diff options
| author | nfenwick <nfenwick@pglaf.org> | 2025-02-07 01:04:10 -0800 |
|---|---|---|
| committer | nfenwick <nfenwick@pglaf.org> | 2025-02-07 01:04:10 -0800 |
| commit | 1443d5aafd55dd9a1b412ac99b053f53625fb16c (patch) | |
| tree | 12f320d5e06fb2f9a31e916987cf5a67efadddb2 /old/54544-h | |
| parent | 349b137a91af24ddcfe7b5e5d217d3ba41429070 (diff) | |
Diffstat (limited to 'old/54544-h')
| -rw-r--r-- | old/54544-h/54544-h.htm | 17266 | ||||
| -rw-r--r-- | old/54544-h/images/cover.jpg | bin | 207578 -> 0 bytes | |||
| -rw-r--r-- | old/54544-h/images/image01.jpg | bin | 74910 -> 0 bytes | |||
| -rw-r--r-- | old/54544-h/images/image02.jpg | bin | 87890 -> 0 bytes | |||
| -rw-r--r-- | old/54544-h/images/image03.jpg | bin | 87306 -> 0 bytes | |||
| -rw-r--r-- | old/54544-h/images/image04.jpg | bin | 82515 -> 0 bytes | |||
| -rw-r--r-- | old/54544-h/images/image05.jpg | bin | 10952 -> 0 bytes | |||
| -rw-r--r-- | old/54544-h/images/image06.jpg | bin | 17066 -> 0 bytes | |||
| -rw-r--r-- | old/54544-h/images/image07.jpg | bin | 14710 -> 0 bytes | |||
| -rw-r--r-- | old/54544-h/images/logo.jpg | bin | 3082 -> 0 bytes |
10 files changed, 0 insertions, 17266 deletions
diff --git a/old/54544-h/54544-h.htm b/old/54544-h/54544-h.htm deleted file mode 100644 index ddfb492..0000000 --- a/old/54544-h/54544-h.htm +++ /dev/null @@ -1,17266 +0,0 @@ -<!DOCTYPE html PUBLIC "-//W3C//DTD XHTML 1.0 Strict//EN" - "http://www.w3.org/TR/xhtml1/DTD/xhtml1-strict.dtd"> -<html xmlns="http://www.w3.org/1999/xhtml" xml:lang="en" lang="en"> - <head> - <meta http-equiv="Content-Type" content="text/html;charset=utf-8" /> - <meta http-equiv="Content-Style-Type" content="text/css" /> - <title> - The Silent Battle, by George Gibbs—A Project Gutenberg eBook. - </title> - <link rel="coverpage" href="images/cover.jpg" /> - - <style type="text/css"> - -/* DACSoft styles */ - -body { - margin-left: 10%; - margin-right: 10%; -} - -/* General headers */ -h1{ - text-align: center; /* all headings centered */ - clear: both; -} - -/* Chapter headers */ -h2 { - text-align: center; - font-weight: bold; - line-height: 1.5em; -} - -/* Indented paragraph */ -p { - margin-top: .51em; - margin-bottom: .49em; - text-align: justify; - text-indent: 1em; -} - -/* Unindented paragraph */ -.noi { text-indent: 0em; } - -/* Centered unindented paragraph */ -.noic { - text-indent: 0em; - text-align: center; -} - -/* Drop caps */ -p.cap { text-indent: 0em; } - -p.cap:first-letter { - float: left; - padding-right: 3px; - font-size: 250%; - line-height: 83%; -} - -/* Non-standard paragraph margins */ -.p2 { margin-top: 2em; } -.p4 { margin-top: 4em; } -.p6 { margin-top: 6em; } - -.ppb2 { - padding-bottom: 2em; -} - -.ppt2 { - padding-top: 2em; -} - -.pad4 { - margin-top: 4em; - margin-bottom: 4em; -} - -/* Horizontal rules */ -hr { - width: 33%; - margin-top: 2em; - margin-bottom: 2em; - margin-left: 33.5%; - margin-right: 33.5%; - clear: both; -} - -hr.tb {width: 35%; margin-left: 32.5%; margin-right: 32.5%;} -hr.chap {width: 65%; margin-left: 17.5%; margin-right: 17.5%;} - -hr.r20 { - width: 20%; - margin-left: 40%; - margin-right: 40%; - margin-top: 1em; - margin-bottom: 1em; -} - -/* Tables */ -table { - margin-left: auto; - margin-right: auto; -} - -/* Table cell alignments */ -.tdl {text-align: left;} - -.tdrb { - text-align: right; - vertical-align: bottom; -} - -.tdrt { - text-align: right; - vertical-align: top; -} - -th { - font-weight: normal; -} - -/* Physical book page and line numbers */ -.pagenum { /* uncomment the next line for invisible page numbers */ - /* visibility: hidden; */ - position: absolute; - right: 3%; -/* left: 92%; */ - font-size: x-small; - text-align: right; - color: gray; -} /* page numbers */ - -/* Blockquotes */ -.blockquot { - margin-top: 1em; - margin-left: 10%; - margin-right: 10%; - margin-bottom: 1em; -} - -/* Alignment */ -.right {text-align: right;} - -/* Text appearance */ -.smcap {font-variant: small-caps;} - -/* Small fonts and lowercase small-caps */ -.smfont { - font-size: .8em; -} - -.smfontr { - font-size: .75em; - text-align: right; -} - -/* Illustration caption */ -.caption { - font-size: .75em; - font-weight: bold; -} - -/* Images */ -img { - max-width: 100%; /* no image to be wider than screen or containing div */ - height:auto; /* keep height in proportion to width */ -} - -.figcenter { - margin: auto; - text-align: center; - max-width: 100%; /* div no wider than screen, even when screen is narrow */ -} - -.figleft { - float: left; - clear: left; - margin-left: 0; - margin-bottom: 0.5em; - margin-top: 0.5em; - margin-right: 1em; - padding: 0; - text-align: center; - max-width: 50%; -} - -@media handheld { -.figleft { - float: left; - margin: 0; - text-align: center; - } -} - -/* Poetry */ -.poem { - margin-left:10%; - margin-right:10%; - text-align: left; -} - -.poem br {display: none;} - -.poem .stanza {margin: 1em 0em 1em 0em;} - -.poem span.i0 { - display: block; - margin-left: 0em; - padding-left: 3em; - text-indent: -3em; -} - -.poem span.i1 { - display: block; - margin-left: 0.5em; - padding-left: 3em; - text-indent: -3em; -} - -.poem span.i3 { - display: block; - margin-left: 1.5em; - padding-left: 3em; - text-indent: -3em; -} - -/* Transcriber's notes */ -.tnote { - background-color: #E6E6FA; - margin-left: 10%; - margin-right: 10%; - padding-bottom: .5em; - padding-top: .5em; - padding-left: .5em; - padding-right: .5em; -} - -.tntitle { - font-size: 1.25em; - font-weight: bold; - text-align: center; - clear: both; -} - -/* Title page borders and content. */ -.title { - font-size: 1.75em; - font-weight: bold; - text-align: center; - clear: both; -} - -.author { - font-size: 1.25em; - text-align: center; - clear: both; -} - -.works { - font-size: .75em; - text-align: center; - clear: both; -} - -/* Advertisement formatting. */ -.adtitle { - font-size: 1.5em; - font-weight: bold; - text-align: center; - clear: both; -} - -.adauthor { - font-size: 1.25em; - text-align: center; -} - - </style> - </head> -<body> - - -<pre> - -The Project Gutenberg EBook of The Silent Battle, by George Gibbs - -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 Silent Battle - -Author: George Gibbs - -Release Date: April 13, 2017 [EBook #54544] - -Language: English - -Character set encoding: UTF-8 - -*** START OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK THE SILENT BATTLE *** - - - - -Produced by Donald Cummings and the Online Distributed -Proofreading Team at http://www.pgdp.net (This file was -produced from images generously made available by The -Internet Archive/American Libraries.) - - - - - - -</pre> - - - -<div class="figcenter" style="width: 550px;"> -<img src="images/cover.jpg" width="550" height="818" alt="cover" title="cover" /> -</div> - - - - -<hr class="chap" /> -<p class="noic">THE SILENT BATTLE</p> - - - - -<hr class="chap" /> -<div class="figcenter" style="width: 397px;"> -<a id="image01"> - <img src="images/image01.jpg" width="397" height="600" alt="" title="" /> -</a><br /> -<div class="caption"><a href="#Page_203">“The table rang from end to end with joke and laughter.”</a></div> -</div> - - - - -<hr class="chap" /> -<h1>THE<br /> -SILENT BATTLE</h1> - -<p class="p2 noic">BY</p> - -<p class="noi author">GEORGE GIBBS</p> - -<p class="noic">AUTHOR OF<br /> -THE BOLTED DOOR,<br /> -THE FORBIDDEN WAY, ETC.</p> - -<p class="p2 noic">ILLUSTRATED</p> - -<div class="pad4"> -<div class="figcenter" style="width: 67px;"> -<img src="images/logo.jpg" width="67" height="64" alt="logo" title="logo" /> -</div> -</div> - -<p class="noic">NEW YORK<br /> -<span class="author">GROSSET & DUNLAP</span><br /> -PUBLISHERS</p> - - - - -<hr class="chap" /> -<p class="noic smcap">Copyright, 1913, by<br /> -D. APPLETON AND COMPANY</p> - -<hr class="r20" /> - -<p class="noic">Copyright, 1912, 1913, by the Pictorial Review Company</p> - - -<p class="p6 noic">Printed in the United States of America</p> - -<hr class="chap" /> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_v" id="Page_v">[v]</a></span></p> - - - - -<h2>CONTENTS</h2> - - -<table border="0" cellpadding="5" cellspacing="0" summary="Contents"> -<col style="width: 15%;" /> -<col style="width: 70%;" /> -<col style="width: 15%;" /> -<tr> - <th class="smfontr">CHAPTER</th> - <th class="tdl"></th> - <th class="smfontr">PAGE</th> -</tr> -<tr> - <td class="tdrt">I.</td> - <td class="tdl smcap"><a href="#I">Lost</a></td> - <td class="tdrb">1</td> -</tr> -<tr> - <td class="tdrt">II.</td> - <td class="tdl smcap"><a href="#II">Babes in the Woods</a></td> - <td class="tdrb">11</td> -</tr> -<tr> - <td class="tdrt">III.</td> - <td class="tdl smcap"><a href="#III">Voices</a></td> - <td class="tdrb">22</td> -</tr> -<tr> - <td class="tdrt">IV.</td> - <td class="tdl smcap"><a href="#IV">Eden</a></td> - <td class="tdrb">33</td> -</tr> -<tr> - <td class="tdrt">V.</td> - <td class="tdl smcap"><a href="#V">Woman and Man</a></td> - <td class="tdrb">46</td> -</tr> -<tr> - <td class="tdrt">VI.</td> - <td class="tdl smcap"><a href="#VI">The Shadow</a></td> - <td class="tdrb">60</td> -</tr> -<tr> - <td class="tdrt">VII.</td> - <td class="tdl smcap"><a href="#VII">Allegro</a></td> - <td class="tdrb">73</td> -</tr> -<tr> - <td class="tdrt">VIII.</td> - <td class="tdl smcap"><a href="#VIII">Chicot, the Jester</a></td> - <td class="tdrb">84</td> -</tr> -<tr> - <td class="tdrt">IX.</td> - <td class="tdl smcap"><a href="#IX">The Lorings</a></td> - <td class="tdrb">95</td> -</tr> -<tr> - <td class="tdrt">X.</td> - <td class="tdl smcap"><a href="#X">Mr. Van Duyn Rides Forth</a></td> - <td class="tdrb">109</td> -</tr> -<tr> - <td class="tdrt">XI.</td> - <td class="tdl smcap"><a href="#XI">The Cedarcroft Set</a></td> - <td class="tdrb">122</td> -</tr> -<tr> - <td class="tdrt">XII.</td> - <td class="tdl smcap"><a href="#XII">Nellie Pennington Cuts In</a></td> - <td class="tdrb">136</td> -</tr> -<tr> - <td class="tdrt">XIII.</td> - <td class="tdl smcap"><a href="#XIII">Mrs. Pennington’s Brougham</a></td> - <td class="tdrb">151</td> -</tr> -<tr> - <td class="tdrt">XIV.</td> - <td class="tdl smcap"><a href="#XIV">The Junior Member</a></td> - <td class="tdrb">166</td> -</tr> -<tr> - <td class="tdrt">XV.</td> - <td class="tdl smcap"><a href="#XV">Discovered</a></td> - <td class="tdrb">177</td> -</tr> -<tr> - <td class="tdrt">XVI.</td> - <td class="tdl smcap"><a href="#XVI">Behind the Enemy’s Back</a></td> - <td class="tdrb">190</td> -</tr> -<tr> - <td class="tdrt">XVII.</td> - <td class="tdl smcap"><a href="#XVII">“The Pot and Kettle”</a></td> - <td class="tdrb">200</td> -</tr> -<tr> - <td class="tdrt">XVIII.</td> - <td class="tdl smcap"><a href="#XVIII">The Enemy and a Friend</a></td> - <td class="tdrb">212</td> -</tr> -<tr> - <td class="tdrt">XIX.</td> - <td class="tdl smcap"><a href="#XIX">Love on Crutches</a></td> - <td class="tdrb">225</td> -</tr> -<tr> - <td class="tdrt">XX.</td> - <td class="tdl smcap"><a href="#XX">The Intruder</a></td> - <td class="tdrb">236</td> -</tr> -<tr> - <td class="tdrt">XXI.<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_vi" id="Page_vi">[vi]</a></span></td> - <td class="tdl smcap"><a href="#XXI">Temptation</a></td> - <td class="tdrb">247</td> -</tr> -<tr> - <td class="tdrt">XXII.</td> - <td class="tdl smcap"><a href="#XXII">Smoke and Fire</a></td> - <td class="tdrb">261</td> -</tr> -<tr> - <td class="tdrt">XXIII.</td> - <td class="tdl smcap"><a href="#XXIII">The Mouse and the Lion</a></td> - <td class="tdrb">273</td> -</tr> -<tr> - <td class="tdrt">XXIV.</td> - <td class="tdl smcap"><a href="#XXIV">Diamond Cut Diamond</a></td> - <td class="tdrb">285</td> -</tr> -<tr> - <td class="tdrt">XXV.</td> - <td class="tdl smcap"><a href="#XXV">Deep Water</a></td> - <td class="tdrb">297</td> -</tr> -<tr> - <td class="tdrt">XXVI.</td> - <td class="tdl smcap"><a href="#XXVI">Big Business</a></td> - <td class="tdrb">310</td> -</tr> -<tr> - <td class="tdrt">XXVII.</td> - <td class="tdl smcap"><a href="#XXVII">Mr. Loring Reflects</a></td> - <td class="tdrb">323</td> -</tr> -<tr> - <td class="tdrt">XXVIII.</td> - <td class="tdl smcap"><a href="#XXVIII">The Lodestar</a></td> - <td class="tdrb">338</td> -</tr> -<tr> - <td class="tdrt">XXIX.</td> - <td class="tdl smcap"><a href="#XXIX">Arcadia Again</a></td> - <td class="tdrb">350</td> -</tr> -</table> - - - - -<hr class="chap" /> -<h2>LIST OF ILLUSTRATIONS</h2> - - -<div class="blockquot"> -<table border="0" cellpadding="5" cellspacing="0" summary="Illustrations"> -<tr><td class="tdl"><a href="#image01">“The table rang from end to end with joke and laughter.”</a></td></tr> -<tr><td class="tdl"><a href="#image02">“‘Do tell me something more, Nina. Was she young and pretty?’”</a></td></tr> -<tr><td class="tdl"><a href="#image03">“‘And you never cared for any one else?’”</a></td></tr> -<tr><td class="tdl"><a href="#image04">“‘Father!’ Jane’s ... whisper was at his ear.”</a></td></tr> -</table> -</div> - -<hr class="chap" /> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_1" id="Page_1">[1]</a></span></p> - - - - -<p class="noi title">THE SILENT BATTLE</p> - -<div class="chapter"> -<h2><a name="I" id="I">I</a><br /> -<small>LOST</small></h2> -</div> - - -<p class="cap">Gallatin wearily lowered the creel from his shoulders -and dropped it by his rod at the foot of a -tree. He knew that he was lost—had known it, in -fact, for an hour or more, but with the certainty that -there was no way out until morning, perhaps not even -then, came a feeling of relief, and with the creel, he -dropped the mental burden which for the last hour had -been plaguing him, first with fear and then more recently -with a kind of ironical amusement.</p> - -<p>What did it matter, after all? He realized that for -twenty-eight years he had made a mess of most of the -things he had attempted, and that if he ever got back -to civilization, he would probably go diligently on in the -way he had begun. There was time enough to think about -that to-morrow. At present he was so tired that all he -wanted was a place to throw his weary limbs. He had -penetrated miles into the wilderness, he knew, but in what -direction the nearest settlement lay he hadn’t the vaguest -notion—to the southward probably, since his guide had -borne him steadily northward for more than two weeks.</p> - -<p>That blessed guide! With the omniscience of the inexperienced, -Gallatin had left Joe Keegón alone at camp -after breakfast, with a general and hazy notion of whipping<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_2" id="Page_2">[2]</a></span> -unfished trout pools. He had disregarded his mentor’s -warning to keep his eye on the sun and bear to -his left hand, and in the joy of the game, had lost all sense -of time and direction. He realized now from his aching -legs that he had walked many miles farther than he had -wanted to walk, and that, at the last, the fish in his creel -had grown perceptibly heavier. The six weeks at Mulready’s -had hardened him for the work, but never, even -at White Meadows, had his muscles ached as they did now. -He was hungry, too, ravenously hungry, and a breeze -which roamed beneath the pines advised him that it was -time to make a fire.</p> - -<p>It was a wonderful hunger that he had, a healthful, -beastlike hunger—not the gnawing fever, for that seemed -to have left him, but a craving for Joe’s biscuits and -bacon (at which he had at first turned up his pampered -aristocratic nose), which now almost amounted to an obsession. -Good old Joe! Gallatin remembered how, during -the first week of their pilgrimage, he had lain like -the sluggard that he was, against the bole of a tree, weary -of the ache within and rebellious against the conditions -which had sent him forth, cursing in his heart at the old -Indian for his taciturnity, while he watched the skillful -brown fingers moving unceasingly at the evening task. -Later he had begun to learn with delight of his own growing -capabilities, and as the habit of analysis fell upon him, -to understand the dignity of the vast silences of which -the man was a part.</p> - -<p>Not that Gallatin himself was undignified in the worldly -way, for he had lived as his father and his father’s -fathers before him had lived, deeply imbued with the -traditions of his class, which meant large virtues, civic -pride, high business integrity, social punctilio, and the -only gentlemanly vice the Gallatin blood had ever been<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_3" id="Page_3">[3]</a></span> -heir to. But a new idea of nobility had come to him in -the woods, a new idea of life itself, which his conquest -of his own energy had made possible. The deep aisles -of the woods had spoken the message, the spell of the -silent places, the mystery of the eternal which hung on -every lichened rock, which sang in every wind that swayed -the boughs above.</p> - -<p>Heigho! This was no time for moralizing. There -was a fire to light, a shelter of some sort to build and -a bed to make. Gallatin got up wearily, stretching his -tired muscles and cast about in search of a spot for his -camp. He found two young trees on a high piece of -ground within a stone’s throw of the stream, which would -serve as supports for a roof of boughs, and was in the -act of gathering the wood for his fire, when he caught the -crackling of a dry twig in the bushes at some distance -away. Three weeks ago, perhaps, he would not have -heard or noticed, but his ear, now trained to the accustomed -sounds, gave warning that a living thing, a deer -or a black bear, perhaps, was moving in the undergrowth. -He put his armful of wood down and hid himself behind -a tree, drawing meanwhile an automatic, the only weapon -he possessed, from his hip pocket. He had enough of -woodcraft to know that no beast of the woods, unless -in full flight, would come down against the wind toward a -human being, making such a racket as this. The crackling -grew louder and the rapid swish of feet in the dry -leaves was plainly audible. His eye now caught the -movement of branches and in a moment he made out -the dim bulk of a figure moving directly toward him. -He had even raised the hand which held his Colt and -was in the act of aiming it when from the shelter of the -moose-wood there emerged—a girl.</p> - -<p>She wore a blue flannel blouse, a short skirt and long<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_4" id="Page_4">[4]</a></span> -leather gaiters and over one hip hung a creel like his own. -Her dress was smart and sportsmanlike, but her hat was -gone; her hair had burst its confines and hung in a pitiful -confusion about her shoulders. She suggested to him -the thought of Syrinx pursued by the satyrs; for her -cheeks were flushed with the speed of her flight and her -eyes were wide with fear.</p> - -<p>Comely and frightened Dryads who order their clothes -from Fifth Avenue, are not found every day in the heart -of the Canadian wilderness; and Gallatin half expected -that if he stepped forward like Pan to test her tangibility, -she would vanish into empty air. Indeed such a metamorphosis -was about to take place; for as he emerged -from behind his tree, the girl turned one terrified look in -his direction and disappeared in the bushes.</p> - -<p>For a brief moment Gallatin paused. He had had -visions before, and the thought came into his mind that -this was one like the others, born of his overtaxed -strength and the rigors of the day. But as he gazed -at the spot where the Dryad had stood, branches of young -trees swayed, showing the direction in which she was -passing and the sounds in the crackling underbrush, ever -diminishing, assured him that the sudden apparition was -no vision at all, but very delectable flesh and blood, fleeing -from him in terror. He remembered, then, a tale that -Joe Keegón had told him of a tenderfoot, who when lost -in the woods was stricken suddenly mad with fear and, -ended like a frightened animal running away from the -guides that had been sent for him. Fear had not come -to Gallatin yet. He had acknowledged bewilderment and -a vague sense of the monstrous vastness of the thing he -had chosen for his summer plaything. He had been -surprised when the streams began running up hill instead -of down, and when the sun appeared suddenly in a new<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_5" id="Page_5">[5]</a></span> -quarter of the heavens, but he had not been frightened. -He was too indifferent for that. But he knew from the -one brief look he had had of the eyes of the girl, that -the forest had mastered her, and that, like the fellow in -Joe’s tale, she had stampeded in fright.</p> - -<p>Hurriedly locking his Colt, Gallatin plunged headlong -into the bushes where the girl had disappeared. For a -moment he thought he had lost her, for the tangle of -underbrush was thick and the going rough, but in a rift -in the bushes he saw the dark blouse again and went forward -eagerly. He lost it, found it again and then suddenly -saw it no more. He stopped and leaned against a -tree listening. There were no sounds but the murmur of -the rising wind and the note of a bird. He climbed over -a fallen log and went on toward the slope where he had -last seen her, stopping, listening, his eyes peering from -one side to the other. He knew that she could not be far -away, for ahead of him the brush was thinner, and the -young trees offered little cover. A tiny gorge, rock -strewn, but half filled with leaves, lay before him, and -it was not until he had stumbled halfway across it that -he saw her, lying face downward, her head in her hands, -trembling and dumb with fear.</p> - -<p>From the position in which she lay he saw that she -had caught her foot in a hidden root and, in her mad -haste to escape she knew not what, had fallen headlong. -She did not move as he approached; but as he bent over -her about to speak, she shuddered and bent her head more -deeply in her arms, as though in expectation of a blow.</p> - -<p>“I’m not going to hurt you,” he said softly.</p> - -<p>At the sound of his voice she trembled again, but he -leaned over and touched her on the shoulder.</p> - -<p>“I’m very sorry I frightened you,” he said again. -And then after a moment, “Have you lost your way?”</p> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_6" id="Page_6">[6]</a></span></p> - -<p>She painfully freed one arm, and looked up; then -quickly buried her head again in her hands, her shoulders -heaving convulsively, her slender body racked by childish -sobs.</p> - -<p>Gallatin straightened in some confusion. He had -never, to his knowledge, been considered a bugaboo among -the women of his acquaintance. But, as he rubbed his -chin pensively, he remembered that it was a week or more -since he had had a shave, and that a stiff dark stubble -discolored his chin. His brown slouch hat was broken and -dirty, his blue flannel shirt from contact with the briers -was tattered and worn, and he realized that he was hardly -an object to inspire confidence in the heart of a frightened -girl. So, with a discretion which did credit to his knowledge -of her sex, he sat down on a near-by rock and waited -for the storm to pass.</p> - -<p>His patience was rewarded, for in a little while her -sobs were spent, and she raised her head and glanced at -him. This time his appearance reassured her, for Gallatin -had taken off his hat, and his eyes, no longer darkly -mysterious in shadow, were looking at her very kindly.</p> - -<p>“I want to try and help you, if I can,” he was saying -gently. “I’m about to make a camp over here, and if -you’ll join me——”</p> - -<p>Something in the tones of his voice and in his manner -of expressing himself, caused her to sit suddenly up and -examine him more minutely. When she had done so, -her hands made two graceful gestures—one toward her -disarranged hair and the other toward her disarranged -skirt. Gallatin would have laughed at this instinctive -manifestation of the eternal feminine, which even in direst -woe could not altogether be forgotten, but instead he only -smiled, for after all she looked so childishly forlorn and -unhappy.</p> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_7" id="Page_7">[7]</a></span></p> - -<p>“I’m not really going to eat you, you know,” he said -again, smiling.</p> - -<p>“I—I’m glad,” she stammered with a queer little -smile. “I didn’t know <em>what</em> you were. I’m afraid I—I’ve -been very much frightened.”</p> - -<p>“You were lost, weren’t you?”</p> - -<p>“Yes.” She struggled to her knees and then sank -back again.</p> - -<p>“Well, there’s really nothing to be frightened about. -It’s almost too late to try to find your friends to-night, -but if you’ll come with me I’ll do my best to make you -comfortable.”</p> - -<p>He had risen and offered her his hand, but when she -tried to rise she winced with pain.</p> - -<p>“I—I’m afraid I can’t,” she said. “I think I—I’ve -twisted my ankle.”</p> - -<p>“Oh, that’s awkward,” in concern. “Does it hurt -you very much?”</p> - -<p>“I—I think it does. I can’t seem to use it at all.” -She moved her foot and her face grew white with the pain -of it.</p> - -<p>Gallatin looked around him vaguely, as though in expectation -that Joe Keegón or somebody else might -miraculously appear to help him, and then for the first -time since he had seen her, was alive again to the rigors -of his own predicament.</p> - -<p>“I’m awfully sorry,” he stammered helplessly. -“Don’t you think you can stand on it?”</p> - -<p>He offered her his hand and shoulder and she bravely -tried to rise, but the effort cost her pain and with a -little cry she sank back in the leaves, her face buried in -her arms. She seemed so small, so helpless that his heart -was filled with a very genuine pity. She was not crying -now, but the hand which held her moist handkerchief was<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_8" id="Page_8">[8]</a></span> -so tightly clenched that her knuckles were outlined in -white against the tan. He watched her a moment in -silence, his mind working rapidly.</p> - -<p>“Come,” he said at last in quick cheerful notes of -decision. “This won’t do at all. We’ve got to get -out of here. You must take that shoe off. Then we’ll -get you over yonder and you can bathe it in the stream. -Try and get your gaiter off, too, won’t you?”</p> - -<p>His peremptory accents startled her a little, but she -sat up obediently while he supported her shoulders, and -wincing again as she moved, at last undid her legging. -Gallatin then drew his hasp-knife and carefully slit the -laces of her shoe from top to bottom, succeeding in getting -it safely off.</p> - -<p>“Your ankle is swelling,” he said. “You must bathe -it at once.”</p> - -<p>She looked around helplessly.</p> - -<p>“Where?”</p> - -<p>“At the stream. I’m going to carry you there.”</p> - -<p>“You couldn’t. Is it far?”</p> - -<p>“No. Only a hundred yards or so. Come along.”</p> - -<p>He bent over to silence her protests and lifted her by -the armpits. Then while she supported herself for a moment -upright, lifted her in his arms and made his way up -the slope.</p> - -<p>Marvelous is the recuperative power of the muscular -system! Ten minutes ago Gallatin had been, to all intents -and purposes of practical utility, at the point of -exhaustion. Now, without heart-breaking effort, he found -it possible to carry a burden of one hundred and thirty -pounds a considerable distance through rough timber -without mishap! His muscles ached no more than they -had done before, and the only thing he could think of just<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_9" id="Page_9">[9]</a></span> -then was that she was absurdly slender to weigh so much. -One of her arms encircled his shoulders and the fingers -of one small brown hand clutched tightly at the collar of -his shirt. Her eyes peered before her into the brush, -and her face was almost hidden by the tangled mass of -her hair. But into the pale cheek which was just visible, -a gentle color was rising which matched the rosy glow -that was spreading over the heavens.</p> - -<p>“I’m afraid I—I’m awfully heavy,” she said, as he -made his way around the fallen giant over which a short -while ago they had both clambered. “Don’t you think I -had better get down for a moment?”</p> - -<p>“Oh, no,” he panted. “Not at all. It—it isn’t far -now. I’m afraid you’d hurt your foot. Does it—does it -pain you so much now?”</p> - -<p>“N-o, I think not,” she murmured bravely. “But -I’m afraid you’re dreadfully tired.”</p> - -<p>“N-not at all,” he stammered. “We’ll be there soon -now.”</p> - -<p>When he came to the spot he had marked for his -camp, he bore to the right and in a moment they had -reached the stream which gushed musically among the -boulders, half hidden in the underbrush. It was not until -he had carefully chosen a place for her that he consented -to put her on the ground. Then with a knee on the bank -and a foot in the stream, he lowered her gently to a mossy -bank within reach of the water.</p> - -<p>“You’re very kind,” she whispered, her cheeks flaming -as she looked up at him. “I’m awfully sorry.”</p> - -<p>“Nothing of the sort,” he laughed. “I’d have let -you carry <em>me</em>—if you could.” And then, with the hurried -air of a man who has much to do: “You take off your -stocking and dangle your foot in the water. Wiggle<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_10" id="Page_10">[10]</a></span> -your toes if you can and then try to rub the blood into -your ankle. I’m going to build a fire and cook some fish. -Are you hungry?”</p> - -<p>“I don’t know. I—I think I am.”</p> - -<p>“Good!” he said smiling pleasantly. “We’ll have -supper in a minute.”</p> - -<p>He was turning to go, when she questioned: “You -spoke of a camp. Is—is it near here?”</p> - -<p>“N-o. It isn’t,” he hesitated, “but it soon will be.”</p> - -<p>“I’m afraid I don’t understand.”</p> - -<p>He laughed. “Well, you see, the fact of the matter -is, <em>I’m</em> lost, <em>too</em>. I don’t think it’s anything to be very -much frightened about, though. I left my guide early -this morning at the fork of two streams a pretty long distance -from here. I’ve been walking hard all day. I -fished up one of the streams for half of the day and -then cut across through the forest where I thought I -would find it again. I found a stream but it seems -it wasn’t the same one, for after I had gone down it for -an hour or so I didn’t seem to get anywhere. Then I -plunged around hunting and at last had to give it up.”</p> - -<p>“Don’t you think you could find it again?”</p> - -<p>“Oh, I think so,” confidently. “But not to-night. -I’m afraid you’ll have to put up with what I can offer -you.”</p> - -<p>“Of course—and I’m very grateful—but I’m sorry to -be such a burden to you.”</p> - -<p>“Oh, that’s nonsense.” He turned away abruptly -and made his way up the bank. “I’m right here in the -trees and I can hear you. So if I can help you I want -you to call.”</p> - -<p>“Thank you,” she said quietly, “I will.”</p> - -<hr class="chap" /> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_11" id="Page_11">[11]</a></span></p> - - - - -<div class="chapter"> -<h2><a name="II" id="II">II</a><br /> -<small>BABES IN THE WOODS</small></h2> -</div> - - -<p class="cap">Gallatin’s responsibilities to his Creator had -been multiplied by two.</p> - -<p>Less than an hour ago he had dropped his -rod and creel more than half convinced that it didn’t -matter to him or to anybody else whether he got back -to Joe Keegón or not. Now, he suddenly found himself -hustling busily in the underbrush, newly alive to the exigencies -of the occasion, surprised even at the fact that -he could take so extraordinary an interest in the mere -building of a fire. Back and forth from the glade to the -deep woods he hurried, bringing dry leaves, twigs, and -timber. These he piled against a fallen tree in the lee -of the spot he had chosen for his shelter and in a moment -a fire was going. Many things bothered him. He had no -axe and the blade of his hasp-knife was hardly suited to -the task he found before him. If his hands were not so -tender as they had been a month ago, and if into his -faculties a glimmering of woodcraft had found its way, -the fact remained that this blade, his Colt, fishing-rod -and his wits (such as they were), were all that he possessed -in the uneven match against the forces of Nature. -Something of the calm ruthlessness of the mighty wilderness -came to him at this moment. The immutable trees -rose before him as symbols of a merciless creed which all -the forces around him uttered with the terrible eloquence -of silence. He was an intruder from an alien land, of -no importance in the changeless scheme of things—less<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_12" id="Page_12">[12]</a></span> -important than the squirrel which peeped at him slyly -from the branch above his head or the chickadee which -piped flutelike in the thicket. The playfellow of his -strange summer had become his enemy, only jocular and -ironical as yet, but still an enemy, with which he must -do battle with what weapons he could find.</p> - -<p>It was the first time in his life that he had been placed -in a position of complete dependence upon his own efforts—the -first time another had been dependent on him. -He and Joe had traveled light; for this, he had learned, -was the way to play the game fairly. Nevertheless, he -had a guilty feeling that until the present moment he had -modified his city methods only so far as was necessary -to suit the conditions the man of the wilderness had imposed -upon him and that Joe, after all, had done the -work. He realized now that he was fronting primeval -forces with a naked soul—as naked and almost as helpless -as on the day when he had been born. It seemed that the -capital of his manhood was now for the first time to be -drawn upon in a hazardous venture, the outcome of -which was to depend upon his own ingenuity and resourcefulness -alone.</p> - -<p>And yet the fire was sparkling merrily.</p> - -<p>He eyed the blade in his hand as he finished making -two roof supports and sighed for Joe Keegón’s little axe. -His hands were red and blistered already and the lean-to -only begun. There were still the boughs and birch-bark -for a roof and the cedar twigs for a bed to be cut. He -worked steadily, but it was an hour before he found time -to go down to the stream to see how his fugitive fared. She -was still sitting as he had left her, on the bank of the -stream, gazing into the depths of the pool.</p> - -<p>“How are you getting on?” he asked.</p> - -<p>“I—I’m all right,” she murmured.</p> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_13" id="Page_13">[13]</a></span></p> - -<p>“Is the ankle any better? I think I’d better be -getting you up to the fire now. Perhaps, you’d be willing -to cook the fish while I hustle for twigs.”</p> - -<p>“Of—of course.”</p> - -<p>He noticed the catch in her voice, and when he came -near her discovered that she was trembling from head to -foot.</p> - -<p>“Are you suffering still?” he questioned anxiously.</p> - -<p>“N-no, not so much. But I—I’m very cold.”</p> - -<p>“That’s too bad. We’ll have you all right in a minute. -Put your arms around my neck. So.” And bending -over, with care for her injured foot, he lifted her again -in his arms and carried her up the hill. This time she -yielded without a word, nor did she speak until he had put -her down on his coat before the fire.</p> - -<p>“I don’t know how—to thank you—” she began.</p> - -<p>“Then don’t. Put your foot out toward the blaze -and rub it again. You’re not so cold now, are you?”</p> - -<p>“No—no. I think it’s just n-nervousness that -makes me shiver,” she sighed softly. “I never knew -what a fire meant before. It’s awfully good—the -w-warmth of it.”</p> - -<p>He watched her curiously. The fire was bringing a -warm tint to her cheeks and scarlet was making more decisive -the lines of her well-modeled lips. It did not take -Gallatin long to decide that it was very agreeable to look -at her. As he paused, she glanced up at him and caught -the end of his gaze, which was more intense in its directness -than he had meant it to be, and bent her head quickly -toward the fire, her lips drawn more firmly together—a -second acknowledgment of her sense of the situation, a -manifestation of her convincing femininity which confirmed -a previous impression.</p> - -<p>There was quick refuge in the practical.</p> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_14" id="Page_14">[14]</a></span></p> - -<p>“I’m going to clean the fish,” he said carelessly, and -turned away.</p> - -<p>“I’d like to help, if I could,” she murmured.</p> - -<p>“You’d better nurse your ankle for a while,” he said.</p> - -<p>“It’s much better now,” she put in. “I can move it -without much pain.” She thrust her stockinged foot -farther toward the blaze and worked the toes slowly up -and down, but as she did so she flinched again. “I’m not -of much use, am I?” she asked ruefully. “But while -you’re doing other things, I might prepare the fish.”</p> - -<p>“Oh, no. I’ll do that. Let’s see. We need some -sticks to spit them on.”</p> - -<p>“Let me make them;” she put her hand into the -pocket of her dress and drew forth a knife. “You see -I <em>can</em> help.”</p> - -<p>“Great!” he cried delightedly. “You haven’t got -a teapot, a frying-pan, some cups and forks and spoons -hidden anywhere have you?”</p> - -<p>She looked up at him and laughed for the first time, -a fine generous laugh which established at once a new relationship -between them.</p> - -<p>“No—I haven’t—but I’ve a saucepan.”</p> - -<p>“Where?” in amazement.</p> - -<p>“Tied to my creel—over there,” and she pointed, -“and a small package of tea and some biscuits. I take -my own lunch when I fish. I didn’t eat any to-day.”</p> - -<p>“Wonderful! A saucepan! I was wondering how—tied -to your creel, you say?” and he started off rapidly -in the direction of the spot where he had found her.</p> - -<p>“And please b-bring my rod—and—and my <em>shoe</em>,” -she cried.</p> - -<p>He nodded and was off through the brush, finding the -place without difficulty. It was a very tiny saucepan, -which would hold at the most two cupfuls of liquid, but it<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_15" id="Page_15">[15]</a></span> -would serve. He hurried back eagerly, anxious to complete -his arrangements for the meal, and found her -propped up against the back log, his creel beside her, industriously -preparing the fish.</p> - -<p>“How did you get over there?” he asked.</p> - -<p>“Crawled. I couldn’t abide just sitting. I feel a -lot better already.”</p> - -<p>“That was very imprudent,” he said quickly. “We’ll -never get out of here until you can use that foot.”</p> - -<p>“Oh! I hadn’t thought of that,” demurely. “I’ll -try to be careful. Did you bring my shoe—and legging?”</p> - -<p>He held them out for her inspection.</p> - -<p>“You’d better not try to put them on—not to-night, -anyway. To-morrow, perhaps——”</p> - -<p>“To-morrow!” She looked up at him, and then at the -frames of the lean-to, as though the thought that she must -spend the night in the woods had for the first time occurred -to her. A deep purple shadow was crawling -slowly up from the eastward and only the very tops of -the tallest trees above them were catching the warm light -of the declining sun. The woods were dimmer now and -distant trees which a moment ago had been visible were -merged in shadow. Some of the birds, too, were beginning -to trill their even-song.</p> - -<p>“Yes,” he went on, “you see it’s getting late. There’s -hardly a chance of any one finding us to-night. But we’re -going to make out nicely. If you really insist on cleaning -those fish——”</p> - -<p>“I do—and on making some tea——”</p> - -<p>“Then I must get the stuff for your bed before it’s -too dark to see.”</p> - -<p>He filled the saucepan with water at the stream, then -turned back into the woods for the cedar twigs.</p> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_16" id="Page_16">[16]</a></span></p> - -<p>“The bed comes first,” he muttered to himself. -“That’s what Joe would say. There’s caribou moss up -on the slope and the balsam is handy. It isn’t going to -rain to-night, but I’ll try to build a shelter anyway—boughs -now—and canoe birches to-morrow, if I can find -any. But I’ve got to hustle.”</p> - -<p>Six pilgrimages he made into the woods, bringing back -each time armloads of boughs and twigs. He was conscious -presently of a delicious odor of cooking food; and -long before he had brought in his last armful, she pleaded -with him to come and eat. But he only shook his head -and plunged again into the bushes. It was almost dark -when he finished and threw the last load on the pile he -had made. When he approached he found her sitting motionless, -watching him, both creels beside her, her hand -holding up to the fire a stick which stuck through the -fish she had cooked. The saucepan was simmering in the -ashes.</p> - -<p>“How do they taste?” he asked cheerfully.</p> - -<p>“I haven’t eaten any.”</p> - -<p>“Why not?”</p> - -<p>“I was waiting for you.”</p> - -<p>“Oh, you mustn’t do that,” sharply. “I didn’t want -you to wait.”</p> - -<p>“You know,” she interrupted, “I’m your guest.”</p> - -<p>“I didn’t know it,” he laughed. “I thought I was -yours. It’s <em>your</em> saucepan——”</p> - -<p>“But <em>your</em> fish—” she added, and then indicating a little -mischievously, “except that biggest one—which was -mine. But I’m afraid they’ll be cold—I’ve waited so -long. You must eat at once, you’re awfully tired.”</p> - -<p>“Oh, no, I’ve still got a lot to do. I’ll just take a -bite and——”</p> - -<p>“<em>Please</em> sit down—you <em>must</em>, really.”</p> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_17" id="Page_17">[17]</a></span></p> - -<p>Her fingers touched the sleeve of his shirt and he -yielded, sinking beside her with an unconscious sigh of -relaxation which was more like a groan. He was dead-tired—how -tired he had not known until he had yielded. -She saw the haggard look in his eyes and the lines which -the firelight was drawing around his cheek-bones, and at -the corners of his mouth; and it came to her suddenly that -he might not be so strong as she had thought him. If -he was an invalid from the South, the burden of carrying -her through the woods might easily have taxed his -strength. She examined his face critically for a moment, -and then fumbling quickly in the pocket of her dress -drew forth a small, new-looking flask, which gleamed -brightly in the firelight.</p> - -<p>“Here,” she said kindly, “take some of this, it will -do you good.”</p> - -<p>Gallatin followed her motion wearily. Her hand had -even reached the cap of the bottle and had given it a preparatory -twist before he understood what it all meant. -Then he started suddenly upright and put his fingers over -hers.</p> - -<p>“No!” he muttered huskily. “Not that—I—I don’t—I -won’t have anything—thank you.”</p> - -<p>And as she watched his lowering brows and tightly -drawn lips—puzzled and not a little curious, he stumbled -to his feet and hurriedly replaced a log which had -fallen from the fire. But when a moment later he returned -to his place, his features bore no signs of discomposure.</p> - -<p>“I think I’m only hungry,” he mumbled.</p> - -<p>She unhooked the largest fish from the stick and -handed it to him daintily.</p> - -<p>“There, that’s yours. I’ve been saving it for you—just -to convince you that I’m the better fisherman.”</p> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_18" id="Page_18">[18]</a></span></p> - -<p>“I don’t doubt it,” he said soberly. “I’m a good deal -of a duffer at this game.”</p> - -<p>“But then,” she put in generously, “you caught <em>more</em> -than I did, and that evens matters.”</p> - -<p>They had begun eating now, and in a moment it seemed -that food was the only thing they had lacked. As became -two healthy young animals, they ate ravenously of -the biscuits she had carried and all of the fish she had -prepared, and then Gallatin cooked more. The girl removed -the metal cup from the bottom of her flask and -taking turn and turn about with the tiny vessel they -drank the steaming tea. In this familiar act they seemed -to have reached at once a definite and satisfactory understanding. -Gallatin was thankful for that, and he was -careful to put her still further at her ease by a somewhat -obtrusive air of indifference. She repaid him for -this consideration by the frankness of her smile. He examined -her furtively when he could and was conscious -that when his face was turned in profile, she, too, was -studying him anxiously, as only a woman in such a situation -might. Whatever it was that she learned was not unpleasing -to her, for, as he raised his hand to carry the tea -to his lips, her voice was raised in a different tone.</p> - -<p>“Your hands!” she said. “They’re all cut and -bleeding.”</p> - -<p>He glanced at his broken knuckles impersonally.</p> - -<p>“Are they? I hadn’t noticed before. You see, I -hadn’t any hatchet.”</p> - -<p>“Won’t you let me—hadn’t you better bathe them in -the water?”</p> - -<p>“A bath wouldn’t hurt them, would it?”</p> - -<p>“I didn’t mean that. Don’t they hurt?”</p> - -<p>“No, not at all. But I wish I had Joe’s axe.”</p> - -<p>“Who’s Joe?”</p> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_19" id="Page_19">[19]</a></span></p> - -<p>“My guide.”</p> - -<p>“Oh.”</p> - -<p>She questioned no further; for here, she realized instinctively, -were the ends of the essential, the beginnings -of the personal. And so the conversation quickly turned -to practical considerations. Of one thing she was now -assured—her companion was a gentleman. What kind -of a gentleman she had not guessed, for there were many -kinds, she had discovered; but there was nothing unduly -alarming in his manner or appearance and she concluded -for the present to accept him, with reservations, -upon his face value.</p> - -<p>His body fed, Gallatin felt singularly comfortable. -The problems that had hung so thickly around his head -a while ago, were going up with the smoke of the fire. -Here were meat, drink and society. Were not these, after -all, the end and aim of human existence? Had the hoary -earth with all its vast treasures ever been able to produce -more? He took his pouch from his pocket, and asking -if he might smoke, lit his pipe with a coal from the fire -(for matches were precious) and sank back at the girl’s -feet. The time for confidences, were there to be any, -had arrived. She felt it in the sudden stoppage of the -desultory flow of comment and in the polite, if appraising -steadiness of his gaze.</p> - -<p>“I suppose you have a right to know what I’m doing -here,” she said flushing a little, “but there isn’t anything -to tell. I left our camp—as you did, to fish. I’ve done -it before, often. Sometimes alone—sometimes with a -party. I—I wasn’t alone this morning and I—I—” she -hesitated, frowning. “It doesn’t matter in the least -about that, of course,” she went on quickly. “I—I got -separated from my—my companion and went farther into -the brush than I had intended to do. When I found that<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_20" id="Page_20">[20]</a></span> -I had lost my way, I called again and again. Nobody -answered. Then something happened to me, I don’t know -what. I think it must have been the sound of the echoes -of my own voice that frightened me, for suddenly I seemed -to go mad with terror. After that I don’t remember -anything, except that I felt I must reach the end of the -woods, so that I could see beyond the barrier of trees -which seemed to be closing in about me like living things. -It was frightful. I only knew that I went on and on—until -I saw you. And after that—” her words were slower, -her voice dropped a note and then stopped altogether—“and -that is all,” she finished.</p> - -<p>“It’s enough, God knows,” he said, sitting upright. -“You must have suffered.”</p> - -<p>“I did—I wonder what got into me. I’ve never been -frightened in the woods before.” She turned her head -over her shoulder and peered into the shadows. “I don’t -seem to be frightened now.”</p> - -<p>“I’m glad. I’m going to try to make you forget that. -You’re in no danger here. To-morrow I’ll try to find my -back trail—or Joe Keegón may follow mine. In the -meanwhile”—and he started to his feet, “I’ve got a lot -to do. Just sit quietly there and nurse your ankle while -I make your bed. And if I don’t make it properly, the -way you’re used to having it, just tell me. Won’t you?”</p> - -<p>“Hair, please, with linen sheets, and a down pillow,” -she enjoined.</p> - -<p>“I’ll try,” he said with a laugh, for he knew now that -the tone she used was only a cloak to hide the shrinking -of her spirit. She sat as he had commanded, leaning as -comfortably as she could against the tree trunk, watching -his dim figure as it moved back and forth among the -shadows. First he trod upon and scraped the ground, -picking up small stones and twigs and throwing them into<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_21" id="Page_21">[21]</a></span> -the darkness until he had cleared a level spot. Then -piece by piece he laid the caribou moss as evenly as he -could. He had seen Joe do this some days ago when -they had made their three-day camp. The cedar came -next; and, beginning at the foot and laying the twig ends -upward, he advanced to the head, a layer at a time, thus -successively covering the stub ends and making a soft -and level couch. When it was finished, he lay on it, -and made some slight adjustments.</p> - -<p>“I’m sorry it’s not a pneumatic—and about the -blankets—but I’m afraid it will have to do.”</p> - -<p>“It looks beautiful,” she assented, “and I hate pneumatics. -I’ll be quite warm enough, I’m sure.”</p> - -<p>To make the matter of warmth more certain, he -pitched two of the biggest logs on the flames, and then -made a rough thatch of the larger boughs over the -supports that he had set in position. When he had finished, -he stood before her smiling.</p> - -<p>“There’s nothing left, I think—but to get to bed. -I’m going off for enough firewood to last us until morning. -Shall I carry you over now or——”</p> - -<p>“Oh, I think I can manage,” she said, her lips dropping -demurely. “I did before—while you were away, -you know.” She straightened and her brows drew together. -“What I’m puzzled about now is about <em>you</em>. -Where are <em>you</em> going to sleep?”</p> - -<p>“Me? That’s easy. Out here by the fire.”</p> - -<p>“Oh!” she said thoughtfully.</p> - -<hr class="chap" /> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_22" id="Page_22">[22]</a></span></p> - - - - -<div class="chapter"> -<h2><a name="III" id="III">III</a><br /> -<small>VOICES</small></h2> -</div> - - -<p class="cap">Dragging his lagging feet, Gallatin struggled -on until his task was finished. He took the saucepan -and cup to the stream, washed them carefully, -and filled them with water. Then he untied the handkerchief -from around his neck and washed that, too. When -he got back to the fire, he found the girl lying on the -couch, her head pillowed on her arm, her eyes gazing into -the fire.</p> - -<p>“I’ve brought some water. I thought you might like -to wash your face,” he said.</p> - -<p>“Thanks,” gratefully. “You’re very thoughtful.”</p> - -<p>He mended the fire for the night, and waiting until -she had finished her impromptu toilet, took the saucepan -to the stream and rinsed it again. Then he cleared the -remains of the fish away, hung the creels together on the -limb of a tree and, without looking toward the shelter, -threw himself down beside the fire, utterly exhausted.</p> - -<p>“Good night,” she said. He turned his head toward -her. The firelight was dancing in her eyes, which were as -wide open as his own.</p> - -<p>“Good night,” he said pleasantly, “and pleasant -dreams.”</p> - -<p>“I don’t seem to be a bit sleepy—are you?”</p> - -<p>“No, not yet. Aren’t you comfortable?”</p> - -<p>“Oh, yes. It isn’t that. I think I’m too tired to -sleep.”</p> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_23" id="Page_23">[23]</a></span></p> - -<p>He changed his position a little to ease his joints.</p> - -<p>“I believe I am, too,” he smiled. “You’d better -try though. You’ve had a bad day.”</p> - -<p>“I will. Good night.”</p> - -<p>“Good night.”</p> - -<p>But try as he might, he could not sleep. Each particular -muscle was clamoring in indignant protest at its -unaccustomed usage. The ground, too, he was forced -to admit was not as soft as it might have been, and he -was sure from the way his hip bone ached, that it was -on the point of coming through his flesh. He raised his -body and removed a small flat stone which had been the -cause of the discomfort. As he did so he heard her voice -again.</p> - -<p>“You’re dreadfully unhappy. I don’t see why——”</p> - -<p>“Oh, no, I’m not. This is fine. Please go to sleep.”</p> - -<p>“I can’t. Why didn’t you make another bed for -yourself?”</p> - -<p>“I didn’t think about it,” he said, wondering now why -the thought had never occurred to him. “You see,” he -lied cautiously, “I’m used to this sort of thing. I sleep -this way very often. I like it.”</p> - -<p>“Oh!”</p> - -<p>What an expressive interjection it was as she used it. -It ran a soft arpeggio up the scale of her voice and down -again, in curiosity rather than surprise, in protest rather -than acquiescence. This time it was mildly skeptical.</p> - -<p>“It’s true—really. I like it here. Now I <em>insist</em> that -you go to sleep.”</p> - -<p>“If you use that tone, I suppose I must.” She closed -her eyes, settled one soft cheek against the palm of her -hand.</p> - -<p>“Good night,” she said again.</p> - -<p>“Good night,” he repeated.</p> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_24" id="Page_24">[24]</a></span></p> - -<p>Gallatin turned away from her so that she might not -see his face and lay again at full length with his head pillowed -on his arms, looking into the fire. His mental faculties -were keenly alive, more perhaps by reason of the -silence and physical inaction than they had been at any -time during the day. Never in his life before, it seemed, -had he been so broadly awake. His mind flitted with -meddlesome agility from one thought to another; and -so before he had lain long, he was aware that he was -entirely at the mercy of his imagination.</p> - -<p>One by one the pictures emerged—the girl’s flight, the -wild disorder of her appearance, her slender figure lying -helpless in the leaves, the pathos of her streaming eyes, -and the diminutive proportions of her slender foot. It -was curious, too, how completely his own difficulties and -discomforts had been forgotten in the mitigation of hers. -Their situation he was forced to admit was not as satisfactory -as his confident words of assurance had promised.</p> - -<p>He had not forgotten that most of his back-trail had -been laid in water, and it was not to be expected that -Joe Keegón could perform the impossible. Their getting -out by the way he had come must largely depend upon -his own efforts in finding the spot up-stream where he had -come through. The help that could be expected from her -own people was also problematical. She had come a long -distance. That was apparent from the condition of her -gaiters. For all Gallatin knew, her camp might be ten, -or even fifteen miles away. Something more than a mild -curiosity possessed him as to this camp and the people -who were using it; for there was a mystery in her sudden -separation from the “companion” to whom she had so -haltingly and vaguely alluded.</p> - -<p>It was none of his business, of course, who this girl -was or where she came from; he was aware, at this moment<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_25" id="Page_25">[25]</a></span> -of vagrant visions, of an unequivocal and not unpleasant -interest in this hapless waif whom fortune, with -more humor than discretion, had so unceremoniously -thrust upon his mercies. She was very good to look at. -He had decided that back in the gorge where she had -first raised her elfin head from the leaves. And yet, now -as he lay there in the dark, he could not for the life of -him guess even at the color of her eyes or hair. Her hair -at first had seemed quite dark until a shaft of the declining -light in the west had caught it, when he had decided -that it was golden. Her eyes had been too light to be -brown and yet—yes, they had been quite too dark to be -blue. The past perfect tense seemed to be the only one -which suited her, for in spite of the evidences of her -tangibility close at hand, he still associated her with the -wild things of the forest, the timid things one often heard -at night but seldom glimpsed by day. Cautiously he -turned his head and looked into the shelter. She lay -as he had seen her last, her eyes closed, her breath scarcely -stirring her slender body. Her knees were huddled under -her skirt and she looked no larger than a child. He remembered -that when she had stood upright she had been -almost as tall as he, and this metamorphosis only added -another to the number of his illusions.</p> - -<p>With an effort, at last, he lowered his head and closed -his eyes, in angry determination. What the devil had -the troubles of this unfortunate female to do with him? -What difference did it make to him if her hair and eyes -changed color or that she could become grown up or childish -at will? Wasn’t one fool who lost himself in the -woods enough in all conscience! Besides <em>he</em> had a right -to get himself lost if he wanted to. He was his own master -and it didn’t matter to any one but himself what became -of him. Why couldn’t the little idiot have stayed<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_26" id="Page_26">[26]</a></span> -where she belonged? A woman had no business in the -woods, anyway.</p> - -<p>With his eyes closed it was easy to shut out sight, but -the voices of the night persisted. An owl called, and far -off in the distance a solitary mournful loon took up the -plaint. There were sounds close at hand, too, stealthy -footfalls of minute paws, sniffs from the impertinent noses -of smaller animals; the downward fluttering of leaves and -twigs all magnified a thousandfold, pricked upon the velvety -background of the vast silence. He tried to relax -his muscles and tipped his head back upon the ground. -As he did so his lids flew up like those of a doll laid upon -its back. The moon was climbing now, so close to the -tree tops that the leaves and branches looked like painted -scrolls upon its surface. In the thicket shapes were -moving. They were only the tossing shadows from his -fire, he knew, but they interested him and he watched them -for a long time. It pleased him to think of them as the -shadows of lost travelers. He could hear them whispering -softly, too, in the intervals between the other sounds, -and in the distance, farther even than the call of the whippoorwill, -he could hear them singing:</p> - -<div lang="fr" xml:lang="fr"> -<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0">À la claire fontaine<br /></span> -<span class="i0">M’en allant promener<br /></span> -<span class="i0">J’ai trouvé l’eau si belle<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Que je m’y suis baigné<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Il y a longtemps que le t’aime<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Jamais je ne t’oublierai.<br /></span> -</div></div> -</div> - -<p>The sound of the rapids, too, or was it only the tinkle -of the stream?</p> - -<p>He raised his head and peered around him to right and -left. As he did so a voice joined the lesser voices, its<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_27" id="Page_27">[27]</a></span> -suddenness breaking the stillness like the impact of a -blow.</p> - -<p>“Aren’t you asleep?” She lay as he had seen her -before, with her cheek pillowed upon her hand, but the -firelight danced in her wide-open eyes.</p> - -<p>“No,” he said, straightening slowly. “I don’t seem -to be sleepy.”</p> - -<p>“Neither am I. Did you hear them—the voices?”</p> - -<p>“Yes,” in surprise. “Did you? You’re not frightened -at all, are you?”</p> - -<p>“Not at the voices. Other things seem to bother me -much more. The little sounds close at hand, I can understand, -too. There was a four-legged thing out there -where you threw the fish offal a while ago. But you didn’t -see him——”</p> - -<p>“I heard him—but he won’t bother us.”</p> - -<p>“No. I’m not frightened—not at that.”</p> - -<p>“At what, then?”</p> - -<p>“I don’t—I don’t think I really know.”</p> - -<p>“There’s nothing to be frightened at.”</p> - -<p>“It—it’s just <em>that</em> I’m frightened at—nothing—nothing -at all.”</p> - -<p>A pause.</p> - -<p>“I wish you’d go to sleep.”</p> - -<p>“I suppose I shall after a while.”</p> - -<p>“How is your foot?”</p> - -<p>“Oh, better. I’m not conscious of it at all. It isn’t -my foot that keeps me awake. It’s the hush of the -stillnesses between the other sounds,” she whispered, as -though the silence might hear her. “You never get those -distinctions sleeping in a tent. I don’t think I’ve ever -really known the woods before—or the meaning of silence. -The world is poised in space holding its breath on the -brink of some awful abyss. So I can’t help holding mine, -too.”</p> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_28" id="Page_28">[28]</a></span></p> - -<p>She sat upright and faced him.</p> - -<p>“You don’t mind if I talk, do you? I suppose -you’ll think I’m very cowardly and foolish, but I want to -hear a human voice. It makes things real somehow——”</p> - -<p>“Of course,” he laughed. He took out his watch and -held it toward the fire with a practical air. “Besides it’s -only ten o’clock.”</p> - -<p>“Oh,” she sighed, “I thought it was almost morning.”</p> - -<p>He silently rose and kicked the fire into a blaze.</p> - -<p>“It’s too bad you’re so nervous.”</p> - -<p>“That’s it. I’m glad you called it by a name. I’m -glad you looked at your watch and that you kicked the -fire. I had almost forgotten that there were such things -as watches. I seem to have been poised in space, too, -waiting and listening for something—I don’t know what—as -though I had asked a great question which must in -some way be answered.”</p> - -<p>Gallatin glanced at her silently, then slowly took out -his pipe and tobacco.</p> - -<p>“Let’s talk,” he said quietly.</p> - -<p>But instead of taking his old place beside the fire, -he sank at the foot of one of the young beech trees that -formed a part of the structure of her shelter near the head -of her balsam bed.</p> - -<p>“I know what you mean,” he said soothingly. “I -felt it, too. The trouble is—there’s never any answer. -They’d like to tell us many things—those people out -there,” and he waved his hand. “They’d like to, but they -can’t. It’s a pity, isn’t it? The sounds are cheerful, -though. They say they’re the voyagers singing as they -shoot the rapids.”</p> - -<p>She watched his face narrowly, not doubtfully as she<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_29" id="Page_29">[29]</a></span> -had done earlier, but eagerly, as though seeking the other -half of a thought which conformed to her own.</p> - -<p>“I’m glad you heard,” she said quickly. “I thought -I must have dreamed—which would have been strange, -since I haven’t been asleep. It gives me a greater faith -in myself. I haven’t been really frightened, I hope. Only -filled with wonder that such things could be.”</p> - -<p>“They can’t really, you know,” he drawled. “Some -people never hear the voices.”</p> - -<p>“I never did before.”</p> - -<p>“The woods people hear them often. It means,” -he said with a smile, “that you and I are initiated into the -Immortal Fellowship.”</p> - -<p>“Oh!” in a whisper, almost of awe.</p> - -<p>“Yes,” he reassured her gaily, “you belong to the -Clan of <i>Mak-wa</i>, the Bear, and <i>Kee-way-din</i>, the North-Wind. -The trees are keeping watch. Nothing can harm -you now.”</p> - -<p>Her eyes lifted to his, and a hesitating smile suddenly -wreathed her lips.</p> - -<p>“You’re very comforting,” she said, in a doubtful tone -which showed her far from comforted. “I really would -try to believe you,” with a glance over her shoulder, “if -it wasn’t for the menace of the silence when the voices -stop.”</p> - -<p>“The menace——”</p> - -<p>“Yes. I can’t explain. It’s like a sudden hush of -terror—as though the pulse of Nature had stopped beating—was -waiting on some immortal decision.”</p> - -<p>“Yes,” he assented quietly, his gaze on the fire. “I -know. I felt that, too.”</p> - -<p>“Did you? I’m glad. It makes me more satisfied.”</p> - -<p>She was sitting up on her bed of twigs now, leaning<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_30" id="Page_30">[30]</a></span> -toward him, her eyes alight with a strange excitement, -her body leaning toward his own, as she listened. The -firelight danced upon her hair and lit her face with a -weird, wild beauty. She was very near him at that moment—spiritually—physically. -In a gush of pity he put -his hand over hers and held it tightly in his own, his -voice reassuring her gently.</p> - -<p>“No harm can come to you here, child. Don’t you -understand? There are no voices—but yours and mine. -See! The woods are filled with moonlight. It is as -bright as day.”</p> - -<p>She had put one arm before her eyes as though by -physical effort to obliterate the fancies that possessed -her. Her hand was ice-cold and her fingers unconsciously -groped in his, seeking strength in his warm clasp. With -an effort she raised her head and looked more calmly -into the shadows.</p> - -<p>“No, there are no voices now,” she repeated. “I -am—foolish.” And then aware of his fingers still holding -hers, she withdrew her hand abruptly and straightened -her slender figure. “I—I’m all right, I think.”</p> - -<p>He straightened slowly, and his matter of fact tone -reassured her.</p> - -<p>“I didn’t know you were really frightened or I -shouldn’t have spoken so. I’m sorry.”</p> - -<p>“But you <em>heard</em>,” she persisted.</p> - -<p>Gallatin took up his pipe and put it in his mouth before -he replied.</p> - -<p>“The wilderness is no place for nerves—or imaginations. -It seems that you have the one and I the other. -There were no sounds.”</p> - -<p>“What did I hear then?”</p> - -<p>“The stream and the leaves overhead. I’d rather -prove it to you by daylight.”</p> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_31" id="Page_31">[31]</a></span></p> - -<p>“Will the day never come?”</p> - -<p>“Oh, yes. I suppose so. It usually does.”</p> - -<p>There was no smile on his lips and another note in his -voice caused her to look at him keenly. The bowl of his -pipe had dropped and his gaze was fixed upon the fire. It -was a new—and distinct impression that he made upon her -now—a not altogether pleasant one. Until a moment -ago, he had been merely a man in the woods—a kindly -person of intelligence with a talent for the building of -balsam beds; in the last few minutes he had developed an -outline, a quite too visible personality, and instinctively -she withdrew from the contact.</p> - -<p>“I think I can sleep now,” she said.</p> - -<p>He understood. His place was at the fireside and he -took it without reluctance, aware of a sense of self-reproach. -It had been her privilege to be a fool—but not -his. He threw a careless glance at her over his shoulder.</p> - -<p>“If you’re still timid, I’ll sit up and watch.”</p> - -<p>“No, you mustn’t do that.” But by this time he -had taken another coal for his pipe and sitting, Indian-fashion, -was calmly puffing.</p> - -<p>“I’m going to, anyway,” he said. “Don’t bother -about me, please.”</p> - -<p>Without reply she stretched herself on the couch and -disposed herself again to sleep. This time she buried her -head in her arms and lay immovable. He knew that she -was not asleep and that she was still listening for the -menace of the silences; but he knew, too, that if suffer -she must, he could not help her. A moment ago he had -been on the point of taking her in his arms and soothing -her as he would have done a child. They had been very -close in spirit at that moment, drawn together like two -vessels alone in a calm waste of water. It was the appeal<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_32" id="Page_32">[32]</a></span> -of her helplessness to his strength, his strength to her -helplessness, of course, and yet——</p> - -<p>For a long while Gallatin watched the flames as they -rose and fell and the column of smoke that drifted upward -on the still night air and lost itself among the leaves overhead. -The voices he heard no more. The fire crackled, -a vagrant breeze sighed, a bird called somewhere, but he -realized that he was listening for another sound. The -girl had not moved since he had last spoken, and now he -heard the rhythmic breathing which told him that at -last she was asleep. He waited some moments more, then -softly arose, took up his coat, which he had thrown over -a log, and laid it gently over her shoulders. Then he -crept back to his fire.</p> - -<hr class="chap" /> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_33" id="Page_33">[33]</a></span></p> - - - - -<div class="chapter"> -<h2><a name="IV" id="IV">IV</a><br /> -<small>EDEN</small></h2> -</div> - - -<p class="cap">Dawn stalked solemnly forth and the heavens were -rosy with light. Gallatin stirred uneasily, then -raised his head stiffly, peered around and with -difficulty got himself into a sitting posture. Fire still -glowed in the chinks of the largest log, but the air was -chill. He took out his watch and looked at it, winding it -carefully. He had slept five hours, without moving.</p> - -<p>He was now accustomed to the convention of awaking -early, with all his faculties keenly alive; and he rose to -his feet, rubbing the stiffness out of his limbs and back, -smiling joyously up at the gracious day. In the shelter, -her back toward the fire, her head hidden in her arms, -the girl still slept soundly. Cautiously Gallatin replenished -the fire, piling on the last of his wood. Save for a -little stiffness in his back, there were, it seemed, no penalties -to be imposed for his night in the open.</p> - -<p>A shaft of sunlight shot across the topmost branches -of the trees, and instantly, as though at a signal, the woods -were alive with sound. There was a mad scampering -in the pine boughs above him, and a squirrel leapt into -the air, scurried through the branches of a maple and disappeared; -two tiny wrens engaged in a noisy discussion -about the family breakfast, a blue-jay screamed and a -woodpecker tattoed the call to the business of the day. -This, Gallatin knew, was meant for him. There was much -to be done, but he fell to with a will, his muscles eager -for the task, his mind cleared of the fogs of doubt and<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_34" id="Page_34">[34]</a></span> -speculation which had dimmed it the night before. There -were no problems he could not solve alone, no difficulties -his ingenuity could not surmount. The old blood of his -race, which years before had conquered this same wilderness, -or another one like it, surged new in his veins and -he rejoiced in the chance to test his strength against the -unhandselled matter which opposed him. The forest -smiled upon him, already gracious in defeat.</p> - -<p>He returned to camp after a turn through the woods, -and in one hand was a clean sliver of birch-bark, filled -with blueberries. He put them safely in a hollow place -in the fallen tree, filled the saucepan with water and -placed it in the fire to boil. Then he cleaned fish.</p> - -<p>He worked noiselessly, bringing more firewood, plenty -of which was still close at hand; and after a glance at the -sleeping girl, he unsheathed his knife and went again into -the brush. There, after a search, he found what he was -looking for—a straight young oak tree, about two inches -in diameter. He succeeded at last, with much pains and -care for his knife, in cutting it through and trimming -off the small branches. At the upper end of this club -was a V-shaped crotch, made by two strong forking -branches, which he cut and whittled until they were to -his liking. Returning to the fire, he emptied his fly-hook, -took his rod and unreeled a good length of line, which -he cut off and placed on the log beside him. Then with -the line, he bound the fly-hook, stuffed with caribou moss, -into the fork of his stick, wrapping the strong cord carefully -until he had made a serviceable crutch. He was -hobbling around near the fire on it, testing its utility when -he heard a gasp of amazement. He had been so engrossed -in his task that he had not thought of the object -of these attentions, and when he glanced toward the shelter, -she was sitting upright, regarding him curiously.</p> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_35" id="Page_35">[35]</a></span></p> - -<p>“What on earth are you doing?”</p> - -<p>He laughed gayly.</p> - -<p>“Good morning! Hobbling, I believe. Don’t I do it -nicely?”</p> - -<p>“You—you’ve hurt yourself?”</p> - -<p>He took the crutch from under his arm and looked -at it admiringly.</p> - -<p>“Oh, no—but <em>you</em> have.”</p> - -<p>“I! Oh, yes. I forgot. I don’t think I’ll need it at -all. I—” She started up and tried to put her foot down -and then sank back in dismay. “It seems to still hurt -me a little,” she said quietly.</p> - -<p>“Of course it does. You don’t get over that sort -of thing in a minute. It will be better when the blood -gets into it. Meanwhile,” he handed her the stick, “you -must use this. Breakfast will be ready in a minute, so -if you feel like making a toilet——”</p> - -<p>“Oh, yes, of course,” she glanced around her at the -patines of gold the sun had laid over the floor of their -breakfast-room and asked the time.</p> - -<p>“Half past seven.”</p> - -<p>“Then I’ve slept——”</p> - -<p>“Nearly nine hours.”</p> - -<p>He started forward to help her to her feet and as he -did so, she saw his coat, which had fallen from her -shoulders.</p> - -<p>“You shouldn’t have given me your coat. You must -have frozen.”</p> - -<p>“On the contrary, I was quite comfortable. The -night was balmy—besides, I was nearer the fire.”</p> - -<p>“I’m very much obliged,” she said. After one or -two clumsy efforts she managed to master her crutch -and, refusing his aid, made her way to the stream without -difficulty.</p> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_36" id="Page_36">[36]</a></span></p> - -<p>Gallatin spitted the fish on the charred sticks of yesterday -and held them up to the fire, his appetite pleasantly -assertive at the first delicious odor. When the girl -joined him a while later, all was ready, the last of the -tea darkening the simmering pot, the cooked fish lying in -a row on a flat stone in the fire.</p> - -<p>As she hobbled up he rose and offered her a place -on the log beside him.</p> - -<p>“I hope you’re hungry. I am. Our menu is small -but most select—blueberries Ojibway, trout <i lang="fr" xml:lang="fr">sauté</i>, and -Bohea <i lang="fr" xml:lang="fr">en casserole</i>. The biscuits, I’m ashamed to say, -are no more.”</p> - -<p>She reflected his manner admirably. “Splendid! I -fairly dote on blueberries. Where did you get them? -You’re really a very wonderful person. For luncheon, -of course, cress and dandelion salad, fish and a venison -pasty. For dinner——”</p> - -<p>“Don’t be too sure,” he laughed. “Let’s eat what -we’ve got and be thankful.”</p> - -<p>“I am thankful,” she said, picking at the blueberries. -“I might have been still lying over there in the leaves.” -She turned her face confidingly to his. “Do you know, -I thought you were a bear.”</p> - -<p>“Did you?”</p> - -<p>“Until you pointed a pistol at me—and then I -thought you were an Indian.”</p> - -<p>“I’m very sorry. I didn’t know <em>what</em> you were—I -don’t think I quite know yet.”</p> - -<p>She took the cup of tea from his fingers before she -replied.</p> - -<p>“I? Oh, I’m just—just a girl. It doesn’t matter -much who or what.”</p> - -<p>“I didn’t mean to be inquisitive,” he said quickly.</p> - -<p>“But you were—” she insisted.</p> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_37" id="Page_37">[37]</a></span></p> - -<p>“Yes,” he admitted, “I’m afraid I was.”</p> - -<p>“Names don’t matter—here, do they? The woods -are impersonal. Can’t you and I be impersonal, too?”</p> - -<p>“I suppose so, but my curiosity is rather natural—under -the circumstances.”</p> - -<p>“I don’t intend to gratify it.”</p> - -<p>“Why not? My name——”</p> - -<p>“Because—I prefer not,” she said firmly. And then: -“These fish are delicious. Some more tea, please!”</p> - -<p>He looked at her while she drank and then took the -cup from her hand without replying. Her chin he discovered -could fall very quickly into lines of determination. -Her attitude amused him. She was, it seemed, -a person in the habit of having things her own way and -it even flattered him that she had discerned that he must -acquiesce.</p> - -<p>“You shall have your own way,” he laughed amusedly, -“but if I call you ‘Hey, there,’ don’t be surprised.”</p> - -<p>“I won’t,” she smiled.</p> - -<p>When they had finished the last of the tea he got up, -washed the two dishes at the stream, and relit the ashes -of last night’s pipe.</p> - -<p>“The Committee of Ways and Means will now go into -executive session,” he began. “I haven’t the least idea -where we are. I may have traveled ten miles yesterday -or twenty. I’ve lost my bearings, that’s sure, and so -have you. There are two things to do—one of them is -to find our way out by ourselves and the other is to let -somebody find it for us. The first plan isn’t feasible until -you are able to walk——”</p> - -<p>“I could manage with my crutch.”</p> - -<p>“No, I’m afraid that won’t do. There’s no use -starting off until we know where we’re going.”</p> - -<p>“But you said you thought you could——”</p> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_38" id="Page_38">[38]</a></span></p> - -<p>“I still think so,” he put in quickly, noting the sudden -anxious query in her eyes. “I’ll find my back-trail, -but it may take time. Meanwhile you’ve got to eat, and -keep dry.”</p> - -<p>“It isn’t going to rain.”</p> - -<p>“Not now, but it may any time. I’ll get you comfortable -here and then I’ll take to the woods——”</p> - -<p>“And leave me alone?”</p> - -<p>“I’m afraid I’ll have to. We have four fish remaining—little -ones. Judging by my appetite they’re not quite -enough for lunch—and we must have more for supper.”</p> - -<p>“I’ll catch them.”</p> - -<p>“No, you must rest to-day. I have my automatic, -too,” he went on. “I’m not a bad shot. Perhaps, I may -bring some meat.”</p> - -<p>“But I can’t stay here and—do nothing.”</p> - -<p>“You can help fix the shack. I’ll get the birch now.”</p> - -<p>He was moving off into the brush when she called him -back.</p> - -<p>“I hope you didn’t think me discourteous awhile ago. -I really didn’t mean to be. You—you’ve been very good. -I don’t think I realized that we might have to be here -long. You understand—under the circumstances, I -thought I’d rather not—have you know anything about -me. It doesn’t matter, really, I suppose.”</p> - -<p>“Oh, no, not at all,” politely, and he went into the -underbrush, leaving her sitting at the fire. When he came -back with his first armful of canoe birches, she was still -sitting there; but he went on gathering birch and firewood, -whistling cheerfully the while. She watched him for a -moment and then silently got up with the aid of her -crutch and reached for her rod and creel. She had hobbled -past him before he realized her intention.</p> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_39" id="Page_39">[39]</a></span></p> - -<p>“I wish you wouldn’t,” he protested.</p> - -<p>“I must do my share——”</p> - -<p>“You’d do it better by saving your foot.”</p> - -<p>“I won’t hurt my foot. I can use it a little now.”</p> - -<p>“If you slipped, things might go badly with you.”</p> - -<p>“I won’t fall. I’m going down stream to get the fish -for lunch.”</p> - -<p>She adjusted her crutch and moved on. Her voice -was even gay, but there was no denying the quality of her -resolution. He shrugged his shoulders lightly and -watched her until she had disappeared in the bushes, -and when he had finished his tasks, he took up rod and -creel and followed the stream in the opposite direction.</p> - -<p>Of course, she had every right to keep her identity a -secret, if she chose, but it annoyed him a little to think -that he had laid himself open even to so slight a rebuff. -Morning seemed to have made a difference in the relations, -a difference he was as yet at some pains to define. -Last night he had been merely a chance protector, upon -whose hospitality she had been forced against her will and -he had done only what common humanity demanded of him. -The belief that her predicament was only temporary, -had for the time given her the assurance the situation required; -but with the morning, which had failed to bring -aid she had expected from her people, her obligations to -him were increasing with the hours. If, as he had indicated, -it might be several days or even more before she -could find her way to camp, she must indeed expect to -find herself completely upon his mercies. Gallatin smiled -as he cast his line. With its other compensations daylight -had not brought him or his companion the pleasure -of an introduction! Silly little fool! Of what value were -introductions in the heart of the ancient wood—or elsewhere<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_40" id="Page_40">[40]</a></span> -for that matter! No mere spoken words could -purge his heart—or any man’s! Vain conventions! The -hoary earth was mocking at them.</p> - -<p>A swirl in the brown pool below him, a flash of light! -Gallatin swore softly. Two pounds and a half at least! -And he had lost him!</p> - -<p>This wouldn’t do. He was fishing for his dinner -now—their dinner. He couldn’t afford to make many -more mistakes like that—not with another mouth to fill. -Why should he care who or what she was! The Gallatins -had never been of a curious disposition and he wondered -that he should care anything about the identity of this -chance female thrown upon his protection. She was not -in any way unusual. He was quite sure that any morning -in New York he would have passed a hundred like her on -the street without a second glance. She had come with -the falling evening, wrapped in mystery and had shaken -his rather somber philosophy out of its bearings. Night -had not diminished the illusion; and once, when the spell -of the woods had held them for a moment in its thrall, -he had been on the point of taking her in his arms. Did -she know how near she had been to that jeopardy? He -fancied so. That was why things were different to-day. -It was the sanity of nine o’clock in the morning, when -there was no firelight to throw shadows among the trees -and the voyageurs no longer sang among the rapids. In -an unguarded moment she had shown him a shadowed -corner of her spirit and was now resenting it. A woman’s -chief business in life, he realized, was the hiding of her -own frailties, the sources of impulse and the repression of -unusual emotions. She had violated these canons of her -sex and justly feared that he might misinterpret her. -What could she know of him, what expect—of a casual -stranger into whose arms her helpless plight had literally<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_41" id="Page_41">[41]</a></span> -thrown her? He was forced to admit, at the last, that -to a modest woman the situation was trying.</p> - -<p>He fished moodily, impatiently and unsuccessfully, -losing another fish in the pool above. Things were getting -serious. His mind now intent, he cast again farther up, -dropping the fly skillfully just above a tiny rapid. There -he was rewarded; for a fish struck viciously, not so large -a one as the first, but large enough for one meal for his -companion at least. His spirits rose. He was at peace -again with the world, in the elysium of the true fisher -who has landed the first fish of the day.</p> - -<p>A moment ago he had thought her commonplace. He -admitted now that he had been mistaken. A moment ago -he had been trying to localize her by the token of some -treacherous trick of speech or intonation and had almost -been ready to assign her to that limbo of all superior -indigenous New Yorkers—“the West”; now he was even -willing to admit that she was to all intents and purposes -a cosmopolitan. The sanity of nine o’clock in the morning -had done away with all myth and moonshine, but daylight -had, it seemed, taken nothing from her elfin comeliness. -Her hair had at last decided to be brown, her eyes -a dark blue, her figure slim, her limbs well proportioned, -her motions graceful. Altogether she had detracted nothing -from the purely ornamental character of the landscape.</p> - -<p>These few unimportant facts clearly established, Gallatin -gave himself up more carefully to the business in -hand, and by the time he reached the head of the gorge, -had caught an even dozen. If fish were to serve them for -diet, they would not go hungry on this day at least. As -he went higher up into the hills he kept his eyes open -for the landmarks of yesterday. He remembered the -two big rocks in the gorge, and it surprised him that<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_42" id="Page_42">[42]</a></span> -they were no nearer to his camp. The task of finding -his back trail to Joe Keegón would be more difficult than -he had supposed, and he knew now that the point where -he had first fished this stream was many miles above. -But he saw no reason to be unduly alarmed. He had -served his apprenticeship; and with an axe and a frying -pan, a kettle, some flour, tea, and a tin cup or two, his -position would have had no terrors.</p> - -<p>Beyond the gorge he had a shot at a deer and the -echoes derided him, for he missed it. He shot again at -smaller things and had the luck to bring down two squirrels; -then realizing that his cartridges were precious, -made his way back to camp.</p> - -<p>The girl was already at the fire, her crutch beside her -against the fallen log.</p> - -<p>“I thought you were never coming.” She smiled. -“I heard your shooting and it frightened me.”</p> - -<p>Gallatin held the squirrels out for her inspection.</p> - -<p>“There!” he said.</p> - -<p>“Poor little things, what a pity! They were all so -happy up there this morning.”</p> - -<p>“I’m afraid it can’t be helped. We must eat, you -know. Did you have any luck?”</p> - -<p>She opened her creel and showed him.</p> - -<p>Again she had caught more than he.</p> - -<p>He laughed delightedly. “From this moment you -are appointed Fish-wife Extraordinary. I fish no more. -When my cartridges are used I’ll have nothing to do but -sit by the fire.”</p> - -<p>“Did you find your trail?” she asked anxiously.</p> - -<p>“I followed it for a mile or so. I’m afraid I’ll have -to start early to-morrow. I want to see you comfortable -first.”</p> - -<p>His manner was practical, but she did not fail to catch<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_43" id="Page_43">[43]</a></span> -the note of uncertainty in his voice. She bent her gaze -on the ground, and spoke slowly.</p> - -<p>“You’re very kind to try to keep me in ignorance, but -I think I understand now. We will be here a long time.”</p> - -<p>“Oh, I didn’t mean that. I don’t think that,” cheerfully. -“If I were more experienced, I would promise to -find my own guide to-morrow. I’m going to do the best -I can. I won’t come back here until I have to acknowledge -myself beaten. Meanwhile, many things may happen. -Your people will surely——”</p> - -<p>“We are lost, both of us—hopelessly,” she persisted. -“The fish strike here as though these streams had never -been fished before. My people will find me, if they can; -if they can’t—I—I—must make the best of my position.”</p> - -<p>She spoke bravely, but there was a catch in her voice -that he had heard before.</p> - -<p>“I’ll do the best I can. I want you to believe that. -Three or four days at the most and I’m sure I can promise -you——”</p> - -<p>“I’d rather you wouldn’t promise,” she said. “We’ll -get out someway, of course, and if it wasn’t for this provoking -foot——”</p> - -<p>“Isn’t it better?”</p> - -<p>“Oh, yes—better. But, of course, I can’t bear my -weight on it. It’s so tiresome.”</p> - -<p>She seemed on the point of tears, and while he was -trying to think of something to say to console her, she -reached for her crutch and bravely rose.</p> - -<p>“I’m not going to cry. I abominate whining women. -Give me something to do, and I won’t trouble you with -tears.”</p> - -<p>“You’re plucky, that’s certain,” he said admiringly. -“The lunch must be cooked. We’ll save the squirrels for -supper. I’m going to work on your house. I’m afraid<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_44" id="Page_44">[44]</a></span> -there’s no tea—no real tea, but we might try arbor-vitæ. -They say its palatable.”</p> - -<p>She insisted on cleaning the fish and preparing the -meal while he sat beside her and began sewing two rolls -of thick birch-bark together with white spruce-roots. -Between whiles she watched him with interest.</p> - -<p>“I never heard of sewing a roof before,” she said with -a smile.</p> - -<p>“It’s either sewing the roof or reaping the whirlwind,” -he laughed. “It may not rain before we get out of here, -but I think it’s best not to take any chances. The woods -are not friendly when they’re wet. Besides, I’d rather -not have any doctor’s bills.”</p> - -<p>“That’s not likely here,” she laughed. “And the -lunch is ready,” she announced.</p> - -<p>All that afternoon he worked upon her shelter and by -sunset it was weather-tight. On three sides and top -it was covered with birches, and over the opening toward -the fire was a projecting eave which could be lowered over -one side as a protection from the wind. When he had -finished it he stood at one side and examined his handiwork -with an approving eye.</p> - -<p>She had already thanked him many times.</p> - -<p>“Of course, I don’t know how to show my gratitude,” -she said again.</p> - -<p>“Then don’t try.”</p> - -<p>“But you can’t sleep out again.”</p> - -<p>“Oh, yes, I can. I’m going to anyway.”</p> - -<p>“You mustn’t.”</p> - -<p>He glanced up at her quizzically.</p> - -<p>“Why not?”</p> - -<p>“I want to take my share.”</p> - -<p>“I’m afraid you can’t. That house is yours. You’re -going to sleep there. I’m afraid you’ll have to obey orders,”<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_45" id="Page_45">[45]</a></span> -he finished. “You see, I’m bigger than you are.”</p> - -<p>Her eyes measured his long limbs and her lips curved -in a crooked little smile.</p> - -<p>“I don’t like to obey orders.”</p> - -<p>“I’m afraid you must.”</p> - -<p>“You haven’t any right to make yourself uncomfortable.”</p> - -<p>“Oh, yes, I have,” he said. “Might is right—in the -woods.”</p> - -<p>Something in the way he spoke caused her to examine -his face minutely, but his eyes were laughing at her.</p> - -<p>“Oh!” she said meekly.</p> - -<hr class="chap" /> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_46" id="Page_46">[46]</a></span></p> - - - - -<div class="chapter"> -<h2><a name="V" id="V">V</a><br /> -<small>WOMAN AND MAN</small></h2> -</div> - - -<p class="cap">There were no voices in the woods that night, or -if there were any the girl in the lean-to did not -hear them. The sun had already found its way -past the protecting flap of her shack before she awoke. -The first thing she discovered was that at some time -during the night he had put his coat over her again. She -held it for a moment in her fingers thinking, before she -rose; then got up quickly and peered out. The morning -was chill, but the fire showed signs of recent attention and -on the saucepan which had been placed near the fire a -piece of birch-bark was lying. She picked it up curiously -to read a hastily pencilled scrawl:</p> - -<p>“I’m off up country. I must go far, so don’t be -frightened if I’m not back for supper. Be careful with -your foot—and keep the fire going. There are fish and -firewood enough to last. Nothing can harm you. With -luck I’ll bring my guide and duffel-bag.”</p> - -<p>She glanced quickly over her shoulder into the depths -of the pine-woods in the direction he must have taken as -though she hoped to see him walking there; then, the -birch-bark still in her hands, sat down on the log, read -the message over again, smiling. She had begun to understand -this tall young man, with the grim, unshaven -face and somber, peering eyes. Those eyes had frightened -her at first; and even now the memory of them haunted -her until she recalled just what they did when he smiled,<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_47" id="Page_47">[47]</a></span> -and then remembered that she was not to be frightened -any more.</p> - -<p>He had been gone for several hours. She knew this by -the condition of the fire, but wondered why he had not -spoken more definitely about his plans the night before. -Possibly he had been afraid that she would not have slept. -She <em>had</em> slept, soundly, dreamlessly, and she found herself -wondering how she could have done so. The last thing -she could recall was looking out through sleepy eyes at -his profile as he sat motionless by the fire staring into -the shadows. She knew then that fear of him had passed -and that had she slept under a city roof she could not -have been more contented to sleep securely.</p> - -<p>He would be gone all day, of course, and she must -depend upon her own exertions. First she filled the little -saucepan with water and put it between the two flat -stones that served for its hearth, and then took from -the creel two fish that he had cleaned the night before. -Half way to the fire she paused, her crutch in mid-air, -balancing herself safely without its aid. She peered to -right and left among the branches and then put the fish -back into the creel in quick decision.</p> - -<p>A bath! She had been longing for it for two days! -Her resolution made, she took up her crutch and hobbled -down the stream, turning her head back over her shoulder -in the direction of the camp as if she still feared she -might have misread the birch-bark message. Warm with -expectancy and the delight of the venture, she found a -sheltered pool beneath the dense foliage and bathed her -lithe young body in the icy water. Gasping for breath -she splashed across the sandy pool and back again with -half uttered cries of delight; and the Naiads and Oreads -flitted fearfully among the trees whispering and peering -cautiously at the slim white creature which had intruded<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_48" id="Page_48">[48]</a></span> -so fearlessly upon their secret preserves. The water was -cold! Oh, so cold! With one last plunge which set her -teeth chattering, the bather clambered up the bank into -the sunlight chilled to the bone, but glowing suddenly -with the swift rush of new blood along her rosy limbs. -Upright upon the bank she moved vigorously back and -forth, and releasing her hair, let it clothe and warm her, -while she stood drying, her face toward the sun. Apollo -looked with favor on this Clytië and sent his warmest rays -that she might not have gazed at him in vain.</p> - -<p>A miracle had happened to her ankle, too, for she -moved quite without pain. Dressing and making her way -back to the fire, using her crutch only as a staff, she -gathered cedar by the way, for her morning tea. Her -mentor had made some of it for her the night before and -her lips twisted at the thought of drinking it again; but -the essence of the woods, their balsam, their fragrance, -their elixir had permeated her and even this bitter physic -seemed palatable now. She remembered his couplet last -night:</p> - -<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0">A quart of arbor-vitæ<br /></span> -<span class="i0">To make you big and mighty.<br /></span> -</div></div> - -<p>At the fire she spitted her fish, leaning back against -the log, her hair drying in the sun and wind, the warm -fire bringing a warm glow throughout her body. She ate -and then stretched her arms toward the kindly trees. It -was good to be strong and young, with life just ripening. -At that moment it did not matter just what was to become -of her. She was sure that she no longer felt any -uneasiness as to the end of her adventure. Her guardian -had gone to find a way out. He would come back to-night. -In time she would go back to camp. She didn’t care when—the -present seemed sufficient.</p> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_49" id="Page_49">[49]</a></span></p> - -<p>In all ways save one—<em>she had no mirror</em>. She combed -her hair with her back comb and braided it carefully with -fingers long accustomed. Instinct demanded that she look -at her face; circumstance refused her the privilege, for -of Vanity Boxes she had none. And, when, like Narcissus, -she knelt at the brink of the pool and looked into its -depths, the water was full of iridescent wrinkles and she -only saw the mocking pebbles upon the bottom, having -not only her labor, but a wetting for her pains. But she -accepted the reproof calmly and finished her toilet -<i lang="la" xml:lang="la">secundum naturam</i>.</p> - -<p>The larder was full, but she fished again—up stream -this time, for evening might bring another mouth to feed. -The morning dragged wearily enough and she came back -to her fire early, with but four fish to her credit account. -She hung the creel in its accustomed place and resumed -her seat by the fire, her look moving restlessly from one -object to another. At last it fell upon his coat which -she had left on the couch in the shelter. She got up, -brought it forth into the light and brushed it carefully. -Several objects fell from its pockets—a tobacco pouch -nearly empty, a disreputable and badly charred briarwood -pipe and some papers. She picked up the objects -one by one and put them back. As she did so her eye -caught the superscription of a letter. She drew it forth -quickly and examined it again as though she had not been -certain that she had read it correctly; then the other -envelope, scanning them both eagerly. They were inscribed -with the same name and address—all written with -the same feminine scrawl, and the paper smelt of heliotrope. -She held them in her fingers a moment, her lips -compressed, her brow thoughtful and then abruptly thrust -them into the pocket again and put the coat into the -shelter.</p> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_50" id="Page_50">[50]</a></span></p> - -<p>She sat for a long while, her chin in her hand, looking -into the ashes of the fire. A cloud moved slowly across -the face of the sun, and its shadow darkened the glade. -A hush fell upon the trees as though all living things -had stopped to listen. The girl glanced at the sky and -saw that the heavens were dark with the portent of a -storm, when some new thought suddenly struck her, for -she rose quickly, her look moving from the shack to the -trees beside it, a pine and a maple tree, measuring the distance -and the ground between them. Of one thing she -was now certain, another shelter must be built at once.</p> - -<p>Her crutch in her hand she made her way into the -thicket, her small pearl handled knife clutched resolutely -in her palm, attacking vigorously the first straight limb -within reach. At the end of ten minutes she had cut -only half way through it, and her tender hands were red -and blistered. But she put her weight on the bough and -snapped it, cutting at last through the tough fibers and -dragging it into the open. Ten minutes more of cutting -at the twigs and her roof joist was in position. Her next -attempt was unfortunate; for she had hardly begun to -cut a notch in the branch she had selected, when the knife-blade -broke and the handle twisted in her hand, the -jagged edge cutting a gash in her thumb. She cried out -with pain, dropping the knife from trembling fingers. It -was not a serious wound, but the few drops of blood made -her think it so; and, pale and a little frightened, she made -her way to the stream and dipped it into the cooling -water, bathing and bandaging it with her handkerchief.</p> - -<p>She had learned something. The woods were only -friendly to those who knew how to cope with them. She -did not know how to cope with them, and at this moment -hated them blindly. There seemed to be nothing left but -to sit by the fire and have a cry. This done, she felt<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_51" id="Page_51">[51]</a></span> -better, but she made no further attempt to build the -hut.</p> - -<p>The sky darkened rapidly and a few drops of rain -pattered noisily among the dry leaves. She had no means -of learning the hour of the day. She guessed that it -would soon be time to prepare supper, but for a long -while she did not move. She was conquered by the inevitable -facts of nature and her eyes plaintively regarded -the beginnings of the house which might have been, but -was not.</p> - -<p>The fire, like her spirits of the morning, had sunk. -But she rose now, her face set in hard little lines of determination, -and laid on fresh logs. As the cheerful -flames arose her spirits kindled, too, and she lifted the -creels from the limb and sat down again in her accustomed -place to prepare the scanty meal. Her eyes sought the -up-country trail more frequently and more anxiously, -but the shadows of the night had fallen thickly before -she decided to cook her solitary meal. She was not hungry -as she had been in the morning and even the odor -of the cooking fish was not appetizing. She only cooked -because cooking at this time seemed part of the established -order of things and because cooking was something that -belonged to the things that she could do.</p> - -<p>She ate mechanically, rose and washed her utensils -without interest. The rain was falling steadily; but she -did not seem to care, and only when she had finished her -tasks did she seek the shelter of the hut. Even then she -stood leaning against the young birch-tree looking out -at the darkness and listening, her brows puckered in tiny -wrinkles of worry. At last with a sigh, she sank on her -balsam bed and closed her eyes.</p> - -<p>The night was sombrous and the rain had been falling -for an hour. The girl sat beneath the shelter of her<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_52" id="Page_52">[52]</a></span> -projecting eave upon the ground, where she might look -out up the stream, her chin on her knees, her hands clasped -about her ankles, watching the rain drops fall glistening -into the circle of firelight and hiss spitefully among the -fretting flames. She had been crying again and her -eyes were dark with apprehension. Her hair hung in -moist wisps about her brow and temples and her lips were -drawn in plaintive lines. She listened intently. A dead -branch in the distance cracked and fell. She started -up and peered out for the hundredth time in the direction -from which she might expect his approach. Only the -soft patter of the rain on the soaked foliage and the -ominous blackness of before! She went out into the wet, -heaping more logs upon the flames. The fire at least must -be kept burning. He had asked that of her. That was -her duty and she did it unquestioning like the solitary cliff-woman, -awaiting in anxious expectation the return of her -lord. She would not lie down upon her balsam bed; for -that would mean that she denied the belief that he <em>would</em> -return, and so she sat, her forehead now bent upon her -knees, her eyes closed, only her ears acutely alive to the -slightest distant sounds.</p> - -<p>Suddenly she raised her head, her eyes alight. She -heard sounds now, human sounds, the crunch of footfalls -in the moist earth, the snapping of fallen twigs. She -ran out into the rain and called joyously. A voice -answered. She ran forward to meet him. He emerged -into the light striding heavily, bent forward under the -weight of something he was carrying.</p> - -<p>“Oh, I’m so glad,” she cried, her voice trembling. “I -had begun to fear—I don’t know what. I thought—you—you—weren’t -coming back.”</p> - -<p>He grinned wearily. “I believe I’d almost begun to -think so myself. Phew! But the thing is heavy!”</p> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_53" id="Page_53">[53]</a></span></p> - -<p>He lowered it from his shoulders and threw it heavily -near the fire.</p> - -<p>“W—what is it?” she asked timidly.</p> - -<p>“A deer. I shot it,” he said laconically.</p> - -<p>He straightened slowly, getting the kinks out of his -muscles with an effort; and she saw that his face was -streaked with grime and sweat and that his body in the -firelight was streaming with moisture. His eyes peered -darkly from deep caverns.</p> - -<p>“Oh! You’re so tired,” she cried. “Sit down by -the fire at once, while I cook your supper.” And, as he -made no move to obey her, she seized him by the arms and -led him into the shelter of the hut and pushed him gently -down upon the couch. “You’re not to bother about -anything,” she went on in a businesslike way. “I’ll have -you something hot in a jiffy. I’m so—<em>so</em> sorry for you.”</p> - -<p>He sat in the bunk, with a drooping head, his long legs -stretched toward the blaze.</p> - -<p>“Oh, I’m all right,” he grunted. But he watched her -flitting to and fro with dull eyes and took the cup of water -she offered him without protest. She spitted the fish -skillfully, crouching on the wet log as she broiled them, -while he watched her, half asleep with the grateful sense -of warmth and relaxation. He did not realize until now -that he had been on the move with little rest for nearly -eighteen hours, during four of which he had carried a -double burden.</p> - -<p>The cedar tea she brought him first. He made a wry -face but emptied the saucepan.</p> - -<p>“By George, that’s good! I never tasted anything -better.” He ate hungrily—like an animal, grumbling at -the fish bones, while she cooked more fish, smiling at him. -There was some of the squirrel left and he ate that, too, -not stopping to question why she had not eaten it herself.<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_54" id="Page_54">[54]</a></span> -Another saucepan of the tea, and he gave a great -sigh of satisfaction and moved as though to rise. But -she pushed him gently down again, fumbling meanwhile -in the pockets of his coat which lay beside the bed.</p> - -<p>“Your pipe—and tobacco,” she said, handing them to -him with a smile. “I insist, you deserve them,” she went -to the fire and brought him a glowing pine twig, and -blew it for him until the tobacco was ready. In a moment -he was puffing mechanically.</p> - -<p>She sank quickly upon the dry ground beside him and -he looked at her in amazement.</p> - -<p>“I forgot,” he muttered. “Your ankle!”</p> - -<p>“It’s well,” she smiled. “I had forgotten it, too. -I haven’t used the crutch since morning.”</p> - -<p>“I’m glad of that, a day or two of rest and we’ll soon -be out of here.”</p> - -<p>He had not spoken of their predicament before, nor -had she. It seemed as though in the delight of having -him (or some one) near her, she had forgotten the object -of his pilgrimage. He had not forgotten. His mind and -body ached too sorely for him to forget his failure. She -saw the tangle at his brows and questioned timidly.</p> - -<p>“You had—had no luck?”</p> - -<p>“No, I hadn’t, and I went almost to the headwaters. -I found no signs of travel anywhere, though I searched the -right bank carefully. I thought I could remember—” he -put his hand to his brow and drew his long fingers down -his temple, “but I didn’t.”</p> - -<p>“Don’t worry about it. I’m not frightened now. In -a day or two when I’m quite sure of my foot, we’ll go out -together. I think I really am—getting a little tired of -fish,” she finished smiling.</p> - -<p>“I don’t wonder. How would a venison steak strike -you?”</p> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_55" id="Page_55">[55]</a></span></p> - -<p>“Ah, I forgot. Delicious! You must be a very good -shot.”</p> - -<p>“Pure luck. You see my eyes were pretty wide open -to-day and the breeze was favoring. I got quite close -to her and fired three times before she could start. After -I shot she got away but I found some blood and followed. -She didn’t get far.”</p> - -<p>“Poor thing!” she said softly, her eyes seeking the -dark shadow beyond the fire. “Poor little thing!”</p> - -<p>He looked down at her, a new expression in his eyes; -yesterday she had been a petulant, and self-willed child, -creating a false position where none need have existed, -diffident and pretentious by turns, self-conscious and over-natural. -To-night she was all woman. Under his tired -lids he could see that—tender, compassionate, gentle, but -strong—always strong. There were lines in her face, -too, that he had not seen before. She had been crying. -One of her hands, too, was bound with a handkerchief.</p> - -<p>“You’ve hurt yourself again?” he asked.</p> - -<p>“No—only a scratch. My knife—I—I was cutting”—hesitating—“cutting -sticks for the fish.”</p> - -<p>If she had not hesitated, he might not have examined -her so minutely. As it was she looked up at him irresolutely -and then away. Over her head, beyond the edge -of the shack, he saw the young pine-tree that she had -placed for a roof support.</p> - -<p>“Ah!” he muttered. But he understood. And -knocking his pipe out against his heel, quietly rose. It -was raining still, not gently and fitfully, as it had done -earlier in the evening, but steadily, as though nature had -determined to compensate with good measure for the weeks -of clear skies that had been apportioned.</p> - -<p>“I’ve got to get to work,” he said resolutely.</p> - -<p>“At what?”</p> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_56" id="Page_56">[56]</a></span></p> - -<p>“The shack you began——”</p> - -<p>“No.”</p> - -<p>She answered so shortly that he glanced at her. Her -head was turned away from him.</p> - -<p>“I mean it,” she insisted, still looking into the darkness. -“You can do no more to-night. You must sleep -here.”</p> - -<p>“You’re very kind,” he began slowly.</p> - -<p>“No—I’m only just—” she went on firmly. “You’re -so tired that you can hardly get up. I’m not going to let -you build that shack. Besides, you couldn’t. Everything -is soaking. Won’t you sit down again? I want -to talk to you.”</p> - -<p>Slowly he obeyed, dumb with fatigue, but inexpressibly -grateful.</p> - -<p>“I don’t want you to think I’m a little fool,” she said -with petulant abruptness, as though denying an imputation. -“I think I had a right to be timid yesterday and -the day before. I was very much frightened and I felt -very strangely. I don’t know very many—many men. I -was brought up in a convent. I don’t think I quite knew -what to—to expect of you. But I think I do now.” She -turned her gaze very frankly to his, a gaze that did -not waver or quibble with the issue any more than her -words did. “You’ve been very thoughtful—very considerate -of me and you’ve done all that strength could do -to make things easier for me. I want you to know that -I’m very—very thankful.”</p> - -<p>He began to speak—but her gesture silenced him.</p> - -<p>“It seems to me that the least I can do is to try and -accept my position sensibly——”</p> - -<p>“I’m sure you’re doing that——”</p> - -<p>“I’m trying to. I don’t want you to think I’ve any -nonsense left in my head—or false consciousness. I want<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_57" id="Page_57">[57]</a></span> -you to treat me as you’d treat a man. I’ll do my share -if you’ll show me how.”</p> - -<p>“You’re more likely to show <em>me</em> how,” he said.</p> - -<p>“No. I can show you nothing but appreciation. I -<em>do</em> that, don’t I?”</p> - -<p>“Yes—I hope I’ll deserve it.”</p> - -<p>“I’m taking that risk,” she said, with a winning laugh. -“I’d have to be pretty sure of you, or I wouldn’t be -sitting here flattering you so.”</p> - -<p>“I hope you’ll keep on,” drowsily. “I like it.”</p> - -<p>“There! I knew it. I’ve spoiled you already. You’ll -be making me haul the firewood to-morrow.”</p> - -<p>“And cook breakfast,” he put in sleepily. “Of -course, I’ll not stir out of here all day if you talk like -this.”</p> - -<p>“Then I won’t talk any more.”</p> - -<p>“Do, please, it’s very soothing.”</p> - -<p>“I actually believe you’re falling asleep.”</p> - -<p>“No—just dreaming.”</p> - -<p>“Of what?”</p> - -<p>“Of the time a thousand years ago when you and I -did all this before.”</p> - -<p>She looked at him with startled eyes.</p> - -<p>“What made you say that?”</p> - -<p>“Because I dreamed it.”</p> - -<p>“It’s nonsense.”</p> - -<p>“I suppose it is. I’m—half—asleep.”</p> - -<p>She was silent a moment—her wide gaze on the fire.</p> - -<p>“It’s curious that you should say that.”</p> - -<p>“Why is it? I only told what I was dreaming of.”</p> - -<p>“You haven’t any business dreaming such things.”</p> - -<p>“It all happened—all happened before,” he muttered -again. His head was nodding. He slept as he sat. She -got up noiselessly and taking him by the shoulders lowered<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_58" id="Page_58">[58]</a></span> -him gently to the bed. His lips babbled protestingly, -but he did not wake, and in a moment he was breathing -heavily in the deep sleep of exhaustion.</p> - -<p>She stood beside him for a moment, smiling, and then -softly sank upon the ground by his side, still watching. -The rain had stopped falling, but outside the glistening -circle of the firelight the water from the heavy branches -dripped heavily. The heavens lightened and a bleary -cloud opened a single eye and, blinking a moment, at last -let the moonlight through. From every tree pendants -of diamonds, festoons of opals were hung and flashed their -radiance in the rising breeze, falling in splendid profusion. -Over her head the drops pattered noisily upon the roof. -After awhile, she heard them singly and at last silence -fell again upon the forest.</p> - -<p>It was her night of vigil and the girl kept it long. -She was not frightened now. <i>Kee-way-din</i> crooned a -lullaby, and she knew that the trees which repeated it -were her friends. It was a night of mystery, of dreams -and of a melancholy so sweet that she was willing even then -to die with the pain of it.</p> - -<p>And in the distance a voice sang faintly:</p> - -<div lang="fr" xml:lang="fr"> -<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0">Le jour bien souvent dans nos bois<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Hélas! le cœur plein de souffrance,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Je cherche ta si doux voix<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Mais tout se tait, tout est silence<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Oh! loin de toi, de toi que j’aime,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Dans les ennuis, ô mes amours,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Dans les regrets, douleur extreme,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Loin de toi je passe mes jours.<br /></span> -</div></div> -</div> - -<p>The girl at last slept uneasily, her head pillowed upon -the cedar twigs beside the body of the man, who lay as<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_59" id="Page_59">[59]</a></span> -he had first fallen, prone, his arms and legs sprawling. -Twice during the night she got up and rebuilt the fire, -for it was cold. Once a wolf sat just outside the circle -of firelight grinning at her, not even moving at her approach, -but she threw a stick at him and he slunk away. -After that, she pulled the carcass of the deer into the -opening of the hut and mounted guard over it until she -was sure the wolf would not return. Then she lay down -again and listened to the breathing of the man.</p> - -<hr class="chap" /> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_60" id="Page_60">[60]</a></span></p> - - - - -<div class="chapter"> -<h2><a name="VI" id="VI">VI</a><br /> -<small>THE SHADOW</small></h2> -</div> - - -<p class="cap">The third morning rose cold and clear. <i>Kee-way-din</i> -had brushed the heavens clean, and the rising sun -was burnishing them. Orange and rose color vied -for precedence in the splendid procession across the zenith, -putting to flight the shadows of violet and purple which -retreated westward in rout before the gorgeous pageantry -of the dawn.</p> - -<p>The girl stirred and started up at once, smiling hopefully -at the radiant sky. Each tree awoke; each leaf -and bough sent forth its fragrant tribute. Nature had -wept, was drying her tears; and all the woods were glad.</p> - -<p>The man still slept. The girl listened again for the -sounds of his breathing, and then rose slowly and walked -out. She shivered with the cold and dampness, for her -feet had been wet the night before and were not yet dry, -but the fire still glowed warmly. The damp twigs sputtered -in protest as she put them on and a shaft of white -smoke slanted down the wind, but presently the grateful -crackling was followed by a burst of flame.</p> - -<p>The explosion of a pine-knot awoke the sleeper in the -hut, who rolled over on his couch, looking around him with -heavy eyes, unable to put his thoughts together. A ray -of sunlight fell upon the girl’s face and rested there; and -he saw that she was pale and that her hair had fallen in -disorder about her shoulders. He understood then. He -had slept upon <em>her</em> bed while she—for all he knew—had -spent the night where he now saw her. He straightened,<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_61" id="Page_61">[61]</a></span> -struggled stiffly to his feet and stumbled out, rubbing his -eyes.</p> - -<p>She greeted him with a wan smile.</p> - -<p>“Good morning,” she said. “I awoke first, you see.”</p> - -<p>“I c-can’t forgive myself.”</p> - -<p>“Oh, yes, you can, since <em>I</em> do.”</p> - -<p>“I don’t know what to say to you.”</p> - -<p>“You might say ‘good morning.’”</p> - -<p>“I’ve been asleep,” he went on with a slow shake of -his head, “while you lay—on the ground. I didn’t know. -I only remember sitting there. I meant to get up——”</p> - -<p>She laughed deliciously.</p> - -<p>“But you couldn’t have—unless you had walked in -your sleep.”</p> - -<p>“I remember nothing.” He ran his blackened fingers -through his hair. “Oh, yes, the trail—the deer—and—you -cooking fish—and then—after that—we talked, didn’t -we?”</p> - -<p>He was awake now, and blundered forward eagerly to -take the branch which she had lifted from the wood-pile. -But she yielded grudgingly.</p> - -<p>“I’m to do my share—that we agreed——”</p> - -<p>“No—you’re a woman. You shall do nothing—go -into the hut and rest.”</p> - -<p>“I’m not tired.”</p> - -<p>Her appearance belied her words. He looked down -at her tenderly and laid his hand gently on her shoulder.</p> - -<p>“You have not slept?”</p> - -<p>“Oh, yes, I slept,” looking away.</p> - -<p>“Why didn’t you wake me?”</p> - -<p>“It wasn’t necessary.”</p> - -<p>She smiled, but did not meet his gaze, which she felt -was bent eagerly in search of her own.</p> - -<p>“Where did you sleep?” he asked again.</p> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_62" id="Page_62">[62]</a></span></p> - -<p>“In the shelter—beside you.”</p> - -<p>“And I did not know! Do you think you can forgive -me?”</p> - -<p>She put her hand to her shoulder and gently removed -his fingers. But his own seized hers firmly and would not -let them go.</p> - -<p>“Listen, please,” he pleaded, “won’t you? I want -you to understand—many things. I want you to know -that I wouldn’t willingly have slept there for anything -in the world. It’s a matter of pride with me to make you -comfortable. I’m under a moral obligation to myself—it -goes deeper than you can ever guess—to bring you -safely out of this, and give you to your people. You -don’t know how I’ve blessed the chance that threw you -in my way—here—since I’ve been in the woods—that it -happened to be my opportunity instead of some one -else’s who didn’t need it as I did. I <em>did</em> need it. I can’t -tell you how or why, but I did. It doesn’t matter who I -am, but I want you to appreciate this much, at least, that -I never knew anything of the joy of living until I found -it here, the delight of the struggle to satisfy the mere -pangs of healthy hunger—yours and mine, the wonderful -ache of muscles stretched to the snapping point.” He -stopped, with a sharp sigh.</p> - -<p>“Oh, I know you can’t understand all this. I don’t -think I want you to—or why it hurts me to know that -for one night at least you have suffered——”</p> - -<p>“I do understand, I think,” she murmured slowly. -She had not looked at him, and her gaze sought the distant -trees. “I did not suffer, though,” she added.</p> - -<p>“You had been crying—they hurt me, too, those -anxious eyes of yours.”</p> - -<p>“I was afraid you might not come back, that was all,” -she said frankly. “I’m rather useless, you see.”</p> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_63" id="Page_63">[63]</a></span></p> - -<p>He took her other hand and made her look at him.</p> - -<p>“You felt the need of me?” he queried.</p> - -<p>“Yes, of course,” she said simply. “What would I -have done without you?”</p> - -<p>He laughed happily, “What wouldn’t you have done—if -you hadn’t cut your finger?”</p> - -<p>She colored and her eyes, in some confusion, sought -the two trees which still bore the evidence of her ill-fated -building operation.</p> - -<p>“Yesterday, when I was away you started to build a -shack for me,” he went on. “It was your right, of -course——”</p> - -<p>“No, no,” she protested, lowering her head. “I -thought you’d like it so, I——”</p> - -<p>“I understand,” gently. “But it seems——”</p> - -<p>“It was a selfish motive after all,” she broke in again. -“Your strength is more important than mine——”</p> - -<p>He smiled and shook his head.</p> - -<p>“You can’t mislead me. Last night I learned something -of what you are—gentle, courageous, motherly, -self-effacing. I’ll remember you so—always.”</p> - -<p>She disengaged her hands abruptly and took up the -saucepan.</p> - -<p>“Meanwhile, the breakfast is to be cooked—” she said -coolly. There was no reproof in her tone, only good fellowship, -a deliberate confirmation of her promises of the -night before.</p> - -<p>With a smile he took the saucepan from her hand and -went about his work. It seemed that his failure yesterday -to find a way out meant more to him this morning -than it did to her. His limbs were heavy, too, and his -body ached from top to toe; but he went to the brook and -washed, then searched the woods for the blueberries that -she liked and silently cooked the meal.</p> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_64" id="Page_64">[64]</a></span></p> - -<p>As he did not eat she asked him, “Aren’t you -hungry?”</p> - -<p>“Not very.”</p> - -<p>He took up a fish and turned it over in his fingers. “I -think I’ll wait for the venison pasty.”</p> - -<p>“Don’t you feel well?”</p> - -<p>“Just a little loggy,” that’s all. “I think I slept too -long.”</p> - -<p>She looked up at him suddenly, and then with friendly -solicitude, laid her fingers lightly along his brow. The -gesture was natural, gentle, so exquisitely feminine, that -he closed his eyes delightedly, conscious of the agreeable -softness of her fingers and the coolness of their touch.</p> - -<p>“Your brow is hot,” she said quickly.</p> - -<p>“Is it?” he asked. “That’s queer, I feel chilly.”</p> - -<p>“You’ve caught a bad cold, I’m afraid,” she said, removing -her fingers. “It’s very—very imprudent of you.”</p> - -<p>Not satisfied with the rapidity of her diagnosis, he -thrust his hand toward her for confirmation.</p> - -<p>“I haven’t any fever, have I?”</p> - -<p>Her fingers lightly touched his wrist.</p> - -<p>“I’m afraid so. Your pulse is thumping pretty fast.”</p> - -<p>“<em>Very</em> fast?”</p> - -<p>“Yes.”</p> - -<p>“You must be mistaken.”</p> - -<p>“No, you have fever. You’ll have to rest to-day.”</p> - -<p>“I don’t want to rest. I couldn’t if I wanted to.”</p> - -<p>“You <em>must</em>!” she said peremptorily. “There’s nothing -but the firewood. I can get that.”</p> - -<p>“There’s the shack to build,” he said.</p> - -<p>“The shack must wait,” she replied.</p> - -<p>“And the deer to be butchered?”</p> - -<p>She looked at the carcass and then put her fingers -over her eyes. But she looked up at him resolutely.</p> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_65" id="Page_65">[65]</a></span></p> - -<p>“Yes,” she persisted, “I’ll do that, too—if you’ll -show me how.”</p> - -<p>He looked at her a moment with a soft light in his -deep-set eyes and then rose heavily to his feet.</p> - -<p>“It’s very kind of you to want to make me an invalid,” -he said, “but that can’t be. There’s nothing wrong with -me. What I want is work. The more I have the better -I’ll feel. I’m going to skin the deer.” And disregarding -her protests, he leaned over and caught up the hind-legs -of the creature, dragging it into the bushes.</p> - -<p>The effort cost him a violent throbbing in the head -and pains like little needle pricks through his body. His -eyes swam and the hand that held his knife was trembling; -but after a while he finished his work, and cutting a strong -young twig, thrust it through the tendons of the hind -legs and carried the meat back to camp, hanging it high -on a projecting branch near the fire.</p> - -<p>She watched him moving slowly about, but covered her -eyes at the sight of his red hands and the erubescent -carcass.</p> - -<p>“Don’t you feel like a murderer?” she asked.</p> - -<p>“Yes,” he admitted, “I think I do; half of me does—but -the hunter, the primitive man in me is rejoicing. -There’s an instinct in all of us that belongs to a lower -order of creation.”</p> - -<p>“But it—it’s unclean——”</p> - -<p>“Then all meat is unclean. The reproach is on the -race—not on us. After all we are only first cousins to -the South-Sea gentlemen who eat one another,” he laughed.</p> - -<p>“I don’t believe I can eat it,” she shuddered.</p> - -<p>“Oh, yes, you will—when you’re hungry.”</p> - -<p>“I’ll never eat meat again,” she insisted. “Never! -The brutality of it!”</p> - -<p>“What’s the difference?” he laughed. “In town<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_66" id="Page_66">[66]</a></span> -we pay a butcher to do our dirty work—here we do it -ourselves. Our responsibilities are just as great there -as here.”</p> - -<p>“That’s true—I never thought of that, but I can’t -forget that creature’s eyes.” And while she looked -soberly into the fire, he went down to the stream and -cleansed himself, washing away all traces of his unpleasant -task. When he returned she still sat as before.</p> - -<p>“Why is it?” she asked thoughtfully, “that the animal -appetites are so repellent, since we ourselves are -animals? And yet we tolerate gluttony—drunkenness -among our kind? We’re only in a larva state after all.”</p> - -<p>He had sunk on the log beside her for the comfort of -the blaze, and as she spoke the shadows under his brows -darkened with his frown and the chin beneath its stubble -hardened in deep lines.</p> - -<p>“I sometimes think that Thoreau had the right idea -of life,” she said slowly. “There are infinite degrees of -gluttony—infinite degrees of drunkenness. I felt shame -for you just now—for myself—for the blood on your -hands. I can’t explain it. It seemed different from -everything else that you have done here in the woods, for -the forest is clean, sweet-smelling. I did not like to -feel ashamed for you. You see,” she smiled, “I’ve been -rating you very highly.”</p> - -<p>“No,” he groaned, his head in his hands. “Don’t! -You mustn’t do that!”</p> - -<p>At the somber note she turned and looked at him -keenly. She could not see his face, but the fingers that -hid it were trembling.</p> - -<p>“You’re ill!” she gasped. “Your body is shaking.”</p> - -<p>He sat up with an effort and his face was the color -of ashes.</p> - -<p>“No, it’s nothing. Just a chill, I think. I’ll be all -right in a minute.”</p> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_67" id="Page_67">[67]</a></span></p> - -<p>But she put her arm around him and made him sit on -the log nearest to the fire.</p> - -<p>“This won’t do at all,” she said anxiously. “You’ve -got to take care of yourself—to let me take care of you. -Here! You must drink this.”</p> - -<p>She had taken the flask from her pocket and before -he knew it had thrust it to his lips. He hesitated a moment, -his eyes staring into space and then without question, -drank deep, his eyes closed.</p> - -<p>And as the leaping fires went sparkling through his -body, he set the vessel down, screwed on the lid and put -it on the log beside him. Two dark spots appeared beneath -the tan and mounted slowly to his temples, two red -spots like the flush of shame. An involuntary shudder -or two and the trembling ceased. Then he sat up and -looked at her.</p> - -<p>“A mustard foot-bath and some quinine, please,” he -asked with a queer laugh.</p> - -<p>But she refused to smile. “You slept in your soaking -clothes last night,” severely.</p> - -<p>He shrugged his shoulders and laughed again.</p> - -<p>“That’s nothing. I’ve done that often. Besides, -what else could I do? If you had wakened me——”</p> - -<p>“That is unkind.”</p> - -<p>She was on the verge of tears. So he got to his feet -quickly and shaking himself like a shaggy dog, faced her -almost jauntily.</p> - -<p>“I’m right as a trivet,” he announced. “And I’m -going to call you Hebe—the cup-bearer to the gods—or -Euphrosyne. Which do you like the best?”</p> - -<p>“I don’t like either,” she said with a pucker at her -brow. And then with the demureness which so became -her. “My name is—is Jane.”</p> - -<p>“Jane!” he exclaimed. “Jane! of course. Do you -know I’ve been wondering, ever since we’ve been here what<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_68" id="Page_68">[68]</a></span> -name suited you best, Phyllis, Millicent, Elizabeth, and -a dozen others I’ve tried them all; but I’m sure now that -Jane suits you best of all. Jane!” he chuckled gleefully. -“Yes, it does—why, it’s <em>you</em>. How could I ever have -thought of anything else?”</p> - -<p>Her lips pouted reluctantly and finally broke into -laughter, which showed her even white teeth and discovered -new dimples.</p> - -<p>“Do you really like it?”</p> - -<p>“How could I help it? It’s <em>you</em>, I tell you—so -sound, sane, determined and a little prim, too.”</p> - -<p>“I’m <em>not</em> prim.”</p> - -<p>“Yes,” he decided, “you’re prim—when you think -that you ought to be.”</p> - -<p>“Oh.”</p> - -<p>He seated himself beside her, looking at her quizzically -as though she was a person he had never seen before—as -though the half-identity she provided had invested her -with new and unexpected attributes.</p> - -<p>“It was nice of you to tell me. My name is Phil,” -he said.</p> - -<p>“Is it?” she asked almost mechanically.</p> - -<p>“Yes, don’t you like it?”</p> - -<p>Her glance moved quickly from one object to another—the -shelter, the balsam bed, and the crutch which leaned -against the door flap.</p> - -<p>“Don’t you like it?” he repeated eagerly.</p> - -<p>“No,” quietly. “It isn’t like you at all.”</p> - -<p>Probed for a reason, she would give none, except the -woman’s reason which was no reason at all. Only when he -ceased probing did she give it, and then voluntarily.</p> - -<p>“I’m afraid I’ll have to change it then,” he laughed.</p> - -<p>“Yes, change it, please. The only Phils I’ve ever -known were men of a different stripe—men without purposes,<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_69" id="Page_69">[69]</a></span> -without ambitions.” And then, after a pause, “I -believe you to be different.”</p> - -<p>“No! I have no purposes—no ambitions,” he said -glowering again at the fire.</p> - -<p>“That is not true.”</p> - -<p>“How do you know?”</p> - -<p>“Because you have ideals—of purity, of virtue, of -courage.”</p> - -<p>“No,” he mumbled, “I have no ideals. Life is a -joke—without a point. If it has any, I haven’t discovered -it yet.”</p> - -<p>Her eyes sought his face in a vague disquiet, but he -would not meet her look. The flush on his cheek had -deepened, his gaze roved dully from one object to another -and his fingers moved aimlessly upon his knees. She had -proved him for three days, she thought, with the test of -acid and the fire, but she did not know him at this moment. -The thing that she had discovered and recognized -as the clean white light of his inner genius had been suddenly -smothered. She could not understand. His words -were less disturbing than his manner, and his voice sounded -gruff and unfamiliar to her ears.</p> - -<p>She rose quietly and moved away, and he did not -follow her. He did not even turn his head and for all -she knew was not aware that she had gone. This was -unlike him, for there had never been a moment since they -had met when she could have questioned his chivalry, his -courtesy or good manners. Her mind was troubled -vaguely, like the surface of a lake which trembles at the -distant storm.</p> - -<p>A walk through the forest soothed her. The brook—her -brook and his—sang as musically as before, the long -drawn aisles had not changed, and the note of praise still -swelled among the fretted vaults above. The birds made<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_70" id="Page_70">[70]</a></span> -light of their troubles, too, and the leaves were whispering -joyously the last gossip of the wood. What they said -she could not guess, but she knew by the warm flush that -had risen to her cheeks that it must be personal.</p> - -<p>When she returned to camp her arms were full of -asters and cardinal flowers. He greeted her gravely, with -an almost too elaborate politeness.</p> - -<p>“I hope you’ll forgive me,” he begged her. “I don’t -think I’m quite myself to-day.”</p> - -<p>“Are you feeling better?” she questioned.</p> - -<p>“Yes, I’m quite—quite comfortable. I was afraid -I had offended you.”</p> - -<p>“Oh, no, I didn’t understand you for a moment. That -was all.” She lifted the flowers so that he might see them -better. “I’ve brought these for our lunch-table.”</p> - -<p>But he did not look at them. His eyes, still glowing -unfamiliarly, sought only hers.</p> - -<p>“Will you forgive me?”</p> - -<p>“Yes, of course,” lightly.</p> - -<p>“I want—I want your friendship. I can’t tell you -how much. I didn’t say anything that offended you, did -I? I felt pretty seedy. Everything seemed to be slipping -away from me.”</p> - -<p>“Not now?”</p> - -<p>“Oh, no. I’m all right.”</p> - -<p>He took the flowers from her arms and laid them -at the foot of a tree. Then coming forward he thrust -out both his hands suddenly and took her by the -elbows.</p> - -<p>“Jane!” he cried, “Jane! Look up into my eyes! -I want you to see what you’ve written there. Why -haven’t you ever seen it? Why wouldn’t you look and -read? It’s madness, perhaps; but if it’s madness, then -madness is sweet—and all the world is mad with me.<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_71" id="Page_71">[71]</a></span> -There isn’t any world. There’s nothing but you and me—and -Arcadia.”</p> - -<p>She had turned her gaze to the ground and would not -look at him but she struggled faintly in his embrace. The -color was gone from her cheeks now and beneath the long -lashes that swept her cheek—one great tear trembled and -fell.</p> - -<p>“No, no—you mustn’t,” she whispered, stifling. “It -can’t—it mustn’t be. I don’t——”</p> - -<p>But he had seized her more closely in his arms and -shackled her lips with his kisses.</p> - -<p>“I’m mad—I know—but I want you, Jane. I love -you—I love you—I want the woods to hear——”</p> - -<p>She wrenched one arm free and pushed away, her -eyes wide, for the horror of him had dawned slowly.</p> - -<p>“Oh!” she gasped. “<em>You!</em>”</p> - -<p>As he seized her again, she drew back, mad with fear, -shrunken within herself, like a snake in a thicket coiling -itself to thrust and then struck viciously.</p> - -<p>He felt the impact of a blow full in the face and -staggered back releasing her. And her accents, sharp, -cruel, vicious, clove the silence like sword-cuts.</p> - -<p>“You cad! You brute! You utter brute!”</p> - -<p>He came forward like a blind man, mumbling incoherently, -but she avoided him easily, and fled.</p> - -<p>“Jane!” he called hoarsely. “Come back to me, -Jane. Come back to me! Oh, God!”</p> - -<p>He stumbled and fell; then rose again, putting his -hands to his face and running heavily toward the spot -where she had vanished into the bushes—the very spot -where three days ago she had appeared to him. He -caught a glimpse of her ahead of him and blundered on, -calling for forgiveness. There was no reply but the echo -of his own voice, nor any glimpse of her. After that he<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_72" id="Page_72">[72]</a></span> -remembered little, except that he went on and on, tripping, -falling, tearing his face and clothes in the briars, getting -to his feet and going on again, mad with the terror of -losing her—an instinct only, an animal in search of its -wounded mate.</p> - -<p>He did not know how long he strove or how far, but -there came a time when he fell headlong among some -boulders and could rise no more.</p> - -<hr class="tb" /> - -<p>That morning two Indian guides in search of a woman -who had been lost, met another Indian at the headwaters -of a stream, and together they followed a fresh trail—the -trail of a big man wearing hob-nailed boots and carrying -a burden. In the afternoon they found an empty -shack beside which a fire was burning. Two creels hung -side by side near the fire and upon the limb of a tree -was the carcass of a deer. There were many trails into -the woods—some made by the feet of a woman, some by the -feet of a man.</p> - -<p>The three guides sat at the fire for awhile and smoked, -waiting.</p> - -<p>Then two of them got up and after examining the -smaller foot-marks silently disappeared. When they had -gone the third guide, a puzzled look on his face, picked -up an object which had fallen under a log and examined -it with minute interest. Then with a single guttural sound -from his throat, put the object in his pocket and bending -well forward, his eyes upon the ground, glided noiselessly -through the underbrush after them.</p> - -<hr class="chap" /> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_73" id="Page_73">[73]</a></span></p> - - - - -<div class="chapter"> -<h2><a name="VII" id="VII">VII</a><br /> -<small>ALLEGRO</small></h2> -</div> - - -<p class="cap">A storm of wind and rain had fallen out of the -Northwest, and in a night had blown seaward the -lingering tokens of Autumn. The air was chill, -the sunshine pale as calcium light, and distant buildings -came into focus, cleanly cut against the sparkling sky -at the northern end of the Avenue; jets of steam appeared -overhead and vanished at once into space; flags quivered -tensely at their poles; fast flying squadrons of clouds -whirled on to their distant rendezvous, their shadows leaping -skyward along the sunlit walls. In a stride Winter -had come. The city had taken a new <i>tempo</i>. The <i>adagio</i> -of Indian Summer had come to a pause in the night; and -with the morning, the baton of winter quickened its beat -as the orchestra of city sounds swung into the <i>presto</i> -movement. Upon the Avenue shop-windows bloomed suddenly -with finery; limousines and broughams, new or refurbished, -with a glistening of polished nickel and brass, -drew up along the curbs to discharge their occupants who -descended, briskly intent on the business of the minute, -in search of properties and backgrounds for the winter -drama.</p> - -<p>In the Fifth Avenue window of the Cosmos Club, some -of the walking gentlemen gathered in the afternoon and -were already rehearsing the familiar choruses. All summer -they had played the fashionable circuit of house-parties -at Narragansett, Newport and other brief stands, -and all recounted the tales of the road, glad at last to<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_74" id="Page_74">[74]</a></span> -be back in their own corners, using the old lines, the old -gestures, the old cues with which they had long been -familiar.</p> - -<p>If its summer pilgrimage had worked any hardship, -the chorus at the windows of the Cosmos Club gave no -sign of it. It was a well-fed chorus, well-groomed, well-tailored -and prosperous. Few members of it had ever -played a “lead” or wished to; for the tribulations of -star-dom were great and the rewards uncertain, so they -played their parts comfortably far up-stage against the -colorful background.</p> - -<p>Colonel Broadhurst took up the glass which Percy -Endicott had ordered and regarded it ponderously.</p> - -<p>“Pretty, aren’t they?” he asked sententiously of no -one in particular, “pretty, innocent, winking bubbles! -Little hopes rising and bursting.”</p> - -<p>“Hope deferred maketh the heart sick,” put in the -thirsty Percy promptly. “Luck, Colonel!” and drank.</p> - -<p>With a long sigh the Colonel lifted his glass. “Why -do we do it?” he asked again. “There’s nothing—positively -nothing in it.”</p> - -<p>“You never said a truer thing,” laughed Ogden -Spencer, for the Colonel had set his empty glass upon the -table.</p> - -<p>“Oh, for the days of sunburnt mirth—of youth and -the joyful Hippocrene!” the Colonel sighed again.</p> - -<p>“Write—note—Chairman—House Committee,” said -Coleman Van Duyn, arousing from slumber, thickly, -“mighty poor stuff here lately.”</p> - -<p>“Go back to sleep, Coley,” laughed Spencer. “It’s -not your cue.”</p> - -<p>Van Duyn lurched heavily forward for his glass, and -drank silently. “Hippocrene?” he asked. “What’s -Hippocrene?”</p> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_75" id="Page_75">[75]</a></span></p> - -<p>“Nectar, my boy,” said the Colonel pityingly, “the -water of the gods.”</p> - -<p>“Water!” and with a groan, “Oh, the Devil!”</p> - -<p>He joined good naturedly in the laugh which followed -and settled back in his leather chair.</p> - -<p>“Oh, you laugh, you fellows. It’s no joke. Drank -nothing but water for two months this summer. Doctors -orders. Drove the water wagon, <em>I</em> did—two long months. -Think of it!” The retrospect was so unpleasant that -Mr. Van Duyn leaned forward immediately and laid his -finger on the bell.</p> - -<p>“Climb off, Coley?” asked Spencer.</p> - -<p>“No, jumped,” he grinned. “Horse ran away.”</p> - -<p>“You’re looking fit.”</p> - -<p>“I am. Got a new doctor—sensible chap, young, -ambitious, all that sort of thing. Believes in alcohol. -Some people need it, you know. Can’t be too careful in -choice of doctor. Wants me to drink Lithia water, -though. What’s this Hippo—hippo——”</p> - -<p>“Chondriac!” put in Percy.</p> - -<p>“Hippocrene,” said Broadhurst severely.</p> - -<p>“Sounds like a parlor car—or—er—a skin food. Any -good, Colonel?”</p> - -<p>“No,” said Colonel Broadhurst with another sigh, -“It wouldn’t suit your case, Coley.”</p> - -<p>A servant entered silently, took the orders and removed -the empty glasses.</p> - -<p>“Where were you, Coley?” asked Percy.</p> - -<p>“Woods—Canada.”</p> - -<p>“Fishing?”</p> - -<p>“Yep—some.”</p> - -<p>“See anything of Phil Gallatin?”</p> - -<p>“No. I was with a big outfit—ten guides, call ’em -servants, if you like. Air mattresses, cold storage plant,<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_76" id="Page_76">[76]</a></span> -<em>chef</em>, bottled asparagus tips, Charlotte Russe—fine camp -that!”</p> - -<p>“Whose?”</p> - -<p>“Henry K. Loring. You know—coal.”</p> - -<p>“Oh—I see. There’s a girl, isn’t there?”</p> - -<p>“Yes.”</p> - -<p>Van Duyn reached for his glass and lapsed into surly -silence.</p> - -<p>But Percy Endicott was always voluble in the afternoon.</p> - -<p>“You didn’t hear about Phil?”</p> - -<p>“No—not another——”</p> - -<p>“Oh, no, he hasn’t touched a drop for weeks. Got -lost up there. I heard the story at Tuxedo from young -Benson who just come down. He had it from a guide. -It seems that Phil got twisted somehow in the heart of the -Kawagama country and couldn’t find his way back to -camp. He’s not much of a woodsman—hadn’t ever been -up there before, and the guide couldn’t pick up his -trail——”</p> - -<p>“Didn’t he lose his nerve?”</p> - -<p>“Not he. He couldn’t, you see. There was a girl -with him.”</p> - -<p>“A girl! The plot thickens. Go on.”</p> - -<p>“They met in the woods. She was lost, too, so Phil -built a lean-to and they lived there together. Lucky dog! -Idyllic—what?”</p> - -<p>“Well, rather! Arcadia to the minute. But how -did they get on?” asked the Colonel.</p> - -<p>“Famously——”</p> - -<p>“But they couldn’t live on love.”</p> - -<p>“Oh, they fished and ate berries, and Gallatin shot a -deer.”</p> - -<p>“Lucky, lucky dog!”</p> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_77" id="Page_77">[77]</a></span></p> - -<p>“They’d be there now, if the guides hadn’t found -them.”</p> - -<p>“His guides?”</p> - -<p>“Yes, and hers.”</p> - -<p>“Hers! She wasn’t a native then?”</p> - -<p>“Not on your life. A New Yorker—and a clinker. -That’s the mystery. Her guide came from the eastward -but her camp must have been—why, what’s the matter, -Coley?”</p> - -<p>Mr. Van Duyn had put his glass upon the table and -had risen heavily from his easy chair, his pale blue eyes -unpleasantly prominent. He pulled at his collar-band -and gasped.</p> - -<p>“Heat—damn heat!” and walked away muttering.</p> - -<p>It was just in the doorway that he met Phil Gallatin, -who, with a smile, was extending the hand of fellowship. -He glowered at the newcomer, touched the extended fingers -flabbily and departed, while Gallatin watched him go, not -knowing whether to be angry or only amused. But he -shrugged a shoulder and joined the group near the -window.</p> - -<p>The greetings were cordial and the Colonel motioned -to the servant to take Gallatin’s order.</p> - -<p>“No, thanks, Colonel,” said Gallatin, his lips slightly -compressed.</p> - -<p>“Really! Glad to hear it, my boy. It’s a silly -business.” And then to the waiting-man: “Make mine a -Swissesse this time. It’s ruination, sir, this drinking when -you don’t want it—just because some silly ass punches the -bell.”</p> - -<p>“But suppose you <em>do</em> want it,” laughed Spencer.</p> - -<p>“Then all the more reason to refuse.”</p> - -<p>Gallatin sank into the chair that Van Duyn had vacated. -These were his accustomed haunts, these were<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_78" id="Page_78">[78]</a></span> -his associates, but he now felt ill at ease and out of place -in their company. He came here in the afternoons sometimes, -but the club only made his difficulties greater. He -listened silently to the gossip of the widening group of -men, of somebody’s <em>coup</em> down town, of Larry Kane’s trip -to the Rockies, of the opening of the hunting season on -Long Island, the prospects of a gay winter and the thousand -and one happenings that made up the life of the -leisurely group of men about him. The servant brought -the tray and laid the glasses.</p> - -<p>“Won’t change your mind, Phil?” asked Colonel -Broadhurst again.</p> - -<p>Gallatin straightened. “No, thanks,” he repeated.</p> - -<p>“That’s right,” laughed the Colonel jovially. “The -true secret of drinking is to drink when you don’t want -it—and refuse when you do.”</p> - -<p>“Gad! Crosby, for a man who never refuses—” began -Kane.</p> - -<p>“It only shows what a martyr I am to the usages of -society,” concluded the Colonel with a chuckle.</p> - -<p>“How’s the crop of buds this year?” queried Larry -Kane.</p> - -<p>“Ask ‘Bibby’ Worthington,” suggested Percy Endicott. -“He’s got ’em all down, looks, condition, action, -pedigree——”</p> - -<p>“Bigger than usual,” said the gentleman appealed to, -“queens, too, some of ’em.”</p> - -<p>“And have you picked out the lucky one already?” -laughed Spencer.</p> - -<p>“Bibby” Worthington, as everybody knew, had been -“coming out” for ten years, with each season’s crop of -debutantes, and each season had offered his hand and heart -to the newest of them.</p> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_79" id="Page_79">[79]</a></span></p> - -<p>But the question touched his dignity in more than one -tender spot, and he refused to reply.</p> - -<p>“They’re all queens,” sighed the Colonel, raising his -glass. “I love ’em all, God bless ’em, their rosy faces, -their round limpid eyes——”</p> - -<p>“And the smell of bread and jam from the nursery,” -put in Spencer, the materialist, dryly. “Some newcomers, -aren’t there, Billy?”</p> - -<p>“Oh, yes, a few Westerners.”</p> - -<p>“Oh, well, we need the money, you know.”</p> - -<p>The crowd broke up into groups of two and three, -each with its own interests. Gallatin rose and joined -Kane and Endicott at the window, where the three sat for -awhile watching the endless procession of vehicles and -pedestrians moving up and down the Avenue.</p> - -<p>“Good sport in Canada, I hear, Phil,” said Percy in -a pause of conversation.</p> - -<p>Gallatin glanced quickly at his companion.</p> - -<p>“Fishing—yes,” he said quietly, unable to control the -flush that had risen unbidden to his temples. “No shooting.”</p> - -<p>“That’s funny,” went on the blissful Endicott with a -laugh. “I heard you got a deer, Phil.”</p> - -<p>“Oh, yes, one——”</p> - -<p>“A two-legged one—with skirts.”</p> - -<p>Gallatin started—his face pale.</p> - -<p>“Who told you that?” he asked, his jaw setting.</p> - -<p>“Oh, don’t get sore, Phil. Somebody’s brought the -story down from Montreal—about your being lost in the -woods—and—and all that,” he finished lamely. “Sorry -I butted in.”</p> - -<p>“So am I,” said Gallatin, stiffly.</p> - -<p>Percy’s face crimsoned, and he stammered out an -apology. He knew he had made a mistake. Gossip that<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_80" id="Page_80">[80]</a></span> -he was, he did not make it a habit to intrude upon other -men’s personal affairs, especially men like Gallatin who -were intolerant of meddlers; but the story was now common -property and to that extent at least he was justified.</p> - -<p>“Don’t be unpleasant, Phil, there’s a good chap. I -only thought——”</p> - -<p>“Oh, it doesn’t matter in the least,” said Gallatin, -rising, suddenly aware of the fact that the whole incident -would only draw his adventure into further notoriety. -“Somebody’s made a good story of it,” he laughed. “I -did meet a—a girl in the woods and she stayed at my camp -until her guides found her, that’s all. I don’t even know -who she was,” he finished truthfully.</p> - -<p>Percy Endicott wriggled away, glad to be let off so -easily; and after a word with Kane, Gallatin went quietly -out.</p> - -<p>He reached the street and turning the corner walked -northward blindly, in dull resentment against Percy Endicott, -and the world that he typified. Their story of his -adventure, it appeared, was common property, and was -being handed with God knows what hyperbole from one -chattering group to another. It didn’t matter about himself, -of course. He realized grimly that this was not the -first time his name had played shuttlecock to the fashionable -battledore. It was of her he was thinking—of Jane. -Thank God, they hadn’t found a name to couple with his. -What they were telling was doubtless bad enough without -that, and the mere fact that his secret was known had -already taken away some of the idyllic quality with which -he had invested it. He knew what fellows like Ogden -Spencer and Larry Kane were saying. Had he not himself -in times past assisted at the post mortems of dead -reputations, and wielded his scalpel with as lively a skill -as the rest of them?</p> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_81" id="Page_81">[81]</a></span></p> - -<p>Two months had passed since that day in the woods -when he had lost her, but there wasn’t a day of that time -when he had not hoped that some miracle would bring -them together again. In Canada he had made inquiries -at the camps he had passed, and poor Joe Keegón, who -had spent a day with her guides, had come in for his -share of recrimination. The party had come from the -eastward, and had made a permanent camp; there were -many people and many guides, but no names had passed. -Joe Keegón was not in the habit of asking needless questions.</p> - -<p>One thing alone that had belonged to her remained -to Gallatin—a small gold flask which bore, upon its surface -in delicate script, the letters J.L. On the day that -they had broken camp Joe Keegón had silently handed it -to him, his face more masklike than ever. Gallatin had -thrust it into his coat-pocket with an air of indifference -he was far from feeling, and had brought it southward -to New York, where it now stood upon the desk in the -room of his boyhood, so that he could see it each day, -the token of a great happiness—the symbol of an ineffable -disgrace.</p> - -<p>It seemed now that Gallatin had not needed that reminder, -for since he had been back in the city he had been -working hard. It surprised him what few avenues of -escape were open to him, for when he went abroad and did -the things he had always done, there at his elbow was the -Bowl. But his resolution was still unshaken, and difficult -as he found the task, he went the round of his clubs at the -usual hours and joined perfunctorily in the conversation. -Always companionable, his fellows now found him reticent, -more reserved and less prone to make engagements. Bridge -he had foresworn and the card room at the Cosmos saw -him no more. He stopped in at the club on the way<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_82" id="Page_82">[82]</a></span> -home as he had done to-day, sometimes leaving his associates -with an abruptness which caused comment.</p> - -<p>But already he was finding the trial he had set for himself -less difficult; and as the habit of resistance grew on -him, he realized that little by little he was drifting away -from the associations which had always meant so much -to him. He had not given up the hope of finding Jane. -From a chance phrase, which he had treasured, he knew -that New York was familiar to her and that some day -he would see her. He was as sure of that as though Jane -herself had promised it to him. She owed him nothing, -of course, for in the hour of his madness he had thrown -away the small claims he had upon her gratitude, and -the only memory she could have of him was that which -had been expressed in the look of fear and loathing he had -last seen in her eyes. To her, of course, time and distance -had only magnified that horror and he knew that -when he met her, there was little to expect from her -generosity, little that he would even dare ask of it except -that she would listen while he told her of the enemy in his -house and of the battle that was still raging in his heart. -He wanted her to know about that. It was his right to -tell her, not so much to clear himself of blame, as to justify -her for the liberality of her confidence before the tide -of battle had turned against him—against them both.</p> - -<p>Time and distance had played strange tricks with -Jane’s image and at times it seemed very difficult for Gallatin -to reconstruct the picture which he had destroyed. -Sometimes she appeared a Dryad, as when he had first -seen her, running frightened through the wood, sometimes -the forlorn child with the injured ankle, sometimes -the cliff-woman; but most often he pictured her as when -he had seen her last, running in terror and dismay from -the sight of him. And the other Jane, the Jane that he<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_83" id="Page_83">[83]</a></span> -knew best, was hidden behind the eyes of terror. The -memory was so vague that he sometimes wondered whether -he would even know her if he met her dressed in the mode -of the city. Somehow he could not associate her with the -thought of fashionable clothes. She had worn no hat -nor had she needed one. She belonged to the deep woods, -where dress means only warmth and art means only artificiality. -He always thought of her hatless, in her tattered -shirtwaist and skirt, and upon Fifth Avenue was as -much at a loss as to the kind of figure he must look for -as though he were in the land of the great Cham.</p> - -<p>Yes, he would know her, her slender figure, her straight -carriage, the poise of her head, her brown hair, her deep -blue eyes. No fripperies could conceal them. These -were Jane. He would know them anywhere.</p> - -<hr class="chap" /> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_84" id="Page_84">[84]</a></span></p> - - - - -<div class="chapter"> -<h2><a name="VIII" id="VIII">VIII</a><br /> -<small>CHICOT, THE JESTER</small></h2> -</div> - - -<p class="cap">Philip Gallatin had been mistaken. He did -not know Jane when he saw her. For, ten minutes -later, he met her face to face in one of the paths -of the Park—looked her in the face and passed on unknowing. -Like the hound in the fable, he was so intent -upon the reflection in the pool that he let slip the substance. -He was conscious that a girl had passed him -going in the opposite direction, a girl dressed in a dark -gray tailor-made suit, with a fur at her neck and a dark -muff swinging in one hand—a slender girl beside whom two -French poodles frisked and scampered, a handsome girl -in fashionable attire, taking her dogs for an airing. He -walked on and sat down on a bench which overlooked the -lake. The sun had fallen below the Jersey hills and only -the tops of the tall buildings to the eastward held its dying -glow. The lawns were swathed in shadow and the -branches of the trees, already half denuded of their foliage, -emerged in solemn silhouette like a pattern of Irish -lace against the purpling sky. A hush had suddenly fallen -on the distant traffic and Gallatin was alone.</p> - -<p>Out of the half-light an inky figure came bounding -up to him and sniffed eagerly at his knees. It was a -black poodle. Gallatin patted the dog encouragingly, -upon which it whined, put its paws on his lap and looked -up into his face.</p> - -<p>“Too bad, old man,” he said. “Lost, aren’t you?” -Then, as the memory came to him, “By George, your mistress<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_85" id="Page_85">[85]</a></span> -will be hunting. I wonder if we can find her.” He -turned the nickel collar in his fingers and examined the -name-plate. There in script was the name of the owner, -and an address. Gallatin thrust the crook of his stick -through the dog’s collar and rose. He must find Miss -Jane Loring or return the animal to its home. Jane Loring? -Jane—?</p> - -<p>He stopped, bent over the excited dog and looked at -the name plate again. Jane Loring—“J. L.” Why—it -was Jane’s dog! He had passed her a moment ago—here—in -the park. More perturbed even than the wriggling -poodle, he rose and hurried along the path down -which he had come. There could be no mistake. Of -course, it was Jane! There was no possible doubt about -it! That blessed poodle!</p> - -<p>“Hi! there! Let up, will you?” he cried, as the -dog twisted and squirmed away from him. A whistle -had sounded shrilly upon Gallatin’s left and before he -knew it the dog had escaped him and was dashing hotfoot -through the leaves toward the spot where a dark figure -with another dog on a leash was rapidly moving.</p> - -<p>Gallatin followed briskly and came up a moment later, -in the midst of the excitement of reunion and reconciliation.</p> - -<p>“Down, Chicot, down, I say,” the girl was commanding. -“Aren’t you ashamed of yourself to be giving so -much trouble!” And as Gallatin approached, breathlessly, -hat in hand, “I’m ever so much obliged. I ought -to have had him in leash. He’s only a puppy and—” -She stopped, mouth open, eyes wide as she recognized him. -He saw the look she gave him and bowed his head.</p> - -<p>“Jane!” he said, humbly. “Jane!”</p> - -<p>The dogs were leaping around them both and Chicot<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_86" id="Page_86">[86]</a></span> -was biting joyously at his gloved hand, but Miss Loring -had drawn back.</p> - -<p>“You!” she said.</p> - -<p>“Yes,” softly. “I—I’m so glad to see you.”</p> - -<p>He held his hand before him as though to parry an -expected blow.</p> - -<p>“Don’t,” he muttered. “Give me a chance. There’s -so much I’ve got to say,—so much——”</p> - -<p>“There’s nothing for you to say,” she said decisively. -“If you’ll excuse me—I—I must be going at once.”</p> - -<p>She turned away quickly, but the dogs were putting -her dignity in jeopardy for the puppy still nosed Gallatin’s -hand and showed a determination to linger for his -caress.</p> - -<p>“You’ve <em>got</em> to listen,” he murmured. “I’m not going -to lose you again——”</p> - -<p>“Come, Chicot,” said the girl in a voice which was -meant to be peremptory, but which sounded curiously ineffective. -Chicot would not go until Gallatin caught him -by the collar and followed.</p> - -<p>“You see,” he laughed, “you’ve got to stand for me—or -lose the puppy.”</p> - -<p>But Miss Loring had turned abruptly and was moving -rapidly toward the distant Avenue. Gallatin put on his -hat and walked at her side.</p> - -<p>“I want you to know—how it all happened to me—up -there in the woods,” he muttered, through set lips. -“It’s only justice to me—and to you.”</p> - -<p>“Will you please leave me!” she said, in a stifled -voice, her head stiffly set, her eyes looking straight down -the path before her.</p> - -<p>“No,” he replied, more calmly. “I’m not going to -leave you.”</p> - -<p>“Oh, that you would dare!”</p> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_87" id="Page_87">[87]</a></span></p> - -<p>“Don’t, Jane!” he pleaded. “Can’t you see that -I’ve got to go with you whether——”</p> - -<p>“My name is Loring,” she interrupted coldly, strongly -accenting the word.</p> - -<p>“Won’t you listen to me?”</p> - -<p>“I’m entirely at your mercy—unfortunately. I’ve -always thought that a girl was safe from intrusion here -in the Park.”</p> - -<p>“Don’t call it that. I’ll go in a moment, if you’ll -only hear what I’ve got to say.”</p> - -<p>“You’d offer an apology for—for <em>that</em>!” She could -not find a tone that suited her scorn of him.</p> - -<p>“No—not apology,” he said steadily. “One doesn’t -apologize for the things beyond one’s power to prevent. -It’s the <i>miserere</i>, Jane—the <i>de profundis</i>——”</p> - -<p>“It comes too late,” she said, but she stole a glance -at him in spite of herself. His head bent slightly forward, -he was gazing, under lowered brows directly before him -into the falling dusk. She remembered that look. He -had worn it when he had sat by their camp-fire the night -they had heard the voices.</p> - -<p>“Yes, I know,” he went on slowly. “Too late for -you to understand—too late to help, and yet——”</p> - -<p>“I beg that you will not go on,” she broke in quickly. -“It can do no good.”</p> - -<p>“I must go on. I’ve got so much to say and such a -little time to say it in. Perhaps, I won’t see you again. -At least I won’t see you unless you wish it.”</p> - -<p>“Then you’ll not see me again.”</p> - -<p>He turned his head and examined her soberly.</p> - -<p>“That, of course, is your privilege. Don’t be too -hard, if you can help it. Try and remember me, if you -can, as I was before——”</p> - -<p>“I shall not remember you at all, Mr. Gallatin.”</p> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_88" id="Page_88">[88]</a></span></p> - -<p>He started as she spoke his name. “You knew?”</p> - -<p>“Yes, I knew. You—your name was familiar to -me.”</p> - -<p>“You mean that you had heard of me?” he asked wonderingly.</p> - -<p>She knew that she had said too much, but she went on -coldly.</p> - -<p>“In New York one hears of Philip Gallatin. I knew—there -in the woods. I discovered your name by accident—upon -your letters.”</p> - -<p>She spoke shortly—hesitantly, as if every word was -wrung from her by an effort of will.</p> - -<p>“I see,” he said, “and what you heard of me—was not -good?”</p> - -<p>“No,” she said. “It was not good. But I had -known you two days then, and I—I thought there must—have -been some mistake—until—” she broke off passionately. -“Oh, what is the use of all this?” she gasped. -“It’s lowering to your pride and to mine. If I have -said more than I meant to say, it is because I want you -to know why I never want to see you—to hear of you -again.”</p> - -<p>He bowed his head beneath the storm. He deserved it, -he knew, and there was even a bitter pleasure in his retribution, -for her indifference had been hardest to bear.</p> - -<p>“I understand,” he said quietly. “I will go in a -moment. But first I mean that you shall hear what I have -to say.”</p> - -<p>She remembered that tone of command. He had used -it when he had lifted her in his arms and carried her helpless -to his camp-fire. The memory of it shamed her, as -his presence did now, and she walked on more rapidly. -Their path had been deserted, but they were now approaching -the Avenue where the hurrying pedestrians and<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_89" id="Page_89">[89]</a></span> -vehicles proclaimed the end of privacy. A deserted bench -was before them.</p> - -<p>“Please stop here a moment,” he pleaded. “I won’t -keep you long.” And when she would have gone on he -laid a hand on her arm. “You must!” he insisted passionately. -“You’ve got to, Jane. You’ll do me a great -wrong if you don’t. I’ve kept the faith with you since -then—since I was mad there in the wilderness. You -didn’t know or care, but I’ve kept the faith—the good -you’ve done—don’t undo it now.”</p> - -<p>A passer-by was regarding them curiously and so -she sat, for Gallatin’s look compelled her. She did not -understand what he meant, and in her heart she knew she -could not care whose faith he kept, or why, but she recognized -in his voice the note of a deep emotion, and was -conscious of its echo in her own spirit. Outwardly she -was as disdainful as before, and her silence, while it gave -him consent, was anything but encouraging. As he sat -down beside her the puppy, “Chicot,” put his head upon -Gallatin’s knees and looked up into his eyes, so Gallatin -put his hand on the dog’s head and kept it there.</p> - -<p>“I want you to know something about my people—about—the -Gallatins——”</p> - -<p>“I know enough, I think.”</p> - -<p>“No—you’re mistaken. We are not all that you -think we are. Let me go on,” calmly. “The Gallatins -have always stood for truth of speech and honesty of -purpose, and whatever their failings they have all been -called honorable men. Upon the Bench, at the Bar, in -the Executive chair, no word has ever been breathed -against their professional integrity or their civic pride. -My great grandfather was a Justice of the Supreme Court -of the United States, my grandfather a Governor of the -State of New York, my father——”</p> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_90" id="Page_90">[90]</a></span></p> - -<p>Miss Loring made a gesture of protest.</p> - -<p>“Wait,” he insisted. “My father was a great lawyer—one -of the greatest this City and State have ever known—and -yet all of these men, mental giants of their day and -generation—had—had a weakness—the same weakness—the -weakness that I have. To one of them it meant the -loss of the only woman he had ever loved—his wife and -his children; to another the sacrifice of his highest political -ambition; to my father a lingering illness of which he -subsequently died. That is my pedigree—of great honor—and -greater shame. History has dealt kindly because -their faults were those of their blood and race, for which -they themselves were not accountable. This may seem -strange to you because you have only learned to judge -men by their performances. The phenomenon of heredity -is new to you. People are taught to see the physical resemblances -of the members of a family to its ancestors—but -of the spiritual resemblance one knows nothing—unless—” -his voice sunk until it was scarcely audible, “unless -the spiritual resemblance is so strong that even Time -itself cannot efface it.”</p> - -<p>The girl did not speak. Her head was bowed but her -chin was still set firmly, and her eyes, though they looked -afar, were stern and unyielding.</p> - -<p>“When I went to the woods, I was—was recovering—from -an illness. I went up there at the doctor’s orders. -I <em>had</em> to go, and I—I got better after a while. Then <em>you</em> -came, and I learned that there was something else in life -besides what I had found in it. I had never known——”</p> - -<p>“I can’t see why I should listen to this, Mr. Gallatin.”</p> - -<p>“Because what happened after that, you were a part -of.”</p> - -<p>“<em>I?</em>”</p> - -<p>“It was you who showed me how to be well. That’s<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_91" id="Page_91">[91]</a></span> -all,” he finished quietly. He rubbed the dog’s ears between -his fingers and got some comfort from Chicot’s -sympathy, but went on in a constrained voice. “I was -hoping you might understand, that you might give me -charity—if only the charity you once gave to the carcass -of a dead deer.”</p> - -<p>There was a long silence during which he watched her -downcast profile, but when at last she lifted her head, he -knew that she was still unyielding.</p> - -<p>“You ask too much, Mr. Gallatin,” she said constrainedly. -“If you were dead you might have my pity—even -my tears, but living—living I can only—only hold you in—abhorrence.”</p> - -<p>She rose from the bench quickly and shortened in the -leashes of her dogs.</p> - -<p>“You—you dislike me so much as that?” he asked -dully.</p> - -<p>“Dislike and—and fear you, Mr. Gallatin. If you’ll -excuse me——”</p> - -<p>She turned away and Gallatin started up. Dusk had -fallen and they were quite alone.</p> - -<p>“I can’t let you go like this,” he whispered, standing -in front of her so that she could not pass him. “I can’t. -You mean that you fear me because of what—happened—My -God! Haven’t I proved to you that it was madness, -the madness of the Gallatin blood, which strikes at the -happiness of those it loves the best? I love you, Jane. -It’s true. Night and day——”</p> - -<p>“You’ve told me that before,” she broke in fearlessly. -“Must you insult me again. For shame! Let me pass, -please.”</p> - -<p>It was the assurance of utter contempt. Gallatin -bowed his head and drew aside. There was nothing left -to do.</p> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_92" id="Page_92">[92]</a></span></p> - -<p>He stood there in the dusk, his head uncovered, and -watched her slender figure as it merged into the darkness. -Only the dog, Chicot, stopped, struggling, at his leash, -but its mistress moved on hurriedly without even turning -her head and was lost in the crowd upon the street. Gallatin -lingered a moment longer immovable and then turned -slowly and walked into the depths of the Park, his face -pale, his dark eyes staring like those of a blind man.</p> - -<p>Night had fallen swiftly, but not more swiftly than the -shadows on his spirit, among which he groped vaguely -for the elements that had supported him. He crept into -the night like a stricken thing, his feet instinctively -guiding him away from the moving tide of his fellow-beings—one -of whom had just denied him charity—without -which his own reviving faith in himself was again in -jeopardy. For two months he had fought his battle -silently with her image in his mind—the image of a girl -who had once given him faith and friendship, whose fingers -had soothed him in fever, and whose eyes had been dark -with compassion—the girl who had taught him the uses -of responsibility and the glorification of the labor of his -hands. That silent battle had magnified the image, vested -it with sovereign rights, given it the gentle strength by -which he had conjured, and he had fought joyfully, with -a new belief in his own destiny, a real delight in conquest. -His heart glowed with a dull wrath. Was it nothing that -he had come to her clean-handed again? The image that -he had conjured was fading in the sullen glow in the West -out of which she had come to him. Was this Jane? The -Jane he knew had sorrowed with the falling of a bird, -mourned the killing of a squirrel and wept over the glazed -eyes of a dead deer. Was this Jane? This disdainful -woman with the modish hat and cold blue eye, this scornful<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_93" id="Page_93">[93]</a></span> -daughter of convention who sneered at sin and mocked -at the tokens of repentance?</p> - -<p>The image was gone from his shrine, and in its place -a Nemesis sat enthroned—a Nemesis in dark gray who -looked at him with the eyes of contempt and who called -herself Miss Loring. He was resentful of her name as -at an intrusion. It typified the pedantry of the conventional -and commonplace.</p> - -<p>The arc lamps died and flared, their shadows leaping -like gnomes in and out of the obscurity. High in the air, -lights punctured the darkness where the hotels loomed. -Beside him on the drive gay turnouts hurried. The roar -of the city came nearer. Arcadia was not even a memory.</p> - -<p>The Pride of the Gallatins was a sorry thing that -night. This Gallatin had bared it frankly, torn away its -rugged coverings, that a woman might see and know -him for what he was—the best and the worst of him. -Even now he did not regret it; for bitter as the retribution -had been, he knew that he had owed her that candor, for -it was a part of the lesson he had learned with Jane—the -other Jane—among the woods. This Jane remembered -not; for she had struck and had not spared him, -and each stinging phrase still pierced and quivered in the -wound that it had made.</p> - -<p>Out of the blackness of his thoughts reason came -slowly. It was her right, of course, to deny him the privileges -of her regard—the rights of fellowship—this he -had deserved and had expected, but the carelessness of -her contempt had been hard to bear. Mockery he had -known in women, and intolerance, but no one of his blood -had ever brooked contempt. His cheeks burned with the -sudden flush of anger and his hand upon his stick grew -rigid. A man might pay for such a thing as that—but a -girl!</p> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_94" id="Page_94">[94]</a></span></p> - -<p>His muscles relaxed and he laughed outright. A snip -of a girl that he’d kissed in the woods, who now came out -dressed in broadcloth and sanctimony! How should it -matter what she thought of him? Absurd little Puritan! -Girls had been kissed before and had lived to be merry -over it. He was a fool to have built this enchanted fabric -into his brain, this castle of Micomicon which swayed and -toppled about his ears. Miss Loring, forsooth!</p> - -<p>He took out his cigarette case in leisurely fashion -and struck a match, and its reflection sparkled gayly in his -eyes. He inhaled deeply and bent his steps toward the -nearest lights beyond the trees.</p> - -<hr class="chap" /> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_95" id="Page_95">[95]</a></span></p> - - - - -<div class="chapter"> -<h2><a name="IX" id="IX">IX</a><br /> -<small>THE LORINGS</small></h2> -</div> - - -<p class="cap">The house of Henry K. Loring, Captain of Industry -and patron saint of one or more great businesses, -was situated on that part of Central Park East -which Colonel Van Duyn called Mammon’s Mile. The -land upon which it was built was more valuable even than -the sands of Pactolus; and the architect, keenly conscious -of his obligations to the earth which supported this last -monument to his genius, had let no opportunity slip by -which would make the building more expensive for its -owner. Column, frieze, capital and entablature, all bore -the tokens of his playful imagination, and the hipped roof -which climbed high above its neighbors, ended in a riot -of finial and coping, as though the architect nearing the -end of his phantasy (and his commission) had crowded -into the few short moments which remained to him all the -ornament that had been forbidden him elsewhere. The -edifice had reached the distinction of notice by the conductors -of the “rubber-neck” busses on the Avenue and -of the reproach of Percy Endicott, whose scurrilous comment -that “it contained all of the fifty-seven varieties” -had now become a by-word down town.</p> - -<p>But the lofty hall and drawing-room of the house -failed to fulfill the dire prediction of its ornate exterior, -for here the architect, as though with a sudden awakening -of the artistic conscience, had developed a simple scheme -in an accepted design which somewhat atoned for his -previous prodigality. A portrait of the master of the<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_96" id="Page_96">[96]</a></span> -house, by an eminent Englishman, hung in the hall, and -in the drawing-room were other paintings of wife and -daughter, by Americans and Frenchmen, almost, if not -equally, eminent. The continent of Europe had been explored -in search of tapestries and ornaments for the -house of this new prince of finance, and evidences of rare -discrimination were apparent at every hand. And yet -with all its splendor, the house lacked an identity and an -ego. It was too sophisticated. Each object of art, -beautiful in itself, spoke of a different taste—a taste -which had been bought and paid for. It was like a -museum which one enters with interest but without emotion. -It was a house without a soul.</p> - -<p>It was toward this splendid mausoleum that the daughter -of the house made her way after her meeting with Mr. -Gallatin in the Park. After one quick look over her -shoulder in the direction from which she had come, she -walked up the driveway hurriedly and rang the bell, entering -the glass vestibule, from which, while she waited for -the door to be opened, she peered furtively forth. A man -in livery took the leashes of the poodles from her hand -and closed the door behind her.</p> - -<p>“Has Mother come in, Hastings?”</p> - -<p>“Yes, Miss Loring. She has been asking for you.”</p> - -<p>Miss Loring climbed the marble stairway that led to -the second floor, but before she reached the landing, a -voice sounded in her ears, a thin voice pitched in a high -key of nervous tension.</p> - -<p>“Jane! Where <em>have</em> you been? Don’t you know -that we’re going to the theatre with the Dorsey-Martin’s -to-night? Madame Thiebout has been waiting for you -for at least an hour. What has kept you so long?”</p> - -<p>“I was walking, Mother,” said the girl. “I have a -headache. I—I’m not going to-night.”</p> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_97" id="Page_97">[97]</a></span></p> - -<p>Mrs. Loring’s hands flew up in horrified protest. -“There!” she cried. “I knew it. If it hadn’t been a -headache, it would have been something else. It’s absurd, -child. Why, we <em>must</em> go. You <em>know</em> how important it -is for us to keep in with the Dorsey-Martins. It’s the -first time they’ve asked us to anything, and it means so -much in every way.”</p> - -<p>Miss Loring by this time had walked toward the door -of her own room, for her mother’s voice when raised, was -easily heard in every part of the big house.</p> - -<p>“I’m not going out to-night, Mother,” she repeated -quietly, shutting the door behind them.</p> - -<p>“Jane,” Mrs. Loring cried petulantly. “Mrs. Dorsey-Martin -is counting on you. She’s asked some people -especially to meet you—the Perrines, the Endicotts, and -Mr. Van Duyn, and you know how much <em>he</em> will be disappointed. -Lie down on the couch for a moment, and -take something for your nerves. You’ll feel better soon, -that’s a dear girl.”</p> - -<p>The unhappy lady put her arm around her daughter’s -waist and led her toward the divan.</p> - -<p>“I knew you would, Jane dear. There. You’ve got -so much good sense——”</p> - -<p>Miss Loring sank listlessly on the couch, her gaze -fixed on the flowered hangings at her windows. Her body -had yielded to her mother’s insistence, but her thoughts -were elsewhere. But as Mrs. Loring moved toward the -bell to call the maid, her daughter stopped her with a -gesture.</p> - -<p>“It isn’t any use, Mother. I’m not going,” she said -wearily.</p> - -<p>The older woman stopped and looked at her daughter -aghast.</p> - -<p>“You really mean it, Jane! You ungrateful girl!<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_98" id="Page_98">[98]</a></span> -I’ve always said that you were eccentric, but you’re -obstinate, too, and self-willed. A headache!” scornfully. -“Why, last year I went to the opera in Mrs. Poultney’s -box when I thought I should <em>die</em> at any moment! I don’t -believe you have a headache. You’re lying to me—hiding -inside yourself the way you always do when I want your -help and sympathy most. I don’t understand you at all. -You’re no daughter of mine. When I’m trying so hard -to give you your proper place in the world, to have you -meet the people who will do us the most good! It’s a -shame, I tell you, to treat me so. Why did I bring you -up with so much care? See that your associates out -home should be what I thought proper for a girl with the -future that your father was making for you? Why did -I take you abroad and give you all the advantages of -European training and culture? Have you taught music -and French and art? For <em>this</em>? To find that your only -pleasure is in books and walks in the Park—and in the -occasional visits of the friends of your youth whom you -should long since have outgrown? It’s an outrage to -treat me so—an outrage!”</p> - -<p>Unable longer to control the violence of her emotions, -the poor woman sank into a chair and burst into tears. -Miss Loring rose slowly and put her arms around her -mother’s shoulders.</p> - -<p>“Don’t, Mother!” she said softly. “You mustn’t -cry about me. I’m not really as bad as you think I am. -I’m not worth bothering about, though. But what does -it matter—this time?”</p> - -<p>“It—it’s always—this time,” she wept.</p> - -<p>“No—I’ll go anywhere you like, but not to-night. -I <em>do</em> feel badly. I <em>really</em> do. I—I’m not quite up to -seeing a lot of people. Don’t cry, dear. You know it -will make your eyes red.”</p> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_99" id="Page_99">[99]</a></span></p> - -<p>Mrs. Loring set up quickly and touched her eyes with -her handkerchief.</p> - -<p>“Yes, yes; I know it does. I don’t see how you can -hurt me so. I suppose my complexion is ruined and I’ll -look like an old hag. It’s a pity! Just after Thiebout -had taken such pains with me, too.”</p> - -<p>“Oh, no, Mother, you’re all right. You always did -look younger than I do—and besides you light up so, at -night.”</p> - -<p>Mrs. Loring rose and examined her face in a mirror. -“Oh, well! I suppose I’ll have to go without you. But -I won’t forget it, Jane. It does really seem as though -the older I get the less my wishes are considered. But I’ll -do my duty as I see it, in spite of you. Do you suppose -I had your father build this house just for me to sit in -and look out of the windows at the passersby? Not I. -Until we came to New York I spent all of my life looking -at the gay world out of windows. I’m tired of playing -second-fiddle.”</p> - -<p>Jane Loring stood before her mother and touched her -timidly on the arm. The physical resemblance between -them was strong, and it was easily seen where the daughter -got her beauty. Mrs. Loring had reached middle life -very prettily, and at a single impression it was difficult -to tell whether she was nearer thirty-three or fifty-three. -Her skin was of that satiny quality which wrinkles depress -but do not sear. Her nose was slightly aquiline like her -daughter’s, but the years had thinned her lips and sharpened -her chin, the lines at her mouth were querulous rather -than severe, and when her face was placid, her forehead -was as smooth as that of her daughter. She was not a -woman who had ever suffered deeply, or who ever would, -and the petty annoyances which add small wrinkles to the -faces of women of her years had left no marks whatever.<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_100" id="Page_100">[100]</a></span> -But since the family had been in New York Jane had -noticed new lines between her brows as though her eyes, -like those of a person traveling upon an unfamiliar road, -were trying for a more concentrated and narrow vision; -and as she turned from the mirror toward the light, it -seemed to Jane that she had grown suddenly old.</p> - -<p>“Mother, dear, you mustn’t let trifles disturb you so. -It will age you frightfully! You know how people are -always saying that you look younger than I do. I don’t -want to worry you. I’ll do whatever you like, go wherever -you like, but not to-night——”</p> - -<p>“What is the matter, Jane? Has anything happened?”</p> - -<p>“Oh, no, I—I don’t feel very well. It’s nothing at -all. I’ll be all right to-morrow. But you must go without -me. There’s to be supper afterward, isn’t there?”</p> - -<p>“Oh, yes.” And then despairingly: “You always -have your own way, in the end.”</p> - -<p>She kissed the girl coldly on the brow and turned toward -the door.</p> - -<p>“You must hurry now,” said Jane. “Mr. Van Duyn -will be coming soon, and dinner is early. Good night, -dear. I won’t be down to-night. I think I’ll lie down -for awhile.”</p> - -<p>Mrs. Loring turned one more helpless look in Jane’s -direction and then went out of the room.</p> - -<p>When the door had closed, Jane Loring turned the -key in the lock, then sank at full length on the couch, and -seemed to be asleep; but her head, though supported by -her arms, was rigid and her eyes, wide open, were staring -at vacancy. In the hall outside she heard the fall of -footsteps, the whisper of servants and the commotion of -her mother’s descent to dinner. A hurdy-gurdy around -the corner droned a popular air, a distant trolley-bell<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_101" id="Page_101">[101]</a></span> -clanged and an automobile, exhaust open, dashed by the -house. These sounds were all familiar here, and yet she -heard them all; for they helped to silence the echoes of a -voice that still persisted in her ears, a low sonorous voice, -whose tones rose and fell like the sighing of Kee-way-din -in the pine-trees of the frozen North. Her thoughts flew -to that distant spot among the trees, and she saw the -shimmer of the leaves in the morning sunlight, heard the -call of the birds and the whispering of the stream. It -was cold up there now, so bleak and cold. By this time -a white brush had painted out the glowing canvas of -summer and left no sign of what was beneath. And yet -somewhere hidden there, as in her heart, beneath that chill -mantle was the dust of a fire—the gray cinders, the ashes -of a dead faith, and Kee-way-din moaned above them.</p> - -<p>A tiny clock upon the mantle chimed the hour. Miss -Loring moved stiffly, and sat suddenly upright. She got -up at last and putting on a loose robe, went to her dressing -table, her chin high, her eye gleaming coldly at the -pale reflection there. The blood of the Gallatins! Did he -think the magic of his name could make her forget the -brute in him, the beast in him, that kissed and spoke of -love while the thin blood of the Gallatins seethed in its -poison? What had the blood of the Gallatins to do with -her? Honor, virtue, truth? He had spoken of these. -What right had he to use them to one who had an indelible -record of his infamy? His kisses were hot on her -mouth even now—kisses that desecrated, that profaned -the words he uttered. Those kisses! The memory of -them stifled her. She brushed her bare arm furiously -across her lips as she had done a hundred times before. -Lying kisses, traitorous kisses, scourging kisses, between -which he had dared to speak of love! If he had not done -that, she might even have forgiven him the physical contact<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_102" id="Page_102">[102]</a></span> -that had defamed her womanhood. And yet to-night -he had spoken those same words again, repeated them with -a show of warmth, that his depravity might have some -palliation and excuse. He could, it seemed, be as insolent -as he was brutal.</p> - -<p>Determined to think of him no more, she rang for her -maid and ordered dinner. Then, book in hand, she went -down stairs. Mr. Van Duyn, she was relieved to think, -had departed with Mrs. Loring, and she smiled almost -gaily at the thought that this evening at least was her -own. As she passed into the library, she saw that a -bright light was burning in her father’s study, and she -peeped in at the door.</p> - -<p>It was not a large room, the smallest one, in fact, upon -the lower floor, but unlike most of the other rooms, it had -a distinct personality. The furniture—chairs, desks, and -bookcases—was massive, almost too heavy to make for -architectural accordance, and this defect was made more -conspicuous by the delicacy and minuteness of the ornaments. -There were two glass cases on a heavy table -filled with the most exquisite ivories, most of them Japanese, -an Ormolu case with a glass top enclosing snuff-boxes -and miniatures. Three Tanagra figures graced one -bookcase and upon another were several microscopes of -different sizes. The pictures on the walls, each of them -furnished with a light-reflector, were small with elaborately -carved gold frames—a few of them landscapes, but -most of them “genre” paintings, with many small figures.</p> - -<p>Before one discovered the owner of this room one -would have decided at once that he must be smallish, -slender, with stooping shoulders, gold-rimmed eye-glasses, -a jeweled watch-fob and, perhaps, a squint; and the massive -appearance of the present occupant would have -occasioned more than a slight shock of surprise. When<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_103" id="Page_103">[103]</a></span> -Jane looked in, Henry K. Loring sat on the very edge of -a wide arm chair, with a magnifying glass in his hand -carefully examining a small oil painting which was -propped up under a reading light on another chair in -front of him. People who knew him only in his business -capacity might have been surprised at his quiet and critical -delight in this studious occupation, for down town -he was best known by a brisk and summary manner, a -belligerent presence and a strident voice which smacked -of the open air. His bull-like neck was set deep in his -wide shoulders as his keen eyes peered under their bushy -eyebrows at the object in front of him. He was so -absorbed that he did not hear the light patter of his -daughter’s footsteps, and did not move until he heard the -sound of her voice.</p> - -<p>“Well, Daddy!” she said in surprise. “What are -you doing here?”</p> - -<p>His round head turned slowly as though on a pivot.</p> - -<p>“Hello, Jane! Feeling better?” He raised his chin -and winked one eye expressively.</p> - -<p>“I thought you were going—with Mother,” said Miss -Loring.</p> - -<p>“Lord, no! You know I—” and he laughed. “<em>I</em> had -a headache, too.”</p> - -<p>The girl smiled guiltily, but she came over and sat -upon the arm of the chair, and laid her hand along her -father’s shoulder.</p> - -<p>“Another picture! Oh, Daddy, such extravagance! -Aren’t you ashamed of yourself? So <em>that’s</em> why you -stole away from the Dorsey-Martin’s——”</p> - -<p>“It’s another Verbeckhoeven, Jane,” he chuckled delightedly. -“A perfect wonder! The best he ever did, -I’m sure! Come, sit down here and look at it.”</p> - -<p>Jane sank to the floor in front of the painting and<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_104" id="Page_104">[104]</a></span> -reached for the enlarging glass. But he held it away -from her.</p> - -<p>“No, no,” he insisted. “Wait, first tell me how -many things you can see with the naked eye.”</p> - -<p>“A horse, a cow, a man lying on the grass, trees, -distant haystacks and a windmill,” she said slowly.</p> - -<p>“And is that all?” he laughed.</p> - -<p>“No, a saddle on the ground, a rooster on the fence—yes—and -some sheep at the foot of the hill.”</p> - -<p>“Nothing more?”</p> - -<p>“No, I don’t think so—except the buckles on the -harness and the birds flying near the pigeon-cote.”</p> - -<p>“Yes—yes—is that all?”</p> - -<p>“Yes, I’m sure it is.”</p> - -<p>“You’re blind as a bat, girl,” he roared delightedly. -“Look through this and see!” and he handed her the -glass. “Buckles on the horses! Examine it! Don’t you -see the pack thread it’s sewed with? And the saddle gall -on the horse’s back? And the crack in the left fore-hoof? -Did you ever see anything more wonderful? Now -look into the distance and tell me what else.”</p> - -<p>“Haymakers,” gasped Miss Loring. “Two women, -a man and—and, yes, a child. I couldn’t see them at all. -There’s a rake and pitch fork, too——”</p> - -<p>“And beyond?”</p> - -<p>“Dykes and the sails of ships—a town and a tower -with a cupola!”</p> - -<p>“Splendid! And that’s only half. I’ve been looking -at it for an hour and haven’t found everything yet. I’ll -show them to you—see——”</p> - -<p>And one by one he proudly revealed his latest discoveries. -His passion for the minute almost amounted to -an obsession, and the appearance of his large bulk poring -over some delicate object of art was no unfamiliar one to<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_105" id="Page_105">[105]</a></span> -Jane, but she always humored him, because she knew that, -although he was proud of his great house, here was the -real interest that he found in it. His business enthralled -him, but it made him merciless, too, and in this harmless -hobby his daughter had discovered a humanizing influence -which she welcomed and encouraged. It gave them -points of contact from which Mrs. Loring was far removed, -and Jane was always the first person in the household -to share the delights of his latest acquisitions. But -to-night she was sure that her duty demanded a mild -reproof.</p> - -<p>“It’s an astonishing picture, Daddy, but I’m sure -we’ve both treated Mother very badly. You know you -promised her——”</p> - -<p>“So did you——”</p> - -<p>“But I—I felt very badly.”</p> - -<p>“So did I,” he chuckled, “very badly.” He put his -arm around his daughter’s shoulders and drew her closer -against his knees. “Oh, Jane, what’s the use? Life’s -too short to do a lot of things you don’t want to do. -Your mother likes to go around. Let her buzz, she -likes it.”</p> - -<p>“Perhaps she does,” Jane reproved him. “But then -you and I have our duty.”</p> - -<p>“Don’t let that worry you, child. I do my duty—but -I do it in a different way. Your mother stalks her -game in its native wild. I don’t. I wait by the water -hole until it comes to drink, and then I kill it.”</p> - -<p>“But people here must have some assurance that new -families are acceptable——”</p> - -<p>“Don’t worry about that, either. We’ll do, I guess. -And when I want to go anywhere, or want my family to -go anywhere, I ask, that’s all. The women don’t run -New York society. They only think they do. If there’s<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_106" id="Page_106">[106]</a></span> -any house you want to go to or any people you want to -come to see us, you tell <em>me</em> about it. There’s more than -one way to skin a cat, but my way is the quickest. I’m -not going to have you hanging on the outer fringe. You -can be the jewel and the ornament of the year. Even -Mrs. Suydam will take you under her wing, if you want -her to.”</p> - -<p>“But I don’t want to be under any one’s wing. I -might turn out to be the ugly duckling.”</p> - -<p>He pressed her fondly in his great arms. “You are—a -duckling—it’s a pity you’re so ugly.” He laughed at his -joke and broke off and seized the glass from her fingers.</p> - -<p>“Jane,” he cried, “you didn’t find the woman inside -the farmhouse! And the jug on the bench beside——”</p> - -<p>But Miss Loring’s thoughts were elsewhere.</p> - -<p>“Daddy, I don’t want people to come to see me, -unless I like them,” she went on slowly, “and I don’t -want to go to peoples’ houses just because they’re fashionable -houses. I want to choose my friends for myself.”</p> - -<p>“You shall!” he muttered, laying down his glass -with a sigh and putting his arm around her again. And -then with a lowered voice, “You haven’t seen anybody -you—you really like yet, daughter, have you?”</p> - -<p>“No,” said Miss Loring, with a positiveness which -startled him. “No one—not a soul.”</p> - -<p>“Not Coleman Van Duyn——”</p> - -<p>“Daddy!” she cried. “Of course not!”</p> - -<p>“And no one else?”</p> - -<p>“No one else.”</p> - -<p>He grunted comfortably. “I’m glad of that. I -haven’t seen anybody good enough for you yet. I’m glad -it’s not Van Duyn—or young Sackett. I thought, perhaps, -you had,” he finished.</p> - -<p>“Why?”</p> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_107" id="Page_107">[107]</a></span></p> - -<p>“You’ve been so quiet lately.”</p> - -<p>“Have I?” she smiled into the fire. “I didn’t know -it.”</p> - -<p>“Don’t you let people worry you, and don’t take this -society game too seriously. It’s only a game, and a poor -one at that. It’s only meant for old fools who want to -be young and young fools who want to be old. Those -people don’t play it just for the fun of the thing—to -them it’s a business, and they work at it harder than a -lot of galley-slaves. You’ve got to try it, of course, I -believe in trying everything, but don’t you let it get you -twisted—the ball-room, with its lights, its flowers and -its pretty speeches. They’re all part of the machinery. -The fellow you’re going to marry won’t be there, Jane. -He’s too busy.”</p> - -<p>“Who do you mean?”</p> - -<p>“Oh, nobody in particular,” he snorted. “But I -don’t believe you’ll ever marry a carpet-knight. You -won’t if I can stop you, at any rate.” He had taken out -a cigar and snipped the end of it carefully with a pocket-knife. -“They’re a new kind of animal to me, these young -fellows about town,” he said between puffs. “Beside a -man, they’re what the toy pug is to the bulldog or the -Pomeranian is to the ‘husky.’ Fine dogs they are,” he -sniffed, “bred to the boudoir and the drawing-room!”</p> - -<p>“But some of them are very nice, Daddy,” said Jane. -“You <em>know</em> you liked Dirwell De Lancey and William -Worthington.”</p> - -<p>“Oh, they’re the harmless kind, playful and amusing!” -he sneered. “But they’re only harmless because -they haven’t sense enough to be anything else. You’ll -meet the other kind, Jane, the loafers and the drunkards.”</p> - -<p>Miss Loring leaned quickly forward away from him, -her elbows on her knees, and looked into the fire.</p> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_108" id="Page_108">[108]</a></span></p> - -<p>“I suppose so,” she said quietly.</p> - -<p>“It’s the work of the social system, Jane. Most of -these old families are playing a losing game, their blood -is diluted and impoverished, but they still cling to their -ropes of sand. They marry their children to <em>our</em> children, -but God knows that won’t help ’em. It isn’t money they -need. Money can’t make new gristle and cartilage. Money -can’t buy new fiber.”</p> - -<p>The girl changed her position slightly. “I suppose -it’s all true, but it seems a pity that the sons should -suffer for the sins of the fathers.”</p> - -<p>“It’s written so—unto the third and fourth generation, -Jane.”</p> - -<p>“But the sons—they have no chance—no chance at -all?”</p> - -<p>“Only what they can save out of the wreck. Take -young Perrine or young Gallatin, for instance. <em>There’s</em> -a case in point. His people have all been rich and talented. -They’ve helped to make history, but they’ve all had the -same taint. Year by year they’ve seen their fortunes -diminish, but couldn’t stem the tide against them. But -now the last of the line is content just to exist on the -fag-end of what’s left him. He’s clever, too, they say—went -into the law, as his father did, but——”</p> - -<p>“Oh, Daddy, it’s unjust—cruel!” Jane Loring broke -in suddenly.</p> - -<p>“What is?”</p> - -<p>“Heredity——”</p> - -<p>“It’s the law! I feel sorry for that young fellow. -I like him, but I’d rather see you dead at my feet than -married to him.”</p> - -<p>Miss Loring did not move, but the hands around her -knee clasped each other more tightly.</p> - -<p>“I don’t know—I’ve never been introduced to Mr. -Gallatin,” she said quietly.</p> - -<hr class="chap" /> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_109" id="Page_109">[109]</a></span></p> - - - - -<div class="chapter"> -<h2><a name="X" id="X">X</a><br /> -<small>MR. VAN DUYN RIDES FORTH</small></h2> -</div> - - -<p class="cap">Mr. Coleman Van Duyn lurched heavily up -the wide steps that led to the main corridor -of the Potowomac apartments and took the -elevator upstairs. He asked for mail and sat down at the -desk in his library with a frowning brow and protruding -jowl. Affairs down town had not turned out to his liking -this morning. For a month everything seemed to have -gone wrong. He was short on stocks that had struck -the trade-winds, and long on others that were hung in -the doldrums; his luck at Auction had deserted him; his -latest doctor had made a change in his regimen; a -favorite horse had broken a leg; and last, but not by any -means the least, until this afternoon Fate had continued -to conspire to keep him apart from Miss Jane Loring.</p> - -<p>They had met casually several times at people’s houses -and once he had talked with her at the Suydam’s, but the -opportunities for which he planned obstinately refused -to present themselves. He had finally succeeded in persuading -her to ride with him to-day, and after writing a -note or two, he called his man and dressed with particular -care. Mr. Van Duyn’s mind was so constructed that -he could never think of more than one thing at a time; -but of that one thing he always thought with every dull -fiber of his brain, and Miss Loring’s indifference to his -honorable intentions had preyed upon him to the detriment -of other and, perhaps, equally important interests.</p> - -<p>Mr. Van Duyn was large of body and ponderous of<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_110" id="Page_110">[110]</a></span> -thought, and his decisions were only born after a prolonged -and somewhat uncertain period of gestation. It -took him an hour to order his dinner, and at least two -hours to eat (and drink) it. And so when at the age of -five and thirty he had reached the conclusion that it was -time for him to marry, he had set about carrying his -resolution into effect with the same solemn deliberation -which characterized every other act of his life. He had -been accustomed always to have things happen exactly -as he planned them, and was of the opinion, when he -followed the Lorings to Canada, that nothing lacked in -the proposed alliance to make it eminently desirable for -both of the parties concerned. Matches he knew were no -longer made in Heaven and an opportunist like Henry K. -Loring could not long debate upon the excellence of the -arrangement.</p> - -<p>Miss Loring’s refusal of him up at camp, last summer, -had shocked him, and for awhile he had not been able to -believe the evidence of his ears, for Mrs. Loring had given -him to understand that to her at least he was a particularly -desirable suitor. When he recovered from his shock -of amazement, his feeling was one of anger, and his first -impulse to leave the Loring camp at once. But after a -night of thought he changed his mind. He found in the -morning that Miss Loring’s refusal had had the curious -effect of making her more desirable, more desirable, indeed, -than any young female person he had ever met. He was -in love with her, in fact, and all other reasons for wanting -to marry her now paled beside the important fact that -she was essential to his well being, his mental health and -happiness. He did not even think of her great wealth -as he had at first done, of the fortune she would bring -which would aid materially in providing the sort of an -establishment a married Van Duyn must maintain. In<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_111" id="Page_111">[111]</a></span> -his cumbrous way he had decided that even had she been -penniless, she would have been necessary to him just the -same.</p> - -<p>He had stayed on at camp, accepting Mrs. Loring’s -advice that it would not be wise to take her refusal seriously. -She was only a child and could not know the meaning -of the honor he intended to confer. But in New York -her indifference continued to prick his self-esteem, and for -several weeks he had been following her about, sending her -flowers and losing no chance to keep his memory green.</p> - -<p>And so, he examined his shiny boots with a narrowing -and critical eye, donned a favorite pink silk shirt and -tied on a white stock into which he stuck a fox-head pin. -He had put on more flesh in the last three years than he -needed, and his collar bands were getting too tight; but -as he looked in the mirror of his dressing-stand, he was -willing to admit that he was still the fine figure of a -man—a Van Duyn every inch of him. It was in the midst -of this agreeable occupation that Mr. Worthington entered, -a corn-flower in his buttonhole and otherwise arrayed -for conquest. Van Duyn looked over his shoulder -and nodded a platonic greeting.</p> - -<p>“Tea-ing it, Bibby?”</p> - -<p>“Oh, yes. Might as well do that as sit somewhere. -Just stopped in on my way down.” Worthington’s apartment -was above. And then, “Lord Coley, you <em>are</em> filling -out! Riding?”</p> - -<p>“No,” grinned the other, “going to pick strawberries -on the Metropolitan Tower. Don’t I look like it?”</p> - -<p>Worthington smiled. Van Duyn’s playfulness always -much resembled that of a young St. Bernard puppy.</p> - -<p>“I thought you’d given it up. Her name, please.”</p> - -<p>Mr. Van Duyn refused to reply.</p> - -<p>“It’s the Loring girl, isn’t it?” Worthington queried<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_112" id="Page_112">[112]</a></span> -cheerfully. “I thought so. You lucky devil!” He -touched the tips of two fingers and thumb to his lips, and -with eyes heavenward laid them upon his heart. “She’s -an angel, a blue-eyed angel, fresh from the rosy aura -of a cherubim. Oh, Coley, what the devil can she see in -you?”</p> - -<p>“Don’t be an ass, Bibby,” Van Duyn grunted wrathfully.</p> - -<p>“I’m not an ass. I’m in love, you amatory Behemoth, -in love as I’ve never been before—with an angel fresh -from Elysium.”</p> - -<p>“Meaning Miss Jane Loring?”</p> - -<p>“Who else? There’s no one else,” dolefully. “There -never has been any one else—there never will be any one -else. You’re in love with her, too; aren’t you, Coley?”</p> - -<p>“Well, of all the impudence!”</p> - -<p>“Nonsense. I’m only living up to the traditions of -our ancient friendship. I’m giving you a fair warning. -I intend to marry the lady myself.”</p> - -<p>The visitor had lit a cigarette and was calmly helping -himself to whisky. Van Duyn threw back his head and -roared with laughter.</p> - -<p>“You! Good joke. Haw! You’ve got as many -lives as a cat, Bibby. Been blowing out your brains every -season for fifteen years.” He struggled into his coat and -squared himself before the mirror. “Wasting your time,” -he finished dryly.</p> - -<p>“Meaning that <em>you</em> are the chosen one? Oh, I say, -Coley, don’t make me laugh. You’ll spoil the set of my -cravat. You know, I couldn’t care for her if I thought -her taste was as bad as that. Not engaged are you?”</p> - -<p>“Oh, drop it,” said the other. “Remarks are personal. -Miss Loring is fine girl. Fellow gets her will be -lucky.” He had poured himself a drink, but paused in the<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_113" id="Page_113">[113]</a></span> -act of taking it, and asked, “Haven’t seen Gallatin lately, -have you?”</p> - -<p>“No—nobody has—since that night at the Club. -He’d been sitting tight—and God knows that’s no joke! -Good Lord, but he did fall off with a thud! Been on -the wagon six months, too. He ought to let it alone.”</p> - -<p>“He can’t,” said Van Duyn grimly.</p> - -<p>“Well, six months is a good while—for Phil—but he -stuck it out like a little man.” And then ruminatively, -“I wonder what made him begin again. He’d been refusing -all the afternoon. Came in later with his jaw set—white -and somber—you know—and started right in. It’s -a great pity! I’d like to have a talk with Phil. I’m fond -of that boy. But he’s so touchy. Great Scott! I tried -it once, and I’ll never forget the look he gave me. Never -again! I’d as leave try a curtain lecture on a Bengal -tiger.”</p> - -<p>“What’s the use? We’ve got troubles of our own.”</p> - -<p>“Not like his, Coley. With me it’s a diversion, with -you it’s an appetite, with Phil it’s a disease. That’s why -he went to Canada this summer. By the way, you were in -the woods with the Lorings, of course you heard about -that girl that Phil met up there?”</p> - -<p>“No,” growled the other.</p> - -<p>“Seems to be a mystery. Percy Endicott says——”</p> - -<p>Van Duyn set his glass on the table with a crash that -broke it, then rose with an oath.</p> - -<p>“Think I’m going to listen to <em>that</em> rubbish?” he -muttered. “Who cares what happened to Gallatin? <em>I</em> -don’t, for one. As for Percy, he’s a lyin’, little gossipin’ -Pharisee. I don’t believe there <em>was</em> any girl——”</p> - -<p>“But Gallatin admits it.”</p> - -<p>“D—— Gallatin!” he roared.</p> - -<p>Worthington looked up in surprise, but rose and<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_114" id="Page_114">[114]</a></span> -kicked his trousers legs into their immaculate creases.</p> - -<p>“Oh, if you feel that way about it—” He took up his -silk hat and brushed it with his coat sleeve. “I think I’ll -be toddling along.”</p> - -<p>“Oh, don’t get peevish, Bibby. You like Phil Gallatin. -Well, I don’t. Always too d—— starchy for me -anyway.” He paused at the table in the library while he -filled his cigarette case from a silver box. Then he -examined Worthington’s face. “You didn’t hear the -girl’s name mentioned, did you?” he asked carelessly.</p> - -<p>“Oh, no, even Gallatin didn’t know it.” Worthington -had put on his hat and was making for the door. “Of -course it doesn’t matter anyway.”</p> - -<p>Van Duyn followed, his man helping them into their -overcoats.</p> - -<p>“Can’t drop you anywhere, can I, Bibby? I’ve got -the machine below.”</p> - -<p>“No, thanks. I’ll walk.”</p> - -<p>On the ride uptown Coleman Van Duyn glowered moodily -out at the winter sunlight. He had heard enough of this -story they were telling about Phil Gallatin and the -mysterious girl in the woods. He alone knew that the -main facts were true, because he had had incontestible -evidence that the mysterious girl was Jane Loring. All -the circumstances as related exactly tallied with his own -information received from the two guides who had brought -her into Loring’s camp. And in spite of his knowledge -of Jane’s character, the coarse embroidery that gossip -was adding to the tale had left a distinctly disagreeable -impression. Jane Loring had spent the better part of -a week alone with Phil Gallatin in the heart of the Canadian -wilderness. Van Duyn did not like Gallatin. They -had known each other for years, and an appearance of fellowship -existed between them, but in all tastes save one<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_115" id="Page_115">[115]</a></span> -they had nothing in common. He and Gallatin had locked -horns once before on a trifling matter, and the fact that -the girl Van Duyn intended to marry had been thrown -upon the mercies of a man of Gallatin’s stamp was gall -and wormwood to him. But when he thought of Jane he -cursed the gossips in his heart for a lot of meddlers and -scandal-mongers. If he knew anything of human nature—and -like most heavy deliberate men, he believed his -judgment to be infallible, Jane was the blue-eyed angel -Mr. Worthington had so aptly described, “fresh from -the rosy aura of a cherubim.” But there were many -things to be explained. One of the guides that had found -her had dropped a hint that it was no guide’s camp -that she had visited in the woods, as she had told them -at camp. And why, if she had been well cared for -there, had she fled? What relations existed between -Jane Loring and Phil Gallatin that made it necessary -for her to hide the fact of his existence? What had -Gallatin done that she should wish to escape him? Van -Duyn’s turgid blood seethed darkly in his veins. Gallatin -had acknowledged the main facts of the story. Why -hadn’t he told it all, as any other man would have done -without making all this mystery about it? Or why hadn’t -he denied it entirely instead of leaving a loophole for the -gossip? Why hadn’t he lied, as any other man would -have done, like a gentleman? Only he, Van Duyn, had -an inkling of the facts, and yet his lips were sealed. He -had had to sit calmly and listen while the story was told -in his presence at the club, while his fingers were aching -to throttle the man who was repeating it. Phil Gallatin! -D—— him!</p> - -<p>It was, therefore, in no very pleasant frame of mind -that Van Duyn got down at Miss Loring’s door. The -horses were already at the carriage drive and Miss<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_116" id="Page_116">[116]</a></span> -Loring came down at once. Mr. Van Duyn helped her -into the saddle, and in a few moments they were in the -Park walking their horses carefully until they reached -the nearest bridle path, when they swung into a canter. -Miss Loring had noted the preoccupation of her companion, -and after one or two efforts at cheerful commonplace, -had subsided, only too glad to enjoy in silence the -glory of the afternoon sunlight. But presently when -the horses were winded, she pulled her own animal into -a walk and Van Duyn quickly imitated her example.</p> - -<p>“Oh, I’m so glad I came, Coley,” she said genuinely, -with mounting color and sparkling eyes.</p> - -<p>“Are you?” he panted, Jane’s optimism at last defeating -his megrims. “Bully, isn’t it? Ever hunted?”</p> - -<p>“Yes, one season at Pau.”</p> - -<p>“Jolly set, hunting set. Jolliest in New York.”</p> - -<p>“Yes, I know some of them—Mr. Kane, Mr. Spencer, -Miss Jaffray, the Rawsons and the Penningtons. <em>They</em> -wouldn’t do <em>this</em>, though; they turn up their noses at -Park riding. Aren’t you hunting this year?”</p> - -<p>“No,” he grunted. “Life’s too short.” He might -also have added that he wasn’t up to the work, but he -didn’t. Jane noticed the drop in his voice and examined -him curiously.</p> - -<p>“You don’t seem very happy to-day, Coley.”</p> - -<p>“Any reason you can think of why I should be?” he -muttered.</p> - -<p>“Thousands,” she laughed, purposely oblivious. “The -joy of living——”</p> - -<p>“Oh, rot, Jane!”</p> - -<p>“Coley! You’re not polite!”</p> - -<p>“Oh, you know what I mean well enough,” he insisted -sulkily.</p> - -<p>“Do I? Please explain.”</p> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_117" id="Page_117">[117]</a></span></p> - -<p>“Don’t you know, this is the first time I’ve been with -you alone—since the woods?” he stammered.</p> - -<p>Jane laughed.</p> - -<p>“I’m sorry I have such a bad effect on you. <em>You</em> -asked me to come, you know.”</p> - -<p>“Oh, don’t tease a chap so. What’s the use? Been -tryin’ to see you for weeks. You’ve been avoidin’ me, -Jane. What I want to know is—why?”</p> - -<p>“I don’t want to avoid you. If I did, I shouldn’t be -with you to-day, should I?”</p> - -<p>There seemed to be no reply to that and Van Duyn’s -frown only deepened.</p> - -<p>“I thought we were goin’ to be friends,” he went on -slowly. “We had a quarrel up at camp, but I thought -we’d straightened that out. You forgave me, didn’t -you?”</p> - -<p>“Oh, yes. I couldn’t very well do anything else. But -you’ll have to admit I’d never done anything to warrant——”</p> - -<p>“I was a fool. Sorry for what I did, too. When -you got back I told you so. I’m a fool still, but I’ve got -sense enough to be patient. Pretty rough, though, the -way you treat me. Thinkin’ about you most of the time—all -upset—don’t sleep the way I ought—things don’t -taste right. I’m in love with you, Jane——”</p> - -<p>“I thought you had promised not to speak of that -again,” she put in with lowered voice.</p> - -<p>“Oh, hang it! I’ve got to speak of it,” he growled. -“When a fellow wants to marry a girl, he can’t stay in -the background and see other fellows payin’ her attention—hear -stories of——”</p> - -<p>Jane looked up, her eyes questioning sharply and -Coleman Van Duyn stopped short. He had not meant -to go so far.</p> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_118" id="Page_118">[118]</a></span></p> - -<p>“Stories about <em>me</em>?”</p> - -<p>He wouldn’t reply, and only glowered at his horse’s -ears.</p> - -<p>“What story have you heard about me, Coley?” she -asked quietly.</p> - -<p>“Oh, nothing,” he mumbled. “It wasn’t about you,” -he finished lamely.</p> - -<p>“It’s something that concerns me then. You’ve made -that clear. You must tell me—at once,” she said decisively.</p> - -<p>Van Duyn glanced at her and dropped his gaze, aware -for the second time that this girl’s spirit when it rose -was too strong for him. And yet there was an anxiety -in her curiosity, too, which gave him a sense of mastery.</p> - -<p>“Oh, just gossip,” he said cautiously. “Everybody -gets his share of it, you know.” Then he laughed aloud, -rather too noisily, so that she wasn’t deceived.</p> - -<p>“It’s something I have a right to know, of course. It -must be unpleasant or you wouldn’t have thought of it -again. You must tell me, Coley.”</p> - -<p>“What difference does it make?”</p> - -<p>“None. But I mean to hear it just the same.”</p> - -<p>“Oh!” He saw that her face was set in resolute -lines, so he looked away, his lids narrowing, while he -thought of a plan which might turn his information to -his own advantage.</p> - -<p>“It isn’t about you at all,” he said slowly, sparring -for time.</p> - -<p>“Then why did you think of it?” She had him cornered -now and he knew it, so he fought back sullenly, -looking anywhere but at her.</p> - -<p>“You haven’t given me a fair show, Jane. Up in -camp we got to be pretty good pals until—until you -found out I wanted to marry you. Even then you said<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_119" id="Page_119">[119]</a></span> -there wasn’t any reason why we shouldn’t be friends. I -lost my head that morning and made a fool of myself -and you ran away and got lost. When the guides brought -you back you were different, utterly changed. Something -had happened. You wouldn’t have been so rotten to me, -just because—because of that. Besides you forgave me. -Didn’t I acknowledge it? And haven’t I done the square -thing, let you alone, watched you from a distance, almost -as if I didn’t even know you? I tell you, Jane——”</p> - -<p>“What has this to do with——”</p> - -<p>“Wait,” he said, his eyes now searching hers, his -color deepening as he gathered courage, while Jane Loring -listened, conscious that her companion’s intrusiveness -and brutality were dragging her pride in the dust. “You -went off into the woods and stayed five days. You told -us when you got back to camp that you’d been found by -an Indian guide and that you hadn’t been able to find the -trail—and all that sort of thing. Everybody believed -you. We were all too glad to get you back. What I -want to know is why you told that story? What was -your reason for keeping back——”</p> - -<p>“It was true—” she stammered, but his keen eyes -saw that her face was blanching and her emotion infuriated -him.</p> - -<p>“All except that the Indian guide was Phil Gallatin,” -he said brutally.</p> - -<p>The hands that held the reins jerked involuntarily -and her horse reared and swerved away, but in a moment -she had steadied him; and when Van Duyn drew alongside -of her, she was still very pale but quite composed.</p> - -<p>“How do you know that?” she asked in a voice the -tones of which she still struggled to control.</p> - -<p>He waited a long moment, the frown gathering more<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_120" id="Page_120">[120]</a></span> -darkly. He had still hoped, it seemed, that she might -deny it.</p> - -<p>“Oh, I know it, all right,” he muttered, glowering.</p> - -<p>Her laughter rather surprised him. “Your keenness -does you credit,” she continued. “I met a stranger in -the woods and stayed at his camp. There’s nothing -extraordinary in that——”</p> - -<p>“No,” he interrupted quickly. “Not in that. The -extraordinary thing is that you should have——” he -hesitated.</p> - -<p>“Lied about it?” she suggested calmly. “Oh, I don’t -think we need discuss that. I’m not in the habit of talking -over my personal affairs.”</p> - -<p>Her indifference inflamed him further and his eyes -gleamed maliciously.</p> - -<p>“It’s a pity Gallatin hasn’t a similar code.”</p> - -<p>Her eyes opened wide. “What—do—you—mean?” -she asked haltingly.</p> - -<p>“That Gallatin is telling of the adventure himself,” -he said with a bold laugh.</p> - -<p>“He is telling—of—the—adventure—” she repeated, -and then paused, her horrified eyes peering straight ahead -of her. “Oh, how odious of him—how odious! There is -nothing to tell—Coley—absolutely nothing—” And then -as a new thought even more horrible than those that had -gone before crossed her mind, “What are they saying? -Has he—has he spoken my name? Tell me. I can’t believe -<em>that</em> of him—not that!”</p> - -<p>Van Duyn was not sure that the emotion which he felt -was pity for her or pity for himself, but he looked away, -his face reddening uncomfortably, and when he spoke his -voice was lowered.</p> - -<p>“I heard the story,” he said with crafty deliberateness, -“at the Club. I got up and left the room.”</p> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_121" id="Page_121">[121]</a></span></p> - -<p>“Was—was Mr. Gallatin there?”</p> - -<p>“No—not there?” he muttered. “He came in as I -left. You know it wouldn’t have been possible for me to -stay.”</p> - -<p>“What are they saying, Coley?” she gasped, seeking -in one breath to plumb the whole depth of her humiliation. -“You must tell me. Do you mean that they’re -saying—that—that Mr. Gallatin and I—were—?” she -couldn’t finish, and he made no effort to help her, for her -troubled face and every word that she uttered went further -to confirm his suspicions and increase his misery.</p> - -<p>“Do <em>you</em> believe that?” she whispered again. “Do -you?” And then, as he refused to turn his head or -reply, “Oh, how dreadful of you!”</p> - -<p>She put spurs to her horse and before he was well -aware of it was vanishing among the trees. His animal -was unequal to the task he set for it, for he lost sight of -her, found her again in the distance and thundered after, -breathing heavily and perspiring at every pore, hating -himself for his suspicions, and filled with terror at the -thought of losing her. Never had he been so mad for the -possession of her as now, and floundered helplessly on like -an untrained dog in pursuit of a wounded bird. But he -couldn’t catch up with her. And when, later, he stopped -at the Loring house, she refused to see him.</p> - -<hr class="chap" /> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_122" id="Page_122">[122]</a></span></p> - - - - -<div class="chapter"> -<h2><a name="XI" id="XI">XI</a><br /> -<small>THE CEDARCROFT SET</small></h2> -</div> - - -<p class="cap">Miss Loring had no engagements for the evening, -and excusing herself to her family, spent it -alone in her room, where for a long while she -sat or walked the floor, in dire distress, her faculties -benumbed like those of a person who has suffered a calamitous -grief or a physical violence. Sentence by sentence -she slowly rehearsed the conversation of which she had -been the subject, seeking vainly for some phrase that -might lead her into the paths of comprehension and peace. -The thought of Coleman Van Duyn loomed large, indeed, -but another figure loomed larger. She was new to the -world of men, of men of the world, such as she had met -since she had been in New York, but it had never occurred -to her to believe that there could be a person so base as -Philip Gallatin. He weakened her faith in herself and in -all the world. The dishonor he had offered her had been -enough without this added insult to the memory of it. -Downtown they were using her name scurrilously in the -same breath with that of Phil Gallatin, speaking her name -lightly as they spoke of—of other women they couldn’t -respect. Phil Gallatin’s name and hers! It was the -more bitter, because in her heart she now knew that she -had given him more of her thoughts than any man had -ever had before. Oh, what kind of a world was this into -which she had come, which was made up of men who -held their own honor and the honor of the women of their -own kind so lightly? People received him, she knew. She<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_123" id="Page_123">[123]</a></span> -had even heard of his being at the Suydams on an evening -when she had been there. She had not seen him, and -thanked God for that; for since their meeting in the -Park, some weeks ago, her conscience had troubled her -more than once, and her heart had had curious phases of -uncertainty. “What if what he had said about his own -dependence on her were true?” She had questioned herself, -“What if,” as in a few unrelated moments of moral -irresponsibility she had madly speculated, “what if he -really loved her as he said he did—and that his mad -moment in the woods—<em>their</em> mad moment, as she had -even fearfully acknowledged, was only the supreme expression -of that reality?” He had solemnly sworn that -he had kept the faith—that since that afternoon in the -woods he had not broken it. She saw his dark eyes now -and the animal-like look of irresolution which had been in -them when she had turned away and left him.</p> - -<p>Could this man they were talking of in the clubs -who gibed at the virtue of women to make a good story, -be the same smiling fugitive of the north woods, the man -with the laugh of a boy, the tenderness of a woman and -the strength of moral fiber to battle for her as he had -done against the odds of the wilderness? It was unbelievable. -And yet how could Coleman Van Duyn have -repeated the story if he had not heard it? There was -no reply for that. Weary at last, trying to reconcile -the two irreconcilable facts, she fell into a fit of nervous -tears at the end of which, relaxed and utterly exhausted, -she sank to sleep.</p> - -<p>Even then, though reason slept, her imagination had -no rest, and she dreamed, one vision predominant—that -of a tall figure who carried upon his back the carcass -of a deer, his somber eyes peering over his shoulder at a -shadow which followed him in the underbrush. But when<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_124" id="Page_124">[124]</a></span> -she spoke to the figure it smiled and the shadow behind -disappeared. In her dream, she found this a curious -phenomenon, and when the shadow returned, as it presently -did, she spoke again. The shadow vanished and -the smile appeared on the face of the man with the burden. -Several times she repeated this experiment and each time -the same thing happened. But in a moment the shadow -formed into a definite shape, the bulky shape of Coleman -Van Duyn it seemed, and growing larger as it came, -closed in over them both. This time when she tried to -speak, her lips would utter no sound. She awoke suffocating, -and sat up in bed, gasping for breath. She -looked about her and gave a long sigh of relief, for day -had broken and the cool dawn was filtering through the -warm flowered pattern on her window hangings, flooding -the room with a rosy light.</p> - -<p>That shadow! It had been so tangible, so real that -she had fought at it with her bare hands when it had -descended above Phil Gallatin’s head! She lay awhile -looking up at the painted ceiling, her eyes wide open, -fearing that she might sleep again and the dream return; -and then, without ringing for her maid, got out of bed -abruptly, slipping her small feet into fur-lined room-slippers -and putting on a flowered kimono. She was angry -at herself for having dreams that could not be explained.</p> - -<p>What right had Phil Gallatin’s image to persist in her -thoughts, even when she slept? And what did the vision -mean? The shadow must be the shadow that had ever -followed the Gallatins, and yet it looked like Coley Van -Duyn! She laughed outright, and the sound of her voice -echoed strangely in her ears. She had thought the shadow -ominous, but she could laugh now because it looked like -Coley!</p> - -<p>She drew her bath and peered out of the window at<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_125" id="Page_125">[125]</a></span> -the sunlight. Familiar sounds and sights reassured her, -and with her plunge came rehabilitation, physical and -mental. Poor Coley! How jealous he was, and how unghostlike! -So jealous, perhaps, that he had lied to her! -The thought of the possibility of this moral turpitude -caused her to pause in the midst of her toilet and smile at -her reflection in the mirror. It was a gay little smile -which seemed out of place on the pale image which confronted -her. She drew back her curtains and the morning -sunlight streamed into the room bringing life and good -cheer. No, she would not—could not believe what Coley -had told of Philip Gallatin.</p> - -<p>She dressed quickly, and before her astonished maid -had her eyes open, had found the dog, Chicot, downstairs, -and was out in the frosty air breasting the keen north -wind in the Avenue. It was Kee-way-din that kissed her -brow, Kee-way-din that brought the flush of health and -youth into her cheeks, the breath of Kee-way-din which -came with a winter message of hopefulness from the distant -north woods. Chicot was joyful, too, and bounded -like a harlequin along the walk and into the reaches of -the Park. This was an unusual privilege for him, for his -mistress carried not even a leash, and he was bent on -making the most of his opportunities. He seemed to be -aware that only business of unusual importance would -take her out at this hour of the day, and came back barking -and whining his sympathy and encouragement. Like -most jesters, Chicot was foolish, but he had a heart under -his Eton jacket, and he took pains that she should know it.</p> - -<p>Chicot’s philosophy cleared the atmosphere. Her -course of action now seemed surprisingly clear to Jane. -Philip Gallatin being no more and no less to her than any -other man, deserved exactly the consideration to which -her gratitude entitled him, deserved the punishment which<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_126" id="Page_126">[126]</a></span> -fitted the crime—precisely the punishment which she had -given him. If they met, she would simply ignore him as -she did other men to whom she was indifferent, and she -thought that she could trust herself to manage the rest -if, indeed, her rebuff had not already made her intentions -clear to Gallatin. Refusing to meet him or cutting him in -public would only draw attention and give him an importance -with which she was far from willing to invest him. -If, as she had said, he was not responsible for his actions, -he was a very unfortunate young man, and deserved her -pity as much as her condemnation; and it was obvious -that he could not be more responsible for his actions in -New York than elsewhere. She still refused to believe -that her name had passed his lips, for of his honor in all -things save one, reason as well as instinct now assured -her.</p> - -<p>The story of Coleman Van Duyn’s no longer persisted. -In spite of herself she made a mental picture of the two -men, and Van Duyn suffered in the comparison. Coley -had lied to her. That was all.</p> - -<p>She walked briskly for twenty minutes and then sat -down on a bench, the very one she remembered, upon -which Mr. Gallatin three weeks ago had sat and told her -of his misfortunes. Chicot came and sat in front of her, -his muzzle on her knees, and looked up rapturously into -her eyes.</p> - -<p>“You’re such a sinful little dorglums, Chicot,” she -said to him. “Don’t you know that? To go running off -and bringing back disagreeable and impudent vagabonds -for me to send away? You’re quite silly. And your -moustache is precisely like Colonel Broadhurst’s, except -that it’s painted black. Are you really as wise as you -look? I don’t believe you are, because you’re dressed like -a harlequin, and harlequins are never wise, or they<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_127" id="Page_127">[127]</a></span> -shouldn’t be harlequins. Wise people don’t wear topknots -on their heads and rings upon their tails, Chicot. -Oh, it’s all very well for you to be so devoted now, but -you’d run away at once if another vagabond came along—a -tall vagabond with dark eyes and a deep voice that appealed -to your own little vagabond heart. You’re faithless, -Chicot, and I don’t care for you at all.”</p> - -<p>She rubbed his glossy ears between her fingers, and -he put one dusty paw upon her lap. “No, I can’t forgive -you,” she went on. “Never! All is over between us. -You’re a dissipated little vagabond, that’s what you are, -with no sense of responsibility whatever. I’m going to put -you in a deep dark dungeon, on a diet of dust and dungaree, -where you shall stay and meditate on your sins. -Not another <em>maron</em>—not one. You’re absolutely worthless, -Chicot, that’s what you are—worthless!”</p> - -<p>The knot on the end of the dog’s tail whisked approval; -for, though he understood exactly what she said, -it was the correct thing for dog-people to act only by -tones of voice, but when his mistress got up he frisked -homeward joyfully, with a gratified sense of his own important -share in the conclusion of the business of the -morning.</p> - -<p>Jane Loring entered upon the daily round thoughtfully, -but with a new sense of her responsibilities. For the -first time in her life she had had a sense of the careless -cruelty of the world for those thrown unprotected upon -its good will. There was a note of plethoric contrition in -her mail from Coleman Van Duyn. She read it very carefully -twice as though committing it to memory, and then -tearing it into small pieces committed it to the waste -basket, a hard little glitter in her eyes which Mr. Van -Duyn might not have cared to see. She made a resolve -that from this hour she would live according to another<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_128" id="Page_128">[128]</a></span> -code. She was no longer the little school-girl from the -convent in Paris. She was full-fledged now and would -take life as she found it, her eyes widely opened, not -with the wonder of adolescence, but keen for the excitements -as well as the illusions that awaited her.</p> - -<p>She got down from her limousine at the Pennington’s -house in Stuyvesant Square that night alone. Mr. Van -Duyn, in his note, had pleaded to be allowed to stop for -her in his machine and bring her home, but she had not -called him on the ’phone as he had requested. It was a -dinner for some of the members of the Cedarcroft set, as -formal as any function to which this gay company was -invited, could ever be. Jane was a moment late and -hurried upstairs not a little excited, for though she had -known Nellie Pennington in Pau, the guests were probably -strangers to her. In the dressing-room, where she found -Miss Jaffray and another girl she had not met, a maid -helped her off with her cloak and carriage boots and, -when she was ready to go down, handed her a silver tray -bearing a number of small envelopes. She selected the -one which bore her name, carelessly, wondering whether -her fortunes for the evening were to be entrusted to Mr. -Worthington or to Mr. Van Duyn, to find on the enclosed -card the name of Philip Gallatin.</p> - -<p>She paled a little, hesitated and lingered in the darkness -by the door under the mental plea of rearranging her -roses, her mind in a tumult. She had hardly expected to -find him here, for Mr. Gallatin, she had heard, hunted no -more and Nellie Pennington had never even mentioned -his name. What should she do? To say that she did not -wish to go in with a man high in the favor of her host -and hostess as well as every one else, without giving a -reason for her refusal would be gratuitously insulting to -her hostess as well as to Mr. Gallatin. She glanced helplessly<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_129" id="Page_129">[129]</a></span> -at Nina Jaffray, who was leaning toward the pier -glass, a stick of lip-salve in her fingers, and realized at -once that there was to be no rescue from her predicament. -Besides, changing cards with Miss Jaffray would not help -matters, for over in the men’s dressing room Mr. Gallatin -by this time had read the card which told him that Miss -Loring was to be his dinner partner.</p> - -<p>She could not understand how such a thing had happened. -Had Nellie Pennington heard? That was impossible. -There were but three people in New York who -knew about Mr. Gallatin and herself, and the third one -was Coley Van Duyn, who had guessed at their relations. -Could Philip Gallatin have dared—dared to ask this favor -of their hostess after Jane’s repudiation of him in the -Park? She couldn’t believe that either. Fate alone could -have conspired to produce a situation so full of exquisite -possibilities. She waited a moment, gathering her shattered -resources; and with that skill at dissimulation which -men sometimes ape, but never actually attain, she thrust -her arm through Miss Jaffray’s and the two of them went -down the wide stairway, a very pretty picture of youth -and unconcern.</p> - -<p>Jane’s eyes swept the room with obtrusive carelessness, -and took in every one in it, including the person for whom -the glance was intended, who saw it from a distant corner, -and marveled at the smile with which she entered and -greeted her hostess.</p> - -<p>“Hello, Nina! Jane, dear, <em>so</em> glad you could come!” -said Nellie Pennington. “Oh, what a perfectly darling -dress! You went to Doucet after all—for your debutante -<em>trousseau</em>. Perhaps, I’d better call it your <em>layette</em>—you -absurd child! Oh, for the roses of yesterday! You know -Betty Tremaine, don’t you? And Mr. Savage? Coley -do stop glaring and tell Phil Gallatin to come here at<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_130" id="Page_130">[130]</a></span> -once. My dear, you’re going in with the nicest man—a -very great friend of mine, and I want you to be particularly -sweet to him. Hear? Mr. Gallatin—you haven’t -met—I know. Here he is now. Miss Loring—Mr. Gallatin.”</p> - -<p>Jane nodded and coolly extended her hand. “How do -you do,” she said, tepidly polite, and then quickly to her -hostess. “It was very nice of you to think of me, Nellie. -It seems ages since Pau, doesn’t it?”</p> - -<p>“Ages! You unpleasant person. When you get as -old as I am, you’ll never mention the flight of time. -Ugh!”</p> - -<p>Her shudder was very effective. Nellie Pennington -was thirty-five, looked twenty, and knew it.</p> - -<p>“What difference does it make,” laughed Jane, -“when Time forgets one?”</p> - -<p>“Very prettily said, my dear. Time may amble, but -he’s too nimble to let you get him by the forelock.” And -turning she greeted the late comers.</p> - -<p>Jane turned to Mr. Gallatin, who was saying something -at her ear.</p> - -<p>“I beg your pardon,” she said.</p> - -<p>“I hope you don’t think that I—I am responsible for -this situation,” he repeated.</p> - -<p>“What situation, Mr. Gallatin?”</p> - -<p>“I hope you don’t think that I knew I was to go in to -dinner with you.”</p> - -<p>She laughed. “I hadn’t really thought very much -about it.”</p> - -<p>“I didn’t—I didn’t even know you were to be here. -It’s an accident—a cruel one. I wouldn’t have had it happen -for anything in the world.”</p> - -<p>“Do you think that’s very polite?” she asked lightly.</p> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_131" id="Page_131">[131]</a></span></p> - -<p>“I mean—” he stammered, “that you’ll have to acquit -me of any intention——”</p> - -<p>“You mean,” she interrupted quickly, with widely -opened eyes, “that you don’t <em>want</em> to go in to dinner with -me? I think that can easily be arranged,” and she turned -away from him toward her hostess. But he quickly interposed.</p> - -<p>“Don’t, Miss Loring. Don’t do that. It isn’t necessary. -I didn’t want your evening spoiled.”</p> - -<p>“I’m afraid I don’t understand,” she said, and the -curl of her lip did not escape him. “<em>That</em> could hardly -happen. But, if you have any doubts about it, perhaps——”</p> - -<p>“It was of you I was thinking——”</p> - -<p>“That’s very kind, I’m sure. I don’t see any reason -why we shouldn’t get on admirably. I’m not so difficult -as you seem to suppose. Why <em>should</em> you spoil my evening, -Mr. Gallatin?”</p> - -<p>She turned and looked him full in the eyes; and he -knew then what he had suspected at first, that she meant -to deny that they had ever met before.</p> - -<p>He gazed at her calmly, a slow smile twisting his lips, -acknowledging her rebuke, and acquiescing silently in her -position.</p> - -<p>“I’m sure I don’t wish to spoil it. I’m only too happy—to—to -be so much honored.”</p> - -<p>“There!” she laughed easily. “You <em>can</em> be polite, -can’t you? Do you hunt, Mr. Gallatin?” quickly changing -the topic to one less personal. “I thought nobody -ever dined here unless he was at least first cousin to a -Centaur.”</p> - -<p>“Oh, no,” he laughed. “Mrs. Pennington isn’t so -exclusive as that. But I’m sure she’d have her own -hunters in to table if she could. This is quite the liveliest<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_132" id="Page_132">[132]</a></span> -house! Mrs. Pennington is the most wonderful woman in -the world, and the reason is that she absolutely refuses -to be bored. She likes Centaurs because they’re mostly -natural creatures like herself, but she hasn’t any use for -Dinosaurs!”</p> - -<p>A general movement toward the table, and Jane took -Phil Gallatin’s arm and followed. A huge horse-shoe of -Beauties formed the centerpiece, from which emerged the -Cedarhurst Steeplechase Cup, won three years in succession -by Dick Pennington. The decorations of the room -were in red and gold, and a miniature steeplechase course -was laid around the table with small fences, brush and -water jumps, over which tiny equestrians in pink coats -gayly cavorted. Miss Loring found to her delight that -the neighbor on her other side was Mr. Worthington. At -least she was not to be without resource if the situation -grew beyond her. But Mr. Gallatin having made token of -his acquiescence, gave no sign of further intrusion. His -talk was of the people about them, of their ambitions and -their lack of them, of motoring, of country houses and -the latest news in Vanity Fair, to which she listened with -interest, casually questioning or venturing an opinion. -The only rôle possible for her was one of candor, and she -played it with cool deliberation, carefully guiding his remarks -into the well-buoyed channels of the commonplace.</p> - -<p>And while he talked amusedly, gayly even, in the -glances that she stole at his profile, she found that he had -grown thinner, and that the dark shadows under his eyes, -which she remembered, were still to be found there. The -fingers of his right hand slowly revolved the stem of a -flower. All of his wine glasses she discovered he had -turned bowl downward. His cocktail he had slowly pushed -aside until it was now hidden in the garland of roses -which circled the table. She felt quite sorry for him, as<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_133" id="Page_133">[133]</a></span> -she had felt last summer, and now, better attuned to detraction -than to praise, her mind and instinct both proclaimed -him, in spite of herself—a gentleman. Coleman -Van Duyn had lied to her. She was conscious of Coley -surveying her from his seat across the table with a jaundiced -eye, and this surveillance, while it made her uncomfortable, -served to feed the flame of her ire. Coley Van -Duyn had lied to her, and the lot of liars was oblivion.</p> - -<p>A pause in the conversation when Nina Jaffray’s voice -broke in on Mr. Gallatin’s right.</p> - -<p>“It isn’t true, is it, Phil?”</p> - -<p>He questioned.</p> - -<p>“What they’re saying about you,” she went on.</p> - -<p>He laughed uneasily. “Yes, of course, if it’s something -dreadful enough.”</p> - -<p>“Oh, it isn’t dreadful, Phil, only so enchantingly sinful -that it doesn’t sound like you in the least.”</p> - -<p>“No, Nina. It isn’t true. Enchanting sin and I are -strangers. Miss Loring and I have just been talking -about original sin in saddle-horses. I contend——”</p> - -<p>“Phil, I <em>won’t</em> be diverted in this way. I believe it’s -true.”</p> - -<p>“Then what’s the use of questioning me?”</p> - -<p>“I’m foolish enough to want you to deny it.”</p> - -<p>“Even if it is an enchanting sin? You might at least -let me flatter myself that much.”</p> - -<p>Miss Jaffray’s long eyes closed the fraction of an -inch, as she surveyed him aslant through her lashes, then -her lips broke into a smile which showed her small and -perfectly even teeth.</p> - -<p>“You shan’t evade me any longer. I’m insanely -jealous, Phil. <em>Who</em> was the girl you got lost with in the -woods?”</p> - -<p>Gallatin passed a miserable moment. He had sensed<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_134" id="Page_134">[134]</a></span> -the question and had tried to prevent it, cold with dismay -that Miss Loring should be in earshot. He flushed painfully -and for his life’s sake could make no reply.</p> - -<p>“It’s true—you’re blushing. I could forgive you for -the sin, but for blushing for it—never!”</p> - -<p>Gallatin had hoped that Miss Loring might have -turned to her other neighbor, but he had not dared to -look. Now he felt rather than saw that she was a listener -to the dialogue, and he heard her voice—cool, clear, and -insistent, just at his ear:</p> - -<p>“How very interesting, Nina! Mr. Gallatin’s sins are -finding him out?”</p> - -<p>“No, <em>I</em> am,” said the girl. “I’ve known Phil Gallatin -since we were children, and he has always been the most -unsusceptible of persons. He has never had any time -for girls. And now! Now by his guilty aspect he tacitly -acknowledges a love affair in the Canadian wilderness -with a——”</p> - -<p>“Oh, do stop, Nina,” he said in suppressed tones. -“Miss Loring can hardly be interested in——”</p> - -<p>“But I <em>am</em>,” put in Miss Loring coolly. <a href="#image02">“Do tell -me something more, Nina. Was she young and pretty?”</a></p> - -<div class="figcenter" style="width: 600px;"> -<a id="image02"> - <img src="images/image02.jpg" width="600" height="452" alt="" title="" /> -</a><br /> -<div class="caption"><a href="#Page_134">“‘Do tell me something more, Nina. Was she young and pretty?’”</a></div> -</div> - -<p>“Ask this guilty wretch——”</p> - -<p>“Don’t you know who she was? What was her name?”</p> - -<p>“That’s just what I want to find out. And nobody -seems to know, except Phil.”</p> - -<p>“Do tell us, Mr. Gallatin.”</p> - -<p>“She had no name,” said Mr. Gallatin very quietly. -“There was no girl in the woods.”</p> - -<p>“A woman, then?” queried Miss Jaffray.</p> - -<p>“Neither girl—nor woman—only a Dryad. The -woods are full of them. My Indian guide insisted -that——”</p> - -<p>“Oh, no, you sha’n’t get out of it so easily, Phil, and<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_135" id="Page_135">[135]</a></span> -I insist upon your sticking to facts. A Dryad, indeed, -with the latest thing in fishing rods and creels!”</p> - -<p>Miss Jaffray had not for a moment taken her gaze -from Gallatin’s face, but now she changed her tone to one -of impudent raillery. “You know, Phil, you’ve always -held women in such high regard that I’ve always thought -you positively tiresome. And now, just when I find you -developing the most unusual and interesting qualities, you -deny their very existence! I was just getting ready to -fall madly in love with you. How disappointing you are! -Isn’t he, Jane?”</p> - -<p>“Dreadfully so,” said Miss Loring. “Tell it all, Mr. -Gallatin, by all means, since we already know the half. -I’m sure the reality can’t be nearly as dreadful as we -already think it is.”</p> - -<p>Her effrontery astounded him, but he met her fairly.</p> - -<p>“There’s nothing to tell. If an enchantingly sinful -man met an enchantingly helpless Dryad—what would -be likely to happen? Can <em>you</em> tell us, Miss Loring?”</p> - -<p>Jane’s weapons went flying for a moment, but she -recovered them adroitly.</p> - -<p>“The situation has possibilities of which you are in -every way worthy, I don’t doubt, Mr. Gallatin. The -name of your Dryad will, of course, be revealed in time. -I’m sure if Miss Jaffray pleads with you long enough -you’ll gladly tell her.”</p> - -<p>Nina Jaffray laughed.</p> - -<p>“Come, Phil, there’s a dear. Do tell a fellow. I’ve -really got to know, if only for the fun of scratching her -eyes out. I’m sure I ought to—oughtn’t I, Jane?”</p> - -<p>But Miss Loring had already turned and was deep -in conversation with Mr. Worthington, who for twenty -minutes at least, had been trying to attract her attention.</p> - -<hr class="chap" /> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_136" id="Page_136">[136]</a></span></p> - - - - -<div class="chapter"> -<h2><a name="XII" id="XII">XII</a><br /> -<small>NELLIE PENNINGTON CUTS IN</small></h2> -</div> - - -<p class="cap">It was the custom at Richard Pennington’s dinners -for the men to follow the ladies at once to the library -or drawing-room if they cared to, for Nellie Pennington -liked smoking and made no bones about it. People -who dined with her were expected to do exactly as -they pleased, and this included the use of tobacco in all -parts of the house. She was not running a kindergarten, -she insisted, and the mothers of timorous buds were amply -warned that they must look to the habits of their tender -offspring. And so after the ices were served, when the -women departed, some of their dinner partners followed -them into the other rooms, finding more pleasure in the -cigarette <i lang="fr" xml:lang="fr">à deux</i> than in the stable talk at the dismantled -dining-table.</p> - -<p>Phil Gallatin rose and followed the ladies to the door -and then returned, sank into a vacant chair and began -smoking, thinking deeply of the new difficulty into which -Nina Jaffray had plunged him. A small group of men -remained, Larry Kane, William Worthington, Ogden -Spencer, and Egerton Savage, who gathered at the end -of the table around their host.</p> - -<p>“Selected your 1913 model yet, Bibby?” Pennington -asked with a laugh. “What is she to be this time? Inside -control, of course, maximum flexibility, minimum -friction——”</p> - -<p>“Oh, forget it, Dick,” said Worthington, sulkily.</p> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_137" id="Page_137">[137]</a></span></p> - -<p>“No offense, you know. Down on your luck? Cheer -up, old chap, you’ll be in love again presently. There are -as many good fish in the sea——”</p> - -<p>“I’m not fishing,” put in Bibby with some dignity.</p> - -<p>“By George!” whispered Larry Kane, in awed tones, -“I believe he’s got it again. Oh, Bibby, when you marry, -Venus will go into sackcloth and ashes!”</p> - -<p>“So will Bibby,” said Spencer. “Marriage isn’t his -line at all. You know better than that, don’t you, Bibby. -No demnition bow-wows on <em>your</em> Venusberg—what? -You’ve got the secret. Love often and you’ll love longer. -Aren’t I right, Bibby?”</p> - -<p>“Oh, let Bibby alone,” sighed Savage. “He’s got the -secret. I take my hat off to him. Every year he bathes -in the Fountain of Youth, and like the chap in the book—what’s -his name?—gazes at his rejuvenated reflection in -the limpid pool of virgin eyes. Look at him! Forty-five, -if he’s a day, and looks like a stage juvenile.”</p> - -<p>Gallatin listened to the chatter with dull ears, smiling -perfunctorily, not because he enjoyed this particular kind -of humor, but because he did not choose to let his silence -become conspicuous. And when the sounds from a piano -were heard and the men rose to join the ladies, he had -made a resolve to see Jane Loring alone before the evening -was gone.</p> - -<p>In the drawing-room Betty Tremaine was playing airs -from the latest Broadway musical success, which Dirwell -De Lancey was singing with a throaty baritone. Jane -Loring sat on a sofa next to her hostess, both of them -laughing at young Perrine, who began showing the company -a new version of the turkey-trot.</p> - -<p>“Do a ‘Dance Apache,’ Freddy,” cried Nina Jaffray, -springing to her feet. “You know,” and before he knew -what she was about, he was seized by the arms, and while<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_138" id="Page_138">[138]</a></span> -Miss Tremaine caught the spirit of the thing in a gay -cadence of the Boulevards, the two of them flew like mad -things around the room, to the imminent hazard of furniture -and its occupants. There was something barbaric -in their wild rush as they whirled apart and came together -again and the dance ended only when Freddy Perrine -catapulted into a corner, breathless and exhausted. Miss -Jaffray remained upright, her slender breast heaving, her -eyes dark with excitement, glancing from one to another -with the bold challenge of a Bacchante fresh from the -groves of Naxos. There was uproarious applause and a -demand for repetition, but as no one volunteered to take -the place of the exhausted Perrine, the music ceased and -Miss Jaffray, after rearranging her disordered hair, threw -herself into a vacant chair.</p> - -<p>“You’re wonderful, Nina!” said Nellie Pennington, -languidly, “but how <em>can</em> you do it? It’s more like wrestling -than dancing?”</p> - -<p>“I like wrestling,” said Miss Jaffray, unperturbedly.</p> - -<p>Auction tables were formed in the library and the -company divided itself into parties of three or four, each -with its own interests. Gallatin soon learned that it -might prove difficult to carry his resolution into effect, for -Miss Loring was the center of a group which seemed to -defy disruption, and Coleman Van Duyn immediately pre-empted -the nearest chair, from which nothing less than -dynamite would have availed to dislodge him. Gallatin -had heard that Van Duyn had been with the Lorings in -Canada, and had wondered vaguely whether this fact -could have anything to do with that gentleman’s sudden -change of manner toward himself. The two men had -gone to the same school, and the same university; and -while they had never been by temper or inclination in the -slightest degree suited to each other, circumstances threw<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_139" id="Page_139">[139]</a></span> -them often together and as fellow club-mates they had -owed and paid each other a tolerable civility. But this -winter Van Duyn’s nods had been stiff and his manner -taciturn. Personally, Phil Gallatin did not care whether -Coleman Van Duyn was civil or not, and only thought -of the matter in its possible reference to Jane Loring. -Gallatin leaned over the back of the sofa in conversation -with Nellie Pennington, listening with one ear to Coley’s -rather heavy attempts at amiability.</p> - -<p>After a while his hostess moved to a couch in the -corner and motioned for him to take the place beside her.</p> - -<p>“You know, Phil,” she began, reproving him in her -softest tones, “I’ve been thinking about you a lot lately. -Aren’t you flattered? You ought to be. I’ve made up -my mind to speak to you with all the seriousness of my -advanced years.”</p> - -<p>“Yes, Mother, dear,” laughed Phil. “What is it now? -Have I been breaking window-panes or pulling the cat’s -tail?”</p> - -<p>“Neither—and both,” she returned calmly. “But it’s -your sins of omission that bother me most. You’re incorrigibly -lazy!”</p> - -<p>“Thanks,” he said, settling himself comfortably. “I -know it.”</p> - -<p>“And aren’t you ashamed of yourself?”</p> - -<p>“Awfully.”</p> - -<p>“I’m told that you’re never in your office, that you’ve -let your practice go to smash, that your partners are on -the point of casting you into the outer darkness.”</p> - -<p>“Oh, that’s true,” he said wearily. “I’ve practically -withdrawn from the firm, Nellie. I didn’t bring any business -in. It’s even possible that I kept some of it out. I’m -a moral and physical incubus. In fact, John Kenyon has -almost told me so.”</p> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_140" id="Page_140">[140]</a></span></p> - -<p>“Well, what are you going to do about it?”</p> - -<p>“Do?</p> - -<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0">A Loaf of Bread beneath the Bough,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">A Flask of Wine, a Book of Verse—and thou.<br /></span> -</div></div> - -<p class="noi">If you’ll come with me, Nellie.”</p> - -<p>There was no response of humor in Nellie Pennington’s -expression.</p> - -<p>“No,” she said quietly. “Not I. I want you to be -serious, Phil.” She paused a moment, looking down, and -when her eyes sought his again he saw in them the spark -of a very genuine interest. “I don’t know whether you -know it or not, Phil, but I’m really very fond of you. -And if I didn’t understand you as well as I do, of course, -I wouldn’t dare to be so frank.”</p> - -<p>Philip Gallatin inclined his head slightly.</p> - -<p>“Go on, please,” he said.</p> - -<p>She hesitated a moment and then clutched his arm -with her strong fingers.</p> - -<p>“I want you to wake up, Phil,” she said with sudden -insistence. “I want you to wake up, to open your eyes -wide—wide, do you hear, to stretch your intellectual fibers -and learn something of your own strength. You’re asleep, -Boy! You’ve been asleep for years! I want you to -wake up—and prove the stuff that’s in you. You’re the -last of your line, Phil, the very last; but whatever the -faults your fathers left you, you’ve got their genius, -too.”</p> - -<p>Gallatin was slowly shaking his head.</p> - -<p>“Not that—only——”</p> - -<p>“I <em>know</em> it,” she said proudly. “You can’t hide from -everybody, Phil. I still remember those cases you won -when you were just out of law-school—that political one<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_141" id="Page_141">[141]</a></span> -and the other of the drunkard indicted on circumstantial -evidence——”</p> - -<p>“I was interested in that,” he muttered.</p> - -<p>“You’ll be interested again. You <em>must</em> be. Do you -hear? You’ve come to the parting of the ways, Phil, -and you’ve got to make a choice. You’re drifting with -the tide, and I don’t like it, waiting for Time to provide -your Destiny when you’ve got the making of it in your -own hands. You’ve got to put to sea, hoist what sail -you’ve got and brave the elements.”</p> - -<p>“I’m a derelict, Nellie,” he said painfully.</p> - -<p>“Shame! Phil,” she whispered. “A derelict is a ship -without a soul. You a derelict! Then society is made -up of derelicts, discards from the game of opportunity. -Some of us are rich. We think we can afford to be idle. -Ambition doesn’t matter to such men as Dick, or Larry -Kane, or Egerton Savage. Their lines were drawn in easy -places, their lives were ready-made from the hour that -they were born. But you! There’s no excuse for you. -You are not rich. As the world considers such things, -you’re poor and so you’re born for better things! You’ve -got the Gallatin intellect, the Gallatin solidity, the Gallatin -cleverness——”</p> - -<p>“And the Gallatin insufficiency,” he finished for her.</p> - -<p>“A fig for your vices,” she said contemptuously. “It’s -the little men of this world that never have any vices. No -big man ever was without them. Whatever dims the -luster of the spirit, the white fire of intellect burns steadily -on, unless—” she paused and glanced at him, quickly, -lowering her voice—“unless the luster of the spirit is -dimmed too long, Phil.”</p> - -<p>He clasped his long fingers around one of his knees -and looked thoughtfully at the rug.</p> - -<p>“I understand,” he said quietly.</p> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_142" id="Page_142">[142]</a></span></p> - -<p>“You don’t mind my speaking to you so, do you, -Phil, dear?”</p> - -<p>He closed his eyes, and then opening them as though -with an effort, looked at her squarely.</p> - -<p>“No, Nellie.”</p> - -<p>Her firm hand pressed his strongly. “Let me help -you, Phil. There are not many fellows I’d go out of my -way for, not many of them are worth it. Phil, you’ve -got to take hold at once—right away. Make a fresh -start.”</p> - -<p>“I did take hold for—for a good while and then—and -then I slipped a cog——”</p> - -<p>“Why? You mean it was too hard for you?”</p> - -<p>“No, not at all. It had got so that I wasn’t bothered—not -much—that is—I let go purposely.” He -stopped suddenly. “I can’t tell you why. I guess I’m a -fool—that’s all.”</p> - -<p>She examined his face with a new interest. There was -something here she could not understand. She had known -Phil Gallatin since his boyhood and had always believed -in him. She had watched his development with the eyes -of an elder sister, and had never given up the hope that -he might carry on the traditions of his blood in all things -save the one to be dreaded. She had never talked with -him before. Indeed, she would not have done so to-night -had it not been that a strong friendly impulse had urged -her. She made it a practice never to interfere in the -lives of others, if interference meant the cost of needless -pain; but as she had said to him, Phil Gallatin was worth -helping. She was thankful, too, that he had taken her -advice kindly.</p> - -<p>What was this he was saying about letting go purposely. -What—but she had reached the ends of friendliness -and the beginnings of curiosity.</p> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_143" id="Page_143">[143]</a></span></p> - -<p>“No, you’re not a fool, Phil. You sha’n’t call yourself -names.” And then, “You say you weren’t bothered—much?”</p> - -<p>“No. Things had got a good deal easier for me. I -was beginning to feel hopeful for the future. It had cost -me something, but I had got my grip. I had started in -at the office again, and Kenyon had given me some important -work to do. Good old Uncle John! He seemed -to know that I was trying.”</p> - -<p>He stopped a moment and then went on rapidly. “He -turned me loose on a big corporation case the firm was -preparing for trial. I threw myself into the thing, body -and soul. I worked like a dog—night and day, and every -hour that I worked my grip on myself grew stronger. I -was awake then, Nellie, full of enthusiasm, my old love of -my profession glowing at a white heat that absorbed and -swallowed all other fires. It seemed that I found out -some things the other fellows had overlooked, and a few -days before the big case was to be called, Kenyon asked -me if I didn’t want to take charge. I don’t believe he -knew how good that made me feel. I seemed to have come -into my own again. I knew I could win and I told him so. -So he and Hood dropped out and turned the whole thing -over to me. I had it all at my fingers’ ends. You know, -I once learned a little law, Nellie, and I was figuring on a -great victory.”</p> - -<p>As Gallatin spoke, his long frame slowly straightened, -his head drew well back on his shoulders and a new fire -glowed in his eyes.</p> - -<p>“It was great!” he went on. “I don’t believe any -man alive ever felt more sure of himself than I did when -I wound up that case and shut up my desk for the day. -If I won, and win I should, it would give Kenyon, Hood -and Gallatin a lot of prestige. Things looked pretty<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_144" id="Page_144">[144]</a></span> -bright that night. I began to see the possibilities of a -career, Nellie, a real career that even a Gallatin might be -proud of.”</p> - -<p>He came to a sudden pause, his figure crumpled, and -the glow in his eyes faded as though a film had fallen -across them.</p> - -<p>“And then?” asked Nellie Pennington.</p> - -<p>“And then,” he muttered haltingly, “something happened -to me—I had a—a disappointment—and things -went all wrong inside of me—I didn’t care what happened. -I went to the bad, Nellie, clean—clean to the -bad——”</p> - -<p>“Yes,” said Mrs. Pennington softly, “I heard. -That’s why I spoke to you to-night. You haven’t -been——”</p> - -<p>“No, thank God, I’m keeping straight now, but it did -hurt to have done so well and then to have failed so -utterly. You see the case I was speaking of—Kenyon, -Hood and Gallatin had turned the whole business over to -me, and I wasn’t there to plead. They couldn’t find me. -There was a postponement, of course, but my opportunity -had passed and it won’t come again.”</p> - -<p>He stopped, glanced at her face and then turned -away. “I don’t know why I’ve told you these things,” he -finished soberly, “for sympathy is hardly the kind of -thing a man in my position can stand for.”</p> - -<p>Nellie Pennington remained silent. Her interest was -deep and her wonder uncontrollable. Therefore, being a -woman, she did not question. She only waited. Her -woman’s eyes to-night had been wide open, and she had -already made a rapid diagnosis of which her curiosity -compelled a confirmation.</p> - -<p>They were alone at their end of the room. Miss -Loring and Mr. Van Duyn had gone in to the bridge tables<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_145" id="Page_145">[145]</a></span> -and Egerton Savage was conversing in a low tone with -Betty Tremaine, whose fingers straying over the piano, -were running softly through an aria from “La Bohème.”</p> - -<p>“You know, Nellie,” he went on presently, “I’m not -in the habit of talking about my own affairs, even with -my friends, but I believe it’s done me a lot of good to -talk to you. You’ll forgive me, won’t you?”</p> - -<p>She nodded and then went on quickly. “The trouble -with you is that you don’t talk enough about yourself, -Phil. You’re a seething mass of introspection. It isn’t -healthy. Friends are only conversational chopping-blocks -after all. Why don’t you use them? Me—for instance. -I’m safe, sane, and I confess a trifle curious.” -She paused a moment, and then said keenly:</p> - -<p>“It’s a girl, of course.”</p> - -<p>He raised his head quickly, and then lowered it as -quickly again.</p> - -<p>“No, there isn’t any girl.”</p> - -<p>“Oh, yes, there is. I’ve known it for quite two hours.”</p> - -<p>“How?” he asked in alarm.</p> - -<p>She waved her fan with a graceful gesture. “Second -sight, a sixth sense, an appreciation for the fourth dimension—in -short—the instinct of a woman.”</p> - -<p>“You mean that you guessed?”</p> - -<p>“No, that I perceived.”</p> - -<p>“It takes a woman to perceive something which doesn’t -exist,” he said easily.</p> - -<p>She turned and examined him with level brows. “Then -why did you admit it?”</p> - -<p>“I didn’t.”</p> - -<p>She leaned back among her pillows and laughed at him -mockingly. “Oh, Phil! <em>Must</em> I be brutal?”</p> - -<p>“What do you mean?”</p> - -<p>“That the girl—is here—to-night.”</p> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_146" id="Page_146">[146]</a></span></p> - -<p>“That is not true,” he stammered. “She is not -here.”</p> - -<p>Mrs. Pennington did not spare him.</p> - -<p>“A moment ago—you denied that there was a girl. -Now you’re willing to admit that she’s only absent. Please -don’t doubt the accuracy of my feminine deductions, Phil. -Nothing provokes me more. You may drive me to the -extreme of mentioning her name.”</p> - -<p>Gallatin stopped fencing. It was an art he was obliged -reluctantly to confess, in which he was far from a match -for this tantalizing adversary. So he relapsed into silence, -aware that the longer the conversation continued the more -vulnerable he became.</p> - -<p>But she reassured him in a moment.</p> - -<p>“Oh, why won’t you trust me?” she whispered, her -eyes dark with interest. “I do want to help you if you’ll -let me. It <em>was</em> only a guess, Phil, a guess founded on the -most intangible evidence, but I couldn’t help seeing (you -know a heaven-born hostess is Midas-eared and Argus-eyed) -what passed between you and Jane Loring.”</p> - -<p>“Nothing that I’m aware of passed between us,” he -said quietly. “She was very civil.”</p> - -<p>“As civil as a cucumber—no more—no less. How -could <em>I</em> know that she didn’t want to go in to dinner with -you?”</p> - -<p>“You heard?”</p> - -<p>“Yes, from the back of my head. Besides, Phil, I’ve -always told you that your eyes were too expressive.” His -look of dismay was so genuine that she stopped and laid -her hand along his arm. “I was watching you, Phil. -That’s why I know. I shouldn’t have noticed, if I hadn’t -been.”</p> - -<p>“Yes,” he slowly admitted at last. “Miss Loring and -I had met before.”</p> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_147" id="Page_147">[147]</a></span></p> - -<p>At that he stopped and would say no more. Instinct -warned her that curiosity had drawn her to the verge of -intrusiveness, and so she, too, remained silent while -through her head a hundred thoughts were racing—benevolent, -romantic, speculative, concerning these two young -people whom she liked—and one of whom was unhappy. -They had met before, on terms of intimacy, but where?</p> - -<p>Intimacies worth quarreling over were scarcely to be -made in the brief season during which Jane Loring had -been in New York, for unlike Mr. Worthington, Phil Gallatin -was no cultivator of social squabs. Obviously they -had met elsewhere. Last summer? Phil Gallatin was fishing -in Canada—Canada! So was Jane! Mrs. Pennington -straightened and examined her companion curiously. -She had heard the story of Phil Gallatin’s wood-nymph -and was now thoroughly awake to the reasons for his reticence, -so she sank back among her cushions, her eyes -downcast, a smile wreathing her lips, the smile of the collector -of objects of art and virtue who has stumbled upon -a hidden rarity. It was a smile, too, of self-appreciation -and approval, for her premises had been negligible and her -conclusion only arrived at after a process of induction -which surprised her by the completeness of its success. -She was already wondering how her information could -best serve her purposes as mediator when Gallatin spoke -again.</p> - -<p>“We had met before, Nellie, under unusual and—and—er—trying -conditions. There was a—misunderstanding—something -happened—which you need not know—a -damage to—to her pride which I would give my right hand -to repair.”</p> - -<p>“Perhaps, if you could see her alone——”</p> - -<p>“Yes, I was hoping for that—but it hardly seems -possible here.”</p> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_148" id="Page_148">[148]</a></span></p> - -<p>Mrs. Pennington was leaning forward now, slightly -away from him, thinking deeply, thoroughly alive to her -responsibilities—her responsibilities to Jane Loring as -well as to the man beside her. It was the judgment of -the world that Phil was a failure—her own judgment, -too, in spite of her affection for him; and yet in her breast -there still lived a belief that he still had a chance for -regeneration. She had seen the spark of it in his eyes, -heard the echo of it in tones of his voice when he had -spoken of his last failures. She hesitated long before replying, -her eyes looking into space, like a seer of visions, -as though she were trying to read the riddle of the -future. And when she spoke it was with tones of resolution.</p> - -<p>“I think it might be managed. Will you leave it -to me?”</p> - -<p>She gave him her hand in a warm clasp. “I believe in -you, Phil, and I understand,” she finished softly.</p> - -<p>Gallatin followed her to the door of the library, unquiet -of mind and sober of demeanor. He had long known -Nellie Pennington to be a wonderful woman and the tangible -evidences of her cleverness still lingered as the result -of his interview. There seemed to be nothing a woman -of her equipment could not accomplish, nothing she could -not learn if she made up her mind to it. In twenty minutes -of talk she had succeeded in extracting from Gallatin, -without unseemly effort, his most carefully treasured -secret, and indeed he half suspected that her intuition -had already supplied the missing links in the chain of -gossip that was going the rounds about him. But he -did not question her loyalty or her tact and, happy to -trust his fortunes entirely into her hands, he approached -the bridge-tables aware that the task which his hostess<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_149" id="Page_149">[149]</a></span> -had assumed so lightly was one that would tax her ingenuity -to the utmost.</p> - -<p>Her last whispered admonition as she left him in the -hall had been “Wait, and don’t play bridge!” and so he -followed her injunction implicitly, wondering how the -miracle was to be accomplished. Miss Loring did not -raise her head at his approach, and even when the others -at the table nodded greetings she bent her head upon her -cards and made her bids, carelessly oblivious of his presence.</p> - -<p>Miss Jaffray hardly improved his situation when she -flashed a mocking glance up at him and laughed. -“<em>Satyr!</em>” she said. “I could never have believed it of -you, Phil. You were such a nice little boy, too, though -you <em>would</em> pull my pig-tail!”</p> - -<p>“Don’t mind Nina, Phil,” said Worthington gayly. -“Satyrical remarks are her long suit, especially when -she’s losing.”</p> - -<p>Nina regarded him reproachfully. “There <em>was</em> a -time, Bibby, when you wouldn’t have spoken so unkindly -of me. Is this the way you repay your debt of gratitude?”</p> - -<p>“Gratitude!”</p> - -<p>“Yes, I might have married you, you know.”</p> - -<p>“Oh, Nina! I’d forgotten.”</p> - -<p>“Think of the peril you escaped and be thankful!”</p> - -<p>“I am,” he said devoutly.</p> - -<p>“You ought to be.” And then to Miss Loring, -“Bibby hasn’t proposed to you yet, has he, Jane,” she -asked.</p> - -<p>“I don’t think so,” said Jane laughing. “Have you, -Mr. Worthington?”</p> - -<p>He flushed painfully and gnawed at his small mustache. -Nina had scored heavily.</p> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_150" id="Page_150">[150]</a></span></p> - -<p>“I hope he does,” Jane went on with a sense of -throwing a buoy to a drowning man, “because I’m sure -I’d accept him.”</p> - -<p>Worthington smiled gratefully and adored her in fervent -silence.</p> - -<p>“Men have stopped asking <em>me</em> to marry them lately,” -sighed Nina. “It annoys me dreadfully.” She spoke -of this misfortune with the same careless tone one would -use with reference to a distasteful pattern in wall-paper.</p> - -<p>“But think of the hearts you’ve broken,” said Gallatin.</p> - -<p>“Or of the hearts I wanted to break but couldn’t,” -she replied. “Yours, for instance, Phil.”</p> - -<p>“You couldn’t have tried very hard,” he laughed.</p> - -<p>“I didn’t know you were a satyr then,” she said, -pushing her chair back from the table. “Your rubber, -I think, Bibby. I’m sure we’d better stop, Dick, or you’ll -never ask me here again.”</p> - -<hr class="chap" /> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_151" id="Page_151">[151]</a></span></p> - - - - -<div class="chapter"> -<h2><a name="XIII" id="XIII">XIII</a><br /> -<small>MRS. PENNINGTON’S BROUGHAM</small></h2> -</div> - - -<p class="cap">There was a general movement of dispersal, and -Philip Gallatin, who had now given up all hope -of the opportunity Nellie Pennington had promised -him, followed the party into the hall, his eyes following -Jane, who had found her hostess and was making -her adieux. He watched her slender figure as she made -her way up the stairs, and turned to Mrs. Pennington -reproachfully.</p> - -<p>“Don’t speak, Phil,” his hostess whispered. “It’s -all arranged. Go at once and get your things.”</p> - -<p>Gallatin obeyed quickly and when he came down he -heard Mrs. Pennington saying, “So sorry, Jane. Your -machine came, but the butler sent it home again. There -was some mistake in the orders, it seems. But I’ve -ordered my brougham, and it’s waiting at the door for -you. You don’t mind, do you? I’ve asked Mr. Gallatin -to see that you get home safely.”</p> - -<p>“Of course, it’s very kind of you, dear.” She hesitated. -“But it seems too bad to trouble Mr. Gallatin.”</p> - -<p>“I’m sure—I’m delighted,” he said, and it was evident -that he meant it.</p> - -<p>Jane Loring glanced around her quickly, helplessly -it seemed to Gallatin, but the sight of Coleman Van Duyn, -waiting hat in hand, helped her to a decision.</p> - -<p>“It’s so kind of you, Mr. Gallatin,” she said gratefully, -and then, in a whisper as she kissed her hostess,<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_152" id="Page_152">[152]</a></span> -“Nellie, you’re simply odious!” and made her way out -of the door.</p> - -<p>Gallatin followed quickly, but Miss Loring reached -the curb before him and giving her number to the coachman, -got in without the proffered hand of her escort.</p> - -<p>Angry though she was, Jane Loring kept her composure -admirably. All the world, it seemed, was conspiring -to throw her with this man whom she now knew -she must detest. If fate, blind and unthinking, had made -him her dinner partner, only design, malicious and uncivil, -could be blamed for his presence now. She sat in -her corner, her figure tense, her head averted, her wraps -carefully drawn about her, a dark and forbidding wraith -of outraged dignity, waiting only for him to speak that -she might crush him.</p> - -<p>Gallatin sat immovable for a moment, conscious of -all the feminine forces arrayed against him.</p> - -<p>“I make no apologies,” he began with an assurance -which surprised her. “I wanted to see you alone and -no other chance offered. I suppose I might say I’m -sorry, but that wouldn’t be true. I’m not sorry and -I don’t want any misunderstandings. I asked Mrs. -Pennington——”</p> - -<p>“Oh!” she broke in wrathfully. “Many people, it -seems, enjoy your confidences, Mr. Gallatin.”</p> - -<p>“No,” he went on, steadily. “I’m not given to confidences, -Miss Loring. Mrs. Pennington is one of my -oldest and best friends. I told her it was necessary for -me to see you alone for a moment and she took pity on -me.”</p> - -<p>“Mrs. Pennington has taken an unpardonable liberty -and I shall tell her so,” said Jane decisively.</p> - -<p>“I hope you won’t do that.”</p> - -<p>“Have matters reached such a point in New York<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_153" id="Page_153">[153]</a></span> -that a girl can’t drive out alone without being open to -the importunity of any stranger?”</p> - -<p>“I am not a stranger,” he put in firmly, and his -voice dominated hers. “We met within the Gates of -Chance, Miss Loring, on equal terms. I have the right -of any man to plead——”</p> - -<p>“You’ve already pleaded.”</p> - -<p>“You were prejudiced. I’ve appealed—to a higher -tribunal—your sense of justice.”</p> - -<p>“I know no law but my own instinct.”</p> - -<p>“You are not true to your own instincts then, or they -are not true to you.”</p> - -<p>It was sophistry, of course, but she was a trifle -startled at the accuracy of his deduction, for she realized -that it was her judgment only that rejected him and -that her instincts advised her of the pleasure she took -in his company. Her instincts then being unreliable, she -followed her judgment blindly, uncomfortably conscious -that she did it against her will, and angry with herself -that it was so.</p> - -<p>“I only know, Mr. Gallatin,” she said coldly, “that -both judgment and instinct warn me against you. Whatever -there is left in you of honor—of decency, must -surely respond to my distaste for this intrusion.”</p> - -<p>“If I admit that I’m neither honorable nor decent, -will you give me the credit for speaking the truth?” he -asked slowly.</p> - -<p>“With reference to what?” scornfully.</p> - -<p>“To this story they’re telling.”</p> - -<p>“You brought it here, of course.”</p> - -<p>“Will you believe me if I say that I didn’t?”</p> - -<p>“Why should I believe you?”</p> - -<p>“Simply because I ask you to.”</p> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_154" id="Page_154">[154]</a></span></p> - -<p>She looked out of the carriage window away from -him.</p> - -<p>“I believed in you once, Mr. Gallatin.”</p> - -<p>He bowed his head.</p> - -<p>“Even that is something,” he said. “You wouldn’t -have believed in me then if instinct had forbidden it. I -am the same person you once believed in.”</p> - -<p>“My judgment was at fault. I dislike you intensely.”</p> - -<p>“I won’t believe it.”</p> - -<p>“You must. You did me an injury that nothing can -repair.”</p> - -<p>“An injury to your dignity, to your womanhood and -sensibility——”</p> - -<p>“Hardly,” she said scornfully, “or even to my pride. -It was only my body—you hurt, Mr. Gallatin—your -kisses—they soiled me——”</p> - -<p>“My God, Jane! Don’t! Haven’t you punished -me enough? I was mad, I tell you. There was a devil -in me, that owned me body and soul, that stole my reason, -killed what was good, and made a monster of the love -I had cherished—an insensate enemy that perverted and -brutalized every decent instinct, a Thing unfamiliar to -you which frightened and drove you away in fear and -loathing. It was not <em>me</em> you feared, Jane, for you -trusted me. It was the Thing you feared, as I fear it, -the Enemy that had pursued me into the woods where I -had fled from it.”</p> - -<p>Jane Loring sat in her corner apparently unconcerned, -but her heart was throbbing and the hands beneath -the wide sleeves of her opera kimono were nervously -clutched. The sound of his voice, its deep sonorous tones -when aroused were familiar to her. As he paused she -stole a glance at him, for as he spoke of his Enemy he -had turned away from her, his eyes peering out into the<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_155" id="Page_155">[155]</a></span> -dimly lighted street, as if the mention of his weakness -shamed him.</p> - -<p>“I’m not asking you for your pity,” he went on more -steadily. “I only want your pardon. I don’t think it’s -too much to ask. It wasn’t the real Phil Gallatin who -brought that shame on you.”</p> - -<p>“The real Phil Gallatin! Which is the real Phil Gallatin?” -she asked cruelly.</p> - -<p>“What you make him—to-night,” he replied quickly. -“I’ve done what I can without you—lived like an outcast -on the memories of happiness, but I can’t subsist on -that. Memory is poor food for a starving man.”</p> - -<p>“I can’t see how <em>I</em> can be held accountable. <em>I</em> did -not make you, Mr. Gallatin.”</p> - -<p>“But you can mar me. I’ve come,” he remembered -the words of Mrs. Pennington, “I’ve come to the parting -of the ways. Up there—I gained my self-respect—and -lost it. The best of me you saw and the worst of -me. You knew me only for five days and yet no one in -the world can know me exactly as you do.”</p> - -<p>“The pity of it——”</p> - -<p>“The best of me and the worst of me, the man in me -and the beast in me, my sanity and my madness. All -these you saw. The record is at least complete.”</p> - -<p>“I hope so.”</p> - -<p>“I could not lie to you nor cheat you with false -sentiment. I played the game fairly until—until then.”</p> - -<p>“Yes—until then.”</p> - -<p>“You cared for me, there in the woods. I earned -your friendship. And I hoped that the time had come -when I could prove—to you, at least, that I was not to be -found wanting.”</p> - -<p>“And yet—you failed,” she said.</p> - -<p>“Yes, I failed. Oh, I don’t try to make my sin any<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_156" id="Page_156">[156]</a></span> -the less. I only want you to remember the circumstances—to -acquit me of any intention to do you harm. I am -no despoiler of women, even my enemies will tell you -so. That, thank God, was not a part of my heritage. I -have always looked on women of your sort with a kind -of wonder. I have never understood them—nor they me. -I thought of them as I thought of pictures or of children, -things set apart from the grubby struggle for material -and moral existence. I liked to be with them because -their ways fell in pleasant places and because, in respecting -them, I could better learn to respect myself. -God knows, I respected you—honored you! Don’t say -you don’t believe that!”</p> - -<p>“I—I think you did——” she stammered.</p> - -<p>“I tried to show you how much. You knew what -was in my heart. I would have died for you—or lived -for you, if you could have wished it so.”</p> - -<p>He paused a moment, his brows tangled in thought.</p> - -<p>“I learned many things up there—things that neither -men nor women nor books had taught me, something of -the directness and persistence of the forces of nature, the -binding contract of a man’s body with his soul, the -glorification of labor and the meaning of responsibility. -I was happy there—happy as I had never been before. -I wanted the days to be longer so that I could work -harder for you, and my pride in your comfort was the -greatest pride I have ever known. You were my fetich—the -symbol of Intention. You made me believe in myself, -and defied the Enemy that was plucking at my elbow. -I could have lived there always and I prayed in secret -that we might never be found. I wanted you to believe -in me as I was already beginning to believe in myself. -Whatever I had been—here in the world—up there at -least I was a success. I wanted to prove it thoroughly—to<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_157" id="Page_157">[157]</a></span> -kill, that you might eat and be warm—to hew and -build, that you might be comfortable. I wanted a shrine -for you, that I might put you there and keep you—always. -I worshiped you, Jane, God help me, as I worship -you now.”</p> - -<p>His voice trembled and broke as he paused.</p> - -<p>“I—I must not listen to you, Mr. Gallatin,” she said -hurriedly, for her heart was beating wildly.</p> - -<p>“I worship you, Jane,” he repeated, “and I ask -for nothing but your pardon.”</p> - -<p>“I—I forgive you,” she gasped.</p> - -<p>“I’m glad of that. I’ll try to deserve your indulgence,” -he said slowly. He stopped again, and it was a -long time before he went on. The brougham was moving -rapidly up the Avenue and the turmoil of night sounds -was fading into silence. Forty-second Street was already -behind them, and the fashionable restaurants were gay -with lights. He seemed to realize then that Jane would -soon reach her destination, and he went on quickly, as -though there were still much that he must say in the -little time left to him to say it in. “I suppose it would -be too much if I asked you to let me see you once in -a while,” he said quickly, as though he feared her refusal.</p> - -<p>“I—I’ve no doubt that we’ll meet, Mr. Gallatin.”</p> - -<p>“I don’t mean that,” he persisted. “I don’t think -I’ll be—I don’t think I’ll go around much this winter. -I want to talk to you, if you’ll let me. I—I can’t give -you up—I need you. I need your belief in me, the incentive -of your friendship, your spell to exorcise the—the -Thing that came between us.”</p> - -<p>“I am trying to forget that,” she murmured. “It -would be easier if—if you hadn’t said what you did.”</p> - -<p>“What did I say? I don’t know,” he said passionately.</p> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_158" id="Page_158">[158]</a></span></p> - -<p>“That you—you loved me. It was the brute in you -that spoke—not the man, the beast that kissed— Oh!” -She brushed the back of her hand across her eyes. “It -was not you! The memory of it will never go.”</p> - -<p>He hung his head in shame.</p> - -<p>“No, no, don’t!” he muttered. “You’re crucifying -me!”</p> - -<p>“If you had not said that——”</p> - -<p>“It was monstrous. It was madness, but it was -sweet.”</p> - -<p>“Love is not brutal—does not shame—nor frighten,” -she said slowly. “You had been so—so clean—so -calm——”</p> - -<p>“It was Arcadia, Jane,” he whispered, “your Arcadia -and mine. It was the love in me that spoke, whatever -I said—the love of a man, or of a beast, if you like. -But it spoke truly. There were no conventions there but -those of the forest, no laws but those of the heart. I had -known you less than a week, and I had known you always. -And you—up there—you loved me. Yes, it’s true. Do -you think I couldn’t read in your eyes?”</p> - -<p>“No, no,” she protested. “It isn’t true. I—I didn’t -love you—I don’t——”</p> - -<p>He had captured one of her hands and was leaning -toward her, his voice close at her ear, vibrant with emotion.</p> - -<p>“You loved me—up there, Jane. The forest knew. -The stream sang of it. It was in Kee-way-din and the -rain. It was part of the primeval, when we lived a thousand -years ago. Don’t you remember? I read it in your -eyes that night when I came in with the deer. You ran -out to meet me, like the cave-woman to greet her man. -I was no longer the fugitive who had built your hut, or<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_159" id="Page_159">[159]</a></span> -made your fires. You had learned that I was necessary to -you, in other ways, not to your body—but to your spirit.”</p> - -<p>“No. It’s not true.”</p> - -<p>“That night you fed me—watched by me. I saw your -eyes in my dreams, the gentleness in them, their compassion, -their perfect womanliness. Such wonderful -dreams! And when I awoke you were still there. I -wanted to tell you then that I knew—but I couldn’t. It -would have made things difficult for you. Then I got -sick——”</p> - -<p>“Don’t, Mr. Gallatin!”</p> - -<p>He had taken her in his arms and held her face so -that her lips lay just beneath his own.</p> - -<p>“Tell me the truth. You loved me then. You love -me now? Isn’t it so?”</p> - -<p>Her lips were silent, and one small tear trembled on -her cheeks. But he kissed it away.</p> - -<p>“Look up at me, Jane. Answer. Whatever I am, -whatever I hope to be, you and I are one—indivisible. It -has been so since the beginning. There is no brute in me -now, dear. See. I am all tenderness and compassion. -One fire burns out another. I’ll clean your lips with new -kisses—gentle ones—purge off the baser fire. I love you, -Jane. And you——?”</p> - -<p>“Yes—yes,” she whispered faintly. “I do love you. -I—I can’t help it.”</p> - -<p>“Do you want to help it?”</p> - -<p>“No. I don’t want to help it.”</p> - -<p>“Kiss me, Jane.”</p> - -<p>She raised her moist lips to his and he took them.</p> - -<p>Past and Future whirled about their ears, dinning the -alarm, but they could not hear it, for the voice of the -present, the wonderful present was singing in their hearts.<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_160" id="Page_160">[160]</a></span> -The brougham rolled noiselessly on, and they did not -know or care. Fifth Avenue was an Elysian Field, and -their journey could only end in Paradise.</p> - -<p>“Say it again,” he whispered.</p> - -<p>She did.</p> - -<p>“I can’t see your eyes, Jane. I want to see them now. -They’re like they were—up there—aren’t they? They’re -not cold, or scornful, or mocking, as they’ve been all -evening—not cruel as they were—in the Park? It’s you, -isn’t it? Really you?”</p> - -<p>“Yes, what’s left of me,” she sighed. “It’s so sweet,” -she whispered. “I’ve dreamed of it—but I didn’t think it -could ever be. I was afraid of you——”</p> - -<p>“Oh, Jane! How cruel you were!”</p> - -<p>“I had to be. I <em>had</em> to hurt you.”</p> - -<p>“Why?”</p> - -<p>“Because of my own pain. I wanted to make you -suffer—as I suffered—only more.”</p> - -<p>“I did. Much more. You’re not afraid of me now?”</p> - -<p>“No, no. I’m not afraid of you. I shouldn’t be—be -where I am, if I were.”</p> - -<p>He took pains to give her locality a new definiteness.</p> - -<p>“I’m not—what you thought I was?” he asked after -that.</p> - -<p>“No—yes—that is—I don’t know——”</p> - -<p>“Jane!”</p> - -<p>“I mean—I don’t believe I ever thought you anything -but what you are.”</p> - -<p>“You blessed child. And what am I?”</p> - -<p>“A—a person. A dark-haired person—with a—face.”</p> - -<p>“Is that all?”</p> - -<p>“No. And an unshaven chin, a soiled flannel shirt, -and a brown felt hat with two holes punched in it.”</p> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_161" id="Page_161">[161]</a></span></p> - -<p>“Have I always been that?”</p> - -<p>“Yes—always.”</p> - -<p>“You liked that—that person better than you do -this one?”</p> - -<p>“I’m—not sure.” She straightened suddenly in his -arms and drew away to look at him. “Why—I’ve only -known you—I only met you a few hours ago. It’s dreadful -of me—Mr. Gallatin.”</p> - -<p>“Phil,” he corrected.</p> - -<p>“Phil, then. The suddenness of everything—I’m not -quite sure of myself——”</p> - -<p>“I’m not either. I’m afraid I’ll wake up.”</p> - -<p>“You’re not the person with the glowering eyes,” she -went on, “and the—the stubbly chin—or the slouch hat -and smelly pipe——”</p> - -<p>“I’m too happy to glower. I couldn’t if I wanted to. -But I’ve got the hat and the smelly pipe. I can make -the chin stubbly again—if you’ll only wait a few days.”</p> - -<p>“I don’t think I—I’d like it stubbly now.”</p> - -<p>He laughed. But she stopped him again.</p> - -<p>“I—I wish you’d tell me——”</p> - -<p>She paused and he questioned.</p> - -<p>“Something bothers me dreadfully.”</p> - -<p>“What?”</p> - -<p>“You didn’t think—when you—came with me to-night—that -I could be convinced—that you could—could -win so easily, did you?”</p> - -<p>“No, dear. I didn’t—I——”</p> - -<p>“Quickly—or I shall die of shame.”</p> - -<p>“I had no hope—none at all. I just wanted you to -know how things were with me. Thank God, you listened.”</p> - -<p>“How could I do anything else but listen—in a -brougham—I couldn’t have jumped out into the street. -Besides, you might have jumped, too.”</p> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_162" id="Page_162">[162]</a></span></p> - -<p>“I <em>would</em> have,” he said grimly.</p> - -<p>“It would have made a scene.”</p> - -<p>“I hadn’t thought of that.”</p> - -<p>“And the coachman—Mrs. Pennington would have -known. Oh, don’t you see? Mrs. Pennington only introduced -us to-night——”</p> - -<p>She drew away from him and looked out of the carriage -window. They had reached a neighborhood which -was unfamiliar to her, where the houses were smaller and -the lights less frequent, and upon the left-hand side there -was no Park.</p> - -<p>“There is some mistake,” she said a little bewildered. -“We have come a long way.”</p> - -<p>He followed her look and laughed outright.</p> - -<p>“We’re above the Park,” he said, opening the door. -And then to the coachman. “You got the wrong number.”</p> - -<p>“One Hundred and Twentieth, sir,” came a voice -promptly.</p> - -<p>“<em>One Hundred and Twenty!</em> Where are we now, -Dawson?”</p> - -<p>“Hundred and Ten, sir.”</p> - -<p>Gallatin laughed, but Jane had sunk back in her -corner in confusion.</p> - -<p>“I said <em>Seventieth</em> distinctly,” she murmured. “I’m -<em>sure</em> I did.”</p> - -<p>“You’d better turn now,” said Gallatin to the man.</p> - -<p>“Where to, sir?”</p> - -<p>“To the Battery——”</p> - -<p>“Mr. Gal—Phil!” cried Jane.</p> - -<p>“I beg pardon, sir,” said Dawson.</p> - -<p>Gallatin concealed his delight with difficulty.</p> - -<p>“We’ve come too far, Dawson,” he said. “Miss -Loring lives in Seventieth Street.”</p> - -<p>“I’m sorry, sir,” came a voice.</p> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_163" id="Page_163">[163]</a></span></p> - -<p>Gallatin shut the door and the vehicle turned.</p> - -<p>Jane sat very straight in her corner and her fingers -were rearranging her disordered hair.</p> - -<p>“Oh, Phil,—I’m shamed. How <em>could</em> I have let him -go past——”</p> - -<p>“There are no numbers on the streets of Paradise.”</p> - -<p>“It must be frightfully late.”</p> - -<p>“—or watches in the pockets of demigods——”</p> - -<p>“<em>Will</em> you be serious!”</p> - -<p>“Demigods are too happy to be serious.”</p> - -<p>“That poor horse——”</p> - -<p>“A wonderful horse, a horse among horses, but he -goes too fast. He’ll be there in no time. Can’t we take -a turn in the Park?”</p> - -<p>He stretched his hand toward the door, but she seized -him by the arm.</p> - -<p>“I forbid it. If Mrs. Pennington knew—” she -stopped again in consternation. “Phil! Do you think -that Nellie Pennington——”</p> - -<p>“I don’t know. She’s a wonderful woman—keeps -amazing horses—extraordinary coachmen——”</p> - -<p>“Could she have told the man—to mistake me—purposely?”</p> - -<p>“I think so,” he said brazenly. “She’s capable of -anything—anything—wonderful wom——”</p> - -<p>“Phil, I’ll be angry with you.”</p> - -<p>“No, you can’t.”</p> - -<p>He took her in his arms again and she discovered that -what he said was true. She didn’t want to be angry. -Besides, what did it matter, about anything or anybody -else in the world.</p> - -<p>“I don’t know how this could have happened. I’ve -hated you, Phil,” she confessed after a while. “Oh, how -I’ve hated you!”</p> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_164" id="Page_164">[164]</a></span></p> - -<p>“No.”</p> - -<p>“Oh, yes. It’s true. I hated you. I really did. -You were the living emblem of my disgrace. When you -got in here beside me to-night, I loathed you. I’m still -angry with myself. I can’t understand how I could have -yielded so—so completely.”</p> - -<p>“It all happened a thousand years ago.”</p> - -<p>“Yes, I know it. Up there—I seemed to remember -that.”</p> - -<p>“So did I—the same stream, the same rocks, the -forest primeval.”</p> - -<p>“And the voices——”</p> - -<p>“Yes. You couldn’t change things. They were meant -to be—from the beginning.”</p> - -<p>She drew closer into his arms and whispered.</p> - -<p>“It frightens me a little, though.”</p> - -<p>“What?”</p> - -<p>“That it has happened in spite of me. That I had no -power to resist.”</p> - -<p>“Do you want to resist?”</p> - -<p>“No, not now—not now.”</p> - -<p>“You make me immortal. There’s no need to be -frightened for me or for you. The strength of the ages -is in me, Jane. I’ll win out, dear,” he whispered. “I’ll -win out. For you—for us both.”</p> - -<p>“I believe it,” she sighed. “It’s in you to win. I’ve -known that, too. You must put the—the Enemy to rout, -Phil. I’ll help you. It’s my Enemy as well as yours now. -We’ll face it together—and it will fall. I know it will.”</p> - -<p>He laughed.</p> - -<p>“God bless you for that. I’m not afraid of it. We’ve -conjured it away already. You’ve put me in armor, Jane. -We’ll turn its weapons aside.”</p> - -<p>“Yes, I’m sure of it.”</p> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_165" id="Page_165">[165]</a></span></p> - -<p>She looked up at him and by the glow of a street -lamp he saw that she was afraid no longer, for in her -eyes was a light of love and faith unalterable.</p> - -<p>She could not know, nor did he, that outside in the -darkness beside their vehicle, his weapons sheathed, baffled -and thwarted for the moment, but still undismayed, strode -the Enemy.</p> - -<hr class="chap" /> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_166" id="Page_166">[166]</a></span></p> - - - - -<div class="chapter"> -<h2><a name="XIV" id="XIV">XIV</a><br /> -<small>THE JUNIOR MEMBER</small></h2> -</div> - - -<p class="cap">The offices of Kenyon, Hood and Gallatin were in -the Mills Building, and consisted of six rooms, one -for each of the members of the firm, and three for -the clerks, stenographers and library. They were plainly -but comfortably furnished, and gave no token of extraordinary -prosperity or the lack of it. In no sense did -they resemble the magnificent suites which were maintained -elsewhere in the building by more precocious firms -which had discovered the efficacy of the game of “bluff,” -and which used it in their business with successful consistency. -And yet there was an air of solidity here which -indicated a conservatism more to the liking of the class -of people who found use for the services of Kenyon, Hood -and Gallatin.</p> - -<p>John Kenyon, the senior member, belonged to that -steadily decreasing class of lawyers who look upon their -profession as a calling with traditions. He belonged to -an older school of practitioners which still clung to the -ethics of a bygone generation. The business of many big -corporations went up in the elevator which passed before -the door of John Kenyon’s private office to a floor above, -where its emissaries could learn how to take the money that -belonged to other people without being jailed, or, having -been jailed, how they could most quickly be freed to obtain -the use of their plunder. But Mr. Kenyon made no effort -to divert this tide. He wanted no part of it in his office.<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_167" id="Page_167">[167]</a></span> -The corporate interests which he represented were for the -most part those which required his services to resist the -depredations planned upstairs.</p> - -<p>John Kenyon would have been a great lawyer but for -the lack of one important ingredient of greatness—imagination. -His knowledge of the law was extraordinary. -His mind was crystal-clear, analytical but not inventive, -judicial but not prophetic. He would have graced the -robes of a Justice of the Supreme Bench; but as a potent -force in modern affairs he was not far from mediocrity. -He had begun his career in the office of Philip Gallatin’s -grandfather, had been associated with Philip Gallatin’s -father, but with the passing of the old firm he had opened -offices of his own. The initiative which he lacked had -been supplied by Gordon Hood, a brisk Bostonian of the -omniscient type; and the accession of young Philip Gallatin -four years ago had done still more to supply the ingredients -which modern conditions seemed to require. It -had meant much to John Kenyon to have Phil in the firm, -for the perspective of Time had done little to dim the -luster which hung about the name of Gallatin and the -junior member had shown early signs that he, too, was -possessed of much of the genius of his forebears.</p> - -<p>Kenyon had watched the development of the boy with -mingled delight and apprehension and, with the memory -of the failings of his ancestors fresh in his mind, had done -what he could to avert impending evil. It was at his -advice that young Gallatin had gone to the Canadian -woods, and he had noted with interest and not a little -curiosity his return to his desk two months ago sobered -and invigorated. Phil had plunged into the work which -awaited him with quiet intention, and the way he had -taken hold of his problems and solved them, had filled -the senior partner with new hopes for his future. He<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_168" id="Page_168">[168]</a></span> -loved the boy as he could have loved a son, as he must -love the son of Evelyn Westervelt, and it had taken much -to destroy John Kenyon’s belief in Phil’s ultimate success. -But this last failure had broken that faith. Through the -efforts of Gordon Hood the firm had won the suit for -which Phil Gallatin had prepared it, but it was an empty -victory to John Kenyon, who had seen during the preparation -of the case Phil Gallatin’s chance, his palingenesis—the -restitution of all his rights, physical and moral.</p> - -<p>Fully aware of John Kenyon’s attitude toward him, -for two weeks Philip Gallatin had remained uptown and, -until his dinner at Mrs. Pennington’s, to which he had -gone in response to especial pleading, had hidden himself -even from his intimates. He had sent word to John Kenyon -that he was indisposed, but both men knew what his -absence meant. John Kenyon had been the one rock to -which Phil Gallatin had tied, the one man with whom he -had been willing to talk of himself, the one man of all his -friends from whom he would even take a reproach. It -was on John Kenyon’s account, more even than on his own, -that Gallatin so keenly suffered for his failure at the -critical moment. The time had indeed come for a reckoning, -and yesterday Gallatin had planned to retire from -the firm and save his senior partner the pains of further -responsibility on his account. He had been weighed in -the balance, a generous balance with weights which favored -him, and had been found wanting.</p> - -<p>But last night a miracle had happened and the visit -of renunciation which he had even planned for this very -morning had been turned into one of contrition and appeal. -And difficult as he found the interview before him, -he entered the office with a light step and a face aglow with -the new resolution which had banished the somber shadow -that for so long had hung about him.</p> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_169" id="Page_169">[169]</a></span></p> - -<p>It was early, and the business of the day had just -begun. At his appearance several of the stenographers -looked up from their work and scrutinized him with interest, -and the chief clerk rose and greeted him.</p> - -<p>“Good morning, Tooker,” he nodded cheerfully. “Is -Mr. Kenyon in yet?”</p> - -<p>“No, sir. It’s hardly his time——”</p> - -<p>“Please tell him I’d like to see him if he can spare me -a moment.”</p> - -<p>Then he entered a door which bore his name and -closed it carefully behind him, opened his desk, glanced -at his watch, made two or three turns up and down the -room and then took up the telephone book, Logan—Lord—Lorimer, -Loring. There it was. 7000 Plaza. He -hesitated again and then rang up the number.</p> - -<p>It was some moments before the butler consented to -get Miss Loring, and when he did she did not recognize -his voice.</p> - -<p>“Who is it?” she asked.</p> - -<p>“Can’t you guess?”</p> - -<p>“Oh, Phil! I didn’t know you at all. Where are -you?”</p> - -<p>“At the office.”</p> - -<p>“Already! And I’m not out of bed!”</p> - -<p>“Did I wake you? I’m sorry——”</p> - -<p>“I’m glad. I didn’t mean to go to sleep, but I did -sleep, somehow——”</p> - -<p>“I haven’t been asleep. I couldn’t——”</p> - -<p>“Why not?”</p> - -<p>“It’s so much pleasanter to be awake.”</p> - -<p>“I think so, too, but then I dreamed, Phil.”</p> - -<p>“Pleasant dreams?”</p> - -<p>“Oh, beautiful ones, full of demigods and things.”</p> - -<p>“What things?”</p> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_170" id="Page_170">[170]</a></span></p> - -<p>“Enchanted broughams. Oh, how did it happen, -Phil?”</p> - -<p>“It had to happen.”</p> - -<p>“I can’t believe it yet.”</p> - -<p>He laughed. “If I were there I’d try to convince -you.”</p> - -<p>“Yes, I think you could. I’m willing to admit that.”</p> - -<p>“Are you sorry?”</p> - -<p>“N-o. But I’m so used to being myself. I can’t -understand. It’s strange—that’s all. And I’m glad you -called me. I’ve had a terrifying feeling that you must -be somebody else, too.”</p> - -<p>“I <em>am</em> somebody else.”</p> - -<p>“I mean somebody I don’t know very well.”</p> - -<p>“There’s a remedy for that.”</p> - -<p>“What?”</p> - -<p>“Doses of demigod. Repeat every hour.”</p> - -<p>“Oh——!”</p> - -<p>“Don’t you like the prescription?”</p> - -<p>“I—I think so.”</p> - -<p>“Then why not try it?”</p> - -<p>“I—I think I ought to, oughtn’t I?”</p> - -<p>“I’m sure of it. In a day or so the symptoms you -speak of will entirely disappear.”</p> - -<p>“Are you sure?”</p> - -<p>“Positive.”</p> - -<p>“I—I think they’re less acute already. You really -<em>are</em> you, aren’t you?”</p> - -<p>“If I wasn’t, you wouldn’t be <em>you</em>, don’t you see?”</p> - -<p>“Yes, and I’d be frightfully jealous if I had been -somebody else.” She laughed. “Oh, Phil! What a conversation! -I hope no one is listening.”</p> - -<p>“I’m sure they’re not. They couldn’t understand -anyway.”</p> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_171" id="Page_171">[171]</a></span></p> - -<p>“Not unless they’re quite mad—as we are. What are -you doing? Working?”</p> - -<p>“Yes, drawing a deed for an acre in Paradise.”</p> - -<p>“Don’t be foolish. Who for?”</p> - -<p>“Me. And there’s a deed of trust.”</p> - -<p>“I’ll sign that.”</p> - -<p>“We’ll both sign it. It’s well secured, Jane. Don’t -you believe me?”</p> - -<p>“Yes, I do,” slowly.</p> - -<p>There was a pause and then he asked, “When can I -see you?”</p> - -<p>“Soon.”</p> - -<p>“This afternoon?”</p> - -<p>“I’ve a luncheon.”</p> - -<p>“And then——”</p> - -<p>“Tea at the——Oh, Phil, I’ll have to cut that. -There’s a dance to-night, too, the Ledyards’.”</p> - -<p>“This is getting serious.”</p> - -<p>“What can I do? I’ve been frightfully rude already. -Can’t you go?”</p> - -<p>“Not sufficiently urged.”</p> - -<p>“Then I shan’t either. I don’t want to go. I want—the -acre of Paradise.”</p> - -<p>“Where will I meet you, Jane?”</p> - -<p>“Here—at four.”</p> - -<p>“I’ll be there.”</p> - -<p>“Until then, good-by, and, Phil——”</p> - -<p>“Yes.”</p> - -<p>“Please wear that flannel shirt, disreputable hat -and——”</p> - -<p>“And the beard?”</p> - -<p>“No—not the beard. But I want to be convinced -there’s no mistake.”</p> - -<p>“I’d rather convince you without them.”</p> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_172" id="Page_172">[172]</a></span></p> - -<p>“Oh, I’ve no doubt you will,” she sighed. “There’s -so much I’ve got to say to you, Phil. I won’t know where -to begin——”</p> - -<p>“Just where you stopped.”</p> - -<p>“But I—I wasn’t saying anything—just then. I -couldn’t. There—there were reasons.”</p> - -<p>He laughed gayly.</p> - -<p>“I’ve still other reasons.”</p> - -<p>“Oh!”</p> - -<p>“Convincing ones.”</p> - -<p>“Phil, I won’t listen. Good-by!”</p> - -<p>“Good-by.”</p> - -<p>“Hadn’t we better go for a walk?” she asked.</p> - -<p>“No—please——”</p> - -<p>“Oh, very well,” with a tone of resignation. “There—you -see, I’m submitting again. At four, then. Good-by.” -She cut off and he hung up the receiver, sitting -for a long while motionless, looking out of the window. He -took out his watch and was examining it impatiently when -the chief clerk came in.</p> - -<p>“Mr. Kenyon will see you now, Mr. Gallatin,” he said.</p> - -<p>John Kenyon paused in the reading of his mail and -looked up over the half-moons in his glasses when Gallatin -appeared at the door.</p> - -<p>“Come in, Phil,” he said quietly, offering his hand. -He sat down at his desk again and formally indicated the -chair nearest it. His manner was kindly and full of an -old-fashioned dignity, indicating neither indifference nor -encouragement, and this seemed to make Philip Gallatin’s -position if anything more difficult and painful. Instead -of sitting, Gallatin turned toward the window and stood -there.</p> - -<p>“I’ve come back, Uncle John,” he muttered.</p> - -<p>Kenyon glanced up at him, the calm judicial glance<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_173" id="Page_173">[173]</a></span> -of a man who, having no venal faults himself, tolerates -them in others with difficulty. There was no family relationship -between the men, and Gallatin’s use of the familiar -term at this time meant much, and something in Phil Gallatin’s -pose arrested Kenyon’s eye, the jaw that had -worked forward and was now clamped tightly by its -throbbing muscles, the bulk of the squared shoulders and -the decision with which one hand clasped the chair-back.</p> - -<p>“I’m glad of that, Phil,” he said. “I was on the -point of thinking you had given me up.”</p> - -<p>“I had. I had given you up. I haven’t been down -here because I knew it wasn’t necessary for me to come -and because I thought you’d understand.”</p> - -<p>“I understood.”</p> - -<p>“I wrote you two or three letters, but I tore them up. -I wanted to sever my connection with the firm. I wanted -to save you the pain of thinking about me any longer. -I knew I hadn’t any right here, that I haven’t had any -right here for a long while—two or three years, that I -had been taking my share of fees I had never earned, and -that it was only through your friendship for me that -I’ve been encouraged to stay as long as this. I wanted -to save you the pain of talking to me again——”</p> - -<p>“I’ve never denied you my friendship, Phil. I don’t -deny it now. I only thought that you might have——”</p> - -<p>Gallatin turned swiftly and raised his hand.</p> - -<p>“Don’t, Mr. Kenyon! For God’s sake, don’t reproach -me,” he said ardently. “Reproaches won’t help me—only -wound. They’ve already been ringing in my ears for -days—since the last time——” he paused.</p> - -<p>“Never mind.”</p> - -<p>Gallatin strode the length of the room, struggling for -the control of his voice, and when he came back it was to -stand facing the senior partner quite composed.</p> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_174" id="Page_174">[174]</a></span></p> - -<p>“There isn’t a man in the world who would do as -much for one who merited so little. I’m not going over -that. Words can’t mean much from me to you; but what -I would like you to know is that I don’t want to go out of -the firm, and that, if you’ll bear with me, I want another -chance to prove myself. I’ve never promised anything. -You’ve never asked me to. Thank God, that much of -my self-respect at least is saved out of the ruins. I want -to give my word now——”</p> - -<p>“Don’t do that,” said Kenyon hurriedly. “It isn’t -necessary.”</p> - -<p>“Yes, I must. I’ve given it to myself, and I’ll keep -it, never fear. That—was the last—the very last.”</p> - -<p>Kenyon twisted his thin body in his chair and looked -up at the junior member keenly, but as he did so his eyes -blurred and he saw, as thirty years ago he had seen the -figure of this boy’s father standing as Phil Gallatin was -standing enmeshed in the toils of Fate, gifted, handsome, -lovable—and yet doomed to go, a mental and physical -ruin, before his time. The resemblance of Philip Gallatin -to his father was striking—the same high forehead, heavy -brows and deep-set eyes, the same cleanly cut aquiline -nose, and heavy chin. There were lines, too, in Phil -Gallatin’s face, lines which had appeared in the last two -years which made the resemblance even more assured. -And yet to John Kenyon, there seemed to be a difference. -There was something of Evelyn Westervelt in him, too, -the clean straight line of the jawbone and the firmly -modeled lips, thinner than the father’s and more decisive.</p> - -<p>“I’m glad of that, Phil,” he said slowly.</p> - -<p>“I’m not asking you to believe in me again. Broken -faith can’t be repaired by phrases. I don’t want you to -believe in me until I’ve made good. I want to come in -here again on sufferance, as you took me in six years ago,<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_175" id="Page_175">[175]</a></span> -without a share in the business of the firm that I don’t -make myself or for which I don’t give my services. I -want to begin at the bottom of the ladder again and -climb it rung by rung.”</p> - -<p>“Oh, I can’t listen to that. Our partnership agreement——”</p> - -<p>“That agreement is canceled. I don’t want a partnership -agreement. It’s got to be so. I’ve been thinking -hard, Mr. Kenyon. It’s responsibility I need——”</p> - -<p>“You’re talking nonsense, Phil. You did more work -in the Marvin case than either Hood or myself.”</p> - -<p>“Perhaps, but I didn’t win it,” he said quickly.</p> - -<p>“The firm did.”</p> - -<p>“I can’t agree with you. I’ll come in this office on -the conditions I suggest, or I must withdraw. My mind is -made up on that. I don’t want to go, and it won’t be -easier for me anywhere else. This is where I belong, and -this is where I want to fight my battle, if I can do it in -my own way without the moral or financial help of any -one—of you, least of all.”</p> - -<p>Gallatin paused and walked, his head bent, the length -of the room. John Kenyon followed him with his eyes, -then turned to the window and for a long while remained -motionless. Philip Gallatin returned to the vacant chair -and sat leaning forward eagerly.</p> - -<p>The senior partner turned at last, his kind homely -face alight with a smile.</p> - -<p>“You don’t need my faith, my boy, if you’ve got faith -of your own, but I give it to you gladly. Give me your -hand.” He got up and the two men clasped hands, -and Phil Gallatin’s eyes did not flicker or fade before the -searching gaze of the other man. It was a pact, none the -less solemn for the silence with which one of them entered -into it.</p> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_176" id="Page_176">[176]</a></span></p> - -<p>“You’re awake, Phil?” he asked.</p> - -<p>“Yes, that’s it, Uncle John. Awake,” said Gallatin.</p> - -<p>“I’m glad—I’m very glad. And I believe it. I’ve -never been able to get used to the idea of your being really -out of here. We need you, my boy, and I’ve got work -for you, of the kind that will put your mettle to the test. -There’s a great opportunity in it, and I’ll gladly turn it -over to you. ‘<i lang="la" xml:lang="la">Sic itur ad astra</i>,’ my boy. Will you take -it?”</p> - -<p>“Gladly. A corporation case?”</p> - -<p>“<i>Sanborn et al. vs. The Sanborn Mining Company.</i> -Sit here and I’ll explain it to you.”</p> - -<hr class="chap" /> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_177" id="Page_177">[177]</a></span></p> - - - - -<div class="chapter"> -<h2><a name="XV" id="XV">XV</a><br /> -<small>DISCOVERED</small></h2> -</div> - - -<p class="cap">Women have a code of their own, a system of -signals, a lip and sign language perfectly intelligible -among themselves, but mystifying, as -they purpose it to be, to mere man. Overweening husbands, -with a fine air of letting the cat out of the bag, -have been known to whisper that these carefully guarded -secrets are no secrets at all, and that women are merely -children of a larger growth, playing at hide and seek -with one another (and with their common enemy) for the -mere love of the game, that there are no mysteries in their -natures to be solved, and that the vaunted woman’s instinct, -like the child’s, is as apt to be wrong as often as it -is right. Of course, no one believes this, and even if one -did, man would go his way and woman hers. Woman -would continue to believe in the accuracy of her intuitions -and man would continue to marvel at them. Woman -would continue to play at hide and seek, and man would -continue to enjoy the game.</p> - -<p>Call them by what name you please, instinct, intuition, -or guesswork, Mrs. Richard Pennington had succeeded by -methods entirely feminine, in discovering that Phil Gallatin’s -Dryad was Jane Loring, that he was badly in love -with her and that Jane was not indifferent to his attentions. -Phil Gallatin had not been difficult to read, and -Mrs. Pennington took a greater pride in the discovery of -Jane’s share in the romance, for she knew when Jane left<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_178" id="Page_178">[178]</a></span> -her house in company with Phil that her intuition had not -erred.</p> - -<p>Jane Loring had kissed her on both cheeks and called -her “odious.”</p> - -<p>This in itself was almost enough, but to complete the -chain of evidence, she learned that Dawson, her head -coachman, in the course of execution of her orders, had -gone as far North as 125th Street before his unfortunate -mistake of Miss Loring’s number had been discovered by -the occupants of the brougham.</p> - -<p>Mrs. Pennington realized that this last bit of evidence -had been obtained at the expense of a breach of hospitality, -for she was not a woman who made a practice -of talking with her servants, but she was sure that the -ends had justified the means and the complete success of -her maneuver more than compensated for her slight loss -of self-respect in its accomplishment.</p> - -<p>But while her discovery pleased her, she was not without -a sense of responsibility in the matter. She had been -hoping for a year that a girl of the right kind would come -between Phil and the fate he seemed to be courting, for -since his mother’s death he had lived alone, and seclusion -was not good for men of his habits. She had wanted Phil -to meet Jane Loring, and her object in bringing them together -had been expressed in a definite hope that they -would learn to like each other a great deal. But now that -she knew what their relations were, she was slightly oppressed -by the thought of unpleasant possibilities.</p> - -<p>It was in the midst of these reflections that Miss -Jaffray was announced, and in a moment she entered the -room with a long half-mannish, half-feline stride and took -up her place before the mantelpiece where she stood, her -feet apart, toasting her back at the open fire. Mrs. Pennington -indicated the cigarettes, and Nina Jaffray took<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_179" id="Page_179">[179]</a></span> -one, rolling it in her fingers and tapping the end of it on -her wrist to shake out the loose dust as a man would do.</p> - -<p>“I’m flattered, Nina,” said Nellie Pennington. “To -what virtue of mine am I indebted for the earliness of this -visit?”</p> - -<p>“I slept badly,” said Nina laconically.</p> - -<p>“And I’m the anodyne? Thanks.”</p> - -<p>“Oh, no; merely an antidote.”</p> - -<p>“For what?”</p> - -<p>“Myself. I’ve got the blues.”</p> - -<p>“You! Impossible.”</p> - -<p>“Oh, yes. It’s quite true. I’m quite wretched.”</p> - -<p>“Dressmaker or milliner?”</p> - -<p>“Neither. Just bored, I think. You know I’ve been -out five years now. Think of it! And I’m twenty-four. -Isn’t that enough to make an angel weep?”</p> - -<p>“It’s too sad to mention,” said Mrs. Pennington. -“You used to be such a nice little thing, too.”</p> - -<p>Nina Jaffray raised a hand in protest.</p> - -<p>“Don’t, Nellie, it’s no joke, I can tell you. I’m <em>not</em> -a nice little thing any longer, and I know it. I’m a hoydenish, -hard-riding, loud-spoken vixen, and that’s the -truth. I wish I <em>was</em> a ‘nice little thing’ as you call it, -like Jane Loring for instance, with illusions and hopes -and a proclivity for virtue. I’m not. I like the talk of -men——”</p> - -<p>“That’s not unnatural—so do I.”</p> - -<p>“I mean the talk of men among men. They interest -me, more what they say than what they are. They’re -genuine, somehow. You can get the worst and the best -of them at a sitting. One can’t do that with women. -Most of us are forever purring and pawing and my-dearing -one another when we know that what we want to -do is to spit and claw. I like the easy ways of men—collectively,<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_180" id="Page_180">[180]</a></span> -Nellie, not individually, and I’ve come and gone -among them because it seemed the most natural thing in -the world to do. I’ve made a mistake. I know it now. -When a girl gets to be ‘a good fellow’ she does it at -the expense either of her femininity or her morals. And -men make the distinction without difficulty. I’m ‘a good -fellow,’” she said scornfully, “and I’m decent. Men -know it, but they know, too, that I have no individual -appeal. Why only last week at the Breakfast the Sackett -boy clapped me on the back and called me ‘a jolly fine -chap.’ I put him down, I can tell you. I’d rather he’d -called me anything—anything—even something dreadful—if -it had only been feminine.”</p> - -<p>She flicked her cigarette into the fire and dropped into -a chair.</p> - -<p>Mrs. Pennington laughed.</p> - -<p>“All this is very unmanly of you, Nina.”</p> - -<p>“Oh, I’m not joking. You’re like the others. Just -because I’ve ridden through life with a light hand, you -think I’m in no danger of a cropper. Well, I am. I’ve -had too light a hand, and I’m out in the back-stretch with -a winded horse. <em>You</em> didn’t make that mistake, Nellie. -Why couldn’t you have warned me?”</p> - -<p>Mrs. Pennington held off the embroidery frame at -arm’s length and examined it with interest.</p> - -<p>“You didn’t ask me to, Nina,” she replied quietly.</p> - -<p>“No, I didn’t. I never ask advice. When I do, it’s -only to do the other thing. But you might have offered -it just the same.”</p> - -<p>“I might have, if I knew you wouldn’t have followed -it.”</p> - -<p>“No,” reflectively. “I think I’d have done what you -said. I like you immensely, you know, Nellie. You’re a -good sort—besides being everything I’m not.”</p> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_181" id="Page_181">[181]</a></span></p> - -<p>“Meaning—what?”</p> - -<p>“Oh, I don’t know. You’re all woman, for one thing.”</p> - -<p>“I have had two children,” smiled the other toward -the ceiling. “I could hardly be anything else.”</p> - -<p>“Is <em>that</em> it?” asked the visitor; and then after a -pause, “I don’t like children.”</p> - -<p>“Not other people’s. You’d adore your own.”</p> - -<p>“I wonder.”</p> - -<p>Mrs. Pennington’s pretty shoulders gave an expressive -shrug.</p> - -<p>“Marry, my dear. Nothing defines one’s sex so accurately. -Marry for love if you can, marry for money if -you must, but marry just the same. You may be unhappy, -but you’ll never be bored.”</p> - -<p>Nina Jaffray gazed long into the fire.</p> - -<p>“I’ve been thinking about it,” she said. “That’s -what I came to see you about.”</p> - -<p>“Oh, Nina, I’m delighted!” cried Nellie Pennington -genuinely, “and so flattered. Who, my dear child?”</p> - -<p>“I’ve been thinking—seriously.”</p> - -<p>“You must have had dozens of offers.”</p> - -<p>“Oh, yes, from fortune hunters and gentlemen jockeys, -but I’m not a philanthropic institution. Curiously enough -my taste is quite conventional. I want a New Yorker—a -man with a mind—with a future, perhaps, neither a prig -nor a rake—human enough not to be too good, decent -enough not to be burdensome—a man with weaknesses, if -you like, a poor man, perhaps——”</p> - -<p>“Nina. Who?”</p> - -<p>Miss Jaffray paused.</p> - -<p>“I thought I’d marry Phil Gallatin,” she said quietly.</p> - -<p>Mrs. Pennington laid her embroidery frame down and -looked up quickly. Nina Jaffray’s long legs were extended -toward the blaze, but her head was lowered and her<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_182" id="Page_182">[182]</a></span> -eyes gazed steadily before her. It was easily to be seen -that she was quite serious—more serious than Mrs. Pennington -liked.</p> - -<p>“Phil Gallatin! Oh, Nina, you can’t mean it?”</p> - -<p>“I do. There isn’t a man in New York I’d rather -marry than Phil.”</p> - -<p>“Does he know it?”</p> - -<p>“No. But I mean that he shall.”</p> - -<p>“Don’t be foolish. You two would end in the ditch -in no time.”</p> - -<p>Nina straightened and examined her hostess calmly.</p> - -<p>“Do you think so?” she asked at last.</p> - -<p>“Yes, I think so——” Nellie Pennington paused, and -whatever it was that she had in mind to say remained -unspoken. Instinct had already warned her that Nina -was the kind of girl who is only encouraged by obstacles, -and it was not her duty to impose them.</p> - -<p>“Stranger things have happened, Nellie,” she laughed.</p> - -<p>“But are you sure Phil will—er—accept you?”</p> - -<p>“Oh, no, and I shan’t be discouraged if he refuses,” -she went on oblivious of Nellie Pennington’s humor.</p> - -<p>“Then you <em>do</em> mean to speak to him?”</p> - -<p>“Of course.” Nina’s eyes showed only grave surprise -at the question. “How should he know it otherwise?”</p> - -<p>“Your methods are nothing, if not direct.”</p> - -<p>“Phil would never guess unless I told him. For a -clever man he’s singularly stupid about women. I think -that’s why I like him. Why shouldn’t I tell him? What’s -the use of beating around the bush? It’s such a waste of -time and energy.”</p> - -<p>Mrs. Pennington’s laugh threw discretion to the winds.</p> - -<p>“Oh, Nina, you’ll be the death of me yet. There -never was such a passion since the beginning of Time.”</p> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_183" id="Page_183">[183]</a></span></p> - -<p>“I didn’t say I <em>loved</em> Phil Gallatin,” corrected Nina -promptly. “I said I’d decided to marry him.”</p> - -<p>“And have you any reason to suppose that he shares -your—er—nubile emotions?”</p> - -<p>“None whatever. He has always been quite indifferent -to me—to all women. I think the arrangement might be -advantageous to him. He’s quite poor and I’ve got more -money than I know what to do with. He’s not a fool, and -I’m—Nellie, I’m not old-looking or ugly, am I? Why -shouldn’t he like me, if he doesn’t like any one else?”</p> - -<p>“No reason in the world, dear. <em>I’d</em> marry you, if <em>I</em> -were a man.”</p> - -<p>Mrs. Pennington took to cover uneasily, conscious that -here was a situation over which she could have no control. -She was not in Phil Gallatin’s confidence or in Jane Loring’s, -and the only kind of discouragement she could offer -must fail of effectiveness with a girl who all her life had -done everything in the world that she wanted to do, and -who had apparently decided that what she now wanted -was Phil Gallatin. Nina’s plans would have been amusing -had they not been rather pathetic, for Nellie Pennington -had sought and found below her visitor’s calm exterior, a -vein of seriousness, of regret and self-reproach, which was -not to be diverted by the usual methods. Did she really -care for Phil? Clever as Mrs. Pennington was, she could -not answer that. But she knew that it was a part of Nina -Jaffray’s methods to do the unexpected thing, so that her -sincerity was therefore always open to question. Nellie -Pennington took the benefit of that doubt.</p> - -<p>“Has it occurred to you, Nina, that he may care for -some one else?”</p> - -<p>Her visitor turned quickly. “You don’t think so, do -you?” she asked sharply.</p> - -<p>“How should <em>I</em> know?” Mrs. Pennington evaded.</p> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_184" id="Page_184">[184]</a></span></p> - -<p>“I’ve thought of that, Nellie. Who was Phil’s wood-nymph? -He’s very secretive about it. I wonder why.”</p> - -<p>“I don’t believe there <em>was</em> a wood-nymph,” said Mrs. -Pennington slowly. “Besides, Phil would hardly be in -love with that sort of girl.”</p> - -<p>“That’s just the point. What sort of a girl was she? -What reason could Phil have for keeping the thing a -secret? Was it an amourette? If it was, then it’s Phil -Gallatin’s business and nobody else’s. But if the girl was -one of Phil’s own class and station, like——”</p> - -<p>“Miss Loring,” announced the French maid softly -from the doorway.</p> - -<p>Nina Jaffray paused and an expression of annoyance -crossed her face. She straightened slowly in her chair, -then rose and walked across the room. Mrs. Pennington -hoped that she would go, but she only took another -cigarette and lit it carefully.</p> - -<p>“You’re too popular, Nellie,” she said, taking a chair -by the fire.</p> - -<p>Mrs. Pennington raised a protesting hand.</p> - -<p>“Don’t say that, Nina. For years I’ve been dreading -that adjective. When a woman finds herself popular with -her own sex it means that she’s either too passée to be -dangerous, too staid to be interesting, or too stupid to be -either. Morning, Jane! So glad! Is it chilly out or are -those cheeks your impersonal expression of the joy of -living?”</p> - -<p>“Both, you lazy creature! How do you do, Nina? -This is my dinner call, Mrs. Pennington. I simply couldn’t -wait to be formal.”</p> - -<p>“I’m glad, dear.” And then mischievously, “Did you -get home safely?”</p> - -<p>“Oh, yes, but it was a pity to take <em>poor</em> Mr. Gallatin -so far out of his way,” she replied carelessly.</p> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_185" id="Page_185">[185]</a></span></p> - -<p>“<em>Poor</em> Phil! That’s the fate of these stupid ineligible -bachelors—to act as postilion to the chariot of Venus. -Awfully nice boy, but so uninteresting at times.”</p> - -<p>“Is he? I thought him very attractive,” said Jane. -“He’s one of <em>the</em> Gallatins, isn’t he?”</p> - -<p>“Yes, dear, the last of them. I was afraid you -wouldn’t like him.”</p> - -<p>“Oh, yes, I do. Quite a great deal. He’s a friend of -yours, isn’t he, Nina?”</p> - -<p>“I’ve known him for ages,” said Miss Jaffray dryly; -and then to Mrs. Pennington, “Why shouldn’t Jane like -him, Nellie?”</p> - -<p>“Oh, I don’t know,” she finished with a gesture of -graceful retirement. Their game of hide and seek was -amusing, but hazardous in the present company, so she -quickly turned the conversation into other channels.</p> - -<p>Nina Jaffray and Jane Loring had met in the late -autumn at a house party at the Ledyards’ place in Virginia, -and while their natures were hardly concordant, -each had found in the other some ingredients which made -for amiability. Jane’s interest had been dictated by -curiosity rather than approval, for Nina Jaffray was like -no other girl she had ever met before. Whatever her manners, -and these, Jane discovered, could be atrocious, her -instincts were good, and her intentions seemed of the best. -To Miss Jaffray, Jane Loring was ‘a nice little thing’ -who had shown a disposition not to interfere with other -people’s plans, a nice little thing, amiable and a trifle -prudish, for whom Nina’s kind of men hadn’t seemed to -care. They had not been, and could never be intimate, -but upon a basis of good fellowship, they existed with -mutual toleration and regard.</p> - -<p>Nellie Pennington, from her shadowed corner, watched -the two girls with the keenest of interest and curiosity.<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_186" id="Page_186">[186]</a></span> -Nina Jaffray sat with hands clasped around one upraised -knee, her head on one side listening carelessly to Jane’s -enthusiastic account of the Ledyards’ ball, commenting -only in monosyllables, but interested in spite of herself -in Jane’s ingenuous point of view, aware in her own heart -of a slight sense of envy that she no longer possessed a -susceptibility to those fresh impressions.</p> - -<p>Nina was not pretty this morning, Nellie Pennington -thought. Hers was the effectiveness of midnight which -requires a spot-light and accessories and, unless in the -hunting field, midday was unkind to her; while Jane who -had danced late brought with her all the freshness of -early blossoms. But she liked Nina, and that remarkable -confession, however stagy and Nina-esque, had set her -thinking about Jane Loring and Mr. Gallatin. It was -a pretty triangle and promised interesting possibilities.</p> - -<p>Jane was still speaking when Nina interrupted, as -though through all that she had heard, one train of -thought had persisted.</p> - -<p>“What did you mean, Nellie, about Phil Gallatin -being ineligible?” she asked. “And I <em>know</em> you don’t -think him stupid. And why shouldn’t Jane Loring like -him? I don’t think I understand?”</p> - -<p>Nellie Pennington smiled. She had made a mistake. -Hide and seek as a game depends for its success upon the -elimination of the bystander.</p> - -<p>“I am afraid, of course, that Jane would be falling -in love with him,” she said lightly. And then, “That -would have been a pity. Don’t you think so, Nina?”</p> - -<p>“There’s hardly a danger of that,” laughed Jane, -“seeing that I’ve just—just been introduced to the man. -You needn’t be at all afraid, Nina.”</p> - -<p>“I’m not. Besides he’s awfully gone on a wood-nymph.<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_187" id="Page_187">[187]</a></span> -You saw him blush when I spoke of it at dinner -here—didn’t you, Jane?”</p> - -<p>“Yes, I did,” said Jane, now quite rosy herself.</p> - -<p>“Phil wouldn’t have blushed you know,” said Nina -confidently, “unless he was terribly rattled. He <em>was</em> -rattled. That’s what I can’t understand. Suppose he -did find a girl who was lost in the woods. What of it? -It’s nobody’s business but his own and the girl’s. I’d be -furious if people talked about me the way they’re talking -about Phil and that girl. I was lost once in the Adirondacks. -You were, too, in Canada only last summer, Jane. -You told me so down in Virginia and——”</p> - -<p>Jane Loring had struggled hard to control her emotion, -and bent her head forward to conceal her discomposure, -but Nina’s eyes caught the rising color which had -flowed to the very tips of her ears.</p> - -<p>“Jane!” cried Nina in sharp accents of amazed discovery. -“It was you!”</p> - -<p>The game of hide and seek had terminated disastrously -for Jane, and her system of signals, useful to deceive as -well as reveal had betrayed her. It was clearly to be -seen that further dissimulation would be futile, so she -raised her head slowly, the color gone from her cheeks.</p> - -<p>“Yes, it was I,” she said with admirable coolness. -“Meeting Mr. Gallatin here the other night reminded me -of it. That was one of the things I came to tell Mrs. -Pennington this morning. But I don’t suppose there’s -any reason why you shouldn’t know it, too, Nina. If it -hadn’t been for Mr. Gallatin I know I should have <em>died</em>. -You see, I had slipped and wrenched my ankle and, of -course, couldn’t move——”</p> - -<p>“It must have been terrible!” put in Nellie Pennington -in dire distress. “You poor child!”</p> - -<p>“I haven’t spoken of it,” Jane went on hurriedly,<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_188" id="Page_188">[188]</a></span> -“because there wasn’t any reason why I should. But -now, of course, that this story is going the rounds, it’s -just as well that people knew. It wasn’t necessary to tell -Mr. Gallatin my name up there, and until he met me in -New York he did not know who I was. That, of course, -is why the whole thing has seemed so mysterious.” She -paused and smiled rather obtrusively at her companions. -“It’s really a very trivial matter to make such a fuss -about, isn’t it?”</p> - -<p>“Absurd!” said Mrs. Pennington, with enthusiasm. -“I wouldn’t worry about it in the least.”</p> - -<p>“It <em>does</em> sound rather romantic, though,” laughed -Jane uneasily, “but it wasn’t a bit. We nearly starved -and <em>poor</em> Mr. Gallatin was almost dead with fatigue—when -they found us.”</p> - -<p>“Who found you?” asked Miss Jaffray.</p> - -<p>“The guides, of course.”</p> - -<p>“Oh!” said Nina.</p> - -<p>Nellie Pennington put down her embroidery and rose. -This wouldn’t do.</p> - -<p>“Jane,” she said laughing. “You make me wild with -envy. You’re a person to whom all sorts of interesting -things are always happening. And now I hear you’re -engaged to Coleman Van Duyn. Come, child, sit here and -tell me all about it.”</p> - -<p>“It’s not true. I’m very flattered, of course, -but——”</p> - -<p>“You’d better admit it. Nina won’t tell, will you, -Nina?”</p> - -<p>But Miss Jaffray had risen and was drawing on her -gloves.</p> - -<p>“Oh, no. I wouldn’t tell. Besides—you know I don’t -believe it.” She glanced at the clock, and brushed a speck -from her sleeve.</p> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_189" id="Page_189">[189]</a></span></p> - -<p>“I think I’ll be going on,” she said. “Good-by, Jane. -Nellie, I’ll see you at the ‘Pot and Kettle,’ won’t I?” and -went out of the room.</p> - -<p>Mrs. Pennington followed her to the upper landing -and when she had gone, returned thoughtfully to the -room.</p> - -<hr class="chap" /> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_190" id="Page_190">[190]</a></span></p> - - - - -<div class="chapter"> -<h2><a name="XVI" id="XVI">XVI</a><br /> -<small>BEHIND THE ENEMY’S BACK</small></h2> -</div> - - -<p class="cap">As she turned and came into the room again, Jane -Loring met her in the middle of the rug, seized her -in her arms, kissed her rapturously on both cheeks, -and confessed, though not without some hesitation, the -object of her visit. Nellie Pennington led her to a divan -near the window, and seated there holding one of her -visitor’s hands in both of hers, listened enchanted to the -full tale of Jane’s romance. Her delight was undisguised, -for Nina Jaffray’s rather frigid exit had already been -forgotten by them both.</p> - -<p>“Oh, Nellie, I’m so happy. I simply <em>had</em> to tell somebody. -I wanted to come here yesterday, but I couldn’t -muster up the courage.”</p> - -<p>“And I’m not really ‘odious’?” asked Mrs. Pennington.</p> - -<p>“No, no,” laughed Jane. “You’re a sister to the -angels. I hated him, Nellie, that night. I would have -died rather than let him know I cared for him—and yet—I -<em>did</em> let him know it——”</p> - -<p>“Love and hate are first cousins. Love hates because -it’s afraid, Jane.”</p> - -<p>“Yes, that’s true. I was afraid of myself—of -him——”</p> - -<p>“Not now?”</p> - -<p>“No,” proudly. “Not even of Fate itself. We’ll -face whatever is to come—together. I believe in him—utterly.”</p> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_191" id="Page_191">[191]</a></span></p> - -<p>Nellie Pennington kissed her.</p> - -<p>“So do I, Jane. I always have—and in you. I can’t -tell you how glad I am that you have told me all this. -Flattered, too, child. I’m rather worldly wise, perhaps, -even more so than your mother——”</p> - -<p>“I haven’t told mother,” Jane put in with sudden -demureness.</p> - -<p>“Take my advice and do so immediately. Omit nothing. -Your mother must put a stop to this story by telling -the truth.”</p> - -<p>“Mother, you know, had hoped that I would marry -Coleman Van Duyn. She doesn’t approve of Phil, and -father—” Jane paused as she remembered her father’s -estimate of Phil Gallatin—“and neither does my father,” -she finished thoughtfully.</p> - -<p>“Oh, it will work out some way; such things do. But -tell them at once.”</p> - -<p>“I think I had already decided that. But it isn’t -going to be easy. With me—with mother, my father is -the soul of kindness, but with men——” She paused.</p> - -<p>“Phil must take his chance.”</p> - -<p>“Yes, but father must respect him.”</p> - -<p>“Phil must earn his respect.”</p> - -<p>Jane was silent for a moment.</p> - -<p>“My father has a sharp tongue at times,” she went -on. “He has mentioned Phil Gallatin’s name—unpleasantly. -I couldn’t stand hearing him spoken about in that -way. I couldn’t listen. I couldn’t tolerate it—even from -my father. I have made a decision and father must -abide by it. He must accept Phil as I have accepted him. -I am satisfied. A man’s past is his own. He can only -give a girl his future. I used to think differently, but I’m -content with that. Phil’s future is mine, and I’ll take my -half of it, whatever it is.”</p> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_192" id="Page_192">[192]</a></span></p> - -<p>At the mention of her father, Jane had risen and -walked restlessly about, but as she finished speaking she -turned and faced her companion squarely. Nellie Pennington -rose and took her again in her arms.</p> - -<p>“You’ll do, Jane. I’m not afraid for you—for either -of you. Let me help you. I want to. I don’t think I -could be happier if I were in love myself. He’s worthy of -you. I’m sure of it. Shall you marry him soon, dear?”</p> - -<p>Jane colored adorably.</p> - -<p>“No—not soon, I think. We have not spoken of that. -Phil wants time—to prove—to show—everybody——”</p> - -<p>She paused and Nellie Pennington breathed a sigh of -relief. Her responsibilities had oppressed her.</p> - -<p>“Let him, Jane,” she urged quickly. “It’s better so. -You’re very young. There’s plenty of time. A year or -two and then——”</p> - -<p>“I’ll marry him when he asks me to,” Jane finished -simply.</p> - -<p>Nellie Pennington pressed her hands warmly, and they -sat for a long time side by side while Jane told of all that -had happened in the woods, including the sudden and unpleasant -termination of her idyl. Nellie Pennington listened -soberly, and learned more of the definiteness with -which fate had placed the steps of these two young people -upon the same pathway into the future. Love dwelt in -Jane’s eyes and confidence, a trust and belief in Phil -Gallatin that put Nellie Pennington’s rather assertive -indorsement of him to the blush. She realized now that -below Jane Loring’s placid exterior, there was a depth of -feeling, a quiet strength and resolution of which she had -never even dreamed; for she, too, had thought Jane a -“nice little thing”—a pretty, amiable, cheerful soul -without prejudices, who would add much to her own joy -of life, and to the intimate circle of young people she<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_193" id="Page_193">[193]</a></span> -chose to gather around her. Some of the girl’s faith -found its way into her own heart and she saw Phil now, -as she had always hoped to see him, taking his place -among the workers of the world, using the brains God had -given him, and accomplishing the great things that she -knew had always been within his power to accomplish.</p> - -<p>When Jane rose to go, Mrs. Pennington detained her -a moment longer.</p> - -<p>“How well do you know Nina Jaffray?” she asked -slowly.</p> - -<p>“Oh, we’ve always got along admirably, because we’ve -never interfered with each other, I think. But I don’t -understand her—nor does she me. Why do you ask?”</p> - -<p>“Oh—I don’t know——”</p> - -<p>“I thought you liked her, Nellie.”</p> - -<p>“I do. I like everybody who doesn’t bore me. Nina -amuses me because she keeps me in a continual state of -surprise. That’s all very well so long as her surprises -are pleasant ones; but when she wishes to be annoying, -I assure you she can be amazingly disagreeable.”</p> - -<p>“I imagine so. But I don’t think we’ll have differences—at -least I hope——”</p> - -<p>“Don’t be too intimate—that’s all. Understand?”</p> - -<p>They kissed; after which Jane departed, and on the -way uptown found herself wondering from time to time -whether Nellie Pennington could have meant something -more than Jane thought she did. But in her state of -exaltation nothing could long avail to divert her spirit -from its joyous flight among the enchanted realms that -had been discovered to her. That afternoon late, it was -only going to be very late in the afternoon she now remembered, -Phil Gallatin was to walk home with her from -somebody’s tea, to-morrow they were to dine at the Dorsey-Martin’s, -and late in the week there was the party at the<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_194" id="Page_194">[194]</a></span> -“Pot and Kettle.” After that—but what did it matter -what happened after that? Each day, she knew, was to -be more wonderful than the one that had gone before and -it was not well to question the future too insistently. -Sufficient unto the day was the good thereof, and Solomon -indeed was not arrayed—inwardly at least—as Jane was.</p> - -<p>Taking Mrs. Pennington’s advice, as soon as she -reached home she sought her mother’s room. Mrs. Loring -was reclining at full length on a portable wooden table -which had been set up in the middle of her large apartment, -and an osteopath was busy manipulating her small -body. There wasn’t really anything the matter with her -except social fag, but she chose this method of rehabilitating -her tired nerves instead of active exercise which -she abhorred. It was almost with a feeling of pity that -Jane sat beside her mother when the practitioner had departed, -for she knew that a scene would follow her confidences. -And she was not mistaken; for when half an -hour later, Jane went to her own room, her mother was -in a state of collapse upon her bed, and Jane’s nerves -were singing like taut wires, while on her mind were unpleasantly -impressed the final words of maternal recrimination. -But Jane knew that in spite of the violence -of her mother’s opposition, she was very much less to be -dreaded than her father, and that by to-morrow she would -be reconciled to her daughter’s point of view and even -might be reckoned upon as an ally. Nor would she speak -to Mr. Loring without her daughter’s acquiescence. This -Jane had no intention of giving, for she was sure that -a meeting of her father and Phil, which must, of course, -ensue at once, was not to be looked forward to with pleasurable -expectation.</p> - -<p>It was therefore in no very happy mood that Jane -met Phil Gallatin late that afternoon at the Suydams’<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_195" id="Page_195">[195]</a></span> -tea whence he went home with her. She had said nothing -of her interview with her mother, and was relieved to -learn at the house that Mrs. Loring had gone out.</p> - -<p>She led Phil back into the library and they sat before -the open fire.</p> - -<p>“What is it, Jane?” he asked. “Are you regretting——?”</p> - -<p>“No,” she smiled. “There isn’t room in my heart -for regret. It’s full of—other things.”</p> - -<p>“I’m very dense. Can you prove it?”</p> - -<p>“I’ll try.”</p> - -<p>The davenport was huge, but only one end of it complained -of their weight.</p> - -<p>“Phil, are you <em>sure</em> there is no mistake?”</p> - -<p>“Positive.”</p> - -<p><a href="#image03">“And you never cared for any one else?”</a></p> - -<div class="figcenter" style="width: 405px;"> -<a id="image03"> - <img src="images/image03.jpg" width="405" height="600" alt="" title="" /> -</a><br /> -<div class="caption"><a href="#Page_195">“‘And you never cared for any one else?’”</a></div> -</div> - -<p>“Never.”</p> - -<p>“Not Nina Jaffray?”</p> - -<p>“No, why do you ask?”</p> - -<p>“She once told me you had a boy-and-girl affair.”</p> - -<p>“Oh, that! She used to tease me and I would wash -her face in the snow. That’s Nina’s idea of mutual affection.”</p> - -<p>“It isn’t her idea now, is it?”</p> - -<p>“I’m sure I don’t know. You’ll have to ask Larry -Kane.”</p> - -<p>“And you don’t ever think about her?”</p> - -<p>“No—except with vague alarm for the safety of the -species.”</p> - -<p>Jane laughed. “I don’t want you to be unkind,” she -said, but was not displeased.</p> - -<p>There was a silence in which Gallatin peered around -the great room and his eyes smiled as they sought her -face again.</p> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_196" id="Page_196">[196]</a></span></p> - -<p>“What are you thinking of?” she asked.</p> - -<p>“Of this shelter—and another.”</p> - -<p>“Up among the pine trees? Oh, how white and cold it -must be there now! It’s ours though, Phil, so personal——”</p> - -<p>“I’ll build another—here in New York.”</p> - -<p>“Not like this?”</p> - -<p>“No—hardly—” he smiled.</p> - -<p>“I’m glad of that. This house oppresses me. It’s so -big—so silent and yet so noisy with the money that has -been spent on it. I don’t like money, Phil.”</p> - -<p>“That’s because you’ve never felt the need of it. -I’m glad you don’t, though. You know I’m not very well -off.”</p> - -<p>“I don’t suppose Daddy would ever let me starve,” -she laughed.</p> - -<p>His expression changed and he chose his words deliberately, -his face turned toward the fire.</p> - -<p>“It isn’t my intention to place you in any such position,” -he said with curious precision. “I don’t think you -understand. It isn’t possible for me to accept anything -from your father, except yourself, Jane. I’ll take you -empty-handed as I first found you—or not at all.”</p> - -<p>“But even then you know it was <em>my</em> saucepan——”</p> - -<p>But he shook his head. “It isn’t a question of saucepans -now.”</p> - -<p>“You’re not fair, Phil,” she murmured soberly. “Is -it my fault that father has become what he is? Why -shouldn’t I help? I have something of my own—some -stock in——”</p> - -<p>He closed her lips with a kiss.</p> - -<p>“I’ve got to have my own way. Can’t you understand?” -he whispered earnestly. “It’s my sanity I’m -fighting for—sanity of body and mind, and the medicines -are toil—drudgery—responsibility. I’ve never known<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_197" id="Page_197">[197]</a></span> -what work really meant. One doesn’t learn that sort of -thing in the crowd I’ve been brought up with. It’s only -the money a fellow makes himself that does him any good. -I’ve seen other fellows raised as I was—losing their hold -on life—slipping into the quagmire. I always thought I -could pull up when I liked—when I got ready. But when -I tried—I found I couldn’t.”</p> - -<p>He paused and Jane pressed his hand in both of hers. -But he went on decisively, “Desperate illnesses need -desperate remedies, Jane. I learned that—up there with -you. I’ve been ill, but I’ve found the cure and I’m taking -it already. Downtown I’ve cut myself off from all financial -support. I shan’t have a dollar that I cannot make. I’m -driven to the wall—and I’m going to fight.”</p> - -<p>He paused and then turned and looked into her eyes. -“That’s why it is that I want you to come to me empty-handed. -I want to remember every hour of the day that -on my efforts alone your happiness depends—<em>your</em> peace -of mind, <em>your</em> future.”</p> - -<p>“Yes, I understand—but it might be made easier——”</p> - -<p>“There isn’t any easy way. And, whatever my other -sins, I wouldn’t climb to fortune on a woman’s shoulders. -I’ve nothing to offer you but my love——”</p> - -<p>“It’s enough.”</p> - -<p>“No, I came into your life a pauper—a derelict—an -idler—a dr——”</p> - -<p>“Don’t, Phil,” she whispered, her fingers on his lips.</p> - -<p>“I shall come to you sane and whole or I shall not -come to you. I ask nothing of you. You must make me -no promises.”</p> - -<p>“I don’t see how you can prevent that,” she smiled. -“I shall make them anyway.”</p> - -<p>“No, you’re not promised to me.”</p> - -<p>“I am.”</p> - -<p>“No.”</p> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_198" id="Page_198">[198]</a></span></p> - -<p>“I don’t see how you can prevent my promising. I -promise to love, honor and obey——”</p> - -<p>“Then obey at once and stop promising.”</p> - -<p>“I won’t——”</p> - -<p>“Then what validity has a promise, broken the -moment it’s made?” His logic was inevitable.</p> - -<p>“Cherish, then,” she evaded.</p> - -<p>He held her away from him, looked into her eyes and -laughed. “If it establishes no precedent—er—you may -cherish me at once.”</p> - -<p>“What does cherish mean?”</p> - -<p>He showed her.</p> - -<p>“I’m afraid the precedent is already established, -Phil,” she sighed. She sank back in his arms and he -kissed her tenderly.</p> - -<p>“I can’t stop seeing you, Jane,” he whispered at her -ear. “You renew me, give me new faith in myself, new -hope for the future. I know that I oughtn’t to have the -right, but I can’t give you up. I need you. When I’m -with you, I wonder how there could ever be any sin in the -world. Your eyes are so clear, dear, like the pool—<em>our</em> -pool in the woods and my image in them is as clear as they -are. Whatever I’ve said I don’t want that image to go -out of them. Keep it there, Jane, no matter what happens, -and believe in me.”</p> - -<p>“I will,” she whispered, “whatever happens.”</p> - -<p>“I’ll come for you some day, dear,—soon perhaps. -I’m working on a big case, one that involves large issues. -All of me that isn’t yours, I’m giving to that—and that’s -yours, too.”</p> - -<p>“You’ll win, Phil.”</p> - -<p>“Yes, I’ll win. I must win,” he finished. “I <em>must</em>.”</p> - -<p>“Oh, Phil, dear,” she murmured. “It doesn’t matter. -What should I care whether you win or lose? Whatever<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_199" id="Page_199">[199]</a></span> -you have been, whatever you are or hope to be, you’ve -kissed me and I’m yours—until the end. What does it -matter what I promise—or what I fail to promise? I’ll -wait for you because you wish it, but I would tell the -world to-morrow if you’d let me.”</p> - -<p>“No,” he said quickly. “Not yet. I want to look -my Enemy in the eyes, Jane, for—for a long while. I’ll -stare him down until he slinks away—not into the shadows -behind me—but away—far off—so far that he shall not -find me again—or I him—ever.”</p> - -<p>“Is the Enemy here—now?” she questioned anxiously.</p> - -<p>“No,” he smiled. “Not here. I drove away from -him in an enchanted brougham.”</p> - -<p>Jane straightened and looked into the fire.</p> - -<p>“Phil.”</p> - -<p>“Yes.”</p> - -<p>“I’ve told Nellie Pennington and—and mother.”</p> - -<p>He folded his arms and gazed steadily into the fire.</p> - -<p>“What did they say?”</p> - -<p>“Nellie Pennington was pleased; mother was not,” -she said frankly.</p> - -<p>“I’m sorry to hear that. But I could hardly have -expected——”</p> - -<p>“It doesn’t matter,” she went on hastily. “I thought -you ought to know.”</p> - -<p>“I shall see Mr. Loring,” he said, his brows tangling.</p> - -<p>“Is it necessary—at once?”</p> - -<p>“I think so. There mustn’t be any false positions. -I hope I can make him understand. Obviously I can’t -visit the house of a man who doesn’t want me there.”</p> - -<p>Jane couldn’t reply at once. And when she did her -face was as serious as his own.</p> - -<p>“Won’t you leave that to me, Phil?” she said gently.</p> - -<hr class="chap" /> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_200" id="Page_200">[200]</a></span></p> - - - - -<div class="chapter"> -<h2><a name="XVII" id="XVII">XVII</a><br /> -<small>“THE POT AND KETTLE”</small></h2> -</div> - - -<p class="cap">The “Pot and Kettle” was up in the hills near -Tuxedo, within motoring distance of the city and -near enough to a station to be convenient to those -who were forced to depend upon the railroad. It was a -gabled farmhouse of an early period converted by the -young men of Colonel Broadhurst’s generation into its -latter-day uses as a club for dilettante cooks, where the -elect might come in small parties on snowy winter nights, -or balmy summer ones, and concoct with their own hands -the glasses and dishes most to their liking. Its membership -was limited and its fellows clannish. Most of the -younger members of the Club had been proposed on the -day of their birth, and accession at the age of twenty-one -to its rights and privileges had always been the signal for -a celebration with an intent both gastronomic and bibulous. -On club nights every one contributed his share to the -evening’s entertainment, and the right to mix cocktails, -make the salad dressing, or grill the bird was transmitted -by solemn act in writing from those of the older generation -to those of the new, who could not be dispossessed -of their respective offices without a proper delegation of -authority or the unanimous vote of those present.</p> - -<p>A member of the “Pot and Kettle” had the privilege -of giving private entertainments to a select few, provided -due notice was given in advance, and upon that occasion -the Club was his own and all other members were warned -to keep off the premises. This gave the “Pot and Kettle”<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_201" id="Page_201">[201]</a></span> -affairs a privacy like that which the member enjoyed in -his own home, for it was the unwritten law of the Club -that whatever passed within its doors was not to be -spoken of elsewhere.</p> - -<p>Egerton Savage had long ago discovered that no preparation -was necessary to make entertainments successful -at the “Pot and Kettle.” The number of a party given, -to the steward and his wife, all a host had to do was to -put on his white apron and await the arrival of his guests. -But to give an added zest to this occasion the fortunate -ones had been advised that the party was “for children -only.”</p> - -<p>And as children they came. Ogden Spencer, Larry -Kane and Coley Van Duyn in a motor direct from the -Cosmos Club arrived first and hurried upstairs with their -packages from the costumers to dress; the Perrines and -Betty Tremaine followed; then Mrs. Pennington, the -chaperon, and a limousine full of débutantes; Jane Loring -with Honora Ledyard and Bibby Worthington; and -Dirwell De Lancey with Clifford Benson, and Freddy -Sackett. Nina Jaffray had driven out alone. Most of -the girls had dressed at home and arrived ready for the -fray, and after a few finishing touches in the ladies’ dressing-room -upstairs were ready to greet their host, at the -foot of the stairs. Egerton Savage, his thin legs emerging -from velvet knee breeches, as <i>Little Boy Blue</i>, met -<i>Little Miss Muffett</i>, <i>Old King Cole</i>, <i>Old Mother Hubbard</i>, -<i>Peter Piper</i>, <i>Margery Daw</i>, <i>Bobby Shafto</i>, <i>Jack Spratt</i>, -<i>Solomon Grundy</i>, and all of the rest of the nursery crew. -Nellie Pennington’s débutantes scattered about the building -like a pack of inquisitive terriers, investigating every -nook and cranny, peering into cupboards and closets and -punctuating the clatter of arrival with pleasant little -yelps of delight.</p> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_202" id="Page_202">[202]</a></span></p> - -<p>As they all assembled at last in the kitchen, large -white aprons, which covered their costumes from neck to -foot, were handed out and the real business of the evening -was begun. Egerton Savage, chief-cook and arbiter, with -a shrewd knowledge of the capabilities of débutantes, -handed each of the young ladies a loaf of bread and a -long toasting fork, their mission being to provide the -toast, as well as the toasts of the night; and presently an -odor of scorching bread pervaded the place.</p> - -<p>Jane rebelled.</p> - -<p>“I simply <em>won’t</em> be subjected to such an indignity, -Mr. Savage,” she laughed. “I can cook—really I can.”</p> - -<p>He eyed her askant and laughed.</p> - -<p>“You must be <i>Mistress Mary, Quite Contrary</i>, aren’t -you?”</p> - -<p>“I am, and I <em>won’t</em> cook toast.”</p> - -<p>At last he commissioned her to poach the eggs.</p> - -<p>Larry Kane, a club member, as the <i>Infant Bacchus</i>, in -fleshlings and cheesecloth with a garland of grape-leaves -on his head, had already begun the concoction known as -the “Pot and Kettle punch,” an amber-colored fluid with -a fragrant odor of spices, and a taste that was mildness -itself, but in which there lurked the potent spell of the -wassail of many lands. It was against this punch that -Nellie Pennington had taken pains on the way out in the -machine, to warn her small brood; and some of those -young ladies who had already retired from the fire, stood -beside the mixer of ingredients, sniffing at the uncorked -bottles, making pretty faces and lisping in childish disapproval.</p> - -<p>Coleman Van Duyn, as <i>Little Jack Horner</i>, his scarlet -face rising like a winter sunset from his white apron, -was superintending the broiling of the lobsters; Dirwell -De Lancey, who proclaimed himself <i>Simple Simon</i>, was<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_203" id="Page_203">[203]</a></span> -carving cold turkey, Freddy Sackett was making the -salad-dressing; while Betty Tremaine, a very comely <i>Bo-Peep</i>, -was drying the lettuce leaves and crushing them to -the proper consistency between her slender pink fingers; -Yates Rowland stewed the terrapin; Percy Endicott -made the coffee; and Sam Purviance, with Nina Jaffray’s -help, made the cocktails.</p> - -<p>The festivities of supper were well under way before -Phil Gallatin arrived. It had been late before he could -leave the office, and so he had been obliged to come out by -train. After getting into costume he sought the room -eagerly for Jane and their eyes met in wireless telegraphy -across the table. The chairs beside her were occupied by -Worthington and Van Duyn, so he dropped into a chair -Savage offered him between Mrs. Pennington and Miss -Tremaine. His host thrust a cocktail in front of him -on the table, and Phil thanked him over his shoulder, but -when Savage had gone, he pushed it away. Nellie Pennington -realized that he looked a little tired and serious, -but made no comment. Gallatin had been working hard -all day and until the present moment had forgotten that -he had had no lunch. Food revived him and it was not -long before he could enter into the gay spirit of the company. -They were children, indeed. The cooking finished, -their white aprons had been discarded and loud was the -joy at the appearance of the men and eager the compliments -for the ladies. The babel of baby rattles and tin -whistles, discontinued for a time, arose again and <a href="#image01">the -table rang from end to end with joke and laughter</a>. -Bibby Worthington’s wig of <i>Bobby Shafto</i> got askew -and at an unfortunate moment was jostled off into the -salad-bowl, upon which his bald head received baptism in -fizz at the hands of the <i>Infant Bacchus</i>. Freddy Perrine, -who had had more than his share of punch, was shooting<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_204" id="Page_204">[204]</a></span> -butter-balls from the prongs of a fork at Kent Beylard’s -white shirt-front, for Beylard hadn’t had time to go to -the costumer. Dirwell De Lancey insisted upon singing -“The Low-Backed Car,” but was prevented from doing -so by the vehemence of his chorus which advised him to -get a limousine. Sam Purviance began telling a story -which seemed to be leading toward Montmartre when -Nellie Pennington rose from the table, and followed by -her buds, adjourned to another room. Here the sound -of a piano was immediately heard and the tireless feet of -the younger set took up the Turkey Trot where they had -left off at three o’clock the night before.</p> - -<p>No word had passed between Phil Gallatin and Jane, -and he had just gotten to his feet in pursuit of her when -Nina Jaffray stood in his way.</p> - -<p>“Hello, Phil,” she said. “I’ve been wanting to see -you.”</p> - -<p>“Me? I’m glad of that, Nina. You’re certainly a -corker in that get-up. What are you?”</p> - -<p>“I’m <i>Jill</i>. Won’t you help me fetch a pail of water?”</p> - -<p>“And have my crown broken? No, thanks. Besides -I couldn’t. It wouldn’t be in the part. You see I’m——</p> - -<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0">“‘Tommy Trot, the man of law,<br /></span> -<span class="i1">Who sold his bed to lay on straw.’”<br /></span> -</div></div> - -<p>“Are you? It isn’t true, is it, Phil? I heard you -were going out of the firm.”</p> - -<p>“Oh, no. I’ve been working, Nina. Sounds queer, -doesn’t it? Fact, though.”</p> - -<p>“There’s something I want to see you about, Phil. -I’ve been on the point of looking you up at the office.”</p> - -<p>“You! What is it?” he laughed. “Breach of -promise or alienation of the affections?”</p> - -<p>“Neither,” slowly. “Seriously—there’s something I<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_205" id="Page_205">[205]</a></span> -want to say to you.” Gallatin looked at her and she met -his eye fairly. “I’d like to talk to you here—now—if -you don’t mind.”</p> - -<p>“Oh—er—of course. But if it’s anything of a serious -nature—perhaps——”</p> - -<p>“I can speak here—will you follow me?”</p> - -<p>Gallatin glanced over his shoulder in the direction of -the room into which Jane had disappeared, but there was -nothing left but to follow, so he helped the girl find a -quiet spot on the back stairway where Nina settled herself -and motioned to him to a place at her feet. Gallatin -sat trying to conceal his impatience in the smoke of a -cigarette, and wondering how soon Nina would let him go -to Jane.</p> - -<p>“Phil, you and I have known each other a good many -years. We’ve always got along pretty well, haven’t we?”</p> - -<p>“Of course,” he nodded.</p> - -<p>“You’ve never cared much for girls and I’ve never -thought much about men—sentimentally I mean—but we -always understood each other and—well—we’re pretty -good friends, aren’t we?”</p> - -<p>“I’d be very sorry if I thought anything else,” he -said politely.</p> - -<p>She paused and examined his profile steadily.</p> - -<p>“You know, Phil, I’m interested in you. I think I’ve -always been interested—but I never told you so because—because -it seemed unnecessary. I thought if you ever -needed my friendship you’d come and ask me for it.”</p> - -<p>“I would—I mean, I do,” he stammered.</p> - -<p>“Something has been bothering me,” she went on -slowly. “The other morning at Nellie Pennington’s, Jane -Loring told us the truth about the Dryad story.”</p> - -<p>“Yes.”</p> - -<p>“And, of course, even though friendship doesn’t give<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_206" id="Page_206">[206]</a></span> -me the privilege of your confidence unless you offer it -voluntarily, I thought you might be willing to tell me -something——”</p> - -<p>“What, Nina?”</p> - -<p>“You’re not in love with—you’re not going to marry -Jane Loring, are you?”</p> - -<p>Gallatin smiled.</p> - -<p>“I’m hardly the sort of person any girl could afford -to marry,” he said slowly.</p> - -<p>“Does Jane Loring think so?” she persisted.</p> - -<p>“She has every reason to think so,” he muttered.</p> - -<p>“You’re not engaged?” she protested quickly.</p> - -<p>“No,” he said promptly.</p> - -<p>She gave a sigh of relief.</p> - -<p>“Oh—that’s all I wanted to know.”</p> - -<p>Something unfamiliar in the tones of her voice caused -him to look at his companion.</p> - -<p>“What did you want to know for, Nina?” he questioned.</p> - -<p>“Because if you <em>were</em> engaged—if you really were in -love with Jane, I wouldn’t care—I wouldn’t have the -right to speak to you in confidence.” She hesitated, looking -straight at the bare wall before her, but she smiled -her devil-may-care smile and went on with a touch of her -old manner. “I doubt if you really know me very well -after all. I don’t think anybody does. I’ve got a name -for playing the game wide open and riding roughshod -over all the dearest conventions of the dodos. But I’m -straight as a string, Phil, and there isn’t a man or woman -in the Cedarcroft or out that can deny it.”</p> - -<p>Gallatin smiled.</p> - -<p>“It wouldn’t be healthy for anybody to deny it.”</p> - -<p>“I don’t care much whether they deny it or not. -People who don’t like my creed are welcome to their own.<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_207" id="Page_207">[207]</a></span> -I won’t bother them and they needn’t bother me. But I -do care for my friends—and I’m true. You know that, -don’t you?”</p> - -<p>“Of course.”</p> - -<p>“And I’m not all hoyden, Phil.”</p> - -<p>“Who said you were?”</p> - -<p>“Nobody—but people think it.”</p> - -<p>“I don’t.”</p> - -<p>“I was hoping you’d say that. Inside of me I think -I’m quite womanly at times——”</p> - -<p>He smiled and looked at her curiously.</p> - -<p>“But I’m tired of riding through life on a loose -snaffle. I want to settle down and have a place of my -own and—and all that.”</p> - -<p>“I hadn’t an idea. Is that what you wanted to tell -me? Who is it, Nina?”</p> - -<p>“I’m not in love, you know, Phil,” she went on. -“I’ve watched the married couples in our set—those who -made love matches—or thought they did, those who married -for money or convenience, and those who—well—who -just married. There’s not a great deal of difference in the -result. One kind of marriage is just about as successful -or as unsuccessful as another. It’s time I married and -I’ve tried to think the thing out in my own way. I’ve -about decided that the successful marriage is entirely a -matter of good management—a thing to be carefully -planned from the very beginning.”</p> - -<p>Gallatin listened with dull ears. The girl beside him -was talking heresies. Happiness wasn’t to be built on -such a scientific formula. Love was born in Arcadia. He -knew. And Jane——</p> - -<p>“You know, Phil,” he heard Nina Jaffray saying -again, “I’m in the habit of speaking plainly, you may -not like my frankness, but you can be pretty sure that<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_208" id="Page_208">[208]</a></span> -I mean what I say. I’ve made up my mind to marry and -I wanted you to know about it so that you could think -it over.”</p> - -<p>“Me! Nina!” Gallatin started forward suddenly -aware of the personal note in her remarks. “You don’t -mean that I——”</p> - -<p>“I thought that you might like to marry me,” she -repeated coolly.</p> - -<p>“You can’t mean it,” he gasped. “That you—that -I——”</p> - -<p>“I mean nothing else. I’d like to marry you, Phil.”</p> - -<p>Gallatin laughed.</p> - -<p>“Really, Nina, I was almost on the point of taking you -seriously. You and I—married! Wouldn’t we have a -lark, though?”</p> - -<p>“I’m quite serious,” she insisted. “I’d like to marry -you, if you haven’t any other plans.”</p> - -<p>“Plans!” He searched her eyes again. “Why, -Nina, you silly child, you’ve never even—even flirted with -me, at least, not for years.”</p> - -<p>“That’s true. I couldn’t somehow. I couldn’t flirt -with anybody I cared for.”</p> - -<p>“Then you do—<em>care</em> for—me?” he muttered in bewilderment.</p> - -<p>“Don’t mistake me, Phil,” she put in. “I care for -you, yes, but I’m not in the least sentimental. I abhor -sentimentality. You’re simply the nearest approach I -have found to my idea of masculine completeness. You’re -not an ideal person by any means. Your vices are quite -brutal, but they don’t terrify me—and you’re pretty -well endowed with compensating virtues. It’s about time -you gathered in your loose reins and took to the turnpike. -I’d like to help you and I think I could.”</p> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_209" id="Page_209">[209]</a></span></p> - -<p>“I—I haven’t any doubt of it,” he stammered. -“Only——”</p> - -<p>“What?”</p> - -<p>“I’m not a marrying man, that’s all,” he blundered -on, still struggling with incomprehension.</p> - -<p>She remained silent a moment.</p> - -<p>“You say that, because you believe you oughtn’t to -marry, don’t you, Phil?”</p> - -<p>“I say it because I’m not going to marry—until I -know just where I stand—just what I’m worth in a long -game. Single, I haven’t hurt anybody but myself, but -I’m not going to let any woman——”</p> - -<p>He stopped suddenly. And then with an abrupt -gesture rose.</p> - -<p>“I can’t talk of this, Nina,” he said quickly. “You -must see it’s—it’s impossible. You’re not in love with -me—or likely to be——”</p> - -<p>“Oh, I’m in no hurry. I might learn,” she said -calmly.</p> - -<p>There was no refuge from her quiet insistence but in -laughter, and so, brutally, he took it.</p> - -<p>“Really, Nina, if I hadn’t known you all my life, I -could almost believe you serious.”</p> - -<p>“Don’t laugh! I am,” she said immovably.</p> - -<p>And now that it seemed to Gallatin there remained no -doubt that she meant it, he sat down again beside her -and took her hand in his, his face set in serious lines. He -liked Nina, but like many other persons had always -weighed her lightly. Even now he felt sure that, by to-morrow, -she would probably have forgotten the entire -conversation. But the situation was one that required a -complete understanding.</p> - -<p>“If I can believe you, you’ve succeeded in flattering<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_210" id="Page_210">[210]</a></span> -me a great deal. I’ve always been used to expect amazing -things of you, but I can’t say I’m quite prepared for the -extraordinary point of view on married life which you -ask me to share. I’ve always had another idea of marriage, -the same one that you have deep down in your -heart, for without it you wouldn’t be a woman. You’ll -marry the man you love and no other.”</p> - -<p>“And if the man I love won’t marry <em>me</em>?”</p> - -<p>“It will be time to settle that when you meet him.”</p> - -<p>“I’ve already met him.”</p> - -<p>Gallatin searched her eyes for the truth and was -again surprised when he found it in them. Her gaze -fell before his and she turned her head away, as though -the look he had seen in her eyes had shamed her.</p> - -<p>“It isn’t true, Nina. It can’t be——”</p> - -<p>“Yes,” she murmured. “It’s quite true. I think I’ve -pitied you a little, but I’m quite sure that I—I’ve cared -for you always.”</p> - -<p>There was a silence and then she heard,</p> - -<p>“God knows, I’m sorry.”</p> - -<p>There was a note of finality in his tone which affected -her strangely. It was not until then that she guessed the -truth.</p> - -<p>“You—you care for Jane Loring?”</p> - -<p>“Yes,” he said almost inaudibly. “I do.”</p> - -<p>He owed her that frankness.</p> - -<p>“Thanks,” she said quietly. “It’s strange I shouldn’t -have guessed. I—I didn’t think you cared for any one. -You never have, you know. And it never entered my head -that you could be really interested in—in a girl like Jane. -Even when I learned that you had been together in the -woods, I couldn’t believe—I don’t think I quite believe it -yet. She’s hardly your style——”</p> - -<p>She stopped and he remained silent, his head averted.</p> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_211" id="Page_211">[211]</a></span></p> - -<p>“Funny, isn’t it?” she went on. “Larry Kane wants -to marry me, I want to marry you, and you want to marry -Jane. Now if Jane would only fall in love with Larry!”</p> - -<p>She laughed and drew away from him, for over his -head she saw the figures of Jane Loring and Coleman Van -Duyn who had just entered the kitchen. Jane had glanced -just once in their direction and then had turned aside. -Nina glanced at Phil. He was unconscious of the presence -of the others—it almost seemed, unconscious of herself.</p> - -<p>All the mischief in her bubbled suddenly to the surface. -Jane Loring at least should see——</p> - -<p>“I’m sorry, Phil,” she murmured. “I think I’ll survive. -We can still be friends. I want one favor of you, -though.”</p> - -<p>He questioned.</p> - -<p>“Kiss me, will you, Phil?” she whispered.</p> - -<p>And Gallatin did; to turn in a moment and see Jane -Loring’s skirts go fluttering past the dining-room door, -through which, grinning broadly over his shoulder, Coleman -Van Duyn quickly followed her.</p> - -<hr class="chap" /> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_212" id="Page_212">[212]</a></span></p> - - - - -<div class="chapter"> -<h2><a name="XVIII" id="XVIII">XVIII</a><br /> -<small>THE ENEMY AND A FRIEND</small></h2> -</div> - - -<p class="cap">It was a moment before Gallatin realized the full -significance of the incident, but when he turned to -look at Nina, he found her leaning against the wall -convulsed with silent laughter.</p> - -<p>“You knew, Nina?” he said struggling for his self-control. -“You saw them—there?”</p> - -<p>“Oh, yes, I saw them,” she replied easily. “I couldn’t -help it very well.”</p> - -<p>“You asked me to—to kiss you!” he stammered, his -color rising.</p> - -<p>“Yes, I did. You never <em>had</em> kissed me before, you -know, Phil.”</p> - -<p>“You—you wanted her to see,” he asserted.</p> - -<p>“I didn’t mind her seeing—if that’s what you mean.”</p> - -<p>“You had no right——”</p> - -<p>She held up her hand with a mock gesture of command.</p> - -<p>“Don’t speak! You’ll say something you’ll regret. -It’s not often I ask a man to kiss me, and when I do I -expect a display of softer emotions. But anger—dismay! -I’m surprised at you. You’re really quite too rustic, or -is it rusty? Besides, you know, I’ve done you the greatest -of favors.”</p> - -<p>“Favors!” he exclaimed.</p> - -<p>“Precisely. In addition to accepting your—er—fraternal -benediction, I’ve succeeded in creating a diversion -in the ranks of the dear enemy. Jealousy is the vinegar -of the salad of love, Phil. Jane is quite sure to love -you madly now.”</p> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_213" id="Page_213">[213]</a></span></p> - -<p>“Come,” he said briefly, “let’s get out of this.”</p> - -<p>“You mustn’t use that tone to me. It’s extremely -annoying.”</p> - -<p>“You’re mischievous,” he growled.</p> - -<p>“Am I?” with derisive sweetness. “I hadn’t meant -to be. Perhaps my infatuation has blinded me. I’m really -very badly in love with you, Phil. And you must see that -it’s extremely unpleasant for me to discover that you’re in -love with somebody else. You know I can’t yield placidly. -I’m not the placid kind. I may be in advance of my -generation, but I’m sure if I had my way I’d abduct you -to-night in the motor and fly to Hoboken.”</p> - -<p>Gallatin laughed. He couldn’t help it. She was too -absurd. And her mocking effrontery made it difficult for -him to remember that a moment ago he had thought her -serious.</p> - -<p>“Fortunately, I am capable of moderating my emotions,” -she went on. “My heart may be beating wildly, -but behold me quietly submissive to your decision. All I -ask is that you won’t offer to be a brother to me, Phil. -I really couldn’t stand for that.”</p> - -<p>“Nina, you’re the limit.”</p> - -<p>“I know I am—I’m excited. It’s the outward and -visible expression of inward and spiritual dissolution. -What would you advise, Paris green or a leap from the -Metropolitan Tower? One exit is plebeian, the other -squashy; or had I better blow out the gas? Will you -see that my headlines are not too sentimental? Not, ‘She -Died for Love’; something like ‘Scorned—Social Success -Suicides’ or ‘Her Last Cropper,’ are more in my line. -Sorrowfully alliterative, if you like, but chastely simple. -Aren’t you sorry for me, Phil?”</p> - -<p>“Hardly. As the presentment of disappointed affection -you’re not a success. Your martyrdom has all the<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_214" id="Page_214">[214]</a></span> -aspects of a frolic at my expense. Don’t you think you’ve -made a fool of me long enough?”</p> - -<p>“Yes, I think so. I <em>have</em> made a fool of you, haven’t -I? I’m sorry. I didn’t intend to until I found that you -had made a fool of me. I wanted company.”</p> - -<p>Her humor changed as he turned away from her and -she restrained him with a hand on his arm, her eyes seeking -his.</p> - -<p>“You’re my sort, Phil, not hers,” she whispered earnestly. -“You’re a vagabond—a vagrant on life’s highway, -as I am—a failure, as I am, only a worse one. You’ve -tried to stem the tide against you, but you couldn’t. What -have you to do with Jane Loring’s bourgeois respectability? -Do you think you’ll be immune because of her? Do -you think that she can cleanse you of the blood of your -fathers and make you over on her own prim pattern? -You’re run in a different mold. What Jane Loring wants -is a stupid respectable Dodo, an impoverished patriarch -with an exclusive visiting list. Let her buy one in the open -market. The clubs are full of them.” She laughed aloud. -“What does Jane Loring know of you? What chance -have you——?”</p> - -<p>“I think I’ve heard enough, Nina,” said Gallatin. He -walked to the dining-room and stood, waiting for her to -pass before him. She paused, shrugged her shoulders carelessly -and, as she passed through the door, she leaned toward -him and whispered.</p> - -<p>“You’ll never marry her, Phil. Do you hear? -Never!”</p> - -<p>Gallatin inclined his head slightly and followed.</p> - -<p>The dance was in full swing, and outside in the enclosed -veranda a game of “Pussy Wants a Corner” had -come to an end because Sam Purviance insisted upon standing -in the middle of the floor and reciting tearfully the<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_215" id="Page_215">[215]</a></span> -tale of “Old Mother Hubbard and Her Dog.” Then they -tried charades which failed because the actors insisted on -disappearing into the wings and couldn’t be made to appear, -and because the audience found personal problems -more interesting. A game of “Follow My Leader,” led -by Larry Kane upstairs and down, developed such amazing -feats of gymnastics that Nellie Pennington rebelled.</p> - -<p>Phil Gallatin followed Jane with his eyes, but she refused -even to glance in his direction and he was very unhappy. -There seemed no chance of getting a word with -her, for when at the end of the dance he approached her, -she snubbed him very prettily and went out with Van -Duyn to sit among the palms at the end of the veranda. -Gallatin felt very much like the fool Nina had said he -was and wandered around from group to group joining -half-heartedly in their conversations, his uneasiness apparent -to any who chose to perceive. Several times Nina -Jaffray passed him smiling wickedly, and once she stopped -and whispered.</p> - -<p>“Hadn’t you better go home in my car, Phil? I don’t -believe there will be room for you in Jane’s.”</p> - -<p>He laughed with an air of unconcern he was very far -from feeling.</p> - -<p>“Thanks, I’m afraid you’d take me to Hoboken.”</p> - -<p>She went on to the dance and Gallatin watched her -until she disappeared. He was alone in the dining-room. -Through the door by which she had gone came the sound -of the piano and the chatter of gay voices. Through the -other door he could see a jovial group of his familiars -sitting around a table in the center of which was a tall -bottle bearing a familiar label, his Enemy enthroned as -usual in this company. He was like a vessel in the chop -of two tides, one of which would bring him to a safe port -and the other to sea.</p> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_216" id="Page_216">[216]</a></span></p> - -<p>He looked away, hesitated, then walked hastily to the -Colonial sideboard where he drew a cup of hot coffee and -drank it quickly. Then he followed Nina into the dancing-room.</p> - -<p>He waited impatiently until the dance was finished, and -then, when Jane Loring was left for a moment alone, with -more valor than discretion, went up to her.</p> - -<p>“Jane,” he whispered, “you’ve got to give me a moment -alone.”</p> - -<p>She turned away, but he stood in front of her again.</p> - -<p>“It’s all a mistake, if you’ll let me explain——”</p> - -<p>“Let me pass, please.”</p> - -<p>“No, not until you promise to listen to me—to-night. -I’ll go in your machine, and then——”</p> - -<p>“I’m sorry. There’s no room for you, Mr. Gallatin.”</p> - -<p>“I must see you to-night.”</p> - -<p>“No—not to-night,” and in lowered tones, “or any -other night.”</p> - -<p>“Jane, I——”</p> - -<p>“Let me pass, please.”</p> - -<p>The music began again and Percy Endicott at this -moment came up, claiming her for a partner. Before -Gallatin could speak again, Jane was in Endicott’s arms, -and laughing gayly, was sweeping around the room to -the measure of a two-step. Gallatin stared at her as -though he had not been able to believe his own ears. He -waited a moment and then slowly walked back toward -the kitchen.</p> - -<p>His appearance in the doorway was the signal for a -shout from Egerton Savage who held a glass aloft and -offered his health. His health! He swayed forward -heavily. What did it matter? His blood surged. What -would it matter—just once? Just once!</p> - -<p>He lunged forward into the chair somebody pushed<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_217" id="Page_217">[217]</a></span> -toward him, took up the glass of champagne his host -had poured for him, drained it, his eyes closed, and put -it down on the table.</p> - -<p>Just once! It was a beautiful wine—sent out for the -occasion from Mr. Savage’s own collection in town, and -it raced through Gallatin’s veins like quicksilver, tingling -to his very finger ends. He looked up and laughed. -Something had bothered him a moment ago. What was -it? He had forgotten. Life was a riot of color and delight -and here were his friends—his men friends—who -were always glad to see a fellow, no matter what. It -was good to have that kind of friends.</p> - -<p>Somebody told a story. Gallatin had not heard the -beginning of it, but he realized that he was laughing -uproariously, more loudly than any one else at the table. -The lights swam in a mist of tobacco smoke and the -figures of the men around him were blurred. Egerton -Savage had filled his glass again, and Gallatin was in -the very act of reaching forward to take it when Bibby -Worthington, who sat alongside, rose suddenly as though -to get a match from the holder, and the sleeve of his -laced coat somewhat obtrusively swept Gallatin’s glass off -the table to the stone flagging.</p> - -<p>“Beg pardon,” he said cheerfully. “There’s many a -lip ’twixt the nip and the pip. Sorry, Phil.”</p> - -<p>The crash of glass had startled Gallatin, who looked -up into Worthington’s face for a possible meaning of -the incident, for it was the clumsiest accident that could -befall a sober man. But Bibby, his lighted match suspended -in mid-air, returned his gaze with one quite calm -and unwavering. Gallatin understood, and a dark flush -rose under his skin. He was about to speak when Bibby -broke in.</p> - -<p>“Phil, I’m probably the most awkward person in the<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_218" id="Page_218">[218]</a></span> -world,” he said evenly. “The only thing about me that’s -ever in the right place is my heart. Understand?”</p> - -<p>If Gallatin had thought of replying, the words were -unuttered, for he lowered his head and only muttered a -word or two which could not be heard.</p> - -<p>Bibby blew the strands of his tousled wig from his -eyes and carefully brushed the liquor from his sleeve with -his lace handkerchief.</p> - -<p>“Sad thing, that,” he said gravely, “vintage, too.”</p> - -<p>“Lucky there’s more of it,” said Savage, taking up -the bottle. “Hand me one of those glasses on the side -table there, Bibby.”</p> - -<p>Worthington turned slowly away, looked down at Gallatin -and a glance passed between the two men. As Bibby -moved off Gallatin took out his case and hastily lit a -cigarette.</p> - -<p>“Never mind, Bibby,” he found himself saying. “No, -thanks, Egerton, I’m—er—on the wagon.” He lit his -cigarette, rose, opened the door, and looked out into the -winter night, drinking in deep draughts of the keen air. -His evil moment had passed.</p> - -<p>“Howling success, this party, Egerton,” somebody -was saying. “Listen to those infants on the veranda.”</p> - -<p>“Hello,” cried Bibby. “It’s <i>Bobby Shafto</i>, by -George. I’ll have to go in and make my bow. Come -along, Phil. They’ll be calling for you presently. What -the devil <em>are</em> you anyway?”</p> - -<p>Phil Gallatin took his arm and walked out on the -terrace.</p> - -<p>“I—I’m a d—— fool, Bibby, pretty poorly masked,” -he muttered heavily.</p> - -<p>“You are, my boy. But it takes a wise man to admit -he is a fool. Glad you know it. Awfully glad. Not -sore, are you?”</p> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_219" id="Page_219">[219]</a></span></p> - -<p>“No,” said Gallatin slowly. “Not in the least.”</p> - -<p>“Nothing like the crash of glass—to awake a fellow. -Feel all right?”</p> - -<p>“Yes, I—I think so.”</p> - -<p>“I had a lot of nerve to do a thing like that, Phil, -but you see——”</p> - -<p>“I’m glad you did. I—I won’t forget it, Bibby.”</p> - -<p>The two men clasped hands in the darkness in a new -bond of friendship.</p> - -<p>They entered the house from another door and passed -through the closed veranda. Upon the floor of the living -room, in a large circle facing the center, the infants sat, -tailor fashion, singing lustily, and greeted <i>Bobby Shafto’s</i> -appearance with shouts of glee. They made him get -into their midst and dance, which he did with all the grace -of a jackdaw, while Betty Tremaine played the accompaniment -on the piano.</p> - -<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0">Bobby Shafto’s gone to sea<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Silver buckles on his knee<br /></span> -<span class="i0">He’ll come back and marry me<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Darling Bobby Shafto.<br /></span> -</div></div> - -<p>“But <em>who</em> is he going to marry?” maliciously chortled -one of the débutantes, in the ensuing pause.</p> - -<p>“<em>You</em>, my angel, if you’ll have me?” and leaning over -he quickly kissed her.</p> - -<p>There was a laugh at the girl’s expense and Bibby -retired in triumph.</p> - -<p>One by one the characters were summoned and noisily -greeted: <i>Old King Cole</i>, who was Yates Rowland; <i>Old -Mother Hubbard</i>, who was Percy Endicott (“Aptly -taken, by Jove!” was Spencer’s comment) and <i>Simple -Simon</i>, who was Dirwell De Lancey (and looked the part). -But the hit of the occasion was the dance which followed<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_220" id="Page_220">[220]</a></span> -between <i>Jill</i> and the <i>Infant Bacchus</i>. It was clear that -no nursery music would be suitable here. So Betty Tremaine’s -fingers hurried into the <em>presto</em> of Anitra’s Dance -from the “Peer Gynt” music, which caught the requirements -of the occasion. The dancers were well-matched -and the audience upon the floor, which had at first begun -to clap its hands to the gay lilt, slowly drew back to -give more room, and then finding itself in danger from -the flying heels dispersed and looked on from adjacent -doorways. The dance was everything and it was nothing—redowa, -tarantella, cosaque, fandango, and only -ended when the dancers and pianist were exhausted.</p> - -<p>The party broke up amidst wild applause and led by -Mrs. Pennington the guests were already on their way -to the dressing-rooms, when Nina Jaffray, still breathless -from her exertions stepped before Gallatin and whispered -amusedly:</p> - -<p>“It almost seems as if you <em>might</em> go with me after -all, doesn’t it, Phil?” she laughed. “It’s too late for a -train and all the machines but mine are crowded——”</p> - -<p>“You’re very kind, but I think I’ll walk. It’s only -twenty miles.”</p> - -<p>“Don’t be disagreeable, Phil. Larry Kane wanted -to go with me, but I’ve sent him along with Ogden Spencer—just -because I wanted to apologize to you.”</p> - -<p>“Apology!” he laughed. “Why dwell on that? Besides -you’re a little too prompt to be quite sincere.”</p> - -<p>“Haven’t you any sense of humor, Phil?”</p> - -<p>“No.”</p> - -<p>“What a situation! <em>You</em> kiss me and <em>I</em> apologize for -it! Laugh, Phil, laugh! Mrs. Grundy is shrieking with -delight. O boy! What a silly thing you look!”</p> - -<p>“Good night, Nina.”</p> - -<p>“No, au revoir,” she corrected. “You know, Phil,<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_221" id="Page_221">[221]</a></span> -you mustn’t insult me—not publicly, that is. You see -you couldn’t force yourself into somebody else’s machine, -when I’m going home alone in an empty one. Besides, -it’s all arranged with Egerton.”</p> - -<p>Gallatin smiled and shrugged. “Oh, of course,” he -said, “you seem to have me at your mercy.”</p> - -<p>“I’ll be very good though, Phil,” she said, moving -toward the stairway, “and if you’re afraid of me, I’ll ask -Egerton to be chaperon.” She laughed at him over her -shoulder, and he had to confess that this was the humor -which suited her best.</p> - -<p>Gallatin went slowly toward his dressing-room, his -lips compressed, his head bent, a prey to a terrible depression -made up of fervid self-condemnation. He had -been on the very verge of—that which he most dreaded. -In his heart, too, was a dull resentment at Jane’s intolerance—an -attitude he was forced to admit when he -could think more clearly that he had now amply justified, -not because Jane had been a witness of the incident upon -the kitchen stairway, but because of the other thing. -Slowly he began to realize that to a woman a kiss is a -kiss, whether coolly implanted near the left ear, as his -had been, or upon a more appropriate spot; and the -distinction which, at the time of the occurrence, had been -so clear to his mind, seemed now to be less impressive. -Jane’s position was unreasonable, but quite tenable, and -he now discovered that unless he threw Nina’s confidences -into the breach, a defense hardly possible under the circumstances, -the matter would be difficult to explain. And -yet the act had been so harmless, his intention so innocent, -that, weighed in the balance with his love for Jane, -the incident seemed to him the merest triviality, with -reference to which Jane should not have condemned him -unheard. He heard her laugh as she went down the<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_222" id="Page_222">[222]</a></span> -stairs, and the carelessness of that mirth cut him to the -marrow. What right had she to be gay when she knew -that he must be suffering?</p> - -<p>He entered Nina’s limousine, very much sobered, with -a wish somewhere hidden in his heart that for this night -at least Nina had been in Jericho. If the lady in the -machine divined his thought she gave not the least sign -of it; for when they had left the Club, some time after -the others, and were on their way to the city, she carelessly -resumed.</p> - -<p>“I didn’t ask Egerton to come, Phil. You’re not -really alarmed, are you?”</p> - -<p>“Not in the least,” he smiled. “In fact, I was hoping -we’d be alone.”</p> - -<p>“Phil, you’re improving. Why?”</p> - -<p>“So that we may continue our interesting conversation -at the point where we left off.”</p> - -<p>“Where did we leave off? Oh, yes, you kissed me, -didn’t you? Shall we begin there?”</p> - -<p>“I suppose that’s what you asked me here for, isn’t -it?” he said brutally.</p> - -<p>“Oh, Phil, you don’t believe—that!”</p> - -<p>She deserved this punishment, she knew, but the carelessness -of his tone shocked her and she moved away into -her corner of the vehicle and sat rigidly as though turned -to stone, her eyes gazing steadily before her at the white -circle of light beyond the formless back of the chauffeur. -In the reflected light Gallatin saw her face and the jest -that was on his lips was silenced before the look he found -there. And when she spoke her voice was low and constrained.</p> - -<p>“I’m sorry you said that.”</p> - -<p>“Are you? You weren’t sorry earlier in the evening.”</p> - -<p>“I’m sorry now.”</p> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_223" id="Page_223">[223]</a></span></p> - -<p>“It’s a little late to be sorry.”</p> - -<p>She didn’t reply. She was looking out into the light -again with peering eyes. Objects in the landscape -emerged, shadowless, in pale outline, brightened and disappeared.</p> - -<p>“It isn’t like you—not in the least like you,” she murmured. -“You’ve rather upset me, Phil.”</p> - -<p>“What did you expect?” he asked. “You’ve made -a fool of me. You’ve been flirting with me abominably.”</p> - -<p>“And you repay me——”</p> - -<p>“In your own coin,” he put in.</p> - -<p>“Don’t, Phil.” She covered her face with her hands -a moment. “You’ve paid me well. Oh, that you could -have said that! I meant what I said, Phil, back there. -You’ve got to believe it now—you’ve shamed me so. -You’ve got to know it—to believe it. I wasn’t flirting -with you. I was serious with you when I said I—I loved -you. It’s the truth, the ghastly truth, and you’ve got -to believe it, whatever happens. No, don’t touch me. I -don’t want you to think I’m that kind of a girl. I’m not. -I’ve never been kissed before to-night, believe it or not. -It’s true, and now——”</p> - -<p>She stopped and clutched him by the arm. “Tell me -you believe it, Phil,” she said almost fiercely, “that I—that -I’m not that kind of a girl.”</p> - -<p>“Of course, you’ve said so——”</p> - -<p>“No—not because I’ve said so, but because you think -enough of me to believe it whether I’ve said so or not.”</p> - -<p>“I had never thought you that sort of a girl,” he -said slowly. “I’ve known you to flirt with other fellows, -but I didn’t think you really cared enough about men -to bother, least of all about me. That’s why I was a -little surprised——”</p> - -<p>“I couldn’t flirt with you—I didn’t feel that way.<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_224" id="Page_224">[224]</a></span> -I don’t know why. I think because there was a dignity -in our friendship—” she stopped again with a sharp sigh. -“Oh, what’s the use? I’m not like other girls—that’s -all. I can’t make you understand.”</p> - -<p>“I hope I—understand——”</p> - -<p>“I’m sorry, Phil, about what happened to-night.”</p> - -<p>She stopped, leaned back in her corner and, with one -of her curious transitions, began laughing softly.</p> - -<p>“It was such a wonderful opportunity—and you were -so blissfully ignorant! Oh, Phil, and you did look such -a fool!”</p> - -<p>“Oh, did I?”</p> - -<p>“I’m sorry. But I’d probably do it again—if I might—to-morrow. -Jane Loring is so prim, so self-satisfied——”</p> - -<p>The motor had been moving more slowly and the man -in front after testing various mechanisms, brought the -machine to a stop and climbed out. They heard him -tinkering here and there and after a moment he opened -the door and announced.</p> - -<p>“Sorry, Miss Jaffray, but there’s come a leak in the -tank, and we’ve run out of gasoline.”</p> - -<hr class="chap" /> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_225" id="Page_225">[225]</a></span></p> - - - - -<div class="chapter"> -<h2><a name="XIX" id="XIX">XIX</a><br /> -<small>LOVE ON CRUTCHES</small></h2> -</div> - - -<p class="cap">Mrs. Pennington’s philosophy had taught -her that it was better to be surprised than -to be bored, and that even unpleasant surprises -were slightly more desirable than no surprises -at all. It was toward the end of January on her -halting journey homeward from Aiken, one morning -in Washington, that she saw in a local journal the -announcement of an engagement between Miss Jane -Loring and Mr. Coleman Van Duyn. To say that she -was surprised puts the matter mildly, and it is doubtful -whether the flight of her ennui compensated her for the -sudden pang of dismay which came with the reading of -this article. She had left New York the day after the -affair at “The Pot and Kettle,” and so had only the -memory of Jane’s confidences and Phil Gallatin’s happy -face to controvert the news.</p> - -<p>And when some days later she arrived in New York, -she found that, though unconfirmed in authoritative quarters, -the rumors still persisted among her own friends and -Jane’s. Of Phil Gallatin she saw nothing and learned that -he was out of town on an important legal matter and -would not return for a week. When she called on the -Lorings, Jane showed a disposition to avoid personal -topics and at the mention of Philip Gallatin’s name skillfully -turned the conversation into other channels.</p> - -<p>To a woman of Mrs. Pennington’s experience the hint -was enough and she departed from the Loring mausoleum -aware that something serious had happened which threatened<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_226" id="Page_226">[226]</a></span> -Phil Gallatin’s happiness. But, in spite of the -warmth of Jane’s greeting and the careless way in which -she had discussed the gossip of the hour, Nellie Pennington -was not deceived, and by the time she was in her own -brougham had made one of those rapid deductions for -which she was famous. Jane looked jaded. Therefore, -she was unhappy; therefore, she still loved Phil Gallatin. -Phil Gallatin was working hard. Therefore, Phil was -keeping straight; there must be some other cause for -Jane’s defection. What? Obviously—a woman. Who? -Nina Jaffray.</p> - -<p>Having reached this triumphant conclusion, Mrs. -Pennington set about proving her several premises without -the waste of a single moment of time. To this end -she sought out Percy Endicott, who as she knew was better -informed upon most people’s affairs than they were -themselves, and from him learned the truth. Philip Gallatin -had been discovered with Nina Jaffray in his arms -on the kitchen stairs at the “Pot and Kettle.” Percy -Endicott’s talent for the ornamentation of bare narrative -was well known and before he had finished the story he -had convinced himself, if not his listener, that this happy -event had brought to a culmination a romance of many -years’ standing and that Nina and Phil would soon be -directing their steps, with all speed, to church.</p> - -<p>Mrs. Pennington laughed, not because what Percy told -amused her, but because this narrative showed her that -however much she was still lacking in reliable details, her -earliest deductions had been correct. She would not believe -the story until it had been confirmed by “Bibby” -Worthington to whom Coleman Van Duyn had related it -as an eye-witness, and then herself supplied the grain of -salt to make it palatable.</p> - -<p>The grain of salt was her knowledge of Nina Jaffray’s<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_227" id="Page_227">[227]</a></span> -extraordinary personality, which must account for any -differences she discovered between the Phil Gallatin who -kissed upon the back stairs and the Phil Gallatin with -whom she was familiar. Whatever his deficiencies in -other respects, he had never been considered as available -timber by the gay young married women of Mrs. Pennington’s -own set who had given him up in the susceptive -sense as a hopeless case; and if Phil had been addicted -to the habit of promiscuous kissing, he had gone about -the pursuit with a stealth which belied the record of his -unsentimental but somewhat tempestuous history. She -found herself wondering not so much about what had happened -to Phil as about how Nina had managed what <em>had</em> -happened. Nina’s remarkable confession a few days before -Egerton Savage’s party recurred to her mind, and -Nina’s clearly expressed intention to bring Phil to her -chariot-wheel seemed somehow to have an intimate bearing -upon the present situation. And yet, even admitting -Nina’s direct methods of seeking results, she could not -understand how a fellow as much in love with another -girl as Phil was could have been made so ready a victim. -Could it be? No. There was no talk of <em>that</em>. And if -Phil had again been in trouble, Mrs. Pennington knew -that the indefatigable Percy would have told her of it.</p> - -<p>She thought about the matter awhile and finally gave -it up, uncertain whether to be anxious or only amused. -But as the week went by she was given tangible evidence -that whatever feelings Jane Loring cherished in her heart -for Phil Gallatin, the wings of victory, for the present -at least, were perched upon the banneret of Mr. Coleman -Van Duyn. Jane rode, walked, and danced with him, and -within a few short weeks, from a state of ponderous misery -Coleman Van Duyn had revived and now bore the definite -outlines of a well-fed and happy cupid.</p> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_228" id="Page_228">[228]</a></span></p> - -<p>The rumors of an engagement persisted, and Mrs. -Pennington was not the only person forced against her -judgment or inclination to believe that the old Van -Duyn mansion would once more have a mistress. Dirwell -De Lancey, whose tenderness in Jane’s quarter had been -remarked, went into retirement for a brief period, and -only emerged when resignation had conquered surprise. -Colonel Crosby Broadhurst sat in his corner at the -Cosmos and wondered, as other people did, what the devil -Jane Loring could see in Coley. Bibby Worthington -still hovered amiably in Jane’s background and would not -be dislodged. He had proposed in due form to Jane and -had been refused, but the cheerful determination of his -bearing and his taste in cravats advised all who chose to -concern themselves that he was still undismayed.</p> - -<p>After Mrs. Pennington, who thought that she saw a -light, perhaps the person most surprised at Jane’s sudden -attachment for Coleman Van Duyn was Mrs. Loring. She -had listened with incredulity to Jane’s first confession of -her relations with Philip Gallatin and had waited with -resignation a resumption of the conversation. But as the -days passed and her daughter said nothing, she thought -it time to take the matter into her own hands and told -Jane of her intention to speak of it to her husband.</p> - -<p>“I’ll save you the trouble, Mother,” said Jane, kissing -her gravely on the forehead. “There is nothing between -Mr. Gallatin and myself.”</p> - -<p>Mrs. Loring concealed her delight with difficulty.</p> - -<p>“Jane, dear, something has happened.”</p> - -<p>“Nothing—nothing at all,” said Jane. “I’ve changed -my mind—that’s all.”</p> - -<p>“Oh,” said Mrs. Loring. This much imparted, Jane -would say no more; the matter was dropped, and to Mrs.<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_229" id="Page_229">[229]</a></span> -Loring it seemed that in so far as Jane was concerned, -Mr. Gallatin had simply ceased to exist.</p> - -<p>But it was not without some difficulty that Jane convinced -herself that this was the case. The day after the -“Pot and Kettle” affair, Phil Gallatin wrote, ’phoned, -wired and called. His note Jane consigned to the fire, -his telephone was answered by Hastings, his wire followed -his note, and to his visit she was out. This, she thought, -should have concluded their relations, but the following -morning brought another letter—a long one. She hesitated -before deciding whether to open it or to return it, -but at last she broke the seal and read it through, her -lips compressed, her brows tangled angrily. It was a -plea for forgiveness, and that was all. There were many -regrets, many protestations of love, but not one word of -explanation! He had even gone so far as to call the -incident a trifle (a trifle, indeed!) and to call <em>her</em> to -account for an intolerance which he had the temerity to -say was unworthy of the great love that he had given her.</p> - -<p>The impudence of him! What did he mean? Was the -man mad? Or was this the New York idea? She realized -now that he was an animal that she had met in an unfamiliar -habitat, and that perhaps the things to be expected -of him here were those dictated by the inconsiderable -ideals of the day. It dismayed her to think that -after all here in New York, she had only known him a -little more than a week. His vision appeared—and was -banished, and his letter, torn again and again into small -pieces was consigned to the flames of her open fire. She -made no reply.</p> - -<p>Another letter came on the morrow, was read like the -other, but likewise destroyed. His persistence was amazing. -Would he not take a hint and save her the unpleasant<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_230" id="Page_230">[230]</a></span> -duty of sending his letters back to him unopened? -Apparently not! And with the letters came baskets of -flowers which, like those from Mr. Van Duyn, filled her -room with pleasant odors.</p> - -<p>She was willing to believe now that a word of explanation, -a clue to his extraordinary behavior might -have paved the way to reconciliation, and she found herself -wondering in a material way what was becoming of -him and worrying, in spite of herself, as to his future, -of which, as she had once fondly believed, she was the -guardian. What was he doing with himself in the -evenings?</p> - -<p>This thought sent the blood rushing to her cheeks and -hardened her heart against him. He was with Nina Jaffray, -of course. In his last letter he had written that he -must go away on business and for two mornings no letter -arrived. She missed these letters and was furious with -herself that it was so. But the energy of her anger was -conserved in the form of further favors for Coley Van -Duyn who radiated it in rapturous good-will toward all -the world. When the letters were resumed, she locked -them in her desk unread, determining upon his return to -town to make them into a package and send them back -in bulk. Many times she unlocked her desk and scrutinized -the envelopes, but it was always to thrust them -into their drawer which she shut and locked each time -with quite unnecessary violence.</p> - -<p>Another matter which caused some inquietude was -Nellie Pennington’s return to town, for Mrs. Pennington -was the only person, besides Mr. Gallatin and her mother, -in actual possession of her secret, the only person besides -Mr. Gallatin whom it was necessary to convince as to -the definiteness of her recantation. At their first meeting -Jane had carried off the situation with a carelessness<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_231" id="Page_231">[231]</a></span> -which she felt had rather overshot the mark. Her visitor -had accepted the hints with a disconcerting readiness -and composure, and Jane had a feeling after Mrs. Pennington -left the house that her efforts had been singularly -ineffective; for she was conscious that her visitor -had scrutinized her keenly and that anything she had said -had been carefully sifted, weighed and subjected to that -kind of cunning alchemy which clever women use to transmute -the baser metals of sophistry into gold.</p> - -<p>Mrs. Pennington had now taken an initiative in the -friendship and refused to be disconcerted. Jane’s engagements -with Coleman Van Duyn provided no effectual -hindrance to Mrs. Pennington’s enthusiastic fellowship, -and she frequently helped to make a party in which, to -Mr. Van Duyn at least, three was a crowd. Mrs. Pennington -accepted his presence without surprise, without -annoyance or other emotion; and somehow succeeded in -conveying the impression that she was conferring a favor -upon them both, a favor for which, in her own heart at -least, Jane was grateful.</p> - -<p>It was not surprising to Jane, therefore, when one -morning Nellie Pennington called up on the ’phone and -made an engagement for the afternoon at five, at the -Loring house, urging a need of Jane’s advice upon an important -matter. She entered the library, where Jane had -been reading, with a radiance which did much to dispel the -gloom of the day which had been execrable; and when her -hostess suggested that they go upstairs to her own dressing-room, -where they might be undisturbed, Nellie Pennington -threw off her furs.</p> - -<p>“No, thanks, darling,” she said. “I can’t stay long. -And you know when one reaches my mature years, each -stair has a separate menace.”</p> - -<p>“There’s the lift,” Jane laughed.</p> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_232" id="Page_232">[232]</a></span></p> - -<p>“Oh, never! That would be a public confession. I’ll -stay here if you don’t mind,” and she sank into an armchair -by the fire.</p> - -<p>“Coley isn’t coming?” she inquired.</p> - -<p>“No,” said Jane. “I had a headache.”</p> - -<p>Nellie Pennington sighed gratefully.</p> - -<p>“You know, Jane, Coley is a nice fellow, but he’s just -about as plastic as the Pyramid of Cheops. You’ve done -wonders with him, of course, and he is really quite bearable -now, but it must have been wearing, wasn’t it?”</p> - -<p>“Oh, no,” Jane smiled. “He’s quite obedient.”</p> - -<p>“I sometimes wonder whether men are worth the pains -we women waste on them.” Mrs. Pennington went on -reflectively. “When we are single they adore us for our -defects; married, we have a real difficulty in making them -love us for our virtues. But love abhors the word obedience. -It knows no arbitrary laws. An obedient husband -is like an egg without salt and far more indigestible. -You’re not going to marry Coley, are you, Jane?” she -finished abruptly.</p> - -<p>Jane paled and her head tilted the fraction of an inch. -It was the first time Nellie Pennington had approached -the subject so directly, and Jane had not decided whether -to silence her questioner at once or to laugh her off when -she broke in again.</p> - -<p>“Oh, don’t reply if you don’t want to. I’m sure nothing -I could say would have the slightest influence on your -decision. It doesn’t matter in the least whom one marries -anyway, because whatever the lover is, the husband is -always sure to be something quite different. If Coley is -obedient now, married he’ll be a Tartar.”</p> - -<p>“I—I didn’t say I was going to marry Mr. Van -Duyn.”</p> - -<p>“You didn’t say you weren’t.”</p> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_233" id="Page_233">[233]</a></span></p> - -<p>“Why should I? Must a girl marry, because she -receives the attentions——”</p> - -<p>“<em>Exclusive</em> attentions,” put in Mrs. Pennington quickly. -“Jane, you’re rather overdoing it,” she finished -frankly.</p> - -<p>“I like Mr. Van Duyn very much,” said Jane, her -head lowered.</p> - -<p>“But you don’t love him. Oh, Jane,” she whispered -earnestly, “play the scene in your own way if you like, -but don’t try to hide the real drama from me.”</p> - -<p>“There is no drama,” put in Jane. “It was a -farce——”</p> - -<p>“It’s a drama in Phil Gallatin’s heart. Can you be -blind to his struggle?”</p> - -<p>“I care nothing for Mr. Gallatin’s struggles,” said -Jane, her head high.</p> - -<p>“You do. Love like yours comes only once in a -woman’s eyes. I saw it——”</p> - -<p>“You’re mistaken.”</p> - -<p>“No. And it isn’t quenched with laughter——”</p> - -<p>“Don’t, Nellie.”</p> - -<p>“I must. You’re trying to kill something in you that -will not die.”</p> - -<p>“It’s dead now.”</p> - -<p>“No—nor even sleeping. Don’t you suppose I read -you, silly child, your false gayety, the mockery of your -smiles, and the way you’ve thrown Coley Van Duyn into -the breach to soothe your pride—even let an engagement -be undenied so that Phil could think how little you cared? -You once let me behind the scenes; no matter how much -you regret it, I’m still there.”</p> - -<p>“Mr. Gallatin is nothing to me.”</p> - -<p>Mrs. Pennington leaned back in her chair and smiled.</p> - -<p>“You told me that your faith in Phil was unending.<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_234" id="Page_234">[234]</a></span> -Your eternity, my dear, lasted precisely one week.”</p> - -<p>Jane flashed around at her passionately, aroused at -last, as Nellie Pennington intended that she should be.</p> - -<p>“Oh, why couldn’t he have explained?”</p> - -<p>“Explain! At the expense of another girl? Phil is -a gentleman.”</p> - -<p>Mrs. Pennington had had that reply ready. She had -considered it carefully for some days.</p> - -<p>Jane paused, and her eyes, scarcely credulous, sought -the face of her visitor. Nellie Pennington met her look -eagerly.</p> - -<p>“Nina Jaffray’s,” she went on. “Could Phil tell why -it happened? Obviously not.”</p> - -<p>“But he kissed her——”</p> - -<p>Mrs. Pennington shrugged her pretty shoulders.</p> - -<p>“As to that, Nina, of course, had reasons of her -own.”</p> - -<p>“Nina—Miss Jaffray—reasons?”</p> - -<p>“She probably asked him to——”</p> - -<p>“Impossible!”</p> - -<p>“She did.”</p> - -<p>“Do you know that?”</p> - -<p>“No, but I know Nina.”</p> - -<p>“I can’t see that that alters anything.”</p> - -<p>“But it does—amazingly—if you’ll only think -about it.”</p> - -<p>“I saw it all.”</p> - -<p>“Oh! Did you? I’m glad.”</p> - -<p>“Glad! Oh, Nellie!”</p> - -<p>“Of course. Think how much worse it might have -seemed if you hadn’t.”</p> - -<p>“I don’t understand.”</p> - -<p>“If some one else had told you, you might have believed -anything.”</p> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_235" id="Page_235">[235]</a></span></p> - -<p>“I saw enough to believe——”</p> - -<p>“What did you see?”</p> - -<p>“He—he—he just kissed her.”</p> - -<p>“Oh, Jane, think! What did you see? Why should -Phil kiss a girl he doesn’t love? Aren’t there any kisses -in the world but lovers kisses? Think. You must. Phil’s -whole life and yours depend upon it.”</p> - -<p>Jane rose and walked quickly to the window.</p> - -<p>“This conversation—is impossible.”</p> - -<p>Nellie Pennington watched her narrowly. She had -created a diversion upon the flank, which, if it did nothing -else, had temporarily driven Jane’s forces back in confusion. -She looked anxiously toward the door of the -drawing-room and then smiled, for a figure had entered -and was coming forward without hesitation.</p> - -<p>With one eye on Jane, who was still looking out of -the window, Nellie Pennington rose and greeted the newcomer.</p> - -<p>“Hello, Phil. I had almost given you up. You don’t -mind, do you, Jane. I had to see Mr. Gallatin and asked -if he wouldn’t stop for me here.”</p> - -<p>At the sound of his name Jane had twisted around -and now faced them, breathless. Mrs. Pennington was -smiling carelessly, but Phil Gallatin, hat in hand, stood -with bowed head before her. At the door into the hallway, -the butler, somewhat uncertainly, hovered.</p> - -<p>“Thank you, Hastings,” Jane summoned her tongue -to say. “That will be all.”</p> - -<hr class="chap" /> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_236" id="Page_236">[236]</a></span></p> - - - - -<div class="chapter"> -<h2><a name="XX" id="XX">XX</a><br /> -<small>THE INTRUDER</small></h2> -</div> - - -<p class="cap">And when the man had gone her voice came back to -her with surprising clearness.</p> - -<p>“You were going, I think you said, Nellie, -dear. So sorry. If you’ll excuse me I think I’ll hurry -upstairs. I’m dining out and——”</p> - -<p>“Jane!” Gallatin’s voice broke in. “Don’t go. Give -me a chance—just half an hour—ten minutes. I won’t -take more than that—and then——”</p> - -<p>“I’m sorry, but——”</p> - -<p>“You wouldn’t see me or reply to my letters, and so -I had to choose some other way. Give me a moment,” he -pleaded. “You can’t refuse me that.”</p> - -<p>“I don’t see—how anything that you say can make -the slightest difference—in anything, Mr. Gallatin,” she -said haltingly. “We both seem to have been mistaken. -It’s very much better to avoid a—a discussion which is -sure to—to be painful to us both.”</p> - -<p>“What do you know of pain,” he whispered, “if you -can’t know the pain of absence? Nothing that you can -say will hurt more than that, the pain of being ignored—forgotten—for -another. I have stood it as long as I can, -but you needn’t be afraid to tell me the truth. If you -say that you love—that you’re going to marry Van Duyn, -I’ll go—but not until then.”</p> - -<p>“Mrs. Pennington is waiting for you, I think,” she -gasped. But when she turned and looked into the drawing-room -Mrs. Pennington was nowhere to be seen.</p> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_237" id="Page_237">[237]</a></span></p> - -<p>“No,” he went on quickly. “She has gone. I asked -her to. Oh, Jane, listen to me. I made a mistake—under -the impulse of a foolish moment. I’ve been a fool—but -I’m not ashamed of my folly. Perhaps it shocks you to -hear me say that. But I’m not ashamed—my conscience -is clear. Do you think I could look you in the eyes if -there was any other image between us? Call me thoughtless, -if you like, careless, inconsiderate of conventions, inconsiderate -even of you, but don’t insult yourself by -imputing motives that never existed—that never could -exist while you were in my thoughts. Oh, Jane, can’t you -understand? You’re the life—the bone—the breath of -me. I have no thought that does not come from you, no -wish—no hope that you’re not a part of. What has Nina -Jaffray to do with you and me? If I kissed her it was because—because——” -He stopped and could not go on.</p> - -<p>“That is precisely what I want to know,” she said -coolly.</p> - -<p>“I—I can’t tell you.”</p> - -<p>“No,” she said dryly. “I thought not. Miss Jaffray -has every reason to be flattered at your attitude. I -can only be thankful that you at least possess the virtue -of silence—that you really are man enough to preserve -the confidence of the women of your acquaintance. Otherwise, -I myself might fare badly.”</p> - -<p>“Stop, Jane!” he cried, coming forward and seizing -her by the elbows. “It’s sacrilege. Look up into my -eyes. You dare not, because you know that I speak the -truth, because you know that you’ll discover in them a -token of love unending—the same look that you’ve always -found there, because when you see it you will recognize -it as a force too great to conquer—too mighty to be -argued away for the sake of a whim of your injured pride. -Look up at me, Jane.”</p> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_238" id="Page_238">[238]</a></span></p> - -<p>He had his arms around her now; but she struggled -in them, her head still turned away.</p> - -<p>“Let me go, Mr. Gallatin,” she gasped. “It can -never be. You have hurt me—mortally.”</p> - -<p>“No. I’ll never let you go, until you look up in my -eyes and tell me you believe in me.”</p> - -<p>“It’s unmanly of you,” she cried, still struggling. -“Let me go, please, at once.”</p> - -<p>Neither of them had heard the opening and closing -of the front door, nor seen the figure which now blocked -the doorway into the hall, but at the deep tones which -greeted them, they straightened and faced Mr. Loring.</p> - -<p>“I beg your pardon, Jane,” he was saying with ironical -amusement. “I chose the wrong moment it seems,” -and then in harsher accents as Gallatin walked toward -him. “You! Jane, what does this mean?”</p> - -<p>Miss Loring had reached the end of the Davenport -where she stood leaning with one hand on its arm, a little -frightened at the expression in her father’s face, but more -perturbed and shaken by the fluttering of her own heart -which told her how nearly Phil Gallatin had convinced her -against her will that there was nothing in all the world -that mattered except his love and hers.</p> - -<p>Her father’s sudden appearance had startled her, too, -for though no words had passed between father and daughter, -she knew that her mother had already repeated the -tale of her romance and of its sudden termination. She -tried to speak in reply to Mr. Loring’s question, but no -words would come and after a silence burdened with meaning -she heard Phil Gallatin speaking.</p> - -<p>“It means, Mr. Loring,” he was saying steadily, “that -I love your daughter—that I hope, some day, to ask her to -be my wife.”</p> - -<p>Loring came into the room, his eyes contracted, his<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_239" id="Page_239">[239]</a></span> -bull neck thrust forward, his face suffused with blood.</p> - -<p>“<em>You</em> want to marry my daughter? <em>You!</em> I think -you’re mistaken.” He stopped and peered at one and -then the other. “I’ve heard something about you, Mr. -Gallatin,” he said more calmly. “Your ways seem to be -crossing mine more frequently than I like.”</p> - -<p>“I hardly understand you,” said Gallatin clearly.</p> - -<p>“I’ll try to make my meaning plain. We needn’t -discuss at once the relations between you and my daughter. -Whatever they’ve been or are now, they’re less important -than other matters.”</p> - -<p>“Other matters!” Gallatin exclaimed. Jane had -straightened and came forward, aware of some new element -in her father’s antipathy. Loring glanced at her -and went on.</p> - -<p>“For some weeks past I’ve been aware of the activity -of certain interests that you or your pettifogging little -firm represent in regard to the plans of the Pequot Coal -Company. I’ve followed your movements with some -curiosity and read the letters you’ve written to the New -York office with not a little amazement.”</p> - -<p>“<em>You</em> have read them?”</p> - -<p>“Yes, I. <em>I</em> am the Pequot Coal Company, Mr. Gallatin.”</p> - -<p>Gallatin drew back a step and glanced at Jane.</p> - -<p>“I was not aware——” he began.</p> - -<p>“No, I guess not. But it’s about time you were,” -Loring chuckled. He walked the length of the room and -back, his hands behind him, passing Jane as though he -was unaware of her existence, his huge bulk towering -before Gallatin again.</p> - -<p>“You are trying to stop the sale of the Sanborn -mines,” he sneered. “You’re meddling, sir. We tested -that matter in the courts. The court records——”</p> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_240" id="Page_240">[240]</a></span></p> - -<p>“<em>Your</em> courts, Mr. Loring,” put in Gallatin, now -thoroughly aroused. “I’m familiar with the evidence in -the case you speak of.”</p> - -<p>“<em>My</em> courts!” Loring roared. “The Supreme Court -of the State! We needn’t discuss their decisions here.”</p> - -<p>“No, but we will discuss them—elsewhere,” he said -soberly. He stopped and, with a quick change of voice. -“Mr. Loring, you’ll pardon me if I refuse to speak of this -further. I’m sorry to learn that——”</p> - -<p>“I’m not through yet,” Loring broke in savagely, -with a glance at Jane. “We’ve known for some time that -the Sanborn case was in the hands of Kenyon, Hood and -Gallatin, and we’ve been at some pains to keep ourselves -informed as to any action that would be taken by your -clients. We know something about you, too, Mr. Gallatin, -and we have followed your recent investigations with some -interest and not a little amusement. If we ever had any -fear of a possible perversion of justice in this case, -through your efforts, I may say that it has been entirely -removed by our knowledge of your methods and of the -personal facts of your career.”</p> - -<p><a href="#image04">“Father!” Jane’s</a> fingers were on his arm, and her -<a href="#image04">whisper was at his ear</a>, but he raised a hand to silence -her, putting her aside.</p> - -<div class="figcenter" style="width: 400px;"> -<a id="image04"> - <img src="images/image04.jpg" width="400" height="600" alt="" title="" /> -</a><br /> -<div class="caption"><a href="#Page_240">“‘Father!’ Jane’s... whisper was at his ear.”</a></div> -</div> - -<p>“You’re aligning yourself with a discredited cause, -sir. Your case is a bubble which I promise to prick at -the opportune moment. The tone of your letters requesting -an interview with a view to reopening the case is impertinent. -The compromise suggested is blackmail and -will be treated as such.”</p> - -<p>Gallatin flushed darkly and then turned white at the -insult.</p> - -<p>“Mr. Loring, I’ll ask you to choose your words more -carefully,” he said angrily, his jaw set.</p> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_241" id="Page_241">[241]</a></span></p> - -<p>“I’m not in the habit of mincing words, and I’ll hardly -spare you or the people who employ you for the sake of -a foolish whim of a girl, even though she is——”</p> - -<p>“You <em>must</em> not, Father,” whispered Jane again, in -tones of anguish. “You’re in your own house. You’re -violating all the——”</p> - -<p>“Be quiet,” he commanded shortly, “or leave the -room.”</p> - -<p>“I can’t be quiet. Mr. Gallatin for the present is -my guest and as such——”</p> - -<p>“Whatever Mr. Gallatin’s presence here means, -there’s little doubt——”</p> - -<p>“I—I asked him to come here,” Jane stammered. “I -beg you to leave us.”</p> - -<p>“No! If Mr. Gallatin has come here at your invitation, -all the more reason that you, too, should hear what -I have to say to him.”</p> - -<p>“I will not listen. Will you please go, Mr. Gallatin, -at once?”</p> - -<p>Phil Gallatin, pale but composed, was standing immovable.</p> - -<p>“Thank you. If there’s something else your father -has to say, I’ll listen to it now,” he said. “I can only -hope that it will be nothing that he will regret.”</p> - -<p>Jane drew aside and threw herself on the divan, her -head buried in her hands.</p> - -<p>“There’s hardly a danger of that,” said Loring grimly. -“I’ll take the risk anyway. I’m in the habit of keeping -my house in order, Mr. Gallatin, and I’m not the kind -to stop doing it just because a duty is unpleasant. There -seems to be something between you and my daughter. God -knows what! I have known it for some days, but I haven’t -spoken of it to her or hunted for you because I had reason -to believe that she had had the good sense to forget the<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_242" id="Page_242">[242]</a></span> -silly romantic ideas you had been putting into her head. -I see that I was mistaken. Your presence in this house -is the proof of it. I’ll try to make my objections -known in language that not only you but my daughter -will understand.”</p> - -<p>With a struggle Gallatin regained his composure, -folded his arms and waited. Jane raised her head, her -eyes pleading, then quietly rose and walking across the -room, laid her fingers on Phil Gallatin’s arm and stood by -his side, facing her father. Mr. Loring began speaking, -but she interrupted him quickly.</p> - -<p>“Whatever you say to Philip Gallatin, Father, you -will say to me. Whatever you know of him—I know, too, -past or present. I love him,” she finished solemnly.</p> - -<p>One of Gallatin’s arms went around her and his lips -whispered, “Thank God for that, Jane.” And then together -they faced the older man. Mr. Loring flinched and -some of the purple went out of his face, but his lower lip -protruded and his bulk seemed to grow more compact -as the meaning of the situation grew upon him. His small -eyes blinked two or three times and then glowed into incandescence.</p> - -<p>“Oh, I see,” he muttered. “It’s as bad as that, is -it? I hadn’t supposed——”</p> - -<p>“Wait a moment, sir,” said Gallatin clearly. “Call -it bad, if you like, but you haven’t a right to condemn me -without a hearing.”</p> - -<p>Loring laughed. “A hearing? I know enough already, -Mr. Gallatin.”</p> - -<p>Gallatin took a step forward speaking quietly. -“You’re making a mistake. Whatever you’ve heard about -me, I’ve at least got the right of any man to defend himself. -You’ve already chosen to insult me in your own -house. I’ve passed that by, because this is not the time<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_243" id="Page_243">[243]</a></span> -or place to answer. Kenyon, Hood and Gallatin are not -easily intimidated—nor am I. I want you to understand -that here—now.” His voice fell a note. “When I speak -of myself it is a different matter. I don’t know what -you’ve heard about me, and I don’t much care, for in -respect to one thing at least I’ll offer no excuse or extenuation. -That’s past and I’m living in the hope that -as time goes on, it will not be borne too heavily against -me. But you’ve got to believe whether you want to or not -that I would rather die than have your daughter suffer -because of me.”</p> - -<p>“She has suffered already.”</p> - -<p>“No, no!” cried Jane. “Not suffered—only lived, -father.”</p> - -<p>“And now you’ve quit, I suppose,” said the old man -ironically, “reformed—turned over a new leaf. See here, -Mr. Gallatin, this thing has gone far enough. I’ve listened -to you with some patience. Now you listen to me! -You’ve come into my house unbidden, invaded my privacy -here and insinuated yourself again into the good graces -of my daughter, who, I had good reason to believe, had -already forgotten you. Your training has served you -well. Fortunately I’m not so easily deceived. Until the -present moment I have trusted my daughter’s good judgment. -Now I find I must use my own. If she isn’t deterred -by a knowledge of your history, perhaps I can -supply her with information which will not fail. I can -hardly conceive that she will overlook your conduct when -it involves the reputation of another woman!”</p> - -<p>“Father!”</p> - -<p>Henry Loring had reached the drawing-room door and -now stood, his legs apart, his fists clenched, his words -snapping like the receiver of a wireless station.</p> - -<p>“Deny—if you like! It will have no conviction with<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_244" id="Page_244">[244]</a></span> -me—or with her. Look at her, Mr. Gallatin,” he said, -his finger pointing. “There are limits even to <em>her</em> credulity. -She will hardly be pleased to learn of the accident -to the motor which obliged you and your companion—very -opportunely, indeed, to spend the night in a——”</p> - -<p>“Stop, sir!” Gallatin’s hand was extended and his -voice dominated. “Say what you like about me. I’ve -invited that, but I’ll not listen while you rob a woman of -her name.”</p> - -<p>Jane stood like an ivory figure in the pale light, her -eyes dark with incomprehension, searching Gallatin’s face -for the truth.</p> - -<p>“There was a woman?” she asked.</p> - -<p>Gallatin hesitated.</p> - -<p>“Yes, there was a woman. There needn’t be any -mystery about that. I wasn’t aware that there had been -any mystery. It was Nina Jaffray. We were stranded -back in the country coming from the ‘Pot and Kettle.’ -We found a farmhouse and stayed there. There wasn’t -anything else to do. You can’t mean that you believe——!”</p> - -<p>Jane had turned from him and walked toward the -door.</p> - -<p>“It hadn’t been my intention to mention the lady’s -name,” Loring laughed. “But since Mr. Gallatin has seen -fit to do so——”</p> - -<p>“You’re going too far, Mr. Loring. There are ways -of reaching a man even of your standing in the community.”</p> - -<p>Loring chuckled.</p> - -<p>“I fancy that this is a matter which won’t be discussed -elsewhere,” he said.</p> - -<p>Gallatin’s eyes sought Jane’s, who now stood in the<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_245" id="Page_245">[245]</a></span> -doorway into the hall, one hand clutching the silken -hangings.</p> - -<p>“You can’t believe this, Jane? You have no right to. -Your father has been told a sinful lie. It’s doing Nina a -harm—a dreadful harm. Can’t you see?”</p> - -<p>At the mention of Nina’s name Jane’s lips twisted -scornfully and with a look of contempt she turned and -was gone.</p> - -<p>Gallatin took a few steps forward as though he would -have followed her, but Loring’s bulky figure interposed.</p> - -<p>“We’ve had enough of this, sir,” he growled. “Let’s -have this scene over. We’re done with you. You’ve -played h—— with your own life and you’ll go on doing -it, but you won’t play it with me or with any of mine, -by G——. I’ve got your measure, Mr. Gallatin, and if I -find you interfering here again, I’ll take some other means -that will be less pleasant. D’ye hear? I’ve heard the -story they’re telling about you and my daughter up in -the woods. It makes fine chatter for your magpies up -and down the Avenue. D—— them! Thank God, my -daughter is too clean for them or you to hurt. It was -a great chance for you. You knew what you were about. -You haven’t lived in New York all these years for nothing. -You thought you could carry things through on -your family name, but to make the matter sure you tried -to compromise my daughter so that——”</p> - -<p>Loring paused.</p> - -<p>Gallatin had stood with head bowed before the door -through which Jane had disappeared. His ears were deaf -to Loring’s tirade; but as he realized the terms of the -indictment, he raised his head, stepped suddenly forward, -his fists clenched, his eyes blazing into those of the older -man, scarcely a foot away. In Phil Gallatin’s expression<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_246" id="Page_246">[246]</a></span> -was the dumb fury of an animal at bay, a wild light -in his eyes that was a personal menace. Loring did not -know fear, but there was something in the look of this -young man who faced him which told him he had gone too -far. Gallatin’s right arm moved upward, and then -dropped at his side again.</p> - -<p>“You—you’ve said enough, Mr. Loring,” he gasped, -struggling for his breath. “Almost more than is good—for -both—for either of us. You—you—you’re mistaken, -sir.”</p> - -<p>And then as though ashamed of his lack of control -he turned aside, and took up his hat. Henry Loring -strode to the wall and pressed his thumb to a bell.</p> - -<p>“I’ll stand by my mistakes,” he said more calmly. -“You came to the wrong house, Mr. Gallatin, and I think -you won’t forget it. I’d like you to remember this, too, -and I’m a man of my word. You keep your fingers off my -affairs, either business or personal, or I’ll make New York -too hot to hold you,” and then as the man appeared, -“Hastings, show this gentleman out!”</p> - -<hr class="chap" /> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_247" id="Page_247">[247]</a></span></p> - - - - -<div class="chapter"> -<h2><a name="XXI" id="XXI">XXI</a><br /> -<small>TEMPTATION</small></h2> -</div> - - -<p class="cap">Philip Gallatin had a bad night. From the -Loring house he trudged forth into the rain and -sleet of the Park where he walked until his anger -had cooled; then dined alone in a corner at the Cosmos, -avoiding a group of his familiars who were attuned to -gayety. From there he went directly to his rooms.</p> - -<p>The house of his fathers was in a by-street in the -center of the fashionable shopping district, and this dwelling, -an old-fashioned double house of brown stone, was -the only relic that remained to Phil of the former grandeur -of the Gallatins. Great lawyers, however successful in -safeguarding the interests of their clients, are notable -failures in safeguarding the interests of their own. Philip -Gallatin, the elder, had inherited a substantial fortune, -but had added nothing to it. He had lived like a prince -and was known as the most lavish host of his day. He -consorted with the big men of his generation when the -Gallatin house was famous alike for its cellar and kitchen. -Here were entertained presidents and ex-presidents of the -United States, foreign princes, distinguished artists and -literary men, and here it was claimed, over Philip Gallatin’s -priceless Madeira, the way had been paved for an -important treaty with the Russian government.</p> - -<p>Philip Gallatin, the second, had made money easily -and spent it more easily, to the end that at the time of his -death it was discovered that the home was heavily mortgaged, -and that his holdings in great industrial corporations,<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_248" id="Page_248">[248]</a></span> -many of which he had helped to organize, had been -disposed of, leaving an income which, while ample for Mrs. -Gallatin and her only child during the years of his boyhood, -when the taste of society was for quieter things, was -entirely inadequate to the growing requirements of the -day. At his mother’s death, just after he came of age, -Phil Gallatin had found himself possessed of less than -eight thousand a year gross, and a mortgage which called -for almost one-half that sum. But he resolutely refused -to part with the house, for it had memories and associations -dear to him.</p> - -<p>Three years ago, with a pang which he still remembered, -he had decided to rent out the basement and lower -floors for business purposes and apply the income thus -received to taxes and sinking fund, but he still kept the -rooms on the third floor which he had always occupied, -as his own. An old servant named Barker, one of the -family retainers, was in attendance. Barker had watched -the tide of commerce flow in and at last engulf the street -which in his mind would always be associated with the -family which he had served so long. But he would not -go, so Philip Gallatin found a place for him. In the -building he was janitor, engineer, rent collector, and -valet. He cooked Phil’s breakfast of eggs and coffee and -brought it up to him, made his bed and kept his rooms -with the same scrupulous care that he had exercised in -the heydey of prosperity. He was Phil’s doctor, nurse -and factotum, and kept the doors of Gallatin’s apartments -against all invaders.</p> - -<p>Phil Gallatin wearily climbed the two long flights -which led to the rooms. He had had a trying day. All -the morning had been spent with John Sanborn, and a -plan had been worked out based upon the labors of the -past three weeks. One important decision had been<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_249" id="Page_249">[249]</a></span> -reached, and a concession wrung at last from his clients. -He had worked at high tension since the case had been -put into his hands, traveling, eating when and where he -could, working late at the office, sleeping little, and in -spare moments had written to or thought of Jane. The -strain of his anxiety was now beginning to tell. The -events of the afternoon had filled him with a new sense of -the difficulties of his undertakings. Loring would fight to -the last ditch. All the more glory in driving him there!</p> - -<p>But of Jane he thought with less assurance. His own -mind had been so innocent of transgression, his own heart -so filled with the thought of her, that her willingness to -believe evil of him and of Nina had caused a singular -revulsion of feeling which was playing havoc with his sentiments. -It had not mattered so much when Jane’s indictment -had been for him alone; that, he had deserved and -had been willing to stand trial for; but with Nina’s reputation -at stake Jane’s intolerance took a different aspect. -Whatever Nina Jaffray’s faults, and they were many, Phil -Gallatin knew, as every one else in the Cedarcroft crowd -did, that they were the superficial ones of the day and -generation and that Nina’s pleasure was in the creation of -smoke rather than flame.</p> - -<p>The failure of the motor after the “Pot and Kettle” -party had been unfortunate, and the lack of oil subsequently -explained by the drunkenness of the chauffeur who -had been discharged on Miss Jaffray’s return to town. -Phil Gallatin had found a farmhouse, where Nina had been -made comfortable. There was no gasoline within five -miles of the place. The chauffeur was unable to cope with -the situation and there was nothing for it but to wait until -morning, when the farmer himself drove Gallatin to the -nearest village for the needed fuel.</p> - -<p>Under other circumstances it might have been an<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_250" id="Page_250">[250]</a></span> -amusing experience, but the events of the evening had put -a damper on them both. Nina’s impudence was smothered -in her fur collar, and she had sat sulkily through the -hours of darkness, gazing at the stove, saying not a word, -and the delinquent chauffeur had meanwhile gone to sleep -on the floor of the kitchen. Morning saw them safe in -town at an early hour, and it had been at Nina’s request -that the incident had not been mentioned. Until to-day -Gallatin had not given it a thought. He had not seen -Nina, and while he had frequently thought of her, the -flight of time and the press of affairs had given her singular -confession a perspective that took something from its -importance. But Jane’s attitude had suddenly made Nina -the dominant figure in the situation. Whatever mischief -she had created in his own affairs, she had not deserved -this!</p> - -<p>He entered his rooms filled with bitterness toward -Henry Loring, dull resentment toward Jane. Everything -in the world that he hoped for had centered about her -image, and he loved her for what she had been to him, -what she had made of him and for what he had made of -himself, but in his mind a definite conviction had grown, -that in so far as he was concerned their relations were -now at an end. He had abased himself enough and further -efforts at a reconciliation could only demean his dignity, -already jeopardized, and his pride, already mortally -wounded.</p> - -<p>He threw himself heavily into his Morris chair and -tried to think about other things. Upon the table there -was a legal volume which he had brought up from the -office the night before, filled with slips of paper for the -reference pages which Tooker had placed there for him. -He took it up and began to read, but his mind wandered. -The type swam before his eyes and in its place Jane’s<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_251" id="Page_251">[251]</a></span> -face appeared, ivory-colored as he had last seen it, and -her eyes dark with pain and incomprehension looked scornfully -out of the page. He closed the book and gazed -around the room, into the dusty corners, with their mementos -of his career: the oar that had been his when he -had stroked the crew of his university, boxing gloves, foils -and mask, photographs of football teams in which he had -been interested, a small cabinet of cups—golf and steeplechase -prizes, a policeman’s helmet, the spoils of a college -prank, his personal library (his father’s was in a storage -warehouse), trinkets of all sorts, steins innumerable, a tiny -satin slipper, some ivories and—a small gold flask.</p> - -<p>He got out of his chair, picked the flask up, and -examined it as if it had been something he had never seen -before. He ran his fingers over the chasing of the cup, -noted the dents that had been made when it had fallen -among the rocks, and the dark scar made in the embers of -their fire.</p> - -<p>Their fire! His fire and Jane’s—burned out to ashes.</p> - -<p>He put the flask back in its place and began slowly to -pace the floor, his hands behind his back, his head bent -forward, his eyes peering somberly. He stopped in his -walk and put a lump of coal into the grate. He was dead -tired and his muscles ached as though with a cold. In the -next room his bed invited him, but he did not undress, -for he knew that if he went to bed it would only be to lie -and gaze at the gray patch of light where the window was. -He had done that before and the memory of the dull ache -in his body during the long night when he had suffered -came to him and overpowered him. He had that pain -now—coming slowly, as it had sometimes done before when -he had been working on his nerve. It didn’t grip him as -once it had done, with its clutch of fire, driving everything -else from his thoughts. But he was conscious that the<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_252" id="Page_252">[252]</a></span> -craving was still there, and he knew that the thing he -wanted was the panacea for the thoughts that oppressed -him. By its means all the aches of his body would be -cured and the pain of his thoughts. Yes! He stopped at -the table and took up a cigarette. But there was one -thing in him, one thing more important than physical -pain, than physical exhaustion or singing nerves, one -small celestial spark that he had kindled, fostered, and -tended which had warmed and comforted his entire being—the -glow of his returning self-respect; and this thing -he knew, if those physical pangs were cured, would die.</p> - -<p>He took up his measured tread of the floor, counting -his footsteps from window to door and back again, watching -the patterns in the rug and picking out the figures -upon which he was to put his feet. Once or twice his footsteps -led him as though unconsciously to the cabinet in the -corner, where he stopped with a short laugh. He had forgotten -that there was no panacea there. Later on he -rang the bell for Barker, only to remember that the man -had gone away for the night. He wanted some one to -talk to—some one—any one who could make him forget. -What was the use? What did it matter to any one but -himself if he forgot or not? What was he fighting for? -For himself? Yesterday and the days before he had been -fighting for Jane, fighting gladly—downtown, in his -clubs, at people’s houses, in the Enemy’s country, where -the Enemy was to be found at every corner, at his very -elbow, because he knew that nothing could avail against -his purpose to win Jane back to him.</p> - -<p>Now he had no such purpose. Jane had turned from -him because some one had lied about him, turned away and -left him here alone in the dark with this hideous thing that -was rising up in him and would not let him think.</p> - -<p>He went to the table and filled a pipe with trembling<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_253" id="Page_253">[253]</a></span> -fingers. A terror oppressed him, the imminence of a danger. -It was the horror of being alone, alone in the room -where this thing was. He knew it well. It had been here -before and it had conquered him. It lurked in the dark -corners and grinned from his bookshelves and laughed in -the crackling of his fire. “Come,” he could hear it say, -“don’t you remember old Omar?</p> - -<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0">“Come, fill the Cup, and in the Fire of Spring<br /></span> -<span class="i3">The Winter Garment of Repentance fling;<br /></span> -<span class="i1">The Bird of Time has but a little way<br /></span> -<span class="i3">To fly—and Lo! the Bird is on the Wing.”<br /></span> -</div></div> - -<p>His pulses throbbed and his head was burning, though -a cold sweat had broken out on his brows and temples, -and his feet were cold—ice cold. The tobacco had no -taste, and it only parched his throat the more. He -stumbled into the bathroom and bathed his head and -hands in the cold water, and drank of it in huge gulps. -That relieved him for a moment and he went back to his -chair and took up his book.</p> - -<p>His sickness came back upon him slowly, a premonitory -faintness and then a gripping, aching fire within. -The book trembled in his hands and the type swam in -strange shapes. He clenched his fingers, threw the book -from him and rose with an oath, reaching for his hat and -coat and stumbling toward the door. Downstairs, less -than a block away——</p> - -<p>Beside the bookcase he caught a glimpse of his image -in the pier glass. He stopped, glared at himself and -straightened.</p> - -<p>“Where are you going, d——n you? Where? Like -a thief in the night? Look at me! You can’t! Where -are you going?”</p> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_254" id="Page_254">[254]</a></span></p> - -<p>There was no answer but the laughter of the flames -and the sneer of a motor in the Avenue.</p> - -<p>His hand released the knob and he turned back into -the room, with eyes staring, teeth set and face ghastly.</p> - -<p>“No, by G——. You’ll not go, Phil Gallatin, not from -this room to-night—not for that. Do you hear? You’ll -fight this thing out here and now.”</p> - -<p>He dropped his coat and hat and strode like a fury to -the window. There he lay across the sill, and throwing -the sash open wide, drank the night air into his lungs in -deep breaths.</p> - -<p>In a moment the crisis had passed. After a while he -closed the window, came back into the room and sank -into his chair, utterly exhausted. His mind comprehended -dully that he had fought and won, not for Jane, nor for -his future, but for that small fire that was still glowing -in his breast. He closed his eyes and relaxed his clenched -fingers. His nerves still tingled but only slightly like the -tremor of harpstrings in a passing storm. He was very -tired and in a moment he fell asleep.</p> - -<p>When he awoke, the light of dawn was filtering in at -the windows. The lamp had gone out. He struck a match -and made a light. It was six o’clock. He had slept seven -hours. He yawned, stretched himself and looked at his -disordered reflection in the mirror, suddenly awake to -the beginning of a new day. The aches in his body had -gone and his mind was clear again. He leaned forward -upon the mantel and silently apostrophized his image.</p> - -<p>“You’re going to win, Phil Gallatin. Do you hear? -You’re <em>not</em> afraid. You don’t care what the world says. -You’re not fighting for the world’s opinion. It’s only -your own opinion of yourself that matters a d——n. -If you win that, you’ve won everything in the world worth -winning.”</p> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_255" id="Page_255">[255]</a></span></p> - -<p>He laughed pleasantly and his image smiled back at -him.</p> - -<p>“Salut! Monsieur! You’re a good sort after all! -You’ve got more sand than I thought you had. I’m -beginning to like you a great deal. You can look me in -the eye now, straight in the eye. That’s right. We understand -each other.”</p> - -<p>He faced around into the room which had been the -scene of so many of his failures, and of his last and greatest -success. The light from the windows was growing -brighter. It was painting familiar objects with pale violet -patches, glinting on glassware and porcelain like the cold -light of intellect, which now dominated the merely physical. -He swept the room with a glance. Before the light -the shadows were fading. The Enemy——</p> - -<p>There <em>was</em> no Enemy!</p> - -<p>Gallatin poked down the embers of the fire and heaped -on wood and coal. He stripped to his underclothes, did -twenty minutes with dumb-bells and chest weights, and -then went in to draw his bath, singing. He soused himself -in the cold water and came out with chattering teeth, but -in a moment his body was all aglow.</p> - -<p>“It’s a good body,” he mused as he rubbed it, “a -perfectly good body, too good to abuse. There’s a soul -inside there, too. Where, nobody seems to know, but it’s -there and it isn’t in the stomach, and that’s a sure thing, -though that’s where the stomach thinks it is. We’ll give -this body a chance, if you please, a square deal all -around.”</p> - -<p>He chuckled and thumped himself vigorously, as -though to assure himself of the thoroughness of his recuperation. -Seven o’clock found him on the street walking -vigorously in the direction of the Park. He knew that -there was no chance of meeting Jane Loring at this hour<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_256" id="Page_256">[256]</a></span> -of the morning, but he chose the west side that he might -not even see the marble mass where she was sleeping, for -the memory of what had happened there yesterday -rankled like an angry wound.</p> - -<p>He breakfasted at the Cosmos at eight, and before -nine was at the office where he finished the morning mail -before even Tooker and the clerks were aware of his presence -there. There were many threads of the Sanborn -case still at a loose end and he spent a long while writing -and dictating to his stenographer, who was still at his -side, when, at about eleven o’clock, the office boy brought -in Nina Jaffray’s card.</p> - -<p>He was still looking at it when Nina entered.</p> - -<p>“I was afraid you might be busy, Phil,” she said -calmly, “but I wanted to see you about something.”</p> - -<p>He nodded to his stenographer and she took up her -papers and went.</p> - -<p>“The mountain wouldn’t come to Mahomet and -so——”</p> - -<p>“Do sit down, Nina.”</p> - -<p>“I’m not interrupting you <em>very</em> much, am I?”</p> - -<p>He laughed.</p> - -<p>“No. I’m glad you came, if only to prove to my -friends that I really <em>do</em> work.”</p> - -<p>“Oh, is <em>that</em> all?”</p> - -<p>“No. I’m glad to see you for other reasons.”</p> - -<p>“I’m curious to know them.”</p> - -<p>“To be assured, for one thing, that you’ve forgiven me -for my boorishness——”</p> - -<p>“Oh, that! Yes. Of course.”</p> - -<p>“And for another—that your mood will spare me the -pains of further making a fool of myself.”</p> - -<p>Nina shrugged lightly and laughed at him.</p> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_257" id="Page_257">[257]</a></span></p> - -<p>“Of course you know your limitations, Phil. How -could I promise you that?”</p> - -<p>Gallatin smiled at her. She was very fetching this -morning in a wide dark beaver hat with a lilac veil, and -her well-cut tailor-made, snugly fitting in the prevailing -mode, defined the long lines of her slim figure which seemed -in his office chair to be very much at its ease.</p> - -<p>“<em>Will</em> you be serious?”</p> - -<p>“In a moment. For the present I’m so overjoyed at -seeing you, that I’ve forgotten what I came for. Oh, yes—Phil, -I’m hopelessly compromised and you’ve done it. -Don’t laugh and don’t alarm yourself. You’re doing both -at the same time—but I really am—seriously compromised. -There’s a story going around that you and I——”</p> - -<p>“Yes, I’ve heard it,” he said grimly.</p> - -<p>“What interest people can possibly discover in the -mishaps of a belated platonic couple in a snowstorm is -more than I can fathom. Of course, if there had been -anything for them to talk about, I’d have come off scot-free. -As it is I’m pilloried in the market place as a warning -to budding innocence! Imagine it! Me! I’m everything -that’s naughty, from Eve to Guinevere. It would -be quite sad, if it wasn’t so amusing. Weren’t we the very -presentment of amatory felicity? Can’t you see us now, -swathed in our fur coats, sitting like two bundled mummies -upon each side of that monstrosity they called a -stove, ‘The Parlor Heater,’ that was the name, from Higgins -and Harlow, Phila., Pa., done in nickel at the top. -Can’t you see us sitting upright on those dreadful hair-cloth -chairs, silent and so miserable? That, my dear -Philip, was the seductive hour in which I fell from grace. -Touching picture, isn’t it?”</p> - -<p>Gallatin refused to smile.</p> - -<p>“Who told this story, Nina?”</p> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_258" id="Page_258">[258]</a></span></p> - -<p>“The chauffeur probably. I discharged him the next -day.”</p> - -<p>“Of course—that was it. But it’s such a silly yarn. -Who will believe it——?”</p> - -<p>She threw up her hands in mock despair.</p> - -<p>“Every one—unfortunately. You see Coley Van Duyn -didn’t help matters any by telling about your kissing me -on the stairs.”</p> - -<p>“D——n him,” said Phil, through his teeth.</p> - -<p>“Besides, I’ve been careless of their opinion for so -long that people are only glad to get something tangible.”</p> - -<p>“But it isn’t tangible. That farmer out there -could——”</p> - -<p>Nina raised her hand.</p> - -<p>“Denial is confession, my dear. I shall deny nothing. -I shall only smile. In my saddest moments the memory -of Higgins and Harlow’s parlor heater with its nickel -icicles around the top will restore my equanimity. I don’t -think I’ve ever before really appreciated the true symbolism -of the nickel icicle.”</p> - -<p>Gallatin had risen and was pacing the floor before -her.</p> - -<p>“This gossip must be stopped,” he said scowling at -the rug. “If I can’t stop it in one way, I can in another.”</p> - -<p>“And drag my shattered fabric into the rumpus? No, -thanks. <i lang="fr" xml:lang="fr">J’y suis—j’y reste.</i> The rôle of martyr becomes -me. In my own eyes I’m already canonized. I think I like -the sensation. It has the merit of being a novel one at -any rate.”</p> - -<p>“Nina, do stop talking nonsense,” he put in impatiently. -“I’m not going to sit here placidly and let them -tell this lie.”</p> - -<p>“Well,”—Nina leaned back in her chair and tilted<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_259" id="Page_259">[259]</a></span> -her head sideways—“what are you going to do about -it?”</p> - -<p>“I’ll make them answer to me—personally. It was -my fault. I ought to have walked home, I suppose.”</p> - -<p>“But you didn’t—that’s the rub. They won’t answer -to you personally anyway, at least nobody but the chauffeur, -and he might do it—er—unpleasantly.”</p> - -<p>“I’ll thrash him—I’ll break his——”</p> - -<p>“No, you won’t. It wouldn’t do the least bit of good, -and besides it would make matters worse if <em>he</em> thrashed -<em>you</em>. There’s only one thing left for you to do, my -friend.”</p> - -<p>“What?”</p> - -<p>“Marry me!”</p> - -<p>Phil Gallatin stopped pacing the floor and faced her, -frowning.</p> - -<p>“You still insist on that joke?”</p> - -<p>“I do. And it’s no joke. It seems to be the least -thing that you can do, under the circumstances.”</p> - -<p>“Oh, is it?”</p> - -<p>“Of course. You wouldn’t leave things as they are, -would you? Think of my shrinking susceptibilities, the -atrocious significance of your negligence. Really, Phil, I -don’t see how you can refuse me!”</p> - -<p>Gallatin laughed. He understood her now.</p> - -<p>“I’m immensely flattered. I’ll marry you with great -pleasure——”</p> - -<p>“Oh, thanks.”</p> - -<p>“If I ever decide to marry any one.”</p> - -<p>“Phil!”</p> - -<p>She glanced past him out of the window, smiling. -“And you’re not going to marry—any one?”</p> - -<p>“No.”</p> - -<p>“I was afraid you might be.” She rose and took up<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_260" id="Page_260">[260]</a></span> -her silver bric-a-brac which clanked cheerfully. She had -learned what she came for.</p> - -<p>“Oh, well, I won’t despair. I’m not half bad, you -know. Think it over. Some day, perhaps.”</p> - -<p>“It would be charming, I’m sure,” he said politely.</p> - -<p>“And, Phil——” She paused.</p> - -<p>“What?”</p> - -<p>“Come and see a fellow once in a while, won’t you? -You know, propinquity is love’s <em>alter ego</em>.”</p> - -<p>“I’m sure of it. Perhaps that’s why I’m afraid to -come.”</p> - -<p>She laughed again as she went out and he followed -her to the door of the outer office where Miss Crenshaw -and Miss Gillespie scrutinized her perfectly appointed -costume and then tossed their heads the fraction of an -inch, adjusted their sidecombs and went on with their -work.</p> - -<hr class="chap" /> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_261" id="Page_261">[261]</a></span></p> - - - - -<div class="chapter"> -<h2><a name="XXII" id="XXII">XXII</a><br /> -<small>SMOKE AND FIRE</small></h2> -</div> - - -<p class="cap">Downstairs Miss Jaffray entered her machine -and was driven northward.</p> - -<p>It is not for a moment to be supposed during -the weeks which followed Mr. Egerton’s party that Miss -Jaffray had retired from the social scene. And if her -rebuff at Phil Gallatin’s hands had dampened the ardor -of her enjoyment, no sign of it appeared. She was more -joyously satirical, more unmitigably bored, more obtrusively -indifferent than ever. But those who knew Nina -best discovered a more daring unconvention in her opinions -and a caustic manner of speech which spared no one, -not even herself. She was, if anything, a concentrated -essence of Nina Jaffray.</p> - -<p>A woman’s potentiality for mischief proceeds in inverse -ratio to her capacity for benevolence, and Nina’s -altruism was subjective. She gave her charity unaffectedly -to all four-legged things except the fox, which had been -contributed to the economic scheme by a beneficent Providence -for the especial uses of cross-country riders. She -spent much care and sympathy upon her horses, and -exacted its equivalent in muscular energy. Two-legged -things enjoyed her liking in the exact proportion that -they contributed to her amusement or in the measure -that they did not interfere with her plans.</p> - -<p>But the word benevolent applied to Nina with about as -much fitness as it would to the Tropic of Capricorn.</p> - -<p>The motto of New York is “The Devil Take the<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_262" id="Page_262">[262]</a></span> -Hindmost,” and it feelingly voiced Nina’s sentiments in -the world and in the hunting field. She had always made -it a practice to ride well up with the leaders, and to keep -clear of the underbrush, and had never had much sympathy -for the laggards. There was a Spartan quality in -her point of view with regard to others, which remained -to be put to the test with regard to herself. The occasion -for such a test, it seemed, had arrived. For the first -time in her life she was apparently denied the thing she -most wanted. She had even been willing to acknowledge -to herself that she wouldn’t have wanted Phil Gallatin if -she hadn’t discovered that he wanted some one else.</p> - -<p>But her liking for him had been transmuted into a -warmer regard with a rapidity which really puzzled her -and forced her to the conclusion that she had cared for -him always. And Phil Gallatin’s indifference had stimulated -her interest in him to a degree which made it necessary -for her to win him away from Jane Loring at all -hazards.</p> - -<p>She was not in the least unhappy about the matter. -Here was a real difficulty to be overcome, the first in personal -importance that she had ever faced, and she met it -with a smile, aware that all of the arts which a woman -may use (and some which she may not) must be brought -into play to accomplish her ends.</p> - -<p>As a matter of fact, Nina’s mechanism was working -at the highest degree of efficiency and she was taking a -real delight in life, such as she had never before experienced. -Since the “Pot and Kettle” affair she had -thought much and deeply, had noted Coleman Van Duyn’s -attentions to Jane Loring, and her acceptance of them, -had heard with an uncommon interest of their reported -engagement and had kept herself informed as to the -goings and comings of Phil Gallatin. And she read Jane<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_263" id="Page_263">[263]</a></span> -Loring as one may read an open book. Their personal -relations were the perfection of amiability. They had -met informally on several occasions when Nina had noted -with well-concealed amusement the slightly exaggerated -warmth of Jane’s greeting, and had taken care to return -this display of friendship in kind. Everything added to -the conviction that Jane’s love of Phil was only exceeded -by her hatred of Nina Jaffray.</p> - -<p>And yet until this morning Nina had had moments of -uncertainty, for the incident Jane had witnessed was too -trivial to stand the test of sober second thought, and -Jane was just silly enough to forgive and forget it.</p> - -<p>Nina’s visit to Phil Gallatin’s office had agreeably -surprised her, for Phil had made it perfectly clear that -his estrangement from Jane still existed. But to make -the matter doubly sure, Nina had decided to play a card -she had been holding in reserve. In other words, more -smoke was needed and Nina was prepared to provide the -fuel.</p> - -<p>First she met Coleman Van Duyn by appointment at -her own house, and they had a long chat, during which, -without his being aware of it, he was the subject of a -searching examination which had for its object the revelation -of the exact relation between himself and Miss Loring. -Even Coley, it seemed, was not satisfied with the -state of affairs. They were not engaged. No. He was -willing to admit it, but he had hopes that before the winter -was over Miss Loring would see things his way. His -dislike of Phil Gallatin was thinly veiled and Nina played -upon it with a skill which left nothing to be desired, to -the end that at the last Coley came out into the open and -declared himself flat-footed.</p> - -<p>“I don’t know—your relations with him, Nina. Don’t -care, really. You know your way about and all that sort<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_264" id="Page_264">[264]</a></span> -of thing, but he’s going it too strong. I’m tired of beatin’ -about the bush. I know a thing or two about Phil Gallatin -and I’ll tell ’em soon. It’s time people knew the sort -of a Johnny that fellow is.”</p> - -<p>“Oh, I know, Coley. You’re prejudiced. You’ve got -a right to be. A man doesn’t want any scandal hanging -around the name of the girl he’s going to marry. Everybody -knows, of course, that Phil and Jane Loring were -together last summer up in the woods and that——”</p> - -<p>Van Duyn had risen, his eyes more protrusive, his face -more purple than was good for him. It was the first time -he had heard that story spoken of with such freedom, and -it shocked him.</p> - -<p>“It wasn’t Jane,” he roared. “She wasn’t the only -woman in Canada last summer. How do you know it was -Jane?”</p> - -<p>“She admitted it,” said Nina sadly.</p> - -<p>“Oh, she did! Well, what of it? If I don’t care, what -business is it of anybody else? She suits me and I’m going -to marry her.”</p> - -<p>He stopped and glared at Nina, as though it was she -who was the sole author of his unhappiness. Nina only -smiled up at him encouragingly.</p> - -<p>“Of course, you are. That’s one of the things I -wanted to see you about. I think I can help you, Coley, -if you’ll let me.”</p> - -<p>She made him sit down again and when he was more -composed, went on.</p> - -<p>“You see it’s this way. I don’t mind your running -Phil down, if it gives you any pleasure, but you might -as well know that I don’t share your opinions. He isn’t -your sort, you don’t understand him, and he has managed -to come between you and Jane. But I don’t see the slightest -use in getting excited. These silly romantic affairs<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_265" id="Page_265">[265]</a></span> -of the teens are seldom really dangerous. Phil’s infirmities -excited her pity.”</p> - -<p>“His infirmities!”</p> - -<p>“Yes, but Jane Loring isn’t the kind of a girl to put -up with that kind of thing long.”</p> - -<p>“Rather—not!”</p> - -<p>“Oh, I don’t mean what you do. I mean that she -isn’t suited to him, that’s all. There are other women -who might marry him and make something of him.”</p> - -<p>“Who?” he sneered.</p> - -<p>“I,” she said calmly.</p> - -<p>Her quiet tone transfixed him.</p> - -<p>“You want to—to marry him?”</p> - -<p>“Yes—and I’m going to. Perhaps you understand -now how we can help each other.”</p> - -<p>“By George! I hadn’t an idea, Nina. I knew you’d -been flirting with him—and all that—but marriage!”</p> - -<p>She nodded.</p> - -<p>“You <em>are</em> a good sort,” he grinned. “Do you really -mean it? Of course I’ll help you if I can, but I hardly -see——”</p> - -<p>“You don’t have to see. Jane Loring may still have a -fancy for Phil Gallatin, but it ought to be perfectly -obvious that she can’t marry him if he’s going to marry -me. All I want you to do just now is to make yourself -necessary to Jane Loring. Propose to her again to-morrow,” -and then with convincing assurance, “I think she’ll -accept you.”</p> - -<p>“You do? Why?”</p> - -<p>“That, if you’ll pardon me, is a matter I do not -care to discuss.” She arose and dismissed him gracefully, -and Van Duyn wandered forth into Gramercy Park -with a feeling very like that of a timorous hospital patient -who has for the first time been subjected to the X-ray.</p> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_266" id="Page_266">[266]</a></span></p> - -<p>Nina lunched alone, then dressed for the afternoon -and ordered her machine. She had made no mistake in -presupposing that Jane Loring’s curiosity would outweigh -her prejudices. In their talk upon the telephone -there had been a slight hesitation, scarcely noticeable, on -Jane’s part, after which, she had expressed herself as delighted -at the opportunity of seeing Nina at the Loring -house.</p> - -<p>Miss Jaffray entered the portals of the vast establishment, -her slender figure lost in the great drawing-room, -as she moved restlessly from one object of art to -another awaiting her hostess, like a mischievous and lonely -bacillus newly liberated into a new field of endeavor.</p> - -<p>“Nina, dear!” said Jane effusively as she entered. -“<em>So</em> sweet of you. I haven’t really had a chance to have -a talk with you for <em>ages</em>.”</p> - -<p>“How wonderfully pretty you look, Jane? I’m simply -<em>wild</em> with envy of you.”</p> - -<p>It was the feminine convention. Each pecked the -other just once below the eye and each wished that the -other had never been born. Jane led the way into the -library where they sat side by side on the big divan, where -they both skillfully maneuvered for an opening for a while, -feinting and parrying carte and tierce, advancing, retreating, -neither of them willing to risk a thrust.</p> - -<p>But at last, the preliminaries having given her the -touch of her opponent’s foil, Nina returned.</p> - -<p>“You’re really the success of the season, Jane. And -you know when a back number like I am admits a thing -like that about a débutante, it’s pretty apt to be true. -But the thing I can’t understand is why you want to end -it all and marry.”</p> - -<p>“Marry—whom?”</p> - -<p>“Coley.”</p> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_267" id="Page_267">[267]</a></span></p> - -<p>“Oh, you have some private source of information on -the subject?” Jane asked pleasantly.</p> - -<p>“None but your own actions,” Nina replied coolly. -“It’s funny, too, because I’ve had an idea—ever since -that Dryad story—I’ve feared that you were rather keen -on Phil Gallatin.”</p> - -<p>Nina was forced to admiration of the carelessness of -Jane’s parry.</p> - -<p>“Mr. Gallatin!” she said, her eyes wide with wonder. -“What in the world made you think of him? If -I was ever grateful to the man for his kindness up there -in the woods, every instinct in me revolted at the memory -of what people said of us. Do you think I could care for -a man who would let a thing like that be told?” She -hesitated a moment and then added, “Besides, there are -other reasons why Mr. Gallatin and I could never be -friends.”</p> - -<p>“Oh, I see,” Nina said slowly, her gaze on the fire. -“You know, I’m very fond of Phil, and though you may -not approve of him, he’s really one of the best fellows -in the world.”</p> - -<p>“Well, why don’t you marry him?” said Jane carelessly.</p> - -<p>“Marry! Me!” Nina laughed softly up at the portrait -over the mantel. “Good Lord, Jane, you want to -bridle me! No, thanks. I’ve only one life, you know, and -I hardly feel like spending it on the Bridge of Sighs. <em>My</em> -recording angel wouldn’t stand domestication. She’s on -the point of giving up the job already. I suppose I’ll -have to marry some day, but when I do I’ll select the -quiet, elderly widower of some capable person who has -trained him properly. A well-trained husband may be a -dull blessing, but he’s safe. Not Phil Gallatin, my dear. -The girl who marries Phil will have her hands full. But<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_268" id="Page_268">[268]</a></span> -he’s <em>such</em> a dear! So solemn, so innocent-looking, as -though butter wouldn’t melt in his mouth, and yet——” -she paused and sighed audibly.</p> - -<p>Jane glanced at her and was silent.</p> - -<p>“I’ve never thought of Phil as a marrying man,” Nina -went on. “The thing is impossible, and I’d very much -rather have him as he is. But it does seem a pity about -him because he has so many virtues—and he—he really -makes love like an angel.”</p> - -<p>“Does he?” asked Jane, yawning politely. “But -then so many men do that.”</p> - -<p>“Yes—I suppose so, but Phil is different somehow.”</p> - -<p>Jane laughed. “Yes, I gathered that—at the ‘Pot -and Kettle.’”</p> - -<p>Nina glanced up and away. “You <em>did</em> see? It’s a -pity. I’m sorry. Quite imprudent of me, wasn’t it? I -suppose I ought to be horribly mortified, but I’m not. -I’ve reached a point where I’m quite hardened to people’s -opinions—even to yours, Jane. But I confess I <em>was</em> bothered -a little about that. I <em>am</em> glad you don’t care for -Phil, because it would have been awkward and it might -have made a difference in our friendship. You’d have been -sorry, wouldn’t you?”</p> - -<p>Jane swallowed. “Oh—of course, I would.”</p> - -<p>“But it doesn’t matter now whether you saw or not, -because I’m sure that you and Coley understand.”</p> - -<p>“I’m not sure that I do understand,” said Jane with -a smile toward the cloisonné jar at the window. “As a -form of diversion I can’t say that kissing has ever appealed -to me.”</p> - -<p>“But then, you know, Jane, you’re very young—may -I say verdant? It’s an innocent amusement, if considered -so. The harm of it is in considering it harmful. -You’re a hopeless little Puritan. I can’t see how you<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_269" id="Page_269">[269]</a></span> -and I have got along so well. I suppose it’s because we’re -so different.”</p> - -<p>“Yes, perhaps that’s it. But I’m sure we wouldn’t -be nearly so friendly if we ever interfered with each -other.”</p> - -<p>“I’m glad we haven’t, Jane, darling. I’ve really gotten -into the way of depending on your friendship. You -don’t think I’ve strained it a little to-day by my—er—modern -view of old conventions?”</p> - -<p>“Not at all. For a Puritan I’m surprisingly liberal. -I don’t care at all whom my friends kiss—or why. It’s -none of my affair. I’d hardly make it so unless I was -asked to.”</p> - -<p>Nina laid her fingers on Jane’s arm. “But we <em>do</em> -understand each other, don’t we, Jane?”</p> - -<p>“Yes, wonderfully. I’m so glad that you think it -worth while to confide in me.”</p> - -<p>“I do. You’re so sensible and tolerant. I’m almost -too much of a freethinker for most people, and they’re -ready to believe almost anything of me. But you don’t -care what they say, do you, Jane?”</p> - -<p>“No, I don’t, Nina. It wouldn’t make the slightest -difference to me what people said of you.”</p> - -<p>And this was the truth, perhaps the first truth in -fact or by inference which either of them had uttered. -So far so good. Honors were even. Each of them was -aware that the other was a hypocrite, each of them was -playing the game of hide and seek, bringing into play -all the arts of dissimulation to which the sex is heir. All -is fair in love and war. This was both. Under such conditions, -to the feminine conscience anything is justifiable. -Nina had begun the combat with leisurely assurance; -Jane, with a contempt which fortified her against mishap. -The manners of each were friendly and confiding, their<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_270" id="Page_270">[270]</a></span> -tones caressing, but neither of them deceived the other -and each of them knew that she didn’t. Nina had taken -the initiative. She had a mission and in this was at a -slight advantage, for Jane had not yet begun to suspect -what that mission was. She had made up her mind, feminine -fashion, not to believe what Nina wanted her to -believe; but before long she began to find that Nina was -mixing truth and fiction with such skill that it was difficult -to distinguish one from the other.</p> - -<p>The dangers of the social jungle develop remarkable -perceptions in deer and bird of paradise, but these defensive -instincts are not always proof against the craft -of the cat tribe. If they were, the cat tribe would -long since have ceased to exist as a species. Other things -being equal, the stalker of prey has all the advantage. -Nina knew that Jane knew that she was lying. So, to gain -her point, she was prepared if necessary to use the simple -expedient of <em>telling the truth</em>.</p> - -<p>Nina was leaning forward, her chin in her hand, her -gaze on the rug.</p> - -<p>“You’ve heard, I suppose, this story people are telling -about Phil and me,” she said in a lower tone.</p> - -<p>“No,” said Jane in tones of curiosity. “Is it something -very dreadful?”</p> - -<p>“I’m afraid it is—at least people seem to think it -so. It began with an accident to my motor and ended -at a Parlor Heater.”</p> - -<p>“A Parlor Heater! Do go on, Nina. I’m immensely -interested.”</p> - -<p>“Phil and I, on the way home from Egerton’s party, -you remember? He went home in my motor. I know -people thought it awfully rude of us as the other motors -were so crowded—but it just happened so and we started -home alone—after all the others had gone. We ran out<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_271" id="Page_271">[271]</a></span> -of oil and had to put up for the night where we could. -Unfortunate wasn’t it? We were miles from nowhere -and not a gallon of gasoline in sight. The farmer seemed -to think we were suspicious characters, but he let us in -at last to sit beside his stove until morning. I’m sure -he was peeping over the balusters most of the time to -be sure we didn’t make off with the family Bible.” Nina -laughed at the recollection, a little more loudly than -seemed necessary.</p> - -<p>“Phil was very sweet about it all. He was so afraid -of compromising me, poor fellow. I really felt very sorry -for him. The farmer wouldn’t volunteer to help us, so -Phil wanted to trudge the five miles through the snow to -get the oil. But I wouldn’t let him. I <em>couldn’t</em>, Jane. -It was frightfully lonely there. The chauffeur was drunk -and I was afraid.”</p> - -<p>“Y—you were quite right,” said Jane in a suppressed -tone.</p> - -<p>Nina glanced at her and went on.</p> - -<p>“We sat all night huddled in our furs on opposite -sides of that dreadful parlor stove. I don’t think I can -ever forget it. I’ve never been so miserable in my life—never! -We spoke to each other in monosyllables for -a while and at last—er—I went to sleep in disgust. I -woke up with a frightful pain in my back from that -dreadful chair. What a night! And to think that it was -for this—<em>this</em>, that Phil and I have been talked about! -It’s maddening, Jane. If we only had given them a -little flame, just a tiny one—for all this smoke! Poor -Phil! He was terribly provoked about it this morning. -He wants to kill that wretched chauffeur, for of course -the whole story came from him. You know, Jane, I discharged -him as soon as we got back to town, and this -was his revenge. Sweet, wasn’t it? It seems as if one<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_272" id="Page_272">[272]</a></span> -was very much at the mercy of one’s mechanician. -They’re servants, of course, but you can never get them -to think that they are. I haven’t dared tell father. I -don’t know what <em>he</em> would do about it. I’m afraid——”</p> - -<p>Jane Loring had risen and was looking out of the -window into the gathering dusk.</p> - -<p>“What’s the use, Nina?” she asked quietly.</p> - -<p>“The use of what?”</p> - -<p>“Telling me all this. I understand, I think.”</p> - -<p>“I hope you do,” said Nina quickly. “I wanted you -to. That’s why I told you.”</p> - -<p>She got up and took a few rapid paces forward.</p> - -<p>“Jane!” she cried suddenly. “What do you mean? -That I—<em>you</em> believe—? Oh, how could you?”</p> - -<p>She stood a moment, her face hidden in her hands, -as though the horror of it all had just come to her.</p> - -<p>Jane Loring faced around calmly, her face grave.</p> - -<p>“What difference does it make what I believe?” she -asked.</p> - -<p>Nina looked at her a long while, then dropped her -gaze, turned away and picked up her accessories. Her -mission here was ended.</p> - -<p>“I’m sorry. I seem to have misjudged you—your -friendship.”</p> - -<p>“Yes,” said Jane. “I think perhaps you have.”</p> - -<p>Nina moved toward the door, and Jane, motionless, -watched her. She did not speak again—nor did Jane; -and in a moment the door closed between them—for the -last time.</p> - -<p>Nina was smiling when she entered her machine, but -Jane climbed the stairs wearily.</p> - -<hr class="chap" /> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_273" id="Page_273">[273]</a></span></p> - - - - -<div class="chapter"> -<h2><a name="XXIII" id="XXIII">XXIII</a><br /> -<small>THE MOUSE AND THE LION</small></h2> -</div> - - -<p class="cap">There was an activity in the offices of Kenyon, -Hood and Gallatin chiefly centering around the -doings of the youngest member of the firm which -had caused the methodical Tooker some skeptical and -unquiet moments. He had witnessed these spurts of -industry before and remembered that they had always -presaged the bursting of a bubble and the disappearance -of the junior partner for a protracted period, -at the end of which he would return to the -office, pale, nervous and depressed. But as the weeks -went by, far beyond the time usually marked for -this event, Tooker began to realize that something unusual -had happened. The chief clerk could hardly be -called an observant man, for his business in life kept him -in a narrow groove, but he awoke one morning to the -discovery that a remarkable change had taken place in -the manner and bearing of Mr. Gallatin. There were -none of those fidgety movements of the fingers, that quick -and sometimes overbearing speech, or the habit Mr. Gallatin -had had (as his father had had it before him) -of pacing up and down the floor of his room, his hands -behind his back, his brows bent over sullen eyes. Mr. -Gallatin’s manner and speech were quieter, his gaze more -direct and more lasting. He smiled more, and his capacity -for work seemed unlimited. Tooker waited for -a long while, and then came to the conclusion that a<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_274" id="Page_274">[274]</a></span> -new order of things had begun and that the junior partner -had found himself.</p> - -<p>There had been frequent important conferences in -Mr. Kenyon’s office between the partners during which -Philip Gallatin had advised the firm of the progress of -the Sanborn case, but it was clear that for the present -at least the junior partner dominated the situation. All -his life Tooker had been accustomed to follow in the -footsteps of others, and was prepared to follow Gallatin -gladly, if the junior partner would give him footsteps -to follow. And he was now beginning to appreciate the -significance of those long visits of Mr. Gallatin in Pennsylvania, -and the infinite care and study with which Gallatin -had fortified himself. He understood, too, what -those piles of documents on Mr. Gallatin’s desk were for, -and in the conferences of the firm, when John Kenyon’s -incisive voice cut in, he realized that it was more often in -encouragement, advice, and appreciation, than in contention -or argument.</p> - -<p>The Sanborn Company’s directors were represented -by the firm of Whitehead, Leuppold, Tyson and Leuppold. -This was one of the firms previously mentioned which had -offices upon an upper floor and included among its clients -many large corporations closely identified with “The Interests.” -A correspondence had been passing between Mr. -Gallatin and Mr. Leuppold with all of which Tooker was -familiar. Mr. Gallatin’s early letters stated that he -hoped for a conference with Mr. Loring. Mr. Leuppold’s -first replies were couched in polite formulas, the equivalent -of which was, in plain English, that Mr. Gallatin -might go to the devil, saying that Mr. Loring had nothing -to do with the matter. Mr. Gallatin’s reply ignored -this suggestion, and again proposed a conference. Mr. -Leuppold refused in abrupt terms. Mr. Gallatin gave<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_275" id="Page_275">[275]</a></span> -reasons for his request. Mr. Leuppold couldn’t see them. -Mr. Gallatin patiently gave other reasons. Mr. Leuppold -ignored this letter. Mr. Gallatin wrote another. Mr. -Leuppold in reply considered the matter closed. Mr. Gallatin -considered the matter just opened. Mr. Leuppold -fulminated politely and satirically suggested intimidation. -Mr. Gallatin regretted Mr. Leuppold’s implication but -persisted, giving, as his reasons, the discovery of material -evidence.</p> - -<p>The next day Mr. Leuppold came in person, was -shown into Mr. Gallatin’s office and Tooker had been present -at the interview. It had been a memorable occasion. -Mr. Leuppold wore that suave and confident manner for -which he was noted and Gallatin received him with an old-fashioned -courtesy and the deference of a younger man for -an older, which left nothing to be desired. Accepting this -as his due, Leuppold began in a fatherly way to impress -upon Gallatin the utter futility of trying to win the injunction -in the Court of Appeals. The contentions of -Sanborn <i>et al.</i> had no basis either in law or in equity. Mr. -Gallatin had doubtless been unduly influenced by doubtful -precedents. He, Leuppold, was familiar with every phase -of the case and had defended the previous suit which had -been brought and lost by a legal firm in Philadelphia. -There was absolutely nothing in Mr. Gallatin’s position -as stated in his correspondence and he concluded by referring -“his young friend” to certain marked passages -in a volume which he had brought in under his arm. Gallatin -read the passages through with interest and listened -with a show of great seriousness to Mr. Leuppold’s interpretation -of them. Mr. Leuppold had a mien which commanded -attention. Gallatin gave it, but he said little in -reply which could indicate his possible ground of action, -except to express regret that Mr. Leuppold’s clients had<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_276" id="Page_276">[276]</a></span> -taken such an intolerant view of his own client’s claims -and to deplore the unfortunate tone of Mr. Leuppold’s -own letter of some days ago.</p> - -<p>When it was quite clear to Mr. Leuppold that the -young man was not to be moved by persuasion, his manner -changed.</p> - -<p>“I have done my best, Mr. Gallatin,” he said irritably, -“to prove to you the utter futility of your course. My -clients have nothing to fear. I am only trying to save -them the expense of further litigation. But if you insist -on bringing this case to trial, we will welcome the opportunity -to show further evidence in our possession. We -have been content for the sake of peace to let matters -go on as they have been going, but if this suit is pressed, -I warn you that it will be unfortunate for your clients.”</p> - -<p>“I hope not. I hope we won’t have to bring suit,” -replied Gallatin easily. “I’m only asking for a conference -of all the parties interested, Mr. Leuppold. That -certainly is little enough, an amicable conference, a discussion—if -you like——”</p> - -<p>“There is nothing to discuss.”</p> - -<p>“I beg to differ. Leaving aside for a moment the -question of the new evidence in the Sanborn case, do you -think that Mr. Loring, who controls its stock, would care -to have his connection with the Lehigh and Pottsville Railroad -Company brought into court?”</p> - -<p>Mr. Leuppold gasped. He couldn’t help it. How and -where had this polite but surprising young man obtained -this information, which no member of his own firm besides -himself possessed. It was uncanny. Was this the fellow -they had talked about and smiled over upstairs? Mr. -Leuppold took to cover skillfully, hiding his uneasiness -under a bland smile.</p> - -<p>“You’re dreaming, sir,” he said.</p> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_277" id="Page_277">[277]</a></span></p> - -<p>Gallatin shook his head.</p> - -<p>“No, I’m not dreaming.”</p> - -<p>Gallatin rose and took a few paces up and down the -room. “See here, Mr. Leuppold, I’m not prepared to -discuss the matter further now. I’ve asked you for a conference -and you call my request intimidation—which -might mean a much uglier thing. You’ve treated my correspondence -in a casual way and you’ve patronized me in -my own office. I’ve kept my temper pretty well, and I’m -keeping it still; but I warn you that you have been and -still are making a mistake. I’ve asked for a conference -because I believe this matter can be settled out of court, -and because I didn’t think it fair to your client to go to -court without giving him a chance to save himself. We -have no desire to enter into a long and expensive litigation, -but we are prepared to do so and will take the preliminary -steps at once, unless we have some immediate consideration -of our claims. If you stand suit on this appeal -you will lose, and I fancy the evidence presented will be -of such character that you will not care to take the matter -further. Don’t reply now, Mr. Leuppold. Think it over -and let me hear from you in writing.”</p> - -<p>Mr. Leuppold had not moved. He was watching Gallatin -keenly from under his beetling brows. Was this -mere guess work? What did the young man really know? -What evidence had he? Was it a bluff? If so, he made it -in tones with which Leuppold was unfamiliar. But it was -no time to back water now. He smiled approvingly at -Phil Gallatin’s inkwell.</p> - -<p>“Mr. Gallatin, your imagination does you credit. A -good lawyer must have intuition. But he’s got to have -discretion, too. You think, because the interests we represent -are wealthy ones, that you can throw a stick in our -direction and be sure of hitting something. Unfortunately<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_278" id="Page_278">[278]</a></span> -you have been misinformed—on all points. Mr. Loring -has voluntarily submitted his holdings in Pennsylvania to -investigation. You can never prove any connection between -the Pequot Coal Company and the Lehigh and -Pottsville Railroad. There is none.”</p> - -<p>He rose pompously and took up his hat and books.</p> - -<p>“There isn’t any use in our talking over this case. -It will lead us nowhere. But I’ll promise you if you’ll -put your proposition in writing to submit it to careful -consideration.”</p> - -<p>“Thanks,” said Gallatin dryly. He picked a large -envelope up from the table and handed it to his visitor. -“I have already done so. Will you take it with you or -shall I mail it?”</p> - -<p>“I—you may give it to me, Mr. Gallatin.”</p> - -<p>Gallatin walked to the outer door and politely bowed -him out, while Tooker, his thin frame writhing with -ecstasy, fussed with some papers on the big table in the -junior partner’s office until he was more composed, and -then went on about his daily routine. He realized now for -the first time the full stature of the junior partner. In -a night, it almost seemed to Tooker, he had outgrown his -boyhood, his brilliant wayward boyhood that had promised -so much and achieved so little. He was like his father -now, but there was a difference. Philip Gallatin, the -elder, he remembered, had dominated his office by the mere -force of his intellect. He had directed the preparation of -his cases with an unerring legal sense and he had won them -through his mastery of detail and the elimination of the -unessential. But it was when presenting his case to a -jury that he was at his strongest, for such was the personal -quality of his magnetism that jurors were willing -to be convinced less by the value of his cause than by the -magic of his sophistry. But to Tooker, who was little<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_279" id="Page_279">[279]</a></span> -more than a piece of legal machinery, there was something -in the methods of the son which compensated for -the more spectacular talents of the father, the painstaking -and diligent way in which Gallatin had planned and carried -out his present investigations and the confidence with -which he was putting his information to use. It was clear -to Tooker that Leuppold had been unprepared for Philip -Gallatin’s revelations. Even now Tooker doubted the -wisdom of them, for Mr. Leuppold would not be slow to -take advantage of his information and to cover the traces -left by his clients as well as he might. But when he spoke -of it to Gallatin, the junior partner had laughed.</p> - -<p>“Don’t you bother, old man. Wait a while. We’ll -hear from Mr. Leuppold very soon—before the week is -out, I think.”</p> - -<p>In the offices upstairs, Mr. Leuppold’s return was the -signal for an immediate consultation of the entire firm, -which would have flattered and encouraged Philip Gallatin -had he been aware of it. Mr. Tyson and Mr. Whitehead -discovered in Mr. Leuppold’s account of the interview -undue cause for alarm. They were themselves adepts in -the game Mr. Gallatin was evidently playing and could be -depended upon at the proper moment to out-maneuver -him. Mr. Leuppold disagreed and was forced to admit -the weakness of Mr. Loring’s position, if, as he suspected, -Mr. Gallatin had succeeded in fortifying himself with the -proper evidence. The stock was, of course, not in Mr. -Loring’s name, but a man of resource might have been able -to find means to establish a legal connection of the mine -with the railroad. Mr. Leuppold’s opinions usually bore -weight, but just now he seemed to have no definite opinions.</p> - -<p>The conference of the partners lasted until late in the -afternoon, during which time messengers came and went<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_280" id="Page_280">[280]</a></span> -between the firm’s offices and those of the Pequot Coal -Company and that of the President of the L. and P. -Henry K. Loring was out of town and would not return -until the end of the week. A wire was sent to him to return -to New York at once, and it was decided that no -reply to Mr. Gallatin’s letter should be sent until Mr. -Loring had been advised.</p> - -<p>Phil Gallatin, in high good humor, lunched that morning -with the senior partner at a fashionable restaurant uptown. -His work on the Sanborn case was finished. He -had been at it very hard for two months, and the two -of them had planned to spend the afternoon and following -day up at John Kenyon’s farm in Westchester, where -they would do some riding, some walking and some resting, -of which both were in need. The lunch was a preliminary -luxury and they found a table in a corner on the -Avenue and ordered.</p> - -<p>There was no talk of office matters. John Kenyon had -been thoroughly advised of Phil’s work and knew that -there was nothing in the way of suggestion or advice -that he could offer. He had noticed for some days the -gaunt look in his young partner’s face. There were indications -of his growing maturity and shadows of the -struggle through which he had passed, but there were -marks which John Kenyon knew belonged to a different -kind of trouble. Gallatin had told him what had happened -in the woods and Kenyon had learned something -of Phil’s romance in New York. But Kenyon was not -given to idle or curious questioning, and he knew that -when Phil was ready to speak of private matters he would -do so.</p> - -<p>Their oysters had been served and their planked fish -brought when a fashionable party entered and was conducted -by the head waiter to an adjoining table which<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_281" id="Page_281">[281]</a></span> -had been decorated for the occasion. Mrs. Pennington -led the way, followed by Miss Ledyard, Mrs. Perrine and -Miss Loring. Behind them followed Ogden Spencer, -Bibby Worthington, Colonel Broadhurst and Coleman -Van Duyn, who was, it appeared, the host.</p> - -<p>Phil had hoped that his presence might pass unnoticed; -but Nellie Pennington espied him and nodded gayly, so -that he had to rise and greet her. This drew the eyes -of others and when the party was seated he discovered -that Miss Loring, on Van Duyn’s right, was seated facing -him and that her eyes after one blank look in his direction -were assiduously turned elsewhere. John Kenyon caught -the change in Gallatin’s expression, but in a moment Phil -had resumed their conversation upon the comparative -merits of the Delaware River and Potomac River shad, and -their luncheon went on to its conclusion. But the spirits -of John Kenyon’s guest had fallen, and Kenyon’s most -persuasive stories failed to find a response. In spite of -himself Phil Gallatin found himself looking at Jane and -thinking of Arcadia. It was three weeks now since that -much to be remembered and regretted interview at the -Loring house had taken place. The glance he stole at -Jane assured him that if he had ever had a hope of reconciliation, -the chances for it were now more remote than -ever. She wore a huge hat which screened her effectually, -and the glimpses he had of her face showed it dimpling in -smiles for Coleman Van Duyn or Bibby Worthington, who -sat on either side of her. When their eyes had first met -he had thought her pale, but as the moments passed a -warm color mounted her cheeks. It seemed to Gallatin -that never before within his memory had she ever appeared -so care-free. She was youth untrammeled, a sister to -Euphrosyne, the spirit of joy. It seemed as if she realized -that the grim specter which had stolen into her life for a<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_282" id="Page_282">[282]</a></span> -while had been exorcised away, and that she had already -forgotten it in the beckoning of the jocund hours. Phil -Gallatin had come into her life and gone, leaving no trace -in her mind or in her heart.</p> - -<p>After this their eyes met but once. He was looking at -her, thinking of these things, oblivious of what John Kenyon -was saying, unaware of the intentness of his gaze, -which at last compelled her to look in his direction. It -was a startled glance that she gave him, wide-eyed, almost -fearful, as though he had challenged her to this silent -combat. Then her lids lowered insolently, her chin lifted -and she turned aside.</p> - -<p>Their coffee had been served. Phil gulped his down -hastily. “Come, Uncle John,” he said hoarsely. “Let’s -get out of this, will you?”</p> - -<p>John Kenyon paid the check and they rose. Unfortunately -the only path to the door lay by Mr. Van Duyn’s -table, and as Gallatin passed, nodding to his acquaintances, -Mrs. Pennington got up and stood in front of him.</p> - -<p>“I do so want to see you for a moment, Phil. Will -you excuse me, Coley?” she said, and led the way into a -room where she found an unoccupied corner. John Kenyon -went elsewhere to smoke his cigar.</p> - -<p>“Oh, Phil!” she whispered. “Why wouldn’t you -come to see me? I’ve had so much to talk to you about.”</p> - -<p>“I—I’ve been very busy, Nellie. I haven’t been anywhere.”</p> - -<p>“My house isn’t ‘anywhere.’ I want to talk to you—you -know what I mean.”</p> - -<p>“It won’t do any good, Nellie,” he muttered. “There -isn’t anything more to be said.”</p> - -<p>“Perhaps not—but I want to say it just the same. I -want you to promise——”</p> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_283" id="Page_283">[283]</a></span></p> - -<p>“I can’t,” he said hoarsely. “Don’t ask me to come -and talk to you—about that.”</p> - -<p>“Well, then, come and talk to me about other things.”</p> - -<p>“I can’t. If I come I must talk about what you -remind me of.”</p> - -<p>She hesitated, looking at him critically.</p> - -<p>“Phil, you’re an idiot,” she said at last.</p> - -<p>“Thanks,” he replied, “I’m aware of it.”</p> - -<p>“Are you going to give up?”</p> - -<p>“I’ve given up.”</p> - -<p>Nellie Pennington shrugged. “For good? You’re -going to let—Oh, I’ve no patience with you.”</p> - -<p>“I’m sorry. You did what you could and I’m thankful. -Don’t think I’m ungrateful. I’m not. One of these -days I’ll prove it. You did a lot. I’m awake, Nellie. -You woke me and I’m not going to sleep again.”</p> - -<p>“I’m proud of you, Phil, but you’re not awake—not -really awake or you couldn’t sit by and see the girl you -love forced into an engagement with a man she doesn’t -care for.”</p> - -<p>Gallatin flushed.</p> - -<p>“Is that—” he asked slowly, “is that what this—this -luncheon means?”</p> - -<p>“Judge for yourself. He is with her always. And -they’ve even rebelled against my chaperonage. Their relations -are talked of freely in Jane’s presence and she -laughs acquiescence. Imagine it!”</p> - -<p>Gallatin turned away.</p> - -<p>“I—I have no further interest in—in Miss Loring,” -he said quietly.</p> - -<p>“Well, <em>I</em> have. And I’m not going to let her make a -fool of herself if I can help it.”</p> - -<p>“Miss Loring will probably not agree with you.”</p> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_284" id="Page_284">[284]</a></span></p> - -<p>“I hardly expect her to.” She hesitated. “Phil,” -she asked at last.</p> - -<p>“What, Nellie?”</p> - -<p>“Will you answer a question?”</p> - -<p>“What?”</p> - -<p>“Was this story they’re telling about you and Nina -mentioned?”</p> - -<p>“Yes, it was.”</p> - -<p>“I thought so,” triumphantly. “Phil we must talk -this thing out.”</p> - -<p>“It can do no good——”</p> - -<p>“And no harm. There’s been a mistake somewhere—something -neither you nor I understand.” She stopped -and tapped her forehead with her index finger. “I can’t -tell what—but I sense it—here. Something has gone -wrong—what, I don’t know. I’ve got to think about it.”</p> - -<p>“Yes—it’s gone wrong—and it can’t be righted.”</p> - -<p>“Perhaps not,” she said rising. “But I <em>do</em> want you -to come to see me. Won’t you?”</p> - -<p>“You’re very persistent, aren’t you? Very well, I’ll -come.”</p> - -<p>“I must go now. Coley will be furious. I hope so, -at any rate.”</p> - -<p>She smiled at him again and went back to her luncheon -party while Gallatin found John Kenyon and drove -to the Grand Central station.</p> - -<hr class="chap" /> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_285" id="Page_285">[285]</a></span></p> - - - - -<div class="chapter"> -<h2><a name="XXIV" id="XXIV">XXIV</a><br /> -<small>DIAMOND CUT DIAMOND</small></h2> -</div> - - -<p class="cap">It was the middle of March, and fashionable New York, -having been at least twice through its winter wardrobe, -had gone southward for a change of speed. -Aiken, Jekyl Island and Palm Beach had all done their -share in the midwinter rejuvenation, but the particular -set of people with which this story concerns itself were -spending the last days of the Lenten season at the Dorsey-Martin’s -place in Virginia.</p> - -<p>Dorsey-Martin was rich beyond the dreams of Alnaschar, -but unlike the unfortunate brother of the barber, -had not smashed the glassware in his basket until he had -sold it to somebody else, when he was enabled to buy it in -again at a much reduced rate. His particular specialty -was not glassware, but railroads which, while equally -fragile, could be put together again and be made (to all -appearances) as good as new.</p> - -<p>The fruits of this fortunate talent were in evidence -in his well-appointed house in New York with its collection -of old English portraits, his palace at Newport -just finished, and in his “shooting place” in Virginia.</p> - -<p>The Dorsey-Martins had “arrived.” They had been -ten years in transit, and their ways had been devious, but -their present welcome more than compensated for the -pains and money which had been spent in the pilgrimage. -The Virginia place, “Clovelly” adjoined that of the -Ledyards, and consisted of a thousand acres of preserved -woodland and dale, within a night’s journey of New York.<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_286" id="Page_286">[286]</a></span> -Autumn, of course, was the season when “Clovelly” was -most in use, but spring frequently found it the scene of -gay gatherings such as the present one, for in addition -to the squash courts and swimming pool there was court -tennis, with a marker constantly in attendance, a good -stable, and hospitable neighbors.</p> - -<p>It was Nellie Pennington who had prevailed upon Phil -Gallatin to accept Mrs. Dorsey-Martin’s invitation, for -she knew that Jane Loring was staying at “Mobjack,” -the Ledyards’ place, and she hoped that she might yet be -the means of bringing the two together. Her interview -with Phil had been barren of results, except to confirm -her in the suspicion that Nina Jaffray held the key to the -puzzle. Nina, who had been one of the early arrivals at -“Clovelly,” had so far eluded all her snares; and Nellie -Pennington was now convinced that here was a foeman -worthy of her subtlest metal. She enjoyed the game hugely, -as, apparently, did Nina, and their passages at arms -were as skillful (and as ineffectual) as those of two perfectly -matched <i lang="fr" xml:lang="fr">maîtres d’escrime</i>. Nina knew that Nellie -Pennington suspected her of mischief, but she also knew -that it was unlikely that any one would ever know, unless -from Jane, just what that mischief had been.</p> - -<p>The arrival of Phil Gallatin, while it gave Nina happiness, -made her keep a narrower guard against the verbal -thrusts of her playful adversary.</p> - -<p>Phil Gallatin had regained his poise and reached “Clovelly” -in a jubilant frame of mind. Two days ago Henry -K. Loring had agreed to a conference.</p> - -<p>Mr. Leuppold, more suave, more benign, more patronizing -than ever, had called and told Gallatin of this noteworthy -act of condescension on the part of his client. -Nothing, of course, need be expected from such a meeting -in the way of concessions, but men of the world like Mr.<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_287" id="Page_287">[287]</a></span> -Leuppold and Mr. Gallatin knew that co-operation was, -after all, the soul of business, and that one caught many -more flies with treacle than with vinegar.</p> - -<p>He continued for half an hour in this vein, platitudinizing -and begging the question at issue while Gallatin -listened and assented politely, without giving any further -intimation of a course of action for Kenyon, Hood and -Gallatin. But when the great lawyer had departed, Gallatin -went to the window and surveyed the steel gray -waters of the Hudson with a gleaming eye, and his face -wore a smile which would not depart. Sanborn’s case -would never go to court.</p> - -<p>The vestiges of this good humor still remained upon -his face and in his demeanor all the morning, which had -been spent in a run with the Warrenton pack. It was -so long since he had ridden to hounds that he had almost -forgotten the joy of it, but he was well mounted and finished -creditably. Nina Jaffray showed the field her heels -for most of the way and Gallatin pounded after her, his -muscles aching, determined not to be outridden by a -woman.</p> - -<p>In the first check, she drew her horse alongside of his -and smiled at him.</p> - -<p>“Ready to let me announce it yet, Phil?” she asked.</p> - -<p>Gallatin just then was wondering whether his leg grip -would last out the day.</p> - -<p>“Announce what, Nina?” he asked.</p> - -<p>“Our engagement,” she returned with a smile. “It’s -almost time, you know.”</p> - -<p>“Oh, go as far as you like.”</p> - -<p>“Don’t laugh!”</p> - -<p>“I’ve got to—you make me so happy.”</p> - -<p>“Oh, you can joke if you like now, but you’ll have to -marry me some day.”</p> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_288" id="Page_288">[288]</a></span></p> - -<p>“Oh, will I? Why?”</p> - -<p>“Because you like me. Friendship subdues even Time, -Phil. I’m willing to wait.”</p> - -<p>And when he looked at her, at loss for a reply, the -hounds gave tongue again and they were off at a full -gallop. He couldn’t help admiring her this morning. -The easy unconventionality of her speech, her attitude of -good fellowship, were a part of the setting. This was the -scene in which she always appeared to the best advantage -and she took the center of the stage with an assurance -which showed how well she knew her lines.</p> - -<p>It was Nina’s brush, of course, for she had brought -down her own best hunter for the occasion and was in at -the death with the Huntsman and Master of the Hounds, -while Gallatin trailed in with the Field. And in the ride -homeward Phil found himself jogging along comfortably -at Nina’s side.</p> - -<p>“Phil,” she said again, when the others had ridden on -ahead. “I hope you won’t laugh at me any more. It’s -indecent. I never laugh at you.”</p> - -<p>“Oh, don’t you? You’re never doing anything else.”</p> - -<p>“It seems so, doesn’t it? That’s my pose, Phil. I’m -really very much in earnest about things. I don’t suppose -I ever could learn to love anybody—the faculty is lacking, -somehow; but I think you know that, even if I didn’t -love you, I’d never love any one else, whatever happened, -and I’d be true as Death.”</p> - -<p>“Yes, I know that. But——”</p> - -<p>“But—?” she repeated.</p> - -<p>“But—I’m not going to marry,” he laughed.</p> - -<p>She shrugged.</p> - -<p>“Oh, yes, you will—some day.”</p> - -<p>“Why do you think so?”</p> - -<p>“Because men of your type always do.”</p> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_289" id="Page_289">[289]</a></span></p> - -<p>“My type?”</p> - -<p>“Yes, they usually marry late and beneath them. I’m -trying to save you from that mistake.”</p> - -<p>He smiled at her saucy profile.</p> - -<p>“Marrying one’s equal doesn’t always mean equality.”</p> - -<p>“You were always a dreamer, Phil.”</p> - -<p>“I think I’ll always dream then, Nina,” he broke in -abruptly. “Don’t make the mistake of thinking that -you’ve got to marry somebody—anybody—just because -you’ve reached the marriageable age. That’s the trap -that catches most of us. Marry for love, Nina. You’ve -got that much capital to begin on. Love doesn’t die a -sudden death.”</p> - -<p>“Not unless it’s killed. That happens, you know.”</p> - -<p>“You can’t kill it easily. You may scoff at it, deny -it, wound it, but it doesn’t die, Nina.”</p> - -<p>She turned and examined him narrowly, then shifted -her bridle to the other hand and ran her crop along her -horse’s neck.</p> - -<p>“You know, Jane Loring is going to marry Coley.”</p> - -<p>“What has that to do with what we’re talking -about?” he said quickly.</p> - -<p>“Oh, nothing. Only I thought you’d like to know -it. You’ll have a chance to congratulate them to-night.”</p> - -<p>“To-night? Where?”</p> - -<p>“They’re at the Ledyards’, but they’re dining at -‘Clovelly.’”</p> - -<p>“Oh!”</p> - -<p>“So, if you’re going to put them asunder, you’d better -do it to-night or forever hold your peace.”</p> - -<p>He smiled around at her calmly.</p> - -<p>“Nothing doing, Nina. You missed it that time. -The only things I’m putting asunder are a railroad and<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_290" id="Page_290">[290]</a></span> -an omnivorous coal company. That takes about all my -energy.”</p> - -<p>“Phil,” she put in thoughtfully after a moment.</p> - -<p>“What?”</p> - -<p>“What’s the use of waiting? You’re going to marry -me in the end, you know.”</p> - -<p>“Oh, am I?”</p> - -<p>“Yes. You can’t afford to refuse. I’ve got the -money, position, and father has influence. That means -power for a man of your ability. You’re getting ambitious. -I can tell that by the way you’re sticking at -things. There’s no telling what you mightn’t accomplish -with the help I can bring you. Oh, you could get along -alone, of course. But you’d waste a lot of time. You’d -better think about it seriously.”</p> - -<p>“I have thought about it. I’m really beginning to -believe you mean it.”</p> - -<p>“Yes, I do mean it. I’ve decided to marry you. -And you know I’ve never yet failed at anything I’ve undertaken.”</p> - -<p>She was quite in earnest and he looked at her -amusedly.</p> - -<p>“Then I suppose I’d better surrender at discretion.”</p> - -<p>“Yes, I’m sure you had.”</p> - -<p>“Isn’t there a loophole?”</p> - -<p>“None, whatever. I’m your super-man, Phil. You -might just as well go at once and order your wedding -garments and the ring. It will save us endless discussions—and -you know I <em>hate</em> discussions. They’re really very -wearing. Besides, O Phil!”—She laid the end of her crop -on his arm—“just think what a lot of fun you’ll get out -of letting Jane know how little you care!”</p> - -<p>Gallatin didn’t reply and in a moment they had<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_291" id="Page_291">[291]</a></span> -reached the stables of “Clovelly” where the others were -dismounting.</p> - -<p>In his room, to which he had gone in search of his -pipe, Gallatin paused at the window, looking out over -the winter landscape, thinking. Why not? Why -shouldn’t he marry her? It would be a cold-blooded business, -of course, but he called to mind a dozen marriages -of reason that had turned out satisfactorily, and as many -marriages for love which had ended in the ditch. This -life was a pleasant kind of poison, the luxury and ease, -the careless gayety of these pleasant people who moved -along the line of least resistance, taking from life only -what suited their moods, living only for the moment, sure -that the future was amply provided for. He had turned -his back on this world for a while, and had lived in another, -a sterner world, with which this one had little in -common. A place like this might be his, with its broad -acres and stables, horses and motor cars, a life like this for -the asking. A marriage of reason! With Nina Jaffray at -the helm of his destiny and hers. God forbid!</p> - -<p>He had laid his own course now, but he had weathered -the rocks and shoals and the rough water in sight did not -dismay him. Marriage! He wanted none of it with Nina -or any other. This kind of life was not for him unless he -won it for himself, for only then would he be fit to live it. -And while he found it good to be away from his rooms in -the house in —— Street, good to be away from the office -for a while, the atmosphere of “Clovelly” was redolent -of his early days of indolence and undesire and he suddenly -found himself less tolerant of the failings of these people -than he had ever been before. He hadn’t realized what his -work had meant until he had this idleness to compare it -with.</p> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_292" id="Page_292">[292]</a></span></p> - -<p>Jane! He had been able to think less of Jane Loring -in the fever of work, but here at “Clovelly,” among the -people they both knew, where her name was frequently -mentioned, he found it less easy to forget her, and the imminence -of the hour when he must see her again gave him a -qualm.</p> - -<p>He lighted his pipe and started downstairs toward the -gunroom, where the guests were recounting the adventures -of the morning over tobacco and high-balls. Nellie Pennington, -who had an instinct for the psychological moment, -met him and led him to a lounge at the end of the -hall.</p> - -<p>“Well,” she said, “are you prepared to give a full -account of yourself?”</p> - -<p>“An empty account, dear Mother Confessor. I’m -neither sinful nor virtuous.”</p> - -<p>“I’m not so sure about that.”</p> - -<p>“About which?”</p> - -<p>“About either. You’re unpleasantly self-righteous -and criminally unamiable.”</p> - -<p>“Oh, Nellie, to whom?”</p> - -<p>“To me. Also, you’re stupid!”</p> - -<p>“Thanks. That’s my misfortune. What else?”</p> - -<p>“That’s enough to begin on. I could pull your ears -in chagrin. You’ve treated my advice with the scantest -ceremony, made ducks and drakes of the opportunities I’ve -provided, and lastly you’ve gone and gotten Nina Jaffray -talked about——”</p> - -<p>“Nellie! Please! I can’t permit——”</p> - -<p>“Oh, fudge, Phil. Nina is well able to look after herself. -It isn’t of Nina I’m thinking.”</p> - -<p>“Who then?”</p> - -<p>“You! You silly goose. There isn’t any spectacle in -the world half so ludicrous as a chivalrous man defending<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_293" id="Page_293">[293]</a></span> -the fame of a woman who doesn’t care whether she’s defended -or not.”</p> - -<p>“I don’t see——”</p> - -<p>“I know you don’t. That’s why I’m telling you.”</p> - -<p>“But Nina, does care.”</p> - -<p>“Yes, but not precisely in the way that you suppose. -Fortune gave her some excellent cards—and she played -them.”</p> - -<p>“Please be more explicit.”</p> - -<p>“Very well, then. Girls of Nina’s type would rather -have their name coupled unpleasantly with that of the -man they care for than not coupled with it at all.”</p> - -<p>“Nonsense, Nina doesn’t care——”</p> - -<p>“Oh, yes, she does. She wants to marry you. She has -told you so, hasn’t she?”</p> - -<p>Phil Gallatin looked at her quickly with eyes agog. -Such powers of divination were uncanny.</p> - -<p>“She has proposed to you once—twice—how many -times, Phil?”</p> - -<p>“None—not at all,” he stammered, while she smiled -and shrugged her incredulity.</p> - -<p>“If I didn’t know already, I need only a glance at -your face to be convinced of it.”</p> - -<p>“How did you know?”</p> - -<p>“How does a woman know anything? By virtue, my -friend, of those invisible spiritual fibers which she thrusts -in all directions and upon which she receives impressions. -That’s how she knows.”</p> - -<p>“You guessed?”</p> - -<p>“Call it that, if you like. I guessed. I guessed this, -also: that Nina wanted Jane to believe this story to be -true. It didn’t need much to convince her. That little -Nina was willing to provide.”</p> - -<p>“What?”</p> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_294" id="Page_294">[294]</a></span></p> - -<p>“Nina admitted that the story was true,” she repeated.</p> - -<p>Gallatin rose to his feet and stared at his companion -like one possessed.</p> - -<p>“Nina admitted it! You’re dreaming.”</p> - -<p>“No. I’m very wide awake. I wish you were.”</p> - -<p>“It’s preposterous. Whatever put such an idea into -your head?”</p> - -<p>“My antennæ.”</p> - -<p>“Nonsense!”</p> - -<p>“Listen. Nina called on Jane a while ago. They had -a long talk. Something happened—something that has -interrupted friendly relations. They don’t speak now. -What do you suppose that talk was about? The weather? -Or a plan for the amelioration of the condition of homeless -cats? Oh, you know a lot about women, Phil Gallatin!” -she finished scornfully.</p> - -<p>“I know enough,” he muttered.</p> - -<p>“You think you do,” she put in quickly. “The Lord -give me patience to talk to you! For unbiased ignorance, -next to the callous youth who thinks he knows it all, -commend me to the modern Galahad! The one only <em>thinks</em> -he knows, but the other doesn’t want to know. He’s content -to believe every woman irreproachable by the mere -virtue of being a woman. Nina Jaffray has played her -cards with remarkable cleverness, but she has been quite -unscrupulous. It’s time you knew it, and it’s time that -Jane did. I would tell her if I thought she would believe -me, but I fancy I’ve meddled enough.”</p> - -<p>Gallatin took two or three paces up and down and -then sat down beside her.</p> - -<p>“It isn’t meddling, Nellie,” he said quietly. “You’ve -done your best and I’m grateful to you. Unfortunately, -you can’t help me any longer. It’s too late. I did what I<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_295" id="Page_295">[295]</a></span> -could. No girl who had ever loved a man could let him -go so easily, could doubt him so willingly. It was all a -mistake. It’s better to find it out now than too late.”</p> - -<p>Nellie Pennington didn’t reply. She only looked down -at her muddy boots with the cryptic smile that women -wear when they wish to conceal either their ignorance or -their wisdom.</p> - -<p>“Did you know that Jane was dining here to-night?” -she asked.</p> - -<p>“Yes,” he replied. “Nina told me. I’m sorry.”</p> - -<p>“It doesn’t matter in the least. The world is big -enough for everybody. Jane evidently thinks so, too. -Otherwise she wouldn’t be coming.”</p> - -<p>“Does she know I’m here?”</p> - -<p>“Oh, yes, she knows that Nina is, too.”</p> - -<p>Gallatin looked out of the window.</p> - -<p>“You don’t understand women, do you, Phil? Admit -that and I’ll tell you why she’s coming.”</p> - -<p>He smiled. “I do admit it. You’re all in league with -the devil.”</p> - -<p>“She’s coming here because she wants to show you -how little she cares, because she has a morbid curiosity -to see you and Nina together, and lastly,” at this she -leaned toward him with her lips very close to his ear, -“and lastly—because she loves you more madly than -ever!”</p> - -<p>He had hardly recovered from the shock of surprise -at this announcement when he realized that Nellie Pennington -had suddenly risen and fled.</p> - -<p>This preliminary step taken, Nellie Pennington retreated -upstairs in the most amiable of moods, to dress -for luncheon. If Nina was going to play the game with -marked cards, it was quite proper that Phil be permitted -the use of the code. She had at least provided him with<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_296" id="Page_296">[296]</a></span> -food for reflection, which, while not quite pleasant to take, -would serve as nutrition for his failing optimism. And -somewhere in the back of her head a plan was being born, -unpalpable as yet and formless, but which persisted in -growing in spite of her.</p> - -<hr class="chap" /> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_297" id="Page_297">[297]</a></span></p> - - - - -<div class="chapter"> -<h2><a name="XXV" id="XXV">XXV</a><br /> -<small>DEEP WATER</small></h2> -</div> - - -<p class="cap">The afternoon was passed in leisurely fashion. The -modern way of entertaining guests is to let them -entertain themselves. They loafed, smoked, played -bottle-pool and later on there was a court tennis match -between young Dorsey-Martin and the marker, which -drew a gallery and applause. Nina Jaffray tried it next -with Bibby Worthington and though she had played but -once, got the knack of the “railroad” service and succeeded -in beating him handily, amid derisive remarks for -Bibby from the nets. A plunge in the pool followed; after -which the ladies went up for a rest before dressing for -dinner. Gallatin saw little of Nellie Pennington during -the afternoon, and though he wanted to question her to -satisfy the alarming curiosity which she had aroused, she -avoided speaking to him alone, and when he insisted on -following her about, fled to her room. She knew the effect -of her revelations upon his mind and she didn’t propose -that it should be spoiled by an anti-climax.</p> - -<p>The dinner hour arrived and with it the Ledyards and -their house-guests, Angela Wetherill, Millicent Reeves, -the Perrines, Jane Loring, Percy Endicott, Coleman Van -Duyn and some of the Warrenton folk. Dinner tables, -each with six chairs, had been laid in the dining-room and -hall, but so perfect was the machinery of the great establishment -that the influx of guests made no apparent difference -in its orderly procedure. There were good-natured<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_298" id="Page_298">[298]</a></span> -comments on Bibby Worthington’s defeat in the afternoon, -congratulations for Nina Jaffray on her dual achievement, -uncomplimentary remarks about Virginia clay, flattering -ones about Virginia hospitality and the usual discussion -about breeds of hounds and horses, back of which -was to be discovered the ancient rivalry between the Cedarcroft -and Apawomeck hunt clubs.</p> - -<p>Nellie Pennington directed the destinies of the table -at which Gallatin sat. Nina Jaffray was on his right, -Larry Kane beyond her, Coleman Van Duyn on Mrs. -Pennington’s left and Jane Loring opposite. Nothing -could possibly have been arranged which could conspire -more thoroughly to lacerate the feelings of those assembled. -Gallatin saw Jane halt when she was directed to -her seat, he heard Nina’s titter of delight beside him, -caught Larry Kane’s glare and Coley Van Duyn’s flush, -but the stab of Jane’s eyes hardened him into an immediate -gayety in which Nina was not slow to follow. Mrs. -Pennington having devised the situation, calmly sat and -proceeded to enjoy it. Good breeding, she knew, made a -fair amalgam of the most heterogeneous elements, but she -gave a short sigh when they were all seated and each -began talking rapidly to his neighbor, Jane to Larry -Kane, Nina to Phil and herself to Coley. Pangs in every -heart except her own! It was the perfection of social -cruelty, and she enjoyed it hugely, aware that two, perhaps -three, of the persons at the table might never care -to speak to her again, but stimulated by the reflection, -whether for bad or good, something must come out of her -crucible. The first shock of dismay over, it was apparent -that her dinner partners had decided to make the best -of the situation. The table was small, and general conversation -inevitable, but she chose for the present to let -matters take their course, trusting to Nina to provide<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_299" id="Page_299">[299]</a></span> -that element of uncertainty which was to make the plot -of her comedy fruitful.</p> - -<p>Indeed, Nina seemed in her element, and, when a sudden -silence fell, broke the ice with a carelessness which -showed her quite oblivious of its existence.</p> - -<p>“So nice of you, Nellie, to have us all together! I -was just saying to Phil that dinners at small tables can be -<em>such</em> a bore, if the people are not all congenial.”</p> - -<p>“Jolly, isn’t it?” laughed Nellie. “Jane, why weren’t -you hunting this morning?”</p> - -<p>“Oh, Coley didn’t want to,” she said quickly, her -rapier flashing in two directions.</p> - -<p>Nellie Pennington understood.</p> - -<p>“You <em>are</em> getting heavy, aren’t you, Coley?” she -asked sweetly. “Didn’t Honora have anything up to your -weight?”</p> - -<p>“I didn’t ask,” returned Van Duyn peevishly. “Dreadful -bore, huntin’——”</p> - -<p>“Hear the man!” exclaimed Nellie. “You’re spoiling -him, Jane.”</p> - -<p>“There’s no hope for any creature who doesn’t like -hunting,” put in Nina in disgust.</p> - -<p>“Except the fox,” said Gallatin.</p> - -<p>“And there’s not much for him when Nina rides,” -laughed Larry Kane. “Lord, Nina, but you did take -some chances to-day.”</p> - -<p>“I believe in taking chances,” put in Miss Jaffray -calmly. “The element of uncertainty is all that makes -life worth while. Nothing in the world is so deadly as -the obvious.”</p> - -<p>“You’ll be kept busy avoiding it,” sighed Nellie. “I’ve -been.”</p> - -<p>“Oh, I simply ignore it,” she returned, with a quick -gesture. “Jane won’t approve, of course; but the unusual,<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_300" id="Page_300">[300]</a></span> -the daring, the unconventional are the only things -that interest me at all.”</p> - -<p>“They interest others when you do them, Nina,” Jane -replied smiling calmly.</p> - -<p>“Of course, they do. And you ought to be grateful.”</p> - -<p>“We are. I’m sure we’d be very dull without you. -Personally I’m a bromide.”</p> - -<p>“Heaven forbid! The things that are easiest are not -worth trying for. Whether your game is fish, fowl or -beast (and that includes man), try the most difficult. The -thrill of delight when you bag your game is worth all the -pains of the effort. Isn’t it, Nellie?”</p> - -<p>“I don’t know,” the other replied, between oysters. -“I bagged Dick, but then I didn’t have to try very hard. -I suppose I would have bagged him just the same. A -woman can have any man she wants, you know.”</p> - -<p>“The trouble is,” laughed Larry Kane, “that she -doesn’t know what she wants.”</p> - -<p>“And, if she does, Larry,” said Gallatin slowly, “he’s -usually the wrong one.”</p> - -<p>Nina laughed.</p> - -<p>“His sex must be blamed for that. The right men -are all wrong and the wrong men are all right. That’s -my experience. ‘Young saint, old devil; young devil, old -saint.’ You couldn’t provide me with a better recommendation -for a good husband than a bad reputation as -a bachelor. And think of the calm delights of regeneration!”</p> - -<p>“You’ll have no difficulty in finding him, Nina,” said -Jane.</p> - -<p>“I’m afraid there’s no hope for me,” laughed Kane. -“I, for one, am too good for any use.”</p> - -<p>“Too good to be true,” sniffed Nina.</p> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_301" id="Page_301">[301]</a></span></p> - -<p>“Or too true to be interesting,” he added, below his -breath.</p> - -<p>Nellie Pennington, having led her companions into deep -water, now turned and guided them into the shoals of the -commonplace. Jane Loring’s eyes and Phil Gallatin’s had -met across the table. The act was unavoidable for they -sat directly opposite each other and, though each looked -away at once, the current established, brief as it was, was -burdened with meaning. Gallatin read a hundred things, -but love was not one of them. Jane read a hundred things -any one of which might have been love, but, as far as she -knew, was not. Gallatin caught the end of a gaze she had -given him while he was talking to Nina, and he fancied it -to be a kind of indignant curiosity, not in the slightest degree -related to the scorn of her surprise at being detected -in the midst of her inspection. Gallatin found her face -thinner, which made her eyes seem larger and the shadows -under them deeper. He had seen fresh young beauty such -as hers break and fade during one season in New York, -but it shocked him a little to find these marks so evident -in so short a time. It was as though a year, two years -even, had been crowded into the few weeks since he had -seen her last, as though she had lived at high tension, -letting nothing escape her that could add to the sum of -experience. Her eyes sparkled, and on her cheeks was a -patch of red clearly defined, like rouge, but not rouge, for -it came and went with her humor. She had grown older, -more intense, more fragile, her features more clearly -carved, more refined and—except for the hard little -shadows at the corners of her lips—more spiritual.</p> - -<p>He glanced at the heavy, bovine face of Coley Van -Duyn beside her and wondered. Coley had been drinking -freely and his face was flushed, his laugh open-mouthed -and louder than Nellie Pennington’s humor seemed to warrant.<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_302" id="Page_302">[302]</a></span> -How could she? God! How could she do it?</p> - -<p>A blind rage came upon Gallatin, a sudden wave of -intolerance and rebellion, and he clenched his fists beneath -the table. This man drank as much as he liked and when -he pleased. He was the club glutton. He ate immoderately -and drank immoderately, because he liked to do it, -and because that was his notion of comfort. Not, as had -been the case with Gallatin, because he had not been able -to live without it. Van Duyn could stop drinking when -he liked, when he had had enough, when he didn’t want -any more. He drank for the mere pleasure of drinking. -Gallatin bit his lip and stared at his untouched wine -glasses. Pleasure? With Gallatin it had been no pleasure. -It had been a medicine, a desperate remedy for a -desperate pain, a poisonous medicine which cured and -killed at the same time.</p> - -<p>“Phil!” Nina’s voice sounded suddenly at his ear. -“Are you ill?”</p> - -<p>“Not in the least.”</p> - -<p>“You haven’t listened to a word I’ve been saying, and -it was so interesting.”</p> - -<p>He laughed.</p> - -<p>“What were you thinking of?”</p> - -<p>“My sins.”</p> - -<p>“Then I don’t wonder that you looked so badly.”</p> - -<p>But it was clear that she understood him, for after a -short silence she spoke of other things.</p> - -<p>The dinner having progressed to the salad course, -visiting was in order, and the guests sauntered from table -to table, exchanging chairs and partners. Jane Loring -was one of the first to take advantage of this opportunity -to escape, and found a seat at Honora Ledyard’s table -between Bibby Worthington and Percy Endicott.</p> - -<p>Nellie Pennington watched her departure calmly, for<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_303" id="Page_303">[303]</a></span> -she had learned what she had set out to learn. All women, -no matter how youthful, are clever at dissimulation, but -the art being common to all women, deceives none. And -Jane, skillful though she had been in hiding her thoughts -from Gallatin, deceived neither Nellie Pennington nor -Nina Jaffray.</p> - -<p>Dinner over, Nellie Pennington followed the crowd to -the gunroom. The married set were already at their -auction and somebody beckoned to her to make a four, -but she refused. On this night she had a mission. She -wandered from group to group, keeping one eye on Jane -and the other on Phil, until the music began, when with -one accord, all but the most devoted of the bridge-players -returned to the hall, from which the furniture had been -cleared, and where the polished wax surface shone invitingly. -Mrs. Pennington waited until the waltz was well -under way and saw Jane Loring circling the room safely -with Larry Kane, when she went into the library alone. -Her thought had crystallized into a definite plan.</p> - -<p>It was at the end of the third dance when Jane, on the -arm of Percy Endicott was on her way to the terrace for -a breath of air, that Bibby Worthington slipped a note -into her fingers. She excused herself and took it to the -nearest electric bulb. She knew the handwriting at once. -It was in Nina Jaffray’s picturesque scrawl.</p> - -<div class="blockquot"> -<p>“Jane, dear,” it ran. “I <em>must</em> see you for a moment -about something which concerns you intimately. Meet me -at twelve by the fountain in the loggia of the tennis court.</p> - -<p class="right smcap">“Nina.”</p> -</div> - -<p>Jane turned the note over and re-read it; then with -quick scorn, tore it into tiny pieces and scattered them -into the bushes. The impudence of her! She had given -Nina credit for better taste. What right had she to<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_304" id="Page_304">[304]</a></span> -intrude again in Jane’s private affairs when she must -know how little her offices were appreciated? And yet, -what was this she had to say? Something that concerned -Jane intimately? What could that be unless——</p> - -<p>Coleman Van Duyn appeared and claimed the next -dance, which he begged that she would sit out. Jane -agreed because it would give her a chance to think. There -was little real exertion required in talking to Coley.</p> - -<p>What could Nina want to tell her? And where—did -she say? In the loggia of the tennis court—at twelve. It -must be almost that now.</p> - -<p>At five minutes of twelve Nellie Pennington handed -Gallatin a note.</p> - -<p>“From Nina,” she whispered. “It’s really outrageous, -Phil, the way you’re flirting with that trusting -child. I’m sure you ought to be ashamed of yourself.”</p> - -<p>The tennis court was at the far end of the long house. -It was reached by passing first a succession of rooms -which made up the main building, into the conservatory, -by the swimming-pool and loggia. The loggia was a red-tiled -portico, enclosed in glass during the winter, in the -center of which was a fountain surrounded by a circular -marble bench, all filched from an old Etruscan villa. To-night -it was unlighted except by the glow from the bronze -Japanese lamps in the conservatory; an ideal spot for a -tryst, so far removed from the main body of the house -and so cool in winter that it was seldom used except as a -promenade or as a haven by those purposely belated. Gallatin, -the scrap of paper in his fingers, strolled through -the deserted halls, smoking thoughtfully. Nina Jaffray -was beginning to grate just a little on his nerves. He -had no idea what she wanted of him and he didn’t much -care.</p> - -<p>He only knew that it was almost time for him to make<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_305" id="Page_305">[305]</a></span> -his meaning clear to her in terms which might not be misunderstood. -As he entered the obscurity of the loggia, he -saw the head and shoulders of a figure in white above the -back of the stone bench.</p> - -<p>“You wanted to see me?” he said.</p> - -<p>At the sound of his voice, the figure rose, stood poised -breathless, and he saw that it was not Nina.</p> - -<p>“I?” Jane’s voice answered.</p> - -<p>He stopped and the cigarette slipped from his fingers.</p> - -<p>“I—I beg pardon. I was told that——”</p> - -<p>“That <em>I</em> wanted to see you?” she broke in scornfully.</p> - -<p>“No. Not you—” he replied, still puzzled.</p> - -<p>“There has been a mistake, Mr. Gallatin. I do not -want to see you. If you’ll excuse me——”</p> - -<p>She made a movement to go, but Gallatin stood in the -aperture, the only avenue of escape, and did not move. -His hands were at his sides, his head bent forward, his -eyes gazing into the pool.</p> - -<p>“Wait—” he muttered, as though to himself. “Don’t -go yet. I’ve something to say—just a word—it will not -take a moment. Will you listen?”</p> - -<p>“I suppose I—I must,” she stammered.</p> - -<p>“I hear—” he began painfully, “that it’s true that -you’re going to marry Mr. Van Duyn.”</p> - -<p>“And what if it is?” she flashed at him.</p> - -<p>“Nothing—except that I hope you’ll be happy. I -wish you——”</p> - -<p>“Thanks,” dryly. “When I’m ready for the good -wishes—of—of anybody, I’ll ask for them. At present—will -you let me pass, please?”</p> - -<p>“Yes—in a moment. I thought perhaps you might -be willing to tell me whether it’s true, the report of your -engagement?”</p> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_306" id="Page_306">[306]</a></span></p> - -<p>“I can’t see how that can be any interest of yours.”</p> - -<p>“Only the interest of one you once cared for and -who——”</p> - -<p>“Mr. Gallatin, I forbid it,” she said hurriedly. -“Would you be so unmanly as to take advantage of your -position here? Isn’t it enough that I no longer care to -know you, that I prefer to choose my own friends?”</p> - -<p>“Will you answer my question?” he repeated doggedly.</p> - -<p>“No. You have no right to question me.”</p> - -<p>“I’m assuming the right. Your memory of the -past——”</p> - -<p>“There is no past. It was the dream of a silly child -in another world where men were honest and women clean. -I’ve grown older, Mr. Gallatin.”</p> - -<p>“Yes, but not in mercy, not in compassion, not in -charity.”</p> - -<p>“Speak of virtue before you speak of mercy, of pride -before compassion, of decency before charity—if you -can,” she added contemptuously.</p> - -<p>“You’re cruel,” he muttered, “horribly so.”</p> - -<p>“I’m wiser than I was. The world has done me that -service. And if cruelty is the price of wisdom, I’ll pay -it. Baseness, meanness, improbity in business or in morals -no longer surprise me. They’re woven into the tissue of -life. I can abominate the conditions that cause them, -but they are the world. And, until I choose to live alone, -I must accept them even if I despise the men and women -who practice them, Mr. Gallatin.”</p> - -<p>“And you call this wisdom? This disbelief in everything—in -everybody, this threadbare creed of the jaded -women of the world?”</p> - -<p>“Call it what you like. Neither your opinions nor -your principles (or the lack of them) mean anything to<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_307" id="Page_307">[307]</a></span> -me. If I had known you were here I should not have come -to-night. I pray that we may never meet again.”</p> - -<p>He stood silent a long moment, searching her face with -his eyes. She was so cold, so white and wraithlike, and her -voice was so strange, so impersonal, that he was almost -ready to believe that she was some one else. It was the -voice of a woman without a soul—a calm, ruthless voice -which sought to wound, to injure or destroy. It had -been on his lips to speak of the past, to translate into the -words the pain at his heart. He had been ready to take -one step forward, to seize her in his arms and compel her -by the might of his tenderness to return the love that he -bore her. If he had done so then, perhaps fortune would -have favored him—have favored them both; for in the -hour of their greatest intolerance women are sometimes -most vulnerable. But he could not. Her words chilled -him to insensibility, scourged his pride and made him dumb -and unyielding.</p> - -<p>“If that is your wish,” he said quietly, “I will do my -best to respect it. I’d like you to remember one thing, -though, and that is that this meeting was not of my seeking. -If I’ve detained you, it was with the hope that perhaps -you might be willing to listen to the truth, to learn -what a dreadful mistake you have made, of the horrible -wrong you have done——”</p> - -<p>“To you?”</p> - -<p>“No,” sternly. “To Nina Jaffray. Think what you -like of me,” he went on with sudden passion. “It doesn’t -matter. You can’t make a new pain sharper than the -old one. But you’ve got to do justice to her.”</p> - -<p>“What is the use, Mr. Gallatin?”</p> - -<p>“It’s a lie that they’ve told, a cruel lie, as you’ll learn -some day when it will be too late to repair the wrong -you’ve done.”</p> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_308" id="Page_308">[308]</a></span></p> - -<p>“I don’t believe that it was a lie, Mr. Gallatin. A lie -will not persist against odds. This does. You’ve done -your duty. Now please let me go.”</p> - -<p>“Not yet. You needn’t be afraid of me.”</p> - -<p>“Let me pass.”</p> - -<p>“In a moment—when you listen. You must. Nina -Jaffray is blameless. She would not deny such a story. -It would demean her to deny it as it demeans me.”</p> - -<p>“It does demean you,” she broke in pitilessly, “as -other things have demeaned you. Shame, Mr. Gallatin! -Do you think I could believe the word of a man who seeks -revenge for a woman’s indifference? Who finding her invulnerable -goes to the ends of his resources to attack -the members of her family? Trying by methods known -only to himself and those of his kind to hinder the success -of those more diligent than himself, to smirch the good -name of an honest man, to obtain money——”</p> - -<p>“Stop,” cried Gallatin hoarsely, and in spite of herself -she obeyed. For he was leaning forward toward her, -the long fingers of one hand trembling before him.</p> - -<p>“You’ve gone almost too far, Miss Loring,” he whispered. -“You are talking about things of which you know -nothing. I will not speak of that, nor shall you, for whatever -our relations have been or are now, nothing in them -justifies that insult. Time will prove the right or the -wrong of the matter between Henry K. Loring and me as -time will prove the right and the wrong to his daughter. -I ask nothing of her now, nor ever shall, not even a -thought. The girl I am thinking of was gentle, kind, sincere. -She looked with the eyes of compassion, the far-seeing -gaze of innocence unclouded by bitterness or doubt. -I gave her all that was best in me, all that was honest, -all that was true, and in return she gave me courage, purpose, -resolution. I loved her for herself, because she <em>was</em><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_309" id="Page_309">[309]</a></span> -herself, but more for the things she represented—purity, -nobility, strength which I drew from her like an inspiration. -It was to her that I owed the will to conquer myself, -the purpose to win back my self-respect. I thanked -God for her then and I’m thankful now, but I’m more -thankful that I’m no longer dependent on her.”</p> - -<p>Jane had sunk on the bench again, her head bent and -a sound came from her lips. But he did not hear it.</p> - -<p>“I do not need her now,” he went on quietly. “What -she was is only a memory; what she is, only a regret. I -shall live without her. I shall live without any woman, -for no woman could ever be to me what that memory is. -I love it passionately, reverently, madly, tenderly, and will -be true to it, as I have always been. And, if ever the -moment comes when the woman that girl has grown to -be looks into the past, let her remember that love knows -not doubt or bitterness, that it lives upon itself, is sufficient -unto itself and that, whatever happens, is faithful until -death.”</p> - -<p>He stopped and stepped aside.</p> - -<p>“I have finished, Miss Loring. Now go!”</p> - -<p>The peremptory note startled her and she straightened -and slowly rose. His head was bowed but his finger -pointed toward the door of the conservatory. As she -passed him she hesitated as though about to speak, and -then slowly raising her head walked past him and disappeared.</p> - -<hr class="chap" /> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_310" id="Page_310">[310]</a></span></p> - - - - -<div class="chapter"> -<h2><a name="XXVI" id="XXVI">XXVI</a><br /> -<small>BIG BUSINESS</small></h2> -</div> - - -<p class="cap">Tooker fidgeted uneasily with the papers on the -junior partner’s desk, moving to the safe in the -main office and back again, bringing bundles of -documents which he disposed in an orderly row where Mr. -Gallatin could put his hands on them. Eleven o’clock -was the hour set for the conference between Henry K. -Loring and Philip Gallatin. Mr. Leuppold had written -last week that Mr. Loring had agreed to a conference -and asked Mr. Gallatin to come to his, Mr. Leuppold’s, -private office at a given time. Gallatin had agreed to -the day and hour named, but politely insisted that Mr. -Leuppold and Mr. Loring come to <em>his</em> office. It would -have made no difference in the result, of course, but Gallatin -had reasons of his own.</p> - -<p>At ten o’clock Philip Gallatin came in and read his -mail. He had returned yesterday from his southern -visit, and in the afternoon had gone over, with Mr. Kenyon -and Mr. Hood, the details of the case. The matter had -been discussed freely, but it was clear to Tooker, who -had been present, that the other partners had been able -to add nothing but their approval to the work which -Gallatin had done.</p> - -<p>His mail finished, Gallatin took up the other papers -on his desk and scrutinized them carefully, after which -he glanced at his watch and pressed the button for the -chief clerk.</p> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_311" id="Page_311">[311]</a></span></p> - -<p>“There has been no message from Mr. Leuppold, -Tooker?” he asked.</p> - -<p>“Nothing.”</p> - -<p>Gallatin smiled. “That’s good. I was figuring on -a slight chance that they might want more time, and ask -a postponement.”</p> - -<p>“I had thought of that.”</p> - -<p>“It wouldn’t help them. I guess they’ve found that -out.”</p> - -<p>“I hope so. But I shouldn’t take any chances.”</p> - -<p>“No, I won’t,” he returned grimly. And then, “Mr. -Markham is here, isn’t he?”</p> - -<p>“Yes. He came early. I’ve shown him into Mr. -Kenyon’s office as you directed.”</p> - -<p>“Very good, Tooker. And I will want you, so please -don’t go out.”</p> - -<p>“I’m not going out this morning, Mr. Gallatin,” said -Tooker, with a grin.</p> - -<p>After the chief clerk had disappeared Gallatin walked -to the window where he stood for a long while with his -hands behind his back, looking out toward the Jersey -shore. His thoughts were not pleasant ones. The words -of Jane’s recrimination were still ringing in his ears. It -was Henry Loring, of course, who had put all that into -her head, but he blamed her for the readiness with which -she had been willing to condemn him from the first, the -facility with which she had been able to turn from him to -another.</p> - -<p>His idyl had passed.</p> - -<p>He turned into the room, brows lowering and jaws set, -and went to his desk again. There, at a few moments -past eleven, Tooker brought in word that Mr. Leuppold -and Mr. Loring were waiting to see him.</p> - -<p>“Tell them to wait in the outer office, Tooker,” he<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_312" id="Page_312">[312]</a></span> -said with a gleam in his eye, “that I will be at liberty in a -few moments. I’ll ring for you.”</p> - -<p>When Tooker had gone, Gallatin sat down again, -glanced at his watch, then took up the morning paper, -which he had not yet opened, and read, smiling. It -amused him to think of Henry K. Loring sitting in the -outer office, wasting time worth a hundred dollars a minute. -It amused him so much that he dropped the paper, -put his feet up on his desk, and lit a cigarette, to enjoy -the situation more thoroughly. Leuppold, too, his suavity -slowly yielding to his impatience, would be twisting his -watch-fob by now or tapping his fat fingers on his legs, -while he waited, his ease of mind little improved by the -delay.</p> - -<p>Gallatin’s smile diminished with his cigarette, and at -last he looked at his watch and put his feet on the floor -and rang for the chief clerk.</p> - -<p>“You may show those gentlemen in, Tooker,” he said -quietly.</p> - -<p>Tooker glanced at the ashes of the cigarette, picked -up the newspaper and put it on a chair in the corner, -then laid one or two documents obtrusively open, on Mr. -Gallatin’s desk. Phil watched him with a smile. Tooker -was a thoughtful and cautious soul.</p> - -<p>But he was reading the nearest document intently -when Loring and Leuppold entered. He turned in his -chair—rose and bowed.</p> - -<p>“You’ve met Mr. Loring, Mr. Gallatin?” said Leuppold.</p> - -<p>Loring dropped his chin abruptly the fraction of an -inch, peering keenly about, his lips drawn in a thin and -unpleasant smile. Phil Gallatin indicated a chair at one -end of the table, into which Loring stiffly sat, with one -arm on the table, his bull-neck thrust forward, peering<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_313" id="Page_313">[313]</a></span> -steadily at the younger man, watching every movement, -studying his face as though trying by the intentness of -his gaze to solve the question as to whether this curiously -inconsistent young man was a menace or merely a nuisance.</p> - -<p>Gallatin laid some papers upon the table, took some -others from Tooker and moved his desk chair to the table. -If he felt Loring’s scrutiny, his calm demeanor gave no -sign of it, for after a few commonplaces he began addressing -his remarks directly to Mr. Leuppold’s client.</p> - -<p>“I don’t propose to take up a great deal of your -time, gentlemen,” he began, “and I think I can state -my position in a very few moments.” He took out his -watch and looked at it. “About twenty minutes, I think. -The facts, as you both know, are these: John Sanborn, -representing the minority stockholders of the Sanborn -Mining Company, filed an injunction against the President -and Board of Directors of the Sanborn Mining Company -to prevent the sale of its properties and interests to the -Pequot Coal Company. This injunction was lost in the -Supreme Court and was appealed to the Appellate Court, -when the case came into my hands. That appeal is pending. -That is a correct statement, is it not?”</p> - -<p>“It is,” said Leuppold blandly, while Loring nodded -his head.</p> - -<p>“The sale has, therefore, not been consummated and -cannot be consummated until the higher court has affirmed -the decision of the lower one or reversed it.”</p> - -<p>“That is also true, Mr. Gallatin,” said Leuppold. -“Proceed, sir.”</p> - -<p>Gallatin hesitated, his brows drew together and his -voice took a deeper note.</p> - -<p>“This case, Mr. Leuppold, is one which involves not -only large issues but large principles. The Sanborn Mining<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_314" id="Page_314">[314]</a></span> -Company owns the most valuable coal properties, with -the possible exception of those owned by the Pequot Coal -Company, in the State of Pennsylvania, and until 1909 was -doing an enormous business with the trade centers of the -East, working at full capacity and employing an army of -men in getting its coal to market. Its only rival in production -was the Pequot Coal Company, of which Mr. Loring, -as he has admitted, controls the majority of the -stock.</p> - -<p>“In the summer of 1909, conditions changed. The -Lehigh and Pottsville Railroad Company found it impossible -to furnish cars to the Sanborn mines. I have copies -of the correspondence, relating to the matter: repeated -letters of request on the part of the Sanborn Company and -excuses on the part of the railroad company, as well as -frequent promises which were never fulfilled.”</p> - -<p>“What has that to do with the pending suit?” asked -Leuppold carelessly, with an effective shrug of his -shoulder.</p> - -<p>“I’m coming to that, Mr. Leuppold. And I ask for -your patience,” said Gallatin. “This failure of the railroad -company to provide facilities for the shipment of -the coal of the Sanborn Mines,” he continued, “is all the -more remarkable when it is known that while this very -correspondence was going on, its sidings between Phillipsville -and Williamstown were full of empty cars, and when -it is also known that the Pequot Coal Company was working -on full time and shipping to New York City, alone, -one hundred and fifty cars of coal a day.”</p> - -<p>“We had contracts with the railroad,” snapped Loring. -“We forced them to provide for us.”</p> - -<p>“So had the Sanborn Company contracts, Mr. Loring,” -said Gallatin.</p> - -<p>“Really!” sneered Loring.</p> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_315" id="Page_315">[315]</a></span></p> - -<p>Tooker quickly abstracted a paper from a sheaf and -handed it to Gallatin.</p> - -<p>“Read for yourself.”</p> - -<p>The sneer on Loring’s lips faded, and his eyes opened -wider as he read. It was not a copy, but the contract -itself.</p> - -<p>“I have also a volume of evidence about the empty -cars which verifies my statement. Would you care to look -over it?”</p> - -<p>“No. Go on,” growled Loring.</p> - -<p>“Gentlemen,” Gallatin went on, enunciating his words -with great distinctness. “This was discrimination—of a -kind which at this time is not popular with the Government -of the United States.”</p> - -<p>“But if you’ll permit me, Mr. Gallatin,” Leuppold’s -suave voice broke in, “what has this to do with the Sanborn -injunction suit? And how can my client be held in -any way responsible for the action of the Lehigh and -Pottsville Railroad Company for its failure to fulfill its -contracts to the Sanborn Company?”</p> - -<p>Gallatin raised a protesting hand.</p> - -<p>“I’m coming to that, Mr. Leuppold. In a moment, sir. -The conditions I have already mentioned have forced the -Sanborn Company practically to shut down. Coal is being -mined and a few cars a day are shipped, but, as you gentlemen -are well aware, dividends have been passed for two -years and the value of the stock has depreciated. This -much for the conditions which have caused that depreciation. -The Pequot Coal Company, taking advantage of the -low market value of the shares, has made an offer for the -property—an offer, gentlemen, which as you both know, -represents not one-twentieth of the Sanborn Company’s -holdings.”</p> - -<p>“I can’t agree with that,” put in Leuppold quickly.<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_316" id="Page_316">[316]</a></span> -“It was a fair offer, accepted by the Board of Directors -of the Sanborn Company, Mr. Sanborn alone dissenting.”</p> - -<p>Gallatin arose and picked up a package wrapped in -rubber bands.</p> - -<p>“I’m ready to talk about that Board of Directors -now, Mr. Leuppold,” he said quietly, with his eyes on -Loring’s face, “and I’m also ready to talk about the -Board of Directors of the Lehigh and Pottsville Railroad -Company.”</p> - -<p>Henry K. Loring’s expression was immovable, but Mr. -Leuppold’s fingers were already at his watch-fob.</p> - -<p>“I’m going to lay my hand on the table, gentlemen,” -Gallatin went on with a quiet laugh. “I’m going to show -you all my cards and let them play themselves. I’m going -to prove to you so clearly that you can’t doubt the accuracy -of my information or the character of my evidence -that I am aware that Henry K. Loring has at the present -time not only the control of the stock of the Sanborn -Mining Company, but that he also controls a voting -majority of the stock of the Lehigh and Pottsville Railroad -Company.”</p> - -<p>Leuppold laughed outright.</p> - -<p>“Absurd, sir. Your statement is flattering to my -client, but I beg that you will confine your remarks to -the bounds of reason.”</p> - -<p>“I will to the bounds of reason, to the bounds of fact. -It’s no laughing matter, Mr. Leuppold, as you’ll discover -presently. I will not speak of Mr. Loring’s connection -with the railroad for a moment. Perhaps, since this conference -has been called with especial reference to the injunction -suit, the proof of Mr. Loring’s majority -stock ownership in the Sanborn Company will be sufficient.”</p> - -<p>“You can’t prove it without manufactured evidence.”</p> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_317" id="Page_317">[317]</a></span></p> - -<p>Gallatin flushed. “Call it what you like, it’s here—in -my possession. The majority stock of the Sanborn Mining -Company is now owned by Henry K. Loring, and has -been voted under cover for the benefit of the Pequot Coal -Company.”</p> - -<p>“That’s a grave charge, Mr. Gallatin.”</p> - -<p>“So grave that I thought it fairer to Mr. Loring to -have him learn what I know, before bringing the matter -into court.”</p> - -<p>“You have proved nothing yet.”</p> - -<p>Gallatin opened some papers and laid them on the -table.</p> - -<p>“I have here an affidavit of a former employee of Mr. -Loring which I propose to offer in evidence.”</p> - -<p>“Who?” growled Loring.</p> - -<p>“One moment, please. I have also an abstract from -the books of the company with entries showing the purchase -of stock, the amounts, the price and the dates of -payment.”</p> - -<p>Leuppold leaned forward in his chair.</p> - -<p>“<em>Even you</em> must know, Mr. Gallatin, that that’s not -evidence.”</p> - -<p>“I’m well aware of that, but when the time comes, Mr. -Leuppold, I intend to call for the production of the -original books.”</p> - -<p>Leuppold raised a protesting hand and then said -craftily:</p> - -<p>“Those books are lost, Mr. Gallatin.”</p> - -<p>Gallatin only smiled at him.</p> - -<p>“Thanks for that information, Mr. Leuppold. For -that being the case, <em>even you</em> will admit that my copy -is admissible in secondary evidence.”</p> - -<p>Loring’s quick glance caught Leuppold’s. The point -was well taken. Leuppold covered his confusion with a<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_318" id="Page_318">[318]</a></span> -magnificent gesture and a resumption of his blandest -manner.</p> - -<p>“How are you going to prove that these are copies -from the books?” he asked easily.</p> - -<p>“I will produce that evidence at the proper time.”</p> - -<p>“Produce it now——”</p> - -<p>“I will, if necessary.”</p> - -<p>“That is the weakness of your case, Mr. Gallatin; -you can’t produce it,” he sneered.</p> - -<p>Gallatin turned to the chief clerk and said: “The -checks, Tooker.”</p> - -<p>Gallatin removed some slips of paper from the envelope -Tooker handed him, and held them carelessly in his -fingers, so that the two men, who were eying them eagerly, -could see the name of the bank and the signature at -the lower right hand corner.</p> - -<p>“Perhaps Mr. Loring will deny his own signature?” -he asked quietly. “These checks I hold are signed with -Mr. Loring’s name, a signature with which we are all -familiar, and were given to Mr. Loring’s brokers for the -purchase of Sanborn stock. I may add that the date -of entry on the books of the company in each case corresponds -with the date on the checks, as does the amount.”</p> - -<p>He stepped to Loring’s side and held several of the -checks up just beyond his reach.</p> - -<p>“That’s not my signature,” said Loring.</p> - -<p>Gallatin handed the checks to Tooker.</p> - -<p>“You’re not convinced?”</p> - -<p>“No. It’s a forgery.”</p> - -<p>“Then I’ll find other means of convincing you. Perhaps, -if I produced a man who saw you sign those -checks——”</p> - -<p>Loring had risen to his feet and spoke but one word. -It was the popular one for the infernal regions.</p> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_319" id="Page_319">[319]</a></span></p> - -<p>Gallatin smiled. And then to the chief clerk, “Tooker, -show Mr. Markham in, please.”</p> - -<p>The situation had gotten beyond the control of Mr. -Leuppold, who was completely nonplused by Mr. Gallatin’s -rapidity, succinctness and damnable accuracy; but -he made one desperate effort to regain his lost ground.</p> - -<p>“Markham, a broken man, a drunkard, a gambler——”</p> - -<p>“But once Mr. Loring’s secretary,” Gallatin broke -in significantly. “Wait, Mr. Leuppold.”</p> - -<p>In a moment Mr. Markham entered. He was a tall -man, with keen eyes, hawklike nose and a weak mouth. -As he entered Loring turned toward the door and the eyes -of the two men met, Loring’s curious, the newcomer’s -eager and unflinching.</p> - -<p>“Mr. Markham,” asked Gallatin, “do you know this -gentleman?”</p> - -<p>“Yes. He is Henry K. Loring.”</p> - -<p>“Have you ever seen these checks?”</p> - -<p>“Yes. I drew them and saw Mr. Loring sign them.”</p> - -<p>“And this affidavit?”</p> - -<p>“I wrote it.”</p> - -<p>“And this abstract of the books of the Sanborn Company?”</p> - -<p>“I have seen it.”</p> - -<p>“Is it correct?”</p> - -<p>“In every particular.”</p> - -<p>“All right. That will be all for the present. Will -you remain outside?”</p> - -<p>“Wait, sir!” Leuppold’s voice rang out. “I haven’t -finished with Mr. Markham yet.”</p> - -<p>“You’ll have the opportunity of questioning him at -the proper time and place,” said Gallatin smoothly. -“That will be all, Mr. Markham.”</p> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_320" id="Page_320">[320]</a></span></p> - -<p>“I protest, Mr. Gallatin, against your methods of -conducting this meeting,” said Leuppold, rising and extending -a quavery arm. “You bring as your chief evidence -a man once in the employ of my client, a discredited -clerk, a man discharged for drunkenness, for incompetence, -for dishonesty.”</p> - -<p>“No—for <em>honesty</em>, Mr. Leuppold,” Gallatin broke in -hotly. “That was why he was discharged. He was too -honest to understand the ethics of big business and his -utility was at an end. So Mr. Loring let him go. That -was a mistake. He knew too much, Mr. Leuppold.”</p> - -<p>“You’ll have a chance to prove what he knows, sir. -There won’t be much difficulty in discrediting his testimony——”</p> - -<p>“You’re making a mistake, Mr. Leuppold,” broke in -Gallatin, his voice now thundering. “The question here -isn’t so much one of law as it is one of morals. That -injunction may be dissolved by the Court of Appeals; -but I give you my word that, if you insist on carrying -through that sale of the Sanborn Mines to the Pequot Coal -Company, I propose to charge your client and the directors -of the Sanborn Company with <em>conspiracy</em>, and -I’ll convict them—just as sure as the Lord made little -apples!”</p> - -<p>He dominated the situation and felt it in the short -hush that followed his concluding remarks, and in the -rapid revolution of Leuppold’s watch charm. Loring had -sunk back in his chair, both of his great hands clasping -its arms, his gaze on Gallatin’s face, critical but smiling. -What he saw there evidently brought a realization that -Mr. Gallatin held the whip hand; for as Leuppold began -speaking again, he moved one of his hands through the -air and rose.</p> - -<p>“Wait!” he said. He took two or three paces across -the room, between window and door and then stood, his<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_321" id="Page_321">[321]</a></span> -hands in his trousers pockets, fumbling at his keys. It -was at least five minutes before he spoke again. But -at last he stopped in front of Gallatin and looked at -him from head to toe, and suddenly to every one’s surprise, -broke out into a loud laugh.</p> - -<p>“Mr. Gallatin, you’ve beaten me.”</p> - -<p>Success had come so quickly and the end of the case -so suddenly that Gallatin looked at his adversary, not -certain whether to believe his own ears, and half suspecting -some kind of a ruse or trick, the art of which Henry K. -Loring, as he knew, was past grand master, when he went -on again.</p> - -<p>“I don’t propose to ask you how you found Mr. -Markham out in Illinois, or to try and learn what your -methods were in getting together all this evidence. I -know it’s there and that’s enough. I did write those -checks and the abstracts from the books are doubtless -correct. I suppose,” he laughed again, “your evidence -of my connection with the Lehigh and Pottsville is quite -tangible?”</p> - -<p>“Quite tangible,” repeated Gallatin, scarcely concealing -a smile.</p> - -<p>“Then all I have to say, sir, is that you are a very -extraordinary young man, a very useful young man to -your clients, a very disappointing one to your adversaries.” -And then turning to Leuppold: “<em>You</em> may contest, -if you like, Mr. Leuppold. <em>I won’t.</em> This case is -one for settlement.”</p> - -<p>Then he turned to Gallatin again, and offered his -huge hand, while the younger man, still doubtful, eyed -him keenly.</p> - -<p>“You and I had words some time ago. I’m sorry for -them. Will you forgive me?”</p> - -<p>There was no doubt about the genuineness of his contrition.</p> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_322" id="Page_322">[322]</a></span></p> - -<p>“Willingly, Mr. Loring,” he said.</p> - -<p>Their fingers clasped and their eyes met.</p> - -<p>“I underestimated you, Mr. Gallatin,” he went on -again slowly. “I don’t often make a mistake in my -judgment of men, but I did of you. I’m a self-made -man and people will tell you I’m a little proud of the -job. But I’m not too proud to tell you that you’ve been -a little too clever for me. I know when I’m beaten and -I’m not afraid to say so. We’ll fix this thing up. I don’t -want all the coal in Pennsylvania. I own sixty per cent. -of the Sanborn stock. Sanborn’s crowd owns the rest. -I’ll sell out twenty per cent. to some man agreed on and -we’ll make him president.”</p> - -<p>“At the present market figure, Mr. Loring?” asked -Gallatin shrewdly.</p> - -<p>Loring rubbed his head and smiled.</p> - -<p>“We’ll see about that,” he muttered at last. But -there was a twinkle in his eyes as he asked. “How would -you like that job, Mr. Gallatin?”</p> - -<p>Gallatin grinned.</p> - -<p>“I’d take it, if I could get enough cars to make it -profitable.”</p> - -<p>“I reckon you can make it profitable enough, for -everybody,” he growled jovially. “We’ve got to have -you in with us, and that’s all there is about it. Will you -accept?”</p> - -<p>“With Sanborn’s consent, yes.”</p> - -<p>“We’ll fix Sanborn, all right,” he finished. “Come -to my office some time, Mr. Gallatin, I want to talk to -you.”</p> - -<p>Gallatin followed the two men to the elevator, while -Tooker, after the door was closed, moved from one leg -to the other in what he fondly believed to be a dance of -joy.</p> - -<hr class="chap" /> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_323" id="Page_323">[323]</a></span></p> - - - - -<div class="chapter"> -<h2><a name="XXVII" id="XXVII">XXVII</a><br /> -<small>MR. LORING REFLECTS</small></h2> -</div> - - -<p class="cap">Henry K. Loring sat back in his machine, -homeward bound, his head deep in the collar of his -overcoat, his eyes under their shaggy brows peering -out of the windows of the limousine. His heavy hands, -one over the other, grasped the handle of his cane, which -stood upright between his firmly planted feet. He looked -out of the windows at the quickly changing scene, but his -eyes saw nothing. There was a frown at his brow, his -lips were drawn firmly together and a casual glance might -have lent to the belief that the great operator was -weighted with a more than usually heavy financial burden. -But a closer inspection would have shown a slight -upward twist of his lips and scarcely perceptible puckering -of the wrinkles at the corners of his eyes. For a man -whose business affairs had on that day been subjected -to the searching inquisition that Mr. Gallatin had put -them to, he seemed to be taking life rather good-naturedly.</p> - -<p>To tell the truth he was thinking of the futile efforts -of the elder Leuppold in trying to stem the tide which -had set so strongly against him. He had gone over Mr. -Gallatin’s evidence at the conference point by point, and -the hours had only confirmed him in the realization that -this young man, whom he had scorned, had given the oily -and ingenious Leuppold a very unpleasant morning; for -wriggle as Leuppold might, there had been no escaping -the young man’s clear-headed statements, and the dangerous<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_324" id="Page_324">[324]</a></span> -nature of his evidence. Henry K. Loring was a -good fighter, a shrewd judge of men, and the thing that -most bothered him at the present moment was, not that -he had been obliged to compromise the Sanborn case, -but that he should have been so mistaken in the character -and abilities of Philip Gallatin. He couldn’t understand -it at all, and it hurt his pride in his own judgment. Was -this sharp young man with the lean face, the keen eye -and the quick incisive tones of confidence in himself, was -this brilliant hard-working young lawyer who had been -clever enough to outwit Henry Loring at his own game, -was <em>this</em> Phil Gallatin, the club loafer, at whose name -men had wagged their heads or shrugged their shoulders -in pity or contempt? It didn’t seem possible. There -was a mistake somewhere. Was this the young man -who——?</p> - -<p>He sat straight up suddenly as the thought came to -him. By George! This was Jane’s young man! The -fellow who had found Jane up in the woods! Who had -followed her around and made love to her! The fellow -Jane had been in love with until he, Loring, had opened -her eyes and packed him out of the house about his -business. That was too bad. Loring was sorry about -that now. He had done Gallatin an injustice. Curious -that he should have made such a mistake. He would -have to rectify it somehow—with Jane.</p> - -<p>What was the trouble? Oh, yes, a woman—that was -what had turned Jane against him. A woman—well? It -wasn’t the first time a man had been led off by a woman. -What of it? The Gallatin with whom he had recently -become acquainted wasn’t the kind of a fellow who would -let any woman get the best of him. That was his own -affair, anyway. He, Loring, would have to talk to Jane. -Gallatin was all right. He had quit drinking, too, the<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_325" id="Page_325">[325]</a></span> -younger Leuppold had said. Any young fellow who -could work up a case like that under cover and drive a -man like Henry K. Loring to the wall was good enough -for him! That was the kind of a man he wanted for -Jane, just the kind of man to take up the game where -he would leave it and hold the great Loring interests together. -What did Jane want anyhow? She had loved -Phil Gallatin once. Her mother had told him so. And -now she had settled on Coleman Van Duyn! Hell!</p> - -<p>He got down at his own door with a sudden resolve -to find out just how things stood with Jane and Coley -Van Duyn. Mrs. Loring had wanted that match. It -wasn’t any of Loring’s choosing. She had wanted an -old Dutch ancestry. She’d be getting it with Coley and -that was about all she would get. Jane had been expected -back with the Ledyards from Virginia this morning. -Perhaps it wasn’t too late for her father to step -into the breach and repair the damage he had done.</p> - -<p>In reply to his question of the man in the hall, he -learned that Miss Loring had returned from the South -during the morning, but that she had been in her room -all day. Henry K. Loring climbed the marble stairs and -went along the landing to Mrs. Loring’s room. He found -her lying on the divan, a handkerchief crumpled in her -hands, her face stained with tears. A look of resignation -that was half a frown came into Loring’s face. Like -many another man, big in his walks abroad, he lost some -stature in the presence of a tearful wife.</p> - -<p>At his entrance she straightened and said irritably, -“I thought you were never coming.”</p> - -<p>“I was detained.” He looked at his watch. “Aren’t -you going to dress?”</p> - -<p>“No. I’m going to have my dinner brought up.”</p> - -<p>“What’s the matter?”</p> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_326" id="Page_326">[326]</a></span></p> - -<p>“Oh, what <em>isn’t</em> the matter? Jane, of course!”</p> - -<p>“Jane!”</p> - -<p>“I can’t make her out at all. She came back from -Warrenton this morning and went immediately to her -room. I went in this afternoon again. She was looking -miserably unhappy, and when I began talking to her she -burst into tears——”</p> - -<p>“Nerves?” he queried.</p> - -<p>“Oh, I don’t know. She hasn’t been herself for some -time. She’s looking very badly.”</p> - -<p>“Yes, I noticed that. What do you think the trouble -is?”</p> - -<p>Mrs. Loring sank back with a sigh.</p> - -<p>“Oh, I don’t know. I never did understand Jane, and -I don’t suppose I ever shall. She says she isn’t going -to anything this spring—that she wants to go abroad, -away from everybody. And, finally, when I pressed her—she -told me that she had given Coleman Van Duyn his -congé. Think of it!”</p> - -<p>The poor lady rattled on while Loring turned his -back and walked the length of the room to hide a smile -which grew suddenly at his lips. When she had finished -speaking, he returned and questioned again.</p> - -<p>“Why did she change her mind? Do you know?”</p> - -<p>“I don’t think she <em>has</em> changed her mind. I don’t -believe that she has ever cared for Mr. Van Duyn. It -was all a mask to hide her real feelings. I’m sure she -still loves that worthless Gallatin!”</p> - -<p>Loring’s eyebrows lifted, his gaze roved and his lips -were quickly compressed. Then his brows tangled.</p> - -<p>“What makes you think that?” he asked.</p> - -<p>“Everything makes me think it—everything—from -the manner in which she first confessed her love for him -to me to the curious way she has been treating Mr. Van<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_327" id="Page_327">[327]</a></span> -Duyn. He spoke about the matter only last week. Poor -fellow! He’s beginning to look very badly. Jane hasn’t -treated him fairly.”</p> - -<p>“That depends. They were never engaged.”</p> - -<p>Mrs. Loring raised herself on one elbow, her eyes -searching her husband’s face in surprise.</p> - -<p>“There was an understanding.”</p> - -<p>“Between you and Van Duyn. Jane never consented.”</p> - -<p>“Henry, I don’t understand you. You’ve let this -thing go on without speaking. You approved——”</p> - -<p>“No, I didn’t approve,” he said quickly. “I merely -acquiesced.”</p> - -<p>Mrs. Loring showed signs of inward agitation.</p> - -<p>“Oh, I give her up. I’ve done the best I could. She -has behaved very badly and I—I don’t know what to -think of her.” She began sobbing into her handkerchief -and renewed her familiar plaint. “I do the best I can -for her—for you, but you’re always going against me—both -of you. I’ve tried so hard this winter—kept going -when my nerves were on the ragged edge of collapse, just -because I thought it was my duty——”</p> - -<p>“There, there, Mother, don’t be foolish,” said Loring -soothingly. “Jane is young, too young to marry anyway. -She’ll decide some day.”</p> - -<p>“No. I know her. She makes up her mind to a thing -and she’ll cling to it until death. She’s like you in that -way. She would rather die than change. I ought to -have realized that. If she can’t marry Phil Gallatin, she -won’t marry any one. Phil Gallatin,” she cried, “the least -desirable young man in New York, a man without a -character, without friends, the last of a tainted stock, -a fortune hunter, dissolute——”</p> - -<p>He let her go on until she had exhausted both her<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_328" id="Page_328">[328]</a></span> -adjectives and her nerves while he listened thoughtfully, -and then asked,</p> - -<p>“You’re sure she still loves Mr. Gallatin?”</p> - -<p>“I’ve tried to believe that she would forget him—that -she would learn to care for Mr. Van Duyn. But she -hasn’t. She has never been the same girl since you told -her about that dreadful Jaffray woman. I’m afraid she’ll -be sick—really sick. But I can’t do anything. What <em>can</em> -I do?” The poor lady looked up plaintively, but her -husband had walked to the window and was looking out -into the Avenue.</p> - -<p>“Humph!” he grunted. “Lovesick, eh? There ought -to be a cure for that.”</p> - -<p>“What?”</p> - -<p>“Let her marry him.”</p> - -<p>“Henry!” Mrs. Loring sat bolt upright on her -couch, her eyes wide with incomprehension. “What do -you mean?”</p> - -<p>“What I say,” he returned calmly.</p> - -<p>“That—Jane—should—marry Phil Gallatin?”</p> - -<p>He nodded.</p> - -<p>“You’re mad!” she said, getting up and facing him. -“Stark mad! When you learned about them, you told -me you’d rather see her dead than married to him.”</p> - -<p>“Now I’d rather see her married to him than dead. -It’s simple enough. I’ve changed my mind.”</p> - -<p>“Am I taking leave of my senses—or are you?”</p> - -<p>“Neither, Mother,” he went over to her, his huge -frame towering above her small body as his mind towered -over hers, and took her gently by the elbows. “I’ve made -a mistake. So have you. But it’s not too late to mend -it. I say that if Jane wants Phil Gallatin, she shall have -him.”</p> - -<p>“No, no. What has happened, Henry?”</p> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_329" id="Page_329">[329]</a></span></p> - -<p>“I’ve opened my eyes, that’s all, or rather Gallatin -has opened them for me. I’m glad he did. And now I’m -going to open yours. Phil Gallatin is a full-sized <em>man</em>. -I found that out to-day—a man, every inch of one. I -don’t care about his past. <em>I</em> wasn’t anything to brag -about when I was a kid, and you know that, too. I didn’t -amount to a hill of beans until my father died and I went -up against it good and hard. I was down to bedrock, -as Phil Gallatin was, until I got kicked once too often, -and then I learned to kick back, and I’ve been kicking -back ever since. I don’t care about Phil Gallatin’s past. -That belongs to him. The only thing that matters about -the man Jane marries is his future. That’s hers.”</p> - -<p>Loring put his hands in his pockets and walked up -and down the rug, his bulk, physical and mental, dominating -Mrs. Loring’s tears.</p> - -<p>“Listen to me. I’ve let you go on with your plans -for Jane and I haven’t said anything, because I knew that -when the time came for Jane to marry, your plans -wouldn’t amount to much and mine wouldn’t either. Oh, -I’ve been looking on. I’ve been watching this Van Duyn -affair. I’ve never thought Jane would ever marry a -nonentity like Van Duyn. If I had thought so, I guess -I might have worried. But I didn’t worry because I never -thought she <em>did</em> want to marry him. It seems I was -right,” he chuckled.</p> - -<p>He waited a moment as though expecting an interruption -from his wife, but she made none, and only sat in -hopeless uncertainty listening dumbly.</p> - -<p>“For all her inexperience, Jane has an old head, -Mother. This splendor we’re living in, her success in -society, the flattery and compliments haven’t changed her -any. And she’s not going to let anybody make a fool -of her. She sees through people better than you do and<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_330" id="Page_330">[330]</a></span> -she doesn’t make many mistakes. I ought to have known -she wouldn’t have fallen in love with Phil Gallatin if there -hadn’t been something to him. I’ll give her credit for -that——”</p> - -<p>“What makes you think he’s worthy of her?” Mrs. -Loring broke in. “You talk of his future. What future -can there be for a man with a habit——”</p> - -<p>“Wait!” he commanded. “As to that—he’s quit, -do you understand? Quit it altogether. I’m just as sure -of that as I am that Jane’s judgment was better than -mine, so sure that I’m willing to stake Jane’s future on -it. You needn’t ask me why I know it, but I do. He’s -made good—with me and he’s made good with himself.”</p> - -<p>And while she listened he told her of the events of the -morning which had resulted in the failure of his financial -project and of Gallatin’s share in it.</p> - -<p>“And is this a reason? You’re willing to forgive him -his sins, his evil reputation, and take him into your house -as the husband of your only child, because he stands in -the way of your making a lot of money? I don’t understand.”</p> - -<p>“There’s a lot you don’t understand. You and I -don’t use the same kind of mental machinery. But I want -you to know that any boy of his age who’s got the nerve -to tackle a big game the way he did that one and win -out against a man of <em>my</em> caliber is the kind of a young -man I want on my side. He’s the kind of a young man -I’ve been looking for ever since I went into the coal business, -and I’m not going to let him go if I can help it.”</p> - -<p>“But his morals! You must know what people say -about him, that he’s——”</p> - -<p>“I don’t care what they say about him,” growled -Loring. “Half of the world is lying, and the other half -listening. I’m glad he isn’t a willy-boy. It’s the fellow<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_331" id="Page_331">[331]</a></span> -who has to fight temptations that learns the meaning of -victory. There are no airholes in the steel that’s been -through the blast, and that boy has been through the -blast. I can read it in his face. He couldn’t square up -to me the way he did if there was any weakness in him. -He’s suffered, but it hasn’t hurt him any. He’s found -himself. I’m going to help him. See here, Janet, I’m -getting older, and so are you. I’ve been thinking about -it some lately. I’m a pretty rich man and I’m going -to be richer. But do you think I want to turn the money -I leave over to a man like Coley Van Duyn or Dirwell -De Lancey to make ducks and drakes of? Have it turned -into an amusement fund for the further debauching of -debauched gentility? Make a Trust Fund of it to perpetuate -the Pink Tea? I reckon not. I haven’t worked -all these years for nothing, and I’m going to see that -Jane doesn’t make the mistakes of other rich men’s children. -I don’t think she wants to anyway. I’ve always -told her that she wouldn’t find the man she’s going to -marry walking up and down Fifth Avenue. The man -to keep my estate together has got to be made of different -stuff. I’ve found him. He’s an ace that I dropped into -the discard by mistake, but I’m going to play him just -the same. I want him, and if Jane wants him, too, I’m -going to get him for her.”</p> - -<p>“I don’t know what to think of you. I can’t see -yet——” Mrs. Loring wailed.</p> - -<p>Loring stopped beside her and patted her on the -shoulder.</p> - -<p>“Don’t you worry, Janet. I know what I’m about. -You leave this to me. Is Jane in her room? I want to -see her.”</p> - -<p>“Yes,” said Mrs. Loring in tones of resignation. -“She’s there, but I don’t think she’d see you, even if she<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_332" id="Page_332">[332]</a></span> -knew what you wanted to talk about. To-morrow, perhaps.”</p> - -<p>Loring shrugged his massive shoulders. “Oh, all -right,” he growled, and made his way to his own dressing-room. -He held the keys to the situation in his hand, -and manlike wanted to use them without delay, to unlock -the door that barred the way to happiness for Jane, to -act at once upon the inspiration that had come to him -and settle for all time the problem of the future. But -he took his wife’s advice and postponed the talk with his -daughter, wondering at the ways of women. He dined -alone and went to his study early, sat at his desk and -wrote the following note to Philip Gallatin.</p> - -<div class="blockquot"> -<p class="noi"><span class="smcap">Dear Mr. Gallatin</span>:</p> - -<p>Our meeting this morning was so brief and so public that -I was prevented from speaking to you as freely as I would -have liked. I’ve done you a wrong—an injustice, and I want -to do what I can to set the matter right, with respect to your -future relations with me and with my family. I have already -done what I can and I am sure that both Mrs. Loring and -my daughter will gladly welcome you as a guest to our house -whenever you may call.</p> - -<p>I hope this will be soon, Mr. Gallatin. I only wanted to -put myself on record with you that you may be assured that -there will be no further misunderstandings on your part of -our intentions toward you.</p> - -<p class="noic">Very sincerely yours,</p> - -<p class="right"><span class="smcap">Henry K. Loring</span>.</p> -</div> - -<p>The note written, he sealed it and rang for Hastings.</p> - -<p>“Have this note delivered at once. Try the Cosmos -Club and, if Mr. Gallatin is not there, find him.”</p> - -<p>This burden off his broad shoulders, Loring smiled, -turned on his reading lamp, took some newly acquired -snuff boxes out of a cabinet and under his magnifying<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_333" id="Page_333">[333]</a></span> -glass, proceeded to enjoy them. It was in the midst of -this pleasant occupation that some time later, he was -interrupted by the entrance of his daughter. She was -dressed in a pale blue lounging robe, and her bedroom -slippers made no sound on the heavy floor covering, but -the rustle of her draperies caused him to look up.</p> - -<p>“Hello, Jane!” he said, kissing her. “Glad to see -you, child. You slipped in like a ghost. Feeling any -better?”</p> - -<p>“Oh, I’m all right,” she said wearily. “Mother said -you wanted to see me.”</p> - -<p>Loring put down his magnifying glass and turned -toward her.</p> - -<p>“Yes, I did. Natural, isn’t it? I haven’t had a -chance to for a month.” He made her turn so that he -could look into her face. “You’re not looking right. -Your eyes are big as saucers. What’s the matter? Too -much gayety?”</p> - -<p>“Yes, I think so, Daddy. I’m a little tired, that’s all. -I need a rest.”</p> - -<p>Her father examined her in silence for a moment, -and then drew her down on a chair near him.</p> - -<p>“Jane, I’ve been thinking about you lately. We’ve -all been so busy this winter, you and mother, with your -dances and the opera, and I with business, that I’m afraid -we’ve been drifting apart. I don’t like it. You don’t -ever come in here to see me the way you used to.”</p> - -<p>“I haven’t had time,” she evaded.</p> - -<p>“That isn’t it, daughter. I know. It’s something -else. Something has come between us. I’ve felt it and -I feel it still.”</p> - -<p>She opened her eyes wide and looked at him and then -looked away.</p> - -<p>“That’s the truth and you know it, daughter. Something<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_334" id="Page_334">[334]</a></span> -has come between us. I’ve missed those talks with -you. They used to keep me in touch with the gentler side -of life, sort of humanized me somehow, made me a little -softer, a little gentler the next day. I’ve wanted you -often, Jane, but I didn’t know how to say so. And so -I got along without you. You’ve never quite forgiven -me, Jane?”</p> - -<p>Jane was pulling at the laces of her tea-gown with -thumb and forefinger, but she didn’t look up as she asked,</p> - -<p>“Forgiven you for what, Daddy?”</p> - -<p>“For coming between you and Phil Gallatin,” he said -gently.</p> - -<p>She started a trifle and then went on picking at the -lace on her frock.</p> - -<p>“Oh, that,” she said quietly. “You <em>had</em> to do that. -I’m glad you did.”</p> - -<p>“No,” he interrupted. “You’re not glad, Jane. -Neither am I. I did what I thought was my duty, but -it has made a difference with us both. I’m sorry.”</p> - -<p>“Sorry? Why?”</p> - -<p>“Because it has made you unhappy—and resentful.”</p> - -<p>“I’m not resentful.”</p> - -<p>“Yes. I’ve felt it. Even if I’d been justified, you -would still resent it.”</p> - -<p>“But you <em>were</em> justified, Daddy, weren’t you?” she -asked.</p> - -<p>She turned her gaze full on his face and the pain in -her eyes hurt him. He got up and walked the length of -the room before he replied.</p> - -<p>“I did what I thought was right. I’d probably do -the same thing again under similar circumstances. I—I -didn’t think Mr. Gallatin the kind of man I wanted for -you.”</p> - -<p>She lay back in her chair and looked into the fire, but<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_335" id="Page_335">[335]</a></span> -said nothing. Loring came close to her and laid his -hand on her shoulder.</p> - -<p>“You loved him, Jane?”</p> - -<p>She didn’t reply.</p> - -<p>“You still love him, daughter?”</p> - -<p>Her head moved slowly from side to side.</p> - -<p>“No,” she muttered, stiflingly, “no, no.”</p> - -<p>Loring smiled down at the top of her head.</p> - -<p>“Why should you deny it, Jane? What would you -say if I acknowledged that I had made a mistake in judgment, -that you were right after all, that Phil Gallatin -is not the man I thought him, that he’s worthy in every -way of your regard, that of all the young men I’ve met -in New York in business or out of it, he is the one man -I would rather have marry my daughter?”</p> - -<p>She had risen and was leaning toward him, pale and -trembling.</p> - -<p>“What—do—you—mean?” she whispered fearfully.</p> - -<p>He told her.</p> - -<p>“That case you spoke of——?”</p> - -<p>“He beat me—fairly—and he beat me badly, so badly -that I can’t afford to have him against me. I’ve taken -him into the business. I can’t afford to be without him.”</p> - -<p>“Then—what you said about him——”</p> - -<p>“I was fooled, child, completely fooled. We thought -he was a joke. We laughed at him and all the while he -was out West working, quietly, skillfully, diligently piling -up his evidence. He’s made good, Jane, and I’ve told him -so. I’ve written him a note to-night, a note of apology -for my share in his unhappiness, telling him that I was -sorry for what had happened and telling him that he -would be a welcome visitor to my house——”</p> - -<p>“Daddy!” Jane had straightened and now glanced -fearfully toward the door as though she expected to see<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_336" id="Page_336">[336]</a></span> -Phil Gallatin at any moment coming through the curtains. -“You had no right to do that! I will not see him. -Whatever his business relations with you, you have no -right to force him on me. I have known for a long time -that he was clever, that he could make his way in the -world if he wanted to, but your acceptance of him changes -nothing with me.”</p> - -<p>“But you love him,” he persisted.</p> - -<p>“No, no,” she protested. “I could never love a man -who had once been faithless—never forgive him—never -even in death. That a man is successful in the world is -all you men care about. Oh, I know you. Because he’s -matched his brain against yours and beaten you, you -think he’s a demigod; but that doesn’t change the heart -in him, the lips that swear love eternal while they’re kissing -another——”</p> - -<p>“Lies!” broke in Loring with a wave of his hand. “I -don’t believe that story.”</p> - -<p>Jane paused and examined him calmly, struggling for -her control. When she spoke her voice had sunk to -a trembling note scarcely above a whisper.</p> - -<p>“Can you prove that story was a lie?”</p> - -<p>“Prove it? No. But I believe it was.”</p> - -<p>“You didn’t believe so once. Have you heard anything -to make you change your opinion?” she insisted.</p> - -<p>He was tempted to lie but thought better of it, and -his hesitation cost him victory.</p> - -<p>Jane turned toward the door. “I’m going away somewhere—abroad, -if you’ll let me, away from here. I will -not see Mr. Gallatin—ever. I despise him—utterly.”</p> - -<p>She left her father standing in the middle of the room, -his mouth agape, and eyes staring at the door through -which she had disappeared. Keen as he was, there were<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_337" id="Page_337">[337]</a></span> -still some things in the world, he discovered, about which -he needed information.</p> - -<p>The next day Mr. Loring received a polite note from -Mr. Gallatin which still further mystified him. Mr. Gallatin -thanked him for his kind expressions of good will -and expressed the intention of studying further to deserve -them; but hoped that Mr. Loring would comprehend -that reasons which it were better not to mention, would -make it impossible for him to take advantage of Mr. -Loring’s personal kindness in his cordial invitation.</p> - -<p>Henry Loring was on the point of tearing up the -note in disgust but thought better of it. Instead, with -a subtlety which showed that he had not yet lost the -knack of taking advantage of the lesser lessons of life, -he left it obtrusively upon the dressing table in Mrs. Loring’s -boudoir, where later, in her mother’s absence, Jane -found it.</p> - -<hr class="chap" /> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_338" id="Page_338">[338]</a></span></p> - - - - -<div class="chapter"> -<h2><a name="XXVIII" id="XXVIII">XXVIII</a><br /> -<small>THE LODESTAR</small></h2> -</div> - - -<p class="cap">April dissolved in mist and rain and the flowers of -May were blossoming. Nellie Pennington, who had -not yet despaired, and Nina Jaffray, who had, were -driving in the Park in Mrs. Pennington’s victoria. For two -months Mrs. Pennington had been paying Nina more than -usual attention. To begin with she liked her immensely -as she had always done. Nina’s faults she believed to be -the inevitable result of her education and environment, -for Nina was the daughter of a Trust, and was its only -indulgence. The habit of getting what she wanted was -in her blood and she simply couldn’t understand being -balked in anything. But Nina was beginning slowly and -with some difficulty to grasp the essentials of Philip Gallatin’s -character and the permanence of his reconstruction; -and with the passage of time and event Nina had -a glimmering of the true caliber of his mind, all of which -brought out with unflattering definiteness her own frivolity -and gave a touch of farce-comedy, with which she had -in her heart been far from investing it, to her unconventional -wooing.</p> - -<p>Nellie Pennington understood her, and noted with no -little satisfaction the evidence of the chastening of her -spirit. She knew now beyond all doubt that had it not -been for Nina, the reconciliation of Jane and Phil Gallatin -would have been effected.</p> - -<p>She knew, too, that Nina had not played fair, and -guessed by what means Jane had been victimized. Indeed,<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_339" id="Page_339">[339]</a></span> -Jane’s indifference to Nina bore all tokens of intolerance, -the intolerance of the pure for the contaminated, the contemptuous -pity of the innocent for the guilty. But Mrs. -Pennington had not lived in vain, and a talent for living -her own life according to an accepted code, had given her -a kindly insight into the lives of others. Whatever Nina’s -faults, she had never merited Jane’s pity or contempt. -Jane was a fool, of course, but so was Nina, each in her -own way—a fool; but of the two it now seemed that Nina -was the lesser. Nellie Pennington had already noticed -signs that Nina was tired of the game and knew that -if Larry Kane played his own trumps with care, he might -still win the odd trick, which was Nina. But as far as -Jane was concerned, Nellie also knew that Nina was ready -to die at her guns, for a dislike once born in Nina’s breast -was not speedily dispelled.</p> - -<p>Mrs. Pennington looked up at the obelisk as though -in the hope that some of the wisdom of its centuries might -suddenly be imparted to her. Then she asked, “Nina, -why don’t you marry Larry Kane?”</p> - -<p>Nina Jaffray smiled.</p> - -<p>“And confess defeat? Why?”</p> - -<p>“Better confess it now than later.”</p> - -<p>“Why confess it at all?”</p> - -<p>“You’ll have to some day. You’re not going to marry -Phil, you know.”</p> - -<p>“No, I’m not going to marry Phil. I know that now. -I haven’t proposed to him for at least a month—and then -he was quite impolite—rude, in fact.” She sighed. “Oh, -I don’t care, but I don’t want Jane Loring to marry him.”</p> - -<p>“She’s not likely to. She’s as hopelessly stubborn as -you are.”</p> - -<p>Nellie Pennington waited a moment, and then with a -laugh, “Nina, you’ve enjoyed yourself immensely, haven’t<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_340" id="Page_340">[340]</a></span> -you? Jane is <em>such</em> an innocent. I’d give worlds to know -what you said to her!”</p> - -<p>Nina laughed. “Would you?”</p> - -<p>“Yes, <em>do</em> tell me.”</p> - -<p>“I will. It’s very amusing. She expected me to lie, -of course. So I simply told her the truth.”</p> - -<p>“And she believed——”</p> - -<p>“The opposite.”</p> - -<p>“Of course.”</p> - -<p>Nellie Pennington laughed up at the passing tree tops.</p> - -<p>“How clever of you, Nina! You’re wasting your -time single. A girl of your talents needs an atmosphere -in which to display them.”</p> - -<p>“And you suggest matrimony,” said Nina scornfully.</p> - -<p>“There’s always your husband, you know.”</p> - -<p>“But Larry isn’t an atmosphere. He’s too tangible.”</p> - -<p>“All men are. It’s their chief charm.”</p> - -<p>“H-m. I’ve never thought so. I shouldn’t have -wanted to marry Phil if he had been tangible.”</p> - -<p>“Then suppose he had—er—accepted you?”</p> - -<p>Nina shrugged and crossed her knees.</p> - -<p>“I should probably have hated him cordially.”</p> - -<p>The conversation changed, then lagged, and by the -time Nina’s home was reached both women were silent, -Nina because she was bored, Nellie because she was -thinking.</p> - -<p>“Good-by, dear,” laughed Nina, as she got down at -her door. “Don’t be surprised at anything you hear. -I’m quite desperate, so desperate that I may even take -your advice. You’ll see me off at the pier, won’t you?”</p> - -<p>Nellie Pennington nodded. She was quite sure that -it was better for everybody that Miss Jaffray should be -upon the other side of the water.</p> - -<p>The week following, quite by chance she met Henry<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_341" id="Page_341">[341]</a></span> -K. Loring one afternoon in the gallery at the Metropolitan -where the ceramics were. An emissary from the office -was opening the cases for him and with rare delight he -was examining their contents with a pocket glass. She -watched him for a while and when the great man relinquished -the last piece of Lang-Yao <i lang="fr" xml:lang="fr">sang de bœuf</i> and -the case was closed and locked, she intercepted him and -led him off to a bench in a quiet corner where she laid -before him the result of a week of deliberation. He had -begun by being bored, for there was a case of the tea-dust -glazes which he had still planned to look over, but in -a moment he had warmed to her proposals and was discussing -them with animation.</p> - -<p>Yes, he had already planned to go to the Canadian -woods again this summer. Mrs. Loring wanted to go -abroad this year. Mrs. Loring didn’t like the woods -unless he rented a permanent camp, the kind of place -that he and Jane despised. The plan had been discussed -and Jane had expressed a willingness to go. But at Mrs. -Loring’s opposition the matter had been dropped. But -Loring had not given up the idea. It would do Jane a lot -of good, he admitted. Mrs. Pennington’s was a great -plan, a brave plan, a beautiful plan, one that did credit to -her sympathies and one that must in the end be successful. -He would manage it. He would take the matter up -at once and arrange for the same guides and outfit he -had had last year. Would Mr. and Mrs. Pennington -come as his guests? Of course. Who else—Mr. Worthington -and Colonel Broadhurst? But could Mr. Kenyon -be relied upon to do his share? Very well. He would -leave that to Mrs. Pennington.</p> - -<p>The next afternoon, at Mrs. Pennington’s request, -John Kenyon called at her house in Stuyvesant Square, -and his share in the arrangement was explained to him.<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_342" id="Page_342">[342]</a></span> -He was willing to do anything for Phil Gallatin’s happiness -that he could, of course, but it amused him to learn -how the agreeable lady had taken that willingness for -granted, and how she waved aside the difficulties which, as -Kenyon suggested, might be encountered. Phil might have -other plans. He could be obstinate at times. It might -not be easy, either, to get Phil’s old guide for the pilgrimage. -He needed a rest himself, and would go with -Phil himself, if by doing so he could be of any assistance. -It was now the first week in May. He would see Phil -and report in a few days.</p> - -<p>It was the next morning at the office when Kenyon -broached the matter to his young partner. He was surprised -that Phil fell in with the plan at once.</p> - -<p>“Funny,” said Phil. “I was thinking of that yesterday. -I <em>am</em> tired. The woods will do me a lot of good, -but do you think that Hood can get along without us until -August?”</p> - -<p>“We’ll manage in some way. You deserve a rest, and -I’m going to take one whether I deserve it or not. Could -you get that guide you had last year, what’s his name—Joe——?”</p> - -<p>“Keegón. I could try. We’d need two, but Joe can -get another man. I have the address. I’ll write to-day.”</p> - -<p>Gallatin got up and walked across the room to the -door, where he stopped.</p> - -<p>“I suppose I can fix matters with Mr. Loring——”</p> - -<p>“Yes, I think so,” replied Kenyon guardedly. “But -you’d better be sure of it. He’s coming here to-morrow, -isn’t he?”</p> - -<p>Gallatin nodded gravely, and then thoughtfully went -out.</p> - -<p>That night John Kenyon dutifully reported in Stuyvesant -Square. Mr. Loring also dutifully reported there,<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_343" id="Page_343">[343]</a></span> -and the three persons completed the details of the conspiracy.</p> - -<p>So it happened that toward the middle of June, Phil -Gallatin and John Kenyon reached the “jumping-off -place” in the Canadian wilds. No two “jumping-off -places” are alike, but this one consisted of three or four -frame dwellings and a store, all squatted on the high -bank of a small river, which came crystal-clear from the -mystery of the deep woods above. John Kenyon got -down from the stage that had driven them the ten miles -from the nearest railroad station and stood on the plank -walk in front of the store, a touch of color in his yellow -cheeks, sniffing eagerly at the smell of the pine balsam. -Gallatin glanced around at the familiar scene. Nothing -was changed—the canoes drawn up along the bank, the -black setter dog, the Indian packers lounging in the shade, -the smell of their black tobacco, and the cool welcome of -the trader who came out of the store to greet them.</p> - -<p>Joe Keegón and another Indian, whose name turned -out to be Charlie Knapp, got the valises out of the wagon. -Gallatin offered Joe his hand, and the Indian took it -with the steady-eyed taciturnity of the wilderness people. -Joe was no waster of words or of emotion. He led -the way into the store of the trader, and they went over -the outfit together—blankets, ammunition, tea, pork, flour, -tents, and all the rest of it, while John Kenyon sat on a -flour barrel, swinging his legs, smoking a corncob pipe and -listening.</p> - -<p>That night, after Phil had turned in, he sent a letter -and a telegram to a Canadian address and gave them to -the teamster with some money. Then he, too, went to bed—dreaming -of Arcadia.</p> - -<hr class="tb" /> - -<p>They had been in the woods for three weeks now.<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_344" id="Page_344">[344]</a></span> -They weren’t traveling as light as Phil had done the year -before and the outfit included two canoes, well loaded. -So they went slowly northward by easy stages, fishing the -small streams and camping early. Gallatin had at first -been in some doubt as to his partner’s physical fitness for -severe work, but he soon found that he need have given -himself no concern, for with every day a year seemed to -be slipping away from John Kenyon, who insisted on taking -his share of the burdens with a will that set Phil Gallatin’s -mind at rest. And as they went farther into the -wilderness, they made almost camp for camp the ones -that Phil had made the year before. John Kenyon had -hoped that Phil would take him into the Kawagama country. -He wanted very much to see that waterfall on the -south fork of the Birch River that Phil had spoken of. -Kenyon had an eye for the beautiful.</p> - -<p>For some time he had been wondering what course of -action he would take if Phil refused to fall in with his -plans, and had already begun to think that it was time -to take Joe into his confidence; but he soon found that -subterfuge was unnecessary, for Gallatin was directing -their course with an unerring definiteness to his own -farthest camp among the hills. John Kenyon guessed -something of what was passing in the mind of the younger -man, and over the camp-fire watched him furtively. The -sun and wind had tanned him and the vigorous exercise -had brought an appetite that had filled the hollows of his -cheeks; but in spite of the glow of health and youth and -the delight of their old friendship, a shadow still hung -in Phil Gallatin’s eyes, which even the joy of the present -could not dispel. Kenyon smoked quietly and asked subtle -questions about their further pilgrimage.</p> - -<p>“To-morrow we’ll reach the permanent camp, eh, -Joe?” said Gallatin.</p> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_345" id="Page_345">[345]</a></span></p> - -<p>Keegón nodded.</p> - -<p>“We’ll stay there for a while—fish and explore.”</p> - -<p>As the time approached for his dénouement, Kenyon -had a guilty sense of intrusion which tempered his -delight in the possible success of the venture. But he remembered -that he had had little to do in shaping the -course of events or the direction of their voyage, except -to modify the speed of their journeys so that Phil might -reach the spot intended at the appointed time. Phil -seemed drawn forward as though by a lodestar to his -destination, as though some force greater than his own -will was impelling him.</p> - -<p>Kenyon had taken pains to keep a record by the calendar. -It was the twenty-eighth of June. The next day -Kenyon changed places with Phil and went in Joe’s canoe, -when he took the old Indian into his confidence.</p> - -<p>“We will camp to-night. To-morrow Phil will want -to go fishing alone. You must keep him in camp until the -next day. Then you must go with him in the morning, -and lead him to the camp in the hills where the deer was -killed. <i>Comprenez?</i>”</p> - -<p>Joe had learned to understand this grave, quiet man -from the city, who did his share of the work and who -never complained, and he recognized, by its contrast to -this docility and willingness, the sudden voice of authority. -He nodded.</p> - -<p>“A’right,” he said, with a nod. “I take heem.”</p> - -<p>Joe’s loquacity was flattering. It was the first time -on their pilgrimage that Kenyon had heard Joe utter -more than one word at a time.</p> - -<p>The woods had seemed so vast, so interminable that -Kenyon had often wondered whether it would be possible -to find a spot so lacking in identity as the one they were -seeking. But Joe’s nod and smile completely reassured<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_346" id="Page_346">[346]</a></span> -him. In his unfamiliarity with the wilderness he had forgotten -that here was Joe Keegón’s city, its trails, portages -and streams as clearly mapped in his mind as the streets -of John Kenyon’s New York. The Indian would find the -place where the deer was killed. Kenyon breathed a sigh -of relief. The wheel of Destiny was spinning now and -Kenyon had nothing to do but sit and watch. He had -done his share.</p> - -<p>That night there was much to do, but Keegón seemed -in no hurry. When Gallatin, who seemed tireless was for -making a permanent camp at once, Joe shook his head -and went on cleaning fish.</p> - -<p>“To-morrow,” he said.</p> - -<p>When the morrow came, Gallatin was off in the underbrush -hunting firewood before the others were awake. -From his place by the fire Joe watched him lazily.</p> - -<p>“Aren’t you going to get to work, Joe?”</p> - -<p>“Soon,” the Indian grunted, but made no movement -to get up.</p> - -<p>“I want to fish.”</p> - -<p>“To-morrow.”</p> - -<p>“Why not to-day?”</p> - -<p>“Make camp.”</p> - -<p>“It won’t take all day to make camp.”</p> - -<p>“Rest,” said Joe. And that was all that Gallatin -could get out of him, so he said no more, for he knew by -experience that when Joe’s mind had decided a question -of policy, mere words made no impression on him.</p> - -<p>John Kenyon listened from the flap of the tent, with -a sleepy eye on the rising sun.</p> - -<p>“Don’t try to combat the forces of nature, my son,” -he laughed. “Joe’s right! I for one am going to take -things easy.” And he rolled himself in his blanket, sank -back on his balsam couch and closed his eyes again.</p> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_347" id="Page_347">[347]</a></span></p> - -<p>There was nothing for Phil but to bow to the inevitable. -That day he worked harder even than the -guides and it seemed to John Kenyon that some inward -force was driving him at the top of his bent. He spoke -little, laughed not at all and late in the afternoon went -off upstream alone with his rod and creel, returning later -gloomy and morose.</p> - -<p>“No fish,” said Joe, looking at the empty creel. -“Fish to-morrow!”</p> - -<p>Joe actually smiled and Gallatin laughed in spite of -himself.</p> - -<p>“Beeg fish—to-morrow,” repeated Joe. “I show—um.”</p> - -<p>The next day Kenyon stayed in camp with Charlie -Knapp, and watched Phil’s departure upstream. Joe -had full instructions and as he followed Gallatin’s broad -shoulders into the brush he turned toward the fire and -nodded to Kenyon. There was a pact between them and -Kenyon understood.</p> - -<p>The sun was high before Joe left the stream and cut -into the underbrush. His employer hadn’t even taken his -rod from its case, and his creel was empty. Early in the -morning he had asked his guide to take him to the little -stream where the deer was killed, and he followed the swift -noiseless steps of the old Indian, his shoulders bent, his -eyes peering through the thicket in search of landmarks. -It was midday before the two men reached the familiar -water and Phil identified the two bowlders above his old -camping-place. Here Keegón halted, eying the pool -below.</p> - -<p>“Fish,” said he.</p> - -<p>Gallatin fingered at the fastenings of his rod case, -looking downstream, while Joe sat on a rock and munched -a biscuit.</p> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_348" id="Page_348">[348]</a></span></p> - -<p>“I’m going downstream, Joe. You follow.”</p> - -<p>The Indian nodded and Gallatin moved down among -the rocks in the bed of the stream. Pools invited him, -but he did not fish. He had not even jointed his rod. -He was moving rapidly now, like a man with a mission, a -mission with which fishing had nothing in common, splashing -through the shallow water, jumping from rock to -rock, or where the going was good along the shore, -through the underbrush. There was a trail to follow -now, a faint trail scarcely defined, but in which he saw -the faint marks of last year’s footprints. His own they -must be, heavy from the weight of the deer he had carried -through the mud and wet. They were the symbols -of his regeneration. Since then he had brought other -burdens to camp and had thrown them at her feet, for -what?</p> - -<p>Later on, in a moist spot, he stopped and peered at the -ground curiously. Other footprints had emerged from -somewhere and joined his own, fresh footprints, one made -by the in-turned toe of an Indian, the other smaller, the -heel of which cut deep into the mud and moss. He bent -forward following them eagerly. What could a woman -be doing here?</p> - -<p>Suddenly Gallatin straightened and sniffed the air. -The smoke of a camp fire! The smell of cooking fish! -Some one had preceded him. He moved forward cautiously, -his heart beating with suppressed excitement, his -mind for the first time aware that unusual impulses had -dominated him all the morning. He also knew that the -smell of those cooking fish was delicious.</p> - -<p>In a moment he recognized the glade, the two beech -trees and the rock, saw the bulk of the shack that he -had built, the glow of the fire and a small figure sitting -on a log before it, cooking fish on a spit. He stopped<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_349" id="Page_349">[349]</a></span> -and passed a hand before his eyes. Had a year passed? -Or was it—yesterday? Who was the girl that sat familiarly -at his fire, hatless, her brown hair tawny in the -sunlight, her slender neck bent forward?</p> - -<p>He rubbed his eyes and peered again. There was no -mistake. It was Jane.</p> - -<hr class="chap" /> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_350" id="Page_350">[350]</a></span></p> - - - - -<div class="chapter"> -<h2><a name="XXIX" id="XXIX">XXIX</a><br /> -<small>ARCADIA AGAIN</small></h2> -</div> - - -<p class="cap">She did not move at his approach, although his footsteps -among the dried leaves must have been plainly -audible, and he was within ten feet of the fire before -she turned.</p> - -<p>“We had better be going soon, Challón,” she began -and then stopped, as she raised her head and looked at -him. He wore his old fishing hat with the holes in it, a -faded blue flannel shirt, corduroys and laced boots; and -as her eye passed quickly over his figure to his face, she -paled, started backward and stared with a terror in her -eyes of something beyond comprehension. He saw her -put her arm before her face to shut out the sight of him -and rise to one knee, stumbling blindly away, when he -caught her in his arms, whispering madly:</p> - -<p>“Jane! Jane! Don’t turn away from me. It’s Phil, -do you hear? Myself—no other. You were waiting for -me—and I came to you.”</p> - -<p>She trembled violently and her hand clutched his arm -as though to assure herself of its reality.</p> - -<p>“Jane, look up at me. Look in my eyes and you’ll -see your vision there—where it has always been, and -always will be—unchangeable. Look at me, Jane.”</p> - -<p>Slowly she raised her head and saw that what he said -was true, the pallor of dismay retreating before the warm -flush that suffused her from neck to brow.</p> - -<p>“It’s—<em>you</em>, Phil? I can’t understand——”</p> - -<p>“Nor I. I don’t know or care—so long as you are<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_351" id="Page_351">[351]</a></span> -here—close in my arms. I’ll never let you go again. Kiss -me, Jane.”</p> - -<p>She obeyed, blindly, passionately, the wonder in her -eyes dying in heavenly content.</p> - -<p>“You came to me, Phil,” she whispered. “How? -Why?”</p> - -<p>“Because you wanted me, because you were waiting -for me. Isn’t it so?”</p> - -<p>“Yes, I was waiting for you. I came here because -I couldn’t stay away. I—I don’t know why I came—” -She paused and her hands tightened on his shoulders -again. “Oh, Phil,” she cried again, “there’s no mistake?”</p> - -<p>“No—no.”</p> - -<p>“You frightened me so. I thought you were—unreal—a -vision—your hat, your clothes are the same. I -thought you were—the ghost of happiness.”</p> - -<p>He kissed her tenderly.</p> - -<p>“There are no ghosts, Jane, dear. Not even those of -unhappiness,” he murmured. “There is no room for -anything in the world but hope and joy—and love—yours -and mine. I love you, dearest. Even when reason -despaired, I loved you most and loved the pain of it.”</p> - -<p>“The pain of it—I know.”</p> - -<p>She was sobbing now, her slender body quivering under -his caress.</p> - -<p>“Don’t, Jane,” he whispered. “Don’t cry. Don’t!”</p> - -<p>But she smiled up at him through her tears.</p> - -<p>“Let me, Phil, I—I’m so happy.”</p> - -<p>He soothed her gently and held her close in his arms, -her head against his breast, as he would have held that -of a tired child. After a time she relaxed and lay quiet.</p> - -<p>“You’re glad?” he asked.</p> - -<p>There was no reply.</p> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_352" id="Page_352">[352]</a></span></p> - -<p>“Are you glad?” he repeated.</p> - -<p>“Glad! Oh, Phil, I’ve suffered so.”</p> - -<p>“Oh, Jane, why? Look at me, dear. It was all a -mistake. How could you have misjudged me?”</p> - -<p>She drew away from him and took his head between -the palms of her hands and sought his eyes with her own.</p> - -<p>“There was no other?” she asked haltingly.</p> - -<p>“No—a thousand times no,” he returned her gaze -eagerly. “How could there be any other?” he asked -simply.</p> - -<p>She looked long and then closed her eyes and drew his -lips down to hers.</p> - -<p>“You believe in me—now?” he asked.</p> - -<p>“Yes,” she whispered, her eyes still closed. “I believe -in you. Even if I didn’t, I would still—still—adore -you.”</p> - -<p>“God bless you for that. But you <em>do</em> believe——” he -persisted.</p> - -<p>“Yes, yes, I do believe in you, Phil. I can’t doubt -you when you look at me like that.”</p> - -<p>“Then I’ll never look away from you.”</p> - -<p>“Don’t look away. Those eyes! How they’ve haunted -me. The shadows in them! There are no shadows -now, Phil. They’re laughing at me, at my feminine weakness, -convinced against itself. I thought you were a -ghost.” She held him away and looked at him. “But -you’re not in the least ghostlike. You’re looking very -well. I don’t believe you’ve worried.”</p> - -<p>“Nor you. I’ve never seen you looking handsomer. -It’s hardly flattering to my vanity.”</p> - -<p>She sighed.</p> - -<p>“I’ve lived in Arcadia for three weeks.”</p> - -<p>He led her over to the log beside the shack and sat -beside her.</p> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_353" id="Page_353">[353]</a></span></p> - -<p>“Tell me,” he said at last, “how you came to be -here—alone.”</p> - -<p>She straightened quickly and peered around.</p> - -<p>“But I’m <em>not</em> alone—my guide—he went into the -brush for firewood.”</p> - -<p>“Curious!”</p> - -<p>“He should be back by now.”</p> - -<p>“I hope he doesn’t come back.”</p> - -<p>“Oh, Phil, so do I—but he will. And you?”</p> - -<p>“My guide, Joe Keegón, is there,” and he pointed upstream.</p> - -<p>A shade passed over her face.</p> - -<p>“But we’ll send them away, Jane, back where they -came from. We need no guides now, you and I, no -guides but our hearts, no servants but our hands. We’ll -begin again—where we left off—yesterday.”</p> - -<p>She crouched closer in his arms.</p> - -<p>“Yesterday. Yes, it was only yesterday that we were -here,” she sighed. “But the long night between!”</p> - -<p>“A dream, Jane, a dream—a phantom unhappiness—only -this is real.”</p> - -<p>“Are you sure? I’m afraid I’ll awaken.”</p> - -<p>“No,” he laughed. “See, the fire is just as we left -it last night; the black log charred, the shack, your bed, -the two birch trees and your ridgepole.”</p> - -<p>“Yes,” she smiled.</p> - -<p>“The two creels and the cooking fish——”</p> - -<p>“Oh, those fish! My fish are all in the fire.”</p> - -<p>“Do you care?”</p> - -<p>“No—I’ll let them burn. But you’ll be good to me, -won’t you, Phil?”</p> - -<p>There was another long pause. About them the orchestral -stillness of the deep woods, amid which they lived -a moment of immortality, all thought, all speech inadequate<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_354" id="Page_354">[354]</a></span> -to their sweet communion. A venturesome sparrow -perched itself upon Jane’s ridgepole, and after putting -its head on one side in inquiry uttered a low and joyful -chirp, and failing to attract attention flew away to tell -the gossip to its mate. The breeze crooned, the stream -sighed and the sunlight kissed the cardinal flowers, which -lifted their heads for its caress. All Nature breathed contentment, -peace and consummation.</p> - -<p>But there was much to be said, much mystery to be -revealed, and it was Jane who first spoke. She drew -away from him gently and looked out into the underbrush.</p> - -<p>“Phil! Those guides,” she whispered. “They may -have seen.”</p> - -<p>“Let them. I don’t care. Do you?”</p> - -<p>“Ye-s. Let me think. I can’t understand. Why -hasn’t Challón come back? He was here a minute ago—or -was it an hour? I don’t know.” Her fingers struggled -with the disorder of her hair as she smiled at him.</p> - -<p>“Challón is a myth. I don’t believe you had a -guide.”</p> - -<p>“A myth, indeed! I wish he was—now. I wanted -to go out alone, but father wouldn’t let me——”</p> - -<p>“Mr. Loring!” Gallatin started up. “Oh, of -course!” he sighed. “I had forgotten that there were -such things as fathers.”</p> - -<p>“But there are—there is—” she laughed, “a perfectly -substantial father within ten miles from here.”</p> - -<p>“You’re in camp again—in the same spot?”</p> - -<p>She nodded.</p> - -<p>“Any one else?” he frowned. “Not Mr. Van Duyn.”</p> - -<p>“Oh, dear, no. Coley has gone to Carlsbad.”</p> - -<p>He took her by the hand again. “You sent him -away?”</p> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_355" id="Page_355">[355]</a></span></p> - -<p>“Yes.”</p> - -<p>“When?”</p> - -<p>“After ‘Clovelly.’ Oh, Phil, you hurt me so. But -I couldn’t stand seeing him after that.”</p> - -<p>“Why?”</p> - -<p>“Because, cruel as you were, I knew that you were -right and that I was wrong. I hated you that night—hated -you because you made me such a pitiful thing; -but— Oh, I loved you, too, more than ever. If only -you hadn’t been so hard—so bitter. If you had been -gentle then, you might have taken me in your arms and -crushed me if you liked. I shouldn’t have cared.”</p> - -<p>“Sh—that was only in the dream, Jane.” And then: -“You never cared for <em>him</em>?” he asked quickly.</p> - -<p>“Never.”</p> - -<p>“Then why——?”</p> - -<p>“My pride, Phil. Poor Coley!”</p> - -<p>He echoed the words heartlessly.</p> - -<p>“Poor Coley!”</p> - -<p>A pause. “Who else is in camp?”</p> - -<p>“Colonel Broadhurst, Mr. Worthington, Mr. and -Mrs. Pennington——”</p> - -<p>“Nellie! Here?”</p> - -<p>“Yes, she had never been in the woods before. Why, -what is the matter, Phil?”</p> - -<p>Gallatin straightened, one hand to his forehead.</p> - -<p>“I have it,” he said.</p> - -<p>“Have what?”</p> - -<p>“It was Nellie. I might have guessed it.”</p> - -<p>“Guessed——?”</p> - -<p>“It was <em>her</em> plan—coming up here—to the woods. -Before we left New York she and John Kenyon were as -thick as thieves—and——”</p> - -<p>“Oh!”</p> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_356" id="Page_356">[356]</a></span></p> - -<p>“Good old Uncle John! He did it. I remember now—a -hundred things.”</p> - -<p>It was Jane’s turn to be surprised.</p> - -<p>“Yes—yes. It’s true, Phil. Oh, how cleverly they -managed! But how could Nellie have known that I would -come here? I only told Johnny Challón.”</p> - -<p>Phil laughed.</p> - -<p>“Nellie Pennington is a remarkable woman. She -knew. She knows everything.”</p> - -<p>“Yes, I think she does,” said Jane. “We’ve been in -camp a week. I started with Challón four days ago. He -said he had lost the trail, and I gave it up. This morning—I -can see it all now. Father—and Nellie started -me off themselves at sunrise. They knew I’d come here -and——”</p> - -<p>She stopped and took him abruptly by the arm. -“Phil! Those wicked people had even fixed the day and -hour of our meeting.”</p> - -<p>He nodded.</p> - -<p>“Of course! I wanted to come yesterday, but they -wouldn’t let me. If I had—I should have missed you.”</p> - -<p>“Oh—how terrible!”</p> - -<p>Her accents were so genuine, her face so distressed at -this possibility, that he laughed and caught her in his -arms again.</p> - -<p>“But I <em>didn’t</em> miss you, Jane. That’s the point. -Even if I had, Nellie would have managed somehow. -She’s an extraordinary woman.”</p> - -<p>“She is, Phil. She chaperoned me until Coley was at -the point of exasperation.”</p> - -<p>“Quite right of her, too.”</p> - -<p>“But why has she taken such an interest in you—in -us?”</p> - -<p>“Because she’s an angel, because she has the wisdom<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_357" id="Page_357">[357]</a></span> -of the centuries, because she is a born matchmaker, because -she always does what she makes up her mind to -do, and, lastly—and most important, Jane, she has a -proper sense of the eternal fitness of things.”</p> - -<p>“That’s true. Nothing else was possible, was it, -Phil?”</p> - -<p>“No. It was written—a thousand years ago.”</p> - -<p>She turned in his arms.</p> - -<p>“Have you thought that—always?” she asked.</p> - -<p>“I never gave up hoping.”</p> - -<p>“Nor I.”</p> - -<p>She was silent a moment.</p> - -<p>“Phil.”</p> - -<p>“What, Jane?”</p> - -<p>“Would you have come here to Arcadia, alone, even -if——”</p> - -<p>“Yes. I would have come here—alone. I was planning -it all spring. This place is redolent of you. Your -spirit has haunted it for a year. I wanted to be here -to share it with Kee-way-din, if I couldn’t have—yourself.”</p> - -<p>“What would you have done if I had not been here?”</p> - -<p>“I don’t know—waited for you, I think.”</p> - -<p>“But it was I—who waited——”</p> - -<p>“You didn’t wait long. What were you thinking of, -there by the fire?”</p> - -<p>“Of my dream.”</p> - -<p>“You dreamed of me?”</p> - -<p>“Yes. The night we came into camp I dreamed of -you. I saw you poling a canoe upstream. I followed -you across a portage. There was a heavy pack upon -your back, but you did not mind the weight, for your step -was light and your face happy. There was a shadow in -your eyes, the same shadow, but your lips were smiling.<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_358" id="Page_358">[358]</a></span> -Night fell and still you toiled in the moonlight, and I -knew that you were coming here. There were voices, too, -and you were singing with them; but I wasn’t afraid, because -you seemed so joyful.”</p> - -<p>“I <em>was</em> joyful.”</p> - -<p>“I saw the shack—and the ashes of the fire and I -saw you coming through the bushes toward it. But when -you came to the fire I was not there. You called me, but -I couldn’t answer. I tried to, but I seemed to be dumb—and -then—and that was all.”</p> - -<p>“A dream. It was all true—except the last.”</p> - -<p>“That’s why I came. I wanted to be here, so that -if you <em>did</em> come, you might not be disappointed. I had -failed you before. I did not want it to happen again. -I brought Challón to show me the way. I was coming -here again—and again—until you found me.”</p> - -<p>He raised her chin and looked into her eyes.</p> - -<p>“Dream again, dear.”</p> - -<p>“I’m dreaming now,” she sighed. “It is so sweet. -Don’t let me wake, Phil. It—it mightn’t be true.”</p> - -<p>“Yes, it’s true, all true. You’ll marry me, Jane?”</p> - -<p>“Whenever you ask me to.”</p> - -<p>He looked away from her down the stream where the -sunlight danced in the open.</p> - -<p>“I told you once that I would come for you some -day—when I had conquered myself,” he said slowly, -“when I had made a place among the useful men of the -world, when I could look my Enemy in the eye—for a -long while and not be defeated—to stare him down until -he stole away—far off where I wouldn’t ever find him.”</p> - -<p>“Yes.”</p> - -<p>“He has gone, Jane. He does not trouble me and -will not, I know. It was a long battle, a silent battle<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_359" id="Page_359">[359]</a></span> -between us, but I’ve won. And I’m ready to take you, -Jane.”</p> - -<p>“Take me, then.”</p> - -<p>Her lips were already his.</p> - -<p>“You could have had me before, Phil,” she murmured. -“I would have fought the Enemy with you he was my -Enemy, too, but you would not have me.”</p> - -<p>He shook his head.</p> - -<p>“Not then. It was my own fight—not yours. And -yet if it hadn’t been for you, perhaps I shouldn’t have -fought at all.”</p> - -<p>She drew away from him a little.</p> - -<p>“No—I didn’t help you. I only made it harder. I’ll -regret that always. It was your own victory—against -odds.”</p> - -<p>He smiled.</p> - -<p>“What does it matter now. I <em>had</em> to win—not that -battle alone—but others.”</p> - -<p>“Yes, I know,” she smiled. “Father is mad about -you.”</p> - -<p>Gallatin threw up his chin and laughed to the sky.</p> - -<p>“He ought to be. I’d be mad, too, in his place.”</p> - -<p>His joy was infectious, and she smiled at him fondly.</p> - -<p>“You’re a very wonderful person, aren’t you?”</p> - -<p>“How could a demigod be anything else but wonderful? -You created me. Aren’t you pleased with your -handiwork?”</p> - -<p>“Immensely.”</p> - -<p>He paused a moment and then whispered into her -ear.</p> - -<p>“You’ll marry me—soon?”</p> - -<p>“Yes.”</p> - -<p>“When?”</p> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_360" id="Page_360">[360]</a></span></p> - -<p>“Whenever you want me, Phil.”</p> - -<p>“This summer! They shall leave us here!” he said.</p> - -<p>She colored divinely.</p> - -<p>“Oh!”</p> - -<p>“It can be managed.”</p> - -<p>“A wedding in the woods! Oh, Phil!”</p> - -<p>“Why not? I’ll see——”</p> - -<p>But she put her fingers over his lips and would not -listen to him.</p> - -<p>“Yes, dear,” he insisted, capturing her hands, “it -shall be here. All this is ours—<em>our</em> forest, <em>our</em> stream, <em>our</em> -sunlight, yours and mine, <em>our</em> kingdom. Would you -change a kingdom for a villa or a fashionable hotel?”</p> - -<p>“No, no,” she whispered.</p> - -<p>“We will begin life together here—where love began—alone. -You shall cook and I shall kill for you, and -build with my own hands another shack, a larger one with -two windows and a door—a wonderful shack with chairs, -a table——”</p> - -<p>“And a porcelain bathtub?”</p> - -<p>“No—the bath is down the corridor—to the right.”</p> - -<p>She had used it.</p> - -<p>“It will do,” she smiled. “May I have a mirror?”</p> - -<p>“The pool——”</p> - -<p>Her lips twisted.</p> - -<p>“I tried it once, and fell in. A mirror, <em>please</em>,” she -insisted.</p> - -<p>“Yes—a mirror—then.”</p> - -<p>“And a—a small, a very tiny steamer trunk?”</p> - -<p>He laughed.</p> - -<p>“Oh, yes, and a French maid, smelling salts and a -motor——”</p> - -<p>“Phil! What shall I cook with?”</p> - -<p>“A frying pan and a tin coffeepot.”</p> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_361" id="Page_361">[361]</a></span></p> - -<p>“But I can make such beautiful muffins.”</p> - -<p>“I’ll build an oven.”</p> - -<p>“And cake——”</p> - -<p>“We’ll live like gods——”</p> - -<p>“Demigods——”</p> - -<p>“And goddesses.”</p> - -<p>It was sweet nonsense but nobody heard it but themselves.</p> - -<p>The shadows lengthened. The patches of light, turned -to gold, were lifting along the tree trunks when from the -deeps of the ancient forest below them there came three -flutelike notes of liquid music of such depth and richness -that they sat spellbound. In a moment they heard it -again, the three cadenced notes of unearthly beauty and -then the pause, while all nature held its breath and waited -to hear again.</p> - -<p>“The hermit thrush,” he whispered.</p> - -<p>“Oh, Phil. It’s from the very soul of things.”</p> - -<p>“Sh——”</p> - -<p>But they did not hear it again. The hermit thrush, -sings seldom and then only to those who belong to the -Immortal Brotherhood of the Forest.</p> - -<p class="p4 noic">THE END</p> - - - - -<hr class="chap" /> -<p class="noi adauthor"><i>The</i></p> - -<p class="noi adtitle">Underwood</p> - -<p class="noi">Is the machine upon which -all World’s Speed and -Accuracy typewriter records -have been established</p> - -<div class="figleft" style="width: 155px;"> -<img src="images/image05.jpg" width="155" height="131" - alt="The Underwood" title="The Underwood" /> -</div> - -<p class="ppt2 noic"><i>The</i></p> - -<p class="ppb2 noi adauthor">Underwood</p> - -<p class="noi">Is the holder of the Elliott -Cresson Medal for superiority -of mechanical construction</p> - -<p class="noi adtitle">Underwood</p> - -<p class="noic">“<i>The Machine You Will Eventually Buy</i>”</p> - -<hr class="r20" /> - -<p class="noic smcap">Underwood Building — New York</p> - - - - -<hr class="chap" /> -<p class="noi adtitle">JOHN FOX, JR.’S</p> - -<p class="noic">STORIES OF THE KENTUCKY MOUNTAINS</p> - -<p class="noi works">May be had wherever books are sold. Ask for Grosset and Dunlap’s list.</p> - - -<p class="p2 noi">THE TRAIL OF THE LONESOME PINE.</p> - -<p class="noi">Illustrated by F. C. Yohn.</p> - -<div class="figleft" style="width: 150px;"> -<img src="images/image06.jpg" width="150" height="206" - alt="STORIES OF THE KENTUCKY MOUNTAINS" title="STORIES OF THE KENTUCKY MOUNTAINS" /> -</div> - -<p>The “lonesome pine” from which the -story takes its name was a tall tree that -stood in solitary splendor on a mountain -top. The fame of the pine lured a young -engineer through Kentucky to catch the -trail, and when he finally climbed to its -shelter he found not only the pine but the -<em>foot-prints of a girl</em>. And the girl proved -to be lovely, piquant, and the trail of -these girlish foot-prints led the young -engineer a madder chase than “the trail -of the lonesome pine.”</p> - - -<p class="p2 noi">THE LITTLE SHEPHERD OF KINGDOM COME.</p> - -<p class="noi">Illustrated by F. C. Yohn.</p> - -<p>This is a story of Kentucky, in a settlement known as “Kingdom -Come.” It is a life rude, semi-barbarous; but natural -and honest, from which often springs the flower of civilization.</p> - -<p>“Chad.” the “little shepherd” did not know who he was nor -whence he came—he had just wandered from door to door since -early childhood, seeking shelter with kindly mountaineers who -gladly fathered and mothered this waif about whom there was -such a mystery—a charming waif, by the way, who could play -the banjo better than anyone else in the mountains.</p> - - -<p class="p2 noi">A KNIGHT OF THE CUMBERLAND.</p> - -<p class="noi">Illustrated by F. C. Yohn.</p> - -<p>The scenes are laid along the waters of the Cumberland, -the lair of moonshiner and feudsman. The knight is a moonshiner’s -son, and the heroine a beautiful girl perversely christened -“The Blight.” Two impetuous young Southerners fall -under the spell of “The Blight’s” charms and she learns what -a large part jealousy and pistols have in the love making of the -mountaineers.</p> - -<p>Included in this volume is “Hell fer-Sartain” and other -stories, some of Mr. Fox’s most entertaining Cumberland valley -narratives.</p> - - -<p class="p2 noic"><i>Ask for a complete free list of G. & D. Popular Copyrighted Fiction.</i></p> - -<p class="noi adauthor smcap">Grosset & Dunlap, 526 West 26th St., New York</p> - - - - -<hr class="chap" /> -<p class="noic">STORIES OF RARE CHARM BY</p> - -<p class="noi adtitle">GENE STRATTON-PORTER</p> - -<p class="noi works">May be had wherever books are sold. Ask for Grosset and Dunlap’s list.</p> - - -<p class="p2 noi">THE HARVESTER.</p> - -<p class="noi">Illustrated by W. L. Jacobs.</p> - -<div class="figleft" style="width: 150px;"> -<img src="images/image07.jpg" width="150" height="208" - alt="STORIES OF RARE CHARM BY GENE STRATTON-PORTER" - title="STORIES OF RARE CHARM BY GENE STRATTON-PORTER" /> -</div> - -<p>“The Harvester,” David Langston, is -a man of the woods and fields, who draws -his living from the prodigal hand of Mother -Nature herself. If the book had nothing in -it but the splendid figure of this man, with -his sure grip on life, his superb optimism, -and his almost miraculous knowledge of -nature secrets, it would be notable. But -when the Girl comes to his “Medicine -Woods,” and the Harvester’s whole sound, -healthy, large outdoor being realizes that -this is the highest point of life which has -come to him—there begins a romance, -troubled and interrupted, yet of the rarest idyllic quality.</p> - - -<p class="p2 noi">FRECKLES.</p> - -<p class="noi">Decorations by E. Stetson Crawford.</p> - -<p>Freckles is a nameless waif when the tale opens, but the way in -which he takes hold of life; the nature friendships he forms in the -great Limberlost Swamp; the manner in which everyone who meets -him succumbs to the charm of his engaging personality; and his love-story -with “The Angel” are full of real sentiment.</p> - - -<p class="p2 noi">A GIRL OF THE LIMBERLOST.</p> - -<p class="noi">Illustrated by Wladyslaw T. Brenda.</p> - -<p>The story of a girl of the Michigan woods; a buoyant, lovable -type of the self-reliant American. Her philosophy is one of love and -kindness towards all things; her hope is never dimmed. And by the -sheer beauty of her soul, and the purity of her vision, she wins from -barren and unpromising surroundings those rewards of high courage.</p> - -<p>It is an inspiring story of a life worth while and the rich beauties -of the out-of-doors are strewn through all its pages.</p> - - -<p class="p2 noi">AT THE FOOT OF THE RAINBOW.</p> - -<p class="noi">Illustrations in colors by Oliver Kemp. Design and decorations by -Ralph Fletcher Seymour.</p> - -<p>The scene of this charming, idyllic love story is laid in Central -Indiana. The story is one of devoted friendship, and tender self-sacrificing -love; the friendship that gives freely without return, and -the love that seeks first the happiness of the object. The novel is -brimful of the most beautiful word painting of nature, and its pathos -and tender sentiment will endear it to all.</p> - - -<p class="p2 noic"><i>Ask for a complete free list of G. & D. Popular Copyrighted Fiction.</i></p> - -<p class="noi adauthor smcap">Grosset & Dunlap, 526 West 26th St., New York</p> - - - - -<hr class="chap" /> -<p class="noic">THE NOVELS OF</p> - -<p class="noi adtitle">STEWART EDWARD WHITE</p> - - -<p class="p2 noi">THE RULES OF THE GAME.</p> - -<p class="noi">Illustrated by Lajaren A. Hiller.</p> - -<p>The romance of the son of “The Riverman.” The young college -hero goes into the lumber camp, is antagonized by “graft” and comes -into the romance of his life.</p> - - -<p class="p2 noi">ARIZONA NIGHTS.</p> - -<p class="noi">Illus. and cover inlay by N. C. Wyeth.</p> - -<p>A series of spirited tales emphasizing some phases of the life -of the ranch, plains and desert. A masterpiece.</p> - - -<p class="p2 noi">THE BLAZED TRAIL.</p> - -<p class="noi">With illustrations by Thomas Fogarty.</p> - -<p>A wholesome story with gleams of humor, telling of a young -man who blazed his way to fortune through the heart of the Michigan -pines.</p> - - -<p class="p2 noi">THE CLAIM JUMPERS. A Romance.</p> - -<p>The tenderfoot manager of a mine in a lonesome gulch of the -Black Hills has a hard time of it, but “wins out” in more ways than -one.</p> - - -<p class="p2 noi">CONJUROR’S HOUSE.</p> - -<p class="noi">Illustrated Theatrical Edition.</p> - -<p class="noi">Dramatized under the title of “The Call of the North.”</p> - -<p>“Conjuror’s House” is a Hudson Bay trading post where the -head factor is the absolute lord. A young fellow risked his life and -won a bride on this forbidden land.</p> - - -<p class="p2 noi">THE MAGIC FOREST. A Modern Fairy Tale.</p> - -<p class="noi">Illustrated.</p> - -<p>The sympathetic way in which the children of the wild and -their life is treated could only belong to one who is in love with the -forest and open air. Based on fact.</p> - - -<p class="p2 noi">THE RIVERMAN.</p> - -<p class="noi">Illus. by N. C. Wyeth and C. Underwood.</p> - -<p>The story of a man’s fight against a river and of a struggle -between honesty and grit on the one side, and dishonesty and -shrewdness on the other.</p> - - -<p class="p2 noi">THE SILENT PLACES.</p> - -<p class="noi">Illustrations by Philip R. Goodwin.</p> - -<p>The wonders of the northern forests, the heights of feminine -devotion, and masculine power, the intelligence of the Caucasian -and the instinct of the Indian, are all finely drawn in this story.</p> - - -<p class="p2 noi">THE WESTERNERS.</p> - -<p>A story of the Black Hills that is justly placed among the -best American novels. It portrays the life of the new West as no -other book has done in recent years.</p> - - -<p class="p2 noi">THE MYSTERY.</p> - -<p class="noi">In collaboration with Samuel Hopkins Adams.</p> - -<p class="noi">With illustrations by Will Crawford.</p> - -<p>The disappearance of three successive crews from the stout -ship “Laughing Lass” in mid-Pacific, is a mystery weird and inscrutable. -In the solution, there is a story of the most exciting voyage -that man ever undertook.</p> - -<p class="p2 noi adauthor smcap">Grosset & Dunlap, 526 West 26th St., New York</p> - - - - -<hr class="chap" /> -<p class="noi adtitle">B. M. Bower’s Novels</p> - -<p class="noi adauthor">Thrilling Western Romances</p> - -<p class="noic">Large 12 mos. Handsomely bound in cloth. Illustrated.</p> - - -<p class="p2 noi">CHIP, OF THE FLYING U.</p> - -<p>A breezy wholesome tale, wherein the love affairs of Chip and -Della Whitman are charmingly and humorously told. Chip’s -jealousy of Dr. Cecil Grantham, who turns out to be a big, blue -eyed young woman is very amusing. A clever, realistic story of -the American Cow-puncher.</p> - - -<p class="p2 noi">THE HAPPY FAMILY.</p> - -<p>A lively and amusing story, dealing with the adventures of -eighteen jovial, big hearted Montana cowboys. Foremost amongst -them, we find Ananias Green, known as Andy, whose imaginative -powers cause many lively and exciting adventures.</p> - - -<p class="p2 noi">HER PRAIRIE KNIGHT.</p> - -<p>A realistic story of the plains, describing a gay party of Easterners -who exchange a cottage at Newport for the rough homeliness -of a Montana ranch-house. The merry-hearted cowboys, the -fascinating Beatrice, and the effusive Sir Redmond, become living, -breathing personalities.</p> - - -<p class="p2 noi">THE RANGE DWELLERS.</p> - -<p>Here are everyday, genuine cowboys, just as they really exist. -Spirited action, a range feud between two families, and a Romeo -and Juliet courtship make this a bright, jolly, entertaining story, -without a dull page.</p> - - -<p class="p2 noi">THE LURE OF DIM TRAILS.</p> - -<p>A vivid portrayal of the experience of an Eastern author, -among the cowboys of the West, in search of “local color” for a -new novel. “Bud” Thurston learns many a lesson while following -“the lure of the dim trails” but the hardest, and probably the most -welcome, is that of love.</p> - - -<p class="p2 noi">THE LONESOME TRAIL.</p> - -<p>“Weary” Davidson leaves the ranch for Portland, where conventional -city life palls on him. A little branch of sage brush, -pungent with the atmosphere of the prairie, and the recollection of -a pair of large brown eyes soon compel his return. A wholesome -love story.</p> - - -<p class="p2 noi">THE LONG SHADOW.</p> - -<p>A vigorous Western story, sparkling with the free, outdoor, -life of a mountain ranch. Its scenes shift rapidly and its actors play -the game of life fearlessly and like men. It is a fine love story from -start to finish.</p> - -<p class="p2 noic">Ask for a complete free list of G. & D. Popular Copyrighted Fiction.</p> - -<p class="noi adauthor smcap">Grosset & Dunlap, 526 West 26th St., New York</p> - - - - -<hr class="chap" /> -<p class="noic">TITLES SELECTED FROM</p> - -<p class="noi adtitle">GROSSET & DUNLAP’S LIST</p> - -<p class="noic">RE-ISSUES OF THE GREAT LITERARY SUCCESSES OF THE TIME</p> - -<p class="noi works">May be had wherever books are sold. Ask for Grosset & Dunlap’s list.</p> - - -<p class="p2 noi">BEN HUR. A Tale of the Christ. By General Lew Wallace.</p> - -<p>This famous Religious-Historical Romance with its mighty story, -brilliant pageantry, thrilling action and deep religious reverence, -hardly requires an outline. The whole world has placed “Ben-Hur” -on a height of pre-eminence which no other novel of its time has -reached. The clashing of rivalry and the deepest human passions, -the perfect reproduction of brilliant Roman life, and the tense, fierce -atmosphere of the arena have kept their deep fascination.</p> - - -<p class="p2 noi">THE PRINCE OF INDIA. By General Lew Wallace.</p> - -<p>A glowing romance of the Byzantine Empire, showing, with vivid -imagination, the possible forces behind the internal decay of the Empire -that hastened the fall of Constantinople.</p> - -<p>The foreground figure is the person known to all as the Wandering -Jew, at this time appearing as the Prince of India, with vast -stores of wealth, and is supposed to have instigated many wars and -fomented the Crusades.</p> - -<p>Mohammed’s love for the Princess Irene is beautifully wrought -into the story, and the book as a whole is a marvelous work both -historically and romantically.</p> - - -<p class="p2 noi">THE FAIR GOD. By General Lew Wallace. A Tale of the -Conquest of Mexico. With Eight Illustrations by Eric Pape.</p> - -<p>All the annals of conquest have nothing more brilliantly daring -and dramatic than the drama played in Mexico by Cortes. As a -dazzling picture of Mexico and the Montezumas it leaves nothing to -be desired.</p> - -<p>The artist has caught with rare enthusiasm the spirit of the -Spanish conquerors of Mexico, its beauty and glory and romance.</p> - - -<p class="p2 noi">TARRY THOU TILL I COME or, Salathiel, the Wandering -Jew. By George Croly. With twenty illustrations by T. de Thulstrup.</p> - -<p>A historical novel, dealing with the momentous events that occurred, -chiefly in Palestine, from the time of the Crucifixion to the -destruction of Jerusalem.</p> - -<p>The book, as a story, is replete with Oriental charm and richness, -and the character drawing is marvelous. No other novel ever written -has portrayed with such vividness the events that convulsed Rome -and destroyed Jerusalem in the early days of Christianity.</p> - - -<p class="p2 noic"><i>Ask for a complete free list of G. & D. Popular Copyrighted Fiction.</i></p> - -<p class="noi adauthor smcap">Grosset & Dunlap, 526 West 26th St., New York</p> - - - - -<hr class="chap" /> -<p class="noi adtitle">STORIES OF WESTERN LIFE</p> - -<p class="noi works">May be had wherever books are sold. Ask for Grosset & Dunlap’s list.</p> - - -<p class="p2 noi">RIDERS OF THE PURPLE SAGE. By Zane Grey.</p> - -<p class="noi">Illustrated by Douglas Duer.</p> - -<p>In this picturesque romance of Utah of some forty years ago, we -are permitted to see the unscrupulous methods employed by the invisible -hand of the Mormon Church to break the will of those refusing -to conform to its rule.</p> - - -<p class="p2 noi">FRIAR TUCK. By Robert Alexander Wason.</p> - -<p class="noi">Illustrated by Stanley L. Wood.</p> - -<p>Happy Hawkins tells us, in his humorous way, how Friar Tuck -lived among the Cowboys, how he adjusted their quarrels and love -affairs and how he fought with them and for them when occasion -required.</p> - - -<p class="p2 noi">THE SKY PILOT. By Ralph Connor.</p> - -<p class="noi">Illustrated by Louis Rhead.</p> - -<p>There is no novel, dealing with the rough existence of cowboys, -so charming in the telling, abounding as it does with the freshest and -the truest pathos.</p> - - -<p class="p2 noi">THE EMIGRANT TRAIL. By Geraldine Bonner.</p> - -<p class="noi">Colored frontispiece by John Rae.</p> - -<p>The book relates the adventures of a party on its overland pilgrimage, -and the birth and growth of the absorbing love of two strong -men for a charming heroine.</p> - - -<p class="p2 noi">THE BOSS OF WIND RIVER. By A. M. Chisholm.</p> - -<p class="noi">Illustrated by Frank Tenney Johnson.</p> - -<p>This is a strong, virile novel with the lumber industry for its central -theme and a love story full of interest as a sort of subplot.</p> - - -<p class="p2 noi">A PRAIRIE COURTSHIP. By Harold Bindloss.</p> - -<p>A story of Canadian prairies in which the hero is stirred, through -the influence of his love for a woman, to settle down to the heroic -business of pioneer farming.</p> - - -<p class="p2 noi">JOYCE OF THE NORTH WOODS. By Harriet T. Comstock.</p> - -<p class="noi">Illustrated by John Cassel.</p> - -<p>A story of the deep woods that shows the power of love at work -among its primitive dwellers. It is a tensely moving study of the -human heart and its aspirations that unfolds itself through thrilling -situations and dramatic developments.</p> - - -<p class="p2 noic"><i>Ask for a complete free list of G. & D. Popular Copyrighted Fiction.</i></p> - -<p class="noi adauthor smcap">Grosset & Dunlap, 526 West 26th St., New York</p> - - - - -<hr class="chap" /> -<p class="noi adtitle">AMELIA E. BARR’S STORIES</p> - -<p class="noic">DELIGHTFUL TALES OF OLD NEW YORK</p> - -<p class="noi works">May be had wherever books are sold. Ask for Grosset and Dunlap’s list.</p> - - -<p class="p2 noi">THE BOW OF ORANGE RIBBON.</p> - -<p class="noi">With Frontispiece.</p> - -<p>This exquisite little romance opens in New York City in “the tender -grace” of a May day long past, when the old Dutch families -clustered around Bowling Green. It is the beginning of the romance -of Katherine, a young Dutch girl who has sent, as a love token, to a -young English officer, the bow of orange ribbon which she has worn -for years as a sacred emblem on the day of St. Nicholas. After the -bow of ribbon Katherine’s heart soon flies. Unlike her sister, whose -heart has found a safe resting place among her own people, Katherine’s -heart must rove from home—must know to the utmost all that life -holds of both joy and sorrow. And so she goes beyond the seas, leaving -her parents as desolate as were Isaac and Rebecca of old.</p> - - -<p class="p2 noi">THE MAID OF MAIDEN LANE; A Love Story.</p> - -<p class="noi">With Illustrations by S. M. Arthur.</p> - -<p>A sequel to “The Bow of Orange Ribbon.” The time is the -gracious days of Seventeen-hundred and ninety-one, when “The -Marseillaise” was sung with the American national airs, and the -spirit affected commerce, politics and conversation. In the midst of -this period the romance of “The Sweetest Maid in Maiden Lane” unfolds. -Its chief charm lies in its historic and local color.</p> - - -<p class="p2 noi">SHEILA VEDDER.</p> - -<p class="noi">Frontispiece in colors by Harrison Fisher.</p> - -<p>A love story set in the Shetland Islands.</p> - -<p>Among the simple, homely folk who dwelt there Jan Vedder was -raised; and to this island came lovely Sheila Jarrow. Jan knew, when -first he beheld her, that she was the one woman in all the world for -him, and to the winning of her love he set himself. The long days of -summer by the sea, the nights under the marvelously soft radiance of -Shetland moonlight passed in love-making, while with wonderment -the man and woman, alien in traditions, adjusted themselves to each -other. And the day came when Jan and Sheila wed, and then a -sweeter love story is told.</p> - - -<p class="p2 noi">TRINITY BELLS.</p> - -<p class="noi">With eight Illustrations by C. M. Relyea.</p> - -<p>The story centers around the life of little Katryntje Van Clyffe, -who, on her return home from a fashionable boarding school, faces -poverty and heartache. Stout of heart, she does not permit herself -to become discouraged even at the news of the loss of her father and -his ship “The Golden Victory.” The story of Katryntje’s life was -interwoven with the music of the Trinity Bells which eventually -heralded her wedding day.</p> - - -<p class="p2 noic"><i>Ask for a complete free list of G. & D. Popular Copyrighted Fiction.</i></p> - -<p class="noi adauthor smcap">Grosset & Dunlap, 526 West 26th St., New York</p> - - - - -<hr class="chap" /> -<p class="noi adtitle">CHARMING BOOKS FOR GIRLS</p> - -<p class="noi works">May be had wherever books are sold. Ask for Grosset & Dunlap’s list.</p> - - -<p class="p2 noi">WHEN PATTY WENT TO COLLEGE. By Jean Webster.</p> - -<p class="noi">Illustrated by C. D. Williams.</p> - -<p>One of the best stories of life in a girl’s college that has ever been -written. It is bright, whimsical and entertaining, lifelike, laughable -and thoroughly human.</p> - - -<p class="p2 noi">JUST PATTY. By Jean Webster.</p> - -<p class="noi">Illustrated by C. M. Relyea.</p> - -<p>Patty is full of the joy of living, fun-loving, given to ingenious -mischief for its own sake, with a disregard for pretty convention which -is an unfailing source of joy to her fellows.</p> - - -<p class="p2 noi">THE POOR LITTLE RICH GIRL. By Eleanor Gates.</p> - -<p class="noi">With four full page illustrations.</p> - -<p>This story relates the experience of one of those unfortunate children -whose early days are passed in the companionship of a governess, -seldom seeing either parent, and famishing for natural love and tenderness. -A charming play as dramatized by the author.</p> - - -<p class="p2 noi">REBECCA OF SUNNYBROOK FARM. By Kate Douglas -Wiggin.</p> - -<p>One of the most beautiful studies of childhood—Rebecca’s artistic, -unusual and quaintly charming qualities stand out midst a circle of -austere New Englanders. The stage version is making a phenomenal -dramatic record.</p> - - -<p class="p2 noi">NEW CHRONICLES OF REBECCA. By Kate Douglas Wiggin.</p> - -<p class="noi">Illustrated by F. C. Yohn.</p> - -<p>Additional episodes in the girlhood of this delightful heroine that -carry Rebecca through various stages to her eighteenth birthday.</p> - - -<p class="p2 noi">REBECCA MARY. By Annie Hamilton Donnell.</p> - -<p class="noi">Illustrated by Elizabeth Shippen Green.</p> - -<p>This author possesses the rare gift of portraying all the grotesque -little joys and sorrows and scruples of this very small girl with a pathos -that is peculiarly genuine and appealing.</p> - - -<p class="p2 noi">EMMY LOU: Her Book and Heart. By George Madden Martin.</p> - -<p class="noi">Illustrated by Charles Louis Hinton.</p> - -<p>Emmy Lou is irresistibly lovable, because she is so absolutely real. -She is just a bewitchingly innocent, hugable little maid. The book is -wonderfully human.</p> - - -<p class="p2 noic"><i>Ask for a complete free list of G. & D. Popular Copyrighted Fiction.</i></p> - -<p class="noi adauthor smcap">Grosset & Dunlap, 526 West 26th St., New York</p> - - - - -<hr class="chap" /> -<p class="noi adauthor">GROSSET & DUNLAP’S</p> - -<p class="noi adtitle">DRAMATIZED NOVELS</p> - -<p class="noic">Original, sincere and courageous—often amusing—the -kind that are making theatrical history.</p> - - -<p class="p2 noi">MADAME X. By Alexandre Bisson and J. W. McConaughy.</p> - -<p class="noi">Illustrated with scenes from the play.</p> - -<p>A beautiful Parisienne became an outcast because her husband -would not forgive an error of her youth. Her love for -her son is the great final influence in her career. A tremendous -dramatic success.</p> - - -<p class="p2 noi">THE GARDEN OF ALLAH. By Robert Hichens.</p> - -<p>An unconventional English woman and an inscrutable -stranger meet and love in an oasis of the Sahara. Staged -this season with magnificent cast and gorgeous properties.</p> - - -<p class="p2 noi">THE PRINCE OF INDIA. By Lew. Wallace.</p> - -<p>A glowing romance of the Byzantine Empire, presenting -with extraordinary power the siege of Constantinople, and -lighting its tragedy with the warm underglow of an Oriental -romance. As a play it is a great dramatic spectacle.</p> - - -<p class="p2 noi">TESS OF THE STORM COUNTRY. By Grace -Miller White.</p> - -<p class="noi">Illust. by Howard Chandler Christy.</p> - -<p>A girl from the dregs of society, loves a young Cornell University -student, and it works startling changes in her life and -the lives of those about her. The dramatic version is one of -the sensations of the season.</p> - - -<p class="p2 noi">YOUNG WALLINGFORD. By George Randolph -Chester.</p> - -<p class="noi">Illust. by F. R. Gruger and Henry Raleigh.</p> - -<p>A series of clever swindles conducted by a cheerful young -man, each of which is just on the safe side of a State’s prison -offence. As “Get-Rich-Quick Wallingford,” it is probably -the most amusing expose of money manipulation ever seen -on the stage.</p> - - -<p class="p2 noi">THE INTRUSION OF JIMMY. By P. G. Wodehouse.</p> - -<p class="noi">Illustrations by Will Grefe.</p> - -<p>Social and club life in London and New York, an amateur -burglary adventure and a love story. Dramatized under the -title of “A Gentleman of Leisure,” it furnishes hours of -laughter to the play-goers.</p> - - -<p class="noi adauthor smcap">Grosset & Dunlap, 526 West 26th St., New York</p> - - - - -<hr class="chap" /> -<p class="noi adauthor">GROSSET & DUNLAP’S</p> - -<p class="noi adtitle">DRAMATIZED NOVELS</p> - -<p class="noic">THE KIND THAT ARE MAKING THEATRICAL HISTORY</p> - -<p class="noi works">May be had wherever books are sold. Ask for Grosset & Dunlap’s list.</p> - - -<p class="p2 noi">WITHIN THE LAW. By Bayard Veiller & Marvin Dana.</p> - -<p class="noi">Illustrated by Wm. Charles Cooke.</p> - -<p>This is a novelization of the immensely successful play which ran -for two years in New York and Chicago.</p> - -<p>The plot of this powerful novel is of a young woman’s revenge -directed against her employer who allowed her to be sent to prison -for three years on a charge of theft, of which she was innocent.</p> - - -<p class="p2 noi">WHAT HAPPENED TO MARY. By Robert Carlton Brown.</p> - -<p class="noi">Illustrated with scenes from the play.</p> - -<p>This is a narrative of a young and innocent country girl who is -suddenly thrown into the very heart of New York, “the land of her -dreams,” where she is exposed to all sorts of temptations and dangers.</p> - -<p>The story of Mary is being told in moving pictures and played in -theatres all over the world.</p> - - -<p class="p2 noi">THE RETURN OF PETER GRIMM. By David Belasco.</p> - -<p class="noi">Illustrated by John Rae.</p> - -<p>This is a novelization of the popular play in which David Warfield, -as Old Peter Grimm, scored such a remarkable success.</p> - -<p>The story is spectacular and extremely pathetic but withal, -powerful, both as a book and as a play.</p> - - -<p class="p2 noi">THE GARDEN OF ALLAH. By Robert Hichens.</p> - -<p>This novel is an intense, glowing epic of the great desert, sunlit -barbaric, with its marvelous atmosphere of vastness and loneliness.</p> - -<p>It is a book of rapturous beauty, vivid in word painting. The play -has been staged with magnificent cast and gorgeous properties.</p> - - -<p class="p2 noi">BEN HUR. A Tale of the Christ. By General Lew Wallace.</p> - -<p>The whole world has placed this famous Religious-Historical Romance -on a height of pre-eminence which no other novel of its time -has reached. The clashing of rivalry and the deepest human passions, -the perfect reproduction of brilliant Roman life, and the tense, fierce -atmosphere of the arena have kept their deep fascination. A tremendous -dramatic success.</p> - - -<p class="p2 noi">BOUGHT AND PAID FOR. By George Broadhurst and Arthur -Hornblow.</p> - -<p class="noi">Illustrated with scenes from the play.</p> - -<p>A stupendous arraignment of modern marriage which has created -an interest on the stage that is almost unparalleled. The scenes are laid -in New York, and deal with conditions among both the rich and poor.</p> - -<p>The interest of the story turns on the day-by-day developments -which show the young wife the price she has paid.</p> - - -<p class="p2 noic"><i>Ask for a complete free list of G. & D. Popular Copyrighted Fiction.</i></p> - -<p class="noi adauthor smcap">Grosset & Dunlap, 526 West 26th St., New York</p> - - - - -<hr class="chap" /> -<p class="noi adauthor">THE NOVELS OF</p> - -<p class="noi adtitle">CLARA LOUISE BURNHAM</p> - -<p class="noi works">May be had wherever books are sold. Ask for Grosset and Dunlap’s list.</p> - - -<p class="p2 noi">JEWEL: A Chapter in Her Life.</p> - -<p class="noi">Illustrated by Maude and Genevieve Cowles.</p> - -<p>A sweet, dainty story, breathing the doctrine of love and patience -and sweet nature and cheerfulness.</p> - - -<p class="p2 noi">JEWEL’S STORY BOOK.</p> - -<p class="noi">Illustrated by Albert Schmitt.</p> - -<p>A sequel to “Jewel” and equally enjoyable.</p> - - -<p class="p2 noi">CLEVER BETSY.</p> - -<p class="noi">Illustrated by Rose O’Neill.</p> - -<p>The “Clever Betsy” was a boat—named for the unyielding spinster -whom the captain hoped to marry. Through the two Betsys a -clever group of people are introduced to the reader.</p> - - -<p class="p2 noi">SWEET CLOVER: A Romance of the White City.</p> - -<p>A story of Chicago at the time of the World’s Fair. A sweet human -story that touches the heart.</p> - - -<p class="p2 noi">THE OPENED SHUTTERS.</p> - -<p class="noi">Frontispiece by Harrison Fisher.</p> - -<p>A summer haunt on an island in Casco Bay is the background -for this romance. A beautiful woman, at discord with life, is brought -to realize, by her new friends, that she may open the shutters of her -soul to the blessed sunlight of joy by casting aside vanity and self -love. A delicately humorous work with a lofty motive underlying it all.</p> - - -<p class="p2 noi">THE RIGHT PRINCESS.</p> - -<p>An amusing story, opening at a fashionable Long Island resort, -where a stately Englishwoman employs a forcible New England -housekeeper to serve in her interesting home. How types so widely -apart react on each other’s lives, all to ultimate good, makes a story -both humorous and rich in sentiment.</p> - - -<p class="p2 noi">THE LEAVEN OF LOVE.</p> - -<p class="noi">Frontispiece by Harrison Fisher.</p> - -<p>At a Southern California resort a world-weary woman, young and -beautiful but disillusioned, meets a girl who has learned the art of -living—of tasting life in all its richness, opulence and joy. The story -hinges upon the change wrought in the soul of the blasè woman by -this glimpse into a cheery life.</p> - - -<p class="p2 noic"><i>Ask for a complete free list of G. & D. Popular Copyrighted Fiction.</i></p> - -<p class="noi adauthor smcap">Grosset & Dunlap, 526 West 26th St., New York</p> - - - - -<hr class="chap" /> -<div class="tnote"> -<p class="noi tntitle">Transcriber’s Notes:</p> - -<p class="smfont">A List of Illustrations has been provided for the convenience of - the reader.</p> - -<p class="smfont">Punctuation and spelling inaccuracies were silently corrected.</p> - -<p class="smfont">Archaic and variable spelling has been preserved.</p> - -<p class="smfont">Variations in hyphenation and compound words have been preserved.</p> -</div> - - - - - - - - -<pre> - - - - - -End of the Project Gutenberg EBook of The Silent Battle, by George Gibbs - -*** END OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK THE SILENT BATTLE *** - -***** This file should be named 54544-h.htm or 54544-h.zip ***** -This and all associated files of various formats will be found in: - http://www.gutenberg.org/5/4/5/4/54544/ - -Produced by Donald Cummings and the Online Distributed -Proofreading Team at http://www.pgdp.net (This file was -produced from images generously made available by The -Internet Archive/American Libraries.) - -Updated editions will replace the previous one--the old editions will -be renamed. - -Creating the works from print editions not protected by U.S. copyright -law means that no one owns a United States copyright in these works, -so the Foundation (and you!) can copy and distribute it in the United -States without permission and without paying copyright -royalties. Special rules, set forth in the General Terms of Use part -of this license, apply to copying and distributing Project -Gutenberg-tm electronic works to protect the PROJECT GUTENBERG-tm -concept and trademark. Project Gutenberg is a registered trademark, -and may not be used if you charge for the eBooks, unless you receive -specific permission. If you do not charge anything for copies of this -eBook, complying with the rules is very easy. You may use this eBook -for nearly any purpose such as creation of derivative works, reports, -performances and research. They may be modified and printed and given -away--you may do practically ANYTHING in the United States with eBooks -not protected by U.S. copyright law. Redistribution is subject to the -trademark license, especially commercial redistribution. - -START: FULL LICENSE - -THE FULL PROJECT GUTENBERG LICENSE -PLEASE READ THIS BEFORE YOU DISTRIBUTE OR USE THIS WORK - -To protect the Project Gutenberg-tm mission of promoting the free -distribution of electronic works, by using or distributing this work -(or any other work associated in any way with the phrase "Project -Gutenberg"), you agree to comply with all the terms of the Full -Project Gutenberg-tm License available with this file or online at -www.gutenberg.org/license. - -Section 1. General Terms of Use and Redistributing Project -Gutenberg-tm electronic works - -1.A. By reading or using any part of this Project Gutenberg-tm -electronic work, you indicate that you have read, understand, agree to -and accept all the terms of this license and intellectual property -(trademark/copyright) agreement. If you do not agree to abide by all -the terms of this agreement, you must cease using and return or -destroy all copies of Project Gutenberg-tm electronic works in your -possession. If you paid a fee for obtaining a copy of or access to a -Project Gutenberg-tm electronic work and you do not agree to be bound -by the terms of this agreement, you may obtain a refund from the -person or entity to whom you paid the fee as set forth in paragraph -1.E.8. - -1.B. "Project Gutenberg" is a registered trademark. It may only be -used on or associated in any way with an electronic work by people who -agree to be bound by the terms of this agreement. There are a few -things that you can do with most Project Gutenberg-tm electronic works -even without complying with the full terms of this agreement. See -paragraph 1.C below. There are a lot of things you can do with Project -Gutenberg-tm electronic works if you follow the terms of this -agreement and help preserve free future access to Project Gutenberg-tm -electronic works. See paragraph 1.E below. - -1.C. The Project Gutenberg Literary Archive Foundation ("the -Foundation" or PGLAF), owns a compilation copyright in the collection -of Project Gutenberg-tm electronic works. Nearly all the individual -works in the collection are in the public domain in the United -States. If an individual work is unprotected by copyright law in the -United States and you are located in the United States, we do not -claim a right to prevent you from copying, distributing, performing, -displaying or creating derivative works based on the work as long as -all references to Project Gutenberg are removed. Of course, we hope -that you will support the Project Gutenberg-tm mission of promoting -free access to electronic works by freely sharing Project Gutenberg-tm -works in compliance with the terms of this agreement for keeping the -Project Gutenberg-tm name associated with the work. You can easily -comply with the terms of this agreement by keeping this work in the -same format with its attached full Project Gutenberg-tm License when -you share it without charge with others. - -1.D. The copyright laws of the place where you are located also govern -what you can do with this work. Copyright laws in most countries are -in a constant state of change. If you are outside the United States, -check the laws of your country in addition to the terms of this -agreement before downloading, copying, displaying, performing, -distributing or creating derivative works based on this work or any -other Project Gutenberg-tm work. The Foundation makes no -representations concerning the copyright status of any work in any -country outside the United States. - -1.E. Unless you have removed all references to Project Gutenberg: - -1.E.1. The following sentence, with active links to, or other -immediate access to, the full Project Gutenberg-tm License must appear -prominently whenever any copy of a Project Gutenberg-tm work (any work -on which the phrase "Project Gutenberg" appears, or with which the -phrase "Project Gutenberg" is associated) is accessed, displayed, -performed, viewed, copied or distributed: - - 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. - -1.E.2. If an individual Project Gutenberg-tm electronic work is -derived from texts not protected by U.S. copyright law (does not -contain a notice indicating that it is posted with permission of the -copyright holder), the work can be copied and distributed to anyone in -the United States without paying any fees or charges. If you are -redistributing or providing access to a work with the phrase "Project -Gutenberg" associated with or appearing on the work, you must comply -either with the requirements of paragraphs 1.E.1 through 1.E.7 or -obtain permission for the use of the work and the Project Gutenberg-tm -trademark as set forth in paragraphs 1.E.8 or 1.E.9. - -1.E.3. If an individual Project Gutenberg-tm electronic work is posted -with the permission of the copyright holder, your use and distribution -must comply with both paragraphs 1.E.1 through 1.E.7 and any -additional terms imposed by the copyright holder. Additional terms -will be linked to the Project Gutenberg-tm License for all works -posted with the permission of the copyright holder found at the -beginning of this work. - -1.E.4. Do not unlink or detach or remove the full Project Gutenberg-tm -License terms from this work, or any files containing a part of this -work or any other work associated with Project Gutenberg-tm. - -1.E.5. Do not copy, display, perform, distribute or redistribute this -electronic work, or any part of this electronic work, without -prominently displaying the sentence set forth in paragraph 1.E.1 with -active links or immediate access to the full terms of the Project -Gutenberg-tm License. - -1.E.6. You may convert to and distribute this work in any binary, -compressed, marked up, nonproprietary or proprietary form, including -any word processing or hypertext form. However, if you provide access -to or distribute copies of a Project Gutenberg-tm work in a format -other than "Plain Vanilla ASCII" or other format used in the official -version posted on the official Project Gutenberg-tm web site -(www.gutenberg.org), you must, at no additional cost, fee or expense -to the user, provide a copy, a means of exporting a copy, or a means -of obtaining a copy upon request, of the work in its original "Plain -Vanilla ASCII" or other form. Any alternate format must include the -full Project Gutenberg-tm License as specified in paragraph 1.E.1. - -1.E.7. Do not charge a fee for access to, viewing, displaying, -performing, copying or distributing any Project Gutenberg-tm works -unless you comply with paragraph 1.E.8 or 1.E.9. - -1.E.8. You may charge a reasonable fee for copies of or providing -access to or distributing Project Gutenberg-tm electronic works -provided that - -* You pay a royalty fee of 20% of the gross profits you derive from - the use of Project Gutenberg-tm works calculated using the method - you already use to calculate your applicable taxes. The fee is owed - to the owner of the Project Gutenberg-tm trademark, but he has - agreed to donate royalties under this paragraph to the Project - Gutenberg Literary Archive Foundation. Royalty payments must be paid - within 60 days following each date on which you prepare (or are - legally required to prepare) your periodic tax returns. Royalty - payments should be clearly marked as such and sent to the Project - Gutenberg Literary Archive Foundation at the address specified in - Section 4, "Information about donations to the Project Gutenberg - Literary Archive Foundation." - -* You provide a full refund of any money paid by a user who notifies - you in writing (or by e-mail) within 30 days of receipt that s/he - does not agree to the terms of the full Project Gutenberg-tm - License. You must require such a user to return or destroy all - copies of the works possessed in a physical medium and discontinue - all use of and all access to other copies of Project Gutenberg-tm - works. - -* You provide, in accordance with paragraph 1.F.3, a full refund of - any money paid for a work or a replacement copy, if a defect in the - electronic work is discovered and reported to you within 90 days of - receipt of the work. - -* You comply with all other terms of this agreement for free - distribution of Project Gutenberg-tm works. - -1.E.9. If you wish to charge a fee or distribute a Project -Gutenberg-tm electronic work or group of works on different terms than -are set forth in this agreement, you must obtain permission in writing -from both the Project Gutenberg Literary Archive Foundation and The -Project Gutenberg Trademark LLC, the owner of the Project Gutenberg-tm -trademark. Contact the Foundation as set forth in Section 3 below. - -1.F. - -1.F.1. Project Gutenberg volunteers and employees expend considerable -effort to identify, do copyright research on, transcribe and proofread -works not protected by U.S. copyright law in creating the Project -Gutenberg-tm collection. Despite these efforts, Project Gutenberg-tm -electronic works, and the medium on which they may be stored, may -contain "Defects," such as, but not limited to, incomplete, inaccurate -or corrupt data, transcription errors, a copyright or other -intellectual property infringement, a defective or damaged disk or -other medium, a computer virus, or computer codes that damage or -cannot be read by your equipment. - -1.F.2. LIMITED WARRANTY, DISCLAIMER OF DAMAGES - Except for the "Right -of Replacement or Refund" described in paragraph 1.F.3, the Project -Gutenberg Literary Archive Foundation, the owner of the Project -Gutenberg-tm trademark, and any other party distributing a Project -Gutenberg-tm electronic work under this agreement, disclaim all -liability to you for damages, costs and expenses, including legal -fees. YOU AGREE THAT YOU HAVE NO REMEDIES FOR NEGLIGENCE, STRICT -LIABILITY, BREACH OF WARRANTY OR BREACH OF CONTRACT EXCEPT THOSE -PROVIDED IN PARAGRAPH 1.F.3. YOU AGREE THAT THE FOUNDATION, THE -TRADEMARK OWNER, AND ANY DISTRIBUTOR UNDER THIS AGREEMENT WILL NOT BE -LIABLE TO YOU FOR ACTUAL, DIRECT, INDIRECT, CONSEQUENTIAL, PUNITIVE OR -INCIDENTAL DAMAGES EVEN IF YOU GIVE NOTICE OF THE POSSIBILITY OF SUCH -DAMAGE. - -1.F.3. LIMITED RIGHT OF REPLACEMENT OR REFUND - If you discover a -defect in this electronic work within 90 days of receiving it, you can -receive a refund of the money (if any) you paid for it by sending a -written explanation to the person you received the work from. If you -received the work on a physical medium, you must return the medium -with your written explanation. The person or entity that provided you -with the defective work may elect to provide a replacement copy in -lieu of a refund. If you received the work electronically, the person -or entity providing it to you may choose to give you a second -opportunity to receive the work electronically in lieu of a refund. If -the second copy is also defective, you may demand a refund in writing -without further opportunities to fix the problem. - -1.F.4. Except for the limited right of replacement or refund set forth -in paragraph 1.F.3, this work is provided to you 'AS-IS', WITH NO -OTHER WARRANTIES OF ANY KIND, EXPRESS OR IMPLIED, INCLUDING BUT NOT -LIMITED TO WARRANTIES OF MERCHANTABILITY OR FITNESS FOR ANY PURPOSE. - -1.F.5. Some states do not allow disclaimers of certain implied -warranties or the exclusion or limitation of certain types of -damages. If any disclaimer or limitation set forth in this agreement -violates the law of the state applicable to this agreement, the -agreement shall be interpreted to make the maximum disclaimer or -limitation permitted by the applicable state law. The invalidity or -unenforceability of any provision of this agreement shall not void the -remaining provisions. - -1.F.6. INDEMNITY - You agree to indemnify and hold the Foundation, the -trademark owner, any agent or employee of the Foundation, anyone -providing copies of Project Gutenberg-tm electronic works in -accordance with this agreement, and any volunteers associated with the -production, promotion and distribution of Project Gutenberg-tm -electronic works, harmless from all liability, costs and expenses, -including legal fees, that arise directly or indirectly from any of -the following which you do or cause to occur: (a) distribution of this -or any Project Gutenberg-tm work, (b) alteration, modification, or -additions or deletions to any Project Gutenberg-tm work, and (c) any -Defect you cause. - -Section 2. Information about the Mission of Project Gutenberg-tm - -Project Gutenberg-tm is synonymous with the free distribution of -electronic works in formats readable by the widest variety of -computers including obsolete, old, middle-aged and new computers. It -exists because of the efforts of hundreds of volunteers and donations -from people in all walks of life. - -Volunteers and financial support to provide volunteers with the -assistance they need are critical to reaching Project Gutenberg-tm's -goals and ensuring that the Project Gutenberg-tm collection will -remain freely available for generations to come. In 2001, the Project -Gutenberg Literary Archive Foundation was created to provide a secure -and permanent future for Project Gutenberg-tm and future -generations. To learn more about the Project Gutenberg Literary -Archive Foundation and how your efforts and donations can help, see -Sections 3 and 4 and the Foundation information page at -www.gutenberg.org - - - -Section 3. Information about the Project Gutenberg Literary Archive Foundation - -The Project Gutenberg Literary Archive Foundation is a non profit -501(c)(3) educational corporation organized under the laws of the -state of Mississippi and granted tax exempt status by the Internal -Revenue Service. The Foundation's EIN or federal tax identification -number is 64-6221541. Contributions to the Project Gutenberg Literary -Archive Foundation are tax deductible to the full extent permitted by -U.S. federal laws and your state's laws. - -The Foundation's principal office is in Fairbanks, Alaska, with the -mailing address: PO Box 750175, Fairbanks, AK 99775, but its -volunteers and employees are scattered throughout numerous -locations. Its business office is located at 809 North 1500 West, Salt -Lake City, UT 84116, (801) 596-1887. Email contact links and up to -date contact information can be found at the Foundation's web site and -official page at www.gutenberg.org/contact - -For additional contact information: - - Dr. Gregory B. Newby - Chief Executive and Director - gbnewby@pglaf.org - -Section 4. Information about Donations to the Project Gutenberg -Literary Archive Foundation - -Project Gutenberg-tm depends upon and cannot survive without wide -spread public support and donations to carry out its mission of -increasing the number of public domain and licensed works that can be -freely distributed in machine readable form accessible by the widest -array of equipment including outdated equipment. Many small donations -($1 to $5,000) are particularly important to maintaining tax exempt -status with the IRS. - -The Foundation is committed to complying with the laws regulating -charities and charitable donations in all 50 states of the United -States. Compliance requirements are not uniform and it takes a -considerable effort, much paperwork and many fees to meet and keep up -with these requirements. We do not solicit donations in locations -where we have not received written confirmation of compliance. To SEND -DONATIONS or determine the status of compliance for any particular -state visit www.gutenberg.org/donate - -While we cannot and do not solicit contributions from states where we -have not met the solicitation requirements, we know of no prohibition -against accepting unsolicited donations from donors in such states who -approach us with offers to donate. - -International donations are gratefully accepted, but we cannot make -any statements concerning tax treatment of donations received from -outside the United States. U.S. laws alone swamp our small staff. - -Please check the Project Gutenberg Web pages for current donation -methods and addresses. Donations are accepted in a number of other -ways including checks, online payments and credit card donations. To -donate, please visit: www.gutenberg.org/donate - -Section 5. General Information About Project Gutenberg-tm electronic works. - -Professor Michael S. Hart was the originator of the Project -Gutenberg-tm concept of a library of electronic works that could be -freely shared with anyone. For forty years, he produced and -distributed Project Gutenberg-tm eBooks with only a loose network of -volunteer support. - -Project Gutenberg-tm eBooks are often created from several printed -editions, all of which are confirmed as not protected by copyright in -the U.S. unless a copyright notice is included. Thus, we do not -necessarily keep eBooks in compliance with any particular paper -edition. - -Most people start at our Web site which has the main PG search -facility: www.gutenberg.org - -This Web site includes information about Project Gutenberg-tm, -including how to make donations to the Project Gutenberg Literary -Archive Foundation, how to help produce our new eBooks, and how to -subscribe to our email newsletter to hear about new eBooks. - - - -</pre> - -</body> -</html> diff --git a/old/54544-h/images/cover.jpg b/old/54544-h/images/cover.jpg Binary files differdeleted file mode 100644 index 480cf9e..0000000 --- a/old/54544-h/images/cover.jpg +++ /dev/null diff --git a/old/54544-h/images/image01.jpg b/old/54544-h/images/image01.jpg Binary files differdeleted file mode 100644 index 6d9e7fe..0000000 --- a/old/54544-h/images/image01.jpg +++ /dev/null diff --git a/old/54544-h/images/image02.jpg b/old/54544-h/images/image02.jpg Binary files differdeleted file mode 100644 index fe7156f..0000000 --- a/old/54544-h/images/image02.jpg +++ /dev/null diff --git a/old/54544-h/images/image03.jpg b/old/54544-h/images/image03.jpg Binary files differdeleted file mode 100644 index 822a444..0000000 --- a/old/54544-h/images/image03.jpg +++ /dev/null diff --git a/old/54544-h/images/image04.jpg b/old/54544-h/images/image04.jpg Binary files differdeleted file mode 100644 index 9ce7f19..0000000 --- a/old/54544-h/images/image04.jpg +++ /dev/null diff --git a/old/54544-h/images/image05.jpg b/old/54544-h/images/image05.jpg Binary files differdeleted file mode 100644 index 184be03..0000000 --- a/old/54544-h/images/image05.jpg +++ /dev/null diff --git a/old/54544-h/images/image06.jpg b/old/54544-h/images/image06.jpg Binary files differdeleted file mode 100644 index 22da3fc..0000000 --- a/old/54544-h/images/image06.jpg +++ /dev/null diff --git a/old/54544-h/images/image07.jpg b/old/54544-h/images/image07.jpg Binary files differdeleted file mode 100644 index f5931e9..0000000 --- a/old/54544-h/images/image07.jpg +++ /dev/null diff --git a/old/54544-h/images/logo.jpg b/old/54544-h/images/logo.jpg Binary files differdeleted file mode 100644 index f5779dd..0000000 --- a/old/54544-h/images/logo.jpg +++ /dev/null |
