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+The Project Gutenberg EBook of A Romance of Billy-Goat Hill, by Alice Hegan Rice
+
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+Title: A Romance of Billy-Goat Hill
+
+Author: Alice Hegan Rice
+
+Release Date: October, 2004  [EBook #6635]
+[Yes, we are more than one year ahead of schedule]
+[This file was first posted on January 7, 2003]
+
+Edition: 10
+
+Language: English
+
+Character set encoding: ASCII
+
+*** START OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK, A ROMANCE OF BILLY-GOAT HILL ***
+
+
+
+
+Produced by Phil McLaury, Juliet Sutherland, Charles Franks and the Online
+Distributed Proofreading Team.
+
+
+
+
+
+[Illustration: "Do you believe in love, Doctor?"]
+
+A ROMANCE OF BILLY-GOAT HILL
+
+BY
+
+ALICE HEGAN RICE
+
+Author of
+Mrs. Wiggs of the Cabbage Patch
+Lovey Mary, Sandy, Etc.
+
+WITH ILLUSTRATIONS
+
+By GEORGE WEIGHT
+
+
+
+
+LIST OF ILLUSTRATIONS
+
+"Do you believe in love, Doctor?"
+
+The Colonel leaned back upon his knees and glared at Morley
+
+There was a sharp report, a smothered groan, then a heavy fall
+
+She held it to the flame, and watched it burn to ashes on the hearth
+
+Maria began to cry, and forgot to jolt the Boarder
+
+Mrs. Sequin paused with her hand on the banister
+
+"It was a great wrong I did you, Don; can you forgive me?"
+
+"Tell me quick! How do you know about the shooting?"
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER I
+
+
+It was springtime in Kentucky, gay, irresponsible, Southern
+springtime, that comes bursting impetuously through highways and
+byways, heedless of possible frosts and impossible fruitions. A
+glamour of tender new green enveloped the world, and the air was sweet
+with the odor of young and growing things. The brown river, streaked
+with green where the fresher currents of the creeks poured in, circled
+the base of a long hill that dominated the landscape from every
+direction.
+
+In spite of the fact that impertinent railroads were beginning to
+crawl about its feet, and the flotsam and jetsam of the adjacent city
+were gradually being deposited at its base, it nevertheless reared its
+granite shoulders proudly and defiantly against the sky.
+
+From the early days when the hill and rich surrounding farm lands had
+been granted to the old pioneer William Carsey, one generation of
+Carseys after another had lived in the stately old mansion that now
+stood like the last remaining fortress against the city's invasion.
+Sagging cornices and discolored walls had not dispelled the atmosphere
+of contentment that enveloped the place, an effect heightened by the
+wide front porch which ran straight across the face of it, like a
+broad, complacent smile. Some old houses, like old gallants, bear an
+unmistakable air of past prosperity, of past affairs. Romance has
+trailed her garments near them and the fragrance lingers.
+
+Thornwood, shabby and neglected, could still afford to drowse in the
+sunshine and smile over the past. It remembered the time when its
+hospitality was the boast of the countryside, when its stables held
+the best string of horses in the State; when its smokehouse, now
+groaning under a pile of lumber, sheltered shoulders of pork, and
+sides of bacon, and long lines of juicy, sugar-cured hams; when the
+cellar quartered battalions of cobwebby bottles that stood at
+attention on the low hanging shelves. It was a house ripe with
+experience and mellow with memories, a wise, old, sophisticated house,
+that had had its day, and enjoyed it, and now, through with ambitions,
+and through with striving, had settled down to a peaceful old age.
+
+On this particular Sunday afternoon Colonel Bob Carsey, the third of
+his name, sat on the porch in a weather-beaten mahogany rocker, making
+himself a mint julep. He was a stout, elderly gentleman, and, like the
+rocking chair, was weather-beaten, and of a slightly mahogany hue. His
+features, having long ago given up the struggle against encroaching
+flesh, were now merely slight indentures, and mild protuberances, with
+the exception of the eyes which still blazed away defiantly, like
+twinkling lights at the end of a passage. Across his feet with nose on
+paws lay a dog, and about him was scattered a profusion of fishing
+paraphernalia.
+
+The Colonel, carefully crushing the mint between his stubby fingers,
+stirred it with the sugar at the bottom of his tall glass; then,
+resting the concoction on the broad arm of the rocker, and without
+turning his head, lifted his voice in stentorian command:
+
+"Jimpson!"
+
+No answer. He turned his head slightly to the left, in the general
+direction of the negro cabins whose roofs could be seen through the
+trees, and sent another summons hurtling through the bushes:
+
+"Jimpson!"
+
+Again he waited, and again there was no response. The Colonel sighed
+resignedly, and spreading a large bordered handkerchief over his
+obliterated features, clasped his fat hands with some difficulty about
+his ample girth, and slept. When he awoke he began exactly where he
+had left off, only this time turning his head slightly to the right,
+and sending his command toward the kitchen wing.
+
+A door slammed somewhere in the distance, and presently a shuffling of
+feet was heard in the hall, and a small, alert old negro presented
+himself to his master with an air of cheerful conciliation.
+
+The Colonel did not turn his head; he gazed with an air of great
+injury at the tops of the locust trees, clasping his tumbler as it
+rested on the arm of the rocker.
+
+"Jimpson," he began, after the culprit had suffered his silence some
+minutes.
+
+"Now, Cunnel," began Jimpson nervously. He had evidently rehearsed
+this scene in the past.
+
+"Just answer my questions," insisted the Colonel. "_Is_ this my
+house?"
+
+"Yas, sir, but Carline, she--"
+
+"And are you my nigger?" persisted the Colonel plaintively.
+
+"Yas, sir; but you see, Carline--"
+
+"And haven't I, for twenty years," persisted the Colonel, "been taking
+a mint julep at half past two on Sunday afternoons?"
+
+"Yas, sir, I was a comin'--"
+
+"Then you don't regard it as an unreasonable request, that a gentleman
+should ask his own nigger, in his own house, to bring him a small
+piece of ice?" The Colonel's sense of injury was becoming so
+overpowering that the offender might have been crushed by contrition
+had not a laugh made them both look up.
+
+Standing in the doorway was a young girl in a short riding habit, and
+a small hat of red felt that was carelessly pinned to her bright,
+tumbled hair. Her eyes were dark, and round like those of a child, and
+they danced from object to object as if eager to miss none of the good
+things that the world had to offer. Joy of life and radiant youth
+seemed to flash from her face and figure.
+
+"What's the matter, Squire Daddy?" she asked, pausing on the
+threshold. "Mad again?" The Colonel's head twitched in her direction,
+but he held it stiff.
+
+"Well, please don't kill Uncle Jimpson 'til he finds my gloves. I
+don't know where I took them off."
+
+"Yas 'm, Miss Lady," Jimpson welcomed the diversion. "I'll find 'em
+jes as soon as I git yer Paw his ice."
+
+"Oh, Daddy'll wait, won't you, Dad? I'm in a hurry."
+
+For a moment Jimpson and the Colonel eyed each other, then the
+Colonel's gaze shifted.
+
+"I'll git de ice fer you on my way back," Jimpson whispered
+reassuringly. "I spec' dat chile _is_ in a hurry."
+
+The young lady in question gave no appearance of haste as she perched
+herself on the arm of her father's chair, and presented a boot-lace
+for him to tie.
+
+"Going fishing, Dad?" she asked.
+
+"Yes," said the Colonel, struggling to make a two-loop bow-knot. "Noah
+Wicker and I are going down below the mill dam. Want to come along?"
+
+"I can't. I'm going riding."
+
+"That's good. Who with?"
+
+"With Don Morley."
+
+The smile that had returned to the Colonel's face during this
+conversation contracted suddenly, leaving his mouth a round little
+button of disapprobation.
+
+"What in thunder is he doing up here anyhow; why don't he go on back
+to town where he belongs?"
+
+"Don?" Miss Lady pretended to effect a part in the few straggling
+hairs that adorned his forehead. "Why, he's staying over to the
+Wickers' while he looks around for a farm. Here's a gray hair, Daddy!
+I'd pull it out only there are two more on that other side now than
+there are on this."
+
+"Buying a farm, is he?" The Colonel waxed a deeper mahogany. "Well,
+this place is not for sale. I should think he could find something
+better to do with his time than hanging around here. For two weeks I
+haven't been able to sit on this porch for five minutes without having
+him under my feet! What's the sense of his coming so often?"
+
+Miss Lady caught him by the ears, and turned his irate face up to her
+own.
+
+"He comes to see me!" she announced, emphasizing each word with a nod.
+"He likes horses and dogs and me, and I like horses and dogs and him.
+But I like you, too, Daddy."
+
+The Colonel refused to be beguiled by such blandishments.
+
+"I'll speak to him when he comes. He needn't think just because he is
+a city fellow, he can take a daughter of mine racing all over the
+country on Sunday afternoon!"
+
+"Why, Dad, that's absurd! Don't you take me yourself almost every
+Sunday? And don't I go with Noah, and the Brooks boys whenever I
+like?"
+
+"Well, you can't go to-day."
+
+"But this is Donald's last day. He goes back to town to-night, and he
+may go abroad next week to stay ever and ever so long."
+
+The Colonel brought his fist down on his knees: "I don't care a hang
+where he goes. It's _you_ we are talking about. You've got to promise
+me not to go with him this afternoon."
+
+"But why?"
+
+"Because," the Colonel argued feebly, "because it's Sunday."
+
+Miss Lady sat for a moment looking straight before her and there was a
+contraction of her lips that might have passed for a comic imitation
+of her father's had it not softened into a smile.
+
+"Suppose I won't promise?" she said.
+
+The Colonel's free hand gripped the arm of the chair, and he looked as
+if he had every intention in the world of being firm.
+
+"You see, if it is wrong for me to go riding on Sunday," went on Miss
+Lady, "it's wrong for you to go fishing. Suppose we both reform and
+stay at home?"
+
+The Colonel's eyes involuntarily flew to his cherished tackle, lying
+ready for action on the top step, then they came back with a snap to
+the top of a locust tree.
+
+Miss Lady squeezed his arm and laughed: "Of course you don't want to
+stay at home this glorious afternoon, neither do I! Now, that's
+settled. Here comes Noah; I'll go and fix your lunch."
+
+It was not by any means the first time the daughter of the house of
+Carsey had scored in a contest with her father. His subjection had
+begun on that morning now nearly twenty years ago, when she had been
+placed in his arms, a motherless bundle of helplessness without even a
+personal name to begin life with.
+
+That question of a name had baffled him. He had consulted all the
+neighbors, considered all the possibilities in the back of the
+dictionary, and even had recourse to the tombstones in the old
+cemetery, but the haunting fear that in days to come she might not
+like his choice, held him back from a final decision. In the meanwhile
+she was "The Little Lady," then "Lady," and finally through the
+negroes it got to be "Miss Lady." So the Colonel weakly compromised in
+the matter by deciding to wait until she was old enough to name
+herself. When that time arrived she stubbornly refused to exchange her
+nickname for a real one. A halfhearted effort was made to harness her
+up to "Elizabeth," but she flatly declined to answer to the
+appellation.
+
+She and Noah Wicker, the son of a neighboring farmer, had run wild on
+the big place, and it was Miss Lady who invariably got to the top of
+the peach tree first, or dared to wade the farthest into the stream.
+All through the summer days her little bare legs raced beside Noah's
+sturdier brown ones. She could handle a fishing rod as well as her
+father, could ride and drive and shoot, and was on terms of easy
+friendship with every neighbor who passed over the brow of Billy-goat
+Hill.
+
+The matter of education had been the first serious break in this
+idyllic existence. After romping through the country school, she had
+had several young and pretty governesses, all of whom had succumbed to
+the charms of neighboring country swains, and abandoned their young
+charge, to start establishments of their own. Then came wise counsel
+from without and after many tears she was sent to a boarding school in
+the city.
+
+The older teachers at Miss Gibbs' Select School for Young Ladies still
+recall their trials during the one year Miss Lady was enrolled. She
+was pretty, yes, and clever, and lovable, oh, yes! And at this point
+usually followed a number of stories of her generosity and impulsive
+kindness; "but," the conclusion always ran, "such a strange, wild
+little creature, so intolerant of convention, in dress, in education,
+in religion. Quite impossible in a young ladies' seminary."
+
+After one term of imprisonment Miss Lady escaped to the outdoor world
+again, and implored her devoted "Dad" to let her grow up in ignorance,
+protesting passionately that she did not want puffs on her head, and
+heels on her shoes, and whalebones about her waist. That she didn't
+care whether X plus Y equaled Z, or not, and that going to church and
+saying the same thing a dozen times, drove all ideas of religion out
+of her head. She would study at home, she declared, anything,
+everything he suggested, if only she could do it, in her own way, out
+of doors.
+
+So the sorely puzzled Colonel had procured her the necessary text-
+books, and she had plunged into her original method of self-education.
+She usually fought out her mathematical battles down by the river,
+using a stick on the sand for her calculations; history she studied in
+the fork of an old elm, declaiming the most dramatic episodes aloud,
+to the edification of the sparrows.
+
+In the long winter months her favorite haunt was a little unused room
+over the front hall, traditionally known as the library. Its only
+possible excuse for the name was its one piece of furniture, a
+battered secretary containing a small collection of musty volumes that
+did credit to the taste of some long-departed Carsey.
+
+Miss Lady had discovered the library in her paper-doll days, and had
+ruthlessly clipped small bonneted ladies with flounced skirts from
+magazines that dated back to the first year of publication. Later she
+had discovered that some of the ladies had jokes on their backs, or
+rather pieces of jokes, the rest of which she hunted up in the old
+magazines. It was an easy step from the magazines to the books, and in
+time she knew them all, from the little dog-eared copy of Horace in
+the upper left-hand corner, to the fat Don Quixote in the lower right.
+
+In this neglected little room, with its festoons of cobwebs, its musty
+smell and its sense of old, forgotten things and people, she would
+tuck herself away with a pocket full of apples, to study and read by
+the hour.
+
+The Colonel had done his part, and she was determined to do hers; for
+three years she kept sturdily at it, devouring the things she could
+understand, and blithely skipping those she could not, extracting
+meanwhile a vast amount of pleasure out of each passing day. For the
+thing that differentiated Miss Lady from the rest of her fellow kind
+was that she was usually glad. She liked to get up in the morning and
+to go to bed at night, a peculiarity in itself sufficiently great to
+individualize her. She greeted each new experience with enthusiasm and
+managed to extract the largest possible quota of happiness out of the
+smallest and most insignificant occasion.
+
+As she went singing through the hall, the Colonel tried to frown over
+his glasses, but he was only partially successful. She was too
+satisfying a sight with her shining hair and eyes, and lithe, supple
+figure, every motion of which bespoke that quick, unconscious freedom
+of body peculiar to children and those favored of the gods, who never
+grow old.
+
+The tall, awkward young man who had by this time arrived at the porch,
+followed the Colonel's gaze, and then, without speaking, sat down on
+the steps and clasped his hands about his knees. Noah Wicker's
+awkwardness, however manifest to others, was evidently a matter of
+small moment to him. He had apparently accepted the companionship of
+unmanageable arms and legs without question, and without
+embarrassment. His stubby blond hair rose straight from a high, broad
+forehead, and grew down in square patches in front of his ears. His
+eyes, small and steady, surveyed the world with profound indifference.
+
+When Miss Lady disappeared the Colonel turned upon him suddenly:
+
+"What about this rich young fellow over at your house? Who is he
+anyhow?"
+
+"Morley?" Noah crossed his knees deliberately. "Why, he's a brother-
+in-law of Mr. Sequin."
+
+"Not Basil Sequin, the president of the People's Bank! You don't say!"
+The Colonel paused for a moment to digest this fact, then he went on:
+"Hell-bent on farming I hear; wants your father to look around for a
+place."
+
+This not being in the form of a question, Noah conserved his energies.
+
+"Don't amount to a hill of beans, I'll warrant," continued the
+Colonel, with a watchful eye on Noah for denial or confirmation, but
+Noah was noncommittal. "When a fellow gets to be twenty-three years
+old and can't find anything better to do than to run around the
+country spending his money, and playing with the girls, there's a
+screw loose somewhere. What does he know about stock-farming?"
+
+"Says he's been reading up."
+
+"Fiddlesticks!" roared the Colonel. "You can't learn farming out of a
+book! What does he know about horses?"
+
+"Oh! He's on to horses all right," Noah grinned ambiguously. "You and
+I couldn't teach him anything about horses."
+
+"Can he shoot?"
+
+"Can't hit a barn door."
+
+The Colonel heaved a deep sigh, drained the last drops from his
+tumbler, then leaned forward, confidentially:
+
+"Noah Wicker, do you like that young chap?"
+
+"Like him?" Noah looked up in surprise. "Why, everybody likes Don
+Morley."
+
+"I don't," said the Colonel fiercely. "Here he comes now. I wish you'd
+look at that!"
+
+A headlong young man in model riding costume, astride a bob-tailed
+sorrel, rashly took a fence where gate there was none, and came
+cantering across the Colonel's favorite stretch of blue grass.
+
+"Awfully sorry to have cut across, Colonel!" he called out in tones
+that spoke little contrition. "Slipped my trolley as usual and got
+lost in the bullrushes. Hope I haven't kept Miss Lady waiting?"
+
+The Colonel rose and extended a hand of welcome. A true Kentuckian may
+commit murder and still be a gentleman, but to fail in hospitality is
+to forfeit even his own self-respect.
+
+"My daughter, Mr. Morley, will be out presently," he announced with
+great formality.
+
+"And how are you, Mike?" went on young Morley, stooping to pat the
+dog; "didn't mean to cut you, old fellow, 'pon my word I didn't."
+
+The dog, a shaggy beast, with small, plaintive eyes looking out from a
+fringe of wiry hair, expressed his appreciation of this attention with
+all the emotion a stump of tail would permit.
+
+"It's a bully day!" continued the visitor with enthusiasm, wiping his
+wrists and forehead, and tossing his hair back. "If I weren't going to
+town to-night I'd ask you to take me fishing, Colonel. Hello! What
+kind of a reel is that?"
+
+Now the article which had attracted attention happened to be an
+invention of the Colonel's, something he had been working on for a
+long time, so he could not resist explaining its unique qualities.
+
+"Well, I'll be hanged!" said Morley, turning it over and over
+admiringly. "If that isn't the cleverest thing I ever saw. This little
+screw regulates the slack, doesn't it? Does your legal mind get on to
+that, Wick?"
+
+"It was a great job to get that to fit," said the Colonel, nattered in
+spite of himself. "Took me the best part of a week to puzzle out that
+one point."
+
+"A week!" exclaimed Morley. "It would have taken me months! Oh! here
+she is!" and from the very ardent look that leapt into his face, and
+the alacrity with which he sprang up, it might have been doubted
+whether his mind had been wholly upon the matter under discussion.
+
+Miss Lady greeted him with almost boyish frankness, but there was an
+unmistakable flush under the smooth tan of her cheek that did not
+escape the vigilant eye of the Colonel.
+
+"Here you are, Dad! here you are, Noah!" she said, tossing a small
+package to each; "sandwiches and hard boiled eggs for two."
+
+"Put the salt in for the eggs?" asked the Colonel, having had
+experience with her lunches.
+
+"I believe I did. Open yours and see, Noah. Say, Daddy darling!" she
+swooped down upon him from the rear, slipping an arm about his neck as
+he knelt on the porch to collect his hooks and lines, "you are going
+to let me ride Prince, just this once, aren't you?"
+
+[Illustration: The Colonel leaned back upon his knees and glared at
+Morley.]
+
+The Colonel gasped, partly from strangulation, and partly from
+amazement.
+
+"Prince!" he cried. "Well, I reckon not! That colt's hardly broken to
+the saddle. He threw Jimpson last week."
+
+"Well, I'm not Jimpson. Please, Daddy, just this once."
+
+"If that's the little beast Wick was telling me about," said Morley,
+"we are certainly not going to trust you on him."
+
+The Colonel leaned back upon his knees where he knelt on the porch,
+and glared at Morley.
+
+"Who do you mean by we?"
+
+"The conservative party of which I, for once, am a member. From all I
+can hear of that colt, no girl could handle him."
+
+"You are absolutely mistaken, sir! I taught my daughter to straddle a
+horse before I taught her to walk. Handle him? Of course she can
+handle him! Jimpson!" he roared in conclusion, "put the side-saddle on
+Prince!"
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER II
+
+
+The Cane Run Road lay straight ahead, now white under the full light
+of the sun, now dappled with tiny dancing shadows from the interlaced
+twigs overhead, new clothed in their garb of green. White and purple
+violets peeped from the fence corners, and overhead the birds made
+busy in the branches.
+
+Two young people, flushed and smiling, drew rein and looked at each
+other. In the eyes of each was a challenge.
+
+"I'll race you to the mill!" cried Miss Lady, tugging at her bridle.
+"Don't start 'til I give the word. Now, go!"
+
+Off through the smiling, sunlit fields they dashed, too impetuous and
+young, and gloriously free, to waste a thought on that inexorable
+wheel of life, upon which sooner or later the most irresponsible must
+break their wings. On and on they went, neck to neck, the gallop
+breaking into a run. Down past the blacksmith's, past the old mill
+which was to have been the goal, through the long covered bridge, over
+the hill and out again on the level road where they still kept
+abreast.
+
+And close upon them, with head up and mane flying, came another steed,
+free, irresponsible, unbridled, invisible. It was Romance, pounding in
+their wake; Romance, whose hoof beats made their pulses dance in
+unison, whose breath upon their cheeks made them laugh for joy in the
+face of the wind.
+
+They were almost to the city now, having reached that slovenly suburb
+that had given its plebeian name to the once aristocratic
+neighborhood. Clouds of dust whirled in their wake, and stones flew
+right and left under the horses' hoofs; men in carts pulled their
+teams to the side of the road to let the mad pair pass; dogs dashed
+from dark doorways, barking furiously.
+
+Suddenly, just as they neared the railroad junction, the sharp whistle
+of an engine sent Prince plunging into the air. Donald rose in his
+stirrups and made a frantic clutch at the horse's head, but even as he
+missed it, he heard the clanging signal for an approaching train and
+saw the gates immediately in front of them descending. Instantly he
+flung himself out of the saddle, and sprang for Prince's head. The
+horse, almost under the nose of the engine, reared frantically,
+swerved, then came to a trembling stand, as Miss Lady deftly loosened
+her skirt from the pommel, and swung herself to the ground.
+
+In a second Don was beside her.
+
+"Are you hurt?" he cried, catching her arm with his free hand and
+looking anxiously into her face.
+
+"Not a bit. Who won?" she asked with a little catch in her voice.
+
+"Lord! You were plucky! If anything had happened to you!" his hand
+tightened on her wrist, and he drew in his breath sharply.
+
+The afternoon freight came lumbering by, and they stood close together
+with the hot breath of the engine in their faces. Her hair blew across
+his face and he could feel her body trembling against his shoulder.
+Neither of them seemed to be aware of the fact that he still held her
+hand, and that the horses were tugging at their respective bridles.
+
+As the train thundered past and the gates lifted, Miss Lady turned
+quickly and began to pin up her loosened hair.
+
+"Pretty narrow shave, Miss," commented a redheaded man with a flag,
+hurrying across the track, and joining an old apple-woman and two
+small boys who constituted an interested audience.
+
+"I seen you a-coming an' would 'a' let you through, only I'm a-
+substitutin' on this job, and wasn't in fer takin' no extry risks."
+
+"Here, boy!" cried Donald, "hold my horse. The girth's broken; I'll
+have to make another hole in the strap."
+
+The word "boy" being a generic term was promptly appropriated by each
+of the youngsters as applying to himself, and a fierce scramble ensued
+in which the larger was victorious.
+
+"Skeeter's it," announced the flagman, a self-constituted umpire. "Git
+out 'er the way there, Chick, and give the gent a chanct to see what
+he's a-doin'."
+
+Chick, a large-headed, small-bodied goblin of a boy, made an
+unintelligible, guttural sound in his throat and remained where he
+was, evidently considering it of paramount importance that _he_ should
+see what the gentleman was doing.
+
+It was with some difficulty that the new hole in the strap was made,
+and to secure the buckle more firmly Don gave it several sharp raps
+with the handle of his riding whip. At the last one the silver knob
+flew from the handle and rolled to the roadside.
+
+In an instant the small boys were after it, the older having deserted
+his post without compunction, when a question of booty was involved.
+They grappled together in the dust of the road, long before they
+reached the prize, and with arms and legs entwined rolled toward it.
+
+Chick was underneath when they arrived, but he loosened his clutch of
+Skeeter's throat, and darted forth a small, grimy hand that closed
+upon the treasure. In an instant Skeeter seized upon the clenched
+fist, and was wrenching it open, when a third party entered the fray.
+
+"The little one got it!" cried Miss Lady indignantly; "he got it
+first! Give it to him this minute!"
+
+"I be damned if I do!" shouted Skeeter, roused to fury by the combat.
+
+"I'll be damned if you don't," said Miss Lady, equally determined.
+
+The skirmish was fierce but short, and by the time Don got to them,
+Miss Lady had restored the spoils to the lawful victor, and was
+assisting the vanquished foe to wipe the dust from his eyes.
+
+"Well, partner," said Donald to Chick, "what have you got to say to
+the young lady for taking your part?"
+
+"He ain't got nothin' to say," said Skeeter glibly. "He's dumb. Nobody
+but me can't understand him. He says thank you, ma'am."
+
+Chick having uttered no sound, it was evident that Skeeter depended
+upon telepathy.
+
+"He's a ash-barrel baby," went on Skeeter, eager to impart
+information; "he ain't got no real folks, and he's been to the
+Juvenile Court twict; onct for hopping freights and onct fer me and
+him smashin' winders."
+
+All eyes were turned upon the hero, who immediately became absorbed in
+his whip-handle. He was small, and exceedingly thin, and exceedingly
+dirty. The most conspicuous things about him were his large, wistful
+eyes, and his broad smile that showed where his teeth were going to
+be. Across his narrow chest a ragged elbowless coat was hitched
+together by one button, while a pair of bare, spindling legs dwindled
+away respectively into a high black shoe, and a low-cut tan one, both
+of which were well ventilated at the heels.
+
+"I don't believe he's very bad," smiled Miss Lady, catching his chin
+in her hand and turning his face up to hers. "Are you, Chick?"
+
+He made a queer guttural sound in his throat but, his official
+interpreter being by this time absorbed in the horses, was unable to
+make himself understood.
+
+"It must be awful for a boy not to be able to ask questions!" she went
+on, looking down at him, then seeing something in his face that other
+people missed, she suddenly drew him to her and gave him a little
+motherly squeeze.
+
+The ride home was somewhat leisurely, for the accident, slight as it
+was, had sobered the riders, and there was, moreover, a subject under
+discussion that called for considerable earnest expostulation on one
+side, and much tantalizing evasion on the other.
+
+"It all depends upon you," Donald was saying, as they climbed the last
+hill. "Cropsie Decker starts for the coast to-morrow but the steamer
+doesn't sail for ten days. Shall I go or stay?"
+
+"But you were so mad about it two weeks ago, you could scarcely wait
+to start."
+
+"Lots of things can happen in two weeks. Shall I stay?"
+
+"What do your family think about it?"
+
+"My family? Oh, you mean my sister. She doesn't make a habit of losing
+sleep over my affairs. She'd probably say go. I am rather unpopular
+with her just now, because I don't approve of this affair between my
+niece Margery and Fred Dillingham. I fancy she'd be rather relieved to
+get me out of the way. In fact, everybody says go, except Doctor
+Queerington. He is a cousin of ours, used to be my English professor,
+up at the university. He has always harbored the illusion that I can
+write. Wants me to settle down some place in the country and go at it
+in earnest."
+
+"You don't mean John Jay Queerington, the author?" Miss Lady said
+eagerly. "Is he really your cousin? Daddy went to school to his
+father, and has told me so much about him, that without seeing him, I
+could write a book on the subject."
+
+"Great old chap in his way, an authority on heaven knows how many
+subjects, yet he scarcely makes enough money to take care of his
+children."
+
+"But think of the books he is giving to the world! He told Daddy he
+was on his thirteenth volume!"
+
+"Yes, he swims around most of the time in a sea of declensions,
+conjugations, and syntaxes, in Greek, Latin and English."
+
+"I think he's magnificent!" cried Miss Lady, trying to hold Prince
+down to a walk. "I adore people who do great things and amount to
+something."
+
+"All of which I suppose is meant to reflect on a poor devil who
+doesn't do things and doesn't amount to anything?"
+
+"I never said so."
+
+"See here," said Donald whimsically, "for two weeks you have been
+getting me _not_ to do things. When I think of all the things I have
+promised you, I can feel my hair turning white. Having polished me off
+on the don'ts, you aren't going to begin on the do's, are you?"
+
+"Indeed I am. Does Doctor Queerington really think you could be a
+writer?"
+
+"He has been after me about it ever since I was a youngster. I'm
+always scribbling at something, but there is nothing in it. Besides,"
+he added with a smile, "I'm going to be a farmer."
+
+Miss Lady threw back her head and laughed:
+
+   "He wants to be a farmer
+     And with the farmers stand
+   The hay seed on his forehead
+     And a rake within his hand."
+
+"Oh! Don Morley, one minute it's the Orient, the next it's literature,
+and the next a farm; you don't know what you want!"
+
+"Yes, I do, too," he caught her bridle and brought the horses close
+together. "I know perfectly what I want, and so do you. Haven't I told
+you four times a day for two weeks?"
+
+She looked away to the far horizon where a bank of formidable clouds
+was forming:
+
+"Oh, we all think we want things one day and forget about them the
+next. Life is made up of desires that seem big and vital one minute,
+and little and absurd the next. I guess we get what's best for us in
+the end."
+
+"I haven't so far!" Don said fiercely. "I've gotten what was worst for
+me and I've made the worst of it."
+
+They had turned into the lane now and were walking their horses up to
+the stile where Jimpson was waiting to take them.
+
+"Don't put my mare up," directed Donald. "I've got to ride back to
+town to-night. There's rain in those clouds; I ought to be starting
+this minute."
+
+But his haste was evidently not imperative, for he followed Miss Lady
+through the narrow winding paths, between a tangle of shrubs and
+vines, into the old-fashioned flower garden. The spiraea was just
+putting out its long, feathery plumes of white, and the lilacs nodded
+white and purple in the breeze.
+
+"Here's the first wild rose!" cried Miss Lady, darting to a corner of
+the old stone wall; "the idea of its daring to come out so soon!"
+
+He took the frail little blossom and smiled at it half quizzically:
+"It's funny," he said awkwardly, "your giving me this. You know, it's
+what you made me think of, the first time I saw you,--a wild rose.
+Didn't she, Mike?"
+
+Mike, who had been dreaming all afternoon on the porch, had gotten up
+reluctantly as they passed and followed them. He had a slow, lopsided
+gait, and his tongue dangled from the side of his mouth. It was
+evidently a sacrifice for him to accompany them, but duty was duty.
+
+"You angel dog! Come here to your Missus!" commanded Miss Lady, as she
+and Donald dropped down in the old barrel-stave hammock, that had
+swung beneath the lilacs since the Colonel was a boy.
+
+But Mike ambled past her, and after snuggling up to Don with a great
+show of intimacy lay down at his feet.
+
+"I'm glad somebody loves me," Donald said.
+
+"It's your riding boots, Mike likes. He never had a chance to taste
+tan shoe polish before!"
+
+"What do you like me for?"
+
+"Me? Who said I did?"
+
+"Don't you?"
+
+"Oh, yes, I like tan boots, too. Why didn't you tell me my hair had
+tumbled down again?"
+
+"Because you are so beautiful, with it like that, Miss Lady--"
+
+"Now, Don, if you begin again I shall go straight in the house. What
+did you mean by saying you had gotten what was worst for you, and you
+had made the worst of it?"
+
+"Oh, the way I've been brought up. You see my sister took me when I
+was a baby, and I guess I was an awful nuisance to her. She liked to
+travel, and kept it up a good while even after Margery was born. I
+grew up in hotels and on steamers and trains, going to school wherever
+we happened to be staying long enough; sometimes in France, sometimes
+in Switzerland, sometimes in America. I remember one Christmas when I
+was about six, we were in a hotel in Paris. My nurse put me to bed
+early so she could go out with her sweetheart, and told me there
+wasn't any Santa Claus, so I wouldn't stay awake watching for him. I
+hate that woman to this day! I can remember the big, lonesome room,
+and the red curtains, and the crystal chandelier and the way I cried
+because there wasn't any Santa Claus, and because I didn't have a
+sweetheart!"
+
+"Poor little chap! It was a mother you wanted."
+
+"Perhaps. Sister was good to me. But she didn't understand me; she
+never has. She has always given me too much of everything, advice
+included."
+
+"But since you have been grown, you've had lots of time to--to--take
+things into your own hands."
+
+"Well, I did for a while. I managed to squeeze through the university,
+then I went into the shops and had a bully time for five months, but
+it made no end of a row! Sister felt that after all she had done for
+me, I oughtn't to go dead against her wishes, and I guess she was
+right. Then I went into the bank and was beginning to get the hang of
+things, when she had a nervous collapse and was ordered to Egypt for
+the winter. My brother-in-law couldn't take her, so he sent me."
+
+"But you stayed longer than she did."
+
+"Yes, I played around on the Riviera for a while."
+
+"And you have been home, how long?"
+
+"Three months. Honestly, I meant to buckle down to something right
+off, but Cropsie Decker got this offer to go to the Orient for the
+_Herald-Post_, and asked me to go along. I was keen about it
+until--until I came down here."
+
+They were both silent for a while, watching a spider that was
+exploring Don's boot-lace.
+
+"It all seems so footless now. What I want is a house of my own, a
+home, I mean. I never had much of that sort of thing--I'm not quite
+sure I knew what a home was until I saw Thornwood."
+
+"Isn't it dear?" asked Miss Lady with a loving look over her shoulder
+at the old house silhouetted against the sky. "I could kiss every
+brick of it, I love it so."
+
+"I wish I didn't have to go back to town tonight!" burst out Donald
+inconsequentially. "I wish I never had to go back to it!"
+
+"Why?"
+
+"Oh, for lots of reasons. I'm a different fellow down here in the
+country, with things to do, and the right sort of things to think
+about, and--and you! You see," he smiled without looking up, "I'm not
+much good in town."
+
+"How do you mean?" asked Miss Lady, with disconcerting frankness.
+
+Donald shrugged his broad shoulders: "Oh! I don't know. I get into
+things before I know it. This Eastern trip, now; it sounded great when
+I said I'd go, Cropsie is a regular bird, the best fellow in the world
+to go on such a lark with, but--"
+
+Miss Lady shot a glance at the handsome, boyish, irresponsible face
+beside her.
+
+"Don't go, Don!" she whispered impulsively; "stay here and buy your
+farm!"
+
+"You mean it!" he demanded, seizing her hands. "You want me to stay?"
+
+The blood surged into her cheeks, but she did not withdraw her hands.
+Into her eager, luminous eyes had leapt the response that had been
+held in abeyance all afternoon.
+
+"If I stay," he pressed hotly, "if I settle down and behave myself,
+and make good, you'll promise me--"
+
+"Jimpson!" thundered a familiar voice from the road. "That good-for-
+nothing, lazy nigger, why don't he come help me with these things?
+Jimpson!"
+
+"I'll tell him, Dad!" called Miss Lady, springing from the hammock.
+
+"But wait!" pleaded Donald, "just a minute. I've got to beat that
+storm to town, and tell Decker the trip is off. But I'll be back in
+the morning! Perhaps to breakfast. Oh, my darling, I am so happy! Say
+you love me! Say it!"
+
+Old Mike stirred in his slumbers, then opened one eye. It was
+evidently time for him to take some action. When two young people are
+standing very close with clasped hands and love-lit eyes in the dim
+fragrance of an old garden, even a dog of a chaperon knows that it is
+time to interfere! With great presence of mind he discovered an
+imaginary squirrel in the hedge directly beside them, and set up such
+a furious barking that Miss Lady looked around and laughed. For a
+second she stood, her head thrown back, a teasing, half-shy, half-
+daring look on her face, then she dropped a swift kiss on the hand
+that clasped hers, and without a word went flying crimson-cheeked up
+the lilac-bordered path.
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER III
+
+
+Donald Morley rode back to town through the coming storm, in that
+particular state of ecstasy that mortals are permitted to enjoy but
+once in a lifetime. Not that falling in love was a novel sensation; on
+the contrary a varied experience had made him agreeably familiar with
+all the symptoms. But this, he assured himself with passionate
+vehemence, was something altogether and absolutely different. Between
+now and that morning when he had idly ridden out to Wicker's in search
+of a farm, lay a sea as wide as Destiny!
+
+There in the country he had unexpectedly come upon his fate and with
+characteristic impetuosity had pursued and overtaken it. Other girls
+may have stirred his heart, but it had remained for a wild little
+pagan of the woods to stir his soul. He had laid bare to her the most
+secret places of his being, had confessed his sins, and received
+absolution. From this time on the frivolities of youth lay behind him,
+and ambition sat upon his brow. He would cut out the trip to the
+Orient, buy a farm and settle down to work as if he hadn't a penny in
+the world. Once the Colonel was made to recognize his worth, the gates
+of Paradise would be open!
+
+He thought of the home he would build for her, and the flowers that
+would encompass it, of the horses and dogs they would have and
+perhaps--The memory of her face as she clasped Chick in the road
+flashed over him, and he straightened his shoulders suddenly and
+smiled almost tremulously. Yes, he'd be worthy of her, from this time
+forward life should hold no higher privilege!
+
+It was after seven o'clock by the time he reached the Junction, and
+heavy mutterings of thunder could be heard in the west.
+
+"Does this street go through to the boulevard?" he asked of a man,
+pointing with his knobless whip.
+
+The lank person addressed removed his weight from the telegraph pole
+that had supported it and sauntered forward. As he did so Donald
+recognized the red-headed umpire of the afternoon.
+
+"No, sir, Captain," he said, "it do not. This here is Bean Alley.
+These city politicians has got their own way of running streets; they
+take a pencil you see and draw a line along the property of folks that
+can pay for streets. The balance of us sets in mud puddles." The man
+evidently found some difficulty in expressing himself without the
+assistance of profanity. There were blanks left between the words,
+which he supplied mentally with compressed lips and lifting of shaggy
+brows, that served as an effective substitute. His conversation
+printed would resemble these grammatical exercises, struggled with an
+early youth, in which "a----dog----attacked a----boy with a----stick."
+
+But his suppressed eloquence was lost upon his hearer, for Donald had
+become absorbed in a theatrical poster, which represented a
+preternaturally slim young lady, poised on a champagne bottle, coyly
+surveying an admiring world through the extended fingers of a small
+black gloved hand. It was "La Florine," whose charms he had heard
+recounted times without number by Mr. Cropsie Decker.
+
+This evening, the poster announced, "La Florine" would for the first
+time in any American city, perform her incomparable dance, "The
+Serpent of the Nile."
+
+Don had consulted his watch, and made a lightning calculation as to
+the time in which he could get a bite of supper and reach the Gayety,
+before he remembered that he was a reformed character. Then he sternly
+withdrew his gaze from the lady who peeped through her fingers in the
+dusk, and brought it back to the red-headed person, who had continued
+his conversation with unbroken volubility.
+
+"... and she says to me," he was concluding "'Mr. Flathers,' she says,
+'it's a privelege to help such as you. A man what's been in the gutter
+times without number, and bore the awful horrors of delirium tremins
+four times and still can feel the stirrings of Christianity in his
+bosom.'"
+
+Donald looked at him and laughed. Here was evidently a fellow sinner.
+
+"So you've straightened up, have you? How does it feel?"
+
+Mr. Flathers cast a sidelong glance upward as if to size up the
+handsome young gentleman on horseback.
+
+"Mighty depressin'," he confessed, "with a thirst that's been
+accumulatin' for weeks and weeks, and a sick wife, and a adobted child
+that ain't spoke a word for seven years. But I'm restin' on the Lord.
+He well pervide."
+
+"Oh, you'll get along!" said Don, feeling uncommonly lenient toward
+his fellow men. "Here's a dollar if that will help you out a bit."
+
+"It will," said Mr. Flathers reassuringly; "it undoubtedly will. I got
+much to be thankful for, I know that. Fer instance I never was a poor
+relation! That's more than lots of men kin say! The fact are, there
+ain't airy one in my whole family connection what's got any more 'n I
+have!"
+
+The shower that had been threatening began now in earnest, and Donald
+started toward town at a brisk canter, but before he had gone two
+squares the rain was driving in sheets across the street, and he was
+obliged to dismount and seek shelter in the doorway of an isolated
+building that stood at the end of the common. It was a double door
+with the upper parts in colored glass, on which was boldly lettered,
+
+The CANT-PASS-IT SALOON.
+
+In one of the windows a placard informed the famishing residents of
+Billy-goat Hill that their thirst might not be assuaged until after
+twelve o'clock on Sunday night.
+
+As Donald stood in the doorway, an automobile turned the corner and
+came to a stop, the lights from the lamps shining on the wet street,
+and throwing everything outside their radius into sudden darkness.
+
+A man got out of the machine and ran for shelter. He was coughing, and
+held his collar close about his throat.
+
+"Why, hello, Dillingham," said Morley, recognizing him. "How did you
+get out here?"
+
+"Joy-riding," said Dillingham with a curl of his lip. "Tried to make a
+short cut, and got marooned. What are you doing here?"
+
+"I've been out in the country for a couple of weeks. Got caught in the
+shower. What's the matter? Are you sick?"
+
+Dillingham was leaning against the door jamb, shivering. He was a
+short, sallow, delicate-looking young fellow with self-explanatory
+puffs under his somewhat prominent eyes.
+
+"Chilled to the bone," he chattered. "I've got to get something to
+warm me up. Is this a saloon?"
+
+"Yes, but it's closed. Won't be open until midnight."
+
+Mr. Dillingham made a sweeping condemnation of a city administration
+that would countenance such a proceeding, then set his wits to work to
+evade the law.
+
+"Whose joint is this, anyhow?" he asked, glancing up. "Sheeley's? Why,
+of course. I've been out here to prize fights. He lives somewhere
+around here. Ugh! but I'm cold. I'll be a corpse this time next week
+if I don't head off this chill. Let's look him up and get a drink."
+
+Donald hesitated to spring the news of his reformation upon one who
+was already in a weakened condition. He assured himself that he would
+refuse when the time came. In the meanwhile no reason presented itself
+for refusing to assist his friend in quest of a life-preserver.
+
+"Sheeley used to live in one of those shacks over there. It's letting
+up a bit, suppose we go over?" proposed Dillingham, shaking the water
+out of his cap.
+
+"Been out to the house to-day?" asked Donald as they splashed through
+the mud.
+
+"Just came from there. The truth is Margery and I have fixed things up
+at last. Any congratulations?"
+
+"To be sure," said Donald, extending a wet hand, but frowning into the
+darkness. "Have you told my sister?"
+
+"Mrs. Sequin?" Dillingham smiled with superior amusement. "I guess she
+didn't have to be told. I imagine she thought of it before we did.
+Rather keen on me, you know, from the start."
+
+Donald drew in his breath but said nothing. Had it not been true, how
+he would have enjoyed punching Dill's head!
+
+"You get off to the Orient this week, I suppose," went on Dillingham.
+"Lucky devil! Decker asked me to go along. If it hadn't been for the
+paternal grandparent I'd have gone in a minute, but he put his foot
+down. When do you sail?"
+
+"I've given up the trip. I'm going to buy a farm out near the
+Wickers', and get down to work."
+
+Dillingham whistled incredulously:
+
+"Yes, I see you doing it! You are counting on pulling off the Derby, I
+suppose?"
+
+"No, I'm not going to enter my horse."
+
+"What! Why Lickety-Split could win that race in a walk. All the crowd
+say you stand to win. Here, this is the shanty; at least it's where he
+used to live."
+
+A bright light streamed from the uncurtained window of a small
+cottage, revealing a family group within. A fat, smiling woman in curl
+papers, with a baby in her arms, and six youngsters in varying stages
+of Sabbath cleanliness, hung upon the words of a man who sat in a
+large, plush self-rocker, and read from a highly colored picture book.
+In the head of the family Dillingham recognized Richard Sheeley, ex-
+pugilist, and present proprietor of the Cant-Pass-It.
+
+"Well, if it ain't Mr. Dillingham!" exclaimed Sheeley, throwing open
+the door in answer to their knock. "Soaked through, ain't you? Little
+somethin' to warm you up? Sure. Just come in and wait 'til I git on my
+shoes and find an umbrella and I'll go over with you. Don't keep a
+drop here," he added in a whisper, behind a hand so large that he
+evidently regarded it as sound proof. "Missus won't stand fer it,
+'count of the kids, eh?"
+
+"That's him, Ma, the one I was telling you about," Richard Sheeley,
+Jr.,--yclept "Skeeter"--tugged at his mother's sleeve, nodding his
+head at Donald, who was making love to the smallest and shyest of the
+daughters of the house.
+
+"She ain't as meek as she looks!" Mrs. Sheeley was saying, as she
+tried to get the child from behind her skirts. "She's got her popper's
+temper along with his smartness. They ain't either one of them got a
+grain of sense when they git mad. I never seen a child with such a
+temper, did you, Popper?"
+
+But Sheeley did not heed her; he was busy doing the honors to one he
+evidently considered an honored guest.
+
+"Sit right down here, Mr. Dillingham, lemme take the book out of the
+chair. I was just reading to the Missus and the kids a book Skeeter
+brought home from Sunday School, all about Dan'l and the lions' den.
+Tall tale that, Mr. Dillingham. About one of the raciest animal
+articles I ever come acrost."
+
+When they were ready to go, Mrs. Sheeley followed them anxiously to
+the door.
+
+"It's a awful stormy night, Popper; you ain't going to stay, are you?"
+
+"Not long. I'll be back to finish the story. So long, kids!" He swung
+himself down the wooden steps, between his two well-groomed
+companions, looking back now and then at the bright, open doorway,
+where the smiling fat woman stood surrounded by half a dozen tow-
+headed children.
+
+Just as they reached the saloon, the storm, which had evidently only
+paused for breath, broke in all its fury. The thunder rolled nearer
+and flashes of lightning pierced the darkness.
+
+"Here! The side door!" shouted Sheeley.
+
+"Wait till I strike a match. I'll take the umbrella. Go right up-
+stairs, if you don't mind. I want you to see the improvements I been
+making. There ain't a saloon this side the city limits that's got the
+'quipment for sparring matches mine has."
+
+"Get busy with some whisky in the meanwhile," reminded Dillingham
+sharply; "and I say, can't you make a fire somewhere? I'm chattering
+like an idiot."
+
+"Sure I can. There's a stove up there, and a bottle or two of extra
+fine liquor. Jes' step right up."
+
+Half way up the ill-lighted stairs they paused. Above the wind and the
+rain, a curious sound had come from below as if someone had stumbled
+against something.
+
+"Who is that?" Sheeley demanded sharply, leaning over the banister and
+peering down into the gloom.
+
+No answer came, but a draught of wind blew in from somewhere, swaying
+the gas-jet.
+
+"Oh! it's a window that's left open," said Sheeley. "That fool
+bartender! I'll just go down and fasten it."
+
+The lock proved stubborn, and it was with some difficulty that he
+forced it into place. Meanwhile the two young men had lit the gas in
+the large upper room and were inspecting the elevated stage where
+boxers were wont to engage surreptitiously in the noble art of self-
+defense.
+
+"Take yours straight I believe, Mr. Dillingham?" said Sheeley,
+rejoining them; "an' yer gentleman friend?"
+
+"Nothing for me," said Morley with unnecessary firmness. "I'll just
+wait a second until the storm lets up, then be off to town."
+
+"Do any boxing these days, Dick?" asked Dillingham, pouring himself a
+second drink of whisky, as he hovered over the newly kindled fire.
+
+"Oh! I don the mitts occasionally to gratify me friends. My long suit
+these days is faro; more money in it."
+
+Donald, standing at the window, staring out at the wild night, drummed
+impatiently on the pane.
+
+"Hurry up, Dill," he said. "I don't want to keep my mare standing so
+long in the rain."
+
+"Your mare be hanged," said Dillingham; "just wait ten minutes until I
+get thawed out, and I'll go with you."
+
+Donald had waited ten minutes for Dill before, but never with the
+present sense of responsibility, born of his new connection with the
+family. He knew that his only chance of getting him home was to humor
+him.
+
+How the wind whistled across the window! He wondered what Miss Lady
+was doing? Was she sitting by the table in the cozy living-room at
+Thornwood, with the lamplight on her hair? Was she at the harpsichord,
+singing to the Colonel? Was she standing, as he was standing, at the
+window, peering out into the wild night, and thinking,--and longing--?
+
+"What's the matter with a little game of poker?" asked Sheeley,
+lightly running a deck of cards up the length of his arm and reversing
+them with a deftness that spoke of long familiarity.
+
+"Great idea!" exclaimed Dillingham expansively. "Just pass that
+bottle, will you? What's that, Morley? Haven't got time? What in
+thunder's the matter with you to-night?"
+
+Donald retorted, with great dignity, that nothing in thunder was the
+matter with him, except that he wanted to get back to town.
+
+"Better not start with it storming like this," urged Sheeley, as a
+crash of thunder shook the windows. "It'll let up soon."
+
+"Tell you what I'll do!" said Dillingham, putting an arm across
+Donald's shoulder affectionately, and speaking a trifle unsteadily.
+"If you'll play a couple of games I'll go home with you--You ought to
+be willing to do that for a fellow that's going to be your uncle. I
+mean your nephew."
+
+"And you'll go the minute the rain lets up?"
+
+"Yes, if you'll play with us."
+
+Donald stood irresolute, watching Dillingham's thin, unsteady fingers
+shuffle the cards. He must get him home somehow, for Margery's sake.
+Dill never knew when to stop, he was good for the night unless
+somebody intervened.
+
+Sheeley caught his eye and nodded significantly.
+
+"All right!" said Donald, dropping into the vacant chair. "Only two
+games remember! No whisky, thanks. What's the ante?"
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER IV
+
+
+When Miss Lady had championed the cause of the oppressed that
+afternoon, she had unknowingly spoiled a criminal in the making. Chick
+Flathers, at the advanced age of eleven, had been so impressed by the
+injustice of social conditions that he had dedicated himself to a life
+of crime. He had already achieved two appearances in the Juvenile
+Court, and two days in the Detention Home. He was now fully decided to
+be a burglar.
+
+To be sure there were extenuating circumstances for Chick. It was
+unquestionably a handicap to have opened his eyes for the first time
+in an ash barrel, and in Mr. Flathers' ash barrel at that. The
+transfer in a patrol wagon to an incubator in the City Hospital had
+been the next move, hence back to Mr. Flathers' who, inasmuch as it
+was _his_ ash barrel, felt called upon by Providence to adopt the
+foundling.
+
+The next misfortune that befell him was in being dropped out of the
+window on his head, during one of Maria Flathers' absent-minded
+moments. This apparently did not affect his head, but in time it
+seriously affected his speech. The fact that he had so much to say,
+without being able to say it, resulted in a dammed-up current that
+sometimes overflowed in temper and viciousness. He talked a great
+deal, but nobody was able, or took the pains to try, to understand
+him. That is, not until Skeeter Sheeley gave him his nickname and
+became his official interpreter.
+
+Their friendship dated from a memorable day when Skeeter had for the
+first time heard of the incubator incident, and had promptly accosted
+the Flathers' foundling as "Chicken." The insult had been instantly
+resented in a battle so fierce and so bloody, that the details of it
+became historic in the annals of Billy-goat Hill. Chick, though of
+lighter weight, and feeble muscle, was armed with righteous
+indignation. He observed no rules, but fought with arms, legs, teeth
+and nails. The odds were against him however, and he had to be
+assisted from the field, a vanquished hero.
+
+From that time on, by one of those mysterious laws that govern boydom,
+the two were inseparable companions, waging open war on all adjoining
+neighborhoods, engaging in predatory expeditions in their own, and,
+when interest in life flagged, fighting each other.
+
+Skeeter interpreted all that Chick said, interpreted it freely, and
+with imagination, and Chick apparently considered himself honor bound
+to accept the interpretation and stand for it, no matter how far it
+came from expressing his meaning.
+
+Eleven years of wickedness had thus been swaggered through when Chick
+suddenly and unexpectedly fell in love. It was when the beautiful
+young lady at the railroad crossing had bent above him like a
+succoring angel, that he had been forced to change his classification
+of the human race. Hitherto it had been divided into grown people and
+children, henceforth it was divided into men and women!
+
+All that Sunday afternoon he went about in a dream. He could not get
+over the fact that she had taken his part, that she had put her arm
+around him, and smiled at him. Once or twice when nobody was looking,
+he put his very dirty hand on his cheek and felt the spot where her
+fingers had rested.
+
+But this new and tender emotion was not allowed to interfere with the
+special project that Chick had in mind. It was a project so colossal
+in its nature, that not even Skeeter was to be admitted to the secret.
+For six weeks Chick had been the victim of a gaming system, and to-
+night he was to take his revenge.
+
+At supper time Skeeter recognized a convention of civilization and
+repaired to the bosom of his family, but Chick being accountable to
+nobody, and recognizing no conventions, stole a couple of apples from
+a passing cart, and repaired to the dump heap to wait for the dark.
+
+He had not long to wait, for great black clouds were covering the sky,
+and he could no longer see the houses at the end of the alley.
+Carefully storing his apple cores in his pocket for future trades, he
+picked his way over the tin cans and debris, until he reached the
+Junction. Here he hesitated. It was there that he and Skeeter had
+tussled for the whip. It was here that the young lady had come to his
+rescue, and said she didn't believe he was so very bad. Gee! but she
+was a pretty young lady, and her hand was so soft, and her voice--
+
+Chick rammed his hands in his pockets and pulled his cap over his
+eyes. This was no way for a cove to be feeling when he had a job to
+do! With watchful eyes for passers-by, he slipped through an opening
+in the fence, and entered the switch-yard. When he emerged he
+staggered under the weight of a crowbar which he vainly tried to hide
+under his ragged jacket.
+
+Just at the intersection of Bean Alley and the switch-yard, where the
+dusk banked up densely in the corners, he stopped again. He was
+watching his chance to get across the wide common, undetected. Twice
+he started, and twice he shrank back and flattened himself against the
+wall as some one passed.
+
+If, to the casual observer, Chick was but a dirty, ragged little boy,
+undersized and underfed, and rather frightened, to himself at least he
+was a bold desperado, about to avenge himself for a wrong committed.
+
+Thunder muttered ominously, and a drop of rain fell on his face as he
+skirted the common, and reached the big, dark saloon at the cross-
+roads. Skirting the side wall, he crept to the rear, and felt for the
+open window which he had discovered earlier in the day. It was a low
+window and easy of access, and he lost no time in climbing in.
+
+The passage was in utter darkness, but he felt his way along the wall
+until he reached a door. Here he fumbled for the knob and opened it. A
+street lamp outside threw a dim, wavering light into the room,
+revealing the long bar with its shining fixtures. Chick put down his
+crowbar and tremblingly removed his coat. According to the moving
+pictures of criminals, that was the first move. Then he resolutely
+grasped his weapon and with thumping heart approached his enemy.
+
+It appeared a very innocent enemy as it stood there in the half light,
+announcing in printed letters across its face, that seven out of every
+ten persons who put a nickel in the slot, received a prize in money.
+But Chick knew that it lied! Had it not eaten up his nickels week
+after week? Had he not worked for it, fought for it, and bled for it,
+confidently believing that the prize would be his? And there it stood
+gorged with his precious nickels, mysterious and fascinating still,
+but treacherous through and through!
+
+In a blaze of wrath Chick dealt it a sounding blow with the crowbar,
+then crouched in terror for what might happen. There was no sound but
+the dash of rain against the windows, and the heavy rumble of thunder
+overhead. Once more Chick grasped his heavy weapon and began the
+attack in earnest. Blow followed blow, as fast as his small arms could
+swing the crowbar. Suddenly a spring seemed to snap, and out poured a
+stream of money that rolled about his feet, and off into the farthest
+corners of the room.
+
+Chick crouched on the floor, overcome by his exertions and the success
+of his venture. Wealth was within his reach, more wealth than he had
+ever dreamed of! Not unintelligible gold and silver, but dear,
+familiar nickels, whose purchasing power he knew. But no thought of
+appropriation crossed his mind as he knelt there, fingering the
+glittering pile. He was carefully counting out his rightful share, the
+eleven nickels that the slot machine had stolen from him, and his
+hesitation came from the fact that he was trying to select the
+shiniest ones!
+
+Having gotten what he came for, he once more shouldered his crowbar,
+and let himself out into the dark passage. Here he stopped in terror!
+Something was snorting and hissing without, something that sounded as
+if it _might_ be the Devil!
+
+In Chick's creed there was but one affirmation. He believed absolutely
+in the Devil. He knew beyond the shadow of a doubt that he was red,
+and cloven-footed and that his tail ended in a hard, sharp, spike,
+like Mammy Flathers' ice-pick. He also knew that when he breathed, it
+was in groans and hisses, such as he was hearing at the present
+moment. Chick's hair would have risen on his head, it wanted to, but
+it was not long enough.
+
+For a moment he stood breathless, then he drew a sigh of relief. It
+wasn't anything but an automobile after all! He tiptoed to a window
+and peered out. The lamps from the machine threw long lights across
+the shining wet street, but nothing else was visible.
+
+After a long while he heard voices at the side door. Somebody was
+coming into the saloon! He could hear the doorknob turning, and a key
+in the latch. He started back to the barroom, then remembering a
+little closet under the steps where he and Skeeter used to play, he
+felt along the wall. There it was! And just in time for him to stumble
+in and pull the door to, leaving enough crack to breathe through, in
+case his breath ever came back.
+
+The side door was flung open, and the sputter of a match was followed
+by the feeble light from a gas-jet at the end of the passage.
+
+"Here, I'll take the umbrella!" said a voice he dreaded next to the
+Devil's. It was Sheeley; he would go into the barroom, and discover
+the wreckage of the slot-machine! Chick was beginning to feel the
+handcuffs on his wrists, when he became aware of ascending footsteps
+overhead. What were they going up-stairs for? Was it a sparring match?
+Forgetting his precarious position he leaned forward to listen,
+upsetting a box on the shelf beside him.
+
+"Who's that?" came in Sheeley's fiercest tones from the stairway
+above, and Chick cowered back into the dark with chattering teeth.
+Then he heard him say something about the window, and followed the
+sound of his heavy footsteps down the stairs and up again.
+
+Now was his chance to escape while they were up-stairs. With utmost
+caution he pushed open the closet door, and on hands and knees began
+his perilous journey to the window. It was at that moment that he
+decided positively that he would not be a burglar. A plumber took
+fewer risks, and made more money. Once at the window he was unable to
+budge the lock. Standing on the sill, whimpering with fear, he
+wrestled with it frantically, bruising his fingers, and tearing his
+nails, but he could not move it. Then he tried the door but Sheeley
+had evidently locked it and taken out the key.
+
+A blinding flash of lightning sent him scurrying back to his hiding-
+place, where he sank on the floor, shivering and cringing. Nearer and
+nearer roared the thunder, and the wind seemed as anxious to get into
+the house as he was eager to get out of it. Gradually his arms and
+legs ceased jerking, his head relaxed against an empty box, he laid
+his hand against the cheek that had been patted and forgot his
+troubles in sleep.
+
+When he awoke he heard loud voices overhead. At first he supposed he
+was at home, and that the voice was only Mr. Flathers enjoying one of
+his periodical backslidings. But Dick Sheeley's voice recalled him;
+Dick was mad at somebody, and when Dick got mad he fought. Not a boy
+on Billy-goat Hill but would have faced death to see the ex-
+prizefighter in a row. It was a distinction that placed one at a bound
+in the front ranks of juvenile aristocracy.
+
+Chick crept from his hiding-place and listened. The voices grew louder
+and more excited. Drawn as by a magnet he slipped up the stairs step
+by step. At the top was an off-set in the hall, a corner in which he
+could hide, unseen from the open door beyond. There he lay on his
+stomach and wriggled forward until his eye was on a line with the
+crack in the half-open door.
+
+Three men were sitting around a card table, two of them with their
+backs to him; and Dick facing them with his jaw set and his teeth
+showing. All three were talking at once, and Dick was the most excited
+of the three.
+
+"You didn't have no ace of spades to show down! You discarded it. You
+know you did, you--cheat!" He had risen and was shaking his fist in
+the face of the thin young man.
+
+"It's a lie, you common cur!" cried the other wildly, but before the
+words were well out of his mouth, Sheeley's mighty right arm had shot
+out across the table and struck him in the face.
+
+"Sheeley! For God's sake, don't you see Dillingham's drunk?" protested
+the other young man whom Chick recognized as his friend of the
+afternoon.
+
+"Drunk or no drunk, he can't call me a liar!" yelled Sheeley, and the
+next instant Chick, with his heart pounding madly between him and the
+floor, was in his element. It was a fight! A real one, in which the
+hero of Billy-goat Hill held his own against two opponents.
+
+The tumblers and the whisky bottles went first, the liquor dripping
+from the table to floor; then a chair was overturned, and a window-
+pane shattered to the ground below.
+
+The thin young man hadn't sense to stop; again and again he flung his
+insults at the infuriated Sheeley, impatiently fighting off the
+efforts of his companion who sought to part them. Suddenly Chick saw
+him step back, while the others were grappling, and fumble in his rear
+pocket. He saw him steady himself against the door jamb, not four feet
+away, and raise a pistol. There was a sharp report, a smothered groan,
+then a heavy fall.
+
+The man with the pistol flung it through the broken window, then
+staggered to the table where he sank down with his head on his arms.
+
+What had happened in the corner, Chick could not tell, but in a few
+minutes _his_ young man came swiftly into his line of vision, and
+shook the limp figure half lying on the table.
+
+"Get up, Dill! For God's sake! Are you too drunk to crank up your
+machine? As soon as I can get that blood stopped I must go for a
+doctor."
+
+The dazed eyes of the drunken man looked at him in helpless terror!
+
+"I can't stay here!"
+
+[Illustration: There was a sharp report, a smothered groan, then a
+heavy fall.]
+
+"You've got to stay here! Can't you see you are in no fix to run a
+machine? Brace up, you idiot; we've got to _do_ something and do
+it quick. Go down and try to crank up. Here's the door key! I'll be
+there as soon as I can get the blood stopped!"
+
+The man at the table staggered to the door, passed through the hall,
+so close to Chick that he almost trod upon him, then went swaying down
+the stairs, steadying himself by wall and banister. Chick heard the
+side door slam, and the chug of the machine, then realized that it was
+turning the corner.
+
+The young man in the room rushed frantically to the window and leaned
+out, then he said something savage under his breath, and plunged out
+into the passage and headlong down the steps. Chick heard the side
+door bang again, and a moment later the gallop of a horse.
+
+Then everything was still, but the noisy beating of his heart that
+threatened to burst its confines. Through the crack he saw the table
+with its broken tumblers, and the whisky drip, dripping on the floor;
+he saw the chairs overturned, and the gas-jet flickering in the wind
+from the broken window.
+
+The thing he could not see was what lay in the corner, the huddled-up,
+blood-stained hulk of a something for which a smiling, fat woman and
+six tow-headed youngsters were waiting across the common. Chick
+crawled to the head of the stairs, and as he reached the top step his
+hand touched a hard object. He picked it up and held it to the light,
+and as he did so, the joy that often blossoms on the brink of tragedy
+was his for a moment. It was the riding whip whose handle he had
+fallen heir to that afternoon!
+
+Down the steps, through the door and out into the rain-soaked night he
+sped; across the common, through the switch-yard, and down the narrow,
+noisome darkness of Bean Alley. Over a ram-shackled fence, and up a
+dilapidated porch he clambered like a cat, until he reached the small
+loft in the Flathers' two-roomed mansion which he called home.
+
+Here the hardened criminal, the breaker of laws, and of slot machines,
+the would-be burglar, threw himself upon an old mattress, and with two
+grimy fists in his eyes sobbed out his heart to the rafters above.
+
+It was not repentance for his sins, neither was it terror of the
+secret that was locked behind his inarticulate lips, although both of
+them had a part. It was because a beautiful young lady had taken his
+part, and put her arms about him, and refused to believe that he was
+as bad as Skeeter Sheeley said he was.
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER V
+
+
+During the rest of the week the rainstorm, that had started all the
+trouble, continued to hover ominously, breaking forth day after day in
+fierce, petulant showers. Out at Thornwood the aspect was most dreary;
+the low-lying ground in front of the house was under water for a
+quarter of a mile, trees, limp and draggled, stood disconsolate in an
+unfamiliar lake, the bridge below the dam was washed away, and horses
+going to the creek for water were constantly being caught by the
+current, and having to be rescued by ropes. In the flower garden
+dirty-faced little blossoms lay in the mud, vines trailed across the
+paths, all the fragrance and color seemed to be soaked out of
+everything by those continuous, pelting showers.
+
+Within the house it was not much gayer. The front hall, with its
+steep, narrow stairway, and floor-covering of highly ornate landscape
+oilcloth, was in a perpetual twilight. An occasional glint from white
+woodwork, or the gold molding of a picture, strove in vain to dispel
+the gloom. The parlor, at the right of the hall, was sepulchral with
+its window cracks stuffed with paper, and the shutters securely
+closed. To be sure, the living-room on the other side of the hall did
+its best to look cheerful, but even that comfortable spot with its low
+ceiling and battered mahogany furniture, its high cupboards flanking
+the wide, stone fireplace, and its friendly litter of every-day
+necessities, was not equal to the occasion.
+
+One afternoon when the Colonel came in from the chicken yard where he
+and Uncle Jimpson had constituted themselves a salvage corps, he
+surprised Miss Lady sitting in the dusk on the floor before the empty
+fireplace, with suspicious traces of tears upon her face.
+
+"Make a light," blustered the Colonel; "you mustn't sit around in the
+dark like this, you know. Where's my pipe?"
+
+She sprang up and found the missing article, and with a great show of
+cheerfulness lit the lamp and held the match out for him to light his
+pipe.
+
+"What's the matter?" asked the Colonel; "sort of trembly, ain't you?"
+
+"Me? Watch me!" She held the match very straight and very tight, then
+as it wavered, blew it out and dropped it down his sleeve. "There's
+some mail over there on the table for you, Daddy dear. Noah brought it
+down from town in his buggy."
+
+She said it very carelessly, and even enumerated the contents as she
+handed it to him:
+
+"Two circulars, a letter from the seed man, the _Confederate Veteran_
+and the newspapers."
+
+"Nothing for you?"
+
+"Nothing."
+
+Under his scrutiny Miss Lady's eyes fell, and she turned abruptly to
+the window, while the Colonel, mouth open, pipe in hand, watched her.
+
+He had never seen his girl like this in her life! What business had
+her lip to tremble in the middle of a sentence, or her eyes to brim
+with sudden tears, making her turn her back on her adoring Dad, and
+busy herself with the window curtain?
+
+Of course it is upsetting to have a friend, whom you have been seeing
+daily for a couple of weeks, get into trouble such as young Donald
+Morley had fallen into. It made even the Colonel feel bad, he didn't
+deny it. But what business had the kitten to be taking it all so to
+heart? Why was she called upon to champion this young stranger's cause
+so hotly, to resent every insinuation, and to contend! passionately
+that he would be able to explain everything? Morley had not explained.
+Three days had dragged past and nothing had been heard from him.
+Nothing probably would be heard from him! The Colonel wanted to feel
+victorious, but he did! not. Instead, he cast anxious and sympathetic
+glances at the back of his daughter's head, and surreptitiously wiped
+his small snub nose on the corner of his red-bordered handkerchief.
+
+He had a good mind to give up his trip to Virginia! To be sure, he had
+looked forward for months to celebrating Founders' Day at the old
+college. If it weren't for seeing all the old boys, he would stay at
+home. By George! the little girl came first; he would stay at home
+anyhow!
+
+"Those gloves," he burst out by way of breaking the news; "the thin
+ones I told you to mend. Well, you needn't mend them."
+
+"I haven't," said Miss Lady, "but I'll do it now."
+
+"Needn't mind. Won't need 'em. Fact is, I ain't going."
+
+"Yes you are," said Miss Lady, adding inconsequently, "Why not?"
+
+"Needed here at home. Roads washed out, everything out of fix. Decided
+to stay at home." Miss Lady wheeled from the window where she had been
+tracing the raindrops on the pane, and made a rush for him,
+establishing herself on his lap, as far as one could establish oneself
+on such a perpendicular surface.
+
+"You are not going to do anything of the kind. Uncle Jimpson is going
+to drive you in to town to catch the first train in the morning."
+
+"I ain't going," insisted the Colonel, shaking his head doggedly.
+
+"Yes you are. Where's your traveling bag?"
+
+"On the top shelf of the cupboard. But I'm not going." He said it
+firmly, but the next instant he asked, "Did Jimpson press my gray
+suit?"
+
+"Oh! Squire Daddy, I'm so sorry I forgot to tell him! I'll tell him
+now."
+
+"Too late!" the Colonel sighed in resignation; "no use talking any
+more about it."
+
+"Yes there is! Your enthusiasm's just gotten damp like everything
+else. I am going to tell Uncle Jimpson to make a little fire to cheer
+us up, then we'll all go to work to get you ready."
+
+It seemed to be a relief to her to bustle about and set things in
+motion. In a short while she had a cheerful blaze going on the hearth,
+and the curtains drawn against the dreary twilight without.
+
+The Colonel sat in the middle of the room, watching Uncle Jimpson and
+Aunt Caroline collect his scattered wardrobe, keeping a vigilant eye
+meanwhile upon Miss Lady. He simply did not intend to have her
+unhappy! It was preposterous! Altogether out of the question! His
+little girl crying around in corners where he couldn't see her? The
+idea of such a thing! If she must cry, what was the matter with his
+shoulder?
+
+"You ain't got but four hankchiefs in de wash, Cunnel," announced Aunt
+Caroline from her knees beside a large wicker basket. "Don't look lak
+dat's enough fer a white gem-man to start off on a trip wif."
+
+"Jimpson," the Colonel looked up reproachfully, "did you hear that?
+You have actually let me get down to four handkerchiefs."
+
+"And socks," continued Caroline, enjoying the opportunity of
+emphasizing the shortcomings of her lesser half, "'bout sebenteen, all
+singles. No two scarcely de same color."
+
+"Miss Lady, she been 'cumulatin' 'em to darn 'em," explained Jimpson,
+glad to shift responsibility. "She 'low she gwine to tak a day off
+some o' dese days, an' mend up ever'thing in de house."
+
+The Colonel glanced around: "Where is Miss Lady?"
+
+"Out in de hall, readin' de evenin' paper. Nebber did see dat chile
+tek so much notice ob de newspaper. Yas, sir, I'll call her."
+
+"Any later news of the shooting?" asked the Colonel casually, when she
+returned.
+
+"Yes, Mr. Dillingham was indicted and arraigned before the court. The
+case was passed until June first."
+
+"And Sheeley? What of his condition?"
+
+"The paper says he will lose his eye, but that he will probably get
+well."
+
+"And--and nothing has been heard of Morley?"
+
+"Not yet."
+
+After supper, when all the preparations for the trip were completed,
+and the cheerful presence of Uncle Jimpson and Aunt Caroline removed,
+the Colonel and Miss Lady sat before the dying fire, and tried to make
+conversation. Outside wet branches swept the windows, and sudden gusts
+of rain beat against the panes.
+
+"Thirty years since I saw some of the old boys," the Colonel said,
+trying to warm up to his coming journey. "I'll miss old Professor
+Queerington, but John Jay will be there. We are planning to come home
+together. Fine man, he is, fine man!"
+
+"Who? Oh, yes, Doctor Queerington."
+
+"Just a little boy when I boarded at his father's. He can't be much
+over forty now. The smartest man the old college ever turned out! And
+just as good as he's smart. A little too much book learning maybe, and
+not any too much common sense, but there ain't many heads built to
+carry both. He's sound though, sound to the core, and that's saying a
+good deal these days. What's the matter? Sleepy?"
+
+"No, just the fidgets. Say, Daddy, what do you suppose they will do
+with Mr. Dillingham, if he is convicted?"
+
+"Penitentiary offense, I hear. But Noah says they'll get him off. Old
+General Dillingham has plenty of money, and friends at court. He'll
+take care of his grandson."
+
+"But if he is cleared," began Miss Lady, "that throws the guilt on--"
+
+"Now see here," interrupted the Colonel, "you stop bothering your
+little head about that trial. Go over there and play me a couple of
+good old tunes, and then we'll both trot to bed."
+
+Miss Lady's soft untrained voice began bravely enough. She described
+with feeling the charms of Annie Laurie, and was half way through
+Robin Adair before she faltered, started anew, stumbled again, then
+came to an ignominious halt.
+
+"Tut! tut!" said the Colonel fussily, getting himself out of his chair
+in an incredibly short time for so stout a gentleman. "This won't do,
+you know; this ain't right!"
+
+"It's that silly old piece!" said Miss Lady petulantly. "It always
+works on my feelings."
+
+"But it wouldn't make you cry like this. Come, tell me."
+
+"There's nothing to tell--that is--"
+
+"Well, never mind then. Just cry it out. That's right. Don't mind me.
+Just your old Dad." And with much fussing and petting and foolish
+assurances that he was her Daddy, he got her over to the sofa. Sitting
+on the floor with her arms across his knees, she wept with the
+abandonment of a child, while his short, stubby fingers tenderly
+stroked her shining hair. At last when the storm had subsided and she
+was able to look up, he took her face between his hands.
+
+"Out with it, kitten!" he demanded. "What's troubling you? Don Morley
+business?"
+
+She kissed his nearest hand.
+
+"Thought so. You--you got to like him pretty well, eh?"
+
+She nodded between her sobs.
+
+"Better 'n most anybody?" he asked it jealously, but unflinchingly.
+
+"Except you, Daddy." It was a faint whisper, but it was reassuring.
+
+"And what about him?" the Colonel continued.
+
+Another burst of tears, then a resolute effort at self-control.
+
+"He meant to do what's right. I know he did! He promised to give up
+drinking and gambling and go to work."
+
+"He made a good start!" The Colonel knocked the ashes from his pipe.
+"And after he got into the fracas, what in thunder did he run away
+for? Why didn't he stay and face it out? Any fool would know that if
+Dillingham is cleared, the suspicion would all be on him."
+
+"But, Daddy, we haven't heard his side yet. If I could just hear from
+him, or see him."
+
+"See him!" he exploded. "What in the name of the devil do you want to
+see him for? No siree! Not while Bob Carsey's got any buckshot left in
+his gun! Do you think there's any chance of his prowling 'round here
+while I'm gone? That settles it! I'll not budge an inch. Tell Jimpson!
+Tell Caroline! Unpack my things."
+
+"But, Daddy, wait! He is probably out at the coast by this time.
+Besides, he hasn't written or sent any word. How do we know that...
+that he wants to come back?" "He'll try it all right. I saw how things
+were going. I saw how he looked at you. The impudent young hound!"
+
+"Daddy! Please don't! You don't know him. He will explain everything
+when he writes, I know he will!"
+
+"But he won't write! He won't have the face to. The idea of his going
+straight off from my girl, and getting mixed up in a scrape like this!
+You've got to promise me never to speak to the young scoundrel again!"
+
+"But if he explains?"
+
+"Why hasn't he done so? Because he can't. Besides, I don't want him
+to. We are through with him from now on. Promise me never to have
+anything more to do with him."
+
+She hesitated, and the Colonel began to fling the things out of his
+bag in great agitation.
+
+"Please, Squire Daddy!" She caught his hands, and looked at him, and
+something in her pleading eyes and quivering lips was so reminiscent
+of another face he had loved, that he broke down completely and had to
+have recourse to one of his four clean handkerchiefs that were still
+in the bag.
+
+He was an old fool, he declared between violent blowings of his nose,
+and clearings of his throat. Was only doing what he thought was his
+duty. Didn't mean to make her unhappy. Didn't have sense enough to
+bring up a girl. Had tried to, though! Always would try. Only she
+mustn't be unhappy; he couldn't stand that. It would kill him if she
+dared to be unhappy!
+
+And Miss Lady with her arms about his neck, making futile dabs at his
+streaming eyes with her little wet knot of a handkerchief,
+passionately declared that she would promise him anything under the
+sun, that she was going to be happy, that she _was_ happy!
+
+"Not yet," said the Colonel, with much mopping of his brow; "but you
+will be! We'll straighten it out. Soon as I get back, I'll take the
+matter up. Sift it clean to the bottom. We'll give Morley every chance
+to square himself. But 'til then, you won't see him if you can help
+it, or read his letters, if he writes? You don't mind promising me
+that much, do you?"
+
+"I promise, Daddy."
+
+Oh! the promises made for a day, and kept through the years, what a
+lot of tangled lives they have to answer for!
+
+Miss Lady put the Colonel's things back in his bag, and stooped to
+kiss him good night.
+
+"Sure you don't mind my going?", he asked, studying her face. "I'll be
+back Saturday night."
+
+"All right. Good-by, I won't be up in the morning when you start. Have
+a good time, Daddy dear, and--and don't worry about me."
+
+He lit her candle for her and carried it to the steps where he kissed
+her again.
+
+"My little girl," he whispered.
+
+The house grew still. Out on the landing the tall clock ticked off the
+hours to midnight; the fire died to an ember; from the porch without
+came the drip, drip, drip of the gutter. Still the Colonel sat in his
+split-bottom chair, his little eyes like watch fires in the gloom,
+listening for the faintest sound of restlessness from the room above.
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER VI
+
+
+The sudden light of publicity that had fallen upon the Cant-Pass-It
+saloon sent a glow over that entire region of Billy-goat Hill.
+Everybody had something to talk about, and everybody talked, except
+Chick.
+
+Phineas Flathers appointed himself headquarters for information, and
+devoted himself exclusively to arguing about the matter. Myrtella, his
+twin sister, who for fifteen years had presided over innumerable
+cooking ranges throughout the city, almost lost her new place through
+her interest in the affair.
+
+The one subject upon which Myrtella Flathers considered herself a
+connoisseur was murder. In sundry third floors back, she had for years
+followed the current casualties with burning interest. Realism,
+romance, intrigue, adventure, she found them all, in these grim
+recitals of daily crime.
+
+Myrtella and Phineas Flathers had been cast into the sea of life at an
+early age to sink or swim as they saw fit. Myrtella had survived by
+combating the waves, while Phineas adopted the less arduous expedient
+of floating.
+
+To him work appeared a wholly artificial and abnormal action, self-
+imposed and unnecessary. The stage of life presented so many
+opportunities for him to exercise his histrionic ability, that the
+idea of settling down to a routine of labor seemed a waste of talent.
+With far-reaching discernment he had early perceived that a straight
+part was not for him.
+
+In casting about for a field that promised the widest opportunity for
+his talent, he discovered the Immanuel Church in the city. Here
+philanthropy burned with such zealous enthusiasm that the harvest was
+not sufficient for the laborers. Phineas saw his chance and grasped
+it. He became a Prodigal Son.
+
+From that time on his sole vocation was attending church. Three times
+a week, regardless of the inclemency of the weather, he unwound his
+long legs from the chair rungs in the Cant-Pass-It, carefully smoothed
+his red hair, and made his way to a front pew in the Immanuel Church.
+At intervals, calculated to a nicety, he fell from grace, and was
+reclaimed, passing from periods of grave backsliding into periods of
+great religious fervor. Meanwhile he followed the Scriptures literally
+and took no thought of the morrow. His reliance in Providence and the
+Ladies' Aid became, in time, absolute.
+
+Nor did Phineas Flathers' self-respect suffer in the least by this
+mode of living. In no sense did he consider himself an incumbent. Did
+he not three times a week give a masterly presentation of "our needy
+poor," "our brother-in-misfortune"? Did he not freely offer up his
+family for each new church society to cut its wisdom teeth upon? Had
+Maria, his wife, not labored wearily through unintelligible tracts,
+and Chick, his adopted son, done penance in Sunday School, as often as
+three Sundays in succession? Considering all things, Phineas felt that
+the church got a great deal for its money.
+
+Myrtella Flathers, following another method, had for fifteen years
+fought every obstacle that crossed her path. She had left in her wake
+traditions of unexcelled cooking, and unparalleled cleanliness,
+together with a vanquished army of mistresses, housemaids,
+laundresses, and butlers. She belonged to the order of Cooks Militant,
+and she had long since won her spurs.
+
+Among the things which Myrtella in her sweeping condemnation of life
+in general disapproved, none loomed larger than her brother and his
+family. But the bond of blood, stronger than likes or dislikes, favor
+or prejudice, brought her back to him again and again, to share with
+him her substance, and to criticize his conduct.
+
+On this particular afternoon she had started out for Billy-goat Hill
+to hear about the shooting, and to break the news to the family, that
+she had gotten a new place. This happened with such regularity, that
+it would not have deserved attention, had not the astounding fact to
+be added that Myrtella was pleased. In her fifteen years of rebellious
+services she had never before approximated a place that gave
+satisfaction. To be sure there were dark and not-to-be-remembered
+instances where she had failed to give satisfaction herself, but
+usually it was the place, "the new place," with its varying code of
+musts and must-nots, that caused Myrtella to spend many of her days in
+the Intelligence Office, or on street-cars, or tramping through the
+streets in quest of that ever elusive "good home."
+
+She had started out on her pilgrimage in a fairly equable frame of
+mind, but before she got well under way, the wind had made her
+furious. It was a frisky March breeze that had gotten left behind and
+now wandered into May, bent on mischief.
+
+Myrtella tacked into it, like a sailing sloop, full rigged and all
+sails set, an angular, heavy-set person with a belligerent expression
+strangely at variance with the embarrassed, almost timid movements of
+her hands and feet. Short locks of straight black hair whipped across
+her face, her skirts, blown tightly back against her knees, bellied in
+the wind, while her wide-brimmed hat caught the full force of the
+blast, like a veritable top-sail.
+
+By the time she had taken three tacks to cross the common, and was
+ready to come about at the corner, there was a balloon jibe, that sent
+the sails all flapping against the mast, and left her in such a flurry
+of indignation, that she failed to see a string that stretched its
+insidious length, two inches above the pavement, from fence to curb.
+
+After her fall, instead of expiring of apoplexy, as might have been
+expected from her countenance, Myrtella picked herself up from the
+pavement and, peeping through a crack in the fence, smiled. It was an
+expression so unfamiliar to her features that they scarcely knew how
+to manage it.
+
+"I see you, Chick!" she said in a voice that strove to be gentle; "why
+don't you come on out here and speak to me?"
+
+Chick and Skeeter, recognized a significant bulge to the string bag
+which she carried, scrambled forth, the former skilfully evading her
+outstretched arm of welcome.
+
+"He says," interposed the ever-ready Skeeter, as his companion made
+queer noises in his throat, "that he never knowed it was you. He never
+went to trip you up. Honest to goodness! You ain't mad, are you?"
+
+"No, I ain't mad." Myrtella still smiled as she brushed the dust from
+her skirt. "Here's a orange I brought you, Chick. You ain't been sick,
+have you?"
+
+"Naw! He ain't been sick, but he took that bath you ast him to, and
+where's his nickel at?"
+
+Myrtella stood and watched the boys until the corner grocery swallowed
+them and their new nickel, then she sighed and turned into Bean Alley.
+
+There were no streets here, and an occasional rock or tin can were the
+only islands in a sea of mud. The Flathers' cottage, consisting of two
+rooms and a half attic, rested its weight against the cottage next it,
+with something of the blind reliance that Phineas Flathers rested upon
+the Church. On its other side it commanded an uninterrupted view of
+the Dump Heap, which was the background for all the juvenile social
+life of that section of Billy-goat Hill.
+
+Here ships were launched in mud puddles, flower gardens attempted in
+tin cans, and fierce wars waged between rival gangs; here embryo
+mothers played with stick and rag dolls, and aspirants for the circus
+performed acrobatic feats on the one bit of fence that had not tumbled
+down. And all this activity went on almost under the wheels of the
+dump carts that passed to and fro all day. Myrtella, picking her way
+through the mud, was just turning the corner of the Flathers' house
+when her eyes fell upon a broken window-pane stuffed with a woolen
+skirt which she had given to Maria to make over into trousers for
+Chick. She promptly jerked it out with a force that brought the glass
+with it, and by the time she reached the back door, her jaw was set
+and her brows knit.
+
+Considering the fact that the rear room was a composite kitchen,
+laundry, dining-room, pantry, coal house and cellar, the glances with
+which Myrtella swept the chamber and its one occupant, might have been
+a trifle less severe. It was a glance in which her individual
+abhorrence of dirt combined with her racial disapproval of "in-laws."
+
+In the one space in the room that was not preempted, Maria Flathers
+bent above a wash tub, feebly persuading black garments to become
+gray. That was all she asked of them. She was not ambitious. Ambition,
+like everything else, had been soaked out of her long ago by those
+hot, steaming suds that enveloped her the greater part of her waking
+hours, and left her physically, mentally, and morally limp. Her one
+strong instinct was motherhood; but five little Flathers, opening
+feeble eyes on their future environment, had become so discouraged
+that they promptly closed them again. It was as if they really could
+not stand the prospect of life in that home with Mr. and Mrs. Flathers
+for parents!
+
+Only Chick survived, the ash-barrel baby, who really was not theirs at
+all, but who having begun life in their back yard, continued as
+everything else continued when once established at the Flathers', for
+the simple reason that no one ever took the trouble to change the
+existing disorder of things.
+
+As Myrtella sailed wrathfully into port and docked at the door-step,
+Maria looked up with a gasp:
+
+"Law! Myrtella, you gimme a turn. I forgot this here was your
+afternoon off. I thought sure you was Sheeley's rent man."
+
+"Sheeley's?" repeated Myrtella, her curiosity getting the better of
+her temper, as she removed an old shoe and a flour sifter from the
+nearest chair and sat down.
+
+"Yes, he's our landlord, but he gits another man to collect. Guess you
+heard about his gittin' shot?"
+
+"Read every word that's been printed. Is he goin' to die?"
+
+"Not him. Ain't nothin' the matter with him 'ceptin' his eye is blowed
+out. My uncle, back home, got both his eyes--You, Chick!" this to an
+invisible presence that manifested itself only through a shower of
+pebbles that followed in the wake of a fleeing cat. "Go up to the
+saloon, Chick, and tell yer Pappy he'll have to come on home. Yer Aunt
+'Tella's here."
+
+"Don't look like he grows a inch a year," said Myrtella thoughtfully,
+watching him depart.
+
+"That there Mrs. Ivy's been after me agin to send him to the Widows
+and Orphans' Home. She says she can git him in, and they'll learn him
+to read and write."
+
+"Well, he ain't goin'! I guess as long as I'm a payin' the grocery
+bills, I got a right to say who'll eat the food! What's that you are
+hidin'?"
+
+Maria, who had been attempting to remove something surreptitiously
+from the table, looked apologetic.
+
+"It's one of them plaster casts, I'll be bound," Myrtella continued.
+"I might 'a' knowed you'd git the mate to the other one, and not a
+square inch of space in the house to set it on! What did you give fer
+it?"
+
+Mrs. Flathers withdrew her apron, and tenderly dusted the highly
+colored features of an Indian squaw, whose head-feathers reposed upon
+her arm. Then she placed it on a corner of the stove where its
+imposing dignity produced a momentary impression upon even the flinty
+Myrtella.
+
+"How much?" she demanded heartlessly.
+
+"A quarter down, and ten cents a week." Maria sighed. "'Twouldn't be
+no trouble at all if it wasn't for Phineas spending so much car-fare
+going to church and that bow-legged, onery rent-man, that comes
+sneakin' round here every week, acting like poor people just kep'
+money settin' 'round in jars waitin' fer the likes of him!"
+
+Maria's hatred of the rent man was the one emotion that seemed to be
+left in her withered bosom. To baffle him, to evade him, to anticipate
+his coming and be away from home, constituted the chief object of her
+existence.
+
+A bang of the gate announced the arrival of the head of the household,
+which was promptly followed by the strains of a hymn cheerfully
+whistled in rag-time.
+
+Phineas Flathers, after months of abstinence, had reached that period
+where he felt that not only his constitution, but his profession would
+profit by a temporary fall from grace. Solicitude for his moral
+welfare was beginning to flag at the Church; his regular attendance,
+his apparent absorption in the sermon, and his emotional execution of
+the hymns, all went to lift him from the class of interesting
+converts, to the deadly commonplace of regular members. Only that
+afternoon he had decided to revive interest in his case at any cost.
+He had just treated others, as he would have others treat him at the
+Cant-Pass-It, when he was summoned home to see his sister.
+
+He now presented himself in his own doorway, a hand on either side of
+the jamb, and bowed profoundly:
+
+"Miss Flathers! Pleased to meet you! I see you still continue to favor
+yourself in looks. Lost your place, I suppose?"
+
+"That's right, be insultin'!" Myrtella flared up haughtily; "throw it
+in my face that I'm hard to please, and ain't willin' to put up with
+any old place I come to."
+
+"Now I wouldn't put it that I was throwing it in yer face exactly,"
+began Phineas, anxious to propitiate.
+
+"Which means I'm a story-teller?" Myrtella squared herself for action.
+
+"Oh, come on along," coaxed Phineas; "no harm's meant. Go on an' tell
+us what you left fer."
+
+"Who said I'd left? Puttin' words in my mouth I never thought of
+utterin'! I ain't left, and what's more I ain't going to. I got a good
+place."
+
+Phineas whistled an aggravatingly attenuated note of surprise: "The
+lady you are working for must be a deef-mute."
+
+"She is. The same as you'll be some day. She's been dead three years."
+
+The triumph with which she made this announcement put a momentary
+quietus on Phineas, and enabled her to proceed:
+
+"It's a widower gentleman with three children that I'm cookin' for,
+and I ain't set eyes on one of 'em except at meal times since I hired
+to 'em. Queerington's their names, out on College Street, right around
+the corner from the Immanuel Church. He's a teacher or something, one
+of them bookwormy men, whose head never pays no attention to what the
+rest of him is doing. 'Take charge,' said he, 'of everything, do the
+ordering, and cooking, and don't bother me with nothing.'"
+
+"But does he bother you?" put in Phineas astutely; "that's the real
+point."
+
+"Wasn't I just tellin' you that he didn't? He's been off on a trip to
+Virginia; gets home to-night. I've got the whole house in the pa'm of
+my hand, from cellar to attic. Miss Connie, she's the oldest, as
+flighty as a pidgeon and head so full of boys she don't pay no
+attention to another livin' thing. Then there's Miss Hattie, the
+second one, jes' at that spiteful thirteen age, but so busy peckin' on
+her sister, she ain't no time left for me--"
+
+"Thought you said there was three children," put in Maria mildly.
+
+"I did. You didn't think I lied, did you? Always ready to snatch up a
+person's words before they git 'em out of their mouth! The third one
+is a boy, Bertie they call him, sick and spin'ly, but a right nice
+little fellow. Where'd Chick go?"
+
+"He's settin' out there on the door-step. Did you hear 'bout our
+shootin'?"
+
+"Maria was tryin' to tell me, but she didn't seem to have nothin'
+clear to tell. Who do you think done it?"
+
+Phineas Flathers, balancing himself on the hind legs of his chair,
+with his thumbs in the armholes of his vest, was nothing loath to
+launch forth into a full recital of the affair, embellishing it with
+many a flourish as he went along. In the bosom of his family he was
+freed from those bonds of restraint that embarrassed his utterance
+when in more formal society. The amount of profanity that he could
+dispose of in the course of an ordinary conversation was little short
+of astounding. This being more than an ordinary conversation and his
+mood being mellow, called for an extra vocabulary. He graphically set
+forth the facts in the case, then gave his imagination full sway in
+accounting for them. He interpreted the whole affair as a clash
+between capital and labor, a conflict between the pampered aristocrat
+and the common man. The shooting was the result of a deep-laid plan:
+Dillingham and Morley had met by appointment, moved by what motive he
+did not make clear, to kill Sheeley, an honest laboring man. Hadn't
+the one on horseback, that they say was Mr. Morley, stopped him at the
+crossing, on the very afternoon of the shooting, and engaged him in
+conversation? Phineas assured his listeners that he trembled even now
+when he thought of the danger he had been in!
+
+"I'd seed him afore that day a ridin' with a pretty young lady, that
+most got her neck broke under a engine, but this time he was by
+hisself, a settin' there on his horse, as proud as a king and stirrin'
+me up about the rich folks not allowing us poor working classes to
+have no streets out here. I suspicioned somethin' right then; says I
+to myself, 'he's got a handsome face but his mind is a well of
+corruption.' And when I heard he'd shot Sheeley ...Now what in thunder
+is the matter with you, Chick?"
+
+During this recital Chick had been sitting in the doorway, his knees
+drawn up to his chin, listening intently, but at this point he cried
+out in a sputter of protesting sounds.
+
+"It's the shootin', it's done got on his mind," explained Maria,
+winding her long thin hair into a yet tighter knot at the back of her
+head. "He takes on like that every time he hears us talkin' 'bout it,
+and nobody can't make out a word he's sayin'. Fer two or three days I
+couldn't scarcely git him to eat nothin'."
+
+"If your cooking ain't any better than it used to be I ain't
+surprised," Myrtella said. "How bad was Sheeley shot, Phineas?"
+
+"Oh, he'll be laid up fer a month yit. They say the retinue of his eye
+was cracked right across the middle. But that ain't worryin' Sheeley.
+He's livin' in style at the hospital, all his bills paid, and the
+swells lookin' after him. I hear he ain't even goin' to prosecute.
+They've fixed him all right; besides he don't want to git that fly
+young gang down on his place. He's countin' on startin' up them
+sparrin' matches ag'in, as soon as the police quit noticin' him. Say,
+Sis, you don't happen to have a quarter 'bout you, do you?"
+
+The peculiar persuasiveness of Phineas' voice when he threw out these
+financial suggestions, was very insidious. In some subtle way he made
+the favor all on the side of the recipient; he gave the donor, as it
+were, a chance to acquire merit.
+
+But Myrtella wore the armor of experience. "No, I ain't!" she said,
+taking a firmer grasp on her bag. "I'm payin' the grocery man now, and
+buyin' clothes for Chick. What good does it do? I no more than git his
+hide covered than you go and sell the clothes offen his back. When are
+you goin' to git a job?"
+
+"Well, you might say I had one now. Leastwise I'm a followin'
+Scriptures and bearin' one another's burdens. Jires, the flagman, over
+to the Junction has been laid up with rheumatism and he don't want the
+boss to know it. He sets in his box and hires me to go out and flag
+the trains like he tells me to."
+
+"How many trains a day?"
+
+"Two ups, three downs and a couple of freights."
+
+"Should think you'd die of the exertion. How much do you get?"
+
+"Oh, it ain't so much. But I ain't a ambitious man. What's the use of
+me a-slavin' and a-hordin' when I ain't got a child to leave it to? If
+Claude had a lived, or McKinley, I might 'a' had somethin' to work
+for."
+
+"You mean you'd 'a' had somethin' to work for you. The Lord certainly
+done a good job when he changed His mind about letting them babies
+live."
+
+"They're having onions next door fer supper," said Maria feebly, by
+way of diverting an old discussion. "I ain't been able to git 'em off
+my mind all afternoon."
+
+Chick, who had been sent to the grocery to see what time it was, came
+back holding up five fingers.
+
+"Gee, I got to be hiking!" said Phineas. "The passenger train from
+Virginia's due at five sixteen. It won't git here before a quarter of
+six, but I'm always there on the minute. That's what Jires pays me
+fer, fer bein' regular and reliable. Jes' let me get a regular habit
+and a clock ain't in it with me. Why, if I was to come in late at
+church, they'd stop the service!"
+
+"Well, don't you be gittin' a regular habit of comin' 'round to the
+Queeringtons!" was Myrtella's parting shot as he rose unsteadily.
+"When I got anything to say to you I'll come here."
+
+"That's right!" assented Phineas cordially; "you jes' make yourself at
+home. My home is your home. Maria'll tell you that I says to her only
+last night, I says, 'Maria, you needn't feel so cut up 'bout askin'
+Myrtella fer the rent this month, because this is her home, too. There
+ain't a board in it but I'd share with her, she knows that.' You tell
+her all I said, Maria, don't you keep back nothin'. Farewell!" and
+with an affectionate glance and a wave of the hand Phineas departed.
+
+Now if he had followed the straight and narrow path, indicated by the
+rocks and tin cans, that led to the Junction, instead of the broad
+highway indicated by the plank walk that led to the Cant-Pass-It, the
+tragedy that hovered over Billy-goat Hill might have been averted.
+
+But he had left the saloon in the midst of a heated controversy with
+two Italians, concerning the supremacy of America over all other
+nations. The fact that his country had never been proud of him in no
+way deterred him from being very proud of his country. Until the
+dispute was properly ended he felt that the honor of the nation was at
+stake.
+
+His patriotic fervor ran so high that by the time he reached the
+crossing, the passenger train was already in sight. Jires, helpless
+and terrified at his post, was distractedly shouting directions from
+his little sentinel box.
+
+"Flathers! There's a washout down the road! We've got to hold up the
+passenger train. Get out the red flag! Quick man! Be ready to signal
+the engineer. Three times cross ways! The red flag, you fool! the RED
+FLAG! Oh, my God!"
+
+For Phineas Flathers, to whom all flags now looked red, white and
+blue, was standing at the crossing, joyously waving a white flag,
+while the engineer with his hand on the throttle, released the brakes,
+and sent his train thundering down the grade to destruction.
+
+       *       *       *       *       *
+
+Meanwhile Myrtella, having finished her visit in a grand finale of
+pyrotechnics, in which she displayed Phineas to his wife in a number
+of blazing lifelike portraits, took her departure. It was not the
+first time she had faced the alternative of paying the rent, or seeing
+her only relative turned into the street, nor was it the first time
+that, after giving innumerable pieces of her mind to Maria, she had
+followed them up with the rent.
+
+All the way home she discussed the matter audibly with herself, and
+was still muttering darkly when she reached the Queeringtons'. So
+absorbed was she in her own wrongs that she did not notice that the
+front door stood open, and figures were hurrying about in the hall.
+
+As she let herself into the side door, a white-faced young girl, with
+her hair brushed straight back into a long braid, rushed through the
+pantry.
+
+"What's the matter, Miss Hattie?"
+
+The girl steadied herself by the banister. "It's father!" she said
+with chattering teeth. "There's been an awful accident just below the
+Junction. They can't even bring him home. They are taking him to a
+place out there, a Colonel Carsey's. Colonel Carsey was killed. He was
+sitting right by father. Oh! Myrtella, I'm so afraid father's going to
+die!"
+
+Myrtella standing helplessly before the terror-stricken girl, could
+find no words of sympathy. In fact she appeared even more formidable
+and bristling than usual.
+
+"Well, he ain't dead yet," she said shortly, "and any how, there ain't
+no reason why you shouldn't have supper. Trouble always sets heavy on
+a empty stomach."
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER VII
+
+
+The fatal accident which Phineas Flathers' misguided patriotism had
+precipitated, changed the course of many a life, but to none did it
+bring more far-reaching consequences than to the daughter of old Bob
+Carsey.
+
+Miss Lady could never clearly recall those first days after her
+father's death. They seemed to her a confused nightmare of strange
+doctors and nurses, of a strange man hovering between life and death
+in the guest-room bed, of strange people coming and going, or sitting
+in hushed groups on the stiff horsehair chairs in the hall, waiting
+for news. Two facts alone remained fixed in the whirling chaos of
+unrealities; her father was dead, and no letter had come from Donald
+Morley.
+
+Each day when the mail arrived she roused from her apathy, and with
+trembling fingers sorted out the letters, going over them again and
+again, and never finding the one she sought. Gradually beneath the
+poignant grief for her father, came the dull persistent pain of a
+first disillusion. The belief and loyalty with which she had started
+out to defend Donald began to weaken before his silence. In his
+trouble she had been ready to rush to him, to succor and forgive, but
+he had not called upon her. Now in her great need, she was calling to
+him, and he did not come. Suspicion began to crowd on the heels of
+doubt.
+
+Had he not acknowledged his instability? Had her father not seen it
+from the first? Was his desire to settle down in the country but one
+of the whims of which his life seemed made up? Perhaps she herself had
+only been a passing fancy, something wanted for the moment, but soon
+forgotten. At the end of a week her pride rushed to arms. Whatever
+reason he might offer now would come too late.
+
+The sudden plunge from irresponsible girlhood into this mysterious
+region of grief and doubt, where one must tread the thorny path alone,
+terrified and bewildered her. She did all the last sad, futile things
+one can do for the dead; then when all was over, fled from the
+confusion at Thornwood, and sought the silence of the woods. Here
+fierce outbursts of rebellious grief were followed by hours of apathy
+when she tramped for miles, seeing and hearing nothing, but urged on
+by an insistent desire to be in motion.
+
+It was at the end of one of these tramps that Noah Wicker found her
+late one evening, on the grass by the river, sobbing out her heart at
+the spot where the Colonel used to fish.
+
+Noah's words of comfort were as scarce as his other words, so he sat
+on a log near by and waited silently until she was ready to go home.
+At the stile, where he left her, he handed her a letter.
+
+"I got it at the station this noon," he said. "Thought I'd be over
+earlier, but didn't know if you wanted me."
+
+She did not hear him, the letter had come! Her fingers thrilled at its
+touch, and the warm blood surged to her heart. Without another thought
+for Noah, she sped up the walk to the house, where she locked herself
+into the living-room. Match after match sputtered and went out in her
+nervous fingers, before the lamp was lighted.
+
+He had written! He cared! He was coming! Over and over she whispered
+the words to herself. Then she looked at the postmark on the heavy
+envelope, and her heart sank. San Francisco! After all he was not
+coming back!
+
+Her eager finger was at the seal, when her eyes fell upon a briar-wood
+pipe that lay on the table beside a half-filled pouch of tobacco. In
+an instant she seemed to see a stubby brown hand reaching for it, the
+quick spurt of the match, the flare of light on an old weather-beaten
+face, then a deep-drawn breath of contentment as the Colonel settled
+back and held out his other hand to his little girl.
+
+And her last promise to him had been to do nothing until Donald's name
+should be cleared. She could keep her promise now, but could she after
+she had read Donald's letter? If the mere touch of it in her hand
+plead for him, what would the living words do?
+
+She looked hopelessly around the cheerful, homely room, every foot of
+which spoke to her of her father, and of his love for her. On the
+white door-frame were penciled the proud records he had made of her
+height on each successive birthday. On the walls were pictures of her
+he had treasured, from the time she was a round-eyed baby, to the
+present day. In the cupboard was a green box containing her first
+shoes, her little dresses, her first letter, her baby curls.
+
+Over the harpsichord was a portrait of the Colonel himself, painted
+before she was born. It represented a dashing, young sportsman,
+surrounded by his pack of hounds. Twenty years ago this gallant hunter
+had given up the chase, with many another joy, to minister to her baby
+needs, to share her joys and sorrows, and be father, mother, play-
+fellow, all in one.
+
+She clasped Donald Morley's letter tightly and closed her eyes. Never
+in her short life had she wanted to do anything so desperately as she
+wanted to read that letter, and yet the reading of it would mean
+breaking a promise to one whom she could never promise anything again.
+Her newly awakened love and her sense of justice pleaded hotly for
+Donald, but the empty room and her empty heart, and a passionate sense
+of loyalty to the dead, spoke mutely for her father.
+
+After all, nothing could justify those long days of silence, that
+failure on Donald's part to come to her in her trouble. Her father's
+judgment was probably right after all, and it was best she should put
+an end to the matter once and for all.
+
+Sobbing like a child, she kissed the letter again and again, and
+kneeling by the fire, held it to the flame, and watched it burn to
+ashes on the hearth.
+
+After that one dreary week followed another, with the same invasion of
+strangers, the same varying reports from the sick room. Gradually,
+however, the reports became more favorable, the tension eased,
+visitors became less frequent, and Thornwood began to settle down to
+its normal state.
+
+[Illustration: She held it to the flame, and watched it burn to ashes
+on the hearth]
+
+Owing to the nature of Doctor Queerington's injury, and the severe
+shock he had sustained, it was not thought best to move him to the
+city until he was stronger. The quiet country house was an excellent
+place for convalescence, and under the direction of his trained nurse
+he could be allowed to read and write, free from the annoyance that
+must beset him when once he returned home.
+
+This arrangement was listlessly agreed to by Miss Lady, who had no
+plans for the future, and dreaded another adjustment. She was
+singularly alone in the world, and too dazed for the present to know
+what her next step should be. The only thing of which she was certain,
+was that she would never leave Thornwood.
+
+On one of the first days that Doctor Queerington was allowed to sit
+up, she went in to see him. Her first impression in the darkened room
+was the kindly clasp of a hand, and a wonderful low voice that spoke
+words of comfort. Then gradually she saw the slender, over-serious
+face of a middle-aged man, with small eyes somewhat too close
+together, a broad intellectual forehead, and a firm, well-formed mouth
+that seemed a stranger to smiles.
+
+From that time on she found his room a refuge. He had been the unknown
+object of her admiration since she was a child, he was her father's
+friend, the last to be with him before his death, and he talked to her
+for hours about the great mysteries of life and death. He was the only
+person to whom she talked who never seemed to be in doubt.
+
+It was not the first time that the Doctor had proven a consoling
+presence in time of affliction. Where others conjectured, or evaded,
+he boldly affirmed. The universe to him was an open book, from which
+he enjoyed reading aloud.
+
+One morning, six weeks after the accident, Miss Lady came into his
+room with a handful of flowers and found him propped up in bed, his
+books about him, and a note in his hand.
+
+"I have a communication from my cousin, Mrs. Sequin," he said with the
+polite formality that was habitual to him. "It seems that she is going
+to honor me with a visit."
+
+"Mrs. Sequin?" Miss Lady wheeled so suddenly that she overturned the
+vase in which she was arranging the flowers. "Now see what I've done!
+I'll fix it, Miss Wuster; don't bother."
+
+It apparently required little self-control for the trained nurse to
+refrain from bothering. She was sitting with her heels firmly hooked
+under the rung of a straight-back chair, crocheting with passionate
+abandon. Filling hot-water bottles, taking temperatures, feeding
+patients, were mere interruptions to her real vocation of converting
+spools of linen thread into yards of linen lace.
+
+"She states her intention of coming to see me," the Doctor continued,
+"but I cannot decipher her hieroglyphics sufficiently to find out the
+time. Perhaps you can assist me."
+
+"Is this a D?" asked Miss Lady, looking over his shoulder.
+
+"I judge so; an adaptation of the Greek character. Why the art of
+handwriting should be considered obsolete, I am at a loss to--"
+
+"Oh, she says she is coming to-day," interrupted Miss Lady, "on the
+eleven train. I must go down and tell Uncle Jimpson to be at the
+station, and have Aunt Caroline put on another plate for dinner."
+
+"Then what are you going to do, my dear?"
+
+"I was going to the cemetery."
+
+"You would better come up here instead. In your mental state a person
+is very sensitive to environment. You should avoid everything that
+excites the emotions. I think you can trust me to know what is best
+for you just now?"
+
+"Indeed I can," Miss Lady said impulsively; "you have helped me more
+than anybody. Daddy would be so grateful if he knew."
+
+"He does know," announced the Doctor with the finality of one to whom
+all things have been revealed. "But we must not discuss these things
+now. Miss Wuster has just been reading me the account of young
+Dillingham's trial. Perhaps you have been following it?"
+
+"Yes," said Miss Lady without looking up.
+
+"It is a matter of especial interest to me," continued the Doctor;
+"especial regret I should say. Young Dillingham is engaged to be
+married to the daughter of my cousin whom I expect to-day, and the
+other young man involved, Donald Morley, is Mrs. Sequin's brother."
+
+"Well for the life of me," said Miss Wuster, counting stitches between
+her sentences, "I can't see how they got Mr. Dillingham off, unless it
+was the way Mr. Gooch said."
+
+"Who is Mr. Gooch?" asked Miss Lady of the Doctor.
+
+"The gentleman who came to see me yesterday. He is a lawyer and has
+followed the case closely. He does not scruple to affirm that the
+trial was a farce, one of those legal travesties that sometimes occur
+when a scion of a rich and influential family happens to transgress
+the law. It seems that the saloon-keeper, who was at first reasonably
+sure of what happened, suffered a strange lapse of memory when on the
+stand. Gooch thinks he was bought up, but Gooch is fallible where
+human motives are involved. His misanthropy invariably colors his
+judgment."
+
+"Well, nothing on earth can keep me from thinking that Mr. Dillingham
+did the shooting!" declared the nurse with violent partizanship. "Look
+at the way he sneaked home, and left the other young man to get a
+doctor and help move Sheeley to the hospital. Yes, sir, it's time for
+your medicine, just wait 'till I finish this spool and I'll go down
+and heat the water."
+
+"He--he oughtn't to have gone away?" said Miss Lady, looking at the
+Doctor interrogatively.
+
+"Donald, you mean? Certainly not, it was most ill-advised, probably
+some quixotic idea about not wanting to testify against his friend. If
+you knew the boy you would understand what a hot-headed, harum-scarum
+person he is. He was my pupil at one time and I grew quite fond of
+him. He has ability, undoubted ability, but he is a ship without a
+rudder; he has been drifting ever since he was born."
+
+"This acquittal of Mr. Dillingham puts the blame on--on him, doesn't
+it?"
+
+"Naturally. His absence at the trial was undoubtedly one of the
+strongest arguments in Dillingham's favor. Mr. Gooch tells me that the
+counsel for the defense took especial pains to throw suspicion upon
+Donald. The case has been confusing in the extreme, the absence of
+witnesses, the failure to establish the ownership of the pistol, the
+absurd complication about the slot machine and crowbar,--an absolute
+jumble of contradictory evidence. As for Donald Morley's being guilty,
+it's absurd! He is not the sort of man who runs away from punishment."
+
+Miss Lady's heart swelled with gratitude. Of course Donald Morley was
+nothing to her now. She had assured herself of that so continuously
+for two months that she was beginning to believe it. She knew that he
+was wild, reckless and unreliable, that he had failed her in her
+greatest need, and that she had put him out of her life forever. But
+it was good of the Doctor to take his part!
+
+"I know now what my father meant when he said you were the justest man
+he ever knew!" she said timidly, lifting a pair of shining eyes.
+
+"Unfortunately for Donald the Court does not share my opinion. It is
+not known even by the family as yet, but Mr. Gooch tells me that
+Donald has been indicted by the grand jury."
+
+"Indicted!"
+
+"Yes, he can never return to Kentucky without standing his trial. It
+is a serious affair for him, I fear."
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER VIII
+
+
+When in the course of the morning Uncle Jimpson started to the station
+to meet Mrs. Sequin, he did not have to direct the course of his
+steed. Had old John not known the way from experience, the inherited
+memory of his ancestors would have prompted him to turn twice to the
+right, once to the left, and pull up at a certain corner of the
+station platform. For the honor of being the Carseys' "station horse"
+had descended to him from his father Luke, whose father Mark had in
+the days of prosperity traveled in harness with Matthew, fulfilling
+that same important office. Thus John was, in a way, enjoying the
+distinction of apostolic succession.
+
+Arrived at the station Uncle Jimpson stepped jauntily around the post-
+office box and ostentatiously took out the Carseys' mail. It was a
+small act to take pride in, but in lieu of more important duties it
+had to serve. For the past six weeks the advent of city people at
+Thornwood had stirred up old ambitions in him. A new sprightliness was
+observable in his gait, a briskness in his speech, which Aunt Caroline
+did not hesitate to characterize as "taking on airs."
+
+The blood of a butler coursed through Uncle Jimpson's veins, a
+stately, ebony butler who had been wont to stand at the Thornwood door
+during the old days and hold a silver tray covered with boutonnieres,
+for the arriving guests. Uncle Jimpson had inherited this tray along
+with an ambition that was not above buttons. Year after year he had
+descended with the descending Carsey fortunes, passing from the house
+to the horses, then to the field, and finally becoming the man of all
+work, but never relinquishing that dream of his youth, to stand in
+livery in the halls of the rich, and exercise those talents with which
+Providence had blessed him.
+
+As he passed the compliments of the day with two farm hands, who were
+loading a wagon near by, his eye fell upon a strange object that stood
+in the door of the dining-room. It looked to Uncle Jimpson like
+pictures he had seen of lions, only it was small and white and barked
+remarkably like a dog.
+
+"Dat sure am a curious lookin' animal," he observed. "Hit must b'long
+to a show."
+
+One of the farm hands laughed and pointed with his thumb to the
+waiting-room. Uncle Jimpson tiptoed to the window and peered in. All
+that he could see was the back of a very imposing lady and the top of
+a large plumed hat.
+
+"Is--is she a-waitin' fer anybody?" he whispered, motioning anxiously
+with his soft hat.
+
+"Oh! no," said the nearest man; "she ain't waitin'; she's just
+enjoyin' the scenery on them railroad posters. She likes to set there,
+been doin' it for a half hour."
+
+Uncle Jimpson scraped the mud from his shoes, buttoned the one button
+that was left on his linen coat, and dropping his hat outside the door
+summoned courage to present himself.
+
+"'Scuse me, mam, but does dis heah happen to be Mrs. Sequm?"
+
+"It is," said the lady, haughtily.
+
+"Yas'm, dat's what I 'lowed. Dat's what I tole Carline--leastwise
+dat's what I'st gwine tell her. Ise Cunnel Carsey's coachman."
+
+Mrs. Sequin eyed him coldly through a silver lorgnette. "Didn't they
+understand that I was coming on the eleven train?"
+
+"Yes'm, dat's right. But you allays has to 'low fer dem narrow gauges.
+Dey has to run slow to keep from fallin' offen de track. Dat must have
+been de ten o'clock train you come on."
+
+"Not at all, I left the city at ten minutes of eleven."
+
+"Yas'm, dat was de ten train den. De leben train don't start 'til long
+about noon."
+
+"Preposterous!" said Mrs. Sequin, sweeping to her feet. "Take me to
+the carriage. Fanchonette! Where are you?"
+
+Uncle Jimpson apologetically dragged forward his left foot, upon the
+trouser hem of which the small dog had fastened her sharp little
+teeth.
+
+"Frightfully obstinate little beast," said Mrs. Sequin, "she won't let
+go until she gets ready. You needn't be afraid of her biting you. She
+couldn't be induced to bite a colored person."
+
+Uncle Jimpson, carrying the dog along on his foot, led the way, while
+Mrs. Sequin, with the cautious tread of a stout person used to the
+treacheries of oriental rugs on hardwood floors, followed. She was a
+woman of full figure and imposing presence, whose elaborate coiffure
+and attention to detail in dress, gave evidence that the world had its
+claims.
+
+At sight of the shabby, old, mud-covered buggy, and the decrepit
+apostolic John she paused.
+
+Jimpson all obsequious politeness, put a linen duster over the wheel,
+and with a gesture worthy of Chesterfield, handed her in.
+
+"I wish the top up," she commanded. "The glare is unspeakable."
+
+Uncle Jimpson, standing by the wheel, shuffled his feet in
+embarrassment: "Yas'm," he agreed, "I'll put it up effen you want me
+to. But it won't stay up. No, mam, it won't stay. Looks lak in de las'
+two or three years it got a way o' fallin' back. Cunnel 'lowed he was
+gwine to git it fixed onct or twict, but he ain't done it."
+
+Fanchonette just here became enraged at a bit of paper that was caught
+in the wheel, and gave vent to such a violent burst of temper that it
+required the undivided attention of her mistress to calm her.
+
+Uncle Jimpson, occupying the smallest possible portion of the seat,
+and with one leg hanging outside the buggy, rejoiced in the proximity
+of so much elegance. It gave him a feeling of prosperity and
+importance, and made him straighten his back, crook his elbow, and
+even adopt a more formal manner with old John. He deeply regretted
+that he had not put on a clean coat and as for the buggy, he was
+already planning a thorough cleaning of it before driving the stylish
+guest back in the afternoon.
+
+"Stop a moment!" commanded Mrs. Sequin peremptorily. "What a view! I
+had no idea there was such scenery anywhere around here!"
+
+"Yas'm, hits about de fines' sceneries in de world! You kin see from
+dem heights clean down to de bridge. All dis hill used to be our-alls.
+I 'member hearin' how Mr. Rogers Clark done gib it to de Cunnel's
+gran'paw fer a lan' grant when de Injuns libed here!"
+
+"Who owns it now? Who owns the hilltop?"
+
+"I don't know, mam. We been sellin' off considerable."
+
+"Well, I must find out about that at once. I'll send an agent out to-
+morrow to look into the matter. Colonel Carsey left only one daughter,
+I believe, and she never married?"
+
+Uncle Jimpson jerked the reins and looked a bit nettled.
+
+"Not yit," he said, "but she ain't no old maid, Miss Lady ain't. Dere
+neber wuz a Carsey lady yit dat withered on de stalk; de trouble wif
+_dem_ is dey git picked too soon. Ez fer Miss Lady's ma, she wasn't
+but jes turned sebenteen when me an' de Cunnel went down to Alabama to
+marry her."
+
+"Who are Miss Carsey's relatives, her advisers?"
+
+"She ain't got none. She didn't hab a livin', breathin' soul but her
+paw, 'ceptin' me an' Carline, an' Carline's liable to drop off mos'
+anytime."
+
+"But who is going to live with her?"
+
+"I spec she gwine git married some day," Jimpson said hopefully, "all
+de boys been plumb 'stracted 'bout dat chile since she wuz a little
+girl. But she wuz so crazy 'bout her paw, she jes laff at 'em. Now de
+Cunnel's gone, she'll hab to git somebody else to make ober."
+
+"Well, I must find out about that hill," said Mrs. Sequin, turning for
+a last glimpse. "Whose old place is this we are coming to?"
+
+"Dis is our place, dis is Thornwood," said Uncle Jimpson, half in
+pride, half in apology, as he skirted the holes in the road. "It don't
+look lak itself. It's a terrible pretty place when it's fixed up."
+
+"Dreadfully run down," said Mrs. Sequin to herself, making a sweeping
+survey of the premises, "all this front lawn ought to be terraced and
+have granitoid walks and formal approaches. The house could be made
+quite imposing."
+
+They had turned in the long winding avenue, and were following the old
+gray wall that swept in a wide circle past the negro cabins, then
+toward the house.
+
+Suddenly Mrs. Sequin pointed dramatically to the little porch of one
+of the cabins.
+
+"A Sheraton! Great heavens! Where did it come from? What is it doing
+there?"
+
+Uncle Jimpson, following the direction of her finger, looked
+surprised: "Dat ain't no sheraton, dat's a sideboard. Leastwise it wuz
+one 'fore I fixed it into a chicken coop. I took out de drawers and
+put on dem cross-pieces. Got forty de purtiest little chickens you
+eber seen!"
+
+"And the legs are curved and have knobs, haven't they?"
+
+"No, mam, dey ain't no more bow-legged dan most chickens. Do you raise
+chickens on your place?"
+
+"No, but we may when we get to the country. By the way, you don't
+happen to know of a good colored man around here, do you? One who
+understands horses, and would look well in livery?"
+
+Uncle Jimpson's eyes set in their sockets. Old John and the rattling
+buggy faded from his consciousness. In their place he saw himself on
+the box seat of a grand Victoria, in a double-breasted coat and high
+hat, lightly shaking the reins across the backs of two sleek
+thoroughbreds. It was even more alluring than his cherished dream of
+butlerhood! Already he felt his swelling chest strain against the gold
+buttons!
+
+But what about Miss Lady? Who was going to stay at Thornwood and take
+care of her? Domestic infelicities had rendered him callous to Aunt
+Caroline's claims, but Miss Lady, his "little Missis"?
+
+"No, mam," he said dejectedly as he assisted Mrs. Sequin to alight. "I
+can't say ez I do, not jes' at present. Sometime I might heah ob a
+good man, say 'bout my size an' build. You, Mike!"
+
+Mike had rushed at the small poodle with the apparent intention of
+swallowing her at a mouthful, but at Uncle Jimpson's stern reproof he
+snapped at a fly instead, and tried to give the impression that that
+was what he was after all along.
+
+"Ain't you 'shamed ob yourself?" Uncle Jimpson muttered. "Fussin'
+'round here an' stickin' out yer lip at white folks? Come on 'round
+back where you b'longs. You an' me is corn-field niggers, dat's all we
+is!"
+
+And with that irritable dejection that often follows self-sacrifice,
+Uncle Jimpson limped away with the subdued Mike skulking at his heels.
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER IX
+
+
+As Mrs. Basil Sequin swept up the broad steps at Thornwood, she
+congratulated herself upon a duty about to be accomplished. She had
+not foregone a bridge luncheon to make this tiresome trip to the
+country for purely altruistic reasons. She had come to prove to
+herself, and to her circle, the bond of friendship that existed
+between her and her distinguished cousin. Experience had taught her
+that an occasional reference to "my favorite cousin, John Jay
+Queerington, the author, you know," had its influence. "His is the
+only great intellect," she was fond of telling her husband, "to which
+I am related either by blood or marriage."
+
+Doctor Queerington's reputation was one of those local assumptions
+that might be described as prenatal rather than posthumous. It was
+what he was going to be, that made his name an awe-inspiring word in
+the community, more than what he was already. It was the conviction of
+his friends and colleagues that a tardy world would too late recognize
+his genius.
+
+After waiting impatiently for some one to respond to her vigorous use
+of the heavy knocker, Mrs. Sequin tucked Fanchonette under her arm and
+pushed open the door. The hall had doors to right and left, but before
+making further investigations she paused to examine minutely the tall
+mahogany clock, and the quaint silver candlesticks that stood on an
+old table at the foot of the steps.
+
+While bending to inspect the latter, she heard a door open, and
+looking up saw a pretty, slender girl in a short white petticoat and a
+sleeveless black dress lining, which displayed a pair of remarkably
+shapely arms.
+
+"Oh, I didn't know you had come!" exclaimed the young person,
+cordially extending a smiling welcome. "What a darling little dog! Is
+he a poodle?"
+
+"She is a French poodle," said Mrs. Sequin with a manner intended to
+impress this exceedingly casual person. "Where shall I find my cousin,
+Doctor Queerington?"
+
+"The front room up-stairs, on that side. I'd go up with you, only Miss
+Ferney Foster, our neighbor, is fitting this lining and she has to get
+back to her pickles. I wish we were born feathered like birds, don't
+you?"
+
+Mrs. Sequin, who had a masculine susceptibility to a pretty face,
+could not repress a smile.
+
+"I know this lining looks queer," went on the girl with an answering
+twinkle. "But it doesn't look any queerer than it feels. Miss Ferney
+doesn't know what's the matter, and neither do I. Would you mind
+taking a peep at it up there between the shoulders? I'll hold the
+doggie."
+
+To her surprise, Mrs. Sequin found herself removing her gloves, and
+adjusting a badly cut lining across a smooth white neck, while the
+girl before her, having shifted all responsibility, fell to making
+love to the poodle which she cuddled in her arms.
+
+"It's too tight here," said Mrs. Sequin, pinning and adjusting, "and
+too loose there. Have her take up the side seams to the place I have
+marked, and lengthen the shoulder seams at least an inch."
+
+"Thank you so much. It feels heavenly now. You go right up-stairs! You
+can take your things off in my room, if you like, just across the hall
+from the Doctor's." And without further ceremony the young hostess
+went tripping down the hall, leaving Mrs. Sequin to ascend the stairs
+alone.
+
+Ascending was one of Mrs. Sequin's chief accomplishments. Twenty-five
+years' experience on the social ladder had made her exceedingly
+surefooted. Her reward now was in sitting on the top rung and
+dictating arbitrarily to all those below. She had acquired a passion
+for dictating, for arranging, and setting in order. The crooked seams
+which she had just pinned straight gave her a satisfaction that almost
+counteracted her annoyance at the informality of her reception.
+
+Once established at the Doctor's bedside, with the nurse detailed to
+exercise Fanchonette in the yard below, she gave herself up to the
+pleasure of recounting at length her troubles of the past few months.
+She enjoyed talking, as a prima donna enjoys singing: she loved to
+hear the cadences of her own voice, and to watch the gestures of her
+jeweled hands.
+
+"It's an unspeakable relief," she assured the Doctor, "to actually see
+with my own eyes that you aren't a mangled cripple from the terrible
+wreck! You can't imagine how frightfully anxious I've been, but then
+this whole spring has been a veritable nightmare. Donald and Lee
+Dillingham both involved in this unspeakable scrape, Margery on the
+verge of nervous prostration, you perhaps fatally injured, and Basil
+Sequin too engrossed in his own affairs to give mine a moment's
+consideration."
+
+"Basil has grave responsibilities as president of the People's Bank,
+Katherine," said the Doctor, keeping his fingers between the leaves of
+the massive volume which he had regretfully closed at her entrance.
+"I, for one, owe him a debt of gratitude for relieving me of all
+financial anxiety. Besides you are always thoroughly capable of taking
+the reins in a family crisis."
+
+"Yes, but it's telling on me. I notice it in bridge. I am not the
+player I was a year ago. This trial of Lee Dillingham's has been a
+hideous strain. Of course, if he had been convicted, I should have
+compelled Margery to break her engagement, and that would have
+complicated things frightfully. You know his grandfather, the old
+general, is the largest stockholder in the People's Bank, and Basil
+insists that he must not be offended. That was one reason why I was so
+anxious to keep Don out of the way. Even if Lee was guilty, Don
+couldn't appear against him when he was engaged to Margery. The only
+possible course was to hush up the entire affair with as little
+publicity as possible. Thank heaven, General Dillingham has gotten Lee
+off, and I am beginning to breathe again."
+
+"And you have heard nothing from Donald?"
+
+"No, indeed, and I hope I won't for the present. I wrote immediately
+after the shooting to every place I could possibly think of his going,
+and implored him, if he had a grain of gratitude for me, or affection
+for Margery, that he would keep away, and not even let his whereabouts
+be known until this wretched affair had blown over. I can nearly
+always appeal to Don on the score of gratitude. I must say for him
+that, like the rest of the Morley men, he sows his wild oats like a
+gentleman. You remember Uncle Curtis? They said at the club he was a
+frightful drinker, and yet not a woman of his family ever saw him
+intoxicated. Then look at Grandfather Morley!" Mrs. Sequin was mounted
+on a favorite hobby. She had a large and varied collection of family
+skeletons, some of rare antiquity, which she delighted in exhibiting.
+She could recount the details of the unfortunate matrimonial alliances
+on both sides of the family for generations back, and was even more
+infallible in the matter of birth dates than the family Bible. If a
+relative by any chance got a trifle confused, and acknowledged to
+thirty-nine next June instead of last June, Mrs. Sequin pounced upon
+the error like a cat on a mouse. She could prove to him immediately
+that he was born the spring that Uncle Lem Miller died, and that was
+the same year that Grandmother Weller married the second time,
+therefore he _was_ thirty-nine _last_ June.
+
+"Donald ought to return at once," declared Doctor Queerington, when
+she paused for breath; "if he is guilty, he ought to take his
+punishment; if innocent, as I believe, he ought to be vindicated."
+
+"Well, we can't find him," said Mrs. Sequin with resigned
+cheerfulness. "He is probably in the Orient with Cropsie Decker. What
+a magnificent bed this is! Do you suppose I could buy it? Country
+people nearly always prefer new furniture."
+
+The suggestion of a smile hovered over the Doctor's thin lips:
+"Thornwood's possessions, I imagine, are not for sale."
+
+"I suppose the extraordinary young person I met in the front hall was
+Miss Carsey? What sort of a girl is she, anyhow?"
+
+"Miss Lady?" The Doctor shifted his pillow. "An extremely nice girl, I
+believe. Exceedingly sympathetic and attentive to all my wants, and
+receptive to a remarkable degree. She has been reading to me daily,
+and I find rather an unusual mind, undisciplined of course, but
+original and interesting."
+
+"But what amazing manners the child has! She greeted me in her bare
+arms, and asked me to fit a dress for her when she had never seen me
+before in her life. But she certainly is pretty! I haven't seen as
+pretty a creature for years."
+
+"Indeed!" said the Doctor, adjusting his eyeglasses. "I had not
+observed it, especially. A fine, frank countenance, with dark eyes--
+yes, I believe I did notice that she had chestnut eyes of unusual
+clearness; I remember I did notice that."
+
+"What is she going to do? Who is going to stay with her?" asked Mrs.
+Sequin. "Fancy a girl like that buried here in the country! Properly
+dressed, and toned down a bit, she'd make a sensation. I shouldn't at
+all mind asking her in to spend a few days with me sometime. You know
+I adore young people, and poor Margery, like all the other last year
+debutantes, is simply done for. Hasn't a spark of enthusiasm for
+anything. I hope you have not forgotten the fact that your Constance
+ought to come out this winter?"
+
+"My dear Katherine," said the Doctor with an air of enforced patience,
+"you do not seem to realize that my time and mind are engrossed in far
+greater things than society. I hope in the next year to complete the
+fifth and last volume of my 'History of the Norman Influence on
+English Literature and Language.' If I have been able to give my
+children very little of my time and attention, it is only because of
+my desire to leave them something of far greater worth--a name that I
+trust will stand among those of the foremost English scholars of my
+day."
+
+Mrs. Sequin soothed her irritation by studying her highly polished
+nails. "Of course, that will be an advantage to them. But what on
+earth's to become of them in the meanwhile? Heaven knows what Hattie
+will develop into if she isn't taken in hand. She refuses to have
+trimming on her underclothes now, and wears boy's shoes. As for
+Constance! I've quite despaired of getting hold of her. She's simply
+running wild, making no social connections whatever. What they really
+need, Cousin John, is a mother."
+
+"I must try to look after them more," the Doctor said, somewhat
+helplessly. "Have you seen them recently?"
+
+"I came by there this morning. They were all well, I suppose; Connie
+was at the Ivy's as usual, and Hattie at school. What a savage
+creature your new cook, Myrtella, is. I believe she is an anarchist!
+She opened the door only a crack, and when I asked her how the young
+ladies were, she said she was sure she didn't know, that she hadn't
+asked them."
+
+"And Bertie, did you see Bertie?"
+
+"Yes, he was with her. Had a dirty piece of dough in his hands which
+he said was going to be a cake. I must say she seems good to Bertie,
+but I would not tolerate her impertinence for a moment."
+
+"Myrtella carries concealed virtues," said the Doctor. "She is an
+excellent cook, and a good manager. Her only faults, apparently, are
+faults of the disposition."
+
+"From which Heaven defend me! What on earth is that noise? It sounds
+as if some one were kicking the door."
+
+"Please open!" called a voice from without, and as Mrs. Sequin
+complied, Miss Lady came in, carrying a large luncheon tray gaily
+decorated with flowers from the garden.
+
+"'Blest be those feasts with simple plenty crowned,'" quoted the
+Doctor. "You see how they spoil me, Katherine?"
+
+"I don't believe he could be spoiled, do you, Mrs. Sequin?" Miss Lady
+asked, as she fixed his eggs. "Is there anything else, Doctor?"
+
+"Don't run away," Mrs. Sequin said, following her movements with frank
+admiration. "Come here and sit down, I want to talk to you. I've
+discovered the ideal site for my new house, and I want to ask you
+about it. You know the western crest of this hill overlooking the
+river; did that belong to your father?"
+
+"It all used to be ours, long before it was ever called Billy-goat
+Hill."
+
+"The name _is_ a handicap," said the Doctor. "You might modify it,
+Katherine, by calling your prospective mansion 'Angora Heights.'"
+
+"The very thing," said Mrs. Sequin, eager to seize upon any suggestion
+that emanated from the Queerington intellect. "But who does the ground
+belong to?"
+
+"It belongs to Mr. Wicker, now."
+
+"Wicker?" repeated Mrs. Sequin. "Where have I heard that name? Why,
+Cousin John, wasn't that the man Don stayed with, when he was looking
+for a farm? How we laughed over that absurd notion of his farming!"
+
+"I did not laugh at it," said the Doctor. "I encouraged him. It seemed
+to me the most excellent idea!"
+
+"But you did not allow for Don's fickleness. Of course he's a darling
+fellow but he has had as many hobbies as he has had sweethearts."
+
+"I allowed for his character, which may yet strike root in the proper
+soil," the Doctor said with dignity; then turning to Miss Lady, who
+had risen and was standing by the bed, her hands tightly clasped and
+her eyes fixed on his, he explained: "We are speaking of the young
+brother of Mrs. Sequin; I was telling you about him this morning. Why,
+child!" For Miss Lady had suddenly dropped her face in her hands and
+made a rush for the door.
+
+"It's the shock of her father's death," explained Mrs. Sequin, who
+prided herself on divining motives. "I was like that for weeks when my
+last dog was run over. The most casual thing would upset me. I lost
+two games of cards one afternoon because somebody merely mentioned an
+ice wagon."
+
+The Doctor's long, slender fingers drummed absently on the bedspread.
+Presently he broke in quite irrelevantly on Mrs. Sequin's steady flow
+of talk: "I said chestnut brown, Katherine, they are more of a hazel,
+I should say, a deep hazel with considerable fire."
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER X
+
+
+The long, summer months dragged their length for Miss Lady, months of
+heartache and rebellion, of loneliness and tears. Then came a day
+when, without apparent reason, the shadows lifted. She was tramping
+across the river flats, with Mike at her heels, when once again she
+heard the world singing, and before she knew it an answering song
+sprang to her lips.
+
+Uncle Jimpson, plowing near by, looked up and smiled:
+
+"Dat's right, Honey; sounds lak ole times to hear you singin' ag'in. I
+was jus' settin' here steddyin' how good I'd feel ef de Cunnel could
+come a stompin' 'long an' gimme one of his 'fore-de-war cussin's fer
+bein' lazy."
+
+"Oh, Uncle Jimpson, if he could! It seems so long since he left us. I
+have just been over to Miss Ferney's, but she wasn't there. I want to
+get her to come and stay with me until I know what I am going to do.
+They expect to take the Doctor home to-morrow."
+
+"Yas'm, Carline was tellin' me. Looks to me lak he's been well enough
+to go fer some time." Uncle Jimpson scratched his head wisely.
+
+"I don't know what's to become of us," said Miss Lady ruefully
+twisting Mike's ears. "They say unless I sell the rest of Thornwood,
+we won't have money enough to live on. But I won't sell another acre.
+I'll teach school first."
+
+Uncle Jimpson was scandalized: "Now, Miss Lady, chile, don't you git
+dem notions in your head. Dem's ole maid notions, you ain't no ole
+maid yit! Why don't you git married, and git a kerridge, an' I'll
+dribe an' Carline'll cook an' tak' care de chillun."
+
+"I'm _never_ going to marry, Uncle Jimpson," Miss Lady declared, with
+the passionate assurance of youth. "And I am never going to leave
+Thornwood. If you see Miss Ferney going down the road, ask her to stop
+by a minute. Come on, Mike, we are late now."
+
+And they were late, five minutes, by the open-faced watch that lay in
+the Doctor's hand as they entered the garden. He was sitting in his
+wheel-chair with his books and manuscripts on a table at his elbow,
+and he lifted an expectant face toward the gate as she entered.
+
+It was strange what two months at Thornwood had done for the Doctor.
+He had been brought there unconscious, a serious, middle-aged
+professor, who had run in the same groove for twenty years. The same
+surroundings, the same people, the same monotonous, daily routine had
+rendered him as rusty and faded as the text-books he lived with.
+Nothing short of a collision could have jolted him out of his rut, and
+the collision had arrived.
+
+The sudden change from the grim realism of a lecture platform, with
+its bleak blackboard and creaking chalk, to the romance of an old
+flower garden where blossoms flirted with each other across the
+borders, and birds made love in every bough, was enough to freshen the
+spirit of even a John Jay Queerington. His cosmic conscience, which
+usually worked overtime, striving to solve problems which Nature had
+given up, seemed to be asleep. His fine, serious face relaxed somewhat
+from its austerity, and as the days passed he read less and observed
+more.
+
+His observations, before long, resulted in a discovery; he, who was so
+weary of the cultivated hothouse species of femininity, had chanced
+quite by accident upon a rare, unclassified wild-flower, that piqued
+his curiosity and enlisted his interest. For two months he had
+depended almost entirely upon his young hostess for companionship, and
+the fact that the large box of books he had ordered from the city
+remained unopened, gave evidence that the Doctor had not been bored.
+
+During the hours when he was not engrossed in verifying statistics,
+and appending references to those voluminous and still accumulating
+notes for the fifth volume of his great work, he devoted himself to
+sorting and arranging the odds and ends of facts and fancies that he
+found stored away in Miss Lady's brain. Under ordinary circumstances
+he would have dismissed a pupil to whom clearness and accuracy were
+strangers, and whose attention wandered with every passing butterfly.
+In the classroom he not only demanded but practised order and system.
+He arrived at his conclusions by as methodical a series of mental
+actions as he arrived at his desk every morning at twenty-nine minutes
+to nine. But these were not ordinary circumstances.
+
+The impetuous young person who listened to him with such rapt
+admiration and respect, when she listened at all, had no method or
+system whatever. She simply waited for the hint, the flash that
+revealed the vision, then she joyously and fearlessly leaped to her
+conclusion.
+
+The fact that amazed him was not that she frequently landed before he
+did, but that she landed at all!
+
+As for Miss Lady herself, she was finding the Doctor's interest and
+companionship a welcome solace in her loneliness. The well of his
+knowledge seemed to her fathomless, and she never tired of hanging
+over the brink and looking down, often seeing stars in the darkness
+that she never saw in the day.
+
+When this last lesson was finished, the Doctor closed the book
+reluctantly:
+
+"I have given you the merest outline for future work," he said. "The
+rest remains with you. Have you decided yet what you are going to do?"
+
+"No, I'll do whatever you tell me, Doctor. Only I do hope it won't be
+to teach school,--the very thought of teaching makes me shrivel."
+
+"It is not altogether beyond the range of possibility that you will
+marry," said the Doctor, tracing parallelograms on the arm of the
+chair. "Such things do happen, you know."
+
+Miss Lady, sitting with her elbows on the table and her chin on her
+palms, flashed a strange, questioning glance at him.
+
+"Do you believe in love, Doctor?"
+
+"Why, of course, you foolish girl, in all its manifestations, filial,
+paternal, marital. Assuredly I do."
+
+"But I mean that other kind, the kind that makes a little heaven for a
+man and woman here on earth, that answers all their longings, so that
+nothing else matters, just so they have each other. I read about it in
+novels and in poetry, but I don't see it. The married people I know
+take each other as much for granted as they do their hands and feet.
+That's not what love means to me."
+
+The Doctor smiled indulgently. "Wait until you have passed the
+sentimental age before you give your verdict! Most young ladies
+imagine that because love does not arrive, full panoplied on a snow-
+white steed, that it is not love. You, probably, like the rest, have
+read too many romantic novels. When you come to know life better you
+will realize that moral equality and intellectual affinity promise a
+much safer union than a violent romantic attachment."
+
+She regarded him as earnestly as if he had been the fount of all
+wisdom.
+
+"How long does it usually last?" she asked.
+
+"Last?" he repeated.
+
+"The sentimental age. I suppose a girl ought to get through it by the
+time she is twenty. But I never do things on time. I didn't even know
+I was sentimental until you told me. I have learned a great many
+things since you came."
+
+"There were some things you did not need to learn," said the Doctor
+quietly. "Kindness and sympathy, and rare understanding. I shall
+always look back with pleasure to these quiet weeks spent under your
+father's roof. They have given me the only chance I have had in years
+for undisturbed writing on the History that will stand for my life
+work. I must confess that I dread my return home. The noise and
+confusion, the constant invasion of my privacy, the demands upon my
+time, appal me. Very few realize the magnitude of my work, and the
+necessity it lays upon me for isolating myself. You have been
+singularly sympathetic and helpful in that respect."
+
+"But think what your being here has meant to me! You came into my life
+just when everything else seemed to drop out. You explained things to
+me, and gave me something to do. You can't begin to know how you have
+helped me."
+
+"I have only tried to direct and suggest," the Doctor said; "in short
+to take the place--"
+
+"Of a father," finished Miss Lady enthusiastically.
+
+The Doctor tapped his foot impatiently. After all her father was a
+much older man than he: the distance, at that moment, between forty
+and sixty seemed infinitely greater than that between forty and
+twenty.
+
+"You see," Miss Lady went on, unconsciously, "you have taken Daddy's
+place in so many ways that I have been depending on you for
+everything. It makes me awfully lonesome when I think of your leaving.
+Down here you have just belonged to Miss Wuster and me, and once you
+get back to town you will be the famous Doctor Queerington again and
+belong to everybody. I shan't dare write to you for fear I spell a
+word wrong."
+
+"Indeed, I shall expect a weekly letter reporting the progress of your
+studies, and I shall come to see you from time to time and help you
+with your plans for the future."
+
+"Yes, but it won't be the same. We will sit in the parlor, and you'll
+be company, and I shall be afraid of you. I am always afraid of you
+the minute I get out of your sight."
+
+"What nonsense! I never criticize anything but your pronunciation, and
+an occasional exaggeration of statement. If I have seemed severe--"
+
+"You haven't! You've been an angel! When I think of all the time you
+have taken from your writing to help me, I am ashamed for letting you
+do it."
+
+"You must not think," said the Doctor slowly, "that I have been wholly
+disinterested. I have found you singularly helpful to me. I think I
+may say that you stimulate me and refresh me more than any one I
+know."
+
+"_I_ do? Oh! Doctor! That's about the nicest thing I ever had said to
+me."
+
+He was not prepared for the radiant face of gratitude that was lifted
+to his, nor for the proximity of her glowing eyes which gave him no
+further reason for doubting their exact hue.
+
+"Yes," he said with slight embarrassment, "your mind interests me
+exceedingly. It is not complex, nor subtle, but remarkably intuitive.
+You have imagination and humor, and great receptivity."
+
+Miss Lady wore the absorbed look people usually wear when their
+characteristics are undergoing vivisection; she could not have been
+more fascinated had she been viewing her face for the first time in a
+mirror.
+
+"This little volume now," the Doctor continued, picking up an
+elementary treatise on evolution; "I am particularly anxious to see
+what effect it will have on a fresh, unsophisticated mind. Make notes
+as you read, and we will discuss it when you have finished."
+
+"And you won't forget to send me the copy of Mrs. Browning?"
+
+"No, I seldom forget. But I may not send it. Science is better for you
+just now than poetry. What is that blossom you are so carefully
+cherishing?"
+
+Miss Lady's eyes fell, and the color leapt to her face.
+
+"This? Just a wild rose I found over there by the wall. I thought they
+had stopped blooming weeks ago."
+
+The Doctor took it in his hand and examined it minutely: "It is the
+_Rosa Blanda_," he said, "five cleft sepals that terminate in a tube.
+Pliny tells us that in ancient days the warriors used the petals of
+this rose to garnish their choicest meats. Who is that quaint person
+coming over the stile?"
+
+"It's Miss Ferney. What a nuisance, on our last day! But I forgot, I
+asked her to come. If she stays very long, just tell a little fib,
+won't you, and say you need me for something?"
+
+"It will not be a fib," said the Doctor quietly, "I do need you."
+
+Miss Lady met her caller at the front porch and relieved her of the
+jar she was carrying.
+
+"It's pickles," said Miss Ferney, a withered little woman whose small,
+nibbling face suggested a squirrel's. "I thought having company you
+might need 'em. Don't know though. City people may be too aristocratic
+to eat country pickles."
+
+"The idea, Miss Ferney! Don't you sell them in the city all the time?"
+
+"Yes, under labels. City people lay stress on labels. When I was a
+child, I wasn't allowed to eat things that was labeled. I hear he's
+going?"
+
+"Who?"
+
+"Your Doctor. Don't see how you've ever stood him so long."
+
+"Oh! you don't know Doctor Queerington! It's been a great privilege to
+have him here, He is a very distinguished man, Miss Ferney, and so
+kind and good!"
+
+"Good or bad, they are all the same to me. Just as soon have a fly
+under my mosquito bar as a man buzzing around in my house. When's he
+going?"
+
+"To-morrow. Will that be too soon for you to come over?"
+
+"No, I'm ready to come. Sis 'Lizzie will be sure to try some of those
+new-fangled receipts and spoil a bushel or two of cucumbers, but I
+said I'd come and I will. What is this Jimpson is telling me about
+your taking the examinations for the county school?"
+
+Miss Lady sighed: "I may have to teach; I don't know."
+
+"Sell off some more land. You don't need a hundred acres."
+
+"We've sold too much already! It will be the house next. I am
+determined to hold on to Thornwood if the roof tumbles in on my head!"
+
+"I know how you feel," said Miss Ferney whose sentiments ran to real
+estate. "I've been saving every nickel I made for nearly twenty years
+to buy back our place. From all the talk we heard last spring, Sis
+Lizzie rather allowed you was going to get married."
+
+"Well, I am not."
+
+"I am glad of it. Folks are keen enough to believe in every beau a
+girl has 'til she's thirty. After that they don't believe in any of
+them. Sis was misled by what they told her over at the Wickers'."
+
+"What did they tell her?" asked Miss Lady, training a rebellious moon
+vine up the trellis.
+
+"Oh, they told her about that young city fellow you was rampaging all
+over the country with last spring. Mrs. Wicker said he hadn't a
+thought in his head but you. That he wore her plumb out telling her
+about you, just as if she hadn't help raise you on a bottle!"
+
+Miss Lady still found the vine absorbing, but she took time to say
+over her shoulder:
+
+"Tell your sister and Mrs. Wicker that that young man has gone to
+China."
+
+"Well, nobody could wish him further! I hope he will stay. You are too
+nice a girl to get married. What do women want to marry for anyway?
+Look at me! Forty years single and not one minute of it spent in
+wishing I was married! I glory in my independence, I glory in my
+freedom."
+
+Miss Ferney was allowed to glory undisturbed, for Miss Lady, leaning
+against the railing of the porch, had apparently forgotten her
+existence.
+
+"You just make up your mind to take that school job, and lead a
+useful, independent life. I know a teacher in Shelby County that's had
+the same school for fifteen years, ever since she was a plump, pretty
+girl, and she's thin as I am now, and gray as a rat. Kept that same
+position and done well all these years."
+
+Miss Lady wheeled suddenly and flung out her arms:
+
+"If you don't hush this minute, Miss Ferney, I'll run off and join the
+circus! I'd lots rather stand on one toe in fluffy, spangled skirts,
+and jump through a hoop than teach school!"
+
+Miss Ferney looked scandalized: "You don't seem right well," she said
+as if in excuse for such flippancy. "I do believe you've got a fever.
+I'm going straight home and mix you up a tonic."
+
+Miss Lady sat for some time on the steps with her eyes on the distant
+river. Up the hillside the treetops rippled in the breeze, and down in
+the valley the winding stream danced in the shallows or loitered in
+brown pools to whisper secrets to the low-hanging boughs. The world
+seemed to her not only very beautiful, but very lonesome, and the vow
+of eternal celibacy, made to Uncle Jimpson, loomed large and terrible
+in the presence of Miss Ferney.
+
+"Oh, here you are," said the nurse, coming around the house; "the
+Doctor has been refusing to lie down until you come out to the garden.
+He says he needs you for something. Deliver me from convalescents!"
+
+Miss Lady laughed and ran down the path to the garden, where the
+Doctor greeted her with his rarest smile. The rest of the morning they
+pored over manuscripts, sorting notes, and making corrections, she
+happy in having even a tiny share in his great work, and he finding
+her enthusiasm and interest a welcome condiment to stir his jaded
+appetite for his task. Meanwhile, a bedraggled little rose languished
+unnoticed beneath the manuscript of "The History of Norman Influence
+on English Language and Literature."
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XI
+
+
+For three hundred and sixty-five days Myrtella Flathers held
+undisputed sway in the house of Queerington. The Doctor's semi-
+invalidism, after his return from Thornwood, threw all responsibility
+upon her, and while she permitted him to wear the crown, it was she
+who wielded the scepter. Never had the house been in such immaculate
+order, nor the young Queeringtons appeared in such presentable
+garments, and never had the front door been slammed so persistently in
+the face of unwelcome guests.
+
+For the Queerington family tree was afflicted with too many branches.
+There were little dry twigs of maidenly cousins, knotted and dwarfed
+stumps of half-gone uncles and aunts, vigorous, demanding shoots of
+nephews and niece's, all of whom had hitherto imposed upon the
+Doctor's slender income, and his too generous hospitality.
+
+Myrtella objected to the inroads these invaders made on his time and
+strength, and she also objected to the extra work their presence
+entailed upon her. In short, she felt that the family tree needed
+pruning, and she set herself right heartily to the job. By persistent
+discourtesy she managed to lop off one relative after another, until
+she gained for the Doctor a privacy hitherto undreamed of.
+
+"There ain't a hour in the day that I ain't headin' off somebody!" she
+triumphantly announced one day to the cook from next door. "When I
+come here you'd 'a' thought it was a railroad station, people comin'
+and goin' with satchels; and bells a-ringin', and trunks being dragged
+over the carpets. Dirt from the top of the house to the bottom; Miss
+Hattie with her petticoats hanging down below her dress; and all the
+neighbor children racing in and out, and actually takin' the mattress
+off Bertie's bed to coast down the stairs on!"
+
+"In the name of St. Patrick!" sympathized Norah, the visitor; "and
+their pa not doin' nothin' with 'em at all?"
+
+"Who said he wasn't?" blazed Myrtella instantly. "You'll be hintin'
+around next that I was talkin' about the Doctor behind his back.
+You're fixin' to lose me my place, that's what you are doin'."
+
+"Not me! It's braggin' on you I was not over a week ago, sayin' what a
+fine, nice cook you was, and how grand and clean it was over here."
+
+"Of course," said Myrtella haughtily, "I may not be workin' fer a lady
+that's so smart she wouldn't even know her own kitchen if she met it
+walkin' up the street. I may not work in a house where they pull down
+the shades and burn red lamps in the day time to keep from showin' the
+dirt under the sofa. We don't keep two servants and not have enough to
+feed 'em, but _I'm_ satisfied. At least fer the present. The day will
+come when I won't have to be in service to no one. I'm puttin' by each
+week, and the time ain't distant when I'll be settin' at the head of
+my own boardin'-house table, an' it will be 'Miss Flathers,' if you
+please! You, Bertie!" this to a frail-looking little boy in the back
+yard. "You git up off the grass this minute! Fixin' to catch the croup
+and have me up with you all night, like I was last week."
+
+"Sure 'n I might find a worse place than Mrs. Ivy's," continued Norah.
+"A bit of blarney, and frish flowers every day in front of her
+photygraph, and things right for Mr. Gerald, is all she wants. The
+last place I worked,--Mrs. Sequin's, bad luck to her!... It was a
+party or a dinner between me and me rest ivery night of the week!
+Sorra a bit did I care for the whole kit of 'em, barring Mr. Don
+Morley, as fine a young gentleman as ever set foot in sole leather!"
+
+"Him that shot Dick Sheeley and run away?"
+
+"Him they laid it on," said Norah with indignant emphasis. "It was
+that good-for-nothin' Mr. Lee Dillingham done it, and Mrs. Sequin a-
+movin' heaven to marry Miss Margery off to him. I seen how they was
+tryin' to keep Mr. Don from comin' home and hearin' the tales they was
+tellin'. He is worth the whole bunch of 'em tied in a knot; a
+gentleman inside and out, and his hand in his pocket ivery time you
+served him. Ain't that somebody a-callin' ye down the back stairs?"
+
+"Let 'em call," said Myrtella, to whom these comparisons of past
+places were replete with interest. "It's just Miss Hattie; if she's
+got anything worth sayin', she can come down and say it."
+
+It was evidently worth saying, for a moment later, a thin, sharp-
+featured girl of fourteen thrust her head in at the door.
+
+"Myrtella, I told you I wanted that white dress fixed. I am going to
+wear it this afternoon."
+
+"It's too early to wear summer clothes," Myrtella announced,
+continuing her ironing. "I never sewed the buttons on a purpose, so 's
+you couldn't wear it."
+
+"Well I _will_ wear it! I am going right straight up stairs and pin it
+on."
+
+As the door slammed, Myrtella turned a beaming face on Norah:
+
+"It ain't hemmed!" she said with satisfaction.
+
+Norah shrugged her shoulders:
+
+"It would be a cold day that'd see anybody makin' me do the cookin'
+and nursin', and sewin' for a family of four, for five dollars a
+week!"
+
+Myrtella glared at her across the ironing board:
+
+"Who said anybody was makin' me? I'm paid to do the cookin' and
+housework in this house, and if I see fit to light in and boss things
+'round a bit, it's my own business. Thank the Lord, I got manners
+enough to attend to it! How much coffee did you come over here to
+borrow?"
+
+"A cupful will do, 'til the morning. I'll bring it back before
+breakfast."
+
+"Put it in this jar when you do. I keep what you pay back separate
+from ours, so's I can lend it to you again. We ain't used to chicory."
+
+Norah coughed deprecatingly behind her hand:
+
+"Sure you might make allowance fer a lady as busy as Mrs. Ivy. She
+can't get her mind down to ordn'ary things."
+
+"Stop her settin' on club boards, and meetin' on committees, and
+tryin' to regulate the nation, and she might remember to order the
+groceries. What's she workin' on now?"
+
+"A begger man. It was readin' Scriptures to him she was when I come
+away, and him a-settin' there, right pitiful, a-tellin' her how he'd
+lost all he had in the flood. A religious talkin' man if I ever heard
+one."
+
+"Red-headed?" inquired Myrtella, arresting a hot iron in mid air.
+
+"He was."
+
+"When she gits done with him, you send him over here," Myrtella
+brought the iron down on the board with a thud. "If there is one
+person in the world I'm layin' for it's a red-headed flood-sufferer."
+
+Norah on her way out encountered another visitor and turned back to
+announce him:
+
+"Git on to what Bertie has drawed out here! The craziest, dirtiest
+kid! Puts me in mind of a egg on a couple of toothpicks!"
+
+Myrtella, peering over her shoulder, suddenly scrambled down the
+steps.
+
+"It's Chick!" she cried, beaming upon him. "How long you been here,
+Chick?"
+
+"And who's Chick?" asked Norah, instantly curious. "You seem to set a
+great store by him! What ails the child? What's he pointin' at our
+house for? Ain't he got a tongue in his head?"
+
+"He has, though not so long as some folks. Chick! Bertie! Come in
+here!" and without ceremony Myrtella swept them into the kitchen and
+slammed the door in Norah's face.
+
+Once within her stronghold, she first embraced Chick, then dragged him
+forcibly to the sink, and subjected him to a vigorous scrubbing. Both
+actions apparently bored him acutely, for he turned his soap-dimmed
+eyes enviously upon the smaller boy who pranced about in transports of
+joy.
+
+"We'll skate on the pavement!" Bertie was crying excitedly. "You can
+have one skate, and I'll have the other and we'll see who can beat."
+
+"You won't do nothin' of the kind!" quoth Fate at the faucet. "I ain't
+goin' to have you racin' 'round and gettin' het up and takin' cold.
+Besides, you ain't big enough to keep up with Chick!" Then seeing the
+disappointment her ultimatum had caused, she added, "if it wasn't for
+you stickin' every thing up, I might make you some candy."
+
+"Oh, 'Tella! will you? 'Lasses candy? Ask him if he likes 'lasses
+candy."
+
+Violent nods of affirmation from the steam-enveloped victim.
+
+Myrtella had started with the simple ambition to wash Chick's face,
+but the boundary line had proved troublesome. Whether she sharply
+defined it, or attempted artistic effects in chiaroscuro the result
+was equally unsatisfactory. Myrtella was nothing if not thorough;
+before she finished with Chick, he was standing with his feet in a
+bucket, as clean and wet and naked as a fish.
+
+All this consumed time, and both boys were growing impatient, when a
+peculiar noise from outside attracted their attention. To Chick, only,
+the sound seemed to be familiar, for he laughed and wagged his head
+and pointed to the yard.
+
+"It sounds like hiccoughs!" said Bertie, his head on one side.
+
+Myrtella's mouth closed like a trap. "I'll hiccough him!" she breathed
+mysteriously, and leaving the children to watch the candy, she went
+out on the porch and closed the door behind her.
+
+Bertie, in his short kilts, with his feet curled up in a chair,
+watched Chick with absorbed interest as he donned his ragged, dirty
+trousers. A pair of purple suspenders that had once belonged to Mr.
+Flathers, excited his special admiration.
+
+"Say, Chick, have you got a partner?"
+
+Chick nodded.
+
+"You couldn't be partners with me, too, could you?"
+
+A violent shake of the head.
+
+"I didn't think you could with two fellows at once." Bertie
+contemplated the boiling candy thoughtfully. "I could get lots of
+partners if I wasn't always sick. If you ever don't have the one you
+have got, could you take me, Chick?"
+
+Chick looked him over critically, stood him up and measured heights
+and even felt his arm for muscle. Then he made a remark that while
+lacking lucidity was nevertheless conclusive.
+
+"But I'm going to get bigger," urged Bertie.
+
+"And I've got a music box, and a water pistol, and some marbles--"
+
+At this Chick promptly produced a handful of marbles from his own
+pocket, and signified, by many whispers and hisses, that he was
+engaged in a wholesale and retail trade along that line, and open to
+negotiations.
+
+Bertie made a hurried trip to the nursery and returned with a neat
+blue bag from which he poured treasures of agate and crystal.
+
+Chick lost all interest in the candy. His professional reputation was
+at stake. Never could he face the gang on Billy-goat Hill, if he
+failed to fleece this lamb that Providence had so clearly thrust in
+his way.
+
+Meanwhile Myrtella was exercising an elder sister's prerogative on the
+back steps, and bestowing upon her brother what she modestly called a
+piece of her mind.
+
+For Phineas, in one of his periodical backslidings, had slid too far.
+His ambition to excel as a regenerate had carried him out of the quiet
+pastures of the Immanuel flock, into the more exhilarating battle-
+field of the Salvation Army. Lured by the prospect of recounting his
+experiences on a street corner to the accompaniment of an accordion,
+he had forsaken the safe shelter of the Ladies' Aid, and sought new
+worlds to conquer.
+
+The experiment had not been a success. He was now, at the end of a
+year, going from door to door, ragged and unkempt, playing the small
+and uninteresting role of flood-sufferer. But Phineas' spirit soared
+blithely above his circumstances. He even encouraged Myrtella in her
+tirade against him, spurring her on to fresh effort, as the monks of
+old! courted flagellation.
+
+"That's right, Sis!" he urged, "you git it all out of your system. I
+says to the lady next door, I says, what I need is a dressing down
+from my good sister. She'll give me gussie, says I, then she'll light
+in an' help me. That's her way, I says, there ain't a more generous
+person on this terrestrial globe. I 'lowed maybe she'd be moved to
+follow your example, but she wasn't. She handed me out a line of
+Sunday school talk fer more 'n a hour, then she didn't give me nothin'
+but this here Bible, an' me a starvin' man! I've ate a little of
+everything in my day, but I'm skeered to risk my digestion on
+Deuteronomies and Psa'ms!"
+
+"Well, you needn't come beggin' 'round here, and trackin' in the mud,"
+announced Myrtella firmly. "I'm done with you! You had just as good a
+chance to get on as me. I never ast favors of nobody; I went to work
+an' hustled. What's more, I ain't goin' to stop 'til I get to be a
+boardin'-house keeper. And what'll you be? A lazy, drunken, good-for-
+nothin' sponge."
+
+Phineas, toying with his hat, suddenly sniffed the air and smiled.
+
+"Molasses candy!" he exclaimed joyfully. "I couldn't git on to what
+was making me feel so good. Say, Sis, you must 'a' knowed I was a-
+comin'."
+
+Myrtella stood in rigid disapproval on the top step and surveyed her
+next of kin with such chilling contempt that he decided to change his
+tactics.
+
+"Honest, now, Sis, I never come to beg for nothin'. What I really come
+for was to tell you 'bout our good luck."
+
+This move was so adroit that it caught Myrtella unawares, and elicited
+a faint show of curiosity. "We never knowed it 'til last week,"
+Phineas proceeded mysteriously, "an' we ain't mentioned it to nobody
+'til we git a parlor fitted up an' a sign painted."
+
+"What for?"
+
+"Fer see-ances! There's been a Dago doctor, calls himself Professor
+King, hangin' 'round the Hill, an' the minute he lays eyes on Maria
+Flathers he seen she was a mejium. He give her four lessons fer a
+dollar, an' she begin to hear raps an' bells ringin' the fifth
+settin'. Last night she begin to move the furniture."
+
+"She must 'a' been in a trance!" exclaimed Myrtella. "I been knowin'
+Maria about fourteen years an' I never heard of her movin' the
+furniture. She can go to more pains to scrub around a table leg than
+any one I ever knowed."
+
+But in spite of her scoffing, Myrtella was impressed. For many years
+she had considered a visit to a spiritualist, or clairvoyant, one of
+her wildest and most extravagant dissipations. The possibility of
+having a medium in the family was a luxury not to be lightly
+dismissed.
+
+"Where'd you git the money fer the lessons?" she demanded suddenly.
+
+Phineas hesitated and was lost.
+
+"You spent Chick's! He's as ragged as a scarecrow. Looks like he don't
+get enough food to push his ribs out. I ketch you spendin' the money I
+give him on sperrits, livin' or dead, an' I'll never give you another
+cent!"
+
+"Now, Sis, hold on! You didn't lemme finish. I'm thinkin' some of
+running a undertaker's business, along in conjunction with the see-
+ances. We could keep tab on the customers then, and build up a good
+trade. All on earth we need is just a little capital, an' we'd be a
+self-supportin' couple inside a week."
+
+So convincing were Phineas' arguments, that in the end Myrtella
+consented to act as _deus ex machina_ for the new psychical venture,
+on condition that Chick should be properly clothed, and fed, and made
+to go to school.
+
+This agreement having been arrived at, Myrtella reached for her broom,
+and began such a vigorous attack on the steps, that Flathers was
+forced to conclude that his presence could be cheerfully dispensed
+with. He gathered himself up, slapped his hat on the side of his head,
+tucked his Bible under his arm, and made a sweeping bow.
+
+"Fare thee well, my own true love. Bring the money Saturday night, an'
+Maria'll wind up the sperrits an' let 'em manifest fer you, free of
+charge. Sorry I can't wait fer that molasses candy to git done. You
+might send me some by Chick. Adiew!"
+
+Myrtella stood, broom in hand, and watched the loose-jointed figure
+slouch down the pavement and out the back gate. He was cheerfully
+whistling the doxology, and his face wore the rapt expression of one
+whose thoughts are not on earthly things. She sighed and shook her
+head.
+
+"Front door bell's ringing," called Bertie, "so's the telephone, and
+Father's gone out and says you can clean his study. There's the bell
+again."
+
+"I expect it's Mr. Gooch inviting himself to supper. I ain't goin' to
+let him in. Give me that there plate to pour the candy in."
+
+"Look, 'Telia, what Chick traded me!"
+
+Myrtella cast a side glance at Bertie's extended palm, and promptly
+rescinded the deal.
+
+"Ain't you ashamed of yourself, Chick Flathers! Tradin' a little
+fellow's fine marbles fer them comman allies? It's cheatin', that's
+what it is, it's stealin'! Ain't you ashamed?"
+
+Chick _was_ ashamed and had the grace to show it. His contrition
+would probably not have developed except through exposure, but
+standing before Myrtella's accusing glance, and the surprised, hurt
+look in Bertie's eyes, his hardened conscience was pricked, and his
+lip began to tremble.
+
+With a fierce gesture of protection Myrtella pulled him to her:
+
+"Don't, Chick! Don't cry! I wasn't meanin' to scold you. You ain't had
+a chance like other boys. You never had no playthings, you never had
+nothin'. You was a poor little abandoned child ever since you was
+born. Oh! God, I'm a wicked woman! I ain't fit to live on the earth!"
+
+This amazing outburst so stunned the two small boys, that they stood
+looking at her in open-eyed astonishment. For some moments she swayed
+to and fro with her apron over her head, then savagely dried her eyes,
+and, bidding them follow her, stalked up the back stairs with broom
+and dust pan.
+
+Doctor Queerington's study was at the top of the house, where by means
+of closing the doors and windows, and stuffing his ears with cotton,
+he was able to shut out that material world to which he preferred to
+remain a stranger. The room was filled from floor to ceiling with
+books, and it was one of the crosses of Myrtella's life that behind
+the visible rows of volumes, stood other rows, forming a sort of
+submerged library beyond the reach of her cloth and duster.
+
+In no room in the house did she feel her importance more fully than in
+this inner shrine. She had calculated with mathematical precision the
+exact position of each of the Doctor's desk utensils, she knew the
+divinity that hedged about a manuscript, and the inviolable nature of
+bookmarks.
+
+When Bertie began fingering the inkstand, she pounced upon him.
+
+"Don't you dare touch a thing, either one of you! When the Doctor told
+me to take charge of his things, I took it. There ain't ever been a
+word of complaint since I come here, and I ain't goin' to have one at
+this here late date. There's the Doctor now comin' up the steps; I'll
+finish up here later. Get away from there, Chick!"
+
+But Chick had made a discovery. On the Doctor's desk, smiling out from
+a porcelain frame, he had found his divinity! It was the beautiful
+young lady who had once taken his part in a fight with Skeeter Sheeley
+over a whip handle; it was the young lady who always smiled at him
+when she rode by Billy-goat Hill; it was she who had changed his life
+ambition from grand larceny to plumbing! Heedless of warning he
+snatched at the picture, and as he did so it slipped from his fingers
+and the frame shattered on the floor.
+
+Doctor Queerington, at the doorway, took in the situation at a glance.
+He looked quickly from Myrtella's horrified face to the cringing
+figure of the strange child, then he smiled reassuringly.
+
+"There is no serious harm done," he said in a quiet, pleasant voice;
+"the frame can be easily replaced, and as for the photograph--" he
+paused and smiled again, then he drew Bertie's hand into his;
+"Myrtella, I shall no longer have need of a photograph of that young
+lady. She has consented to come herself and take charge of us all."
+
+Myrtella stood as one petrified; her massive figure with its upraised
+duster was silhoueted against the light, like a statue of the goddess
+of war. At last she found voice:
+
+"To take charge?" she gasped. "Do you mean she's comin' to be Mis'
+Squeerington?"
+
+"I do."
+
+"Well, I give notice," announced Myrtella with all the dignity of
+offended majesty, and shoving Chick before her, she slammed the door
+upon the astonished Doctor and stalked haughtily down the stairs.
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XII
+
+
+"A bride who doesn't see her duty, should be _made_ to see it,"
+declared Mrs. Sequin to Mrs. Ivy in her most impressive manner."
+Something is naturally expected of the wife of John Jay Queerington. I
+told her expressly that Friday was her day, I even telephoned to
+remind her, and here it is four o'clock, and people beginning to come,
+and she off playing tennis!"
+
+They were waiting in the twilight of the Queerington parlor, that
+plain, stiff, old maid of a parlor that had sprung completely
+furnished from the brain of a decorator some two decades before and
+never blinked an eyelid since. It was a room with which no one had
+ever taken liberties. Hattie had once petulantly remarked that her
+father would as soon have moved a tooth from his lower to his upper
+jaw, as to have moved an ornament or picture from the parlor to the
+second floor.
+
+Mrs. Ivy, the lady addressed, smiled tolerantly. It was one of Mrs.
+Ivy's most irritating characteristics that she was always tolerant of
+other people's annoyances. She was blond and plump, and wore a
+modified toga and a crystallized smile.
+
+"Ah! Mrs. Sequin," she purred, "our little bride is a child of Nature.
+Sweetness and light! We must not expect too much of her at first. My
+Gerald says she's like a wild little waterfall dancing in the sun,
+undammed by conventions. Gerald phrases things so perfectly."
+
+"Well, I've had enough of trying to manage a waterfall!" Mrs. Sequin
+said grimly. "Cousin John asked me to take her in hand, and I must say
+I am finding her difficult. Perfectly sweet and good natured, you
+know, but she goes right on her own way. She has decided that she
+likes Connie's friends better than the Doctor's, that her hair doesn't
+feel right arranged the way it should be, that she isn't going to wear
+dresses made by fashionable dressmakers because they are
+uncomfortable. She actually told me she liked to be a few minutes out
+of style!"
+
+"But isn't she right?" murmured Mrs. Ivy. "God has given her a
+graceful, symmetrical body, shouldn't she clothe it in flowing robes
+that do not confine or--"
+
+"For Heaven's sake, Mrs. Ivy, don't you dare start her on dress
+reform! Her one chance for social success is her beauty. She simply
+terrifies me the way she says right out the first thing that comes
+into her mind. It will take me months to teach her the first lesson in
+society, that the most immodest thing in the world is the naked
+truth."
+
+"What I hope to rouse in the dear girl," said Mrs. Ivy with a superior
+smile, "is a sense of responsibility toward her fellowmen. I have
+already proposed her name for the Anti-Tobacco League and Miss Snell,
+our corresponding secretary of the Foreign Missionary Society, has
+promised to meet me here at five. It is these young, ardent souls that
+must take up the banner of reform when it drops from the hands of us
+veterans."
+
+"Well," said Mrs. Sequin, turning a handsome, bored profile to her
+companion, "I shall never get over the absurdity of the marriage!"
+
+"Ah!" said Mrs. Ivy, laying a plump white hand on Mrs. Sequin's arm,
+"cosmic forces brought them together! The thing we seek is seeking us.
+She was young, inexperienced, adrift in the world; he was ill, lonely,
+and with three motherless children. She told me that through the past
+year, the Doctor's letters were all that sustained her."
+
+"Of course they did! Cousin John's letters sustain everybody.
+Especially if you haven't heard his lectures. Of course he does repeat
+himself."
+
+"As for her youth," went on Mrs. Ivy. "What if she is a mere rosebud
+as yet? She'll unfold; we'll help her to unfold, you and I, won't we?"
+
+Meanwhile the bride had slipped in the side entrance and was making
+frantic haste in the room above to exchange a tennis costume for a new
+house-dress.
+
+Connie Queerington was assisting, but Connie's assistance was
+generally a hindrance. She was an exceedingly voluble, blond young
+person, with blue eyes that enjoyed nothing more than their own
+reflection.
+
+"I'll never get it hooked if you don't hold still," she was saying.
+"Every time you laugh you pop it open."
+
+"Fifteen--love, thirty--love, forty--love, game!" rehearsed Miss Lady,
+practising a newly acquired serve with a vigorous stroke of her
+racket. "I could play all day and all night! Do you think I'll ever
+get to be a good player?"
+
+"Of course, if you just won't get so excited and hit the balls before
+they bounce. Gerald Ivy says your overhand play is great. He's mad
+about you, anyhow. I'd give both my little fingers to have him look at
+me as he did at you to-day."
+
+"Silly!" laughed Miss Lady. "There goes the button off my slipper. Do
+you suppose any one will notice if I pin the strap?"
+
+"Nobody but Myrtella. Sit on your foot if she comes around. If you
+don't hurry Cousin Katherine will have nervous prostration."
+
+"I don't see why you have to treat reception day like judgment day,"
+complained Miss Lady. "Who else is down stairs?"
+
+"Only Mrs. Ivy now. She is the one who held your hand and called you a
+sunbeam. Gerald's mother, you know. Hat can't abide her; says she's a
+pussy-cat. Of course Mr. Gooch will be here for supper."
+
+"Who?"
+
+"Mr. Gooch."
+
+"A friend of the Doctor's?"
+
+"No, indeed. He isn't anybody's friend. He bores us all to
+extinction."
+
+"Well, what's he coming for?"
+
+"I don't know. He always comes on Friday. He came in here once to get
+out of the rain, and Mother asked him to stay to tea. That was ten
+years ago and he has been back nearly every Friday since."
+
+"Do you have company like this all the time?" asked Miss Lady somewhat
+breathlessly.
+
+"This is nothing!" exclaimed Connie dramatically. "Before Myrtella
+came I never knew what it was to sleep in my own bed, and I had to eat
+the legs of chickens until I felt like a centipede. There! You are all
+right; come along. Don't forget to tell Father about the party!"
+
+Miss Lady had been married two weeks, but she was still circling
+wildly in a vortex of new experiences that excited and bewildered her.
+Through a long, lonely winter she had fought out her problems at the
+little country school, relying implicitly upon Doctor Queerington's
+friendship and guidance. His weekly letters, couched in paragraphs of
+technical perfection, seemed to her oracles of wisdom and beauty. Then
+the amazing and unbelievable thing had happened! He, the great Doctor
+Queerington, her father's friend, her friend, the man whom she
+respected more than any one else in the world, had chosen her, a
+young, inexperienced girl to be his wife!
+
+To one who was quite sure that she was through with illusions for
+ever, and who flattered herself that the sentimental age was safely
+behind her, the honor of a life-long companionship with a man like
+Doctor Queerington was almost overwhelming. She wanted passionately to
+be of use in the world, to make her life count for something. The
+opportunity of being of service to the Doctor, of helping him complete
+the great work that absorbed him, of ministering to his physical
+needs, and bringing joy into his life, assumed the character of a
+sacred privilege.
+
+If haunting doubts and vague unsatisfied longings possessed her at
+times, she attributed them to that dear but unreal glamour of romance
+that the Doctor had taught her must be expected to play for a while
+about the dawn of youth, but which fades away in the noon of maturity.
+And so not being skilled in the science of self-analysis, she
+fearlessly put her hand into the Doctor's, and promised to obey with a
+frank sense of relief at the shifted responsibility.
+
+The new life into which she entered proved different in every respect
+from what she had expected. The Doctor's time, scheduled to the
+minute, admitted of no interruptions, however helpful from her. In
+fact, he seemed to regard her as a cherished luxury which he had no
+time to enjoy. The children accepted her according to their respective
+natures, Connie as a chum, Hattie as an arch enemy, and Bertie as an
+idol.
+
+Hattie was fourteen, and had solved all the problems of the universe.
+She firmly upheld Aristotle and scornfully dismissed Plato from the
+world of philosophy. She disapproved of boys, of society, of second
+marriages, and she had four desperately intimate friends, all of whom
+were going to be authoresses. According to her observations she was
+the one person in the universe, excepting her father, who adhered to
+the truth. Hence her mission in life was to struggle single-handed
+against other people's inaccuracies.
+
+Miss Lady found refuge from Hattie's caustic comments in Bertie's
+immediate devotion. He had won her heart on the night of her arrival,
+when he had gone to sleep in her lap with a last injunction, that she
+"must stay with them always, until God sent for her."
+
+Whatever ideas Miss Lady had cherished of taking charge of the
+domestic affairs were promptly discouraged by Myrtella, who had
+graciously consented to give the new mistress a month's trial,
+threatening that at the first interference she would abandon her to
+her fate.
+
+Their first meeting was auspicious. Myrtella on returning from her
+afternoon out, had heard a wild commotion in the nursery and hastened
+up to investigate. Bertie's introduction was breathless:
+
+"It's the new mother, 'Tella, and Chick's here, and we are playing
+bear, and we've broken the bed-springs, and she knows heaps and heaps
+of stories, and she knows Chick!"
+
+Myrtella, who had steeled herself for mortal combat, was not prepared
+for a foe who sat in the middle of the nursery bed, laughing behind a
+tumbled shock of shining brown hair.
+
+"Oh! this is Myrtella, isn't it?" asked the bear, shaking back her
+mane and smiling with engaging frankness. "Bertie says you are Chick's
+aunt, and Chick's an old friend of mine, isn't it funny?"
+
+"Where'd you ever know Chick?" demanded Myrtella with instant
+suspicion.
+
+"We both live on Billy-goat Hill. We always wave to each other when I
+pass by, don't we, Chick?"
+
+Chick, who was partially under the bed, still in his character of
+intrepid hunter, acknowledged the fact with such a torrent of
+enthusiastic incoherence that Myrtella interrupted sternly:
+
+"Come out here this minute. It's time for you to be going on home
+anyhow. First thing I know I'll be getting complained at for having
+you hanging around so much. And look at your hands, Bertie
+Queerington! You are going to get put in the bath-tub right off,
+that's what you are going to get!"
+
+"I'll bathe him," said Miss Lady eagerly.
+
+"No," said Myrtella firmly, "there can't nobody but me manage him."
+
+But in spite of the ferocity of Myrtella's aspect, there was a
+softened gleam in her eye that showed that the new mistress had begun
+by giving satisfaction.
+
+The first few days after her arrival, Miss Lady spent in the dim
+parlor receiving callers. All the Doctor's relatives having survived
+their spasms of indignation over his marriage, united in a prompt
+determination to train up his young wife in the way she should go.
+Advice as various as it was profuse, was showered upon her. At first
+she was amused; then she was inexpressibly bored; at last she was
+desperate. She was not used to being indoors all day, she was not used
+to spending her time with elderly ladies who talked of moral
+obligations, and social demands, and civic consciences. The duties of
+her married life which had promised such interesting responsibilities,
+and wonderful opportunities for aiding the Doctor in his great work,
+seemed to be shrinking into the dull task of keeping herself and the
+children out of his way, preserving a tomb-like silence in the house,
+and entertaining an endless round of callers.
+
+Even this would have been bearable if the Doctor could only have taken
+time from his soul-absorbing work to listen at the end of the day,
+with amused tenderness, to all her little experiences, if he had
+discussed with her the best way of handling the children, laughed with
+her over her struggles with Myrtella, and encouraged those
+affectionate words and caresses that were so much a part of her
+nature.
+
+If he could have done this, Miss Lady would have soon found
+satisfaction in lavishing her affection upon him. It was her bent to
+be passionately attached to those about her, and she was not one to
+stand still in a mental or emotional imprisonment.
+
+But the Doctor was struggling through the most nerve-wrecking month of
+the year at the university. The beginning of a new term, the
+adjustment of classes, the enrolment of new pupils, all made a heavy
+drain on his weakened constitution. He was in no condition in the
+evenings to give out anything more, even to a young and devoted bride
+who was quite ready to relinquish any other pleasure to burn incense
+at the shrine of his learning.
+
+The homesickness that had hung over her since the day she had turned
+her back on Thornwood would have enveloped her completely had it not
+been for Connie. Connie was but a year her junior, and was thoroughly
+disapproved by the family connection. She enjoyed the reputation of
+being frivolous and vain, and wholly lacking in reverence to her
+elders.
+
+Connie's friends and amusements proved the line of least resistance
+along which Miss Lady raced to freedom. The tennis court served as a
+joyful substitute for the drab dreariness of the new home, and the
+free and easy companionship of Connie's friends a happy relief from
+the elderly feminines that invaded it.
+
+The Doctor was still the majestic pivot, round which her thoughts
+swung, but the circle was growing wider and wider. The difference in
+their ages, which at first to her inexperience had seemed such a
+trifling consideration, proved more serious as time went on.
+
+She was eager for life, keen for pleasure, plastic, susceptible. Each
+new experience was to her an epoch, while to the Doctor, whose habits
+and opinions were fixed for eternity, it was usually but a fresh
+interruption to his work.
+
+It was not that he failed to appreciate her. The light that came into
+his serious eyes whenever she was near, the unfailing courtesy and
+gentleness with which he spoke to her, the absolute freedom he allowed
+her, and the flattering appeal he made to her intellect, calmed
+whatever doubts might have risen in her mind.
+
+Of her own feelings she dared not stop to think. Life was all so
+strange, so different from what she had expected. The flashes of doubt
+and perplexity that came in the pauses between Connie's closely
+planned festivities, she attributed to homesickness.
+
+It was late when her last caller departed, and as she ran lightly up
+to the Doctor's study, she realized with a little sense of
+disappointment that she had not seen him since breakfast. Even now she
+paused at the door, for fear she would interrupt some flight of the
+muse. But on peeping in she found his big armchair drawn up to the
+window, and the top of a head appearing above its back. Tiptoeing
+cautiously forward she clapped her hands over his eyes and dropped a
+kiss on his upturned forehead.
+
+In an instant a strange, belligerent little gentleman had sprung to
+his feet and was confronting her with features that resembled those of
+a magnified and outraged bumblebee.
+
+"I am so sorry!" stammered Miss Lady in laughing chagrin, "I--I
+thought you were the Doctor!"
+
+"Even so," admitted the stranger rather firmly, standing with chin
+lifted and nostrils dilated, "even so. You seem to have forgotten the
+fact that Doctor Queerington is now a benedict!"
+
+"Yes, but you don't understand." I am--"
+
+"A friend of Constance' no doubt. But under the circumstances you will
+permit me to say that such conduct is ill-advised. I should not
+mention it were I not a friend of the family--"
+
+"Oh! You are Mr. Gooch?"
+
+"I am. And I have the pleasure of addressing--"
+
+"Why, I'm Mrs. Queerington," said Miss Lady, blushing furiously.
+
+Mr. Gooch sank back into the chair and looked at her indignantly.
+
+"Impossible!" he exploded. "They did not tell me--in fact I was not
+prepared--May I ask you not to mention my mistake to the girls?
+Constance, as you doubtless have discovered, is very silly, given to
+making great capital out of nothing. We will not mention it."
+
+"Ah!" said the Doctor in the doorway with his arms full of books. "How
+are you, my dear? How are you, Mr. Gooch? What is this conspiracy of
+silence?"
+
+"It is only against the girls," laughed Miss Lady. "We'll take him in,
+won't we, Mr. Gooch?"
+
+The Doctor listened with tolerant amusement as Miss Lady gave a
+dramatic account of the double mistake, but Mr. Gooch failed to smile.
+
+All through supper that evening Miss Lady tried in vain to propitiate
+the guest. His manner showed only too plainly that he regarded her as
+an intrusion in the family which he had seen fit to adopt. It was not
+until the pudding arrived that his mood mellowed. Myrtella's cooking
+was so eminently to his taste that he was willing to put up with a
+great deal for the privilege of enjoying it. Moreover, laughter always
+improved his digestion and the young person at the head of the table
+was proving amusing.
+
+"Mr. Gooch is waiting for more coffee," announced Hattie, interrupting
+an animated account Miss Lady was giving of her first day at the
+country school.
+
+"Let her finish the story," said the Doctor to whom food was
+immaterial. He was indulging in the unusual luxury of loitering at the
+table after the meal was finished, a habit seldom tolerated in the
+Queerington household.
+
+"But there isn't time," insisted Hattie. "Connie is having a party to-
+night."
+
+"A party?" The Doctor's brows lifted.
+
+"Yes," broke in Connie. "Miss Lady said she didn't think you'd mind,
+and she persuaded Myrtella to let us dance in here. You won't mind the
+noise, just this one night, will you, Father?"
+
+The Doctor considered the matter gravely. After all, his reading would
+be interrupted by Mr. Gooch, so he might as well assent. He seldom
+objected to any plan that did not interfere with his own actions. His
+absorption in the race precluded an interest in mere family matters.
+
+"They are not pressing you into service, I hope?" he asked, glancing
+at Miss Lady.
+
+"Indeed we are!" cried Connie. "She's going to play for us to dance,
+when she isn't dancing herself. Of course we want her with us."
+
+"You forget, Constance, that there are other claims upon her. Mr.
+Gooch and I would like to have her with us in the study."
+
+Miss Lady looked up in pleased surprise.
+
+"That settles it, Connie," she said; "you girls can play for
+yourselves. Come on and go to bed, Kiddie," and with Bertie at her
+heels, the new mistress of Queerington raced down the hall.
+
+For ten years Doctor Queerington and Mr. Gooch had played pinochle
+every Friday evening. The Doctor did not especially enjoy it, except
+as one of those incidents that grows acceptable by long repetition. He
+was a born routinist, regarding a well-regulated world as a place
+where everything ran in the same grooves to eternity. One of his chief
+sources of satisfaction in regard to his second marriage was that it
+promised not to interfere with those established laws which regulated
+his day, from the prompt breakfast at 7:15 to the long hours with his
+books in the evening. In short, Doctor Queerington was a sort of well-
+regulated human clock, announcing his opinions as irrevocably as the
+striker announces the hours, and ticking along so monotonously between
+times that one almost forgot he was there.
+
+If the Friday evening game was to him merely a habit, to Mr. Gooch it
+was an occasion. Having once seated himself, and glanced around to
+make sure his hand was not reflected in a mirror, he spread his cards
+gingerly in his palm with only the corners visible, squared his jaw
+and proceeded with solemnity to observe the full rigor of the game.
+There was no trifling with points, or replaying of tricks. The
+marriage of kings and queens was solemnized without rejoicing, and
+even the parade of a royal sequence brought no flush of triumph to his
+cheek, but moved him only to chronicle it in small, precise figures in
+a red morocco note-book which he always brought with him for the
+purpose.
+
+When Miss Lady came up to the study, after giving Bertie two encores
+to "Jack the Giant Killer," she found the men silently absorbed in
+their game. Sitting on a hassock at the Doctor's side, she tried to
+follow the detailed explanation that he gave during each deal. But the
+jargon of "declarations," and "sequences," and "common marriages" soon
+grew wearisome, and she found herself idly studying the Doctor's fine,
+serious face, and listening for his low, flexible voice which
+unconsciously softened when he spoke to her.
+
+In spite of the fact that the study was very warm these sultry
+September evenings, and the Doctor's mental strides much too long for
+her to keep pace, she nevertheless looked eagerly forward to the hours
+spent there. If at times she failed to follow his elucidations, or
+grew sleepy reading aloud from some well-thumbed classic, it was not
+because her admiration and respect for her husband were lessening. In
+fact, he was always at his best at this time, surrounded by the books
+he knew and loved, and expanding under the approbation of his one
+appreciative listener. Here he reigned, a feudal lord, safe guarded in
+his castle of books against that strange and formidable enemy, the
+World.
+
+"Four aces, and pinocle," announced Mr. Gooch with grim satisfaction.
+
+Miss Lady rose restlessly and went to the window in the alcove. From
+the parlor below came the strains of a waltz and snatches of laughter;
+overhead the stars loomed big and white in the summer night. She
+thought how strange and lonesome it must be out at Thornwood with the
+lights all out and the windows nailed up. The little night things were
+singing in the garden by this time, and the cool breezes were
+beginning to stir the treetops. She wondered how Mike was getting
+along without her, and a lump rose in her throat. She swallowed
+resolutely, and smiled confidently up at the stars. Her married life
+was not in the least what she had expected, but it would all work out
+for the best. To be sure, nobody seemed to need her, nothing was
+required of her, but she would make a place for herself, she
+_must_ make a place for herself. Perhaps if she had something to do
+besides playing with Connie and her friends all day, she would get
+over this feeling of uselessness, and this haunting homesickness for
+the hills and valleys, for her horses and dogs, and the old brick
+house among the trees.
+
+Suddenly she caught her breath and listened:
+
+"He's coming home," Mr. Gooch was saying in the room behind her. "At
+least, they've sent for him. Young Decker, who has just gotten back,
+says Morley will come on a stretcher rather than have people believe
+that he shot a man, then ran away. They had never heard a word of the
+indictment."
+
+"As I expected," the Doctor said, shuffling the cards. "When does he
+return?"
+
+"When he's able to travel, I suppose. Decker left him down with a
+fever in a hospital in Singapore. He's done for himself, I am afraid."
+
+"Very probably," said the Doctor. "Poor Donald! It's your lead."
+
+Miss Lady slipped behind the curtain, and steadied herself by the
+window sill. Why had her heart almost stopped beating? Why was it
+beating now as if it would strangle her? Why did the thought of Donald
+Morley lying ill and friendless in a foreign hospital rouse every
+desire in her to go to him at once at any cost? Waves of surprise and
+shame surged over her. She heard nothing, saw nothing, save the fact
+that something she thought was dead had come to life. She was wakening
+from a long numb sleep, and the wakening was terrifying. What
+irremediable catastrophe had happened between now and that supreme
+moment when she had stood under the lilacs in the twilight with Donald
+Morley's arms about her, his breath on her cheek, and his passionate
+plea: "Oh, if you only knew how I need you! I'll be anything under
+heaven for your sake if you'll only stand by me!"
+
+"My game," said the Doctor. "Fortune has favored me. What became of
+Miss Lady? The call of the young people down-stairs grew too strong, I
+presume."
+
+Mr. Gooch, in a very bad humor over the loss of the last game,
+sullenly packed his deck of cards in the case with the red morocco
+note-book and made ready to take his departure. The Doctor
+automatically placed the card table against the wall, arranged the
+chairs at their prefer angles, straightened a book on his desk, and
+turned out the lights, leaving a slim white figure with trembling
+hands and terror-stricken eyes, cowering in the starlight behind the
+swaying curtains.
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XIII
+
+
+It was always an occasion of significance when Mr. and Mrs. Basil
+Sequin found time in their busy lives to discuss a family matter.
+There was no particular lack of interest on either side, it was simply
+that their hours did not happen to fit. When he was not at his club,
+she was at hers; when she was dining at home, he was detained at a
+directors' meeting; when he went North to a Bankers' Convention, she
+went South to attend a bridge tournament. So it was small wonder the
+butler, removing the breakfast things, should have looked puzzled when
+Mr. and Mrs. Sequin remained at table in earnest conversation.
+
+Mr. Sequin was a thin, stooped man, prematurely old at fifty. The
+harassed, driven expression that was so habitual to his face had
+plowed furrows that no lighter mood could now erase. His present mood,
+however, was not a light one. He sat with his hand shading his eyes,
+and scowled gloomily at the tablecloth.
+
+"I told you a month ago," he was saying, "that you'd have to cut some
+of the expenses on the new house. We've already gone twenty thousand
+over the original estimate. There isn't a month now that our accounts
+are not overdrawn. Nothing has been said directly, but it is known on
+the street. Nothing will be said, as long as it is understood that I
+am to have the management of the Dillingham estate at the general's
+death, but if this estrangement should continue between Margery and
+Lee Dillingham--"
+
+"Now, Basil!" Mrs. Sequin cried dramatically, "don't for mercy's sake
+take a nervous-prostration patient seriously. Margery is nothing but a
+bunch of notions, and Cropsie Decker has gotten her all stirred up
+about the injustice that has been done to Don. I won't even let her
+talk to me about it, it's all so silly. What possible difference can
+it make who did the shooting? The boys are well out of the scrape and
+it's almost forgotten by this time. Young people who are engaged have
+to have something to quarrel over; this won't amount to a row of pins.
+I am going right on making preparations for an early spring wedding.
+By the way, you know the bow window in the drawing-room? Well, I am
+having it made four feet wider so they can be married there facing the
+loggia, like this!"
+
+Mrs. Sequin's two plump fingers did duty for the bride and groom, but
+Mr. Sequin was not interested.
+
+"I should not be surprised if Decker cabled Donald to come home. He's
+in a great state of indignation over the fact that the blame was put
+on Don. You see, it is all a fresh issue with them."
+
+"I'd be perfectly furious with Don," declared Mrs. Sequin, "if he came
+back and got into a quarrel with Lee. Margery will be sure to take his
+part; she's always so silly about Don. If she were well enough I'd be
+tempted to rush the wedding through before Christmas. But then, we
+couldn't have it in the new house, and I have practically built that
+first floor for the wedding. Everything depends on our having it
+there."
+
+"Everything depends on our having it somewhere!" said Mr. Sequin
+grimly.
+
+"Mrs. Queerington's cook, madam, wishes to speak to you," announced
+the butler at the pantry door.
+
+"Tell her to wait," said Mrs. Sequin without turning her head. "What
+did you decide about the decorator's estimates, Basil?"
+
+"Decide? What time have I to be considering decorations? Why can't you
+attend to it?"
+
+"Why, indeed? I only have to attend to the alterations on the bow
+window, look at the new sketches for the garage, have a shampoo and
+massage, lunch at the Weldems', take Fanchonette to the veterinary, be
+fitted at three, and go to the Bartrums' at five. By all means, I'll
+attend to it. I'll give the order to Lefferan; he handles the most
+exclusive designs."
+
+"That's what we want," said Mr. Sequin, rising; "the most exclusive
+and the most expensive. Our credit is good for a few months yet. Have
+the small car at the bank at 6:30. I will not be home for dinner."
+
+Mrs. Sequin sighed as he slammed the front door. There was no use
+denying the fact that men were trying, even the best of them. Hadn't
+Cousin John Queerington, that paragon of perfection, toppled on his
+pedestal at the smile of an unsophisticated little country girl? And
+there was Basil, recognized as a veritable wizard of finance, waiting
+until the new house was almost completed, then getting panicky about
+the cost. And now Donald, whom she thought safely anchored on the
+other side of the world, threatening to come home at the most
+inopportune time and create no end of trouble!
+
+"Excuse me, madam," said the butler, "but she says she ain't going to
+wait another minute."
+
+"Jenkins!" Mrs. Sequin raised her brows disapprovingly. "Send that
+odious woman up to Miss Margery's room; I will see her there."
+
+The room above the dining-room was one of those pink-and-white jumbles
+that convention prescribes for debutantes. Garlands of pink roses
+festooned the paper, tied at intervals by enormous pink bows. Pink
+bows and ruffles smothered the dresser and sewing table, and pink and
+white cushions filled the window seat. Cotillion favors, old dance
+cards, theater programs, were pinned to the heavy pink and white
+curtains that shut out the sunlight. Among the lace pillows of the
+brass bed lay a languid, pale-faced girl, who stared up at the rose-
+entwined ceiling, as a prisoner might stare at her bars.
+
+"Close the door, Myrtella," Mrs. Sequin said as they entered. "I am
+mortally afraid of drafts. Good morning, Margery. Where is your blue
+hat? I told Miss Lady to send up for it, because I am going to take
+her to the Bartrums' this afternoon and I simply could not have her
+appear in that ridiculous little hat she wears all the time."
+
+The girl in the bed turned a fretful face toward her mother:
+
+"Why, Miss Lady promised to spend the afternoon with me. I've been
+looking forward to it for days."
+
+"Yes, I know, dear, but I told her you weren't quite so well, and that
+she could come to-morrow. You see, she really can't afford to miss the
+Bartrums' tea; it's the first entertainment this fall and everybody
+will be there. I know you think Mrs. Bartrum a little gay, but you
+can't deny she runs that younger set."
+
+Margery Sequin clasped her thin white hands tensely, and resumed her
+study of the vine-covered ceiling.
+
+"Here's the hat," said Mrs. Sequin, handing a large hat box to
+Myrtella, then noting her offended expression she added by way of
+propitiation: "I don't know how they would get along without you at
+the Doctor's. I hear that the new mistress doesn't know a saucepan
+from a skillet."
+
+"She ain't no fool," returned Myrtella instantly on the defensive.
+
+"Of course not, just young and careless. I dare say she doesn't even
+order the groceries, does she?"
+
+"No, mam."
+
+"Nor plan for the meals?"
+
+"No, mam."
+
+"And you attend to everything just as if she weren't there? It's
+really too funny, isn't it, Margery? Tell Mrs. Queerington that I'll
+send the motor for her at five; and do see that she is properly hooked
+up."
+
+Myrtella succeeded in getting herself and the box silently out of the
+room, but the butler passing her on the back stairs was startled by a
+verbal shower that was not in the least intended for him. It was as if
+a watering cart had suddenly and unexpectedly turned on its supply
+regardless of its surroundings.
+
+At five o'clock Miss Lady, very radiant and apparently in high
+spirits, presented herself at the Sequins'.
+
+"May I come in just for a minute?" she asked at Margery's door. "I've
+brought you some chrysanthemums. Uncle Jimpson brought them in from
+Thornwood this morning. It's too bad you aren't so well."
+
+Margery turned admiring eyes on the bright face above her.
+
+"I'm no worse," she said, "just disappointed. I thought I was going to
+have you all to myself this afternoon."
+
+"But I didn't know you could have me! I'll run in and tell your
+mother."
+
+Mrs. Sequin, who was being insinuated into a very tight gown by the
+sheer physical prowess of her maid, exclaimed with satisfaction as
+Miss Lady entered:
+
+"There, I knew it! The hat makes the costume. You are perfect! Now,
+remember the people I want you to be especially nice to, Mrs. Gibbs,
+Mrs. Marchmont--"
+
+"The silly old woman that paints her face and wears the pearls like
+moth balls? She drove around yesterday to tell me the name of her
+hairdresser. It's always the people that haven't any hair that want to
+have it dressed."
+
+"Miss Lady! She is Mrs. Leslie Marchmont, the most sought after woman
+in town!"
+
+"I don't care, her horses look as if they had been fed on corn
+stalks."
+
+"But you mustn't say such things! You must cultivate discretion. If
+you want me to introduce you to the right people--"
+
+"But they may not be the right people for me! Some of them are lovely,
+but I can't stand the affected ones, nor the ones that patronize me."
+
+"But they won't patronize you if you are a little more reserved.
+There's no earthly reason for your telling them that you keep only one
+servant, and saying that you come from Billy-goat Hill. It's a horrid
+name given our beautiful hillside, by horrid people. You see, you
+really must cultivate more caution. You are,--what shall I say? too
+frank, too natural."
+
+Miss Lady laughed. "I haven't the least idea how to go about being
+unnatural, but, thank heaven, I don't have to learn to-day! Margery is
+feeling better and is going to let me stay with her."
+
+"That's absurd! You are all ready to go, and I want Mrs. Bartrum to
+see you for the first time just as you look now. Where are your
+gloves?"
+
+"I forgot them, but it doesn't matter, I'm not going."
+
+"I'll send Jenkins for them at once."
+
+Miss Lady's cheek flushed and she looked at Mrs. Sequin in perplexity,
+then her brow cleared.
+
+"You are afraid I'll stay too long and wear Margery out? I promise to
+go the minute she looks tired. You can trust her with me, can't you?"
+
+"But she has her nurse, there's no earthly reason--"
+
+"Except that she wants me to stay. You'll feel happier, too, knowing
+that she isn't lonely."
+
+"But don't you want to go to the tea?"
+
+"Oh, I did a little. But I think that was because you and Connie and
+Margery said I looked nice. I'm awfully squeezed and uncomfortable; I
+wonder if Margery can't lend me a dressing sacque?"
+
+Thus it was that Mrs. Sequin went off to the Bartrums' in a very bad
+humor, leaving the two girls chattering together in the pink boudoir,
+with the nurse banished to the lower regions.
+
+"Don't you want some fresh air?" asked Miss Lady, when she had stood
+the heat as long as she could.
+
+"You may open the door," said Margery, "we never leave the window up
+on account of drafts."
+
+"But I can wrap you up, and put the screen up. There! You can't take
+cold with all that on. It's the kind of day that makes me want to be
+on a horse, galloping through the woods with the wind in my face."
+
+Margery watched Miss Lady's quick motion as she opened all the windows
+behind the ruffled curtains, and let in a current of fresh
+invigorating air.
+
+"How young you are!" she said. "Years and years younger than I feel. I
+can't realize you are married and have three step-children."
+
+"Neither can I," said Miss Lady. "I'm always forgetting it. Wouldn't
+you like to sit up for a while?"
+
+"Oh! I can't. I have to lie perfectly quiet."
+
+"Who said so?"
+
+"Everybody does who has nervous prostration. The doctors say that my
+nerves are nothing but quivering wires. I suppose I went too hard last
+winter, but of course I couldn't drop out in the middle of my first
+season."
+
+"I don't believe it would hurt you a bit to sit up. If I fix that big
+rocker will you try it?"
+
+"But I haven't sat up for six weeks. When I try it in bed I have such
+tingly sensations."
+
+"That's because your legs are straight out. Let's try it in the chair,
+with them hanging down."
+
+"I'll try it, but I know I can't stand it. There! Thank you so much!
+You wouldn't think that a year ago I was as strong as you are! Why,
+between October and March I went to over a hundred and fifty
+entertainments, besides the theaters and opera."
+
+"Good heavens!" cried Miss Lady aghast.
+
+"Of course, about New Year's, I began to wobble, but mother had me
+take massage and electricity and kept me going until Lent. After that
+I collapsed until summer. Then we went to White Sulphur, where the
+Dillinghams have a cottage, I had to lie down every afternoon, but I
+was always able to be up for the dances."
+
+The nurse coming in with a long flower box, paused in surprise at the
+sight of her patient sitting up, then discreetly tiptoed out again.
+
+"Somebody has sent you some flowers!" cried Miss Lady excitedly. "How
+nice! Shall I open the box?"
+
+"Just as you like. They are probably from Lee. He sends them now
+instead of coming."
+
+"But there may be a note," said Miss Lady, searching in the tissue
+paper.
+
+Margery shook her head wearily; the little animation that had flushed
+her face, died out leaving it wan and listless.
+
+"I suppose you think this is a queer way for an engaged girl to talk,"
+she said presently, with a nervous catch in her voice. "The truth is
+Lee and I have quarreled over my uncle, Donald Morley. I will never
+forgive him for the way he has treated Don; never!"
+
+"You will if you love him," said Miss Lady.
+
+"But I'm not sure that I do!" burst out Margery. "I oughtn't to say
+it! I shan't say it again, but I shall die if I don't talk to
+somebody. Mother won't listen to a word. She says it's nerves. But the
+truth is, Miss Lady, I've never been sure; that's what's making me
+ill!"
+
+"Have you told him?"
+
+"Yes, and he laughs at me. He may be right, they all may be right.
+When I get well I may laugh at myself. But just now it seems so
+terrible for the preparations to be going on while I'm lying here,
+night after night, fighting down the doubts, trying to persuade
+myself, trying to be sure. How can you tell when you are in love? How
+do you know?"
+
+Miss Lady's hand that had been softly stroking the girl's thin white
+fingers, paused; her eyes sought the open window, and she drew a short
+breath.
+
+"Know?" she repeated as if to herself. "How do you know when you are
+cold, when you are hungry, when you're tired, when you're lonesome?
+How do you know that you want air when you are smothering? Everything
+about you tells you, your heart, your mind, your body, your soul. You
+can't help knowing!"
+
+"But suppose I don't feel like that! And suppose I should, some day,
+for some one else! Oh! Miss Lady tell me what to do! Everybody else is
+rushing me on, telling me not to worry, not to be afraid. But you are
+not like the others, you consider something more than the outside
+advantages to be gained. Tell me, what would you do in my place?"
+
+"I'd wait for the real one to come," cried Miss Lady, turning upon her
+almost fiercely, "I'd wait, if it was forever! They have no right to
+persuade you. You either love or you don't love and no power on earth
+can make it different. You can laugh at sentiment and pretend you
+don't believe in it, you can tell yourself a thousand times that you
+are doing the sensible thing. You can blind yourself utterly to the
+truth for a time. But some day you've got to realize that the only
+real thing in life is love, and that you are powerless to make it live
+or die."
+
+After that they sat a long time in silence, until Miss Lady rose
+abruptly and, making some excuse, took a hurried departure. She was
+frightened at what she had said, at what she had thought. She was
+terrified at this strange, new self, that spoke out of a strange, new
+experience, and set at naught all her carefully acquired opinions. It
+was not until she reached home after a brisk walk through the crisp
+air, that the turmoil in her brain subsided.
+
+On the hall table, beside a well-worn copy of Shelley, lay the
+Doctor's gloves and soft gray hat. She seized the gloves impulsively
+and laid them against her cheek.
+
+"Dear, dear Doctor!" she whispered almost fiercely. "So good, and
+kind, and--and wonderful!"
+
+Suddenly she was aware of some one watching her covertly through the
+crack of the dining-room door.
+
+"Myrtella!" she cried. "Is that you?"
+
+"Yes'm, if you please," came in strange, meek accents. "I'd like to
+speak with you."
+
+It was so entirely out of the course of human events for Myrtella to
+assume humility, that Miss Lady looked at her in amazement.
+
+"I can't say," began Myrtella, still half behind the door, "that I
+like the way things is run in this house. I'm thinkin' some of givin'
+notice."
+
+"Why, Myrtella!" cried Miss Lady in dismay. "I'm afraid the work is
+too heavy. We might get--"
+
+"Needn't mind finishing, Mis' Squeerington, you was goin' to say a
+house girl. If you think I'd share my room with any Dutch or Irish
+biddy, I must say you're mighty mistaken! Besides, ain't I givin'
+satisfaction? Ain't I doin' the work to suit you?"
+
+"Of course you are, but I thought you--"
+
+"Was gettin' old, I suppose, and couldn't do as much work as I used
+to. I look feeble, don't I?"
+
+Miss Lady glanced at the massive figure with brawny arms akimbo, and
+smiled.
+
+"Well, what's the trouble then?" she asked kindly. "Why do you want to
+leave?"
+
+Myrtella's eyes shifted as she rubbed some imaginary dust from the
+door:
+
+"I ain't used to working fer a lady that don't take no holt. It don't
+seem natural, and it leaves folks room to talk."
+
+"But I thought you wanted to have full charge and run things just as
+you have done in the past."
+
+"Well, it don't look right fer you not to be givin' me no orders, nor
+rowin' the grocery man, nor lightin' into nobody. If folks didn't know
+better they'd think you wasn't used to bein' a lady!"
+
+Miss Lady bit her lip to keep from laughing.  "I'll be only too glad
+to keep house, only I don't know much about it. Aunt Caroline and
+Uncle Jimpson did everything out home, and you've done everything
+here."
+
+"Well, I ain't goin' to no longer," said Myrtella firmly. "If you want
+to light in and learn, I'll learn you. But I ain't going to stay
+except on one condition, you got to take a holt of everything! You got
+to lock things up and give me out what I need. You got to order all
+the meals and tell me what you want done every mornin'. I ain't goin'
+to have people throwin' it in my face that I work for a lady that
+don't know a skillet from a saucepan!"
+
+"You're right, Myrtella," said Miss Lady, her face grown suddenly
+grave. "I don't wonder you are ashamed of me. Perhaps some good hard
+work will brush the cobwebs out of my brain. When shall I take charge
+of things, to-morrow?"
+
+"As you say," said Myrtella meekly; then with a sudden flare, "though
+it does look like I might be trusted one more day to finish up the
+general cleaning and git after the ashman for not emptyin' them
+barrels."
+
+"Friday, then?"
+
+"Friday," said Myrtella as one who signed her own death warrant, and
+the young mistress gazing absently out of the window little guessed
+that a powerful usurper was voluntarily abdicating a throne in order
+that the rightful owner might come into her own.
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XIV
+
+
+The red lamps were all lighted in Mrs. Ivy's small parlor, and the
+disordered tea-table and general confusion of the overcrowded room,
+gave evidence that one of her frequent "at homes" had been brought to
+an end.
+
+It might have been inferred that the hostess had also been brought to
+an end, to judge from her closed eyes and clasped hands, and the
+effort with which she inhaled her breath and the violence with which
+she exhaled it. The maid, clearing away the tea things, viewed her
+with apprehension.
+
+"Excuse me, ma'm, but will you be havin' the hot-water bag?" she asked
+when she could endure the strain no longer.
+
+Mrs. Ivy opened one reluctant eye and condescended to recall her
+spirit to the material world.
+
+"Norah, how could you?" she asked plaintively. "Haven't I begged you
+never to disturb my meditation?"
+
+"Yis, ma'm, but this, you might say, was worse than usual. Me mother's
+twin sister died of the asthmy."
+
+"Never speak to me when you see me entering into the silence. I was
+denying fatigue; now I shall have to begin all over!"
+
+It was evidently difficult for Mrs. Ivy to again tranquilize her
+spirit. Her eyes roved fondly about the room, resting first upon one
+cherished object then upon another. Autographed photographs lined the
+walls, autographed volumes littered the tables. Above her head two
+small bronze censers sent wreaths of incense curling about a vast
+testimonial, acknowledging her valiant service in behalf of the anti-
+tobacco crusade. Flanking this were badges of divers shape and size,
+representing societies to which she belonged. In the cabinet at her
+left were still more disturbing treasures such as Gerald's first pair
+of shoes, and the gavel that the last president of the Federated
+Sisterhood had used before she had, as Mrs. Ivy was fond of saying,
+"been called upon to hand in her resignation by the Board of Death."
+
+Before the error of fatigue had been entirely erased from her mental
+state, her eyes fell upon a pamphlet, and she immediately became
+absorbed in its contents. It set forth the need for a Home for
+Crippled Animals, and by the time she reached the second page she was
+framing a motion to be presented to her club on the morrow. Mrs. Ivy
+was greatly addicted to motions; in fact, it was one of her missions
+in life continually to move that things should be other than they
+were, without in any way supplying the motive power to change them.
+
+While thus engaged she was interrupted by a belated caller. He was a
+short, heavy-set young man, with a square prominent jaw, and a twinkle
+in his eye.
+
+"_Mister_ Decker!" exclaimed Mrs. Ivy, swimming toward him. "After all
+these months in those wonderful Eastern lands! I can almost catch the
+odor of sandalwood about you!"
+
+"It's dope," said Decker, with an easy laugh. "Chinese dope. I've had
+these clothes cleaned twice, and I can't get rid of it. Had them on
+one night in an opium den in Hankow. Funny how that smell stays with
+you."
+
+"An opium den?" repeated Mrs. Ivy, lifting a protesting hand. "And is
+no effort being made to stamp out such iniquities in China? Might not
+some concerted action on the part of the women's clubs in all the
+Christian countries create a public sentiment against them?"
+
+Decker bit his lip as he stooped to pick up the leaflet she had
+dropped.
+
+"Gerald's here I suppose?"
+
+"Of course! How thoughtless of me not to explain that I always insist
+upon the dear lad resting between four and five. He inherits delicate
+lungs from his father, and an emotional, artistic temperament from me.
+Then both of his maternal grandparents had heart trouble."
+
+"Still hammers away at his music, I suppose?" Decker asked, minutely
+inspecting the photograph of a meek-looking female who appeared
+totally unable to live up to the bold, aggressive signature with which
+she had signed herself.
+
+"Dear Miss Snell," Mrs. Ivy explained, "corresponding secretary of the
+A. T. L. A. If you had _only_ come sooner you could have met her. What
+were you asking? Oh, yes! about Gerald's music. Why, you could no more
+imagine Gerald without music, than you could think of a bird without
+wings. He would simply perish without a piano. When we are abroad we
+rent one if we are only going to be in a place ten days. His Papa
+can't understand this, but then Mr. Ivy is not musical, poor dear; he
+really doesn't know a fugue from a fantasie."
+
+"Neither do I," said Decker. "Do the Queeringtons still live next
+door?"
+
+"Yes. You know our beloved Doctor has married again."
+
+"What! Good old Syllogism Queerington! you don't mean it! I wonder if
+he knows her first name? He taught me four years up at the University
+and never could remember mine."
+
+"Oh! here's my boy! Are you feeling better, dear?" Mrs. Ivy turned
+expectant eyes to the door where a lean, loosely put together young
+man was just entering. He had the slouching gait that indicates
+relaxed ambitions as well as relaxed muscles, and his hands were deep
+in his pockets as if they were at home there.
+
+"Hello, Decker, glad to see you," he drawled languidly. "Wish you'd
+stir the fire, Mater dear; it's beastly cold in here."
+
+"I'll do it," said Decker shortly.
+
+Gerald Ivy dropped gracefully on the sofa, and became absorbed in
+examining his nails. He was rather a handsome if anemic youth, with
+the general air of one who has weighed the world and found it wanting.
+His eyes, large and brown and effective, swept the room restlessly.
+They were accomplished eyes, being capable of expressing more emotions
+in a moment than Gerald had felt in a lifetime.
+
+As he idly turned the leaves of a magazine, he asked Decker how long
+he had been back in America.
+
+"A couple of months, but I've only been in town two weeks. Sorry to
+hear you are under the weather."
+
+"Oh! I'm a ruin," said Gerald; "a dilapidated, romantic ruin.
+Something's gone wrong in the belfry to-day. Is my face swollen,
+Mater?"
+
+Mrs. Ivy bent over him in instant solicitude.
+
+"I do believe it _is_ swollen, darling; just here. Look, Mr. Decker,
+doesn't it seem a trifle fuller than the other side?"
+
+Cropsie Decker's eye, not being trained by years of maternal
+solicitude, failed to distinguish any difference.
+
+"No matter," said Gerald gloomily; "if it isn't then it's something
+else. What's the news, Decker?"
+
+"The only news for me is this idiotic talk that has been allowed to go
+the rounds about Don Morley. That is what I came to see you about.
+What does Dillingham have to say about it?"
+
+"Oh, you know Dill; he side-steps. The whole thing has blown over here
+months ago; the subject is as extinct as the dodo."
+
+"Well, it won't be extinct long! I've cabled Don to come home, and I
+bet he'll stir things up. There's nothing to hold him now that Margery
+Sequin's broken her engagement."
+
+"So sad!" murmured Mrs. Ivy. "I hope young Mr. Dillingham won't do
+anything desperate. To think of his cup of happiness being dashed from
+his lips--"
+
+The two young men looked at each other and laughed.
+
+"Don't worry about Dill, Mater. He has more than one cup to fall back
+on. It is old man Sequin that may do something desperate. I hear they
+have made no end of a row, but Margery holds her own."
+
+"They say on the street," said Decker, "that Mr. Sequin has been
+counting on the Dillinghams' money to reinforce the bank. He's been
+going it pretty heavy the last two years."
+
+"One cannot live by bread alone," quoted Mrs. Ivy; "our friends have
+been living the material life, they have forgotten that they are but
+stewards, and as stewards will be held accountable for the way they
+use their wealth. Mrs. Sequin makes absolutely no effort to advance
+the progress of the world. She has refused from the first to join the
+A.T.L.A. and she is not even a member of the Woman's Club."
+
+"Well, I hope Mr. Sequin hasn't been playing with Don Morley's money,"
+said Decker, resuming the subject from which Mrs. Ivy had flown off at
+a tangent. "Donald has always left everything to him, and doesn't know
+anything more about his investments than I do. All he is concerned
+with is spending his income, and that keeps him busy."
+
+At this moment Norah appeared with fresh tea and cakes, making her way
+with some difficulty through the labyrinth of red lamps, small tables,
+foot-stools and marble-crowned pedestals that crowded the room.
+
+"Ah!" cried Mrs. Ivy, "here are some of the little cakes, Gerald, that
+you love. You will try one, won't you? We have the greatest time
+tempting his appetite, Mr. Decker. He can only eat what he likes. I
+have always contended with his father that there was some physical
+cause for his craving sweets. I never refused them to him when he was
+a child. But from the time he was born he has never really lived on
+food, he has lived on music."
+
+Gerald, at the moment regaling himself with his second cake, gave
+evidence that he did not rely solely on the sustaining power of music.
+
+"And now, will you excuse me, dear Mr. Decker?" asked Mrs. Ivy,
+gathering her lavender skirts about her. "I am a very, very busy
+woman, and my desk claims much of my time. You will come to us again,
+won't you? Gerald's friends, you know, are my friends. _Good_-by." And
+with a tender pressure of the hand, and a lingering look she was gone.
+
+Gerald waited until the door was closed, then produced cigarettes
+which he proffered to Decker.
+
+"Mater's last hobby is tobacco," he smiled indulgently. "She is going
+to abolish it from the universe. Do you remember how Doctor
+Queerington used to hold forth on the subject at the university?"
+
+"By the way, your mother tells me he has married again. I don't know
+why, but that tickles me. Was she a widow?"
+
+Gerald with his elbows on the arms of his chair and holding his teacup
+with both hands just below the level of his eyes, looked suddenly
+gloomy.
+
+"No," he said. "I wish to Heaven she was one!"
+
+"What's the matter with Old Syllogism? I always thought he was a
+rather good sort."
+
+"I'm not thinking about him!" Gerald said impatiently. "I am thinking
+of the girl. She can't be much older than I am and the most exquisite
+thing you ever beheld. Her coloring is absolutely luminous. She ought
+to be painted by Besnard or La Touche or some of those French chaps
+that make a specialty of light. She positively radiates!"
+
+"How did she ever happen to marry the Doctor?"
+
+"Heaven knows! He captured her in the woods somewhere. I don't suppose
+she had ever seen a man before. Jove! You ought to see her play
+tennis, and to hear her laugh. She's a perfect wonder, as free and
+easy as one of the boys, but straight as a die. Doesn't give a flip
+for money or clothes, or society. Did you ever hear of a really pretty
+girl being like that?"
+
+"I hope Doctor Queerington likes her as well as you do."
+
+"Heavens, man! everybody likes her; you can't help it. But nobody
+understands her. You see they look on her as a child; they haven't the
+faintest conception of what she is going through."
+
+"And you think you have?"
+
+"I know it. She's trying to adjust herself, and she can't. She's
+finding out her mistake and making a game fight to hide it. When she
+first came she went in for everything. She had never played tennis or
+golf, and she got more fun out of learning than anybody I ever saw.
+Then suddenly she stopped. Some old desiccated relative told the
+Doctor it didn't look well for his wife to be running around with the
+young people, and that settled it. She gave up like an angel, and
+she's not the kind that likes to give up either. Now her days are
+devoted to the heavy domestic, and her evenings to improving her mind
+in the Doctor's stuffy old study."
+
+"Talking to the Doctor," confessed Decker, "always affected me like
+looking at Niagara Falls; grand, and imposing and awe-inspiring, but a
+little goes a long way. How is she standing it?"
+
+"Getting thinner and paler and prettier every day. She's a country
+girl, you know, used to horses, and outdoor exercise. She must have
+been beastly homesick, but she's game through and through. It was
+awfully hard for her to bluff at first. That's because she is so
+honest. But she has had to learn. No woman, good or bad, can get
+through life without learning to bluff, only it comes harder for the
+good ones. What's that confounded racket in the street?"
+
+They rose and went to the window, Gerald looking over the shoulder of
+his shorter companion.
+
+A superannuated gray mule hitched to a heavy cart had come to a
+standstill in the middle of the street, and a group of excited negroes
+were vainly trying to induce him to move on. With one ear cocked
+forward, and his forefeet firmly planted, the decrepit animal dumbly
+made his declaration of independence, taking the blows that rained
+upon his back with the dogged heroism of one who has resolved to die
+rather than surrender.
+
+"By Jupiter, if those coons aren't fixing to build a fire under him!"
+exclaimed Decker. "They'd rather fool with a balking mule than eat
+watermelon! Let's go out to see the sport."
+
+When Decker reached the porch, having left Gerald at the hall mirror,
+inspecting his face with minute solicitude, a new figure had appeared
+on the scene. It was a girl dressed in white, standing in the
+Queeringtons' yard, and as he looked he saw her suddenly dart out of
+the gate and into the street as if she had been shot from a cannon.
+
+"Stop pulling his head like that!" she demanded. "Don't you dare to
+strike him again. Take that fire away!"
+
+The negroes fell back somewhat astonished, and the driver arrested his
+whip in the air.
+
+"I'll show you how to make him go," she went on; "put mud in his
+mouth. Yes, mud, a big lump of mud. There, that'll do; make it into a
+ball, and put it in. Yes, you can! Oh, dear! Give it to me!"
+
+She seized the mule's lower jaw with her thumb and forefinger, and
+with a deft movement succeeded in getting the unwelcome substance
+between the animal's teeth.
+
+The mule evinced surprise, then curiosity. His fore feet relaxed, his
+eye lost its fire, and when a gentle pressure fell upon his halter, he
+was too engrossed in the new sensation to resist it.
+
+"Bravo, Miss Lady!" called Gerald, sauntering forward to meet her. "I
+told you you were irresistible. What did you whisper in his ear?"
+
+"Lots of things!" she said, accepting his immaculate handkerchief to
+wipe the mud from her hands, "but of course the mud helped. Uncle
+Jimpson taught me that trick. He says a mule has room in his head for
+only one thought at a time, and all you have to do is to change his
+balking thought for some other and he'll go."
+
+"I hope you will never have to put mud in my mouth," said Gerald,
+looking at her with no attempt to conceal his admiration. "Can't you
+come over and see mother for a bit? She'd love to give you a cup of
+tea."
+
+"I don't like tea in the afternoon; it spoils my supper." "Well, then,
+come over to see me. There's a friend of mine I want you to meet. I've
+been telling him about you."
+
+"I can't. I'm drawing pictures for Bertie. He'll be disappointed."
+
+"So will I. So will Decker."
+
+"Decker?" Miss Lady flashed a glance at him. "You don't mean Cropsie
+Decker?"
+
+"Yes, I do; the special correspondent for the _Herald-Post_. Is that
+sufficient inducement?"
+
+Miss Lady looked at him rather strangely. "I'll come," she said after
+a moment's hesitation.
+
+They did not return to the parlor but to the music-room, a large room
+on the opposite side of the hall, which Mrs. Ivy, a firm believer in
+the psychological effect of color, had fitted out in blue to induce a
+contemplative mood in the occupants. On the mantel and tables were the
+same miscellaneous collection of bric-a-brac that characterized the
+parlor. Several pictures of Gerald adorned the walls, the most
+imposing of which presented him seated at the piano, with his mother
+standing beside him, a rapt expression on her elevated profile.
+
+Miss Lady flitted about from object to object, asking questions, not
+waiting for answers, seeing everything, commenting on everything while
+the two young men stood side by side on the hearth rug and watched
+her. She was like a humming-bird afraid to light.
+
+"Please, Mrs. Queerington," Gerald begged at last. "You know you don't
+care for those old kodaks. I'll show them to you another time. I want
+you to talk to Decker. Sit down here in this big chair and I'll sit at
+your feet, where I belong, and Cropsie'll sit anywhere he likes and
+tell us about his adventures."
+
+"But where's your mother? I thought you said she was serving tea?"
+
+"She'll be down directly. Now, tell us a story, Decker. A man can't
+wander around the Orient for a year without having something exciting
+happen to him."
+
+"I'm afraid I haven't an experiencing nature," said Decker, smiling.
+"You ought to have Morley here. He's the fellow that went over with
+me, Mrs. Queerington. I'll back him against the field for having
+adventures. You remember that big fire last year in Tokyo? Don was the
+first Johnny on the spot, doing the noble hero act, dragging out women
+and children and gallantly fighting the flames, while I lay up in bed
+at the Imperial Hotel and fought mosquitoes! He was in a collision at
+sea, just off the coast of Korea, got mixed up in a Chinese uprising
+in Nanking and was arrested for a spy while taking pictures of the
+fortifications at Miyajima. If I had half his luck I'd be the highest
+priced man in the syndicate."
+
+"I don't know that I particularly envy him his luck in the incident
+that happened here just before he left," said Gerald, lighting a fresh
+cigarette.
+
+"It was nothing to his discredit," said Decker hotly. "He happened to
+be a witness when that fool Dillingham got into a shooting scrape, and
+he left town because he did not want to testify against the man his
+niece was going to marry. He didn't consider the consequences, he
+never does. It was a toss up when I met him in 'Frisco whether he
+would come home, or go on."
+
+"Didn't he know he was indicted?" asked Gerald.
+
+"Certainly not. Neither of us knew it until I got home and found
+people talking about 'Poor Donald Morley,' and acting as if he were a
+refugee from justice. Two or three letters came from Mrs. Sequin, but
+she was so busy urging Don to stay away that she hadn't time to write
+anything else. We did get one old home paper, somewhere in Java, with
+an account of the trial. That was the first intimation Don had that
+Dillingham was throwing off on him. Even then he could scarcely
+believe it; there's nothing in him to understand a man like Lee
+Dillingham."
+
+"But he was with him,--that night at the saloon," ventured Miss Lady,
+sitting up very straight and listening very intently.
+
+Gerald smiled skeptically. "He went in out of the rain, my dear lady;
+that's what he wrote home, I understand; and he didn't indulge in a
+single drink. Rather a strain on the imagination in the light of
+subsequent events."
+
+"See here, Ivy," said Decker, rising and standing before the fire with
+his square jaw thrust out, and the twinkle gone from his eye. "I
+happen to know this story from beginning to end, and we both know Don
+Morley. He's as full of faults as a porcupine is of quills, but he's
+neither a liar nor a coward. If he says he was sober that night I'd
+stake my life he was."
+
+There was an uncomfortable pause during which Gerald tenderly felt his
+afflicted face, and Decker glared at the chandelier.
+
+"He ought to have stayed to explain," said Miss Lady, not daring to
+look up; "a man's first duty is to himself and--and to those who care
+for him."
+
+"That was the trouble," said Decker slowly. "It seems that the one
+person Don cared most about wouldn't listen to an explanation. He
+wrote her full particulars, and asked her to telegraph him if he
+should go or stay. When I met him in 'Frisco he had been waiting for
+that wire for three days, and he was nearly off his head. I got him on
+the steamer almost by main force. We laid over ten days in Honolulu,
+and he got the notion that a letter would be waiting for him in
+Yokohama, and that he would take the next steamer home. All the way
+across I heard about that girl from the time the Chino brought our
+coffee in the morning until we went below again for the night. He all
+but said his prayers to her; cut out everything to drink; even refused
+to play a friendly game of poker. Why, I've tramped so many decks to
+the tune of that girl's charms that I could write a book about her."
+
+"What is her name?" asked Gerald greatly interested.
+
+"Heavens, I don't know! She was a wood nymth, a dryad, a jewel, a
+flower, I could keep it up indefinitely. He had a new one for her
+every day. When we reached Japan, he couldn't wait for the steamer to
+dock but went ashore in the pilot boat, and made a bee line for
+Cook's. There was nothing there. It was like that at every port we
+touched. Each time he would get his hopes up to fever heat, and each
+time he'd be disappointed. I never saw such perseverance and belief.
+He made excuse after excuse for her. He was too proud to write again,
+and he got leaner and leaner and more and more homesick. You know that
+collision I spoke of? Well, he got in that by waiting over a steamer
+at Nagasaki in the hope of getting a letter before he left Japan."
+
+"What happened next?" asked Gerald; "did another planet swim into his
+ken?"
+
+"Hardly. The smash came just before I left him, a couple of months
+ago. We were at Raffles Hotel in Singapore having tea with some French
+girls from the steamer. Our purser happened along and gave Don a
+letter which I recognized as being from Mrs. Sequin. He read the first
+sheet, then looked up in a wild sort of way, and asked if we'd mind
+excusing him as he had something he wanted to see to before the
+steamer sailed. At five o'clock he'd never shown up, and I had to
+hustle our bags ashore and start out to look for him. He'd been
+awfully seedy for a couple of months and when he got left I knew
+something serious had happened. I found him late that night in the
+foreign hospital out of his head with a fever. It seems the letter had
+told him that his girl was going to be married, and half beside
+himself he had gotten into a rikisha, and ridden for hours in the
+tropical sun, trying to face the fact. Of course in the run-down state
+he was in, it put him out of business, and by the time he got back to
+Raffles', he didn't know who he was, nor where he was. I stayed with
+him until the _Herald-Post_ sent for me to come home. Maybe you don't
+think I hated to leave the old chap, in that God-forsaken country,
+lying flat on his back, staring at the ceiling, with all his illusions
+smashed."
+
+"Did he want to come with you?" asked Gerald.
+
+"He didn't want anything. He had wanted one thing so long there was no
+more want left in him. I tried to get him to let me engage passage for
+him on the next home-bound steamer. But he said he doubted if he'd
+ever come back, that as soon as he was able to travel he would go on
+around the world, and that it didn't make much difference where he
+landed."
+
+"Quite a tragic little romance," Gerald said. "What a lot of mischief
+you women have to answer for, Mrs. Q.!"
+
+But Miss Lady did not hear him, she was still leaning forward absorbed
+in Decker's narrative.
+
+"If he comes home, in answer to your cable, when can he get here?" she
+asked.
+
+"Not before Christmas I should say."
+
+"If I were Lee Dillingham I should go South for the winter," Gerald
+said, going to the piano and striking a few random chords.
+
+After Cropsie Decker left, Miss Lady sat very quiet in the big chair,
+while Gerald played to her. It was well that only the kindly old bust
+of Liszt looked down on her tense white face, and clasped hands.
+
+For over two months she had been fighting a specter, never daring to
+lift her eyes to it, but fighting it blindly, passionately,
+unceasingly. She had denied its existence, refuted every memory,
+filled her life to the brim with other interests, other affections,
+and here suddenly she had met it face to face, and it was no longer
+horrible, but a beautiful, radiant vision, a thing to be buried in her
+innermost being, a sacred, solemn thing, not to be looked at, or dwelt
+upon, but no longer to be denied.
+
+The stormy, insistent strains of the "Appassionata" filled the room,
+surging through every fiber of her, lifting and abasing her by turns.
+How could she get hold of herself while Gerald played like that? She
+was sinking in a great sea of emotion and the music swept about her
+like a mighty gale, shutting out everything in the world but Donald
+Morley. He had not failed her, it was she who had failed him. He was
+coming home, and it was too late. She would have to meet him face to
+face, to see all that he had suffered in his eyes and speak no word.
+Surely she might give him this one hour, just while the music lasted;
+give it to him and to herself for the lifetime together they had
+missed.
+
+She did not know when the music stopped, she did not know when Gerald
+came back to the hassock at her feet. He had evidently been there some
+time when she was aware of his elbow on the arm of her chair, and his
+head buried in it.
+
+"Gerald!" she said, starting up; "what's the matter?"
+
+"Everything. Is that your trouble?"
+
+"What do you mean?"
+
+"I mean that you are unhappy," he said, catching her hand.
+
+She sprang to her feet and snapped on the electric lights.
+
+"Do I look as if I were unhappy?" she demanded, flashing on him her
+old, bright smile. "It was the music, and the twilight, and the way
+you played. That sonata ought never to be played except in a crowded
+room with all the lights on."
+
+"It wasn't the music," Gerald persisted; "you know it wasn't.
+Something's troubling you, and something is troubling me. May I tell
+you what is the matter with me, Miss Lady?"
+
+He was looking at her very intently across the table, and Miss Lady
+for the first time recognized the danger signals in his eyes.
+
+"Let me guess!" she cried, her wits springing to her rescue. "I think
+I know. I thought so when I first came in. It's mumps!"
+
+Gerald's hand flew instinctively to his face, and his eyes sought the
+mirror. Miss Lady, in applying to Gerald Ivy, Uncle Jimpson's remedy
+for a balking mule, had averted a disaster.
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XV
+
+
+Time was an abstraction of which the inhabitants of Bean Alley took
+little notice. The arbitrary division of one's life into weeks and
+days and hours seemed, on the whole, useless. There was but one day
+for the men, and that was pay day, and one for the women, and that was
+rent day. As for the children, every day was theirs, just as it should
+be in every corner of the world.
+
+On this particular fall afternoon, just outside Phineas Flathers'
+cottage, a lively game was in progress. It was a game known in Bean
+Alley as "Sockabout," and it had to do with caps or battered hats laid
+in a row, and with a small rubber ball that was thrown into them from
+a distance. Like many other apparently simple diversions, Sockabout
+had its complexities. In fact, the rules admitted of so many
+interpretations that an umpire was indispensable.
+
+Under ordinary circumstances Chick Flathers would have scorned so
+passive a role as umpire, but to-day he was handicapped. In the first
+place he had no cap to contribute to the row on the ground, and in the
+second he was burdened with a very large and wriggly bundle, which
+gave evidence of marked disfavor the moment he ceased to jolt it
+violently on his knees.
+
+In the midst of an unusually fierce altercation, in which four boys
+contended for the same cap, Skeeter Sheeley's voice rose above the
+clamor.
+
+"It's our turn! Umpire says so, didn't you, Chick? Aw, you did, too! I
+kin understand you better 'n you kin understand yourself. 'Course it's
+ours. Stop shovin' me, Gussie McGlory, I'll swat yer in the jaw in a
+minute! Look out, Chick! Look out fer the kid!"
+
+The youngest resident of Bean Alley was probably saved from premature
+death by the timely appearance of two ladies at the far end of the
+street.
+
+Chick, recognizing the younger one, started joyfully to meet her, but
+at sight of her companion he stopped short. For two years he had
+regarded that plump, smiling, elderly lady as his arch enemy. She was
+after him. She wanted to put him in something that sounded like "The
+Willows Awful Home." Once she had almost gotten him, but Aunt 'Tella
+interposed. He was not afraid of the truant officer, nor of the cop,
+although they were generally after him, too, but he had horrible
+nightmares in which he saw himself being dragged into captivity by
+this bland lady in the purple dress, who always smiled.
+
+Just as he was seeking a hiding-place sufficiently large to
+accommodate himself and his charge, he was summoned home. Considerable
+commotion was apparent in the crowded kitchen and Mr. Flathers was
+moving about with an alacrity unusual to him.
+
+"Git off your shoes and stockings, Chick, and turn your coat inside
+out. Here, I'll hold the baby; yer Mammy's nursing the other one.
+Shove that beer can under the stove, and hide that there cuckoo
+clock."
+
+Chick followed instructions with the air of one who understood the
+situation. It was not the first time he had prepared hurriedly for
+visitors.
+
+"They're stopping at Jireses'," reported Mr. Flathers from the window.
+"Here, take this kid and set out there on the door-step. Don't you
+dare budge till they've saw you and spoke to you."
+
+Chick resumed his position on the door-step with a heavy heart. The
+line of battle had been pushed south, and he was completely out of the
+firing line.
+
+His bare feet and legs were cold in the biting November air, and he
+had jolted the baby until he felt there were no more jolts left in
+him. It was, moreover, a terrifying business to sit there and calmly
+wait his fate.
+
+"Them's them!" announced Skeeter Sheeley, racing down the alley. "They
+give Mr. Jires some oranges. If they give you one, you goin' to gimme
+half?"
+
+Chick was too miserable to answer. The bars of an institution seemed
+to be already closing upon him.
+
+Mrs. Ivy, holding her skirts very high and picking her way gingerly
+around the frozen puddles, was the first to reach him.
+
+"Ah! Here's our good little friend Rick, or Dick, is it? And this is
+the sweet little baby sister that God sent you."
+
+"Naw it ain't," said Skeeter; "that there's a boy, an' it ain't no kin
+to him. Its paw's in the pen, an' its maw's up fer ninety days, an'
+its jes' boardin' at his house."
+
+"The case that was reported for the Home," said Mrs. Ivy, turning with
+a significant nod to her companion who had just come up.
+
+At the word "home" Chick shuddered. It was the most terrible word in
+the English language to him.
+
+"What's the matter with your thumb, old fellow?" Miss Lady asked,
+seeing his frightened look. "Come here, Skeeter, and tell me what he
+says."
+
+She relieved Chick of the young person whose parents were not in a
+position to minister to his wants, and sat on the door-step between
+the two boys, listening with flattering attention to a detailed
+description of each hero's wounds and scars and how they had been
+received.
+
+Mrs. Ivy, meanwhile, a veritable spider in the midst of a web of
+institutions, was warily planning to ensnare every helpless, poverty-
+stricken fly that came her way. To her, the web was not made for the
+fly, but the fly for the web; supplying flies was her chief
+occupation.
+
+Standing just inside the kitchen door with her skirts still gathered
+carefully about her, she viewed her surroundings with mournful
+sympathy.
+
+"The fact are," Phineas was saying as he held his coat together at the
+collar, in a pretended effort to conceal his lack of a shirt, "that we
+ain't been prosperin' since you was last here. Looks like the hand of
+the Lord--"
+
+"Ah, Mr. Flathers," remonstrated Mrs. Ivy, with a finger on her lip,
+"never forget that whom He loveth He chasteneth."
+
+"I don't, Mrs. Ivy, I don't. I keep that in mind. If it wasn't fer
+that, Mrs. Ivy, I declare I don't know what I would do. Now you comin'
+to-day was a answer to prayer! I just ast that some way would be
+pervided 'fore the rent man come back at six o'clock. I didn't say in
+my prayer _what_ way, I just said _a_ way, that _a_ way would be
+pervided. And when I seen you and the young lady turnin' in the alley,
+I sez to Maria, 'never try to shake my faith no more, the clouds has
+been lifted!'"
+
+Mrs. Ivy, who was much more given to dispensing morals than money,
+shifted her position.
+
+"Mr. Flathers," she said, looking at him with what she conceived to be
+a searching glance, "do you ever drink?"
+
+Assuring himself that Chick had gotten the can quite out of sight,
+Phineas looked at her reproachfully:
+
+"Me? Why, Mrs. Ivy, I thought everybody knowed that since I joined the
+Church--of course I ain't denying that there _was_ a time when I
+knowed the taste of liquor. There ain't no good denying that, and,
+besides confession is good fer me, it humbles my spirit, Mrs. Ivy, it
+keeps me from being a publican."
+
+"And tobacco?" queried Mrs. Ivy. "Liquor and tobacco go hand in hand,
+they are twin evils. Are you addicted to the use of tobacco?"
+
+"Not me!" said Phineas, truthfully for once. "I ain't soiled my lips
+with a seegar for over twenty years, and you couldn't git me to chew
+if you chloroformed me. Ef liquor is the drink, terbaccer is the food
+of the devil, as I see it." Mrs. Ivy beamed upon him, as she opened
+the silver bag at her belt. "I shall report your case at our next
+meeting," she said with enthusiasm. "I shall quote your very words.
+And now I am going to pin this little badge on you, this little white
+badge that tells the world you belong to the Anti-Tobacco League. You
+have the honor of wearing what few of our greatest statesmen can wear!
+You have proven that a humble laborer can lead the way to Reform."
+
+Miss Lady appeared at this point with the Boarder, who like most
+individuals of his class, complained continuously of the quantity and
+quality of his food.
+
+"You find us in a bad way, Mis' Squeerington," Phineas said, offering
+her a bottomless chair with the air of a Christian martyr. "If my
+sister Myrtella knowed the half of what we was passin' through she
+wouldn't continue to steel her heart against us."
+
+"Myrtella's heart's all right," said Miss Lady cheerfully; "she takes
+care of Chick, doesn't she?"
+
+"She does, mam, in a way. But there's heavy expenses on a pore man
+with a family. Mrs. Flathers now ain't been able to have a see-ance
+since before the baby come. She did give one trance settin' yesterday,
+but she says she don't know what's got into her, she feels so sort of
+weak like!"
+
+"How long has she been taking care of this other baby?" Miss Lady
+asked.
+
+"Most ever since ours come. The Juvenile Court was looking round fer
+some one to nurse him till his maw got out of the jail hospital. I sez
+to Maria, 'Here's a chanct to do a good Christian act an' earn a
+honest penny. We'll take it in an' treat it like our own, sez I, an'
+the Lord will not fergit us, sez I!"
+
+The Boarder, taking advantage of this assurance of hospitality, set up
+such a peremptory demand for food, that Miss Lady was compelled to
+walk the floor with him.
+
+"Where is Mrs. Flathers?" she asked in despair. "Can't we give him a
+bottle or something?"
+
+Maria, more limp, and inanimate than usual, came out of the dim
+interior of the adjoining room, carrying a yet more limp and inanimate
+bundle which she exchanged with Miss Lady for hers, and silently
+retired into the inner room where she was followed by Mrs. Ivy.
+
+"An' this here is ours!" exclaimed Phineas, bending with sudden
+enthusiasm over the child in Miss Lady's arms, and tenderly lifting
+the shawl from the weazened face and tiny claw-like hands. "This here
+is Loreny. There ain't nary one of the rest of 'em lived over two
+weeks, an' this here one is goin' on four. Kinder looks like we're
+goin' to keep her with us, don't it?"
+
+Miss Lady could find no answer. The white lips and the blue circles
+about the small, sunken eyes, bespoke the same disinclination to risk
+life under such circumstances as had been shown by all the other
+little Flatherses.
+
+"Course she ain't like that other baby," Phineas went on with genuine
+earnestness, "but then he's a boy, an' eats more. She's goin' to git
+fat an' pretty, ain't you, Loreny?"
+
+He put his coarse brown thumb into the little hand which closed about
+it and clung to it, and sat watching her, unmindful of his visitor.
+
+"She don't look what you'd call strong," he went on, anxiously, "but
+you wouldn't say she was sick, would you?"
+
+"I am afraid I should," Miss Lady said gravely; "she looks very sick
+to me."
+
+"She does? Then I'd better git the doctor," Phineas rose hurriedly,
+then sat down again. "But he never done the others no good. Maria
+always contended it was him that killed 'em. Ain't there somethin' we
+kin do? Don't you know somethin'?"
+
+"Yes, I think I do, only you may not be willing to do it."
+
+"You try me. I'll do anything you say, Miss. If the Lord will only
+spare her--"
+
+"It's not the Lord that's taking her," Miss Lady cried impatiently,
+"it's you that are sending her, Mr. Flathers. Can't you see that you
+are killing your baby?"
+
+He looked at her in amazed horror.
+
+"Yes, you are!" went on Miss Lady fiercely, "you are selling her food
+to another baby; you are letting her mother work so hard that she can
+scarcely nourish herself. Just look at Mrs. Flathers! Anybody can see
+that if she had better food and less to do she'd be a different
+person."
+
+"Oh, Maria was real pretty onct," Phineas said somewhat resentfully,
+"but when a man marries one of them slim little blondes he never knows
+what he's gittin'. They sort of shrink up on yer an' git faded an'
+stringy."
+
+"Yes, but think what she got," said Miss Lady determined to press the
+matter home. "Myrtella says you were a strong, handsome young man, who
+could have turned your hand to almost anything, and look at you now! A
+broken-down loafer, sitting around the saloons, talking religion while
+your baby starves. I don't wonder Myrtella is ashamed of you, I am
+ashamed of you, and if this poor little girl ever lives to grow up,
+she will be ashamed of you, too!"
+
+"No, no," cried Phineas brokenly, his head in his hands, "she won't be
+that--if the Lord,--I mean if she lives, I'll be a better man, Mis'
+Squeerington, indeed I will. Nobody ever will know in the world how
+much I want children of my own. That's why I 'dopted Chick--that's one
+reason I took in this new one. Seemed like as if my baby went--"
+
+"We'll try to keep her," Miss Lady said with a rush of sympathy. "I'll
+do everything I can but you must help, Mr. Flathers. You are willing
+to do your part, aren't you?"
+
+His emotions, used to responding to false stimulants, being now
+appealed to by the one genuine feeling in him, threatened to become
+uncontrolled.
+
+"There, there!" Miss Lady said, "if you really want to save her, I
+think there's a way."
+
+"Not a Orphan's Home?" asked Phineas, lifting one eye from the baby's
+petticoat where his head had been buried.
+
+"No, a clean home of her own. There's no reason why you shouldn't go
+to work, Mr. Flathers, and support your family decently. I'll take
+Chick home with me. Myrtella will be glad to have him for a little
+visit. Mrs. Ivy is going to send the other baby to the Foundling's
+Home. Then you'll only have to look after Mrs. Flathers and the baby;
+you surely can do that, can't you?"
+
+"Yes 'm, I kin do that. 'Course any man kin do that. But I been out of
+a regular job so long, you'd sorter help me find something to start
+on?"
+
+"I'll get you something to do, if you will only stick to it. Perhaps
+Mrs. Sequin can give you work at her new house. She gave our old
+colored man, Uncle Jimpson, a place."
+
+"Jes' so it ain't garden work, nor gittin' up coal, nor nothin' that
+brings on rheumatism."
+
+"Have you rheumatism?"
+
+"No, mam, Praise God! I have escaped this far by bein' kereful. You
+know what it means, Mis' Squeerington, when a man with a family gits
+down with the rheumatism. There's Jires, now--"
+
+"Yes, and Mr. Jires does more for his family lying flat on his back
+than you do for yours, up and walking around! You're not fooling me
+one bit, Mr. Flathers, and there's no use trying to fool yourself. You
+either mean seriously to go to work or you don't. Which is it?"
+
+Phineas Flathers' strong impulse was to flee the scene. He saw his
+liberty vanishing before the awful prospect held out by this pretty
+young lady who could be so sympathetic one moment and so stern the
+next. But the tiny claw-like fingers of Loreny held him fast. He
+looked at his imprisoned thumb and smiled tenderly. Then he faced Miss
+Lady squarely for the first time.
+
+"You help me git a job, Miss, an' I'll promise to take keer of this
+here baby."
+
+"What you need," came the murmur of Mrs. Ivy's voice from the next
+room, where she was taking leave of Maria Flathers, "is more beauty in
+your home, something to uplift you and inspire you. I am going to send
+you one of our traveling art galleries, you may keep the pictures a
+whole week, long enough to learn the titles and the names of the
+painters. Just think what it will mean to lift your tired eyes to a
+beautiful, serene Madonna! And couldn't you have more color in your
+home? We find color so stimulating. Scarlet geraniums for instance.
+Wouldn't you like some scarlet geraniums?"
+
+"I dunno where we'd put 'em at," Maria said wearily, shifting the
+weight of the Boarder to her other arm. Then her face hardened
+suddenly, and she wheeled into the kitchen.
+
+"Flathers," she said, "it's him coming round the house now. He said
+he'd be back before six, an' wouldn't stand no foolin'. What you goin'
+to do, Flathers?"
+
+Before Miss Lady and Mrs. Ivy could make their exit, the way was
+blocked by a heavy-set, muscular, one-eyed man who placed a hand on
+either side of the door jamb and unnecessarily announced that there he
+was. Frantic efforts on the part of Phineas to signify to the newcomer
+by winks and gestures, that the presence of guests would prevent his
+talking business, were without effect.
+
+"You ladies'll have to excuse me," said the intruder cheerfully, "but
+I can't fool with this bunch no longer. It's pay, or git out, this
+time and no mistake."
+
+Maria began to cry, and forgot to jolt the Boarder, and the Boarder
+who insisted upon being jolted every instant he was not sleeping or
+eating, began to cry also. Whereupon Loreny, who had been laid upon
+the kitchen table, heard the noise and felt called upon to add her
+voice to the chorus.
+
+By this time Chick and his colleagues, scenting excitement from afar,
+had followed its trail and now presented themselves breathless and
+interested to await developments. "Puttin' out" was not a particular
+novelty in Bean Alley, but the presence of guests added a picturesque
+feature.
+
+"If you can wait a week longer," said Phineas with some attempt at
+dignity, "I'll be in a position to settle up to date. I'm expectin' to
+git a job--"
+
+At this the rent man threw back his head and laughed, and the
+youngsters back of him laughed, and even the Boarder stopped crying a
+moment to see what had happened.
+
+"But he really is," insisted Miss Lady, coming to Phineas' assistance.
+"He's going to work the first of the week. Surely you can wait a week
+longer."
+
+"I can, Miss!" said the man in the door, gallantly. "I been waiting a
+week longer on Flathers for more'n two months. There ain't absolutely
+no use in arguing the matter further. It's pay up, or git out,
+_to-day_."
+
+"Well, if this ain't the limit!" said Phineas, with the air of one who
+had reached it many times before, but never such a limitless limit as
+this.
+
+"But if we pay this month's rent for him, can't you let him make up
+the back rent later?" argued Miss Lady, trying to comfort Maria who
+threatened to become hysterical.
+
+"When you've known Flathers as long as I have, you won't talk about
+him paying up."
+
+"But you can't put them out like this, with that little baby and no
+place to go!"
+
+"There's the Charity Organization, and the Alms House," suggested Mrs.
+Ivy, wiping her eyes through sympathy.
+
+"I'd hate to drive 'em to that," said the man doggedly, "but I got my
+own family to consider, and I ain't what I once was, since I lost my
+eye."
+
+"Poor man," sighed Mrs. Ivy; "how fortunate It was the left one! How
+did it happen?"
+
+"Shot out," said the man, nothing loath to enter into particulars. "In
+a scrap between a pair of young swells that was hangin' round my
+place. Shot out in cold blood when I wasn't lookin'."
+
+"But, my good man, didn't you prosecute?" asked Mrs. Ivy. "You know we
+have a Legal Aid Society for just such cases as yours."
+
+[Illustration: Maria began to cry, and forgot to jolt the Boarder]
+
+"Yes'm, but one of the young gentlemen skipped the country, lit out
+fer foreign parts, took to the tall timber, as you might say."
+
+"But he was not the one who did the shooting, was he?" asked Miss
+Lady, a sudden bright spot on either cheek, and the steady
+determination in her eye that had been Flathers' undoing.
+
+"I ain't never been able to say which one done it," said the man,
+faltering under her steady gaze.
+
+"Perhaps it was worth your while not to say?"
+
+The man shot a quick glance of suspicion at her, then his eye came
+back to Phineas.
+
+"Of course, I don't want to push him into the Poor House, and if he
+expects to get work--"
+
+"I do, Dick," said Phineas fervently. "Monday morning I put my
+shoulder-blade to the wheel somewhere."
+
+"Well, if the ladies'll stand for this month," said the man, evidently
+anxious to get away, "I'll wait a week longer on the back rent."
+
+Miss Lady was preoccupied and silent on the way home. The world
+sometimes seemed desperately sordid, and human nature a baffling
+proposition.
+
+At her gate Mrs. Ivy halted suddenly: "Do you know," she said, "it has
+just occurred to me! I shouldn't be one bit surprised if that horrid
+one-eyed man was the very one Mr. Morley shot!"
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XVI
+
+
+Christmas night on Billy-goat Hill, and twinkling lights, beginning
+with candles set in bottles in the humblest cottages in Bean Alley,
+dotted the hillside here and there, until they all seemed to converge
+at one brilliant spot on the summit, where a veritable halo of light
+hung above the hilltop.
+
+For Angora Heights was having a house-warming, and never since old Bob
+Carsey brought home his young bride from Alabama, had such
+preparations been known for a social function. All the carriages in
+the neighborhood had been pressed into service, and a half dozen
+motors had been sent out from town to convey the guests from the
+station to the house.
+
+Within the mansion everything was magnificently new. Period rooms,
+carried out with conscientious accuracy, opened into each other
+through arcaded doorways. Massive gilt mirrors accentuated the wide
+spaces of the hall, and repeated the lights of innumerable
+chandeliers. If a stray memory or an old association had by any chance
+crept into the Christmas ball, it would have found no familiar object
+on which to dwell. The atmosphere was as formal and impersonal as that
+of a museum.
+
+In the middle of the drawing-room, like a general issuing last orders
+before a battle, stood Mrs. Sequin, her ample figure encased in an
+armor of glistening black spangles, and her elaborately puffed
+coiffure surmounted by an incipient helmet of blazing gems.
+
+"Pull those portieres back a trifle," she commanded, "and lower that
+window from the top. Has Jimpson gone to the station for the
+Queeringtons?"
+
+"Yes, madam, half an hour ago," answered the maid.
+
+"The moment he returns tell him that he is to take the small wagon and
+go back to the station at ten o'clock. The caterer has just 'phoned
+that he is sending the extra ices out on the last train, but that he
+cannot send another waiter. Jenkins, leaving the way he did, has upset
+everything. I suppose it is too late to get anybody now; the special
+car gets here at nine. What is that noise? It sounds like some one
+singing in the dining-room."
+
+"It's the new furnace man, madam, that Mrs. Queerington sent. It looks
+like he can't keep himself quiet."
+
+"I'll quiet him!" said Mrs. Sequin, who was as near irritation as full
+dress would permit.
+
+Phineas Flathers, having replenished the fire, was pausing a moment to
+admire himself in the Dutch mirror above the mantel when Mrs. Sequin
+startled him by inquiring peremptorily if he was the new man.
+
+"I am," said Phineas with pronounced deference, "_the_ new man and _a_
+new man. Regenerated, born again, mam, the spirit of evil having
+departed from me."
+
+Mrs. Sequin gasped. "What is your name?"
+
+"Flathers, mam."
+
+"Dreadful! I will call you Benson."
+
+"Benson it is. Better men than me have changed their names. There was
+Saul now, Saul of Tarsus--"
+
+"Turn the drafts off in the furnace and don't come up-stairs again on
+any account. But no,--wait a moment." Mrs. Sequin's keen eye swept him
+from head to foot. "Have you ever had any experience in serving?"
+
+Phineas, whose only claim to serving was that "they also serve who
+only stand and wait," dropped his eyes.
+
+"Only the communion, mam, and the collection. But I ain't above
+lending a hand, mam. You'd do as much for me. I was just saying to the
+lady in the kitchen, that anybody was fortunate to work for a person
+with as generous a face as yours."
+
+"Clean yourself up, and put on Jenkins' coat, and if another waiter is
+absolutely necessary, they can call on you," directed Mrs. Sequin
+hurriedly, then calling to the maid, "Has Miss Margery come down yet?"
+
+"She's in the library, mam."
+
+Margery, pale and listless, turned from the window as her mother
+entered.
+
+"I was just watching for Miss Lady," she said; "it will be rather
+amusing to see her and Connie at their first big party."
+
+"I hope she won't wear that childish dress she was married in. It is
+all right for Connie to affect white muslin and blue ribbons, but
+Cousin John's wife ought to wear something that makes her look older.
+Why, with that short gown, and the way she wears her hair, she looks
+like a schoolgirl!"
+
+"She looks very beautiful."
+
+"Of course she does, but what good does it do her? Here at the end of
+four months she has made practically no headway. Not that she didn't
+have every opportunity! People were quite ready to take her up, but
+she simply wouldn't let them. What can you expect of a person who says
+that bridge and boned gowns make her back ache? She hasn't an idea in
+her head beyond the Doctor, the children and a lot of paupers. I must
+say I am terribly disappointed in her. But then I ought to be used to
+disappointments by this time. What will she be when she's middle-
+aged?"
+
+"She'll never be middle-aged," Margery smiled; "she'll go on being
+young and making people around her feel young. Father says she is the
+only person he knows who makes him forget his age. By the way, where
+is Father?"
+
+"Delayed in town as usual. He'll probably motor out when the evening
+is half over and be too tired to be polite. I've never seen him so
+upset. Of course it's your broken engagement. He says we may have to
+close the house, now that we've gotten into it, and go abroad to
+reduce expenses, but of course that's ridiculous! That reminds me, did
+the Hortons send regrets?"
+
+"She did," said Margery absently.
+
+"Oh, dear, that means he'll be here! He's so horribly fastidious, he's
+sure to make remarks about my putting an Italian loggia on a Louis XVI
+drawing-room. It does seem that with all the time and money we've
+spent on this place--Isn't that the carriage?"
+
+"Yes, I hear Miss Lady laughing."
+
+As the front door swung open two bundled-up figures hurried into the
+hall, bringing a gust of youth and merriment along with the keen night
+air.
+
+"I hope we are the first guests," cried Miss Lady, shaking a scarf
+from her head, "because we have had an accident. We both fell down.
+Connie slipped on the step and I sat down on top of her. There was an
+awful rip and we don't know whose it is! I'm afraid to take my coat
+off!"
+
+"But where is the Doctor?" cried Mrs. Sequin in dismay.
+
+"Father would love to have come," began Connie glibly, but Miss Lady
+broke in: "I don't think he really wanted to come, Mrs. Sequin. He
+said he would be ever so much happier up in his study, playing
+pinocle, than sitting out here in a straight-back gilt chair eating
+ice cream. Perhaps you think I oughtn't to have come without him?"
+
+"Nonsense!" exclaimed Mrs. Sequin. "I get perfectly exasperated when
+Cousin John does this way. There were at least a half dozen people I'd
+promised to introduce to him. If he had no consideration for me he
+ought to have for you. He has been keeping you at home entirely too
+much. He forgets that you are twenty years his junior; he expects you
+to act as if you were forty."
+
+"No, he doesn't," protested Miss Lady loyally; "the Doctor never
+expects anything of anybody that isn't right. He urged me to come,
+didn't he, Connie?"
+
+But Connie was absorbed in a trailing flounce that hung limply about
+her feet.
+
+"Look!" she cried tragically; "it's torn clear across the front. What
+shall I do?"
+
+"Margery's gowns would all be too long for you," said Mrs. Sequin,
+viewing the rent through her lorgnette, "perhaps Marie can do
+something with this."
+
+"I won't wear it all tacked up!" cried Connie on the verge of tears;
+"I'll go home first--"
+
+"No, you won't," said Miss Lady; "this is your first grown-up party
+and you've been counting on it for weeks. You are going to change
+dresses with me. I don't mind a bit being hiked up a little, and,
+besides, nobody's going to notice me."
+
+"That's perfectly absurd!" exclaimed Mrs. Sequin indignantly; "you
+_must_ remember who you are, and that everybody is noticing you. Why
+can't _you_ wear one of Margery's dresses, and let Connie have yours?"
+
+"All right, I'll wear anything you say. Don't you dare cry, Connie!
+I'll never forgive you if you make your nose red. Listen! The
+musicians are tuning up! May I have the first waltz, madam?" and
+seizing Mrs. Sequin by her plump gloved hands, she danced that august
+person down the long hall.
+
+"Let me go, you ridiculous child," laughed Mrs. Sequin, hurrying her
+up the steps; "the motors are coming up the hill now. Make her look as
+pretty as you can, Marie, and hurry!"
+
+At a distance the brilliant, moving lights of automobiles and the
+dimmer ones of carriages could be seen approaching, and very soon
+under the blaze of the porch lights, hurrying figures in furs,
+rustling satin, and soft velvets were being ushered formally into the
+big reception hall.
+
+Mrs. Sequin, mounted on her highest social stilts, stood with Margery
+in the alcove, so carefully planned for another occasion. A ball to be
+sure was a poor substitute for a wedding, but Mrs. Sequin was not one
+to waste her energies on vain regret. The ball was going to be a
+success; already the rooms were filling rapidly with the people Mrs.
+Sequin most desired to see. Old Mrs. Marchmont had risen from a sick
+bed to drive out from town and bare her ancient bones in honor of the
+occasion. Mrs. Bartrum had taken possession of the most becoming
+corner in the library and was holding gay court there; the young
+people were thronging from one room to another; everybody was laughing
+and chatting and exclaiming over the charms of the new house. In fact
+the complacency of the hostess over her achievement was only surpassed
+by the curiosity of the guests who were confirming with their own eyes
+the wild rumors which had been current of the Sequins' extravagance.
+
+Mr. Horton, the local architect who had not been considered of
+sufficient renown to make the plans for the house, wandered from room
+to room on a quiet tour of inspection. Mrs. Sequin's fears of his
+judgment were not without cause, for Mr. Horton was one of those
+critics whose advice one always ignores but whose approval one
+ardently desires. He was a trim, immaculate person with short, pointed
+beard, and narrow, critical eyes that always seemed to be taking
+measurements. Passing from the Dutch dining-room, with its blue tile,
+and old pewter, he paused in the doorway of the drawing-room where the
+dancing had already begun. His glance, taking in everything from the
+gilded fluting of the panels to the bronze heads on the upright lines
+of the marble mantels, rested at last upon an object which evidently
+gave his critical taste complete satisfaction.
+
+A young girl had paused near him and was eagerly watching the dancers.
+She presented a harmony in green and gold, from her shining hair
+caught in a loose coil low on her neck, to her small gold slippers
+that tapped time to the music. The clinging gown of pale green that
+fell in loose lines from her shoulders was veiled in deep-toned lace,
+revealing her round white throat and long shapely arms, bare from
+shoulder to finger tips. Horton smiled unconsciously as he watched her
+eager, responsive face, and felt the suppressed vitality in every
+movement of her slender body.
+
+"Who is she?" he asked of Cropsie Decker, who stood near.
+
+"Who's who?"
+
+"That radiant young thing in green. She doesn't belong in a ballroom,
+she belongs in a forest with ivy leaves in her hair. By Jove, look at
+the lines of her, and the freedom of her movements. I haven't seen
+such arms in years!"
+
+Cropsie followed his glance: "Oh, that's the new Mrs. Queerington,--
+the wife of John Jay, you know."
+
+"But I mean the young girl going through the door there, with the
+wonderful hair, and the profile?"
+
+"That's Mrs. Queerington. Isn't she a stunner? Everybody's talking
+about her to-night. I'll introduce you if you like."
+
+Horton followed him around the outer edge of the dancers, still
+confident that Cropsie had made a mistake. But when he was duly
+presented there was no longer room for doubt.
+
+"I hope I'm not too late to claim a dance," he said. "I always make it
+a point to dance but once during an evening, and that with the most
+beautiful woman on the floor. I hope you aren't going to let these
+young sharks cut me out of my dance?"
+
+Miss Lady lifted a pair of sparkling, excited eyes to his. From the
+moment when she had appeared, half timidly in her borrowed feathers
+and taken refuge under Mrs. Sequin's experienced wing, she had been
+the sensation of the evening. Adroitly conveyed from one group to
+another she had left enthusiasm in her wake. She was evidently
+enjoying to the utmost the novelty of receiving homage from one black-
+coated courtier after another, and of hearing delightful things about
+herself. The only apparent drawback to her pleasure was when she was
+compelled to say as she did now:
+
+"Thank you ever so much, but I'm not dancing."
+
+"Not dancing?" repeated Mr. Horton, not unmindful of the whiteness of
+her shoulders against the dark marble of a neighboring pedestal,--
+'"Why not?"
+
+"The Doctor and I have given up dancing."
+
+"Oh, so he doesn't allow you to dance?"
+
+"Allow me?" she lifted her level brows, smiling. "He simply doesn't
+care for it."
+
+"And you don't care for it either?"
+
+"Oh, yes, I do, I care for it too much. That's why I'm not dancing."
+
+"But you _are_ dancing. You've been dancing ever since you came in.
+I've watched you. Mightn't you just as well be dancing with me, as
+dancing by yourself?"
+
+She laughed and shook her head, but her foot continued to pat the
+time, and her eyes followed the swaying couples that swung past.
+
+"What's the Doctor's objection?" Mr. Horton urged.
+
+"He thinks it's undignified for married women to dance, and I guess I
+do, too, only--" Miss Lady sighed,--"you see, I keep forgetting that I
+_am_ a married woman!"
+
+"You certainly make other people want to forget it," then his eyes
+dropped before the childlike candor of her gaze. "Come now, Mrs.
+Queerington, aren't you taking matrimony a little seriously?"
+
+ "Perhaps I am, but I'm new, you know, and I've an awful lot to
+learn."
+
+"Hasn't it ever occurred to you that the Doctor might have something
+to learn?"
+
+"No," she said brightly, "he knows everything. I sometimes wish he
+didn't. I'd be proud if I could teach him even _that_ much!" and she
+measured off the amount on the tip of her little finger.
+
+"Perhaps he isn't as good a pupil as you are. You should take him to
+see 'Harnessing a Husband,' at the Ardmore this week."
+
+"A play? I'd love to go to the theater just once."
+
+"You've never been? How extraordinary! Come with Mrs. Horton and me on
+Friday night and let us share your first thrill."
+
+"May I?" Miss Lady began eagerly, then checking herself, "I'm afraid
+the Doctor doesn't care much about the modern stage. He used to enjoy
+seeing the great actors, but he says the plays they put on now bore
+him fearfully. Mayn't we come to call sometime instead?"
+
+"As you like," said Mr. Horton, shrugging, "but I hope you realize
+that you are spoiling that learned husband of yours. Instead of
+adapting yourself to him, make him adapt himself to you. Come now,
+isn't it about time for you to reform? Why not begin by finishing this
+dance with me?"
+
+Still she laughed and shook her head. "It isn't that I don't want to!
+I'd rather dance than do anything in the world--except ride
+horseback."
+
+"I might have known you were a horsewoman. Do you ride much?"
+
+"Not now."
+
+"The Doctor doesn't care for it, I suppose?"
+
+She flashed a questioning glance at him, then she looked away:
+
+"No," she said, "he doesn't care for it."
+
+Cropsie Decker, who had been hovering in her vicinity, now came up and
+claimed the next number.
+
+"There's a bully little corner in the conservatory where we can sit
+out this waltz. You won't mind if I carry her off, Mr. Horton?"
+
+"Not if she takes to heart some of the wise things I've been telling
+her," said Horton, looking at her through his narrow eyes and pulling
+at his small, fair mustache. "Au revoir, Madame Beaux Yeux!"
+
+Miss Lady did not move from the spot where he left her. Out under the
+palms in the hall, the orchestra was beginning one of Strauss' most
+distracting waltzes; her fingers tapped the time. Suddenly she held
+out her hand to Cropsie.
+
+"I can't stand it another minute! I've got to dance once if I never
+dance again!"
+
+Every eye in the ballroom followed the slender figure, as it circled
+in and out among the throng. Miss Lady danced with the grace and
+abandonment of a child. She had given herself utterly to the joy of
+the moment. She was letting herself go for the first time since her
+marriage, following the glad impulse of her heart, and dancing as a
+Bacchante might have danced alone on a moonlight night in some forest
+glade.
+
+When at last the music stopped Cropsie drew her into the conservatory.
+
+"Here, come around this palm, quick! They'll all be after you for the
+next dance. Gerald Ivy is charging around now looking for you, and so
+is Mr. Horton. Sit there in the window and cool off!"
+
+She sank laughing and breathless on the window sill. All the
+exhilaration of the dance was in her eyes, her lips were parted, her
+cheeks flushed, and a strand of loosened hair fell across her
+shoulder.
+
+It was at this moment that wheels sounded on the driveway below,
+caused her to lean idly out to see who was coming. A wagon stopped at
+the side entrance, and a man alighted. Uncle Jimpson's voice was heard
+asking a question, then came the other man's voice, in quick, incisive
+answer.
+
+Miss Lady, sitting motionless, looking down, turned suddenly from the
+window. The color had left her face and her hand trembled visibly
+against the curtain.
+
+"What's the matter?" cried Cropsie; "are you ill? Did you dance too
+long?"
+
+"It's nothing, I'm all right. That is I will be--"
+
+"Can't I get you some water, or an ice, or call Mrs. Sequin?"
+
+"No, no, please! It's nothing. I'll slip off to the dressing-room
+until I feel better. I can go through here up the side stairs."
+
+"Wait, I'll go with you. You are as white as if you'd seen a ghost!"
+
+But before he could join her she had disappeared into mysterious
+regions where he dared not follow.
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XVII
+
+
+During the course of that Christmas night, there was one member of the
+Sequin household who failed to thrill with the holiday spirit, and
+whose depression steadily increased as the evening wore on. The great
+occasion of which Uncle Jimpson had dreamed all his life, had at last
+arisen, and instead of being allowed to rise with it, and prove his
+indisputable right to butlerhood, he had been detailed to drive back
+and forth to the station over that same humdrum Cane Run Road that he
+and Old John had helped to wear away for the past quarter of a
+century!
+
+To be sure, a neat depot wagon and a spirited young sorrel had
+replaced the ancient buggy and the apostolic nag, but these fell far
+short of Uncle Jimpson's dreams. A coach and four at that moment would
+not have compensated him for the fact that a complaisant, red-headed
+furnaceman, a "po' white trash" arrived but yesterday, was being
+allowed to pass the tray that by all rights of precedence belonged to
+him.
+
+Waiting impatiently at the station for the train that was to bring the
+elusive ices which he had been pursuing all evening, he at last had
+the satisfaction of seeing the small engine crawl out of the darkness,
+and come to a wheezing halt.
+
+So engrossed were the conductor and brakeman and Uncle Jimpson in
+safely depositing the freezers on the platform, that no one noticed a
+passenger who had alighted. In fact, it was not until Uncle Jimpson
+heard Mrs. Sequin's name that he paused from his labor and looked up.
+
+The stranger was a young, well-built man, wearing a long, shaggy
+overcoat, and a cap of a foreign cut that excited the immediate envy
+of the brake-man. The bag and the suit case which he carried were
+covered with foreign labels, and he had the air of a person who is
+suddenly dropped down in a strange place and doesn't quite know what
+to do with himself.
+
+"You say you want to git up to Mrs. Sequin's to-night?" Uncle Jimpson
+eyed the bags suspiciously. "'Scuse me, sir, but you ain't sellin'
+nothin', is you?"
+
+The laugh that greeted this was so spontaneous, that Uncle Jimpson
+hastened to apologize: "I nebber thought you wuz, only we wasn't
+lookin' fer no railroad company, an' I 'lowed you didn't look lak you
+wuz comin' to de party."
+
+"What party?" asked the man, his look of amusement giving place to one
+of dismay.
+
+"Our-alls party. We's havin' a ball an' a house-warmin'. You must be
+comin' fum a long ways off not to be hearin' 'bout hit!"
+
+"You mean the Sequins are having a party, tonight?"
+
+ "Yas, sir."
+
+"But aren't they expecting me? Didn't they get my telegram?"
+
+"I dunno, sir. Dey nebber said nothin' to me."
+
+The stranger stood with feet apart, watch in hand, and a grim
+expression on the only part of his face visible between his cap and
+his upturned collar.
+
+"What time is the next train back to town?"
+
+"Dey ain't none, 'ceptin' de special, what's hired to take de party
+back to town. Dat goes 'bout two o'clock."
+
+"I'll wait for it," said the stranger, flinging his bag against the
+waiting-room door and beginning to pace restlessly up and down the
+snow-covered platform.
+
+But this did not meet with Uncle Jimpson's ideas of hospitality.
+
+"Dey nebber knowed you wuz comin'," he argued. "I jes know dey didn't.
+But dat won't hinder 'em fum bein' powerful glad to see you. Better
+git in, Boss, an' lemme dribe you up dere."
+
+"No, there is evidently more room for me in town!"
+
+"Room! Why, Mister, we could take keer of all de Presidents of de
+Nunited States at one time! 'Sides, hit don't look right to leave you
+a stompin' round here in de cold fer three or four hours by yourself.
+You'd git powerful lonesome."
+
+"I'm used to being lonesome. Haven't been anything else for a year."
+
+"But dis heah is different," urged the old darkey, scratching his
+head; "dis heah is Christmas night. Tain't natchul fer folks not to
+git together an' laugh an' be happy an' fergit dere quarrels an' dere
+troubles an' jollify deyselves. You know you ain't gwine be happy
+stompin' round here in de dark by your loneself; you know dat ain't no
+way to spend Christmas, Boss!"
+
+The stranger continued to stare into the darkness for a moment, then
+he laughed, that same sudden, infectious, boyish laugh that had
+greeted Uncle Jimpson's suggestion that he was an agent.
+
+"You're right!" he exclaimed; "this is no time to nurse a grouch.
+Perhaps they didn't get the telegram. I'll risk it. Is there a side
+door you could slip me in?"
+
+"Yas, sir! We got four side doors, 'sides de back one. Ain't nuffin we
+ain't got. You git right in de wagon, an' I'll hist de bags in.
+'Tain't de way I'd like to kerry you up to de mansion, straddlin' a
+ice-cream freezer wid de snow in yer face, but I'll git you dere!"
+
+Uncle Jimpson, sure of an audience for at least twenty minutes, forgot
+his wrongs and laid himself out to make the most of his opportunity.
+
+It was very cold and the horse's hoofs beat hard on the frozen ground.
+Beyond the wavering circle of light from the swaying lantern all was
+dark and mysterious.
+
+"I certainly is glad dem freezers come," said Uncle Jimpson, tucking
+in the lap robe; "I shore would hate to go back widout 'em. De Cunnel
+used to say dat was what niggers was born fer, to git what you sent
+'em after."
+
+"Who is the Colonel?" asked the stranger with a quick glance of
+recognition at the old negro.
+
+"Cunnel Bob Carsey. My old marster. He's dead now, an' Mrs. Sequin
+she's done borrowed me fer a while."
+
+"When did he die?"
+
+"A year ago las' May."
+
+The man in the foreign cap pulled it further over his eyes and resumed
+his scrutiny of the road.
+
+"Al dis heah hill used to b'long to us," Uncle Jimpson continued;
+"long before de Sequinses ever wuz born. I spec' you've heard tell of
+Thornwood?"
+
+"Yes. Who lives there now?"
+
+"Nobody. When de Cunnel died, my young Miss didn't hab nobody to take
+keer ob her, nor no money to run de place, no nothin' 'ceptin' jus' me
+an' Carline. Dey wasn't nothin' left fer her to do but git married."
+
+A long pause followed during which the traveler watched the distorted
+shadow of the trotting horse as it shambled along the road.
+
+"'Course," the old darkey broke out presently, "Doctor Queerington is
+a powerful smart gemman, an' he teks keer ob her jes' lak she wuz one
+ob his own chillun. An' she's gittin' broke into de shafts, but hit's
+gwine hard wid her. 'Tain't natchul to hitch a young filly up to a old
+kerriage horse an' spec' her to keep step. She sorter holdin' back all
+de time, kinder 'fraid to let loose an' carry on same as she use to."
+
+They were going through the covered bridge now and the rattle of the
+wheels on the loose boards made conversation difficult.
+
+"Wuz you eber homesick, Boss?" asked Uncle Jimpson inconsequently.
+
+"Rather," said the stranger emphatically. "I was born homesick."
+
+"Well, dat's what ails my young Miss an' dat's whut's de matter wid me
+an' Carline an' Mike. Ain't none ob us used to libin' in other folks'
+houses an' mixin' up wid other folkses families. 'Course hit's mighty
+fine to be rich an' put on airs, but hit's lonesome. 'Fore hit got so
+cold, me an' Carline'd go down home most ebery night an' set round de
+quarters, listenin' to de frogs an' de crickets, an' I'd say,'
+Carline, don't you mind de time dat Miss Lady fell head fust into de
+barrel ob sorghum? An' de time she made de chickens drunk often egg-
+nog?' Nebber wus nobody in de world lak dat chile, up to ever
+mischievousness dat ever wuz concocted, but jus' so sweet an' coaxin'
+dat de Cunnel nebber knowed how to punish her."
+
+The stranger took out a meerschaum pipe, started to light a match,
+evidently forgot his intention, and looked absently ahead into the
+darkness.
+
+"Dis is Thornwood!" said Uncle Jimpson eagerly, pointing with his whip
+up a long avenue of trees; "you can't see de house 'cause dey ain't no
+lights in de winders. De Cunnel's paw set dem trees out de same year
+he bought Carline. Lord, I certainly wuz gone on dat yaller gal! But I
+didn't know nothin' 'bout courtin'. Carline she wuz better qualified
+though, an' she made me ast Old Miss ef I couldn't hab her fer my
+wife. We didn't need no Bible nor preacher, nor sech foolishness in
+dem days. But when Old Miss wuz willin' we jus' dress up an' walk ober
+de place an' tell all de niggers we wuz married. Umph, umph! But I wuz
+proud dat day! I had on a bran' new pair ob pants dat cost two-hundred
+an' sixty-fo' dollars in Confederate money! When Mr. Abe Lincum set us
+niggers free, dey made us git married all ober agin wid a preacher an'
+a Bible, but I never seed no diffunce."
+
+"Does Mrs.--Mrs. Queerington ever come back to Thornwood?" asked the
+stranger, stumbling over the name as if it were very hard for him to
+say.
+
+"Yas, sir, she comes jes' lak me an' Carline, an' wanders roun' de
+house an' de garden, an' sets in de ole barrel hammock, studyin' to
+herself."
+
+"And Mike,--what became of him?"
+
+Uncle Jimpson looked at him in surprise, "How'd you know about Mike,
+Mister?"
+
+"Didn't you speak of him a while ago; wasn't he the dog?"
+
+"Yas, sir. He's our dog. He's stayin' wif Miss Ferney Foster what
+libes down beyond de blacksmith's on de other side de pike. He don't
+lak it no better'n we do; he's homesick, too."
+
+They had reached a pretentious white gateway, and Uncle Jimpson,
+recalled to a sense of his duties, drew himself up from his slouching
+posture, crooked his elbow and rounded the curve as if he had been
+driving a tally-ho. Through the bare trees above them blazed the
+magnificent proportions of Angora Heights, with its pretentious
+assembly of stables, garage and servants' quarters in the rear.
+
+"Ye gods!" exclaimed the stranger under his breath; "is this all of
+it?"
+
+"Naw, _sir_!" Uncle Jimpson denied emphatically; "if hit wuz daytime
+you could see de Ramparts an' de Estanade. Over dere is de Lygoon.
+'Tain't nothin' shore 'nuff but our ole pond where we uster ketch
+bullfrogs, but Mrs. Sequin she tole me to call hit de Lygoon. You see
+dem carvins ober de door? Dat figger goin' up dat Egyptions stairway
+is John Dark. Didn't you nebber heah 'bout John Dark? He wuz a woman
+what fit a battle onct."
+
+"Cut around to the side there, out of the way of the motors," directed
+the stranger, who seemed much more concerned in making a quiet
+entrance into the mansion than in studying its architectural features.
+"Here's something to put in the toe of your Christmas stocking, and
+another for Caroline. Hurry up!"
+
+He vaulted lightly over the wheel and turned to take his bag. As he
+did so the light from the conservatory window above fell full upon his
+upturned face.
+
+"Fore de Lawd!" cried Uncle Jimpson, a broad grin splitting his face
+almost in two. "I might 'a' knowed dat de only gemman in de world what
+tipped lak dat wuz Mr. Don Morley!"
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XVIII
+
+
+It is really a very difficult thing to snub Christmas. You may
+relegate it to the class of nuisances, and turn your back on Santa
+Claus, and vote the whole institution a gigantic bore, but before the
+day is over it usually gets the better of you, as it did of Donald
+Morley, arriving unannounced and unwelcomed at the side door of the
+Sequin mansion.
+
+It had gotten the better of him the year before when he had risen in
+the gray dawn of an Indian day and stoically made his way to the banks
+of the Ganges. It had proclaimed itself above the Vedic hymns of the
+twice-born Brahmins, standing knee-deep in the sacred river; it had
+dogged his footsteps among the ash-smeared fakirs, and jewel-hung
+cows; it had even haunted the burning-ghat where he had stood and
+watched human bodies burning on their pyres.
+
+Eighteen months of wandering had made him sick of the casual; of the
+steamer acquaintances formed at one port and dropped at the next; of
+the unfamiliar sights and incomprehensible languages and the horde of
+alien yellow faces. He was weary unto death of the freedom of the high
+seas, and longed fervently for a strong anchor, and a quiet harbor.
+
+When Cropsie Decker's explosive epistle had arrived telling him of his
+indictment, of Margery's broken engagement, of Lee Dillingham's
+treachery, his first thought was not of his wrongs, but of the fact
+that they would necessitate his going home.
+
+He did not stop to realize that going home meant but one thing to him.
+He even tried to persuade himself that seeing Miss Lady in the role of
+a happy, complaisant wife would cure him of his insatiable longing for
+her. From the time he heard of her marriage he had striven desperately
+to put her out of his mind, using every means but one to accomplish
+his purpose. Through all his resentment and bitterness of heart, he
+had never returned to his old life. Those promises made to her in the
+full ardor of his boyish passion, he had kept with the hopeless
+loyalty that one keeps the garments of the dead.
+
+Now that he had been indicted for a crime of which he was wholly
+innocent, his first desire was to know if she still believed in him.
+To be sure, there were strong reasons why she should not: his own
+confession of his shortcomings; the unfortunate complication in the
+Dillingham affair; his subsequent disappearance. It was but natural
+that she should have been brought to see the folly of pinning her
+faith to such an unstable proposition as himself. His first agonized
+protest against her marriage had given place to a stoical acceptance
+of the fact. He was paying the price many a man has paid for the
+follies of his youth, and he was ready to pay without a protest, if
+only she could be made to understand the truth.
+
+All that was best in him demanded justice from her, the justice he had
+pleaded for in that long letter sent from San Francisco. Going home
+for him meant not only a trial by jury and a verdict of guilty or
+innocent. It meant far more. He would know from her own lips whether
+she had ever received his letter, and whether or not she believed in
+him. On her decision rested his faith in human nature and in God.
+
+The sudden decision to return to America had been reached one night in
+Port Said, where he had just joined an exploring expedition bound for
+the Valley of the Kings. He cancelled his engagement, took passage on
+a little Russian steamer that was bound for Alexandria, and too
+impatient to wait for a liner from that port shipped on a freight boat
+for Naples. The passage across the Atlantic had been a tempestuous
+one, and he had landed in New York two days overdue, with no time to
+notify the family of his arrival.
+
+And now after eighteen months of exile in foreign lands he was
+actually home again! That is if this resplendent, unfamiliar abode,
+full of music and lights and strange servants, could be called home.
+However, it was the nearest approach to one he could claim, and the
+fact that the fatted calf had not been killed for him, and that the
+law waited for him around the corner, did not prevent his pulse
+quickening and his lips smiling as he took the side steps two at a
+time, and entered the rear hall.
+
+An officious, red-headed man stood in the pantry door with a napkin
+over his arm, issuing peremptory orders and regulating the outcoming
+and ingoing waiters. "Are you the butler?" asked Donald.
+
+"Not yet," said the man, dropping one eyelid and assuming a
+confidential air; "I can see she's after me, though. She got on to my
+style the minute she seen me handle a tray of glasses. 'Flathers,' she
+sez, 'you keep things movin' back there in the pantry, and do keep a
+eye on John.' John's the butler. He's a drinkin' man, God be praised,
+and I'm layin' fer his job. Are you a chauffeur?"
+
+"No," said Donald good humoredly. "I'm a prodigal brother. Where have
+I seen you before?"
+
+"Can't say. If a person sees me once they never fergit me. It's me
+golden glow. Come, boys! Hurry up! Hurry up with them cakes there. Git
+them extry freezers unpacked. Git a move on yer."
+
+"Take this card in to Mrs. Sequin," said Donald, "and ask her if she
+can spare a moment to see a caller in the rear entry."
+
+Phineas glanced suspiciously from the card to the stranger, then he
+decided that he would not question the matter.
+
+A moment later, Mrs. Sequin with her glittering draperies gathered
+about her, and an expression of great perturbation on her features,
+made her high-heeled way through the pantry.
+
+"Donald! My dear boy!" she exclaimed effusively, presenting her cheek
+with the caution of one who hopes the kiss will be light. "What on
+earth are you doing here? We had no idea you were in America. How thin
+you are! I've been in a perfect agony about you. Not those champagne
+glasses, John; the larger ones. That tiresome butler! He has been
+tipsy all day. Now, what about yourself, Donald? It is dreadfully
+unwise for you to be here; you know of course of--of the indictment?"
+
+"That's why I'm here. But how is everybody? How are Brother Basil and
+little old Margery? Where's my saddle mare?"
+
+"I'll tell you everything to-morrow, Don. You must want to go to your
+room now. Flathers take this gentleman's bags up to the East guest-
+room,--no, that's occupied. You won't mind going up another flight,
+just for to-night, dear?"
+
+"Oh, tuck me in anywhere, just so there's a bath handy."
+
+"All the bedrooms have baths," said Mrs. Sequin absently, with her eye
+on the befuddled butler who was trying to uncork a bottle with a
+screwdriver, "Let Flathers--I mean Benson--do that, John, and you take
+these bags. So sorry I can't go up with you myself, Don, but the
+cotillion is just beginning, and I have to see to the favors."
+
+"That's right, don't bother about me, I'll get into some decent togs
+and be down again in a little while."
+
+Mrs. Sequin paused with her hand on the banister, then she leaned
+forward solicitously:
+
+"I wouldn't take the trouble to dress and come down again, Don. It's
+late and you must be dead tired. You go to bed. I'll understand."
+
+Donald, standing a few steps above her, shot a questioning glance at
+her, then he, too, understood.
+
+"Oh, all right," he said, biting his lip; "I believe I won't come
+down. You might send Marge up, after the people leave, just to say
+'Hello.'"
+
+"Of course, we'll both be up. Nothing could hold her if she knew you
+were here. But it is better that nobody should know. I was careful not
+to mention your name before the servants. You can have a nice little
+visit with us, and get away again without any one being the wiser. It
+is so lovely you got here in time for Christmas! _Good_ night."
+She came up two steps and presented her other cheek for a kiss.
+
+[Illustration: Mrs. Sequin paused with her hand on the bannister.]
+
+The delinquent John, meanwhile, was performing acrobatic feats with
+the bags, getting them so mixed up with his own legs and the stair
+steps that Donald snatched them from him, and, eliciting a vague
+direction concerning the room he was to occupy, went up to find it
+alone.
+
+He felt something of the hot rebellion and resentment that he had
+experienced on another Christmas night in the long ago, when the
+cross-eyed French nurse had put him to bed at five o'clock and left
+him alone in the big hotel in Paris. Then he had cried himself to
+sleep because there wasn't any Santa Claus and because he didn't have
+a sweetheart. But the consolations of six are denied to twenty-five.
+
+On the second floor he followed directions and turned to the right.
+The dressing-rooms were deserted, the maids having taken their seats
+on the steps to peep at the dancers below. He, too, paused, and looked
+down at the gaily whirling throng. There was his old familiar world,
+the fellows he had been through college with, the girls he had flirted
+with, the very music he had danced to, times without numbers. And he
+was as much out of it all as if he had died of the fever in that gray
+old hospital in Singapore? Ah, if he only had!
+
+He turned abruptly and started up the second flight of stairs, and as
+he did so something rose precipitately from the steps, and fluttered
+ahead of him.
+
+He looked up and as he did so chaos broke loose within him. There at
+the top, in the subdued light from the upper hall, startled,
+uncertain, off her guard stood Miss Lady, not the pretty, harum-scarum
+girl of his dreams, but a beautiful, wistful woman with trembling lips
+and startled eyes, who held out her hands to him in involuntary
+welcome.
+
+He lost his head completely. All the blood in his body rushed to his
+throat. Something sang through every fiber of him.
+
+"Miss Lady!" he cried, catching the hands she extended in both of his,
+then as she drew back from his too ardent look, he remembered. "I beg
+your pardon of course it's Mrs. Queerington, now."
+
+"Not to you, Don. When did you come? Are you well again? Didn't any
+one know you were coming? Have the others seen you?"
+
+She poured forth her questions eagerly, as if she feared another
+pause. She was making a desperate effort to appear easy, but her
+eagerness betrayed her. She repeated that she had no idea he was in
+America, and took refuge in a general assurance that everybody would
+be so glad to have him home again.
+
+Donald, lean and tanned, stood silent, watching her searchingly. His
+deep-set eyes were clearer and steadier than of old, but they were no
+longer the eyes of a boy. He was like a mariner whose ship has been
+wrecked. He had nothing worse to dread and nothing to hope for. He
+simply desired to see the rock on which his life craft had smashed.
+
+Miss Lady continued to ask questions, but she evidently did not always
+heed the answers as she asked some of them twice over. It was not
+until Donald's trouble was touched upon that her mood steadied and she
+lost her self-consciousness.
+
+"Of course you must stand the trial," she said, and her voice rang
+with the old assurance; "you must fight the whole matter out once for
+all, and prove your innocence."
+
+"Oh, the Court will prove that all right, but what does it matter? If
+people were willing to damn me without hearing, to believe that I had
+shot a man's eye out, then run away to escape the punishment--Bah!
+it's sickening."
+
+"But everybody doesn't believe it. The Doctor doesn't, nor Margery,
+nor Cropsie Decker, nor I. Hundreds of your friends are ready to stand
+by you. Don't listen to what anybody else says, but stay and fight it
+out."
+
+He looked up suddenly. "Did you ever get that letter I wrote you
+before I sailed from 'Frisco?"
+
+He hadn't meant to blurt it out like that, the question that had
+tortured him so long, but her sympathy and friendliness had unnerved
+him.
+
+Leaning forward with all his soul in his eyes, he watched the color
+mount steadily from her throat to her cheeks, then to her brow. He
+heard her draw a sharp, quivering breath as one who walks on a
+precipice, then she faced him steadily.
+
+"Yes, Donald," she said, meeting his gaze unflinchingly, "I got it."
+
+He dropped his head on his hand where it rested on the banister, and
+they stood for a moment in silence save for the strains of music that
+came up from below. Then he straightened his shoulders.
+
+"That's all. I had to make sure, you know. And you didn't believe in
+me?"
+
+Across her face quivered the desire for speech, and the necessity for
+silence.
+
+"I do believe in you, Don," she said earnestly. "I believe in you with
+all my heart and soul. And we are going to be your friends; you'll let
+us, the Doctor and me?"
+
+He took the hand she offered, but he said nothing, and after she was
+gone he went into his room, and flinging himself across the bed,
+buried his face in the pillows.
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XIX
+
+
+The new year began inauspiciously at the Queerington's. In the first
+place Bertie woke up with the chickenpox and was banished to the
+nursery. Then the Doctor followed his annual custom of going over his
+business affairs, with the usual result that he found his accounts
+greatly overdrawn. This fact was solemnly communicated to each member
+of the family in turn together with admonitions in regard to the
+future. By lunch time Hattie had been sent to her room for
+impertinently suggesting that her father spent more on his books than
+she did on her clothes, and Connie was sulking over a reduced
+allowance.
+
+"Of course," the Doctor explained to Miss Lady as he sank exhausted
+into his invalid chair which had been pressed into service again
+during the past few weeks, "I have no doubt but that Basil Sequin can
+arrange things for me. He always has in the past, but he seems very
+pressed of late, very harassed. I hardly like to approach him so soon
+again for a loan."
+
+"Couldn't we rent a smaller house, and have less company?" suggested
+Miss Lady.
+
+The Doctor shook his head. "It would be very difficult for me to
+adjust myself to new surroundings. The conditions here for my work are
+fairly satisfactory. The Ivy's piano, to be sure, is a constant
+annoyance, but by using cotton in my ears I obviate that nuisance. It
+is particularly unfortunate that this complication about money should
+come just at the most critical point of my work. Unless Basil Sequin
+can make some arrangement, I shall be seriously embarrassed."
+
+"I'll tell you what we can do," cried Miss Lady brightly, just as if
+she had not been trying to get herself up to the point of making the
+offer for a week. "We can sell off another bit of Thornwood. Since the
+Sequins built out there ever so many people have asked about ground."
+
+"No," said the Doctor, the lines of care deepening in his fine, grave
+face. "There is little left now but the house and farm. Your sentiment
+regarding the place is such that I cannot permit the sacrifice. The
+matter will doubtless adjust itself. I shall take some private pupils
+at the university and perhaps arrange an extra course of lectures. The
+exigencies of the past two years have been exceptional."
+
+"But you are already working yourself to death," protested Miss Lady.
+"Doctor Wyeth said last week that you could not stand the strain. The
+rest of us ought to do something; we must do something!"
+
+"You are doing something, my dear. You are relieving me of innumerable
+burdens in regard to the house and the children. You are proving of
+great assistance to me in my work, not only by your reading aloud, but
+by the unfailing sympathy and understanding you give me. Whatever
+success shall crown my life work will be in a measure due to you."
+
+She was sitting on a hassock at his feet, and she looked up at him
+with strange, dumb eyes. His frail body and towering ambition, his
+loveless life that knew not what it missed, roused in her a pity
+almost maternal. A fierce resentment rose within her against herself,
+for not loving him as she knew a husband should be loved. If he had
+only won her with his heart instead of his head!
+
+The door bell rang and Miss Lady glanced up apprehensively.
+
+"It was the pickle woman," announced Myrtella, coming in a moment
+later from the hall. "I sent her about her business."
+
+"Not Miss Ferney!" cried Miss Lady, springing up and rushing out to
+call her.
+
+Miss Ferney Foster with much difficulty was persuaded to return and
+sit on the edge of a hall chair. On New Year's in the past she had
+always made a formal call at Thornwood and presented the Colonel with
+a sample of her best wares. The Colonel in turn had invariably sent
+down cellar for one of the cobwebbiest bottles on the swinging shelf
+and bestowed it upon her with great gallantry. The indignity of having
+been refused admittance at the house of the Colonel's daughter was
+almost more than she could bear.
+
+"Now, tell me about everybody out home," demanded Miss Lady eagerly.
+"Begin at the bottom of the hill and go right straight up."
+
+"I don't know much news," Miss Ferney said, plucking at the fingers of
+her cotton gloves. "I been sewing up to the Sequins' all week."
+
+"Mercy! How grand we are getting!"
+
+"Just hemming table clothes and napkins. I can't say I think much of
+their new place. It's kind of skimpy."
+
+"Why, Miss Ferney! It is the biggest house I was even in!"
+
+"I ain't talking 'bout the size. I'm talking 'bout the fixings. There
+ain't a single carpet that fits the floor by two feet, and the
+wallpaper's patched in every room but one. As for the dining-room!
+Well, I wouldn't have believed it if I hadn't seen it with my own
+eyes! They haven't got a picture, or a tidy, or a curtain, or a
+lamberkin, of any kind. 'Spose I oughtn't to tell it on 'em, but the
+day I was there they didn't even have a tablecloth!"
+
+Miss Lady laughed in spite of herself, and Bertie heard her and got
+out of bed to call over the banisters that if they were telling jokes
+to please come up there.
+
+"You know that young man that used to be out to the Wickers'?" asked
+Miss Ferney on the way up. "Well, he's Mrs. Sequin's brother. He's
+giving 'em considerable trouble."
+
+"How do you mean?"
+
+"They want him to go 'way somewheres, and he won't do it. The servant
+girl told me that him and his sister had been having it up and down,
+and that Miss Margery took his side."
+
+"Is he going to stay?" Miss Lady paused and her fingers gripped the
+banister.
+
+"I dunno. I guess if he gits mad enough he'll run off to China like he
+did before. Ain't that somebody calling you?"
+
+It was Connie who had run up to say that a young man was at the front
+door who looked like a tombstone with a blond pompadour.
+
+"Noah Wicker!" exclaimed Miss Lady. "I forgot that I told him I would
+try to get him into Mr. Gooch's law office the first of the year.
+Wasn't it like him to arrive the first day? You go down, Connie,
+that's a darling, and entertain him 'til I come. I'll be there
+directly."
+
+But "directly" proved an elastic term, for after Miss Ferney had left,
+and four different persons had been assured over the telephone that
+all invitations were being declined on account of the Doctor's
+indisposition, Miss Lady found Hattie still sulking in her room, and
+spent a half hour in restoring peace to that troubled bosom.
+
+Meanwhile Myrtella came up to announce with elation that a waterpipe
+had burst in the cellar. Few things roused such joy in Myrtella as the
+bursting of a waterpipe. It was an act of insubordination on the part
+of the pipe, with which she deeply sympathized.
+
+"And it's Mr. Gooch's night for supper, and if that man in the parlor
+stays, too, the ice cream won't go 'round," she declared, with evident
+satisfaction in the cumulative tragedy.
+
+By the time the knots were untied, Miss Lady had forgotten all about
+Noah Wicker, and it was only when Connie came in declaring indignantly
+that she wouldn't talk to the stupid fellow another minute, that she
+remembered.
+
+"You poor dear child!" she cried, giving her a repentant squeeze. "I
+am sorry. Hattie, would you mind going down and entertaining him a
+second, 'til I change my dress?"
+
+"I would," said Hattie firmly.
+
+Of course Noah stayed to dinner, and Miss Lady regarded it as an act
+of Providence that he and Mr. Gooch should have thus immediately been
+thrown together.
+
+But when Mr. Gooch arrived he was concerned with much more important
+affairs. He brought the astounding news that Donald Morley had
+returned home and, against the advice of his family and his lawyers,
+decided to stand his trial for the shooting of Dick Sheeley!
+
+"It is perfectly preposterous!" Mr. Gooch exploded, "to voluntarily
+put himself in the clutches of the law in a complicated case like
+this! He could have lived elsewhere for a few years. Even if he is
+innocent, the evidence is all against him. I have argued with him for
+two days. His sister tells me that she has worked on him for a week.
+He will listen to nobody."
+
+"Quite right," said the Doctor emphatically. "The establishment of his
+good name should be his primary consideration. 'The purest treasure
+mortal times afford is spotless reputation.' I am more gratified than
+I can say that Donald is taking this course. He is justifying my
+persistent belief in his integrity. Once cleared by a jury the ghost
+of that unfortunate affair will, I trust, be laid forever."
+
+"It is not so certain that he will be cleared," Mr. Gooch said, taking
+his accustomed seat at the table, with a solicitous eye on the door
+where Myrtella would appear with the soup. "I shall do my best for
+him, but I have my doubts."
+
+"You say he has been here a week?" the Doctor asked. "Strange he has
+not been in to see us. He was always fond of the children, and
+professed a certain regard, I believe, for me. I want him to meet Mrs.
+Queerington."
+
+There was a pause, during which Noah Wicker turned a surprised glance
+upon the hostess.
+
+"I know Mr. Morley," she said steadily, while the color mounted to her
+cheeks. "I knew him when he was with Noah at the farm."
+
+"Indeed," said the Doctor. "I must have forgotten your mentioning it.
+I am afraid, Mr. Wicker, we've been neglecting you to-night in our
+concern over Donald's problems. But it is a subject in which you are
+doubtless equally interested?"
+
+Noah started to reply, but realizing that the company was looking at
+him, forgot what he was going to say and bowed instead.
+
+At this juncture the thing of all others that Miss Lady dreaded,
+occurred. Donald Morley was announced by Myrtella in tones whose
+accents implied that nothing could now prevent the ice cream from
+giving out.
+
+"Well, well!" cried the Doctor, rising and greeting him with
+outstretched hand, "a hearty welcome home. You know everybody here, I
+believe? Even Mrs. Queerington tells me she has met you. And this is
+Hattie. I am quite sure you were not prepared to see her so tall."
+
+Donald, retaining Hattie's hand, made the round of greetings.
+
+"Where are Connie and Bert?"
+
+"Connie is dressing for a party, and poor old Bert is struggling with
+the chickenpox," Miss Lady managed to say as she busied herself with
+the coffee cups.
+
+"And now tell us about yourself," said the Doctor, drawing a chair for
+Donald beside his own. "You will pardon my cushions, but I am still
+something of an invalid, and the little lady at the end of the table
+insists upon spoiling me. You knew, of course, of my accident, some
+two years ago?"
+
+"Not until I got home," Donald said without looking up. "I hope you've
+gotten well again?"
+
+"Oh, no, I shall never be well. The physicians assured me of that from
+the first, but they also said that with care and proper conservation
+of my energies I would probably live to a ripe old age. I do not
+suppose you have ever had to resist the temptation to overwork,
+Donald?"
+
+Donald smiled and puckered his brow.
+
+"He has plenty of work cut out for him now!" growled Mr. Gooch, whose
+mind having been temporarily diverted by the salad now rushed back to
+the trial.
+
+"Work for an admirable cause," said the Doctor. "Mr. Gooch has just
+been telling us of your decision, Donald, and I cannot express my
+gratification at your course of action."
+
+"Thank you, Doctor! That's the first encouragement I've had. My family
+seem to think I am a lunatic, and even my lawyer, here, is taking the
+case under protest."
+
+"The value of a good name," began the Doctor, then remembering that he
+had delivered himself at length on that subject earlier in the
+evening, he broke off by inquiring if Donald had been doing any
+writing during his absence.
+
+"Oh! yes, I am always scribbling. It doesn't amount to anything
+though."
+
+"Yes, it does, too!" declared Hattie, to whom Cousin Don had always
+been a hero. "Mr. Decker told Gerald Ivy that you did all the best
+things in the articles he sent home for the syndicate."
+
+"I suspected it!" said the Doctor. "I thought I recognized your
+humorous view-point in that first article on China. I remarked to my
+wife at the time that you had visualized the scene, for the reader,
+exactly as you had seen it."
+
+"But I didn't!" said Donald. "I wrote that story a month before we
+reached China. Decker hit on the idea of getting all the articles
+written while we were crossing the Pacific, so we wouldn't have to
+bother about them after we landed. We used to get up on the boat-deck
+and turn them off like hot cakes. That's all foolishness about my
+doing the best parts. Why, Decker is a wonder! He 's reducing the
+thing to a science; he doesn't even need a pen or a pencil; just
+plenty of guide books, a paper of pins, and a pair of scissors.
+Lapboard literature, he calls it. He spent most of his time trimming
+my effusions down to measurements."
+
+"That is because you indulged your imagination. It is a drug in the
+journalistic market, but it is invaluable elsewhere. Why not try
+something for the magazines? Choose a congenial theme and give your
+fancy full rein. It will be interesting to see what comes of it."
+
+Connie's entrance here interrupted further conversation. She had
+neglected no detail of her toilet, and the result was a pink and white
+confection ready for conquest.
+
+"We thought you were never coming to see us, Cousin Don," she said,
+half pouting, and giving a side glance at Noah Wicker. "You 've been
+home a whole week!"
+
+"Heavens, Connie! I didn't expect to find you so grown up. How long
+have you been out?"
+
+"I 've never been in," she said, releasing her hand and smiling
+consciously. "Aren't you coming to the Bartrums' party to-night?"
+
+"No, I'm not in a mood for parties these days."
+
+"But I 've never had a chance to dance with you since you taught me to
+waltz."
+
+"Horrible deprivation! Can you still do the cake walk I taught you?"
+
+"Yes, and so can Miss Lady! Isn't it funny? She says it 's the one the
+darkeys dance at the picnics up at Thornwood! Come on, Miss Lady; let
+'s show them!"
+
+"Constance, Constance!" remonstrated the Doctor gently, as the girl
+seized Miss Lady's hands and tried to draw her to her feet. "You see,
+Donald, the children forget that Mrs. Queerington is anything but a
+play-fellow, and sometimes--" he rose and laid a hand on her shoulder,
+"sometimes she forgets, too."
+
+Donald pushed back his chair abruptly.
+
+"I think I'll come to the party, Connie, after all. I'll run up to
+Decker's room at the hotel and change my togs. You will save me a
+waltz or two?"
+
+"All of them, if you like! It's going to be the jolliest dance of the
+season, everybody says so. Change your mind, Miss Lady, and come! I
+don't see how you can hesitate when you remember the time you had at
+the Sequins'! Gerald is coming for me; we can all go down together."
+
+Miss Lady needed only the spark of Connie's enthusiasm to start all
+the forbidden fires in her. Her eyes flew to the Doctor's face.
+
+He smiled as he caught her eager look. "Go with them, my dear, if you
+like. It is quite a natural instinct, I believe, to celebrate the
+first night of the New Year."
+
+"But you, will you take me? Just this once, Doctor?"
+
+"No, no. My party days are over. Donald here will take my place, will
+you not, Donald?"
+
+But Miss Lady gave him no chance to answer. That mad insistent clamor
+within her for joy, for life, for love, could not be trusted for a
+moment. She was afraid of herself!
+
+"I'll stay home," she said, with a brave attempt at gaiety, conscious
+of Donald's critical eyes upon her. "We will have a pinochle
+tournament, and Noah and I will beat the home team on its own ground.
+Won't we, Noah?"
+
+But Noah did not hear her; he was absorbed in watching Connie who
+stood on tiptoe, pinning a flower in Don Morley's buttonhole.
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XX
+
+
+For the next month little else was talked about but Donald Morley's
+trial. The truth of the matter sustained a compound fracture every
+time the subject was discussed. In some quarters it was confidently
+asserted that the fugitive from justice had been captured the moment
+he landed in America, and was allowed his liberty only under a heavy
+bond. Others contended that a guilty conscience had driven him to
+confession.
+
+Meanwhile his friends were either exasperated at his folly in reviving
+the old scandal, or quixotically enthusiastic over his demand for
+justice. Mrs. Sequin bitterly opposed his action until she found that
+the Bartrums, Dr. Queerington, and other influential friends upheld
+him, then she decided to suspend her judgment until the trial was
+over. Of course if he was going to be a hero, she wanted to be his
+loving sister, but if he was going to be convicted, she would have
+nothing more to do with him. He had gone directly against her advice
+in coming home, and she observed with ominous certainty that "he would
+see."
+
+Donald threw himself into the work before him with grim determination.
+He spent hours daily in Mr. Gooch's stuffy office going over
+transcript of testimony in the Dillingham trial; he made a number of
+visits to Billy-goat Hill, recalling every detail of the shooting. On
+the first visit he had sought out Sheeley, confident of being able to
+jog his memory, concerning his part in the affray, but to his dismay
+he found that Sheeley had already been summoned to the office of the
+prosecuting attorney. In every direction he turned he encountered the
+octopus of the law.
+
+Mr. Gooch gave him little encouragement. He wheezed, and whined, and
+contested every suggestion. His client appeared to him a foolhardy boy
+who had gotten well out of an ugly scrape, and did not have sense
+enough to stay out. So strongly did he feel this that he felt called
+upon to express it at great length, on every possible occasion.
+
+Donald would sit before him with arms folded, and jaws set, waiting
+impatiently for these harangues to cease. He had employed him because
+he was the family lawyer, and because he was a friend of Doctor
+Queerington's. At the end of the first week he realized that he had
+made a mistake, and confided the fact to Noah Wicker.
+
+Noah, having successfully worked through the law course at the
+university, was now, by the persistent efforts of Miss Lady, occupying
+a dark corner of Mr. Gooch's outer office. Here, with feet hooked
+under a rung of a stool, and fingers grasping his pompadour, he
+doggedly wrestled with the cases he heard in court, laboriously
+puzzling out obscure points by the aid of the Statute and the Code.
+
+Donald soon fell into the habit of discussing his approaching trial
+with him, at such times as Mr. Gooch was absent. He found Noah's calm,
+impersonal point of view a relief after the skeptical, disapproving
+attitude of the older attorney.
+
+During these days Donald spent as little time as possible at Angora
+Heights. The family skeletons that had always lurked in the Sequin
+closets, seemed to revel in their commodious new quarters. It is a
+melancholy fact that the more closets one acquires, the more skeletons
+there are to occupy them!
+
+Mrs. Sequin's existence, if restless in town, was trebly so in the
+country. Between catching trains and receiving and speeding guests,
+engaging and dismissing servants, and agonizing over the non-
+essentials, she dwelt in the vortex of a whirlwind that disturbed
+everything in its wake.
+
+Between her and Margery the gulf was widening. Having declared her
+independence, the girl went further, and entered a training class in
+the kindergarten, an act which caused a rupture that threatened to be
+serious, until the head of the family for once asserted his authority,
+and unexpectedly sided with his daughter.
+
+Basil Sequin during these days had little time to bestow upon family
+matters. He rose at six o'clock, drank three cups of black coffee,
+devoured the newspapers, and was on the way to the office before his
+gardener was out of bed. Before and after banking hours he had
+committee meetings, and special appointments, snatching a few minutes
+for luncheon at the nearest restaurant.
+
+Donald had had but one chance to talk with him since his return, and
+that was one evening when he was summoned to his den. He found him
+pacing restlessly up and down the room, his hands thrust deep in his
+pockets.
+
+"You've decided to stand the trial, I hear?" Mr. Sequin asked
+abruptly.
+
+"Yes, I had to get the matter cleared up. It is all so idiotic, my
+being indicted! I don't anticipate any trouble."
+
+"You can't tell," said Mr. Sequin, "but I didn't send for you to
+discuss the trial. It's business I want to talk about. Do you know how
+much stock you own in the People's Bank?"
+
+"No, I can't say that I do exactly."
+
+"Well, it's time you were finding out. How would you like to take
+charge of your own affairs from now on?"
+
+Donald looked at him in undisguised surprise. Heretofore the only time
+that money matters had been discussed between them was when he had
+been guilty of some extra extravagance. This sudden change of tactics
+on the part of his brother-in-law was disconcerting.
+
+"Why, I shouldn't like it at all, unless it would relieve you," he
+said.
+
+"It isn't that. One bother more or less doesn't matter. The point is,
+I want you to act for yourself. The result of this trial is by no
+means certain; you may need considerable ready money before you get
+through with it. Why don't you sell your bank stock, and make some
+better paying investments on your own hook?"
+
+"Why, I thought the bank stock--" began Donald, but Mr. Sequin wheeled
+upon him impatiently.
+
+"Do you want my advice or not?"
+
+"Of course I want it."
+
+"Very well. Listen to me. Almost every dollar you have is tied up in
+the People's Bank. Go down to-morrow morning to a broker, Gilson's the
+best man, tell him that you must have a big sum of money at once. In
+order to get it you are willing to sacrifice every share of your
+People's stock. Tell him not to put it on the market, but to sell it
+in small blocks to different people, and not to stick at the price.
+Make him understand that it has to do with your trial, and caution him
+particularly not to let me know of the transaction."
+
+"But I don't understand," said Donald, watching with troubled eyes the
+stooped figure that continued to pace up and down the room like an
+animal in a cage.
+
+"I didn't offer to explain. I offered to advise," Mr. Sequin snarled.
+"There are complications that couldn't be made clear to you in a
+month! I'll ask you not to refer to this matter again to me or to any
+one else. I have a lot of papers to look over now, so I'll say good
+night."
+
+Donald rose from where he had been sitting at the table.
+
+"Of course you know what is best," he said irresolutely. "And I know
+I've got no business shifting my responsibilities on you. By the way,
+can't I help you with some of this stuff? You look about done for to-
+night."
+
+"Done for?" Mr. Sequin smiled ironically, and ran his fingers through
+his scant gray hair. "Why, Don, I'd change places with any old corpse
+to-night, just for a chance to lie down in a quiet corner and stop
+thinking! No, there's nothing you can do. There's nothing anybody can
+do. Good night; close the door as you go out, and leave word
+downstairs if I am called over the 'phone to say I am not here."
+
+All things considered it is small wonder that Donald passed as little
+time as possible at Angora Heights. The time he was not occupied with
+his trial hung heavy on his hands. Distrustful of his friends,
+sensitive to criticism, and dreading the humiliating ordeal to come,
+he spent one of the most wretched months of his life. He tried to
+write, but fancy fled before the glare of the actual. The only place
+where he found temporary peace was under the roof of the grim-looking
+house in College Street.
+
+From the first Doctor Queerington had championed his cause, and urged
+upon him his hospitality. To be sure the Doctor's hospitality usually
+began and ended with his welcome, after which he would take himself
+off to the study, and leave his guest to the care of the family.
+
+At such times Miss Lady invariably went with him. In fact, Donald had
+never seen her alone since the night of his arrival, and the very fact
+that she seldom remained down-stairs in the evenings, made his
+conscience lighter about lingering in her vicinity.
+
+Mrs. Ivy was the first to comment on his frequent visits. She confided
+to Mrs. Sequin that she was afraid he was getting interested in Connie
+Queerington, and that somebody ought to tell him that Connie had been
+in love with dear Gerald for years and years. An impartial observer
+might have expressed a less confident opinion concerning the object of
+Miss Connie's affections.
+
+Noah Wicker, for instance, while not exactly an impartial observer,
+had arrived at quite a different conclusion.
+
+"You watch the way she looks at Don," he said darkly to Miss Lady on
+one occasion.
+
+Miss Lady laughed, "Oh! Connie's like the Last Duchess, she likes
+whate'er she looks on, and her looks go everywhere."
+
+"Yes, but this is different. Has she ever said anything to you about
+him?"
+
+"Mercy, yes, Connie talks to be about all the boys."
+
+"Does she talk about me?" Noah's eyes were as wistful as a dog's.
+
+For a second Miss Lady hesitated, then she compromised with truth and
+said, "yes." She did not add that Connie was particularly voluble on
+the subject of his hair, and the creak of his boots and his apparent
+genius for ubiquity.
+
+"Do you know what I'd do if I were you, Noah?" she said. "I'd have me
+a new suit of clothes made."
+
+"Why, these are new!"
+
+"Yes, I know, but they don't fit. And get some shoes that don't creak,
+and--and you won't mind my telling you, Noah? Pompadours went out of
+style six years ago."
+
+Noah gloomily shook his head. "It's not my clothes. It's not clothes
+that make Don Morley. By the way, aren't you two friends, any more?"
+
+Miss Lady faced the question unflinchingly. "Yes, we are friends. Is
+he going to win out?"
+
+"With Miss Connie?"
+
+"No, you foolish boy. In his trial."
+
+"I don't know."
+
+"What will happen if he loses?"
+
+"The case will be appealed."
+
+"And if he loses in the Court of Appeals?"
+
+"It's up to Gooch to see that he doesn't lose. I only wish I was as
+certain of a few other things as I am of Donald Morley's innocence!"
+
+One afternoon, a few days before the trial, Donald after oscillating
+between the hotel and his club and finding each equally intolerable,
+jumped on the car and went out to the Queeringtons. It was a cold, raw
+day, with a fine mist filling the air, and even the dull formality of
+the drab parlor seemed a relief from the gloom without.
+
+Miss Lady started up from the piano as he entered, but Connie pulled
+her back:
+
+"You shan't run off and leave us, shall she, Cousin Don? She was just
+going to play for Mr. Wicker to sing. Did you know he could sing?"
+
+"Oh, yes. Wick's the Original Warbler. Do you remember our serenades
+on the Cane Run Road, Wick?"
+
+"Yes," said Noah glumly.
+
+"I forgot that you and Mr. Wicker used to know each other," Connie
+said curiously. "Why the Cane Run Road runs by Thornwood, doesn't it?"
+
+"Yes," said Don calmly, seizing the conversation and shoving it out of
+shoal water. "Go ahead, Wick, and sing something; we'll join in the
+chorus."
+
+But when the time for the chorus came Donald had forgotten his
+promise. He was leaning back in a corner of the sofa, his hand shading
+his eyes, watching Miss Lady, and wondering what trick of fate had
+driven her to marry John Jay Queerington. There was no man in the
+world whose moral worth he admired more, but Miss Lady seemed as out
+of place in his life as a darting, quivering humming-bird in a museum
+of natural history. He noticed the faint shadows about her eyes, and
+the wistful droop of her lips. If he could only set her free! A mad
+desire seized him to see her once more joyously on the wing with all
+her old buoyancy and daring. And yet she had walked open eyed into her
+cage, and he had yet to see the tiniest flutter of her wings against
+the bars.
+
+On that first night of his home-coming surely he had read a welcome in
+her eyes! But never since by word or gesture had he reason to think
+that she remembered. She was gracious and elusive, and she talked to
+him as she talked to Decker and Gerald Ivy, only she looked at them
+when she talked, and she never even looked at him.
+
+Yet she _had_ cared! He had only to recall the flashing revelation of
+her eyes that night in the garden to know for one transcendent moment,
+at least, she was his. It was the look that had sustained his faith in
+her through all those weary months of silence, making him cling to the
+belief, until he heard the truth from her own lips, that she had
+failed to get his letter. It was the remembrance of that look and what
+it had promised that rushed upon him now as he watched her.
+
+All the reckless impulse of his boyhood, the long years of
+unrestraint, surged over him, urging him on to wake in her some answer
+to his fierce, insistent demand. She should remember the way he had
+loved her, she should know the way he loved her now. If there was any
+heart left in her she must respond in some way to his imperative need.
+
+But her eyes kept steadily on the key-board, and her fingers
+unfalteringly followed the notes. Could he have known how the tears
+burned under her lashes, and how cold her fingers were on the keys;
+could he have guessed how she sat there under his steady gaze, with
+tense muscles and quivering nerves, calculating the minutes that must
+elapse before Noah's interminable verses would end, and she could
+escape, he might have had compassion on her.
+
+"Sing, Cousin Don!" demanded Connie; "you are leaving it all to Mr.
+Wicker and me, while you sit there looking exactly as if you had lost
+your last friend."
+
+"No, only my illusions, Connie."
+
+"Where did you lose them?"
+
+"In Singapore. All but one. I hung on to it clear around the world,
+only to lose it on Christmas night when I got home. Don't you feel
+sorry for me?"
+
+"Not a bit," said Connie saucily. "I couldn't feel sorry for anybody
+as good looking as you are,--could you, Mr. Wicker? Where did Miss
+Lady go?"
+
+"She said she was going to lie down, that her head ached," said Noah.
+
+"I know what's the matter," said Connie; "she tries to keep us from
+seeing it, but she's all broken up over selling Thornwood."
+
+"Thornwood!" cried Donald; "she hasn't sold it?"
+
+"No, but it's been put up for sale. She'd die at the stake for Father.
+He doesn't even know about it."
+
+"But surely there is some other way." Connie shrugged her shoulders.
+"I am sure I don't know. Hattie's given up music and French, and we've
+put Bertie in the public school, and I haven't had but one party dress
+this winter. But a girl doesn't have to depend on clothes to have a
+good time, does she, Mr. Wicker?"
+
+That night Donald sat up late, turning things over in his mind. Once
+the trial was over he must go away, where he could not see Miss Lady
+or hear of her. He must plunge into some business that would absorb
+his time and attention. But before he went he must make an investment
+and make it at once. In order to do so, he would follow Basil Sequin's
+advice, and offer his bank stock for sale in the morning.
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XXI
+
+
+There was anxiety in the drab house in College Street. The second day
+of Donald Morley's trial had come and no decision had been reached.
+Every ring of the telephone, every opening of the front door brought a
+hurrying of feet through the hall, and an eager demand to know if
+there was any news.
+
+"I'll never get my lessons!" exclaimed Hattie petulantly, collecting
+her scattered belongings after one of these rushes to the door. "I
+wish to Heaven one of my fingers was a lead pencil!"
+
+"Why don't you wish your tongue was one, Hat, then you wouldn't have
+to sharpen it," suggested Connie.
+
+"I bet Miss Lady had my pencil," went on Hattie, ignoring Connie's
+comment. "She's never owned a pair of scissors, or a pencil, or a
+shoe-buttoner since she's been here. And look at those letters on the
+mantel! She'll never think about mailing them."
+
+"What are they doing with black borders?"
+
+"She bought a job lot of paper the other day, all colors and sizes,
+trying to be economical. She uses the mourning ones to pay the bills."
+
+"Yes, and I'll have to be putting little pink love letters in big blue
+envelopes all winter. Say, Hat, do you suppose it would be all right
+if I called up Mr. Wicker to ask him how the trial is going?"
+
+"Of course not. We'll hear as soon as there is anything to hear. I
+wish you'd hush talking and let me study."
+
+Connie heroically refrained from speech for five minutes, then she
+announced:
+
+"Do you know, I don't believe Miss Lady likes him!"
+
+"Who? Mr. Wicker?"
+
+"No, you silly,--Don."
+
+"When did you stop saying Cousin Don, pray?"
+
+"Oh, ages ago. She's always so quiet when he comes, and she goes up-
+stairs the first chance she gets. I think she's changed a lot since
+she first came, don't you?"
+
+"Well, I guess you'd change, too, if you had married a sick man with
+three children, as poor as poverty, and a cook as cross as Myrtella."
+
+"But she has Myrtella eating out of her hand. Imagine my marrying a
+man as old as Father!"
+
+"If I had to marry, I'd rather marry Father than anybody else. But
+I've never seen the man yet that I'd be willing to marry."
+
+"Oh, I have! I know ten right now that I'd marry in a minute."
+
+"Connie Queerington! Who are the others beside Gerald and Cousin Don?"
+
+"Guess."
+
+"Noah Wicker?"
+
+Connie laughed. "Mr. Wicker is not as bad as he was. He must have
+taken chloroform and had his pompadour cut. Don says he is awfully
+clever."
+
+"Anybody could be clever who took a whole day to compose each speech.
+I'll tell you what's the matter with Miss Lady; she is worrying
+herself sick over Father. Did she tell you what Doctor Wyeth told
+her?"
+
+"That Father would have to give up his classes, and get away some
+where? But of course he can't do it."
+
+"But he can! Miss Lady has rented Thornwood from the man who bought
+it, and we are all to go out there this spring."
+
+"Heavens! That means frogs and crickets and whippoorwills, and a
+lonesome time for me."
+
+"But think of Father!" said Hattie with her most virtuous air. "If
+it's perfectly quiet, perhaps he can finish his book."
+
+"No, he won't," said Connie petulantly. "He may finish himself, but
+he'll never finish that book; he keeps on thinking of more to say,
+just like Mr. Melcher does when he prays. If it weren't for that
+stupid old book he might get well. Was that the telephone?"
+
+It proved to be the side-door bell, which was rung by an old woman who
+had lost her husband and her front teeth, and was engaged in the
+precarious occupation of selling shoe-strings. She was one of the
+numerous proteges, who began to call on Miss Lady soon after
+breakfast, and kept up their visits through the day, to the
+exasperation of Myrtella Flathers, who spent her time devising means
+to rid the back hall of these incumbrances.
+
+In this instance strategy was not required, for she was bidden to send
+the woman away. Such an unusual proceeding aroused her curiosity and
+she returned to the dining-room to peep through the door at her young
+mistress, who had been sitting motionless since breakfast with her
+elbows on the table, and her hands locked under her chin. It was
+evident that something was wrong, and Myrtella became so concerned
+that she at last decided to take action. The panacea she applied to
+all ailments, moral or physical, was a counter-irritant.
+
+"Mis' Squeerington!" she ventured finally. "I hope you ain't fergot
+that it's Saturday mornin' an' you'd orter row the grocery man. He's a
+cortion, that's what he is, a-sendin' us Mis' Ivy's ribs, an' Mis'
+Logan's liver. It ain't a decent way to treat a old customer, an' he
+orter be told so. There never was a grocery man that was born into the
+world that didn't have to be rowed! They expect it, they look fer it,
+an' when they don't get it they feel it."
+
+"I can't 'row' people, Myrtella; I don't know how," said Miss Lady
+listlessly.
+
+"I'll learn you. You've picked up a lot more already than anybody
+would 'a' supposed you would when you first come. But one thing you
+ain't learned. When a lady goes to smilin' over the telephone, an'
+tellin' the butcher that she don't know one cut from another but
+she'll trust him to send her a nice piece, you kin count on it she's
+goin' to git a gristle. Compliments an' smiles may git some things,
+but it takes rowin' an' back-talk to git a good beefsteak!"
+
+"I think I'll send you to the grocery to-day, Myrtella,--it--it may
+rain."
+
+"It ain't goin' to rain before noon," Myrtella said authoritatively,
+in a tone that indicated her intention of stopping it immediately if
+it showed any intention of doing so. "It'll do you good to git out and
+walk a spell."
+
+Miss Lady shook her head.
+
+"Well, then you better let me send Bertie down here, he's makin' a
+awful racket in the nursery an' his pa'll be after him soon."
+
+Bertie was induced to abandon a life of adventure on the footboard of
+his bed, by the suggestion that Miss Lady had something to tell him in
+the dining-room. He came tearing through the hall shouting, "Extras,"
+at the top of his voice.
+
+"Bertie, darling! Please don't," cried Miss Lady roused from her
+apathy. "Remember it's Saturday and Father's home."
+
+"I wish he wasn't," said Bertie. "I hate a tiptoe house! When can I
+call extras?"
+
+"When we get up to Thornwood. You and I will play all over the hills,
+and I'll teach you to be a real country boy."
+
+"And can Chick be there, too?"
+
+"Yes, and perhaps by that time Chick will have been to the hospital
+and can talk like other boys."
+
+Bertie was standing on the back of her chair by this time, apparently
+trying to strangle her.
+
+"And can we slide down the ice-house like you used to do? And will
+Uncle Jimpson call up the doodle-bugs out of the ground like he did
+when you was a little girl?"
+
+"Listen!" cried Miss Lady suddenly starting up. "What is that?"
+
+From the far end of the street came the sound, "Wuxtry! Here's your
+Wuxtry! All about--"
+
+"It's just the newsboy I was being like," said Bertie. "What's the
+matter? What makes you shake so, Miss Lady?"
+
+Myrtella thrust her head in the door. "Here comes that there Mrs. Ivy
+running 'cross the yard. She's good fer a hour."
+
+But Mrs. Ivy did not seem to be good for anything by the time Miss
+Lady reached her. She was half reclining on a haircloth sofa in the
+front hall with a bottle of smelling salts to her nose and a newspaper
+in her hand.
+
+"Oh, my _dear_!" she managed to gasp. "Such a frightful shock! So
+utterly unexpected!"
+
+"Do you mean Don?" Miss Lady's lips scarcely moved as she asked the
+question.
+
+"No, the bank! I was all alone in the house when I heard the boys
+calling the extras--Ah! my poor weak heart!"
+
+"Brandy?" suggested Miss Lady anxiously.
+
+Mrs. Ivy raised feeble but protesting eyes: "Never! The Angel of Death
+shall never find me with the odor of liquor on my lips. Could you send
+for some nitroglycerin?"
+
+By the time Mrs. Ivy was revived, Connie and Hattie had joined the
+group in the hall, and the latter was reading aloud in awe-struck
+tones the account of the People's Bank failure. The age and reputation
+of the institution and the prominence of Basil Sequin as a local
+financier gave the subject grave significance.
+
+"And to think that I should be involved!" wailed Mrs. Ivy. "I've only
+been treasurer of the W. A. Board for six weeks and this was my first
+investment! They told me to use my judgment, and I did the best I
+could! Only last Thursday I went to see Mr. Gilson the broker, you
+know, about investing the money we're collecting for building the
+Parish House. He said I had come at the right moment as he had just
+gotten hold of some of the People's Bank stock, 'gilt edged,' he
+called it, and I remember just what I said to him, I said, 'Mr.
+Gilson, I simply let Providence lead me, and it led me to your door!'
+and I bought it!" sobbed Mrs. Ivy; "forty shares!"
+
+"I suppose Father's lost awfully," said Hattie, sitting round eyed and
+anxious on the steps.
+
+"And all the Sequins, and Don," added Connie.
+
+"It says that all the stockholders and most of the depositors stand to
+lose heavily," said Miss Lady, scanning the paper; "I must tell the
+Doctor at once."
+
+She sped up the steps and knocked breathlessly at his study door. It
+was only at the second knock that she was bidden to enter.
+
+The Doctor sat at his desk in a long, gray dressing-gown, with a rug
+across his knees: around him were ranged several straight-backed
+chairs on which were spread hundreds of pages of closely written
+manuscript. At his elbow on a stand was an immense dictionary, from
+which he lifted a pair of absorbed and preoccupied eyes.
+
+"Doctor!" Miss Lady burst out impetuously, "the Bank has failed--the
+paper says--"
+
+"If you please!" the Doctor raised an imploring hand; "don't tell me
+now. The news will keep and I am in a most critical stage of my
+summary. Today's work is important, very important. Kindly close the
+door."
+
+Miss Lady stood in the hall without and stared at the drab-colored
+wallpaper. A fierce anger rose in her, not against the Doctor, but
+against that vampire work which was sucking all the vitality and
+sympathy and understanding out of him. She was eager to bear his
+burdens; she was willing to fight his battles; but it was hard to take
+his side single-handed against herself. She wanted love, and affection
+and sympathy, and she wanted a manly shoulder to weep on when the way
+became too hard. But the Doctor's slanting, scholarly shoulder
+afforded no resting-place for a world-weary head.
+
+"Mis' Squeerington!" called Myrtella from the lower floor. "The
+grocery man didn't have no beets, and his new potatoes is hard as
+rocks, an' if I was you I'd go over to Smithers jes' to spite him out
+fer a spell. And I fergot to tell you that that there Mr. Wicker
+called you up a hour ago, an' sez the case was lost. I don't know what
+he meant. I hope he ain't lost it 'round here. Next thing I hear
+they'll be sayin' I took it!"
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XXII
+
+
+It is a depressing law of life that worries invariably hunt in packs.
+If it were just a matter of one yelping little annoyance that barked
+at your heels, you could frighten it away with a laugh; but when a
+ravenous horde gets on your trail with the grim determination of
+running you to earth, it is quite a different matter.
+
+Donald Morley, pacing the terrace at Angora Heights on a certain dark
+night in March, felt the breath of the pursuing pack close upon him.
+The failure to win his case had been a serious blow not only to his
+pride, but to his faith in his fellow man. He had gone into the trial
+with the assured confidence of an innocent man who is still young
+enough to rely absolutely upon the justice of the law. In spite of the
+array of damaging evidence presented by the prosecuting attorney, and
+the opinionated egotism of Mr. Gooch which rendered him unpopular with
+judge and jury, Donald's victory was almost assured, when the rumor of
+the People's Bank failure swept the court room. In the instant wave of
+suspicion that rose against Basil Sequin, Donald's cause was lost.
+Half the men on the jury were directly, or indirectly, involved. The
+case was summarily disposed of and the smaller matter swallowed up in
+the larger.
+
+Humiliated and chagrined as Donald was over his own position, he was
+equally concerned about the bank. The papers were full of disturbing
+innuendoes; people avoided speaking of it in his presence; distrust
+and suspicion lurked around the corners.
+
+Donald paused at the end of the terrace and looked up at the dark
+massive pile of masonry above him. In every leering gargoyle and
+carved coping, he read the ruin of some humble home.
+
+At the first hint of impending trouble, Mrs. Sequin had taken Margery
+and fled to Europe, leaving Mr. Sequin fighting with his back to the
+wall to meet the difficulties into which her extravagance had plunged
+him. "I have no fear for Basil," she assured her friends on leaving.
+"He'll straighten things out. Of course he'll be talked about, clever
+people always are, and the directors have been rather nasty. But he'll
+control the situation yet, you'll see."
+
+And Mrs. Sequin's confidence was being justified. Basil Sequin was
+controlling the situation. He had emerged from the ruin with his
+finances less affected than his reputation.
+
+Each time that Donald turned at the end of the long terrace, his eyes
+involuntarily sought a light that gleamed far below through the bare
+trunks of the trees. It was the light from Thornwood that once more
+threw its familiar beams across the Cane Run Road and up the gentle
+slope of Billy-goat Hill. He rested his arms on the balustrade and
+stood looking out into the night. There was a softness in the air, a
+smell of upturned earth, a faint whispering among the newly budded
+treetops that hinted of things about to be revealed.
+
+Suddenly there was a strange fluttering in the air above him, a
+tremulous, expectant thrill. Looking up he saw a flock of birds,
+wheeling and circling above him, making ready to light. Night after
+night they had traveled, over forests and across dark rivers,
+valiantly beating their frail wings against the gale, one purpose
+urging them on, straight as an arrow through the silent air,--the
+longing to find their old haunts under the friendly shelter of the
+Hill, and there to keep their love trysts in the place called home.
+
+Donald's throat contracted sharply. Never in those tumultuous days in
+Japan, nor in those desperate ones in Singapore had he wanted Miss
+Lady as he wanted her now. It was not her youth or her beauty that he
+was thinking of; it was the firm confident clasp of her hand, the
+unfaltering courage of her eyes, her words, "I do believe in you, Don,
+with all my heart and soul." He was like a starving man who must have
+bread even if it belongs to another. Before he knew it he was plunging
+down the footpath to the road.
+
+Connie would be his excuse, although he had been rather conscience-
+stricken about Connie of late. She had developed a taste for exploring
+that beguiling land of Flirtation where the boundary lines have never
+been defined, and dangers are known to lurk beyond the borders. As an
+old and experienced adventurer he felt that he had already accompanied
+her too far.
+
+As he reached Thornwood's big colonial gateway, he found some one
+alighting from a buggy.
+
+"Hello, Wick!" he said. "Wait, I'll open it for you. I thought you
+were staying in town!" Noah removed a pair of unmistakably new tan
+gloves and opened the gate for himself.
+
+"I am staying in town," he said distantly "Are you coming in here?"
+
+"Yes, I think I will drop in for a little while, unless you have an
+engagement?"
+
+Noah's pause was even longer than usual. "No," he drawled presently.
+"I can't say I have. Will you get in?"
+
+Donald could not suppress a smile as he got in beside him, and noticed
+the grandeur of his toilet.
+
+"You are getting awfully dressy these days, old chap. Who's the girl?"
+
+"You know who it is."
+
+"You surely don't mean Connie Queerington! Now, Wick, you want to go
+slow and not trifle with that girl. The first thing you know she will
+be falling in love with you.",
+
+Noah's lip stiffened. "If you would leave her alone perhaps she
+might."
+
+"What am I doing?"
+
+"The same thing you've always done. Going with a girl just long enough
+to spoil her for every other fellow, then going off and forgetting all
+about her."
+
+Donald looked in amazement at the angry face beside him.
+
+"What in thunder do you mean by that, Wick?"
+
+"What I say. I guess it hasn't been so long ago that we've both
+forgotten another instance." "See here, Wick," said Donald, his anger
+rising, "you'd better drop this. You don't know what you are talking
+about."
+
+"I know you spoiled my chances once and you are not going to spoil
+them again. You've got to leave Miss Connie alone. You've got to
+promise me--"
+
+"I promise you nothing."
+
+They had reached the hitching block and Donald got out of the buggy
+and, not waiting for his companion, went up the walk to the house. The
+peace of the old place wrapped him round like the folds of a warm
+garment He forgot Noah, and the pursuing troubles; he forgot
+everything except that Thornwood, with all its memories and
+traditions, was for the present his, held in sacred trust until that
+time when he could give it back to the one who loved it best.
+
+"Why, it's Cousin Don!" cried Connie who had heard the wheels and come
+to investigate. "I never was so glad to see anybody in my life. I
+thought it was Mr. Wicker!"
+
+"Cheer up! He's hitching his horse at the block now."
+
+"How tiresome! I thought we left him in town yesterday. I don't
+believe you are a bit glad to have us for a neighbor. Why didn't you
+come over last night? I haven't seen you for four days!"
+
+"You haven't missed anything, Connie. I've been down and out."
+
+"Everybody has! It's too stupid for words. Since the trial and the
+bank failure I haven't been able to get a smile out of anybody! I hope
+the Turtle won't be grumpy."
+
+"Who is the Turtle?"
+
+"Mr. Wicker. Hat calls him that, because he never lets go 'til it
+thunders. Aren't you coming in the parlor?"
+
+"No, I'll give Wick the field to-night. I want to see your Father on
+business."
+
+"That sounds interesting!" said Connie audaciously. "You might have
+spoken to me first!"
+
+The Doctor was preparing to go up to bed when Donald entered the
+sitting-room, but he put down his candle and greeted him warmly.
+
+"A phenix rising from his ashes!" he said. "I am glad to see that you
+have survived the trials of the past ten days. It is very kind of you
+to come over in the midst of your trouble to welcome us to our new
+quarters. You are not going to leave us, my dear?" this to Miss Lady
+who had risen at Donald's entrance.
+
+"I was going to get your beef-tea."
+
+"Oh, to be sure. I can't begin to tell you, Donald, how much I regret
+the decision in your case. How did it happen?"
+
+Donald, whose hungry eyes were devouring every familiar detail of the
+homely fire-lit room, shrugged his shoulders. "Eleven jury-men were
+for acquittal, I am told, and the twelfth, a fellow named Jock Hibben
+talked them over."
+
+"Jock Hibben? I know the man. A radical Socialist who has been giving
+us some trouble at the university. Quite an orator, I believe, but a
+fanatic. You have made a motion for a new trial?"
+
+"It has been refused."
+
+"Indeed! And you appeal it, of course?"
+
+"Yes."
+
+"The decision is bound to be reversed," the Doctor assured him, "and
+the second trial will go in your favor. I have never doubted the
+ultimate outcome. What is that scratching noise?"
+
+Miss Lady, who was just entering, paused to listen, then she suddenly
+set the cup she carried on the table, and flung open the door.
+
+A long, shaggy, disheveled dog, with small, sad eyes, and a stub of a
+tail, hurled himself upon her, and began rapturously to lick her
+hands.
+
+"It's Mike," she cried joyously, sitting on the floor and gathering
+her muddy visitor into her arms. "I knew he'd find out we were home.
+Oh! you blessed, blessed dog!"
+
+Mike, unable to restrain his transports, made a mad tour of the room,
+upsetting the stack of manuscript that the Doctor had neatly arranged
+on a stand beside him. On his second round he discovered the visitor
+whom he sniffed with increasing excitement.
+
+Donald raised a forefinger, and tapped his knee. In an instant Mike
+remembered. Lifting his fore-paws, and dropping his head upon them, he
+answered the call to prayer.
+
+Two pairs of eyes met involuntarily, and the owners smiled.
+
+"Do put him out, my dear," urged the Doctor, who had stooped to pick
+up the scattered sheets of his manuscript. "This is the last volume of
+my series, Donald. You remember I was collecting data for it when you
+were at the university. I had expected to publish it this spring, but
+it will have to be postponed now."
+
+Donald winced. "On account of the bank failure, I suppose?"
+
+"Well, yes. Basil advises a curtailment of all expenditure for the
+present. However, it may be just as well to publish in the fall. That
+will give me three more months on the revision."
+
+"I hope you were not seriously involved, Doctor?"
+
+"No, no, I imagine not," said the Doctor vaguely as he made a marginal
+correction on one of the sheets. "Basil and I have been so much
+occupied that we have scarcely had a chance to discuss the matter. He
+said I might possibly lose something, but that he would protect my
+interests. I trust you are not one of the losers?"
+
+"No," Donald said shortly, "I lost nothing." Then after a pause during
+which he stared at the floor, he looked up. "Doctor, I want to consult
+you about something. Your standards of right and wrong seem to me a
+bit surer than most people's. I'm in trouble and I want your advice."
+
+He was looking at the Doctor as he spoke, but he was acutely conscious
+of the slender figure that stood with her back to them before the open
+fire.
+
+"You see," he said, plunging into his subject, "a week before the bank
+failed I found that I might need a lot of ready money before I got
+through with the trial. So I sold all my People's Bank stock."
+
+"That was fortunate."
+
+"But, Doctor! Don't you see? At the time I sold the shares they
+weren't worth the paper they were printed on!"
+
+"But you were ignorant of this."
+
+"Of course; but does that alter the fact that I took money for stock
+that was worthless?"
+
+The Doctor rubbed his hands together thoughtfully. For once he was not
+prepared to give an immediate answer to a question concerning a moral
+issue.
+
+"On the spur of the moment I should advise you to refund the money,
+but I do not know if such advice is wise. The fact is, neither you nor
+I are sufficiently versed in financial matters to know what is
+customary in such cases. What does your brother-in-law advise?"
+
+"I have had no conversation with him since the bank failed. He stays
+in town nearly every night, and you can imagine what his days are."
+
+"Well, I should put the matter before him, explain my scruples, and
+then act unquestioningly on his advice. It has been my rule in life,
+when my own judgment did not suffice, to consult the highest available
+authority upon that given subject and abide by it. Basil Sequin, in
+spite of this unfortunate failure, is undoubtedly our ablest
+financier. I can only bid you do as I have done; leave everything
+entirely to him."
+
+"I shouldn't!" cried Miss Lady, wheeling about with a return of her
+old, childlike, impetuous manner; "I shouldn't leave it to anybody.
+I'd buy back the stock, every share of it. I wouldn't keep money for
+which I'd given nothing! You ought to see Miss Ferney Foster! She
+bought bank stock only last week; gave all the money she'd made on her
+pickles for ten years, and when she found the bank had failed, she
+went out of her head. I've been there to-day and she didn't know me."
+
+"Who sold her the stock?"
+
+"A broker named Gilson."
+
+"It was my stock," Donald cried "Of course she's got to be paid back!
+And all the rest of them. I'll buy back every share of it, if it takes
+my last dollar!"
+
+"Will it take all you have?" Miss Lady scanned his face anxiously.
+
+"Yes, and more. I made an investment with some of the money before I
+knew the bank was in trouble; then there's the double liability law.
+It wouldn't matter so much if it weren't for the trial."
+
+"Your sister, of course, will be ready to help you. Or has she, too,
+lost?"
+
+"No," said Donald, his lips tightening, "she hasn't lost. She's had no
+stock in the bank for a year. But I shan't call upon her."
+
+"Because she opposed your course so violently? Oh, I see. A point of
+honor on which I quite agree with you. But you are not going under,
+Donald. We will see to that. I am not a wealthy man, as you know.
+There have been times recently when the future looked very dark. But
+this little lady has steered us into calmer waters. If you should, in
+the course of the next few months, be in need of a reasonable sum, I
+am happy to say we will be in a position to accommodate you."
+
+Donald gripped his hand. "I shan't call on you, Doctor. But once I'm
+through with this accursed trial, I'll try to justify your belief in
+me."
+
+The tall clock in the hall gave a preliminary wheeze, then hiccoughed
+nine times violently. The Doctor carefully arranged his voluminous
+papers in a shabby, brown portfolio, and rose with an effort.
+
+"You will excuse me now if I bid you good night? My physician has
+become rather arbitrary in regulating my hours. Keep up your courage,
+my boy; that courage that 'scorns to bend to mean devices for a sordid
+end.' I admire the course you have taken, I admire you. Good night to
+you both."
+
+They watched him go, with his tall, stooped figure, and his fine,
+serious eyes that saw life only through the stultifying medium of
+books. Then they looked at each other.
+
+"I'll call Connie," Miss Lady said, moving to the door.
+
+"Just a minute, please."
+
+She came back reluctantly, and stood with her hands clasped on the
+back of a chair, breathing quickly.
+
+"Do you remember," Donald asked, standing in front of her and speaking
+in a low, tense voice, "the last time we stood in this room, and the
+promises I made you? Well, I've kept them. I've fought like the
+devil,--You don't know what it means, you can't know. But I've kept
+them. Now I want to tell you that I've got to break over. You are
+right about the bank-stock money. It's not mine. I'll pay it back to-
+morrow. But more money has to come from somewhere to carry on the
+trial. There's only one chance I can think of. I've got to enter
+Lickety Split for the Derby."
+
+"No, you haven't! There are other ways. You must go to work."
+
+"Work!" he broke out fiercely. "Haven't I been trying to get a
+position ever since I came home? Who wants to tie up to me until this
+cursed case is decided? I have been trying to write, but my things
+come back faster than I can send them out. What am I good for? A game
+at billiards, _sixty_ miles an hour in a motor car, a lark with any
+idler that happens in the club. Bah! I'm sick of having people
+patronize me because I am not in the game, because I've never earned a
+penny, except by gambling, in my life!"
+
+"But that's all behind you, Don! You've got the rest of your life to
+live differently. When the case is decided--"
+
+"Yes, and suppose it goes against me? It did before, it may again.
+Talk about justice and truth! I've failed to find them. I've had
+enough of this glorious thing called life; I'm ready to quit."
+
+"You can't quit, Don!" She said it softly, with the firelight flushing
+her eager, solicitous face. "Don't you suppose we all want to quit
+sometimes? We've just got to take a fresh grip on our courage and
+fight it out. I'm in trouble myself, to-night, Don. Will you help me?"
+
+His eyes flew to hers as he half knelt on the chair before her.
+
+"I've sold Thornwood," she went on, her lips trembling. "I can hardly
+speak of it, even yet. I feel like a traitor to Daddy, to all the
+Carseys who ever lived here, to myself! You know what the place means
+to me. I believe I should die if I ever saw any one else living here!
+I don't know who bought it, I don't want to know. All I know is that
+I've been perfectly wretched every hour since I signed the paper,
+until just now when the Doctor offered to lend you the money. Oh! Don,
+if I thought selling Thornwood meant that we could help clear your
+name, there'd never be another instant of regret! You'll let us help
+you?"
+
+He put up his hand as if to ward off a blow: "Don't," he said harshly.
+"I can't take your help. I can't even take your friendship, or the
+Doctor's. Don't you see that I'm going through hell? Don't you know
+that I love you?"
+
+The color left her face, and her eyes wavered a moment, then steadied.
+
+"You must never say that again, Don! You must try not to think of it.
+I'll forgive you because I want you to forgive me for something. You
+know the letter you sent me from San Francisco? I burned it, unopened,
+right there where you are standing now. It was a cowardly thing to do,
+even though I thought you were in the wrong. If I had known the truth
+I never would have kept silent all those months. It was a great wrong
+I did you, Don; can you forgive me?"
+
+He studied her face, as if he would by sheer intensity probe those
+luminous eyes that said everything and nothing. At last his head
+dropped.
+
+"I was a fool ever to think you cared," he said brokenly; "I knew I
+wasn't good enough for you. I knew it from the first, but I tried.
+Shall I keep on trying for your sake?"
+
+"No, Don, not for mine. For your own, and for the sake of the girl
+you'll some day make your wife. But I want you to remember that I
+shall feel responsible for whatever happens to you. If you give up the
+fight and go back to the old life, I shall know it was because I
+failed you; if you succeed, as I believe you will, I shall be happy
+always in knowing that I had a little part in it. Shall we say good
+night?"
+
+[Illustration: "It was a great wrong I did you Don, can you forgive
+me?"]
+
+He took the hand she offered him and one of those silences followed
+which once having passed between a man and woman, is remembered above
+all spoken words, a silence in which all barriers fall away, and soul
+speaks to soul. It was like a great harmony quivering with beautiful
+things unsaid.
+
+He left her standing in the firelight, her eyes shining strangely in
+her otherwise passive face. He closed the door resolutely on the light
+and warmth of the homelike, cheery room, and passing out to the road,
+miserably turned his steps toward the empty grandeur of the big house
+whose turreted and gabled roof broke the sky-line at the top of the
+Hill.
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XXIII
+
+
+In two of the gloomiest and dirtiest little rooms in the dirtiest and
+gloomiest of little streets that dangle at loose ends from the
+courthouse yard, Mr. Gooch had his office. It was a small dark place
+that suggested nothing so much as an overflowing scrap-basket. Papers
+littered the table, and spilled out of every pigeon-hole of the old
+secretary; papers lay in stacks along the book-shelves, and bulged
+from fat envelopes on the mantel-shelf. Over and above and under all
+lay the undisturbed dust of months.
+
+In the corner which was reduced to perpetual twilight by the proximity
+of the jail wall adjoining, Noah Wicker sat on his high stool, and by
+the assistance of a solitary swinging light, excavated lumps of legal
+lore from the mines of wisdom about him. To one who had not seen Noah
+since his first days of attorneyship, he presented an unfamiliar
+appearance. His feet, still hooked awkwardly under the rung of the
+stool, were shod in patent leather shoes of a style so pronounced that
+they rendered him slightly pigeon-toed. His clothes were of the most
+approved cut, and his hosiery reflected the hue of his tie.
+
+His hair, only, was reminiscent of the country youth who had emerged
+from the law school a short time before, in store clothes and creaking
+boots. A front lock that has been assiduously urged to stand up for
+many years, is not inclined to sit down at the first whim of its
+owner. It has reached an age of independence, and is inclined to
+insist upon its rights.
+
+Noah, alone in the office one spring day, surreptitiously took from
+his desk a small object, which he held in the palm of his broad hand,
+and studied minutely. When the rays from the swinging electric
+happened to strike it, it sent spots of light dancing on the grimy
+ceiling. For Noah was becoming anxious about his pompadour and could
+not refrain from examining it at frequent intervals. Every expedient
+had been resorted to from surgery to soap, but the stubbly blond lock
+defied him. It seemed the last barrier that rose between him and
+cosmopolitan life.
+
+A light step on the stairs sent the mirror into the desk, and brought
+a look of absorbed concentration to his expansive brow.
+
+"Is Mr. Gooch here?" asked Connie Queerington, thrusting a plumed hat
+into his range of vision.
+
+Noah disengaged himself from the stool and came forward eagerly, but
+paused when he found that she was not alone.
+
+"Come on in, Gerald," she said hospitably. "You know Mr. Wicker, don't
+you? At any rate he knows you. I've told him reams about you, haven't
+I, Mr. Wicker?"
+
+Noah bowed gravely, and after bringing forward chairs, retired to his
+desk, in a state of outward calm and inward wrath.
+
+Gerald Ivy daintily dusted the chair with his handkerchief, and sat
+down, nursing one silk-clad ankle across his knee, in order not to
+expose more of his garments than was necessary to the grime of Mr.
+Gooch's abode.
+
+"What a nuisance he isn't here!" said Connie. "I could leave Father's
+message but I left word for Hat to meet me here. What time do you have
+to go, Gerald?"
+
+"Four o'clock," said Gerald, then glancing at the clock, "it's only
+three-thirty now."
+
+"The clock is slow," announced Noah unexpectedly from his corner.
+
+Gerald leisurely removed his gloves. "What does half an hour matter
+when I can spend it with you? I was just going to meet Mater at the
+jail where she has been pinning rosebuds on repentant bosoms. Come,
+tell me all about yourself!" He leaned forward with elbows on his
+knees, and hands clasped, dropping his voice to a confidential tone,
+and bringing the whole battery of his glances to play upon her.
+
+"Why should I?" asked Connie archly. "You haven't been near me since I
+went to the country."
+
+"What was the use? You couldn't expect me to compete with a hero, who
+is making such a grandstand play as Morley. Giving himself up for an
+act he says he didn't commit, refunding money when he doesn't have to,
+going to work as a scrub reporter when he has lived like a lord all
+his life! I don't see how the theatrical managers have overlooked him!
+He is the stuff matinee idols are made of. He's turned the heads of
+half the girls in town!"
+
+"He's turned mine all right," said Connie complacently. "I'm crazy
+about him. And he isn't doing all those things for effect either. He
+is not that kind. Is he, Mr. Wicker?"
+
+Noah, thus suddenly appealed to, was compelled to answer truthfully
+that he was not. But he did so with a protesting jerk of the elbow,
+that sent an ink-bottle flying to the floor.
+
+Gerald took advantage of the mishap to get Connie over to the window.
+
+"It's beastly lonesome without you," he whispered. "When are you
+coming home?"
+
+"Heaven knows!" said Connie, putting her hands behind her for safe-
+keeping. "Now that somebody else has rented the College Street house,
+and Miss Lady has sold Thornwood, I don't know what's to become of
+us."
+
+"Don't you miss me a little bit?" asked Gerald, playing with the
+silver purse on her wrist.
+
+"Of course I do, silly. Is my hat on straight? I wish I had a mirror."
+
+Noah kneeling on the floor, mopping up the ink, reached toward the
+desk, and then paused.
+
+"I'll be your mirror!" said Gerald, presenting his eyes in a way that
+only a very near-sighted person could have taken advantage of.
+
+"City Hall clock's striking four," said Noah grimly.
+
+But Noah's desire to have Connie to himself was not to be gratified.
+No sooner had Gerald gone, than Hattie arrived, very slim and angular,
+and carrying a prodigious stack of school-books.
+
+"What was the sense of my meeting you here?" she demanded of Connie,
+wasting no time on amenities. "You've made me miss the four-two train,
+and come out of my way. What did you want with me?"
+
+"I wanted to use your mileage book, dear," said Connie sweetly. "How
+long do you suppose it will be, Mr. Wicker, before Mr. Gooch comes
+in?"
+
+"Any minute now," said Noah, smoothing down his hair with an inky
+finger. "I--I think the clock is a little fast." Then as Connie
+laughed, he jerked up the top of his desk and disappeared behind it.
+
+"Stuffy old place!" said Connie, wandering about the room. "If Mr.
+Gooch wasn't so stingy he'd have it cleaned up."
+
+"I wouldn't call a man stingy who had given a library to the law
+school," Hattie objected.
+
+"Yes, and he's spent the rest of his life saving every penny to pay
+himself back for it. He has eaten fifty-two suppers a year at our
+house for ten years, that's five hundred and twenty suppers, and he's
+never even treated us to a chocolate sundae!"
+
+"I don't think it's stingy to be economical," Hattie said with her
+most superior air.
+
+Noah, who was facing the open door, suddenly began making strange
+gestures, and violent appeals for silence, but the girls were off on
+an old argument and did not see him.
+
+"Besides," Connie was saying conclusively, "he cheats at cards; you
+know he does,"
+
+"Only at solitaire. I don't see any reason why he shouldn't cheat
+himself if he wants to. He's all right, even if he is queer, and I
+think you ought to be ashamed of yourself to talk about him the way
+you do!"
+
+"How do you do, Harriet?" said Mr. Gooch dryly, entering from the
+outer room and not glancing at Connie. "A message from your father?"
+
+Connie slipped the note into Hattie's hand and took refuge with Noah
+behind the desk top.
+
+"Did he hear?" she whispered hysterically. Then not waiting for a
+reply she pounced upon an object in the desk. "Is that a mirror?"
+
+Noah shamefacedly produced it.
+
+"Hold it for me," she commanded. "Not so far off. Like that!"
+
+Standing there behind the desk holding his little mirror for her to
+powder her nose seemed to Noah the apotheosis of romance.
+
+"Too much?" she asked, tilting her face for inspection. "And is my hat
+right? I want to look my best, because you know I _may_ meet Donald
+Morley on the steps."
+
+She was evidently not disappointed, for Noah, standing at the window
+waiting to catch the last flutter of her feather as she passed up the
+street, had to wait five agonizing minutes, at the end of which Don
+spoke to him from the door.
+
+"Hello, Wick. Is Mr. Gooch here?"
+
+"He was a minute ago."
+
+"Is he coming back?"
+
+"I don't know, I'm sure."
+
+Noah made the answers in a tone that discouraged further conversation,
+and Donald after a sharp glance at him, shrugged his shoulders and
+picked up a book. He had not long to wait before Mr. Gooch returned.
+
+"I've been telephoning all over town for you," said the lawyer
+testily. "Is this rumor true that you have bought back your bank
+stock?"
+
+"It is. It was the only honest thing I could do."
+
+"Not at all," complained Mr. Gooch, who became passionately attached
+to the contrary opinion the moment he ascertained yours. "It was a
+most quixotic, a most reckless course to take. I suppose you know of
+the double liability?"
+
+"Yes, I know," Donald flung out impatiently.
+
+"You are singularly fortunate, Mr. Morley, to be able to indulge these
+magnanimous whims. Your resources I presume--"
+
+"My resources consist in a piece of real estate and a couple of race
+horses. That's about all that's left."
+
+"The real estate?" Mr. Gooch looked encouraged. "City property?"
+
+"No, it's a farm."
+
+"Where?"
+
+"On the Cane Run Road."
+
+Noah's head appeared above the desk for the first time during the
+conversation and he looked surprised, as if he had made a discovery.
+
+"Adjoining your sister's property, I judge?" continued Mr. Gooch.
+"That's good, very good. It ought to bring about--?"
+
+"It's not for sale," said Donald shortly.
+
+Mr. Gooch, who had emerged to the rim of his shell, promptly went in
+again.
+
+"You see, Mr. Gooch," said Donald, leaning forward and speaking
+earnestly, "when you took this case I had no need to think of the
+financial end of it. I wanted to get the affair straight, and I didn't
+care a hang what it would cost. Since then things have changed. I
+think it's only fair to tell you that after I sell my horses and
+settle things up, there won't be more than a thousand dollars left.
+Will that cover your fee?"
+
+Mr. Gooch was visibly offended. "It is not my custom, sir, to name a
+sum in advance. There's a great deal of work on this case, of a very
+annoying nature. We might try to come under the amount stipulated, and
+in a pinch of course you could sell the real estate."
+
+"No," said Donald, "I shall not sell it. And I've got to know to-day
+what your terms will be. I've got work with the _Herald-Post_ as
+temporary correspondent at the Capitol. I'm going up there to-morrow,
+and will probably stay on until my case is called. I'd like to have
+your definite answer at once."
+
+"Well, I didn't want the case in the beginning," said Mr. Gooch. "It's
+the sort of thing I don't care for. I might be able to finish it for a
+thousand dollars, but I don't know that I'd care to commit myself."
+
+"Very well," said Donald, rising with spirit. "That means that I'll
+have to get another lawyer."
+
+"You'll be making a mistake," said Mr. Gooch, twisting his small
+features into a hard knot, and watching Donald closely. "It's a great
+risk to change lawyers in the middle of a case. There's a great deal
+at stake. You oughtn't to stand back on a question of money at a
+critical time like this."
+
+"Good Lord, man! I'm not standing back on a question of money! I'd put
+up all I had if it was a million. Do you suppose I would have taken a
+job in Frankfort for ten dollars a week if I had any money?"
+
+"But you still hold property!"
+
+"I do, Mr. Gooch, and for reasons you could never understand I shall
+continue to hold it. Good day."
+
+"Stop a minute!" Noah Wicker unfolded himself in sections, and got to
+his feet.
+
+"Suppose you let me take your case."
+
+Donald and Mr. Gooch looked at him with equal amazement.
+
+"I haven't had much experience," Noah went on slowly and grimly. "I
+didn't even know a reputable lawyer could throw a case over in the
+middle when a client lost his money. I've got a lot to learn. But I do
+know this case from end to end, and I know you, Don Morley. If I can't
+clear you with or without money, I'd better give up the practice of
+law right here and now. Do you think you'd be willing to trust me?"
+
+Donald hesitated for a moment, glancing from Noah's honest, homely
+face to Mr. Gooch's sneering one, then he jumped to a decision.
+
+"It's a go, Wick! And the fee--"
+
+Noah extended a hand, the breadth of whose palm has already been
+commented upon.
+
+"The fee be damned," he drawled.
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XXIV
+
+
+Donald Morley packed his few belongings and went on his small mission
+for the _Herald-Post_ with a determination worthy of a larger cause.
+The remuneration was less than he had been in the habit of paying his
+stable boy, but failure to secure a position, together with a depleted
+bank account, had chastened his spirit, and he was ready to grasp at
+anything that would give him a chance to justify the belief of his
+friends.
+
+When he first arrived at the sleepy little town where the state
+transacted its business, he took two rooms at the hotel. Later he
+moved to a boarding-house, and by the end of the third week he was in
+a small, bare room in an office building, eating his breakfasts at the
+depot, his luncheons at a restaurant, and his dinners at the hotel.
+For in his determination to square himself with the world he had
+managed to dispose of nearly all he had, excepting a thousand dollars
+which he had secretly deposited to Noah's account.
+
+At first poverty was a somewhat diverting novelty; it served to keep
+his mind off those pursuing terrors that had filled his horizon. For
+the first time in life he was economizing for a purpose. But to make
+the usual expenditure of a day extend over a week requires forethought
+and judgment, neither of which qualities Donald possessed. He had
+counted on augmenting the small sum received from the _Herald-Post_ by
+writing feature articles for other papers, but his efforts had met
+with small success. In vain he arranged his article after the exact
+plan laid down by Cropsie Decker. He clipped, pasted and pinned,
+looked up statistics, verified statements and ruthlessly weeded out
+every little vagrant fancy that dared intrude on the solemn company of
+facts. But his efforts when finished bore the same relation to
+Cropsie's that a pile of bricks does to a house.
+
+Only once had he set Cropsie and his lapboard literature aside, and
+followed his own impulse. It was after his first call at the
+Queeringtons', when the Doctor had advised him to choose a congenial
+theme and let his fancy have full rein. A word of encouragement was
+all he needed to begin a series of tales that had burned for utterance
+ever since he left India. They were the adventures related to him by
+his Mohammedan bearer, Khalil Samad, who had sat on his heels many a
+night before the young sahib's fire, and spun yarns of marvelous
+variety. Donald had only to close his eyes to see the keen, subtle
+face surmounted by its huge white turban, and to hear the torrent of
+picturesque broken English that poured from the lips of one of the few
+Mohammedans in India who could curse the various natives in their own
+vernacular from the Khyber Pass to Trichinopoli.
+
+But the story of Khalil's adventures having been launched into unknown
+waters, had not yet been heard from, and Donald patiently returned to
+his feature articles, holding himself down to the actual and being
+bored as only a person with a creative imagination can be bored by the
+naked, unadorned truth.
+
+His one consolation these days was in the fact that Miss Lady would
+not have to give up Thornwood. Through an agent he had leased the
+place to the Queeringtons for the next two years at an absurdly low
+sum, and the thought of her in the midst of her beloved surroundings
+went far to reconcile him to the meagerness of his own.
+
+His dingy little room boasted only an iron bed and washstand, the rest
+of the floor space being principally occupied by his imposing brass-
+bound steamer-trunk covered with foreign labels. On the dusty shelf
+over the washstand stood an incongruous array of silver-mounted,
+monogramed toilet articles; around the wall ran a dado of shoes, while
+from the gas-pipe depended a heavy bunch of neckties. The chief
+inconvenience in being poor, Donald had decided, was in not knowing
+what to do with one's things.
+
+It was not only his things, however, that he found difficulty in
+disposing of. For a given number of hours a day a man can hold himself
+down to the task of sitting at a small deal table, covering yellow
+tablets with words that will probably never be read, but after too
+long a stretch nature is apt to rebel. At such times Donald raged like
+a pent lion. His mind involuntarily flew to the possibility of this
+confinement being but a foretaste of the other that waited for him
+should the rehearing not be granted. From the beginning he had refused
+to consider the possibility of conviction; he was innocent, he would
+be cleared. But as the days dragged on, a shadow began to dog his
+steps and to sit on the foot of his bed by night, grinning at him
+through bars of iron.
+
+Had there been a friend to whom he could turn during these days he
+might have been spared some of the hours of anguish he endured, but
+his pride was cut to the quick, and he shrank from seeing any one who
+knew him or his family. Cropsie Decker could have helped him, but
+Cropsie was in Mexico. To Noah Wicker he had ceased to be an
+individual, he had become a client, a first client, and personalities
+were swamped in abstractions. The only place where he could have found
+sympathy and understanding was at Thornwood, the hospitable door of
+which he had resolutely closed with his own hand. If he thought the
+depths of loneliness had been sounded out there in the Orient, he had
+now to learn that it is only in one's own country, among one's own
+people, that the plummet strikes bottom.
+
+The day before the case was to be presented Noah came up from the
+city, and once again they went over every tiresome, familiar detail.
+By the time evening arrived Donald was in a state of black dejection.
+Half a dozen sleepless nights, and the return of several articles did
+not tend to brighten the situation, and when Noah accepted an
+invitation from the Judge to dine with him, Donald felt that he had
+been abandoned to his fate.
+
+Twilight was closing in, the kind that has no beginning and no end, a
+damp, gray saturating twilight that smothers the soul in a fog of
+gloom and relaxes all the moral fibers. Donald went to his small
+window and looked out. The street below was deserted, save for an
+occasional shabby surrey, splashing through the mud on its way to the
+station. At long intervals an umbrella bobbed past, and once a drove
+of cattle lumbered by, driven by a boy astride a mule. Donald jerked
+down the shade savagely, and lit the single gas-jet.
+
+In a magazine which he picked up was a graphic article on child labor
+in the mines, giving pictures of ragged, emaciated children who spent
+their lives underground, breathing foul air and becoming dwarfed in
+body and soul. He flung the book from him and dropped his head upon
+his arms. Life seemed a great, inexorable machine, setting at naught
+human aspiration, human endeavor. What was the good of fighting it?
+What was the sense in believing in a divine order, in such infernal
+chaos?
+
+Unable to stand his own company any longer, he seized his hat and
+started for the hotel. He was in a reckless, hopeless mood, ready to
+take diversion wherever he found it, and as is usual in such cases,
+diversion met him half way.
+
+The little hotel office was in a spasm of activity, bells were
+ringing, doors slamming, and guests arriving. The group of loiterers
+who usually sat facing the fire, criticizing the daily proceedings of
+the legislature, now stood in a semicircle with their backs to it,
+watching the new arrivals.
+
+"It's a theatrical company," explained one of the voluble crowd to
+Donald; "the liveliest lay-out we've had for moons. That's the star
+talking to the fellow in the checked suit. Some winner, isn't she?"
+
+The object of this remark, having just told a story that elicited a
+round of laughter, turned carelessly and swept the room with a
+brilliant, experienced glance. The searchlight passed the porter and
+bell boys, the obsequious clerk at the desk, the semicircle of
+admirers at the fire, and came to an audacious pause when it reached
+Donald Morley.
+
+He was lighting a cigarette at the moment, and presented an appearance
+of colossal indifference to all stars, terrestrial and celestial. But
+when he had tossed the match into the open grate, he nonchalantly
+sauntered to the desk and glanced at the register.
+
+There was the dashing signature, the ink still wet on the flourish,
+
+"La Florine."
+
+It was Cropsie Decker's old flame, "The Serpent of the Nile," whom he
+had last seen poised on the cork of a champagne bottle on a poster on
+Billy-goat Hill! Without looking up he was aware that the same
+mischievous eyes which had peeped through the black-gloved fingers on
+the poster, were watching him now with the liveliest interest. They
+followed him across the room, they laughed at him over the shoulder of
+the man in the checked suit, they flung a challenge at his feet, and
+dared him pick it up.
+
+Donald watched her with increasing fascination. It was good just to be
+near anything so careless, and gay, and irresponsible. He, too, had
+once poised tiptoe on the perilous edge of things, and laughed
+defiance in the face of Fate. Why shouldn't he do it again? A man
+about to be hanged is given a last good dinner, why shouldn't he humor
+himself to one more good time before the die was cast on the morrow?
+
+It would only be necessary to present his card and mention Cropsie
+Decker, and the rest would be easy. He had just about enough money to
+pay for a theater ticket, and a cozy little supper afterward. But what
+about flowers?
+
+He thrust his hand eagerly into his pocket on an investigating tour.
+As he did so his ringers encountered a small, hard object which he
+drew forth and looked at curiously. It was the dried hip of a wild
+rose, that had been transferred from pocket to pocket since the day it
+dared to bloom before its time, in a cranny of the stone wall that
+circled the garden at Thornwood. The touch of it brought back an old
+barrel hammock under the lilacs, and the glowing eyes of a girl,
+lifted to his with a look of trusting innocence.
+
+Without another glance at "The Serpent of the Nile," he turned up his
+coat collar, pulled his hat over his eyes and plunged out into the
+wet, dismal street. For hours he tramped, neither knowing nor caring
+where he went. He was fighting the hardest fight a man is called on to
+fight, the fight against himself with no reward in view.
+
+When he got back to his room, spent and disheveled at nine o'clock, he
+found two letters under his door. One, a black-bordered envelope
+addressed in Connie's familiar scrawl, he thrust into his pocket,
+smiling in spite of himself at the memory of Miss Lady's bargain
+stationery. The other, a long, bulky envelope, bearing the device of a
+well-known magazine, caused him to sit limply down on his steamer-
+trunk and gaze at it miserably.
+
+His cherished story had come back at last! The possibility of its
+being accepted had been the one hope he had clung to during many a
+desperate hour. In it he had, for the first time, dared to say the
+things he felt, to venture boldly into the land of romance which
+hitherto he had cautiously skirted. Dozens of other similar tales were
+teeming in his brain, only waiting to know the fate of this one. And
+it had come back! It was the best he had to offer, and his best was
+not good enough! He looked at the shabby, dog-eared sheet, and the
+folded enclosure that doubtless set forth the editor's smug regrets,
+then with an impatient gesture he flung the envelope and its contents
+into the scrap-basket, cursing himself and his conceit in thinking he
+could write, and editors and their conceit in thinking they could
+judge.
+
+The folded enclosure, meanwhile, that had been in the manuscript
+elected to disprove the total depravity of inanimate things, and
+instead of falling face downward, fell face upward on the very top of
+the heap. Thus it was that Donald Morley, charging desperately about
+his limited quarters, suddenly spied a word that made him snatch up
+the sheet of paper and rush to the light.
+
+The editor, it appeared, had read the story with genuine pleasure.
+Khalil Samad was an entirely new creation, presented with an
+originality and humor altogether delightful. The one fault of the
+story was its brevity. Of course, the magazine would accept it as it
+was, but the opinion of the office was to the effect that if the
+author had material for other stories of a similar nature it was a
+pity for him not to elaborate it into a book. A novel with Khalil
+Samad for a hero, if written with the same charm as this first story,
+would be an undoubted success. This was merely a suggestion, of
+course, and might not fall in with Mr. Morley's other literary plans.
+In any case the editor congratulated him upon the originality of his
+story and would look forward to publishing it in one form or the
+other.
+
+Donald read the note through twice before he mastered its contents,
+then he drew a prodigious breath. Other stories of a similar nature?
+Why, he knew dozens of them! Khalil Samad had been his sole companion
+for two months, and Khalil's chief occupation had been talking about
+himself and his escapades. Donald knew the main incidents of his
+dramatic career from the time he had been stolen by a Bengali bandit
+and sold into matrimony at the age of ten, to the day he had salaamed
+a tearful farewell from the dock at Bombay.
+
+Yes, most certainly, the writing of the novel _did_ fall in with
+Mr. Morley's literary plans. But what about his other plans? He caught
+himself up suddenly. How did he know what twenty-four hours might
+bring forth? What if, through some terrible error, he was not granted
+a new hearing? But Noah Wicker was confident. He had discovered a
+point in the former trial which was technically inadmissible. A
+witness had been permitted to make a statement over Mr. Gooch's
+objection, and Noah had succeeded in finding a previous decision that
+made him believe a reversal was practically certain.
+
+Somehow since his story was accepted, Donald found it much easier to
+share Noah's confidence. Waves of returning courage swept over him.
+Perhaps after all, he was going to be able to do something worth while
+in the world! He would work like a Trojan, he would begin to-night.
+
+He seized pen and paper, but the desire to share his good news
+prompted him to write letters rather than fiction. He wanted to tell
+Miss Lady, he wanted to tell the Doctor. He wanted to paralyze Cropsie
+Decker! Then he thought of Noah, and ramming the editor's note in his
+pocket, he went plunging down the steps and across to the hotel.
+
+Noah had gone to bed, but he was unceremoniously routed out.
+
+"Read that!" shouted Don, thrusting his hand in his pocket and pulling
+out an envelope.
+
+"It isn't opened," said Noah, yawning; then recognizing Connie
+Queerington's handwriting he suddenly woke up.
+
+"Hang it! That's the wrong one," said Donald, diving for the other
+note. "Here it is! Behold a budding author, Wick! I've written some
+stuff they say is worth while. They want more!"
+
+Noah read the note, then returned it calmly.
+
+"It's encouraging, I congratulate you," he observed laconically.
+
+Donald's face clouded, then cleared and he stepped forward
+impulsively:
+
+"See here, Wick," he said, "you think I'm poaching on your preserves.
+I'm not. That's the first letter I have had from Connie for weeks. I
+haven't written her a line since I left home, but she likes to keep me
+on the string. She just plays with Ivy and me to keep her hand in.
+Don't you mind either one of us. Stick to it and win."
+
+"Oh, I'm sticking to it all right," said Noah doggedly, "but I don't
+seem to stand much chance with the rest of you."
+
+"Nonsense, man! Think of your head-piece! The Lord started you out
+with more brains than most of us end with. The Judge said this morning
+that you knew more common law than any young lawyer he could think
+of."
+
+"Yes, but knowledge of common law won't win this suit. She'll never
+look at me, Donald, except as a last resort. She thinks I am a heavy,
+awkward hayseed, and I reckon she's about right."
+
+He towered there in his blue pajamas two sizes too small for him, his
+hair on end, and his large hands grasping the chair back. "I don't
+know the game," he went on helplessly. "You fellows take the trick
+while I am making up my mind what to play. She's too much for me. You
+are all too much for me, but I shan't throw down my hand, not yet."
+
+Donald got up from the foot of the bed where he had been sitting, and
+took Noah by the shoulders.
+
+"You've been working like a dog on my case, old fellow. Suppose you
+let me take charge of yours?"
+
+"How do you mean?"
+
+"You say you don't know the rules of the game. I know them backwards
+and forwards and upside down. You let me play this hand for you with
+Connie Queerington, and you stand to win."
+
+"But--but you?"
+
+"Heavens, man! Do you suppose if it were anything to me I'd have
+forgotten to read her letter all this time? No, I am through with that
+sort of thing." He turned his head abruptly and his face darkened.
+"There never was but one race for me, that was worth the running and I
+got left at the post."
+
+"Perhaps Miss Connie--"
+
+"Likes me? Of course she does. And I like her tremendously. That's how
+I am going to help you. Leave it to me, Wick. Let me write her all the
+letters I want to. Let me tell her about the stir you are making up
+here, about the Judge cottoning to you, and the Governor asking you to
+dinner. In short, let me dramatize you, Wick; I'll write her a play in
+five acts with you for the hero. All you have to do is to ease up on
+your letters and keep out of her sight for a month or so. Tell her
+that as long as you can't be anything more to her you will be a good
+friend. Connie hates a man to be a friend! She wants him to be either
+an acquaintance or a lover. You have gotten out of the first class,
+and she will never let you alone until she gets you back into the
+third."
+
+Noah rubbed his massive and bewildered brow. "It's too complicated for
+me," he said; "I guess I'll have to accept your services."
+
+That night Donald worked until the small hours, eagerly blocking out
+the chapters of his new book. So absorbed was he that it was not until
+he straightened his tired back, and started to make ready for bed that
+he remembered that he had not yet read Connie's letter.
+
+It was a blotted and incoherent scrawl.
+
+"Dear Cousin Don," he read, "I don't see how I am ever going to write,
+for my eyes are almost out from crying, but Miss Lady simply
+_can't_ do everything, and somebody has to tell the relatives.
+Hattie ought to help me, but she thinks she has to write to her
+intimate friends first, and she's got about a dozen. You know how
+hateful she is.
+
+"Well, he was taken worse last week, Father, I mean. I can't go into
+the details for I have told them over to so many people now that I'm
+about crazy, and every time I go over them I almost cry myself to
+death. He didn't know any of us all last night or this morning, except
+once he called for Miss Lady and patted her cheek. At the end he
+seemed to get stronger and opened his eyes and asked for his
+manuscript. It was the most pitiful thing you ever saw at the last, to
+see him trying to turn over the sheets, with his poor eyes staring out
+at the wall, not knowing any of us. You'll see about the funeral in
+the morning's paper. I don't see how we are ever going through with
+it.
+
+"Your loving cousin,
+
+"CONSTANCE QUEERINGTON.
+
+"P. S. Please tell Mr. Wicker--I'd rather die than write another
+letter."
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XXV
+
+
+The summer that followed the People's Bank failure was one of those
+uncompromising summers that arrive in May and depart only with the
+last leaf in October. The river dwindling to a feeble stream staggered
+between distant banks, and the countryside lay parched and panting
+beneath an unrelenting sun.
+
+In the city Noah Wicker toiled laboriously over his first case which
+had been granted a rehearing, and set for November the sixth. At the
+Capitol, Donald Morley sat day after day, coatless, collarless, in the
+torrid confines of his small bedroom, furiously covering reams of
+paper with compact handwriting. At Thornwood Miss Lady, who had been
+left in command of a sinking ship, struggled heroically to bring it
+into port.
+
+One day early in July, Myrtella Flathers sat just inside the screen
+door of the summer kitchen, armed with a fly-spanker and a countenance
+of impending gloom. She was evidently rehearsing a speech, for her
+lips moved in scornful curves, and her bristling black locks were
+tossed in defiance. Mike, venturing out of a shady corner and catching
+a glimpse of her face, thought her inaudible remarks were addressed to
+him and retired with guilty eyelid and drooping tail to the woodshed.
+
+Myrtella's bitter reflections were interrupted by the appearance of
+Miss Lady on the vine-covered porch. She looked absurdly young in her
+widow's weeds, in spite of the fact that her color was gone and her
+eyes beginning to look too big for her face.
+
+"They've come to stay a week!" she announced, sinking wearily on the
+top step and casting a desperate glance at the closed shutters of the
+guest room above. "And it's Friday, and Mr. Gooch will be here to
+supper. Do you see how we are ever going to hold out?"
+
+"_I_ ain't!" declared Myrtella, spanking a fly into eternity with
+deadly precision. "I'm sick and tired of company. There ain't been a
+day in the three months since the Doctor died that we ain't had his
+kin folks on our hands. It beats my time how half the world gits a
+prowlin' fit every summer, and goes pestering them that stays at home.
+As to these old maids that come to-day, if they had a eye in their
+heads they'd see you was plumb wore out. I wouldn't 'a' ast 'em to
+stay."
+
+"But I had to. They are the Doctor's cousins. They said they'd been
+coming to see him every summer for years, and they don't want to lose
+sight of the children."
+
+"Umph! The children wouldn't mind losing sight of them! Miss Hattie
+got sent to bed onct for sassing the thin one that wants special
+dishes and all her water boiled. I bet she'll ast you to change her
+mattress."
+
+"She has already. That's what I came out to tell you, and she wants
+her supper an hour earlier than ours. But that isn't what's troubling
+me, Myrtella, I have something much more serious than Cousin Emily to
+worry over."
+
+"You ain't no exception," said Myrtella, somewhat defensively.
+"Trouble is about the only thing that rich people ain't got a monopoly
+on. I've had my share; it's a wonder I got a black hair left in my
+head!"
+
+"Has your brother lost his good place?" Miss Lady asked.
+
+"Phineas? No, mam. He's been at Iselin's ever since he left Mrs.
+Sequin's, an' to hear him tell it he's runnin' the whole
+'stablishment. I must say he's doin' better 'n he ever done before,
+but he's as full of airs as a music-box, an' that there Maria, a
+paternizing me like I hadn't been payin' her rent all these years. But
+I kin get along without them. It's little Chick I'm a worryin' about."
+
+"What's the matter with Chick?"
+
+"Matter with him?" Myrtella turned on her fiercely. "Ever' thing is
+the matter with him. What chanct has he got in the world? Picked out
+of a ash-barrel, livin' in dirt an' ignorance, drinkin' the beer that
+leaks outen the kegs on the freight cars, hangin' 'round the saloons
+an' gittin' runtier an' dumber an' more pitifuller every day he lives.
+My Lord! Ain't that enough the matter with him?"
+
+Miss Lady's quick, eager sympathy leapt into her face.
+
+"We must do something for Chick. Dr. Wyeth believes he can cure him if
+they can ever get him into the Children's Hospital. Why can't we--"
+she checked herself, and sat looking off to the hills across the
+river.
+
+"Myrtella, I've got to tell you something," she began again
+desperately, "I've been trying to tell you all day, but I didn't know
+how. You have been so good to us, all through the Doctor's illness,
+and before. But I'm afraid after this month we'll have to let you go."
+
+Myrtella had been threatening to give notice for a month, but at this
+announcement she looked as if she had been the victim of an
+unsuccessful electrocution.
+
+"It's a question of money," went on Miss Lady hurriedly. "You see we
+simply haven't any. I've kept account of every cent that comes in and
+goes out, just as Mr. Gooch told me to; but it doesn't balance. We'll
+just have to keep on cutting down expenses until it does."
+
+"An' you are going to begin on me," said Myrtella furiously, "an' git
+in some onery nigger that'll carry home more in a basket than my wages
+would come to!"
+
+"No, Myrtella; we are going to try to do the work ourselves."
+
+"You mean _you_ are! An' Miss Connie'll primp herself up an' go
+hiking into town after beaux, an' Miss Hattie'll set around with her
+nose in a book, an' you'll go on workin' an' slavin' an' wearin'
+yourself to the bone fer them, an' their tribe of prowlin' kin.
+Where's the money you got for this farm?"
+
+"It went to pay the debts and to carry out the Doctor's wishes."
+
+"'Bout printin' all them books he wrote over again, an' bringin' 'em
+out in the same kind of covers?"
+
+"Yes."
+
+"How many was there, in all?"
+
+"Twenty."
+
+Myrtella compressed her lips, and with difficulty refrained from
+comment. However freely the Doctor's will had been discussed in
+public, no criticism of it was brooked in the presence of Miss Lady.
+
+"As to your leaving," she said, changing the subject, while Myrtella
+vented her wrath on the flies, "you know you have wanted to go for
+months. It was only your goodness that made you come out here with us
+after you had saved money enough to start your boarding-house. We
+haven't been paying you enough, I know that, and--and we haven't
+enough to go on even as we are."
+
+Myrtella wheeled in the doorway, her face purple with anger:
+
+"If you think I'm a-goin' an' leave you children in this big house,
+messin' up yer own food, an' lettin' everybody run over you, you are
+mighty mistaken! Miss Hattie 'd be having indigestion inside a week,
+an' Bertie 'd git the croup, an' you'd have every female Queerington
+that could buy a railroad ticket comin' an' settin' down on you!"
+
+"But what can we do, Myrtella? I tell you the money is giving out!"
+
+"Do? I'll tell you what we can do. We can board the company! We can
+fill up the rooms with folks that pay for what they eat, an' there
+won't be any room for the free prowlers. You git the boarders an' I'll
+manage 'em."
+
+"Why, Mrs. Ivy and Gerald wanted to come that way, but I laughed at
+them. Besides I don't know about Gerald--"
+
+"On account of Miss Connie?" asked Myrtella, who had been too much in
+charge of the family not to know its secrets. "You let him come. He's
+one of them men that's like vanilla extract--you git too much of him
+onct, you never want no more!"
+
+"And perhaps Mr. Gooch would come."
+
+"Well it would go kinder hard with him to pay fer anything he's always
+got free. But git Miss Hattie to ast him. He'd do it fer her quicker'n
+anybody."
+
+The project, under Myrtella's able generalship, developed immediately.
+Mr. Gooch and the Ivys gladly availed themselves of the opportunity of
+fleeing from the stifling city to the cool shade of Thornwood. Two
+former pupils of the Doctor's, who were taking a summer course at the
+university, also asked if they might have a room, and at the end of a
+week paying guests were in possession and the family relegated to any
+nook or corner that was large enough to accommodate a bed.
+
+One problem was unexpectedly solved by the appearance of Uncle
+Jimpson, who announced that "he had done come back home to stay." The
+distinction of driving forth daily in solitary grandeur to exercise
+the Sequins' horses, had palled upon him, and the prospect of
+conducting the Queerington boarders back and forth to the station, and
+renewing his intimacy with old John and Mike, had proven irresistible.
+
+Aunt Caroline had died in the early spring, and Uncle Jimpson found
+even the society of Myrtella a relief after his enforced loneliness.
+He listened with bulging eyes and sagging jaw to her accounts of the
+latest murders and obeyed her slightest command with a briskness that
+would have amazed the old Colonel.
+
+"We's helpin' Miss Lady git a start," he would say proudly again and
+again, "an' then maybe she git married some more."
+
+"Married!" Myrtella would flare, "yes, she orter git married to
+another widower with three children, and a thousand kin folks.
+Besides, who's she going to marry?"
+
+"Ain't no trouble 'bout dat," Uncle Jimpson said wisely; "you jes' let
+her peek over de blinds onct, an' you see what gwine happen."
+
+"Well, she ain't going to peek," Myrtella said firmly. "She ain't got
+a thought in her head, but gittin' Miss Hattie an' Bertie educated,
+an' keepin' Miss Connie straight, an' carryin' out that fool will of
+the Doctor's."
+
+"Jest wait," Uncle Jimpson smilingly insisted, "dat chile can't no
+more help 'cumulatin' beaux dan a flower kin bees. An' hits de king
+bee dat's comin' dis time, shore!"
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XXVI
+
+
+"Where's Connie? Where's Hat?" cried Miss Lady breathlessly, bringing
+her foam-flecked horse to a halt in front of the porch where Mrs. Ivy
+was sitting in the twilight. "Don Morley has written a book and it's
+going to be published this month!"
+
+"A book!" echoed Mrs. Ivy incredulously, then,
+
+"Ah, my dear, do get off that vicious beast; I haven't had a moment's
+peace since Mr. Wicker sent him over!"
+
+Miss Lady slipped to the ground and stood with her arm around Prince's
+neck, laughing. The thrill of her long ride, the first one in nearly
+two years, still surged through her, and the news just received made
+her heart dance for joy. Happiness, in spite of her efforts not to
+expect it, was beginning to shine across the troubled waters, a dim
+and wavering light as yet, but drawing her toward it with irresistible
+fascination. It was something to steer by in times of stress and
+storm, something to turn to tremulously, in the lonely hours of the
+night, when over-taxed muscles refused to relax and her tired brain
+ached with the pity and sorrow of the world.
+
+During her long ride this afternoon she had dared for the first time
+to give rein to thoughts that had hitherto been held in check. Surely
+life was more than the dreary, monotonous, loveless business of the
+past summer! With all its problems and perplexities, it was
+nevertheless a mysterious, fascinating thing. She did not approve of
+it, nor did she altogether trust it, but she was incorrigibly in love
+with it--and would be to the end.
+
+"I suppose you know that supper is over," said Mrs. Ivy, with veiled
+reproach. "Were there no letters for me?"
+
+"Oh, dear, how stupid of me. I forgot to look through the rest of the
+mail. Here it is."
+
+Mrs. Ivy sorted out her own official-looking budget, then peered
+closely at the two remaining envelopes.
+
+"As I suspected," she said with a significant lifting of her eyebrows;
+"two for Constance, in the same handwriting and both postmarked from
+the Capitol."
+
+"But what of it, Mrs. Ivy?"
+
+"My _dear_," Mrs. Ivy breathed, "don't you see they are from Mr.
+Morley?"
+
+"Yes; but I have one from him, too; he's telling us about his book."
+
+Mrs. Ivy smiled with sad superiority, "Ah, my dear, you are not a very
+sophisticated little chaperon. I have hesitated to speak to you
+before, but I really think this young man's attention to Constance
+should be stopped. It isn't fair to poor Gerald. You know how she has
+always adored my boy, ever since she was in pinafores, and I don't
+mind confessing to you that I've encouraged her. Of course Gerald's
+artistic temperament has made him susceptible to many forms of beauty,
+but he has really been quite devoted of late. I simply can not endure
+the thought of that Mr. Morley interfering with the blossoming of
+their childhood love."
+
+"But Mrs. Ivy, he--he is her cousin; he looks upon her as a child."
+
+"She is only a year younger than you are, my dear, and much more
+worldly wise. I've had my eyes open and I've seen a great deal. She is
+getting quite secretive, and she isn't always gracious to Gerald. Mr.
+Morley's back of it all, you 'II see."
+
+"I don't think there is any danger," said Miss Lady critically
+examining the tip of Prince's nose.
+
+"Ah, my dear girl, you have been too engrossed for the past six months
+to notice. Ask Mr. Wicker; he spoke to Gerald about it last spring.
+Ask Gerald himself, he's wretchedly unhappy. And now you are helping
+her to get ready to go up to the Capitol to visit, and he's sure to
+see her every day. I must say that I think it's wretched taste for him
+to pay attentions to any girl under the circumstances."
+
+In an instant Miss Lady had wheeled with flashing eyes:
+
+"Donald's friends know that he hasn't done anything to be ashamed of!
+I don't believe he thinks of Connie in the way you mean, but if he
+does she has every reason to be proud of it!"
+
+And without waiting for an answer she drew the bridle over her arm and
+tramped indignantly off to the stable.
+
+Mrs. Ivy sighed, then turned to join Mr. Gooch who had just come out
+on the porch.
+
+"Has it ever occurred to you," she said as if enunciating a hitherto
+unuttered truth, "how reluctant youth is to learn of age? This dear
+little widow that the good Doctor left to our care, is making some
+grave mistakes."
+
+"I think she does fairly well," said Mr. Gooch, settling himself
+comfortably; "the beef is not always good, but the fowls and the
+vegetables are ex-excellent."
+
+Mr. Gooch spoke with unusual warmth. Myrtella's cooking, together with
+Miss Lady's graciousness, and the sharp proprietorship that Hattie had
+assumed over him, were working a miracle. Even now as the sounds of
+music and laughter came forth from the living-room, he paused to
+listen. He was surprised to find that "Molly Darlings," and "Nellie
+Grays," and other musical girls he'd left behind him, still haunted
+the dim corridors of his argumentative mind, and gave him little
+thrills of pleasure.
+
+"Ah," purred Mrs. Ivy, continuing the conversation. "Far be it from me
+to criticize her. It is against my principles to entertain a critical
+attitude toward any one. Besides, I quite adore the dear child. I
+consider her a precious gift to a grateful world. But you must
+acknowledge, Mr. Gooch, that with all her sweetness, she doesn't
+always allow herself to be guided."
+
+"Good Lord, no," said Mr. Gooch testily.
+
+"She'll look you straight in the eye and smile, while you are advising
+her, then go straight off and do as she pleases. This matter of the
+Doctor's will, for instance. I spent two days arguing with her about
+the futility of publishing two dozen volumes that nobody will ever
+read."
+
+"But that was his dying request, Mr. Gooch. Only one who has loved and
+lost can know the nature of that obligation." Mr. Gooch sniffed
+impatiently. Conjugal felicity was a subject that irritated him in
+every fiber.
+
+"Then her charities," he went on crustily; "she's got no money to be
+throwing away, yet every family on Billy-goat Hill comes to her when
+it gets into trouble."
+
+"Yes, and she doesn't hesitate to sit down in those dreadful hovels,
+and take those unclean babies in her arms. It has made me frightfully
+nervous since we came here. Gerald is so sensitive to germs."
+
+"What is this latest tomfoolery about a kindergarten?"
+
+"Why, she has actually gotten Mrs. Bartrum and Mrs. Horton, and some
+of those other society women, to rent the hall over the grocery where
+the Cant-Pass-It Saloon used to be. They are going to open a
+kindergarten and Margery Sequin is coming home from Europe to take
+charge of it. I am afraid the project is built upon the sands. There
+is not a church member on the board!"
+
+"Well, they needn't come to me for a contribution," said Mr. Gooch. "I
+don't believe in kindergartens."
+
+While this conversation was taking place, quite a different one was in
+progress, on the up-stairs side porch which had been converted into a
+summer bedroom for Miss Lady and Bertie.
+
+"Do you 'spose," Bert was saying sleepily, "that God 'ud give me a
+horn 'stead of a harp when I get to heaven, if I ask him to?"
+
+"I know He will, Bert. Take off your other shoe."
+
+"Why didn't He give Chick something to say?"
+
+"He did, but Chick's throat won't let the words come through. Step out
+of your clothes now, hurry up, Buddikin!"
+
+But Bert's feet were firmly planted, and his sleepy eyes fixed in
+philosophic musings:
+
+"If He had all kinds of throats I don't see why He didn't give Chick a
+good one."
+
+This required elucidation, and Miss Lady attempted to make the matter
+clear while extricating the small boy from his clothes.
+
+"Ain't you going to tell me a story?"
+
+"Not to-night, Bert. I'm so tired; all the stories have run out."
+
+Bert crawled into his bed silently, and lay watching the shadows in
+the big tree outside.
+
+"I wish Cousin Don was here," he sighed. "He never does run out of
+stories. When is he coming back?"
+
+"I don't know, dear. Shut your eyes now, and go to sleep."
+
+He shut his eyes obediently, but continued the conversation drowsily,
+
+"He knows all about whales and tigers, and big ships and elephants.
+He's--been--clear--around--the--earth--"
+
+But the Sandman had conquered, and Miss Lady, having slipped on a
+dressing-gown and loosened her hair, tiptoed to the far end of the
+porch and sitting on the railing gazed fixedly out into the gathering
+darkness. For half an hour the dim enchantments of twilight had been
+abroad, transforming hill and valley, and merging heaven and earth in
+a tender, elusive atmosphere of dreams. But her absorbed, white face,
+and tense hands locked about her knees, showed that she was not
+concerned with the beauty of the evening.
+
+Mrs. Ivy's words had kindled a bonfire, by the light of which recent
+events leapt into view. Connie had been secretive, not only about her
+letters but about her engagements as well. She was growing daily more
+indifferent to Gerald Ivy, and developing a taste for reading that had
+been the cause of much surmising and teasing on the part of the
+household.
+
+Twice during the summer Donald had come to Thornwood, and on both
+occasions Miss Lady had been seized with an unreasoning fear, not only
+of him, but of herself. She had received him under the depressing
+chaperonage of Mr. Gooch and Mrs. Ivy, and she remembered now how
+Connie had taken possession of him on both occasions. But even if
+Connie's transitory affections were temporarily engaged, surely Donald
+was not encouraging her!
+
+A low whistle from the path below made her look down. It was Connie
+and she was stepping very cautiously as if trying to elude somebody.
+
+"Miss Lady!" she called softly. "Aren't you coming down again?"
+
+"No, I'm going to bed."
+
+"Don't go yet. I'm coming up. I want to tell you something."
+
+A moment later Connie opened the door, and closed it carefully behind
+her.
+
+"Is Bertie asleep?"
+
+"Yes."
+
+"It's all over!" she announced tragically. "Gerald and I have had an
+awful quarrel, and he swears he'll never live to see another dawn."
+
+"Of course he won't, I doubt if he has ever seen one. What's his
+trouble?"
+
+"Everything! He wants me to sit at his feet every hour in the day and
+adore him, and how can I adore a man who is afraid of a bumblebee, and
+can't drive, and sleeps with an umbrella over his head to shut out the
+light? I just simply can't stand him another minute!"
+
+"But, Connie, you were so crazy about him, you wouldn't listen to a
+word against him."
+
+"I know it. I've been a perfect little idiot." Connie was sobbing now
+on Miss Lady's shoulder. "The first time I saw him he'd just gotten
+home from Europe. He was playing at a concert. Everybody said he was a
+genius, and his eyes were so wonderful, and I had never seen anybody
+like him. The more he snubbed me the crazier I got about him. It
+wasn't until Cousin Don came back that I saw him as he really is."
+
+Miss Lady patted the heaving shoulders, but said nothing.
+
+"And the very minute," Connie continued tempestuously, "that I began
+to feel differently, Gerald began to like me. He has worked himself up
+to a terrible pitch, and doesn't want me out of his sight for a
+minute. I feel as if I'd been living on chocolate creams for three
+months!"
+
+"Connie!" Miss Lady took the tear-stained face between her hands. "I'm
+glad it isn't Gerald. I'm glad from the bottom of my heart, but are
+you sure it isn't somebody else?"
+
+Connie's blue eyes, never very steadfast, shifted uneasily, and Miss
+Lady went on earnestly:
+
+"Are you quite sure you aren't doing just what you did before, getting
+infatuated, and making yourself miserable over some one who doesn't
+care for you?"
+
+"But he does!" burst out Connie indignantly; "he cares for me more
+than for anybody in the world!"
+
+"How do you know?"
+
+"He's told me so! There--I oughtn't to have told! I swore I wouldn't
+until after the trial. But you won't breathe it, Miss Lady? Promise
+you won't even ask me to tell you anything more?"
+
+Miss Lady looked at her strangely.
+
+"I know everybody is going to disapprove," Connie went on recklessly,
+"and say horrid things about him. But I don't care if you will just
+stand by me. And you will, won't you?"
+
+Twice Miss Lady tried to speak before the words would come, then:
+
+"Yes," she whispered almost breathlessly, "yes, I promise to stand by
+you,--and by him."
+
+After Connie had gone she went back to her seat on the railing and
+stared out into the gathering night. For the first time in her life
+the dark immensity terrified her. The beacon lights by which she had
+steered were no longer visible. The great lonely sea of life lay about
+her, and she had lost her course.
+
+"Daddy!" she whispered in terror, "Daddy help me!"
+
+But only the faint cry of a whippoorwill in the valley below answered
+her call. A trembling seized her and feeling her way to the bed where
+Bertie lay, she crept in beside him, cuddling the soft, warm little
+body close, and checking her sobs that they might not wake him. Long
+after the whippoorwill had ceased its plaint, she lay there staring
+into the darkness, waiting for the dawn.
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XXVII
+
+
+The autumn sun struggled palely through the windows of the Children's
+Hospital, and sent a beam across the high narrow bed where Chick
+Flathers lay, suspiciously watching the proceedings of the attendant
+nurses. He was not at all sure that he had done right in coming. For
+two days he had been made to stay in bed, and this morning he had
+suffered his third bath and been deprived of his breakfast. His being
+there at all was merely a concession to friendship. Mis' Queerington
+had persuaded him. He wouldn't have come for the Other One, the fat
+one who smiled and talked about The Willows Awful Home. He wouldn't
+even come for Aunt 'Telia, but Mis' Queerington was different; she
+understood fellows. She had said that the doctors would fix his throat
+so that he could yell louder than any boy on Billy-goat Hill! All the
+suppressed yells of a dozen years quivered on his lips at the thought
+of it! "Chick, here's a orange and some cookies I brought you." It was
+Aunt 'Telia who sat down by the bed and took his hand. "If you ever
+get well Aunt 'Tella's going to take you to the circus, or the
+seashore, or somewheres."
+
+The seashore presented no concrete idea, so Chick preferred to dwell
+upon the circus, but even that alluring prospect could not hold his
+attention while so many disturbing things were taking place about him.
+One nurse had felt his pulse, another had put a glass tube in his
+mouth, and now a third was wheeling in a curious little bed on wheels.
+
+He turned restlessly from the black-browed, anxious face bending over
+him to the door where Mrs. Queerington was entering. But he knew by
+experience that it would be some time before she reached him. All
+those other sick duffers would want her to talk to them, and the
+nurses would stop her, and the young house-doctor would claim a flower
+for his buttonhole. Chick hated them all indiscriminately. It seemed
+an hour before her bright, reassuring face bent over him, and he heard
+her say:
+
+"It won't be long, now, Chicky Boy. Dr. Wyeth will be here soon, and
+they will give you a ride on this funny little wagon. I wonder what
+Skeeter Sheeley is doing about this time? Going to school, I expect."
+
+This diverted Chick marvelously. The thought of Skeeter having to
+spend the morning in the schoolroom, made his own lot less hard.
+
+"Is Number Seventeen prepared for the operation?" he heard some one
+ask, and at the same moment Aunt 'Tella's fingers closed on his like a
+vise.
+
+Then the big doctor, who had brought him there, appeared at the foot
+of his bed.
+
+"Ah, Mrs. Queerington!" he was saying, "the very sight of you ought to
+hearten up these youngsters. But you are still paler than I like to
+see you. Been overdoing again?"
+
+She shook her head. "I'm all right, but what about your patient?"
+
+The doctor stroked his chin and appeared to be interested in the
+ceiling. "Some rather grave complications. Very anemic. Very little to
+work on. Possibly an even chance. However--" he shrugged his broad
+shoulders. "Has he any people?"
+
+"No, except this foster-aunt who supports him. Myrtella!"
+
+But Myrtella had turned her back at sight of the doctor, and refused
+to look up.
+
+Chick narrowly watching the two speakers at the foot of the bed, and
+trying vainly to understand what they were saying about him, was
+relieved when Dr. Wyeth handed Miss Lady a book and said lightly:
+
+"You see that I, like everybody else, have fallen a victim to 'Khalil
+Samad.' I understand it is already in its tenth edition. Young Morley
+has a career before him, if he gets through this trial. Do you know
+when it is set for?"
+
+"November the sixth."
+
+"So soon as that? Well, I don't know the young man, but I hope he'll
+be cleared. I want him to write some more books for me to read. I'm
+sorry Kinner has charge of the prosecution. He'd rather convict an
+innocent man than a guilty one. All right, my boy, I guess we are
+ready."
+
+"Don't try to get up!" admonished the nurse to Chick; "I'll lift you
+over."
+
+But Chick scorned assistance. Hadn't he only last week valiantly
+bucked the center in a football game between the Bean Alley Busters,
+and the Shanty Boat Bums, and, covered with mud and blood and glory,
+been carried from the field? They needn't think because he was little
+and thin and couldn't talk that he was a baby! He got himself on to
+the wheeled stretcher, but refused to lie down.
+
+"Let him sit up then," said Mrs. Queerington. "He likes to see where
+he is going, don't you, Chick? Here goes our automobile! Honk! Honk!"
+
+The nurse wheeled him through the tall, gloomy halls, while Myrtella
+shambled at one side, clinging to his hand, and wiping her eyes. Miss
+Lady flitted along on the other, telling him about the new football
+that was going to be on his bed when he woke up.
+
+Then they halted, and Myrtella bent over him wildly. "Chick!" she
+cried, her face suddenly contorted, "look at me just once more! Tell
+me you fergive me, Chicky! Oh, if they kill you--!"
+
+The stretcher was shoved hastily into the elevator and the door closed
+on everybody but Chick and the nurse and the orderly.
+
+It was about that time that Chick decided to lie down. Where were they
+taking him? What were they going to do with him? What did Aunt 'Tella
+mean by those strange words? Where had Mis' Squeerington gone? With
+sudden quaking terror he looked at the nurse and broke into hoarse
+interrogatory sounds.
+
+"Here we are!" she cried soothingly, as the elevator came to a halt.
+"And here's Dr. Wyeth waiting for us."
+
+"Well, my little man," said the large figure in white, taking a small
+cold hand in his large strong one, "we are going to put you to sleep
+and when you wake up, it will be all over. You are pretty game, aren't
+you?"
+
+Chick, trying very hard to keep his knees from shaking the sheet,
+nodded emphatically.
+
+"I thought so," lied the doctor cheerfully, looking into the terror-
+stricken eyes. "I can almost always tell when a fellow's made out of
+the right sort of stuff. You don't wear false teeth, do you?"
+
+Chick's sudden, toothless smile revealed the futility of this
+question.
+
+"That's good. No danger of your swallowing them. Now suppose you put
+this funnel over your mouth and take a big breath. That's right!
+Another one! That's right, once more!"
+
+Chick felt a hot, sweet air rush into his throat, and began to choke.
+But the doctor's voice kept saying insistently, "Once more!" "Once
+more, my boy!" And the doctor thought he was game.
+
+He shut his eyes and tried not to be afraid, but fearful things were
+happening! His skin was leaving his body; and he was going up in the
+air; lights danced before his eyes and he was suddenly in a terrible
+hurry about something. He had never been in such a hurry before! He
+was leaving doctors and nurses far below, he could hear their voices
+growing fainter every moment. Then suddenly the lights began to dance
+again, and the hurry came back, and all the breath was being squeezed
+out of him. No, he couldn't be game any longer! He must fight!
+Savagely, blindly, dumbly he struggled against this awful unknown
+thing that was mastering him. Then, after a last agonizing effort he
+sank helplessly into the abyss of sleep.
+
+Meanwhile, on the floor below, sitting on the cold bare steps beside
+the door of the elevator, two white-faced women waited anxiously. All
+was silent in the high, narrow corridor except for the footsteps of
+passing nurses, and the occasional sharp cry of pain, or groan of
+weariness from some suffering patient.
+
+"That's him!" cried Myrtella hysterically as one of these cries
+reached her.
+
+"No, no. He is sound asleep by this time. He won't know anything until
+it is all over." Then as another cry brought Myrtella to her feet,
+Miss Lady added, "Please, Myrtella, don't be so frightened. Those
+cries come from the floor below."
+
+Myrtella shook off her hand impatiently. "How long have they been
+gone? Why didn't you tell me they was going to keep him hours and
+hours?"
+
+"It's only been twenty minutes. I know how anxious you are, but you
+must try to be calm. If you aren't they won't let you go in the room
+when they bring him down."
+
+"Won't let me in the room!" Myrtella's face blazed with anger. "I'd
+like to see 'em stop me! Who's got a better right? The doctor? The
+nurse? You? There ain't none of you got the right to him I have. Ain't
+I his mother?"
+
+Miss Lady looked at her with amazement, and shrank instinctively from
+the desperate, defiant woman.
+
+"That's right!" cried Myrtella, almost beside herself. "Snatch your
+hand off my arm, shrink away from me like I was a leper! Tell
+everybody, tell the police that I throwed my baby in the ash barrel
+and abandoned it! It don't make no difference now, nothin' makes no
+difference but Chick. Oh, my God! How long have they been?"
+
+"They will be down very soon now, Myrtella. Don't tear your
+handkerchief like that. Here, take mine."
+
+But Myrtella's eyes were too full of terror for tears; she sat with
+her hands locked about her knees swaying to and fro.
+
+"I've never told nobody," she went on wildly; "all these years I've
+kept it bottled up in my soul 'til it's eat it plumb out. I never done
+it to Chick! He wasn't Chick then. He was just somethin' that belonged
+to a devil. Then he growed to be Chick, and all my hate turned to
+love, and now God's gittin' even, I knowed He would! He wouldn't let
+him live now, just to spite me!"
+
+"Myrtella!" Miss Lady's voice commanded indignantly. "Don't you dare
+say such things! Who knows but this very minute God's giving Chick
+back to you? Perhaps He is taking this way of showing you He forgives
+you. Pray to Him, Myrtella! Ask Him to do what's best for Chick,
+whatever it may be."
+
+Myrtella's head had sunken on her knees, and her coarse, work-hardened
+hands were clinging to Miss Lady's slender ones.
+
+Suddenly they both started. The elevator descended creakingly and
+halted beside them. There was a shuffling of feet and the stretcher
+was wheeled past with a small, white-sheeted form lying motionless
+upon it.
+
+"It's all over," said Dr. Wyeth, following briskly. "He put up a
+pretty stiff fight while taking the anesthetic, but we downed him at
+last. The conditions were less serious than I anticipated. With care
+and good nursing he ought to get well right away now. Hello! Here's
+another patient!"
+
+For Myrtella, glaring at him through her steel-rimmed spectacles, had
+dropped like a log straight across the corridor and lay unconscious
+with her fly-away hat crushed under one ear.
+
+"Loosen her collar," directed Dr. Wyeth, "and bring me some ice water.
+There! She'll come around in a minute."
+
+He knelt beside her with his hand on her pulse, looking at her
+curiously. Then he turned to Miss Lady:
+
+"Queer how faces come back to you. I attended this woman twelve years
+ago, when I was interne in the maternity ward at the City Hospital."
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XXVIII
+
+
+As the sixth of November approached, Donald Morley's friends for the
+first time became seriously apprehensive over the result of his final
+trial. The fact that he had engaged an unknown, inexperienced lawyer
+to cope with the redoubtable Kinner, was looked upon as his crowning
+folly. The case, which had always excited considerable local interest
+on account of the prominence of the families involved, now became a
+matter of much graver significance, concerning, as it did, the author
+of "Khalil Samad," the most talked-about book of the hour.
+
+Miss Lady, alone at Thornwood now, except for Bertie and Myrtella,
+fought through the days as best she could. Since Connie's confession
+she had seen little of her, for after a round of visits in the Blue
+Grass region, that restless young person had been with friends in
+town, and was still there when the date set for the trial arrived.
+
+Up to this time Miss Lady had conquered in the hourly struggle she was
+making with her own heart. Again and again Donald had tried to see
+her, but on one pretext or another she had evaded him. She was
+puzzled, bewildered, and hopelessly wretched, and she asked herself
+repeatedly why her happiness should be sacrificed for that of a
+shallow, irresponsible butterfly. For Donald, she had no blame, he had
+drifted into this affair with Connie when his need was greatest, and
+now that his honor was involved as well as hers, there must be no
+turning back.
+
+But when the second day of the trial dawned, and she came down after a
+sleepless night to read discouraging news reports of the previous
+day's proceedings, she found that something stronger than herself was
+taking possession of her. In vain did she try to fulfil her accustomed
+tasks. Every atom of her was there in the courthouse beside Donald
+Morley, standing trial with him. Twice she flung on her coat and hat,
+only to take them off again, and stand at the window impatiently
+watching the storm.
+
+For the long summer had finally come to an end. After days of radiant
+October sunshine, when winter seemed, like the hereafter, vague and
+far off, a wind came rushing out of the north, stripping the trees in
+a single night, and leaving them surprised at their sudden nakedness.
+Then the sleet came, and, not content with attacking trees and shrubs,
+must storm the house itself, invading windows and doors, besieging
+every nook and corner, only to waste away at last into icy streams
+that went rattling noisily down the gutters.
+
+As the morning wore on Miss Lady grew more and more restless. Suppose
+the preposterous should happen, and for the second time twelve honest
+men should pronounce an innocent man guilty? Could Connie face the
+ignominy of the verdict? Would her fickle, inconstant heart steady to
+such a test? Suppose that once again the person on whom Donald Morley
+depended, should fail him in a supreme hour?
+
+For the third time Miss Lady threw on her wraps. She could no longer
+stand the suspense, she must go to him, in case he needed her.
+
+"'Fore de Lawd!" exclaimed Uncle Jimpson when her intention was made
+known to him. "I dunno what ole John'll think of us, takin' him to de
+station a day lak dis! 'Sides de noon train's done went."
+
+"Then we'll have to drive to town. Hitch up as quickly as you can!"
+
+"But, Miss Lady, Honey, you fergit de sleet! Ole John 'ud slide 'round
+de road lak a fly on a bald spot."
+
+"No matter! I'm going. Hurry!"
+
+Myrtella, who was fashioning a dough man, under the personal
+supervision of Bert, looked up indignantly:
+
+"You don't think you are going out in this storm without no lunch, do
+you?"
+
+"I can't eat anything, I'm not hungry."
+
+"That's what you said at breakfast. I ain't got a bit of patience with
+people that get theirselves sick in bed and be a nuisance to
+everybody, just for the pleasure of slopping around in the slush on a
+day like this. I'm going to fix you some toast and a egg, while he's
+hitchin' up."
+
+"Go on with the story, 'Telia," demanded Bertie, carefully bestowing a
+nose on the dough man.
+
+"Well," resumed Myrtella, from the stove, casting an anxious glance at
+Miss Lady who stood at the window impatiently tapping the pane,
+"everbody was a wonderin' what would be his very first words, an' Dr.
+Wyeth he sez, 'Don't pester him to talk, jes' let it come natural.'
+One day me an' the nurse, the stuck-up one I was tellin' you 'bout,
+was fixin' to spray out his throat, an' he look so curious at all the
+little rubber tubes, an' fixin's, that she sez, 'You'll know a lot
+when you leave here, Chick.' And what do you think he up an' answered?
+Just as smart an' plain as if he'd a been talkin' all his life?"
+
+"What?" demanded Bertie as breathlessly as if he hadn't heard the
+story a dozen times.
+
+"'Shucks', sez Chick, 'I knowed a lot when I come!'" Myrtella's pride
+in this first articulation of her offspring was so great that it
+rendered her oblivious to the fact that the toast was scorching.
+
+"When will you be able to bring Chick home?" asked Miss Lady, gulping
+down the hot tea with a watchful eye on the stable door.
+
+"Jes' as soon as the doctor quits foolin' with his throat every day.
+He's been gittin' on fine ever' since I took him back to Phineas'.
+Maria's gittin' right stuck on him, now she's got to give him up. Says
+she always knowed he was smart, but she never dreamed of the things he
+had bottled up in his head."
+
+"I haven't forgotten about your house," said Miss Lady absently. "Dr.
+Wyeth knows a nice place down on Chestnut Street, and says you can
+make a good living letting the rooms to shop girls. It isn't right for
+me to keep you out here any longer."
+
+"Well, I ain't goin' 'til spring." Myrtella rattled the pans with
+unnecessary vehemence. "Me an' Chick's goin' to stay right here 'til
+we git you settled. Now that Mr. Gooch has got a spell of spendin',
+an' is sendin' Miss Hattie to college, I guess she's settled fer a
+spell. Like as not Miss Connie'll be marryin' some smart-alecky, good-
+fer-nothin' fellow, then she'll be settled. But what's goin' to become
+of you and Bertie?"
+
+Miss Lady leaned impulsively over the child's back as he knelt in a
+chair beside the table, and kissed the bit of neck that showed between
+the collar and the curls: "Bert and I?" she repeated with a little
+catch in her voice; "why, we'll have to take care of each other, won't
+we, Bert?"
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XXIX
+
+
+The Flathers' family was indulging in a birthday party. The table, set
+in the bedroom so that Chick might participate, was decorated at one
+end by a gorgeous pink cake, bearing a single candle, and at the other
+by Loreny herself, blue of eye, and chubby of cheek, who crawled
+triumphantly about among the dishes, bestowing equal attention on the
+sugar bowl and the molasses jug, only pausing to emit ecstatic screams
+when a rough, red head appeared above the table rim.
+
+In the bed, propped on pillows and with throat bandaged, Chick
+executed a lively tune with knife and fork on his plate, while Maria
+Flathers dedicated herself to the task of preventing Loreny May from
+putting her blue-slippered foot in the butter.
+
+Without, the sleet pelted the windows, and the red top of Mr.
+Iseling's wagon waiting at the gate. It whistled and rattled down Bean
+Alley and converted the telegraph wires into cables of ice. But the
+Flathers family, luxuriating in the unusual extravagance of an open
+fire, and cheered by the hilarity of the occasion, was happily
+oblivious to the storm until a sharp rap at the door brought the
+redheaded bear from under the table to answer the summons.
+
+"Well, if it ain't Mis' Squeerington!" cried Phineas Flathers
+effusively. "Out in all this storm! But I ain't surprised. Didn't I
+tell you, Maria, that I knowed she'd bring the baby a birthday
+present? Come up to the fire, mam. Maria git her a rocker."
+
+"No, no!" cried Miss Lady breathlessly. "I can't stay. I must get to
+town. My horse broke down in the bridge, and I'm on my way to the
+Junction to see if I can't get on the next train when it stops for
+water. I want you to go over and help me on."
+
+"Next train don't stop. It's a express. The local ain't due fer a hour
+an' a half. You ain't fit to go on yit, mam, nohow. I never seen you
+all in like this before! Maria, can't you fix her up a cup of coffee
+or somethin'?"
+
+Miss Lady shook her head, and leaned wearily against the mantel.
+
+"I'll be all right. Are you sure about the trains?"
+
+"Sure az the taxes. You're in fer a wait, an' we'll git a nice little
+visit out of you. Guess you are 'sprised to see me home this time of
+day?"
+
+"I hadn't thought about it."
+
+"Well, you see it's her birthday, an' tor_m_adoes couldn't 'a' kept me
+from bringin' her a cake. Ain't she the purties' object you ever set
+yer two optics on? Say 'Da-da,' Loreny,--leave off talkin' to her,
+Chick. Go on, Loreny, say, 'Da-da' fer de purty lady!"
+
+"He's that silly about her," said Maria Flathers, trying to conceal
+her own pride. "He won't leave me put anything but white dresses and
+blue shoes on her, an' he works extra time to pay fer 'em. Myrtella
+says there ain't no fools like old ones."
+
+"That's all right," said Phineas; "she'll have more to say when I give
+Loreny a diamond ring on her next birthday. Iseling'll be givin' me a
+raise soon. He's as good as said so. He knows I'm good fer everything
+from bossin' a big job to drivin' a wagon; then look at the trade I
+command! Why, Mis' Squeerington, them Ladies' Aiders in the Immanuel
+Church, follered me solid, an' Mrs. Ivy an' the Anti-Tobacs--Shoo, I
+could start out fer myself tomorrow."
+
+"It's one o'clock!" warned Maria, anxious to speed her master on his
+way in order that she might come in for a few conversational crumbs.
+
+"One o'clock! Holy Moses! I must be hiking, if I want to hear the rest
+of the trial."
+
+"The trial?" repeated Miss Lady instantly alert; "were you at the
+courthouse this morning?"
+
+"Yes, mam, I was. Everybody was. Court room packed to the doors. I sez
+to Iseling this morning, I sez, 'I'll make the noon delivery all
+right, but the rest of the day's my own. It ain't only because of my
+former connection with the Sequin family,' sez I; 'it's because Mr.
+Don Morley is a personal friend of mine. He's white an' he's square,'
+sez I, 'an' the open-handedest young gent I ever done a favor for. If
+it's a case of standin' by him in trouble, or losin' my job,' I sez,
+'why ta-ta to the job!'"
+
+"But when you left," urged Miss Lady, "what were they doing? How did
+people feel about it?"
+
+"Mighty shaky, mam. They ain't got a scrap of good evidence fer him,
+an' enough ag'in him to sink a ship. Old man Wicker's son is puttin'
+up a stiff fight, but he's up aginst Kinner, an' Kinner could convict
+St. Peter hisself!"
+
+"But can't they get the truth out of Sheeley? Can't they force him to
+tell what happened?"
+
+Phineas shrugged contemptuously: "Sheeley lost his memory when he lost
+his eye. One was put out with lead, an' the other with silver. Says
+now he wasn't in the fight at all."
+
+"It's a lie! He wuz!" Chick had risen from his pillow, and was leaning
+forward excitedly.
+
+"What do you mean, Chick? How do you know?"
+
+"He _wuz_ in the fight!" he cried huskily. "It was 'tween him an'
+the drunk. Sheeley ketched him fakin' a ace, an' he calls Sheeley a
+liar, an' they fit all over the floor. The big one wasn't in it! He
+kep' tryin' to stop 'em, buttin' in with his whip."
+
+"But how do you know all this, Chick?" cried Miss Lady almost
+fiercely; "did the Sheeley boy tell you?"
+
+"Skeeter? Shucks, he don't know nothin' 'ceptin' what his paw tole
+him."
+
+"But who told you?"
+
+Chick closed his lips and shook his head: "He'll set the cop on me."
+
+"Who?"
+
+"Skeeter's paw. Fer smashin' the slot machine. But I never took none
+of his money, Mis' Squeerington; it was mine!" His lips began to
+tremble.
+
+"The cop won't get you, Chick," said Miss Lady, now on her knees
+beside him, coaxing out each statement, and trying to keep down her
+excitement. "Tell me, quick! How do you know about the shooting?"
+
+"'Cause," said Chick fearfully, "I--I seen it!"
+
+"Well, if that ain't the limit!" said Phineas, while Maria gathered
+Loreny up under the impression that Chick had lost his mind, and might
+become dangerous.
+
+"I got shut up in the saloon," continued Chick, evidently torn between
+the desire to be a hero and the fear of the consequences, "an' it was
+night, an' I went to sleep."
+
+"Yes, yes!" pressed Miss Lady; "go on."
+
+"Then they come in an' got to rough-housin' an' I crawl up-stairs an'
+lay on me stommick an' peek through the crack. An' Sheeley an' the
+Drunk they got to scrappin' like I tole you. An' then while the big
+one was tryin' to git Sheeley to quit, the Drunk he come over to the
+door right where I was layin' at, an' he steady hisself aginst the
+wall an' bang loose at Sheeley with a pistol."
+
+"Would you know the Big One again? Oh, Chick, try to remember what he
+looked like!"
+
+Chick shook his head, "Naw, I don't 'member what none of 'em looked
+like. But you know which one he was; he gimme the silver knob offen
+his whip."
+
+Miss Lady sprang to her feet: "We must get him to the courthouse, Mr.
+Flathers. Quick! Help me with his clothes. I'll put on his shoes and
+stockings."
+
+"But the train--" began Phineas.
+
+"We can't wait for it!" cried Miss Lady. "You must drive us in the
+wagon." In a surprisingly few minutes Chick, bewildered but
+interested, was fully clothed. "Give me the blankets off the bed and
+help me wrap them around him," said Miss Lady. "There! You carry him
+and I'll hold the umbrella. Keep your mouth shut, Chick; don't you
+dare open it until I tell you."
+
+[Illustration: "Tell me quick! How do you know about the shooting?"]
+
+The bewildered Chick, encased like a mummy, was rushed out to the
+wagon and deposited between two ice-cream freezers, while Miss Lady
+knelt beside him, trying to shield him from the wind. Just as Phincas
+was driving away there was a call from the cottage.
+
+For the first and only time in her life Maria Flathers had collided
+with an idea. In vain she reversed her mental engines and tried to
+back off, but the collision was head on, and she and the idea were
+firmly welded together.
+
+"Here's the whip han'le!" she called wildly, as the wind caught her
+skirts and twisted them about her. "I been usin' it fer a thimble. An'
+here's the whip itself--Take'em along! Take'em fer a witness!"
+
+Once again the red-topped wagon got started, this time in earnest.
+Through the mud and slush of Bean Alley, past the Dump Heap, across
+the Common, the sturdy little mare dashed furiously.
+
+"Don't breathe through your mouth, Chick!" implored Miss Lady. "And
+don't be afraid. All you have to do is to tell what you saw. Don't
+keep back anything, tell it just as you told it to me."
+
+"'Bout the slot machine?" queried an anxious voice from the blankets.
+
+"About everything. Nobody is going to hurt you, or blame you. You
+aren't catching cold, are you? Here put on my gloves, and you mustn't
+talk, not another word."
+
+For an interminable time they splashed through the slush of the road,
+before they came to the pavements of the city. Looking out of the
+wagon, they could see the broad yellow waters of the river with its
+long, black coal barges, and the dim outline of Billy-goat Hill,
+growing fainter in the distance.
+
+"Faster, Mr. Flathers, drive faster!" implored Miss Lady.
+
+Phineas willingly laid the whip across the flank of the little mare,
+and they dashed along, through the crowded thoroughfare into a broad
+street of warehouses, where they followed the tramway straight across
+the murky city. All the while the sleet beat on the red top of the
+wagon and rattled under the horse's hoofs, and Miss Lady sat clasping
+Chick, counting the passing moments.
+
+At last the dark courthouse loomed up ahead of them, and Phineas
+rounding a curb by a fraction, dashed for the open square.
+
+"Morley case gone to the jury?" he hung half out of the wagon to shout
+to a man coming down the wide steps.
+
+"Not yet."
+
+Miss Lady was already frantically pulling the blankets from the
+submerged Chick.
+
+"Wait for Mr. Flathers to carry you," she cried, springing to the
+ground and looking up at him anxiously. "Remember you are going to
+tell them everything. You are helping to save Mr. Morley, and you're
+doing it for me."
+
+The eyes of the pale, spindle-legged child, standing in the end of the
+wagon, flashed past the courthouse to the barred windows of the
+adjoining jail. Suddenly his legs fell to shaking harder even than
+they had shaken at the hospital, and his lips quivered threateningly.
+
+"Chick!" cried Miss Lady despairingly. "You aren't going to fail me--
+you are going to stand by me, aren't you?"
+
+For a moment he shut his eyes very tight, then he transferred the
+small quid of tobacco which had been his one solace in the past hour,
+from his right cheek to his left.
+
+"Sure!" he said resolutely.
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XXX
+
+
+"One! two! three! four!"
+
+The big clock that had ticked away so many anxious moments for so many
+anxious watchers, hurled its announcement over the crowded court room.
+The last testimony had been given, Chick had told his story, produced
+his proofs and identified Morley; the prosecuting attorney had torn
+his story to tatters, and confused the youthful witness hopelessly;
+the counsel for the defense had now risen to make his final speech to
+the jury. Suspense hung thick as a fog over the court room.
+
+Miss Lady, sitting between Mr. Gooch and Connie, pushed back her short
+black veil impatiently. The hours she had fought through since
+midnight seemed as nothing compared to this eternity of waiting. Since
+entering the room she had not once looked at Donald. She dared not
+open even a tiny sluice in the dike that held back the sea of her
+love. But in every fiber of her being she felt him sitting there under
+suspicion, his future in the hands of twelve men who had the power of
+making him suffer the penalty of a crime which he had not committed.
+It was unjust, cruel, infamous! Surge after surge of indignation swept
+over her. She would fight for him against them all. She would get up
+and tell what she knew of the story, and his reason for staying
+abroad.
+
+"Isn't he magnificent?" whispered Connie, clasping her arm; "he has
+been perfectly calm and quiet like that all along, and yet think what
+it means to him! Look at his eyes!"
+
+Miss Lady could not look, the grip at her throat was tightening and a
+dull roar sounded in her ears.
+
+"But if he loses, Connie? If he loses, what then?"
+
+"He won't lose. He's going to win. You ought to have heard him this
+morning. He was perfectly magnificent! Even Mr. Gooch said he made him
+think of Lincoln. Listen to him now!"
+
+Miss Lady followed Connie's adoring gaze until it rested on the stern,
+earnest face of Noah Wicker, then the truth rushed upon her.
+
+For a moment a blindness seized her, then she sprang to her feet and
+lifted her face to Don. He had been waiting for that look ever since
+she entered the court room, and when it came he was ready for it.
+
+As Noah Wicker sat down amid a thunder of applause, and the jury,
+after a brief charge from the bench made ready to retire, a slender,
+black-gowned figure pushed her way impetuously through the crowd. She
+circled the rear seats and rushed headlong to where the defendant sat.
+
+"Are you a member of Mr. Morley's family?" asked the deputy sheriff.
+
+"No," said Miss Lady, brushing him aside, "but I'm going to be."
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XXXI
+
+
+That evening Mr. Gooch went home with the Ivys whom, as he was now
+adrift, he purposed adopting. For a long time they sat over the fire
+discussing the exciting events of the day.
+
+"I could scarcely believe my eyes," murmured Mrs. Ivy, "when at the
+verdict,' Not Guilty,' I saw her fling her arms about his neck!"
+
+"Why surprised?" snapped the attorney. "Aren't women born fatuous?"
+
+"But the whole thing is so indelicate, so heartless! A young widow who
+ought to be mourning beside her husband's grave, and a wild young man
+who has just escaped the penitentiary. Hasn't suffering taught them
+anything?"
+
+Gerald, sitting on a hassock before the fire with hands clasped about
+his knees, looked up with shining eyes:
+
+"You don't understand, Mater! All this has been the price they've paid
+for each other. A great love like theirs comes high. One must pay for
+it with suffering. Jove, it was worth it! That one look they gave each
+other, there at the end--",
+
+"But the dear, dear Doctor," interrupted Mrs. Ivy, "laid away only
+seven months ago!"
+
+"Six months and three weeks," corrected Mr. Gooch testily.
+
+THE END
+
+
+
+
+
+
+*** END OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK, A ROMANCE OF BILLY-GOAT HILL ***
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