"Yes, but I wish she didn't keep awake with such a din," said the judge. +After all, he admired Lottie's judgment about the rooms, and he censured +her with a sigh of relief from care as he sank back in the easy-chair +fronting the window that looked out on the North Sea; Lottie had already +made him appreciate the view till he was almost sick of it. + +"What is the matter?" said Mrs. Kenton, sharply. "Do you want to be +in Tuskingum? I suppose you would rather be looking into Richard's +back-yard." + +"No," said the judge, mildly, "this is very nice." + +"It will do Ellen good, every minute. I don't care how much she sits on +the sands and dream. I'll love to see her." + +The sitting on the sand was a survival of Mr. Kenton's preoccupations +of the sea-side. As a mater of fact, Ellen was at that moment sitting in +one of the hooked wicker arm-chairs which were scattered over the whole +vast beach like a growth of monstrous mushrooms, and, confronting her +in cosey proximity, Breckon sat equally hidden in another windstuhl. Her +father and her mother were able to keep them placed, among the multitude +of windstuhls, by the presence of Lottie, who hovered near them, and, +with Boyne, fended off the demure, wicked-looking little Scheveningen +girls. On a smaller scale these were exactly like their demure, +wicked-looking Scheveningen mothers, and they approached with knitting +in their hands, and with large stones folded in their aprons, which they +had pilfered from the mole, and were trying to sell for footstools. The +windstuhl men and they were enemies, and when Breckon bribed them to go +away, the windstuhl men chased them, and the little girls ran, making +mouths at Boyne over their shoulders. He scorned to notice them; but he +was obliged to report the misconduct of Lottie, who began making eyes at +the Dutch officers as soon as she could feel that Ellen was safely off +her hands. She was the more exasperating and the more culpable to Boyne, +because she had asked him to walk up the beach with her, and had then +made the fraternal promenade a basis of operations against the Dutch +military. She joined her parents in ignoring Boyne's complaints, and +continued to take credit for all the pleasant facts of the situation; +she patronized her family as much for the table d'hote at luncheon as +for the comfort of their rooms. She was able to assure them that there +was not a Cook's tourist in the hotel, where there seemed to be nearly +every other kind of fellow-creature. At the end of the first week she +had acquaintance of as many nationalities as she could reach in their +native or acquired English, in all the stages of haughty toleration, +vivid intimacy, and cold exhaustion. She had a faculty for getting +through with people, or of ceasing to have any use for them, which was +perhaps her best safeguard in her adventurous flirting; while the simple +aliens were still in the full tide of fancied success, Lottie was sick +of them all, and deep in an indiscriminate correspondence with her young +men in Tuskingum. + +The letters which she had invited from these while still in New York +arrived with the first of those readdressed from the judge's London +banker. She had more letters than all the rest of the family together, +and counted a half-dozen against a poor two for her sister. Mrs. Kenton +cared nothing about Lottie's letters, but she was silently uneasy about +the two that Ellen carelessly took. She wondered who could be writing to +Ellen, especially in a cover bearing a handwriting altogether strange to +her. + +"It isn't from Bittridge, at any rate," she said to her husband, in the +speculation which she made him share. "I am always dreading to have her +find out what Richard did. It would spoil everything, I'm afraid, and +now everything is going so well. I do wish Richard hadn't, though, of +course, he did it for the best. Who do you think has been writing to +her?" + +"Why don't you ask her?" + +"I suppose she will tell me after a while. I don't like to seem to be +following her up. One was from Bessie Pearl, I think." + +Ellen did not speak of her letters to her mother, and after waiting a +day or two, Mrs. Kenton could not refrain from asking her. + +"Oh, I forgot," said Ellen. "I haven't read them yet." + +"Haven't read them!" said Mrs. Kenton. Then, after reflection, she +added, "You are a strange girl, Ellen," and did not venture to say more. + +"I suppose I thought I should have to answer them, and that made me +careless. But I will read them." Her mother was silent, and presently +Ellen added: "I hate to think of the past. Don't you, momma?" + +"It is certainly very pleasant here," said Mrs. Kenton, cautiously. +"You're enjoying yourself--I mean, you seem to be getting so much +stronger." + +"Why, momma, why do you talk as if I had been sick?" Ellen asked. + +"I mean you're so much interested." + +"Don't I go about everywhere, like anybody?" Ellen pursued, ignoring her +explanation. + +"Yes, you certainly do. Mr. Breckon seems to like going about." + +Ellen did not respond to the suggestion except to say: "We go into all +sorts of places. This morning we went up on that schooner that's drawn +up on the beach, and the old man who was there was very pleasant. I +thought it was a wreck, but Mr. Breckon says they are always drawing +their ships that way up on the sand. The old man was patching some +of the wood-work, and he told Mr. Breckon--he can speak a little +Dutch--that they were going to drag her down to the water and go fishing +as soon as he was done. He seemed to think we were brother and sister." +She flushed a little, and then she said: "I believe I like the dunes as +well as anything. Sometimes when those curious cold breaths come in +from the sea we climb up in the little hollows on the other side and sit +there out of the draft. Everybody seems to do it." + +Apparently Ellen was submitting the propriety of the fact to her mother, +who said: "Yes, it seems to be quite the same as it is at home. I +always supposed that it was different with young people here. There is +certainly no harm in it." + +Ellen went on, irrelevantly. "I like to go and look at the Scheveningen +women mending the nets on the sand back of the dunes. They have such +good gossiping times. They shouted to us last evening, and then laughed +when they saw us watching them. When they got through their work they +got up and stamped off so strong, with their bare, red arms folded into +their aprons, and their skirts sticking out so stiff. Yes, I should like +to be like them." + +"You, Ellen!" + +"Yes; why not?" + +Mrs. Kenton found nothing better to answer than, + +"They were very material looking." + +"They are very happy looking. They live in the present. That is what +I should like: living in the present, and not looking backwards or +forwards. After all, the present is the only life we've got, isn't it?" + +"I suppose you may say it is," Mrs. Kenton admitted, not knowing just +where the talk was leading, but dreading to interrupt it. + +"But that isn't the Scheveningen woman's only ideal. Their other +ideal is to keep the place clean. Saturday afternoon they were all out +scrubbing the brick sidewalks, and clear into the middle of the street. +We were almost ashamed to walk over the nice bricks, and we picked out +as many dirty places as we could find." + +Ellen laughed, with a light-hearted gayety that was very strange to her, +and Mrs. Kenton, as she afterwards told her husband, did not know what +to think. + +"I couldn't help wondering," she said, "whether the poor child would +have liked to keep on living in the present a month ago." + +"Well, I'm glad you didn't say so," the judge answered. + + + + +XX. + +From the easy conquest of the men who looked at her Lottie proceeded to +the subjection of the women. It would have been more difficult to put +these down, if the process had not been so largely, so almost entirely +subjective. As it was, Lottie exchanged snubs with many ladies of the +continental nationalities who were never aware of having offered or +received offence. In some cases, when they fearlessly ventured to speak +with her, they behaved very amiable, and seemed to find her conduct +sufficiently gracious in return. In fact, she was approachable enough, +and had no shame, before Boyne, in dismounting from the high horse which +she rode when alone with him, and meeting these ladies on foot, at least +half-way. She made several of them acquainted with her mother, who, +after a timorous reticence, found them very conversable, with a range of +topics, however, that shocked her American sense of decorum. One +Dutch lady talked with such manly freedom, and with such untrammelled +intimacy, that she was obliged to send Boyne and Lottie about their +business, upon an excuse that was not apparent to the Dutch lady. She +only complimented Mrs. Kenton upon her children and their devotion +to each other, and when she learned that Ellen was also her daughter, +ventured the surmise she was not long married. + +"It isn't her husband," Mrs. Kenton explained, with inward trouble. +"It's just a gentleman that came over with us," and she went with her +trouble to her own husband as soon as she could. + +"I'm afraid it isn't the custom to go around alone with young men as +much as Ellen thinks," she suggested. + +"He ought to know," said the judge. "I don't suppose he would if it +wasn't." + +"That is true," Mrs. Kenton owned, and for the time she put her +misgivings away. + +"So long as we do nothing wrong," the judge decided, "I don't see why we +should not keep to our own customs." + +"Lottie says they're not ours, in New York." + +"Well, we are not in New York now." + +They had neither of them the heart to interfere with Ellen's happiness, +for, after all, Breckon was careful enough of the appearances, and it +was only his being constantly with Ellen that suggested the Dutch lady's +surmise. In fact, the range of their wanderings was not beyond the +dunes, though once they went a little way on one of the neatly bricked +country roads that led towards The Hague. As yet there had been no +movement in any of the party to see the places that lie within such easy +tram-reach of The Hague, and the hoarded interest of the past in +their keeping. Ellen chose to dwell in the actualities which were +an enlargement of her own present, and Lottie's active spirit found +employment enough in the amusements at the Kurhaus. She shopped in the +little bazars which make a Saratoga under the colonnades fronting two +sides of the great space before the hotel, and she formed a critical +and exacting taste in music from a constant attendance at the afternoon +concerts; it is true that during the winter in New York she had cast +forever behind her the unsophisticated ideals of Tuskingum in the art, +so that from the first she was able to hold the famous orchestra that +played in the Kurhaus concert-room up to the highest standard. She had +no use for anybody who had any use for rag-time, and she was terribly +severe with a young American, primarily of Boyne's acquaintance, who +tried to make favor with her by asking about the latest coon-songs. She +took the highest ethical ground with him about tickets in a charitable +lottery which he had bought from the portier, but could not move him on +the lower level which he occupied. He offered to give her the picture +which was the chief prize, in case he won it, and she assured him +beforehand that she should not take it. She warned Boyne against him, +under threats of exposure to their mother, as not a good influence, but +one afternoon, when the young Queen of Holland came to the concert with +the queen-mother, Lottie cast her prejudices to the winds in accepting +the places which the wicked fellow-countryman offered Boyne and herself, +when they had failed to get any where they could see the queens, as the +Dutch called them. + +The hotel was draped with flags, and banked with flowers about the +main entrance where the queens were to arrive, and the guests massed +themselves in a dense lane for them to pass through. Lottie could +not fail to be one of the foremost in this array, and she was able +to decide, when the queens had passed, that the younger would not be +considered a more than average pretty girl in America, and that she was +not very well dressed. They had all stood within five feet of her, and +Boyne had appropriated one of the prettiest of the pretty bends which +the gracious young creature made to right and left, and had responded to +it with an 'empressement' which he hoped had not been a sacrifice of his +republican principles. + +During the concert he sat with his eyes fixed upon the Queen where she +sat in the royal box, with her mother and her ladies behind her, and +wondered and blushed to wonder if she had noticed him when he bowed, or +if his chivalric devotion in applauding her when the audience rose to +receive her had been more apparent than that of others; whether it had +seemed the heroic act of setting forth at the head of her armies, to +beat back a German invasion, which it had essentially been, with his +instantaneous return as victor, and the Queen's abdication and adoption +of republican principles under conviction of his reasoning, and her +idolized consecration as the first chief of the Dutch republic. His +cheeks glowed, and he quaked at heart lest Lottie should surprise his +thoughts and expose them to that sarcastic acquaintance, who proved to +be a medical student resting at Scheveningen from the winter's courses +and clinics in, Vienna. He had already got on to many of Boyne's curves, +and had sacrilegiously suggested the Queen of Holland when he found him +feeding his fancy on the modern heroical romances; he advised him as an +American adventurer to compete with the European princes paying court +to her. So thin a barrier divided that malign intelligence from Boyne's +most secret dreams that he could never feel quite safe from him, and yet +he was always finding himself with him, now that he was separated from +Miss Rasmith, and Mr. Breckon was taken up so much with Ellen. On the +ship he could put many things before Mr. Breckon which must here perish +in his breast, or suffer the blight of this Mr. Trannel's raillery. The +student sat near the Kentons at table, and he was no more reverent of +the judge's modest convictions than of Boyne's fantastic preoccupations. +The worst of him was that you could not help liking him: he had a +fascination which the boy felt while he dreaded him, and now and then +he did something so pleasant that when he said something unpleasant you +could hardly believe it. + +At the end of the concert, when he rose and stood with all the rest, +while the royal party left their box, and the orchestra played the Dutch +national hymn, he said, in a loud whisper, to Boyne: "Now's your time, +my boy! Hurry out and hand her into her carriage!" + +Boyne fairly reeled at the words which translated a passage of the wild +drama playing itself in his brain, and found little support in +bidding his tormentor, "Shut up!" The retort, rude as it was, seemed +insufficient, but Boyne tried in vain to think of something else. +He tried to punish him by separating Lottie from him, but failed as +signally in that. She went off with him, and sat in a windstuhl facing +his the rest of the afternoon, with every effect of carrying on. + +Boyne was helpless, with his mother against it, when he appealed to her +to let him go and tell Lottie that she wanted her. Mrs. Kenton said that +she saw no harm in it, that Ellen was sitting in like manner with Mr. +Breckon. + +"Mr. Breckon is very different, and Ellen knows how to behave," +he urged, but his mother remained unmoved, or was too absent about +something to take any interest in the matter. In fact, she was again +unhappy about Ellen, though she put on such an air of being easy about +her. Clearly, so far as her maternal surmise could fathom the case, Mr. +Breckon was more and more interested in Ellen, and it was evident that +the child was interested in him. The situation was everything that was +acceptable to Mrs. Kenton, but she shuddered at the cloud which hung +over it, and which might any moment involve it. Again and again she had +made sure that Lottie had given Ellen no hint of Richard's ill-advised +vengeance upon Bittridge; but it was not a thing that could be kept +always, and the question was whether it could be kept till Ellen had +accepted Mr. Breckon and married him. This was beyond the question of +his asking her to do so, but it was so much more important that Mrs. +Kenton was giving it her attention first, quite out of the order of +time. Besides, she had every reason, as she felt, to count upon the +event. Unless he was trifling with Ellen, far more wickedly than +Bittridge, he was in love with her, and in Mrs. Kenton's simple +experience and philosophy of life, being in love was briefly preliminary +to marrying. If she went with her anxieties to her husband, she had +first to reduce him from a buoyant optimism concerning the affair before +she could get him to listen seriously. When this was accomplished he +fell into such despair that she ended in lifting him up and supporting +him with hopes that she did not feel herself. What they were both united +in was the conviction that nothing so good could happen in the world, +but they were equally united in the old American tradition that they +must not lift a finger to secure this supreme good for their child. + +It did not seem to them that leaving the young people constantly to +themselves was doing this. They interfered with Ellen now neither more +nor less than they had interfered with her as to Bittridge, or than +they would have interfered with her in the case of any one else. She was +still to be left entirely to herself in such matters, and Mrs. Kenton +would have kept even her thoughts off her if she could. She would have +been very glad to give her mind wholly to the study of the great events +which had long interested her here in their scene, but she felt that +until the conquest of Mr. Breckon was secured beyond the hazard of +Ellen's morbid defection at the supreme moment, she could not give her +mind to the history of the Dutch republic. + +"Don't bother me about Lottie, Boyne," she said. "I have enough to think +of without your nonsense. If this Mr. Trannel is an American, that +is all that is necessary. We are all Americans together, and I don't +believe it will make remark, Lottie's sitting on the beach with him." + +"I don't see how he's different from that Bittridge," said Boyne. "He +doesn't care for anything; and he plays the banjo just like him." + +Mrs. Kenton was too troubled to laugh. She said, with finality, "Lottie +can take care of herself," and then she asked, "Boyne, do you know whom +Ellen's letters were from?" + +"One was from Bessie Pearl--" + +"Yes, she showed me that. But you don't know who the other was from?" + +"No; she didn't tell me. You know how close Ellen is." + +"Yes," the mother sighed, "she is very odd." + +Then she added, "Don't you let her know that I asked you about her +letters." + +"No," said Boyne. His audience was apparently at an end, but he seemed +still to have something on his mind. "Momma," he began afresh. + +"Well?" she answered, a little impatiently. + +"Nothing. Only I got to thinking, Is a person able to control +their--their fancies?" + +"Fancies about what?" + +"Oh, I don't know. About falling in love." Boyne blushed. + +"Why do you want to know? You musn't think about such things, a boy like +you! It's a great pity that you ever knew anything about that Bittridge +business. It's made you too bold. But it seems to have been meant to +drag us down and humiliate us in every way." + +"Well, I didn't try to know anything about it," Boyne retorted. + +"No, that's true," his mother did him the justice to recognize. "Well, +what is it you want to know?" Boyne was too hurt to answer at once, and +his mother had to coax him a little. She did it sweetly, and apologized +to him for saying what she had said. After all, he was the youngest, +and her baby still. Her words and caresses took effect at last, and he +stammered out, "Is everybody so, or is it only the Kentons that seem +to be always putting--well, their affections--where it's perfectly +useless?" + +His mother pushed him from her. "Boyne, are you silly about that +ridiculous old Miss Rasmith?" + +"No!" Boyne shouted, savagely, "I'm NOT!" + +"Who is it, then?" + +"I sha'n't tell you!" Boyne said, and tears of rage and shame came into +his eyes. + + + + + +XXI. + +In his exile from his kindred, for it came practically to that, Boyne +was able to add a fine gloom to the state which he commonly observed +with himself when he was not giving way to his morbid fancies or his +morbid fears, and breaking down in helpless subjection to the nearest +member of his household. Lottie was so taken up with her student that +she scarcely quarrelled with him any more, and they had no longer those +moments of union in which they stood together against the world. His +mother had cast him off, as he felt, very heartlessly, though it was +really because she could not give his absurdities due thought in view of +the hopeful seriousness of Ellen's affair, and Boyne was aware that +his father at the best of times was ignorant of him when he was not +impatient of him. These were not the best of times with Judge Kenton, +and Boyne was not the first object of his impatience. In the last +analysis he was living until he could get home, and so largely in the +hope of this that his wife at times could scarcely keep him from taking +some step that would decide the matter between Ellen and Breckon at +once. They were tacitly agreed that they were waiting for nothing else, +and, without making their agreement explicit, she was able to quell him +by asking what he expected to do in case there was nothing between them? +Was he going to take the child back to Tuskingum, which was the same +as taking her back to Bittridge? it hurt her to confront him with this +question, and she tried other devices for staying and appeasing him. +She begged him now, seeing Boyne so forlorn, and hanging about the hotel +alone, or moping over those ridiculous books of his, to go off with the +boy somewhere and see the interesting places within such easy reach, +like Leyden and Delft if he cared nothing for the place where William +the Silent was shot, he ought to see the place that the Pilgrims started +from. She had counted upon doing those places herself, with her husband, +and it was in a sacrifice of her ideal that she now urged him to go +with Boyne. But her preoccupation with Ellen's affair forbade her +self-abandon to those high historical interests to which she urged his +devotion. She might have gone with him and Boyne, but then she must have +left the larger half of her divided mind with Ellen, not to speak of +Lottie, who refused to be a party to any such excursion. Mrs. Kenton +felt the disappointment and grieved at it, but not without hope of +repairing it later, and she did not cease from entreating the judge to +do what he could at once towards fulfilling the desires she postponed. +Once she prevailed with him, and really got him and Boyne off for a +day, but they came back early, with signs of having bored each other +intolerably, and after that it was Boyne, as much as his father, who +relucted from joint expeditions. Boyne did not so much object to going +alone, and his father said it was best to let him, though his mother +had her fears for her youngest. He spent a good deal of his time on the +trams between Scheveningen and The Hague, and he was understood to have +explored the capital pretty thoroughly. In fact, he did go about with a +valet de place, whom he got at a cheap rate, and with whom he conversed +upon the state of the country and its political affairs. The valet said +that the only enemy that Holland could fear was Germany, but an invasion +from that quarter could be easily repulsed by cutting the dikes and +drowning the invaders. The sea, he taught Boyne, was the great defence +of Holland, and it was a waste of money to keep such an army as the +Dutch had; but neither the sea nor the sword could drive out the Germans +if once they insidiously married a Prussian prince to the Dutch Queen. + +There seemed to be no getting away from the Queen, for Boyne. The valet +not only talked about her, as the pleasantest subject which he could +find, but he insisted upon showing Boyne all her palaces. He took +him into the Parliament house, and showed him where she sat while the +queen-mother read the address from the throne. He introduced him at a +bazar where the shop-girl who spoke English better than Boyne, or at +least without the central Ohio accent, wanted to sell him a miniature of +the Queen on porcelain. She said the Queen was such a nice girl, and she +was herself such a nice girl that Boyne blushed a little in looking at +her. He bought the miniature, and then he did not know what to do with +it; if any of the family, if Lottie, found out that he had it, or that +Trannel, he should have no peace any more. He put it in his pocket, +provisionally, and when he came giddily out of the shop he felt himself +taken by the elbow and placed against the wall by the valet, who said +the queens were coming. They drove down slowly through the crowded, +narrow street, bowing right and left to the people flattened against the +shops, and again Boyne saw her so near that he could have reached out +his hand and almost touched hers. + +The consciousness of this was so strong in him that he wondered whether +he had not tried to do so. If he had he would have been arrested--he +knew that; and so he knew that he had not done it. He knew that he +imagined doing so because it would be so awful to have done it, and he +imagined being in love with her because it would be so frantic. At +the same time he dramatized an event in which he died for her, and +she became aware of his hopeless passion at the last moment, while the +anarchist from whom he had saved her confessed that the bomb had been +meant for her. Perhaps it was a pistol. + +He escaped from the valet as soon as he could, and went back to +Scheveningen limp from this experience, but the queens were before +him. They had driven down to visit the studio of a famous Dutch painter +there, and again the doom was on Boyne to press forward with the +other spectators and wait for the queens to appear and get into their +carriage. The young Queen's looks were stamped in Boyne's consciousness, +so that he saw her wherever he turned, like the sun when one has gazed +at it. He thought how that Trannel had said he ought to hand her into +her carriage, and he shrank away for fear he should try to do so, but he +could not leave the place till she had come out with the queen--mother +and driven off. Then he went slowly and breathlessly into the hotel, +feeling the Queen's miniature in his pocket. It made his heart stand +still, and then bound forward. He wondered again what he should do with +it. If he kept it, Lottie would be sure to find it, and he could not +bring himself to the sacrilege of destroying it. He thought he would +walk out on the breakwater as far as he could and throw it into the sea, +but when he got to the end of the mole he could not do so. He decided +that he would give it to Ellen to keep for him, and not let Lottie see +it; or perhaps he might pretend he had bought it for her. He could not +do that, though, for it would not be true, and if he did he could not +ask her to keep it from Lottie. + +At dinner Mr. Trannel told him he ought to have been there to see the +Queen; that she had asked especially for him, and wanted to know if they +had not sent up her card to him. Boyne meditated an apt answer through +all the courses, but he had not thought of one when they had come to +the 'corbeille de fruits', and he was forced to go to bed without having +avenged himself. + +In taking rooms for her family at the hotel, Lottie had arranged for her +emancipation from the thraldom of rooming with Ellen. She said that had +gone on long enough; if she was grown up at all, she was grown up enough +to have a room of her own, and her mother had yielded to reasoning which +began and ended with this position. She would have interfered so far as +to put Lottie into the room next her, but Lottie said that if Boyne was +the baby he ought to be next his mother; Ellen might come next him, but +she was going to have the room that was furthest from any implication +of the dependence in which she had languished; and her mother submitted +again. Boyne was not sorry; there had always been hours of the night +when he felt the need of getting at his mother for reassurance as to +forebodings which his fancy conjured up to trouble him in the wakeful +dark. It was understood that he might freely do this, and though the +judge inwardly fretted, he could not deny the boy the comfort of his +mother's encouraging love. Boyne's visits woke him, but he slept the +better for indulging in the young nerves that tremor from impressions +against which the old nerves are proof. But now, in the strange fatality +which seemed to involve him, Boyne could not go to his mother. It was +too weirdly intimate, even for her; besides, when he had already tried +to seek her counsel she had ignorantly repelled him. + +The night after his day in The Hague, when he could bear it no longer, +he put on his dressing-gown and softly opened Ellen's door, "awake, +Ellen?" he whispered. + +"Yes, What is it, Boyne" her gentle voice asked. + +"He came and sat down by her bed and stole his hand into hers, which she +put out to him. The watery moonlight dripped into the room at the edges +of the shades, and the long wash of the sea made itself regularly heard +on the sands. + +"Can't you sleep?" Ellen asked again. "Are you homesick?" + +"Not exactly that. But it does seem rather strange for us to be off here +so far, doesn't it?" + +"Yes, I don't see how I can forgive myself for making you come," said +Ellen, but her voice did not sound as if she were very unhappy. + +"You couldn't help it," said Boyne, and the words suggested a question +to him. "Do you believe that such things are ordered, Ellen?" + +"Everything is ordered, isn't it?" + +"I suppose so. And if they are, we're not, to blame for what happens." + +"Not if we try to do right." + +"Of course. The Kentons always do that," said Boyne, with the faith in +his family that did not fail him in the darkest hour. "But what I mean +is that if anything comes on you that you can't foresee and you can't +get out of--" The next step was not clear, and Boyne paused. He asked, + +"Do you think that we can control our feelings, Ellen?" + +"About what?" + +"Well, about persons that we like." He added, for safety, "Or dislike." + +"I'm afraid not," said Ellen, sadly, "We ought to like persons and +dislike them for some good reason, but we don't." + +"Yes, that's what I mean," said Borne, with a long breath. "Sometimes it +seems like a kind of possession, doesn't it?" + +"It seems more like that when we like them," Ellen said. + +"Yes, that's what I mean. If a person was to take a fancy to some one +that was above him, that was richer, or older, he wouldn't be to blame +for it, would he?" + +"Was that what you wanted to ask me about?" + +Borne hesitated. "Yes" he said. He was in for it now. + +Ellen had not noticed Boyne's absorption with Miss Rasmith on the ship, +but she vaguely remembered hearing Lottie tease him about her, and she +said now, "He wouldn't be to blame for it if he couldn't help it, but if +the person was much older it would be a pity!" + +"Uh, she isn't so very much older," said Borne, more cheerfully than he +had spoken before. + +"Is it somebody that you have taken a fancy to Borne?" + +"I don't know, Ellen. That's what makes it so kind of awful. I can't +tell whether it's a real fancy, or I only think it is. Sometimes I think +it is, and sometimes I think that I think so because I am afraid to +believe it. Do you under Ellen?" + +"It seems to me that I do. But you oughtn't to let your fancy run away +with you, Boyne. What a queer boy!" + +"It's a kind of fascination, I suppose. But whether it's a real fancy or +an unreal one, I can't get away from it." + +"Poor boy!" said his sister. + +"Perhaps it's those books. Sometimes I think it is, and I laugh at the +whole idea; and then again it's so strong that I can't get away from it. +Ellen!" + +"Well, Boyne?" + +"I could tell you who it is, if you think that would do any good--if you +think it would help me to see it in the true light, or you could help me +more by knowing who it is than you can now." + +"I hope it isn't anybody that you can't respect, Boyne?" + +"No, indeed! It's somebody you would never dream of." + +"Well?" Ellen was waiting for him to speak, but he could not get the +words out, even to her. + +"I guess I'll tell you some other time. Maybe I can get over it myself." + +"It would be the best way if you could." + +He rose and left her bedside, and then he came back. "Ellen, I've got +something that I wish you would keep for me." + +"What is it? Of course I will." + +"Well, it's--something I don't want you to let Lottie know I've got. She +tells that Mr. Trannel everything, and then he wants to make fun. Do you +think he's so very witty?" + +"I can't help laughing at some things he says." + +"I suppose he is," Boyne ruefully admitted. "But that doesn't make you +like him any better. Well, if you won't tell Lottie, I'll give it to you +now." + +"I won't tell anything that you don't want me to, Boyne." + +"It's nothing. It's just-a picture of the Queen on porcelain, that I got +in The Hague. The guide took me into the store, and I thought I ought to +get something." + +"Oh, that's very nice, Boyne. I do like the Queen so much. She's so +sweet!" + +"Yes, isn't she?" said Boyne, glad of Ellen's approval. So far, at +least, he was not wrong. "Here it is now." + +He put the miniature in Ellen's hand. She lifted herself on her elbow. +"Light the candle and let me see it." + +"No, no!" he entreated. "It might wake Lottie, and--and--Good-night, +Ellen." + +"Can you go to sleep now, Boyne?" + +"Oh yes. I'm all right. Good-night." + +"Good-night, then." + +Borne stooped over and kissed her, and went to the door. He came back +and asked, "You don't think it was silly, or anything, for me to get +it?" + +"No, indeed! It's just what you will like to have when you get home. +We've all seen her so often. I'll put it in my trunk, and nobody shall +know about it till we're safely back in Tuskingum." + +Boyne sighed deeply. "Yes, that's what I meant. Good-night." + +"Good-night, Boyne." + +"I hope I haven't waked you up too much?" + +"Oh no. I can get to sleep easily again." + +"Well, good-night." Boyne sighed again, but not so deeply, and this time +he went out. + + + + +XXII. + +Mrs. Kenton woke with the clear vision which is sometimes vouchsafed to +people whose eyes are holden at other hours of the day. She had heard +Boyne opening and shutting Ellen's door, and her heart smote her that +he should have gone to his sister with whatever trouble he was in rather +than come to his mother. It was natural that she should put the blame +on her husband, and "Now, Mr. Kenton," she began, with an austerity of +voice which he recognized before he was well awake, "if you won't take +Boyne off somewhere to-day, I will. I think we had better all go. We +have been here a whole fortnight, and we have got thoroughly rested, and +there is no excuse for our wasting our time any longer. If we are going +to see Holland, we had better begin doing it." + +The judge gave a general assent, and said that if she wanted to go +to Flushing he supposed he could find some garden-seeds there, in the +flower and vegetable nurseries, which would be adapted to the climate of +Tuskingum, and they could all put in the day pleasantly, looking round +the place. Whether it was the suggestion of Tuskingum in relation to +Flushing that decided her against the place, or whether she had really +meant to go to Leyden, she now expressed the wish, as vividly as if it +were novel, to explore the scene of the Pilgrims' sojourn before they +sailed for Plymouth, and she reproached him for not caring about the +place when they both used to take such an interest in it at home. + +"Well," said the judge, "if I were at home I should take an interest in +it here." + +This provoked her to a silence which he thought it best to break in +tacit compliance with her wish, and he asked, "Do you propose taking the +whole family and the appurtenances? We shall be rather a large party." + +"Ellen would wish to go, and I suppose Mr. Breckon. We couldn't very +well go without them." + +"And how about Lottie and that young Trannel?" + +"We can't leave him out, very well. I wish we could. I don't like him." + +"There's nothing easier than not asking him, if you don't want him." + +"Yes, there is, when you've got a girl like Lottie to deal with. Quite +likely she would ask him herself. We must take him because we can't +leave her." + +"Yes, I reckon," the judge acquiesced. + +"I'm glad," Mrs. Kenton said, after a moment, "that it isn't Ellen he's +after; it almost reconciles me to his being with Lottie so much. I only +wonder he doesn't take to Ellen, he's so much like that--" + +She did not say out what was in her mind, but her husband knew. "Yes, +I've noticed it. This young Breckon was quite enough so, for my taste. I +don't know what it is that just saves him from it." + +"He's good. You could tell that from the beginning." + +They went off upon the situation that, superficially or subliminally, +was always interesting them beyond anything in the world, and they did +not openly recur to Mrs. Kenton's plan for the day till they met their +children at breakfast. It was a meal at which Breckon and Trammel were +both apt to join them, where they took it at two of the tables on the +broad, seaward piazza of the hotel when the weather was fine. Both +the young men now applauded her plan, in their different sorts. It was +easily arranged that they should go by train and not by tram from The +Hague. The train was chosen, and Mrs. Kenton, when she went to her +room to begin the preparations for a day's pleasure which constitute so +distinctly a part of its pain, imagined that everything was settled. She +had scarcely closed the door behind her when Lottie opened it and shut +it again behind her. + +"Mother," she said, in the new style of address to which she was +habituating Mrs. Kenton, after having so long called her momma, "I am +not going with you." + +"Indeed you are, then!" her mother retorted. "Do you think I would leave +you here all day with that fellow? A nice talk we should make!" + +"You are perfectly welcome to that fellow, mother, and as he's accepted +he will have to go with you, and there won't be any talk. But, as I +remarked before, I am not going." + +"Why aren't you going, I should like to know?" + +"Because I don't like the company." + +"What do you mean? Have you got anything against Mr. Breckon?" + +"He's insipid, but as long as Ellen don't mind it I don't care. I object +to Mr. Trannel!" + +"Why?" + +"I don't see why I should have to tell you. If I said I liked him you +might want to know, but it seems to me that my not liking him is--my +not liking him is my own affair." There was a kind of logic in this that +silenced Mrs. Kenton for the moment. In view of her advantage Lottie +relented so far as to add, "I've found out something about him." + +Mrs. Kenton was imperative in her alarm. "What is it?" she demanded. + +Lottie answered, obliquely: "Well, I didn't leave The Hague to get rid +of them, and then take up with one of them at Scheveningen." + +"One of what?" + +"COOK'S TOURISTS, if you must know, mother. Mr. Trannel, as you call +him, is a Cook's tourist, and that's the end of it. I have got no use +for him from this out." + +Mrs. Kenton was daunted, and not for the first time, by her daughter's +superior knowledge of life. She could put Boyne down sometimes, though +not always, when he attempted to impose a novel code of manners or +morals upon her, but she could not cope with Lottie. In the present case +she could only ask, "Well?" + +"Well, they're the cheapest of the cheap. He actually showed me his +coupons, and tried to put me down with the idea that everybody used +them. But I guess he found it wouldn't work. He said if you were not +personally conducted it was all right." + +"Now, Lottie, you have got to tell me just what you mean," said Mrs. +Kenton, and from having stood during this parley, she sat down to hear +Lottie out at her leisure. But if there was anything more difficult than +for Lottie to be explicit it was to make her be so, and in the end +Mrs. Kenton was scarcely wiser than she was at the beginning to her +daughter's reasons. It appeared that if you wanted to be cheap you could +travel with those coupons, and Lottie did not wish to be cheap, or have +anything to do with those who were. The Kentons had always held up their +heads, and if Ellen had chosen to disgrace them with Bittridge, Dick had +made it all right, and she at least was not going to do anything that +she would be ashamed of. She was going to stay at home, and have her +meals in her room till they got back. + +Her mother paid no heed to her repeated declaration. "Lottie," she +asked, with the heart-quake that the thought of Richard's act always +gave her with reference to Ellen, "have you ever let out the least hint +of that?" + +"Of course I haven't," Lottie scornfully retorted. "I hope I know what a +crank Ellen is." + +They were not just the terms in which Mrs. Kenton would have chosen to +be reassured, but she was glad to be assured in any terms. She said, +vaguely: "I believe in my heart that I will stay at home, too. All this +has given me a bad headache." + +"I was going to have a headache myself," said Lottie, with injury. "But +I suppose I can get on along without. I can just simply say I'm not +going. If he proposes to stay, too, I can soon settle that." + +"The great difficulty will be to get your father to go." + +"You can make Ellen make him," Lottie suggested. + +"That is true," said Mrs. Kenton, with such increasing absence that her +daughter required of her: + +"Are you staying on my account?" + +"I think you had better not be left alone the whole day. But I am not +staying on your account. I don't believe we had so many of us better go. +It might look a little pointed." + +Lottie laughed harshly. "I guess Mr. Breckon wouldn't see the point, +he's so perfectly gone." + +"Do you really believe it, Lottie?" Mrs. Kenton entreated, with a sudden +tenderness for her younger daughter such as she did not always feel. + +"I should think anybody would believe it--anybody but Ellen." + +"Yes," Mrs. Kenton dreamily assented. + +Lottie made her way to the door. "Well, if you do stay, mother, I'm not +going to have you hanging round me all day. I can chaperon myself." + +"Lottie," her mother tried to stay her, "I wish you would go. I don't +believe that Mr. Trannel will be much of an addition. He will be on your +poor father's hands all day, or else Ellen's, and if you went you could +help off." + +"Thank you, mother. I've had quite all I want of Mr. Trannel. You can +tell him he needn't go, if you want to." + +Lottie at least did not leave her mother to make her excuses to the +party when they met for starting. Mrs. Kenton had deferred her own +till she thought it was too late for her husband to retreat, and then +bunglingly made them, with so much iteration that it seemed to her it +would have been far less pointed, as concerned Mr. Breckon, if she +had gone. Lottie sunnily announced that she was going to stay with +her mother, and did not even try to account for her defection to Mr. +Trannel. + +"What's the matter with my staying, too?" he asked. "It seems to me +there are four wheels to this coach now." + +He had addressed his misgiving more to Lottie than the rest; but with +the same sunny indifference to the consequence for others that she had +put on in stating her decision, she now discharged herself from further +responsibility by turning on her heel and leaving it with the party +generally. In the circumstances Mr. Trannel had no choice but to go, and +he was supported, possibly, by the hope of taking it out of Lottie some +other time. + +It was more difficult for Mrs. Kenton to get rid of the judge, but an +inscrutable frown goes far in such exigencies. It seems to explain, and +it certainly warns, and the husband on whom it is bent never knows, even +after the longest experience, whether he had better inquire further. +Usually he decides that he had better not, and Judge Kenton went off +towards the tram with Boyne in the cloud of mystery which involved them +both as to Mrs. Kenton's meaning. + + + + +XXIII. + + +Trannel attached himself as well as he could to Breckon and Ellen, +and Breckon had an opportunity not fully offered him before to note +a likeness between himself and a fellow-man whom he was aware of not +liking, though he tried to love him, as he felt it right to love all +men. He thought he had not been quite sympathetic enough with Mrs. +Kenton in her having to stay behind, and he tried to make it up to Mr. +Trannel in his having to come. He invented civilities to show him, and +ceded his place next Ellen as if Trannel had a right to it. Trannel +ignored him in keeping it, unless it was recognizing Breckon to say, +"Oh, I hope I'm not in your way, old fellow?" and then making jokes to +Ellen. Breckon could not say the jokes were bad, though the taste +of them seemed to him so. The man had a fleeting wit, which scorched +whatever he turned it upon, and yet it was wit. "Why don't you try him +in American?" he asked at the failure of Breckon and the tram conductor +to understand each other in Dutch. He tried the conductor himself in +American, and he was so deplorably funny that it was hard for Breckon to +help being 'particeps criminus', at least in a laugh. + +He asked himself if that were really the kind of man he was, and he grew +silent and melancholy in the fear that it was a good deal the sort of +man. To this morbid fancy Trannel seemed himself in a sort of excess, or +what he would be if he were logically ultimated. He remembered all the +triviality of his behavior with Ellen at first, and rather sickened at +the thought of some of his early pleasantries. She was talking gayly +now with Trannel, and Breckon wondered whether she was falling under the +charm that he felt in him, in spite of himself. + +If she was, her father was not. The judge sat on the other side of the +car, and unmistakably glowered at the fellow's attempts to make himself +amusing to Ellen. Trannel himself was not insensible to the judge's +mood. Now and then he said something to intensify it. He patronized the +judge and he made fun of the tourist character in which Boyne had got +himself up, with a field-glass slung by a strap under one arm and a +red Baedeker in his hand. He sputtered with malign laughter at a rather +gorgeous necktie which Boyne had put on for the day, and said it was not +a very good match for the Baedeker. + +Boyne retorted rudely, and that amused Trannel still more. He became +personal to Breckon, and noted the unclerical cut of his clothes. He +said he ought to have put on his uniform for an expedition like that, +in case they got into any sort of trouble. To Ellen alone he was +inoffensive, unless he overdid his polite attentions to her in carrying +her parasol for her, and helping her out of the tram, when they arrived, +shouldering every one else away, and making haste to separate her from +the others and then to walk on with her a little in advance. + +Suddenly he dropped her, and fell back to Boyne and his father, while +Breckon hastened forward to her side. Trannel put his arm across Boyne's +shoulders and asked him if he were mad, and then laughed at him. "You're +all right, Boyne, but you oughtn't to be so approachable. You ought to +put on more dignity, and repel familiarity!" + +Boyne could only twitch away in silence that he made as haughty as he +could, but not so haughty that Trannel did not find it laughable, and he +laughed in a teasing way that made Breckon more and more serious. He +was aware of becoming even solemn with the question of his likeness to +Trannel. He was of Trannel's quality, and their difference was a matter +of quantity, and there was not enough difference. In his sense of their +likeness Breckon vowed himself to a gravity of behavior evermore +which he should not probably be able to observe, but the sample he now +displayed did not escape the keen vigilance of Trannel. + +"With the exception of Miss Kenton," he addressed himself to the party, +"you're all so easy and careless that if you don't look out you'll lose +me. Miss Kenton, I wish you would keep an eye on me. I don't want to get +lost." + +Ellen laughed--she could not help it--and her laughing made it less +possible than before for Breckon to unbend and meet Trannel on his own +ground, to give him joke for joke, to exchange banter with him. He might +never have been willing to do that, but now he shrank from it, in his +realization of their likeness, with an abhorrence that rendered him +rigid. + +The judge was walking ahead with Boyne, and his back expressed such +severe disapproval that, between her fear that Trannel would say +something to bring her father's condemnation on him and her sense of +their inhospitable attitude towards one who was their guest, in a sort, +she said, with her gentle gayety, "Then you must keep near me, Mr. +Trannel. I'll see that nothing happens." + +"That's very sweet of you," said Trannel, soberly. Whether he had now +vented his malicious humor and was ready to make himself agreeable, or +was somewhat quelled by the unfriendly ambient he had created, or was +wrought upon by her friendliness, he became everything that could be +wished in a companion for a day's pleasure. He took the lead at the +station, and got them a compartment in the car to themselves for the +little run to Leyden, and on the way he talked very well. He politely +borrowed Boyne's Baedeker, and decided for the party what they had +best see, and showed an acceptable intelligence, as well as a large +experience in the claims of Leyden upon the visitor's interest. He had +been there often before, it seemed, and in the event it appeared that he +had chosen the days sightseeing wisely. + +He no longer addressed himself respectfully to Ellen alone, but he +re-established himself in Boyne's confidence with especial pains, and he +conciliated Breckon by a recognition of his priority with Ellen with a +delicacy refined enough for even the susceptibility of a lover alarmed +for his rights. If he could not overcome the reluctance of the judge, he +brought him to the civil response which any one who tried for Kenton's +liking achieved, even if he did not merit it, and there remained no more +reserve in Kenton's manner than there had been with the young man from +the first. He had never been a persona grata to the judge, and if he did +not become so now, he at least ceased to be actively displeasing. + +That was the year before the young Queen came to her own, and in the +last days of her minority she was visiting all the cities of her future +dominion with the queen-mother. When Kenton's party left the station +they found Leyden as gay for her reception as flags and banners could +make the gray old town, and Trannel relapsed for a moment so far as to +suggest that the decorations were in honor of Boyne's presence, but he +did not abuse the laugh that this made to Boyne's further shame. + +There was no carriage at the station which would hold the party of five, +and they had to take two vehicles. Trannel said it was lucky they wanted +two, since there were no more, and he put himself in authority to assort +the party. The judge, he decided, must go with Ellen and Breckon, and he +hoped Boyne would let him go in his carriage, if he would sit on the box +with the driver. The judge afterwards owned that he had weakly indulged +his dislike of the fellow, in letting him take Boyne, and not insisting +on going himself with Tramiel, but this was when it was long too +late. Ellen had her misgivings, but, except for that gibe about the +decorations, Trannel had been behaving so well that she hoped she might +trust Boyne with him. She made a kind of appeal for her brother, bidding +him and Trannel take good care of each other, and Trannel promised so +earnestly to look after Boyne that she ought to have been alarmed for +him. He took the lead, rising at times to wave a reassuring hand to her +over the back of his carriage, and, in fact, nothing evil could very +well happen from him, with the others following so close upon him. They +met from time to time in the churches they visited, and when they lost +sight of one another, through a difference of opinion in the drivers as +to the best route, they came together at the place Trannel had appointed +for their next reunion. + +He showed himself a guide so admirably qualified that he found a way +for them to objects of interest that had at first denied themselves in +anticipation of the visit from the queens; when they all sat down at +lunch in the restaurant which he found for them, he could justifiably +boast that he would get them into the Town Hall, which they had been +told was barred for the day against anything but sovereign curiosity. +He was now on the best term with Boyne, who seemed to have lost all +diffidence of him, and treated him with an easy familiarity that showed +itself in his slapping him on the shoulder and making dints in his hat. +Trannel seemed to enjoy these caresses, and, when they parted again for +the afternoon's sight-seeing, Ellen had no longer a qualm in letting +Boyne drive off with him. + +He had, in fact, known how to make himself very acceptable to Boyne. He +knew all the originals of his heroical romances, and was able to give +the real names and the geographical position of those princesses who +had been in love with American adventurers. Under promise of secrecy he +disclosed the real names of the adventurers themselves, now obscured in +the titles given them to render them worthy their union with sovereigns. +He resumed his fascinating confidences when they drove off after +luncheon, and he resumed them after each separation from the rest of the +party. Boyne listened with a flushed face and starting eyes, and when at +last Trannel offered, upon a pledge of the most sacred nature from him +never to reveal a word of what he said, he began to relate an adventure +of which he was himself the hero. It was a bold travesty of one of the +latest romances that Boyne had read, involving the experience of an +American very little older than Boyne himself, to whom a wilful young +crown-princess, in a little state which Trannel would not name even to +Boyne, had made advances such as he could not refuse to meet without +cruelty. He was himself deeply in love with her, but he felt bound in +honor not to encourage her infatuation as long as he could help, for he +had been received by her whole family with such kindness and confidence +that he had to consider them. + +"Oh, pshaw!" Boyne broke in upon him, doubting, and yet wishing not to +doubt, "that's the same as the story of 'Hector Folleyne'." + +"Yes," said Trannel, quietly. "I thought you would recognize it." + +"Well, but," Boyne went on, "Hector married the princess!" + +"In the book, yes. The fellow I gave the story to said it would never +do not to have him marry her, and it would help to disguise the fact. +That's what he said, after he had given the whole thing away." + +"And do you mean to say it was you? Oh, you can't stuff me! How did you +get out of marrying her, I should like to know, when the chancellor came +to you and said that the whole family wanted you to, for fear it would +kill her if--" + +"Well, there was a scene, I can't deny that. We had a regular family +conclave--father, mother, Aunt Hitty, and all the folks--and we kept it +up pretty much all night. The princess wasn't there, of course, and I +could convince them that I was right. If she had been, I don't believe +I could have held out. But they had to listen to reason, and I got away +between two days." + +"But why didn't you marry her?" + +"Well, for one thing, as I told you, I thought I ought to consider +her family. Then there was a good fellow, the crown-prince of +Saxe-Wolfenhutten, who was dead in love with her, and was engaged to her +before I turned up. I had been at school with him, and I felt awfully +sorry for him; and I thought I ought to sacrifice myself a little to +him. But I suppose the thing that influenced me most was finding out +that if I married the princess I should have to give up my American +citizenship and become her subject." + +"Well?" Boyne panted. + +"Well, would you have done it?" + +"Couldn't you have got along without doing that?" + +"That was the only thing I couldn't get around, somehow. So I left." + +"And the princess, did she--die?" + +"It takes a good deal more than that to kill a fifteen-year-old +princess," said Trannel, and he gave a harsh laugh. "She married +Saxe-Wolfenhutten." Boyne was silent. "Now, I don't want you to speak +of this till after I leave Scheveningen--especially to Miss Lottie. You +know how girls are, and I think Miss Lottie is waiting to get a bind +on me, anyway. If she heard how I was cut out of my chance with that +princess she'd never let me believe I gave her up of my own free will?" + +"NO, no; I won't tell her." + +Boyne remained in a silent rapture, and he did not notice they were no +longer following the rest of their party in the other carriage. This had +turned down a corner, at which Mr. Breckon, sitting on the front seat, +had risen and beckoned their driver to follow, but their driver, who +appeared afterwards to have not too much a head of his own, or no head +at all, had continued straight on, in the rear of a tram-car, which was +slowly finding its way through the momently thickening crowd. Boyne was +first aware that it was a humorous crowd when, at a turn of the street, +their equipage was greeted with ironical cheers by a group of gay young +Dutchmen on the sidewalk. Then he saw that the sidewalks were packed +with people, who spread into the street almost to the tram, and that the +house fronts were dotted with smiling Dutch faces, the faces of pretty +Dutch girls, who seemed to share the amusement of the young fellows +below. + +Trannel lay back in the carriage. "This is something like," he said. +"Boyne, they're on to the distinguished young Ohioan--the only Ohioan +out of office in Europe." + +"Yes," said Boyne, trying to enjoy it. "I wonder what they are holloing +at." + +Trannel laughed. "They're holloing at your Baedeker, my dear boy. They +never saw one before," and Boyne was aware that he was holding his +red-backed guide conspicuously in view on his lap. "They know you're a +foreigner by it." + +"Don't you think we ought to turn down somewhere? I don't see poppa +anywhere." He rose and looked anxiously back over the top of their +carriage. The crowd, closing in behind it, hailed his troubled face with +cries that were taken up by the throng on the sidewalks. Boyne turned +about to find that the tram-car which they had been following had +disappeared round a corner, but their driver was still keeping on. At +a wilder burst of applause Trannel took off his hat and bowed to the +crowd, right and left. + +"Bow, bow!" he said to Boyne. "They'll be calling for a speech the next +thing. Bow, I tell you!" + +"Tell him to turn round!" cried the boy. + +"I can't speak Dutch," said Trannel, and Boyne leaned forward and poked +the driver in the back. + +"Go back!" he commanded. + +The driver shook his head and pointed forward with his whip. "He's all +right," said Trannel. "He can't turn now. We've got to take the next +corner." The street in front was empty, and the people were crowding +back on the sidewalks. Loud, vague noises made themselves heard round +the corner to which the driver had pointed. "By Jove!" Trannel said, "I +believe they're coming round that way." + +"Who are coming?" Boyne palpitated. + +"The queens." + +"The queens?" Boyne gasped; it seemed to him that he shrieked the words. + +"Yes. And there's a tobacconist's now," said Trannel, as if that were +what he had been looking for all along. "I want some cigarettes." + +He leaped lightly from the carriage, and pushed his way out of sight on +the sidewalk. Boyne remained alone in the vehicle, staring wildly round; +the driver kept slowly and stupidly on, Boyne did not know how much +farther. He could not speak; he felt as if he could not stir. But the +moment came when he could not be still. He gave a galvanic jump to the +ground, and the friendly crowd on the sidewalk welcomed him to its ranks +and closed about him. The driver had taken the lefthand corner, just +before a plain carriage with the Queen and the queen-mother came in +sight round the right. The young Queen was bowing to the people, gently, +and with a sort of mechanical regularity. Now and then a brighter +smile than that she conventionally wore lighted up her face. The simple +progress was absolutely without state, except for the aide-de-camp on +horseback who rode beside the carriage, a little to the front. + +Boyne stood motionless on the curb, where a friendly tall Dutchman had +placed him in front that he might see the Queen. + +"Hello!" said the voice of Trannel, and elbowing his way to Boyne's +side, he laughed and coughed through the smoke of his cigarette. "I was +afraid you had lost me. Where's your carriage?" + +Boyne did not notice his mockeries. He was entranced in that beatific +vision; his boy-heart went out in worship to the pretty young creature +with a reverence that could not be uttered. The tears came into his +eyes. + +"There, there! She's bowing to you, Boyne, she's smiling right at you. +By Jove! She's beckoning to you!" + +"You be still!" Boyne retorted, finding his tongue. "She isn't doing any +such a thing." + +"She is, I swear she is! She's doing it again! She's stopping the +carriage. Oh, go out and see what she wants! Don't you know that a +queen's wish is a command? You've got to go!" + +Boyne never could tell just how it happened. The carriage did seem to be +stopping, and the Queen seemed to be looking at him. He thought he +must, and he started into the street towards her, and the carriage came +abreast of him. He had almost reached the carriage when the aide turned +and spurred his horse before him. Four strong hands that were like iron +clamps were laid one on each of Boyne's elbows and shoulders, and he was +haled away, as if by superhuman force. "Mr. Trannel!" he called out in +his agony, but the wretch had disappeared, and Boyne was left with his +captors, to whom he could have said nothing if he could have thought of +anything to say. + +The detectives pulled him through the crowd and hurried him swiftly down +the side street. A little curiosity straggled after him in the shape +of small Dutch boys, too short to look over the shoulders of men at the +queens, and too weak to make their way through them to the front; but +for them, Boyne seemed alone in the world with the relentless officers, +who were dragging him forward and hurting him so with the grip of their +iron hands. He lifted up his face to entreat them not to hold him so +tight, and suddenly it was as if he beheld an angel standing in his +path. It was Breckon who was there, staring at him aghast. + +"Why, Boyne!" he cried. + +"Oh, Mr. Breckon!" Boyne wailed back. "Is it you? Oh, do tell them I +didn't mean to do anything! I thought she beckoned to me." + +"Who? Who beckoned to you?" + +"The Queen!" Boyne sobbed, while the detectives pulled him relentlessly +on. + +Breckon addressed them suavely in their owe tongue which had never come +in more deferential politeness from human lips. He ventured the belief +that there was a mistake; he assured them that he knew their prisoner, +and that he was the son of a most respectable American family, whom they +could find at the Kurhaus in Scheveningen. He added some irrelevancies, +and got for all answer that they had made Boyne's arrest for sufficient +reasons, and were taking him to prison. If his friends wished to +intervene in his behalf they could do so before the magistrate, but for +the present they must admonish Mr. Breckon not to put himself in the way +of the law. + +"Don't go, Mr. Breckon!" Boyne implored him, as his captors made him +quicken his pace after slowing a little for their colloquy with Breckon. +"Oh, where is poppa? He could get me away. Oh, where is poppa?" + +"Don't! Don't call out, Boyne," Breckon entreated. "Your father is right +here at the end of the street. He's in the carriage there with Miss +Kenton. I was coming to look for you. Don't cry out so!" + +"No, no, I won't, Mr. Breckon. I'll be perfectly quiet now. Only do get +poppa quick! He can tell them in a minute that it's all right!" + +He made a prodigious effort to control himself, while Breckon ran +a little ahead, with some wild notion of preparing Ellen. As he +disappeared at the corner, Boyne choked a sob into a muffed bellow, and +was able to meet the astonished eyes of his father and sister in this +degree of triumph. + +They had not in the least understood Breckon's explanation, and, in +fact, it had not been very lucid. At sight of her brother strenuously +upheld between the detectives, and dragged along the sidewalk, Ellen +sprang from the carriage and ran towards him. "Why, what's the matter +with Boyne?" she demanded. "Are you hurt, Boyne, dear? Are they taking +him to the hospital?" + +Before he could answer, and quite before the judge could reach the +tragical group, she had flung her arms round Boyne's neck, and was +kissing his tear-drabbled face, while he lamented back, "They're taking +me to prison." + +"Taking you to prison? I should like to know what for! What are you +taking my brother to prison for?" she challenged the detectives, who +paused, bewildered, while all the little Dutch boys round admired this +obstruction of the law, and several Dutch housewives, too old to go +out to see the queens, looked down from their windows. It was wholly +illegal, but the detectives were human. They could snub such a friend of +their prisoner as Breckon, but they could not meet the dovelike ferocity +of Ellen with unkindness. They explained as well as they might, and at a +suggestion which Kenton made through Breckon, they admitted that it was +not beside their duty to take Boyne directly to a magistrate, who could +pass upon his case, and even release him upon proper evidence of his +harmlessness, and sufficient security for any demand that justice might +make for his future appearance. + +"Then," said the judge, quietly, "tell them that we will go with them. +It will be all right, Boyne. Ellen, you and I will get back into the +carriage, and--" + +"No!" Boyne roared. "Don't leave me, Nelly!" + +"Indeed, I won't leave you, Boyne! Mr. Breckon, you get into the +carriage with poppa, and I--" + +"I think I had better go with you, Miss Kenton," said Breckon, and in a +tender superfluity they both accompanied Boyne on foot, while the judge +remounted to his place in the carriage and kept abreast of them on their +way to the magistrate's. + + + + +XXIV. + +The magistrate conceived of Boyne's case with a readiness that gave the +judge a high opinion of his personal and national intelligence. He even +smiled a little, in accepting the explanation which Breckon was able to +make him from Boyne, but he thought his duty to give the boy a fatherly +warning for the future. He remarked to Breckon that it was well for +Boyne that the affair had not happened in Germany, where it would have +been found a much more serious matter, though, indeed, he added, it +had to be seriously regarded anywhere in these times, when the lives +of sovereigns were so much at the mercy of all sorts of madmen and +miscreants. He relaxed a little from his severity in his admonition to +say directly to Boyne that queens, even when they wished to speak with +people, did not beckon them in the public streets. When this speech +translated to Boyne by Breckon, whom the magistrate complimented on the +perfection of his Dutch, Boyne hung his head sheepishly, and could not +be restored to his characteristic dignity again in the magistrate's +presence. The judge gratefully shook hands with the friendly justice, +and made him a little speech of thanks, which Breckon interpreted, and +then the justice shook hand with the judge, and gracefully accepted the +introduction which he offered him to Ellen. They parted with reciprocal +praises and obeisances, which included even the detectives. The judge +had some question, which he submitted to Breckon, whether he ought not +to offer them something, but Breckon thought not. + +Breckon found it hard to abdicate the sort of authority in which his +knowledge of Dutch had placed him, and when he protested that he had +done nothing but act as interpreter, Ellen said, "Yes, but we couldn't +have done anything without you," and this was the view that Mrs. Kenton +took of the matter in the family conclave which took place later in the +evening. Breckon was not allowed to withdraw from it, in spite of many +modest efforts, before she had bashfully expressed her sense of his +service to him, and made Boyne share her thanksgiving. She had her arm +about the boy's shoulder in giving Breckon her hand, and when Breckon +had got away she pulled Boyne to her in a more peremptory embrace. + +"Now, Boyne," she said, "I am not going to have any more nonsense. I +want to know why you did it." + +The judge and Ellen had already conjectured clearly enough, and Boyne +did not fear them. But he looked at his younger sister as he sulkily +answered, "I am not going to tell you before Lottie." + +"Come in here, then," said his mother, and she led him into the next +room and closed the door. She quickly returned without him. "Yes," she +began, "it's just as I supposed; it was that worthless fellow who +put him up to it. Of course, it began with those fool books he's been +reading, and the notions that Miss Rasmith put into his head. But he +never would have done anything if it hadn't been for Mr. Trannel." + +Lottie had listened in silent scorn to the whole proceedings up to this +point, and had refused a part in the general recognition of Breckon as +a special providence. Now she flashed out with a terrible volubility: +"What did I tell you? What else could you expect of a Cook's tourist? +And mom--mother wanted to make me go with you, after I told her what +he was! Well, if I had have gone, I'll bet I could have kept him from +playing his tricks. I'll bet he wouldn't have taken any liberties, +with me along. I'll bet if he had, it wouldn't have been Boyne that +got arrested. I'll bet he wouldn't have got off so easily with the +magistrate, either! But I suppose you'll all let him come bowing and +smiling round in the morning, like butter wouldn't melt in your mouths. +That seems to be the Kenton way. Anybody can pull our noses, or get us +arrested that wants to, and we never squeak." She went on a long time +to this purpose, Mrs. Kenton listening with an air almost of conviction, +and Ellen patiently bearing it as a right that Lottie had in a matter +where she had been otherwise ignored. + +The judge broke out, not upon Lottie, but upon his wife. "Good heavens, +Sarah, can't you make the child hush?" + +Lottie answered for her mother, with a crash of nerves and a gush of +furious tears: "Oh, I've got to hush, I suppose. It's always the way +when I'm trying to keep up the dignity of the family. I suppose it will +be cabled to America, and by tomorrow it will be all over Tuskingum how +Boyne was made a fool of and got arrested. But I bet there's one person +in Tuskingum that won't have any remarks to make, and that's Bittridge. +Not, as long as Dick's there he won't." + +"Lottie!" cried her mother, and her father started towards her, while +Ellen still sat patiently quiet. + +"Oh, well!" Lottie submitted. "But if Dick was here I know this Trannel +wouldn't get off so smoothly. Dick would give him a worse cowhiding than +he did Bittridge." + +Half the last word was lost in the bang of the door which Lottie slammed +behind her, leaving her father and mother to a silence which Ellen did +not offer to break. The judge had no heart to speak, in his dismay, and +it was Mrs. Kenton who took the word. + +"Ellen," she began, with compassionate gentleness, "we tried to keep it +from you. We knew how you would feel. But now we have got to tell you. +Dick did cowhide him when he got back to Tuskingum. Lottie wrote out to +Dick about it, how Mr. Bittridge had behaved in New York. Your father +and I didn't approve of it, and Dick didn't afterwards; but, yes, he did +do it." + +"I knew it, momma," said Ellen, sadly. + +"You knew it! How?" + +"That other letter I got when we first came--it was from his mother." + +"Did she tell--" + +"Yes. It was terrible she seemed to feel so. And I was sorry for her. I +thought I ought to answer it, and I did. I told her I was sorry, too. +I tried not to blame Richard. I don't believe I did. And I tried not to +blame him. She was feeling badly enough without that." + +Her father and mother looked at each other; they did not speak, and she +asked, "Do you think I oughtn't to have written?" + +Her father answered, a little tremulously: "You did right, Ellen. And I +am sure that you did it in just the right way." + +"I tried to. I thought I wouldn't worry you about it." + +She rose, and now her mother thought she was going to say that it put +an end to everything; that she must go back and offer herself as a +sacrifice to the injured Bittridges. Her mind had reverted to that +moment on the steamer when Ellen told her that nothing had reconciled +her to what had happened with Bittridge but the fact that all the wrong +done had been done to themselves; that this freed her. In her despair +she could not forbear asking, "What did you write to her, Ellen?" + +"Nothing. I just said that I was very sorry, and that I knew how she +felt. I don't remember exactly." + +She went up and kissed her mother. She seemed rather fatigued than +distressed, and her father asked her. "Are you going to bed, my dear?" + +"Yes, I'm pretty tired, and I should think you would be, too, poppa. +I'll speak to poor Boyne. Don't mind Lottie. I suppose she couldn't +help saying it." She kissed her father, and slipped quietly into Boyne's +room, from which they could hear her passing on to her own before they +ventured to say anything to each other in the hopeful bewilderment to +which she had left them. + +"Well?" said the judge. + +"Well?" Mrs. Kenton returned, in a note of exasperation, as if she were +not going to let herself be forced to the initiative. + +"I thought you thought--" + +"I did think that. Now I don't know what to think. We have got to wait." + +"I'm willing to wait for Ellen!" + +"She seems," said Mrs. Kenton, "to have more sense than both the other +children put together, and I was afraid--" + +"She might easily have more sense than Boyne, or Lottie, either." + +"Well, I don't know," Mrs. Kenton began. But she did not go on to resent +the disparagement which she had invited. "What I was afraid of was her +goodness. It was her goodness that got her into the trouble, to begin +with. If she hadn't been so good, that fellow could never have fooled +her as he did. She was too innocent." + +The judge could not forbear the humorous view. "Perhaps she's getting +wickeder, or not so innocent. At any rate, she doesn't seem to have been +take in by Trannel." + +"He didn't pay any attention to her. He was all taken up with Lottie." + +"Well, that was lucky. Sarah," said the judge, "do you think he is like +Bittridge?" + +"He's made me think of him all the time." + +"It's curious," the judge mused. "I have always noticed how our faults +repeat themselves, but I didn't suppose our fates would always take the +same shape, or something like it." Mrs. Kenton stared at him. "When this +other one first made up to us on the boat my heart went down. I thought +of Bittridge so." + +"Mr. Breckon?" + +"Yes, the same lightness; the same sort of trifling--Didn't you notice +it?" + +"No--yes, I noticed it. But I wasn't afraid for an instant. I saw that +he was good." + +"Oh!" + +"What I'm afraid of now is that Ellen doesn't care anything about him." + +"He isn't wicked enough?" + +"I don't say that. But it would be too much happiness to expect in one +short life." + +The judge could not deny the reasonableness of her position. He could +only oppose it. "Well, I don't think we've had any more than our share +of happiness lately." + +No one except Boyne could have made Trannel's behavior a cause of +quarrel, but the other Kentons made it a cause of coldness which was +quite as effective. In Lottie this took the form of something so active, +so positive, that it was something more than a mere absence of warmth. +Before she came clown to breakfast the next morning she studied a stare +in her mirror, and practised it upon Trannel so successfully when he +came up to speak to her that it must have made him doubt whether he had +ever had her acquaintance. In his doubt he ventured to address her, +and then Lottie turned her back upon him in a manner that was perfectly +convincing. He attempted a smiling ease with Mrs. Kenton and the judge, +but they shared neither his smile nor his ease, and his jocose questions +about the end of yesterday's adventures, which he had not been privy to, +did not seem to appeal to the American sense of humor in them. Ellen was +not with them, nor Boyne, but Trannel was not asked to take either of +the vacant places at the table, even when Breckon took one of them, +after a decent exchange of civilities with him. He could only saunter +away and leave Mrs. Kenton to a little pang. + +"Tchk!" she made. "I'm sorry for him!" + +"So am I," said the judge. "But he will get over it--only too soon, I'm +afraid. I don't believe he's very sorry for himself." + +They had not advised with Breckon, and he did not feel authorized to +make any comment. He seemed preoccupied, to Mrs. Kenton's eye, when she +turned it upon him from Trannel's discomfited back, lessening in the +perspective, and he answered vaguely to her overture about his night's +rest. Lottie never made any conversation with Breckon, and she now left +him to himself, with some remnants of the disapproval which she found on +her hands after crushing Trannel. It could not be said that Breckon was +aware of her disapproval, and the judge had no apparent consciousness +of it. He and Breckon tried to make something of each other, but failed, +and it all seemed a very defeating sequel to Mrs. Kenton after the +triumphal glow of the evening before. When Lottie rose, she went with +her, alleging her wish to see if Boyne had eaten his breakfast. She +confessed, to Breckon's kind inquiry, that Boyne did not seem very well, +and that she had made him take his breakfast in his room, and she did +not think it necessary to own, even to so friendly a witness as Mr. +Breckon, that Boyne was ashamed to come down, and dreaded meeting +Trannel so much that she was giving him time to recover his self-respect +and courage. + + + + +XV. + +As soon as she and Lottie were gone Breckon began, rather more +formidably than he liked, but helplessly so: "Judge Kenton, I should be +glad of a few moments with you on--on an important--on a matter that is +important to me." + +"Well," said the judge, cautiously. Whatever was coming, he wished to +guard himself from the mistake that he had once so nearly fallen into, +and that still made him catch his breath to think of. "How can I be of +use to you?" + +"I don't know that you can be of any use--I don't know that I ought +to speak to you. But I thought you might perhaps save me from--save my +taking a false step." + +He looked at Kenton as if he would understand, and Kenton supposed that +he did. He said, "My daughter once mentioned your wish to talk with me." + +"Your daughter?" Breckon stared at him in stupefaction. + +"Yes; Ellen. She said you wished to consult me about going back to your +charge in New York, when we were on the ship together. But I don't know +that I'm very competent to give advice in such--" + +"Oh!" Breckon exclaimed, in a tone of immense relief, which did not +continue itself in what he went on to say. "That! I've quite made up my +mind to go back." He stopped, and then he burst out, "I want to speak +with you about her." The judge sat steady, still resolute not to give +himself away, and the young man scarcely recovered from what had been +a desperate plunge in adding: "I know that it's usual to speak with +her--with the lady herself first, but--I don't know! The circumstances +are peculiar. You only know about me what you've seen of me, and I would +rather make my mistakes in the order that seems right to me, although it +isn't just the American way." + +He smiled rather piteously, and the judge said, rather encouragingly, "I +don't quite know whether I follow you." + +Breckon blushed, and sought help in what remained of his coffee. "The +way isn't easy for me. But it's this: I ask your leave to ask Miss Ellen +to marry me." The worst was over now, and looked as if it were a relief. +"She is the most beautiful person in the world to me, and the best; but +as you know so little of me, I thought it right to get your leave--to +tell you--to--to--That is all." He fell back in his chair and looked a +at Kenton. + +"It is unusual," the judge began. + +"Yes, Yes; I know that. And for that reason I speak first to you. I'll +be ruled by you implicitly." + +"I don't mean that," Kenton said. "I would have expected that you would +speak to her first. But I get your point of view, and I must say I think +you're right. I think you are behaving--honorably. I wish that every one +was like you. But I can't say anything now. I must talk with her mother. +My daughter's life has not been happy. I can't tell you. But as far as I +am concerned, and I think Mrs. Kenton, too, I would be glad--We like you +Mr. Breckon. We think you are a good man. + +"Oh, thank you. I'm not so sure--" + +"We'd risk it. But that isn't all. Will you excuse me if I don't say +anything more just yet--and if I leave you?" + +"Why, certainly." The judge had risen and pushed back his chair, and +Breckon did the same. "And I shall--hear from you?" + +"Why, certainly," said the judge in his turn. + +"It isn't possible that you put him off!" his wife reproached him, when +he told what had passed between him and Breckon. "Oh, you couldn't have +let him think that we didn't want him for her! Surely you didn't!" + +"Will you get it into your head," he flamed back, "that he hasn't spoken +to Ellen yet, and I couldn't accept him till she had?" + +"Oh yes. I forgot that." Mrs. Kenton struggled with the fact, in the +difficulty of realizing so strange an order of procedure. "I suppose +it's his being educated abroad that way. But, do go back to him, Rufus, +and tell him that of course--" + +"I will do nothing of the kind, Sarah! What are you thinking of?" + +"Oh, I don't know what I'm thinking of! I must see Ellen, I suppose. +I'll go to her now. Oh, dear, if she doesn't--if she lets such a chance +slip through her fingers--But she's quite likely to, she's so obstinate! +I wonder what she'll want us to do." + +She fled to her daughter's room and found Boyne there, sitting beside +his sister's bed, giving her a detailed account of his adventure of +the day before, up to the moment Mr. Breckon met him, in charge of the +detectives. Up to that moment, it appeared to Boyne, as nearly as he +could recollect, that he had not broken down, but had behaved himself +with a dignity which was now beginning to clothe his whole experience. +In the retrospect, a quiet heroism characterized his conduct, and at the +moment his mother entered the room he was questioning Ellen as to her +impressions of his bearing when she first saw him in the grasp of the +detectives. + +His mother took him by the arm, and said, "I want to speak with Ellen, +Boyne," and put him out of the door. + +Then she came back and sat down in his chair. "Ellen. Mr. Breckon has +been speaking to your father. Do you know what about?" + +"About his going back to New York?" the girl suggested. + +Her mother kept her patience with difficulty. "No, not about that. About +you! He's asked your father--I can't understand yet why he did it, +only he's so delicate and honorable, and goodness known we appreciate +it--whether he can tell you that--that--" It was not possible for such +a mother as Mrs. Kenton to say "He loves you"; it would have sounded as +she would have said, too sickish, and she compromised on: "He likes +you, and wants to ask you whether you will marry him. And, Ellen," she +continued, in the ample silence which followed, "if you don't say you +will, I will have nothing more to do With such a simpleton. I have +always felt that you behaved very foolishly about Mr. Bittridge, but +I hoped that when you grew older you would see it as we did, and--and +behave differently. And now, if, after all we've been through with you, +you are going to say that you won't have Mr. Breckon--" + +Mrs. Kenton stopped for want of a figure that would convey all the +disaster that would fall upon Ellen in such an event, and she was given +further pause when the girl gently answered, "I'm not going to say that, +momma." + +"Then what in the world are you going to say?" Mrs. Kenton demanded. + +Ellen had turned her face away on the pillow, and now she answered, +quietly, "When Mr. Breckon asks me I will tell him." + +"Well, you had better!" her mother threatened in return, and she did not +realize the falsity of her position till she reported Ellen's words to +the judge. + +"Well, Sarah, I think she had you there," he said, and Mrs. Kenton +then said that she did not care, if the child was only going to behave +sensibly at last, and she did believe she was. + +"Then it's all right" said the judge, and he took up the Tuskingum +Intelligencer, lying till then unread in the excitements which had +followed its arrival the day before, and began to read it. + +Mrs. Kenton sat dreamily watching him, with her hands fallen in her lap. +She suddenly started up, with the cry, "Good gracious! What are we all +thinking of?" + +Kenton stared at her over the top of his paper. "How, thinking of?" + +"Why Mr. Breckon! He must be crazy to know what we've decided, poor +fellow!" + +"Oh," said the judge, folding the Intelligencer on his knee. "I had +forgotten. Somehow, I thought it was all settled." + +Mrs. Kenton took his paper from him, and finished folding it. "It hasn't +begun to be settled. You must go and let him know." + +"Won't he look me up?" the judge suggested. + +"You must look him up. Go at once dear! Think how anxious he must be!" + +Kenton was not sure that Breckon looked very anxious when he found him +on the brick promenade before the Kurhaus, apparently absorbed in noting +the convulsions of a large, round German lady in the water, who must +have supposed herself to be bathing. But perhaps the young man did not +see her; the smile on his face was too vague for such an interest when +he turned at Kenton's approaching steps. + +The judge hesitated for an instant, in which the smile left Breckon's +face. "I believe that's all right, Mr. Breckon," he said. "You'll find +Mrs. Kenton in our parlor," and then the two men parted, with an "Oh, +thank you!" from Breckon, who walked back towards the hotel, and left +Kenton to ponder upon the German lady; as soon as he realized that she +was not a barrel, the judge continued his walk along the promenade, +feeling rather ashamed. + +Mrs. Kenton had gone to Ellen's room again when she had got the judge +off upon his mission. She rather flung in upon her. "Oh, you are up!" +she apologized to Ellen's back. The girl's face was towards the glass, +and she was tilting her head to get the effect of the hat on it, which +she now took off. + +"I suppose poppa's gone to tell him," she said, sitting tremulously +down. + +"Didn't you want him to?" her mother asked, stricken a little at sight +of her agitation. + +"Yes, I wanted him to, but that doesn't make it any easier. It makes it +harder. Momma!" + +"Well, Ellen?" + +"You know you've got to tell him, first." + +"Tell him?" Mrs. Kenton repeated, but she knew what Ellen meant. + +"About--Mr. Bittridge. All about it. Every single thing. About his +kissing me that night." + +At the last demand Mrs. Kenton was visibly shaken in her invisible +assent to the girl's wish. "Don't you think, Ellen, that you had better +tell him that--some time?" + +"No, now. And you must tell him. You let me go to the theatre with him." +The faintest shadow of resentment clouded the girl's face, but still +Mrs. Kenton, thought she knew her own guilt, could not yield. + +"Why, Ellen," she pleaded, not without a reproachful sense of vulgarity +in such a plea, "don't you suppose HE ever--kissed any one?" + +"That doesn't concern me, momma," said Ellen, without a trace of +consciousness that she was saying anything uncommon. "If you won't tell +him, then that ends it. I won't see him." + +"Oh, well!" her mother sighed. "I will try to tell him. But I'd rather +be whipped. I know he'll laugh at me." + +"He won't laugh at you," said the girl, confidently, almost +comfortingly. "I want him to know everything before I meet him. I +don't want to have a single thing on my mind. I don't want to think of +myself!" + +Mrs. Kenton understood the woman--soul that spoke in these words. +"Well," she said, with a deep, long breath, "be ready, then." + +But she felt the burden which had been put upon her to be so much more +than she could bear that when she found her husband in their parlor she +instantly resolved to cast it upon him. He stood at the window with his +hat on. + +"Has Breckon been here yet?" he asked. + +"Have you seen him yet?" she returned. + +"Yes, and I thought he was coming right here. But perhaps he stopped to +screw his courage up. He only knew how little it needed with us!" + +"Well, now, it's we who've got to have the courage. Or you have. Do +you know what Ellen wants to have done?" Mrs. Kenton put it in these +impersonal terms, and as a preliminary to shirking her share of the +burden. + +"She doesn't want to have him refused?" + +"She wants to have him told all about Bittridge." + +After a momentary revolt the judge said, "Well, that's right. It's like +Ellen." + +"There's something else that's more like her," said Mrs. Kenton, +indignantly. "She wants him to told about what Bittridge did that +night--about him kissing her." + +The judge looked disgusted with his wife for the word; then he looked +aghast. "About--" + +"Yes, and she won't have a word to say to him till he is told, and +unless he is told she will refuse him." + +"Did she say that?" + +"No, but I know she will." + +"If she didn't say she would, I think we may take the chances that she +won't." + +"No, we mustn't take any such chances. You must tell him." + +"I? No, I couldn't manage it. I have no tact, and it would sound +so confoundedly queer, coming from one man to another. It would +be--indelicate. It's something that nobody but a woman--Why doesn't she +tell him herself?" + +"She won't. She considers it our part, and something we ought to do +before he commits himself." + +"Very well, then, Sarah, you must tell him. You can manage it so it +won't by so--queer. + +"That is just what I supposed you would say, Mr. Kenton, but I must say +I didn't expect it of you. I think it's cowardly." + +"Look out, Sarah! I don't like that word." + +"Oh, I suppose you're brave enough when it comes to any kind of danger. +But when it comes to taking the brunt of anything unpleasant--" + +"It isn't unpleasant--it's queer." + +"Why do you keep saying that over and over? There's nothing queer about +it. It's Ellenish but isn't it right?" + +"It's right, yes, I suppose. But it's squeamish." + +"I see nothing squeamish about it. But I know you're determined to leave +it to me, and so I shall do it. I don't believe Mr. Breckon will think +it's queer or squeamish." + +"I've no doubt he'll take it in the right way; you'll know how to--" +Kenton looked into his hat, which he had taken off and then put it on +again. His tone and his manner were sufficiently sneaking, and he could +not make them otherwise. It was for this reason, no doubt, that he would +not prolong the interview. + +"Oh yes, go!" said Mrs. Kenton, as he found himself with his hand on the +door. "Leave it all to me, do!" and he was aware of skulking out of the +room. By the time that it would have taken him so long as to walk to +the top of the grand stairway he was back again. "He's coming!" he said, +breathlessly. "I saw him at the bottom of the stairs. Go into your room +and wash your eyes. I'LL tell him." + +"No, no, Rufus! Let me! It will be much better. You'll be sure to bungle +it." + +"We must risk that. You were quite right, Sarah. It would have been +cowardly in me to let you do it." + +"Rufus! You know I didn't mean it! Surely you're not resenting that?" + +"No. I'm glad you made me see it. You're all right, Sarah, and you'll +find that it will all come out all right. You needn't be afraid I'll +bungle it. I shall use discretion. Go--" + +"I shall not stir a step from this parlor! You've got back all your +spirit, dear," said the old wife, with young pride in her husband. "But +I must say that Ellen is putting more upon you than she has any right +to. I think she might tell him herself." + +"No, it's our business--my business. We allowed her to get in for it. +She's quite right about it. We must not let him commit himself to her +till he knows the thing that most puts her to shame. It isn't enough for +us to say that it was really no shame. She feels that it casts a sort of +stain--you know what I mean, Sarah, and I believe I can make this young +man know. If I can't, so much the worse for him. He shall never see +Ellen again." + +"Oh, Rufus!" + +"Do you think he would be worthy of her if he couldn't?" + +"I think Ellen is perfectly ridiculous." + +"Then that shows that I am right in deciding not to leave this thing to +you. I feel as she does about it, and I intend that he shall." + +"Do you intend to let her run the chance of losing him?" + +"That is what I intend to do." + +"Well, then, I'll tell you what: I am going to stay right here. We will +both see him; it's right for us to do it." But at a rap on the parlor +door Mrs. Kenton flew to that of her own room, which she closed upon her +with a sort of Parthian whimper, "Oh, do be careful, Rufus!" + +Whether Kenton was careful or not could never be known, from either +Kenton himself or from Breckon. The judge did tell him everything, and +the young man received the most damning details of Ellen's history with +a radiant absence which testified that they fell upon a surface sense +of Kenton, and did not penetrate to the all-pervading sense of Ellen +herself below. At the end Kenton was afraid he had not understood. + +"You understand," he said, "that she could not consent to see you before +you knew just how weak she thought she had been." The judge stiffened to +defiance in making this humiliation. "I don't consider, myself, that she +was weak at all." + +"Of course not!" Breckon beamed back at him. + +"I consider that throughout she acted with the greatest--greatest--And +that in that affair, when he behaved with that--that outrageous +impudence, it was because she had misled the scoundrel by her kindness, +her forbearance, her wish not to do him the least shadow of injustice, +but to give him every chance of proving himself worthy of her tolerance; +and--" + +The judge choked, and Breckon eagerly asked, "And shall I--may I see her +now?" + +"Why--yes," the judge faltered. "If you're sure--" + +"What about?" Breckon demanded. + +"I don't know whether she will believe that I have told you." + +"I will try to convince her. Where shall I see her?" + +"I will go and tell her you are here. I will bring her--" + +Kenton passed into the adjoining room, where his wife laid hold of +him, almost violently. "You did it beautifully, Rufus," she huskily +whispered, "and I was so afraid you would spoil everything. Oh, how +manly you were, and how perfect he was! But now it's my turn, and I will +go and bring Ellen--You will let me, won't you?" + +"You may do anything you please, Sarah. I don't want to have any more of +this," said the judge from the chair he had dropped into. + +"Well, then, I will bring her at once," said Mrs. Kenton, staying only +in her gladness to kiss him on his gray head; he received her embrace +with a superficial sultriness which did not deceive her. + +Ellen came back without her mother, and as soon as she entered the room, +and Breckon realized that she had come alone, he ran towards her as if +to take her in his arms. But she put up her hand with extended fingers, +and held him lightly off. + +"Did poppa tell you?" she asked, with a certain defiance. She held her +head up fiercely, and spoke steadily, but he could see the pulse beating +in her pretty neck. + +"Yes, he told me--" + +"And--well?" + +"Oh, I love you, Ellen--" + +"That isn't it. Did you care?" + +Breckon had an inspiration, an inspiration from the truth that dwelt at +the bottom of his soul and had never yet failed to save him. He let his +arms fall and answered, desperately: "Yes, I did. I wished it hadn't +happened." He saw the pulse in her neck cease to beat, and he swiftly +added, "But I know that it happened just because you were yourself, and +were so--" + +"If you had said you didn't care," she breathlessly whispered, "I would +never have spoken to you." He felt a conditional tremor creeping into +the fingers which had been so rigid against his breast. "I don't see how +I lived through it! Do you think you can?" + +"I think so," he returned, with a faint, far suggestion of levity that +brought from her an imperative, imploring-- + +"Don't!" + +Then he added, solemnly, "It had no more to do with you, Ellen, than an +offence from some hateful animal--" + +"Oh, how good you are!" The fingers folded themselves, and her arms +weakened so that there was nothing to keep him from drawing her to him. +"What--what are you doing?" she asked, with her face smothered against +his. + +"Oh, Ell-en, Ellen, Ellen! Oh, my love, my dearest, my best!" + +"But I have been such a fool!" she protested, imagining that she was +going to push him from her, but losing herself in him more and more. + +"Yes, yes, darling! I know it. That's why I love you so!" + + + + +XXVI. + +"There is just one thing," said the judge, as he wound up his watch that +night, "that makes me a little uneasy still." + +Mrs. Kenton, already in her bed turned her face upon him with a +despairing "Tchk! Dear! What is it? I thought we had talked over +everything." + +"We haven't got Lottie's consent yet." + +"Well, I think I see myself asking Lottie!" Mrs. Kenton began, before +she realized her husband's irony. She added, "How could you give me such +a start?" + +"Well, Lottie has bossed us so long that I couldn't help mentioning it," +said the judge. + +It was a lame excuse, and in its most potential implication his +suggestion proved without reason. If Lottie never gave her explicit +approval to Ellen's engagement, she never openly opposed it. She treated +it, rather, with something like silent contempt, as a childish weakness +on Ellen's part which was beneath her serious consideration. Towards +Breckon, her behavior hardly changed in the severity which she had +assumed from the moment she first ceased to have any use for him. "I +suppose I will have to kiss him," she said, gloomily, when her mother +told her that he was to be her brother, and she performed the rite with +as much coldness as was ever put in that form of affectionate welcome. +It is doubtful if Breckon perfectly realized its coldness; he never +knew how much he enraged her by acting as if she were a little girl, +and saying lightly, almost trivially, "I'm so glad you're going to be a +sister to me." + +With Ellen, Lottie now considered herself quits, and from the first hour +of Ellen's happiness she threw off all the care with all the apparent +kindness which she had used towards her when she was a morbid invalid. +Here again, if Lottie had minded such a thing, she might have been as +much vexed by Ellen's attitude as by Breckon's. Ellen never once noticed +the withdrawal of her anxious oversight, or seemed in the least to miss +it. As much as her meek nature would allow, she arrogated to herself +the privileges and prerogatives of an elder sister, and if it had been +possible to make Lottie ever feel like a chit, there were moments when +Ellen's behavior would have made her feel like a chit. It was not till +after their return to Tuskingum that Lottie took her true place in +relation to the affair, and in the preparations for the wedding, which +she appointed to be in the First Universalist Church, overruling both +her mother's and sister's preferences for a home wedding, that Lottie +rose in due authority. Mrs. Kenton had not ceased to feel quelled +whenever her younger daughter called her mother instead of momma, and +Ellen seemed not really to care. She submitted the matter to Breckon, +who said, "Oh yes, if Lottie wishes," and he laughed when Ellen +confessed, "Well, I said we would." + +With the lifting of his great anxiety, he had got back to that lightness +which was most like him, and he could not always conceal from Lottie +herself that he regarded her as a joke. She did not mind it, she said, +from such a mere sop as, in the vast content of his love, he was. + +This was some months after Lottie had got at Scheveningen from Mr. +Plumpton that letter which decided her that she had no use for him. +There came the same day, and by the same post with it, a letter from one +of her young men in Tuskingum, who had faithfully written to her all +the winter before, and had not intermitted his letters after she went +abroad. To Kenton he had always seemed too wise if not too good for +Lottie, but Mrs. Kenton, who had her own doubts of Lottie, would not +allow this when it came to the question, and said, woundedly, that she +did not see why Lottie was not fully his equal in every way. + +"Well," the judge suggested, "she isn't the first young lawyer at the +Tuskingum bar." + +"Well, I wouldn't wish her to be," said Mrs. Kenton, who did not often +make jokes. + +"Well, I don't know that I would," her husband assented, and he added, +"Pretty good, Sarah." + +"Lottie," her mother summed up, "is practical, and she is very neat. She +won't let Mr. Elroy go around looking so slovenly. I hope she will make +him have his hair cut, and not look as if it were bitten off. And I +don't believe he's had his boots blacked since--" + +"He was born," the judge proposed, and she assented. + +"Yes. She is very saving, and he is wasteful. It will be a very good +match. You can let them build on the other corner of the lot, if Ellen +is going to be in New York. I would miss Lottie more than Ellen about +the housekeeping, though the dear knows I will miss them both badly +enough." + +"Well, you can break off their engagements," said the judge. + +As yet, and until Ellen was off her hands, Lottie would not allow Mr. +Elroy to consider himself engaged to her. His conditional devotion did +not debar him from a lover's rights, and, until Breckon came on from +New York to be married, there was much more courtship of Lottie than +of Ellen in the house. But Lottie saved herself in the form if not the +fact, and as far as verbal terms were concerned, she was justified by +them in declaring that she would not have another sop hanging round. + +It was Boyne, and Boyne alone, who had any misgivings in regard to +Ellen's engagement, and these were of a nature so recondite that when +he came to impart them to his mother, before they left Scheveningen, and +while there was yet time for that conclusion which his father suggested +to Mrs. Kenton too late, Boyne had an almost hopeless difficulty in +stating them. His approaches, even, were so mystical that his mother was +forced to bring him to book sharply. + +"Boyne, if you don't tell me right off just what you mean, I don't know +what I will do to you! What are you driving at, for pity's sake? Are you +saying that she oughtn't to be engaged to Mr. Breckon?" + +"No, I'm not saying that, momma," said Boyne, in a distress that caused +his mother to take a reef in her impatience. + +"Well, what are you saying, then?" + +"Why, you know how Ellen is, momma. You know how conscientious +and--and--sensitive. Or, I don't mean sensitive, exactly." + +"Well?" + +"Well, I don't think she ought to be engaged to Mr. Breckon out +of--gratitude." + +"Gratitude?" + +"Yes. I just know that she thinks--or it would be just like her--that he +saved me that day. But he only met me about a second before we came +to her and poppa, and the officers were taking me right along towards +them." Mrs. Kenton held herself stormily in, and he continued: "I know +that he translated for us before the magistrate, but the magistrate +could speak a little English, and when he saw poppa he saw that it was +all right, anyway. I don't want to say anything against Mr. Breckon, and +I think he behaved as well any one could; but if Ellen is going to marry +him out of gratitude for saving me--" + +Mrs. Kenton could hold in no longer. "And is this what you've been +bothering the life half out of me for, for the last hour?" + +"Well, I thought you ought to look at it in that light, momma." + +"Well, Boyne," said his mother, "sometimes I think you're almost a +fool!" and she turned her back upon her son and left him. + +Boyne's place in the Kenton family, for which he continued to have +the highest regard, became a little less difficult, a little less +incompatible with his self-respect as time went on. His spirit, which +had lagged a little after his body in stature, began, as his father +said, to catch up. He no longer nourished it so exclusively upon +heroical romance as he had during the past year, and after his return +to Tuskingum he went into his brother Richard's once, and manifested a +certain curiosity in the study of the law. He read Blackstone, and could +give a fair account of his impressions of English law to his father. +He had quite outlived the period of entomological research, and he +presented his collections of insects (somewhat moth-eaten) to his +nephew, on whom he also bestowed his postage-stamp album; Mary Kenton +accepted them in trust, the nephew being of yet too tender years for +their care. In the preoccupations of his immediate family with Ellen's +engagement, Boyne became rather close friends with his sister-in-law, +and there were times when he was tempted to submit to her judgment the +question whether the young Queen of Holland did not really beckon to him +that day. But pending the hour when he foresaw that Lottie should come +out with the whole story, in some instant of excitement, Boyne had not +quite the heart to speak of his experience. It assumed more and more +respectability with him, and lost that squalor which had once put him to +shame while it was yet new. He thought that Mary might be reasoned into +regarding him as the hero of an adventure, but he is still hesitating +whether to confide in her. In the meantime she knows all about it. Mary +and Richard both approved of Ellen's choice, though they are somewhat +puzzled to make out just what Mr. Breckon's religion is, and what his +relations to his charge in New York may be. These do not seem to them +quite pastoral, and he himself shares their uncertainty. But since his +flock does not include Mrs. Rasmith and her daughter, he is content to +let the question remain in abeyance. The Rasmiths are settled in Rome +with an apparent permanency which they have not known elsewhere for a +long time, and they have both joined in the friendliest kind of letter +on his marriage to their former pastor, if that was what Breckon was. +They have professed to know from the first that he was in love with +Ellen, and that he is in love with her now is the strong present belief +of his flock, if they are a flock, and if they may be said to have +anything so positive as a belief in regard to anything. + +Judge Kenton has given the Elroys the other corner of the lot, and +has supplied them the means of building on it. Mary and Lottie run +diagonally into the home-house every day, and nothing keeps either from +coming into authority over the old people except the fear of each other +in which they stand. The Kentons no longer make any summer journeys, but +in the winter they take Boyne and go to see Ellen in New York. They do +not stay so long as Mrs. Kenton would like. As soon as they have fairly +seen the Breckons, and have settled comfortably down in their pleasant +house on West Seventy-fourth Street, she detects him in a secret habit +of sighing, which she recognizes as the worst symptom of homesickness, +and then she confides to Ellen that she supposes Mr. Kenton will +make her go home with him before long. Ellen knows it is useless +to interfere. She even encourages her father's longings, so far as +indulging his clandestine visits to the seedsman's, and she goes with +him to pick up second-hand books about Ohio in the War at the dealers', +who remember the judge very flatteringly. + +As February draws on towards March it becomes impossible to detain +Kenton. His wife and son return with him to Tuskingum, where Lottie +has seen to the kindling of a good fire in the furnace against their +arrival, and has nearly come to blows with Mary about provisioning them +for the first dinner. Then Mrs. Kenton owns, with a comfort which she +will not let her husband see, that there is no place like home, and they +take up their life in the place where they have been so happy and so +unhappy. He reads to her a good deal at night, and they play a game +of checkers usually before they go to bed; she still cheats without +scruple, for, as she justly says, he knows very well that she cannot +bear to be beaten. + +The colonel, as he is still invariably known to his veterans, works +pretty faithfully at the regimental autobiography, and drives round the +country, picking up material among them, in a buggy plastered with +mud. He has imagined, since his last visit to Breckon, who dictates his +sermons, if they are sermons, taking a stenographer with him, and the +young lady, who is in deadly terror of the colonel's driving, is of the +greatest use to him, in the case of veterans who will not or cannot +give down (as they say in their dairy-country parlance), and has already +rescued many reminiscences from perishing in their faltering memories. +She writes them out in the judge's library when the colonel gets home, +and his wife sometimes surprises Mr. Kenton correcting them there at +night after she supposes he has gone to bed. + +Since it has all turned out for the best concerning Bittridge, she no +longer has those pangs of self-reproach for Richard's treatment of +him which she suffered while afraid that if the fact came to Ellen's +knowledge it might make her refuse Breckon. She does not find her +daughter's behavior in the matter so anomalous as it appears to the +judge. + +He is willing to account for it on the ground of that inconsistency +which he has observed in all human behavior, but Mrs. Kenton is not +inclined to admit that it is so very inconsistent. She contends that +Ellen had simply lived through that hateful episode of her psychological +history, as she was sure to do sooner or later and as she was destined +to do as soon as some other person arrived to take her fancy. + +If this is the crude, common-sense view of the matter, Ellen herself is +able to offer no finer explanation, which shall at the same time be more +thorough. She and her husband have not failed to talk the affair over, +with that fulness of treatment which young married people give their +past when they have nothing to conceal from each other. She has +attempted to solve the mystery by blaming herself for a certain +essential levity of nature which, under all her appearance of gravity, +sympathized with levity in others, and, for what she knows to the +contrary, with something ignoble and unworthy in them. Breckon, of +course, does not admit this, but he has suggested that she was first +attracted to him by a certain unseriousness which reminded her of +Bittridge, in enabling him to take her seriousness lightly. This is the +logical inference which he makes from her theory of herself, but she +insists that it does not follow; and she contends that she was moved to +love him by an instant sense of his goodness, which she never lost, and +in which she was trying to equal herself with him by even the desperate +measure of renouncing her happiness, if that should ever seem her duty, +to his perfection. He says this is not very clear, though it is awfully +gratifying, and he does not quite understand why Mrs. Bittridge's letter +should have liberated Ellen from her fancied obligations to the past. +Ellen can only say that it did so by making her so ashamed ever to have +had anything to do with such people, and making her see how much she had +tried her father and mother by her folly. This again Breckon contends +is not clear, but he says we live in a universe of problems in which +another, more or less, does not much matter. He is always expecting +that some chance shall confront him with Bittridge, and that the man's +presence will explain everything; for, like so many Ohio people who +leave their native State, the Bittridges have come East instead of going +West, in quitting the neighborhood of Tuskingum. He is settled with his +idolized mother in New York, where he is obscurely attached to one of +the newspapers. That he has as yet failed to rise from the ranks in +the great army of assignment men may be because moral quality tells +everywhere, and to be a clever blackguard is not so well as to be simply +clever. If ever Breckon has met his alter ego, as he amuses himself in +calling him, he has not known it, though Bittridge may have been wiser +in the case of a man of Breckon's publicity, not to call it distinction. +There was a time, immediately after the Breckons heard from Tuskingum +that the Bittridges were in New York, when Ellen's husband consulted her +as to what might be his duty towards her late suitor in the event which +has not taken place, and when he suggested, not too seriously, that +Richard's course might be the solution. To his suggestion Ellen +answered: "Oh no, dear! That was wrong," and this remains also Richard's +opinion. + + + + +PG EDITOR'S BOOKMARKS: + + A nature which all modesty and deference seemed left out of + All but took the adieus out of Richard's hands + Americans spoil their women! "Well, their women are worth it" + An inscrutable frown goes far in such exigencies + Another problem, more or less, does not much matter + Certain comfort in their mutual discouragement + Conscience to own the fact and the kindness to deny it + Fatuity of a man in such things + Fatuity of age regarding all the things of the past + Fertile in difficulties and so importunate for their solution + Girl is never so much in danger of having her heart broken + Good comrades, as elderly married people are apt to be + He was too little used to deference from ladies + Impart their sufferings as well as their pleasures to each other + Know more of their clothes than the people they buy them of + Learning to ask her no questions about herself + Left him alone to the first ecstasy of his homesickness + Living in the present + Melting into pity against all sense of duty + Misgiving of a blessed immortality + More faith in her wisdom than she had herself + More helpful with trouble to be ignorant of its cause + Not find more harm in them, if you did not bring it with you + Not what their mothers but what their environments made them + Pain of the preparations for a day's pleasure + Part of her pride not to ask + Performance of their common duty must fall wholly to her + Petted person in her youth, perhaps, and now she petted herself + Place where they have been so happy and so unhappy + Provoked that her mother would not provoke her further + Question whether the fellow was more a fool or a fraud + Relationship when one gives a reproof and the other accepts it + Relieved from a discoverer's duties to Europe + Renunciation of his judgment in deference to the good woman + Waiting with patience for the term of his exile + We have to make-believe before we can believe anything + When he got so far beyond his depth + Why, at his age, should he be going into exile + Wife was glad of the release from housekeeping + Worst whim was having no wish that could be ascertained + + + + + + +End of the Project Gutenberg EBook of The Kentons, by William Dean Howells + +*** END OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK THE KENTONS *** + +***** This file should be named 3362.txt or 3362.zip ***** +This and all associated files of various formats will be found in: + https://www.gutenberg.org/3/3/6/3362/ + +Produced by David Widger + + +Updated editions will replace the previous one--the old editions +will be renamed. + +Creating the works from public domain print editions means that no +one owns a United States copyright in these works, so the Foundation +(and you!) can copy and distribute it in the United States without +permission and without paying copyright royalties. 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FOR PUBLIC DOMAIN ETEXTS*Ver.12.12.00*END* + + + + + +This etext was produced by David Widger <widger@cecomet.net> + + + + + +THE KENTONS + +By William Dean Howells + + + + +I. + +The Kentons were not rich, but they were certainly richer than the +average in the pleasant county town of the Middle West, where they had +spent nearly their whole married life. As their circumstances had grown +easier, they had mellowed more and more in the keeping of their +comfortable home, until they hated to leave it even for the short +outings, which their children made them take, to Niagara or the Upper +Lakes in the hot weather. They believed that they could not be so well +anywhere as in the great square brick house which still kept its four +acres about it, in the heart of the growing town, where the trees they +had planted with their own hands topped it on three aides, and a spacious +garden opened southward behind it to the summer wind. Kenton had his +library, where he transacted by day such law business as he had retained +in his own hands; but at night he liked to go to his wife's room and sit +with her there. They left the parlors and piazzas to their girls, where +they could hear them laughing with the young fellows who came to make the +morning calls, long since disused in the centres of fashion, or the +evening calls, scarcely more authorized by the great world. She sewed, +and he read his paper in her satisfactory silence, or they played +checkers together. She did not like him to win, and when she found +herself unable to bear the prospect of defeat, she refused to let him +make the move that threatened the safety of her men. Sometimes he +laughed at her, and sometimes he scolded, but they were very good +comrades, as elderly married people are apt to be. They had long ago +quarrelled out their serious differences, which mostly arose from such +differences of temperament as had first drawn them together; they +criticised each other to their children from time to time, but they +atoned for this defection by complaining of the children to each other, +and they united in giving way to them on all points concerning their +happiness, not to say their pleasure. + +They had both been teachers in their youth before he went into the war, +and they had not married until he had settled himself in the practice of +the law after he left the army. He was then a man of thirty, and five +years older than she; five children were born to them, but the second son +died when he was yet a babe in his mother's arms, and there was an +interval of six years between the first boy and the first girl. Their +eldest son was already married, and settled next them in a house which +was brick, like their own, but not square, and had grounds so much less +ample that he got most of his vegetables from their garden. He had grown +naturally into a share of his father's law practice, and he had taken it +all over when Renton was elected to the bench. He made a show of giving +it back after the judge retired, but by that time Kenton was well on in +the fifties. The practice itself had changed, and had become mainly the +legal business of a large corporation. In this form it was distasteful +to him; he kept the affairs of some of his old clients in his hands, but +he gave much of his time, which he saved his self-respect by calling his +leisure, to a history of his regiment in-the war. + +In his later life he had reverted to many of the preoccupations of his +youth, and he believed that Tuskingum enjoyed the best climate, on the +whole, in the union; that its people of mingled Virginian, Pennsylvanian, +and Connecticut origin, with little recent admixture of foreign strains, +were of the purest American stock, and spoke the best English in the +world; they enjoyed obviously the greatest sum of happiness, and had +incontestibly the lowest death rate and divorce rate in the State. The +growth of the place was normal and healthy; it had increased only to five +thousand during the time he had known it, which was almost an ideal +figure for a county-town. There was a higher average of intelligence +than in any other place of its size, and a wider and evener diffusion of +prosperity. Its record in the civil war was less brilliant, perhaps, +than that of some other localities, but it was fully up to the general +Ohio level, which was the high-water mark of the national achievement in +the greatest war of the greatest people under the sun. It, was Kenton's +pride and glory that he had been a part of the finest army known in +history. He believed that the men who made history ought to write it, +and in his first Commemoration-Day oration he urged his companions in +arms to set down everything they could remember of their soldiering, and +to save the letters they had written home, so that they might each +contribute to a collective autobiography of the regiment. It was only in +this way, he held, that the intensely personal character of the struggle +could be recorded. He had felt his way to the fact that every battle is +essentially episodical, very campaign a sum of fortuities; and it was not +strange that he should suppose, with his want of perspective, that this +universal fact was purely national and American. His zeal made him the +repository of a vast mass of material which he could not have refused to +keep for the soldiers who brought it to him, more or less in a humorous +indulgence of his whim. But he even offered to receive it, and in a +community where everything took the complexion of a joke, he came to be +affectionately regarded as a crank on that point; the shabbily aging +veterans, whom he pursued to their workbenches and cornfields, for, the +documents of the regimental history, liked to ask the colonel if he had +brought his gun. They, always give him the title with which he had been +breveted at the close of the war; but he was known to the, younger, +generation of his fellow-citizens as the judge. His wife called him Mr. +Kenton in the presence of strangers, and sometimes to himself, but to his +children she called him Poppa, as they did. + +The steady-going eldest son, who had succeeded to his father's affairs +without giving him the sense of dispossession, loyally accepted the +popular belief that he would never be the man his father was. He joined +with his mother in a respect for Kenton's theory of the regimental +history which was none the less sincere because it was unconsciously a +little sceptical of the outcome; and the eldest daughter was of their +party. The youngest said frankly that she had no use for any history, +but she said the same of nearly everything which had not directly or +indirectly to do with dancing. In this regulation she had use for +parties and picnics, for buggy-rides and sleigh-rides, for calls from +young men and visits to and from other girls, for concerts, for plays, +for circuses and church sociables, for everything but lectures; and she +devoted herself to her pleasures without the shadow of chaperonage, which +was, indeed, a thing still unheard of in Tuskingum. + +In the expansion which no one else ventured, or, perhaps, wished to set +bounds to, she came under the criticism of her younger brother, who, upon +the rare occasions when he deigned to mingle in the family affairs, drew +their mother's notice to his sister's excesses in carrying-on, and +required some action that should keep her from bringing the name, of +Kenton to disgrace. From being himself a boy of very slovenly and +lawless life he had suddenly, at the age of fourteen, caught himself up +from the street, reformed his dress and conduct, and confined himself in +his large room at the top of the house, where, on the pursuits to which +he gave his spare time, the friends who frequented his society, and the +literature which nourished his darkling spirit, might fitly have been +written Mystery. The sister whom he reprobated was only two years his +elder, but since that difference in a girl accounts for a great deal, it +apparently authorized her to take him more lightly than he was able to +take himself. She said that he was in love, and she achieved an +importance with him through his speechless rage and scorn which none of +the rest of his family enjoyed. With his father and mother he had a +bearing of repressed superiority which a strenuous conscience kept from +unmasking itself in open contempt when they failed to make his sister +promise to behave herself. Sometimes he had lapses from his dignified +gloom with his mother, when, for no reason that could be given, he fell +from his habitual majesty to the tender dependence of a little boy, just +as his voice broke from its nascent base to its earlier treble at moments +when he least expected or wished such a thing to happen. His stately but +vague ideal of himself was supported by a stature beyond his years, but +this rendered it the more difficult for him to bear the humiliation of +his sudden collapses, and made him at other times the easier prey of +Lottie's ridicule. He got on best, or at least most evenly, with his +eldest sister. She took him seriously, perhaps because she took all life +so; and she was able to interpret him to his father when his intolerable +dignity forbade a common understanding between them. When he got so far +beyond his depth that he did not know what he meant himself, as sometimes +happened, she gently found him a safe footing nearer shore. + +Kenton's theory was that he did not distinguish among his children. +He said that he did not suppose they were the best children in the world, +but they suited him; and he would not have known how to change them for +the better. He saw no harm in the behavior of Lottie when it most +shocked her brother; he liked her to have a good time; but it flattered +his nerves to have Ellen about him. Lottie was a great deal more +accomplished, he allowed that; she could play and sing, and she had +social gifts far beyond her sister; but he easily proved to his wife that +Nelly knew ten times as much. + +Nelly read a great deal; she kept up with all the magazines, and knew all +the books in his library. He believed that she was a fine German +scholar, and in fact she had taken up that language after leaving school, +when, if she had been better advised than she could have been in +Tuskingum, she would have kept on with her French. She started the first +book club in the place; and she helped her father do the intellectual +honors of the house to the Eastern lecturers, who always stayed with the +judge when they came to Tuskingum. She was faithfully present at the +moments, which her sister shunned in derision, when her father explained +to them respectively his theory of regimental history, and would just, +as he said, show them a few of the documents he had collected. He made +Ellen show them; she knew where to put her hand on the most +characteristic and illustrative; and Lottie offered to bet what one dared +that Ellen would marry some of those lecturers yet; she was literary +enough. + +She boasted that she was not literary herself, and had no use for any one +who was; and it could not have been her culture that drew the most +cultivated young man in Tuskingum to her. Ellen was really more +beautiful; Lottie was merely very pretty; but she had charm for them, and +Ellen, who had their honor and friendship, had no charm for them. No one +seemed drawn to her as they were drawn to her sister till a man came who +was not one of the most cultivated in Tuskingum; and then it was doubtful +whether she was not first drawn to him. She was too transparent to hide +her feeling from her father and mother, who saw with even more grief than +shame that she could not hide it from the man himself, whom they thought +so unworthy of it. + +He had suddenly arrived in Tuskingum from one of the villages of the +county, where he had been teaching school, and had found something to do +as reporter on the Tuskingum 'Intelligencer', which he was instinctively +characterizing with the spirit of the new journalism, and was pushing as +hardily forward on the lines of personality as if he had dropped down to +it from the height of a New York or Chicago Sunday edition. The judge +said, with something less than his habitual honesty, that he did not mind +his being a reporter, but he minded his being light and shallow; he +minded his being flippant and mocking; he minded his bringing his +cigarettes and banjo into the house at his second visit. He did not mind +his push; the fellow had his way to make and he had to push; but he did +mind his being all push; and his having come out of the country with as +little simplicity as if he had passed his whole life in the city. He had +no modesty, and he had no reverence; he had no reverence for Ellen +herself, and the poor girl seemed to like him for that. + +He was all the more offensive to the judge because he was himself to +blame for their acquaintance, which began when one day the fellow had +called after him in the street, and then followed down the shady sidewalk +beside him to his hour, wanting to know what this was he had heard about +his history, and pleading for more light upon his plan in it. At the +gate he made a flourish of opening and shutting it for the judge, and +walking up the path to his door he kept his hand on the judge's shoulder +most offensively; but in spite of this Kenton had the weakness to ask him +in, and to call Ellen to get him the most illustrative documents of the +history. + +The interview that resulted in the 'Intelligencer' was the least evil +that came of this error. Kenton was amazed, and then consoled, and then +afflicted that Ellen was not disgusted with it; and in his conferences +with his wife he fumed and fretted at his own culpable folly, and tried +to get back of the time he had committed it, in that illusion which +people have with trouble that it could somehow be got rid of if it could +fairly be got back of; till the time came when his wife could no longer +share his unrest in this futile endeavor. + +She said, one night when they had talked late and long, "That can't be +helped now; and the question is what are we going to do to stop it." + +The judge evaded the point in saying, "The devil of it is that all the +nice fellows are afraid of her; they respect her too much, and the very +thing which ought to disgust her with this chap is what gives him his +power over her. I don't know what we are going to do, but we must break +it off, somehow." + +"We might take her with us somewhere," Mrs. Kenton suggested. + +"Run away from the fellow? I think I see myself! No, we have got to +stay and face the thing right here. But I won't have him about the house +any more, understand that. He's not to be let in, and Ellen mustn't see +him; you tell her I said so. Or no! I will speak to her myself." His +wife said that he was welcome to do that; but he did not quite do it. He +certainly spoke to his daughter about her, lover, and he satisfied +himself that there was yet nothing explicit between them. But she was so +much less frank and open with him than she had always been before that he +was wounded as well as baffled by her reserve. He could not get her to +own that she really cared for the fellow; but man as he was, and old man +as he was, he could not help perceiving that she lived in a fond dream of +him. + +He went from her to her mother. "If he was only one-half the man she +thinks he is!"--he ended his report in a hopeless sigh. + +"You want to give in to her!" his wife pitilessly interpreted. "Well, +perhaps that would be the best thing, after all." + +"No, no, it wouldn't, Sarah; it would be the easiest for both of us, I +admit, but it would be the worst thing for her. We've got to let it run +along for a while yet. If we give him rope enough he may hang himself; +there's that chance. We can't go away, and we can't shut her up, and we +can't turn him out of the house. We must trust her to find him out for +herself." + +"She'll never do that," said the mother. "Lottie says Ellen thinks he's +just perfect. He cheers her up, and takes her out of herself. We've +always acted with her as if we thought she was different from other +girls, and he behaves to her as if she was just like all of them, just as +silly, and just as weak, and it pleases her, and flatters her; she likes +it." + +"Oh, Lord!" groaned the father. "I suppose she does." + +This was bad enough; it was a blow to his pride in Ellen; but there was +something that hurt him still worse. When the fellow had made sure of +her, he apparently felt himself so safe in her fondness that he did not +urge his suit with her. His content with her tacit acceptance gave the +bitterness of shame to the promise Kenton and his wife had made each +other never to cross any of their children in love. They were ready now +to keep that promise for Ellen, if he asked it of them, rather than +answer for her lifelong disappointment, if they denied him. But, +whatever he meant finally to do, he did not ask it; he used his footing +in their house chiefly as a basis for flirtations beyond it. He began to +share his devotions to Ellen with her girl friends, and not with her girl +friends alone. It did not come to scandal, but it certainly came to +gossip about him and a silly young wife; and Kenton heard of it with a +torment of doubt whether Ellen knew of it, and what she would do; he +would wait for her to do herself whatever was to be done. He was never +certain how much she had heard of the gossip when she came to her mother, +and said with the gentle eagerness she had, "Didn't poppa talk once of +going South this winter?" + +"He talked of going to New York," the mother answered, with a throb of +hope. + +"Well," the girl returned, patiently, and Mrs. Kenton read in her +passivity an eagerness to be gone from sorrow that she would not suffer +to be seen, and interpreted her to her father in such wise that he could +not hesitate. + + + + +II. + +If such a thing could be mercifully ordered, the order of this event had +certainly been merciful; but it was a cruel wrench that tore Kenton from +the home where he had struck such deep root. When he actually came to +leave the place his going had a ghastly unreality, which was heightened +by his sense of the common reluctance. No one wanted to go, so far as he +could make out, not even Ellen herself, when he tried to make her say she +wished it. Lottie was in open revolt, and animated her young men to a +share in the insurrection. Her older brother was kindly and helpfully +acquiescent, but he was so far from advising the move that Kenton had +regularly to convince himself that Richard approved it, by making him say +that it was only for the winter and that it was the best way of helping +Ellen get rid of that fellow. All this did not enable Kenton to meet the +problems of his younger son, who required him to tell what he was to do +with his dog and his pigeons, and to declare at once how he was to +dispose of the cocoons he had amassed so as not to endanger the future of +the moths and butterflies involved in them. The boy was so fertile in +difficulties and so importunate for their solution, that he had to be +crushed into silence by his father, who ached in a helpless sympathy with +his reluctance. + +Kenton came heavily upon the courage of his wife, who was urging forward +their departure with so much energy that he obscurely accused her of +being the cause of it, and could only be convinced of her innocence when +she offered to give the whole thing up if he said so. When he would not +say so, she carried the affair through to the bitter end, and she did not +spare him some, pangs which she perhaps need not have shared with him. +But people are seldom man and wife for half their lives without wishing +to impart their sufferings as well as their pleasures to each other; and +Mrs. Kenton, if she was no worse, was no better than other wives in +pressing to her husband's lips the cup that was not altogether sweet to +her own. She went about the house the night before closing it, to see +that everything was in a state to be left, and then she came to Kenton in +his library, where he had been burning some papers and getting others +ready to give in charge to his son, and sat down by his cold hearth with +him, and wrung his soul with the tale of the last things she had been +doing. When she had made him bear it all, she began to turn the bright +side of the affair to him. She praised the sense and strength of Ellen, +in the course the girl had taken with herself, and asked him if he, +really thought they could have done less for her than they were doing. +She reminded him that they were not running away from the fellow, as she +had once thought they must, but Ellen was renouncing him, and putting him +out of her sight till she could put him out of her mind. She did not +pretend that the girl had done this yet; but it was everything that she +wished to do it, and saw that it was best. Then she kissed him on his +gray head, and left him alone to the first ecstasy of his homesickness. + +It was better when they once got to New York, and were settled in an +apartment of an old-fashioned down-town hotel. They thought themselves +very cramped in it, and they were but little easier when they found that +the apartments over and under them were apparently thought spacious for +families of twice their numbers. It was the very quietest place in the +whole city, but Kenton was used to the stillness of Tuskingum, where, +since people no longer kept hens, the nights were stiller than in the +country itself; and for a week he slept badly. Otherwise, as soon as +they got used to living in six rooms instead of seventeen, they were +really very comfortable. + +He could see that his wife was glad of the release from housekeeping, and +she was growing gayer and seemed to be growing younger in the inspiration +of the great, good-natured town. They had first come to New York on +their wedding journey, but since that visit she had always let him go +alone on his business errands to the East; these had grown less and less +frequent, and he had not seen New York for ten or twelve years. He could +have waited as much longer, but he liked her pleasure in the place, and +with the homesickness always lurking at his heart he went about with her +to the amusements which she frequented, as she said, to help Ellen take +her mind off herself. At the play and the opera he sat thinking of the +silent, lonely house at Tuakingum, dark among its leafless maples, and +the life that was no more in it than if they had all died out of it; and +he could not keep down a certain resentment, senseless and cruel, as if +the poor girl were somehow to blame for their exile. When he betrayed +this feeling to his wife, as he sometimes must, she scolded him for it, +and then offered, if he really thought anything like that, to go back to +Tuskingum at once; and it ended in his having to own himself wrong, and +humbly promise that he never would let the child dream how he felt, +unless he really wished to kill her. He was obliged to carry his self- +punishment so far as to take Lottie very sharply to task when she broke +out in hot rebellion, and declared that it was all Ellen's fault; she was +not afraid of killing her sister; and though she did not say it to her, +she said it of her, that anybody else could have got rid of that fellow +without turning the whole family out of house and home. + +Lottie, in fact, was not having a bit good time in New York, which she +did not find equal in any way to Tuskingum for fun. She hated the dull +propriety of the hotel, where nobody got acquainted, and every one was as +afraid as death of every one else; and in her desolation she was thrown +back upon the society of her brother Boyne. They became friends in their +common dislike of New York; and pending some chance of bringing each +other under condemnation they lamented their banishment from Tuskingum +together. But even Boyne contrived to make the heavy time pass more +lightly than she in the lessons he had with a tutor, and the studies of +the city which he carried on. When the skating was not good in Central +Park he spent most of his afternoons and evenings at the vaudeville +theatres. None of the dime museums escaped his research, and he +conversed with freaks and monsters of all sorts upon terms of friendly +confidence. He reported their different theories of themselves to his +family with the same simple-hearted interest that he criticised the song +and dance artists of the vaudeville theatres. He became an innocent but +by no means uncritical connoisseur of their attractions, and he surprised +with the constancy and variety of his experience in them a gentleman who +sat next him one night. Boyne thought him a person of cultivation, and +consulted him upon the opinion he had formed that there was not so much +harm in such places as people said. The gentleman distinguished in +saying that he thought you would not find more harm in them, if you did +not bring it with you, than you would in the legitimate theatres; and in +the hope of further wisdom from him, Boyne followed him out of the +theatre and helped him on with his overcoat. The gentleman walked home +to his hotel with him, and professed a pleasure in his acquaintance which +he said he trusted they might sometime renew. + +All at once the Kentons began to be acquainted in the hotel, as often +happens with people after they have long ridden up and down in the +elevator together in bonds of apparently perpetual strangeness. From one +friendly family their acquaintance spread to others until they were, +almost without knowing it, suddenly and simultaneously on smiling and +then on speaking terms with the people of every permanent table in the +dining-room. Lottie and Boyne burst the chains of the unnatural kindness +which bound them, and resumed their old relations of reciprocal censure. +He found a fellow of his own age in the apartment below, who had the same +country traditions and was engaged in a like inspection of the city; and +she discovered two girls on another floor, who said they received on +Saturdays and wanted her to receive with them. They made a tea for her, +and asked some real New Yorkers; and such a round of pleasant little +events began for her that Boyne was forced to call his mother's attention +to the way Charlotte was going on with the young men whom she met and +frankly asked to call upon her without knowing anything about them; you +could not do that in New York, he said. + +But by this time New York had gone to Mrs. Kenton's head, too, and she +was less fitted to deal with Lottie than at home. Whether she had +succeeded or not in helping Ellen take her mind off herself, she had +certainly freed her own from introspection in a dream of things which had +seemed impossible before. She was in that moment of a woman's life which +has a certain pathos for the intelligent witness, when, having reared her +children and outgrown the more incessant cares of her motherhood, she +sometimes reverts to her girlish impulses and ideals, and confronts the +remaining opportunities of life with a joyful hope unknown to our heavier +and sullener sex in its later years. It is this peculiar power of +rejuvenescence which perhaps makes so many women outlive their husbands, +who at the same age regard this world as an accomplished fact. Mrs. +Kenton had kept up their reading long after Kenton found himself too busy +or too tired for it; and when he came from his office at night and fell +asleep over the book she wished him to hear, she continued it herself, +and told him about it. When Ellen began to show the same taste, they +read together, and the mother was not jealous when the father betrayed +that he was much prouder of his daughter's culture than his wife's. She +had her own misgivings that she was not so modern as Ellen, and she +accepted her judgment in the case of some authors whom she did not like +so well. + +She now went about not only to all the places where she could make +Ellen's amusement serve as an excuse, but to others when she could not +coax or compel the melancholy girl. She was as constant at matinees of +one kind as Boyne at another sort; she went to the exhibitions of +pictures, and got herself up in schools of painting; she frequented +galleries, public and private, and got asked to studio teas; she went to +meetings and conferences of aesthetic interest, and she paid an easy way +to parlor lectures expressive of the vague but profound ferment in +women's souls; from these her presence in intellectual clubs was a simple +and natural transition. She met and talked with interesting people, and +now and then she got introduced to literary people. Once, in a book- +store, she stood next to a gentleman leaning over the same counter, whom +a salesman addressed by the name of a popular author, and she remained +staring at him breathless till he left the place. When she bragged of +the prodigious experience at home, her husband defied her to say how it +differed from meeting the lecturers who had been their guests in +Tuskingum, and she answered that none of them compared with this author; +and, besides, a lion in his own haunts was very different from a lion +going round the country on exhibition. Kenton thought that was pretty +good, and owned that she had got him there. + +He laughed at her, to the children, but all the same she believed that +she was living in an atmosphere of culture, and with every breath she was +sensible of an intellectual expansion. She found herself in the +enjoyment of so wide and varied a sympathy with interests hitherto +strange to her experience that she could not easily make people believe +she had never been to Europe. Nearly every one she met had been several +times, and took it for granted that she knew the Continent as well as +they themselves. + +She denied it with increasing shame; she tried to make Kenton understand +how she felt, and she might have gone further if she had not seen how +homesick he was for Tuskingum. She did her best to coax him and scold +him into a share of the pleasure they were all beginning to have in New +York. She made him own that Ellen herself was beginning to be gayer; she +convinced him that his business was not suffering in his absence and that +he was the better from the complete rest he was having. She defied him, +to say, then, what was the matter with him, and she bitterly reproached +herself, in the event, for not having known that it was not homesickness +alone that was the trouble. When he was not going about with her, or +doing something to amuse the children, he went upon long, lonely walks, +and came home silent and fagged. He had given up smoking, and he did not +care to sit about in the office of the hotel where other old fellows +passed the time over their papers and cigars, in the heat of the glowing +grates. They looked too much like himself, with their air of +unrecognized consequence, and of personal loss in an alien environment. +He knew from their dress and bearing that they were country people, and +it wounded him in a tender place to realize that they had each left +behind him in his own town an authority and a respect which they could +not enjoy in New York. Nobody called them judge, or general, or doctor, +or squire; nobody cared who they were, or what they thought; Kenton did +not care himself; but when he missed one of them he envied him, for then +he knew that he had gone back to the soft, warm keeping of his own +neighborhood, and resumed the intelligent regard of a community he had +grown up with. There were men in New York whom Kenton had met in former +years, and whom he had sometimes fancied looking up; but he did not let +them know he was in town, and then he was hurt that they ignored him. +He kept away from places where he was likely to meet them; he thought +that it must have come to them that he was spending the winter in New +York, and as bitterly as his nature would suffer he resented the +indifference of the Ohio Society to the presence of an Ohio man of his +local distinction. He had not the habit of clubs, and when one of the +pleasant younger fellows whom he met in the hotel offered to put him up +at one, he shrank from the courtesy shyly and almost dryly. He had +outlived the period of active curiosity, and he did not explore the city +as he world once have done. He had no resorts out of the hotel, except +the basements of the secondhand book-dealers. He haunted these, and +picked up copies of war histories and biographies, which, as fast as he +read them, he sent off to his son at Tuskingum, and had him put them away +with the documents for the life of his regiment. His wife could see, +with compassion if not sympathy, that he was fondly strengthening by +these means the ties that bound him to his home, and she silently +proposed to go back to it with him whenever he should say the word. + +He had a mechanical fidelity, however, to their agreement that they +should stay till spring, and he made no sign of going, as the winter wore +away to its end, except to write out to Tuskingum minute instructions for +getting the garden ready. He varied his visits to the book-stalls by +conferences with seedsmen at their stores; and his wife could see that he +had as keen a satisfaction in despatching a rare find from one as from +the other. + +She forbore to make him realize that the situation had not changed, and +that they would be taking their daughter back to the trouble the girl +herself had wished to escape. She was trusting, with no definite hope, +for some chance of making him feel this, while Kenton was waiting with a +kind of passionate patience for the term of his exile, when he came in +one day in April from one of his long walks, and said he had been up to +the Park to see the blackbirds. But he complained of being tired, and he +lay down on his bed. He did not get up for dinner, and then it was six +weeks before he left his room. + +He could not remember that he had ever been sick so long before, and he +was so awed by his suffering, which was severe but not serious, that when +his doctor said he thought a voyage to Europe would be good for him he +submitted too meekly for Mrs. Kenton. Her heart smote her for her guilty +joy in his sentence, and she punished herself by asking if it would not +do him more good to get back to the comfort and quiet of their own house. +She went to the length of saying that she believed his attack had been +brought on more by homesickness than anything else. But the doctor +agreed rather with her wish than her word, and held out that his +melancholy was not the cause but the effect of his disorder. Then she +took courage and began getting ready to go. She did not flag even in the +dark hours when Kenton got back his courage with his returning strength, +and scoffed at the notion of Europe, and insisted that as soon as they +were in Tuskingum he should be all right again. + +She felt the ingratitude, not to say the perfidy, of his behavior, and +she fortified herself indignantly against it; but it was not her constant +purpose, or the doctor's inflexible opinion, that prevailed with Kenton +at last a letter came one day for Ellen which she showed to her mother, +and which her mother, with her distress obscurely relieved by a sense of +its powerful instrumentality, brought to the girl's father. It was from +that fellow, as they always called him, and it asked of the girl a +hearing upon a certain point in which, it had just come to his knowledge, +she had misjudged him. He made no claim upon her, and only urged his +wish to right himself with her because she was the one person in the +whole world, after his mother, for whose good opinion he cared. With +some tawdriness of sentiment, the letter was well worded; it was +professedly written for the sole purpose of knowing whether, when she +came back to Tuskingum, she would see him, and let him prove to her that +he was not wholly unworthy of the kindness she had shown him when he was +without other friends. + +"What does she say?" the judge demanded. + +"What do you suppose?" his wife retorted. "She thinks she ought to see +him." + +"Very well, then. We will go to Europe." + +"Not on my account!" Mrs. Kenton consciously protested. + +"No; not on your account, or mine, either. On Nelly's account. Where is +she? I want to talk with her." + +"And I want to talk with you. She's out, with Lottie; and when she comes +back I will tell her what you say. But I want to know what you think, +first." + + + + +III. + +It was some time before they arrived at a common agreement as to what +Kenton thought, and when they reached it they decided that they must +leave the matter altogether to Ellen, as they had done before. They +would never force her to anything, and if, after all that her mother +could say, she still wished to see the fellow, they would not deny her. + +When it came to this, Ellen was a long time silent, so long a time that +her mother was beginning restively to doubt whether she was going to +speak at all. Then she drew a long, silent breath. "I suppose I ought +to despise myself, momma, for caring for him, when he's never really said +that he cared for me." + +"No, no," her mother faltered. + +"But I do, I do!" she gave way piteously. "I can't help it! He doesn't +say so, even now." + +"No, he doesn't." It hurt her mother to own the fact that alone gave her +hope. + +The girl was a long time silent again before she asked, "Has poppa got +the tickets?" + +"Why, he wouldn't, Ellen, child, till he knew how you felt," her mother +tenderly reproached her. + +"He'd better not wait!" The tears ran silently down Ellen's cheeks, and +her lips twitched a little between these words and the next; she spoke as +if it were still of her father, but her mother understood. "If he ever +does say so, don't you speak a word to me, momma; and don't you let +poppa." + +"No; indeed I won't," her mother promised. "Have we ever interfered, +Ellen? Have we ever tried to control you?" + +"He WOULD have said so, if he hadn't seen that everybody was against +him." The mother bore without reply the ingratitude and injustice that +she knew were from the child's pain and not from her will. "Where is his +letter? Give me his letter!" She nervously twitched it from her +mother's hand and ran it into her pocket. She turned away to go and put +off her hat, which she still wore from coming in with Lottie; but she +stopped and looked over her shoulder at her mother. "I'm going to answer +it, and I don't want you ever to ask me what I've said. Will you?" + +"No, I won't, Nelly." + +"Well, then!" + +The next night she went with Boyne and Lottie to the apartment overhead +to spend their last evening with the young people there, who were going +into the country the next day. She came back without the others, who +wished to stay a little longer, as she said, with a look of gay +excitement in her eyes, which her mother knew was not happiness. Mrs. +Kenton had an impulse to sweep into her lap the lithograph plans of the +steamer, and the passage ticket which lay open on the table before +herself and her husband. But it was too late to hide them from Ellen. +She saw them, and caught up the ticket, and read it, and flung it down +again. "Oh, I didn't think you would do it!" she burst out; and she ran +away to her room, where they could hear her sobbing, as they sat +haggardly facing each other. + +"Well, that settles it," said Benton at last, with a hard gulp. + +"Oh, I suppose so," his wife assented. + +On his part, now, he had a genuine regret for her disappointment from the +sad safety of the trouble that would keep them at home; and on her part +she could be glad of it if any sort of comfort could come out of it to +him. + +"Till she says go," he added, "we've got to stay." + +"Oh yes," his wife responded. "The worst of it is, we can't even go back +to Tuskingum:' He looked up suddenly at her, and she saw that be had not +thought of this. She made "Tchk!" in sheer amaze at him. + +"We won't cross that river till we come to it," he said, sullenly, but +half-ashamed. The next morning the situation had not changed overnight, +as they somehow both crazily hoped it might, and at breakfast, which they +had at a table grown more remote from others with the thinning out of the +winter guests of the hotel, the father and mother sat down alone in +silence which was scarcely broken till Lottie and Boyne joined them. + +"Where's Ellen?" the boy demanded. + +"She's having her breakfast in her room," Mrs. Kenton answered. + +"She says she don't want to eat anything," Lottie reported. "She made +the man take it away again." + +The gloom deepened in the faces of the father and mother, but neither +spoke, and Boyne resumed the word again in a tone of philosophic +speculation. "I don't see how I'm going to get along, with those +European breakfasts. They say you can't get anything but cold meat or +eggs; and generally they don't expect to give you anything but bread and +butter with your coffee. I don't think that's the way to start the day, +do you, poppa?" + +Kenton seemed not to have heard, for he went on silently eating, and the +mother, who had not been appealed to, merely looked distractedly across +the table at her children. + +"Mr. Plumpton says he's coming down to see us off," said Lottie, +smoothing her napkin in her lap. "Do you know the time of day when the +boat sails, momma?" + +"Yes," her brother broke in, "and if I had been momma I'd have boxed your +ears for the way you went on with him. You fairly teased him to come. +The way Lottie goes on with men is a shame, momma." + +"What time does the boat sail, momma!" Lottie blandly persisted. "I +promised to let Mr. Plumpton know." + +"Yes, so as to get a chance to write to him," said Boyne. "I guess when +he sees your spelling!" + +"Momma! Do wake up! What time does our steamer sail?" + +A light of consciousness came into Mrs. Renton's eyes at last, and she +sighed gently. "We're not going, Lottie." + +"Not going! Why, but we've got the tickets, and I've told--" + +"Your father has decided not to go, for the present. We may go later in +the summer, or perhaps in the fall." + +Boyne looked at his father's troubled face, and said nothing, but Lottie +was not stayed from the expression of her feelings by any ill-timed +consideration for what her father's might be. "I just know," she fired, +"it's something to do with that nasty Bittridge. He's been a bitter dose +to this family! As soon as I saw Ellen have a letter I was sure it was +from him; and she ought to be ashamed. If I had played the simpleton +with such a fellow I guess you wouldn't have let me keep you from going +to Europe very much. What is she going to do now? Marry him? Or +doesn't he want her to?" + +"Lottie!" said her mother, and her father glanced up at her with a face +that silenced her. + +"When you've been half as good a girl as Ellen has been, in this whole +matter," he said, darkly, "it will be time for you to complain of the way +you've been treated." + +"Oh yes, I know you like Ellen the best," said the girl, defiantly. + +"Don't say such a thing, Lottie!" said her mother. "Your father loves +all his children alike, and I won't have you talking so to him. Ellen +has had a great deal to bear, and she has behaved beautifully. If we are +not going to Europe it is because we have decided that it is best not to +go, and I wish to hear nothing more from you about it." + +"Oh yes! And a nice position it leaves me in, when I've been taking +good-bye of everybody! Well, I hope to goodness you won't say anything +about it till the Plumptons get away. I couldn't have the face to meet +them if you did." + +"It won't be necessary to say anything; or you can say that we've merely +postponed our sailing. People are always doing that." + +"It's not to be a postponement," said Kenton, so sternly that no one +ventured to dispute him, the children because they were afraid of him, +and their mother because she was suffering for him. + +At the steamship office, however, the authorities represented that it was +now so near the date of his sailing that they could not allow him to +relinquish his passages except at his own risk. They would try to sell +his ticket for him, but they could not take it back, and they could not +promise to sell it. There was reason in what they said, but if there had +been none, they had the four hundred dollars which Kenton had paid for +his five berths and they had at least the advantage of him in the +argument by that means. He put the ticket back in his pocket-book +without attempting to answer them, and deferred his decision till he +could advise with his wife, who, after he left the breakfast-table upon +his errand to the steamship office, had abandoned her children to their +own devices, and gone to scold Ellen for not eating. + +She had not the heart to scold her when she found the girl lying face +downward in the pillow, with her thin arms thrown up through the coils +and heaps of her loose-flung hair. She was so alight that her figure +scarcely defined itself under the bedclothes; the dark hair, and the +white, outstretched arms seemed all there was of her. She did not stir, +but her mother knew she was not sleeping. "Ellen," she said, gently, +"you needn't be troubled about our going to Europe. Your father has gone +down to the steamship office to give back his ticket." + +The girl flashed her face round with nervous quickness. "Gone to give +back his ticket!" + +"Yes, we decided it last night. He's never really wanted to go, and--" + +"But I don't wish poppa to give up his ticket!" said Ellen. "He must +get it again. I shall die if I stay here, momma. We have got to go. +Can't you understand that?" + +Mrs. Kenton did not know what to answer. She had a strong superficial +desire to shake her daughter as a naughty child which has vexed its +mother, but under this was a stir stronger pity for her as a woman, which +easily, prevailed. "Why, but, Ellen dear! We thought from what you said +last night--" + +"But couldn't you SEE," the girl reproached her, and she began to cry, +and turned her face into the pillow again and lay sobbing. + +"Well," said her mother, after she had given her a little time, "you +needn't be troubled. Your father can easily get the ticket again; he can +telephone down for it. Nothing has been done yet. But didn't you really +want to stay, then?" + +"It isn't whether I want to stay or not," Ellen spoke into her pillow. +"You know that. You know that I have got to go. You know that if I saw +him--Oh, why do you make me talk?" + +"Yes, I understand, child." Then, in the imperious necessity of blaming +some one, Mrs. Kenton added: "You know how it is with your father. He is +always so precipitate; and when he heard what you said, last night, it +cut him to the heart. He felt as if he were dragging you away, and this +morning he could hardly wait to get through his breakfast before he +rushed down to the steamship office. But now it's all right again, and +if you want to go, we'll go, and your father will only be too glad." + +"I don't want father to go against his will. You said he never wanted to +go to Europe." The girl had turned her face upon her mother again; and +fixed her with her tearful, accusing eyes. + +"The doctors say he ought to go. He needs the change, and I think we +should all be the better far getting away." + +"I shall not," said Ellen. "But if I don't--" + +"Yes," said her mother, soothingly. + +"You know that nothing has changed. He hasn't changed and I haven't. If +he was bad, he's as bad as ever, and I'm just as silly. Oh, it's like a +drunkard! I suppose they know it's killing them, but they can't give it +up! Don't you think it's very strange, momma? I don't see why I should +be so. It seems as if I had no character at all, and I despise myself +so! Do you believe I shall ever get over it? Sometimes I think the best +thing for me would be to go into an asylum." + +"Oh yes, dear; you'll get over it, and forget it all. As soon as you see +others--other scenes--and get interested--" + +"And you don't you don't think I'd better let him come, and--" + +"Ellen!" + +Ellen began to sob again, and toss her head upon the pillow. "What shall +I do? What shall I do?" she wailed. "He hasn't ever done anything bad +to me, and if I can overlook his--his flirting--with that horrid thing, +I don't know what the rest of you have got to say. And he says he can +explain everything. Why shouldn't I give him the chance, momma? I do +think it is acting very cruel not to let him even say a word." + +"You can see him if you wish, Ellen," said her mother, gravely. "Your +father and I have always said that. And perhaps it would be the best +thing, after all." + +"Oh, you say that because you think that if I did see him, I should be so +disgusted with him that I'd never want to speak to him again. But what +if I shouldn't?" + +"Then we should wish you to do whatever you thought was for your +happiness, Ellen. We can't believe it would be for your good; but if it +would be for your happiness, we are willing. Or, if you don't think it's +for your happiness, but only for his, and you wish to do it, still we +shall be willing, and you know that as far as your father and I are +concerned, there will never be a word of reproach--not a whisper." + +"Lottie would despise me; and what would Richard say?" + +"Richard would never say anything to wound you, dear, and if you don't +despise yourself, you needn't mind Lottie." + +"But I should, momma; that's the worst of it! I should despise myself, +and he would despise me too. No, if I see him, I am going to do it +because I am selfish and wicked, and wish to have my own way, no matter +who is harmed by it, or--anything; and I'm not going to have it put on +any other ground. I could see him," she said, as if to herself, "just +once more--only once more--and then if I didn't believe in him, I could +start right off to Europe." + +Her mother made no answer to this, and Ellen lay awhile apparently +forgetful of her presence, inwardly dramatizing a passionate scene of +dismissal between herself and her false lover. She roused herself from +the reverie with a long sigh, and her mother said, "Won't you have some +breakfast, now; Ellen?" + +"Yes; and I will get up. You needn't be troubled any more about me, +momma. I will write to him not to come, and poppa must go back and get +his ticket again." + +"Not unless you are doing this of your own free will, child. I can't +have you feeling that we are putting any pressure upon you." + +"You're not. I'm doing it of my own will. If it isn't my free will, +that isn't your fault. I wonder whose fault it is? Mine, or what made +me so silly and weak?" + +"You are not silly and weak," said her mother, fondly, and she bent over +the girl and would have kissed her, but Ellen averted her face with a +piteous "Don't!" and Mrs. Kenton went out and ordered her breakfast +brought back. + +She did not go in to make her eat it, as she would have done in the +beginning of the girl's trouble; they had all learned how much better she +was for being left to fight her battles with herself singlehanded. +Mrs. Kenton waited in the parlor till her husband same in, looking gloomy +and tired. He put his hat down and sank into a chair without speaking. +"Well?" she said. + +"We have got to lose the price of the ticket, if we give it back. I +thought I had better talk with you first," said Kenton, and he explained +the situation. + +"Then you had better simply have it put off till the next steamer. +I have been talking with Ellen, and she doesn't want to stay. She wants +to go." His wife took advantage of Kenton's mute amaze (in the nervous +vagaries even of the women nearest him a man learns nothing from +experience) to put her own interpretation on the case, which, as it was +creditable to the girl's sense and principle, he found acceptable if not +imaginable. "And if you will take my advice," she ended, "you will go +quietly back to the steamship office and exchange your ticket for the +next steamer, or the one after that, if you can't get good rooms, and +give Ellen time to get over this before she leaves. It will be much +better for her to conquer herself than to run away, for that would always +give her a feeling of shame, and if she decides before she goes, it will +strengthen her pride and self-respect, and there will be less danger-- +when we come back." + +"Do you think he's going to keep after her!" + +"How can I tell? He will if he thinks it's to his interest, or he can +make anybody miserable by it." + +Kenton said nothing to this, but after a while he suggested, rather +timorously, as if it were something he could not expect her to approve, +and was himself half ashamed of, "I believe if I do put it off, I'll run +out to Tuskingum before we sail, and look after a little matter of +business that I don't think Dick can attend to so well." + +His wife knew why he wanted to go, and in her own mind she had already +decided that if he should ever propose to go, she should not gainsay him. +She had, in fact, been rather surprised that he had not proposed it +before this, and now she assented, without taxing him with his real +motive, and bringing him to open disgrace before her. She even went +further in saying: "Very well, then you had better go. I can get on very +well here, and I think it will leave Ellen freer to act for herself if +you are away. And there are some things in the house that I want, and +that Richard would be sure to send his wife to get if I asked him, and I +won't have her rummaging around in my closets. I suppose you will want +to go into the house?" + +"I suppose so," said Renton, who had not let a day pass, since he left +his house, without spending half his homesick time in it. His wife +suffered his affected indifference to go without exposure, and trumped up +a commission for him, which would take him intimately into the house. + + + + +IV + +The piety of his son Richard had maintained the place at Tuskingum in +perfect order outwardly, and Kenton's heart ached with tender pain as he +passed up the neatly kept walk from the gate, between the blooming ranks +of syringas and snowballs, to his door, and witnessed the faithful care +that Richard's hired man had bestowed upon every detail. The grass +between the banks of roses and rhododendrons had been as scrupulously +lawn-mowered and as sedulously garden-hosed as if Kenton himself had been +there to look after its welfare, or had tended the shrubbery as he used +to do in earlier days with his own hand. The oaks which he had planted +shook out their glossy green in the morning gale, and in the tulip-trees, +which had snowed their petals on the ground in wide circles defined by +the reach of their branches, he heard the squirrels barking; a red-bird +from the woody depths behind the house mocked the cat-birds in the +quince-trees. The June rose was red along the trellis of the veranda, +where Lottie ought to be sitting to receive the morning calls of the +young men who were sometimes quite as early as Kenton's present visit in +their devotions, and the sound of Ellen's piano, played fitfully and +absently in her fashion, ought to be coming out irrespective of the hour. +It seemed to him that his wife must open the door as his steps and his +son's made themselves heard on the walk between the box borders in their +upper orchard, and he faltered a little. + +"Look here, father," said his son, detecting his hesitation. "Why don't +you let Mary come in with you, and help you find those things?" + +"No, no," said Kenton, sinking into one of the wooden seats that flanked +the door-way. "I promised your mother that I would get them myself. You +know women don't like to have other women going through their houses." + +"Yes, but Mary!" his son urged. + +"Ah! It's just Mary, with her perfect housekeeping, that your mother +wouldn't like to have see the way she left things," said Kenton, and he +smiled at the notion of any one being housekeeper enough to find a flaw +in his wife's. "My, but this is pleasant!" he added. He took off his +hat and let the breeze play through the lank, thin hair which was still +black on his fine, high forehead. He was a very handsome old man, with a +delicate aquiline profile, of the perfect Roman type which is perhaps +oftener found in America than ever it was in Rome. "You've kept it very +nice, Dick," he said, with a generalizing wave of his hat. + +"Well, I couldn't tell whether you would be coming back or not, and I +thought I had better be ready for you." + +"I wish we were," said the old man, "and we shall be, in the fall, or the +latter part of the summer. But it's better now that we should go--on +Ellen's account." + +"Oh, you'll enjoy it," his son evaded him. + +"You haven't seen anything of him lately?" Kenton suggested. + +"He wasn't likely to let me see anything of him," returned the son. + +"No," said the father. "Well!" He rose to put the key into the door, +and his son stepped down from the little porch to the brick walk. + +"Mary will have dinner early, father; and when you've got through here, +you'd better come over and lie down a while beforehand." + +Kenton had been dropped at eight o'clock from a sleeper on the Great +Three, and had refused breakfast at his son's house, upon the plea that +the porter had given him a Southern cantaloupe and a cup of coffee on the +train, and he was no longer hungry. + +"All right," he said. "I won't be longer than I can help." He had got +the door open and was going to close it again. + +His son laughed. "Better not shut it, father. It will let the fresh air +in." + +"Oh, all right," said the old man. + +The son lingered about, giving some orders to the hired man in the +vegetable garden, for an excuse, in the hope that his father might change +his mind and ask him to come into the house with him; he felt it so +forlorn for him to be going through those lifeless rooms alone. When he +looked round, and saw his father holding the door ajar, as if impatiently +waiting for him to be gone, he laughed and waved his hand to him. "All +right, father? I'm going now." But though he treated the matter so +lightly with his father, he said grimly to his wife, as he passed her on +their own porch, on his way to his once, "I don't like to think of father +being driven out of house and home this way." + +"Neither do I, Dick. But it can't be helped, can it?" + +"I think I could help it, if I got my hands on that fellow once." + +"No, you couldn't, Dick. It's not he that's doing it. It's Ellen; you +know that well enough; and you've just got to stand it." + +"Yes, I suppose so," said Richard Kenton. + +"Of course, my heart aches for your poor old father, but so it would if +Ellen had some kind of awful sickness. It is a kind of sickness, and you +can't fight it any more than if she really was sick." + +"No," said the husband, dejectedly. "You just slip over there, after a +while, Mary, if father's gone too long, will you? I don't like to have +him there alone." + +"'Deed and 'deed I won't, Dick. He wouldn't like it at all, my spying +round. Nothing can happen to him, and I believe your mother's just made +an excuse to send him after something, so that he can be in there alone, +and realize that the house isn't home any more. It will be easier for +him to go to Europe when he finds that out. I believe in my heart that +was her idea in not wanting me to find the things for him, and I'm not +going to meddle myself." + +With the fatuity of a man in such things, and with the fatuity of age +regarding all the things of the past, Kenton had thought in his +homesickness of his house as he used to be in it, and had never been able +to picture it without the family life. As he now walked through the +empty rooms, and up and down the stairs, his pulse beat low as if in the +presence of death. Everything was as they had left it, when they went +out of the house, and it appeared to Kenton that nothing had been touched +there since, though when he afterwards reported to his wife that there +was not a speck of dust anywhere she knew that Mary had been going +through the house, in their absence, not once only, but often, and she +felt a pang of grateful jealousy. He got together the things that Mrs. +Kenton had pretended to want, and after glancing in at the different +rooms, which seemed to be lying stealthily in wait for him, with their +emptiness and silence, he went down-stairs with the bundle he had made, +and turned into his library. He had some thought of looking at the +collections for his history, but, after pulling open one of the drawers +in which they were stored, he pushed it to again, and sank listlessly +into his leather-covered swivel-chair, which stood in its place before +the wide writing-table, and seemed to have had him in it before he sat +down. The table was bare, except for the books and documents which he +had sent home from time to time during the winter, and which Richard or +his wife had neatly arranged there without breaking their wraps. He let +fall his bundle at his feet, and sat staring at the ranks of books +against the wall, mechanically relating them to the different epochs of +the past in which he or his wife or his children had been interested in +them, and aching with tender pain. He had always supposed himself a +happy and strong and successful man, but what a dreary ruin his life had +fallen into! Was it to be finally so helpless and powerless (for with +all the defences about him that a man can have, he felt himself fatally +vulnerable) that he had fought so many years? Why, at his age, should he +be going into exile, away from everything that could make his days bright +and sweet? Why could not he come back there, where he was now more +solitary than he could be anywhere else on earth, and reanimate the dead +body of his home with his old life? He knew why, in an immediate sort, +but his quest was for the cause behind the cause. What had he done, or +left undone? He had tried to be a just man, and fulfil all his duties +both to his family and to his neighbors; he had wished to be kind, and +not to harm any one; he reflected how, as he had grown older, the dread +of doing any unkindness had grown upon him, and how he had tried not to +be proud, but to walk meekly and humbly. Why should he be punished as he +was, stricken in a place so sacred that the effort to defend himself had +seemed a kind of sacrilege? He could not make it out, and he was not +aware of the tears of self-pity that stole slowly down his face, though +from time to time he wiped them away. + +He heard steps in the hall without, advancing and pausing, which must be +those of his son coming back for him, and with these advances and pauses +giving him notice of his approach; but he did not move, and at first he +did not look up when the steps arrived at the threshold of the room where +he sat. When he lifted his eyes at last he saw Bittridge lounging in the +door-way, with one shoulder supported against the door-jamb, his hands in +his pockets and his hat pushed well back on his forehead. In an instant +all Kenton's humility and soft repining were gone. "Well, what is it?" +he called. + +"Oh," said Bittridge, coming forward. He laughed and explained, "Didn't +know if you recognized me." + +"I recognized you," said Kenton, fiercely. "What is it you want?" + +"Well, I happened to be passing, and I saw the door open, and I thought +maybe Dick was here." + +It was on Kenton's tongue to say that it was a good thing for him Dick +was not there. But partly the sense that this would be unbecoming +bluster, and partly the suffocating resentment of the fellow's impudence, +limited his response to a formless gasp, and Bittridge went on: "But I'm +glad to find you here, judge. I didn't know that you were in town. +Family all well in New York?" He was not quelled by the silence of the +judge on this point, but, as if he had not expected any definite reply to +what might well pass for formal civility, he now looked aslant into his +breast-pocket from which he drew a folded paper. "I just got hold of a +document this morning that I think will interest you. I was bringing it +round to Dick's wife for you." The intolerable familiarity of all this +was fast working Kenton to a violent explosion, but he contained himself, +and Bittridge stepped forward to lay the paper on the table before him. +"It's the original roster of Company C, in your regiment, and--" + +"Take it away!" shouted Kenton, "and take yourself away with it!" and he +grasped the stick that shook in his hand. + +A wicked light came into Bittridge's eye as he drawled, in lazy scorn, +"Oh, I don't know." Then his truculence broke in a malicious amusement. +"Why, judge, what's the matter?" He put on a face of mock gravity, and +Kenton knew with helpless fury that he was enjoying his vantage. He +could fall upon him and beat him with his stick, leaving the situation +otherwise undefined, but a moment's reflection convinced Kenton that this +would not do. It made him sick to think of striking the fellow, as if in +that act he should be striking Ellen, too. It did not occur to him that +he could be physically worsted, or that his vehement age would be no +match for the other's vigorous youth. All he thought was that it would +not avail, except to make known to every one what none but her dearest +could now conjecture. Bittridge could then publicly say, and doubtless +would say, that he had never made love to Ellen; that if there had been +any love-making it was all on her side; and that he had only paid her the +attentions which any young man might blamelessly pay a pretty girl. This +would be true to the facts in the case, though it was true also that he +had used every tacit art to make her believe him in love with her. But +how could this truth be urged, and to whom? So far the affair had been +quite in the hands of Ellen's family, and they had all acted for the +best, up to the present time. They had given Bittridge no grievance in +making him feel that he was unwelcome in their house, and they were quite +within their rights in going away, and making it impossible for him to +see her again anywhere in Tuskingum. As for his seeing her in New York, +Ellen had but to say that she did not wish it, and that would end it. +Now, however, by treating him rudely, Kenton was aware that he had bound +himself to render Bittridge some account of his behavior throughout, if +the fellow insisted upon it. + +"I want nothing to do with you, sir," he said, less violently, but, as he +felt, not more effectually. "You are in my house without my invitation, +and against my wish!" + +"I didn't expect to find you here. I came in because I saw the door +open, and I thought I might see Dick or his wife and give them, this +paper for you. But I'm glad I found you, and if you won't give me any +reason for not wanting me here, I can give it myself, and I think I can +make out a very good case for you." Kenton quivered in anticipation of +some mention of Ellen, and Bittridge smiled as if he understood. But he +went on to say: "I know that there were things happened after you first +gave me the run of your house that might make you want to put up the bars +again--if they were true. But they were not true. And I can prove that +by the best of all possible witnesses--by Uphill himself. He stands +shoulder to shoulder with me, to make it hot for any one who couples his +wife's name with mine." + +"Humph!" Kenton could not help making this comment, and Bittridge, being +what he was, could not help laughing. + +"What's the use?" he asked, recovering himself. "I don't pretend that +I did right, but you know there wasn't any harm in it. And if there had +been I should have got the worst of it. Honestly, judge, I couldn't tell +you how much I prized being admitted to your house on the terms I was. +Don't you think I could appreciate the kindness you all showed me? +Before you took me up, I was alone in Tuskingum, but you opened every +door in the place for me. You made it home to me; and you won't believe +it, of course, because you're prejudiced; but I felt like a son and +brother to you all. I felt towards Mrs. Kenton just as I do towards my +own mother. I lost the best friends I ever had when you turned against +me. Don't you suppose I've seen the difference here in Tuskingum? Of +course, the men pass the time of day with me when we meet, but they don't +look me up, and there are more near-sighted girls in this town!" Kenton +could not keep the remote dawn of a smile out of his eyes, and Bittridge +caught the far-off gleam. "And everybody's been away the whole winter. +Not a soul at home, anywhere, and I had to take my chance of surprising +Mrs. Dick Kenton when I saw your door open here: He laughed forlornly, as +the gleam faded out of Kenton's eye again. "And the worst of it is that +my own mother isn't at home to me, figuratively speaking, when I go over +to see her at Ballardsville. She got wind of my misfortune, somehow, and +when I made a clean breast of it to her, she said she could never feel +the same to me till I had made it all right with the Kentons. And when a +man's own mother is down on him, judge!" + +Bittridge left Kenton to imagine the desperate case, and in spite of his +disbelief in the man and all he said, Kenton could not keep his hardness +of heart towards him. "I don't know what you're after, young man," he +began. "But if you expect me to receive you under my roof again--" + +"Oh, I don't, judge, I don't!" Bittridge interposed. "All I want is to +be able to tell my mother--I don't care for anybody else--that I saw you, +and you allowed me to say that I was truly sorry for the pain--if it was +pain; or annoyance, anyway--that I had caused you, and to go back to her +with the hope of atoning for it sometime or somehow. That's all." + +"Look here!" cried Renton. "What have you written to my daughter for?" + +"Wasn't that natural? I prized her esteem more than I do yours even; but +did I ask her anything more than I've asked you? I didn't expect her to +answer me; all I wanted was to have her believe that I wasn't as black as +I was painted--not inside, anyway. You know well enough--anybody knows-- +that I would rather have her think well of me than any one else in this +world, except my mother. I haven't got the gift of showing out what's +good in me, if there is any good, but I believe Miss Ellen would want to +think well of me if I gave her a chance. If ever there was an angel on +earth, she's one. I don't deny that I was hopeful of mercy from her, +because she can't think evil, but I can lay my hand on my heart and say +that I wasn't selfish in my hopes. It seemed to me that it was her due +to understand that a man whom she had allowed to be her friend wasn't +altogether unworthy. That's as near as I can come to putting into words +the motive I had in writing to her. I can't even begin to put into words +the feeling I have towards her. It's as if she was something sacred." + +This was the feeling Renton himself had towards his daughter, and for the +first time he found himself on common ground with the scapegrace who +professed it, and whose light, mocking face so little enforced his +profession. If Bittridge could have spoken in the dark, his words might +have carried a conviction of his sincerity, but there, in plain day, +confronting the father of Ellen, who had every wish to believe him true, +the effect was different. Deep within his wish to think the man honest, +Kenton recoiled from him. He vaguely perceived that it was because she +could not think evil that this wretch had power upon her, and he was +sensible, as he had not been before, that she had no safety from him +except in absence. He did not know what to answer; he could not repel +him in open terms, and still less could he meet him with any words that +would allow him to resume his former relations with his family. He said, +finally: "We will let matters stand. We are going to Europe in a week, +and I shall not see you again. I will tell Mrs. Kenton what you say." + +"Thank you, judge. And tell her that I appreciate your kindness more +than I can say!" The judge rose from his chair and went towards the +window, which he had thrown open. "Going to shut up? Let me help you +with that window; it seems to stick. Everything fast up-stairs?" + +"I--I think so," Kenton hesitated. + +"I'll just run up and look," said Bittridge, and he took the stairs two +at a time, before Kenton could protest, when they came out into the hall +together. "It's all right," he reported on his quick return. "I'll just +look round below here," and he explored the ground-floor rooms in turn. +"No, you hadn't opened any other window," he said, glancing finally into +the library. "Shall I leave this paper on your table?" + +"Yes, leave it there," said Kenton, helplessly, and he let Bittridge +close the front door after him, and lock it. + +"I hope Miss Lottie is well," he suggested in handing the key to Kenton. +"And Boyne" he added, with the cordiality of an old family friend. +"I hope Boyne has got reconciled to New York a little. He was rather +anxious about his pigeons when he left, I understand. But I guess Dick's +man has looked after them. I'd have offered to take charge of the +cocoons myself if I'd had a chance." He walked, gayly chatting, across +the intervening lawn with Kenton to his son's door, where at sight of him +bra. Richard Kenton evanesced into the interior so obviously that +Bittridge could not offer to come in. "Well, I shall see you all when +you come back in the fall, judge, and I hope you'll have a pleasant +voyage and a good time in Europe." + +"Thank you," said Kenton, briefly. + +"Remember me to the ladies!" and Bittridge took off his hat with his +left hand, while he offered the judge his right. "Well, good-bye!" + +Kenton made what response he could, and escaped in-doors, where his +daughter-in-law appeared from the obscurity into which she had retired +from Bittridge. "Well, that follow does beat all! How, in the world did +he find you, father?" + +"He came into the house," said the judge, much abashed at his failure to +deal adequately with Bittridge. He felt it the more in the presence of +his son's wife. "I couldn't, seem to get rid of him in any way short of +kicking him out." + +"No, there's nothing equal to his impudence. I do believe he would have +come in here, if he hadn't seen me first. Did you tell him when you were +going back, father? Because he'd be at the train to see you off, just as +sure!" + +"No, I didn't tell him," said Kenton, feeling move shaken now from the +interview with Bittridge than he had realized before. He was ashamed to +let Mary know that he had listened to Bittridge's justification, which he +now perceived was none, and he would have liked to pretend that he had +not silently condoned his offences, but Mary did not drive him to these +deceptions by any further allusions to Bittridge. + +"Well, now, you must go into the sitting-room and lie down on the lounge; +I promised Dick to make you. Or would you rather go up-stairs to your +room?" + +"I think I'll go to my room," said Kenton. + +He was asleep there on the bed when Richard came home to dinner and +looked softly in. He decided not to wake him, and Mary said the sleep +would do him more good than the dinner. At table they talked him over, +and she told her husband what she knew of the morning's adventure. + +"That was pretty tough for father," said Richard. "I wouldn't go into +the house with him, because I knew he wanted to have it to himself; and +then to think of that dirty hound skulking in! Well, perhaps it's for +the best. It will make it easier, for father to go and leave the place, +and they've got to go. They've got to put the Atlantic Ocean between +Ellen and that fellow." + +"It does seem as if something might be done," his wife rebelled. + +"They've done the best that could be done," said Richard. "And if that +skunk hasn't got some sort of new hold upon father, I shall be satisfied. +The worst of it is that it will be all over town in an hour that +Bittridge has made up with us. I don't blame father; he couldn't help +it; he never could be rude to anybody." + +"I think I'll try if I can't be rude to Mr. Bittridge, if he ever +undertakes to show in my pretence that he has made it up with us," said +Mary. + +Richard tenderly found out from his father's shamefaced reluctance, +later, that no great mischief had been done. But no precaution on his +part availed to keep Bittridge from demonstrating the good feeling +between himself and the Kentons when the judge started for New York the +next afternoon. He was there waiting to see him off, and he all but took +the adieus out of Richard's hands. He got possession of the judge's +valise, and pressed past the porter into the sleeping-car with it, and +remained lounging on the arm of the judge's seat, making conversation +with him and Richard till the train began to move. Then he ran outside, +and waved his hand to the judge's window in farewell, before all that +leisure of Tuskingum which haunted the arrival and departure of the +trains. + +Mary Kenton was furious when her husband came home and reported the fact +to her. + +"How in the world did he find out when father was going?" + +"He must have come to all the through trains since he say him yesterday. +But I think even you would have been suited, Mary, if you had seen his +failure to walk off from the depot arm-in-arm with me: + +"I wouldn't have been suited with anything short of your knocking, him +down, Dick." + +"Oh, that wouldn't have done," said Richard. After a while he added, +patiently, "Ellen is making a good deal of trouble for us." + +This was what Mary was thinking herself, and it was what she might have +said, but since Dick had said it she was obliged to protest. "She isn't +to blame for it." + +"Oh, I know she isn't to blame." + + + + +V. + +The father of the unhappy girl was of the same mixed mind as he rode +sleeplessly back to New York in his berth, and heard the noises of +slumber all round him. From time to time he groaned softly, and turned +from one cheek to the other. Every half-hour or so he let his window- +curtain fly up, and lay watching the landscape fleeting past; and then he +pulled the curtain down again and tried to sleep. After passing Albany +he dozed, but at Poughkeepsie a zealous porter called him by mistake, and +the rest of the way to New York he sat up in the smoking-room. It seemed +a long while since he had drowsed; the thin nap had not rested him, and +the old face that showed itself in the glass, with the frost of a two +days' beard on it, was dry-eyed and limply squared by the fall of the +muscles at the corners of the chin. + +He wondered how he should justify to his wife the thing which he felt as +accountable for having happened to him as if he could have prevented it. +It would not have happened, of course, if he had not gone to Tuskingum, +and she could say that to him; now it seemed to him that his going, which +had been so imperative before he went, was altogether needless. Nothing +but harm had come of it, and it had been a selfish indulgence of a +culpable weakness. + +It was a little better for Kenton when he found himself with his family, +and they went down together to the breakfast which the mother had engaged +the younger children to make as pleasant as they could for their father, +and not worry him with talk about Tuskingum. They had, in fact, got over +their first season of homesickness, and were postponing their longing for +Tuskingum till their return from Europe, when they would all go straight +out there. Kenton ran the gauntlet of welcome from the black elevator- +boys and bell-boys and the head-waiter, who went before him to pull out +the judge's chair, with commanding frowns to his underlings to do the +like for the rest of the family; and as his own clumsy Irish waiter stood +behind his chair, breathing heavily upon the judge's head, he gave his +order for breakfast, with a curious sense of having got home again from +some strange place. He satisfied Boyne that his pigeons and poultry had +been well cared for through the winter, and he told Lottie that he had +not met much of anybody except Dick's family, before he recollected +seeing half a dozen of her young men at differed times. She was not very +exacting about them and her mind seemed set upon Europe, or at least she +talked of nothing else. Ellen was quiet as she always was, but she +smiled gently on her father, and Mrs. Kenton told him of the girl's +preparations for going, and congratulated herself on their wisdom in +having postponed their sailing, in view of all they had to do; and she +made Kenton feel that everything was in the best possible shape. As soon +as she got him alone in their own room, she said, "Well, what is it, +poppa?" + +Then he had to tell her, and she listened with ominous gravity. She did +not say that now he could see how much better it would have been if he +had not gone, but she made him say it for her; and she would not let him +take comfort in the notion of keeping the fact of his interview with +Bittridge from Ellen. "It would be worse than useless. He will write to +her about it, and then she will know that we have been, concealing it." + +Kenton was astonished at himself for not having thought of that. "And +what are you going to do, Sarah?" + +"I am going to tell her," said Mrs. Kenton. + +"Why didn't poppa tell me before?" the girl perversely demanded, as soon +as her another had done so. + +"Ellen, you are a naughty child! I have a great mind not to have a word +more to say to you. Your father hasn't been in the house an hour. Did +you want him to speak before Lottie and Boyne!" + +"I don't see why he didn't tell me himself. I know there is something +you are keeping back. I know there is some word--" + +"Oh, yon poor girl!" said her mother, melting into pity against all sense +of duty. "Have we ever tried to deceive you?" + +"No," Ellen sobbed, with her face in her hands. "Now I will tell you +every word that passed," said Mrs. Kenton, and she told, as well as she +could remember, all that the judge had repeated from Bittridge. "I don't +say he isn't ashamed of himself," she commented at the end. "He ought to +be, and, of course, he would be glad to be in with us again when we go +back; but that doesn't alter his character, Ellen. Still, if you can't +see that yourself, I don't want to make you, and if you would rather go +home to Tuskingum, we will give up the trip to Europe." + +"It's too late to do that now," said the girl, in cruel reproach. + +Her mother closed her lips resolutely till she could say, "Or you can +write to him if you want to." + +"I don't want to," said Ellen, and she dragged herself up out of her +chair, and trailed slowly out of the room without looking at her mother. + +"Well?" the judge asked, impatiently, when he came in as soon after this +as he decently could. They observed forms with regard to talking about +Ellen which, after all, were rather for themselves than for her; Mrs. +Kenton, at least, knew that the girl knew when they were talking about +her. + +"She took it as well as I expected." + +"What is she going to do?" + +"She didn't say. But I don't believe she will do anything." + +"I wish I had taken our tickets for next Saturday," said Kenton. + +"Well, we must wait now," said his wife. "If he doesn't write to her, +she won't write to him." + +"Has she ever answered that letter of his?" + +"No, and I don't believe she will now." + +That night Ellen came to her mother and said she need not be afraid of +her writing to Bittridge. "He hasn't changed, if he was wrong, by coming +and saying those things to poppa, and nothing has changed." + +"That is the way I hoped you would see it; Ellen." Her mother looked +wistfully at her, but the girl left her without letting her satisfy the +longing in the mother's heart to put her arms round her child, and pull +her head down upon her breast for a cry. + +Kenton slept better that night than his wife, who was kept awake by a +formless foreboding. For the week that followed she had the sense of +literally pushing the hours away, so that at times she found herself +breathless, as if from some heavy physical exertion. At such times she +was frantic with the wish to have the days gone, and the day of their +sailing come, but she kept her impatience from her husband and children, +and especially from Ellen. The girl was passive enough; she was almost +willing, and in the preparation for their voyage she did her share of the +shopping, and discussed the difficult points of this business with her +mother and sister as if she had really been thinking about it all. But +her mother doubted if she had, and made more of Ellen's sunken eyes and +thin face than of her intelligent and attentive words. It was these that +she reported to her husband, whom she kept from talking with Ellen, and +otherwise quelled. + +"Let her alone," she insisted, one morning of the last week. "What can +you do by speaking to her about it? Don't you see that she is making the +best fight she can? You will weaken her if you interfere. It's less +than a week now, and if you can only hold out, I know she can." + +Kenton groaned. "Well, I suppose you're right, Sarah. But I don't like +the idea of forcing her to go, unless--" + +"Then you had better write to that fellow, and ask him to come and get +her." + +This shut Kenton's mouth, and he kept on with his shaving. When he had +finished he felt fresher, if not stronger, and he went down to breakfast, +which he had alone, not only with reference to his own family, but all +the other guests of the hotel. He was always so early that sometimes the +dining-room was not open; when this happened, he used to go and buy a +newspaper at the clerk's desk, for it was too early then for the news- +stand to be open. It happened so that morning, and he got his paper +without noticing the young man who was writing his name in the hotel +register, but who looked briskly up when the clerk bade Kenton good- +morning by name. + +"Why, judge!" he said, and he put out a hand which Kenton took with +trembling reluctance and a dazed stare. "I thought you sailed last +Saturday!" + +"We sail next Saturday," said Kenton. + +"Well, well! Then I misunderstood," said Bittridge, and he added: "Why, +this is money found in the road! How are all the family? I've got my +mother here with me; brought her on for a kind of a little outing. +She'll be the most surprised woman in New York when I tell her you're +here yet. We came to this hotel because we knew you had been here, but +we didn't suppose you were here! Well! This is too good! I saw Dick, +Friday, but he didn't say anything about your sailing; I suppose he +thought I knew. Didn't you tell me you were going in a week, that day in +your house?" + +"Perhaps I did," Kenton faltered out, his eyes fixed on Bittridge's with +a helpless fascination. + +"Well, it don't matter so long as you're here. Mother's in the parlor +waiting for me; I won't risk taking you to her now, judge--right off the +train, you know. But I want to bring her to call on Mrs. Kenton as soon +after breakfast as you'll let me. She just idolizes Mrs. Kenton, from +what I've told her about her. Our rooms ready?" He turned to the clerk, +and the clerk called " Front!" to a bellboy, who ran up and took +Bittridge's hand-baggage, and stood waiting to follow him into the +parlor. "Well, you must excuse me now, judge. So long!" he said, gayly, +and Kenton crept feebly away to the dining-room. + +He must have eaten breakfast, but he was not aware of doing so; and the +events of his leaving the table and going up in the elevator and finding +himself in his wife's presence did not present themselves consecutively, +though they must all have successively occurred. It did not seem to him +that he could tell what he knew, but he found himself doing it, and her +hearing it with strange quiet. + +"Very well," she said. "I must tell Ellen, and, if she wishes, we must +stay in and wait for their call." + +"Yes," the judge mechanically consented. + +It was painful for Mrs. Kenton to see how the girl flushed when she +announced the fact of Bittridge's presence, for she knew what a strife of +hope and shame and pride there was in Ellen's heart. At first she said +that she did not wish to see him, and then when Mrs. Kenton would not say +whether she had better see him or not, she added, vaguely, "If he has +brought his mother--" + +"I think we must see them, Ellen. You wouldn't wish to think you had +been unkind; and he might be hurt on his mother's account. He seems +really fond of her, and perhaps--" + +"No, there isn't any perhaps, momma," said the girl, gratefully. "But I +think we had better see them, too. I think we had better ALL see them." + +"Just as you please, Ellen. If you prefer to meet them alone--" + +"I don't prefer that. I want poppa to be there, and Lottie and Boyne +even." + +Boyne objected when he was told that his presence was requested at this +family rite, and he would have excused himself if the invitation had been +of the form that one might decline. "What do I want to see him for?" he +puffed. "He never cared anything about me in Tuskingum. What's he want +here, anyway?" + +"I wish you to come in, my son," said his mother, and that ended it. + +Lottie was not so tractable. "Very well, momma," she said. "But don't +expect me to speak to him. I have some little self-respect, if the rest +of you haven't. Am I going to shake hands with him! I never took the +least notice of him at home, and I'm not going to here." + +Bittridge decided the question of hand-shaking for her when they met. He +greeted her glooming brother with a jolly "Hello, Boyne!" and without +waiting for the boy's tardy response he said "Hello, Lottie!" to the +girl, and took her hand and kept it in his while he made an elaborate +compliment to her good looks and her gain in weight. She had come +tardily as a proof that she would not have come in at all if she had not +chosen to do so, and Mrs. Bittridge was already seated beside Ellen on +the sofa, holding her hand, and trying to keep her mobile, inattentive +eyes upon Ellen's face. She was a little woman, youthfully dressed, but +not dressed youthfully enough for the dry, yellow hair which curled +tightly in small rings on her skull, like the wig of a rag-doll. Her +restless eyes were round and deep-set, with the lids flung up out of +sight; she had a lax, formless mouth, and an anxious smile, with which +she constantly watched her son for his initiative, while she recollected +herself from time to time, long enough to smooth Ellen's hand between her +own, and say, "Oh, I just think the world of Clarence; and I guess he +thinks his mother is about right, too," and then did not heed what Ellen +answered. + +The girl said very little, and it was Bittridge who talked for all, +dominating the room with a large, satisfied presence, in which the judge +sat withdrawn, his forehead supported on his hand, and his elbow on the +table. Mrs. Kenton held herself upright, with her hands crossed before +her, stealing a look now and then at her daughter's averted face, but +keeping her eyes from Mrs. Bittridge, who, whenever she caught Mrs. +Kenton's glance, said something to her about her Clarence, and how he +used to write home to her at Ballardsville about the Kentons, so that she +felt acquainted with all of them. Her reminiscences were perfunctory; +Mrs. Bittridge had voluntarily but one topic, and that was herself, +either as she was included in the interest her son must inspire, or as +she included him in the interest she must inspire. She said that, now +they had met at last, she was not going to rest till the Kentons had been +over to Ballardsville, and made her a good, long visit; her son had some +difficulty in making her realize that the Kentons were going to Europe. +Then she laughed, and said she kept forgetting; and she did wish they +were all coming back to Tuskingum. + +If it is a merit to treat a fatuous mother with deference, Bittridge had +that merit. His deference was of the caressing and laughing sort, which +took the spectator into the joke of her peculiarities as something they +would appreciate and enjoy with him. She had been a kittenish and petted +person in her youth, perhaps, and now she petted herself, after she had +long ceased to be a kitten. What was respectable and what was pathetic +in her was her wish to promote her son's fortunes with the Kentons, but +she tried to do this from not a very clear understanding of her part, +apparently, and little sense of the means. For Ellen's sake, rather than +hers, the father and mother received her overtures to their liking +kindly; they answered her patiently, and Mrs. Kenton even tried to lead +the way for her to show herself at her best, by talking of her journey on +to New York, and of the city, and what she would see there to interest +her. Lottie and Boyne, sternly aloof together in one of their momentary +alliances, listened to her replies with a silent contempt that almost +included their mother; Kenton bore with the woman humbly and sadly. + +He was, in fact, rather bewildered with the situation, for which he felt +himself remotely if not immediately responsible. Bittridge was there +among them not only on good terms, but apparently in the character of a +more than tolerated pretendant to Ellen's favor. There were passages of +time is which the father was not sure that the fellow was not engaged to +his daughter, though when these instants were gone he was aware that +there had been no overt love-making between them and Bittridge had never +offered himself. What was he doing there, then? The judge asked himself +that, without being able to answer himself. So far as he could make out, +his wife and he were letting him see Ellen, and show her off to his +mother, mainly to disgust her with them both, and because they were +afraid that if they denied her to him, it would be the worse for them +through her suffering. The judge was not accustomed to apply the tests +by which people are found vulgar or not; these were not of his simple +world; all that he felt about Mrs. Bittridge was that she was a very +foolish, false person, who was true in nothing but her admiration of her +rascal of a son; he did not think of Bittridge as a rascal violently, but +helplessly, and with a heart that melted in pity for Ellen. + +He longed to have these people gone, not so much because he was so +unhappy in their presence as because he wished to learn Ellen's feeling +about them from his wife. She would know, whether Allen said anything to +her or not. But perhaps if Mrs. Kenton had been asked to deliver her +mind on this point at once she would have been a little puled. All that +she could see, and she saw it with a sinking of the heart, was that Ellen +looked more at peace than she had been since Bittridge was last in their +house at Tuskingum. Her eyes covertly followed him as he sat talking, or +went about the room, making himself at home among them, as if he were +welcome with every one. He joked her more than the rest, and accused her +of having become a regular New-Yorker; he said he supposed that when she +came back from Europe she would not know anybody in Tuskingum; and his +mother, playing with Ellen's fingers, as if they had been the fringe of a +tassel, declared that she must not mind him, for he carried on just so +with everybody; at the same time she ordered him to stop, or she would go +right out of the room. + +She gave no other sign of going, and it was her son who had to make the +movement for her at last; she apparently did not know that it was her +part to make it. She said that now the Kentons must come and return her +call, and be real neighborly, just the same as if they were all at home +together. When her son shook hands with every one she did so too, and +she said to each, "Well, I wish you good-morning," and let him push her +before him, in high delight with the joke, out of the room. + +When they were gone the Kentons sat silent, Ellen with a rapt smile on +her thin, flushed face, till Lottie said, "You forgot to ask him if we +might BREATHE, poppa," and paced out of the room in stately scorn, +followed by Boyne, who had apparently no words at the command of his dumb +rage. Kenton wished to remain, and he looked at his wife for +instruction. She frowned, and he took this for a sign that he had better +go, and he went with a light sigh. + +He did not know what else to do with himself, and he went down to the +reading-room. He found Bittridge there, smoking a cigar, and the young +man companionably offered to bestow one upon him; but the judge stiffly +refused, saying he did not wish to smoke just then. He noted that +Bittridge was still in his character of family favorite, and his hand +trembled as he passed it over the smooth knob of his stick, while he sat +waiting for the fellow to take himself away. But Bittridge had +apparently no thought of going. He was looking at the amusements for the +evening in a paper he had bought, and he wished to consult the judge as +to which was the best theatre to go to that night; he said he wanted to +take his mother. Kenton professed not to know much about the New York +theatres, and then Bittridge guessed he must get the clerk to tell him. +But still he did not part with the judge. He sat down beside him, and +told him how glad he was to see his family looking so well, especially +Miss Ellen; he could not remember ever seeing her so strong-looking. He +said that girl had captured his mother, who was in love with pretty much +the whole Kenton family, though. + +"And by-the-way," he added, "I want to thank you and Mrs. Kenton, judge, +for the way you received my mother. You made her feel that she was among +friends. She can't talk about anything else, and I guess I sha'n't have +much trouble in making her stay in New York as long as you're here. She +was inclined to be homesick. The fact is, though I don't care to have it +talked about yet, and I wish you wouldn't say anything to Dick about it +when you write home, I think of settling in New York. I've been offered +a show in the advertising department of one of the big dailies--I'm not +at liberty to say which--and it's a toss-up whether I stay here or go to +Washington; I've got a chance there, too, but it's on the staff of a new +enterprise, and I'm not sure about it. I've brought my mother along to +let her have a look at both places, though she doesn't know it, and I'd +rather you wouldn't speak of it before her; I'm going to take her on to +Washington before we go back. I want to have my mother with me, judge. +It's better for a fellow to have that home-feeling in a large place from +the start; it keeps him out of a lot of things, and I don't pretend to be +better than other people, or not more superhuman. If I've been able to +keep out of scrapes, it's more because I've had my mother near me, and I +don't intend ever to be separated from her, after this, till I have a +home of my own. She's been the guiding-star of my life." + +Kenton was unable to make any formal response, and, in fact, he was so +preoccupied with the question whether the fellow was more a fool or a +fraud that he made no answer at all, beyond a few inarticulate grumblings +of assent. These sufficed for Bittridge, apparently, for he went on +contentedly: "Whenever I've been tempted to go a little wild, the thought +of how mother would feel has kept me on the track like nothing else +would. No, judge, there isn't anything in this world like a good mother, +except the right kind of a wife." + +Kenton rose, and said he believed he must go upstairs. Bittridge said, +"All right; I'll see you later, judge," and swung easily off to advise +with the clerk as to the best theatre. + + + + +VI. + +Kenton was so unhappy that he could not wait for his wife to come to him +in their own room; he broke in upon her and Ellen in the parlor, and at +his coming the girl flitted out, in the noiseless fashion which of late +had made her father feel something ghostlike in her. He was afraid she +was growing to dislike him, and trying to avoid him, and now he presented +himself quite humbly before his wife, as if he had done wrong in coming. +He began with a sort of apology for interrupting, but his wife said it +was all right, and she added, "We were not talking about anything in +particular." She was silent, and then she added again: "Sometimes I +think Ellen hasn't very fine perceptions, after all. She doesn't seem to +feel about people as I supposed she would." + +"You mean that she doesn't feel as you would suppose about those people?" + +Mrs. Kenton answered, obliquely. "She thinks it's a beautiful thing in +him to be so devoted to his mother." + +"Humph! And what does she think of his mother?" + +"She thinks she has very pretty hair." + +Mrs. Kenton looked gravely down at the work she had in her hands, and +Kenton did not know what to make of it all. He decided that his wife +must feel, as he did, a doubt of the child's sincerity, with sense of her +evasiveness more tolerant than his own. Yet he knew that if it came to a +question of forcing Ellen to do what was best for her, or forbidding her +to do what was worst, his wife would have all the strength for the work, +and he none. He asked her, hopelessly enough, "Do you think she still +cares for him?" + +"I think she wishes to give him another trial; I hope she will." Kenton +was daunted, and he showed it. "She has got to convince herself, and we +have got to let her. She believes, of course, that he's here on her +account, and that flatters her. Why should she be so different from +other girls?" Mrs. Kenton demanded of the angry protest in her husband's +eye. + +His spirit fell, and he said, "I only wish she were more like them." + +"Well, then, she is just as headstrong and as silly, when it comes to a +thing like this. Our only hope is to let her have her own way." + +"Do you suppose he cares for her, after all?" + +Mrs. Kenton was silent, as if in exhaustive self-question. Then she +answered: "No, I don't in that way. But he believes he can get her." + +"Then, Sarah, I think we have a duty to the poor child. You must tell +her what you have told me." + +Mrs. Kenton smiled rather bitterly, in recognition of the fact that the +performance of their common duty must fall wholly to her. But she merely +said: "There is no need of my telling her. She knows it already." + +"And she would take him in spite of knowing that he didn't really care +for her?" + +"I don't say that. She wouldn't own it to herself." + +"And what are you going to do?" + +"Nothing. We must let things take their course." + +They had a great deal more talk that came to the same end. They played +their sad comedy, he in the part of a father determined to save his child +from herself, and she in hers of resisting and withholding him. It ended +as it had so often ended before--he yielded, with more faith in her +wisdom than she had herself. + +At luncheon the Bittridges could not join the Kentons, or be asked to do +so, because the table held only four, but they stopped on their way to +their own table, the mother to bridle and toss in affected reluctance, +while the son bragged how he had got the last two tickets to be had that +night for the theatre where he was going to take his mother. He seemed +to think that the fact had a special claim on the judge's interest, and +she to wish to find out whether Mrs. Kenton approved of theatre-going. +She said she would not think of going in Ballardsville, but she supposed +it was more rulable in New York. + +During the afternoon she called at the Kenton apartment to consult the +ladies about what she ought to wear. She said she had nothing but a +black 'barege' along, and would that do with the hat she had on? She had +worn it to let them see, and now she turned her face from aide to side to +give them the effect of the plumes, that fell like a dishevelled feather- +duster round and over the crown. Mrs. Kenton could only say that it +would do, but she believed that it was the custom now for ladies to take +their hats off in the theatre. + +Mrs. Bittridge gave a hoarse laugh. "Oh, dear! Then I'll have to fix my +hair two ways? I don't know what Clarence WILL say." + +The mention of her son's name opened the way for her to talk of him in +relation to herself, and the rest of her stay passed in the celebration +of his filial virtues, which had been manifest from the earliest period. +She could not remember that she ever had to hit the child a lick, she +said, or that he had ever made her shed a tear. + +When she went, Boyne gloomily inquired, "What makes her hair so much +darker at the roots than it is at the points?" and his mother snubbed him +promptly. + +"You had no business to be here, Boyne. I don't like boys hanging about +where ladies are talking together, and listening." + +This did not prevent Lottie from answering, directly for Boyne, and +indirectly for Ellen, "It's because it's begun to grow since the last +bleach." + +It was easier to grapple with Boyne than with Lottie, ,and Mrs. Kenton +was willing to allow her to leave the room with her brother unrebuked. +She was even willing to have had the veil lifted from Mrs. Bittridge's +hair with a rude hand, if it world help Ellen. + +"I don't want you to think, momma," said the girl, "that I didn't know +about her hair, or that I don't see how silly she is. But it's all the +more to his credit if he can be so good to her, and admire her. Would +yon like him better if he despised her?" + +Mrs. Kenton felt both the defiance and the secret shame from which it +sprang in her daughter's words; and she waited for a moment before she +answered, "I would like to be sure he didn't!" + +"If he does, and if he hides it from her, it's the same as if he didn't; +it's better. But you all wish to dislike him." + +"We don't wish to dislike him, Ellen, goodness knows. But I don't think +he would care much whether we disliked him or not. I am sure your poor +father and I would be only too glad to like him." + +"Lottie wouldn't," said Ellen, with a resentment her mother found +pathetic, it was so feeble and aimless. + +"Lottie doesn't matter," she said. She could not make out how nearly +Ellen was to sharing the common dislike, or how far she would go in +fortifying herself against it. She kept with difficulty to her negative +frankness, and she let the girl leave the room with a fretful sigh, as if +provoked that her mother would not provoke her further. There were +moments when Mrs. Kenton believed that Ellen was sick of her love, and +that she would pluck it out of her heart herself if she were left alone. +She was then glad Bittridge had come, so that Ellen might compare with +the reality the counterfeit presentment she had kept in her fancy; and +she believed that if she could but leave him to do his worst, it would be +the best for Ellen. + +In the evening, directly after dinner, Bittridge sent up his name for +Mrs. Kenton. The judge had remained to read his paper below, and Lottie +and Boyne had gone to some friends in another apartment. It seemed to +Mrs. Kenton a piece of luck that she should be able to see him alone, and +she could not have said that she was unprepared for him to come in, +holding his theatre-tickets explanatorily in his hand, or surprised when +he began: + +"Mrs. Kenton, my mother's got a bad headache, and I've come to ask a +favor of you. She can't use her ticket for to-night, and I want you to +let Miss Ellen come with me. Will you?" + +Bittridge had constituted himself an old friend of the whole family from +the renewal of their acquaintance, and Mrs. Kenton was now made aware of +his being her peculiar favorite, in spite of the instant repulsion she +felt, she was not averse to what he proposed. Her fear was that Ellen +would be so, or that she could keep from influencing her to this test of +her real feeling for Bittridge. "I will ask her, Mr. Bittridge," she +said, with a severity which was a preliminary of the impartiality she +meant to use with Ellen. + +"Well, that's right," he answered, and while she went to the girl's room +he remained examining the details of the drawing-room decorations in easy +security, which Mrs. Kenton justified on her return. + +"Ellen will be ready to go with you, Mr. Bittridge." + +"Well, that's good," said the young man, and while he talked on she sat +wondering at a nature which all modesty and deference seemed left out of, +though he had sometimes given evidence of his intellectual appreciation +of these things. He talked to Mrs. Kenton not only as if they were in +every-wise equal, but as if they were of the same age, almost of the same +sex. + +Ellen came in, cloaked and hatted, with her delicate face excited in +prospect of the adventure; and her mother saw Bittridge look at her with +more tenderness than she had ever seen in him before. "I'll take good +care of her, Mrs. Kenton," he said, and for the first time she felt +herself relent a little towards him. + +A minute after they were gone Lottie bounced into the room, followed by +Boyne. + +"Momma!" she shouted, "Ellen isn't going to the theatre with that +fellow?" + +"Yes, she is." + +"And you let her, momma! Without a chaperon?" + +Boyne's face had mirrored the indignation in his sister's, but at this +unprecedented burst of conventionality he forgot their momentary +alliance. "Well, you're a pretty one to talk about chaperons! Walking +all over Tuskingum with fellows at night, and going buggy-riding with +everybody, and out rowing, and here fairly begging Jim Plumpton to come +down to the steamer and see you off again!" + +"Shut up!" Lottie violently returned, "or I'll tell momma how you've +been behaving with Rita Plumpton yourself." + +"Well, tell!" Boyne defied her. + +"Oh, it don't matter what a brat of a boy says or does, anyway," said +Lottie. "But I think Ellen is disgracing the family. Everybody in the +hotel is laughing at that wiggy old Mrs. Bittridge, with her wobbly eyes, +and they can see that he's just as green! The Plumptons have been +laughing so about them, and I told them that we had nothing to do with +them at home, and had fairly turned Bittridge out of the house, but he +had impudence enough for anything; and now to find Ellen going off to the +theatre with him alone!" + +Lottie began to cry with vexation as she whipped out of the room, and +Boyne, who felt himself drawn to her side again, said, very seriously: +"Well, it ain't the thing in New York, you know, momma; and anybody can +see what a jay Bittridge is. I think it's too bad to let her." + +"It isn't for you to criticise your mother, Boyne," said Mrs. Kenton, but +she was more shaken than she would allow. Her own traditions were so +simple that the point of etiquette which her children had urged had not +occurred to her. The question whether Ellen should go with Bittridge at +all being decided, she would, of course, go in New York as she would go +in Tuskingum. Now Mrs. Kenton perceived that she must not, and she had +her share of humiliation in the impression which his mother, as her +friend, apparently, was making with her children's acquaintances in the +hotel. If they would think everybody in Tuskingum was like her, it would +certainly be very unpleasant, but she would not quite own this to +herself, still less to a fourteen-year-old boy. "I think what your +father and I decide to be right will be sufficient excuse for you with +your friends." + +"Does father know it?" Boyne asked, most unexpectedly. + +Having no other answer ready, Mrs. Kenton said, "You had better go to +bed, my son." + +"Well," he grumbled, as he left the room, "I don't know where all the +pride of the Kentons is gone to." + +In his sense of fallen greatness he attempted to join Lottie in her room, +but she said, "Go away, nasty thing!" and Boyne was obliged to seek his +own room, where he occupied himself with a contrivance he was inventing +to enable you to close your door and turn off your gas by a system of +pulleys without leaving your bed, when you were tired of reading. + +Mrs. Kenton waited for her husband in much less comfort, and when he +came, and asked, restlessly, "Where are the children?" she first told +him that Lottie and Boyne were in their rooms before she could bring +herself to say that Ellen had gone to the theatre with Bittridge. + +It was some relief to have him take it in the dull way he did, and to say +nothing worse than, "Did you think it was well to have her!" + +"You may be sure I didn't want her to. But what would she have said if I +had refused to let her go? I can tell you it isn't an easy matter to +manage her in this business, and it's very easy for you to criticise, +without taking the responsibility." + +"I'm not criticising," said Kenton. "I know you have acted for the best." + +"The children," said Mrs. Kenton, wishing to be justified further, "think +she ought to have had a chaperon. I didn't think of that; it isn't the +custom at home; but Lottie was very saucy about it, and I had to send +Boyne to bed. I don't think our children are very much comfort to us." + +"They are good children," Kenton said, said--provisionally. + +"Yes, that is the worst of it. If they were bad, we wouldn't expect any +comfort from them. Ellen is about perfect. She's as near an angel as a +child can be, but she could hardly have given us more anxiety if she had +been the worst girl in the world." + +"That's true," the father sadly assented. + +"She didn't really want to go with him to-night, I'll say that for her, +and if I had said a single word against it she wouldn't have gone. But +all at once, while she sat there trying to think how I could excuse her, +she began asking me what she should wear. There's something strange +about it, Rufus. If I believed in hypnotism, I should say she had gone +because he willed her to go." + +"I guess she went because she wanted to go because she's in love with +him," said Kenton, hopelessly. + +"Yes," Mrs. Kenton agreed. "I don't see how she can endure the sight of +him. He's handsome enough," she added, with a woman's subjective logic. +"And there's something fascinating about him. He's very graceful, and +he's got a good figure." + +"He's a hound!" said Kenton, exhaustively. + +"Oh yes, he's a hound," she sighed, as if there could be no doubt on that +point. "It don't seem right for him to be in the same room with Ellen. +But it's for her to say. I feel more and more that we can't interfere +without doing harm. I suppose that if she were not so innocent herself +she would realize what he was better. But I do think he appreciates her +innocence. He shows more reverence for her than for any one else." + +"How was it his mother didn't go?" asked Kenton. + +"She had a headache, he said. But I don't believe that. He always +intended to get Ellen to go. And that's another thing Lottie was vexed +about; she says everybody is laughing at Mrs. Bittridge, and it's +mortifying to have people take her for a friend of ours." + +"If there were nothing worse than that," said Kenton, " I guess we could +live through it. Well, I don't know how it's going to all end." + +They sat talking sadly, but finding a certain comfort in their mutual +discouragement, and in their knowledge that they were doing the best they +could for their child, whose freedom they must not infringe so far as to +do what was absolutely best; and the time passed not so heavily till her +return. This was announced by the mounting of the elevator to their +landing, and then by low, rapid pleading in a man's voice outside. +Kenton was about to open the door, when there came the formless noise of +what seemed a struggle, and Ellen's voice rose in a muffed cry: "Oh! Oh! +Let me be! Go away! I hate you!" Kenton the door open, and Ellen burst +in, running to hide her face in her mother's breast, where she sobbed +out, "He--he kissed me!" like a terrified child more than an insulted +woman. Through the open door came the clatter of Bittridge's feet as he +ran down-stairs. + + + + +VII. + +When Mrs. Kenton came from quieting the hysterical girl in her room she +had the task, almost as delicate and difficult, of quieting her husband. +She had kept him, by the most solemn and exhaustive entreaty, from +following Bittridge downstairs and beating him with his stick, and now +she was answerable to him for his forbearance. "If yon don't behave +yourself, Rufus," she had to say, "you will have some sort of stroke. +After all, there's no harm done." + +"No harm! Do you call it no harm for that hound to kiss Ellen?" + +"He wouldn't have attempted it unless something had led up to it, I +suppose." + +"Sarah! How can you speak so of that angel?" + +"Oh, that angel is a girl like the rest. You kissed me before we were +engaged." + +"That was very different." + +"I don't see how. If your daughter is so sacred, why wasn't her mother? +You men don't think your wives are sacred. That's it!" + +"No, no, Sarah! It's because I don't think of you as apart from myself, +that I can't think of you as I do of Ellen. I beg your pardon if I +seemed to set her above you. But when I kissed you we were very young, +and we lived in a simple day, when such things meant no harm; and I was +very fond of you, and you were the holiest thing in the world to me. Is +Ellen holy to that fellow?" + +"I know," Mrs. Kenton relented. "I'm not comparing him to you. And +there is a difference with Ellen. She isn't like other girls. If it had +been Lottie--" + +"I shouldn't have liked it with Lottie, either," said the major, stiffly. +"But if it had been Lottie she would have boxed his ears for him, instead +of running to you. Lottie can take care of herself. And I will take +care of Ellen. When I see that scoundrel in the morning--" + +"What will you do, an old man like you! I can tell you, it's something +you've just got to bear it if you don't want the scandal to fill the +whole hotel. It's a very fortunate thing, after all. It'll put an end +to the whole affair." + +"Do you think so, Sarah? If I believed that. What does Ellen say?" + +"Nothing; she won't say anything--just cries and hides her face. +I believe she is ashamed of having made a scene before us. But I know +that she's so disgusted with him that she will never look at him again, +and if it's brought her to that I should think his kissing her the +greatest blessing in the world to us all. Yes, Ellen!" + +Mrs. Kenton hurried off at a faint call from the girl's room, and when +she came again she sat down to a long discussion of the situation with +her husband, while she slowly took down her hair and prepared it for the +night. Her conclusion, which she made her husband's, was that it was +most fortunate they should be sailing so soon, and that it was the +greatest pity they were not sailing in the morning. She wished him to +sleep, whether she slept herself or not, and she put the most hopeful +face possible upon the matter. "One thing you can rest assured of, +Rufus, and that is that it's all over with Ellen. She may never speak to +you about him, and you mustn't ever mention him, but she feels just as +you could wish. Does that satisfy you? Some time I will tell you all +she says." + +"I don't care to hear," said Kenton. "All I want is for him to keep away +from me. I think if he spoke to me I should kill him." + +"Rufus!" + +"I can't help it, Sarah. I feel outraged to the bottom of my soul. I +could kill him." + +Mrs. Kenton turned her head and looked steadfastly at him over her +shoulder. "If you strike him, if you touch him, Mr. Kenton, you will +undo everything that the abominable wretch has done for Ellen, and you +will close my mouth and tie my hands. Will you promise that under no +provocation whatever will you do him the least harm? I know Ellen better +than you do, and I know that you will make her hate you unless--" + +"Oh, I will promise. You needn't be afraid. Lord help me!" Kenton +groaned. "I won't touch him. But don't expect me to speak to him." + +"No, I don't expect that. He won't offer to speak to you." + +They slept, and in the morning she stayed to breakfast with Ellen in +their apartment, and let her husband go down with their younger children. +She could trust him now, whatever form his further trial should take, and +he felt that he was pledging himself to her anew, when Bittridge came +hilariously to meet him in the reading-room, where he went for a paper +after breakfast. + +"Ah, judge!" said the young man, gayly. "Hello, Boyne!" he added to +the boy, who had come with his father; Lottie had gone directly up-stairs +from the breakfast-room. "I hope you're all well this morning? Play not +too much for Miss Ellen?" + +Kenton looked him in the face without answering, and then tried to get +away from him, but Bittridge followed him up, talking, and ignoring his +silence. + +"It was a splendid piece, judge. You must take Mrs. Kenton. I know +you'll both like it. I haven't ever seen Miss Ellen so interested. I +hope the walk home didn't fatigue her. I wanted to get a cab, but she +would walk: The judge kept moving on, with his head down. He did not +speak, and Bittridge was forced to notice his silence. "Nothing the +matter, I hope, with Miss Ellen, judge?" + +"Go away," said the judge, in a low voice, fumbling the head of his +stick. + +"Why, what's up?" asked Bittridge, and he managed to get in front of +Kenton and stay him at a point where Kenton could not escape. It was a +corner of the room to which the old man had aimlessly tended, with no +purpose but to avoid him: + +"I wish you to let me alone, sir," said Kenton at last. "I can't speak +to you." + +"I understand what you mean, judge," said Bittridge, with a grin, all the +more maddening because it seemed involuntary. "But I can explain +everything. I just want a few words with you. It's very important; it's +life or death with me, sir," he said, trying to look grave. "Will you +let me go to your rooms with you?" + +Kenton made no reply. + +Bittridge began to laugh. "Then let's sit down here, or in the ladies' +parlor. It won't take me two minutes to make everything right. If you +don't believe I'm in earnest I know you don't think I am, but I can +assure you--Will you let me speak with you about Miss Ellen?" + +Still Kenton did not answer, shutting his lips tight, and remembering his +promise to his wife. + +Bittridge laughed, as if in amusement at what he had done. "Judge, let +me say two words to you in private! If you can't now, tell me when you +can. We're going back this evening, mother and I are; she isn't well, +and I'm not going to take her to Washington. I don't want to go leaving +you with the idea that I wanted to insult Miss Ellen. I care too much +for her. I want to see you and Mrs. Kenton about it. I do, indeed. And +won't you let me see you, somewhere?" + +Kenton looked away, first to one side and then to another, and seemed +stifling. + +"Won't you speak to me! Won't you answer me? See here! I'd get down on +my knees to you if it would do you any good. Where will you talk with +me?" + +"Nowhere!" shouted Kenton. "Will you go away, or shall I strike you +with my stick?" + +"Oh, I don't think," said Bittridge, and suddenly, in the wantonness of +his baffled effrontery, he raised his hand and rubbed the back of it in +the old man's face. + +Boyne Kenton struck wildly at him, and Bittridge caught the boy by the +arm and flung him to his knees on the marble floor. The men reading in +the arm-chairs about started to their feet; a porter came running, and +took hold of Bittridge. "Do you want an officer, Judge Kenton?" he +panted. + +"No, no!" Kenton answered, choking and trembling. "Don't arrest him. +I wish to go to my rooms, that's all. Let him go. Don't do anything +about it." + +"I'll help you, judge," said the porter. "Take hold of this fellow," he +said to two other porters who came up. "Take him to the desk, and tell +the clerk he struck Judge Kenton, but the judge don't want him arrested." + +Before Kenton reached the elevator with Boyne, who was rubbing his knees +and fighting back the tears, he heard the clerk's voice saying, formally, +to the porters, "Baggage out of 35 and 37" and adding, as mechanically, +to Bittridge: "Your rooms are wanted. Get out of them at once!" + +It seemed the gathering of neighborhood about Kenton, where he had felt +himself so unfriended, against the outrage done him, and he felt the +sweetness of being personally championed in a place where he had thought +himself valued merely for the profit that was in him; his eyes filled, +and his voice failed him in thanking the elevator-boy for running before +him to ring the bell of his apartment. + + + + +VIII. + +The next day, in Tuskingum, Richard, Kenton found among the letters of +his last mail one which he easily knew to be from his sister Lottie, by +the tightly curled-up handwriting, and by the unliterary look of the +slanted and huddled address of the envelope: The only doubt he could have +felt in opening it was from the unwonted length at which she had written +him; Lottie usually practised a laconic brevity in her notes, which were +suited to the poverty of her written vocabulary rather than the affluence +of her spoken word. + + "Dear Dick" [her letter ran, tripping and stumbling in its course], + "I have got to tell you about something that has just happened here, + and you needent laugh at the speling, or the way I tell it, but just + pay attention to the thing itself, if you please. That disgusting + Bittridge has been here with his horrid wiggy old mother, and momma + let him take Ellen to the theatre. On the way home he tried to make + her promise she would marry him and at the door he kissed her. They + had an awful night with her hiseterics, and I heard momma going in + and out, and trying to comfort her till daylight, nearly. In the + morning I went down with poppy and Boyne to breakfast, and after I + came up, father went to the reading-room to get a paper, and that + Bittridge was there waiting for him, and wanted to speak with him + about Ellen. Poppa wouldent say a word to him, and he kept + following poppa up, to make him. Boyne says be wouldent take no for + an ansir, and hung on and hungon, till poppa threatened to hitt him + with his cane. Then he saw it was no use, and he took his hand and + rubbed it in poppa's face, and Boyne believes he was trying to pull + poppa's nose. Boyne acted like I would have done; he pounded + Bittridge in the back; but of course Bittridge was too strong for + him, and threw him on the floor, and Boyne scraped his knee so that + it bledd. Then the porters came up, and caught Bittridge, and + wanted to send for a policeman, but father wouldent let them, and + the porters took Bittridge to the desk and the clerk told him to get + out instantly and they left as soon as old Wiggy could get her + things on. I don't know where they went, but he told poppa they + were going home to-day any way. Now, Dick, I don't know what you + will want to do, and I am not going to put you up to anything, but I + know what I would do, pretty well, the first time Bittridge showed + himself in Tuskingum. You can do just as you please, and I don't + ask you to believe me if you're think I'm so exciteable that I cant + tell the truth. I guess Boyne will say the same. Much love to + Mary. Your affectionate sister, + "Lottie. + + "P. S.--Every word Lottie says is true, but I am not sure he meant + to pull his nose. The reason why he threw me down so easily is, I + have grown about a foot, and I have not got up my strength. BOYNE. + + "This is strictly confidential. They don't know we + are writing. LATTIE." + + +After reading this letter, Richard Kenton tore it into small pieces, so +that there should not be even so much witness as it bore to facts that +seemed to fill him with fury to the throat. His fury was, in agreement +with his temperament, the white kind and cold kind. He was able to keep +it to himself for that reason; at supper his wife knew merely that he had +something on his mind that he did not wish to talk of; and experience had +taught her that it would be useless to try making him speak. + +He slept upon his wrath, and in the morning early, at an hour when he +knew there would be no loafers in the place, he went to an out-dated +saddler's shop, and asked the owner, a veteran of his father's regiment, +"Welks, do you happen to have a cowhide among your antiquities?" + +"Regular old style?" Welks returned. "Kind they make out of a cow's +hide and use on a man's?" + +"Something of that sort," said Richard, with a slight smile. + +The saddler said nothing more, but rummaged among the riff-raff on an +upper shelf. He got down with the tapering, translucent, wicked-looking +thing in his hand. "I reckon that's what you're after, squire." + +"Reckon it is, Welks," said Richard, drawing it through his tubed left +hand. Then he buttoned it under his coat, and paid the quarter which +Welks said had always been the price of a cowhide even since he could +remember, and walked away towards the station. + +"How's the old colonel" Welks called after him, having forgotten to ask +before. + +"The colonel's all right," Richard called back, without looking round. + +He walked up and down in front of the station. A local train came in +from Ballardsville at 8.15, and waited for the New York special, and then +returned to Ballardsville. Richard had bought a ticket for that station, +and was going to take the train back, but among the passengers who +descended from it when it drew in was one who saved him the trouble of +going. + +Bittridge, with his overcoat hanging on his arm, advanced towards him +with the rest, and continued to advance, in a sort of fascination, after +his neighbors, with the instinct that something was about to happen, +parted on either side of Richard, and left the two men confronted. +Richard did not speak, but deliberately reached out his left hand, which +he caught securely into Bittridge's collar; then he began to beat him +with the cowhide wherever he could strike his writhing and twisting +shape. Neither uttered a word, and except for the whir of the cowhide in +the air, and the rasping sound of its arrest upon the body of Bittridge, +the thing was done in perfect silence. The witnesses stood well back in +a daze, from which they recovered when Richard released Bittridge with a +twist of the hand that tore his collar loose and left his cravat +dangling, and tossed the frayed cowhide away, and turned and walked +homeward. Then one of them picked up Bittridge's hat and set it aslant +on his head, and others helped pull his collar together and tie his +cravat. + +For the few moments that Richard Kenton remained in sight they scarcely +found words coherent enough for question, and when they did, Bittridge +had nothing but confused answers to give to the effect that he did not +know what it meant, but he would find out. He got into a hack and had +himself driven to his hotel, but he never made the inquiry which he +threatened. + +In his own house Richard Kenton lay down awhile, deadly sick, and his +wife had to bring him brandy before he could control his nerves +sufficiently to speak. Then he told her what he had done, and why, and +Mary pulled off his shoes and put a hot-water bottle to his cold feet. +It was not exactly the treatment for a champion, but Mary Kenton was not +thinking of that, and when Richard said he still felt a little sick at +the stomach she wanted him to try a drop of camphor in addition to the +brandy. She said he must not talk, but she wished him so much to talk +that she was glad when he began. + +"It seemed to be something I had to do, Mary, but I would give anything +if I had not been obliged to do it: + +"Yes, I know just how you feel, Dick, and I think it's pretty hard this +has come on you. I do think Ellen might--" + +"It wasn't her fault, Mary. You mustn't blame her. She's had more to +bear than all the rest of us." Mary looked stubbornly unconvinced, and +she was not moved, apparently, by what he went on to say. "The thing now +is to keep what I've done from making more mischief for her." + +"What do you mean, Dick? You don't believe he'll do anything about it, +do you?" + +"No, I'm not afraid of that. His mouth is shut. But you can't tell how +Ellen will take it. She may side with him now." + +"Dick! If I thought Ellen Kenton could be such a fool as that!" + +"If she's in love with him she'll take his part." + +"But she can't be in love with him when she knows how he acted to your +father!" + +"We can't be sure of that. I know how he acted to father; but at this +minute I pity him so that I could take his part against father. And I +can understand how Ellen-- Anyway, I must make a clean breast of it. +What day is this Thursday? And they sail Saturday! I must write--" + +He lifted himself on his elbow, and made as if to throw off the shawl she +had spread upon him. + +"No, no! I will write, Dick! I will write to your mother. What shall I +say?" She whirled about, and got the paper and ink out of her writing- +desk, and sat down near him to keep him from getting up, and wrote the +date, and the address, "Dear Mother Kenton," which was the way she always +began her letters to Mrs. Kenton, in order to distinguish her from her +own mother. "Now what shall I say?" + +"Simply this," answered Richard. "That I knew of what had happened in +New York, and when I met him this morning I cowhided him. Ugh!" + +"Well, that won't do, Dick. You've got to tell all about it. Your +mother won't understand." + +"Then you write what you please, and read it to me. It makes me sick to +think of it." Richard closed his eyes, and Mary wrote: + + "DEAR MOTHER KENTON,--I am sitting by Richard, writing at his + request, about what he has done. He received a letter from New York + telling him of the Bittridges' performances there, and how that + wretch had insulted and abused you all. He bought a cowhide; + meaning to go over to Ballardsville, and use it on him there, but B. + came over on the Accommodation this morning, and Richard met him at + the station. He did not attempt to resist, for Richard took him + quite by surprise. Now, Mother Kenton, you know that Richard + doesn't approve of violence, and the dear, sweet soul is perfectly + broken-down by what he had to do. But he had to do it, and he + wishes you to know at, once that he did it. He dreads the effect + upon Ellen, and we must leave it to your judgment about telling her. + Of course, sooner or later she must find it out. You need not be + alarmed about Richard. He is just nauseated a little, and he will + be all right as soon as his stomach is settled. He thinks you ought + to have this letter before you sail, and with affectionate good-byes + to all, in which Dick joins, + "Your loving daughter, + "Mary KENTON." + +"There! Will that do?" + +"Yes, that is everything that can be said," answered Richard, and Mary +kissed him gratefully before sealing her letter. + +"I will put a special delivery on it," she said, and her precaution +availed to have the letter delivered to Mrs. Kenton the evening the +family left the hotel, when it was too late to make any change in their +plans, but in time to give her a bad night on the steamer, in her doubt +whether she ought to let the family go, with this trouble behind them. + +But she would have had a bad night on the steamer in any case, with the +heat, and noise, and smell of the docks; and the steamer sailed with her +at six o'clock the next morning with the doubt still open in her mind. +The judge had not been of the least use to her in helping solve it, and +she had not been able to bring herself to attack Lottie for writing to +Richard. She knew it was Lottie who had made the mischief, but she could +not be sure that it was mischief till she knew its effect upon Ellen. +The girl had been carried in the arms of one of the stewards from the +carriage to her berth in Lottie's room, and there she had lain through +the night, speechless and sleepless. + + + + +IX. + +Ellen did not move or manifest any consciousness when the steamer left +her dock and moved out into the stream, or take any note of the tumult +that always attends a great liner's departure. At breakfast-time her +mother came to her from one of the brief absences she made, in the hope +that at each turn she should find her in a different mood, and asked if +she would not have something to eat. + +"I'm not hungry," she answered. "When will it sail?" + +"Why, Ellen! We sailed two hours ago, and the pilot has just left us." + +Ellen lifted herself on her elbow and stared at her. "And you let me!" +she said, cruelly. + +"Ellen! I will not have this!" cried her mother, frantic at the +reproach. "What do you mean by my letting you? You knew that we were +going to sail, didn't you? What else did you suppose we had come to the +steamer for?" + +"I supposed you would let me stay, if I wanted to: But go away, momma, go +away! You're all against me--you, and poppa, and Lottie, and Boyne. Oh, +dear! oh, dear!" She threw herself down in her berth and covered her +face with the sheet, sobbing, while her mother stood by in an anguish of +pity and anger. She wanted to beat the girl, she wanted to throw herself +upon her, and weep with her in the misery which she shared with her. + +Lottie came to the door of the state-room with an arm-load of long- +stemmed roses, the gift of the young Mr. Plumpton, who had not had so +much to be entreated to come down to the steamer and see her off as Boyne +had pretended. "Momma," she said, "I have got to leave these roses in +here, whether Ellen likes it or not. Boyne won't have them in his room, +because he says the man that's with him would have a right to object; and +this is half my room, anyway." + +Mrs. Kenton frowned and shook her head, but Ellen answered from under the +sheet, "I don't mind the roses, Lottie. I wish you'd stay with me a +little while." + +Lottie hesitated, having in mind the breakfast for which the horn had +just sounded. But apparently she felt that one good turn deserved +another, and she answered: "All right; I will, Nell. Momma, you tell +Boyne to hurry, and come to Ellen as soon as he's done, and then I will +go. Don't let anybody take my place." + +"I wish," said Ellen, still from under the sheet, "that momma would have +your breakfast sent here. I don't want Boyne." + +Women apparently do not require any explanation of these swift +vicissitudes in one another, each knowing probably in herself the nerves +from which they proceed. Mrs. Kenton promptly assented, in spite of the +sulky reluctance which Lottie's blue eyes looked at her; she motioned her +violently to silence, and said: "Yes, I will, Ellen. I will send +breakfast for both of you." + +When she was gone, Ellen uncovered her face and asked Lottie to dip a +towel in water and give it to her. As she bathed her eyes she said, +"You don't care, do you, Lottie?" + +"Not very much," said Lottie, unsparingly. I can go to lunch, I +suppose." + +"Maybe I'll go to lunch with you," Ellen suggested, as if she were +speaking of some one else. + +Lottie wasted neither sympathy nor surprise on the question. "Well, +maybe that would be the best thing. Why don't you come to breakfast?" + +"No, I won't go to breakfast. But you go." + +When Lottie joined her family in the dining-saloon she carelessly +explained that Ellen had said she wanted to be alone. Before the young +man, who was the only other person besides the Kentons at their table, +her mother could not question her with any hope that the bad would not be +made worse, and so she remained silent. Judge Kenton sat with his eyes +fixed on his plate, where as yet the steward had put no breakfast for +him; Boyne was supporting the dignity of the family in one of those +moments of majesty from which he was so apt to lapse into childish +dependence. Lottie offered him another alternative by absently laying +hold of his napkin on the table. + +"That's mine," he said, with husky gloom. + +She tossed it back to him with prompt disdain and a deeply eye-lashed +glance at a napkin on her right. The young man who sat next it said, +with a smile, "Perhaps that's yours-unless I've taken my neighbor's." + +Lottie gave him a stare, and when she had sufficiently punished him for +his temerity said, rather sweetly, "Oh, thank you," and took the napkin. + +"I hope we shall all have use for them before long," the young man +ventured again. + +"Well, I should think as much," returned the girl, and this was the +beginning of a conversation which the young man shared successively with +the judge and Mrs. Kenton as opportunity offered. He gave the judge his +card across the table, and when the judge had read on it, "Rev. Hugh +Breckon," he said that his name was Kenton, and he introduced the young +man formally to his family. Mr. Breckon had a clean-shaven face, with an +habitual smile curving into the cheeks from under a long, straight nose; +his chin had a slight whopper-jaw twist that was charming; his gay eyes +were blue, and a full vein came down his forehead between them from his +smooth hair. When he laughed, which was often, his color brightened. + +Boyne was named last, and then Mr. Breckon said, with a smile that showed +all his white teeth, "Oh yes, Mr. Boyne and I are friends already--ever +since we found ourselves room-mates," and but for us, as Lottie +afterwards noted, they might never have known Boyne was rooming with him, +and could easily have made all sorts of insulting remarks about Mr. +Breckon in their ignorance. + +The possibility seemed to delight Mr. Breckon; he invited her to make all +the insulting remarks she could think of, any way, and professed himself +a loser, so far as her real opinion was withheld from him by reason of +his rashness in giving the facts away. In the electrical progress of +their acquaintance she had begun walking up and down the promenade with +him after they came up from breakfast; her mother had gone to Ellen; the +judge had been made comfortable in his steamer-chair, and Boyne had been +sent about his business. + +"I will try to think some up," she promised him, "as soon as I HAVE any +real opinion of you," and he asked her if he might consider that a +beginning. + +She looked at him out of her indomitable blue eyes, and said, "If it +hadn't been for your card, and the Reverend on it, I should have said you +were an actor." + +"Well, well," said Mr. Breckon, with a laugh, perhaps I am, in a way. +I oughtn't to be, of course, but if a minister ever forces himself, I +suppose he's acting." + +"I don't see," said Lottie, instantly availing herself of the opening, +"how you can get up and pray, Sunday after Sunday, whether you feel like +it or not." + +The young man said, with another laugh, but not so gay, " Well, the case +has its difficulties." + +"Or perhaps you just read prayers," Lottie sharply conjectured. + +"No," he returned, "I haven't that advantage--if you think it one. +I'm a sort of a Unitarian. Very advanced, too, I'm afraid." + +"Is that a kind of Universalist?" + +"Not--not exactly. There's an old joke--I'm not sure it's very good-- +which distinguishes between the sects. It's said that the Universalists +think God is too good to damn them, and the Unitarians think they are too +good to be damned." Lottie shrank a little from him. "Ah!" he cried, +"you think it sounds wicked. Well, I'm sorry. I'm not clerical enough +to joke about serious things." + +He looked into her face with a pretended anxiety. "Oh, I don't know," +she said, with a little scorn. "I guess if you can stand it, I can." + +"I'm not sure that I can. I'm afraid it's more in keeping with an +actor's profession than my own. Why," he added, as if to make a +diversion, "should you have thought I was an actor?" + +"I suppose because you were clean-shaved; and your pronunciation. So +Englishy." + +"Is it? Perhaps I ought to be proud. But I'm not an Englishman. I am a +plain republican American. May I ask if you are English?" + +"Oh!" said Lottie. "As if you thought such a thing. We're from Ohio." + +Mr. Breckon said, "Ah!" Lottie could not make out in just what sense. + +By this time they were leaning on the rail of the promenade, looking over +at what little was left of Long Island, and she said, abruptly: "I think +I will go and see how my father is getting along." + +"Oh, do take me with you, Miss Kenton!" Mr: Breckon entreated. "I am +feeling very badly about that poor old joke. I know you don't think well +of me for it, and I wish to report what I've been saying to your father, +and let him judge me. I've heard that it's hard to live up to Ohio +people when you're at your best, and I do hope you'll believe I have not +been quite at my best. Will you let me come with you?" + +Lottie did not know whether he was making fun of her or not, but she +said, "Oh, it's a free country," and allowed him to go with her. + +His preface made the judge look rather grave; but when he came to the +joke, Kenton laughed and said it was not bad. + +"Oh, but that isn't quite the point," said Mr. Breckon. "The question is +whether I am good in repeating it to a young lady who was seeking serious +instruction on a point of theology." + +"I don't know what she would have done with the instruction if she had +got it," said the judge, dryly, and the young man ventured in her behalf: + +"It would be difficult for any one to manage, perhaps." + +"Perhaps," Kenton assented, and Lottie could see that he was thinking +Ellen would know what to do with it. + +She resented that, and she was in the offence that girls feel when their +elders make them the subject of comment with their contemporaries. +"Well, I'll leave you to discuss it alone. I'm going to Ellen," she +said, the young man vainly following her a few paces, with apologetic +gurgles of laughter. + +"That's right," her father consented, and then he seized the opening to +speak about Ellen. "My eldest daughter is something of an invalid, but I +hope we shall have her on deck before the voyage is over. She is more +interested in those matters than her sister." + +"Oh!" Mr. Breckon interpolated, in a note of sympathetic interest. He +could not well do more. + +It was enough for Judge Kenton, who launched himself upon the celebration +of Ellen's gifts and qualities with a simple-hearted eagerness which he +afterwards denied when his wife accused him of it, but justified as +wholly safe in view of Mr. Breckon's calling and his obvious delicacy of +mind. It was something that such a person would understand, and Kenton +was sure that he had not unduly praised the girl. A less besotted parent +might have suspected that he had not deeply interested his listener, who +seemed glad of the diversion operated by Boyne's coming to growl upon his +father, "Mother's bringing Ellen up." + +"Oh, then, I mustn't keep your chair," said the minister, and he rose +promptly from the place he had taken beside the judge, and got himself +away to the other side of the ship before the judge could frame a fitting +request for him to stay. + +"If you had," Mrs. Kenton declared, when he regretted this to her, +"I don't know what I would have done. It's bad enough for him to hear +you bragging about the child without being kept to help take care of her, +or keep her amused, as you call it. I will see that Ellen is kept amused +without calling upon strangers." She intimated that if Kenton did not +act with more self-restraint she should do little less than take Ellen +ashore, and abandon him to the voyage alone. Under the intimidation he +promised not to speak of Ellen again. + +At luncheon, where Mr. Breckon again devoted himself to Lottie, he and +Ellen vied in ignoring each other after their introduction, as far as +words went. The girl smiled once or twice at what he was saying to her +sister, and his glance kindled when it detected her smile. He might be +supposed to spare her his conversation in her own interest, she looked so +little able to cope with the exigencies of the talk he kept going. + +When he addressed her she answered as if she had not been listening, and +he turned back to Lottie. After luncheon he walked with her, and their +acquaintance made such a swift advance that she was able to ask him if he +laughed that way with everybody. + +He laughed, and then he begged her pardon if he had been rude. + +"Well, I don't see what there is to laugh at so much. When you ask me a +thing I tell you just what I think, and it seems to set you off in a +perfect gale. Don't you expect people to say what they think?" + +"I think it's beautiful," said the young man, going into the gale, +and I've got to expecting it of you, at any rate. But--but it's always +so surprising! It isn't what you expect of people generally, is it?" + +"I don't expect it of you," said Lottie. + +"No?" asked Mr. Breckon, in another gale. "Am I so uncandid?" + +"I don't know about uncandid. But I should say you were slippery." + +At this extraordinary criticism the young man looked graver than he had +yet been able to do since the beginning of their acquaintance. He said, +presently, "I wish you would explain what you mean by slippery." + +"You're as close as a trap!" + +"Really?" + +"It makes me tired." + +"If you're not too tired now I wish you would say how." + +"Oh, you understand well enough. You've got me to say what I think about +all sorts of things, and you haven't expressed your opinion on a single, +solitary point?" + +Lottie looked fiercely out to sea, turning her face so as to keep him +from peering around into it in the way he had. For that reason, perhaps, +he did not try to do so. He answered, seriously: "I believe you are +partly right. I'm afraid I haven't seemed quite fair. Couldn't you +attribute my closeness to something besides my slipperiness?" He began +to laugh again. "Can't you imagine my being interested in your opinions +so much more than my own that I didn't care to express mine?" + +Lottie said, impatiently, "Oh, pshaw!" She had hesitated whether to say, +"Rats!" + +"But now," he pursued, "if you will suggest some point on which I can +give you an opinion, I promise solemnly to do so," but he was not very +solemn as he spoke. + +"Well, then, I will," she said. "Don't yon think it's very strange, to +say the least, for a minister to be always laughing so much?" + +Mr. Breckon gave a peal of delight, and answered, "Yes, I certainly do." +He controlled himself so far as to say: "Now I think I've been pretty +open with you, and I wish you'd answer me a question. Will you?" + +"Well, I will--one," said Lottie. + +"It may be two or three; but I'll begin with one. Why do you think a +minister ought to be more serious than other men?" + +"Why? Well, I should think you'd know. You wouldn't laugh at a funeral, +would you?" + +"I've been at some funerals where it would have been a relief to laugh, +and I've wanted to cry at some weddings. But you think it wouldn't do?" + +"Of course it wouldn't. I should think you'd know as much as that," said +Lottie, out of patience with him. + +"But a minister isn't always marrying or burying people; and in the, +intervals, why shouldn't he be setting them an example of harmless +cheerfulness?" + +"He ought to be thinking more about the other world, I should say." + +"Well, if he believes there is another world--" + +"Why! Don't you?" she broke out on him. + +Mr. Breckon ruled himself and continued--"as strenuously and +unquestionably as he ought, he has greater reason than other men for +gayety through his faith in a happier state of being than this. That's +one of the reasons I use against myself when I think of leaving off +laughing. Now, Miss Kenton," he concluded, "for such a close and +slippery nature, I think I've been pretty frank," and he looked round and +down into her face with a burst of laughter that could be heard an the +other side of the ship. He refused to take up any serious topic after +that, and he returned to his former amusement of making her give herself +away. + +That night Lottie came to her room with an expression so decisive in her +face that Ellen, following it with vague, dark eyes as it showed itself +in the glass at which her sister stood taking out the first dismantling +hairpins before going to bed, could not fail of something portentous in +it. + +"Well," said Lottie, with severe finality, "I haven't got any use for +THAT young man from this time out. Of all the tiresome people, he +certainly takes the cake. You can have him, Ellen, if you want him." + +"What's the matter with him?" asked Ellen, with a voice in sympathy with +the slow movement of her large eyes as she lay in her berth, staring at +Lottie. + +"There's everything the matter, that oughtn't to be. He's too trivial +for anything: I like a man that's serious about one thing in the +universe, at least, and that's just what Mr. Breckon isn't." She went at +such length into his disabilities that by the time she returned to the +climax with which she started she was ready to clamber into the upper +berth; and as she snapped the electric button at its head she repeated, +"He's trivial." + +"Isn't it getting rough?" asked Ellen. "The ship seems to be tipping." + +"Yes, it is," said Lottie, crossly. "Good-night." + +If the Rev. Mr. Breckon was making an early breakfast in the hope of +sooner meeting Lottie, who had dismissed him the night before without +encouraging him to believe that she wished ever to see him again, he was +destined to disappointment. The deputation sent to breakfast by the +paradoxical family whose acquaintance he had made on terms of each +forbidding intimacy, did not include the girl who had frankly provoked +his confidence and severely snubbed it. He had left her brother very +sea-sick in their state-room, and her mother was reported by her father +to be feeling the motion too much to venture out. The judge was, in +fact, the only person at table when Breckon sat down; but when he had +accounted for his wife's absence, and confessed that he did not believe +either of his daughters was coming, Ellen gainsaid him by appearing and +advancing quite steadily along the saloon to the place beside him. It +had not gone so far as this in the judge's experience of a neurotic +invalid without his learning to ask her no questions about herself. He +had always a hard task in refraining, but he had grown able to refrain, +and now he merely looked unobtrusively glad to see her, and asked her +where Lottie was. + +"Oh, she doesn't want any breakfast, she says. Is momma sick, too? +Where's Boyne?" + +The judge reported as to her mother, and Mr. Breckon, after the exchange +of a silent salutation with the girl, had a gleeful moment in describing +Boyne's revolt at the steward's notion of gruel. "I'm glad to see you so +well, Miss Kenton," he concluded. + +"I suppose I will be sick, too, if it gets rougher," she said, and she +turned from him to give a rather compendious order to the table steward. + +"Well, you've got an appetite, Ellen," her father ventured. + +"I don't believe I will eat anything," she checked him, with a falling +face. + +Breckon came to the aid of the judge. "If you're not sick now, I +prophesy you won't be, Miss Kenton. It can't get much rougher, without +doing something uncommon." + +"Is it a storm?" she asked, indifferently. + +"It's what they call half a gale, I believe. I don't know how they +measure it." + +She smiled warily in response to his laugh, and said to her father, "Are +you going up after breakfast, poppa?" + +"Why, if you want to go, Ellen--" + +"Oh, I wasn't asking for that; I am going back to Lottie. But I should +think you would like the air. Won't it do you good?" + +"I'm all right," said the judge, cheered by her show of concern for some +one else. "I suppose it's rather wet on deck?" he referred himself to +Breckon. + +"Well, not very, if you keep to the leeward. She doesn't seem a very wet +boat." + +"What is a wet boat" Ellen asked, without lifting her sad eyes. + +"Well, really, I'm afraid it's largely a superstition. Passengers like +to believe that some boats are less liable to ship seas--to run into +waves--than others; but I fancy that's to give themselves the air of old +travellers." + +She let the matter lapse so entirely that he supposed she had forgotten +it in all its bearings, when she asked, "Have you been across many +times?" + +"Not many-four or five." + +"This is our first time," she volunteered. + +"I hope it won't be your last. I know you will enjoy it." She fell +listless again, and Breckon imagined he had made a break. "Not," he +added, with an endeavor for lightness, "that I suppose you're going for +pleasure altogether. Women, nowadays, are above that, I understand. +They go abroad for art's sake, and to study political economy, and +history, and literature--" + +"My daughter," the judge interposed, "will not do much in that way, I +hope." + +The girl bent her head over her plate and frowned. + +"Oh, then," said Breckon, "I will believe that she's going for purely +selfish enjoyment. I should like to be justified in making that my +object by a good example." + +Ellen looked up and gave him a look that cut him short in his glad note. +The lifting of her eyelids was like the rise of the curtain upon some +scene of tragedy which was all the more impressive because it seemed +somehow mixed with shame. This poor girl, whom he had pitied as an +invalid, was a sufferer from some spiritual blight more pathetic than +broken health. He pulled his mind away from the conjecture that tempted +it and went on: "One of the advantages of going over the fourth or fifth +time is that you're relieved from a discoverer's duties to Europe. I've +got absolutely nothing before me now, but at first I had to examine every +object of interest on the Continent, and form an opinion about thousands +of objects that had no interest for me. I hope Miss Kenton will take +warning from me." + +He had not addressed Ellen directly, and her father answered: "We have no +definite plans as yet, but we don't mean to overwork ourselves even if +we've come for a rest. I don't know," he added, "but we had better spend +our summer in England. It's easier getting about where you know the +language. + +The judge seemed to refer his ideas to Breckon for criticism, and the +young man felt authorized to say, "Oh, so many of them know the language +everywhere now, that it's easy getting about in any country." + +"Yes, I suppose so," the judge vaguely deferred. + +"Which," Ellen demanded of the young man with a nervous suddenness, "do +you think is the most interesting country?" + +He found himself answering with equal promptness, "Oh, Italy, of course." + +"Can we go to Italy, poppa?" asked the girl. + +"I shouldn't advise you to go there at once" Breckon intervened, smiling. +"You'd find it Pretty hot there now. Florence, or Rome, or Naples"--you +can't think of them." + +"We have it pretty hot in Central Ohio," said the judge, with latent +pride in his home climate, "What sort of place is Holland?" + +"Oh, delightful! And the boat goes right on to Rotterdam, you know." + +"Yes. We had arranged to leave it at Boulogne," but we could change. +Do you think your mother would like Holland?" The judge turned to his +daughter. + +"I think she would like Italy better. She's read more about it," said +the girl. + +"Rise of the Dutch Republic," her father suggested. + +"Yea, I know. But she's read more about Italy!" + +"Oh, well," Breckon yielded, "the Italian lakes wouldn't be impossible. +And you might find Venice fairly comfortable." + +"We could go to Italy, then," said the judge to his daughter, "if your +mother prefers." + +Breckon found the simplicity of this charming, and he tasted a yet finer +pleasure in the duplicity; for he divined that the father was seeking +only to let his daughter have her way in pretending to yield to her +mother's preference. + +It was plain that the family's life centred, as it ought, about this sad, +sick girl, the heart of whose mystery he perceived, on reflection, he had +not the wish to pluck out. He might come to know it, but he would not +try to know it; if it offered itself he might even try not to know it. +He had sometimes found it more helpful with trouble to be ignorant of its +cause. + +In the mean time he had seen that these Kentons were sweet, good people, +as he phrased their quality to himself. He had come to terms of +impersonal confidence the night before with Boyne, who had consulted him +upon many more problems and predicaments of life than could have yet +beset any boy's experience, probably with the wish to make provision for +any possible contingency of the future. The admirable principles which +Boyne evolved for his guidance from their conversation were formulated +with a gravity which Breckon could outwardly respect only by stifling his +laughter in his pillow. He rather liked the way Lottie had tried to +weigh him in her balance and found him, as it were, of an imponderable +levity. With his sense of being really very light at most times, and +with most people, he was aware of having been particularly light with +Lottie, of having been slippery, of having, so far as responding to her +frankness was concerned, been close. He relished the unsparing honesty +with which she had denounced him, and though he did not yet know his +outcast condition with relation to her, he could not think of her without +a smile of wholly disinterested liking. He did not know, as a, man of +earlier date would have known, all that the little button in the judge's +lapel meant; but he knew that it meant service in the civil war, a +struggle which he vaguely and impersonally revered, though its details +were of much the same dimness for him as those of the Revolution and the +War of 1812. The modest distrust which had grown upon the bold self- +confidence of Kenton's earlier manhood could not have been more tenderly +and reverently imagined; and Breckon's conjecture of things suffered for +love's sake against sense and conviction in him were his further tribute +to a character which existed, of course, mainly in this conjecture. It +appeared to him that Kenton was held not only in the subjection to his +wife's, judgment, which befalls, and doubtless becomes, a man after many +years of marriage, but that he was in the actual performance of more than +common renunciation of his judgment in deference to the good woman. She +in turn, to be sure, offered herself a sacrifice to the whims of the sick +girl, whose worst whim was having no wish that could be ascertained, and +who now, after two days of her mother's devotion, was cast upon her own +resources by the inconstant barometer. It had become apparent that Miss +Kenton was her father's favorite in a special sense, and that his partial +affection for her was of much older date than her mother's. Not less +charming than her fondness for her father was the openness with which she +disabled his wisdom because of his partiality to her. + + + + +X + +When they left the breakfast table the first morning of the rough +weather, Breckon offered to go on deck with Miss Kenton, and put her +where she could see the waves. That had been her shapeless ambition, +dreamily expressed with reference to some time, as they rose. Breckon +asked, "Why not now?" and he promised to place her chair on deck where +she could enjoy the spectacle safe from any seas the boat might ship. +Then she recoiled, and she recoiled the further upon her father's +urgence. At the foot of the gangway she looked wistfully up the reeling +stairs, and said that she saw her shawl and Lottie's among the others +solemnly swaying from the top railing. "Oh, then," Breckon pressed her, +"you could be made comfortable without the least trouble." + +"I ought to go and see how Lottie is getting along," she murmured. + +Her father said he would see for her, and on this she explicitly +renounced her ambition of going up. "You couldn't do anything," she +said, coldly. + +"If Miss Lottie is very sea-sick she's beyond all earthly aid," Breckon +ventured. "She'd better be left to the vain ministrations of the +stewardess." + +Ellen looked at him in apparent distrust of his piety, if not of his +wisdom. "I don't believe I could get up the stairs," she said. + +"Well," he admitted, "they're not as steady as land--going stairs." Her +father discreetly kept silence, and, as no one offered to help her, she +began to climb the crazy steps, with Breckon close behind her in latent +readiness for her fall. + +From the top she called down to the judge, "Tell momma I will only stay a +minute." But later, tucked into her chair on the lee of the bulkhead, +with Breckon bracing himself against it beside her, she showed no +impatience to return. "Are they never higher than that" she required of +him, with her wan eyes critically on the infinite procession of the +surges. + +"They must be," Breckon answered, "if there's any truth in common report. +I've heard of their running mountains high. Perhaps they used rather low +mountains to measure them by. Or the measurements may not have been very +exact. But common report never leaves much to the imagination." + +"That was the way at Niagara," the girl assented; and Breckon obligingly +regretted that he had never been there. He thought it in good taste that +she should not tell him he ought to go. She merely said, "I was there +once with poppa," and did not press her advantage. "Do they think," she +asked, " that it's going to be a very long voyage?" + +"I haven't been to the smoking-room--that's where most of the thinking is +done on such points; the ship's officers never seem to know about it-- +since the weather changed. Should you mind it greatly?" + +"I wouldn't care if it never ended," said the girl, with such a note of +dire sincerity that Breckon instantly changed his first mind as to her +words implying a pose. She took any deeper implication from them in +adding, "I didn't know I should like being at sea." + +"Well, if you're not sea-sick," be assented, "there are not many +pleasanter things in life." + +She suggested, "I suppose I'm not well enough to be sea-sick." Then she +seemed to become aware of something provisional in his attendance, and +she said, "You mustn't stay on my account. I can get down when I want +to." + +"Do let me stay," he entreated, "unless you'd really rather not," and as +there was no chair immediately attainable, he crouched on the deck beside +hers. + +"It makes me think," she said, and he perceived that she meant the sea, +"of the cold-white, heavy plunging foam in 'The Dream of Fair Women.' +The words always seemed drenched!" + +"Ah, Tennyson, yes," said Breckon, with a disposition to smile at the +simple-heartedness of the literary allusion. "Do young ladies read +poetry much in Ohio?" + +"I don't believe they do," she answered. "Do they anywhere?" + +"That's one of the things I should like to know. Is Tennyson your +favorite poet?" + +"I don't believe I have any," said Ellen. "I used to like Whither, and +Emerson; aid Longfellow, too." + +"Used to! Don't you now?" + +"I don't read them so much now," and she made a pause, behind which he +fancied her secret lurked. But he shrank from knowing it if he might. + +"You're all great readers in your family," he suggested, as a polite +diversion. + +"Lottie isn't," she answered, dreamily. "She hates it." + +"Ah, I referred more particularly to the others," said Breckon, and he +began to laugh, and then checked himself. "Your mother, and the judge-- +and your brother--" + +"Boyne reads about insects," she admitted. + +"He told me of his collection of cocoons. He seems to be afraid it has +suffered in his absence." + +"I'm afraid it has," said Ellen, and then remained silent. + +"There!" the young man broke out, pointing seaward. "That's rather a +fine one. Doesn't that realize your idea of something mountains high? +Unless your mountains are very high in Ohio!" + +"It is grand. And the gulf between! But we haven't any in our part. +It's all level. Do you believe the tenth wave is larger than the rest?" + +"Why, the difficulty is to know which the tenth wave is, or when to begin +counting." + +"Yes," said the girl, and she added, vaguely: "I suppose it's like +everything else in that. We have to make-believe before we can believe +anything." + +"Something like an hypothesis certainly seems necessary," Breckon +assented, with a smile for the gravity of their discourse. "We shouldn't +have the atomic theory without it." She did not say anything, and he +decided that the atomic theory was beyond the range of her reading. +He tried to be more concrete. "We have to make-believe in ourselves +before we can believe, don't we? And then we sometimes find we are +wrong!" He laughed, but she asked, with tragical seriousness: + +"And what ought you to do when you find out you are mistaken in +yourself?" + +"That's what I'm trying to decide," he replied. "Sometimes I feel like +renouncing myself altogether; but usually I give myself another chance. +I dare say if I hadn't been so forbearing I might have agreed with your +sister about my unfitness for the ministry." + +"With Lottie?" + +"She thinks I laugh too much!" + +"I don't see why a minister shouldn't laugh if he feels like it. And if +there's something to laugh at." + +"Ah, that's just the point! Is there ever anything to laugh at? If we +looked closely enough at things, oughtn't we rather to cry?" He laughed +in retreat from the serious proposition. "But it wouldn't do to try +making each other cry instead of laugh, would it? I suppose your sister +would rather have me cry." + +"I don't believe Lottie thought much about it," said Ellen; and at this +point Mr. Breckon yielded to an impulse. + +"I should think I had really been of some use if I had made you laugh, +Miss Kenton." + +"Me?" + +"You look as if you laughed with your whole heart when you did laugh." + +She glanced about, and Breckon decided that she had found him too +personal. "I wonder if I could walk, with the ship tipping so?" she +asked. + +"Well, not far," said Breckon, with a provisional smile, and then he was +frightened from his irony by her flinging aside her wraps and starting to +her feet. Before he could scramble to his own, she had slid down the +reeling promenade half to the guard, over which she seemed about to +plunge. He hurled himself after her; he could not have done otherwise; +and it was as much in a wild clutch for support as in a purpose to save +her that he caught her in his arms and braced himself against the ship's +slant. "Where are you going? What are you trying to do?" he shouted. + +"I wanted to go down-stairs," she protested, clinging to him. + +"You were nearer going overboard," he retorted. "You shouldn't have +tried." He had not fully formulated his reproach when the ship righted +herself with a counter-roll and plunge, and they were swung staggering +back together against the bulkhead. The door of the gangway was within +reach, and Breckon laid hold of the rail beside it and put the girl +within. "Are you hurt?" he asked. + +"No, no; I'm not hurt," she panted, sinking on the cushioned benching +where usually rows of semi-sea-sick people were lying. + +"I thought you might have been bruised against the bulkhead," he said. +"Are you sure you're not hurt that I can't get you anything? From the +steward, I mean?" + +"Only help me down-stairs," she answered. "I'm perfectly well," and +Breckon was so willing on these terms to close the incident that he was +not aware of the bruise on his own arm, which afterwards declared itself +in several primitive colors. "Don't tell them," she added. "I want to +come up again." + +"Why, certainly not," he consented; but Boyne Kenton, who had been an +involuntary witness of the fact from a point on the forward promenade, +where he had stationed himself to study the habits of the stormy petrel +at a moment so favorable to the acquaintance of the petrel (having left +a seasick bed for the purpose), was of another mind. He had been +alarmed, and, as it appeared in the private interview which he demanded +of his mother, he had been scandalized. + +"It is bad enough the way Lottie is always going on with fellows. And +now, if Ellen is going to begin!" + +" But, Boyne, child," Mrs. Kenton argued, in an equilibrium between the +wish to laugh at her son and the wish to box his ears, "how could she +help his catching her if he was to save her from pitching overboard?" + +"That's just it! He will always think that she did it just so he would +have to catch her." + +"I don't believe any one would think that of Ellen," said Mrs. Kenton, +gravely. + +"Momma! You don't know what these Eastern fellows are. There are so few +of them that they're used to having girls throw themselves at them, and +they will think anything, ministers and all. You ought to talk to Ellen, +and caution her. Of course, she isn't like Lottie; but if Lottie's been +behaving her way with Mr. Breckon, he must suppose the rest of the family +is like her." + +"Boyne," said his mother, provisionally, "what sort of person is Mr. +Breckon?" + +"Well, I think he's kind of frivolous." + +"Do you, Boyne?" + +"I don't suppose he means any harm by it, but I don't like to see a +minister laugh so much. I can't hardly get him to talk seriously about +anything. And I just know he makes fun of Lottie. I don't mean that he +always makes fun with me. He didn't that night at the vaudeville, where +I first saw him." + +"What do you mean?" + +"Don't you remember? I told you about it last winter." + +"And was Mr. Breckon that gentleman?" + +"Yes; but he didn't know who I was when we met here." + +"Well, upon my word, Boyne, I think you might have told us before," said +his mother, in not very definite vexation. "Go along, now!" + +Boyne stood talking to his mother, with his hands, which he had not grown +to, largely planted on the jambs of her state-room door. She was keeping +her berth, not so much because she was sea-sick as because it was the +safest place in the unsteady ship to be in. "Do you want me to send +Ellen to you!" + +"I will attend to Ellen, Boyne," his mother snubbed him. "How is +Lottie?" + +"I can't tell whether she's sick or not. I went to see about her and she +motioned me away, and fairly screamed when I told her she ought to keep +out in the air. Well, I must be going up again myself, or--" + +Before lunch, Boyne had experienced the alternative which he did not +express, although his theory and practice of keeping in the open air +ought to have rendered him immune. Breckon saw his shock of hair, and +his large eyes, like Ellen's in their present gloom, looking out of it on +the pillow of the upper berth, when he went to their room to freshen +himself for the luncheon, and found Boyne averse even to serious +conversation: He went to lunch without him. None of the Kentons were at +table, and he had made up his mind to lunch alone when Ellen appeared, +and came wavering down the aisle to the table. He stood up to help her, +but seeing how securely she stayed herself from chair to chair he sank +down again. + +"Poppy is sick, too, now," she replied, as if to account for being alone. + +"And you're none the worse for your little promenade?" The steward came +to Breckon's left shoulder with a dish, and after an effort to serve +himself from it he said, with a slight gasp, "The other side, please." +Ellen looked at him, but did not speak, and he made haste to say: "The +doctor goes so far as to admit that its half a gale. I don't know just +what measure the first officer would have for it. But I congratulate you +on a very typical little storm, Miss Kenton; perfectly safe, but very +decided. A great many people cross the Atlantic without anything half as +satisfactory. There is either too much or too little of this sort of +thing." He went on talking about the weather, and had got such a +distance from the point of beginning that he had cause to repent being +brought back to it when she asked: + +"Did the doctor think, you were hurt?" + +"Well, perhaps I ought to be more ashamed than I am," said Breckon. +"But I thought I had better make sure. And it's only a bruise--" + +"Won't you let ME help you!" she asked, as another dish intervened at his +right. "I hurt you." + +Breckon laughed at her solemn face and voice. "If you'll exonerate +yourself first," he answered: "I couldn't touch a morsel that conveyed +confession of the least culpability on your part. Do you consent? +Otherwise, I pass this dish. And really I want some!" + +"Well," she sadly consented, and he allowed her to serve his plate. + +"More yet, please," he said. "A lot!" + +"Is that enough?" + +"Well, for the first helping. And don't offer to cut it up for me! My +proud spirit draws the line at cutting up. Besides, a fork will do the +work with goulash." + +"Is that what it is?" she asked, but not apparently because she cared to +know. + +"Unless you prefer to naturalize it as stew. It seems to have come in +with the Hungarian bands. I suppose you have them in--" + +"Tuskingum? No, it is too small. But I heard them at a restaurant in +New York where my brother took us." + +"In the spirit of scientific investigation? It's strange how a common +principle seems to pervade both the Hungarian music and cooking--the same +wandering airs and flavors--wild, vague, lawless harmonies in both. Did +you notice it?" + +Ellen shook her head. The look of gloom which seemed to Breckon habitual +in it came back into her face, and he had a fantastic temptation to see +how far he could go with her sad consciousness before she should be aware +that he was experimenting upon it. He put this temptation from him, and +was in the enjoyment of a comfortable self-righteousness when it returned +in twofold power upon him with the coming of some cutlets which +capriciously varied the repast. + +"Ah, now, Miss Kenton, if you were to take pity on my helplessness!" + +"Why, certainly!" She possessed herself of his plate, and began to cut +up the meat for him. "Am I making the bites too small?" she asked, with +an upward glance at him. + +"Well, I don't know. Should you think so?" he returned, with a smile +that out-measured the morsels on the plate before her. + +She met his laughing eyes with eyes that questioned his honesty, at first +sadly, and then indignantly. She dropped the knife and fork upon the +plate and rose. + +"Oh, Miss Kenton!" he penitently entreated. + +But she was down the slanting aisle and out of the reeling door before he +could decide what to do. + + + + +XI. + +It seemed to Breckon that he had passed through one of those accessions +of temperament, one of those crises of natural man, to put it in the +terms of an older theology than he professed, that might justify him in +recurring to his original sense of his unfitness for his sacred calling, +as he would hardly ham called it: He had allowed his levity to get the +better of his sympathy, and his love of teasing to overpower that love of +helping which seemed to him his chief right and reason for being a +minister: To play a sort of poor practical joke upon that melancholy girl +(who was also so attractive) was not merely unbecoming to him as a +minister; it was cruel; it was vulgar; it was ungentlemanly. He could +not say less than ungentlemanly, for that seemed to give him the only +pang that did him any good. Her absolute sincerity had made her such an +easy prey that he ought to have shrunk from the shabby temptation in +abhorrence. + +It is the privilege of a woman, whether she wills it or not, to put a man +who is in the wrong concerning her much further in the wrong than he +could be from his offence. Breckon did not know whether he was suffering +more or less because he was suffering quite hopelessly, but he was sure +that he was suffering justly, and he was rather glad, if anything, that +he must go on suffering. His first impulse had been to go at once to +Judge Kenton and own his wrong, and take the consequences--in fact, +invite them. But Breckon forbore for two reasons: one, that he had +already appeared before the judge with the confession of having possibly +made an unclerical joke to his younger daughter; the other, that the +judge might not consider levity towards the elder so venial; and though +Breckon wished to be both punished and pardoned, in the final analysis, +perhaps, he most wished to be pardoned. Without pardon he could see no +way to repair the wrong he had done. Perhaps he wished even to retrieve +himself in the girl's eyes, or wished for the chance of trying. + +Ellen went away to her state-room and sat down on the sofa opposite +Lottie, and she lost herself in a muse in which she was found by the +voice of the sufferer in the berth. + +"If you haven't got anything better to do than come in here and stare at +me, I wish you would go somewhere else and stare. I can tell you it +isn't any joke." + +"I didn't know I was staring at you," said Ellen, humbly. + +"It would be enough to have you rising and sinking there, without your +staring at all: If you're going to stay, I wish you'd lie down. I don't +see why you're so well, anyway, after getting us all to come on this +wild-goose chase." + +"I know, I know," Ellen strickenly deprecated. "But I'm not going to +stay. I jest came for my things." + +"Is that giggling simpleton sick? I hope he is!" + +"Mr. Breckon?" Ellen asked, though she knew whom Lottie meant. "No, he +isn't sick. He was at lunch." + +"Was poppa?" + +"He was at breakfast." + +"And momma?" + +"She and Boyne are both in bed. I don't know whether they're very sick." + +"Well, then, I'll just tell you what, Ellen Kenton!" Lottie sat up in +accusal. "You were staring at something he said; and the first thing we +all know it will be another case of Bittridge!" Ellen winced, but Lottie +had no pity. "You don't know it, because you don't know anything, and +I'm not blaming you; but if you let that simpleton--I don't care if he is +a minister!--go 'round with you when your family are all sick abed, +you'll be having the whole ship to look after you." + +"Be still, Lottie!" cried Ellen. "You are awful," and, with a flaming +face, she escaped from the state-room. + +She did not know where else to go, and she beat along the sides of the +corridor as far as the dining-saloon. She had a dim notion of trying to +go up into the music-room above, but a glance at the reeling steep of the +stairs forbade. With her wraps on her arm and her sea-cap in her hand, +she stood clinging to the rail-post. + +Breckon came out of the saloon. "Oh, Miss Kenton," he humbly entreated, +"don't try to go on deck! It's rougher than ever." + +"I was going to the music-room," she faltered. + +"Let me help you, then," he said again. They mounted the gangway-steps, +but this time with his hand under her elbow, and his arm alert as before +in a suspended embrace against her falling. + +She had lost the initiative of her earlier adventure; she could only +submit herself to his guidance. But he almost outdid her in meekness, +when he got her safely placed in a corner whence she could not be easily +flung upon the floor. "You must have found it very stuffy below; but, +indeed, you'd better not try going out." + +"Do you think it isn't safe here?" she asked. + +"Oh yes. As long as you keep quiet. May I get you something to read? +They seem to have a pretty good little library." + +They both glanced at the case of books; from which the steward-librarian +was setting them the example of reading a volume. + +"No, I don't want to read. You musn't let me keep you from it." + +"Well, one can read any time. But one hasn't always the chance to say +that one is ashamed. Don't pretend you don't understand, Miss Kenton! +I didn't really mean anything. The temptation to let you exaggerate my +disability was too much for me. Say that you despise me! It would be +such a comfort." + +"Weren't you hurt?" + +"A little--a little more than a little, but not half so much as I +deserved--not to the point of not being able to cut up my meat. Am I +forgiven? I'll promise to cut up all your meat for you at dinner! Ah, +I'm making it worse!" + +"Oh no. Please don't speak of it" + +"Could you forbid my thinking of it, too?" He did not wait for her to +answer. "Then here goes ! One, two, three, and the thought is banished +forever. Now what shall we speak of, or think of? We finished up the +weather pretty thoroughly this morning. And if you have not the weather +and the ship's run when you're at sea, why, you are at sea. Don't you +think it would be a good plan, when they stick those little flags into +the chart, to show how far we've come in the last twenty-four hours, if +they'd supply a topic for the day? They might have topics inscribed on +the flags-standard topics, that would serve for any voyage. We might +leave port with History--say, personal history; that would pave the way +to a general acquaintance among the passengers. Then Geography, and if +the world is really round, and what keeps the sea from spilling. Then +Politics, and the comparative advantages of monarchical and republican +governments, for international discussion. Then Pathology, and whether +you're usually sea-sick, and if there is any reliable remedy. Then--for +those who are still up--Poetry and Fiction; whether women really like +Kipling, and what kind of novels you prefer. There ought to be about ten +topics. These boats are sometimes very slow. Can't you suggest +something, Miss Kenton? There is no hurry! We've got four to talk over, +for we must bring up the arrears, you know. And now we'll begin with +personal history. Your sister doesn't approve of me, does she?" + +"My sister?" Ellen faltered, and, between the conscience to own the fact +and the kindness to deny it, she stopped altogether. + +"I needn't have asked. She told me so herself, in almost as many words. +She said I was slippery, and as close as a trap. Miss Kenton! I have +the greatest wish to know whether I affect you as both slippery and +close!" + +"I don't always know what Lottie means." + +"She means what she says; and I feel that I am under condemnation till I +reform. I don't know how to stop being slippery, but I'm determined to +stop being close. Will you tell her that for me? Will you tell her that +you never met an opener, franker person?--of course, except herself!--and +that so far from being light I seemed to you particularly heavy? Say +that I did nothing but talk about myself, and that when you wanted to +talk about yourself you couldn't get in a word edgewise. Do try, now, +Miss Kenton, and see if you can! I don't want you to invent a character +for me, quite." + +"Why, there's nothing to say about me," she began in compliance with his +gayety, and then she fell helpless from it. + +"Well, then, about Tuskingum. I should like to hear about Tuskingum, so +much!" + +"I suppose we like it because we've always lived there. You haven't been +much in the West, have you?" + +"Not as much as I hope to be." He had found that Western people were +sometimes sensitive concerning their section and were prepared to resent +complacent ignorance of it. "I've always thought it must be very +interesting." + +"It isn't," said the girl. "At least, not like the East. I used to be +provoked when the lecturers said anything like that; but when you've been +to New York you see what they mean." + +"The lecturers?" he queried. + +"They always stayed at our house when they lectured in Tuskingum." + +"Ah! Oh yes," said Breckon, grasping a situation of which he had heard +something, chiefly satirical. "Of course. And is your father--is Judge +Kenton literary? Excuse me!" + +"Only in his history. He's writing the history of his regiment; or he +gets the soldiers to write down all they can remember of the war, and +then he puts their stories together." + +"How delightful!" said Breckon. "And I suppose it's a great pleasure to +him." + +"I don't believe it is," said Ellen. "Poppa doesn't believe in war any +more." + +"Indeed!" said Breckon. "That is very interesting." + +"Sometimes when I'm helping him with it--" + +"Ah, I knew you must help him!" + +"And he comes to a place where there has been a dreadful slaughter, it +seems as if he felt worse about it than I did. He isn't sure that it +wasn't all wrong. He thinks all war is wrong now." + +"Is he--has he become a follower of Tolstoy?" + +"He's read him. He says he's the only man that ever gave a true account +of battles; but he had thought it all out for himself before he read +Tolstoy about fighting. Do you think it is right to revenge an injury?" + +"Why, surely not!" said Breckon, rather startled. + +"That is what we say," the girl pursued. "But if some one had injured +you--abused your confidence, and--insulted you, what would you do?" + +"I'm not sure that I understand," Breckon began. The inquiry was +superficially impersonal, but he reflected that women are never +impersonal, or the sons of women, for that matter, and he suspected an +intimate ground. His suspicions were confirmed when Miss Kenton said: +"It seems easy enough to forgive anything that's done to yourself; but if +it's done to some one else, too, have you the right--isn't it wrong to +let it go?" + +"You think the question of justice might come in then? Perhaps it ought. +But what is justice? And where does your duty begin to be divided?" +He saw her following him with alarming intensity, and he shrank from the +responsibility before him. What application might not she make of his +words in the case, whatever it was, which he chose not to imagine? +"To tell you the truth, Miss Kenton, I'm not very clear on that point +--I'm not sure that I'm disinterested." + +"Disinterested?" + +"Yes; you know that I abused your confidence at luncheon; and until I +know whether the wrong involved any one else--" He looked at her with +hovering laughter in his eyes which took wing at the reproach in hers. +"But if we are to be serious--" + +"Oh no," she said, "it isn't a serious matter." But in the helplessness +of her sincerity she could not carry it off lightly, or hide from him +that she was disappointed. + +He tried to make talk about other things. She responded vaguely, and +when she had given herself time she said she believed she would go to +Lottie; she was quite sure she could get down the stairs alone. He +pursued her anxiously, politely, and at the head of her corridor took +leave of her with a distinct sense of having merited his dismissal. + +"I see what you mean, Lottie," she said, "about Mr. Breckon." + +Lottie did not turn her head on the pillow. "Has it taken you the whole +day to find it out?" + + + + +XII. + +The father and the mother had witnessed with tempered satisfaction the +interest which seemed to be growing up between Ellen and the young +minister. By this time they had learned not to expect too much of any +turn she might take; she reverted to a mood as suddenly as she left it. +They could not quite make out Breckon himself; he was at least as great a +puzzle to them as their own child was. + +"It seems," said Mrs. Kenton, in their first review of the affair, after +Boyne had done a brother's duty in trying to bring Ellen under their +mother's censure, "that he was the gentleman who discussed the theatre +with Boyne at the vaudeville last winter. Boyne just casually mentioned +it. I was so provoked!" + +"I don't see what bearing the fact has," the judge remarked. + +"Why, Boyne liked him very much that night, but now he seems to feel very +much as Lottie does about him. He thinks he laughs too much." + +"I don't know that there's much harm in that," said the judge. "And I +shouldn't value Boyne's opinion of character very highly." + +"I value any one's intuitions--especially children's." + +"Boyne's in that middle state where he isn't quite a child. And so is +Lottie, for that matter." + +"That is true," their mother assented. "And we ought to be glad of +anything that takes Ellen's mind off herself. If I could only believe +she was forgetting that wretch!" + +"Does she ever speak of him?" + +"She never hints of him, even. But her mind may be full of him all the +time." + +The judge laughed impatiently. "It strikes me that this young Mr. +Breckon hasn't much advantage of Ellen in what Lottie calls closeness!" + +"Ellen has always been very reserved. It would have been better for her +if she hadn't. Oh, I scarcely dare to hope anything! Rufus, I feel that +in everything of this kind we are very ignorant and inexperienced." + +"Inexperienced!" Renton retorted. "I don't want any more experience of +the kind Ellen has given us." + +"I don't mean that. I mean--this Mr. Breckon. I can't tell what +attracts him in the child. She must appear very crude and uncultivated +to him. You needn't resent it so! I know she's read a great deal, and +you've made her think herself intellectual--but the very simple- +heartedness of the way she would show out her reading would make such a +young man see that she wasn't like the girls he was used to. They would +hide their intellectuality, if they had any. It's no use your trying to +fight it Mr. Kenton. We are country people, and he knows it." + +"Tuskingum isn't country!" the judge declared. + +"It isn't city. And we don't know anything about the world, any of us. +Oh, I suppose we can read and write! But we don't know the a, b, c of +the things he, knows. He, belongs to a kind of society--of people-- +in New York that I had glimpses of in the winter, but that I never +imagined before. They made me feel very belated and benighted--as if I +hadn't, read or thought anything. They didn't mean to; but I couldn't +help it, and they couldn't." + +"You--you've been frightened out of your propriety by what you've seen in +New York," said her husband. + +"I've been frightened, certainly. And I wish you had been, too. I wish +you wouldn't be so conceited about Ellen. It scares me to see you so. +Poor, sick thing, her looks are all gone! You must see that. And she +doesn't dress like the girls he's used to. I know we've got her things +in New York; but she doesn't wear them like a New-Yorker. I hope she +isn't going in for MORE unhappiness!" + +At the thought of this the judge's crest fell. "Do you believe she's +getting interested in him?" he asked, humbly. + +"No, no; I don't say that. But promise me you won't encourage her in it. +And don't, for pity's sake, brag about her to him." + +"No, I won't," said the judge, and he tacitly repented having done so. + +The weather had changed, and when he went up from this interview with his +wife in their stateroom he found a good many people strung convalescently +along the promenade on their steamer-chairs. These, so far as they were +women, were of such sick plainness that when he came to Ellen his heart +throbbed with a glad resentment of her mother's aspersion of her health +and beauty. She looked not only very well, and very pretty, but in a gay +red cap and a trig jacket she looked, to her father's uncritical eyes, +very stylish. The glow left his heart at eight of the empty seat beside +her. + +"Where is Lottie?" he asked, though it was not Lottie's whereabouts +that interested him. + +"Oh, she's walking with Mr. Breckon somewhere," said Ellen. + +"Then she's made up her mind to tolerate him, has she?" the father +asked, more lightly than he felt. + +Ellen smiled. "That wasn't anything very serious, I guess. At any rate, +she's walking with him." + +"What book is that?" he asked, of the volume she was tilting back and +forth under her hand. + +She showed it. "One of his. He brought it up to amuse me, he said." + +"While he was amusing himself with Lottie," thought the judge, in his +jealousy for her. "It is going the same old way. Well!" What he said +aloud was, "And is it amusing you?" + +"I haven't looked at it yet," said the girl. "It's amusing enough to +watch the sea. Oh, poppa! I never thought I should care so much for +it." + +"And you're glad we came?" + +"I don't want to think about that. I just want to know that I'm here." +She pressed his arm gently, significantly, where he sat provisionally in +the chair beside her, and he was afraid to speak lest he should scare +away the hope her words gave him. + +He merely said, "Well, well!" and waited for her to speak further. But +her impulse had exhausted itself, as if her spirit were like one of those +weak forms of life which spend their strength in a quick run or flight, +and then rest to gather force for another. "Where's Boyne?" he asked, +after waiting for her to speak. + +"He was here a minute ago. He's been talking with some of the deck +passengers that are going home because they couldn't get on in America. +Doesn't that seem pitiful, poppa? I always thought we had work enough +for the whole world." + +"Perhaps these fellows didn't try very hard to find it," said the judge. + +"Perhaps," she assented. + +"I shouldn't want you to get to thinking that it's all like New York. +Remember how comfortable everybody is in Tuskingum." + +"Yes," she said, sadly. "How far off Tuskingum seems!" + +"Well, don't forget about it; and remember that wherever life is simplest +and purest and kindest, that is the highest civilization." + +"How much like old times it seems to hear you talk that way, poppa! +I should think I was in the library at home. And I made you leave it!" +she sighed. + +"Your mother was glad of any excuse. And it will do us all good, if we +take it in the right way," said the judge, with a didactic severity that +did not hide his pang from her. + +"Poor poppa!" she said. + +He went away, saying that he was going to look Lottie up. His simple +design was to send Lottie to her mother, so that Breckon might come back +to Ellen; but he did not own this to himself. + +Lottie returned from another direction with Boyne, and Ellen said, +"Poppa's gone to look for you." + +"Has he?" asked Lottie, dropping decisively into her chair. "Well, +there's one thing; I won't call him poppa any more." + +"What will you call him?" Boyne demanded, demurely. + +"I'll call him father, it you want to know; and I'm going to call momma, +mother. I'm not going to have those English laughing at us, and I won't +say papa and mamma. Everybody that knows anything says father and mother +now." + +Boyne kept looking from one sister to another during Lottie's +declaration, and, with his eyes on Ellen, he said, "It's true, Ellen. +All the Plumptons did." He was very serious. + +Ellen smiled. "I'm too old to change. I'd rather seem queer in Europe +than when I get back to Tuskingum." + +"You wouldn't be queer there a great while," said Lottie. "They'll all +be doing it in a week after I get home." + +Upon the encouragement given him by Ellen, Boyne seized the chance of +being of the opposition. "Yes," he taunted Lottie, "and you think +they'll say woman and man, for lady and gentleman, I suppose." + +"They will as soon as they know it's the thing." + +"Well, I know I won't," said Boyne. "I won't call momma a woman." + +"It doesn't matter what you do, Boyne dear," his sister serenely assured +him. + +While he stood searching his mind for a suitable retort, a young man, not +apparently many years his senior, came round the corner of the music- +room, and put himself conspicuously in view at a distance from the +Kentons. + +"There he is, now," said Boyne. "He wants to be introduced to Lottie." +He referred the question to Ellen, but Lottie answered for her. + +"Then why don't you introduce him?" + +"Well, I would if he was an American. But you can't tell about these +English." He resumed the dignity he had lost in making the explanation +to Lottie, and ignored her in turning again to Ellen. "What do you +think, Ellen?" + +"Oh, don't know about such things, Boyne," she said, shrinking from the +responsibility. + +"Well; upon my word!" cried Lottie. "If Ellen can talk by the hour with +that precious Mr. Breckon, and stay up here along with him, when +everybody else is down below sick, I don't think she can have a great +deal to say about a half-grown boy like that being introduced to me." + +"He's as old as you are," said Boyne, hotly. + +"Oh! I saw him associating with you, and I thought he was a boy, too. +Pardon me!" Lottie turned from giving Boyne his coup-de-grace, to plant +a little stab in Ellen's breast. "To be sure, now Mr. Breckon has found +those friends of his, I suppose he won't want to flirt with Ellen any +more." + +"Ah, ha, ha!" Boyne broke in. "Lottie is mad because he stopped to +speak to some ladies he knew. Women, I suppose she'd call them." + +"Well, I shouldn't call him a gentleman, anyway," said Lottie. + +The pretty, smooth-faced, fresh-faced young fellow whom their varying +debate had kept in abeyance, looked round at them over his shoulder as he +leaned on the rail, and seemed to discover Boyne for the first time. He +came promptly towards the Kentons. + +"Now," said Lottie, rapidly, "you'll just HAVE to." + +The young fellow touched his cap to the whole group, but he ventured to +address only Boyne. + +"Every one seems to be about this morning," he said, with the cheery +English-rising infection. + +"Yes," answered Boyne, with such snubbing coldness that Ellen's heart was +touched. + +"It's so pleasant," she said, "after that dark weather." + +"Isn't it?" cried the young fellow, gratefully. "One doesn't often get +such sunshine as this at sea, you know." + +"My sister, Miss Kenton, Mr. Pogis," Boyne solemnly intervened. "And +Miss Lottie Kenton." + +The pretty boy bowed to each in turn, but he made no pretence of being +there to talk with Ellen. "Have you been ill, too?" he actively +addressed himself to Lottie. + +"No, just mad," she said. "I wasn't very sick, and that made it all the +worse being down in a poky state-room when I wanted to walk." + +"And I suppose you've been making up for lost time this morning?" + +"Not half," said Lottie. + +"Oh, do finish the half with me!" + +Lottie instantly rose, and flung her sister the wrap she had been holding +ready to shed from the moment the young man had come up. "Keep that for +me, Nell. Are you good at catching?" she asked him. + +"Catching?" + +"Yes! People," she explained, and at a sudden twist of the ship she made +a clutch at his shoulder. + +"Oh! I think I can catch you." + +As they moved off together, Boyne said, "Well, upon my word!" but Ellen +did not say anything in comment on Lottie. After a while she asked, "Who +were the ladies that Mr. Breckon met?" + +"I didn't hear their names. They were somebody he hadn't seen before +since the ship started. They looked like a young lady and her mother. + +It made Lottie mad when he stopped to speak with them, and she wouldn't +wait till he could get through. Ran right away, and made me come, too." + + + + + +XIII. + +Breckon had not seen the former interest between himself and Ellen lapse +to commonplace acquaintance without due sense of loss. He suffered +justly, but he did not suffer passively, or without several attempts to +regain the higher ground. In spite of these he was aware of being +distinctly kept to the level which he accused himself of having chosen, +by a gentle acquiescence in his choice more fatal than snubbing. The +advances that he made across the table, while he still met Miss Kenton +alone there, did not carry beyond the rack supporting her plate. She +talked on whatever subject he started with that angelic sincerity which +now seemed so far from him, but she started none herself; she did not +appeal to him for his opinion upon any question more psychological than +the barometer; and, + + "In a tumultuous privacy of storm," + +he found himself as much estranged from her as if a fair-weather crowd +had surrounded them. He did not believe that she resented the levity he +had shown; but he had reason to fear that she had finally accepted it as +his normal mood, and in her efforts to meet him in it, as if he had no +other, he read a tolerance that was worse than contempt. When he tried +to make her think differently, if that was what she thought of him, he +fancied her rising to the notion he wished to give her, and then +shrinking from it, as if it must bring her the disappointment of some +trivial joke. + +It was what he had taught her to expect of him, and he had himself to +blame. Now that he had thrown that precious chance away, he might well +have overvalued it. She had certain provincialisms which he could not +ignore. She did not know the right use of will and shall, and would and +should, and she pronounced the letter 'r' with a hard mid-Western twist. +Her voice was weak and thin, and she could not govern it from being at +times a gasp and at times a drawl. She did not dress with the authority +of women who know more of their clothes than the people they buy them of; +she did not carry herself like a pretty girl; she had not the definite +stamp of young-ladyism. Yet she was undoubtedly a lady in every +instinct; she wore with pensive grace the clothes which she had not +subjected to her personal taste; and if she did not carry herself like a +pretty girl, she had a beauty which touched and entreated. + +More and more Breckon found himself studying her beauty--her soft, brown +brows, her gentle, dark eyes, a little sunken, and with the lids pinched +by suffering; the cheeks somewhat thin, but not colorless; the long chin, +the clear forehead, and the massed brown hair, that seemed too heavy for +the drooping neck. It was not the modern athletic type; it was rather of +the earlier period, when beauty was associated with the fragility +despised by a tanned and golfing generation. Ellen Kenton's wrists were +thin, and her hands long and narrow. As he looked at her across the +racks during those two days of storm, he had sometimes the wish to take +her long, narrow hands in his, and beg her to believe that he was +worthier her serious friendship than he had shown himself. What he was +sure of at all times now was that he wished to know the secret of that +patient pathos of hers. She was not merely, or primarily, an invalid. +Her family had treated her as an invalid, but, except Lottie, whose rigor +might have been meant sanatively, they treated her more with the +tenderness people use with a wounded spirit; and Breckon fancied moments +of something like humility in her, when she seemed to cower from his +notice. These were not so imaginable after her family took to their +berths and left her alone with him, but the touching mystery remained, a +sort of bewilderment, as he guessed it, a surprise such as a child might +show at some incomprehensible harm. It was this grief which he had +refused not merely to know--he still doubted his right to know it--but to +share; he had denied not only his curiosity but his sympathy, and had +exiled himself to a region where, when her family came back with the fair +weather, he felt himself farther from her than before their acquaintance +began. + +He had made an overture to its renewal in the book he lent her, and then +Mrs. Rasmith and her daughter had appeared on deck, and borne down upon +him when he was walking with Lottie Kenton and trying to begin his self- +retrieval through her. She had left him; but they had not, and in the +bonds of a prophet and his followers he found himself bound with them for +much more conversation than he had often held with them ashore. The +parochial duties of an ethical teacher were not strenuous, and Breckon +had not been made to feel them so definitely before. Mrs. Rasmith held +that they now included promising to sit at her table for the rest of the +voyage; but her daughter succeeded in releasing him from the obligation; +and it was she who smilingly detached the clinging hold of the elder +lady. "We mustn't keep Mr. Breckon from his friends, mother," she said, +brightly, and then he said he should like the pleasure of introducing +them, and both of the ladies declared that they would be delighted. + +He bowed himself off, and half the ship's-length away he was aware, from +meeting Lottie with her little Englishman, that it was she and not Ellen +whom he was seeking. As the couple paused in whirring past Breckon long +enough to let Lottie make her hat fast against the wind, he heard the +Englishman shout: + +"I say, that sister of yours is a fine girl, isn't she?" + +"She's a pretty good--looker," Lottie answered back. "What's the matter +with HER sister?" + +"Oh, I say!" her companion returned, in a transport with her slangy +pertness, which Breckon could not altogether refuse to share. + +He thought that he ought to condemn it, and he did condemn Mrs. Kenton +for allowing it in one of her daughters, when he came up to her sitting +beside another whom he felt inexpressibly incapable of it. Mrs. Kenton +could have answered his censure, if she had known it, that daughters, +like sons, were not what their mothers but what their environments made +them, and that the same environment sometimes made them different, as he +saw. She could have told him that Lottie, with her slangy pertness, had +the truest and best of the men she knew at her feet, and that Ellen, with +her meekness, had been the prey of the commonest and cheapest spirit in +her world, and so left him to make an inference as creditable to his sex +as he could. But this bold defence was as far from the poor lady as any +spoken reproach was from him. Her daughter had to check in her a +mechanical offer to rise, as if to give Breckon her place, the theory and +practice of Tuskingum being that their elders ought to leave young people +alone together. + +"Don't go, momma," Ellen whispered. "I don't want you to go." + +Breckon, when he arrived before them, remained talking on foot, and, +unlike Lottie's company, he talked to the mother. This had happened +before from him, but she had not got used to it, and now she deprecated +in everything but words his polite questions about her sufferings from +the rough weather, and his rejoicing that the worst was probably over. +She ventured the hope that it was so, for she said that Mr. Kenton had +about decided to keep on to Holland, and it seemed to her that they had +had enough of storms. He said he was glad that they were going right on; +and then she modestly recurred to the earlier opinion he had given her +husband that it would be better to spend the rest of the summer in +Holland than to go to Italy, as if she wished to conform herself in the +wisdom of Mr. Kenton's decision. He repeated his conviction, and he said +that if he were in their place he should go to The Hague as soon as they +had seen Rotterdam, and make it their headquarters for the exploration of +the whole country. + +"You can't realize how little it is; you can get anywhere in an hour; the +difficulty is to keep inside of Holland when you leave any given point. +I envy you going there." + +Mrs. Kenton inferred that he was going to stop in France, but if it were +part of his closeness not to tell, it was part of her pride not to ask. +She relented when he asked if he might get a map of his and prove the +littleness of Holland from it, and in his absence she could not well +avoid saying to Ellen, "He seems very pleasant." + +"Yes; why not?" the girl asked. + +"I don't know. Lottie is so against him." + +"He was very kind when you were all sick." + +"Well, you ought to know better than Lottie; you've seen him so much +more." Ellen was silent, and her mother advanced cautiously, "I suppose +he is very cultivated." + +"How can I tell? I'm not." + +"Why, Ellen, I think you are. Very few girls have read so much." + +"Yes, but he wouldn't care if I were cultivated, Ha is like all the rest. +He would like to joke and laugh. Well, I think that is nice, too, and I +wish I could do it. But I never could, and now I can't try. I suppose +he wonders what makes me such a dead weight on you all." + +"You know you're not that, Ellen! You musn't let yourself be morbid. It +hurts me to have you say such things." + +"Well, I should like to tell him why, and see what he would say." + +"Ellen!" + +"Why not? If he is a minister he must have thought about all kinds of +things. Do you suppose he ever knew of a girl before who had been +through what I have? Yes, I would like to know what he would really +say." + +"I know what he ought to say! If he knew, he would say that no girl had +ever behaved more angelically." + +"Do you think he would? Perhaps he would say that if I hadn't been so +proud and silly-- Here he comes! Shall we ask him?" + +Breckon approached with his map, and her mother gasped, thinking how +terrible such a thing would be if it could be; Ellen smiled brightly up +at him. "Will you take my chair? And then you can show momma your map. +I am going down," and while he was still protesting she was gone. + +"Miss Kenton seems so much better than she did the first day," he said, +as he spread the map out on his knees, and gave Mrs. Kenton one end to +hold. + +"Yes," the mother assented, as she bent over to look at it. + +She followed his explanation with a surface sense, while her nether mind +was full of the worry of the question which Ellen had planted in it. +What would such a man think of what she had been through? Or, rather, +how would he say to her the only things that in Mrs. Kenton's belief he +could say? How could the poor child ever be made to see it in the light +of some mind not colored with her family's affection for her? An +immense, an impossible longing possessed itself of the mother's heart, +which became the more insistent the more frantic it appeared. She +uttered "Yes" and "No" and "Indeed" to what he was saying, but all the +time she was rehearsing Ellen's story in her inner sense. In the end she +remembered so little what had actually passed that her dramatic reverie +seemed the reality, and when she left him she got herself down to her +state-room, giddy with the shame and fear of her imaginary self-betrayal. +She wished to test the enormity, and yet not find it so monstrous, by +submitting the case to her husband, and she could scarcely keep back her +impatience at seeing Ellen instead of her father. + +"Momma, what have you been saying to Mr. Breckon about me?" + +"Nothing," said Mrs. Kenton, aghast at first, and then astonished to +realize that she was speaking the simple truth. "He said how much better +you were looking; but I don't believe I spoke a single word. We were +looking at the map." + +"Very well," Ellen resumed. "I have been thinking it all over, and now I +have made up my mind." + +She paused, and her mother asked, tremulously, "About what, Ellen?" + +"You know, momma. I see all now. You needn't be afraid that I care +anything about him now," and her mother knew that she meant Bittridge, +"or that I ever shall. That's gone forever. But it's gone," she added, +and her mother quaked inwardly to hear her reason, "because the wrong and +the shame was all for me--for us. That's why I can forgive it, and +forget. If we had done anything, the least thing in the world, to +revenge ourselves, or to hurt him, then--Don't you see, momma?" + +"I think I see, Ellen." + +"Then I should have to keep thinking about it, and what we had made him +suffer, and whether we hadn't given him some claim. I don't wish ever to +think of him again. You and poppa were so patient and forbearing, all +through; and I thank goodness now for everything you put up with; only I +wish I could have borne everything myself." + +"You had enough to bear," Mrs. Kenton said, in tender evasion. + +"I'm glad that I had to bear so much, for bearing it is what makes me +free now." She went up to her mother and kissed her, and gazed into her +face with joyful, tearful looks that made her heart sink. + + + + +XIV. + +Mrs. Kenton did not rest till she had made sure from Lottie and Boyne +that neither of them had dropped any hint to Ellen of what happened to +Bittridge after his return to Tuskingum. She did not explain to them why +she was so very anxious to know, but only charged them the more solemnly +not to let the secret, which they had all been keeping from Ellen, escape +them. + +They promised, but Lottie said, "She's got to know it some time, and I +should think the sooner the better." + +"I will be judge of that, Lottie," said her mother, and Boyne seized his +chance of inculpating her with his friend, Mr. Pogis. He said she was +carrying on awfully with him already; and an Englishman could not +understand, and Boyne hinted that he would presume upon her American +freedom. + +"Well, if he does, I'll get you to cowhide him, Boyne," she retorted, and +left him fuming helplessly, while she went to give the young Englishman +an opportunity of resuming the flirtation which her mother had +interrupted. + +With her husband Mrs. Kenton found it practicable to be more explicit. +"I haven't had such a load lifted off my heart since I don't know when. +It shows me what I've thought all along: that Ellen hasn't really cared +anything for that miserable thing since he first began going with Mrs. +Uphill a year ago. When he wrote that letter to her in New York she +wanted to be sure she didn't, and when he offered himself and misbehaved +so to both of you, she was afraid that she and you were somehow to blame. +Now she's worked it out that no one else was wronged, and she is +satisfied. It's made her feel free, as she says. But, oh, dear me!" +Mrs. Kenton broke off, "I talk as if there was nothing to bind her; and +yet there is what poor Richard did! What would she say if she knew that? +I have been cautioning Lottie and Boyne, but I know it will come out +somehow. Do you think it's wise to keep it from her? Hadn't we better +tell her? Or shall we wait and see--" + +Kenton would not allow to her or to himself that his hopes ran with hers; +love is not business with a man as it is with a woman; he feels it +indecorous and indelicate to count upon it openly, where she thinks it +simply a chance of life, to be considered like another. All that Kenton +would say was, " I see no reason for telling her just yet. She will have +to know in due time. But let her enjoy her freedom now." + +"Yes," Mrs. Kenton doubtfully assented. + +The judge was thoughtfully silent. Then he said: "Few girls could have +worked out her problem as Ellen has. Think how differently Lottie would +have done it!" + +"Lottie has her good points, too," said Mrs. Kenton. "And, of course, I +don't blame Richard. There are all kinds of girls, and Lottie means no +more harm than Ellen does. She's the kind that can't help attracting; +but I always knew that Ellen was attractive, too, if she would only find +it out. And I knew that as soon as anything worth while took up her mind +she would never give that wretch another thought." + +Kenton followed her devious ratiocinations to a conclusion which he could +not grasp. "What do you mean, Sarah?" + +"If I only," she explained, in terms that did not explain, "felt as sure +of him as I do about him!" + +Her husband looked densely at her. "Bittridge?" + +"No. Mr. Breckon. He is very nice, Rufus. Yes, he is! He's been +showing me the map of Holland, and we've had a long talk. He isn't the +way we thought--or I did. He is not at all clerical, or worldly. And he +appreciates Ellen. I don't suppose he cares so much for her being +cultivated; I suppose she doesn't seem so to him. But he sees how wise +she is--how good. And he couldn't do that without being good himself! +Rufus! If we could only hope such a thing. But, of course, there are +thousands after him!" + +"There are not thousands of Ellens after him," said the judge, before he +could take time to protest. "And I don't want him to suppose that she is +after him at all. If he will only interest her and help her to keep her +mind off herself, it's all I will ask of him. I am not anxious to part +with her, now that she's all ours again." + +"Of course," Mrs. Kenton soothingly assented. "And I don't say that she +dreams of him in any such way. She can't help admiring his mind. But +what I mean is that when you see how he appreciates her, you can't help +wishing he could know just how wise, and just how good she is. It did +seem to me as if I would give almost anything to have him know what she +had been through with that--rapscallion!" + +"Sarah!" + +"Oh, you may Sarah me! But I can tell you what, Mr. Kenton: I believe +that you could tell him every word of it, and only make him appreciate +her the more. Till you know that about Ellen, you don't know what a +character she is. I just ached to tell him!" + +"I don't understand you, my dear," said Kenton. "But if you mean to tell +him--" + +"Why, who could imagine doing such a thing? Don't you see that it is +impossible? Such a thing would never have come into my head if it hadn't +been for some morbid talk of Ellen's." + +"Of Ellen's?" + +"Oh, about wanting to disgust him by telling him why she was such a +burden to us." + +"She isn't a burden!" + +"I am saying what she said. And it made me think that if such a person +could only know the high-minded way she had found to get out of her +trouble! I would like somebody who is capable of valuing her to value +her in all her preciousness. Wouldn't you be glad if such a man as he is +could know how and why she feels free at last?" + +"I don't think it's necessary," said Kenton, haughtily, "There's only one +thing that could give him the right to know it, and we'll wait for that +first. I thought you said that he was frivolous." + +"Boyne said that, and Lottie. I took it for granted, till I talked with +him to-day. He is light-hearted and gay; he likes to laugh and joke; but +he can be very serious when he wants to." + +"According to all precedent," said the judge, glumly, "such a man ought +to be hanging round Lottie. Everybody was that amounted to anything in +Tuskingum." + +"Oh, in Tuskingum! And who were the men there that amounted to anything? +A lot of young lawyers, and two students of medicine, and some railroad +clerks. There wasn't one that would compare with Mr. Breckon for a +moment." + +"All the more reason why he can't really care for Ellen. Now see here, +Sarah! You know I don't interfere with you and the children, but I'm +afraid you're in a craze about this young fellow. He's got these friends +of his who have just turned up, and we'll wait and see what he does with +them. I guess he appreciates the young lady as much as he does Ellen." + +Mrs. Kenton's heart went down. "She doesn't compare with Ellen!" she +piteously declared. + +"That's what we think. He may think differently." + +Mrs. Kenton was silenced, but all the more she was determined to make +sure that Mr. Breckon was not interested in Miss Rasmith in any measure +or manner detrimental to Ellen. As for Miss Rasmith herself, Mrs. Kenton +would have had greater reason to be anxious about her behavior with Boyne +than Mr. Breckon. From the moment that the minister had made his two +groups of friends acquainted, the young lady had fixed upon Boyne as that +member of the Kenton group who could best repay a more intimate +friendship. She was polite to them all, but to Boyne she was flattering, +and he was too little used to deference from ladies ten years his senior +not to be very sensible of her worth in offering it. To be unremittingly +treated as a grown-up person was an experience so dazzling that his +vision was blinded to any possibilities in the behavior that formed it; +and before the day ended Boyne had possessed Miss Rasmith of all that it +was important for any fellow-being to know of his character and history. +He opened his heart to eyes that had looked into others before his, less +for the sake of exploiting than of informing himself. In the rare +intelligence of Miss Rasmith he had found that serious patience with his +problems which no one else, not Ellen herself, had shown, and after +trying her sincerity the greater part of the day he put it to the supreme +test, one evening, with a book which he had been reading. Boyne's +literature was largely entomological and zoological, but this was a work +of fiction treating of the fortunes of a young American adventurer, who +had turned his military education to account in the service of a German +princess. Her Highness's dominions were not in any map of Europe, and +perhaps it was her condition of political incognito that rendered her the +more fittingly the prey of a passion for the American head of her armies. +Boyne's belief was that this character veiled a real identity, and he +wished to submit to Miss Rasmith the question whether in the exclusive +circles of New York society any young millionaire was known to have taken +service abroad after leaving west Point. He put it in the form of a +scoffing incredulity which it was a comfort to have her take as if almost +hurt by his doubt. She said that such a thing might very well be, and +with rich American girls marrying all sorts of titles abroad, it was not +impossible for some brilliant young fellow to make his way to the steps +of a throne. Boyne declared that she was laughing at him, and she +protested that it was the last thing she should think of doing; she was +too much afraid of him. Then he began to argue against the case supposed +in the romance; he proved from the book itself that the thing could not +happen; such a princess would not be allowed to marry the American, no +matter how rich he was. She owned that she had not heard of just such an +instance, and he might think her very romantic; and perhaps she was; but +if the princess was an absolute princess, such as she was shown in that +story, she held that no power on earth could keep her from marrying the +young American. For herself she did not see, though, how the princess +could be in love with that type of American. If she had been in the +princess's place she should have fancied something quite different. She +made Boyne agree with her that Eastern Americans were all, more or less, +Europeanized, and it stood to reason, she held, that a European princess +would want something as un-European as possible if she was falling in +love to please herself. They had some contention upon the point that the +princess would want a Western American; and then Miss Rasmith, with a +delicate audacity, painted an heroic portrait of Boyne himself which he +could not recognize openly enough to disown; but he perceived +resemblances in it which went to his head when she demurely rose, with a +soft "Good-night, Mr. Kenton. I suppose I mustn't call you Boyne?" + +"Oh yes, do!" he entreated. "I'm-I'm not grown up yet, you know." + +"Then it will be safe," she sighed. "But I should never have thought of +that. I had got so absorbed in our argument. You are so logical, Mr. +Kenton--Boyne, I mean--thank you. You must get it from your father. How +lovely your sister is!" + +"Ellen?" + +"Well, no. I meant the other one. But Miss Kenton is beautiful, too. +You must be so happy together, all of you." She added, with a rueful +smile, "There's only one of me! Good-night." + +Boyne did not know whether he ought not in humanity, if not gallantry, to +say he would be a brother to her, but while he stood considering, she put +out a hand to him so covered with rings that he was afraid she had hurt +herself in pressing his so hard, and had left him before he could decide. + +Lottie, walking the deck, had not thought of bidding Mr. Pogis good- +night. She had asked him half a dozen times how late it was, and when he +answered, had said as often that she knew better, and she was going below +in another minute. But she stayed, and the flow of her conversation +supplied him with occasion for the remarks of which he seldom varied the +formula. When she said something too audacious for silent emotion, he +called out, "Oh, I say!" If she advanced an opinion too obviously +acceptable, or asked a question upon some point where it seemed to him +there could not be two minds, he was ready with the ironical note, "Well, +rather!" At times she pressed her studies of his character and her +observations on his manner and appearance so far that he was forced to +protest, "You are so personal!" But these moments were rare; for the +most part, "Oh I say!" and "Well, rather!" perfectly covered the +ground. He did not generally mind her parody of his poverty of phrase, +but once, after she had repeated "Well rather!" and "Oh, I say!" +steadily at everything he said for the whole round of the promenade they +were making, he intimated that there were occasions when, in his belief, +a woman's abuse of the freedom generously allowed her sex passed the +point of words. + +"And when it passes the point of words" she taunted him, "what do you +do?" + +"You will see," he said, "if it ever does," and Lottie felt justified by +her inference that he was threatening to kiss her, in answering: + +"And if I ever SEE, I will box your ears." + +"Oh, I say!" he retorted. "I should like to have you try." + +He had ideas of the rightful mastery of a man in all things, which she +promptly pronounced brutal, and when he declared that his father's +conduct towards his wife and children was based upon these ideas, she +affirmed the superiority of her own father's principles and behavior. +Mr. Pogis was too declared an admirer of Judge Kenton to question his +motives or method in anything, and he could only generalize, "The +Americans spoil their women." + +"Well, their women are worth it," said Lottie, and after allowing the +paradox time to penetrate his intelligence, he cried out, in a glad +transport: + +"Oh, I SAY!" + +At the moment Boyne's intellectual seance with Miss Rasmith was coming to +an end. Lottie had tacitly invited Mr. Pogis to prolong the comparison +of English and American family life by stopping in front of a couple of +steamer-chairs, and confessing that she was tired to death. They sat +down, and he told her about his mother, whom, although his father's +subordinate, he seemed to be rather fonder of. He had some elder +brothers, most of them in the colonies, and he had himself been out to +America looking at something his father had found for him in Buffalo. + +"You ought to come to Tuskingum," said Lottie. + +"Is that a large place?" Mr. Pogis asked. "As large as Buffalo?" + +"Well, no," Lottie admitted. "But it's a growing place. And we have the +best kind of times." + +"What kind?" The young man easily consented to turn the commercial into +a social inquiry. + +"Oh, picnics, and river parties, and buggy-rides, and dances." + +"I'm keen on dancing," said Mr. Pogis. "I hope they'll give us a dance +on board. Will you put me down for the first dance?" + +"I don't care. Will you send me some flowers? The steward must have +some left in the refrigerator." + +"Well, rather! I'll send you a spray, if he's got enough." + +"A spray? What's a spray?" + +"Oh, I say! My sister always wears one. It's a long chain of flowers +reachin' from your shoulder diagonally down to your waist." + +Does your sister always have her sprays sent to her?" + +"Well, rather! Don't they send flowers to girls for dances in the +States?" + +"Well, rather! Didn't I just ask you?" + +This was very true, and after a moment of baffle Mr. Pogis said, in +generalization, "If you go with a young lady in a party to the theatre +you send her a box of chocolates." + +"Only when you go to theatre! I couldn't get enough, then, unless you +asked me every night," said Lottie, and while Mr. Pogis was trying to +choose between "Oh, I say!" and something specific, like, "I should like +to ask you every night," she added, "And what would happen if you sent a +girl a spray for the theatre and chocolates for a dance? Wouldn't it jar +her?" + +Now, indeed, there was nothing for him but to answer, "Oh, I say!" + +"Well, say, then! Here comes Boyne, and I must go. Well, Boyne," she +called, from the dark nook where she sat, to her brother as he stumbled +near, with his eyes to the stars, "has the old lady retired?" + +He gave himself away finely. "What old lady!" + +"Well, maybe at your age you don't consider her very old. But I don't +think a boy ought to sit up mooning at his grandmother all night. I know +Miss Rasmith's no relation, if that's what you're going to say!" + +"Oh, I say!" Mr. Pogis chuckled. "You are so personal." + +"Well, rather!" said Lottie, punishing his presumption. "But I don't +think it's nice for a kid, even if she isn't." + +"Kid!" Boyne ground, through his clenched teeth. + +By this time Lottie was up out of her chair and beyond repartee in her +flight down the gangway stairs. She left the two youngsters confronted. + +"What do you say to a lemon-squash?" asked Mr. Pogis, respecting his +friend's wounded dignity, and ignoring Lottie and her offence. + +"I don't care if I do," said Boyne in gloomy acquiescence. + + + + +XV. + +Few witnesses of the fact that Julia Rasmith and her mother had found +themselves on the same steamer with the Rev. Hugh Breckon would have been +of such a simple mind as to think they were there by accident, if they +had also been witnesses of their earlier history. The ladies could have +urged that in returning from California only a few days before the Amstel +sailed, and getting a state-room which had been unexpectedly given up, +they had some claim to a charitable interpretation of their behavior, but +this plea could not have availed them with any connoisseur of women. +Besides, it had been a matter of notoriety among such of Mr. Breckon's +variegated congregation as knew one another that Mrs. Rasmith had set her +heart on him, it Julia had not set her cap for him. In that pied flock, +where every shade and dapple of doubt, from heterodox Jew to agnostic +Christian, foregathered, as it has been said, in the misgiving of a +blessed immortality, the devotion of Mrs. Rasmith to the minister had +been almost a scandal. Nothing had saved the appearance from this +character but Mr. Breckon's open acceptance of her flatteries and +hospitalities; this was so frank, and the behavior of Julia herself so +judicious under the circumstances, that envy and virtue were, if not +equally silenced, equally baffled. So far from pretending not to see her +mother's manoeuvres, Julia invited public recognition of them; in the way +of joking, which she kept within the limits of filial fondness, she made +fun of her mother's infatuation to Breckon himself, and warned him +against the moment when her wiles might be too much for him. Before +other people she did not hesitate to save him from her mother, so that +even those who believed her in the conspiracy owned that no girl could +have managed with more cleverness in a situation where not every one +would have refused to be placed. In this situation Julia Rasmith had the +service of a very clear head, and as was believed by some, a cool heart; +if she and her mother had joint designs upon the minister, hers was the +ambition, and her mother's the affection that prompted them. She was a +long, undulant girl, of a mixed blondness that left you in doubt, after +you had left her, whether her hair or her complexion were not of one +tint; but her features were good, and there could be no question of her +captivating laugh, and her charming mouth, which she was always pulling +down with demure irony. She was like her mother in her looks, but her +indolent, droning temperament must have been from her father, whose +memory was lost in that antiquity which swallows up the record of so many +widows' husbands, and who could not have left her what was left of her +mother's money, for none of it had ever been his. It was still her +mother's, and it was supposed to be the daughter's chief attraction. +There must, therefore, have been a good deal of it, for those who were +harshest with the minister did not believe that a little money would +attract him. Not that they really thought him mercenary; some of his +people considered him gay to the verge of triviality, but there were none +that accused him of insincerity. They would have liked a little more +seriousness in him, especially when they had not much of their own, and +would have had him make up in severity of behavior for what he lacked, +and what they wished him to lack, in austerity of doctrine. + +The Amstel had lost so much time in the rough weather of her first days +out that she could not make it up with her old-fashioned single screw. +She was at best a ten-day boat, counting from Sandy Hook to Boulogne, and +she had not been four days out when she promised to break her record for +slowness. Three days later Miss Rasmith said to Breckon, as he took the +chair which her mother agilely abandoned to him beside her: "The head +steward says it will be a twelve-day trip, end our bedroom steward thinks +more. What is the consensus of opinion in the smoking-room? Where are +you going, mother? Are you planning to leave Mr. Breckon and me alone +again? It isn't necessary. We couldn't get away from each other if we +tried, and all we ask-- Well, I suppose age must he indulged in its +little fancies," she called after Mrs. Rasmith. + +Breckon took up the question she had asked him. "The odds are so heavily +in favor of a fifteen-days' run that there are no takers." + +"Now you are joking again," she said. "I thought a sea-voyage might make +you serious." + +"It has been tried before. Besides, it's you that I want to be serious." + +"What about? Besides, I doubt it." + +"About Boyne." + +"Oh! I thought you were going to say some one else." + +"No, I think that is very well settled." + +"You'll never persuade my mother," said Miss Rasmith, with a low, +comfortable laugh. + +"But if you are satisfied--" + +"She will have to resign herself? Well, perhaps. But why do you wish me +to be serious about Boyne?" + +"I have no doubt he amuses you. But that doesn't seem a very good reason +why you should amuse yourself with him." + +"No? Why not?" + +"Well, because the poor boy is in earnest; and you're not exactly-- +contemporaries." + +"Why, how old is Boyne?" she asked, with affected surprise. + +"About fifteen, I think," said Breckon, gravely. + +"And I'm but a very few months past thirty. I don't see the great +disparity. But he is merely a brother to me--an elder brother--and he +gives me the best kind of advice." + +"I dare say you need it, but all the same, I am afraid you are putting +ideas into his head." + +"Well, if he began it? If he put them in mine first?" + +She was evidently willing that he should go further, and create the +common ground between them that grows up when one gives a reproof and the +other accepts it; but Breckon, whether he thought that he had now done +his duty, and need say no more, or because he was vexed with her, left +the subject. + +"Mrs. Rasmith says you are going to Switzerland for the rest of the +summer." + +"Yes, to Montreux. Are you going to spend it in Paris?" + +"I'm going to Paris to see. I have had some thoughts of Etretat; I have +cousins there." + +"I wish that I could go to the sea-side. But this happens to be one of +the summers when nothing but mountains can save my mother's life. Shall +you get down to Rome before you go back?" + +"I don't know. If I sail from Naples I shall probably pass through +Rome." + +"You had better stop off. We shall be there in November, and they say +Rome is worth seeing," she laughed demurely. "That is what Boyne +understands. He's promised to use his influence with his family to let +him run down to see us there, if he can't get them all to come. You +might offer to personally conduct them." + +"Yes." said Breckon, with the effect of cloture. "Have you made many +acquaintances an board?" + +"What! Two lone women? You haven't introduced us to any but the +Kentons. But I dare say they are the best. The judge is a dear, and +Mrs. Kenton is everything that is motherly and matronly. Boyne says she +is very well informed, and knows all about the reigning families. If he +decides to marry into them, she can be of great use in saving him from a +mesalliance. I can't say very much for Miss Lottie. Miss Lottie seems +to me distinctly of the minx type. But that poor, pale girl is adorable. +I wish she liked me!" + +"What makes you think she doesn't like you?" Breckon asked. + +"What? Women don't require anything to convince them that other women +can't bear them. They simply know it. I wonder what has happened to +her?" + +"Why do you think anything has happened to her?" + +"Why? Well, girls don't have that air of melanholy absence for nothing. +She is brooding upon something, you may be sure. But you have had so +many more opportunities than I! Do you mean that you haven't suspected a +tragical past far her?" + +"I don't know," said Breckon, a little restively, "that I have allowed +myself to speculate about her past." + +"That is, you oughtn't to have allowed yourself to do so. Well, there I +agree with you. But a woman may do so without impertinence, and I am +sure that Miss Kenton has a story. I have watched her, and her face has +told me everything but the story." + +Breckon would not say that some such revelation had been made to him, and +in the absence of an answer from him Miss Rasmith asked, "Is she +cultivated, too?" + +"Too?" + +"Like her mother." + +"Oh! I should say she had read a good dial. And she's bookish, yes, in +a simple-hearted kind of way." + +"She asks you if you have read 'the book of the year,' and whether you +don't think the heroine is a beautiful character?" + +"Not quite so bad as that. But if you care to be serious about her!" + +"Oh, I do!" + +"I doubt it. Then, I should say that she seems to have grown up in a +place where the interests are so material that a girl who was disposed to +be thoughtful would be thrown back upon reading for her society more than +in more intellectual centres--if there are such things. She has been so +much with books that she does not feel odd in speaking of them as if they +were the usual topics of conversation. It gives her a certain +quaintness." + +"And that is what constitutes her charm?" + +"I didn't know that we were speaking of her charm." + +"No, that is true. But I was thinking of it. She fascinates me. Are +they going to get off at Boulogne?" + +"No, they are going on to Rotterdam." + +"To be sure! Boyne told me. And are you going on with them?" + +"I thought we talked of my going to Paris." Breckon looked round at her, +and she made a gesture of deprecation. + +"Why, of course! How could I forget? But I'm so much interested in Miss +Kenton that I can't think of anything else." + +"Not even of Miss Rasmith?" + +"Not even of Miss Rasmith. I know that she has a history, and that it's +a sad one." She paused in ironical hesitation. "You've been so good as +to caution me about her brother--and I never can be grateful enough--and +that makes me almost free to suggest--" + +She stopped again, and he asked, hardily, "What?" + +"Oh, nothing. It isn't for me to remind my pastor, my ghostly adviser"-- +she pulled down her mouth and glanced at him demurely--" and I will only +offer the generalization that a girl is never so much in danger of having +her heart broken as when she's had it broken--Oh, are you leaving me?" +she cried, as Breckon rose from his chair. + +"Well, then, send Boyne to me." She broke into a laugh as he faltered. +"Are you going to sit down again? That is right. And I won't talk any +more about Miss Kenton." + +"I don't mind talking of her," said Breckon. "Perhaps it will even be +well to do so if you are in earnest. Though it strikes me that you have +rather renounced the right to criticise me." + +"Now, is that logical? It seems to me that in putting myself in the +attitude of a final friend at the start, and refusing to be anything +more, I leave established my right to criticise you on the firmest basis. +I can't possibly be suspected of interested motives. Besides, you've +just been criticizing me, if you want a woman's reason!" + +"Well, go on." + +"Why, I had finished. That's the amusing part. I should have supposed +that I could go on forever about Miss Kenton, but I have nothing to go +upon. She has kept her secret very well, and so have the rest of them. +You think I might have got it out of Boyne? Perhaps I might, but you +know I have my little scruples. I don't think it would he quite fair, or +quite nice." + +"You are scrupulous. And I give you credit for having been more delicate +than I've been." + +"You don't mean you've been trying to find it out!" + +"Ah, now I'm not sure about the superior delicacy!" + +"Oh, how good!" said Miss Rasmith. " What a pity you should be wasted +in a calling that limits you so much." + +"You call it limiting? I didn't know but I had gone too far." + +"Not at all! You know there's nothing I like so much as those little +digs." + +"I had forgotten. Then you won't mind my saying that this surveillance +seems to me rather more than I have any right to from you." + +"How exquisitely you put it! Who else could have told me to mind my own +business so delightfully? Well, it isn't my business. I acknowledge +that, and I spoke only because I knew you would be sorry if you had gone +too far. I remembered our promise to be friends." + +She threw a touch of real feeling into her tone, and he responded, "Yes, +and I thank you for it, though it isn't easy." + +She put out her hand to him, and, as he questioningly took it, she +pressed his with animation. " Of course it isn't! Or it wouldn't be for +any other man. But don't you suppose I appreciate that supreme courage +of yours? There is nobody else-nobody!--who could stand up to an +impertinence and turn it to praise by such humility." + +"Don't go too far, or I shall be turning your praise to impertinence by +my humility. You're quite right, though, about the main matter. I +needn't suppose anything so preposterous as you suggest, to feel that +people are best left alone to outlive their troubles, unless they are of +the most obvious kind." + +"Now, if I thought I had done anything to stop you from offering that +sort of helpfulness which makes you a blessing to everybody, I should +never forgive myself." + +"Nothing so dire as that, I believe. But if you've made me question the +propriety of applying the blessing in all cases, you have done a very +good thing." + +Miss Rasmith was silent and apparently serious. After a moment she said, +"And I, for my part, promise to let poor little Boyne alone." + +Breckon laughed. "Don't burlesque it! Besides, I haven't promised +anything." + +"That is very true," said Miss Rasmith, and she laughed, too. + + + + +XVI. + +In one of those dramatic reveries which we all hold with ourselves when +fortune has pressingly placed us, Ellen Kenton had imagined it possible +for her to tell her story to the man who had so gently and truly tried to +be her friend. It was mostly in the way of explaining to him how she was +unworthy of his friendship that the story was told, and she fancied +telling it without being scandalized at violating the conventions that +should have kept her from even dreaming of such a thing. It was all +exalted to a plane where there was no question of fit or unfit in doing +it, but only the occasion; and he would never hear of the unworthiness +which she wished to ascribe to herself. Sometimes he mournfully left her +when she persisted, left her forever, and sometimes he refused, and +retained with her in a sublime kindness, a noble amity, lofty and serene, +which did not seek to become anything else. In this case she would break +from her reveries with self-accusing cries, under her breath, of "Silly, +silly! Oh, how disgusting!" and if at that moment Breckon were really +coming up to sit by her, she would blush to her hair, and wish to run +away, and failing the force for this, would sit cold and blank to his +civilities, and have to be skilfully and gradually talked back to self- +respect and self-tolerance. + +The recurrence of these reveries and their consequence in her made it +difficult for him to put in effect the promise he had given himself in +Miss Rasmith's presence. If Ellen had been eager to welcome his coming, +it would have been very simple to keep away from her, but as she appeared +anxious to escape him, and had to be entreated, as it were, to suffer his +society, something better than his curiosity was piqued, though that was +piqued, too. He believed that he saw her lapsing again into that morbid +state from which he had seemed once able to save her, and he could not +help trying again. He was the more bound to do so by the ironical +observance of Miss Rasmith, who had to be defied first, and then +propitiated; certainly, when she saw him apparently breaking faith with +her, she had a right to some sort of explanation, but certainly also she +had no right to a blind and unreasoning submission from him. His +embarrassment was heightened by her interest in Miss Kenton, whom, with +an admirable show of now finding her safe from Breckon's attractions, she +was always wishing to study from his observation. What was she really +like? The girl had a perfect fascination for her; she envied him his +opportunities of knowing her, and his privileges of making that +melancholy face light up with that heart-breaking smile, and of banishing +that delicious shyness with which she always seemed to meet him. Miss +Rasmith had noticed it; how could she help noticing it? + +Breckon wished to himself that she had been able to help noticing it, or +were more capable of minding her own business than she showed herself, +and his heart closed about Ellen with a tenderness that was dangerously +indignant. At the same time he felt himself withheld by Miss Rasmith's +witness from being all to the girl that he wished to be, and that he now +seemed to have been in those first days of storm, while Miss Rasmith and +her mother were still keeping their cabin. He foresaw that it would end +in Miss Rasmith's sympathetic nature not being able to withhold itself +from Ellen's need of cheerful companionship, and he was surprised, as +little as he was pleased, one morning, when he came to take the chair +beside her to find Miss Rasmith in it, talking and laughing to the girl, +who perversely showed herself amused. Miss Rasmith made as if to offer +him the seat, but he had to go away disappointed, after standing long +enough before them to be aware that they were suspending some topic while +he stayed. + +He naturally supposed the topic to be himself, but it was not so, or at +least not directly so. It was only himself as related to the scolding he +had given Miss Rasmith for trifling with the innocence of Boyne, which +she wished Miss Kenton to understand as the effect of a real affection +for her brother. She loved all boys, and Boyne was simply the most +delightful creature in the world. She went on to explain how delightful +he was, and showed a such an appreciation of the infantile sweetness +mingled with the mature severity of Boyne's character that Ellen could +not help being pleased and won. She told some little stories of Boyne +that threw a light also their home life in Tuskingum, and Miss Rasmith +declared herself perfectly fascinated, and wished that she could go and +live in Tuskingum. She protested that she should not find it dull; Boyne +alone would be entertainment enough; and she figured a circumstance so +idyllic from the hints she had gathered, that Ellen's brow darkened in +silent denial, and Miss Rasmith felt herself, as the children say in the +game, very hot in her proximity to the girl's secret. She would have +liked to know it, but whether she felt that she could know it when she +liked enough, or whether she should not be so safe with Breckon in +knowing it, she veered suddenly away, and said that she was so glad to +have Boyne's family know the peculiar nature of her devotion, which did +not necessarily mean running away with him, though it might come to that. +She supposed she was a little morbid about it from what Mr. Breckon had +been saying; he had a conscience that would break the peace of a whole +community, though he was the greatest possible favorite, not only with +his own congregation, which simply worshipped him, but with the best +society, where he was in constant request. + +It was not her fault if she did not overdo these history, but perhaps it +was all true about the number of girls who were ready and willing to +marry him. It might even be true, though she had no direct authority for +saying it, that he had made up his mind never to marry, and that was the +reason why he felt himself so safe in being the nicest sort of friend. +He was safe, Miss Rasmith philosophized, but whether other people were so +safe was a different question. There were girls who were said to be +dying for him; but of course those things were always said about a +handsome young minister. She had frankly taken him on his own ground, +from the beginning, and she believed that this was what he liked. At any +rate, they had agreed that they were never to be anything but the best of +friends, and they always had been. + +Mrs. Kenton came and shyly took the chair on Miss Rasmith's other side, +and Miss Rasmith said they had been talking about Mr. Breckon, and she +repeated what she had been saying to Ellen. Mrs. Kenton assented more +openly than Ellen could to her praises, but when she went away, and her +daughter sat passive, without comment or apparent interest, the mother +drew a long, involuntary sigh. + +"Do you like her, Ellen?" + +"She tries to be pleasant, I think." + +"Do you think she really knows much about Mr. Breckon?" + +"Oh yes. Why not? She belongs to his church." + +"He doesn't seem to me like a person who would have a parcel of girls +tagging after him." + +"That is what they do in the East, Boyne says." + +"I wish she would let Boyne alone. She is making a fool of the child. +He's round with her every moment. I think she ought to be ashamed, such +an old thing!" + +Ellen chose to protest, or thought it fair to do so. "I don't believe +she is doing him any harm. She just lets him talk out, and everybody +else checks him up so. It was nice of her to come and talk with me, when +we had all been keeping away from her. Perhaps he sent her, though. She +says they have always been such good friends because she wouldn't be +anything else from the beginning." + +"I don't see why she need have told you that." + +"Oh, it was just to show he was run after. I wonder if he thinks we are +running after him? Momma, I am tired of him! I wish he wouldn't speak +to me any more." + +"Why! do you really dislike him, Ellen?" + +"No, not dislike him. But it tires me to have him trying to amuse me. +Don't you understand?" + +Mrs. Kenton said yes, she understood, but she was clear only of the fact +that Ellen seemed flushed and weak at that moment. She believed that it +was Miss Rasmith and not Mr. Breckon who was to blame, but she said: +"Well, you needn't worry about it long. It will only be a day or two now +till we get to Boulogne, and then he will leave us. Hadn't you better go +down now, and rest awhile in your berth? I will bring your things." + +Ellen rose, pulling her wraps from her skirts to give them to her mother. +A voice from behind said between their meeting shoulders: "Oh, are you +going down? I was just coming to beg Miss Kenton to take a little walk +with me," and they looked round together and met Breckon's smiling face. + +"I'm afraid," Mrs. Kenton began, and then, like a well-trained American +mother, she stopped and left the affair to her daughter. + +"Do you think you can get down with them, momma?" the girl asked, and +somehow her mother's heart was lightened by her evasion, not to call it +uncandor. It was at least not morbid, it was at least like other girls, +and Mrs. Kenton imparted what comfort there was in it to the judge, when +he asked where she had left Ellen. + +"Not that it's any use," she sighed, when she had seen him share it with +a certain shamefacedness. "That woman has got her grip on him, and she +doesn't mean to let go." + +Kenton understood Miss Rasmith by that woman; but he would not allow +himself to be so easily cast down. This was one of the things that +provoked Mrs. Kenton with him; when he had once taken hope he would not +abandon it without reason. "I don't see any evidence of her having her +grip on him. I've noticed him, and he doesn't seem attentive to her. +I should say he tried to avoid her. He certainly doesn't avoid Ellen." + +"What are you thinking of, Rufus?" + +"What are you? You know we'd both be glad if he fancied her." + +"Well, suppose we would? I don't deny it. He is one of the most +agreeable gentlemen I ever saw; one of the kindest and nicest." + +"He's more than that," said the judge. "I've been sounding him on +various points, and I don't see where he's wrong. Of course, I don't +know much about his religious persuasion, if it is one, but I think I'm a +pretty fair judge of character, and that young man has character. He +isn't a light person, though he likes joking and laughing, and he +appreciates Ellen." + +"Yes, so do we. And there's about as much prospect of his marrying her. +Rufus, it's pretty hard! She's just in the mood to be taken with him, +but she won't let herself, because she knows it's of no use. That Miss +Rasmith has been telling her how much he is run after, and I could see +that that settled it for Ellen as plainly as if she said so. More +plainly, for there's enough of the girl in her to make her say one thing +when she means another. She was just saying she was sick of him, and +never wanted to speak to him again, when he came up and asked her to +walk, and she went with him instantly. I knew what she meant. She +wasn't going to let him suppose that anything Miss Rasmith had said was +going to change her." + +"Well, then," said the judge, "I don't see what you're scared at." + +I'm not SCARED. But, oh, Rufus! It can't come to anything! There isn't +time!" An hysterical hope trembled in her asseveration of despair that +made him smile. + +"I guess if time's all that's wanted--" + +"He is going to get off at Boulogne." + +"Well, we can get off there, too." + +"Rufus, if you dare to think of such a thing!" + +"I don't. But Europe isn't so big but what he can find us again if he +wants to." + +"Ah, if he wants to!" + +Ellen seemed to have let her mother take her languor below along with the +shawls she had given her. Buttoned into a close jacket, and skirted +short for the sea, she pushed against the breeze at Breckon's elbow with +a vigor that made him look his surprise at her. Girl-like, she took it +that something was wrong with her dress, and ran herself over with an +uneasy eye. + +Then he explained: "I was just thinking how much you were like Miss +Lottie-if you'll excuse my being so personal. And it never struck me +before." + +"I didn't suppose we looked alike," said Ellen. + +"No, certainly. I shouldn't have taken you for sisters. And yet, just +now, I felt that you were like her. You seem so much stronger this +morning--perhaps it's that the voyage is doing you good. Shall you be +sorry to have it end?" + +"Shall you? That's the way Lottie would answer." + +Breckon laughed. "Yes, it is. I shall be very sorry. I should be +willing to have it rough again, it that would make it longer. I liked +it's being rough. We had it to ourselves." He had not thought how that +sounded, but if it sounded particular, she did not notice it. + +She merely said, "I was surprised not to be seasick, too." + +"And should you be willing to have it rough again?" + +"You wouldn't see anything more of your friends, then." + +"Ah, yes; Miss Rasmith. She is a great talker, Did you find her +interesting?" + +"She was very interesting." + +"Yes? What did she talk about?" + +Ellen realized the fact too late to withhold "Why, about you." + +"And was that what made her interesting?" + +"Now, what would Lottie say to such a thing as that?" asked Ellen, +gayly. + +"Something terribly cutting, I'm afraid. But don't you! From you I +don't want to believe I deserve it, no matter what Miss Rasmith said me." + +"Oh, she didn't say anything very bad. Unless you mind being a universal +favorite." + +"Well, it makes a man out rather silly." + +"But you can't help that." + +"Now you remind me of Miss Lottie again!" + +"But I didn't mean that," said Ellen, blushing and laughing. "I hope you +wouldn't think I could be so pert." + +"I wouldn't think anything that wasn't to your praise," said Breckon, and +a pause ensued, after which the words he added seemed tame and flat. +"I suspect Miss Rasmith has been idealizing the situation. At any rate, +I shouldn't advise you to trust her report implicitly. I'm at the head +of a society, you know, ethical or sociological, or altruistic, whatever +you choose to call it, which hasn't any very definite object of worship, +and yet meets every Sunday for a sort of worship; and I have to be in the +pulpit. So you see?" + +Ellen said, "I think I understand," with a temptation to smile at the +ruefulness of his appeal. + +Breckon laughed for her. "That's the mischief and the absurdity of it. +But it isn't so bad as it seems. They're really most of them hard-headed +people; and those that are not couldn't make a fool of a man that nature +hadn't begun with. Still, I'm not very well satisfied with my work among +them--that is, I'm not satisfied with myself." He was talking soberly +enough, and he did not find that she was listening too seriously. "I'm +going away to see whether I shall come back." He looked at her to make +sure that she had taken his meaning, and seemed satisfied that she had. +"I'm not sure that I'm fit for any sort of ministry, and I may find the +winter in England trying to find out. I was at school in England, you +know." + +Ellen confessed that she had not known that. + +"Yes; I suppose that's what made me seem 'so Englishy' the first day to +Miss Lottie, as she called it. But I'm straight enough American as far +as parentage goes. Do you think you will be in England-later?" + +"I don't know. If poppa gets too homesick we will go back in the fall." + +"Miss Kenton," said the young man, abruptly, "will you let me tell you +how much I admire and revere your father?" + +Tears came into her eyes and her throat swelled. "But you don't know," +she begun; and then she stopped. + +"I have been wanting to submit something to his judgment; but I've been +afraid. I might seem to be fishing for his favor." + +"Poppa wouldn't think anything that was unjust," said Ellen, gravely. + +"Ah," Breckon laughed, "I suspect that I should rather have him unjust. +I wish you'd tell me what he would think." + +"But I don't know what it is," she protested, with a reflected smile. + +"I was in hopes Miss Rasmith might have told you. Well, it is simply +this, and you will see that I'm not quite the universal favorite she's +been making you fancy me. There is a rift in my lute, a schism in my +little society, which is so little that I could not have supposed there +was enough of it to break in two. There are some who think their +lecturer--for that's what I amount to--ought to be an older, if not a +graver man. They are in the minority, but they're in the right, I'm +afraid; and that's why I happen to be here telling you all this. It's +a question of whether I ought to go back to New York or stay in London, +where there's been a faint call for me." He saw the girl listening +devoutly, with that flattered look which a serious girl cannot keep out +of her face when a man confides a serious matter to her. "I might safely +promise to be older, but could I keep my word if I promised to be graver? +That's the point. If I were a Calvinist I might hold fast by faith, and +fight it out with that; or if I were a Catholic I could cast myself upon +the strength of the Church, and triumph in spite of temperament. Then it +wouldn't matter whether I was grave or gay; it might be even better if I +were gay. But," he went on, in terms which, doubtless, were not then for +the first time formulated in his mind, "being merely the leader of a sort +of forlorn hope in the Divine Goodness, perhaps I have no right to be so +cheerful." + +The note of a sad irony in his words appealed to such indignation for him +in Ellen as she never felt for herself. But she only said, "I don't +believe Poppa could take that in the wrong way if you told him." + +Breckon stared. "Yes your father! What would he say?" + +"I can't tell you. But I'm sure he would know what you meant." + +"And you," he pursued, "what should YOU say?" + +"I? I never thought about such a thing. You mustn't ask me, if you're +serious; and if you're not--" + +"But I am; I am deeply serious. I would like, to know how the case +strikes you. I shall be so grateful if you will tell me." + +"I'm sorry I can't, Mr. Breckon. Why don't you ask poppa?" + +"No, I see now I sha'n't be able. I feel too much, after telling you, as +if I had been posing. The reality has gone out of it all. And I'm +ashamed." + +"You mustn't be," she said, quietly; and she added, "I suppose it would +be like a kind of defeat if you didn't go back?" + +"I shouldn't care for the appearance of defeat," he said, courageously. +"The great question is, whether somebody else wouldn't be of more use in +my place." + +"Nobody could be," said she, in a sort of impassioned absence, and then +coming to herself, "I mean, they wouldn't think so, I don't believe." + +"Then you advise--" + +"No, no! I can't; I don't. I'm not fit to have an opinion about such a +thing; it would be crazy. But poppa--" + +They were at the door of the gangway, and she slipped within and left +him. His nerves tingled, and there was a glow in his breast. It was +sweet to have surprised that praise from her, though he could not have +said why he should value the praise or a girl of her open ignorance and +inexperience in everything that would have qualified her to judge him. +But he found himself valuing it supremely, and wonderingly wishing to be +worthy of it. + + + + +XVII. + +Ellen discovered her father with a book in a distant corner of the +dining-saloon, which he preferred to the deck or the library for his +reading, in such intervals as the stewards, laying and cleaning the +tables, left him unmolested in it. She advanced precipitately upon him, +and stood before him in an excitement which, though he lifted his dazed +eyes to it from his page, he was not entirely aware of till afterwards. +Then he realized that her cheeks were full of color, and her eyes of +light, and that she panted as if she had been running when she spoke. + +"Poppa," she said, "there is something that Mr. Breckon wants to speak to +you--to ask you about. He has asked me, but I want you to see him, for I +think he had better tell you himself." + +While he still stared at her she was as suddenly gone as she had come, +and he remained with his book, which the meaning had as suddenly left. +There was no meaning in her words, except as he put it into them, and +after he had got it in he struggled with it in a sort of perfunctory +incredulity. It was not impossible; it chiefly seemed so because it +seemed too good to be true; and the more he pondered it the more +possible, if not probable, it became. He could not be safe with it till +he had submitted it to his wife; and he went to her while he was sure of +repeating Ellen's words without varying from them a syllable. + +To his astonishment, Mrs. Kenton was instantly convinced. "Why, of +course," she said, "it can't possibly mean anything else. Why should it +be so very surprising? The time hasn't been very long, but they've been +together almost every moment; and he was taken with her from the very +beginning--I could see that. Put on your other coat," she said, as she +dusted the collar of the coat the judge was wearing. "He'll be looking +you up, at once. I can't say that it's unexpected," and she claimed a +prescience in the matter which all her words had hitherto denied. + +Kenton did not notice her inconsistency. "If it were not so exactly what +I wished," he said, "I don't know that I should be surprised at it +myself. Sarah, if I had been trying to imagine any one for Ellen, I +couldn't have dreamed of a person better suited to her than this young +man. He's everything that I could wish him to be. I've seen the +pleasure and comfort she took in his way from the first moment. He +seemed to make her forget-- Do you suppose she has forgotten that +miserable wretch Do you think--" + +"If she hadn't, could she be letting him come to speak to you? I don't +believe she ever really cared for Bittridge--or not after he began +flirting with Mrs. Uphill." She had no shrinking from the names which +Kenton avoided with disgust. "The only question for you is to consider +what you shall say to Mr. Breckon." + +"Say to him? Why, of course, if Ellen has made up her mind, there's only +one thing I can say." + +"Indeed there is! He ought to know all about that disgusting Bittridge +business, and you have got to tell him." + +"Sarah, I couldn't. It is too humiliating. How would it do to refer him +to-- You could manage that part so much better. I don't see how I could +keep it from seeming an indelicate betrayal of the poor child--" + +"Perhaps she's told him herself," Mrs. Kenton provisionally suggested. + +The judge eagerly caught at the notion. "Do you think so? It would be +like her! Ellen would wish him to know everything." + +He stopped, and his wife could see that he was trembling with excitement. +"We must find out. I will speak to Ellen--" + +"And--you don't think I'd better have the talk with him first?" + +"Certainly not!" + +"Why, Rufus! You were not going to look him up?" + +"No," he hesitated; but she could see that some such thing had been on +his mind. + +"Surely," she said, "you must be crazy!" But she had not the heart to +blight his joy with sarcasm, and perhaps no sarcasm would have blighted +it. + +"I merely wondered what I had better say in case he spoke to me before +you saw Ellen--that's all. Sarah! I couldn't have believed that +anything could please me so much. But it does seem as if it were the +assurance of Ellen's happiness; and she has deserved it, poor child! If +ever there was a dutiful and loving daughter--at least before that +wretched affair--she was one." + +"She has been a good girl," Mrs. Kenton stoically admitted. + +"And they are very well matched. Ellen is a cultivated woman. He never +could have cause to blush for her, either her mind or her manners, in any +circle of society; she would do him credit under any and all +circumstances. If it were Lottie--" + +"Lottie is all right," said her mother, in resentment of his preference; +but she could not help smiling at it. "Don't you be foolish about Ellen. +I approve of Mr. Breckon as much as you do. But it's her prettiness and +sweetness that's taken his fancy, and not her wisdom, if she's got him." + +"If she's got him?" + +"Well, you know what I mean. I'm not saying she hasn't. Dear knows, I +don't want to! I feel just as you do about it. I think it's the +greatest piece of good fortune, coming on top of all our trouble with +her. I couldn't have imagined such a thing." + +He was instantly appeased. "Are you going to speak with Ellen" he +radiantly inquired. + +"I will see. There's no especial hurry, is there?" + +"Only, if he should happen to meet me--" + +"You can keep out of his way, I reckon. Or You can put him off, +somehow." + +"Yes," Kenton returned, doubtfully. "Don't," he added, "be too blunt +with Ellen. You know she didn't say anything explicit to me." + +"I think I will know how to manage, Mr. Kenton." + +"Yes, of course, Sarah. I'm not saying that." + +Breckon did not apparently try to find the judge before lunch, and at +table he did not seem especially devoted to Ellen in her father's jealous +eyes. He joked Lottie, and exchanged those passages or repartee with her +in which she did not mind using a bludgeon when she had not a rapier at +hand; it is doubtful if she was very sensible of the difference. Ellen +sat by in passive content, smiling now and then, and Boyne carried on a +dignified conversation with Mr. Pogis, whom he had asked to lunch at his +table, and who listened with one ear to the vigorous retorts of Lottie in +her combat with Breckon. + +The judge witnessed it all with a grave displeasure, more and more +painfully apparent to his wife. She could see the impatience, the +gathering misgiving, in his face, and she perceived that she must not let +this come to conscious dissatisfaction with Breckon; she knew her husband +capable of indignation with trifling which would complicate the +situation, if it came to that. She decided to speak with Ellen as soon +as possible, and she meant to follow her to her state-room when they left +the table. But fate assorted the pieces in the game differently. Boyne +walked over to the place where Miss Rasmith was sitting with her mother; +Lottie and Mr. Pogis went off to practise duets together, terrible, four- +-handed torments under which the piano presently clamored; and Ellen +stood for a moment talked to by Mr. Breckon, who challenged her then for +a walk on deck, and with whom she went away smiling. + +Mrs. Kenton appealed with the reflection of the girl's happiness in her +face to the frowning censure in her husband's; but Kenton spoke first. +"What does he mean?" he demanded, darkly. "If he is making a fool of +her he'll find that that game can't be played twice, with impunity. +Sarah, I believe I should choke him." + +"Mr. Kenton!" she gasped, and she trembled in fear of him, even while +she kept herself with difficulty from shaking him for his folly. "Don't +say such a thing! Can't you see that they want to talk it over? If he +hasn't spoken to you it's because he wants to know how you took what she +said." Seeing the effect of these arguments, she pursued: "Will you +never have any sense? I will speak to Ellen the very minute I get her +alone, and you have just got to wait. Don't you suppose it's hard for +me, too? Have I got nothing to bear?" + +Kenton went silently back to his book, which he took with him to the +reading-room, where from time to time his wife came to him and reported +that Ellen and Breckon were still walking up and down together, or that +they were sitting down talking, or were forward, looking over at the +prow, or were watching the deck-passengers dancing. Her husband received +her successive advices with relaxing interest, and when she had brought +the last she was aware that the affair was entirely in her hands with all +the responsibility. After the gay parting between Ellen and Breckon, +which took place late in the afternoon, she suffered an interval to +elapse before she followed the girl down to her state-room. She found +her lying in her berth, with shining eyes and glad, red cheeks; she was +smiling to herself. + +"That is right, Ellen," her mother said. " You need rest after your long +tramp." + +"I'm not tired. We were sitting down a good deal. I didn't think how +late it was. I'm ever so much better. Where's Lottie?" + +"Off somewhere with that young Englishman," said Mrs. Kenton, as if that +were of no sort of consequence. "Ellen," she added, abruptly, trying +within a tremulous smile to hide her eagerness, "what is this that Mr. +Breckon wants to talk with your father about?" + +"Mr. Breckon? With poppa?" + +"Yes, certainly. You told him this morning that Mr. Breckon--" + +"Oh! Oh yes!" said Ellen, as if recollecting something that had slipped +her mind. "He wants poppa to advise him whether to go back to his +congregation in New York or not." + +Mrs. Kenton sat in the corner of the sofa next the door, looking into the +girl's face on the pillow as she lay with her arms under her head. Tears +of defeat and shame came into her eyes, and she could not see the girl's +light nonchalance in adding: + +"But he hasn't got up his courage yet. He thinks he'll ask him after +dinner. He says he doesn't want poppa to think he's posing. I don't +know what he means." + +Mrs. Kenton did not speak at once. Her bitterest mortification was not +for herself, but for the simple and tender father-soul which had been so +tried already. She did not know how he would bear it, the +disappointment, and the cruel hurt to his pride. But she wanted to fall +on her knees in thankfulness that he had betrayed himself only to her. + +She started in sudden alarm with the thought. "Where is he now-- +Mr. Breckon?" + +"He's gone with Boyne down into the baggage-room." + +Mrs. Kenton sank back in her corner, aware now that she would not have +had the strength to go to her husband even to save him from the awful +disgrace of giving himself away to Breckon. "And was that all?" she +faltered. + +"All?" + +"That he wanted to speak to your father about?" + +She must make irrefragably sure, for Kenton's sake, that she was not +misunderstanding. + +"Why, of course! What else? Why, momma! what are you crying about?" + +"I'm not crying, child. Just some foolishness of your father's. He +understood--he thought--" Mrs. Kenton began to laugh hysterically. "But +you know how ridiculous he is; and he supposed-- No, I won't tell you!" + +It was not necessary. The girl's mind, perhaps because it was imbued +already with the subject, had possessed itself of what filled her +mother's. She dropped from the elbow on which she had lifted herself, +and turned her face into the pillow, with a long wail of shame. + + + + +XVIII. + +Mrs. Kenton's difficulties in setting her husband right were indefinitely +heightened by the suspicion that the most unsuspicious of men fell into +concerning Breckon. Did Breckon suppose that the matter could be turned +off in that way? he stupidly demanded; and when he was extricated from +this error by his wife's representation that Breckon had not changed at +all, but had never told Ellen that he wished to speak with him of +anything but his returning to his society, Kenton still could not accept +the fact. He would have contended that at least the other matter must +have been in Breckon's mind; and when he was beaten from this position, +and convinced that the meaning they had taken from Ellen's words had +never been in any mind but their own, he fell into humiliation so abject +that he could hide it only by the hauteur with which he carried himself +towards Breckon when they met at dinner. He would scarcely speak to the +young man; Ellen did not come to the table; Lottie and Boyne and their +friend Mr. Pogis were dining with the Rasmiths, and Mrs. Kenton had to +be, as she felt, cringingly kind to Breckon in explaining just the sort +of temporary headache that kept her eldest daughter away. He was more +than ordinarily sympathetic and polite, but he was manifestly bewildered +by Kenton's behavior. He refused an hilarious invitation from Mrs. +Rasmith, when he rose from table, to stop and have his coffee with her on +his way out of the saloon. His old adorer explained that she had ordered +a small bottle of champagne in honor of its being the night before they +were to get into Boulogne, and that he ought to sit down and help her +keep the young people straight. Julia, she brokenly syllabled, with the +gay beverage bubbling back into her throat, was not the least use; she +was worse than any. Julia did not look it, in the demure regard which +she bent upon her amusing mother, and Breckon persisted in refusing. He +said he thought he might safely leave them to Boyne, and Mrs. Rasmith +said into her handkerchief, "Oh yes! Boyne!" and pressed Boyne's sleeve +with her knobbed and jewelled fingers. + +It was evident where most of the small bottle had gone, but Breckon was +none the cheerfuller for the spectacle of Mrs. Rasmith. He could not +have a moment's doubt as to the sort of work he had been doing in New +York if she were an effect of it, and he turned his mind from the sad +certainty back to the more important inquiry as to what offence his wish +to advise with Judge Kenton could have conveyed. Ellen had told him in +the afternoon that she had spoken with her father about it, and she had +not intimated any displeasure or reluctance on him; but apparently he had +decided not to suffer himself to be approached. + +It might be as well. Breckon had not been able to convince himself that +his proposal to consult Judge Kenton was not a pose. He had flashes of +owning that it was contemplated merely as a means of ingratiating himself +with Ellen. Now, as he found his way up and down among the empty +steamer-chairs, he was aware, at the bottom of his heart, of not caring +in the least for Judge Kenton's repellent bearing, except as it possibly, +or impossibly, reflected some mood of hers. He could not make out her +not coming to dinner; the headache was clearly an excuse; for some reason +she did not wish to see him, he argued, with the egotism of his +condition. + +The logic of his conclusion was strengthened at breakfast by her +continued absence; and this time Mrs. Kenton made no apologies for her. +The judge was a shade less severe; or else Breckon did not put himself so +much in the way to be withheld as he had the night before. Boyne and +Lottie carried on a sort of muted scrap, unrebuked by their mother, who +seemed too much distracted in some tacit trouble to mind them. From time +to time Breckon found her eyes dwelling upon him wonderingly, +entreatingly; she dropped them, if she caught his, and colored. + +In the afternoon it was early evident that they were approaching +Boulogne. The hatch was opened and the sailors began getting up the +baggage of the passengers who were going to disembark. It seemed a long +time for everybody till the steamer got in; those going ashore sat on +their hand-baggage for an hour before the tug came up to take, them off. +Mr. Pogis was among them; he had begun in the forenoon to mark the +approaching separation between Lottie and himself by intervals of +unmistakable withdrawal. Another girl might have cared, but Lottie did +not care, for her failure to get a rise out of him by her mockingly +varied "Oh, I say!" and "Well, rather!" In the growth of his dignified +reserve Mr. Pogis was indifferent to jeers. By whatever tradition of +what would or would not do he was controlled in relinquishing her +acquaintance, or whether it was in obedience to some imperative ideal, or +some fearful domestic influence subtly making itself felt from the coasts +of his native island, or some fine despair of equalling the imagined +grandeur of Lottie's social state in Tuskingum by anything he could show +her in England, it was certain that he was ending with Lottie then and +there. At the same time he was carefully defining himself from the +Rasmiths, with whom he must land. He had his state-room things put at an +appreciable distance, where he did not escape a final stab from Lottie. + +"Oh, do give me a rose out of that," she entreated, in travestied +imploring, as he stood looking at a withered bouquet which the steward +had brought up with his rugs. + +"I'm takin' it home," he explained, coldly. + +"And I want to take a rose back to New York. I want to give it to a +friend of mine there." + +Mr. Pogis hesitated. Then he asked, "A man?" "Well, rather!" said +Lottie. + +He answered nothing, but looked definitively down at the flowers in his +hand. + +"Oh, I say!" Lottie exulted. + +Boyne remained fixed in fealty to the Rasmiths, with whom Breckon was +also talking as Mrs. Kenton came up with the judge. She explained how +sorry her daughter Ellen was at not being able to say goodbye; she was +still not at all well; and the ladies received her excuses with polite +patience. Mrs. Rasmith said she did not know what they should do without +Boyne, and Miss Rasmith put her arm across his shoulders and pulled him +up to her, and implored, "Oh, give him to me, Mrs. Kenton!" + +Boyne stole an ashamed look at his mother, and his father said, with an +unbending to Breckon which must have been the effect of severe +expostulation from Mrs. Kenton, "I suppose you and the ladies will go to +Paris together." + +"Why, no," Breckon said, and he added, with mounting confusion, "I--I had +arranged to keep on to Rotterdam. I was going to mention it." + +"Keep on to Rotterdam!" Mrs. Rasmith's eyes expressed the greatest +astonishment. + +"Why, of course, mother!" said her daughter. "Don't you know? Boyne +told us." + +Boyne, after their parting, seized the first chance of assuring his +mother that he had not told Miss Rasmith that, for he had not known it, +and he went so far in her condemnation to wonder how she could say such +a thing. His mother said it was not very nice, and then suggested that +perhaps she had heard it from some one else, and thought it was he. She +acquitted him of complicity with Miss Rasmith in forbearing to contradict +her; and it seemed to her a fitting time to find out from Boyne what she +honestly could about the relation of the Rasmiths to Mr. Breckon. It was +very little beyond their supposition, which every one else had shared, +that he was going to land with them at Boulogne, and he must have changed +his mind very suddenly. Boyne had not heard the Rasmiths speak of it. +Miss Rasmith never spoke of Mr. Breckon at all; but she seemed to want to +talk of Ellen; she was always asking about her, and what was the matter +with her, and how long she had been sick. + +"Boyne," said his mother, with a pang, "you didn't tell her anything +about Ellen?" + +"Momma!" said the boy, in such evident abhorrence of the idea that she +rested tranquil concerning it. She paid little attention to what Boyne +told her otherwise of the Rasmiths. Her own horizon were so limited that +she could not have brought home to herself within them that wandering +life the Rasmiths led from climate to climate and sensation to sensation, +with no stay so long as the annually made in New York, where they +sometimes passed months enough to establish themselves in giving and +taking tea in a circle of kindred nomads. She conjectured as ignorantly +as Boyne himself that they were very rich, and it would not have +enlightened her to know that the mother was the widow of a California +politician, whom she had married in the sort of middle period following +upon her less mortuary survival of Miss Rasmith's father, whose name was +not Rasmith. + +What Mrs. Kenton divined was that they had wanted to get Breckon, and +that so far as concerned her own interest in him they had wanted to get +him away from Ellen. In her innermost self-confidences she did not +permit herself the notion that Ellen had any right to him; but still it +was a relief to have them off the ship, and to have him left. Of all the +witnesses of the fact, she alone did not find it awkward. Breckon +himself found it very awkward. He did not wish to be with the Rasmiths, +but he found it uncomfortable not being with them, under the +circumstances, and he followed them ashore in tingling reveries of +explanation and apology. He had certainly meant to get off at Boulogne, +and when he had suddenly and tardily made up his mind to keep on to +Rotterdam, he had meant to tell them as soon as he had the labels on his +baggage changed. He had not meant to tell them why he had changed his +mind, and he did not tell them now in these tingling reveries. He did +not own the reason in his secret thoughts, for it no longer seemed a +reason; it no longer seemed a cause. He knew what the Rasmiths would +think; but he could easily make that right with his conscience, at least, +by parting with the Kentons at Rotterdam, and leaving them to find their +unconducted way to any point they chose beyond. He separated himself +uncomfortably from them when the tender had put off with her passengers +and the ship had got under way again, and went to the smoking-room, while +the judge returned to his book and Mrs. Kenton abandoned Lottie to her +own devices, and took Boyne aside for her apparently fruitless inquiries. + +They were not really so fruitless but that at the end of them she could +go with due authority to look up her husband. She gently took his book +from him and shut it up. "Now, Mr. Kenton," she began, "if you don't go +right straight and find Mr. Breckon and talk with him, I--I don't know +what I will do. You must talk to him--" + +"About Ellen?" the judge frowned. + +"No, certainly not. Talk with him about anything that interests you. Be +pleasant to him. Can't you see that he's going on to Rotterdam on our +account?" + +"Then I wish he wasn't. There's no use in it." + +"No matter! It's polite in him, and I want you to show him that you +appreciate it." + +"Now see here, Sarah," said the judge, "if you want him shown that we +appreciate his politeness why don't you do it yourself?" + +"I? Because it would look as if you were afraid to. It would look as if +we meant something by it." + +"Well, I am afraid; and that's just what I'm afraid of. I declare, my +heart comes into my mouth whenever I think what an escape we had. I +think of it whenever I look at him, and I couldn't talk to him without +having that in my mind all the time. No, women can manage those things +better. If you believe he is going along on our account, so as to help +us see Holland, and to keep us from getting into scrapes, you're the one +to make it up to him. I don't care what you say to show him our +gratitude. I reckon we will get into all sorts of trouble if we're left +to ourselves. But if you think he's stayed because he wants to be with +Ellen, and--" + +"Oh, I don't KNOW what I think! And that's silly I can't talk to him. +I'm afraid it'll seem as if we wanted to flatter him, and goodness knows +we don't want to. Or, yes, we do! I'd give anything if it was true. +Rufus, do you suppose he did stay on her account? My, oh, my! If I +could only think so! Wouldn't it be the best thing in the world for the +poor child, and for all of us? I never saw anybody that I liked so much. +But it's too good to be true." + +"He's a nice fellow, but I don't think he's any too good for Ellen." + +"I'm not saying he is. The great thing is that he's good enough, and +gracious knows what will happen if she meets some other worthless fellow, +and gets befooled with him! Or if she doesn't take a fancy to some one, +and goes back to Tuskingum without seeing any one else she likes, there +is that awful wretch, and when she hears what Dick did to him--she's just +wrong-headed enough to take up with him again to make amends to him. Oh, +dear oh, dear! I know Lottie will let it out to her yet!" + +The judge began threateningly, "You tell Lottie from me--" + +"What?" said the girl herself, who had seen her father and mother +talking together in a remote corner of the music-room and had stolen +light-footedly upon them just at this moment. + +"Lottie, child," said her mother, undismayed at Lottie's arrival in her +larger anxiety, "I wish you would try and be agreeable to Mr. Breckon. +Now that he's going on with us to Holland, I don't want him to think +we're avoiding him." + +"Why?" + +"Oh, because." + +"Because you want to get him for Ellen?" + +"Don't be impudent," said her father. "You do as your mother bids you." + +"Be agreeable to that old Breckon? I think I see myself! I'd sooner +read! I'm going to get a book now." She left them as abruptly as she +had come upon them, and ran across to the bookcase, where she remained +two stepping and peering through the glass doors at the literature +within, in unaccustomed question concerning it. + +"She's a case," said the judge, looking at her not only with relenting, +but with the pride in her sufficiency for all the exigencies of life +which he could not feel in Ellen. "She can take care of herself." + +"Oh yes," Mrs. Kenton sadly assented, I don't think anybody will ever +make a fool of Lottie." + +"It's a great deal more likely to be the other way," her father +suggested. + +"I think Lottie is conscientious," Mrs. Kenton protested. "She wouldn't +really fool with a man." + +"No, she's a good girl," the judge owned. + +"It's girls like Ellen who make the trouble and the care. They are too +good, and you have to think some evil in this world. Well!" She rose +and gave her husband back his book. + +"Do you know where Boyne is?" + +"No. Do you want him to be pleasant to Mr. Breckon?" + +"Somebody has got to. But it would be ridiculous if nobody but Boyne +was." + +She did not find Boyne, after no very exhaustive search, and the boy was +left to form his bearing towards Breckon on the behavior of the rest of +his family. As this continued helplessly constrained both in his father +and mother, and voluntarily repellent in Lottie, Boyne decided upon a +blend of conduct which left Breckon in greater and greater doubt of his +wisdom in keeping on to Rotterdam. There was no good reason which he +would have been willing to give himself, from the beginning. It had been +an impulse, suddenly coming upon him in the baggage-room where he had +gone to get something out of his trunk, and where he had decided to have +the label of his baggage changed from the original destination at +Boulogne to the final port of the steamer's arrival. When this was once +done he was sorry, but he was ashamed to have the label changed back. +The most assignable motive for his act was his reluctance to go on to +Paris with the Rasmiths, or rather with Mrs. Rasmith; for with her +daughter, who was not a bad fellow, one could always manage. He was +quite aware of being safely in his own hands against any design of Mrs. +Rasmith's, but her machinations humiliated him for her; he hated to see +her going through her manoeuvres, and he could not help grieving for her +failures, with a sort of impersonal sympathy, all the more because he +disliked her as little as he respected her. + +The motive which he did not assign to himself was that which probably +prevailed with him, though in the last analysis it was as selfish, no +doubt, as the one he acknowledged. Ellen Kenton still piqued his +curiosity, still touched his compassion. He had so far from exhausted +his wish or his power to befriend her, to help her, that he had still a +wholly unsatisfied longing to console her, especially when she drooped +into that listless attitude she was apt to take, with her face fallen and +her hands let lie, the back of one in the palm of the other, in her lap. +It was possibly the vision of this following him to the baggage-room, +when he went to open his trunk, that as much as anything decided him to +have the label changed on his baggage, but he did not own it then, and +still less did he own it now, when he found himself quite on his own +hands for his pains. + +He felt that for some reason the Kentons were all avoiding him. Ellen, +indeed, did not take part, against him, unless negatively, for she had +appeared neither at lunch nor at dinner as the vessel kept on its way +after leaving Boulogne; and when he ventured to ask for her Mrs. Kenton +answered with embarrassment that she was not feeling very well. He asked +for her at lunch, but not at dinner, and when he had finished that meal +he went on the promenade-deck, and walked forlornly up and down, feeling +that he had been a fool. + +Mrs. Kenton went below to her daughter's room, and found Ellen there on +the sofa, with her book shut on her thumb at the place where the twilight +had failed her. + +"Ellen, dear," her mother said, "aren't you feeling well?" + +"Yes, I'm well enough," said the girl, sensible of a leading in the +question. "Why?" + +"Oh, nothing. Only--only I can't make your father behave naturally with +Mr. Breckon. He's got his mind so full of that mistake we both came so +near making that he can't think of anything else. He's so sheepish about +it that he can hardly speak to him or even look at him; and I must +confess that I don't do much better. You know I don't like to put myself +forward where your father is, and if I did, really I don't believe I +could make up my mouth to say anything. I did want Lottie to be nice to +him, but Lottie dislikes him so! And even Boyne--well, it wouldn't +matter about Boyne, if he didn't seem to be carrying out a sort of family +plan--Boyne barely answers him when he speaks to him. I don't know what +he can think." Ellen was a good listener, and Mrs. Kenton, having +begun, did not stop till she had emptied the bag. "I just know that he +didn't get off at Boulogne because he wanted to stay on with us, and +thought he could be useful to us at The Hague, and everywhere; and here +we're acting as ungratefully! Why, we're not even commonly polite to +him, and I know he feels it. I know that he's hurt." + +Ellen rose and stood before the glass, into which he asked of her +mother's reflected face, while she knotted a fallen coil of hair into its +place, "Where is he?" + +"I don't know. He went on deck somewhere." + +Ellen put on her hat and pinned it, and put on her jacket and buttoned +it. Then she started towards the door. Her mother made way for her, +faltering, "What are you going to do, Ellen?" + +"I am going to do right." + +"Don't-catch cold!" her mother called after her figure vanishing down +the corridor, but the warning couched in these terms had really no +reference to the weather. + +The girl's impulse was one of those effects of the weak will in her which +were apt to leave her short of the fulfilment of a purpose. It carried +her as her as the promenade, which she found empty, and she went and +leaned upon the rail, and looked out over the sorrowful North Sea, which +was washing darkly away towards where the gloomy sunset had been. + +Steps from the other side of the ship approached, hesitated towards her, +and then arrested themselves. She looked round. + +"Why, Miss Kenton!" said Breckon, stupidly. + +"The sunset is over, isn't it?" she answered. + +"The twilight isn't." Breckon stopped; then he asked, "Wouldn't you like +to take a little walk?" + +"Yes," she answered, and smiled fully upon him. He had never known +before how radiant a smile she lead. + +"Better have my arm. It's getting rather dark." + +"Well." She put her hand on his arm and he felt it tremble there, while +she palpitated, "We are all so glad you could go on to Rotterdam. My +mother wanted me to tell you." + +"Oh, don't speak of that," said Breckon, not very appositely. Presently +he forced a laugh, in order to add, with lightness, "I was afraid perhaps +I had given you all some reason to regret it!" + +She said, "I was afraid you would think that--or momma was--and I +couldn't bear to have you." + +"Well, then, I won't." + + + + + +XIX. + +Breckon had answered with gayety, but his happiness was something beyond +gayety. He had really felt the exclusion from the Kentons in which he +had passed the day, and he had felt it the more painfully because he +liked them all. It may be owned that he liked Ellen best from the +beginning, and now he liked her better than ever, but even in the day's +exile he had not ceased to like each of them. They were, in their family +affection, as lovable as that sort of selfishness can make people. They +were very united and good to one another. Lottie herself, except in her +most lurid moments, was good to her brother and sister, and almost +invariably kind to her parents. She would not, Breckon saw, have brooked +much meddling with her flirtations from them, but as they did not offer +to meddle, she had no occasion to grumble on that score. She grumbled +when they asked her to do things for Ellen, but she did them, and though +she never did them without grumbling, she sometimes did them without +being asked. She was really very watchful of Ellen when it would least +have been expected, and sometimes she was sweet. She never was sweet +with Boyne, but she was often his friend, though this did not keep her +from turning upon him at the first chance to give him a little dig, or a +large one, for that matter. As for Boyne, he was a mass of helpless +sweetness, though he did not know it, and sometimes took himself for an +iceberg when he was merely an ice-cream of heroic mould. He was as +helplessly sweet with Lottie as with any one, and if he suffered keenly +from her treacheries, and seized every occasion to repay them in kind, +it was clearly a matter of conscience with him, and always for the good. +Their father and mother treated their squabbles very wisely, Breckon +thought. They ignored them as much as possible, and they recognized them +without attempting to do that justice between them which would have +rankled in both their breasts. + +To a spectator who had been critical at first, Mr. and Mrs. Kenton seemed +an exemplary father and mother with Ellen as well as with their other +children. It is easy to be exemplary with a sick girl, but they +increasingly affected Breckon as exemplary with Ellen. He fancied that +they acted upon each other beneficially towards her. At first he had +foreboded some tiresome boasting from the father's tenderness, and some +weak indulgence of the daughter's whims from her mother; but there was +either never any ground for this, or else Mrs. Kenton, in keeping her +husband from boasting, had been obliged in mere consistency to set a +guard upon her own fondness. + +It was not that. Ellen, he was more and more decided, would have abused +the weakness of either; if there was anything more angelic than her +patience, it was her wish to be a comfort to them, and, between the +caprices of her invalidism, to be a service. It was pathetic to see her +remembering to do things for them which Boyne and Lottie had forgotten, +or plainly shirked doing, and to keep the fact out of sight. She really +kept it out of sight with them, and if she did not hide it from so close +an observer as Breckon, that was more his fault than hers. When her +father first launched out in her praise, or the praise of her reading, +the young man had dreaded a rustic prig; yet she had never been a prig, +but simply glad of what book she had known, and meekly submissive to his +knowledge if not his taste. He owned that she had a right to her taste, +which he found almost always good, and accounted for as instinctive in +the absence of an imaginable culture in her imaginable ambient. So far +as he had glimpses of this, he found it so different from anything he had +known that the modest adequacy of Mrs. Kenton in the political +experiences of modern Europe, as well as the clear judgments of Kenton +himself in matters sometimes beyond Breekon himself, mystified him no +less than Ellen's taste. + +Even with the growth of his respect for their intelligence and his love +of their kindliness, he had not been able to keep a certain patronage +from mingling, and it was not till they evinced not only entire ability, +but an apparent wish to get on without his approval, without his +acquaintance even, that he had conceived a just sense of them. The like +is apt to happen with the best of us, when we are also the finest, and +Breckon was not singular in coming to a due consciousness of something +valuable only in the hour of its loss. He did not know that the loss was +only apparent. He knew that he had made a distinct sacrifice for these +people, and that, when he had prepared himself to befriend them little +short of self-devotion, they showed themselves indifferent, and almost +repellent. In the revulsion of feeling, when Ellen gave him her mother's +message, and frankly offered him reparation on behalf of her whole +family, he may have overdone his gratitude, but he did not overdo it to +her perception. They walked up and down the promenade of the Amstel, in +the watery North Sea moon, while bells after bells noted the hour +unheeded, and when they parted for the night it was with an involuntary +pressure of hands, from which she suddenly pulled hers, and ran down the +corridor of her state-room and Lottie's. + +He stood watching the narrow space in which she had vanished, and +thinking how gentle she was, and how she had contrived somehow to make +him feel that now it was she who had been consoling him, and trying to +interest him and amuse him. He had not realized that before; he had been +used to interesting and amusing her, but he could not resent it; he could +not resent the implication of superiority, if such a thing were possible, +which her kindness conveyed. The question with Breckon was whether she +had walked with him so long because she wished, in the hour, to make up +as fully as possible for the day's neglect, or because she had liked to +walk up and down with him. It was a question he found keeping itself +poignantly, yet pleasantly, in his mind, after he had got into his berth +under the solidly slumberous Boyne, and inclining now to one solution and +now to the other, with a delicate oscillation that was charming. + +The Amstel took her time to get into Rotterdam, and when her passengers +had gone ashore the next forenoon the train that carried Breckon to The +Hague in the same compartment with the Kentons was in no greater hurry. +It arrived with a deliberation which kept it from carrying them on to +Amsterdam before they knew it, and Mrs. Kenton had time to place such +parts of the wars in the Rise of the Dutch Republic as she could attach +to the names of the stations and the general features of the landscape. +Boyne was occupied with improvements for the windmills and the canal- +boats, which did not seem to him of the quality of the Michigan +aerometers, or the craft with which he was familiar on the Hudson River +and on the canal that passed through Tuskingum. Lottie, with respect to +the canals, offered the frank observation that they smelt, and in +recognizing a fact which travel almost universally ignores in Holland, +she watched her chance of popping up the window between herself and +Boyne, which Boyne put down with mounting rage. The agriculture which +triumphed everywhere on the little half--acre plots lifted fifteen inches +above the waters of the environing ditches, and the black and white +cattle everywhere attesting the immemorial Dutch ideal of a cow, were +what at first occupied Kenton, and he was tardily won from them to the +question of fighting over a country like that. It was a concession to +his wife's impassioned interest in the overthrow of the Spaniards in a +landscape which had evidently not changed since. She said it was hard to +realize that Holland was not still a republic, and she was not very +patient with Breckon's defence of the monarchy on the ground that the +young Queen was a very pretty girl. + +"And she is only sixteen," Boyne urged. + +"Then she is two years too old for you," said Lottie. + +"No such thing!" Boyne retorted. "I was fifteen in June." + +"Dear me! I should never have thought it," said his sister. + +Ellen seemed hardly to look out of the window at anything directly, but +when her father bade her see this thing and that, it seemed that she had +seen it already. She said at last, with a quiet sigh, "I never want to +go away." + +She had been a little shy of Breckon the whole morning, and had kept him +asking himself whether she was sorry she had walked so long with him the +night before, or, having offered him due reparation for her family, she +was again dropping him. Now and then he put her to the test by words +explicitly directed at her, and she replied with the dreamy passivity +which seemed her normal mood, and in which he could fancy himself half +forgotten, or remembered with an effort. + +In the midst of this doubt she surprised him--he reflected that she was +always surprising him--by asking him how far it was from The Hague to the +sea. He explained that The Hague was in the sea like all the rest of +Holland, but that if she meant the shore, it was no distance at all. +Then she said, vaguely, she wished they were going to the shore. Her +father asked Breckon if there was not a hotel at the beach, and the young +man tried to give him a notion of the splendors of the Kurhaus at +Scheveningen; of Scheveningen itself he despaired of giving any just +notion. + +"Then we can go there," said the judge, ignoring Ellen, in his decision, +as if she had nothing to do with it. + +Lottie interposed a vivid preference for The Hague. She had, she said, +had enough of the sea for one while, and did not want to look at it again +till they sailed for home. Boyne turned to his father as if a good deal +shaken by this reasoning, and it was Mrs. Kenton who carried the day for +going first to a hotel in The Hague and prospecting from there in the +direction of Scheveningen; Boyne and his father could go down to the +shore and see which they liked best. + +"I don't see what that has to do with me," said Lottie. No one was +alarmed by her announcement that if she did not like Scheveningen she +should stay at The Hague, whatever the rest did; in the event fortune +favored her going with her family. + +The hotel in The Hague was very pleasant, with a garden behind it, where +a companionable cat had found a dry spot, and where Lottie found the cat +and made friends with it. But she said the hotel was full of Cook's +tourists, whom she recognized, in spite of her lifelong ignorance of +them, by a prescience derived from the conversation of Mr. Pogis, and +from the instinct of a society woman, already rife in her. She found +that she could not stay in a hotel with Cook's tourists, and she took her +father's place in the exploring party which went down to the watering- +place in the afternoon, on the top of a tram-car, under the leafy roof of +the adorable avenue of trees which embowers the track to Scheveningen. +She disputed Boyne's impressions of the Dutch people, whom he found +looking more like Americans than any foreigners he had seen, and she +snubbed Breckon from his supposed charge of the party. But after the +start, when she declared that Ellen could not go, and that it was +ridiculous for her to think of it, she was very good to her, and looked +after her safety and comfort with a despotic devotion. + +At the Kurhaus she promptly took the lead in choosing rooms, for she had +no doubt of staying there after the first glance at the place, and she +showed a practical sense in settling her family which at least her mother +appreciated when they were installed the next day. + +Mrs. Kenton could not make her husband admire Lottie's faculty so +readily. "You think it would have been better for her to sit down with +Ellen, on the sand and dream of the sea," she reproached him, with a +tender resentment on behalf of Lottie. "Everybody can't dream." + +"Yes, but I wish she didn't keep awake with such a din," said the judge. +After all, he admired Lottie's judgment about the rooms, and he censured +her with a sigh of relief from care as he sank back in the easy-chair +fronting the window that looked out on the North Sea; Lottie had already +made him appreciate the view till he was almost sick of it. + +"What is the matter?" said Mrs. Kenton, sharply. "Do you want to be in +Tuskingum? I suppose you would rather be looking into Richard's back- +yard." + +"No," said the judge, mildly, "this is very nice." + +"It will do Ellen good, every minute. I don't care how much she sits on +the sands and dream. I'll love to see her." + +The sitting on the sand was a survival of Mr. Kenton's preoccupations of +the sea-side. As a mater of fact, Ellen was at that moment sitting in +one of the hooked wicker arm-chairs which were scattered over the whole +vast beach like a growth of monstrous mushrooms, and, confronting her in +cosey proximity, Breckon sat equally hidden in another windstuhl. Her +father and her mother were able to keep them placed, among the multitude +of windsiuhls, by the presence of Lottie, who hovered near them, and, +with Boyne, fended off the demure, wicked-looking little Scheveningen +girls. On a smaller scale these were exactly like their demure, wicked- +looking Scheveningen mothers, and they approached with knitting in their +hands, and with large stones folded in their aprons, which they had +pilfered from the mole, and were trying to sell for footstools. The +windstuhl men and they were enemies, and when Breckon bribed them to go +away, the windstuhl men chased them, and the little girls ran, making +mouths at Boyne over their shoulders. He scorned to notice them; but he +was obliged to report the misconduct of Lottie, who began making eyes at +the Dutch officers as soon as she could feel that Ellen was safely off +her hands. She was the more exasperating and the more culpable to Boyne, +because she had asked him to walk up the beach with her, and had then +made the fraternal promenade a basis of operations against the Dutch +military. She joined her parents in ignoring Boyne's complaints, and +continued to take credit for all the pleasant facts of the situation; she +patronized her family as much for the table d'hote at luncheon as for the +comfort of their rooms. She was able to assure them that there was not a +Cook's tourist in the hotel, where there seemed to be nearly every other +kind of fellow-creature. At the end of the first week she had +acquaintance of as many nationalities as she could reach in their native +or acquired English, in all the stages of haughty toleration, vivid +intimacy, and cold exhaustion. She had a faculty for getting through +with people, or of ceasing to have any use for them, which was perhaps +her best safeguard in her adventurous flirting; while the simple aliens +were still in the full tide of fancied success, Lottie was sick of them +all, and deep in an indiscriminate correspondence with her young men in +Tuskingum. + +The letters which she had invited from these while still in New York +arrived with the first of those readdressed from the judge's London +banker. She had more letters than all the rest of the family together, +and counted a half-dozen against a poor two for her sister. Mrs. Kenton +cared nothing about Lottie's letters, but she was silently uneasy about +the two that Ellen carelessly took. She wondered who could be writing to +Ellen, especially in a cover bearing a handwriting altogether strange to +her. + +"It isn't from Bittridge, at any rate," she said to her husband, in the +speculation which she made him share. "I am always dreading to have her +find out what Richard did. It would spoil everything, I'm afraid, and +now everything is going so well. I do wish Richard hadn't, though, of +course, he did it for the best. Who do you think has been writing to +her?" + +"Why don't you ask her?" + +"I suppose she will tell me after a while. I don't like to seem to be +following her up. One was from Bessie Pearl, I think." + +Ellen did not speak of her letters to her mother, and after waiting a day +or two, Mrs. Kenton could not refrain from asking her. + +"Oh, I forgot," said Ellen. "I haven't read them yet." + +"Haven't read them!" said Mrs. Kenton. Then, after reflection, she +added, "You are a strange girl, Ellen," and did not venture to say more. + +"I suppose I thought I should have to answer them, and that made me +careless. But I will read them." Her mother was silent, and presently +Ellen added: "I hate to think of the past. Don't you, momma?" + +"It is certainly very pleasant here," said Mrs. Kenton, cautiously. +"You're enjoying yourself--I mean, you seem to be getting so much +stronger." + +"Why, momma, why do you talk as if I had been sick?" Ellen asked. + +"I mean you're so much interested." + +"Don't I go about everywhere, like anybody?" Ellen pursued, ignoring her +explanation. + +"Yes, you certainly do. Mr. Breckon seems to like going about." + +Ellen did not respond to the suggestion except to say: "We go into all +sorts of places. This morning we went up on that schooner that's drawn +up on the beach, and the old man who was there was very pleasant. +I thought it was a wreck, but Mr. Breckon says they are always drawing +their ships that way up on the sand. The old man was patching some of +the wood-work, and he told Mr. Breckon--he can speak a little Dutch--that +they were going to drag her down to the water and go fishing as soon as +he was done. He seemed to think we were brother and sister." She +flushed a little, and then she said: "I believe I like the dunes as well +as anything. Sometimes when those curious cold breaths come in from the +sea we climb up in the little hollows on the other side and sit there out +of the draft. Everybody seems to do it." + +Apparently Ellen was submitting the propriety of the fact to her mother, +who said: "Yes, it seems to be quite the same as it is at home. I always +supposed that it was different with young people here. There is +certainly no harm in it." + +Ellen went on, irrelevantly. "I like to go and look at the Scheveningen +women mending the nets on the sand back of the dunes. They have such +good gossiping times. They shouted to us last evening, and then laughed +when they saw us watching them. When they got through their work they +got up and stamped off so strong, with their bare, red arms folded into +their aprons, and their skirts sticking out so stiff. Yes, I should like +to be like them." + +"You, Ellen!" + +"Yes; why not?" + +Mrs. Kenton found nothing better to answer than, + +"They were very material looking." + +"They are very happy looking. They live in the present. That is what I +should like: living in the present, and not looking backwards or +forwards. After all, the present is the only life we've got, isn't it?" + +"I suppose you may say it is," Mrs. Kenton admitted, not knowing just +where the talk was leading, but dreading to interrupt it. + +"But that isn't the Scheveningen woman's only ideal. Their other ideal +is to keep the place clean. Saturday afternoon they were all out +scrubbing the brick sidewalks, and clear into the middle of the street. +We were almost ashamed to walk over the nice bricks, and we picked out as +many dirty places as we could find." + +Ellen laughed, with a light-hearted gayety that was very strange to her, +and Mrs. Kenton, as she afterwards told her husband, did not know what to +think. + +"I couldn't help wondering," she said, "whether the poor child would have +liked to keep on living in the present a month ago." + +"Well, I'm glad you didn't say so," the judge answered. + + + + +XX. + +From the easy conquest of the men who looked at her Lottie proceeded to +the subjection of the women. It would have been more difficult to put +these down, if the process had not been so largely, so almost entirely +subjective. As it was, Lottie exchanged snubs with many ladies of the +continental nationalities who were never aware of having offered or +received offence. In some cases, when they fearlessly ventured to speak +with her, they behaved very amiable, and seemed to find her conduct +sufficiently gracious in return. In fact, she was approachable enough, +and had no shame, before Boyne, in dismounting from the high horse which +she rode when alone with him, and meeting these ladies on foot, at least +half-way. She made several of them acquainted with her mother, who, +after a timorous reticence, found them very conversable, with a range of +topics, however, that shocked her American sense of decorum. One Dutch +lady talked with such manly freedom, and with such untrammelled intimacy, +that she was obliged to send Boyne and Lottie about their business, upon +an excuse that was not apparent to the Dutch lady. She only complimented +Mrs. Kenton upon her children and their devotion to each other, and when +she learned that Ellen was also her daughter, ventured the surmise she +was not long married. + +"It isn't her husband," Mrs. Kenton explained, with inward trouble. +"It's just a gentleman that came over with us," and she went with her +trouble to her own husband as soon as she could. + +"I'm afraid it isn't the custom to go around alone with young men as much +as Ellen thinks," she suggested. + +"He ought to know," said the judge. "I don't suppose he would if it +wasn't." + +"That is true," Mrs. Kenton owned, and for the time she put her +misgivings away. + +"So long as we do nothing wrong," the judge decided, "I don't see why we +should not keep to our own customs." + +"Lottie says they're not ours, in New York." + +"Well, we are not in New York now." + +They had neither of them the heart to interfere with Ellen's happiness, +for, after all, Breckon was careful enough of the appearances, and it was +only his being constantly with Ellen that suggested the Dutch lady's +surmise. In fact, the range of their wanderings was not beyond the +dunes, though once they went a little way on one of the neatly bricked +country roads that led towards The Hague. As yet there had been no +movement in any of the party to see the places that lie within such easy +tram-reach of The Hague, and the hoarded interest of the past in their +keeping. Ellen chose to dwell in the actualities which were an +enlargement of her own present, and Lottie's active spirit found +employment enough in the amusements at the Kurhaus. She shopped in the +little bazars which make a Saratoga under the colonnades fronting two +sides of the great space before the hotel, and she formed a critical and +exacting taste in music from a constant attendance at the afternoon +concerts; it is true that during the winter in New York she had cast +forever behind her the unsophisticated ideals of Tuskingum in the art, so +that from the first she was able to hold the famous orchestra that played +in the Kurhaus concert-room up to the highest standard. She had no use +for anybody who had any use for rag-time, and she was terribly severe +with a young American, primarily of Boyne's acquaintance, who tried to +make favor with her by asking about the latest coon-songs. She took the +highest ethical ground with him about tickets in a charitable lottery +which he had bought from the portier, but could not move him on the lower +level which he occupied. He offered to give her the picture which was +the chief prize, in case he won it, and she assured him beforehand that +she should not take it. She warned Boyne against hin:, under threats of +exposure to their mother, as not a good influence, but one afternoon, +when the young Queen of Holland came to the concert with the queen- +mother, Lottie cast her prejudices to the winds in accepting the places +which the wicked fellow-countryman offered Boyne and herself, when they +had failed to get any where they could see the queens, as the Dutch +called them. + +The hotel was draped with flags, and banked with flowers about the main +entrance where the queens were to arrive, and the guests massed +themselves in a dense lane for them to pass through. Lottie could not +fail to be one of the foremost in this array, and she was able to decide, +when the queens had passed, that the younger would not be considered a +more than average pretty girl in America, and that she was not very well +dressed. They had all stood within five feet of her, and Boyne had +appropriated one of the prettiest of the pretty bends which the gracious +young creature made to right and left, and had responded to it with an +'empressement' which he hoped had not been a sacrifice of his republican +principles. + +During the concert he sat with his eyes fixed upon the Queen where she +sat in the royal box, with her mother and her ladies behind her, and +wondered and blushed to wonder if she had noticed him when be bowed, or +if his chivalric devotion in applauding her when the audience rose to +receive her had been more apparent than that of others; whether it had +seemed the heroic act of setting forth at the head of her armies, to beat +back a German invasion, which it had essentially been, with his +instantaneous return as victor, and the Queen's abdication and adoption +of republican principles under conviction of his reasoning, and her +idolized consecration as the first chief of the Dutch republic. His +cheeks glowed, and he quaked at heart lest Lottie should surprise his +thoughts and expose them to that sarcastic acquaintance, who proved to be +a medical student resting at Scheveningen from the winter's courses and +clinics in, Vienna. He had already got on to many of Boyne s curves, and +had sacrilegiously suggested the Queen of Holland when he found him +feeding his fancy on the modern heroical romances; he advised him as an +American adventurer to compete with the European princes paying court to +her. So thin a barrier divided that malign intelligence from Boyne's +most secret dreams that he could never feel quite safe from him, and yet +he was always finding himself with him, now that he was separated from +Miss Rasmith, and Mr. Breckon was taken up so much with Ellen. On the +ship he could put many things before Mr. Breckon which must here perish +in his breast, or suffer the blight of this Mr. Trannel's raillery. The +student sat near the Kentons at table, and he was no more reverent of the +judge's modest convictions than of Boyne's fantastic preoccupations. The +worst of him was that you could not help liking him: he had a fascination +which the boy felt while he dreaded him, and now and then he did +something so pleasant that when he said something unpleasant you could +hardly believe it. + +At the end of the concert, when he rose and stood with all the rest, +while the royal party left their box, and the orchestra played the Dutch +national hymn, he said, in a loud whisper, to Boyne: "Now's your time, my +boy! Hurry out and hand her into her carriage!" + +Boyne fairly reeled at the words which translated a passage of the wild +drama playing itself in his brain, and found little support in bidding +his tormentor, "Shut up!" The retort, rude as it was, seemed +insufficient, but Boyne tried in vain to think of something else. He +tried to punish him by separating Lottie from him, but failed as signally +in that. She went off with him, and sat in a windstuhl facing his the +rest of the afternoon, with every effect of carrying on. + +Boyne was helpless, with his mother against it, when he appealed to her +to let him go and tell Lottie that she wanted her. Mrs. Kenton said that +she saw no harm in it, that Ellen was sitting in like manner with Mr. +Breckon. + +"Mr. Breckon is very different, and Ellen knows how to behave," he urged, +but his mother remained unmoved, or was too absent about something to +take any interest in the matter. In fact, she was again unhappy about +Ellen, though she put on such an air of being easy about her. Clearly, +so far as her maternal surmise could fathom the case, Mr. Breckon was +more and more interested in Ellen, and it was evident that the child was +interested in him. The situation was everything that was acceptable to +Mrs. Kenton, but she shuddered at the cloud which hung over it, and which +might any moment involve it. Again and again she had made sure that +Lottie had given Ellen no hint of Richard's ill-advised vengeance upon +Bittridge; but it was not a thing that could be kept always, and the +question was whether it could be kept till Ellen had accepted Mr. Breckon +and married him. This was beyond the question of his asking her to do +so, but it was so much more important that Mrs. Kenton was giving it her +attention first, quite out of the order of time. Besides, she had every +reason, as she felt, to count upon the event. Unless he was trifling +with Ellen, far more wickedly than Bittridge, he was in love with her, +and in Mrs. Kenton's simple experience and philosophy of life, being in +love was briefly preliminary to marrying. If she went with her anxieties +to her husband, she had first to reduce him from a buoyant optimism +concerning the affair before she could get him to listen seriously. +When this was accomplished he fell into such despair that she ended in +lifting him up and supporting him with hopes that she did not feel +herself. What they were both united in was the conviction that nothing +so good could happen in the world, but they were equally united in the +old American tradition that they must not lift a finger to secure this +supreme good for their child. + +It did not seem to them that leaving the young people constantly to +themselves was doing this. They interfered with Ellen now neither more +nor less than they had interfered with her as to Bittridge, or than they +would have interfered with her in the case of any one else. She was +still to be left entirely to herself in such matters, and Mrs. Kenton +would have kept even her thoughts off her if she could. She would have +been very glad to give her mind wholly to the study of the great events +which had long interested her here in their scene, but she felt that +until the conquest of Mr. Breckon was secured beyond the hazard of +Ellen's morbid defection at the supreme moment, she could not give her +mind to the history of the Dutch republic. + +"Don't bother me about Lottie, Boyne," she said. I have enough to think +of without your nonsense. If this Mr. Trannel is an American, that is +all that is necessary. We are all Americans together, and I don't +believe it will make remark, Lottie's sitting on the beach with him." + +"I don't see how he's different from that Bittridge," said Boyne. "He +doesn't care for anything; and he plays the banjo just like him." + +Mrs. Kenton was too troubled to laugh. She said, with finality, "Lottie +can take care of herself," and then she asked, "Boyne, do you know whom +Ellen's letters were from?" + +"One was from Bessie Pearl--" + +"Yes, she showed me that. But you don't know who the other was from?" + +"No; she didn't tell me. You know how close Ellen is." + +"Yes," the mother sighed, "she is very odd." + +Then she added, "Don't you let her know that I asked you about her +letters." + +"No," said Boyne. His audience was apparently at an end, but he seemed +still to have something on his mind. "Momma," he began afresh. + +"Well?" she answered, a little impatiently. + +"Nothing. Only I got to thinking, Is a person able to control their-- +their fancies?" + +"Fancies about what?" + +"Oh, I don't know. About falling in love." Boyne blushed. + +"Why do you want to know? You musn't think about such things, a boy like +you! It's a great pity that you ever knew anything about that Bittridge +business. It's made you too bold. But it seems to have been meant to +drag us down and humiliate us in every way." + +"Well, I didn't try to know anything about it," Boyne retorted. + +"No, that's true," his mother did him the justice to recognize. "Well, +what is it you want to know?" Boyne was too hurt to answer at once, and +his mother had to coax him a little. She did it sweetly, and apologized +to him for saying what she had said. After all, he was the youngest, and +her baby still. Her words and caresses took effect at last, and he +stammered out, "Is everybody so, or is it only the Kentons that seem to +be always putting--well, their affections--where it's perfectly useless?" + +His mother pushed him from her. "Boyne, are you silly about that +ridiculous old Miss Rasmith?" + +"No!" Boyne shouted, savagely, "I'm NOT!" + +"Who is it, then?" + +"I sha'n't tell you!" Boyne said, and tears of rage and shame came into +his eyes. + + + + + +XXI. + +In his exile from his kindred, for it came practically to that, Boyne was +able to add a fine gloom to the state which he commonly observed with +himself when he was not giving way to his morbid fancies or his morbid +fears, and breaking down in helpless subjection to the nearest member of +his household. Lottie was so taken up with her student that she scarcely +quarrelled with him any more, and they had no longer those moments of +union in which they stood together against the world. His mother had +cast him off, as he felt, very heartlessly, though it was really because +she could not give his absurdities due thought in view of the hopeful +seriousness of Ellen's affair, and Boyne was aware that his father at the +best of times was ignorant of him when he was not impatient of him. +These were not the best of times with Judge Kenton, and Boyne was not the +first object of his impatience. In the last analysis he was living until +he could get home, and so largely in the hope of this that his wife at +times could scarcely keep him from taking some step that would decide the +matter between Ellen and Breckon at once. They were tacitly agreed that +they were waiting for nothing else, and, without making their agreement +explicit, she was able to quell him by asking what he expected to do in +case there was nothing between them? Was he going to take the child back +to Tuskingum, which was the same as taking her back to Bittridge? it hurt +her to confront him with this question, and she tried other devices for +staying and appeasing him. She begged him now, seeing Boyne so forlorn, +and hanging about the hotel alone, or moping over those ridiculous books +of his, to go off with the boy somewhere and see the interesting places +within such easy reach, like Leyden and Delft if he cared nothing for the +place where William the Silent was shot, he ought to see the place that +the Pilgrims started from. She had counted upon doing those places +herself, with her husband, and it was in a sacrifice of her ideal that +she now urged him to go with Boyne. But her preoccupation with Ellen's +affair forbade her self-abandon to those high historical interests to +which she urged his devotion. She might have gone with him and Boyne, but +then she must have left the larger half of her divided mind with Ellen, +not to speak of Lottie, who refused to be a party to any such excursion. +Mrs. Kenton felt the disappointment and grieved at it, but not without +hope of repairing it later, and she did not cease from entreating the +judge to do what he could at once towards fulfilling the desires she +postponed. Once she prevailed with him, and really got him and Boyne off +for a day, but they came back early, with signs of having bored each +other intolerably, and after that it was Boyne, as much as his father, +who relucted from joint expeditions. Boyne did not so much object to +going alone, and his father said it was best to let him, though his +mother had her fears for her youngest. He spent a good deal of his time +on the trams between Scheveningen and The Hague, and he was understood to +have explored the capital pretty thoroughly. In fact, he did go about +with a valet de place, whom he got at a cheap rate, and with whom he +conversed upon the state of the country and its political affairs. The +valet said that the only enemy that Holland could fear was Germany, but +an invasion from that quarter could be easily repulsed by cutting the +dikes and drowning the invaders. The sea, he taught Boyne, was the great +defence of Holland, and it was a waste of money to keep such an army as +the Dutch had; but neither the sea nor the sword could drive out the +Germans if once they insidiously married a Prussian prince to the Dutch +Queen. + +There seemed to be no getting away from the Queen, for Boyne. The valet +not only talked about her, as the pleasantest subject which he could +find, but he insisted upon showing Boyne all her palaces. He took him +into the Parliament house, and showed him where she sat while the queen- +mother read the address from the throne. He introduced him at a bazar +where the shop-girl who spoke English better than Boyne, or at least +without the central Ohio accent, wanted to sell him a miniature of the +Queen on porcelain. She said the Queen was such a nice girl, and she was +herself such a nice girl that Boyne blushed a little in looking at her. +He bought the miniature, and then he did not know what to do with it; if +any of the family, if Lottie, found out that he had it, or that Trannel, +he should have no peace any more. He put it in his pocket, provisionally, +and when he came giddily out of the shop he felt himself taken by the +elbow and placed against the wall by the valet, who said the queens were +coming. They drove down slowly through the crowded, narrow street, +bowing right and left to the people flattened against the shops, and +again Boyne saw her so near that he could have reached out his hand and +almost touched hers. + +The consciousness of this was so strong in him that he wondered whether +he had not tried to do so. If he had he would have been arrested-- +he knew that; and so he knew that he had not done it. He knew that he +imagined doing so because it would be so awful to have done it, and he +imagined being in love with her because it would be so frantic. At the +same time he dramatized an event in which he died for her, and she became +aware of his hopeless passion at the last moment, while the anarchist +from whom he had saved her confessed that the bomb had been meant for +her. Perhaps it was a pistol. + +He escaped from the valet as soon as he could, and went back to +Scheveningen limp from this experience, but the queens were before him. +They had driven down to visit the studio of a famous Dutch painter there, +and again the doom was on Boyne to press forward with the other +spectators and wait for the queens to appear and get into their carriage. +The young Queen's looks were stamped in Boyne's consciousness, so that he +saw her wherever he turned, like the sun when one has gazed at it. He +thought how that Trannel had said he ought to hand her into her carriage, +and he shrank away for fear he should try to do so, but he could not +leave the place till she had come out with the queen--mother and driven +off. Then he went slowly and breathlessly into the hotel, feeling the +Queen's miniature in his pocket. It made his heart stand still, and then +bound forward. He wondered again what he should do with it. If he kept +it, Lottie would be sure to find it, and he could not bring himself to +the sacrilege of destroying it. He thought he would walk out on the +breakwater as far as he could and throw it into the sea, but when he got +to the end of the mole he could not do so. He decided that he would give +it to Ellen to keep for him, and not let Lottie see it; or perhaps he +might pretend he had bought it for her. He could not do that, though, +for it would not be true, and if he did he could not ask her to keep it +from Lottie. + +At dinner Mr. Trannel told him he ought to have been there to see the +Queen; that she had asked especially for him, and wanted to know if they +had not sent up her card to him. Boyne meditated an apt answer through +all the courses, but he had not thought of one when they had come to the +'corbeille de fruits', and he was forced to go to bed without having +avenged himself. + +In taking rooms for her family at the hotel, Lottie had arranged for her +emancipation from the thraldom of rooming with Ellen. She said that had +gone on long enough; if she was grown up at all, she was grown up enough +to have a room of her own, and her mother had yielded to reasoning which +began and ended with this position. She would have interfered so far as +to put Lottie into the room next her, but Lottie said that if Boyne was +the baby he ought to be next his mother; Ellen might come next him, but +she was going to have the room that was furthest from any implication of +the dependence in which she had languished; and her mother submitted +again. Boyne was not sorry; there had always been hours of the night +when he felt the need of getting at his mother for reassurance as to +forebodings which his fancy conjured up to trouble him in the wakeful +dark. It was understood that he might freely do this, and though the +judge inwardly fretted, he could not deny the boy the comfort of his +mother's encouraging love. Boyne's visits woke him, but he slept the +better for indulging in the young nerves that tremor from impressions +against which the old nerves are proof. But now, in the strange fatality +which seemed to involve him, Boyne could not go to his mother. It was +too weirdly intimate, even for her; besides, when he had already tried to +seek her counsel she had ignorantly repelled him. + +The night after his day in The Hague, when he could bear it no longer, he +put on his dressing-gown and softly opened Ellen's door, awake, Ellen?" +he whispered. + +"Yes, What is it, Boyne" her gentle voice asked. + +"He came and sat down by her bed and stole his hand into hers, which she +put out to him. The watery moonlight dripped into the room at the edges +of the shades, and the long wash of the sea made itself regularly heard +on the sands. + +"Can't you sleep?" Ellen asked again. "Are you homesick?" + +"Not exactly that. But it does seem rather strange for us to be off here +so far, doesn't it?" + +"Yes, I don't see how I can forgive myself for making you come," said +Ellen, but her voice did not sound as if she were very unhappy. + +"You couldn't help it," said Boyne, and the words suggested a question to +him. "Do you believe that such things are ordered, Ellen?" + +"Everything is ordered, isn't it?" + +"I suppose so. And if they are, we're not, to blame for what happens." + +"Not if we try to do right." + +"Of course. The Kentons always do that," said Boyne, with the faith in +his family that did not fail him in the darkest hour. "But what I mean +is that if anything comes on you that you can't foresee and you can't get +out of--" The next step was not clear, and Boyne paused. He asked, + +"Do you think that we can control our feelings, Ellen?" + +"About what?" + +"Well, about persons that we like." He added, for safety, "Or dislike." + +"I'm afraid not," said Ellen, sadly, "We ought to like persons and +dislike them for some good reason, but we don't." + +"Yes, that's what I mean," said Borne, with a long breath. "Sometimes it +seems like a kind of possession, doesn't it?" + +"It seems more like that when we like them," Ellen said. + +"Yes, that's what I mean. If a person was to take a fancy to some one +that was above him, that was richer, or older, he wouldn't be to blame +for it, would he?" + +"Was that what you wanted to ask me about?" + +Borne hesitated. "Yes" he said. He was in for it now. + +Ellen had not noticed Boyne's absorption with Miss Rasmith on the ship, +but she vaguely remembered hearing Lottie tease him about her, and she +said now, "He wouldn't be to blame for it if he couldn't help it, but if +the person was much older it would be a pity!" + +"Uh, she isn't so very much older," said Borne, more cheerfully than he +had spoken before. + +"Is it somebody that you have taken a fancy to Borne?" + +"I don't know, Ellen. That's what makes it so kind of awful. I can't +tell whether it's a real fancy, or I only think it is. Sometimes I think +it is, and sometimes I think that I think so because I am afraid to +believe it. Do you under Ellen?" + +"It seems to me that I do. But you oughtn't to let your fancy run away +with you, Boyne. What a queer boy!" + +"It's a kind of fascination, I suppose. But whether it's a real fancy or +an unreal one, I can't get away from it." + +"Poor boy!" said his sister. + +"Perhaps it's those books. Sometimes I think it is, and I laugh at the +whole idea; and then again it's so strong that I can't get away from it. +Ellen!" + +"Well, Boyne?" + +I could tell you who it is, if you think that would do any good--if you +think it would help me to see it in the true light, or you could help me +more by knowing who it is than you can now." + +"I hope it isn't anybody that you can't respect, Boyne?" + +"No, indeed! It's somebody you would never dream of." + +"Well?" Ellen was waiting for him to speak, but he could not get the +words out, even to her. + +"I guess I'll tell you some other time. Maybe I can get over it myself." + +"It would be the best way if you could." + +He rose and left her bedside, and then he came back. " Ellen, I've got +something that I wish you would keep for me." + +"What is it? Of course I will." + +"Well, it's--something I don't want you to let Lottie know I've got. +She tells that Mr. Trannel everything, and then he wants to make fun. +Do you think he's so very witty?" + +"I can't help laughing at some things he says." + +"I suppose he is," Boyne ruefully admitted. "But that doesn't make you +like him any better. Well, if you won't tell Lottie, I'll give it to you +now." + +"I won't tell anything that you don't want me to, Boyne." + +"It's nothing. It's just-a picture of the Queen on porcelain, that I got +in The Hague. The guide took me into the store, and I thought I ought to +get something." + +"Oh, that's very nice, Boyne. I do like the Queen so much. She's so +sweet!" + +"Yes, isn't she?" said Boyne, glad of Ellen's approval. So far, at +least, he was not wrong. "Here it is now." + +He put the miniature in Ellen's hand. She lifted herself on her elbow. +"Light the candle and let me see it." + +"No, no!" he entreated. "It might wake Lottie, and--and-- Good-night, +Ellen." + +"Can you go to sleep now, Boyne?" + +"Oh yes. I'm all right. Good-night." + +"Good-night, then." + +Borne stooped over and kissed her, and went to the door. He came back +and asked, "You don't think it was silly, or anything, for me to get it?" + +"No, indeed! It's just what you will like to have when you get home. +We've all seen her so often. I'll put it in my trunk, and nobody shall +know about it till we're safely back in Tuskingum." + +Boyne sighed deeply. "Yes, that's what I meant. Good-night." + +"Good-night, Boyne." + +"I hope I haven't waked you up too much?" + +"Oh no. I can get to sleep easily again." + +"Well, good-night." Boyne sighed again, but not so deeply, and this time +he went out. + + + + +XXII. + +Mrs. Kenton woke with the clear vision which is sometimes vouchsafed to +people whose eyes are holden at other hours of the day. She had heard +Boyne opening and shutting Ellen's door, and her heart smote her that he +should have gone to his sister with whatever trouble he was in rather +than come to his mother. It was natural that she should put the blame on +her husband, and "Now, Mr. Kenton," she began, with an austerity of voice +which he recognized before he was well awake, "if you won't take Boyne +off somewhere to-day, I will. I think we had better all go. We have +been here a whole fortnight, and we have got thoroughly rested, and there +is no excuse for our wasting our time any longer. If we are going to see +Holland, we had better begin doing it." + +The judge gave a general assent, and said that if she wanted to go to +Flushing he supposed he could find some garden-seeds there, in the flower +and vegetable nurseries, which would be adapted to the climate of +Tuskingum, and they could all put in the day pleasantly, looking round +the place. Whether it was the suggestion of Tuskingum in relation to +Flushing that decided her against the place, or whether she had really +meant to go to Leyden, she now expressed the wish, as vividly as if it +were novel, to explore the scene of the Pilgrims' sojourn before they +sailed for Plymouth, and she reproached him for not caring about the +place when they both used to take such an interest in it at home. + +"Well," said the judge, "if I were at home I should take an interest in +it here." + +This provoked her to a silence which he thought it best to break in tacit +compliance with her wish, and he asked, "Do you propose taking the whole +family and the appurtenances? We shall be rather a large party." + +"Ellen would wish to go, and I suppose Mr. Breckon. We couldn't very +well go without them." + +"And how about Lottie and that young Trannel?" + +"We can't leave him out, very well. I wish we could. I don't like him." + +"There's nothing easier than not asking him, if you don't want him." + +"Yes, there is, when you've got a girl like Lottie to deal with. Quite +likely she would ask him herself. We must take him because we can't +leave her." + +"Yes, I reckon," the judge acquiesced. + +"I'm glad," Mrs. Kenton said, after a moment, "that it isn't Ellen he's +after; it almost reconciles me to his being with Lottie so much. I only +wonder he doesn't take to Ellen, he's so much like that--" + +She did not say out what was in her mind, but her husband knew. "Yes, +I've noticed it. This young Breckon was quite enough so, for my taste. +I don't know what it is that just saves him from it." + +"He's good. You could tell that from the beginning." + +They went off upon the situation that, superficially or subliminally, +was always interesting them beyond anything in the world, and they did +not openly recur to Mrs. Kenton's plan for the day till they met their +children at breakfast. It was a meal at which Breckon and Trammel were +both apt to join them, where they took it at two of the tables on the +broad, seaward piazza of the hotel when the weather was fine. Both the +young men now applauded her plan, in their different sorts. It was +easily arranged that they should go by train and not by tram from The +Hague. The train was chosen, and Mrs. Kenton, when she went to her room +to begin the preparations for a day's pleasure which constitute so +distinctly a part of its pain, imagined that everything was settled. She +had scarcely closed the door behind her when Lottie opened it and shut it +again behind her. + +"Mother," she said, in the new style of address to which she was +habituating Mrs. Kenton, after having so long called her momma, "I am not +going with you." + +"Indeed you are, then!" her mother retorted. "Do you think I would +leave you here all day with that fellow? A nice talk we should make!" + +"You are perfectly welcome to that fellow, mother, and as he's accepted +he will have to go with you, and there won't be any talk. But, as I +remarked before, I am not going." + +"Why aren't you going, I should like to know?" + +"Because I don't like the company." + +"What do you mean? Have you got anything against Mr. Breckon?" + +"He's insipid, but as long as Ellen don't mind it I don't care. I object +to Mr. Trannel!" + +"Why?" + +I don't see why I should have to tell you. If I said I liked him you +might want to know, but it seems to me that my not liking him is my not +liking him is my own affair." There was a kind of logic in this that +silenced Mrs. Kenton for the moment. In view of her advantage +Lottie relented so far as to add, "I've found out something about him." + +Mrs. Kenton was imperative in her alarm. "What is it?" she demanded. + +Lottie answered, obliquely: "Well, I didn't leave The Hague to get rid of +them, and then take up with one of them at Scheveningen." + +"One of what?" + +"COOK'S TOURISTS, if you must know, mother. Mr. Trannel, as you call +him, is a Cook's tourist, and that's the end of it. I have got no use +for him from this out." + +Mrs. Kenton was daunted, and not for the first time, by her daughter's +superior knowledge of life. She could put Boyne down sometimes, though +not always, when be attempted to impose a novel code of manners or morals +upon her, but she could not cope with Lottie. In the present case she +could only ask, "Well?" + +"Well, they're the cheapest of the cheap. He actually showed me his +coupons, and tried to put me down with the idea that everybody used them. +But I guess he found it wouldn't work. He said if you were not +personally conducted it was all right." + +"Now, Lottie, you have got to tell me just what you mean," said Mrs. +Kenton, and from having stood during this parley, she sat down to hear +Lottie out at her leisure. But if there was anything more difficult than +for Lottie to be explicit it was to make her be so, and in the end Mrs. +Kenton was scarcely wiser than she was at the beginning to her daughter's +reasons. It appeared that if you wanted to be cheap you could travel +with those coupons, and Lottie did not wish to be cheap, or have anything +to do with those who were. The Kentons had always held up their heads, +and if Ellen had chosen to disgrace them with Bittridge, Dick had made it +all right, and she at least was not going to do anything that she would +be ashamed of. She was going to stay at home, and have her meals in her +room till they got back. + +Her mother paid no heed to her repeated declaration. "Lottie," she +asked, with the heart-quake that the thought of Richard's act always gave +her with reference to Ellen, "have you ever let out the least hint of +that?" + +"Of course I haven't," Lottie scornfully retorted. I hope I know what a +crank Ellen is." + +They were not just the terms in which Mrs. Kenton would have chosen to be +reassured, but she was glad to be assured in any terms. She said, +vaguely: "I believe in my heart that I will stay at home, too. All this +has given me a bad headache." + +"I was going to have a headache myself," said Lottie, with injury. +"But I suppose I can get on along without. I can just simply say I'm not +going. If he proposes to stay, too, I can soon settle that." + +"The great difficulty will be to get your father to go." + +"You can make Ellen make him," Lottie suggested. + +"That is true," said Mrs. Kenton, with such increasing absence that her +daughter required of her: + +"Are you staying on my account?" + +"I think you had better not be left alone the whole day. But I am not +staying on your account. I don't believe we had so many of us better go. +It might look a little pointed." + +Lottie laughed harshly. "I guess Mr. Breckon wouldn't see the point, +he's so perfectly gone." + +"Do you really believe it, Lottie?" Mrs. Kenton entreated, with a sudden +tenderness for her younger daughter such as she did not always feel. + +"I should think anybody would believe it--anybody but Ellen." + +"Yes," Mrs. Kenton dreamily assented. + +Lottie made her way to the door. "Well, if you do stay, mother, I'm not +going to have you hanging round me all day. I can chaperon myself." + +"Lottie," her mother tried to stay her, "I wish you would go. I don't +believe that Mr. Trannel will be much of an addition. He will be on your +poor father's hands all day, or else Ellen's, and if you went you could +help off." + +"Thank you, mother. I've had quite all I want of Mr. Trannel. You can +tell him he needn't go, if you want to." + +Lottie at least did not leave her mother to make her excuses to the party +when they met for starting. Mrs. Kenton had deferred her own till she +thought it was too late for her husband to retreat, and then bunglingly +made them, with so much iteration that it seemed to her it would have +been far less pointed, as concerned Mr. Breckon, if she had gone. Lottie +sunnily announced that she was going to stay with her mother, and did not +even try to account for her defection to Mr. Trannel. + +"What's the matter with my staying, too?" he asked. "It seems to me +there are four wheels to this coach now." + +He had addressed his misgiving more to Lottie than the rest; but with the +same sunny indifference to the consequence for others that she had put on +in stating her decision, she now discharged herself from further +responsibility by turning on her heel and leaving it with the party +generally. In the circumstances Mr. Trannel had no choice but to go, +and he was supported, possibly, by the hope of taking it out of Lottie +some other time. + +It was more difficult for Mrs. Kenton to get rid of the judge, but an +inscrutable frown goes far in such exigencies. It seems to explain, and +it certainly warns, and the husband on whom it is bent never knows, even +after the longest experience, whether he had better inquire further. +Usually he decides that he had better not, and Judge Kenton went off +towards the tram with Boyne in the cloud of mystery which involved them +both as to Mrs. Kenton's meaning. + + + + +XXIII. + + +Trannel attached himself as well as he could to Breckon and Ellen, and +Breckon had an opportunity not fully offered him before to note a +likeness between himself and a fellow-man whom he was aware of not +liking, though he tried to love him, as he felt it right to love all men. +He thought he had not been quite sympathetic enough with Mrs. Kenton in +her having to stay behind, and he tried to make it up to Mr. Trannel in +his having to come. He invented civilities to show him, and ceded his +place next Ellen as if Trannel had a right to it. Trannel ignored him in +keeping it, unless it was recognizing Breckon to say, "Oh, I hope I'm not +in your way, old fellow?" and then making jokes to Ellen. Breckon could +not say the jokes were bad, though the taste of them seemed to him so. +The man had a fleering wit, which scorched whatever he turned it upon, +and yet it was wit. "Why don't you try him in American?" he asked at +the failure of Breckon and the tram conductor to understand each other in +Dutch. He tried the conductor himself in American, and he was so +deplorably funny that it was hard for Breckon to help being 'particeps +criminus', at least in a laugh. + +He asked himself if that were really the kind of man he was, and he grew +silent and melancholy in the fear that it was a good deal the sort of +man. To this morbid fancy Trannel seemed himself in a sort of excess, +or what he would be if he were logically ultimated. He remembered all +the triviality of his behavior with Ellen at first, and rather sickened +at the thought of some of his early pleasantries. She was talking gayly +now with Trannel, and Breckon wondered whether she was falling under the +charm that he felt in him, in spite of himself. + +If she was, her father was not. The judge sat on the other side of the +car, and unmistakably glowered at the fellow's attempts to make himself +amusing to Ellen. Trannel himself was not insensible to the judge's +mood. Now and then he said something to intensify it. He patronized the +judge and he made fun of the tourist character in which Boyne had got +himself up, with a field-glass slung by a strap under one arm and a red +Baedeker in his hand. He sputtered with malign laughter at a rather +gorgeous necktie which Boyne had put on for the day, and said it was not +a very good match for the Baedeker. + +Boyne retorted rudely, and that amused Trannel still more. He became +personal to Breckon, and noted the unclerical cut of his clothes. He +said he ought to have put on his uniform for an expedition like that, in +case they got into any sort of trouble. To Ellen alone he was +inoffensive, unless he overdid his polite attentions to her in carrying +her parasol for her, and helping her out of the tram, when they arrived, +shouldering every one else away, and making haste to separate her from +the others and then to walk on with her a little in advance. + +Suddenly he dropped her, and fell back to Boyne and his father, while +Breckon hastened forward to her side. Trannel put his arm across Boyne's +shoulders and asked him if he were mad, and then laughed at him. "You're +all right, Boyne, but you oughtn't to be so approachable. You ought to +put on more dignity, and repel familiarity!" + +Boyne could only twitch away in silence that he made as haughty as he +could, but not so haughty that Trannel did not find it laughable, and he +laughed in a teasing way that made Breckon more and more serious. He was +aware of becoming even solemn with the question of his likeness to +Trannel. He was of Trannel's quality, and their difference was a matter +of quantity, and there was not enough difference. In his sense of their +likeness Breckon vowed himself to a gravity of behavior evermore which he +should not probably be able to observe, but the sample he now displayed +did not escape the keen vigilance of Trannel. + +"With the exception of Miss Kenton," he addressed himself to the party, +"you're all so easy and careless that if you don't look out you'll lose +me. Miss Kenton, I wish you would keep an eye on me. I don't want to +get lost." + +Ellen laughed--she could not help it--and her laughing made it less +possible than before for Breckon to unbend and meet Trannel on his own +ground, to give him joke for joke, to exchange banter with him. He might +never have been willing to do that, but now he shrank from it, in his +realization of their likeness, with an abhorrence that rendered him +rigid. + +The judge was walking ahead with Boyne, and his back expressed such +severe disapproval that, between her fear that Trannel would say +something to bring her father's condemnation on him and her sense of +their inhospitable attitude towards one who was their guest, in a sort, +she said, with her gentle gayety, "Then you must keep near me, Mr. +Trannel. I'll see that nothing happens." + +"That's very sweet of you," said Trannel, soberly. Whether he had now +vented his malicious humor and was ready to make himself agreeable, or +was somewhat quelled by the unfriendly ambient he had created, or was +wrought upon by her friendliness, he became everything that could be +wished in a companion for a day's pleasure. He took the lead at the +station, and got them a compartment in the car to themselves for the +little run to Leyden, and on the way he talked very well. He politely +borrowed Boyne's Baedeker, and decided for the party what they had best +see, and showed an acceptable intelligence, as well as a large experience +in the claims of Leyden upon the visitor's interest. He had been there +often before, it seemed, and in the event it appeared that he had chosen +the days sightseeing wisely. + +He no longer addressed himself respectfully to Ellen alone, but he re- +established himself in Boyne's confidence with especial pains, and he +conciliated Breckon by a recognition of his priority with Ellen with a +delicacy refined enough for even the susceptibility of a lover alarmed +for his rights. If he could not overcome the reluctance of the judge, +he brought him to the civil response which any one who tried for Kenton's +liking achieved, even if he did not merit it, and there remained no more +reserve in Kenton's manner than there had been with the young man from +the first. He had never been a persona grata to the judge, and if he did +not become so now, he at least ceased to be actively displeasing. + +That was the year before the young Queen came to her own, and in the last +days of her minority she was visiting all the cities of her future +dominion with the queen-mother. When Kenton's party left the station +they found Leyden as gay for her reception as flags and banners could +make the gray old town, and Trannel relapsed for a moment so far as to +suggest that the decorations were in honor of Boyne's presence, but he +did not abuse the laugh that this made to Boyne's further shame. + +There was no carriage at the station which would hold the party of five, +and they had to take two vehicles. Trannel said it was lucky they wanted +two, since there were no more, and he put himself in authority to assort +the party. The judge, he decided, must go with Ellen and Breckon, and he +hoped Boyne would let him go in his carriage, if he would sit on the box +with the driver. The judge afterwards owned that he had weakly indulged +his dislike of the fellow, in letting him take Boyne, and not insisting +on going himself with Tramiel, but this was when it was long too late. +Ellen had her misgivings, but, except for that gibe about the +decorations, Trannel had been behaving so well that she hoped she might +trust Boyne with him. She made a kind of appeal for her brother, bidding +him and Trannel take good care of each other, and Trannel promised so +earnestly to look after Boyne that she ought to have been alarmed for +him. He took the lead, rising at times to wave a reassuring hand to her +over the back of his carriage, and, in fact, nothing evil could very well +happen from him, with the others following so close upon him. They met +from time to time in the churches they visited, and when they lost sight +of one another, through a difference of opinion in the drivers as to the +best route, they came together at the place Trannel had appointed for +their next reunion. + +He showed himself a guide so admirably qualified that he found a way for +them to objects of interest that had at first denied themselves in +anticipation of the visit from the queens; when they all sat down at +lunch in the restaurant which he found for them, he could justifiably +boast that he would get them into the Town Hall, which they had been told +was barred for the day against anything but sovereign curiosity. He was +now on the best term with Boyne, who seemed to have lost all diffidence +of him, and treated him with an easy familiarity that showed itself in +his slapping him on the shoulder and making dints in his hat. Trannel +seemed to enjoy these caresses, and, when they parted again for the +afternoon's sight-seeing, Ellen had no longer a qualm in letting Boyne +drive off with him. + +He had, in fact, known how to make himself very acceptable to Boyne. He +knew all the originals of his heroical romances, and was able to give the +real names and the geographical position of those princesses who had been +in love with American adventurers. Under promise of secrecy he disclosed +the real names of the adventurers themselves, now obscured in the titles +given them to render them worthy their union with sovereigns. He resumed +his fascinating confidences when they drove off after luncheon, and he +resumed them after each separation from the rest of the party. Boyne +listened with a flushed face and starting eyes, and when at last Trannel +offered, upon a pledge of the most sacred nature from him never to reveal +a word of what he said, he began to relate an adventure of which he was +himself the hero. It was a bold travesty of one of the latest romances +that Boyne had read, involving the experience of an American very little +older than Boyne himself, to whom a wilful young crown-princess, in a +little state which Trannel would not name even to Boyne, had made +advances such as he could not refuse to meet without cruelty. He was +himself deeply in love with her, but he felt bound in honor not to +encourage her infatuation as long as he could help, for he had been +received by her whole family with such kindness and confidence that he +had to consider them. + +"Oh, pshaw!" Boyne broke in upon him, doubting, and yet wishing not to +doubt, "that's the same as the story of 'Hector Folleyne'." + +"Yes," said Trannel, quietly. "I thought you would recognize it." + +"Well, but," Boyne went on, "Hector married the princess!" + +"In the book, yes. The fellow I gave the story to said it would never do +not to have him marry her, and it would help to disguise the fact. +That's what he said, after he had given the whole thing away." + +"And do you mean to say it was you? Oh, you can't stuff me! How did you +get out of marrying her, I should like to know, when the chancellor came +to you and said that the whole family wanted you to, for fear it would +kill her if--" + +"Well, there was a scene, I can't deny that. We had a regular family +conclave--father, mother, Aunt Hitty, and all the folks--and we kept it +up pretty much all night. The princess wasn't there, of course, and I +could convince them that I was right. If she had been, I don't believe I +could have held out. But they had to listen to reason, and I got away +between two days." + +"But why didn't you marry her?" + +"Well, for one thing, as I told you, I thought 1 ought to consider her +family. Then there was a good fellow, the crown-prince of Saxe- +Wolfenhutten, who was dead in love with her, and was engaged to her +before I turned up. I had been at school with him, and I felt awfully +sorry for him; and I thought I ought to sacrifice myself a little to him. +But I suppose the thing that influenced me most was finding out that if I +married the princess I should have to give up my American citizenship and +become her subject." + +"Well?" Boyne panted. + +"Well, would you have done it?" + +"Couldn't you have got along without doing that?" + +"That was the only thing I couldn't get around, somehow. So I left." + +"And the princess, did she--die?" + +"It takes a good deal more than that to kill a fifteen-year-old +princess," said Trannel, and he gave a harsh laugh. "She married Saxe- +Wolfenhutten." Boyne was silent. "Now, I don't want you to speak of +this till after I leave Scheveningen--especially to Miss Lottie. You +know how girls are, and I think Miss Lottie is waiting to get a bind on +me, anyway. If she heard how I was cut out of my chance with that +princess she'd never let me believe I gave her up of my own free will?" + +"NO, no; I won't tell her." + +Boyne remained in a silent rapture, and he did not notice they were no +longer following the rest of their party in the other carriage. This had +turned down a corner, at which Mr. Breckon, sitting on the front seat, +had risen and beckoned their driver to follow, but their driver, who +appeared afterwards to have not too much a head of his own, or no head at +all, had continued straight on, in the rear of a tram-car, which was +slowly finding its way through the momently thickening crowd. Boyne was +first aware that it was a humorous crowd when, at a turn of the street, +their equipage was greeted with ironical cheers by a group of gay young +Dutchmen on the sidewalk. Then he saw that the sidewalks were packed +with people, who spread into the street almost to the tram, and that the +house fronts were dotted with smiling Dutch faces, the faces of pretty +Dutch girls, who seemed to share the amusement of the young fellows +below. + +Trannel lay back in the carriage. "This is something like," he said. +"Boyne, they're on to the distinguished young Ohioan--the only Ohioan out +of office in Europe." + +"Yes," said Boyne, trying to enjoy it. " I wonder what they are holloing +at." + +Trannel laughed. "They're holloing at your Baedeker, my dear boy. They +never saw one before," and Boyne was aware that he was holding his red- +backed guide conspicuously in view on his lap. "They know you're a +foreigner by it." + +"Don't you think we ought to turn down somewhere? I don't see poppa +anywhere." He rose and looked anxiously back over the top of their +carriage. The crowd, closing in behind it, hailed his troubled face with +cries that were taken up by the throng on the sidewalks. Boyne turned +about to find that the tram-car which they had been following had +disappeared round a corner, but their driver was still keeping on. At a +wilder burst of applause Trannel took off his hat and bowed to the crowd, +right and left. + +"Bow, bow!" he said to Boyne. "They'll be calling for a speech the next +thing. Bow, I tell you!" + +"Tell him to turn round!" cried the boy. + +"I can't speak Dutch," said Trannel, and Boyne leaned forward and poked +the driver in the back. + +"Go back!" he commanded. + +The driver shook his head and pointed forward with his whip. "He's all +right," said Trannel. "He can't turn now. We've got to take the next +corner." The street in front was empty, and the people were crowding +back on the sidewalks. Loud, vague noises made themselves heard round +the corner to which the driver had pointed. "By Jove!" Trannel said, +"I believe they're coming round that way." + +"Who are coming?" Boyne palpitated. + +"The queens." + +"The queens?" Boyne gasped; it seemed to him that he shrieked the words. + +"Yes. And there's a tobacconist's now," said Trannel, as if that were +what he had been looking for all along. "I want some cigarettes." + +He leaped lightly from the carriage, and pushed his way out of sight on +the sidewalk. Boyne remained alone in the vehicle, staring wildly round; +the driver kept slowly and stupidly on, Boyne did not know how much +farther. He could not speak; he felt as if he could not stir. But the +moment came when he could not be still. He gave a galvanic jump to the +ground, and the friendly crowd on the sidewalk welcomed him to its ranks +and closed about him. The driver had taken the lefthand corner, just +before a plain carriage with the Queen and the queen-mother came in sight +round the right. The young Queen was bowing to the people, gently, and +with a sort of mechanical regularity. Now and then a brighter smile than +that she conventionally wore lighted up her face. The simple progress +was absolutely without state, except for the aide-de-camp on horseback +who rode beside the carriage, a little to the front. + +Boyne stood motionless on the curb, where a friendly tall Dutchman had +placed him in front that he might see the Queen. + +"Hello!" said the voice of Trannel, and elbowing his way to Boyne's +side, he laughed and coughed through the smoke of his cigarette. "I was +afraid you had lost me. Where's your carriage?" + +Boyne did not notice his mockeries. He was entranced in that beatific +vision; his boy-heart went out in worship to the pretty young creature +with a reverence that could not be uttered. The tears came into his +eyes. + +"There, there! She's bowing to you, Boyne. she's smiling right at you. +By Jove! She's beckoning to you!" + +"You be still!" Boyne retorted, finding his tongue. "She isn't doing +any such a thing." + +"She is, I swear she is! She's doing it again! She's stopping the +carriage. Oh, go out and see what she wants! Don't you know that a +queen's wish is a command? You've got to go!" + +Boyne never could tell just how it happened. The carriage did seem to be +stopping, and the Queen seemed to be looking at him. He thought he must, +and he started into the street towards her, and the carriage came abreast +of him. He had almost reached the carriage when the aide turned and +spurred his horse before him. Four strong hands that were like iron +clamps were laid one on each of Boyne's elbows and shoulders, and he was +haled away, as if by superhuman force. "Mr. Trannel!" he called out. +in his agony, but the wretch had disappeared, and Boyne was left with his +captors, to whom he could have said nothing if he could have thought of +anything to say. + +The detectives pulled him through the crowd and hurried him swiftly down +the side street. A little curiosity straggled after him in the shape of +small Dutch boys, too short to look over the shoulders of men at the +queens, and too weak to make their way through them to the front; but for +them, Boyne seemed alone in the world with the relentless officers, who +were dragging him forward and hurting him so with the grip of their iron +hands. He lifted up his face to entreat them not to hold him so tight, +and suddenly it was as if he beheld an angel standing in his path. It +was Breckon who was there, staring at him aghast. + +"Why, Boyne!" he cried. + +"Oh, Mr. Breckon!" Boyne wailed back. "Is it you? Oh, do tell them I +didn't mean to do anything! I thought she beckoned to me." + +"Who? Who beckoned to you?" + +"The Queen!" Boyne sobbed, while the detectives pulled him relentlessly +on. + +Breckon addressed them suavely in their owe tongue which had never come +in more deferential politeness from human lips. He ventured the belief +that there was a mistake; he assured them that he knew their prisoner, +and that he was the son of a most respectable American family, whom they +could find at the Kurhaus in Scheveningen. He added some irrelevancies, +and got for all answer that they had made Boyne's arrest for sufficient +reasons, and were taking him to prison. If his friends wished to +intervene in his behalf they could do so before the magistrate, but for +the present they must admonish Mr. Breckon not to put himself in the way +of the law. + +"Don't go, Mr. Breckon!" Boyne implored him, as his captors made him +quicken his pace after slowing a little for their colloquy with Breckon. +"Oh, where is poppa? He could get me away. Oh, where is poppa?" + +"Don't! Don't call out, Boyne," Breckon entreated. "Your father is +right here at the end of the street. He's in the carriage there with +Miss Kenton. I was coming to look for you. Don't cry out so!" + +"No, no, I won't, Mr. Breckon. I'll be perfectly quiet now. Only do get +poppa quick! He can tell them in a minute that it's all right!" + +He made a prodigious effort to control himself, while Breckon ran a +little ahead, with some wild notion of preparing Ellen. As he +disappeared at the corner, Boyne choked a sob into a muffed bellow, and +was able to meet the astonished eyes of his father and sister in this +degree of triumph. + +They had not in the least understood Breckon's explanation, and, in fact, +it had not been very lucid. At sight of her brother strenuously upheld +between the detectives, and dragged along the sidewalk, Ellen sprang from +the carriage and ran towards him. "Why, what's the matter with Boyne?" +she demanded. "Are you hurt, Boyne, dear? Are they taking him to the +hospital?" + +Before he could answer, and quite before the judge could reach the +tragical group, she had flung her arms round Boyne's neck, and was +kissing his tear-drabbled face, while he lamented back, "They're taking +me to prison." + +"Taking you to prison? I should like to know what for! What are you +taking my brother to prison for?" she challenged the detectives, who +paused, bewildered, while all the little Dutch boys round admired this +obstruction of the law, and several Dutch housewives, too old to go out +to see the queens, looked down from their windows. It was wholly +illegal, but the detectives were human. They could snub such a friend of +their prisoner as Breckon, but they could not meet the dovelike ferocity +of Ellen with unkindness. They explained as well as they might, and at a +suggestion which Kenton made through Breckon, they admitted that it was +not beside their duty to take Boyne directly to a magistrate, who could +pass upon his case, and even release him upon proper evidence of his +harmlessness, and sufficient security for any demand that justice might +make for his future appearance. + +"Then," said the judge, quietly, "tell them that we will go with them. +It will be all right, Boyne. Ellen, you and I will get back into the +carriage, and--" + +"No!" Boyne roared. "Don't leave me, Nelly!" + +"Indeed, I won't leave you, Boyne! Mr. Breckon, you get into the +carriage with poppa, and I--" + +"I think I had better go with you, Miss Kenton," said Breckon, and in a +tender superfluity they both accompanied Boyne on foot, while the judge +remounted to his place in the carriage and kept abreast of them on their +way to the magistrate's. + + + + +XXIV. + +The magistrate conceived of Boyne's case with a readiness that gave the +judge a high opinion of his personal and national intelligence. He even +smiled a little, in accepting the explanation which Breckon was able to +make him from Boyne, but he thought his duty to give the boy a fatherly +warning for the future. He remarked to Breckon that it was well for +Boyne that the affair had not happened in Germany, where it would have +been found a much more serious matter, though, indeed, he added, it had +to be seriously regarded anywhere in these times, when the lives of +sovereigns were so much at the mercy of all sorts of madmen and +miscreants. He relaxed a little from his severity in his admonition to +say directly to Boyne that queens, even when they wished to speak with +people, did not beckon them in the public streets. When this speech +translated to Boyne by Breckon, whom the magistrate complimented on the +perfection of his Dutch, Boyne hung his head sheepishly, and could not be +restored to his characteristic dignity again in the magistrate's +presence. The judge gratefully shook hands with the friendly justice, +and made him a little speech of thanks, which Breckon interpreted, and +then the justice shook hand with the judge, and gracefully accepted the +introduction which he offered him to Ellen. They parted with reciprocal +praises and obeisances, which included even the detectives. The judge +had some question, which he submitted to Breckon, whether he ought not to +offer them something, but Breckon thought not. + +Breckon found it hard to abdicate the sort of authority in which his +knowledge of Dutch had placed him, and when he protested that he had done +nothing but act as interpreter, Ellen said, "Yes, but we couldn't have +done anything without you," and this was the view that Mrs. Kenton took +of the matter in the family conclave which took place later in the +evening. Breckon was not allowed to withdraw from it, in spite of many +modest efforts, before she had bashfully expressed her sense of his +service to him, and made Boyne share her thanksgiving. She had her arm +about the boy's shoulder in giving Breckon her hand, and when Breckon had +got away she pulled Boyne to her in a more peremptory embrace. + +"Now, Boyne," she said, "I am not going to have any more nonsense. I +want to know why you did it." + +The judge and Ellen had already conjectured clearly enough, and Boyne did +not fear them. But he looked at his younger sister as he sulkily +answered, "I am not going to tell you before Lottie." + +"Come in here, then," said his mother, and she led him into the next room +and closed the door. She quickly returned without him. "Yes," she +began, "it's just as I supposed; it was that worthless fellow who put him +up to it. Of course, it began with those fool books he's been reading, +and the notions that Miss Rasmith put into his head. But he never would +have done anything if it hadn't been for Mr. Trannel." + +Lottie had listened in silent scorn to the whole proceedings up to this +point, and had refused a part in the general recognition of Breckon as a +special providence. Now she flashed out with a terrible volubility: +"What did I tell you? What else could you expect of a Cook's tourist? +And mom-- mother wanted to make me go with you, after I told her what he +was! Well, if I had have gone, I'll bet I could have kept him from +playing his tricks. I'll bet he wouldn't have taken any liberties, with +me along. I'll bet if he had, it wouldn't have been Boyne that got +arrested. I'll bet he wouldn't have got off so easily with the +magistrate, either! But I suppose you'll all let him come bowing and +smiling round in the morning, like butter wouldn't melt in your mouths. +That seems to be the Kenton way. Anybody can pull our noses, or get us +arrested that wants to, and we never squeak." She went on a long time to +this purpose, Mrs. Kenton listening with an air almost of conviction, and +Ellen patiently bearing it as a right that Lottie had in a matter where +she had been otherwise ignored. + +The judge broke out, not upon Lottie, but upon his wife. "Good heavens, +Sarah, can't you make the child hush?" + +Lottie answered for her mother, with a crash of nerves and a gush of +furious tears: "Oh, I've got to hush, I suppose. It's always the way +when I'm trying to keep up the dignity of the family. I suppose it will +be cabled to America, and by tomorrow it will be all over Tuskingum how +Boyne was made a fool of and got arrested. But I bet there's one person +in Tuskingum that won't have any remarks to make, and that's Bittridge. +Not, as long as Dick's there he won't." + +"Lottie!" cried her mother, and her father started towards her, while +Ellen still sat patiently quiet. + +"Oh, well!" Lottie submitted. "But if Dick was here I know this Trannel +wouldn't get off so smoothly. Dick would give him a worse cowhiding than +he did Bittridge." + +Half the last word was lost in the bang of the door which Lottie slammed +behind her, leaving her father and mother to a silence which Ellen did +not offer to break. The judge had no heart to speak, in his dismay, and +it was Mrs. Kenton who took the word. + +"Ellen," she began, with compassionate gentleness, " we tried to keep it +from you. We knew how you would feel. But now we have got to tell you. +Dick did cowhide him when he got back to Tuskingum. Lottie wrote out to +Dick about it, how Mr. Bittridge had behaved in New York. Your father +and I didn't approve of it, and Dick didn't afterwards; but, yes, he did +do it." + +"I knew it, momma," said Ellen, sadly. + +"You knew it! How?" + +"That other letter I got when we first came--it was from his mother." + +"Did she tell--" + +"Yes. It was terrible she seemed to feel so. And I was sorry for her. +I thought I ought to answer it, and I did. I told her I was sorry, too. +I tried not to blame Richard. I don't believe I did. And I tried not to +blame him. She was feeling badly enough without that." + +Her father and mother looked at each other; they did not speak, and she +asked, "Do you think I oughtn't to have written?" + +Her father answered, a little tremulously: "You did right, Ellen. And I +am sure that you did it in just the right way." + +"I tried to. I thought I wouldn't worry you about it." + +She rose, and now her mother thought she was going to say that it put an +end to everything; that she must go back and offer herself as a sacrifice +to the injured Bittridges. Her mind had reverted to that moment on the +steamer when Ellen told her that nothing had reconciled her to what had +happened with Bittridge but the fact that all the wrong done had been +done to themselves; that this freed her. In her despair she could not +forbear asking, "What did you write to her, Ellen?" + +"Nothing. I just said that I was very sorry, and that I knew how she +felt. I don't remember exactly." + +She went up and kissed her mother. She seemed rather fatigued than +distressed, and her father asked her. "Are you going to bed, my dear?" + +"Yes, I'm pretty tired, and I should think you would be, too, poppa. +I'll speak to poor Boyne. Don't mind Lottie. I suppose she couldn't +help saying it." She kissed her father, and slipped quietly into Boyne's +room, from which they could hear her passing on to her own before they +ventured to say anything to each other in the hopeful bewilderment to +which she had left them. + +"Well?" said the judge. + +"Well?" Mrs. Kenton returned, in a note of exasperation, as if she were +not going to let herself be forced to the initiative. + +"I thought you thought--" + +"I did think that. Now I don't know what to think. We have got to +wait." + +"I'm willing to wait for Ellen!" + +"She seems," said Mrs. Kenton, "to have more sense than both the other +children put together, and I was afraid--" + +"She might easily have more sense than Boyne, or Lottie, either." + +"Well, I don't know," Mrs. Kenton began. But she did not go on to resent +the disparagement which she had invited. "What I was afraid of was her +goodness. It was her goodness that got her into the trouble, to begin +with. If she hadn't been so good, that fellow could never have fooled +her as he did. She was too innocent." + +The judge could not forbear the humorous view. "Perhaps she's getting +wickeder, or not so innocent. At any rate, she doesn't seem to have been +take in by Trannel." + +"He didn't pay any attention to her. He was all taken up with Lottie." + +"Well, that was lucky. Sarah," said the judge, "do you think he is like +Bittridge?" + +"He's made me think of him all the time." + +"It's curious," the judge mused. "I have always noticed how our faults +repeat themselves, but I didn't suppose our fates would always take the +same shape, or something like it." Mrs. Kenton stared at him. "When +this other one first made up to us on the boat my heart went down. I +thought of Bittridge so." + +"Mr. Breckon?" + +"Yes, the same lightness; the same sort of trifling-- Didn't you notice +it?" + +"No--yes, I noticed it. But I wasn't afraid for an instant. I saw that +he was good." + +"Oh!" + +"What I'm afraid of now is that Ellen doesn't care anything about him." + +"He isn't wicked enough?" + +"I don't say that. But it would be too much happiness to expect in one +short life." + +The judge could not deny the reasonableness of her position. He could +only oppose it. "Well, I don't think we've had any more than our share +of happiness lately." + +No one except Boyne could have made Trannel's behavior a cause of +quarrel, but the other Kentons made it a cause of coldness which was +quite as effective. In Lottie this took the form of something so active, +so positive, that it was something more than a mere absence of warmth. +Before she came clown to breakfast the next morning she studied a stare +in her mirror, and practised it upon Trannel so successfully when he came +up to speak to her that it must have made him doubt whether he had ever +had her acquaintance. In his doubt he ventured to address her, and then +Lottie turned her back upon him in a manner that was perfectly +convincing. He attempted a smiling ease with Mrs. Kenton and the judge, +but they shared neither his smile nor his ease, and his jocose questions +about the end of yesterday's adventures, which he had not been privy to, +did not seem to appeal to the American sense of humor in them. Ellen was +not with them, nor Boyne, but Trannel was not asked to take either of the +vacant places at the table, even when Breckon took one of them, after a +decent exchange of civilities with him. He could only saunter away and +leave Mrs. Kenton to a little pang. + +"Tchk!" she made. "I'm sorry for him!" + +"So am I," said the judge. "But he will get over it--only too soon, I'm +afraid. I don't believe he's very sorry for himself." + +They had not advised with Breckon, and he did not feel authorized to make +any comment. He seemed preoccupied, to Mrs. Kenton's eye, when she +turned it upon him from Trannel's discomfited back, lessening in the +perspective, and he answered vaguely to her overture about his night's +rest. Lottie never made any conversation with Breckon, and she now left +him to himself, with some remnants of the disapproval which she found on +her hands after crushing Trannel. It could not be said that Breckon was +aware of her disapproval, and the judge had no apparent consciousness of +it. He and Breckon tried to make something of each other, but failed, +and it all seemed a very defeating sequel to Mrs. Kenton after the +triumphal glow of the evening before. When Lottie rose, she went with +her, alleging her wish to see if Boyne had eaten his breakfast. She +confessed, to Breckon's kind inquiry, that Boyne did not seem very well, +and that she had made him take his breakfast in his room, and she did not +think it necessary to own, even to so friendly a witness as Mr. Breckon, +that Boyne was ashamed to come down, and dreaded meeting Trannel so much +that she was giving him time to recover his self-respect and courage. + +As soon as she and Lottie were gone Breckon began, rather more formidably +than he liked, but helplessly so: "Judge Kenton, I should be glad of a +few moments with you on--on an important--on a matter that is important +to me." + +"Well," said the judge, cautiously. Whatever was coming, he wished to +guard himself from the mistake that he had once so nearly fallen into, +and that still made him catch his breath to think of. "How can I be of +use to you?" + +"I don't know that you can be of any use--I don't know that I ought to +speak to you. But I thought you might perhaps save me from--save my +taking a false step." + +He looked at Kenton as if he would understand, and Kenton supposed that +he did. He said, "My daughter once mentioned your wish to talk with me." + +"Your daughter?" Breckon stared at him in stupefaction. + +"Yes; Ellen. She said you wished to consult me about going back to your +charge in New York, when we were on the ship together. But I don't know +that I'm very competent to give advice in such--" + +"Oh!" Breckon exclaimed, in a tone of immense relief, which did not +continue itself in what he went on to say. "That! I've quite made up my +mind to go back." He stopped, and then be burst out, "I want to speak +with you about her." The judge sat steady, still resolute not to give +himself away, and the young man scarcely recovered from what had been a +desperate plunge in adding: "I know that it's usual to speak with her-- +with the lady herself first, but--I don't know! The circumstances are +peculiar. You only know about me what you've seen of me, and I would +rather make my mistakes in the order that seems right to me, although it +isn't just the American way." + +He smiled rather piteously, and the judge said, rather encouragingly, +"I don't quite know whether I follow you." + +Breckon blushed, and sought help in what remained of his coffee. "The +way isn't easy for me. But it's this: I ask your leave to ask Miss Ellen +to marry me." The worst was over now, and looked as if it were a relief. +"She is the most beautiful person in the world to me, and the best; +but as you know so little of me, I thought it right to get your leave--to +tell you--to--to-- That is all." He fell back in his chair and looked a +at Kenton. + +"It is unusual," the judge began. + +"Yes, Yes; I know that. And for that reason I speak first to you. I'll +be ruled by you implicitly." + +"I don't mean that,"Kenton said. "I would have expected that you would +speak to her first. But I get your point of view, and I must say I think +you're right. I think you are behaving--honorably. I wish that every +one was like you. But I can't say anything now. I must talk with her +mother. My daughter's life has not been happy. I can't tell you. But +as far as I am concerned, and I think Mrs. Kenton, too, I would be glad +--We like you Mr. Breckon. We think you are a good man. + +"Oh, thank you. I'm not so sure--" + +"We'd risk it. But that isn't all. Will you excuse me if I don't say +anything more just yet--and if I leave you?" + +"Why, certainly." The judge had risen and pushed back his chair, and +Breckon did the same. "And I shall--hear from you?" + +"Why, certainly," said the judge in his turn. + +"It isn't possible that you put him off!" his wife reproached him, when +he told what had passed between him and Breckon. "Oh, you couldn't have +let him think that we didn't want him for her! Surely you didn't!" + +"Will you get it into your head," he flamed back, "that he hasn't spoken +to Ellen yet, and I couldn't accept him till she had?" + +"Oh yes. I forgot that." Mrs. Kenton struggled with the fact, in the +difficulty of realizing so strange an order of procedure. "I suppose +it's his being educated abroad that way. But, do go back to him, Rufus, +and tell him that of course--" + +"I will do nothing of the kind, Sarah! What are you thinking of?" + +"Oh, I don't know what I'm thinking of! I must see Ellen, I suppose. +I'll go to her now. Oh, dear, if she doesn't--if she lets such a chance +slip through her fingers-- But she's quite likely to, she's so obstinate! +I wonder what she'll want us to do." + +She fled to her daughter's room and found Boyne there, sitting beside his +sister's bed, giving her a detailed account of his adventure of the day +before, up to the moment Mr. Breckon met him, in charge of the +detectives. Up to that moment, it appeared to Boyne, as nearly as he +could recollect, that he had not broken down, but had behaved himself +with a dignity which was now beginning to clothe his whole experience. +In the retrospect, a quiet heroism characterized his conduct, and at the +moment his mother entered the room he was questioning Ellen as to her +impressions of his bearing when she first saw him in the grasp of the +detectives. + +His mother took him by the arm, and said, "I want to speak with Ellen, +Boyne," and put him out of the door. + +Then she came back and sat down in his chair. "Ellen. Mr. Breckon has +been speaking to your father. Do you know what about?" + +"About his going back to New York?" the girl suggested. + +Her mother kept her patience with difficulty. "No, not about that. +About you! He's asked your father--I can't understand yet why he did it, +only he's so delicate and honorable, and goodness known we appreciate it- +-whether he can tell you that--that--" It was not possible for such a +mother as Mrs. Kenton to say "He loves you"; it would have sounded as she +would have said, too sickish, and she compromised on: "He likes you, and +wants to ask you whether you will marry him. And, Ellen," she continued, +in the ample silence which followed, "if you don't say you will, I will +have nothing more to do With such a simpleton. I have always felt that +you behaved very foolishly about Mr. Bittridge, but I hoped that when you +grew older you would see it as we did, and--and behave differently. And +now, if, after all we've been through with you, you are going to say that +you won't have Mr. Breckon--" + +Mrs. Kenton stopped for want of a figure that would convey all the +disaster that would fall upon Ellen in such an event, and she was given +further pause when the girl gently answered, "I'm not going to say that, +momma." + +"Then what in the world are you going to say?" Mrs. Kenton demanded. + +Ellen had turned her face away on the pillow, and now she answered, +quietly, "When Mr. Breckon asks me I will tell him." + +"Well, you had better!" her mother threatened in return, and she did not +realize the falsity of her position till she reported Ellen's words to +the judge. + +Well, Sarah, I think she had you there," he said, and Mrs. Kenton then +said that she did not care, if the child was only going to behave +sensibly at last, and she did believe she was. + +"Then it's all right" said the judge, and he took up the Tuskingum +Intelligencer, lying till then unread in the excitements which had +followed its arrival the day before, and began to read it. + +Mrs. Kenton sat dreamily watching him, with her hands fallen in her lap. +She suddenly started up, with the cry, "Good gracious! What are we all +thinking of?" + +Kenton stared at her over the top of his paper. "How, thinking of?" + +"Why Mr. Breckon! He must be crazy to know what we've decided, poor +fellow!" + +"Oh," said the judge, folding the Intelligencer on his knee. "I had +forgotten. Somehow, I thought it was all settled." + +Mrs, Kenton took his paper from him, and finished folding it. "It hasn't +begun to be settled. You must go and let him know." + +"Won't he look me up?" the judge suggested. + +"You must look him up. Go at once dear! Think how anxious he must be!" + +Kenton was not sure that Breckon looked very anxious when he found him on +the brick promenade before the Kurhaus, apparently absorbed in noting the +convulsions of a large, round German lady in the water, who must have +supposed herself to be bathing. But perhaps the young man did not see +her; the smile on his face was too vague for such an interest when he +turned at Kenton's approaching steps. + +The judge hesitated for an instant, in which the smile left Breckon's +face. "I believe that's all right, Mr. Breckon," he said. "You'll find +Mrs. Kenton in our parlor," and then the two men parted, with an "Oh, +thank you!" from Breckon, who walked back towards the hotel, and left +Kenton to ponder upon the German lady; as soon as he realized that she +was not a barrel, the judge continued his walk along the promenade, +feeling rather ashamed. + +Mrs. Kenton had gone to Ellen's room again when she had got the judge off +upon his mission. She rather flung in upon her. "Oh, you are up!" she +apologized to Ellen's back. The girl's face was towards the glass, and +she was tilting her head to get the effect of the hat on it, which she +now took off. + +"I suppose poppa's gone to tell him," she said, sitting tremulously down. + +"Didn't you want him to?" her mother asked, stricken a little at sight +of her agitation. + +"Yes, I wanted him to, but that doesn't make it any easier. It makes it +harder. Momma!" + +"Well, Ellen?" + +"You know you've got to tell him, first." + +"Tell him?" Mrs. Kenton repeated, but she knew what Ellen meant. + +"About--Mr. Bittridge. All about it. Every single thing. About his +kissing me that night." + +At the last demand Mrs. Kenton was visibly shaken in her invisible assent +to the girl's wish. "Don't you think, Ellen, that you had better tell +him that--some time?" + +"No, now. And you must tell him. You let me go to the theatre with +him." The faintest shadow of resentment clouded the girl's face, but +still Mrs. Kenton, thought she knew her own guilt, could not yield. + +"Why, Ellen," she pleaded, not without a reproachful sense of vulgarity +in such a plea, "don't you suppose HE ever--kissed any one?" + +"That doesn't concern me, momma," said Ellen, without a trace of +consciousness that she was saying anything uncommon. "If you won't tell +him, then that ends it. I won't see him." + +"Oh, well!" her mother sighed. "I will try to tell him. But I'd rather +be whipped. I know he'll laugh at me." + +"He won't laugh at you," said the girl, confidently, almost comfortingly. +"I want him to know everything before I meet him. I don't want to have a +single thing on my mind. I don't want to think of myself!" + +Mrs. Kenton understood the woman--soul that spoke in these words. +"Well," she said, with a deep, long breath, "be ready, then." + +But she felt the burden which had been put upon her to be so much more +than she could bear that when she found her husband in their parlor she +instantly resolved to cast it upon him. He stood at the window with his +hat on. + +"Has Breckon been here yet?" he asked. + +"Have you seen him yet?" she returned. + +"Yes, and I thought he was coming right here. But perhaps he stopped to +screw his courage up. He only knew how little it needed with us!" + +"Well, now, it's we who've got to have the courage. Or you have. Do you +know what Ellen wants to have done?" Mrs. Kenton put it in these +impersonal terms, and as a preliminary to shirking her share of the +burden. + +"She doesn't want to have him refused?" + +"She wants to have him told all about Bittridge." + +After a momentary revolt the judge said, "Well, that's right. It's like +Ellen." + +"There's something else that's more like her," said Mrs. Kenton, +indignantly. "She wants him to told about what Bittridge did that night +--about him kissing her." + +The judge looked disgusted with his wife for the word; then he looked +aghast. "About--" + +"Yes, and she won't have a word to say to him till he is told, and unless +he is told she will refuse him." + +"Did she say that?" + +"No, but I know she will." + +"If she didn't say she would, I think we may take the chances that she +won't." + +"No, we mustn't take any such chances. You must tell him." + +"I? No, I couldn't manage it. I have no tact, and it would sound so +confoundedly queer, coming from one man to another. It would be-- +indelicate. It's something that nobody but a woman-- Why doesn't she +tell him herself?" + +"She won't. She considers it our part, and something we ought to do +before he commits himself." + +"Very well, then, Sarah, you must tell him. You can manage it so it +won't by so--queer. + +"That is just what I supposed you would say, Mr. Kenton, but I must say I +didn't expect it of you. I think it's cowardly." + +"Look out, Sarah! I don't like that word." + +"Oh, I suppose you're brave enough when it comes to any kind of danger. +But when it comes to taking the brunt of anything unpleasant--" + +"It isn't unpleasant--it's queer." + +"Why do you keep saying that over and over? There's nothing queer about +it. It's Ellenish but isn't it right?" + +"It's right, yes, I suppose. But it's squeamish." + +"I see nothing squeamish about it. But I know you're determined to leave +it to me, and so I shall do it. I don't believe Mr. Breckon will think +it's queer or squeamish." + +"I've no doubt he'll take it in the right way; you'll know how to--" +Kenton looked into his hat, which he had taken off and then put it on +again. His tone and his manner were sufficiently sneaking, and he could +not make them otherwise. It was for this reason, no doubt, that he would +not prolong the interview. + +"Oh yes, go!" said Mrs. Kenton, as he found himself with his hand on the +door. "Leave it all to me, do!" and he was aware of skulking out of the +room. By the time that it would have taken him so long as to walk to the +top of the grand stairway he was back again. "He's coming!" he said, +breathlessly. "I saw him at the bottom of the stairs. Go into your room +and wash your eyes. I'LL tell him." + +"No, no, Rufus! Let me! It will be much better. You'll be sure to +bungle it." + +"We must risk that. You were quite right, Sarah. It would have been +cowardly in me to let you do it." + +"Rufus! You know I didn't mean it! Surely you're not resenting that?" + +"No. I'm glad you made me see it. You're all right, Sarah, and you'll +find that it will all come out all right. You needn't be afraid I'll +bungle it. I shall use discretion. Go--" + +"I shall not stir a step from this parlor! You've got back all your +spirit, dear," said the old wife, with young pride in her husband. +"But I must say that Ellen is putting more upon you than she has any +right to. I think she might tell him herself." + +"No, it's our business--my business. We allowed her to get in for it. +She's quite right about it. We must not let him commit himself to her +till he knows the thing that most puts her to shame. It isn't enough for +us to say that it was really no shame. She feels that it casts a sort of +stain--you know what I mean, Sarah, and I believe I can make this young +man know. If I can't, so much the worse for him. He shall never see +Ellen again." + +"Oh, Rufus!" + +"Do you think he would be worthy of her if he couldn't?" + +"I think Ellen is perfectly ridiculous." + +"Then that shows that I am right in deciding not to leave this thing to +you. I feel as she does about it, and I intend that he shall." + +"Do you intend to let her run the chance of losing him?" + +"That is what I intend to do." + +"Well, then, I'll tell you what: I am going to stay right here. We will +both see him; it's right for us to do it." But at a rap on the parlor +door Mrs. Kenton flew to that of her own room, which she closed upon her +with a sort of Parthian whimper, "Oh, do be careful, Rufus!" + +Whether Kenton was careful or not could never be known, from either +Kenton himself or from Breckon. The judge did tell him everything, and +the young man received the most damning details of Ellen's history with a +radiant absence which testified that they fell upon a surface sense of +Kenton, and did not penetrate to the all-pervading sense of Ellen herself +below. At the end Kenton was afraid he had not understood. + +"You understand," he said, "that she could not consent to see you before +you knew just how weak she thought she had been." The judge stiffened to +defiance in making this humiliation. "I don't consider, myself, that she +was weak at all." + +"Of course not!" Breckon beamed back at him. + +"I consider that throughout she acted with the greatest--greatest-- And +that in that affair, when he behaved with that--that outrageous +impudence, it was because she had misled the scoundrel by her kindness, +her forbearance, her wish not to do him the least shadow of injustice, +but to give him every chance of proving himself worthy of her tolerance; +and--" + +The judge choked, and Breckon eagerly asked, "And shall I--may I see her +now?" + +"Why--yes," the judge faltered. "If you're sure--" + +"What about?" Breckon demanded. + +"I don't know whether she will believe that I have told you." + +"I will try to convince her. Where shall I see her?" + +"I will go and tell her you are here. I will bring her--" + +Kenton passed into the adjoining room, where his wife laid hold of him, +almost violently. "You did it beautifully, Rufus," she huskily +whispered, "and I was so afraid you would spoil everything. Oh, how +manly you were, and how perfect he was! But now it's my turn, and I will +go and bring Ellen-- You will let me, won't you?" + +"You may do anything you please, Sarah. I don't want to have any more of +this," said the judge from the chair he had dropped into. + +"Well, then, I will bring her at once," said Mrs. Kenton, staying only in +her gladness to kiss him on his gray head; he received her embrace with a +superficial sultriness which did not deceive her. + +Ellen came back without her mother, and as soon as she entered the room, +and Breckon realized that she had come alone, he ran towards her as if to +take her in his arms. But she put up her hand with extended fingers, and +held him lightly off. + +"Did poppa tell you?" she asked, with a certain defiance. She held her +head up fiercely, and spoke steadily, but he could see the pulse beating +in her pretty neck. + +"Yes, he told me--" + +"And--well?" + +"Oh, I love you, Ellen--" + +"That isn't it. Did you care?" + +Breckon had an inspiration, an inspiration from the truth that dwelt at +the bottom of his soul and had never yet failed to save him. He let his +arms fall and answered, desperately: "Yes, I did. I wished it hadn't +happened." He saw the pulse in her neck cease to beat, and he swiftly +added, "But I know that it happened just because you were yourself, and +were so--" + +"If you had said you didn't care," she breathlessly whispered, "I would +never have spoken to you. He felt a conditional tremor creeping into the +fingers which had been so rigid against his breast. "I don't see how I +lived through it! Do you think you can?" + +"I think so," he returned, with a faint, far suggestion of levity that +brought from her an imperative, imploring-- + +"Don't!" + +Then he added, solemnly, "It had no more to do with you, Ellen, than an +offence from some hateful animal--" + +"Oh, how good you are!" The fingers folded themselves, and her arms +weakened so that there was nothing to keep him from drawing her to him. +"What--what are you doing?" she asked, with her face smothered against +his. + +"Oh, Ell-en, Ellen, Ellen! Oh, my love, my dearest, my best!" + +"But I have been such a fool!" she protested, imagining that she was +going to push him from her, but losing herself in him more and more. + +"Yes, yes, darling! I know it. That's why I love you so!" + + + + +XXVI. + +"There is just one thing," said the judge, as he wound up his watch that +night, "that makes me a little uneasy still." + +Mrs. Kenton, already in her bed turned her face upon him with a +despairing "Tchk! Dear! What is it? I thought we had talked over +everything," + +"We haven't got Lottie's consent yet." + +"Well, I think I see myself asking Lottie!" Mrs. Kenton began, before +she realized her husband's irony. She added, "How could you give me such +a start?" + +"Well, Lottie has bossed us so long that I couldn't help mentioning it," +said the judge. + +It was a lame excuse, and in its most potential implication his +suggestion proved without reason. If Lottie never gave her explicit +approval to Ellen's engagement, she never openly opposed it. She treated +it, rather, with something like silent contempt, as a childish weakness +on Ellen's part which was beneath her serious consideration. Towards +Breckon, her behavior hardly changed in the severity which she had +assumed from the moment she first ceased to have any use for him. +"I suppose I will have to kiss him," she said, gloomily, when her mother +told her that he was to be her brother, and she performed the rite with +as much coldness as was ever put in that form of affectionate welcome. +It is doubtful if Breckon perfectly realized its coldness; he never knew +how much he enraged her by acting as if she were a little girl, and +saying lightly, almost trivially, "I'm so glad you're going to be a +sister to me." + +With Ellen, Lottie now considered herself quits, and from the first hour +of Ellen's happiness she threw off all the care with all the apparent +kindness which she had used towards her when she was a morbid invalid. +Here again, if Lottie had minded such a thing, she might have been as +much vexed by Ellen's attitude as by Breckon's. Ellen never once noticed +the withdrawal of her anxious oversight, or seemed in the least to miss +it. As much as her meek nature would allow, she arrogated to herself the +privileges and prerogatives of an elder sister, and if it had been +possible to make Lottie ever feel like a chit, there were moments when +Ellen's behavior would have made her feel like a chit. It was not till +after their return to Tuskingum that Lottie took her true place in +relation to the affair, and in the preparations for the wedding, which +she appointed to be in the First Universalist Church, overruling both her +mother's and sister's preferences for a home wedding, that Lottie rose in +due authority. Mrs. Kenton had not ceased to feel quelled whenever her +younger daughter called her mother instead of momma, and Ellen seemed not +really to care. She submitted the matter to Breckon, who said, "Oh yes, +if Lottie wishes," and he laughed when Ellen confessed, "Well, I said +we would." + +With the lifting of his great anxiety, he had got back to that lightness +which was most like him, and he could not always conceal from Lottie +herself that he regarded her as a joke. She did not mind it, she said, +from such a mere sop as, in the vast content of his love, he was. + +This was some months after Lottie had got at Scheveningen from Mr. +Plumpton that letter which decided her that she had no use for him. +There came the same day, and by the same post with it, a letter from one +of her young men in Tuskingum, who had faithfully written to her all the +winter before, and had not intermitted his letters after she went abroad. +To Kenton he had always seemed too wise if not too good for Lottie, but +Mrs. Kenton, who had her own doubts of Lottie, would not allow this when +it came to the question, and said, woundedly, that she did not see why +Lottie was not fully his equal in every way. + +"Well," the judge suggested, "she isn't the first young lawyer at the +Tuskingum bar." + +"Well, I wouldn't wish her to be," said Mrs. Kenton, who did not often +make jokes. + +"Well, I don't know that I would," her husband assented, and he added, +"Pretty good, Sarah." + +"Lottie," her mother summed up, "is practical, and she is very neat. She +won't let Mr. Elroy go around looking so slovenly. I hope she will make +him have his hair cut, and not look as if it were bitten off. And I +don't believe he's had his boots blacked since--" + +"He was born," the judge proposed, and she assented. + +"Yes. She is very saving, and he is wasteful. It will be a very good +match. You can let them build on the other corner of the lot, if Ellen +is going to be in New York. I would miss Lottie more than Ellen about +the housekeeping, though the dear knows I will miss them both badly +enough." + +"Well, you can break off their engagements," said the judge. + +As yet, and until Ellen was off her hands, Lottie would not allow Mr. +Elroy to consider himself engaged to her. His conditional devotion did +not debar him from a lover's rights, and, until Breckon came on from New +York to be married, there was much more courtship of Lottie than of Ellen +in the house. But Lottie saved herself in the form if not the fact, and +as far as verbal terms were concerned, she was justified by them in +declaring that she would not have another sop hanging round. + +It was Boyne, and Boyne alone, who had any misgivings in regard to +Ellen's engagement, and these were of a nature so recondite that when he +came to impart them to his mother, before they left Scheveningen, and +while there was yet time for that conclusion which his father suggested +to Mrs. Kenton too late, Boyne had an almost hopeless difficulty in +stating them. His approaches, even, were so mystical that his mother was +forced to bring him to book sharply. + +"Boyne, if you don't tell me right off just what you mean, I don't know +what I will do to you! What are you driving at, for pity's sake? Are +you saying that she oughtn't to be engaged to Mr. Breckon?" + +"No, I'm not saying that, momma," said Boyne, in a distress that caused +his mother to take a reef in her impatience. + +"Well, what are you saying, then?" + +"Why, you know how Ellen is, momma. You know how conscientious and--and +--sensitive. Or, I don't mean sensitive, exactly." + +"Well?" + +"Well, I don't think she ought to be engaged to Mr. Breckon out of-- +gratitude." + +"Gratitude?" + +"Yes. I just know that she thinks--or it would be just like her--that he +saved me that day. But he only met me about a second before we came to + +her and poppa, and the officers were taking me right along towards them." +Mrs. Kenton held herself stormily in, and he continued: "I know that he +translated for us before the magistrate, but the magistrate could speak a +little English, and when he saw poppa he saw that it was all right, +anyway. I don't want to say anything against Mr. Breckon, and I think he +behaved as well any one could; but if Ellen is going to marry him out of +gratitude for saving me--" + +Mrs. Kenton could hold in no longer. "And is this what you've been +bothering the life half out of me for, for the last hour?" + +"Well, I thought you ought to look at it in that light, momma." + +"Well, Boyne," said his mother, "sometimes I think you're almost a fool!" +and she turned her back upon her son and left him. + +Boyne's place in the Kenton family, for which he continued to have the +highest regard, became a little less difficult, a little less +incompatible with his self-respect as time went on. His spirit, which +had lagged a little after his body in stature, began, as his father said, +to catch up. He no longer nourished it so exclusively upon heroical +romance as he had during the past year, and after his return to Tuskingum +he went into his brother Richard's once, and manifested a certain +curiosity in the study of the law. He read Blackstone, and could give a +fair account of his impressions of English law to his father. He had +quite outlived the period of entomological research, and he presented his +collections of insects (somewhat moth-eaten) to his nephew, on whom he +also bestowed his postage-stamp album; Mary Kenton accepted them in +trust, the nephew being of yet too tender years for their care. In the +preoccupations of his immediate family with Ellen's engagement, Boyne +became rather close friends with his sister-in-law, and there were times +when he was tempted to submit to her judgment the question whether the +young Queen of Holland did not really beckon to him that day. But +pending the hour when he foresaw that Lottie should come out with the +whole story, in some instant of excitement, Boyne had not quite the heart +to speak of his experience. It assumed more and more respectability with +him, and lost that squalor which had once put him to shame while it was +yet new. He thought that Mary might be reasoned into regarding him as +the hero of an adventure, but he is still hesitating whether to confide +in her. In the meantime she knows all about it. Mary and Richard both +approved of Ellen's choice, though they are somewhat puzzled to make out +just what Mr. Breckon's religion is, and what his relations to his charge +in New York may be. These do not seem to them quite pastoral, and he +himself shares their uncertainty. But since his flock does not include +Mrs. Rasmith and her daughter, he is content to let the question remain +in abeyance. The Rasmiths are settled in Rome with an apparent +permanency which they have not known elsewhere for a long time, and they +have both joined in the friendliest kind of letter on his marriage to +their former pastor, if that was what Breckon was. They have professed +to know from the first that he was in love with Ellen, and that he is in +love with her now is the strong present belief of his flock, if they are +a flock, and if they may be said to have anything so positive as a belief +in regard to anything. + +Judge Kenton has given the Elroys the other corner of the lot, and has +supplied them the means of building on it. Mary and Lottie run +diagonally into the home-house every day, and nothing keeps either from +coming into authority over the old people except the fear of each other +in which they stand. The Kentons no longer make any summer journeys, +but in the winter they take Boyne and go to see Ellen in New York. They +do not stay so long as Mrs. Kenton would like. As soon as they have +fairly seen the Breckons, and have settled comfortably down in their +pleasant house on West Seventy-fourth Street, she detects him in a secret +habit of sighing, which she recognizes as the worst symptom of +homesickness, and then she confides to Ellen that she supposes Mr. Kenton +will make her go home with him before long. Ellen knows it is useless to +interfere. She even encourages her father's longings, so far as +indulging his clandestine visits to the seedsman's, and she goes with him +to pick up second-hand books about Ohio in the War at the dealers', who +remember the judge very flatteringly. + +As February draws on towards March it becomes impossible to detain +Kenton. His wife and son return with him to Tuskingum, where Lottie has +seen to the kindling of a good fire in the furnace against their arrival, +and has nearly come to blows with Mary about provisioning them for the +first dinner. Then Mrs. Kenton owns, with a comfort which she will not +let her husband see, that there is no place like home, and they take up +their life in the place where they have been so happy and so unhappy. He +reads to her a good deal at night, and they play a game of checkers +usually before they go to bed; she still cheats without scruple, for, as +she justly says, he knows very well that she cannot bear to be beaten. + +The colonel, as he is still invariably known to his veterans, works +pretty faithfully at the regimental autobiography, and drives round the +country, picking up material among them, in a buggy plastered with mud. +He has imagined, since his last visit to Breckon, who dictates his +sermons, if they are sermons, taking a stenographer with him, and the +young lady, who is in deadly terror of the colonel's driving, is of the +greatest use to him, in the case of veterans who will not or cannot give +down (as they say in their dairy-country parlance), and has already +rescued many reminiscences from perishing in their faltering memories. +She writes them out in the judge's library when the colonel gets home, +and his wife sometimes surprises Mr. Kenton correcting them there at +night after she supposes he has gone to bed. + +Since it has all turned out for the best concerning Bittridge, she no +longer has those pangs of self-reproach for Richard's treatment of him +which she suffered while afraid that if the fact came to Ellen's +knowledge it might make her refuse Breckon. She does not find her +daughter's behavior in the matter so anomalous as it appears to the +judge. + +He is willing to account for it on the ground of that inconsistency which +he has observed in all human behavior, but Mrs. Kenton is not inclined to +admit that it is so very inconsistent. She contends that Ellen had +simply lived through that hateful episode of her psychological history, +as she was sure to do sooner or later and as she was destined to do as +soon as some other person arrived to take her fancy. + +If this is the crude, common-sense view of the matter, Ellen herself is +able to offer no finer explanation, which shall at the same time be more +thorough. She and her husband have not failed to talk the affair over, +with that fulness of treatment which young married people give their past +when they have nothing to conceal from each other. She has attempted to +solve the mystery by blaming herself for a certain essential levity of +nature which, under all her appearance of gravity, sympathized with +levity in others, and, for what she knows to the contrary, with something +ignoble and unworthy in them. Breckon, of course, does not admit this, +but he has suggested that she was first attracted to him by a certain +unseriousness which reminded her of Bittridge, in enabling him to take +her seriousness lightly. This is the logical inference which he makes +from her theory of herself, but she insists that it does not follow; and +she contends that she was moved to love him by an instant sense of his +goodness, which she never lost, and in which she was trying to equal +herself with him by even the desperate measure of renouncing her +happiness, if that should ever seem her duty, to his perfection. He says +this is not very clear, though it is awfully gratifying, and he does not +quite understand why Mrs. Bittridge's letter should have liberated Ellen +from her fancied obligations to the past. Ellen can only say that it did +so by making her so ashamed ever to have had anything to do with such +people, and making her see how much she had tried her father and mother +by her folly. This again Breckon contends is not clear, but he says we +live in a universe of problems in which another, more or less, does not +much matter. He is always expecting that some chance shall confront him +with Bittridge, and that the man's presence will explain everything; for, +like so many Ohio people who leave their native State, the Bittridges +have come East instead of going West, in quitting the neighborhood of +Tuskingum. He is settled with his idolized mother in New York, where he +is obscurely attached to one of the newspapers. That he has as yet +failed to rise from the ranks in the great army of assignment men may be +because moral quality tells everywhere, and to be a clever blackguard is +not so well as to be simply clever. If ever Breckon has met his alter +ego, as he amuses himself in calling him, he has not known it, though +Bittridge may have been wiser in the case of a man of Breckon's +publicity, not to call it distinction. There was a time, immediately +after the Breckons heard from Tuskingum that the Bittridges were in New +York, when Ellen's husband consulted her as to what might be his duty +towards her late suitor in the event which has not taken place, and when +he suggested, not too seriously, that Richard's course might be the +solution. To his suggestion Ellen answered: "Oh no, dear! That was +wrong," and this remains also Richard's opinion. + + + + + + +ETEXT EDITOR'S BOOKMARKS: + + +A nature which all modesty and deference seemed left out of. . . . . . . +All but took the adieus out of Richard's hands . . . . . . . . . . . . . +Americans spoil their women." "Well, their women are worth it." . . . . +An inscrutable frown goes far in such exigencies . . . . . . . . . . . . +Another problem, more or less, does not much matter. . . . . . . . . . . +Certain comfort in their mutual discouragement . . . . . . . . . . . . . +Conscience to own the fact and the kindness to deny it . . . . . . . . . +Fatuity of a man in such things. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . +Fatuity of age regarding all the things of the past. . . . . . . . . . . +Fertile in difficulties and so importunate for their solution. . . . . . +Girl is never so much in danger of having her heart broken . . . . . . . +Good comrades, as elderly married people are apt to be.. . . . . . . . . +He was too little used to deference from ladies. . . . . . . . . . . . . +Impart their sufferings as well as their pleasures to each other . . . . +Know more of their clothes than the people they buy them of. . . . . . . +Learning to ask her no questions about herself . . . . . . . . . . . . . +Left him alone to the first ecstasy of his homesickness. . . . . . . . . +Living in the present. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . +Melting into pity against all sense of duty. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . +Misgiving of a blessed immortality . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . +More faith in her wisdom than she had herself. . . . . . . . . . . . . . +More helpful with trouble to be ignorant of its cause. . . . . . . . . . +Not find more harm in them, if you did not bring it with you . . . . . . +Not what their mothers but what their environments made them . . . . . . +Pain of the preparations for a day's pleasure. . . . . . . . . . . . . . +Part of her pride not to ask . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . +Performance of their common duty must fall wholly to her . . . . . . . . +Petted person in her youth, perhaps, and now she petted herself. . . . . +Place where they have been so happy and so unhappy . . . . . . . . . . . +Provoked that her mother would not provoke her further . . . . . . . . . +Question whether the fellow was more a fool or a fraud . . . . . . . . . +Relationship when one gives a reproof and the other accepts it . . . . . +Relieved from a discoverer's duties to Europe. . . . . . . . . . . . . . +Renunciation of his judgment in deference to the good woman. . . . . . . +Waiting with patience for the term of his exile. . . . . . . . . . . . . +We have to make-believe before we can believe anything . . . . . . . . . +When he got so far beyond his depth. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . +Why, at his age, should he be going into exile . . . . . . . . . . . . . +Wife was glad of the release from housekeeping . . . . . . . . . . . . . +Worst whim was having no wish that could be ascertained. . . . . . . . . + + + + + +End of this Project Gutenberg Etext of The Kentons, +by William Dean Howells + diff --git a/old/whken10.zip b/old/whken10.zip Binary files differnew file mode 100644 index 0000000..5be3cb9 --- /dev/null +++ b/old/whken10.zip diff --git a/old/whken11.txt b/old/whken11.txt new file mode 100644 index 0000000..33807a5 --- /dev/null +++ b/old/whken11.txt @@ -0,0 +1,8859 @@ +The Project Gutenberg Etext of The Kentons, by W. 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As their circumstances had grown +easier, they had mellowed more and more in the keeping of their +comfortable home, until they hated to leave it even for the short +outings, which their children made them take, to Niagara or the Upper +Lakes in the hot weather. They believed that they could not be so well +anywhere as in the great square brick house which still kept its four +acres about it, in the heart of the growing town, where the trees they +had planted with their own hands topped it on three aides, and a spacious +garden opened southward behind it to the summer wind. Kenton had his +library, where he transacted by day such law business as he had retained +in his own hands; but at night he liked to go to his wife's room and sit +with her there. They left the parlors and piazzas to their girls, where +they could hear them laughing with the young fellows who came to make the +morning calls, long since disused in the centres of fashion, or the +evening calls, scarcely more authorized by the great world. She sewed, +and he read his paper in her satisfactory silence, or they played +checkers together. She did not like him to win, and when she found +herself unable to bear the prospect of defeat, she refused to let him +make the move that threatened the safety of her men. Sometimes he +laughed at her, and sometimes he scolded, but they were very good +comrades, as elderly married people are apt to be. They had long ago +quarrelled out their serious differences, which mostly arose from such +differences of temperament as had first drawn them together; they +criticised each other to their children from time to time, but they +atoned for this defection by complaining of the children to each other, +and they united in giving way to them on all points concerning their +happiness, not to say their pleasure. + +They had both been teachers in their youth before he went into the war, +and they had not married until he had settled himself in the practice of +the law after he left the army. He was then a man of thirty, and five +years older than she; five children were born to them, but the second son +died when he was yet a babe in his mother's arms, and there was an +interval of six years between the first boy and the first girl. Their +eldest son was already married, and settled next them in a house which +was brick, like their own, but not square, and had grounds so much less +ample that he got most of his vegetables from their garden. He had grown +naturally into a share of his father's law practice, and he had taken it +all over when Renton was elected to the bench. He made a show of giving +it back after the judge retired, but by that time Kenton was well on in +the fifties. The practice itself had changed, and had become mainly the +legal business of a large corporation. In this form it was distasteful +to him; he kept the affairs of some of his old clients in his hands, but +he gave much of his time, which he saved his self-respect by calling his +leisure, to a history of his regiment in-the war. + +In his later life he had reverted to many of the preoccupations of his +youth, and he believed that Tuskingum enjoyed the best climate, on the +whole, in the union; that its people of mingled Virginian, Pennsylvanian, +and Connecticut origin, with little recent admixture of foreign strains, +were of the purest American stock, and spoke the best English in the +world; they enjoyed obviously the greatest sum of happiness, and had +incontestibly the lowest death rate and divorce rate in the State. The +growth of the place was normal and healthy; it had increased only to five +thousand during the time he had known it, which was almost an ideal +figure for a county-town. There was a higher average of intelligence +than in any other place of its size, and a wider and evener diffusion of +prosperity. Its record in the civil war was less brilliant, perhaps, +than that of some other localities, but it was fully up to the general +Ohio level, which was the high-water mark of the national achievement in +the greatest war of the greatest people under the sun. It, was Kenton's +pride and glory that he had been a part of the finest army known in +history. He believed that the men who made history ought to write it, +and in his first Commemoration-Day oration he urged his companions in +arms to set down everything they could remember of their soldiering, and +to save the letters they had written home, so that they might each +contribute to a collective autobiography of the regiment. It was only in +this way, he held, that the intensely personal character of the struggle +could be recorded. He had felt his way to the fact that every battle is +essentially episodical, very campaign a sum of fortuities; and it was not +strange that he should suppose, with his want of perspective, that this +universal fact was purely national and American. His zeal made him the +repository of a vast mass of material which he could not have refused to +keep for the soldiers who brought it to him, more or less in a humorous +indulgence of his whim. But he even offered to receive it, and in a +community where everything took the complexion of a joke, he came to be +affectionately regarded as a crank on that point; the shabbily aging +veterans, whom he pursued to their workbenches and cornfields, for, the +documents of the regimental history, liked to ask the colonel if he had +brought his gun. They, always give him the title with which he had been +breveted at the close of the war; but he was known to the, younger, +generation of his fellow-citizens as the judge. His wife called him Mr. +Kenton in the presence of strangers, and sometimes to himself, but to his +children she called him Poppa, as they did. + +The steady-going eldest son, who had succeeded to his father's affairs +without giving him the sense of dispossession, loyally accepted the +popular belief that he would never be the man his father was. He joined +with his mother in a respect for Kenton's theory of the regimental +history which was none the less sincere because it was unconsciously a +little sceptical of the outcome; and the eldest daughter was of their +party. The youngest said frankly that she had no use for any history, +but she said the same of nearly everything which had not directly or +indirectly to do with dancing. In this regulation she had use for +parties and picnics, for buggy-rides and sleigh-rides, for calls from +young men and visits to and from other girls, for concerts, for plays, +for circuses and church sociables, for everything but lectures; and she +devoted herself to her pleasures without the shadow of chaperonage, which +was, indeed, a thing still unheard of in Tuskingum. + +In the expansion which no one else ventured, or, perhaps, wished to set +bounds to, she came under the criticism of her younger brother, who, upon +the rare occasions when he deigned to mingle in the family affairs, drew +their mother's notice to his sister's excesses in carrying-on, and +required some action that should keep her from bringing the name, of +Kenton to disgrace. From being himself a boy of very slovenly and +lawless life he had suddenly, at the age of fourteen, caught himself up +from the street, reformed his dress and conduct, and confined himself in +his large room at the top of the house, where, on the pursuits to which +he gave his spare time, the friends who frequented his society, and the +literature which nourished his darkling spirit, might fitly have been +written Mystery. The sister whom he reprobated was only two years his +elder, but since that difference in a girl accounts for a great deal, it +apparently authorized her to take him more lightly than he was able to +take himself. She said that he was in love, and she achieved an +importance with him through his speechless rage and scorn which none of +the rest of his family enjoyed. With his father and mother he had a +bearing of repressed superiority which a strenuous conscience kept from +unmasking itself in open contempt when they failed to make his sister +promise to behave herself. Sometimes he had lapses from his dignified +gloom with his mother, when, for no reason that could be given, he fell +from his habitual majesty to the tender dependence of a little boy, just +as his voice broke from its nascent base to its earlier treble at moments +when he least expected or wished such a thing to happen. His stately but +vague ideal of himself was supported by a stature beyond his years, but +this rendered it the more difficult for him to bear the humiliation of +his sudden collapses, and made him at other times the easier prey of +Lottie's ridicule. He got on best, or at least most evenly, with his +eldest sister. She took him seriously, perhaps because she took all life +so; and she was able to interpret him to his father when his intolerable +dignity forbade a common understanding between them. When he got so far +beyond his depth that he did not know what he meant himself, as sometimes +happened, she gently found him a safe footing nearer shore. + +Kenton's theory was that he did not distinguish among his children. +He said that he did not suppose they were the best children in the world, +but they suited him; and he would not have known how to change them for +the better. He saw no harm in the behavior of Lottie when it most +shocked her brother; he liked her to have a good time; but it flattered +his nerves to have Ellen about him. Lottie was a great deal more +accomplished, he allowed that; she could play and sing, and she had +social gifts far beyond her sister; but he easily proved to his wife that +Nelly knew ten times as much. + +Nelly read a great deal; she kept up with all the magazines, and knew all +the books in his library. He believed that she was a fine German +scholar, and in fact she had taken up that language after leaving school, +when, if she had been better advised than she could have been in +Tuskingum, she would have kept on with her French. She started the first +book club in the place; and she helped her father do the intellectual +honors of the house to the Eastern lecturers, who always stayed with the +judge when they came to Tuskingum. She was faithfully present at the +moments, which her sister shunned in derision, when her father explained +to them respectively his theory of regimental history, and would just, +as he said, show them a few of the documents he had collected. He made +Ellen show them; she knew where to put her hand on the most +characteristic and illustrative; and Lottie offered to bet what one dared +that Ellen would marry some of those lecturers yet; she was literary +enough. + +She boasted that she was not literary herself, and had no use for any one +who was; and it could not have been her culture that drew the most +cultivated young man in Tuskingum to her. Ellen was really more +beautiful; Lottie was merely very pretty; but she had charm for them, and +Ellen, who had their honor and friendship, had no charm for them. No one +seemed drawn to her as they were drawn to her sister till a man came who +was not one of the most cultivated in Tuskingum; and then it was doubtful +whether she was not first drawn to him. She was too transparent to hide +her feeling from her father and mother, who saw with even more grief than +shame that she could not hide it from the man himself, whom they thought +so unworthy of it. + +He had suddenly arrived in Tuskingum from one of the villages of the +county, where he had been teaching school, and had found something to do +as reporter on the Tuskingum 'Intelligencer', which he was instinctively +characterizing with the spirit of the new journalism, and was pushing as +hardily forward on the lines of personality as if he had dropped down to +it from the height of a New York or Chicago Sunday edition. The judge +said, with something less than his habitual honesty, that he did not mind +his being a reporter, but he minded his being light and shallow; he +minded his being flippant and mocking; he minded his bringing his +cigarettes and banjo into the house at his second visit. He did not mind +his push; the fellow had his way to make and he had to push; but he did +mind his being all push; and his having come out of the country with as +little simplicity as if he had passed his whole life in the city. He had +no modesty, and he had no reverence; he had no reverence for Ellen +herself, and the poor girl seemed to like him for that. + +He was all the more offensive to the judge because he was himself to +blame for their acquaintance, which began when one day the fellow had +called after him in the street, and then followed down the shady sidewalk +beside him to his hour, wanting to know what this was he had heard about +his history, and pleading for more light upon his plan in it. At the +gate he made a flourish of opening and shutting it for the judge, and +walking up the path to his door he kept his hand on the judge's shoulder +most offensively; but in spite of this Kenton had the weakness to ask him +in, and to call Ellen to get him the most illustrative documents of the +history. + +The interview that resulted in the 'Intelligencer' was the least evil +that came of this error. Kenton was amazed, and then consoled, and then +afflicted that Ellen was not disgusted with it; and in his conferences +with his wife he fumed and fretted at his own culpable folly, and tried +to get back of the time he had committed it, in that illusion which +people have with trouble that it could somehow be got rid of if it could +fairly be got back of; till the time came when his wife could no longer +share his unrest in this futile endeavor. + +She said, one night when they had talked late and long, "That can't be +helped now; and the question is what are we going to do to stop it." + +The judge evaded the point in saying, "The devil of it is that all the +nice fellows are afraid of her; they respect her too much, and the very +thing which ought to disgust her with this chap is what gives him his +power over her. I don't know what we are going to do, but we must break +it off, somehow." + +"We might take her with us somewhere," Mrs. Kenton suggested. + +"Run away from the fellow? I think I see myself! No, we have got to +stay and face the thing right here. But I won't have him about the house +any more, understand that. He's not to be let in, and Ellen mustn't see +him; you tell her I said so. Or no! I will speak to her myself." His +wife said that he was welcome to do that; but he did not quite do it. He +certainly spoke to his daughter about her, lover, and he satisfied +himself that there was yet nothing explicit between them. But she was so +much less frank and open with him than she had always been before that he +was wounded as well as baffled by her reserve. He could not get her to +own that she really cared for the fellow; but man as he was, and old man +as he was, he could not help perceiving that she lived in a fond dream of +him. + +He went from her to her mother. "If he was only one-half the man she +thinks he is!"--he ended his report in a hopeless sigh. + +"You want to give in to her!" his wife pitilessly interpreted. "Well, +perhaps that would be the best thing, after all." + +"No, no, it wouldn't, Sarah; it would be the easiest for both of us, I +admit, but it would be the worst thing for her. We've got to let it run +along for a while yet. If we give him rope enough he may hang himself; +there's that chance. We can't go away, and we can't shut her up, and we +can't turn him out of the house. We must trust her to find him out for +herself." + +"She'll never do that," said the mother. "Lottie says Ellen thinks he's +just perfect. He cheers her up, and takes her out of herself. We've +always acted with her as if we thought she was different from other +girls, and he behaves to her as if she was just like all of them, just as +silly, and just as weak, and it pleases her, and flatters her; she likes +it." + +"Oh, Lord!" groaned the father. "I suppose she does." + +This was bad enough; it was a blow to his pride in Ellen; but there was +something that hurt him still worse. When the fellow had made sure of +her, he apparently felt himself so safe in her fondness that he did not +urge his suit with her. His content with her tacit acceptance gave the +bitterness of shame to the promise Kenton and his wife had made each +other never to cross any of their children in love. They were ready now +to keep that promise for Ellen, if he asked it of them, rather than +answer for her lifelong disappointment, if they denied him. But, +whatever he meant finally to do, he did not ask it; he used his footing +in their house chiefly as a basis for flirtations beyond it. He began to +share his devotions to Ellen with her girl friends, and not with her girl +friends alone. It did not come to scandal, but it certainly came to +gossip about him and a silly young wife; and Kenton heard of it with a +torment of doubt whether Ellen knew of it, and what she would do; he +would wait for her to do herself whatever was to be done. He was never +certain how much she had heard of the gossip when she came to her mother, +and said with the gentle eagerness she had, "Didn't poppa talk once of +going South this winter?" + +"He talked of going to New York," the mother answered, with a throb of +hope. + +"Well," the girl returned, patiently, and Mrs. Kenton read in her +passivity an eagerness to be gone from sorrow that she would not suffer +to be seen, and interpreted her to her father in such wise that he could +not hesitate. + + + + +II. + +If such a thing could be mercifully ordered, the order of this event had +certainly been merciful; but it was a cruel wrench that tore Kenton from +the home where he had struck such deep root. When he actually came to +leave the place his going had a ghastly unreality, which was heightened +by his sense of the common reluctance. No one wanted to go, so far as he +could make out, not even Ellen herself, when he tried to make her say she +wished it. Lottie was in open revolt, and animated her young men to a +share in the insurrection. Her older brother was kindly and helpfully +acquiescent, but he was so far from advising the move that Kenton had +regularly to convince himself that Richard approved it, by making him say +that it was only for the winter and that it was the best way of helping +Ellen get rid of that fellow. All this did not enable Kenton to meet the +problems of his younger son, who required him to tell what he was to do +with his dog and his pigeons, and to declare at once how he was to +dispose of the cocoons he had amassed so as not to endanger the future of +the moths and butterflies involved in them. The boy was so fertile in +difficulties and so importunate for their solution, that he had to be +crushed into silence by his father, who ached in a helpless sympathy with +his reluctance. + +Kenton came heavily upon the courage of his wife, who was urging forward +their departure with so much energy that he obscurely accused her of +being the cause of it, and could only be convinced of her innocence when +she offered to give the whole thing up if he said so. When he would not +say so, she carried the affair through to the bitter end, and she did not +spare him some, pangs which she perhaps need not have shared with him. +But people are seldom man and wife for half their lives without wishing +to impart their sufferings as well as their pleasures to each other; and +Mrs. Kenton, if she was no worse, was no better than other wives in +pressing to her husband's lips the cup that was not altogether sweet to +her own. She went about the house the night before closing it, to see +that everything was in a state to be left, and then she came to Kenton in +his library, where he had been burning some papers and getting others +ready to give in charge to his son, and sat down by his cold hearth with +him, and wrung his soul with the tale of the last things she had been +doing. When she had made him bear it all, she began to turn the bright +side of the affair to him. She praised the sense and strength of Ellen, +in the course the girl had taken with herself, and asked him if he, +really thought they could have done less for her than they were doing. +She reminded him that they were not running away from the fellow, as she +had once thought they must, but Ellen was renouncing him, and putting him +out of her sight till she could put him out of her mind. She did not +pretend that the girl had done this yet; but it was everything that she +wished to do it, and saw that it was best. Then she kissed him on his +gray head, and left him alone to the first ecstasy of his homesickness. + +It was better when they once got to New York, and were settled in an +apartment of an old-fashioned down-town hotel. They thought themselves +very cramped in it, and they were but little easier when they found that +the apartments over and under them were apparently thought spacious for +families of twice their numbers. It was the very quietest place in the +whole city, but Kenton was used to the stillness of Tuskingum, where, +since people no longer kept hens, the nights were stiller than in the +country itself; and for a week he slept badly. Otherwise, as soon as +they got used to living in six rooms instead of seventeen, they were +really very comfortable. + +He could see that his wife was glad of the release from housekeeping, and +she was growing gayer and seemed to be growing younger in the inspiration +of the great, good-natured town. They had first come to New York on +their wedding journey, but since that visit she had always let him go +alone on his business errands to the East; these had grown less and less +frequent, and he had not seen New York for ten or twelve years. He could +have waited as much longer, but he liked her pleasure in the place, and +with the homesickness always lurking at his heart he went about with her +to the amusements which she frequented, as she said, to help Ellen take +her mind off herself. At the play and the opera he sat thinking of the +silent, lonely house at Tuakingum, dark among its leafless maples, and +the life that was no more in it than if they had all died out of it; and +he could not keep down a certain resentment, senseless and cruel, as if +the poor girl were somehow to blame for their exile. When he betrayed +this feeling to his wife, as he sometimes must, she scolded him for it, +and then offered, if he really thought anything like that, to go back to +Tuskingum at once; and it ended in his having to own himself wrong, and +humbly promise that he never would let the child dream how he felt, +unless he really wished to kill her. He was obliged to carry his self- +punishment so far as to take Lottie very sharply to task when she broke +out in hot rebellion, and declared that it was all Ellen's fault; she was +not afraid of killing her sister; and though she did not say it to her, +she said it of her, that anybody else could have got rid of that fellow +without turning the whole family out of house and home. + +Lottie, in fact, was not having a bit good time in New York, which she +did not find equal in any way to Tuskingum for fun. She hated the dull +propriety of the hotel, where nobody got acquainted, and every one was as +afraid as death of every one else; and in her desolation she was thrown +back upon the society of her brother Boyne. They became friends in their +common dislike of New York; and pending some chance of bringing each +other under condemnation they lamented their banishment from Tuskingum +together. But even Boyne contrived to make the heavy time pass more +lightly than she in the lessons he had with a tutor, and the studies of +the city which he carried on. When the skating was not good in Central +Park he spent most of his afternoons and evenings at the vaudeville +theatres. None of the dime museums escaped his research, and he +conversed with freaks and monsters of all sorts upon terms of friendly +confidence. He reported their different theories of themselves to his +family with the same simple-hearted interest that he criticised the song +and dance artists of the vaudeville theatres. He became an innocent but +by no means uncritical connoisseur of their attractions, and he surprised +with the constancy and variety of his experience in them a gentleman who +sat next him one night. Boyne thought him a person of cultivation, and +consulted him upon the opinion he had formed that there was not so much +harm in such places as people said. The gentleman distinguished in +saying that he thought you would not find more harm in them, if you did +not bring it with you, than you would in the legitimate theatres; and in +the hope of further wisdom from him, Boyne followed him out of the +theatre and helped him on with his overcoat. The gentleman walked home +to his hotel with him, and professed a pleasure in his acquaintance which +he said he trusted they might sometime renew. + +All at once the Kentons began to be acquainted in the hotel, as often +happens with people after they have long ridden up and down in the +elevator together in bonds of apparently perpetual strangeness. From one +friendly family their acquaintance spread to others until they were, +almost without knowing it, suddenly and simultaneously on smiling and +then on speaking terms with the people of every permanent table in the +dining-room. Lottie and Boyne burst the chains of the unnatural kindness +which bound them, and resumed their old relations of reciprocal censure. +He found a fellow of his own age in the apartment below, who had the same +country traditions and was engaged in a like inspection of the city; and +she discovered two girls on another floor, who said they received on +Saturdays and wanted her to receive with them. They made a tea for her, +and asked some real New Yorkers; and such a round of pleasant little +events began for her that Boyne was forced to call his mother's attention +to the way Charlotte was going on with the young men whom she met and +frankly asked to call upon her without knowing anything about them; you +could not do that in New York, he said. + +But by this time New York had gone to Mrs. Kenton's head, too, and she +was less fitted to deal with Lottie than at home. Whether she had +succeeded or not in helping Ellen take her mind off herself, she had +certainly freed her own from introspection in a dream of things which had +seemed impossible before. She was in that moment of a woman's life which +has a certain pathos for the intelligent witness, when, having reared her +children and outgrown the more incessant cares of her motherhood, she +sometimes reverts to her girlish impulses and ideals, and confronts the +remaining opportunities of life with a joyful hope unknown to our heavier +and sullener sex in its later years. It is this peculiar power of +rejuvenescence which perhaps makes so many women outlive their husbands, +who at the same age regard this world as an accomplished fact. Mrs. +Kenton had kept up their reading long after Kenton found himself too busy +or too tired for it; and when he came from his office at night and fell +asleep over the book she wished him to hear, she continued it herself, +and told him about it. When Ellen began to show the same taste, they +read together, and the mother was not jealous when the father betrayed +that he was much prouder of his daughter's culture than his wife's. She +had her own misgivings that she was not so modern as Ellen, and she +accepted her judgment in the case of some authors whom she did not like +so well. + +She now went about not only to all the places where she could make +Ellen's amusement serve as an excuse, but to others when she could not +coax or compel the melancholy girl. She was as constant at matinees of +one kind as Boyne at another sort; she went to the exhibitions of +pictures, and got herself up in schools of painting; she frequented +galleries, public and private, and got asked to studio teas; she went to +meetings and conferences of aesthetic interest, and she paid an easy way +to parlor lectures expressive of the vague but profound ferment in +women's souls; from these her presence in intellectual clubs was a simple +and natural transition. She met and talked with interesting people, and +now and then she got introduced to literary people. Once, in a book- +store, she stood next to a gentleman leaning over the same counter, whom +a salesman addressed by the name of a popular author, and she remained +staring at him breathless till he left the place. When she bragged of +the prodigious experience at home, her husband defied her to say how it +differed from meeting the lecturers who had been their guests in +Tuskingum, and she answered that none of them compared with this author; +and, besides, a lion in his own haunts was very different from a lion +going round the country on exhibition. Kenton thought that was pretty +good, and owned that she had got him there. + +He laughed at her, to the children, but all the same she believed that +she was living in an atmosphere of culture, and with every breath she was +sensible of an intellectual expansion. She found herself in the +enjoyment of so wide and varied a sympathy with interests hitherto +strange to her experience that she could not easily make people believe +she had never been to Europe. Nearly every one she met had been several +times, and took it for granted that she knew the Continent as well as +they themselves. + +She denied it with increasing shame; she tried to make Kenton understand +how she felt, and she might have gone further if she had not seen how +homesick he was for Tuskingum. She did her best to coax him and scold +him into a share of the pleasure they were all beginning to have in New +York. She made him own that Ellen herself was beginning to be gayer; she +convinced him that his business was not suffering in his absence and that +he was the better from the complete rest he was having. She defied him, +to say, then, what was the matter with him, and she bitterly reproached +herself, in the event, for not having known that it was not homesickness +alone that was the trouble. When he was not going about with her, or +doing something to amuse the children, he went upon long, lonely walks, +and came home silent and fagged. He had given up smoking, and he did not +care to sit about in the office of the hotel where other old fellows +passed the time over their papers and cigars, in the heat of the glowing +grates. They looked too much like himself, with their air of +unrecognized consequence, and of personal loss in an alien environment. +He knew from their dress and bearing that they were country people, and +it wounded him in a tender place to realize that they had each left +behind him in his own town an authority and a respect which they could +not enjoy in New York. Nobody called them judge, or general, or doctor, +or squire; nobody cared who they were, or what they thought; Kenton did +not care himself; but when he missed one of them he envied him, for then +he knew that he had gone back to the soft, warm keeping of his own +neighborhood, and resumed the intelligent regard of a community he had +grown up with. There were men in New York whom Kenton had met in former +years, and whom he had sometimes fancied looking up; but he did not let +them know he was in town, and then he was hurt that they ignored him. +He kept away from places where he was likely to meet them; he thought +that it must have come to them that he was spending the winter in New +York, and as bitterly as his nature would suffer he resented the +indifference of the Ohio Society to the presence of an Ohio man of his +local distinction. He had not the habit of clubs, and when one of the +pleasant younger fellows whom he met in the hotel offered to put him up +at one, he shrank from the courtesy shyly and almost dryly. He had +outlived the period of active curiosity, and he did not explore the city +as he world once have done. He had no resorts out of the hotel, except +the basements of the secondhand book-dealers. He haunted these, and +picked up copies of war histories and biographies, which, as fast as he +read them, he sent off to his son at Tuskingum, and had him put them away +with the documents for the life of his regiment. His wife could see, +with compassion if not sympathy, that he was fondly strengthening by +these means the ties that bound him to his home, and she silently +proposed to go back to it with him whenever he should say the word. + +He had a mechanical fidelity, however, to their agreement that they +should stay till spring, and he made no sign of going, as the winter wore +away to its end, except to write out to Tuskingum minute instructions for +getting the garden ready. He varied his visits to the book-stalls by +conferences with seedsmen at their stores; and his wife could see that he +had as keen a satisfaction in despatching a rare find from one as from +the other. + +She forbore to make him realize that the situation had not changed, and +that they would be taking their daughter back to the trouble the girl +herself had wished to escape. She was trusting, with no definite hope, +for some chance of making him feel this, while Kenton was waiting with a +kind of passionate patience for the term of his exile, when he came in +one day in April from one of his long walks, and said he had been up to +the Park to see the blackbirds. But he complained of being tired, and he +lay down on his bed. He did not get up for dinner, and then it was six +weeks before he left his room. + +He could not remember that he had ever been sick so long before, and he +was so awed by his suffering, which was severe but not serious, that when +his doctor said he thought a voyage to Europe would be good for him he +submitted too meekly for Mrs. Kenton. Her heart smote her for her guilty +joy in his sentence, and she punished herself by asking if it would not +do him more good to get back to the comfort and quiet of their own house. +She went to the length of saying that she believed his attack had been +brought on more by homesickness than anything else. But the doctor +agreed rather with her wish than her word, and held out that his +melancholy was not the cause but the effect of his disorder. Then she +took courage and began getting ready to go. She did not flag even in the +dark hours when Kenton got back his courage with his returning strength, +and scoffed at the notion of Europe, and insisted that as soon as they +were in Tuskingum he should be all right again. + +She felt the ingratitude, not to say the perfidy, of his behavior, and +she fortified herself indignantly against it; but it was not her constant +purpose, or the doctor's inflexible opinion, that prevailed with Kenton +at last a letter came one day for Ellen which she showed to her mother, +and which her mother, with her distress obscurely relieved by a sense of +its powerful instrumentality, brought to the girl's father. It was from +that fellow, as they always called him, and it asked of the girl a +hearing upon a certain point in which, it had just come to his knowledge, +she had misjudged him. He made no claim upon her, and only urged his +wish to right himself with her because she was the one person in the +whole world, after his mother, for whose good opinion he cared. With +some tawdriness of sentiment, the letter was well worded; it was +professedly written for the sole purpose of knowing whether, when she +came back to Tuskingum, she would see him, and let him prove to her that +he was not wholly unworthy of the kindness she had shown him when he was +without other friends. + +"What does she say?" the judge demanded. + +"What do you suppose?" his wife retorted. "She thinks she ought to see +him." + +"Very well, then. We will go to Europe." + +"Not on my account!" Mrs. Kenton consciously protested. + +"No; not on your account, or mine, either. On Nelly's account. Where is +she? I want to talk with her." + +"And I want to talk with you. She's out, with Lottie; and when she comes +back I will tell her what you say. But I want to know what you think, +first." + + + + +III. + +It was some time before they arrived at a common agreement as to what +Kenton thought, and when they reached it they decided that they must +leave the matter altogether to Ellen, as they had done before. They +would never force her to anything, and if, after all that her mother +could say, she still wished to see the fellow, they would not deny her. + +When it came to this, Ellen was a long time silent, so long a time that +her mother was beginning restively to doubt whether she was going to +speak at all. Then she drew a long, silent breath. "I suppose I ought +to despise myself, momma, for caring for him, when he's never really said +that he cared for me." + +"No, no," her mother faltered. + +"But I do, I do!" she gave way piteously. "I can't help it! He doesn't +say so, even now." + +"No, he doesn't." It hurt her mother to own the fact that alone gave her +hope. + +The girl was a long time silent again before she asked, "Has poppa got +the tickets?" + +"Why, he wouldn't, Ellen, child, till he knew how you felt," her mother +tenderly reproached her. + +"He'd better not wait!" The tears ran silently down Ellen's cheeks, and +her lips twitched a little between these words and the next; she spoke as +if it were still of her father, but her mother understood. "If he ever +does say so, don't you speak a word to me, momma; and don't you let +poppa." + +"No; indeed I won't," her mother promised. "Have we ever interfered, +Ellen? Have we ever tried to control you?" + +"He WOULD have said so, if he hadn't seen that everybody was against +him." The mother bore without reply the ingratitude and injustice that +she knew were from the child's pain and not from her will. "Where is his +letter? Give me his letter!" She nervously twitched it from her +mother's hand and ran it into her pocket. She turned away to go and put +off her hat, which she still wore from coming in with Lottie; but she +stopped and looked over her shoulder at her mother. "I'm going to answer +it, and I don't want you ever to ask me what I've said. Will you?" + +"No, I won't, Nelly." + +"Well, then!" + +The next night she went with Boyne and Lottie to the apartment overhead +to spend their last evening with the young people there, who were going +into the country the next day. She came back without the others, who +wished to stay a little longer, as she said, with a look of gay +excitement in her eyes, which her mother knew was not happiness. Mrs. +Kenton had an impulse to sweep into her lap the lithograph plans of the +steamer, and the passage ticket which lay open on the table before +herself and her husband. But it was too late to hide them from Ellen. +She saw them, and caught up the ticket, and read it, and flung it down +again. "Oh, I didn't think you would do it!" she burst out; and she ran +away to her room, where they could hear her sobbing, as they sat +haggardly facing each other. + +"Well, that settles it," said Benton at last, with a hard gulp. + +"Oh, I suppose so," his wife assented. + +On his part, now, he had a genuine regret for her disappointment from the +sad safety of the trouble that would keep them at home; and on her part +she could be glad of it if any sort of comfort could come out of it to +him. + +"Till she says go," he added, "we've got to stay." + +"Oh yes," his wife responded. "The worst of it is, we can't even go back +to Tuskingum:' He looked up suddenly at her, and she saw that be had not +thought of this. She made "Tchk!" in sheer amaze at him. + +"We won't cross that river till we come to it," he said, sullenly, but +half-ashamed. The next morning the situation had not changed overnight, +as they somehow both crazily hoped it might, and at breakfast, which they +had at a table grown more remote from others with the thinning out of the +winter guests of the hotel, the father and mother sat down alone in +silence which was scarcely broken till Lottie and Boyne joined them. + +"Where's Ellen?" the boy demanded. + +"She's having her breakfast in her room," Mrs. Kenton answered. + +"She says she don't want to eat anything," Lottie reported. "She made +the man take it away again." + +The gloom deepened in the faces of the father and mother, but neither +spoke, and Boyne resumed the word again in a tone of philosophic +speculation. "I don't see how I'm going to get along, with those +European breakfasts. They say you can't get anything but cold meat or +eggs; and generally they don't expect to give you anything but bread and +butter with your coffee. I don't think that's the way to start the day, +do you, poppa?" + +Kenton seemed not to have heard, for he went on silently eating, and the +mother, who had not been appealed to, merely looked distractedly across +the table at her children. + +"Mr. Plumpton says he's coming down to see us off," said Lottie, +smoothing her napkin in her lap. "Do you know the time of day when the +boat sails, momma?" + +"Yes," her brother broke in, "and if I had been momma I'd have boxed your +ears for the way you went on with him. You fairly teased him to come. +The way Lottie goes on with men is a shame, momma." + +"What time does the boat sail, momma!" Lottie blandly persisted. "I +promised to let Mr. Plumpton know." + +"Yes, so as to get a chance to write to him," said Boyne. "I guess when +he sees your spelling!" + +"Momma! Do wake up! What time does our steamer sail?" + +A light of consciousness came into Mrs. Renton's eyes at last, and she +sighed gently. "We're not going, Lottie." + +"Not going! Why, but we've got the tickets, and I've told--" + +"Your father has decided not to go, for the present. We may go later in +the summer, or perhaps in the fall." + +Boyne looked at his father's troubled face, and said nothing, but Lottie +was not stayed from the expression of her feelings by any ill-timed +consideration for what her father's might be. "I just know," she fired, +"it's something to do with that nasty Bittridge. He's been a bitter dose +to this family! As soon as I saw Ellen have a letter I was sure it was +from him; and she ought to be ashamed. If I had played the simpleton +with such a fellow I guess you wouldn't have let me keep you from going +to Europe very much. What is she going to do now? Marry him? Or +doesn't he want her to?" + +"Lottie!" said her mother, and her father glanced up at her with a face +that silenced her. + +"When you've been half as good a girl as Ellen has been, in this whole +matter," he said, darkly, "it will be time for you to complain of the way +you've been treated." + +"Oh yes, I know you like Ellen the best," said the girl, defiantly. + +"Don't say such a thing, Lottie!" said her mother. "Your father loves +all his children alike, and I won't have you talking so to him. Ellen +has had a great deal to bear, and she has behaved beautifully. If we are +not going to Europe it is because we have decided that it is best not to +go, and I wish to hear nothing more from you about it." + +"Oh yes! And a nice position it leaves me in, when I've been taking +good-bye of everybody! Well, I hope to goodness you won't say anything +about it till the Plumptons get away. I couldn't have the face to meet +them if you did." + +"It won't be necessary to say anything; or you can say that we've merely +postponed our sailing. People are always doing that." + +"It's not to be a postponement," said Kenton, so sternly that no one +ventured to dispute him, the children because they were afraid of him, +and their mother because she was suffering for him. + +At the steamship office, however, the authorities represented that it was +now so near the date of his sailing that they could not allow him to +relinquish his passages except at his own risk. They would try to sell +his ticket for him, but they could not take it back, and they could not +promise to sell it. There was reason in what they said, but if there had +been none, they had the four hundred dollars which Kenton had paid for +his five berths and they had at least the advantage of him in the +argument by that means. He put the ticket back in his pocket-book +without attempting to answer them, and deferred his decision till he +could advise with his wife, who, after he left the breakfast-table upon +his errand to the steamship office, had abandoned her children to their +own devices, and gone to scold Ellen for not eating. + +She had not the heart to scold her when she found the girl lying face +downward in the pillow, with her thin arms thrown up through the coils +and heaps of her loose-flung hair. She was so alight that her figure +scarcely defined itself under the bedclothes; the dark hair, and the +white, outstretched arms seemed all there was of her. She did not stir, +but her mother knew she was not sleeping. "Ellen," she said, gently, +"you needn't be troubled about our going to Europe. Your father has gone +down to the steamship office to give back his ticket." + +The girl flashed her face round with nervous quickness. "Gone to give +back his ticket!" + +"Yes, we decided it last night. He's never really wanted to go, and--" + +"But I don't wish poppa to give up his ticket!" said Ellen. "He must +get it again. I shall die if I stay here, momma. We have got to go. +Can't you understand that?" + +Mrs. Kenton did not know what to answer. She had a strong superficial +desire to shake her daughter as a naughty child which has vexed its +mother, but under this was a stir stronger pity for her as a woman, which +easily, prevailed. "Why, but, Ellen dear! We thought from what you said +last night--" + +"But couldn't you SEE," the girl reproached her, and she began to cry, +and turned her face into the pillow again and lay sobbing. + +"Well," said her mother, after she had given her a little time, "you +needn't be troubled. Your father can easily get the ticket again; he can +telephone down for it. Nothing has been done yet. But didn't you really +want to stay, then?" + +"It isn't whether I want to stay or not," Ellen spoke into her pillow. +"You know that. You know that I have got to go. You know that if I saw +him--Oh, why do you make me talk?" + +"Yes, I understand, child." Then, in the imperious necessity of blaming +some one, Mrs. Kenton added: "You know how it is with your father. He is +always so precipitate; and when he heard what you said, last night, it +cut him to the heart. He felt as if he were dragging you away, and this +morning he could hardly wait to get through his breakfast before he +rushed down to the steamship office. But now it's all right again, and +if you want to go, we'll go, and your father will only be too glad." + +"I don't want father to go against his will. You said he never wanted to +go to Europe." The girl had turned her face upon her mother again; and +fixed her with her tearful, accusing eyes. + +"The doctors say he ought to go. He needs the change, and I think we +should all be the better far getting away." + +"I shall not," said Ellen. "But if I don't--" + +"Yes," said her mother, soothingly. + +"You know that nothing has changed. He hasn't changed and I haven't. If +he was bad, he's as bad as ever, and I'm just as silly. Oh, it's like a +drunkard! I suppose they know it's killing them, but they can't give it +up! Don't you think it's very strange, momma? I don't see why I should +be so. It seems as if I had no character at all, and I despise myself +so! Do you believe I shall ever get over it? Sometimes I think the best +thing for me would be to go into an asylum." + +"Oh yes, dear; you'll get over it, and forget it all. As soon as you see +others--other scenes--and get interested--" + +"And you don't you don't think I'd better let him come, and--" + +"Ellen!" + +Ellen began to sob again, and toss her head upon the pillow. "What shall +I do? What shall I do?" she wailed. "He hasn't ever done anything bad +to me, and if I can overlook his--his flirting--with that horrid thing, +I don't know what the rest of you have got to say. And he says he can +explain everything. Why shouldn't I give him the chance, momma? I do +think it is acting very cruel not to let him even say a word." + +"You can see him if you wish, Ellen," said her mother, gravely. "Your +father and I have always said that. And perhaps it would be the best +thing, after all." + +"Oh, you say that because you think that if I did see him, I should be so +disgusted with him that I'd never want to speak to him again. But what +if I shouldn't?" + +"Then we should wish you to do whatever you thought was for your +happiness, Ellen. We can't believe it would be for your good; but if it +would be for your happiness, we are willing. Or, if you don't think it's +for your happiness, but only for his, and you wish to do it, still we +shall be willing, and you know that as far as your father and I are +concerned, there will never be a word of reproach--not a whisper." + +"Lottie would despise me; and what would Richard say?" + +"Richard would never say anything to wound you, dear, and if you don't +despise yourself, you needn't mind Lottie." + +"But I should, momma; that's the worst of it! I should despise myself, +and he would despise me too. No, if I see him, I am going to do it +because I am selfish and wicked, and wish to have my own way, no matter +who is harmed by it, or--anything; and I'm not going to have it put on +any other ground. I could see him," she said, as if to herself, "just +once more--only once more--and then if I didn't believe in him, I could +start right off to Europe." + +Her mother made no answer to this, and Ellen lay awhile apparently +forgetful of her presence, inwardly dramatizing a passionate scene of +dismissal between herself and her false lover. She roused herself from +the reverie with a long sigh, and her mother said, "Won't you have some +breakfast, now; Ellen?" + +"Yes; and I will get up. You needn't be troubled any more about me, +momma. I will write to him not to come, and poppa must go back and get +his ticket again." + +"Not unless you are doing this of your own free will, child. I can't +have you feeling that we are putting any pressure upon you." + +"You're not. I'm doing it of my own will. If it isn't my free will, +that isn't your fault. I wonder whose fault it is? Mine, or what made +me so silly and weak?" + +"You are not silly and weak," said her mother, fondly, and she bent over +the girl and would have kissed her, but Ellen averted her face with a +piteous "Don't!" and Mrs. Kenton went out and ordered her breakfast +brought back. + +She did not go in to make her eat it, as she would have done in the +beginning of the girl's trouble; they had all learned how much better she +was for being left to fight her battles with herself singlehanded. +Mrs. Kenton waited in the parlor till her husband same in, looking gloomy +and tired. He put his hat down and sank into a chair without speaking. +"Well?" she said. + +"We have got to lose the price of the ticket, if we give it back. I +thought I had better talk with you first," said Kenton, and he explained +the situation. + +"Then you had better simply have it put off till the next steamer. +I have been talking with Ellen, and she doesn't want to stay. She wants +to go." His wife took advantage of Kenton's mute amaze (in the nervous +vagaries even of the women nearest him a man learns nothing from +experience) to put her own interpretation on the case, which, as it was +creditable to the girl's sense and principle, he found acceptable if not +imaginable. "And if you will take my advice," she ended, "you will go +quietly back to the steamship office and exchange your ticket for the +next steamer, or the one after that, if you can't get good rooms, and +give Ellen time to get over this before she leaves. It will be much +better for her to conquer herself than to run away, for that would always +give her a feeling of shame, and if she decides before she goes, it will +strengthen her pride and self-respect, and there will be less danger-- +when we come back." + +"Do you think he's going to keep after her!" + +"How can I tell? He will if he thinks it's to his interest, or he can +make anybody miserable by it." + +Kenton said nothing to this, but after a while he suggested, rather +timorously, as if it were something he could not expect her to approve, +and was himself half ashamed of, "I believe if I do put it off, I'll run +out to Tuskingum before we sail, and look after a little matter of +business that I don't think Dick can attend to so well." + +His wife knew why he wanted to go, and in her own mind she had already +decided that if he should ever propose to go, she should not gainsay him. +She had, in fact, been rather surprised that he had not proposed it +before this, and now she assented, without taxing him with his real +motive, and bringing him to open disgrace before her. She even went +further in saying: "Very well, then you had better go. I can get on very +well here, and I think it will leave Ellen freer to act for herself if +you are away. And there are some things in the house that I want, and +that Richard would be sure to send his wife to get if I asked him, and I +won't have her rummaging around in my closets. I suppose you will want +to go into the house?" + +"I suppose so," said Renton, who had not let a day pass, since he left +his house, without spending half his homesick time in it. His wife +suffered his affected indifference to go without exposure, and trumped up +a commission for him, which would take him intimately into the house. + + + + +IV + +The piety of his son Richard had maintained the place at Tuskingum in +perfect order outwardly, and Kenton's heart ached with tender pain as he +passed up the neatly kept walk from the gate, between the blooming ranks +of syringas and snowballs, to his door, and witnessed the faithful care +that Richard's hired man had bestowed upon every detail. The grass +between the banks of roses and rhododendrons had been as scrupulously +lawn-mowered and as sedulously garden-hosed as if Kenton himself had been +there to look after its welfare, or had tended the shrubbery as he used +to do in earlier days with his own hand. The oaks which he had planted +shook out their glossy green in the morning gale, and in the tulip-trees, +which had snowed their petals on the ground in wide circles defined by +the reach of their branches, he heard the squirrels barking; a red-bird +from the woody depths behind the house mocked the cat-birds in the +quince-trees. The June rose was red along the trellis of the veranda, +where Lottie ought to be sitting to receive the morning calls of the +young men who were sometimes quite as early as Kenton's present visit in +their devotions, and the sound of Ellen's piano, played fitfully and +absently in her fashion, ought to be coming out irrespective of the hour. +It seemed to him that his wife must open the door as his steps and his +son's made themselves heard on the walk between the box borders in their +upper orchard, and he faltered a little. + +"Look here, father," said his son, detecting his hesitation. "Why don't +you let Mary come in with you, and help you find those things?" + +"No, no," said Kenton, sinking into one of the wooden seats that flanked +the door-way. "I promised your mother that I would get them myself. You +know women don't like to have other women going through their houses." + +"Yes, but Mary!" his son urged. + +"Ah! It's just Mary, with her perfect housekeeping, that your mother +wouldn't like to have see the way she left things," said Kenton, and he +smiled at the notion of any one being housekeeper enough to find a flaw +in his wife's. "My, but this is pleasant!" he added. He took off his +hat and let the breeze play through the lank, thin hair which was still +black on his fine, high forehead. He was a very handsome old man, with a +delicate aquiline profile, of the perfect Roman type which is perhaps +oftener found in America than ever it was in Rome. "You've kept it very +nice, Dick," he said, with a generalizing wave of his hat. + +"Well, I couldn't tell whether you would be coming back or not, and I +thought I had better be ready for you." + +"I wish we were," said the old man, "and we shall be, in the fall, or the +latter part of the summer. But it's better now that we should go--on +Ellen's account." + +"Oh, you'll enjoy it," his son evaded him. + +"You haven't seen anything of him lately?" Kenton suggested. + +"He wasn't likely to let me see anything of him," returned the son. + +"No," said the father. "Well!" He rose to put the key into the door, +and his son stepped down from the little porch to the brick walk. + +"Mary will have dinner early, father; and when you've got through here, +you'd better come over and lie down a while beforehand." + +Kenton had been dropped at eight o'clock from a sleeper on the Great +Three, and had refused breakfast at his son's house, upon the plea that +the porter had given him a Southern cantaloupe and a cup of coffee on the +train, and he was no longer hungry. + +"All right," he said. "I won't be longer than I can help." He had got +the door open and was going to close it again. + +His son laughed. "Better not shut it, father. It will let the fresh air +in." + +"Oh, all right," said the old man. + +The son lingered about, giving some orders to the hired man in the +vegetable garden, for an excuse, in the hope that his father might change +his mind and ask him to come into the house with him; he felt it so +forlorn for him to be going through those lifeless rooms alone. When he +looked round, and saw his father holding the door ajar, as if impatiently +waiting for him to be gone, he laughed and waved his hand to him. "All +right, father? I'm going now." But though he treated the matter so +lightly with his father, he said grimly to his wife, as he passed her on +their own porch, on his way to his once, "I don't like to think of father +being driven out of house and home this way." + +"Neither do I, Dick. But it can't be helped, can it?" + +"I think I could help it, if I got my hands on that fellow once." + +"No, you couldn't, Dick. It's not he that's doing it. It's Ellen; you +know that well enough; and you've just got to stand it." + +"Yes, I suppose so," said Richard Kenton. + +"Of course, my heart aches for your poor old father, but so it would if +Ellen had some kind of awful sickness. It is a kind of sickness, and you +can't fight it any more than if she really was sick." + +"No," said the husband, dejectedly. "You just slip over there, after a +while, Mary, if father's gone too long, will you? I don't like to have +him there alone." + +"'Deed and 'deed I won't, Dick. He wouldn't like it at all, my spying +round. Nothing can happen to him, and I believe your mother's just made +an excuse to send him after something, so that he can be in there alone, +and realize that the house isn't home any more. It will be easier for +him to go to Europe when he finds that out. I believe in my heart that +was her idea in not wanting me to find the things for him, and I'm not +going to meddle myself." + +With the fatuity of a man in such things, and with the fatuity of age +regarding all the things of the past, Kenton had thought in his +homesickness of his house as he used to be in it, and had never been able +to picture it without the family life. As he now walked through the +empty rooms, and up and down the stairs, his pulse beat low as if in the +presence of death. Everything was as they had left it, when they went +out of the house, and it appeared to Kenton that nothing had been touched +there since, though when he afterwards reported to his wife that there +was not a speck of dust anywhere she knew that Mary had been going +through the house, in their absence, not once only, but often, and she +felt a pang of grateful jealousy. He got together the things that Mrs. +Kenton had pretended to want, and after glancing in at the different +rooms, which seemed to be lying stealthily in wait for him, with their +emptiness and silence, he went down-stairs with the bundle he had made, +and turned into his library. He had some thought of looking at the +collections for his history, but, after pulling open one of the drawers +in which they were stored, he pushed it to again, and sank listlessly +into his leather-covered swivel-chair, which stood in its place before +the wide writing-table, and seemed to have had him in it before he sat +down. The table was bare, except for the books and documents which he +had sent home from time to time during the winter, and which Richard or +his wife had neatly arranged there without breaking their wraps. He let +fall his bundle at his feet, and sat staring at the ranks of books +against the wall, mechanically relating them to the different epochs of +the past in which he or his wife or his children had been interested in +them, and aching with tender pain. He had always supposed himself a +happy and strong and successful man, but what a dreary ruin his life had +fallen into! Was it to be finally so helpless and powerless (for with +all the defences about him that a man can have, he felt himself fatally +vulnerable) that he had fought so many years? Why, at his age, should he +be going into exile, away from everything that could make his days bright +and sweet? Why could not he come back there, where he was now more +solitary than he could be anywhere else on earth, and reanimate the dead +body of his home with his old life? He knew why, in an immediate sort, +but his quest was for the cause behind the cause. What had he done, or +left undone? He had tried to be a just man, and fulfil all his duties +both to his family and to his neighbors; he had wished to be kind, and +not to harm any one; he reflected how, as he had grown older, the dread +of doing any unkindness had grown upon him, and how he had tried not to +be proud, but to walk meekly and humbly. Why should he be punished as he +was, stricken in a place so sacred that the effort to defend himself had +seemed a kind of sacrilege? He could not make it out, and he was not +aware of the tears of self-pity that stole slowly down his face, though +from time to time he wiped them away. + +He heard steps in the hall without, advancing and pausing, which must be +those of his son coming back for him, and with these advances and pauses +giving him notice of his approach; but he did not move, and at first he +did not look up when the steps arrived at the threshold of the room where +he sat. When he lifted his eyes at last he saw Bittridge lounging in the +door-way, with one shoulder supported against the door-jamb, his hands in +his pockets and his hat pushed well back on his forehead. In an instant +all Kenton's humility and soft repining were gone. "Well, what is it?" +he called. + +"Oh," said Bittridge, coming forward. He laughed and explained, "Didn't +know if you recognized me." + +"I recognized you," said Kenton, fiercely. "What is it you want?" + +"Well, I happened to be passing, and I saw the door open, and I thought +maybe Dick was here." + +It was on Kenton's tongue to say that it was a good thing for him Dick +was not there. But partly the sense that this would be unbecoming +bluster, and partly the suffocating resentment of the fellow's impudence, +limited his response to a formless gasp, and Bittridge went on: "But I'm +glad to find you here, judge. I didn't know that you were in town. +Family all well in New York?" He was not quelled by the silence of the +judge on this point, but, as if he had not expected any definite reply to +what might well pass for formal civility, he now looked aslant into his +breast-pocket from which he drew a folded paper. "I just got hold of a +document this morning that I think will interest you. I was bringing it +round to Dick's wife for you." The intolerable familiarity of all this +was fast working Kenton to a violent explosion, but he contained himself, +and Bittridge stepped forward to lay the paper on the table before him. +"It's the original roster of Company C, in your regiment, and--" + +"Take it away!" shouted Kenton, "and take yourself away with it!" and he +grasped the stick that shook in his hand. + +A wicked light came into Bittridge's eye as he drawled, in lazy scorn, +"Oh, I don't know." Then his truculence broke in a malicious amusement. +"Why, judge, what's the matter?" He put on a face of mock gravity, and +Kenton knew with helpless fury that he was enjoying his vantage. He +could fall upon him and beat him with his stick, leaving the situation +otherwise undefined, but a moment's reflection convinced Kenton that this +would not do. It made him sick to think of striking the fellow, as if in +that act he should be striking Ellen, too. It did not occur to him that +he could be physically worsted, or that his vehement age would be no +match for the other's vigorous youth. All he thought was that it would +not avail, except to make known to every one what none but her dearest +could now conjecture. Bittridge could then publicly say, and doubtless +would say, that he had never made love to Ellen; that if there had been +any love-making it was all on her side; and that he had only paid her the +attentions which any young man might blamelessly pay a pretty girl. This +would be true to the facts in the case, though it was true also that he +had used every tacit art to make her believe him in love with her. But +how could this truth be urged, and to whom? So far the affair had been +quite in the hands of Ellen's family, and they had all acted for the +best, up to the present time. They had given Bittridge no grievance in +making him feel that he was unwelcome in their house, and they were quite +within their rights in going away, and making it impossible for him to +see her again anywhere in Tuskingum. As for his seeing her in New York, +Ellen had but to say that she did not wish it, and that would end it. +Now, however, by treating him rudely, Kenton was aware that he had bound +himself to render Bittridge some account of his behavior throughout, if +the fellow insisted upon it. + +"I want nothing to do with you, sir," he said, less violently, but, as he +felt, not more effectually. "You are in my house without my invitation, +and against my wish!" + +"I didn't expect to find you here. I came in because I saw the door +open, and I thought I might see Dick or his wife and give them, this +paper for you. But I'm glad I found you, and if you won't give me any +reason for not wanting me here, I can give it myself, and I think I can +make out a very good case for you." Kenton quivered in anticipation of +some mention of Ellen, and Bittridge smiled as if he understood. But he +went on to say: "I know that there were things happened after you first +gave me the run of your house that might make you want to put up the bars +again--if they were true. But they were not true. And I can prove that +by the best of all possible witnesses--by Uphill himself. He stands +shoulder to shoulder with me, to make it hot for any one who couples his +wife's name with mine." + +"Humph!" Kenton could not help making this comment, and Bittridge, being +what he was, could not help laughing. + +"What's the use?" he asked, recovering himself. "I don't pretend that +I did right, but you know there wasn't any harm in it. And if there had +been I should have got the worst of it. Honestly, judge, I couldn't tell +you how much I prized being admitted to your house on the terms I was. +Don't you think I could appreciate the kindness you all showed me? +Before you took me up, I was alone in Tuskingum, but you opened every +door in the place for me. You made it home to me; and you won't believe +it, of course, because you're prejudiced; but I felt like a son and +brother to you all. I felt towards Mrs. Kenton just as I do towards my +own mother. I lost the best friends I ever had when you turned against +me. Don't you suppose I've seen the difference here in Tuskingum? Of +course, the men pass the time of day with me when we meet, but they don't +look me up, and there are more near-sighted girls in this town!" Kenton +could not keep the remote dawn of a smile out of his eyes, and Bittridge +caught the far-off gleam. "And everybody's been away the whole winter. +Not a soul at home, anywhere, and I had to take my chance of surprising +Mrs. Dick Kenton when I saw your door open here." He laughed forlornly, as +the gleam faded out of Kenton's eye again. "And the worst of it is that +my own mother isn't at home to me, figuratively speaking, when I go over +to see her at Ballardsville. She got wind of my misfortune, somehow, and +when I made a clean breast of it to her, she said she could never feel +the same to me till I had made it all right with the Kentons. And when a +man's own mother is down on him, judge!" + +Bittridge left Kenton to imagine the desperate case, and in spite of his +disbelief in the man and all he said, Kenton could not keep his hardness +of heart towards him. "I don't know what you're after, young man," he +began. "But if you expect me to receive you under my roof again--" + +"Oh, I don't, judge, I don't!" Bittridge interposed. "All I want is to +be able to tell my mother--I don't care for anybody else--that I saw you, +and you allowed me to say that I was truly sorry for the pain--if it was +pain; or annoyance, anyway--that I had caused you, and to go back to her +with the hope of atoning for it sometime or somehow. That's all." + +"Look here!" cried Renton. "What have you written to my daughter for?" + +"Wasn't that natural? I prized her esteem more than I do yours even; but +did I ask her anything more than I've asked you? I didn't expect her to +answer me; all I wanted was to have her believe that I wasn't as black as +I was painted--not inside, anyway. You know well enough--anybody knows-- +that I would rather have her think well of me than any one else in this +world, except my mother. I haven't got the gift of showing out what's +good in me, if there is any good, but I believe Miss Ellen would want to +think well of me if I gave her a chance. If ever there was an angel on +earth, she's one. I don't deny that I was hopeful of mercy from her, +because she can't think evil, but I can lay my hand on my heart and say +that I wasn't selfish in my hopes. It seemed to me that it was her due +to understand that a man whom she had allowed to be her friend wasn't +altogether unworthy. That's as near as I can come to putting into words +the motive I had in writing to her. I can't even begin to put into words +the feeling I have towards her. It's as if she was something sacred." + +This was the feeling Renton himself had towards his daughter, and for the +first time he found himself on common ground with the scapegrace who +professed it, and whose light, mocking face so little enforced his +profession. If Bittridge could have spoken in the dark, his words might +have carried a conviction of his sincerity, but there, in plain day, +confronting the father of Ellen, who had every wish to believe him true, +the effect was different. Deep within his wish to think the man honest, +Kenton recoiled from him. He vaguely perceived that it was because she +could not think evil that this wretch had power upon her, and he was +sensible, as he had not been before, that she had no safety from him +except in absence. He did not know what to answer; he could not repel +him in open terms, and still less could he meet him with any words that +would allow him to resume his former relations with his family. He said, +finally: "We will let matters stand. We are going to Europe in a week, +and I shall not see you again. I will tell Mrs. Kenton what you say." + +"Thank you, judge. And tell her that I appreciate your kindness more +than I can say!" The judge rose from his chair and went towards the +window, which he had thrown open. "Going to shut up? Let me help you +with that window; it seems to stick. Everything fast up-stairs?" + +"I--I think so," Kenton hesitated. + +"I'll just run up and look," said Bittridge, and he took the stairs two +at a time, before Kenton could protest, when they came out into the hall +together. "It's all right," he reported on his quick return. "I'll just +look round below here," and he explored the ground-floor rooms in turn. +"No, you hadn't opened any other window," he said, glancing finally into +the library. "Shall I leave this paper on your table?" + +"Yes, leave it there," said Kenton, helplessly, and he let Bittridge +close the front door after him, and lock it. + +"I hope Miss Lottie is well," he suggested in handing the key to Kenton. +"And Boyne" he added, with the cordiality of an old family friend. +"I hope Boyne has got reconciled to New York a little. He was rather +anxious about his pigeons when he left, I understand. But I guess Dick's +man has looked after them. I'd have offered to take charge of the +cocoons myself if I'd had a chance." He walked, gayly chatting, across +the intervening lawn with Kenton to his son's door, where at sight of him +bra. Richard Kenton evanesced into the interior so obviously that +Bittridge could not offer to come in. "Well, I shall see you all when +you come back in the fall, judge, and I hope you'll have a pleasant +voyage and a good time in Europe." + +"Thank you," said Kenton, briefly. + +"Remember me to the ladies!" and Bittridge took off his hat with his +left hand, while he offered the judge his right. "Well, good-bye!" + +Kenton made what response he could, and escaped in-doors, where his +daughter-in-law appeared from the obscurity into which she had retired +from Bittridge. "Well, that follow does beat all! How, in the world did +he find you, father?" + +"He came into the house," said the judge, much abashed at his failure to +deal adequately with Bittridge. He felt it the more in the presence of +his son's wife. "I couldn't, seem to get rid of him in any way short of +kicking him out." + +"No, there's nothing equal to his impudence. I do believe he would have +come in here, if he hadn't seen me first. Did you tell him when you were +going back, father? Because he'd be at the train to see you off, just as +sure!" + +"No, I didn't tell him," said Kenton, feeling move shaken now from the +interview with Bittridge than he had realized before. He was ashamed to +let Mary know that he had listened to Bittridge's justification, which he +now perceived was none, and he would have liked to pretend that he had +not silently condoned his offences, but Mary did not drive him to these +deceptions by any further allusions to Bittridge. + +"Well, now, you must go into the sitting-room and lie down on the lounge; +I promised Dick to make you. Or would you rather go up-stairs to your +room?" + +"I think I'll go to my room," said Kenton. + +He was asleep there on the bed when Richard came home to dinner and +looked softly in. He decided not to wake him, and Mary said the sleep +would do him more good than the dinner. At table they talked him over, +and she told her husband what she knew of the morning's adventure. + +"That was pretty tough for father," said Richard. "I wouldn't go into +the house with him, because I knew he wanted to have it to himself; and +then to think of that dirty hound skulking in! Well, perhaps it's for +the best. It will make it easier, for father to go and leave the place, +and they've got to go. They've got to put the Atlantic Ocean between +Ellen and that fellow." + +"It does seem as if something might be done," his wife rebelled. + +"They've done the best that could be done," said Richard. "And if that +skunk hasn't got some sort of new hold upon father, I shall be satisfied. +The worst of it is that it will be all over town in an hour that +Bittridge has made up with us. I don't blame father; he couldn't help +it; he never could be rude to anybody." + +"I think I'll try if I can't be rude to Mr. Bittridge, if he ever +undertakes to show in my pretence that he has made it up with us," said +Mary. + +Richard tenderly found out from his father's shamefaced reluctance, +later, that no great mischief had been done. But no precaution on his +part availed to keep Bittridge from demonstrating the good feeling +between himself and the Kentons when the judge started for New York the +next afternoon. He was there waiting to see him off, and he all but took +the adieus out of Richard's hands. He got possession of the judge's +valise, and pressed past the porter into the sleeping-car with it, and +remained lounging on the arm of the judge's seat, making conversation +with him and Richard till the train began to move. Then he ran outside, +and waved his hand to the judge's window in farewell, before all that +leisure of Tuskingum which haunted the arrival and departure of the +trains. + +Mary Kenton was furious when her husband came home and reported the fact +to her. + +"How in the world did he find out when father was going?" + +"He must have come to all the through trains since he say him yesterday. +But I think even you would have been suited, Mary, if you had seen his +failure to walk off from the depot arm-in-arm with me: + +"I wouldn't have been suited with anything short of your knocking, him +down, Dick." + +"Oh, that wouldn't have done," said Richard. After a while he added, +patiently, "Ellen is making a good deal of trouble for us." + +This was what Mary was thinking herself, and it was what she might have +said, but since Dick had said it she was obliged to protest. "She isn't +to blame for it." + +"Oh, I know she isn't to blame." + + + + +V. + +The father of the unhappy girl was of the same mixed mind as he rode +sleeplessly back to New York in his berth, and heard the noises of +slumber all round him. From time to time he groaned softly, and turned +from one cheek to the other. Every half-hour or so he let his window- +curtain fly up, and lay watching the landscape fleeting past; and then he +pulled the curtain down again and tried to sleep. After passing Albany +he dozed, but at Poughkeepsie a zealous porter called him by mistake, and +the rest of the way to New York he sat up in the smoking-room. It seemed +a long while since he had drowsed; the thin nap had not rested him, and +the old face that showed itself in the glass, with the frost of a two +days' beard on it, was dry-eyed and limply squared by the fall of the +muscles at the corners of the chin. + +He wondered how he should justify to his wife the thing which he felt as +accountable for having happened to him as if he could have prevented it. +It would not have happened, of course, if he had not gone to Tuskingum, +and she could say that to him; now it seemed to him that his going, which +had been so imperative before he went, was altogether needless. Nothing +but harm had come of it, and it had been a selfish indulgence of a +culpable weakness. + +It was a little better for Kenton when he found himself with his family, +and they went down together to the breakfast which the mother had engaged +the younger children to make as pleasant as they could for their father, +and not worry him with talk about Tuskingum. They had, in fact, got over +their first season of homesickness, and were postponing their longing for +Tuskingum till their return from Europe, when they would all go straight +out there. Kenton ran the gauntlet of welcome from the black elevator- +boys and bell-boys and the head-waiter, who went before him to pull out +the judge's chair, with commanding frowns to his underlings to do the +like for the rest of the family; and as his own clumsy Irish waiter stood +behind his chair, breathing heavily upon the judge's head, he gave his +order for breakfast, with a curious sense of having got home again from +some strange place. He satisfied Boyne that his pigeons and poultry had +been well cared for through the winter, and he told Lottie that he had +not met much of anybody except Dick's family, before he recollected +seeing half a dozen of her young men at differed times. She was not very +exacting about them and her mind seemed set upon Europe, or at least she +talked of nothing else. Ellen was quiet as she always was, but she +smiled gently on her father, and Mrs. Kenton told him of the girl's +preparations for going, and congratulated herself on their wisdom in +having postponed their sailing, in view of all they had to do; and she +made Kenton feel that everything was in the best possible shape. As soon +as she got him alone in their own room, she said, "Well, what is it, +poppa?" + +Then he had to tell her, and she listened with ominous gravity. She did +not say that now he could see how much better it would have been if he +had not gone, but she made him say it for her; and she would not let him +take comfort in the notion of keeping the fact of his interview with +Bittridge from Ellen. "It would be worse than useless. He will write to +her about it, and then she will know that we have been, concealing it." + +Kenton was astonished at himself for not having thought of that. "And +what are you going to do, Sarah?" + +"I am going to tell her," said Mrs. Kenton. + +"Why didn't poppa tell me before?" the girl perversely demanded, as soon +as her another had done so. + +"Ellen, you are a naughty child! I have a great mind not to have a word +more to say to you. Your father hasn't been in the house an hour. Did +you want him to speak before Lottie and Boyne!" + +"I don't see why he didn't tell me himself. I know there is something +you are keeping back. I know there is some word--" + +"Oh, yon poor girl!" said her mother, melting into pity against all sense +of duty. "Have we ever tried to deceive you?" + +"No," Ellen sobbed, with her face in her hands. "Now I will tell you +every word that passed," said Mrs. Kenton, and she told, as well as she +could remember, all that the judge had repeated from Bittridge. "I don't +say he isn't ashamed of himself," she commented at the end. "He ought to +be, and, of course, he would be glad to be in with us again when we go +back; but that doesn't alter his character, Ellen. Still, if you can't +see that yourself, I don't want to make you, and if you would rather go +home to Tuskingum, we will give up the trip to Europe." + +"It's too late to do that now," said the girl, in cruel reproach. + +Her mother closed her lips resolutely till she could say, "Or you can +write to him if you want to." + +"I don't want to," said Ellen, and she dragged herself up out of her +chair, and trailed slowly out of the room without looking at her mother. + +"Well?" the judge asked, impatiently, when he came in as soon after this +as he decently could. They observed forms with regard to talking about +Ellen which, after all, were rather for themselves than for her; Mrs. +Kenton, at least, knew that the girl knew when they were talking about +her. + +"She took it as well as I expected." + +"What is she going to do?" + +"She didn't say. But I don't believe she will do anything." + +"I wish I had taken our tickets for next Saturday," said Kenton. + +"Well, we must wait now," said his wife. "If he doesn't write to her, +she won't write to him." + +"Has she ever answered that letter of his?" + +"No, and I don't believe she will now." + +That night Ellen came to her mother and said she need not be afraid of +her writing to Bittridge. "He hasn't changed, if he was wrong, by coming +and saying those things to poppa, and nothing has changed." + +"That is the way I hoped you would see it; Ellen." Her mother looked +wistfully at her, but the girl left her without letting her satisfy the +longing in the mother's heart to put her arms round her child, and pull +her head down upon her breast for a cry. + +Kenton slept better that night than his wife, who was kept awake by a +formless foreboding. For the week that followed she had the sense of +literally pushing the hours away, so that at times she found herself +breathless, as if from some heavy physical exertion. At such times she +was frantic with the wish to have the days gone, and the day of their +sailing come, but she kept her impatience from her husband and children, +and especially from Ellen. The girl was passive enough; she was almost +willing, and in the preparation for their voyage she did her share of the +shopping, and discussed the difficult points of this business with her +mother and sister as if she had really been thinking about it all. But +her mother doubted if she had, and made more of Ellen's sunken eyes and +thin face than of her intelligent and attentive words. It was these that +she reported to her husband, whom she kept from talking with Ellen, and +otherwise quelled. + +"Let her alone," she insisted, one morning of the last week. "What can +you do by speaking to her about it? Don't you see that she is making the +best fight she can? You will weaken her if you interfere. It's less +than a week now, and if you can only hold out, I know she can." + +Kenton groaned. "Well, I suppose you're right, Sarah. But I don't like +the idea of forcing her to go, unless--" + +"Then you had better write to that fellow, and ask him to come and get +her." + +This shut Kenton's mouth, and he kept on with his shaving. When he had +finished he felt fresher, if not stronger, and he went down to breakfast, +which he had alone, not only with reference to his own family, but all +the other guests of the hotel. He was always so early that sometimes the +dining-room was not open; when this happened, he used to go and buy a +newspaper at the clerk's desk, for it was too early then for the news- +stand to be open. It happened so that morning, and he got his paper +without noticing the young man who was writing his name in the hotel +register, but who looked briskly up when the clerk bade Kenton good- +morning by name. + +"Why, judge!" he said, and he put out a hand which Kenton took with +trembling reluctance and a dazed stare. "I thought you sailed last +Saturday!" + +"We sail next Saturday," said Kenton. + +"Well, well! Then I misunderstood," said Bittridge, and he added: "Why, +this is money found in the road! How are all the family? I've got my +mother here with me; brought her on for a kind of a little outing. +She'll be the most surprised woman in New York when I tell her you're +here yet. We came to this hotel because we knew you had been here, but +we didn't suppose you were here! Well! This is too good! I saw Dick, +Friday, but he didn't say anything about your sailing; I suppose he +thought I knew. Didn't you tell me you were going in a week, that day in +your house?" + +"Perhaps I did," Kenton faltered out, his eyes fixed on Bittridge's with +a helpless fascination. + +"Well, it don't matter so long as you're here. Mother's in the parlor +waiting for me; I won't risk taking you to her now, judge--right off the +train, you know. But I want to bring her to call on Mrs. Kenton as soon +after breakfast as you'll let me. She just idolizes Mrs. Kenton, from +what I've told her about her. Our rooms ready?" He turned to the clerk, +and the clerk called "Front!" to a bellboy, who ran up and took +Bittridge's hand-baggage, and stood waiting to follow him into the +parlor. "Well, you must excuse me now, judge. So long!" he said, gayly, +and Kenton crept feebly away to the dining-room. + +He must have eaten breakfast, but he was not aware of doing so; and the +events of his leaving the table and going up in the elevator and finding +himself in his wife's presence did not present themselves consecutively, +though they must all have successively occurred. It did not seem to him +that he could tell what he knew, but he found himself doing it, and her +hearing it with strange quiet. + +"Very well," she said. "I must tell Ellen, and, if she wishes, we must +stay in and wait for their call." + +"Yes," the judge mechanically consented. + +It was painful for Mrs. Kenton to see how the girl flushed when she +announced the fact of Bittridge's presence, for she knew what a strife of +hope and shame and pride there was in Ellen's heart. At first she said +that she did not wish to see him, and then when Mrs. Kenton would not say +whether she had better see him or not, she added, vaguely, "If he has +brought his mother--" + +"I think we must see them, Ellen. You wouldn't wish to think you had +been unkind; and he might be hurt on his mother's account. He seems +really fond of her, and perhaps--" + +"No, there isn't any perhaps, momma," said the girl, gratefully. "But I +think we had better see them, too. I think we had better ALL see them." + +"Just as you please, Ellen. If you prefer to meet them alone--" + +"I don't prefer that. I want poppa to be there, and Lottie and Boyne +even." + +Boyne objected when he was told that his presence was requested at this +family rite, and he would have excused himself if the invitation had been +of the form that one might decline. "What do I want to see him for?" he +puffed. "He never cared anything about me in Tuskingum. What's he want +here, anyway?" + +"I wish you to come in, my son," said his mother, and that ended it. + +Lottie was not so tractable. "Very well, momma," she said. "But don't +expect me to speak to him. I have some little self-respect, if the rest +of you haven't. Am I going to shake hands with him! I never took the +least notice of him at home, and I'm not going to here." + +Bittridge decided the question of hand-shaking for her when they met. He +greeted her glooming brother with a jolly "Hello, Boyne!" and without +waiting for the boy's tardy response he said "Hello, Lottie!" to the +girl, and took her hand and kept it in his while he made an elaborate +compliment to her good looks and her gain in weight. She had come +tardily as a proof that she would not have come in at all if she had not +chosen to do so, and Mrs. Bittridge was already seated beside Ellen on +the sofa, holding her hand, and trying to keep her mobile, inattentive +eyes upon Ellen's face. She was a little woman, youthfully dressed, but +not dressed youthfully enough for the dry, yellow hair which curled +tightly in small rings on her skull, like the wig of a rag-doll. Her +restless eyes were round and deep-set, with the lids flung up out of +sight; she had a lax, formless mouth, and an anxious smile, with which +she constantly watched her son for his initiative, while she recollected +herself from time to time, long enough to smooth Ellen's hand between her +own, and say, "Oh, I just think the world of Clarence; and I guess he +thinks his mother is about right, too," and then did not heed what Ellen +answered. + +The girl said very little, and it was Bittridge who talked for all, +dominating the room with a large, satisfied presence, in which the judge +sat withdrawn, his forehead supported on his hand, and his elbow on the +table. Mrs. Kenton held herself upright, with her hands crossed before +her, stealing a look now and then at her daughter's averted face, but +keeping her eyes from Mrs. Bittridge, who, whenever she caught Mrs. +Kenton's glance, said something to her about her Clarence, and how he +used to write home to her at Ballardsville about the Kentons, so that she +felt acquainted with all of them. Her reminiscences were perfunctory; +Mrs. Bittridge had voluntarily but one topic, and that was herself, +either as she was included in the interest her son must inspire, or as +she included him in the interest she must inspire. She said that, now +they had met at last, she was not going to rest till the Kentons had been +over to Ballardsville, and made her a good, long visit; her son had some +difficulty in making her realize that the Kentons were going to Europe. +Then she laughed, and said she kept forgetting; and she did wish they +were all coming back to Tuskingum. + +If it is a merit to treat a fatuous mother with deference, Bittridge had +that merit. His deference was of the caressing and laughing sort, which +took the spectator into the joke of her peculiarities as something they +would appreciate and enjoy with him. She had been a kittenish and petted +person in her youth, perhaps, and now she petted herself, after she had +long ceased to be a kitten. What was respectable and what was pathetic +in her was her wish to promote her son's fortunes with the Kentons, but +she tried to do this from not a very clear understanding of her part, +apparently, and little sense of the means. For Ellen's sake, rather than +hers, the father and mother received her overtures to their liking +kindly; they answered her patiently, and Mrs. Kenton even tried to lead +the way for her to show herself at her best, by talking of her journey on +to New York, and of the city, and what she would see there to interest +her. Lottie and Boyne, sternly aloof together in one of their momentary +alliances, listened to her replies with a silent contempt that almost +included their mother; Kenton bore with the woman humbly and sadly. + +He was, in fact, rather bewildered with the situation, for which he felt +himself remotely if not immediately responsible. Bittridge was there +among them not only on good terms, but apparently in the character of a +more than tolerated pretendant to Ellen's favor. There were passages of +time is which the father was not sure that the fellow was not engaged to +his daughter, though when these instants were gone he was aware that +there had been no overt love-making between them and Bittridge had never +offered himself. What was he doing there, then? The judge asked himself +that, without being able to answer himself. So far as he could make out, +his wife and he were letting him see Ellen, and show her off to his +mother, mainly to disgust her with them both, and because they were +afraid that if they denied her to him, it would be the worse for them +through her suffering. The judge was not accustomed to apply the tests +by which people are found vulgar or not; these were not of his simple +world; all that he felt about Mrs. Bittridge was that she was a very +foolish, false person, who was true in nothing but her admiration of her +rascal of a son; he did not think of Bittridge as a rascal violently, but +helplessly, and with a heart that melted in pity for Ellen. + +He longed to have these people gone, not so much because he was so +unhappy in their presence as because he wished to learn Ellen's feeling +about them from his wife. She would know, whether Allen said anything to +her or not. But perhaps if Mrs. Kenton had been asked to deliver her +mind on this point at once she would have been a little puled. All that +she could see, and she saw it with a sinking of the heart, was that Ellen +looked more at peace than she had been since Bittridge was last in their +house at Tuskingum. Her eyes covertly followed him as he sat talking, or +went about the room, making himself at home among them, as if he were +welcome with every one. He joked her more than the rest, and accused her +of having become a regular New-Yorker; he said he supposed that when she +came back from Europe she would not know anybody in Tuskingum; and his +mother, playing with Ellen's fingers, as if they had been the fringe of a +tassel, declared that she must not mind him, for he carried on just so +with everybody; at the same time she ordered him to stop, or she would go +right out of the room. + +She gave no other sign of going, and it was her son who had to make the +movement for her at last; she apparently did not know that it was her +part to make it. She said that now the Kentons must come and return her +call, and be real neighborly, just the same as if they were all at home +together. When her son shook hands with every one she did so too, and +she said to each, "Well, I wish you good-morning," and let him push her +before him, in high delight with the joke, out of the room. + +When they were gone the Kentons sat silent, Ellen with a rapt smile on +her thin, flushed face, till Lottie said, "You forgot to ask him if we +might BREATHE, poppa," and paced out of the room in stately scorn, +followed by Boyne, who had apparently no words at the command of his dumb +rage. Kenton wished to remain, and he looked at his wife for +instruction. She frowned, and he took this for a sign that he had better +go, and he went with a light sigh. + +He did not know what else to do with himself, and he went down to the +reading-room. He found Bittridge there, smoking a cigar, and the young +man companionably offered to bestow one upon him; but the judge stiffly +refused, saying he did not wish to smoke just then. He noted that +Bittridge was still in his character of family favorite, and his hand +trembled as he passed it over the smooth knob of his stick, while he sat +waiting for the fellow to take himself away. But Bittridge had +apparently no thought of going. He was looking at the amusements for the +evening in a paper he had bought, and he wished to consult the judge as +to which was the best theatre to go to that night; he said he wanted to +take his mother. Kenton professed not to know much about the New York +theatres, and then Bittridge guessed he must get the clerk to tell him. +But still he did not part with the judge. He sat down beside him, and +told him how glad he was to see his family looking so well, especially +Miss Ellen; he could not remember ever seeing her so strong-looking. He +said that girl had captured his mother, who was in love with pretty much +the whole Kenton family, though. + +"And by-the-way," he added, "I want to thank you and Mrs. Kenton, judge, +for the way you received my mother. You made her feel that she was among +friends. She can't talk about anything else, and I guess I sha'n't have +much trouble in making her stay in New York as long as you're here. She +was inclined to be homesick. The fact is, though I don't care to have it +talked about yet, and I wish you wouldn't say anything to Dick about it +when you write home, I think of settling in New York. I've been offered +a show in the advertising department of one of the big dailies--I'm not +at liberty to say which--and it's a toss-up whether I stay here or go to +Washington; I've got a chance there, too, but it's on the staff of a new +enterprise, and I'm not sure about it. I've brought my mother along to +let her have a look at both places, though she doesn't know it, and I'd +rather you wouldn't speak of it before her; I'm going to take her on to +Washington before we go back. I want to have my mother with me, judge. +It's better for a fellow to have that home-feeling in a large place from +the start; it keeps him out of a lot of things, and I don't pretend to be +better than other people, or not more superhuman. If I've been able to +keep out of scrapes, it's more because I've had my mother near me, and I +don't intend ever to be separated from her, after this, till I have a +home of my own. She's been the guiding-star of my life." + +Kenton was unable to make any formal response, and, in fact, he was so +preoccupied with the question whether the fellow was more a fool or a +fraud that he made no answer at all, beyond a few inarticulate grumblings +of assent. These sufficed for Bittridge, apparently, for he went on +contentedly: "Whenever I've been tempted to go a little wild, the thought +of how mother would feel has kept me on the track like nothing else +would. No, judge, there isn't anything in this world like a good mother, +except the right kind of a wife." + +Kenton rose, and said he believed he must go upstairs. Bittridge said, +"All right; I'll see you later, judge," and swung easily off to advise +with the clerk as to the best theatre. + + + + +VI. + +Kenton was so unhappy that he could not wait for his wife to come to him +in their own room; he broke in upon her and Ellen in the parlor, and at +his coming the girl flitted out, in the noiseless fashion which of late +had made her father feel something ghostlike in her. He was afraid she +was growing to dislike him, and trying to avoid him, and now he presented +himself quite humbly before his wife, as if he had done wrong in coming. +He began with a sort of apology for interrupting, but his wife said it +was all right, and she added, "We were not talking about anything in +particular." She was silent, and then she added again: "Sometimes I +think Ellen hasn't very fine perceptions, after all. She doesn't seem to +feel about people as I supposed she would." + +"You mean that she doesn't feel as you would suppose about those people?" + +Mrs. Kenton answered, obliquely. "She thinks it's a beautiful thing in +him to be so devoted to his mother." + +"Humph! And what does she think of his mother?" + +"She thinks she has very pretty hair." + +Mrs. Kenton looked gravely down at the work she had in her hands, and +Kenton did not know what to make of it all. He decided that his wife +must feel, as he did, a doubt of the child's sincerity, with sense of her +evasiveness more tolerant than his own. Yet he knew that if it came to a +question of forcing Ellen to do what was best for her, or forbidding her +to do what was worst, his wife would have all the strength for the work, +and he none. He asked her, hopelessly enough, "Do you think she still +cares for him?" + +"I think she wishes to give him another trial; I hope she will." Kenton +was daunted, and he showed it. "She has got to convince herself, and we +have got to let her. She believes, of course, that he's here on her +account, and that flatters her. Why should she be so different from +other girls?" Mrs. Kenton demanded of the angry protest in her husband's +eye. + +His spirit fell, and he said, "I only wish she were more like them." + +"Well, then, she is just as headstrong and as silly, when it comes to a +thing like this. Our only hope is to let her have her own way." + +"Do you suppose he cares for her, after all?" + +Mrs. Kenton was silent, as if in exhaustive self-question. Then she +answered: "No, I don't in that way. But he believes he can get her." + +"Then, Sarah, I think we have a duty to the poor child. You must tell +her what you have told me." + +Mrs. Kenton smiled rather bitterly, in recognition of the fact that the +performance of their common duty must fall wholly to her. But she merely +said: "There is no need of my telling her. She knows it already." + +"And she would take him in spite of knowing that he didn't really care +for her?" + +"I don't say that. She wouldn't own it to herself." + +"And what are you going to do?" + +"Nothing. We must let things take their course." + +They had a great deal more talk that came to the same end. They played +their sad comedy, he in the part of a father determined to save his child +from herself, and she in hers of resisting and withholding him. It ended +as it had so often ended before--he yielded, with more faith in her +wisdom than she had herself. + +At luncheon the Bittridges could not join the Kentons, or be asked to do +so, because the table held only four, but they stopped on their way to +their own table, the mother to bridle and toss in affected reluctance, +while the son bragged how he had got the last two tickets to be had that +night for the theatre where he was going to take his mother. He seemed +to think that the fact had a special claim on the judge's interest, and +she to wish to find out whether Mrs. Kenton approved of theatre-going. +She said she would not think of going in Ballardsville, but she supposed +it was more rulable in New York. + +During the afternoon she called at the Kenton apartment to consult the +ladies about what she ought to wear. She said she had nothing but a +black 'barege' along, and would that do with the hat she had on? She had +worn it to let them see, and now she turned her face from aide to side to +give them the effect of the plumes, that fell like a dishevelled feather- +duster round and over the crown. Mrs. Kenton could only say that it +would do, but she believed that it was the custom now for ladies to take +their hats off in the theatre. + +Mrs. Bittridge gave a hoarse laugh. "Oh, dear! Then I'll have to fix my +hair two ways? I don't know what Clarence WILL say." + +The mention of her son's name opened the way for her to talk of him in +relation to herself, and the rest of her stay passed in the celebration +of his filial virtues, which had been manifest from the earliest period. +She could not remember that she ever had to hit the child a lick, she +said, or that he had ever made her shed a tear. + +When she went, Boyne gloomily inquired, "What makes her hair so much +darker at the roots than it is at the points?" and his mother snubbed him +promptly. + +"You had no business to be here, Boyne. I don't like boys hanging about +where ladies are talking together, and listening." + +This did not prevent Lottie from answering, directly for Boyne, and +indirectly for Ellen, "It's because it's begun to grow since the last +bleach." + +It was easier to grapple with Boyne than with Lottie, and Mrs. Kenton +was willing to allow her to leave the room with her brother unrebuked. +She was even willing to have had the veil lifted from Mrs. Bittridge's +hair with a rude hand, if it world help Ellen. + +"I don't want you to think, momma," said the girl, "that I didn't know +about her hair, or that I don't see how silly she is. But it's all the +more to his credit if he can be so good to her, and admire her. Would +yon like him better if he despised her?" + +Mrs. Kenton felt both the defiance and the secret shame from which it +sprang in her daughter's words; and she waited for a moment before she +answered, "I would like to be sure he didn't!" + +"If he does, and if he hides it from her, it's the same as if he didn't; +it's better. But you all wish to dislike him." + +"We don't wish to dislike him, Ellen, goodness knows. But I don't think +he would care much whether we disliked him or not. I am sure your poor +father and I would be only too glad to like him." + +"Lottie wouldn't," said Ellen, with a resentment her mother found +pathetic, it was so feeble and aimless. + +"Lottie doesn't matter," she said. She could not make out how nearly +Ellen was to sharing the common dislike, or how far she would go in +fortifying herself against it. She kept with difficulty to her negative +frankness, and she let the girl leave the room with a fretful sigh, as if +provoked that her mother would not provoke her further. There were +moments when Mrs. Kenton believed that Ellen was sick of her love, and +that she would pluck it out of her heart herself if she were left alone. +She was then glad Bittridge had come, so that Ellen might compare with +the reality the counterfeit presentment she had kept in her fancy; and +she believed that if she could but leave him to do his worst, it would be +the best for Ellen. + +In the evening, directly after dinner, Bittridge sent up his name for +Mrs. Kenton. The judge had remained to read his paper below, and Lottie +and Boyne had gone to some friends in another apartment. It seemed to +Mrs. Kenton a piece of luck that she should be able to see him alone, and +she could not have said that she was unprepared for him to come in, +holding his theatre-tickets explanatorily in his hand, or surprised when +he began: + +"Mrs. Kenton, my mother's got a bad headache, and I've come to ask a +favor of you. She can't use her ticket for to-night, and I want you to +let Miss Ellen come with me. Will you?" + +Bittridge had constituted himself an old friend of the whole family from +the renewal of their acquaintance, and Mrs. Kenton was now made aware of +his being her peculiar favorite, in spite of the instant repulsion she +felt, she was not averse to what he proposed. Her fear was that Ellen +would be so, or that she could keep from influencing her to this test of +her real feeling for Bittridge. "I will ask her, Mr. Bittridge," she +said, with a severity which was a preliminary of the impartiality she +meant to use with Ellen. + +"Well, that's right," he answered, and while she went to the girl's room +he remained examining the details of the drawing-room decorations in easy +security, which Mrs. Kenton justified on her return. + +"Ellen will be ready to go with you, Mr. Bittridge." + +"Well, that's good," said the young man, and while he talked on she sat +wondering at a nature which all modesty and deference seemed left out of, +though he had sometimes given evidence of his intellectual appreciation +of these things. He talked to Mrs. Kenton not only as if they were in +every-wise equal, but as if they were of the same age, almost of the same +sex. + +Ellen came in, cloaked and hatted, with her delicate face excited in +prospect of the adventure; and her mother saw Bittridge look at her with +more tenderness than she had ever seen in him before. "I'll take good +care of her, Mrs. Kenton," he said, and for the first time she felt +herself relent a little towards him. + +A minute after they were gone Lottie bounced into the room, followed by +Boyne. + +"Momma!" she shouted, "Ellen isn't going to the theatre with that +fellow?" + +"Yes, she is." + +"And you let her, momma! Without a chaperon?" + +Boyne's face had mirrored the indignation in his sister's, but at this +unprecedented burst of conventionality he forgot their momentary +alliance. "Well, you're a pretty one to talk about chaperons! Walking +all over Tuskingum with fellows at night, and going buggy-riding with +everybody, and out rowing, and here fairly begging Jim Plumpton to come +down to the steamer and see you off again!" + +"Shut up!" Lottie violently returned, "or I'll tell momma how you've +been behaving with Rita Plumpton yourself." + +"Well, tell!" Boyne defied her. + +"Oh, it don't matter what a brat of a boy says or does, anyway," said +Lottie. "But I think Ellen is disgracing the family. Everybody in the +hotel is laughing at that wiggy old Mrs. Bittridge, with her wobbly eyes, +and they can see that he's just as green! The Plumptons have been +laughing so about them, and I told them that we had nothing to do with +them at home, and had fairly turned Bittridge out of the house, but he +had impudence enough for anything; and now to find Ellen going off to the +theatre with him alone!" + +Lottie began to cry with vexation as she whipped out of the room, and +Boyne, who felt himself drawn to her side again, said, very seriously: +"Well, it ain't the thing in New York, you know, momma; and anybody can +see what a jay Bittridge is. I think it's too bad to let her." + +"It isn't for you to criticise your mother, Boyne," said Mrs. Kenton, but +she was more shaken than she would allow. Her own traditions were so +simple that the point of etiquette which her children had urged had not +occurred to her. The question whether Ellen should go with Bittridge at +all being decided, she would, of course, go in New York as she would go +in Tuskingum. Now Mrs. Kenton perceived that she must not, and she had +her share of humiliation in the impression which his mother, as her +friend, apparently, was making with her children's acquaintances in the +hotel. If they would think everybody in Tuskingum was like her, it would +certainly be very unpleasant, but she would not quite own this to +herself, still less to a fourteen-year-old boy. "I think what your +father and I decide to be right will be sufficient excuse for you with +your friends." + +"Does father know it?" Boyne asked, most unexpectedly. + +Having no other answer ready, Mrs. Kenton said, "You had better go to +bed, my son." + +"Well," he grumbled, as he left the room, "I don't know where all the +pride of the Kentons is gone to." + +In his sense of fallen greatness he attempted to join Lottie in her room, +but she said, "Go away, nasty thing!" and Boyne was obliged to seek his +own room, where he occupied himself with a contrivance he was inventing +to enable you to close your door and turn off your gas by a system of +pulleys without leaving your bed, when you were tired of reading. + +Mrs. Kenton waited for her husband in much less comfort, and when he +came, and asked, restlessly, "Where are the children?" she first told +him that Lottie and Boyne were in their rooms before she could bring +herself to say that Ellen had gone to the theatre with Bittridge. + +It was some relief to have him take it in the dull way he did, and to say +nothing worse than, "Did you think it was well to have her!" + +"You may be sure I didn't want her to. But what would she have said if I +had refused to let her go? I can tell you it isn't an easy matter to +manage her in this business, and it's very easy for you to criticise, +without taking the responsibility." + +"I'm not criticising," said Kenton. "I know you have acted for the best." + +"The children," said Mrs. Kenton, wishing to be justified further, "think +she ought to have had a chaperon. I didn't think of that; it isn't the +custom at home; but Lottie was very saucy about it, and I had to send +Boyne to bed. I don't think our children are very much comfort to us." + +"They are good children," Kenton said, said--provisionally. + +"Yes, that is the worst of it. If they were bad, we wouldn't expect any +comfort from them. Ellen is about perfect. She's as near an angel as a +child can be, but she could hardly have given us more anxiety if she had +been the worst girl in the world." + +"That's true," the father sadly assented. + +"She didn't really want to go with him to-night, I'll say that for her, +and if I had said a single word against it she wouldn't have gone. But +all at once, while she sat there trying to think how I could excuse her, +she began asking me what she should wear. There's something strange +about it, Rufus. If I believed in hypnotism, I should say she had gone +because he willed her to go." + +"I guess she went because she wanted to go because she's in love with +him," said Kenton, hopelessly. + +"Yes," Mrs. Kenton agreed. "I don't see how she can endure the sight of +him. He's handsome enough," she added, with a woman's subjective logic. +"And there's something fascinating about him. He's very graceful, and +he's got a good figure." + +"He's a hound!" said Kenton, exhaustively. + +"Oh yes, he's a hound," she sighed, as if there could be no doubt on that +point. "It don't seem right for him to be in the same room with Ellen. +But it's for her to say. I feel more and more that we can't interfere +without doing harm. I suppose that if she were not so innocent herself +she would realize what he was better. But I do think he appreciates her +innocence. He shows more reverence for her than for any one else." + +"How was it his mother didn't go?" asked Kenton. + +"She had a headache, he said. But I don't believe that. He always +intended to get Ellen to go. And that's another thing Lottie was vexed +about; she says everybody is laughing at Mrs. Bittridge, and it's +mortifying to have people take her for a friend of ours." + +"If there were nothing worse than that," said Kenton, "I guess we could +live through it. Well, I don't know how it's going to all end." + +They sat talking sadly, but finding a certain comfort in their mutual +discouragement, and in their knowledge that they were doing the best they +could for their child, whose freedom they must not infringe so far as to +do what was absolutely best; and the time passed not so heavily till her +return. This was announced by the mounting of the elevator to their +landing, and then by low, rapid pleading in a man's voice outside. +Kenton was about to open the door, when there came the formless noise of +what seemed a struggle, and Ellen's voice rose in a muffed cry: "Oh! Oh! +Let me be! Go away! I hate you!" Kenton the door open, and Ellen burst +in, running to hide her face in her mother's breast, where she sobbed +out, "He--he kissed me!" like a terrified child more than an insulted +woman. Through the open door came the clatter of Bittridge's feet as he +ran down-stairs. + + + + +VII. + +When Mrs. Kenton came from quieting the hysterical girl in her room she +had the task, almost as delicate and difficult, of quieting her husband. +She had kept him, by the most solemn and exhaustive entreaty, from +following Bittridge downstairs and beating him with his stick, and now +she was answerable to him for his forbearance. "If yon don't behave +yourself, Rufus," she had to say, "you will have some sort of stroke. +After all, there's no harm done." + +"No harm! Do you call it no harm for that hound to kiss Ellen?" + +"He wouldn't have attempted it unless something had led up to it, I +suppose." + +"Sarah! How can you speak so of that angel?" + +"Oh, that angel is a girl like the rest. You kissed me before we were +engaged." + +"That was very different." + +"I don't see how. If your daughter is so sacred, why wasn't her mother? +You men don't think your wives are sacred. That's it!" + +"No, no, Sarah! It's because I don't think of you as apart from myself, +that I can't think of you as I do of Ellen. I beg your pardon if I +seemed to set her above you. But when I kissed you we were very young, +and we lived in a simple day, when such things meant no harm; and I was +very fond of you, and you were the holiest thing in the world to me. Is +Ellen holy to that fellow?" + +"I know," Mrs. Kenton relented. "I'm not comparing him to you. And +there is a difference with Ellen. She isn't like other girls. If it had +been Lottie--" + +"I shouldn't have liked it with Lottie, either," said the major, stiffly. +"But if it had been Lottie she would have boxed his ears for him, instead +of running to you. Lottie can take care of herself. And I will take +care of Ellen. When I see that scoundrel in the morning--" + +"What will you do, an old man like you! I can tell you, it's something +you've just got to bear it if you don't want the scandal to fill the +whole hotel. It's a very fortunate thing, after all. It'll put an end +to the whole affair." + +"Do you think so, Sarah? If I believed that. What does Ellen say?" + +"Nothing; she won't say anything--just cries and hides her face. +I believe she is ashamed of having made a scene before us. But I know +that she's so disgusted with him that she will never look at him again, +and if it's brought her to that I should think his kissing her the +greatest blessing in the world to us all. Yes, Ellen!" + +Mrs. Kenton hurried off at a faint call from the girl's room, and when +she came again she sat down to a long discussion of the situation with +her husband, while she slowly took down her hair and prepared it for the +night. Her conclusion, which she made her husband's, was that it was +most fortunate they should be sailing so soon, and that it was the +greatest pity they were not sailing in the morning. She wished him to +sleep, whether she slept herself or not, and she put the most hopeful +face possible upon the matter. "One thing you can rest assured of, +Rufus, and that is that it's all over with Ellen. She may never speak to +you about him, and you mustn't ever mention him, but she feels just as +you could wish. Does that satisfy you? Some time I will tell you all +she says." + +"I don't care to hear," said Kenton. "All I want is for him to keep away +from me. I think if he spoke to me I should kill him." + +"Rufus!" + +"I can't help it, Sarah. I feel outraged to the bottom of my soul. I +could kill him." + +Mrs. Kenton turned her head and looked steadfastly at him over her +shoulder. "If you strike him, if you touch him, Mr. Kenton, you will +undo everything that the abominable wretch has done for Ellen, and you +will close my mouth and tie my hands. Will you promise that under no +provocation whatever will you do him the least harm? I know Ellen better +than you do, and I know that you will make her hate you unless--" + +"Oh, I will promise. You needn't be afraid. Lord help me!" Kenton +groaned. "I won't touch him. But don't expect me to speak to him." + +"No, I don't expect that. He won't offer to speak to you." + +They slept, and in the morning she stayed to breakfast with Ellen in +their apartment, and let her husband go down with their younger children. +She could trust him now, whatever form his further trial should take, and +he felt that he was pledging himself to her anew, when Bittridge came +hilariously to meet him in the reading-room, where he went for a paper +after breakfast. + +"Ah, judge!" said the young man, gayly. "Hello, Boyne!" he added to +the boy, who had come with his father; Lottie had gone directly up-stairs +from the breakfast-room. "I hope you're all well this morning? Play not +too much for Miss Ellen?" + +Kenton looked him in the face without answering, and then tried to get +away from him, but Bittridge followed him up, talking, and ignoring his +silence. + +"It was a splendid piece, judge. You must take Mrs. Kenton. I know +you'll both like it. I haven't ever seen Miss Ellen so interested. I +hope the walk home didn't fatigue her. I wanted to get a cab, but she +would walk: The judge kept moving on, with his head down. He did not +speak, and Bittridge was forced to notice his silence. "Nothing the +matter, I hope, with Miss Ellen, judge?" + +"Go away," said the judge, in a low voice, fumbling the head of his +stick. + +"Why, what's up?" asked Bittridge, and he managed to get in front of +Kenton and stay him at a point where Kenton could not escape. It was a +corner of the room to which the old man had aimlessly tended, with no +purpose but to avoid him: + +"I wish you to let me alone, sir," said Kenton at last. "I can't speak +to you." + +"I understand what you mean, judge," said Bittridge, with a grin, all the +more maddening because it seemed involuntary. "But I can explain +everything. I just want a few words with you. It's very important; it's +life or death with me, sir," he said, trying to look grave. "Will you +let me go to your rooms with you?" + +Kenton made no reply. + +Bittridge began to laugh. "Then let's sit down here, or in the ladies' +parlor. It won't take me two minutes to make everything right. If you +don't believe I'm in earnest I know you don't think I am, but I can +assure you--Will you let me speak with you about Miss Ellen?" + +Still Kenton did not answer, shutting his lips tight, and remembering his +promise to his wife. + +Bittridge laughed, as if in amusement at what he had done. "Judge, let +me say two words to you in private! If you can't now, tell me when you +can. We're going back this evening, mother and I are; she isn't well, +and I'm not going to take her to Washington. I don't want to go leaving +you with the idea that I wanted to insult Miss Ellen. I care too much +for her. I want to see you and Mrs. Kenton about it. I do, indeed. And +won't you let me see you, somewhere?" + +Kenton looked away, first to one side and then to another, and seemed +stifling. + +"Won't you speak to me! Won't you answer me? See here! I'd get down on +my knees to you if it would do you any good. Where will you talk with +me?" + +"Nowhere!" shouted Kenton. "Will you go away, or shall I strike you +with my stick?" + +"Oh, I don't think," said Bittridge, and suddenly, in the wantonness of +his baffled effrontery, he raised his hand and rubbed the back of it in +the old man's face. + +Boyne Kenton struck wildly at him, and Bittridge caught the boy by the +arm and flung him to his knees on the marble floor. The men reading in +the arm-chairs about started to their feet; a porter came running, and +took hold of Bittridge. "Do you want an officer, Judge Kenton?" he +panted. + +"No, no!" Kenton answered, choking and trembling. "Don't arrest him. +I wish to go to my rooms, that's all. Let him go. Don't do anything +about it." + +"I'll help you, judge," said the porter. "Take hold of this fellow," he +said to two other porters who came up. "Take him to the desk, and tell +the clerk he struck Judge Kenton, but the judge don't want him arrested." + +Before Kenton reached the elevator with Boyne, who was rubbing his knees +and fighting back the tears, he heard the clerk's voice saying, formally, +to the porters, "Baggage out of 35 and 37" and adding, as mechanically, +to Bittridge: "Your rooms are wanted. Get out of them at once!" + +It seemed the gathering of neighborhood about Kenton, where he had felt +himself so unfriended, against the outrage done him, and he felt the +sweetness of being personally championed in a place where he had thought +himself valued merely for the profit that was in him; his eyes filled, +and his voice failed him in thanking the elevator-boy for running before +him to ring the bell of his apartment. + + + + +VIII. + +The next day, in Tuskingum, Richard, Kenton found among the letters of +his last mail one which he easily knew to be from his sister Lottie, by +the tightly curled-up handwriting, and by the unliterary look of the +slanted and huddled address of the envelope: The only doubt he could have +felt in opening it was from the unwonted length at which she had written +him; Lottie usually practised a laconic brevity in her notes, which were +suited to the poverty of her written vocabulary rather than the affluence +of her spoken word. + + "Dear Dick" [her letter ran, tripping and stumbling in its course], + "I have got to tell you about something that has just happened here, + and you needent laugh at the speling, or the way I tell it, but just + pay attention to the thing itself, if you please. That disgusting + Bittridge has been here with his horrid wiggy old mother, and momma + let him take Ellen to the theatre. On the way home he tried to make + her promise she would marry him and at the door he kissed her. They + had an awful night with her hiseterics, and I heard momma going in + and out, and trying to comfort her till daylight, nearly. In the + morning I went down with poppy and Boyne to breakfast, and after I + came up, father went to the reading-room to get a paper, and that + Bittridge was there waiting for him, and wanted to speak with him + about Ellen. Poppa wouldent say a word to him, and he kept + following poppa up, to make him. Boyne says be wouldent take no for + an ansir, and hung on and hungon, till poppa threatened to hitt him + with his cane. Then he saw it was no use, and he took his hand and + rubbed it in poppa's face, and Boyne believes he was trying to pull + poppa's nose. Boyne acted like I would have done; he pounded + Bittridge in the back; but of course Bittridge was too strong for + him, and threw him on the floor, and Boyne scraped his knee so that + it bledd. Then the porters came up, and caught Bittridge, and + wanted to send for a policeman, but father wouldent let them, and + the porters took Bittridge to the desk and the clerk told him to get + out instantly and they left as soon as old Wiggy could get her + things on. I don't know where they went, but he told poppa they + were going home to-day any way. Now, Dick, I don't know what you + will want to do, and I am not going to put you up to anything, but I + know what I would do, pretty well, the first time Bittridge showed + himself in Tuskingum. You can do just as you please, and I don't + ask you to believe me if you're think I'm so exciteable that I cant + tell the truth. I guess Boyne will say the same. Much love to + Mary. Your affectionate sister, + "Lottie. + + "P. S.--Every word Lottie says is true, but I am not sure he meant + to pull his nose. The reason why he threw me down so easily is, I + have grown about a foot, and I have not got up my strength. BOYNE. + + "This is strictly confidential. They don't know we + are writing. LATTIE." + + +After reading this letter, Richard Kenton tore it into small pieces, so +that there should not be even so much witness as it bore to facts that +seemed to fill him with fury to the throat. His fury was, in agreement +with his temperament, the white kind and cold kind. He was able to keep +it to himself for that reason; at supper his wife knew merely that he had +something on his mind that he did not wish to talk of; and experience had +taught her that it would be useless to try making him speak. + +He slept upon his wrath, and in the morning early, at an hour when he +knew there would be no loafers in the place, he went to an out-dated +saddler's shop, and asked the owner, a veteran of his father's regiment, +"Welks, do you happen to have a cowhide among your antiquities?" + +"Regular old style?" Welks returned. "Kind they make out of a cow's +hide and use on a man's?" + +"Something of that sort," said Richard, with a slight smile. + +The saddler said nothing more, but rummaged among the riff-raff on an +upper shelf. He got down with the tapering, translucent, wicked-looking +thing in his hand. "I reckon that's what you're after, squire." + +"Reckon it is, Welks," said Richard, drawing it through his tubed left +hand. Then he buttoned it under his coat, and paid the quarter which +Welks said had always been the price of a cowhide even since he could +remember, and walked away towards the station. + +"How's the old colonel" Welks called after him, having forgotten to ask +before. + +"The colonel's all right," Richard called back, without looking round. + +He walked up and down in front of the station. A local train came in +from Ballardsville at 8.15, and waited for the New York special, and then +returned to Ballardsville. Richard had bought a ticket for that station, +and was going to take the train back, but among the passengers who +descended from it when it drew in was one who saved him the trouble of +going. + +Bittridge, with his overcoat hanging on his arm, advanced towards him +with the rest, and continued to advance, in a sort of fascination, after +his neighbors, with the instinct that something was about to happen, +parted on either side of Richard, and left the two men confronted. +Richard did not speak, but deliberately reached out his left hand, which +he caught securely into Bittridge's collar; then he began to beat him +with the cowhide wherever he could strike his writhing and twisting +shape. Neither uttered a word, and except for the whir of the cowhide in +the air, and the rasping sound of its arrest upon the body of Bittridge, +the thing was done in perfect silence. The witnesses stood well back in +a daze, from which they recovered when Richard released Bittridge with a +twist of the hand that tore his collar loose and left his cravat +dangling, and tossed the frayed cowhide away, and turned and walked +homeward. Then one of them picked up Bittridge's hat and set it aslant +on his head, and others helped pull his collar together and tie his +cravat. + +For the few moments that Richard Kenton remained in sight they scarcely +found words coherent enough for question, and when they did, Bittridge +had nothing but confused answers to give to the effect that he did not +know what it meant, but he would find out. He got into a hack and had +himself driven to his hotel, but he never made the inquiry which he +threatened. + +In his own house Richard Kenton lay down awhile, deadly sick, and his +wife had to bring him brandy before he could control his nerves +sufficiently to speak. Then he told her what he had done, and why, and +Mary pulled off his shoes and put a hot-water bottle to his cold feet. +It was not exactly the treatment for a champion, but Mary Kenton was not +thinking of that, and when Richard said he still felt a little sick at +the stomach she wanted him to try a drop of camphor in addition to the +brandy. She said he must not talk, but she wished him so much to talk +that she was glad when he began. + +"It seemed to be something I had to do, Mary, but I would give anything +if I had not been obliged to do it: + +"Yes, I know just how you feel, Dick, and I think it's pretty hard this +has come on you. I do think Ellen might--" + +"It wasn't her fault, Mary. You mustn't blame her. She's had more to +bear than all the rest of us." Mary looked stubbornly unconvinced, and +she was not moved, apparently, by what he went on to say. "The thing now +is to keep what I've done from making more mischief for her." + +"What do you mean, Dick? You don't believe he'll do anything about it, +do you?" + +"No, I'm not afraid of that. His mouth is shut. But you can't tell how +Ellen will take it. She may side with him now." + +"Dick! If I thought Ellen Kenton could be such a fool as that!" + +"If she's in love with him she'll take his part." + +"But she can't be in love with him when she knows how he acted to your +father!" + +"We can't be sure of that. I know how he acted to father; but at this +minute I pity him so that I could take his part against father. And I +can understand how Ellen--Anyway, I must make a clean breast of it. +What day is this Thursday? And they sail Saturday! I must write--" + +He lifted himself on his elbow, and made as if to throw off the shawl she +had spread upon him. + +"No, no! I will write, Dick! I will write to your mother. What shall I +say?" She whirled about, and got the paper and ink out of her writing- +desk, and sat down near him to keep him from getting up, and wrote the +date, and the address, "Dear Mother Kenton," which was the way she always +began her letters to Mrs. Kenton, in order to distinguish her from her +own mother. "Now what shall I say?" + +"Simply this," answered Richard. "That I knew of what had happened in +New York, and when I met him this morning I cowhided him. Ugh!" + +"Well, that won't do, Dick. You've got to tell all about it. Your +mother won't understand." + +"Then you write what you please, and read it to me. It makes me sick to +think of it." Richard closed his eyes, and Mary wrote: + + "DEAR MOTHER KENTON,--I am sitting by Richard, writing at his + request, about what he has done. He received a letter from New York + telling him of the Bittridges' performances there, and how that + wretch had insulted and abused you all. He bought a cowhide; + meaning to go over to Ballardsville, and use it on him there, but B. + came over on the Accommodation this morning, and Richard met him at + the station. He did not attempt to resist, for Richard took him + quite by surprise. Now, Mother Kenton, you know that Richard + doesn't approve of violence, and the dear, sweet soul is perfectly + broken-down by what he had to do. But he had to do it, and he + wishes you to know at, once that he did it. He dreads the effect + upon Ellen, and we must leave it to your judgment about telling her. + Of course, sooner or later she must find it out. You need not be + alarmed about Richard. He is just nauseated a little, and he will + be all right as soon as his stomach is settled. He thinks you ought + to have this letter before you sail, and with affectionate good-byes + to all, in which Dick joins, + "Your loving daughter, + "Mary KENTON." + +"There! Will that do?" + +"Yes, that is everything that can be said," answered Richard, and Mary +kissed him gratefully before sealing her letter. + +"I will put a special delivery on it," she said, and her precaution +availed to have the letter delivered to Mrs. Kenton the evening the +family left the hotel, when it was too late to make any change in their +plans, but in time to give her a bad night on the steamer, in her doubt +whether she ought to let the family go, with this trouble behind them. + +But she would have had a bad night on the steamer in any case, with the +heat, and noise, and smell of the docks; and the steamer sailed with her +at six o'clock the next morning with the doubt still open in her mind. +The judge had not been of the least use to her in helping solve it, and +she had not been able to bring herself to attack Lottie for writing to +Richard. She knew it was Lottie who had made the mischief, but she could +not be sure that it was mischief till she knew its effect upon Ellen. +The girl had been carried in the arms of one of the stewards from the +carriage to her berth in Lottie's room, and there she had lain through +the night, speechless and sleepless. + + + + +IX. + +Ellen did not move or manifest any consciousness when the steamer left +her dock and moved out into the stream, or take any note of the tumult +that always attends a great liner's departure. At breakfast-time her +mother came to her from one of the brief absences she made, in the hope +that at each turn she should find her in a different mood, and asked if +she would not have something to eat. + +"I'm not hungry," she answered. "When will it sail?" + +"Why, Ellen! We sailed two hours ago, and the pilot has just left us." + +Ellen lifted herself on her elbow and stared at her. "And you let me!" +she said, cruelly. + +"Ellen! I will not have this!" cried her mother, frantic at the +reproach. "What do you mean by my letting you? You knew that we were +going to sail, didn't you? What else did you suppose we had come to the +steamer for?" + +"I supposed you would let me stay, if I wanted to: But go away, momma, go +away! You're all against me--you, and poppa, and Lottie, and Boyne. Oh, +dear! oh, dear!" She threw herself down in her berth and covered her +face with the sheet, sobbing, while her mother stood by in an anguish of +pity and anger. She wanted to beat the girl, she wanted to throw herself +upon her, and weep with her in the misery which she shared with her. + +Lottie came to the door of the state-room with an arm-load of long- +stemmed roses, the gift of the young Mr. Plumpton, who had not had so +much to be entreated to come down to the steamer and see her off as Boyne +had pretended. "Momma," she said, "I have got to leave these roses in +here, whether Ellen likes it or not. Boyne won't have them in his room, +because he says the man that's with him would have a right to object; and +this is half my room, anyway." + +Mrs. Kenton frowned and shook her head, but Ellen answered from under the +sheet, "I don't mind the roses, Lottie. I wish you'd stay with me a +little while." + +Lottie hesitated, having in mind the breakfast for which the horn had +just sounded. But apparently she felt that one good turn deserved +another, and she answered: "All right; I will, Nell. Momma, you tell +Boyne to hurry, and come to Ellen as soon as he's done, and then I will +go. Don't let anybody take my place." + +"I wish," said Ellen, still from under the sheet, "that momma would have +your breakfast sent here. I don't want Boyne." + +Women apparently do not require any explanation of these swift +vicissitudes in one another, each knowing probably in herself the nerves +from which they proceed. Mrs. Kenton promptly assented, in spite of the +sulky reluctance which Lottie's blue eyes looked at her; she motioned her +violently to silence, and said: "Yes, I will, Ellen. I will send +breakfast for both of you." + +When she was gone, Ellen uncovered her face and asked Lottie to dip a +towel in water and give it to her. As she bathed her eyes she said, +"You don't care, do you, Lottie?" + +"Not very much," said Lottie, unsparingly. I can go to lunch, I +suppose." + +"Maybe I'll go to lunch with you," Ellen suggested, as if she were +speaking of some one else. + +Lottie wasted neither sympathy nor surprise on the question. "Well, +maybe that would be the best thing. Why don't you come to breakfast?" + +"No, I won't go to breakfast. But you go." + +When Lottie joined her family in the dining-saloon she carelessly +explained that Ellen had said she wanted to be alone. Before the young +man, who was the only other person besides the Kentons at their table, +her mother could not question her with any hope that the bad would not be +made worse, and so she remained silent. Judge Kenton sat with his eyes +fixed on his plate, where as yet the steward had put no breakfast for +him; Boyne was supporting the dignity of the family in one of those +moments of majesty from which he was so apt to lapse into childish +dependence. Lottie offered him another alternative by absently laying +hold of his napkin on the table. + +"That's mine," he said, with husky gloom. + +She tossed it back to him with prompt disdain and a deeply eye-lashed +glance at a napkin on her right. The young man who sat next it said, +with a smile, "Perhaps that's yours-unless I've taken my neighbor's." + +Lottie gave him a stare, and when she had sufficiently punished him for +his temerity said, rather sweetly, "Oh, thank you," and took the napkin. + +"I hope we shall all have use for them before long," the young man +ventured again. + +"Well, I should think as much," returned the girl, and this was the +beginning of a conversation which the young man shared successively with +the judge and Mrs. Kenton as opportunity offered. He gave the judge his +card across the table, and when the judge had read on it, "Rev. Hugh +Breckon," he said that his name was Kenton, and he introduced the young +man formally to his family. Mr. Breckon had a clean-shaven face, with an +habitual smile curving into the cheeks from under a long, straight nose; +his chin had a slight whopper-jaw twist that was charming; his gay eyes +were blue, and a full vein came down his forehead between them from his +smooth hair. When he laughed, which was often, his color brightened. + +Boyne was named last, and then Mr. Breckon said, with a smile that showed +all his white teeth, "Oh yes, Mr. Boyne and I are friends already--ever +since we found ourselves room-mates," and but for us, as Lottie +afterwards noted, they might never have known Boyne was rooming with him, +and could easily have made all sorts of insulting remarks about Mr. +Breckon in their ignorance. + +The possibility seemed to delight Mr. Breckon; he invited her to make all +the insulting remarks she could think of, any way, and professed himself +a loser, so far as her real opinion was withheld from him by reason of +his rashness in giving the facts away. In the electrical progress of +their acquaintance she had begun walking up and down the promenade with +him after they came up from breakfast; her mother had gone to Ellen; the +judge had been made comfortable in his steamer-chair, and Boyne had been +sent about his business. + +"I will try to think some up," she promised him, "as soon as I HAVE any +real opinion of you," and he asked her if he might consider that a +beginning. + +She looked at him out of her indomitable blue eyes, and said, "If it +hadn't been for your card, and the Reverend on it, I should have said you +were an actor." + +"Well, well," said Mr. Breckon, with a laugh, perhaps I am, in a way. +I oughtn't to be, of course, but if a minister ever forces himself, I +suppose he's acting." + +"I don't see," said Lottie, instantly availing herself of the opening, +"how you can get up and pray, Sunday after Sunday, whether you feel like +it or not." + +The young man said, with another laugh, but not so gay, "Well, the case +has its difficulties." + +"Or perhaps you just read prayers," Lottie sharply conjectured. + +"No," he returned, "I haven't that advantage--if you think it one. +I'm a sort of a Unitarian. Very advanced, too, I'm afraid." + +"Is that a kind of Universalist?" + +"Not--not exactly. There's an old joke--I'm not sure it's very good-- +which distinguishes between the sects. It's said that the Universalists +think God is too good to damn them, and the Unitarians think they are too +good to be damned." Lottie shrank a little from him. "Ah!" he cried, +"you think it sounds wicked. Well, I'm sorry. I'm not clerical enough +to joke about serious things." + +He looked into her face with a pretended anxiety. "Oh, I don't know," +she said, with a little scorn. "I guess if you can stand it, I can." + +"I'm not sure that I can. I'm afraid it's more in keeping with an +actor's profession than my own. Why," he added, as if to make a +diversion, "should you have thought I was an actor?" + +"I suppose because you were clean-shaved; and your pronunciation. So +Englishy." + +"Is it? Perhaps I ought to be proud. But I'm not an Englishman. I am a +plain republican American. May I ask if you are English?" + +"Oh!" said Lottie. "As if you thought such a thing. We're from Ohio." + +Mr. Breckon said, "Ah!" Lottie could not make out in just what sense. + +By this time they were leaning on the rail of the promenade, looking over +at what little was left of Long Island, and she said, abruptly: "I think +I will go and see how my father is getting along." + +"Oh, do take me with you, Miss Kenton!" Mr: Breckon entreated. "I am +feeling very badly about that poor old joke. I know you don't think well +of me for it, and I wish to report what I've been saying to your father, +and let him judge me. I've heard that it's hard to live up to Ohio +people when you're at your best, and I do hope you'll believe I have not +been quite at my best. Will you let me come with you?" + +Lottie did not know whether he was making fun of her or not, but she +said, "Oh, it's a free country," and allowed him to go with her. + +His preface made the judge look rather grave; but when he came to the +joke, Kenton laughed and said it was not bad. + +"Oh, but that isn't quite the point," said Mr. Breckon. "The question is +whether I am good in repeating it to a young lady who was seeking serious +instruction on a point of theology." + +"I don't know what she would have done with the instruction if she had +got it," said the judge, dryly, and the young man ventured in her behalf: + +"It would be difficult for any one to manage, perhaps." + +"Perhaps," Kenton assented, and Lottie could see that he was thinking +Ellen would know what to do with it. + +She resented that, and she was in the offence that girls feel when their +elders make them the subject of comment with their contemporaries. +"Well, I'll leave you to discuss it alone. I'm going to Ellen," she +said, the young man vainly following her a few paces, with apologetic +gurgles of laughter. + +"That's right," her father consented, and then he seized the opening to +speak about Ellen. "My eldest daughter is something of an invalid, but I +hope we shall have her on deck before the voyage is over. She is more +interested in those matters than her sister." + +"Oh!" Mr. Breckon interpolated, in a note of sympathetic interest. He +could not well do more. + +It was enough for Judge Kenton, who launched himself upon the celebration +of Ellen's gifts and qualities with a simple-hearted eagerness which he +afterwards denied when his wife accused him of it, but justified as +wholly safe in view of Mr. Breckon's calling and his obvious delicacy of +mind. It was something that such a person would understand, and Kenton +was sure that he had not unduly praised the girl. A less besotted parent +might have suspected that he had not deeply interested his listener, who +seemed glad of the diversion operated by Boyne's coming to growl upon his +father, "Mother's bringing Ellen up." + +"Oh, then, I mustn't keep your chair," said the minister, and he rose +promptly from the place he had taken beside the judge, and got himself +away to the other side of the ship before the judge could frame a fitting +request for him to stay. + +"If you had," Mrs. Kenton declared, when he regretted this to her, +"I don't know what I would have done. It's bad enough for him to hear +you bragging about the child without being kept to help take care of her, +or keep her amused, as you call it. I will see that Ellen is kept amused +without calling upon strangers." She intimated that if Kenton did not +act with more self-restraint she should do little less than take Ellen +ashore, and abandon him to the voyage alone. Under the intimidation he +promised not to speak of Ellen again. + +At luncheon, where Mr. Breckon again devoted himself to Lottie, he and +Ellen vied in ignoring each other after their introduction, as far as +words went. The girl smiled once or twice at what he was saying to her +sister, and his glance kindled when it detected her smile. He might be +supposed to spare her his conversation in her own interest, she looked so +little able to cope with the exigencies of the talk he kept going. + +When he addressed her she answered as if she had not been listening, and +he turned back to Lottie. After luncheon he walked with her, and their +acquaintance made such a swift advance that she was able to ask him if he +laughed that way with everybody. + +He laughed, and then he begged her pardon if he had been rude. + +"Well, I don't see what there is to laugh at so much. When you ask me a +thing I tell you just what I think, and it seems to set you off in a +perfect gale. Don't you expect people to say what they think?" + +"I think it's beautiful," said the young man, going into the gale, +and I've got to expecting it of you, at any rate. But--but it's always +so surprising! It isn't what you expect of people generally, is it?" + +"I don't expect it of you," said Lottie. + +"No?" asked Mr. Breckon, in another gale. "Am I so uncandid?" + +"I don't know about uncandid. But I should say you were slippery." + +At this extraordinary criticism the young man looked graver than he had +yet been able to do since the beginning of their acquaintance. He said, +presently, "I wish you would explain what you mean by slippery." + +"You're as close as a trap!" + +"Really?" + +"It makes me tired." + +"If you're not too tired now I wish you would say how." + +"Oh, you understand well enough. You've got me to say what I think about +all sorts of things, and you haven't expressed your opinion on a single, +solitary point?" + +Lottie looked fiercely out to sea, turning her face so as to keep him +from peering around into it in the way he had. For that reason, perhaps, +he did not try to do so. He answered, seriously: "I believe you are +partly right. I'm afraid I haven't seemed quite fair. Couldn't you +attribute my closeness to something besides my slipperiness?" He began +to laugh again. "Can't you imagine my being interested in your opinions +so much more than my own that I didn't care to express mine?" + +Lottie said, impatiently, "Oh, pshaw!" She had hesitated whether to say, +"Rats!" + +"But now," he pursued, "if you will suggest some point on which I can +give you an opinion, I promise solemnly to do so," but he was not very +solemn as he spoke. + +"Well, then, I will," she said. "Don't yon think it's very strange, to +say the least, for a minister to be always laughing so much?" + +Mr. Breckon gave a peal of delight, and answered, "Yes, I certainly do." +He controlled himself so far as to say: "Now I think I've been pretty +open with you, and I wish you'd answer me a question. Will you?" + +"Well, I will--one," said Lottie. + +"It may be two or three; but I'll begin with one. Why do you think a +minister ought to be more serious than other men?" + +"Why? Well, I should think you'd know. You wouldn't laugh at a funeral, +would you?" + +"I've been at some funerals where it would have been a relief to laugh, +and I've wanted to cry at some weddings. But you think it wouldn't do?" + +"Of course it wouldn't. I should think you'd know as much as that," said +Lottie, out of patience with him. + +"But a minister isn't always marrying or burying people; and in the, +intervals, why shouldn't he be setting them an example of harmless +cheerfulness?" + +"He ought to be thinking more about the other world, I should say." + +"Well, if he believes there is another world--" + +"Why! Don't you?" she broke out on him. + +Mr. Breckon ruled himself and continued--"as strenuously and +unquestionably as he ought, he has greater reason than other men for +gayety through his faith in a happier state of being than this. That's +one of the reasons I use against myself when I think of leaving off +laughing. Now, Miss Kenton," he concluded, "for such a close and +slippery nature, I think I've been pretty frank," and he looked round and +down into her face with a burst of laughter that could be heard an the +other side of the ship. He refused to take up any serious topic after +that, and he returned to his former amusement of making her give herself +away. + +That night Lottie came to her room with an expression so decisive in her +face that Ellen, following it with vague, dark eyes as it showed itself +in the glass at which her sister stood taking out the first dismantling +hairpins before going to bed, could not fail of something portentous in +it. + +"Well," said Lottie, with severe finality, "I haven't got any use for +THAT young man from this time out. Of all the tiresome people, he +certainly takes the cake. You can have him, Ellen, if you want him." + +"What's the matter with him?" asked Ellen, with a voice in sympathy with +the slow movement of her large eyes as she lay in her berth, staring at +Lottie. + +"There's everything the matter, that oughtn't to be. He's too trivial +for anything: I like a man that's serious about one thing in the +universe, at least, and that's just what Mr. Breckon isn't." She went at +such length into his disabilities that by the time she returned to the +climax with which she started she was ready to clamber into the upper +berth; and as she snapped the electric button at its head she repeated, +"He's trivial." + +"Isn't it getting rough?" asked Ellen. "The ship seems to be tipping." + +"Yes, it is," said Lottie, crossly. "Good-night." + +If the Rev. Mr. Breckon was making an early breakfast in the hope of +sooner meeting Lottie, who had dismissed him the night before without +encouraging him to believe that she wished ever to see him again, he was +destined to disappointment. The deputation sent to breakfast by the +paradoxical family whose acquaintance he had made on terms of each +forbidding intimacy, did not include the girl who had frankly provoked +his confidence and severely snubbed it. He had left her brother very +sea-sick in their state-room, and her mother was reported by her father +to be feeling the motion too much to venture out. The judge was, in +fact, the only person at table when Breckon sat down; but when he had +accounted for his wife's absence, and confessed that he did not believe +either of his daughters was coming, Ellen gainsaid him by appearing and +advancing quite steadily along the saloon to the place beside him. It +had not gone so far as this in the judge's experience of a neurotic +invalid without his learning to ask her no questions about herself. He +had always a hard task in refraining, but he had grown able to refrain, +and now he merely looked unobtrusively glad to see her, and asked her +where Lottie was. + +"Oh, she doesn't want any breakfast, she says. Is momma sick, too? +Where's Boyne?" + +The judge reported as to her mother, and Mr. Breckon, after the exchange +of a silent salutation with the girl, had a gleeful moment in describing +Boyne's revolt at the steward's notion of gruel. "I'm glad to see you so +well, Miss Kenton," he concluded. + +"I suppose I will be sick, too, if it gets rougher," she said, and she +turned from him to give a rather compendious order to the table steward. + +"Well, you've got an appetite, Ellen," her father ventured. + +"I don't believe I will eat anything," she checked him, with a falling +face. + +Breckon came to the aid of the judge. "If you're not sick now, I +prophesy you won't be, Miss Kenton. It can't get much rougher, without +doing something uncommon." + +"Is it a storm?" she asked, indifferently. + +"It's what they call half a gale, I believe. I don't know how they +measure it." + +She smiled warily in response to his laugh, and said to her father, "Are +you going up after breakfast, poppa?" + +"Why, if you want to go, Ellen--" + +"Oh, I wasn't asking for that; I am going back to Lottie. But I should +think you would like the air. Won't it do you good?" + +"I'm all right," said the judge, cheered by her show of concern for some +one else. "I suppose it's rather wet on deck?" he referred himself to +Breckon. + +"Well, not very, if you keep to the leeward. She doesn't seem a very wet +boat." + +"What is a wet boat" Ellen asked, without lifting her sad eyes. + +"Well, really, I'm afraid it's largely a superstition. Passengers like +to believe that some boats are less liable to ship seas--to run into +waves--than others; but I fancy that's to give themselves the air of old +travellers." + +She let the matter lapse so entirely that he supposed she had forgotten +it in all its bearings, when she asked, "Have you been across many +times?" + +"Not many-four or five." + +"This is our first time," she volunteered. + +"I hope it won't be your last. I know you will enjoy it." She fell +listless again, and Breckon imagined he had made a break. "Not," he +added, with an endeavor for lightness, "that I suppose you're going for +pleasure altogether. Women, nowadays, are above that, I understand. +They go abroad for art's sake, and to study political economy, and +history, and literature--" + +"My daughter," the judge interposed, "will not do much in that way, I +hope." + +The girl bent her head over her plate and frowned. + +"Oh, then," said Breckon, "I will believe that she's going for purely +selfish enjoyment. I should like to be justified in making that my +object by a good example." + +Ellen looked up and gave him a look that cut him short in his glad note. +The lifting of her eyelids was like the rise of the curtain upon some +scene of tragedy which was all the more impressive because it seemed +somehow mixed with shame. This poor girl, whom he had pitied as an +invalid, was a sufferer from some spiritual blight more pathetic than +broken health. He pulled his mind away from the conjecture that tempted +it and went on: "One of the advantages of going over the fourth or fifth +time is that you're relieved from a discoverer's duties to Europe. I've +got absolutely nothing before me now, but at first I had to examine every +object of interest on the Continent, and form an opinion about thousands +of objects that had no interest for me. I hope Miss Kenton will take +warning from me." + +He had not addressed Ellen directly, and her father answered: "We have no +definite plans as yet, but we don't mean to overwork ourselves even if +we've come for a rest. I don't know," he added, "but we had better spend +our summer in England. It's easier getting about where you know the +language." + +The judge seemed to refer his ideas to Breckon for criticism, and the +young man felt authorized to say, "Oh, so many of them know the language +everywhere now, that it's easy getting about in any country." + +"Yes, I suppose so," the judge vaguely deferred. + +"Which," Ellen demanded of the young man with a nervous suddenness, "do +you think is the most interesting country?" + +He found himself answering with equal promptness, "Oh, Italy, of course." + +"Can we go to Italy, poppa?" asked the girl. + +"I shouldn't advise you to go there at once" Breckon intervened, smiling. +"You'd find it Pretty hot there now. Florence, or Rome, or Naples"--you +can't think of them." + +"We have it pretty hot in Central Ohio," said the judge, with latent +pride in his home climate, "What sort of place is Holland?" + +"Oh, delightful! And the boat goes right on to Rotterdam, you know." + +"Yes. We had arranged to leave it at Boulogne," but we could change. +Do you think your mother would like Holland?" The judge turned to his +daughter. + +"I think she would like Italy better. She's read more about it," said +the girl. + +"Rise of the Dutch Republic," her father suggested. + +"Yea, I know. But she's read more about Italy!" + +"Oh, well," Breckon yielded, "the Italian lakes wouldn't be impossible. +And you might find Venice fairly comfortable." + +"We could go to Italy, then," said the judge to his daughter, "if your +mother prefers." + +Breckon found the simplicity of this charming, and he tasted a yet finer +pleasure in the duplicity; for he divined that the father was seeking +only to let his daughter have her way in pretending to yield to her +mother's preference. + +It was plain that the family's life centred, as it ought, about this sad, +sick girl, the heart of whose mystery he perceived, on reflection, he had +not the wish to pluck out. He might come to know it, but he would not +try to know it; if it offered itself he might even try not to know it. +He had sometimes found it more helpful with trouble to be ignorant of its +cause. + +In the mean time he had seen that these Kentons were sweet, good people, +as he phrased their quality to himself. He had come to terms of +impersonal confidence the night before with Boyne, who had consulted him +upon many more problems and predicaments of life than could have yet +beset any boy's experience, probably with the wish to make provision for +any possible contingency of the future. The admirable principles which +Boyne evolved for his guidance from their conversation were formulated +with a gravity which Breckon could outwardly respect only by stifling his +laughter in his pillow. He rather liked the way Lottie had tried to +weigh him in her balance and found him, as it were, of an imponderable +levity. With his sense of being really very light at most times, and +with most people, he was aware of having been particularly light with +Lottie, of having been slippery, of having, so far as responding to her +frankness was concerned, been close. He relished the unsparing honesty +with which she had denounced him, and though he did not yet know his +outcast condition with relation to her, he could not think of her without +a smile of wholly disinterested liking. He did not know, as a, man of +earlier date would have known, all that the little button in the judge's +lapel meant; but he knew that it meant service in the civil war, a +struggle which he vaguely and impersonally revered, though its details +were of much the same dimness for him as those of the Revolution and the +War of 1812. The modest distrust which had grown upon the bold self- +confidence of Kenton's earlier manhood could not have been more tenderly +and reverently imagined; and Breckon's conjecture of things suffered for +love's sake against sense and conviction in him were his further tribute +to a character which existed, of course, mainly in this conjecture. It +appeared to him that Kenton was held not only in the subjection to his +wife's, judgment, which befalls, and doubtless becomes, a man after many +years of marriage, but that he was in the actual performance of more than +common renunciation of his judgment in deference to the good woman. She +in turn, to be sure, offered herself a sacrifice to the whims of the sick +girl, whose worst whim was having no wish that could be ascertained, and +who now, after two days of her mother's devotion, was cast upon her own +resources by the inconstant barometer. It had become apparent that Miss +Kenton was her father's favorite in a special sense, and that his partial +affection for her was of much older date than her mother's. Not less +charming than her fondness for her father was the openness with which she +disabled his wisdom because of his partiality to her. + + + + +X + +When they left the breakfast table the first morning of the rough +weather, Breckon offered to go on deck with Miss Kenton, and put her +where she could see the waves. That had been her shapeless ambition, +dreamily expressed with reference to some time, as they rose. Breckon +asked, "Why not now?" and he promised to place her chair on deck where +she could enjoy the spectacle safe from any seas the boat might ship. +Then she recoiled, and she recoiled the further upon her father's +urgence. At the foot of the gangway she looked wistfully up the reeling +stairs, and said that she saw her shawl and Lottie's among the others +solemnly swaying from the top railing. "Oh, then," Breckon pressed her, +"you could be made comfortable without the least trouble." + +"I ought to go and see how Lottie is getting along," she murmured. + +Her father said he would see for her, and on this she explicitly +renounced her ambition of going up. "You couldn't do anything," she +said, coldly. + +"If Miss Lottie is very sea-sick she's beyond all earthly aid," Breckon +ventured. "She'd better be left to the vain ministrations of the +stewardess." + +Ellen looked at him in apparent distrust of his piety, if not of his +wisdom. "I don't believe I could get up the stairs," she said. + +"Well," he admitted, "they're not as steady as land--going stairs." Her +father discreetly kept silence, and, as no one offered to help her, she +began to climb the crazy steps, with Breckon close behind her in latent +readiness for her fall. + +From the top she called down to the judge, "Tell momma I will only stay a +minute." But later, tucked into her chair on the lee of the bulkhead, +with Breckon bracing himself against it beside her, she showed no +impatience to return. "Are they never higher than that" she required of +him, with her wan eyes critically on the infinite procession of the +surges. + +"They must be," Breckon answered, "if there's any truth in common report. +I've heard of their running mountains high. Perhaps they used rather low +mountains to measure them by. Or the measurements may not have been very +exact. But common report never leaves much to the imagination." + +"That was the way at Niagara," the girl assented; and Breckon obligingly +regretted that he had never been there. He thought it in good taste that +she should not tell him he ought to go. She merely said, "I was there +once with poppa," and did not press her advantage. "Do they think," she +asked, "that it's going to be a very long voyage?" + +"I haven't been to the smoking-room--that's where most of the thinking is +done on such points; the ship's officers never seem to know about it-- +since the weather changed. Should you mind it greatly?" + +"I wouldn't care if it never ended," said the girl, with such a note of +dire sincerity that Breckon instantly changed his first mind as to her +words implying a pose. She took any deeper implication from them in +adding, "I didn't know I should like being at sea." + +"Well, if you're not sea-sick," he assented, "there are not many +pleasanter things in life." + +She suggested, "I suppose I'm not well enough to be sea-sick." Then she +seemed to become aware of something provisional in his attendance, and +she said, "You mustn't stay on my account. I can get down when I want +to." + +"Do let me stay," he entreated, "unless you'd really rather not," and as +there was no chair immediately attainable, he crouched on the deck beside +hers. + +"It makes me think," she said, and he perceived that she meant the sea, +"of the cold-white, heavy plunging foam in 'The Dream of Fair Women.' +The words always seemed drenched!" + +"Ah, Tennyson, yes," said Breckon, with a disposition to smile at the +simple-heartedness of the literary allusion. "Do young ladies read +poetry much in Ohio?" + +"I don't believe they do," she answered. "Do they anywhere?" + +"That's one of the things I should like to know. Is Tennyson your +favorite poet?" + +"I don't believe I have any," said Ellen. "I used to like Whither, and +Emerson; aid Longfellow, too." + +"Used to! Don't you now?" + +"I don't read them so much now," and she made a pause, behind which he +fancied her secret lurked. But he shrank from knowing it if he might. + +"You're all great readers in your family," he suggested, as a polite +diversion. + +"Lottie isn't," she answered, dreamily. "She hates it." + +"Ah, I referred more particularly to the others," said Breckon, and he +began to laugh, and then checked himself. "Your mother, and the judge-- +and your brother--" + +"Boyne reads about insects," she admitted. + +"He told me of his collection of cocoons. He seems to be afraid it has +suffered in his absence." + +"I'm afraid it has," said Ellen, and then remained silent. + +"There!" the young man broke out, pointing seaward. "That's rather a +fine one. Doesn't that realize your idea of something mountains high? +Unless your mountains are very high in Ohio!" + +"It is grand. And the gulf between! But we haven't any in our part. +It's all level. Do you believe the tenth wave is larger than the rest?" + +"Why, the difficulty is to know which the tenth wave is, or when to begin +counting." + +"Yes," said the girl, and she added, vaguely: "I suppose it's like +everything else in that. We have to make-believe before we can believe +anything." + +"Something like an hypothesis certainly seems necessary," Breckon +assented, with a smile for the gravity of their discourse. "We shouldn't +have the atomic theory without it." She did not say anything, and he +decided that the atomic theory was beyond the range of her reading. +He tried to be more concrete. "We have to make-believe in ourselves +before we can believe, don't we? And then we sometimes find we are +wrong!" He laughed, but she asked, with tragical seriousness: + +"And what ought you to do when you find out you are mistaken in +yourself?" + +"That's what I'm trying to decide," he replied. "Sometimes I feel like +renouncing myself altogether; but usually I give myself another chance. +I dare say if I hadn't been so forbearing I might have agreed with your +sister about my unfitness for the ministry." + +"With Lottie?" + +"She thinks I laugh too much!" + +"I don't see why a minister shouldn't laugh if he feels like it. And if +there's something to laugh at." + +"Ah, that's just the point! Is there ever anything to laugh at? If we +looked closely enough at things, oughtn't we rather to cry?" He laughed +in retreat from the serious proposition. "But it wouldn't do to try +making each other cry instead of laugh, would it? I suppose your sister +would rather have me cry." + +"I don't believe Lottie thought much about it," said Ellen; and at this +point Mr. Breckon yielded to an impulse. + +"I should think I had really been of some use if I had made you laugh, +Miss Kenton." + +"Me?" + +"You look as if you laughed with your whole heart when you did laugh." + +She glanced about, and Breckon decided that she had found him too +personal. "I wonder if I could walk, with the ship tipping so?" she +asked. + +"Well, not far," said Breckon, with a provisional smile, and then he was +frightened from his irony by her flinging aside her wraps and starting to +her feet. Before he could scramble to his own, she had slid down the +reeling promenade half to the guard, over which she seemed about to +plunge. He hurled himself after her; he could not have done otherwise; +and it was as much in a wild clutch for support as in a purpose to save +her that he caught her in his arms and braced himself against the ship's +slant. "Where are you going? What are you trying to do?" he shouted. + +"I wanted to go down-stairs," she protested, clinging to him. + +"You were nearer going overboard," he retorted. "You shouldn't have +tried." He had not fully formulated his reproach when the ship righted +herself with a counter-roll and plunge, and they were swung staggering +back together against the bulkhead. The door of the gangway was within +reach, and Breckon laid hold of the rail beside it and put the girl +within. "Are you hurt?" he asked. + +"No, no; I'm not hurt," she panted, sinking on the cushioned benching +where usually rows of semi-sea-sick people were lying. + +"I thought you might have been bruised against the bulkhead," he said. +"Are you sure you're not hurt that I can't get you anything? From the +steward, I mean?" + +"Only help me down-stairs," she answered. "I'm perfectly well," and +Breckon was so willing on these terms to close the incident that he was +not aware of the bruise on his own arm, which afterwards declared itself +in several primitive colors. "Don't tell them," she added. "I want to +come up again." + +"Why, certainly not," he consented; but Boyne Kenton, who had been an +involuntary witness of the fact from a point on the forward promenade, +where he had stationed himself to study the habits of the stormy petrel +at a moment so favorable to the acquaintance of the petrel (having left +a seasick bed for the purpose), was of another mind. He had been +alarmed, and, as it appeared in the private interview which he demanded +of his mother, he had been scandalized. + +"It is bad enough the way Lottie is always going on with fellows. And +now, if Ellen is going to begin!" + +" But, Boyne, child," Mrs. Kenton argued, in an equilibrium between the +wish to laugh at her son and the wish to box his ears, "how could she +help his catching her if he was to save her from pitching overboard?" + +"That's just it! He will always think that she did it just so he would +have to catch her." + +"I don't believe any one would think that of Ellen," said Mrs. Kenton, +gravely. + +"Momma! You don't know what these Eastern fellows are. There are so few +of them that they're used to having girls throw themselves at them, and +they will think anything, ministers and all. You ought to talk to Ellen, +and caution her. Of course, she isn't like Lottie; but if Lottie's been +behaving her way with Mr. Breckon, he must suppose the rest of the family +is like her." + +"Boyne," said his mother, provisionally, "what sort of person is Mr. +Breckon?" + +"Well, I think he's kind of frivolous." + +"Do you, Boyne?" + +"I don't suppose he means any harm by it, but I don't like to see a +minister laugh so much. I can't hardly get him to talk seriously about +anything. And I just know he makes fun of Lottie. I don't mean that he +always makes fun with me. He didn't that night at the vaudeville, where +I first saw him." + +"What do you mean?" + +"Don't you remember? I told you about it last winter." + +"And was Mr. Breckon that gentleman?" + +"Yes; but he didn't know who I was when we met here." + +"Well, upon my word, Boyne, I think you might have told us before," said +his mother, in not very definite vexation. "Go along, now!" + +Boyne stood talking to his mother, with his hands, which he had not grown +to, largely planted on the jambs of her state-room door. She was keeping +her berth, not so much because she was sea-sick as because it was the +safest place in the unsteady ship to be in. "Do you want me to send +Ellen to you!" + +"I will attend to Ellen, Boyne," his mother snubbed him. "How is +Lottie?" + +"I can't tell whether she's sick or not. I went to see about her and she +motioned me away, and fairly screamed when I told her she ought to keep +out in the air. Well, I must be going up again myself, or--" + +Before lunch, Boyne had experienced the alternative which he did not +express, although his theory and practice of keeping in the open air +ought to have rendered him immune. Breckon saw his shock of hair, and +his large eyes, like Ellen's in their present gloom, looking out of it on +the pillow of the upper berth, when he went to their room to freshen +himself for the luncheon, and found Boyne averse even to serious +conversation: He went to lunch without him. None of the Kentons were at +table, and he had made up his mind to lunch alone when Ellen appeared, +and came wavering down the aisle to the table. He stood up to help her, +but seeing how securely she stayed herself from chair to chair he sank +down again. + +"Poppy is sick, too, now," she replied, as if to account for being alone. + +"And you're none the worse for your little promenade?" The steward came +to Breckon's left shoulder with a dish, and after an effort to serve +himself from it he said, with a slight gasp, "The other side, please." +Ellen looked at him, but did not speak, and he made haste to say: "The +doctor goes so far as to admit that its half a gale. I don't know just +what measure the first officer would have for it. But I congratulate you +on a very typical little storm, Miss Kenton; perfectly safe, but very +decided. A great many people cross the Atlantic without anything half as +satisfactory. There is either too much or too little of this sort of +thing." He went on talking about the weather, and had got such a +distance from the point of beginning that he had cause to repent being +brought back to it when she asked: + +"Did the doctor think, you were hurt?" + +"Well, perhaps I ought to be more ashamed than I am," said Breckon. +"But I thought I had better make sure. And it's only a bruise--" + +"Won't you let ME help you!" she asked, as another dish intervened at his +right. "I hurt you." + +Breckon laughed at her solemn face and voice. "If you'll exonerate +yourself first," he answered: "I couldn't touch a morsel that conveyed +confession of the least culpability on your part. Do you consent? +Otherwise, I pass this dish. And really I want some!" + +"Well," she sadly consented, and he allowed her to serve his plate. + +"More yet, please," he said. "A lot!" + +"Is that enough?" + +"Well, for the first helping. And don't offer to cut it up for me! My +proud spirit draws the line at cutting up. Besides, a fork will do the +work with goulash." + +"Is that what it is?" she asked, but not apparently because she cared to +know. + +"Unless you prefer to naturalize it as stew. It seems to have come in +with the Hungarian bands. I suppose you have them in--" + +"Tuskingum? No, it is too small. But I heard them at a restaurant in +New York where my brother took us." + +"In the spirit of scientific investigation? It's strange how a common +principle seems to pervade both the Hungarian music and cooking--the same +wandering airs and flavors--wild, vague, lawless harmonies in both. Did +you notice it?" + +Ellen shook her head. The look of gloom which seemed to Breckon habitual +in it came back into her face, and he had a fantastic temptation to see +how far he could go with her sad consciousness before she should be aware +that he was experimenting upon it. He put this temptation from him, and +was in the enjoyment of a comfortable self-righteousness when it returned +in twofold power upon him with the coming of some cutlets which +capriciously varied the repast. + +"Ah, now, Miss Kenton, if you were to take pity on my helplessness!" + +"Why, certainly!" She possessed herself of his plate, and began to cut +up the meat for him. "Am I making the bites too small?" she asked, with +an upward glance at him. + +"Well, I don't know. Should you think so?" he returned, with a smile +that out-measured the morsels on the plate before her. + +She met his laughing eyes with eyes that questioned his honesty, at first +sadly, and then indignantly. She dropped the knife and fork upon the +plate and rose. + +"Oh, Miss Kenton!" he penitently entreated. + +But she was down the slanting aisle and out of the reeling door before he +could decide what to do. + + + + +XI. + +It seemed to Breckon that he had passed through one of those accessions +of temperament, one of those crises of natural man, to put it in the +terms of an older theology than he professed, that might justify him in +recurring to his original sense of his unfitness for his sacred calling, +as he would hardly ham called it: He had allowed his levity to get the +better of his sympathy, and his love of teasing to overpower that love of +helping which seemed to him his chief right and reason for being a +minister: To play a sort of poor practical joke upon that melancholy girl +(who was also so attractive) was not merely unbecoming to him as a +minister; it was cruel; it was vulgar; it was ungentlemanly. He could +not say less than ungentlemanly, for that seemed to give him the only +pang that did him any good. Her absolute sincerity had made her such an +easy prey that he ought to have shrunk from the shabby temptation in +abhorrence. + +It is the privilege of a woman, whether she wills it or not, to put a man +who is in the wrong concerning her much further in the wrong than he +could be from his offence. Breckon did not know whether he was suffering +more or less because he was suffering quite hopelessly, but he was sure +that he was suffering justly, and he was rather glad, if anything, that +he must go on suffering. His first impulse had been to go at once to +Judge Kenton and own his wrong, and take the consequences--in fact, +invite them. But Breckon forbore for two reasons: one, that he had +already appeared before the judge with the confession of having possibly +made an unclerical joke to his younger daughter; the other, that the +judge might not consider levity towards the elder so venial; and though +Breckon wished to be both punished and pardoned, in the final analysis, +perhaps, he most wished to be pardoned. Without pardon he could see no +way to repair the wrong he had done. Perhaps he wished even to retrieve +himself in the girl's eyes, or wished for the chance of trying. + +Ellen went away to her state-room and sat down on the sofa opposite +Lottie, and she lost herself in a muse in which she was found by the +voice of the sufferer in the berth. + +"If you haven't got anything better to do than come in here and stare at +me, I wish you would go somewhere else and stare. I can tell you it +isn't any joke." + +"I didn't know I was staring at you," said Ellen, humbly. + +"It would be enough to have you rising and sinking there, without your +staring at all: If you're going to stay, I wish you'd lie down. I don't +see why you're so well, anyway, after getting us all to come on this +wild-goose chase." + +"I know, I know," Ellen strickenly deprecated. "But I'm not going to +stay. I jest came for my things." + +"Is that giggling simpleton sick? I hope he is!" + +"Mr. Breckon?" Ellen asked, though she knew whom Lottie meant. "No, he +isn't sick. He was at lunch." + +"Was poppa?" + +"He was at breakfast." + +"And momma?" + +"She and Boyne are both in bed. I don't know whether they're very sick." + +"Well, then, I'll just tell you what, Ellen Kenton!" Lottie sat up in +accusal. "You were staring at something he said; and the first thing we +all know it will be another case of Bittridge!" Ellen winced, but Lottie +had no pity. "You don't know it, because you don't know anything, and +I'm not blaming you; but if you let that simpleton--I don't care if he is +a minister!--go 'round with you when your family are all sick abed, +you'll be having the whole ship to look after you." + +"Be still, Lottie!" cried Ellen. "You are awful," and, with a flaming +face, she escaped from the state-room. + +She did not know where else to go, and she beat along the sides of the +corridor as far as the dining-saloon. She had a dim notion of trying to +go up into the music-room above, but a glance at the reeling steep of the +stairs forbade. With her wraps on her arm and her sea-cap in her hand, +she stood clinging to the rail-post. + +Breckon came out of the saloon. "Oh, Miss Kenton," he humbly entreated, +"don't try to go on deck! It's rougher than ever." + +"I was going to the music-room," she faltered. + +"Let me help you, then," he said again. They mounted the gangway-steps, +but this time with his hand under her elbow, and his arm alert as before +in a suspended embrace against her falling. + +She had lost the initiative of her earlier adventure; she could only +submit herself to his guidance. But he almost outdid her in meekness, +when he got her safely placed in a corner whence she could not be easily +flung upon the floor. "You must have found it very stuffy below; but, +indeed, you'd better not try going out." + +"Do you think it isn't safe here?" she asked. + +"Oh yes. As long as you keep quiet. May I get you something to read? +They seem to have a pretty good little library." + +They both glanced at the case of books; from which the steward-librarian +was setting them the example of reading a volume. + +"No, I don't want to read. You musn't let me keep you from it." + +"Well, one can read any time. But one hasn't always the chance to say +that one is ashamed. Don't pretend you don't understand, Miss Kenton! +I didn't really mean anything. The temptation to let you exaggerate my +disability was too much for me. Say that you despise me! It would be +such a comfort." + +"Weren't you hurt?" + +"A little--a little more than a little, but not half so much as I +deserved--not to the point of not being able to cut up my meat. Am I +forgiven? I'll promise to cut up all your meat for you at dinner! Ah, +I'm making it worse!" + +"Oh no. Please don't speak of it" + +"Could you forbid my thinking of it, too?" He did not wait for her to +answer. "Then here goes! One, two, three, and the thought is banished +forever. Now what shall we speak of, or think of? We finished up the +weather pretty thoroughly this morning. And if you have not the weather +and the ship's run when you're at sea, why, you are at sea. Don't you +think it would be a good plan, when they stick those little flags into +the chart, to show how far we've come in the last twenty-four hours, if +they'd supply a topic for the day? They might have topics inscribed on +the flags-standard topics, that would serve for any voyage. We might +leave port with History--say, personal history; that would pave the way +to a general acquaintance among the passengers. Then Geography, and if +the world is really round, and what keeps the sea from spilling. Then +Politics, and the comparative advantages of monarchical and republican +governments, for international discussion. Then Pathology, and whether +you're usually sea-sick, and if there is any reliable remedy. Then--for +those who are still up--Poetry and Fiction; whether women really like +Kipling, and what kind of novels you prefer. There ought to be about ten +topics. These boats are sometimes very slow. Can't you suggest +something, Miss Kenton? There is no hurry! We've got four to talk over, +for we must bring up the arrears, you know. And now we'll begin with +personal history. Your sister doesn't approve of me, does she?" + +"My sister?" Ellen faltered, and, between the conscience to own the fact +and the kindness to deny it, she stopped altogether. + +"I needn't have asked. She told me so herself, in almost as many words. +She said I was slippery, and as close as a trap. Miss Kenton! I have +the greatest wish to know whether I affect you as both slippery and +close!" + +"I don't always know what Lottie means." + +"She means what she says; and I feel that I am under condemnation till I +reform. I don't know how to stop being slippery, but I'm determined to +stop being close. Will you tell her that for me? Will you tell her that +you never met an opener, franker person?--of course, except herself!--and +that so far from being light I seemed to you particularly heavy? Say +that I did nothing but talk about myself, and that when you wanted to +talk about yourself you couldn't get in a word edgewise. Do try, now, +Miss Kenton, and see if you can! I don't want you to invent a character +for me, quite." + +"Why, there's nothing to say about me," she began in compliance with his +gayety, and then she fell helpless from it. + +"Well, then, about Tuskingum. I should like to hear about Tuskingum, so +much!" + +"I suppose we like it because we've always lived there. You haven't been +much in the West, have you?" + +"Not as much as I hope to be." He had found that Western people were +sometimes sensitive concerning their section and were prepared to resent +complacent ignorance of it. "I've always thought it must be very +interesting." + +"It isn't," said the girl. "At least, not like the East. I used to be +provoked when the lecturers said anything like that; but when you've been +to New York you see what they mean." + +"The lecturers?" he queried. + +"They always stayed at our house when they lectured in Tuskingum." + +"Ah! Oh yes," said Breckon, grasping a situation of which he had heard +something, chiefly satirical. "Of course. And is your father--is Judge +Kenton literary? Excuse me!" + +"Only in his history. He's writing the history of his regiment; or he +gets the soldiers to write down all they can remember of the war, and +then he puts their stories together." + +"How delightful!" said Breckon. "And I suppose it's a great pleasure to +him." + +"I don't believe it is," said Ellen. "Poppa doesn't believe in war any +more." + +"Indeed!" said Breckon. "That is very interesting." + +"Sometimes when I'm helping him with it--" + +"Ah, I knew you must help him!" + +"And he comes to a place where there has been a dreadful slaughter, it +seems as if he felt worse about it than I did. He isn't sure that it +wasn't all wrong. He thinks all war is wrong now." + +"Is he--has he become a follower of Tolstoy?" + +"He's read him. He says he's the only man that ever gave a true account +of battles; but he had thought it all out for himself before he read +Tolstoy about fighting. Do you think it is right to revenge an injury?" + +"Why, surely not!" said Breckon, rather startled. + +"That is what we say," the girl pursued. "But if some one had injured +you--abused your confidence, and--insulted you, what would you do?" + +"I'm not sure that I understand," Breckon began. The inquiry was +superficially impersonal, but he reflected that women are never +impersonal, or the sons of women, for that matter, and he suspected an +intimate ground. His suspicions were confirmed when Miss Kenton said: +"It seems easy enough to forgive anything that's done to yourself; but if +it's done to some one else, too, have you the right--isn't it wrong to +let it go?" + +"You think the question of justice might come in then? Perhaps it ought. +But what is justice? And where does your duty begin to be divided?" +He saw her following him with alarming intensity, and he shrank from the +responsibility before him. What application might not she make of his +words in the case, whatever it was, which he chose not to imagine? +"To tell you the truth, Miss Kenton, I'm not very clear on that point +--I'm not sure that I'm disinterested." + +"Disinterested?" + +"Yes; you know that I abused your confidence at luncheon; and until I +know whether the wrong involved any one else--" He looked at her with +hovering laughter in his eyes which took wing at the reproach in hers. +"But if we are to be serious--" + +"Oh no," she said, "it isn't a serious matter." But in the helplessness +of her sincerity she could not carry it off lightly, or hide from him +that she was disappointed. + +He tried to make talk about other things. She responded vaguely, and +when she had given herself time she said she believed she would go to +Lottie; she was quite sure she could get down the stairs alone. He +pursued her anxiously, politely, and at the head of her corridor took +leave of her with a distinct sense of having merited his dismissal. + +"I see what you mean, Lottie," she said, "about Mr. Breckon." + +Lottie did not turn her head on the pillow. "Has it taken you the whole +day to find it out?" + + + + +XII. + +The father and the mother had witnessed with tempered satisfaction the +interest which seemed to be growing up between Ellen and the young +minister. By this time they had learned not to expect too much of any +turn she might take; she reverted to a mood as suddenly as she left it. +They could not quite make out Breckon himself; he was at least as great a +puzzle to them as their own child was. + +"It seems," said Mrs. Kenton, in their first review of the affair, after +Boyne had done a brother's duty in trying to bring Ellen under their +mother's censure, "that he was the gentleman who discussed the theatre +with Boyne at the vaudeville last winter. Boyne just casually mentioned +it. I was so provoked!" + +"I don't see what bearing the fact has," the judge remarked. + +"Why, Boyne liked him very much that night, but now he seems to feel very +much as Lottie does about him. He thinks he laughs too much." + +"I don't know that there's much harm in that," said the judge. "And I +shouldn't value Boyne's opinion of character very highly." + +"I value any one's intuitions--especially children's." + +"Boyne's in that middle state where he isn't quite a child. And so is +Lottie, for that matter." + +"That is true," their mother assented. "And we ought to be glad of +anything that takes Ellen's mind off herself. If I could only believe +she was forgetting that wretch!" + +"Does she ever speak of him?" + +"She never hints of him, even. But her mind may be full of him all the +time." + +The judge laughed impatiently. "It strikes me that this young Mr. +Breckon hasn't much advantage of Ellen in what Lottie calls closeness!" + +"Ellen has always been very reserved. It would have been better for her +if she hadn't. Oh, I scarcely dare to hope anything! Rufus, I feel that +in everything of this kind we are very ignorant and inexperienced." + +"Inexperienced!" Renton retorted. "I don't want any more experience of +the kind Ellen has given us." + +"I don't mean that. I mean--this Mr. Breckon. I can't tell what +attracts him in the child. She must appear very crude and uncultivated +to him. You needn't resent it so! I know she's read a great deal, and +you've made her think herself intellectual--but the very simple- +heartedness of the way she would show out her reading would make such a +young man see that she wasn't like the girls he was used to. They would +hide their intellectuality, if they had any. It's no use your trying to +fight it Mr. Kenton. We are country people, and he knows it." + +"Tuskingum isn't country!" the judge declared. + +"It isn't city. And we don't know anything about the world, any of us. +Oh, I suppose we can read and write! But we don't know the a, b, c of +the things he, knows. He, belongs to a kind of society--of people-- +in New York that I had glimpses of in the winter, but that I never +imagined before. They made me feel very belated and benighted--as if I +hadn't, read or thought anything. They didn't mean to; but I couldn't +help it, and they couldn't." + +"You--you've been frightened out of your propriety by what you've seen in +New York," said her husband. + +"I've been frightened, certainly. And I wish you had been, too. I wish +you wouldn't be so conceited about Ellen. It scares me to see you so. +Poor, sick thing, her looks are all gone! You must see that. And she +doesn't dress like the girls he's used to. I know we've got her things +in New York; but she doesn't wear them like a New-Yorker. I hope she +isn't going in for MORE unhappiness!" + +At the thought of this the judge's crest fell. "Do you believe she's +getting interested in him?" he asked, humbly. + +"No, no; I don't say that. But promise me you won't encourage her in it. +And don't, for pity's sake, brag about her to him." + +"No, I won't," said the judge, and he tacitly repented having done so. + +The weather had changed, and when he went up from this interview with his +wife in their stateroom he found a good many people strung convalescently +along the promenade on their steamer-chairs. These, so far as they were +women, were of such sick plainness that when he came to Ellen his heart +throbbed with a glad resentment of her mother's aspersion of her health +and beauty. She looked not only very well, and very pretty, but in a gay +red cap and a trig jacket she looked, to her father's uncritical eyes, +very stylish. The glow left his heart at eight of the empty seat beside +her. + +"Where is Lottie?" he asked, though it was not Lottie's whereabouts +that interested him. + +"Oh, she's walking with Mr. Breckon somewhere," said Ellen. + +"Then she's made up her mind to tolerate him, has she?" the father +asked, more lightly than he felt. + +Ellen smiled. "That wasn't anything very serious, I guess. At any rate, +she's walking with him." + +"What book is that?" he asked, of the volume she was tilting back and +forth under her hand. + +She showed it. "One of his. He brought it up to amuse me, he said." + +"While he was amusing himself with Lottie," thought the judge, in his +jealousy for her. "It is going the same old way. Well!" What he said +aloud was, "And is it amusing you?" + +"I haven't looked at it yet," said the girl. "It's amusing enough to +watch the sea. Oh, poppa! I never thought I should care so much for +it." + +"And you're glad we came?" + +"I don't want to think about that. I just want to know that I'm here." +She pressed his arm gently, significantly, where he sat provisionally in +the chair beside her, and he was afraid to speak lest he should scare +away the hope her words gave him. + +He merely said, "Well, well!" and waited for her to speak further. But +her impulse had exhausted itself, as if her spirit were like one of those +weak forms of life which spend their strength in a quick run or flight, +and then rest to gather force for another. "Where's Boyne?" he asked, +after waiting for her to speak. + +"He was here a minute ago. He's been talking with some of the deck +passengers that are going home because they couldn't get on in America. +Doesn't that seem pitiful, poppa? I always thought we had work enough +for the whole world." + +"Perhaps these fellows didn't try very hard to find it," said the judge. + +"Perhaps," she assented. + +"I shouldn't want you to get to thinking that it's all like New York. +Remember how comfortable everybody is in Tuskingum." + +"Yes," she said, sadly. "How far off Tuskingum seems!" + +"Well, don't forget about it; and remember that wherever life is simplest +and purest and kindest, that is the highest civilization." + +"How much like old times it seems to hear you talk that way, poppa! +I should think I was in the library at home. And I made you leave it!" +she sighed. + +"Your mother was glad of any excuse. And it will do us all good, if we +take it in the right way," said the judge, with a didactic severity that +did not hide his pang from her. + +"Poor poppa!" she said. + +He went away, saying that he was going to look Lottie up. His simple +design was to send Lottie to her mother, so that Breckon might come back +to Ellen; but he did not own this to himself. + +Lottie returned from another direction with Boyne, and Ellen said, +"Poppa's gone to look for you." + +"Has he?" asked Lottie, dropping decisively into her chair. "Well, +there's one thing; I won't call him poppa any more." + +"What will you call him?" Boyne demanded, demurely. + +"I'll call him father, it you want to know; and I'm going to call momma, +mother. I'm not going to have those English laughing at us, and I won't +say papa and mamma. Everybody that knows anything says father and mother +now." + +Boyne kept looking from one sister to another during Lottie's +declaration, and, with his eyes on Ellen, he said, "It's true, Ellen. +All the Plumptons did." He was very serious. + +Ellen smiled. "I'm too old to change. I'd rather seem queer in Europe +than when I get back to Tuskingum." + +"You wouldn't be queer there a great while," said Lottie. "They'll all +be doing it in a week after I get home." + +Upon the encouragement given him by Ellen, Boyne seized the chance of +being of the opposition. "Yes," he taunted Lottie, "and you think +they'll say woman and man, for lady and gentleman, I suppose." + +"They will as soon as they know it's the thing." + +"Well, I know I won't," said Boyne. "I won't call momma a woman." + +"It doesn't matter what you do, Boyne dear," his sister serenely assured +him. + +While he stood searching his mind for a suitable retort, a young man, not +apparently many years his senior, came round the corner of the music- +room, and put himself conspicuously in view at a distance from the +Kentons. + +"There he is, now," said Boyne. "He wants to be introduced to Lottie." +He referred the question to Ellen, but Lottie answered for her. + +"Then why don't you introduce him?" + +"Well, I would if he was an American. But you can't tell about these +English." He resumed the dignity he had lost in making the explanation +to Lottie, and ignored her in turning again to Ellen. "What do you +think, Ellen?" + +"Oh, don't know about such things, Boyne," she said, shrinking from the +responsibility. + +"Well; upon my word!" cried Lottie. "If Ellen can talk by the hour with +that precious Mr. Breckon, and stay up here along with him, when +everybody else is down below sick, I don't think she can have a great +deal to say about a half-grown boy like that being introduced to me." + +"He's as old as you are," said Boyne, hotly. + +"Oh! I saw him associating with you, and I thought he was a boy, too. +Pardon me!" Lottie turned from giving Boyne his coup-de-grace, to plant +a little stab in Ellen's breast. "To be sure, now Mr. Breckon has found +those friends of his, I suppose he won't want to flirt with Ellen any +more." + +"Ah, ha, ha!" Boyne broke in. "Lottie is mad because he stopped to +speak to some ladies he knew. Women, I suppose she'd call them." + +"Well, I shouldn't call him a gentleman, anyway," said Lottie. + +The pretty, smooth-faced, fresh-faced young fellow whom their varying +debate had kept in abeyance, looked round at them over his shoulder as he +leaned on the rail, and seemed to discover Boyne for the first time. He +came promptly towards the Kentons. + +"Now," said Lottie, rapidly, "you'll just HAVE to." + +The young fellow touched his cap to the whole group, but he ventured to +address only Boyne. + +"Every one seems to be about this morning," he said, with the cheery +English-rising infection. + +"Yes," answered Boyne, with such snubbing coldness that Ellen's heart was +touched. + +"It's so pleasant," she said, "after that dark weather." + +"Isn't it?" cried the young fellow, gratefully. "One doesn't often get +such sunshine as this at sea, you know." + +"My sister, Miss Kenton, Mr. Pogis," Boyne solemnly intervened. "And +Miss Lottie Kenton." + +The pretty boy bowed to each in turn, but he made no pretence of being +there to talk with Ellen. "Have you been ill, too?" he actively +addressed himself to Lottie. + +"No, just mad," she said. "I wasn't very sick, and that made it all the +worse being down in a poky state-room when I wanted to walk." + +"And I suppose you've been making up for lost time this morning?" + +"Not half," said Lottie. + +"Oh, do finish the half with me!" + +Lottie instantly rose, and flung her sister the wrap she had been holding +ready to shed from the moment the young man had come up. "Keep that for +me, Nell. Are you good at catching?" she asked him. + +"Catching?" + +"Yes! People," she explained, and at a sudden twist of the ship she made +a clutch at his shoulder. + +"Oh! I think I can catch you." + +As they moved off together, Boyne said, "Well, upon my word!" but Ellen +did not say anything in comment on Lottie. After a while she asked, "Who +were the ladies that Mr. Breckon met?" + +"I didn't hear their names. They were somebody he hadn't seen before +since the ship started. They looked like a young lady and her mother. +It made Lottie mad when he stopped to speak with them, and she wouldn't +wait till he could get through. Ran right away, and made me come, too." + + + + + +XIII. + +Breckon had not seen the former interest between himself and Ellen lapse +to commonplace acquaintance without due sense of loss. He suffered +justly, but he did not suffer passively, or without several attempts to +regain the higher ground. In spite of these he was aware of being +distinctly kept to the level which he accused himself of having chosen, +by a gentle acquiescence in his choice more fatal than snubbing. The +advances that he made across the table, while he still met Miss Kenton +alone there, did not carry beyond the rack supporting her plate. She +talked on whatever subject he started with that angelic sincerity which +now seemed so far from him, but she started none herself; she did not +appeal to him for his opinion upon any question more psychological than +the barometer; and, + + "In a tumultuous privacy of storm," + +he found himself as much estranged from her as if a fair-weather crowd +had surrounded them. He did not believe that she resented the levity he +had shown; but he had reason to fear that she had finally accepted it as +his normal mood, and in her efforts to meet him in it, as if he had no +other, he read a tolerance that was worse than contempt. When he tried +to make her think differently, if that was what she thought of him, he +fancied her rising to the notion he wished to give her, and then +shrinking from it, as if it must bring her the disappointment of some +trivial joke. + +It was what he had taught her to expect of him, and he had himself to +blame. Now that he had thrown that precious chance away, he might well +have overvalued it. She had certain provincialisms which he could not +ignore. She did not know the right use of will and shall, and would and +should, and she pronounced the letter 'r' with a hard mid-Western twist. +Her voice was weak and thin, and she could not govern it from being at +times a gasp and at times a drawl. She did not dress with the authority +of women who know more of their clothes than the people they buy them of; +she did not carry herself like a pretty girl; she had not the definite +stamp of young-ladyism. Yet she was undoubtedly a lady in every +instinct; she wore with pensive grace the clothes which she had not +subjected to her personal taste; and if she did not carry herself like a +pretty girl, she had a beauty which touched and entreated. + +More and more Breckon found himself studying her beauty--her soft, brown +brows, her gentle, dark eyes, a little sunken, and with the lids pinched +by suffering; the cheeks somewhat thin, but not colorless; the long chin, +the clear forehead, and the massed brown hair, that seemed too heavy for +the drooping neck. It was not the modern athletic type; it was rather of +the earlier period, when beauty was associated with the fragility +despised by a tanned and golfing generation. Ellen Kenton's wrists were +thin, and her hands long and narrow. As he looked at her across the +racks during those two days of storm, he had sometimes the wish to take +her long, narrow hands in his, and beg her to believe that he was +worthier her serious friendship than he had shown himself. What he was +sure of at all times now was that he wished to know the secret of that +patient pathos of hers. She was not merely, or primarily, an invalid. +Her family had treated her as an invalid, but, except Lottie, whose rigor +might have been meant sanatively, they treated her more with the +tenderness people use with a wounded spirit; and Breckon fancied moments +of something like humility in her, when she seemed to cower from his +notice. These were not so imaginable after her family took to their +berths and left her alone with him, but the touching mystery remained, a +sort of bewilderment, as he guessed it, a surprise such as a child might +show at some incomprehensible harm. It was this grief which he had +refused not merely to know--he still doubted his right to know it--but to +share; he had denied not only his curiosity but his sympathy, and had +exiled himself to a region where, when her family came back with the fair +weather, he felt himself farther from her than before their acquaintance +began. + +He had made an overture to its renewal in the book he lent her, and then +Mrs. Rasmith and her daughter had appeared on deck, and borne down upon +him when he was walking with Lottie Kenton and trying to begin his self- +retrieval through her. She had left him; but they had not, and in the +bonds of a prophet and his followers he found himself bound with them for +much more conversation than he had often held with them ashore. The +parochial duties of an ethical teacher were not strenuous, and Breckon +had not been made to feel them so definitely before. Mrs. Rasmith held +that they now included promising to sit at her table for the rest of the +voyage; but her daughter succeeded in releasing him from the obligation; +and it was she who smilingly detached the clinging hold of the elder +lady. "We mustn't keep Mr. Breckon from his friends, mother," she said, +brightly, and then he said he should like the pleasure of introducing +them, and both of the ladies declared that they would be delighted. + +He bowed himself off, and half the ship's-length away he was aware, from +meeting Lottie with her little Englishman, that it was she and not Ellen +whom he was seeking. As the couple paused in whirring past Breckon long +enough to let Lottie make her hat fast against the wind, he heard the +Englishman shout: + +"I say, that sister of yours is a fine girl, isn't she?" + +"She's a pretty good--looker," Lottie answered back. "What's the matter +with HER sister?" + +"Oh, I say!" her companion returned, in a transport with her slangy +pertness, which Breckon could not altogether refuse to share. + +He thought that he ought to condemn it, and he did condemn Mrs. Kenton +for allowing it in one of her daughters, when he came up to her sitting +beside another whom he felt inexpressibly incapable of it. Mrs. Kenton +could have answered his censure, if she had known it, that daughters, +like sons, were not what their mothers but what their environments made +them, and that the same environment sometimes made them different, as he +saw. She could have told him that Lottie, with her slangy pertness, had +the truest and best of the men she knew at her feet, and that Ellen, with +her meekness, had been the prey of the commonest and cheapest spirit in +her world, and so left him to make an inference as creditable to his sex +as he could. But this bold defence was as far from the poor lady as any +spoken reproach was from him. Her daughter had to check in her a +mechanical offer to rise, as if to give Breckon her place, the theory and +practice of Tuskingum being that their elders ought to leave young people +alone together. + +"Don't go, momma," Ellen whispered. "I don't want you to go." + +Breckon, when he arrived before them, remained talking on foot, and, +unlike Lottie's company, he talked to the mother. This had happened +before from him, but she had not got used to it, and now she deprecated +in everything but words his polite questions about her sufferings from +the rough weather, and his rejoicing that the worst was probably over. +She ventured the hope that it was so, for she said that Mr. Kenton had +about decided to keep on to Holland, and it seemed to her that they had +had enough of storms. He said he was glad that they were going right on; +and then she modestly recurred to the earlier opinion he had given her +husband that it would be better to spend the rest of the summer in +Holland than to go to Italy, as if she wished to conform herself in the +wisdom of Mr. Kenton's decision. He repeated his conviction, and he said +that if he were in their place he should go to The Hague as soon as they +had seen Rotterdam, and make it their headquarters for the exploration of +the whole country. + +"You can't realize how little it is; you can get anywhere in an hour; the +difficulty is to keep inside of Holland when you leave any given point. +I envy you going there." + +Mrs. Kenton inferred that he was going to stop in France, but if it were +part of his closeness not to tell, it was part of her pride not to ask. +She relented when he asked if he might get a map of his and prove the +littleness of Holland from it, and in his absence she could not well +avoid saying to Ellen, "He seems very pleasant." + +"Yes; why not?" the girl asked. + +"I don't know. Lottie is so against him." + +"He was very kind when you were all sick." + +"Well, you ought to know better than Lottie; you've seen him so much +more." Ellen was silent, and her mother advanced cautiously, "I suppose +he is very cultivated." + +"How can I tell? I'm not." + +"Why, Ellen, I think you are. Very few girls have read so much." + +"Yes, but he wouldn't care if I were cultivated, Ha is like all the rest. +He would like to joke and laugh. Well, I think that is nice, too, and I +wish I could do it. But I never could, and now I can't try. I suppose +he wonders what makes me such a dead weight on you all." + +"You know you're not that, Ellen! You musn't let yourself be morbid. It +hurts me to have you say such things." + +"Well, I should like to tell him why, and see what he would say." + +"Ellen!" + +"Why not? If he is a minister he must have thought about all kinds of +things. Do you suppose he ever knew of a girl before who had been +through what I have? Yes, I would like to know what he would really +say." + +"I know what he ought to say! If he knew, he would say that no girl had +ever behaved more angelically." + +"Do you think he would? Perhaps he would say that if I hadn't been so +proud and silly--Here he comes! Shall we ask him?" + +Breckon approached with his map, and her mother gasped, thinking how +terrible such a thing would be if it could be; Ellen smiled brightly up +at him. "Will you take my chair? And then you can show momma your map. +I am going down," and while he was still protesting she was gone. + +"Miss Kenton seems so much better than she did the first day," he said, +as he spread the map out on his knees, and gave Mrs. Kenton one end to +hold. + +"Yes," the mother assented, as she bent over to look at it. + +She followed his explanation with a surface sense, while her nether mind +was full of the worry of the question which Ellen had planted in it. +What would such a man think of what she had been through? Or, rather, +how would he say to her the only things that in Mrs. Kenton's belief he +could say? How could the poor child ever be made to see it in the light +of some mind not colored with her family's affection for her? An +immense, an impossible longing possessed itself of the mother's heart, +which became the more insistent the more frantic it appeared. She +uttered "Yes" and "No" and "Indeed" to what he was saying, but all the +time she was rehearsing Ellen's story in her inner sense. In the end she +remembered so little what had actually passed that her dramatic reverie +seemed the reality, and when she left him she got herself down to her +state-room, giddy with the shame and fear of her imaginary self-betrayal. +She wished to test the enormity, and yet not find it so monstrous, by +submitting the case to her husband, and she could scarcely keep back her +impatience at seeing Ellen instead of her father. + +"Momma, what have you been saying to Mr. Breckon about me?" + +"Nothing," said Mrs. Kenton, aghast at first, and then astonished to +realize that she was speaking the simple truth. "He said how much better +you were looking; but I don't believe I spoke a single word. We were +looking at the map." + +"Very well," Ellen resumed. "I have been thinking it all over, and now I +have made up my mind." + +She paused, and her mother asked, tremulously, "About what, Ellen?" + +"You know, momma. I see all now. You needn't be afraid that I care +anything about him now," and her mother knew that she meant Bittridge, +"or that I ever shall. That's gone forever. But it's gone," she added, +and her mother quaked inwardly to hear her reason, "because the wrong and +the shame was all for me--for us. That's why I can forgive it, and +forget. If we had done anything, the least thing in the world, to +revenge ourselves, or to hurt him, then--Don't you see, momma?" + +"I think I see, Ellen." + +"Then I should have to keep thinking about it, and what we had made him +suffer, and whether we hadn't given him some claim. I don't wish ever to +think of him again. You and poppa were so patient and forbearing, all +through; and I thank goodness now for everything you put up with; only I +wish I could have borne everything myself." + +"You had enough to bear," Mrs. Kenton said, in tender evasion. + +"I'm glad that I had to bear so much, for bearing it is what makes me +free now." She went up to her mother and kissed her, and gazed into her +face with joyful, tearful looks that made her heart sink. + + + + +XIV. + +Mrs. Kenton did not rest till she had made sure from Lottie and Boyne +that neither of them had dropped any hint to Ellen of what happened to +Bittridge after his return to Tuskingum. She did not explain to them why +she was so very anxious to know, but only charged them the more solemnly +not to let the secret, which they had all been keeping from Ellen, escape +them. + +They promised, but Lottie said, "She's got to know it some time, and I +should think the sooner the better." + +"I will be judge of that, Lottie," said her mother, and Boyne seized his +chance of inculpating her with his friend, Mr. Pogis. He said she was +carrying on awfully with him already; and an Englishman could not +understand, and Boyne hinted that he would presume upon her American +freedom. + +"Well, if he does, I'll get you to cowhide him, Boyne," she retorted, and +left him fuming helplessly, while she went to give the young Englishman +an opportunity of resuming the flirtation which her mother had +interrupted. + +With her husband Mrs. Kenton found it practicable to be more explicit. +"I haven't had such a load lifted off my heart since I don't know when. +It shows me what I've thought all along: that Ellen hasn't really cared +anything for that miserable thing since he first began going with Mrs. +Uphill a year ago. When he wrote that letter to her in New York she +wanted to be sure she didn't, and when he offered himself and misbehaved +so to both of you, she was afraid that she and you were somehow to blame. +Now she's worked it out that no one else was wronged, and she is +satisfied. It's made her feel free, as she says. But, oh, dear me!" +Mrs. Kenton broke off, "I talk as if there was nothing to bind her; and +yet there is what poor Richard did! What would she say if she knew that? +I have been cautioning Lottie and Boyne, but I know it will come out +somehow. Do you think it's wise to keep it from her? Hadn't we better +tell her? Or shall we wait and see--" + +Kenton would not allow to her or to himself that his hopes ran with hers; +love is not business with a man as it is with a woman; he feels it +indecorous and indelicate to count upon it openly, where she thinks it +simply a chance of life, to be considered like another. All that Kenton +would say was, "I see no reason for telling her just yet. She will have +to know in due time. But let her enjoy her freedom now." + +"Yes," Mrs. Kenton doubtfully assented. + +The judge was thoughtfully silent. Then he said: "Few girls could have +worked out her problem as Ellen has. Think how differently Lottie would +have done it!" + +"Lottie has her good points, too," said Mrs. Kenton. "And, of course, I +don't blame Richard. There are all kinds of girls, and Lottie means no +more harm than Ellen does. She's the kind that can't help attracting; +but I always knew that Ellen was attractive, too, if she would only find +it out. And I knew that as soon as anything worth while took up her mind +she would never give that wretch another thought." + +Kenton followed her devious ratiocinations to a conclusion which he could +not grasp. "What do you mean, Sarah?" + +"If I only," she explained, in terms that did not explain, "felt as sure +of him as I do about him!" + +Her husband looked densely at her. "Bittridge?" + +"No. Mr. Breckon. He is very nice, Rufus. Yes, he is! He's been +showing me the map of Holland, and we've had a long talk. He isn't the +way we thought--or I did. He is not at all clerical, or worldly. And he +appreciates Ellen. I don't suppose he cares so much for her being +cultivated; I suppose she doesn't seem so to him. But he sees how wise +she is--how good. And he couldn't do that without being good himself! +Rufus! If we could only hope such a thing. But, of course, there are +thousands after him!" + +"There are not thousands of Ellens after him," said the judge, before he +could take time to protest. "And I don't want him to suppose that she is +after him at all. If he will only interest her and help her to keep her +mind off herself, it's all I will ask of him. I am not anxious to part +with her, now that she's all ours again." + +"Of course," Mrs. Kenton soothingly assented. "And I don't say that she +dreams of him in any such way. She can't help admiring his mind. But +what I mean is that when you see how he appreciates her, you can't help +wishing he could know just how wise, and just how good she is. It did +seem to me as if I would give almost anything to have him know what she +had been through with that--rapscallion!" + +"Sarah!" + +"Oh, you may Sarah me! But I can tell you what, Mr. Kenton: I believe +that you could tell him every word of it, and only make him appreciate +her the more. Till you know that about Ellen, you don't know what a +character she is. I just ached to tell him!" + +"I don't understand you, my dear," said Kenton. "But if you mean to tell +him--" + +"Why, who could imagine doing such a thing? Don't you see that it is +impossible? Such a thing would never have come into my head if it hadn't +been for some morbid talk of Ellen's." + +"Of Ellen's?" + +"Oh, about wanting to disgust him by telling him why she was such a +burden to us." + +"She isn't a burden!" + +"I am saying what she said. And it made me think that if such a person +could only know the high-minded way she had found to get out of her +trouble! I would like somebody who is capable of valuing her to value +her in all her preciousness. Wouldn't you be glad if such a man as he is +could know how and why she feels free at last?" + +"I don't think it's necessary," said Kenton, haughtily, "There's only one +thing that could give him the right to know it, and we'll wait for that +first. I thought you said that he was frivolous." + +"Boyne said that, and Lottie. I took it for granted, till I talked with +him to-day. He is light-hearted and gay; he likes to laugh and joke; but +he can be very serious when he wants to." + +"According to all precedent," said the judge, glumly, "such a man ought +to be hanging round Lottie. Everybody was that amounted to anything in +Tuskingum." + +"Oh, in Tuskingum! And who were the men there that amounted to anything? +A lot of young lawyers, and two students of medicine, and some railroad +clerks. There wasn't one that would compare with Mr. Breckon for a +moment." + +"All the more reason why he can't really care for Ellen. Now see here, +Sarah! You know I don't interfere with you and the children, but I'm +afraid you're in a craze about this young fellow. He's got these friends +of his who have just turned up, and we'll wait and see what he does with +them. I guess he appreciates the young lady as much as he does Ellen." + +Mrs. Kenton's heart went down. "She doesn't compare with Ellen!" she +piteously declared. + +"That's what we think. He may think differently." + +Mrs. Kenton was silenced, but all the more she was determined to make +sure that Mr. Breckon was not interested in Miss Rasmith in any measure +or manner detrimental to Ellen. As for Miss Rasmith herself, Mrs. Kenton +would have had greater reason to be anxious about her behavior with Boyne +than Mr. Breckon. From the moment that the minister had made his two +groups of friends acquainted, the young lady had fixed upon Boyne as that +member of the Kenton group who could best repay a more intimate +friendship. She was polite to them all, but to Boyne she was flattering, +and he was too little used to deference from ladies ten years his senior +not to be very sensible of her worth in offering it. To be unremittingly +treated as a grown-up person was an experience so dazzling that his +vision was blinded to any possibilities in the behavior that formed it; +and before the day ended Boyne had possessed Miss Rasmith of all that it +was important for any fellow-being to know of his character and history. +He opened his heart to eyes that had looked into others before his, less +for the sake of exploiting than of informing himself. In the rare +intelligence of Miss Rasmith he had found that serious patience with his +problems which no one else, not Ellen herself, had shown, and after +trying her sincerity the greater part of the day he put it to the supreme +test, one evening, with a book which he had been reading. Boyne's +literature was largely entomological and zoological, but this was a work +of fiction treating of the fortunes of a young American adventurer, who +had turned his military education to account in the service of a German +princess. Her Highness's dominions were not in any map of Europe, and +perhaps it was her condition of political incognito that rendered her the +more fittingly the prey of a passion for the American head of her armies. +Boyne's belief was that this character veiled a real identity, and he +wished to submit to Miss Rasmith the question whether in the exclusive +circles of New York society any young millionaire was known to have taken +service abroad after leaving west Point. He put it in the form of a +scoffing incredulity which it was a comfort to have her take as if almost +hurt by his doubt. She said that such a thing might very well be, and +with rich American girls marrying all sorts of titles abroad, it was not +impossible for some brilliant young fellow to make his way to the steps +of a throne. Boyne declared that she was laughing at him, and she +protested that it was the last thing she should think of doing; she was +too much afraid of him. Then he began to argue against the case supposed +in the romance; he proved from the book itself that the thing could not +happen; such a princess would not be allowed to marry the American, no +matter how rich he was. She owned that she had not heard of just such an +instance, and he might think her very romantic; and perhaps she was; but +if the princess was an absolute princess, such as she was shown in that +story, she held that no power on earth could keep her from marrying the +young American. For herself she did not see, though, how the princess +could be in love with that type of American. If she had been in the +princess's place she should have fancied something quite different. She +made Boyne agree with her that Eastern Americans were all, more or less, +Europeanized, and it stood to reason, she held, that a European princess +would want something as un-European as possible if she was falling in +love to please herself. They had some contention upon the point that the +princess would want a Western American; and then Miss Rasmith, with a +delicate audacity, painted an heroic portrait of Boyne himself which he +could not recognize openly enough to disown; but he perceived +resemblances in it which went to his head when she demurely rose, with a +soft "Good-night, Mr. Kenton. I suppose I mustn't call you Boyne?" + +"Oh yes, do!" he entreated. "I'm-I'm not grown up yet, you know." + +"Then it will be safe," she sighed. "But I should never have thought of +that. I had got so absorbed in our argument. You are so logical, Mr. +Kenton--Boyne, I mean--thank you. You must get it from your father. How +lovely your sister is!" + +"Ellen?" + +"Well, no. I meant the other one. But Miss Kenton is beautiful, too. +You must be so happy together, all of you." She added, with a rueful +smile, "There's only one of me! Good-night." + +Boyne did not know whether he ought not in humanity, if not gallantry, to +say he would be a brother to her, but while he stood considering, she put +out a hand to him so covered with rings that he was afraid she had hurt +herself in pressing his so hard, and had left him before he could decide. + +Lottie, walking the deck, had not thought of bidding Mr. Pogis good- +night. She had asked him half a dozen times how late it was, and when he +answered, had said as often that she knew better, and she was going below +in another minute. But she stayed, and the flow of her conversation +supplied him with occasion for the remarks of which he seldom varied the +formula. When she said something too audacious for silent emotion, he +called out, "Oh, I say!" If she advanced an opinion too obviously +acceptable, or asked a question upon some point where it seemed to him +there could not be two minds, he was ready with the ironical note, "Well, +rather!" At times she pressed her studies of his character and her +observations on his manner and appearance so far that he was forced to +protest, "You are so personal!" But these moments were rare; for the +most part, "Oh I say!" and "Well, rather!" perfectly covered the +ground. He did not generally mind her parody of his poverty of phrase, +but once, after she had repeated "Well rather!" and "Oh, I say!" +steadily at everything he said for the whole round of the promenade they +were making, he intimated that there were occasions when, in his belief, +a woman's abuse of the freedom generously allowed her sex passed the +point of words. + +"And when it passes the point of words" she taunted him, "what do you +do?" + +"You will see," he said, "if it ever does," and Lottie felt justified by +her inference that he was threatening to kiss her, in answering: + +"And if I ever SEE, I will box your ears." + +"Oh, I say!" he retorted. "I should like to have you try." + +He had ideas of the rightful mastery of a man in all things, which she +promptly pronounced brutal, and when he declared that his father's +conduct towards his wife and children was based upon these ideas, she +affirmed the superiority of her own father's principles and behavior. +Mr. Pogis was too declared an admirer of Judge Kenton to question his +motives or method in anything, and he could only generalize, "The +Americans spoil their women." + +"Well, their women are worth it," said Lottie, and after allowing the +paradox time to penetrate his intelligence, he cried out, in a glad +transport: + +"Oh, I SAY!" + +At the moment Boyne's intellectual seance with Miss Rasmith was coming to +an end. Lottie had tacitly invited Mr. Pogis to prolong the comparison +of English and American family life by stopping in front of a couple of +steamer-chairs, and confessing that she was tired to death. They sat +down, and he told her about his mother, whom, although his father's +subordinate, he seemed to be rather fonder of. He had some elder +brothers, most of them in the colonies, and he had himself been out to +America looking at something his father had found for him in Buffalo. + +"You ought to come to Tuskingum," said Lottie. + +"Is that a large place?" Mr. Pogis asked. "As large as Buffalo?" + +"Well, no," Lottie admitted. "But it's a growing place. And we have the +best kind of times." + +"What kind?" The young man easily consented to turn the commercial into +a social inquiry. + +"Oh, picnics, and river parties, and buggy-rides, and dances." + +"I'm keen on dancing," said Mr. Pogis. "I hope they'll give us a dance +on board. Will you put me down for the first dance?" + +"I don't care. Will you send me some flowers? The steward must have +some left in the refrigerator." + +"Well, rather! I'll send you a spray, if he's got enough." + +"A spray? What's a spray?" + +"Oh, I say! My sister always wears one. It's a long chain of flowers +reachin' from your shoulder diagonally down to your waist." + +Does your sister always have her sprays sent to her?" + +"Well, rather! Don't they send flowers to girls for dances in the +States?" + +"Well, rather! Didn't I just ask you?" + +This was very true, and after a moment of baffle Mr. Pogis said, in +generalization, "If you go with a young lady in a party to the theatre +you send her a box of chocolates." + +"Only when you go to theatre! I couldn't get enough, then, unless you +asked me every night," said Lottie, and while Mr. Pogis was trying to +choose between "Oh, I say!" and something specific, like, "I should like +to ask you every night," she added, "And what would happen if you sent a +girl a spray for the theatre and chocolates for a dance? Wouldn't it jar +her?" + +Now, indeed, there was nothing for him but to answer, "Oh, I say!" + +"Well, say, then! Here comes Boyne, and I must go. Well, Boyne," she +called, from the dark nook where she sat, to her brother as he stumbled +near, with his eyes to the stars, "has the old lady retired?" + +He gave himself away finely. "What old lady!" + +"Well, maybe at your age you don't consider her very old. But I don't +think a boy ought to sit up mooning at his grandmother all night. I know +Miss Rasmith's no relation, if that's what you're going to say!" + +"Oh, I say!" Mr. Pogis chuckled. "You are so personal." + +"Well, rather!" said Lottie, punishing his presumption. "But I don't +think it's nice for a kid, even if she isn't." + +"Kid!" Boyne ground, through his clenched teeth. + +By this time Lottie was up out of her chair and beyond repartee in her +flight down the gangway stairs. She left the two youngsters confronted. + +"What do you say to a lemon-squash?" asked Mr. Pogis, respecting his +friend's wounded dignity, and ignoring Lottie and her offence. + +"I don't care if I do," said Boyne in gloomy acquiescence. + + + + +XV. + +Few witnesses of the fact that Julia Rasmith and her mother had found +themselves on the same steamer with the Rev. Hugh Breckon would have been +of such a simple mind as to think they were there by accident, if they +had also been witnesses of their earlier history. The ladies could have +urged that in returning from California only a few days before the Amstel +sailed, and getting a state-room which had been unexpectedly given up, +they had some claim to a charitable interpretation of their behavior, but +this plea could not have availed them with any connoisseur of women. +Besides, it had been a matter of notoriety among such of Mr. Breckon's +variegated congregation as knew one another that Mrs. Rasmith had set her +heart on him, it Julia had not set her cap for him. In that pied flock, +where every shade and dapple of doubt, from heterodox Jew to agnostic +Christian, foregathered, as it has been said, in the misgiving of a +blessed immortality, the devotion of Mrs. Rasmith to the minister had +been almost a scandal. Nothing had saved the appearance from this +character but Mr. Breckon's open acceptance of her flatteries and +hospitalities; this was so frank, and the behavior of Julia herself so +judicious under the circumstances, that envy and virtue were, if not +equally silenced, equally baffled. So far from pretending not to see her +mother's manoeuvres, Julia invited public recognition of them; in the way +of joking, which she kept within the limits of filial fondness, she made +fun of her mother's infatuation to Breckon himself, and warned him +against the moment when her wiles might be too much for him. Before +other people she did not hesitate to save him from her mother, so that +even those who believed her in the conspiracy owned that no girl could +have managed with more cleverness in a situation where not every one +would have refused to be placed. In this situation Julia Rasmith had the +service of a very clear head, and as was believed by some, a cool heart; +if she and her mother had joint designs upon the minister, hers was the +ambition, and her mother's the affection that prompted them. She was a +long, undulant girl, of a mixed blondness that left you in doubt, after +you had left her, whether her hair or her complexion were not of one +tint; but her features were good, and there could be no question of her +captivating laugh, and her charming mouth, which she was always pulling +down with demure irony. She was like her mother in her looks, but her +indolent, droning temperament must have been from her father, whose +memory was lost in that antiquity which swallows up the record of so many +widows' husbands, and who could not have left her what was left of her +mother's money, for none of it had ever been his. It was still her +mother's, and it was supposed to be the daughter's chief attraction. +There must, therefore, have been a good deal of it, for those who were +harshest with the minister did not believe that a little money would +attract him. Not that they really thought him mercenary; some of his +people considered him gay to the verge of triviality, but there were none +that accused him of insincerity. They would have liked a little more +seriousness in him, especially when they had not much of their own, and +would have had him make up in severity of behavior for what he lacked, +and what they wished him to lack, in austerity of doctrine. + +The Amstel had lost so much time in the rough weather of her first days +out that she could not make it up with her old-fashioned single screw. +She was at best a ten-day boat, counting from Sandy Hook to Boulogne, and +she had not been four days out when she promised to break her record for +slowness. Three days later Miss Rasmith said to Breckon, as he took the +chair which her mother agilely abandoned to him beside her: "The head +steward says it will be a twelve-day trip, end our bedroom steward thinks +more. What is the consensus of opinion in the smoking-room? Where are +you going, mother? Are you planning to leave Mr. Breckon and me alone +again? It isn't necessary. We couldn't get away from each other if we +tried, and all we ask--Well, I suppose age must he indulged in its +little fancies," she called after Mrs. Rasmith. + +Breckon took up the question she had asked him. "The odds are so heavily +in favor of a fifteen-days' run that there are no takers." + +"Now you are joking again," she said. "I thought a sea-voyage might make +you serious." + +"It has been tried before. Besides, it's you that I want to be serious." + +"What about? Besides, I doubt it." + +"About Boyne." + +"Oh! I thought you were going to say some one else." + +"No, I think that is very well settled." + +"You'll never persuade my mother," said Miss Rasmith, with a low, +comfortable laugh. + +"But if you are satisfied--" + +"She will have to resign herself? Well, perhaps. But why do you wish me +to be serious about Boyne?" + +"I have no doubt he amuses you. But that doesn't seem a very good reason +why you should amuse yourself with him." + +"No? Why not?" + +"Well, because the poor boy is in earnest; and you're not exactly-- +contemporaries." + +"Why, how old is Boyne?" she asked, with affected surprise. + +"About fifteen, I think," said Breckon, gravely. + +"And I'm but a very few months past thirty. I don't see the great +disparity. But he is merely a brother to me--an elder brother--and he +gives me the best kind of advice." + +"I dare say you need it, but all the same, I am afraid you are putting +ideas into his head." + +"Well, if he began it? If he put them in mine first?" + +She was evidently willing that he should go further, and create the +common ground between them that grows up when one gives a reproof and the +other accepts it; but Breckon, whether he thought that he had now done +his duty, and need say no more, or because he was vexed with her, left +the subject. + +"Mrs. Rasmith says you are going to Switzerland for the rest of the +summer." + +"Yes, to Montreux. Are you going to spend it in Paris?" + +"I'm going to Paris to see. I have had some thoughts of Etretat; I have +cousins there." + +"I wish that I could go to the sea-side. But this happens to be one of +the summers when nothing but mountains can save my mother's life. Shall +you get down to Rome before you go back?" + +"I don't know. If I sail from Naples I shall probably pass through +Rome." + +"You had better stop off. We shall be there in November, and they say +Rome is worth seeing," she laughed demurely. "That is what Boyne +understands. He's promised to use his influence with his family to let +him run down to see us there, if he can't get them all to come. You +might offer to personally conduct them." + +"Yes." said Breckon, with the effect of cloture. "Have you made many +acquaintances an board?" + +"What! Two lone women? You haven't introduced us to any but the +Kentons. But I dare say they are the best. The judge is a dear, and +Mrs. Kenton is everything that is motherly and matronly. Boyne says she +is very well informed, and knows all about the reigning families. If he +decides to marry into them, she can be of great use in saving him from a +mesalliance. I can't say very much for Miss Lottie. Miss Lottie seems +to me distinctly of the minx type. But that poor, pale girl is adorable. +I wish she liked me!" + +"What makes you think she doesn't like you?" Breckon asked. + +"What? Women don't require anything to convince them that other women +can't bear them. They simply know it. I wonder what has happened to +her?" + +"Why do you think anything has happened to her?" + +"Why? Well, girls don't have that air of melanholy absence for nothing. +She is brooding upon something, you may be sure. But you have had so +many more opportunities than I! Do you mean that you haven't suspected a +tragical past far her?" + +"I don't know," said Breckon, a little restively, "that I have allowed +myself to speculate about her past." + +"That is, you oughtn't to have allowed yourself to do so. Well, there I +agree with you. But a woman may do so without impertinence, and I am +sure that Miss Kenton has a story. I have watched her, and her face has +told me everything but the story." + +Breckon would not say that some such revelation had been made to him, and +in the absence of an answer from him Miss Rasmith asked, "Is she +cultivated, too?" + +"Too?" + +"Like her mother." + +"Oh! I should say she had read a good dial. And she's bookish, yes, in +a simple-hearted kind of way." + +"She asks you if you have read 'the book of the year,' and whether you +don't think the heroine is a beautiful character?" + +"Not quite so bad as that. But if you care to be serious about her!" + +"Oh, I do!" + +"I doubt it. Then, I should say that she seems to have grown up in a +place where the interests are so material that a girl who was disposed to +be thoughtful would be thrown back upon reading for her society more than +in more intellectual centres--if there are such things. She has been so +much with books that she does not feel odd in speaking of them as if they +were the usual topics of conversation. It gives her a certain +quaintness." + +"And that is what constitutes her charm?" + +"I didn't know that we were speaking of her charm." + +"No, that is true. But I was thinking of it. She fascinates me. Are +they going to get off at Boulogne?" + +"No, they are going on to Rotterdam." + +"To be sure! Boyne told me. And are you going on with them?" + +"I thought we talked of my going to Paris." Breckon looked round at her, +and she made a gesture of deprecation. + +"Why, of course! How could I forget? But I'm so much interested in Miss +Kenton that I can't think of anything else." + +"Not even of Miss Rasmith?" + +"Not even of Miss Rasmith. I know that she has a history, and that it's +a sad one." She paused in ironical hesitation. "You've been so good as +to caution me about her brother--and I never can be grateful enough--and +that makes me almost free to suggest--" + +She stopped again, and he asked, hardily, "What?" + +"Oh, nothing. It isn't for me to remind my pastor, my ghostly adviser"-- +she pulled down her mouth and glanced at him demurely--" and I will only +offer the generalization that a girl is never so much in danger of having +her heart broken as when she's had it broken--Oh, are you leaving me?" +she cried, as Breckon rose from his chair. + +"Well, then, send Boyne to me." She broke into a laugh as he faltered. +"Are you going to sit down again? That is right. And I won't talk any +more about Miss Kenton." + +"I don't mind talking of her," said Breckon. "Perhaps it will even be +well to do so if you are in earnest. Though it strikes me that you have +rather renounced the right to criticise me." + +"Now, is that logical? It seems to me that in putting myself in the +attitude of a final friend at the start, and refusing to be anything +more, I leave established my right to criticise you on the firmest basis. +I can't possibly be suspected of interested motives. Besides, you've +just been criticizing me, if you want a woman's reason!" + +"Well, go on." + +"Why, I had finished. That's the amusing part. I should have supposed +that I could go on forever about Miss Kenton, but I have nothing to go +upon. She has kept her secret very well, and so have the rest of them. +You think I might have got it out of Boyne? Perhaps I might, but you +know I have my little scruples. I don't think it would he quite fair, or +quite nice." + +"You are scrupulous. And I give you credit for having been more delicate +than I've been." + +"You don't mean you've been trying to find it out!" + +"Ah, now I'm not sure about the superior delicacy!" + +"Oh, how good!" said Miss Rasmith. "What a pity you should be wasted +in a calling that limits you so much." + +"You call it limiting? I didn't know but I had gone too far." + +"Not at all! You know there's nothing I like so much as those little +digs." + +"I had forgotten. Then you won't mind my saying that this surveillance +seems to me rather more than I have any right to from you." + +"How exquisitely you put it! Who else could have told me to mind my own +business so delightfully? Well, it isn't my business. I acknowledge +that, and I spoke only because I knew you would be sorry if you had gone +too far. I remembered our promise to be friends." + +She threw a touch of real feeling into her tone, and he responded, "Yes, +and I thank you for it, though it isn't easy." + +She put out her hand to him, and, as he questioningly took it, she +pressed his with animation. "Of course it isn't! Or it wouldn't be for +any other man. But don't you suppose I appreciate that supreme courage +of yours? There is nobody else-nobody!--who could stand up to an +impertinence and turn it to praise by such humility." + +"Don't go too far, or I shall be turning your praise to impertinence by +my humility. You're quite right, though, about the main matter. I +needn't suppose anything so preposterous as you suggest, to feel that +people are best left alone to outlive their troubles, unless they are of +the most obvious kind." + +"Now, if I thought I had done anything to stop you from offering that +sort of helpfulness which makes you a blessing to everybody, I should +never forgive myself." + +"Nothing so dire as that, I believe. But if you've made me question the +propriety of applying the blessing in all cases, you have done a very +good thing." + +Miss Rasmith was silent and apparently serious. After a moment she said, +"And I, for my part, promise to let poor little Boyne alone." + +Breckon laughed. "Don't burlesque it! Besides, I haven't promised +anything." + +"That is very true," said Miss Rasmith, and she laughed, too. + + + + +XVI. + +In one of those dramatic reveries which we all hold with ourselves when +fortune has pressingly placed us, Ellen Kenton had imagined it possible +for her to tell her story to the man who had so gently and truly tried to +be her friend. It was mostly in the way of explaining to him how she was +unworthy of his friendship that the story was told, and she fancied +telling it without being scandalized at violating the conventions that +should have kept her from even dreaming of such a thing. It was all +exalted to a plane where there was no question of fit or unfit in doing +it, but only the occasion; and he would never hear of the unworthiness +which she wished to ascribe to herself. Sometimes he mournfully left her +when she persisted, left her forever, and sometimes he refused, and +retained with her in a sublime kindness, a noble amity, lofty and serene, +which did not seek to become anything else. In this case she would break +from her reveries with self-accusing cries, under her breath, of "Silly, +silly! Oh, how disgusting!" and if at that moment Breckon were really +coming up to sit by her, she would blush to her hair, and wish to run +away, and failing the force for this, would sit cold and blank to his +civilities, and have to be skilfully and gradually talked back to self- +respect and self-tolerance. + +The recurrence of these reveries and their consequence in her made it +difficult for him to put in effect the promise he had given himself in +Miss Rasmith's presence. If Ellen had been eager to welcome his coming, +it would have been very simple to keep away from her, but as she appeared +anxious to escape him, and had to be entreated, as it were, to suffer his +society, something better than his curiosity was piqued, though that was +piqued, too. He believed that he saw her lapsing again into that morbid +state from which he had seemed once able to save her, and he could not +help trying again. He was the more bound to do so by the ironical +observance of Miss Rasmith, who had to be defied first, and then +propitiated; certainly, when she saw him apparently breaking faith with +her, she had a right to some sort of explanation, but certainly also she +had no right to a blind and unreasoning submission from him. His +embarrassment was heightened by her interest in Miss Kenton, whom, with +an admirable show of now finding her safe from Breckon's attractions, she +was always wishing to study from his observation. What was she really +like? The girl had a perfect fascination for her; she envied him his +opportunities of knowing her, and his privileges of making that +melancholy face light up with that heart-breaking smile, and of banishing +that delicious shyness with which she always seemed to meet him. Miss +Rasmith had noticed it; how could she help noticing it? + +Breckon wished to himself that she had been able to help noticing it, or +were more capable of minding her own business than she showed herself, +and his heart closed about Ellen with a tenderness that was dangerously +indignant. At the same time he felt himself withheld by Miss Rasmith's +witness from being all to the girl that he wished to be, and that he now +seemed to have been in those first days of storm, while Miss Rasmith and +her mother were still keeping their cabin. He foresaw that it would end +in Miss Rasmith's sympathetic nature not being able to withhold itself +from Ellen's need of cheerful companionship, and he was surprised, as +little as he was pleased, one morning, when he came to take the chair +beside her to find Miss Rasmith in it, talking and laughing to the girl, +who perversely showed herself amused. Miss Rasmith made as if to offer +him the seat, but he had to go away disappointed, after standing long +enough before them to be aware that they were suspending some topic while +he stayed. + +He naturally supposed the topic to be himself, but it was not so, or at +least not directly so. It was only himself as related to the scolding he +had given Miss Rasmith for trifling with the innocence of Boyne, which +she wished Miss Kenton to understand as the effect of a real affection +for her brother. She loved all boys, and Boyne was simply the most +delightful creature in the world. She went on to explain how delightful +he was, and showed a such an appreciation of the infantile sweetness +mingled with the mature severity of Boyne's character that Ellen could +not help being pleased and won. She told some little stories of Boyne +that threw a light also their home life in Tuskingum, and Miss Rasmith +declared herself perfectly fascinated, and wished that she could go and +live in Tuskingum. She protested that she should not find it dull; Boyne +alone would be entertainment enough; and she figured a circumstance so +idyllic from the hints she had gathered, that Ellen's brow darkened in +silent denial, and Miss Rasmith felt herself, as the children say in the +game, very hot in her proximity to the girl's secret. She would have +liked to know it, but whether she felt that she could know it when she +liked enough, or whether she should not be so safe with Breckon in +knowing it, she veered suddenly away, and said that she was so glad to +have Boyne's family know the peculiar nature of her devotion, which did +not necessarily mean running away with him, though it might come to that. +She supposed she was a little morbid about it from what Mr. Breckon had +been saying; he had a conscience that would break the peace of a whole +community, though he was the greatest possible favorite, not only with +his own congregation, which simply worshipped him, but with the best +society, where he was in constant request. + +It was not her fault if she did not overdo these history, but perhaps it +was all true about the number of girls who were ready and willing to +marry him. It might even be true, though she had no direct authority for +saying it, that he had made up his mind never to marry, and that was the +reason why he felt himself so safe in being the nicest sort of friend. +He was safe, Miss Rasmith philosophized, but whether other people were so +safe was a different question. There were girls who were said to be +dying for him; but of course those things were always said about a +handsome young minister. She had frankly taken him on his own ground, +from the beginning, and she believed that this was what he liked. At any +rate, they had agreed that they were never to be anything but the best of +friends, and they always had been. + +Mrs. Kenton came and shyly took the chair on Miss Rasmith's other side, +and Miss Rasmith said they had been talking about Mr. Breckon, and she +repeated what she had been saying to Ellen. Mrs. Kenton assented more +openly than Ellen could to her praises, but when she went away, and her +daughter sat passive, without comment or apparent interest, the mother +drew a long, involuntary sigh. + +"Do you like her, Ellen?" + +"She tries to be pleasant, I think." + +"Do you think she really knows much about Mr. Breckon?" + +"Oh yes. Why not? She belongs to his church." + +"He doesn't seem to me like a person who would have a parcel of girls +tagging after him." + +"That is what they do in the East, Boyne says." + +"I wish she would let Boyne alone. She is making a fool of the child. +He's round with her every moment. I think she ought to be ashamed, such +an old thing!" + +Ellen chose to protest, or thought it fair to do so. "I don't believe +she is doing him any harm. She just lets him talk out, and everybody +else checks him up so. It was nice of her to come and talk with me, when +we had all been keeping away from her. Perhaps he sent her, though. She +says they have always been such good friends because she wouldn't be +anything else from the beginning." + +"I don't see why she need have told you that." + +"Oh, it was just to show he was run after. I wonder if he thinks we are +running after him? Momma, I am tired of him! I wish he wouldn't speak +to me any more." + +"Why! do you really dislike him, Ellen?" + +"No, not dislike him. But it tires me to have him trying to amuse me. +Don't you understand?" + +Mrs. Kenton said yes, she understood, but she was clear only of the fact +that Ellen seemed flushed and weak at that moment. She believed that it +was Miss Rasmith and not Mr. Breckon who was to blame, but she said: +"Well, you needn't worry about it long. It will only be a day or two now +till we get to Boulogne, and then he will leave us. Hadn't you better go +down now, and rest awhile in your berth? I will bring your things." + +Ellen rose, pulling her wraps from her skirts to give them to her mother. +A voice from behind said between their meeting shoulders: "Oh, are you +going down? I was just coming to beg Miss Kenton to take a little walk +with me," and they looked round together and met Breckon's smiling face. + +"I'm afraid," Mrs. Kenton began, and then, like a well-trained American +mother, she stopped and left the affair to her daughter. + +"Do you think you can get down with them, momma?" the girl asked, and +somehow her mother's heart was lightened by her evasion, not to call it +uncandor. It was at least not morbid, it was at least like other girls, +and Mrs. Kenton imparted what comfort there was in it to the judge, when +he asked where she had left Ellen. + +"Not that it's any use," she sighed, when she had seen him share it with +a certain shamefacedness. "That woman has got her grip on him, and she +doesn't mean to let go." + +Kenton understood Miss Rasmith by that woman; but he would not allow +himself to be so easily cast down. This was one of the things that +provoked Mrs. Kenton with him; when he had once taken hope he would not +abandon it without reason. "I don't see any evidence of her having her +grip on him. I've noticed him, and he doesn't seem attentive to her. +I should say he tried to avoid her. He certainly doesn't avoid Ellen." + +"What are you thinking of, Rufus?" + +"What are you? You know we'd both be glad if he fancied her." + +"Well, suppose we would? I don't deny it. He is one of the most +agreeable gentlemen I ever saw; one of the kindest and nicest." + +"He's more than that," said the judge. "I've been sounding him on +various points, and I don't see where he's wrong. Of course, I don't +know much about his religious persuasion, if it is one, but I think I'm a +pretty fair judge of character, and that young man has character. He +isn't a light person, though he likes joking and laughing, and he +appreciates Ellen." + +"Yes, so do we. And there's about as much prospect of his marrying her. +Rufus, it's pretty hard! She's just in the mood to be taken with him, +but she won't let herself, because she knows it's of no use. That Miss +Rasmith has been telling her how much he is run after, and I could see +that that settled it for Ellen as plainly as if she said so. More +plainly, for there's enough of the girl in her to make her say one thing +when she means another. She was just saying she was sick of him, and +never wanted to speak to him again, when he came up and asked her to +walk, and she went with him instantly. I knew what she meant. She +wasn't going to let him suppose that anything Miss Rasmith had said was +going to change her." + +"Well, then," said the judge, "I don't see what you're scared at." + +I'm not SCARED. But, oh, Rufus! It can't come to anything! There isn't +time!" An hysterical hope trembled in her asseveration of despair that +made him smile. + +"I guess if time's all that's wanted--" + +"He is going to get off at Boulogne." + +"Well, we can get off there, too." + +"Rufus, if you dare to think of such a thing!" + +"I don't. But Europe isn't so big but what he can find us again if he +wants to." + +"Ah, if he wants to!" + +Ellen seemed to have let her mother take her languor below along with the +shawls she had given her. Buttoned into a close jacket, and skirted +short for the sea, she pushed against the breeze at Breckon's elbow with +a vigor that made him look his surprise at her. Girl-like, she took it +that something was wrong with her dress, and ran herself over with an +uneasy eye. + +Then he explained: "I was just thinking how much you were like Miss +Lottie-if you'll excuse my being so personal. And it never struck me +before." + +"I didn't suppose we looked alike," said Ellen. + +"No, certainly. I shouldn't have taken you for sisters. And yet, just +now, I felt that you were like her. You seem so much stronger this +morning--perhaps it's that the voyage is doing you good. Shall you be +sorry to have it end?" + +"Shall you? That's the way Lottie would answer." + +Breckon laughed. "Yes, it is. I shall be very sorry. I should be +willing to have it rough again, it that would make it longer. I liked +it's being rough. We had it to ourselves." He had not thought how that +sounded, but if it sounded particular, she did not notice it. + +She merely said, "I was surprised not to be seasick, too." + +"And should you be willing to have it rough again?" + +"You wouldn't see anything more of your friends, then." + +"Ah, yes; Miss Rasmith. She is a great talker, Did you find her +interesting?" + +"She was very interesting." + +"Yes? What did she talk about?" + +Ellen realized the fact too late to withhold "Why, about you." + +"And was that what made her interesting?" + +"Now, what would Lottie say to such a thing as that?" asked Ellen, +gayly. + +"Something terribly cutting, I'm afraid. But don't you! From you I +don't want to believe I deserve it, no matter what Miss Rasmith said me." + +"Oh, she didn't say anything very bad. Unless you mind being a universal +favorite." + +"Well, it makes a man out rather silly." + +"But you can't help that." + +"Now you remind me of Miss Lottie again!" + +"But I didn't mean that," said Ellen, blushing and laughing. "I hope you +wouldn't think I could be so pert." + +"I wouldn't think anything that wasn't to your praise," said Breckon, and +a pause ensued, after which the words he added seemed tame and flat. +"I suspect Miss Rasmith has been idealizing the situation. At any rate, +I shouldn't advise you to trust her report implicitly. I'm at the head +of a society, you know, ethical or sociological, or altruistic, whatever +you choose to call it, which hasn't any very definite object of worship, +and yet meets every Sunday for a sort of worship; and I have to be in the +pulpit. So you see?" + +Ellen said, "I think I understand," with a temptation to smile at the +ruefulness of his appeal. + +Breckon laughed for her. "That's the mischief and the absurdity of it. +But it isn't so bad as it seems. They're really most of them hard-headed +people; and those that are not couldn't make a fool of a man that nature +hadn't begun with. Still, I'm not very well satisfied with my work among +them--that is, I'm not satisfied with myself." He was talking soberly +enough, and he did not find that she was listening too seriously. "I'm +going away to see whether I shall come back." He looked at her to make +sure that she had taken his meaning, and seemed satisfied that she had. +"I'm not sure that I'm fit for any sort of ministry, and I may find the +winter in England trying to find out. I was at school in England, you +know." + +Ellen confessed that she had not known that. + +"Yes; I suppose that's what made me seem 'so Englishy' the first day to +Miss Lottie, as she called it. But I'm straight enough American as far +as parentage goes. Do you think you will be in England-later?" + +"I don't know. If poppa gets too homesick we will go back in the fall." + +"Miss Kenton," said the young man, abruptly, "will you let me tell you +how much I admire and revere your father?" + +Tears came into her eyes and her throat swelled. "But you don't know," +she begun; and then she stopped. + +"I have been wanting to submit something to his judgment; but I've been +afraid. I might seem to be fishing for his favor." + +"Poppa wouldn't think anything that was unjust," said Ellen, gravely. + +"Ah," Breckon laughed, "I suspect that I should rather have him unjust. +I wish you'd tell me what he would think." + +"But I don't know what it is," she protested, with a reflected smile. + +"I was in hopes Miss Rasmith might have told you. Well, it is simply +this, and you will see that I'm not quite the universal favorite she's +been making you fancy me. There is a rift in my lute, a schism in my +little society, which is so little that I could not have supposed there +was enough of it to break in two. There are some who think their +lecturer--for that's what I amount to--ought to be an older, if not a +graver man. They are in the minority, but they're in the right, I'm +afraid; and that's why I happen to be here telling you all this. It's +a question of whether I ought to go back to New York or stay in London, +where there's been a faint call for me." He saw the girl listening +devoutly, with that flattered look which a serious girl cannot keep out +of her face when a man confides a serious matter to her. "I might safely +promise to be older, but could I keep my word if I promised to be graver? +That's the point. If I were a Calvinist I might hold fast by faith, and +fight it out with that; or if I were a Catholic I could cast myself upon +the strength of the Church, and triumph in spite of temperament. Then it +wouldn't matter whether I was grave or gay; it might be even better if I +were gay. But," he went on, in terms which, doubtless, were not then for +the first time formulated in his mind, "being merely the leader of a sort +of forlorn hope in the Divine Goodness, perhaps I have no right to be so +cheerful." + +The note of a sad irony in his words appealed to such indignation for him +in Ellen as she never felt for herself. But she only said, "I don't +believe Poppa could take that in the wrong way if you told him." + +Breckon stared. "Yes your father! What would he say?" + +"I can't tell you. But I'm sure he would know what you meant." + +"And you," he pursued, "what should YOU say?" + +"I? I never thought about such a thing. You mustn't ask me, if you're +serious; and if you're not--" + +"But I am; I am deeply serious. I would like, to know how the case +strikes you. I shall be so grateful if you will tell me." + +"I'm sorry I can't, Mr. Breckon. Why don't you ask poppa?" + +"No, I see now I sha'n't be able. I feel too much, after telling you, as +if I had been posing. The reality has gone out of it all. And I'm +ashamed." + +"You mustn't be," she said, quietly; and she added, "I suppose it would +be like a kind of defeat if you didn't go back?" + +"I shouldn't care for the appearance of defeat," he said, courageously. +"The great question is, whether somebody else wouldn't be of more use in +my place." + +"Nobody could be," said she, in a sort of impassioned absence, and then +coming to herself, "I mean, they wouldn't think so, I don't believe." + +"Then you advise--" + +"No, no! I can't; I don't. I'm not fit to have an opinion about such a +thing; it would be crazy. But poppa--" + +They were at the door of the gangway, and she slipped within and left +him. His nerves tingled, and there was a glow in his breast. It was +sweet to have surprised that praise from her, though he could not have +said why he should value the praise or a girl of her open ignorance and +inexperience in everything that would have qualified her to judge him. +But he found himself valuing it supremely, and wonderingly wishing to be +worthy of it. + + + + +XVII. + +Ellen discovered her father with a book in a distant corner of the +dining-saloon, which he preferred to the deck or the library for his +reading, in such intervals as the stewards, laying and cleaning the +tables, left him unmolested in it. She advanced precipitately upon him, +and stood before him in an excitement which, though he lifted his dazed +eyes to it from his page, he was not entirely aware of till afterwards. +Then he realized that her cheeks were full of color, and her eyes of +light, and that she panted as if she had been running when she spoke. + +"Poppa," she said, "there is something that Mr. Breckon wants to speak to +you--to ask you about. He has asked me, but I want you to see him, for I +think he had better tell you himself." + +While he still stared at her she was as suddenly gone as she had come, +and he remained with his book, which the meaning had as suddenly left. +There was no meaning in her words, except as he put it into them, and +after he had got it in he struggled with it in a sort of perfunctory +incredulity. It was not impossible; it chiefly seemed so because it +seemed too good to be true; and the more he pondered it the more +possible, if not probable, it became. He could not be safe with it till +he had submitted it to his wife; and he went to her while he was sure of +repeating Ellen's words without varying from them a syllable. + +To his astonishment, Mrs. Kenton was instantly convinced. "Why, of +course," she said, "it can't possibly mean anything else. Why should it +be so very surprising? The time hasn't been very long, but they've been +together almost every moment; and he was taken with her from the very +beginning--I could see that. Put on your other coat," she said, as she +dusted the collar of the coat the judge was wearing. "He'll be looking +you up, at once. I can't say that it's unexpected," and she claimed a +prescience in the matter which all her words had hitherto denied. + +Kenton did not notice her inconsistency. "If it were not so exactly what +I wished," he said, "I don't know that I should be surprised at it +myself. Sarah, if I had been trying to imagine any one for Ellen, I +couldn't have dreamed of a person better suited to her than this young +man. He's everything that I could wish him to be. I've seen the +pleasure and comfort she took in his way from the first moment. He +seemed to make her forget--Do you suppose she has forgotten that +miserable wretch Do you think--" + +"If she hadn't, could she be letting him come to speak to you? I don't +believe she ever really cared for Bittridge--or not after he began +flirting with Mrs. Uphill." She had no shrinking from the names which +Kenton avoided with disgust. "The only question for you is to consider +what you shall say to Mr. Breckon." + +"Say to him? Why, of course, if Ellen has made up her mind, there's only +one thing I can say." + +"Indeed there is! He ought to know all about that disgusting Bittridge +business, and you have got to tell him." + +"Sarah, I couldn't. It is too humiliating. How would it do to refer him +to--You could manage that part so much better. I don't see how I could +keep it from seeming an indelicate betrayal of the poor child--" + +"Perhaps she's told him herself," Mrs. Kenton provisionally suggested. + +The judge eagerly caught at the notion. "Do you think so? It would be +like her! Ellen would wish him to know everything." + +He stopped, and his wife could see that he was trembling with excitement. +"We must find out. I will speak to Ellen--" + +"And--you don't think I'd better have the talk with him first?" + +"Certainly not!" + +"Why, Rufus! You were not going to look him up?" + +"No," he hesitated; but she could see that some such thing had been on +his mind. + +"Surely," she said, "you must be crazy!" But she had not the heart to +blight his joy with sarcasm, and perhaps no sarcasm would have blighted +it. + +"I merely wondered what I had better say in case he spoke to me before +you saw Ellen--that's all. Sarah! I couldn't have believed that +anything could please me so much. But it does seem as if it were the +assurance of Ellen's happiness; and she has deserved it, poor child! If +ever there was a dutiful and loving daughter--at least before that +wretched affair--she was one." + +"She has been a good girl," Mrs. Kenton stoically admitted. + +"And they are very well matched. Ellen is a cultivated woman. He never +could have cause to blush for her, either her mind or her manners, in any +circle of society; she would do him credit under any and all +circumstances. If it were Lottie--" + +"Lottie is all right," said her mother, in resentment of his preference; +but she could not help smiling at it. "Don't you be foolish about Ellen. +I approve of Mr. Breckon as much as you do. But it's her prettiness and +sweetness that's taken his fancy, and not her wisdom, if she's got him." + +"If she's got him?" + +"Well, you know what I mean. I'm not saying she hasn't. Dear knows, I +don't want to! I feel just as you do about it. I think it's the +greatest piece of good fortune, coming on top of all our trouble with +her. I couldn't have imagined such a thing." + +He was instantly appeased. "Are you going to speak with Ellen" he +radiantly inquired. + +"I will see. There's no especial hurry, is there?" + +"Only, if he should happen to meet me--" + +"You can keep out of his way, I reckon. Or You can put him off, +somehow." + +"Yes," Kenton returned, doubtfully. "Don't," he added, "be too blunt +with Ellen. You know she didn't say anything explicit to me." + +"I think I will know how to manage, Mr. Kenton." + +"Yes, of course, Sarah. I'm not saying that." + +Breckon did not apparently try to find the judge before lunch, and at +table he did not seem especially devoted to Ellen in her father's jealous +eyes. He joked Lottie, and exchanged those passages or repartee with her +in which she did not mind using a bludgeon when she had not a rapier at +hand; it is doubtful if she was very sensible of the difference. Ellen +sat by in passive content, smiling now and then, and Boyne carried on a +dignified conversation with Mr. Pogis, whom he had asked to lunch at his +table, and who listened with one ear to the vigorous retorts of Lottie in +her combat with Breckon. + +The judge witnessed it all with a grave displeasure, more and more +painfully apparent to his wife. She could see the impatience, the +gathering misgiving, in his face, and she perceived that she must not let +this come to conscious dissatisfaction with Breckon; she knew her husband +capable of indignation with trifling which would complicate the +situation, if it came to that. She decided to speak with Ellen as soon +as possible, and she meant to follow her to her state-room when they left +the table. But fate assorted the pieces in the game differently. Boyne +walked over to the place where Miss Rasmith was sitting with her mother; +Lottie and Mr. Pogis went off to practise duets together, terrible, four- +-handed torments under which the piano presently clamored; and Ellen +stood for a moment talked to by Mr. Breckon, who challenged her then for +a walk on deck, and with whom she went away smiling. + +Mrs. Kenton appealed with the reflection of the girl's happiness in her +face to the frowning censure in her husband's; but Kenton spoke first. +"What does he mean?" he demanded, darkly. "If he is making a fool of +her he'll find that that game can't be played twice, with impunity. +Sarah, I believe I should choke him." + +"Mr. Kenton!" she gasped, and she trembled in fear of him, even while +she kept herself with difficulty from shaking him for his folly. "Don't +say such a thing! Can't you see that they want to talk it over? If he +hasn't spoken to you it's because he wants to know how you took what she +said." Seeing the effect of these arguments, she pursued: "Will you +never have any sense? I will speak to Ellen the very minute I get her +alone, and you have just got to wait. Don't you suppose it's hard for +me, too? Have I got nothing to bear?" + +Kenton went silently back to his book, which he took with him to the +reading-room, where from time to time his wife came to him and reported +that Ellen and Breckon were still walking up and down together, or that +they were sitting down talking, or were forward, looking over at the +prow, or were watching the deck-passengers dancing. Her husband received +her successive advices with relaxing interest, and when she had brought +the last she was aware that the affair was entirely in her hands with all +the responsibility. After the gay parting between Ellen and Breckon, +which took place late in the afternoon, she suffered an interval to +elapse before she followed the girl down to her state-room. She found +her lying in her berth, with shining eyes and glad, red cheeks; she was +smiling to herself. + +"That is right, Ellen," her mother said. "You need rest after your long +tramp." + +"I'm not tired. We were sitting down a good deal. I didn't think how +late it was. I'm ever so much better. Where's Lottie?" + +"Off somewhere with that young Englishman," said Mrs. Kenton, as if that +were of no sort of consequence. "Ellen," she added, abruptly, trying +within a tremulous smile to hide her eagerness, "what is this that Mr. +Breckon wants to talk with your father about?" + +"Mr. Breckon? With poppa?" + +"Yes, certainly. You told him this morning that Mr. Breckon--" + +"Oh! Oh yes!" said Ellen, as if recollecting something that had slipped +her mind. "He wants poppa to advise him whether to go back to his +congregation in New York or not." + +Mrs. Kenton sat in the corner of the sofa next the door, looking into the +girl's face on the pillow as she lay with her arms under her head. Tears +of defeat and shame came into her eyes, and she could not see the girl's +light nonchalance in adding: + +"But he hasn't got up his courage yet. He thinks he'll ask him after +dinner. He says he doesn't want poppa to think he's posing. I don't +know what he means." + +Mrs. Kenton did not speak at once. Her bitterest mortification was not +for herself, but for the simple and tender father-soul which had been so +tried already. She did not know how he would bear it, the +disappointment, and the cruel hurt to his pride. But she wanted to fall +on her knees in thankfulness that he had betrayed himself only to her. + +She started in sudden alarm with the thought. "Where is he now-- +Mr. Breckon?" + +"He's gone with Boyne down into the baggage-room." + +Mrs. Kenton sank back in her corner, aware now that she would not have +had the strength to go to her husband even to save him from the awful +disgrace of giving himself away to Breckon. "And was that all?" she +faltered. + +"All?" + +"That he wanted to speak to your father about?" + +She must make irrefragably sure, for Kenton's sake, that she was not +misunderstanding. + +"Why, of course! What else? Why, momma! what are you crying about?" + +"I'm not crying, child. Just some foolishness of your father's. He +understood--he thought--" Mrs. Kenton began to laugh hysterically. "But +you know how ridiculous he is; and he supposed--No, I won't tell you!" + +It was not necessary. The girl's mind, perhaps because it was imbued +already with the subject, had possessed itself of what filled her +mother's. She dropped from the elbow on which she had lifted herself, +and turned her face into the pillow, with a long wail of shame. + + + + +XVIII. + +Mrs. Kenton's difficulties in setting her husband right were indefinitely +heightened by the suspicion that the most unsuspicious of men fell into +concerning Breckon. Did Breckon suppose that the matter could be turned +off in that way? he stupidly demanded; and when he was extricated from +this error by his wife's representation that Breckon had not changed at +all, but had never told Ellen that he wished to speak with him of +anything but his returning to his society, Kenton still could not accept +the fact. He would have contended that at least the other matter must +have been in Breckon's mind; and when he was beaten from this position, +and convinced that the meaning they had taken from Ellen's words had +never been in any mind but their own, he fell into humiliation so abject +that he could hide it only by the hauteur with which he carried himself +towards Breckon when they met at dinner. He would scarcely speak to the +young man; Ellen did not come to the table; Lottie and Boyne and their +friend Mr. Pogis were dining with the Rasmiths, and Mrs. Kenton had to +be, as she felt, cringingly kind to Breckon in explaining just the sort +of temporary headache that kept her eldest daughter away. He was more +than ordinarily sympathetic and polite, but he was manifestly bewildered +by Kenton's behavior. He refused an hilarious invitation from Mrs. +Rasmith, when he rose from table, to stop and have his coffee with her on +his way out of the saloon. His old adorer explained that she had ordered +a small bottle of champagne in honor of its being the night before they +were to get into Boulogne, and that he ought to sit down and help her +keep the young people straight. Julia, she brokenly syllabled, with the +gay beverage bubbling back into her throat, was not the least use; she +was worse than any. Julia did not look it, in the demure regard which +she bent upon her amusing mother, and Breckon persisted in refusing. He +said he thought he might safely leave them to Boyne, and Mrs. Rasmith +said into her handkerchief, "Oh yes! Boyne!" and pressed Boyne's sleeve +with her knobbed and jewelled fingers. + +It was evident where most of the small bottle had gone, but Breckon was +none the cheerfuller for the spectacle of Mrs. Rasmith. He could not +have a moment's doubt as to the sort of work he had been doing in New +York if she were an effect of it, and he turned his mind from the sad +certainty back to the more important inquiry as to what offence his wish +to advise with Judge Kenton could have conveyed. Ellen had told him in +the afternoon that she had spoken with her father about it, and she had +not intimated any displeasure or reluctance on him; but apparently he had +decided not to suffer himself to be approached. + +It might be as well. Breckon had not been able to convince himself that +his proposal to consult Judge Kenton was not a pose. He had flashes of +owning that it was contemplated merely as a means of ingratiating himself +with Ellen. Now, as he found his way up and down among the empty +steamer-chairs, he was aware, at the bottom of his heart, of not caring +in the least for Judge Kenton's repellent bearing, except as it possibly, +or impossibly, reflected some mood of hers. He could not make out her +not coming to dinner; the headache was clearly an excuse; for some reason +she did not wish to see him, he argued, with the egotism of his +condition. + +The logic of his conclusion was strengthened at breakfast by her +continued absence; and this time Mrs. Kenton made no apologies for her. +The judge was a shade less severe; or else Breckon did not put himself so +much in the way to be withheld as he had the night before. Boyne and +Lottie carried on a sort of muted scrap, unrebuked by their mother, who +seemed too much distracted in some tacit trouble to mind them. From time +to time Breckon found her eyes dwelling upon him wonderingly, +entreatingly; she dropped them, if she caught his, and colored. + +In the afternoon it was early evident that they were approaching +Boulogne. The hatch was opened and the sailors began getting up the +baggage of the passengers who were going to disembark. It seemed a long +time for everybody till the steamer got in; those going ashore sat on +their hand-baggage for an hour before the tug came up to take, them off. +Mr. Pogis was among them; he had begun in the forenoon to mark the +approaching separation between Lottie and himself by intervals of +unmistakable withdrawal. Another girl might have cared, but Lottie did +not care, for her failure to get a rise out of him by her mockingly +varied "Oh, I say!" and "Well, rather!" In the growth of his dignified +reserve Mr. Pogis was indifferent to jeers. By whatever tradition of +what would or would not do he was controlled in relinquishing her +acquaintance, or whether it was in obedience to some imperative ideal, or +some fearful domestic influence subtly making itself felt from the coasts +of his native island, or some fine despair of equalling the imagined +grandeur of Lottie's social state in Tuskingum by anything he could show +her in England, it was certain that he was ending with Lottie then and +there. At the same time he was carefully defining himself from the +Rasmiths, with whom he must land. He had his state-room things put at an +appreciable distance, where he did not escape a final stab from Lottie. + +"Oh, do give me a rose out of that," she entreated, in travestied +imploring, as he stood looking at a withered bouquet which the steward +had brought up with his rugs. + +"I'm takin' it home," he explained, coldly. + +"And I want to take a rose back to New York. I want to give it to a +friend of mine there." + +Mr. Pogis hesitated. Then he asked, "A man?" "Well, rather!" said +Lottie. + +He answered nothing, but looked definitively down at the flowers in his +hand. + +"Oh, I say!" Lottie exulted. + +Boyne remained fixed in fealty to the Rasmiths, with whom Breckon was +also talking as Mrs. Kenton came up with the judge. She explained how +sorry her daughter Ellen was at not being able to say goodbye; she was +still not at all well; and the ladies received her excuses with polite +patience. Mrs. Rasmith said she did not know what they should do without +Boyne, and Miss Rasmith put her arm across his shoulders and pulled him +up to her, and implored, "Oh, give him to me, Mrs. Kenton!" + +Boyne stole an ashamed look at his mother, and his father said, with an +unbending to Breckon which must have been the effect of severe +expostulation from Mrs. Kenton, "I suppose you and the ladies will go to +Paris together." + +"Why, no," Breckon said, and he added, with mounting confusion, "I--I had +arranged to keep on to Rotterdam. I was going to mention it." + +"Keep on to Rotterdam!" Mrs. Rasmith's eyes expressed the greatest +astonishment. + +"Why, of course, mother!" said her daughter. "Don't you know? Boyne +told us." + +Boyne, after their parting, seized the first chance of assuring his +mother that he had not told Miss Rasmith that, for he had not known it, +and he went so far in her condemnation to wonder how she could say such +a thing. His mother said it was not very nice, and then suggested that +perhaps she had heard it from some one else, and thought it was he. She +acquitted him of complicity with Miss Rasmith in forbearing to contradict +her; and it seemed to her a fitting time to find out from Boyne what she +honestly could about the relation of the Rasmiths to Mr. Breckon. It was +very little beyond their supposition, which every one else had shared, +that he was going to land with them at Boulogne, and he must have changed +his mind very suddenly. Boyne had not heard the Rasmiths speak of it. +Miss Rasmith never spoke of Mr. Breckon at all; but she seemed to want to +talk of Ellen; she was always asking about her, and what was the matter +with her, and how long she had been sick. + +"Boyne," said his mother, with a pang, "you didn't tell her anything +about Ellen?" + +"Momma!" said the boy, in such evident abhorrence of the idea that she +rested tranquil concerning it. She paid little attention to what Boyne +told her otherwise of the Rasmiths. Her own horizon were so limited that +she could not have brought home to herself within them that wandering +life the Rasmiths led from climate to climate and sensation to sensation, +with no stay so long as the annually made in New York, where they +sometimes passed months enough to establish themselves in giving and +taking tea in a circle of kindred nomads. She conjectured as ignorantly +as Boyne himself that they were very rich, and it would not have +enlightened her to know that the mother was the widow of a California +politician, whom she had married in the sort of middle period following +upon her less mortuary survival of Miss Rasmith's father, whose name was +not Rasmith. + +What Mrs. Kenton divined was that they had wanted to get Breckon, and +that so far as concerned her own interest in him they had wanted to get +him away from Ellen. In her innermost self-confidences she did not +permit herself the notion that Ellen had any right to him; but still it +was a relief to have them off the ship, and to have him left. Of all the +witnesses of the fact, she alone did not find it awkward. Breckon +himself found it very awkward. He did not wish to be with the Rasmiths, +but he found it uncomfortable not being with them, under the +circumstances, and he followed them ashore in tingling reveries of +explanation and apology. He had certainly meant to get off at Boulogne, +and when he had suddenly and tardily made up his mind to keep on to +Rotterdam, he had meant to tell them as soon as he had the labels on his +baggage changed. He had not meant to tell them why he had changed his +mind, and he did not tell them now in these tingling reveries. He did +not own the reason in his secret thoughts, for it no longer seemed a +reason; it no longer seemed a cause. He knew what the Rasmiths would +think; but he could easily make that right with his conscience, at least, +by parting with the Kentons at Rotterdam, and leaving them to find their +unconducted way to any point they chose beyond. He separated himself +uncomfortably from them when the tender had put off with her passengers +and the ship had got under way again, and went to the smoking-room, while +the judge returned to his book and Mrs. Kenton abandoned Lottie to her +own devices, and took Boyne aside for her apparently fruitless inquiries. + +They were not really so fruitless but that at the end of them she could +go with due authority to look up her husband. She gently took his book +from him and shut it up. "Now, Mr. Kenton," she began, "if you don't go +right straight and find Mr. Breckon and talk with him, I--I don't know +what I will do. You must talk to him--" + +"About Ellen?" the judge frowned. + +"No, certainly not. Talk with him about anything that interests you. Be +pleasant to him. Can't you see that he's going on to Rotterdam on our +account?" + +"Then I wish he wasn't. There's no use in it." + +"No matter! It's polite in him, and I want you to show him that you +appreciate it." + +"Now see here, Sarah," said the judge, "if you want him shown that we +appreciate his politeness why don't you do it yourself?" + +"I? Because it would look as if you were afraid to. It would look as if +we meant something by it." + +"Well, I am afraid; and that's just what I'm afraid of. I declare, my +heart comes into my mouth whenever I think what an escape we had. I +think of it whenever I look at him, and I couldn't talk to him without +having that in my mind all the time. No, women can manage those things +better. If you believe he is going along on our account, so as to help +us see Holland, and to keep us from getting into scrapes, you're the one +to make it up to him. I don't care what you say to show him our +gratitude. I reckon we will get into all sorts of trouble if we're left +to ourselves. But if you think he's stayed because he wants to be with +Ellen, and--" + +"Oh, I don't KNOW what I think! And that's silly I can't talk to him. +I'm afraid it'll seem as if we wanted to flatter him, and goodness knows +we don't want to. Or, yes, we do! I'd give anything if it was true. +Rufus, do you suppose he did stay on her account? My, oh, my! If I +could only think so! Wouldn't it be the best thing in the world for the +poor child, and for all of us? I never saw anybody that I liked so much. +But it's too good to be true." + +"He's a nice fellow, but I don't think he's any too good for Ellen." + +"I'm not saying he is. The great thing is that he's good enough, and +gracious knows what will happen if she meets some other worthless fellow, +and gets befooled with him! Or if she doesn't take a fancy to some one, +and goes back to Tuskingum without seeing any one else she likes, there +is that awful wretch, and when she hears what Dick did to him--she's just +wrong-headed enough to take up with him again to make amends to him. Oh, +dear oh, dear! I know Lottie will let it out to her yet!" + +The judge began threateningly, "You tell Lottie from me--" + +"What?" said the girl herself, who had seen her father and mother +talking together in a remote corner of the music-room and had stolen +light-footedly upon them just at this moment. + +"Lottie, child," said her mother, undismayed at Lottie's arrival in her +larger anxiety, "I wish you would try and be agreeable to Mr. Breckon. +Now that he's going on with us to Holland, I don't want him to think +we're avoiding him." + +"Why?" + +"Oh, because." + +"Because you want to get him for Ellen?" + +"Don't be impudent," said her father. "You do as your mother bids you." + +"Be agreeable to that old Breckon? I think I see myself! I'd sooner +read! I'm going to get a book now." She left them as abruptly as she +had come upon them, and ran across to the bookcase, where she remained +two stepping and peering through the glass doors at the literature +within, in unaccustomed question concerning it. + +"She's a case," said the judge, looking at her not only with relenting, +but with the pride in her sufficiency for all the exigencies of life +which he could not feel in Ellen. "She can take care of herself." + +"Oh yes," Mrs. Kenton sadly assented, I don't think anybody will ever +make a fool of Lottie." + +"It's a great deal more likely to be the other way," her father +suggested. + +"I think Lottie is conscientious," Mrs. Kenton protested. "She wouldn't +really fool with a man." + +"No, she's a good girl," the judge owned. + +"It's girls like Ellen who make the trouble and the care. They are too +good, and you have to think some evil in this world. Well!" She rose +and gave her husband back his book. + +"Do you know where Boyne is?" + +"No. Do you want him to be pleasant to Mr. Breckon?" + +"Somebody has got to. But it would be ridiculous if nobody but Boyne +was." + +She did not find Boyne, after no very exhaustive search, and the boy was +left to form his bearing towards Breckon on the behavior of the rest of +his family. As this continued helplessly constrained both in his father +and mother, and voluntarily repellent in Lottie, Boyne decided upon a +blend of conduct which left Breckon in greater and greater doubt of his +wisdom in keeping on to Rotterdam. There was no good reason which he +would have been willing to give himself, from the beginning. It had been +an impulse, suddenly coming upon him in the baggage-room where he had +gone to get something out of his trunk, and where he had decided to have +the label of his baggage changed from the original destination at +Boulogne to the final port of the steamer's arrival. When this was once +done he was sorry, but he was ashamed to have the label changed back. +The most assignable motive for his act was his reluctance to go on to +Paris with the Rasmiths, or rather with Mrs. Rasmith; for with her +daughter, who was not a bad fellow, one could always manage. He was +quite aware of being safely in his own hands against any design of Mrs. +Rasmith's, but her machinations humiliated him for her; he hated to see +her going through her manoeuvres, and he could not help grieving for her +failures, with a sort of impersonal sympathy, all the more because he +disliked her as little as he respected her. + +The motive which he did not assign to himself was that which probably +prevailed with him, though in the last analysis it was as selfish, no +doubt, as the one he acknowledged. Ellen Kenton still piqued his +curiosity, still touched his compassion. He had so far from exhausted +his wish or his power to befriend her, to help her, that he had still a +wholly unsatisfied longing to console her, especially when she drooped +into that listless attitude she was apt to take, with her face fallen and +her hands let lie, the back of one in the palm of the other, in her lap. +It was possibly the vision of this following him to the baggage-room, +when he went to open his trunk, that as much as anything decided him to +have the label changed on his baggage, but he did not own it then, and +still less did he own it now, when he found himself quite on his own +hands for his pains. + +He felt that for some reason the Kentons were all avoiding him. Ellen, +indeed, did not take part, against him, unless negatively, for she had +appeared neither at lunch nor at dinner as the vessel kept on its way +after leaving Boulogne; and when he ventured to ask for her Mrs. Kenton +answered with embarrassment that she was not feeling very well. He asked +for her at lunch, but not at dinner, and when he had finished that meal +he went on the promenade-deck, and walked forlornly up and down, feeling +that he had been a fool. + +Mrs. Kenton went below to her daughter's room, and found Ellen there on +the sofa, with her book shut on her thumb at the place where the twilight +had failed her. + +"Ellen, dear," her mother said, "aren't you feeling well?" + +"Yes, I'm well enough," said the girl, sensible of a leading in the +question. "Why?" + +"Oh, nothing. Only--only I can't make your father behave naturally with +Mr. Breckon. He's got his mind so full of that mistake we both came so +near making that he can't think of anything else. He's so sheepish about +it that he can hardly speak to him or even look at him; and I must +confess that I don't do much better. You know I don't like to put myself +forward where your father is, and if I did, really I don't believe I +could make up my mouth to say anything. I did want Lottie to be nice to +him, but Lottie dislikes him so! And even Boyne--well, it wouldn't +matter about Boyne, if he didn't seem to be carrying out a sort of family +plan--Boyne barely answers him when he speaks to him. I don't know what +he can think." Ellen was a good listener, and Mrs. Kenton, having +begun, did not stop till she had emptied the bag. "I just know that he +didn't get off at Boulogne because he wanted to stay on with us, and +thought he could be useful to us at The Hague, and everywhere; and here +we're acting as ungratefully! Why, we're not even commonly polite to +him, and I know he feels it. I know that he's hurt." + +Ellen rose and stood before the glass, into which he asked of her +mother's reflected face, while she knotted a fallen coil of hair into its +place, "Where is he?" + +"I don't know. He went on deck somewhere." + +Ellen put on her hat and pinned it, and put on her jacket and buttoned +it. Then she started towards the door. Her mother made way for her, +faltering, "What are you going to do, Ellen?" + +"I am going to do right." + +"Don't-catch cold!" her mother called after her figure vanishing down +the corridor, but the warning couched in these terms had really no +reference to the weather. + +The girl's impulse was one of those effects of the weak will in her which +were apt to leave her short of the fulfilment of a purpose. It carried +her as her as the promenade, which she found empty, and she went and +leaned upon the rail, and looked out over the sorrowful North Sea, which +was washing darkly away towards where the gloomy sunset had been. + +Steps from the other side of the ship approached, hesitated towards her, +and then arrested themselves. She looked round. + +"Why, Miss Kenton!" said Breckon, stupidly. + +"The sunset is over, isn't it?" she answered. + +"The twilight isn't." Breckon stopped; then he asked, "Wouldn't you like +to take a little walk?" + +"Yes," she answered, and smiled fully upon him. He had never known +before how radiant a smile she lead. + +"Better have my arm. It's getting rather dark." + +"Well." She put her hand on his arm and he felt it tremble there, while +she palpitated, "We are all so glad you could go on to Rotterdam. My +mother wanted me to tell you." + +"Oh, don't speak of that," said Breckon, not very appositely. Presently +he forced a laugh, in order to add, with lightness, "I was afraid perhaps +I had given you all some reason to regret it!" + +She said, "I was afraid you would think that--or momma was--and I +couldn't bear to have you." + +"Well, then, I won't." + + + + + +XIX. + +Breckon had answered with gayety, but his happiness was something beyond +gayety. He had really felt the exclusion from the Kentons in which he +had passed the day, and he had felt it the more painfully because he +liked them all. It may be owned that he liked Ellen best from the +beginning, and now he liked her better than ever, but even in the day's +exile he had not ceased to like each of them. They were, in their family +affection, as lovable as that sort of selfishness can make people. They +were very united and good to one another. Lottie herself, except in her +most lurid moments, was good to her brother and sister, and almost +invariably kind to her parents. She would not, Breckon saw, have brooked +much meddling with her flirtations from them, but as they did not offer +to meddle, she had no occasion to grumble on that score. She grumbled +when they asked her to do things for Ellen, but she did them, and though +she never did them without grumbling, she sometimes did them without +being asked. She was really very watchful of Ellen when it would least +have been expected, and sometimes she was sweet. She never was sweet +with Boyne, but she was often his friend, though this did not keep her +from turning upon him at the first chance to give him a little dig, or a +large one, for that matter. As for Boyne, he was a mass of helpless +sweetness, though he did not know it, and sometimes took himself for an +iceberg when he was merely an ice-cream of heroic mould. He was as +helplessly sweet with Lottie as with any one, and if he suffered keenly +from her treacheries, and seized every occasion to repay them in kind, +it was clearly a matter of conscience with him, and always for the good. +Their father and mother treated their squabbles very wisely, Breckon +thought. They ignored them as much as possible, and they recognized them +without attempting to do that justice between them which would have +rankled in both their breasts. + +To a spectator who had been critical at first, Mr. and Mrs. Kenton seemed +an exemplary father and mother with Ellen as well as with their other +children. It is easy to be exemplary with a sick girl, but they +increasingly affected Breckon as exemplary with Ellen. He fancied that +they acted upon each other beneficially towards her. At first he had +foreboded some tiresome boasting from the father's tenderness, and some +weak indulgence of the daughter's whims from her mother; but there was +either never any ground for this, or else Mrs. Kenton, in keeping her +husband from boasting, had been obliged in mere consistency to set a +guard upon her own fondness. + +It was not that. Ellen, he was more and more decided, would have abused +the weakness of either; if there was anything more angelic than her +patience, it was her wish to be a comfort to them, and, between the +caprices of her invalidism, to be a service. It was pathetic to see her +remembering to do things for them which Boyne and Lottie had forgotten, +or plainly shirked doing, and to keep the fact out of sight. She really +kept it out of sight with them, and if she did not hide it from so close +an observer as Breckon, that was more his fault than hers. When her +father first launched out in her praise, or the praise of her reading, +the young man had dreaded a rustic prig; yet she had never been a prig, +but simply glad of what book she had known, and meekly submissive to his +knowledge if not his taste. He owned that she had a right to her taste, +which he found almost always good, and accounted for as instinctive in +the absence of an imaginable culture in her imaginable ambient. So far +as he had glimpses of this, he found it so different from anything he had +known that the modest adequacy of Mrs. Kenton in the political +experiences of modern Europe, as well as the clear judgments of Kenton +himself in matters sometimes beyond Breekon himself, mystified him no +less than Ellen's taste. + +Even with the growth of his respect for their intelligence and his love +of their kindliness, he had not been able to keep a certain patronage +from mingling, and it was not till they evinced not only entire ability, +but an apparent wish to get on without his approval, without his +acquaintance even, that he had conceived a just sense of them. The like +is apt to happen with the best of us, when we are also the finest, and +Breckon was not singular in coming to a due consciousness of something +valuable only in the hour of its loss. He did not know that the loss was +only apparent. He knew that he had made a distinct sacrifice for these +people, and that, when he had prepared himself to befriend them little +short of self-devotion, they showed themselves indifferent, and almost +repellent. In the revulsion of feeling, when Ellen gave him her mother's +message, and frankly offered him reparation on behalf of her whole +family, he may have overdone his gratitude, but he did not overdo it to +her perception. They walked up and down the promenade of the Amstel, in +the watery North Sea moon, while bells after bells noted the hour +unheeded, and when they parted for the night it was with an involuntary +pressure of hands, from which she suddenly pulled hers, and ran down the +corridor of her state-room and Lottie's. + +He stood watching the narrow space in which she had vanished, and +thinking how gentle she was, and how she had contrived somehow to make +him feel that now it was she who had been consoling him, and trying to +interest him and amuse him. He had not realized that before; he had been +used to interesting and amusing her, but he could not resent it; he could +not resent the implication of superiority, if such a thing were possible, +which her kindness conveyed. The question with Breckon was whether she +had walked with him so long because she wished, in the hour, to make up +as fully as possible for the day's neglect, or because she had liked to +walk up and down with him. It was a question he found keeping itself +poignantly, yet pleasantly, in his mind, after he had got into his berth +under the solidly slumberous Boyne, and inclining now to one solution and +now to the other, with a delicate oscillation that was charming. + +The Amstel took her time to get into Rotterdam, and when her passengers +had gone ashore the next forenoon the train that carried Breckon to The +Hague in the same compartment with the Kentons was in no greater hurry. +It arrived with a deliberation which kept it from carrying them on to +Amsterdam before they knew it, and Mrs. Kenton had time to place such +parts of the wars in the Rise of the Dutch Republic as she could attach +to the names of the stations and the general features of the landscape. +Boyne was occupied with improvements for the windmills and the canal- +boats, which did not seem to him of the quality of the Michigan +aerometers, or the craft with which he was familiar on the Hudson River +and on the canal that passed through Tuskingum. Lottie, with respect to +the canals, offered the frank observation that they smelt, and in +recognizing a fact which travel almost universally ignores in Holland, +she watched her chance of popping up the window between herself and +Boyne, which Boyne put down with mounting rage. The agriculture which +triumphed everywhere on the little half--acre plots lifted fifteen inches +above the waters of the environing ditches, and the black and white +cattle everywhere attesting the immemorial Dutch ideal of a cow, were +what at first occupied Kenton, and he was tardily won from them to the +question of fighting over a country like that. It was a concession to +his wife's impassioned interest in the overthrow of the Spaniards in a +landscape which had evidently not changed since. She said it was hard to +realize that Holland was not still a republic, and she was not very +patient with Breckon's defence of the monarchy on the ground that the +young Queen was a very pretty girl. + +"And she is only sixteen," Boyne urged. + +"Then she is two years too old for you," said Lottie. + +"No such thing!" Boyne retorted. "I was fifteen in June." + +"Dear me! I should never have thought it," said his sister. + +Ellen seemed hardly to look out of the window at anything directly, but +when her father bade her see this thing and that, it seemed that she had +seen it already. She said at last, with a quiet sigh, "I never want to +go away." + +She had been a little shy of Breckon the whole morning, and had kept him +asking himself whether she was sorry she had walked so long with him the +night before, or, having offered him due reparation for her family, she +was again dropping him. Now and then he put her to the test by words +explicitly directed at her, and she replied with the dreamy passivity +which seemed her normal mood, and in which he could fancy himself half +forgotten, or remembered with an effort. + +In the midst of this doubt she surprised him--he reflected that she was +always surprising him--by asking him how far it was from The Hague to the +sea. He explained that The Hague was in the sea like all the rest of +Holland, but that if she meant the shore, it was no distance at all. +Then she said, vaguely, she wished they were going to the shore. Her +father asked Breckon if there was not a hotel at the beach, and the young +man tried to give him a notion of the splendors of the Kurhaus at +Scheveningen; of Scheveningen itself he despaired of giving any just +notion. + +"Then we can go there," said the judge, ignoring Ellen, in his decision, +as if she had nothing to do with it. + +Lottie interposed a vivid preference for The Hague. She had, she said, +had enough of the sea for one while, and did not want to look at it again +till they sailed for home. Boyne turned to his father as if a good deal +shaken by this reasoning, and it was Mrs. Kenton who carried the day for +going first to a hotel in The Hague and prospecting from there in the +direction of Scheveningen; Boyne and his father could go down to the +shore and see which they liked best. + +"I don't see what that has to do with me," said Lottie. No one was +alarmed by her announcement that if she did not like Scheveningen she +should stay at The Hague, whatever the rest did; in the event fortune +favored her going with her family. + +The hotel in The Hague was very pleasant, with a garden behind it, where +a companionable cat had found a dry spot, and where Lottie found the cat +and made friends with it. But she said the hotel was full of Cook's +tourists, whom she recognized, in spite of her lifelong ignorance of +them, by a prescience derived from the conversation of Mr. Pogis, and +from the instinct of a society woman, already rife in her. She found +that she could not stay in a hotel with Cook's tourists, and she took her +father's place in the exploring party which went down to the watering- +place in the afternoon, on the top of a tram-car, under the leafy roof of +the adorable avenue of trees which embowers the track to Scheveningen. +She disputed Boyne's impressions of the Dutch people, whom he found +looking more like Americans than any foreigners he had seen, and she +snubbed Breckon from his supposed charge of the party. But after the +start, when she declared that Ellen could not go, and that it was +ridiculous for her to think of it, she was very good to her, and looked +after her safety and comfort with a despotic devotion. + +At the Kurhaus she promptly took the lead in choosing rooms, for she had +no doubt of staying there after the first glance at the place, and she +showed a practical sense in settling her family which at least her mother +appreciated when they were installed the next day. + +Mrs. Kenton could not make her husband admire Lottie's faculty so +readily. "You think it would have been better for her to sit down with +Ellen, on the sand and dream of the sea," she reproached him, with a +tender resentment on behalf of Lottie. "Everybody can't dream." + +"Yes, but I wish she didn't keep awake with such a din," said the judge. +After all, he admired Lottie's judgment about the rooms, and he censured +her with a sigh of relief from care as he sank back in the easy-chair +fronting the window that looked out on the North Sea; Lottie had already +made him appreciate the view till he was almost sick of it. + +"What is the matter?" said Mrs. Kenton, sharply. "Do you want to be in +Tuskingum? I suppose you would rather be looking into Richard's back- +yard." + +"No," said the judge, mildly, "this is very nice." + +"It will do Ellen good, every minute. I don't care how much she sits on +the sands and dream. I'll love to see her." + +The sitting on the sand was a survival of Mr. Kenton's preoccupations of +the sea-side. As a mater of fact, Ellen was at that moment sitting in +one of the hooked wicker arm-chairs which were scattered over the whole +vast beach like a growth of monstrous mushrooms, and, confronting her in +cosey proximity, Breckon sat equally hidden in another windstuhl. Her +father and her mother were able to keep them placed, among the multitude +of windsiuhls, by the presence of Lottie, who hovered near them, and, +with Boyne, fended off the demure, wicked-looking little Scheveningen +girls. On a smaller scale these were exactly like their demure, wicked- +looking Scheveningen mothers, and they approached with knitting in their +hands, and with large stones folded in their aprons, which they had +pilfered from the mole, and were trying to sell for footstools. The +windstuhl men and they were enemies, and when Breckon bribed them to go +away, the windstuhl men chased them, and the little girls ran, making +mouths at Boyne over their shoulders. He scorned to notice them; but he +was obliged to report the misconduct of Lottie, who began making eyes at +the Dutch officers as soon as she could feel that Ellen was safely off +her hands. She was the more exasperating and the more culpable to Boyne, +because she had asked him to walk up the beach with her, and had then +made the fraternal promenade a basis of operations against the Dutch +military. She joined her parents in ignoring Boyne's complaints, and +continued to take credit for all the pleasant facts of the situation; she +patronized her family as much for the table d'hote at luncheon as for the +comfort of their rooms. She was able to assure them that there was not a +Cook's tourist in the hotel, where there seemed to be nearly every other +kind of fellow-creature. At the end of the first week she had +acquaintance of as many nationalities as she could reach in their native +or acquired English, in all the stages of haughty toleration, vivid +intimacy, and cold exhaustion. She had a faculty for getting through +with people, or of ceasing to have any use for them, which was perhaps +her best safeguard in her adventurous flirting; while the simple aliens +were still in the full tide of fancied success, Lottie was sick of them +all, and deep in an indiscriminate correspondence with her young men in +Tuskingum. + +The letters which she had invited from these while still in New York +arrived with the first of those readdressed from the judge's London +banker. She had more letters than all the rest of the family together, +and counted a half-dozen against a poor two for her sister. Mrs. Kenton +cared nothing about Lottie's letters, but she was silently uneasy about +the two that Ellen carelessly took. She wondered who could be writing to +Ellen, especially in a cover bearing a handwriting altogether strange to +her. + +"It isn't from Bittridge, at any rate," she said to her husband, in the +speculation which she made him share. "I am always dreading to have her +find out what Richard did. It would spoil everything, I'm afraid, and +now everything is going so well. I do wish Richard hadn't, though, of +course, he did it for the best. Who do you think has been writing to +her?" + +"Why don't you ask her?" + +"I suppose she will tell me after a while. I don't like to seem to be +following her up. One was from Bessie Pearl, I think." + +Ellen did not speak of her letters to her mother, and after waiting a day +or two, Mrs. Kenton could not refrain from asking her. + +"Oh, I forgot," said Ellen. "I haven't read them yet." + +"Haven't read them!" said Mrs. Kenton. Then, after reflection, she +added, "You are a strange girl, Ellen," and did not venture to say more. + +"I suppose I thought I should have to answer them, and that made me +careless. But I will read them." Her mother was silent, and presently +Ellen added: "I hate to think of the past. Don't you, momma?" + +"It is certainly very pleasant here," said Mrs. Kenton, cautiously. +"You're enjoying yourself--I mean, you seem to be getting so much +stronger." + +"Why, momma, why do you talk as if I had been sick?" Ellen asked. + +"I mean you're so much interested." + +"Don't I go about everywhere, like anybody?" Ellen pursued, ignoring her +explanation. + +"Yes, you certainly do. Mr. Breckon seems to like going about." + +Ellen did not respond to the suggestion except to say: "We go into all +sorts of places. This morning we went up on that schooner that's drawn +up on the beach, and the old man who was there was very pleasant. +I thought it was a wreck, but Mr. Breckon says they are always drawing +their ships that way up on the sand. The old man was patching some of +the wood-work, and he told Mr. Breckon--he can speak a little Dutch--that +they were going to drag her down to the water and go fishing as soon as +he was done. He seemed to think we were brother and sister." She +flushed a little, and then she said: "I believe I like the dunes as well +as anything. Sometimes when those curious cold breaths come in from the +sea we climb up in the little hollows on the other side and sit there out +of the draft. Everybody seems to do it." + +Apparently Ellen was submitting the propriety of the fact to her mother, +who said: "Yes, it seems to be quite the same as it is at home. I always +supposed that it was different with young people here. There is +certainly no harm in it." + +Ellen went on, irrelevantly. "I like to go and look at the Scheveningen +women mending the nets on the sand back of the dunes. They have such +good gossiping times. They shouted to us last evening, and then laughed +when they saw us watching them. When they got through their work they +got up and stamped off so strong, with their bare, red arms folded into +their aprons, and their skirts sticking out so stiff. Yes, I should like +to be like them." + +"You, Ellen!" + +"Yes; why not?" + +Mrs. Kenton found nothing better to answer than, + +"They were very material looking." + +"They are very happy looking. They live in the present. That is what I +should like: living in the present, and not looking backwards or +forwards. After all, the present is the only life we've got, isn't it?" + +"I suppose you may say it is," Mrs. Kenton admitted, not knowing just +where the talk was leading, but dreading to interrupt it. + +"But that isn't the Scheveningen woman's only ideal. Their other ideal +is to keep the place clean. Saturday afternoon they were all out +scrubbing the brick sidewalks, and clear into the middle of the street. +We were almost ashamed to walk over the nice bricks, and we picked out as +many dirty places as we could find." + +Ellen laughed, with a light-hearted gayety that was very strange to her, +and Mrs. Kenton, as she afterwards told her husband, did not know what to +think. + +"I couldn't help wondering," she said, "whether the poor child would have +liked to keep on living in the present a month ago." + +"Well, I'm glad you didn't say so," the judge answered. + + + + +XX. + +From the easy conquest of the men who looked at her Lottie proceeded to +the subjection of the women. It would have been more difficult to put +these down, if the process had not been so largely, so almost entirely +subjective. As it was, Lottie exchanged snubs with many ladies of the +continental nationalities who were never aware of having offered or +received offence. In some cases, when they fearlessly ventured to speak +with her, they behaved very amiable, and seemed to find her conduct +sufficiently gracious in return. In fact, she was approachable enough, +and had no shame, before Boyne, in dismounting from the high horse which +she rode when alone with him, and meeting these ladies on foot, at least +half-way. She made several of them acquainted with her mother, who, +after a timorous reticence, found them very conversable, with a range of +topics, however, that shocked her American sense of decorum. One Dutch +lady talked with such manly freedom, and with such untrammelled intimacy, +that she was obliged to send Boyne and Lottie about their business, upon +an excuse that was not apparent to the Dutch lady. She only complimented +Mrs. Kenton upon her children and their devotion to each other, and when +she learned that Ellen was also her daughter, ventured the surmise she +was not long married. + +"It isn't her husband," Mrs. Kenton explained, with inward trouble. +"It's just a gentleman that came over with us," and she went with her +trouble to her own husband as soon as she could. + +"I'm afraid it isn't the custom to go around alone with young men as much +as Ellen thinks," she suggested. + +"He ought to know," said the judge. "I don't suppose he would if it +wasn't." + +"That is true," Mrs. Kenton owned, and for the time she put her +misgivings away. + +"So long as we do nothing wrong," the judge decided, "I don't see why we +should not keep to our own customs." + +"Lottie says they're not ours, in New York." + +"Well, we are not in New York now." + +They had neither of them the heart to interfere with Ellen's happiness, +for, after all, Breckon was careful enough of the appearances, and it was +only his being constantly with Ellen that suggested the Dutch lady's +surmise. In fact, the range of their wanderings was not beyond the +dunes, though once they went a little way on one of the neatly bricked +country roads that led towards The Hague. As yet there had been no +movement in any of the party to see the places that lie within such easy +tram-reach of The Hague, and the hoarded interest of the past in their +keeping. Ellen chose to dwell in the actualities which were an +enlargement of her own present, and Lottie's active spirit found +employment enough in the amusements at the Kurhaus. She shopped in the +little bazars which make a Saratoga under the colonnades fronting two +sides of the great space before the hotel, and she formed a critical and +exacting taste in music from a constant attendance at the afternoon +concerts; it is true that during the winter in New York she had cast +forever behind her the unsophisticated ideals of Tuskingum in the art, so +that from the first she was able to hold the famous orchestra that played +in the Kurhaus concert-room up to the highest standard. She had no use +for anybody who had any use for rag-time, and she was terribly severe +with a young American, primarily of Boyne's acquaintance, who tried to +make favor with her by asking about the latest coon-songs. She took the +highest ethical ground with him about tickets in a charitable lottery +which he had bought from the portier, but could not move him on the lower +level which he occupied. He offered to give her the picture which was +the chief prize, in case he won it, and she assured him beforehand that +she should not take it. She warned Boyne against him, under threats of +exposure to their mother, as not a good influence, but one afternoon, +when the young Queen of Holland came to the concert with the queen- +mother, Lottie cast her prejudices to the winds in accepting the places +which the wicked fellow-countryman offered Boyne and herself, when they +had failed to get any where they could see the queens, as the Dutch +called them. + +The hotel was draped with flags, and banked with flowers about the main +entrance where the queens were to arrive, and the guests massed +themselves in a dense lane for them to pass through. Lottie could not +fail to be one of the foremost in this array, and she was able to decide, +when the queens had passed, that the younger would not be considered a +more than average pretty girl in America, and that she was not very well +dressed. They had all stood within five feet of her, and Boyne had +appropriated one of the prettiest of the pretty bends which the gracious +young creature made to right and left, and had responded to it with an +'empressement' which he hoped had not been a sacrifice of his republican +principles. + +During the concert he sat with his eyes fixed upon the Queen where she +sat in the royal box, with her mother and her ladies behind her, and +wondered and blushed to wonder if she had noticed him when be bowed, or +if his chivalric devotion in applauding her when the audience rose to +receive her had been more apparent than that of others; whether it had +seemed the heroic act of setting forth at the head of her armies, to beat +back a German invasion, which it had essentially been, with his +instantaneous return as victor, and the Queen's abdication and adoption +of republican principles under conviction of his reasoning, and her +idolized consecration as the first chief of the Dutch republic. His +cheeks glowed, and he quaked at heart lest Lottie should surprise his +thoughts and expose them to that sarcastic acquaintance, who proved to be +a medical student resting at Scheveningen from the winter's courses and +clinics in, Vienna. He had already got on to many of Boyne s curves, and +had sacrilegiously suggested the Queen of Holland when he found him +feeding his fancy on the modern heroical romances; he advised him as an +American adventurer to compete with the European princes paying court to +her. So thin a barrier divided that malign intelligence from Boyne's +most secret dreams that he could never feel quite safe from him, and yet +he was always finding himself with him, now that he was separated from +Miss Rasmith, and Mr. Breckon was taken up so much with Ellen. On the +ship he could put many things before Mr. Breckon which must here perish +in his breast, or suffer the blight of this Mr. Trannel's raillery. The +student sat near the Kentons at table, and he was no more reverent of the +judge's modest convictions than of Boyne's fantastic preoccupations. The +worst of him was that you could not help liking him: he had a fascination +which the boy felt while he dreaded him, and now and then he did +something so pleasant that when he said something unpleasant you could +hardly believe it. + +At the end of the concert, when he rose and stood with all the rest, +while the royal party left their box, and the orchestra played the Dutch +national hymn, he said, in a loud whisper, to Boyne: "Now's your time, my +boy! Hurry out and hand her into her carriage!" + +Boyne fairly reeled at the words which translated a passage of the wild +drama playing itself in his brain, and found little support in bidding +his tormentor, "Shut up!" The retort, rude as it was, seemed +insufficient, but Boyne tried in vain to think of something else. He +tried to punish him by separating Lottie from him, but failed as signally +in that. She went off with him, and sat in a windstuhl facing his the +rest of the afternoon, with every effect of carrying on. + +Boyne was helpless, with his mother against it, when he appealed to her +to let him go and tell Lottie that she wanted her. Mrs. Kenton said that +she saw no harm in it, that Ellen was sitting in like manner with Mr. +Breckon. + +"Mr. Breckon is very different, and Ellen knows how to behave," he urged, +but his mother remained unmoved, or was too absent about something to +take any interest in the matter. In fact, she was again unhappy about +Ellen, though she put on such an air of being easy about her. Clearly, +so far as her maternal surmise could fathom the case, Mr. Breckon was +more and more interested in Ellen, and it was evident that the child was +interested in him. The situation was everything that was acceptable to +Mrs. Kenton, but she shuddered at the cloud which hung over it, and which +might any moment involve it. Again and again she had made sure that +Lottie had given Ellen no hint of Richard's ill-advised vengeance upon +Bittridge; but it was not a thing that could be kept always, and the +question was whether it could be kept till Ellen had accepted Mr. Breckon +and married him. This was beyond the question of his asking her to do +so, but it was so much more important that Mrs. Kenton was giving it her +attention first, quite out of the order of time. Besides, she had every +reason, as she felt, to count upon the event. Unless he was trifling +with Ellen, far more wickedly than Bittridge, he was in love with her, +and in Mrs. Kenton's simple experience and philosophy of life, being in +love was briefly preliminary to marrying. If she went with her anxieties +to her husband, she had first to reduce him from a buoyant optimism +concerning the affair before she could get him to listen seriously. +When this was accomplished he fell into such despair that she ended in +lifting him up and supporting him with hopes that she did not feel +herself. What they were both united in was the conviction that nothing +so good could happen in the world, but they were equally united in the +old American tradition that they must not lift a finger to secure this +supreme good for their child. + +It did not seem to them that leaving the young people constantly to +themselves was doing this. They interfered with Ellen now neither more +nor less than they had interfered with her as to Bittridge, or than they +would have interfered with her in the case of any one else. She was +still to be left entirely to herself in such matters, and Mrs. Kenton +would have kept even her thoughts off her if she could. She would have +been very glad to give her mind wholly to the study of the great events +which had long interested her here in their scene, but she felt that +until the conquest of Mr. Breckon was secured beyond the hazard of +Ellen's morbid defection at the supreme moment, she could not give her +mind to the history of the Dutch republic. + +"Don't bother me about Lottie, Boyne," she said. I have enough to think +of without your nonsense. If this Mr. Trannel is an American, that is +all that is necessary. We are all Americans together, and I don't +believe it will make remark, Lottie's sitting on the beach with him." + +"I don't see how he's different from that Bittridge," said Boyne. "He +doesn't care for anything; and he plays the banjo just like him." + +Mrs. Kenton was too troubled to laugh. She said, with finality, "Lottie +can take care of herself," and then she asked, "Boyne, do you know whom +Ellen's letters were from?" + +"One was from Bessie Pearl--" + +"Yes, she showed me that. But you don't know who the other was from?" + +"No; she didn't tell me. You know how close Ellen is." + +"Yes," the mother sighed, "she is very odd." + +Then she added, "Don't you let her know that I asked you about her +letters." + +"No," said Boyne. His audience was apparently at an end, but he seemed +still to have something on his mind. "Momma," he began afresh. + +"Well?" she answered, a little impatiently. + +"Nothing. Only I got to thinking, Is a person able to control their-- +their fancies?" + +"Fancies about what?" + +"Oh, I don't know. About falling in love." Boyne blushed. + +"Why do you want to know? You musn't think about such things, a boy like +you! It's a great pity that you ever knew anything about that Bittridge +business. It's made you too bold. But it seems to have been meant to +drag us down and humiliate us in every way." + +"Well, I didn't try to know anything about it," Boyne retorted. + +"No, that's true," his mother did him the justice to recognize. "Well, +what is it you want to know?" Boyne was too hurt to answer at once, and +his mother had to coax him a little. She did it sweetly, and apologized +to him for saying what she had said. After all, he was the youngest, and +her baby still. Her words and caresses took effect at last, and he +stammered out, "Is everybody so, or is it only the Kentons that seem to +be always putting--well, their affections--where it's perfectly useless?" + +His mother pushed him from her. "Boyne, are you silly about that +ridiculous old Miss Rasmith?" + +"No!" Boyne shouted, savagely, "I'm NOT!" + +"Who is it, then?" + +"I sha'n't tell you!" Boyne said, and tears of rage and shame came into +his eyes. + + + + + +XXI. + +In his exile from his kindred, for it came practically to that, Boyne was +able to add a fine gloom to the state which he commonly observed with +himself when he was not giving way to his morbid fancies or his morbid +fears, and breaking down in helpless subjection to the nearest member of +his household. Lottie was so taken up with her student that she scarcely +quarrelled with him any more, and they had no longer those moments of +union in which they stood together against the world. His mother had +cast him off, as he felt, very heartlessly, though it was really because +she could not give his absurdities due thought in view of the hopeful +seriousness of Ellen's affair, and Boyne was aware that his father at the +best of times was ignorant of him when he was not impatient of him. +These were not the best of times with Judge Kenton, and Boyne was not the +first object of his impatience. In the last analysis he was living until +he could get home, and so largely in the hope of this that his wife at +times could scarcely keep him from taking some step that would decide the +matter between Ellen and Breckon at once. They were tacitly agreed that +they were waiting for nothing else, and, without making their agreement +explicit, she was able to quell him by asking what he expected to do in +case there was nothing between them? Was he going to take the child back +to Tuskingum, which was the same as taking her back to Bittridge? it hurt +her to confront him with this question, and she tried other devices for +staying and appeasing him. She begged him now, seeing Boyne so forlorn, +and hanging about the hotel alone, or moping over those ridiculous books +of his, to go off with the boy somewhere and see the interesting places +within such easy reach, like Leyden and Delft if he cared nothing for the +place where William the Silent was shot, he ought to see the place that +the Pilgrims started from. She had counted upon doing those places +herself, with her husband, and it was in a sacrifice of her ideal that +she now urged him to go with Boyne. But her preoccupation with Ellen's +affair forbade her self-abandon to those high historical interests to +which she urged his devotion. She might have gone with him and Boyne, but +then she must have left the larger half of her divided mind with Ellen, +not to speak of Lottie, who refused to be a party to any such excursion. +Mrs. Kenton felt the disappointment and grieved at it, but not without +hope of repairing it later, and she did not cease from entreating the +judge to do what he could at once towards fulfilling the desires she +postponed. Once she prevailed with him, and really got him and Boyne off +for a day, but they came back early, with signs of having bored each +other intolerably, and after that it was Boyne, as much as his father, +who relucted from joint expeditions. Boyne did not so much object to +going alone, and his father said it was best to let him, though his +mother had her fears for her youngest. He spent a good deal of his time +on the trams between Scheveningen and The Hague, and he was understood to +have explored the capital pretty thoroughly. In fact, he did go about +with a valet de place, whom he got at a cheap rate, and with whom he +conversed upon the state of the country and its political affairs. The +valet said that the only enemy that Holland could fear was Germany, but +an invasion from that quarter could be easily repulsed by cutting the +dikes and drowning the invaders. The sea, he taught Boyne, was the great +defence of Holland, and it was a waste of money to keep such an army as +the Dutch had; but neither the sea nor the sword could drive out the +Germans if once they insidiously married a Prussian prince to the Dutch +Queen. + +There seemed to be no getting away from the Queen, for Boyne. The valet +not only talked about her, as the pleasantest subject which he could +find, but he insisted upon showing Boyne all her palaces. He took him +into the Parliament house, and showed him where she sat while the queen- +mother read the address from the throne. He introduced him at a bazar +where the shop-girl who spoke English better than Boyne, or at least +without the central Ohio accent, wanted to sell him a miniature of the +Queen on porcelain. She said the Queen was such a nice girl, and she was +herself such a nice girl that Boyne blushed a little in looking at her. +He bought the miniature, and then he did not know what to do with it; if +any of the family, if Lottie, found out that he had it, or that Trannel, +he should have no peace any more. He put it in his pocket, provisionally, +and when he came giddily out of the shop he felt himself taken by the +elbow and placed against the wall by the valet, who said the queens were +coming. They drove down slowly through the crowded, narrow street, +bowing right and left to the people flattened against the shops, and +again Boyne saw her so near that he could have reached out his hand and +almost touched hers. + +The consciousness of this was so strong in him that he wondered whether +he had not tried to do so. If he had he would have been arrested-- +he knew that; and so he knew that he had not done it. He knew that he +imagined doing so because it would be so awful to have done it, and he +imagined being in love with her because it would be so frantic. At the +same time he dramatized an event in which he died for her, and she became +aware of his hopeless passion at the last moment, while the anarchist +from whom he had saved her confessed that the bomb had been meant for +her. Perhaps it was a pistol. + +He escaped from the valet as soon as he could, and went back to +Scheveningen limp from this experience, but the queens were before him. +They had driven down to visit the studio of a famous Dutch painter there, +and again the doom was on Boyne to press forward with the other +spectators and wait for the queens to appear and get into their carriage. +The young Queen's looks were stamped in Boyne's consciousness, so that he +saw her wherever he turned, like the sun when one has gazed at it. He +thought how that Trannel had said he ought to hand her into her carriage, +and he shrank away for fear he should try to do so, but he could not +leave the place till she had come out with the queen--mother and driven +off. Then he went slowly and breathlessly into the hotel, feeling the +Queen's miniature in his pocket. It made his heart stand still, and then +bound forward. He wondered again what he should do with it. If he kept +it, Lottie would be sure to find it, and he could not bring himself to +the sacrilege of destroying it. He thought he would walk out on the +breakwater as far as he could and throw it into the sea, but when he got +to the end of the mole he could not do so. He decided that he would give +it to Ellen to keep for him, and not let Lottie see it; or perhaps he +might pretend he had bought it for her. He could not do that, though, +for it would not be true, and if he did he could not ask her to keep it +from Lottie. + +At dinner Mr. Trannel told him he ought to have been there to see the +Queen; that she had asked especially for him, and wanted to know if they +had not sent up her card to him. Boyne meditated an apt answer through +all the courses, but he had not thought of one when they had come to the +'corbeille de fruits', and he was forced to go to bed without having +avenged himself. + +In taking rooms for her family at the hotel, Lottie had arranged for her +emancipation from the thraldom of rooming with Ellen. She said that had +gone on long enough; if she was grown up at all, she was grown up enough +to have a room of her own, and her mother had yielded to reasoning which +began and ended with this position. She would have interfered so far as +to put Lottie into the room next her, but Lottie said that if Boyne was +the baby he ought to be next his mother; Ellen might come next him, but +she was going to have the room that was furthest from any implication of +the dependence in which she had languished; and her mother submitted +again. Boyne was not sorry; there had always been hours of the night +when he felt the need of getting at his mother for reassurance as to +forebodings which his fancy conjured up to trouble him in the wakeful +dark. It was understood that he might freely do this, and though the +judge inwardly fretted, he could not deny the boy the comfort of his +mother's encouraging love. Boyne's visits woke him, but he slept the +better for indulging in the young nerves that tremor from impressions +against which the old nerves are proof. But now, in the strange fatality +which seemed to involve him, Boyne could not go to his mother. It was +too weirdly intimate, even for her; besides, when he had already tried to +seek her counsel she had ignorantly repelled him. + +The night after his day in The Hague, when he could bear it no longer, he +put on his dressing-gown and softly opened Ellen's door, awake, Ellen?" +he whispered. + +"Yes, What is it, Boyne" her gentle voice asked. + +"He came and sat down by her bed and stole his hand into hers, which she +put out to him. The watery moonlight dripped into the room at the edges +of the shades, and the long wash of the sea made itself regularly heard +on the sands. + +"Can't you sleep?" Ellen asked again. "Are you homesick?" + +"Not exactly that. But it does seem rather strange for us to be off here +so far, doesn't it?" + +"Yes, I don't see how I can forgive myself for making you come," said +Ellen, but her voice did not sound as if she were very unhappy. + +"You couldn't help it," said Boyne, and the words suggested a question to +him. "Do you believe that such things are ordered, Ellen?" + +"Everything is ordered, isn't it?" + +"I suppose so. And if they are, we're not, to blame for what happens." + +"Not if we try to do right." + +"Of course. The Kentons always do that," said Boyne, with the faith in +his family that did not fail him in the darkest hour. "But what I mean +is that if anything comes on you that you can't foresee and you can't get +out of--" The next step was not clear, and Boyne paused. He asked, + +"Do you think that we can control our feelings, Ellen?" + +"About what?" + +"Well, about persons that we like." He added, for safety, "Or dislike." + +"I'm afraid not," said Ellen, sadly, "We ought to like persons and +dislike them for some good reason, but we don't." + +"Yes, that's what I mean," said Borne, with a long breath. "Sometimes it +seems like a kind of possession, doesn't it?" + +"It seems more like that when we like them," Ellen said. + +"Yes, that's what I mean. If a person was to take a fancy to some one +that was above him, that was richer, or older, he wouldn't be to blame +for it, would he?" + +"Was that what you wanted to ask me about?" + +Borne hesitated. "Yes" he said. He was in for it now. + +Ellen had not noticed Boyne's absorption with Miss Rasmith on the ship, +but she vaguely remembered hearing Lottie tease him about her, and she +said now, "He wouldn't be to blame for it if he couldn't help it, but if +the person was much older it would be a pity!" + +"Uh, she isn't so very much older," said Borne, more cheerfully than he +had spoken before. + +"Is it somebody that you have taken a fancy to Borne?" + +"I don't know, Ellen. That's what makes it so kind of awful. I can't +tell whether it's a real fancy, or I only think it is. Sometimes I think +it is, and sometimes I think that I think so because I am afraid to +believe it. Do you under Ellen?" + +"It seems to me that I do. But you oughtn't to let your fancy run away +with you, Boyne. What a queer boy!" + +"It's a kind of fascination, I suppose. But whether it's a real fancy or +an unreal one, I can't get away from it." + +"Poor boy!" said his sister. + +"Perhaps it's those books. Sometimes I think it is, and I laugh at the +whole idea; and then again it's so strong that I can't get away from it. +Ellen!" + +"Well, Boyne?" + +I could tell you who it is, if you think that would do any good--if you +think it would help me to see it in the true light, or you could help me +more by knowing who it is than you can now." + +"I hope it isn't anybody that you can't respect, Boyne?" + +"No, indeed! It's somebody you would never dream of." + +"Well?" Ellen was waiting for him to speak, but he could not get the +words out, even to her. + +"I guess I'll tell you some other time. Maybe I can get over it myself." + +"It would be the best way if you could." + +He rose and left her bedside, and then he came back. "Ellen, I've got +something that I wish you would keep for me." + +"What is it? Of course I will." + +"Well, it's--something I don't want you to let Lottie know I've got. +She tells that Mr. Trannel everything, and then he wants to make fun. +Do you think he's so very witty?" + +"I can't help laughing at some things he says." + +"I suppose he is," Boyne ruefully admitted. "But that doesn't make you +like him any better. Well, if you won't tell Lottie, I'll give it to you +now." + +"I won't tell anything that you don't want me to, Boyne." + +"It's nothing. It's just-a picture of the Queen on porcelain, that I got +in The Hague. The guide took me into the store, and I thought I ought to +get something." + +"Oh, that's very nice, Boyne. I do like the Queen so much. She's so +sweet!" + +"Yes, isn't she?" said Boyne, glad of Ellen's approval. So far, at +least, he was not wrong. "Here it is now." + +He put the miniature in Ellen's hand. She lifted herself on her elbow. +"Light the candle and let me see it." + +"No, no!" he entreated. "It might wake Lottie, and--and--Good-night, +Ellen." + +"Can you go to sleep now, Boyne?" + +"Oh yes. I'm all right. Good-night." + +"Good-night, then." + +Borne stooped over and kissed her, and went to the door. He came back +and asked, "You don't think it was silly, or anything, for me to get it?" + +"No, indeed! It's just what you will like to have when you get home. +We've all seen her so often. I'll put it in my trunk, and nobody shall +know about it till we're safely back in Tuskingum." + +Boyne sighed deeply. "Yes, that's what I meant. Good-night." + +"Good-night, Boyne." + +"I hope I haven't waked you up too much?" + +"Oh no. I can get to sleep easily again." + +"Well, good-night." Boyne sighed again, but not so deeply, and this time +he went out. + + + + +XXII. + +Mrs. Kenton woke with the clear vision which is sometimes vouchsafed to +people whose eyes are holden at other hours of the day. She had heard +Boyne opening and shutting Ellen's door, and her heart smote her that he +should have gone to his sister with whatever trouble he was in rather +than come to his mother. It was natural that she should put the blame on +her husband, and "Now, Mr. Kenton," she began, with an austerity of voice +which he recognized before he was well awake, "if you won't take Boyne +off somewhere to-day, I will. I think we had better all go. We have +been here a whole fortnight, and we have got thoroughly rested, and there +is no excuse for our wasting our time any longer. If we are going to see +Holland, we had better begin doing it." + +The judge gave a general assent, and said that if she wanted to go to +Flushing he supposed he could find some garden-seeds there, in the flower +and vegetable nurseries, which would be adapted to the climate of +Tuskingum, and they could all put in the day pleasantly, looking round +the place. Whether it was the suggestion of Tuskingum in relation to +Flushing that decided her against the place, or whether she had really +meant to go to Leyden, she now expressed the wish, as vividly as if it +were novel, to explore the scene of the Pilgrims' sojourn before they +sailed for Plymouth, and she reproached him for not caring about the +place when they both used to take such an interest in it at home. + +"Well," said the judge, "if I were at home I should take an interest in +it here." + +This provoked her to a silence which he thought it best to break in tacit +compliance with her wish, and he asked, "Do you propose taking the whole +family and the appurtenances? We shall be rather a large party." + +"Ellen would wish to go, and I suppose Mr. Breckon. We couldn't very +well go without them." + +"And how about Lottie and that young Trannel?" + +"We can't leave him out, very well. I wish we could. I don't like him." + +"There's nothing easier than not asking him, if you don't want him." + +"Yes, there is, when you've got a girl like Lottie to deal with. Quite +likely she would ask him herself. We must take him because we can't +leave her." + +"Yes, I reckon," the judge acquiesced. + +"I'm glad," Mrs. Kenton said, after a moment, "that it isn't Ellen he's +after; it almost reconciles me to his being with Lottie so much. I only +wonder he doesn't take to Ellen, he's so much like that--" + +She did not say out what was in her mind, but her husband knew. "Yes, +I've noticed it. This young Breckon was quite enough so, for my taste. +I don't know what it is that just saves him from it." + +"He's good. You could tell that from the beginning." + +They went off upon the situation that, superficially or subliminally, +was always interesting them beyond anything in the world, and they did +not openly recur to Mrs. Kenton's plan for the day till they met their +children at breakfast. It was a meal at which Breckon and Trammel were +both apt to join them, where they took it at two of the tables on the +broad, seaward piazza of the hotel when the weather was fine. Both the +young men now applauded her plan, in their different sorts. It was +easily arranged that they should go by train and not by tram from The +Hague. The train was chosen, and Mrs. Kenton, when she went to her room +to begin the preparations for a day's pleasure which constitute so +distinctly a part of its pain, imagined that everything was settled. She +had scarcely closed the door behind her when Lottie opened it and shut it +again behind her. + +"Mother," she said, in the new style of address to which she was +habituating Mrs. Kenton, after having so long called her momma, "I am not +going with you." + +"Indeed you are, then!" her mother retorted. "Do you think I would +leave you here all day with that fellow? A nice talk we should make!" + +"You are perfectly welcome to that fellow, mother, and as he's accepted +he will have to go with you, and there won't be any talk. But, as I +remarked before, I am not going." + +"Why aren't you going, I should like to know?" + +"Because I don't like the company." + +"What do you mean? Have you got anything against Mr. Breckon?" + +"He's insipid, but as long as Ellen don't mind it I don't care. I object +to Mr. Trannel!" + +"Why?" + +"I don't see why I should have to tell you. If I said I liked him you +might want to know, but it seems to me that my not liking him is--my not +liking him is my own affair." There was a kind of logic in this that +silenced Mrs. Kenton for the moment. In view of her advantage +Lottie relented so far as to add, "I've found out something about him." + +Mrs. Kenton was imperative in her alarm. "What is it?" she demanded. + +Lottie answered, obliquely: "Well, I didn't leave The Hague to get rid of +them, and then take up with one of them at Scheveningen." + +"One of what?" + +"COOK'S TOURISTS, if you must know, mother. Mr. Trannel, as you call +him, is a Cook's tourist, and that's the end of it. I have got no use +for him from this out." + +Mrs. Kenton was daunted, and not for the first time, by her daughter's +superior knowledge of life. She could put Boyne down sometimes, though +not always, when be attempted to impose a novel code of manners or morals +upon her, but she could not cope with Lottie. In the present case she +could only ask, "Well?" + +"Well, they're the cheapest of the cheap. He actually showed me his +coupons, and tried to put me down with the idea that everybody used them. +But I guess he found it wouldn't work. He said if you were not +personally conducted it was all right." + +"Now, Lottie, you have got to tell me just what you mean," said Mrs. +Kenton, and from having stood during this parley, she sat down to hear +Lottie out at her leisure. But if there was anything more difficult than +for Lottie to be explicit it was to make her be so, and in the end Mrs. +Kenton was scarcely wiser than she was at the beginning to her daughter's +reasons. It appeared that if you wanted to be cheap you could travel +with those coupons, and Lottie did not wish to be cheap, or have anything +to do with those who were. The Kentons had always held up their heads, +and if Ellen had chosen to disgrace them with Bittridge, Dick had made it +all right, and she at least was not going to do anything that she would +be ashamed of. She was going to stay at home, and have her meals in her +room till they got back. + +Her mother paid no heed to her repeated declaration. "Lottie," she +asked, with the heart-quake that the thought of Richard's act always gave +her with reference to Ellen, "have you ever let out the least hint of +that?" + +"Of course I haven't," Lottie scornfully retorted. "I hope I know what a +crank Ellen is." + +They were not just the terms in which Mrs. Kenton would have chosen to be +reassured, but she was glad to be assured in any terms. She said, +vaguely: "I believe in my heart that I will stay at home, too. All this +has given me a bad headache." + +"I was going to have a headache myself," said Lottie, with injury. +"But I suppose I can get on along without. I can just simply say I'm not +going. If he proposes to stay, too, I can soon settle that." + +"The great difficulty will be to get your father to go." + +"You can make Ellen make him," Lottie suggested. + +"That is true," said Mrs. Kenton, with such increasing absence that her +daughter required of her: + +"Are you staying on my account?" + +"I think you had better not be left alone the whole day. But I am not +staying on your account. I don't believe we had so many of us better go. +It might look a little pointed." + +Lottie laughed harshly. "I guess Mr. Breckon wouldn't see the point, +he's so perfectly gone." + +"Do you really believe it, Lottie?" Mrs. Kenton entreated, with a sudden +tenderness for her younger daughter such as she did not always feel. + +"I should think anybody would believe it--anybody but Ellen." + +"Yes," Mrs. Kenton dreamily assented. + +Lottie made her way to the door. "Well, if you do stay, mother, I'm not +going to have you hanging round me all day. I can chaperon myself." + +"Lottie," her mother tried to stay her, "I wish you would go. I don't +believe that Mr. Trannel will be much of an addition. He will be on your +poor father's hands all day, or else Ellen's, and if you went you could +help off." + +"Thank you, mother. I've had quite all I want of Mr. Trannel. You can +tell him he needn't go, if you want to." + +Lottie at least did not leave her mother to make her excuses to the party +when they met for starting. Mrs. Kenton had deferred her own till she +thought it was too late for her husband to retreat, and then bunglingly +made them, with so much iteration that it seemed to her it would have +been far less pointed, as concerned Mr. Breckon, if she had gone. Lottie +sunnily announced that she was going to stay with her mother, and did not +even try to account for her defection to Mr. Trannel. + +"What's the matter with my staying, too?" he asked. "It seems to me +there are four wheels to this coach now." + +He had addressed his misgiving more to Lottie than the rest; but with the +same sunny indifference to the consequence for others that she had put on +in stating her decision, she now discharged herself from further +responsibility by turning on her heel and leaving it with the party +generally. In the circumstances Mr. Trannel had no choice but to go, +and he was supported, possibly, by the hope of taking it out of Lottie +some other time. + +It was more difficult for Mrs. Kenton to get rid of the judge, but an +inscrutable frown goes far in such exigencies. It seems to explain, and +it certainly warns, and the husband on whom it is bent never knows, even +after the longest experience, whether he had better inquire further. +Usually he decides that he had better not, and Judge Kenton went off +towards the tram with Boyne in the cloud of mystery which involved them +both as to Mrs. Kenton's meaning. + + + + +XXIII. + + +Trannel attached himself as well as he could to Breckon and Ellen, and +Breckon had an opportunity not fully offered him before to note a +likeness between himself and a fellow-man whom he was aware of not +liking, though he tried to love him, as he felt it right to love all men. +He thought he had not been quite sympathetic enough with Mrs. Kenton in +her having to stay behind, and he tried to make it up to Mr. Trannel in +his having to come. He invented civilities to show him, and ceded his +place next Ellen as if Trannel had a right to it. Trannel ignored him in +keeping it, unless it was recognizing Breckon to say, "Oh, I hope I'm not +in your way, old fellow?" and then making jokes to Ellen. Breckon could +not say the jokes were bad, though the taste of them seemed to him so. +The man had a fleering wit, which scorched whatever he turned it upon, +and yet it was wit. "Why don't you try him in American?" he asked at +the failure of Breckon and the tram conductor to understand each other in +Dutch. He tried the conductor himself in American, and he was so +deplorably funny that it was hard for Breckon to help being 'particeps +criminus', at least in a laugh. + +He asked himself if that were really the kind of man he was, and he grew +silent and melancholy in the fear that it was a good deal the sort of +man. To this morbid fancy Trannel seemed himself in a sort of excess, +or what he would be if he were logically ultimated. He remembered all +the triviality of his behavior with Ellen at first, and rather sickened +at the thought of some of his early pleasantries. She was talking gayly +now with Trannel, and Breckon wondered whether she was falling under the +charm that he felt in him, in spite of himself. + +If she was, her father was not. The judge sat on the other side of the +car, and unmistakably glowered at the fellow's attempts to make himself +amusing to Ellen. Trannel himself was not insensible to the judge's +mood. Now and then he said something to intensify it. He patronized the +judge and he made fun of the tourist character in which Boyne had got +himself up, with a field-glass slung by a strap under one arm and a red +Baedeker in his hand. He sputtered with malign laughter at a rather +gorgeous necktie which Boyne had put on for the day, and said it was not +a very good match for the Baedeker. + +Boyne retorted rudely, and that amused Trannel still more. He became +personal to Breckon, and noted the unclerical cut of his clothes. He +said he ought to have put on his uniform for an expedition like that, in +case they got into any sort of trouble. To Ellen alone he was +inoffensive, unless he overdid his polite attentions to her in carrying +her parasol for her, and helping her out of the tram, when they arrived, +shouldering every one else away, and making haste to separate her from +the others and then to walk on with her a little in advance. + +Suddenly he dropped her, and fell back to Boyne and his father, while +Breckon hastened forward to her side. Trannel put his arm across Boyne's +shoulders and asked him if he were mad, and then laughed at him. "You're +all right, Boyne, but you oughtn't to be so approachable. You ought to +put on more dignity, and repel familiarity!" + +Boyne could only twitch away in silence that he made as haughty as he +could, but not so haughty that Trannel did not find it laughable, and he +laughed in a teasing way that made Breckon more and more serious. He was +aware of becoming even solemn with the question of his likeness to +Trannel. He was of Trannel's quality, and their difference was a matter +of quantity, and there was not enough difference. In his sense of their +likeness Breckon vowed himself to a gravity of behavior evermore which he +should not probably be able to observe, but the sample he now displayed +did not escape the keen vigilance of Trannel. + +"With the exception of Miss Kenton," he addressed himself to the party, +"you're all so easy and careless that if you don't look out you'll lose +me. Miss Kenton, I wish you would keep an eye on me. I don't want to +get lost." + +Ellen laughed--she could not help it--and her laughing made it less +possible than before for Breckon to unbend and meet Trannel on his own +ground, to give him joke for joke, to exchange banter with him. He might +never have been willing to do that, but now he shrank from it, in his +realization of their likeness, with an abhorrence that rendered him +rigid. + +The judge was walking ahead with Boyne, and his back expressed such +severe disapproval that, between her fear that Trannel would say +something to bring her father's condemnation on him and her sense of +their inhospitable attitude towards one who was their guest, in a sort, +she said, with her gentle gayety, "Then you must keep near me, Mr. +Trannel. I'll see that nothing happens." + +"That's very sweet of you," said Trannel, soberly. Whether he had now +vented his malicious humor and was ready to make himself agreeable, or +was somewhat quelled by the unfriendly ambient he had created, or was +wrought upon by her friendliness, he became everything that could be +wished in a companion for a day's pleasure. He took the lead at the +station, and got them a compartment in the car to themselves for the +little run to Leyden, and on the way he talked very well. He politely +borrowed Boyne's Baedeker, and decided for the party what they had best +see, and showed an acceptable intelligence, as well as a large experience +in the claims of Leyden upon the visitor's interest. He had been there +often before, it seemed, and in the event it appeared that he had chosen +the days sightseeing wisely. + +He no longer addressed himself respectfully to Ellen alone, but he re- +established himself in Boyne's confidence with especial pains, and he +conciliated Breckon by a recognition of his priority with Ellen with a +delicacy refined enough for even the susceptibility of a lover alarmed +for his rights. If he could not overcome the reluctance of the judge, +he brought him to the civil response which any one who tried for Kenton's +liking achieved, even if he did not merit it, and there remained no more +reserve in Kenton's manner than there had been with the young man from +the first. He had never been a persona grata to the judge, and if he did +not become so now, he at least ceased to be actively displeasing. + +That was the year before the young Queen came to her own, and in the last +days of her minority she was visiting all the cities of her future +dominion with the queen-mother. When Kenton's party left the station +they found Leyden as gay for her reception as flags and banners could +make the gray old town, and Trannel relapsed for a moment so far as to +suggest that the decorations were in honor of Boyne's presence, but he +did not abuse the laugh that this made to Boyne's further shame. + +There was no carriage at the station which would hold the party of five, +and they had to take two vehicles. Trannel said it was lucky they wanted +two, since there were no more, and he put himself in authority to assort +the party. The judge, he decided, must go with Ellen and Breckon, and he +hoped Boyne would let him go in his carriage, if he would sit on the box +with the driver. The judge afterwards owned that he had weakly indulged +his dislike of the fellow, in letting him take Boyne, and not insisting +on going himself with Tramiel, but this was when it was long too late. +Ellen had her misgivings, but, except for that gibe about the +decorations, Trannel had been behaving so well that she hoped she might +trust Boyne with him. She made a kind of appeal for her brother, bidding +him and Trannel take good care of each other, and Trannel promised so +earnestly to look after Boyne that she ought to have been alarmed for +him. He took the lead, rising at times to wave a reassuring hand to her +over the back of his carriage, and, in fact, nothing evil could very well +happen from him, with the others following so close upon him. They met +from time to time in the churches they visited, and when they lost sight +of one another, through a difference of opinion in the drivers as to the +best route, they came together at the place Trannel had appointed for +their next reunion. + +He showed himself a guide so admirably qualified that he found a way for +them to objects of interest that had at first denied themselves in +anticipation of the visit from the queens; when they all sat down at +lunch in the restaurant which he found for them, he could justifiably +boast that he would get them into the Town Hall, which they had been told +was barred for the day against anything but sovereign curiosity. He was +now on the best term with Boyne, who seemed to have lost all diffidence +of him, and treated him with an easy familiarity that showed itself in +his slapping him on the shoulder and making dints in his hat. Trannel +seemed to enjoy these caresses, and, when they parted again for the +afternoon's sight-seeing, Ellen had no longer a qualm in letting Boyne +drive off with him. + +He had, in fact, known how to make himself very acceptable to Boyne. He +knew all the originals of his heroical romances, and was able to give the +real names and the geographical position of those princesses who had been +in love with American adventurers. Under promise of secrecy he disclosed +the real names of the adventurers themselves, now obscured in the titles +given them to render them worthy their union with sovereigns. He resumed +his fascinating confidences when they drove off after luncheon, and he +resumed them after each separation from the rest of the party. Boyne +listened with a flushed face and starting eyes, and when at last Trannel +offered, upon a pledge of the most sacred nature from him never to reveal +a word of what he said, he began to relate an adventure of which he was +himself the hero. It was a bold travesty of one of the latest romances +that Boyne had read, involving the experience of an American very little +older than Boyne himself, to whom a wilful young crown-princess, in a +little state which Trannel would not name even to Boyne, had made +advances such as he could not refuse to meet without cruelty. He was +himself deeply in love with her, but he felt bound in honor not to +encourage her infatuation as long as he could help, for he had been +received by her whole family with such kindness and confidence that he +had to consider them. + +"Oh, pshaw!" Boyne broke in upon him, doubting, and yet wishing not to +doubt, "that's the same as the story of 'Hector Folleyne'." + +"Yes," said Trannel, quietly. "I thought you would recognize it." + +"Well, but," Boyne went on, "Hector married the princess!" + +"In the book, yes. The fellow I gave the story to said it would never do +not to have him marry her, and it would help to disguise the fact. +That's what he said, after he had given the whole thing away." + +"And do you mean to say it was you? Oh, you can't stuff me! How did you +get out of marrying her, I should like to know, when the chancellor came +to you and said that the whole family wanted you to, for fear it would +kill her if--" + +"Well, there was a scene, I can't deny that. We had a regular family +conclave--father, mother, Aunt Hitty, and all the folks--and we kept it +up pretty much all night. The princess wasn't there, of course, and I +could convince them that I was right. If she had been, I don't believe I +could have held out. But they had to listen to reason, and I got away +between two days." + +"But why didn't you marry her?" + +"Well, for one thing, as I told you, I thought I ought to consider her +family. Then there was a good fellow, the crown-prince of Saxe- +Wolfenhutten, who was dead in love with her, and was engaged to her +before I turned up. I had been at school with him, and I felt awfully +sorry for him; and I thought I ought to sacrifice myself a little to him. +But I suppose the thing that influenced me most was finding out that if I +married the princess I should have to give up my American citizenship and +become her subject." + +"Well?" Boyne panted. + +"Well, would you have done it?" + +"Couldn't you have got along without doing that?" + +"That was the only thing I couldn't get around, somehow. So I left." + +"And the princess, did she--die?" + +"It takes a good deal more than that to kill a fifteen-year-old +princess," said Trannel, and he gave a harsh laugh. "She married Saxe- +Wolfenhutten." Boyne was silent. "Now, I don't want you to speak of +this till after I leave Scheveningen--especially to Miss Lottie. You +know how girls are, and I think Miss Lottie is waiting to get a bind on +me, anyway. If she heard how I was cut out of my chance with that +princess she'd never let me believe I gave her up of my own free will?" + +"NO, no; I won't tell her." + +Boyne remained in a silent rapture, and he did not notice they were no +longer following the rest of their party in the other carriage. This had +turned down a corner, at which Mr. Breckon, sitting on the front seat, +had risen and beckoned their driver to follow, but their driver, who +appeared afterwards to have not too much a head of his own, or no head at +all, had continued straight on, in the rear of a tram-car, which was +slowly finding its way through the momently thickening crowd. Boyne was +first aware that it was a humorous crowd when, at a turn of the street, +their equipage was greeted with ironical cheers by a group of gay young +Dutchmen on the sidewalk. Then he saw that the sidewalks were packed +with people, who spread into the street almost to the tram, and that the +house fronts were dotted with smiling Dutch faces, the faces of pretty +Dutch girls, who seemed to share the amusement of the young fellows +below. + +Trannel lay back in the carriage. "This is something like," he said. +"Boyne, they're on to the distinguished young Ohioan--the only Ohioan out +of office in Europe." + +"Yes," said Boyne, trying to enjoy it. "I wonder what they are holloing +at." + +Trannel laughed. "They're holloing at your Baedeker, my dear boy. They +never saw one before," and Boyne was aware that he was holding his red- +backed guide conspicuously in view on his lap. "They know you're a +foreigner by it." + +"Don't you think we ought to turn down somewhere? I don't see poppa +anywhere." He rose and looked anxiously back over the top of their +carriage. The crowd, closing in behind it, hailed his troubled face with +cries that were taken up by the throng on the sidewalks. Boyne turned +about to find that the tram-car which they had been following had +disappeared round a corner, but their driver was still keeping on. At a +wilder burst of applause Trannel took off his hat and bowed to the crowd, +right and left. + +"Bow, bow!" he said to Boyne. "They'll be calling for a speech the next +thing. Bow, I tell you!" + +"Tell him to turn round!" cried the boy. + +"I can't speak Dutch," said Trannel, and Boyne leaned forward and poked +the driver in the back. + +"Go back!" he commanded. + +The driver shook his head and pointed forward with his whip. "He's all +right," said Trannel. "He can't turn now. We've got to take the next +corner." The street in front was empty, and the people were crowding +back on the sidewalks. Loud, vague noises made themselves heard round +the corner to which the driver had pointed. "By Jove!" Trannel said, +"I believe they're coming round that way." + +"Who are coming?" Boyne palpitated. + +"The queens." + +"The queens?" Boyne gasped; it seemed to him that he shrieked the words. + +"Yes. And there's a tobacconist's now," said Trannel, as if that were +what he had been looking for all along. "I want some cigarettes." + +He leaped lightly from the carriage, and pushed his way out of sight on +the sidewalk. Boyne remained alone in the vehicle, staring wildly round; +the driver kept slowly and stupidly on, Boyne did not know how much +farther. He could not speak; he felt as if he could not stir. But the +moment came when he could not be still. He gave a galvanic jump to the +ground, and the friendly crowd on the sidewalk welcomed him to its ranks +and closed about him. The driver had taken the lefthand corner, just +before a plain carriage with the Queen and the queen-mother came in sight +round the right. The young Queen was bowing to the people, gently, and +with a sort of mechanical regularity. Now and then a brighter smile than +that she conventionally wore lighted up her face. The simple progress +was absolutely without state, except for the aide-de-camp on horseback +who rode beside the carriage, a little to the front. + +Boyne stood motionless on the curb, where a friendly tall Dutchman had +placed him in front that he might see the Queen. + +"Hello!" said the voice of Trannel, and elbowing his way to Boyne's +side, he laughed and coughed through the smoke of his cigarette. "I was +afraid you had lost me. Where's your carriage?" + +Boyne did not notice his mockeries. He was entranced in that beatific +vision; his boy-heart went out in worship to the pretty young creature +with a reverence that could not be uttered. The tears came into his +eyes. + +"There, there! She's bowing to you, Boyne. she's smiling right at you. +By Jove! She's beckoning to you!" + +"You be still!" Boyne retorted, finding his tongue. "She isn't doing +any such a thing." + +"She is, I swear she is! She's doing it again! She's stopping the +carriage. Oh, go out and see what she wants! Don't you know that a +queen's wish is a command? You've got to go!" + +Boyne never could tell just how it happened. The carriage did seem to be +stopping, and the Queen seemed to be looking at him. He thought he must, +and he started into the street towards her, and the carriage came abreast +of him. He had almost reached the carriage when the aide turned and +spurred his horse before him. Four strong hands that were like iron +clamps were laid one on each of Boyne's elbows and shoulders, and he was +haled away, as if by superhuman force. "Mr. Trannel!" he called out. +in his agony, but the wretch had disappeared, and Boyne was left with his +captors, to whom he could have said nothing if he could have thought of +anything to say. + +The detectives pulled him through the crowd and hurried him swiftly down +the side street. A little curiosity straggled after him in the shape of +small Dutch boys, too short to look over the shoulders of men at the +queens, and too weak to make their way through them to the front; but for +them, Boyne seemed alone in the world with the relentless officers, who +were dragging him forward and hurting him so with the grip of their iron +hands. He lifted up his face to entreat them not to hold him so tight, +and suddenly it was as if he beheld an angel standing in his path. It +was Breckon who was there, staring at him aghast. + +"Why, Boyne!" he cried. + +"Oh, Mr. Breckon!" Boyne wailed back. "Is it you? Oh, do tell them I +didn't mean to do anything! I thought she beckoned to me." + +"Who? Who beckoned to you?" + +"The Queen!" Boyne sobbed, while the detectives pulled him relentlessly +on. + +Breckon addressed them suavely in their owe tongue which had never come +in more deferential politeness from human lips. He ventured the belief +that there was a mistake; he assured them that he knew their prisoner, +and that he was the son of a most respectable American family, whom they +could find at the Kurhaus in Scheveningen. He added some irrelevancies, +and got for all answer that they had made Boyne's arrest for sufficient +reasons, and were taking him to prison. If his friends wished to +intervene in his behalf they could do so before the magistrate, but for +the present they must admonish Mr. Breckon not to put himself in the way +of the law. + +"Don't go, Mr. Breckon!" Boyne implored him, as his captors made him +quicken his pace after slowing a little for their colloquy with Breckon. +"Oh, where is poppa? He could get me away. Oh, where is poppa?" + +"Don't! Don't call out, Boyne," Breckon entreated. "Your father is +right here at the end of the street. He's in the carriage there with +Miss Kenton. I was coming to look for you. Don't cry out so!" + +"No, no, I won't, Mr. Breckon. I'll be perfectly quiet now. Only do get +poppa quick! He can tell them in a minute that it's all right!" + +He made a prodigious effort to control himself, while Breckon ran a +little ahead, with some wild notion of preparing Ellen. As he +disappeared at the corner, Boyne choked a sob into a muffed bellow, and +was able to meet the astonished eyes of his father and sister in this +degree of triumph. + +They had not in the least understood Breckon's explanation, and, in fact, +it had not been very lucid. At sight of her brother strenuously upheld +between the detectives, and dragged along the sidewalk, Ellen sprang from +the carriage and ran towards him. "Why, what's the matter with Boyne?" +she demanded. "Are you hurt, Boyne, dear? Are they taking him to the +hospital?" + +Before he could answer, and quite before the judge could reach the +tragical group, she had flung her arms round Boyne's neck, and was +kissing his tear-drabbled face, while he lamented back, "They're taking +me to prison." + +"Taking you to prison? I should like to know what for! What are you +taking my brother to prison for?" she challenged the detectives, who +paused, bewildered, while all the little Dutch boys round admired this +obstruction of the law, and several Dutch housewives, too old to go out +to see the queens, looked down from their windows. It was wholly +illegal, but the detectives were human. They could snub such a friend of +their prisoner as Breckon, but they could not meet the dovelike ferocity +of Ellen with unkindness. They explained as well as they might, and at a +suggestion which Kenton made through Breckon, they admitted that it was +not beside their duty to take Boyne directly to a magistrate, who could +pass upon his case, and even release him upon proper evidence of his +harmlessness, and sufficient security for any demand that justice might +make for his future appearance. + +"Then," said the judge, quietly, "tell them that we will go with them. +It will be all right, Boyne. Ellen, you and I will get back into the +carriage, and--" + +"No!" Boyne roared. "Don't leave me, Nelly!" + +"Indeed, I won't leave you, Boyne! Mr. Breckon, you get into the +carriage with poppa, and I--" + +"I think I had better go with you, Miss Kenton," said Breckon, and in a +tender superfluity they both accompanied Boyne on foot, while the judge +remounted to his place in the carriage and kept abreast of them on their +way to the magistrate's. + + + + +XXIV. + +The magistrate conceived of Boyne's case with a readiness that gave the +judge a high opinion of his personal and national intelligence. He even +smiled a little, in accepting the explanation which Breckon was able to +make him from Boyne, but he thought his duty to give the boy a fatherly +warning for the future. He remarked to Breckon that it was well for +Boyne that the affair had not happened in Germany, where it would have +been found a much more serious matter, though, indeed, he added, it had +to be seriously regarded anywhere in these times, when the lives of +sovereigns were so much at the mercy of all sorts of madmen and +miscreants. He relaxed a little from his severity in his admonition to +say directly to Boyne that queens, even when they wished to speak with +people, did not beckon them in the public streets. When this speech +translated to Boyne by Breckon, whom the magistrate complimented on the +perfection of his Dutch, Boyne hung his head sheepishly, and could not be +restored to his characteristic dignity again in the magistrate's +presence. The judge gratefully shook hands with the friendly justice, +and made him a little speech of thanks, which Breckon interpreted, and +then the justice shook hand with the judge, and gracefully accepted the +introduction which he offered him to Ellen. They parted with reciprocal +praises and obeisances, which included even the detectives. The judge +had some question, which he submitted to Breckon, whether he ought not to +offer them something, but Breckon thought not. + +Breckon found it hard to abdicate the sort of authority in which his +knowledge of Dutch had placed him, and when he protested that he had done +nothing but act as interpreter, Ellen said, "Yes, but we couldn't have +done anything without you," and this was the view that Mrs. Kenton took +of the matter in the family conclave which took place later in the +evening. Breckon was not allowed to withdraw from it, in spite of many +modest efforts, before she had bashfully expressed her sense of his +service to him, and made Boyne share her thanksgiving. She had her arm +about the boy's shoulder in giving Breckon her hand, and when Breckon had +got away she pulled Boyne to her in a more peremptory embrace. + +"Now, Boyne," she said, "I am not going to have any more nonsense. I +want to know why you did it." + +The judge and Ellen had already conjectured clearly enough, and Boyne did +not fear them. But he looked at his younger sister as he sulkily +answered, "I am not going to tell you before Lottie." + +"Come in here, then," said his mother, and she led him into the next room +and closed the door. She quickly returned without him. "Yes," she +began, "it's just as I supposed; it was that worthless fellow who put him +up to it. Of course, it began with those fool books he's been reading, +and the notions that Miss Rasmith put into his head. But he never would +have done anything if it hadn't been for Mr. Trannel." + +Lottie had listened in silent scorn to the whole proceedings up to this +point, and had refused a part in the general recognition of Breckon as a +special providence. Now she flashed out with a terrible volubility: +"What did I tell you? What else could you expect of a Cook's tourist? +And mom--mother wanted to make me go with you, after I told her what he +was! Well, if I had have gone, I'll bet I could have kept him from +playing his tricks. I'll bet he wouldn't have taken any liberties, with +me along. I'll bet if he had, it wouldn't have been Boyne that got +arrested. I'll bet he wouldn't have got off so easily with the +magistrate, either! But I suppose you'll all let him come bowing and +smiling round in the morning, like butter wouldn't melt in your mouths. +That seems to be the Kenton way. Anybody can pull our noses, or get us +arrested that wants to, and we never squeak." She went on a long time to +this purpose, Mrs. Kenton listening with an air almost of conviction, and +Ellen patiently bearing it as a right that Lottie had in a matter where +she had been otherwise ignored. + +The judge broke out, not upon Lottie, but upon his wife. "Good heavens, +Sarah, can't you make the child hush?" + +Lottie answered for her mother, with a crash of nerves and a gush of +furious tears: "Oh, I've got to hush, I suppose. It's always the way +when I'm trying to keep up the dignity of the family. I suppose it will +be cabled to America, and by tomorrow it will be all over Tuskingum how +Boyne was made a fool of and got arrested. But I bet there's one person +in Tuskingum that won't have any remarks to make, and that's Bittridge. +Not, as long as Dick's there he won't." + +"Lottie!" cried her mother, and her father started towards her, while +Ellen still sat patiently quiet. + +"Oh, well!" Lottie submitted. "But if Dick was here I know this Trannel +wouldn't get off so smoothly. Dick would give him a worse cowhiding than +he did Bittridge." + +Half the last word was lost in the bang of the door which Lottie slammed +behind her, leaving her father and mother to a silence which Ellen did +not offer to break. The judge had no heart to speak, in his dismay, and +it was Mrs. Kenton who took the word. + +"Ellen," she began, with compassionate gentleness, "we tried to keep it +from you. We knew how you would feel. But now we have got to tell you. +Dick did cowhide him when he got back to Tuskingum. Lottie wrote out to +Dick about it, how Mr. Bittridge had behaved in New York. Your father +and I didn't approve of it, and Dick didn't afterwards; but, yes, he did +do it." + +"I knew it, momma," said Ellen, sadly. + +"You knew it! How?" + +"That other letter I got when we first came--it was from his mother." + +"Did she tell--" + +"Yes. It was terrible she seemed to feel so. And I was sorry for her. +I thought I ought to answer it, and I did. I told her I was sorry, too. +I tried not to blame Richard. I don't believe I did. And I tried not to +blame him. She was feeling badly enough without that." + +Her father and mother looked at each other; they did not speak, and she +asked, "Do you think I oughtn't to have written?" + +Her father answered, a little tremulously: "You did right, Ellen. And I +am sure that you did it in just the right way." + +"I tried to. I thought I wouldn't worry you about it." + +She rose, and now her mother thought she was going to say that it put an +end to everything; that she must go back and offer herself as a sacrifice +to the injured Bittridges. Her mind had reverted to that moment on the +steamer when Ellen told her that nothing had reconciled her to what had +happened with Bittridge but the fact that all the wrong done had been +done to themselves; that this freed her. In her despair she could not +forbear asking, "What did you write to her, Ellen?" + +"Nothing. I just said that I was very sorry, and that I knew how she +felt. I don't remember exactly." + +She went up and kissed her mother. She seemed rather fatigued than +distressed, and her father asked her. "Are you going to bed, my dear?" + +"Yes, I'm pretty tired, and I should think you would be, too, poppa. +I'll speak to poor Boyne. Don't mind Lottie. I suppose she couldn't +help saying it." She kissed her father, and slipped quietly into Boyne's +room, from which they could hear her passing on to her own before they +ventured to say anything to each other in the hopeful bewilderment to +which she had left them. + +"Well?" said the judge. + +"Well?" Mrs. Kenton returned, in a note of exasperation, as if she were +not going to let herself be forced to the initiative. + +"I thought you thought--" + +"I did think that. Now I don't know what to think. We have got to +wait." + +"I'm willing to wait for Ellen!" + +"She seems," said Mrs. Kenton, "to have more sense than both the other +children put together, and I was afraid--" + +"She might easily have more sense than Boyne, or Lottie, either." + +"Well, I don't know," Mrs. Kenton began. But she did not go on to resent +the disparagement which she had invited. "What I was afraid of was her +goodness. It was her goodness that got her into the trouble, to begin +with. If she hadn't been so good, that fellow could never have fooled +her as he did. She was too innocent." + +The judge could not forbear the humorous view. "Perhaps she's getting +wickeder, or not so innocent. At any rate, she doesn't seem to have been +take in by Trannel." + +"He didn't pay any attention to her. He was all taken up with Lottie." + +"Well, that was lucky. Sarah," said the judge, "do you think he is like +Bittridge?" + +"He's made me think of him all the time." + +"It's curious," the judge mused. "I have always noticed how our faults +repeat themselves, but I didn't suppose our fates would always take the +same shape, or something like it." Mrs. Kenton stared at him. "When +this other one first made up to us on the boat my heart went down. I +thought of Bittridge so." + +"Mr. Breckon?" + +"Yes, the same lightness; the same sort of trifling--Didn't you notice +it?" + +"No--yes, I noticed it. But I wasn't afraid for an instant. I saw that +he was good." + +"Oh!" + +"What I'm afraid of now is that Ellen doesn't care anything about him." + +"He isn't wicked enough?" + +"I don't say that. But it would be too much happiness to expect in one +short life." + +The judge could not deny the reasonableness of her position. He could +only oppose it. "Well, I don't think we've had any more than our share +of happiness lately." + +No one except Boyne could have made Trannel's behavior a cause of +quarrel, but the other Kentons made it a cause of coldness which was +quite as effective. In Lottie this took the form of something so active, +so positive, that it was something more than a mere absence of warmth. +Before she came clown to breakfast the next morning she studied a stare +in her mirror, and practised it upon Trannel so successfully when he came +up to speak to her that it must have made him doubt whether he had ever +had her acquaintance. In his doubt he ventured to address her, and then +Lottie turned her back upon him in a manner that was perfectly +convincing. He attempted a smiling ease with Mrs. Kenton and the judge, +but they shared neither his smile nor his ease, and his jocose questions +about the end of yesterday's adventures, which he had not been privy to, +did not seem to appeal to the American sense of humor in them. Ellen was +not with them, nor Boyne, but Trannel was not asked to take either of the +vacant places at the table, even when Breckon took one of them, after a +decent exchange of civilities with him. He could only saunter away and +leave Mrs. Kenton to a little pang. + +"Tchk!" she made. "I'm sorry for him!" + +"So am I," said the judge. "But he will get over it--only too soon, I'm +afraid. I don't believe he's very sorry for himself." + +They had not advised with Breckon, and he did not feel authorized to make +any comment. He seemed preoccupied, to Mrs. Kenton's eye, when she +turned it upon him from Trannel's discomfited back, lessening in the +perspective, and he answered vaguely to her overture about his night's +rest. Lottie never made any conversation with Breckon, and she now left +him to himself, with some remnants of the disapproval which she found on +her hands after crushing Trannel. It could not be said that Breckon was +aware of her disapproval, and the judge had no apparent consciousness of +it. He and Breckon tried to make something of each other, but failed, +and it all seemed a very defeating sequel to Mrs. Kenton after the +triumphal glow of the evening before. When Lottie rose, she went with +her, alleging her wish to see if Boyne had eaten his breakfast. She +confessed, to Breckon's kind inquiry, that Boyne did not seem very well, +and that she had made him take his breakfast in his room, and she did not +think it necessary to own, even to so friendly a witness as Mr. Breckon, +that Boyne was ashamed to come down, and dreaded meeting Trannel so much +that she was giving him time to recover his self-respect and courage. + +As soon as she and Lottie were gone Breckon began, rather more formidably +than he liked, but helplessly so: "Judge Kenton, I should be glad of a +few moments with you on--on an important--on a matter that is important +to me." + +"Well," said the judge, cautiously. Whatever was coming, he wished to +guard himself from the mistake that he had once so nearly fallen into, +and that still made him catch his breath to think of. "How can I be of +use to you?" + +"I don't know that you can be of any use--I don't know that I ought to +speak to you. But I thought you might perhaps save me from--save my +taking a false step." + +He looked at Kenton as if he would understand, and Kenton supposed that +he did. He said, "My daughter once mentioned your wish to talk with me." + +"Your daughter?" Breckon stared at him in stupefaction. + +"Yes; Ellen. She said you wished to consult me about going back to your +charge in New York, when we were on the ship together. But I don't know +that I'm very competent to give advice in such--" + +"Oh!" Breckon exclaimed, in a tone of immense relief, which did not +continue itself in what he went on to say. "That! I've quite made up my +mind to go back." He stopped, and then be burst out, "I want to speak +with you about her." The judge sat steady, still resolute not to give +himself away, and the young man scarcely recovered from what had been a +desperate plunge in adding: "I know that it's usual to speak with her-- +with the lady herself first, but--I don't know! The circumstances are +peculiar. You only know about me what you've seen of me, and I would +rather make my mistakes in the order that seems right to me, although it +isn't just the American way." + +He smiled rather piteously, and the judge said, rather encouragingly, +"I don't quite know whether I follow you." + +Breckon blushed, and sought help in what remained of his coffee. "The +way isn't easy for me. But it's this: I ask your leave to ask Miss Ellen +to marry me." The worst was over now, and looked as if it were a relief. +"She is the most beautiful person in the world to me, and the best; +but as you know so little of me, I thought it right to get your leave--to +tell you--to--to--That is all." He fell back in his chair and looked a +at Kenton. + +"It is unusual," the judge began. + +"Yes, Yes; I know that. And for that reason I speak first to you. I'll +be ruled by you implicitly." + +"I don't mean that," Kenton said. "I would have expected that you would +speak to her first. But I get your point of view, and I must say I think +you're right. I think you are behaving--honorably. I wish that every +one was like you. But I can't say anything now. I must talk with her +mother. My daughter's life has not been happy. I can't tell you. But +as far as I am concerned, and I think Mrs. Kenton, too, I would be glad +--We like you Mr. Breckon. We think you are a good man. + +"Oh, thank you. I'm not so sure--" + +"We'd risk it. But that isn't all. Will you excuse me if I don't say +anything more just yet--and if I leave you?" + +"Why, certainly." The judge had risen and pushed back his chair, and +Breckon did the same. "And I shall--hear from you?" + +"Why, certainly," said the judge in his turn. + +"It isn't possible that you put him off!" his wife reproached him, when +he told what had passed between him and Breckon. "Oh, you couldn't have +let him think that we didn't want him for her! Surely you didn't!" + +"Will you get it into your head," he flamed back, "that he hasn't spoken +to Ellen yet, and I couldn't accept him till she had?" + +"Oh yes. I forgot that." Mrs. Kenton struggled with the fact, in the +difficulty of realizing so strange an order of procedure. "I suppose +it's his being educated abroad that way. But, do go back to him, Rufus, +and tell him that of course--" + +"I will do nothing of the kind, Sarah! What are you thinking of?" + +"Oh, I don't know what I'm thinking of! I must see Ellen, I suppose. +I'll go to her now. Oh, dear, if she doesn't--if she lets such a chance +slip through her fingers--But she's quite likely to, she's so obstinate! +I wonder what she'll want us to do." + +She fled to her daughter's room and found Boyne there, sitting beside his +sister's bed, giving her a detailed account of his adventure of the day +before, up to the moment Mr. Breckon met him, in charge of the +detectives. Up to that moment, it appeared to Boyne, as nearly as he +could recollect, that he had not broken down, but had behaved himself +with a dignity which was now beginning to clothe his whole experience. +In the retrospect, a quiet heroism characterized his conduct, and at the +moment his mother entered the room he was questioning Ellen as to her +impressions of his bearing when she first saw him in the grasp of the +detectives. + +His mother took him by the arm, and said, "I want to speak with Ellen, +Boyne," and put him out of the door. + +Then she came back and sat down in his chair. "Ellen. Mr. Breckon has +been speaking to your father. Do you know what about?" + +"About his going back to New York?" the girl suggested. + +Her mother kept her patience with difficulty. "No, not about that. +About you! He's asked your father--I can't understand yet why he did it, +only he's so delicate and honorable, and goodness known we appreciate it- +-whether he can tell you that--that--" It was not possible for such a +mother as Mrs. Kenton to say "He loves you"; it would have sounded as she +would have said, too sickish, and she compromised on: "He likes you, and +wants to ask you whether you will marry him. And, Ellen," she continued, +in the ample silence which followed, "if you don't say you will, I will +have nothing more to do With such a simpleton. I have always felt that +you behaved very foolishly about Mr. Bittridge, but I hoped that when you +grew older you would see it as we did, and--and behave differently. And +now, if, after all we've been through with you, you are going to say that +you won't have Mr. Breckon--" + +Mrs. Kenton stopped for want of a figure that would convey all the +disaster that would fall upon Ellen in such an event, and she was given +further pause when the girl gently answered, "I'm not going to say that, +momma." + +"Then what in the world are you going to say?" Mrs. Kenton demanded. + +Ellen had turned her face away on the pillow, and now she answered, +quietly, "When Mr. Breckon asks me I will tell him." + +"Well, you had better!" her mother threatened in return, and she did not +realize the falsity of her position till she reported Ellen's words to +the judge. + +Well, Sarah, I think she had you there," he said, and Mrs. Kenton then +said that she did not care, if the child was only going to behave +sensibly at last, and she did believe she was. + +"Then it's all right" said the judge, and he took up the Tuskingum +Intelligencer, lying till then unread in the excitements which had +followed its arrival the day before, and began to read it. + +Mrs. Kenton sat dreamily watching him, with her hands fallen in her lap. +She suddenly started up, with the cry, "Good gracious! What are we all +thinking of?" + +Kenton stared at her over the top of his paper. "How, thinking of?" + +"Why Mr. Breckon! He must be crazy to know what we've decided, poor +fellow!" + +"Oh," said the judge, folding the Intelligencer on his knee. "I had +forgotten. Somehow, I thought it was all settled." + +Mrs, Kenton took his paper from him, and finished folding it. "It hasn't +begun to be settled. You must go and let him know." + +"Won't he look me up?" the judge suggested. + +"You must look him up. Go at once dear! Think how anxious he must be!" + +Kenton was not sure that Breckon looked very anxious when he found him on +the brick promenade before the Kurhaus, apparently absorbed in noting the +convulsions of a large, round German lady in the water, who must have +supposed herself to be bathing. But perhaps the young man did not see +her; the smile on his face was too vague for such an interest when he +turned at Kenton's approaching steps. + +The judge hesitated for an instant, in which the smile left Breckon's +face. "I believe that's all right, Mr. Breckon," he said. "You'll find +Mrs. Kenton in our parlor," and then the two men parted, with an "Oh, +thank you!" from Breckon, who walked back towards the hotel, and left +Kenton to ponder upon the German lady; as soon as he realized that she +was not a barrel, the judge continued his walk along the promenade, +feeling rather ashamed. + +Mrs. Kenton had gone to Ellen's room again when she had got the judge off +upon his mission. She rather flung in upon her. "Oh, you are up!" she +apologized to Ellen's back. The girl's face was towards the glass, and +she was tilting her head to get the effect of the hat on it, which she +now took off. + +"I suppose poppa's gone to tell him," she said, sitting tremulously down. + +"Didn't you want him to?" her mother asked, stricken a little at sight +of her agitation. + +"Yes, I wanted him to, but that doesn't make it any easier. It makes it +harder. Momma!" + +"Well, Ellen?" + +"You know you've got to tell him, first." + +"Tell him?" Mrs. Kenton repeated, but she knew what Ellen meant. + +"About--Mr. Bittridge. All about it. Every single thing. About his +kissing me that night." + +At the last demand Mrs. Kenton was visibly shaken in her invisible assent +to the girl's wish. "Don't you think, Ellen, that you had better tell +him that--some time?" + +"No, now. And you must tell him. You let me go to the theatre with +him." The faintest shadow of resentment clouded the girl's face, but +still Mrs. Kenton, thought she knew her own guilt, could not yield. + +"Why, Ellen," she pleaded, not without a reproachful sense of vulgarity +in such a plea, "don't you suppose HE ever--kissed any one?" + +"That doesn't concern me, momma," said Ellen, without a trace of +consciousness that she was saying anything uncommon. "If you won't tell +him, then that ends it. I won't see him." + +"Oh, well!" her mother sighed. "I will try to tell him. But I'd rather +be whipped. I know he'll laugh at me." + +"He won't laugh at you," said the girl, confidently, almost comfortingly. +"I want him to know everything before I meet him. I don't want to have a +single thing on my mind. I don't want to think of myself!" + +Mrs. Kenton understood the woman--soul that spoke in these words. +"Well," she said, with a deep, long breath, "be ready, then." + +But she felt the burden which had been put upon her to be so much more +than she could bear that when she found her husband in their parlor she +instantly resolved to cast it upon him. He stood at the window with his +hat on. + +"Has Breckon been here yet?" he asked. + +"Have you seen him yet?" she returned. + +"Yes, and I thought he was coming right here. But perhaps he stopped to +screw his courage up. He only knew how little it needed with us!" + +"Well, now, it's we who've got to have the courage. Or you have. Do you +know what Ellen wants to have done?" Mrs. Kenton put it in these +impersonal terms, and as a preliminary to shirking her share of the +burden. + +"She doesn't want to have him refused?" + +"She wants to have him told all about Bittridge." + +After a momentary revolt the judge said, "Well, that's right. It's like +Ellen." + +"There's something else that's more like her," said Mrs. Kenton, +indignantly. "She wants him to told about what Bittridge did that night +--about him kissing her." + +The judge looked disgusted with his wife for the word; then he looked +aghast. "About--" + +"Yes, and she won't have a word to say to him till he is told, and unless +he is told she will refuse him." + +"Did she say that?" + +"No, but I know she will." + +"If she didn't say she would, I think we may take the chances that she +won't." + +"No, we mustn't take any such chances. You must tell him." + +"I? No, I couldn't manage it. I have no tact, and it would sound so +confoundedly queer, coming from one man to another. It would be-- +indelicate. It's something that nobody but a woman--Why doesn't she +tell him herself?" + +"She won't. She considers it our part, and something we ought to do +before he commits himself." + +"Very well, then, Sarah, you must tell him. You can manage it so it +won't by so--queer. + +"That is just what I supposed you would say, Mr. Kenton, but I must say I +didn't expect it of you. I think it's cowardly." + +"Look out, Sarah! I don't like that word." + +"Oh, I suppose you're brave enough when it comes to any kind of danger. +But when it comes to taking the brunt of anything unpleasant--" + +"It isn't unpleasant--it's queer." + +"Why do you keep saying that over and over? There's nothing queer about +it. It's Ellenish but isn't it right?" + +"It's right, yes, I suppose. But it's squeamish." + +"I see nothing squeamish about it. But I know you're determined to leave +it to me, and so I shall do it. I don't believe Mr. Breckon will think +it's queer or squeamish." + +"I've no doubt he'll take it in the right way; you'll know how to--" +Kenton looked into his hat, which he had taken off and then put it on +again. His tone and his manner were sufficiently sneaking, and he could +not make them otherwise. It was for this reason, no doubt, that he would +not prolong the interview. + +"Oh yes, go!" said Mrs. Kenton, as he found himself with his hand on the +door. "Leave it all to me, do!" and he was aware of skulking out of the +room. By the time that it would have taken him so long as to walk to the +top of the grand stairway he was back again. "He's coming!" he said, +breathlessly. "I saw him at the bottom of the stairs. Go into your room +and wash your eyes. I'LL tell him." + +"No, no, Rufus! Let me! It will be much better. You'll be sure to +bungle it." + +"We must risk that. You were quite right, Sarah. It would have been +cowardly in me to let you do it." + +"Rufus! You know I didn't mean it! Surely you're not resenting that?" + +"No. I'm glad you made me see it. You're all right, Sarah, and you'll +find that it will all come out all right. You needn't be afraid I'll +bungle it. I shall use discretion. Go--" + +"I shall not stir a step from this parlor! You've got back all your +spirit, dear," said the old wife, with young pride in her husband. +"But I must say that Ellen is putting more upon you than she has any +right to. I think she might tell him herself." + +"No, it's our business--my business. We allowed her to get in for it. +She's quite right about it. We must not let him commit himself to her +till he knows the thing that most puts her to shame. It isn't enough for +us to say that it was really no shame. She feels that it casts a sort of +stain--you know what I mean, Sarah, and I believe I can make this young +man know. If I can't, so much the worse for him. He shall never see +Ellen again." + +"Oh, Rufus!" + +"Do you think he would be worthy of her if he couldn't?" + +"I think Ellen is perfectly ridiculous." + +"Then that shows that I am right in deciding not to leave this thing to +you. I feel as she does about it, and I intend that he shall." + +"Do you intend to let her run the chance of losing him?" + +"That is what I intend to do." + +"Well, then, I'll tell you what: I am going to stay right here. We will +both see him; it's right for us to do it." But at a rap on the parlor +door Mrs. Kenton flew to that of her own room, which she closed upon her +with a sort of Parthian whimper, "Oh, do be careful, Rufus!" + +Whether Kenton was careful or not could never be known, from either +Kenton himself or from Breckon. The judge did tell him everything, and +the young man received the most damning details of Ellen's history with a +radiant absence which testified that they fell upon a surface sense of +Kenton, and did not penetrate to the all-pervading sense of Ellen herself +below. At the end Kenton was afraid he had not understood. + +"You understand," he said, "that she could not consent to see you before +you knew just how weak she thought she had been." The judge stiffened to +defiance in making this humiliation. "I don't consider, myself, that she +was weak at all." + +"Of course not!" Breckon beamed back at him. + +"I consider that throughout she acted with the greatest--greatest--And +that in that affair, when he behaved with that--that outrageous +impudence, it was because she had misled the scoundrel by her kindness, +her forbearance, her wish not to do him the least shadow of injustice, +but to give him every chance of proving himself worthy of her tolerance; +and--" + +The judge choked, and Breckon eagerly asked, "And shall I--may I see her +now?" + +"Why--yes," the judge faltered. "If you're sure--" + +"What about?" Breckon demanded. + +"I don't know whether she will believe that I have told you." + +"I will try to convince her. Where shall I see her?" + +"I will go and tell her you are here. I will bring her--" + +Kenton passed into the adjoining room, where his wife laid hold of him, +almost violently. "You did it beautifully, Rufus," she huskily +whispered, "and I was so afraid you would spoil everything. Oh, how +manly you were, and how perfect he was! But now it's my turn, and I will +go and bring Ellen--You will let me, won't you?" + +"You may do anything you please, Sarah. I don't want to have any more of +this," said the judge from the chair he had dropped into. + +"Well, then, I will bring her at once," said Mrs. Kenton, staying only in +her gladness to kiss him on his gray head; he received her embrace with a +superficial sultriness which did not deceive her. + +Ellen came back without her mother, and as soon as she entered the room, +and Breckon realized that she had come alone, he ran towards her as if to +take her in his arms. But she put up her hand with extended fingers, and +held him lightly off. + +"Did poppa tell you?" she asked, with a certain defiance. She held her +head up fiercely, and spoke steadily, but he could see the pulse beating +in her pretty neck. + +"Yes, he told me--" + +"And--well?" + +"Oh, I love you, Ellen--" + +"That isn't it. Did you care?" + +Breckon had an inspiration, an inspiration from the truth that dwelt at +the bottom of his soul and had never yet failed to save him. He let his +arms fall and answered, desperately: "Yes, I did. I wished it hadn't +happened." He saw the pulse in her neck cease to beat, and he swiftly +added, "But I know that it happened just because you were yourself, and +were so--" + +"If you had said you didn't care," she breathlessly whispered, "I would +never have spoken to you. He felt a conditional tremor creeping into the +fingers which had been so rigid against his breast. "I don't see how I +lived through it! Do you think you can?" + +"I think so," he returned, with a faint, far suggestion of levity that +brought from her an imperative, imploring-- + +"Don't!" + +Then he added, solemnly, "It had no more to do with you, Ellen, than an +offence from some hateful animal--" + +"Oh, how good you are!" The fingers folded themselves, and her arms +weakened so that there was nothing to keep him from drawing her to him. +"What--what are you doing?" she asked, with her face smothered against +his. + +"Oh, Ell-en, Ellen, Ellen! Oh, my love, my dearest, my best!" + +"But I have been such a fool!" she protested, imagining that she was +going to push him from her, but losing herself in him more and more. + +"Yes, yes, darling! I know it. That's why I love you so!" + + + + +XXVI. + +"There is just one thing," said the judge, as he wound up his watch that +night, "that makes me a little uneasy still." + +Mrs. Kenton, already in her bed turned her face upon him with a +despairing "Tchk! Dear! What is it? I thought we had talked over +everything," + +"We haven't got Lottie's consent yet." + +"Well, I think I see myself asking Lottie!" Mrs. Kenton began, before +she realized her husband's irony. She added, "How could you give me such +a start?" + +"Well, Lottie has bossed us so long that I couldn't help mentioning it," +said the judge. + +It was a lame excuse, and in its most potential implication his +suggestion proved without reason. If Lottie never gave her explicit +approval to Ellen's engagement, she never openly opposed it. She treated +it, rather, with something like silent contempt, as a childish weakness +on Ellen's part which was beneath her serious consideration. Towards +Breckon, her behavior hardly changed in the severity which she had +assumed from the moment she first ceased to have any use for him. +"I suppose I will have to kiss him," she said, gloomily, when her mother +told her that he was to be her brother, and she performed the rite with +as much coldness as was ever put in that form of affectionate welcome. +It is doubtful if Breckon perfectly realized its coldness; he never knew +how much he enraged her by acting as if she were a little girl, and +saying lightly, almost trivially, "I'm so glad you're going to be a +sister to me." + +With Ellen, Lottie now considered herself quits, and from the first hour +of Ellen's happiness she threw off all the care with all the apparent +kindness which she had used towards her when she was a morbid invalid. +Here again, if Lottie had minded such a thing, she might have been as +much vexed by Ellen's attitude as by Breckon's. Ellen never once noticed +the withdrawal of her anxious oversight, or seemed in the least to miss +it. As much as her meek nature would allow, she arrogated to herself the +privileges and prerogatives of an elder sister, and if it had been +possible to make Lottie ever feel like a chit, there were moments when +Ellen's behavior would have made her feel like a chit. It was not till +after their return to Tuskingum that Lottie took her true place in +relation to the affair, and in the preparations for the wedding, which +she appointed to be in the First Universalist Church, overruling both her +mother's and sister's preferences for a home wedding, that Lottie rose in +due authority. Mrs. Kenton had not ceased to feel quelled whenever her +younger daughter called her mother instead of momma, and Ellen seemed not +really to care. She submitted the matter to Breckon, who said, "Oh yes, +if Lottie wishes," and he laughed when Ellen confessed, "Well, I said +we would." + +With the lifting of his great anxiety, he had got back to that lightness +which was most like him, and he could not always conceal from Lottie +herself that he regarded her as a joke. She did not mind it, she said, +from such a mere sop as, in the vast content of his love, he was. + +This was some months after Lottie had got at Scheveningen from Mr. +Plumpton that letter which decided her that she had no use for him. +There came the same day, and by the same post with it, a letter from one +of her young men in Tuskingum, who had faithfully written to her all the +winter before, and had not intermitted his letters after she went abroad. +To Kenton he had always seemed too wise if not too good for Lottie, but +Mrs. Kenton, who had her own doubts of Lottie, would not allow this when +it came to the question, and said, woundedly, that she did not see why +Lottie was not fully his equal in every way. + +"Well," the judge suggested, "she isn't the first young lawyer at the +Tuskingum bar." + +"Well, I wouldn't wish her to be," said Mrs. Kenton, who did not often +make jokes. + +"Well, I don't know that I would," her husband assented, and he added, +"Pretty good, Sarah." + +"Lottie," her mother summed up, "is practical, and she is very neat. She +won't let Mr. Elroy go around looking so slovenly. I hope she will make +him have his hair cut, and not look as if it were bitten off. And I +don't believe he's had his boots blacked since--" + +"He was born," the judge proposed, and she assented. + +"Yes. She is very saving, and he is wasteful. It will be a very good +match. You can let them build on the other corner of the lot, if Ellen +is going to be in New York. I would miss Lottie more than Ellen about +the housekeeping, though the dear knows I will miss them both badly +enough." + +"Well, you can break off their engagements," said the judge. + +As yet, and until Ellen was off her hands, Lottie would not allow Mr. +Elroy to consider himself engaged to her. His conditional devotion did +not debar him from a lover's rights, and, until Breckon came on from New +York to be married, there was much more courtship of Lottie than of Ellen +in the house. But Lottie saved herself in the form if not the fact, and +as far as verbal terms were concerned, she was justified by them in +declaring that she would not have another sop hanging round. + +It was Boyne, and Boyne alone, who had any misgivings in regard to +Ellen's engagement, and these were of a nature so recondite that when he +came to impart them to his mother, before they left Scheveningen, and +while there was yet time for that conclusion which his father suggested +to Mrs. Kenton too late, Boyne had an almost hopeless difficulty in +stating them. His approaches, even, were so mystical that his mother was +forced to bring him to book sharply. + +"Boyne, if you don't tell me right off just what you mean, I don't know +what I will do to you! What are you driving at, for pity's sake? Are +you saying that she oughtn't to be engaged to Mr. Breckon?" + +"No, I'm not saying that, momma," said Boyne, in a distress that caused +his mother to take a reef in her impatience. + +"Well, what are you saying, then?" + +"Why, you know how Ellen is, momma. You know how conscientious and--and +--sensitive. Or, I don't mean sensitive, exactly." + +"Well?" + +"Well, I don't think she ought to be engaged to Mr. Breckon out of-- +gratitude." + +"Gratitude?" + +"Yes. I just know that she thinks--or it would be just like her--that he +saved me that day. But he only met me about a second before we came to +her and poppa, and the officers were taking me right along towards them." +Mrs. Kenton held herself stormily in, and he continued: "I know that he +translated for us before the magistrate, but the magistrate could speak a +little English, and when he saw poppa he saw that it was all right, +anyway. I don't want to say anything against Mr. Breckon, and I think he +behaved as well any one could; but if Ellen is going to marry him out of +gratitude for saving me--" + +Mrs. Kenton could hold in no longer. "And is this what you've been +bothering the life half out of me for, for the last hour?" + +"Well, I thought you ought to look at it in that light, momma." + +"Well, Boyne," said his mother, "sometimes I think you're almost a fool!" +and she turned her back upon her son and left him. + +Boyne's place in the Kenton family, for which he continued to have the +highest regard, became a little less difficult, a little less +incompatible with his self-respect as time went on. His spirit, which +had lagged a little after his body in stature, began, as his father said, +to catch up. He no longer nourished it so exclusively upon heroical +romance as he had during the past year, and after his return to Tuskingum +he went into his brother Richard's once, and manifested a certain +curiosity in the study of the law. He read Blackstone, and could give a +fair account of his impressions of English law to his father. He had +quite outlived the period of entomological research, and he presented his +collections of insects (somewhat moth-eaten) to his nephew, on whom he +also bestowed his postage-stamp album; Mary Kenton accepted them in +trust, the nephew being of yet too tender years for their care. In the +preoccupations of his immediate family with Ellen's engagement, Boyne +became rather close friends with his sister-in-law, and there were times +when he was tempted to submit to her judgment the question whether the +young Queen of Holland did not really beckon to him that day. But +pending the hour when he foresaw that Lottie should come out with the +whole story, in some instant of excitement, Boyne had not quite the heart +to speak of his experience. It assumed more and more respectability with +him, and lost that squalor which had once put him to shame while it was +yet new. He thought that Mary might be reasoned into regarding him as +the hero of an adventure, but he is still hesitating whether to confide +in her. In the meantime she knows all about it. Mary and Richard both +approved of Ellen's choice, though they are somewhat puzzled to make out +just what Mr. Breckon's religion is, and what his relations to his charge +in New York may be. These do not seem to them quite pastoral, and he +himself shares their uncertainty. But since his flock does not include +Mrs. Rasmith and her daughter, he is content to let the question remain +in abeyance. The Rasmiths are settled in Rome with an apparent +permanency which they have not known elsewhere for a long time, and they +have both joined in the friendliest kind of letter on his marriage to +their former pastor, if that was what Breckon was. They have professed +to know from the first that he was in love with Ellen, and that he is in +love with her now is the strong present belief of his flock, if they are +a flock, and if they may be said to have anything so positive as a belief +in regard to anything. + +Judge Kenton has given the Elroys the other corner of the lot, and has +supplied them the means of building on it. Mary and Lottie run +diagonally into the home-house every day, and nothing keeps either from +coming into authority over the old people except the fear of each other +in which they stand. The Kentons no longer make any summer journeys, +but in the winter they take Boyne and go to see Ellen in New York. They +do not stay so long as Mrs. Kenton would like. As soon as they have +fairly seen the Breckons, and have settled comfortably down in their +pleasant house on West Seventy-fourth Street, she detects him in a secret +habit of sighing, which she recognizes as the worst symptom of +homesickness, and then she confides to Ellen that she supposes Mr. Kenton +will make her go home with him before long. Ellen knows it is useless to +interfere. She even encourages her father's longings, so far as +indulging his clandestine visits to the seedsman's, and she goes with him +to pick up second-hand books about Ohio in the War at the dealers', who +remember the judge very flatteringly. + +As February draws on towards March it becomes impossible to detain +Kenton. His wife and son return with him to Tuskingum, where Lottie has +seen to the kindling of a good fire in the furnace against their arrival, +and has nearly come to blows with Mary about provisioning them for the +first dinner. Then Mrs. Kenton owns, with a comfort which she will not +let her husband see, that there is no place like home, and they take up +their life in the place where they have been so happy and so unhappy. He +reads to her a good deal at night, and they play a game of checkers +usually before they go to bed; she still cheats without scruple, for, as +she justly says, he knows very well that she cannot bear to be beaten. + +The colonel, as he is still invariably known to his veterans, works +pretty faithfully at the regimental autobiography, and drives round the +country, picking up material among them, in a buggy plastered with mud. +He has imagined, since his last visit to Breckon, who dictates his +sermons, if they are sermons, taking a stenographer with him, and the +young lady, who is in deadly terror of the colonel's driving, is of the +greatest use to him, in the case of veterans who will not or cannot give +down (as they say in their dairy-country parlance), and has already +rescued many reminiscences from perishing in their faltering memories. +She writes them out in the judge's library when the colonel gets home, +and his wife sometimes surprises Mr. Kenton correcting them there at +night after she supposes he has gone to bed. + +Since it has all turned out for the best concerning Bittridge, she no +longer has those pangs of self-reproach for Richard's treatment of him +which she suffered while afraid that if the fact came to Ellen's +knowledge it might make her refuse Breckon. She does not find her +daughter's behavior in the matter so anomalous as it appears to the +judge. + +He is willing to account for it on the ground of that inconsistency which +he has observed in all human behavior, but Mrs. Kenton is not inclined to +admit that it is so very inconsistent. She contends that Ellen had +simply lived through that hateful episode of her psychological history, +as she was sure to do sooner or later and as she was destined to do as +soon as some other person arrived to take her fancy. + +If this is the crude, common-sense view of the matter, Ellen herself is +able to offer no finer explanation, which shall at the same time be more +thorough. She and her husband have not failed to talk the affair over, +with that fulness of treatment which young married people give their past +when they have nothing to conceal from each other. She has attempted to +solve the mystery by blaming herself for a certain essential levity of +nature which, under all her appearance of gravity, sympathized with +levity in others, and, for what she knows to the contrary, with something +ignoble and unworthy in them. Breckon, of course, does not admit this, +but he has suggested that she was first attracted to him by a certain +unseriousness which reminded her of Bittridge, in enabling him to take +her seriousness lightly. This is the logical inference which he makes +from her theory of herself, but she insists that it does not follow; and +she contends that she was moved to love him by an instant sense of his +goodness, which she never lost, and in which she was trying to equal +herself with him by even the desperate measure of renouncing her +happiness, if that should ever seem her duty, to his perfection. He says +this is not very clear, though it is awfully gratifying, and he does not +quite understand why Mrs. Bittridge's letter should have liberated Ellen +from her fancied obligations to the past. Ellen can only say that it did +so by making her so ashamed ever to have had anything to do with such +people, and making her see how much she had tried her father and mother +by her folly. This again Breckon contends is not clear, but he says we +live in a universe of problems in which another, more or less, does not +much matter. He is always expecting that some chance shall confront him +with Bittridge, and that the man's presence will explain everything; for, +like so many Ohio people who leave their native State, the Bittridges +have come East instead of going West, in quitting the neighborhood of +Tuskingum. He is settled with his idolized mother in New York, where he +is obscurely attached to one of the newspapers. That he has as yet +failed to rise from the ranks in the great army of assignment men may be +because moral quality tells everywhere, and to be a clever blackguard is +not so well as to be simply clever. If ever Breckon has met his alter +ego, as he amuses himself in calling him, he has not known it, though +Bittridge may have been wiser in the case of a man of Breckon's +publicity, not to call it distinction. There was a time, immediately +after the Breckons heard from Tuskingum that the Bittridges were in New +York, when Ellen's husband consulted her as to what might be his duty +towards her late suitor in the event which has not taken place, and when +he suggested, not too seriously, that Richard's course might be the +solution. To his suggestion Ellen answered: "Oh no, dear! That was +wrong," and this remains also Richard's opinion. + + + + +ETEXT EDITOR'S BOOKMARKS: + +A nature which all modesty and deference seemed left out of +All but took the adieus out of Richard's hands +Americans spoil their women! "Well, their women are worth it" +An inscrutable frown goes far in such exigencies +Another problem, more or less, does not much matter +Certain comfort in their mutual discouragement +Conscience to own the fact and the kindness to deny it +Fatuity of a man in such things +Fatuity of age regarding all the things of the past +Fertile in difficulties and so importunate for their solution +Girl is never so much in danger of having her heart broken +Good comrades, as elderly married people are apt to be +He was too little used to deference from ladies +Impart their sufferings as well as their pleasures to each other +Know more of their clothes than the people they buy them of +Learning to ask her no questions about herself +Left him alone to the first ecstasy of his homesickness +Living in the present +Melting into pity against all sense of duty +Misgiving of a blessed immortality +More faith in her wisdom than she had herself +More helpful with trouble to be ignorant of its cause +Not find more harm in them, if you did not bring it with you +Not what their mothers but what their environments made them +Pain of the preparations for a day's pleasure +Part of her pride not to ask +Performance of their common duty must fall wholly to her +Petted person in her youth, perhaps, and now she petted herself +Place where they have been so happy and so unhappy +Provoked that her mother would not provoke her further +Question whether the fellow was more a fool or a fraud +Relationship when one gives a reproof and the other accepts it +Relieved from a discoverer's duties to Europe +Renunciation of his judgment in deference to the good woman +Waiting with patience for the term of his exile +We have to make-believe before we can believe anything +When he got so far beyond his depth +Why, at his age, should he be going into exile +Wife was glad of the release from housekeeping +Worst whim was having no wish that could be ascertained + + + + +End of this Project Gutenberg Etext of The Kentons, +by William Dean Howells + + diff --git a/old/whken11.zip b/old/whken11.zip Binary files differnew file mode 100644 index 0000000..82cd914 --- /dev/null +++ b/old/whken11.zip |