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+The Project Gutenberg EBook of The Inner Flame, by Clara Louise Burnham

+

+This eBook is for the use of anyone anywhere in the United States and most

+other parts of the world 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.  If you are not located in the United States, you'll have

+to check the laws of the country where you are located before using this ebook.

+

+Title: The Inner Flame

+

+Author: Clara Louise Burnham

+

+Release Date: June 5, 2016 [EBook #52240]

+

+Language: English

+

+Character set encoding: ISO-8859-1

+

+*** START OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK THE INNER FLAME ***

+

+

+

+

+Produced by Christopher Wright and the Online Distributed

+Proofreading Team at http://www.pgdp.net (This file was

+produced from images generously made available by The

+Internet Archive)

+

+

+

+

+

+

+

+

+

+                       [Illustration: THE CALL]

+

+

+

+

+                            The Inner Flame

+

+                                A Novel

+

+                                  by

+                         Clara Louise Burnham

+

+                            [Illustration]

+

+                               NEW YORK

+                           GROSSET & DUNLAP

+                              PUBLISHERS

+

+

+

+

+               COPYRIGHT, 1912, BY CLARA LOUISE BURNHAM

+

+                          ALL RIGHTS RESERVED

+

+

+

+

+                               Contents

+

+

+       I. A NOVEMBER NIGHT                                             1

+

+      II. SEVERED COMPANIONSHIP                                       25

+

+     III. MRS. FABIAN'S VISIT                                         41

+

+      IV. PHILIP SIDNEY                                               55

+

+       V. ELIZA'S INVITATION                                          79

+

+      VI. BROTHER AND SISTER                                          95

+

+     VII. THE FLITTING                                               114

+

+    VIII. AN INTERRUPTED TEA                                         131

+

+      IX. HEIRLOOMS                                                  157

+

+       X. THE ARRIVAL                                                176

+

+      XI. MRS. FABIAN'S GIFTS                                        194

+

+     XII. MRS. FABIAN'S DINNER LIST                                  209

+

+    XIII. CHRISTMAS                                                  222

+

+     XIV. SPRING                                                     242

+

+      XV. JUNE                                                       258

+

+     XVI. THE PEACEMAKER                                             276

+

+    XVII. MRS. FABIAN'S SCHEME                                       296

+

+   XVIII. CASCO BAY                                                  312

+

+     XIX. FLASHES OF BLUE                                            328

+

+      XX. ELIZA SURRENDERS                                           347

+

+     XXI. THE SINGER                                                 366

+

+    XXII. THE NEW STUDIO                                             383

+

+   XXIII. PHILIP'S LETTER                                            400

+

+    XXIV. PHILIP ENTERTAINS                                          405

+

+     XXV. BY MOONLIGHT                                               429

+

+    XXVI. TIDES                                                      450

+

+   XXVII. THE SON                                                    466

+

+  XXVIII. A TIDAL WAVE                                               480

+

+

+

+

+The Inner Flame

+

+

+

+

+The Inner Flame

+

+

+

+

+CHAPTER I

+

+A NOVEMBER NIGHT

+

+

+Soft snowflakes whirled around the lonely mountain cabin under a

+November sky. The wind that had rushed up the valley sighing and

+groaning between the wooded walls, now roared its wild delight in the

+freedom of the heights. The twilight was deepening fast. Two women were

+alone in the cabin. The one who was at home stooped and put another log

+on the blazing fire. The other could not have stooped, no matter how

+willing her spirit, so straitly and fashionably was her ample figure

+bound by artful bone and steel.

+

+"Mercy, Mary!" she ejaculated, standing stock still in the middle of

+the room, fixed there by a triumphant shriek of the rioting wind. "I

+never had the least desire to go up in an aeroplane. Are you well

+anchored here?"

+

+"Like a lichen on a rock," returned Mary Sidney, smiling. "Take off

+your hat, Isabel, and be comfy."

+

+"Do you think we _must_ stay all night?" demurred the visitor. "You

+know I love you, Mary, and if that wind would just let us hear

+ourselves think, I wouldn't ask anything better than an evening's chat

+with you alone."

+

+"You wouldn't as it is," returned Mrs. Sidney soothingly, approaching

+her cousin and unpinning the veil which Mrs. Fabian had not raised. The

+visitor clung to her wraps with the feeling that an entire readiness to

+flee back to the haunts of men would aid her to depart. Mary Sidney's

+calm amused smile carried some reassurance. It flickered across her

+face as the firelight flickered across the dark rafters above.

+

+"I _told_ Henry I thought the sky looked threatening before we left

+town," declared the guest while she submitted to the gentle touch, "but

+nothing would do but that he should visit the mine this very afternoon.

+Isn't this fearful, Mary?" as a renewed gust shook the firelit rafters

+until they creaked heavily.

+

+"Oh, no, this sounds a great deal worse than it is," was the response.

+

+"You're comforting me, I know you are"; and Mrs. Fabian, denuded of her

+correct hat, permitted herself to take the offered chair by the fire.

+"I hope, though, that you have a kennel of St. Bernard dogs in the back

+yard. I _should_ like to see Henry again, bad as he is!"

+

+Mrs. Sidney took the other chair and rolled a blazing log to a better

+position.

+

+"You'll see the men coming along in a little while--when they grow

+hungry," she returned placidly.

+

+"And how in the world do you get servants up here?" demanded the other.

+

+"We don't. We could get a Chinaman, but if we had him we'd have to

+amuse him, there's no one else for him to talk to, so we go without."

+

+"Horrors!" ejaculated Mrs. Fabian with solemn repugnance. "And you live

+here alone!"

+

+The hostess laughed at her tone. "Not enough of the year to dislike it.

+One learns a lot of things in these hills--bidding farewell to time,

+for instance. You see a man with a gun tramping through the valley and

+you rush to the door, and cry out, 'Hey, there, you with the gun, what

+day is this?' and the man turns and shouts back, 'You can't prove it by

+me!'"

+

+Mrs. Sidney laughed again and her cousin shuddered.

+

+"Thank God for civilization!" ejaculated the latter devoutly; then,

+as the window-glass sucked in and out with a cracking sound, "Give

+me my hat, Mary," she said, sitting up. "If we're going down the

+mountain-side, let's go decently and in order."

+

+"For shame, you Maine woman!" was the laughing rejoinder. "Your

+sea-captains would call this 'a breeze o' wind!' That's all. That's

+another thing one becomes acquainted with up here: the wind. I didn't

+know anything about it when I came. You should be here some nights if

+you call this a storm! I used to set my dish-pans out at the door;

+but when a few had whirled down the mountain-side into the valley,

+I learned caution. One can't go around the corner here and buy a

+dish-pan."

+

+"Mary," Mrs. Fabian eyed her with bewildered admiration, "you're

+wonderful! You didn't used to be wonderful," she added in an

+argumentative tone. "Once you'd have made just as much fuss about this

+as I would. You remember--if you try, you'll remember perfectly--that

+I warned you, more than twenty-five years ago, not to marry a mining

+engineer. I told you then it was just as bad as marrying an army

+officer. There would be no repose about it, and no comfort. You see

+I was right. Here we are, to all intents and purposes, in a shrieking

+balloon, and you call it home!" The speaker kept a watchful eye on the

+rattling casement and drew herself up with renewed tension at each wind

+blast, but nevertheless she talked on.

+

+"With it all you haven't as many lines in your face as I have, and your

+hair is as brown as ever. Mine would be white if I lived here instead

+of in New York. And the calmness of your eyes, and your smile! Tell me,

+Mary, tell me now honestly,--I shall sympathize with you,--_is_ it the

+calmness of despair?"

+

+Mary Sidney did not smile. She looked into the depths of the fire and

+her guest wondered what memories were unfolding themselves to her rapt

+vision.

+

+"No," she answered simply at last, "such calmness as I possess is not

+of despair, but of--faith." The speaker paused before the utterance of

+the last word as if hesitating for the one which should best express

+her meaning.

+

+"Do you mean something religious?" asked Mrs. Fabian stiffly.

+

+The stiffness was not disapproval. It was owing to the divided

+attention she was bestowing upon the storm, lest if she took her mind

+off the wind it might seize the advantage and hurl the cabin from its

+moorings.

+

+"I should think a person would _have_ to be religious here," she went

+on. "You must be reduced--simply _reduced_ to trusting in Providence!"

+

+Mary Sidney smiled at the fire. "I didn't have a trusting disposition.

+I didn't have even a happy disposition, as you evidently remember."

+

+"Well," returned Isabel, "it wasn't a bad one: I didn't imply anything

+like that; but you were one of the spoiled-beauty sort of girls, not a

+bit cut out for hardship," the speaker looked judicially at the once

+familiar face, softened from its old brilliancy. "What an advantage it

+is to have beautiful eyes!" she added bluntly. "They don't desert you

+when other things go;--not that it matters a bit what sort of eyes a

+woman has, living the life you have."

+

+"Oh, Allan thinks it does," returned Mary in her restful manner.

+

+"Does he appreciate you?" Mrs. Fabian asked the question almost angrily.

+

+Mrs. Sidney smiled. "We don't talk much about that, but we're better

+companions, happier, dearer, than we were twenty-five years ago."

+

+Her cousin gazed curiously. "Then it did turn out all right. You've

+written so little to your friends. How could your relatives tell?"

+

+"You see, now, why," returned the other. "There's not much

+letter-material here, and even when we're living in town, all our

+friends and our pursuits are so foreign to the people at home. Little

+by little one gets out of the way of writing."

+

+"Don't you ever long for Fifth Avenue?" asked Mrs. Fabian suddenly, her

+cousin's exile impressing her more and more as utter forlornity.

+

+"Oh, no, not for many years."

+

+"You never could have kept your figure there as you have here,"

+admitted the other in a spirit of justice. "I must say that," and the

+speaker composed her own rigid armor into a less uncomfortable position.

+

+"Do your own housework, Isabel," advised the hostess with a smile.

+

+"Heavens! it is too late to talk to me about that. I've enough to do

+without housework, I should hope. You've no idea how much worse things

+have grown in twenty-five years, Mary. A woman has so much on her mind

+now that nothing but regular massage from the crown of her head to her

+heels will offset it. The modistes and milliners are in a conspiracy

+to change styles so often that it takes active thought to keep abreast

+of them. Then you no sooner settle down really to learn Bridge, for

+instance, and feel that you can hold your own, than everybody begins

+playing Auction! And to know what people are talking about at luncheons

+you must see plays, and skim through books, reading at least enough so

+you can express an opinion; not that anybody listens. They all talk at

+once, their one and only object seems to be to get their own ideas out

+of their systems. I was glad to send Kathleen off to school. It does

+seem as if the girls had to go to college to escape as great a rush

+as we grownups live in. Then when they come back, having had another

+environment for four years, they adjust themselves to their own homes

+with such a sense of superiority that it makes you _tired_; that's what

+it does, Mary, _tired_. I've had a taste of it this summer. Kathleen

+has another year to go, but already she is perfectly changed. She cares

+no more for my advice, I assure you, than if I had just come down

+from Mars and had no judgment as to the things of this world. She's

+well-bred, of course,--I hope no daughter of mine could be less than

+well-bred,--but when I give her directions, or try to guide her in any

+way, there's a twinkle in her eye that I resent, Mary, I resent it

+distinctly. So there you are!" Mrs. Fabian gestured with a perfectly

+kept hand whereon a blazing gem flashed in the firelight. "There we

+are between Scylla and Charybdis. We either have to send our girls to

+college and let the little upstarts think they've outgrown us, or else

+have them rushed to death at home, keep them up on tonics, and let them

+sleep till noon!"

+

+With this dismal peroration Mrs. Fabian sat as far back in her chair as

+disciplined adipose would permit, and shuddered again at the wind.

+

+"Is a son an easier proposition then, in that madding crowd of yours?"

+

+"A boy does seem to have his life more plainly mapped out than a girl.

+Edgar is in his father's office." The speaker sighed unconsciously.

+"What is your boy like, Mary?"

+

+Mrs. Sidney kept silence for a thoughtful moment before answering.

+

+"He is like Pegasus harnessed to a coal-wagon," she said at last

+slowly.

+

+"How very extraordinary. What do you mean?"

+

+Instead of replying, Mrs. Sidney went to a table in the far corner of

+the cabin and brought therefrom a portfolio which she opened on the

+chair beside her guest.

+

+A mass of sketches was disclosed,--charcoal, water-color, oil. Mrs.

+Sidney lifted one, and held it before the other's eyes.

+

+Mrs. Fabian raised her lorgnette.

+

+"Why, it's you, Mary; and it's capital!" she ejaculated.

+

+Another and another sheet was offered for her inspection.

+

+"Why, they're all of you. The artist must be in love with you."

+

+Mary Sidney gave her a slight smile. "I hope so, a little, but it was

+Hobson's choice when it came to models. Phil seldom could get any one

+beside me. Here's one of his father. He had to do it slyly behind a

+newspaper, for Allan is rather impatient of Phil's tendency."

+

+"So that is what your boy is at! It's real talent, isn't it?"

+

+"Yes, it is," returned the mother with quiet conviction.

+

+"And where is he studying?"

+

+"He has never studied anything but mining engineering. He is working

+with his father here."

+

+The unconscious sadness of the speaker's tone impressed her listener.

+

+"He does landscapes, too," went on the mother, lifting one after

+another of the sketches of mountain, valley, and streamlet, "a little

+of everything, you see." Mrs. Sidney regarded the work wistfully.

+

+"Why, they're lovely," declared Mrs. Fabian. "Why don't you pin them up

+on the walls?"

+

+"Because it rather annoys Phil's father, to see them, and it only

+tantalizes the boy."

+

+"So Mr. Sidney isn't willing he should study?"

+

+"I don't think he would thwart us if he saw any hope in it, but one

+can't enter on the life of an art-student without any capital. Allan

+knows there is a living for Phil in the work of a mining engineer, so

+he has discouraged the boy's talent."

+

+"It is a great responsibility to thwart a child's bent," declared Mrs.

+Fabian impressively.

+

+"I have always felt so. I used to be very restless and anxious about

+it. My husband seemed to feel that because Phil was a strapping boy,

+a natural athlete, that painting was a womanish profession for him.

+He had the ability to help him into mining engineering lines, and he

+always pooh-poohed the idea of Phil's attempting to be an artist." Mrs.

+Sidney gave a little shrug. "We didn't have the money anyway, so Allan

+naturally has had his way."

+

+"One can't blame him," returned Mrs. Fabian, who had relaxed as the

+wind ceased to shake the cabin. "Painting is even more precarious than

+acting; yet what a talent the boy has!"

+

+She held before her a bold sketch in charcoal of the mountain-side in

+the winter--few in strokes, but striking in its breadth and power.

+

+"He has had an offer from a newspaper in Denver to take the position of

+cartoonist. His ability for caricature is good. See these of Allan."

+

+Mrs. Fabian laughed as she examined the small sheets. "I haven't seen

+your husband for ten years, Mary, but these recall his clean-cut face

+better than a photograph would, I believe. Phil rather gets back at his

+father in these, doesn't he?"

+

+"Oh, Allan laughed at them too. He's secretly proud of Phil's

+cleverness, even while he discourages it. He tells him it is all right

+for an accomplishment, but a forlorn hope for a living."

+

+"And right he is," responded Mrs. Fabian, laying down the sketches.

+"Look at Aunt Mary's experience. There she has lived alone all these

+years and given her life to the attempt to make a name in the artistic

+world. I go sometimes to see her, of course, for there she is right

+in town, but her pictures"--Mrs. Fabian lifted her eyes to the

+rafters--"they're daubs!"

+

+"I know," returned Mary Sidney, looking back into the fire. "She sent

+me one on my last birthday. She never forgets her name-child."

+

+Mrs. Fabian laughed. "I fancy you wished she would, for that time."

+

+"No," returned the hostess, slowly, "I think Aunt Mary sees more than

+she has the technique to express. She gets an effect."

+

+Mrs. Fabian raised her eyebrows. "She certainly does. She makes me want

+to run a mile."

+

+"The gift led to our having a little correspondence. I sent her a

+couple of Phil's sketches and she was delighted with them."

+

+"She might well be," was the answer. There was a brief silence, then

+the visitor continued: "So Phil is something of a bone of contention

+between you and his father?"

+

+"It is our only difference. Yet it can scarcely even be called that,

+because it is a fact that we haven't the money to give him the start he

+should have."

+

+Mrs. Fabian looked at her cousin curiously.

+

+"So this new calmness of yours--this repose. It is resignation, at

+least, if not despair."

+

+Mary Sidney smiled at the fire. "No," she returned, "I told you. It is

+faith."

+

+"Religion?"

+

+"Yes, religion. Not the sort of ideas we were brought up in, Isabel.

+Something quite different."

+

+"What is it, then? Where did you find it?"

+

+"It found me."

+

+"How mysterious! Is that wind coming up again, Mary?"

+

+"How it blew that night!" said Mary Sidney thoughtfully, still looking

+into the fire. "It was just before Thanksgiving, I remember, five

+years ago. Allan and I had come up to the mine, Phil had gone back to

+college, and one night a belated traveller, overtaken by the storm

+which came up as suddenly as this, stopped at the door and asked if he

+could stay all night with us. He was one of these vital men, full of

+energy, who seem to exhale good cheer. Allan thoroughly enjoyed a talk

+with him that evening, and when we went to bed I remember his sighing

+and remarking that a man must be either a fool or a philosopher who

+could keep such an optimistic outlook on life as this Mr. Tremaine.

+I returned that perhaps our guest had struck a gold-mine here in the

+mountains, and I remember how Allan grumbled--'Either that, or the pot

+of gold at the end of the rainbow.'

+

+"Allan came in here once, where we had left the guest to sleep on the

+couch, to see if he wanted anything; and he found him reading in front

+of the embers. When he came back he remarked: 'That fellow has a smile

+that doesn't usually last beyond the tenth year.' The next morning

+dawned bright and our guest was in haste to depart. He tried in the

+nicest way to pay us for taking in a stranger, and we quite honestly

+told him that if any money were to pass it should go from us to him

+for cheering our exile. He took from his pocket a small black book and

+held it out to me. 'Then,' he said, 'may I leave with you a little

+book which has broken up the clouds of life for me, and let the light

+stream through? You have time up here to read,--and to think?' He made

+the addition with that smile which had roused Allan's curiosity, shook

+hands with us both, thanked us again, mounted his horse and rode away.

+We never saw him afterward. I often wish I knew where he was, that I

+might thank him."

+

+"What was the book?" asked Mrs. Fabian, impressed by the fervor of the

+other's tone.

+

+"A--a commentary on the Bible. A new light on the meaning of the Bible."

+

+"How queer! I'm sure I thought our family knew as much about the Bible

+as the average of decent people."

+

+Mrs. Fabian's tone was slightly resentful.

+

+"We did," returned Mary Sidney.

+

+"So that's what you meant a few minutes ago by the calm of faith."

+

+Mrs. Sidney nodded. "I know now what that sentence means: 'Cast your

+burden on the Lord.' Phil is the most precious thing on earth to me.

+The years seem to be slipping by without showing us a possible path

+to what we wish. 'Wait patiently on the Lord' doesn't mean inaction

+either. I've learned that. I know that at the right time--the right

+moment--circumstances will arise to show us if Phil is to--"

+

+A sudden blast of wind brought a start and a muffled exclamation from

+the guest, and at the same instant a stamping sounded outside. The

+lamp-flames rose wildly, and smoked in the instant of opening the door

+wide enough to admit the lithe form of a man whose shoulders and soft

+felt hat glistened with snow. He quickly closed the door and stamped

+again, taking off the hat from his short damp locks and shaking it

+vigorously.

+

+"Phil, this is my cousin, Mrs. Fabian," said Mrs. Sidney. "You used to

+call her Aunt Isabel when you were a little chap and we went to visit

+her once. Do you remember?"

+

+"When a cousin is once removed she becomes an aunt," declared Mrs.

+Fabian, looking the young man over with approval.

+

+"My hand is too wet to shake," he said, meeting her interested gaze,

+his own luminous in the firelight.

+

+"Lucky boy! You have your mother's eyes!" she exclaimed.

+

+"Oh, no," said Mary Sidney; "Phil's are blue."

+

+"Dark with terror, then!" exclaimed Mrs. Fabian, again anxious. "Isn't

+the storm frightful?"

+

+Phil's amused glance sought his mother's.

+

+"It's sort of spitting outside," he returned, unbuttoning his corduroy

+coat.

+

+"You're making fun of a tenderfoot," said Mrs. Fabian, watching his

+keen face admiringly. "Don't pretend. What have you done with my poor

+innocent husband?"

+

+"He'll be up here in a few minutes with my poor innocent father who has

+been showing him why he'll never be a millionaire out of that mine."

+

+"What do I care if he isn't, so long as he isn't lost in this storm!"

+

+"I came on ahead because the mail had just been brought in." As he

+spoke, the young man brought a small bunch of letters and papers from

+an inner pocket.

+

+"A great excitement, Isabel," said the hostess. "Only twice a week, you

+know."

+

+"There's another letter from the Denver paper," went on Phil, looking

+at his mother steadily.

+

+"You'll forgive us if we open everything, won't you, Isabel?" asked

+Mrs. Sidney.

+

+"Indeed, yes. Don't mind me." Mrs. Fabian returned to her chair by the

+fire and regarded the pair who seated themselves by the table.

+

+Phil had slipped off the damp coat, and his arm in its striped linen

+sleeve was thrown around his mother's shoulders.

+

+The visitor's eyes filled with something like envy. Kathleen and Edgar

+were her step-children, the boy had been five years of age when she

+began to be, to use her own declaration, the best stepmother in the

+world. Edgar would never think of reading his letters with her in this

+frankly affectionate attitude. Must one live on a mountain-top, she

+wondered, to win the sort of look she had seen in this son's eyes?

+

+"I've been showing your Aunt Isabel your sketches, Phil," said Mrs.

+Sidney, holding open a letter they had just read. "I told her about the

+Denver paper. This is another offer from them, Isabel, an increased

+offer."

+

+"I'm sure that's very flattering," returned Mrs. Fabian.

+

+Phil did not speak. His straight brows were knit in perplexity, and his

+lips were set in the look of longing that his mother knew.

+

+"I don't know this writing from New York," said Mrs. Sidney, opening

+the next letter.

+

+Glancing over it she gave a startled exclamation.

+

+"Whew!" breathed the boy, reading over her shoulder. "Poor Aunt Mary!"

+

+"Isabel, Aunt Mary has gone!" exclaimed Mrs. Sidney.

+

+"What! I didn't know she was ill. She wasn't ill. Who is there to

+attend to things? Who wrote you?"

+

+"Eliza Brewster. This is from her. It was very sudden. She had been

+at work at her easel an hour before. How sad it seems! How lonely! I

+wish we had both been there, Isabel. There is the letter." Phil took it

+across to Mrs. Fabian. "You see. She was buried day before yesterday.

+Oh, I'm glad we had that little interchange in the summer. Eliza loves

+her, but, after all, she is not her own."

+

+Phil mechanically opened another letter. His thoughts were with that

+unknown relative with cravings like to his, working through the

+gathering years toward a goal which had ever retreated before her.

+He unfolded a business letter. It enclosed a small sealed envelope

+addressed to himself in another handwriting.

+

+"Aunt Mary's!" said his mother. The son's arm was again around her as

+with heads close together they perused the following:--

+

+ MY DEAR GRAND-NEPHEW, PHILIP SIDNEY:--

+

+ When you open this letter, I shall have gone to a world where surely I

+ shall be permitted to come nearer to the source of beauty.

+

+ My family all consider me a failure. I know it. They have laughed at

+ my poor efforts. I know it; but since your mother wrote to me a month

+ ago, sending me your sketches and telling me your longings, I have

+ felt that out in the free Western country, there lives one with my

+ blood in his veins, who will understand the thirst that has led me on,

+ and nerved me to untiring effort--that has made it my only hope of

+ happiness to live as I have lived, and work as I have worked. He will

+ also understand, perhaps, that few as my rewards have been, I have

+ occasionally felt that some beauty has crept through my brain and been

+ fixed to the canvas, and that such moments have given me the highest

+ bliss this world could bestow.

+

+ For a month, then, I have taken comfort in my artist-boy, no matter if

+ you are known to others as an engineer. I have kept on my easel the

+ photograph your mother sent me, and every day while I work, I look

+ from time to time into your eyes, your mother's lovely eyes. I rejoice

+ in your thick hair, and your splendid chin and firm, full-curved

+ mouth. It isn't often that a head wanders from the Louvre and becomes

+ set on a pair of modern shoulders. I, the old woman, peering through

+ her spectacles, and painting with a hand that is often far from

+ steady, have found a joy in studying the harmony of your promise. You

+ have my blood in your veins, but you will succeed where I have failed.

+ A happy failure, Philip. Don't feel sad for me. I've had moments of

+ joy that no one knew. No one took the trouble to know; but nobody is

+ to blame. Lives are very full in these rushing days.

+

+ I believe in you, and I long for you to get started toward that

+ land where you fain would be. Your mother says that the door hasn't

+ opened yet. Looking into your young eyes, a great thought came to

+ me. Supposing I, the ineffectual, could set that door ajar! With

+ the thought came the first great regret for my poverty. Never mind,

+ thought I stoutly; if I can set that door a wee bit open, his young

+ strength can do the rest!

+

+ I have had warnings that soon the great door will be opened for me;

+ the door that ushers in to the heart's desire. Mine has been for Truth

+ and Beauty, O God, Thou knowest!

+

+ So I am making my will--such a poor little short will; but all for

+ you, my kindred spirit, my knight who will deliver from failure, my

+ Philip Sidney.

+

+ The faithful maid Eliza will take care of my effects for you. You will

+ find some useful things among the paraphernalia here. I look at my old

+ easel and wonder if it will ever be promoted to hold a canvas of yours.

+

+ This letter will be enclosed to you in one from my lawyer, telling

+ you the business side of my wishes. The heart side no one can tell. I

+ swell with longing for your success, and happiness; and so good-bye.

+

+ The mother who never had a son, gains one in you. The painter who

+ never was an artist, becomes one in you!

+

+ And so, dear, I am your happy

+

+      AUNT MARY.

+

+Mary Sidney and her boy exchanged a look. With unsteady hands Phil

+straightened the legal letter, and they read it together. Then they

+rose from the table with one accord.

+

+Mrs. Fabian, wrapped in thought, looked up at the sudden movement.

+

+Phil's concentrated gaze went past her to the fire, and he stood

+motionless, one hand leaning on the table, the other arm around his

+mother. Mary Sidney clasped the rustling paper to her breast. All the

+self-forgetfulness of mother-love shone in her wet eyes as she met Mrs.

+Fabian's questioning look.

+

+"Isabel, I told you it would come," she said. "I told you we should

+know. The light is here. Phil is going to New York."

+

+

+

+

+CHAPTER II

+

+SEVERED COMPANIONSHIP

+

+

+Eliza Brewster could count on the fingers of one hand the number of

+times that tears had escaped her pale eyes. She had always felt for

+those who wept easily, the same leniency without comprehension that she

+entertained for women who fainted.

+

+Trials had come and gone in her life; but never, since the day when she

+discovered some boys maltreating her cat, had she shed such tears as

+flowed now in her sorrow. The cat's abbreviated tail bore witness still

+to that day's conflict, but both his wound and hers had healed.

+

+When would this new wound cease to ache and palpitate! Each day there

+in the lonely flat, Eliza Brewster renewed war with the memories to

+which she had no mind to succumb. The gentleness of her mistress,

+her innocent, ever-springing hope, her constant disappointments, the

+solitariness of her narrow life, the neglect of her relatives--all

+these things recurred to the faithful handmaiden with the terrific

+appeal which contracts the newly bereft heart, causing it to bleed

+afresh. Mary Ballard, in spite of her twenty years' greater age, had

+been child as well as mistress to the faithful woman, who cared for

+the quiet, shy dreamer of dreams through the twenty-five years of the

+latter's widowhood.

+

+Now Eliza's occupation was gone. All her rather hard philosophy, all

+her habitual self-possession, was swamped in a world where she could

+no longer call her dear one from the easel to her meals; and where

+the rooms of the little apartment grew spacious and echoed from sheer

+emptiness.

+

+Mrs. Ballard had bequeathed her maid all her clothing, and all her

+personal possessions, save one old-fashioned diamond brooch, which was

+to be sent to her namesake, Mary Sidney. Some weeks before her death,

+she told Eliza of the disposition of her effects. In referring to the

+small gift of money which was to be hers, she said:--

+

+"I wish it were more, Eliza, but," looking wistfully into the eyes of

+her companion, "I have a great mission for my little capital as I have

+told you. If only the amount were as great as the object!"

+

+"Nonsense, talking about wills," rejoined Eliza brusquely, a new

+delicacy in the loved face making her tone sharp, "more likely I'll be

+leaving something to you; though I don't know what it would be, unless

+'twas the cat."

+

+Mrs. Ballard smiled. "Not a bad legacy," she replied. "Pluto is very

+sympathetic. He likes to watch me paint. He has really concluded to

+endure the smell of oil and turpentine just to keep me company."

+

+At the moment the night-black cat was lifting green eyes of approval

+to his own portrait which stood near, and Mrs. Ballard buried a

+veined hand in his glossy fur. A few weeks later that hand was still.

+Oh, the dear garments with the outline of the wearer still warm in

+their curves! Who has not known the tender, overpowering anguish of

+their touch? Every day Eliza tried to systematize and pack her new

+belongings, and every day she postponed the ordeal until to-morrow.

+

+Mrs. Ballard's watch alone stood on the table at the head of her bed,

+hanging in the little satin slipper just as it had ticked beside her

+mistress's sleeping form so many years. The watch seemed as alive as

+Pluto, and almost as much of a companion. It spoke eloquently of the

+gentle being who had always been unconscious of its warnings.

+

+On the mantelpiece in the living-room, which had been studio as well,

+was Philip Sidney's photograph and his two sketches, one of his mother,

+and one of a storm-beaten tree. They were the two that Mary Sidney

+had sent in response to her aunt's gift in the summer-time. All three

+pictures were turned now to the wall. Mrs. Sidney was a relative. That

+stamped her for Eliza. The sketches had been either the vainglorious

+gift of a fond mamma, or else prompted by hope of the very result they

+had gained. As for the photograph of the artist, Eliza could not deny

+that it had marvellously cheered and companioned the last months of her

+dear one's life.

+

+Indeed, in those days, recent yet already seeming so long past,

+Eliza, out in her kitchen, had often laughed grimly to herself at the

+infatuation for the picture shown by her mistress.

+

+"If she was sixteen she couldn't be more head over heels in love," she

+would soliloquize. "I s'pose an artist has got to be just so stirred

+up by good looks, whether it's a landscape or a human; but I know I

+wouldn't trust a handsome man around the corner with a dog's dinner."

+

+In pursuance of these reflections, when her mistress had gone, Phil's

+picture went with the sketches, his face to the wall.

+

+Eliza's attitude toward the whole world was defiance on the subject of

+her mistress's lifework. Of course, Mrs. Ballard was an artist; a great

+artist. Eliza knew it must be so, there were so many of her pictures

+that she could not understand.

+

+A canvas which was a blur to her contained so much which the painter

+would explain while Eliza stood devotedly by, dutifully assenting to

+the unravelling of the snarl of form and color.

+

+"You don't care for it, do you, Eliza?" the artist would say sometimes,

+wistfully.

+

+"Indeed, I do, Mrs. Ballard," would come the response, and never words

+rang more prompt and true. "I'm just one o' those folks so practical,

+I can't see an inch before my nose and I've never had advantages. I

+haven't got any insight, as you call it, beyond a dishpan; but when you

+explain it so clear, that's when I begin to see."

+

+This latter was a loyal lie; as a rule, Eliza never did see; but she

+applauded just the same with vague murmurs of wonder and admiration.

+

+It hurt the faithful soul even now to recall how, when the sketches

+came from the West, her mistress had eagerly examined them, and bitten

+her lip, her eyes glistening. "There's the true touch, Eliza," she had

+said quietly. "This boy has a spark of the divine fire."

+

+"Pooh! I don't think so at all," Eliza had returned stoutly and

+contemptuously. "Of course, that drawin' of his mother is pleasant

+enough, but you haven't seen her in years. You don't know how good the

+likeness is; and as for that landscape, that rough twisted tree most

+blown off its feet and clouds racin' above those rocks, nobody'd ever

+think they was anything except just what they are, a tree and rocks and

+clouds; awful pokerish, I call it, not a bit pretty." Eliza's long nose

+lifted in scorn.

+

+Mrs. Ballard smiled and bowed her head over the wind-blown tree.

+

+"My flesh and blood, still," she murmured.

+

+Now, in the dreary days, Eliza moved about aimlessly, forgetting to

+eat, and roused only by Pluto's indignant _meows_, to remember that,

+though he might mourn, still he felt that he owed it to himself to keep

+his coat glossy by milk baths, taken internally.

+

+Never had he known such long luxurious naps in the lap of his mistress

+as now. Wrapped in thought she sat for hours without moving; the

+irrepressible tears welling up from her heart and creeping, one by one,

+down her thin cheeks.

+

+She had made no friends in the cheap apartment building where they

+lived. It was a changing population, which ebbed and flowed at the

+mercy of its own financial tide.

+

+"There ain't a lady in this house except you," Eliza had been wont to

+say to her mistress.

+

+"I don't believe we know that," Mrs. Ballard had rejoined; "but we're

+too busy for neighboring, aren't we, Eliza?"

+

+Whenever there had been any leisure, Mrs. Ballard had taken her

+handmaiden to the Metropolitan Museum of Art.

+

+Not for worlds would Eliza mar the joy with which her mistress bestowed

+upon her this treat. So she climbed endless stairs, and plodded weary

+miles with fortitude, having ready a response to every worshipful

+utterance with which Mrs. Ballard pointed out this and that marvel.

+

+"Wonderful, ain't it!" Eliza would respond with the regularity of

+clockwork.

+

+"How I love to get you out of that kitchen, Eliza, up into this

+atmosphere of genius!" her mistress would say, in a burst of affection

+for the strong mainspring of her household.

+

+"Wonderful, ain't it!" returned the beneficiary, stepping on the other

+foot in the effort to rest one leg.

+

+The sight of the very exterior of the great repository of art-treasures

+caused Eliza's bones to ache, if she caught sight of the imposing pile

+from a car window.

+

+One day, however, all this was changed. The Metropolitan Museum of Art

+rose in Eliza's estimation to the level of her own kitchen where a

+chromo depicting kittens in various attitudes of abandon hung over the

+table.

+

+Mistress and maid were doing the well-worn circuit. The faithful echo

+had repeated "Wonderful, ain't it!" for the twentieth time. The ardor

+in Mrs. Ballard's eyes was lending wings to her slender body, but Eliza

+had lagged, spurred on, and rested the other leg, until, to paraphrase

+a bit from Mr. Lowell--

+

+    "On which leg she felt the worse,

+    She couldn't 'a' told you, 'nother,"--

+

+when suddenly an inspiration of deliverance seized her. The fact that

+it had not seized her months before was simply another proof of

+devotion to the sun of her existence. Each time she entered the massive

+gates to her place of torture, she left such mentality as she possessed

+behind her. As well might a fish be expected to navigate in the free

+air of heaven as Eliza in these marble halls. This was her mistress's

+element. Let her guide. But one memorable day the two were standing

+before a marine.

+

+"Oh, Eliza, that's new!" exclaimed Mrs. Ballard; and from the vigor of

+her tone, her handmaid feared the worst. She had believed they were

+nearly ready to depart. Now her companion seemed inspired for another

+two hours.

+

+"Might it not have been painted from your island," continued Mrs.

+Ballard. "What adorable work!"

+

+"Wonderful, ain't it!" came Eliza's wooden accents.

+

+"What feeling!" murmured her rapt companion.

+

+"I only hope 'tain't sciatica," thought Eliza, wiggling her hip. Her

+casually roving eye caught sight of one vacancy on the bench in the

+middle of the room.

+

+"Don't you want to sit down a spell and look at it, Mrs. Ballard?" she

+asked. "There's a place."

+

+"No," was the slow, absent reply. "I seem to prefer to stand in its

+presence--a royal presence, Eliza."

+

+Miss Brewster waited no longer. With incontinent haste she limped,

+as in seven-league boots, toward the desired haven. She saw that a

+portly gentleman was heading for the same spot. She sprinted. She beat

+him by a toe's length, and nearly received him on her maiden lap. He

+recovered himself and glared at her. She maintained an unconscious air,

+her gaze fixed on the sky of the marine painting. It was all she could

+see; there were so many standing in front of her, welcoming this new

+treasure to the home of beauty.

+

+Presently Mrs. Ballard, missing her shadow, looked about and at last

+descried Eliza. She approached, her small, veined hands clasped on her

+breast for joy.

+

+"It seems as if it must have been done from the island!" she exclaimed.

+"How can you sit down, Eliza! I should think it would take you straight

+to your old home!"

+

+Miss Brewster did not say that she thought there was more likelihood of

+her again seeing her native place if she did sit down; but for once

+her clockwork did not act. It seemed as if the succumbing of her legs

+had impeded the other mechanism.

+

+"I just felt as if I had to, Mrs. Ballard," she answered numbly.

+

+"You dear!" exclaimed her mistress impulsively, speaking low. "I might

+have known it. You felt overcome. I don't wonder. It took me back to

+the island, too, in a flash! I dare say you often conceal homesickness

+from me, Eliza. We must try to go there next summer! I did use to think

+that perhaps Mrs. Fabian--but, no matter; we can go on our own account,

+Eliza, and we will, too."

+

+"It would be lots better for you than staying here in summer, that's

+sure."

+

+Mrs. Ballard sighed, "Yes, if only the rent didn't keep on, and keep

+on."

+

+Eliza knew the arguments. She did not pursue the subject now. She rose,

+keeping firm pressure, however, against the bench.

+

+"Take this place, Mrs. Ballard, and rest a minute."

+

+"Oh, I'm not a bit tired. I thought we'd take one or two more rooms.

+The light is wonderful to-day."

+

+Up to the present moment Eliza in this temple of genius had, as has

+been said, galvanized her energies and followed where her mistress led,

+at any cost, as unquestioningly as the needle follows the magnet; but

+this was the moment of her emancipation. Mrs. Ballard herself gave her

+the cue, for she added with consideration for an unwonted sentiment:--

+

+"Unless you'd rather stay and look at that reminder of home a while

+longer, Eliza? I'll come back for you."

+

+"Oh, would you, just as soon, Mrs. Ballard?"

+

+The eagerness of the tone touched her mistress.

+

+"Why, of course, my dear, do so; but I'd get up if I were you." Eliza

+had sunk back upon the bench with the certainty and impact of a

+pile-driver. "There is such a crowd you can't see anything from here

+but the sky."

+

+"I feel as if I could look at that sky for a week," responded Eliza

+with a sincerity which admitted of no doubt.

+

+"It is wonderful, isn't it?" returned her mistress, unconscious of

+plagiarism. She patted Eliza's shoulder. "I'll be back soon," she

+assured her, and moved away.

+

+"The good creature!" she thought. "How selfish I have been to her!

+I ought occasionally to let her go home; but I know she'd never go

+without me. She wouldn't believe that I'd eat three meals a day, no

+matter how faithfully I promised." And Mrs. Ballard laughed a little

+before becoming engrossed in an old favorite.

+

+She was gone so long that Eliza cogitated with newly acquired ingenuity.

+

+"It's a good thing," she reflected, "that the fool-catcher ain't

+artistic. He'd 'a' caught me here lots o' times. Supposin' I was with

+that dear crazy critter all this time, hoppin' along in misery, or

+standin' in front o' some paintin' like a stork." Eliza's light eyes

+twinkled. "Why shouldn't I set up a taste in pictures, too? Just watch

+me from this on."

+

+After this day Mrs. Ballard did observe with joy a transformation in

+her handmaid's attitude. When they visited the galleries Eliza would

+move along with her usual calm until suddenly some picture would

+particularly hold her attention.

+

+"Is that a very fine paintin'?" she would ask of her cicerone.

+

+"Which one, Eliza? Oh, yes, I see. Certainly, or it wouldn't be here;

+but in that next room are those I thought we should make a study of

+to-day."

+

+Eliza's light eyes swept the unbroken polished surface of the floor

+of the adjoining room. "I know I haven't got very far along in

+understandin' these things," she said modestly, "but to my eyes there

+is a certain somethin' there,"--she paused and let her transfixed gaze

+toward the chosen picture say the rest.

+

+Mrs. Ballard held her lip between her teeth reflectively as she looked

+at it too. On that first occasion it was a summer landscape painted at

+sunset.

+

+"We've passed it many times," she thought, "but it's evident that Eliza

+is waking up!"

+

+The reflection was exultant. Far be it from Mrs. Ballard to interrupt

+the birth throes of her companion's artistic consciousness.

+

+"Then stay right here, Eliza, as long as you wish," she replied

+sympathetically. "I shall be near by."

+

+She hurried away in her light-footed fashion, and Eliza continued to

+stand before her cynosure long enough to disarm possible suspicion, and

+then backed thoughtfully away until she reached a bench upon which she

+sank, still with eyes upon the picture.

+

+Mrs. Ballard from the next room observed her trance.

+

+"She is waking up. Her eyes are opening, bless her heart," she thought.

+"Constant dropping does wear the stone."

+

+Eliza would have paraphrased the proverb and declared that constant

+dropping saves the life.

+

+From this day on she professed, and triumphantly acted upon, an

+appreciation for certain pictures; and Mrs. Ballard marvelled with

+pride at the catholicity of her taste; for such serpentine wisdom

+did Eliza display in passing, unseeing, many an inviting bench, that

+never, to their last pilgrimage to Mrs. Ballard's mecca, did the latter

+suspect the source of her companion's modest enthusiasm.

+

+"Poor thing," thought Eliza during these periods of rest; "it's a sin

+and a shame that she hasn't got anybody worthy to come with her. If

+those relatives of hers were, any of 'em, fit to live, one of 'em would

+bring her here sometimes. The poor dear, as long as she hasn't a soul

+but an ignorant country body like me to sympathize with her, I've got

+to do my best; and really if I set a spell once in a while, I'll have

+more sprawl and can seem to enjoy it more. It's awful hard when you

+can't think of anything but your joints! I'm younger'n she is, and I'm

+ashamed o' gettin' so tuckered; but she's got some kind o' wings that

+seem to lift her along."

+

+Mrs. Ballard, from the next room, caught Eliza's eye, smiled, and

+nodded, well pleased. So the era of peace ensued; and when Miss

+Brewster caught sight from a street car of the Metropolitan Museum of

+Art, she was able to regard it without a frown.

+

+

+

+

+CHAPTER III

+

+MRS. FABIAN'S VISIT

+

+

+Eliza was not obliged to give up the apartment until the end of the

+month. Hence her drifting from day to day, and Pluto's naps in the lap

+of luxury.

+

+All her energy and systematic habits were in a state of suspension. Her

+clocks ran down. The watch in the tiny satin slipper beside her bed

+alone ticked the minutes away, and when Eliza wound it her eyes were

+too wet to see the time. Night fell and she went to bed. Morning dawned

+and she arose. She drank tea, but it was too much trouble to eat.

+

+One day the bell rang. At first she determined not to answer it. Then

+second thought came to her. What was she waiting here for except to

+answer the bell? Was her next duty not to introduce the usurper into

+his kingdom--to give into his desecrating hands those objects,--easel,

+palette, brushes, paints,--hallowed by her dear one's use? At the sound

+of a knock she hastened to fling open the door. Mrs. Fabian, elegantly

+gowned and furred, stood before her.

+

+Eliza gazed at this apparition dumb.

+

+"Why, Eliza Brewster," exclaimed the visitor with concern, "I scarcely

+knew you." After the mutual gaze of astonishment the caller moved in

+with her air of stately assurance, and Eliza followed her perforce into

+the living-room. Here Mrs. Fabian swiftly examined the possibilities of

+the scanty chairs, then seated herself in the largest.

+

+"You have been ill, too, Eliza? You look like a ghost!"

+

+The gaunt woman in the alpaca dress, so filled with resentment that she

+begrudged her own tears because they informed this "relative" of her

+grief, stood in silence with a beating heart.

+

+"Sit down, you poor creature," went on Mrs. Fabian, unsuspecting hidden

+fires.

+

+They burned higher at the tone of patronage, but Eliza, weakened from

+mourning and lack of food, felt her knees trembling and sank into the

+nearest chair.

+

+Mrs. Fabian, genuinely touched by the ravages she saw, broke the

+silence that followed.

+

+"I was greatly surprised and shocked to hear of Aunt Mary's sudden

+going."

+

+She began to feel uncomfortable under the set gaze of Eliza's swollen

+eyes.

+

+"I suppose you sent to my house at once, and found that Mr. Fabian and

+I were in the far West."

+

+"No, I didn't think of sending," returned Eliza.

+

+"You should have done so. Surely there was no one nearer to Aunt Mary

+than I."

+

+"It was in the paper," said Eliza dully.

+

+"Had I been here I should, of course, have taken charge of the funeral."

+

+The pale eyes emitted a curious light.

+

+"No, you wouldn't, Mrs. Fabian," was the quiet reply.

+

+"Why do you say that?"

+

+"Because the time for you to have done something for Mrs. Ballard was

+while she was alive."

+

+Eliza was too spent physically to speak other than softly, but her

+words brought the amazed color to her visitor's face.

+

+"You are presuming," Mrs. Fabian said, after a moment. "What do you

+know about it? I suppose Aunt Mary did not think it worth while to

+tell you all the things I did for her."

+

+"No," agreed Eliza, "she never said a word about the times you came

+with your automobile to take her riding; nor the picture exhibitions

+you took her to see, or the way you had her to dinner Thanksgivin' time

+and other times, or how you had her to spend part o' the summer with

+you at the island, or--"

+

+"Eliza Brewster, what does this mean!" Mrs. Fabian's eyes were dilated.

+"Aunt Mary was not related to my husband or to his children. I never

+expected him to marry my family."

+

+Miss Brewster's gaze was fixed upon the speaker with pale scorn, but

+the latter continued with what she endeavored to make a dignified

+defence. "I always sent Aunt Mary a present at Christmas."

+

+"Yes," interrupted Eliza. "Last season 'twas a paper-cutter. You gave

+her cuts enough without that."

+

+"And I called upon her at intervals," continued the visitor in a

+heightened tone to drown the small voice.

+

+"Intervals of a year," said Eliza.

+

+Mrs. Fabian started to rise, but bethought herself, and sank back.

+

+"You are impertinent," she said coldly. "A person in your position

+cannot understand the duties of one in mine. There can be no discussion

+between you and me." The speaker stirred in her chair and collected

+herself. "I--and every one of Aunt Mary's relatives--appreciate your

+faithful service to her, and thank you for it."

+

+"Don't you dare!" ejaculated Eliza, with such sudden belligerency that

+Mrs. Fabian started.

+

+"You're almost crazed with fatigue and grief, poor creature," she said

+at last. "I can see that you are scarcely responsible for what you say

+to-day. You must take a long rest. Shall you go home to the island or

+take another place in town? I can find you one."

+

+Mrs. Fabian felt the superiority of her own self-control as she made

+this kind offer; besides, in these troublous days with servants,

+steady, reliable Eliza, with a sure touch in cookery, was not to be

+despised. The visitor accompanied her offer with a soothing attempt at

+a smile.

+

+Eliza had relapsed into dullness. "I won't trouble you," she said.

+

+"It would not be any trouble," was the magnanimous reply. "Just let me

+know any time when you would like a reference, Eliza. It will give me

+pleasure to reward your faithfulness."

+

+Mrs. Fabian loved approval quite as much as she did admiration.

+She would feel much more comfortable to win that of even this

+uncompromising, cranky individual, so lined with the signs of

+suffering. As Eliza Brewster was a native of the island where Mrs.

+Fabian had resorted from the days of her girlhood, she had a very

+slight but old acquaintance with this woman. As she glanced at the

+thin hair, now fast turning grey, the sunken eyes and cheeks, and the

+bony, roughened hands, she shuddered beneath her ermine-lined sables,

+to remember that she and Eliza Brewster were about the same age. She

+passed a white-gloved hand over the firm contour of her smooth cheek as

+if to make sure of its firmness. "I believe it was I who recommended

+you to Aunt Mary in the first place, long ago," she added.

+

+"That's one o' your mistakes," said Eliza drily.

+

+"On the contrary," returned Mrs. Fabian graciously. She was determined

+to warm this forlorn specimen of New England frigidity into something

+humanly companionable, else how was she going to attain the object of

+her visit? She went on with such flattery of manner as she might have

+employed toward a desirable débutante. "It has proved quite the best

+thing that I ever did for Aunt Mary; securing her comfort and thereby

+the peace of mind of all who belonged to her. Don't call it a mistake,

+Eliza."

+

+"However that may be," returned the other immovably, "'t wa'n't you

+that did it. 'Twas your Cousin Mary."

+

+"Oh--was it? Oh, indeed?" responded Mrs. Fabian, slipping back her furs

+still further. Eliza Brewster's disagreeable manner was making her

+nervous. "Yes, I believe Mrs. Sidney was with us on her wedding-trip

+just at that time. Mr. Fabian and I have just returned from visiting

+Mrs. Sidney out in her wild mountain home."

+

+Eliza's eyes roved involuntarily to two blank sheets of board standing

+on the mantelpiece; but she was silent.

+

+"Do you know the contents of Aunt Mary's will, Eliza?" asked Mrs.

+Fabian, after waiting vainly for an inquiry as to her cousin's

+well-being.

+

+"I do."

+

+"What do you think of it?"

+

+"That don't matter, does it?"

+

+A streak of light illumined Mrs. Fabian's annoyance. Ah, that was

+what was the matter with Eliza. After twenty-five years of faithful

+service, she had expected to inherit her mistress's few hundreds. Full

+explanation, this, of the present sullenness. The disappointment must,

+indeed, have been bitter.

+

+Mrs. Fabian felt an impulse of genuine sympathy. She knew the singular

+loneliness of Eliza's situation; knew that she had no near kin, and the

+transplanting from the island home had been complete. What an outlook

+now, was Eliza Brewster's!

+

+"Perhaps the will was as much of a surprise to you as it was to the

+rest of us," Mrs. Fabian went on. "The Sidneys were amazed. They didn't

+tell me just how much Aunt Mary left young Mr. Sidney. Do you know?"

+

+"Yes," replied Eliza promptly.

+

+And again Mrs. Fabian looked at her interrogatively. As well question

+the Sphinx. She comprehended the stony closing of the thin lips. There

+might be a combination which would make them open, but she did not

+have it. She shrugged her fine-cloth shoulders. "Oh, well, it doesn't

+matter. It must have been very little, anyway."

+

+She sighed. She must get at her business, though she dreaded absurdly

+to introduce it. "Well, Eliza, if you will take me to Aunt Mary's room,

+I will go through her belongings. It is always the most painful duty

+connected with a death, but it cannot be escaped."

+

+Eliza stared at her, speechless.

+

+"Aunt Mary had a few very nice things," went on Mrs. Fabian. She tried

+to smile as at a loving memory. "The regulation treasures of a dear old

+lady,--her diamond ring, a diamond brooch, and a camel's hair shawl--My

+heavens!" cried the visitor, interrupting herself suddenly with a

+shriek of terror. "Take it away! Take it away!"

+

+She clung to the back of her chair; for Pluto, silent as a shadow, had

+sprung upon the ends of her pelerine as they lay in her lap and was

+daintily nosing the fur, while perilously grasping its richness, his

+eyes glowing with excitement. Eliza rose, and sweeping him into one arm

+resumed her seat.

+

+"Oh, how that frightened me!" Mrs. Fabian panted and looked angrily at

+the animal with the jetty coat and abbreviated tail, whose eyes, live

+emeralds, expanded and contracted as they glowed still upon the coveted

+fur.

+

+If she expected an apology, none came. Eliza's pale face showed no

+emotion. Endurance was written in every line.

+

+"To be interrupted at such a critical moment!" Mrs. Fabian felt it was

+unbearable.

+

+"Let me see"--she began again with a little laugh. "Your pet knocked

+everything out of my head, Eliza. Oh, yes, I was saying that I will

+look over Aunt Mary's things now."

+

+She rose as she spoke. Eliza kept her seat.

+

+"You can't do that, Mrs. Fabian."

+

+"I certainly shall, Eliza Brewster. What do you mean?"

+

+"I mean that they're mine. She left 'em all to me."

+

+The speaker struggled to control the trembling of her lips.

+

+The visitor looked the limp black alpaca figure over, haughtily.

+

+"Aunt Mary left you her diamond ring, her diamond brooch, and her

+camel's hair shawl?" she asked sceptically.

+

+"She left her diamond brooch to her namesake, Mrs. Sidney. I sent it to

+her a week ago."

+

+"Then, since you know Aunt Mary's wishes, what did she leave me? The

+ring?"

+

+"No, ma'am!"

+

+"The shawl?"

+

+"No, ma'am."

+

+Mrs. Fabian's nostrils dilated.

+

+"My aunt's poor trifles are nothing to me, of course, except for

+sentiment's sake," she said haughtily.

+

+Eliza bowed her bitter face over Pluto's fur.

+

+"I am quite sure, however, that she did not pass away without some

+mention of me,--her sister's child."

+

+"She did, though, Mrs. Fabian. If it's a keepsake you want," added

+Eliza drily, "you may have the paper-cutter. It's never been out o' the

+box."

+

+The visitor, still standing, eyed the other with compressed lips before

+she spoke:--

+

+"I have told you that I don't consider you responsible to-day. You are

+half-crazed, and I'm sorry for you. Answer me this, however, and mind,

+I shall verify your words by a visit to Mrs. Ballard's lawyer. Did my

+aunt leave you, legally, all her personal possessions?"

+

+"She did."

+

+Mrs. Fabian maintained another space of silence, gazing at the seated

+figure, whose gown looked rusty behind the polished lynx-black pressed

+against it. There was no mistaking the truth in the pale, wretched eyes.

+

+"Disappointed about the money, though, and taking out her ill temper on

+me," thought the visitor.

+

+To Eliza's increased heaviness of heart, the lady resumed her seat.

+

+"Aunt Mary's death was sudden and unexpected and that explains her

+not speaking of me," she said; "but I know it would please her that I

+should use something that she had owned. I remember that shawl as being

+a very good one. It came to her from some of her husband's people. I'll

+buy that of you, Eliza."

+

+"Will you?" returned the other, and Pluto emitted an indignant yowl and

+tried to leap from the tightening hold.

+

+"Don't you let him go, Eliza!" cried Mrs. Fabian in a panic. "He's

+crazy about my fur. They always are.--Yes, the shawl is of no use to

+you and the money will be. It is so fine, it would be wicked to cut it

+into a wrap. I shall spread it on my grand piano."

+

+Silence, while Eliza struggled still to control the trembling lips,

+and Pluto twisted to escape her imprisoning arm.

+

+"I'm willing to give you twenty-five dollars for that shawl."

+

+Mrs. Fabian waited, and presently Eliza spoke:--

+

+"It ain't enough," she said, against her impeding breath.

+

+"Fifty, then. We all feel grateful to you."

+

+"Mrs. Fabian," Eliza sat up in her chair as if galvanized and looked

+her visitor in the eyes, while she spoke with unsteady solemnity, "the

+price o' that shawl is one million dollars."

+

+The visitor stared at the shabby figure with the grey, unkempt locks,

+then shrugged her shoulders with a smile. "You'll come to your senses,

+Eliza," she said. "Some day that fifty dollars will look very good to

+you. I'll hold the offer open--"

+

+"Likewise," added Eliza, breaking in upon her words with heightened

+voice, but the same deliberation, "that is the price of each

+handkerchief she left me, and each one of her little, wornout slippers,

+and her--"

+

+She could get no further. She choked. Mrs. Fabian rose; Pluto, with

+another cry and a supreme writhe, tore himself from his iron prison.

+

+The visitor shuddered, and looked at him fearfully, as his eager eyes

+seemed to threaten her. She hastened precipitately toward the door.

+

+Eliza, putting the utmost constraint upon herself, rose and ushered her

+out.

+

+Mrs. Fabian uttered a brief good-bye. Eliza was beyond speech.

+

+While the visitor entered her waiting car, and sank with relief among

+its cushions, the mourner stood, her back against the closed door, and

+her eyes closed.

+

+Restrained drops ran down her cheeks in well-worn ruts, and

+occasionally a spasmodic sob shook the slight form.

+

+Pluto came to her feet, his short tail stiffly outstretched and his

+half-closed eyes lifted to the sightless face. In the long silence he

+rubbed himself against her feet in token of forgiveness.

+

+

+

+

+CHAPTER IV

+

+PHILIP SIDNEY

+

+

+The Fabians had given Philip Sidney a pressing invitation to spend

+his first week in New York with them. When he arrived, however, and

+announced himself at the house, through some misunderstanding there was

+no one there to receive him save the servants.

+

+A comely maid apologized for the absence of her mistress, saying that

+Mr. Sidney had not been expected until the following day; and showing

+him to his room she left him to his own devices.

+

+Emerging from his bath and toilet, he found Mrs. Fabian not yet

+returned. It was but four o'clock, and he decided to go to the Ballard

+apartment and attend to his errand there.

+

+Eliza had been doing some sweeping, the need for it goading her New

+England conscience to action. Her brown calico dress was pinned up

+over her petticoat, and her stern, lined face looked out from a

+sweeping-cap.

+

+There sounded suddenly a vigorous knock on her door.

+

+She scowled. "Some fresh agent, I s'pose," she thought. "Too sly to

+speak up the tube."

+

+Broom in hand, she strode to the door and pulled it open with swift

+indignation.

+

+"Why didn't you ring?" she exclaimed fiercely. "We don't want--"

+

+She paused, her mouth open, and stared at the young man who pulled off

+a soft felt hat, and looked reassuring and breezy as he smiled.

+

+"I did ring, but it was the wrong apartment. There was no card

+downstairs, so I started up the trail. Is this Mrs. Ballard's?"

+

+The frank face, which she instantly recognized, and the clear voice

+that had a non-citified deliberation, accused Eliza of lack of

+hospitality; and she suddenly grew intensely conscious of her cap and

+petticoat.

+

+"Come in," she said. "I was doin' some sweepin'. The first--" she

+paused abruptly and led the way down the corridor to the shabby

+living-room.

+

+Phil's long steps followed her while his eyes shone with appreciation

+of the drum-major effect of the cap and broom, and the memory of his

+fierce greeting.

+

+"I don't wonder Aunt Mary died," he thought. "I would too."

+

+Meanwhile Eliza's heart was thumping. This interview was the climax

+of all she had dreaded. The usurper had an even more manly and

+attractive exterior than she had expected, but well she knew the brutal

+indifference of youth; the selfishness that takes all things for

+granted, and that secretly despises the treasures of the old.

+

+The haste with which she set the broom in the corner, unpinned her

+dress, and pulled off her cap, was tribute to the virile masculinity

+of the visitor; but the stony expression of her face was defence

+from the blows which she felt he would deliver with the same airy

+unconsciousness that showed in the swing of his walk.

+

+"You're Eliza Brewster, I'm sure," he said. "My mother knew you when

+she was a girl."

+

+The hasty removal of Eliza's cap had caused a weird flying-out of her

+locks. The direct gaze bent upon her twinkled.

+

+"I wonder if she'd let me paint her as Medusa," he was thinking; while

+her unspoken comment was: "And she never saw his teeth! It's just as

+well."

+

+"Yes, that's who I am," she said. "Sit down, Mr. Sidney. I've been

+expectin' you."

+

+"You didn't behave that way," he replied good-naturedly, obeying. "I

+thought at first I was going downstairs quicker than I came up, and I'd

+taken them three at a time."

+

+His manner was disarming and Eliza smoothed her flying locks.

+

+"The agents try to sneak around the rules o' the house," she said

+briefly.

+

+"So this is where Aunt Mary lived." He looked about the room with

+interest. "We people in God's country hear about these flats where you

+don't dare keep a dog for fear it'll wag its tail and knock something

+over."

+

+The troublesome lump in Eliza's throat had to be swallowed, so the

+visitor's keen glance swept about the bare place in silence.

+

+"I see she didn't go in much for jim-cracks," he added presently.

+

+Eliza's lump was swallowed. "Mrs. Ballard didn't care for common

+things," she said coldly. "She was an artist."

+

+Phil comprehended vaguely that rebuke was implied, and he met the hard

+gaze as he hastened to reply:--

+

+"Yes, yes, I understand." An increase of the pathos he had always

+discerned since learning about his great-aunt, swept over him now, face

+to face with the meagreness of her surroundings. "Did Aunt Mary work in

+this room? I see an easel over there."

+

+"Yes, she worked here." The reply came in an expressionless voice.

+

+"Poor Aunt Mary!" thought the visitor. "No companion but this image!"

+

+Eliza exerted heroic self-control as she continued: "I've got the

+things packed up for you--the paints, and brushes, and palette. The

+easel's yours, too. Do you want to take 'em to-day?"

+

+"Would it be a convenience to you if I did? Are you going to give up

+the flat immediately?"

+

+"In a week."

+

+"Then I'll leave them a few days if you don't mind while I'm looking

+for a room. I haven't an idea where to go. I'm more lost here than I

+ever was in the woods; but the Fabians will advise me, perhaps. Mrs.

+Fabian has been here to see you, I suppose."

+

+Eliza's thin lips parted in a monosyllable of assent.

+

+"What a wooden Indian!" thought Phil. Nevertheless, being a genial soul

+and having heard Miss Brewster's faithfulness extolled, he talked on:

+"We hear about New York streets being canyons. They are that, and the

+sky-line is amazing; but the noise,--great heavens, what a racket! and

+I can't seem to get a breath."

+

+The young fellow rose restlessly, throwing back his shoulders, and

+paced the little room, filling it with his mountain stride.

+

+Eliza Brewster watched him. She thought of her mistress, and the pride

+and joy it would have been to her to receive this six feet of manhood

+under her roof.

+

+"She wouldn't 'a' kept her sentimental dreams long," reflected Eliza

+bitterly. "He'd 'a' hurt her, he'd 'a' stepped on her feelin's and

+never known it. He walks as if he had spurs on his boots." She steeled

+herself against considering him through Mrs. Ballard's eyes. "He's

+better-lookin' than the picture," she thought, "and I wouldn't trust a

+handsome man as far as I could see him. They haven't any business with

+beauty and it always upsets 'em one way or another--yes, every time."

+

+Her eyes wandered to the mantelpiece whose bareness was relieved only

+by three varying sized pieces of blank paper. She felt the slightest

+quiver of remorse as she looked. She seemed to see her mistress's

+gentle glance filled with rebuke.

+

+She stirred in her chair, folded her arms, and cleared her throat.

+

+"You can leave the things here till I go, if you want to," she said.

+

+Phil paused in his promenade and regarded her. Her manner was so

+unmistakably inimical that for the first time he wondered.

+

+Perhaps, after all, she was not just a machine. And the same thought

+which had been entertained by Mrs. Fabian occurred to him.

+

+"Twenty-five years of faithful service," he reflected. "I wonder if she

+expected the money? She's sore at me. That's a cinch."

+

+Phil's artist nature grasped her standpoint in a flash. The granite

+face, with its signs of suffering, the loneliness, the poverty, all

+appealed to him to excuse her disappointment.

+

+His eyes swept about the bare walls.

+

+"Where are Aunt Mary's pictures?" he asked. "Was she too modest to hang

+them?"

+

+"There were some up there," replied Eliza. "I took 'em down."

+

+The visitor's quick eyes noted the white boards on the mantelpiece.

+With an unexpected movement, he strode across to it, and turned them

+around.

+

+He stood in the same position for a space.

+

+"Great guns, but she hates me!" he thought, while Eliza, startled, felt

+the shamed color stream up to her temples.

+

+"What would Mrs. Ballard say!" was her guilty reflection.

+

+Pluto here relieved the situation by making a majestic entrance.

+His jewel eyes fixed on the stranger for a moment with blinking

+indifference, then he proceeded, with measured tread, toward the haven

+of his mistress's lap.

+

+"Hello, Katze," said Phil, stooping his scarlet face. He seized the

+creature by the nape of its neck and instantly the amazed cat was swung

+up to his broad shoulder, where it sat, claws digging into his coat and

+eyes glowering into his own.

+

+"Say, charcoal would make a white mark on you, pussy," he went on,

+smoothing the creature in a manner which evidently found favor, for

+Pluto did not offer to stir.

+

+"When I'm not doing her as Medusa," he reflected, "I'll paint her as a

+witch with this familiar. She'll only have to look at the artist to get

+the right expression."

+

+"A distinguished visitor from the island of Manx, I suspect," he said

+aloud.

+

+"No," returned Eliza, still fearfully embarrassed. "Pluto was born

+right here in New York."

+

+The ever-ready stars in the visitor's eyes twinkled again into the

+green fire opposite them.

+

+"It was his tail I was noticing. Manx cats are like that."

+

+"Oh, that was boys. If I could 'a' caught 'em I'd 'a' liked to cut off

+their arms."

+

+"I'll bet on that," thought Phil, "and their legs too."

+

+Eliza cleared her throat. She seemed still to see the gentle eyes of

+her lost one rebuking her. With utter disregard of a future state she

+was preparing a lie.

+

+"About those sketches," she said presently, and such was her

+hoarseness that she was obliged to clear her throat again, "you see, I

+was--sweepin', and I turned 'em to the wall."

+

+"Oh, yes," said Phil, and continued to smooth Pluto who purred lustily.

+"A pretty good one for New England," he thought; and carelessly turning

+the third card about, he came face to face with his own photograph.

+

+With one glance of disgust he tore the picture in two and threw it down.

+

+Eliza started. "What did you do that for?" she demanded sharply.

+

+Phil made a motion of impatience.

+

+"Oh, it's so darned pretty!" he explained. "I thought all those

+pictures were in the fire."

+

+"Mrs. Ballard set great store by that," said Eliza coldly, "and by the

+sketches, too," she added.

+

+She was sitting up stiffly in her chair, now, and her gaze fixed on

+Phil, as, her cat on his shoulder singing loud praise of his fondling

+hand, he came and stood before her.

+

+"I wish you'd let me see some of Aunt Mary's pictures," he said.

+

+The dead woman's letter was against his heart. He felt that they were

+standing together, opposed to the hard, grudging face confronting him.

+

+But this was Eliza's crucial moment. In spite of herself she feared in

+the depths of her heart that that which Mrs. Ballard had said was true;

+that this restless, careless boy had an artistic ability which her dear

+one had never attained. She shrank with actual nausea from his comments

+on her mistress's work. He might not say anything unkind, but she

+should see the lines of his mouth, the quiver of an eyelash.

+

+She felt unable to rise.

+

+"She left 'em all to me," she said mechanically, pale eyes meeting dark

+ones.

+

+Phil brushed Pluto's ears and the cat sang through the indignity.

+

+"Talk about the bark on a tree!" he thought. "I believe I'll paint her

+as a miser, after all! She'd be a wonder, with Pluto standing guard,

+green eyes peering out of the shadow."

+

+He smiled down at Eliza, the curves of his lips stretching over the

+teeth she had admired.

+

+"All right," he said. "I'm not going to take them away from you."

+

+Eliza forced herself to her feet, and without another word slowly left

+the room.

+

+Phil met the cat's blinking eyes where the pupils were dilating and

+contracting. "Katze, this place gives me the horrors!" he confided.

+

+More than once on the train he had read over his aunt's letter, and

+each time her words smote an answering chord in his heart and set it to

+aching.

+

+The present visit accentuated the perception of what her life had

+been. For a moment his eyes glistened wet against the cat's indolent

+contentment.

+

+"I wish she hadn't saved any money, the poor little thing," he

+muttered. "No friends, no sympathy--nothing but that avaricious piece

+of humanity, calculating every day, probably, on how soon she would

+get it all. I'll paint her as a harpy. That's what I'll do. Talons of

+steel! That's all she needs." He heard a sound and dashed a hand across

+his eyes.

+

+Eliza, heavy of heart, stony of face, entered, a number of pictures

+bound together, in her hands. The visitor darted forward to relieve

+her, and Pluto drove claws into his suddenly unsteady resting-place.

+

+Eliza yielded up her treasures like victims, and stood motionless while

+Phil received them. Never had she looked so gaunt and grey and old; but

+the visitor did not give her a glance. Aunt Mary's letter was beating

+against his heart. Here was the work her longing hands had wrought,

+here the thwarting of her hopes.

+

+His fingers were not quite steady as he untied the strings, and moving

+the easel into a good light placed a canvas upon it.

+

+Eliza did not wish to look at him, but she could not help it. Her pale

+gaze fixed on his face in a torture of expectation, as he backed away

+from the easel, his eyes on the picture.

+

+Pluto rubbed against his ear as a hint that caressing be renewed.

+

+He stood in silence, and Eliza could detect nothing like a smile on his

+face.

+

+Presently he removed the canvas, and took up another. It was the

+portrait of Pluto.

+

+"Hello, Katze. Got your picture took, did you? Aunt Mary saw your green

+shadows all right."

+

+He set the canvas aside, and took up another. Eliza's muscles ached

+with tension. Her bony hands clasped as she recognized the picture. To

+the kittens over the table in the kitchen she had once confided that

+this landscape, which the artist had called "Autumn," looked to her

+eyes like nothing on earth but a prairie fire! It had been a terrible

+moment of heresy. She was punished for it now.

+

+Phil backed away from the canvas, and elbow in his hand, rested his

+finger on his lips for what seemed to Eliza an age. Her heart thumped,

+but she could not remove her gaze from him.

+

+Pluto, finding squirming and rubbing of no avail, leaped to the floor

+and blinked reflectively at his mistress. A flagpole would have offered

+equal facilities for cuddling.

+

+He therefore made deliberate selection of the least unsatisfactory

+chair, and with noiseless grace took possession.

+

+Phil nodded. "Yes, sir," he murmured; "yes, sir."

+

+Eliza's teeth bit tighter on her suffering under lip. What did "Yes,

+sir" mean? At least he was not smiling.

+

+He went on, slightly nodding, and thinking aloud; "Aunt Mary was ahead

+of her time. She knew what she was after."

+

+Eliza tried to speak, and couldn't. Something clicked in her throat.

+

+Phil went on regarding the autumnal tangle, and with a superhuman

+effort Eliza commanded her tongue.

+

+"What was that you said, Mr. Sidney?"

+

+Phil, again becoming conscious of the stony presence, smiled a little.

+

+"Aunt Mary would have found sympathizers in Munich," he said.

+

+"That's Germany, ain't it?" said Eliza, words and breath interlocking.

+

+"Yes. Most of Uncle Sam's relatives want to see plainer what's doing;

+at least those who are able to buy pictures."

+

+"Ahead of her time!" gasped Eliza, her blood racing through her veins.

+"Ought to 'a' been in Germany!"

+

+And then the most amazing occurrence of Philip Sidney's life took

+place. There was a rush toward him, and suddenly his Medusa, his witch,

+his miser, his harpy was on her knees on the floor beside him, covering

+his hand with tears and kisses, and pouring out a torrent of words.

+

+"I've nearly died with dread of you, Mr. Sidney. Oh, why isn't she here

+to hear you say those words of her pictures! Nobody was ever kind to

+her. Her relations paid no more attention to her, or her work, than if

+she'd been a--a--I don't know what. She was poor, and too modest, and

+the best and sweetest creature on earth; and when your sketches came

+she admired 'em so that I began to hate you then. Yes, Mr. Sidney, you

+was a relative, and goin' to be a success, and the look in her eyes

+when she saw your work killed me. It killed me!"

+

+"Do, do get up," said Philip, trying to raise her. "Don't weep so,

+Eliza. I understand."

+

+But the torrent could not yet be stemmed.

+

+"I've looked forward to your comin' like to an operation. I've thought

+you might laugh at her pictures, 'cause young folks are so cruel, and

+they don't know! Let me cry, Mr. Sidney. Don't mind! You've given me

+the first happy moment I've known since she left me. I was the only

+one she had, even to go to picture galleries with her, and my bones

+ached 'cause I was a stupid thing, and she had wings just like a little

+spirit o' light."

+

+Philip's lashes were moist again.

+

+"I wish I had been here to go with her," he said.

+

+Eliza lifted her streaming eyes. "Would you 'a' gone?" she asked, and

+allowed Phil to raise her gently to her feet.

+

+"Indeed, I would," he answered gravely, "and we should have lived

+together, and worked together."

+

+"Oh, why couldn't it 'a' been! Why couldn't it 'a' been! What it

+would 'a' meant to her to have heard what you said just now about her

+pictures!"

+

+Phil's hands were holding Eliza's thin shoulders, and her famished eyes

+were drinking in the comfort of him.

+

+"I have an idea that we ought not to believe that we could make her

+happier than she is," he said, with the same gravity.

+

+"I know," faltered Eliza, surprised; "of course that's the way I

+ought to feel; but there wasn't ever anything she cared much about

+except paintin'. She"--Eliza swallowed the tremulous sob that was the

+aftermath of the storm--"she loved music, but she wasn't a performer."

+

+Phil smiled into the appealing face.

+

+"Then she's painting, for all we know," he said. "Do you believe music

+is all that goes on there?"

+

+"It's all that's mentioned," said Eliza apologetically.

+

+"I have an idea that dying doesn't change us any," said the young man.

+"Why should it?"

+

+"It didn't need to change her," agreed the other, her voice breaking.

+

+"I believe that in the end we get what we want."

+

+"That's comfortin'."

+

+"Not so you'd notice it," returned Phil with conviction. "It makes the

+chills run down my spine occasionally when I stop to realize it."

+

+"What do you mean?"

+

+"Only that we had better examine what we're wanting; and choose

+something that won't go back on us. Aunt Mary did; and I believe she

+had a strong faith."

+

+"We never talked religion," said Eliza.

+

+"Just lived it. That's better."

+

+"I didn't," returned Eliza, a spark of the old belligerency flashing in

+her faded eyes. "I can't think of one single enemy that I love!"

+

+"You were everything to Aunt Mary. Do you suppose I shall ever forget

+that?"

+

+"I sat down in front o' those pictures in the Metropolitan Museum,"

+said Eliza, her lips trembling again. "It's awful big, and I got so

+tuckered, the pictures sort o' ran together till I didn't know a

+landscape from a portrait. Then I used to take on over somethin' that

+had a seat in front of it, and she'd leave me sittin' there starin'.

+Oh, Mr. Sidney, I can't think o' one other mean thing I ever did to

+her,"--remorseful grief shook the speaker's voice,--"but I'd ought to

+'a' stood up to the end. It would 'a' showed more interest!"

+

+Phil squeezed the spare shoulders as they heaved. He laughed a little.

+

+"Now, Eliza, whatever way you managed it, I know you made her happy."

+

+"Yes," groaned the repentant one, "she said my artistic soul was wakin'

+up. Do you s'pose where she is now she knows it was black deceit?"

+

+"She knows nothing black where she is,"--Phil's voice rang with

+decision; "but she does know more than ever about love and sacrifice

+such as you have shown her. Beside," in a lighter tone, "how about your

+artistic soul? See how far above everybody else you understood her

+pictures."

+

+Eliza's hungry gaze became suddenly inscrutable. "Mr. Sidney," she

+began, after a pause, "I loved every stroke her dear hand made,

+but"--again pain crept into the breaking voice--"you said yourself

+America wasn't worthy of her, and I'm only what you might call the scum

+of America when it comes to _insight_ and--and _expression_ and--and

+_atmosphere_. Usually I had sense enough to wait till she told me what

+a thing was before I talked about it; but one day, I can't ever forget

+it, I praised a flock o' sheep at the back of a field she was doin' and

+she said they was--was cows!"

+

+Sobs rent the speaker and she covered her eyes.

+

+"I told her--'twas my glasses," she went on when she could speak.

+"I--told her they--hadn't been right for--a long time. She laughed--and

+tried to make a joke of it, but--"

+

+Eliza's voice was drowned in the flood.

+

+Phil patted her shoulders and smiled across the bowed head at the

+forlorn mantelpiece, where the sketches, unconscious of forgiveness,

+still turned faces toward the wall.

+

+"You've grown awfully morbid, alone here," he said, giving her a little

+shake. "You should be only thankful, as I am, that Aunt Mary had you

+and that you were here to take care of her to the end. Come and sit

+down. She wrote me a wonderful letter. I have it in my pocket and I'll

+show it to you."

+

+Eliza obediently yielded herself to be guided to a chair. Pluto had

+selected the best with unerring instinct; and suddenly into his feline

+dreams an earthquake intruded as Phil tossed him lightly to the floor.

+

+Drawing his chair close to Eliza, who had wilted back against the faded

+cretonne roses, the young man drew from his pocket an envelope and took

+out of it a letter, and a small card photograph.

+

+"Mother gave me this old picture of Aunt Mary--"

+

+Eliza pulled herself up and took it eagerly. "I must get my glasses,"

+she said. "I've cried myself nearly blind."

+

+Phil's big hand pushed her back.

+

+"I'll get them," he returned. "Where are they?"

+

+"There, on the end o' the mantelpiece. I had 'em, readin' an

+advertisement."

+

+She leaned back again and watched him as he crossed the room; watched

+him with wonder. In years she had not so given her confidence to a

+human being.

+

+She put on the spectacles and wistfully regarded the picture of a

+pretty woman whose heavy braids, wound around her head, caught the

+light. Her plain dress was white and she wore black velvet bands on her

+wrists.

+

+"Aunt Mary was considered different by her friends, mother says. In a

+time of frills she liked plain things."

+

+"I guess she _was_ different," agreed Eliza devoutly. "Would you think

+a man who married her would like whiskey better?"

+

+Phil shook his head. "Sorry," he said, laconically.

+

+"One good thing, he drank himself to death quick and left her free."

+

+Phil held out the letter.

+

+"Read it to me, please, Mr. Sidney."

+

+"Can't do it," returned the young man with cheerful frankness. "It

+makes my nose tingle every time."

+

+So Eliza read the letter in silence. It took her some minutes and when

+she had finished, her lip caught between her teeth, she took off her

+glasses and wiped them while she regarded Phil.

+

+"And you've got to live up to that," she said.

+

+"I'm going to try," he answered simply.

+

+Eliza gazed at him, her hands in her lap. She felt old beside his

+youth, weak beside his strength, ignorant beside that knowledge which

+had stirred her mistress to exaltation. Nevertheless, the humble love,

+and desire to help him that swelled her heart was a new desire to live,

+a consecration.

+

+Presently he took his leave, promising to return in a few days for his

+belongings.

+

+After the door had closed behind him, she looked down at the cat, who

+had awakened from another nap at the stir of the departure.

+

+He rubbed against her brown calico skirt as she lighted the gas; then

+she moved thoughtfully to the mantelpiece and turned the sketches about.

+

+"Mary Sidney," she mused, looking at the graceful head of Phil's

+mother, "you've had your heartache, and your sacrifices. You've been

+most pulled in two, between longin' to stay with your husband and

+follow your son--you told me somethin' of it in your note thankin' for

+the brooch. Nobody escapes, Mary Sidney. I guess I haven't done you

+justice, seein' you've raised a boy like that."

+

+Turning to the sketch of the storm-beaten tree, she clasped her hands

+before it. "Dear one," she mused tenderly, "you loved him. You was

+great. You died not knowin' how great you were; and you won't care if I

+do understand this kind better, 'cause all America's too ignorant for

+you, and I'm one o' the worst."

+

+Her eyes dwelt lingeringly on the sketch. She fancied she could hear

+the wind whistling through the writhing branches. "It looks like my

+life," she thought, "risin' out o' the mist and the cloud."

+

+She gazed at it in silence, then turned to the destroyed photograph.

+She seized the pieces quickly and turned them face up. The rent had

+missed the chin and cut across the collar. She regarded the face

+wistfully. The cat stretched his forepaws up her skirt until he was of

+a preternatural length. It was supper-time.

+

+"I wonder, Pluto," she said slowly, "if I couldn't fit that into a

+minicher frame. Some of 'em come real reasonable."

+

+

+

+

+CHAPTER V

+

+ELIZA'S INVITATION

+

+

+For the first time since she had been left alone, Eliza drank her tea

+that night without tears; and no lump in her throat prevented her

+swallowing the egg she had boiled.

+

+She held Mrs. Ballard's watch in her hand a minute before getting into

+bed; and looked long at its gold face, and listened to its loud and

+busy ticking.

+

+"Forgive me, Mrs. Ballard," she thought; and association added, "as we

+forgive our debtors!"

+

+"No, I can't!" she muttered fiercely. "I can't! What's the use o'

+pretendin'!"

+

+Muffling the watch in its slipper, she turned out the gas and got into

+bed. Composing herself to sleep more peacefully than she had been

+able to do for many a night, her last thought was of Mrs. Ballard's

+heir; and a sense of comfort stole over her in the very fact of his

+existence. Again she seemed to feel the sympathetic pressure of his

+kind hand.

+

+"He thinks she may be paintin' still," she reflected. "She's got colors

+to work with that's most blindin', they're so gorgeous, if we can judge

+anything by the sunsets at the island. Why not think so! It's just as

+reasonable as playin' harps, for all I can see."

+

+Ever since her dear one's passing, Eliza had felt too crushed and too

+wicked to pray; and being unable to say the whole of her Lord's Prayer,

+her New England conscience would not allow her to say any of it; but

+to-night a sense of hope and gratitude lightened the darkness, and a

+new gentleness crept over her countenance as it relaxed its lines in

+slumber.

+

+She wakened next morning without the load of despair on her heart; and

+slowly realized what had changed her outlook. She even smiled at the

+cat, who had leaped up on the foot of her bed. He understood that he

+might come no nearer.

+

+"Every single mornin', Pluto, I've been dreadin' that the day had come

+I'd got to show her pictures to him. Well, that's over."

+

+"Meow!" remarked Pluto, commenting on the selfishness of beings who

+overslept.

+

+"Yes, I know what you want." Eliza turned her head wearily on the

+pillow. "'Weak as a cat'! I don't think much o' that expression. I

+notice you're strong enough to get everything you want. Oh, dear, I

+wonder if I'll ever feel like myself again!"

+

+The cat jumped to the floor, and coming to the head of the bed sat down

+and regarded the haggard face reproachfully.

+

+"You're just as handsome as a picture, Pluto," mused Eliza aloud. "I

+don't know as it's ever made you any worse 'n common cats."

+

+This optimistic change of heart lightened the atmosphere of the

+cheerless kitchen that morning; and Eliza drew up the shade, which let

+the sun slant in past a neighboring roof for a short half-hour.

+

+A beam struck the kittens frisking above the kitchen table, and they

+seemed to spring from the shadowy gloom of their corner, flinging their

+little paws about with the infantine glee which had first captivated

+their owner.

+

+"Oh, yes, you can dance, still," she murmured, addressing them

+reproachfully; but she left the shade up.

+

+It was nearly noon when her doorbell rang again. Eliza hastened to the

+glass. She had on her black alpaca to-day. Sweeping-cap and apron

+were remanded to their corner, and she made certain that her hair was

+smooth, then went to the speaking-tube.

+

+"Yes?" she said, and listened for the possible voice of yesterday; but

+a woman's tones put the question:--

+

+"Is this Mrs. Ballard's apartment?"

+

+"Yes," replied Eliza briefly.

+

+"Is this Eliza Brewster?" again asked the sweet voice.

+

+"It is," came the non-committal admission.

+

+"May I come up, Eliza? It's Mrs. Wright."

+

+"Mrs. who?"

+

+"Mrs. Wright. Don't you remember my spending the day with Mrs. Ballard

+last spring, just before I went to Brewster's Island?"

+

+"Oh, Mrs. Wright!" exclaimed Eliza in a different tone. "Excuse me for

+keepin' you waitin'. Come right up."

+

+Well Eliza recalled the enjoyment of her dear one in that visit of an

+old friend, rarely seen. Mrs. Ballard's social pleasures were so few,

+this day gleamed as a bright spot in memory; and, not content with

+opening wide the door, Eliza went out to the head of the stairs to

+receive the mounting figure.

+

+"_She_ stood here the last time," she said brokenly, as the visitor

+reached her and held out both hands to receive Eliza's.

+

+The newcomer's silver-white hair made an aureole about the face that

+looked with kindly eyes into the other's dim ones.

+

+"I was just thinking of that as I saw you waiting," she said. "It was a

+shock to me to learn that Mrs. Ballard had left us. Was it very sudden,

+Eliza?"

+

+The latter could not trust herself to speak. She nodded and ushered

+Mrs. Wright into the living-room, where they both sat down, the

+visitor's heart touched by the mourner's altered countenance, and the

+evident struggle she was making not to give way. Her compassion showed

+in her gentle face and Eliza made a brave effort to smile.

+

+"I know I'm a sight, Mrs. Wright," she faltered. "I've never been any

+hand to cry, but I've nearly washed the eyes out o' my head the past

+week. I don't expect anybody to know what I've lost." Her lips twitched

+and she bit them hard.

+

+"I can very well imagine," returned the other, "for Mrs. Ballard spoke

+so warmly of you to me, and told me how many years your fortunes had

+been cast together. She said you were the mainspring of the house."

+

+"Thank you, Mrs. Wright," said Eliza humbly. "Yes, I saw that she ate

+and slept right. Her interests were where I couldn't follow 'cause I

+didn't know enough; but she was the mainspring o' my life. It's broken,

+broken. I haven't got the energy to lift a finger, nor a thing to live

+for. Honestly, Mrs. Wright," added Eliza in a burst of despair, "if 't

+wa'n't for the commonness of a Brewster bein' found so disrespectable

+as dead in a New York flat, and strange folks layin' their hands on me,

+I wouldn't 'a' lived through some o' the nights I've had since she went

+away. I'd lay there and try to think o' one single person it'd make any

+difference to, and there ain't one."

+

+"My dear," returned Mrs. Wright, regarding the haggard face, "how about

+your relatives on the island?"

+

+Eliza shook her head. "The only folks o' mine that are left are

+'-in-laws,' or else cousins I've scarcely heard from for twenty-five

+years. They haven't troubled themselves about me, and if I'd 'a' walked

+out that way, they'd only 'a' said I'd ought to be ashamed o' myself."

+

+"And so you ought," said Mrs. Wright with her gentle smile.

+

+"Well, I didn't anyway," said Eliza wearily. "Did you stay at the

+island all summer?"

+

+"Yes, and I'm still there. May I take off my coat, Eliza?"

+

+The hostess started up with sudden recollection.

+

+"I hope you'll excuse me, Mrs. Wright; if I ever had any manners

+they're gone."

+

+Slipping off the coat, and relinquishing it into Eliza's hands, the

+visitor went on talking. "My husband gave up business a couple of years

+ago. Perhaps Mrs. Ballard has told you that he was never a successful

+business man." Mrs. Wright stifled a sigh under a bright smile. "Nobody

+can be well and idle long, you know, so the next thing he began to be

+ailing, the dear man, and he thought the sea would do him good; and, my

+dear Eliza, it has done him so much good that we have become islanders."

+

+"You don't mean you're going to stay there?"

+

+The visitor nodded the silvery aureole of her hair.

+

+"That is what I mean. Mr. Wright went fishing all summer and he thinks

+he has found his niche in life. He has not been so well and happy in

+years."

+

+"You'll stay all winter?" asked Eliza incredulously.

+

+"Yes," the visitor smiled again, "and all the winters, so far as I

+know. Mr. Wright is perfectly content."

+

+"How about you?" asked Eliza briefly. She had gone back to her chair

+and frowned unconsciously into the peaceful face regarding her.

+

+"Oh!" Mrs. Wright raised her eyebrows and gave her head a slight shake.

+"'In my father's house are many mansions!' I like to feel that it is

+all His house, even now, and that wherever I may live He is there, so

+why should I be lonely?"

+

+Listening to these words, it seemed to Eliza as if some lamp, kept

+burning on the altar of this woman's soul, sent its steady light into

+the peaceful eyes regarding her.

+

+"It's a good thing you can get comfort that way," she responded, rather

+awkwardly. "I know it must 'a' been a struggle to consent to it--any

+one used to a big city like Boston. What does your niece say to it?"

+

+"Violet was with me a while. I am visiting her here now."

+

+"She teaches, don't she?--the languages, or something?" inquired Eliza

+vaguely.

+

+"No, gymnastic dancing and other branches of physical culture. She

+works hard, and no place ever rested her like the island, she thought.

+Do you remember Jane Foster?"

+

+The corners of Eliza's mouth drew down in a smiling grimace of

+recollection.

+

+"Do I remember Jennie Foster!" she said. "We grew up together."

+

+"Well, she keeps a boarding-house in Portland now in winters and comes

+to the old home, summers. We boarded with her, and now, instead of

+closing up the place, she has rented it to me."

+

+Eliza shook her head. "Pretty high up," she commented. "Some o' those

+February gales will pretty near shave you off the hill."

+

+"A good many husky generations have been brought up and gone forth into

+the world out of that house," said Mrs. Wright cheerfully. "There are

+some trees, you know. Do you remember the apple orchard?"

+

+"Huh!" commented Eliza. "I know how the scrawny little things look when

+they're bare! A lot o' shelter they'll be."

+

+Mrs. Wright dropped her head a little to one side and her kind grey

+eyes rested on Eliza's grief-scarred face. "I'm glad I came to see

+you," she said irrelevantly.

+

+"I'm a kind of a Job's comforter, I'm afraid. When I've thought of

+anything the past fortnight I've thought about Brewster's Island,--a

+sort of a counter-irritant, I guess."

+

+"No, no, we can't have that. You mustn't call the Blessed Isle by such

+a name."

+

+"Perhaps it won't be such a Blessed Isle after you've spent a winter

+there," remarked Eliza drily.

+

+Mrs. Wright smiled. "I know it was your native place, and I hoped you

+might have pleasant associations with it."

+

+Eliza sighed wearily. "Yes, if I could be twelve years old again, and

+go coastin' and skatin', and when it was dark tumble into bed under

+the eaves with a hot bag o' sand to keep the sheets from freezin' me,

+I should like it, I s'pose. I used to; but nobody on that snow-covered

+hill cares whether I'm alive or dead, and that cruel black ocean that

+swallowed up my father one night, and killed my mother, _that_ roarin'

+around the island in the freezin' gale is the only thing I can see and

+hear when I think of the winter."

+

+"Then you have been thinking of going back to the island?"

+

+"Well, it's either that or goin' into somebody's kitchen,

+here." Eliza's mouth twitched grimly. "Mrs. Fabian offered me a

+recommendation."

+

+"Oh, yes. The Fabians were very kind to Violet this summer."

+

+"You don't say so! I'm glad they can be kind to somebody."

+

+The bitterness of Eliza's tone impressed her visitor. "Mrs. Ballard was

+Mrs. Fabian's aunt, I believe," she ventured.

+

+"I believe so, too," said Eliza, "but nothing she ever did proved it."

+

+Mrs. Wright veered away from dangerous ground. "I have been thinking of

+you a great deal since I learned of Mrs. Ballard's going, and I wanted

+at least to see you before I went back." There was a little pause,

+then she added: "It occurred to me that you might be going home to the

+island--"

+

+"I haven't any home there," interrupted Eliza stoically.

+

+"--and I was going to ask you, in that case, if you wouldn't eat your

+Thanksgiving dinner with me."

+

+Eliza looked at her visitor, startled.

+

+"Think of me," she said slowly, "eatin' a Thanksgivin'

+dinner--anywhere."

+

+Mrs. Wright felt a pang at her heart under the desolation of the voice.

+It seemed the voice of the forlorn room in which they sat. She rose

+to hide the look in her eyes, and moving to the mantel took up the

+sketches that stood there.

+

+"Are these interesting things Mrs. Ballard's work?" she asked.

+

+Eliza was clutching the meagre arms of her chair until her knuckles

+whitened. How fate was softening toward her! The thought that this

+friend of her lost one would have her own hearth on the dreaded island

+warmed the winter prospect. A link with Mrs. Ballard. A friend with

+whom she might talk of her. The rift made yesterday in her submerging

+clouds widened.

+

+"Mrs. Wright," she said, unheeding the visitor's question, "you're

+religious, I know, 'cause you quoted the Bible, and 'cause you take

+cheerfully bein' buried in a snowdrift on Brewster's Island instead

+of havin' the things you're accustomed to. So I want you to know

+before you invite me to have Thanksgivin' dinner with you that I'm

+the wickedest woman in New York. I haven't said a prayer since Mrs.

+Ballard died. I hate Mrs. Fabian for her neglect of her, and I did hate

+the young man Mrs. Ballard left her little bit o' money to."

+

+Mrs. Wright, holding the sketch of Mary Sidney, turned and looked at

+the speaker.

+

+"Hated him 'cause he was an artist, and I didn't believe he'd

+appreciate her work, but just spend her savings careless. That's

+his mother you've got in your hand, and that's him, layin' on the

+mantelpiece torn across the middle."

+

+Eliza's aspect as she talked was wild. Mrs. Wright picked up the torn

+pieces and fitted them together. In fancy she saw Eliza rending the

+card. She felt that she understood all; the heart-break, the starvation

+fare of tea, tears, and misery, and the blank future.

+

+"His name's Philip Sidney, and his mother was Mrs. Ballard's niece and

+namesake. Yesterday he came. He was altogether different from what I

+expected. He took a load off o' my mind and heart. I don't begrudge him

+anything."

+

+"You're sorry, then, that you tore this handsome picture."

+

+"Oh, I didn't--'cause Mrs. Ballard set such store by it. I only

+turned it to the wall. 'Twas he tore it. He said it was too pretty

+or something. He does look different. The picture's kind o' dreamin'

+lookin' and he's so awake he--well, he sparkles."

+

+Mrs. Wright smiled at the haggard speaker.

+

+"I'm so glad you like him. Has he come to New York to study?"

+

+"Yes; he had to be a mining engineer when he wanted to paint. So now

+he's goin' to study with Mrs. Ballard's money."

+

+"Why--I remember," said Mrs. Wright, thoughtfully regarding the

+sketches. "Mrs. Ballard told me about him in the spring." She looked up

+again at her hostess. "You've been through a great deal, Eliza," she

+said, "and you've tried to go alone."

+

+"I had to go alone," returned Eliza fiercely; "but I can be honest if I

+am lonely and I won't sit down at your table without your knowin' that

+I'm a sinner. Don't talk religion to me either," she added, "'cause I

+ain't the kind it would do any good to."

+

+Mrs. Wright came back to her chair and her eyes were thoughtful.

+

+"I have a better idea still," she said. "For how long have you this

+apartment?"

+

+"One week more."

+

+"Oh, only a week. Then, supposing you come and live with me this

+winter."

+

+Eliza leaned back in her chair, speechless. The grey wall of the

+future slowly dissolved. The possibility of friendship--of a home--was

+actually unnerving in its contrast to all she had steeled herself to

+endure.

+

+"Come and help me, Eliza," went on the gentle voice. "Show me how to

+meet an island winter. I believe between us we can make a cosy sort of

+season of it."

+

+"Cosy!" echoed Eliza's dry lips.

+

+"Yes. There by the gnarled little apple trees, handicapped by winter

+winds, and the forlorn little chicken-house that stands near the

+orchard. Do you remember that?"

+

+"Yes," answered Eliza mechanically. "'T wa'n't always a chicken-house.

+Polly Ann Foster built it 'cause she quarrelled with her son and

+wouldn't live with him. I was a little girl and we were all scared of

+her. When she died they began using it for the hens."

+

+"Well, it's empty and forlorn now. Miss Foster can't keep chickens and

+go back to Portland every fall. That's our only near neighbor, you

+remember."

+

+"I remember. Why should you be such an angel to me?" burst forth Eliza.

+

+"Is that being an angel? Why, I'm so glad. You know I might be a little

+bit lonely at the island. Mr. Wright is pretty sleepy in the evening

+and the house rambles. We'll shut up part of it, Eliza, won't we?"

+

+"Oh, Mrs. Wright!" exclaimed the lonely woman, every trace of her

+fierceness gone. "What a godsend you're givin' me."

+

+"Then it's settled; and Violet will be so glad. She isn't quite pleased

+with our plan for the winter."

+

+

+

+

+CHAPTER VI

+

+BROTHER AND SISTER

+

+

+Kathleen Fabian sat at her desk, deeply engrossed in the theme she was

+writing, when her brother's name was brought to her.

+

+The expression of her face as she took the card did not indicate that

+the surprise was wholly joyous. She frowned and bit her lip, and an

+anxious look grew in her eyes as she went out into the hall to meet the

+visitor, who advanced with bounds, and grasped her in one arm, giving

+her cheek a brotherly peck.

+

+"What has happened, Edgar?" she asked as he led her back into her room.

+

+"I've come to see you, that's all," was the rejoinder.

+

+Edgar Fabian was an airy youth, carefully arrayed in the height of

+fashion. His fair hair was brushed until it reflected the light, and

+his jaunty assurance was wont to carry all before it.

+

+"Is anything wrong at home?" insisted his sister.

+

+"Certainly not."

+

+They were now inside the room and the young man closed the door.

+

+"Well, I haven't any money," said Kathleen bluntly,--"at least, not for

+you!"

+

+Edgar was but little taller than she, and, as she looked at him now,

+her serious slender face opposed to his boyish one, her peculiar slow

+speech, in which her teeth scarcely closed, sounding lazy beside his

+crispness, she seemed the elder of the two.

+

+"This leaping at conclusions is too feminine a weakness for you to

+indulge in, Kath," was the rejoinder as the visitor slid out of a

+silk-lined overcoat; but he rested his gaze upon his sister's dark hair

+rather than the eyes beneath. "I like your hospitality," he added. "I

+hope it isn't presumption for me to remove my coat. Try to control your

+joy when your brother comes up from New York to see you."

+

+"Of course I should always be glad to see you if--if you'd let me," was

+the reply.

+

+"What's to prevent?" inquired the visitor cheerfully.

+

+"My diary," was the laconic response.

+

+"Oh, you make me tired," said Edgar, taking out a cigarette-case. "May

+I?"

+

+"No," returned Kathleen, speaking with her characteristic deliberation.

+

+"You may have one, too"; he offered his case, still standing, since she

+did not sit. He smiled as he said it; the evenness of his teeth and the

+glee of his smile had melted much ice before now.

+

+"No, thanks," she answered coldly.

+

+He gave an exclamation.

+

+"Oh, your grave and reverend senior airs won't go down with me, you

+know." He sniffed suspiciously. "Some one has been having a whiff here

+this morning."

+

+"It wasn't I."

+

+"Well, it was somebody; and some one more critical than I is liable to

+drop in here and notice it. Just to save you trouble, I'll light up.

+Better take one. It's your golden opportunity."

+

+Again he offered the case, and now Kathleen took a cigarette

+mechanically. She still questioned her brother's debonair countenance.

+

+"Well," he said impatiently, after a moment of silence, "are we going

+to stand here until dinner-time like two tenpins?"

+

+"Are you going to stay until dinner-time?"

+

+"Why," with another effort at gayety, "if you go on like this and

+positively won't take no for an answer, perhaps I shall be obliged to.

+Say, Kath, what's the matter with you? You used to be a good fellow.

+College has ruined you. I didn't treat you like this when you came to

+see me."

+

+"Forgive me, Edgar," Kathleen's drawl became very nearly an

+exclamation. "I was thinking so hard."

+

+She dropped into a chair and he lighted his cigarette, and bending

+forward allowed her to draw the flame into her own.

+

+"Now, this is something like it," remarked the young man, sinking

+upon a leather-covered divan. He picked up a guitar that lay at its

+head, and strummed lightly upon it. "Think of your giving house-room

+to anything so light-minded as a guitar!" he added, his disapproving

+eyes roving about the entire apartment. "This room looks more like a

+hermit's cell every time I come."

+

+"No," rejoined Kathleen, with her soft laziness of speech, and blowing

+a ring of smoke upon the air, "it is only that you have time to forget

+between your visits."

+

+Edgar removed his cigarette and began to murmur "The Owl and the Pussy

+Cat," in a tenor voice calculated to pour oil on troubled waters,

+while he struck the accompanying chords with a sure touch.

+

+    "They took some honey, and plenty of money,

+    Wrapped up in a five-pound note!"

+

+he sang. "Think of it!" he groaned, pausing to save the life of his

+cigarette; "plenty of money! Who wouldn't be an owl or a pussy-cat!"

+

+Kathleen's eyes narrowed.

+

+"You speak of the rarity of my visits," he went on. "I suppose you

+think it is nothing to take a few hours out of a business day to run up

+here."

+

+Kathleen smiled. "On the contrary, I think it so much of a thing that

+it always startles me to get your card on a week day, and you seem to

+have other uses for your Sundays."

+

+"Very well," returned her brother, strumming the guitar with conscious

+rectitude; "know then that the Administration sent me up here to-day on

+business."

+

+"With me?"

+

+"No" (singing)--

+

+      'Drink to me only with thine eyes, and I will pledge--'"

+

+"Edgar!" protested the girl lazily, "it's too early in the day for

+that."

+

+"Hello, grave and reverend senior," he retorted. "I didn't know you

+were so much of a connoisseur."

+

+The girl's reply had a sad note.

+

+"I wish you would do something with that voice," she said.

+

+The singer smiled. He was now smoking again, and strumming the melody

+of the song. Perhaps he was thinking that he had done a good deal with

+his voice.

+

+"I don't know that it has been altogether wasted," he replied.

+

+"Carrying off the honors as the singing-girl in a college play isn't

+what I mean."

+

+"Oh, I'm sure it isn't," scoffed the possessor of the voice. "I'd take

+long odds that what you mean involves something that would come under

+the head of work spelled with a capital W--"

+

+"Think of a _man butterfly_!" ejaculated Kathleen, removing her

+cigarette and her drawl for an unwonted verbal explosion. "Edgar, _I_

+should have been the man, and you the girl in our family."

+

+"I should object," he rejoined calmly, all his attention apparently

+concentrated on the compassing of some intricate fingering of the

+guitar strings.

+

+"Think of your rooms at college and this!" went on Kathleen.

+

+"I'd like mighty well to have a squint at the loved and lost to take

+the taste of this out of my mouth," returned the visitor imperturbably.

+

+"How is father?" asked Kathleen, relapsing into her usual manner.

+

+"Smaht," rejoined Edgar.

+

+At the reminder of Brewster's Island, Kathleen's eyes smiled, then grew

+grave. "I can't bear to have you call father the Administration," she

+said.

+

+"Why not?--you didn't want me to call him Governor."

+

+"It sounds so--so disrespectful."

+

+"Not to me. I think it suggests salaams."

+

+"No, Edgar--slams; but I don't want to joke."

+

+"I'm sure of it," interpolated the guitar-playing one.

+

+"Stop that noise a minute, please."

+

+He obeyed.

+

+"I wish you wouldn't speak of father so coldly."

+

+"Then it'll be likely to be hotly, and at that you'd make a fuss,"

+returned the youth doggedly.

+

+"He is a good father," declared the girl, the lingering words coming

+devoutly.

+

+"Yes," retorted Edgar drily. "Perhaps, if your little day-dream could

+come true and you be the son, you wouldn't think so."

+

+"I believe it is father's fault largely," said Kathleen. "He began by

+spoiling you."

+

+"Then, if I'm spoiled, what's the use of kicking?--and if he's done it

+he must pay for it; but that's just what he won't do--pay for it."

+

+The speaker stubbed the light out of his cigarette and tossed it on the

+table. He rose and walked the floor.

+

+"He has put you in his office," said Kathleen. "He will give you every

+chance to rise."

+

+"Yes, and meanwhile pays me a salary smaller than the allowance he gave

+me at college."

+

+"Because," said the girl, "he found that you couldn't even keep within

+that. He knew you must wake up."

+

+"What occasion?" demanded Edgar, standing still to gesture. "I'm the

+only son. Look at the money he has."

+

+"And has worked for; _worked_ for, Edgar. Can't you understand?

+Supposing you had worked like that, and had a son who dipped into the

+bag with both hands and threw your money away."

+

+"I don't want to throw it away. I get one hundred cents' worth of fun

+out of every dollar I spend. What more does he want? I didn't ask to be

+born, did I? I didn't ask to have expensive tastes. Why should I have

+to ride in a taxicab?"

+

+"You don't. There are the street cars."

+

+Edgar's blond face turned upon her angrily. "When do you suppose I want

+a machine? When I'm doddering around with a cane?"

+

+"Earn it, then."

+

+"Yes, I can on a petty few hundreds a year!"

+

+"You drive down with father every morning, don't you?"

+

+"No, I don't. I have to get there before he does."

+

+Kathleen laughed. "What an outrage!"

+

+"I take the car first and then it goes back for him," said Edgar

+sulkily.

+

+"Oh, the cruelty of some parents!" drawled Kathleen, knocking the ash

+from her cigarette. "The idea of Peter going back for father. He should

+stand in Wall Street awaiting your orders."

+

+"No, he shouldn't, but I should have a motor of my own. The Ad. is more

+old-fashioned than any of the other fathers in our set." The speaker

+paused and gestured defensively. "You'll get off all that ancient stuff

+about the new generation wanting to begin where the old left off. Of

+course we do. Why not? I hope my son will begin where I leave off."

+

+Kathleen gave her one-sided smile--her Mona Lisa smile her admirers

+called it:--

+

+"Where you leave off is not liable to be a bed of roses if you keep on

+as you've begun." She looked up at her brother gravely as she tapped

+the end of her cigarette and dropped it in the ash receiver. "Why don't

+you use your brains?" she asked. "Can't you see that the more father

+notices that you have no ambition, the tighter he will draw the rein?"

+

+"I have plenty of ambition."

+

+"For work?"

+

+"Oh, you make me tired!"

+

+The young man resumed his impatient walk.

+

+The sister leaned back in her chair, her dark eyes following him,

+without the hint of a smile.

+

+"I'd like to see you tired," she said seriously.

+

+He turned on her. "Ever see me after a polo game?"

+

+"But life isn't a game, Edgar."

+

+He opened his eyes at her and grimaced scornfully.

+

+"The grave and reverend senior again; nearly ready to graduate, and

+inform the world that

+

+    'Life is real, life is earnest,

+    And the grave is not its goal!'

+

+Might as well be in the grave at once as dig and grind the days away.

+Heaven help us when you get home! I suppose you must go through the

+fine-spun theory stage like the usual attack of measles."

+

+"Measles are catching," remarked Kathleen quietly.

+

+"Exactly! but I'm mighty glad I'm immune from the know-it-all disease."

+

+"That would mean that you'd had it, Edgar, and you never did have it;

+not even a rash. Open the window, please. We're a little blue in here."

+

+Edgar threw open the unoffending window with a force that threatened

+the mechanism.

+

+"No doubt," he said, "you'd like to have me live, like that cowboy, in

+a stable, and get my own meals."

+

+"A garage would suit you better, I suppose," returned Kathleen. "What

+are you talking about?"

+

+"Hasn't mother written you of the genius who has come out of the wild

+and woolly to get his Pegasus curried in New York?"

+

+"Has mother taken up a genius?--Mother, of all people!"

+

+"Why, she's had him at the house, and insists on my being civil to him;

+but I haven't seen him yet. I get enough of him right at the breakfast

+and dinner table without hunting up the stable. His ambition is at the

+bottom of my coffee cup, and his genius for hard work is served as an

+entrée every night."

+

+"Oh,"--Kathleen's face gained a ray of interest,--"you mean that cousin

+of ours."

+

+"He's no cousin," retorted Edgar. "He's one of mother's fifty-seven

+varieties, a sort of step-neighbor-in-law of ours. When father and

+mother were out at the mine they met him. I think it was up to him to

+stay out there and make that mine pay. I think if he'd shown a little

+genius for hard work right there, it would have been more to the point."

+

+"Yes, mother wrote me." Kathleen's tone was tinged with the interest in

+her eyes. "What is his name, now?"

+

+"Sidney," responded Edgar with open disgust. "Oh, I'm authority on

+his name all right,--Philip Sidney; I've had it dinged into my ears

+faithfully."

+

+"A name to live up to," remarked the girl. "It was interesting, Aunt

+Mary leaving him her money."

+

+"It would have been more interesting if she'd had anything to leave."

+

+Edgar had thrown himself back on the divan and was watching curtains

+and smoke draw out the window.

+

+"Do you remember," continued his sister, "what nice cookies Aunt Mary

+used to give us when we were little? Mother felt sorry not to be here

+when she died."

+

+"Oh, mother's ripping," declared Edgar, his cheerfulness

+restored by some inspiriting memory. "She's had a hand-to-hand,

+knock-down-and-drag-out with the old gargoyle that holds the fort over

+there at Aunt Mary's."

+

+"What do you mean?" drawled Kathleen with faint disgust.

+

+"Mother gave a graphic account of the fray at dinner one night. I

+wasn't giving the story my whole attention, but I gathered that she

+and the doughty Eliza each got hold of one end of Aunt Mary's camel's

+hair shawl and had a tug of war; and Eliza's cat won the day for her by

+jumping on mother and nearly clawing her furs off."

+

+"Edgar," protested Kathleen, "your bump of respect is an intaglio!"

+

+"Well, I think I've got it about right. There were diamonds mixed up in

+it too. I believe Eliza wears a diamond tiara at her work so as to keep

+it away from mother; while the parent of the worshipful Philip came in

+for a diamond necklace, and mother was left nothing but cold neglect."

+

+"Absurd!" breathed Kathleen. "Aunt Mary was poor as a church mouse."

+

+"Well, whatever happened, the fur was rising on the back of mother's

+neck, and I didn't know but there would be a silver lining to the cloud

+and she'd cut Philip Sidney; but," with a heavy sigh, "no such luck.

+The cowboy still gallops his Pegasus over my prostrate body every meal."

+

+"What do you mean by a stable?" asked Kathleen.

+

+"Why, Pegasus has to have one, I suppose."

+

+"Is that all? Are you only being witty?"

+

+"Not a bit of it. You know the literal truth is all I'm ever up to.

+The genius has a room over a stable, and an oil stove!"

+

+"Why a stable?"

+

+"Convenient for Pegasus, I suppose," responded Edgar carelessly.

+"Beside, doubtless he would feel out of place in any abode more

+civilized."

+

+"Edgar Fabian, that's nonsense. I remember his mother, when she came

+East years ago, don't you?"

+

+"They're as poor as Job's turkey," said Edgar with a careless shrug.

+"That's why he jumped at Aunt Mary's pittance like a trout at a fly."

+

+"Oh, Edgar, what an object-lesson for you!" Kathleen clasped her hands.

+

+"Oh, of course!" ejaculated Edgar, his even teeth very much clenched.

+

+"You ought to go to see him!"

+

+"So I've heard," with intense sarcasm. "Mother has bored the life out

+of me."

+

+"It isn't civil not to," said Kathleen, relapsing into languor. "He's a

+sort of a relative."

+

+"Yes. The sort to keep away from. If I went up there, it would be to

+take his mahl-stick and smash his face."

+

+"Nice, hospitable plan," remarked Kathleen. "Possibly he wouldn't

+permit it."

+

+"Oh, I've no doubt he'd think it was real mean and pick up a fan and

+slap me on the wrist. Oh, forget him! Say, Kath," as if with sudden

+remembrance, "do you know I came off without my purse to-day?"

+

+The girl's eyes gained a curious expression. She was silent a moment,

+hands clasped around her knee. Under her gaze her brother picked up the

+guitar again and his nervous fingers swept the strings.

+

+"I thought you said this was a business trip."

+

+"It is. Go down and ask them at the bank if I didn't put a bee in their

+bonnet this morning."

+

+"Then the house pays your expenses. Your purse didn't have to suffer."

+

+"Oh, well, if you want the literal truth, I'm flat broke."

+

+"You always are flat broke at this time in the month. Why shouldn't _I_

+be?--as a matter of fact, I am."

+

+Edgar frowned. "What have you been buying?"

+

+"A new microscope. I've saved for it, Edgar."

+

+The girl cast a warm glance across the room to where, on a table, stood

+a tall slender object covered with a cloth.

+

+"Saved for it!" was the disgusted response. "Shameful idea when the Ad.

+could just as well buy you an observatory."

+

+"I don't believe father is nearly as rich as you think he is," said the

+girl defensively.

+

+"He's the prize tight-wad. That's what he is. Look at our summers!

+Isn't it enough that instead of Newport the Fabians rusticate on

+Brewster's Island?"

+

+"He met mother there. He loves it."

+

+"Well, I can tell you, mother would exchange a whole lot of sentiment

+for one good whirl at Newport or some other place where there are live

+ones! Say, Kath, be a good fellow. You can spare a dime or so. Ten

+dollars would be better than nothing. I'll give it back the first of

+the month, honor bright. Think of my having to depend on taxis! It

+would make angels weep."

+

+The sister continued to regard him and he reddened under the pensive

+gaze, and twanged the guitar.

+

+"You never have paid me back the first of the month and I wish you

+wouldn't promise," she said at last; "but I'll tell you what I'll

+do. I'm coming home to spend Sunday and I will give you the ten

+dollars--it's all I have just now--if you will take me to see that

+cousin of ours."

+

+"What cousin?" asked Edgar.

+

+"Aunt Mary's heir. The artist."

+

+"Why are you determined to stuff him down my throat? He is absolutely

+no kin to us and has no demand on us. I decline."

+

+"Then I shall go with mother," declared Kathleen, in her laziest drawl.

+"I'm sure she will take me. I am interested in his determination. I

+want to see--his oil stove. I want to pat Pegasus."

+

+"Go, then, and much good may it do you!" Edgar put down the guitar and

+started up. "Where's the ten, Kath? Awful sorry to bother you."

+

+The girl did not rise. She shook her head.

+

+"You haven't earned it. I've decided you must work for this one, before

+it follows its predecessors to that bourne from which no bank-note

+returneth."

+

+There was an unusual sparkle in the eyes that met the blue ones.

+

+"You said you could go with mother," protested Edgar.

+

+"I can if I have to, but I prefer to hunt up stables with a man."

+

+"Oh, confound it! you always get your own way. Fork over, then. I'll go

+with you; but it just means fastening him right on us. We'll be cousins

+then for sure."

+

+Kathleen went to her closet and reappeared with the ten dollar bill.

+With a gesture of farewell she touched her finger to her lips and

+bestowed the kiss on the bank-note.

+

+Her brother looked at his watch.

+

+"Great Scott! I've got to hike for that train," he said; and wriggling

+into his overcoat he kissed his sister's cheek, and hurried away.

+

+

+

+

+CHAPTER VII

+

+THE FLITTING

+

+

+It was Eliza's last day in the apartment. Out of respect to probable

+scruples on the part of her future hostess as to travelling on Sunday,

+she had planned to sit idle this Sabbath day, although everything was

+packed and she was ready to start.

+

+By Mrs. Wright's advice she had sold nearly all the shabby furnishings

+of the apartment. She had eaten a picnic luncheon in the forlorn

+kitchen, from whence even the gambolling kittens had fled to the bottom

+of Eliza's trunk, and now sat on a camp-chair in the middle of the

+empty parlor, as solitary as Alexander Selkirk on his island, monarch

+of all she surveyed, which was a pair of green eyes glowering at her

+from behind the wire network in the side of a wicker basket, which

+reposed on the only other chair in the room.

+

+Stern and inexorable looked Eliza sitting in state on the camp-chair,

+and furious glared the jewel eyes back at her.

+

+"You've got to get used to it, Pluto," she said. "Do you suppose I like

+it any better than you do? I don't know as you're so bad off either. I

+think I'd like to be put in a bag and carried to Brewster's Island with

+no care of cars or boats or anything else. You always do get the best

+of it."

+

+Eliza looked very haggard. It had been a wrenching week, packing her

+dear one's belongings, and selling into careless, grudging hands the

+old furniture with its tender associations.

+

+Philip had been too busy to come to her aid. They had exchanged notes.

+She had addressed him at the Fabians', and he had replied that he had

+taken a room, and asked that his belongings be stacked up somewhere. He

+promised that he would come for them early Sunday afternoon.

+

+So now she was waiting, her capable hands folded in her black alpaca

+lap, and her face expressing endurance.

+

+"I'm countin' the hours, Pluto," she declared. "This place is misery

+to me now. I feel just as much in a strange garret as you do in that

+basket. I just wish Mr. Sidney'd come and take his things and then

+there won't be much more daylight to look around here in. And I hope

+you won't act like all possessed when we start for the train nor when

+we get on it."

+

+"Meow!" cried Pluto, exasperated.

+

+"There now!" exclaimed Eliza, in trepidation--"you do that just once

+when the train's standin' still, and where'll we be! I've always

+thought you had a little more intelligence than the law allows; and if

+you go to actin' like an alley cat you'll disappoint me dreadfully!"

+

+Eliza rose anxiously and threw herself on her knees beside the basket

+and opened it. Pluto sprang out, and she caught him and pressed her

+thin cheek against his fur in a rare caress. Her eyes stung in her

+effort to repress tears.

+

+"Oh, law! I'm sick o' myself," she muttered. "Cryin'! cryin'! gracious,

+what a fool! I'd ought to sold you to somebody, I suppose,"--she clung

+tighter to the handsome creature and buried her eyes in his glossy

+coat,--"or given you away, more likely. Who'd want to pay anything for

+a cat that don't know how bothersome it's goin' to be to get the right

+train, and hasn't the decency to keep his mouth shut, and--Oh!" as a

+knock sounded on the door. "There he is now."

+

+The glow of Eliza's one interview with Mrs. Ballard's heir had faded

+long ago. The sordid and wounding events of the week had eclipsed

+whatever cheer he had brought her, and it was only as one of the events

+of her flitting that she looked forward to his advent this afternoon,

+and the departure of the last and most intimate of her dear one's

+possessions.

+

+The knock on the door preceded its immediate opening.

+

+"May I come in?"

+

+The long step took the little hall in three strides.

+

+The sight that met the newcomer's eyes was the bare room, with Eliza

+kneeling in front of an open basket, clasping Pluto to her breast. The

+woman's face and posture were dramatic.

+

+"Deserted!" was the word that rose to Phil's lips, but he repressed it.

+He would not twit on facts; but his all-observing eyes shone.

+

+"I'm always wanting to paint you, Eliza," he said. "Sometime I will,

+too."

+

+"Me!" returned Eliza drearily. "You'll be hard up when you take me."

+

+"So far as that goes, I'm hard up now. That's chronic," responded Phil

+cheerfully. "What are you doing--not taking leave of that king among

+cats? If you're leaving him behind, I speak for him."

+

+"H'm!" exclaimed Eliza, loosening her clasp of her pet and rising.

+"You'd made a bad bargain if you took Pluto." She removed the basket

+from its chair. "Sit down, Mr. Sidney," she said wearily, resuming her

+own seat. "It's too forlorn for you to stay, but maybe you'd like to

+ketch your breath before you take the things."

+

+Philip picked up the basket and looked curiously at its wire window.

+

+"Yes," continued Eliza. "I'm taking Pluto, so I had to have that. It

+was an extravagance, and he ain't worth it. I despise to see folks

+cartin' cats and dogs around. I didn't think I'd ever come to it; but

+somehow I'm--used to that selfish critter, and he's--he's all the folks

+I've got. It never once came to me that you'd take him."

+

+"Indeed I would," replied Phil; "and wait till you see the place I have

+for him. Rats and mice while you wait, I suppose, though I haven't seen

+any yet."

+

+"Oh, well," returned Eliza hastily, her eyes following Pluto as he

+rubbed himself against Phil's leg. "I've got the basket now. I guess

+I'll have to use it."

+

+"It's a shame I haven't been here to help you," said Phil. "You've had

+a hard week, I know, but I've had a busy one."

+

+"You've got a room, you say," said Eliza listlessly. "Rats and mice.

+That don't sound very good."

+

+Phil smiled. "I don't know,--as I say, I haven't seen them yet; but

+Pluto would be a fine guard to keep them off my blankets. I don't

+believe, though, there's been any grain in there for a good while."

+

+"Grain!" repeated Eliza.

+

+Phil laughed. "I'll tell you about it later; but first, may I have the

+things? I have an expressman down at the door. I rode over here with

+him in state. Good thing I didn't meet Mrs. Fabian."

+

+Eliza's thin lip curled as she rose. She led Philip to a room, in the

+middle of which was gathered a heterogeneous collection of articles.

+"In this box is the paintin' things," she said, touching a wooden case.

+"In this barrel is some dishes. I couldn't get anything for 'em anyway,

+and you wrote you was going to get your own breakfasts."

+

+"Capital," put in Phil; "and here's a bedstead."

+

+"Yes, and the spring and mattress," returned Eliza. "It's Mrs.

+Ballard's bed. I couldn't sell it."

+

+Philip regarded the disconnected pieces dubiously--"I guess I'd have to

+be amputated at the knees to use that."

+

+"Well,"--Eliza shook her head quickly. "Take it anyway, and do what

+you've a mind to with it, only don't tell me. The beddin''s in the

+barrel with the dishes--you said you'd be glad of a chair, so here's

+one, and the two in the parlor are for you. You can take 'em right

+along. I haven't got very long to wait anyway. I calc'late to go to the

+station early."

+

+Phil touched her shoulder with his hand.

+

+"I'll see that you get to the station early enough."

+

+"You mustn't think o' me," said Eliza, as Phil picked up some of the

+furniture and started for the stairs.

+

+When he returned for the next load he brought the expressman with him.

+Together they took the last of the articles down the stairway.

+

+Eliza stood at the top and watched the final descent.

+

+"Good-bye Mr. Sidney," she said.

+

+He smiled brightly up at her across a couple of chairs, and the easel.

+

+"Good-bye for five minutes."

+

+"No, no," said Eliza; "don't you come back." She winked violently

+toward the receding cap of the expressman. "You'd better ride right

+over with the things just the way you came."

+

+"All right," responded Phil laughing. "_Bon voyage!_"

+

+"Hey?" asked Eliza.

+

+"Have a good trip. My respects to Pluto."

+

+She went back into the apartment and closed the door. It seemed

+emptier, stiller than ever after the little flurry of moving.

+

+"It was clever of him," she thought gratefully, "not to let the other

+man handle the easel."

+

+Now, indeed, desolation settled upon Eliza Brewster. Pluto's short tail

+stiffened in the majestic disapproval with which he walked about the

+room in search of an oasis of comfort.

+

+Eliza heard his protesting meows. She stood still at the window looking

+out on the grey November sky. "I haven't got a chair to sit down on,

+Pluto," she said. "It's got past cryin'!"

+

+She took out the gold-faced watch that was ticking against her thin

+bosom. Two hours yet before there would be any reason in going to the

+station. Suddenly it occurred to her that she had placed flannel in

+the bottom of the cat's travelling-basket. This would be the golden

+opportunity to endear the spot to his forlorn feline heart.

+

+She tucked the watch back in its hiding-place. "Here, kitty, kitty,

+kitty!" she cried.

+

+No response. The receding meows had ceased. She looked perplexed; then

+an illuminating thought occurred to her. Tables there were none, but

+the square top of the kitchen range remained. On this she had spread

+clean papers and upon them had laid her coat and hat, and the shabby

+boa and muff of black astrachan which had belonged to her dear one.

+

+She hastened down the hall. Her intuition had not failed. Upon this

+bed, his glossy coat revealing the rustiness of the garments, lay Pluto

+curled up, regardless of vicissitudes.

+

+Eliza had scarcely swept him off his bed when the outer door of the

+apartment opened again, and closed.

+

+"There," called a cheerful voice; "that's finished. Business before

+pleasure."

+

+Eliza hastened out into the hall. "You, Mr. Sidney?" she exclaimed in

+surprise. "Why, you haven't had time to get over there. Is your room

+so near?"

+

+"Oh, no. We've been making the wagon artistically safe, so as not to

+smash any of Aunt Mary's valuables." The speaker, strong and breezy,

+smiled reassuringly into Eliza's anxious face.

+

+"You'd ought to gone with him," she said. "Do you suppose the folks'll

+let him in all right."

+

+"There aren't any folks but English sparrows," returned Phil. "I don't

+think they'll object."

+

+"What are you sayin'?" demanded Eliza. "If there's a house in this

+city where there ain't any folks, I didn't know it. It's queer, ain't

+it, Mr. Sidney, that it's folks make loneliness. Now, this buildin''s

+running over with _folks_, but there ain't an apartment where I could

+go in and say good-bye. They're always movin' in and movin' out like

+ants, and it makes it worse than if there was nobody. It was clever of

+you to come back, but don't you stay, 'cause there ain't any place to

+sit but the floor, and I'm going in just a few minutes to leave the key

+where I promised the agent I would, and then on to the station."

+

+"When does your train go?" asked Phil.

+

+"I ain't just certain," replied Eliza evasively. "I'll get there in

+good season."

+

+"I'm sure you will." Phil's eyes looked very kind. "How did you happen

+to take a night train?"

+

+"Well, I didn't know as Mrs. Wright would want me to travel on Sunday."

+

+"Isn't it Sunday in the afternoon?"

+

+"Not after six o'clock," replied Eliza hastily. "We could play dominoes

+after six o'clock when I was a youngster."

+

+"Aha," said Phil. "Then that train doesn't go till after six. It isn't

+yet three."

+

+"Now, Mr. Sidney,"--Eliza was frowning at her own blunder,--"I wish

+you wouldn't trouble yourself. The station's nice and warm. I expect

+Pluto'll act like all possessed, but I didn't calc'late to have any

+comfort with him. I'd been practisin' with him in the basket before you

+came to-day."

+

+Eliza's careworn brow went to her visitor's heart.

+

+"Where are you to leave the key? I'll take it for you."

+

+"Oh, you needn't. It's the janitor, right here in the buildin'."

+

+"Then it's all clear sailing," said Phil. "Get on your things, Eliza."

+

+"It's a little early," she demurred. "If it wasn't for Pluto I wouldn't

+care; but you go along, Mr. Sidney, and don't think anything more about

+us. You ought to go and see that those goods get in all right."

+

+"We'll be there to meet them. Do you suppose I would let you leave New

+York without seeing where I'm going to live? And do you suppose I'd let

+you out of my sight anyway till I put you on the train?"

+

+"Dear me!" returned Eliza, fluttered, but feeling as if the sun had

+suddenly peeped through the November clouds. "I never thought--" she

+stopped undecidedly.

+

+"Well, I did," said Phil heartily. "It's a shame that I haven't helped

+you any this hard week. Where's Pluto?"

+

+"He may be back on the stove again," returned Eliza. "I don't dare take

+my eyes off him." She moved quickly toward the kitchen, and there on

+her habiliments lay the cat; but at sight of her he leaped guiltily to

+the floor.

+

+Phil, following, laughed. "Well, things have come to a pretty pass

+when you have to hang your coat up on the stove." He looked about

+the spotless place. "I wonder if this apartment will ever be so clean

+again."

+

+"Oh, I'm clean," admitted Eliza. "Mr. Sidney,"--she paused again, her

+coat in her hand, and faced him,--"you don't want to go traipsing

+through the streets o' New York with an old woman and a cat!"

+

+"That's where you're wrong," returned Phil. "You're the only girl I

+have in town. It's highly proper that we should go walking of a Sunday

+afternoon. You get on your things, and I'll wrestle with Pluto."

+

+The cat, suspecting that whatever plan was afoot was not entirely

+according to his taste, led Phil a short chase; but all the havens

+which usually harbored his periods of rebellion having disappeared,

+he was soon captured, and when Eliza, hatted and coated, entered the

+living-room, Phil had laid the cat on the flannel in the bottom of the

+basket, and was keeping him there by reassuring caresses.

+

+"Ain't he just as kind as he can be!" thought Eliza.

+

+"Ready?" asked Phil, and closed the basket. He met Pluto's gaze through

+the window.

+

+"It's all right, old chap," he laughed.

+

+He was not unmindful of the advantage of this diversion of Eliza's

+mind, in leaving the apartment forever. He had a green memory of her

+stormy emotion. He tried to take the key from her now as they stepped

+outside.

+

+"No," she said briefly, "I'll close this chapter myself," and she

+locked the door.

+

+Philip balanced the basket ostentatiously. "Believe me," said he,

+"Pluto is some cat! How did you expect to get on with him alone?"

+

+"I calc'lated to get a boy," replied Eliza in an unsteady voice.

+Memories were crowding her.

+

+"Well, you have one," returned Phil, leading the way downstairs.

+

+"But I'm strong, too. You've heard about the woman that carried the

+calf uphill every day till it was a cow? I've had Pluto ever since his

+eyes was open."

+

+"Well, you'd need some hill-climbing with him to fit you for taking the

+elevated."

+

+"Yes, I did some dread those steps. It's certainly clever of you, Mr.

+Sidney. They say the lame and the lazy are always provided for."

+

+Thus Eliza Brewster left her home of years. She gave the key to the

+janitor and went out into the dull, damp November afternoon with her

+strong escort, whose good cheer again impressed her consciousness as a

+wonderful thing to have any relation to her own life.

+

+"You've learned your way around real quick," said Eliza as they plunged

+into the nearest subway station.

+

+"This is all bluff, Eliza, and you're the most trustful woman in the

+world. I want to go somewhere near Gramercy Park; but if we come out at

+Harlem I shall try to look as if I lived there."

+

+"Gramercy Park!" exclaimed Eliza; and she thought--"Well, at that rate,

+Mrs. Ballard's money won't last long."

+

+"I didn't know," she said aloud, "as you'd feel like gettin' a room in

+a real fashionable neighborhood."

+

+"I'll bet," she thought acutely, "that's Mrs. Fabian's doin's."

+

+The subway train came crashing in, and Pluto crouched in his basket.

+

+Eliza's suspicions and anxieties increased as, after leaving the

+subway, their journey continued; and when they finally came into a

+region of old and aristocratic dwellings, her eyes were round and she

+could no longer keep silent. It was an outrage, an imposition, to have

+influenced the young art-student to commit himself to a home in these

+surroundings.

+

+"I'd 'a' been a whole lot better person to 'a' helped you find a

+place than Mrs. Fabian," she said, more and more impressed with the

+incongruity of the situation. To be sure, Phil looked like a prince and

+fit for any environment; but not while trudging along with a shabby,

+grey-haired woman, and carrying a cat-basket.

+

+"I know, I know, Eliza," he returned, with gay recognition of her

+perturbation and disapproval. "I'm sorry sometimes that elegance and

+luxury are necessary to me. It's the penalty of blue blood. Mrs. Fabian

+had nothing to do with this; but I had to find my level, Eliza. Blood

+will tell."

+

+"You said rats and mice," she returned mechanically. "Are you sure

+you've got the right street?"

+

+"Sure as a homing pigeon;--by the way, I might keep pigeons! I never

+thought of it."

+

+"For the rats?" inquired Eliza with some asperity.

+

+She had always heard that geniuses were erratic. Also that without

+exception they were ignorant of the value of money. Poor Mrs. Ballard!

+What a small space of time it would take for her little capital to be

+licked up as by a fierce heat.

+

+"This way," cried her escort, and swung Pluto's basket triumphantly as

+he turned abruptly into an alley.

+

+Eliza caught her breath in the midst of her resentment. "You do go in

+the back way, then."

+

+"Not a bit of it!" retorted Phil. "My proud spirit couldn't brook

+anything like that." He caught Eliza's arm and hurried her pace. "We go

+in the front way, please take notice!"

+

+

+

+

+CHAPTER VIII

+

+AN INTERRUPTED TEA

+

+

+More bewildered every moment, Eliza hurried along, obediently, and in a

+minute more found herself in a paved yard on which faced a stable built

+of stone similar to the fine house backing upon it.

+

+Phil threw open a side door and disclosed the round, good-natured face

+of a man, leaning back in a ragged Morris chair, his feet on a deal

+table.

+

+"Hello, Pat. I've brought my best girl to show her my room."

+

+The Irishman sprang to his feet, and grinned politely.

+

+"They have old girls in New York," remarked Eliza drily.

+

+"Whativer age ye are, mum," said Pat gallantly, "ye don't look it."

+

+They passed him and ascended a narrow stair. "This is cement, Mr.

+Sidney," said Eliza, "and probably no mice."

+

+"That settles it, Pluto," remarked Phil. "You for the island."

+

+He ushered his companion into a room, empty but for a deal table and

+chair, an oil stove with a saucepan on it, and a couple of piles of

+Indian blankets, two of which were spread on the floor in place of

+rugs. One end of the table was piled with sketches.

+

+"Well!" exclaimed Eliza. "Why did you--"

+

+"Because," interrupted Phil laconically, and pointed to a double window

+facing north.

+

+"Take off your things, Eliza," he added joyously, beginning to unbutton

+her coat.

+

+"There were no horses that I saw," said the bewildered visitor.

+

+"Family in Europe," returned Phil.

+

+"But it's warm and comfortable."

+

+"Have to keep fires on account of the plumbing. The coachman was a

+family man before master and mistress departed, and they kept house in

+two rooms up here. I have succeeded to Mrs. Maloney's kitchen. Behold

+the running water. The other room is used for storage. Being single,

+Pat got the job of caretaker and sleeps downstairs. Can you suggest an

+improvement?"

+

+If Eliza had thought Phil handsome before, she stared now at the

+illumination of his triumphant face as his eyes questioned her.

+

+She smiled, and there was a protesting scramble in the basket.

+

+"Come out, Katze, of course," said the host, and, stooping, released

+the prisoner.

+

+Pluto leaped forth and made a tour of the room, smelling daintily of

+the blankets.

+

+"Of course, when I get Aunt Mary's things, you know," continued Phil.

+

+"I wish they'd come," said Eliza, dazed and smiling. "I'd like to see

+how they're goin' to look."

+

+"They'll be here before you leave. Now, take the Turkish armchair, Miss

+Brewster, and loll back while I talk to you; and pretty soon we'll have

+some tea."

+

+As he spoke the host doubled a striped blanket over the kitchen chair

+and deposited Eliza. She felt dumb in the change from dismal loneliness

+to this atmosphere charged with vitality.

+

+Phil threw himself on the blanket at her feet, and leaning on one elbow

+looked up into the eyes which wandered about the plastered room.

+

+"Made to order, Eliza, made to order," he assured her. "No one but Mrs.

+Fabian knows where I am, and she's not likely to interrupt me."

+

+"Stables ain't just in her line," said Eliza. "I was afraid, comin' up

+the street, that she had led you into extravagance."

+

+"Oh, she is very kind," laughed Phil. "She was appalled when I told her

+what I had found, and seemed to think my oil stove the most pathetic

+thing in the world."

+

+"Yes," remarked Eliza. "Her son Edgar'd find some trouble livin' this

+way."

+

+"I haven't met him yet."

+

+"Nor Miss Kathleen?"

+

+"No, she's at school, you know. Mrs. Fabian has been very good to me.

+No one could be kinder, and I'm afraid I've been a rather absent-minded

+guest, but getting started has been so glorious. Eliza, I'm the most

+fortunate fellow in the world. Just think! Even no paper on these

+walls!"

+

+Eliza looked with disfavor at the rough greyish plaster.

+

+"'Twould be more cheerful with some real pretty pattern," she said.

+

+Phil laughed and caught Pluto by the back of the neck as he was

+passing, and lifted him over into the hollow of his arm.

+

+"I like it this way," he explained.

+

+Eliza looked down at him admiringly. "I wish Mrs. Ballard could see

+you now," she said.

+

+"I wish she knew what she has done for me. It seems as if this is the

+first time since my childhood that I have known peace."

+

+At the word there came a sound of voices from below.

+

+"The expressman!" exclaimed Phil, and springing to his feet opened the

+door.

+

+"Sure; go right up," they heard in Pat's rich brogue.

+

+"I'd better help him," said Phil, and went to the head of the stair.

+

+What met his astonished gaze was a large black velvet hat ascending.

+It was willowy with drooping feathers, and in the dimness of the

+narrow stair it eclipsed the motive power which was lifting it. In his

+amazement Philip stepped back and presently met a slender face whose

+dark eyes were lifted to his.

+

+"We're taking you by storm, Mr. Sidney," said a low, slow voice. "I

+hope it's not inconvenient."

+

+Edgar followed close behind. "I tried to send your man up ahead," he

+said stridently, "but he seemed to think this sort of thing was all

+right."

+

+Philip stood back a pace further in actual bewilderment, and Kathleen

+Fabian extended her delicately gloved hand.

+

+"We're the Fabians," she said, examining her host with quick

+appraisement, and her smile was alluring.

+

+"Oh!" exclaimed Phil, recovering himself and taking the hand. "Very

+kind of you, I'm sure."

+

+"If you think you're easy to find," said Edgar as they greeted, "you're

+much mistaken. Mother got it all wrong, as usual."

+

+Philip took in at a glance the dapper form of his visitor. He had not

+been insensible of Edgar's neglect of him in the young man's own home;

+and had decided that Eastern and Western ideas of hospitality must

+differ with more than the width of a continent.

+

+"Very good of you, I'm sure, to stick to it," he returned composedly.

+"Come into my suite and overlook its shortcomings if you can."

+

+Eliza had risen, startled.

+

+"I suppose you both know Eliza Brewster," continued Phil. "She made

+life comfortable for Aunt Mary so many years."

+

+Edgar Fabian jerked his blond head in Eliza's direction. "How do," he

+said; but the host's tone and manner constrained Kathleen to approach

+the grey-haired woman, and again hold out the delicate hand.

+

+"Was it you who made those good cookies Aunt Mary used to give us?" she

+asked slowly, looking curiously at Phil's guest.

+

+Eliza allowed the white glove to take her bony fingers a moment, then

+she stepped behind the solitary chair and set it forward for the

+visitor.

+

+The girl would have accepted it, but Phil interposed.

+

+"Sit down, Eliza," he said good-humoredly. "Miss Fabian can get chairs

+at home. I am going to treat her with truly Oriental magnificence. Try

+this, Miss Fabian." The host indicated a pile of Indian blankets, and

+Kathleen sank upon them.

+

+Then Phil turned to Edgar, who reached to the host's ear as he stood in

+high-chested superiority looking about the apartment with disfavor.

+

+"The choice of soft spots is small," said Phil, "but help yourself.

+There's room beside your sister here."

+

+Edgar moved to the pile of blankets and sat down; while Phil dropped,

+Turkish fashion, at Eliza's feet and faced them.

+

+"What a splendid cat!" said Kathleen.

+

+"Yes," agreed Phil. "Come here, Katze, and see the lady." He seized

+Pluto and handed him over to Kathleen."

+

+"Oh, get out," said Edgar. "I hate cats."

+

+His sister moved Pluto over to her other side where he drove his claws

+into the blanket with satisfaction while she caressed him.

+

+"He'll soil your glove," said Eliza; "his hair comes out some." She

+resented the Fabian touch on her pet, and Edgar's remark had sent color

+to her sallow cheeks.

+

+"I'd like a muff made of him," drawled Kathleen.

+

+"Too late," said Phil. "He's going to Maine to-night with Eliza."

+

+"He isn't your cat, then?" said the girl, and brushed her glove.

+

+"No, Eliza refuses to give him to me."

+

+"There's that oil stove," remarked Edgar. "I don't know what there is

+so particularly virtuous about an oil stove; but mother throws yours at

+me every time we have an argument."

+

+Philip regarded the speaker speculatively. Edgar's voice had an

+arrogant quality, which gave no idea of its beauty when he broke into

+song. "I'd give you a glimpse of its virtues if the expressman would

+come," replied the host. He smiled up at Eliza while Kathleen watched

+him. "Did you put in cups enough for all of us?"

+

+"Six cups and saucers," returned Eliza, "and six plates, and six knives

+and forks, and six spoons. I gave you the plated ones 'cause then you

+wouldn't care if they were stolen."

+

+"But I should care," returned Phil gravely. "I shall search every

+departing guest."

+

+"Indian blankets," said Edgar. "They suggest the pipe of peace. Let's

+make it a cigarette." He took out his case.

+

+"Only one room here," remarked Phil. "Perhaps the ladies object."

+

+Edgar grinned at his sister. "Do you object to a cigarette, Kath?" he

+asked, offering her the open case.

+

+"Perhaps Mr. Sidney is not a smoker," she said, "and it would be

+unsociable."

+

+The same curiosity which had grown in Phil's eyes as he regarded young

+Fabian, now stole into them as they met Kathleen's.

+

+"I'm almost sure Eliza doesn't indulge," said the host, "and perhaps

+she doesn't like it."

+

+"Don't think of me, Mr. Philip," exclaimed Eliza hastily. "This is your

+house."

+

+"My stable, you mean." He smiled. "No, it's yours this afternoon,

+Eliza. You're to give orders."

+

+"Then you may smoke to your hearts' content," she responded promptly;

+and she sent an inimical look toward the graceful girl in the drooping

+hat. Let her smoke! Eliza hoped she would, and let Philip Sidney see

+what the Fabians were.

+

+"Remove my sister's scruples, won't you, Sidney?" said Edgar, offering

+his case.

+

+Phil took a cigarette, and Edgar passed them back to Kathleen.

+

+"No, thanks," she replied. She had seen the cool curiosity in the

+host's eyes as they rested upon her a moment ago.

+

+"Oh, go ahead," urged Edgar.

+

+"I don't like your cigarettes," she returned shortly, annoyed by his

+persistence. A deep color grew in her cheeks.

+

+"Wait till you know Kath better," said Edgar with a wink toward Philip.

+"You'll welcome any little human touches about her. She's at the most

+painful stage of her college career where she knows everything; and

+she's one of these high-brows; saves money--good money--and buys

+microscopes with it!" The utter scorn of the speaker's tone, as he

+offered Phil a light, caused the latter to smile.

+

+"What are you doing with a microscope, Miss Fabian?" he asked.

+

+"Hunting for an honest man," she returned in her lingering speech.

+

+"Stung!" remarked her brother. "Say, I don't see any symptoms of

+painting up here," he added, looking around.

+

+"No; you'll have to come down to the academy to see the works of art

+I'm throwing off," said Phil. "I've been there two days."

+

+Now there was another stir belowstairs and this time it really was the

+expressman; and Philip's effects began to come upstairs.

+

+"I'm afraid we're dreadfully in the way," said Kathleen; while Edgar

+held his cigarette between two fingers and moved about, watching the

+invasion of barrels, boxes, and bedstead, uncertain whether to lend a

+hand. "Aunt Mary's old duds, as I'm alive!" he thought, seeing Eliza's

+anxious supervision of each piece as Phil came carrying it in.

+

+"A great way to entertain you, Miss Fabian," said the host brightly.

+

+"What can I do?" inquired Edgar perfunctorily, continuing to get in

+Phil's way with the assiduity of a second Marcelline.

+

+"If you won't mind being put on the shelf for a minute," said Phil,

+tired of avoiding him, "I'm going to tote in one more and then we're

+done." And picking up the astonished Edgar he set him on a barrel

+which had been placed in a corner, and so succeeded in bringing in the

+heaviest of the boxes undisturbed.

+

+Edgar, very red in the face, swung his patent leather feet for a minute

+and then jumped down. "We must be going, Kath," he said stiffly.

+

+"Not till you've found the mahl-stick," she drawled, with stars in her

+eyes. "My brother is so curious about your painting implements, Mr.

+Sidney."

+

+"They're in these boxes," responded Phil. "The very ones that dear

+little Aunt Mary used."

+

+He had paid the expressman and was pulling down his cuffs. His guests

+were both standing.

+

+"Personally," he continued, "I think the contents of the barrel more

+interesting just now. You mustn't go without a cup of tea. One moment

+and I'll make a raid on Pat for a hammer."

+

+Phil left the room and Edgar still stood, quite flushed under his

+sister's smile.

+

+"Do you want any tea?" he asked severely.

+

+"I think I do," replied Kathleen.

+

+"I'll send the car back for you, then."

+

+"Not at all," she answered; and when the girl's voice took this tone

+and her eyes narrowed, her brother usually paid attention. After all,

+Kathleen was a useful court of last appeal. It was unwise to offend her.

+

+"What's the matter? Eliza can chaperone you," he protested.

+

+Simultaneously with Phil's disappearance Eliza had moved to the window

+and looked out on the advancing twilight. She heard the words, and her

+thin lips tightened.

+

+"That's the very cat that assaulted and battered mother," went on

+Edgar, and although he lowered his voice Eliza heard the words and

+smiled grimly at a neighboring stable.

+

+Kathleen frowned and motioned with her head toward the black alpaca

+back.

+

+Edgar shrugged his immaculate shoulders.

+

+"Well, tell me when you have had enough of it," he said, and threw

+himself back on the pile of blankets.

+

+Kathleen was just planning some civil overture to Eliza when the host

+reappeared, a hatchet in his hand.

+

+"That bold son of Erin dares to imply that I borrowed his hammer

+yesterday," he announced. "If I did, it is in Mrs. Maloney's closet;

+and if there it is as a needle in a haystack; for that closet, Miss

+Fabian, is responsible for the air of chaste elegance you observe in

+this apartment. If you'll all stand aside, not to be bombarded when I

+open the door, I will give one glimpse within."

+

+Phil opened the closet door cautiously, and deftly caught a mandolin as

+it bounded forth.

+

+"Sole relic of glee-club days," he remarked. "I don't know why I

+brought it, for I couldn't play 'Yankee Doodle' on it now."

+

+He delved further into the closet, and Edgar, picking up the mandolin

+as one friend in a strange land, removed it from its case with slow and

+condescending touch.

+

+"Here's the hammer on the sink," said Eliza suddenly.

+

+"Saved!" exclaimed Phil, pushing back billowing folds of grey. "I was

+just about losing in a combat with a bath-wrapper. Now, with these

+chairs and the hammer, what is to prevent our salon from being the most

+delightful success?"

+

+"Nothing!" exclaimed Kathleen, standing at the end of the table. "I

+have found some sketches, Mr. Sidney. May I look at them?"

+

+"Certainly." The artist took the hammer and began an attack on the

+barrel which caused Edgar to raise his eyebrows in annoyance. He was

+testing the strings of the mandolin.

+

+"Shall I light the stove?" asked Eliza.

+

+"No, you're the guest of honor. Sit down, Eliza, and watch us. Mr.

+Fabian will light the stove."

+

+"Heaven forbid," exclaimed Edgar devoutly, "that I should touch the

+enemy of my peace!"

+

+Kathleen, her lip caught between her teeth as she turned the sketches

+with concentrated interest, sent an ironical glance toward her brother,

+strumming the mandolin on the blanket couch.

+

+"Yes, you're elected, Fabian," said Phil, deftly removing the

+barrel-hoop. "You have the matches. You see the peace and calm on my

+brow? That is because I am serene in the knowledge of a lemon and a bag

+of sugar outside on the window ledge."

+

+Reluctantly Edgar laid down the mandolin and approached the stove.

+

+"What do you do?" he asked superciliously. "Turn on something at the

+bottom, and light it at the top?"

+

+"Edgar," warned his sister, "it isn't gas."

+

+"Marrow-bones, Fabian, get down on them," said Phil good-humoredly; and

+disgustedly Edgar knelt to his _bête noir_.

+

+Eliza's fingers itched to help him. She obeyed Phil's warning gestures

+to keep her seat until the match was finally applied to the wicks.

+Then, seeing that they were turned too high, she pounced down on the

+floor beside the young man, and pushing his immaculate arm away she

+lowered the wicks.

+

+Edgar stared at the familiarity. "Excuse me," she said shortly.

+

+"Must have a finger in the pie, eh?" remarked Phil.

+

+"Do you know how long it'd take to get this room so full o' soot we

+couldn't stay in it?" asked Eliza. "I wonder what sort of a mess you're

+goin' to live in here, Mr. Sidney, if you don't know that?"

+

+"It's a smokeless one," protested Phil meekly.

+

+"The cat's foot!" quoth Eliza scornfully. "Don't tell me! There's no

+such thing." She partly filled the kettle and placed it on the stove,

+watching the wicks with a jealous eye.

+

+Edgar removed himself from danger and looked with exasperation at

+Kathleen, who with eyes aglow was turning the sketches.

+

+"If I ever worked as hard for tea as this I'll be hung!" he thought,

+and returned to the mandolin as the one congenial object in a forlorn

+abode.

+

+Even its long silent strings spoke plaintively against the vulgar

+banging which was removing the barrel-head.

+

+"There!" exclaimed Phil presently. "I rather fancy the way I did that.

+I can use that barrel again."

+

+"Yes," assented Edgar as he strummed, "for kindlings for the oil-stove."

+

+Phil drew the barrel nearer the table.

+

+"Now for the plums in the pudding," he said, and began to draw forth

+some papered cups from the excelsior.

+

+Kathleen dropped the sketches and unwrapped the packages. She had stood

+three cups and saucers on the table before Eliza turned from her labors

+about the stove.

+

+"What delightful old things!" exclaimed the girl.

+

+"Now, aren't you glad you stayed?" asked Phil, bringing forth a silver

+cream pitcher of long ago.

+

+Eliza caught sight of the table, and suddenly threw up both hands with

+an exclamation.

+

+"Mr. Sidney!" she cried. "I've given you the wrong barrel!"

+

+"What? What's happened?" inquired Phil, halted by her tragic tone.

+

+"All Mrs. Ballard's best things are in that barrel; the old china that

+was her mother's, and the solid silver, and everything; and I've gone

+and sent yours with the substantial crockery and the beddin' to the

+island!"

+

+Edgar Fabian regarded Eliza as inimically as his stepmother might have

+done. So this old servant had been carrying off the heirlooms and been

+discovered.

+

+He sat up very straight on his blanket couch.

+

+"I'll speak to my mother," he said. "She can come over to-morrow and

+get them, and buy the right sort of thing for a bachelor"--he threw a

+glance around the plastered room--"apartment!"

+

+Phil, not realizing the sensitiveness of the subject, laughed.

+

+"Good work, Eliza! We'll have one aristocratic tea in the Sidney

+studio, before we fall to stone china and mugs."

+

+"The others ain't stone china and mugs," cried Eliza. She was trembling

+from head to foot, as frightened and enraged by Edgar's suggestion

+as if her own life had been at stake. "They're all good, comfortable

+things. If it was safe I'd leave all these for you, Mr. Philip, just as

+liefs to as not, for she loved you; but you are gone all day; they'd be

+stole--just as Mr. Fabian says."

+

+Edgar blinked, then his face grew scarlet as the servant's implication

+grew upon him.

+

+"What do you mean--you--!"

+

+He leaped to his feet and faced Eliza, who glared back at him. "These

+things should belong to my mother," he said, "and it's a good thing you

+didn't succeed in getting away with them. She may set some value on the

+old stuff. I don't know."

+

+"Edgar!" exclaimed Kathleen, as scarlet as he, while the duel had all

+happened so suddenly that the host stared, dazed.

+

+He had just lifted another silver piece from the barrel and taken it

+from its flannel bag.

+

+"They do not belong to your mother," returned Eliza angrily. "They

+belong to me, to have and to hold, or to give away as I see fit."

+

+Edgar shrugged. "Oh, in that case--" he returned. He didn't like

+Eliza's eyes.

+

+"In that case," said Phil to him gravely, "I think you'll feel better

+to apologize to the woman who has put Aunt Mary's relatives under

+lifelong obligation for her devoted care."

+

+Edgar tossed his head with a scornful grimace.

+

+"Yes, I understand perfectly," went on Phil, coloring; "Aunt Mary was

+no kin to you, and I understand that she was a person held in little

+consideration by your family." The host's attitude was tense now, and

+his look compelling. "Nevertheless, Eliza Brewster happens to be my

+honored guest to-day, and I'm sure you will be glad to express your

+regret for your choice of words."

+

+"Edgar, you didn't understand," said Kathleen. "Say so. Why, of course,

+you're glad to say so."

+

+"No, I didn't understand," remarked Edgar with a languid air, strumming

+the mandolin, "and now that I do, I don't know that it is very

+interesting."

+

+Phil saw Kathleen's acute distress.

+

+"Very sorry, I'm sure," continued the young man, nodding toward Eliza.

+"You can run away with your barrel and welcome. The Fabians will

+still have cups and saucers. I think," returning Phil's grave gaze

+contemptuously, "if your honored guest should apologize for her attack

+on my mother, it would be quite as much to the point. You heard her

+say that mother would come over and steal her trash, didn't you? Come,

+Kathleen." The speaker dropped the mandolin, squared his shoulders, and

+started for the door.

+

+"No; oh, no!" exclaimed Phil, all his hearty Western hospitality in

+arms at the sight of his girl guest's expression.

+

+Edgar turned on him again. "I fancied that my mother had been rather

+civil to you since your arrival. I'll tell her how you guard her

+dignity."

+

+Edgar was fairly swelling with emotion, one fourth of which was

+indignant defence of his mother, and three fourths joy at a clear case

+against the poverty-stricken artist who had dared set his own sacred

+person on a barrel and make him light an oil-stove.

+

+Kathleen's scarlet face and lambent eyes spoke her distress. Phil,

+faced with condoning the slur on his kind hostess, was bewildered and

+uncertain.

+

+Eliza saw it all and was the most disturbed of the four.

+

+"Oh, Mr. Fabian, it's all my fault!" she exclaimed, looking appealingly

+at Edgar. "Please stay for tea."

+

+"Really, you know," said Phil, "this is all a tempest in a tea-pot." He

+held up Aunt Mary's graceful old-colonial silver. "This one would be

+too big to hold it."

+

+"Come, Kath," said Edgar, ignoring them. "Will you come with me or

+shall I wait for you in the car?"

+

+Kathleen gave him an imploring look, but he was already moving to the

+door.

+

+Phil took an impulsive step toward her. "Perhaps you will stay," he

+said, in supreme discomfort. She gave him a little smile. "No, I

+mustn't," she answered gently. "I'm sorry I hadn't finished looking at

+the sketches."

+

+"May I bring them over to you?"

+

+She shook her head. "I go back to school in the morning. Good-bye, I

+wish you all success."

+

+Eliza stood with tight-clasped hands. It had been her fault that the

+bud of an acquaintance which might have been serviceable to her young

+friend had been blighted. They would tell Mrs. Fabian. She might visit

+her anger upon him. Eliza had never expected to feel gratitude toward

+one of the name, but her surprise was mingled with that sentiment when

+Kathleen now approached her, laying her smooth gloved hand on the rough

+clasped ones to say good-bye.

+

+"You are going to Brewster's Island?" she asked. "It is a strange time

+of year."

+

+"'Twas my home once," replied Eliza, tragedy of past and present so

+evident in her haggard face that a touch of pity stirred the girl's

+heart.

+

+"I heard," said Kathleen, "that Mrs. Wright is staying there. How can

+she in the desolate winter?"

+

+"I guess angels can live anywhere," responded Eliza. Her disturbed eyes

+met Kathleen's. "Miss Fabian," and her hard hand grasped the gloved

+one, "I don't care how cold the winter's goin' to be if only you'll

+promise me that I haven't done any harm to this boy here by my foolish

+talk. He ain't to blame if I seemed to--to speak about your mother.

+Don't, don't let her blame him for it. If I thought she would--if I

+thought I'd cut him off from friends--some day when I get to thinkin'

+about it up there on that hill I feel as if I should jump into the

+water and done with it."

+

+"I'll explain," said Kathleen gently. "I hope you'll have a good

+winter. I'm glad you will have Mrs. Wright."

+

+When the girl turned back, Edgar had gone; and the veil of

+perfunctoriness had fled from her host's eyes. He was looking at her as

+friend at friend.

+

+He escorted her downstairs, and out through the alley to the waiting

+limousine within which, with elevated feet, Edgar was already solacing

+himself with a cigarette. At sight of the approaching pair, he leaped

+from the car, and received his sister with hauteur.

+

+"Good-bye," said Phil composedly, when they were inside; "very good of

+you to come."

+

+He closed the door, the machine started, and he returned to the stable,

+where Pat received him with a grin, still standing where he had risen

+when Kathleen passed through a minute ago. "I say, me bye," he said

+huskily, jerking his thumb in the direction of the stairway, "the auld

+one above there--she's yer second best girl, I'm thinkin'. That one,"

+pointing to the street, "she do be a princess all roight. She turned

+them lamps on me when she first come in and asked for you, and I felt

+chape 'cause the stairs wasn't marble; but look out, me son, I know

+that breed. She'll make ye toe the mark."

+

+Phil smiled. "To be honest with you, Pat, I have just one best girl,"

+he said emphatically.

+

+Pat looked up at him with admiration.

+

+"Is she in New York, thin?"

+

+"Sometimes I think I shall get a glimpse of her here."

+

+"Sure if she knows where ye are ye will, thin!" said Pat devoutly. "How

+does she dress so I'll know her? I'll be on the watch."

+

+"Just now in scarlet and gold," said Phil, lifting his head and gazing

+beyond the stable wall.

+

+"Faith, she knows a thing or two," nodded Pat. "'Tis an old dodge, 'Red

+and Yeller, ketch a feller.'"

+

+"In winter she goes all in white," said Phil, "soft, pure, spotless."

+

+"Moighty wasteful fer the city!" said Pat seriously. "'Twill be hard

+on yer pocket, me bye."

+

+"In spring she's in golden-green among the browns, but in summer, full,

+glorious green, Pat. Oh, she's a wonderful girl, a goddess!"

+

+"Sure she is if she knows that green's the best of all the game,"

+exclaimed the Irishman. "Whin'll she be comin'?"

+

+"Ah, I have to go to her, Pat."

+

+"'Tis better so," agreed the other.

+

+"I've thought she might meet me sometime out in the park."

+

+"She can, sir." Pat gave Phil's shoulder a sounding slap.

+

+"But I notice the park gate is kept locked."

+

+"It is," agreed Pat, with shining face, "and 'tis meself has a key.

+'Twill be yours for the askin' any day in the week."

+

+"Great!" responded Phil. "I'll remember that."

+

+"And sure I'll be lookin'," thought Pat, watching the artist take the

+stairway in bounds. "The women'll mob that bye afore he gets through.

+Sure I'd like to see the gurl brings that look to his eyes."

+

+

+

+

+CHAPTER IX

+

+HEIRLOOMS

+

+

+As the Fabian car started toward home, Edgar hoped his sister would

+rally him on his failure to chastise the puny artist from the West.

+Anything was better than one of Kathleen's "stills," as he called his

+sister's periods of scornful silence. He was Kathleen's elder, he was

+her brother. By every law of propriety she should be guided by him and

+lean upon his opinions; but as he now reflected she was "more apt to

+jump on them."

+

+At present her sombre eyes looked straight ahead under the picture hat,

+and her countenance expressed only composure of mind and body. He had

+thrown away his cigarette, and he began to hum the favorite aria from

+"Madam Butterfly." Kathleen, if she spoke at all, would probably try to

+persuade him to say nothing to their mother of the scene just passed.

+He would offer her an opening for speech. Perhaps she was anxious in

+spite of her acted composure.

+

+"I heard 'Butterfly' last week," he said. "Farrar can have me."

+

+Silence.

+

+"Well," he looked around at the slender dark face with the eyes full

+of slumberous fire. "Well, why don't you get off one of those juices

+of yours about the fair Geraldine probably not being aware of her good

+luck, et cetera?"

+

+The chauffeur was playing with the speed limit. They would soon be at

+home. Kathleen realized that this would be the only opportunity to

+speak with her brother alone.

+

+She slowly turned her head and met his quickly averted gaze. "You are

+not usually so chivalrous toward mother," she said. "Why did you think

+it worth while to make such a fuss?"

+

+"Twitting on facts is bad taste," declared Edgar with his usual air of

+insouciance. If his sister would only talk, all would be well.

+

+"What do you mean by that?"

+

+"Why, Aunt Mary's faithful retainer showed the poorest possible taste.

+She said if mother knew that those antiques were left unprotected by

+anything but the oil-stove, she would prance over to that stable and

+nab them."

+

+Kathleen stared at him. "Do you mean that she would?"

+

+"Like a shot," responded Edgar cheerfully. "Wasn't I bound to resent

+it?"

+

+Kathleen kept silence a space. Since she had been at home this time,

+her mother had told her with some excitement of Eliza's presumption in

+retaining articles of no value to a servant.

+

+"And whether I was warranted or not," went on Edgar, elated by her

+muteness, "'there comes an opportunity in the lives of men' which

+seldom knocks on a man's door the second time. I flatter myself I was

+quick enough to shut the box between that wild and woolly Westerner and

+us, so that he won't expect anything more of _me_, in any event."

+

+"I should think not," returned Kathleen slowly. "The childish way you

+took your playthings and went home was ridiculous."

+

+Edgar's face flamed. "Don't be nasty, Kathleen, just because you know

+how," he said, dropping his careless tone. "No doubt you thought it was

+very funny to see me lifted about like a doll, and on my knees lighting

+a stove. I went there to please you, but I can tell you a very little

+of alleys and stables will do for me. When I go slumming it'll be where

+the poor know their place and know mine."

+

+"Oh, Edgar," said Kathleen hopelessly. "Well, is it your intention to

+tell mother what happened?"

+

+"I'm going to keep that up my sleeve. It may come in handy sometime."

+

+"It would hurt her feelings, and do no good," said the girl.

+

+"Do no good? What! Not if it kept her from inviting the cowboy early

+and often to the house? Oh, yes, I've no doubt he's got you all right.

+He's a looker, and girls are all alike."

+

+Kathleen did not condescend to notice this thrust. Her eyes turned back

+to gaze upon the road as it flew beneath their car. "Don't lie awake

+planning to avoid Mr. Sidney," she said quietly. "He will probably

+always see you first; but from the moment you tell mother about this

+petty little scene we've just passed through, you need never come to me

+for assistance in any line. I shall not give it to you."

+

+Stealing a side glance at his sister's face, Edgar Fabian knew that she

+meant what she said.

+

+"Supposing," she went on presently, "that you had smoothed over an

+awkward moment, and that we had had tea in Aunt Mary's egg-shell cups,

+and had let that brave fellow think he was giving us pleasure, and that

+you had sung something to his mandolin in your charming voice;--think

+of the difference in situation to us all. Instead of four hurt people,

+scattering, and feeling awkward and ashamed, we should have given the

+stranger in a strange land a little housewarming to begin life with

+here."

+

+"Not four hurt people, if you please," retorted Edgar with bravado; but

+he was surprised, and somewhat affected by his sister's picture. His

+charming voice would doubtless have increased the host's respect for

+him.

+

+"I expect sometime, of course," he went on with a superior air, "to be

+a patron of the arts to a certain extent. If the cowboy makes good, and

+learns to keep his hands off his betters, I may do something for him

+yet."

+

+Kathleen's risibles were not easily stirred; but now she laughed low,

+and so heartily that Edgar's inflation over her compliment to his voice

+became as a pricked balloon. She even wiped away a tear as she ceased.

+

+"Philip Sidney is going to interest the patrons of art," she said at

+last.

+

+"What makes you so sure?" asked Edgar with a sneer. "His physique?"

+

+"His sketches, his superiority to his circumstances, and his behavior

+to Eliza," returned Kathleen composedly.

+

+"Great Scott!" exclaimed her brother. "I'd like to see myself saddled

+with that gargoyle and a wild-cat, in an unfurnished stable on a dismal

+afternoon."

+

+"Yes, you've shown your sympathy and assistance in a manly and powerful

+manner," said Kathleen, as the car stopped before the brown-stone front

+of their home.

+

+"Sarcasm, Miss Fabian," returned her brother, as he assisted her to

+alight, "is the cheapest and meanest of weapons. Each one to his taste.

+That state of things suited him. It wouldn't suit me. That's all. It

+takes all sorts of people to make the world."

+

+Mrs. Fabian was in the drawing-room, and as her children entered she

+looked up expectantly, then her face fell.

+

+"I told you to bring Phil back with you to tea."

+

+"I forgot it, mother, really," said Kathleen. She sat down and began

+taking off her gloves. "But he couldn't have come."

+

+"No," added Edgar. "He had a guest; your friend Eliza Brewster was

+there with her cat."

+

+"Eliza!" echoed Mrs. Fabian, sitting up. "Is she going to cook for

+Philip?"

+

+"No," said Kathleen. "She is going to Brewster's Island to-night."

+

+"I tried," added Edgar, "to get her to send you the cat as a souvenir,

+but she refused."

+

+"I'm glad she is leaving town," said Mrs. Fabian. "She is a very

+ungrateful person and I detest ingratitude. Moreover, a person who is

+in an anomalous position is always annoying, and Aunt Mary made Eliza

+so much a member of her family that the woman doesn't know her place.

+What was she doing over at Phil's?"

+

+"Overseeing the moving in of Aunt Mary's dunnage," replied Edgar.

+

+"Why! Has he more than one room?" asked Mrs. Fabian with interest.

+

+"No, mother," said Kathleen, in a tone designed to offset Edgar's

+sprightly scorn. "He has just one, and nothing in it but piles of

+Indian blankets and a table and chair."

+

+"The chair for Eliza, mind you," put in Edgar, "while Kathleen and I

+were stowed on the floor."

+

+A spark glowed in the girl's eyes as she regarded her brother. "He let

+you sit on a barrel, I remember," she said.

+

+"Oh, yes," returned Edgar; "and speaking of barrels," he went on, a

+belligerent spark glowing in his eyes, "a ripping thing happened. All

+this old stuff came over while we were there, and among them a barrel

+of dishes. Well, Sidney opened it and began taking out the things, but

+instead of the coarse stuff Eliza had meant to give him, there were

+gold-banded china, and colonial silver tea-things--"

+

+Mrs. Fabian's backbone suddenly seemed of steel. "Aunt Mary had a few

+fine old things," she interrupted.

+

+"Well, there they were. She'd given Sidney the wrong barrel. You should

+have seen her face. She was ready to faint."

+

+"You say she leaves to-night?" Mrs. Fabian's eyes were looking far

+away through the wall of her house toward Gramercy Park. "Philip won't

+want the care of those delicate old things," she added. "I'll get some

+proper ones for him in the morning."

+

+Edgar laughed gleefully, none the less that Kathleen's lips were grave.

+

+"If I were you, mother," said the girl, "I would let them work it out.

+Eliza seems to have taken the helm over there."

+

+"Of course she has," agreed Mrs. Fabian sharply. "Taking is Eliza's

+forte. That china and silver belonged to my grandmother. If Aunt Mary

+didn't have enough thoughtfulness to leave it to me in writing, is that

+any reason it should not be mine?"

+

+"Aunt Mary knew," said Kathleen, "that you had everything you wanted."

+

+"Everything I needed, perhaps," retorted Mrs. Fabian, with excitement,

+"but I certainly want my own grandmother's things; and Providence has

+thrown them into my hands. I shall explain everything to Philip and he

+will be glad to have me take them. Isn't he all that I said he was,

+Kathleen?"

+

+"He is very interesting," returned Kathleen quietly.

+

+Then she rose and went to the door. Edgar followed her uneasily to the

+foot of the stairs.

+

+"I'm not going to peach, Kath, don't worry," he said. "I'll keep the

+compact. I just wanted to prove to you that I knew the _mater_."

+

+His sister turned on him. "I told you that you should have been the

+girl and I the man," she said; and he winced under the contempt of her

+look. "If mother gets those things to-morrow, the result for you will

+be just what I promised. I shall never be at your call again."

+

+"You said--" began Edgar, perturbed.

+

+But Kathleen ran swiftly upstairs. Her brother returned to the

+drawing-room.

+

+"What's the matter with Kathleen?" inquired Mrs. Fabian. "She behaved

+so strangely."

+

+"Oh," returned Edgar, shaking his head as if exasperated beyond

+patience, "Kath's a stiff. She can't see a joke if she runs into it.

+Now, I think that barrel business was funny, don't you?"

+

+"It's something more than funny," returned Mrs. Fabian impressively.

+"It's Providence, as I said."

+

+"Well, now, I'll wager," declared her son argumentatively, "that if you

+take the law into your own hands and bring that old truck over here,

+Kathleen will cut us both."

+

+"What in the world is the reason? Was she so impressed with

+Philip? I think he's irresistible myself, but Kathleen is so

+unimpressionable--and beside, he won't disapprove."

+

+"I'm not so sure. He treats Eliza as if she was the one best bet. I

+don't pretend to know all Kath thinks. She's a high-brow and a crank.

+Do you suppose she'd look at a man unless he was a college professor? I

+guess not."

+

+"Don't speak of your sister so, Edgar. You have reason to be grateful

+that she is not an ordinary silly flirt."

+

+"Flirt!" ejaculated Edgar, with rolling eyes. "Do you suppose she'd sit

+on the stairs with anything but a Latin book, or flirt with anything

+but a microscope?"

+

+"Well, then, you don't have to worry about her?"

+

+"Don't I!" retorted Edgar laconically.

+

+"I must say," pursued Mrs. Fabian virtuously, "it is too much for

+Kathleen always to expect me to hold her judgment superior to mine. I

+shall do in this matter what I see fit."

+

+"Then it's all up with me," observed Edgar.

+

+"What do you mean?"

+

+"She'll visit it on me. She always does." Edgar was beginning to wish

+that he had not played with fire. "Beside, in this case, Eliza says

+that old stuff belongs to her; is hers to do as she pleases with."

+

+"Yes," returned Mrs. Fabian, with righteous indignation. "Possession is

+nine tenths of the law; and if I get that possession we'll see what the

+law can do for her!"

+

+"Oh," protested Edgar petulantly, "why do you want to bother with it?"

+

+His mother's eyes were glistening. In fancy she saw the convenient

+barrel in which was compactly stowed Aunt Mary's little store of

+heirlooms.

+

+"Because," she answered with dignity, "genuine old things like that are

+not to be despised. They would be just the thing at the island."

+

+"That's what Eliza thought," said Edgar drily.

+

+"The idea," exclaimed Mrs. Fabian, "of her using such things in the

+sort of home she'll have!"

+

+"Perhaps she'll console Mrs. Wright with them," said Edgar. "You were

+pitying her last night for her winter exile."

+

+"If she did, Mrs. Wright would give them back to me at once," declared

+Mrs. Fabian; "but never mind, there will be no need now. Providence has

+thrown them right into my hands. Occasionally you can see justice work

+out in this world."

+

+Edgar looked toward the portières. Kathleen might return. There was no

+sign of any one approaching, however.

+

+"Well, I'm in wrong with Kath for having spoken of it, then," he said.

+"Let me have twenty, will you, mother? You can afford to on the

+strength of the heirlooms."

+

+"I can't, Edgar."

+

+"Ten, then; you owe me that much, I'm sure."

+

+Mrs. Fabian's lips took a tight line.

+

+"You know, Edgar," she said impressively, "your father has forbidden me

+to give you money. He says you must learn the worth of it."

+

+The youth shrugged his shoulders impatiently, and throwing himself into

+an easy-chair, stretched his legs toward the blazing logs and stared at

+the fire with the gloom of one who feels that he has killed the goose

+that laid the golden eggs. He had not, however, told of Eliza's insult

+and his own wrathful departure from the stable. He could defend himself

+to Kathleen so far, when next they met, and it might possibly soften

+her heart.

+

+       *       *       *       *       *

+

+When Philip Sidney bounded up the stable stairs, he came in upon

+Eliza, who was standing as he had left her, and with such a woe-begone

+expression that, meeting her tragical gaze, he burst into a peal of

+laughter.

+

+"Oh, Mr. Philip, Mr. Philip!" she mourned. "I've spoiled everything."

+

+"What! Let the kettle boil over?"

+

+"No, no; you'll make light of it for my sake; but I've turned the

+Fabians against you! That pert little bantam will go home and tell his

+mother everything, and it'll make a lot o' difference. They might have

+been lots o' use to you."

+

+"Don't borrow trouble, Eliza. I'm not going to have our last visit

+spoiled. I don't make use of my friends anyway; and beside, I'm going

+to be too busy to have any. Come, now, make the tea. I want to see you

+drink so much that you 'swell wisibly before my wery eyes.' Shall we

+use this fine old silver jug?"

+

+"Mr. Sidney." Eliza wrung her hands. "You're awful smart and strong;

+can we get this barrel headed up again and off to the depot to-night?"

+

+"Why," Phil hesitated, "I suppose so, but wouldn't you rather have

+your tea in comfort now, before we go out to dinner, and let me do the

+barrel to-morrow and send it off?"

+

+"There wouldn't be any barrel," returned Eliza darkly. "Not unless you

+packed and sent it before you went to your school."

+

+"Why not?"

+

+"You heard me tell 'em right to their face," said Eliza.

+

+"Oh, surely," protested Phil, "you don't think Mrs. Fabian would do

+anything highhanded?"

+

+"Wouldn't she, though?" returned Eliza. "She hasn't got over it yet

+that Mrs. Ballard sent your mother a diamond pin and didn't leave her

+anything."

+

+Phil looked puzzled. "Why didn't Aunt Mary remember Aunt Isabel?" he

+asked.

+

+"To tell the truth, I don't think Mrs. Ballard meant to slight her. She

+just didn't think anything about it. She knew Mrs. Fabian was rich, and

+didn't suppose she'd care for any of her little things. Your mother

+always acted human toward her, and was her namesake, and 'twas natural

+she should send her something."

+

+"Well, well; have a cup of tea anyway." Eliza's pallor went to her

+host's heart. He went to the window and brought in the lemon and sugar.

+

+Eliza followed him with her eyes.

+

+"Do you think you can, Mr. Sidney?" she asked, her hands interlocked.

+

+"Can what?"

+

+"Do the barrel. I'll never forget it of you," she said fervently.

+

+"I can't believe there's any necessity for such haste. Pat's a good

+watch-dog so far as thieves are concerned."

+

+"You don't know what you're talking about, Mr. Sidney. Trust me, it's

+my only chance to save the dishes; and I tell you she might have the

+whole kit and boodle of 'em and welcome, if she'd been kind, or even

+decent to that little angel. 'T ain't the silver and things I want.

+It's to keep 'em away from her."

+

+Phil could see that Eliza was trembling in her intensity. She had

+shaken her head until she had again loosened the grey locks about her

+gaunt face.

+

+"I don't care anything about anything to eat, Mr. Sidney," she went on.

+"I can head up the barrel myself in some kind of a way, but it's got to

+go to the depot or else I don't, and my berth's all paid for."

+

+"How did you ever happen to be born in New England?" returned Phil

+meditatively, noting her clenched hands. "You and Bernhardt would have

+been rivals. Settle down comfortably now. Make the tea and I'll head up

+the barrel after you have used one of these cups. If necessary, we'll

+ride on the wagon."

+

+"Oh, Mr. Sidney, _can_ we ride on the wagon?" exclaimed Eliza in a

+frenzy of gratitude.

+

+Phil laughed. "Anyway, the barrel shall leave here to-night. I'll take

+one of my brushes and do such high-art addressing that it will follow

+you meekly to the island. Don't you worry another moment. I guarantee

+it."

+

+"Then it'll have to leave here before we do," persisted Eliza.

+

+"It shall leave here before we do. Now, are you satisfied?"

+

+Eliza heaved a deep sigh of relief and proceeded to make the tea.

+

+Phil was inclined to be impatient with her fears; but the next day,

+when he returned from the Academy, Pat met him with a grin.

+

+"Sure ye're the divil of a bye," he said with an expansive gesture.

+"I'll have to put on a biled shirt every day to resave yer company. 'T

+was no less than the Queen o' Sheby came to see ye this mornin' an' you

+not gone tin minutes."

+

+"A lady--the one who was here yesterday?"

+

+"Sure 't was no slip of a girl in a big hat to-day, 'T was a queen, I'm

+tellin' ye. She rolled up in her motor car an' come here an' knocked

+on me door, an' me without a collar on. She was dressed in furs an'

+looked like she owned the earth.

+

+"'I wish to see Mr. Sidney,' says she.

+

+"'Thin ye'll have to go farther, mum,' says I. 'Ye'll find him at the

+paintin' school,' says I.

+

+"She didn't need any paint herself, I'm tellin' ye. She got rid in the

+face while she was talkin'.

+

+"'I'm his aunt,' says she, haughty-like, 'an' as long as I'm here I'll

+see his room,' says she; an' wid that she wint up them stairs like they

+belonged to her. I heerd her movin' around, an' I hurried to button

+me collar an' slick up. Presently I dropped the comb, for I heerd her

+comin' back. Before she'd got away downstairs, 'What have ye done wid

+the barrel?' says she. 'What bar'l?' says I. 'The wan Mr. Sidney had

+here last night,' says she. Thin I remembered there was wan. 'It moved

+out,' says I, 'wid his company,' says I. 'What company?' says she, and

+her eyes snapped the way I expected to hear her say, 'Off with his

+head!'

+

+"'A lady,' says I, 'wid a cat in a basket. 'T was a reg'lar movin','

+says I.

+

+"She bit her lip, and muttered: 'Just like her!' I heerd her plain,

+though she wasn't lookin' at me no more. Take an auld man's advice, me

+bye. Kape away from the Queen o' Sheby for a while; an' if ye don't

+tell me what was in that bar'l rollin' up an' down stairs like a

+restless soul, I'll be havin' the nightmare, sure."

+

+Phil laughed, and shook his head. "The ways of women, Pat," he said,

+"are so far beyond me that I can't even guess."

+

+"Can't guess what was in the bar'l? Tell me, now, or ye'll not git the

+key to the park nor meet yer sweetheart."

+

+"There were dishes and silver in that barrel, Pat. Each of the women

+thinks she owns them."

+

+"I'd bet on the Queen o' Sheby," said Pat.

+

+"You'd lose, then," returned Phil, running upstairs.

+

+

+

+

+CHAPTER X

+

+THE ARRIVAL

+

+

+Eliza Brewster reached Portland in time for breakfast; and the hours

+she must spend before the one afternoon boat started for the island

+were embarrassing ones on account of Pluto. She had a cup of coffee and

+an egg in the station, and then lifted her heavy basket on the car and

+rode across the city to the wharf.

+

+Setting the cat at liberty she followed him about, and held him on her

+lap, alternately, until passengers were allowed to board the steamer.

+The captain and purser were new to her. She glanced about the cabin as

+she sat, her arms clasped about the basket, out of whose window Pluto's

+eyes were again glowering. Eliza dreaded recognizing some one she

+knew; but no recognition occurred, and she had ample time in the two

+hours' ride to meditate on past and future. Many years had fled since

+she last saw Casco Bay. She and Mrs. Ballard had spent a couple of

+weeks at Brewster's Island one summer, but it had been their farewell

+to outings further from home than Coney Island. She had not enjoyed

+the experience because of wrathful resentment at the neglect of Mrs.

+Fabian, then a bride; but Mrs. Ballard had revelled in the natural

+beauty which feasted her soul. Eliza evoked the memory now and smiled

+grimly with satisfaction at the consideration that the precious barrel

+was safely starting on its journey after her.

+

+She met her cat's green gaze through his wire window. "If I set more

+value on my life than I do, Pluto," she muttered, "I'd risk it on Mrs.

+Fabian visitin' a certain stable this mornin'. Then Mr. Philip'll know,

+and he'll forgive me."

+

+Her heart warmed as she thought of the jolly kindness of her late host;

+of his assiduity and care for her comfort; of the milk he had fed to

+Pluto, and the hot beefsteak to herself.

+

+"That supper last night cost him a lot o' money. I know it did!" she

+thought remorsefully, "but," with a revulsion of affectionate concern,

+"I hope he'll eat good and not slight himself when he's alone. There's

+such a lot of him to nourish."

+

+It was the sort of dismal weather which inspired the description, "No

+sun, no moon, no stars, November!" and Eliza dreaded the return to

+her old changed home. Her heart beat a little faster as the steamer

+ploughed along, each minute bringing her nearer to that especial hill

+rising from the waters of Casco Bay where she first opened her eyes to

+life. Memories of those dead and gone assailed her until her eyes stung.

+

+"I'd like to know," she thought sternly, "if there's as ungrateful a

+critter in the universe. S'posin' I was goin' to the island to nobody?

+S'posin' I'd been seen off in New York by nobody? That's what I'd

+expected to happen two weeks ago."

+

+Eliza gazed rebukingly at the steam radiator in the middle of the cabin

+until her tears ceased.

+

+She had not slept much in her unaccustomed bed on the sleeping-car,

+impeded by the heavy basket and her own hand-bag, and the fear of how

+Pluto might behave at the stops; so the boat ride seemed long, and it

+was with relief that she at last heard the summons:--

+

+"Brewster's Island. Land from the lower deck."

+

+"Praise be!" she thought. "I haven't got to lug my things upstairs."

+

+There were but few passengers to get off at this island, and but few

+persons standing in the raw air on the wharf.

+

+There was a lump in Eliza's throat as she carried her burdens up

+the gangplank, but through the mist in her eyes she saw a face she

+recognized. It was lean, and smooth-shaven, and had scarcely grown more

+lined in twenty years. The man met her gaze with alert scrutiny and

+then looked beyond her for some one. The gangplank was drawn in.

+

+"James," said Eliza, when she had swallowed.

+

+The alert, searching eyes returned to her, and looked, at first,

+without recognition.

+

+"Don't tell me you don't know me, James," added the traveller, trying

+to laugh.

+

+"Why, Eliza Brewster, I was runnin' over ye," said the captain in hasty

+amazement. "You--you've grown some spare, Eliza. Just at first I didn't

+see who't wuz." The kindly speaker endeavored to conceal his dismay.

+"Amazin' how a little flesh off or on'll change a body," he added.

+"Here, let me take your bundles. Carriage right up here waitin' for us.

+Mrs. Wright sent me down to meet ye. Kinder homely day, ain't it?"

+

+"That's a cat, James," said Eliza as he seized the basket. "You see,

+I'm a real old maid, travellin' with a cat."

+

+"Well, it's all right, I s'pose," returned the captain gallantly, as

+they walked up the wharf toward the waiting carry-all; "but 't would

+'a' been more to the point if ye'd brought somethin' that was kind of

+a rarity on the island. We could 'a' supplied ye with a cat fer every

+day in the week, black, white, malty, whatever ye wanted. Well! how ye

+been, Eliza?"

+

+"I guess you can see," returned Eliza laconically.

+

+"Well, well," said Cap'n James. He helped her into the carriage and

+followed. "Git ap, Tom. Mrs. Wright'll fat ye up in no time. She says

+you're goin' to stay with her."

+

+"Yes, for a while I am." Eliza's eyes were travelling over the familiar

+rolling landscape. "How does she make out here?"

+

+"Don't seem to complain none. Mr. Wright has settled down like a round

+peg in a round hole. Brewster's Island's good enough for him."

+

+"My, my! How it's changed!" murmured Eliza as one unexpected roof after

+another rose into view.

+

+"I s'pose that's so," agreed Captain James. "You can't stay away even

+from one o' these islands a dozen years or so without seein' the foot

+o' man encroachin'. It's good fer trade, Eliza, good fer trade. Lots

+o' the roofs ye see cover empty cottages now, but come summer time the

+place swarms all right. The Fabians got enough room to swing a cat in.

+Nobody can come very near them; but the rest o' the island's pretty

+well dotted here and there."

+

+"It don't look like the place I was brought up," said Eliza.

+

+They had reached the height of the road now, and her wistful eyes fell

+on a cove which pierced the island's side. Its softly rising banks were

+studded with evergreen trees, standing black above the black water. A

+threatening sky hung sullenly over all.

+

+"'Tain't the place you was brought up," returned Captain James

+cheerfully. "It's a darned sight more prosperous place. While the

+summer folks are restin' up, we're makin' hay and cuttin' ice, as ye

+might say; and come fall we get shet of 'em and go back to a quiet

+life. No one can't say this ain't a quiet life, can they, Eliza?"

+

+Captain James reined in the horse before taking the Foster Hill, and

+compassion showed in his kindly eyes as he turned and watched the grey

+face of his passenger.

+

+"Eliza Brewster used to be a pretty girl," was his pitiful thought.

+

+She kept silence, her pale eyes resting on the dark waters of the cove,

+austerely quiet in the windless twilight.

+

+"Feels like snow," said Captain James. "S'pose you could snowball now,

+Eliza? I know when we were youngsters you could hold yer own with any

+boy on the island."

+

+"That's my one talent, James," responded Eliza drily. "I can hold my

+own yet."

+

+The captain smiled with relief at this sign that some of the old spirit

+lingered behind that haggard face.

+

+"By cracky," he said, "I'll bring up a bob-sled after the first snow,

+and we'll toboggan downhill again, Eliza. Never say die. Git ap, Tom."

+

+The carriage started up toward a long low white house on the summit of

+the ridge. Four bare Balm of Gilead trees stood sentinel before it in a

+waste of withered grass. Beyond rose the gnarled boughs of a struggling

+apple orchard, beside which a tiny house with blank uncurtained windows

+stood beneath the forlorn guard of two more gaunt bare trees standing

+ready for the conflict with winter winds, and bearing the scars of

+many a battle past. Back of the little building was a shallow field

+inclining downward to the open ocean which held the island now in its

+black, mighty embrace, creeping with a subdued roar upon the cold rocky

+sands.

+

+"Say, Eliza," said Captain James, as the tiny deserted cottage came

+into view, "was we afraid o' Granny Foster, was we? Say!"

+

+The speaker turned and interrogated his passenger with a twinkle.

+

+A wan smile rewarded him.

+

+"Afterward Jenny used it for chickens, Mrs. Wright says," she returned.

+

+"Yes; but there never was an old hen there that come up to Granny

+Foster, you bet."

+

+"How long ago does that seem to you, James?" asked Eliza, after a pause.

+

+"As if 'twas yesterday," he responded valiantly.

+

+His memory was picturing the little girl in plaid gingham and sunbonnet

+who could outrun any boy on the island. That sunbonnet was never in

+place, but always hung down Eliza's back, the strings tied at her

+throat. Captain James remembered to have thought there was something

+very pleasing about that throat.

+

+"It seems a hundred years ago to me," said Eliza quietly.

+

+"Whew! You must 'a' lived fast in New York," returned Captain James.

+"That's an awful record."

+

+"Do you suppose I'll ever get used to the stillness again, James? I

+believe if a pin was to drop in this grass you could hear it."

+

+"Guess Nature'll make rumpus enough for ye before long," returned the

+captain. "You've never tried it up on this hill, Eliza. I guess when

+the pebbles and rocks begin draggin' around below there at high tide,

+you won't miss the elevated trains none."

+

+The horse was climbing slowly and patiently as they talked, and a woman

+within the old farmhouse was watching the ascent from a window. Now the

+watcher disappeared, and presently the house door opened and a figure

+came out on the stone step.

+

+"There's Mrs. Wright now. Git ap, Tom."

+

+A gleam came into Eliza's pale eyes. It was an attractive figure that

+stood there in dark blue gown and white apron. The silver aureole of

+hair framed a smiling face. Eliza grasped the handles of Pluto's basket.

+

+"To think that after all the years I should have a homecoming on this

+island!" was her grateful thought.

+

+"Here we are," called Captain James cheerfully as they approached;

+"little box, big box, bandbox, and bundle, and the cat."

+

+Mrs. Wright approached as the carry-all stopped.

+

+"Did you really bring a cat, Eliza?" she asked, laughing.

+

+"Why,--why," stammered Eliza, "it never once came to me till this

+minute that perhaps you don't like cats!"

+

+"I like everything alive," was the response; and the speaker looked it,

+as she received the cat-basket, and Eliza stepped out on the grass.

+

+"But does Mr. Wright?" inquired Eliza in perturbation. Was it Pluto's

+destiny to become a wild-cat after travelling by land and sea!

+

+That gentleman now appeared, stout and with tousled hair, which

+suggested that he had just risen from slumber.

+

+"This is Eliza Brewster, Morris, and she has brought us a pet," said

+Mrs. Wright pleasantly.

+

+The host shook hands with the newcomer with sufficient grace and eyed

+the basket curiously. Captain James looked benignly on the group.

+

+"Eliza and me have been lookin' backward as we came along," he said.

+"We used to race and tear around this hill--she says 'twas a hundred

+years ago, but don't you believe it. I'm goin' to bring a bob-sled,

+first snow, and sail her down the hill and make her think 'twa'n't

+more'n yesterday that we did it last."

+

+The smile on Eliza's haggard face but made her fatigue more evident.

+

+"Where's the trunk, Cap'n James?" asked Mrs. Wright.

+

+"I'm goin' to fetch it right up. Git ap, Tom."

+

+"Hurry in, Mrs. Wright," said Eliza, her care-taking instinct asserting

+itself. "You'll take cold."

+

+"Not a bit of it," was the reply as the hostess led the way in; "I

+never take anything that doesn't belong to me."

+

+There was a cheerful fire blazing in the living-room and Eliza was

+at once seated before it and made to feel for a second time like an

+honored guest.

+

+"I'll let Pluto out, first thing, if you don't mind," she said, and

+unfastened the basket.

+

+Mr. Wright, his eyes indolently curious under the rumpled grey hair,

+watched the proceeding.

+

+"A Manx cat," he remarked as the prisoner leaped out. Pluto's green

+eyes blazed in the moment that he stood and looked about him.

+

+"Here, poor thing," said Eliza, "your troubles are over. There's a fire

+such as you've never seen in all your days."

+

+But the outraged cat scorned the fire, scorned even Eliza's caressing

+hand. Leaping from her touch he descried the lounge; and thanking the

+gods of his Egyptian ancestors that at last he had reached a place

+where furniture accorded hiding-places, he dashed into the darkest

+corner its valance concealed.

+

+"He's kind o' put out by all he's been through," said Eliza

+apologetically.

+

+Mr. Wright went to the couch and stooping lifted the valance.

+

+"Shall I get him for you?" he asked.

+

+Two green eyes blazed at him from the darkness and a vigorous spitting

+warned him away.

+

+"Please just let him sulk a little while," said Eliza hastily.

+Supposing Pluto should inaugurate their visit by scratching the host!

+Awful thought! "He's a real good cat in his way," she added.

+

+"Well, I'm certainly not invited under the lounge," said Mr. Wright,

+straightening up.

+

+"I didn't know anybody to give him to," went on Eliza, still

+apologetic. "Mr. Sidney said he would have taken him if he'd known."

+

+"Mr. Sidney. That's Mrs. Ballard's young artist, isn't it?" asked Mrs.

+Wright, who was boiling a kettle over an alcohol lamp at a tea-table in

+the corner of the room.

+

+"Yes--we spent our last day with him in his stable."

+

+"His what, Eliza?"

+

+"His stable. He's found one for a studio in a real stylish place up in

+Gramercy Park where the folks have gone to Europe. He's as tickled as

+if he owned the whole big house."

+

+"I'm glad he's found a place to suit him. You like him very much, don't

+you, Eliza?"

+

+"He couldn't be any better," said Eliza simply. "We'd 'a' had a real

+nice visit only the Fabian children came in, Edgar and Kathleen."

+

+"Oh, how are they?" asked Mrs. Wright with interest.

+

+"They seemed to be all right. I hadn't seen 'em for years."

+

+Mrs. Wright remembered Eliza's criticism of Mrs. Fabian on the occasion

+of the call she made upon her in New York.

+

+"Just turn your head," she said, "and you can see right from where you

+are sitting the fine cottage Mr. Fabian built here five years ago in

+place of the old one his wife owned."

+

+Eliza turned and looked out the window. Far across the field and an

+intervening wall she could see a house built of boulders, low and

+broad, and obtained glimpses of its wide verandas.

+

+"It's a charming place," went on Mrs. Wright, "and they have a

+delightful small yacht. We became acquainted with them during the last

+fortnight of Violet's stay in the summer and she had a few fine sails

+with them."

+

+Here the hostess rose and brought Eliza a cup of fragrant tea.

+

+The guest started. "The idea of your waitin' on me, Mrs. Wright," she

+said humbly.

+

+"Oh, making tea is fun, Eliza; and I want you to drink that before I

+take you to your room. This isn't any steam-heated apartment, as you

+remember."

+

+As she spoke, Mrs. Wright took a cup of tea to her husband, who was

+sitting on the couch, occasionally lifting the valance and peering

+beneath, apparently vastly entertained by the feline explosions with

+which Pluto, his sharp teeth bared, spat at the intrusion.

+

+"You won't put your hand under, will you, Mr. Wright?" asked Eliza

+anxiously. "Pluto's so quick you'd think 'twas lightnin' struck you.

+I'm ashamed of him with this good fire; but he had an awful time with

+boys once and that's where his tail went, and I don't feel to blame him

+so much as if he hadn't ever suffered any. He's scarcely seen any men

+except Mr. Sidney. He was clever to him always, but I don't know as

+Pluto'll forgive him now for shuttin' him up in the basket. Oh!" Eliza

+heaved a sigh of relief, "I'm so glad we've got here."

+

+"I've put an oil-stove in your room, Eliza," said Mrs. Wright, as all

+three sat sipping their tea.

+

+"That's real nice," returned Eliza. "Mr. Sidney's got an oil-stove. I

+do hope he won't smoke up everything. I tried to scare him,--told him

+he'd ruin his pictures."

+

+"We shall watch to see him make the success Mrs. Ballard expected,"

+said Mrs. Wright kindly, seeing that Eliza's heart was much with her

+dear one's heir.

+

+"He couldn't make anything but a success," responded Eliza.

+

+Presently her trunk arrived and was carried into the bedroom which

+Mrs. Wright had arranged for her. It was on the ground floor. All the

+second story of the house was to be left unused in the cold weather.

+

+In the evening Captain James came back a third time to play checkers

+with Mr. Wright. It seemed to be a daily custom; but soon after the

+supper dishes were washed, Mrs. Wright insisted on her tired guest

+getting into bed for a long night's rest.

+

+Pluto had leaped to the shed and thence out into the black darkness of

+the cloud-laden night.

+

+Eliza went to the door to call him, but her most ingratiating

+invitations were ignored.

+

+"Oh, go to bed, Eliza," said Captain James, who had just opened the

+checker-board. "What ye 'fraid of? 'Fraid he'll jump off the bank? He

+ain't fond enough o' the water, I'll bet. Go to bed and don't worry.

+Haven't ye ever heard the song, 'The cat came back, he couldn't stay

+away'?"

+

+"You know, James," said Eliza, ashamed of her anxiety, but nevertheless

+too much affected by it to seek her pillow while her pet was homeless,

+"you know it's places, not people, with a cat, selfish critters."

+

+"Well," responded the captain, "he can't get back to New York 'cause

+the walkin' 's so poor." As he spoke, a dark shadow passed into the

+light that streamed from the window.

+

+With the quickest movement of her life, Eliza jumped off the doorstep

+and pounced upon it. It was Pluto, and she held him under her arm with

+a vice-like grip as she reëntered the house.

+

+"Good-night, all," she said, rather shamefaced.

+

+"Good-night, Eliza," said Mrs. Wright, who had taken up a book. "Your

+lamp is lighted."

+

+When Eliza had reached her room, she closed the door and dropped the

+cat, who leaped toward it, and finding exit hopeless, looked up at her,

+night-fires gleaming in his eyes.

+

+"See here, Pluto," said Eliza severely, "will you stop actin' so crazy?

+I tell you we're home; _home_. If ever two folks ought to be filled to

+the brim with gratitude it's you and me. I'll give you a chance to look

+around here in daylight and get your bearin's, and then, if you don't

+behave as if you had some sense, I'll put you in the chicken-house and

+you shall live there. Do you hear that?"

+

+She stooped to smooth the jetty fur to offset in a measure her

+severity; but Pluto glided from beneath her hand and took refuge

+beneath the bed.

+

+"Well, of all the fools!" she soliloquized. Nevertheless she knew what

+the temperature of the room would be by the small hours, and, taking an

+old knitted grey shawl from her trunk, she threw it under the bed.

+

+

+

+

+CHAPTER XI

+

+MRS. FABIAN'S GIFTS

+

+

+Mrs. Fabian had taken her daughter to the train before she appeared

+to Pat's amazed eyes at the stable door. Her chagrin at discovering

+the removal of the barrel did not prevent her recognition of the

+discomforts of Phil's north-lighted chamber. Her nostrils dilated as

+she looked about her at the rumpled pile of blankets where the artist

+had evidently slept; the unlighted stove, and the open windows through

+which came an eager and a nipping air.

+

+"Poor boy! Poor boy!" she said to herself repeatedly.

+

+She had had an unpleasant fifteen minutes with Kathleen in the motor,

+for the girl had asked her directly if she intended to kidnap the

+missent barrel, and she had replied in an emphatic affirmative.

+

+"Would you rather have those old dishes than Mr. Sidney's respect?"

+Kathleen asked her.

+

+Mrs. Fabian looked her surprise. "It sounds very absurd to hear you

+call Phil 'Mr. Sidney,'" she said, fencing. "Don't you remember your

+Aunt Mary Sidney?"

+

+"Indeed, I do."

+

+Mrs. Fabian's mind was of the sort which associates social status

+indissolubly with money. She had always felt that in winning a

+millionaire for a husband, she had married above her; and, shaking

+off her own humble family connection wherever possible, had tried to

+be as nearly all Fabian as circumstances permitted. Her step-children

+had therefore never been expected or requested to adopt her relatives

+as their own. She now referred to the one memorable visit of Phil's

+beautiful mother to their island home, for Kathleen's persistent

+formality in referring to the artist brought a flush to her cheeks.

+

+If Kathleen, the proud, the reserved, the self-contained, were to

+pronounce upon the young man unfavorably, she should have nothing to

+say to the contrary, though she would continue to be kind to Mary's

+child in private.

+

+"I was only thinking," she continued, "that if you still remember his

+mother in your thoughts as your Aunt Mary, it seems rather formal to

+tack a Mr. upon Philip. You know, Kathleen," Mrs. Fabian's flush

+deepened, "I did not ask you to go to see him. I wanted Edgar to go,

+for the looks of the thing, since Phil is an entire stranger, and when

+I found he never would go by himself, I was thankful that you took him.

+You have been so--so grouchy ever since, that I'm sorry you went; but I

+don't see why you should blame me for it. It was your own proposition."

+

+"I know, mother," returned the girl; "and if you will promise not to

+go over there and take the tea-set I'll not be grouchy." The dark eyes

+lifted wistfully to Mrs. Fabian's astonished countenance.

+

+"What do you mean by my forfeiting Phil's respect?" she asked. "Do you

+mean that he wants them so much? Why, they'll be smashed or stolen in

+that rough place. They'll be nothing but a nuisance to him."

+

+"They belong to Eliza," pleaded Kathleen.

+

+"They belong to me!" retorted Mrs. Fabian explosively. "Philip will see

+that at once."

+

+Kathleen's lips closed. They had arrived at the station, and she said

+no more; but she departed with one consoling thought. Mrs. Fabian had

+misdirected herself and Edgar the day before. Perhaps she could not

+find the place to-day; but that lady, as soon as the car door was

+closed on her child, spoke through the tube to the chauffeur.

+

+"Drive," she said, "to the same place in Gramercy Park where you took

+Miss Kathleen yesterday."

+

+Soon she was face to face with Pat, and presently standing in Phil's

+forlorn apartment. The pieces of Mrs. Ballard's bedstead were still

+leaning against the wall.

+

+She pictured Kathleen the fastidious, the dainty, perching on that

+pile of blankets; but if the girl had despised the poverty-stricken

+art-student, why was she so strenuous and persistent as to retaining

+his respect? Why had she left for the studio in the best of spirits,

+and returned distrait, behaving in an absent-minded manner ever since.

+

+"Kathleen is a great deal more tenderhearted than she appears. I

+believe she pitied Phil so much it made her blue, and she couldn't bear

+to have me take away the only pretty things he had. Well, it seems I'm

+not going to!"

+

+Mrs. Fabian even opened the closet door. A few suits of clothes

+hung within, but the rest was chaos; and in that chaos no welcome

+curves of a barrel were to be found. Her alert eyes made a hasty but

+comprehensive search of the room.

+

+"The boy drank his coffee out of that mug!" she decided. "He is not in

+a mountain camp and he shall not live as if he were. He shall see that

+he is not dependent on Eliza Brewster for the decencies of life!"

+

+Then followed her descent upon Pat, her catechism, and her magnificent

+departure.

+

+Scarcely had Phil received the Irishman's account of the visit and gone

+up to his room that afternoon, when he heard a knocking on the stable

+door; and when Pat had opened it, a violent expletive from somebody.

+

+Phil stood still to listen. Surely he could not be connected with the

+present invasion, whatever it might be. His circle of acquaintance in

+Gotham had come, done its best and its worst, and departed for all time.

+

+"Misther Sidney, sor," yelled Pat from the foot of the stairs. "'T is

+the barr'l come back. Sure, and is it worth while totin' it up, whin it

+can't be at rest!"

+

+"It isn't for me," called Phil, coming out in his little hallway. "I

+refuse to live in such a whirl of excitement."

+

+"It is fer you, else all the money spint on me eddication is gone fer

+nothin'--and faith there's more to follow," added Pat, in a tone of

+such sudden surprise that Phil ran downstairs faster than he had gone

+up. A couch was approaching the stable door. This was followed by

+several large packages, upon one of which was tied a letter, and at

+last a Morris chair entered upon the scene.

+

+"Ye're the very soul of extravagance," said Pat severely, when the

+delivery man had departed. "If ye're a poor art-shtudent, say so; but

+if ye're a prince in disguise, out with it!"

+

+"This is a surprise party if I ever had one," declared Phil slowly,

+staring around at the objects.

+

+"Poor art-shtudents don't buy iligant couches with box springs long

+enough fer the lord mayor!" said Pat, unconvinced. "What brings ye to a

+stable whin ye've the Queen o' Sheby fer an aunt?"

+

+At the word a light illumined the situation.

+

+"For a fact, Pat! You did tell me my aunt was here!" And in a flash

+Phil's mind reverted to Kathleen with a sensation of gratitude. In

+some way she had prevented the disagreeable details of yesterday from

+angering her mother.

+

+"Give me a hand up, Pat," he said. "I'll guarantee this barrel will

+stay where it's put."

+

+When they had all the articles upstairs, Phil found himself possessed

+of a springy bed with ample clothing for the night, and ample couch

+cushions for day; well-selected dishes, alcohol lamp and copper kettle,

+and a table on which to stand them, a reading-lamp, and the easy-chair.

+

+"What do you think of it?" he said, looking about half-dazed.

+

+"I think ye're in the wrong box, bein' in a stable," answered Pat,

+scratching his head in perplexity.

+

+"No, no," Phil laughed; "a box stall for me. Wait till you see me

+scattering paint around here."

+

+"Faith, I have me doubts o' you," said Pat.

+

+His Irish dislike of voicing the unpleasant withheld him from

+expressing his thought; but as he regarded Phil now, standing coatless,

+and with tossed hair, looking about his transformed apartment, he

+decided that he was viewing the black sheep of a wealthy family, the

+masculine members of which had left him to his own poverty-stricken

+devices, while his softer-hearted female relatives were surreptitiously

+ameliorating his hard lot. It was difficult to see Phil in the rôle of

+black sheep, but Pat was sophisticated and knew that appearances were

+deceitful.

+

+"Pat," said the perplexing tenant suddenly, "I begin to believe I was

+born with a silver spoon in my mouth. I'm the happiest fellow in the

+world."

+

+"Sure a man doesn't say that till his wedding-day," objected Pat.

+

+Phil smiled confidently. "I told you I had the girl; and she's the

+faithfullest of the faithful."

+

+"You bet she is," returned the Irishman devoutly. "Whativer you've

+done, the gurr'l gets her hands on you once'll niver let go."

+

+"Whatever I've done? What do you think I've done?" laughed Phil.

+"Here's my mother. Want to see her?" And he sorted several leaves from

+the pile of sketches and laid them out on the new table.

+

+"It's swate she is!" said the Irishman, gazing with interest; and,

+perceiving the expression in the artist's eyes as he looked upon the

+pictures, he spoke suspiciously: "She ain't the gurr'l ye're talkin'

+of?"

+

+"No, no," returned Phil, "but she entirely approves of the match."

+

+"That helps, ye know," said Pat benevolently. "'Tis well to get airly

+settled in life, thin if"--he made a lenient gesture--"if ye've played

+too many cards or made any other mistakes, ye soon lave thim behind ye

+and there's little time wasted."

+

+That evening Phil called up the Fabian house, and, finding that Mrs.

+Fabian was to be at home, soon presented himself in that lady's boudoir.

+

+Mrs. Fabian, in a becoming négligée, sat before an open fire; a soft

+lamp at her elbow, and a French novel in her hand.

+

+"You know the naughty things in a French story are so stimulating,

+Phil," she explained, when he commented on her book. "You wouldn't

+think of reading the same things in English; but you get so curious to

+know what it's all about, that you work, and study, and I find it very

+helpful. Excuse my not rising to greet you. I've had an exhausting day;

+so as Edgar wasn't coming home, and Mr. Fabian had to attend a banquet,

+I had my dinner brought to me here."

+

+"I'm sure it is I who have exhausted you," said Phil, drawing his

+chair close to the luxurious downy nest which was embracing her plump

+person. "I don't know what to say to you, Aunt Isabel," he added

+gratefully, regarding her as she half-reclined, a living example of

+what can be accomplished by beauty-doctor and accomplished maid.

+

+She placed her white hand, with its perfect rosy tips, for an instant

+on his, then she patted the folds of her violet gown.

+

+"Now, don't say a word, my dear," she returned, complacency lighting

+her countenance. Her husband had little time for compliments, Edgar was

+uniformly ungrateful, and Phil was very handsome. She remembered how

+charming had seemed to her the relation between him and his mother; and

+she felt a longing to evoke something like that affection for herself.

+

+"But, indeed, I shall say a great deal," he declared. "You've turned

+my camp over there into the lap of luxury. I go on accepting things,

+everybody seems in a conspiracy to prevent my having any hardships, so

+I suspect I'm going to catch them at the school."

+

+"Aren't the teachers agreeable?"

+

+"Well, I've been there only a few days, but I see already that doctors

+disagree there as they do elsewhere. One comes and tells you you're

+all right, and the next declares you're all wrong; but I'm after the

+fundamental training I've never had, and I'm going to get it if I make

+their lives a burden to them."

+

+"I don't pretend to know anything about art, Phil," said the hostess

+complacently, "and I'm not going to add that I know what I like,

+either, so you needn't smile at the fire; but from those sketches of

+yours that I saw out at the mine I could see that you were bound to

+accomplish something if you had free rein. Kathleen was delighted with

+them."

+

+"I was much pleased to meet Miss Fabian," said Phil.

+

+"Dear me, why should you children be so formal!" exclaimed his hostess.

+"'Miss Fabian'! 'Mr. Sidney'! It's ridiculous when you consider your

+mother and me--more like sisters than cousins as we are."

+

+Philip bit his lip. The description struck him as diverting,

+considering the lapse of years during which his mother had heard

+nothing from this cousin.

+

+"I shall be very glad if Miss Fabian will let me know her better," he

+said.

+

+"It's a very, very strange thing, Phil," went on Mrs. Fabian, shaking

+her waved head and gazing at the fire, "to be a step-mother. I should

+have always said that environment was more powerful than heredity; but

+I've had those children almost from babyhood,"--the speaker challenged

+Phil with impressive eyes,--"and yet I look at them, yes, I assure you,

+I look at them as a hen might look at the ducks she had hatched."

+

+Phil saw that he was intended to respond, so he changed his position

+and made a soft, inarticulate exclamation.

+

+"Those children," declared Mrs. Fabian, "would probably both claim that

+they understood me from _a_ to _z_; but I am frank enough to state that

+I understand neither of them. Now, I'm going to tell you, Phil, that I

+am hanging great hopes upon your influence over Edgar."

+

+"My dear Aunt Isabel!" ejaculated the visitor. Phil's gratitude to this

+relative did not blind him to her characteristics, or as to how her

+idle and fashionable life had reflected in the bringing-up or coming-up

+of her son.

+

+"Now, don't say no, Phil," she went on. "I don't expect that you found

+any kindred spirit in Edgar, but I'm going to be frank, his father

+is so out of patience with him that he is severe, and I am hoping

+that the sight of your economy will show Edgar that something beside

+extravagance can bring happiness; and the sight of your industry will

+rebuke his idle tastes."

+

+"I can't conceive of myself as an example to the young," laughed Phil

+uncomfortably. "I half suspected yesterday that you had been holding

+me up before Edgar. There aren't any comparisons to be made between a

+gilded youth and a painter, and I assure you it is no lofty principle

+that makes me care little where I live and eat. It is only a desire to

+do a certain thing, so intense that it dwarfs every other need."

+

+"He has overpowering desires, too," said Mrs. Fabian bitterly; "but

+it is to go yachting and play polo and drink champagne." She sighed.

+"I suppose I haven't known how to be a good mother," she added with

+dejection, "but there,"--her voice grew suddenly argumentative,--"look

+at Kathleen! I've brought them up alike, but she is the other extreme.

+She has no taste for pleasure. She's a natural student and bookworm;

+and what I am to do with her when she graduates, Heaven only knows. I

+shall insist upon her coming out," added Mrs. Fabian virtuously. "She

+must go through the same form as the other girls in her set, and it may

+be that a reaction will set in and she will find a normal satisfaction

+in it. It will break my heart if she drops out and becomes one of

+these poky oddities. Well,"--another sigh,--"I mustn't borrow trouble.

+Were you surprised at my early morning call at your room, Phil? I hoped

+I should be early enough to catch you."

+

+"I was surprised; but it was a lucky visit for me, even though I was

+not there."

+

+"I'm glad you're pleased with those little comforts; but I shall be

+frank,--it was to try to get my grandmother's silver that I went. If

+you had known you were working against me, Phil, you wouldn't have

+helped that crazy Eliza to carry the things away."

+

+"They belong to her, she tells me," said Phil simply. "Aunt Mary seemed

+to think you were living in an embarrassment of riches anyway."

+

+"Then you should have shipped them to your mother. It's quite indecent

+that a servant should have them. It reflects upon your mother and me.

+Can't you see that, Phil?"

+

+He stirred his broad shoulders uncomfortably.

+

+"I'm glad you aren't going to blame me for it anyway," he returned,

+looking at his hostess with a frank smile. "After all they're only

+_things_, you know. The important part is how Aunt Mary felt about

+them, isn't it? You know probably what sort of thoughts she had about

+you in her last days."

+

+Mrs. Fabian looked at him with quick suspicion as he rose to go. Was he

+rebuking her in spite of his smile?

+

+"Some people marry into a family," she said after the pause. "Some

+marry out of one. I did both. I married a man with children, and a big

+establishment. I simply married out of my family. I didn't have time to

+attend to both, and any right-minded person can see where my duty lay!"

+

+The virtuousness in the speaker's face and voice were so enveloping

+that they created an atmosphere in which Phil was able to make his

+adieux without further embarrassment.

+

+

+

+

+CHAPTER XII

+

+MRS. FABIAN'S DINNER LIST

+

+

+For the next two months, Phil, to his entire satisfaction, had

+practically no social life. One or two of his fellow students found

+their way to the stable studio, envying him loudly when they viewed it,

+but for the most part he succeeded in keeping his castle to himself.

+Aunt Mary's easel found a good situation beneath the north light, and

+the evenings were spent in reading works calculated to help him on his

+way.

+

+Occasionally the satisfactoriness of his lamp or his easy-chair would

+cause him to start in a panic and begin to figure how long a time had

+elapsed since he had called on his benefactress; usually discovering

+that it was high time to go again.

+

+Frequently he declined invitations from Mrs. Fabian to dine, giving

+the excuse of incessant occupation. Once in a while, on the occasion

+of these duty calls, he saw Edgar, and the latter prided himself on

+the subtle implication of injury which he infused into the perfunctory

+courtesy of a host.

+

+Phil saw it, and, while he was amused, he gave Edgar some credit for

+not having carried out the threat to tell his mother how Phil had

+guarded her dignity with Eliza.

+

+"So there are some things too petty for him, after all," thought

+Phil carelessly; but he suspected and was grateful for Kathleen's

+intervention.

+

+When Edgar was not in evidence, Phil rather enjoyed an evening with his

+aunt. It gave him an opportunity to talk about his mother, and Mrs.

+Fabian could tell him events of their girlhood. She soon found that no

+occurrence in which Mary Sidney had figured was too trifling to bring

+the light of close attention into the young fellow's eyes.

+

+"Dear me," she said one night when they were alone together, and she

+had been entertaining him with reminiscence, "I wonder how your mother

+made you love her so."

+

+There was a sincere wistfulness in her tone that touched Phil.

+He laughed with some embarrassment, throwing a glance around the

+too-gorgeous room.

+

+"I don't believe she went for to do it," he said. "I contracted the

+habit early."

+

+"But Edgar was only five years old when I married his father," said

+Mrs. Fabian plaintively.

+

+"We didn't have any money," said Phil. "Perhaps that helped. Mother and

+I were pals, you see; had to be. She could afford only one maid."

+

+"It's true I was very, very busy," admitted Mrs. Fabian thoughtfully,

+with the return of her ever-ready tone of virtue. "I had the best

+nurses and governesses. They couldn't speak a word of English,--and I

+didn't neglect the children. I made it a point to hear them say their

+prayers every night that I wasn't going out."

+

+Phil's clasped finger tips were pressed to his lips and he did not

+reply to this. He admired Mrs. Fabian's exquisite costumes, and now he

+dropped his twinkling eyes to the hem of her gossamer gown.

+

+"How often do you write to your mother?" pursued Mrs. Fabian.

+

+"I'd be ashamed to tell you," he answered.

+

+She sighed. "It's beautiful," she declared; again wistful. "I suppose

+she has told you about our dear old dull island."

+

+"Brewster's Island? I don't remember her talking of it; but Eliza has

+spoken of my mother having been there."

+

+At the mention of her humble enemy Mrs. Fabian's nostrils dilated.

+"Eliza!" she repeated indignantly. "Every time I think of the impudence

+of that woman--" she paused, at a loss for words.

+

+"I suppose the island was named for Eliza's family," hazarded Phil.

+

+"I suppose so. You may call nearly every islander 'Brewster,' and

+seldom go wrong." Mrs. Fabian continued: "Edgar made a joke of the

+barrel affair, but Kathleen put on tragedy airs at the idea of my

+trying to get my own. Kathleen knows so much more than her mother, you

+understand. She knows so much more about everything than she will ten

+years from now. It's rather painful. Well, of course you didn't realize

+what you were doing in helping Eliza spirit the things away. I'm glad

+the creature has gone, for your sake. She would have been a dreadful

+bore to you as a part of Aunt Mary's legacy."

+

+"I feel very kindly toward Eliza," said Phil. Aunt Mary's letter was

+against his heart where it always lay. "She did too much for Aunt Mary

+for me ever to forget it."

+

+"But you didn't know Aunt Mary."

+

+"Not until she had gone. Then she revealed herself to me in a letter. I

+seem to have seen her at her patient work."

+

+"Yes, and Eliza has probably told you that I neglected her." Mrs.

+Fabian colored and looked at Phil defensively.

+

+"Yes," he answered simply.

+

+"It's a wonder she didn't make you hate me. I know what a virago the

+creature can be."

+

+"I like," said Phil,--"I like that saying, 'Yesterday is as dead as

+Egypt.' I like to feel that the only enemy a man can have is himself."

+

+"I'm glad you don't hate me, Phil," returned Mrs. Fabian, again

+plaintive. "I have enough troubles. 'Qui s'excuse, s'accuse,' and I

+shall not try to explain to you why I saw so little of Aunt Mary; but

+it is beyond belief that a common creature like Eliza should dare to

+sit in judgment on a person in my position."

+

+"Eliza is not a common creature," said Phil quietly.

+

+"I see. Her devotion is all you think of. We won't talk of her,

+then.--What are you going to do in the summer, Phil?"

+

+"Work!" he answered, smiling.

+

+"Not under that stable roof. I won't permit it."

+

+"Then I'll take the road. There's nothing I know better than how to be

+a tramp."

+

+At this juncture Mr. Fabian came in from his library. He was a

+smooth-shaven man, comfortably stout; and the stern lines on his

+forehead and about his mouth softened at sight of Phil, who rose to

+greet him.

+

+"What of the mine?" asked the newcomer, seating himself.

+

+"Oh, father's digging away," returned Phil. "He probably tells you more

+than he does me."

+

+Mr. Fabian drew his brows together.

+

+"Not sick of the picture business yet?" he asked, regarding the young

+man curiously.

+

+Phil shook his head and laughed. He knew Mr. Fabian's disapproval of

+his chosen profession.

+

+"I was just about telling Phil," said Mrs. Fabian, "that he must visit

+us at the island next summer."

+

+Mr. Fabian nodded cordially. "Care for sailing?" he asked.

+

+"I never had a chance to know. Horses and tramping and camping have

+given me all my outings so far."

+

+"Then you must come. We'll have a cruise. I've only a small yacht, for

+I prefer to run it myself with a few friends."

+

+"That sounds attractive, but I shan't indulge, I think."

+

+"Why, what sort of a painter is it who doesn't do marines?" asked Mrs.

+Fabian.

+

+"Yes, I know," returned Phil, smiling. "I'll do them at Coney Island."

+

+When he had taken his departure Mrs. Fabian turned to her husband.

+

+"Isn't it a shame," she said, "for a boy like that not to have any

+money?"

+

+"No," responded her husband. "It's in his favor. The shame is that a

+fine husky chap like that should give himself over to paint-pots. I'd

+make a position for him in the office if he'd come. I wish I had a son

+like that."

+

+When her husband made this sort of reference, Mrs. Fabian was glad that

+she was not Edgar's own mother; yet since she had known Phil she had

+never entirely escaped a consciousness that Mary Sidney would have bent

+the twig in Edgar's childhood in a manner to have produced a different

+inclination in the tree.

+

+As Christmas approached, Mrs. Fabian detained her son one evening as he

+was about to leave the house.

+

+"Edgar, you are always in such a hurry," she complained. "I never can

+catch you for a word except at table when the servants are about. Sit

+down for five minutes."

+

+The youth paused reluctantly. "I must keep my engagements," he said,

+shrugging his shoulders, "and since the Administration has shut down on

+my using the car at night, I have to live by my wits; in other words,

+sponge on other people's motors as much as possible."

+

+"You know, dear," said Mrs. Fabian, "your father didn't do that until

+we found, evening after evening, that we could never have the car

+ourselves. Somehow or other, Edgar, you manage very badly. You always

+rub your father the wrong way."

+

+Edgar's chest in his dress shirt rose very high. "I'm not the cringing,

+begging sort," he returned. "Unless a thing is offered me freely I

+don't care for it."

+

+In the last month he had affected a short, pointed mustache, and this

+he now twisted with a haughty air.

+

+Mrs. Fabian's sense of humor was latent, but she smiled now. "Sit

+down a minute, dear," she said. "It won't detain you, for you may use

+the car to-night. Your father has just 'phoned that he is obliged

+to attend a sudden meeting of directors, so I have to give up the

+opera--unless you will go with me?"

+

+Edgar regarded his mother's charming toilet appraisingly. "I don't

+mind," he said graciously, "if you will ask Mrs. Larrabee. I was going

+there to call to-night."

+

+Mrs. Fabian's brow clouded. "She is so conspicuous," she said

+persuasively; "I wish you didn't go there, Edgar. Why are all the men

+daft about her when there are so many sweet young girls so much better

+worth their attention?"

+

+"Shall I see if she is disengaged?" asked Edgar alertly. "If she cares

+to go I can come back and talk with you."

+

+"Oh, yes," Mrs. Fabian sighed resignedly; and Edgar disappeared,

+presently returning, a self-satisfied smile curving the little mustache.

+

+"She was gracious, evidently," remarked Mrs. Fabian.

+

+"Says she was saving this evening for me anyway, and will be

+delighted," said Edgar, seating himself. "She says she is glad it is a

+Caruso night, for she can prove to me that I ought to be on his side of

+the footlights."

+

+"That's the way she does it, is it?" returned Mrs. Fabian.

+

+"Oh, she means it," declared Edgar quickly. "She's the most sincere

+creature alive. Everybody knows that."

+

+"Where is Mr. Larrabee? I've never seen him yet. Does anybody see him?"

+

+"His clerks, I fancy," returned Edgar, with his careless, gleeful smile.

+

+"It's really a pity the woman's so well connected," said Mrs. Fabian.

+"She is insolently daring. Did you tell her you were taking me?"

+

+"I told her you were asking her to be so good as to accept an impromptu

+invitation; that you had but just found that you could go, yourself."

+

+Mrs. Fabian sighed again. "Well, Edgar, then I have earned a few

+minutes of your time. I'm going to give a dinner for you and Kathleen

+while she is at home for the holidays. I thought of Christmas night,

+with a little informal dance afterward; and I want you to help me

+decide on the list."

+

+"Mrs. Larrabee?" suggested Edgar, twisting his mustache complacently.

+

+"Certainly not," returned his mother, with energy. "This is to be

+just for your and Kathleen's young friends--a simple Christmas

+merry-making."

+

+"Couldn't you let me off?" asked Edgar, with his most blasé,

+man-of-the-world air.

+

+"Don't be absurd, Edgar Fabian. Have you no interest in helping to make

+your sister's holidays pleasant?"

+

+"My dear mother," protested the young man, "in order to make Kath's

+holidays pleasant, all you need to do is to give her a pair of blue

+spectacles for a Christmas gift, and invite a few Columbia professors

+to engage her in light conversation. If I should send her roses,

+she would only analyze them and reel off the learned names of their

+innards."

+

+"Very well; I am giving you an opportunity to suggest some names if you

+care to. Of course I shall ask Philip Sidney."

+

+Edgar shrugged again. "Do you suppose he has any evening clothes?"

+

+"And Kathleen suggested Violet Manning," went on Mrs. Fabian. "Do you

+remember Mrs. Wright's niece? Her life must be a dull one.

+

+"So it is to be a dinner party of derelicts," said Edgar; "a charity

+affair."

+

+"Kathleen is always thoughtful," said Mrs. Fabian reproachfully. "As

+it is to be on Christmas Day I don't know that trying to give pleasure

+to some people who don't have much usually would be so far out of the

+way. I'm not sure about Miss Manning myself. Kathleen has suggested

+once or twice that, as we saw quite a little of her at the island, it

+might be well to show her some courtesy here; but, as I say, I'm not

+quite sure. What I am sure of is that I will not allow you to speak of

+Philip Sidney slightingly in my presence."

+

+Edgar looked up in some surprise.

+

+"A derelict, indeed," she went on. "I wish I might ever hope to see

+you bring the look into your father's eyes that they hold when he sees

+Phil."

+

+"You choose a fine way to make me like him!" answered the youth; but

+beneath his carelessness was a twinge which proved that the words went

+home. "I remember Miss Manning now. She sailed with us a few times."

+

+"Yes, and she lives here with some girl students in a bachelor-maid

+way, and teaches--"

+

+"I remember the whole thing!" interrupted Edgar. "She dances."

+

+"What! The stage?" asked Mrs. Fabian.

+

+"No; some sort of school business; more on the gymnastic order. Of

+course, I remember her. She did a jig once on the boat."

+

+"Oh, I don't think we'd better ask her," exclaimed Mrs. Fabian hastily.

+

+"Yes, put her down," said Edgar. "If we're going into the charity

+business, I greatly prefer worthy girls who can jig; and for the rest,

+you and Kath fix it up. Christmas is a sort of a lost night anyway. I

+don't mind."

+

+And with this gracious cooperation Mrs. Fabian was fain to be content.

+Although she felt somewhat dubious about sending an invitation to

+Violet Manning, she concluded from the vivacity in Edgar's countenance,

+as memory awakened, that the purchase of his interest was worth the

+risk.

+

+Mrs. Fabian did not care for sailing, and she had but a vague memory

+of an inoffensive girl who arrived at the island as Mrs. Wright's

+niece. She hoped Miss Manning's propensity for jigging would not be the

+cause of any shock to the carefully nurtured buds who were Kathleen's

+friends.

+

+

+

+

+CHAPTER XIII

+

+CHRISTMAS

+

+

+It was shortly after this that a miniature riot broke out in the tiny

+apartment where Violet Manning and her two friends made a home; and it

+was on the subject of Christmas, too.

+

+The year before, Violet had spent the holidays with Mrs. Wright in

+Boston; but this year the loving letter which she now held in her hand

+invited her cordially not to come to the island.

+

+"I want to see my little girl," wrote Mrs. Wright, "but I would rather

+risk the sort of days you will spend among the many pupils who are sure

+to ask you than to let you take the expensive journey to the island, so

+bleak and cold as it is, and with nothing to repay you at this end but

+a hug from Aunt Amy."

+

+Violet read this aloud, and her two friends listened attentively.

+

+"I told you," said Roxana, the teacher and the eldest, "that Mrs.

+Wright wouldn't let you come. I shall stay here with you." She spoke

+firmly. Her face had the lines of one who always spoke firmly.

+

+"Then I shall stay, too", said Regina, the art-student.

+

+"Then you'll make me miserable, girls!" ejaculated Violet

+energetically, folding her letter back in its envelope. She was sitting

+on the table, a favorite perch not to be despised in that box of a room

+where she often said one must either be under the table or on it. She

+swung both her slippered feet and her blonde head. "Roxy--Rex--" she

+added beseechingly, "do you want to ruin my holidays?"

+

+"Rex can go, it's very foolish for her to talk about staying, when she

+can go sleighing in the country and study the shadows on the snow,"

+said Roxana.

+

+"What's the use of being a bachelor girl if you can't have any

+independence?" inquired Violet, her blue eyes, and full, pretty lips

+looking stormy.

+

+"The baby bachelor can't have everything she wants," said Roxana.

+"You're the baby bachelor. Rex may do approximately as she pleases,

+but I am the only one entirely independent. Rex still waves her hair.

+I stopped a year ago; just forgot it. That was the rubicon. Have you

+heard of the old colored mammy who deplored the failure of her dear but

+mature miss to marry? She said to her consolingly: 'Never mine, honey,

+I'se known some old maids who settled down right happy and contented

+when they stopped strugglin'.' I knew when I forgot to wave my hair

+that I'd stopped 'strugglin'." Roxana rocked gently. It was the only

+safe way to rock in that apartment. "So when that time comes, Violet,

+you will see that you have earned independence."

+

+"Oh, Rox, don't be so unkind," pleaded Violet. "I've had ever so many

+invitations for Christmas dinner from parents. I knew my small admirers

+slapped them into it, so I refused; but I give you my word that if you

+will go ahead with your Christmas plans, I will write to one of the

+most ardent, and Cinderella's coach will be nothing compared to the

+limousine that will be sent for me Christmas morning, and nothing will

+be lacking but the prince to make the story complete. If you don't

+promise, I'll sulk all the holidays, and I won't stay with you either.

+I'll go skating in the park."

+

+Roxana smiled meditatively.

+

+"Prince!" repeated Regina ecstatically. "That reminds me of mine

+again."

+

+"Oh, help!" exclaimed Violet. "I've reminded her of Mr.

+What's-his-name. Rex, if you'll promise to go ahead with your holiday

+doings, I'll let you tell us again how He came into the class-room

+first, and how He chose the best light, and how His sketches were

+always stunning, and how hard it was for you not to sketch Him instead

+of the model, and I'll let you show me the head you did of Him on the

+sly, and you shall tell us again how you plotted for an introduction

+and how you didn't get it, and--"

+

+"Oh, hush up," said Regina good-naturedly. "How about that Mr. Fabian

+you met at the island? How about the careless elegance of his manners?

+How about that wonderful, heartrending, angelic voice in which he sang

+on moonlight sails?"

+

+"Dear me!" said Violet, swinging her feet and smiling with mischievous

+eyes, "what a wonderful memory you have! I had forgotten all about him."

+

+"It shows what a superior being he considers himself that he has

+allowed you to," retorted Regina, with curling lip; "after the way he

+behaved at the island--"

+

+"I never said he behaved," interrupted Violet mildly.

+

+"Well, he kept on asking you to go, every time they sailed, and gave

+you every reason to think he was friendly."

+

+"That's summer friendship," returned Violet, but her cheeks took a

+deeper rose. The shoe pinched.

+

+"Well, it's settled," said Roxana. "Rex proceeds to the farm and

+studies snow shadows. I stay here, and sleep as late as I wish in the

+morning. Now, be calm, Violet. It isn't as if I had a home to go to.

+It wouldn't be all holiday to visit, and be on my best behavior, and

+not be sure which fork to use nor how large tips I ought to give the

+servants, nor--"

+

+"Nonsense!" interrupted Violet. "It will do you all the good in the

+world to sit down in the lap of luxury for a while; to live in large

+rooms, and drive in large motors, and eat large dinners, and lounge on

+large divans, and sleep in large beds; and you're going, Rex, you're

+going."

+

+There was something like tears in the stormy blue eyes, and Regina

+heard with relief the postman's whistle.

+

+"Go down and see if we have anything, will you, Violet? I'm fixed so

+comfortably, and it's nothing to hop off the table."

+

+Violet obeyed, and the other bachelors saw her press a very small

+handkerchief to her eyes as she went.

+

+"You'd better go, Rox," said Regina in a low tone. "I know just how she

+feels."

+

+"If it weren't for Christmas day I would; but I am sure Violet won't

+accept a pupil's hospitality for more than an hour, just so she can

+tell us she went; and the baby shan't spend Christmas eve and Christmas

+night alone. Even if she won't speak to me, I shall stay. It's the

+lesser of two evils. Honestly, I would enjoy a lazy time at home here

+with no papers to correct. The trouble is to get her to believe it."

+

+Here Violet returned; her face and bearing so laden with dignity that

+Roxana coughed lest she laugh. The baby bachelor handed a postcard to

+Regina, then took a very straight-backed chair. To sit on either of her

+customary thrones, the table or the floor, would be too much concession

+to her mutinous companions. She opened the letter in her hand, and

+as she read, a curious change altered her countenance. The wintry

+stiffness of her expression began to thaw. A springtime warmth appeared

+in her eyes, and, spreading to her lips, relaxed their corners. At last

+she looked up. The sparkle of summer seas shone in her glance.

+

+"You can go, girls," she said; "it is all right. Mrs. Fabian has asked

+me to dinner on Christmas, with a dance afterward and to spend the

+night. Now, then!" She challenged Roxana triumphantly.

+

+"How about Christmas eve?" inquired the latter inflexibly.

+

+"You tiresome old dear, the Settlement has a tree and I'll attend it,

+and spend the night with one of my class who is interested there."

+

+"Then I'll go," agreed Roxana mildly. "Fled is the rosy dream of

+sleeping till noon and watching you skate in the afternoons; and I will

+ask Mrs. McCabe across the hall to keep an eye on you."

+

+The invitation came as a welcome event to Philip Sidney as well. Aunt

+Isabel had been uniformly kind and motherly to him. The thought of a

+solitary Christmas, or one spent in a glittering restaurant, made him

+wince even with all the allurements of his easel and his books; so at

+last Mrs. Fabian received a grateful reply to a dinner invitation.

+

+The roses that came with his card on Christmas morning pleased her

+also, more than her extravagant gifts. While Phil was dressing he

+thought again of Kathleen. He had never seen her since the Sunday

+afternoon visit. He felt he could put up with Edgar's airs and graces

+through a dinner for the sake of seeing Kathleen again.

+

+"I wonder if she'll smoke a cigarette to-night," he thought, while he

+adjusted the dress tie he had bought for the occasion: adjusted it very

+carefully, for the tie was a unique possession. If he made a botch

+of it he could not go to the dinner. The girl never came to his mind

+except when her mother spoke of her; but now that he was to be her

+guest he recalled agreeably how womanly and sweet had been her manner

+to Eliza on that autumn day before the stable had turned into a studio.

+

+It was Kathleen who suggested sending the car for Violet. It was not

+the traditional Christmas of dry sparkling snow under a radiant moon,

+but a day of slush and clouds, and Kathleen was not of those owners of

+motors who believe that every one else has one, too. Her acquaintance

+with Violet was slight, but she knew she was a teacher and a very young

+one. She fancied that dollars were precious with her as yet.

+

+So Violet rolled up to the brown-stone house on Christmas evening in

+state, arrayed in her best and full of anticipation. Mrs. Wright's

+gift to her had been a small gold pendant holding a turquoise matrix,

+and this she wore on a slender chain around her throat, where it shone

+between the deep blue of her eyes and the pale blue of her gown.

+

+Kathleen's greeting to her had a ring of friendliness through its

+gentle formality. Violet's involuntary thought was that she might have

+been less formal, for, although there was nothing chilling in her

+manner, it seemed to suggest the difference between the bachelor maid

+doing light housekeeping in a hemmed-in apartment and the heiress of

+this stately mansion.

+

+Mrs. Fabian was kindly patronizing, and held Violet at her side that

+she might meet the other dinner guests.

+

+Edgar Fabian was one of the last to enter the drawing-room. Violet

+noted that he was not alone, but although his companion dwarfed him she

+saw no one but the well-set-up, exquisite youth with the shining hair

+who had been the companion of her moonlight sails. Her heart quickened

+and her color deepened.

+

+"I'm behaving exactly like Rex," she thought impatiently. Really there

+had been no reason why Edgar Fabian should take pains to find her in

+the city or show her any courtesy, after the return from the island,

+but in her heart of hearts she had expected he would; and it showed no

+proper pride in this same heart to give an undignified bound at the

+present juncture. What was the idiotic thing bounding for anyway?

+

+This query she put to it as Edgar approached his mother; and now Violet

+saw that his companion was a tall man whose evening clothes could not

+lessen the breadth of his shoulders, and whose poetic face was lighted

+with alert, observant eyes.

+

+Mrs. Fabian greeted the stranger warmly, and presented him to Violet as

+her nephew, Mr. Sidney; while Edgar's cool eyes swept the girl's face

+for a brief moment without recognition.

+

+"You remember Miss Manning, Edgar," said his mother; and then the

+sudden gleeful smile relieved the youth's face of its superciliousness.

+

+"What a difference feathers make to the bird, Miss Manning!" he

+ejaculated. "Upon my word, I think I must have believed you always wore

+a jolly little red sweater and hat. Weren't those corking sails we

+had? Awfully glad to see you again." And he bore Phil off to meet his

+friends.

+

+"I think, Miss Manning," said Mrs. Fabian impressively, "that in

+meeting my nephew you have seen a future celebrity. He is wonderfully

+talented."

+

+"How pleasant," murmured Violet, the idiot heart having given one

+record-breaking bound and then retired into its usual self-effacement.

+

+"Yes, he is a painter. Only a student as yet, of course. I think he has

+the sort of originality that longs to spread its wings and fly; but he

+holds himself down to foundation work in the most level-headed way."

+

+Violet's eyes followed the easy movements of the athletic figure.

+

+"Studying art, did you say?"

+

+"Yes."

+

+"I didn't quite get his name?"

+

+"Sidney. Philip Sidney."

+

+Stars began to twinkle in Violet's eyes at her sudden enlightenment.

+What would Rex say?

+

+Kathleen Fabian's observing eyes found time to follow Phil, too. He

+wore his dress clothes more like one accustomed to inhabit palaces than

+stables. She saw girlish eyes brighten as Edgar personally conducted

+the Westerner about the room. When she planned to sit next him at

+dinner, it had been with a thought of protection; as Edgar had been

+lavish of prophecies of the probable _gaucherie_ of the cowboy. She

+also had believed it quite likely that the mining engineer did not

+possess a dress suit; and Edgar had drawn cheerful pictures of the way

+his arms and legs would probably protrude from any which he might rent;

+but it was quite evident now that Phil had a good tailor and had not

+spent all his evenings in a mountain cabin.

+

+Kathleen had suggested to her brother that he be seated beside Violet

+Manning, as there would be no other man present whom she had ever seen,

+but Edgar vetoed that plan.

+

+"Let the two derelicts go in together," he had said. "I never did see

+any sense in this business of social philanthropy. Let the lonely

+people take care of each other. They will if you only have the

+cleverness to bring them together. Then you're spared all the boredom

+yourself, and kill two birds with one stone."

+

+"My dear," his mother had said, "Miss Manning is an orphan, alone in

+the city, and you were quite friendly with her at the island--"

+

+"Yes, but I don't want to talk about the island all the evening. There

+are some widows I would consider; but when it comes to orphans--orphan

+teachers--count me out."

+

+He smiled the gleeful smile, and Kathleen sighed, and allotted him to

+the maiden of his choice; one who knew and hated the enthralling Mrs.

+Larrabee, and who, he averred, had enough "pep" not to bore him.

+

+Violet had somehow expected to be placed with Edgar at dinner, and

+argue with herself as she would, the surprise of finding herself with

+a stranger instead gave her the sensation of a slight; but she was

+cheery and natural, and her escort, a youth with long lashes and a

+sallow complexion, found the sea-blue eyes intelligent and sympathetic

+repositories for his mournful rhapsodies upon Kathleen Fabian's charms.

+

+She was sitting across the table from them beside Philip Sidney.

+Aqua-marines glistened water-blue about her bare throat, and filmy

+lace clung to her satin shoulders. Her simple coiffure was in contrast

+to the puffs and curls that danced airily on the other girlish heads.

+Kathleen's was straight hair, but fine, thick, and lustrous. The

+simplicity of her aspect gave one to know that with her "the colors

+seen by candlelight" would look the same by day.

+

+"It isn't every one who understands Miss Fabian," the long lashes

+announced to Violet, with the implication that he was in the inner

+circle. "She's what I call a subtle girl--a mysterious girl. Those

+jewels suit her. That liquid, elusive play of light, as the moonlight

+sparkles on the water, is like her moods, gentle, and--and remote. I

+often think Miss Fabian lives in a world of her own. One can't always

+be sure that she hears what one is saying."

+

+"I know her very little," returned Violet, "but she does seem a very

+thoughtful girl."

+

+"Who is that chap with her?--the big fellow?"

+

+"That is her cousin, Mr. Sidney."

+

+"Her cousin? I never saw him before."

+

+"I fancy he's not a New Yorker," said Violet. "He is here studying art."

+

+"H'm," ejaculated Long-Lashes. "He doesn't look the part. He doesn't

+wear artistic hair."

+

+"No," agreed Violet. "There is no studied disorder in his appearance.

+Miss Fabian seems to hear everything _he_ says," she added demurely;

+"and why, if he is her cousin, does she call him Mr. Sidney?"

+

+Long-Lashes, who had looked cheered at the information of relationship,

+gloomed again.

+

+"I'm sure I have it right," went on Violet. "Mrs. Fabian told me he was

+her nephew."

+

+"Oh," returned her companion, "but Mrs. Fabian is Kathleen's

+step-mother." He looked across at the pair anxiously. "She has adopted

+him, though, that's evident. Her wits haven't gone wool-gathering since

+we sat down."

+

+When the young people returned to the drawing-room they found a

+charming transformation had taken place. The spacious floor was bare,

+garlands of evergreen, holly, and mistletoe were wreathed in all

+possible positions, and a majestic Christmas tree sparkling with the

+tiny electric bulbs of these sophisticated days stood in a recess. Its

+boughs were gay with favors for a german.

+

+An orchestra, concealed behind palms in the hall, played a Christmas

+carol as the couples entered.

+

+"There are Christmas fairies even in Gotham," said Phil to Kathleen.

+"Ah," he thought, "poverty may be no disgrace, but what a convenience

+is money!" "Before we go any further," he added aloud, "I want to thank

+you, Miss Fabian, for the honor you paid the stranger in a strange land

+by allowing me to take you out to dinner. I want you to know that I

+appreciate it in a gathering of your own friends."

+

+Kathleen's calm eyes met his. She was glad he could not know that she

+had expected to champion his crude appearance in a gathering where

+clothes went far to make the man.

+

+"I never thought of doing anything else," she returned; then added,

+smiling, "You know I owed you hospitality."

+

+"Brave girl," returned Phil, "to dare to refer to that ill-starred day.

+I should never have had the courage."

+

+"Do you ever hear from Eliza?" asked Kathleen.

+

+"I received one letter after her arrival. It was mostly about her cat,

+Pluto. She said he acted like an imp of darkness."

+

+"Why wouldn't he--saddled with that name?" returned Kathleen.

+

+Phil watched the aqua-marines sparkle and dissolve on the whiteness of

+her neck.

+

+"Your mother did to my stable what the brownies have done here while we

+were dining. Did she tell you?"

+

+"She told me she bought you a few things."

+

+"That is a modest way to put it. Will you come to tea with her some

+day this week and see for yourself?"

+

+"I shall be glad to. I've not been able to remember you as being very

+comfortable."

+

+The carol ceased. The odor of evergreen was fresh as the forest itself.

+The orchestra began a waltz.

+

+"I wonder if he can dance," thought Kathleen, in her ignorance of the

+West. The evening clothes were promising but she had her doubts of

+Terpsichore west of the Rockies. She little knew that in dress clothes

+or sweater the cowboy leads the world in dancing.

+

+The music was irresistible and in a moment she was floating away in the

+waltz.

+

+"Dear me!" she thought with a mixture of consternation and

+satisfaction. "I've taken the best of everything!"

+

+Edgar cast a glance after them. "A duck to the water," he thought.

+A touch of nature makes the whole world kin; and when Phil arrived

+to-night, that unique dress tie of his had suffered damage from his

+overcoat. Edgar with lofty hospitality had supplied the lack. It had

+given him a foretaste of self-satisfaction as patron of the arts, and

+he now felt quite benevolently glad to find that Phil was not going

+to entangle Kathleen's feet, as he sailed off with his own partner,

+humming the waltz in her appreciative ear.

+

+Long-Lashes danced as he talked, with poetic meditation. Violet had no

+objection to him, but she was conscious of Edgar's every movement. If

+he did not ask her for the next dance she would not give him any, even

+if she had to sprain her ankle.

+

+However, the catastrophe was averted, because he did ask her for the

+second, and, joy of joys, she could not give it to him; for as she

+and Long-Lashes crept near Kathleen and Phil during the waltz, Phil,

+prompted by his partner, raised his eyebrows in a request.

+

+"The next, Miss Manning?"

+

+She nodded assent; and so it was that Edgar took the third; and as soon

+as he joined her asked her opinion of Phil's dancing.

+

+"Of course you're authority," he added tactfully, as they started.

+

+"Oh, I quite forgot shop while I was with him," said Violet coolly;

+"beside, I don't teach ballroom dancing."

+

+Edgar suspected that he had, in his own language, put his foot in it;

+so he used his universal panacea and sang the waltz in his partner's

+ear.

+

+"Pretty, isn't it? Say, you can dance, Miss Manning, if you don't know

+how to teach it. Watch me favor you in the german."

+

+"Mr. Sidney is a perfect dancer," she said.

+

+"He looks it. I'm mighty glad he doesn't fall all over himself. He's a

+trifle too big to make that safe; and being a wild Westerner I didn't

+know just what he would do. Do you ever do a jig nowadays?"

+

+"Occasionally--in the way of business."

+

+"Say," exclaimed Edgar with enthusiasm, as he led her safely among the

+thickening couples, "would you do one to-night if I clear the floor?"

+

+"Certainly not," returned Violet, laughing.

+

+"But you did at the island."

+

+"I only jig on a vessel's deck," said the girl.

+

+"And I have to wait till next summer?"

+

+"Poor, poor fellow!" Violet's eyes looked up into his pathetically.

+He had forgotten what very nice eyes they were, and what jolly little

+stars danced in their depths.

+

+"I'd like to clog, and I believe I'd be a good one. Do you teach it?"

+

+"Yes."

+

+"Then I'll enter the class!" declared Edgar with enthusiasm.

+

+"You're just a tiny bit over-age," said Violet. "Fifteen's the limit."

+

+"Then I'll come to your home, that's what I'll do. I'll take private

+lessons."

+

+"Impossible. There's no place to clog there except on the table."

+

+"But that's what I should prefer to any other place."

+

+"I'll teach you next summer," said Violet, "and take my pay in song."

+

+"That's proverbially cheap," said Edgar.

+

+"Yes, '_a_ song,' perhaps," returned Violet, "but I shall exact dozens."

+

+Edgar tossed his head with the gleeful smile.

+

+"It's a bargain," he declared.

+

+

+

+

+CHAPTER XIV

+

+SPRING

+

+

+Spring came all too soon for Philip after his gloriously solitary and

+absorbed winter.

+

+One Saturday morning, even from his sunless north window, it proclaimed

+itself and would not be denied. The tint of the sky, the scanty

+glimpses of waving green, and the jubilant song of birds in the park,

+all spoke of the annual miracle.

+

+"Just the day for a sketch," thought Phil, and buttoning his collar, he

+went to the head of the stairs and called Pat.

+

+"Here," responded the Irishman, "and sure I wish it was there, thin."

+

+"Where's that?"

+

+"Annywhere in the country-side where I couldn't see a pavement the day."

+

+"Just what I was thinking, Pat. I'm going to borrow the key to the park

+again. I wonder if you'd go over to Streeter's on Fourth Avenue for me.

+You remember the place you bought the framed Madonna for your sister.

+I'd like you to get a package of materials they were to have sent me

+yesterday. I don't want to miss a minute of this weather for a sketch,

+and I can be making my coffee while you're gone."

+

+"Sure I will. I've got to go that way for a pair o' boots annyway."

+

+"If I get a good sketch," called Phil after him, "you may look at it

+for nothing."

+

+Pat was privately not at all sure that it would be worth looking at,

+even if the artist thought it good. He had seen a number of Phil's

+efforts which looked like nothing to him, and the artist's explanation

+that they were merely impressions did not bring them within Pat's

+comprehension as being worth the paper they spoiled. Nevertheless his

+devotion to the artist was steadfast and he hastened on his errand.

+

+Phil ate his breakfast, and primed two canvases for the Monday pose.

+Then his Streeter package having arrived, he hurriedly transferred a

+few pieces of charcoal and some pans of water-color to his sketch-box,

+and was off down the stable steps into the mellow light of spring, the

+park key in his hand.

+

+"What a morning!" he thought, as he passed through the gate and

+snapped the lock after him. At different times when he had visited

+this enclosure with his scratch-pad, he had made mental notes of

+advantageous points for sketching, and he now moved straight to a

+chosen spot.

+

+The gravel path winding between the patches of fresh spring green

+crunched under his feet and reminded him of the tar and pebble roof he

+had put on a barn in Montana. How different this life! How glorious! If

+only his mother could sit beside him while he sketched this morning.

+

+The day was joyous as his spirit, and the park was soon alive with

+children and their capped and aproned nurses, truly distinguished in

+their right of eminent domain, while outside the hedges and railings

+sauntered those with no proprietary rights in Gramercy Park. A child

+often peeped through the fence at coveted dandelions, like a little

+peri at the gates of paradise.

+

+Phil worked away, paying no attention to the more inquisitive

+youngsters who dared from a well-bred distance to stretch and strain

+for a look at what was being done in art.

+

+He was hastily washing in a soft rose grey that was eventually to take

+the form of several charming old brick houses. They had dormer windows

+above and fascinating iron grilled balconies with long drawing-room

+windows and great masses of spring flowers growing in front of the

+basements.

+

+Philip was working with an intensity of interest and absorption, and

+suddenly he threw a quantity of color and water from his brush with a

+quick backward motion which sent a flood over one of the youngsters who

+had ventured quite near. A shout of glee went up from the others of the

+group and he turned quickly to see what had happened, just as a girl,

+not capped or aproned, seized the little color-target, and wiped the

+moisture from the boy's face with her handkerchief.

+

+"You, Miss Manning!" cried the artist, "and I can't spare time to rise

+and fall on my knees in apology."

+

+"Ernest is the one who should apologize," said Violet, laughing, "but

+you know an artist out of doors is common property."

+

+"Of course," returned Phil, washing away industriously. "Come here,

+little chap. I'm sorry I doused you. Come and see what I'm doing--no,

+not the rest of you. I can't have a heavy weight on my sword arm."

+

+Upon this, Ernest, who had been scarlet under his companions'

+amusement, gave them a glance of superiority and moved to Phil's side.

+

+"What's that?" he asked, pointing to the object in the sketch which had

+been the cause of the present smooches on his blouse.

+

+"What?" asked Phil encouragingly.

+

+"That big tall thing that looks kind of rough, like a rock or

+something."

+

+"Why, that's the Metropolitan Tower. See it there over those roofs?"

+Phil directed the boy's gaze with his brush-handle.

+

+"Doesn't look much like it, does it?"

+

+"Oh, you wait and see."

+

+"Are those going to be trees there?"

+

+"Yes; and those spots are going to be filled with red and pink and

+yellow and white. You know what a tulip is? Those are the tulip beds."

+

+Ernest leaned comfortably against the green park bench. "What are you

+going to make the picture for?"

+

+"Enough questions," said Violet brightly. She was standing away a

+little, but mounting guard over her small charge and taking notes of

+the sketch for the benefit of Rex. Now she stepped forward and took the

+child's hand with intent to lead him away; but Phil looked smiling at

+the boy, and said:--

+

+"I'm going to try to paint this picture so that when any one studies it

+he will get its message and feel as I do to-day."

+

+The child looked back into the man's eyes, and discerned a fellow child.

+

+"Is it your birthday?" he asked gravely.

+

+Phil laughed softly. "I shouldn't wonder," he answered. "What made you

+think so?"

+

+"You look happy--and you said--" the boy didn't finish, and Phil nodded.

+

+"Did you ever see a chrysalis, Ernest? Well, I think I've been

+expanding all winter. I feel sort of wingy this morning. This is a good

+sort of day for a chrysalis to burst, don't you think so? Perhaps this

+_is_ my birthday and you guessed it before I did."

+

+"Come, Ernest, we must go," said Violet, smiling. "We're a load on the

+butterfly's wings."

+

+"Do you live here in the park, Miss Manning?"

+

+"No. I spent last night with a friend here, and one of the maids fell

+ill, so Ernest and I thought we could walk about a bit and smell the

+lilacs."

+

+"I don't want to go away," said Ernest. "I like to see him paint."

+

+"Just move some of that paraphernalia from the end of the bench and sit

+down, can't you, Miss Manning?" suggested Phil. "I piled it there in

+self-defence, but it's for show. Keep away from my arm, old man, and

+you may watch me all you like."

+

+"Come here, Ernest, you can see just as well," and Violet, seating

+herself, drew the child against her knee.

+

+The scent of moist lilacs was in the air.

+

+"There's a robin," cried Ernest--"oh, two! Look."

+

+"Quiet, don't frighten them," said Violet, as the bright-eyed birds ran

+beneath the bushes.

+

+"Put them in, won't you, Mr.----" began the child eagerly.

+

+"That is Mr. Sidney, Ernest," said Violet. "It is time you were

+introduced and this is Ernest Tremaine, Mr. Sidney."

+

+"I'll make you a sketch of the robin in a minute."

+

+One of the birds ran toward the seated group, and stood a moment, proud

+and high-chested, his sleek head gleaming in the sun. Phil laughed to

+himself as his busy hand worked.

+

+"What are you laughing at?" asked the little boy.

+

+"Cock robin. He reminded me of somebody I know. Don't you think he

+looks very pleased with his red vest and his smooth feathers?"

+

+"Yes," replied the child. "Perhaps it's his birthday, too." He laughed,

+delighted that his big friend was amused.

+

+"Perhaps; and see there! He has found a birthday present."

+

+The robin had suddenly pounced upon a worm and was digging it from its

+earthy stronghold.

+

+Violet had to put her hand over the child's mouth to still his mirth.

+The bird was sitting on his tail, claws dug in the ground as he leaned

+back, dragging at his prey.

+

+"How good of the robins to stray away from Central Park, and bring

+spring to all these little places," said Violet. "I heard one last

+night. Perhaps this is the very fellow. Their notes always make me

+think of links in a chain, link after link, alike, yet so fresh.

+Wouldn't it be great, Ernest, if this pair are hunting for a place to

+build here, and would take a tree that you could see from your windows,

+and you could watch them with an opera-glass?"

+

+"Do you think they will?" The child looked up into the golden-green of

+tender new leaves through which the mellow light was sifting.

+

+"We must ask them to hurry up," said Violet, "before the foliage grows

+heavy and makes it hard to watch them."

+

+"What news from the island, Miss Manning?" asked Phil.

+

+"Oh, spring is peeping in on them, too, once in a while. Aunt Amy says

+their hill will soon be white with strawberry blossoms, and blue with

+violets."

+

+"And what of my friend, Eliza Brewster? I believe you told me you have

+never seen her."

+

+"Aunt Amy always speaks of her in her letters. She has been a great

+comfort to them, so helpful and kind."

+

+"Mrs. Fabian will have it that I am to see this wonderful island."

+

+"You should go. It would be paradise for an artist."

+

+"And how about yourself?" asked Phil. "You also have an aunt and a home

+on that green mound I hear about."

+

+"Oh, I'm going for the whole summer," replied Violet. "I had two weeks

+last year, and it created an inordinate appetite."

+

+"Then you knew the Fabians there."

+

+"Yes, a little. In two weeks one doesn't make much headway with a girl

+like Kathleen."

+

+"Is she difficult for a girl, too?" asked Phil.

+

+"Oh, yes--at least for a new girl. She reminds me of a series of locked

+doors. You succeed in unlocking one, and the small room within merely

+leads to another door. You must strive to unlock that, and you succeed

+only to find another waiting. Such wholesome, clean, airy rooms, but

+small--always small. She is fascinating to me, perhaps for that very

+reason. Did you ever notice that even her hair is reserved?"

+

+Phil smiled, as his busy hand worked. "Christmas night is the only time

+I ever saw her with her hat off," he answered. "I'm afraid you're too

+subtle for me."

+

+"Oh, you'll see," said Violet; "an artist couldn't help seeing in the

+daytime. What color do you think it is?"

+

+"Dark brown."

+

+"I knew you would say that. Wait till you see her in the sunshine. It's

+almost red; and that's just like her. Even her hair keeps everything to

+itself as long as it can."

+

+Phil laughed. "Quite different from brother, eh?"

+

+"You mean that he is frank?" asked Violet, with a perceptible

+indrawing of her own frankness.

+

+"Well, that's a mild word for it," answered Phil. "I don't know Edgar's

+family crest, but the inscription should read, freely translated, 'I

+give myself away.'"

+

+The speaker laughed at his own folly, and glanced up for sympathy. The

+baby bachelor's full lips were grave and her eyes a little dark.

+

+"I like people to be frank," she said briefly.

+

+Phil drew his own lips together in a noiseless whistle and his eyes

+twinkled at the Metropolitan Tower in the sketch.

+

+"Keep off the grass," he mused. "I thought you said reserve fascinated

+you," he remarked aloud, mildly.

+

+"One thing I don't like Mr. Fabian to reserve," said Violet, "and that

+is his voice."

+

+"Great, isn't it?" agreed Phil. "I was glad he sang for us Christmas

+night."

+

+"Oh, I supposed you had heard him many times. If he were my cousin I

+would give him no rest."

+

+"He's not mine, you see. I'm only a step-relation, and such a long

+step!"

+

+Violet bit her lip and looked at the speaker reflectively. She felt

+there was no rhyme or reason in his amused expression.

+

+"Then, that is why you haven't seen Miss Kathleen's hair in the

+daylight," she said. "Have you discovered her locked doors?"

+

+"She let me into her ballroom, at Christmas, and I think I must have

+been so pleased with that I didn't try to get any further."

+

+"I see," returned Violet. "Well, if you go to the island you'll have a

+chance to explore. Of course your experience with her may be different

+from mine. Perhaps an artist will have the open sesame to her doors.

+I'm not a bit intellectual. I have to dance my way into people's

+confidence, or I don't get there."

+

+"I hear you teach that very pretty art."

+

+"She teaches me," put in Ernest, who was tired of being left out of the

+conversation. "I can dance a jig."

+

+"Bully for you," said Phil. "Go ahead, right here on the path."

+

+"Oh, I can't without any music."

+

+"There's the music." Phil pointed with his brush-handle to a lofty

+branch where the robin was pouring forth linked sweetness, long

+drawn-out.

+

+"The pebbles are too rolly," said the child. "You said you'd make me a

+picture of the robin."

+

+"So I did."

+

+Phil pulled toward him another block of paper and swiftly washed in the

+green of the lilac bush and its purple pendants. Before it, on a little

+stretch of green sward, grew the robin, high-chested, alert.

+

+"How proud he looks!" said the child, delighted.

+

+"Yes, he is saying: 'I own the earth, and the worms therein.'" The

+artist laughed to himself. "'If a worm shows his head, I gobble him up!

+and I can sing as beautifully as I gobble. The world stops to watch and

+listen. I am cock robin! Look at me!'"

+

+Artist and child laughed together as Phil handed over the wet sketch

+to the eager little hands. Violet's eyes were glued to it. She was

+wondering if later she could make a surreptitious purchase of it for

+Rex.

+

+"I had heard of you before Christmas," she said. "One of my housemates

+goes to your art school. Regina Morris."

+

+Phil shook his head. "I've not met any of the girls. Are you a

+housekeeper?"

+

+"Three of us live together in a tiny apartment. I wish you might come

+to see us sometime."

+

+Phil looked up with his frank smile. "I'll call on you at the island if

+you'll let me, and if I come--that last is such a big If, though Mrs.

+Fabian is determined."

+

+"Oh, then you'll go. I've seen enough of Mrs. Fabian to know that."

+

+"Then it must be but for a week or two. I mustn't stay where I can't

+work."

+

+"You'll stay," nodded Violet. "You'll live under a rock if necessary

+and catch fish for food."

+

+"Are you so enthusiastic?"

+

+"Isn't everybody?"

+

+"Nobody, that I have heard. Eliza spoke of it like facing grim death.

+Edgar says it gives him the 'Willies,' whatever they may be. Aunt

+Isabel goes because her husband wants to sail."

+

+"Did Mr. Fabian say it gave him the 'Willies'?" asked Violet, her

+cheeks rose and her eyes dark again. "Why does he go, then?"

+

+"I didn't ask him; but a bare hill lying in a wet fog doesn't sound

+inviting even if one may occasionally catch a glimpse of the sea. You

+know the sea and I are strangers."

+

+"Did Kathleen talk to you about it?" asked Violet, the hurt spot

+in her pride still smarting, as memory showed her pictures of waves

+sparkling in moonlight, and song that turned the scene into enchantment.

+

+"No, I believe we never mentioned the summer. She talked to me of

+college and I talked to her of my one dissipation of the autumn,

+an evening over there at the Players' Club,"--Phil nodded over his

+shoulder toward the club windows,--"and the wit and wisdom I heard."

+

+"I judge you have friends in the park," said Violet.

+

+"Yes, I have a work-room over here," replied Phil vaguely. His wits

+were about him when he contemplated the disconcerting possibility of

+Ernest's sturdy little legs finding their way up his stable stair.

+

+"I want to show this to mother," said the child, gloating over his

+sketch. Phil had used no anæmic colors in that. The lilacs were of a

+generous purple, the robin's vest a royal red. When he had thanked

+the artist and they had parted, Ernest prattled of his treasure as he

+walked on beside Violet.

+

+"He's a proud bird," he said, half-soliloquizing after his kind. "He

+wants the world to listen when he sings; and his eyes are so bright,

+when he sees a worm coming along he gobbles him quick, and then he

+looks prouder than ever."

+

+Violet's thoughts were busy, and somewhat gloomy. Edgar had spoken

+patronizingly to her of the big Western artist who had fallen into

+their family circle.

+

+Of whom was Phil thinking that gave him so much amusement while he

+sketched the robin?

+

+Violet was not sure whether her mental disturbance was more resentment

+toward the artist, or hurt that Edgar Fabian should declare that he had

+been bored at the island.

+

+

+

+

+CHAPTER XV

+

+JUNE

+

+

+During the long winter a strong bond of friendship grew between Mrs.

+Wright and Eliza Brewster. The latter's broken heart seemed to heal in

+the very act of caring for the exiled lady, and in the consolation of

+knowing that her own familiarity with the island, and with all domestic

+cares, gave daily return for the unspeakable benefit of her home.

+

+Upon Mr. Wright she looked from the first with a reflective and

+judicial eye. He was Mrs. Wright's husband, and that fact made Eliza

+rigidly careful to do her duty by him; but mentally she classified the

+adopted islander as a lazy man who had all his days been looking for

+a soft spot and who had been irresistibly drawn to the freedom and

+irresponsibility of a life which permitted him to wear a négligée shirt

+during the semi-hibernation of the winter, and made no demands upon him

+beyond an occasional arising, by request, from the lounge to shovel

+snow-paths and bring in fuel, and at evening to play checkers with

+Captain James until an early bedtime.

+

+He liked Eliza's cooking and her nimble, quiet ways, and externally

+they were at peace; but Captain James's shrewd eyes often read Eliza's

+suppressed impatience. One spring morning, when he met her in the

+island road, he attempted a mild protest in favor of the master of the

+house.

+

+"Mr. Wright's a clever feller," he said argumentatively. "What's wrong

+with him, Eliza?"

+

+"What have I said about him?" she snapped.

+

+"Don't you suppose I got eyes?" asked Captain James.

+

+Eliza was startled. She must put even greater guard upon herself.

+

+"Now, I ain't a-goin' to talk about him, James. I s'pose it's all right

+for a great hulk of a man to own a dainty city woman and take her away

+from her friends and mew her up on a snow-bank to suit his convenience."

+

+"What you goin' back on the island for?" inquired Captain James.

+

+"I ain't goin' back on it. I'm island folks. I find there is something,

+after all, in this talk about native air."

+

+"It's treated you all right," agreed the other, regarding her

+countenance critically. "You've dropped off five years this winter.

+Come summer you'll shed ten more, like enough, and look like you ought

+to look, Eliza. You ain't any old woman."

+

+Eliza ignored the blandishment.

+

+"I can see in the glass I look better," she returned impersonally, "and

+it makes me mad to think it's all because I live in the house with a

+sacrifice. Supposin' I'd come back to this island alone."

+

+"Mrs. Wright don't act like any sacrifice," protested Captain James;

+"she's chipper as a canary bird."

+

+"Of course she is. That's the kind of a wife a man like that's sure to

+get. It's been my lot in life, James, to live with angels," added Eliza

+fiercely. "Can you tell me why I should be just as cantankerous as

+ever?"

+

+Captain James laughed. "Mebbe there's as much truth in that talk about

+original sin as there is about native air," he returned. "You always

+was a limb, Eliza."

+

+She smiled reluctantly. "I warned her before I came," she returned,

+grave again. "I told her I was bad, and _set_."

+

+"But you couldn't scare her, eh?"

+

+"Nobody could do that. She ain't afraid of anything above ground. 'T

+ain't fear makes her yield to Lazy-Bones there; and when she sets out

+to make him do something he don't want to, she gets him every time."

+Eliza's eyes wandered to a cottage by the roadside. "There's Betsy

+Eaton watchin' us. I expect she's wonderin' why we're standin' in the

+wet so long. Well, I've blown off steam and I'll run home. I s'pose

+you'll be comin' up to-night to move those little pieces o' wood

+around."

+

+"Sure thing, Eliza," returned Captain James with a grin. "Lemme teach

+you the game so you can play it with him times when I don't come."

+

+In the speaker's own parlance he was trying to "get a rise" out of his

+old friend; and he succeeded. Eliza's eyes flashed almost with the fire

+of youth.

+

+"I'd throw 'em at him. I know I would--every checker of 'em."

+

+"Well, he'll be fishin' again soon," laughed Captain James soothingly,

+"now his new boat's about done."

+

+"H'm!" grunted Eliza; and with no other form of farewell, she started

+to trudge up the hill toward home. The earth was moist and yielding;

+the chill spring was here, and nature was drawing her green paint-brush

+over the high wave of the bluff. Little star-flowers bloomed under her

+energizing kisses, and shivered bravely when the east wind blew.

+

+This morning the sun fell with sufficient warmth on the stone step for

+Pluto to lie there, and blink at the first sparrow he had seen. On the

+whole, Eliza's move away from New York had his entire approval. The

+change from the restrictions of a city flat to this place was in itself

+a delight, and far from agreeing with Eliza's estimation of the master

+of the house he found him quite the most sensible human being he had

+ever encountered. One who appreciated a soft lounge when he saw it, and

+who always made room for a cat, and never disturbed his slumbers with

+precipitate movement. Eliza watched their growing intimacy with grim

+amusement.

+

+"Birds of a feather flock together," was frequently her mental comment.

+

+As the spring unfolded, and the early mornings were less chill, Mr.

+Wright again took up his suspended practice of making sunrise visits

+to his pond. At first Pluto considered this a foolish practice; but

+at last he learned to connect it with attractive pieces of fish which

+came his way, and again he paid tribute of admiration to the hand which

+always discriminated so nicely just which point back of his ears should

+be scratched in order to establish the most friendly relations.

+

+Eliza's threat that he should reside in the chicken-house had come to

+naught, for it had required but a few days for Pluto to recover from

+the savagery to which his novel contact with Mother Earth at first

+reduced him; and he again became a domestic animal full of content in

+the equally novel petting which now fell to his share.

+

+One day Eliza with amused memory of her childish terrors pushed open

+the door of the forlorn chicken-house, and looked in; but one look was

+enough. She closed it again quickly on the dirt and cobwebs. Its small

+windows were opaque with the dust of years. It was almost picturesque

+with its leaking roof which had once been red, huddling close to earth

+under the protection of those hardy old warriors, the balm-of-Gilead

+trees.

+

+"If 'twas mine," mused Eliza, as she withdrew from the dirt and damp of

+the close interior, "I'd clean it with a good fire. It's hopeless."

+

+A sparrow lit on the despised roof, and poured a song toward the sea.

+

+"That's so," said Eliza looking up at the tiny creature with a smile.

+"It _is_ spring. It's a wonder to be in a place where there ain't one

+o' your English cousins."

+

+She turned and nearly trod on Pluto. His green eyes were fixed on the

+bird. His lithe body crouched in the fresh grass and quivered along its

+length in the intensity of his upward gaze.

+

+"Pluto Brewster!" she exclaimed in desperation. "Supposin' you ever

+should catch a bird up here!" She stooped and boxed his ears. He laid

+them back and, blinking the eager eyes, crouched lower.

+

+Mrs. Wright on her doorstep saw Eliza approaching, the cat under her

+arm.

+

+"He was lookin' at a sparrow," announced Eliza.

+

+Mrs. Wright laughed. "I've heard that a cat may look even at a king,"

+she said.

+

+"If Pluto should kill birds!" exclaimed his owner desperately.

+

+"Would you, little tiger?" asked Mrs. Wright, closing her hand over

+the cat's face and giving it a little shake.

+

+Pluto was beginning to consider that women were a sad mistake. He

+struggled to get free and Eliza dropped him.

+

+"How the spring has stolen past us," said Mrs. Wright. "Do you realize

+Eliza that even June is moving on its way? Look over there at the

+Fabian cottage."

+

+"Why that's James out on the veranda."

+

+"Yes, he has had a letter from Mrs. Fabian. She wants him to open the

+house. To-day is Kathleen Fabian's Commencement."

+

+"That's so," said Eliza coolly. "You showed me the invitation."

+

+"It was rather nice of her to remember me, way off here, and little as

+I know them."

+

+"I guess Kathleen would be an agreeable enough girl if she was let

+alone," said Eliza.

+

+She had for some time now given up anxiety lest the high words over the

+barrel in Phil's studio bear bad fruit for him; for a letter had set

+her mind at rest on that score, and she felt instinctively that she had

+Kathleen Fabian to thank for that.

+

+"But any girl would be slow to cut off friendly relations with a feller

+like Mr. Sidney," she considered, prejudice still holding her in a

+strong grasp.

+

+"So they're comin'," said Eliza, in a lifeless voice. The winter had

+been very happy. She began to long for the fall.

+

+"Yes, very soon."

+

+"Is your niece comin' with 'em?"

+

+"No; she will keep busy until July." Mrs. Wright drew a deep breath.

+

+"Oh, how lovely this is, Eliza," she went on. "This morning makes me

+think of Stopford Brooke's lines,--

+

+    'A little sun, a little rain,

+    A soft wind blowing from the West--

+    And woods and fields are sweet again,

+    And the warmth within the mountain's breast.'

+

+Our mountain--what a height we should see we had if that sea could roll

+back; we can feel the warmth in its breast this morning, and the lovely

+miracles it is putting forth. Why don't you look happier, Eliza?"

+Mrs. Wright smiled as she asked the question. Her friend's eyes were

+gloomily following the movements of Captain James in the distance as he

+beat rugs on the grass beside the boulder cottage.

+

+"I guess you know why," rejoined Eliza briefly.

+

+"The idea of letting anybody rob you of your happiness," said Mrs.

+Wright. "I shall have to put Marcus Aurelius side of your bed so you

+can read him before you go to sleep. I thought you were more of a

+philosopher, Eliza."

+

+"You ain't half through your disappointments in me yet," returned Eliza

+drily.

+

+"Ho!" exclaimed Mrs. Wright, resting her hand on the shoulder of her

+companion as she stood a step below her. "I haven't begun on them yet."

+

+"Just s'posin'," said Eliza, looking about at the fair prospect, "that

+Mrs. Ballard could be with us to see the summer comin'. How comfortable

+we'd make her!"

+

+"I don't believe she'd come," said Mrs. Wright gently, "as much as she

+loves us."

+

+"That's what he said," returned Eliza musingly. "He said we hadn't

+ought to believe we could make her happier than she is."

+

+"He? Who?"

+

+"Mr. Sidney."

+

+"Good for the boy," said Mrs. Wright, who had heard so much and often

+about Philip that she felt as if she had met him.

+

+"Why can't we go on here just as we have," said Eliza regretfully.

+"Why must folks come?"

+

+"Listen to the grudging one!" exclaimed Mrs. Wright lightly. "And what

+a different doctrine Nature is preaching us this morning. Look where

+you will, no limitations--none. Illimitable sky, illimitable sea.

+That's the way it should be in our hearts, Eliza, illimitable love."

+

+"I dare say," returned the other with a world of obstinacy in her tone.

+

+"The world can't be full of Mrs. Ballards, but they're all our brothers

+and sisters just the same. Mr. Brooke goes on in his verse to say:--

+

+    'A little love, a little trust,

+    A soft impulse, a sudden dream,

+    And life as dry as desert dust

+    Is fresher than a mountain stream,'

+

+I don't like that hard look to come in your eyes, Eliza. The feeling

+behind it turns life as dry as desert dust wherever it holds sway."

+

+"I told you--" began Eliza slowly.

+

+"I know all about that," interrupted Mrs. Wright, "but little by little

+you'll find that all hard wilfulness is flat, stale, and unprofitable.

+Now you'd better spend this week before the Fabians come in trying that

+recipe every time you think of them. 'A little love, a little trust, a

+soft impulse.'"

+

+"And what will Mrs. Fabian be doin' all that time?" asked Eliza

+hardily. "Do you suppose she'll have any soft impulses toward me until

+I give her her aunt's things? That barrel upstairs in the back bedroom

+has got her grandmother's china and silver in it."

+

+"What do you want of it, Eliza?" asked Mrs. Wright.

+

+"To keep it away from her," was the prompt reply; and the speaker saw

+a cloud pass over the eyes she had learned to love. "Anyway, Mrs.

+Wright," she went on earnestly, "she left 'em all to me, all her

+things, Mrs. Ballard did."

+

+"I see," said Mrs. Wright thoughtfully. "Doubtless her grateful heart

+longed to leave you her money, and deciding to do otherwise she felt

+she wished you to have something equivalent."

+

+While they talked, Captain James had started across the field toward

+them, and now he drew near, walking beneath the bold and intricate

+curves made by wheeling swallows, the deep blue of their backs flashing

+iridescent in the sunlight.

+

+"Say," he called, "these fellers have set up housekeepin' over there

+in the Fabian porch. Snug as bugs in rugs they are. Darned if I know

+what to do."

+

+"Who?--the swallows?" asked Mrs. Wright.

+

+"Yes." Captain James seated himself on a rustic bench in the sun. "It's

+the new wind-break they had put up last summer did the mischief. Always

+been too blowy other springs for 'em to try it."

+

+"You dislike to disturb them? Is that the trouble?" asked Mrs. Wright.

+

+"I dislike to get my head took off," returned Captain James. "Mrs.

+Fabian'll have the law on me if I don't knock the nest down and clean

+up, and Kathleen'll read me the riot act if I do."

+

+The speaker pushed his hat to one side and scratched his head.

+

+Eliza regarded him unsmiling.

+

+"Do you always take care of their cottage?" she asked.

+

+"Ever since they've had one," he answered. "Used to take Kathleen and

+Edgar out to my pound when they wa'n't knee high to a grasshopper."

+

+"And now she has graduated from college. Think of it," said Mrs.

+Wright.

+

+"Wa'n't I invited?" asked Captain James proudly. "I guess I was. All

+engraved up pretty, and Kathleen's card inside. When they fledged

+Edgar and shoved him out o' the nest he didn't remember me; but little

+sober-sides there, she wa'n't goin' to forget an old friend. Edgar's

+boots nor his hat don't exactly fit him, late years," went on Captain

+James good-humoredly, "but Kathleen always was a brick and she ain't

+got over it. I guess I'll let the swallers alone till she's had her say

+anyway."

+

+"Going to be over there this afternoon, Captain James?" asked Mrs.

+Wright.

+

+"Yes. I've got Betsy Eaton washin' the dishes and cleanin' now, and

+I'll be back again on the rugs later."

+

+"Let us go over, Eliza," said Mrs. Wright. "I want you to see what a

+beautiful cottage it is."

+

+Eliza looked at her with steady significance. "I'm goin' to be too

+busy," she said slowly.

+

+Captain James sighed and rose. "Handsome day," he remarked, as he

+trudged off to dinner.

+

+"To-morrow, then?" asked Mrs. Wright.

+

+"No," responded Eliza firmly, freed of Captain James's presence, "nor

+the day after that. I ain't double-faced, Mrs. Wright. I can't go in

+when they ain't there, if I wouldn't when they are there."

+

+Mrs. Wright laughed softly. "My square-toed Eliza," she said, turning

+into the house. "Oh, I forgot to say there's a letter for you here. Mr.

+Wright must have left it on the table."

+

+Eliza had stooped over the row of sweet peas coming up thriftily

+about the house, and she rose slowly and followed her friend indoors,

+but when she saw the small stubbed writing on the envelope her eyes

+brightened. Twice before during the winter had it come to cheer her.

+

+"Mr. Sidney!" she said, and sat down to enjoy her letter to the full.

+

+"DEAR ELIZA," it began.

+

+"We had a hot day yesterday. Pat's tongue hung out and he assured

+me that the only thing that would do him any good was to take off

+his flesh and sit in his bones. They tell me the summer is here to

+stay, and I am going to make an aisle through my opposite neighbor,

+the storeroom, and get at the window in there so as to get a draught

+through. The sun bakes the stable roof, but I wouldn't mind it if the

+perspiration didn't run into my eyes. This state of things makes me an

+easy prey to Aunt Isabel's kind insistence that I shall spend a week

+with her. She says two; but that will depend on how much fog there is

+and whether I have to waste time.

+

+"I can't compliment you on being a complete letter-writer, but I judge

+you have had a good winter and kept from freezing. You say the islands

+have looked like frosted wedding cakes. The first part sounds good to

+me. I hope you've saved some over. That's the sort of wedding cake I'd

+like to dream on just now. You may believe my heart often goes homing

+to the mountains. What would I give for one night under the windy

+trees. The very stars are hot here--but--I like it!

+

+"I've had a wonderful winter. I can't say I'm a belle at the Academy.

+One of the teachers turned on me the other day and said he would

+thank me to stop trying to teach him how to teach me. He said my

+'stand-and-deliver' methods might be _de rigueur_ west of the Rockies,

+but something less aggressive would be more becoming a student here

+who knew as little as I did. They all have a hunted look as they come

+near me; for I don't care a straw how much they snub me if I can only

+get from them what I'm after; and I glow with the consciousness that I

+have accomplished a lot, even though my strenuous path is strewn with

+the wounded and I have some bruises myself.

+

+"Dear Aunt Mary! I send her a wireless every night. I wonder if she

+gets it!

+

+"Aunt Isabel has been a trump to me the whole winter, patient with my

+neglect, and letting me go my own gait; but she brought a thermometer

+over to the stable in my absence one day and sat down in my room

+waiting for it to go up. It didn't lag, and I found her sitting there

+in a wilted state, and she declared that she should stay until I

+promised to go with her to the island and get a coat of tan. So I

+promised. It will be great to get a breath, and great to see you again,

+Eliza. Kindly arrange that the third week in June shall be free from

+fog. My time will be precious.

+

+"Give my compliments to Mrs. Wright and tell her I had a pleasant chat

+with her niece one morning in the park while I was sketching.

+

+"Tell Pluto to be ready to pose with you if old ocean veils himself.

+

+"With my best to you,

+

+      "As ever

+

+      "PHILIP SIDNEY."

+

+"Now, then, Eliza," said Mrs. Wright when her companion had read this

+epistle aloud.

+

+"Now, then, what?" returned Eliza happily.

+

+"He'll be a link. He'll have to be. You can't be crabbed and offish and

+spoil his one vacation."

+

+"Do you mean Mrs. Fabian?" Eliza gave her rare laugh as she pushed

+the letter back into its envelope. "If she could help her nephew from

+runnin' after common folks, she would; but she certainly won't run

+after him. We shan't clash any."

+

+"I'm glad I'm going to see the boy," said Mrs. Wright. Violet had

+written of him: at first with girlish enthusiasm, but after the park

+interview more grudgingly. It seemed rather silly in a grown man to be

+so amused by the airs of a robin! For some unknown reason the memory of

+that foolishness had rankled for days.

+

+

+

+

+CHAPTER XVI

+

+THE PEACEMAKER

+

+

+Kathleen Fabian, out of school in that month of June, was at home in

+body, but with her mind still clinging about the scenes of her college

+life.

+

+"I do believe, all things considered," said her mother when they were

+sitting alone one morning over their coffee, "that I am against college

+for girls!"

+

+Kathleen looked up absent-mindedly from the letter she had been

+reading. "What's the matter?" she asked vaguely.

+

+"You have scarcely heard a word I have said since you came home,"

+declared Mrs. Fabian. "Your thoughts are a thousand miles away all the

+time."

+

+"Not a thousand," protested the girl. "Four years is a long time, you

+know. To break up one's home--to break all those ties--means so much."

+

+"Exactly what I say," retorted Mrs. Fabian. "I should like to know

+when you will begin again to realize that this is home, and that your

+father and mother would like some share in your thoughts."

+

+"Why, I must be horribly selfish," returned the girl.

+

+"There it is again!" exclaimed her mother, increasingly nettled. "If it

+takes unselfishness to show some interest in home after a girl leaves

+college, I say she had better not go there."

+

+"Very well," returned Kathleen, smiling. "Don't you ever send another

+daughter; but I'm glad you made the mistake with me. I've been so

+happy, mother."

+

+"Oh, well," returned Mrs. Fabian, somewhat mollified by the wistfulness

+of the girl's look and tone, "I suppose you have, and perhaps it is all

+for the best; but hereafter, when I speak to you, I intend to begin

+'Kathleen Fabian!' and you must reply 'Present' before I go on."

+

+"Have you been talking to me?" asked Kathleen naïvely.

+

+"Well, rather. I have been telling you something that should be very

+interesting, considering the height of the thermometer. Father says we

+are to start for the island next Wednesday; and I am holding in my hand

+an acceptance from Philip Sidney to my invitation to go with us."

+

+"How very nice," said Kathleen courteously.

+

+Mrs. Fabian, always on the sensitive lookout where her young relative

+was concerned, thought she detected a perfunctory note.

+

+"You knew I had asked him?"

+

+"Yes, I think you did mention it before Commencement."

+

+"He says," said Mrs. Fabian, "that you have never talked to him about

+the island."

+

+"But think," returned Kathleen, "how seldom I have talked with him."

+

+"Yes," returned her mother resignedly, "and how full your head is of

+other matters. You were very nice to Phil on Christmas night, here. I

+wasn't sure but that you would invite him yourself."

+

+"Oh, why should I?"

+

+"No reason, if you don't see any. Phil was very polite to you at your

+graduation. Those flowers were exquisite."

+

+"Yes." The girl smiled. "They would have worried me, but that I know

+flowers are cheaper in June."

+

+"I don't think that's a very nice thing to say," observed Mrs. Fabian.

+

+"I meant it very nicely," returned Kathleen mildly.

+

+"Well, perhaps it isn't so strange that you have not talked the island

+to him, since you have been engrossed in other things; but I have had

+all the trouble in the world to induce him to go; and if you had roused

+his enthusiasm a little it would have been easier."

+

+"Why have you urged him?" asked the girl.

+

+Her mother regarded her for a pause, in exasperated silence. "Are you

+aware," she returned at last, "that it is 87 in the shade this morning?

+Are you aware that these rooms, where the draught constantly changes

+the air, are slightly different from that studio, baking under a stable

+roof and hemmed in by high buildings?"

+

+"Of course, of course!"

+

+"Are you aware," went on Mrs. Fabian sonorously, "that one who has

+always previously had a home might find a brief change from cheap

+restaurants invigorating in hot weather?"

+

+"I didn't know," said Kathleen. "I thought perhaps he was too busy to

+notice. He"--she hesitated, but imperceptibly to Mrs. Fabian,--"he has

+not called here since I returned."

+

+"That's just it," flashed Phil's defender. "He never spares himself.

+He thinks of nothing but work. Now, I have never forced any of my

+relatives on the Fabians," with heightened color, "but your father

+likes Phil. He was delighted to have me ask him. He has charged me to

+hold on to the boy until he can join us."

+

+"I hope he can stay," put in Kathleen politely.

+

+"If I can get him there," said Mrs. Fabian. "Here is this matter of the

+berths, as usual. The stateroom has been engaged for a month, but we

+have only Molly's berth outside."

+

+Kathleen's eyes grew eager. "Well, that's all right," she said. "You

+won't mind taking Molly in the stateroom in my place, and let Mr.

+Sidney have her berth. I'll wait and come up with father."

+

+"You not go with us? Kathleen, you're absurd." Color streamed again

+over Mrs. Fabian's face.

+

+"No, no. That will be a fine plan, and relieve you of all

+embarrassment. Father will like to have me here, and I shall love to

+stay with him."

+

+Mrs. Fabian gazed at the girl in silence. She admired Kathleen

+extravagantly. There was something in the girl's natural poise and

+elegance which the stepmother, with an innate, unacknowledged

+consciousness of inferiority, worshipped. She never forgot that

+Kathleen's mother had been a Van Ruysler. Now, as if it were not enough

+that Edgar scorned the island, and even if he should be granted leave

+of absence would not play the courteous host to Phil, now Kathleen was

+anxious to avoid him, and caught at an excuse to postpone her departure.

+

+The girl grew uncomfortable under the fixed stare bent upon her, and

+when suddenly Mrs. Fabian dropped her coffee-spoon and burying her face

+in her hands burst into tears, Kathleen arose in dismay, the soft laces

+of her négligée floating in the breeze she made hastening around the

+table and taking the weeping one in her arms.

+

+"I don't know what has happened," she said in bewilderment, "but I am

+sure it is all my fault. I was trying to help you, mother."

+

+"You were not!" responded Mrs. Fabian, as angrily as the softening

+nature of salt water would permit. "You were trying to avoid that poor,

+lonely little fellow."

+

+Kathleen bit her lip as memory presented the stalwart, self-confident

+artist before her.

+

+"You tell me to take my young cousin if I must, and get his visit over

+with before you come up there to enjoy yourself. You don't care how

+much you hurt his feelings."

+

+"Why, mother, wouldn't he think it very natural that I should keep

+father company?"

+

+"No, certainly not, when he knows that Edgar is here. He doesn't know

+that Edgar isn't any use to anybody, unless it's Mrs. Larrabee. He'd

+just think the truth: that you don't want to be there at the same time

+he is."

+

+"Now, mother, you're so mistaken. He wouldn't even miss me. When he

+gets the view from our porch he won't know whether I'm there or not."

+

+"Very convenient excuse; but you needn't make any more of them. I

+understand you, Kathleen. Why shouldn't I, when I taught you to walk?

+I'm foolish to break down before you. I ought to have more pride; but

+it's the heat. I'm tired and nervous; and you come home from college

+with no interest except in what you've left behind you, and want to

+arrange things so that my guest at the island will have his visit

+spoiled--"

+

+"Mother, he--"

+

+"Nobody at the cottage but me, and nobody to help entertain him but

+Mrs. Wright and Eliza Brewster and--"

+

+"Mother, he--"

+

+"It's so often that I ask any of my friends there! So often that I bore

+you and Edgar to look out for my guests! I must always be on hand for

+yours, to chaperone you and see that all goes smoothly for your plans.

+I suppose--"

+

+"Mother, indeed--"

+

+"If Phil had sunstroke, it would be all the same to you, just so he

+kept out of your way; and Christmas week when we went there to tea, how

+nice he was to us, and so amusing, getting everything in such perfect

+order that he apologized for not dusting the marshmallows. Oh, my head

+is just bursting!"

+

+"There, mother dear, I know you will be ill, if you get so excited,"

+said Kathleen, patting the heaving white silken shoulder. "Of course,

+I'll go to the island with you. I didn't know you cared so much."

+

+Mrs. Fabian lifted her swollen eyes to behold her victory. "There's one

+comfort, Kathleen," she said, deep catches in her breath. "You never do

+things by halves. If you do go, you'll never allow Phil to feel that he

+bores you."

+

+The girl smiled. "No, if I succeed in calling myself to his

+attention," she answered, "I promise he shan't suspect it."

+

+"If he is sometimes absent-minded," said Mrs. Fabian defensively, "I'm

+sure I don't know any one who should have so much sympathy with him as

+you--the very queen of wool-gatherers."

+

+Kathleen laughed and went back to her seat at the table. "I see that I

+must reform," she replied.

+

+"I'm relieved, and I do thank you," said her mother; "but the question

+remains, how are we going to get Phil there?"

+

+"That's easy. Send Molly with the other maids by the boat. I'll hook

+your gown."

+

+"There," returned Mrs. Fabian; "you see, you might have suggested that

+in the first place. I understand you well enough, Kathleen."

+

+"I thought it would be good fun to hob-nob with father. It's so long

+since I have."

+

+"I'm going to persuade him to leave business early this year. It has

+worried him unusually this winter. He can if he only thinks so. I

+reminded him this morning that if he died, the business would have to

+get on without him. He agreed, but said in that case the loss would be

+wholly covered by insurance. Rather grim sort of humor, that. I told

+him I couldn't see anything funny in such talk."

+

+"Poor father," commented Kathleen. "Everybody is tired this time of

+year. There should be some arrangement of relays in running a business.

+The winter workers should be turned out to grass in May."

+

+She looked at her father that evening with observant eyes, as together

+they moved into his den after dinner. It had been closed from the sun

+all day and he sank into a big leather armchair by a breeze-blown

+window, following his daughter's white-clad figure with appreciative

+eyes.

+

+"I'm glad you're through college, Kath," he said.

+

+"So I can light your cigar the rest of my life?" she asked, seating

+herself on his knee and applying the lighted match.

+

+"Partly that," he answered, drawing in the flame, "and partly for your

+mother's sake. She needs more companionship than I can give her. She

+has a gay nature; she likes going out. I hope you aren't too much like

+me."

+

+"I hope I'm exactly like you," the girl returned devoutly; and leaning

+forward, she drew in a mouthful of the fragrant cigar smoke and

+exhaled it through her nostrils. The movement was quick and graceful,

+and she looked mischievously pretty.

+

+"Don't do that, you monkey," said her father quickly.

+

+"Why not?"

+

+"I don't like it."

+

+"I'm frightfully unfashionable, because I smoke so little," she

+returned.

+

+"It's a vicious habit--for women," declared Mr. Fabian.

+

+"But I'm a suffragist; besides, men tolerate it in women now--they like

+them to do it."

+

+"Not the women they love," said Mr. Fabian quickly.

+

+"Oh!" responded Kathleen.

+

+"When I saw you smoking a cigarette with Edgar a little while ago," he

+went on, "I spoke to you about it. Don't you remember? I told you how

+unbecoming I thought it. I hoped you would heed me."

+

+Kathleen met his serious gaze.

+

+"That wasn't a little while ago," she said.

+

+"Certainly it was. This winter."

+

+"It couldn't have been later than November," she went on slowly, "for

+I haven't touched a cigarette since then."

+

+"Good girl." Mr. Fabian patted her shoulder. "It disgusted me to see

+you. You'll never do it again?"

+

+"No." She shook her head, and carefully ran her finger through a ring

+of smoke as it passed her.

+

+"I wish I could get Edgar to say the same," remarked Mr. Fabian.

+

+"You don't set him a good example," she returned.

+

+"You never saw me with a cigarette. Edgar has to abstain from them in

+the office, but I think he sits up all night to make up for it. I have

+an idea they contribute to his general uselessness."

+

+Kathleen smoothed the care-worn lines in the speaker's brow with her

+gentle fingers. He loved their touch.

+

+"I think Edgar isn't smoking much these days," she said.

+

+"Indeed." The response was indifferent. "Why should that be? Does Mrs.

+Larrabee want them all?"

+

+"It's on account of his voice," said Kathleen.

+

+The tired man of affairs removed his cigar to laugh while his daughter

+arranged his hair around his temples. "Edgar denying himself!" he

+ejaculated quietly.

+

+"Yes, father, he's waking up to it," said the girl, with a little

+serious nod; "and that's one thing Mrs. Larrabee has really done for

+him--made him believe that his voice is worth working for."

+

+"It's the only thing she can find to flatter him about. That's all that

+amounts to," said Mr. Fabian, resuming his cigar. "So long as she can

+make any use of him she will keep him dangling about, and flattery is

+the best bait."

+

+"But his voice is a real gift," insisted Kathleen, with deliberate

+emphasis. "Don't you think so?"

+

+"I never heard him sing that I know of--certainly not for years."

+

+"It is beautiful--the heart-reaching kind. If he hadn't been a rich

+man's son it would have been given to the world in some shape."

+

+"A rich man's son." Mr. Fabian repeated the words quietly, and took his

+daughter's arm in a strong grasp. "Kathleen, this has been an awful

+winter. I don't know what the next year will bring forth. Say nothing

+to your mother, but there are threatening clouds all about me."

+

+"Father!" The girl pressed her cheek to his, and there was a moment of

+silence; then she spoke again gently. "I have often wished I might have

+been your son."

+

+The hand that had gripped her arm, stole around her and drew her close.

+

+After a moment, she sat up again and faced him. "I came in here

+to-night on purpose to speak to you about Edgar," she went on. "He

+wanted me to intercede for him in a matter."

+

+"A matter of debts, I suppose," said Mr. Fabian, his manner

+imperturbable again, and his tone bitter.

+

+"Yes, but--"

+

+"I'm through," interrupted the man. "He has had plenty of warning. I

+would not tell you, Kathleen, the number of foolish, and sometimes

+disgraceful, affairs I have settled for him."

+

+"I don't doubt it, dear, but let me tell you about this," said the girl

+seriously. "Edgar has no judgment or foresight. He persists in claiming

+that he was born with a golden spoon in his mouth and that whatever he

+can scoop up with it is his right. He is your only son and you owe him

+unlimited liberty."

+

+"The lessons I have given him would be sufficient if he had any

+brains," said the father sternly.

+

+"Yes; but just a minute more. This debt will astonish you. It is to

+Mazzini, the famous voice teacher. He has been studying with him since

+January."

+

+"Just like his vanity! Let him send the bill to Mrs. Larrabee. It is

+her doing."

+

+"Yes, it was her doing in the first place, but I suspect from what

+Edgar says that she is tired of him. He hasn't seen her often of late,

+and she sails for Europe anyway next week; and Edgar is so interested

+in his music that now it comes first. His teacher is so enthusiastic!"

+

+"Of course he is!" observed Mr. Fabian cynically. "They're always

+enthusiastic over the voices of pupils whose pocketbooks will stand the

+strain."

+

+"Edgar sang for me last night while you and mother were out. Father,

+it was a beautiful performance. It is the real thing. Of course, he

+was wrong--crazy, to go into such expense without asking you, for

+the lessons are frightfully dear; but if the boy were to amount to

+something in an artistic line, wouldn't it be worth the investment? You

+are discouraged by his lack of interest in business."

+

+Mr. Fabian's chin sank dejectedly as he flicked the ash from his cigar

+into the receiver on the stand beside his chair.

+

+"Discouraged by his inability," he said slowly; "discouraged by his

+lack of principle, by his vanity and conceit. I will give him board and

+lodging as long as he wishes to live with me; but--"

+

+"Then, dear," interrupted Kathleen, her voice thrilling with the

+sympathy she felt, "try this one thing more. If the expense doesn't

+appall you--"

+

+Mr. Fabian shook his head impatiently. "That would be nothing--as yet."

+

+"Edgar can't study through the summer. His teacher is going to Italy.

+He would like to go with him--" the girl paused doubtfully.

+

+Her father laughed. "I dare say. Edgar's European travel, however, is

+over until he is engaged to sing before the crowned heads."

+

+"Yes, I supposed so," agreed the girl; "but he means to work faithfully

+all summer."

+

+"Work faithfully! Edgar!" repeated Mr. Fabian.

+

+"Supposing he should, father. Supposing he has found his niche in life

+and will do something worth while."

+

+"Wonderful if true," remarked Mr. Fabian.

+

+"But it won't help to disbelieve in him. I know he began all wrong

+forcing you to pay this money--"

+

+Kathleen arose suddenly, and, moving across the room, opened the heavy

+door of the den. "Come in, Edgar," she called. The invitation was

+unnecessary; for the youth, in his eagerness to hear what fate was

+being meted out to him within the closed apartment, had been leaning so

+hard against the door that when all at once it fell away from him, he

+staggered into the room with the most undignified celerity.

+

+Stirred as Kathleen was, she had to bite her lip before she could

+speak; but when her brother had gained his perpendicular and faced them

+with a somewhat frightened and very crimson countenance, she broke the

+silence.

+

+"Tell father," she said, "that you know you began this new venture

+wrong: that it was shameful to force him to pay this big bill for your

+lessons."

+

+Edgar choked and swallowed, meeting the eyes that were lifting to him

+from the depths of the leathern armchair. Convicted of eavesdropping

+and reading the cold appraisement in his father's gaze, he had not

+gathered himself to utter a word when Mr. Fabian spoke.

+

+"You have not forced me," he said slowly. "I can refuse. You are of

+age. You can be sued and imprisoned quite independently of me."

+

+Edgar's heart beat fast and he set the even teeth.

+

+"You have counted once more on my unwillingness to have this occur; but

+that unwillingness has been weakening for years."

+

+Still Edgar did not speak. Kathleen, standing by her father's chair,

+her hands clasped tightly, dared not. She noted that Edgar's gaze did

+not fall. He met his father's eyes in crimson silence.

+

+"You know," continued Mr. Fabian distinctly, "whether I have exhausted

+persuasion and argument with you. You know my futile attempts to rouse

+your ambition to be my coadjutor, my successor. What you do not know,

+because you are incapable of understanding, is the agony of the slow

+death of my hope in my only son: the successive stages of thought which

+have finally reduced me to closing the account, and charging him up to

+profit and loss."

+

+Kathleen watched her brother under the lash with the same pitiful

+misery she felt for his punishments when they were children.

+

+"But you're going to try him in this new field, father," she said

+beseechingly.

+

+There was a space of silence, then Mr. Fabian spoke:--

+

+"I am going to trust your sister's judgment in this matter, Edgar. She

+believes you are in earnest. I am going to pay these tuition bills, and

+the coming months will show whether this is another passing toy, or a

+matter in which you can make good. To find you are good for anything,

+my boy," added the father, after another painful pause, "will be an

+amazing and welcome discovery."

+

+Something clicked in Edgar's throat. He evidently wished to speak, but

+his tongue seemed glued to the roof of his mouth. At last he found

+voice.

+

+"I don't blame you," he said jerkily, "but--I'll show you!"

+

+Mr. Fabian nodded his head slightly. "That's what I want," he said

+quietly; "I need to be shown."

+

+Without another word, Edgar turned on his heel and left the room.

+

+Kathleen sank on her knees and buried her face on her father's breast.

+

+"He didn't thank you," she said, half weeping, "but he felt it. I know

+he felt it. Oh, father, how I hope for your sake--"

+

+She could not speak further, and Mr. Fabian patted her shoulder, his

+eyes gazing out the darkening window.

+

+

+

+

+CHAPTER XVII

+

+MRS. FABIAN'S SCHEME

+

+

+Mrs. Fabian chanced to meet Edgar as he was leaving the house

+immediately after this interview. She had heard the closing of the

+library door, and the expression of her son's excited face, as he

+strode by her, was such that she let him go in silence.

+

+She knew Kathleen was with her father, and she was only too willing to

+use the girl as a buffer when Edgar was the subject of conversation.

+

+She moved about restlessly until she heard Kathleen leave the den and

+close the door softly behind her. Then she waylaid her daughter at the

+foot of the staircase. By the soft light of the electric lantern, she

+could see that the girl's eyes were red.

+

+"Come right up to my room," she whispered, excitedly, as if the very

+walls had ears. "I just met Edgar."

+

+They ascended in silence and Mrs. Fabian led the way into her boudoir,

+started an electric fan, and turned on the light.

+

+"Has his father cut him off?" she asked, facing Kathleen, her gaze wide

+with dread.

+

+"No, oh, no." The girl sank into a chair. "It was awful, but I hope it

+is the beginning of better things. Did you know that Edgar had begun to

+work with his voice?"

+

+"No! I've noticed that he has been making the most awful noises in his

+room lately."

+

+"Well, the talk grew out of that and the new debts he has contracted."

+

+"Edgar can't turn around without getting into debt!" ejaculated his

+mother desperately.

+

+Kathleen told her then what had occurred and she listened attentively.

+

+"Do you suppose it will amount to anything?" she asked at last.

+

+Kathleen shook her head vaguely. "I don't know enough about the

+opportunities," she replied, "and I know too much about Edgar. If he

+is only going to use an accomplishment to stand in a more brilliant

+limelight with those whose admiration he wants--" she shook her head

+again.

+

+Mrs. Fabian looked thoughtful. "I never saw such a look in his face as

+he had just now."

+

+"Father's words stung him, I know. He even said, 'I don't blame you.'

+Perhaps he will begin now to be a man."

+

+"I thought he might be going forever. I didn't dare to speak to him."

+

+Kathleen gave a disclaiming exclamation. "He couldn't do that. He is

+more helpless than a little new-fledged chicken."

+

+"I don't know," returned Mrs. Fabian sapiently. "Take a weak,

+good-looking fellow like Edgar, with a lovely voice, and if he became

+reckless there are plenty of sporty cafés in this town where they would

+pay him as an attraction. He knows that."

+

+"Mother!" exclaimed Kathleen, aghast.

+

+"Why, certainly!" averred Mrs. Fabian dismally elated at the dismay

+she had evoked. "There are a few things I know more about than you do,

+Kathleen. Imagine a handsome young fellow in correct evening clothes,

+when the patrons are hilarious at midnight, rising in his place, and,

+wineglass in hand, suddenly singing a love-song or ragtime. Do you

+think he would get a few encores? Do you think he could get paid to

+come again?" Mrs. Fabian had heard a description of lurid New Year's

+Eve revels and she built a shrewd surmise upon it.

+

+Kathleen was so worked upon by the picture that she rose restlessly,

+and moving to the window gazed into the summer gloom as if searching

+for a glimpse of her brother's well-carried, polished blond head.

+

+Mrs. Fabian bridled with dignified importance as she watched her; but

+her complacency was short-lived.

+

+Kathleen suddenly faced about. "Then how," she asked, "can you wish me

+to leave for the island at such a time?"

+

+"Oh, are you going back to that again!"

+

+"With father and Edgar in this sensitive state toward each other--to

+leave them to meet alone in this great house, with no one to soften the

+embarrassment. Would it be any wonder if Edgar fled to just such scenes

+as you describe? And wouldn't it be decidedly our fault?"

+

+Mrs. Fabian leaned forward in her armchair.

+

+"You couldn't do any permanent good," she said earnestly. "Edgar must

+really act alone, whether you are here or not. He hasn't done any of

+his practising here anyway, except those uncanny noises in his room."

+

+"No. There is some piano house where he has been able to use a room at

+noon; but his teacher sails this week and he cannot get the room any

+more. He would naturally do a lot of work at home after you were gone,

+if he felt at ease; and if I were here, it would help a great deal."

+

+Mrs. Fabian felt baffled. The truth of Kathleen's proposition was

+unanswerable; and to urge any claim above Edgar's good at this crucial

+time would be, she knew, inexcusable in his sister's eyes.

+

+The girl, burdened with the double responsibility of her father's

+confidence, and Edgar's future, turned again to the window and gazed

+out into the darkness, while Mrs. Fabian, leaning back in the breeze

+from the electric fan, put on her thinking-cap. It seemed hard that her

+wayward boy, if he had started on a worthy road, should manage at his

+very first step to get in her way.

+

+Her will was strong and shrewd. When later that night she was alone

+with her husband, she opened the subject.

+

+"Kathleen tells me Edgar has taken up serious work with his voice."

+

+"Kathleen is optimistic," was the laconic reply.

+

+"I think, Henry, we ought to meet him half-way in any honourable

+undertaking."

+

+Mr. Fabian made an inarticulate exclamation. He was thinking of the

+bill Kathleen had placed in his hands before she left him to-night.

+

+"I can't think," proceeded Mrs. Fabian, "that anything but a high sense

+of duty would induce anybody to make the blood-curdling noises that

+I've heard lately from Edgar's room."

+

+A short silence; then Mrs. Fabian spoke again. "It seems he cannot go

+any longer to the place where he has done his practising. I'm afraid if

+he should work evenings here, it might annoy you, Henry."

+

+"I dare say it might," agreed the weary man, with an involuntary sigh.

+

+"I was thinking that if he is not very busy at the office--"

+

+"Very busy!" The father threw back his head.

+

+"You might give him a longer vacation"--

+

+"Edgar's whole life is a vacation," said Mr. Fabian.

+

+"And let him go with us to the island. If he is really going to make

+music his lifework he could practise regularly there and be away from

+temptations, and--"

+

+Mr. Fabian slowly faced his wife with such attention that she paused

+hopefully, then went on:--

+

+"You know Philip Sidney is going with me, and his companionship would

+be so good for Edgar."

+

+"It's a bright thought, my dear," said Mr. Fabian. "The office will be

+able to struggle along without Edgar, and then we can close the house

+and I can live at the club."

+

+"Not too long," said his wife, so pleased at her sudden success that

+she put her arms around his neck and kissed him. "Not too long, Henry.

+You must take a long vacation this year."

+

+He returned her caress. "One day at a time," he said briefly.

+

+Mrs. Fabian sought her pillow, well-pleased; and contrary to her habit,

+she was up betimes next morning, and hastened to her son's room before

+he came down to breakfast.

+

+"Can I come in?" she asked, knocking.

+

+Edgar was in his shirt-sleeves adjusting his tie; and when he opened

+the door and saw his mother, he gave an exclamation.

+

+"What's the matter?" he asked. "Too hot to sleep?"

+

+A cloudless sun was promising another day with a soaring thermometer.

+

+Mrs. Fabian noted the hard questioning in her boy's eyes. She knew he

+considered her his father's aid in denying him the right to spend as a

+millionaire's son should--knew that his attitude toward her had long

+been defensive; and that her unusual visit to his room roused only his

+suspicion of something disagreeable.

+

+"Do you mind if I come in, dear?" she asked, her soft silks trailing

+noiselessly as she moved across the room. "I am so interested in what I

+hear about your music."

+

+Edgar was silent, continuing to busy himself with his tie. He knew

+his stepmother too well to believe that she had risen with the lark

+to felicitate him on his last venture. He took up the ivory military

+brushes she had given him and began to use them vigorously. He was

+still smarting from the scene of the night before and he braced himself

+for a homily on the subject of his music bill.

+

+"I've never believed in thwarting a child's bent," said Mrs. Fabian,

+flicking the ashes from a chair to make it fit to sit upon. "I said to

+Philip Sidney's mother, 'let him paint.' I said to your father last

+night when I heard all this, 'let Edgar sing.'"

+

+Mrs. Fabian paused to allow her breadth of view to sink in. Edgar

+glanced around at her sulkily, from his mirror, and then looked back

+again.

+

+"Now, you have no taste for commercial life, dear, why waste more time

+in it at present until you see what the artistic line holds for you?"

+

+Edgar glanced back at the speaker again quickly. What was the "nigger

+in the fence"? Her face looked innocently out at him from a becoming

+boudoir cap.

+

+"And I suggested to your father that he let your vacation start earlier

+and that you come with us to the island next Wednesday. You are going

+to work for a time anyway without your teacher, and this hot atmosphere

+must be so relaxing to the throat. There it is pure and bracing and you

+can lay out your course of study and be undisturbed."

+

+Edgar regarded the speaker with some interest now, but still

+questioning.

+

+"Father thinks, then, we could close the house and he would live at the

+club."

+

+Edgar tossed his head, raised his eyebrows, and proceeded to put on his

+coat.

+

+"You want to close the house. That's it," he said.

+

+"Don't you think it would be a good plan?" asked Mrs. Fabian

+ingratiatingly.

+

+All Edgar's cynicism was not proof against allowing some satisfaction

+to appear in the prospect of leaving the office routine and pursuing

+the line of work which had genuinely captured his interest.

+

+"Yes, I don't mind," he answered. "Kath going with you?"

+

+"Yes, and Philip Sidney,--just for a short visit."

+

+Edgar shrugged his shoulders.

+

+"You can imagine the heat of that stable room," suggested Mrs. Fabian.

+

+"Tophet, I suppose," agreed Edgar. "All right. I'll go." The even

+teeth had been set many times since last evening in the prospect of a

+_tête-à-tête_ existence with his father.

+

+"I wish we might go on all together, but, of course, not knowing, I

+didn't engage a berth for you."

+

+"I'll go on the day train," responded Edgar; adding with his customary

+grace, "I never was keen for travelling in caravans anyway."

+

+Mrs. Fabian was not critical of his rudeness. She was too pleased at

+having gained her end, and soon floated away to Kathleen's room, her

+next strategic point.

+

+She found her daughter propped up in bed with coffee and toast on a

+table before her.

+

+"Good morning, mother, you put me to shame," said the girl. "Didn't you

+sleep either? This is early for you."

+

+"Poor child," said Mrs. Fabian, seating herself on the foot of the bed

+and observing the rings around the other's eyes. "Yes, I slept pretty

+well, but not until after your father and I had had a long talk."

+

+Kathleen scrutinized her mother's complacent countenance and made up

+her mind that the talk could not have concerned business.

+

+"I told him how sure I felt that Edgar was in earnest now, and we both

+concluded it was time wasted to try any longer to fit a square peg into

+a round hole, so your father is going to let the boy go to the island

+at once with us and work at his voice there, away from temptations."

+

+"Oh, how fine!" breathed Kathleen. "Then," she added aloud, "he will

+entertain Mr. Sidney in my place, and I can stay with father."

+

+"That's an absurd idea and you know it. Philip and Edgar would get

+along like two tigers. You can see that I need you more than ever to

+reconcile them."

+

+Kathleen's face did not look encouraging. She longed to tell her mother

+of her father's straits, but her lips were sealed.

+

+"Besides," added Mrs. Fabian, with the conscious power of one who plays

+the last trump, "one reason your father wishes to dispense with Edgar

+is that he wants to close the house and live at the club."

+

+Kathleen's face fell and her eyes looked away.

+

+"You see he'll come to us all the sooner, dear," said her mother. "Men

+talk about enjoying living at the club, but when they are happy family

+men they tire of it very soon."

+

+The girl smiled faintly. "We have been something of a 'happy family'

+lately," she said; "but if Edgar really turns over a new leaf--"

+

+"Oh, he has!" declared Mrs. Fabian. "I'm glad to remember that the

+outdoors is large at Brewster's. I suspect he will nearly drive us

+crazy, but one must exercise some self-sacrifice in this world." She

+rose. "Take another nap if you can, Kathleen. I'm thankful the island

+is so near for you. You're completely tired out."

+

+But Kathleen did not take another nap. She dressed very soon, and,

+pleading a desire for fresh air, left the house. She did not ask

+for the machine lest her mother should offer to accompany her, but

+descended in all her dainty whiteness into the subway and started for

+Wall Street. Arrived at the labyrinth of offices where daily Mr. Fabian

+struggled and Edgar endured, she dreaded meeting her brother, but she

+saw nothing of him, and waited in an ante-room, looking about her with

+a swelling heart. How little part she and her mother had ever had in

+the heavy responsibilities of her father's life. She doubted if her

+mother came here twice a year, and when she did it was simply to obtain

+money.

+

+She had not long to wait, for Mr. Fabian himself opened the door of his

+private office, and the clerk passing out saw him stoop and kiss the

+girl in the large hat strewn with lilacs.

+

+"What brings you, my dear?" he asked, his brows knitting anxiously.

+She smiled and clung to his hand as they moved inside. "You're pale,

+Kathleen. Off to the island with you, child. Off to the island."

+

+"That's just what I came about," she answered, taking the chair he set

+for her, and the electric fan whirring above her head carried the scent

+of orris to her father. "I would so much rather stay with you. I came

+to urge you to let me."

+

+He regarded her with eyes full of affection and gave a short laugh.

+

+"I frightened you last night," he said. "Perhaps I did wrong."

+

+"No, no, you didn't. Mother told me the plan to let Edgar go. That is

+right. Edgar can't be a comfort to you; but I can, father. Don't shut

+up the house. Let me stay with you till you are ready to go."

+

+Mr. Fabian nodded, his eyes fixed upon the sensitive face with its

+beseeching eyes.

+

+"You're a good girl, Kathleen. You are a comfort to me, whether we're

+together or not; and just now it will be an advantage to me to live

+close to my associates at the club. Go without anxiety, child. I

+promise to keep you advised of everything important."

+

+The troubled eyes did not leave his face.

+

+"Don't exaggerate what I said last night. I am not going to make any

+spectacular failure, but I have my own ideas of equity and I'm not

+going to wriggle out on a technicality. My course may lose me friends

+as well as money; but I've got to live with myself, and there are some

+memories I don't propose to entertain. Your mother has always been

+moderate in her demands, she has never shared the insane ambitions of

+some of her acquaintances; but her toys are very dear to her and I hate

+to curtail them. It looks as if I might have to."

+

+"It might be the making of Edgar," said Kathleen.

+

+Her father regarded her in silent admiration. It was evident that her

+own part in the loss had not occurred to her.

+

+"Your mother's unselfishness in keeping the island summer home, because

+I like its simplicity, makes this season's problem easy. By autumn I

+shall know the worst."

+

+"How I would like to stay with you right along until everything is

+settled," said Kathleen fervently. "I want to be sure that you know how

+happy I should be in it. I keep so busy with my slides and microscope,

+and then--there's something else I do." Kathleen colored consciously.

+"I meant not to tell any one yet, but,--I write a little!"

+

+"Stories, you mean?"

+

+The girl nodded. "It is nothing, it may never amount to anything; but

+the microscope suggested it to me. There is such a great world that we

+never enter or think about. So you can see how happy I should be in our

+big, cool house, and not a bit lonely,--if you'll only have me."

+

+"I believe you, Kathleen, but it wouldn't work, dear. I could be at

+home so little, and I'd like to cut off the expense of the house."

+

+"Oh, oh! Is it so bad as that?"

+

+"No, not nearly so bad; but in time of peace, prepare for war."

+

+"Then mother had better not take her usual weeks at a resort."

+

+Mr. Fabian raised his eyebrows. "How else is the dear lady to exhibit

+her summer toilets? The fish at the island are so unappreciative."

+

+"Don't keep things from mother," pleaded Kathleen.

+

+"I promise not to when there is anything to tell. I was weak enough to

+think out loud with you. Now, run along, my child."

+

+"Oh, father, always be weak enough to think out loud with me. Will

+you?" He had risen and she did so reluctantly.

+

+He crushed her trim whiteness in his arms, and kissed her. "Don't make

+me sorry, then. Don't cross any bridge until you come to it. Promise."

+

+She smiled up at him bravely. "I promise," she said, and left the

+office with a wistful backward look at him standing there, his eyes

+following her.

+

+

+

+

+CHAPTER XVIII

+

+CASCO BAY

+

+

+Pat's benevolent heart swelled with satisfaction when, a few evenings

+later, Philip ran down the stable stairs, his packed suitcase in hand.

+

+"Wish you were going along," said the artist, meeting the Irishman's

+approving gaze.

+

+"I will as soon as ye need a valet," was the reply. "Ye think I can't

+put on style!" Pat winked and shook his head knowingly. "Ye'd burst wid

+pride if ye saw me fixed up and waitin' on ye."

+

+"I haven't a doubt of it. Well, so long. It will be only a few nights

+before I shall be back, sizzling with you again." And Phil gave the man

+a smiling nod and went out of the door, almost running into the arms of

+Mrs. Fabian, who, in the trimmest of cool grey travelling gowns, was

+looking askance at a spring and mattress outside the barn door.

+

+Pat aghast, hastened to button the open throat of his shirt. "The Queen

+o' Sheby," he muttered.

+

+"Why, did I keep you waiting, Aunt Isabel?" asked Phil, with

+contrition. "I was planning to be out in front in plenty of time."

+

+"Yes, it is early, but I wanted to speak to your man a minute."

+

+Pat bowed in the direction of the voluminous grey chiffon veil. "You

+may go out and join Kathleen," Mrs. Fabian added.

+

+"Dear me, nothing private, I hope," said Phil, vastly amused by the

+conflicting emotions on the Irishman's face.

+

+"Have you seen to putting your evening clothes away?" asked Mrs. Fabian.

+

+"Why--why, they're hanging up there in the closet."

+

+"Just what I expected. Run along, and I'll tell this good man what to

+do."

+

+Phil gave Pat one humorous glance and obeyed, passing out toward the

+street where he soon saw Kathleen in the waiting car, her hat tied down

+by a roseate veil.

+

+Mrs. Fabian at once accosted Pat. "Could you pack up Mr. Sidney's

+belongings and send them after him, if we ask you?"

+

+"I could, mum, but 'tis only a week he'll be away."

+

+"He wouldn't want his evening clothes. Do you know what a moth-bag is?"

+

+"I do not, thin."

+

+"Well, go to the store and ask, please. Brush Mr. Sidney's evening

+clothes thoroughly and put them in the bag, seal it up tight, and hang

+it in the closet. The careless boy. That's what comes of always having

+had a mother."

+

+"Lot's o' folks is jist that careless," remarked Pat. He was beginning

+to feel that even a queen, if she invaded his own vine and fig tree,

+might be a little less peremptory.

+

+"You may send everything else, except of course his winter overcoat.

+By the way, you may get another moth-bag for that, and treat it in the

+same manner."

+

+"He'll not be stayin', mum. He's all for work."

+

+"Has he been sleeping out here on these hot stones?" demanded Mrs.

+Fabian, with dilating nostrils, looking at the mattress.

+

+"No, mum, he usually took the bed," responded the Irishman.

+

+"Well, you've carried his upstairs, I see."

+

+"I'll have to break it to ye that he did it himself," said the man.

+

+Mrs. Fabian ignored his manner. Her thought was filled with Philip's

+situation.

+

+"Well, here," she said, with a preoccupied air, and, taking a bill

+from the fine-mesh purse which hung from her wrist, she held it out to

+the Irishman. "Take this and do what I've asked you. You needn't prepay

+the trunk if you send it. Keep the change, and I hope the heat here

+won't grow any worse. Good-bye." And Mrs. Fabian turned on her heel and

+the grey chiffon floated away up the alley.

+

+Pat looked at the five-dollar bill he held and tossed his head. "Who is

+that bye," he muttered, "and will he iver live in the stable ag'in?"

+

+Suddenly, bethinking himself that he might see the grand departure of

+his lodger, he hurried out to the street, and was in time to see Phil's

+straw hat loom amid a confusion of grey and rosy streaming veils.

+

+"Sure, 'tis only the rich enjoys this life," he thought good-naturedly,

+and unbuttoning his neckband again, he returned to his palm-leaf fan.

+

+As the motor flew breezily through the hot city streets, Philip gave

+himself up to the pleasure of his outing. Mrs. Fabian regarded him with

+supreme satisfaction, and Kathleen, though a little heartsore from

+parting with her father, dared not indulge in a pensive moment, knowing

+that her mother would pounce upon it alertly and later reproach her.

+

+They passed the evening in the stateroom of the flying train, and Mrs.

+Fabian narrated with much dignity the tale of Edgar's retirement from

+commercial life in favor of the arts. Philip pricked up his ears when

+he learned that the heir of the house was expected at the island at

+once.

+

+Kathleen was not obliged to talk much, and at last they all ceased

+fanning themselves and shouting remarks against the clatter of the open

+windows, and retired.

+

+After breakfast the following morning, as they entered a carriage to

+cross Portland, Kathleen nodded at Philip.

+

+"Say good-bye to heat," she remarked.

+

+"Hard to believe," returned the Westerner, who had tried to refrain

+from talking of his native mountains. His thoughts often travelled back

+even to the stable studio where certain work begun stood awaiting his

+return; but soon after they entered the boat for the island, he began

+to see Kathleen's words fulfilled. The ladies wrapped themselves in

+heavy coats and Mrs. Fabian begged Phil to put on his sweater; but he

+held his hat in his hand and declared his desire to be chilled to the

+bone.

+

+As they pulled out past the near islands into wide spaces of sea,

+interest slowly grew in Phil's eyes. His comments grew less frequent,

+and finally stopped. The islands rose tree-crowned from the water,

+casting deep green reflections at their feet. Phil took a notebook from

+his pocket, and occasionally asking the name of an island, he wrote it

+in the book. Kathleen, understanding his intent, and knowing that he

+would not fulfil it because of greater satisfaction further on, smiled

+at her mother.

+

+"What did I tell you?" she asked.

+

+"Well, what did you?"

+

+"That he wouldn't know whether I was here or not."

+

+"Sh--!"

+

+"He can't hear me any more than if he were anæsthetized."

+

+"Hush, Kathleen."

+

+"I'll prove it." She raised her voice. "Mr. Sidney!"

+

+Phil not only did not reply, but after a moment more he moved away to

+another and more unobstructed spot.

+

+Kathleen gave a low laugh and Mrs. Fabian looked pleased.

+

+"He is enjoying it, isn't he?" she returned. "This day is a wonderful

+bit of good fortune. First impressions are so important. What made you

+expect him to behave like this?"

+

+"I think I must have a groping, artistic sense myself. At any rate,

+I knew what Casco Bay must do to an artist when he comes upon it all

+unprepared."

+

+Mrs. Fabian sighed. "Well, I'm glad our coming here does somebody some

+good. Are you going on forever calling that boy 'Mr.'? Of course, he

+can't be informal with you unless you will be so with him."

+

+"Mother dear, I tell you it doesn't matter," laughed the girl. "He has

+gone into a trance and he probably won't come out of it till the first

+fog. By that time, perhaps I shall feel entirely informal."

+

+Captain James stood on the pier when the boat approached Brewster's

+Island. Kathleen caught sight of him and waved her handkerchief.

+

+"Mother, it's time to go and make passes over Philip," she said. "He'll

+have to wake up."

+

+Mrs. Fabian went to the guest and touched him on the arm. For an hour

+and a half he had not addressed them.

+

+He started.

+

+"We're there, Phil," she said.

+

+He followed her, and glanced at Kathleen with a sensation of guilt. He

+seized the bags with an alacrity intended to offset his preoccupation.

+

+"It's a wonderful bay," he said.

+

+Kathleen was not regarding him. She was leaning over the rail, waving

+again toward a tall lean man on the wharf, who smiled, well-pleased,

+and jerked his head in her direction.

+

+Soon many passengers were streaming up the gangplank, and in a minute

+Kathleen was greeting the tall lean man with a gayety Phil had never

+before seen in her demeanor.

+

+Mrs. Fabian next shook hands with him, and introduced Phil, who, in the

+confusion and limitations of the commonplace wharf, had quite regained

+his normal alertness.

+

+"You gave us a very nice day, Cap'n James," said Mrs. Fabian

+graciously. "Where's the carriage?"

+

+"Waitin'. Can't take you all, I'm afraid. Mrs. Frick from down-along

+engaged me ahead."

+

+"Ahead of us?" inquired Mrs. Fabian superbly.

+

+"Got one seat," said Captain James. He was accustomed to Mrs. Fabian's

+autocracy.

+

+"That's all we want," said Kathleen. "Mr. Sidney and I will walk up."

+

+So Mrs. Fabian and the bags were stowed in the carriage and the young

+people were started on their walk before Tom had turned heavily into

+the road.

+

+"What air!" exclaimed Phil, as they struck into the deep grass.

+

+"One can live on it," agreed the girl.

+

+"Don't expect me to; I feel wonderful pangs already. Gramercy Park had

+nearly cured me of eating."

+

+He smiled down at his companion in the roseate veil tied under her

+chin, and she glanced up at the city pallor of his face. "I should

+think it might," she agreed. "Wait a week. We shall both look like

+tomatoes and feel like disembodied spirits."

+

+"I'm afraid I behaved like the latter, coming down the bay; but really

+I forgot everything. I want to study the boat-tables and go back to

+some of those wonderful shores."

+

+Kathleen smiled demurely. "This doesn't cut much of a figure by

+contrast, does it?" she said.

+

+They were crossing diagonally through a green field which led gently up

+to the island road.

+

+"It's beautifully fresh here," replied Phil politely, looking about the

+bare treeless expanse rolling up to a bluff against illimitable sky.

+

+A village store upon the road, a little school-house and a cottage or

+two, were all that was to be seen.

+

+Above, on Mrs. Wright's doorstep, Eliza Brewster was standing, opera

+glass in hand, watching the tall figure and the rosy veil coming up

+through the field. She had restrained herself from running down to

+the road, for she dreaded Mrs. Fabian, and Phil for the moment had

+forgotten that Eliza might be in the neighborhood. His eyes brightened

+as they reached the road. He had been privately wondering why the

+Fabians had chosen this unpromising island as their abiding place. Now

+he caught sight of the spreading cove, its brilliant banks dark with

+evergreen trees, while in sheltered spots maples and birches stood amid

+a riot of shrubs inviting the birds.

+

+"That's a fine cove," he said, his eyes fixed on the far reaches of the

+sea.

+

+"So the yachtsmen think," returned Kathleen.

+

+"Let's look at it a minute," said Phil.

+

+The girl paused obediently and a smile touched the corners of her lips.

+Phil's impersonality with regard to herself was novel; for Kathleen

+had the intangible quality called charm to such a degree that nothing

+masculine had ever before been able to approach so near to her without

+striving to win her favor.

+

+From that first Sunday in the stable studio she had perceived that if

+she were going to see more of this new factor in the family circle she

+must do the striving if she were to become a factor to him. A dread

+that she might desire to do this had beset her ever since, and warned

+her away from him with a sense of self-preservation.

+

+He stood forgetful of her now, and narrowed his eyes to the picture.

+

+"Well, have you looked enough?" she asked. "How are the pangs?"

+

+"Yes, yes," he replied hurriedly. "I can come back."

+

+"Certainly, we promise not to lock you up," she answered,

+half-laughing. "We'll get better views of it, too, as we go on," she

+added, and turned at a right angle into a green ribbon road leading up

+a second incline.

+

+Phil looked about vaguely, and followed her. He noticed on the crest

+above them a cottage of boulders and shingles.

+

+"Yours?" he asked.

+

+"Home, sweet home," she answered.

+

+Captain James passed them now with his load, and by the time they

+reached the cottage, Mrs. Fabian was on the steps to welcome them; but

+Philip was absorbed in the surprise which the summit of that hill gave

+the newcomer. Before him, but a few rods away, spread the Atlantic,

+foaming at the foot of the bluff. Distant islands came near in the

+crystal air, their outline defined by rocks, which in the distance

+seemed ribbons of sandy beach. The superb breadth of view, ending

+either in the horizon or in the irregular skyline of the mainland, took

+the breath of the unfamiliar.

+

+Mrs. Fabian straightened with pleasure in the spellbound look of her

+guest as, his hat dropped upon the grass, he gazed in silence. It was

+her island and her view. She started to speak, but Kathleen touched her

+finger to her lips with a suggestive smile; so the lady sank instead

+into a hammock chair. Her maid Molly came out of the house, greeted

+the ladies and carried in their bags, saying that dinner would be

+served whenever they were ready.

+

+Philip, from his stand below on the grass, turned and looked up at

+them, his eyes dark with the blue of the sea.

+

+"I understand now," he said, "why you haven't talked about it."

+

+"Come in and have something to eat," suggested his exultant hostess.

+"We have noon dinner. Kathleen simply refuses to shorten the day with a

+long evening meal."

+

+Philip gave the girl a brilliant smile of appreciation.

+

+"After dinner," went on Mrs. Fabian, "Kathleen will take you to walk to

+some of our pretty places."

+

+"No, indeed," said the girl hastily. "I understand just how Mr. Sidney

+will love to explore for himself. I wouldn't spoil his surprises."

+

+Philip said nothing to the contrary. His thoughts were absorbed

+taking mental stock of the materials he had brought, and he followed

+mechanically into the charming cottage whose every window framed a

+water scene, waves creaming upon the rocks which stretched granite

+fingers unceasingly to grasp them, while unceasingly they slipped away.

+

+As soon as Phil reached his room he threw open his suitcase with

+feverish haste and examined all the sketching paraphernalia he had

+packed so hastily.

+

+The music box which called to meals played all its tunes, but the guest

+did not appear. At last Mrs. Fabian sent Molly to knock on his door.

+

+"What a wonderful day," she said to Kathleen when they were alone, "and

+in June one is so likely to strike fog and rain. Now let it come. He

+has seen what Brewster's Island really is--or he will see when you have

+taken him about this afternoon. The only drawback to the whole trip so

+far has been your refusal to do that. How could you be so abrupt, my

+dear?"

+

+"Mother, don't try to manage an artist," replied the girl emphatically.

+"He will want only to be let alone. Can't you see it? And so do I."

+Kathleen looked remarkably defiant. "I want to be let alone. This is my

+vacation, too, remember. I have worked as hard as he has."

+

+Mrs. Fabian met her child's determined regard with surprise. Kathleen

+did look pale and thin, now that she had time to observe it. The heat

+of the train last night had not been conducive to sleep.

+

+"Very well, dear," she acquiesced with meekness. "Perhaps you ought to

+lie down this afternoon. I'm sure I shall. I'd like the very waves to

+be still."

+

+As she spoke the last word, Philip appeared and they sat down at table.

+The combination of the air and the delicious fresh sea-food to one

+long unaccustomed to home fare made the guest suspend all artistic

+calculations and do such justice to the dinner that Mrs. Fabian sighed.

+

+"It is such a satisfaction to have a man's appetite at the table,"

+she said, when Phil made laughing apology and referred to the city

+restaurants. "To-morrow we shall have two men."

+

+"To be sure," thought Phil. These were Edgar's mother and sister and

+home. Somehow he could not fit the _blasé_ society man into this

+Arcadia. He must make the most of to-day.

+

+As his hunger wore away he looked more and more from the windows. The

+dining-room might have been on a ship for the freedom of its vast sea

+views. When they rose from the table, he looked at Kathleen with

+boyish expectancy.

+

+"Are we going to walk?" he asked.

+

+Mrs. Fabian interposed with the best intentions. "I don't think

+Kathleen had better go, after all, Phil," she said. "She is very tired.

+She is going to lie down. You won't mind running about this first

+afternoon by yourself, I'm sure."

+

+Kathleen saw disappointment and then concern grow in the guest's face,

+for he suddenly observed that she was pale.

+

+"Nonsense, I wouldn't think of wasting time lying down," she said

+cheerfully. "Wait a few minutes. I'll be downstairs in a jiffy."

+

+Mrs. Fabian watched her as she ran lightly up the stairway.

+

+"Do you think she ought to go?" asked Phil doubtfully.

+

+"Philip," returned his hostess dryly, "don't ask me what I think. If

+you ever have a daughter twenty years old and just out of college, you

+will find the safest, wisest course is not to think at all." But she

+smiled as she said it; for this time Kathleen's waywardness was not

+displeasing.

+

+

+

+

+CHAPTER XIX

+

+FLASHES OF BLUE

+

+

+When Kathleen ran downstairs a little later, Phil looked at her in

+smiling surprise. The elegant Miss Fabian had disappeared. In her stead

+was a young girl, shorter by the height of a fashionable boot-heel, and

+with braided hair wound around her head, fastened by a broad bow of

+black ribbon. Her short, dark-blue skirt reached to her ankles and a

+Tam o' Shanter crowned her head.

+

+Phil turned to his hostess. "What a strong family resemblance your

+youngest bears to Miss Fabian. I should know she was her sister if I

+met her anywhere."

+

+"Yes, this is Kathleen, not Miss Fabian. Don't forget it. When you come

+back, I expect you to be treating each other as cousins should. Don't

+let her walk too far, Phil." Mrs. Fabian stifled a yawn. "I think I

+shall take a nap in the wind-break."

+

+She watched the pair as they moved away from the house. The breeze was

+tossing the short dark hair on Phil's uncovered head. Kathleen, in her

+rubber-soled, heelless shoes, scarcely reached his ear.

+

+"I'm glad now," mused Mrs. Fabian, "that Kathleen is a Van Ruysler

+iceberg. If she were a susceptible girl, I wouldn't wish her to be with

+that man a minute. What matter if he is a high-minded, fine chap? If he

+didn't care for her she'd suffer just the same." And Mrs. Fabian gave a

+yawn mightier than its predecessors and sought her favorite nook.

+

+Meantime Eliza Brewster was making restless sallies from the kitchen

+to the front room and gazing over toward the boulder cottage. She felt

+sure Phil would inquire about her, and not let too much time pass

+before he ran across the field to Mrs. Wright's.

+

+The dinner dishes were washed and cleared away and Eliza had on a clean

+gingham dress and white apron. Mrs. Wright saw her expectancy.

+

+"Mr. Sidney is a stranger in a strange land," she said. "He will be

+entirely dependent on his hosts this first day. Why shouldn't we run

+over there?" she added with a bright thought. "That's only island

+neighborliness."

+

+But Eliza shook her head.

+

+"It would be the very way to begin a new chapter," urged Mrs. Wright.

+

+Eliza gazed from the window by which she was sitting. In the evolution

+to health and peace which the winter had brought, her causes of offence

+had gradually retreated into greater perspective, and the broad calm

+outlook which Mrs. Wright brought to bear on the untoward as well as

+the agreeable events of life had affected the narrow hardness of her

+own observations. Nevertheless, to beard the lioness in her den on the

+very day of her arrival would be a feat entirely beyond Eliza; so she

+only shook her head again, put on a shade hat, turned up the skirt of

+her dress, and went out to weed the sweet peas.

+

+Thus it was that, with her back to the boulder cottage and her hands

+busy with the earth she loved, she did not hear steps that approached

+on the springy turf; and the first notice she had of the arrival of

+callers was a man's voice speaking above her.

+

+"Doing finely, aren't they?" was the remark.

+

+Well she knew the voice. She stepped on her petticoat in her haste to

+arise, and two strong hands went under her arms and lifted her to her

+feet.

+

+"Mr. Philip!" she said gladly.

+

+He was laughing down at her, and Pluto was on his shoulder. Kathleen

+Fabian stood a few feet away, and Eliza nodded a greeting to her

+while she allowed Phil to shake both her hands, green stains and all.

+Mrs. Wright, seeing them from a window, came out to welcome Kathleen

+and meet Phil, and the usual felicitations on the weather and first

+impressions followed.

+

+"I can see," said Phil, "that I am going to be miserly of my days. I

+was just asking Miss Kathleen if all this beauty is liable to vanish in

+a fog-bank to-morrow."

+

+"And she told you not at all liable, I'm sure," said Mrs. Wright; "but

+if it does--that is the beauty of the island--you'll sit before a

+blazing open fire and enjoy that quite as well." Phil shook his head.

+"The mere amazement of enjoying a fire at the end of the past week

+would, indeed, be absorbing for a while; but I want to try my hand at

+this--this new world." He looked off at the blue of the crested waves

+and the blue of the distant hills. "We are just on our way to the boat

+now to send a night letter to Pat to get him to send on some stuff. I'm

+glad you're such a near neighbor, Eliza. I shall be seeing you often."

+

+"I'll not waste your time now asking you into the house," said Mrs.

+Wright, "but some wet day you must come in and try our fireplace. When

+does your brother come, Miss Kathleen?"

+

+"To-morrow; and your niece, Mrs. Wright?"

+

+"In another week, I think. I long to get hold of the child."

+

+After a few more amenities, in which Eliza took but little part, except

+to gaze at Phil with wistful eyes, the young people started for the

+wharf.

+

+"What a bonny young man," said Mrs. Wright, looking after them.

+

+"Ain't he just about right?" agreed Eliza proudly. "You see there ain't

+any philanderin' there. He just wants to work and work. Here, Pluto!

+Kitty, kitty," for the cat was running after the departing couple. He

+paused, not from obedience, but because he saw that their course lay

+downhill and he preferred a sheltered sunny corner by the step.

+

+Phil sent his night letter by the purser of the boat, and the two went

+back up the hill. Mrs. Fabian beckoned to them from the veranda.

+

+"I thought you would be asleep by this time," said Kathleen.

+

+"I thought I would, too," returned Mrs. Fabian. "Come here and let me

+show you how careless Cap'n James has been."

+

+They followed her to the shelter of the windbreak where her favorite

+hammock hung, and whirring wings nearly brushed Phil's face as they

+entered. The nook was enclosed on two sides with glass, and Mrs. Fabian

+pointed to the snug lofty corner where the swallows had nested. The

+young were grown and one had ventured out upon a beam.

+

+"Oh, oh!" exclaimed Kathleen, with soft delight. "We're in time for

+the coming-out party. Come here, mother, you're frightening them." And

+Mrs. Fabian found herself seized unsympathetically and drawn to a safe

+distance.

+

+"But I must sleep, Kathleen. I'm exhausted. I was just dozing off when

+those creatures swooped across me chattering. I nearly jumped out of

+the hammock. It was a nervous shock."

+

+"I suppose," said the girl, "they were saying, 'Why couldn't those big

+clumsy human beings have stayed away just one more day!' You must be a

+mascot, Phil, so many fortunate happenings for your first day."

+

+She was quite unconscious that the name had slipped out, and the guest

+smiled and seated himself on the railing near her while Mrs. Fabian in

+a rocking-chair began to be consoled for her lost nap.

+

+"Perhaps you would prefer to go on exploring," added Kathleen, "but I

+really can't miss this function."

+

+"I wouldn't miss it for a farm," responded the guest, eyes fixed on the

+nest.

+

+Mrs. Fabian pulled her chair so that its rockers scraped the boards.

+

+"We must all be still as mice," warned Kathleen softly.

+

+Her mother looked up at the seething nest with disfavor. Since her

+young people considered the show such a treat, she would be obliged to

+edit the lecture she had been preparing for Captain James. The parent

+birds flew in and out in a state of great excitement, and one of them

+fed the venturesome little fellow on the beam, whereupon the others

+stretched their necks and vociferated with wide mouths.

+

+"But they're so slow," complained Mrs. Fabian. "Why don't they fly and

+be done with it? I can hardly keep my eyes open."

+

+"They may not go for an hour, or perhaps all night--oh, if they are

+so unkind as to wait until we're all asleep to-morrow morning!" said

+Kathleen.

+

+"Then I don't know that I shall wait," said Mrs. Fabian.

+

+"Perhaps you'd better not," agreed the girl, her eyes fixed on the

+young bird lest he should elude her. "We're none of us invited to this

+party, you see."

+

+Upon this, the venturesome little swallow appeared to have an attack

+of homesickness, for, instead of flying away, he hopped back to the

+nest, where he immediately became very unpopular with his brothers and

+sisters. Whatever the spot into which he had this morning fitted so

+snugly, it seemed to have disappeared.

+

+"Well, did you ever!" exclaimed Mrs. Fabian in exasperation. "Why

+couldn't Phil climb up there and set them all out on the beam and take

+the nest down. I'm sure it would just help them along."

+

+"Worse than pulling open a rosebud," said Kathleen.

+

+"Very well, then," returned Mrs. Fabian. "I shall go upstairs."

+

+No one objecting, she rose and suited the action to the word; and

+Kathleen and Phil were left to a welcome solitude.

+

+The parent swallows soon ceased to notice the two large, strange birds

+perched on the veranda railing below.

+

+Kathleen had discarded her Tam and as she sat between Phil and the

+wind-break, the sun gave him the red glints in her "reserved hair."

+

+The tide was going out, but rushing with a splendid sweep toward the

+foot of their hill, the sky had occasional billows of downy white lying

+against its clear blue. The sweet wind swept the fresh grass where

+daisies were beginning to appear, and all down the irregular coast-line

+of the island the snowy foam broke on rock and sand.

+

+The iridescent blue of the swallows' backs and the delicate rose of

+their breasts lent an exquisite touch of color, as they flew and

+wheeled in the curving flight designed to tempt the solemn-faced young,

+crowded so uncomfortably in the outgrown nest.

+

+Again one struggled out upon the beam. The cunning parents fed it,

+while the others begged in vain. Then again the old birds were away in

+airy flight.

+

+"Come out, come out in the sunshine," they seemed to cry, wheeling back

+toward the nest. "Come out to the ecstasy of wind and waves. The whole

+world, the world of sea and sky, is ours."

+

+Kathleen for an instant turned about to her companion. "Do you see how

+he can resist?" she asked.

+

+"Kathleen!" exclaimed Phil.

+

+She turned back, but too late. In that instant the young bird on the

+beam had flown.

+

+"They're right there, though," said Phil excitedly, and indeed the

+birds kept wheeling above the bluff, when, wonder of wonders, the other

+young ones, struggling to the edge of the nest as if unable to resist

+the intoxication of the sight, flew out into the open.

+

+For a minute the bright air was astir with the whir of wings. It was

+impossible to distinguish the young birds from the old; then they all

+alighted on the ridge-pole of a small summer house which stood on the

+edge of the bluff.

+

+Kathleen turned to Phil, her hands clasped on her breast. He thought

+her enchanted eyes and smile suggested the unlocking of one of her

+inner doors.

+

+"Yes," he replied, nodding, "I never saw anything prettier than that."

+

+The girl looked back at the summer house. The birds were still sitting

+there all in a row. The two watched until again wings were afloat in

+the bright air; then they ran down the steps to see what would be the

+next resting-place, and saw the birds alight on posts and netting about

+the tennis court. When again they flew, they disappeared.

+

+Kathleen sighed. "In my next incarnation," she said, "I choose to be a

+swallow on Brewster's Island."

+

+"Then," said Phil, looking at her radiant face, "I'm glad I happened to

+be a man during your present one."

+

+The open door closed. Phil thought he could almost hear it click. In an

+instant the dark eyes were the reflective ones he had known.

+

+"Thank you kindly, sir," she said. "That was good fun. Shall we go on

+now with our interrupted walk?"

+

+He continued to regard her. "I have an idea that you have walked

+enough. Twice up and down this hill and over to Mrs. Wright's is

+enough."

+

+"Ho!" returned the girl lightly, "I walk all day here."

+

+"Yes, after you have cooled off and slept for a night or two; but I

+suggest the hammock now."

+

+They were standing in the shade and not a hint of red showed in the

+girl's soft hair. "There are weeks to rest in," she said. "We ought to

+make the most of this perfect day."

+

+Phil still regarded her. The excitement of the closing college

+experiences and the city heat had left their mark; and he did not know

+of other and deeper reasons for her weariness. The flush of pleasure in

+the swallow ball had departed.

+

+"Come," he said decidedly, "let's try the hammock."

+

+"Really, Mr. Sidney," she answered, smiling, "I know when I'm tired."

+

+But he proceeded up the veranda steps and she followed him into the

+wind-break.

+

+"I'm willing," he said, "to go two steps forward and one back in my

+acquaintance with you; but I draw the line at two back. It sounded very

+friendly a few minutes ago when you called me Phil. I hope you'll see

+your way clear to doing it again sometime."

+

+While he spoke, Philip was testing the ropes of the hammock.

+

+"Oh, I'm sure I didn't call you Phil," she said in surprise.

+

+"Let me see. Did I call you Kathleen?"

+

+"I think you did," she replied, a delicate formality in her voice; "but

+the circumstances certainly excused it."

+

+"I hope they will continue to excuse it, for I feel it coming on that I

+shall do it again. You took off Miss Fabian with your tailor gown." He

+turned and faced her. "Didn't you?" he added.

+

+She shrugged her shoulders, and smiled again. "Perhaps."

+

+"Then get right down on this couch, little Kathleen," he ordered,

+smiling, and after a moment's hesitation the girl obeyed. He drew

+over her the linen coverlet that had lain on a neighboring chair, and

+looked, not at her, but with fascinated eyes through the broad sheets

+of glass which guarded the hammock from the wind.

+

+"Now, if you can feel sober enough to sleep in this intoxicating place,

+do so," he said.

+

+Kathleen, propped high on cushions, folded her arms beneath her head.

+

+"But isn't it questionable courtesy for both your hostesses to go to

+sleep, no matter how sober they may be?" she asked.

+

+"There's another hostess here," he returned, with a brilliant look down

+into her uplifted eyes.

+

+"Yes, I know," said Kathleen.

+

+"My best girl," said Phil, moving out of the wind-break.

+

+Kathleen smiled. "Yes, I like her, too," she answered. "I never had a

+lonely moment on this island in my life; so I shall not worry about

+you. There's another hammock around on the other side of the porch. Why

+don't you go to sleep yourself?"

+

+"Because I'm afraid I should wake up in Gramercy Park," returned Phil,

+and, vaulting over the porch railing, he disappeared from Kathleen's

+view.

+

+Walking to the back of the house, he gazed down at the waters of the

+cove, then across the field to the long low white farmhouse where he

+had found Eliza, then back again at the water. "Miss Manning said I

+should stay here if I had to live under a rock," he reflected.

+

+One week: one week was all he had planned for, although Mrs. Fabian had

+pressed him for two.

+

+What were two weeks now in prospect? He knew his aunt would welcome him

+for an indefinite stay, but Kathleen doubtless had plans for guests,

+and moreover Edgar's advent was but one little night away. He shuddered

+at the prospect of the gilded youth's questions and comments on his

+work.

+

+He decided to walk around the edge of the island. Then he looked back

+toward Mrs. Wright's house. He remembered the look of disappointment in

+the depths of Eliza's shade hat when he had paid the fleeting visit on

+his way to the wharf.

+

+"I'll go to see her once more," he reflected, "and have her off my

+mind, for I'm afraid I shall forget when I get a little deeper in here."

+

+Accordingly, he moved off with long swinging steps through the soft

+deep grass, and Mrs. Wright saw him coming. She was sitting with her

+book on the rustic bench which took the place of piazza at the old

+farmhouse.

+

+"Eliza," she called, "your young man is coming back."

+

+It was an hour afterward that Mrs. Fabian, her grudge against the

+swallows mollified by a nap, came downstairs to the living-room to

+reconnoitre. All was so still that she knew that either those dull

+birds were still dawdling, or else that her young people had seen them

+off and were away again.

+

+She peered from a window into the glass enclosure, and to her surprise

+saw her daughter asleep in the hammock. How slender and pale looked the

+sleeping face.

+

+"Poor child. She's worn out, I wonder where Phil is."

+

+As if the gaze had disturbed the sleeper, Kathleen turned on her pillow

+and opened her eyes.

+

+Mrs. Fabian promptly left the house and came out to her swinging couch.

+

+"So you took forty winks, too," she said, casting a glance up at the

+deserted nest. "Where's Phil?"

+

+"I don't know," returned Kathleen languidly. "I scarcely know where I

+am."

+

+"I hope I didn't wake you, gazing from the window; but it's no use your

+trying to sleep again, for Cap'n James is coming up at last with the

+trunks. Kathleen, I've had a bright idea," added Mrs. Fabian alertly.

+

+The girl stifled a yawn.

+

+"You know Phil won't stay here unless he's working. I'm going to have

+him do our portraits for father's Christmas present!"

+

+Kathleen was wide awake instantly.

+

+"It would cost so much, mother," she said.

+

+Mrs. Fabian stared at her. "What an idea!" she retorted. "Phil hasn't

+come to enormous prices yet!"

+

+"But you would not want to pay him a small price. It wouldn't be right."

+

+"Since when have you become so economical?" asked Mrs. Fabian,

+laughing. "After Christmas, I must tell your father of this talk. How

+he will laugh. You and Edgar should be shaken up. Phil's sketches of

+his mother show his gift for getting likeness. I don't know whether he

+has ever painted a portrait, but I have every confidence in him."

+

+"Then have yours done, dear," said Kathleen. "You're looking as well as

+usual, but nothing would hire me to have my lantern jaws perpetuated."

+

+"Oh, a week or two of this will make you bloom, child."

+

+"Yes, especially my nose," returned the girl.

+

+Her thoughts were working fast. She had been happy in the thought that

+they were now in the place where neither her mother nor Edgar could

+commit themselves to any large expense. Her father had said that by

+autumn he should know where he stood. She could not say any more,

+however, for Captain James's wagon had arrived, and Mrs. Fabian went

+to see to the disposition of the trunks and to give her caretaker

+explicit low-voiced directions as to examining for and eliminating any

+and all birds' nests found in future on the premises, and at last she

+brought him around to the wind-break to point out the one he was to

+remove now, with all its traces, at the earliest possible moment.

+

+Kathleen, still lying, her hands clasped under her head, looked up at

+him with a smile.

+

+"I'm so glad you didn't notice that nest any sooner, Cap'n James," she

+said. "You might have disturbed it."

+

+Captain James chewed a wisp of grass and favored the girl with a wink.

+

+"It wasn't like you," said Mrs. Fabian, with elaborately gentle rebuke,

+"not to have this wind-break cleaner. Look at the windows."

+

+"I had Betsy Eaton wash 'em on the outside," said the captain

+imperturbably, and winked at Kathleen again.

+

+"It was fine of you, Cap'n James," she laughed. "They flew to-day, and

+I was at the party."

+

+Mrs. Fabian looked from one to the other of the laughing ones, in

+injured dignity.

+

+"Very well," she said at last; "now, if you're quite sure it won't

+disturb the plans of man or beast, Cap'n James, I'd like to have this

+wind-break cleaned."

+

+"'Nuff said," returned the man, and once more grinning down at the

+girl's laughing face, he went back to his helper sitting on the wagon.

+

+

+

+

+CHAPTER XX

+

+ELIZA SURRENDERS

+

+

+Eliza had begun some work in the kitchen which she could not at once

+leave when Mrs. Wright called her, so the latter brought Phil into the

+house.

+

+"No wonder Eliza didn't expect me twice a day," he said. "What an

+interesting old place this is."

+

+"Yes," answered Mrs. Wright; "and we are making the most of the few

+days that it will still be all ours. Miss Jane Foster, who owns it,

+comes almost immediately to take possession and receive her summer

+boarders."

+

+"But won't that be a rest for you?"

+

+"Scarcely; for Eliza has taken such a laboring oar that I live in the

+lap of luxury, so far as work is concerned."

+

+Eliza came in, in time to hear this statement. "Don't you believe it,

+Mr. Philip. She's the busy bee of the house; but we've both had just

+enough to do."

+

+"Eliza!" exclaimed Phil, approaching and taking both her hard hands.

+"Why, I didn't half see you in that shade hat! You look like a new

+being."

+

+Eliza laughed and colored under the scrutiny. Her added pounds had

+distributed themselves comfortably and becomingly. She did, indeed,

+bear little resemblance to the haggard creature of the autumn.

+

+"Why, let me look at you!" went on the artist gladly. "You've robbed

+me of a whole lot of good material. If you posed for me now, it would

+amount to nothing more than the portrait of a lady."

+

+Mrs. Wright laughed, well pleased, and amused, too, at the embarrassed

+manner in which Eliza pulled away her hands.

+

+"But you stay on here, I suppose, just the same," said Phil, turning

+back to his hostess.

+

+"Oh, yes. I've taken a room for Violet, my niece, and Miss Foster has

+made a business arrangement with Eliza to be her helper, so the only

+great difference will be the arrival of new people."

+

+Considerations immediately ran through Phil's head of this home as a

+possibility for his prolonged stay. Second thought, however, pictured

+the going and coming of summer boarders and the impossibility of

+privacy. Besides, he could not afford it.

+

+He picked up a small black book which his eye had caught lying beside

+the Bible on Mrs. Wright's table.

+

+"Oh!" he said, raising his eyebrows and looking at her with a smile.

+

+"Do you know it?" she asked.

+

+"My mother lives by it," he returned.

+

+"Then her boy does, I'm sure," said Mrs. Wright.

+

+"He tries to," answered Phil. "I was just thinking now of our

+philosophy, and trying to know that, if it's right for me to stay on

+this island, it will come to pass. I feel as if I could do a lot of

+work here."

+

+"Mrs. Fabian will have too much of a houseful?"

+

+"Perhaps not; but there couldn't be any independence in that; and I

+couldn't bring paint rags into her spick-and-span cottage."

+

+"Take board here," suggested Mrs. Wright.

+

+Phil shook his head. "I don't want to give the price for a long pull.

+Miss Manning prophesied that I should live under a rock rather than

+leave. I'll go rock-hunting some day."

+

+"There must be some way, Mr. Philip!" exclaimed Eliza, who had

+listened attentively. The intensity of her manner reminded Phil of

+other days.

+

+"You should have more stables on the island," he returned. "It's very

+thoughtless of you."

+

+"We can all help him, remember, Eliza," said Mrs. Wright--"you know

+I've told you--by thinking right."

+

+"Goodness knows, I'd think anything that'd keep him here," returned

+Eliza bluntly. "He's as white as a candle, and it makes me sick to

+think o' the perspiration runnin' into his eyes. What d'you want me to

+think? I'll say the moon's made o' green cheese, if it'll do any good."

+

+"No, it only does good to think the truth. It's law. You remember how

+I've told you that we live under laws and they aren't material ones?

+Our thoughts are our whole concern. Get thought right, and action takes

+care of itself. You're stopping up one of the channels through which

+good can come to you and yours. You consider Mr. Sidney one of yours,

+I'm sure."

+

+Eliza averted her eyes uncomfortably.

+

+"Yes," went on Mrs. Wright, smiling, "I'm speaking right out in

+meeting, because you've told me that Mr. Sidney knows of your

+antagonism."

+

+"She's talkin' about the barrel," remarked Eliza dryly.

+

+"Oh, the barrel!" laughed Phil. "I'd forgotten about that. So has Aunt

+Isabel, I fancy."

+

+"I'll bet a cookie she went to your room and tried to get it," said

+Eliza, eyeing him shrewdly.

+

+Phil nodded. "Yes, she did."

+

+Eliza struck her hands together with satisfaction. "I'd give more'n a

+cookie to have seen her face when she got there," she said triumphantly.

+

+"No, I wasn't talking about the barrel," continued Mrs. Wright. "That

+is your own affair: whether you care to keep those family treasures

+or to give them up. I was speaking in general about your forgiving

+Mrs. Fabian as you would be forgiven, and banishing discord from the

+atmosphere. How can you tell how much sunlight that cloud is holding

+back from this dear boy of Mrs. Ballard's?"

+

+Eliza stared into space and bit her lip. The three were standing in a

+group near the table.

+

+"Well, sit down, anyway," she said briefly, and they did so.

+

+Phil saw that there was method in Mrs. Wright's choosing of this

+particular opportunity to make a point. Hers was the face of a

+peacemaker and it was easy to see what pain she would find in discord.

+

+Now she turned to Phil and asked him about his father and mother, and

+he told her of the mountains, and his periodical longing for them. This

+place, he added, gave him a similar sense of exhilaration. It seemed as

+if he were breathing again for the first time since November.

+

+"You've got to stay," said Eliza nervously; "that's all there is about

+it."

+

+He smiled. "The bark on a tree isn't as tight as I am," he replied.

+"I've planned to make my money do just so much."

+

+"'With God all things are possible,'" remarked Mrs. Wright.

+

+"Yes," he laughed; "I'm going to look for a cave with a skylight."

+

+Eliza's thoughts were painfully busy. The constant dropping of the

+winter had made an impression on their adamant. Supposing there should

+be anything in what Mrs. Wright just said. Supposing God were to punish

+her for continuing to hate an enemy; punish her by holding back some

+benefit from her dear one's _protégé_.

+

+She stirred around in her chair during a pause. "I've been thinkin'

+to-day," she said carelessly, "that I didn't exactly know what I was

+goin' to do with that barrel. I've got to bring it down from upstairs

+before Jennie gets here."

+

+"Let me do that for you," said Phil quickly. "I've been honing to lift

+something heavy all the afternoon. I've felt as if I could lick my

+weight in wild cats ever since dinner."

+

+He started up with such eagerness that Eliza mechanically arose and

+went to the stairs, Phil following; and Mrs. Wright, a hopeful light in

+her eyes, looked on.

+

+"We've got to get these rooms ready for boarders," explained Eliza as

+they went up to the second story. "It's real clever of you to lug the

+barrel down for me."

+

+Phil smiled covertly as he recognized the old bone of contention with

+the flourishing address he had executed, and he steered it down the

+narrow stairs successfully.

+

+Eliza had preceded him nimbly.

+

+As soon as she reached the living-room, Mrs. Wright approached her.

+

+"Where are you going to put it?" she asked, looking wistfully at Eliza.

+

+"Oh, anywhere," replied the latter with bravado.

+

+"Jane wouldn't like it in here, of course," remarked Mrs. Wright.

+

+"Well, I suppose I have a right to my own room, haven't I?" Eliza

+retorted sharply.

+

+"Wouldn't it be very much in the way, dear? You have it fixed so pretty

+in there."

+

+"Well, what's the reason it can't stand in the shed?" asked Eliza, with

+defiance.

+

+Mrs. Wright shook her head. "'Where moth and rust doth corrupt,'" she

+said slowly.

+

+Phil now had the barrel down, and was standing beside it, waiting.

+

+"Whither away, now?" he asked.

+

+"Eliza," said Mrs. Wright, "there's a wheelbarrow out in the shed."

+

+Eliza colored and bit her lip. "Do you know," she said, turning to

+Phil, "Mrs. Wright wants me to give those things to Mrs. Fabian?"

+

+"Well, it would tickle Aunt Isabel almost to pieces," he admitted.

+

+"Do you see any reason or justice in it?"

+

+Phil smiled. "It's a luxury to do an unreasonable thing once in a

+while," he answered.

+

+"If I thought it would do you the least bit o' good," said Eliza, "I'd

+do anything. I'd find a white hair in a black dog's tail and burn it

+by the light o' the moon, at midnight," she added scornfully; "but

+unluckily I ain't superstitious."

+

+Phil glanced at Mrs. Wright's sweet, earnest face, and understood that

+she had thought deeply of the prospect of discord between the two

+cottages.

+

+"Come on, Eliza," he said, with boyish enthusiasm, "it would be great

+fun to see Aunt Isabel's face. Even if you were after revenge, coals of

+fire are a mighty punishment, and if you're only being magnanimous and

+letting bygones be bygones why, who knows but it will be the means of

+my finding the cave with the skylight?"

+

+Eliza turned away suddenly from his laughing eyes. "All right," she

+said, "take it! I'll show you where the wheelbarrow is; and when you've

+got it across that hubbly field you won't be looking for wild cats to

+fight."

+

+"Oh, but you'll steady the barrel."

+

+"Will I! Well, you can guess again, young man." Eliza's eyes flashed.

+

+"Oh, pshaw," he said. "Don't make two bites of a cherry. If the barrel

+goes, you go."

+

+Eliza met his gay, determined look with exasperation.

+

+"This is persecution," she declared angrily; then added beseechingly,

+"Don't make me, Mr. Philip."

+

+"I couldn't let you miss it," he returned. "We have the white hair of

+the black dog, but, you see, we have to burn it."

+

+Eliza looked appealingly toward Mrs. Wright, whose face was expectant.

+

+"Dear Eliza," she said.

+

+"Don't you 'dear' me," snapped Eliza. "Come this way, Mr. Philip."

+

+She marched out of the room, and Mrs. Wright seized and squeezed Phil's

+hand as he passed. He gave her a laughing look.

+

+Soon the march across the field began. Mrs. Wright watched them

+from the window. Eliza, her shade hat tied primly down beneath her

+chin, steadied the barrel when Phil's route encountered too great an

+irregularity.

+

+"Dear martyr," thought Mrs. Wright, who had caught a glimpse of

+her companion's expression as they moved away. "She does love that

+beautiful boy. I hope her reward will come soon."

+

+Captain James had just driven back down the hill after bringing up the

+trunks when Phil and Eliza reached the shaven sward about the Fabian

+cottage.

+

+Phil dropped the wheelbarrow at the steps.

+

+"Wait here a minute, Eliza, till I reconnoitre," he said. "This was a

+sleeping castle when I left."

+

+"Now, if they're asleep--" said Eliza, hastily and hopefully; but Phil

+had disappeared quietly around the corner which led to the windbreak.

+As he approached, the sound of voices mingled with the tide, so he

+advanced with confidence.

+

+Kathleen was sitting on the edge of the hammock facing her mother, who

+looked around as Phil came in view.

+

+"Here we are, awake at last," she said. "Where have you been? How well

+you look! You have quite a flush."

+

+He came close to her. "I've been helping Eliza Brewster bring you a

+present," he said.

+

+Mrs. Fabian was all attention, but a look of resentment spread over her

+countenance.

+

+"She is here with me," went on Phil, low and rapidly. "It means a good

+deal, you know. I hope you will be very nice to her."

+

+Kathleen, alertly comprehending, rose from the hammock and moved past

+her mother and around to where Eliza stood by the steps, schooling

+herself.

+

+"You can't get out of a barrel what ain't in it," she reflected.

+"'Tain't any use tappin' a barrel o' vinegar and bein' mad 'cause maple

+syrup don't come out."

+

+"You scarcely spoke to me this morning," said Kathleen pleasantly, "you

+were so glad to see Mr. Sidney."

+

+Eliza shook hands awkwardly. Kathleen Fabian seemed even to her

+prejudice to ring true. "She don't inherit vinegar," thought Eliza. "I

+don't know why I shouldn't give her the benefit o' the doubt. Maybe she

+is maple clear through."

+

+Mrs. Fabian now came in stately fashion around the corner into view.

+Her eyes caught sight of the barrel and glistened. It was almost

+impossible to believe that--

+

+"How do you do, Eliza?" she said, in mellifluous tones. "Mr. Sidney

+tells me you wish to see me--"

+

+"Yes, about this barrel," interrupted Eliza, with nervous haste. "It's

+some o' the things Mrs. Ballard left me that I thought you'd enjoy

+havin'. It's her silver and china, just as I packed 'em in New York. I

+haven't taken out anything."

+

+"Why, really, Eliza, do you know, I appreciate that very much," said

+Mrs. Fabian graciously, "and I shall enjoy them far more here than I

+could in New York. I--"

+

+"Yes,'m," said Eliza, "I've got to hurry back to get supper. We have a

+real early tea."

+

+"No, not until you've come in and seen where Aunt Mary's things are to

+be. I really couldn't allow you to go without sitting down a minute to

+rest."

+

+"No, no, thank you," said Eliza, more hurriedly.

+

+"Perhaps you did come in and see the cottage while it was being

+prepared for us."

+

+"No, ma'am," returned Eliza, arrested in flight. "I've never been as

+near to it as this."

+

+"I wish you would come in, then," said Kathleen. "We think it's very

+pretty."

+

+So Eliza yielded, and Phil followed her into the house, showing her the

+views from the windows, and before she came out again she had exchanged

+remarks with Mrs. Fabian on the increased price of lobsters and other

+practical subjects.

+

+"Really quite human," commented Mrs. Fabian when the guest had departed.

+

+"And how well she looks," said Kathleen.

+

+"Now," remarked her mother complacently, "you see my own has come to

+me. I knew Eliza was half-crazy last autumn. I just anticipate pulling

+over those funny old things."

+

+Meanwhile Phil and Eliza were retracing their steps across the field.

+

+"There! that didn't hurt much, did it?" he asked.

+

+"I haven't got much use for her," replied Eliza, "but I do believe

+Kathleen Fabian's a sensible girl."

+

+"Our friend Edgar is coming to-morrow," remarked Phil.

+

+Eliza looked up at him shrewdly from beneath the shade hat. "Is that

+the reason you want to be a cave man?"

+

+Phil laughed. "Perhaps it's one," he admitted. "He's a

+rather--well--pervasive person, we'll say. I need elbow room to

+work. Isn't this a great place, Eliza?" The speaker's eyes swept the

+surroundings. "You're farther from the sea than the Fabians. You have a

+grand orchard, I see," added Phil, laughing; "or does it belong to that

+little cottage over there?"

+

+"Where? Oh, you mean the chicken-house?"

+

+"Chicken-house! Are the hens here so high-toned they have to have

+windows besides their roosts? There are places out West where the

+reason for the cows giving little milk is said to be because they

+become so enchanted with the scenery that they forget to eat. I suppose

+those hens go up to the second floor to watch the sunset."

+

+Phil looked curiously at the little story and a half building guarded

+by the balm-of-Gilead trees.

+

+"Law, there ain't any hens there," replied Eliza. "A pig wouldn't live

+there now. I'm itchin' to burn it down, it's so dirty."

+

+"Nobody lives there?" asked Phil.

+

+"No, not since Granny Foster that it was built for. She scared us

+children out of our wits in her time, and I s'pose we pestered her,

+'cause of course we was imps and couldn't keep away. We'd rather play

+tricks on her than eat, but only a few got their courage up to do more

+than knock on the door and run away. That door! My! to think I can walk

+up to it and open it. It seems wonderful even now."

+

+"Let's go and open it," said Phil, eagerly, beginning to stride in that

+direction.

+

+"Oh, no, Mr. Philip, keep away. It's too dirty and musty in there for

+words. Jennie quit keepin' hens a long time ago, and I guess she just

+let it rot away there, 'cause 'twa'n't worth cleanin'!"

+

+"Oh, but I want to see where little Eliza was scared," persisted Phil,

+hurrying so fast that Eliza was obliged to run after him. She stood

+away a little, though, with her long nose lifted while he opened the

+door and his eager eyes swept the interior.

+

+"Don't you go in there, oh, don't, Mr. Philip," she said. "I can tell

+you just what there is, a parlor and a kitchen, and a rough kind o'

+steps that go upstairs where there's only half a floor. It would make a

+grand bonfire. I wish Jennie'd let us."

+

+"She owns it, does she? The woman that's going to keep your

+boarding-house?"

+

+"Oh, yes; all this land's hers and the orchard."

+

+Phil closed the dingy door and walked around back of the cottage.

+Apparently, Granny Foster had liked the view of the open ocean,

+contrary to the taste of most of the women on the island, who had good

+reason to dread its mighty power. At any rate, while the front of the

+little house grew straight out of the grass, the back had once boasted

+a piazza, which had fallen away and capsized in the field which ran

+down to the water's edge.

+

+"What a view your old lady had!" said Phil, standing still and

+listening to the rustling leaves that whispered in the orchard.

+

+"'Tis a sightly place," said Eliza.

+

+The artist looked with starry eyes over the little cottage again and

+then at his companion.

+

+"It's wonderful," he said.

+

+"'M-h'm," agreed Eliza; "and it'll do you all the good in the world if

+you can only stay here."

+

+Phil's radiant smile beamed upon her.

+

+"Why, I'm going to stay. Can't you see what I'm thinking?"

+

+"No," replied Eliza, staring at him curiously.

+

+"I've found my cave." He waved his hand toward the chicken-house. "Do

+you think Jennie'll let me have it?"

+

+"Mr. Philip!" exclaimed Eliza distractedly, clasping her hard hands as

+his meaning broke upon her. "There ain't any use to talk about it even!

+How could I ever clean that place for you!"

+

+"I shan't let you touch it! Hurrah!" exclaimed the artist, turning a

+somersault in the grass and coming right-side up so suddenly that Eliza

+blinked.

+

+"Oh, my sorrows and cares!" she mourned; "it's the craziest idea"--

+

+"When, when did you say she's coming?"

+

+"To-morrow. Dear, dear!" Eliza was half laughing and half crying.

+

+"Then I've only to wait one night. Oh, it's too good to be true, like

+everything else that happens to me." Another flight of long arms and

+legs accompanied by a whoop of joy, and once more Phil was right-side

+up and catching Eliza by the arm.

+

+"Let's go and tell Mrs. Wright," he exclaimed, and hurried his

+companion toward the farmhouse, where Mrs. Wright was sitting on the

+rustic bench.

+

+"He's crazy," declared Eliza. "Tell him so. There must be lots o'

+better places. That wouldn't smell good in a thousand years."

+

+But when Phil had divulged his great plan, Mrs. Wright nodded.

+

+"The very thing," she said. "I'm sure Jane will let you use it free,

+and be glad to have it put in shape. Then you can take as many or as

+few meals here as you like."

+

+Her calm, happy approval closed Eliza's lips in a desperate silence.

+

+"I must rush back to my hostesses," said Phil. "Hurrah for us, Eliza.

+I'll go to every boat to meet Jennie."

+

+He started across the field on a long, swinging run.

+

+"Splendid boy," mused Mrs. Wright, aloud, looking after him.

+

+Eliza had sunk on the bench, dumb.

+

+"Now, then," her friend turned to her; "see how you've helped him."

+

+Eliza's eyes snapped. "Do you mean to say," she retorted, speaking fast

+and defiantly, "that if I hadn't gone over to Mrs. Fabian's and given

+her the dishes, he wouldn't 'a' found that chicken-house?"

+

+Mrs. Wright smiled and shook her head.

+

+"There's only one thing I know, Eliza," she said with deliberation,

+"and that is that Love is Omnipotence, and that in every problem we

+mortals have the choice of looking down into error and discord, or up

+into Truth and Harmony."

+

+Eliza's breath caught in her throat, and she felt so strangely stirred

+that she rose abruptly and went into the house.

+

+

+

+

+CHAPTER XXI

+

+THE SINGER

+

+

+The combination of at last having a definite aim in life, and the

+cutting rebuke received in his father's library, had caused Edgar

+Fabian to wake up.

+

+On the hot morning when he took the train for Portland, he even looked

+a little pale from the unwonted vigil of the night before. As he tossed

+on his bed in the small hours, he had fretted at the heat, but it

+was not temperature that made him survey the causes for his father's

+drastic words; and he recalled the emotion which Kathleen had not been

+able to conceal with a sort of affectionate dismay. Kathleen was a good

+sort, after all. She had worked for him, he knew, and mitigated the

+situation so far as she could.

+

+"Father wants to be shown, does he?" he thought, clenching his teeth.

+"Well, I'll show him. I will."

+

+His soul was still smarting when he boarded the train in the breathless

+station and the porter carried his suitcase to his chair in the day

+coach.

+

+A group of girls were standing about the neighboring seat, but he did

+not regard them. One of them observed him, and for her the thermometer

+suddenly went up ten degrees more.

+

+"Hurry girls, you must go," she said, softly and peremptorily, moving

+with them to the end of the car. "How I wish you didn't have to!" Then,

+as they reached the door, the flushed one squeezed their arms. "That

+was Mr. Fabian, girls!" she added.

+

+"Where? Where?" they ejaculated, looking wildly about.

+

+"Back there in the very next chair to mine. Oh, get off, dears."

+

+They regarded the rosy face.

+

+"Slyboots!" exclaimed Roxana.

+

+"Indeed, I knew nothing of it!" declared Violet.

+

+"Very well." Regina spoke in hasty exhortation. "The sun shines hard

+enough for you to make all the hay there is. I've a great mind to throw

+a pump after you!"

+

+The friends slipped off just in time, and Violet waved them a laughing

+adieu; then her face sobered while her eyes shone. She could not go

+back to her place at once. The combination was more than flesh and

+blood could endure nonchalantly: her work finished, she starting for

+the island earlier than she had hoped, with the joyful anticipation of

+surprising her aunt, and, instead of journeying alone, to find _the_

+man beside her.

+

+Violet was extremely indignant with herself for calling Edgar _the_

+man. Never one thing had he done to deserve it. There was no one

+on earth to whom in reality she was more indifferent. She allowed

+conductors, porter, passengers, and luggage to stumble by and over her

+in the narrow passage while she reflected upon the utter uncongeniality

+of herself and Edgar Fabian; the gulf fixed between their lots, their

+habits, their tastes. A man who was so artificial that he couldn't like

+Brewster's Island. How could any girl with genuine feeling do more than

+politely endure him!

+

+Violet finally, having been bumped and trodden on until she realized

+that she was being scowled at by all comers, stepped under the portière

+into the ladies' room and looked in the glass. The neatest and trimmest

+of visions regarded her.

+

+"I don't care a snap how I look, but I am dreadfully warm," she

+thought, and taking a powder-puff from her mesh bag, she raised her

+veil and cooled her crimson cheeks and dabbed her nose; then she pinned

+the veil back closely; and gave her bright eyes a challenging and

+warning gaze.

+

+"If you dare!" she murmured, then moved out into the aisle again and

+sought her place.

+

+Edgar had hung up his hat, his back was to the car, and his gloomy eyes

+gazed out of the window. Violet sank into her chair, turning its back

+to him. "There!" she thought sternly, "we can ride this way all day.

+There's not the slightest necessity for recognition."

+

+An hour passed and this seemed only too true. She took up the copy of

+"Life" which Roxana had left with her, and looked through it with more

+grim determination than is usually brought to bear upon that enlivening

+sheet.

+

+Everything continued to be quiet behind her. She wondered if Edgar had

+gone to sleep; but what was it to her what he was doing? She became

+conscious that there were more strokes on the illustrations than the

+artists had intended.

+

+"I must take off my veil!" she reflected.

+

+Of course, no girl can take off her veil and hat without making some

+stir. She hoped she should not attract her neighbor's attention by

+these movements. She didn't.

+

+At last all was comfortably arranged, and she picked up the periodical

+which had been Regina's offering and looked at her chatelaine watch,

+wondering how much time had been wasted already.

+

+She never before heard of a man who stayed in his seat on the train

+unless he was an invalid. One would think he would at least walk up

+and down once in a while. She turned her chair a little away from the

+window and toward the aisle. A fat man who was her vis-à-vis glanced

+at her, and finding the glance most satisfactory, looked again, long

+enough to make her aware of him. She swung slowly back toward the

+window, but not so far that she could not command movements in the

+aisle.

+

+Of course, Mr. Fabian was asleep. He had probably been turning night

+into day in the festivities which society events had recorded as

+preceding Mrs. Larrabee's departure for Europe.

+

+The thought was a tonic. She loved to realize how insignificant and

+selfish was the life this young man led; making him not worth a second

+thought to a womanly woman who scorned to associate with any man to

+whom she could not look up, and he hadn't shaved off that blond pointed

+mustache, either; how she despised mustaches.

+

+"Why--why, Miss Manning." The interested greeting broke forth directly

+above her, and she started and looked up straight into the scorned

+mustache. "How wonderful," said Edgar. "I was just wondering who liked

+the 'Century' better upside down than right-side up; then I noticed

+that whoever it was had pretty hair, so I looked again and saw it was

+you."

+

+"I"--stammered Violet, blushing violently and dropping the

+magazine,--"I think I was so sleepy I didn't know--I--where did you

+spring from?"

+

+"Just now from the smoking-room, but I'm here, right here in this chair

+next to you. Can you beat it? Are you for the island?"

+

+"Yes."

+

+"I, too. Great that we should meet. Let me turn your chair around. I

+was never so glad to see you."

+

+"Why? Were you bored?" Violet's tone and manner of courteous

+indifference were so excellent that they deceived the fat man, who

+regarded the _contretemps_ over the top of his paper and felt quite

+chivalrously impatient of the "fresh guy" who had interrupted the young

+traveller's meditations; and heartily commiserated the girl for the

+coincidence which had made her the prey of an acquaintance.

+

+"No, not more bored than usual," replied Edgar, having arranged the

+chairs at the best angle for sociability, "but if you talk to me I may

+forget how I want to smoke."

+

+Violet raised her eyebrows. "Oh, I'm to be useful and not ornamental,"

+she said with an icily sweet smile.

+

+"You can't help being ornamental," said Edgar, drumming nervously on

+the arm of his chair. "There, that's the last compliment I'm going

+to give you. I warn you. I'm a bear to-day. I'm sorry for you." The

+speaker was pale and Violet laid both pallor and nervousness to the

+door of the vivacious lady about to sail for foreign shores.

+

+"Yes," she replied, looking at him blandly. "I saw that your charming

+friend Mrs. Larrabee is leaving."

+

+Edgar looked around quickly. "Yes, she's leaving. I bade her good-bye

+last night."

+

+"Is that why you wish to smoke all the time?" asked Violet, with cooing

+gentleness.

+

+"All the time! Great Scott! I've had just one cigarette since I got up."

+

+"You said you had just come from the smoking-room."

+

+"Yes, but I hadn't been in. That's the trouble. I'm cutting it out."

+

+"Why? Have you made a virtuous vow?"

+

+"I'm afraid I'm in no mood for joking this morning." Edgar frowned and

+twisted his mustache.

+

+Violet spoke with laughing sweetness.

+

+"Nothing is more easy than to escape it," she said, and deftly turned

+her chair with its back to him.

+

+He seized it by the arm and twisted it around again.

+

+"No, you don't," he said. "Forgive me; you know the stereotyped advice

+to newly married couples about the two bears; 'bear and forbear,' don't

+you? Well, remember it, please."

+

+"I don't see the parallel," said Violet coolly; "and anyway, is the

+advice directed entirely at the woman?"

+

+"No, I'm bearing with you now for turning your back to me, you who are

+going to teach me to clog when we reach the island." He gave her the

+smile designed to melt the icy heart.

+

+"In consideration," returned Violet, "for a continuous ripple of song."

+

+Edgar suddenly looked important, and gazed out of the window. Then he

+turned back to the girl who was regarding him.

+

+"What do you think of my voice--honestly?" he asked.

+

+"I think it is one of the most beautiful I have ever heard," she

+answered promptly.

+

+He nodded slowly. "I fished to some purpose, didn't I," he said

+gravely. "Well, since you really think that, and I've always admired

+your sincerity, you may be interested to know that I have given up

+business in order to cultivate it."

+

+There being nobody present who was employed in Mr. Fabian's office, the

+dignity of this statement was not impaired by hilarity; and Violet,

+greatly impressed, clasped her hands.

+

+"Oh, I'm so glad," she said. "All your friends will be so glad."

+

+Had she known it, she might have added, "and all your business

+associates"; but neither word nor look minimized the enthusiasm of the

+moment.

+

+Enough of Violet's faith and admiration shone in her speaking eyes to

+fall like balm on Edgar's wounded soul. He began to heal under it;

+began to mount into his wonted atmosphere of assurance.

+

+"I've been studying ever since January with Mazzini. I've kept quiet

+about it because, after all,"--the speaker spread his hands in a modest

+gesture,--"he might be mistaken in his extremely enthusiastic estimate."

+

+"Oh, no, no!" said Violet earnestly. Edgar drank more healing from the

+fountain of her eyes. "What shall you do? Go into opera?"

+

+"I don't know yet," replied the aspirant, with the air of one who was

+holding Mr. Hammerstein in the hollow of his hand, uncertain whether

+to throw him over or to be gracious. "I'm very much alone in this," he

+added, meeting the girl's gaze with an air of confidence. "Of course

+my father and mother and sister are willing; in fact, they are pleased

+that I have undertaken this."

+

+"Think of giving up smoking!" exclaimed Violet. "What a sacrifice that

+means to a man! I should think your family would see by that how in

+earnest you are."

+

+"Yes, they believe I am in earnest; but when one in a family is keenly

+temperamental and the others are not, there are only certain planes on

+which they can meet, you understand?"

+

+"By all means!" Violet understood perfectly.

+

+"I have certain ideas that I never divulge to them. They would only

+laugh. What would it mean to them if I were to say that I had purple

+moods--and red moods--"

+

+"Probably nothing," returned Violet, quickly and with close attention.

+"Black and green and blue are the only common ones."

+

+Edgar looked at her suspiciously. Had the fountain of healing

+admiration vanished, and was she laughing at him? Not at all. She was

+regarding him with a respect and awe which he could not doubt.

+

+"Explain the others to me. Do you think you could?" she asked.

+

+"I'm afraid not," he answered gently, "but, well, for instance, while

+in the purple mood I could never learn to clog. Does that mean anything

+to you?"

+

+"Ah, yes," returned Violet fervently. "I see. You would be too intense."

+

+"Exactly. In the red, I might. It would depend on which way it took me."

+

+His listener nodded earnestly. "Yes, yes. A berserk rage is red. They

+always see red in books."

+

+"But so is a glowing sunset red," said Edgar. "The red of joy. I see

+you understand. Oh, what rest it is to have people understand!"

+

+Violet glowed. Some memory recurred to her. "Does Mr. Sidney know about

+this?" she asked.

+

+Edgar shrugged his shoulders. "He is at the island with my people. They

+may have told him."

+

+The girl's rosy lips set. "Now," she wondered, "would he chuckle over

+foolish sketches of conceited robins! At all events, he would very soon

+give it up."

+

+The two travellers had a wonderful day together, undaunted by heat and

+cinders.

+

+Edgar gave Violet as dainty a luncheon as circumstances permitted, and

+when they reached Portland too late for the last boat, he left her at

+her hotel with the promise to call for her in the morning.

+

+The boat they took next day was the same one which bore Miss Jane

+Foster to her summer home; so when, after the cooling ride down the

+bay, they arrived at Brewster's Island and saw Philip Sidney and Eliza

+Brewster waiting with Kathleen, Edgar pointed Eliza out to Violet with

+amusement.

+

+"I wonder how Sidney enjoys his shadow," he remarked, "I suppose she's

+trailing him all over the place."

+

+As Mrs. Wright had no expectation of her niece's early arrival, Eliza

+looked out with indifference from under her closely tied shade hat at

+the fair girl in neat tailor gown who stood by Edgar as the boat pulled

+in; and the exclamation of her companions was her first intimation that

+it was Violet Manning.

+

+Eliza stood quietly amid the greeting and laughing and explanations of

+the young people, and was introduced to Miss Manning; then she caught

+sight of Jane Foster, for whose eagerly expected face Phil had been

+gazing over the heads of everybody, notwithstanding that he had no idea

+what she looked like.

+

+"Better go home with the Fabians and come to us later," she suggested,

+speaking low to him.

+

+"Guess again, Eliza," he returned softly. Then he turned to Kathleen.

+"I'll not interrupt your first _tête-à-tête_ with your brother. I'll

+walk up the hill with Miss Manning and see Mrs. Wright's face when we

+appear."

+

+Kathleen nodded her agreement, and when they all reached the road, she

+opened her eyes at the manner in which her brother parted from Violet.

+Neither spoke. They clasped hands and exchanged a look, which was, to

+say the least, unusual.

+

+"You and Miss Manning seemed to be giving each other the grip," she

+laughed when the two began their ascent slowly. "Do you belong to the

+same secret society?"

+

+His reply was still more amazing. "We do," he answered impressively.

+"You guessed right the very first time. That girl has more sense in a

+minute than the general run have in years."

+

+"I always liked her," returned Kathleen, wondering.

+

+As for Philip, he carried Violet's suitcase and Miss Foster's bag and

+received the jubilant chatter of the young girl with appreciative

+assent, casting sheep's eyes all the way up the hill at the modest

+owner of the chicken-house, who little suspected that the big handsome

+young man who was carrying her bag cared more to get one monosyllable

+from her than for all the pleasant things this pretty girl might say to

+him.

+

+Mrs. Wright, busy taking Eliza's place in the preparations for the

+early dinner, was not watching for the arrival, and the first warning

+she had of Violet's presence was two vigorous arms being thrown around

+her neck.

+

+Her first impression was that Jane Foster had an attack of emotional

+insanity, but in a moment she was returning the embrace.

+

+"My little girl, what does this mean?" she cried joyously. "Not a

+flower in your room. Nothing ready."

+

+"Yes, dinner is. I can smell it. Oh, Aunt Amy, _you_ and vacation, and

+no city and no heat, and the divine island smell, and twenty-four hours

+in the day, and seven days in the week. Oh, it's too much happiness!"

+And Violet danced back into the living-room straight into the arms of

+Mr. Wright, who had just been washing his hands for dinner.

+

+"Right you are, Violet. No place like the island," he said heartily,

+while Eliza and Jane Foster regarded the newcomer with calm wonder. How

+could they know the glamour that was gilding all?

+

+Phil was so preoccupied, he scarcely noticed the girl's antics. His

+eyes were fixed with the most lover-like eagerness on Jane Foster's

+serious countenance.

+

+"Had you better ask her or I, Eliza?" he murmured, under cover of

+Violet's laughter.

+

+"You'd better not trust me," replied Eliza darkly, upon which Phil

+interrupted Miss Foster as she was starting for the stairs.

+

+"Might I speak to you one moment before you go up?" he asked.

+

+Her calm eyes turned to him. "You want board?" she asked.

+

+"No--not exactly. Would you mind coming outside a minute. I'd like to

+see you alone."

+

+Jane Foster looked into the brilliant face, wondering; then she

+followed him outside the door. Perhaps he wanted to buy the farmhouse.

+She had made some calculation before she reached the rustic bench; but

+his first words dashed her expectations.

+

+"Miss Foster, I'm an artist and like them all, at first, I haven't

+any money. I've been wondering if you'd let me camp down in your

+chicken-house and do some work. What rent would you want?"

+

+Jane Foster regarded him calmly. "'T ain't habitable," she said.

+

+"I'll make it so," he returned forcefully.

+

+"I can't imagine--" she began slowly.

+

+"You don't have to," he interrupted ardently. "Imagining is my

+business." He beamed upon her with a smile that warmed her through and

+through from the chill of the boat. "If you haven't any other use for

+it just now--"

+

+"Oh, 'tain't any use," she said slowly.

+

+"Then I may?" Phil embarrassed Miss Foster terribly by seizing her hand.

+

+Violet observed them from a window. "Is Mr. Sidney proposing to Miss

+Foster?" she laughed, turning to Eliza.

+

+"Yes, he is, exactly," returned the latter, hanging up her shade hat.

+

+"Well, I can't imagine anyone refusing him," said Violet.

+

+"I only hope she will," muttered Eliza; but the devout words were

+scarcely out of her lips when Phil came into the room like a cyclone

+and she was seized and swung up till her respectable head nearly grazed

+the ceiling.

+

+"It's mine," he cried. "Hurray!" and went out of the house again and

+across the field toward the boulder cottage.

+

+

+

+

+CHAPTER XXII

+

+THE NEW STUDIO

+

+

+In spite of the incense Edgar had been receiving, he was still a

+somewhat chastened being; and he had no disagreeable remarks to make

+about Phil when Mrs. Fabian wondered why he stayed so long at the

+Wright cottage. He objected to the fact somewhat on his own account.

+No doubt Violet was entertaining Philip. She had the artistic soul and

+Phil was horribly good-looking. It was a soothing thought that he was

+practically penniless and that he must soon return to his labors in New

+York.

+

+"How long are you expecting Phil to stay here?" he asked his mother

+after a glance or two across the empty field.

+

+"He says only a week," replied Mrs. Fabian, "but I hope to make it at

+least two. He's daft about the island."

+

+"But he couldn't work here," said Edgar with conviction. "You've no

+place for oil and turpentine and splotches generally."

+

+"That's what he says," sighed Mrs. Fabian. "I told him this morning

+we'd give up the summer-house to him."

+

+Edgar faced her. "Where do I come in?" he asked. "I expect the

+summer-house to save your lives from me. I don't believe we can have

+two artists in the family."

+

+Kathleen caught the last words as she came downstairs. "Don't worry,"

+she said lightly. "Phil will have none of us. He wants either a

+ten-acre lot or a stable."

+

+"Well, where is he?" asked Edgar, with some irritation. "I'm as hungry

+as a hunter."

+

+"And we have Aunt Mary's pretty things. Eliza gave them to mother."

+

+"You don't say so! Well, the Angel of Peace has moulted a feather on

+this island. There, I see Phil now, loping across the field. Do order

+dinner to be served, mother."

+

+The music-box was playing when the guest entered.

+

+"Oh, am I late?" he cried contritely, and took the stairs in three

+bounds.

+

+"How burned he is already!" laughed Mrs. Fabian. "You will be looking

+like that in a few days, Edgar."

+

+The latter was standing, high-chested and with repressed impatience, in

+an attitude his mother knew. He had not at all liked the radiance of

+Phil's countenance as the latter burst into the room.

+

+"This dinner is especially ordered for you, dear," said Mrs. Fabian

+soothingly, "from the clam soup to the strawberry shortcake."

+

+"When am I going to have any of it?" inquired Edgar. "Is it worth while

+to be formal here?"

+

+"Oh, he'll be down in one minute," said Kathleen; and indeed Philip

+soon appeared and they all seated themselves.

+

+"Last offence, really," said the guest gaily, "but one must be granted

+a little extra license when he's proposing."

+

+The waitress had placed the filled soup-plates before the family sat

+down; and Edgar promptly choked on his first mouthful. Violet had told

+him of meeting Phil in Gramercy Park. Where else and how often had the

+perfidious girl been with him?

+

+Kathleen swallowed her spoonful of soup, but it was not hot enough to

+account for the strange burning heat which suddenly travelled down her

+spine.

+

+Mrs. Fabian alone looked up. "Don't take our breath away like that,"

+she protested. "Who is the woman? Violet Manning or Eliza Brewster?"

+

+"I dreamed of her all last night," returned Phil, eating hungrily. "I

+knew she was coming, and I could hardly wait to learn my fate. Didn't

+you notice that I merely played with my breakfast this morning?"

+

+"You ate like a hunter. Didn't he, Kathleen?"

+

+Phil laughed and raised his happy eyes to his hostess.

+

+"Well, you'd save a whole lot of dinner this noon, only that she said

+'Yes.'"

+

+There was a miniature storm of hurt vanity in Edgar Fabian's breast.

+That was the way with these "lookers." Let them have scarce the price

+of a laundry bill, yet a girl couldn't resist them; and that gaze

+of almost awed admiration in Violet's eyes yesterday. It had meant

+nothing then but a tribute to genius. Phil should not have that look at

+his table daily! Edgar wouldn't stand it. He would match his singing

+against the other's painting, and time would show if Philip Sidney

+would have a walk-away. She couldn't be happy with a pauper like that,

+and she should be saved.

+

+As for Kathleen, she could not stop to criticize Philip's blunt

+announcement. Whether he were jesting or in earnest his sudden words

+had flashed an awful light upon her own sentiments.

+

+"There's no depth to it," she thought now in defence of her pain. "I

+know in time."

+

+"Tell us more this minute," said Mrs. Fabian, "and stop eating, you

+unromantic creature! I didn't even suspect that you knew Violet Manning

+well. You sly-boots. I'm offended with you."

+

+"The lovely Violet!" exclaimed Phil, "I left her having an attack of

+emotional insanity over there."

+

+He looked up and met a gaze from Edgar, suggestive of locking horns;

+and remembered Gramercy Park, and Violet's sudden dignity.

+

+"But not on my account," he went on easily. "My inamorata's name is

+Jane!" He cast his eyes adoringly ceilingward. "Dear little name!

+Quaint little name! Jane!"

+

+The relaxation that travelled throughout Kathleen's limbs was as

+painful and as exasperating as the burn had been. Her eyes were fixed

+on her soup-plate, and she smiled.

+

+Edgar's teeth shone with the utmost glee. Phil wasn't such a bad sort

+after all. He regarded him with interest, waiting for the sequel.

+

+"Philip Sidney, don't be idiotic," said Mrs. Fabian. "My soup is

+getting cold waiting for you to explain yourself."

+

+"Why, Jane Foster came this morning, mother," said Kathleen. "I'll help

+you out."

+

+"And I can really only stay with you a week, Aunt Isabel," added Phil.

+

+"She has taken you for a boarder? And all this fuss is about that?"

+asked Mrs. Fabian. "I should scarcely have thought you'd be so crazy to

+change my house for hers."

+

+"I know how Phil feels," said Edgar benevolently. "He wants to feel

+free to make smudges."

+

+"I do, Edgar, mind-reader that you are. Listen, then, all of you. I

+proposed to Jane that she let me use her chicken-house, and Jane,

+blessings on her, said the one little word to make me a happy man."

+

+Phil's radiant gaze was bent now upon Kathleen, who met it and nodded.

+"Just the thing!" she said, and her mother and brother started in on a

+Babel of tongues. Mrs. Fabian had forgotten the chicken-house. She had

+not been in that field for years; but Edgar approved, and altogether

+they joined in Phil's jubilation, and Mrs. Fabian related how she had

+prepared Pat to pack for just such an exigency.

+

+"The little house is awfully dilapidated," said Kathleen. "Its piazza

+has fallen off; and I'm sure it leaks. But perhaps you can make it fit

+to hold your paraphernalia."

+

+"Aunt Isabel, I want you and Kathleen to keep away until I'm in order,"

+said Phil impressively. "You'd try to discourage me and that would

+waste your time. Eliza is almost in tears, but I know what I want and

+what I can do."

+

+"A chicken-house!" exclaimed Mrs. Fabian, with second thoughts of

+disgust.

+

+"Yes, nobody can come near but Edgar; and if he does, he'll have to

+scrub."

+

+"Thank you very much," and the young man raised his eyebrows: "I have

+my own work to do, you may remember." Scrubbing chicken-houses he

+thought might even eclipse the memory of lighting the oil-stove.

+

+"Of course," returned Phil, all attention. "I'm extremely interested in

+this determination of yours. You certainly have the goods."

+

+"So they tell me," said Edgar, and twisted his mustache.

+

+"What are you going to do for furniture?" asked Mrs. Fabian. "You must

+at least have some chairs and a table."

+

+"And a lounge!" cried Phil,--"and an oil-stove." He laughed toward

+Edgar. "I'm going to live there, best of aunts, and maybe take my

+dinners with Jane, the star of my existence!"

+

+"Phil, you're crazy," said Mrs. Fabian, despairing. "You will continue

+to live here and work over there."

+

+He shook his head gaily. "Don't worry. Just watch; and if you have any

+attic treasures in the way of furniture, let me store them for you."

+

+When Mrs. Fabian really understood the enterprise Phil was embarking

+upon, she resigned herself, and finding an old suit of Mr. Fabian's

+which he had used for fishing, she bestowed it upon her guest.

+

+Then the work commenced. Eliza tried with a lofty sense of devotion

+to lend a hand and even besought the privilege; but she was repulsed.

+Philip induced Captain James to take an interest in his scheme and

+render him assistance at certain epochs in the reconstruction period,

+but the Captain and Jane Foster were the only persons privileged to

+come near the scene of operations; and Miss Foster's heart so far went

+out to her strong, determined young tenant that she began hunting in

+her own garret for things to help him along.

+

+With shovel and wheelbarrow, scrubbing-brushes, soapsuds,

+disinfectants, hammer and nails, Phil went to work.

+

+Eliza stood on her boundary-line, her hands on her hips, and watched,

+her long nose lifted, while loads of refuse and debris were patiently

+wheeled down to the edge of the bank and given over to the cleansing

+tide.

+

+Violet generously offered her window which gave upon the scene of

+operations, and the opera-glass with which she watched birds; but Eliza

+declined.

+

+"I won't spy on him," she said, adding vindictively, "but I'll

+look--the obstinate boy!"

+

+The first time Kathleen called, Violet took her up to her room and they

+sat in the open window.

+

+"The opera-glass is scarcely any use," she explained, "for he hasn't

+washed the windows yet and you can't see in at all."

+

+Kathleen laughed, but shrank back. "I don't want him to think we're

+watching," she replied.

+

+"Oh, he knows we all are; but even after he has gone at night, we don't

+dare to go and look in. We can't pass that rock there--not even Eliza."

+

+A charming tenor voice suddenly sounded on the air, singing an aria

+from "La Bohème." The girls looked and saw Edgar advancing toward the

+chicken-house, peering in curiously.

+

+Suddenly, Phil, attired in a sweater and Mr. Fabian's trousers which

+scarcely reached his ankles, dashed out at the caller and pressed a

+scrubbing-brush on his acceptance. Edgar suddenly stopped his lay and

+ran, laughing, toward Mrs. Wright's, where he found the girls and took

+them out on the water.

+

+"I should think you'd want to help him," said Kathleen wistfully.

+

+"I do," replied Edgar, "but I restrain myself. Phil doesn't want me,

+really," he added; and he was certainly right. Phil had no time to

+stumble over Marcellines.

+

+A week passed. Jane Foster had been smiling and important for the last

+few days, but not for kingdoms would Eliza have questioned her. She

+had acquired an air of calm indifference, which belied the burning

+curiosity within. When Phil stopped in passing to speak with her, she

+talked of the weather. Mrs. Wright, on the contrary, expressed her

+eagerness to see what was going on so near and yet so far from them.

+

+"Pluto gets ahead of us," she said, "and you've trained him so well he

+never tells anything."

+

+Edgar happened to be present and he shrugged his shoulders. "Better

+hurry up, Phil," he remarked, "and have your opening before interest

+wanes. You'll have an anti-climax the first thing you know."

+

+Mrs. Wright turned the gentle radiance of her eyes on the speaker.

+

+"We heard you last night, singing as you went home, Mr. Fabian," she

+said: "that lovely voice floating across the field will make us famous.

+People will hear it and wonder about the source, and begin to talk of

+the angel of Brewster's Island."

+

+"Wonderfully level-headed people, those Wrights," soliloquized Edgar,

+as he sauntered home. "A distinct acquisition to the island." Some

+thought occurred to him. "I wish father could have heard that," he

+mused.

+

+Phil lingered behind him. He had changed into his own clothes

+remarkably early this afternoon. There was an hour yet before

+supper-time.

+

+"Where are the rest of your family this afternoon?" he asked.

+

+"Violet went with Kathleen into the woods to get some specimens she

+wants for her microscope," replied Mrs. Wright.

+

+"Where's Eliza?" Phil smiled as he asked it, and his companion smiled

+in answer.

+

+"In her room, I think."

+

+Phil raised his eyebrows interrogatively.

+

+"Yes, I think so, a little," she replied softly, nodding. "You see Jane

+has been there every day."

+

+"But that's all the rent I pay," protested Phil, all very quietly, for

+though they were standing outdoors, the windows were open.

+

+"Yes, but--it's a good deal for flesh and blood to bear," said Mrs.

+Wright with a twinkling glance. "The green-eyed monster ramps at the

+best of us, you know."

+

+"I wonder if I could see Eliza," said Phil in his natural voice.

+

+"Yes, I think she's in her room," returned Mrs. Wright. "I'll go and

+see."

+

+She disappeared, and Phil's eyes roved to the boulder cottage and fixed

+there. A smile touched the corners of his lips. He had not meant to

+carry prohibition too far with Eliza. It was genuine desire to save

+her trouble as well as the wish to surprise her after her vehement

+opposition to his scheme, which had made him warn her away. Now he was

+eager to make it right with her.

+

+"I remember now," said Mrs. Wright, returning; "Eliza went down the

+hill this afternoon. I don't know just when she'll come back; but won't

+you sit down and wait for her?"

+

+"Thank you, I don't believe I will. I'll come back later. I've been a

+runaway guest all this week," and with a smile of farewell, an eager

+look grew in Phil's eyes as he started to run across the field toward

+home.

+

+In all his arrangements, each time he had gained an effect he had

+thought of Kathleen's amusement and appreciation.

+

+As soon as he found that Eliza was out of the question, his eagerness

+burst forth to get the girls' point of view. He met Violet Manning

+returning from the woods escorted by Edgar.

+

+"I open the studio to-morrow," he cried gaily. "Will you come to my tea

+at three-thirty?"

+

+"Will we!" exclaimed Violet. "We couldn't have lasted much longer! I'm

+glad you let us see it 'before' so we can fully appreciate it 'after.'"

+

+Violet was looking pretty and very happy. Phil considered for one

+moment whether he should ask her to pour. Even yet he felt that

+Kathleen lived in a remote rarefied air of elegance. Would one dare ask

+her to dispense tea in a chicken-house? But he wisely kept silence.

+Aunt Isabel might yet enter into what she continued to term his

+foolishness.

+

+With a wave of his hand, he fled on his way, and found Kathleen,

+flushed from her walk, carrying mosses to the table in the wind-break.

+

+"I've finished," he cried, vaulting over the railing and appearing

+beside her. "Want to see it?"

+

+She looked up into his expectant eyes.

+

+"Are we invited?" she returned.

+

+"To-morrow, everybody is; but I thought I'd like you to see it right

+now--if you aren't too tired."

+

+"A private view!" she exclaimed. "Who was ever too tired for that? But

+I'm of the earth so earthy, I shall have to go in and wash my hands."

+

+"No, no, don't," replied Phil softly. "You'd meet Aunt Isabel, and

+this is to be clandestine. Wipe your hands on this,"--he pulled his

+handkerchief out of his pocket,--"and come."

+

+Kathleen laughed and brushing her fingers free of traces of the

+treasured moss, she wiped them and they started across the field.

+

+"Here's hoping Violet and Edgar don't see us," said Phil, and took the

+path he had trodden so often straight to the hen-house, and which did

+not pass very near the Wrights.

+

+As they approached, Kathleen looked curiously at the little cottage

+with its sloping red roof, nestling close to the ground on the breast

+of the hill and sheltered by the tall Balm-of-Gilead trees. Their

+rustling leaves held always a murmur as of rain and to-day fleecy white

+clouds piled against the blue sky behind the cottage.

+

+As they drew near, Kathleen stopped and clasped her hands, and laughter

+bubbled from her lips.

+

+"That's clever!" she exclaimed heartily, and Phil's eyes danced as she

+met them.

+

+A swinging sign had been hung above the low door. Upon it strutted a

+splendid cock and above his proudly lifted comb appeared the legend:--

+

+      VILLA CHANTECLER.

+

+Phil threw open the low door with a sweeping bow; and Kathleen paused

+on the threshold with a low cry of surprise; then stepped into the

+cool, dusky interior.

+

+She found herself in a low-ceiled room with small-paned windows set

+high. A golden radiance streamed through, falling on the soft tone of

+floor and walls.

+

+On a table draped with dull green a tall candlestick and ivory-tinted

+plate reflected gleams of light.

+

+Kathleen sank on the cushions of a long, low divan.

+

+"You can paint Rembrandt portraits in here!" she said. "Don't explain

+how you've done it. I don't want to know. It is the most restful,

+delightful studio I've ever seen--and smelling of ambergris?"

+

+"No, only of bay leaves."

+

+Phil waited and let her look at the hangings, the cushioned chairs, and

+spindle legs of the quaint table.

+

+"You like it," he said after a pause of deep satisfaction.

+

+She looked up at him. "I am making genuflexions to you in my mind."

+

+He laughed. "But the best is yet to come. Sit where you are."

+

+He moved to the back of the room and opened a door toward the ocean.

+It was as if a brilliant panel had suddenly been set in the dark wall.

+

+Kathleen sprang to her feet.

+

+"Like enamel!" she said softly, and approached the opening.

+

+It led upon a terrace with a white railing. Tall white pillars at

+either end were crowned with dark-green bay.

+

+"Is it a stage-setting," she said, "or is it practicable?"

+

+"Come out and see."

+

+Together they moved outside and the wind came up out of the sea across

+the sleeping field and swept their faces and set the young leaves of

+the orchard to whispering with sweet fresh lips to their gnarled stems.

+

+Kathleen looked up at her companion, smiled and shook her head.

+

+"You have added poetry to our island," she said. "I didn't think any

+one could do that."

+

+Phil met her gaze.

+

+"And you," he said, "have put the finishing touch to my satisfaction."

+

+

+

+

+CHAPTER XXIII

+

+PHILIP'S LETTER

+

+

+DEAREST MOTHER:--You remember I told you I had found a pig's ear and

+was going to make a silk purse out of it despite the scepticism of the

+neighborhood. Behold the purse! I call it the Villa Chantecler. It has

+taken me the whole week, but the result--well, Kathleen says I have

+added poetry to the island, and I suspect she is authority on poetry,

+although that too is hidden in one of the locked rooms I've told you

+about. She gives just enough of herself to each person to fit every

+occasion; but the way she took the first view of the Villa yesterday

+was like everything else she does; perfection. I didn't know I was

+going to write that. I didn't know I thought it. That's the beauty of

+having some one to whom you can think aloud. You find out what you do

+think; but she and I touch only on the high places and when we leave

+the island we shall fly apart for the whole winter again; with pleasant

+memories, however. She has a positive talent for letting people alone.

+I love such people!

+

+Now, to tell you how I did my little trick. I could never have done

+it but for New England tenacity and thrift. They never throw anything

+away in this part of the world; and even importations like Aunt Isabel

+collect some lumber-room outcasts rather than injure the scenery by

+throwing them over the bank.

+

+Jane Foster, adorable landlady and Lady Bountiful that she is, turned

+me loose in her attic, and told me to help myself. So, first of all,

+I made the hen-house shine with cleanliness. Then Cap'n James helped

+me drag up its dejected piazza which had capsized in the neighboring

+field. We nailed it to the house and painted it white.

+

+Aunt Isabel had discarded a Crex rug, which I took for my studio, also

+a three-legged divan and chairs whose cane seats had surrendered. These

+I mended and cushioned. In Miss Foster's attic, I found what I should

+think were all the potato sacks that had ever been used in the Foster

+family. These made my hangings and cushions, although the poverty they

+implied nearly reduced Jane to tears. She implored me to use turkey red

+and found enough in the attic to begin on. The stuff smelled so new,

+I'm nearly certain the dear woman bought it and placed it there.

+

+I found an old spinet under the eaves. Its voice had long departed;

+but its charming legs and framework were intact. I placed some boards

+across that and used my green bathrobe for a cover. I took a straight

+length of pipe, fixed it into a wooden stand, topped it with a spool,

+bronzed the whole thing, and behold, a stunning candlestick in which

+stands a tall wax candle.

+

+Among the refuse I had carried out of the place, I had found charming

+old plates, heavy as lead, crackled with age, and cream and gray in

+color. These I disposed variously, and I am perfectly sure Cap'n James

+and Jane Foster have laid their heads together in order to condole

+over the fact that so pleasant a young man should have so gloomy and

+unpicturesque a taste when he expects to get his living by that same

+lame faculty. In fact, Cap'n James unburdened his mind one day. He

+said:--

+

+"Ain't you goin' to have anything cheerful 'round here? It looks to me

+more fit for hens than it does for folks right now."

+

+Under the house I found lengths of drain-pipe. These I used on my

+terrace at the back of the Villa, overlooking the sea. When I had

+placed these pillars at each end of the railing and crowned them with

+the polished bay that grows luxuriantly here, I had a quite Italian

+effect, I assure you.

+

+Jane looks at me with pitiful eyes, and yesterday came down to the

+Villa with a framed chromo from her parlor wall.

+

+"I just as lieves you'd use it as not," she said, "and anyway you might

+put it up till the folks have seen the place. Your own paintin's can go

+up later." I almost kissed her, she pitied me so, and I could see that

+she agreed with Cap'n James, who said the place gave him the "Injun

+blues."

+

+There is a rough stairway that leads to the half-floored room above.

+I took a drain-pipe to make a newel post for that. It is surmounted

+with a bronze Mercury on a pedestal. The pedestal is a small, rusty tin

+wash-basin that I found under the house. I covered it with varnish and

+rolled it in sand, inverted it, and behold! I also gave an appearance

+of advanced age to the Mercury; so the general appearance is as of a

+treasure from Pompeii.

+

+If only you and father could see and feel the beauty and the heavenly

+quiet of the place. I have a kitchen, too. The door was a wreck, and I

+tacked upon it a dark ornate window shade which tones in with all the

+rest.

+

+Sometimes I feel as if I were only living to see you again. I know it's

+what I'm working for anyway; and I well know that you are working for

+me every day of your dear life.

+

+I love you.

+

+      PHIL.

+

+

+

+

+CHAPTER XXIV

+

+PHILIP ENTERTAINS

+

+

+Philip still had Eliza on his mind, so when Kathleen had left him,

+he went back to the farmhouse and had the good fortune to meet Eliza

+returning home.

+

+"I'm looking for you!" he called cheerfully.

+

+She regarded him unsmiling. "Well," she remarked carelessly, "you look

+like a gentleman of leisure."

+

+"Just what I am. You guessed right. My Villa is finished and I've been

+waiting for you because I'm going to let everybody in to-morrow and I

+wanted you to see it with me alone."

+

+"My opinion ain't worth anything," said Eliza; "besides, it's pretty

+near time to get supper. Miss Foster went up to Portland to-day."

+

+"I know she did. That's why I'm in a hurry to take you into the studio

+before the boat arrives. You know how discouraging you were, Eliza, and

+I wanted to surprise you. I'd have liked to surprise everybody, but,

+of course, I hadn't the nerve to keep Miss Foster out. The rent I pay

+didn't warrant it." The speaker twinkled down into Eliza's unresponsive

+eyes. "I'm going to give a tea to-morrow and I want to talk it over

+with you."

+

+They had strolled near to the rustic bench where Mrs. Wright was still

+sitting with her work.

+

+"Eliza is going with me to have a private view of the Villa," said

+Phil. "Your turn to-morrow. I'm going to give a tea. Will you come?"

+

+"Most assuredly," answered Mrs. Wright. "As soon as you cleaned those

+windows, my curiosity began to effervesce."

+

+"I can't go now," said Eliza. "I've waited this long, I guess I can

+wait till to-morrow. I've got to get supper."

+

+Philip threw an arm around her and drew her forward.

+

+"Boarders have come, Mr. Philip," she exclaimed. "They'll see you."

+

+"I hope they will," he responded firmly. "If they don't know I love

+you, it's the best way to tell them."

+

+Eliza walked along stiffly, perforce, toward the forbidden ground.

+

+"Yes, I thought I'd make a grand splurge to-morrow, and give a tea," he

+continued. "I want you to preside."

+

+"Do what?"

+

+"Pour. I want you to pour for me."

+

+"H'm. Ridiculous! Let one of the girls do it."

+

+"Well, just as you say. Now, then," they were drawing near the little

+house, "prepare! Be a good sport now, and own yourself wrong if you

+think you are. See my shingle?"

+

+Eliza's eyes followed his gesture and caught sight of the crowing cock.

+

+"H'm," she said; then they went inside.

+

+Eliza looked about in silence for a minute.

+

+"It's clean," she said at last; and Phil knew she was moved to catch at

+a word of praise as one says of a neighbor's plain and uninteresting

+baby, "How healthy he looks!"

+

+He began explaining his devices to Eliza and her heart was touched by

+his joy in all this cheap gloom.

+

+By the time he opened the back door, she was ready to weep over him;

+and she said:--

+

+"That's a real sightly piazza."

+

+Then they moved into the little kitchen.

+

+"I've been waiting for you to tell me what to do here," said the

+artist, and Eliza rose to the bait and began pulling things about and

+showing him where shelves must be placed.

+

+"How are you goin' to give a tea," she asked, "with one broken mug?"

+

+"Borrow cups and saucers from Aunt Isabel. That's easy; but," he

+looked down at Eliza, whose face had regained its usual alertness,

+"it occurred to me that perhaps I have some of my own--those that you

+packed for me and that ran away to the island."

+

+"Mr. Philip, I'm a fool to forget those!" responded the other, after

+gazing at him in silence. "You shall have every one of 'em. They're all

+mixed in with the Foster things. I'll pick 'em out; and we'll lend you

+all you need beside."

+

+"Would it interfere with supper proceedings if we were to do it right

+now?"

+

+"Law! it ain't time to get supper yet," responded Eliza, so promptly

+that, as they hurried out of the door, Phil stooped to break a long

+blade of grass to bite.

+

+A vigorous search was at once instituted for the china, and Phil and

+Eliza carried it down to the studio; and as they went, Mr. Wright came

+up from the water and joined his wife.

+

+"We're to be let in to-morrow," she said. "He has finished."

+

+"Well, it's been a job," remarked Mr. Wright, who had occasionally sat

+on a log and watched Phil at his roof-mending or some other strenuous

+part of the work.

+

+"Yes, he ought to succeed," said Mrs. Wright. "He hasn't a lazy bone in

+his body."

+

+"There aren't many of us that have at his age," remarked Mr. Wright.

+"Are there, Pluto?"

+

+The cat had run to meet him like a dog. For him the scent of Mr.

+Wright's fishing trousers was as the perfume of Araby; and he followed

+him to the room in the shed where his friend changed them for

+habiliments more generally agreeable.

+

+At last Phil returned to the boulder cottage where he found Mrs. Fabian

+and Kathleen in the wind-break. The latter was working at the table,

+sorting the moss specimens for her slides.

+

+She looked up at him now with a new realization of his powers.

+

+"Well, you said this morning to-day would finish the work," said Mrs.

+Fabian, closing her novel on her finger for a mark. "Are you through?"

+

+"As nearly as I ever shall be," he replied, throwing himself into a

+chair near Kathleen's table and regarding her deft fingers at their

+work.

+

+"Well, I'm glad," said Mrs. Fabian, "for we've seen nothing of you. I

+like the way you visit us."

+

+He looked at her quickly to see if there were feeling behind the

+accusation.

+

+"Now, you'll have to stay on a week when you are not so preoccupied."

+

+"Not if he doesn't wish to, mother," said Kathleen, going on with her

+work. Her cheeks were still flushed from the warm tramp to the woods;

+the red glints in her hair shone lustrous.

+

+"It does look like making use of you, doesn't it?" he said impetuously.

+"But you're so good to me, both of you. To-morrow you'll forgive me,

+Aunt Isabel, when you see I have a place to work and trouble no one. I

+do hope it won't rain."

+

+"Oh, no," said Kathleen, handling a tiny bit of moss. "The moon holds

+the weather."

+

+Mrs. Fabian laughed. "Kathleen, the astronomer," she said.

+

+The girl nodded. "It may not be a scientific way to put it, but I've

+always noticed it here. It will be full to-morrow night. The weather

+won't change till the moon does."

+

+"Delightfully consoling," said Phil, continuing to watch her averted

+face. It seemed to him this was the first time since Christmas

+night that his mind had been sufficiently at leisure from itself to

+concentrate upon her. He suddenly remembered that she used to like

+cigarettes. He had not yet seen her use one. Perhaps she was aiding

+Edgar in the stern limit which he was imposing upon himself.

+

+"I wonder," he said, "if either of you would pour for me at my grand

+tea to-morrow."

+

+Kathleen did not look up, but her cheeks grew warmer while she

+manipulated the moss.

+

+"Oh, a tea in the chicken-house," laughed Mrs. Fabian.

+

+The light jeering tone struck Kathleen as coming at a particularly

+unfortunate moment.

+

+"I will. Be glad to," she said heartily.

+

+"Whom are you going to invite? The fish?" laughed Mrs. Fabian.

+

+Phil's naïveté was dashed by her tone. Kathleen felt it.

+

+"Mother's jealous, Phil," she said, "because she has seen so little of

+you all the week. She is at fever heat of curiosity as to what you have

+been doing; and as for tea! Mother's an inebriate. She won't leave any

+for the fish. You'll see."

+

+Phil looked at the speaker gratefully, and leaned toward her a little.

+"I have the right barrel at last," he said. "The one that ran away to

+the island. Do you remember?"

+

+His eyes were so very speaking that Kathleen dropped hers to the moss.

+She nodded and smiled.

+

+"It knew where it ought to go, didn't it?" she returned.

+

+Mrs. Fabian's countenance had sobered. She knew the descendant of the

+Van Ruyslers so well that she understood that she had offended.

+

+"Can't one make a bit of fun once in a while?" she asked in injured

+tones of Kathleen when next they were alone.

+

+"Yes, once in a while," answered the girl, and kissed her.

+

+"It'll be something funny for you to look back upon when you come out,

+Kathleen, that your first function after graduating took place in a

+chicken-house."

+

+"I hope I shall not be homesick for it," thought the girl; but she only

+smiled.

+

+"Kathleen is certainly touchy about Phil," mused Mrs. Fabian. "She

+glared up at me just the way she did last fall when I wanted to get

+Aunt Mary's silver. She is the queerest girl!"

+

+The moon or something else did hold the weather and the artist could

+have had no better day on which to give his proof that where there's a

+will there's a way.

+

+The company swarmed through the little house, laughing, admiring,

+questioning. At last they stood on the terrace.

+

+"My dear boy!" exclaimed Mrs. Wright. "You could have no better view if

+you were a millionaire!"

+

+"The only thing lacking," cried Violet, "is a white peacock. Where is

+the white peacock?"

+

+"How about it, Edgar?" asked Phil. "Couldn't you stand out there for

+the lady?"

+

+"The nightingale could never deceive us," said Mrs. Wright, bending her

+universally loving gaze on Edgar, whose chin was held rather higher

+than usual.

+

+"That's so," cried Phil. "Sing us something, Edgar, right here and now."

+

+"Certainly," responded the gifted one, regarding his host as he

+launched easily into song:--

+

+      "'I'm looking for a lobster and I think you'll do.'"

+

+Mrs. Fabian did not join in the laugh. She had moved inside, and her

+lorgnette was fixed on a closed door.

+

+"I must see in there, Phil," she said.

+

+"Of course, you must, Mrs. Bluebeard," he replied. "You may all go in

+this once, but it's the last time ever, I warn you, for that is my

+kitchen."

+

+They swarmed through to the little room, where Edgar perceived with

+a groan an oil-stove burning cosily in the midst of canvas, paints,

+easel, et cetera.

+

+"_I'll_ never go in again, I promise you," he declared.

+

+At the host's invitation, the company arranged themselves on

+the rejuvenated chairs and couch, and Kathleen made tea at the

+spindle-legged table.

+

+Mrs. Fabian's lorgnette was bent upon the newel post.

+

+"However did you make him stand up, dear?" she asked, regarding the

+Mercury which had winged his way from her garret. "We haven't been

+upstairs yet, remember."

+

+"And you won't go till you're tired of life," returned the host.

+"It abounds in trapdoors and, aside from my affection for you, the

+furniture down here couldn't stand being fallen on."

+

+Being turned ceilingward, Mrs. Fabian's lorgnette discovered that

+branches of bay had been woven through the rafters in some places. She

+shrugged her shoulders.

+

+"You'll get rained on in this dilapidated old place," she said. "A few

+bay leaves can't deceive me."

+

+"Madam! Are you aware that you are talking about the Villa Chantecler?

+That roof is as tight as a drum."

+

+Mrs. Fabian stirred the lemon in her substantially thick cup; and

+looked admiringly at the energetic host.

+

+"I only hope, Phil," she sighed, "that you aren't too practical to

+succeed in your profession. So few artists would know how to mend a

+roof or even remember the necessity for it. I hope it isn't a bad sign."

+

+Edgar, sitting with Violet on the railing, drinking tea, heard his

+mother's comment.

+

+"A good deal in that, I think," he remarked softly. "I've never seen

+any of Phil's things except that rough black-and-white stuff he has in

+there. He never seemed to me to have a particle of temperament."

+

+Violet was inclined to agree. She had seen nothing amusing in Philip's

+chaff about the peacock. She thought it quite as silly as were the

+other comments on the robin.

+

+"I wish you would sing something," she said. "Do, and surprise them."

+

+"I can't. I haven't even a banjo."

+

+"I've noticed you have everything over at the house: banjo, guitar,

+mandolin, everything. You must leave one of them over here. Music would

+sound perfectly charming in this place."

+

+"_Any_ music?" asked Edgar, smiling.

+

+She returned his look from the tops of her eyes. "Bold fisherman," she

+replied.

+

+Her companion scanned the horizon: "The moon is going to be great

+to-night. It looks as if it would rise clear out of the water. Want to

+go for a sail?"

+

+"I don't believe I can," replied Violet. "I have an engagement."

+

+"An engagement!" returned Edgar, sceptically. "Are you going to read

+aloud to your aunt?"

+

+Violet smiled at him provokingly. "You're not the only man on this

+island," she remarked.

+

+A quick flush mounted to Edgar's forehead.

+

+"Phil?" he asked quickly.

+

+She nodded, mutely, and took the last swallow of her tea.

+

+Her companion looked as if he might be in the throes of the red mood.

+

+"That's beastly," he said, dismayed to think that in all Phil's

+preoccupation he had had sufficient forethought to secure Violet for

+this perfect evening. "Since when?" he demanded fiercely.

+

+"Since yesterday," she returned demurely, apparently unconscious that

+the arrangement caused annoyance.

+

+"Very well, then, we'll take the yacht," he said, "and let the crowd

+go. Phil can help me sail her. I was intending to take the motor-boat

+and you alone."

+

+"I don't know whether Mr. Sidney would care to," she returned coolly,

+"but it's very kind of you."

+

+Edgar regarded her, baffled. "What--what had you planned to do?"

+he asked. He knew the question was inexcusable and braced himself

+for a snub; but the sweet Violet, exultant at his open disturbance,

+administered none.

+

+"Nothing special," she replied. "Mr. Sidney is invited to dine with us,

+in celebration of the completion of the improvements he has been making

+on the estate. That's all."

+

+"Oh, absurd!" declared Edgar. "As if you couldn't dine any foggy night.

+Well, you don't need to stay after dinner. He isn't your guest."

+

+Violet regarded him with an ironical smile.

+

+"I've been taught manners," she said. "Beside, perhaps I want to stay.

+Didn't that occur to you?"

+

+Edgar scowled and looked off on the ocean and back again. "I don't want

+to take the whole family out in order to get you," he said, fuming.

+

+"I wouldn't," she answered, laughing. "It isn't worth the trouble."

+

+Her companion clenched his even teeth. He didn't want to risk Philip's

+meandering about the island alone with Violet on such an evening

+as this was going to be. He would be sure to talk of his work and

+his hopes, and her confoundedly soulful eyes would look back at him

+comprehendingly, and a precedent would be established and--

+

+"You see, Mr. Sidney expects to take all his dinners with us after he

+begins working here," went on Violet sweetly. "It will be so convenient

+just to run across."

+

+Edgar gave her a furious glance, but the simplicity of her regard was

+complete.

+

+Mrs. Wright came to the open door. "We're going now, Violet," she said.

+"Will you come? Our host positively refuses to allow us to help him

+put things away, and he will follow a little later. I've been hoping,"

+turning to Edgar, "that you might be moved to sing as you sat out here."

+

+The young man had sprung to his feet and was trying to banish evidences

+of the red mood from his brow.

+

+"I wanted to take Violet out on the water to-night," he said. "It seems

+there's an obstacle."

+

+"Yes, a large one," returned Mrs. Wright pleasantly. "Lots of evenings

+coming, but I don't know about letting my little girl go on the water

+at night."

+

+"I guarantee her safety. I've come here ever since I was a baby, Mrs.

+Wright, and I'm an amphibious animal; but if Sidney should ever suggest

+it, remember he's a landlubber. Half the time they don't know enough to

+be afraid."

+

+"Very true," returned Mrs. Wright, with her natural graceful sweetness

+of manner, which at least succeeded in making Edgar feel rude. "Come,

+dear," turning to Violet, "I'd like to have you come with me."

+

+So the girl rose and yielded her cup to Edgar, who took it with

+dignity. He, the ex-cavalier of Mrs. Larrabee, not to be able to mould

+circumstances among these poor and provincial people!

+

+He took leave of Philip, and tendered his congratulations with an air

+fitted to grace marble halls. "I believe," he added, "you don't dine at

+home to-night."

+

+"No," replied Phil, "Miss Foster is very kindly entertaining her

+tenant."

+

+Edgar pricked up his ears; and instantly ran after Violet. "Phil says

+Jane Foster invited him," he said vehemently. "I shall call for you by

+eight o'clock. I'll take the best care of her, Mrs. Wright. I assure

+you I will, and bring her in early."

+

+He was off before he could be gainsaid, and Mrs. Wright noticed that

+Violet's expression was such as might be worn by a well-grown kitten

+who had been hilariously entertained in a game with a mouse which was

+as yet unfinished and highly promising.

+

+The events of the week had thrown light on the happiness Violet evinced

+the day of her arrival under Edgar Fabian's escort. Mrs. Wright's

+tenderness for her orphan niece was alertly watchful. She put an arm

+around her now and drew her away from the house, and they walked slowly

+across the grass.

+

+"It really is perfectly safe to go on the water with Edgar," said the

+girl, half laughing.

+

+"For me, it might be," returned Mrs. Wright quietly.

+

+Violet blushed deeply, and dreaded what might be coming.

+

+"The Fabians are nice people," went on her aunt, "very rich people and

+able to give you pleasures, and I like you to be friendly with them;

+but I'm a little afraid of this situation."

+

+"You needn't be," burst forth the girl impulsively. "Edgar doesn't

+really care much about me."

+

+"That's the trouble," said Mrs. Wright quietly.

+

+The reply was so unexpected that Violet felt a sharp twinge of

+mortification and a spontaneous desire to show her aunt that she was

+wrong. There were lots of small proofs that she might give her--

+

+"No," she returned, suddenly serious. "He cares very much for me in

+a certain way: my understanding of his gift--and his hopes--and his

+career. His family mean to be kind, but they're so unsympathetic.

+They're not temperamental like him and--"

+

+Violet paused because Aunt Amy was smiling. It was unkind to smile at

+such a time. Very well! Her lips should be sealed from this time on.

+She would never again speak to her about Edgar!

+

+"He is very attractive even with all his conceit," said Mrs. Wright,

+who was quite conscious that the girl's slender body had suddenly

+a resentful rigidity. "A beautiful tenor voice and conceit seem to

+be inseparable in this mundane sphere; and if my little girl has

+understood and responded to his outpourings about himself she is

+charming to him." Mrs. Wright paused and then went on: "Look around,

+Violet, and realize that you are the only girl here to whom he can show

+attention. Did he show you any in New York? Did he go out of his way

+for you? You fell right into his reach on the train and he took the

+gifts the gods provided; and they were very sweet gifts."

+

+The speaker squeezed her unresponsive listener, whose heart was beating

+hotly. "As a rule men are marauders," she went on. "As a rule, women

+are single-hearted, faithful. There are exceptions. I want to give you

+one piece of advice and I can't put it too strongly. Take it in and

+act upon it, and it may save you a world of hurt vanity, and possibly

+a broken heart. No matter how a man behaves toward you,--no matter how

+he looks, or what he does,--or what he says,--don't believe or even

+imagine that he loves you until he tells you he does, in so many words."

+

+There were tears in the baby-bachelor's blue eyes. Among the stormy

+emotions that filled her was the horrible suspicion that, instead of

+being a foreordained victor, the kitten might possibly in the end be

+the mouse's victim.

+

+"Now, Mr. Sidney," went on Mrs. Wright's calm voice, "is a man who I

+believe has hold of life by the right end."

+

+"He is always making fun of Edgar," burst forth Violet, her breath

+coming fast. "You heard what he said about the peacock."

+

+At this, Mrs. Wright fell a peg lower in her niece's estimation, for

+she laughed.

+

+"I knew what he meant," she answered, "but I couldn't let the lovely

+singer's feelings be hurt."

+

+"Knew what he meant!" exclaimed Violet, indignantly, and suddenly

+breaking away from her aunt's embrace, she ran toward the house and

+disappeared.

+

+Mrs. Wright followed the fleeing form with her eyes, and nodded gently.

+

+"I thought so. Only just in time," she said to herself. The seed was

+dropped, and even though the ground did have to be harrowed to get the

+necessary depth, it was better so.

+

+The evening was as beautiful as Edgar Fabian had foreseen. One of the

+many charms of Brewster's Island was the habit the wind had of lulling

+at sunset, often making the evening air milder than that of day.

+

+To-night the sun had sunk in a clear sky behind the White Mountains.

+All the family at the Wright cottage had come out after supper to see

+the Presidential Range, ninety miles away, silhouetted black against

+the golden glory.

+

+"One can breathe here," thought Philip. "One can breathe here." He

+wondered if Kathleen were watching the sunset.

+

+"Oh, but turn around," cried Violet suddenly. "This is a three-ringed

+circus. One should live on a pivot here on a clear night."

+

+Phil turned obediently, and saw the waters dashing against a huge disk

+of pale gold.

+

+Kathleen, lying in her hammock, arm folded beneath her head, was also

+watching the moon.

+

+Edgar sat near her on the steps, smoking his third cigarette that day.

+It was his rigid allowance. He saw dimly the figures come out from the

+Wright cottage and his first impulse was to stroll across and join

+them; but pride forbade. Supposing he were to get there just in time to

+see Violet walk off with Philip.

+

+"What a perfect evening!" said Kathleen lazily. "Go in and get the

+guitar, Edgar, and sing me something."

+

+Sing something! Edgar's teeth clenched at the thought.

+

+"I've practised such a lot to-day, I'm no good," he replied.

+

+"Why, I didn't hear you," she said.

+

+"No. I took my trusty pitch-pipe down in the woods and scared the

+birds. I have some mercy on you and mother."

+

+"What is your aim?" asked his sister. "What do you want to do? Concert

+work?"

+

+"Yes, perhaps. Mazzini says I could teach right now if I wanted to."

+

+"Teach?" repeated Kathleen, trying to speak respectfully, but smiling

+at the man in the moon, who grinned back as if he understood.

+

+"Of course, there's no necessity for that, so I shall simply prepare

+myself for public work; recitals; possibly go abroad for the prestige

+of study over there. Not that I need it but the name goes a long way,

+and if I should go into opera it is best to begin there."

+

+The man in the moon grew redder in the face. So did Kathleen; but she

+knew that sublime self-assurance is an asset not to be despised. She

+looked at her brother's trim shapely head, rising from the white silk

+collar of his negligée shirt.

+

+"Does Mazzini really think you are already prepared to teach?" she

+asked.

+

+"Oh, yes. I had very few errors in method to unlearn, and he says,

+given a good voice, a good presence, and good looks, tact, and an

+attractive studio, pupils will come fast enough," replied Edgar

+carelessly. "He said he'd send me his overflow; but of course all that

+was in joke. He knows that it is no question of money with me."

+

+Kathleen ceased to smile at the moon, for her thoughts recurred to

+their father, meeting his problems in the heat of the great city. So

+far his letters had breathed no hint of trouble.

+

+"That's a glorious feeling, Edgar," she said soberly, "to feel certain

+that you can be independent."

+

+"Yes," he returned, speaking low, and holding the cigarette between his

+fingers. "I said I'd show father, and I will."

+

+The remainder of his thoughts he did not voice; but there was some one

+else he meant to show. The vivacious Mrs. Larrabee who had dared to use

+him when it suited her and then discard him with raised eyebrows and a

+scornful word. She should see him win the plaudits of the multitude;

+then, when she endeavored to add her incense and claim to have been his

+inspiration, it should be his turn to show cold disdain. He ground the

+even teeth at some memory.

+

+"I want to tell you, Edgar," went on Kathleen in the same serious tone,

+"that I am proud of your determination; proud of your regular work;

+proud of your cutting down on smoking; and it will overwhelm me with

+joy to see you succeed."

+

+"Thanks, Kath," he returned. "I appreciate that."

+

+"And I also want to ask you not to make love to Violet Manning," went

+on the low, serious voice.

+

+Edgar was dumb, and now the man in the moon met _him_ with a grin.

+

+"You know it will be only an idle pastime with you, and because she is

+the only girl here. It might mean a lot to her, and--it's a hard world

+for girls."

+

+Kathleen had not intended to end her appeal in that way, but the

+declaration broke from her.

+

+"She doesn't care a picayune for me," returned Edgar. "Don't you

+worry." He hoped his sister would contradict him; but she did not.

+

+"You might be able to make her," she said. "Be too manly to try, Edgar.

+Do, do be unselfish and honest."

+

+The earnest deliberation of her tone caused her listener to reflect for

+a moment; and the man in the moon, by this time crimson in the face,

+met his frowning regard mirthfully.

+

+

+

+

+CHAPTER XXV

+

+BY MOONLIGHT

+

+

+While Edgar was still frowning, and divided between consoled pride

+and a consciousness of guilt, a tall dark form came into sight in the

+moonlit landscape. It broke into a run as it neared the cottage, and

+with a sense of relief Edgar recognized Philip Sidney, who bounded over

+the piazza railing.

+

+Catching sight of Edgar sitting alone, he spoke eagerly:--

+

+"Has Kathleen gone anywhere?"

+

+"No, she's there in the hammock. How did you break away so early?"

+

+"I didn't think it was going to be easy," replied Phil half laughing,

+and looking toward the shadowy hammock where Kathleen in her white gown

+was watching him; "but we finished supper a long time ago, and--and

+have been talking ever since. We had told each other about everything

+we knew, and so I thought"--his voice trailed away--"well, I think I

+was homesick."

+

+"Why didn't you bring Violet with you?" asked Edgar.

+

+"I tried to; that is, I suggested that it was too heavenly a night to

+keep still, and asked her if she would like to go to walk--" As he

+talked, Phil kept his eyes on the white figure in the hammock and he

+spoke eagerly as if he were justifying himself. "But," he went on, "she

+said she had a headache and felt that she must excuse herself."

+

+Edgar looked up triumphantly at the man in the moon, but he refused

+to see the joke. His hilarious mood had changed. He beamed down now

+in pensive golden serenity with the usual remote benevolence for all

+lovers which has won his reputation.

+

+"What was there in that tea I made?" inquired Kathleen lazily. "Mother

+has the headache, too. Isn't it a shame on such an evening."

+

+"Too bad," said Phil perfunctorily. He approached the hammock and

+neither he nor Kathleen noted that Edgar made an unostentatious

+departure such as the comic papers describe as a cat-like sneak.

+Certainly Pluto could not have moved any more quietly, and his heart

+was gay.

+

+"Headache!" he thought, the even teeth broadly exhibited. "What that

+headache needs is the water-cure"; and the boarders sitting out in

+front of the Wright cottage heard the "Toreador Song" blithely whistled

+by some one coming across the field.

+

+When Edgar arrived at the farmhouse he looked about for a familiar

+figure. Among the little group, Eliza Brewster was the only one he

+knew. He approached her with his most debonair manner.

+

+"Good evening, Eliza. Will you please tell Miss Manning I am here?"

+

+"She's got the headache, Mr. Fabian."

+

+"So Mr. Sidney said; but I thought she might see me for just a minute.

+I want to tell her something important."

+

+"Well, that's too bad, 'cause she's gone to bed. I'll take any message

+you want me to, and give it to her in the morning. I'd rather not

+disturb her now 'cause I just took her up a pitcher o' water and she

+told me she was goin' to try to go to sleep."

+

+Edgar was so blankly silent that Eliza spoke again.

+

+"I'll call Mrs. Wright if you'd rather see her. She's in her room

+writin' a letter."

+

+"No, no, don't trouble yourself," said the visitor, lightly. "Good

+night."

+

+He moved away quickly toward the Villa Chantecler and made a détour

+around it. The little piazza overlooking the sea gleamed white in the

+moonlight. The bay leaves stood up crisp and polished. Edgar recalled

+the mocking in Violet's eyes as they had sat there this afternoon. To

+lose an evening like this. It was a crime!

+

+Coming out beside the orchard he looked up at the windows of Violet's

+room. They were dark.

+

+His hopeful vanity relinquished the hope that she had manoeuvred to get

+rid of Phil in order to leave the coast clear for himself. He moved up

+the incline and threw himself down in the shadow. He could hear a stir

+at the front of the house. The lingerers in the moonlight were moving

+inside and he could see lamps twinkle in rooms where the shades were

+pulled down.

+

+In a few minutes more all lights vanished. Only the rising tide broke

+the stillness. Edgar had been giving himself over to dreams of a

+brilliant future in which his only handicap consisted of his father's

+money. Would the cynical blasé critics be able to be as fair to him as

+if he had been discovered among the peasants of Italy?

+

+Suddenly he realized that never would a more wonderful stage-setting be

+his than that which now surrounded him. He rose on his elbow and looked

+up again at Violet's windows.

+

+Then he began to sing. Into the girl's unrestful dreams the sound fell

+like balm:----

+

+    "Drink to me only with thine eyes,

+    And I will pledge with mine."

+

+She was wide awake suddenly and looking wide-eyed toward the open

+windows.

+

+    "Leave but a kiss within the cup

+    And I'll not ask for wine."

+

+Her heart beat fast and she pressed her hand over her eyes, every

+faculty absorbed in listening to the melting loveliness of the voice.

+

+Last night she would have knelt happily by the open window and called

+out a hushed "Bravo," to the singer.

+

+Now she lay perfectly still after the song ceased.

+

+"It is because there isn't any other girl here," she reflected. "He is

+a fashionable man with countless friends. I am a dancing-teacher whom

+he forgets in town and always will forget.--That's the most beautiful

+voice in the world," she thought with swift irrelevance; but Edgar,

+looking up at the windows, saw only blankness. He smiled to himself. He

+felt that she was not asleep.

+

+The moon shed a wondrous luminous glow in the clear heavens as it

+sailed above him. The "man" looked into vast space as though no such

+hilarity as that of his earlier mood had been possible.

+

+Edgar sang again. The higher the range of the song, with the more ease

+did his voice thrill the still night.

+

+    "Oh, Moon of my delight, that knows no wane,

+    The Moon of heaven is rising once again.

+    How oft hereafter rising shall she look

+    Through this same garden after me in vain!

+

+    And when thyself with shining foot shall pass

+    Among the guests star-scattered on the grass,

+    And in thy joyous errand reach the spot where I made one,

+      Turn down an empty glass!"

+

+Violet did not know when or how she reached the window, but the ending

+of the song found her kneeling there, sobbing quietly, her head buried

+on her crossed arms. The moonlight fell on her shining hair. Edgar saw

+her and, springing up, came near, careful to keep in shadow, for other

+window shades had risen.

+

+"Violet!" he called softly.

+

+No answer.

+

+"Violet!" he said again. A hand white in the moonlight motioned him

+away, and he believed that she was weeping. Tears of sympathy, of

+triumph, sprang to his own eyes. So before very long would hundreds be

+shaken by his art.

+

+"Just say good night, Violet," he begged softly; but she would not look

+up. She waved her hand again, and her shade came down.

+

+Only one week since she had come to the island and it seemed months.

+Her aunt's words had pierced what she knew now had been a hope. How

+could she have been so insane as to hope it! Even given such a wild

+supposition as that Edgar Fabian would marry a nobody, what comfort or

+peace was in store for his wife? Violet had seen a play called "The

+Concert," in which a wife had been obliged to share her artist husband

+with a miscellaneous lot of female admirers. Better a thousand times

+to marry a shoemaker or any other obscure body and so be left to his

+undisturbed possession.

+

+Aunt Amy was terribly right. More right than she knew.

+

+Violet crept back to bed in a tumult of sensible reasoning,

+accompanying which was an intoxicating obbligato of divine music, which

+sang and sang through her excited brain.

+

+Meanwhile Edgar, strolling back deliberately through the field, smiled

+at his own thoughts. So the mocking eyes had been quenched. What a fine

+combination that girl was: so spirited, so sincere, so temperamental.

+

+Kathleen's appeal recurred to him. "She's right, I suppose," he

+reflected. "After smelling hothouse flowers all winter, the wild rose

+is alluring; but--" his further thoughts were vague; but they comprised

+a virtuous intention of fair play towards the girl whom he had left

+weeping at the feet of his genius.

+

+       *       *       *       *       *

+

+Kathleen sprang to a sitting posture as Philip approached the hammock,

+and sitting on its edge, swung gently.

+

+"Well," he said, smiling, "aren't we going to the rocks?"

+

+"Oh, are we?"

+

+"Certainly. I was afraid I shouldn't get back before you had gone. I

+was afraid you and Edgar might be making the most of the opportunity

+for a fraternal _tête-à-tête_."

+

+"We were; but we found the piazza satisfactory for it."

+

+"Blasé creatures!" returned Phil. "Hurry, Kathleen," he added eagerly.

+"Get your coat."

+

+"I wonder if mother may not need me."

+

+"No one needs you so much as I do to-night," was the impulsive

+response. "The Villa finished, a summer's work before me, a full moon,

+a rising tide. I feel as if I could hardly contain myself to-night,

+and I've been holding my wings folded, and listening to Miss Foster

+and Eliza deplore the high price of fruit, and sympathizing with Miss

+Manning's headache, and holding wool for Mrs. Wright, all the time in a

+prickly heat for fear you would be gone somewhere; and then to get over

+here and find you lying like a little white cloud in the hammock--it's

+just like everything else that happens to me--just the best thing in

+the world!"

+

+Kathleen laughed at the boyish joy of his tone. "Well, I'll see if

+mother needs me," she said, and went into the house and to her mother's

+room.

+

+The moonlight streamed across the floor and the figure on the bed

+turned. "Is that you, Kathleen?" asked the prostrate one, through her

+nose.

+

+"Yes, how are you feeling, dear? Can I do anything for you?"

+

+"Why, yes, Kathleen. If you've had enough of the piazza, you might

+light the lamp and read to me a little while."

+

+The simple request magnified itself to a disaster. Kathleen frowned,

+not at her mother, but at herself. Was this all the progress she had

+made?

+

+"Shall I leave Phil alone?" she asked quietly.

+

+Mrs. Fabian revived. "I thought he was over at the Wrights."

+

+"He was; but he just came home. Violet had a headache, too."

+

+"Where is Edgar?"

+

+"I don't know."

+

+"Oh, then, stay with him. It's too bad for a headache in every house

+to spoil his evening. I wonder if I couldn't get down to the piazza.

+Perhaps I'd feel better in the fresh air."

+

+A little pulse, its existence hitherto unsuspected, began doing queer

+things in Kathleen's throat.

+

+"Phil wants to go down to the rocks," she said.

+

+"Well, why doesn't he? He was mooning all over the island alone last

+night."

+

+"He thinks I am going with him. I came in for my coat. Shall I tell him

+you need me?"

+

+"Oh, no. Go with him. And don't speak to me when you come in. I shall

+be asleep. I'm feeling better."

+

+Kathleen came over to the bed and kissed her mother, and Mrs. Fabian

+patted her hand. "Tell Phil I wish I could go, too," she said with

+nasal sleepiness.

+

+Kathleen smiled, and going to her own room took a white polo coat and

+hurried downstairs.

+

+Phil met her with relief, and she gave him a couple of cushions.

+

+"I began to think," he said, "that she did want you."

+

+"Only for a minute," returned Kathleen. "She sent word she wished she

+was able to come with us."

+

+The girl looked up at her companion as they moved down on the grass and

+he smiled at her with bravado.

+

+"Not one polite lie to-night," he answered; "I want you all to myself.

+Think how seldom it has happened."

+

+Kathleen laughed from sheer contentment.

+

+"I think Cap'n James is the only one who has seen you alone," she

+replied.

+

+"He's been a trump: and now," Phil inflated his lungs and looked about

+the irregular outline of the island lying in sheeted silver, and at the

+great lighthouses flashing in the distance, "I have a foothold in this

+paradise."

+

+Their destination was the spot where rocks rose highest on the island's

+shore, turning the rising tide into boiling cauldrons of white foam,

+and meeting the tremendous impact of the great waves with jagged

+granite shelves that flung the compact water high in fountains of

+diamonds. Giant power, giant unrest, fascinating beauty glittering with

+phosphorescence, and silvered for miles with moonlight.

+

+"Let me help you, Kathleen," said Phil, offering his hand.

+

+"'Bred and bawn in a briar patch,'" she responded, springing lightly

+over the rocks.

+

+"I follow you, then," he answered; and Kathleen led the way to a partly

+sheltered nook, too inaccessible for most less-accustomed visitors,

+and so, remote from certain other figures which loomed penguin-like on

+points of rock.

+

+"Father thinks he made the mistake of his life in not buying the

+island outright," said the girl; "then there wouldn't be any penguins."

+

+"Supposing you had bought the Villa Chantecler? Where would I be?"

+asked Phil, as he settled down a little below the seat she had chosen,

+and tried to put the second cushion behind her back.

+

+"Not at all," she said, turning to him. "Share and share alike." She

+laughed softly. "When I'm married, I'm going to have the tenderloin cut

+in two. Once in a while a husband wants his wife to have it all, but

+mostly I've noticed the wife expects the husband to have it all."

+

+"That's like my mother," said Phil, resting his elbow on the discarded

+cushion. "I have the most wonderful mother."

+

+"I know you have." Kathleen met the eyes lifted to her with a gaze as

+grave as their own and a sympathy that opened the flood-gates to all

+that was pressing in her companion's heart to-night.

+

+"No one but myself knows how wonderful," said Phil, looking back at the

+water, something swelling in his throat. After a pause he went on. "We

+never had much money, and I couldn't pull away and do what I wished.

+That would be no return for my father's efforts and denials for me.

+Mother understood. Her whole life was a living example of self-denial

+and courage. She taught me to think clearly and showed me the value of

+noble-mindedness, virtue, and controlling love. It was her splendid

+patience and wisdom that gave me education and standing-room in the

+world."

+

+Kathleen did not speak, but he felt her receptivity.

+

+"It was very early when I began to think and dream and plan along

+entirely different lines from those my lot promised. My whole being

+from a child cried out for artistic expression; and what pathetic

+outbursts there were! I understand it now. Doesn't it seem natural for

+a child born in the month of May with a mother like a Madonna, sweet

+and gentle, to chase butterflies and pick flowers for their beauty

+and fragrance? And that child--I can't remember when he didn't long

+to create; but firmly, day by day, he was urged toward the practical.

+Create! Yes; but let it be machinery; money.

+

+"The marble building with its sculpture against the blue of the sky,

+the painting that makes men wonder, the book that sets their hearts to

+throbbing--that was what I craved; and often lost my head in craving,

+my whole being vibrating with a great cry of joy in the thought of such

+creation. Can't you see it? The month of May--and the flowers--and

+God's universe--and the boy!"

+

+The last word choked in Phil's throat.

+

+"Your mother," said Kathleen in a low voice. "She understood."

+

+Phil looked up, and surprised the tenderness, the comprehension in the

+face bent toward him. "She understood," he returned slowly, "but she

+thought she saw her duty. I went to college. I forgot her many times,

+and every time I was a fool. At last, I came out and was put to the

+treadmill; but in my last year at school a wonderful thing happened

+to my mother. A Mr. Tremaine visited our cabin and left with her a

+little book. Sometime I will tell you about it if you care to know;

+but it made a great difference in her life. My work in the mine seemed

+typical of my life. The grime, the clank of machinery, the perfunctory

+drudgery, and the hand's breath of blue sky above. I crushed my

+longings and tried to be practical. Could purgatory be worse than, with

+such a nature, to be caged in underground gloom? The glimpse of sky was

+like my mother's eyes with their joy, their knowledge. She talked to

+me, she permeated me with the new point of view; the new strength; the

+new patience. My father praised my efficiency, and then suddenly the

+nightmare was broken by a message as from heaven--you know the rest!"

+Philip turned quickly, and again met his companion's speaking eyes.

+

+"Kathleen, can you forgive me!" he exclaimed. "This has been an orgy of

+egotism!" Even as he gazed, the dark eyes veiled themselves. Only then

+he realized how wide-open the doors had been thrown.

+

+"I thank you for telling me," she said, with her direct look.

+

+"I seem," he answered, with a vague unrest,--"I seem always to have

+been going to tell you. There is--there is no one but you to whom I

+could talk like that." He stared out on the water, then changed the

+position of the cushion.

+

+"Was that Mr. Tremaine a publisher?" asked Kathleen.

+

+"I don't know. Mother has always wished she might know who he was."

+

+"There is a Mr. Tremaine who lives in Gramercy Park who is a friend of

+father's."

+

+"Gramercy Park?" repeated Phil, and suddenly remembered. "Then I

+believe his son and heir was my first and only patron. I made a picture

+for a small Tremaine one day in the park with Violet Manning."

+

+"Wouldn't it be odd if it turned out to be the same?" said Kathleen.

+

+A magnificent burst of spray clattering in myriad drops on the rock

+near them warned them that their tenure of the place was short.

+

+The girl smiled. "I think, as we have spoken of Mr. Tremaine, I must

+return your confidence with another"; and Phil, looking up suddenly,

+saw a new shy consciousness in the slender face which was for some

+reason disagreeable.

+

+"Don't tell me to-night, Kathleen!" he said impulsively.

+

+"Why not?" she asked, wondering.

+

+"I don't know," he answered honestly; "only that everything is perfect.

+What you tell me might change it. Any change would be for the worse."

+

+Kathleen smiled thoughtfully into space.

+

+"I suppose," she said, with a little shrug, "if you had urged me I

+might have popped back into my shell. I'm terribly at home in a shell!

+But as it is I think I'm going to tell you."

+

+Phil looked at the delicate face, smiling in the moonlight.

+

+"Is it something you have made up your mind to do?" he asked.

+

+"Yes," she answered, looking at him, surprised. "How did you guess?"

+

+"Then don't tell me till to-morrow. I want to think that this won't

+end--that it will always be a rising tide and--and we watching it

+together."

+

+That newly acquired pulse of Kathleen's asserted itself again, but she

+swallowed past it resolutely. "Oh, I shall still be able to watch the

+rising tide--once in a while," she answered, laughing. "But I'm going

+to tell you. I'm writing a little book. There!"

+

+"What?" cried Phil.

+

+"Yes, and I'm going to publish it. Mr. Tremaine likes the idea. He is

+the only one I've told."

+

+"And is that all?" asked Phil eagerly.

+

+"All!" Kathleen regarded him with mock indignation. The little pulse

+prevented its being genuine. "Is all you're going to do, just to paint

+pictures, Mr. Sidney?"

+

+"Why, I think that's bully," exclaimed Phil, turning so suddenly as to

+test the sharpness of his rocky couch. "Tell me about it."

+

+"Well, for the past year, I have been bewitched by the microscope. It

+reveals a world that we are too clumsy to discern. The idea occurred to

+me to write a series of microscopic fairy tales."

+

+"Fine! Fine!"

+

+"It's great fun. And of course they will be illustrated."

+

+"Who's going to do it?"

+

+"You."

+

+Phil looked up quickly. She was laughing and blushing. "Of course you

+wouldn't consider it," she said, "but there might be money in it. How

+do you feel toward pot-boilers?"

+

+"I don't know, Kathleen. Tell me more. What sort of illustrations?"

+

+"Well, you saw me with that moss yesterday that I had brought up out of

+the woods? The slide I was making was to be the design for a tree in

+the illustration. I thought to make the pictures educational in a way.

+To put in a corner of the page what the original was. Moss, seaweed, an

+aphide, or whatever it happened to be."

+

+"What a pretty idea!" said Phil.

+

+"Of course, you don't want to do it, though," she went on in a

+different tone. "Just as your studio is finished, and you are aching to

+paint."

+

+"It's good of you to think of me," replied the artist warmly. "I don't

+know that I could do that work. I should have to satisfy Mr. Tremaine

+with a sample. We couldn't put our educational tips on the pictures,

+but there could be a thin cover for each illustration with the

+description on a corner of that."

+

+"Oh, yes, much better," agreed Kathleen.

+

+They talked a little longer and the splendid tide suddenly splashed

+them with glittering spray.

+

+"A broad hint," laughed Kathleen, springing up. "We must go back."

+

+Phil sighed. "I'm sorry," he said, and getting reluctantly to his feet,

+he started to give his hand to Kathleen, then remembering that she

+preferred independence, he picked up the cushions and started ahead of

+her.

+

+They had nearly crossed the rocks when a cry from her arrested him.

+

+He turned. She had sunk down in the moonlight.

+

+"Oh, how dull of me!" she cried. "I'm used to my rubber-soled shoes."

+

+"What! Turned your ankle?" Phil flung the cushions over upon the grass,

+and hurried to her.

+

+"I'm afraid so."

+

+"I ought to have helped you," said Phil, with contrition, "but I

+thought you preferred--"

+

+"I do. I'm a regular mountain goat." Kathleen was half laughing in a

+way that showed her pain.

+

+Phil lifted her gently, and she went on:--

+

+"Everybody knows nowadays that the best way to treat a strain is to

+walk right ahead. Oh!"

+

+"Yes, that may do on flat ground," said Phil; "I'm a mountain goat too,

+so don't be afraid"; and, lifting her in his arms, he carried her over

+the remaining rocks and set her down upon the grassy bank.

+

+

+

+

+CHAPTER XXVI

+

+TIDES

+

+

+Philip paused a moment when he reached the grassy bank.

+

+"You're quite sure you wish to walk?" he said.

+

+"I certainly am," she returned with an effort at lightness. "It's the

+best thing I can do, now that I've been so careless."

+

+He set her down gently, and picked up the cushions with one hand while

+he put the other under her arm, and they started; but there was no

+path; the points of granite and the grassy hummocks made difficult

+walking for sound feet. Phil felt his companion's sudden limps and

+cringes, the while she was talking valiantly of the satisfaction it was

+to feel that a little pain didn't matter, so long as one knew that the

+best thing for a strain was exercise; but all the time it seemed to her

+that home was miles away, and that this Transgressors' Boulevard would

+never end.

+

+Phil smiled down at the dark uncovered head so near his shoulder; then

+as she sank in an unexpected hollow:--

+

+"Pluck is all very well, Kathleen," he said, "but I'm going to pick you

+up again."

+

+"No, no, Phil! You could never carry me home. I'm much too heavy to be

+doing these foolish things." Tears of vexation stood in the girl's eyes.

+

+"I needn't carry you home," he returned quietly, "but it is all my

+fault that you slipped. As soon as we get to level ground you shall try

+again. Cushions will be safe in Arcadia, I fancy," he added, storing

+them at the foot of a rock they were passing. "I can come back for

+them."

+

+"Put this heavy polo coat with them," said Kathleen, trying not to cry.

+"No need of carrying any more than you have to. Oh, Phil, really! I

+could hop. Couldn't I hop if you lifted me on one side?"

+

+"We'll hop, skip, and jump when we get on the level," he returned,

+wrapping the coat carefully about her, and taking her up again.

+

+"Put your arm around my neck, please. There we are." He moved on at a

+good pace. "Can't you feel that it's easy?"

+

+"I'm so ashamed to make you this trouble." Kathleen's lip quivered.

+

+"I'm so ashamed that you are hurt, but I need the exercise," rejoined

+her bearer. "What am I going to do now that I don't have to struggle

+with the Villa? Have you a rowboat?"

+

+"Yes," returned Kathleen, in a small voice.

+

+They were approaching a cottage with sightless midnight eyes. She had

+no idea what time it was, but devoutly hoped they were the only persons

+awake on the island. It was ridiculous to be carried about like this,

+and a terrible imposition on an innocent guest; but how wonderful he

+was, striding along from hummock to hummock with apparent ease.

+

+"Then I'll do some rowing, if you'll let me. Do you like to row?"

+

+"Yes," came again in such a small, choked voice, that Phil suddenly

+turned his head and his face came close to Kathleen's. The elegant

+remote Miss Fabian, with the slumbrous eyes and the red-brown hair, was

+a helpless child in his arms.

+

+"Are you suffering?" he asked, and such a note of tenderness sounded

+suddenly in his voice that the girl's heart gave a great throb.

+

+"Only in my mind," she faltered, trying to laugh. "You'll set me down

+as soon as we reach the point, won't you? It's easy from there."

+

+It was not very easy from there, but Kathleen set her teeth, and walked

+it, leaning on Phil's arm, and sometimes stopping to rest.

+

+"And I thought it was such a small island," she said with a little

+sighing laugh when at last the home piazza was reached.

+

+Philip helped her upstairs to her room.

+

+"Shall I knock on your mother's door?" he asked.

+

+"No, indeed. I can get on perfectly well now." She held out her hand.

+"Will you forgive me?"

+

+He took it and looked straight into her eyes without speaking.

+

+For an instant he held her hand, still mute, then turned, and instead

+of going to his room went downstairs again.

+

+Kathleen, closing her door softly, heard him. She stood a moment

+perfectly still, her lambent eyes looking into space, the long straight

+lines of her white coat shining in the dim room.

+

+"If it should be!" she thought with awe. "If it should be!"

+

+Philip went out on the porch. The tide was receding and dragging in and

+out the stones of the beach. He frowned thoughtfully at the rolling

+expanse. "This is disturbing," he reflected. His blood was pumping and

+dragging mightily at locked doors of his own which he knew must be

+locked for years to come.

+

+"And even then it cannot be Kathleen who opens them," he reminded

+himself. While she was flashing about to fashionable functions in her

+limousine the coming season, he would still be planning which meal to

+make the substantial one of the day.

+

+"The cushions!" he thought suddenly, and, finding relief in action,

+he began running back with long, even strides, through the silent,

+silvered fields.

+

+       *       *       *       *       *

+

+Before ten o'clock the next morning Edgar presented himself at the

+farmhouse to make inquiries for the invalid. He was eager to begin

+treating Violet right; and as a commencement he brought a box of

+bonbons which he had ordered from the city before that resolution was

+made. However, flowers and candy were conventional attentions. So were

+books. He reflected that no one could criticize his giving Violet a

+marked copy of Tennyson.

+

+"She isn't here," Mrs. Wright told him when he reached the house. "She

+has gone somewhere to get an extra coat of tan and see the tide come

+in."

+

+"Why didn't I come sooner!" exclaimed Edgar, vexed. "I thought her

+headache--I thought she wouldn't be up early."

+

+"Oh, I think you must have exorcised that last night," said Mrs.

+Wright. "How we all enjoyed the medicine! Will you promise to sing

+every night if one of us will fall ill?"

+

+Edgar smiled and twisted his mustache. "We have a lame duck over at our

+house," he said. "Kathleen managed to slip on the rocks last night.

+She's as plucky as they make 'em, though. She's limping around. Phil

+was with her--not very bright of him, I must say."

+

+"Oh, I'm sorry he has that cloud over his first morning at the studio,"

+returned Mrs. Wright. "I saw him go in there an hour ago."

+

+"You're sure Violet isn't there?" asked Edgar quickly.

+

+"Oh, perfectly," rejoined Mrs. Wright quietly. "We're as much warned

+off the Villa as ever, now, you know. I hope he is going to do great

+things."

+

+"Yes, I hope so," said Edgar absently. "This full sunlight isn't

+particularly good for Violet's head. Don't you think I'd better find

+her and get her out of it?"

+

+"Oh, it's the steadiest little head in the world. Last night was simply

+the exception that proves the rule."

+

+"Well, then, she'll be fit for tennis. I'm going to find her and see if

+we can't have some singles before dinner."

+

+"All right, if you can find her."

+

+Edgar tossed his head. "Perhaps I couldn't put a girdle 'round the

+earth, but this island's a cinch"; and with the beribboned box under

+his arm and the sun glinting on his polished blond head, Edgar set off

+running toward the rocks where Kathleen had met her slip.

+

+Perhaps, he reflected, it was just as well that Violet had been _hors

+de combat_ last evening. If they had come down here in the moonlight,

+and he had sung, and she had turned upon him that wonderful, confiding,

+devout look which warmed every fibre of his vanity, there is no telling

+what he might have said or done. He was shrewd enough to know that

+Mrs. Larrabee's rebuff had caused a rebound in which just such an

+innocent, womanly girl as Violet Manning could catch his heart in both

+hands. She had laughed at him yesterday afternoon, and to force her

+to capitulate he might have done something foolish in the evening. Now

+that pitfall--the time, the place, and the girl--was past, and the

+bright clear winds of morning found him forewarned and forearmed; but

+friendly, perfectly friendly. He thoroughly liked Violet Manning.

+

+All this time he was running toward the show-place at high tide, the

+precipitous rocks whose walls and crannies repulsed the crashing waves,

+causing a never-ending series of fountains, and cascades of crystal

+water.

+

+A few penguins in shade hats studded the heights this morning, but

+Violet was not among them. He walked past slowly, scanning the rocks.

+A few rods farther on, a small harbor pierced the island's side. Its

+farther bank was soft with evergreens; a sturdy growth of tall spruces

+which fixed their roots amid the inhospitable rocks.

+

+An artist had set up his easel on the near shore, and was sitting on

+a camp-stool before it, working busily. A large straw hat was crowded

+down to the tops of his ears to thwart the wind, and Edgar wondered

+who might be the competitor of the painter who was working away at the

+Villa Chantecler. He glanced carelessly at the artist and then renewed

+his scrutiny of the rocks; being so engrossed, that the next time his

+gaze went forward, he saw that a girl was lying on the rock near the

+easel, leaning on her elbow and alternately watching the artist and the

+sea.

+

+Edgar suspected the truth with a wave of anger. How could Phil be in

+two places at once? He had allowed Kathleen to slip on the rocks.

+Probably he had been absent-minded. This had been planned for; Mrs.

+Wright couldn't have known it.

+

+He strode forward.

+

+"Good morning!" he said, with awe-inspiring dignity.

+

+"Oh, hello," returned Violet carelessly, turning her head so as to see

+the newcomer.

+

+Could this nonchalant girl be she who had wept at the window!

+

+"I went over to the house to see how you were," said Edgar severely,

+"and Mrs. Wright said you were watching the tide."

+

+"Yes," returned Violet, lazy in the sun, "but I found something so much

+better to watch."

+

+"You can't see anything from there," declared Edgar, speaking crisply.

+

+"Do you allow that, Mr. Sidney?" asked the girl.

+

+"I allow anything but people to talk to me," said Phil, busy with the

+blues and greens of the water.

+

+"There, you see!" said Violet accusingly. "He hadn't said a word of

+reproach to me before you came"; and the little minx allowed herself

+to throw a devoted glance in the direction of the artist's hat. If the

+mouse were going ultimately to make its escape, surely the kitten was

+entitled to whatever fun it could find in the situation.

+

+Edgar pulled himself together.

+

+"It's great just now," he said. "Don't you want to come out on the

+rocks, and see the row?"

+

+Violet shook her head and touched her finger to her lips warningly.

+

+Edgar scowled and looked at Phil's swift brush. Confound the girl,

+how was he to treat her magnanimously if she wouldn't give him an

+opportunity?

+

+He held out the beribboned box and raised his eyebrows, gesturing with

+his head toward the rocks.

+

+"Is there a string tied to it?" asked Violet, with a saucy, lazy

+smile; and Edgar lifted his chin superbly and tossed the box into her

+lap.

+

+"The only girl here," she reflected; for she felt tempted to be

+flattered by the implied forethought.

+

+"How perfectly sweet," she said and opened the luxurious box. Rising

+to her knees she lifted a chocolate in the little tongs and put it in

+Philip's mouth.

+

+"_Mille remerciments_," he mumbled; "but don't do it again, please."

+

+"Phil wants to be alone," said Edgar. "Can't you see that?" He held out

+his hand to Violet to rise. She ignored it, but rose with supple grace.

+

+"Well," she said, "if little boys will come and chatter to me, I

+suppose I shall have to go. It's been so interesting, Mr. Sidney.

+That's going to be wonderful. I hope you'll let me watch you again

+sometime."

+

+"You didn't really want to stay there, did you?" asked Edgar, when they

+had begun to climb out on the rocks at a point where there were no

+other gazers.

+

+"Indeed I did, marplot," returned the girl, "but three's a crowd when

+one is painting."

+

+"Oh, very well," said Edgar, stiffly; "I'll stay away the next time."

+

+"That's right. Do," returned Violet. "Have a chocolate? These are

+delicious."

+

+"No, I thank you." Edgar gave a dark glance at his companion. He did

+not like her mood.

+

+"I didn't know you cared more for painting than for music," he said.

+

+"More?" she returned with wide eyes. "Oh, no, I'm an impartial and

+humble admirer of all the arts."

+

+Wasn't she going to speak of last evening? He stood in silence beside

+her for a space to give her opportunity; but she was engrossed in

+munching a chocolate.

+

+"My!" she said, regarding the heavy, satin, heart-shaped crimson box

+admiringly, "I've gazed at these with awe in shop windows, and then

+gone in and bought ten cents worth in a striped bag. I feel so grand!"

+

+"I was disappointed last night," said Edgar, his gloomy regard changing

+slowly to his best look of devotion. There was nothing for him in

+Violet's eyes this morning. The expression he craved must be brought

+back in order that he might exercise care to treat her fairly.

+

+"Because I couldn't go to walk with Mr. Sidney?" she rejoined, with the

+ironical gayety Edgar hated. "I was, too; but your charming serenade

+almost made up for it."

+

+Edgar ground the even teeth. "I suppose it was foolish of me to exert

+myself," he said. "I probably waked you up."

+

+"Oh, it didn't sound like the least bit of exertion," replied Violet.

+"The ease of your singing is really its great charm. You didn't mind my

+laughing, right at the end, did you?"

+

+"Laughing!"

+

+"Yes; you see Miss Foster is on my side of the house, and when you sang

+

+      'Turn down an empty glass,'

+

+I knew she'd think it was a prohibition song, and I nearly suffocated."

+

+Edgar met her dancing eyes, and glared at her while she ate a chocolate

+with relish.

+

+"And I thought you were temperamental!" he muttered.

+

+"Do you wonder really that Maine is a prohibition state?" she asked

+conversationally. "Here, eat this peppermint one for me. I don't like

+them," and the even teeth opened mechanically to receive the bonbon she

+popped between them. "I mean because it's so intoxicating here anyway.

+Why, I can hardly keep my feet still this morning"; and as they were

+standing, Violet, on her flat rock, and with the great crimson heart

+pressed to her breast, began to clog.

+

+Edgar half unconsciously moved away to where he could see her nimble

+feet. "Whistle," she laughed. "Whistle, and I won't come to you, my

+lad!"

+

+Edgar whistled, he couldn't help it. Her fair hair blowing, her

+sea-blue eyes shining, and her sure feet dancing, she seemed the

+incarnation of the radiant morning. He found himself patting in rhythm,

+and whistling like a bird until she tired and sank in a blue heap on

+the rock.

+

+"Oh, it's a jolly world," she cried.

+

+"And you're a jolly girl!" he exclaimed, striding over and flinging

+himself down beside her. "Why don't you teach me to do that? You

+promised."

+

+"I've begun twice, haven't I? You haven't any patience."

+

+"Oh, that was in the woods. What could I do on a hillside? Teach me in

+the summer house this afternoon."

+

+"That's where you ought to be now, practising," said Violet.

+

+"I've put in half an hour this morning."

+

+"That isn't enough. It's time for another."

+

+"Oh, you want me to go, do you, so you can go back and watch Phil?"

+

+"Well, I never before had a chance to see the wheels go 'round in a

+painting. Don't you think it's wonderful?"

+

+"Yes, he's a wizard. It's a pity you couldn't go with him last night.

+He took Kath and she managed to turn her ankle."

+

+"So he has been telling me. I'm sorry. So you'd rather have had mine

+turned? Then I couldn't have taught you to clog, remember."

+

+"No; he might not have gone mooning around then. He might have paid

+more attention to _you_."

+

+Violet glanced at the speaker out of the tail of her eye and ate a

+chocolate. Then she cast a look over on the point where the easel

+stood. "He is so good-looking," she sighed. "I like smooth-faced men."

+

+"My mustache is catching it next, is it?" said Edgar irritably,

+twisting that treasure.

+

+"Oh, I simply despise mustaches," rejoined Violet equably; "but of

+course if it makes you look older, or more dignified, or helps you in

+your career, you have to wear one."

+

+"I don't know as there's any 'have to' about it," returned Edgar. "It's

+just a matter of taste with me"; he made the addition with a superior

+carelessness.

+

+"So it is with me," returned Violet with engaging frankness. "Here's

+another peppermint." She picked it up in the silver tongs. "Open your

+mouth and shut your eyes and I'll give you something to make you wise."

+

+Edgar jerked back his head, seized the confection in his fingers, and

+scaled it across the rocks.

+

+"I loathe peppermint," he said shortly, "and as for making me wise,

+you're making me wiser every day. Will you, or will you not give me a

+lesson in clogging this afternoon?"

+

+"I _will_!" returned Violet, dramatically. "You paid partly in advance

+last night, and I'm the soul of honor!"

+

+He met her mischievous eyes with a baffled look. He longed to shake

+her. His hand lifted mechanically to his mustache and dropped again. He

+had lost faith in that, too.

+

+

+

+

+CHAPTER XXVII

+

+THE SON

+

+

+When Philip returned to dinner that day he found a strange man sitting

+on the veranda with Kathleen. The table beside her was filled with

+loose sheets of paper, and she was reading aloud.

+

+As Phil approached she looked up.

+

+"We spoke of an angel last night," she said, "and lo, he appeared

+to-day. This is Mr. Tremaine, and he knows you already."

+

+Phil laid down his impedimenta and his hat, and shook hands.

+

+The grey-eyed portly stranger smiled as they greeted. "Miss Fabian has

+told me so much about you," he said, "that I am wondering if you belong

+to the Sidneys who took me in in the mountains of Montana one night

+five or six years ago."

+

+Philip's perfunctory gaze quickened.

+

+"And you left my mother a little book?" he asked quickly.

+

+The pressure of the newcomer's handclasp tightened. He nodded.

+

+"The very same," he said. "And you do belong to that charming woman."

+

+"You did a great deal for us, Mr. Tremaine," said Phil heartily.

+

+"And this Kathleen child says we're not through with each other. She

+wants you to illustrate this clever little book of hers."

+

+"If he will," put in the girl quickly. "You don't know yet what small

+business it will be for him to picture my stuff. Show us what you have

+done this morning."

+

+"I hear you are my neighbor in Gramercy Park," said Mr. Tremaine while

+Phil stooped to get his picture. "I hear that the artist who did my

+son's treasure, 'The Proud Robin,' stands before me."

+

+Phil laughed and turned his canvas about. A great wave uplifted its

+heavy snowy crest, just at the point of breaking into rushing surge.

+

+"Stand back," cried Kathleen, "it's coming!" Her cheeks reddened. "You

+do such true things, Phil!"

+

+"Upon my word!" said Mr. Tremaine, "Miss Fabian is right. That's really

+great, Mr. Sidney. One gets the weight of the water. I think the

+breadth and perception of the mountains helped you in that. How long

+have you been so intimate with the physiognomy of old Ocean?"

+

+"I have been at this off and on for some days in time stolen from house

+decoration."

+

+"There is time before dinner," said Kathleen, "and Mr. Tremaine is

+going to stay such a little while, take him over to the Villa. I want

+him to be sure to see it though I begrudge his seeing it without me,

+too!"

+

+"Sure you can't go?" asked Mr. Tremaine.

+

+Kathleen looked ruefully at her right foot, wearing a loose slipper of

+her mother's.

+

+"That field is so rough," she said.

+

+"We'll make an armchair," said Phil.

+

+The girl shook her head. "No, I'll gather up my book. Mr. Tremaine

+likes it, so I'm happy though lame, and you must talk over the

+illustrations together."

+

+In truth she was glad that these two should have the opportunity for

+a _tête-à-tête_ and she smiled happily to herself as she picked up

+the flying sheets. There was color in her cheeks, the rose-color that

+seemed this morning to tinge the universe. It was such a beautiful

+world, and for Mr. Tremaine suddenly to appear and to approve her

+work and to meet Phil--Phil whose eyes had seemed this morning always

+to see her and regard her reflectively, instead of looking over or

+through her--all this made a wonderful combination, a strange, sweet

+expectancy, as of harmonious progressions which could but resolve into

+one triumphant chord.

+

+The dinner hour approached and Mrs. Fabian came out on the piazza.

+

+"How are you, poor child?" she asked with commiseration; then meeting

+Kathleen's eyes, she laughed. "Here I am pitying you, and you look as

+if you'd been left a million. What is it? Is Mr. Tremaine so pleased

+with your stories?"

+

+"He thinks they'll do," returned Kathleen.

+

+"Very modest," said Mrs. Fabian; "but I'm quite sure from your looks

+that he said you were a second Hans Christian Andersen. Keeping it a

+secret from me, too! I'm a very good judge of stories, and you might

+have asked my opinion about those, at any rate."

+

+"I felt very shy about it, mother, but now I'm just bubbling with

+encouragement; and perhaps Phil will make the pictures."

+

+Mrs. Fabian regarded the rosy face admiringly.

+

+"There, you see his business is coming along, and this morning I gave

+him the commission to paint our portraits."

+

+Even this news could not dampen Kathleen's present mood.

+

+"Yours," she returned. "Remember, I told you I refused to be

+perpetuated as I look now."

+

+"I never saw you look as pretty as you do to-day, in your whole life,"

+said Mrs. Fabian, gazing as she spoke.

+

+The girl laughed from sheer satisfaction. "Is the big head so

+becoming?" she returned.

+

+"I saw Phil taking Mr. Tremaine over to the studio," said Mrs. Fabian.

+"Edgar said this morning he wanted to bring Violet to dinner. He will

+be surprised to find Mr. Tremaine here. We shall have quite a party. I

+hope they won't all be late. If Phil and Mr. Tremaine get to talking

+over at the studio they won't know what time it is."

+

+The air at the island, however, was of a nature to create an inner

+monitor which called to dinner, so the two couples soon approached from

+opposite directions. Mr. Tremaine and Phil were talking busily as they

+came, and Kathleen noted Violet's crimson heart while she drew near.

+She gazed questioningly at her brother whose alert happy face turned

+red as he met her eyes; but Violet was self-possessed when Kathleen

+greeted her.

+

+"Pardon my remaining enthroned, Violet," she said. "I'm not precisely

+wasting steps to-day."

+

+"I heard about it," returned the guest, coming up the steps and meeting

+Mrs. Fabian. "I do hope it's nothing serious."

+

+"No, indeed. I shall soon forget it."

+

+"I suppose neither of you will have a chocolate before dessert, but

+they're very very good." Violet opened the box temptingly as she took a

+seat beside Kathleen.

+

+"Who is that coming with Phil?" asked Edgar.

+

+"My publisher," returned Kathleen, proudly. "Just think, Edgar! I've

+written some stories, and Mr. Tremaine has accepted them!"

+

+Edgar lifted his eyebrows and smiled wonderingly into his sister's

+happy face. "Good work, Kath! It may really pay to be a highbrow. Why

+have you kept so still about it?"

+

+"Oh, that was natural. Supposing Mr. Tremaine had said, 'You're a nice

+child, Kathleen, but your little yarns are trash.' How then! Shouldn't

+I be glad nobody saw me hide my diminished head?"

+

+Edgar continued to regard her curiously. He had never before noticed

+how really good-looking Kath was.

+

+Violet expressed her interest and sympathy heartily, and while she

+was speaking, the other guests arrived and Mr. Tremaine met his son's

+dancing-teacher with pleasure.

+

+It was a gay dinner-party, and Kathleen glowed with satisfaction in Mr.

+Tremaine's manifest interest in Phil. He could be such a useful friend.

+

+They had coffee on the veranda, and while Edgar was planning in what

+manner and how soon he could segregate himself and Violet in the summer

+house, the boy whose duty it was to bring the mail appeared with the

+letters. At a sign from Mrs. Fabian he handed them to her.

+

+She ran them over with a smile. "I'm always impolite," she said, "when

+Mr. Fabian's letter comes, and I think everybody will forgive me." She

+laid the others on the rail beside her and opened the letter she held.

+

+"I'm hoping so much he will set the day for coming."

+

+The smiling expectancy of her face gave way to bewilderment and

+incredulity as she read. No one observed it, for Kathleen had started

+to tell an island adventure.

+

+Her mother's voice broke in upon the tale.

+

+"Kathleen!" she said breathlessly, "I don't understand this letter.

+Father is in trouble of some kind. He is trying to comfort me. He says

+to ask you--"

+

+Mrs. Fabian looked up at Kathleen whose face was transformed while her

+mother spoke. The color left it, the laughing eyes grew startled, and

+she tried to rise.

+

+Phil sprang to his feet, "What do you want, Kathleen?"

+

+"The letters!" she said. "See if there is one for me?"

+

+Edgar, who had been observing how remarkably good was the line of

+Violet's hair at the nape of her neck, brought his thoughts back with

+difficulty to his sister. Kath was looking frightened. What was the

+matter?

+

+Mr. Tremaine leaned forward in his chair and looked with serious

+questioning at Kathleen while she tore open a letter from her

+father. Her brow drew together as she read. Mrs. Fabian regarded her

+helplessly, two sheets of paper blowing in her fingers.

+

+When finally the girl dropped her letter her face had flushed again.

+She rose from her chair with difficulty.

+

+"I must go to father immediately," she said.

+

+Phil was at her side in an instant. "You can't do that," he returned,

+"but you can send me."

+

+Mrs. Fabian's lips were parted. Edgar frowned and looked from one to

+another; then he too sprang to his feet.

+

+"What is this, Kath?" he asked with sudden authority.

+

+His sister regarded him absently. Edgar would suffer, of course, but

+just now, in the crucial moment, he didn't count; and she! Oh, how

+could fate have been so unkind as to hamper her at the only time in

+her life when it would make any difference! A time when she longed for

+wings to carry her to her father's side and let her throw her arms

+around his neck.

+

+She looked at Edgar's frowning, questioning face with curious vagueness.

+

+"Father has lost a great deal of money," she said, "and friends

+as well, because he would not yield to plans which he considered

+dishonorable. He told me before we left that it might come; but he

+had no idea the crisis was right upon him. Oh, I must, I must go to

+father--at once--at once!" The girl limped toward the door.

+

+"You can't go to-day," said Phil decidedly, "but I can. I will go on

+this next boat with Mr. Tremaine. Tell me what--"

+

+"What are you talking about!" It was Edgar who spoke, and his tone

+turned every eye upon him. His nostrils were dilated and his eyes

+looked dark. "Father in trouble! I'm going to him, of course."

+

+He tried to speak quietly, but there was a thrill in his tone that

+echoed in Kathleen's heart. She knew as she looked at the new stern

+expression of the _debonair_ countenance that in that minute the boy

+had become a man.

+

+Violet gazed at him with a swelling heart and swept poor Phil with a

+supercilious glance wholly undeserved, but of which he was unconscious.

+

+Edgar hastened into the house to make his preparations and Kathleen and

+Phil exchanged a look.

+

+"It's all for the best," said Phil in a low tone. "Edgar will find

+himself."

+

+Kathleen's hands were clasped on her breast. Mrs. Fabian regarded

+her beseechingly. "What do you mean?" she cried, her voice breaking

+hysterically. "Money and friends! What do you mean?"

+

+Kathleen sank into the chair beside her. "I mean that father is an

+honest man," she said proudly.

+

+Mr. Tremaine came to Mrs. Fabian's other side. "I was at college with

+your husband," he said. "Henry Fabian was always doing fine things. I

+suspect that this last move, whatever it is, is one of the finest. I

+would trust him before I would myself."

+

+Mrs. Fabian looked from one to the other, tears running down her cheeks.

+

+"I can't have my portrait painted, Phil," she faltered. "We're very

+poor."

+

+Phil knelt down before her and put his arms around her and she rested

+her head on his shoulder and sobbed quietly.

+

+"Perhaps not poor," he said; "but what if you are, Aunt Isabel? Look

+about at this beautiful place with everything to make people happy.

+Health and freedom and honor beside; and Edgar will bring his father

+here and everything will straighten out and we shall make him forget

+his troubles."

+

+"No motor, Phil," came from the sobbing woman. "I can't imagine living

+without a motor."

+

+"Indeed you can. You're going to show Mr. Fabian what a good sport he

+married; and we're all going to cheer him up and make him forget his

+nightmare before fall. You have everything that's real left--unless Mr.

+Fabian breaks down under this strain," added Phil artfully.

+

+He had struck the right note. Mrs. Fabian lifted her head and wiped her

+eyes wildly. "I'm going with Edgar," she cried. "Henry may be ill. I

+shall go."

+

+"No, dear mother," said Kathleen, gently taking her hand. "Let Edgar

+manage this alone. He will wire us at once."

+

+It was nearly time for the boat and Edgar came out of the house with

+his bag. All his machinations of the morning had not succeeded in

+bringing to Violet's eyes the expression that grew there when she

+saw him ready to start on his hard journey. Speechless and unsmiling

+he pressed her hand, then kissed his mother and listened to her

+exhortations. Mr. Tremaine was ready, and together they started toward

+the wharf.

+

+Philip was going to accompany them, but his aunt clung to him.

+

+"Stay with us, Phil," she begged. "You are my son, too."

+

+       *       *       *       *       *

+

+Mr. Fabian, heavy-lidded from a sleepless night, was working at the

+desk in his private office, when the door opened and closed quietly

+and quickly, and he looked up to see Edgar standing beside him. An

+added cloud passed over his face.

+

+The young man saw it and he paid for many a misdemeanor in the pang it

+gave him.

+

+"Father, I've come to see if I can be of any use," he said.

+

+Mr. Fabian pushed his chair back and looked up at his visitor, the deep

+line in his forehead deeper.

+

+"I know I have no experience, and little business sense; but if you'll

+take the trouble to explain the situation to me, I'll try to understand

+as I've never before tried to do anything; and I can at least carry out

+your instructions to the letter."

+

+Mr. Fabian continued to gaze up into the sunburned face and the eyes

+that regarded him with steady purpose.

+

+"I've lost a lot of money for you, my boy," he said. "Quite a half of

+everything I possessed."

+

+"And come out clean," returned the other promptly. "Good for you."

+

+Mr. Fabian kept silence, studying him for another space.

+

+"My son," he said at last, slowly, as if to himself. "I have a son";

+and he held out his hand.

+

+Edgar clasped it in silence. Then he spoke again. "I haven't had any

+breakfast, and of course I couldn't sleep; so my head isn't worth much

+just now. Can you spare time to come out and talk to me while I eat, or

+shall I go alone?"

+

+Mr. Fabian rose and his heavy eyes had brightened. "Neither of us will

+go alone, after this," he said.

+

+

+

+

+CHAPTER XXVIII

+

+A TIDAL WAVE

+

+

+Mr. Fabian's firm stand resulted in a dissolution of his partnership,

+and very soon he was able to repair with Edgar to the island.

+

+The son had found the man-to-man relationship with his father a

+strangely sweet one; and by the time they reached the island--so deeply

+had his father's steadfastness and suffering worked upon Edgar, he

+had no other plan than that of rejuvenating the tired man's strained

+nerves. Therefore, when Mr. Fabian reached the heavenly calm of his

+hill cottage, he found his wife and daughter ready to accompany him on

+a cruise. Mrs. Fabian, lukewarm sailor though she was, was as fully

+prepared as Kathleen; and with scarcely any delay they all started out

+on the yacht. Mr. Fabian urged Phil to join the party, but he could not

+leave his work, and in any case would not add himself to a family party

+at this time. He and Violet stood on the shore and watched the white

+sails swell as they caught the wind.

+

+Edgar had been so absorbed in his father and his plans that she had

+but a flying glimpse of him after his return from New York; but

+it flattered her to observe that he had left his mustache in the

+metropolis.

+

+Philip's assiduous work during the summer resulted in finished pictures

+and numerous sketches, all of which he carried back in the autumn to

+the stable where Pat met him with effusion.

+

+"Sure 'tis a red Injun ye are!" he exclaimed at sight of his lodger's

+mahogany tints.

+

+"Yes, and next summer, Pat, if I'm not a pauper, you're coming up there

+to get a red nose, too," responded Phil.

+

+The first step toward independence had been made. He had finished the

+illustrations for Kathleen's fairy tales, and but a few days after his

+return, Mr. Tremaine came to the studio to welcome him and show him the

+first copy of the book; for it was October before Phil had consented

+to leave his enthralling Villa, being finally shooed out by Eliza who

+insisted that he either come over to them and live in a Christian

+house, or go back to his warm stable.

+

+Phil was eager for news that Mr. Tremaine could give him.

+

+"Aunt Isabel has written me very little," he said. "I know they are

+settled in an apartment near the park, but how are they all, and how do

+they bear the change?"

+

+"Wonderfully well," was the reply. "Mrs. Fabian is the one to feel

+the pinch, of course. Kathleen, not at all. She has too much resource

+within herself to be dependent, and then there are not a few people of

+influence who would find a Van Ruysler if she hid herself on the East

+Side."

+

+It was true, Mrs. Fabian lived too much in reflected glory to suffer

+loneliness, and as the winter went on Kathleen drew her into artistic

+circles where Philip's interests lay, and gradually she gained much

+pride and satisfaction in the understanding of technical terms, and

+learned not to discuss pictures. She even occasionally felt some

+remorse in the remembrance of Mrs. Ballard and was conscious of a wish

+that she might have sympathized with her more.

+

+The startling event in the family, however, was provided by Edgar.

+The great Mazzini was as good as his word, and Edgar Fabian started

+in at once, on his return to New York, as a teacher of the vocal art.

+Successful is too mild a word to be applied to the young tenor.

+Mazzini procured him opportunities to sing in drawing-rooms where he

+had heretofore been the entertained. He sent pupils to him, and they

+advertised him _con amore_. Before the winter was over he became a fad.

+He drew a good salary in a fashionable church. Other musicians sneered

+at him as a _poseur_, and turned their lunch tables into knockers'

+clubs to ease their minds concerning the vagaries of this upstart.

+

+Edgar, with his characteristic self-assurance gave full play to the

+moods of which he had spoken in the past to Violet. Perhaps he was not

+blind to the fact that it was good advertising, but in any case it was

+a temperamental fling which gave him the utmost satisfaction.

+

+He had different sets of hangings made, divan covers, cushions, et

+cetera, easily removed and placed in a box couch, so that his pupils

+sometimes found a purple studio, sometimes a crimson, sometimes one in

+luminous gold. None knew beforehand in which mood the wonderful young

+_maestro_ would be found; and they talked of him with bated breath.

+

+His sister took the liberty, early in his career, of laughing at

+this ebullition of fancy, but she soon found that Edgar took himself

+seriously, and she repressed her smiles; for nothing succeeds like

+success; and Edgar Van Ruysler Fabian was an idol whom it was not her

+place to knock from his pedestal.

+

+Violet Manning meanwhile was industriously proceeding with her own

+teaching. As some of it lay in fashionable schools, she heard echoes

+of Edgar's popularity, and she and her housemates often attended the

+church where he sang. He came to their apartment occasionally and

+relaxed from the strain of living up to the ideal of his admirers whom

+he terrorized grandly at moments, after the most approved Mazzini

+methods.

+

+Once he had the three bachelor maids at a chafing-dish supper at his

+studio. He was in a red mood that night, and the crimson hangings

+reminded Violet of the glowing heart which always lay on her

+dressing-table.

+

+The function was an informal and jolly one. One of the men present

+was Edgar's accompanist, and he had played for Violet to dance. It

+was a triumphant occasion for the girl. She looked charming in a thin

+iridescent gown which changed with the blues and greens of the sea

+while she floated and pirouetted, as light and tireless as thistledown.

+Edgar's eyes were bright with pride in her and she was wildly

+applauded, sharing the honors of the evening with him.

+

+Edgar sang the better for the inspiration of her, and when at her

+request he began, "O moon of my delight," she closed her eyes, shutting

+out the gay company and the diffused rosy light. Again she saw him

+stretched on the grass in the silvery radiance of a still, still night.

+

+"I think Mr. Fabian is in love with Violet," said Regina afterward,

+privately, to Roxana.

+

+"I think he is in love with himself," returned Roxana; "and I take off

+my hat to Violet, for I believe she knows it, too. I'm afraid if I were

+her age and he wanted me, I'd marry him even if I knew he'd beat me all

+the time he wasn't singing."

+

+Her housemates noticed that Violet never spoke of Edgar, and they drew

+their conclusions. She had a sketch of his head done by Phil in an

+idle moment, pinned up on her wall. That and the bonbon box were the

+only evidences of the acquaintance save those occasional calls with

+which Edgar favored the apartment. The fact that he came at all was

+important, for his engagements were legion.

+

+Philip carried himself much as he had done the winter before. Through

+the Fabians and Mr. Tremaine he began to have invitations, but he

+declined them. Mr. Tremaine bought the painting of the wave which he

+had seen at the island, and one of his friends bought another of Phil's

+marines.

+

+The artist kept on with his work in the life class at the Academy.

+Edgar sometimes tried to get him for a festivity at the studio, but, as

+he told his sister in disgust, one might as well try to get the Shah of

+Persia.

+

+Every Sunday evening Phil spent at the Fabians' but never since he

+had returned to town had he made opportunity to resume a disturbing

+intimacy with Kathleen. Her book was having a fairly good sale, and

+the girl was at work upon another. Their lives lay apart mainly except

+on the Sunday evenings when Mr. Fabian, once again adjusted to his

+business life, claimed the guest far more than any of the others.

+

+Edgar, finding that the propinquity of Phil and Violet during his

+absence in the summer had not produced any results, altered his

+expectations of trouble from that quarter. He made it a point to spend

+his Sunday evenings with the family, in order, as his mother said, to

+keep up the acquaintance; and on one of these evenings, toward spring,

+he brought Violet Manning to supper.

+

+The busy young teacher's friendship with Kathleen had not progressed.

+The latter firmly believed that any romantic notions which such a girl

+might conceive for Edgar would bring her to grief in the end; and his

+present amazing popularity but augmented that conviction; so the girls

+had exchanged one call only during the season.

+

+Violet responded to Mrs. Fabian's invitation for this Sunday and Edgar

+regarded her critically throughout the evening.

+

+Never had he felt himself such authority on girls as now. They crowded

+his studio. Fashionable girls, wealthy girls, pretty girls, plain

+girls, clever ones, dull ones, aggressive, and shy girls; and he had

+frequently detected himself comparing the more interesting with Violet.

+Her spirit, her poise, her independence, her compact, graceful, healthy

+body, always stood the test.

+

+As of old, to-night she seemed more interested in Phil than in himself.

+Her spontaneous joy over the news that during the past week he had sold

+a third picture, actually roused again Edgar's old train of thought.

+How did he know what had occurred during the summer, between the

+farmhouse and the Villa? Were these two only waiting, perhaps, until

+Phil began to find a sale for his pictures?

+

+Poor little Violet was not intriguing. She found herself embarrassed

+in Edgar's family circle, and she was defending herself in the only

+way she knew. It seemed as if it must be legible on her face that she

+out-adored the adoration of all the singer's pupils; and it was a

+relief to her when she and the object were at last in a taxicab on the

+way home. The cover of the darkness, and the sober return to thoughts

+of to-morrow's duties, made her heave an inaudible sigh; but it is the

+unexpected that always happens.

+

+Edgar's teeth were tightly closed and every street-lamp they passed

+showed him gazing at his companion.

+

+"I wonder," he said at last,--"I wonder, Violet, why I've never been

+able to make you like me better. Other--other people like me."

+

+"Probably that's the reason," returned the girl lightly. "Some one must

+help strike an average."

+

+She did not say it easily; for she was obliged to swallow between

+sentences; but she said it pretty well, and applauded herself.

+

+"You see I love you, Violet," he went on, as simply as the most

+non-temperamental swain could have spoken.

+

+She shrank into her corner, and when he tried to take her hands she

+crossed them quickly on her breast.

+

+"Which mood is this?" she asked, a tumultuous beating under the crossed

+hands.

+

+"You don't believe me," said Edgar quietly. "It's true, Violet. I want

+you to marry me. You've made me believe once or twice--and yet the

+next moment I always feel your utter indifference. I'm afraid you're a

+flirt."

+

+"I know you are!" responded the girl, her fingers whitening against her

+fluttering heart. "I'm afraid of you, Edgar."

+

+Happiness leaped into his eyes and he gathered her hands into his in

+spite of her.

+

+"Have you ever seen 'The Concert'?" she asked breathlessly.

+

+"Oh, that's what you mean!" exclaimed Edgar triumphantly.

+

+"You shouldn't marry," said Violet. "You are like a matinée idol.

+You will lose your capital when you marry, unless you are like that

+selfish man. I warn you, I am not like that wonderful wife. I couldn't

+bear it."

+

+"You've thought about it, then," said Edgar joyously.

+

+"Yes, oh, yes," replied Violet, her defences down and tears welling

+through her half-closed lids. "I'm sure I should be miserable."

+

+"Then you love me." Edgar drew her out of her corner into his arms.

+"Violet, I promise you--"

+

+"Dear," she interrupted him, "I am just as much afraid of myself as

+of you. No convention would hold me. The minute I found you were not

+honest with me--that you concealed from me--I should go. You would look

+about, and I shouldn't be there."

+

+Edgar held her close in ecstatic possession.

+

+"And that's why I'll be honest with you, Violet. I swear it. If we're

+both honest, what can--"

+

+The taxi-cab driver threw open the door.

+

+       *       *       *       *       *

+

+Once again the daisy-snow drifted over the hills on Brewster's Island;

+and Eliza sat in the doorway of the Villa Chantecler watching Phil

+adjust his possessions.

+

+"When are the Fabians coming?" she asked.

+

+"Next week."

+

+"Are you and Miss Kathleen goin' to do another book this year?"

+

+"I hope so. She's going to let me see her story when she comes. She has

+written her first novel."

+

+Eliza's eyes studied him sharply during a silence.

+

+"Is she engaged yet?" she asked.

+

+"Not that I know of."

+

+"I thought you two were pretty thick one time there last summer."

+

+"It's not for the likes o' me to be thick with the likes o' her,"

+replied Phil, busy setting up an easel.

+

+"I'd like to know why not," retorted Eliza, who had read between

+the lines of Phil's letters during the winter; and illustrated her

+imaginings with looks and actions remembered from the season before.

+"Think of the pictures you've sold this winter. Look how quick you've

+begun your success. Has Kathleen many beaux?"

+

+"She has worshippers," returned Phil, with a slight smile; "and several

+of them come much nearer to her than I can."

+

+"You can if you want to," said Eliza bluntly; "you're a great fool if

+you don't."

+

+Philip turned and looked at the speaker in surprise. Her words were so

+exactly opposite to the training he gave himself night and morning.

+

+"'Tain't as if her father was so rich any more. Nobody could say you

+was after money, and," Eliza's voice lost its hardness, "your--your

+Aunt Mary left me her ring you remember."

+

+Phil smiled at her openly now, then he went on with his work.

+

+"You're a loyal soul, Eliza, and you always yearn to give me everything

+I want; but Miss Fabian will be married long before I'm able to ask any

+woman to trust herself to me."

+

+Eliza gave him a fierce nod and drew down the corners of her mouth.

+

+"_I--don't--believe it!_" she said, so significantly that Phil flushed

+and looked at her again.

+

+"_I've_ got eyes if you haven't," she added; and with this Parthian

+shot she rose and went back to the house.

+

+Philip went on with his work, but the flush stayed, and there was a

+line between his shining eyes.

+

+At this juncture Pat came up from the wharf with a heavy package. The

+family had returned to the house in Gramercy Park, and he and Phil had

+vacated the stable this spring.

+

+"Sure the Queen o' Sheby hersilf stepped off the boat," he announced as

+he came into the Villa.

+

+"My Aunt come!" exclaimed Phil, turning around quickly. "I wonder what

+changed their plan. Was she alone?"

+

+"She was not, thin," declared the Irishman proudly. "D'ye think the

+Princess didn't come straight up and hold out her pretty hand with a

+smile swate enough to beckon the bees? 'How d'ye do, Pat,' says she.

+''Tis fine ye're to be here this summer,' says she. 'We shall call upon

+you for a lot o' help,' she says."

+

+Philip stood still in indecision. No, he wouldn't hurry over. They knew

+he was not expecting the arrival; and he fell to business again.

+

+The Irishman looked about him, on pictures and sketches.

+

+"Sure 'tis a power o' work ye've done, me bye," he said. "I feel I shud

+have on a bathin' suit to look at 'em."

+

+Eliza from her window saw Captain James drive up to the boulder cottage

+and saw the ladies dismount, and with them the maid of all work with

+whom they intended this year to live the simple life. Pat would be a

+valuable auxiliary.

+

+It was evening before Phil went across the field to call. A brilliant

+planet showed a pale wake of light across the water, forerunner of the

+moon which was soon to rise.

+

+"So serene, so soft, is she," thought Phil, in whose head Eliza's words

+still rang, "and so remote," he added. "So she shines on me, and on

+all, alike. Eliza hasn't seen the others, so she thinks me selected";

+and he pressed down the stopper which a long time ago he fitted to

+repress disturbing emotions; for in the last hours they had effervesced

+threateningly around its rough edges.

+

+Mrs. Fabian received him effusively and Kathleen with the calm

+directness to which he had adjusted himself.

+

+"Your portrait comes off this summer, Aunt Isabel," he said.

+

+"I can't afford it, my dear," she answered.

+

+Phil shook his head. "If I painted a portrait of every Fabian on earth,

+would it pay my debt to you?" he asked. "And anyway I have the finest

+collection of Sidneys in the country; but there isn't a portrait among

+them."

+

+"Do yourself sometime, Phil, will you?" suggested Kathleen.

+

+"Yes, and you," he replied. "I want to do a picture of you on my

+terrace. Pat and I have brought up the bay to-day; and I want to begin

+it immediately."

+

+"I know," laughed Kathleen. "You want to do both mother and me before

+our complexions desert us."

+

+"I'll take you alternate days if you'll let me. I'd like you to-morrow,

+for my background is just as I want it." He turned to Mrs. Fabian.

+"Will you lend me your daughter to-morrow? I have the finest of Irish

+terriers for a watch-dog, you know."

+

+Mrs. Fabian shrugged her shoulders. "I certainly shan't waste my time

+chaperoning you two cousins at this late day," she answered.

+

+On the afternoon following Eliza met Kathleen coming across the field.

+She looked at her in surprise, for instead of khaki the girl was

+wearing a filmy white gown whose length was lifted from the clover and

+buttercups, and carried over her arm.

+

+Eliza looked admiringly at the lithe figure, and the deep eyes that

+beamed kindly upon her.

+

+"No wonder you are startled, Eliza; I am going to sit for my

+portrait," she said, clasping Miss Brewster's hard hand.

+

+"You look as if you was ready for your wedding," returned Eliza.

+

+"I should like it to be here if I ever have one," said Kathleen; and

+Eliza watched the rose-color spread from the girl's cheek to her brow,

+while the young eyes kept their steady, kind regard; then she inquired

+of Eliza as to the winter.

+

+"I do believe she kind o' likes me for his sake," thought Eliza,

+standing still to look after the slender, graceful figure when Kathleen

+moved on amid the daisies and clover.

+

+"She's a flower herself. That's what she is, and Mr. Philip didn't go

+as red as a beet for nothin' when I spoke yesterday. He thinks she's

+above him. There ain't anybody above him!"

+

+Whatever was the errand that had brought Eliza into the field this

+afternoon she abandoned it, and turned slowly back toward the

+farmhouse, glancing often at the Villa through whose door the slender

+white figure had disappeared.

+

+"I wish there was somethin' I could do to help 'em," she thought. "That

+pretty critter can't do a thing against Mr. Philip's determination if

+he's set out. I know _him_."

+

+"Why was Kathleen so exquisite?" asked Mrs. Wright as Eliza came in.

+

+"Settin' for her portrait," answered Eliza absently. "Said she was too

+dressed up to come and see you, but would come to-morrow."

+

+"She was a picture already, coming bareheaded through that flowery

+field," said Mrs. Wright.

+

+Eliza did not respond. She disappeared into her own room and closed the

+door. Then she unlocked her trunk and took from its depths a package

+which she untied, disclosing a fine camel's-hair shawl. She unfolded it

+with loving fingers, and regarded it. "A good enough weddin' present

+even for her," she muttered.

+

+Then she reached into another corner and took out a tin box which she

+unlocked and drew forth a tiny velvet case, rubbed and worn. When she

+opened this, tears rushed to her eyes and she lifted it to her lips.

+"Nothin' could make you so happy, my dear one," she murmured brokenly.

+"Nothin'! Nothin'!"

+

+       *       *       *       *       *

+

+Half an hour later Eliza entered the Villa. Pat was doing some scraping

+of palette knives in the kitchen. She looked timidly out on the

+terrace. A lovely living picture met her eyes. Kathleen was sitting on

+the white railing, her filmy gown falling in folds at her feet. Behind

+her rose the bay-crowned pillar casting shadows on the red-glints of

+her hair.

+

+"Mr. Philip, please excuse me," said Eliza humbly; "but could you spare

+Pat to go on an errand for us?"

+

+"Yes, yes," replied Phil absently, working at a white heat.

+

+Eliza withdrew with quiet celerity. The errand she required was to be

+performed at a distance, and she was so nervous while she gave Pat

+directions that he grinned at her.

+

+"Ye're thinkin' about _thim_!" he said, jerking his thumb over his

+shoulder in the direction of the terrace.

+

+Eliza's eyes widened. "Why in the world should I think about them?" she

+asked, all the time tolling Pat away toward the farmhouse.

+

+"I cud look at 'em from now till Christmas sittin' there," he

+responded. "I don't blame ye."

+

+       *       *       *       *       *

+

+"I haven't asked you about the turtle doves," said Phil, sketching in

+Kathleen's hands.

+

+"They believe themselves the happiest people in the world, and perhaps

+they are. Violet has really convinced me that she is the right girl for

+Edgar. A meek one would have little chance."

+

+"They're coming up here, I suppose."

+

+"Oh, yes. Edgar can't get his vacation from the church quite yet, and

+she'll not come till he can."

+

+"Of course not," replied Phil simply. "How can one voluntarily live

+without the other a day after the great discovery is made?"

+

+Kathleen made no answer to this. The lump that rose in her throat was

+rebellious; and the artist, looking up suddenly, met fire in the depths

+of her dark eyes. The lids dropped. His hand grew suddenly unsteady.

+

+"Tell me when you're tired, Kathleen," he said. "We have the summer."

+He smiled as he spoke; but it was a rigid sort of smile.

+

+The field sown thickly with the late wild-flowers of the island, and

+stretching to a sparkling sea, the rustling orchard leaves, and the

+crown of bay behind the queenly young head, the soft white figure with

+the loosely dropped hands! It was no time or place for Kathleen to look

+at him like that.

+

+"I'm tired now, I believe," she said, quietly. "Will it be enough for

+to-day?"

+

+"At least until you're rested. Come in and let me show you a sketch I

+did yesterday."

+

+She rose and lifted her white shoulders with a movement of weariness,

+then they moved inside the room.

+

+A vase of daisies stood on the table. "I believe," said Phil, "I should

+have asked you to wear daisies in your hair."

+

+They were standing by the table and he took three of the long stems and

+breaking them to convenient length made a movement toward her head.

+Then he shrank. "Put them in, will you?" he asked.

+

+The least smile touched her lips, and her hands hung down.

+

+"You know best what you want," she replied and inclined her regal head

+toward him.

+

+The golden radiance streamed through the small-paned windows and

+reddened her hair.

+

+Phil's fingers trembled as they tucked the flower stems under the soft

+folds. He dropped his eyes from the lustrous tints, and they caught a

+sudden elusive spark of violet, then green that shone on the table. He

+looked closer, and pointed.

+

+"Did you leave your ring there?" he asked.

+

+Kathleen looked. A diamond ring was shining beneath the tall

+candlestick.

+

+She shook her daisy-crowned head.

+

+"It's not mine," she said, wondering. "I never saw it."

+

+"Nor I." Phil's breath came faster. "This is an enchanted place,

+Kathleen. The very spirit of the sea must have pitied me in my struggle

+and brought this ring." The ring! He looked at it, dazed for another

+moment, then like a flash he remembered Eliza's interruption, and his

+illumined eyes met Kathleen's, grave and wondering.

+

+"I adore you, my darling. I give up the fight." He kept his eyes on

+hers as he picked up the quaint little jewel and pressed it to his lips.

+

+Kathleen smiled at him, then her eyes veiled and dropped.

+

+He lifted her hand and slowly put the ring on her finger; for the inner

+sanctuary of her heart had flown open, and he had seen within.

+

+Quickly he clasped her close in his arms. She clung to him, and the

+golden radiance enveloped them.

+

+

+THE END

+

+

+       *       *       *       *       *

+

+Transcriber's Notes:

+

+Italic text is denoted by _underscores_.

+

+Minor punctuation and printer errors repaired.

+

+Every effort has been made to replicate this text as faithfully

+as possible, including obsolete and variant spellings and other

+inconsistencies.

+

+

+

+

+

+End of the Project Gutenberg EBook of The Inner Flame, by Clara Louise Burnham

+

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+The Project Gutenberg EBook of The Inner Flame, by Clara Louise Burnham

+

+This eBook is for the use of anyone anywhere in the United States and most

+other parts of the world 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.  If you are not located in the United States, you'll have

+to check the laws of the country where you are located before using this ebook.

+

+Title: The Inner Flame

+

+Author: Clara Louise Burnham

+

+Release Date: June 5, 2016 [EBook #52240]

+

+Language: English

+

+Character set encoding: ISO-8859-1

+

+*** START OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK THE INNER FLAME ***

+

+

+

+

+Produced by Christopher Wright and the Online Distributed

+Proofreading Team at http://www.pgdp.net (This file was

+produced from images generously made available by The

+Internet Archive)

+

+

+

+

+

+

+</pre>

+

+

+

+<div class="figcenter">

+  <img src="images/i002.jpg" alt="" />

+  <p class="caption">THE CALL</p>

+</div>

+

+

+<h1 class="mt4">The Inner Flame</h1>

+

+<p class="ph2">A Novel<br />

+by<br />

+Clara Louise Burnham</p>

+

+<div class="figcenter">

+  <img src="images/i003.jpg" alt="" />

+</div>

+

+<p class="mb4 ph3">NEW YORK<br />

+GROSSET &amp; DUNLAP<br />

+PUBLISHERS</p>

+

+

+

+

+<p class="front-matter ph3">COPYRIGHT, 1912, BY CLARA LOUISE BURNHAM<br />

+

+ALL RIGHTS RESERVED</p>

+

+

+

+

+<div class="chapter">

+  <h2>Contents</h2>

+</div>

+

+<table class="toc" summary="Contents">

+<tr>

+  <td class="rom">I.</td>

+  <td class="cht"><span class="smcap">A November Night</span></td>

+  <td class="pag"><a href="#Page_1">1</a></td>

+</tr><tr>

+  <td class="rom">II.</td>

+  <td class="cht"><span class="smcap">Severed Companionship</span></td>

+  <td class="pag"><a href="#Page_25">25</a></td>

+

+</tr><tr>

+  <td class="rom">III.</td>

+  <td class="cht"><span class="smcap">Mrs. Fabian's Visit</span></td>

+  <td class="pag"><a href="#Page_41">41</a></td>

+

+</tr><tr>

+  <td class="rom">IV.</td>

+  <td class="cht"><span class="smcap">Philip Sidney</span></td>

+  <td class="pag"><a href="#Page_55">55</a></td>

+

+</tr><tr>

+  <td class="rom">V.</td>

+  <td class="cht"><span class="smcap">Eliza's Invitation</span></td>

+  <td class="pag"><a href="#Page_79">79</a></td>

+

+</tr><tr>

+  <td class="rom">VI.</td>

+  <td class="cht"><span class="smcap">Brother and Sister</span></td>

+  <td class="pag"><a href="#Page_95">95</a></td>

+

+</tr><tr>

+  <td class="rom">VII.</td>

+  <td class="cht"><span class="smcap">The Flitting</span></td>

+  <td class="pag"><a href="#Page_114">114</a></td>

+

+</tr><tr>

+  <td class="rom">VIII.</td>

+  <td class="cht"><span class="smcap">An Interrupted Tea</span></td>

+  <td class="pag"><a href="#Page_131">131</a></td>

+

+</tr><tr>

+  <td class="rom">IX.</td>

+  <td class="cht"><span class="smcap">Heirlooms</span></td>

+  <td class="pag"><a href="#Page_157">157</a></td>

+

+</tr><tr>

+  <td class="rom">X.</td>

+  <td class="cht"><span class="smcap">The Arrival</span></td>

+  <td class="pag"><a href="#Page_176">176</a></td>

+

+</tr><tr>

+  <td class="rom">XI.</td>

+  <td class="cht"><span class="smcap">Mrs. Fabian's Gifts</span></td>

+  <td class="pag"><a href="#Page_194">194</a></td>

+

+</tr><tr>

+  <td class="rom">XII.</td>

+  <td class="cht"><span class="smcap">Mrs. Fabian's Dinner List</span></td>

+  <td class="pag"><a href="#Page_209">209</a></td>

+

+</tr><tr>

+  <td class="rom">XIII.</td>

+  <td class="cht"><span class="smcap">Christmas</span></td>

+  <td class="pag"><a href="#Page_222">222</a></td>

+

+</tr><tr>

+  <td class="rom">XIV.</td>

+  <td class="cht"><span class="smcap">Spring</span></td>

+  <td class="pag"><a href="#Page_242">242</a></td>

+

+</tr><tr>

+  <td class="rom">XV.</td>

+  <td class="cht"><span class="smcap">June</span></td>

+  <td class="pag"><a href="#Page_258">258</a></td>

+

+</tr><tr>

+  <td class="rom">XVI.</td>

+  <td class="cht"><span class="smcap">The Peacemaker</span></td>

+  <td class="pag"><a href="#Page_276">276</a></td>

+

+</tr><tr>

+  <td class="rom">XVII.</td>

+  <td class="cht"><span class="smcap">Mrs. Fabian's Scheme</span></td>

+  <td class="pag"><a href="#Page_296">296</a></td>

+

+</tr><tr>

+  <td class="rom">XVIII.</td>

+  <td class="cht"><span class="smcap">Casco Bay</span></td>

+  <td class="pag"><a href="#Page_312">312</a></td>

+

+</tr><tr>

+  <td class="rom">XIX.</td>

+  <td class="cht"><span class="smcap">Flashes of Blue</span></td>

+  <td class="pag"><a href="#Page_328">328</a></td>

+

+</tr><tr>

+  <td class="rom">XX.</td>

+  <td class="cht"><span class="smcap">Eliza Surrenders</span></td>

+  <td class="pag"><a href="#Page_347">347</a></td>

+

+</tr><tr>

+  <td class="rom">XXI.</td>

+  <td class="cht"><span class="smcap">The Singer</span></td>

+  <td class="pag"><a href="#Page_366">366</a></td>

+

+</tr><tr>

+  <td class="rom">XXII.</td>

+  <td class="cht"><span class="smcap">The New Studio</span></td>

+  <td class="pag"><a href="#Page_383">383</a></td>

+

+</tr><tr>

+  <td class="rom">XXIII.</td>

+  <td class="cht"><span class="smcap">Philip's Letter</span></td>

+  <td class="pag"><a href="#Page_400">400</a></td>

+

+</tr><tr>

+  <td class="rom">XXIV.</td>

+  <td class="cht"><span class="smcap">Philip Entertains</span></td>

+  <td class="pag"><a href="#Page_405">405</a></td>

+

+</tr><tr>

+  <td class="rom">XXV.</td>

+  <td class="cht"><span class="smcap">By Moonlight</span></td>

+  <td class="pag"><a href="#Page_429">429</a></td>

+

+</tr><tr>

+  <td class="rom">XXVI.</td>

+  <td class="cht"><span class="smcap">Tides</span></td>

+  <td class="pag"><a href="#Page_450">450</a></td>

+

+</tr><tr>

+  <td class="rom">XXVII.</td>

+  <td class="cht"><span class="smcap">The Son</span></td>

+  <td class="pag"><a href="#Page_466">466</a></td>

+

+</tr><tr>

+  <td class="rom">XXVIII.</td>

+  <td class="cht"><span class="smcap">A Tidal Wave</span></td>

+  <td class="pag"><a href="#Page_480">480</a></td>

+</tr>

+</table>

+

+

+

+<p class="half-title">The Inner Flame</p>

+

+

+<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_1" id="Page_1">[1]</a></span></p>

+

+

+

+<div class="chapter">

+<p class="ph1">The Inner Flame</p>

+

+<h2 class="nobreak">CHAPTER I</h2>

+</div>

+

+<p class="ph3">A NOVEMBER NIGHT</p>

+

+

+<p>Soft snowflakes whirled around the lonely

+mountain cabin under a November sky. The

+wind that had rushed up the valley sighing and

+groaning between the wooded walls, now

+roared its wild delight in the freedom of the

+heights. The twilight was deepening fast. Two

+women were alone in the cabin. The one who

+was at home stooped and put another log on the

+blazing fire. The other could not have stooped,

+no matter how willing her spirit, so straitly and

+fashionably was her ample figure bound by artful

+bone and steel.</p>

+

+<p>"Mercy, Mary!" she ejaculated, standing

+stock still in the middle of the room, fixed there

+by a triumphant shriek of the rioting wind. "I

+never had the least desire to go up in an aeroplane.

+Are you well anchored here?"</p>

+

+<p>"Like a lichen on a rock," returned Mary<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_2" id="Page_2">[2]</a></span>

+Sidney, smiling. "Take off your hat, Isabel,

+and be comfy."</p>

+

+<p>"Do you think we <em>must</em> stay all night?" demurred

+the visitor. "You know I love you,

+Mary, and if that wind would just let us hear

+ourselves think, I wouldn't ask anything better

+than an evening's chat with you alone."</p>

+

+<p>"You wouldn't as it is," returned Mrs. Sidney

+soothingly, approaching her cousin and

+unpinning the veil which Mrs. Fabian had not

+raised. The visitor clung to her wraps with the

+feeling that an entire readiness to flee back to

+the haunts of men would aid her to depart.

+Mary Sidney's calm amused smile carried some

+reassurance. It flickered across her face as the

+firelight flickered across the dark rafters above.</p>

+

+<p>"I <em>told</em> Henry I thought the sky looked

+threatening before we left town," declared the

+guest while she submitted to the gentle touch,

+"but nothing would do but that he should visit

+the mine this very afternoon. Isn't this fearful,

+Mary?" as a renewed gust shook the firelit

+rafters until they creaked heavily.</p>

+

+<p>"Oh, no, this sounds a great deal worse than

+it is," was the response.</p>

+

+<p>"You're comforting me, I know you are";

+and Mrs. Fabian, denuded of her correct hat,<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_3" id="Page_3">[3]</a></span>

+permitted herself to take the offered chair by

+the fire. "I hope, though, that you have a kennel

+of St. Bernard dogs in the back yard. I <em>should</em>

+like to see Henry again, bad as he is!"</p>

+

+<p>Mrs. Sidney took the other chair and rolled

+a blazing log to a better position.</p>

+

+<p>"You'll see the men coming along in a little

+while&mdash;when they grow hungry," she returned

+placidly.</p>

+

+<p>"And how in the world do you get servants

+up here?" demanded the other.</p>

+

+<p>"We don't. We could get a Chinaman, but if

+we had him we'd have to amuse him, there's no

+one else for him to talk to, so we go without."</p>

+

+<p>"Horrors!" ejaculated Mrs. Fabian with solemn

+repugnance. "And you live here alone!"</p>

+

+<p>The hostess laughed at her tone. "Not

+enough of the year to dislike it. One learns a lot

+of things in these hills&mdash;bidding farewell to

+time, for instance. You see a man with a gun

+tramping through the valley and you rush to

+the door, and cry out, 'Hey, there, you with

+the gun, what day is this?' and the man

+turns and shouts back, 'You can't prove it by

+me!'"</p>

+

+<p>Mrs. Sidney laughed again and her cousin

+shuddered.</p>

+

+<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_4" id="Page_4">[4]</a></span></p>

+

+<p>"Thank God for civilization!" ejaculated

+the latter devoutly; then, as the window-glass

+sucked in and out with a cracking sound, "Give

+me my hat, Mary," she said, sitting up. "If

+we're going down the mountain-side, let's go

+decently and in order."</p>

+

+<p>"For shame, you Maine woman!" was the

+laughing rejoinder. "Your sea-captains would

+call this 'a breeze o' wind!' That's all. That's

+another thing one becomes acquainted with up

+here: the wind. I didn't know anything about it

+when I came. You should be here some nights

+if you call this a storm! I used to set my dish-pans

+out at the door; but when a few had

+whirled down the mountain-side into the valley,

+I learned caution. One can't go around the

+corner here and buy a dish-pan."</p>

+

+<p>"Mary," Mrs. Fabian eyed her with bewildered

+admiration, "you're wonderful! You

+didn't used to be wonderful," she added in an

+argumentative tone. "Once you'd have made

+just as much fuss about this as I would. You

+remember&mdash;if you try, you'll remember perfectly&mdash;that

+I warned you, more than twenty-five

+years ago, not to marry a mining engineer.

+I told you then it was just as bad as marrying

+an army officer. There would be no repose about<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_5" id="Page_5">[5]</a></span>

+it, and no comfort. You see I was right. Here

+we are, to all intents and purposes, in a shrieking

+balloon, and you call it home!" The speaker

+kept a watchful eye on the rattling casement

+and drew herself up with renewed tension at

+each wind blast, but nevertheless she talked

+on.</p>

+

+<p>"With it all you haven't as many lines in

+your face as I have, and your hair is as brown as

+ever. Mine would be white if I lived here instead

+of in New York. And the calmness of

+your eyes, and your smile! Tell me, Mary, tell

+me now honestly,&mdash;I shall sympathize with you,&mdash;<em>is</em>

+it the calmness of despair?"</p>

+

+<p>Mary Sidney did not smile. She looked into

+the depths of the fire and her guest wondered

+what memories were unfolding themselves to

+her rapt vision.</p>

+

+<p>"No," she answered simply at last, "such

+calmness as I possess is not of despair, but of&mdash;faith."

+The speaker paused before the utterance

+of the last word as if hesitating for the one

+which should best express her meaning.</p>

+

+<p>"Do you mean something religious?" asked

+Mrs. Fabian stiffly.</p>

+

+<p>The stiffness was not disapproval. It was

+owing to the divided attention she was bestow<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_6" id="Page_6">[6]</a></span>ing

+upon the storm, lest if she took her mind off

+the wind it might seize the advantage and hurl

+the cabin from its moorings.</p>

+

+<p>"I should think a person would <em>have</em> to be

+religious here," she went on. "You must be

+reduced&mdash;simply <em>reduced</em> to trusting in Providence!"</p>

+

+<p>Mary Sidney smiled at the fire. "I didn't

+have a trusting disposition. I didn't have even

+a happy disposition, as you evidently remember."</p>

+

+<p>"Well," returned Isabel, "it wasn't a bad

+one: I didn't imply anything like that; but you

+were one of the spoiled-beauty sort of girls, not

+a bit cut out for hardship," the speaker looked

+judicially at the once familiar face, softened

+from its old brilliancy. "What an advantage it

+is to have beautiful eyes!" she added bluntly.

+"They don't desert you when other things go;&mdash;not

+that it matters a bit what sort of eyes a

+woman has, living the life you have."</p>

+

+<p>"Oh, Allan thinks it does," returned Mary in

+her restful manner.</p>

+

+<p>"Does he appreciate you?" Mrs. Fabian

+asked the question almost angrily.</p>

+

+<p>Mrs. Sidney smiled. "We don't talk much

+about that, but we're better companions, hap<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_7" id="Page_7">[7]</a></span>pier,

+dearer, than we were twenty-five years

+ago."</p>

+

+<p>Her cousin gazed curiously. "Then it did

+turn out all right. You've written so little

+to your friends. How could your relatives tell?"</p>

+

+<p>"You see, now, why," returned the other.

+"There's not much letter-material here, and

+even when we're living in town, all our friends

+and our pursuits are so foreign to the people at

+home. Little by little one gets out of the way of

+writing."</p>

+

+<p>"Don't you ever long for Fifth Avenue?"

+asked Mrs. Fabian suddenly, her cousin's exile

+impressing her more and more as utter forlornity.</p>

+

+<p>"Oh, no, not for many years."</p>

+

+<p>"You never could have kept your figure there

+as you have here," admitted the other in a spirit

+of justice. "I must say that," and the speaker

+composed her own rigid armor into a less uncomfortable

+position.</p>

+

+<p>"Do your own housework, Isabel," advised

+the hostess with a smile.</p>

+

+<p>"Heavens! it is too late to talk to me about

+that. I've enough to do without housework, I

+should hope. You've no idea how much worse

+things have grown in twenty-five years, Mary.<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_8" id="Page_8">[8]</a></span>

+A woman has so much on her mind now that

+nothing but regular massage from the crown

+of her head to her heels will offset it. The

+modistes and milliners are in a conspiracy to

+change styles so often that it takes active

+thought to keep abreast of them. Then you no

+sooner settle down really to learn Bridge, for

+instance, and feel that you can hold your own,

+than everybody begins playing Auction! And

+to know what people are talking about at luncheons

+you must see plays, and skim through

+books, reading at least enough so you can

+express an opinion; not that anybody listens.

+They all talk at once, their one and only object

+seems to be to get their own ideas out of their

+systems. I was glad to send Kathleen off to

+school. It does seem as if the girls had to go

+to college to escape as great a rush as we grownups

+live in. Then when they come back, having

+had another environment for four years, they

+adjust themselves to their own homes with such

+a sense of superiority that it makes you <em>tired</em>;

+that's what it does, Mary, <em>tired</em>. I've had a

+taste of it this summer. Kathleen has another

+year to go, but already she is perfectly changed.

+She cares no more for my advice, I assure you,

+than if I had just come down from Mars and<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_9" id="Page_9">[9]</a></span>

+had no judgment as to the things of this world.

+She's well-bred, of course,&mdash;I hope no daughter

+of mine could be less than well-bred,&mdash;but when

+I give her directions, or try to guide her in any

+way, there's a twinkle in her eye that I resent,

+Mary, I resent it distinctly. So there you are!"

+Mrs. Fabian gestured with a perfectly kept

+hand whereon a blazing gem flashed in the firelight.

+"There we are between Scylla and Charybdis.

+We either have to send our girls to college

+and let the little upstarts think they've outgrown

+us, or else have them rushed to death at

+home, keep them up on tonics, and let them

+sleep till noon!"</p>

+

+<p>With this dismal peroration Mrs. Fabian sat

+as far back in her chair as disciplined adipose

+would permit, and shuddered again at the wind.</p>

+

+<p>"Is a son an easier proposition then, in that

+madding crowd of yours?"</p>

+

+<p>"A boy does seem to have his life more

+plainly mapped out than a girl. Edgar is in his

+father's office." The speaker sighed unconsciously.

+"What is your boy like, Mary?"</p>

+

+<p>Mrs. Sidney kept silence for a thoughtful

+moment before answering.</p>

+

+<p>"He is like Pegasus harnessed to a coal-wagon,"

+she said at last slowly.</p>

+

+<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_10" id="Page_10">[10]</a></span></p>

+

+<p>"How very extraordinary. What do you

+mean?"</p>

+

+<p>Instead of replying, Mrs. Sidney went to a

+table in the far corner of the cabin and brought

+therefrom a portfolio which she opened on the

+chair beside her guest.</p>

+

+<p>A mass of sketches was disclosed,&mdash;charcoal,

+water-color, oil. Mrs. Sidney lifted one, and

+held it before the other's eyes.</p>

+

+<p>Mrs. Fabian raised her lorgnette.</p>

+

+<p>"Why, it's you, Mary; and it's capital!"

+she ejaculated.</p>

+

+<p>Another and another sheet was offered for her

+inspection.</p>

+

+<p>"Why, they're all of you. The artist must be

+in love with you."</p>

+

+<p>Mary Sidney gave her a slight smile. "I hope

+so, a little, but it was Hobson's choice when it

+came to models. Phil seldom could get any one

+beside me. Here's one of his father. He had to

+do it slyly behind a newspaper, for Allan is

+rather impatient of Phil's tendency."</p>

+

+<p>"So that is what your boy is at! It's real

+talent, isn't it?"</p>

+

+<p>"Yes, it is," returned the mother with quiet

+conviction.</p>

+

+<p>"And where is he studying?"</p>

+

+<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_11" id="Page_11">[11]</a></span></p>

+

+<p>"He has never studied anything but mining

+engineering. He is working with his father

+here."</p>

+

+<p>The unconscious sadness of the speaker's tone

+impressed her listener.</p>

+

+<p>"He does landscapes, too," went on the mother,

+lifting one after another of the sketches

+of mountain, valley, and streamlet, "a little of

+everything, you see." Mrs. Sidney regarded the

+work wistfully.</p>

+

+<p>"Why, they're lovely," declared Mrs. Fabian.

+"Why don't you pin them up on the

+walls?"</p>

+

+<p>"Because it rather annoys Phil's father, to

+see them, and it only tantalizes the boy."</p>

+

+<p>"So Mr. Sidney isn't willing he should

+study?"</p>

+

+<p>"I don't think he would thwart us if he saw

+any hope in it, but one can't enter on the life

+of an art-student without any capital. Allan

+knows there is a living for Phil in the work of

+a mining engineer, so he has discouraged the

+boy's talent."</p>

+

+<p>"It is a great responsibility to thwart a

+child's bent," declared Mrs. Fabian impressively.</p>

+

+<p>"I have always felt so. I used to be very rest<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_12" id="Page_12">[12]</a></span>less

+and anxious about it. My husband seemed

+to feel that because Phil was a strapping boy, a

+natural athlete, that painting was a womanish

+profession for him. He had the ability to help

+him into mining engineering lines, and he always

+pooh-poohed the idea of Phil's attempting

+to be an artist." Mrs. Sidney gave a little

+shrug. "We didn't have the money anyway, so

+Allan naturally has had his way."</p>

+

+<p>"One can't blame him," returned Mrs.

+Fabian, who had relaxed as the wind ceased to

+shake the cabin. "Painting is even more precarious

+than acting; yet what a talent the boy

+has!"</p>

+

+<p>She held before her a bold sketch in charcoal

+of the mountain-side in the winter&mdash;few in

+strokes, but striking in its breadth and power.</p>

+

+<p>"He has had an offer from a newspaper in

+Denver to take the position of cartoonist. His

+ability for caricature is good. See these of

+Allan."</p>

+

+<p>Mrs. Fabian laughed as she examined the

+small sheets. "I haven't seen your husband for

+ten years, Mary, but these recall his clean-cut

+face better than a photograph would, I believe.

+Phil rather gets back at his father in these,

+doesn't he?"</p>

+

+<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_13" id="Page_13">[13]</a></span></p>

+

+<p>"Oh, Allan laughed at them too. He's secretly

+proud of Phil's cleverness, even while he

+discourages it. He tells him it is all right for an

+accomplishment, but a forlorn hope for a

+living."</p>

+

+<p>"And right he is," responded Mrs. Fabian,

+laying down the sketches. "Look at Aunt

+Mary's experience. There she has lived alone

+all these years and given her life to the attempt

+to make a name in the artistic world. I go

+sometimes to see her, of course, for there she is

+right in town, but her pictures"&mdash;Mrs. Fabian

+lifted her eyes to the rafters&mdash;"they're

+daubs!"</p>

+

+<p>"I know," returned Mary Sidney, looking

+back into the fire. "She sent me one on my last

+birthday. She never forgets her name-child."</p>

+

+<p>Mrs. Fabian laughed. "I fancy you wished

+she would, for that time."</p>

+

+<p>"No," returned the hostess, slowly, "I think

+Aunt Mary sees more than she has the technique

+to express. She gets an effect."</p>

+

+<p>Mrs. Fabian raised her eyebrows. "She certainly

+does. She makes me want to run a mile."</p>

+

+<p>"The gift led to our having a little correspondence.

+I sent her a couple of Phil's sketches

+and she was delighted with them."</p>

+

+<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_14" id="Page_14">[14]</a></span></p>

+

+<p>"She might well be," was the answer. There

+was a brief silence, then the visitor continued:

+"So Phil is something of a bone of contention

+between you and his father?"</p>

+

+<p>"It is our only difference. Yet it can scarcely

+even be called that, because it is a fact that we

+haven't the money to give him the start he

+should have."</p>

+

+<p>Mrs. Fabian looked at her cousin curiously.</p>

+

+<p>"So this new calmness of yours&mdash;this repose.

+It is resignation, at least, if not despair."</p>

+

+<p>Mary Sidney smiled at the fire. "No," she

+returned, "I told you. It is faith."</p>

+

+<p>"Religion?"</p>

+

+<p>"Yes, religion. Not the sort of ideas we were

+brought up in, Isabel. Something quite different."</p>

+

+<p>"What is it, then? Where did you find it?"</p>

+

+<p>"It found me."</p>

+

+<p>"How mysterious! Is that wind coming up

+again, Mary?"</p>

+

+<p>"How it blew that night!" said Mary Sidney

+thoughtfully, still looking into the fire. "It was

+just before Thanksgiving, I remember, five

+years ago. Allan and I had come up to the mine,

+Phil had gone back to college, and one night a

+belated traveller, overtaken by the storm which<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_15" id="Page_15">[15]</a></span>

+came up as suddenly as this, stopped at the door

+and asked if he could stay all night with us. He

+was one of these vital men, full of energy, who

+seem to exhale good cheer. Allan thoroughly

+enjoyed a talk with him that evening, and when

+we went to bed I remember his sighing and remarking

+that a man must be either a fool or a

+philosopher who could keep such an optimistic

+outlook on life as this Mr. Tremaine. I returned

+that perhaps our guest had struck a

+gold-mine here in the mountains, and I remember

+how Allan grumbled&mdash;'Either that, or the

+pot of gold at the end of the rainbow.'</p>

+

+<p>"Allan came in here once, where we had left

+the guest to sleep on the couch, to see if he

+wanted anything; and he found him reading in

+front of the embers. When he came back he

+remarked: 'That fellow has a smile that doesn't

+usually last beyond the tenth year.' The next

+morning dawned bright and our guest was in

+haste to depart. He tried in the nicest way to

+pay us for taking in a stranger, and we quite

+honestly told him that if any money were to

+pass it should go from us to him for cheering our

+exile. He took from his pocket a small black

+book and held it out to me. 'Then,' he said,

+'may I leave with you a little book which has<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_16" id="Page_16">[16]</a></span>

+broken up the clouds of life for me, and let the

+light stream through? You have time up here

+to read,&mdash;and to think?' He made the addition

+with that smile which had roused Allan's

+curiosity, shook hands with us both, thanked

+us again, mounted his horse and rode away. We

+never saw him afterward. I often wish I knew

+where he was, that I might thank him."</p>

+

+<p>"What was the book?" asked Mrs. Fabian,

+impressed by the fervor of the other's tone.</p>

+

+<p>"A&mdash;a commentary on the Bible. A new

+light on the meaning of the Bible."</p>

+

+<p>"How queer! I'm sure I thought our family

+knew as much about the Bible as the average of

+decent people."</p>

+

+<p>Mrs. Fabian's tone was slightly resentful.</p>

+

+<p>"We did," returned Mary Sidney.</p>

+

+<p>"So that's what you meant a few minutes

+ago by the calm of faith."</p>

+

+<p>Mrs. Sidney nodded. "I know now what

+that sentence means: 'Cast your burden on the

+Lord.' Phil is the most precious thing on earth

+to me. The years seem to be slipping by without

+showing us a possible path to what we wish.

+'Wait patiently on the Lord' doesn't mean

+inaction either. I've learned that. I know

+that at the right time&mdash;the right moment&mdash;<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_17" id="Page_17">[17]</a></span>circumstances

+will arise to show us if Phil

+is to&mdash;"</p>

+

+<p>A sudden blast of wind brought a start and a

+muffled exclamation from the guest, and at the

+same instant a stamping sounded outside. The

+lamp-flames rose wildly, and smoked in the instant

+of opening the door wide enough to admit

+the lithe form of a man whose shoulders and

+soft felt hat glistened with snow. He quickly

+closed the door and stamped again, taking off

+the hat from his short damp locks and shaking

+it vigorously.</p>

+

+<p>"Phil, this is my cousin, Mrs. Fabian," said

+Mrs. Sidney. "You used to call her Aunt Isabel

+when you were a little chap and we went to visit

+her once. Do you remember?"</p>

+

+<p>"When a cousin is once removed she becomes

+an aunt," declared Mrs. Fabian, looking the

+young man over with approval.</p>

+

+<p>"My hand is too wet to shake," he said,

+meeting her interested gaze, his own luminous

+in the firelight.</p>

+

+<p>"Lucky boy! You have your mother's eyes!"

+she exclaimed.</p>

+

+<p>"Oh, no," said Mary Sidney; "Phil's are

+blue."</p>

+

+<p>"Dark with terror, then!" exclaimed Mrs.<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_18" id="Page_18">[18]</a></span>

+Fabian, again anxious. "Isn't the storm

+frightful?"</p>

+

+<p>Phil's amused glance sought his mother's.</p>

+

+<p>"It's sort of spitting outside," he returned,

+unbuttoning his corduroy coat.</p>

+

+<p>"You're making fun of a tenderfoot," said

+Mrs. Fabian, watching his keen face admiringly.

+"Don't pretend. What have you done

+with my poor innocent husband?"</p>

+

+<p>"He'll be up here in a few minutes with my

+poor innocent father who has been showing him

+why he'll never be a millionaire out of that

+mine."</p>

+

+<p>"What do I care if he isn't, so long as he

+isn't lost in this storm!"</p>

+

+<p>"I came on ahead because the mail had just

+been brought in." As he spoke, the young man

+brought a small bunch of letters and papers

+from an inner pocket.</p>

+

+<p>"A great excitement, Isabel," said the hostess.

+"Only twice a week, you know."</p>

+

+<p>"There's another letter from the Denver

+paper," went on Phil, looking at his mother

+steadily.</p>

+

+<p>"You'll forgive us if we open everything,

+won't you, Isabel?" asked Mrs. Sidney.</p>

+

+<p>"Indeed, yes. Don't mind me." Mrs. Fabian<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_19" id="Page_19">[19]</a></span>

+returned to her chair by the fire and regarded

+the pair who seated themselves by the table.</p>

+

+<p>Phil had slipped off the damp coat, and his

+arm in its striped linen sleeve was thrown

+around his mother's shoulders.</p>

+

+<p>The visitor's eyes filled with something like

+envy. Kathleen and Edgar were her step-children,

+the boy had been five years of age

+when she began to be, to use her own declaration,

+the best stepmother in the world. Edgar

+would never think of reading his letters with

+her in this frankly affectionate attitude. Must

+one live on a mountain-top, she wondered, to

+win the sort of look she had seen in this son's

+eyes?</p>

+

+<p>"I've been showing your Aunt Isabel your

+sketches, Phil," said Mrs. Sidney, holding open

+a letter they had just read. "I told her about

+the Denver paper. This is another offer from

+them, Isabel, an increased offer."</p>

+

+<p>"I'm sure that's very flattering," returned

+Mrs. Fabian.</p>

+

+<p>Phil did not speak. His straight brows were

+knit in perplexity, and his lips were set in the

+look of longing that his mother knew.</p>

+

+<p>"I don't know this writing from New York,"

+said Mrs. Sidney, opening the next letter.</p>

+

+<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_20" id="Page_20">[20]</a></span></p>

+

+<p>Glancing over it she gave a startled exclamation.</p>

+

+<p>"Whew!" breathed the boy, reading over her

+shoulder. "Poor Aunt Mary!"</p>

+

+<p>"Isabel, Aunt Mary has gone!" exclaimed

+Mrs. Sidney.</p>

+

+<p>"What! I didn't know she was ill. She

+wasn't ill. Who is there to attend to things?

+Who wrote you?"</p>

+

+<p>"Eliza Brewster. This is from her. It was

+very sudden. She had been at work at her easel

+an hour before. How sad it seems! How lonely!

+I wish we had both been there, Isabel. There is

+the letter." Phil took it across to Mrs. Fabian.

+"You see. She was buried day before yesterday.

+Oh, I'm glad we had that little interchange

+in the summer. Eliza loves her, but,

+after all, she is not her own."</p>

+

+<p>Phil mechanically opened another letter. His

+thoughts were with that unknown relative with

+cravings like to his, working through the gathering

+years toward a goal which had ever retreated

+before her. He unfolded a business

+letter. It enclosed a small sealed envelope

+addressed to himself in another handwriting.</p>

+

+<p>"Aunt Mary's!" said his mother. The son's<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_21" id="Page_21">[21]</a></span>

+arm was again around her as with heads close

+together they perused the following:&mdash;</p>

+

+<div class="blockquot">

+

+<p><span class="smcap">My dear Grand-Nephew, Philip Sidney</span>:&mdash;</p>

+

+<p>When you open this letter, I shall have gone

+to a world where surely I shall be permitted to

+come nearer to the source of beauty.</p>

+

+<p>My family all consider me a failure. I know

+it. They have laughed at my poor efforts. I

+know it; but since your mother wrote to me a

+month ago, sending me your sketches and telling

+me your longings, I have felt that out in the

+free Western country, there lives one with my

+blood in his veins, who will understand the

+thirst that has led me on, and nerved me to untiring

+effort&mdash;that has made it my only hope

+of happiness to live as I have lived, and work as

+I have worked. He will also understand, perhaps,

+that few as my rewards have been, I have

+occasionally felt that some beauty has crept

+through my brain and been fixed to the canvas,

+and that such moments have given me the

+highest bliss this world could bestow.</p>

+

+<p>For a month, then, I have taken comfort in

+my artist-boy, no matter if you are known to

+others as an engineer. I have kept on my easel

+the photograph your mother sent me, and every<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_22" id="Page_22">[22]</a></span>

+day while I work, I look from time to time into

+your eyes, your mother's lovely eyes. I rejoice

+in your thick hair, and your splendid chin and

+firm, full-curved mouth. It isn't often that a

+head wanders from the Louvre and becomes

+set on a pair of modern shoulders. I, the old

+woman, peering through her spectacles, and

+painting with a hand that is often far from

+steady, have found a joy in studying the harmony

+of your promise. You have my blood in

+your veins, but you will succeed where I have

+failed. A happy failure, Philip. Don't feel sad

+for me. I've had moments of joy that no one

+knew. No one took the trouble to know; but

+nobody is to blame. Lives are very full in these

+rushing days.</p>

+

+<p>I believe in you, and I long for you to get

+started toward that land where you fain would

+be. Your mother says that the door hasn't

+opened yet. Looking into your young eyes, a

+great thought came to me. Supposing I, the

+ineffectual, could set that door ajar! With the

+thought came the first great regret for my poverty.

+Never mind, thought I stoutly; if I can

+set that door a wee bit open, his young strength

+can do the rest!</p>

+

+<p>I have had warnings that soon the great door<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_23" id="Page_23">[23]</a></span>

+will be opened for me; the door that ushers in to

+the heart's desire. Mine has been for Truth

+and Beauty, O God, Thou knowest!</p>

+

+<p>So I am making my will&mdash;such a poor little

+short will; but all for you, my kindred spirit,

+my knight who will deliver from failure, my

+Philip Sidney.</p>

+

+<p>The faithful maid Eliza will take care of my

+effects for you. You will find some useful things

+among the paraphernalia here. I look at my

+old easel and wonder if it will ever be promoted

+to hold a canvas of yours.</p>

+

+<p>This letter will be enclosed to you in one from

+my lawyer, telling you the business side of my

+wishes. The heart side no one can tell. I swell

+with longing for your success, and happiness;

+and so good-bye.</p>

+

+<p>The mother who never had a son, gains one

+in you. The painter who never was an artist,

+becomes one in you!</p>

+

+<p>And so, dear, I am your happy</p>

+

+<p class="right">

+<span class="smcap">Aunt Mary</span>.

+</p></div>

+

+<p>Mary Sidney and her boy exchanged a look.

+With unsteady hands Phil straightened the

+legal letter, and they read it together. Then

+they rose from the table with one accord.</p>

+

+<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_24" id="Page_24">[24]</a></span></p>

+

+<p>Mrs. Fabian, wrapped in thought, looked up

+at the sudden movement.</p>

+

+<p>Phil's concentrated gaze went past her to the

+fire, and he stood motionless, one hand leaning

+on the table, the other arm around his mother.

+Mary Sidney clasped the rustling paper to her

+breast. All the self-forgetfulness of mother-love

+shone in her wet eyes as she met Mrs. Fabian's

+questioning look.</p>

+

+<p>"Isabel, I told you it would come," she said.

+"I told you we should know. The light is here.

+Phil is going to New York."</p>

+

+<hr class="chap" />

+

+<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_25" id="Page_25">[25]</a></span></p>

+

+

+

+

+<div class="chapter">

+<h2>CHAPTER II</h2>

+</div>

+

+<p class="ph3">SEVERED COMPANIONSHIP</p>

+

+

+<p>Eliza Brewster could count on the fingers of

+one hand the number of times that tears had

+escaped her pale eyes. She had always felt for

+those who wept easily, the same leniency without

+comprehension that she entertained for

+women who fainted.</p>

+

+<p>Trials had come and gone in her life; but

+never, since the day when she discovered some

+boys maltreating her cat, had she shed such

+tears as flowed now in her sorrow. The cat's

+abbreviated tail bore witness still to that day's

+conflict, but both his wound and hers had

+healed.</p>

+

+<p>When would this new wound cease to ache

+and palpitate! Each day there in the lonely

+flat, Eliza Brewster renewed war with the memories

+to which she had no mind to succumb.

+The gentleness of her mistress, her innocent,

+ever-springing hope, her constant disappointments,

+the solitariness of her narrow life, the

+neglect of her relatives&mdash;all these things re<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_26" id="Page_26">[26]</a></span>curred

+to the faithful handmaiden with the

+terrific appeal which contracts the newly bereft

+heart, causing it to bleed afresh. Mary Ballard,

+in spite of her twenty years' greater age, had

+been child as well as mistress to the faithful

+woman, who cared for the quiet, shy dreamer

+of dreams through the twenty-five years of the

+latter's widowhood.</p>

+

+<p>Now Eliza's occupation was gone. All her

+rather hard philosophy, all her habitual self-possession,

+was swamped in a world where she

+could no longer call her dear one from the easel

+to her meals; and where the rooms of the little

+apartment grew spacious and echoed from sheer

+emptiness.</p>

+

+<p>Mrs. Ballard had bequeathed her maid all her

+clothing, and all her personal possessions, save

+one old-fashioned diamond brooch, which was

+to be sent to her namesake, Mary Sidney. Some

+weeks before her death, she told Eliza of the disposition

+of her effects. In referring to the small

+gift of money which was to be hers, she said:&mdash;</p>

+

+<p>"I wish it were more, Eliza, but," looking

+wistfully into the eyes of her companion, "I

+have a great mission for my little capital as I

+have told you. If only the amount were as great

+as the object!"</p>

+

+<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_27" id="Page_27">[27]</a></span></p>

+

+<p>"Nonsense, talking about wills," rejoined

+Eliza brusquely, a new delicacy in the loved

+face making her tone sharp, "more likely I'll

+be leaving something to you; though I don't

+know what it would be, unless 'twas the cat."</p>

+

+<p>Mrs. Ballard smiled. "Not a bad legacy,"

+she replied. "Pluto is very sympathetic. He

+likes to watch me paint. He has really concluded

+to endure the smell of oil and turpentine

+just to keep me company."</p>

+

+<p>At the moment the night-black cat was lifting

+green eyes of approval to his own portrait

+which stood near, and Mrs. Ballard buried a

+veined hand in his glossy fur. A few weeks later

+that hand was still. Oh, the dear garments with

+the outline of the wearer still warm in their

+curves! Who has not known the tender, overpowering

+anguish of their touch? Every day

+Eliza tried to systematize and pack her new

+belongings, and every day she postponed the

+ordeal until to-morrow.</p>

+

+<p>Mrs. Ballard's watch alone stood on the table

+at the head of her bed, hanging in the little

+satin slipper just as it had ticked beside her

+mistress's sleeping form so many years. The

+watch seemed as alive as Pluto, and almost as

+much of a companion. It spoke eloquently of<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_28" id="Page_28">[28]</a></span>

+the gentle being who had always been unconscious

+of its warnings.</p>

+

+<p>On the mantelpiece in the living-room, which

+had been studio as well, was Philip Sidney's

+photograph and his two sketches, one of his

+mother, and one of a storm-beaten tree. They

+were the two that Mary Sidney had sent in

+response to her aunt's gift in the summer-time.

+All three pictures were turned now to the wall.

+Mrs. Sidney was a relative. That stamped her

+for Eliza. The sketches had been either the

+vainglorious gift of a fond mamma, or else

+prompted by hope of the very result they had

+gained. As for the photograph of the artist,

+Eliza could not deny that it had marvellously

+cheered and companioned the last months of

+her dear one's life.</p>

+

+<p>Indeed, in those days, recent yet already

+seeming so long past, Eliza, out in her kitchen,

+had often laughed grimly to herself at the infatuation

+for the picture shown by her mistress.</p>

+

+<p>"If she was sixteen she couldn't be more

+head over heels in love," she would soliloquize.

+"I s'pose an artist has got to be just so stirred

+up by good looks, whether it's a landscape or a

+human; but I know I wouldn't trust a hand<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_29" id="Page_29">[29]</a></span>some

+man around the corner with a dog's

+dinner."</p>

+

+<p>In pursuance of these reflections, when her

+mistress had gone, Phil's picture went with the

+sketches, his face to the wall.</p>

+

+<p>Eliza's attitude toward the whole world was

+defiance on the subject of her mistress's lifework.

+Of course, Mrs. Ballard was an artist; a

+great artist. Eliza knew it must be so, there

+were so many of her pictures that she could not

+understand.</p>

+

+<p>A canvas which was a blur to her contained

+so much which the painter would explain while

+Eliza stood devotedly by, dutifully assenting to

+the unravelling of the snarl of form and color.</p>

+

+<p>"You don't care for it, do you, Eliza?" the

+artist would say sometimes, wistfully.</p>

+

+<p>"Indeed, I do, Mrs. Ballard," would come

+the response, and never words rang more

+prompt and true. "I'm just one o' those folks

+so practical, I can't see an inch before my nose

+and I've never had advantages. I haven't got

+any insight, as you call it, beyond a dishpan;

+but when you explain it so clear, that's when I

+begin to see."</p>

+

+<p>This latter was a loyal lie; as a rule, Eliza

+never did see; but she applauded just the same<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_30" id="Page_30">[30]</a></span>

+with vague murmurs of wonder and admiration.</p>

+

+<p>It hurt the faithful soul even now to recall

+how, when the sketches came from the West,

+her mistress had eagerly examined them, and

+bitten her lip, her eyes glistening. "There's the

+true touch, Eliza," she had said quietly. "This

+boy has a spark of the divine fire."</p>

+

+<p>"Pooh! I don't think so at all," Eliza had

+returned stoutly and contemptuously. "Of

+course, that drawin' of his mother is pleasant

+enough, but you haven't seen her in years.

+You don't know how good the likeness is; and

+as for that landscape, that rough twisted tree

+most blown off its feet and clouds racin' above

+those rocks, nobody'd ever think they was anything

+except just what they are, a tree and rocks

+and clouds; awful pokerish, I call it, not a bit

+pretty." Eliza's long nose lifted in scorn.</p>

+

+<p>Mrs. Ballard smiled and bowed her head over

+the wind-blown tree.</p>

+

+<p>"My flesh and blood, still," she murmured.</p>

+

+<p>Now, in the dreary days, Eliza moved about

+aimlessly, forgetting to eat, and roused only by

+Pluto's indignant <em>meows</em>, to remember that,

+though he might mourn, still he felt that he

+owed it to himself to keep his coat glossy by

+milk baths, taken internally.</p>

+

+<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_31" id="Page_31">[31]</a></span></p>

+

+<p>Never had he known such long luxurious naps

+in the lap of his mistress as now. Wrapped in

+thought she sat for hours without moving; the

+irrepressible tears welling up from her heart and

+creeping, one by one, down her thin cheeks.</p>

+

+<p>She had made no friends in the cheap apartment

+building where they lived. It was a changing

+population, which ebbed and flowed at the

+mercy of its own financial tide.</p>

+

+<p>"There ain't a lady in this house except you,"

+Eliza had been wont to say to her mistress.</p>

+

+<p>"I don't believe we know that," Mrs. Ballard

+had rejoined; "but we're too busy for neighboring,

+aren't we, Eliza?"</p>

+

+<p>Whenever there had been any leisure, Mrs.

+Ballard had taken her handmaiden to the

+Metropolitan Museum of Art.</p>

+

+<p>Not for worlds would Eliza mar the joy with

+which her mistress bestowed upon her this

+treat. So she climbed endless stairs, and

+plodded weary miles with fortitude, having

+ready a response to every worshipful utterance

+with which Mrs. Ballard pointed out this and

+that marvel.</p>

+

+<p>"Wonderful, ain't it!" Eliza would respond

+with the regularity of clockwork.</p>

+

+<p>"How I love to get you out of that kitchen,<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_32" id="Page_32">[32]</a></span>

+Eliza, up into this atmosphere of genius!" her

+mistress would say, in a burst of affection for

+the strong mainspring of her household.</p>

+

+<p>"Wonderful, ain't it!" returned the beneficiary,

+stepping on the other foot in the effort to

+rest one leg.</p>

+

+<p>The sight of the very exterior of the great

+repository of art-treasures caused Eliza's bones

+to ache, if she caught sight of the imposing pile

+from a car window.</p>

+

+<p>One day, however, all this was changed. The

+Metropolitan Museum of Art rose in Eliza's

+estimation to the level of her own kitchen where

+a chromo depicting kittens in various attitudes

+of abandon hung over the table.</p>

+

+<p>Mistress and maid were doing the well-worn

+circuit. The faithful echo had repeated "Wonderful,

+ain't it!" for the twentieth time. The

+ardor in Mrs. Ballard's eyes was lending wings

+to her slender body, but Eliza had lagged,

+spurred on, and rested the other leg, until, to

+paraphrase a bit from Mr. Lowell&mdash;</p>

+

+<div class="poetry-container"><div class="poetry"><div class="stanza">

+    <div class="verse">"On which leg she felt the worse,</div>

+    <div class="verse">She couldn't 'a' told you, 'nother,"&mdash;</div>

+</div></div></div>

+

+<p>when suddenly an inspiration of deliverance

+seized her. The fact that it had not seized her<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_33" id="Page_33">[33]</a></span>

+months before was simply another proof of devotion

+to the sun of her existence. Each time

+she entered the massive gates to her place of

+torture, she left such mentality as she possessed

+behind her. As well might a fish be expected

+to navigate in the free air of heaven as Eliza

+in these marble halls. This was her mistress's

+element. Let her guide. But one memorable

+day the two were standing before a marine.</p>

+

+<p>"Oh, Eliza, that's new!" exclaimed Mrs.

+Ballard; and from the vigor of her tone, her

+handmaid feared the worst. She had believed

+they were nearly ready to depart. Now her

+companion seemed inspired for another two

+hours.</p>

+

+<p>"Might it not have been painted from your

+island," continued Mrs. Ballard. "What adorable

+work!"</p>

+

+<p>"Wonderful, ain't it!" came Eliza's wooden

+accents.</p>

+

+<p>"What feeling!" murmured her rapt companion.</p>

+

+<p>"I only hope 'tain't sciatica," thought

+Eliza, wiggling her hip. Her casually roving eye

+caught sight of one vacancy on the bench in the

+middle of the room.</p>

+

+<p>"Don't you want to sit down a spell and look<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_34" id="Page_34">[34]</a></span>

+at it, Mrs. Ballard?" she asked. "There's a

+place."</p>

+

+<p>"No," was the slow, absent reply. "I seem

+to prefer to stand in its presence&mdash;a royal

+presence, Eliza."</p>

+

+<p>Miss Brewster waited no longer. With incontinent

+haste she limped, as in seven-league

+boots, toward the desired haven. She saw that

+a portly gentleman was heading for the same

+spot. She sprinted. She beat him by a toe's

+length, and nearly received him on her maiden

+lap. He recovered himself and glared at her.

+She maintained an unconscious air, her gaze

+fixed on the sky of the marine painting. It was

+all she could see; there were so many standing

+in front of her, welcoming this new treasure to

+the home of beauty.</p>

+

+<p>Presently Mrs. Ballard, missing her shadow,

+looked about and at last descried Eliza. She

+approached, her small, veined hands clasped on

+her breast for joy.</p>

+

+<p>"It seems as if it must have been done from

+the island!" she exclaimed. "How can you sit

+down, Eliza! I should think it would take you

+straight to your old home!"</p>

+

+<p>Miss Brewster did not say that she thought

+there was more likelihood of her again seeing<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_35" id="Page_35">[35]</a></span>

+her native place if she did sit down; but for

+once her clockwork did not act. It seemed as if

+the succumbing of her legs had impeded the

+other mechanism.</p>

+

+<p>"I just felt as if I had to, Mrs. Ballard," she

+answered numbly.</p>

+

+<p>"You dear!" exclaimed her mistress impulsively,

+speaking low. "I might have known it.

+You felt overcome. I don't wonder. It took me

+back to the island, too, in a flash! I dare say

+you often conceal homesickness from me, Eliza.

+We must try to go there next summer! I did

+use to think that perhaps Mrs. Fabian&mdash;but,

+no matter; we can go on our own account,

+Eliza, and we will, too."</p>

+

+<p>"It would be lots better for you than staying

+here in summer, that's sure."</p>

+

+<p>Mrs. Ballard sighed, "Yes, if only the rent

+didn't keep on, and keep on."</p>

+

+<p>Eliza knew the arguments. She did not pursue

+the subject now. She rose, keeping firm

+pressure, however, against the bench.</p>

+

+<p>"Take this place, Mrs. Ballard, and rest a

+minute."</p>

+

+<p>"Oh, I'm not a bit tired. I thought we'd take

+one or two more rooms. The light is wonderful

+to-day."</p>

+

+<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_36" id="Page_36">[36]</a></span></p>

+

+<p>Up to the present moment Eliza in this temple

+of genius had, as has been said, galvanized

+her energies and followed where her mistress led,

+at any cost, as unquestioningly as the needle

+follows the magnet; but this was the moment

+of her emancipation. Mrs. Ballard herself gave

+her the cue, for she added with consideration

+for an unwonted sentiment:&mdash;</p>

+

+<p>"Unless you'd rather stay and look at that

+reminder of home a while longer, Eliza? I'll

+come back for you."</p>

+

+<p>"Oh, would you, just as soon, Mrs. Ballard?"</p>

+

+<p>The eagerness of the tone touched her mistress.</p>

+

+<p>"Why, of course, my dear, do so; but I'd get

+up if I were you." Eliza had sunk back upon

+the bench with the certainty and impact of a

+pile-driver. "There is such a crowd you can't

+see anything from here but the sky."</p>

+

+<p>"I feel as if I could look at that sky for a

+week," responded Eliza with a sincerity which

+admitted of no doubt.</p>

+

+<p>"It is wonderful, isn't it?" returned her

+mistress, unconscious of plagiarism. She patted

+Eliza's shoulder. "I'll be back soon," she assured

+her, and moved away.</p>

+

+<p>"The good creature!" she thought. "How<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_37" id="Page_37">[37]</a></span>

+selfish I have been to her! I ought occasionally

+to let her go home; but I know she'd never

+go without me. She wouldn't believe that I'd

+eat three meals a day, no matter how faithfully

+I promised." And Mrs. Ballard laughed

+a little before becoming engrossed in an old

+favorite.</p>

+

+<p>She was gone so long that Eliza cogitated

+with newly acquired ingenuity.</p>

+

+<p>"It's a good thing," she reflected, "that the

+fool-catcher ain't artistic. He'd 'a' caught me

+here lots o' times. Supposin' I was with that

+dear crazy critter all this time, hoppin' along

+in misery, or standin' in front o' some paintin'

+like a stork." Eliza's light eyes twinkled.

+"Why shouldn't I set up a taste in pictures,

+too? Just watch me from this on."</p>

+

+<p>After this day Mrs. Ballard did observe with

+joy a transformation in her handmaid's attitude.

+When they visited the galleries Eliza

+would move along with her usual calm until

+suddenly some picture would particularly hold

+her attention.</p>

+

+<p>"Is that a very fine paintin'?" she would ask

+of her cicerone.</p>

+

+<p>"Which one, Eliza? Oh, yes, I see. Certainly,

+or it wouldn't be here; but in that next room<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_38" id="Page_38">[38]</a></span>

+are those I thought we should make a study of

+to-day."</p>

+

+<p>Eliza's light eyes swept the unbroken polished

+surface of the floor of the adjoining room.

+"I know I haven't got very far along in understandin'

+these things," she said modestly, "but

+to my eyes there is a certain somethin' there,"&mdash;she

+paused and let her transfixed gaze toward

+the chosen picture say the rest.</p>

+

+<p>Mrs. Ballard held her lip between her teeth

+reflectively as she looked at it too. On that first

+occasion it was a summer landscape painted at

+sunset.</p>

+

+<p>"We've passed it many times," she thought,

+"but it's evident that Eliza is waking up!"</p>

+

+<p>The reflection was exultant. Far be it from

+Mrs. Ballard to interrupt the birth throes of her

+companion's artistic consciousness.</p>

+

+<p>"Then stay right here, Eliza, as long as you

+wish," she replied sympathetically. "I shall be

+near by."</p>

+

+<p>She hurried away in her light-footed fashion,

+and Eliza continued to stand before her cynosure

+long enough to disarm possible suspicion,

+and then backed thoughtfully away until she

+reached a bench upon which she sank, still with

+eyes upon the picture.</p>

+

+<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_39" id="Page_39">[39]</a></span></p>

+

+<p>Mrs. Ballard from the next room observed her

+trance.</p>

+

+<p>"She is waking up. Her eyes are opening,

+bless her heart," she thought. "Constant

+dropping does wear the stone."</p>

+

+<p>Eliza would have paraphrased the proverb

+and declared that constant dropping saves the

+life.</p>

+

+<p>From this day on she professed, and triumphantly

+acted upon, an appreciation for certain

+pictures; and Mrs. Ballard marvelled with

+pride at the catholicity of her taste; for such

+serpentine wisdom did Eliza display in passing,

+unseeing, many an inviting bench, that never,

+to their last pilgrimage to Mrs. Ballard's mecca,

+did the latter suspect the source of her companion's

+modest enthusiasm.</p>

+

+<p>"Poor thing," thought Eliza during these

+periods of rest; "it's a sin and a shame that she

+hasn't got anybody worthy to come with her.

+If those relatives of hers were, any of 'em, fit to

+live, one of 'em would bring her here sometimes.

+The poor dear, as long as she hasn't a soul but

+an ignorant country body like me to sympathize

+with her, I've got to do my best; and

+really if I set a spell once in a while, I'll have

+more sprawl and can seem to enjoy it more.<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_40" id="Page_40">[40]</a></span>

+It's awful hard when you can't think of anything

+but your joints! I'm younger'n she is,

+and I'm ashamed o' gettin' so tuckered; but

+she's got some kind o' wings that seem to lift

+her along."</p>

+

+<p>Mrs. Ballard, from the next room, caught

+Eliza's eye, smiled, and nodded, well pleased.

+So the era of peace ensued; and when Miss

+Brewster caught sight from a street car of the

+Metropolitan Museum of Art, she was able to

+regard it without a frown.</p>

+

+<hr class="chap" />

+

+<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_41" id="Page_41">[41]</a></span></p>

+

+

+

+

+<div class="chapter">

+<h2>CHAPTER III</h2>

+</div>

+

+<p class="ph3">MRS. FABIAN'S VISIT</p>

+

+

+<p>Eliza was not obliged to give up the apartment

+until the end of the month. Hence her drifting

+from day to day, and Pluto's naps in the lap of

+luxury.</p>

+

+<p>All her energy and systematic habits were in

+a state of suspension. Her clocks ran down.

+The watch in the tiny satin slipper beside her

+bed alone ticked the minutes away, and when

+Eliza wound it her eyes were too wet to see the

+time. Night fell and she went to bed. Morning

+dawned and she arose. She drank tea, but it

+was too much trouble to eat.</p>

+

+<p>One day the bell rang. At first she determined

+not to answer it. Then second thought

+came to her. What was she waiting here for

+except to answer the bell? Was her next duty

+not to introduce the usurper into his kingdom&mdash;to

+give into his desecrating hands those

+objects,&mdash;easel, palette, brushes, paints,&mdash;hallowed

+by her dear one's use? At the sound

+of a knock she hastened to fling open the door.<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_42" id="Page_42">[42]</a></span>

+Mrs. Fabian, elegantly gowned and furred,

+stood before her.</p>

+

+<p>Eliza gazed at this apparition dumb.</p>

+

+<p>"Why, Eliza Brewster," exclaimed the visitor

+with concern, "I scarcely knew you."

+After the mutual gaze of astonishment the

+caller moved in with her air of stately assurance,

+and Eliza followed her perforce into the

+living-room. Here Mrs. Fabian swiftly examined

+the possibilities of the scanty chairs,

+then seated herself in the largest.</p>

+

+<p>"You have been ill, too, Eliza? You look

+like a ghost!"</p>

+

+<p>The gaunt woman in the alpaca dress, so

+filled with resentment that she begrudged her

+own tears because they informed this "relative"

+of her grief, stood in silence with a beating

+heart.</p>

+

+<p>"Sit down, you poor creature," went on Mrs.

+Fabian, unsuspecting hidden fires.</p>

+

+<p>They burned higher at the tone of patronage,

+but Eliza, weakened from mourning and lack of

+food, felt her knees trembling and sank into the

+nearest chair.</p>

+

+<p>Mrs. Fabian, genuinely touched by the

+ravages she saw, broke the silence that followed.</p>

+

+<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_43" id="Page_43">[43]</a></span></p>

+

+<p>"I was greatly surprised and shocked to hear

+of Aunt Mary's sudden going."</p>

+

+<p>She began to feel uncomfortable under the

+set gaze of Eliza's swollen eyes.</p>

+

+<p>"I suppose you sent to my house at once, and

+found that Mr. Fabian and I were in the far

+West."</p>

+

+<p>"No, I didn't think of sending," returned

+Eliza.</p>

+

+<p>"You should have done so. Surely there was

+no one nearer to Aunt Mary than I."</p>

+

+<p>"It was in the paper," said Eliza dully.</p>

+

+<p>"Had I been here I should, of course, have

+taken charge of the funeral."</p>

+

+<p>The pale eyes emitted a curious light.</p>

+

+<p>"No, you wouldn't, Mrs. Fabian," was the

+quiet reply.</p>

+

+<p>"Why do you say that?"</p>

+

+<p>"Because the time for you to have done

+something for Mrs. Ballard was while she was

+alive."</p>

+

+<p>Eliza was too spent physically to speak other

+than softly, but her words brought the amazed

+color to her visitor's face.</p>

+

+<p>"You are presuming," Mrs. Fabian said,

+after a moment. "What do you know about

+it? I suppose Aunt Mary did not think it<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_44" id="Page_44">[44]</a></span>

+worth while to tell you all the things I did for

+her."</p>

+

+<p>"No," agreed Eliza, "she never said a word

+about the times you came with your automobile

+to take her riding; nor the picture exhibitions

+you took her to see, or the way you had

+her to dinner Thanksgivin' time and other

+times, or how you had her to spend part o' the

+summer with you at the island, or&mdash;"</p>

+

+<p>"Eliza Brewster, what does this mean!" Mrs.

+Fabian's eyes were dilated. "Aunt Mary was

+not related to my husband or to his children.

+I never expected him to marry my family."</p>

+

+<p>Miss Brewster's gaze was fixed upon the

+speaker with pale scorn, but the latter continued

+with what she endeavored to make a dignified

+defence. "I always sent Aunt Mary a

+present at Christmas."</p>

+

+<p>"Yes," interrupted Eliza. "Last season

+'twas a paper-cutter. You gave her cuts

+enough without that."</p>

+

+<p>"And I called upon her at intervals," continued

+the visitor in a heightened tone to drown

+the small voice.</p>

+

+<p>"Intervals of a year," said Eliza.</p>

+

+<p>Mrs. Fabian started to rise, but bethought

+herself, and sank back.</p>

+

+<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_45" id="Page_45">[45]</a></span></p>

+

+<p>"You are impertinent," she said coldly. "A

+person in your position cannot understand the

+duties of one in mine. There can be no discussion

+between you and me." The speaker stirred

+in her chair and collected herself. "I&mdash;and

+every one of Aunt Mary's relatives&mdash;appreciate

+your faithful service to her, and thank you

+for it."</p>

+

+<p>"Don't you dare!" ejaculated Eliza, with

+such sudden belligerency that Mrs. Fabian

+started.</p>

+

+<p>"You're almost crazed with fatigue and grief,

+poor creature," she said at last. "I can see that

+you are scarcely responsible for what you say

+to-day. You must take a long rest. Shall you

+go home to the island or take another place in

+town? I can find you one."</p>

+

+<p>Mrs. Fabian felt the superiority of her own

+self-control as she made this kind offer; besides,

+in these troublous days with servants, steady,

+reliable Eliza, with a sure touch in cookery, was

+not to be despised. The visitor accompanied

+her offer with a soothing attempt at a smile.</p>

+

+<p>Eliza had relapsed into dullness. "I won't

+trouble you," she said.</p>

+

+<p>"It would not be any trouble," was the

+magnanimous reply. "Just let me know any<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_46" id="Page_46">[46]</a></span>

+time when you would like a reference, Eliza. It

+will give me pleasure to reward your faithfulness."</p>

+

+<p>Mrs. Fabian loved approval quite as much as

+she did admiration. She would feel much more

+comfortable to win that of even this uncompromising,

+cranky individual, so lined with the

+signs of suffering. As Eliza Brewster was a

+native of the island where Mrs. Fabian had

+resorted from the days of her girlhood, she had

+a very slight but old acquaintance with this

+woman. As she glanced at the thin hair, now

+fast turning grey, the sunken eyes and cheeks,

+and the bony, roughened hands, she shuddered

+beneath her ermine-lined sables, to remember

+that she and Eliza Brewster were about the

+same age. She passed a white-gloved hand over

+the firm contour of her smooth cheek as if to

+make sure of its firmness. "I believe it was I

+who recommended you to Aunt Mary in the

+first place, long ago," she added.</p>

+

+<p>"That's one o' your mistakes," said Eliza

+drily.</p>

+

+<p>"On the contrary," returned Mrs. Fabian

+graciously. She was determined to warm this

+forlorn specimen of New England frigidity into

+something humanly companionable, else how<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_47" id="Page_47">[47]</a></span>

+was she going to attain the object of her visit?

+She went on with such flattery of manner as she

+might have employed toward a desirable débutante.

+"It has proved quite the best thing

+that I ever did for Aunt Mary; securing her

+comfort and thereby the peace of mind of all

+who belonged to her. Don't call it a mistake,

+Eliza."</p>

+

+<p>"However that may be," returned the other

+immovably, "'t wa'n't you that did it. 'Twas

+your Cousin Mary."</p>

+

+<p>"Oh&mdash;was it? Oh, indeed?" responded Mrs.

+Fabian, slipping back her furs still further.

+Eliza Brewster's disagreeable manner was making

+her nervous. "Yes, I believe Mrs. Sidney

+was with us on her wedding-trip just at that

+time. Mr. Fabian and I have just returned

+from visiting Mrs. Sidney out in her wild

+mountain home."</p>

+

+<p>Eliza's eyes roved involuntarily to two blank

+sheets of board standing on the mantelpiece;

+but she was silent.</p>

+

+<p>"Do you know the contents of Aunt Mary's

+will, Eliza?" asked Mrs. Fabian, after waiting

+vainly for an inquiry as to her cousin's well-being.</p>

+

+<p>"I do."</p>

+

+<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_48" id="Page_48">[48]</a></span></p>

+

+<p>"What do you think of it?"</p>

+

+<p>"That don't matter, does it?"</p>

+

+<p>A streak of light illumined Mrs. Fabian's

+annoyance. Ah, that was what was the matter

+with Eliza. After twenty-five years of faithful

+service, she had expected to inherit her mistress's

+few hundreds. Full explanation, this, of

+the present sullenness. The disappointment

+must, indeed, have been bitter.</p>

+

+<p>Mrs. Fabian felt an impulse of genuine sympathy.

+She knew the singular loneliness of

+Eliza's situation; knew that she had no near

+kin, and the transplanting from the island home

+had been complete. What an outlook now, was

+Eliza Brewster's!</p>

+

+<p>"Perhaps the will was as much of a surprise

+to you as it was to the rest of us," Mrs. Fabian

+went on. "The Sidneys were amazed. They

+didn't tell me just how much Aunt Mary left

+young Mr. Sidney. Do you know?"</p>

+

+<p>"Yes," replied Eliza promptly.</p>

+

+<p>And again Mrs. Fabian looked at her interrogatively.

+As well question the Sphinx. She

+comprehended the stony closing of the thin lips.

+There might be a combination which would

+make them open, but she did not have it. She

+shrugged her fine-cloth shoulders. "Oh, well,<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_49" id="Page_49">[49]</a></span>

+it doesn't matter. It must have been very

+little, anyway."</p>

+

+<p>She sighed. She must get at her business,

+though she dreaded absurdly to introduce it.

+"Well, Eliza, if you will take me to Aunt

+Mary's room, I will go through her belongings.

+It is always the most painful duty connected

+with a death, but it cannot be escaped."</p>

+

+<p>Eliza stared at her, speechless.</p>

+

+<p>"Aunt Mary had a few very nice things,"

+went on Mrs. Fabian. She tried to smile as at

+a loving memory. "The regulation treasures of

+a dear old lady,&mdash;her diamond ring, a diamond

+brooch, and a camel's hair shawl&mdash;My

+heavens!" cried the visitor, interrupting herself

+suddenly with a shriek of terror. "Take it

+away! Take it away!"</p>

+

+<p>She clung to the back of her chair; for Pluto,

+silent as a shadow, had sprung upon the ends of

+her pelerine as they lay in her lap and was

+daintily nosing the fur, while perilously grasping

+its richness, his eyes glowing with excitement.

+Eliza rose, and sweeping him into one

+arm resumed her seat.</p>

+

+<p>"Oh, how that frightened me!" Mrs. Fabian

+panted and looked angrily at the animal with

+the jetty coat and abbreviated tail, whose eyes,<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_50" id="Page_50">[50]</a></span>

+live emeralds, expanded and contracted as they

+glowed still upon the coveted fur.</p>

+

+<p>If she expected an apology, none came.

+Eliza's pale face showed no emotion. Endurance

+was written in every line.</p>

+

+<p>"To be interrupted at such a critical moment!"

+Mrs. Fabian felt it was unbearable.</p>

+

+<p>"Let me see"&mdash;she began again with a

+little laugh. "Your pet knocked everything

+out of my head, Eliza. Oh, yes, I was saying

+that I will look over Aunt Mary's things

+now."</p>

+

+<p>She rose as she spoke. Eliza kept her seat.</p>

+

+<p>"You can't do that, Mrs. Fabian."</p>

+

+<p>"I certainly shall, Eliza Brewster. What do

+you mean?"</p>

+

+<p>"I mean that they're mine. She left 'em all

+to me."</p>

+

+<p>The speaker struggled to control the trembling

+of her lips.</p>

+

+<p>The visitor looked the limp black alpaca

+figure over, haughtily.</p>

+

+<p>"Aunt Mary left you her diamond ring, her

+diamond brooch, and her camel's hair shawl?"

+she asked sceptically.</p>

+

+<p>"She left her diamond brooch to her namesake,

+Mrs. Sidney. I sent it to her a week ago."</p>

+

+<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_51" id="Page_51">[51]</a></span></p>

+

+<p>"Then, since you know Aunt Mary's wishes,

+what did she leave me? The ring?"</p>

+

+<p>"No, ma'am!"</p>

+

+<p>"The shawl?"</p>

+

+<p>"No, ma'am."</p>

+

+<p>Mrs. Fabian's nostrils dilated.</p>

+

+<p>"My aunt's poor trifles are nothing to me, of

+course, except for sentiment's sake," she said

+haughtily.</p>

+

+<p>Eliza bowed her bitter face over Pluto's fur.</p>

+

+<p>"I am quite sure, however, that she did not

+pass away without some mention of me,&mdash;her

+sister's child."</p>

+

+<p>"She did, though, Mrs. Fabian. If it's a

+keepsake you want," added Eliza drily, "you

+may have the paper-cutter. It's never been

+out o' the box."</p>

+

+<p>The visitor, still standing, eyed the other

+with compressed lips before she spoke:&mdash;</p>

+

+<p>"I have told you that I don't consider you

+responsible to-day. You are half-crazed, and

+I'm sorry for you. Answer me this, however,

+and mind, I shall verify your words by a visit to

+Mrs. Ballard's lawyer. Did my aunt leave you,

+legally, all her personal possessions?"</p>

+

+<p>"She did."</p>

+

+<p>Mrs. Fabian maintained another space of<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_52" id="Page_52">[52]</a></span>

+silence, gazing at the seated figure, whose gown

+looked rusty behind the polished lynx-black

+pressed against it. There was no mistaking the

+truth in the pale, wretched eyes.</p>

+

+<p>"Disappointed about the money, though,

+and taking out her ill temper on me," thought

+the visitor.</p>

+

+<p>To Eliza's increased heaviness of heart, the

+lady resumed her seat.</p>

+

+<p>"Aunt Mary's death was sudden and unexpected

+and that explains her not speaking of

+me," she said; "but I know it would please

+her that I should use something that she had

+owned. I remember that shawl as being a very

+good one. It came to her from some of

+her husband's people. I'll buy that of you,

+Eliza."</p>

+

+<p>"Will you?" returned the other, and Pluto

+emitted an indignant yowl and tried to leap

+from the tightening hold.</p>

+

+<p>"Don't you let him go, Eliza!" cried Mrs.

+Fabian in a panic. "He's crazy about my fur.

+They always are.&mdash;Yes, the shawl is of no use

+to you and the money will be. It is so fine, it

+would be wicked to cut it into a wrap. I shall

+spread it on my grand piano."</p>

+

+<p>Silence, while Eliza struggled still to control<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_53" id="Page_53">[53]</a></span>

+the trembling lips, and Pluto twisted to escape

+her imprisoning arm.</p>

+

+<p>"I'm willing to give you twenty-five dollars

+for that shawl."</p>

+

+<p>Mrs. Fabian waited, and presently Eliza

+spoke:&mdash;</p>

+

+<p>"It ain't enough," she said, against her

+impeding breath.</p>

+

+<p>"Fifty, then. We all feel grateful to you."</p>

+

+<p>"Mrs. Fabian," Eliza sat up in her chair as if

+galvanized and looked her visitor in the eyes,

+while she spoke with unsteady solemnity, "the

+price o' that shawl is one million dollars."</p>

+

+<p>The visitor stared at the shabby figure with

+the grey, unkempt locks, then shrugged her

+shoulders with a smile. "You'll come to your

+senses, Eliza," she said. "Some day that fifty

+dollars will look very good to you. I'll hold the

+offer open&mdash;"</p>

+

+<p>"Likewise," added Eliza, breaking in upon

+her words with heightened voice, but the same

+deliberation, "that is the price of each handkerchief

+she left me, and each one of her little,

+wornout slippers, and her&mdash;"</p>

+

+<p>She could get no further. She choked. Mrs. Fabian

+rose; Pluto, with another cry and a supreme

+writhe, tore himself from his iron prison.</p>

+

+<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_54" id="Page_54">[54]</a></span></p>

+

+<p>The visitor shuddered, and looked at him

+fearfully, as his eager eyes seemed to threaten

+her. She hastened precipitately toward the

+door.</p>

+

+<p>Eliza, putting the utmost constraint upon

+herself, rose and ushered her out.</p>

+

+<p>Mrs. Fabian uttered a brief good-bye. Eliza

+was beyond speech.</p>

+

+<p>While the visitor entered her waiting car,

+and sank with relief among its cushions, the

+mourner stood, her back against the closed

+door, and her eyes closed.</p>

+

+<p>Restrained drops ran down her cheeks in

+well-worn ruts, and occasionally a spasmodic

+sob shook the slight form.</p>

+

+<p>Pluto came to her feet, his short tail stiffly

+outstretched and his half-closed eyes lifted to

+the sightless face. In the long silence he rubbed

+himself against her feet in token of forgiveness.</p>

+

+<hr class="chap" />

+

+<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_55" id="Page_55">[55]</a></span></p>

+

+

+

+

+<div class="chapter">

+<h2>CHAPTER IV</h2>

+</div>

+

+<p class="ph3">PHILIP SIDNEY</p>

+

+

+<p>The Fabians had given Philip Sidney a pressing

+invitation to spend his first week in New York

+with them. When he arrived, however, and

+announced himself at the house, through some

+misunderstanding there was no one there to

+receive him save the servants.</p>

+

+<p>A comely maid apologized for the absence of

+her mistress, saying that Mr. Sidney had not

+been expected until the following day; and

+showing him to his room she left him to his own

+devices.</p>

+

+<p>Emerging from his bath and toilet, he found

+Mrs. Fabian not yet returned. It was but

+four o'clock, and he decided to go to the

+Ballard apartment and attend to his errand

+there.</p>

+

+<p>Eliza had been doing some sweeping, the

+need for it goading her New England conscience

+to action. Her brown calico dress was pinned

+up over her petticoat, and her stern, lined face

+looked out from a sweeping-cap.</p>

+

+<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_56" id="Page_56">[56]</a></span></p>

+

+<p>There sounded suddenly a vigorous knock on

+her door.</p>

+

+<p>She scowled. "Some fresh agent, I s'pose,"

+she thought. "Too sly to speak up the tube."</p>

+

+<p>Broom in hand, she strode to the door and

+pulled it open with swift indignation.</p>

+

+<p>"Why didn't you ring?" she exclaimed

+fiercely. "We don't want&mdash;"</p>

+

+<p>She paused, her mouth open, and stared at

+the young man who pulled off a soft felt hat,

+and looked reassuring and breezy as he smiled.</p>

+

+<p>"I did ring, but it was the wrong apartment.

+There was no card downstairs, so I started up

+the trail. Is this Mrs. Ballard's?"</p>

+

+<p>The frank face, which she instantly recognized,

+and the clear voice that had a non-citified

+deliberation, accused Eliza of lack of

+hospitality; and she suddenly grew intensely

+conscious of her cap and petticoat.</p>

+

+<p>"Come in," she said. "I was doin' some

+sweepin'. The first&mdash;" she paused abruptly

+and led the way down the corridor to the

+shabby living-room.</p>

+

+<p>Phil's long steps followed her while his eyes

+shone with appreciation of the drum-major

+effect of the cap and broom, and the memory of

+his fierce greeting.</p>

+

+<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_57" id="Page_57">[57]</a></span></p>

+

+<p>"I don't wonder Aunt Mary died," he

+thought. "I would too."</p>

+

+<p>Meanwhile Eliza's heart was thumping. This

+interview was the climax of all she had dreaded.

+The usurper had an even more manly and attractive

+exterior than she had expected, but

+well she knew the brutal indifference of youth;

+the selfishness that takes all things for granted,

+and that secretly despises the treasures of the

+old.</p>

+

+<p>The haste with which she set the broom in

+the corner, unpinned her dress, and pulled off

+her cap, was tribute to the virile masculinity

+of the visitor; but the stony expression of her

+face was defence from the blows which she

+felt he would deliver with the same airy unconsciousness

+that showed in the swing of his

+walk.</p>

+

+<p>"You're Eliza Brewster, I'm sure," he said.

+"My mother knew you when she was a girl."</p>

+

+<p>The hasty removal of Eliza's cap had caused

+a weird flying-out of her locks. The direct gaze

+bent upon her twinkled.</p>

+

+<p>"I wonder if she'd let me paint her as

+Medusa," he was thinking; while her unspoken

+comment was: "And she never saw his

+teeth! It's just as well."</p>

+

+<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_58" id="Page_58">[58]</a></span></p>

+

+<p>"Yes, that's who I am," she said. "Sit down,

+Mr. Sidney. I've been expectin' you."</p>

+

+<p>"You didn't behave that way," he replied

+good-naturedly, obeying. "I thought at first I

+was going downstairs quicker than I came up,

+and I'd taken them three at a time."</p>

+

+<p>His manner was disarming and Eliza

+smoothed her flying locks.</p>

+

+<p>"The agents try to sneak around the rules o'

+the house," she said briefly.</p>

+

+<p>"So this is where Aunt Mary lived." He

+looked about the room with interest. "We

+people in God's country hear about these flats

+where you don't dare keep a dog for fear it'll

+wag its tail and knock something over."</p>

+

+<p>The troublesome lump in Eliza's throat had

+to be swallowed, so the visitor's keen glance

+swept about the bare place in silence.</p>

+

+<p>"I see she didn't go in much for jim-cracks,"

+he added presently.</p>

+

+<p>Eliza's lump was swallowed. "Mrs. Ballard

+didn't care for common things," she said

+coldly. "She was an artist."</p>

+

+<p>Phil comprehended vaguely that rebuke was

+implied, and he met the hard gaze as he hastened

+to reply:&mdash;</p>

+

+<p>"Yes, yes, I understand." An increase of the<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_59" id="Page_59">[59]</a></span>

+pathos he had always discerned since learning

+about his great-aunt, swept over him now, face

+to face with the meagreness of her surroundings.

+"Did Aunt Mary work in this room? I see an

+easel over there."</p>

+

+<p>"Yes, she worked here." The reply came in

+an expressionless voice.</p>

+

+<p>"Poor Aunt Mary!" thought the visitor.

+"No companion but this image!"</p>

+

+<p>Eliza exerted heroic self-control as she continued:

+"I've got the things packed up for you&mdash;the

+paints, and brushes, and palette. The

+easel's yours, too. Do you want to take 'em

+to-day?"</p>

+

+<p>"Would it be a convenience to you if I did?

+Are you going to give up the flat immediately?"</p>

+

+<p>"In a week."</p>

+

+<p>"Then I'll leave them a few days if you don't

+mind while I'm looking for a room. I haven't

+an idea where to go. I'm more lost here than I

+ever was in the woods; but the Fabians will

+advise me, perhaps. Mrs. Fabian has been here

+to see you, I suppose."</p>

+

+<p>Eliza's thin lips parted in a monosyllable of

+assent.</p>

+

+<p>"What a wooden Indian!" thought Phil.

+Nevertheless, being a genial soul and having<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_60" id="Page_60">[60]</a></span>

+heard Miss Brewster's faithfulness extolled, he

+talked on: "We hear about New York streets

+being canyons. They are that, and the sky-line

+is amazing; but the noise,&mdash;great heavens,

+what a racket! and I can't seem to get a

+breath."</p>

+

+<p>The young fellow rose restlessly, throwing

+back his shoulders, and paced the little room,

+filling it with his mountain stride.</p>

+

+<p>Eliza Brewster watched him. She thought of

+her mistress, and the pride and joy it would

+have been to her to receive this six feet of manhood

+under her roof.</p>

+

+<p>"She wouldn't 'a' kept her sentimental

+dreams long," reflected Eliza bitterly. "He'd

+'a' hurt her, he'd 'a' stepped on her feelin's and

+never known it. He walks as if he had spurs on

+his boots." She steeled herself against considering

+him through Mrs. Ballard's eyes. "He's

+better-lookin' than the picture," she thought,

+"and I wouldn't trust a handsome man as far

+as I could see him. They haven't any business

+with beauty and it always upsets 'em one way

+or another&mdash;yes, every time."</p>

+

+<p>Her eyes wandered to the mantelpiece whose

+bareness was relieved only by three varying

+sized pieces of blank paper. She felt the slight<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_61" id="Page_61">[61]</a></span>est

+quiver of remorse as she looked. She seemed

+to see her mistress's gentle glance filled with

+rebuke.</p>

+

+<p>She stirred in her chair, folded her arms, and

+cleared her throat.</p>

+

+<p>"You can leave the things here till I go, if

+you want to," she said.</p>

+

+<p>Phil paused in his promenade and regarded

+her. Her manner was so unmistakably inimical

+that for the first time he wondered.</p>

+

+<p>Perhaps, after all, she was not just a machine.

+And the same thought which had been entertained

+by Mrs. Fabian occurred to him.</p>

+

+<p>"Twenty-five years of faithful service," he

+reflected. "I wonder if she expected the money?

+She's sore at me. That's a cinch."</p>

+

+<p>Phil's artist nature grasped her standpoint in

+a flash. The granite face, with its signs of suffering,

+the loneliness, the poverty, all appealed to

+him to excuse her disappointment.</p>

+

+<p>His eyes swept about the bare walls.</p>

+

+<p>"Where are Aunt Mary's pictures?" he

+asked. "Was she too modest to hang them?"</p>

+

+<p>"There were some up there," replied Eliza.

+"I took 'em down."</p>

+

+<p>The visitor's quick eyes noted the white

+boards on the mantelpiece. With an unex<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_62" id="Page_62">[62]</a></span>pected

+movement, he strode across to it, and

+turned them around.</p>

+

+<p>He stood in the same position for a space.</p>

+

+<p>"Great guns, but she hates me!" he thought,

+while Eliza, startled, felt the shamed color

+stream up to her temples.</p>

+

+<p>"What would Mrs. Ballard say!" was her

+guilty reflection.</p>

+

+<p>Pluto here relieved the situation by making a

+majestic entrance. His jewel eyes fixed on the

+stranger for a moment with blinking indifference,

+then he proceeded, with measured tread,

+toward the haven of his mistress's lap.</p>

+

+<p>"Hello, Katze," said Phil, stooping his scarlet

+face. He seized the creature by the nape of

+its neck and instantly the amazed cat was

+swung up to his broad shoulder, where it sat,

+claws digging into his coat and eyes glowering

+into his own.</p>

+

+<p>"Say, charcoal would make a white mark on

+you, pussy," he went on, smoothing the creature

+in a manner which evidently found favor,

+for Pluto did not offer to stir.</p>

+

+<p>"When I'm not doing her as Medusa," he

+reflected, "I'll paint her as a witch with this

+familiar. She'll only have to look at the artist

+to get the right expression."</p>

+

+<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_63" id="Page_63">[63]</a></span></p>

+

+<p>"A distinguished visitor from the island of

+Manx, I suspect," he said aloud.</p>

+

+<p>"No," returned Eliza, still fearfully embarrassed.

+"Pluto was born right here in New

+York."</p>

+

+<p>The ever-ready stars in the visitor's eyes

+twinkled again into the green fire opposite them.</p>

+

+<p>"It was his tail I was noticing. Manx cats

+are like that."</p>

+

+<p>"Oh, that was boys. If I could 'a' caught

+'em I'd 'a' liked to cut off their arms."</p>

+

+<p>"I'll bet on that," thought Phil, "and their

+legs too."</p>

+

+<p>Eliza cleared her throat. She seemed still to

+see the gentle eyes of her lost one rebuking her.

+With utter disregard of a future state she was

+preparing a lie.</p>

+

+<p>"About those sketches," she said presently,

+and such was her hoarseness that she was

+obliged to clear her throat again, "you see,

+I was&mdash;sweepin', and I turned 'em to the

+wall."</p>

+

+<p>"Oh, yes," said Phil, and continued to

+smooth Pluto who purred lustily. "A pretty

+good one for New England," he thought; and

+carelessly turning the third card about, he came

+face to face with his own photograph.</p>

+

+<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_64" id="Page_64">[64]</a></span></p>

+

+<p>With one glance of disgust he tore the picture

+in two and threw it down.</p>

+

+<p>Eliza started. "What did you do that for?"

+she demanded sharply.</p>

+

+<p>Phil made a motion of impatience.</p>

+

+<p>"Oh, it's so darned pretty!" he explained.

+"I thought all those pictures were in the fire."</p>

+

+<p>"Mrs. Ballard set great store by that," said

+Eliza coldly, "and by the sketches, too," she

+added.</p>

+

+<p>She was sitting up stiffly in her chair, now,

+and her gaze fixed on Phil, as, her cat on his

+shoulder singing loud praise of his fondling

+hand, he came and stood before her.</p>

+

+<p>"I wish you'd let me see some of Aunt

+Mary's pictures," he said.</p>

+

+<p>The dead woman's letter was against his

+heart. He felt that they were standing together,

+opposed to the hard, grudging face

+confronting him.</p>

+

+<p>But this was Eliza's crucial moment. In spite

+of herself she feared in the depths of her heart

+that that which Mrs. Ballard had said was true;

+that this restless, careless boy had an artistic

+ability which her dear one had never attained.

+She shrank with actual nausea from his comments

+on her mistress's work. He might not<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_65" id="Page_65">[65]</a></span>

+say anything unkind, but she should see the

+lines of his mouth, the quiver of an eyelash.</p>

+

+<p>She felt unable to rise.</p>

+

+<p>"She left 'em all to me," she said mechanically,

+pale eyes meeting dark ones.</p>

+

+<p>Phil brushed Pluto's ears and the cat sang

+through the indignity.</p>

+

+<p>"Talk about the bark on a tree!" he

+thought. "I believe I'll paint her as a miser,

+after all! She'd be a wonder, with Pluto standing

+guard, green eyes peering out of the

+shadow."</p>

+

+<p>He smiled down at Eliza, the curves of his

+lips stretching over the teeth she had admired.</p>

+

+<p>"All right," he said. "I'm not going to take

+them away from you."</p>

+

+<p>Eliza forced herself to her feet, and without

+another word slowly left the room.</p>

+

+<p>Phil met the cat's blinking eyes where the

+pupils were dilating and contracting. "Katze,

+this place gives me the horrors!" he confided.</p>

+

+<p>More than once on the train he had read over

+his aunt's letter, and each time her words smote

+an answering chord in his heart and set it to

+aching.</p>

+

+<p>The present visit accentuated the perception

+of what her life had been. For a moment his<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_66" id="Page_66">[66]</a></span>

+eyes glistened wet against the cat's indolent

+contentment.</p>

+

+<p>"I wish she hadn't saved any money, the

+poor little thing," he muttered. "No friends, no

+sympathy&mdash;nothing but that avaricious piece

+of humanity, calculating every day, probably,

+on how soon she would get it all. I'll paint her

+as a harpy. That's what I'll do. Talons of

+steel! That's all she needs." He heard a sound

+and dashed a hand across his eyes.</p>

+

+<p>Eliza, heavy of heart, stony of face, entered,

+a number of pictures bound together, in her

+hands. The visitor darted forward to relieve

+her, and Pluto drove claws into his suddenly

+unsteady resting-place.</p>

+

+<p>Eliza yielded up her treasures like victims,

+and stood motionless while Phil received them.

+Never had she looked so gaunt and grey and

+old; but the visitor did not give her a glance.

+Aunt Mary's letter was beating against his

+heart. Here was the work her longing hands

+had wrought, here the thwarting of her hopes.</p>

+

+<p>His fingers were not quite steady as he untied

+the strings, and moving the easel into a good

+light placed a canvas upon it.</p>

+

+<p>Eliza did not wish to look at him, but she

+could not help it. Her pale gaze fixed on<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_67" id="Page_67">[67]</a></span>

+his face in a torture of expectation, as he

+backed away from the easel, his eyes on the

+picture.</p>

+

+<p>Pluto rubbed against his ear as a hint that

+caressing be renewed.</p>

+

+<p>He stood in silence, and Eliza could detect

+nothing like a smile on his face.</p>

+

+<p>Presently he removed the canvas, and took

+up another. It was the portrait of Pluto.</p>

+

+<p>"Hello, Katze. Got your picture took, did

+you? Aunt Mary saw your green shadows all

+right."</p>

+

+<p>He set the canvas aside, and took up another.

+Eliza's muscles ached with tension. Her bony

+hands clasped as she recognized the picture.

+To the kittens over the table in the kitchen she

+had once confided that this landscape, which

+the artist had called "Autumn," looked to her

+eyes like nothing on earth but a prairie fire!

+It had been a terrible moment of heresy. She

+was punished for it now.</p>

+

+<p>Phil backed away from the canvas, and elbow

+in his hand, rested his finger on his lips for

+what seemed to Eliza an age. Her heart

+thumped, but she could not remove her gaze

+from him.</p>

+

+<p>Pluto, finding squirming and rubbing of no<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_68" id="Page_68">[68]</a></span>

+avail, leaped to the floor and blinked reflectively

+at his mistress. A flagpole would have

+offered equal facilities for cuddling.</p>

+

+<p>He therefore made deliberate selection of the

+least unsatisfactory chair, and with noiseless

+grace took possession.</p>

+

+<p>Phil nodded. "Yes, sir," he murmured; "yes,

+sir."</p>

+

+<p>Eliza's teeth bit tighter on her suffering under

+lip. What did "Yes, sir" mean? At least he

+was not smiling.</p>

+

+<p>He went on, slightly nodding, and thinking

+aloud; "Aunt Mary was ahead of her time. She

+knew what she was after."</p>

+

+<p>Eliza tried to speak, and couldn't. Something

+clicked in her throat.</p>

+

+<p>Phil went on regarding the autumnal tangle,

+and with a superhuman effort Eliza commanded

+her tongue.</p>

+

+<p>"What was that you said, Mr. Sidney?"</p>

+

+<p>Phil, again becoming conscious of the stony

+presence, smiled a little.</p>

+

+<p>"Aunt Mary would have found sympathizers

+in Munich," he said.</p>

+

+<p>"That's Germany, ain't it?" said Eliza,

+words and breath interlocking.</p>

+

+<p>"Yes. Most of Uncle Sam's relatives want to<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_69" id="Page_69">[69]</a></span>

+see plainer what's doing; at least those who are

+able to buy pictures."</p>

+

+<p>"Ahead of her time!" gasped Eliza, her blood

+racing through her veins. "Ought to 'a' been

+in Germany!"</p>

+

+<p>And then the most amazing occurrence of

+Philip Sidney's life took place. There was a

+rush toward him, and suddenly his Medusa,

+his witch, his miser, his harpy was on her knees

+on the floor beside him, covering his hand with

+tears and kisses, and pouring out a torrent of

+words.</p>

+

+<p>"I've nearly died with dread of you, Mr.

+Sidney. Oh, why isn't she here to hear you say

+those words of her pictures! Nobody was ever

+kind to her. Her relations paid no more attention

+to her, or her work, than if she'd been a&mdash;a&mdash;I

+don't know what. She was poor, and too

+modest, and the best and sweetest creature on

+earth; and when your sketches came she admired

+'em so that I began to hate you then.

+Yes, Mr. Sidney, you was a relative, and goin'

+to be a success, and the look in her eyes when

+she saw your work killed me. It killed me!"</p>

+

+<p>"Do, do get up," said Philip, trying to raise

+her. "Don't weep so, Eliza. I understand."</p>

+

+<p>But the torrent could not yet be stemmed.</p>

+

+<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_70" id="Page_70">[70]</a></span></p>

+

+<p>"I've looked forward to your comin' like to

+an operation. I've thought you might laugh at

+her pictures, 'cause young folks are so cruel,

+and they don't know! Let me cry, Mr. Sidney.

+Don't mind! You've given me the first happy

+moment I've known since she left me. I was the

+only one she had, even to go to picture galleries

+with her, and my bones ached 'cause I was a

+stupid thing, and she had wings just like a little

+spirit o' light."</p>

+

+<p>Philip's lashes were moist again.</p>

+

+<p>"I wish I had been here to go with her," he

+said.</p>

+

+<p>Eliza lifted her streaming eyes. "Would you

+'a' gone?" she asked, and allowed Phil to raise

+her gently to her feet.</p>

+

+<p>"Indeed, I would," he answered gravely,

+"and we should have lived together, and

+worked together."</p>

+

+<p>"Oh, why couldn't it 'a' been! Why

+couldn't it 'a' been! What it would 'a' meant

+to her to have heard what you said just now

+about her pictures!"</p>

+

+<p>Phil's hands were holding Eliza's thin shoulders,

+and her famished eyes were drinking in the

+comfort of him.</p>

+

+<p>"I have an idea that we ought not to believe<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_71" id="Page_71">[71]</a></span>

+that we could make her happier than she is," he

+said, with the same gravity.</p>

+

+<p>"I know," faltered Eliza, surprised; "of

+course that's the way I ought to feel; but there

+wasn't ever anything she cared much about

+except paintin'. She"&mdash;Eliza swallowed the

+tremulous sob that was the aftermath of the

+storm&mdash;"she loved music, but she wasn't a

+performer."</p>

+

+<p>Phil smiled into the appealing face.</p>

+

+<p>"Then she's painting, for all we know," he

+said. "Do you believe music is all that goes on

+there?"</p>

+

+<p>"It's all that's mentioned," said Eliza

+apologetically.</p>

+

+<p>"I have an idea that dying doesn't change

+us any," said the young man. "Why should

+it?"</p>

+

+<p>"It didn't need to change her," agreed the

+other, her voice breaking.</p>

+

+<p>"I believe that in the end we get what we

+want."</p>

+

+<p>"That's comfortin'."</p>

+

+<p>"Not so you'd notice it," returned Phil with

+conviction. "It makes the chills run down my

+spine occasionally when I stop to realize it."</p>

+

+<p>"What do you mean?"</p>

+

+<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_72" id="Page_72">[72]</a></span></p>

+

+<p>"Only that we had better examine what

+we're wanting; and choose something that

+won't go back on us. Aunt Mary did; and I

+believe she had a strong faith."</p>

+

+<p>"We never talked religion," said Eliza.</p>

+

+<p>"Just lived it. That's better."</p>

+

+<p>"I didn't," returned Eliza, a spark of the old

+belligerency flashing in her faded eyes. "I can't

+think of one single enemy that I love!"</p>

+

+<p>"You were everything to Aunt Mary. Do

+you suppose I shall ever forget that?"</p>

+

+<p>"I sat down in front o' those pictures in the

+Metropolitan Museum," said Eliza, her lips

+trembling again. "It's awful big, and I got so

+tuckered, the pictures sort o' ran together till

+I didn't know a landscape from a portrait.

+Then I used to take on over somethin' that had

+a seat in front of it, and she'd leave me sittin'

+there starin'. Oh, Mr. Sidney, I can't think o'

+one other mean thing I ever did to her,"&mdash;remorseful

+grief shook the speaker's voice,&mdash;"but

+I'd ought to 'a' stood up to the end. It

+would 'a' showed more interest!"</p>

+

+<p>Phil squeezed the spare shoulders as they

+heaved. He laughed a little.</p>

+

+<p>"Now, Eliza, whatever way you managed it,

+I know you made her happy."</p>

+

+<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_73" id="Page_73">[73]</a></span></p>

+

+<p>"Yes," groaned the repentant one, "she said

+my artistic soul was wakin' up. Do you s'pose

+where she is now she knows it was black

+deceit?"</p>

+

+<p>"She knows nothing black where she is,"&mdash;Phil's

+voice rang with decision; "but she does

+know more than ever about love and sacrifice

+such as you have shown her. Beside," in a

+lighter tone, "how about your artistic soul? See

+how far above everybody else you understood

+her pictures."</p>

+

+<p>Eliza's hungry gaze became suddenly inscrutable.

+"Mr. Sidney," she began, after a

+pause, "I loved every stroke her dear hand

+made, but"&mdash;again pain crept into the breaking

+voice&mdash;"you said yourself America wasn't

+worthy of her, and I'm only what you might

+call the scum of America when it comes to

+<em>insight</em> and&mdash;and <em>expression</em> and&mdash;and <em>atmosphere</em>.

+Usually I had sense enough to wait

+till she told me what a thing was before I talked

+about it; but one day, I can't ever forget it, I

+praised a flock o' sheep at the back of a field

+she was doin' and she said they was&mdash;was

+cows!"</p>

+

+<p>Sobs rent the speaker and she covered her

+eyes.</p>

+

+<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_74" id="Page_74">[74]</a></span></p>

+

+<p>"I told her&mdash;'twas my glasses," she went

+on when she could speak. "I&mdash;told her they&mdash;hadn't

+been right for&mdash;a long time. She

+laughed&mdash;and tried to make a joke of it,

+but&mdash;"</p>

+

+<p>Eliza's voice was drowned in the flood.</p>

+

+<p>Phil patted her shoulders and smiled across

+the bowed head at the forlorn mantelpiece,

+where the sketches, unconscious of forgiveness,

+still turned faces toward the wall.</p>

+

+<p>"You've grown awfully morbid, alone here,"

+he said, giving her a little shake. "You should

+be only thankful, as I am, that Aunt Mary had

+you and that you were here to take care of her

+to the end. Come and sit down. She wrote me a

+wonderful letter. I have it in my pocket and

+I'll show it to you."</p>

+

+<p>Eliza obediently yielded herself to be guided

+to a chair. Pluto had selected the best with unerring

+instinct; and suddenly into his feline

+dreams an earthquake intruded as Phil tossed

+him lightly to the floor.</p>

+

+<p>Drawing his chair close to Eliza, who had

+wilted back against the faded cretonne roses,

+the young man drew from his pocket an envelope

+and took out of it a letter, and a small card

+photograph.</p>

+

+<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_75" id="Page_75">[75]</a></span></p>

+

+<p>"Mother gave me this old picture of Aunt

+Mary&mdash;"</p>

+

+<p>Eliza pulled herself up and took it eagerly.

+"I must get my glasses," she said. "I've cried

+myself nearly blind."</p>

+

+<p>Phil's big hand pushed her back.</p>

+

+<p>"I'll get them," he returned. "Where are

+they?"</p>

+

+<p>"There, on the end o' the mantelpiece. I had

+'em, readin' an advertisement."</p>

+

+<p>She leaned back again and watched him as he

+crossed the room; watched him with wonder.

+In years she had not so given her confidence to a

+human being.</p>

+

+<p>She put on the spectacles and wistfully regarded

+the picture of a pretty woman whose

+heavy braids, wound around her head, caught

+the light. Her plain dress was white and she

+wore black velvet bands on her wrists.</p>

+

+<p>"Aunt Mary was considered different by her

+friends, mother says. In a time of frills she

+liked plain things."</p>

+

+<p>"I guess she <em>was</em> different," agreed Eliza

+devoutly. "Would you think a man who married

+her would like whiskey better?"</p>

+

+<p>Phil shook his head. "Sorry," he said,

+laconically.</p>

+

+<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_76" id="Page_76">[76]</a></span></p>

+

+<p>"One good thing, he drank himself to death

+quick and left her free."</p>

+

+<p>Phil held out the letter.</p>

+

+<p>"Read it to me, please, Mr. Sidney."</p>

+

+<p>"Can't do it," returned the young man with

+cheerful frankness. "It makes my nose tingle

+every time."</p>

+

+<p>So Eliza read the letter in silence. It took her

+some minutes and when she had finished, her lip

+caught between her teeth, she took off her

+glasses and wiped them while she regarded Phil.</p>

+

+<p>"And you've got to live up to that," she

+said.</p>

+

+<p>"I'm going to try," he answered simply.</p>

+

+<p>Eliza gazed at him, her hands in her lap. She

+felt old beside his youth, weak beside his

+strength, ignorant beside that knowledge which

+had stirred her mistress to exaltation. Nevertheless,

+the humble love, and desire to help him

+that swelled her heart was a new desire to live, a

+consecration.</p>

+

+<p>Presently he took his leave, promising to

+return in a few days for his belongings.</p>

+

+<p>After the door had closed behind him, she

+looked down at the cat, who had awakened

+from another nap at the stir of the departure.</p>

+

+<p>He rubbed against her brown calico skirt as<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_77" id="Page_77">[77]</a></span>

+she lighted the gas; then she moved thoughtfully

+to the mantelpiece and turned the

+sketches about.</p>

+

+<p>"Mary Sidney," she mused, looking at the

+graceful head of Phil's mother, "you've had

+your heartache, and your sacrifices. You've

+been most pulled in two, between longin' to

+stay with your husband and follow your son&mdash;you

+told me somethin' of it in your note

+thankin' for the brooch. Nobody escapes,

+Mary Sidney. I guess I haven't done you

+justice, seein' you've raised a boy like that."</p>

+

+<p>Turning to the sketch of the storm-beaten

+tree, she clasped her hands before it. "Dear

+one," she mused tenderly, "you loved him.

+You was great. You died not knowin' how

+great you were; and you won't care if I do

+understand this kind better, 'cause all America's

+too ignorant for you, and I'm one o' the worst."</p>

+

+<p>Her eyes dwelt lingeringly on the sketch. She

+fancied she could hear the wind whistling

+through the writhing branches. "It looks like

+my life," she thought, "risin' out o' the mist

+and the cloud."</p>

+

+<p>She gazed at it in silence, then turned to the

+destroyed photograph. She seized the pieces

+quickly and turned them face up. The rent had<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_78" id="Page_78">[78]</a></span>

+missed the chin and cut across the collar. She

+regarded the face wistfully. The cat stretched

+his forepaws up her skirt until he was of a preternatural

+length. It was supper-time.</p>

+

+<p>"I wonder, Pluto," she said slowly, "if I

+couldn't fit that into a minicher frame. Some

+of 'em come real reasonable."</p>

+

+<hr class="chap" />

+

+<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_79" id="Page_79">[79]</a></span></p>

+

+

+

+

+<div class="chapter">

+<h2>CHAPTER V</h2>

+</div>

+

+<p class="ph3">ELIZA'S INVITATION</p>

+

+

+<p>For the first time since she had been left alone,

+Eliza drank her tea that night without tears;

+and no lump in her throat prevented her

+swallowing the egg she had boiled.</p>

+

+<p>She held Mrs. Ballard's watch in her hand a

+minute before getting into bed; and looked long

+at its gold face, and listened to its loud and busy

+ticking.</p>

+

+<p>"Forgive me, Mrs. Ballard," she thought;

+and association added, "as we forgive our

+debtors!"</p>

+

+<p>"No, I can't!" she muttered fiercely. "I

+can't! What's the use o' pretendin'!"</p>

+

+<p>Muffling the watch in its slipper, she turned

+out the gas and got into bed. Composing herself

+to sleep more peacefully than she had been

+able to do for many a night, her last thought

+was of Mrs. Ballard's heir; and a sense of comfort

+stole over her in the very fact of his existence.

+Again she seemed to feel the sympathetic

+pressure of his kind hand.</p>

+

+<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_80" id="Page_80">[80]</a></span></p>

+

+<p>"He thinks she may be paintin' still," she

+reflected. "She's got colors to work with that's

+most blindin', they're so gorgeous, if we can

+judge anything by the sunsets at the island.

+Why not think so! It's just as reasonable as

+playin' harps, for all I can see."</p>

+

+<p>Ever since her dear one's passing, Eliza had

+felt too crushed and too wicked to pray; and

+being unable to say the whole of her Lord's

+Prayer, her New England conscience would not

+allow her to say any of it; but to-night a sense

+of hope and gratitude lightened the darkness,

+and a new gentleness crept over her countenance

+as it relaxed its lines in slumber.</p>

+

+<p>She wakened next morning without the load

+of despair on her heart; and slowly realized

+what had changed her outlook. She even

+smiled at the cat, who had leaped up on the foot

+of her bed. He understood that he might come

+no nearer.</p>

+

+<p>"Every single mornin', Pluto, I've been

+dreadin' that the day had come I'd got to show

+her pictures to him. Well, that's over."</p>

+

+<p>"Meow!" remarked Pluto, commenting on

+the selfishness of beings who overslept.</p>

+

+<p>"Yes, I know what you want." Eliza turned

+her head wearily on the pillow. "'Weak as a<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_81" id="Page_81">[81]</a></span>

+cat'! I don't think much o' that expression. I

+notice you're strong enough to get everything

+you want. Oh, dear, I wonder if I'll ever feel

+like myself again!"</p>

+

+<p>The cat jumped to the floor, and coming to

+the head of the bed sat down and regarded the

+haggard face reproachfully.</p>

+

+<p>"You're just as handsome as a picture,

+Pluto," mused Eliza aloud. "I don't know

+as it's ever made you any worse 'n common

+cats."</p>

+

+<p>This optimistic change of heart lightened the

+atmosphere of the cheerless kitchen that morning;

+and Eliza drew up the shade, which let the

+sun slant in past a neighboring roof for a short

+half-hour.</p>

+

+<p>A beam struck the kittens frisking above the

+kitchen table, and they seemed to spring from

+the shadowy gloom of their corner, flinging their

+little paws about with the infantine glee which

+had first captivated their owner.</p>

+

+<p>"Oh, yes, you can dance, still," she murmured,

+addressing them reproachfully; but she

+left the shade up.</p>

+

+<p>It was nearly noon when her doorbell rang

+again. Eliza hastened to the glass. She had on

+her black alpaca to-day. Sweeping-cap and<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_82" id="Page_82">[82]</a></span>

+apron were remanded to their corner, and she

+made certain that her hair was smooth, then

+went to the speaking-tube.</p>

+

+<p>"Yes?" she said, and listened for the possible

+voice of yesterday; but a woman's tones put the

+question:&mdash;</p>

+

+<p>"Is this Mrs. Ballard's apartment?"</p>

+

+<p>"Yes," replied Eliza briefly.</p>

+

+<p>"Is this Eliza Brewster?" again asked the

+sweet voice.</p>

+

+<p>"It is," came the non-committal admission.</p>

+

+<p>"May I come up, Eliza? It's Mrs. Wright."</p>

+

+<p>"Mrs. who?"</p>

+

+<p>"Mrs. Wright. Don't you remember my

+spending the day with Mrs. Ballard last spring,

+just before I went to Brewster's Island?"</p>

+

+<p>"Oh, Mrs. Wright!" exclaimed Eliza in a

+different tone. "Excuse me for keepin' you

+waitin'. Come right up."</p>

+

+<p>Well Eliza recalled the enjoyment of her dear

+one in that visit of an old friend, rarely seen.

+Mrs. Ballard's social pleasures were so few, this

+day gleamed as a bright spot in memory; and,

+not content with opening wide the door, Eliza

+went out to the head of the stairs to receive the

+mounting figure.</p>

+

+<p>"<em>She</em> stood here the last time," she said<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_83" id="Page_83">[83]</a></span>

+brokenly, as the visitor reached her and held

+out both hands to receive Eliza's.</p>

+

+<p>The newcomer's silver-white hair made an

+aureole about the face that looked with kindly

+eyes into the other's dim ones.</p>

+

+<p>"I was just thinking of that as I saw you

+waiting," she said. "It was a shock to me to

+learn that Mrs. Ballard had left us. Was it very

+sudden, Eliza?"</p>

+

+<p>The latter could not trust herself to speak.

+She nodded and ushered Mrs. Wright into the

+living-room, where they both sat down, the

+visitor's heart touched by the mourner's altered

+countenance, and the evident struggle she was

+making not to give way. Her compassion

+showed in her gentle face and Eliza made a brave

+effort to smile.</p>

+

+<p>"I know I'm a sight, Mrs. Wright," she faltered.

+"I've never been any hand to cry, but

+I've nearly washed the eyes out o' my head the

+past week. I don't expect anybody to know what

+I've lost." Her lips twitched and she bit them

+hard.</p>

+

+<p>"I can very well imagine," returned the

+other, "for Mrs. Ballard spoke so warmly

+of you to me, and told me how many

+years your fortunes had been cast together.<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_84" id="Page_84">[84]</a></span>

+She said you were the mainspring of the

+house."</p>

+

+<p>"Thank you, Mrs. Wright," said Eliza humbly.

+"Yes, I saw that she ate and slept right.

+Her interests were where I couldn't follow

+'cause I didn't know enough; but she was the

+mainspring o' my life. It's broken, broken. I

+haven't got the energy to lift a finger, nor a

+thing to live for. Honestly, Mrs. Wright,"

+added Eliza in a burst of despair, "if 't wa'n't

+for the commonness of a Brewster bein' found

+so disrespectable as dead in a New York flat,

+and strange folks layin' their hands on me, I

+wouldn't 'a' lived through some o' the nights

+I've had since she went away. I'd lay there

+and try to think o' one single person it'd

+make any difference to, and there ain't one."</p>

+

+<p>"My dear," returned Mrs. Wright, regarding

+the haggard face, "how about your relatives on

+the island?"</p>

+

+<p>Eliza shook her head. "The only folks o'

+mine that are left are '-in-laws,' or else cousins

+I've scarcely heard from for twenty-five years.

+They haven't troubled themselves about me,

+and if I'd 'a' walked out that way, they'd

+only 'a' said I'd ought to be ashamed o' myself."</p>

+

+<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_85" id="Page_85">[85]</a></span></p>

+

+<p>"And so you ought," said Mrs. Wright with

+her gentle smile.</p>

+

+<p>"Well, I didn't anyway," said Eliza wearily.

+"Did you stay at the island all summer?"</p>

+

+<p>"Yes, and I'm still there. May I take off my

+coat, Eliza?"</p>

+

+<p>The hostess started up with sudden recollection.</p>

+

+<p>"I hope you'll excuse me, Mrs. Wright; if I

+ever had any manners they're gone."</p>

+

+<p>Slipping off the coat, and relinquishing it into

+Eliza's hands, the visitor went on talking. "My

+husband gave up business a couple of years ago.

+Perhaps Mrs. Ballard has told you that he was

+never a successful business man." Mrs. Wright

+stifled a sigh under a bright smile. "Nobody

+can be well and idle long, you know, so the next

+thing he began to be ailing, the dear man, and

+he thought the sea would do him good; and, my

+dear Eliza, it has done him so much good that

+we have become islanders."</p>

+

+<p>"You don't mean you're going to stay

+there?"</p>

+

+<p>The visitor nodded the silvery aureole of her

+hair.</p>

+

+<p>"That is what I mean. Mr. Wright went

+fishing all summer and he thinks he has found<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_86" id="Page_86">[86]</a></span>

+his niche in life. He has not been so well and

+happy in years."</p>

+

+<p>"You'll stay all winter?" asked Eliza

+incredulously.</p>

+

+<p>"Yes," the visitor smiled again, "and all the

+winters, so far as I know. Mr. Wright is perfectly

+content."</p>

+

+<p>"How about you?" asked Eliza briefly. She

+had gone back to her chair and frowned unconsciously

+into the peaceful face regarding her.</p>

+

+<p>"Oh!" Mrs. Wright raised her eyebrows and

+gave her head a slight shake. "'In my father's

+house are many mansions!' I like to feel that it

+is all His house, even now, and that wherever

+I may live He is there, so why should I be

+lonely?"</p>

+

+<p>Listening to these words, it seemed to Eliza

+as if some lamp, kept burning on the altar of

+this woman's soul, sent its steady light into the

+peaceful eyes regarding her.</p>

+

+<p>"It's a good thing you can get comfort that

+way," she responded, rather awkwardly. "I

+know it must 'a' been a struggle to consent to it&mdash;any

+one used to a big city like Boston. What

+does your niece say to it?"</p>

+

+<p>"Violet was with me a while. I am visiting

+her here now."</p>

+

+<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_87" id="Page_87">[87]</a></span></p>

+

+<p>"She teaches, don't she?&mdash;the languages, or

+something?" inquired Eliza vaguely.</p>

+

+<p>"No, gymnastic dancing and other branches

+of physical culture. She works hard, and no

+place ever rested her like the island, she

+thought. Do you remember Jane Foster?"</p>

+

+<p>The corners of Eliza's mouth drew down in a

+smiling grimace of recollection.</p>

+

+<p>"Do I remember Jennie Foster!" she said.

+"We grew up together."</p>

+

+<p>"Well, she keeps a boarding-house in Portland

+now in winters and comes to the old

+home, summers. We boarded with her, and

+now, instead of closing up the place, she has

+rented it to me."</p>

+

+<p>Eliza shook her head. "Pretty high up," she

+commented. "Some o' those February gales

+will pretty near shave you off the hill."</p>

+

+<p>"A good many husky generations have been

+brought up and gone forth into the world out

+of that house," said Mrs. Wright cheerfully.

+"There are some trees, you know. Do you

+remember the apple orchard?"</p>

+

+<p>"Huh!" commented Eliza. "I know how the

+scrawny little things look when they're bare!

+A lot o' shelter they'll be."</p>

+

+<p>Mrs. Wright dropped her head a little to one<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_88" id="Page_88">[88]</a></span>

+side and her kind grey eyes rested on Eliza's

+grief-scarred face. "I'm glad I came to see

+you," she said irrelevantly.</p>

+

+<p>"I'm a kind of a Job's comforter, I'm afraid.

+When I've thought of anything the past fortnight

+I've thought about Brewster's Island,&mdash;a

+sort of a counter-irritant, I guess."</p>

+

+<p>"No, no, we can't have that. You mustn't

+call the Blessed Isle by such a name."</p>

+

+<p>"Perhaps it won't be such a Blessed Isle

+after you've spent a winter there," remarked

+Eliza drily.</p>

+

+<p>Mrs. Wright smiled. "I know it was your

+native place, and I hoped you might have

+pleasant associations with it."</p>

+

+<p>Eliza sighed wearily. "Yes, if I could be

+twelve years old again, and go coastin' and

+skatin', and when it was dark tumble into bed

+under the eaves with a hot bag o' sand to keep

+the sheets from freezin' me, I should like it, I

+s'pose. I used to; but nobody on that snow-covered

+hill cares whether I'm alive or dead,

+and that cruel black ocean that swallowed up

+my father one night, and killed my mother,

+<em>that</em> roarin' around the island in the freezin' gale

+is the only thing I can see and hear when I

+think of the winter."</p>

+

+<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_89" id="Page_89">[89]</a></span></p>

+

+<p>"Then you have been thinking of going back

+to the island?"</p>

+

+<p>"Well, it's either that or goin' into somebody's

+kitchen, here." Eliza's mouth twitched

+grimly. "Mrs. Fabian offered me a recommendation."</p>

+

+<p>"Oh, yes. The Fabians were very kind to

+Violet this summer."</p>

+

+<p>"You don't say so! I'm glad they can be

+kind to somebody."</p>

+

+<p>The bitterness of Eliza's tone impressed her

+visitor. "Mrs. Ballard was Mrs. Fabian's aunt,

+I believe," she ventured.</p>

+

+<p>"I believe so, too," said Eliza, "but nothing

+she ever did proved it."</p>

+

+<p>Mrs. Wright veered away from dangerous

+ground. "I have been thinking of you a great

+deal since I learned of Mrs. Ballard's going,

+and I wanted at least to see you before I went

+back." There was a little pause, then she

+added: "It occurred to me that you might be

+going home to the island&mdash;"</p>

+

+<p>"I haven't any home there," interrupted

+Eliza stoically.</p>

+

+<p>"&mdash;and I was going to ask you, in that case,

+if you wouldn't eat your Thanksgiving dinner

+with me."</p>

+

+<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_90" id="Page_90">[90]</a></span></p>

+

+<p>Eliza looked at her visitor, startled.</p>

+

+<p>"Think of me," she said slowly, "eatin' a

+Thanksgivin' dinner&mdash;anywhere."</p>

+

+<p>Mrs. Wright felt a pang at her heart under

+the desolation of the voice. It seemed the voice

+of the forlorn room in which they sat. She rose

+to hide the look in her eyes, and moving to the

+mantel took up the sketches that stood there.</p>

+

+<p>"Are these interesting things Mrs. Ballard's

+work?" she asked.</p>

+

+<p>Eliza was clutching the meagre arms of her

+chair until her knuckles whitened. How fate

+was softening toward her! The thought that

+this friend of her lost one would have her own

+hearth on the dreaded island warmed the winter

+prospect. A link with Mrs. Ballard. A friend

+with whom she might talk of her. The rift made

+yesterday in her submerging clouds widened.</p>

+

+<p>"Mrs. Wright," she said, unheeding the

+visitor's question, "you're religious, I know,

+'cause you quoted the Bible, and 'cause you

+take cheerfully bein' buried in a snowdrift on

+Brewster's Island instead of havin' the things

+you're accustomed to. So I want you to know

+before you invite me to have Thanksgivin'

+dinner with you that I'm the wickedest woman

+in New York. I haven't said a prayer since<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_91" id="Page_91">[91]</a></span>

+Mrs. Ballard died. I hate Mrs. Fabian for her

+neglect of her, and I did hate the young man

+Mrs. Ballard left her little bit o' money to."</p>

+

+<p>Mrs. Wright, holding the sketch of Mary

+Sidney, turned and looked at the speaker.</p>

+

+<p>"Hated him 'cause he was an artist, and I

+didn't believe he'd appreciate her work, but

+just spend her savings careless. That's his mother

+you've got in your hand, and that's

+him, layin' on the mantelpiece torn across the

+middle."</p>

+

+<p>Eliza's aspect as she talked was wild. Mrs.

+Wright picked up the torn pieces and fitted

+them together. In fancy she saw Eliza rending

+the card. She felt that she understood all; the

+heart-break, the starvation fare of tea, tears,

+and misery, and the blank future.</p>

+

+<p>"His name's Philip Sidney, and his mother

+was Mrs. Ballard's niece and namesake. Yesterday

+he came. He was altogether different

+from what I expected. He took a load off o' my

+mind and heart. I don't begrudge him anything."</p>

+

+<p>"You're sorry, then, that you tore this

+handsome picture."</p>

+

+<p>"Oh, I didn't&mdash;'cause Mrs. Ballard set

+such store by it. I only turned it to the wall.<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_92" id="Page_92">[92]</a></span>

+'Twas he tore it. He said it was too pretty

+or something. He does look different. The

+picture's kind o' dreamin' lookin' and he's so

+awake he&mdash;well, he sparkles."</p>

+

+<p>Mrs. Wright smiled at the haggard speaker.</p>

+

+<p>"I'm so glad you like him. Has he come to

+New York to study?"</p>

+

+<p>"Yes; he had to be a mining engineer when

+he wanted to paint. So now he's goin' to study

+with Mrs. Ballard's money."</p>

+

+<p>"Why&mdash;I remember," said Mrs. Wright,

+thoughtfully regarding the sketches. "Mrs.

+Ballard told me about him in the spring." She

+looked up again at her hostess. "You've been

+through a great deal, Eliza," she said, "and

+you've tried to go alone."</p>

+

+<p>"I had to go alone," returned Eliza fiercely;

+"but I can be honest if I am lonely and I won't

+sit down at your table without your knowin'

+that I'm a sinner. Don't talk religion to me

+either," she added, "'cause I ain't the kind it

+would do any good to."</p>

+

+<p>Mrs. Wright came back to her chair and her

+eyes were thoughtful.</p>

+

+<p>"I have a better idea still," she said. "For

+how long have you this apartment?"</p>

+

+<p>"One week more."</p>

+

+<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_93" id="Page_93">[93]</a></span></p>

+

+<p>"Oh, only a week. Then, supposing you

+come and live with me this winter."</p>

+

+<p>Eliza leaned back in her chair, speechless.

+The grey wall of the future slowly dissolved.

+The possibility of friendship&mdash;of a home&mdash;was

+actually unnerving in its contrast to all she

+had steeled herself to endure.</p>

+

+<p>"Come and help me, Eliza," went on the

+gentle voice. "Show me how to meet an island

+winter. I believe between us we can make a

+cosy sort of season of it."</p>

+

+<p>"Cosy!" echoed Eliza's dry lips.</p>

+

+<p>"Yes. There by the gnarled little apple trees,

+handicapped by winter winds, and the forlorn

+little chicken-house that stands near the orchard.

+Do you remember that?"</p>

+

+<p>"Yes," answered Eliza mechanically.

+"'T wa'n't always a chicken-house. Polly

+Ann Foster built it 'cause she quarrelled with

+her son and wouldn't live with him. I was

+a little girl and we were all scared of her.

+When she died they began using it for the

+hens."</p>

+

+<p>"Well, it's empty and forlorn now. Miss

+Foster can't keep chickens and go back to Portland

+every fall. That's our only near neighbor,

+you remember."</p>

+

+<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_94" id="Page_94">[94]</a></span></p>

+

+<p>"I remember. Why should you be such an

+angel to me?" burst forth Eliza.</p>

+

+<p>"Is that being an angel? Why, I'm so glad.

+You know I might be a little bit lonely at the

+island. Mr. Wright is pretty sleepy in the

+evening and the house rambles. We'll shut up

+part of it, Eliza, won't we?"</p>

+

+<p>"Oh, Mrs. Wright!" exclaimed the lonely

+woman, every trace of her fierceness gone.

+"What a godsend you're givin' me."</p>

+

+<p>"Then it's settled; and Violet will be so glad.

+She isn't quite pleased with our plan for the

+winter."</p>

+

+<hr class="chap" />

+

+<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_95" id="Page_95">[95]</a></span></p>

+

+

+

+

+<div class="chapter">

+<h2>CHAPTER VI</h2>

+</div>

+

+<p class="ph3">BROTHER AND SISTER</p>

+

+

+<p>Kathleen Fabian sat at her desk, deeply engrossed

+in the theme she was writing, when

+her brother's name was brought to her.</p>

+

+<p>The expression of her face as she took the

+card did not indicate that the surprise was

+wholly joyous. She frowned and bit her lip, and

+an anxious look grew in her eyes as she went out

+into the hall to meet the visitor, who advanced

+with bounds, and grasped her in one arm, giving

+her cheek a brotherly peck.</p>

+

+<p>"What has happened, Edgar?" she asked as

+he led her back into her room.</p>

+

+<p>"I've come to see you, that's all," was the

+rejoinder.</p>

+

+<p>Edgar Fabian was an airy youth, carefully

+arrayed in the height of fashion. His fair hair

+was brushed until it reflected the light, and

+his jaunty assurance was wont to carry all before

+it.</p>

+

+<p>"Is anything wrong at home?" insisted his

+sister.</p>

+

+<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_96" id="Page_96">[96]</a></span></p>

+

+<p>"Certainly not."</p>

+

+<p>They were now inside the room and the

+young man closed the door.</p>

+

+<p>"Well, I haven't any money," said Kathleen

+bluntly,&mdash;"at least, not for you!"</p>

+

+<p>Edgar was but little taller than she, and, as

+she looked at him now, her serious slender face

+opposed to his boyish one, her peculiar slow

+speech, in which her teeth scarcely closed,

+sounding lazy beside his crispness, she seemed

+the elder of the two.</p>

+

+<p>"This leaping at conclusions is too feminine a

+weakness for you to indulge in, Kath," was the

+rejoinder as the visitor slid out of a silk-lined

+overcoat; but he rested his gaze upon his sister's

+dark hair rather than the eyes beneath. "I like

+your hospitality," he added. "I hope it isn't

+presumption for me to remove my coat. Try to

+control your joy when your brother comes up

+from New York to see you."</p>

+

+<p>"Of course I should always be glad to see you

+if&mdash;if you'd let me," was the reply.</p>

+

+<p>"What's to prevent?" inquired the visitor

+cheerfully.</p>

+

+<p>"My diary," was the laconic response.</p>

+

+<p>"Oh, you make me tired," said Edgar, taking

+out a cigarette-case. "May I?"</p>

+

+<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_97" id="Page_97">[97]</a></span></p>

+

+<p>"No," returned Kathleen, speaking with her

+characteristic deliberation.</p>

+

+<p>"You may have one, too"; he offered his

+case, still standing, since she did not sit. He

+smiled as he said it; the evenness of his teeth

+and the glee of his smile had melted much ice

+before now.</p>

+

+<p>"No, thanks," she answered coldly.</p>

+

+<p>He gave an exclamation.</p>

+

+<p>"Oh, your grave and reverend senior airs

+won't go down with me, you know." He

+sniffed suspiciously. "Some one has been having

+a whiff here this morning."</p>

+

+<p>"It wasn't I."</p>

+

+<p>"Well, it was somebody; and some one more

+critical than I is liable to drop in here and notice

+it. Just to save you trouble, I'll light up. Better

+take one. It's your golden opportunity."</p>

+

+<p>Again he offered the case, and now Kathleen

+took a cigarette mechanically. She still questioned

+her brother's debonair countenance.</p>

+

+<p>"Well," he said impatiently, after a moment

+of silence, "are we going to stand here until

+dinner-time like two tenpins?"</p>

+

+<p>"Are you going to stay until dinner-time?"</p>

+

+<p>"Why," with another effort at gayety, "if

+you go on like this and positively won't take no<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_98" id="Page_98">[98]</a></span>

+for an answer, perhaps I shall be obliged to.

+Say, Kath, what's the matter with you? You

+used to be a good fellow. College has ruined

+you. I didn't treat you like this when you came

+to see me."</p>

+

+<p>"Forgive me, Edgar," Kathleen's drawl became

+very nearly an exclamation. "I was

+thinking so hard."</p>

+

+<p>She dropped into a chair and he lighted his

+cigarette, and bending forward allowed her to

+draw the flame into her own.</p>

+

+<p>"Now, this is something like it," remarked

+the young man, sinking upon a leather-covered

+divan. He picked up a guitar that lay at its

+head, and strummed lightly upon it. "Think of

+your giving house-room to anything so light-minded

+as a guitar!" he added, his disapproving

+eyes roving about the entire apartment. "This

+room looks more like a hermit's cell every time

+I come."</p>

+

+<p>"No," rejoined Kathleen, with her soft laziness

+of speech, and blowing a ring of smoke

+upon the air, "it is only that you have time to

+forget between your visits."</p>

+

+<p>Edgar removed his cigarette and began to

+murmur "The Owl and the Pussy Cat," in a

+tenor voice calculated to pour oil on troubled<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_99" id="Page_99">[99]</a></span>

+waters, while he struck the accompanying

+chords with a sure touch.</p>

+

+<div class="poetry-container"><div class="poetry"><div class="stanza">

+    <div class="verse">"They took some honey, and plenty of money,</div>

+    <div class="verse">Wrapped up in a five-pound note!"</div>

+</div></div></div>

+

+<p>he sang. "Think of it!" he groaned, pausing to

+save the life of his cigarette; "plenty of money!

+Who wouldn't be an owl or a pussy-cat!"</p>

+

+<p>Kathleen's eyes narrowed.</p>

+

+<p>"You speak of the rarity of my visits," he

+went on. "I suppose you think it is nothing to

+take a few hours out of a business day to run up

+here."</p>

+

+<p>Kathleen smiled. "On the contrary, I think

+it so much of a thing that it always startles me

+to get your card on a week day, and you seem to

+have other uses for your Sundays."</p>

+

+<p>"Very well," returned her brother, strumming

+the guitar with conscious rectitude;

+"know then that the Administration sent me

+up here to-day on business."</p>

+

+<p>"With me?"</p>

+

+<p>"No" (singing)&mdash;</p>

+

+<p>

+'Drink to me only with thine eyes, and I will pledge&mdash;'"

+</p>

+

+<p>"Edgar!" protested the girl lazily, "it's too

+early in the day for that."</p>

+

+<p>"Hello, grave and reverend senior," he re<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_100" id="Page_100">[100]</a></span>torted.

+"I didn't know you were so much of a

+connoisseur."</p>

+

+<p>The girl's reply had a sad note.</p>

+

+<p>"I wish you would do something with that

+voice," she said.</p>

+

+<p>The singer smiled. He was now smoking

+again, and strumming the melody of the song.

+Perhaps he was thinking that he had done a

+good deal with his voice.</p>

+

+<p>"I don't know that it has been altogether

+wasted," he replied.</p>

+

+<p>"Carrying off the honors as the singing-girl

+in a college play isn't what I mean."</p>

+

+<p>"Oh, I'm sure it isn't," scoffed the possessor

+of the voice. "I'd take long odds that what you

+mean involves something that would come

+under the head of work spelled with a capital

+W&mdash;"</p>

+

+<p>"Think of a <em>man butterfly</em>!" ejaculated Kathleen,

+removing her cigarette and her drawl

+for an unwonted verbal explosion. "Edgar, <em>I</em>

+should have been the man, and you the girl in

+our family."</p>

+

+<p>"I should object," he rejoined calmly, all his

+attention apparently concentrated on the compassing

+of some intricate fingering of the guitar

+strings.</p>

+

+<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_101" id="Page_101">[101]</a></span></p>

+

+<p>"Think of your rooms at college and this!"

+went on Kathleen.</p>

+

+<p>"I'd like mighty well to have a squint at the

+loved and lost to take the taste of this out of my

+mouth," returned the visitor imperturbably.</p>

+

+<p>"How is father?" asked Kathleen, relapsing

+into her usual manner.</p>

+

+<p>"Smaht," rejoined Edgar.</p>

+

+<p>At the reminder of Brewster's Island, Kathleen's

+eyes smiled, then grew grave. "I can't

+bear to have you call father the Administration,"

+she said.</p>

+

+<p>"Why not?&mdash;you didn't want me to call

+him Governor."</p>

+

+<p>"It sounds so&mdash;so disrespectful."</p>

+

+<p>"Not to me. I think it suggests salaams."</p>

+

+<p>"No, Edgar&mdash;slams; but I don't want to

+joke."</p>

+

+<p>"I'm sure of it," interpolated the guitar-playing

+one.</p>

+

+<p>"Stop that noise a minute, please."</p>

+

+<p>He obeyed.</p>

+

+<p>"I wish you wouldn't speak of father so

+coldly."</p>

+

+<p>"Then it'll be likely to be hotly, and at

+that you'd make a fuss," returned the youth

+doggedly.</p>

+

+<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_102" id="Page_102">[102]</a></span></p>

+

+<p>"He is a good father," declared the girl, the

+lingering words coming devoutly.</p>

+

+<p>"Yes," retorted Edgar drily. "Perhaps, if

+your little day-dream could come true and you

+be the son, you wouldn't think so."</p>

+

+<p>"I believe it is father's fault largely," said

+Kathleen. "He began by spoiling you."</p>

+

+<p>"Then, if I'm spoiled, what's the use of

+kicking?&mdash;and if he's done it he must pay for

+it; but that's just what he won't do&mdash;pay for

+it."</p>

+

+<p>The speaker stubbed the light out of his

+cigarette and tossed it on the table. He rose

+and walked the floor.</p>

+

+<p>"He has put you in his office," said Kathleen.

+"He will give you every chance to rise."</p>

+

+<p>"Yes, and meanwhile pays me a salary

+smaller than the allowance he gave me at

+college."</p>

+

+<p>"Because," said the girl, "he found that you

+couldn't even keep within that. He knew you

+must wake up."</p>

+

+<p>"What occasion?" demanded Edgar, standing

+still to gesture. "I'm the only son. Look at

+the money he has."</p>

+

+<p>"And has worked for; <em>worked</em> for, Edgar.

+Can't you understand? Supposing you had<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_103" id="Page_103">[103]</a></span>

+worked like that, and had a son who dipped into

+the bag with both hands and threw your money

+away."</p>

+

+<p>"I don't want to throw it away. I get one

+hundred cents' worth of fun out of every dollar

+I spend. What more does he want? I didn't

+ask to be born, did I? I didn't ask to have

+expensive tastes. Why should I have to ride in

+a taxicab?"</p>

+

+<p>"You don't. There are the street cars."</p>

+

+<p>Edgar's blond face turned upon her angrily.

+"When do you suppose I want a machine?

+When I'm doddering around with a cane?"</p>

+

+<p>"Earn it, then."</p>

+

+<p>"Yes, I can on a petty few hundreds a year!"</p>

+

+<p>"You drive down with father every morning,

+don't you?"</p>

+

+<p>"No, I don't. I have to get there before he

+does."</p>

+

+<p>Kathleen laughed. "What an outrage!"</p>

+

+<p>"I take the car first and then it goes back for

+him," said Edgar sulkily.</p>

+

+<p>"Oh, the cruelty of some parents!" drawled

+Kathleen, knocking the ash from her cigarette.

+"The idea of Peter going back for father. He

+should stand in Wall Street awaiting your

+orders."</p>

+

+<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_104" id="Page_104">[104]</a></span></p>

+

+<p>"No, he shouldn't, but I should have a motor

+of my own. The Ad. is more old-fashioned

+than any of the other fathers in our set."

+The speaker paused and gestured defensively.

+"You'll get off all that ancient stuff about the

+new generation wanting to begin where the old

+left off. Of course we do. Why not? I hope my

+son will begin where I leave off."</p>

+

+<p>Kathleen gave her one-sided smile&mdash;her

+Mona Lisa smile her admirers called it:&mdash;</p>

+

+<p>"Where you leave off is not liable to be a bed

+of roses if you keep on as you've begun." She

+looked up at her brother gravely as she tapped

+the end of her cigarette and dropped it in

+the ash receiver. "Why don't you use your

+brains?" she asked. "Can't you see that the

+more father notices that you have no ambition,

+the tighter he will draw the rein?"</p>

+

+<p>"I have plenty of ambition."</p>

+

+<p>"For work?"</p>

+

+<p>"Oh, you make me tired!"</p>

+

+<p>The young man resumed his impatient walk.</p>

+

+<p>The sister leaned back in her chair, her dark

+eyes following him, without the hint of a smile.</p>

+

+<p>"I'd like to see you tired," she said seriously.</p>

+

+<p>He turned on her. "Ever see me after a polo

+game?"</p>

+

+<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_105" id="Page_105">[105]</a></span></p>

+

+<p>"But life isn't a game, Edgar."</p>

+

+<p>He opened his eyes at her and grimaced

+scornfully.</p>

+

+<p>"The grave and reverend senior again;

+nearly ready to graduate, and inform the world

+that</p>

+

+<div class="poetry-container"><div class="poetry"><div class="stanza">

+    <div class="verse">'Life is real, life is earnest,</div>

+    <div class="verse">And the grave is not its goal!'</div>

+</div></div></div>

+

+<p>Might as well be in the grave at once as dig and

+grind the days away. Heaven help us when you

+get home! I suppose you must go through the

+fine-spun theory stage like the usual attack of

+measles."</p>

+

+<p>"Measles are catching," remarked Kathleen

+quietly.</p>

+

+<p>"Exactly! but I'm mighty glad I'm immune

+from the know-it-all disease."</p>

+

+<p>"That would mean that you'd had it, Edgar,

+and you never did have it; not even a rash.

+Open the window, please. We're a little blue in

+here."</p>

+

+<p>Edgar threw open the unoffending window

+with a force that threatened the mechanism.</p>

+

+<p>"No doubt," he said, "you'd like to have me

+live, like that cowboy, in a stable, and get my

+own meals."</p>

+

+<p>"A garage would suit you better, I suppose,"<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_106" id="Page_106">[106]</a></span>

+returned Kathleen. "What are you talking

+about?"</p>

+

+<p>"Hasn't mother written you of the genius

+who has come out of the wild and woolly to get

+his Pegasus curried in New York?"</p>

+

+<p>"Has mother taken up a genius?&mdash;Mother,

+of all people!"</p>

+

+<p>"Why, she's had him at the house, and insists

+on my being civil to him; but I haven't

+seen him yet. I get enough of him right at the

+breakfast and dinner table without hunting up

+the stable. His ambition is at the bottom of

+my coffee cup, and his genius for hard work is

+served as an entrée every night."</p>

+

+<p>"Oh,"&mdash;Kathleen's face gained a ray of

+interest,&mdash;"you mean that cousin of ours."</p>

+

+<p>"He's no cousin," retorted Edgar. "He's

+one of mother's fifty-seven varieties, a sort of

+step-neighbor-in-law of ours. When father and

+mother were out at the mine they met him. I

+think it was up to him to stay out there and

+make that mine pay. I think if he'd shown a

+little genius for hard work right there, it would

+have been more to the point."</p>

+

+<p>"Yes, mother wrote me." Kathleen's tone

+was tinged with the interest in her eyes.

+"What is his name, now?"</p>

+

+<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_107" id="Page_107">[107]</a></span></p>

+

+<p>"Sidney," responded Edgar with open disgust.

+"Oh, I'm authority on his name all

+right,&mdash;Philip Sidney; I've had it dinged into

+my ears faithfully."</p>

+

+<p>"A name to live up to," remarked the girl.

+"It was interesting, Aunt Mary leaving him her

+money."</p>

+

+<p>"It would have been more interesting if she'd

+had anything to leave."</p>

+

+<p>Edgar had thrown himself back on the divan

+and was watching curtains and smoke draw out

+the window.</p>

+

+<p>"Do you remember," continued his sister,

+"what nice cookies Aunt Mary used to give us

+when we were little? Mother felt sorry not to

+be here when she died."</p>

+

+<p>"Oh, mother's ripping," declared Edgar, his

+cheerfulness restored by some inspiriting memory.

+"She's had a hand-to-hand, knock-down-and-drag-out

+with the old gargoyle that holds

+the fort over there at Aunt Mary's."</p>

+

+<p>"What do you mean?" drawled Kathleen

+with faint disgust.</p>

+

+<p>"Mother gave a graphic account of the fray

+at dinner one night. I wasn't giving the story

+my whole attention, but I gathered that she

+and the doughty Eliza each got hold of one end<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_108" id="Page_108">[108]</a></span>

+of Aunt Mary's camel's hair shawl and had a tug

+of war; and Eliza's cat won the day for her by

+jumping on mother and nearly clawing her furs

+off."</p>

+

+<p>"Edgar," protested Kathleen, "your bump

+of respect is an intaglio!"</p>

+

+<p>"Well, I think I've got it about right. There

+were diamonds mixed up in it too. I believe

+Eliza wears a diamond tiara at her work so as to

+keep it away from mother; while the parent of

+the worshipful Philip came in for a diamond

+necklace, and mother was left nothing but cold

+neglect."</p>

+

+<p>"Absurd!" breathed Kathleen. "Aunt Mary

+was poor as a church mouse."</p>

+

+<p>"Well, whatever happened, the fur was rising

+on the back of mother's neck, and I didn't

+know but there would be a silver lining to the

+cloud and she'd cut Philip Sidney; but," with a

+heavy sigh, "no such luck. The cowboy still

+gallops his Pegasus over my prostrate body

+every meal."</p>

+

+<p>"What do you mean by a stable?" asked

+Kathleen.</p>

+

+<p>"Why, Pegasus has to have one, I suppose."</p>

+

+<p>"Is that all? Are you only being witty?"</p>

+

+<p>"Not a bit of it. You know the literal truth<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_109" id="Page_109">[109]</a></span>

+is all I'm ever up to. The genius has a room

+over a stable, and an oil stove!"</p>

+

+<p>"Why a stable?"</p>

+

+<p>"Convenient for Pegasus, I suppose," responded

+Edgar carelessly. "Beside, doubtless

+he would feel out of place in any abode more

+civilized."</p>

+

+<p>"Edgar Fabian, that's nonsense. I remember

+his mother, when she came East years ago,

+don't you?"</p>

+

+<p>"They're as poor as Job's turkey," said

+Edgar with a careless shrug. "That's why he

+jumped at Aunt Mary's pittance like a trout at

+a fly."</p>

+

+<p>"Oh, Edgar, what an object-lesson for you!"

+Kathleen clasped her hands.</p>

+

+<p>"Oh, of course!" ejaculated Edgar, his even

+teeth very much clenched.</p>

+

+<p>"You ought to go to see him!"</p>

+

+<p>"So I've heard," with intense sarcasm.

+"Mother has bored the life out of me."</p>

+

+<p>"It isn't civil not to," said Kathleen, relapsing

+into languor. "He's a sort of a relative."</p>

+

+<p>"Yes. The sort to keep away from. If I went

+up there, it would be to take his mahl-stick and

+smash his face."</p>

+

+<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_110" id="Page_110">[110]</a></span></p>

+

+<p>"Nice, hospitable plan," remarked Kathleen.

+"Possibly he wouldn't permit it."</p>

+

+<p>"Oh, I've no doubt he'd think it was real

+mean and pick up a fan and slap me on the

+wrist. Oh, forget him! Say, Kath," as if with

+sudden remembrance, "do you know I came off

+without my purse to-day?"</p>

+

+<p>The girl's eyes gained a curious expression.

+She was silent a moment, hands clasped around

+her knee. Under her gaze her brother picked up

+the guitar again and his nervous fingers swept

+the strings.</p>

+

+<p>"I thought you said this was a business trip."</p>

+

+<p>"It is. Go down and ask them at the bank if

+I didn't put a bee in their bonnet this morning."</p>

+

+<p>"Then the house pays your expenses. Your

+purse didn't have to suffer."</p>

+

+<p>"Oh, well, if you want the literal truth, I'm

+flat broke."</p>

+

+<p>"You always are flat broke at this time in the

+month. Why shouldn't <em>I</em> be?&mdash;as a matter of

+fact, I am."</p>

+

+<p>Edgar frowned. "What have you been

+buying?"</p>

+

+<p>"A new microscope. I've saved for it,

+Edgar."</p>

+

+<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_111" id="Page_111">[111]</a></span></p>

+

+<p>The girl cast a warm glance across the room

+to where, on a table, stood a tall slender object

+covered with a cloth.</p>

+

+<p>"Saved for it!" was the disgusted response.

+"Shameful idea when the Ad. could just as well

+buy you an observatory."</p>

+

+<p>"I don't believe father is nearly as rich as you

+think he is," said the girl defensively.</p>

+

+<p>"He's the prize tight-wad. That's what he

+is. Look at our summers! Isn't it enough that

+instead of Newport the Fabians rusticate on

+Brewster's Island?"</p>

+

+<p>"He met mother there. He loves it."</p>

+

+<p>"Well, I can tell you, mother would exchange

+a whole lot of sentiment for one good whirl at

+Newport or some other place where there are

+live ones! Say, Kath, be a good fellow. You

+can spare a dime or so. Ten dollars would be

+better than nothing. I'll give it back the first of

+the month, honor bright. Think of my having to

+depend on taxis! It would make angels weep."</p>

+

+<p>The sister continued to regard him and he

+reddened under the pensive gaze, and twanged

+the guitar.</p>

+

+<p>"You never have paid me back the first of

+the month and I wish you wouldn't promise,"

+she said at last; "but I'll tell you what I'll do.<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_112" id="Page_112">[112]</a></span>

+I'm coming home to spend Sunday and I will

+give you the ten dollars&mdash;it's all I have just

+now&mdash;if you will take me to see that cousin

+of ours."</p>

+

+<p>"What cousin?" asked Edgar.</p>

+

+<p>"Aunt Mary's heir. The artist."</p>

+

+<p>"Why are you determined to stuff him down

+my throat? He is absolutely no kin to us and

+has no demand on us. I decline."</p>

+

+<p>"Then I shall go with mother," declared

+Kathleen, in her laziest drawl. "I'm sure she

+will take me. I am interested in his determination.

+I want to see&mdash;his oil stove. I want to

+pat Pegasus."</p>

+

+<p>"Go, then, and much good may it do you!"

+Edgar put down the guitar and started up.

+"Where's the ten, Kath? Awful sorry to bother

+you."</p>

+

+<p>The girl did not rise. She shook her head.</p>

+

+<p>"You haven't earned it. I've decided you

+must work for this one, before it follows its

+predecessors to that bourne from which no

+bank-note returneth."</p>

+

+<p>There was an unusual sparkle in the eyes that

+met the blue ones.</p>

+

+<p>"You said you could go with mother," protested

+Edgar.</p>

+

+<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_113" id="Page_113">[113]</a></span></p>

+

+<p>"I can if I have to, but I prefer to hunt up

+stables with a man."</p>

+

+<p>"Oh, confound it! you always get your own

+way. Fork over, then. I'll go with you; but

+it just means fastening him right on us. We'll

+be cousins then for sure."</p>

+

+<p>Kathleen went to her closet and reappeared

+with the ten dollar bill. With a gesture of farewell

+she touched her finger to her lips and bestowed

+the kiss on the bank-note.</p>

+

+<p>Her brother looked at his watch.</p>

+

+<p>"Great Scott! I've got to hike for that

+train," he said; and wriggling into his overcoat

+he kissed his sister's cheek, and hurried away.</p>

+

+<hr class="chap" />

+

+<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_114" id="Page_114">[114]</a></span></p>

+

+

+

+

+<div class="chapter">

+<h2>CHAPTER VII</h2>

+</div>

+

+<p class="ph3">THE FLITTING</p>

+

+

+<p>It was Eliza's last day in the apartment. Out

+of respect to probable scruples on the part of

+her future hostess as to travelling on Sunday,

+she had planned to sit idle this Sabbath day,

+although everything was packed and she was

+ready to start.</p>

+

+<p>By Mrs. Wright's advice she had sold nearly

+all the shabby furnishings of the apartment.

+She had eaten a picnic luncheon in the forlorn

+kitchen, from whence even the gambolling

+kittens had fled to the bottom of Eliza's trunk,

+and now sat on a camp-chair in the middle of

+the empty parlor, as solitary as Alexander Selkirk

+on his island, monarch of all she surveyed,

+which was a pair of green eyes glowering at her

+from behind the wire network in the side of a

+wicker basket, which reposed on the only other

+chair in the room.</p>

+

+<p>Stern and inexorable looked Eliza sitting in

+state on the camp-chair, and furious glared the

+jewel eyes back at her.</p>

+

+<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_115" id="Page_115">[115]</a></span></p>

+

+<p>"You've got to get used to it, Pluto," she

+said. "Do you suppose I like it any better than

+you do? I don't know as you're so bad off

+either. I think I'd like to be put in a bag and

+carried to Brewster's Island with no care of

+cars or boats or anything else. You always do

+get the best of it."</p>

+

+<p>Eliza looked very haggard. It had been a

+wrenching week, packing her dear one's belongings,

+and selling into careless, grudging hands

+the old furniture with its tender associations.</p>

+

+<p>Philip had been too busy to come to her aid.

+They had exchanged notes. She had addressed

+him at the Fabians', and he had replied that he

+had taken a room, and asked that his belongings

+be stacked up somewhere. He promised that he

+would come for them early Sunday afternoon.</p>

+

+<p>So now she was waiting, her capable hands

+folded in her black alpaca lap, and her face expressing

+endurance.</p>

+

+<p>"I'm countin' the hours, Pluto," she declared.

+"This place is misery to me now. I feel

+just as much in a strange garret as you do in

+that basket. I just wish Mr. Sidney'd come

+and take his things and then there won't be

+much more daylight to look around here in.

+And I hope you won't act like all possessed<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_116" id="Page_116">[116]</a></span>

+when we start for the train nor when we get on

+it."</p>

+

+<p>"Meow!" cried Pluto, exasperated.</p>

+

+<p>"There now!" exclaimed Eliza, in trepidation&mdash;"you

+do that just once when the train's

+standin' still, and where'll we be! I've always

+thought you had a little more intelligence than

+the law allows; and if you go to actin' like an

+alley cat you'll disappoint me dreadfully!"</p>

+

+<p>Eliza rose anxiously and threw herself on her

+knees beside the basket and opened it. Pluto

+sprang out, and she caught him and pressed her

+thin cheek against his fur in a rare caress. Her

+eyes stung in her effort to repress tears.</p>

+

+<p>"Oh, law! I'm sick o' myself," she muttered.

+"Cryin'! cryin'! gracious, what a fool! I'd

+ought to sold you to somebody, I suppose,"&mdash;she

+clung tighter to the handsome creature

+and buried her eyes in his glossy coat,&mdash;"or

+given you away, more likely. Who'd want to

+pay anything for a cat that don't know how

+bothersome it's goin' to be to get the right train,

+and hasn't the decency to keep his mouth shut,

+and&mdash;Oh!" as a knock sounded on the door.

+"There he is now."</p>

+

+<p>The glow of Eliza's one interview with Mrs.

+Ballard's heir had faded long ago. The sordid<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_117" id="Page_117">[117]</a></span>

+and wounding events of the week had eclipsed

+whatever cheer he had brought her, and it was

+only as one of the events of her flitting that she

+looked forward to his advent this afternoon,

+and the departure of the last and most intimate

+of her dear one's possessions.</p>

+

+<p>The knock on the door preceded its immediate

+opening.</p>

+

+<p>"May I come in?"</p>

+

+<p>The long step took the little hall in three

+strides.</p>

+

+<p>The sight that met the newcomer's eyes was

+the bare room, with Eliza kneeling in front of

+an open basket, clasping Pluto to her breast.

+The woman's face and posture were dramatic.</p>

+

+<p>"Deserted!" was the word that rose to Phil's

+lips, but he repressed it. He would not twit on

+facts; but his all-observing eyes shone.</p>

+

+<p>"I'm always wanting to paint you, Eliza,"

+he said. "Sometime I will, too."</p>

+

+<p>"Me!" returned Eliza drearily. "You'll be

+hard up when you take me."</p>

+

+<p>"So far as that goes, I'm hard up now.

+That's chronic," responded Phil cheerfully.

+"What are you doing&mdash;not taking leave of

+that king among cats? If you're leaving him

+behind, I speak for him."</p>

+

+<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_118" id="Page_118">[118]</a></span></p>

+

+<p>"H'm!" exclaimed Eliza, loosening her clasp

+of her pet and rising. "You'd made a bad

+bargain if you took Pluto." She removed the

+basket from its chair. "Sit down, Mr. Sidney,"

+she said wearily, resuming her own seat. "It's

+too forlorn for you to stay, but maybe you'd

+like to ketch your breath before you take the

+things."</p>

+

+<p>Philip picked up the basket and looked curiously

+at its wire window.</p>

+

+<p>"Yes," continued Eliza. "I'm taking Pluto,

+so I had to have that. It was an extravagance,

+and he ain't worth it. I despise to see folks

+cartin' cats and dogs around. I didn't think

+I'd ever come to it; but somehow I'm&mdash;used

+to that selfish critter, and he's&mdash;he's all the

+folks I've got. It never once came to me that

+you'd take him."</p>

+

+<p>"Indeed I would," replied Phil; "and wait

+till you see the place I have for him. Rats and

+mice while you wait, I suppose, though I

+haven't seen any yet."</p>

+

+<p>"Oh, well," returned Eliza hastily, her eyes

+following Pluto as he rubbed himself against

+Phil's leg. "I've got the basket now. I guess

+I'll have to use it."</p>

+

+<p>"It's a shame I haven't been here to help<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_119" id="Page_119">[119]</a></span>

+you," said Phil. "You've had a hard week, I

+know, but I've had a busy one."</p>

+

+<p>"You've got a room, you say," said Eliza

+listlessly. "Rats and mice. That don't sound

+very good."</p>

+

+<p>Phil smiled. "I don't know,&mdash;as I say, I

+haven't seen them yet; but Pluto would be a

+fine guard to keep them off my blankets. I

+don't believe, though, there's been any grain in

+there for a good while."</p>

+

+<p>"Grain!" repeated Eliza.</p>

+

+<p>Phil laughed. "I'll tell you about it later;

+but first, may I have the things? I have an

+expressman down at the door. I rode over here

+with him in state. Good thing I didn't meet

+Mrs. Fabian."</p>

+

+<p>Eliza's thin lip curled as she rose. She led

+Philip to a room, in the middle of which was

+gathered a heterogeneous collection of articles.

+"In this box is the paintin' things," she said,

+touching a wooden case. "In this barrel is some

+dishes. I couldn't get anything for 'em anyway,

+and you wrote you was going to get your

+own breakfasts."</p>

+

+<p>"Capital," put in Phil; "and here's a bedstead."</p>

+

+<p>"Yes, and the spring and mattress," re<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_120" id="Page_120">[120]</a></span>turned

+Eliza. "It's Mrs. Ballard's bed. I

+couldn't sell it."</p>

+

+<p>Philip regarded the disconnected pieces dubiously&mdash;"I

+guess I'd have to be amputated at

+the knees to use that."</p>

+

+<p>"Well,"&mdash;Eliza shook her head quickly.

+"Take it anyway, and do what you've a mind

+to with it, only don't tell me. The beddin''s in

+the barrel with the dishes&mdash;you said you'd be

+glad of a chair, so here's one, and the two in the

+parlor are for you. You can take 'em right

+along. I haven't got very long to wait anyway.

+I calc'late to go to the station early."</p>

+

+<p>Phil touched her shoulder with his hand.</p>

+

+<p>"I'll see that you get to the station early

+enough."</p>

+

+<p>"You mustn't think o' me," said Eliza, as

+Phil picked up some of the furniture and started

+for the stairs.</p>

+

+<p>When he returned for the next load he brought

+the expressman with him. Together they took

+the last of the articles down the stairway.</p>

+

+<p>Eliza stood at the top and watched the final

+descent.</p>

+

+<p>"Good-bye Mr. Sidney," she said.</p>

+

+<p>He smiled brightly up at her across a couple

+of chairs, and the easel.</p>

+

+<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_121" id="Page_121">[121]</a></span></p>

+

+<p>"Good-bye for five minutes."</p>

+

+<p>"No, no," said Eliza; "don't you come

+back." She winked violently toward the receding

+cap of the expressman. "You'd better

+ride right over with the things just the way

+you came."</p>

+

+<p>"All right," responded Phil laughing. "<i lang="fr" xml:lang="fr">Bon

+voyage!</i>"</p>

+

+<p>"Hey?" asked Eliza.</p>

+

+<p>"Have a good trip. My respects to Pluto."</p>

+

+<p>She went back into the apartment and closed

+the door. It seemed emptier, stiller than ever

+after the little flurry of moving.</p>

+

+<p>"It was clever of him," she thought gratefully,

+"not to let the other man handle the

+easel."</p>

+

+<p>Now, indeed, desolation settled upon Eliza

+Brewster. Pluto's short tail stiffened in the

+majestic disapproval with which he walked

+about the room in search of an oasis of comfort.</p>

+

+<p>Eliza heard his protesting meows. She stood

+still at the window looking out on the grey

+November sky. "I haven't got a chair to sit

+down on, Pluto," she said. "It's got past

+cryin'!"</p>

+

+<p>She took out the gold-faced watch that was

+ticking against her thin bosom. Two hours yet<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_122" id="Page_122">[122]</a></span>

+before there would be any reason in going to the

+station. Suddenly it occurred to her that she

+had placed flannel in the bottom of the cat's

+travelling-basket. This would be the golden

+opportunity to endear the spot to his forlorn

+feline heart.</p>

+

+<p>She tucked the watch back in its hiding-place.

+"Here, kitty, kitty, kitty!" she cried.</p>

+

+<p>No response. The receding meows had ceased.

+She looked perplexed; then an illuminating

+thought occurred to her. Tables there were

+none, but the square top of the kitchen range

+remained. On this she had spread clean papers

+and upon them had laid her coat and hat, and

+the shabby boa and muff of black astrachan

+which had belonged to her dear one.</p>

+

+<p>She hastened down the hall. Her intuition

+had not failed. Upon this bed, his glossy coat

+revealing the rustiness of the garments, lay

+Pluto curled up, regardless of vicissitudes.</p>

+

+<p>Eliza had scarcely swept him off his bed when

+the outer door of the apartment opened again,

+and closed.</p>

+

+<p>"There," called a cheerful voice; "that's

+finished. Business before pleasure."</p>

+

+<p>Eliza hastened out into the hall. "You, Mr.

+Sidney?" she exclaimed in surprise. "Why,<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_123" id="Page_123">[123]</a></span>

+you haven't had time to get over there. Is

+your room so near?"</p>

+

+<p>"Oh, no. We've been making the wagon

+artistically safe, so as not to smash any of Aunt

+Mary's valuables." The speaker, strong and

+breezy, smiled reassuringly into Eliza's anxious

+face.</p>

+

+<p>"You'd ought to gone with him," she said.

+"Do you suppose the folks'll let him in all

+right."</p>

+

+<p>"There aren't any folks but English sparrows,"

+returned Phil. "I don't think they'll

+object."</p>

+

+<p>"What are you sayin'?" demanded Eliza.

+"If there's a house in this city where there

+ain't any folks, I didn't know it. It's queer,

+ain't it, Mr. Sidney, that it's folks make loneliness.

+Now, this buildin''s running over with

+<em>folks</em>, but there ain't an apartment where I

+could go in and say good-bye. They're always

+movin' in and movin' out like ants, and it makes

+it worse than if there was nobody. It was clever

+of you to come back, but don't you stay, 'cause

+there ain't any place to sit but the floor, and

+I'm going in just a few minutes to leave the key

+where I promised the agent I would, and then

+on to the station."</p>

+

+<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_124" id="Page_124">[124]</a></span></p>

+

+<p>"When does your train go?" asked Phil.</p>

+

+<p>"I ain't just certain," replied Eliza evasively.

+"I'll get there in good season."</p>

+

+<p>"I'm sure you will." Phil's eyes looked very

+kind. "How did you happen to take a night

+train?"</p>

+

+<p>"Well, I didn't know as Mrs. Wright would

+want me to travel on Sunday."</p>

+

+<p>"Isn't it Sunday in the afternoon?"</p>

+

+<p>"Not after six o'clock," replied Eliza hastily.

+"We could play dominoes after six o'clock when

+I was a youngster."</p>

+

+<p>"Aha," said Phil. "Then that train doesn't

+go till after six. It isn't yet three."</p>

+

+<p>"Now, Mr. Sidney,"&mdash;Eliza was frowning

+at her own blunder,&mdash;"I wish you wouldn't

+trouble yourself. The station's nice and warm.

+I expect Pluto'll act like all possessed, but I

+didn't calc'late to have any comfort with him.

+I'd been practisin' with him in the basket before

+you came to-day."</p>

+

+<p>Eliza's careworn brow went to her visitor's

+heart.</p>

+

+<p>"Where are you to leave the key? I'll take it

+for you."</p>

+

+<p>"Oh, you needn't. It's the janitor, right

+here in the buildin'."</p>

+

+<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_125" id="Page_125">[125]</a></span></p>

+

+<p>"Then it's all clear sailing," said Phil. "Get

+on your things, Eliza."</p>

+

+<p>"It's a little early," she demurred. "If it

+wasn't for Pluto I wouldn't care; but you go

+along, Mr. Sidney, and don't think anything

+more about us. You ought to go and see that

+those goods get in all right."</p>

+

+<p>"We'll be there to meet them. Do you suppose

+I would let you leave New York without

+seeing where I'm going to live? And do you

+suppose I'd let you out of my sight anyway till

+I put you on the train?"</p>

+

+<p>"Dear me!" returned Eliza, fluttered, but

+feeling as if the sun had suddenly peeped

+through the November clouds. "I never

+thought&mdash;" she stopped undecidedly.</p>

+

+<p>"Well, I did," said Phil heartily. "It's a

+shame that I haven't helped you any this hard

+week. Where's Pluto?"</p>

+

+<p>"He may be back on the stove again," returned

+Eliza. "I don't dare take my eyes off

+him." She moved quickly toward the kitchen,

+and there on her habiliments lay the cat; but

+at sight of her he leaped guiltily to the floor.</p>

+

+<p>Phil, following, laughed. "Well, things have

+come to a pretty pass when you have to hang

+your coat up on the stove." He looked about<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_126" id="Page_126">[126]</a></span>

+the spotless place. "I wonder if this apartment

+will ever be so clean again."</p>

+

+<p>"Oh, I'm clean," admitted Eliza. "Mr.

+Sidney,"&mdash;she paused again, her coat in her

+hand, and faced him,&mdash;"you don't want to go

+traipsing through the streets o' New York with

+an old woman and a cat!"</p>

+

+<p>"That's where you're wrong," returned Phil.

+"You're the only girl I have in town. It's

+highly proper that we should go walking of a

+Sunday afternoon. You get on your things, and

+I'll wrestle with Pluto."</p>

+

+<p>The cat, suspecting that whatever plan was

+afoot was not entirely according to his taste,

+led Phil a short chase; but all the havens which

+usually harbored his periods of rebellion having

+disappeared, he was soon captured, and when

+Eliza, hatted and coated, entered the living-room,

+Phil had laid the cat on the flannel in the

+bottom of the basket, and was keeping him

+there by reassuring caresses.</p>

+

+<p>"Ain't he just as kind as he can be!"

+thought Eliza.</p>

+

+<p>"Ready?" asked Phil, and closed the basket.

+He met Pluto's gaze through the window.</p>

+

+<p>"It's all right, old chap," he laughed.</p>

+

+<p>He was not unmindful of the advantage of this<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_127" id="Page_127">[127]</a></span>

+diversion of Eliza's mind, in leaving the apartment

+forever. He had a green memory of her

+stormy emotion. He tried to take the key from

+her now as they stepped outside.</p>

+

+<p>"No," she said briefly, "I'll close this chapter

+myself," and she locked the door.</p>

+

+<p>Philip balanced the basket ostentatiously.

+"Believe me," said he, "Pluto is some cat!

+How did you expect to get on with him

+alone?"</p>

+

+<p>"I calc'lated to get a boy," replied Eliza in an

+unsteady voice. Memories were crowding her.</p>

+

+<p>"Well, you have one," returned Phil, leading

+the way downstairs.</p>

+

+<p>"But I'm strong, too. You've heard about

+the woman that carried the calf uphill every

+day till it was a cow? I've had Pluto ever since

+his eyes was open."</p>

+

+<p>"Well, you'd need some hill-climbing with

+him to fit you for taking the elevated."</p>

+

+<p>"Yes, I did some dread those steps. It's

+certainly clever of you, Mr. Sidney. They say

+the lame and the lazy are always provided

+for."</p>

+

+<p>Thus Eliza Brewster left her home of years.

+She gave the key to the janitor and went out

+into the dull, damp November afternoon with<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_128" id="Page_128">[128]</a></span>

+her strong escort, whose good cheer again impressed

+her consciousness as a wonderful thing

+to have any relation to her own life.</p>

+

+<p>"You've learned your way around real

+quick," said Eliza as they plunged into the

+nearest subway station.</p>

+

+<p>"This is all bluff, Eliza, and you're the most

+trustful woman in the world. I want to go

+somewhere near Gramercy Park; but if we

+come out at Harlem I shall try to look as if I

+lived there."</p>

+

+<p>"Gramercy Park!" exclaimed Eliza; and she

+thought&mdash;"Well, at that rate, Mrs. Ballard's

+money won't last long."</p>

+

+<p>"I didn't know," she said aloud, "as you'd

+feel like gettin' a room in a real fashionable

+neighborhood."</p>

+

+<p>"I'll bet," she thought acutely, "that's Mrs.

+Fabian's doin's."</p>

+

+<p>The subway train came crashing in, and

+Pluto crouched in his basket.</p>

+

+<p>Eliza's suspicions and anxieties increased

+as, after leaving the subway, their journey

+continued; and when they finally came into a

+region of old and aristocratic dwellings, her

+eyes were round and she could no longer keep

+silent. It was an outrage, an imposition, to<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_129" id="Page_129">[129]</a></span>

+have influenced the young art-student to commit

+himself to a home in these surroundings.</p>

+

+<p>"I'd 'a' been a whole lot better person to 'a'

+helped you find a place than Mrs. Fabian," she

+said, more and more impressed with the incongruity

+of the situation. To be sure, Phil looked

+like a prince and fit for any environment; but

+not while trudging along with a shabby, grey-haired

+woman, and carrying a cat-basket.</p>

+

+<p>"I know, I know, Eliza," he returned, with

+gay recognition of her perturbation and disapproval.

+"I'm sorry sometimes that elegance

+and luxury are necessary to me. It's the penalty

+of blue blood. Mrs. Fabian had nothing to

+do with this; but I had to find my level, Eliza.

+Blood will tell."</p>

+

+<p>"You said rats and mice," she returned

+mechanically. "Are you sure you've got the

+right street?"</p>

+

+<p>"Sure as a homing pigeon;&mdash;by the way, I

+might keep pigeons! I never thought of it."</p>

+

+<p>"For the rats?" inquired Eliza with some

+asperity.</p>

+

+<p>She had always heard that geniuses were

+erratic. Also that without exception they were

+ignorant of the value of money. Poor Mrs.

+Ballard! What a small space of time it would<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_130" id="Page_130">[130]</a></span>

+take for her little capital to be licked up as by a

+fierce heat.</p>

+

+<p>"This way," cried her escort, and swung

+Pluto's basket triumphantly as he turned

+abruptly into an alley.</p>

+

+<p>Eliza caught her breath in the midst of her

+resentment. "You do go in the back way,

+then."</p>

+

+<p>"Not a bit of it!" retorted Phil. "My proud

+spirit couldn't brook anything like that." He

+caught Eliza's arm and hurried her pace. "We

+go in the front way, please take notice!"</p>

+

+<hr class="chap" />

+

+<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_131" id="Page_131">[131]</a></span></p>

+

+

+

+

+<div class="chapter">

+<h2>CHAPTER VIII</h2>

+</div>

+

+<p class="ph3">AN INTERRUPTED TEA</p>

+

+

+<p>More bewildered every moment, Eliza hurried

+along, obediently, and in a minute more found

+herself in a paved yard on which faced a stable

+built of stone similar to the fine house backing

+upon it.</p>

+

+<p>Phil threw open a side door and disclosed the

+round, good-natured face of a man, leaning back

+in a ragged Morris chair, his feet on a deal table.</p>

+

+<p>"Hello, Pat. I've brought my best girl to

+show her my room."</p>

+

+<p>The Irishman sprang to his feet, and grinned

+politely.</p>

+

+<p>"They have old girls in New York," remarked

+Eliza drily.</p>

+

+<p>"Whativer age ye are, mum," said Pat

+gallantly, "ye don't look it."</p>

+

+<p>They passed him and ascended a narrow

+stair. "This is cement, Mr. Sidney," said

+Eliza, "and probably no mice."</p>

+

+<p>"That settles it, Pluto," remarked Phil.

+"You for the island."</p>

+

+<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_132" id="Page_132">[132]</a></span></p>

+

+<p>He ushered his companion into a room,

+empty but for a deal table and chair, an oil

+stove with a saucepan on it, and a couple of

+piles of Indian blankets, two of which were

+spread on the floor in place of rugs. One end of

+the table was piled with sketches.</p>

+

+<p>"Well!" exclaimed Eliza. "Why did you&mdash;"</p>

+

+<p>"Because," interrupted Phil laconically, and

+pointed to a double window facing north.</p>

+

+<p>"Take off your things, Eliza," he added

+joyously, beginning to unbutton her coat.</p>

+

+<p>"There were no horses that I saw," said the

+bewildered visitor.</p>

+

+<p>"Family in Europe," returned Phil.</p>

+

+<p>"But it's warm and comfortable."</p>

+

+<p>"Have to keep fires on account of the plumbing.

+The coachman was a family man before

+master and mistress departed, and they kept

+house in two rooms up here. I have succeeded

+to Mrs. Maloney's kitchen. Behold the running

+water. The other room is used for storage.

+Being single, Pat got the job of caretaker and

+sleeps downstairs. Can you suggest an improvement?"</p>

+

+<p>If Eliza had thought Phil handsome before,

+she stared now at the illumination of his triumphant

+face as his eyes questioned her.</p>

+

+<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_133" id="Page_133">[133]</a></span></p>

+

+<p>She smiled, and there was a protesting

+scramble in the basket.</p>

+

+<p>"Come out, Katze, of course," said the host,

+and, stooping, released the prisoner.</p>

+

+<p>Pluto leaped forth and made a tour of the

+room, smelling daintily of the blankets.</p>

+

+<p>"Of course, when I get Aunt Mary's things,

+you know," continued Phil.</p>

+

+<p>"I wish they'd come," said Eliza, dazed and

+smiling. "I'd like to see how they're goin' to

+look."</p>

+

+<p>"They'll be here before you leave. Now,

+take the Turkish armchair, Miss Brewster, and

+loll back while I talk to you; and pretty soon

+we'll have some tea."</p>

+

+<p>As he spoke the host doubled a striped blanket

+over the kitchen chair and deposited Eliza.

+She felt dumb in the change from dismal loneliness

+to this atmosphere charged with vitality.</p>

+

+<p>Phil threw himself on the blanket at her

+feet, and leaning on one elbow looked up into

+the eyes which wandered about the plastered

+room.</p>

+

+<p>"Made to order, Eliza, made to order," he

+assured her. "No one but Mrs. Fabian knows

+where I am, and she's not likely to interrupt

+me."</p>

+

+<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_134" id="Page_134">[134]</a></span></p>

+

+<p>"Stables ain't just in her line," said Eliza.

+"I was afraid, comin' up the street, that she had

+led you into extravagance."</p>

+

+<p>"Oh, she is very kind," laughed Phil. "She

+was appalled when I told her what I had found,

+and seemed to think my oil stove the most

+pathetic thing in the world."</p>

+

+<p>"Yes," remarked Eliza. "Her son Edgar'd

+find some trouble livin' this way."</p>

+

+<p>"I haven't met him yet."</p>

+

+<p>"Nor Miss Kathleen?"</p>

+

+<p>"No, she's at school, you know. Mrs. Fabian

+has been very good to me. No one could be

+kinder, and I'm afraid I've been a rather absent-minded

+guest, but getting started has been

+so glorious. Eliza, I'm the most fortunate

+fellow in the world. Just think! Even no paper

+on these walls!"</p>

+

+<p>Eliza looked with disfavor at the rough

+greyish plaster.</p>

+

+<p>"'Twould be more cheerful with some real

+pretty pattern," she said.</p>

+

+<p>Phil laughed and caught Pluto by the back of

+the neck as he was passing, and lifted him over

+into the hollow of his arm.</p>

+

+<p>"I like it this way," he explained.</p>

+

+<p>Eliza looked down at him admiringly. "I<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_135" id="Page_135">[135]</a></span>

+wish Mrs. Ballard could see you now," she

+said.</p>

+

+<p>"I wish she knew what she has done for me.

+It seems as if this is the first time since my

+childhood that I have known peace."</p>

+

+<p>At the word there came a sound of voices

+from below.</p>

+

+<p>"The expressman!" exclaimed Phil, and

+springing to his feet opened the door.</p>

+

+<p>"Sure; go right up," they heard in Pat's rich

+brogue.</p>

+

+<p>"I'd better help him," said Phil, and went to

+the head of the stair.</p>

+

+<p>What met his astonished gaze was a large

+black velvet hat ascending. It was willowy with

+drooping feathers, and in the dimness of the

+narrow stair it eclipsed the motive power which

+was lifting it. In his amazement Philip stepped

+back and presently met a slender face whose

+dark eyes were lifted to his.</p>

+

+<p>"We're taking you by storm, Mr. Sidney,"

+said a low, slow voice. "I hope it's not inconvenient."</p>

+

+<p>Edgar followed close behind. "I tried to send

+your man up ahead," he said stridently, "but

+he seemed to think this sort of thing was all

+right."</p>

+

+<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_136" id="Page_136">[136]</a></span></p>

+

+<p>Philip stood back a pace further in actual

+bewilderment, and Kathleen Fabian extended

+her delicately gloved hand.</p>

+

+<p>"We're the Fabians," she said, examining

+her host with quick appraisement, and her

+smile was alluring.</p>

+

+<p>"Oh!" exclaimed Phil, recovering himself

+and taking the hand. "Very kind of you, I'm

+sure."</p>

+

+<p>"If you think you're easy to find," said

+Edgar as they greeted, "you're much mistaken.

+Mother got it all wrong, as usual."</p>

+

+<p>Philip took in at a glance the dapper form of

+his visitor. He had not been insensible of Edgar's

+neglect of him in the young man's own

+home; and had decided that Eastern and Western

+ideas of hospitality must differ with more

+than the width of a continent.</p>

+

+<p>"Very good of you, I'm sure, to stick to

+it," he returned composedly. "Come into my

+suite and overlook its shortcomings if you

+can."</p>

+

+<p>Eliza had risen, startled.</p>

+

+<p>"I suppose you both know Eliza Brewster,"

+continued Phil. "She made life comfortable

+for Aunt Mary so many years."</p>

+

+<p>Edgar Fabian jerked his blond head in Eliza's<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_137" id="Page_137">[137]</a></span>

+direction. "How do," he said; but the host's

+tone and manner constrained Kathleen to

+approach the grey-haired woman, and again

+hold out the delicate hand.</p>

+

+<p>"Was it you who made those good cookies

+Aunt Mary used to give us?" she asked slowly,

+looking curiously at Phil's guest.</p>

+

+<p>Eliza allowed the white glove to take her

+bony fingers a moment, then she stepped behind

+the solitary chair and set it forward for the

+visitor.</p>

+

+<p>The girl would have accepted it, but Phil

+interposed.</p>

+

+<p>"Sit down, Eliza," he said good-humoredly.

+"Miss Fabian can get chairs at home. I am

+going to treat her with truly Oriental magnificence.

+Try this, Miss Fabian." The host indicated

+a pile of Indian blankets, and Kathleen

+sank upon them.</p>

+

+<p>Then Phil turned to Edgar, who reached to

+the host's ear as he stood in high-chested

+superiority looking about the apartment with

+disfavor.</p>

+

+<p>"The choice of soft spots is small," said Phil,

+"but help yourself. There's room beside your

+sister here."</p>

+

+<p>Edgar moved to the pile of blankets and sat<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_138" id="Page_138">[138]</a></span>

+down; while Phil dropped, Turkish fashion, at

+Eliza's feet and faced them.</p>

+

+<p>"What a splendid cat!" said Kathleen.</p>

+

+<p>"Yes," agreed Phil. "Come here, Katze, and

+see the lady." He seized Pluto and handed him

+over to Kathleen."</p>

+

+<p>"Oh, get out," said Edgar. "I hate cats."</p>

+

+<p>His sister moved Pluto over to her other side

+where he drove his claws into the blanket with

+satisfaction while she caressed him.</p>

+

+<p>"He'll soil your glove," said Eliza; "his hair

+comes out some." She resented the Fabian

+touch on her pet, and Edgar's remark had sent

+color to her sallow cheeks.</p>

+

+<p>"I'd like a muff made of him," drawled

+Kathleen.</p>

+

+<p>"Too late," said Phil. "He's going to Maine

+to-night with Eliza."</p>

+

+<p>"He isn't your cat, then?" said the girl, and

+brushed her glove.</p>

+

+<p>"No, Eliza refuses to give him to me."</p>

+

+<p>"There's that oil stove," remarked Edgar.

+"I don't know what there is so particularly

+virtuous about an oil stove; but mother throws

+yours at me every time we have an argument."</p>

+

+<p>Philip regarded the speaker speculatively.

+Edgar's voice had an arrogant quality, which<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_139" id="Page_139">[139]</a></span>

+gave no idea of its beauty when he broke into

+song. "I'd give you a glimpse of its virtues if

+the expressman would come," replied the host.

+He smiled up at Eliza while Kathleen watched

+him. "Did you put in cups enough for all of

+us?"</p>

+

+<p>"Six cups and saucers," returned Eliza, "and

+six plates, and six knives and forks, and six

+spoons. I gave you the plated ones 'cause then

+you wouldn't care if they were stolen."</p>

+

+<p>"But I should care," returned Phil gravely.

+"I shall search every departing guest."</p>

+

+<p>"Indian blankets," said Edgar. "They suggest

+the pipe of peace. Let's make it a cigarette."

+He took out his case.</p>

+

+<p>"Only one room here," remarked Phil.

+"Perhaps the ladies object."</p>

+

+<p>Edgar grinned at his sister. "Do you object

+to a cigarette, Kath?" he asked, offering her the

+open case.</p>

+

+<p>"Perhaps Mr. Sidney is not a smoker," she

+said, "and it would be unsociable."</p>

+

+<p>The same curiosity which had grown in

+Phil's eyes as he regarded young Fabian, now

+stole into them as they met Kathleen's.</p>

+

+<p>"I'm almost sure Eliza doesn't indulge,"

+said the host, "and perhaps she doesn't like it."</p>

+

+<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_140" id="Page_140">[140]</a></span></p>

+

+<p>"Don't think of me, Mr. Philip," exclaimed

+Eliza hastily. "This is your house."</p>

+

+<p>"My stable, you mean." He smiled. "No,

+it's yours this afternoon, Eliza. You're to give

+orders."</p>

+

+<p>"Then you may smoke to your hearts' content,"

+she responded promptly; and she sent an

+inimical look toward the graceful girl in the

+drooping hat. Let her smoke! Eliza hoped she

+would, and let Philip Sidney see what the

+Fabians were.</p>

+

+<p>"Remove my sister's scruples, won't you,

+Sidney?" said Edgar, offering his case.</p>

+

+<p>Phil took a cigarette, and Edgar passed them

+back to Kathleen.</p>

+

+<p>"No, thanks," she replied. She had seen the

+cool curiosity in the host's eyes as they rested

+upon her a moment ago.</p>

+

+<p>"Oh, go ahead," urged Edgar.</p>

+

+<p>"I don't like your cigarettes," she returned

+shortly, annoyed by his persistence. A deep

+color grew in her cheeks.</p>

+

+<p>"Wait till you know Kath better," said

+Edgar with a wink toward Philip. "You'll

+welcome any little human touches about her.

+She's at the most painful stage of her college

+career where she knows everything; and she's<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_141" id="Page_141">[141]</a></span>

+one of these high-brows; saves money&mdash;good

+money&mdash;and buys microscopes with it!"

+The utter scorn of the speaker's tone, as he

+offered Phil a light, caused the latter to smile.</p>

+

+<p>"What are you doing with a microscope,

+Miss Fabian?" he asked.</p>

+

+<p>"Hunting for an honest man," she returned

+in her lingering speech.</p>

+

+<p>"Stung!" remarked her brother. "Say, I

+don't see any symptoms of painting up here,"

+he added, looking around.</p>

+

+<p>"No; you'll have to come down to the academy

+to see the works of art I'm throwing off,"

+said Phil. "I've been there two days."</p>

+

+<p>Now there was another stir belowstairs and

+this time it really was the expressman; and

+Philip's effects began to come upstairs.</p>

+

+<p>"I'm afraid we're dreadfully in the way,"

+said Kathleen; while Edgar held his cigarette

+between two fingers and moved about, watching

+the invasion of barrels, boxes, and bedstead,

+uncertain whether to lend a hand. "Aunt

+Mary's old duds, as I'm alive!" he thought,

+seeing Eliza's anxious supervision of each piece

+as Phil came carrying it in.</p>

+

+<p>"A great way to entertain you, Miss Fabian,"

+said the host brightly.</p>

+

+<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_142" id="Page_142">[142]</a></span></p>

+

+<p>"What can I do?" inquired Edgar perfunctorily,

+continuing to get in Phil's way with the

+assiduity of a second Marcelline.</p>

+

+<p>"If you won't mind being put on the shelf for

+a minute," said Phil, tired of avoiding him,

+"I'm going to tote in one more and then we're

+done." And picking up the astonished Edgar he

+set him on a barrel which had been placed in

+a corner, and so succeeded in bringing in the

+heaviest of the boxes undisturbed.</p>

+

+<p>Edgar, very red in the face, swung his patent

+leather feet for a minute and then jumped down.

+"We must be going, Kath," he said stiffly.</p>

+

+<p>"Not till you've found the mahl-stick," she

+drawled, with stars in her eyes. "My brother is

+so curious about your painting implements,

+Mr. Sidney."</p>

+

+<p>"They're in these boxes," responded Phil.

+"The very ones that dear little Aunt Mary

+used."</p>

+

+<p>He had paid the expressman and was pulling

+down his cuffs. His guests were both standing.</p>

+

+<p>"Personally," he continued, "I think the

+contents of the barrel more interesting just

+now. You mustn't go without a cup of tea.

+One moment and I'll make a raid on Pat for a

+hammer."</p>

+

+<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_143" id="Page_143">[143]</a></span></p>

+

+<p>Phil left the room and Edgar still stood,

+quite flushed under his sister's smile.</p>

+

+<p>"Do you want any tea?" he asked severely.</p>

+

+<p>"I think I do," replied Kathleen.</p>

+

+<p>"I'll send the car back for you, then."</p>

+

+<p>"Not at all," she answered; and when the

+girl's voice took this tone and her eyes narrowed,

+her brother usually paid attention.

+After all, Kathleen was a useful court of last

+appeal. It was unwise to offend her.</p>

+

+<p>"What's the matter? Eliza can chaperone

+you," he protested.</p>

+

+<p>Simultaneously with Phil's disappearance

+Eliza had moved to the window and looked

+out on the advancing twilight. She heard the

+words, and her thin lips tightened.</p>

+

+<p>"That's the very cat that assaulted and

+battered mother," went on Edgar, and although

+he lowered his voice Eliza heard the words and

+smiled grimly at a neighboring stable.</p>

+

+<p>Kathleen frowned and motioned with her

+head toward the black alpaca back.</p>

+

+<p>Edgar shrugged his immaculate shoulders.</p>

+

+<p>"Well, tell me when you have had enough of

+it," he said, and threw himself back on the pile

+of blankets.</p>

+

+<p>Kathleen was just planning some civil over<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_144" id="Page_144">[144]</a></span>ture

+to Eliza when the host reappeared, a

+hatchet in his hand.</p>

+

+<p>"That bold son of Erin dares to imply that

+I borrowed his hammer yesterday," he announced.

+"If I did, it is in Mrs. Maloney's

+closet; and if there it is as a needle in a haystack;

+for that closet, Miss Fabian, is responsible

+for the air of chaste elegance you observe

+in this apartment. If you'll all stand aside, not

+to be bombarded when I open the door, I will

+give one glimpse within."</p>

+

+<p>Phil opened the closet door cautiously, and

+deftly caught a mandolin as it bounded forth.</p>

+

+<p>"Sole relic of glee-club days," he remarked.

+"I don't know why I brought it, for I couldn't

+play 'Yankee Doodle' on it now."</p>

+

+<p>He delved further into the closet, and Edgar,

+picking up the mandolin as one friend in a

+strange land, removed it from its case with slow

+and condescending touch.</p>

+

+<p>"Here's the hammer on the sink," said Eliza

+suddenly.</p>

+

+<p>"Saved!" exclaimed Phil, pushing back billowing

+folds of grey. "I was just about losing in

+a combat with a bath-wrapper. Now, with these

+chairs and the hammer, what is to prevent our

+salon from being the most delightful success?"</p>

+

+<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_145" id="Page_145">[145]</a></span></p>

+

+<p>"Nothing!" exclaimed Kathleen, standing at

+the end of the table. "I have found some

+sketches, Mr. Sidney. May I look at them?"</p>

+

+<p>"Certainly." The artist took the hammer

+and began an attack on the barrel which caused

+Edgar to raise his eyebrows in annoyance.

+He was testing the strings of the mandolin.</p>

+

+<p>"Shall I light the stove?" asked Eliza.</p>

+

+<p>"No, you're the guest of honor. Sit down,

+Eliza, and watch us. Mr. Fabian will light the

+stove."</p>

+

+<p>"Heaven forbid," exclaimed Edgar devoutly,

+"that I should touch the enemy of my

+peace!"</p>

+

+<p>Kathleen, her lip caught between her teeth

+as she turned the sketches with concentrated

+interest, sent an ironical glance toward her

+brother, strumming the mandolin on the

+blanket couch.</p>

+

+<p>"Yes, you're elected, Fabian," said Phil,

+deftly removing the barrel-hoop. "You have

+the matches. You see the peace and calm on

+my brow? That is because I am serene in the

+knowledge of a lemon and a bag of sugar outside

+on the window ledge."</p>

+

+<p>Reluctantly Edgar laid down the mandolin

+and approached the stove.</p>

+

+<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_146" id="Page_146">[146]</a></span></p>

+

+<p>"What do you do?" he asked superciliously.

+"Turn on something at the bottom, and light it

+at the top?"</p>

+

+<p>"Edgar," warned his sister, "it isn't gas."</p>

+

+<p>"Marrow-bones, Fabian, get down on them,"

+said Phil good-humoredly; and disgustedly

+Edgar knelt to his <i lang="fr" xml:lang="fr">bête noir</i>.</p>

+

+<p>Eliza's fingers itched to help him. She obeyed

+Phil's warning gestures to keep her seat until

+the match was finally applied to the wicks.

+Then, seeing that they were turned too high,

+she pounced down on the floor beside the young

+man, and pushing his immaculate arm away

+she lowered the wicks.</p>

+

+<p>Edgar stared at the familiarity. "Excuse

+me," she said shortly.</p>

+

+<p>"Must have a finger in the pie, eh?" remarked

+Phil.</p>

+

+<p>"Do you know how long it'd take to get this

+room so full o' soot we couldn't stay in it?"

+asked Eliza. "I wonder what sort of a mess

+you're goin' to live in here, Mr. Sidney, if you

+don't know that?"</p>

+

+<p>"It's a smokeless one," protested Phil

+meekly.</p>

+

+<p>"The cat's foot!" quoth Eliza scornfully.

+"Don't tell me! There's no such thing." She<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_147" id="Page_147">[147]</a></span>

+partly filled the kettle and placed it on the

+stove, watching the wicks with a jealous eye.</p>

+

+<p>Edgar removed himself from danger and

+looked with exasperation at Kathleen, who with

+eyes aglow was turning the sketches.</p>

+

+<p>"If I ever worked as hard for tea as this I'll

+be hung!" he thought, and returned to the

+mandolin as the one congenial object in a forlorn

+abode.</p>

+

+<p>Even its long silent strings spoke plaintively

+against the vulgar banging which was removing

+the barrel-head.</p>

+

+<p>"There!" exclaimed Phil presently. "I

+rather fancy the way I did that. I can use

+that barrel again."</p>

+

+<p>"Yes," assented Edgar as he strummed,

+"for kindlings for the oil-stove."</p>

+

+<p>Phil drew the barrel nearer the table.</p>

+

+<p>"Now for the plums in the pudding," he said,

+and began to draw forth some papered cups

+from the excelsior.</p>

+

+<p>Kathleen dropped the sketches and unwrapped

+the packages. She had stood three

+cups and saucers on the table before Eliza

+turned from her labors about the stove.</p>

+

+<p>"What delightful old things!" exclaimed

+the girl.</p>

+

+<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_148" id="Page_148">[148]</a></span></p>

+

+<p>"Now, aren't you glad you stayed?" asked

+Phil, bringing forth a silver cream pitcher of

+long ago.</p>

+

+<p>Eliza caught sight of the table, and suddenly

+threw up both hands with an exclamation.</p>

+

+<p>"Mr. Sidney!" she cried. "I've given you

+the wrong barrel!"</p>

+

+<p>"What? What's happened?" inquired Phil,

+halted by her tragic tone.</p>

+

+<p>"All Mrs. Ballard's best things are in that

+barrel; the old china that was her mother's,

+and the solid silver, and everything; and I've

+gone and sent yours with the substantial

+crockery and the beddin' to the island!"</p>

+

+<p>Edgar Fabian regarded Eliza as inimically as

+his stepmother might have done. So this old

+servant had been carrying off the heirlooms

+and been discovered.</p>

+

+<p>He sat up very straight on his blanket couch.</p>

+

+<p>"I'll speak to my mother," he said. "She can

+come over to-morrow and get them, and buy

+the right sort of thing for a bachelor"&mdash;he

+threw a glance around the plastered room&mdash;"apartment!"</p>

+

+<p>Phil, not realizing the sensitiveness of the

+subject, laughed.</p>

+

+<p>"Good work, Eliza! We'll have one aristo<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_149" id="Page_149">[149]</a></span>cratic

+tea in the Sidney studio, before we fall to

+stone china and mugs."</p>

+

+<p>"The others ain't stone china and mugs,"

+cried Eliza. She was trembling from head to

+foot, as frightened and enraged by Edgar's suggestion

+as if her own life had been at stake.

+"They're all good, comfortable things. If it

+was safe I'd leave all these for you, Mr. Philip,

+just as liefs to as not, for she loved you; but

+you are gone all day; they'd be stole&mdash;just as

+Mr. Fabian says."</p>

+

+<p>Edgar blinked, then his face grew scarlet as

+the servant's implication grew upon him.</p>

+

+<p>"What do you mean&mdash;you&mdash;!"</p>

+

+<p>He leaped to his feet and faced Eliza, who

+glared back at him. "These things should belong

+to my mother," he said, "and it's a good

+thing you didn't succeed in getting away with

+them. She may set some value on the old stuff.

+I don't know."</p>

+

+<p>"Edgar!" exclaimed Kathleen, as scarlet as

+he, while the duel had all happened so suddenly

+that the host stared, dazed.</p>

+

+<p>He had just lifted another silver piece from

+the barrel and taken it from its flannel bag.</p>

+

+<p>"They do not belong to your mother," returned

+Eliza angrily. "They belong to me,<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_150" id="Page_150">[150]</a></span>

+to have and to hold, or to give away as I see

+fit."</p>

+

+<p>Edgar shrugged. "Oh, in that case&mdash;" he

+returned. He didn't like Eliza's eyes.</p>

+

+<p>"In that case," said Phil to him gravely, "I

+think you'll feel better to apologize to the

+woman who has put Aunt Mary's relatives

+under lifelong obligation for her devoted care."</p>

+

+<p>Edgar tossed his head with a scornful

+grimace.</p>

+

+<p>"Yes, I understand perfectly," went on Phil,

+coloring; "Aunt Mary was no kin to you, and

+I understand that she was a person held in little

+consideration by your family." The host's

+attitude was tense now, and his look compelling.

+"Nevertheless, Eliza Brewster happens

+to be my honored guest to-day, and I'm sure

+you will be glad to express your regret for your

+choice of words."</p>

+

+<p>"Edgar, you didn't understand," said Kathleen.

+"Say so. Why, of course, you're glad

+to say so."</p>

+

+<p>"No, I didn't understand," remarked Edgar

+with a languid air, strumming the mandolin,

+"and now that I do, I don't know that it is very

+interesting."</p>

+

+<p>Phil saw Kathleen's acute distress.</p>

+

+<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_151" id="Page_151">[151]</a></span></p>

+

+<p>"Very sorry, I'm sure," continued the young

+man, nodding toward Eliza. "You can run

+away with your barrel and welcome. The Fabians

+will still have cups and saucers. I think,"

+returning Phil's grave gaze contemptuously,

+"if your honored guest should apologize for

+her attack on my mother, it would be quite as

+much to the point. You heard her say that

+mother would come over and steal her trash,

+didn't you? Come, Kathleen." The speaker

+dropped the mandolin, squared his shoulders,

+and started for the door.</p>

+

+<p>"No; oh, no!" exclaimed Phil, all his hearty

+Western hospitality in arms at the sight of his

+girl guest's expression.</p>

+

+<p>Edgar turned on him again. "I fancied that

+my mother had been rather civil to you since

+your arrival. I'll tell her how you guard her

+dignity."</p>

+

+<p>Edgar was fairly swelling with emotion, one

+fourth of which was indignant defence of his

+mother, and three fourths joy at a clear case

+against the poverty-stricken artist who had

+dared set his own sacred person on a barrel and

+make him light an oil-stove.</p>

+

+<p>Kathleen's scarlet face and lambent eyes

+spoke her distress. Phil, faced with condoning<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_152" id="Page_152">[152]</a></span>

+the slur on his kind hostess, was bewildered and

+uncertain.</p>

+

+<p>Eliza saw it all and was the most disturbed

+of the four.</p>

+

+<p>"Oh, Mr. Fabian, it's all my fault!" she exclaimed,

+looking appealingly at Edgar. "Please

+stay for tea."</p>

+

+<p>"Really, you know," said Phil, "this is all a

+tempest in a tea-pot." He held up Aunt Mary's

+graceful old-colonial silver. "This one would

+be too big to hold it."</p>

+

+<p>"Come, Kath," said Edgar, ignoring them.

+"Will you come with me or shall I wait for you

+in the car?"</p>

+

+<p>Kathleen gave him an imploring look, but he

+was already moving to the door.</p>

+

+<p>Phil took an impulsive step toward her.

+"Perhaps you will stay," he said, in supreme

+discomfort. She gave him a little smile. "No,

+I mustn't," she answered gently. "I'm sorry I

+hadn't finished looking at the sketches."</p>

+

+<p>"May I bring them over to you?"</p>

+

+<p>She shook her head. "I go back to school in

+the morning. Good-bye, I wish you all success."</p>

+

+<p>Eliza stood with tight-clasped hands. It had

+been her fault that the bud of an acquaintance<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_153" id="Page_153">[153]</a></span>

+which might have been serviceable to her young

+friend had been blighted. They would tell Mrs.

+Fabian. She might visit her anger upon him.

+Eliza had never expected to feel gratitude

+toward one of the name, but her surprise was

+mingled with that sentiment when Kathleen

+now approached her, laying her smooth gloved

+hand on the rough clasped ones to say good-bye.</p>

+

+<p>"You are going to Brewster's Island?" she

+asked. "It is a strange time of year."</p>

+

+<p>"'Twas my home once," replied Eliza,

+tragedy of past and present so evident in her

+haggard face that a touch of pity stirred the

+girl's heart.</p>

+

+<p>"I heard," said Kathleen, "that Mrs. Wright

+is staying there. How can she in the desolate

+winter?"</p>

+

+<p>"I guess angels can live anywhere," responded

+Eliza. Her disturbed eyes met Kathleen's.

+"Miss Fabian," and her hard hand

+grasped the gloved one, "I don't care how cold

+the winter's goin' to be if only you'll promise

+me that I haven't done any harm to this boy

+here by my foolish talk. He ain't to blame if I

+seemed to&mdash;to speak about your mother.

+Don't, don't let her blame him for it. If I

+thought she would&mdash;if I thought I'd cut him<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_154" id="Page_154">[154]</a></span>

+off from friends&mdash;some day when I get to

+thinkin' about it up there on that hill I feel as if

+I should jump into the water and done with it."</p>

+

+<p>"I'll explain," said Kathleen gently. "I

+hope you'll have a good winter. I'm glad you

+will have Mrs. Wright."</p>

+

+<p>When the girl turned back, Edgar had gone;

+and the veil of perfunctoriness had fled from her

+host's eyes. He was looking at her as friend at

+friend.</p>

+

+<p>He escorted her downstairs, and out through

+the alley to the waiting limousine within

+which, with elevated feet, Edgar was already

+solacing himself with a cigarette. At sight of

+the approaching pair, he leaped from the car,

+and received his sister with hauteur.</p>

+

+<p>"Good-bye," said Phil composedly, when

+they were inside; "very good of you to come."</p>

+

+<p>He closed the door, the machine started, and

+he returned to the stable, where Pat received

+him with a grin, still standing where he had

+risen when Kathleen passed through a minute

+ago. "I say, me bye," he said huskily, jerking

+his thumb in the direction of the stairway, "the

+auld one above there&mdash;she's yer second best

+girl, I'm thinkin'. That one," pointing to the

+street, "she do be a princess all roight. She<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_155" id="Page_155">[155]</a></span>

+turned them lamps on me when she first come

+in and asked for you, and I felt chape 'cause the

+stairs wasn't marble; but look out, me son, I

+know that breed. She'll make ye toe the mark."</p>

+

+<p>Phil smiled. "To be honest with you, Pat,

+I have just one best girl," he said emphatically.</p>

+

+<p>Pat looked up at him with admiration.</p>

+

+<p>"Is she in New York, thin?"</p>

+

+<p>"Sometimes I think I shall get a glimpse of

+her here."</p>

+

+<p>"Sure if she knows where ye are ye will,

+thin!" said Pat devoutly. "How does she dress

+so I'll know her? I'll be on the watch."</p>

+

+<p>"Just now in scarlet and gold," said Phil,

+lifting his head and gazing beyond the stable

+wall.</p>

+

+<p>"Faith, she knows a thing or two," nodded

+Pat. "'Tis an old dodge, 'Red and Yeller,

+ketch a feller.'"</p>

+

+<p>"In winter she goes all in white," said Phil,

+"soft, pure, spotless."</p>

+

+<p>"Moighty wasteful fer the city!" said Pat

+seriously. " 'Twill be hard on yer pocket, me

+bye."</p>

+

+<p>"In spring she's in golden-green among the

+browns, but in summer, full, glorious green,

+Pat. Oh, she's a wonderful girl, a goddess!"</p>

+

+<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_156" id="Page_156">[156]</a></span></p>

+

+<p>"Sure she is if she knows that green's the

+best of all the game," exclaimed the Irishman.

+"Whin'll she be comin'?"</p>

+

+<p>"Ah, I have to go to her, Pat."</p>

+

+<p>"'Tis better so," agreed the other.</p>

+

+<p>"I've thought she might meet me sometime

+out in the park."</p>

+

+<p>"She can, sir." Pat gave Phil's shoulder a

+sounding slap.</p>

+

+<p>"But I notice the park gate is kept locked."</p>

+

+<p>"It is," agreed Pat, with shining face, "and

+'tis meself has a key. 'Twill be yours for the

+askin' any day in the week."</p>

+

+<p>"Great!" responded Phil. "I'll remember

+that."</p>

+

+<p>"And sure I'll be lookin'," thought Pat,

+watching the artist take the stairway in bounds.

+"The women'll mob that bye afore he gets

+through. Sure I'd like to see the gurl brings

+that look to his eyes."</p>

+

+<hr class="chap" />

+

+<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_157" id="Page_157">[157]</a></span></p>

+

+

+

+

+<div class="chapter">

+<h2>CHAPTER IX</h2>

+</div>

+

+<p class="ph3">HEIRLOOMS</p>

+

+

+<p>As the Fabian car started toward home, Edgar

+hoped his sister would rally him on his failure to

+chastise the puny artist from the West. Anything

+was better than one of Kathleen's "stills,"

+as he called his sister's periods of scornful

+silence. He was Kathleen's elder, he was her

+brother. By every law of propriety she should

+be guided by him and lean upon his opinions;

+but as he now reflected she was "more apt to

+jump on them."</p>

+

+<p>At present her sombre eyes looked straight

+ahead under the picture hat, and her countenance

+expressed only composure of mind and

+body. He had thrown away his cigarette, and

+he began to hum the favorite aria from "Madam

+Butterfly." Kathleen, if she spoke at all,

+would probably try to persuade him to say

+nothing to their mother of the scene just passed.

+He would offer her an opening for speech. Perhaps

+she was anxious in spite of her acted

+composure.</p>

+

+<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_158" id="Page_158">[158]</a></span></p>

+

+<p>"I heard 'Butterfly' last week," he said.

+"Farrar can have me."</p>

+

+<p>Silence.</p>

+

+<p>"Well," he looked around at the slender dark

+face with the eyes full of slumberous fire.

+"Well, why don't you get off one of those juices

+of yours about the fair Geraldine probably not

+being aware of her good luck, et cetera?"</p>

+

+<p>The chauffeur was playing with the speed

+limit. They would soon be at home. Kathleen

+realized that this would be the only opportunity

+to speak with her brother alone.</p>

+

+<p>She slowly turned her head and met his

+quickly averted gaze. "You are not usually so

+chivalrous toward mother," she said. "Why did

+you think it worth while to make such a fuss?"</p>

+

+<p>"Twitting on facts is bad taste," declared

+Edgar with his usual air of insouciance. If

+his sister would only talk, all would be well.</p>

+

+<p>"What do you mean by that?"</p>

+

+<p>"Why, Aunt Mary's faithful retainer showed

+the poorest possible taste. She said if mother

+knew that those antiques were left unprotected

+by anything but the oil-stove, she would

+prance over to that stable and nab them."</p>

+

+<p>Kathleen stared at him. "Do you mean that

+she would?"</p>

+

+<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_159" id="Page_159">[159]</a></span></p>

+

+<p>"Like a shot," responded Edgar cheerfully.

+"Wasn't I bound to resent it?"</p>

+

+<p>Kathleen kept silence a space. Since she had

+been at home this time, her mother had told her

+with some excitement of Eliza's presumption in

+retaining articles of no value to a servant.</p>

+

+<p>"And whether I was warranted or not," went

+on Edgar, elated by her muteness, "'there

+comes an opportunity in the lives of men'

+which seldom knocks on a man's door the second

+time. I flatter myself I was quick enough

+to shut the box between that wild and woolly

+Westerner and us, so that he won't expect anything

+more of <em>me</em>, in any event."</p>

+

+<p>"I should think not," returned Kathleen

+slowly. "The childish way you took your playthings

+and went home was ridiculous."</p>

+

+<p>Edgar's face flamed. "Don't be nasty, Kathleen,

+just because you know how," he said,

+dropping his careless tone. "No doubt you

+thought it was very funny to see me lifted about

+like a doll, and on my knees lighting a stove. I

+went there to please you, but I can tell you a

+very little of alleys and stables will do for me.

+When I go slumming it'll be where the poor

+know their place and know mine."</p>

+

+<p>"Oh, Edgar," said Kathleen hopelessly.<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_160" id="Page_160">[160]</a></span>

+"Well, is it your intention to tell mother what

+happened?"</p>

+

+<p>"I'm going to keep that up my sleeve. It

+may come in handy sometime."</p>

+

+<p>"It would hurt her feelings, and do no good,"

+said the girl.</p>

+

+<p>"Do no good? What! Not if it kept her from

+inviting the cowboy early and often to the

+house? Oh, yes, I've no doubt he's got you all

+right. He's a looker, and girls are all alike."</p>

+

+<p>Kathleen did not condescend to notice this

+thrust. Her eyes turned back to gaze upon the

+road as it flew beneath their car. "Don't lie

+awake planning to avoid Mr. Sidney," she said

+quietly. "He will probably always see you first;

+but from the moment you tell mother about

+this petty little scene we've just passed through,

+you need never come to me for assistance in any

+line. I shall not give it to you."</p>

+

+<p>Stealing a side glance at his sister's face,

+Edgar Fabian knew that she meant what she

+said.</p>

+

+<p>"Supposing," she went on presently, "that

+you had smoothed over an awkward moment,

+and that we had had tea in Aunt Mary's egg-shell

+cups, and had let that brave fellow think

+he was giving us pleasure, and that you had<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_161" id="Page_161">[161]</a></span>

+sung something to his mandolin in your charming

+voice;&mdash;think of the difference in situation

+to us all. Instead of four hurt people, scattering,

+and feeling awkward and ashamed, we

+should have given the stranger in a strange

+land a little housewarming to begin life with

+here."</p>

+

+<p>"Not four hurt people, if you please," retorted

+Edgar with bravado; but he was surprised,

+and somewhat affected by his sister's

+picture. His charming voice would doubtless

+have increased the host's respect for him.</p>

+

+<p>"I expect sometime, of course," he went on

+with a superior air, "to be a patron of the arts

+to a certain extent. If the cowboy makes good,

+and learns to keep his hands off his betters, I

+may do something for him yet."</p>

+

+<p>Kathleen's risibles were not easily stirred;

+but now she laughed low, and so heartily that

+Edgar's inflation over her compliment to his

+voice became as a pricked balloon. She even

+wiped away a tear as she ceased.</p>

+

+<p>"Philip Sidney is going to interest the patrons

+of art," she said at last.</p>

+

+<p>"What makes you so sure?" asked Edgar

+with a sneer. "His physique?"</p>

+

+<p>"His sketches, his superiority to his circum<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_162" id="Page_162">[162]</a></span>stances,

+and his behavior to Eliza," returned

+Kathleen composedly.</p>

+

+<p>"Great Scott!" exclaimed her brother. "I'd

+like to see myself saddled with that gargoyle

+and a wild-cat, in an unfurnished stable on a

+dismal afternoon."</p>

+

+<p>"Yes, you've shown your sympathy and

+assistance in a manly and powerful manner,"

+said Kathleen, as the car stopped before the

+brown-stone front of their home.</p>

+

+<p>"Sarcasm, Miss Fabian," returned her brother,

+as he assisted her to alight, "is the cheapest

+and meanest of weapons. Each one to his

+taste. That state of things suited him. It

+wouldn't suit me. That's all. It takes all

+sorts of people to make the world."</p>

+

+<p>Mrs. Fabian was in the drawing-room, and as

+her children entered she looked up expectantly,

+then her face fell.</p>

+

+<p>"I told you to bring Phil back with you to

+tea."</p>

+

+<p>"I forgot it, mother, really," said Kathleen.

+She sat down and began taking off her gloves.

+"But he couldn't have come."</p>

+

+<p>"No," added Edgar. "He had a guest;

+your friend Eliza Brewster was there with her

+cat."</p>

+

+<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_163" id="Page_163">[163]</a></span></p>

+

+<p>"Eliza!" echoed Mrs. Fabian, sitting up. "Is

+she going to cook for Philip?"</p>

+

+<p>"No," said Kathleen. "She is going to

+Brewster's Island to-night."</p>

+

+<p>"I tried," added Edgar, "to get her to send

+you the cat as a souvenir, but she refused."</p>

+

+<p>"I'm glad she is leaving town," said Mrs.

+Fabian. "She is a very ungrateful person and I

+detest ingratitude. Moreover, a person who is

+in an anomalous position is always annoying,

+and Aunt Mary made Eliza so much a member

+of her family that the woman doesn't know her

+place. What was she doing over at Phil's?"</p>

+

+<p>"Overseeing the moving in of Aunt Mary's

+dunnage," replied Edgar.</p>

+

+<p>"Why! Has he more than one room?" asked

+Mrs. Fabian with interest.</p>

+

+<p>"No, mother," said Kathleen, in a tone designed

+to offset Edgar's sprightly scorn. "He

+has just one, and nothing in it but piles of

+Indian blankets and a table and chair."</p>

+

+<p>"The chair for Eliza, mind you," put in

+Edgar, "while Kathleen and I were stowed on

+the floor."</p>

+

+<p>A spark glowed in the girl's eyes as she regarded

+her brother. "He let you sit on a barrel,

+I remember," she said.</p>

+

+<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_164" id="Page_164">[164]</a></span></p>

+

+<p>"Oh, yes," returned Edgar; "and speaking of

+barrels," he went on, a belligerent spark glowing

+in his eyes, "a ripping thing happened.

+All this old stuff came over while we were there,

+and among them a barrel of dishes. Well, Sidney

+opened it and began taking out the things,

+but instead of the coarse stuff Eliza had meant

+to give him, there were gold-banded china, and

+colonial silver tea-things&mdash;"</p>

+

+<p>Mrs. Fabian's backbone suddenly seemed of

+steel. "Aunt Mary had a few fine old things,"

+she interrupted.</p>

+

+<p>"Well, there they were. She'd given Sidney

+the wrong barrel. You should have seen her

+face. She was ready to faint."</p>

+

+<p>"You say she leaves to-night?" Mrs.

+Fabian's eyes were looking far away through

+the wall of her house toward Gramercy Park.

+"Philip won't want the care of those delicate

+old things," she added. "I'll get some proper

+ones for him in the morning."</p>

+

+<p>Edgar laughed gleefully, none the less that

+Kathleen's lips were grave.</p>

+

+<p>"If I were you, mother," said the girl, "I

+would let them work it out. Eliza seems to

+have taken the helm over there."</p>

+

+<p>"Of course she has," agreed Mrs. Fabian<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_165" id="Page_165">[165]</a></span>

+sharply. "Taking is Eliza's forte. That china

+and silver belonged to my grandmother. If

+Aunt Mary didn't have enough thoughtfulness

+to leave it to me in writing, is that any reason

+it should not be mine?"</p>

+

+<p>"Aunt Mary knew," said Kathleen, "that

+you had everything you wanted."</p>

+

+<p>"Everything I needed, perhaps," retorted

+Mrs. Fabian, with excitement, "but I certainly

+want my own grandmother's things; and Providence

+has thrown them into my hands. I shall

+explain everything to Philip and he will be glad

+to have me take them. Isn't he all that I said

+he was, Kathleen?"</p>

+

+<p>"He is very interesting," returned Kathleen

+quietly.</p>

+

+<p>Then she rose and went to the door. Edgar

+followed her uneasily to the foot of the stairs.</p>

+

+<p>"I'm not going to peach, Kath, don't worry,"

+he said. "I'll keep the compact. I just wanted

+to prove to you that I knew the <i lang="la" xml:lang="la">mater</i>."</p>

+

+<p>His sister turned on him. "I told you that

+you should have been the girl and I the man,"

+she said; and he winced under the contempt of

+her look. "If mother gets those things to-morrow,

+the result for you will be just what I

+promised. I shall never be at your call again."</p>

+

+<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_166" id="Page_166">[166]</a></span></p>

+

+<p>"You said&mdash;" began Edgar, perturbed.</p>

+

+<p>But Kathleen ran swiftly upstairs. Her

+brother returned to the drawing-room.</p>

+

+<p>"What's the matter with Kathleen?" inquired

+Mrs. Fabian. "She behaved so

+strangely."</p>

+

+<p>"Oh," returned Edgar, shaking his head as if

+exasperated beyond patience, "Kath's a stiff.

+She can't see a joke if she runs into it. Now, I

+think that barrel business was funny, don't

+you?"</p>

+

+<p>"It's something more than funny," returned

+Mrs. Fabian impressively. "It's Providence,

+as I said."</p>

+

+<p>"Well, now, I'll wager," declared her son

+argumentatively, "that if you take the law

+into your own hands and bring that old truck

+over here, Kathleen will cut us both."</p>

+

+<p>"What in the world is the reason? Was she

+so impressed with Philip? I think he's irresistible

+myself, but Kathleen is so unimpressionable&mdash;and

+beside, he won't disapprove."</p>

+

+<p>"I'm not so sure. He treats Eliza as if she

+was the one best bet. I don't pretend to know

+all Kath thinks. She's a high-brow and a crank.

+Do you suppose she'd look at a man unless he

+was a college professor? I guess not."</p>

+

+<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_167" id="Page_167">[167]</a></span></p>

+

+<p>"Don't speak of your sister so, Edgar. You

+have reason to be grateful that she is not an

+ordinary silly flirt."</p>

+

+<p>"Flirt!" ejaculated Edgar, with rolling eyes.

+"Do you suppose she'd sit on the stairs with

+anything but a Latin book, or flirt with anything

+but a microscope?"</p>

+

+<p>"Well, then, you don't have to worry about

+her?"</p>

+

+<p>"Don't I!" retorted Edgar laconically.</p>

+

+<p>"I must say," pursued Mrs. Fabian virtuously,

+"it is too much for Kathleen always to

+expect me to hold her judgment superior to

+mine. I shall do in this matter what I see fit."</p>

+

+<p>"Then it's all up with me," observed Edgar.</p>

+

+<p>"What do you mean?"</p>

+

+<p>"She'll visit it on me. She always does."

+Edgar was beginning to wish that he had not

+played with fire. "Beside, in this case, Eliza

+says that old stuff belongs to her; is hers to do

+as she pleases with."</p>

+

+<p>"Yes," returned Mrs. Fabian, with righteous

+indignation. "Possession is nine tenths of the

+law; and if I get that possession we'll see what

+the law can do for her!"</p>

+

+<p>"Oh," protested Edgar petulantly, "why do

+you want to bother with it?"</p>

+

+<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_168" id="Page_168">[168]</a></span></p>

+

+<p>His mother's eyes were glistening. In fancy

+she saw the convenient barrel in which was

+compactly stowed Aunt Mary's little store of

+heirlooms.</p>

+

+<p>"Because," she answered with dignity, "genuine

+old things like that are not to be despised.

+They would be just the thing at the

+island."</p>

+

+<p>"That's what Eliza thought," said Edgar

+drily.</p>

+

+<p>"The idea," exclaimed Mrs. Fabian, "of

+her using such things in the sort of home she'll

+have!"</p>

+

+<p>"Perhaps she'll console Mrs. Wright with

+them," said Edgar. "You were pitying her last

+night for her winter exile."</p>

+

+<p>"If she did, Mrs. Wright would give them

+back to me at once," declared Mrs. Fabian;

+"but never mind, there will be no need now.

+Providence has thrown them right into my

+hands. Occasionally you can see justice work

+out in this world."</p>

+

+<p>Edgar looked toward the portières. Kathleen

+might return. There was no sign of any one

+approaching, however.</p>

+

+<p>"Well, I'm in wrong with Kath for having

+spoken of it, then," he said. "Let me have<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_169" id="Page_169">[169]</a></span>

+twenty, will you, mother? You can afford to

+on the strength of the heirlooms."</p>

+

+<p>"I can't, Edgar."</p>

+

+<p>"Ten, then; you owe me that much, I'm

+sure."</p>

+

+<p>Mrs. Fabian's lips took a tight line.</p>

+

+<p>"You know, Edgar," she said impressively,

+"your father has forbidden me to give you

+money. He says you must learn the worth of

+it."</p>

+

+<p>The youth shrugged his shoulders impatiently,

+and throwing himself into an easy-chair,

+stretched his legs toward the blazing

+logs and stared at the fire with the gloom of

+one who feels that he has killed the goose

+that laid the golden eggs. He had not, however,

+told of Eliza's insult and his own wrathful

+departure from the stable. He could defend

+himself to Kathleen so far, when next

+they met, and it might possibly soften her

+heart.</p>

+

+<hr class="tb" />

+

+<p>When Philip Sidney bounded up the stable

+stairs, he came in upon Eliza, who was standing

+as he had left her, and with such a woe-begone

+expression that, meeting her tragical gaze, he

+burst into a peal of laughter.</p>

+

+<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_170" id="Page_170">[170]</a></span></p>

+

+<p>"Oh, Mr. Philip, Mr. Philip!" she mourned.

+"I've spoiled everything."</p>

+

+<p>"What! Let the kettle boil over?"</p>

+

+<p>"No, no; you'll make light of it for my sake;

+but I've turned the Fabians against you! That

+pert little bantam will go home and tell his

+mother everything, and it'll make a lot o' difference.

+They might have been lots o' use to you."</p>

+

+<p>"Don't borrow trouble, Eliza. I'm not going

+to have our last visit spoiled. I don't make use

+of my friends anyway; and beside, I'm going to

+be too busy to have any. Come, now, make the

+tea. I want to see you drink so much that you

+'swell wisibly before my wery eyes.' Shall we

+use this fine old silver jug?"</p>

+

+<p>"Mr. Sidney." Eliza wrung her hands.

+"You're awful smart and strong; can we get

+this barrel headed up again and off to the depot

+to-night?"</p>

+

+<p>"Why," Phil hesitated, "I suppose so, but

+wouldn't you rather have your tea in comfort

+now, before we go out to dinner, and let me do

+the barrel to-morrow and send it off?"</p>

+

+<p>"There wouldn't be any barrel," returned

+Eliza darkly. "Not unless you packed and sent

+it before you went to your school."</p>

+

+<p>"Why not?"</p>

+

+<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_171" id="Page_171">[171]</a></span></p>

+

+<p>"You heard me tell 'em right to their face,"

+said Eliza.</p>

+

+<p>"Oh, surely," protested Phil, "you don't

+think Mrs. Fabian would do anything highhanded?"</p>

+

+<p>"Wouldn't she, though?" returned Eliza.

+"She hasn't got over it yet that Mrs. Ballard

+sent your mother a diamond pin and didn't

+leave her anything."</p>

+

+<p>Phil looked puzzled. "Why didn't Aunt

+Mary remember Aunt Isabel?" he asked.</p>

+

+<p>"To tell the truth, I don't think Mrs.

+Ballard meant to slight her. She just didn't

+think anything about it. She knew Mrs. Fabian

+was rich, and didn't suppose she'd care for

+any of her little things. Your mother always

+acted human toward her, and was her namesake,

+and 'twas natural she should send her

+something."</p>

+

+<p>"Well, well; have a cup of tea anyway."

+Eliza's pallor went to her host's heart. He

+went to the window and brought in the lemon

+and sugar.</p>

+

+<p>Eliza followed him with her eyes.</p>

+

+<p>"Do you think you can, Mr. Sidney?" she

+asked, her hands interlocked.</p>

+

+<p>"Can what?"</p>

+

+<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_172" id="Page_172">[172]</a></span></p>

+

+<p>"Do the barrel. I'll never forget it of you,"

+she said fervently.</p>

+

+<p>"I can't believe there's any necessity for

+such haste. Pat's a good watch-dog so far as

+thieves are concerned."</p>

+

+<p>"You don't know what you're talking about,

+Mr. Sidney. Trust me, it's my only chance

+to save the dishes; and I tell you she might have

+the whole kit and boodle of 'em and welcome, if

+she'd been kind, or even decent to that little

+angel. 'T ain't the silver and things I want.

+It's to keep 'em away from her."</p>

+

+<p>Phil could see that Eliza was trembling in her

+intensity. She had shaken her head until she

+had again loosened the grey locks about her

+gaunt face.</p>

+

+<p>"I don't care anything about anything to eat,

+Mr. Sidney," she went on. "I can head up the

+barrel myself in some kind of a way, but it's

+got to go to the depot or else I don't, and my

+berth's all paid for."</p>

+

+<p>"How did you ever happen to be born in

+New England?" returned Phil meditatively,

+noting her clenched hands. "You and Bernhardt

+would have been rivals. Settle down

+comfortably now. Make the tea and I'll

+head up the barrel after you have used one<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_173" id="Page_173">[173]</a></span>

+of these cups. If necessary, we'll ride on the

+wagon."</p>

+

+<p>"Oh, Mr. Sidney, <em>can</em> we ride on the wagon?"

+exclaimed Eliza in a frenzy of gratitude.</p>

+

+<p>Phil laughed. "Anyway, the barrel shall

+leave here to-night. I'll take one of my brushes

+and do such high-art addressing that it will

+follow you meekly to the island. Don't you

+worry another moment. I guarantee it."</p>

+

+<p>"Then it'll have to leave here before we do,"

+persisted Eliza.</p>

+

+<p>"It shall leave here before we do. Now, are

+you satisfied?"</p>

+

+<p>Eliza heaved a deep sigh of relief and proceeded

+to make the tea.</p>

+

+<p>Phil was inclined to be impatient with her

+fears; but the next day, when he returned from

+the Academy, Pat met him with a grin.</p>

+

+<p>"Sure ye're the divil of a bye," he said with

+an expansive gesture. "I'll have to put on a

+biled shirt every day to resave yer company.

+'T was no less than the Queen o' Sheby came to

+see ye this mornin' an' you not gone tin

+minutes."</p>

+

+<p>"A lady&mdash;the one who was here yesterday?"</p>

+

+<p>"Sure 't was no slip of a girl in a big hat to-day,

+'T was a queen, I'm tellin' ye. She rolled<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_174" id="Page_174">[174]</a></span>

+up in her motor car an' come here an' knocked

+on me door, an' me without a collar on. She

+was dressed in furs an' looked like she owned

+the earth.</p>

+

+<p>"'I wish to see Mr. Sidney,' says she.</p>

+

+<p>"'Thin ye'll have to go farther, mum,' says I.

+'Ye'll find him at the paintin' school,' says I.</p>

+

+<p>"She didn't need any paint herself, I'm

+tellin' ye. She got rid in the face while she was

+talkin'.</p>

+

+<p>"'I'm his aunt,' says she, haughty-like, 'an'

+as long as I'm here I'll see his room,' says she;

+an' wid that she wint up them stairs like they

+belonged to her. I heerd her movin' around, an'

+I hurried to button me collar an' slick up.

+Presently I dropped the comb, for I heerd her

+comin' back. Before she'd got away downstairs,

+'What have ye done wid the barrel?'

+says she. 'What bar'l? ' says I. 'The wan Mr.

+Sidney had here last night,' says she. Thin I

+remembered there was wan. 'It moved out,'

+says I, 'wid his company,' says I. 'What company?'

+says she, and her eyes snapped the way

+I expected to hear her say, 'Off with his head!'</p>

+

+<p>"'A lady,' says I, 'wid a cat in a basket.

+'T was a reg'lar movin',' says I.</p>

+

+<p>"She bit her lip, and muttered: 'Just like<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_175" id="Page_175">[175]</a></span>

+her!' I heerd her plain, though she wasn't

+lookin' at me no more. Take an auld man's

+advice, me bye. Kape away from the Queen o'

+Sheby for a while; an' if ye don't tell me what

+was in that bar'l rollin' up an' down stairs like

+a restless soul, I'll be havin' the nightmare,

+sure."</p>

+

+<p>Phil laughed, and shook his head. "The ways

+of women, Pat," he said, "are so far beyond me

+that I can't even guess."</p>

+

+<p>"Can't guess what was in the bar'l? Tell me,

+now, or ye'll not git the key to the park nor

+meet yer sweetheart."</p>

+

+<p>"There were dishes and silver in that barrel,

+Pat. Each of the women thinks she owns

+them."</p>

+

+<p>"I'd bet on the Queen o' Sheby," said Pat.</p>

+

+<p>"You'd lose, then," returned Phil, running

+upstairs.</p>

+

+<hr class="chap" />

+

+<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_176" id="Page_176">[176]</a></span></p>

+

+

+

+

+<div class="chapter">

+<h2>CHAPTER X</h2>

+</div>

+

+<p class="ph3">THE ARRIVAL</p>

+

+

+<p>Eliza Brewster reached Portland in time for

+breakfast; and the hours she must spend before

+the one afternoon boat started for the island

+were embarrassing ones on account of Pluto.

+She had a cup of coffee and an egg in the station,

+and then lifted her heavy basket on the

+car and rode across the city to the wharf.</p>

+

+<p>Setting the cat at liberty she followed him

+about, and held him on her lap, alternately,

+until passengers were allowed to board the

+steamer. The captain and purser were new to

+her. She glanced about the cabin as she sat, her

+arms clasped about the basket, out of whose

+window Pluto's eyes were again glowering.

+Eliza dreaded recognizing some one she knew;

+but no recognition occurred, and she had ample

+time in the two hours' ride to meditate on past

+and future. Many years had fled since she last

+saw Casco Bay. She and Mrs. Ballard had

+spent a couple of weeks at Brewster's Island one

+summer, but it had been their farewell to out<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_177" id="Page_177">[177]</a></span>ings

+further from home than Coney Island.

+She had not enjoyed the experience because of

+wrathful resentment at the neglect of Mrs.

+Fabian, then a bride; but Mrs. Ballard had

+revelled in the natural beauty which feasted her

+soul. Eliza evoked the memory now and smiled

+grimly with satisfaction at the consideration

+that the precious barrel was safely starting on

+its journey after her.</p>

+

+<p>She met her cat's green gaze through his

+wire window. "If I set more value on my life

+than I do, Pluto," she muttered, "I'd risk it

+on Mrs. Fabian visitin' a certain stable this

+mornin'. Then Mr. Philip'll know, and he'll

+forgive me."</p>

+

+<p>Her heart warmed as she thought of the jolly

+kindness of her late host; of his assiduity and

+care for her comfort; of the milk he had fed to

+Pluto, and the hot beefsteak to herself.</p>

+

+<p>"That supper last night cost him a lot o'

+money. I know it did!" she thought remorsefully,

+"but," with a revulsion of affectionate

+concern, "I hope he'll eat good and not slight

+himself when he's alone. There's such a lot of

+him to nourish."</p>

+

+<p>It was the sort of dismal weather which inspired

+the description, "No sun, no moon, no<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_178" id="Page_178">[178]</a></span>

+stars, November!" and Eliza dreaded the return

+to her old changed home. Her heart beat

+a little faster as the steamer ploughed along,

+each minute bringing her nearer to that especial

+hill rising from the waters of Casco Bay where

+she first opened her eyes to life. Memories of

+those dead and gone assailed her until her eyes

+stung.</p>

+

+<p>"I'd like to know," she thought sternly, "if

+there's as ungrateful a critter in the universe.

+S'posin' I was goin' to the island to nobody?

+S'posin' I'd been seen off in New York by nobody?

+That's what I'd expected to happen two

+weeks ago."</p>

+

+<p>Eliza gazed rebukingly at the steam radiator

+in the middle of the cabin until her tears ceased.</p>

+

+<p>She had not slept much in her unaccustomed

+bed on the sleeping-car, impeded by the heavy

+basket and her own hand-bag, and the fear of

+how Pluto might behave at the stops; so the

+boat ride seemed long, and it was with relief

+that she at last heard the summons:&mdash;</p>

+

+<p>"Brewster's Island. Land from the lower

+deck."</p>

+

+<p>"Praise be!" she thought. "I haven't got to

+lug my things upstairs."</p>

+

+<p>There were but few passengers to get off at<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_179" id="Page_179">[179]</a></span>

+this island, and but few persons standing in the

+raw air on the wharf.</p>

+

+<p>There was a lump in Eliza's throat as she

+carried her burdens up the gangplank, but

+through the mist in her eyes she saw a face she

+recognized. It was lean, and smooth-shaven,

+and had scarcely grown more lined in twenty

+years. The man met her gaze with alert scrutiny

+and then looked beyond her for some one.

+The gangplank was drawn in.</p>

+

+<p>"James," said Eliza, when she had swallowed.</p>

+

+<p>The alert, searching eyes returned to her, and

+looked, at first, without recognition.</p>

+

+<p>"Don't tell me you don't know me, James,"

+added the traveller, trying to laugh.</p>

+

+<p>"Why, Eliza Brewster, I was runnin' over

+ye," said the captain in hasty amazement.

+"You&mdash;you've grown some spare, Eliza. Just

+at first I didn't see who't wuz." The kindly

+speaker endeavored to conceal his dismay.

+"Amazin' how a little flesh off or on'll change a

+body," he added. "Here, let me take your

+bundles. Carriage right up here waitin' for us.

+Mrs. Wright sent me down to meet ye. Kinder

+homely day, ain't it?"</p>

+

+<p>"That's a cat, James," said Eliza as he<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_180" id="Page_180">[180]</a></span>

+seized the basket. "You see, I'm a real old

+maid, travellin' with a cat."</p>

+

+<p>"Well, it's all right, I s'pose," returned the

+captain gallantly, as they walked up the wharf

+toward the waiting carry-all; "but 't would 'a'

+been more to the point if ye'd brought somethin'

+that was kind of a rarity on the island. We

+could 'a' supplied ye with a cat fer every day in

+the week, black, white, malty, whatever ye

+wanted. Well! how ye been, Eliza?"</p>

+

+<p>"I guess you can see," returned Eliza laconically.</p>

+

+<p>"Well, well," said Cap'n James. He helped

+her into the carriage and followed. "Git ap,

+Tom. Mrs. Wright'll fat ye up in no time. She

+says you're goin' to stay with her."</p>

+

+<p>"Yes, for a while I am." Eliza's eyes were

+travelling over the familiar rolling landscape.

+"How does she make out here?"</p>

+

+<p>"Don't seem to complain none. Mr. Wright

+has settled down like a round peg in a round

+hole. Brewster's Island's good enough for

+him."</p>

+

+<p>"My, my! How it's changed!" murmured

+Eliza as one unexpected roof after another rose

+into view.</p>

+

+<p>"I s'pose that's so," agreed Captain James.<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_181" id="Page_181">[181]</a></span>

+"You can't stay away even from one o' these

+islands a dozen years or so without seein' the

+foot o' man encroachin'. It's good fer trade,

+Eliza, good fer trade. Lots o' the roofs ye see

+cover empty cottages now, but come summer

+time the place swarms all right. The Fabians

+got enough room to swing a cat in. Nobody can

+come very near them; but the rest o' the island's

+pretty well dotted here and there."</p>

+

+<p>"It don't look like the place I was brought

+up," said Eliza.</p>

+

+<p>They had reached the height of the road now,

+and her wistful eyes fell on a cove which pierced

+the island's side. Its softly rising banks were

+studded with evergreen trees, standing black

+above the black water. A threatening sky hung

+sullenly over all.</p>

+

+<p>"'Tain't the place you was brought up,"

+returned Captain James cheerfully. "It's a

+darned sight more prosperous place. While the

+summer folks are restin' up, we're makin' hay

+and cuttin' ice, as ye might say; and come fall

+we get shet of 'em and go back to a quiet life.

+No one can't say this ain't a quiet life, can they,

+Eliza?"</p>

+

+<p>Captain James reined in the horse before

+taking the Foster Hill, and compassion showed<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_182" id="Page_182">[182]</a></span>

+in his kindly eyes as he turned and watched

+the grey face of his passenger.</p>

+

+<p>"Eliza Brewster used to be a pretty girl,"

+was his pitiful thought.</p>

+

+<p>She kept silence, her pale eyes resting on the

+dark waters of the cove, austerely quiet in the

+windless twilight.</p>

+

+<p>"Feels like snow," said Captain James.

+"S'pose you could snowball now, Eliza? I know

+when we were youngsters you could hold yer

+own with any boy on the island."</p>

+

+<p>"That's my one talent, James," responded

+Eliza drily. "I can hold my own yet."</p>

+

+<p>The captain smiled with relief at this sign

+that some of the old spirit lingered behind that

+haggard face.</p>

+

+<p>"By cracky," he said, "I'll bring up a bob-sled

+after the first snow, and we'll toboggan downhill

+again, Eliza. Never say die. Git ap, Tom."</p>

+

+<p>The carriage started up toward a long low

+white house on the summit of the ridge. Four

+bare Balm of Gilead trees stood sentinel before

+it in a waste of withered grass. Beyond rose the

+gnarled boughs of a struggling apple orchard,

+beside which a tiny house with blank uncurtained

+windows stood beneath the forlorn guard

+of two more gaunt bare trees standing ready for<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_183" id="Page_183">[183]</a></span>

+the conflict with winter winds, and bearing the

+scars of many a battle past. Back of the little

+building was a shallow field inclining downward

+to the open ocean which held the island now

+in its black, mighty embrace, creeping with a

+subdued roar upon the cold rocky sands.</p>

+

+<p>"Say, Eliza," said Captain James, as the

+tiny deserted cottage came into view, "was we

+afraid o' Granny Foster, was we? Say!"</p>

+

+<p>The speaker turned and interrogated his

+passenger with a twinkle.</p>

+

+<p>A wan smile rewarded him.</p>

+

+<p>"Afterward Jenny used it for chickens, Mrs.

+Wright says," she returned.</p>

+

+<p>"Yes; but there never was an old hen there

+that come up to Granny Foster, you bet."</p>

+

+<p>"How long ago does that seem to you,

+James?" asked Eliza, after a pause.</p>

+

+<p>"As if 'twas yesterday," he responded

+valiantly.</p>

+

+<p>His memory was picturing the little girl in

+plaid gingham and sunbonnet who could outrun

+any boy on the island. That sunbonnet was

+never in place, but always hung down Eliza's

+back, the strings tied at her throat. Captain

+James remembered to have thought there was

+something very pleasing about that throat.</p>

+

+<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_184" id="Page_184">[184]</a></span></p>

+

+<p>"It seems a hundred years ago to me," said

+Eliza quietly.</p>

+

+<p>"Whew! You must 'a' lived fast in New

+York," returned Captain James. "That's an

+awful record."</p>

+

+<p>"Do you suppose I'll ever get used to the

+stillness again, James? I believe if a pin was to

+drop in this grass you could hear it."</p>

+

+<p>"Guess Nature'll make rumpus enough for

+ye before long," returned the captain. "You've

+never tried it up on this hill, Eliza. I guess

+when the pebbles and rocks begin draggin'

+around below there at high tide, you won't miss

+the elevated trains none."</p>

+

+<p>The horse was climbing slowly and patiently

+as they talked, and a woman within the old

+farmhouse was watching the ascent from a

+window. Now the watcher disappeared, and

+presently the house door opened and a figure

+came out on the stone step.</p>

+

+<p>"There's Mrs. Wright now. Git ap, Tom."</p>

+

+<p>A gleam came into Eliza's pale eyes. It was

+an attractive figure that stood there in dark

+blue gown and white apron. The silver aureole

+of hair framed a smiling face. Eliza grasped the

+handles of Pluto's basket.</p>

+

+<p>"To think that after all the years I should<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_185" id="Page_185">[185]</a></span>

+have a homecoming on this island!" was her

+grateful thought.</p>

+

+<p>"Here we are," called Captain James cheerfully

+as they approached; "little box, big box,

+bandbox, and bundle, and the cat."</p>

+

+<p>Mrs. Wright approached as the carry-all

+stopped.</p>

+

+<p>"Did you really bring a cat, Eliza?" she

+asked, laughing.</p>

+

+<p>"Why,&mdash;why," stammered Eliza, "it never

+once came to me till this minute that perhaps

+you don't like cats!"</p>

+

+<p>"I like everything alive," was the response;

+and the speaker looked it, as she received the

+cat-basket, and Eliza stepped out on the grass.</p>

+

+<p>"But does Mr. Wright?" inquired Eliza in

+perturbation. Was it Pluto's destiny to become

+a wild-cat after travelling by land and sea!</p>

+

+<p>That gentleman now appeared, stout and

+with tousled hair, which suggested that he had

+just risen from slumber.</p>

+

+<p>"This is Eliza Brewster, Morris, and she has

+brought us a pet," said Mrs. Wright pleasantly.</p>

+

+<p>The host shook hands with the newcomer

+with sufficient grace and eyed the basket curiously.

+Captain James looked benignly on the

+group.</p>

+

+<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_186" id="Page_186">[186]</a></span></p>

+

+<p>"Eliza and me have been lookin' backward as

+we came along," he said. "We used to race and

+tear around this hill&mdash;she says 'twas a hundred

+years ago, but don't you believe it. I'm

+goin' to bring a bob-sled, first snow, and sail her

+down the hill and make her think 'twa'n't

+more'n yesterday that we did it last."</p>

+

+<p>The smile on Eliza's haggard face but made

+her fatigue more evident.</p>

+

+<p>"Where's the trunk, Cap'n James?" asked

+Mrs. Wright.</p>

+

+<p>"I'm goin' to fetch it right up. Git ap, Tom."</p>

+

+<p>"Hurry in, Mrs. Wright," said Eliza, her

+care-taking instinct asserting itself. "You'll

+take cold."</p>

+

+<p>"Not a bit of it," was the reply as the hostess

+led the way in; "I never take anything that

+doesn't belong to me."</p>

+

+<p>There was a cheerful fire blazing in the living-room

+and Eliza was at once seated before it and

+made to feel for a second time like an honored

+guest.</p>

+

+<p>"I'll let Pluto out, first thing, if you don't

+mind," she said, and unfastened the basket.</p>

+

+<p>Mr. Wright, his eyes indolently curious under

+the rumpled grey hair, watched the proceeding.</p>

+

+<p>"A Manx cat," he remarked as the prisoner<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_187" id="Page_187">[187]</a></span>

+leaped out. Pluto's green eyes blazed in the

+moment that he stood and looked about him.</p>

+

+<p>"Here, poor thing," said Eliza, "your troubles

+are over. There's a fire such as you've

+never seen in all your days."</p>

+

+<p>But the outraged cat scorned the fire, scorned

+even Eliza's caressing hand. Leaping from her

+touch he descried the lounge; and thanking the

+gods of his Egyptian ancestors that at last he

+had reached a place where furniture accorded

+hiding-places, he dashed into the darkest corner

+its valance concealed.</p>

+

+<p>"He's kind o' put out by all he's been

+through," said Eliza apologetically.</p>

+

+<p>Mr. Wright went to the couch and stooping

+lifted the valance.</p>

+

+<p>"Shall I get him for you?" he asked.</p>

+

+<p>Two green eyes blazed at him from the darkness

+and a vigorous spitting warned him away.</p>

+

+<p>"Please just let him sulk a little while," said

+Eliza hastily. Supposing Pluto should inaugurate

+their visit by scratching the host! Awful

+thought! "He's a real good cat in his way,"

+she added.</p>

+

+<p>"Well, I'm certainly not invited under the

+lounge," said Mr. Wright, straightening up.</p>

+

+<p>"I didn't know anybody to give him to,"<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_188" id="Page_188">[188]</a></span>

+went on Eliza, still apologetic. "Mr. Sidney

+said he would have taken him if he'd known."</p>

+

+<p>"Mr. Sidney. That's Mrs. Ballard's young

+artist, isn't it?" asked Mrs. Wright, who was

+boiling a kettle over an alcohol lamp at a tea-table

+in the corner of the room.</p>

+

+<p>"Yes&mdash;we spent our last day with him in

+his stable."</p>

+

+<p>"His what, Eliza?"</p>

+

+<p>"His stable. He's found one for a studio in

+a real stylish place up in Gramercy Park where

+the folks have gone to Europe. He's as tickled

+as if he owned the whole big house."</p>

+

+<p>"I'm glad he's found a place to suit him.

+You like him very much, don't you, Eliza?"</p>

+

+<p>"He couldn't be any better," said Eliza simply.

+"We'd 'a' had a real nice visit only the

+Fabian children came in, Edgar and Kathleen."</p>

+

+<p>"Oh, how are they?" asked Mrs. Wright with

+interest.</p>

+

+<p>"They seemed to be all right. I hadn't seen

+'em for years."</p>

+

+<p>Mrs. Wright remembered Eliza's criticism of

+Mrs. Fabian on the occasion of the call she

+made upon her in New York.</p>

+

+<p>"Just turn your head," she said, "and you

+can see right from where you are sitting the fine<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_189" id="Page_189">[189]</a></span>

+cottage Mr. Fabian built here five years ago in

+place of the old one his wife owned."</p>

+

+<p>Eliza turned and looked out the window. Far

+across the field and an intervening wall she

+could see a house built of boulders, low and

+broad, and obtained glimpses of its wide verandas.</p>

+

+<p>"It's a charming place," went on Mrs.

+Wright, "and they have a delightful small

+yacht. We became acquainted with them during

+the last fortnight of Violet's stay in the

+summer and she had a few fine sails with them."</p>

+

+<p>Here the hostess rose and brought Eliza a cup

+of fragrant tea.</p>

+

+<p>The guest started. "The idea of your waitin'

+on me, Mrs. Wright," she said humbly.</p>

+

+<p>"Oh, making tea is fun, Eliza; and I want

+you to drink that before I take you to your

+room. This isn't any steam-heated apartment,

+as you remember."</p>

+

+<p>As she spoke, Mrs. Wright took a cup of tea

+to her husband, who was sitting on the couch,

+occasionally lifting the valance and peering

+beneath, apparently vastly entertained by the

+feline explosions with which Pluto, his sharp

+teeth bared, spat at the intrusion.</p>

+

+<p>"You won't put your hand under, will you,<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_190" id="Page_190">[190]</a></span>

+Mr. Wright?" asked Eliza anxiously. "Pluto's

+so quick you'd think 'twas lightnin' struck you.

+I'm ashamed of him with this good fire; but he

+had an awful time with boys once and that's

+where his tail went, and I don't feel to blame

+him so much as if he hadn't ever suffered any.

+He's scarcely seen any men except Mr. Sidney.

+He was clever to him always, but I don't know

+as Pluto'll forgive him now for shuttin' him up

+in the basket. Oh!" Eliza heaved a sigh of relief,

+"I'm so glad we've got here."</p>

+

+<p>"I've put an oil-stove in your room, Eliza,"

+said Mrs. Wright, as all three sat sipping their

+tea.</p>

+

+<p>"That's real nice," returned Eliza. "Mr.

+Sidney's got an oil-stove. I do hope he won't

+smoke up everything. I tried to scare him,&mdash;told

+him he'd ruin his pictures."</p>

+

+<p>"We shall watch to see him make the success

+Mrs. Ballard expected," said Mrs. Wright

+kindly, seeing that Eliza's heart was much with

+her dear one's heir.</p>

+

+<p>"He couldn't make anything but a success,"

+responded Eliza.</p>

+

+<p>Presently her trunk arrived and was carried

+into the bedroom which Mrs. Wright had arranged

+for her. It was on the ground floor. All<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_191" id="Page_191">[191]</a></span>

+the second story of the house was to be left

+unused in the cold weather.</p>

+

+<p>In the evening Captain James came back a

+third time to play checkers with Mr. Wright.

+It seemed to be a daily custom; but soon after

+the supper dishes were washed, Mrs. Wright

+insisted on her tired guest getting into bed for a

+long night's rest.</p>

+

+<p>Pluto had leaped to the shed and thence

+out into the black darkness of the cloud-laden

+night.</p>

+

+<p>Eliza went to the door to call him, but her

+most ingratiating invitations were ignored.</p>

+

+<p>"Oh, go to bed, Eliza," said Captain James,

+who had just opened the checker-board.

+"What ye 'fraid of? 'Fraid he'll jump off the

+bank? He ain't fond enough o' the water, I'll

+bet. Go to bed and don't worry. Haven't ye

+ever heard the song, 'The cat came back, he

+couldn't stay away'?"</p>

+

+<p>"You know, James," said Eliza, ashamed of

+her anxiety, but nevertheless too much affected

+by it to seek her pillow while her pet was homeless,

+"you know it's places, not people, with a

+cat, selfish critters."</p>

+

+<p>"Well," responded the captain, "he can't get

+back to New York 'cause the walkin' 's so<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_192" id="Page_192">[192]</a></span>

+poor." As he spoke, a dark shadow passed into

+the light that streamed from the window.</p>

+

+<p>With the quickest movement of her life, Eliza

+jumped off the doorstep and pounced upon it.

+It was Pluto, and she held him under her arm

+with a vice-like grip as she reëntered the house.</p>

+

+<p>"Good-night, all," she said, rather shamefaced.</p>

+

+<p>"Good-night, Eliza," said Mrs. Wright, who

+had taken up a book. "Your lamp is lighted."</p>

+

+<p>When Eliza had reached her room, she closed

+the door and dropped the cat, who leaped

+toward it, and finding exit hopeless, looked up

+at her, night-fires gleaming in his eyes.</p>

+

+<p>"See here, Pluto," said Eliza severely, "will

+you stop actin' so crazy? I tell you we're home;

+<em>home</em>. If ever two folks ought to be filled to the

+brim with gratitude it's you and me. I'll give

+you a chance to look around here in daylight

+and get your bearin's, and then, if you don't

+behave as if you had some sense, I'll put you in

+the chicken-house and you shall live there. Do

+you hear that?"</p>

+

+<p>She stooped to smooth the jetty fur to offset

+in a measure her severity; but Pluto glided

+from beneath her hand and took refuge beneath

+the bed.</p>

+

+<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_193" id="Page_193">[193]</a></span></p>

+

+<p>"Well, of all the fools!" she soliloquized.

+Nevertheless she knew what the temperature of

+the room would be by the small hours, and,

+taking an old knitted grey shawl from her

+trunk, she threw it under the bed.</p>

+

+<hr class="chap" />

+

+<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_194" id="Page_194">[194]</a></span></p>

+

+

+

+

+<div class="chapter">

+<h2>CHAPTER XI</h2>

+</div>

+

+<p class="ph3">MRS. FABIAN'S GIFTS</p>

+

+

+<p>Mrs. Fabian had taken her daughter to the

+train before she appeared to Pat's amazed eyes

+at the stable door. Her chagrin at discovering

+the removal of the barrel did not prevent her

+recognition of the discomforts of Phil's north-lighted

+chamber. Her nostrils dilated as she

+looked about her at the rumpled pile of blankets

+where the artist had evidently slept; the unlighted

+stove, and the open windows through

+which came an eager and a nipping air.</p>

+

+<p>"Poor boy! Poor boy!" she said to herself

+repeatedly.</p>

+

+<p>She had had an unpleasant fifteen minutes

+with Kathleen in the motor, for the girl had

+asked her directly if she intended to kidnap the

+missent barrel, and she had replied in an emphatic

+affirmative.</p>

+

+<p>"Would you rather have those old dishes

+than Mr. Sidney's respect?" Kathleen asked

+her.</p>

+

+<p>Mrs. Fabian looked her surprise. "It sounds<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_195" id="Page_195">[195]</a></span>

+very absurd to hear you call Phil 'Mr. Sidney,'"

+she said, fencing. "Don't you remember your

+Aunt Mary Sidney?"</p>

+

+<p>"Indeed, I do."</p>

+

+<p>Mrs. Fabian's mind was of the sort which

+associates social status indissolubly with

+money. She had always felt that in winning a

+millionaire for a husband, she had married

+above her; and, shaking off her own humble

+family connection wherever possible, had tried

+to be as nearly all Fabian as circumstances permitted.

+Her step-children had therefore never

+been expected or requested to adopt her relatives

+as their own. She now referred to the one

+memorable visit of Phil's beautiful mother to

+their island home, for Kathleen's persistent

+formality in referring to the artist brought a

+flush to her cheeks.</p>

+

+<p>If Kathleen, the proud, the reserved, the self-contained,

+were to pronounce upon the young

+man unfavorably, she should have nothing to

+say to the contrary, though she would continue

+to be kind to Mary's child in private.</p>

+

+<p>"I was only thinking," she continued, "that

+if you still remember his mother in your

+thoughts as your Aunt Mary, it seems rather

+formal to tack a Mr. upon Philip. You know,<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_196" id="Page_196">[196]</a></span>

+Kathleen," Mrs. Fabian's flush deepened, "I

+did not ask you to go to see him. I wanted

+Edgar to go, for the looks of the thing, since

+Phil is an entire stranger, and when I found he

+never would go by himself, I was thankful that

+you took him. You have been so&mdash;so grouchy

+ever since, that I'm sorry you went; but I don't

+see why you should blame me for it. It was

+your own proposition."</p>

+

+<p>"I know, mother," returned the girl; "and

+if you will promise not to go over there and take

+the tea-set I'll not be grouchy." The dark eyes

+lifted wistfully to Mrs. Fabian's astonished

+countenance.</p>

+

+<p>"What do you mean by my forfeiting Phil's

+respect?" she asked. "Do you mean that he

+wants them so much? Why, they'll be smashed

+or stolen in that rough place. They'll be nothing

+but a nuisance to him."</p>

+

+<p>"They belong to Eliza," pleaded Kathleen.</p>

+

+<p>"They belong to me!" retorted Mrs. Fabian

+explosively. "Philip will see that at once."</p>

+

+<p>Kathleen's lips closed. They had arrived at

+the station, and she said no more; but she

+departed with one consoling thought. Mrs.

+Fabian had misdirected herself and Edgar the

+day before. Perhaps she could not find the<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_197" id="Page_197">[197]</a></span>

+place to-day; but that lady, as soon as the car

+door was closed on her child, spoke through the

+tube to the chauffeur.</p>

+

+<p>"Drive," she said, "to the same place in

+Gramercy Park where you took Miss Kathleen

+yesterday."</p>

+

+<p>Soon she was face to face with Pat, and

+presently standing in Phil's forlorn apartment.

+The pieces of Mrs. Ballard's bedstead were still

+leaning against the wall.</p>

+

+<p>She pictured Kathleen the fastidious, the

+dainty, perching on that pile of blankets; but if

+the girl had despised the poverty-stricken art-student,

+why was she so strenuous and persistent

+as to retaining his respect? Why had she

+left for the studio in the best of spirits, and

+returned distrait, behaving in an absent-minded

+manner ever since.</p>

+

+<p>"Kathleen is a great deal more tenderhearted

+than she appears. I believe she pitied

+Phil so much it made her blue, and she couldn't

+bear to have me take away the only pretty

+things he had. Well, it seems I'm not going

+to!"</p>

+

+<p>Mrs. Fabian even opened the closet door. A

+few suits of clothes hung within, but the rest

+was chaos; and in that chaos no welcome curves<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_198" id="Page_198">[198]</a></span>

+of a barrel were to be found. Her alert eyes

+made a hasty but comprehensive search of the

+room.</p>

+

+<p>"The boy drank his coffee out of that mug!"

+she decided. "He is not in a mountain camp

+and he shall not live as if he were. He shall see

+that he is not dependent on Eliza Brewster for

+the decencies of life!"</p>

+

+<p>Then followed her descent upon Pat, her

+catechism, and her magnificent departure.</p>

+

+<p>Scarcely had Phil received the Irishman's

+account of the visit and gone up to his room

+that afternoon, when he heard a knocking on

+the stable door; and when Pat had opened it, a

+violent expletive from somebody.</p>

+

+<p>Phil stood still to listen. Surely he could not

+be connected with the present invasion, whatever

+it might be. His circle of acquaintance in

+Gotham had come, done its best and its worst,

+and departed for all time.</p>

+

+<p>"Misther Sidney, sor," yelled Pat from the

+foot of the stairs. "'T is the barr'l come back.

+Sure, and is it worth while totin' it up, whin

+it can't be at rest!"</p>

+

+<p>"It isn't for me," called Phil, coming out in

+his little hallway. "I refuse to live in such a

+whirl of excitement."</p>

+

+<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_199" id="Page_199">[199]</a></span></p>

+

+<p>"It is fer you, else all the money spint on

+me eddication is gone fer nothin'&mdash;and faith

+there's more to follow," added Pat, in a tone

+of such sudden surprise that Phil ran downstairs

+faster than he had gone up. A couch was

+approaching the stable door. This was followed

+by several large packages, upon one of which

+was tied a letter, and at last a Morris chair

+entered upon the scene.</p>

+

+<p>"Ye're the very soul of extravagance," said

+Pat severely, when the delivery man had departed.

+"If ye're a poor art-shtudent, say so;

+but if ye're a prince in disguise, out with it!"</p>

+

+<p>"This is a surprise party if I ever had one,"

+declared Phil slowly, staring around at the

+objects.</p>

+

+<p>"Poor art-shtudents don't buy iligant couches

+with box springs long enough fer the lord

+mayor!" said Pat, unconvinced. "What brings

+ye to a stable whin ye've the Queen o' Sheby

+fer an aunt?"</p>

+

+<p>At the word a light illumined the situation.</p>

+

+<p>"For a fact, Pat! You did tell me my aunt

+was here!" And in a flash Phil's mind reverted

+to Kathleen with a sensation of gratitude. In

+some way she had prevented the disagreeable

+details of yesterday from angering her mother.</p>

+

+<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_200" id="Page_200">[200]</a></span></p>

+

+<p>"Give me a hand up, Pat," he said. "I'll

+guarantee this barrel will stay where it's put."</p>

+

+<p>When they had all the articles upstairs, Phil

+found himself possessed of a springy bed with

+ample clothing for the night, and ample couch

+cushions for day; well-selected dishes, alcohol

+lamp and copper kettle, and a table on which to

+stand them, a reading-lamp, and the easy-chair.</p>

+

+<p>"What do you think of it?" he said, looking

+about half-dazed.</p>

+

+<p>"I think ye're in the wrong box, bein' in a

+stable," answered Pat, scratching his head in

+perplexity.</p>

+

+<p>"No, no," Phil laughed; "a box stall for me.

+Wait till you see me scattering paint around

+here."</p>

+

+<p>"Faith, I have me doubts o' you," said Pat.</p>

+

+<p>His Irish dislike of voicing the unpleasant

+withheld him from expressing his thought; but

+as he regarded Phil now, standing coatless, and

+with tossed hair, looking about his transformed

+apartment, he decided that he was viewing the

+black sheep of a wealthy family, the masculine

+members of which had left him to his own poverty-stricken

+devices, while his softer-hearted

+female relatives were surreptitiously ameliorating

+his hard lot. It was difficult to see Phil in<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_201" id="Page_201">[201]</a></span>

+the rôle of black sheep, but Pat was sophisticated

+and knew that appearances were deceitful.</p>

+

+<p>"Pat," said the perplexing tenant suddenly,

+"I begin to believe I was born with a silver

+spoon in my mouth. I'm the happiest fellow

+in the world."</p>

+

+<p>"Sure a man doesn't say that till his wedding-day,"

+objected Pat.</p>

+

+<p>Phil smiled confidently. "I told you I had

+the girl; and she's the faithfullest of the faithful."</p>

+

+<p>"You bet she is," returned the Irishman devoutly.

+"Whativer you've done, the gurr'l gets

+her hands on you once'll niver let go."</p>

+

+<p>"Whatever I've done? What do you think

+I've done?" laughed Phil. "Here's my mother.

+Want to see her?" And he sorted several leaves

+from the pile of sketches and laid them out on

+the new table.</p>

+

+<p>"It's swate she is!" said the Irishman, gazing

+with interest; and, perceiving the expression in

+the artist's eyes as he looked upon the pictures,

+he spoke suspiciously: "She ain't the gurr'l

+ye're talkin' of?"</p>

+

+<p>"No, no," returned Phil, "but she entirely

+approves of the match."</p>

+

+<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_202" id="Page_202">[202]</a></span></p>

+

+<p>"That helps, ye know," said Pat benevolently.

+"'Tis well to get airly settled in life,

+thin if"&mdash;he made a lenient gesture&mdash;"if

+ye've played too many cards or made any

+other mistakes, ye soon lave thim behind ye and

+there's little time wasted."</p>

+

+<p>That evening Phil called up the Fabian house,

+and, finding that Mrs. Fabian was to be at

+home, soon presented himself in that lady's

+boudoir.</p>

+

+<p>Mrs. Fabian, in a becoming négligée, sat

+before an open fire; a soft lamp at her elbow,

+and a French novel in her hand.</p>

+

+<p>"You know the naughty things in a French

+story are so stimulating, Phil," she explained,

+when he commented on her book. "You

+wouldn't think of reading the same things in

+English; but you get so curious to know what

+it's all about, that you work, and study, and I

+find it very helpful. Excuse my not rising to

+greet you. I've had an exhausting day; so as

+Edgar wasn't coming home, and Mr. Fabian

+had to attend a banquet, I had my dinner

+brought to me here."</p>

+

+<p>"I'm sure it is I who have exhausted you,"

+said Phil, drawing his chair close to the luxurious

+downy nest which was embracing her<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_203" id="Page_203">[203]</a></span>

+plump person. "I don't know what to say to

+you, Aunt Isabel," he added gratefully, regarding

+her as she half-reclined, a living example of

+what can be accomplished by beauty-doctor

+and accomplished maid.</p>

+

+<p>She placed her white hand, with its perfect

+rosy tips, for an instant on his, then she patted

+the folds of her violet gown.</p>

+

+<p>"Now, don't say a word, my dear," she returned,

+complacency lighting her countenance.

+Her husband had little time for compliments,

+Edgar was uniformly ungrateful, and Phil was

+very handsome. She remembered how charming

+had seemed to her the relation between him

+and his mother; and she felt a longing to evoke

+something like that affection for herself.</p>

+

+<p>"But, indeed, I shall say a great deal," he

+declared. "You've turned my camp over there

+into the lap of luxury. I go on accepting things,

+everybody seems in a conspiracy to prevent my

+having any hardships, so I suspect I'm going to

+catch them at the school."</p>

+

+<p>"Aren't the teachers agreeable?"</p>

+

+<p>"Well, I've been there only a few days, but I

+see already that doctors disagree there as they

+do elsewhere. One comes and tells you you're

+all right, and the next declares you're all<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_204" id="Page_204">[204]</a></span>

+wrong; but I'm after the fundamental training

+I've never had, and I'm going to get it if I

+make their lives a burden to them."</p>

+

+<p>"I don't pretend to know anything about

+art, Phil," said the hostess complacently, "and

+I'm not going to add that I know what I like,

+either, so you needn't smile at the fire; but

+from those sketches of yours that I saw out at

+the mine I could see that you were bound to

+accomplish something if you had free rein.

+Kathleen was delighted with them."</p>

+

+<p>"I was much pleased to meet Miss Fabian,"

+said Phil.</p>

+

+<p>"Dear me, why should you children be so

+formal!" exclaimed his hostess. "'Miss Fabian'!

+'Mr. Sidney'! It's ridiculous when you

+consider your mother and me&mdash;more like

+sisters than cousins as we are."</p>

+

+<p>Philip bit his lip. The description struck him

+as diverting, considering the lapse of years

+during which his mother had heard nothing

+from this cousin.</p>

+

+<p>"I shall be very glad if Miss Fabian will let

+me know her better," he said.</p>

+

+<p>"It's a very, very strange thing, Phil," went

+on Mrs. Fabian, shaking her waved head and

+gazing at the fire, "to be a step-mother. I<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_205" id="Page_205">[205]</a></span>

+should have always said that environment was

+more powerful than heredity; but I've had

+those children almost from babyhood,"&mdash;the

+speaker challenged Phil with impressive eyes,&mdash;"and

+yet I look at them, yes, I assure you, I

+look at them as a hen might look at the ducks

+she had hatched."</p>

+

+<p>Phil saw that he was intended to respond, so

+he changed his position and made a soft, inarticulate

+exclamation.</p>

+

+<p>"Those children," declared Mrs. Fabian,

+"would probably both claim that they understood

+me from <em>a</em> to <em>z</em>; but I am frank enough to

+state that I understand neither of them. Now,

+I'm going to tell you, Phil, that I am hanging

+great hopes upon your influence over Edgar."</p>

+

+<p>"My dear Aunt Isabel!" ejaculated the visitor.

+Phil's gratitude to this relative did not

+blind him to her characteristics, or as to how

+her idle and fashionable life had reflected in the

+bringing-up or coming-up of her son.</p>

+

+<p>"Now, don't say no, Phil," she went on. "I

+don't expect that you found any kindred spirit

+in Edgar, but I'm going to be frank, his father

+is so out of patience with him that he is severe,

+and I am hoping that the sight of your economy

+will show Edgar that something beside extrava<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_206" id="Page_206">[206]</a></span>gance

+can bring happiness; and the sight of

+your industry will rebuke his idle tastes."</p>

+

+<p>"I can't conceive of myself as an example to

+the young," laughed Phil uncomfortably. "I

+half suspected yesterday that you had been

+holding me up before Edgar. There aren't any

+comparisons to be made between a gilded youth

+and a painter, and I assure you it is no lofty

+principle that makes me care little where I live

+and eat. It is only a desire to do a certain thing,

+so intense that it dwarfs every other need."</p>

+

+<p>"He has overpowering desires, too," said

+Mrs. Fabian bitterly; "but it is to go yachting

+and play polo and drink champagne." She

+sighed. "I suppose I haven't known how to be

+a good mother," she added with dejection, "but

+there,"&mdash;her voice grew suddenly argumentative,&mdash;"look

+at Kathleen! I've brought them

+up alike, but she is the other extreme. She has

+no taste for pleasure. She's a natural student

+and bookworm; and what I am to do with her

+when she graduates, Heaven only knows. I

+shall insist upon her coming out," added Mrs.

+Fabian virtuously. "She must go through the

+same form as the other girls in her set, and it

+may be that a reaction will set in and she will

+find a normal satisfaction in it. It will break my<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_207" id="Page_207">[207]</a></span>

+heart if she drops out and becomes one of these

+poky oddities. Well,"&mdash;another sigh,&mdash;"I

+mustn't borrow trouble. Were you surprised

+at my early morning call at your room, Phil? I

+hoped I should be early enough to catch you."</p>

+

+<p>"I was surprised; but it was a lucky visit for

+me, even though I was not there."</p>

+

+<p>"I'm glad you're pleased with those little

+comforts; but I shall be frank,&mdash;it was to try

+to get my grandmother's silver that I went. If

+you had known you were working against me,

+Phil, you wouldn't have helped that crazy

+Eliza to carry the things away."</p>

+

+<p>"They belong to her, she tells me," said Phil

+simply. "Aunt Mary seemed to think you were

+living in an embarrassment of riches anyway."</p>

+

+<p>"Then you should have shipped them to your

+mother. It's quite indecent that a servant

+should have them. It reflects upon your mother

+and me. Can't you see that, Phil?"</p>

+

+<p>He stirred his broad shoulders uncomfortably.</p>

+

+<p>"I'm glad you aren't going to blame me for

+it anyway," he returned, looking at his hostess

+with a frank smile. "After all they're only

+<em>things</em>, you know. The important part is how

+Aunt Mary felt about them, isn't it? You<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_208" id="Page_208">[208]</a></span>

+know probably what sort of thoughts she had

+about you in her last days."</p>

+

+<p>Mrs. Fabian looked at him with quick

+suspicion as he rose to go. Was he rebuking

+her in spite of his smile?</p>

+

+<p>"Some people marry into a family," she

+said after the pause. "Some marry out of one.

+I did both. I married a man with children, and

+a big establishment. I simply married out of

+my family. I didn't have time to attend to

+both, and any right-minded person can see

+where my duty lay!"</p>

+

+<p>The virtuousness in the speaker's face and

+voice were so enveloping that they created an

+atmosphere in which Phil was able to make his

+adieux without further embarrassment.</p>

+

+<hr class="chap" />

+

+<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_209" id="Page_209">[209]</a></span></p>

+

+

+

+

+<div class="chapter">

+<h2>CHAPTER XII</h2>

+</div>

+

+<p class="ph3">MRS. FABIAN'S DINNER LIST</p>

+

+

+<p>For the next two months, Phil, to his entire

+satisfaction, had practically no social life. One

+or two of his fellow students found their way to

+the stable studio, envying him loudly when

+they viewed it, but for the most part he succeeded

+in keeping his castle to himself. Aunt

+Mary's easel found a good situation beneath the

+north light, and the evenings were spent in reading

+works calculated to help him on his way.</p>

+

+<p>Occasionally the satisfactoriness of his lamp or

+his easy-chair would cause him to start in a panic

+and begin to figure how long a time had elapsed

+since he had called on his benefactress; usually

+discovering that it was high time to go again.</p>

+

+<p>Frequently he declined invitations from Mrs.

+Fabian to dine, giving the excuse of incessant

+occupation. Once in a while, on the occasion of

+these duty calls, he saw Edgar, and the latter

+prided himself on the subtle implication of

+injury which he infused into the perfunctory

+courtesy of a host.</p>

+

+<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_210" id="Page_210">[210]</a></span></p>

+

+<p>Phil saw it, and, while he was amused, he

+gave Edgar some credit for not having carried

+out the threat to tell his mother how Phil had

+guarded her dignity with Eliza.</p>

+

+<p>"So there are some things too petty for him,

+after all," thought Phil carelessly; but he suspected

+and was grateful for Kathleen's intervention.</p>

+

+<p>When Edgar was not in evidence, Phil rather

+enjoyed an evening with his aunt. It gave him

+an opportunity to talk about his mother, and

+Mrs. Fabian could tell him events of their girlhood.

+She soon found that no occurrence in

+which Mary Sidney had figured was too trifling

+to bring the light of close attention into the

+young fellow's eyes.</p>

+

+<p>"Dear me," she said one night when they

+were alone together, and she had been entertaining

+him with reminiscence, "I wonder

+how your mother made you love her

+so."</p>

+

+<p>There was a sincere wistfulness in her tone

+that touched Phil. He laughed with some embarrassment,

+throwing a glance around the too-gorgeous

+room.</p>

+

+<p>"I don't believe she went for to do it," he

+said. "I contracted the habit early."</p>

+

+<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_211" id="Page_211">[211]</a></span></p>

+

+<p>"But Edgar was only five years old when I

+married his father," said Mrs. Fabian plaintively.</p>

+

+<p>"We didn't have any money," said Phil.

+"Perhaps that helped. Mother and I were pals,

+you see; had to be. She could afford only one

+maid."</p>

+

+<p>"It's true I was very, very busy," admitted

+Mrs. Fabian thoughtfully, with the return of

+her ever-ready tone of virtue. "I had the best

+nurses and governesses. They couldn't speak a

+word of English,&mdash;and I didn't neglect the

+children. I made it a point to hear them say

+their prayers every night that I wasn't going

+out."</p>

+

+<p>Phil's clasped finger tips were pressed to his

+lips and he did not reply to this. He admired

+Mrs. Fabian's exquisite costumes, and now he

+dropped his twinkling eyes to the hem of her

+gossamer gown.</p>

+

+<p>"How often do you write to your mother?"

+pursued Mrs. Fabian.</p>

+

+<p>"I'd be ashamed to tell you," he answered.</p>

+

+<p>She sighed. "It's beautiful," she declared;

+again wistful. "I suppose she has told you

+about our dear old dull island."</p>

+

+<p>"Brewster's Island? I don't remember her<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_212" id="Page_212">[212]</a></span>

+talking of it; but Eliza has spoken of my mother

+having been there."</p>

+

+<p>At the mention of her humble enemy Mrs.

+Fabian's nostrils dilated. "Eliza!" she repeated

+indignantly. "Every time I think of the

+impudence of that woman&mdash;" she paused, at a

+loss for words.</p>

+

+<p>"I suppose the island was named for Eliza's

+family," hazarded Phil.</p>

+

+<p>"I suppose so. You may call nearly every

+islander 'Brewster,' and seldom go wrong." Mrs.

+Fabian continued: "Edgar made a joke of the

+barrel affair, but Kathleen put on tragedy airs

+at the idea of my trying to get my own. Kathleen

+knows so much more than her mother, you

+understand. She knows so much more about

+everything than she will ten years from now.

+It's rather painful. Well, of course you didn't

+realize what you were doing in helping Eliza

+spirit the things away. I'm glad the creature

+has gone, for your sake. She would have been a

+dreadful bore to you as a part of Aunt Mary's

+legacy."</p>

+

+<p>"I feel very kindly toward Eliza," said Phil.

+Aunt Mary's letter was against his heart where

+it always lay. "She did too much for Aunt

+Mary for me ever to forget it."</p>

+

+<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_213" id="Page_213">[213]</a></span></p>

+

+<p>"But you didn't know Aunt Mary."</p>

+

+<p>"Not until she had gone. Then she revealed

+herself to me in a letter. I seem to have seen

+her at her patient work."</p>

+

+<p>"Yes, and Eliza has probably told you that

+I neglected her." Mrs. Fabian colored and

+looked at Phil defensively.</p>

+

+<p>"Yes," he answered simply.</p>

+

+<p>"It's a wonder she didn't make you hate

+me. I know what a virago the creature can

+be."</p>

+

+<p>"I like," said Phil,&mdash;"I like that saying,

+'Yesterday is as dead as Egypt.' I like to feel

+that the only enemy a man can have is himself."</p>

+

+<p>"I'm glad you don't hate me, Phil," returned

+Mrs. Fabian, again plaintive. "I have enough

+troubles. 'Qui s'excuse, s'accuse,' and I shall

+not try to explain to you why I saw so little of

+Aunt Mary; but it is beyond belief that a common

+creature like Eliza should dare to sit in

+judgment on a person in my position."</p>

+

+<p>"Eliza is not a common creature," said Phil

+quietly.</p>

+

+<p>"I see. Her devotion is all you think of. We

+won't talk of her, then.&mdash;What are you going

+to do in the summer, Phil?"</p>

+

+<p>"Work!" he answered, smiling.</p>

+

+<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_214" id="Page_214">[214]</a></span></p>

+

+<p>"Not under that stable roof. I won't permit

+it."</p>

+

+<p>"Then I'll take the road. There's nothing I

+know better than how to be a tramp."</p>

+

+<p>At this juncture Mr. Fabian came in from his

+library. He was a smooth-shaven man, comfortably

+stout; and the stern lines on his forehead

+and about his mouth softened at sight of

+Phil, who rose to greet him.</p>

+

+<p>"What of the mine?" asked the newcomer,

+seating himself.</p>

+

+<p>"Oh, father's digging away," returned Phil.

+"He probably tells you more than he does me."</p>

+

+<p>Mr. Fabian drew his brows together.</p>

+

+<p>"Not sick of the picture business yet?" he

+asked, regarding the young man curiously.</p>

+

+<p>Phil shook his head and laughed. He knew Mr.

+Fabian's disapproval of his chosen profession.</p>

+

+<p>"I was just about telling Phil," said Mrs.

+Fabian, "that he must visit us at the island

+next summer."</p>

+

+<p>Mr. Fabian nodded cordially. "Care for

+sailing?" he asked.</p>

+

+<p>"I never had a chance to know. Horses and

+tramping and camping have given me all my

+outings so far."</p>

+

+<p>"Then you must come. We'll have a cruise.<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_215" id="Page_215">[215]</a></span>

+I've only a small yacht, for I prefer to run it

+myself with a few friends."</p>

+

+<p>"That sounds attractive, but I shan't

+indulge, I think."</p>

+

+<p>"Why, what sort of a painter is it who

+doesn't do marines?" asked Mrs. Fabian.</p>

+

+<p>"Yes, I know," returned Phil, smiling. "I'll

+do them at Coney Island."</p>

+

+<p>When he had taken his departure Mrs.

+Fabian turned to her husband.</p>

+

+<p>"Isn't it a shame," she said, "for a boy like

+that not to have any money?"</p>

+

+<p>"No," responded her husband. "It's in his

+favor. The shame is that a fine husky chap like

+that should give himself over to paint-pots. I'd

+make a position for him in the office if he'd

+come. I wish I had a son like that."</p>

+

+<p>When her husband made this sort of reference,

+Mrs. Fabian was glad that she was not

+Edgar's own mother; yet since she had known

+Phil she had never entirely escaped a consciousness

+that Mary Sidney would have bent the

+twig in Edgar's childhood in a manner to have

+produced a different inclination in the tree.</p>

+

+<p>As Christmas approached, Mrs. Fabian detained

+her son one evening as he was about to

+leave the house.</p>

+

+<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_216" id="Page_216">[216]</a></span></p>

+

+<p>"Edgar, you are always in such a hurry," she

+complained. "I never can catch you for a word

+except at table when the servants are about.

+Sit down for five minutes."</p>

+

+<p>The youth paused reluctantly. "I must keep

+my engagements," he said, shrugging his

+shoulders, "and since the Administration has

+shut down on my using the car at night, I have

+to live by my wits; in other words, sponge on

+other people's motors as much as possible."</p>

+

+<p>"You know, dear," said Mrs. Fabian, "your

+father didn't do that until we found, evening

+after evening, that we could never have the

+car ourselves. Somehow or other, Edgar, you

+manage very badly. You always rub your father

+the wrong way."</p>

+

+<p>Edgar's chest in his dress shirt rose very

+high. "I'm not the cringing, begging sort," he

+returned. "Unless a thing is offered me freely

+I don't care for it."</p>

+

+<p>In the last month he had affected a short,

+pointed mustache, and this he now twisted with

+a haughty air.</p>

+

+<p>Mrs. Fabian's sense of humor was latent, but

+she smiled now. "Sit down a minute, dear,"

+she said. "It won't detain you, for you may

+use the car to-night. Your father has just<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_217" id="Page_217">[217]</a></span>

+'phoned that he is obliged to attend a sudden

+meeting of directors, so I have to give up the

+opera&mdash;unless you will go with me?"</p>

+

+<p>Edgar regarded his mother's charming toilet

+appraisingly. "I don't mind," he said graciously,

+"if you will ask Mrs. Larrabee. I was

+going there to call to-night."</p>

+

+<p>Mrs. Fabian's brow clouded. "She is so conspicuous,"

+she said persuasively; "I wish you

+didn't go there, Edgar. Why are all the men

+daft about her when there are so many sweet

+young girls so much better worth their attention?"</p>

+

+<p>"Shall I see if she is disengaged?" asked

+Edgar alertly. "If she cares to go I can come

+back and talk with you."</p>

+

+<p>"Oh, yes," Mrs. Fabian sighed resignedly;

+and Edgar disappeared, presently returning,

+a self-satisfied smile curving the little mustache.</p>

+

+<p>"She was gracious, evidently," remarked

+Mrs. Fabian.</p>

+

+<p>"Says she was saving this evening for me

+anyway, and will be delighted," said Edgar,

+seating himself. "She says she is glad it is a

+Caruso night, for she can prove to me that I

+ought to be on his side of the footlights."</p>

+

+<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_218" id="Page_218">[218]</a></span></p>

+

+<p>"That's the way she does it, is it?" returned

+Mrs. Fabian.</p>

+

+<p>"Oh, she means it," declared Edgar quickly.

+"She's the most sincere creature alive. Everybody

+knows that."</p>

+

+<p>"Where is Mr. Larrabee? I've never seen

+him yet. Does anybody see him?"</p>

+

+<p>"His clerks, I fancy," returned Edgar, with

+his careless, gleeful smile.</p>

+

+<p>"It's really a pity the woman's so well connected,"

+said Mrs. Fabian. "She is insolently

+daring. Did you tell her you were taking me?"</p>

+

+<p>"I told her you were asking her to be so good

+as to accept an impromptu invitation; that you

+had but just found that you could go, yourself."</p>

+

+<p>Mrs. Fabian sighed again. "Well, Edgar,

+then I have earned a few minutes of your time.

+I'm going to give a dinner for you and Kathleen

+while she is at home for the holidays. I thought

+of Christmas night, with a little informal dance

+afterward; and I want you to help me decide on

+the list."</p>

+

+<p>"Mrs. Larrabee?" suggested Edgar, twisting

+his mustache complacently.</p>

+

+<p>"Certainly not," returned his mother, with

+energy. "This is to be just for your and Kath<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_219" id="Page_219">[219]</a></span>leen's

+young friends&mdash;a simple Christmas

+merry-making."</p>

+

+<p>"Couldn't you let me off?" asked Edgar,

+with his most blasé, man-of-the-world air.</p>

+

+<p>"Don't be absurd, Edgar Fabian. Have you

+no interest in helping to make your sister's

+holidays pleasant?"</p>

+

+<p>"My dear mother," protested the young

+man, "in order to make Kath's holidays

+pleasant, all you need to do is to give her a pair

+of blue spectacles for a Christmas gift, and invite

+a few Columbia professors to engage her in

+light conversation. If I should send her roses,

+she would only analyze them and reel off the

+learned names of their innards."</p>

+

+<p>"Very well; I am giving you an opportunity

+to suggest some names if you care to. Of course

+I shall ask Philip Sidney."</p>

+

+<p>Edgar shrugged again. "Do you suppose he

+has any evening clothes?"</p>

+

+<p>"And Kathleen suggested Violet Manning,"

+went on Mrs. Fabian. "Do you remember

+Mrs. Wright's niece? Her life must be a dull

+one.</p>

+

+<p>"So it is to be a dinner party of derelicts,"

+said Edgar; "a charity affair."</p>

+

+<p>"Kathleen is always thoughtful," said Mrs.<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_220" id="Page_220">[220]</a></span>

+Fabian reproachfully. "As it is to be on

+Christmas Day I don't know that trying to

+give pleasure to some people who don't have

+much usually would be so far out of the way.

+I'm not sure about Miss Manning myself.

+Kathleen has suggested once or twice that, as

+we saw quite a little of her at the island, it

+might be well to show her some courtesy here;

+but, as I say, I'm not quite sure. What I am

+sure of is that I will not allow you to speak of

+Philip Sidney slightingly in my presence."</p>

+

+<p>Edgar looked up in some surprise.</p>

+

+<p>"A derelict, indeed," she went on. "I wish I

+might ever hope to see you bring the look into

+your father's eyes that they hold when he sees

+Phil."</p>

+

+<p>"You choose a fine way to make me like

+him!" answered the youth; but beneath his

+carelessness was a twinge which proved that the

+words went home. "I remember Miss Manning

+now. She sailed with us a few times."</p>

+

+<p>"Yes, and she lives here with some girl students

+in a bachelor-maid way, and teaches&mdash;"</p>

+

+<p>"I remember the whole thing!" interrupted

+Edgar. "She dances."</p>

+

+<p>"What! The stage?" asked Mrs. Fabian.</p>

+

+<p>"No; some sort of school business; more on<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_221" id="Page_221">[221]</a></span>

+the gymnastic order. Of course, I remember

+her. She did a jig once on the boat."</p>

+

+<p>"Oh, I don't think we'd better ask her,"

+exclaimed Mrs. Fabian hastily.</p>

+

+<p>"Yes, put her down," said Edgar. "If we're

+going into the charity business, I greatly prefer

+worthy girls who can jig; and for the rest, you

+and Kath fix it up. Christmas is a sort of a lost

+night anyway. I don't mind."</p>

+

+<p>And with this gracious cooperation Mrs.

+Fabian was fain to be content. Although she

+felt somewhat dubious about sending an invitation

+to Violet Manning, she concluded from

+the vivacity in Edgar's countenance, as memory

+awakened, that the purchase of his interest

+was worth the risk.</p>

+

+<p>Mrs. Fabian did not care for sailing, and she

+had but a vague memory of an inoffensive girl

+who arrived at the island as Mrs. Wright's

+niece. She hoped Miss Manning's propensity

+for jigging would not be the cause of any shock

+to the carefully nurtured buds who were

+Kathleen's friends.</p>

+

+<hr class="chap" />

+

+<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_222" id="Page_222">[222]</a></span></p>

+

+

+

+

+<div class="chapter">

+<h2>CHAPTER XIII</h2>

+</div>

+

+<p class="ph3">CHRISTMAS</p>

+

+

+<p>It was shortly after this that a miniature riot

+broke out in the tiny apartment where Violet

+Manning and her two friends made a home; and

+it was on the subject of Christmas, too.</p>

+

+<p>The year before, Violet had spent the holidays

+with Mrs. Wright in Boston; but this year

+the loving letter which she now held in her

+hand invited her cordially not to come to the

+island.</p>

+

+<p>"I want to see my little girl," wrote Mrs.

+Wright, "but I would rather risk the sort of

+days you will spend among the many pupils

+who are sure to ask you than to let you take the

+expensive journey to the island, so bleak and

+cold as it is, and with nothing to repay you at

+this end but a hug from Aunt Amy."</p>

+

+<p>Violet read this aloud, and her two friends

+listened attentively.</p>

+

+<p>"I told you," said Roxana, the teacher and

+the eldest, "that Mrs. Wright wouldn't let you

+come. I shall stay here with you." She spoke<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_223" id="Page_223">[223]</a></span>

+firmly. Her face had the lines of one who always

+spoke firmly.</p>

+

+<p>"Then I shall stay, too", said Regina, the

+art-student.</p>

+

+<p>"Then you'll make me miserable, girls!"

+ejaculated Violet energetically, folding her

+letter back in its envelope. She was sitting on

+the table, a favorite perch not to be despised in

+that box of a room where she often said one

+must either be under the table or on it. She

+swung both her slippered feet and her blonde

+head. "Roxy&mdash;Rex&mdash;" she added beseechingly,

+"do you want to ruin my holidays?"</p>

+

+<p>"Rex can go, it's very foolish for her to talk

+about staying, when she can go sleighing in the

+country and study the shadows on the snow,"

+said Roxana.</p>

+

+<p>"What's the use of being a bachelor girl if

+you can't have any independence?" inquired

+Violet, her blue eyes, and full, pretty lips looking

+stormy.</p>

+

+<p>"The baby bachelor can't have everything

+she wants," said Roxana. "You're the baby

+bachelor. Rex may do approximately as she

+pleases, but I am the only one entirely independent.

+Rex still waves her hair. I stopped a

+year ago; just forgot it. That was the rubicon.<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_224" id="Page_224">[224]</a></span>

+Have you heard of the old colored mammy who

+deplored the failure of her dear but mature miss

+to marry? She said to her consolingly: 'Never

+mine, honey, I'se known some old maids who

+settled down right happy and contented when

+they stopped strugglin'.' I knew when I forgot

+to wave my hair that I'd stopped 'strugglin'."

+Roxana rocked gently. It was the only safe

+way to rock in that apartment. "So when that

+time comes, Violet, you will see that you have

+earned independence."</p>

+

+<p>"Oh, Rox, don't be so unkind," pleaded

+Violet. "I've had ever so many invitations for

+Christmas dinner from parents. I knew my

+small admirers slapped them into it, so I refused;

+but I give you my word that if you will

+go ahead with your Christmas plans, I will

+write to one of the most ardent, and Cinderella's

+coach will be nothing compared to the

+limousine that will be sent for me Christmas

+morning, and nothing will be lacking but the

+prince to make the story complete. If you don't

+promise, I'll sulk all the holidays, and I won't

+stay with you either. I'll go skating in the park."</p>

+

+<p>Roxana smiled meditatively.</p>

+

+<p>"Prince!" repeated Regina ecstatically.

+"That reminds me of mine again."</p>

+

+<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_225" id="Page_225">[225]</a></span></p>

+

+<p>"Oh, help!" exclaimed Violet. "I've reminded

+her of Mr. What's-his-name. Rex, if

+you'll promise to go ahead with your holiday

+doings, I'll let you tell us again how He came

+into the class-room first, and how He chose the

+best light, and how His sketches were always

+stunning, and how hard it was for you not to

+sketch Him instead of the model, and I'll let

+you show me the head you did of Him on the sly,

+and you shall tell us again how you plotted for an

+introduction and how you didn't get it, and&mdash;"</p>

+

+<p>"Oh, hush up," said Regina good-naturedly.

+"How about that Mr. Fabian you met at the

+island? How about the careless elegance of his

+manners? How about that wonderful, heartrending,

+angelic voice in which he sang on

+moonlight sails?"</p>

+

+<p>"Dear me!" said Violet, swinging her feet

+and smiling with mischievous eyes, "what a

+wonderful memory you have! I had forgotten

+all about him."</p>

+

+<p>"It shows what a superior being he considers

+himself that he has allowed you to," retorted

+Regina, with curling lip; "after the way he

+behaved at the island&mdash;"</p>

+

+<p>"I never said he behaved," interrupted

+Violet mildly.</p>

+

+<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_226" id="Page_226">[226]</a></span></p>

+

+<p>"Well, he kept on asking you to go, every

+time they sailed, and gave you every reason to

+think he was friendly."</p>

+

+<p>"That's summer friendship," returned Violet,

+but her cheeks took a deeper rose. The

+shoe pinched.</p>

+

+<p>"Well, it's settled," said Roxana. "Rex proceeds

+to the farm and studies snow shadows. I

+stay here, and sleep as late as I wish in the

+morning. Now, be calm, Violet. It isn't as if I

+had a home to go to. It wouldn't be all holiday

+to visit, and be on my best behavior, and not be

+sure which fork to use nor how large tips I

+ought to give the servants, nor&mdash;"</p>

+

+<p>"Nonsense!" interrupted Violet. "It will do

+you all the good in the world to sit down in the

+lap of luxury for a while; to live in large rooms,

+and drive in large motors, and eat large dinners,

+and lounge on large divans, and sleep in large

+beds; and you're going, Rex, you're going."</p>

+

+<p>There was something like tears in the stormy

+blue eyes, and Regina heard with relief the

+postman's whistle.</p>

+

+<p>"Go down and see if we have anything,

+will you, Violet? I'm fixed so comfortably, and

+it's nothing to hop off the table."</p>

+

+<p>Violet obeyed, and the other bachelors saw<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_227" id="Page_227">[227]</a></span>

+her press a very small handkerchief to her eyes

+as she went.</p>

+

+<p>"You'd better go, Rox," said Regina in a low

+tone. "I know just how she feels."</p>

+

+<p>"If it weren't for Christmas day I would;

+but I am sure Violet won't accept a pupil's

+hospitality for more than an hour, just so she

+can tell us she went; and the baby shan't spend

+Christmas eve and Christmas night alone.

+Even if she won't speak to me, I shall stay. It's

+the lesser of two evils. Honestly, I would enjoy

+a lazy time at home here with no papers to

+correct. The trouble is to get her to believe it."</p>

+

+<p>Here Violet returned; her face and bearing so

+laden with dignity that Roxana coughed lest

+she laugh. The baby bachelor handed a postcard

+to Regina, then took a very straight-backed

+chair. To sit on either of her customary

+thrones, the table or the floor, would be too

+much concession to her mutinous companions.

+She opened the letter in her hand, and as she

+read, a curious change altered her countenance.

+The wintry stiffness of her expression began to

+thaw. A springtime warmth appeared in her

+eyes, and, spreading to her lips, relaxed their

+corners. At last she looked up. The sparkle of

+summer seas shone in her glance.</p>

+

+<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_228" id="Page_228">[228]</a></span></p>

+

+<p>"You can go, girls," she said; "it is all right.

+Mrs. Fabian has asked me to dinner on Christmas,

+with a dance afterward and to spend the

+night. Now, then!" She challenged Roxana

+triumphantly.</p>

+

+<p>"How about Christmas eve?" inquired the

+latter inflexibly.</p>

+

+<p>"You tiresome old dear, the Settlement has a

+tree and I'll attend it, and spend the night with

+one of my class who is interested there."</p>

+

+<p>"Then I'll go," agreed Roxana mildly.

+"Fled is the rosy dream of sleeping till noon and

+watching you skate in the afternoons; and I will

+ask Mrs. McCabe across the hall to keep an eye

+on you."</p>

+

+<p>The invitation came as a welcome event to

+Philip Sidney as well. Aunt Isabel had been

+uniformly kind and motherly to him. The

+thought of a solitary Christmas, or one spent in

+a glittering restaurant, made him wince even

+with all the allurements of his easel and his

+books; so at last Mrs. Fabian received a grateful

+reply to a dinner invitation.</p>

+

+<p>The roses that came with his card on Christmas

+morning pleased her also, more than her

+extravagant gifts. While Phil was dressing he

+thought again of Kathleen. He had never seen<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_229" id="Page_229">[229]</a></span>

+her since the Sunday afternoon visit. He felt

+he could put up with Edgar's airs and graces

+through a dinner for the sake of seeing Kathleen

+again.</p>

+

+<p>"I wonder if she'll smoke a cigarette to-night,"

+he thought, while he adjusted the dress

+tie he had bought for the occasion: adjusted it

+very carefully, for the tie was a unique possession.

+If he made a botch of it he could not go

+to the dinner. The girl never came to his mind

+except when her mother spoke of her; but now

+that he was to be her guest he recalled agreeably

+how womanly and sweet had been her

+manner to Eliza on that autumn day before the

+stable had turned into a studio.</p>

+

+<p>It was Kathleen who suggested sending the

+car for Violet. It was not the traditional Christmas

+of dry sparkling snow under a radiant

+moon, but a day of slush and clouds, and Kathleen

+was not of those owners of motors who

+believe that every one else has one, too. Her

+acquaintance with Violet was slight, but she

+knew she was a teacher and a very young one.

+She fancied that dollars were precious with her

+as yet.</p>

+

+<p>So Violet rolled up to the brown-stone house

+on Christmas evening in state, arrayed in her<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_230" id="Page_230">[230]</a></span>

+best and full of anticipation. Mrs. Wright's

+gift to her had been a small gold pendant holding

+a turquoise matrix, and this she wore on a

+slender chain around her throat, where it shone

+between the deep blue of her eyes and the pale

+blue of her gown.</p>

+

+<p>Kathleen's greeting to her had a ring of

+friendliness through its gentle formality. Violet's

+involuntary thought was that she might

+have been less formal, for, although there was

+nothing chilling in her manner, it seemed to

+suggest the difference between the bachelor

+maid doing light housekeeping in a hemmed-in

+apartment and the heiress of this stately

+mansion.</p>

+

+<p>Mrs. Fabian was kindly patronizing, and

+held Violet at her side that she might meet the

+other dinner guests.</p>

+

+<p>Edgar Fabian was one of the last to enter the

+drawing-room. Violet noted that he was not

+alone, but although his companion dwarfed him

+she saw no one but the well-set-up, exquisite

+youth with the shining hair who had been the

+companion of her moonlight sails. Her heart

+quickened and her color deepened.</p>

+

+<p>"I'm behaving exactly like Rex," she

+thought impatiently. Really there had been<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_231" id="Page_231">[231]</a></span>

+no reason why Edgar Fabian should take pains

+to find her in the city or show her any courtesy,

+after the return from the island, but in her heart

+of hearts she had expected he would; and it

+showed no proper pride in this same heart to

+give an undignified bound at the present juncture.

+What was the idiotic thing bounding for

+anyway?</p>

+

+<p>This query she put to it as Edgar approached

+his mother; and now Violet saw that his companion

+was a tall man whose evening clothes

+could not lessen the breadth of his shoulders,

+and whose poetic face was lighted with alert,

+observant eyes.</p>

+

+<p>Mrs. Fabian greeted the stranger warmly,

+and presented him to Violet as her nephew, Mr.

+Sidney; while Edgar's cool eyes swept the girl's

+face for a brief moment without recognition.</p>

+

+<p>"You remember Miss Manning, Edgar,"

+said his mother; and then the sudden gleeful

+smile relieved the youth's face of its superciliousness.</p>

+

+<p>"What a difference feathers make to the bird,

+Miss Manning!" he ejaculated. "Upon my

+word, I think I must have believed you always

+wore a jolly little red sweater and hat.

+Weren't those corking sails we had? Awfully<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_232" id="Page_232">[232]</a></span>

+glad to see you again." And he bore Phil off

+to meet his friends.</p>

+

+<p>"I think, Miss Manning," said Mrs. Fabian

+impressively, "that in meeting my nephew you

+have seen a future celebrity. He is wonderfully

+talented."</p>

+

+<p>"How pleasant," murmured Violet, the idiot

+heart having given one record-breaking bound

+and then retired into its usual self-effacement.</p>

+

+<p>"Yes, he is a painter. Only a student as yet,

+of course. I think he has the sort of originality

+that longs to spread its wings and fly; but he

+holds himself down to foundation work in the

+most level-headed way."</p>

+

+<p>Violet's eyes followed the easy movements of

+the athletic figure.</p>

+

+<p>"Studying art, did you say?"</p>

+

+<p>"Yes."</p>

+

+<p>"I didn't quite get his name?"</p>

+

+<p>"Sidney. Philip Sidney."</p>

+

+<p>Stars began to twinkle in Violet's eyes at her

+sudden enlightenment. What would Rex say?</p>

+

+<p>Kathleen Fabian's observing eyes found time

+to follow Phil, too. He wore his dress clothes

+more like one accustomed to inhabit palaces

+than stables. She saw girlish eyes brighten

+as Edgar personally conducted the Westerner<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_233" id="Page_233">[233]</a></span>

+about the room. When she planned to sit next

+him at dinner, it had been with a thought of

+protection; as Edgar had been lavish of prophecies

+of the probable <i lang="fr" xml:lang="fr">gaucherie</i> of the cowboy.

+She also had believed it quite likely that the

+mining engineer did not possess a dress suit;

+and Edgar had drawn cheerful pictures of the

+way his arms and legs would probably protrude

+from any which he might rent; but it was quite

+evident now that Phil had a good tailor and had

+not spent all his evenings in a mountain cabin.</p>

+

+<p>Kathleen had suggested to her brother that

+he be seated beside Violet Manning, as there

+would be no other man present whom she had

+ever seen, but Edgar vetoed that plan.</p>

+

+<p>"Let the two derelicts go in together," he had

+said. "I never did see any sense in this business

+of social philanthropy. Let the lonely people

+take care of each other. They will if you only

+have the cleverness to bring them together.

+Then you're spared all the boredom yourself,

+and kill two birds with one stone."</p>

+

+<p>"My dear," his mother had said, "Miss Manning

+is an orphan, alone in the city, and you

+were quite friendly with her at the island&mdash;"</p>

+

+<p>"Yes, but I don't want to talk about the

+island all the evening. There are some widows I<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_234" id="Page_234">[234]</a></span>

+would consider; but when it comes to orphans&mdash;orphan

+teachers&mdash;count me out."</p>

+

+<p>He smiled the gleeful smile, and Kathleen

+sighed, and allotted him to the maiden of his

+choice; one who knew and hated the enthralling

+Mrs. Larrabee, and who, he averred, had enough

+"pep" not to bore him.</p>

+

+<p>Violet had somehow expected to be placed

+with Edgar at dinner, and argue with herself

+as she would, the surprise of finding herself with

+a stranger instead gave her the sensation of a

+slight; but she was cheery and natural, and her

+escort, a youth with long lashes and a sallow

+complexion, found the sea-blue eyes intelligent

+and sympathetic repositories for his mournful

+rhapsodies upon Kathleen Fabian's charms.</p>

+

+<p>She was sitting across the table from them

+beside Philip Sidney. Aqua-marines glistened

+water-blue about her bare throat, and filmy

+lace clung to her satin shoulders. Her simple

+coiffure was in contrast to the puffs and curls

+that danced airily on the other girlish heads.

+Kathleen's was straight hair, but fine, thick,

+and lustrous. The simplicity of her aspect gave

+one to know that with her "the colors seen by

+candlelight" would look the same by day.</p>

+

+<p>"It isn't every one who understands Miss<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_235" id="Page_235">[235]</a></span>

+Fabian," the long lashes announced to Violet,

+with the implication that he was in the inner

+circle. "She's what I call a subtle girl&mdash;a

+mysterious girl. Those jewels suit her. That

+liquid, elusive play of light, as the moonlight

+sparkles on the water, is like her moods,

+gentle, and&mdash;and remote. I often think Miss

+Fabian lives in a world of her own. One can't

+always be sure that she hears what one is saying."</p>

+

+<p>"I know her very little," returned Violet,

+"but she does seem a very thoughtful girl."</p>

+

+<p>"Who is that chap with her?&mdash;the big

+fellow?"</p>

+

+<p>"That is her cousin, Mr. Sidney."</p>

+

+<p>"Her cousin? I never saw him before."</p>

+

+<p>"I fancy he's not a New Yorker," said

+Violet. "He is here studying art."</p>

+

+<p>"H'm," ejaculated Long-Lashes. "He doesn't

+look the part. He doesn't wear artistic hair."</p>

+

+<p>"No," agreed Violet. "There is no studied

+disorder in his appearance. Miss Fabian seems

+to hear everything <em>he</em> says," she added demurely;

+"and why, if he is her cousin, does she

+call him Mr. Sidney?"</p>

+

+<p>Long-Lashes, who had looked cheered at the

+information of relationship, gloomed again.</p>

+

+<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_236" id="Page_236">[236]</a></span></p>

+

+<p>"I'm sure I have it right," went on Violet.

+"Mrs. Fabian told me he was her nephew."</p>

+

+<p>"Oh," returned her companion, "but Mrs.

+Fabian is Kathleen's step-mother." He looked

+across at the pair anxiously. "She has adopted

+him, though, that's evident. Her wits haven't

+gone wool-gathering since we sat down."</p>

+

+<p>When the young people returned to the

+drawing-room they found a charming transformation

+had taken place. The spacious floor

+was bare, garlands of evergreen, holly, and

+mistletoe were wreathed in all possible positions,

+and a majestic Christmas tree sparkling

+with the tiny electric bulbs of these sophisticated

+days stood in a recess. Its boughs were

+gay with favors for a german.</p>

+

+<p>An orchestra, concealed behind palms in the

+hall, played a Christmas carol as the couples

+entered.</p>

+

+<p>"There are Christmas fairies even in

+Gotham," said Phil to Kathleen. "Ah," he

+thought, "poverty may be no disgrace, but

+what a convenience is money!" "Before we go

+any further," he added aloud, "I want to thank

+you, Miss Fabian, for the honor you paid the

+stranger in a strange land by allowing me to

+take you out to dinner. I want you to know<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_237" id="Page_237">[237]</a></span>

+that I appreciate it in a gathering of your own

+friends."</p>

+

+<p>Kathleen's calm eyes met his. She was

+glad he could not know that she had expected

+to champion his crude appearance in a gathering

+where clothes went far to make the

+man.</p>

+

+<p>"I never thought of doing anything else,"

+she returned; then added, smiling, "You know

+I owed you hospitality."</p>

+

+<p>"Brave girl," returned Phil, "to dare to refer

+to that ill-starred day. I should never have had

+the courage."</p>

+

+<p>"Do you ever hear from Eliza?" asked

+Kathleen.</p>

+

+<p>"I received one letter after her arrival. It

+was mostly about her cat, Pluto. She said he

+acted like an imp of darkness."</p>

+

+<p>"Why wouldn't he&mdash;saddled with that

+name?" returned Kathleen.</p>

+

+<p>Phil watched the aqua-marines sparkle and

+dissolve on the whiteness of her neck.</p>

+

+<p>"Your mother did to my stable what the

+brownies have done here while we were dining.

+Did she tell you?"</p>

+

+<p>"She told me she bought you a few things."</p>

+

+<p>"That is a modest way to put it. Will you<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_238" id="Page_238">[238]</a></span>

+come to tea with her some day this week and

+see for yourself?"</p>

+

+<p>"I shall be glad to. I've not been able to

+remember you as being very comfortable."</p>

+

+<p>The carol ceased. The odor of evergreen was

+fresh as the forest itself. The orchestra began

+a waltz.</p>

+

+<p>"I wonder if he can dance," thought Kathleen,

+in her ignorance of the West. The evening

+clothes were promising but she had her doubts

+of Terpsichore west of the Rockies. She little

+knew that in dress clothes or sweater the cowboy

+leads the world in dancing.</p>

+

+<p>The music was irresistible and in a moment

+she was floating away in the waltz.</p>

+

+<p>"Dear me!" she thought with a mixture of

+consternation and satisfaction. "I've taken the

+best of everything!"</p>

+

+<p>Edgar cast a glance after them. "A duck

+to the water," he thought. A touch of nature

+makes the whole world kin; and when Phil

+arrived to-night, that unique dress tie of his had

+suffered damage from his overcoat. Edgar with

+lofty hospitality had supplied the lack. It had

+given him a foretaste of self-satisfaction as

+patron of the arts, and he now felt quite benevolently

+glad to find that Phil was not going<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_239" id="Page_239">[239]</a></span>

+to entangle Kathleen's feet, as he sailed off

+with his own partner, humming the waltz in

+her appreciative ear.</p>

+

+<p>Long-Lashes danced as he talked, with poetic

+meditation. Violet had no objection to him, but

+she was conscious of Edgar's every movement.

+If he did not ask her for the next dance she

+would not give him any, even if she had to

+sprain her ankle.</p>

+

+<p>However, the catastrophe was averted, because

+he did ask her for the second, and, joy of

+joys, she could not give it to him; for as she

+and Long-Lashes crept near Kathleen and Phil

+during the waltz, Phil, prompted by his partner,

+raised his eyebrows in a request.</p>

+

+<p>"The next, Miss Manning?"</p>

+

+<p>She nodded assent; and so it was that Edgar

+took the third; and as soon as he joined her

+asked her opinion of Phil's dancing.</p>

+

+<p>"Of course you're authority," he added

+tactfully, as they started.</p>

+

+<p>"Oh, I quite forgot shop while I was with

+him," said Violet coolly; "beside, I don't teach

+ballroom dancing."</p>

+

+<p>Edgar suspected that he had, in his own language,

+put his foot in it; so he used his universal

+panacea and sang the waltz in his partner's ear.</p>

+

+<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_240" id="Page_240">[240]</a></span></p>

+

+<p>"Pretty, isn't it? Say, you can dance, Miss

+Manning, if you don't know how to teach it.

+Watch me favor you in the german."</p>

+

+<p>"Mr. Sidney is a perfect dancer," she said.</p>

+

+<p>"He looks it. I'm mighty glad he doesn't

+fall all over himself. He's a trifle too big to

+make that safe; and being a wild Westerner I

+didn't know just what he would do. Do you

+ever do a jig nowadays?"</p>

+

+<p>"Occasionally&mdash;in the way of business."</p>

+

+<p>"Say," exclaimed Edgar with enthusiasm, as

+he led her safely among the thickening couples,

+"would you do one to-night if I clear the

+floor?"</p>

+

+<p>"Certainly not," returned Violet, laughing.</p>

+

+<p>"But you did at the island."</p>

+

+<p>"I only jig on a vessel's deck," said the girl.</p>

+

+<p>"And I have to wait till next summer?"</p>

+

+<p>"Poor, poor fellow!" Violet's eyes looked up

+into his pathetically. He had forgotten what

+very nice eyes they were, and what jolly little

+stars danced in their depths.</p>

+

+<p>"I'd like to clog, and I believe I'd be a good

+one. Do you teach it?"</p>

+

+<p>"Yes."</p>

+

+<p>"Then I'll enter the class!" declared Edgar

+with enthusiasm.</p>

+

+<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_241" id="Page_241">[241]</a></span></p>

+

+<p>"You're just a tiny bit over-age," said

+Violet. "Fifteen's the limit."</p>

+

+<p>"Then I'll come to your home, that's what

+I'll do. I'll take private lessons."</p>

+

+<p>"Impossible. There's no place to clog there

+except on the table."</p>

+

+<p>"But that's what I should prefer to any other

+place."</p>

+

+<p>"I'll teach you next summer," said Violet,

+"and take my pay in song."</p>

+

+<p>"That's proverbially cheap," said Edgar.</p>

+

+<p>"Yes, '<em>a</em> song,' perhaps," returned Violet,

+"but I shall exact dozens."</p>

+

+<p>Edgar tossed his head with the gleeful smile.</p>

+

+<p>"It's a bargain," he declared.</p>

+

+<hr class="chap" />

+

+<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_242" id="Page_242">[242]</a></span></p>

+

+

+

+

+<div class="chapter">

+<h2>CHAPTER XIV</h2>

+</div>

+

+<p class="ph3">SPRING</p>

+

+

+<p>Spring came all too soon for Philip after his

+gloriously solitary and absorbed winter.</p>

+

+<p>One Saturday morning, even from his sunless

+north window, it proclaimed itself and would

+not be denied. The tint of the sky, the scanty

+glimpses of waving green, and the jubilant song

+of birds in the park, all spoke of the annual

+miracle.</p>

+

+<p>"Just the day for a sketch," thought Phil,

+and buttoning his collar, he went to the head of

+the stairs and called Pat.</p>

+

+<p>"Here," responded the Irishman, "and sure

+I wish it was there, thin."</p>

+

+<p>"Where's that?"</p>

+

+<p>"Annywhere in the country-side where I

+couldn't see a pavement the day."</p>

+

+<p>"Just what I was thinking, Pat. I'm going

+to borrow the key to the park again. I wonder if

+you'd go over to Streeter's on Fourth Avenue

+for me. You remember the place you bought

+the framed Madonna for your sister. I'd like<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_243" id="Page_243">[243]</a></span>

+you to get a package of materials they were to

+have sent me yesterday. I don't want to miss a

+minute of this weather for a sketch, and I can

+be making my coffee while you're gone."</p>

+

+<p>"Sure I will. I've got to go that way for a

+pair o' boots annyway."</p>

+

+<p>"If I get a good sketch," called Phil after

+him, "you may look at it for nothing."</p>

+

+<p>Pat was privately not at all sure that it would

+be worth looking at, even if the artist thought it

+good. He had seen a number of Phil's efforts

+which looked like nothing to him, and the artist's

+explanation that they were merely impressions

+did not bring them within Pat's comprehension

+as being worth the paper they spoiled.

+Nevertheless his devotion to the artist was

+steadfast and he hastened on his errand.</p>

+

+<p>Phil ate his breakfast, and primed two canvases

+for the Monday pose. Then his Streeter

+package having arrived, he hurriedly transferred

+a few pieces of charcoal and some pans

+of water-color to his sketch-box, and was off

+down the stable steps into the mellow light of

+spring, the park key in his hand.</p>

+

+<p>"What a morning!" he thought, as he passed

+through the gate and snapped the lock after

+him. At different times when he had visited<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_244" id="Page_244">[244]</a></span>

+this enclosure with his scratch-pad, he had

+made mental notes of advantageous points for

+sketching, and he now moved straight to a

+chosen spot.</p>

+

+<p>The gravel path winding between the patches

+of fresh spring green crunched under his feet

+and reminded him of the tar and pebble roof he

+had put on a barn in Montana. How different

+this life! How glorious! If only his mother

+could sit beside him while he sketched this

+morning.</p>

+

+<p>The day was joyous as his spirit, and the park

+was soon alive with children and their capped

+and aproned nurses, truly distinguished in their

+right of eminent domain, while outside the

+hedges and railings sauntered those with no

+proprietary rights in Gramercy Park. A child

+often peeped through the fence at coveted dandelions,

+like a little peri at the gates of paradise.</p>

+

+<p>Phil worked away, paying no attention to the

+more inquisitive youngsters who dared from a

+well-bred distance to stretch and strain for a

+look at what was being done in art.</p>

+

+<p>He was hastily washing in a soft rose grey

+that was eventually to take the form of several

+charming old brick houses. They had dormer

+windows above and fascinating iron grilled<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_245" id="Page_245">[245]</a></span>

+balconies with long drawing-room windows and

+great masses of spring flowers growing in front

+of the basements.</p>

+

+<p>Philip was working with an intensity of interest

+and absorption, and suddenly he threw a

+quantity of color and water from his brush with

+a quick backward motion which sent a flood

+over one of the youngsters who had ventured

+quite near. A shout of glee went up from the

+others of the group and he turned quickly to see

+what had happened, just as a girl, not capped

+or aproned, seized the little color-target, and

+wiped the moisture from the boy's face with her

+handkerchief.</p>

+

+<p>"You, Miss Manning!" cried the artist, "and

+I can't spare time to rise and fall on my knees in

+apology."</p>

+

+<p>"Ernest is the one who should apologize,"

+said Violet, laughing, "but you know an artist

+out of doors is common property."</p>

+

+<p>"Of course," returned Phil, washing away

+industriously. "Come here, little chap. I'm

+sorry I doused you. Come and see what I'm

+doing&mdash;no, not the rest of you. I can't have a

+heavy weight on my sword arm."</p>

+

+<p>Upon this, Ernest, who had been scarlet

+under his companions' amusement, gave them<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_246" id="Page_246">[246]</a></span>

+a glance of superiority and moved to Phil's

+side.</p>

+

+<p>"What's that?" he asked, pointing to the

+object in the sketch which had been the cause of

+the present smooches on his blouse.</p>

+

+<p>"What?" asked Phil encouragingly.</p>

+

+<p>"That big tall thing that looks kind of rough,

+like a rock or something."</p>

+

+<p>"Why, that's the Metropolitan Tower. See

+it there over those roofs?" Phil directed the

+boy's gaze with his brush-handle.</p>

+

+<p>"Doesn't look much like it, does it?"</p>

+

+<p>"Oh, you wait and see."</p>

+

+<p>"Are those going to be trees there?"</p>

+

+<p>"Yes; and those spots are going to be filled

+with red and pink and yellow and white. You

+know what a tulip is? Those are the tulip beds."</p>

+

+<p>Ernest leaned comfortably against the green

+park bench. "What are you going to make the

+picture for?"</p>

+

+<p>"Enough questions," said Violet brightly.

+She was standing away a little, but mounting

+guard over her small charge and taking notes of

+the sketch for the benefit of Rex. Now she

+stepped forward and took the child's hand with

+intent to lead him away; but Phil looked smiling

+at the boy, and said:&mdash;</p>

+

+<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_247" id="Page_247">[247]</a></span></p>

+

+<p>"I'm going to try to paint this picture so that

+when any one studies it he will get its message

+and feel as I do to-day."</p>

+

+<p>The child looked back into the man's eyes,

+and discerned a fellow child.</p>

+

+<p>"Is it your birthday?" he asked gravely.</p>

+

+<p>Phil laughed softly. "I shouldn't wonder,"

+he answered. "What made you think so?"</p>

+

+<p>"You look happy&mdash;and you said&mdash;" the

+boy didn't finish, and Phil nodded.</p>

+

+<p>"Did you ever see a chrysalis, Ernest? Well,

+I think I've been expanding all winter. I feel

+sort of wingy this morning. This is a good sort

+of day for a chrysalis to burst, don't you think

+so? Perhaps this <em>is</em> my birthday and you

+guessed it before I did."</p>

+

+<p>"Come, Ernest, we must go," said Violet,

+smiling. "We're a load on the butterfly's

+wings."</p>

+

+<p>"Do you live here in the park, Miss Manning?"</p>

+

+<p>"No. I spent last night with a friend here,

+and one of the maids fell ill, so Ernest and I

+thought we could walk about a bit and smell

+the lilacs."</p>

+

+<p>"I don't want to go away," said Ernest. "I

+like to see him paint."</p>

+

+<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_248" id="Page_248">[248]</a></span></p>

+

+<p>"Just move some of that paraphernalia from

+the end of the bench and sit down, can't you,

+Miss Manning?" suggested Phil. "I piled it

+there in self-defence, but it's for show. Keep

+away from my arm, old man, and you may

+watch me all you like."</p>

+

+<p>"Come here, Ernest, you can see just as

+well," and Violet, seating herself, drew the child

+against her knee.</p>

+

+<p>The scent of moist lilacs was in the air.</p>

+

+<p>"There's a robin," cried Ernest&mdash;"oh, two!

+Look."</p>

+

+<p>"Quiet, don't frighten them," said Violet, as

+the bright-eyed birds ran beneath the bushes.</p>

+

+<p>"Put them in, won't you, Mr.&mdash;&mdash;" began

+the child eagerly.</p>

+

+<p>"That is Mr. Sidney, Ernest," said Violet.

+"It is time you were introduced and this is

+Ernest Tremaine, Mr. Sidney."</p>

+

+<p>"I'll make you a sketch of the robin in a

+minute."</p>

+

+<p>One of the birds ran toward the seated group,

+and stood a moment, proud and high-chested,

+his sleek head gleaming in the sun. Phil

+laughed to himself as his busy hand worked.</p>

+

+<p>"What are you laughing at?" asked the little

+boy.</p>

+

+<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_249" id="Page_249">[249]</a></span></p>

+

+<p>"Cock robin. He reminded me of somebody

+I know. Don't you think he looks very pleased

+with his red vest and his smooth feathers?"</p>

+

+<p>"Yes," replied the child. "Perhaps it's his

+birthday, too." He laughed, delighted that his

+big friend was amused.</p>

+

+<p>"Perhaps; and see there! He has found a

+birthday present."</p>

+

+<p>The robin had suddenly pounced upon a worm

+and was digging it from its earthy stronghold.</p>

+

+<p>Violet had to put her hand over the child's

+mouth to still his mirth. The bird was sitting

+on his tail, claws dug in the ground as he leaned

+back, dragging at his prey.</p>

+

+<p>"How good of the robins to stray away from

+Central Park, and bring spring to all these little

+places," said Violet. "I heard one last night.

+Perhaps this is the very fellow. Their notes

+always make me think of links in a chain, link

+after link, alike, yet so fresh. Wouldn't it be

+great, Ernest, if this pair are hunting for a place

+to build here, and would take a tree that you

+could see from your windows, and you could

+watch them with an opera-glass?"</p>

+

+<p>"Do you think they will?" The child looked

+up into the golden-green of tender new leaves

+through which the mellow light was sifting.</p>

+

+<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_250" id="Page_250">[250]</a></span></p>

+

+<p>"We must ask them to hurry up," said Violet,

+"before the foliage grows heavy and makes

+it hard to watch them."</p>

+

+<p>"What news from the island, Miss Manning?"

+asked Phil.</p>

+

+<p>"Oh, spring is peeping in on them, too, once

+in a while. Aunt Amy says their hill will soon

+be white with strawberry blossoms, and blue

+with violets."</p>

+

+<p>"And what of my friend, Eliza Brewster? I

+believe you told me you have never seen her."</p>

+

+<p>"Aunt Amy always speaks of her in her

+letters. She has been a great comfort to them,

+so helpful and kind."</p>

+

+<p>"Mrs. Fabian will have it that I am to see

+this wonderful island."</p>

+

+<p>"You should go. It would be paradise for an

+artist."</p>

+

+<p>"And how about yourself?" asked Phil.

+"You also have an aunt and a home on that

+green mound I hear about."</p>

+

+<p>"Oh, I'm going for the whole summer,"

+replied Violet. "I had two weeks last year, and

+it created an inordinate appetite."</p>

+

+<p>"Then you knew the Fabians there."</p>

+

+<p>"Yes, a little. In two weeks one doesn't

+make much headway with a girl like Kathleen."</p>

+

+<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_251" id="Page_251">[251]</a></span></p>

+

+<p>"Is she difficult for a girl, too?" asked

+Phil.</p>

+

+<p>"Oh, yes&mdash;at least for a new girl. She reminds

+me of a series of locked doors. You succeed

+in unlocking one, and the small room

+within merely leads to another door. You must

+strive to unlock that, and you succeed only to

+find another waiting. Such wholesome, clean,

+airy rooms, but small&mdash;always small. She is

+fascinating to me, perhaps for that very reason.

+Did you ever notice that even her hair is

+reserved?"</p>

+

+<p>Phil smiled, as his busy hand worked.

+"Christmas night is the only time I ever saw

+her with her hat off," he answered. "I'm afraid

+you're too subtle for me."</p>

+

+<p>"Oh, you'll see," said Violet; "an artist

+couldn't help seeing in the daytime. What

+color do you think it is?"</p>

+

+<p>"Dark brown."</p>

+

+<p>"I knew you would say that. Wait till you

+see her in the sunshine. It's almost red; and

+that's just like her. Even her hair keeps everything

+to itself as long as it can."</p>

+

+<p>Phil laughed. "Quite different from brother,

+eh?"</p>

+

+<p>"You mean that he is frank?" asked Violet,<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_252" id="Page_252">[252]</a></span>

+with a perceptible indrawing of her own

+frankness.</p>

+

+<p>"Well, that's a mild word for it," answered

+Phil. "I don't know Edgar's family crest, but

+the inscription should read, freely translated,

+'I give myself away.'"</p>

+

+<p>The speaker laughed at his own folly, and

+glanced up for sympathy. The baby bachelor's

+full lips were grave and her eyes a little

+dark.</p>

+

+<p>"I like people to be frank," she said briefly.</p>

+

+<p>Phil drew his own lips together in a noiseless

+whistle and his eyes twinkled at the Metropolitan

+Tower in the sketch.</p>

+

+<p>"Keep off the grass," he mused. "I thought

+you said reserve fascinated you," he remarked

+aloud, mildly.</p>

+

+<p>"One thing I don't like Mr. Fabian to reserve,"

+said Violet, "and that is his voice."</p>

+

+<p>"Great, isn't it?" agreed Phil. "I was glad

+he sang for us Christmas night."</p>

+

+<p>"Oh, I supposed you had heard him many

+times. If he were my cousin I would give him

+no rest."</p>

+

+<p>"He's not mine, you see. I'm only a step-relation,

+and such a long step!"</p>

+

+<p>Violet bit her lip and looked at the speaker<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_253" id="Page_253">[253]</a></span>

+reflectively. She felt there was no rhyme or

+reason in his amused expression.</p>

+

+<p>"Then, that is why you haven't seen Miss

+Kathleen's hair in the daylight," she said.

+"Have you discovered her locked doors?"</p>

+

+<p>"She let me into her ballroom, at Christmas,

+and I think I must have been so pleased with

+that I didn't try to get any further."</p>

+

+<p>"I see," returned Violet. "Well, if you go to

+the island you'll have a chance to explore.

+Of course your experience with her may be

+different from mine. Perhaps an artist will

+have the open sesame to her doors. I'm not a

+bit intellectual. I have to dance my way into

+people's confidence, or I don't get there."</p>

+

+<p>"I hear you teach that very pretty art."</p>

+

+<p>"She teaches me," put in Ernest, who was

+tired of being left out of the conversation. "I

+can dance a jig."</p>

+

+<p>"Bully for you," said Phil. "Go ahead, right

+here on the path."</p>

+

+<p>"Oh, I can't without any music."</p>

+

+<p>"There's the music." Phil pointed with his

+brush-handle to a lofty branch where the robin

+was pouring forth linked sweetness, long drawn-out.</p>

+

+<p>"The pebbles are too rolly," said the child.<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_254" id="Page_254">[254]</a></span>

+"You said you'd make me a picture of the

+robin."</p>

+

+<p>"So I did."</p>

+

+<p>Phil pulled toward him another block of

+paper and swiftly washed in the green of the

+lilac bush and its purple pendants. Before it,

+on a little stretch of green sward, grew the

+robin, high-chested, alert.</p>

+

+<p>"How proud he looks!" said the child,

+delighted.</p>

+

+<p>"Yes, he is saying: 'I own the earth, and the

+worms therein.'" The artist laughed to himself.

+"'If a worm shows his head, I gobble him up!

+and I can sing as beautifully as I gobble. The

+world stops to watch and listen. I am cock

+robin! Look at me!'"</p>

+

+<p>Artist and child laughed together as Phil

+handed over the wet sketch to the eager little

+hands. Violet's eyes were glued to it. She was

+wondering if later she could make a surreptitious

+purchase of it for Rex.</p>

+

+<p>"I had heard of you before Christmas," she

+said. "One of my housemates goes to your art

+school. Regina Morris."</p>

+

+<p>Phil shook his head. "I've not met any of

+the girls. Are you a housekeeper?"</p>

+

+<p>"Three of us live together in a tiny apart<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_255" id="Page_255">[255]</a></span>ment.

+I wish you might come to see us sometime."</p>

+

+<p>Phil looked up with his frank smile. "I'll call

+on you at the island if you'll let me, and if I

+come&mdash;that last is such a big If, though Mrs.

+Fabian is determined."</p>

+

+<p>"Oh, then you'll go. I've seen enough of

+Mrs. Fabian to know that."</p>

+

+<p>"Then it must be but for a week or two. I

+mustn't stay where I can't work."</p>

+

+<p>"You'll stay," nodded Violet. "You'll live

+under a rock if necessary and catch fish for

+food."</p>

+

+<p>"Are you so enthusiastic?"</p>

+

+<p>"Isn't everybody?"</p>

+

+<p>"Nobody, that I have heard. Eliza spoke of

+it like facing grim death. Edgar says it gives

+him the 'Willies,' whatever they may be. Aunt

+Isabel goes because her husband wants to sail."</p>

+

+<p>"Did Mr. Fabian say it gave him the 'Willies'?"

+asked Violet, her cheeks rose and her

+eyes dark again. "Why does he go, then?"</p>

+

+<p>"I didn't ask him; but a bare hill lying in a

+wet fog doesn't sound inviting even if one may

+occasionally catch a glimpse of the sea. You

+know the sea and I are strangers."</p>

+

+<p>"Did Kathleen talk to you about it?" asked<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_256" id="Page_256">[256]</a></span>

+Violet, the hurt spot in her pride still smarting,

+as memory showed her pictures of waves sparkling

+in moonlight, and song that turned the

+scene into enchantment.</p>

+

+<p>"No, I believe we never mentioned the summer.

+She talked to me of college and I talked to

+her of my one dissipation of the autumn, an

+evening over there at the Players' Club,"&mdash;Phil

+nodded over his shoulder toward the club

+windows,&mdash;"and the wit and wisdom I heard."</p>

+

+<p>"I judge you have friends in the park," said

+Violet.</p>

+

+<p>"Yes, I have a work-room over here," replied

+Phil vaguely. His wits were about him

+when he contemplated the disconcerting possibility

+of Ernest's sturdy little legs finding

+their way up his stable stair.</p>

+

+<p>"I want to show this to mother," said the

+child, gloating over his sketch. Phil had used no

+anæmic colors in that. The lilacs were of a generous

+purple, the robin's vest a royal red. When

+he had thanked the artist and they had parted,

+Ernest prattled of his treasure as he walked on

+beside Violet.</p>

+

+<p>"He's a proud bird," he said, half-soliloquizing

+after his kind. "He wants the world to

+listen when he sings; and his eyes are so bright,<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_257" id="Page_257">[257]</a></span>

+when he sees a worm coming along he gobbles

+him quick, and then he looks prouder than

+ever."</p>

+

+<p>Violet's thoughts were busy, and somewhat

+gloomy. Edgar had spoken patronizingly to her

+of the big Western artist who had fallen into

+their family circle.</p>

+

+<p>Of whom was Phil thinking that gave him so

+much amusement while he sketched the robin?</p>

+

+<p>Violet was not sure whether her mental disturbance

+was more resentment toward the

+artist, or hurt that Edgar Fabian should declare

+that he had been bored at the island.</p>

+

+<hr class="chap" />

+

+<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_258" id="Page_258">[258]</a></span></p>

+

+

+

+

+<div class="chapter">

+<h2>CHAPTER XV</h2>

+</div>

+

+<p class="ph3">JUNE</p>

+

+

+<p>During the long winter a strong bond of friendship

+grew between Mrs. Wright and Eliza

+Brewster. The latter's broken heart seemed to

+heal in the very act of caring for the exiled lady,

+and in the consolation of knowing that her own

+familiarity with the island, and with all domestic

+cares, gave daily return for the unspeakable

+benefit of her home.</p>

+

+<p>Upon Mr. Wright she looked from the first

+with a reflective and judicial eye. He was Mrs.

+Wright's husband, and that fact made Eliza

+rigidly careful to do her duty by him; but mentally

+she classified the adopted islander as a lazy

+man who had all his days been looking for a soft

+spot and who had been irresistibly drawn to the

+freedom and irresponsibility of a life which permitted

+him to wear a négligée shirt during the

+semi-hibernation of the winter, and made no

+demands upon him beyond an occasional arising,

+by request, from the lounge to shovel snow-paths

+and bring in fuel, and at evening to play<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_259" id="Page_259">[259]</a></span>

+checkers with Captain James until an early

+bedtime.</p>

+

+<p>He liked Eliza's cooking and her nimble,

+quiet ways, and externally they were at peace;

+but Captain James's shrewd eyes often read

+Eliza's suppressed impatience. One spring

+morning, when he met her in the island road, he

+attempted a mild protest in favor of the master

+of the house.</p>

+

+<p>"Mr. Wright's a clever feller," he said

+argumentatively. "What's wrong with him,

+Eliza?"</p>

+

+<p>"What have I said about him?" she snapped.</p>

+

+<p>"Don't you suppose I got eyes?" asked

+Captain James.</p>

+

+<p>Eliza was startled. She must put even

+greater guard upon herself.</p>

+

+<p>"Now, I ain't a-goin' to talk about him,

+James. I s'pose it's all right for a great hulk of

+a man to own a dainty city woman and take her

+away from her friends and mew her up on a

+snow-bank to suit his convenience."</p>

+

+<p>"What you goin' back on the island for?"

+inquired Captain James.</p>

+

+<p>"I ain't goin' back on it. I'm island folks. I

+find there is something, after all, in this talk

+about native air."</p>

+

+<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_260" id="Page_260">[260]</a></span></p>

+

+<p>"It's treated you all right," agreed the other,

+regarding her countenance critically. "You've

+dropped off five years this winter. Come summer

+you'll shed ten more, like enough, and look

+like you ought to look, Eliza. You ain't any old

+woman."</p>

+

+<p>Eliza ignored the blandishment.</p>

+

+<p>"I can see in the glass I look better," she

+returned impersonally, "and it makes me mad

+to think it's all because I live in the house with

+a sacrifice. Supposin' I'd come back to this

+island alone."</p>

+

+<p>"Mrs. Wright don't act like any sacrifice,"

+protested Captain James; "she's chipper as a

+canary bird."</p>

+

+<p>"Of course she is. That's the kind of a wife a

+man like that's sure to get. It's been my lot in

+life, James, to live with angels," added Eliza

+fiercely. "Can you tell me why I should be just

+as cantankerous as ever?"</p>

+

+<p>Captain James laughed. "Mebbe there's as

+much truth in that talk about original sin as

+there is about native air," he returned. "You

+always was a limb, Eliza."</p>

+

+<p>She smiled reluctantly. "I warned her before

+I came," she returned, grave again. "I told her

+I was bad, and <em>set</em>."</p>

+

+<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_261" id="Page_261">[261]</a></span></p>

+

+<p>"But you couldn't scare her, eh?"</p>

+

+<p>"Nobody could do that. She ain't afraid of

+anything above ground. 'T ain't fear makes her

+yield to Lazy-Bones there; and when she sets

+out to make him do something he don't want

+to, she gets him every time." Eliza's eyes wandered

+to a cottage by the roadside. "There's

+Betsy Eaton watchin' us. I expect she's wonderin'

+why we're standin' in the wet so long.

+Well, I've blown off steam and I'll run home.

+I s'pose you'll be comin' up to-night to move

+those little pieces o' wood around."</p>

+

+<p>"Sure thing, Eliza," returned Captain James

+with a grin. "Lemme teach you the game so

+you can play it with him times when I don't

+come."</p>

+

+<p>In the speaker's own parlance he was trying

+to "get a rise" out of his old friend; and he

+succeeded. Eliza's eyes flashed almost with the

+fire of youth.</p>

+

+<p>"I'd throw 'em at him. I know I would&mdash;every

+checker of 'em."</p>

+

+<p>"Well, he'll be fishin' again soon," laughed

+Captain James soothingly, "now his new boat's

+about done."</p>

+

+<p>"H'm!" grunted Eliza; and with no other

+form of farewell, she started to trudge up the<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_262" id="Page_262">[262]</a></span>

+hill toward home. The earth was moist and

+yielding; the chill spring was here, and nature

+was drawing her green paint-brush over the

+high wave of the bluff. Little star-flowers

+bloomed under her energizing kisses, and

+shivered bravely when the east wind blew.</p>

+

+<p>This morning the sun fell with sufficient

+warmth on the stone step for Pluto to lie there,

+and blink at the first sparrow he had seen. On

+the whole, Eliza's move away from New York

+had his entire approval. The change from the

+restrictions of a city flat to this place was in

+itself a delight, and far from agreeing with

+Eliza's estimation of the master of the house he

+found him quite the most sensible human being

+he had ever encountered. One who appreciated

+a soft lounge when he saw it, and who always

+made room for a cat, and never disturbed his

+slumbers with precipitate movement. Eliza

+watched their growing intimacy with grim

+amusement.</p>

+

+<p>"Birds of a feather flock together," was

+frequently her mental comment.</p>

+

+<p>As the spring unfolded, and the early mornings

+were less chill, Mr. Wright again took up

+his suspended practice of making sunrise visits

+to his pond. At first Pluto considered this a<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_263" id="Page_263">[263]</a></span>

+foolish practice; but at last he learned to connect

+it with attractive pieces of fish which came his

+way, and again he paid tribute of admiration to

+the hand which always discriminated so nicely

+just which point back of his ears should be

+scratched in order to establish the most friendly

+relations.</p>

+

+<p>Eliza's threat that he should reside in the

+chicken-house had come to naught, for it had

+required but a few days for Pluto to recover

+from the savagery to which his novel contact

+with Mother Earth at first reduced him; and he

+again became a domestic animal full of content

+in the equally novel petting which now fell to

+his share.</p>

+

+<p>One day Eliza with amused memory of her

+childish terrors pushed open the door of the

+forlorn chicken-house, and looked in; but one

+look was enough. She closed it again quickly on

+the dirt and cobwebs. Its small windows were

+opaque with the dust of years. It was almost

+picturesque with its leaking roof which had

+once been red, huddling close to earth under

+the protection of those hardy old warriors, the

+balm-of-Gilead trees.</p>

+

+<p>"If 'twas mine," mused Eliza, as she

+withdrew from the dirt and damp of the close<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_264" id="Page_264">[264]</a></span>

+interior, "I'd clean it with a good fire. It's

+hopeless."</p>

+

+<p>A sparrow lit on the despised roof, and

+poured a song toward the sea.</p>

+

+<p>"That's so," said Eliza looking up at the tiny

+creature with a smile. "It <em>is</em> spring. It's a

+wonder to be in a place where there ain't one

+o' your English cousins."</p>

+

+<p>She turned and nearly trod on Pluto. His

+green eyes were fixed on the bird. His lithe

+body crouched in the fresh grass and quivered

+along its length in the intensity of his upward

+gaze.</p>

+

+<p>"Pluto Brewster!" she exclaimed in desperation.

+"Supposin' you ever should catch a bird

+up here!" She stooped and boxed his ears. He

+laid them back and, blinking the eager eyes,

+crouched lower.</p>

+

+<p>Mrs. Wright on her doorstep saw Eliza approaching,

+the cat under her arm.</p>

+

+<p>"He was lookin' at a sparrow," announced

+Eliza.</p>

+

+<p>Mrs. Wright laughed. "I've heard that a cat

+may look even at a king," she said.</p>

+

+<p>"If Pluto should kill birds!" exclaimed his

+owner desperately.</p>

+

+<p>"Would you, little tiger?" asked Mrs.<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_265" id="Page_265">[265]</a></span>

+Wright, closing her hand over the cat's face and

+giving it a little shake.</p>

+

+<p>Pluto was beginning to consider that women

+were a sad mistake. He struggled to get free

+and Eliza dropped him.</p>

+

+<p>"How the spring has stolen past us," said

+Mrs. Wright. "Do you realize Eliza that even

+June is moving on its way? Look over there at

+the Fabian cottage."</p>

+

+<p>"Why that's James out on the veranda."</p>

+

+<p>"Yes, he has had a letter from Mrs. Fabian.

+She wants him to open the house. To-day is

+Kathleen Fabian's Commencement."</p>

+

+<p>"That's so," said Eliza coolly. "You showed

+me the invitation."</p>

+

+<p>"It was rather nice of her to remember me,

+way off here, and little as I know them."</p>

+

+<p>"I guess Kathleen would be an agreeable

+enough girl if she was let alone," said Eliza.</p>

+

+<p>She had for some time now given up anxiety

+lest the high words over the barrel in Phil's

+studio bear bad fruit for him; for a letter had

+set her mind at rest on that score, and she felt

+instinctively that she had Kathleen Fabian to

+thank for that.</p>

+

+<p>"But any girl would be slow to cut off

+friendly relations with a feller like Mr. Sid<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_266" id="Page_266">[266]</a></span>ney,"

+she considered, prejudice still holding her

+in a strong grasp.</p>

+

+<p>"So they're comin'," said Eliza, in a lifeless

+voice. The winter had been very happy. She

+began to long for the fall.</p>

+

+<p>"Yes, very soon."</p>

+

+<p>"Is your niece comin' with 'em?"</p>

+

+<p>"No; she will keep busy until July." Mrs.

+Wright drew a deep breath.</p>

+

+<p>"Oh, how lovely this is, Eliza," she went on.

+"This morning makes me think of Stopford

+Brooke's lines,&mdash;</p>

+

+<div class="poetry-container"><div class="poetry"><div class="stanza">

+    <div class="verse">'A little sun, a little rain,</div>

+    <div class="verse">A soft wind blowing from the West&mdash;</div>

+    <div class="verse">And woods and fields are sweet again,</div>

+    <div class="verse">And the warmth within the mountain's breast.'</div>

+</div></div></div>

+

+<p>Our mountain&mdash;what a height we should see

+we had if that sea could roll back; we can feel

+the warmth in its breast this morning, and the

+lovely miracles it is putting forth. Why don't

+you look happier, Eliza?" Mrs. Wright smiled

+as she asked the question. Her friend's eyes

+were gloomily following the movements of

+Captain James in the distance as he beat rugs

+on the grass beside the boulder cottage.</p>

+

+<p>"I guess you know why," rejoined Eliza

+briefly.</p>

+

+<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_267" id="Page_267">[267]</a></span></p>

+

+<p>"The idea of letting anybody rob you of

+your happiness," said Mrs. Wright. "I shall

+have to put Marcus Aurelius side of your bed

+so you can read him before you go to sleep.

+I thought you were more of a philosopher,

+Eliza."</p>

+

+<p>"You ain't half through your disappointments

+in me yet," returned Eliza drily.</p>

+

+<p>"Ho!" exclaimed Mrs. Wright, resting her

+hand on the shoulder of her companion as she

+stood a step below her. "I haven't begun on

+them yet."</p>

+

+<p>"Just s'posin'," said Eliza, looking about at

+the fair prospect, "that Mrs. Ballard could be

+with us to see the summer comin'. How comfortable

+we'd make her!"</p>

+

+<p>"I don't believe she'd come," said Mrs.

+Wright gently, "as much as she loves us."</p>

+

+<p>"That's what he said," returned Eliza musingly.

+"He said we hadn't ought to believe we

+could make her happier than she is."</p>

+

+<p>"He? Who?"</p>

+

+<p>"Mr. Sidney."</p>

+

+<p>"Good for the boy," said Mrs. Wright, who

+had heard so much and often about Philip that

+she felt as if she had met him.</p>

+

+<p>"Why can't we go on here just as we have,"<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_268" id="Page_268">[268]</a></span>

+said Eliza regretfully. "Why must folks

+come?"</p>

+

+<p>"Listen to the grudging one!" exclaimed

+Mrs. Wright lightly. "And what a different

+doctrine Nature is preaching us this morning.

+Look where you will, no limitations&mdash;none.

+Illimitable sky, illimitable sea. That's the way

+it should be in our hearts, Eliza, illimitable

+love."</p>

+

+<p>"I dare say," returned the other with a world

+of obstinacy in her tone.</p>

+

+<p>"The world can't be full of Mrs. Ballards,

+but they're all our brothers and sisters just the

+same. Mr. Brooke goes on in his verse to say:&mdash;</p>

+

+<div class="poetry-container"><div class="poetry"><div class="stanza">

+    <div class="verse">'A little love, a little trust,</div>

+    <div class="verse">A soft impulse, a sudden dream,</div>

+    <div class="verse">And life as dry as desert dust</div>

+    <div class="verse">Is fresher than a mountain stream,'</div>

+</div></div></div>

+

+<p>I don't like that hard look to come in your eyes,

+Eliza. The feeling behind it turns life as dry as

+desert dust wherever it holds sway."</p>

+

+<p>"I told you&mdash;" began Eliza slowly.</p>

+

+<p>"I know all about that," interrupted Mrs.

+Wright, "but little by little you'll find that all

+hard wilfulness is flat, stale, and unprofitable.

+Now you'd better spend this week before the

+Fabians come in trying that recipe every time<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_269" id="Page_269">[269]</a></span>

+you think of them. 'A little love, a little trust,

+a soft impulse.'"</p>

+

+<p>"And what will Mrs. Fabian be doin' all

+that time?" asked Eliza hardily. "Do you

+suppose she'll have any soft impulses toward me

+until I give her her aunt's things? That barrel

+upstairs in the back bedroom has got her grandmother's

+china and silver in it."</p>

+

+<p>"What do you want of it, Eliza?" asked Mrs.

+Wright.</p>

+

+<p>"To keep it away from her," was the prompt

+reply; and the speaker saw a cloud pass over the

+eyes she had learned to love. "Anyway, Mrs.

+Wright," she went on earnestly, "she left 'em

+all to me, all her things, Mrs. Ballard did."</p>

+

+<p>"I see," said Mrs. Wright thoughtfully.

+"Doubtless her grateful heart longed to leave

+you her money, and deciding to do otherwise

+she felt she wished you to have something

+equivalent."</p>

+

+<p>While they talked, Captain James had

+started across the field toward them, and now

+he drew near, walking beneath the bold and

+intricate curves made by wheeling swallows, the

+deep blue of their backs flashing iridescent in

+the sunlight.</p>

+

+<p>"Say," he called, "these fellers have set up<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_270" id="Page_270">[270]</a></span>

+housekeepin' over there in the Fabian porch.

+Snug as bugs in rugs they are. Darned if I

+know what to do."</p>

+

+<p>"Who?&mdash;the swallows?" asked Mrs. Wright.</p>

+

+<p>"Yes." Captain James seated himself on a

+rustic bench in the sun. "It's the new wind-break

+they had put up last summer did the mischief.

+Always been too blowy other springs for

+'em to try it."</p>

+

+<p>"You dislike to disturb them? Is that the

+trouble?" asked Mrs. Wright.</p>

+

+<p>"I dislike to get my head took off," returned

+Captain James. "Mrs. Fabian'll have the law

+on me if I don't knock the nest down and clean

+up, and Kathleen'll read me the riot act if I

+do."</p>

+

+<p>The speaker pushed his hat to one side and

+scratched his head.</p>

+

+<p>Eliza regarded him unsmiling.</p>

+

+<p>"Do you always take care of their cottage?"

+she asked.</p>

+

+<p>"Ever since they've had one," he answered.

+"Used to take Kathleen and Edgar out to my

+pound when they wa'n't knee high to a grasshopper."</p>

+

+<p>"And now she has graduated from college.

+Think of it," said Mrs. Wright.</p>

+

+<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_271" id="Page_271">[271]</a></span></p>

+

+<p>"Wa'n't I invited?" asked Captain James

+proudly. "I guess I was. All engraved up

+pretty, and Kathleen's card inside. When they

+fledged Edgar and shoved him out o' the nest he

+didn't remember me; but little sober-sides

+there, she wa'n't goin' to forget an old friend.

+Edgar's boots nor his hat don't exactly fit him,

+late years," went on Captain James good-humoredly,

+"but Kathleen always was a brick

+and she ain't got over it. I guess I'll let the

+swallers alone till she's had her say anyway."</p>

+

+<p>"Going to be over there this afternoon, Captain

+James?" asked Mrs. Wright.</p>

+

+<p>"Yes. I've got Betsy Eaton washin' the

+dishes and cleanin' now, and I'll be back again

+on the rugs later."</p>

+

+<p>"Let us go over, Eliza," said Mrs. Wright.

+"I want you to see what a beautiful cottage it

+is."</p>

+

+<p>Eliza looked at her with steady significance.

+"I'm goin' to be too busy," she said slowly.</p>

+

+<p>Captain James sighed and rose. "Handsome

+day," he remarked, as he trudged off to dinner.</p>

+

+<p>"To-morrow, then?" asked Mrs. Wright.</p>

+

+<p>"No," responded Eliza firmly, freed of Captain

+James's presence, "nor the day after that.

+I ain't double-faced, Mrs. Wright. I can't go in<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_272" id="Page_272">[272]</a></span>

+when they ain't there, if I wouldn't when they

+are there."</p>

+

+<p>Mrs. Wright laughed softly. "My square-toed

+Eliza," she said, turning into the house.

+"Oh, I forgot to say there's a letter for you

+here. Mr. Wright must have left it on the

+table."</p>

+

+<p>Eliza had stooped over the row of sweet peas

+coming up thriftily about the house, and she

+rose slowly and followed her friend indoors,

+but when she saw the small stubbed writing

+on the envelope her eyes brightened. Twice

+before during the winter had it come to cheer

+her.</p>

+

+<p>"Mr. Sidney!" she said, and sat down to

+enjoy her letter to the full.</p>

+

+<p>"<span class="smcap">Dear Eliza</span>," it began.</p>

+

+<p>"We had a hot day yesterday. Pat's tongue

+hung out and he assured me that the only thing

+that would do him any good was to take off his

+flesh and sit in his bones. They tell me the

+summer is here to stay, and I am going to make

+an aisle through my opposite neighbor, the

+storeroom, and get at the window in there so as

+to get a draught through. The sun bakes the

+stable roof, but I wouldn't mind it if the perspiration

+didn't run into my eyes. This state<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_273" id="Page_273">[273]</a></span>

+of things makes me an easy prey to Aunt Isabel's

+kind insistence that I shall spend a week

+with her. She says two; but that will depend on

+how much fog there is and whether I have to

+waste time.</p>

+

+<p>"I can't compliment you on being a complete

+letter-writer, but I judge you have had a good

+winter and kept from freezing. You say the

+islands have looked like frosted wedding cakes.

+The first part sounds good to me. I hope you've

+saved some over. That's the sort of wedding

+cake I'd like to dream on just now. You may

+believe my heart often goes homing to the

+mountains. What would I give for one night

+under the windy trees. The very stars are hot

+here&mdash;but&mdash;I like it!</p>

+

+<p>"I've had a wonderful winter. I can't say

+I'm a belle at the Academy. One of the teachers

+turned on me the other day and said he

+would thank me to stop trying to teach him how

+to teach me. He said my 'stand-and-deliver'

+methods might be <i lang="fr" xml:lang="fr">de rigueur</i> west of the Rockies,

+but something less aggressive would be

+more becoming a student here who knew as

+little as I did. They all have a hunted look as

+they come near me; for I don't care a straw how

+much they snub me if I can only get from them<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_274" id="Page_274">[274]</a></span>

+what I'm after; and I glow with the consciousness

+that I have accomplished a lot, even though

+my strenuous path is strewn with the wounded

+and I have some bruises myself.</p>

+

+<p>"Dear Aunt Mary! I send her a wireless

+every night. I wonder if she gets it!</p>

+

+<p>"Aunt Isabel has been a trump to me the

+whole winter, patient with my neglect, and letting

+me go my own gait; but she brought a

+thermometer over to the stable in my absence

+one day and sat down in my room waiting for it

+to go up. It didn't lag, and I found her sitting

+there in a wilted state, and she declared that

+she should stay until I promised to go with

+her to the island and get a coat of tan. So I

+promised. It will be great to get a breath, and

+great to see you again, Eliza. Kindly arrange

+that the third week in June shall be free from

+fog. My time will be precious.</p>

+

+<p>"Give my compliments to Mrs. Wright and

+tell her I had a pleasant chat with her niece one

+morning in the park while I was sketching.</p>

+

+<p>"Tell Pluto to be ready to pose with you if

+old ocean veils himself.</p>

+

+<p>"With my best to you,</p>

+

+<p class="right">

+"As ever

+<br />

+"<span class="smcap">Philip Sidney</span>."

+</p>

+

+<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_275" id="Page_275">[275]</a></span></p>

+

+<p>"Now, then, Eliza," said Mrs. Wright when

+her companion had read this epistle aloud.</p>

+

+<p>"Now, then, what?" returned Eliza happily.</p>

+

+<p>"He'll be a link. He'll have to be. You can't

+be crabbed and offish and spoil his one vacation."</p>

+

+<p>"Do you mean Mrs. Fabian?" Eliza gave

+her rare laugh as she pushed the letter back into

+its envelope. "If she could help her nephew

+from runnin' after common folks, she would;

+but she certainly won't run after him. We

+shan't clash any."</p>

+

+<p>"I'm glad I'm going to see the boy," said

+Mrs. Wright. Violet had written of him: at first

+with girlish enthusiasm, but after the park interview

+more grudgingly. It seemed rather silly

+in a grown man to be so amused by the airs of a

+robin! For some unknown reason the memory

+of that foolishness had rankled for days.</p>

+

+<hr class="chap" />

+

+<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_276" id="Page_276">[276]</a></span></p>

+

+

+

+

+<div class="chapter">

+<h2>CHAPTER XVI</h2>

+</div>

+

+<p class="ph3">THE PEACEMAKER</p>

+

+

+<p>Kathleen Fabian, out of school in that month

+of June, was at home in body, but with her

+mind still clinging about the scenes of her college

+life.</p>

+

+<p>"I do believe, all things considered," said

+her mother when they were sitting alone one

+morning over their coffee, "that I am against

+college for girls!"</p>

+

+<p>Kathleen looked up absent-mindedly from

+the letter she had been reading. "What's the

+matter?" she asked vaguely.</p>

+

+<p>"You have scarcely heard a word I have

+said since you came home," declared Mrs.

+Fabian. "Your thoughts are a thousand miles

+away all the time."</p>

+

+<p>"Not a thousand," protested the girl. "Four

+years is a long time, you know. To break up

+one's home&mdash;to break all those ties&mdash;means

+so much."</p>

+

+<p>"Exactly what I say," retorted Mrs. Fabian.

+"I should like to know when you will begin<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_277" id="Page_277">[277]</a></span>

+again to realize that this is home, and that your

+father and mother would like some share in

+your thoughts."</p>

+

+<p>"Why, I must be horribly selfish," returned

+the girl.</p>

+

+<p>"There it is again!" exclaimed her mother,

+increasingly nettled. "If it takes unselfishness

+to show some interest in home after a girl leaves

+college, I say she had better not go there."</p>

+

+<p>"Very well," returned Kathleen, smiling.

+"Don't you ever send another daughter; but

+I'm glad you made the mistake with me. I've

+been so happy, mother."</p>

+

+<p>"Oh, well," returned Mrs. Fabian, somewhat

+mollified by the wistfulness of the girl's look

+and tone, "I suppose you have, and perhaps it

+is all for the best; but hereafter, when I speak

+to you, I intend to begin 'Kathleen Fabian!'

+and you must reply 'Present' before I go on."</p>

+

+<p>"Have you been talking to me?" asked

+Kathleen naïvely.</p>

+

+<p>"Well, rather. I have been telling you something

+that should be very interesting, considering

+the height of the thermometer. Father says

+we are to start for the island next Wednesday;

+and I am holding in my hand an acceptance from

+Philip Sidney to my invitation to go with us."</p>

+

+<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_278" id="Page_278">[278]</a></span></p>

+

+<p>"How very nice," said Kathleen courteously.</p>

+

+<p>Mrs. Fabian, always on the sensitive lookout

+where her young relative was concerned, thought

+she detected a perfunctory note.</p>

+

+<p>"You knew I had asked him?"</p>

+

+<p>"Yes, I think you did mention it before

+Commencement."</p>

+

+<p>"He says," said Mrs. Fabian, "that you

+have never talked to him about the island."</p>

+

+<p>"But think," returned Kathleen, "how seldom

+I have talked with him."</p>

+

+<p>"Yes," returned her mother resignedly, "and

+how full your head is of other matters. You

+were very nice to Phil on Christmas night, here.

+I wasn't sure but that you would invite him

+yourself."</p>

+

+<p>"Oh, why should I?"</p>

+

+<p>"No reason, if you don't see any. Phil was

+very polite to you at your graduation. Those

+flowers were exquisite."</p>

+

+<p>"Yes." The girl smiled. "They would have

+worried me, but that I know flowers are cheaper

+in June."</p>

+

+<p>"I don't think that's a very nice thing to

+say," observed Mrs. Fabian.</p>

+

+<p>"I meant it very nicely," returned Kathleen

+mildly.</p>

+

+<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_279" id="Page_279">[279]</a></span></p>

+

+<p>"Well, perhaps it isn't so strange that you

+have not talked the island to him, since you

+have been engrossed in other things; but I have

+had all the trouble in the world to induce him

+to go; and if you had roused his enthusiasm a

+little it would have been easier."</p>

+

+<p>"Why have you urged him?" asked the girl.</p>

+

+<p>Her mother regarded her for a pause, in

+exasperated silence. "Are you aware," she

+returned at last, "that it is 87 in the shade this

+morning? Are you aware that these rooms,

+where the draught constantly changes the air,

+are slightly different from that studio, baking

+under a stable roof and hemmed in by high

+buildings?"</p>

+

+<p>"Of course, of course!"</p>

+

+<p>"Are you aware," went on Mrs. Fabian

+sonorously, "that one who has always previously

+had a home might find a brief change

+from cheap restaurants invigorating in hot

+weather?"</p>

+

+<p>"I didn't know," said Kathleen. "I thought

+perhaps he was too busy to notice. He"&mdash;she

+hesitated, but imperceptibly to Mrs. Fabian,&mdash;"he

+has not called here since I returned."</p>

+

+<p>"That's just it," flashed Phil's defender.

+"He never spares himself. He thinks of nothing<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_280" id="Page_280">[280]</a></span>

+but work. Now, I have never forced any of my

+relatives on the Fabians," with heightened

+color, "but your father likes Phil. He was

+delighted to have me ask him. He has charged

+me to hold on to the boy until he can join

+us."</p>

+

+<p>"I hope he can stay," put in Kathleen

+politely.</p>

+

+<p>"If I can get him there," said Mrs. Fabian.

+"Here is this matter of the berths, as usual.

+The stateroom has been engaged for a month,

+but we have only Molly's berth outside."</p>

+

+<p>Kathleen's eyes grew eager. "Well, that's

+all right," she said. "You won't mind taking

+Molly in the stateroom in my place, and let

+Mr. Sidney have her berth. I'll wait and come

+up with father."</p>

+

+<p>"You not go with us? Kathleen, you're

+absurd." Color streamed again over Mrs.

+Fabian's face.</p>

+

+<p>"No, no. That will be a fine plan, and

+relieve you of all embarrassment. Father will

+like to have me here, and I shall love to stay

+with him."</p>

+

+<p>Mrs. Fabian gazed at the girl in silence. She

+admired Kathleen extravagantly. There was

+something in the girl's natural poise and ele<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_281" id="Page_281">[281]</a></span>gance

+which the stepmother, with an innate,

+unacknowledged consciousness of inferiority,

+worshipped. She never forgot that Kathleen's

+mother had been a Van Ruysler. Now, as if it

+were not enough that Edgar scorned the island,

+and even if he should be granted leave of

+absence would not play the courteous host to

+Phil, now Kathleen was anxious to avoid him,

+and caught at an excuse to postpone her departure.</p>

+

+<p>The girl grew uncomfortable under the fixed

+stare bent upon her, and when suddenly Mrs.

+Fabian dropped her coffee-spoon and burying

+her face in her hands burst into tears, Kathleen

+arose in dismay, the soft laces of her négligée

+floating in the breeze she made hastening around

+the table and taking the weeping one in her

+arms.</p>

+

+<p>"I don't know what has happened," she said

+in bewilderment, "but I am sure it is all my

+fault. I was trying to help you, mother."</p>

+

+<p>"You were not!" responded Mrs. Fabian, as

+angrily as the softening nature of salt water

+would permit. "You were trying to avoid that

+poor, lonely little fellow."</p>

+

+<p>Kathleen bit her lip as memory presented

+the stalwart, self-confident artist before her.</p>

+

+<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_282" id="Page_282">[282]</a></span></p>

+

+<p>"You tell me to take my young cousin if I

+must, and get his visit over with before you

+come up there to enjoy yourself. You don't

+care how much you hurt his feelings."</p>

+

+<p>"Why, mother, wouldn't he think it very

+natural that I should keep father company?"</p>

+

+<p>"No, certainly not, when he knows that

+Edgar is here. He doesn't know that Edgar

+isn't any use to anybody, unless it's Mrs.

+Larrabee. He'd just think the truth: that you

+don't want to be there at the same time he is."</p>

+

+<p>"Now, mother, you're so mistaken. He

+wouldn't even miss me. When he gets the view

+from our porch he won't know whether I'm

+there or not."</p>

+

+<p>"Very convenient excuse; but you needn't

+make any more of them. I understand you,

+Kathleen. Why shouldn't I, when I taught

+you to walk? I'm foolish to break down before

+you. I ought to have more pride; but it's the

+heat. I'm tired and nervous; and you come

+home from college with no interest except in

+what you've left behind you, and want to

+arrange things so that my guest at the island

+will have his visit spoiled&mdash;"</p>

+

+<p>"Mother, he&mdash;"</p>

+

+<p>"Nobody at the cottage but me, and nobody<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_283" id="Page_283">[283]</a></span>

+to help entertain him but Mrs. Wright and

+Eliza Brewster and&mdash;"</p>

+

+<p>"Mother, he&mdash;"</p>

+

+<p>"It's so often that I ask any of my friends

+there! So often that I bore you and Edgar to

+look out for my guests! I must always be on

+hand for yours, to chaperone you and see that

+all goes smoothly for your plans. I suppose&mdash;"</p>

+

+<p>"Mother, indeed&mdash;"</p>

+

+<p>"If Phil had sunstroke, it would be all the

+same to you, just so he kept out of your way;

+and Christmas week when we went there to tea,

+how nice he was to us, and so amusing, getting

+everything in such perfect order that he apologized

+for not dusting the marshmallows. Oh,

+my head is just bursting!"</p>

+

+<p>"There, mother dear, I know you will be ill,

+if you get so excited," said Kathleen, patting

+the heaving white silken shoulder. "Of course,

+I'll go to the island with you. I didn't know

+you cared so much."</p>

+

+<p>Mrs. Fabian lifted her swollen eyes to behold

+her victory. "There's one comfort, Kathleen,"

+she said, deep catches in her breath. "You

+never do things by halves. If you do go, you'll

+never allow Phil to feel that he bores you."</p>

+

+<p>The girl smiled. "No, if I succeed in calling<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_284" id="Page_284">[284]</a></span>

+myself to his attention," she answered, "I

+promise he shan't suspect it."</p>

+

+<p>"If he is sometimes absent-minded," said

+Mrs. Fabian defensively, "I'm sure I don't

+know any one who should have so much sympathy

+with him as you&mdash;the very queen of

+wool-gatherers."</p>

+

+<p>Kathleen laughed and went back to her seat

+at the table. "I see that I must reform," she

+replied.</p>

+

+<p>"I'm relieved, and I do thank you," said her

+mother; "but the question remains, how are

+we going to get Phil there?"</p>

+

+<p>"That's easy. Send Molly with the other

+maids by the boat. I'll hook your gown."</p>

+

+<p>"There," returned Mrs. Fabian; "you see,

+you might have suggested that in the first

+place. I understand you well enough, Kathleen."</p>

+

+<p>"I thought it would be good fun to hob-nob

+with father. It's so long since I have."</p>

+

+<p>"I'm going to persuade him to leave business

+early this year. It has worried him unusually

+this winter. He can if he only thinks so. I

+reminded him this morning that if he died, the

+business would have to get on without him.

+He agreed, but said in that case the loss would<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_285" id="Page_285">[285]</a></span>

+be wholly covered by insurance. Rather grim

+sort of humor, that. I told him I couldn't see

+anything funny in such talk."</p>

+

+<p>"Poor father," commented Kathleen.

+"Everybody is tired this time of year. There

+should be some arrangement of relays in running

+a business. The winter workers should be

+turned out to grass in May."</p>

+

+<p>She looked at her father that evening with

+observant eyes, as together they moved into

+his den after dinner. It had been closed from

+the sun all day and he sank into a big leather

+armchair by a breeze-blown window, following

+his daughter's white-clad figure with appreciative

+eyes.</p>

+

+<p>"I'm glad you're through college, Kath,"

+he said.</p>

+

+<p>"So I can light your cigar the rest of my

+life?" she asked, seating herself on his knee and

+applying the lighted match.</p>

+

+<p>"Partly that," he answered, drawing in the

+flame, "and partly for your mother's sake.

+She needs more companionship than I can give

+her. She has a gay nature; she likes going out.

+I hope you aren't too much like me."</p>

+

+<p>"I hope I'm exactly like you," the girl returned

+devoutly; and leaning forward, she drew<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_286" id="Page_286">[286]</a></span>

+in a mouthful of the fragrant cigar smoke and

+exhaled it through her nostrils. The movement

+was quick and graceful, and she looked mischievously

+pretty.</p>

+

+<p>"Don't do that, you monkey," said her

+father quickly.</p>

+

+<p>"Why not?"</p>

+

+<p>"I don't like it."</p>

+

+<p>"I'm frightfully unfashionable, because I

+smoke so little," she returned.</p>

+

+<p>"It's a vicious habit&mdash;for women," declared

+Mr. Fabian.</p>

+

+<p>"But I'm a suffragist; besides, men tolerate

+it in women now&mdash;they like them to do

+it."</p>

+

+<p>"Not the women they love," said Mr.

+Fabian quickly.</p>

+

+<p>"Oh!" responded Kathleen.</p>

+

+<p>"When I saw you smoking a cigarette with

+Edgar a little while ago," he went on, "I spoke

+to you about it. Don't you remember? I told

+you how unbecoming I thought it. I hoped you

+would heed me."</p>

+

+<p>Kathleen met his serious gaze.</p>

+

+<p>"That wasn't a little while ago," she said.</p>

+

+<p>"Certainly it was. This winter."</p>

+

+<p>"It couldn't have been later than Novem<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_287" id="Page_287">[287]</a></span>ber,"

+she went on slowly, "for I haven't

+touched a cigarette since then."</p>

+

+<p>"Good girl." Mr. Fabian patted her shoulder.

+"It disgusted me to see you. You'll never

+do it again?"</p>

+

+<p>"No." She shook her head, and carefully

+ran her finger through a ring of smoke as it

+passed her.</p>

+

+<p>"I wish I could get Edgar to say the same,"

+remarked Mr. Fabian.</p>

+

+<p>"You don't set him a good example," she

+returned.</p>

+

+<p>"You never saw me with a cigarette. Edgar

+has to abstain from them in the office, but I

+think he sits up all night to make up for it. I

+have an idea they contribute to his general

+uselessness."</p>

+

+<p>Kathleen smoothed the care-worn lines in the

+speaker's brow with her gentle fingers. He

+loved their touch.</p>

+

+<p>"I think Edgar isn't smoking much these

+days," she said.</p>

+

+<p>"Indeed." The response was indifferent.

+"Why should that be? Does Mrs. Larrabee

+want them all?"</p>

+

+<p>"It's on account of his voice," said Kathleen.</p>

+

+<p>The tired man of affairs removed his cigar to<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_288" id="Page_288">[288]</a></span>

+laugh while his daughter arranged his hair

+around his temples. "Edgar denying himself!"

+he ejaculated quietly.</p>

+

+<p>"Yes, father, he's waking up to it," said the

+girl, with a little serious nod; "and that's one

+thing Mrs. Larrabee has really done for him&mdash;made

+him believe that his voice is worth working

+for."</p>

+

+<p>"It's the only thing she can find to flatter

+him about. That's all that amounts to," said

+Mr. Fabian, resuming his cigar. "So long as

+she can make any use of him she will keep him

+dangling about, and flattery is the best bait."</p>

+

+<p>"But his voice is a real gift," insisted Kathleen,

+with deliberate emphasis. "Don't you

+think so?"</p>

+

+<p>"I never heard him sing that I know of&mdash;certainly

+not for years."</p>

+

+<p>"It is beautiful&mdash;the heart-reaching kind.

+If he hadn't been a rich man's son it would

+have been given to the world in some shape."</p>

+

+<p>"A rich man's son." Mr. Fabian repeated

+the words quietly, and took his daughter's arm

+in a strong grasp. "Kathleen, this has been an

+awful winter. I don't know what the next year

+will bring forth. Say nothing to your mother,

+but there are threatening clouds all about me."</p>

+

+<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_289" id="Page_289">[289]</a></span></p>

+

+<p>"Father!" The girl pressed her cheek to his,

+and there was a moment of silence; then she

+spoke again gently. "I have often wished I

+might have been your son."</p>

+

+<p>The hand that had gripped her arm, stole

+around her and drew her close.</p>

+

+<p>After a moment, she sat up again and faced

+him. "I came in here to-night on purpose to

+speak to you about Edgar," she went on. "He

+wanted me to intercede for him in a matter."</p>

+

+<p>"A matter of debts, I suppose," said Mr.

+Fabian, his manner imperturbable again, and

+his tone bitter.</p>

+

+<p>"Yes, but&mdash;"</p>

+

+<p>"I'm through," interrupted the man. "He

+has had plenty of warning. I would not tell

+you, Kathleen, the number of foolish, and

+sometimes disgraceful, affairs I have settled

+for him."</p>

+

+<p>"I don't doubt it, dear, but let me tell you

+about this," said the girl seriously. "Edgar

+has no judgment or foresight. He persists in

+claiming that he was born with a golden spoon

+in his mouth and that whatever he can scoop

+up with it is his right. He is your only son and

+you owe him unlimited liberty."</p>

+

+<p>"The lessons I have given him would be<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_290" id="Page_290">[290]</a></span>

+sufficient if he had any brains," said the father

+sternly.</p>

+

+<p>"Yes; but just a minute more. This debt

+will astonish you. It is to Mazzini, the famous

+voice teacher. He has been studying with him

+since January."</p>

+

+<p>"Just like his vanity! Let him send the bill

+to Mrs. Larrabee. It is her doing."</p>

+

+<p>"Yes, it was her doing in the first place, but

+I suspect from what Edgar says that she is

+tired of him. He hasn't seen her often of late,

+and she sails for Europe anyway next week;

+and Edgar is so interested in his music that now

+it comes first. His teacher is so enthusiastic!"</p>

+

+<p>"Of course he is!" observed Mr. Fabian

+cynically. "They're always enthusiastic over

+the voices of pupils whose pocketbooks will

+stand the strain."</p>

+

+<p>"Edgar sang for me last night while you and

+mother were out. Father, it was a beautiful

+performance. It is the real thing. Of course,

+he was wrong&mdash;crazy, to go into such expense

+without asking you, for the lessons are frightfully

+dear; but if the boy were to amount to

+something in an artistic line, wouldn't it be

+worth the investment? You are discouraged

+by his lack of interest in business."</p>

+

+<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_291" id="Page_291">[291]</a></span></p>

+

+<p>Mr. Fabian's chin sank dejectedly as he

+flicked the ash from his cigar into the receiver

+on the stand beside his chair.</p>

+

+<p>"Discouraged by his inability," he said

+slowly; "discouraged by his lack of principle,

+by his vanity and conceit. I will give him board

+and lodging as long as he wishes to live with

+me; but&mdash;"</p>

+

+<p>"Then, dear," interrupted Kathleen, her

+voice thrilling with the sympathy she felt, "try

+this one thing more. If the expense doesn't

+appall you&mdash;"</p>

+

+<p>Mr. Fabian shook his head impatiently.

+"That would be nothing&mdash;as yet."</p>

+

+<p>"Edgar can't study through the summer.

+His teacher is going to Italy. He would like to

+go with him&mdash;" the girl paused doubtfully.</p>

+

+<p>Her father laughed. "I dare say. Edgar's

+European travel, however, is over until he is

+engaged to sing before the crowned heads."</p>

+

+<p>"Yes, I supposed so," agreed the girl; "but

+he means to work faithfully all summer."</p>

+

+<p>"Work faithfully! Edgar!" repeated Mr.

+Fabian.</p>

+

+<p>"Supposing he should, father. Supposing he

+has found his niche in life and will do something

+worth while."</p>

+

+<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_292" id="Page_292">[292]</a></span></p>

+

+<p>"Wonderful if true," remarked Mr. Fabian.</p>

+

+<p>"But it won't help to disbelieve in him. I

+know he began all wrong forcing you to pay

+this money&mdash;"</p>

+

+<p>Kathleen arose suddenly, and, moving across

+the room, opened the heavy door of the den.

+"Come in, Edgar," she called. The invitation

+was unnecessary; for the youth, in his eagerness

+to hear what fate was being meted out to him

+within the closed apartment, had been leaning

+so hard against the door that when all at once

+it fell away from him, he staggered into the

+room with the most undignified celerity.</p>

+

+<p>Stirred as Kathleen was, she had to bite

+her lip before she could speak; but when

+her brother had gained his perpendicular

+and faced them with a somewhat frightened

+and very crimson countenance, she broke the

+silence.</p>

+

+<p>"Tell father," she said, "that you know you

+began this new venture wrong: that it was

+shameful to force him to pay this big bill for

+your lessons."</p>

+

+<p>Edgar choked and swallowed, meeting the

+eyes that were lifting to him from the depths

+of the leathern armchair. Convicted of eavesdropping

+and reading the cold appraisement in<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_293" id="Page_293">[293]</a></span>

+his father's gaze, he had not gathered himself

+to utter a word when Mr. Fabian spoke.</p>

+

+<p>"You have not forced me," he said slowly.

+"I can refuse. You are of age. You can be

+sued and imprisoned quite independently of

+me."</p>

+

+<p>Edgar's heart beat fast and he set the even

+teeth.</p>

+

+<p>"You have counted once more on my unwillingness

+to have this occur; but that unwillingness

+has been weakening for years."</p>

+

+<p>Still Edgar did not speak. Kathleen, standing

+by her father's chair, her hands clasped

+tightly, dared not. She noted that Edgar's gaze

+did not fall. He met his father's eyes in crimson

+silence.</p>

+

+<p>"You know," continued Mr. Fabian distinctly,

+"whether I have exhausted persuasion

+and argument with you. You know my futile

+attempts to rouse your ambition to be my

+coadjutor, my successor. What you do not

+know, because you are incapable of understanding,

+is the agony of the slow death of my

+hope in my only son: the successive stages of

+thought which have finally reduced me to

+closing the account, and charging him up to

+profit and loss."</p>

+

+<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_294" id="Page_294">[294]</a></span></p>

+

+<p>Kathleen watched her brother under the

+lash with the same pitiful misery she felt for his

+punishments when they were children.</p>

+

+<p>"But you're going to try him in this new

+field, father," she said beseechingly.</p>

+

+<p>There was a space of silence, then Mr. Fabian

+spoke:&mdash;</p>

+

+<p>"I am going to trust your sister's judgment

+in this matter, Edgar. She believes you are in

+earnest. I am going to pay these tuition bills,

+and the coming months will show whether this

+is another passing toy, or a matter in which you

+can make good. To find you are good for anything,

+my boy," added the father, after another

+painful pause, "will be an amazing and welcome

+discovery."</p>

+

+<p>Something clicked in Edgar's throat. He

+evidently wished to speak, but his tongue

+seemed glued to the roof of his mouth. At last

+he found voice.</p>

+

+<p>"I don't blame you," he said jerkily, "but&mdash;I'll

+show you!"</p>

+

+<p>Mr. Fabian nodded his head slightly. "That's

+what I want," he said quietly; "I need to be

+shown."</p>

+

+<p>Without another word, Edgar turned on his

+heel and left the room.</p>

+

+<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_295" id="Page_295">[295]</a></span></p>

+

+<p>Kathleen sank on her knees and buried her

+face on her father's breast.</p>

+

+<p>"He didn't thank you," she said, half

+weeping, "but he felt it. I know he felt it. Oh,

+father, how I hope for your sake&mdash;"</p>

+

+<p>She could not speak further, and Mr. Fabian

+patted her shoulder, his eyes gazing out the

+darkening window.</p>

+

+<hr class="chap" />

+

+<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_296" id="Page_296">[296]</a></span></p>

+

+

+

+

+<div class="chapter">

+<h2>CHAPTER XVII</h2>

+</div>

+

+<p class="ph3">MRS. FABIAN'S SCHEME</p>

+

+

+<p>Mrs. Fabian chanced to meet Edgar as he was

+leaving the house immediately after this interview.

+She had heard the closing of the library

+door, and the expression of her son's excited

+face, as he strode by her, was such that she let

+him go in silence.</p>

+

+<p>She knew Kathleen was with her father, and

+she was only too willing to use the girl as a buffer

+when Edgar was the subject of conversation.</p>

+

+<p>She moved about restlessly until she heard

+Kathleen leave the den and close the door softly

+behind her. Then she waylaid her daughter at

+the foot of the staircase. By the soft light of

+the electric lantern, she could see that the girl's

+eyes were red.</p>

+

+<p>"Come right up to my room," she whispered,

+excitedly, as if the very walls had ears. "I just

+met Edgar."</p>

+

+<p>They ascended in silence and Mrs. Fabian led

+the way into her boudoir, started an electric

+fan, and turned on the light.</p>

+

+<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_297" id="Page_297">[297]</a></span></p>

+

+<p>"Has his father cut him off?" she asked, facing

+Kathleen, her gaze wide with dread.</p>

+

+<p>"No, oh, no." The girl sank into a chair.

+"It was awful, but I hope it is the beginning of

+better things. Did you know that Edgar had

+begun to work with his voice?"</p>

+

+<p>"No! I've noticed that he has been making

+the most awful noises in his room lately."</p>

+

+<p>"Well, the talk grew out of that and the new

+debts he has contracted."</p>

+

+<p>"Edgar can't turn around without getting

+into debt!" ejaculated his mother desperately.</p>

+

+<p>Kathleen told her then what had occurred

+and she listened attentively.</p>

+

+<p>"Do you suppose it will amount to anything?"

+she asked at last.</p>

+

+<p>Kathleen shook her head vaguely. "I don't

+know enough about the opportunities," she

+replied, "and I know too much about Edgar.

+If he is only going to use an accomplishment to

+stand in a more brilliant limelight with those

+whose admiration he wants&mdash;" she shook her

+head again.</p>

+

+<p>Mrs. Fabian looked thoughtful. "I never

+saw such a look in his face as he had just

+now."</p>

+

+<p>"Father's words stung him, I know. He<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_298" id="Page_298">[298]</a></span>

+even said, 'I don't blame you.' Perhaps he will

+begin now to be a man."</p>

+

+<p>"I thought he might be going forever. I

+didn't dare to speak to him."</p>

+

+<p>Kathleen gave a disclaiming exclamation.

+"He couldn't do that. He is more helpless

+than a little new-fledged chicken."</p>

+

+<p>"I don't know," returned Mrs. Fabian sapiently.

+"Take a weak, good-looking fellow like

+Edgar, with a lovely voice, and if he became

+reckless there are plenty of sporty cafés in this

+town where they would pay him as an attraction.

+He knows that."</p>

+

+<p>"Mother!" exclaimed Kathleen, aghast.</p>

+

+<p>"Why, certainly!" averred Mrs. Fabian dismally

+elated at the dismay she had evoked.

+"There are a few things I know more about

+than you do, Kathleen. Imagine a handsome

+young fellow in correct evening clothes, when

+the patrons are hilarious at midnight, rising in

+his place, and, wineglass in hand, suddenly

+singing a love-song or ragtime. Do you think

+he would get a few encores? Do you think he

+could get paid to come again?" Mrs. Fabian

+had heard a description of lurid New Year's

+Eve revels and she built a shrewd surmise

+upon it.</p>

+

+<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_299" id="Page_299">[299]</a></span></p>

+

+<p>Kathleen was so worked upon by the picture

+that she rose restlessly, and moving to the window

+gazed into the summer gloom as if searching

+for a glimpse of her brother's well-carried,

+polished blond head.</p>

+

+<p>Mrs. Fabian bridled with dignified importance

+as she watched her; but her complacency

+was short-lived.</p>

+

+<p>Kathleen suddenly faced about. "Then

+how," she asked, "can you wish me to leave for

+the island at such a time?"</p>

+

+<p>"Oh, are you going back to that again!"</p>

+

+<p>"With father and Edgar in this sensitive state

+toward each other&mdash;to leave them to meet

+alone in this great house, with no one to soften

+the embarrassment. Would it be any wonder if

+Edgar fled to just such scenes as you describe?

+And wouldn't it be decidedly our fault?"</p>

+

+<p>Mrs. Fabian leaned forward in her armchair.</p>

+

+<p>"You couldn't do any permanent good,"

+she said earnestly. "Edgar must really act

+alone, whether you are here or not. He hasn't

+done any of his practising here anyway, except

+those uncanny noises in his room."</p>

+

+<p>"No. There is some piano house where he

+has been able to use a room at noon; but his

+teacher sails this week and he cannot get the<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_300" id="Page_300">[300]</a></span>

+room any more. He would naturally do a lot of

+work at home after you were gone, if he felt

+at ease; and if I were here, it would help a great

+deal."</p>

+

+<p>Mrs. Fabian felt baffled. The truth of Kathleen's

+proposition was unanswerable; and to

+urge any claim above Edgar's good at this

+crucial time would be, she knew, inexcusable

+in his sister's eyes.</p>

+

+<p>The girl, burdened with the double responsibility

+of her father's confidence, and Edgar's

+future, turned again to the window and gazed

+out into the darkness, while Mrs. Fabian, leaning

+back in the breeze from the electric fan,

+put on her thinking-cap. It seemed hard that

+her wayward boy, if he had started on a worthy

+road, should manage at his very first step to

+get in her way.</p>

+

+<p>Her will was strong and shrewd. When later

+that night she was alone with her husband, she

+opened the subject.</p>

+

+<p>"Kathleen tells me Edgar has taken up serious

+work with his voice."</p>

+

+<p>"Kathleen is optimistic," was the laconic

+reply.</p>

+

+<p>"I think, Henry, we ought to meet him half-way

+in any honourable undertaking."</p>

+

+<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_301" id="Page_301">[301]</a></span></p>

+

+<p>Mr. Fabian made an inarticulate exclamation.

+He was thinking of the bill Kathleen had

+placed in his hands before she left him to-night.</p>

+

+<p>"I can't think," proceeded Mrs. Fabian,

+"that anything but a high sense of duty would

+induce anybody to make the blood-curdling

+noises that I've heard lately from Edgar's

+room."</p>

+

+<p>A short silence; then Mrs. Fabian spoke

+again. "It seems he cannot go any longer to

+the place where he has done his practising. I'm

+afraid if he should work evenings here, it might

+annoy you, Henry."</p>

+

+<p>"I dare say it might," agreed the weary man,

+with an involuntary sigh.</p>

+

+<p>"I was thinking that if he is not very busy

+at the office&mdash;"</p>

+

+<p>"Very busy!" The father threw back his

+head.</p>

+

+<p>"You might give him a longer vacation"&mdash;</p>

+

+<p>"Edgar's whole life is a vacation," said Mr.

+Fabian.</p>

+

+<p>"And let him go with us to the island. If he

+is really going to make music his lifework he

+could practise regularly there and be away

+from temptations, and&mdash;"</p>

+

+<p>Mr. Fabian slowly faced his wife with such<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_302" id="Page_302">[302]</a></span>

+attention that she paused hopefully, then went

+on:&mdash;</p>

+

+<p>"You know Philip Sidney is going with me, and

+his companionship would be so good for Edgar."</p>

+

+<p>"It's a bright thought, my dear," said Mr.

+Fabian. "The office will be able to struggle

+along without Edgar, and then we can close the

+house and I can live at the club."</p>

+

+<p>"Not too long," said his wife, so pleased at

+her sudden success that she put her arms around

+his neck and kissed him. "Not too long, Henry.

+You must take a long vacation this year."</p>

+

+<p>He returned her caress. "One day at a time,"

+he said briefly.</p>

+

+<p>Mrs. Fabian sought her pillow, well-pleased;

+and contrary to her habit, she was up betimes

+next morning, and hastened to her son's room

+before he came down to breakfast.</p>

+

+<p>"Can I come in?" she asked, knocking.</p>

+

+<p>Edgar was in his shirt-sleeves adjusting his

+tie; and when he opened the door and saw his

+mother, he gave an exclamation.</p>

+

+<p>"What's the matter?" he asked. "Too hot

+to sleep?"</p>

+

+<p>A cloudless sun was promising another day

+with a soaring thermometer.</p>

+

+<p>Mrs. Fabian noted the hard questioning in<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_303" id="Page_303">[303]</a></span>

+her boy's eyes. She knew he considered her his

+father's aid in denying him the right to spend

+as a millionaire's son should&mdash;knew that his

+attitude toward her had long been defensive;

+and that her unusual visit to his room roused

+only his suspicion of something disagreeable.</p>

+

+<p>"Do you mind if I come in, dear?" she asked,

+her soft silks trailing noiselessly as she moved

+across the room. "I am so interested in what

+I hear about your music."</p>

+

+<p>Edgar was silent, continuing to busy himself

+with his tie. He knew his stepmother too well

+to believe that she had risen with the lark to

+felicitate him on his last venture. He took up

+the ivory military brushes she had given him

+and began to use them vigorously. He was still

+smarting from the scene of the night before

+and he braced himself for a homily on the subject

+of his music bill.</p>

+

+<p>"I've never believed in thwarting a child's

+bent," said Mrs. Fabian, flicking the ashes from

+a chair to make it fit to sit upon. "I said to

+Philip Sidney's mother, 'let him paint.' I said

+to your father last night when I heard all this,

+'let Edgar sing.'"</p>

+

+<p>Mrs. Fabian paused to allow her breadth of

+view to sink in. Edgar glanced around at her<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_304" id="Page_304">[304]</a></span>

+sulkily, from his mirror, and then looked back

+again.</p>

+

+<p>"Now, you have no taste for commercial life,

+dear, why waste more time in it at present until

+you see what the artistic line holds for you?"</p>

+

+<p>Edgar glanced back at the speaker again

+quickly. What was the "nigger in the fence"?

+Her face looked innocently out at him from a

+becoming boudoir cap.</p>

+

+<p>"And I suggested to your father that he let

+your vacation start earlier and that you come

+with us to the island next Wednesday. You are

+going to work for a time anyway without your

+teacher, and this hot atmosphere must be so

+relaxing to the throat. There it is pure and

+bracing and you can lay out your course of

+study and be undisturbed."</p>

+

+<p>Edgar regarded the speaker with some interest

+now, but still questioning.</p>

+

+<p>"Father thinks, then, we could close the

+house and he would live at the club."</p>

+

+<p>Edgar tossed his head, raised his eyebrows,

+and proceeded to put on his coat.</p>

+

+<p>"You want to close the house. That's it,"

+he said.</p>

+

+<p>"Don't you think it would be a good plan?"

+asked Mrs. Fabian ingratiatingly.</p>

+

+<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_305" id="Page_305">[305]</a></span></p>

+

+<p>All Edgar's cynicism was not proof against

+allowing some satisfaction to appear in the

+prospect of leaving the office routine and pursuing

+the line of work which had genuinely

+captured his interest.</p>

+

+<p>"Yes, I don't mind," he answered. "Kath

+going with you?"</p>

+

+<p>"Yes, and Philip Sidney,&mdash;just for a short

+visit."</p>

+

+<p>Edgar shrugged his shoulders.</p>

+

+<p>"You can imagine the heat of that stable

+room," suggested Mrs. Fabian.</p>

+

+<p>"Tophet, I suppose," agreed Edgar. "All

+right. I'll go." The even teeth had been set

+many times since last evening in the prospect

+of a <i lang="fr" xml:lang="fr">tête-à-tête</i> existence with his father.</p>

+

+<p>"I wish we might go on all together, but, of

+course, not knowing, I didn't engage a berth

+for you."</p>

+

+<p>"I'll go on the day train," responded

+Edgar; adding with his customary grace, "I

+never was keen for travelling in caravans anyway."</p>

+

+<p>Mrs. Fabian was not critical of his rudeness.

+She was too pleased at having gained her end,

+and soon floated away to Kathleen's room, her

+next strategic point.</p>

+

+<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_306" id="Page_306">[306]</a></span></p>

+

+<p>She found her daughter propped up in bed

+with coffee and toast on a table before her.</p>

+

+<p>"Good morning, mother, you put me to

+shame," said the girl. "Didn't you sleep

+either? This is early for you."</p>

+

+<p>"Poor child," said Mrs. Fabian, seating herself

+on the foot of the bed and observing the

+rings around the other's eyes. "Yes, I slept

+pretty well, but not until after your father and

+I had had a long talk."</p>

+

+<p>Kathleen scrutinized her mother's complacent

+countenance and made up her mind that

+the talk could not have concerned business.</p>

+

+<p>"I told him how sure I felt that Edgar was in

+earnest now, and we both concluded it was time

+wasted to try any longer to fit a square peg

+into a round hole, so your father is going to let

+the boy go to the island at once with us and

+work at his voice there, away from temptations."</p>

+

+<p>"Oh, how fine!" breathed Kathleen. "Then,"

+she added aloud, "he will entertain Mr. Sidney

+in my place, and I can stay with father."</p>

+

+<p>"That's an absurd idea and you know it.

+Philip and Edgar would get along like two

+tigers. You can see that I need you more than

+ever to reconcile them."</p>

+

+<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_307" id="Page_307">[307]</a></span></p>

+

+<p>Kathleen's face did not look encouraging.

+She longed to tell her mother of her father's

+straits, but her lips were sealed.</p>

+

+<p>"Besides," added Mrs. Fabian, with the

+conscious power of one who plays the last

+trump, "one reason your father wishes to dispense

+with Edgar is that he wants to close the

+house and live at the club."</p>

+

+<p>Kathleen's face fell and her eyes looked away.</p>

+

+<p>"You see he'll come to us all the sooner,

+dear," said her mother. "Men talk about enjoying

+living at the club, but when they are

+happy family men they tire of it very soon."</p>

+

+<p>The girl smiled faintly. "We have been

+something of a 'happy family' lately," she said;

+"but if Edgar really turns over a new leaf&mdash;"</p>

+

+<p>"Oh, he has!" declared Mrs. Fabian. "I'm

+glad to remember that the outdoors is large at

+Brewster's. I suspect he will nearly drive us

+crazy, but one must exercise some self-sacrifice

+in this world." She rose. "Take another nap if

+you can, Kathleen. I'm thankful the island is

+so near for you. You're completely tired out."</p>

+

+<p>But Kathleen did not take another nap. She

+dressed very soon, and, pleading a desire for

+fresh air, left the house. She did not ask for the

+machine lest her mother should offer to accom<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_308" id="Page_308">[308]</a></span>pany

+her, but descended in all her dainty whiteness

+into the subway and started for Wall

+Street. Arrived at the labyrinth of offices

+where daily Mr. Fabian struggled and Edgar

+endured, she dreaded meeting her brother, but

+she saw nothing of him, and waited in an ante-room,

+looking about her with a swelling heart.

+How little part she and her mother had ever

+had in the heavy responsibilities of her father's

+life. She doubted if her mother came here twice

+a year, and when she did it was simply to obtain

+money.</p>

+

+<p>She had not long to wait, for Mr. Fabian

+himself opened the door of his private office,

+and the clerk passing out saw him stoop and

+kiss the girl in the large hat strewn with lilacs.</p>

+

+<p>"What brings you, my dear?" he asked, his

+brows knitting anxiously. She smiled and

+clung to his hand as they moved inside.

+"You're pale, Kathleen. Off to the island with

+you, child. Off to the island."</p>

+

+<p>"That's just what I came about," she answered,

+taking the chair he set for her, and the

+electric fan whirring above her head carried the

+scent of orris to her father. "I would so much

+rather stay with you. I came to urge you to let

+me."</p>

+

+<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_309" id="Page_309">[309]</a></span></p>

+

+<p>He regarded her with eyes full of affection

+and gave a short laugh.</p>

+

+<p>"I frightened you last night," he said. "Perhaps

+I did wrong."</p>

+

+<p>"No, no, you didn't. Mother told me the

+plan to let Edgar go. That is right. Edgar

+can't be a comfort to you; but I can, father.

+Don't shut up the house. Let me stay with you

+till you are ready to go."</p>

+

+<p>Mr. Fabian nodded, his eyes fixed upon the

+sensitive face with its beseeching eyes.</p>

+

+<p>"You're a good girl, Kathleen. You are a

+comfort to me, whether we're together or not;

+and just now it will be an advantage to me to

+live close to my associates at the club. Go without

+anxiety, child. I promise to keep you advised

+of everything important."</p>

+

+<p>The troubled eyes did not leave his face.</p>

+

+<p>"Don't exaggerate what I said last night. I

+am not going to make any spectacular failure,

+but I have my own ideas of equity and I'm not

+going to wriggle out on a technicality. My

+course may lose me friends as well as money;

+but I've got to live with myself, and there are

+some memories I don't propose to entertain.

+Your mother has always been moderate in her

+demands, she has never shared the insane ambi<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_310" id="Page_310">[310]</a></span>tions

+of some of her acquaintances; but her

+toys are very dear to her and I hate to curtail

+them. It looks as if I might have to."</p>

+

+<p>"It might be the making of Edgar," said

+Kathleen.</p>

+

+<p>Her father regarded her in silent admiration.

+It was evident that her own part in the loss had

+not occurred to her.</p>

+

+<p>"Your mother's unselfishness in keeping the

+island summer home, because I like its simplicity,

+makes this season's problem easy. By

+autumn I shall know the worst."</p>

+

+<p>"How I would like to stay with you right

+along until everything is settled," said Kathleen

+fervently. "I want to be sure that you

+know how happy I should be in it. I keep so

+busy with my slides and microscope, and then&mdash;there's

+something else I do." Kathleen

+colored consciously. "I meant not to tell any

+one yet, but,&mdash;I write a little!"</p>

+

+<p>"Stories, you mean?"</p>

+

+<p>The girl nodded. "It is nothing, it may never

+amount to anything; but the microscope suggested

+it to me. There is such a great world

+that we never enter or think about. So you can

+see how happy I should be in our big, cool house,

+and not a bit lonely,&mdash;if you'll only have me."</p>

+

+<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_311" id="Page_311">[311]</a></span></p>

+

+<p>"I believe you, Kathleen, but it wouldn't

+work, dear. I could be at home so little, and

+I'd like to cut off the expense of the house."</p>

+

+<p>"Oh, oh! Is it so bad as that?"</p>

+

+<p>"No, not nearly so bad; but in time of peace,

+prepare for war."</p>

+

+<p>"Then mother had better not take her usual

+weeks at a resort."</p>

+

+<p>Mr. Fabian raised his eyebrows. "How else

+is the dear lady to exhibit her summer toilets?

+The fish at the island are so unappreciative."</p>

+

+<p>"Don't keep things from mother," pleaded

+Kathleen.</p>

+

+<p>"I promise not to when there is anything to

+tell. I was weak enough to think out loud with

+you. Now, run along, my child."</p>

+

+<p>"Oh, father, always be weak enough to think

+out loud with me. Will you?" He had risen

+and she did so reluctantly.</p>

+

+<p>He crushed her trim whiteness in his arms,

+and kissed her. "Don't make me sorry, then.

+Don't cross any bridge until you come to it.

+Promise."</p>

+

+<p>She smiled up at him bravely. "I promise,"

+she said, and left the office with a wistful backward

+look at him standing there, his eyes following

+her.</p>

+

+<hr class="chap" />

+

+<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_312" id="Page_312">[312]</a></span></p>

+

+

+

+

+<div class="chapter">

+<h2>CHAPTER XVIII</h2>

+</div>

+

+<p class="ph3">CASCO BAY</p>

+

+

+<p>Pat's benevolent heart swelled with satisfaction

+when, a few evenings later, Philip ran down

+the stable stairs, his packed suitcase in hand.</p>

+

+<p>"Wish you were going along," said the artist,

+meeting the Irishman's approving gaze.</p>

+

+<p>"I will as soon as ye need a valet," was the

+reply. "Ye think I can't put on style!" Pat

+winked and shook his head knowingly. "Ye'd

+burst wid pride if ye saw me fixed up and waitin'

+on ye."</p>

+

+<p>"I haven't a doubt of it. Well, so long. It

+will be only a few nights before I shall be back,

+sizzling with you again." And Phil gave the

+man a smiling nod and went out of the door,

+almost running into the arms of Mrs. Fabian,

+who, in the trimmest of cool grey travelling

+gowns, was looking askance at a spring and

+mattress outside the barn door.</p>

+

+<p>Pat aghast, hastened to button the open throat

+of his shirt. "The Queen o' Sheby," he muttered.</p>

+

+<p>"Why, did I keep you waiting, Aunt Isabel?"<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_313" id="Page_313">[313]</a></span>

+asked Phil, with contrition. "I was planning to

+be out in front in plenty of time."</p>

+

+<p>"Yes, it is early, but I wanted to speak to

+your man a minute."</p>

+

+<p>Pat bowed in the direction of the voluminous

+grey chiffon veil. "You may go out and join

+Kathleen," Mrs. Fabian added.</p>

+

+<p>"Dear me, nothing private, I hope," said

+Phil, vastly amused by the conflicting emotions

+on the Irishman's face.</p>

+

+<p>"Have you seen to putting your evening

+clothes away?" asked Mrs. Fabian.</p>

+

+<p>"Why&mdash;why, they're hanging up there in

+the closet."</p>

+

+<p>"Just what I expected. Run along, and I'll

+tell this good man what to do."</p>

+

+<p>Phil gave Pat one humorous glance and

+obeyed, passing out toward the street where he

+soon saw Kathleen in the waiting car, her hat

+tied down by a roseate veil.</p>

+

+<p>Mrs. Fabian at once accosted Pat. "Could

+you pack up Mr. Sidney's belongings and send

+them after him, if we ask you?"</p>

+

+<p>"I could, mum, but 'tis only a week he'll

+be away."</p>

+

+<p>"He wouldn't want his evening clothes. Do

+you know what a moth-bag is?"</p>

+

+<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_314" id="Page_314">[314]</a></span></p>

+

+<p>"I do not, thin."</p>

+

+<p>"Well, go to the store and ask, please. Brush

+Mr. Sidney's evening clothes thoroughly and

+put them in the bag, seal it up tight, and hang

+it in the closet. The careless boy. That's what

+comes of always having had a mother."</p>

+

+<p>"Lot's o' folks is jist that careless," remarked

+Pat. He was beginning to feel that even a

+queen, if she invaded his own vine and fig tree,

+might be a little less peremptory.</p>

+

+<p>"You may send everything else, except of

+course his winter overcoat. By the way, you

+may get another moth-bag for that, and treat

+it in the same manner."</p>

+

+<p>"He'll not be stayin', mum. He's all for

+work."</p>

+

+<p>"Has he been sleeping out here on these hot

+stones?" demanded Mrs. Fabian, with dilating

+nostrils, looking at the mattress.</p>

+

+<p>"No, mum, he usually took the bed," responded

+the Irishman.</p>

+

+<p>"Well, you've carried his upstairs, I see."</p>

+

+<p>"I'll have to break it to ye that he did it

+himself," said the man.</p>

+

+<p>Mrs. Fabian ignored his manner. Her thought

+was filled with Philip's situation.</p>

+

+<p>"Well, here," she said, with a preoccupied<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_315" id="Page_315">[315]</a></span>

+air, and, taking a bill from the fine-mesh purse

+which hung from her wrist, she held it out to

+the Irishman. "Take this and do what I've

+asked you. You needn't prepay the trunk if

+you send it. Keep the change, and I hope the

+heat here won't grow any worse. Good-bye."

+And Mrs. Fabian turned on her heel and the

+grey chiffon floated away up the alley.</p>

+

+<p>Pat looked at the five-dollar bill he held and

+tossed his head. "Who is that bye," he muttered,

+"and will he iver live in the stable ag'in?"</p>

+

+<p>Suddenly, bethinking himself that he might

+see the grand departure of his lodger, he hurried

+out to the street, and was in time to see Phil's

+straw hat loom amid a confusion of grey and

+rosy streaming veils.</p>

+

+<p>"Sure, 'tis only the rich enjoys this life," he

+thought good-naturedly, and unbuttoning his

+neckband again, he returned to his palm-leaf fan.</p>

+

+<p>As the motor flew breezily through the hot

+city streets, Philip gave himself up to the

+pleasure of his outing. Mrs. Fabian regarded

+him with supreme satisfaction, and Kathleen,

+though a little heartsore from parting with her

+father, dared not indulge in a pensive moment,

+knowing that her mother would pounce upon it

+alertly and later reproach her.</p>

+

+<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_316" id="Page_316">[316]</a></span></p>

+

+<p>They passed the evening in the stateroom of

+the flying train, and Mrs. Fabian narrated with

+much dignity the tale of Edgar's retirement

+from commercial life in favor of the arts. Philip

+pricked up his ears when he learned that the

+heir of the house was expected at the island at

+once.</p>

+

+<p>Kathleen was not obliged to talk much, and

+at last they all ceased fanning themselves and

+shouting remarks against the clatter of the open

+windows, and retired.</p>

+

+<p>After breakfast the following morning, as

+they entered a carriage to cross Portland,

+Kathleen nodded at Philip.</p>

+

+<p>"Say good-bye to heat," she remarked.</p>

+

+<p>"Hard to believe," returned the Westerner,

+who had tried to refrain from talking of his

+native mountains. His thoughts often travelled

+back even to the stable studio where certain

+work begun stood awaiting his return; but soon

+after they entered the boat for the island, he

+began to see Kathleen's words fulfilled. The

+ladies wrapped themselves in heavy coats and

+Mrs. Fabian begged Phil to put on his sweater;

+but he held his hat in his hand and declared his

+desire to be chilled to the bone.</p>

+

+<p>As they pulled out past the near islands into<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_317" id="Page_317">[317]</a></span>

+wide spaces of sea, interest slowly grew in Phil's

+eyes. His comments grew less frequent, and

+finally stopped. The islands rose tree-crowned

+from the water, casting deep green reflections

+at their feet. Phil took a notebook from his

+pocket, and occasionally asking the name of an

+island, he wrote it in the book. Kathleen,

+understanding his intent, and knowing that he

+would not fulfil it because of greater satisfaction

+further on, smiled at her mother.</p>

+

+<p>"What did I tell you?" she asked.</p>

+

+<p>"Well, what did you?"</p>

+

+<p>"That he wouldn't know whether I was here

+or not."</p>

+

+<p>"Sh&mdash;!"</p>

+

+<p>"He can't hear me any more than if he were

+anæsthetized."</p>

+

+<p>"Hush, Kathleen."</p>

+

+<p>"I'll prove it." She raised her voice. "Mr.

+Sidney!"</p>

+

+<p>Phil not only did not reply, but after a moment

+more he moved away to another and more

+unobstructed spot.</p>

+

+<p>Kathleen gave a low laugh and Mrs. Fabian

+looked pleased.</p>

+

+<p>"He is enjoying it, isn't he?" she returned.

+"This day is a wonderful bit of good fortune.<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_318" id="Page_318">[318]</a></span>

+First impressions are so important. What made

+you expect him to behave like this?"</p>

+

+<p>"I think I must have a groping, artistic sense

+myself. At any rate, I knew what Casco Bay

+must do to an artist when he comes upon it all

+unprepared."</p>

+

+<p>Mrs. Fabian sighed. "Well, I'm glad our

+coming here does somebody some good. Are

+you going on forever calling that boy 'Mr.'?

+Of course, he can't be informal with you unless

+you will be so with him."</p>

+

+<p>"Mother dear, I tell you it doesn't matter,"

+laughed the girl. "He has gone into a trance

+and he probably won't come out of it till the

+first fog. By that time, perhaps I shall feel

+entirely informal."</p>

+

+<p>Captain James stood on the pier when the

+boat approached Brewster's Island. Kathleen

+caught sight of him and waved her handkerchief.</p>

+

+<p>"Mother, it's time to go and make passes

+over Philip," she said. "He'll have to wake

+up."</p>

+

+<p>Mrs. Fabian went to the guest and touched

+him on the arm. For an hour and a half he had

+not addressed them.</p>

+

+<p>He started.</p>

+

+<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_319" id="Page_319">[319]</a></span></p>

+

+<p>"We're there, Phil," she said.</p>

+

+<p>He followed her, and glanced at Kathleen

+with a sensation of guilt. He seized the bags

+with an alacrity intended to offset his preoccupation.</p>

+

+<p>"It's a wonderful bay," he said.</p>

+

+<p>Kathleen was not regarding him. She was

+leaning over the rail, waving again toward a

+tall lean man on the wharf, who smiled,

+well-pleased, and jerked his head in her direction.</p>

+

+<p>Soon many passengers were streaming up the

+gangplank, and in a minute Kathleen was greeting

+the tall lean man with a gayety Phil had

+never before seen in her demeanor.</p>

+

+<p>Mrs. Fabian next shook hands with him, and

+introduced Phil, who, in the confusion and

+limitations of the commonplace wharf, had

+quite regained his normal alertness.</p>

+

+<p>"You gave us a very nice day, Cap'n James,"

+said Mrs. Fabian graciously. "Where's the

+carriage?"</p>

+

+<p>"Waitin'. Can't take you all, I'm afraid.

+Mrs. Frick from down-along engaged me

+ahead."</p>

+

+<p>"Ahead of us?" inquired Mrs. Fabian

+superbly.</p>

+

+<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_320" id="Page_320">[320]</a></span></p>

+

+<p>"Got one seat," said Captain James. He

+was accustomed to Mrs. Fabian's autocracy.</p>

+

+<p>"That's all we want," said Kathleen. "Mr.

+Sidney and I will walk up."</p>

+

+<p>So Mrs. Fabian and the bags were stowed in

+the carriage and the young people were started

+on their walk before Tom had turned heavily

+into the road.</p>

+

+<p>"What air!" exclaimed Phil, as they struck

+into the deep grass.</p>

+

+<p>"One can live on it," agreed the girl.</p>

+

+<p>"Don't expect me to; I feel wonderful pangs

+already. Gramercy Park had nearly cured me

+of eating."</p>

+

+<p>He smiled down at his companion in the roseate

+veil tied under her chin, and she glanced

+up at the city pallor of his face. "I should

+think it might," she agreed. "Wait a week.

+We shall both look like tomatoes and feel like

+disembodied spirits."</p>

+

+<p>"I'm afraid I behaved like the latter, coming

+down the bay; but really I forgot everything.

+I want to study the boat-tables and go back

+to some of those wonderful shores."</p>

+

+<p>Kathleen smiled demurely. "This doesn't

+cut much of a figure by contrast, does it?" she

+said.</p>

+

+<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_321" id="Page_321">[321]</a></span></p>

+

+<p>They were crossing diagonally through a

+green field which led gently up to the island

+road.</p>

+

+<p>"It's beautifully fresh here," replied Phil

+politely, looking about the bare treeless expanse

+rolling up to a bluff against illimitable

+sky.</p>

+

+<p>A village store upon the road, a little school-house

+and a cottage or two, were all that was

+to be seen.</p>

+

+<p>Above, on Mrs. Wright's doorstep, Eliza

+Brewster was standing, opera glass in hand,

+watching the tall figure and the rosy veil coming

+up through the field. She had restrained

+herself from running down to the road, for she

+dreaded Mrs. Fabian, and Phil for the moment

+had forgotten that Eliza might be in the neighborhood.

+His eyes brightened as they reached

+the road. He had been privately wondering

+why the Fabians had chosen this unpromising

+island as their abiding place. Now he caught

+sight of the spreading cove, its brilliant banks

+dark with evergreen trees, while in sheltered

+spots maples and birches stood amid a riot of

+shrubs inviting the birds.</p>

+

+<p>"That's a fine cove," he said, his eyes fixed

+on the far reaches of the sea.</p>

+

+<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_322" id="Page_322">[322]</a></span></p>

+

+<p>"So the yachtsmen think," returned Kathleen.</p>

+

+<p>"Let's look at it a minute," said Phil.</p>

+

+<p>The girl paused obediently and a smile

+touched the corners of her lips. Phil's impersonality

+with regard to herself was novel; for Kathleen

+had the intangible quality called charm to

+such a degree that nothing masculine had ever

+before been able to approach so near to her

+without striving to win her favor.</p>

+

+<p>From that first Sunday in the stable studio

+she had perceived that if she were going to see

+more of this new factor in the family circle she

+must do the striving if she were to become a

+factor to him. A dread that she might desire

+to do this had beset her ever since, and warned

+her away from him with a sense of self-preservation.</p>

+

+<p>He stood forgetful of her now, and narrowed

+his eyes to the picture.</p>

+

+<p>"Well, have you looked enough?" she asked.

+"How are the pangs?"</p>

+

+<p>"Yes, yes," he replied hurriedly. "I can

+come back."</p>

+

+<p>"Certainly, we promise not to lock you up,"

+she answered, half-laughing. "We'll get better

+views of it, too, as we go on," she added, and<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_323" id="Page_323">[323]</a></span>

+turned at a right angle into a green ribbon road

+leading up a second incline.</p>

+

+<p>Phil looked about vaguely, and followed her.

+He noticed on the crest above them a cottage

+of boulders and shingles.</p>

+

+<p>"Yours?" he asked.</p>

+

+<p>"Home, sweet home," she answered.</p>

+

+<p>Captain James passed them now with his

+load, and by the time they reached the cottage,

+Mrs. Fabian was on the steps to welcome them;

+but Philip was absorbed in the surprise which

+the summit of that hill gave the newcomer.

+Before him, but a few rods away, spread the

+Atlantic, foaming at the foot of the bluff. Distant

+islands came near in the crystal air, their

+outline defined by rocks, which in the distance

+seemed ribbons of sandy beach. The superb

+breadth of view, ending either in the horizon

+or in the irregular skyline of the mainland, took

+the breath of the unfamiliar.</p>

+

+<p>Mrs. Fabian straightened with pleasure in

+the spellbound look of her guest as, his hat

+dropped upon the grass, he gazed in silence.

+It was her island and her view. She started to

+speak, but Kathleen touched her finger to her

+lips with a suggestive smile; so the lady sank

+instead into a hammock chair. Her maid Molly<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_324" id="Page_324">[324]</a></span>

+came out of the house, greeted the ladies and

+carried in their bags, saying that dinner would

+be served whenever they were ready.</p>

+

+<p>Philip, from his stand below on the grass,

+turned and looked up at them, his eyes dark

+with the blue of the sea.</p>

+

+<p>"I understand now," he said, "why you

+haven't talked about it."</p>

+

+<p>"Come in and have something to eat," suggested

+his exultant hostess. "We have noon

+dinner. Kathleen simply refuses to shorten the

+day with a long evening meal."</p>

+

+<p>Philip gave the girl a brilliant smile of appreciation.</p>

+

+<p>"After dinner," went on Mrs. Fabian,

+"Kathleen will take you to walk to some of our

+pretty places."</p>

+

+<p>"No, indeed," said the girl hastily. "I understand

+just how Mr. Sidney will love to

+explore for himself. I wouldn't spoil his surprises."</p>

+

+<p>Philip said nothing to the contrary. His

+thoughts were absorbed taking mental stock

+of the materials he had brought, and he followed

+mechanically into the charming cottage

+whose every window framed a water scene,

+waves creaming upon the rocks which stretched<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_325" id="Page_325">[325]</a></span>

+granite fingers unceasingly to grasp them, while

+unceasingly they slipped away.</p>

+

+<p>As soon as Phil reached his room he threw

+open his suitcase with feverish haste and examined

+all the sketching paraphernalia he had

+packed so hastily.</p>

+

+<p>The music box which called to meals played

+all its tunes, but the guest did not appear. At

+last Mrs. Fabian sent Molly to knock on his

+door.</p>

+

+<p>"What a wonderful day," she said to Kathleen

+when they were alone, "and in June one is

+so likely to strike fog and rain. Now let it come.

+He has seen what Brewster's Island really is&mdash;or

+he will see when you have taken him about

+this afternoon. The only drawback to the whole

+trip so far has been your refusal to do that.

+How could you be so abrupt, my dear?"</p>

+

+<p>"Mother, don't try to manage an artist,"

+replied the girl emphatically. "He will want

+only to be let alone. Can't you see it? And so

+do I." Kathleen looked remarkably defiant.

+"I want to be let alone. This is my vacation,

+too, remember. I have worked as hard as he

+has."</p>

+

+<p>Mrs. Fabian met her child's determined regard

+with surprise. Kathleen did look pale and<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_326" id="Page_326">[326]</a></span>

+thin, now that she had time to observe it.

+The heat of the train last night had not been

+conducive to sleep.</p>

+

+<p>"Very well, dear," she acquiesced with

+meekness. "Perhaps you ought to lie down this

+afternoon. I'm sure I shall. I'd like the very

+waves to be still."</p>

+

+<p>As she spoke the last word, Philip appeared

+and they sat down at table. The combination

+of the air and the delicious fresh sea-food to

+one long unaccustomed to home fare made the

+guest suspend all artistic calculations and do

+such justice to the dinner that Mrs. Fabian

+sighed.</p>

+

+<p>"It is such a satisfaction to have a man's

+appetite at the table," she said, when Phil

+made laughing apology and referred to the city

+restaurants. "To-morrow we shall have two

+men."</p>

+

+<p>"To be sure," thought Phil. These were

+Edgar's mother and sister and home. Somehow

+he could not fit the <i lang="fr" xml:lang="fr">blasé</i> society man into this

+Arcadia. He must make the most of to-day.</p>

+

+<p>As his hunger wore away he looked more and

+more from the windows. The dining-room

+might have been on a ship for the freedom of

+its vast sea views. When they rose from the<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_327" id="Page_327">[327]</a></span>

+table, he looked at Kathleen with boyish

+expectancy.</p>

+

+<p>"Are we going to walk?" he asked.</p>

+

+<p>Mrs. Fabian interposed with the best intentions.

+"I don't think Kathleen had better go,

+after all, Phil," she said. "She is very tired.

+She is going to lie down. You won't mind running

+about this first afternoon by yourself,

+I'm sure."</p>

+

+<p>Kathleen saw disappointment and then concern

+grow in the guest's face, for he suddenly

+observed that she was pale.</p>

+

+<p>"Nonsense, I wouldn't think of wasting time

+lying down," she said cheerfully. "Wait a few

+minutes. I'll be downstairs in a jiffy."</p>

+

+<p>Mrs. Fabian watched her as she ran lightly

+up the stairway.</p>

+

+<p>"Do you think she ought to go?" asked Phil

+doubtfully.</p>

+

+<p>"Philip," returned his hostess dryly, "don't

+ask me what I think. If you ever have a

+daughter twenty years old and just out of

+college, you will find the safest, wisest course is

+not to think at all." But she smiled as she said

+it; for this time Kathleen's waywardness was

+not displeasing.</p>

+

+<hr class="chap" />

+

+<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_328" id="Page_328">[328]</a></span></p>

+

+

+

+

+<div class="chapter">

+<h2>CHAPTER XIX</h2>

+</div>

+

+<p class="ph3">FLASHES OF BLUE</p>

+

+

+<p>When Kathleen ran downstairs a little later,

+Phil looked at her in smiling surprise. The elegant

+Miss Fabian had disappeared. In her

+stead was a young girl, shorter by the height

+of a fashionable boot-heel, and with braided

+hair wound around her head, fastened by a

+broad bow of black ribbon. Her short, dark-blue

+skirt reached to her ankles and a Tam o'

+Shanter crowned her head.</p>

+

+<p>Phil turned to his hostess. "What a strong

+family resemblance your youngest bears to

+Miss Fabian. I should know she was her sister

+if I met her anywhere."</p>

+

+<p>"Yes, this is Kathleen, not Miss Fabian.

+Don't forget it. When you come back, I expect

+you to be treating each other as cousins should.

+Don't let her walk too far, Phil." Mrs. Fabian

+stifled a yawn. "I think I shall take a nap in

+the wind-break."</p>

+

+<p>She watched the pair as they moved away from

+the house. The breeze was tossing the short<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_329" id="Page_329">[329]</a></span>

+dark hair on Phil's uncovered head. Kathleen,

+in her rubber-soled, heelless shoes, scarcely

+reached his ear.</p>

+

+<p>"I'm glad now," mused Mrs. Fabian, "that

+Kathleen is a Van Ruysler iceberg. If she were

+a susceptible girl, I wouldn't wish her to be

+with that man a minute. What matter if he is

+a high-minded, fine chap? If he didn't care

+for her she'd suffer just the same." And Mrs.

+Fabian gave a yawn mightier than its predecessors

+and sought her favorite nook.</p>

+

+<p>Meantime Eliza Brewster was making restless

+sallies from the kitchen to the front room

+and gazing over toward the boulder cottage.

+She felt sure Phil would inquire about her, and

+not let too much time pass before he ran across

+the field to Mrs. Wright's.</p>

+

+<p>The dinner dishes were washed and cleared

+away and Eliza had on a clean gingham dress

+and white apron. Mrs. Wright saw her expectancy.</p>

+

+<p>"Mr. Sidney is a stranger in a strange land,"

+she said. "He will be entirely dependent on his

+hosts this first day. Why shouldn't we run

+over there?" she added with a bright thought.

+"That's only island neighborliness."</p>

+

+<p>But Eliza shook her head.</p>

+

+<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_330" id="Page_330">[330]</a></span></p>

+

+<p>"It would be the very way to begin a new

+chapter," urged Mrs. Wright.</p>

+

+<p>Eliza gazed from the window by which she

+was sitting. In the evolution to health and

+peace which the winter had brought, her causes

+of offence had gradually retreated into greater

+perspective, and the broad calm outlook which

+Mrs. Wright brought to bear on the untoward

+as well as the agreeable events of life had

+affected the narrow hardness of her own observations.

+Nevertheless, to beard the lioness in

+her den on the very day of her arrival would be

+a feat entirely beyond Eliza; so she only shook

+her head again, put on a shade hat, turned up

+the skirt of her dress, and went out to weed the

+sweet peas.</p>

+

+<p>Thus it was that, with her back to the boulder

+cottage and her hands busy with the earth she

+loved, she did not hear steps that approached

+on the springy turf; and the first notice she had

+of the arrival of callers was a man's voice

+speaking above her.</p>

+

+<p>"Doing finely, aren't they?" was the remark.</p>

+

+<p>Well she knew the voice. She stepped on her

+petticoat in her haste to arise, and two strong

+hands went under her arms and lifted her to

+her feet.</p>

+

+<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_331" id="Page_331">[331]</a></span></p>

+

+<p>"Mr. Philip!" she said gladly.</p>

+

+<p>He was laughing down at her, and Pluto was

+on his shoulder. Kathleen Fabian stood a few

+feet away, and Eliza nodded a greeting to her

+while she allowed Phil to shake both her hands,

+green stains and all. Mrs. Wright, seeing them

+from a window, came out to welcome Kathleen

+and meet Phil, and the usual felicitations on

+the weather and first impressions followed.</p>

+

+<p>"I can see," said Phil, "that I am going to be

+miserly of my days. I was just asking Miss

+Kathleen if all this beauty is liable to vanish

+in a fog-bank to-morrow."</p>

+

+<p>"And she told you not at all liable, I'm sure,"

+said Mrs. Wright; "but if it does&mdash;that is the

+beauty of the island&mdash;you'll sit before a blazing

+open fire and enjoy that quite as well."

+Phil shook his head. "The mere amazement

+of enjoying a fire at the end of the past week

+would, indeed, be absorbing for a while; but I

+want to try my hand at this&mdash;this new world."

+He looked off at the blue of the crested waves

+and the blue of the distant hills. "We are just

+on our way to the boat now to send a night

+letter to Pat to get him to send on some stuff.

+I'm glad you're such a near neighbor, Eliza.

+I shall be seeing you often."</p>

+

+<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_332" id="Page_332">[332]</a></span></p>

+

+<p>"I'll not waste your time now asking you

+into the house," said Mrs. Wright, "but some

+wet day you must come in and try our fireplace.

+When does your brother come, Miss Kathleen?"</p>

+

+<p>"To-morrow; and your niece, Mrs. Wright?"</p>

+

+<p>"In another week, I think. I long to get

+hold of the child."</p>

+

+<p>After a few more amenities, in which Eliza

+took but little part, except to gaze at Phil with

+wistful eyes, the young people started for the

+wharf.</p>

+

+<p>"What a bonny young man," said Mrs.

+Wright, looking after them.</p>

+

+<p>"Ain't he just about right?" agreed Eliza

+proudly. "You see there ain't any philanderin'

+there. He just wants to work and work. Here,

+Pluto! Kitty, kitty," for the cat was running

+after the departing couple. He paused, not

+from obedience, but because he saw that their

+course lay downhill and he preferred a sheltered

+sunny corner by the step.</p>

+

+<p>Phil sent his night letter by the purser of the

+boat, and the two went back up the hill. Mrs.

+Fabian beckoned to them from the veranda.</p>

+

+<p>"I thought you would be asleep by this time,"

+said Kathleen.</p>

+

+<p>"I thought I would, too," returned Mrs.<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_333" id="Page_333">[333]</a></span>

+Fabian. "Come here and let me show you how

+careless Cap'n James has been."</p>

+

+<p>They followed her to the shelter of the windbreak

+where her favorite hammock hung, and

+whirring wings nearly brushed Phil's face as

+they entered. The nook was enclosed on two

+sides with glass, and Mrs. Fabian pointed to

+the snug lofty corner where the swallows had

+nested. The young were grown and one had

+ventured out upon a beam.</p>

+

+<p>"Oh, oh!" exclaimed Kathleen, with soft

+delight. "We're in time for the coming-out

+party. Come here, mother, you're frightening

+them." And Mrs. Fabian found herself seized

+unsympathetically and drawn to a safe distance.</p>

+

+<p>"But I must sleep, Kathleen. I'm exhausted.

+I was just dozing off when those creatures

+swooped across me chattering. I nearly jumped

+out of the hammock. It was a nervous shock."</p>

+

+<p>"I suppose," said the girl, "they were saying,

+'Why couldn't those big clumsy human beings

+have stayed away just one more day!' You

+must be a mascot, Phil, so many fortunate

+happenings for your first day."</p>

+

+<p>She was quite unconscious that the name had

+slipped out, and the guest smiled and seated

+himself on the railing near her while Mrs.<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_334" id="Page_334">[334]</a></span>

+Fabian in a rocking-chair began to be consoled

+for her lost nap.</p>

+

+<p>"Perhaps you would prefer to go on exploring,"

+added Kathleen, "but I really can't miss

+this function."</p>

+

+<p>"I wouldn't miss it for a farm," responded

+the guest, eyes fixed on the nest.</p>

+

+<p>Mrs. Fabian pulled her chair so that its

+rockers scraped the boards.</p>

+

+<p>"We must all be still as mice," warned Kathleen

+softly.</p>

+

+<p>Her mother looked up at the seething nest

+with disfavor. Since her young people considered

+the show such a treat, she would be obliged

+to edit the lecture she had been preparing for

+Captain James. The parent birds flew in and

+out in a state of great excitement, and one of

+them fed the venturesome little fellow on the

+beam, whereupon the others stretched their

+necks and vociferated with wide mouths.</p>

+

+<p>"But they're so slow," complained Mrs.

+Fabian. "Why don't they fly and be done with

+it? I can hardly keep my eyes open."</p>

+

+<p>"They may not go for an hour, or perhaps all

+night&mdash;oh, if they are so unkind as to wait

+until we're all asleep to-morrow morning!"

+said Kathleen.</p>

+

+<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_335" id="Page_335">[335]</a></span></p>

+

+<p>"Then I don't know that I shall wait," said

+Mrs. Fabian.</p>

+

+<p>"Perhaps you'd better not," agreed the girl,

+her eyes fixed on the young bird lest he should

+elude her. "We're none of us invited to this

+party, you see."</p>

+

+<p>Upon this, the venturesome little swallow

+appeared to have an attack of homesickness,

+for, instead of flying away, he hopped back to

+the nest, where he immediately became very

+unpopular with his brothers and sisters. Whatever

+the spot into which he had this morning

+fitted so snugly, it seemed to have disappeared.</p>

+

+<p>"Well, did you ever!" exclaimed Mrs.

+Fabian in exasperation. "Why couldn't Phil

+climb up there and set them all out on the beam

+and take the nest down. I'm sure it would just

+help them along."</p>

+

+<p>"Worse than pulling open a rosebud," said

+Kathleen.</p>

+

+<p>"Very well, then," returned Mrs. Fabian.

+"I shall go upstairs."</p>

+

+<p>No one objecting, she rose and suited the

+action to the word; and Kathleen and Phil were

+left to a welcome solitude.</p>

+

+<p>The parent swallows soon ceased to notice<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_336" id="Page_336">[336]</a></span>

+the two large, strange birds perched on the

+veranda railing below.</p>

+

+<p>Kathleen had discarded her Tam and as

+she sat between Phil and the wind-break, the

+sun gave him the red glints in her "reserved

+hair."</p>

+

+<p>The tide was going out, but rushing with a

+splendid sweep toward the foot of their hill, the

+sky had occasional billows of downy white lying

+against its clear blue. The sweet wind swept

+the fresh grass where daisies were beginning to

+appear, and all down the irregular coast-line

+of the island the snowy foam broke on rock and

+sand.</p>

+

+<p>The iridescent blue of the swallows' backs

+and the delicate rose of their breasts lent an

+exquisite touch of color, as they flew and

+wheeled in the curving flight designed to tempt

+the solemn-faced young, crowded so uncomfortably

+in the outgrown nest.</p>

+

+<p>Again one struggled out upon the beam. The

+cunning parents fed it, while the others begged

+in vain. Then again the old birds were away in

+airy flight.</p>

+

+<p>"Come out, come out in the sunshine," they

+seemed to cry, wheeling back toward the nest.

+"Come out to the ecstasy of wind and waves.<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_337" id="Page_337">[337]</a></span>

+The whole world, the world of sea and sky, is

+ours."</p>

+

+<p>Kathleen for an instant turned about to her

+companion. "Do you see how he can resist?"

+she asked.</p>

+

+<p>"Kathleen!" exclaimed Phil.</p>

+

+<p>She turned back, but too late. In that instant

+the young bird on the beam had flown.</p>

+

+<p>"They're right there, though," said Phil

+excitedly, and indeed the birds kept wheeling

+above the bluff, when, wonder of wonders, the

+other young ones, struggling to the edge of the

+nest as if unable to resist the intoxication of the

+sight, flew out into the open.</p>

+

+<p>For a minute the bright air was astir with the

+whir of wings. It was impossible to distinguish

+the young birds from the old; then they all

+alighted on the ridge-pole of a small summer

+house which stood on the edge of the bluff.</p>

+

+<p>Kathleen turned to Phil, her hands clasped

+on her breast. He thought her enchanted eyes

+and smile suggested the unlocking of one of her

+inner doors.</p>

+

+<p>"Yes," he replied, nodding, "I never saw

+anything prettier than that."</p>

+

+<p>The girl looked back at the summer house.

+The birds were still sitting there all in a row.<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_338" id="Page_338">[338]</a></span>

+The two watched until again wings were afloat

+in the bright air; then they ran down the steps

+to see what would be the next resting-place,

+and saw the birds alight on posts and netting

+about the tennis court. When again they flew,

+they disappeared.</p>

+

+<p>Kathleen sighed. "In my next incarnation,"

+she said, "I choose to be a swallow on Brewster's

+Island."</p>

+

+<p>"Then," said Phil, looking at her radiant

+face, "I'm glad I happened to be a man during

+your present one."</p>

+

+<p>The open door closed. Phil thought he could

+almost hear it click. In an instant the dark

+eyes were the reflective ones he had known.</p>

+

+<p>"Thank you kindly, sir," she said. "That

+was good fun. Shall we go on now with our

+interrupted walk?"</p>

+

+<p>He continued to regard her. "I have an

+idea that you have walked enough. Twice up

+and down this hill and over to Mrs. Wright's

+is enough."</p>

+

+<p>"Ho!" returned the girl lightly, "I walk all

+day here."</p>

+

+<p>"Yes, after you have cooled off and slept for

+a night or two; but I suggest the hammock

+now."</p>

+

+<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_339" id="Page_339">[339]</a></span></p>

+

+<p>They were standing in the shade and not a

+hint of red showed in the girl's soft hair. "There

+are weeks to rest in," she said. "We ought to

+make the most of this perfect day."</p>

+

+<p>Phil still regarded her. The excitement of

+the closing college experiences and the city

+heat had left their mark; and he did not know

+of other and deeper reasons for her weariness.

+The flush of pleasure in the swallow ball had

+departed.</p>

+

+<p>"Come," he said decidedly, "let's try the

+hammock."</p>

+

+<p>"Really, Mr. Sidney," she answered, smiling,

+"I know when I'm tired."</p>

+

+<p>But he proceeded up the veranda steps and

+she followed him into the wind-break.</p>

+

+<p>"I'm willing," he said, "to go two steps forward

+and one back in my acquaintance with

+you; but I draw the line at two back. It

+sounded very friendly a few minutes ago when

+you called me Phil. I hope you'll see your way

+clear to doing it again sometime."</p>

+

+<p>While he spoke, Philip was testing the ropes

+of the hammock.</p>

+

+<p>"Oh, I'm sure I didn't call you Phil," she

+said in surprise.</p>

+

+<p>"Let me see. Did I call you Kathleen?"</p>

+

+<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_340" id="Page_340">[340]</a></span></p>

+

+<p>"I think you did," she replied, a delicate

+formality in her voice; "but the circumstances

+certainly excused it."</p>

+

+<p>"I hope they will continue to excuse it, for I

+feel it coming on that I shall do it again. You

+took off Miss Fabian with your tailor gown."

+He turned and faced her. "Didn't you?" he

+added.</p>

+

+<p>She shrugged her shoulders, and smiled again.

+"Perhaps."</p>

+

+<p>"Then get right down on this couch, little

+Kathleen," he ordered, smiling, and after a

+moment's hesitation the girl obeyed. He drew

+over her the linen coverlet that had lain on a

+neighboring chair, and looked, not at her, but

+with fascinated eyes through the broad sheets

+of glass which guarded the hammock from the

+wind.</p>

+

+<p>"Now, if you can feel sober enough to sleep

+in this intoxicating place, do so," he said.</p>

+

+<p>Kathleen, propped high on cushions, folded

+her arms beneath her head.</p>

+

+<p>"But isn't it questionable courtesy for both

+your hostesses to go to sleep, no matter how

+sober they may be?" she asked.</p>

+

+<p>"There's another hostess here," he returned,

+with a brilliant look down into her uplifted eyes.</p>

+

+<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_341" id="Page_341">[341]</a></span></p>

+

+<p>"Yes, I know," said Kathleen.</p>

+

+<p>"My best girl," said Phil, moving out of the

+wind-break.</p>

+

+<p>Kathleen smiled. "Yes, I like her, too," she

+answered. "I never had a lonely moment on

+this island in my life; so I shall not worry about

+you. There's another hammock around on the

+other side of the porch. Why don't you go to

+sleep yourself?"</p>

+

+<p>"Because I'm afraid I should wake up in

+Gramercy Park," returned Phil, and, vaulting

+over the porch railing, he disappeared from

+Kathleen's view.</p>

+

+<p>Walking to the back of the house, he gazed

+down at the waters of the cove, then across the

+field to the long low white farmhouse where

+he had found Eliza, then back again at the

+water. "Miss Manning said I should stay here

+if I had to live under a rock," he reflected.</p>

+

+<p>One week: one week was all he had planned

+for, although Mrs. Fabian had pressed him for

+two.</p>

+

+<p>What were two weeks now in prospect? He

+knew his aunt would welcome him for an indefinite

+stay, but Kathleen doubtless had plans for

+guests, and moreover Edgar's advent was but

+one little night away. He shuddered at the<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_342" id="Page_342">[342]</a></span>

+prospect of the gilded youth's questions and

+comments on his work.</p>

+

+<p>He decided to walk around the edge of the

+island. Then he looked back toward Mrs.

+Wright's house. He remembered the look of

+disappointment in the depths of Eliza's shade

+hat when he had paid the fleeting visit on his

+way to the wharf.</p>

+

+<p>"I'll go to see her once more," he reflected,

+"and have her off my mind, for I'm afraid

+I shall forget when I get a little deeper in

+here."</p>

+

+<p>Accordingly, he moved off with long swinging

+steps through the soft deep grass, and Mrs.

+Wright saw him coming. She was sitting with

+her book on the rustic bench which took the

+place of piazza at the old farmhouse.</p>

+

+<p>"Eliza," she called, "your young man is

+coming back."</p>

+

+<p>It was an hour afterward that Mrs. Fabian,

+her grudge against the swallows mollified by a

+nap, came downstairs to the living-room to

+reconnoitre. All was so still that she knew that

+either those dull birds were still dawdling, or

+else that her young people had seen them off

+and were away again.</p>

+

+<p>She peered from a window into the glass<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_343" id="Page_343">[343]</a></span>

+enclosure, and to her surprise saw her daughter

+asleep in the hammock. How slender and pale

+looked the sleeping face.</p>

+

+<p>"Poor child. She's worn out, I wonder where

+Phil is."</p>

+

+<p>As if the gaze had disturbed the sleeper,

+Kathleen turned on her pillow and opened her

+eyes.</p>

+

+<p>Mrs. Fabian promptly left the house and

+came out to her swinging couch.</p>

+

+<p>"So you took forty winks, too," she said,

+casting a glance up at the deserted nest.

+"Where's Phil?"</p>

+

+<p>"I don't know," returned Kathleen languidly.

+"I scarcely know where I am."</p>

+

+<p>"I hope I didn't wake you, gazing from the

+window; but it's no use your trying to sleep

+again, for Cap'n James is coming up at last

+with the trunks. Kathleen, I've had a bright

+idea," added Mrs. Fabian alertly.</p>

+

+<p>The girl stifled a yawn.</p>

+

+<p>"You know Phil won't stay here unless he's

+working. I'm going to have him do our portraits

+for father's Christmas present!"</p>

+

+<p>Kathleen was wide awake instantly.</p>

+

+<p>"It would cost so much, mother," she said.</p>

+

+<p>Mrs. Fabian stared at her. "What an idea!"<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_344" id="Page_344">[344]</a></span>

+she retorted. "Phil hasn't come to enormous

+prices yet!"</p>

+

+<p>"But you would not want to pay him a small

+price. It wouldn't be right."</p>

+

+<p>"Since when have you become so economical?"

+asked Mrs. Fabian, laughing. "After

+Christmas, I must tell your father of this talk.

+How he will laugh. You and Edgar should be

+shaken up. Phil's sketches of his mother show

+his gift for getting likeness. I don't know

+whether he has ever painted a portrait, but I

+have every confidence in him."</p>

+

+<p>"Then have yours done, dear," said Kathleen.

+"You're looking as well as usual, but nothing

+would hire me to have my lantern jaws perpetuated."</p>

+

+<p>"Oh, a week or two of this will make you

+bloom, child."</p>

+

+<p>"Yes, especially my nose," returned the girl.</p>

+

+<p>Her thoughts were working fast. She had

+been happy in the thought that they were now

+in the place where neither her mother nor

+Edgar could commit themselves to any large

+expense. Her father had said that by autumn

+he should know where he stood. She could not

+say any more, however, for Captain James's

+wagon had arrived, and Mrs. Fabian went to<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_345" id="Page_345">[345]</a></span>

+see to the disposition of the trunks and to give

+her caretaker explicit low-voiced directions as

+to examining for and eliminating any and all

+birds' nests found in future on the premises,

+and at last she brought him around to the wind-break

+to point out the one he was to remove

+now, with all its traces, at the earliest possible

+moment.</p>

+

+<p>Kathleen, still lying, her hands clasped under

+her head, looked up at him with a smile.</p>

+

+<p>"I'm so glad you didn't notice that nest any

+sooner, Cap'n James," she said. "You might

+have disturbed it."</p>

+

+<p>Captain James chewed a wisp of grass and

+favored the girl with a wink.</p>

+

+<p>"It wasn't like you," said Mrs. Fabian,

+with elaborately gentle rebuke, "not to have

+this wind-break cleaner. Look at the windows."</p>

+

+<p>"I had Betsy Eaton wash 'em on the outside,"

+said the captain imperturbably, and winked at

+Kathleen again.</p>

+

+<p>"It was fine of you, Cap'n James," she

+laughed. "They flew to-day, and I was at the

+party."</p>

+

+<p>Mrs. Fabian looked from one to the other of

+the laughing ones, in injured dignity.</p>

+

+<p>"Very well," she said at last; "now, if you're<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_346" id="Page_346">[346]</a></span>

+quite sure it won't disturb the plans of man or

+beast, Cap'n James, I'd like to have this wind-break

+cleaned."</p>

+

+<p>"'Nuff said," returned the man, and once

+more grinning down at the girl's laughing face,

+he went back to his helper sitting on the wagon.</p>

+

+<hr class="chap" />

+

+<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_347" id="Page_347">[347]</a></span></p>

+

+

+

+

+<div class="chapter">

+<h2>CHAPTER XX</h2>

+</div>

+

+<p class="ph3">ELIZA SURRENDERS</p>

+

+

+<p>Eliza had begun some work in the kitchen

+which she could not at once leave when Mrs.

+Wright called her, so the latter brought Phil

+into the house.</p>

+

+<p>"No wonder Eliza didn't expect me twice a

+day," he said. "What an interesting old place

+this is."</p>

+

+<p>"Yes," answered Mrs. Wright; "and we are

+making the most of the few days that it will

+still be all ours. Miss Jane Foster, who owns

+it, comes almost immediately to take possession

+and receive her summer boarders."</p>

+

+<p>"But won't that be a rest for you?"</p>

+

+<p>"Scarcely; for Eliza has taken such a laboring

+oar that I live in the lap of luxury, so far as

+work is concerned."</p>

+

+<p>Eliza came in, in time to hear this statement.

+"Don't you believe it, Mr. Philip. She's the

+busy bee of the house; but we've both had just

+enough to do."</p>

+

+<p>"Eliza!" exclaimed Phil, approaching and<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_348" id="Page_348">[348]</a></span>

+taking both her hard hands. "Why, I didn't

+half see you in that shade hat! You look like

+a new being."</p>

+

+<p>Eliza laughed and colored under the scrutiny.

+Her added pounds had distributed themselves

+comfortably and becomingly. She did, indeed,

+bear little resemblance to the haggard creature

+of the autumn.</p>

+

+<p>"Why, let me look at you!" went on the

+artist gladly. "You've robbed me of a whole

+lot of good material. If you posed for me now,

+it would amount to nothing more than the

+portrait of a lady."</p>

+

+<p>Mrs. Wright laughed, well pleased, and

+amused, too, at the embarrassed manner in

+which Eliza pulled away her hands.</p>

+

+<p>"But you stay on here, I suppose, just the

+same," said Phil, turning back to his hostess.</p>

+

+<p>"Oh, yes. I've taken a room for Violet, my

+niece, and Miss Foster has made a business

+arrangement with Eliza to be her helper, so the

+only great difference will be the arrival of new

+people."</p>

+

+<p>Considerations immediately ran through

+Phil's head of this home as a possibility for

+his prolonged stay. Second thought, however,

+pictured the going and coming of summer<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_349" id="Page_349">[349]</a></span>

+boarders and the impossibility of privacy.

+Besides, he could not afford it.</p>

+

+<p>He picked up a small black book which his

+eye had caught lying beside the Bible on Mrs.

+Wright's table.</p>

+

+<p>"Oh!" he said, raising his eyebrows and

+looking at her with a smile.</p>

+

+<p>"Do you know it?" she asked.</p>

+

+<p>"My mother lives by it," he returned.</p>

+

+<p>"Then her boy does, I'm sure," said Mrs.

+Wright.</p>

+

+<p>"He tries to," answered Phil. "I was just

+thinking now of our philosophy, and trying to

+know that, if it's right for me to stay on this

+island, it will come to pass. I feel as if I could

+do a lot of work here."</p>

+

+<p>"Mrs. Fabian will have too much of a houseful?"</p>

+

+<p>"Perhaps not; but there couldn't be any

+independence in that; and I couldn't bring

+paint rags into her spick-and-span cottage."</p>

+

+<p>"Take board here," suggested Mrs. Wright.</p>

+

+<p>Phil shook his head. "I don't want to give

+the price for a long pull. Miss Manning prophesied

+that I should live under a rock rather

+than leave. I'll go rock-hunting some day."</p>

+

+<p>"There must be some way, Mr. Philip!"<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_350" id="Page_350">[350]</a></span>

+exclaimed Eliza, who had listened attentively.

+The intensity of her manner reminded Phil of

+other days.</p>

+

+<p>"You should have more stables on the island,"

+he returned. "It's very thoughtless of you."</p>

+

+<p>"We can all help him, remember, Eliza,"

+said Mrs. Wright&mdash;"you know I've told you&mdash;by

+thinking right."</p>

+

+<p>"Goodness knows, I'd think anything that'd

+keep him here," returned Eliza bluntly. "He's

+as white as a candle, and it makes me sick to

+think o' the perspiration runnin' into his eyes.

+What d'you want me to think? I'll say the

+moon's made o' green cheese, if it'll do any

+good."</p>

+

+<p>"No, it only does good to think the truth.

+It's law. You remember how I've told you

+that we live under laws and they aren't material

+ones? Our thoughts are our whole concern.

+Get thought right, and action takes care of

+itself. You're stopping up one of the channels

+through which good can come to you and

+yours. You consider Mr. Sidney one of yours,

+I'm sure."</p>

+

+<p>Eliza averted her eyes uncomfortably.</p>

+

+<p>"Yes," went on Mrs. Wright, smiling, "I'm

+speaking right out in meeting, because you've<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_351" id="Page_351">[351]</a></span>

+told me that Mr. Sidney knows of your antagonism."</p>

+

+<p>"She's talkin' about the barrel," remarked

+Eliza dryly.</p>

+

+<p>"Oh, the barrel!" laughed Phil. "I'd forgotten

+about that. So has Aunt Isabel, I fancy."</p>

+

+<p>"I'll bet a cookie she went to your room and

+tried to get it," said Eliza, eyeing him shrewdly.</p>

+

+<p>Phil nodded. "Yes, she did."</p>

+

+<p>Eliza struck her hands together with satisfaction.

+"I'd give more'n a cookie to have

+seen her face when she got there," she said

+triumphantly.</p>

+

+<p>"No, I wasn't talking about the barrel,"

+continued Mrs. Wright. "That is your own

+affair: whether you care to keep those family

+treasures or to give them up. I was speaking in

+general about your forgiving Mrs. Fabian as

+you would be forgiven, and banishing discord

+from the atmosphere. How can you tell how

+much sunlight that cloud is holding back from

+this dear boy of Mrs. Ballard's?"</p>

+

+<p>Eliza stared into space and bit her lip. The

+three were standing in a group near the table.</p>

+

+<p>"Well, sit down, anyway," she said briefly,

+and they did so.</p>

+

+<p>Phil saw that there was method in Mrs.<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_352" id="Page_352">[352]</a></span>

+Wright's choosing of this particular opportunity

+to make a point. Hers was the face of a

+peacemaker and it was easy to see what pain

+she would find in discord.</p>

+

+<p>Now she turned to Phil and asked him about

+his father and mother, and he told her of the

+mountains, and his periodical longing for them.

+This place, he added, gave him a similar sense of

+exhilaration. It seemed as if he were breathing

+again for the first time since November.</p>

+

+<p>"You've got to stay," said Eliza nervously;

+"that's all there is about it."</p>

+

+<p>He smiled. "The bark on a tree isn't as

+tight as I am," he replied. "I've planned to

+make my money do just so much."</p>

+

+<p>"'With God all things are possible,'" remarked

+Mrs. Wright.</p>

+

+<p>"Yes," he laughed; "I'm going to look for a

+cave with a skylight."</p>

+

+<p>Eliza's thoughts were painfully busy. The

+constant dropping of the winter had made an

+impression on their adamant. Supposing there

+should be anything in what Mrs. Wright just

+said. Supposing God were to punish her for

+continuing to hate an enemy; punish her by

+holding back some benefit from her dear one's

+<i lang="fr" xml:lang="fr">protégé</i>.</p>

+

+<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_353" id="Page_353">[353]</a></span></p>

+

+<p>She stirred around in her chair during a

+pause. "I've been thinkin' to-day," she said

+carelessly, "that I didn't exactly know what I

+was goin' to do with that barrel. I've got to

+bring it down from upstairs before Jennie gets

+here."</p>

+

+<p>"Let me do that for you," said Phil quickly.

+"I've been honing to lift something heavy all

+the afternoon. I've felt as if I could lick my

+weight in wild cats ever since dinner."</p>

+

+<p>He started up with such eagerness that Eliza

+mechanically arose and went to the stairs, Phil

+following; and Mrs. Wright, a hopeful light in

+her eyes, looked on.</p>

+

+<p>"We've got to get these rooms ready for

+boarders," explained Eliza as they went up to

+the second story. "It's real clever of you to

+lug the barrel down for me."</p>

+

+<p>Phil smiled covertly as he recognized the old

+bone of contention with the flourishing address

+he had executed, and he steered it down the

+narrow stairs successfully.</p>

+

+<p>Eliza had preceded him nimbly.</p>

+

+<p>As soon as she reached the living-room, Mrs.

+Wright approached her.</p>

+

+<p>"Where are you going to put it?" she asked,

+looking wistfully at Eliza.</p>

+

+<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_354" id="Page_354">[354]</a></span></p>

+

+<p>"Oh, anywhere," replied the latter with

+bravado.</p>

+

+<p>"Jane wouldn't like it in here, of course,"

+remarked Mrs. Wright.</p>

+

+<p>"Well, I suppose I have a right to my own

+room, haven't I?" Eliza retorted sharply.</p>

+

+<p>"Wouldn't it be very much in the way,

+dear? You have it fixed so pretty in there."</p>

+

+<p>"Well, what's the reason it can't stand in the

+shed?" asked Eliza, with defiance.</p>

+

+<p>Mrs. Wright shook her head. "'Where moth

+and rust doth corrupt,'" she said slowly.</p>

+

+<p>Phil now had the barrel down, and was standing

+beside it, waiting.</p>

+

+<p>"Whither away, now?" he asked.</p>

+

+<p>"Eliza," said Mrs. Wright, "there's a wheelbarrow

+out in the shed."</p>

+

+<p>Eliza colored and bit her lip. "Do you

+know," she said, turning to Phil, "Mrs. Wright

+wants me to give those things to Mrs. Fabian?"</p>

+

+<p>"Well, it would tickle Aunt Isabel almost to

+pieces," he admitted.</p>

+

+<p>"Do you see any reason or justice in it?"</p>

+

+<p>Phil smiled. "It's a luxury to do an unreasonable

+thing once in a while," he answered.</p>

+

+<p>"If I thought it would do you the least bit

+o' good," said Eliza, "I'd do anything. I'd<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_355" id="Page_355">[355]</a></span>

+find a white hair in a black dog's tail and burn

+it by the light o' the moon, at midnight," she

+added scornfully; "but unluckily I ain't superstitious."</p>

+

+<p>Phil glanced at Mrs. Wright's sweet, earnest

+face, and understood that she had thought

+deeply of the prospect of discord between the

+two cottages.</p>

+

+<p>"Come on, Eliza," he said, with boyish

+enthusiasm, "it would be great fun to see Aunt

+Isabel's face. Even if you were after revenge,

+coals of fire are a mighty punishment, and if

+you're only being magnanimous and letting bygones

+be bygones why, who knows but it will

+be the means of my finding the cave with the

+skylight?"</p>

+

+<p>Eliza turned away suddenly from his laughing

+eyes. "All right," she said, "take it! I'll

+show you where the wheelbarrow is; and when

+you've got it across that hubbly field you won't

+be looking for wild cats to fight."</p>

+

+<p>"Oh, but you'll steady the barrel."</p>

+

+<p>"Will I! Well, you can guess again, young

+man." Eliza's eyes flashed.</p>

+

+<p>"Oh, pshaw," he said. "Don't make two

+bites of a cherry. If the barrel goes, you

+go."</p>

+

+<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_356" id="Page_356">[356]</a></span></p>

+

+<p>Eliza met his gay, determined look with

+exasperation.</p>

+

+<p>"This is persecution," she declared angrily;

+then added beseechingly, "Don't make me,

+Mr. Philip."</p>

+

+<p>"I couldn't let you miss it," he returned.

+"We have the white hair of the black dog, but,

+you see, we have to burn it."</p>

+

+<p>Eliza looked appealingly toward Mrs. Wright,

+whose face was expectant.</p>

+

+<p>"Dear Eliza," she said.</p>

+

+<p>"Don't you 'dear' me," snapped Eliza.

+"Come this way, Mr. Philip."</p>

+

+<p>She marched out of the room, and Mrs.

+Wright seized and squeezed Phil's hand as he

+passed. He gave her a laughing look.</p>

+

+<p>Soon the march across the field began. Mrs.

+Wright watched them from the window. Eliza,

+her shade hat tied primly down beneath her

+chin, steadied the barrel when Phil's route

+encountered too great an irregularity.</p>

+

+<p>"Dear martyr," thought Mrs. Wright, who

+had caught a glimpse of her companion's expression

+as they moved away. "She does love

+that beautiful boy. I hope her reward will come

+soon."</p>

+

+<p>Captain James had just driven back down<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_357" id="Page_357">[357]</a></span>

+the hill after bringing up the trunks when Phil

+and Eliza reached the shaven sward about the

+Fabian cottage.</p>

+

+<p>Phil dropped the wheelbarrow at the steps.</p>

+

+<p>"Wait here a minute, Eliza, till I reconnoitre,"

+he said. "This was a sleeping castle

+when I left."</p>

+

+<p>"Now, if they're asleep&mdash;" said Eliza, hastily

+and hopefully; but Phil had disappeared

+quietly around the corner which led to the windbreak.

+As he approached, the sound of voices

+mingled with the tide, so he advanced with

+confidence.</p>

+

+<p>Kathleen was sitting on the edge of the hammock

+facing her mother, who looked around as

+Phil came in view.</p>

+

+<p>"Here we are, awake at last," she said.

+"Where have you been? How well you look!

+You have quite a flush."</p>

+

+<p>He came close to her. "I've been helping

+Eliza Brewster bring you a present," he said.</p>

+

+<p>Mrs. Fabian was all attention, but a look of

+resentment spread over her countenance.</p>

+

+<p>"She is here with me," went on Phil, low and

+rapidly. "It means a good deal, you know. I

+hope you will be very nice to her."</p>

+

+<p>Kathleen, alertly comprehending, rose from<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_358" id="Page_358">[358]</a></span>

+the hammock and moved past her mother and

+around to where Eliza stood by the steps,

+schooling herself.</p>

+

+<p>"You can't get out of a barrel what ain't in

+it," she reflected. "'Tain't any use tappin' a

+barrel o' vinegar and bein' mad 'cause maple

+syrup don't come out."</p>

+

+<p>"You scarcely spoke to me this morning,"

+said Kathleen pleasantly, "you were so glad to

+see Mr. Sidney."</p>

+

+<p>Eliza shook hands awkwardly. Kathleen

+Fabian seemed even to her prejudice to ring

+true. "She don't inherit vinegar," thought

+Eliza. "I don't know why I shouldn't give her

+the benefit o' the doubt. Maybe she is maple

+clear through."</p>

+

+<p>Mrs. Fabian now came in stately fashion

+around the corner into view. Her eyes caught

+sight of the barrel and glistened. It was almost

+impossible to believe that&mdash;</p>

+

+<p>"How do you do, Eliza?" she said, in mellifluous

+tones. "Mr. Sidney tells me you wish to

+see me&mdash;"</p>

+

+<p>"Yes, about this barrel," interrupted Eliza,

+with nervous haste. "It's some o' the things

+Mrs. Ballard left me that I thought you'd

+enjoy havin'. It's her silver and china, just as<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_359" id="Page_359">[359]</a></span>

+I packed 'em in New York. I haven't taken

+out anything."</p>

+

+<p>"Why, really, Eliza, do you know, I appreciate

+that very much," said Mrs. Fabian graciously,

+"and I shall enjoy them far more here

+than I could in New York. I&mdash;"</p>

+

+<p>"Yes,'m," said Eliza, "I've got to hurry

+back to get supper. We have a real early

+tea."</p>

+

+<p>"No, not until you've come in and seen

+where Aunt Mary's things are to be. I really

+couldn't allow you to go without sitting down

+a minute to rest."</p>

+

+<p>"No, no, thank you," said Eliza, more hurriedly.</p>

+

+<p>"Perhaps you did come in and see the cottage

+while it was being prepared for us."</p>

+

+<p>"No, ma'am," returned Eliza, arrested in

+flight. "I've never been as near to it as this."</p>

+

+<p>"I wish you would come in, then," said

+Kathleen. "We think it's very pretty."</p>

+

+<p>So Eliza yielded, and Phil followed her into

+the house, showing her the views from the windows,

+and before she came out again she had

+exchanged remarks with Mrs. Fabian on the

+increased price of lobsters and other practical

+subjects.</p>

+

+<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_360" id="Page_360">[360]</a></span></p>

+

+<p>"Really quite human," commented Mrs.

+Fabian when the guest had departed.</p>

+

+<p>"And how well she looks," said Kathleen.</p>

+

+<p>"Now," remarked her mother complacently,

+"you see my own has come to me. I knew

+Eliza was half-crazy last autumn. I just anticipate

+pulling over those funny old things."</p>

+

+<p>Meanwhile Phil and Eliza were retracing

+their steps across the field.</p>

+

+<p>"There! that didn't hurt much, did it?" he

+asked.</p>

+

+<p>"I haven't got much use for her," replied

+Eliza, "but I do believe Kathleen Fabian's a

+sensible girl."</p>

+

+<p>"Our friend Edgar is coming to-morrow,"

+remarked Phil.</p>

+

+<p>Eliza looked up at him shrewdly from beneath

+the shade hat. "Is that the reason you

+want to be a cave man?"</p>

+

+<p>Phil laughed. "Perhaps it's one," he admitted.

+"He's a rather&mdash;well&mdash;pervasive

+person, we'll say. I need elbow room to work.

+Isn't this a great place, Eliza?" The speaker's

+eyes swept the surroundings. "You're farther

+from the sea than the Fabians. You have a

+grand orchard, I see," added Phil, laughing; "or

+does it belong to that little cottage over there?"</p>

+

+<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_361" id="Page_361">[361]</a></span></p>

+

+<p>"Where? Oh, you mean the chicken-house?"</p>

+

+<p>"Chicken-house! Are the hens here so high-toned

+they have to have windows besides their

+roosts? There are places out West where the

+reason for the cows giving little milk is said to

+be because they become so enchanted with the

+scenery that they forget to eat. I suppose those

+hens go up to the second floor to watch the sunset."</p>

+

+<p>Phil looked curiously at the little story and a

+half building guarded by the balm-of-Gilead

+trees.</p>

+

+<p>"Law, there ain't any hens there," replied

+Eliza. "A pig wouldn't live there now. I'm

+itchin' to burn it down, it's so dirty."</p>

+

+<p>"Nobody lives there?" asked Phil.</p>

+

+<p>"No, not since Granny Foster that it was

+built for. She scared us children out of our wits

+in her time, and I s'pose we pestered her, 'cause

+of course we was imps and couldn't keep away.

+We'd rather play tricks on her than eat, but

+only a few got their courage up to do more than

+knock on the door and run away. That door!

+My! to think I can walk up to it and open it.

+It seems wonderful even now."</p>

+

+<p>"Let's go and open it," said Phil, eagerly,

+beginning to stride in that direction.</p>

+

+<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_362" id="Page_362">[362]</a></span></p>

+

+<p>"Oh, no, Mr. Philip, keep away. It's too

+dirty and musty in there for words. Jennie

+quit keepin' hens a long time ago, and I guess

+she just let it rot away there, 'cause 'twa'n't

+worth cleanin'!"</p>

+

+<p>"Oh, but I want to see where little Eliza was

+scared," persisted Phil, hurrying so fast that

+Eliza was obliged to run after him. She stood

+away a little, though, with her long nose lifted

+while he opened the door and his eager eyes

+swept the interior.</p>

+

+<p>"Don't you go in there, oh, don't, Mr.

+Philip," she said. "I can tell you just what there

+is, a parlor and a kitchen, and a rough kind o'

+steps that go upstairs where there's only half a

+floor. It would make a grand bonfire. I wish

+Jennie'd let us."</p>

+

+<p>"She owns it, does she? The woman that's

+going to keep your boarding-house?"</p>

+

+<p>"Oh, yes; all this land's hers and the

+orchard."</p>

+

+<p>Phil closed the dingy door and walked around

+back of the cottage. Apparently, Granny Foster

+had liked the view of the open ocean, contrary

+to the taste of most of the women on the

+island, who had good reason to dread its mighty

+power. At any rate, while the front of the little<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_363" id="Page_363">[363]</a></span>

+house grew straight out of the grass, the back

+had once boasted a piazza, which had fallen

+away and capsized in the field which ran down

+to the water's edge.</p>

+

+<p>"What a view your old lady had!" said Phil,

+standing still and listening to the rustling leaves

+that whispered in the orchard.</p>

+

+<p>"'Tis a sightly place," said Eliza.</p>

+

+<p>The artist looked with starry eyes over the

+little cottage again and then at his companion.</p>

+

+<p>"It's wonderful," he said.</p>

+

+<p>"'M-h'm," agreed Eliza; "and it'll do you all

+the good in the world if you can only stay

+here."</p>

+

+<p>Phil's radiant smile beamed upon her.</p>

+

+<p>"Why, I'm going to stay. Can't you see

+what I'm thinking?"</p>

+

+<p>"No," replied Eliza, staring at him curiously.</p>

+

+<p>"I've found my cave." He waved his hand

+toward the chicken-house. "Do you think

+Jennie'll let me have it?"</p>

+

+<p>"Mr. Philip!" exclaimed Eliza distractedly,

+clasping her hard hands as his meaning broke

+upon her. "There ain't any use to talk about it

+even! How could I ever clean that place for

+you!"</p>

+

+<p>"I shan't let you touch it! Hurrah!" ex<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_364" id="Page_364">[364]</a></span>claimed

+the artist, turning a somersault in the

+grass and coming right-side up so suddenly that

+Eliza blinked.</p>

+

+<p>"Oh, my sorrows and cares!" she mourned;

+"it's the craziest idea"&mdash;</p>

+

+<p>"When, when did you say she's coming?"</p>

+

+<p>"To-morrow. Dear, dear!" Eliza was half

+laughing and half crying.</p>

+

+<p>"Then I've only to wait one night. Oh, it's

+too good to be true, like everything else that

+happens to me." Another flight of long arms

+and legs accompanied by a whoop of joy, and

+once more Phil was right-side up and catching

+Eliza by the arm.</p>

+

+<p>"Let's go and tell Mrs. Wright," he exclaimed,

+and hurried his companion toward the

+farmhouse, where Mrs. Wright was sitting on

+the rustic bench.</p>

+

+<p>"He's crazy," declared Eliza. "Tell him so.

+There must be lots o' better places. That

+wouldn't smell good in a thousand years."</p>

+

+<p>But when Phil had divulged his great plan,

+Mrs. Wright nodded.</p>

+

+<p>"The very thing," she said. "I'm sure Jane

+will let you use it free, and be glad to have it

+put in shape. Then you can take as many or

+as few meals here as you like."</p>

+

+<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_365" id="Page_365">[365]</a></span></p>

+

+<p>Her calm, happy approval closed Eliza's lips

+in a desperate silence.</p>

+

+<p>"I must rush back to my hostesses," said

+Phil. "Hurrah for us, Eliza. I'll go to every

+boat to meet Jennie."</p>

+

+<p>He started across the field on a long, swinging

+run.</p>

+

+<p>"Splendid boy," mused Mrs. Wright, aloud,

+looking after him.</p>

+

+<p>Eliza had sunk on the bench, dumb.</p>

+

+<p>"Now, then," her friend turned to her; "see

+how you've helped him."</p>

+

+<p>Eliza's eyes snapped. "Do you mean to

+say," she retorted, speaking fast and defiantly,

+"that if I hadn't gone over to Mrs. Fabian's

+and given her the dishes, he wouldn't 'a' found

+that chicken-house?"</p>

+

+<p>Mrs. Wright smiled and shook her head.</p>

+

+<p>"There's only one thing I know, Eliza," she

+said with deliberation, "and that is that Love

+is Omnipotence, and that in every problem we

+mortals have the choice of looking down into

+error and discord, or up into Truth and Harmony."</p>

+

+<p>Eliza's breath caught in her throat, and she

+felt so strangely stirred that she rose abruptly

+and went into the house.</p>

+

+<hr class="chap" />

+

+<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_366" id="Page_366">[366]</a></span></p>

+

+

+

+

+<div class="chapter">

+<h2>CHAPTER XXI</h2>

+</div>

+

+<p class="ph3">THE SINGER</p>

+

+

+<p>The combination of at last having a definite

+aim in life, and the cutting rebuke received in

+his father's library, had caused Edgar Fabian

+to wake up.</p>

+

+<p>On the hot morning when he took the train

+for Portland, he even looked a little pale from

+the unwonted vigil of the night before. As he

+tossed on his bed in the small hours, he had

+fretted at the heat, but it was not temperature

+that made him survey the causes for his father's

+drastic words; and he recalled the emotion

+which Kathleen had not been able to conceal

+with a sort of affectionate dismay. Kathleen

+was a good sort, after all. She had worked for

+him, he knew, and mitigated the situation so

+far as she could.</p>

+

+<p>"Father wants to be shown, does he?" he

+thought, clenching his teeth. "Well, I'll show

+him. I will."</p>

+

+<p>His soul was still smarting when he boarded

+the train in the breathless station and the<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_367" id="Page_367">[367]</a></span>

+porter carried his suitcase to his chair in the day

+coach.</p>

+

+<p>A group of girls were standing about the

+neighboring seat, but he did not regard them.

+One of them observed him, and for her the thermometer

+suddenly went up ten degrees more.</p>

+

+<p>"Hurry girls, you must go," she said, softly

+and peremptorily, moving with them to the

+end of the car. "How I wish you didn't have

+to!" Then, as they reached the door, the flushed

+one squeezed their arms. "That was Mr. Fabian,

+girls!" she added.</p>

+

+<p>"Where? Where?" they ejaculated, looking

+wildly about.</p>

+

+<p>"Back there in the very next chair to mine.

+Oh, get off, dears."</p>

+

+<p>They regarded the rosy face.</p>

+

+<p>"Slyboots!" exclaimed Roxana.</p>

+

+<p>"Indeed, I knew nothing of it!" declared

+Violet.</p>

+

+<p>"Very well." Regina spoke in hasty exhortation.

+"The sun shines hard enough for you

+to make all the hay there is. I've a great mind

+to throw a pump after you!"</p>

+

+<p>The friends slipped off just in time, and

+Violet waved them a laughing adieu; then her

+face sobered while her eyes shone. She could<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_368" id="Page_368">[368]</a></span>

+not go back to her place at once. The combination

+was more than flesh and blood could endure

+nonchalantly: her work finished, she starting

+for the island earlier than she had hoped, with

+the joyful anticipation of surprising her aunt,

+and, instead of journeying alone, to find <em>the</em>

+man beside her.</p>

+

+<p>Violet was extremely indignant with herself

+for calling Edgar <em>the</em> man. Never one thing had

+he done to deserve it. There was no one on earth

+to whom in reality she was more indifferent.

+She allowed conductors, porter, passengers,

+and luggage to stumble by and over her in the

+narrow passage while she reflected upon the

+utter uncongeniality of herself and Edgar

+Fabian; the gulf fixed between their lots, their

+habits, their tastes. A man who was so artificial

+that he couldn't like Brewster's Island.

+How could any girl with genuine feeling do

+more than politely endure him!</p>

+

+<p>Violet finally, having been bumped and trodden

+on until she realized that she was being

+scowled at by all comers, stepped under the

+portière into the ladies' room and looked in the

+glass. The neatest and trimmest of visions

+regarded her.</p>

+

+<p>"I don't care a snap how I look, but I am<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_369" id="Page_369">[369]</a></span>

+dreadfully warm," she thought, and taking a

+powder-puff from her mesh bag, she raised her

+veil and cooled her crimson cheeks and dabbed

+her nose; then she pinned the veil back closely;

+and gave her bright eyes a challenging and

+warning gaze.</p>

+

+<p>"If you dare!" she murmured, then moved

+out into the aisle again and sought her place.</p>

+

+<p>Edgar had hung up his hat, his back was to

+the car, and his gloomy eyes gazed out of the

+window. Violet sank into her chair, turning its

+back to him. "There!" she thought sternly,

+"we can ride this way all day. There's not the

+slightest necessity for recognition."</p>

+

+<p>An hour passed and this seemed only too

+true. She took up the copy of "Life" which

+Roxana had left with her, and looked through

+it with more grim determination than is usually

+brought to bear upon that enlivening sheet.</p>

+

+<p>Everything continued to be quiet behind her.

+She wondered if Edgar had gone to sleep; but

+what was it to her what he was doing? She

+became conscious that there were more strokes

+on the illustrations than the artists had intended.</p>

+

+<p>"I must take off my veil!" she reflected.</p>

+

+<p>Of course, no girl can take off her veil and hat<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_370" id="Page_370">[370]</a></span>

+without making some stir. She hoped she

+should not attract her neighbor's attention by

+these movements. She didn't.</p>

+

+<p>At last all was comfortably arranged, and

+she picked up the periodical which had been

+Regina's offering and looked at her chatelaine

+watch, wondering how much time had been

+wasted already.</p>

+

+<p>She never before heard of a man who stayed

+in his seat on the train unless he was an invalid.

+One would think he would at least walk up and

+down once in a while. She turned her chair a

+little away from the window and toward the

+aisle. A fat man who was her vis-à-vis glanced

+at her, and finding the glance most satisfactory,

+looked again, long enough to make her aware

+of him. She swung slowly back toward the

+window, but not so far that she could not command

+movements in the aisle.</p>

+

+<p>Of course, Mr. Fabian was asleep. He had

+probably been turning night into day in the

+festivities which society events had recorded

+as preceding Mrs. Larrabee's departure for

+Europe.</p>

+

+<p>The thought was a tonic. She loved to realize

+how insignificant and selfish was the life this

+young man led; making him not worth a second<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_371" id="Page_371">[371]</a></span>

+thought to a womanly woman who scorned to

+associate with any man to whom she could not

+look up, and he hadn't shaved off that blond

+pointed mustache, either; how she despised

+mustaches.</p>

+

+<p>"Why&mdash;why, Miss Manning." The interested

+greeting broke forth directly above her,

+and she started and looked up straight into the

+scorned mustache. "How wonderful," said

+Edgar. "I was just wondering who liked the

+'Century' better upside down than right-side

+up; then I noticed that whoever it was had

+pretty hair, so I looked again and saw it was

+you."</p>

+

+<p>"I"&mdash;stammered Violet, blushing violently

+and dropping the magazine,&mdash;"I think I was

+so sleepy I didn't know&mdash;I&mdash;where did you

+spring from?"</p>

+

+<p>"Just now from the smoking-room, but I'm

+here, right here in this chair next to you. Can

+you beat it? Are you for the island?"</p>

+

+<p>"Yes."</p>

+

+<p>"I, too. Great that we should meet. Let me

+turn your chair around. I was never so glad to

+see you."</p>

+

+<p>"Why? Were you bored?" Violet's tone

+and manner of courteous indifference were so<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_372" id="Page_372">[372]</a></span>

+excellent that they deceived the fat man, who

+regarded the <i lang="fr" xml:lang="fr">contretemps</i> over the top of his

+paper and felt quite chivalrously impatient of

+the "fresh guy" who had interrupted the

+young traveller's meditations; and heartily

+commiserated the girl for the coincidence which

+had made her the prey of an acquaintance.</p>

+

+<p>"No, not more bored than usual," replied

+Edgar, having arranged the chairs at the best

+angle for sociability, "but if you talk to me I

+may forget how I want to smoke."</p>

+

+<p>Violet raised her eyebrows. "Oh, I'm to be

+useful and not ornamental," she said with an

+icily sweet smile.</p>

+

+<p>"You can't help being ornamental," said

+Edgar, drumming nervously on the arm of his

+chair. "There, that's the last compliment I'm

+going to give you. I warn you. I'm a bear

+to-day. I'm sorry for you." The speaker was

+pale and Violet laid both pallor and nervousness

+to the door of the vivacious lady about to

+sail for foreign shores.</p>

+

+<p>"Yes," she replied, looking at him blandly. "I

+saw that your charming friend Mrs. Larrabee is

+leaving."</p>

+

+<p>Edgar looked around quickly. "Yes, she's

+leaving. I bade her good-bye last night."</p>

+

+<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_373" id="Page_373">[373]</a></span></p>

+

+<p>"Is that why you wish to smoke all the time?"

+asked Violet, with cooing gentleness.</p>

+

+<p>"All the time! Great Scott! I've had just

+one cigarette since I got up."</p>

+

+<p>"You said you had just come from the smoking-room."</p>

+

+<p>"Yes, but I hadn't been in. That's the

+trouble. I'm cutting it out."</p>

+

+<p>"Why? Have you made a virtuous vow?"</p>

+

+<p>"I'm afraid I'm in no mood for joking this

+morning." Edgar frowned and twisted his

+mustache.</p>

+

+<p>Violet spoke with laughing sweetness.</p>

+

+<p>"Nothing is more easy than to escape it,"

+she said, and deftly turned her chair with its

+back to him.</p>

+

+<p>He seized it by the arm and twisted it around

+again.</p>

+

+<p>"No, you don't," he said. "Forgive me; you

+know the stereotyped advice to newly married

+couples about the two bears; 'bear and forbear,'

+don't you? Well, remember it, please."</p>

+

+<p>"I don't see the parallel," said Violet coolly;

+"and anyway, is the advice directed entirely

+at the woman?"</p>

+

+<p>"No, I'm bearing with you now for turning

+your back to me, you who are going to teach<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_374" id="Page_374">[374]</a></span>

+me to clog when we reach the island." He gave

+her the smile designed to melt the icy heart.</p>

+

+<p>"In consideration," returned Violet, "for a

+continuous ripple of song."</p>

+

+<p>Edgar suddenly looked important, and gazed

+out of the window. Then he turned back to the

+girl who was regarding him.</p>

+

+<p>"What do you think of my voice&mdash;honestly?"

+he asked.</p>

+

+<p>"I think it is one of the most beautiful I have

+ever heard," she answered promptly.</p>

+

+<p>He nodded slowly. "I fished to some purpose,

+didn't I," he said gravely. "Well, since

+you really think that, and I've always admired

+your sincerity, you may be interested to know

+that I have given up business in order to cultivate

+it."</p>

+

+<p>There being nobody present who was employed

+in Mr. Fabian's office, the dignity of this

+statement was not impaired by hilarity; and

+Violet, greatly impressed, clasped her hands.</p>

+

+<p>"Oh, I'm so glad," she said. "All your

+friends will be so glad."</p>

+

+<p>Had she known it, she might have added,

+"and all your business associates"; but neither

+word nor look minimized the enthusiasm of the

+moment.</p>

+

+<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_375" id="Page_375">[375]</a></span></p>

+

+<p>Enough of Violet's faith and admiration

+shone in her speaking eyes to fall like balm on

+Edgar's wounded soul. He began to heal under

+it; began to mount into his wonted atmosphere

+of assurance.</p>

+

+<p>"I've been studying ever since January with

+Mazzini. I've kept quiet about it because,

+after all,"&mdash;the speaker spread his hands in a

+modest gesture,&mdash;"he might be mistaken in

+his extremely enthusiastic estimate."</p>

+

+<p>"Oh, no, no!" said Violet earnestly. Edgar

+drank more healing from the fountain of her

+eyes. "What shall you do? Go into opera?"</p>

+

+<p>"I don't know yet," replied the aspirant,

+with the air of one who was holding Mr. Hammerstein

+in the hollow of his hand, uncertain

+whether to throw him over or to be gracious.

+"I'm very much alone in this," he added,

+meeting the girl's gaze with an air of confidence.

+"Of course my father and mother and

+sister are willing; in fact, they are pleased that

+I have undertaken this."</p>

+

+<p>"Think of giving up smoking!" exclaimed

+Violet. "What a sacrifice that means to a man!

+I should think your family would see by that

+how in earnest you are."</p>

+

+<p>"Yes, they believe I am in earnest; but when<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_376" id="Page_376">[376]</a></span>

+one in a family is keenly temperamental and

+the others are not, there are only certain planes

+on which they can meet, you understand?"</p>

+

+<p>"By all means!" Violet understood perfectly.</p>

+

+<p>"I have certain ideas that I never divulge to

+them. They would only laugh. What would it

+mean to them if I were to say that I had purple

+moods&mdash;and red moods&mdash;"</p>

+

+<p>"Probably nothing," returned Violet, quickly

+and with close attention. "Black and green

+and blue are the only common ones."</p>

+

+<p>Edgar looked at her suspiciously. Had the

+fountain of healing admiration vanished, and

+was she laughing at him? Not at all. She was

+regarding him with a respect and awe which he

+could not doubt.</p>

+

+<p>"Explain the others to me. Do you think

+you could?" she asked.</p>

+

+<p>"I'm afraid not," he answered gently, "but,

+well, for instance, while in the purple mood I

+could never learn to clog. Does that mean anything

+to you?"</p>

+

+<p>"Ah, yes," returned Violet fervently. "I

+see. You would be too intense."</p>

+

+<p>"Exactly. In the red, I might. It would

+depend on which way it took me."</p>

+

+<p>His listener nodded earnestly. "Yes, yes.<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_377" id="Page_377">[377]</a></span>

+A berserk rage is red. They always see red in

+books."</p>

+

+<p>"But so is a glowing sunset red," said Edgar.

+"The red of joy. I see you understand. Oh,

+what rest it is to have people understand!"</p>

+

+<p>Violet glowed. Some memory recurred to

+her. "Does Mr. Sidney know about this?"

+she asked.</p>

+

+<p>Edgar shrugged his shoulders. "He is at the

+island with my people. They may have told

+him."</p>

+

+<p>The girl's rosy lips set. "Now," she wondered,

+"would he chuckle over foolish sketches

+of conceited robins! At all events, he would

+very soon give it up."</p>

+

+<p>The two travellers had a wonderful day together,

+undaunted by heat and cinders.</p>

+

+<p>Edgar gave Violet as dainty a luncheon as circumstances

+permitted, and when they reached

+Portland too late for the last boat, he left her

+at her hotel with the promise to call for her in

+the morning.</p>

+

+<p>The boat they took next day was the same

+one which bore Miss Jane Foster to her summer

+home; so when, after the cooling ride down the

+bay, they arrived at Brewster's Island and saw

+Philip Sidney and Eliza Brewster waiting with<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_378" id="Page_378">[378]</a></span>

+Kathleen, Edgar pointed Eliza out to Violet

+with amusement.</p>

+

+<p>"I wonder how Sidney enjoys his shadow,"

+he remarked, "I suppose she's trailing him all

+over the place."</p>

+

+<p>As Mrs. Wright had no expectation of her

+niece's early arrival, Eliza looked out with indifference

+from under her closely tied shade hat

+at the fair girl in neat tailor gown who stood

+by Edgar as the boat pulled in; and the exclamation

+of her companions was her first intimation

+that it was Violet Manning.</p>

+

+<p>Eliza stood quietly amid the greeting and

+laughing and explanations of the young people,

+and was introduced to Miss Manning; then she

+caught sight of Jane Foster, for whose eagerly

+expected face Phil had been gazing over the

+heads of everybody, notwithstanding that he

+had no idea what she looked like.</p>

+

+<p>"Better go home with the Fabians and come

+to us later," she suggested, speaking low to him.</p>

+

+<p>"Guess again, Eliza," he returned softly.

+Then he turned to Kathleen. "I'll not interrupt

+your first <i lang="fr" xml:lang="fr">tête-à-tête</i> with your brother.

+I'll walk up the hill with Miss Manning and see

+Mrs. Wright's face when we appear."</p>

+

+<p>Kathleen nodded her agreement, and when<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_379" id="Page_379">[379]</a></span>

+they all reached the road, she opened her eyes

+at the manner in which her brother parted from

+Violet. Neither spoke. They clasped hands

+and exchanged a look, which was, to say the

+least, unusual.</p>

+

+<p>"You and Miss Manning seemed to be giving

+each other the grip," she laughed when the two

+began their ascent slowly. "Do you belong to

+the same secret society?"</p>

+

+<p>His reply was still more amazing. "We

+do," he answered impressively. "You guessed

+right the very first time. That girl has more

+sense in a minute than the general run have in

+years."</p>

+

+<p>"I always liked her," returned Kathleen,

+wondering.</p>

+

+<p>As for Philip, he carried Violet's suitcase and

+Miss Foster's bag and received the jubilant

+chatter of the young girl with appreciative

+assent, casting sheep's eyes all the way up the

+hill at the modest owner of the chicken-house,

+who little suspected that the big handsome

+young man who was carrying her bag cared

+more to get one monosyllable from her than

+for all the pleasant things this pretty girl might

+say to him.</p>

+

+<p>Mrs. Wright, busy taking Eliza's place in the<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_380" id="Page_380">[380]</a></span>

+preparations for the early dinner, was not

+watching for the arrival, and the first warning

+she had of Violet's presence was two vigorous

+arms being thrown around her neck.</p>

+

+<p>Her first impression was that Jane Foster

+had an attack of emotional insanity, but in a

+moment she was returning the embrace.</p>

+

+<p>"My little girl, what does this mean?" she

+cried joyously. "Not a flower in your room.

+Nothing ready."</p>

+

+<p>"Yes, dinner is. I can smell it. Oh, Aunt

+Amy, <em>you</em> and vacation, and no city and no

+heat, and the divine island smell, and twenty-four

+hours in the day, and seven days in the

+week. Oh, it's too much happiness!" And

+Violet danced back into the living-room straight

+into the arms of Mr. Wright, who had just been

+washing his hands for dinner.</p>

+

+<p>"Right you are, Violet. No place like the

+island," he said heartily, while Eliza and Jane

+Foster regarded the newcomer with calm wonder.

+How could they know the glamour that

+was gilding all?</p>

+

+<p>Phil was so preoccupied, he scarcely noticed

+the girl's antics. His eyes were fixed with the

+most lover-like eagerness on Jane Foster's serious

+countenance.</p>

+

+<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_381" id="Page_381">[381]</a></span></p>

+

+<p>"Had you better ask her or I, Eliza?" he

+murmured, under cover of Violet's laughter.</p>

+

+<p>"You'd better not trust me," replied Eliza

+darkly, upon which Phil interrupted Miss

+Foster as she was starting for the stairs.</p>

+

+<p>"Might I speak to you one moment before

+you go up?" he asked.</p>

+

+<p>Her calm eyes turned to him. "You want

+board?" she asked.</p>

+

+<p>"No&mdash;not exactly. Would you mind coming

+outside a minute. I'd like to see you alone."</p>

+

+<p>Jane Foster looked into the brilliant face,

+wondering; then she followed him outside the

+door. Perhaps he wanted to buy the farmhouse.

+She had made some calculation before she

+reached the rustic bench; but his first words

+dashed her expectations.</p>

+

+<p>"Miss Foster, I'm an artist and like them

+all, at first, I haven't any money. I've been

+wondering if you'd let me camp down in your

+chicken-house and do some work. What rent

+would you want?"</p>

+

+<p>Jane Foster regarded him calmly. "'T ain't

+habitable," she said.</p>

+

+<p>"I'll make it so," he returned forcefully.</p>

+

+<p>"I can't imagine&mdash;" she began slowly.</p>

+

+<p>"You don't have to," he interrupted ar<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_382" id="Page_382">[382]</a></span>dently.

+"Imagining is my business." He

+beamed upon her with a smile that warmed her

+through and through from the chill of the boat.

+"If you haven't any other use for it just

+now&mdash;"</p>

+

+<p>"Oh, 'tain't any use," she said slowly.</p>

+

+<p>"Then I may?" Phil embarrassed Miss

+Foster terribly by seizing her hand.</p>

+

+<p>Violet observed them from a window. "Is

+Mr. Sidney proposing to Miss Foster?" she

+laughed, turning to Eliza.</p>

+

+<p>"Yes, he is, exactly," returned the latter,

+hanging up her shade hat.</p>

+

+<p>"Well, I can't imagine anyone refusing him,"

+said Violet.</p>

+

+<p>"I only hope she will," muttered Eliza; but

+the devout words were scarcely out of her lips

+when Phil came into the room like a cyclone

+and she was seized and swung up till her

+respectable head nearly grazed the ceiling.</p>

+

+<p>"It's mine," he cried. "Hurray!" and went

+out of the house again and across the field

+toward the boulder cottage.</p>

+

+<hr class="chap" />

+

+<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_383" id="Page_383">[383]</a></span></p>

+

+

+

+

+<div class="chapter">

+<h2>CHAPTER XXII</h2>

+</div>

+

+<p class="ph3">THE NEW STUDIO</p>

+

+

+<p>In spite of the incense Edgar had been receiving,

+he was still a somewhat chastened being;

+and he had no disagreeable remarks to make

+about Phil when Mrs. Fabian wondered why he

+stayed so long at the Wright cottage. He objected

+to the fact somewhat on his own account.

+No doubt Violet was entertaining Philip. She

+had the artistic soul and Phil was horribly good-looking.

+It was a soothing thought that he was

+practically penniless and that he must soon

+return to his labors in New York.</p>

+

+<p>"How long are you expecting Phil to stay

+here?" he asked his mother after a glance or

+two across the empty field.</p>

+

+<p>"He says only a week," replied Mrs. Fabian,

+"but I hope to make it at least two. He's daft

+about the island."</p>

+

+<p>"But he couldn't work here," said Edgar

+with conviction. "You've no place for oil and

+turpentine and splotches generally."</p>

+

+<p>"That's what he says," sighed Mrs. Fabian.<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_384" id="Page_384">[384]</a></span>

+"I told him this morning we'd give up the

+summer-house to him."</p>

+

+<p>Edgar faced her. "Where do I come in?" he

+asked. "I expect the summer-house to save

+your lives from me. I don't believe we can have

+two artists in the family."</p>

+

+<p>Kathleen caught the last words as she came

+downstairs. "Don't worry," she said lightly.

+"Phil will have none of us. He wants either a

+ten-acre lot or a stable."</p>

+

+<p>"Well, where is he?" asked Edgar, with some

+irritation. "I'm as hungry as a hunter."</p>

+

+<p>"And we have Aunt Mary's pretty things.

+Eliza gave them to mother."</p>

+

+<p>"You don't say so! Well, the Angel of Peace

+has moulted a feather on this island. There, I

+see Phil now, loping across the field. Do order

+dinner to be served, mother."</p>

+

+<p>The music-box was playing when the guest

+entered.</p>

+

+<p>"Oh, am I late?" he cried contritely, and

+took the stairs in three bounds.</p>

+

+<p>"How burned he is already!" laughed Mrs.

+Fabian. "You will be looking like that in a few

+days, Edgar."</p>

+

+<p>The latter was standing, high-chested and

+with repressed impatience, in an attitude his<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_385" id="Page_385">[385]</a></span>

+mother knew. He had not at all liked the radiance

+of Phil's countenance as the latter burst

+into the room.</p>

+

+<p>"This dinner is especially ordered for you,

+dear," said Mrs. Fabian soothingly, "from the

+clam soup to the strawberry shortcake."</p>

+

+<p>"When am I going to have any of it?" inquired

+Edgar. "Is it worth while to be formal

+here?"</p>

+

+<p>"Oh, he'll be down in one minute," said

+Kathleen; and indeed Philip soon appeared and

+they all seated themselves.</p>

+

+<p>"Last offence, really," said the guest gaily,

+"but one must be granted a little extra license

+when he's proposing."</p>

+

+<p>The waitress had placed the filled soup-plates

+before the family sat down; and Edgar promptly

+choked on his first mouthful. Violet had told

+him of meeting Phil in Gramercy Park. Where

+else and how often had the perfidious girl been

+with him?</p>

+

+<p>Kathleen swallowed her spoonful of soup, but

+it was not hot enough to account for the strange

+burning heat which suddenly travelled down her

+spine.</p>

+

+<p>Mrs. Fabian alone looked up. "Don't take

+our breath away like that," she protested.<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_386" id="Page_386">[386]</a></span>

+"Who is the woman? Violet Manning or Eliza

+Brewster?"</p>

+

+<p>"I dreamed of her all last night," returned

+Phil, eating hungrily. "I knew she was coming,

+and I could hardly wait to learn my fate.

+Didn't you notice that I merely played with

+my breakfast this morning?"</p>

+

+<p>"You ate like a hunter. Didn't he, Kathleen?"</p>

+

+<p>Phil laughed and raised his happy eyes to his

+hostess.</p>

+

+<p>"Well, you'd save a whole lot of dinner this

+noon, only that she said 'Yes.'"</p>

+

+<p>There was a miniature storm of hurt vanity

+in Edgar Fabian's breast. That was the way

+with these "lookers." Let them have scarce the

+price of a laundry bill, yet a girl couldn't resist

+them; and that gaze of almost awed admiration

+in Violet's eyes yesterday. It had meant nothing

+then but a tribute to genius. Phil should

+not have that look at his table daily! Edgar

+wouldn't stand it. He would match his singing

+against the other's painting, and time would

+show if Philip Sidney would have a walk-away.

+She couldn't be happy with a pauper like that,

+and she should be saved.</p>

+

+<p>As for Kathleen, she could not stop to criti<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_387" id="Page_387">[387]</a></span>cize

+Philip's blunt announcement. Whether he

+were jesting or in earnest his sudden words had

+flashed an awful light upon her own sentiments.</p>

+

+<p>"There's no depth to it," she thought now in

+defence of her pain. "I know in time."</p>

+

+<p>"Tell us more this minute," said Mrs. Fabian,

+"and stop eating, you unromantic creature!

+I didn't even suspect that you knew

+Violet Manning well. You sly-boots. I'm offended

+with you."</p>

+

+<p>"The lovely Violet!" exclaimed Phil, "I left

+her having an attack of emotional insanity over

+there."</p>

+

+<p>He looked up and met a gaze from Edgar,

+suggestive of locking horns; and remembered

+Gramercy Park, and Violet's sudden dignity.</p>

+

+<p>"But not on my account," he went on easily.

+"My inamorata's name is Jane!" He cast his

+eyes adoringly ceilingward. "Dear little name!

+Quaint little name! Jane!"</p>

+

+<p>The relaxation that travelled throughout

+Kathleen's limbs was as painful and as exasperating

+as the burn had been. Her eyes were fixed

+on her soup-plate, and she smiled.</p>

+

+<p>Edgar's teeth shone with the utmost glee.

+Phil wasn't such a bad sort after all. He regarded

+him with interest, waiting for the sequel.</p>

+

+<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_388" id="Page_388">[388]</a></span></p>

+

+<p>"Philip Sidney, don't be idiotic," said Mrs.

+Fabian. "My soup is getting cold waiting for

+you to explain yourself."</p>

+

+<p>"Why, Jane Foster came this morning, mother,"

+said Kathleen. "I'll help you out."</p>

+

+<p>"And I can really only stay with you a week,

+Aunt Isabel," added Phil.</p>

+

+<p>"She has taken you for a boarder? And all

+this fuss is about that?" asked Mrs. Fabian.

+"I should scarcely have thought you'd be so

+crazy to change my house for hers."</p>

+

+<p>"I know how Phil feels," said Edgar benevolently.

+"He wants to feel free to make smudges."</p>

+

+<p>"I do, Edgar, mind-reader that you are. Listen,

+then, all of you. I proposed to Jane that she

+let me use her chicken-house, and Jane, blessings

+on her, said the one little word to make me

+a happy man."</p>

+

+<p>Phil's radiant gaze was bent now upon Kathleen,

+who met it and nodded. "Just the

+thing!" she said, and her mother and brother

+started in on a Babel of tongues. Mrs. Fabian

+had forgotten the chicken-house. She had not

+been in that field for years; but Edgar approved,

+and altogether they joined in Phil's jubilation,

+and Mrs. Fabian related how she had prepared

+Pat to pack for just such an exigency.</p>

+

+<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_389" id="Page_389">[389]</a></span></p>

+

+<p>"The little house is awfully dilapidated,"

+said Kathleen. "Its piazza has fallen off; and

+I'm sure it leaks. But perhaps you can make it

+fit to hold your paraphernalia."</p>

+

+<p>"Aunt Isabel, I want you and Kathleen to

+keep away until I'm in order," said Phil impressively.

+"You'd try to discourage me and

+that would waste your time. Eliza is almost in

+tears, but I know what I want and what I can

+do."</p>

+

+<p>"A chicken-house!" exclaimed Mrs. Fabian,

+with second thoughts of disgust.</p>

+

+<p>"Yes, nobody can come near but Edgar; and

+if he does, he'll have to scrub."</p>

+

+<p>"Thank you very much," and the young

+man raised his eyebrows: "I have my own work

+to do, you may remember." Scrubbing chicken-houses

+he thought might even eclipse the

+memory of lighting the oil-stove.</p>

+

+<p>"Of course," returned Phil, all attention.

+"I'm extremely interested in this determination

+of yours. You certainly have the goods."</p>

+

+<p>"So they tell me," said Edgar, and twisted

+his mustache.</p>

+

+<p>"What are you going to do for furniture?"

+asked Mrs. Fabian. "You must at least have

+some chairs and a table."</p>

+

+<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_390" id="Page_390">[390]</a></span></p>

+

+<p>"And a lounge!" cried Phil,&mdash;"and an oil-stove."

+He laughed toward Edgar. "I'm going

+to live there, best of aunts, and maybe take my

+dinners with Jane, the star of my existence!"</p>

+

+<p>"Phil, you're crazy," said Mrs. Fabian, despairing.

+"You will continue to live here and

+work over there."</p>

+

+<p>He shook his head gaily. "Don't worry. Just

+watch; and if you have any attic treasures in the

+way of furniture, let me store them for you."</p>

+

+<p>When Mrs. Fabian really understood the enterprise

+Phil was embarking upon, she resigned

+herself, and finding an old suit of Mr. Fabian's

+which he had used for fishing, she bestowed it

+upon her guest.</p>

+

+<p>Then the work commenced. Eliza tried with

+a lofty sense of devotion to lend a hand and

+even besought the privilege; but she was repulsed.

+Philip induced Captain James to take

+an interest in his scheme and render him assistance

+at certain epochs in the reconstruction

+period, but the Captain and Jane Foster were

+the only persons privileged to come near the

+scene of operations; and Miss Foster's heart so

+far went out to her strong, determined young

+tenant that she began hunting in her own garret

+for things to help him along.</p>

+

+<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_391" id="Page_391">[391]</a></span></p>

+

+<p>With shovel and wheelbarrow, scrubbing-brushes,

+soapsuds, disinfectants, hammer and

+nails, Phil went to work.</p>

+

+<p>Eliza stood on her boundary-line, her hands

+on her hips, and watched, her long nose lifted,

+while loads of refuse and debris were patiently

+wheeled down to the edge of the bank and given

+over to the cleansing tide.</p>

+

+<p>Violet generously offered her window which

+gave upon the scene of operations, and the

+opera-glass with which she watched birds; but

+Eliza declined.</p>

+

+<p>"I won't spy on him," she said, adding vindictively,

+"but I'll look&mdash;the obstinate boy!"</p>

+

+<p>The first time Kathleen called, Violet took

+her up to her room and they sat in the open

+window.</p>

+

+<p>"The opera-glass is scarcely any use," she

+explained, "for he hasn't washed the windows

+yet and you can't see in at all."</p>

+

+<p>Kathleen laughed, but shrank back. "I don't

+want him to think we're watching," she replied.</p>

+

+<p>"Oh, he knows we all are; but even after he

+has gone at night, we don't dare to go and look

+in. We can't pass that rock there&mdash;not even

+Eliza."</p>

+

+<p>A charming tenor voice suddenly sounded on<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_392" id="Page_392">[392]</a></span>

+the air, singing an aria from "La Bohème." The

+girls looked and saw Edgar advancing toward

+the chicken-house, peering in curiously.</p>

+

+<p>Suddenly, Phil, attired in a sweater and Mr.

+Fabian's trousers which scarcely reached his

+ankles, dashed out at the caller and pressed a

+scrubbing-brush on his acceptance. Edgar suddenly

+stopped his lay and ran, laughing, toward

+Mrs. Wright's, where he found the girls and

+took them out on the water.</p>

+

+<p>"I should think you'd want to help him,"

+said Kathleen wistfully.</p>

+

+<p>"I do," replied Edgar, "but I restrain myself.

+Phil doesn't want me, really," he added;

+and he was certainly right. Phil had no time to

+stumble over Marcellines.</p>

+

+<p>A week passed. Jane Foster had been smiling

+and important for the last few days, but not

+for kingdoms would Eliza have questioned her.

+She had acquired an air of calm indifference,

+which belied the burning curiosity within.

+When Phil stopped in passing to speak with her,

+she talked of the weather. Mrs. Wright, on the

+contrary, expressed her eagerness to see what

+was going on so near and yet so far from

+them.</p>

+

+<p>"Pluto gets ahead of us," she said, "and<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_393" id="Page_393">[393]</a></span>

+you've trained him so well he never tells anything."</p>

+

+<p>Edgar happened to be present and he

+shrugged his shoulders. "Better hurry up, Phil,"

+he remarked, "and have your opening before

+interest wanes. You'll have an anti-climax the

+first thing you know."</p>

+

+<p>Mrs. Wright turned the gentle radiance of

+her eyes on the speaker.</p>

+

+<p>"We heard you last night, singing as you

+went home, Mr. Fabian," she said: "that

+lovely voice floating across the field will make

+us famous. People will hear it and wonder about

+the source, and begin to talk of the angel of

+Brewster's Island."</p>

+

+<p>"Wonderfully level-headed people, those

+Wrights," soliloquized Edgar, as he sauntered

+home. "A distinct acquisition to the island."

+Some thought occurred to him. "I wish father

+could have heard that," he mused.</p>

+

+<p>Phil lingered behind him. He had changed

+into his own clothes remarkably early this afternoon.

+There was an hour yet before supper-time.</p>

+

+<p>"Where are the rest of your family this afternoon?"

+he asked.</p>

+

+<p>"Violet went with Kathleen into the woods to<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_394" id="Page_394">[394]</a></span>

+get some specimens she wants for her microscope,"

+replied Mrs. Wright.</p>

+

+<p>"Where's Eliza?" Phil smiled as he asked it,

+and his companion smiled in answer.</p>

+

+<p>"In her room, I think."</p>

+

+<p>Phil raised his eyebrows interrogatively.</p>

+

+<p>"Yes, I think so, a little," she replied softly,

+nodding. "You see Jane has been there every

+day."</p>

+

+<p>"But that's all the rent I pay," protested

+Phil, all very quietly, for though they were

+standing outdoors, the windows were open.</p>

+

+<p>"Yes, but&mdash;it's a good deal for flesh and

+blood to bear," said Mrs. Wright with a twinkling

+glance. "The green-eyed monster ramps

+at the best of us, you know."</p>

+

+<p>"I wonder if I could see Eliza," said Phil in

+his natural voice.</p>

+

+<p>"Yes, I think she's in her room," returned

+Mrs. Wright. "I'll go and see."</p>

+

+<p>She disappeared, and Phil's eyes roved to

+the boulder cottage and fixed there. A smile

+touched the corners of his lips. He had not

+meant to carry prohibition too far with Eliza.

+It was genuine desire to save her trouble as well

+as the wish to surprise her after her vehement

+opposition to his scheme, which had made him<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_395" id="Page_395">[395]</a></span>

+warn her away. Now he was eager to make it

+right with her.</p>

+

+<p>"I remember now," said Mrs. Wright, returning;

+"Eliza went down the hill this afternoon.

+I don't know just when she'll come back;

+but won't you sit down and wait for her?"</p>

+

+<p>"Thank you, I don't believe I will. I'll come

+back later. I've been a runaway guest all this

+week," and with a smile of farewell, an eager

+look grew in Phil's eyes as he started to run

+across the field toward home.</p>

+

+<p>In all his arrangements, each time he had

+gained an effect he had thought of Kathleen's

+amusement and appreciation.</p>

+

+<p>As soon as he found that Eliza was out of the

+question, his eagerness burst forth to get the

+girls' point of view. He met Violet Manning

+returning from the woods escorted by Edgar.</p>

+

+<p>"I open the studio to-morrow," he cried

+gaily. "Will you come to my tea at three-thirty?"</p>

+

+<p>"Will we!" exclaimed Violet. "We couldn't

+have lasted much longer! I'm glad you let us

+see it 'before' so we can fully appreciate it

+'after.'"</p>

+

+<p>Violet was looking pretty and very happy.

+Phil considered for one moment whether he<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_396" id="Page_396">[396]</a></span>

+should ask her to pour. Even yet he felt that

+Kathleen lived in a remote rarefied air of elegance.

+Would one dare ask her to dispense tea

+in a chicken-house? But he wisely kept silence.

+Aunt Isabel might yet enter into what she continued

+to term his foolishness.</p>

+

+<p>With a wave of his hand, he fled on his way,

+and found Kathleen, flushed from her walk,

+carrying mosses to the table in the wind-break.</p>

+

+<p>"I've finished," he cried, vaulting over the

+railing and appearing beside her. "Want to see

+it?"</p>

+

+<p>She looked up into his expectant eyes.</p>

+

+<p>"Are we invited?" she returned.</p>

+

+<p>"To-morrow, everybody is; but I thought

+I'd like you to see it right now&mdash;if you aren't

+too tired."</p>

+

+<p>"A private view!" she exclaimed. "Who was

+ever too tired for that? But I'm of the earth

+so earthy, I shall have to go in and wash my

+hands."</p>

+

+<p>"No, no, don't," replied Phil softly. "You'd

+meet Aunt Isabel, and this is to be clandestine.

+Wipe your hands on this,"&mdash;he pulled

+his handkerchief out of his pocket,&mdash;"and

+come."</p>

+

+<p>Kathleen laughed and brushing her fingers<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_397" id="Page_397">[397]</a></span>

+free of traces of the treasured moss, she wiped

+them and they started across the field.</p>

+

+<p>"Here's hoping Violet and Edgar don't see

+us," said Phil, and took the path he had trodden

+so often straight to the hen-house, and

+which did not pass very near the Wrights.</p>

+

+<p>As they approached, Kathleen looked curiously

+at the little cottage with its sloping red

+roof, nestling close to the ground on the breast

+of the hill and sheltered by the tall Balm-of-Gilead

+trees. Their rustling leaves held always

+a murmur as of rain and to-day fleecy white

+clouds piled against the blue sky behind the

+cottage.</p>

+

+<p>As they drew near, Kathleen stopped and

+clasped her hands, and laughter bubbled from

+her lips.</p>

+

+<p>"That's clever!" she exclaimed heartily, and

+Phil's eyes danced as she met them.</p>

+

+<p>A swinging sign had been hung above the low

+door. Upon it strutted a splendid cock and

+above his proudly lifted comb appeared the

+legend:&mdash;</p>

+

+<p class="center">

+<span class="smcap">Villa Chantecler.</span>

+</p>

+

+<p>Phil threw open the low door with a sweeping

+bow; and Kathleen paused on the threshold<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_398" id="Page_398">[398]</a></span>

+with a low cry of surprise; then stepped into the

+cool, dusky interior.</p>

+

+<p>She found herself in a low-ceiled room with

+small-paned windows set high. A golden radiance

+streamed through, falling on the soft tone

+of floor and walls.</p>

+

+<p>On a table draped with dull green a tall

+candlestick and ivory-tinted plate reflected

+gleams of light.</p>

+

+<p>Kathleen sank on the cushions of a long, low

+divan.</p>

+

+<p>"You can paint Rembrandt portraits in

+here!" she said. "Don't explain how you've

+done it. I don't want to know. It is the most

+restful, delightful studio I've ever seen&mdash;and

+smelling of ambergris?"</p>

+

+<p>"No, only of bay leaves."</p>

+

+<p>Phil waited and let her look at the hangings,

+the cushioned chairs, and spindle legs of the

+quaint table.</p>

+

+<p>"You like it," he said after a pause of deep

+satisfaction.</p>

+

+<p>She looked up at him. "I am making genuflexions

+to you in my mind."</p>

+

+<p>He laughed. "But the best is yet to come. Sit

+where you are."</p>

+

+<p>He moved to the back of the room and opened<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_399" id="Page_399">[399]</a></span>

+a door toward the ocean. It was as if a brilliant

+panel had suddenly been set in the dark wall.</p>

+

+<p>Kathleen sprang to her feet.</p>

+

+<p>"Like enamel!" she said softly, and approached

+the opening.</p>

+

+<p>It led upon a terrace with a white railing.

+Tall white pillars at either end were crowned

+with dark-green bay.</p>

+

+<p>"Is it a stage-setting," she said, "or is it

+practicable?"</p>

+

+<p>"Come out and see."</p>

+

+<p>Together they moved outside and the wind

+came up out of the sea across the sleeping field

+and swept their faces and set the young leaves

+of the orchard to whispering with sweet fresh

+lips to their gnarled stems.</p>

+

+<p>Kathleen looked up at her companion, smiled

+and shook her head.</p>

+

+<p>"You have added poetry to our island," she

+said. "I didn't think any one could do that."</p>

+

+<p>Phil met her gaze.</p>

+

+<p>"And you," he said, "have put the finishing

+touch to my satisfaction."</p>

+

+<hr class="chap" />

+

+<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_400" id="Page_400">[400]</a></span></p>

+

+

+

+

+<div class="chapter">

+<h2>CHAPTER XXIII</h2>

+</div>

+

+<p class="ph3">PHILIP'S LETTER</p>

+

+

+<p><span class="smcap">Dearest Mother</span>:&mdash;You remember I told

+you I had found a pig's ear and was going to

+make a silk purse out of it despite the scepticism

+of the neighborhood. Behold the purse! I

+call it the Villa Chantecler. It has taken me

+the whole week, but the result&mdash;well, Kathleen

+says I have added poetry to the island, and

+I suspect she is authority on poetry, although

+that too is hidden in one of the locked rooms

+I've told you about. She gives just enough of

+herself to each person to fit every occasion; but

+the way she took the first view of the Villa yesterday

+was like everything else she does; perfection.

+I didn't know I was going to write that.

+I didn't know I thought it. That's the beauty

+of having some one to whom you can think

+aloud. You find out what you do think; but she

+and I touch only on the high places and when

+we leave the island we shall fly apart for the

+whole winter again; with pleasant memories,

+however. She has a positive talent for letting

+people alone. I love such people!</p>

+

+<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_401" id="Page_401">[401]</a></span></p>

+

+<p>Now, to tell you how I did my little trick.

+I could never have done it but for New England

+tenacity and thrift. They never throw

+anything away in this part of the world; and

+even importations like Aunt Isabel collect

+some lumber-room outcasts rather than injure

+the scenery by throwing them over the

+bank.</p>

+

+<p>Jane Foster, adorable landlady and Lady

+Bountiful that she is, turned me loose in her

+attic, and told me to help myself. So, first of all,

+I made the hen-house shine with cleanliness.

+Then Cap'n James helped me drag up its dejected

+piazza which had capsized in the neighboring

+field. We nailed it to the house and

+painted it white.</p>

+

+<p>Aunt Isabel had discarded a Crex rug, which

+I took for my studio, also a three-legged divan

+and chairs whose cane seats had surrendered.

+These I mended and cushioned. In Miss Foster's

+attic, I found what I should think were all

+the potato sacks that had ever been used in the

+Foster family. These made my hangings and

+cushions, although the poverty they implied

+nearly reduced Jane to tears. She implored me

+to use turkey red and found enough in the attic

+to begin on. The stuff smelled so new, I'm<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_402" id="Page_402">[402]</a></span>

+nearly certain the dear woman bought it and

+placed it there.</p>

+

+<p>I found an old spinet under the eaves. Its

+voice had long departed; but its charming legs

+and framework were intact. I placed some

+boards across that and used my green bathrobe

+for a cover. I took a straight length of pipe,

+fixed it into a wooden stand, topped it with a

+spool, bronzed the whole thing, and behold, a

+stunning candlestick in which stands a tall wax

+candle.</p>

+

+<p>Among the refuse I had carried out of the

+place, I had found charming old plates, heavy as

+lead, crackled with age, and cream and gray in

+color. These I disposed variously, and I am perfectly

+sure Cap'n James and Jane Foster have

+laid their heads together in order to condole

+over the fact that so pleasant a young man

+should have so gloomy and unpicturesque a

+taste when he expects to get his living by that

+same lame faculty. In fact, Cap'n James unburdened

+his mind one day. He said:&mdash;</p>

+

+<p>"Ain't you goin' to have anything cheerful

+'round here? It looks to me more fit for hens

+than it does for folks right now."</p>

+

+<p>Under the house I found lengths of drain-pipe.

+These I used on my terrace at the back<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_403" id="Page_403">[403]</a></span>

+of the Villa, overlooking the sea. When I had

+placed these pillars at each end of the railing

+and crowned them with the polished bay that

+grows luxuriantly here, I had a quite Italian

+effect, I assure you.</p>

+

+<p>Jane looks at me with pitiful eyes, and yesterday

+came down to the Villa with a framed

+chromo from her parlor wall.</p>

+

+<p>"I just as lieves you'd use it as not," she

+said, "and anyway you might put it up till the

+folks have seen the place. Your own paintin's

+can go up later." I almost kissed her, she pitied

+me so, and I could see that she agreed with

+Cap'n James, who said the place gave him the

+"Injun blues."</p>

+

+<p>There is a rough stairway that leads to the

+half-floored room above. I took a drain-pipe to

+make a newel post for that. It is surmounted

+with a bronze Mercury on a pedestal. The

+pedestal is a small, rusty tin wash-basin that I

+found under the house. I covered it with varnish

+and rolled it in sand, inverted it, and behold!

+I also gave an appearance of advanced

+age to the Mercury; so the general appearance

+is as of a treasure from Pompeii.</p>

+

+<p>If only you and father could see and feel the

+beauty and the heavenly quiet of the place. I<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_404" id="Page_404">[404]</a></span>

+have a kitchen, too. The door was a wreck, and

+I tacked upon it a dark ornate window shade

+which tones in with all the rest.</p>

+

+<p>Sometimes I feel as if I were only living to see

+you again. I know it's what I'm working for

+anyway; and I well know that you are working

+for me every day of your dear life.</p>

+

+<p>I love you.</p>

+

+<p class="right">

+<span class="smcap">Phil.</span>

+</p>

+

+<hr class="chap" />

+

+<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_405" id="Page_405">[405]</a></span></p>

+

+

+

+

+<div class="chapter">

+<h2>CHAPTER XXIV</h2>

+</div>

+

+<p class="ph3">PHILIP ENTERTAINS</p>

+

+

+<p>Philip still had Eliza on his mind, so when

+Kathleen had left him, he went back to the

+farmhouse and had the good fortune to meet

+Eliza returning home.</p>

+

+<p>"I'm looking for you!" he called cheerfully.</p>

+

+<p>She regarded him unsmiling. "Well," she remarked

+carelessly, "you look like a gentleman

+of leisure."</p>

+

+<p>"Just what I am. You guessed right. My

+Villa is finished and I've been waiting for you

+because I'm going to let everybody in to-morrow

+and I wanted you to see it with me alone."</p>

+

+<p>"My opinion ain't worth anything," said

+Eliza; "besides, it's pretty near time to get

+supper. Miss Foster went up to Portland to-day."</p>

+

+<p>"I know she did. That's why I'm in a hurry

+to take you into the studio before the boat arrives.

+You know how discouraging you were,

+Eliza, and I wanted to surprise you. I'd have

+liked to surprise everybody, but, of course, I<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_406" id="Page_406">[406]</a></span>

+hadn't the nerve to keep Miss Foster out. The

+rent I pay didn't warrant it." The speaker

+twinkled down into Eliza's unresponsive eyes.

+"I'm going to give a tea to-morrow and I want

+to talk it over with you."</p>

+

+<p>They had strolled near to the rustic bench

+where Mrs. Wright was still sitting with her

+work.</p>

+

+<p>"Eliza is going with me to have a private

+view of the Villa," said Phil. "Your turn to-morrow.

+I'm going to give a tea. Will you

+come?"</p>

+

+<p>"Most assuredly," answered Mrs. Wright.

+"As soon as you cleaned those windows, my

+curiosity began to effervesce."</p>

+

+<p>"I can't go now," said Eliza. "I've waited

+this long, I guess I can wait till to-morrow. I've

+got to get supper."</p>

+

+<p>Philip threw an arm around her and drew her

+forward.</p>

+

+<p>"Boarders have come, Mr. Philip," she exclaimed.

+"They'll see you."</p>

+

+<p>"I hope they will," he responded firmly. "If

+they don't know I love you, it's the best way to

+tell them."</p>

+

+<p>Eliza walked along stiffly, perforce, toward

+the forbidden ground.</p>

+

+<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_407" id="Page_407">[407]</a></span></p>

+

+<p>"Yes, I thought I'd make a grand splurge to-morrow,

+and give a tea," he continued. "I

+want you to preside."</p>

+

+<p>"Do what?"</p>

+

+<p>"Pour. I want you to pour for me."</p>

+

+<p>"H'm. Ridiculous! Let one of the girls do it."</p>

+

+<p>"Well, just as you say. Now, then," they

+were drawing near the little house, "prepare!

+Be a good sport now, and own yourself wrong if

+you think you are. See my shingle?"</p>

+

+<p>Eliza's eyes followed his gesture and caught

+sight of the crowing cock.</p>

+

+<p>"H'm," she said; then they went inside.</p>

+

+<p>Eliza looked about in silence for a minute.</p>

+

+<p>"It's clean," she said at last; and Phil knew

+she was moved to catch at a word of praise as

+one says of a neighbor's plain and uninteresting

+baby, "How healthy he looks!"</p>

+

+<p>He began explaining his devices to Eliza and

+her heart was touched by his joy in all this

+cheap gloom.</p>

+

+<p>By the time he opened the back door, she was

+ready to weep over him; and she said:&mdash;</p>

+

+<p>"That's a real sightly piazza."</p>

+

+<p>Then they moved into the little kitchen.</p>

+

+<p>"I've been waiting for you to tell me what to

+do here," said the artist, and Eliza rose to the<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_408" id="Page_408">[408]</a></span>

+bait and began pulling things about and showing

+him where shelves must be placed.</p>

+

+<p>"How are you goin' to give a tea," she asked,

+"with one broken mug?"</p>

+

+<p>"Borrow cups and saucers from Aunt Isabel.

+That's easy; but," he looked down at Eliza,

+whose face had regained its usual alertness, "it

+occurred to me that perhaps I have some of my

+own&mdash;those that you packed for me and that

+ran away to the island."</p>

+

+<p>"Mr. Philip, I'm a fool to forget those!" responded

+the other, after gazing at him in silence.

+"You shall have every one of 'em. They're all

+mixed in with the Foster things. I'll pick 'em

+out; and we'll lend you all you need beside."</p>

+

+<p>"Would it interfere with supper proceedings

+if we were to do it right now?"</p>

+

+<p>"Law! it ain't time to get supper yet," responded

+Eliza, so promptly that, as they hurried

+out of the door, Phil stooped to break a long

+blade of grass to bite.</p>

+

+<p>A vigorous search was at once instituted for

+the china, and Phil and Eliza carried it down to

+the studio; and as they went, Mr. Wright came

+up from the water and joined his wife.</p>

+

+<p>"We're to be let in to-morrow," she said.

+"He has finished."</p>

+

+<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_409" id="Page_409">[409]</a></span></p>

+

+<p>"Well, it's been a job," remarked Mr.

+Wright, who had occasionally sat on a log and

+watched Phil at his roof-mending or some other

+strenuous part of the work.</p>

+

+<p>"Yes, he ought to succeed," said Mrs.

+Wright. "He hasn't a lazy bone in his body."</p>

+

+<p>"There aren't many of us that have at his

+age," remarked Mr. Wright. "Are there,

+Pluto?"</p>

+

+<p>The cat had run to meet him like a dog.

+For him the scent of Mr. Wright's fishing trousers

+was as the perfume of Araby; and he followed

+him to the room in the shed where his

+friend changed them for habiliments more generally

+agreeable.</p>

+

+<p>At last Phil returned to the boulder cottage

+where he found Mrs. Fabian and Kathleen in

+the wind-break. The latter was working at the

+table, sorting the moss specimens for her slides.</p>

+

+<p>She looked up at him now with a new realization

+of his powers.</p>

+

+<p>"Well, you said this morning to-day would

+finish the work," said Mrs. Fabian, closing her

+novel on her finger for a mark. "Are you

+through?"</p>

+

+<p>"As nearly as I ever shall be," he replied,

+throwing himself into a chair near Kathleen's<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_410" id="Page_410">[410]</a></span>

+table and regarding her deft fingers at their

+work.</p>

+

+<p>"Well, I'm glad," said Mrs. Fabian, "for

+we've seen nothing of you. I like the way you

+visit us."</p>

+

+<p>He looked at her quickly to see if there were

+feeling behind the accusation.</p>

+

+<p>"Now, you'll have to stay on a week when

+you are not so preoccupied."</p>

+

+<p>"Not if he doesn't wish to, mother," said

+Kathleen, going on with her work. Her cheeks

+were still flushed from the warm tramp to the

+woods; the red glints in her hair shone lustrous.</p>

+

+<p>"It does look like making use of you, doesn't

+it?" he said impetuously. "But you're so good

+to me, both of you. To-morrow you'll forgive

+me, Aunt Isabel, when you see I have a place to

+work and trouble no one. I do hope it won't

+rain."</p>

+

+<p>"Oh, no," said Kathleen, handling a tiny bit

+of moss. "The moon holds the weather."</p>

+

+<p>Mrs. Fabian laughed. "Kathleen, the astronomer,"

+she said.</p>

+

+<p>The girl nodded. "It may not be a scientific

+way to put it, but I've always noticed it here.

+It will be full to-morrow night. The weather

+won't change till the moon does."</p>

+

+<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_411" id="Page_411">[411]</a></span></p>

+

+<p>"Delightfully consoling," said Phil, continuing

+to watch her averted face. It seemed to him

+this was the first time since Christmas night

+that his mind had been sufficiently at leisure

+from itself to concentrate upon her. He suddenly

+remembered that she used to like cigarettes.

+He had not yet seen her use one. Perhaps

+she was aiding Edgar in the stern limit which he

+was imposing upon himself.</p>

+

+<p>"I wonder," he said, "if either of you would

+pour for me at my grand tea to-morrow."</p>

+

+<p>Kathleen did not look up, but her cheeks

+grew warmer while she manipulated the moss.</p>

+

+<p>"Oh, a tea in the chicken-house," laughed

+Mrs. Fabian.</p>

+

+<p>The light jeering tone struck Kathleen as

+coming at a particularly unfortunate moment.</p>

+

+<p>"I will. Be glad to," she said heartily.</p>

+

+<p>"Whom are you going to invite? The fish?"

+laughed Mrs. Fabian.</p>

+

+<p>Phil's naïveté was dashed by her tone. Kathleen

+felt it.</p>

+

+<p>"Mother's jealous, Phil," she said, "because

+she has seen so little of you all the week. She is at

+fever heat of curiosity as to what you have been

+doing; and as for tea! Mother's an inebriate.

+She won't leave any for the fish. You'll see."</p>

+

+<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_412" id="Page_412">[412]</a></span></p>

+

+<p>Phil looked at the speaker gratefully, and

+leaned toward her a little. "I have the right

+barrel at last," he said. "The one that ran

+away to the island. Do you remember?"</p>

+

+<p>His eyes were so very speaking that Kathleen

+dropped hers to the moss. She nodded and

+smiled.</p>

+

+<p>"It knew where it ought to go, didn't it?"

+she returned.</p>

+

+<p>Mrs. Fabian's countenance had sobered. She

+knew the descendant of the Van Ruyslers so

+well that she understood that she had offended.</p>

+

+<p>"Can't one make a bit of fun once in a

+while?" she asked in injured tones of Kathleen

+when next they were alone.</p>

+

+<p>"Yes, once in a while," answered the girl,

+and kissed her.</p>

+

+<p>"It'll be something funny for you to look

+back upon when you come out, Kathleen, that

+your first function after graduating took place

+in a chicken-house."</p>

+

+<p>"I hope I shall not be homesick for it,"

+thought the girl; but she only smiled.</p>

+

+<p>"Kathleen is certainly touchy about Phil,"

+mused Mrs. Fabian. "She glared up at me just

+the way she did last fall when I wanted to get

+Aunt Mary's silver. She is the queerest girl!"</p>

+

+<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_413" id="Page_413">[413]</a></span></p>

+

+<p>The moon or something else did hold the

+weather and the artist could have had no better

+day on which to give his proof that where

+there's a will there's a way.</p>

+

+<p>The company swarmed through the little

+house, laughing, admiring, questioning. At last

+they stood on the terrace.</p>

+

+<p>"My dear boy!" exclaimed Mrs. Wright.

+"You could have no better view if you were a

+millionaire!"</p>

+

+<p>"The only thing lacking," cried Violet, "is a

+white peacock. Where is the white peacock?"</p>

+

+<p>"How about it, Edgar?" asked Phil.

+"Couldn't you stand out there for the lady?"</p>

+

+<p>"The nightingale could never deceive us,"

+said Mrs. Wright, bending her universally loving

+gaze on Edgar, whose chin was held rather

+higher than usual.</p>

+

+<p>"That's so," cried Phil. "Sing us something,

+Edgar, right here and now."</p>

+

+<p>"Certainly," responded the gifted one, regarding

+his host as he launched easily into song:&mdash;</p>

+

+<div class="poetry-container"><div class="poetry"><div class="stanza">

+    <div class="verse">"'I'm looking for a lobster and I think you'll do.'"</div>

+</div></div></div>

+

+<p>Mrs. Fabian did not join in the laugh. She

+had moved inside, and her lorgnette was fixed

+on a closed door.</p>

+

+<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_414" id="Page_414">[414]</a></span></p>

+

+<p>"I must see in there, Phil," she said.</p>

+

+<p>"Of course, you must, Mrs. Bluebeard," he

+replied. "You may all go in this once, but it's

+the last time ever, I warn you, for that is my

+kitchen."</p>

+

+<p>They swarmed through to the little room,

+where Edgar perceived with a groan an oil-stove

+burning cosily in the midst of canvas, paints,

+easel, et cetera.</p>

+

+<p>"<em>I'll</em> never go in again, I promise you," he

+declared.</p>

+

+<p>At the host's invitation, the company arranged

+themselves on the rejuvenated chairs

+and couch, and Kathleen made tea at the

+spindle-legged table.</p>

+

+<p>Mrs. Fabian's lorgnette was bent upon the

+newel post.</p>

+

+<p>"However did you make him stand up,

+dear?" she asked, regarding the Mercury which

+had winged his way from her garret. "We

+haven't been upstairs yet, remember."</p>

+

+<p>"And you won't go till you're tired of life,"

+returned the host. "It abounds in trapdoors

+and, aside from my affection for you, the furniture

+down here couldn't stand being fallen on."</p>

+

+<p>Being turned ceilingward, Mrs. Fabian's

+lorgnette discovered that branches of bay had<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_415" id="Page_415">[415]</a></span>

+been woven through the rafters in some places.

+She shrugged her shoulders.</p>

+

+<p>"You'll get rained on in this dilapidated old

+place," she said. "A few bay leaves can't

+deceive me."</p>

+

+<p>"Madam! Are you aware that you are talking

+about the Villa Chantecler? That roof is as

+tight as a drum."</p>

+

+<p>Mrs. Fabian stirred the lemon in her substantially

+thick cup; and looked admiringly at

+the energetic host.</p>

+

+<p>"I only hope, Phil," she sighed, "that you

+aren't too practical to succeed in your profession.

+So few artists would know how to mend a

+roof or even remember the necessity for it. I

+hope it isn't a bad sign."</p>

+

+<p>Edgar, sitting with Violet on the railing,

+drinking tea, heard his mother's comment.</p>

+

+<p>"A good deal in that, I think," he remarked

+softly. "I've never seen any of Phil's things

+except that rough black-and-white stuff he has

+in there. He never seemed to me to have a particle

+of temperament."</p>

+

+<p>Violet was inclined to agree. She had seen

+nothing amusing in Philip's chaff about the

+peacock. She thought it quite as silly as were

+the other comments on the robin.</p>

+

+<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_416" id="Page_416">[416]</a></span></p>

+

+<p>"I wish you would sing something," she said.

+"Do, and surprise them."</p>

+

+<p>"I can't. I haven't even a banjo."</p>

+

+<p>"I've noticed you have everything over at

+the house: banjo, guitar, mandolin, everything.

+You must leave one of them over here. Music

+would sound perfectly charming in this place."</p>

+

+<p>"<em>Any</em> music?" asked Edgar, smiling.</p>

+

+<p>She returned his look from the tops of her

+eyes. "Bold fisherman," she replied.</p>

+

+<p>Her companion scanned the horizon: "The

+moon is going to be great to-night. It looks as

+if it would rise clear out of the water. Want to

+go for a sail?"</p>

+

+<p>"I don't believe I can," replied Violet. "I

+have an engagement."</p>

+

+<p>"An engagement!" returned Edgar, sceptically.

+"Are you going to read aloud to your

+aunt?"</p>

+

+<p>Violet smiled at him provokingly. "You're

+not the only man on this island," she remarked.</p>

+

+<p>A quick flush mounted to Edgar's forehead.</p>

+

+<p>"Phil?" he asked quickly.</p>

+

+<p>She nodded, mutely, and took the last swallow

+of her tea.</p>

+

+<p>Her companion looked as if he might be in the

+throes of the red mood.</p>

+

+<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_417" id="Page_417">[417]</a></span></p>

+

+<p>"That's beastly," he said, dismayed to think

+that in all Phil's preoccupation he had had sufficient

+forethought to secure Violet for this

+perfect evening. "Since when?" he demanded

+fiercely.</p>

+

+<p>"Since yesterday," she returned demurely,

+apparently unconscious that the arrangement

+caused annoyance.</p>

+

+<p>"Very well, then, we'll take the yacht," he

+said, "and let the crowd go. Phil can help me

+sail her. I was intending to take the motor-boat

+and you alone."</p>

+

+<p>"I don't know whether Mr. Sidney would

+care to," she returned coolly, "but it's very

+kind of you."</p>

+

+<p>Edgar regarded her, baffled. "What&mdash;what

+had you planned to do?" he asked. He knew

+the question was inexcusable and braced himself

+for a snub; but the sweet Violet, exultant at

+his open disturbance, administered none.</p>

+

+<p>"Nothing special," she replied. "Mr. Sidney

+is invited to dine with us, in celebration of the

+completion of the improvements he has been

+making on the estate. That's all."</p>

+

+<p>"Oh, absurd!" declared Edgar. "As if you

+couldn't dine any foggy night. Well, you don't

+need to stay after dinner. He isn't your guest."</p>

+

+<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_418" id="Page_418">[418]</a></span></p>

+

+<p>Violet regarded him with an ironical smile.</p>

+

+<p>"I've been taught manners," she said. "Beside,

+perhaps I want to stay. Didn't that

+occur to you?"</p>

+

+<p>Edgar scowled and looked off on the ocean

+and back again. "I don't want to take the

+whole family out in order to get you," he said,

+fuming.</p>

+

+<p>"I wouldn't," she answered, laughing. "It

+isn't worth the trouble."</p>

+

+<p>Her companion clenched his even teeth. He

+didn't want to risk Philip's meandering about

+the island alone with Violet on such an evening

+as this was going to be. He would be sure to talk

+of his work and his hopes, and her confoundedly

+soulful eyes would look back at him comprehendingly,

+and a precedent would be established

+and&mdash;</p>

+

+<p>"You see, Mr. Sidney expects to take all his

+dinners with us after he begins working here,"

+went on Violet sweetly. "It will be so convenient

+just to run across."</p>

+

+<p>Edgar gave her a furious glance, but the simplicity

+of her regard was complete.</p>

+

+<p>Mrs. Wright came to the open door. "We're

+going now, Violet," she said. "Will you come?

+Our host positively refuses to allow us to help<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_419" id="Page_419">[419]</a></span>

+him put things away, and he will follow a little

+later. I've been hoping," turning to Edgar,

+"that you might be moved to sing as you sat out

+here."</p>

+

+<p>The young man had sprung to his feet and

+was trying to banish evidences of the red mood

+from his brow.</p>

+

+<p>"I wanted to take Violet out on the water to-night,"

+he said. "It seems there's an obstacle."</p>

+

+<p>"Yes, a large one," returned Mrs. Wright

+pleasantly. "Lots of evenings coming, but I

+don't know about letting my little girl go on the

+water at night."</p>

+

+<p>"I guarantee her safety. I've come here ever

+since I was a baby, Mrs. Wright, and I'm an

+amphibious animal; but if Sidney should ever

+suggest it, remember he's a landlubber. Half

+the time they don't know enough to be afraid."</p>

+

+<p>"Very true," returned Mrs. Wright, with her

+natural graceful sweetness of manner, which

+at least succeeded in making Edgar feel rude.

+"Come, dear," turning to Violet, "I'd like to

+have you come with me."</p>

+

+<p>So the girl rose and yielded her cup to Edgar,

+who took it with dignity. He, the ex-cavalier of

+Mrs. Larrabee, not to be able to mould circumstances

+among these poor and provincial people!</p>

+

+<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_420" id="Page_420">[420]</a></span></p>

+

+<p>He took leave of Philip, and tendered his

+congratulations with an air fitted to grace marble

+halls. "I believe," he added, "you don't

+dine at home to-night."</p>

+

+<p>"No," replied Phil, "Miss Foster is very

+kindly entertaining her tenant."</p>

+

+<p>Edgar pricked up his ears; and instantly ran

+after Violet. "Phil says Jane Foster invited him,"

+he said vehemently. "I shall call for you by eight

+o'clock. I'll take the best care of her, Mrs.

+Wright. I assure you I will, and bring her in

+early."</p>

+

+<p>He was off before he could be gainsaid, and

+Mrs. Wright noticed that Violet's expression

+was such as might be worn by a well-grown kitten

+who had been hilariously entertained in a

+game with a mouse which was as yet unfinished

+and highly promising.</p>

+

+<p>The events of the week had thrown light on

+the happiness Violet evinced the day of her

+arrival under Edgar Fabian's escort. Mrs.

+Wright's tenderness for her orphan niece was

+alertly watchful. She put an arm around her

+now and drew her away from the house, and

+they walked slowly across the grass.</p>

+

+<p>"It really is perfectly safe to go on the water

+with Edgar," said the girl, half laughing.</p>

+

+<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_421" id="Page_421">[421]</a></span></p>

+

+<p>"For me, it might be," returned Mrs. Wright

+quietly.</p>

+

+<p>Violet blushed deeply, and dreaded what

+might be coming.</p>

+

+<p>"The Fabians are nice people," went on her

+aunt, "very rich people and able to give you

+pleasures, and I like you to be friendly with

+them; but I'm a little afraid of this situation."</p>

+

+<p>"You needn't be," burst forth the girl impulsively.

+"Edgar doesn't really care much

+about me."</p>

+

+<p>"That's the trouble," said Mrs. Wright

+quietly.</p>

+

+<p>The reply was so unexpected that Violet felt

+a sharp twinge of mortification and a spontaneous

+desire to show her aunt that she was

+wrong. There were lots of small proofs that she

+might give her&mdash;</p>

+

+<p>"No," she returned, suddenly serious. "He

+cares very much for me in a certain way: my

+understanding of his gift&mdash;and his hopes&mdash;and

+his career. His family mean to be kind, but

+they're so unsympathetic. They're not temperamental

+like him and&mdash;"</p>

+

+<p>Violet paused because Aunt Amy was smiling.

+It was unkind to smile at such a time. Very

+well! Her lips should be sealed from this time<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_422" id="Page_422">[422]</a></span>

+on. She would never again speak to her about

+Edgar!</p>

+

+<p>"He is very attractive even with all his conceit,"

+said Mrs. Wright, who was quite conscious

+that the girl's slender body had suddenly

+a resentful rigidity. "A beautiful tenor voice

+and conceit seem to be inseparable in this mundane

+sphere; and if my little girl has understood

+and responded to his outpourings about himself

+she is charming to him." Mrs. Wright paused

+and then went on: "Look around, Violet, and

+realize that you are the only girl here to whom

+he can show attention. Did he show you any in

+New York? Did he go out of his way for you?

+You fell right into his reach on the train and he

+took the gifts the gods provided; and they were

+very sweet gifts."</p>

+

+<p>The speaker squeezed her unresponsive listener,

+whose heart was beating hotly. "As a

+rule men are marauders," she went on. "As a

+rule, women are single-hearted, faithful. There

+are exceptions. I want to give you one piece of

+advice and I can't put it too strongly. Take it

+in and act upon it, and it may save you a world

+of hurt vanity, and possibly a broken heart. No

+matter how a man behaves toward you,&mdash;no

+matter how he looks, or what he does,&mdash;or<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_423" id="Page_423">[423]</a></span>

+what he says,&mdash;don't believe or even imagine

+that he loves you until he tells you he does, in

+so many words."</p>

+

+<p>There were tears in the baby-bachelor's blue

+eyes. Among the stormy emotions that filled

+her was the horrible suspicion that, instead of

+being a foreordained victor, the kitten might

+possibly in the end be the mouse's victim.</p>

+

+<p>"Now, Mr. Sidney," went on Mrs. Wright's

+calm voice, "is a man who I believe has hold of

+life by the right end."</p>

+

+<p>"He is always making fun of Edgar," burst

+forth Violet, her breath coming fast. "You

+heard what he said about the peacock."</p>

+

+<p>At this, Mrs. Wright fell a peg lower in her

+niece's estimation, for she laughed.</p>

+

+<p>"I knew what he meant," she answered, "but

+I couldn't let the lovely singer's feelings be

+hurt."</p>

+

+<p>"Knew what he meant!" exclaimed Violet,

+indignantly, and suddenly breaking away from

+her aunt's embrace, she ran toward the house

+and disappeared.</p>

+

+<p>Mrs. Wright followed the fleeing form with

+her eyes, and nodded gently.</p>

+

+<p>"I thought so. Only just in time," she said to

+herself. The seed was dropped, and even though<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_424" id="Page_424">[424]</a></span>

+the ground did have to be harrowed to get the

+necessary depth, it was better so.</p>

+

+<p>The evening was as beautiful as Edgar

+Fabian had foreseen. One of the many charms

+of Brewster's Island was the habit the wind

+had of lulling at sunset, often making the

+evening air milder than that of day.</p>

+

+<p>To-night the sun had sunk in a clear sky behind

+the White Mountains. All the family at

+the Wright cottage had come out after supper

+to see the Presidential Range, ninety miles

+away, silhouetted black against the golden

+glory.</p>

+

+<p>"One can breathe here," thought Philip.

+"One can breathe here." He wondered if

+Kathleen were watching the sunset.</p>

+

+<p>"Oh, but turn around," cried Violet suddenly.

+"This is a three-ringed circus. One

+should live on a pivot here on a clear night."</p>

+

+<p>Phil turned obediently, and saw the waters

+dashing against a huge disk of pale gold.</p>

+

+<p>Kathleen, lying in her hammock, arm folded

+beneath her head, was also watching the moon.</p>

+

+<p>Edgar sat near her on the steps, smoking his

+third cigarette that day. It was his rigid allowance.

+He saw dimly the figures come out from

+the Wright cottage and his first impulse was to<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_425" id="Page_425">[425]</a></span>

+stroll across and join them; but pride forbade.

+Supposing he were to get there just in time to see

+Violet walk off with Philip.</p>

+

+<p>"What a perfect evening!" said Kathleen

+lazily. "Go in and get the guitar, Edgar, and

+sing me something."</p>

+

+<p>Sing something! Edgar's teeth clenched at

+the thought.</p>

+

+<p>"I've practised such a lot to-day, I'm no

+good," he replied.</p>

+

+<p>"Why, I didn't hear you," she said.</p>

+

+<p>"No. I took my trusty pitch-pipe down in

+the woods and scared the birds. I have some

+mercy on you and mother."</p>

+

+<p>"What is your aim?" asked his sister. "What

+do you want to do? Concert work?"</p>

+

+<p>"Yes, perhaps. Mazzini says I could teach

+right now if I wanted to."</p>

+

+<p>"Teach?" repeated Kathleen, trying to speak

+respectfully, but smiling at the man in the

+moon, who grinned back as if he understood.</p>

+

+<p>"Of course, there's no necessity for that, so I

+shall simply prepare myself for public work;

+recitals; possibly go abroad for the prestige of

+study over there. Not that I need it but the

+name goes a long way, and if I should go into

+opera it is best to begin there."</p>

+

+<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_426" id="Page_426">[426]</a></span></p>

+

+<p>The man in the moon grew redder in the face.

+So did Kathleen; but she knew that sublime

+self-assurance is an asset not to be despised.

+She looked at her brother's trim shapely head,

+rising from the white silk collar of his negligée

+shirt.</p>

+

+<p>"Does Mazzini really think you are already

+prepared to teach?" she asked.</p>

+

+<p>"Oh, yes. I had very few errors in method to

+unlearn, and he says, given a good voice, a good

+presence, and good looks, tact, and an attractive

+studio, pupils will come fast enough," replied

+Edgar carelessly. "He said he'd send me

+his overflow; but of course all that was in joke.

+He knows that it is no question of money with

+me."</p>

+

+<p>Kathleen ceased to smile at the moon, for her

+thoughts recurred to their father, meeting his

+problems in the heat of the great city. So far

+his letters had breathed no hint of trouble.</p>

+

+<p>"That's a glorious feeling, Edgar," she said

+soberly, "to feel certain that you can be independent."</p>

+

+<p>"Yes," he returned, speaking low, and holding

+the cigarette between his fingers. "I said I'd

+show father, and I will."</p>

+

+<p>The remainder of his thoughts he did not<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_427" id="Page_427">[427]</a></span>

+voice; but there was some one else he meant to

+show. The vivacious Mrs. Larrabee who had

+dared to use him when it suited her and then

+discard him with raised eyebrows and a scornful

+word. She should see him win the plaudits

+of the multitude; then, when she endeavored to

+add her incense and claim to have been his inspiration,

+it should be his turn to show cold

+disdain. He ground the even teeth at some

+memory.</p>

+

+<p>"I want to tell you, Edgar," went on Kathleen

+in the same serious tone, "that I am proud

+of your determination; proud of your regular

+work; proud of your cutting down on smoking;

+and it will overwhelm me with joy to see you

+succeed."</p>

+

+<p>"Thanks, Kath," he returned. "I appreciate

+that."</p>

+

+<p>"And I also want to ask you not to make

+love to Violet Manning," went on the low, serious

+voice.</p>

+

+<p>Edgar was dumb, and now the man in the

+moon met <em>him</em> with a grin.</p>

+

+<p>"You know it will be only an idle pastime

+with you, and because she is the only girl here.

+It might mean a lot to her, and&mdash;it's a hard

+world for girls."</p>

+

+<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_428" id="Page_428">[428]</a></span></p>

+

+<p>Kathleen had not intended to end her appeal

+in that way, but the declaration broke from her.</p>

+

+<p>"She doesn't care a picayune for me," returned

+Edgar. "Don't you worry." He hoped

+his sister would contradict him; but she did not.</p>

+

+<p>"You might be able to make her," she said.

+"Be too manly to try, Edgar. Do, do be unselfish

+and honest."</p>

+

+<p>The earnest deliberation of her tone caused

+her listener to reflect for a moment; and the

+man in the moon, by this time crimson in the

+face, met his frowning regard mirthfully.</p>

+

+<hr class="chap" />

+

+<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_429" id="Page_429">[429]</a></span></p>

+

+

+

+

+<div class="chapter">

+<h2>CHAPTER XXV</h2>

+</div>

+

+<p class="ph3">BY MOONLIGHT</p>

+

+

+<p>While Edgar was still frowning, and divided

+between consoled pride and a consciousness of

+guilt, a tall dark form came into sight in the

+moonlit landscape. It broke into a run as it

+neared the cottage, and with a sense of relief

+Edgar recognized Philip Sidney, who bounded

+over the piazza railing.</p>

+

+<p>Catching sight of Edgar sitting alone, he

+spoke eagerly:&mdash;</p>

+

+<p>"Has Kathleen gone anywhere?"</p>

+

+<p>"No, she's there in the hammock. How did

+you break away so early?"</p>

+

+<p>"I didn't think it was going to be easy," replied

+Phil half laughing, and looking toward the

+shadowy hammock where Kathleen in her white

+gown was watching him; "but we finished supper

+a long time ago, and&mdash;and have been talking

+ever since. We had told each other about

+everything we knew, and so I thought"&mdash;his

+voice trailed away&mdash;"well, I think I was

+homesick."</p>

+

+<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_430" id="Page_430">[430]</a></span></p>

+

+<p>"Why didn't you bring Violet with you?"

+asked Edgar.</p>

+

+<p>"I tried to; that is, I suggested that it was

+too heavenly a night to keep still, and asked her

+if she would like to go to walk&mdash;" As he talked,

+Phil kept his eyes on the white figure in the hammock

+and he spoke eagerly as if he were justifying

+himself. "But," he went on, "she said she

+had a headache and felt that she must excuse

+herself."</p>

+

+<p>Edgar looked up triumphantly at the man in

+the moon, but he refused to see the joke. His

+hilarious mood had changed. He beamed down

+now in pensive golden serenity with the usual

+remote benevolence for all lovers which has won

+his reputation.</p>

+

+<p>"What was there in that tea I made?" inquired

+Kathleen lazily. "Mother has the headache,

+too. Isn't it a shame on such an evening."</p>

+

+<p>"Too bad," said Phil perfunctorily. He approached

+the hammock and neither he nor

+Kathleen noted that Edgar made an unostentatious

+departure such as the comic papers describe

+as a cat-like sneak. Certainly Pluto

+could not have moved any more quietly, and his

+heart was gay.</p>

+

+<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_431" id="Page_431">[431]</a></span></p>

+

+<p>"Headache!" he thought, the even teeth

+broadly exhibited. "What that headache needs

+is the water-cure"; and the boarders sitting out

+in front of the Wright cottage heard the

+"Toreador Song" blithely whistled by some

+one coming across the field.</p>

+

+<p>When Edgar arrived at the farmhouse he

+looked about for a familiar figure. Among the

+little group, Eliza Brewster was the only one he

+knew. He approached her with his most

+debonair manner.</p>

+

+<p>"Good evening, Eliza. Will you please tell

+Miss Manning I am here?"</p>

+

+<p>"She's got the headache, Mr. Fabian."</p>

+

+<p>"So Mr. Sidney said; but I thought she

+might see me for just a minute. I want to tell

+her something important."</p>

+

+<p>"Well, that's too bad, 'cause she's gone to

+bed. I'll take any message you want me to,

+and give it to her in the morning. I'd rather

+not disturb her now 'cause I just took her up a

+pitcher o' water and she told me she was goin'

+to try to go to sleep."</p>

+

+<p>Edgar was so blankly silent that Eliza spoke

+again.</p>

+

+<p>"I'll call Mrs. Wright if you'd rather see her.

+She's in her room writin' a letter."</p>

+

+<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_432" id="Page_432">[432]</a></span></p>

+

+<p>"No, no, don't trouble yourself," said the

+visitor, lightly. "Good night."</p>

+

+<p>He moved away quickly toward the Villa

+Chantecler and made a détour around it. The

+little piazza overlooking the sea gleamed white

+in the moonlight. The bay leaves stood up

+crisp and polished. Edgar recalled the mocking

+in Violet's eyes as they had sat there this afternoon.

+To lose an evening like this. It was a

+crime!</p>

+

+<p>Coming out beside the orchard he looked up

+at the windows of Violet's room. They were

+dark.</p>

+

+<p>His hopeful vanity relinquished the hope that

+she had man&oelig;uvred to get rid of Phil in order

+to leave the coast clear for himself. He moved

+up the incline and threw himself down in the

+shadow. He could hear a stir at the front of

+the house. The lingerers in the moonlight were

+moving inside and he could see lamps twinkle in

+rooms where the shades were pulled down.</p>

+

+<p>In a few minutes more all lights vanished.

+Only the rising tide broke the stillness. Edgar

+had been giving himself over to dreams of a

+brilliant future in which his only handicap consisted

+of his father's money. Would the cynical

+blasé critics be able to be as fair to him as if<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_433" id="Page_433">[433]</a></span>

+he had been discovered among the peasants of

+Italy?</p>

+

+<p>Suddenly he realized that never would a

+more wonderful stage-setting be his than that

+which now surrounded him. He rose on his

+elbow and looked up again at Violet's windows.</p>

+

+<p>Then he began to sing. Into the girl's unrestful

+dreams the sound fell like balm:&mdash;&mdash;</p>

+

+<div class="poetry-container"><div class="poetry"><div class="stanza">

+    <div class="verse">"Drink to me only with thine eyes,</div>

+    <div class="verse">And I will pledge with mine."</div>

+</div></div></div>

+

+<p>She was wide awake suddenly and looking

+wide-eyed toward the open windows.</p>

+

+<div class="poetry-container"><div class="poetry"><div class="stanza">

+    <div class="verse">"Leave but a kiss within the cup</div>

+    <div class="verse">And I'll not ask for wine."</div>

+</div></div></div>

+

+<p>Her heart beat fast and she pressed her hand

+over her eyes, every faculty absorbed in listening

+to the melting loveliness of the voice.</p>

+

+<p>Last night she would have knelt happily by

+the open window and called out a hushed

+"Bravo," to the singer.</p>

+

+<p>Now she lay perfectly still after the song

+ceased.</p>

+

+<p>"It is because there isn't any other girl

+here," she reflected. "He is a fashionable man

+with countless friends. I am a dancing-teacher<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_434" id="Page_434">[434]</a></span>

+whom he forgets in town and always will forget.&mdash;That's

+the most beautiful voice in the

+world," she thought with swift irrelevance; but

+Edgar, looking up at the windows, saw only

+blankness. He smiled to himself. He felt that

+she was not asleep.</p>

+

+<p>The moon shed a wondrous luminous glow in

+the clear heavens as it sailed above him. The

+"man" looked into vast space as though no

+such hilarity as that of his earlier mood had

+been possible.</p>

+

+<p>Edgar sang again. The higher the range of

+the song, with the more ease did his voice thrill

+the still night.</p>

+

+<div class="poetry-container"><div class="poetry"><div class="stanza">

+    <div class="verse">"Oh, Moon of my delight, that knows no wane,</div>

+    <div class="verse">The Moon of heaven is rising once again.</div>

+    <div class="verse">How oft hereafter rising shall she look</div>

+    <div class="verse">Through this same garden after me in vain!</div>

+</div><div class="stanza">

+    <div class="verse">And when thyself with shining foot shall pass</div>

+    <div class="verse">Among the guests star-scattered on the grass,</div>

+    <div class="verse">And in thy joyous errand reach the spot where I made one,</div>

+    <div class="verse indent2">Turn down an empty glass!"</div>

+</div></div></div>

+

+<p>Violet did not know when or how she reached

+the window, but the ending of the song found

+her kneeling there, sobbing quietly, her head

+buried on her crossed arms. The moonlight

+fell on her shining hair. Edgar saw her and,<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_435" id="Page_435">[435]</a></span>

+springing up, came near, careful to keep in

+shadow, for other window shades had risen.</p>

+

+<p>"Violet!" he called softly.</p>

+

+<p>No answer.</p>

+

+<p>"Violet!" he said again. A hand white in the

+moonlight motioned him away, and he believed

+that she was weeping. Tears of sympathy, of

+triumph, sprang to his own eyes. So before very

+long would hundreds be shaken by his art.</p>

+

+<p>"Just say good night, Violet," he begged

+softly; but she would not look up. She waved

+her hand again, and her shade came down.</p>

+

+<p>Only one week since she had come to the

+island and it seemed months. Her aunt's words

+had pierced what she knew now had been a

+hope. How could she have been so insane as to

+hope it! Even given such a wild supposition as

+that Edgar Fabian would marry a nobody,

+what comfort or peace was in store for his wife?

+Violet had seen a play called "The Concert,"

+in which a wife had been obliged to share her

+artist husband with a miscellaneous lot of female

+admirers. Better a thousand times to marry a

+shoemaker or any other obscure body and so be

+left to his undisturbed possession.</p>

+

+<p>Aunt Amy was terribly right. More right

+than she knew.</p>

+

+<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_436" id="Page_436">[436]</a></span></p>

+

+<p>Violet crept back to bed in a tumult of sensible

+reasoning, accompanying which was an intoxicating

+obbligato of divine music, which

+sang and sang through her excited brain.</p>

+

+<p>Meanwhile Edgar, strolling back deliberately

+through the field, smiled at his own thoughts.

+So the mocking eyes had been quenched. What

+a fine combination that girl was: so spirited, so

+sincere, so temperamental.</p>

+

+<p>Kathleen's appeal recurred to him. "She's

+right, I suppose," he reflected. "After smelling

+hothouse flowers all winter, the wild rose is alluring;

+but&mdash;" his further thoughts were vague;

+but they comprised a virtuous intention of fair

+play towards the girl whom he had left weeping

+at the feet of his genius.</p>

+

+<hr class="tb" />

+

+<p>Kathleen sprang to a sitting posture as

+Philip approached the hammock, and sitting on

+its edge, swung gently.</p>

+

+<p>"Well," he said, smiling, "aren't we going to

+the rocks?"</p>

+

+<p>"Oh, are we?"</p>

+

+<p>"Certainly. I was afraid I shouldn't get

+back before you had gone. I was afraid you and

+Edgar might be making the most of the opportunity

+for a fraternal <i lang="fr" xml:lang="fr">tête-à-tête</i>."</p>

+

+<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_437" id="Page_437">[437]</a></span></p>

+

+<p>"We were; but we found the piazza satisfactory

+for it."</p>

+

+<p>"Blasé creatures!" returned Phil. "Hurry,

+Kathleen," he added eagerly. "Get your

+coat."</p>

+

+<p>"I wonder if mother may not need me."</p>

+

+<p>"No one needs you so much as I do to-night,"

+was the impulsive response. "The

+Villa finished, a summer's work before me, a

+full moon, a rising tide. I feel as if I could

+hardly contain myself to-night, and I've been

+holding my wings folded, and listening to Miss

+Foster and Eliza deplore the high price of fruit,

+and sympathizing with Miss Manning's headache,

+and holding wool for Mrs. Wright, all the

+time in a prickly heat for fear you would be

+gone somewhere; and then to get over here and

+find you lying like a little white cloud in the

+hammock&mdash;it's just like everything else that

+happens to me&mdash;just the best thing in the

+world!"</p>

+

+<p>Kathleen laughed at the boyish joy of his

+tone. "Well, I'll see if mother needs me," she

+said, and went into the house and to her

+mother's room.</p>

+

+<p>The moonlight streamed across the floor and

+the figure on the bed turned. "Is that you,<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_438" id="Page_438">[438]</a></span>

+Kathleen?" asked the prostrate one, through

+her nose.</p>

+

+<p>"Yes, how are you feeling, dear? Can I do

+anything for you?"</p>

+

+<p>"Why, yes, Kathleen. If you've had enough

+of the piazza, you might light the lamp and

+read to me a little while."</p>

+

+<p>The simple request magnified itself to a disaster.

+Kathleen frowned, not at her mother, but

+at herself. Was this all the progress she had

+made?</p>

+

+<p>"Shall I leave Phil alone?" she asked quietly.</p>

+

+<p>Mrs. Fabian revived. "I thought he was

+over at the Wrights."</p>

+

+<p>"He was; but he just came home. Violet had

+a headache, too."</p>

+

+<p>"Where is Edgar?"</p>

+

+<p>"I don't know."</p>

+

+<p>"Oh, then, stay with him. It's too bad for a

+headache in every house to spoil his evening. I

+wonder if I couldn't get down to the piazza.

+Perhaps I'd feel better in the fresh air."</p>

+

+<p>A little pulse, its existence hitherto unsuspected,

+began doing queer things in Kathleen's

+throat.</p>

+

+<p>"Phil wants to go down to the rocks," she

+said.</p>

+

+<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_439" id="Page_439">[439]</a></span></p>

+

+<p>"Well, why doesn't he? He was mooning all

+over the island alone last night."</p>

+

+<p>"He thinks I am going with him. I came in

+for my coat. Shall I tell him you need me?"</p>

+

+<p>"Oh, no. Go with him. And don't speak to

+me when you come in. I shall be asleep. I'm

+feeling better."</p>

+

+<p>Kathleen came over to the bed and kissed her

+mother, and Mrs. Fabian patted her hand.

+"Tell Phil I wish I could go, too," she said with

+nasal sleepiness.</p>

+

+<p>Kathleen smiled, and going to her own room

+took a white polo coat and hurried downstairs.</p>

+

+<p>Phil met her with relief, and she gave him a

+couple of cushions.</p>

+

+<p>"I began to think," he said, "that she did

+want you."</p>

+

+<p>"Only for a minute," returned Kathleen.

+"She sent word she wished she was able to come

+with us."</p>

+

+<p>The girl looked up at her companion as they

+moved down on the grass and he smiled at her

+with bravado.</p>

+

+<p>"Not one polite lie to-night," he answered;

+"I want you all to myself. Think how seldom

+it has happened."</p>

+

+<p>Kathleen laughed from sheer contentment.</p>

+

+<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_440" id="Page_440">[440]</a></span></p>

+

+<p>"I think Cap'n James is the only one who

+has seen you alone," she replied.</p>

+

+<p>"He's been a trump: and now," Phil inflated

+his lungs and looked about the irregular

+outline of the island lying in sheeted silver, and

+at the great lighthouses flashing in the distance,

+"I have a foothold in this paradise."</p>

+

+<p>Their destination was the spot where rocks

+rose highest on the island's shore, turning the

+rising tide into boiling cauldrons of white foam,

+and meeting the tremendous impact of the great

+waves with jagged granite shelves that flung the

+compact water high in fountains of diamonds.

+Giant power, giant unrest, fascinating beauty

+glittering with phosphorescence, and silvered

+for miles with moonlight.</p>

+

+<p>"Let me help you, Kathleen," said Phil, offering

+his hand.</p>

+

+<p>"'Bred and bawn in a briar patch,'" she responded,

+springing lightly over the rocks.</p>

+

+<p>"I follow you, then," he answered; and

+Kathleen led the way to a partly sheltered

+nook, too inaccessible for most less-accustomed

+visitors, and so, remote from certain other

+figures which loomed penguin-like on points of

+rock.</p>

+

+<p>"Father thinks he made the mistake of his<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_441" id="Page_441">[441]</a></span>

+life in not buying the island outright," said the

+girl; "then there wouldn't be any penguins."</p>

+

+<p>"Supposing you had bought the Villa Chantecler?

+Where would I be?" asked Phil, as he

+settled down a little below the seat she had

+chosen, and tried to put the second cushion behind

+her back.</p>

+

+<p>"Not at all," she said, turning to him.

+"Share and share alike." She laughed softly.

+"When I'm married, I'm going to have the

+tenderloin cut in two. Once in a while a husband

+wants his wife to have it all, but mostly

+I've noticed the wife expects the husband to

+have it all."</p>

+

+<p>"That's like my mother," said Phil, resting

+his elbow on the discarded cushion. "I have the

+most wonderful mother."</p>

+

+<p>"I know you have." Kathleen met the eyes

+lifted to her with a gaze as grave as their own

+and a sympathy that opened the flood-gates to

+all that was pressing in her companion's heart

+to-night.</p>

+

+<p>"No one but myself knows how wonderful,"

+said Phil, looking back at the water, something

+swelling in his throat. After a pause he went

+on. "We never had much money, and I

+couldn't pull away and do what I wished.<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_442" id="Page_442">[442]</a></span>

+That would be no return for my father's efforts

+and denials for me. Mother understood. Her

+whole life was a living example of self-denial and

+courage. She taught me to think clearly and

+showed me the value of noble-mindedness,

+virtue, and controlling love. It was her splendid

+patience and wisdom that gave me education

+and standing-room in the world."</p>

+

+<p>Kathleen did not speak, but he felt her receptivity.</p>

+

+<p>"It was very early when I began to think and

+dream and plan along entirely different lines

+from those my lot promised. My whole being

+from a child cried out for artistic expression;

+and what pathetic outbursts there were! I understand

+it now. Doesn't it seem natural for a

+child born in the month of May with a mother

+like a Madonna, sweet and gentle, to chase butterflies

+and pick flowers for their beauty and

+fragrance? And that child&mdash;I can't remember

+when he didn't long to create; but firmly, day

+by day, he was urged toward the practical.

+Create! Yes; but let it be machinery; money.</p>

+

+<p>"The marble building with its sculpture

+against the blue of the sky, the painting that

+makes men wonder, the book that sets their

+hearts to throbbing&mdash;that was what I craved;<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_443" id="Page_443">[443]</a></span>

+and often lost my head in craving, my whole

+being vibrating with a great cry of joy in the

+thought of such creation. Can't you see it? The

+month of May&mdash;and the flowers&mdash;and God's

+universe&mdash;and the boy!"</p>

+

+<p>The last word choked in Phil's throat.</p>

+

+<p>"Your mother," said Kathleen in a low voice.

+"She understood."</p>

+

+<p>Phil looked up, and surprised the tenderness,

+the comprehension in the face bent toward him.

+"She understood," he returned slowly, "but she

+thought she saw her duty. I went to college. I

+forgot her many times, and every time I was a

+fool. At last, I came out and was put to the

+treadmill; but in my last year at school a wonderful

+thing happened to my mother. A Mr.

+Tremaine visited our cabin and left with her a

+little book. Sometime I will tell you about it if

+you care to know; but it made a great difference

+in her life. My work in the mine seemed typical

+of my life. The grime, the clank of machinery,

+the perfunctory drudgery, and the hand's

+breath of blue sky above. I crushed my longings

+and tried to be practical. Could purgatory

+be worse than, with such a nature, to be

+caged in underground gloom? The glimpse of

+sky was like my mother's eyes with their joy,<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_444" id="Page_444">[444]</a></span>

+their knowledge. She talked to me, she permeated

+me with the new point of view; the new

+strength; the new patience. My father praised

+my efficiency, and then suddenly the nightmare

+was broken by a message as from heaven&mdash;you

+know the rest!" Philip turned quickly, and

+again met his companion's speaking eyes.</p>

+

+<p>"Kathleen, can you forgive me!" he exclaimed.

+"This has been an orgy of egotism!"

+Even as he gazed, the dark eyes veiled themselves.

+Only then he realized how wide-open

+the doors had been thrown.</p>

+

+<p>"I thank you for telling me," she said, with

+her direct look.</p>

+

+<p>"I seem," he answered, with a vague unrest,&mdash;"I

+seem always to have been going to tell

+you. There is&mdash;there is no one but you to

+whom I could talk like that." He stared out on

+the water, then changed the position of the

+cushion.</p>

+

+<p>"Was that Mr. Tremaine a publisher?" asked

+Kathleen.</p>

+

+<p>"I don't know. Mother has always wished

+she might know who he was."</p>

+

+<p>"There is a Mr. Tremaine who lives in Gramercy

+Park who is a friend of father's."</p>

+

+<p>"Gramercy Park?" repeated Phil, and sud<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_445" id="Page_445">[445]</a></span>denly

+remembered. "Then I believe his son

+and heir was my first and only patron. I made

+a picture for a small Tremaine one day in the

+park with Violet Manning."</p>

+

+<p>"Wouldn't it be odd if it turned out to be

+the same?" said Kathleen.</p>

+

+<p>A magnificent burst of spray clattering in

+myriad drops on the rock near them warned

+them that their tenure of the place was short.</p>

+

+<p>The girl smiled. "I think, as we have spoken

+of Mr. Tremaine, I must return your confidence

+with another"; and Phil, looking up suddenly,

+saw a new shy consciousness in the slender face

+which was for some reason disagreeable.</p>

+

+<p>"Don't tell me to-night, Kathleen!" he said

+impulsively.</p>

+

+<p>"Why not?" she asked, wondering.</p>

+

+<p>"I don't know," he answered honestly;

+"only that everything is perfect. What you

+tell me might change it. Any change would be

+for the worse."</p>

+

+<p>Kathleen smiled thoughtfully into space.</p>

+

+<p>"I suppose," she said, with a little shrug,

+"if you had urged me I might have popped

+back into my shell. I'm terribly at home in

+a shell! But as it is I think I'm going to tell

+you."</p>

+

+<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_446" id="Page_446">[446]</a></span></p>

+

+<p>Phil looked at the delicate face, smiling in the

+moonlight.</p>

+

+<p>"Is it something you have made up your

+mind to do?" he asked.</p>

+

+<p>"Yes," she answered, looking at him, surprised.

+"How did you guess?"</p>

+

+<p>"Then don't tell me till to-morrow. I want

+to think that this won't end&mdash;that it will always

+be a rising tide and&mdash;and we watching

+it together."</p>

+

+<p>That newly acquired pulse of Kathleen's asserted

+itself again, but she swallowed past it

+resolutely. "Oh, I shall still be able to watch

+the rising tide&mdash;once in a while," she answered,

+laughing. "But I'm going to tell you.

+I'm writing a little book. There!"</p>

+

+<p>"What?" cried Phil.</p>

+

+<p>"Yes, and I'm going to publish it. Mr. Tremaine

+likes the idea. He is the only one I've

+told."</p>

+

+<p>"And is that all?" asked Phil eagerly.</p>

+

+<p>"All!" Kathleen regarded him with mock

+indignation. The little pulse prevented its being

+genuine. "Is all you're going to do, just to

+paint pictures, Mr. Sidney?"</p>

+

+<p>"Why, I think that's bully," exclaimed

+Phil, turning so suddenly as to test the<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_447" id="Page_447">[447]</a></span>

+sharpness of his rocky couch. "Tell me about

+it."</p>

+

+<p>"Well, for the past year, I have been bewitched

+by the microscope. It reveals a world

+that we are too clumsy to discern. The idea

+occurred to me to write a series of microscopic

+fairy tales."</p>

+

+<p>"Fine! Fine!"</p>

+

+<p>"It's great fun. And of course they will be

+illustrated."</p>

+

+<p>"Who's going to do it?"</p>

+

+<p>"You."</p>

+

+<p>Phil looked up quickly. She was laughing

+and blushing. "Of course you wouldn't consider

+it," she said, "but there might be money

+in it. How do you feel toward pot-boilers?"</p>

+

+<p>"I don't know, Kathleen. Tell me more.

+What sort of illustrations?"</p>

+

+<p>"Well, you saw me with that moss yesterday

+that I had brought up out of the woods?

+The slide I was making was to be the design for

+a tree in the illustration. I thought to make the

+pictures educational in a way. To put in a

+corner of the page what the original was. Moss,

+seaweed, an aphide, or whatever it happened to

+be."</p>

+

+<p>"What a pretty idea!" said Phil.</p>

+

+<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_448" id="Page_448">[448]</a></span></p>

+

+<p>"Of course, you don't want to do it, though,"

+she went on in a different tone. "Just as your

+studio is finished, and you are aching to paint."</p>

+

+<p>"It's good of you to think of me," replied the

+artist warmly. "I don't know that I could do

+that work. I should have to satisfy Mr. Tremaine

+with a sample. We couldn't put our educational

+tips on the pictures, but there could be

+a thin cover for each illustration with the description

+on a corner of that."</p>

+

+<p>"Oh, yes, much better," agreed Kathleen.</p>

+

+<p>They talked a little longer and the splendid

+tide suddenly splashed them with glittering

+spray.</p>

+

+<p>"A broad hint," laughed Kathleen, springing

+up. "We must go back."</p>

+

+<p>Phil sighed. "I'm sorry," he said, and getting

+reluctantly to his feet, he started to give

+his hand to Kathleen, then remembering that

+she preferred independence, he picked up the

+cushions and started ahead of her.</p>

+

+<p>They had nearly crossed the rocks when a cry

+from her arrested him.</p>

+

+<p>He turned. She had sunk down in the moonlight.</p>

+

+<p>"Oh, how dull of me!" she cried. "I'm used

+to my rubber-soled shoes."</p>

+

+<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_449" id="Page_449">[449]</a></span></p>

+

+<p>"What! Turned your ankle?" Phil flung the

+cushions over upon the grass, and hurried to

+her.</p>

+

+<p>"I'm afraid so."</p>

+

+<p>"I ought to have helped you," said Phil, with

+contrition, "but I thought you preferred&mdash;"</p>

+

+<p>"I do. I'm a regular mountain goat."

+Kathleen was half laughing in a way that

+showed her pain.</p>

+

+<p>Phil lifted her gently, and she went on:&mdash;</p>

+

+<p>"Everybody knows nowadays that the best

+way to treat a strain is to walk right ahead.

+Oh!"</p>

+

+<p>"Yes, that may do on flat ground," said

+Phil; "I'm a mountain goat too, so don't be

+afraid"; and, lifting her in his arms, he carried

+her over the remaining rocks and set her down

+upon the grassy bank.</p>

+

+<hr class="chap" />

+

+<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_450" id="Page_450">[450]</a></span></p>

+

+

+

+

+<div class="chapter">

+<h2>CHAPTER XXVI</h2>

+</div>

+

+<p class="ph3">TIDES</p>

+

+

+<p>Philip paused a moment when he reached the

+grassy bank.</p>

+

+<p>"You're quite sure you wish to walk?" he

+said.</p>

+

+<p>"I certainly am," she returned with an effort

+at lightness. "It's the best thing I can do, now

+that I've been so careless."</p>

+

+<p>He set her down gently, and picked up the

+cushions with one hand while he put the other

+under her arm, and they started; but there was

+no path; the points of granite and the grassy

+hummocks made difficult walking for sound

+feet. Phil felt his companion's sudden limps and

+cringes, the while she was talking valiantly of

+the satisfaction it was to feel that a little pain

+didn't matter, so long as one knew that the

+best thing for a strain was exercise; but all the

+time it seemed to her that home was miles away,

+and that this Transgressors' Boulevard would

+never end.</p>

+

+<p>Phil smiled down at the dark uncovered head<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_451" id="Page_451">[451]</a></span>

+so near his shoulder; then as she sank in an unexpected

+hollow:&mdash;</p>

+

+<p>"Pluck is all very well, Kathleen," he said,

+"but I'm going to pick you up again."</p>

+

+<p>"No, no, Phil! You could never carry me

+home. I'm much too heavy to be doing these

+foolish things." Tears of vexation stood in the

+girl's eyes.</p>

+

+<p>"I needn't carry you home," he returned

+quietly, "but it is all my fault that you slipped.

+As soon as we get to level ground you shall try

+again. Cushions will be safe in Arcadia, I fancy,"

+he added, storing them at the foot of a rock they

+were passing. "I can come back for them."</p>

+

+<p>"Put this heavy polo coat with them," said

+Kathleen, trying not to cry. "No need of carrying

+any more than you have to. Oh, Phil,

+really! I could hop. Couldn't I hop if you lifted

+me on one side?"</p>

+

+<p>"We'll hop, skip, and jump when we get

+on the level," he returned, wrapping the coat

+carefully about her, and taking her up again.</p>

+

+<p>"Put your arm around my neck, please.

+There we are." He moved on at a good pace.

+"Can't you feel that it's easy?"</p>

+

+<p>"I'm so ashamed to make you this trouble."

+Kathleen's lip quivered.</p>

+

+<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_452" id="Page_452">[452]</a></span></p>

+

+<p>"I'm so ashamed that you are hurt, but I

+need the exercise," rejoined her bearer. "What

+am I going to do now that I don't have to struggle

+with the Villa? Have you a rowboat?"</p>

+

+<p>"Yes," returned Kathleen, in a small voice.</p>

+

+<p>They were approaching a cottage with sightless

+midnight eyes. She had no idea what time

+it was, but devoutly hoped they were the only

+persons awake on the island. It was ridiculous

+to be carried about like this, and a terrible imposition

+on an innocent guest; but how wonderful

+he was, striding along from hummock to

+hummock with apparent ease.</p>

+

+<p>"Then I'll do some rowing, if you'll let me.

+Do you like to row?"</p>

+

+<p>"Yes," came again in such a small, choked

+voice, that Phil suddenly turned his head and

+his face came close to Kathleen's. The elegant

+remote Miss Fabian, with the slumbrous eyes

+and the red-brown hair, was a helpless child in

+his arms.</p>

+

+<p>"Are you suffering?" he asked, and such a

+note of tenderness sounded suddenly in his

+voice that the girl's heart gave a great throb.</p>

+

+<p>"Only in my mind," she faltered, trying to

+laugh. "You'll set me down as soon as we reach

+the point, won't you? It's easy from there."</p>

+

+<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_453" id="Page_453">[453]</a></span></p>

+

+<p>It was not very easy from there, but Kathleen

+set her teeth, and walked it, leaning on Phil's

+arm, and sometimes stopping to rest.</p>

+

+<p>"And I thought it was such a small island,"

+she said with a little sighing laugh when at last

+the home piazza was reached.</p>

+

+<p>Philip helped her upstairs to her room.</p>

+

+<p>"Shall I knock on your mother's door?" he

+asked.</p>

+

+<p>"No, indeed. I can get on perfectly well

+now." She held out her hand. "Will you forgive

+me?"</p>

+

+<p>He took it and looked straight into her eyes

+without speaking.</p>

+

+<p>For an instant he held her hand, still mute,

+then turned, and instead of going to his room

+went downstairs again.</p>

+

+<p>Kathleen, closing her door softly, heard him.

+She stood a moment perfectly still, her lambent

+eyes looking into space, the long straight

+lines of her white coat shining in the dim

+room.</p>

+

+<p>"If it should be!" she thought with awe. "If

+it should be!"</p>

+

+<p>Philip went out on the porch. The tide was

+receding and dragging in and out the stones of

+the beach. He frowned thoughtfully at the roll<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_454" id="Page_454">[454]</a></span>ing

+expanse. "This is disturbing," he reflected.

+His blood was pumping and dragging mightily

+at locked doors of his own which he knew must

+be locked for years to come.</p>

+

+<p>"And even then it cannot be Kathleen who

+opens them," he reminded himself. While she

+was flashing about to fashionable functions

+in her limousine the coming season, he would

+still be planning which meal to make the substantial

+one of the day.</p>

+

+<p>"The cushions!" he thought suddenly, and,

+finding relief in action, he began running back

+with long, even strides, through the silent, silvered

+fields.</p>

+

+<hr class="tb" />

+

+<p>Before ten o'clock the next morning Edgar

+presented himself at the farmhouse to make

+inquiries for the invalid. He was eager to begin

+treating Violet right; and as a commencement he

+brought a box of bonbons which he had ordered

+from the city before that resolution was made.

+However, flowers and candy were conventional

+attentions. So were books. He reflected that

+no one could criticize his giving Violet a

+marked copy of Tennyson.</p>

+

+<p>"She isn't here," Mrs. Wright told him

+when he reached the house. "She has gone<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_455" id="Page_455">[455]</a></span>

+somewhere to get an extra coat of tan and see

+the tide come in."</p>

+

+<p>"Why didn't I come sooner!" exclaimed

+Edgar, vexed. "I thought her headache&mdash;I

+thought she wouldn't be up early."</p>

+

+<p>"Oh, I think you must have exorcised that

+last night," said Mrs. Wright. "How we all

+enjoyed the medicine! Will you promise to sing

+every night if one of us will fall ill?"</p>

+

+<p>Edgar smiled and twisted his mustache.

+"We have a lame duck over at our house," he

+said. "Kathleen managed to slip on the rocks

+last night. She's as plucky as they make 'em,

+though. She's limping around. Phil was with

+her&mdash;not very bright of him, I must say."</p>

+

+<p>"Oh, I'm sorry he has that cloud over his

+first morning at the studio," returned Mrs.

+Wright. "I saw him go in there an hour

+ago."</p>

+

+<p>"You're sure Violet isn't there?" asked Edgar

+quickly.</p>

+

+<p>"Oh, perfectly," rejoined Mrs. Wright quietly.

+"We're as much warned off the Villa as ever,

+now, you know. I hope he is going to do great

+things."</p>

+

+<p>"Yes, I hope so," said Edgar absently. "This

+full sunlight isn't particularly good for Violet's<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_456" id="Page_456">[456]</a></span>

+head. Don't you think I'd better find her and

+get her out of it?"</p>

+

+<p>"Oh, it's the steadiest little head in the world.

+Last night was simply the exception that proves

+the rule."</p>

+

+<p>"Well, then, she'll be fit for tennis. I'm going

+to find her and see if we can't have some

+singles before dinner."</p>

+

+<p>"All right, if you can find her."</p>

+

+<p>Edgar tossed his head. "Perhaps I couldn't

+put a girdle 'round the earth, but this island's

+a cinch"; and with the beribboned box under

+his arm and the sun glinting on his polished blond

+head, Edgar set off running toward the rocks

+where Kathleen had met her slip.</p>

+

+<p>Perhaps, he reflected, it was just as well that

+Violet had been <i lang="fr" xml:lang="fr">hors de combat</i> last evening. If

+they had come down here in the moonlight, and

+he had sung, and she had turned upon him that

+wonderful, confiding, devout look which warmed

+every fibre of his vanity, there is no telling

+what he might have said or done. He was

+shrewd enough to know that Mrs. Larrabee's

+rebuff had caused a rebound in which just such

+an innocent, womanly girl as Violet Manning

+could catch his heart in both hands. She had

+laughed at him yesterday afternoon, and to<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_457" id="Page_457">[457]</a></span>

+force her to capitulate he might have done

+something foolish in the evening. Now that

+pitfall&mdash;the time, the place, and the girl&mdash;was

+past, and the bright clear winds of morning

+found him forewarned and forearmed; but

+friendly, perfectly friendly. He thoroughly

+liked Violet Manning.</p>

+

+<p>All this time he was running toward the show-place

+at high tide, the precipitous rocks whose

+walls and crannies repulsed the crashing waves,

+causing a never-ending series of fountains, and

+cascades of crystal water.</p>

+

+<p>A few penguins in shade hats studded the

+heights this morning, but Violet was not among

+them. He walked past slowly, scanning the

+rocks. A few rods farther on, a small harbor

+pierced the island's side. Its farther bank was

+soft with evergreens; a sturdy growth of tall

+spruces which fixed their roots amid the inhospitable

+rocks.</p>

+

+<p>An artist had set up his easel on the near

+shore, and was sitting on a camp-stool before

+it, working busily. A large straw hat was

+crowded down to the tops of his ears to thwart

+the wind, and Edgar wondered who might be

+the competitor of the painter who was working

+away at the Villa Chantecler. He glanced<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_458" id="Page_458">[458]</a></span>

+carelessly at the artist and then renewed his

+scrutiny of the rocks; being so engrossed, that

+the next time his gaze went forward, he saw that

+a girl was lying on the rock near the easel, leaning

+on her elbow and alternately watching the

+artist and the sea.</p>

+

+<p>Edgar suspected the truth with a wave of

+anger. How could Phil be in two places at once?

+He had allowed Kathleen to slip on the rocks.

+Probably he had been absent-minded. This

+had been planned for; Mrs. Wright couldn't

+have known it.</p>

+

+<p>He strode forward.</p>

+

+<p>"Good morning!" he said, with awe-inspiring

+dignity.</p>

+

+<p>"Oh, hello," returned Violet carelessly, turning

+her head so as to see the newcomer.</p>

+

+<p>Could this nonchalant girl be she who had

+wept at the window!</p>

+

+<p>"I went over to the house to see how you

+were," said Edgar severely, "and Mrs. Wright

+said you were watching the tide."</p>

+

+<p>"Yes," returned Violet, lazy in the sun,

+"but I found something so much better to

+watch."</p>

+

+<p>"You can't see anything from there," declared

+Edgar, speaking crisply.</p>

+

+<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_459" id="Page_459">[459]</a></span></p>

+

+<p>"Do you allow that, Mr. Sidney?" asked the

+girl.</p>

+

+<p>"I allow anything but people to talk to me,"

+said Phil, busy with the blues and greens of the

+water.</p>

+

+<p>"There, you see!" said Violet accusingly.

+"He hadn't said a word of reproach to me before

+you came"; and the little minx allowed

+herself to throw a devoted glance in the direction

+of the artist's hat. If the mouse were

+going ultimately to make its escape, surely the

+kitten was entitled to whatever fun it could

+find in the situation.</p>

+

+<p>Edgar pulled himself together.</p>

+

+<p>"It's great just now," he said. "Don't you

+want to come out on the rocks, and see the

+row?"</p>

+

+<p>Violet shook her head and touched her finger

+to her lips warningly.</p>

+

+<p>Edgar scowled and looked at Phil's swift

+brush. Confound the girl, how was he to treat

+her magnanimously if she wouldn't give him

+an opportunity?</p>

+

+<p>He held out the beribboned box and raised

+his eyebrows, gesturing with his head toward

+the rocks.</p>

+

+<p>"Is there a string tied to it?" asked Violet,<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_460" id="Page_460">[460]</a></span>

+with a saucy, lazy smile; and Edgar lifted his

+chin superbly and tossed the box into her

+lap.</p>

+

+<p>"The only girl here," she reflected; for she felt

+tempted to be flattered by the implied forethought.</p>

+

+<p>"How perfectly sweet," she said and opened

+the luxurious box. Rising to her knees she lifted

+a chocolate in the little tongs and put it in

+Philip's mouth.</p>

+

+<p>"<i lang="fr" xml:lang="fr">Mille remerciments</i>," he mumbled; "but

+don't do it again, please."</p>

+

+<p>"Phil wants to be alone," said Edgar. "Can't

+you see that?" He held out his hand to Violet

+to rise. She ignored it, but rose with supple

+grace.</p>

+

+<p>"Well," she said, "if little boys will come and

+chatter to me, I suppose I shall have to go. It's

+been so interesting, Mr. Sidney. That's going

+to be wonderful. I hope you'll let me watch you

+again sometime."</p>

+

+<p>"You didn't really want to stay there, did

+you?" asked Edgar, when they had begun to

+climb out on the rocks at a point where there

+were no other gazers.</p>

+

+<p>"Indeed I did, marplot," returned the girl,

+"but three's a crowd when one is painting."</p>

+

+<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_461" id="Page_461">[461]</a></span></p>

+

+<p>"Oh, very well," said Edgar, stiffly; "I'll

+stay away the next time."</p>

+

+<p>"That's right. Do," returned Violet. "Have

+a chocolate? These are delicious."</p>

+

+<p>"No, I thank you." Edgar gave a dark

+glance at his companion. He did not like her

+mood.</p>

+

+<p>"I didn't know you cared more for painting

+than for music," he said.</p>

+

+<p>"More?" she returned with wide eyes. "Oh,

+no, I'm an impartial and humble admirer of all

+the arts."</p>

+

+<p>Wasn't she going to speak of last evening?

+He stood in silence beside her for a space to

+give her opportunity; but she was engrossed in

+munching a chocolate.</p>

+

+<p>"My!" she said, regarding the heavy, satin,

+heart-shaped crimson box admiringly, "I've

+gazed at these with awe in shop windows, and

+then gone in and bought ten cents worth in a

+striped bag. I feel so grand!"</p>

+

+<p>"I was disappointed last night," said Edgar,

+his gloomy regard changing slowly to his

+best look of devotion. There was nothing for

+him in Violet's eyes this morning. The expression

+he craved must be brought back in order

+that he might exercise care to treat her fairly.</p>

+

+<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_462" id="Page_462">[462]</a></span></p>

+

+<p>"Because I couldn't go to walk with Mr.

+Sidney?" she rejoined, with the ironical gayety

+Edgar hated. "I was, too; but your charming

+serenade almost made up for it."</p>

+

+<p>Edgar ground the even teeth. "I suppose it

+was foolish of me to exert myself," he said. "I

+probably waked you up."</p>

+

+<p>"Oh, it didn't sound like the least bit of

+exertion," replied Violet. "The ease of your

+singing is really its great charm. You didn't

+mind my laughing, right at the end, did you?"</p>

+

+<p>"Laughing!"</p>

+

+<p>"Yes; you see Miss Foster is on my side of

+the house, and when you sang</p>

+

+<div class="poetry-container"><div class="poetry"><div class="stanza">

+    <div class="verse">'Turn down an empty glass,'</div>

+</div></div></div>

+

+<p>I knew she'd think it was a prohibition song,

+and I nearly suffocated."</p>

+

+<p>Edgar met her dancing eyes, and glared at

+her while she ate a chocolate with relish.</p>

+

+<p>"And I thought you were temperamental!"

+he muttered.</p>

+

+<p>"Do you wonder really that Maine is a prohibition

+state?" she asked conversationally.

+"Here, eat this peppermint one for me. I don't

+like them," and the even teeth opened mechanically

+to receive the bonbon she popped between<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_463" id="Page_463">[463]</a></span>

+them. "I mean because it's so intoxicating

+here anyway. Why, I can hardly keep my feet

+still this morning"; and as they were standing,

+Violet, on her flat rock, and with the great crimson

+heart pressed to her breast, began to clog.</p>

+

+<p>Edgar half unconsciously moved away to

+where he could see her nimble feet. "Whistle,"

+she laughed. "Whistle, and I won't come to

+you, my lad!"</p>

+

+<p>Edgar whistled, he couldn't help it. Her fair

+hair blowing, her sea-blue eyes shining, and her

+sure feet dancing, she seemed the incarnation

+of the radiant morning. He found himself patting

+in rhythm, and whistling like a bird until

+she tired and sank in a blue heap on the rock.</p>

+

+<p>"Oh, it's a jolly world," she cried.</p>

+

+<p>"And you're a jolly girl!" he exclaimed,

+striding over and flinging himself down beside

+her. "Why don't you teach me to do that? You

+promised."</p>

+

+<p>"I've begun twice, haven't I? You haven't

+any patience."</p>

+

+<p>"Oh, that was in the woods. What could I do

+on a hillside? Teach me in the summer house

+this afternoon."</p>

+

+<p>"That's where you ought to be now, practising,"

+said Violet.</p>

+

+<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_464" id="Page_464">[464]</a></span></p>

+

+<p>"I've put in half an hour this morning."</p>

+

+<p>"That isn't enough. It's time for another."</p>

+

+<p>"Oh, you want me to go, do you, so you can

+go back and watch Phil?"</p>

+

+<p>"Well, I never before had a chance to see the

+wheels go 'round in a painting. Don't you think

+it's wonderful?"</p>

+

+<p>"Yes, he's a wizard. It's a pity you couldn't

+go with him last night. He took Kath and she

+managed to turn her ankle."</p>

+

+<p>"So he has been telling me. I'm sorry. So

+you'd rather have had mine turned? Then I

+couldn't have taught you to clog, remember."</p>

+

+<p>"No; he might not have gone mooning around

+then. He might have paid more attention to

+<em>you</em>."</p>

+

+<p>Violet glanced at the speaker out of the tail of

+her eye and ate a chocolate. Then she cast a

+look over on the point where the easel stood.

+"He is so good-looking," she sighed. "I like

+smooth-faced men."</p>

+

+<p>"My mustache is catching it next, is it?" said

+Edgar irritably, twisting that treasure.</p>

+

+<p>"Oh, I simply despise mustaches," rejoined

+Violet equably; "but of course if it makes you

+look older, or more dignified, or helps you in

+your career, you have to wear one."</p>

+

+<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_465" id="Page_465">[465]</a></span></p>

+

+<p>"I don't know as there's any 'have to' about

+it," returned Edgar. "It's just a matter of

+taste with me"; he made the addition with a

+superior carelessness.</p>

+

+<p>"So it is with me," returned Violet with

+engaging frankness. "Here's another peppermint."

+She picked it up in the silver tongs.

+"Open your mouth and shut your eyes and I'll

+give you something to make you wise."</p>

+

+<p>Edgar jerked back his head, seized the confection

+in his fingers, and scaled it across the

+rocks.</p>

+

+<p>"I loathe peppermint," he said shortly, "and

+as for making me wise, you're making me wiser

+every day. Will you, or will you not give me

+a lesson in clogging this afternoon?"</p>

+

+<p>"I <em>will</em>!" returned Violet, dramatically.

+"You paid partly in advance last night, and

+I'm the soul of honor!"</p>

+

+<p>He met her mischievous eyes with a baffled

+look. He longed to shake her. His hand lifted

+mechanically to his mustache and dropped

+again. He had lost faith in that, too.</p>

+

+<hr class="chap" />

+

+<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_466" id="Page_466">[466]</a></span></p>

+

+

+

+

+<div class="chapter">

+<h2>CHAPTER XXVII</h2>

+</div>

+

+<p class="ph3">THE SON</p>

+

+

+<p>When Philip returned to dinner that day he

+found a strange man sitting on the veranda with

+Kathleen. The table beside her was filled with

+loose sheets of paper, and she was reading aloud.</p>

+

+<p>As Phil approached she looked up.</p>

+

+<p>"We spoke of an angel last night," she said,

+"and lo, he appeared to-day. This is Mr. Tremaine,

+and he knows you already."</p>

+

+<p>Phil laid down his impedimenta and his hat,

+and shook hands.</p>

+

+<p>The grey-eyed portly stranger smiled as they

+greeted. "Miss Fabian has told me so much

+about you," he said, "that I am wondering if

+you belong to the Sidneys who took me in in the

+mountains of Montana one night five or six

+years ago."</p>

+

+<p>Philip's perfunctory gaze quickened.</p>

+

+<p>"And you left my mother a little book?" he

+asked quickly.</p>

+

+<p>The pressure of the newcomer's handclasp

+tightened. He nodded.</p>

+

+<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_467" id="Page_467">[467]</a></span></p>

+

+<p>"The very same," he said. "And you do belong

+to that charming woman."</p>

+

+<p>"You did a great deal for us, Mr. Tremaine,"

+said Phil heartily.</p>

+

+<p>"And this Kathleen child says we're not

+through with each other. She wants you to illustrate

+this clever little book of hers."</p>

+

+<p>"If he will," put in the girl quickly. "You

+don't know yet what small business it will be

+for him to picture my stuff. Show us what you

+have done this morning."</p>

+

+<p>"I hear you are my neighbor in Gramercy

+Park," said Mr. Tremaine while Phil stooped to

+get his picture. "I hear that the artist who did

+my son's treasure, 'The Proud Robin,' stands

+before me."</p>

+

+<p>Phil laughed and turned his canvas about.

+A great wave uplifted its heavy snowy crest,

+just at the point of breaking into rushing surge.</p>

+

+<p>"Stand back," cried Kathleen, "it's coming!"

+Her cheeks reddened. "You do such true

+things, Phil!"</p>

+

+<p>"Upon my word!" said Mr. Tremaine, "Miss

+Fabian is right. That's really great, Mr. Sidney.

+One gets the weight of the water. I think the

+breadth and perception of the mountains

+helped you in that. How long have you been<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_468" id="Page_468">[468]</a></span>

+so intimate with the physiognomy of old

+Ocean?"</p>

+

+<p>"I have been at this off and on for some days

+in time stolen from house decoration."</p>

+

+<p>"There is time before dinner," said Kathleen,

+"and Mr. Tremaine is going to stay such

+a little while, take him over to the Villa. I want

+him to be sure to see it though I begrudge his

+seeing it without me, too!"</p>

+

+<p>"Sure you can't go?" asked Mr. Tremaine.</p>

+

+<p>Kathleen looked ruefully at her right foot,

+wearing a loose slipper of her mother's.</p>

+

+<p>"That field is so rough," she said.</p>

+

+<p>"We'll make an armchair," said Phil.</p>

+

+<p>The girl shook her head. "No, I'll gather up

+my book. Mr. Tremaine likes it, so I'm happy

+though lame, and you must talk over the illustrations

+together."</p>

+

+<p>In truth she was glad that these two should

+have the opportunity for a <i lang="fr" xml:lang="fr">tête-à-tête</i> and she

+smiled happily to herself as she picked up the

+flying sheets. There was color in her cheeks,

+the rose-color that seemed this morning to tinge

+the universe. It was such a beautiful world, and

+for Mr. Tremaine suddenly to appear and to approve

+her work and to meet Phil&mdash;Phil whose

+eyes had seemed this morning always to see her<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_469" id="Page_469">[469]</a></span>

+and regard her reflectively, instead of looking

+over or through her&mdash;all this made a wonderful

+combination, a strange, sweet expectancy,

+as of harmonious progressions which could but

+resolve into one triumphant chord.</p>

+

+<p>The dinner hour approached and Mrs. Fabian

+came out on the piazza.</p>

+

+<p>"How are you, poor child?" she asked with

+commiseration; then meeting Kathleen's eyes,

+she laughed. "Here I am pitying you, and you

+look as if you'd been left a million. What is it?

+Is Mr. Tremaine so pleased with your stories?"</p>

+

+<p>"He thinks they'll do," returned Kathleen.</p>

+

+<p>"Very modest," said Mrs. Fabian; "but I'm

+quite sure from your looks that he said you were

+a second Hans Christian Andersen. Keeping

+it a secret from me, too! I'm a very good judge

+of stories, and you might have asked my opinion

+about those, at any rate."</p>

+

+<p>"I felt very shy about it, mother, but now

+I'm just bubbling with encouragement; and

+perhaps Phil will make the pictures."</p>

+

+<p>Mrs. Fabian regarded the rosy face admiringly.</p>

+

+<p>"There, you see his business is coming along,

+and this morning I gave him the commission to

+paint our portraits."</p>

+

+<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_470" id="Page_470">[470]</a></span></p>

+

+<p>Even this news could not dampen Kathleen's

+present mood.</p>

+

+<p>"Yours," she returned. "Remember, I told

+you I refused to be perpetuated as I look now."</p>

+

+<p>"I never saw you look as pretty as you do

+to-day, in your whole life," said Mrs. Fabian,

+gazing as she spoke.</p>

+

+<p>The girl laughed from sheer satisfaction. "Is

+the big head so becoming?" she returned.</p>

+

+<p>"I saw Phil taking Mr. Tremaine over to the

+studio," said Mrs. Fabian. "Edgar said this

+morning he wanted to bring Violet to dinner.

+He will be surprised to find Mr. Tremaine here.

+We shall have quite a party. I hope they won't

+all be late. If Phil and Mr. Tremaine get to

+talking over at the studio they won't know

+what time it is."</p>

+

+<p>The air at the island, however, was of a nature

+to create an inner monitor which called to

+dinner, so the two couples soon approached

+from opposite directions. Mr. Tremaine and

+Phil were talking busily as they came, and

+Kathleen noted Violet's crimson heart while

+she drew near. She gazed questioningly at her

+brother whose alert happy face turned red as

+he met her eyes; but Violet was self-possessed

+when Kathleen greeted her.</p>

+

+<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_471" id="Page_471">[471]</a></span></p>

+

+<p>"Pardon my remaining enthroned, Violet,"

+she said. "I'm not precisely wasting steps to-day."</p>

+

+<p>"I heard about it," returned the guest, coming

+up the steps and meeting Mrs. Fabian. "I

+do hope it's nothing serious."</p>

+

+<p>"No, indeed. I shall soon forget it."</p>

+

+<p>"I suppose neither of you will have a chocolate

+before dessert, but they're very very good."

+Violet opened the box temptingly as she took

+a seat beside Kathleen.</p>

+

+<p>"Who is that coming with Phil?" asked

+Edgar.</p>

+

+<p>"My publisher," returned Kathleen, proudly.

+"Just think, Edgar! I've written some stories,

+and Mr. Tremaine has accepted them!"</p>

+

+<p>Edgar lifted his eyebrows and smiled wonderingly

+into his sister's happy face. "Good

+work, Kath! It may really pay to be a

+highbrow. Why have you kept so still about

+it?"</p>

+

+<p>"Oh, that was natural. Supposing Mr. Tremaine

+had said, 'You're a nice child, Kathleen,

+but your little yarns are trash.' How then!

+Shouldn't I be glad nobody saw me hide my

+diminished head?"</p>

+

+<p>Edgar continued to regard her curiously. He<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_472" id="Page_472">[472]</a></span>

+had never before noticed how really good-looking

+Kath was.</p>

+

+<p>Violet expressed her interest and sympathy

+heartily, and while she was speaking, the other

+guests arrived and Mr. Tremaine met his son's

+dancing-teacher with pleasure.</p>

+

+<p>It was a gay dinner-party, and Kathleen

+glowed with satisfaction in Mr. Tremaine's

+manifest interest in Phil. He could be such a

+useful friend.</p>

+

+<p>They had coffee on the veranda, and while

+Edgar was planning in what manner and how

+soon he could segregate himself and Violet in the

+summer house, the boy whose duty it was to

+bring the mail appeared with the letters. At a

+sign from Mrs. Fabian he handed them to her.</p>

+

+<p>She ran them over with a smile. "I'm always

+impolite," she said, "when Mr. Fabian's letter

+comes, and I think everybody will forgive me."

+She laid the others on the rail beside her and

+opened the letter she held.</p>

+

+<p>"I'm hoping so much he will set the day for

+coming."</p>

+

+<p>The smiling expectancy of her face gave way

+to bewilderment and incredulity as she read. No

+one observed it, for Kathleen had started to

+tell an island adventure.</p>

+

+<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_473" id="Page_473">[473]</a></span></p>

+

+<p>Her mother's voice broke in upon the tale.</p>

+

+<p>"Kathleen!" she said breathlessly, "I don't

+understand this letter. Father is in trouble of

+some kind. He is trying to comfort me. He says

+to ask you&mdash;"</p>

+

+<p>Mrs. Fabian looked up at Kathleen whose

+face was transformed while her mother spoke.

+The color left it, the laughing eyes grew startled,

+and she tried to rise.</p>

+

+<p>Phil sprang to his feet, "What do you want,

+Kathleen?"</p>

+

+<p>"The letters!" she said. "See if there is one

+for me?"</p>

+

+<p>Edgar, who had been observing how remarkably

+good was the line of Violet's hair at

+the nape of her neck, brought his thoughts back

+with difficulty to his sister. Kath was looking

+frightened. What was the matter?</p>

+

+<p>Mr. Tremaine leaned forward in his chair and

+looked with serious questioning at Kathleen

+while she tore open a letter from her father. Her

+brow drew together as she read. Mrs. Fabian

+regarded her helplessly, two sheets of paper

+blowing in her fingers.</p>

+

+<p>When finally the girl dropped her letter her

+face had flushed again. She rose from her chair

+with difficulty.</p>

+

+<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_474" id="Page_474">[474]</a></span></p>

+

+<p>"I must go to father immediately," she said.</p>

+

+<p>Phil was at her side in an instant. "You

+can't do that," he returned, "but you can

+send me."</p>

+

+<p>Mrs. Fabian's lips were parted. Edgar

+frowned and looked from one to another; then

+he too sprang to his feet.</p>

+

+<p>"What is this, Kath?" he asked with sudden

+authority.</p>

+

+<p>His sister regarded him absently. Edgar

+would suffer, of course, but just now, in the

+crucial moment, he didn't count; and she! Oh,

+how could fate have been so unkind as to hamper

+her at the only time in her life when it

+would make any difference! A time when she

+longed for wings to carry her to her father's side

+and let her throw her arms around his neck.</p>

+

+<p>She looked at Edgar's frowning, questioning

+face with curious vagueness.</p>

+

+<p>"Father has lost a great deal of money," she

+said, "and friends as well, because he would not

+yield to plans which he considered dishonorable.

+He told me before we left that it might come;

+but he had no idea the crisis was right upon

+him. Oh, I must, I must go to father&mdash;at once&mdash;at

+once!" The girl limped toward the door.</p>

+

+<p>"You can't go to-day," said Phil decidedly,<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_475" id="Page_475">[475]</a></span>

+"but I can. I will go on this next boat with Mr.

+Tremaine. Tell me what&mdash;"</p>

+

+<p>"What are you talking about!" It was Edgar

+who spoke, and his tone turned every eye upon

+him. His nostrils were dilated and his eyes

+looked dark. "Father in trouble! I'm going to

+him, of course."</p>

+

+<p>He tried to speak quietly, but there was a

+thrill in his tone that echoed in Kathleen's heart.

+She knew as she looked at the new stern expression

+of the <i lang="fr" xml:lang="fr">debonair</i> countenance that in that

+minute the boy had become a man.</p>

+

+<p>Violet gazed at him with a swelling heart

+and swept poor Phil with a supercilious glance

+wholly undeserved, but of which he was unconscious.</p>

+

+<p>Edgar hastened into the house to make his

+preparations and Kathleen and Phil exchanged

+a look.</p>

+

+<p>"It's all for the best," said Phil in a low tone.

+"Edgar will find himself."</p>

+

+<p>Kathleen's hands were clasped on her breast.

+Mrs. Fabian regarded her beseechingly. "What

+do you mean?" she cried, her voice breaking

+hysterically. "Money and friends! What do

+you mean?"</p>

+

+<p>Kathleen sank into the chair beside her. "I<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_476" id="Page_476">[476]</a></span>

+mean that father is an honest man," she said

+proudly.</p>

+

+<p>Mr. Tremaine came to Mrs. Fabian's other

+side. "I was at college with your husband," he

+said. "Henry Fabian was always doing fine

+things. I suspect that this last move, whatever

+it is, is one of the finest. I would trust him before

+I would myself."</p>

+

+<p>Mrs. Fabian looked from one to the other,

+tears running down her cheeks.</p>

+

+<p>"I can't have my portrait painted, Phil," she

+faltered. "We're very poor."</p>

+

+<p>Phil knelt down before her and put his arms

+around her and she rested her head on his shoulder

+and sobbed quietly.</p>

+

+<p>"Perhaps not poor," he said; "but what if you

+are, Aunt Isabel? Look about at this beautiful

+place with everything to make people happy.

+Health and freedom and honor beside; and Edgar

+will bring his father here and everything will

+straighten out and we shall make him forget his

+troubles."</p>

+

+<p>"No motor, Phil," came from the sobbing woman.

+"I can't imagine living without a motor."</p>

+

+<p>"Indeed you can. You're going to show Mr.

+Fabian what a good sport he married; and we're

+all going to cheer him up and make him forget<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_477" id="Page_477">[477]</a></span>

+his nightmare before fall. You have everything

+that's real left&mdash;unless Mr. Fabian breaks

+down under this strain," added Phil artfully.</p>

+

+<p>He had struck the right note. Mrs. Fabian

+lifted her head and wiped her eyes wildly. "I'm

+going with Edgar," she cried. "Henry may be

+ill. I shall go."</p>

+

+<p>"No, dear mother," said Kathleen, gently

+taking her hand. "Let Edgar manage this

+alone. He will wire us at once."</p>

+

+<p>It was nearly time for the boat and Edgar

+came out of the house with his bag. All his

+machinations of the morning had not succeeded

+in bringing to Violet's eyes the expression that

+grew there when she saw him ready to start on

+his hard journey. Speechless and unsmiling he

+pressed her hand, then kissed his mother and

+listened to her exhortations. Mr. Tremaine was

+ready, and together they started toward the

+wharf.</p>

+

+<p>Philip was going to accompany them, but his

+aunt clung to him.</p>

+

+<p>"Stay with us, Phil," she begged. "You are

+my son, too."</p>

+

+<hr class="tb" />

+

+<p>Mr. Fabian, heavy-lidded from a sleepless

+night, was working at the desk in his private<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_478" id="Page_478">[478]</a></span>

+office, when the door opened and closed quietly

+and quickly, and he looked up to see Edgar

+standing beside him. An added cloud passed

+over his face.</p>

+

+<p>The young man saw it and he paid for many

+a misdemeanor in the pang it gave him.</p>

+

+<p>"Father, I've come to see if I can be of any

+use," he said.</p>

+

+<p>Mr. Fabian pushed his chair back and looked

+up at his visitor, the deep line in his forehead

+deeper.</p>

+

+<p>"I know I have no experience, and little business

+sense; but if you'll take the trouble to explain

+the situation to me, I'll try to understand

+as I've never before tried to do anything; and

+I can at least carry out your instructions to the

+letter."</p>

+

+<p>Mr. Fabian continued to gaze up into the sunburned

+face and the eyes that regarded him

+with steady purpose.</p>

+

+<p>"I've lost a lot of money for you, my boy,"

+he said. "Quite a half of everything I possessed."</p>

+

+<p>"And come out clean," returned the other

+promptly. "Good for you."</p>

+

+<p>Mr. Fabian kept silence, studying him for

+another space.</p>

+

+<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_479" id="Page_479">[479]</a></span></p>

+

+<p>"My son," he said at last, slowly, as if to himself.

+"I have a son"; and he held out his hand.</p>

+

+<p>Edgar clasped it in silence. Then he spoke

+again. "I haven't had any breakfast, and of

+course I couldn't sleep; so my head isn't worth

+much just now. Can you spare time to come

+out and talk to me while I eat, or shall I go

+alone?"</p>

+

+<p>Mr. Fabian rose and his heavy eyes had

+brightened. "Neither of us will go alone, after

+this," he said.</p>

+

+<hr class="chap" />

+

+<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_480" id="Page_480">[480]</a></span></p>

+

+

+

+

+<div class="chapter">

+<h2>CHAPTER XXVIII</h2>

+</div>

+

+<p class="ph3">A TIDAL WAVE</p>

+

+

+<p>Mr. Fabian's firm stand resulted in a dissolution

+of his partnership, and very soon he was

+able to repair with Edgar to the island.</p>

+

+<p>The son had found the man-to-man relationship

+with his father a strangely sweet one; and

+by the time they reached the island&mdash;so deeply

+had his father's steadfastness and suffering

+worked upon Edgar, he had no other plan than

+that of rejuvenating the tired man's strained

+nerves. Therefore, when Mr. Fabian reached

+the heavenly calm of his hill cottage, he found

+his wife and daughter ready to accompany him

+on a cruise. Mrs. Fabian, lukewarm sailor

+though she was, was as fully prepared as Kathleen;

+and with scarcely any delay they all

+started out on the yacht. Mr. Fabian urged

+Phil to join the party, but he could not leave

+his work, and in any case would not add himself

+to a family party at this time. He and Violet

+stood on the shore and watched the white sails

+swell as they caught the wind.</p>

+

+<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_481" id="Page_481">[481]</a></span></p>

+

+<p>Edgar had been so absorbed in his father and

+his plans that she had but a flying glimpse of

+him after his return from New York; but it

+flattered her to observe that he had left his

+mustache in the metropolis.</p>

+

+<p>Philip's assiduous work during the summer

+resulted in finished pictures and numerous

+sketches, all of which he carried back in the

+autumn to the stable where Pat met him with

+effusion.</p>

+

+<p>"Sure 'tis a red Injun ye are!" he exclaimed

+at sight of his lodger's mahogany tints.</p>

+

+<p>"Yes, and next summer, Pat, if I'm not a

+pauper, you're coming up there to get a red nose,

+too," responded Phil.</p>

+

+<p>The first step toward independence had been

+made. He had finished the illustrations for

+Kathleen's fairy tales, and but a few days after

+his return, Mr. Tremaine came to the studio

+to welcome him and show him the first copy of

+the book; for it was October before Phil had consented

+to leave his enthralling Villa, being finally

+shooed out by Eliza who insisted that he either

+come over to them and live in a Christian house,

+or go back to his warm stable.</p>

+

+<p>Phil was eager for news that Mr. Tremaine

+could give him.</p>

+

+<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_482" id="Page_482">[482]</a></span></p>

+

+<p>"Aunt Isabel has written me very little," he

+said. "I know they are settled in an apartment

+near the park, but how are they all, and how

+do they bear the change?"</p>

+

+<p>"Wonderfully well," was the reply. "Mrs.

+Fabian is the one to feel the pinch, of course.

+Kathleen, not at all. She has too much resource

+within herself to be dependent, and then there

+are not a few people of influence who would find

+a Van Ruysler if she hid herself on the East

+Side."</p>

+

+<p>It was true, Mrs. Fabian lived too much in

+reflected glory to suffer loneliness, and as the

+winter went on Kathleen drew her into artistic

+circles where Philip's interests lay, and gradually

+she gained much pride and satisfaction in

+the understanding of technical terms, and

+learned not to discuss pictures. She even occasionally

+felt some remorse in the remembrance

+of Mrs. Ballard and was conscious of a wish that

+she might have sympathized with her more.</p>

+

+<p>The startling event in the family, however,

+was provided by Edgar. The great Mazzini was

+as good as his word, and Edgar Fabian started

+in at once, on his return to New York, as a

+teacher of the vocal art. Successful is too mild

+a word to be applied to the young tenor.<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_483" id="Page_483">[483]</a></span>

+Mazzini procured him opportunities to sing in

+drawing-rooms where he had heretofore been

+the entertained. He sent pupils to him, and they

+advertised him <i lang="it" xml:lang="it">con amore</i>. Before the winter

+was over he became a fad. He drew a good salary

+in a fashionable church. Other musicians

+sneered at him as a <i lang="fr" xml:lang="fr">poseur</i>, and turned their

+lunch tables into knockers' clubs to ease their

+minds concerning the vagaries of this upstart.</p>

+

+<p>Edgar, with his characteristic self-assurance

+gave full play to the moods of which he had

+spoken in the past to Violet. Perhaps he was not

+blind to the fact that it was good advertising,

+but in any case it was a temperamental fling

+which gave him the utmost satisfaction.</p>

+

+<p>He had different sets of hangings made,

+divan covers, cushions, et cetera, easily removed

+and placed in a box couch, so that his pupils

+sometimes found a purple studio, sometimes a

+crimson, sometimes one in luminous gold. None

+knew beforehand in which mood the wonderful

+young <i lang="it" xml:lang="it">maestro</i> would be found; and they talked

+of him with bated breath.</p>

+

+<p>His sister took the liberty, early in his career,

+of laughing at this ebullition of fancy, but she

+soon found that Edgar took himself seriously,

+and she repressed her smiles; for nothing suc<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_484" id="Page_484">[484]</a></span>ceeds

+like success; and Edgar Van Ruysler

+Fabian was an idol whom it was not her place

+to knock from his pedestal.</p>

+

+<p>Violet Manning meanwhile was industriously

+proceeding with her own teaching. As some of

+it lay in fashionable schools, she heard echoes

+of Edgar's popularity, and she and her housemates

+often attended the church where he sang.

+He came to their apartment occasionally and

+relaxed from the strain of living up to the ideal

+of his admirers whom he terrorized grandly at

+moments, after the most approved Mazzini

+methods.</p>

+

+<p>Once he had the three bachelor maids at a

+chafing-dish supper at his studio. He was in a

+red mood that night, and the crimson hangings

+reminded Violet of the glowing heart which

+always lay on her dressing-table.</p>

+

+<p>The function was an informal and jolly one.

+One of the men present was Edgar's accompanist,

+and he had played for Violet to dance.

+It was a triumphant occasion for the girl. She

+looked charming in a thin iridescent gown which

+changed with the blues and greens of the sea

+while she floated and pirouetted, as light and

+tireless as thistledown. Edgar's eyes were

+bright with pride in her and she was wildly<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_485" id="Page_485">[485]</a></span>

+applauded, sharing the honors of the evening

+with him.</p>

+

+<p>Edgar sang the better for the inspiration of

+her, and when at her request he began, "O

+moon of my delight," she closed her eyes, shutting

+out the gay company and the diffused rosy

+light. Again she saw him stretched on the grass

+in the silvery radiance of a still, still night.</p>

+

+<p>"I think Mr. Fabian is in love with Violet,"

+said Regina afterward, privately, to Roxana.</p>

+

+<p>"I think he is in love with himself," returned

+Roxana; "and I take off my hat to Violet, for

+I believe she knows it, too. I'm afraid if I were

+her age and he wanted me, I'd marry him even

+if I knew he'd beat me all the time he wasn't

+singing."</p>

+

+<p>Her housemates noticed that Violet never

+spoke of Edgar, and they drew their conclusions.

+She had a sketch of his head done by Phil in an

+idle moment, pinned up on her wall. That and

+the bonbon box were the only evidences of the

+acquaintance save those occasional calls with

+which Edgar favored the apartment. The fact

+that he came at all was important, for his engagements

+were legion.</p>

+

+<p>Philip carried himself much as he had done

+the winter before. Through the Fabians and<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_486" id="Page_486">[486]</a></span>

+Mr. Tremaine he began to have invitations, but

+he declined them. Mr. Tremaine bought the

+painting of the wave which he had seen at the

+island, and one of his friends bought another of

+Phil's marines.</p>

+

+<p>The artist kept on with his work in the life

+class at the Academy. Edgar sometimes tried

+to get him for a festivity at the studio, but, as

+he told his sister in disgust, one might as well

+try to get the Shah of Persia.</p>

+

+<p>Every Sunday evening Phil spent at the Fabians'

+but never since he had returned to town

+had he made opportunity to resume a disturbing

+intimacy with Kathleen. Her book was

+having a fairly good sale, and the girl was at

+work upon another. Their lives lay apart mainly

+except on the Sunday evenings when Mr. Fabian,

+once again adjusted to his business life,

+claimed the guest far more than any of the

+others.</p>

+

+<p>Edgar, finding that the propinquity of Phil

+and Violet during his absence in the summer

+had not produced any results, altered his expectations

+of trouble from that quarter. He

+made it a point to spend his Sunday evenings

+with the family, in order, as his mother said,

+to keep up the acquaintance; and on one of these<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_487" id="Page_487">[487]</a></span>

+evenings, toward spring, he brought Violet

+Manning to supper.</p>

+

+<p>The busy young teacher's friendship with

+Kathleen had not progressed. The latter firmly

+believed that any romantic notions which such

+a girl might conceive for Edgar would bring

+her to grief in the end; and his present amazing

+popularity but augmented that conviction; so

+the girls had exchanged one call only during the

+season.</p>

+

+<p>Violet responded to Mrs. Fabian's invitation

+for this Sunday and Edgar regarded her critically

+throughout the evening.</p>

+

+<p>Never had he felt himself such authority on

+girls as now. They crowded his studio. Fashionable

+girls, wealthy girls, pretty girls, plain girls,

+clever ones, dull ones, aggressive, and shy girls;

+and he had frequently detected himself comparing

+the more interesting with Violet. Her

+spirit, her poise, her independence, her compact,

+graceful, healthy body, always stood the

+test.</p>

+

+<p>As of old, to-night she seemed more interested

+in Phil than in himself. Her spontaneous joy

+over the news that during the past week he had

+sold a third picture, actually roused again Edgar's

+old train of thought. How did he know<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_488" id="Page_488">[488]</a></span>

+what had occurred during the summer, between

+the farmhouse and the Villa? Were these two

+only waiting, perhaps, until Phil began to find

+a sale for his pictures?</p>

+

+<p>Poor little Violet was not intriguing. She

+found herself embarrassed in Edgar's family

+circle, and she was defending herself in the only

+way she knew. It seemed as if it must be legible

+on her face that she out-adored the adoration

+of all the singer's pupils; and it was a relief to

+her when she and the object were at last in a

+taxicab on the way home. The cover of the

+darkness, and the sober return to thoughts of

+to-morrow's duties, made her heave an inaudible

+sigh; but it is the unexpected that always

+happens.</p>

+

+<p>Edgar's teeth were tightly closed and every

+street-lamp they passed showed him gazing at

+his companion.</p>

+

+<p>"I wonder," he said at last,&mdash;"I wonder,

+Violet, why I've never been able to make you

+like me better. Other&mdash;other people like

+me."</p>

+

+<p>"Probably that's the reason," returned the

+girl lightly. "Some one must help strike an

+average."</p>

+

+<p>She did not say it easily; for she was obliged<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_489" id="Page_489">[489]</a></span>

+to swallow between sentences; but she said it

+pretty well, and applauded herself.</p>

+

+<p>"You see I love you, Violet," he went on, as

+simply as the most non-temperamental swain

+could have spoken.</p>

+

+<p>She shrank into her corner, and when he tried

+to take her hands she crossed them quickly

+on her breast.</p>

+

+<p>"Which mood is this?" she asked, a tumultuous

+beating under the crossed hands.</p>

+

+<p>"You don't believe me," said Edgar quietly.

+"It's true, Violet. I want you to marry me.

+You've made me believe once or twice&mdash;and

+yet the next moment I always feel your utter

+indifference. I'm afraid you're a flirt."</p>

+

+<p>"I know you are!" responded the girl, her

+fingers whitening against her fluttering heart.

+"I'm afraid of you, Edgar."</p>

+

+<p>Happiness leaped into his eyes and he gathered

+her hands into his in spite of her.</p>

+

+<p>"Have you ever seen 'The Concert'?" she

+asked breathlessly.</p>

+

+<p>"Oh, that's what you mean!" exclaimed

+Edgar triumphantly.</p>

+

+<p>"You shouldn't marry," said Violet. "You

+are like a matinée idol. You will lose your capital

+when you marry, unless you are like that<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_490" id="Page_490">[490]</a></span>

+selfish man. I warn you, I am not like that wonderful

+wife. I couldn't bear it."</p>

+

+<p>"You've thought about it, then," said Edgar

+joyously.</p>

+

+<p>"Yes, oh, yes," replied Violet, her defences

+down and tears welling through her half-closed

+lids. "I'm sure I should be miserable."</p>

+

+<p>"Then you love me." Edgar drew her out of

+her corner into his arms. "Violet, I promise

+you&mdash;"</p>

+

+<p>"Dear," she interrupted him, "I am just as

+much afraid of myself as of you. No convention

+would hold me. The minute I found you were

+not honest with me&mdash;that you concealed from

+me&mdash;I should go. You would look about, and

+I shouldn't be there."</p>

+

+<p>Edgar held her close in ecstatic possession.</p>

+

+<p>"And that's why I'll be honest with you,

+Violet. I swear it. If we're both honest, what

+can&mdash;"</p>

+

+<p>The taxi-cab driver threw open the door.</p>

+

+<hr class="tb" />

+

+<p>Once again the daisy-snow drifted over the

+hills on Brewster's Island; and Eliza sat in the

+doorway of the Villa Chantecler watching Phil

+adjust his possessions.</p>

+

+<p>"When are the Fabians coming?" she asked.</p>

+

+<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_491" id="Page_491">[491]</a></span></p>

+

+<p>"Next week."</p>

+

+<p>"Are you and Miss Kathleen goin' to do

+another book this year?"</p>

+

+<p>"I hope so. She's going to let me see her

+story when she comes. She has written her first

+novel."</p>

+

+<p>Eliza's eyes studied him sharply during a

+silence.</p>

+

+<p>"Is she engaged yet?" she asked.</p>

+

+<p>"Not that I know of."</p>

+

+<p>"I thought you two were pretty thick one

+time there last summer."</p>

+

+<p>"It's not for the likes o' me to be thick with

+the likes o' her," replied Phil, busy setting up

+an easel.</p>

+

+<p>"I'd like to know why not," retorted Eliza,

+who had read between the lines of Phil's letters

+during the winter; and illustrated her imaginings

+with looks and actions remembered from the

+season before. "Think of the pictures you've

+sold this winter. Look how quick you've begun

+your success. Has Kathleen many beaux?"</p>

+

+<p>"She has worshippers," returned Phil, with

+a slight smile; "and several of them come

+much nearer to her than I can."</p>

+

+<p>"You can if you want to," said Eliza bluntly;

+"you're a great fool if you don't."</p>

+

+<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_492" id="Page_492">[492]</a></span></p>

+

+<p>Philip turned and looked at the speaker in

+surprise. Her words were so exactly opposite

+to the training he gave himself night and morning.</p>

+

+<p>"'Tain't as if her father was so rich any

+more. Nobody could say you was after money,

+and," Eliza's voice lost its hardness, "your&mdash;your

+Aunt Mary left me her ring you remember."</p>

+

+<p>Phil smiled at her openly now, then he went

+on with his work.</p>

+

+<p>"You're a loyal soul, Eliza, and you always

+yearn to give me everything I want; but Miss

+Fabian will be married long before I'm able to

+ask any woman to trust herself to me."</p>

+

+<p>Eliza gave him a fierce nod and drew down

+the corners of her mouth.</p>

+

+<p>"<em>I&mdash;don't&mdash;believe it!</em>" she said, so significantly

+that Phil flushed and looked at her

+again.</p>

+

+<p>"<em>I've</em> got eyes if you haven't," she added;

+and with this Parthian shot she rose and went

+back to the house.</p>

+

+<p>Philip went on with his work, but the flush

+stayed, and there was a line between his shining

+eyes.</p>

+

+<p>At this juncture Pat came up from the wharf<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_493" id="Page_493">[493]</a></span>

+with a heavy package. The family had returned

+to the house in Gramercy Park, and he and

+Phil had vacated the stable this spring.</p>

+

+<p>"Sure the Queen o' Sheby hersilf stepped off

+the boat," he announced as he came into the

+Villa.</p>

+

+<p>"My Aunt come!" exclaimed Phil, turning

+around quickly. "I wonder what changed their

+plan. Was she alone?"</p>

+

+<p>"She was not, thin," declared the Irishman

+proudly. "D'ye think the Princess didn't

+come straight up and hold out her pretty hand

+with a smile swate enough to beckon the bees?

+'How d'ye do, Pat,' says she. ''Tis fine ye're to

+be here this summer,' says she. 'We shall call

+upon you for a lot o' help,' she says."</p>

+

+<p>Philip stood still in indecision. No, he wouldn't

+hurry over. They knew he was not expecting

+the arrival; and he fell to business again.</p>

+

+<p>The Irishman looked about him, on pictures

+and sketches.</p>

+

+<p>"Sure 'tis a power o' work ye've done, me

+bye," he said. "I feel I shud have on a bathin'

+suit to look at 'em."</p>

+

+<p>Eliza from her window saw Captain James

+drive up to the boulder cottage and saw the

+ladies dismount, and with them the maid of<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_494" id="Page_494">[494]</a></span>

+all work with whom they intended this year to

+live the simple life. Pat would be a valuable

+auxiliary.</p>

+

+<p>It was evening before Phil went across the

+field to call. A brilliant planet showed a pale

+wake of light across the water, forerunner of the

+moon which was soon to rise.</p>

+

+<p>"So serene, so soft, is she," thought Phil, in

+whose head Eliza's words still rang, "and so

+remote," he added. "So she shines on me, and

+on all, alike. Eliza hasn't seen the others, so

+she thinks me selected"; and he pressed down

+the stopper which a long time ago he fitted to

+repress disturbing emotions; for in the last hours

+they had effervesced threateningly around its

+rough edges.</p>

+

+<p>Mrs. Fabian received him effusively and

+Kathleen with the calm directness to which he

+had adjusted himself.</p>

+

+<p>"Your portrait comes off this summer, Aunt

+Isabel," he said.</p>

+

+<p>"I can't afford it, my dear," she answered.</p>

+

+<p>Phil shook his head. "If I painted a portrait

+of every Fabian on earth, would it pay my debt

+to you?" he asked. "And anyway I have the

+finest collection of Sidneys in the country; but

+there isn't a portrait among them."</p>

+

+<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_495" id="Page_495">[495]</a></span></p>

+

+<p>"Do yourself sometime, Phil, will you?"

+suggested Kathleen.</p>

+

+<p>"Yes, and you," he replied. "I want to do a

+picture of you on my terrace. Pat and I have

+brought up the bay to-day; and I want to begin

+it immediately."</p>

+

+<p>"I know," laughed Kathleen. "You want to

+do both mother and me before our complexions

+desert us."</p>

+

+<p>"I'll take you alternate days if you'll let me.

+I'd like you to-morrow, for my background is

+just as I want it." He turned to Mrs. Fabian.

+"Will you lend me your daughter to-morrow?

+I have the finest of Irish terriers for a watch-dog,

+you know."</p>

+

+<p>Mrs. Fabian shrugged her shoulders. "I certainly

+shan't waste my time chaperoning you

+two cousins at this late day," she answered.</p>

+

+<p>On the afternoon following Eliza met Kathleen

+coming across the field. She looked at her

+in surprise, for instead of khaki the girl was

+wearing a filmy white gown whose length was

+lifted from the clover and buttercups, and carried

+over her arm.</p>

+

+<p>Eliza looked admiringly at the lithe figure,

+and the deep eyes that beamed kindly upon her.</p>

+

+<p>"No wonder you are startled, Eliza; I am<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_496" id="Page_496">[496]</a></span>

+going to sit for my portrait," she said, clasping

+Miss Brewster's hard hand.</p>

+

+<p>"You look as if you was ready for your wedding,"

+returned Eliza.</p>

+

+<p>"I should like it to be here if I ever have one,"

+said Kathleen; and Eliza watched the rose-color

+spread from the girl's cheek to her brow, while

+the young eyes kept their steady, kind regard;

+then she inquired of Eliza as to the winter.</p>

+

+<p>"I do believe she kind o' likes me for his

+sake," thought Eliza, standing still to look

+after the slender, graceful figure when Kathleen

+moved on amid the daisies and clover.</p>

+

+<p>"She's a flower herself. That's what she is,

+and Mr. Philip didn't go as red as a beet for

+nothin' when I spoke yesterday. He thinks

+she's above him. There ain't anybody above

+him!"</p>

+

+<p>Whatever was the errand that had brought

+Eliza into the field this afternoon she abandoned

+it, and turned slowly back toward the farmhouse,

+glancing often at the Villa through whose

+door the slender white figure had disappeared.</p>

+

+<p>"I wish there was somethin' I could do to help

+'em," she thought. "That pretty critter can't

+do a thing against Mr. Philip's determination

+if he's set out. I know <em>him</em>."</p>

+

+<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_497" id="Page_497">[497]</a></span></p>

+

+<p>"Why was Kathleen so exquisite?" asked

+Mrs. Wright as Eliza came in.</p>

+

+<p>"Settin' for her portrait," answered Eliza

+absently. "Said she was too dressed up to come

+and see you, but would come to-morrow."</p>

+

+<p>"She was a picture already, coming bareheaded

+through that flowery field," said Mrs.

+Wright.</p>

+

+<p>Eliza did not respond. She disappeared into

+her own room and closed the door. Then she

+unlocked her trunk and took from its depths

+a package which she untied, disclosing a fine

+camel's-hair shawl. She unfolded it with loving

+fingers, and regarded it. "A good enough weddin'

+present even for her," she muttered.</p>

+

+<p>Then she reached into another corner and

+took out a tin box which she unlocked and drew

+forth a tiny velvet case, rubbed and worn.

+When she opened this, tears rushed to her eyes

+and she lifted it to her lips. "Nothin' could

+make you so happy, my dear one," she murmured

+brokenly. "Nothin'! Nothin'!"</p>

+

+<hr class="tb" />

+

+<p>Half an hour later Eliza entered the Villa.

+Pat was doing some scraping of palette knives

+in the kitchen. She looked timidly out on the

+terrace. A lovely living picture met her eyes.<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_498" id="Page_498">[498]</a></span>

+Kathleen was sitting on the white railing, her

+filmy gown falling in folds at her feet. Behind

+her rose the bay-crowned pillar casting shadows

+on the red-glints of her hair.</p>

+

+<p>"Mr. Philip, please excuse me," said Eliza

+humbly; "but could you spare Pat to go on an

+errand for us?"</p>

+

+<p>"Yes, yes," replied Phil absently, working

+at a white heat.</p>

+

+<p>Eliza withdrew with quiet celerity. The errand

+she required was to be performed at a distance,

+and she was so nervous while she gave

+Pat directions that he grinned at her.</p>

+

+<p>"Ye're thinkin' about <em>thim</em>!" he said, jerking

+his thumb over his shoulder in the direction of

+the terrace.</p>

+

+<p>Eliza's eyes widened. "Why in the world

+should I think about them?" she asked, all the

+time tolling Pat away toward the farmhouse.</p>

+

+<p>"I cud look at 'em from now till Christmas

+sittin' there," he responded. "I don't blame

+ye."</p>

+

+<hr class="tb" />

+

+<p>"I haven't asked you about the turtle

+doves," said Phil, sketching in Kathleen's

+hands.</p>

+

+<p>"They believe themselves the happiest people<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_499" id="Page_499">[499]</a></span>

+in the world, and perhaps they are. Violet has

+really convinced me that she is the right girl for

+Edgar. A meek one would have little chance."</p>

+

+<p>"They're coming up here, I suppose."</p>

+

+<p>"Oh, yes. Edgar can't get his vacation from

+the church quite yet, and she'll not come till he

+can."</p>

+

+<p>"Of course not," replied Phil simply. "How

+can one voluntarily live without the other a day

+after the great discovery is made?"</p>

+

+<p>Kathleen made no answer to this. The lump

+that rose in her throat was rebellious; and the

+artist, looking up suddenly, met fire in the

+depths of her dark eyes. The lids dropped. His

+hand grew suddenly unsteady.</p>

+

+<p>"Tell me when you're tired, Kathleen," he

+said. "We have the summer." He smiled as he

+spoke; but it was a rigid sort of smile.</p>

+

+<p>The field sown thickly with the late wild-flowers

+of the island, and stretching to a sparkling

+sea, the rustling orchard leaves, and the

+crown of bay behind the queenly young head,

+the soft white figure with the loosely dropped

+hands! It was no time or place for Kathleen to

+look at him like that.</p>

+

+<p>"I'm tired now, I believe," she said, quietly.

+"Will it be enough for to-day?"</p>

+

+<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_500" id="Page_500">[500]</a></span></p>

+

+<p>"At least until you're rested. Come in

+and let me show you a sketch I did yesterday."</p>

+

+<p>She rose and lifted her white shoulders with

+a movement of weariness, then they moved inside

+the room.</p>

+

+<p>A vase of daisies stood on the table. "I believe,"

+said Phil, "I should have asked you to

+wear daisies in your hair."</p>

+

+<p>They were standing by the table and he took

+three of the long stems and breaking them to

+convenient length made a movement toward

+her head. Then he shrank. "Put them in, will

+you?" he asked.</p>

+

+<p>The least smile touched her lips, and her

+hands hung down.</p>

+

+<p>"You know best what you want," she replied

+and inclined her regal head toward him.</p>

+

+<p>The golden radiance streamed through the

+small-paned windows and reddened her hair.</p>

+

+<p>Phil's fingers trembled as they tucked the

+flower stems under the soft folds. He dropped

+his eyes from the lustrous tints, and they caught

+a sudden elusive spark of violet, then green that

+shone on the table. He looked closer, and

+pointed.</p>

+

+<p>"Did you leave your ring there?" he asked.</p>

+

+<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_501" id="Page_501">[501]</a></span></p>

+

+<p>Kathleen looked. A diamond ring was shining

+beneath the tall candlestick.</p>

+

+<p>She shook her daisy-crowned head.</p>

+

+<p>"It's not mine," she said, wondering. "I

+never saw it."</p>

+

+<p>"Nor I." Phil's breath came faster. "This is

+an enchanted place, Kathleen. The very spirit

+of the sea must have pitied me in my struggle

+and brought this ring." The ring! He looked

+at it, dazed for another moment, then like a

+flash he remembered Eliza's interruption, and

+his illumined eyes met Kathleen's, grave and

+wondering.</p>

+

+<p>"I adore you, my darling. I give up the fight."

+He kept his eyes on hers as he picked up the

+quaint little jewel and pressed it to his lips.</p>

+

+<p>Kathleen smiled at him, then her eyes veiled

+and dropped.</p>

+

+<p>He lifted her hand and slowly put the ring on

+her finger; for the inner sanctuary of her heart

+had flown open, and he had seen within.</p>

+

+<p>Quickly he clasped her close in his arms. She

+clung to him, and the golden radiance enveloped

+them.</p>

+

+

+<p class="center">THE END</p>

+

+

+<div class='transnote'><h3>Transcriber's Notes:</h3>

+    <p>Minor punctuation and printer errors repaired.</p>

+

+    <p>Every effort has been made to replicate this text as faithfully

+    as possible, including obsolete and variant spellings and other

+    inconsistencies.</p>

+</div>

+

+

+

+

+

+

+

+

+<pre>

+

+

+

+

+

+End of the Project Gutenberg EBook of The Inner Flame, by Clara Louise Burnham

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+</pre>

+

+  </body>

+</html>

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