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diff --git a/.gitattributes b/.gitattributes new file mode 100644 index 0000000..6833f05 --- /dev/null +++ b/.gitattributes @@ -0,0 +1,3 @@ +* text=auto +*.txt text +*.md text diff --git a/6635-0.txt b/6635-0.txt new file mode 100644 index 0000000..8539b7e --- /dev/null +++ b/6635-0.txt @@ -0,0 +1,10332 @@ +Project Gutenberg's A Romance of Billy-Goat Hill, by Alice Hegan Rice + +This eBook is for the use of anyone anywhere at no cost and with +almost no restrictions whatsoever. You may copy it, give it away or +re-use it under the terms of the Project Gutenberg License included +with this eBook or online at www.gutenberg.org + + +Title: A Romance of Billy-Goat Hill + +Author: Alice Hegan Rice + + +Release Date: October, 2004 [EBook #6635] +This file was first posted on January 7, 2003 +Last Updated: March 16, 2018 + +Language: English + +Character set encoding: UTF-8 + +*** START OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK A ROMANCE OF BILLY-GOAT HILL *** + + + + +Produced by Phil McLaury, Juliet Sutherland, Charles Franks +and the Online Distributed Proofreading Team + + + + + + + + +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 + + +[Illustration: “Do you believe in love, Doctor?”] + + + +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 Project Gutenberg's A Romance of Billy-Goat Hill, by Alice Hegan Rice + +*** END OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK A ROMANCE OF BILLY-GOAT HILL *** + +***** This file should be named 6635-0.txt or 6635-0.zip ***** +This and all associated files of various formats will be found in: + http://www.gutenberg.org/6/6/3/6635/ + +Produced by Phil McLaury, Juliet Sutherland, Charles Franks +and the Online Distributed Proofreading Team + + +Updated editions will replace the previous one--the old editions +will be renamed. + +Creating the works from public domain print editions means that no +one owns a United States copyright in these works, so the Foundation +(and you!) can copy and distribute it in the United States without +permission and without paying copyright royalties. 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You may copy it, give it away or +re-use it under the terms of the Project Gutenberg License included +with this eBook or online at www.gutenberg.org + + +Title: A Romance of Billy-Goat Hill + +Author: Alice Hegan Rice + + +Release Date: October, 2004 [EBook #6635] +This file was first posted on January 7, 2003 +Last Updated: March 16, 2018 + +Language: English + +Character set encoding: UTF-8 + +*** START OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK A ROMANCE OF BILLY-GOAT HILL *** + + + + +Text file produced by Phil McLaury, Juliet Sutherland,Charles Franks +and the Online Distributed Proofreading Team + +HTML file produced by David Widger + + + + +</pre> + <div style="height: 8em;"> + <br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /> + </div> + <h1> + A ROMANCE OF BILLY-GOAT HILL + </h1> + <h2> + By Alice Hegan Rice + </h2> + <p> + <br /> + </p> + <h4> + Author of Mrs. Wiggs of the Cabbage Patch Lovey Mary, Sandy, Etc. <br /> + <br /> With Illustrations By George Weight <br />(Illustrations not + available in this edition) <br /><br /> {Illustration: “Do you believe in + love, Doctor?"} + </h4> + <p> + <br /><br /> + </p> + <hr /> + <p> + <br /><br /> + </p> + <p> + <b>CONTENTS</b> + </p> + <p class="toc"> + <a href="#link2HCH0001"> CHAPTER I </a> + </p> + <p class="toc"> + <a href="#link2HCH0002"> CHAPTER II </a> + </p> + <p class="toc"> + <a href="#link2HCH0003"> CHAPTER III </a> + </p> + <p class="toc"> + <a href="#link2HCH0004"> CHAPTER IV </a> + </p> + <p class="toc"> + <a href="#link2HCH0005"> CHAPTER V </a> + </p> + <p class="toc"> + <a href="#link2HCH0006"> CHAPTER VI </a> + </p> + <p class="toc"> + <a href="#link2HCH0007"> CHAPTER VII </a> + </p> + <p class="toc"> + <a href="#link2HCH0008"> CHAPTER VIII </a> + </p> + <p class="toc"> + <a href="#link2HCH0009"> CHAPTER IX </a> + </p> + <p class="toc"> + <a href="#link2HCH0010"> CHAPTER X </a> + </p> + <p class="toc"> + <a href="#link2HCH0011"> CHAPTER XI </a> + </p> + <p class="toc"> + <a href="#link2HCH0012"> CHAPTER XII </a> + </p> + <p class="toc"> + <a href="#link2HCH0013"> CHAPTER XIII </a> + </p> + <p class="toc"> + <a href="#link2HCH0014"> CHAPTER XIV </a> + </p> + <p class="toc"> + <a href="#link2HCH0015"> CHAPTER XV </a> + </p> + <p class="toc"> + <a href="#link2HCH0016"> CHAPTER XVI </a> + </p> + <p class="toc"> + <a href="#link2HCH0017"> CHAPTER XVII </a> + </p> + <p class="toc"> + <a href="#link2HCH0018"> CHAPTER XVIII </a> + </p> + <p class="toc"> + <a href="#link2HCH0019"> CHAPTER XIX </a> + </p> + <p class="toc"> + <a href="#link2HCH0020"> CHAPTER XX </a> + </p> + <p class="toc"> + <a href="#link2HCH0021"> CHAPTER XXI </a> + </p> + <p class="toc"> + <a href="#link2HCH0022"> CHAPTER XXII </a> + </p> + <p class="toc"> + <a href="#link2HCH0023"> CHAPTER XXIII </a> + </p> + <p class="toc"> + <a href="#link2HCH0024"> CHAPTER XXIV </a> + </p> + <p class="toc"> + <a href="#link2HCH0025"> CHAPTER XXV </a> + </p> + <p class="toc"> + <a href="#link2HCH0026"> CHAPTER XXVI </a> + </p> + <p class="toc"> + <a href="#link2HCH0027"> CHAPTER XXVII </a> + </p> + <p class="toc"> + <a href="#link2HCH0028"> CHAPTER XXVIII </a> + </p> + <p class="toc"> + <a href="#link2HCH0029"> CHAPTER XXIX </a> + </p> + <p class="toc"> + <a href="#link2HCH0030"> CHAPTER XXX </a> + </p> + <p class="toc"> + <a href="#link2HCH0031"> CHAPTER XXXI </a> + </p> + <p> + <br /><br /> + </p> + <hr /> + <p> + <a name="link2HCH0001" id="link2HCH0001"> </a> + </p> + <div style="height: 4em;"> + <br /><br /><br /><br /> + </div> + <h2> + CHAPTER I + </h2> + <p> + 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. + </p> + <p> + 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. + </p> + <p> + 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. + </p> + <p> + 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. + </p> + <p> + 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. + </p> + <p> + 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: + </p> + <p> + “Jimpson!” + </p> + <p> + 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: + </p> + <p> + “Jimpson!” + </p> + <p> + 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. + </p> + <p> + 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. + </p> + <p> + 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. + </p> + <p> + “Jimpson,” he began, after the culprit had suffered his silence some + minutes. + </p> + <p> + “Now, Cunnel,” began Jimpson nervously. He had evidently rehearsed this + scene in the past. + </p> + <p> + “Just answer my questions,” insisted the Colonel. “<i>Is</i> this my + house?” + </p> + <p> + “Yas, sir, but Carline, she—” + </p> + <p> + “And are you my nigger?” persisted the Colonel plaintively. + </p> + <p> + “Yas, sir; but you see, Carline—” + </p> + <p> + “And haven't I, for twenty years,” persisted the Colonel, “been taking a + mint julep at half past two on Sunday afternoons?” + </p> + <p> + “Yas, sir, I was a comin'—” + </p> + <p> + “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. + </p> + <p> + 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. + </p> + <p> + “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. + </p> + <p> + “Well, please don't kill Uncle Jimpson 'til he finds my gloves. I don't + know where I took them off.” + </p> + <p> + “Yas 'm, Miss Lady,” Jimpson welcomed the diversion. “I'll find 'em jes as + soon as I git yer Paw his ice.” + </p> + <p> + “Oh, Daddy'll wait, won't you, Dad? I'm in a hurry.” + </p> + <p> + For a moment Jimpson and the Colonel eyed each other, then the Colonel's + gaze shifted. + </p> + <p> + “I'll git de ice fer you on my way back,” Jimpson whispered reassuringly. + “I spec' dat chile <i>is</i> in a hurry.” + </p> + <p> + 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. + </p> + <p> + “Going fishing, Dad?” she asked. + </p> + <p> + “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?” + </p> + <p> + “I can't. I'm going riding.” + </p> + <p> + “That's good. Who with?” + </p> + <p> + “With Don Morley.” + </p> + <p> + The smile that had returned to the Colonel's face during this conversation + contracted suddenly, leaving his mouth a round little button of + disapprobation. + </p> + <p> + “What in thunder is he doing up here anyhow; why don't he go on back to + town where he belongs?” + </p> + <p> + “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.” + </p> + <p> + “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?” + </p> + <p> + Miss Lady caught him by the ears, and turned his irate face up to her own. + </p> + <p> + “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.” + </p> + <p> + The Colonel refused to be beguiled by such blandishments. + </p> + <p> + “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!” + </p> + <p> + “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?” + </p> + <p> + “Well, you can't go to-day.” + </p> + <p> + “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.” + </p> + <p> + The Colonel brought his fist down on his knees: “I don't care a hang where + he goes. It's <i>you</i> we are talking about. You've got to promise me + not to go with him this afternoon.” + </p> + <p> + “But why?” + </p> + <p> + “Because,” the Colonel argued feebly, “because it's Sunday.” + </p> + <p> + 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. + </p> + <p> + “Suppose I won't promise?” she said. + </p> + <p> + 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. + </p> + <p> + “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?” + </p> + <p> + 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. + </p> + <p> + 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.” + </p> + <p> + 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. + </p> + <p> + 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. + </p> + <p> + 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. + </p> + <p> + 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. + </p> + <p> + 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.” + </p> + <p> + 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. + </p> + <p> + 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. + </p> + <p> + 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. + </p> + <p> + 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. + </p> + <p> + 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. + </p> + <p> + 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. + </p> + <p> + 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. + </p> + <p> + 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. + </p> + <p> + When Miss Lady disappeared the Colonel turned upon him suddenly: + </p> + <p> + “What about this rich young fellow over at your house? Who is he anyhow?” + </p> + <p> + “Morley?” Noah crossed his knees deliberately. “Why, he's a brother-in-law + of Mr. Sequin.” + </p> + <p> + “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.” + </p> + <p> + This not being in the form of a question, Noah conserved his energies. + </p> + <p> + “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?” + </p> + <p> + “Says he's been reading up.” + </p> + <p> + “Fiddlesticks!” roared the Colonel. “You can't learn farming out of a + book! What does he know about horses?” + </p> + <p> + “Oh! He's on to horses all right,” Noah grinned ambiguously. “You and I + couldn't teach him anything about horses.” + </p> + <p> + “Can he shoot?” + </p> + <p> + “Can't hit a barn door.” + </p> + <p> + The Colonel heaved a deep sigh, drained the last drops from his tumbler, + then leaned forward, confidentially: + </p> + <p> + “Noah Wicker, do you like that young chap?” + </p> + <p> + “Like him?” Noah looked up in surprise. “Why, everybody likes Don Morley.” + </p> + <p> + “I don't,” said the Colonel fiercely. “Here he comes now. I wish you'd + look at that!” + </p> + <p> + 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. + </p> + <p> + “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?” + </p> + <p> + 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. + </p> + <p> + “My daughter, Mr. Morley, will be out presently,” he announced with great + formality. + </p> + <p> + “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.” + </p> + <p> + 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. + </p> + <p> + “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?” + </p> + <p> + 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. + </p> + <p> + “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?” + </p> + <p> + “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.” + </p> + <p> + “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. + </p> + <p> + 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. + </p> + <p> + “Here you are, Dad! here you are, Noah!” she said, tossing a small package + to each; “sandwiches and hard boiled eggs for two.” + </p> + <p> + “Put the salt in for the eggs?” asked the Colonel, having had experience + with her lunches. + </p> + <p> + “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?” + </p> + <p> + {Illustration: The Colonel leaned back upon his knees and glared at + Morley.} + </p> + <p> + The Colonel gasped, partly from strangulation, and partly from amazement. + </p> + <p> + “Prince!” he cried. “Well, I reckon not! That colt's hardly broken to the + saddle. He threw Jimpson last week.” + </p> + <p> + “Well, I'm not Jimpson. Please, Daddy, just this once.” + </p> + <p> + “If that's the little beast Wick was telling me about,” said Morley, “we + are certainly not going to trust you on him.” + </p> + <p> + The Colonel leaned back upon his knees where he knelt on the porch, and + glared at Morley. + </p> + <p> + “Who do you mean by we?” + </p> + <p> + “The conservative party of which I, for once, am a member. From all I can + hear of that colt, no girl could handle him.” + </p> + <p> + “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!” + </p> + <p> + <br /><br /> + </p> + <hr /> + <p> + <a name="link2HCH0002" id="link2HCH0002"> </a> + </p> + <div style="height: 4em;"> + <br /><br /><br /><br /> + </div> + <h2> + CHAPTER II + </h2> + <p> + 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. + </p> + <p> + Two young people, flushed and smiling, drew rein and looked at each other. + In the eyes of each was a challenge. + </p> + <p> + “I'll race you to the mill!” cried Miss Lady, tugging at her bridle. + “Don't start 'til I give the word. Now, go!” + </p> + <p> + 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. + </p> + <p> + 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. + </p> + <p> + 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. + </p> + <p> + 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. + </p> + <p> + In a second Don was beside her. + </p> + <p> + “Are you hurt?” he cried, catching her arm with his free hand and looking + anxiously into her face. + </p> + <p> + “Not a bit. Who won?” she asked with a little catch in her voice. + </p> + <p> + “Lord! You were plucky! If anything had happened to you!” his hand + tightened on her wrist, and he drew in his breath sharply. + </p> + <p> + 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. + </p> + <p> + As the train thundered past and the gates lifted, Miss Lady turned quickly + and began to pin up her loosened hair. + </p> + <p> + “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. + </p> + <p> + “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.” + </p> + <p> + “Here, boy!” cried Donald, “hold my horse. The girth's broken; I'll have + to make another hole in the strap.” + </p> + <p> + 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. + </p> + <p> + “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'.” + </p> + <p> + 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 <i>he</i> should see + what the gentleman was doing. + </p> + <p> + 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. + </p> + <p> + 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. + </p> + <p> + 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. + </p> + <p> + “The little one got it!” cried Miss Lady indignantly; “he got it first! + Give it to him this minute!” + </p> + <p> + “I be damned if I do!” shouted Skeeter, roused to fury by the combat. + </p> + <p> + “I'll be damned if you don't,” said Miss Lady, equally determined. + </p> + <p> + 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. + </p> + <p> + “Well, partner,” said Donald to Chick, “what have you got to say to the + young lady for taking your part?” + </p> + <p> + “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.” + </p> + <p> + Chick having uttered no sound, it was evident that Skeeter depended upon + telepathy. + </p> + <p> + “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.” + </p> + <p> + 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. + </p> + <p> + “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?” + </p> + <p> + 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. + </p> + <p> + “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. + </p> + <p> + 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. + </p> + <p> + “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?” + </p> + <p> + “But you were so mad about it two weeks ago, you could scarcely wait to + start.” + </p> + <p> + “Lots of things can happen in two weeks. Shall I stay?” + </p> + <p> + “What do your family think about it?” + </p> + <p> + “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.” + </p> + <p> + “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.” + </p> + <p> + “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.” + </p> + <p> + “But think of the books he is giving to the world! He told Daddy he was on + his thirteenth volume!” + </p> + <p> + “Yes, he swims around most of the time in a sea of declensions, + conjugations, and syntaxes, in Greek, Latin and English.” + </p> + <p> + “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.” + </p> + <p> + “All of which I suppose is meant to reflect on a poor devil who doesn't do + things and doesn't amount to anything?” + </p> + <p> + “I never said so.” + </p> + <p> + “See here,” said Donald whimsically, “for two weeks you have been getting + me <i>not</i> 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?” + </p> + <p> + “Indeed I am. Does Doctor Queerington really think you could be a writer?” + </p> + <p> + “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.” + </p> + <p> + Miss Lady threw back her head and laughed: + </p> +<pre xml:space="preserve"> + “He wants to be a farmer + And with the farmers stand + The hay seed on his forehead + And a rake within his hand.” + </pre> + <p> + “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!” + </p> + <p> + “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?” + </p> + <p> + She looked away to the far horizon where a bank of formidable clouds was + forming: + </p> + <p> + “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.” + </p> + <p> + “I haven't so far!” Don said fiercely. “I've gotten what was worst for me + and I've made the worst of it.” + </p> + <p> + They had turned into the lane now and were walking their horses up to the + stile where Jimpson was waiting to take them. + </p> + <p> + “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.” + </p> + <p> + 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. + </p> + <p> + “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!” + </p> + <p> + 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?” + </p> + <p> + 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. + </p> + <p> + “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. + </p> + <p> + But Mike ambled past her, and after snuggling up to Don with a great show + of intimacy lay down at his feet. + </p> + <p> + “I'm glad somebody loves me,” Donald said. + </p> + <p> + “It's your riding boots, Mike likes. He never had a chance to taste tan + shoe polish before!” + </p> + <p> + “What do you like me for?” + </p> + <p> + “Me? Who said I did?” + </p> + <p> + “Don't you?” + </p> + <p> + “Oh, yes, I like tan boots, too. Why didn't you tell me my hair had + tumbled down again?” + </p> + <p> + “Because you are so beautiful, with it like that, Miss Lady—” + </p> + <p> + “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?” + </p> + <p> + “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!” + </p> + <p> + “Poor little chap! It was a mother you wanted.” + </p> + <p> + “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.” + </p> + <p> + “But since you have been grown, you've had lots of time to—to—take + things into your own hands.” + </p> + <p> + “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.” + </p> + <p> + “But you stayed longer than she did.” + </p> + <p> + “Yes, I played around on the Riviera for a while.” + </p> + <p> + “And you have been home, how long?” + </p> + <p> + “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 <i>Herald-Post</i>, + and asked me to go along. I was keen about it until—until I came + down here.” + </p> + <p> + They were both silent for a while, watching a spider that was exploring + Don's boot-lace. + </p> + <p> + “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.” + </p> + <p> + “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.” + </p> + <p> + “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!” + </p> + <p> + “Why?” + </p> + <p> + “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.” + </p> + <p> + “How do you mean?” asked Miss Lady, with disconcerting frankness. + </p> + <p> + 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—” + </p> + <p> + Miss Lady shot a glance at the handsome, boyish, irresponsible face beside + her. + </p> + <p> + “Don't go, Don!” she whispered impulsively; “stay here and buy your farm!” + </p> + <p> + “You mean it!” he demanded, seizing her hands. “You want me to stay?” + </p> + <p> + 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. + </p> + <p> + “If I stay,” he pressed hotly, “if I settle down and behave myself, and + make good, you'll promise me—” + </p> + <p> + “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!” + </p> + <p> + “I'll tell him, Dad!” called Miss Lady, springing from the hammock. + </p> + <p> + “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!” + </p> + <p> + 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. + </p> + <p> + <br /><br /> + </p> + <hr /> + <p> + <a name="link2HCH0003" id="link2HCH0003"> </a> + </p> + <div style="height: 4em;"> + <br /><br /><br /><br /> + </div> + <h2> + CHAPTER III + </h2> + <p> + 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! + </p> + <p> + 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! + </p> + <p> + 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! + </p> + <p> + It was after seven o'clock by the time he reached the Junction, and heavy + mutterings of thunder could be heard in the west. + </p> + <p> + “Does this street go through to the boulevard?” he asked of a man, + pointing with his knobless whip. + </p> + <p> + 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. + </p> + <p> + “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.” + </p> + <p> + 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. + </p> + <p> + 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.” + </p> + <p> + 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. + </p> + <p> + “... 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.'” + </p> + <p> + Donald looked at him and laughed. Here was evidently a fellow sinner. + </p> + <p> + “So you've straightened up, have you? How does it feel?” + </p> + <p> + Mr. Flathers cast a sidelong glance upward as if to size up the handsome + young gentleman on horseback. + </p> + <p> + “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.” + </p> + <p> + “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.” + </p> + <p> + “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!” + </p> + <p> + 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, + </p> + <p> + The CANT-PASS-IT SALOON. + </p> + <p> + 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. + </p> + <p> + 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. + </p> + <p> + A man got out of the machine and ran for shelter. He was coughing, and + held his collar close about his throat. + </p> + <p> + “Why, hello, Dillingham,” said Morley, recognizing him. “How did you get + out here?” + </p> + <p> + “Joy-riding,” said Dillingham with a curl of his lip. “Tried to make a + short cut, and got marooned. What are you doing here?” + </p> + <p> + “I've been out in the country for a couple of weeks. Got caught in the + shower. What's the matter? Are you sick?” + </p> + <p> + 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. + </p> + <p> + “Chilled to the bone,” he chattered. “I've got to get something to warm me + up. Is this a saloon?” + </p> + <p> + “Yes, but it's closed. Won't be open until midnight.” + </p> + <p> + 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. + </p> + <p> + “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.” + </p> + <p> + 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. + </p> + <p> + “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. + </p> + <p> + “Been out to the house to-day?” asked Donald as they splashed through the + mud. + </p> + <p> + “Just came from there. The truth is Margery and I have fixed things up at + last. Any congratulations?” + </p> + <p> + “To be sure,” said Donald, extending a wet hand, but frowning into the + darkness. “Have you told my sister?” + </p> + <p> + “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.” + </p> + <p> + Donald drew in his breath but said nothing. Had it not been true, how he + would have enjoyed punching Dill's head! + </p> + <p> + “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?” + </p> + <p> + “I've given up the trip. I'm going to buy a farm out near the Wickers', + and get down to work.” + </p> + <p> + Dillingham whistled incredulously: + </p> + <p> + “Yes, I see you doing it! You are counting on pulling off the Derby, I + suppose?” + </p> + <p> + “No, I'm not going to enter my horse.” + </p> + <p> + “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.” + </p> + <p> + 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. + </p> + <p> + “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?” + </p> + <p> + “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. + </p> + <p> + “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?” + </p> + <p> + But Sheeley did not heed her; he was busy doing the honors to one he + evidently considered an honored guest. + </p> + <p> + “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.” + </p> + <p> + When they were ready to go, Mrs. Sheeley followed them anxiously to the + door. + </p> + <p> + “It's a awful stormy night, Popper; you ain't going to stay, are you?” + </p> + <p> + “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. + </p> + <p> + 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. + </p> + <p> + “Here! The side door!” shouted Sheeley. + </p> + <p> + “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.” + </p> + <p> + “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.” + </p> + <p> + “Sure I can. There's a stove up there, and a bottle or two of extra fine + liquor. Jes' step right up.” + </p> + <p> + 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. + </p> + <p> + “Who is that?” Sheeley demanded sharply, leaning over the banister and + peering down into the gloom. + </p> + <p> + No answer came, but a draught of wind blew in from somewhere, swaying the + gas-jet. + </p> + <p> + “Oh! it's a window that's left open,” said Sheeley. “That fool bartender! + I'll just go down and fasten it.” + </p> + <p> + 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. + </p> + <p> + “Take yours straight I believe, Mr. Dillingham?” said Sheeley, rejoining + them; “an' yer gentleman friend?” + </p> + <p> + “Nothing for me,” said Morley with unnecessary firmness. “I'll just wait a + second until the storm lets up, then be off to town.” + </p> + <p> + “Do any boxing these days, Dick?” asked Dillingham, pouring himself a + second drink of whisky, as he hovered over the newly kindled fire. + </p> + <p> + “Oh! I don the mitts occasionally to gratify me friends. My long suit + these days is faro; more money in it.” + </p> + <p> + Donald, standing at the window, staring out at the wild night, drummed + impatiently on the pane. + </p> + <p> + “Hurry up, Dill,” he said. “I don't want to keep my mare standing so long + in the rain.” + </p> + <p> + “Your mare be hanged,” said Dillingham; “just wait ten minutes until I get + thawed out, and I'll go with you.” + </p> + <p> + 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. + </p> + <p> + 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—? + </p> + <p> + “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. + </p> + <p> + “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?” + </p> + <p> + Donald retorted, with great dignity, that nothing in thunder was the + matter with him, except that he wanted to get back to town. + </p> + <p> + “Better not start with it storming like this,” urged Sheeley, as a crash + of thunder shook the windows. “It'll let up soon.” + </p> + <p> + “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.” + </p> + <p> + “And you'll go the minute the rain lets up?” + </p> + <p> + “Yes, if you'll play with us.” + </p> + <p> + 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. + </p> + <p> + Sheeley caught his eye and nodded significantly. + </p> + <p> + “All right!” said Donald, dropping into the vacant chair. “Only two games + remember! No whisky, thanks. What's the ante?” + </p> + <p> + <br /><br /> + </p> + <hr /> + <p> + <a name="link2HCH0004" id="link2HCH0004"> </a> + </p> + <div style="height: 4em;"> + <br /><br /><br /><br /> + </div> + <h2> + CHAPTER IV + </h2> + <p> + 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. + </p> + <p> + 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 <i>his</i> ash barrel, + felt called upon by Providence to adopt the foundling. + </p> + <p> + 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. + </p> + <p> + 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. + </p> + <p> + 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. + </p> + <p> + 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. + </p> + <p> + 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! + </p> + <p> + 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. + </p> + <p> + 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. + </p> + <p> + 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. + </p> + <p> + 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— + </p> + <p> + 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. + </p> + <p> + 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. + </p> + <p> + 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. + </p> + <p> + 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. + </p> + <p> + 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. + </p> + <p> + 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! + </p> + <p> + 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. + </p> + <p> + 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! + </p> + <p> + 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 <i>might</i> be the Devil! + </p> + <p> + 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. + </p> + <p> + 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. + </p> + <p> + 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. + </p> + <p> + 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. + </p> + <p> + “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. + </p> + <p> + “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. + </p> + <p> + 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. + </p> + <p> + 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. + </p> + <p> + 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. + </p> + <p> + 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. + </p> + <p> + 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. + </p> + <p> + “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. + </p> + <p> + “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. + </p> + <p> + “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. + </p> + <p> + “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. + </p> + <p> + 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. + </p> + <p> + 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. + </p> + <p> + 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. + </p> + <p> + What had happened in the corner, Chick could not tell, but in a few + minutes <i>his</i> young man came swiftly into his line of vision, and + shook the limp figure half lying on the table. + </p> + <p> + “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.” + </p> + <p> + The dazed eyes of the drunken man looked at him in helpless terror! + </p> + <p> + “I can't stay here!” + </p> + <p> + {Illustration: There was a sharp report, a smothered groan, then a heavy + fall.} + </p> + <p> + “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 <i>do</i> 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!” + </p> + <p> + 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. + </p> + <p> + 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. + </p> + <p> + 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. + </p> + <p> + 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! + </p> + <p> + 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. + </p> + <p> + 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. + </p> + <p> + 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. + </p> + <p> + <br /><br /> + </p> + <hr /> + <p> + <a name="link2HCH0005" id="link2HCH0005"> </a> + </p> + <div style="height: 4em;"> + <br /><br /><br /><br /> + </div> + <h2> + CHAPTER V + </h2> + <p> + 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. + </p> + <p> + 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. + </p> + <p> + 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. + </p> + <p> + “Make a light,” blustered the Colonel; “you mustn't sit around in the dark + like this, you know. Where's my pipe?” + </p> + <p> + 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. + </p> + <p> + “What's the matter?” asked the Colonel; “sort of trembly, ain't you?” + </p> + <p> + “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.” + </p> + <p> + She said it very carelessly, and even enumerated the contents as she + handed it to him: + </p> + <p> + “Two circulars, a letter from the seed man, the <i>Confederate Veteran</i> + and the newspapers.” + </p> + <p> + “Nothing for you?” + </p> + <p> + “Nothing.” + </p> + <p> + 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. + </p> + <p> + 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? + </p> + <p> + 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. + </p> + <p> + 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! + </p> + <p> + “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.” + </p> + <p> + “I haven't,” said Miss Lady, “but I'll do it now.” + </p> + <p> + “Needn't mind. Won't need 'em. Fact is, I ain't going.” + </p> + <p> + “Yes you are,” said Miss Lady, adding inconsequently, “Why not?” + </p> + <p> + “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. + </p> + <p> + “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.” + </p> + <p> + “I ain't going,” insisted the Colonel, shaking his head doggedly. + </p> + <p> + “Yes you are. Where's your traveling bag?” + </p> + <p> + “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?” + </p> + <p> + “Oh! Squire Daddy, I'm so sorry I forgot to tell him! I'll tell him now.” + </p> + <p> + “Too late!” the Colonel sighed in resignation; “no use talking any more + about it.” + </p> + <p> + “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.” + </p> + <p> + 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. + </p> + <p> + 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? + </p> + <p> + “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.” + </p> + <p> + “Jimpson,” the Colonel looked up reproachfully, “did you hear that? You + have actually let me get down to four handkerchiefs.” + </p> + <p> + “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.” + </p> + <p> + “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.” + </p> + <p> + The Colonel glanced around: “Where is Miss Lady?” + </p> + <p> + “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.” + </p> + <p> + “Any later news of the shooting?” asked the Colonel casually, when she + returned. + </p> + <p> + “Yes, Mr. Dillingham was indicted and arraigned before the court. The case + was passed until June first.” + </p> + <p> + “And Sheeley? What of his condition?” + </p> + <p> + “The paper says he will lose his eye, but that he will probably get well.” + </p> + <p> + “And—and nothing has been heard of Morley?” + </p> + <p> + “Not yet.” + </p> + <p> + 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. + </p> + <p> + “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!” + </p> + <p> + “Who? Oh, yes, Doctor Queerington.” + </p> + <p> + “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?” + </p> + <p> + “No, just the fidgets. Say, Daddy, what do you suppose they will do with + Mr. Dillingham, if he is convicted?” + </p> + <p> + “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.” + </p> + <p> + “But if he is cleared,” began Miss Lady, “that throws the guilt on—” + </p> + <p> + “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.” + </p> + <p> + 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. + </p> + <p> + “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!” + </p> + <p> + “It's that silly old piece!” said Miss Lady petulantly. “It always works + on my feelings.” + </p> + <p> + “But it wouldn't make you cry like this. Come, tell me.” + </p> + <p> + “There's nothing to tell—that is—” + </p> + <p> + “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. + </p> + <p> + “Out with it, kitten!” he demanded. “What's troubling you? Don Morley + business?” + </p> + <p> + She kissed his nearest hand. + </p> + <p> + “Thought so. You—you got to like him pretty well, eh?” + </p> + <p> + She nodded between her sobs. + </p> + <p> + “Better 'n most anybody?” he asked it jealously, but unflinchingly. + </p> + <p> + “Except you, Daddy.” It was a faint whisper, but it was reassuring. + </p> + <p> + “And what about him?” the Colonel continued. + </p> + <p> + Another burst of tears, then a resolute effort at self-control. + </p> + <p> + “He meant to do what's right. I know he did! He promised to give up + drinking and gambling and go to work.” + </p> + <p> + “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.” + </p> + <p> + “But, Daddy, we haven't heard his side yet. If I could just hear from him, + or see him.” + </p> + <p> + “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.” + </p> + <p> + “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?” + </p> + <p> + “He'll try it all right. I saw how things were going. I saw how he looked + at you. The impudent young hound!” + </p> + <p> + “Daddy! Please don't! You don't know him. He will explain everything when + he writes, I know he will!” + </p> + <p> + “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!” + </p> + <p> + “But if he explains?” + </p> + <p> + “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.” + </p> + <p> + She hesitated, and the Colonel began to fling the things out of his bag in + great agitation. + </p> + <p> + “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. + </p> + <p> + 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! + </p> + <p> + 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 <i>was</i> happy! + </p> + <p> + “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?” + </p> + <p> + “I promise, Daddy.” + </p> + <p> + Oh! the promises made for a day, and kept through the years, what a lot of + tangled lives they have to answer for! + </p> + <p> + Miss Lady put the Colonel's things back in his bag, and stooped to kiss + him good night. + </p> + <p> + “Sure you don't mind my going?”, he asked, studying her face. “I'll be + back Saturday night.” + </p> + <p> + “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.” + </p> + <p> + He lit her candle for her and carried it to the steps where he kissed her + again. + </p> + <p> + “My little girl,” he whispered. + </p> + <p> + 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. + </p> + <p> + <br /><br /> + </p> + <hr /> + <p> + <a name="link2HCH0006" id="link2HCH0006"> </a> + </p> + <div style="height: 4em;"> + <br /><br /><br /><br /> + </div> + <h2> + CHAPTER VI + </h2> + <p> + 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. + </p> + <p> + 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. + </p> + <p> + 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. + </p> + <p> + 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. + </p> + <p> + 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. + </p> + <p> + 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. + </p> + <p> + 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. + </p> + <p> + 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. + </p> + <p> + 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. + </p> + <p> + 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. + </p> + <p> + 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.” + </p> + <p> + 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. + </p> + <p> + 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. + </p> + <p> + 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. + </p> + <p> + 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. + </p> + <p> + “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?” + </p> + <p> + 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. + </p> + <p> + “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?” + </p> + <p> + “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?” + </p> + <p> + “Naw! He ain't been sick, but he took that bath you ast him to, and + where's his nickel at?” + </p> + <p> + Myrtella stood and watched the boys until the corner grocery swallowed + them and their new nickel, then she sighed and turned into Bean Alley. + </p> + <p> + 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. + </p> + <p> + 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. + </p> + <p> + 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.” + </p> + <p> + 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! + </p> + <p> + 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. + </p> + <p> + As Myrtella sailed wrathfully into port and docked at the door-step, Maria + looked up with a gasp: + </p> + <p> + “Law! Myrtella, you gimme a turn. I forgot this here was your afternoon + off. I thought sure you was Sheeley's rent man.” + </p> + <p> + “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. + </p> + <p> + “Yes, he's our landlord, but he gits another man to collect. Guess you + heard about his gittin' shot?” + </p> + <p> + “Read every word that's been printed. Is he goin' to die?” + </p> + <p> + “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.” + </p> + <p> + “Don't look like he grows a inch a year,” said Myrtella thoughtfully, + watching him depart. + </p> + <p> + “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.” + </p> + <p> + “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'?” + </p> + <p> + Maria, who had been attempting to remove something surreptitiously from + the table, looked apologetic. + </p> + <p> + “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?” + </p> + <p> + 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. + </p> + <p> + “How much?” she demanded heartlessly. + </p> + <p> + “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!” + </p> + <p> + 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. + </p> + <p> + 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. + </p> + <p> + 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. + </p> + <p> + He now presented himself in his own doorway, a hand on either side of the + jamb, and bowed profoundly: + </p> + <p> + “Miss Flathers! Pleased to meet you! I see you still continue to favor + yourself in looks. Lost your place, I suppose?” + </p> + <p> + “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.” + </p> + <p> + “Now I wouldn't put it that I was throwing it in yer face exactly,” began + Phineas, anxious to propitiate. + </p> + <p> + “Which means I'm a story-teller?” Myrtella squared herself for action. + </p> + <p> + “Oh, come on along,” coaxed Phineas; “no harm's meant. Go on an' tell us + what you left fer.” + </p> + <p> + “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.” + </p> + <p> + Phineas whistled an aggravatingly attenuated note of surprise: “The lady + you are working for must be a deef-mute.” + </p> + <p> + “She is. The same as you'll be some day. She's been dead three years.” + </p> + <p> + The triumph with which she made this announcement put a momentary quietus + on Phineas, and enabled her to proceed: + </p> + <p> + “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.'” + </p> + <p> + “But does he bother you?” put in Phineas astutely; “that's the real + point.” + </p> + <p> + “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—” + </p> + <p> + “Thought you said there was three children,” put in Maria mildly. + </p> + <p> + “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?” + </p> + <p> + “He's settin' out there on the door-step. Did you hear 'bout our + shootin'?” + </p> + <p> + “Maria was tryin' to tell me, but she didn't seem to have nothin' clear to + tell. Who do you think done it?” + </p> + <p> + 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! + </p> + <p> + “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?” + </p> + <p> + 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. + </p> + <p> + “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'.” + </p> + <p> + “If your cooking ain't any better than it used to be I ain't surprised,” + Myrtella said. “How bad was Sheeley shot, Phineas?” + </p> + <p> + “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?” + </p> + <p> + 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. + </p> + <p> + 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?” + </p> + <p> + “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.” + </p> + <p> + “How many trains a day?” + </p> + <p> + “Two ups, three downs and a couple of freights.” + </p> + <p> + “Should think you'd die of the exertion. How much do you get?” + </p> + <p> + “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.” + </p> + <p> + “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.” + </p> + <p> + “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.” + </p> + <p> + Chick, who had been sent to the grocery to see what time it was, came back + holding up five fingers. + </p> + <p> + “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!” + </p> + <p> + “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.” + </p> + <p> + “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. + </p> + <p> + 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. + </p> + <p> + 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. + </p> + <p> + 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. + </p> + <p> + “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!” + </p> + <p> + 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. + </p> + <p> + <br /><br /> + </p> + <hr /> + <p> + <br /><br /> + </p> + <p> + 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. + </p> + <p> + 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. + </p> + <p> + 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. + </p> + <p> + “What's the matter, Miss Hattie?” + </p> + <p> + 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!” + </p> + <p> + 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. + </p> + <p> + “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.” + </p> + <p> + <br /><br /> + </p> + <hr /> + <p> + <a name="link2HCH0007" id="link2HCH0007"> </a> + </p> + <div style="height: 4em;"> + <br /><br /><br /><br /> + </div> + <h2> + CHAPTER VII + </h2> + <p> + 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. + </p> + <p> + 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. + </p> + <p> + 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. + </p> + <p> + 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. + </p> + <p> + 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. + </p> + <p> + 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. + </p> + <p> + 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. + </p> + <p> + “I got it at the station this noon,” he said. “Thought I'd be over + earlier, but didn't know if you wanted me.” + </p> + <p> + 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. + </p> + <p> + 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! + </p> + <p> + 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. + </p> + <p> + 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? + </p> + <p> + 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. + </p> + <p> + 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. + </p> + <p> + 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. + </p> + <p> + 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. + </p> + <p> + 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. + </p> + <p> + 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. + </p> + <p> + {Illustration: She held it to the flame, and watched it burn to ashes on + the hearth} + </p> + <p> + 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. + </p> + <p> + 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. + </p> + <p> + 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. + </p> + <p> + 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. + </p> + <p> + 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. + </p> + <p> + 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. + </p> + <p> + “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.” + </p> + <p> + “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.” + </p> + <p> + 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. + </p> + <p> + “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.” + </p> + <p> + “Is this a D?” asked Miss Lady, looking over his shoulder. + </p> + <p> + “I judge so; an adaptation of the Greek character. Why the art of + handwriting should be considered obsolete, I am at a loss to—” + </p> + <p> + “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.” + </p> + <p> + “Then what are you going to do, my dear?” + </p> + <p> + “I was going to the cemetery.” + </p> + <p> + “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?” + </p> + <p> + “Indeed I can,” Miss Lady said impulsively; “you have helped me more than + anybody. Daddy would be so grateful if he knew.” + </p> + <p> + “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?” + </p> + <p> + “Yes,” said Miss Lady without looking up. + </p> + <p> + “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.” + </p> + <p> + “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.” + </p> + <p> + “Who is Mr. Gooch?” asked Miss Lady of the Doctor. + </p> + <p> + “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.” + </p> + <p> + “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.” + </p> + <p> + “He—he oughtn't to have gone away?” said Miss Lady, looking at the + Doctor interrogatively. + </p> + <p> + “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.” + </p> + <p> + “This acquittal of Mr. Dillingham puts the blame on—on him, doesn't + it?” + </p> + <p> + “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.” + </p> + <p> + 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! + </p> + <p> + “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. + </p> + <p> + “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.” + </p> + <p> + “Indicted!” + </p> + <p> + “Yes, he can never return to Kentucky without standing his trial. It is a + serious affair for him, I fear.” + </p> + <p> + <br /><br /> + </p> + <hr /> + <p> + <a name="link2HCH0008" id="link2HCH0008"> </a> + </p> + <div style="height: 4em;"> + <br /><br /><br /><br /> + </div> + <h2> + CHAPTER VIII + </h2> + <p> + 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. + </p> + <p> + 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.” + </p> + <p> + 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. + </p> + <p> + 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. + </p> + <p> + “Dat sure am a curious lookin' animal,” he observed. “Hit must b'long to a + show.” + </p> + <p> + 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. + </p> + <p> + “Is—is she a-waitin' fer anybody?” he whispered, motioning anxiously + with his soft hat. + </p> + <p> + “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.” + </p> + <p> + 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. + </p> + <p> + “'Scuse me, mam, but does dis heah happen to be Mrs. Sequm?” + </p> + <p> + “It is,” said the lady, haughtily. + </p> + <p> + “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.” + </p> + <p> + Mrs. Sequin eyed him coldly through a silver lorgnette. “Didn't they + understand that I was coming on the eleven train?” + </p> + <p> + “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.” + </p> + <p> + “Not at all, I left the city at ten minutes of eleven.” + </p> + <p> + “Yas'm, dat was de ten train den. De leben train don't start 'til long + about noon.” + </p> + <p> + “Preposterous!” said Mrs. Sequin, sweeping to her feet. “Take me to the + carriage. Fanchonette! Where are you?” + </p> + <p> + Uncle Jimpson apologetically dragged forward his left foot, upon the + trouser hem of which the small dog had fastened her sharp little teeth. + </p> + <p> + “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.” + </p> + <p> + 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. + </p> + <p> + At sight of the shabby, old, mud-covered buggy, and the decrepit apostolic + John she paused. + </p> + <p> + Jimpson all obsequious politeness, put a linen duster over the wheel, and + with a gesture worthy of Chesterfield, handed her in. + </p> + <p> + “I wish the top up,” she commanded. “The glare is unspeakable.” + </p> + <p> + 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.” + </p> + <p> + 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. + </p> + <p> + 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. + </p> + <p> + “Stop a moment!” commanded Mrs. Sequin peremptorily. “What a view! I had + no idea there was such scenery anywhere around here!” + </p> + <p> + “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!” + </p> + <p> + “Who owns it now? Who owns the hilltop?” + </p> + <p> + “I don't know, mam. We been sellin' off considerable.” + </p> + <p> + “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?” + </p> + <p> + Uncle Jimpson jerked the reins and looked a bit nettled. + </p> + <p> + “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 <i>dem</i> + 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.” + </p> + <p> + “Who are Miss Carsey's relatives, her advisers?” + </p> + <p> + “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.” + </p> + <p> + “But who is going to live with her?” + </p> + <p> + “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.” + </p> + <p> + “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?” + </p> + <p> + “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.” + </p> + <p> + “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.” + </p> + <p> + 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. + </p> + <p> + Suddenly Mrs. Sequin pointed dramatically to the little porch of one of + the cabins. + </p> + <p> + “A Sheraton! Great heavens! Where did it come from? What is it doing + there?” + </p> + <p> + 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!” + </p> + <p> + “And the legs are curved and have knobs, haven't they?” + </p> + <p> + “No, mam, dey ain't no more bow-legged dan most chickens. Do you raise + chickens on your place?” + </p> + <p> + “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?” + </p> + <p> + 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! + </p> + <p> + 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”? + </p> + <p> + “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!” + </p> + <p> + 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. + </p> + <p> + “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!” + </p> + <p> + And with that irritable dejection that often follows self-sacrifice, Uncle + Jimpson limped away with the subdued Mike skulking at his heels. + </p> + <p> + <br /><br /> + </p> + <hr /> + <p> + <a name="link2HCH0009" id="link2HCH0009"> </a> + </p> + <div style="height: 4em;"> + <br /><br /><br /><br /> + </div> + <h2> + CHAPTER IX + </h2> + <p> + 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.” + </p> + <p> + 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. + </p> + <p> + 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. + </p> + <p> + 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. + </p> + <p> + “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?” + </p> + <p> + “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?” + </p> + <p> + “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?” + </p> + <p> + Mrs. Sequin, who had a masculine susceptibility to a pretty face, could + not repress a smile. + </p> + <p> + “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.” + </p> + <p> + 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. + </p> + <p> + “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.” + </p> + <p> + “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. + </p> + <p> + 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. + </p> + <p> + 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. + </p> + <p> + “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.” + </p> + <p> + “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.” + </p> + <p> + “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.” + </p> + <p> + “And you have heard nothing from Donald?” + </p> + <p> + “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 <i>was</i> thirty-nine <i>last</i> June. + </p> + <p> + “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.” + </p> + <p> + “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.” + </p> + <p> + The suggestion of a smile hovered over the Doctor's thin lips: + “Thornwood's possessions, I imagine, are not for sale.” + </p> + <p> + “I suppose the extraordinary young person I met in the front hall was Miss + Carsey? What sort of a girl is she, anyhow?” + </p> + <p> + “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.” + </p> + <p> + “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.” + </p> + <p> + “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.” + </p> + <p> + “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?” + </p> + <p> + “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.” + </p> + <p> + 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.” + </p> + <p> + “I must try to look after them more,” the Doctor said, somewhat + helplessly. “Have you seen them recently?” + </p> + <p> + “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.” + </p> + <p> + “And Bertie, did you see Bertie?” + </p> + <p> + “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.” + </p> + <p> + “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.” + </p> + <p> + “From which Heaven defend me! What on earth is that noise? It sounds as if + some one were kicking the door.” + </p> + <p> + “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. + </p> + <p> + “'Blest be those feasts with simple plenty crowned,'” quoted the Doctor. + “You see how they spoil me, Katherine?” + </p> + <p> + “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?” + </p> + <p> + “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?” + </p> + <p> + “It all used to be ours, long before it was ever called Billy-goat Hill.” + </p> + <p> + “The name <i>is</i> a handicap,” said the Doctor. “You might modify it, + Katherine, by calling your prospective mansion 'Angora Heights.'” + </p> + <p> + “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?” + </p> + <p> + “It belongs to Mr. Wicker, now.” + </p> + <p> + “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!” + </p> + <p> + “I did not laugh at it,” said the Doctor. “I encouraged him. It seemed to + me the most excellent idea!” + </p> + <p> + “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.” + </p> + <p> + “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. + </p> + <p> + “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.” + </p> + <p> + 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.” + </p> + <p> + <br /><br /> + </p> + <hr /> + <p> + <a name="link2HCH0010" id="link2HCH0010"> </a> + </p> + <div style="height: 4em;"> + <br /><br /><br /><br /> + </div> + <h2> + CHAPTER X + </h2> + <p> + 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. + </p> + <p> + Uncle Jimpson, plowing near by, looked up and smiled: + </p> + <p> + “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.” + </p> + <p> + “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.” + </p> + <p> + “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. + </p> + <p> + “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.” + </p> + <p> + 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.” + </p> + <p> + “I'm <i>never</i> 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.” + </p> + <p> + 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. + </p> + <p> + 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. + </p> + <p> + 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. + </p> + <p> + 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. + </p> + <p> + 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. + </p> + <p> + 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. + </p> + <p> + The fact that amazed him was not that she frequently landed before he did, + but that she landed at all! + </p> + <p> + 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. + </p> + <p> + When this last lesson was finished, the Doctor closed the book + reluctantly: + </p> + <p> + “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?” + </p> + <p> + “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.” + </p> + <p> + “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.” + </p> + <p> + Miss Lady, sitting with her elbows on the table and her chin on her palms, + flashed a strange, questioning glance at him. + </p> + <p> + “Do you believe in love, Doctor?” + </p> + <p> + “Why, of course, you foolish girl, in all its manifestations, filial, + paternal, marital. Assuredly I do.” + </p> + <p> + “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.” + </p> + <p> + 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.” + </p> + <p> + She regarded him as earnestly as if he had been the fount of all wisdom. + </p> + <p> + “How long does it usually last?” she asked. + </p> + <p> + “Last?” he repeated. + </p> + <p> + “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.” + </p> + <p> + “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.” + </p> + <p> + “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.” + </p> + <p> + “I have only tried to direct and suggest,” the Doctor said; “in short to + take the place—” + </p> + <p> + “Of a father,” finished Miss Lady enthusiastically. + </p> + <p> + 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. + </p> + <p> + “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.” + </p> + <p> + “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.” + </p> + <p> + “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.” + </p> + <p> + “What nonsense! I never criticize anything but your pronunciation, and an + occasional exaggeration of statement. If I have seemed severe—” + </p> + <p> + “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.” + </p> + <p> + “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.” + </p> + <p> + “<i>I</i> do? Oh! Doctor! That's about the nicest thing I ever had said to + me.” + </p> + <p> + 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. + </p> + <p> + “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.” + </p> + <p> + 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. + </p> + <p> + “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.” + </p> + <p> + “And you won't forget to send me the copy of Mrs. Browning?” + </p> + <p> + “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?” + </p> + <p> + Miss Lady's eyes fell, and the color leapt to her face. + </p> + <p> + “This? Just a wild rose I found over there by the wall. I thought they had + stopped blooming weeks ago.” + </p> + <p> + The Doctor took it in his hand and examined it minutely: “It is the <i>Rosa + Blanda</i>,” 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?” + </p> + <p> + “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?” + </p> + <p> + “It will not be a fib,” said the Doctor quietly, “I do need you.” + </p> + <p> + Miss Lady met her caller at the front porch and relieved her of the jar + she was carrying. + </p> + <p> + “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.” + </p> + <p> + “The idea, Miss Ferney! Don't you sell them in the city all the time?” + </p> + <p> + “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?” + </p> + <p> + “Who?” + </p> + <p> + “Your Doctor. Don't see how you've ever stood him so long.” + </p> + <p> + “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!” + </p> + <p> + “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?” + </p> + <p> + “To-morrow. Will that be too soon for you to come over?” + </p> + <p> + “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?” + </p> + <p> + Miss Lady sighed: “I may have to teach; I don't know.” + </p> + <p> + “Sell off some more land. You don't need a hundred acres.” + </p> + <p> + “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!” + </p> + <p> + “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.” + </p> + <p> + “Well, I am not.” + </p> + <p> + “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'.” + </p> + <p> + “What did they tell her?” asked Miss Lady, training a rebellious moon vine + up the trellis. + </p> + <p> + “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!” + </p> + <p> + Miss Lady still found the vine absorbing, but she took time to say over + her shoulder: + </p> + <p> + “Tell your sister and Mrs. Wicker that that young man has gone to China.” + </p> + <p> + “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.” + </p> + <p> + Miss Ferney was allowed to glory undisturbed, for Miss Lady, leaning + against the railing of the porch, had apparently forgotten her existence. + </p> + <p> + “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.” + </p> + <p> + Miss Lady wheeled suddenly and flung out her arms: + </p> + <p> + “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!” + </p> + <p> + 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.” + </p> + <p> + 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. + </p> + <p> + “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!” + </p> + <p> + 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.” + </p> + <p> + <br /><br /> + </p> + <hr /> + <p> + <a name="link2HCH0011" id="link2HCH0011"> </a> + </p> + <div style="height: 4em;"> + <br /><br /><br /><br /> + </div> + <h2> + CHAPTER XI + </h2> + <p> + 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. + </p> + <p> + 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. + </p> + <p> + 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. + </p> + <p> + “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!” + </p> + <p> + “In the name of St. Patrick!” sympathized Norah, the visitor; “and their + pa not doin' nothin' with 'em at all?” + </p> + <p> + “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'.” + </p> + <p> + “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.” + </p> + <p> + “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>I'm</i> 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.” + </p> + <p> + “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!” + </p> + <p> + “Him that shot Dick Sheeley and run away?” + </p> + <p> + “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?” + </p> + <p> + “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.” + </p> + <p> + It was evidently worth saying, for a moment later, a thin, sharp-featured + girl of fourteen thrust her head in at the door. + </p> + <p> + “Myrtella, I told you I wanted that white dress fixed. I am going to wear + it this afternoon.” + </p> + <p> + “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.” + </p> + <p> + “Well I <i>will</i> wear it! I am going right straight up stairs and pin + it on.” + </p> + <p> + As the door slammed, Myrtella turned a beaming face on Norah: + </p> + <p> + “It ain't hemmed!” she said with satisfaction. + </p> + <p> + Norah shrugged her shoulders: + </p> + <p> + “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!” + </p> + <p> + Myrtella glared at her across the ironing board: + </p> + <p> + “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?” + </p> + <p> + “A cupful will do, 'til the morning. I'll bring it back before breakfast.” + </p> + <p> + “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.” + </p> + <p> + Norah coughed deprecatingly behind her hand: + </p> + <p> + “Sure you might make allowance fer a lady as busy as Mrs. Ivy. She can't + get her mind down to ordn'ary things.” + </p> + <p> + “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?” + </p> + <p> + “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.” + </p> + <p> + “Red-headed?” inquired Myrtella, arresting a hot iron in mid air. + </p> + <p> + “He was.” + </p> + <p> + “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.” + </p> + <p> + Norah on her way out encountered another visitor and turned back to + announce him: + </p> + <p> + “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!” + </p> + <p> + Myrtella, peering over her shoulder, suddenly scrambled down the steps. + </p> + <p> + “It's Chick!” she cried, beaming upon him. “How long you been here, + Chick?” + </p> + <p> + “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?” + </p> + <p> + “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. + </p> + <p> + 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. + </p> + <p> + “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.” + </p> + <p> + “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.” + </p> + <p> + “Oh, 'Tella! will you? 'Lasses candy? Ask him if he likes 'lasses candy.” + </p> + <p> + Violent nods of affirmation from the steam-enveloped victim. + </p> + <p> + 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. + </p> + <p> + 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. + </p> + <p> + “It sounds like hiccoughs!” said Bertie, his head on one side. + </p> + <p> + 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. + </p> + <p> + 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. + </p> + <p> + “Say, Chick, have you got a partner?” + </p> + <p> + Chick nodded. + </p> + <p> + “You couldn't be partners with me, too, could you?” + </p> + <p> + A violent shake of the head. + </p> + <p> + “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?” + </p> + <p> + 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. + </p> + <p> + “But I'm going to get bigger,” urged Bertie. + </p> + <p> + “And I've got a music box, and a water pistol, and some marbles—” + </p> + <p> + 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. + </p> + <p> + Bertie made a hurried trip to the nursery and returned with a neat blue + bag from which he poured treasures of agate and crystal. + </p> + <p> + 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. + </p> + <p> + 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. + </p> + <p> + 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. + </p> + <p> + 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. + </p> + <p> + “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!” + </p> + <p> + “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.” + </p> + <p> + Phineas, toying with his hat, suddenly sniffed the air and smiled. + </p> + <p> + “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'.” + </p> + <p> + 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. + </p> + <p> + “Honest, now, Sis, I never come to beg for nothin'. What I really come for + was to tell you 'bout our good luck.” + </p> + <p> + 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.” + </p> + <p> + “What for?” + </p> + <p> + “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.” + </p> + <p> + “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.” + </p> + <p> + 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. + </p> + <p> + “Where'd you git the money fer the lessons?” she demanded suddenly. + </p> + <p> + Phineas hesitated and was lost. + </p> + <p> + “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!” + </p> + <p> + “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.” + </p> + <p> + So convincing were Phineas' arguments, that in the end Myrtella consented + to act as <i>deus ex machina</i> for the new psychical venture, on + condition that Chick should be properly clothed, and fed, and made to go + to school. + </p> + <p> + 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. + </p> + <p> + “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!” + </p> + <p> + 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. + </p> + <p> + “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.” + </p> + <p> + “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.” + </p> + <p> + “Look, 'Telia, what Chick traded me!” + </p> + <p> + Myrtella cast a side glance at Bertie's extended palm, and promptly + rescinded the deal. + </p> + <p> + “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?” + </p> + <p> + Chick <i>was</i> 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. + </p> + <p> + With a fierce gesture of protection Myrtella pulled him to her: + </p> + <p> + “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!” + </p> + <p> + 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. + </p> + <p> + 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. + </p> + <p> + 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. + </p> + <p> + When Bertie began fingering the inkstand, she pounced upon him. + </p> + <p> + “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!” + </p> + <p> + 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. + </p> + <p> + 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. + </p> + <p> + “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.” + </p> + <p> + 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: + </p> + <p> + “To take charge?” she gasped. “Do you mean she's comin' to be Mis' + Squeerington?” + </p> + <p> + “I do.” + </p> + <p> + “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. + </p> + <p> + <br /><br /> + </p> + <hr /> + <p> + <a name="link2HCH0012" id="link2HCH0012"> </a> + </p> + <div style="height: 4em;"> + <br /><br /><br /><br /> + </div> + <h2> + CHAPTER XII + </h2> + <p> + “A bride who doesn't see her duty, should be <i>made</i> 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!” + </p> + <p> + 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. + </p> + <p> + 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. + </p> + <p> + “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.” + </p> + <p> + “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!” + </p> + <p> + “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—” + </p> + <p> + “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.” + </p> + <p> + “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.” + </p> + <p> + “Well,” said Mrs. Sequin, turning a handsome, bored profile to her + companion, “I shall never get over the absurdity of the marriage!” + </p> + <p> + “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.” + </p> + <p> + “Of course they did! Cousin John's letters sustain everybody. Especially + if you haven't heard his lectures. Of course he does repeat himself.” + </p> + <p> + “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?” + </p> + <p> + 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. + </p> + <p> + 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. + </p> + <p> + “I'll never get it hooked if you don't hold still,” she was saying. “Every + time you laugh you pop it open.” + </p> + <p> + “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?” + </p> + <p> + “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.” + </p> + <p> + “Silly!” laughed Miss Lady. “There goes the button off my slipper. Do you + suppose any one will notice if I pin the strap?” + </p> + <p> + “Nobody but Myrtella. Sit on your foot if she comes around. If you don't + hurry Cousin Katherine will have nervous prostration.” + </p> + <p> + “I don't see why you have to treat reception day like judgment day,” + complained Miss Lady. “Who else is down stairs?” + </p> + <p> + “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.” + </p> + <p> + “Who?” + </p> + <p> + “Mr. Gooch.” + </p> + <p> + “A friend of the Doctor's?” + </p> + <p> + “No, indeed. He isn't anybody's friend. He bores us all to extinction.” + </p> + <p> + “Well, what's he coming for?” + </p> + <p> + “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.” + </p> + <p> + “Do you have company like this all the time?” asked Miss Lady somewhat + breathlessly. + </p> + <p> + “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!” + </p> + <p> + 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! + </p> + <p> + 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. + </p> + <p> + 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. + </p> + <p> + 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. + </p> + <p> + 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. + </p> + <p> + 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.” + </p> + <p> + 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. + </p> + <p> + 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: + </p> + <p> + “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!” + </p> + <p> + 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. + </p> + <p> + “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?” + </p> + <p> + “Where'd you ever know Chick?” demanded Myrtella with instant suspicion. + </p> + <p> + “We both live on Billy-goat Hill. We always wave to each other when I pass + by, don't we, Chick?” + </p> + <p> + 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: + </p> + <p> + “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!” + </p> + <p> + “I'll bathe him,” said Miss Lady eagerly. + </p> + <p> + “No,” said Myrtella firmly, “there can't nobody but me manage him.” + </p> + <p> + 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. + </p> + <p> + 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. + </p> + <p> + 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. + </p> + <p> + 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. + </p> + <p> + 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. + </p> + <p> + 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. + </p> + <p> + 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. + </p> + <p> + 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. + </p> + <p> + 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. + </p> + <p> + 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. + </p> + <p> + 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. + </p> + <p> + 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. + </p> + <p> + 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. + </p> + <p> + “I am so sorry!” stammered Miss Lady in laughing chagrin, “I—I + thought you were the Doctor!” + </p> + <p> + “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!” + </p> + <p> + “Yes, but you don't understand. I am—” + </p> + <p> + “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—” + </p> + <p> + “Oh! You are Mr. Gooch?” + </p> + <p> + “I am. And I have the pleasure of addressing—” + </p> + <p> + “Why, I'm Mrs. Queerington,” said Miss Lady, blushing furiously. + </p> + <p> + Mr. Gooch sank back into the chair and looked at her indignantly. + </p> + <p> + “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.” + </p> + <p> + “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?” + </p> + <p> + “It is only against the girls,” laughed Miss Lady. “We'll take him in, + won't we, Mr. Gooch?” + </p> + <p> + The Doctor listened with tolerant amusement as Miss Lady gave a dramatic + account of the double mistake, but Mr. Gooch failed to smile. + </p> + <p> + 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. + </p> + <p> + “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. + </p> + <p> + “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. + </p> + <p> + “But there isn't time,” insisted Hattie. “Connie is having a party + to-night.” + </p> + <p> + “A party?” The Doctor's brows lifted. + </p> + <p> + “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?” + </p> + <p> + 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. + </p> + <p> + “They are not pressing you into service, I hope?” he asked, glancing at + Miss Lady. + </p> + <p> + “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.” + </p> + <p> + “You forget, Constance, that there are other claims upon her. Mr. Gooch + and I would like to have her with us in the study.” + </p> + <p> + Miss Lady looked up in pleased surprise. + </p> + <p> + “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. + </p> + <p> + 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. + </p> + <p> + 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. + </p> + <p> + 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. + </p> + <p> + 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. + </p> + <p> + “Four aces, and pinocle,” announced Mr. Gooch with grim satisfaction. + </p> + <p> + 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 <i>must</i> 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. + </p> + <p> + Suddenly she caught her breath and listened: + </p> + <p> + “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.” + </p> + <p> + “As I expected,” the Doctor said, shuffling the cards. “When does he + return?” + </p> + <p> + “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.” + </p> + <p> + “Very probably,” said the Doctor. “Poor Donald! It's your lead.” + </p> + <p> + 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!” + </p> + <p> + “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.” + </p> + <p> + 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. + </p> + <p> + <br /><br /> + </p> + <hr /> + <p> + <a name="link2HCH0013" id="link2HCH0013"> </a> + </p> + <div style="height: 4em;"> + <br /><br /><br /><br /> + </div> + <h2> + CHAPTER XIII + </h2> + <p> + 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. + </p> + <p> + 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. + </p> + <p> + “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—” + </p> + <p> + “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!” + </p> + <p> + Mrs. Sequin's two plump fingers did duty for the bride and groom, but Mr. + Sequin was not interested. + </p> + <p> + “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.” + </p> + <p> + “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.” + </p> + <p> + “Everything depends on our having it somewhere!” said Mr. Sequin grimly. + </p> + <p> + “Mrs. Queerington's cook, madam, wishes to speak to you,” announced the + butler at the pantry door. + </p> + <p> + “Tell her to wait,” said Mrs. Sequin without turning her head. “What did + you decide about the decorator's estimates, Basil?” + </p> + <p> + “Decide? What time have I to be considering decorations? Why can't you + attend to it?” + </p> + <p> + “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.” + </p> + <p> + “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.” + </p> + <p> + 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! + </p> + <p> + “Excuse me, madam,” said the butler, “but she says she ain't going to wait + another minute.” + </p> + <p> + “Jenkins!” Mrs. Sequin raised her brows disapprovingly. “Send that odious + woman up to Miss Margery's room; I will see her there.” + </p> + <p> + 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. + </p> + <p> + “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.” + </p> + <p> + The girl in the bed turned a fretful face toward her mother: + </p> + <p> + “Why, Miss Lady promised to spend the afternoon with me. I've been looking + forward to it for days.” + </p> + <p> + “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.” + </p> + <p> + Margery Sequin clasped her thin white hands tensely, and resumed her study + of the vine-covered ceiling. + </p> + <p> + “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.” + </p> + <p> + “She ain't no fool,” returned Myrtella instantly on the defensive. + </p> + <p> + “Of course not, just young and careless. I dare say she doesn't even order + the groceries, does she?” + </p> + <p> + “No, mam.” + </p> + <p> + “Nor plan for the meals?” + </p> + <p> + “No, mam.” + </p> + <p> + “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.” + </p> + <p> + 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. + </p> + <p> + At five o'clock Miss Lady, very radiant and apparently in high spirits, + presented herself at the Sequins'. + </p> + <p> + “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.” + </p> + <p> + Margery turned admiring eyes on the bright face above her. + </p> + <p> + “I'm no worse,” she said, “just disappointed. I thought I was going to + have you all to myself this afternoon.” + </p> + <p> + “But I didn't know you could have me! I'll run in and tell your mother.” + </p> + <p> + 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: + </p> + <p> + “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—” + </p> + <p> + “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.” + </p> + <p> + “Miss Lady! She is Mrs. Leslie Marchmont, the most sought after woman in + town!” + </p> + <p> + “I don't care, her horses look as if they had been fed on corn stalks.” + </p> + <p> + “But you mustn't say such things! You must cultivate discretion. If you + want me to introduce you to the right people—” + </p> + <p> + “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.” + </p> + <p> + “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.” + </p> + <p> + 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.” + </p> + <p> + “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?” + </p> + <p> + “I forgot them, but it doesn't matter, I'm not going.” + </p> + <p> + “I'll send Jenkins for them at once.” + </p> + <p> + Miss Lady's cheek flushed and she looked at Mrs. Sequin in perplexity, + then her brow cleared. + </p> + <p> + “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?” + </p> + <p> + “But she has her nurse, there's no earthly reason—” + </p> + <p> + “Except that she wants me to stay. You'll feel happier, too, knowing that + she isn't lonely.” + </p> + <p> + “But don't you want to go to the tea?” + </p> + <p> + “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?” + </p> + <p> + 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. + </p> + <p> + “Don't you want some fresh air?” asked Miss Lady, when she had stood the + heat as long as she could. + </p> + <p> + “You may open the door,” said Margery, “we never leave the window up on + account of drafts.” + </p> + <p> + “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.” + </p> + <p> + 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. + </p> + <p> + “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.” + </p> + <p> + “Neither can I,” said Miss Lady. “I'm always forgetting it. Wouldn't you + like to sit up for a while?” + </p> + <p> + “Oh! I can't. I have to lie perfectly quiet.” + </p> + <p> + “Who said so?” + </p> + <p> + “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.” + </p> + <p> + “I don't believe it would hurt you a bit to sit up. If I fix that big + rocker will you try it?” + </p> + <p> + “But I haven't sat up for six weeks. When I try it in bed I have such + tingly sensations.” + </p> + <p> + “That's because your legs are straight out. Let's try it in the chair, + with them hanging down.” + </p> + <p> + “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.” + </p> + <p> + “Good heavens!” cried Miss Lady aghast. + </p> + <p> + “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.” + </p> + <p> + 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. + </p> + <p> + “Somebody has sent you some flowers!” cried Miss Lady excitedly. “How + nice! Shall I open the box?” + </p> + <p> + “Just as you like. They are probably from Lee. He sends them now instead + of coming.” + </p> + <p> + “But there may be a note,” said Miss Lady, searching in the tissue paper. + </p> + <p> + Margery shook her head wearily; the little animation that had flushed her + face, died out leaving it wan and listless. + </p> + <p> + “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!” + </p> + <p> + “You will if you love him,” said Miss Lady. + </p> + <p> + “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!” + </p> + <p> + “Have you told him?” + </p> + <p> + “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?” + </p> + <p> + 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. + </p> + <p> + “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!” + </p> + <p> + “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?” + </p> + <p> + “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.” + </p> + <p> + 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. + </p> + <p> + 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. + </p> + <p> + “Dear, dear Doctor!” she whispered almost fiercely. “So good, and kind, + and—and wonderful!” + </p> + <p> + Suddenly she was aware of some one watching her covertly through the crack + of the dining-room door. + </p> + <p> + “Myrtella!” she cried. “Is that you?” + </p> + <p> + “Yes'm, if you please,” came in strange, meek accents. “I'd like to speak + with you.” + </p> + <p> + It was so entirely out of the course of human events for Myrtella to + assume humility, that Miss Lady looked at her in amazement. + </p> + <p> + “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.” + </p> + <p> + “Why, Myrtella!” cried Miss Lady in dismay. “I'm afraid the work is too + heavy. We might get—” + </p> + <p> + “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?” + </p> + <p> + “Of course you are, but I thought you—” + </p> + <p> + “Was gettin' old, I suppose, and couldn't do as much work as I used to. I + look feeble, don't I?” + </p> + <p> + Miss Lady glanced at the massive figure with brawny arms akimbo, and + smiled. + </p> + <p> + “Well, what's the trouble then?” she asked kindly. “Why do you want to + leave?” + </p> + <p> + Myrtella's eyes shifted as she rubbed some imaginary dust from the door: + </p> + <p> + “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.” + </p> + <p> + “But I thought you wanted to have full charge and run things just as you + have done in the past.” + </p> + <p> + “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!” + </p> + <p> + 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.” + </p> + <p> + “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!” + </p> + <p> + “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?” + </p> + <p> + “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.” + </p> + <p> + “Friday, then?” + </p> + <p> + “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. + </p> + <p> + <br /><br /> + </p> + <hr /> + <p> + <a name="link2HCH0014" id="link2HCH0014"> </a> + </p> + <div style="height: 4em;"> + <br /><br /><br /><br /> + </div> + <h2> + CHAPTER XIV + </h2> + <p> + 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. + </p> + <p> + 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. + </p> + <p> + “Excuse me, ma'm, but will you be havin' the hot-water bag?” she asked + when she could endure the strain no longer. + </p> + <p> + Mrs. Ivy opened one reluctant eye and condescended to recall her spirit to + the material world. + </p> + <p> + “Norah, how could you?” she asked plaintively. “Haven't I begged you never + to disturb my meditation?” + </p> + <p> + “Yis, ma'm, but this, you might say, was worse than usual. Me mother's + twin sister died of the asthmy.” + </p> + <p> + “Never speak to me when you see me entering into the silence. I was + denying fatigue; now I shall have to begin all over!” + </p> + <p> + 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.” + </p> + <p> + 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. + </p> + <p> + 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. + </p> + <p> + “<i>Mister</i> 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!” + </p> + <p> + “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.” + </p> + <p> + “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?” + </p> + <p> + Decker bit his lip as he stooped to pick up the leaflet she had dropped. + </p> + <p> + “Gerald's here I suppose?” + </p> + <p> + “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.” + </p> + <p> + “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. + </p> + <p> + “Dear Miss Snell,” Mrs. Ivy explained, “corresponding secretary of the A. + T. L. A. If you had <i>only</i> 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.” + </p> + <p> + “Neither do I,” said Decker. “Do the Queeringtons still live next door?” + </p> + <p> + “Yes. You know our beloved Doctor has married again.” + </p> + <p> + “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.” + </p> + <p> + “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. + </p> + <p> + “Hello, Decker, glad to see you,” he drawled languidly. “Wish you'd stir + the fire, Mater dear; it's beastly cold in here.” + </p> + <p> + “I'll do it,” said Decker shortly. + </p> + <p> + 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. + </p> + <p> + As he idly turned the leaves of a magazine, he asked Decker how long he + had been back in America. + </p> + <p> + “A couple of months, but I've only been in town two weeks. Sorry to hear + you are under the weather.” + </p> + <p> + “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?” + </p> + <p> + Mrs. Ivy bent over him in instant solicitude. + </p> + <p> + “I do believe it <i>is</i> swollen, darling; just here. Look, Mr. Decker, + doesn't it seem a trifle fuller than the other side?” + </p> + <p> + Cropsie Decker's eye, not being trained by years of maternal solicitude, + failed to distinguish any difference. + </p> + <p> + “No matter,” said Gerald gloomily; “if it isn't then it's something else. + What's the news, Decker?” + </p> + <p> + “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?” + </p> + <p> + “Oh, you know Dill; he side-steps. The whole thing has blown over here + months ago; the subject is as extinct as the dodo.” + </p> + <p> + “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.” + </p> + <p> + “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—” + </p> + <p> + The two young men looked at each other and laughed. + </p> + <p> + “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.” + </p> + <p> + “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.” + </p> + <p> + “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.” + </p> + <p> + “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.” + </p> + <p> + 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. + </p> + <p> + “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.” + </p> + <p> + Gerald, at the moment regaling himself with his second cake, gave evidence + that he did not rely solely on the sustaining power of music. + </p> + <p> + “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. <i>Good</i>-by.” And with a tender + pressure of the hand, and a lingering look she was gone. + </p> + <p> + Gerald waited until the door was closed, then produced cigarettes which he + proffered to Decker. + </p> + <p> + “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?” + </p> + <p> + “By the way, your mother tells me he has married again. I don't know why, + but that tickles me. Was she a widow?” + </p> + <p> + 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. + </p> + <p> + “No,” he said. “I wish to Heaven she was one!” + </p> + <p> + “What's the matter with Old Syllogism? I always thought he was a rather + good sort.” + </p> + <p> + “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!” + </p> + <p> + “How did she ever happen to marry the Doctor?” + </p> + <p> + “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?” + </p> + <p> + “I hope Doctor Queerington likes her as well as you do.” + </p> + <p> + “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.” + </p> + <p> + “And you think you have?” + </p> + <p> + “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.” + </p> + <p> + “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?” + </p> + <p> + “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?” + </p> + <p> + They rose and went to the window, Gerald looking over the shoulder of his + shorter companion. + </p> + <p> + 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. + </p> + <p> + “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.” + </p> + <p> + 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. + </p> + <p> + “Stop pulling his head like that!” she demanded. “Don't you dare to strike + him again. Take that fire away!” + </p> + <p> + The negroes fell back somewhat astonished, and the driver arrested his + whip in the air. + </p> + <p> + “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!” + </p> + <p> + 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. + </p> + <p> + 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. + </p> + <p> + “Bravo, Miss Lady!” called Gerald, sauntering forward to meet her. “I told + you you were irresistible. What did you whisper in his ear?” + </p> + <p> + “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.” + </p> + <p> + “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.” + </p> + <p> + “I don't like tea in the afternoon; it spoils my supper.” + </p> + <p> + “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.” + </p> + <p> + “I can't. I'm drawing pictures for Bertie. He'll be disappointed.” + </p> + <p> + “So will I. So will Decker.” + </p> + <p> + “Decker?” Miss Lady flashed a glance at him. “You don't mean Cropsie + Decker?” + </p> + <p> + “Yes, I do; the special correspondent for the <i>Herald-Post</i>. Is that + sufficient inducement?” + </p> + <p> + Miss Lady looked at him rather strangely. “I'll come,” she said after a + moment's hesitation. + </p> + <p> + 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. + </p> + <p> + 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. + </p> + <p> + “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.” + </p> + <p> + “But where's your mother? I thought you said she was serving tea?” + </p> + <p> + “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.” + </p> + <p> + “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.” + </p> + <p> + “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. + </p> + <p> + “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.” + </p> + <p> + “Didn't he know he was indicted?” asked Gerald. + </p> + <p> + “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.” + </p> + <p> + “But he was with him,—that night at the saloon,” ventured Miss Lady, + sitting up very straight and listening very intently. + </p> + <p> + 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.” + </p> + <p> + “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.” + </p> + <p> + There was an uncomfortable pause during which Gerald tenderly felt his + afflicted face, and Decker glared at the chandelier. + </p> + <p> + “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.” + </p> + <p> + “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.” + </p> + <p> + “What is her name?” asked Gerald greatly interested. + </p> + <p> + “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.” + </p> + <p> + “What happened next?” asked Gerald; “did another planet swim into his + ken?” + </p> + <p> + “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 <i>Herald-Post</i> + 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.” + </p> + <p> + “Did he want to come with you?” asked Gerald. + </p> + <p> + “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.” + </p> + <p> + “Quite a tragic little romance,” Gerald said. “What a lot of mischief you + women have to answer for, Mrs. Q.!” + </p> + <p> + But Miss Lady did not hear him, she was still leaning forward absorbed in + Decker's narrative. + </p> + <p> + “If he comes home, in answer to your cable, when can he get here?” she + asked. + </p> + <p> + “Not before Christmas I should say.” + </p> + <p> + “If I were Lee Dillingham I should go South for the winter,” Gerald said, + going to the piano and striking a few random chords. + </p> + <p> + 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. + </p> + <p> + 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. + </p> + <p> + 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. + </p> + <p> + 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. + </p> + <p> + “Gerald!” she said, starting up; “what's the matter?” + </p> + <p> + “Everything. Is that your trouble?” + </p> + <p> + “What do you mean?” + </p> + <p> + “I mean that you are unhappy,” he said, catching her hand. + </p> + <p> + She sprang to her feet and snapped on the electric lights. + </p> + <p> + “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.” + </p> + <p> + “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?” + </p> + <p> + He was looking at her very intently across the table, and Miss Lady for + the first time recognized the danger signals in his eyes. + </p> + <p> + “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!” + </p> + <p> + 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. + </p> + <p> + <br /><br /> + </p> + <hr /> + <p> + <a name="link2HCH0015" id="link2HCH0015"> </a> + </p> + <div style="height: 4em;"> + <br /><br /><br /><br /> + </div> + <h2> + CHAPTER XV + </h2> + <p> + 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. + </p> + <p> + 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. + </p> + <p> + 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. + </p> + <p> + 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. + </p> + <p> + “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!” + </p> + <p> + 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. + </p> + <p> + 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. + </p> + <p> + 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. + </p> + <p> + “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.” + </p> + <p> + Chick followed instructions with the air of one who understood the + situation. It was not the first time he had prepared hurriedly for + visitors. + </p> + <p> + “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.” + </p> + <p> + 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. + </p> + <p> + 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. + </p> + <p> + “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?” + </p> + <p> + Chick was too miserable to answer. The bars of an institution seemed to be + already closing upon him. + </p> + <p> + Mrs. Ivy, holding her skirts very high and picking her way gingerly around + the frozen puddles, was the first to reach him. + </p> + <p> + “Ah! Here's our good little friend Rick, or Dick, is it? And this is the + sweet little baby sister that God sent you.” + </p> + <p> + “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.” + </p> + <p> + “The case that was reported for the Home,” said Mrs. Ivy, turning with a + significant nod to her companion who had just come up. + </p> + <p> + At the word “home” Chick shuddered. It was the most terrible word in the + English language to him. + </p> + <p> + “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.” + </p> + <p> + 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. + </p> + <p> + 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. + </p> + <p> + Standing just inside the kitchen door with her skirts still gathered + carefully about her, she viewed her surroundings with mournful sympathy. + </p> + <p> + “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—” + </p> + <p> + “Ah, Mr. Flathers,” remonstrated Mrs. Ivy, with a finger on her lip, + “never forget that whom He loveth He chasteneth.” + </p> + <p> + “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 <i>what</i> + way, I just said <i>a</i> way, that <i>a</i> 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!'” + </p> + <p> + Mrs. Ivy, who was much more given to dispensing morals than money, shifted + her position. + </p> + <p> + “Mr. Flathers,” she said, looking at him with what she conceived to be a + searching glance, “do you ever drink?” + </p> + <p> + Assuring himself that Chick had gotten the can quite out of sight, Phineas + looked at her reproachfully: + </p> + <p> + “Me? Why, Mrs. Ivy, I thought everybody knowed that since I joined the + Church—of course I ain't denying that there <i>was</i> 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.” + </p> + <p> + “And tobacco?” queried Mrs. Ivy. “Liquor and tobacco go hand in hand, they + are twin evils. Are you addicted to the use of tobacco?” + </p> + <p> + “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.” + </p> + <p> + 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. + </p> + <p> + “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.” + </p> + <p> + “Myrtella's heart's all right,” said Miss Lady cheerfully; “she takes care + of Chick, doesn't she?” + </p> + <p> + “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!” + </p> + <p> + “How long has she been taking care of this other baby?” Miss Lady asked. + </p> + <p> + “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!” + </p> + <p> + 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. + </p> + <p> + “Where is Mrs. Flathers?” she asked in despair. “Can't we give him a + bottle or something?” + </p> + <p> + 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. + </p> + <p> + “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?” + </p> + <p> + 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. + </p> + <p> + “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?” + </p> + <p> + 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. + </p> + <p> + “She don't look what you'd call strong,” he went on, anxiously, “but you + wouldn't say she was sick, would you?” + </p> + <p> + “I am afraid I should,” Miss Lady said gravely; “she looks very sick to + me.” + </p> + <p> + “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'?” + </p> + <p> + “Yes, I think I do, only you may not be willing to do it.” + </p> + <p> + “You try me. I'll do anything you say, Miss. If the Lord will only spare + her—” + </p> + <p> + “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?” + </p> + <p> + He looked at her in amazed horror. + </p> + <p> + “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.” + </p> + <p> + “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.” + </p> + <p> + “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!” + </p> + <p> + “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—” + </p> + <p> + “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?” + </p> + <p> + His emotions, used to responding to false stimulants, being now appealed + to by the one genuine feeling in him, threatened to become uncontrolled. + </p> + <p> + “There, there!” Miss Lady said, “if you really want to save her, I think + there's a way.” + </p> + <p> + “Not a Orphan's Home?” asked Phineas, lifting one eye from the baby's + petticoat where his head had been buried. + </p> + <p> + “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?” + </p> + <p> + “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?” + </p> + <p> + “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.” + </p> + <p> + “Jes' so it ain't garden work, nor gittin' up coal, nor nothin' that + brings on rheumatism.” + </p> + <p> + “Have you rheumatism?” + </p> + <p> + “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—” + </p> + <p> + “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?” + </p> + <p> + 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. + </p> + <p> + “You help me git a job, Miss, an' I'll promise to take keer of this here + baby.” + </p> + <p> + “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?” + </p> + <p> + “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. + </p> + <p> + “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?” + </p> + <p> + 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. + </p> + <p> + “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.” + </p> + <p> + 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. + </p> + <p> + 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. + </p> + <p> + “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—” + </p> + <p> + 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. + </p> + <p> + “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.” + </p> + <p> + “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, <i>to-day</i>.” + </p> + <p> + “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. + </p> + <p> + “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. + </p> + <p> + “When you've known Flathers as long as I have, you won't talk about him + paying up.” + </p> + <p> + “But you can't put them out like this, with that little baby and no place + to go!” + </p> + <p> + “There's the Charity Organization, and the Alms House,” suggested Mrs. + Ivy, wiping her eyes through sympathy. + </p> + <p> + “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.” + </p> + <p> + “Poor man,” sighed Mrs. Ivy; “how fortunate It was the left one! How did + it happen?” + </p> + <p> + “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'.” + </p> + <p> + “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.” + </p> + <p> + {Illustration: Maria began to cry, and forgot to jolt the Boarder} + </p> + <p> + “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.” + </p> + <p> + “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. + </p> + <p> + “I ain't never been able to say which one done it,” said the man, + faltering under her steady gaze. + </p> + <p> + “Perhaps it was worth your while not to say?” + </p> + <p> + The man shot a quick glance of suspicion at her, then his eye came back to + Phineas. + </p> + <p> + “Of course, I don't want to push him into the Poor House, and if he + expects to get work—” + </p> + <p> + “I do, Dick,” said Phineas fervently. “Monday morning I put my + shoulder-blade to the wheel somewhere.” + </p> + <p> + “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.” + </p> + <p> + Miss Lady was preoccupied and silent on the way home. The world sometimes + seemed desperately sordid, and human nature a baffling proposition. + </p> + <p> + 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!” + </p> + <p> + <br /><br /> + </p> + <hr /> + <p> + <a name="link2HCH0016" id="link2HCH0016"> </a> + </p> + <div style="height: 4em;"> + <br /><br /><br /><br /> + </div> + <h2> + CHAPTER XVI + </h2> + <p> + 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. + </p> + <p> + 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. + </p> + <p> + 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. + </p> + <p> + 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. + </p> + <p> + “Pull those portieres back a trifle,” she commanded, “and lower that + window from the top. Has Jimpson gone to the station for the + Queeringtons?” + </p> + <p> + “Yes, madam, half an hour ago,” answered the maid. + </p> + <p> + “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.” + </p> + <p> + “It's the new furnace man, madam, that Mrs. Queerington sent. It looks + like he can't keep himself quiet.” + </p> + <p> + “I'll quiet him!” said Mrs. Sequin, who was as near irritation as full + dress would permit. + </p> + <p> + 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. + </p> + <p> + “I am,” said Phineas with pronounced deference, “<i>the</i> new man and <i>a</i> + new man. Regenerated, born again, mam, the spirit of evil having departed + from me.” + </p> + <p> + Mrs. Sequin gasped. “What is your name?” + </p> + <p> + “Flathers, mam.” + </p> + <p> + “Dreadful! I will call you Benson.” + </p> + <p> + “Benson it is. Better men than me have changed their names. There was Saul + now, Saul of Tarsus—” + </p> + <p> + “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?” + </p> + <p> + Phineas, whose only claim to serving was that “they also serve who only + stand and wait,” dropped his eyes. + </p> + <p> + “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.” + </p> + <p> + “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?” + </p> + <p> + “She's in the library, mam.” + </p> + <p> + Margery, pale and listless, turned from the window as her mother entered. + </p> + <p> + “I was just watching for Miss Lady,” she said; “it will be rather amusing + to see her and Connie at their first big party.” + </p> + <p> + “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!” + </p> + <p> + “She looks very beautiful.” + </p> + <p> + “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?” + </p> + <p> + “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?” + </p> + <p> + “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?” + </p> + <p> + “She did,” said Margery absently. + </p> + <p> + “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?” + </p> + <p> + “Yes, I hear Miss Lady laughing.” + </p> + <p> + 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. + </p> + <p> + “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!” + </p> + <p> + “But where is the Doctor?” cried Mrs. Sequin in dismay. + </p> + <p> + “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?” + </p> + <p> + “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.” + </p> + <p> + “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?” + </p> + <p> + But Connie was absorbed in a trailing flounce that hung limply about her + feet. + </p> + <p> + “Look!” she cried tragically; “it's torn clear across the front. What + shall I do?” + </p> + <p> + “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.” + </p> + <p> + “I won't wear it all tacked up!” cried Connie on the verge of tears; “I'll + go home first—” + </p> + <p> + “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.” + </p> + <p> + “That's perfectly absurd!” exclaimed Mrs. Sequin indignantly; “you <i>must</i> + remember who you are, and that everybody is noticing you. Why can't <i>you</i> + wear one of Margery's dresses, and let Connie have yours?” + </p> + <p> + “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. + </p> + <p> + “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!” + </p> + <p> + 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. + </p> + <p> + 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. + </p> + <p> + 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. + </p> + <p> + 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. + </p> + <p> + “Who is she?” he asked of Cropsie Decker, who stood near. + </p> + <p> + “Who's who?” + </p> + <p> + “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!” + </p> + <p> + Cropsie followed his glance: “Oh, that's the new Mrs. Queerington,—the + wife of John Jay, you know.” + </p> + <p> + “But I mean the young girl going through the door there, with the + wonderful hair, and the profile?” + </p> + <p> + “That's Mrs. Queerington. Isn't she a stunner? Everybody's talking about + her to-night. I'll introduce you if you like.” + </p> + <p> + 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. + </p> + <p> + “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?” + </p> + <p> + 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: + </p> + <p> + “Thank you ever so much, but I'm not dancing.” + </p> + <p> + “Not dancing?” repeated Mr. Horton, not unmindful of the whiteness of her + shoulders against the dark marble of a neighboring pedestal,—'"Why + not?” + </p> + <p> + “The Doctor and I have given up dancing.” + </p> + <p> + “Oh, so he doesn't allow you to dance?” + </p> + <p> + “Allow me?” she lifted her level brows, smiling. “He simply doesn't care + for it.” + </p> + <p> + “And you don't care for it either?” + </p> + <p> + “Oh, yes, I do, I care for it too much. That's why I'm not dancing.” + </p> + <p> + “But you <i>are</i> 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?” + </p> + <p> + She laughed and shook her head, but her foot continued to pat the time, + and her eyes followed the swaying couples that swung past. + </p> + <p> + “What's the Doctor's objection?” Mr. Horton urged. + </p> + <p> + “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 <i>am</i> a married woman!” + </p> +<pre xml:space="preserve"> +“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.” + </pre> + <p> + “Hasn't it ever occurred to you that the Doctor might have something to + learn?” + </p> + <p> + “No,” she said brightly, “he knows everything. I sometimes wish he didn't. + I'd be proud if I could teach him even <i>that</i> much!” and she measured + off the amount on the tip of her little finger. + </p> + <p> + “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.” + </p> + <p> + “A play? I'd love to go to the theater just once.” + </p> + <p> + “You've never been? How extraordinary! Come with Mrs. Horton and me on + Friday night and let us share your first thrill.” + </p> + <p> + “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?” + </p> + <p> + “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?” + </p> + <p> + 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.” + </p> + <p> + “I might have known you were a horsewoman. Do you ride much?” + </p> + <p> + “Not now.” + </p> + <p> + “The Doctor doesn't care for it, I suppose?” + </p> + <p> + She flashed a questioning glance at him, then she looked away: + </p> + <p> + “No,” she said, “he doesn't care for it.” + </p> + <p> + Cropsie Decker, who had been hovering in her vicinity, now came up and + claimed the next number. + </p> + <p> + “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?” + </p> + <p> + “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!” + </p> + <p> + 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. + </p> + <p> + “I can't stand it another minute! I've got to dance once if I never dance + again!” + </p> + <p> + 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. + </p> + <p> + When at last the music stopped Cropsie drew her into the conservatory. + </p> + <p> + “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!” + </p> + <p> + 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. + </p> + <p> + 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. + </p> + <p> + 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. + </p> + <p> + “What's the matter?” cried Cropsie; “are you ill? Did you dance too long?” + </p> + <p> + “It's nothing, I'm all right. That is I will be—” + </p> + <p> + “Can't I get you some water, or an ice, or call Mrs. Sequin?” + </p> + <p> + “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.” + </p> + <p> + “Wait, I'll go with you. You are as white as if you'd seen a ghost!” + </p> + <p> + But before he could join her she had disappeared into mysterious regions + where he dared not follow. + </p> + <p> + <br /><br /> + </p> + <hr /> + <p> + <a name="link2HCH0017" id="link2HCH0017"> </a> + </p> + <div style="height: 4em;"> + <br /><br /><br /><br /> + </div> + <h2> + CHAPTER XVII + </h2> + <p> + 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! + </p> + <p> + 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. + </p> + <p> + 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. + </p> + <p> + 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. + </p> + <p> + 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. + </p> + <p> + “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?” + </p> + <p> + 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.” + </p> + <p> + “What party?” asked the man, his look of amusement giving place to one of + dismay. + </p> + <p> + “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!” + </p> + <p> + “You mean the Sequins are having a party, tonight?” + </p> +<pre xml:space="preserve"> + “Yas, sir.” + </pre> + <p> + “But aren't they expecting me? Didn't they get my telegram?” + </p> + <p> + “I dunno, sir. Dey nebber said nothin' to me.” + </p> + <p> + 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. + </p> + <p> + “What time is the next train back to town?” + </p> + <p> + “Dey ain't none, 'ceptin' de special, what's hired to take de party back + to town. Dat goes 'bout two o'clock.” + </p> + <p> + “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. + </p> + <p> + But this did not meet with Uncle Jimpson's ideas of hospitality. + </p> + <p> + “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.” + </p> + <p> + “No, there is evidently more room for me in town!” + </p> + <p> + “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.” + </p> + <p> + “I'm used to being lonesome. Haven't been anything else for a year.” + </p> + <p> + “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!” + </p> + <p> + 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. + </p> + <p> + “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?” + </p> + <p> + “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!” + </p> + <p> + 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. + </p> + <p> + 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. + </p> + <p> + “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.” + </p> + <p> + “Who is the Colonel?” asked the stranger with a quick glance of + recognition at the old negro. + </p> + <p> + “Cunnel Bob Carsey. My old marster. He's dead now, an' Mrs. Sequin she's + done borrowed me fer a while.” + </p> + <p> + “When did he die?” + </p> + <p> + “A year ago las' May.” + </p> + <p> + The man in the foreign cap pulled it further over his eyes and resumed his + scrutiny of the road. + </p> + <p> + “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?” + </p> + <p> + “Yes. Who lives there now?” + </p> + <p> + “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.” + </p> + <p> + A long pause followed during which the traveler watched the distorted + shadow of the trotting horse as it shambled along the road. + </p> + <p> + “'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.” + </p> + <p> + They were going through the covered bridge now and the rattle of the + wheels on the loose boards made conversation difficult. + </p> + <p> + “Wuz you eber homesick, Boss?” asked Uncle Jimpson inconsequently. + </p> + <p> + “Rather,” said the stranger emphatically. “I was born homesick.” + </p> + <p> + “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.” + </p> + <p> + The stranger took out a meerschaum pipe, started to light a match, + evidently forgot his intention, and looked absently ahead into the + darkness. + </p> + <p> + “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.” + </p> + <p> + “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. + </p> + <p> + “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.” + </p> + <p> + “And Mike,—what became of him?” + </p> + <p> + Uncle Jimpson looked at him in surprise, “How'd you know about Mike, + Mister?” + </p> + <p> + “Didn't you speak of him a while ago; wasn't he the dog?” + </p> + <p> + “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.” + </p> + <p> + 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. + </p> + <p> + “Ye gods!” exclaimed the stranger under his breath; “is this all of it?” + </p> + <p> + “Naw, <i>sir</i>!” 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.” + </p> + <p> + “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!” + </p> + <p> + 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. + </p> + <p> + “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!” + </p> + <p> + <br /><br /> + </p> + <hr /> + <p> + <a name="link2HCH0018" id="link2HCH0018"> </a> + </p> + <div style="height: 4em;"> + <br /><br /><br /><br /> + </div> + <h2> + CHAPTER XVIII + </h2> + <p> + 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. + </p> + <p> + 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. + </p> + <p> + 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. + </p> + <p> + 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. + </p> + <p> + 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. + </p> + <p> + 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. + </p> + <p> + 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. + </p> + <p> + 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. + </p> + <p> + 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. + </p> + <p> + 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. + </p> + <p> + “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?” + </p> + <p> + “No,” said Donald good humoredly. “I'm a prodigal brother. Where have I + seen you before?” + </p> + <p> + “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.” + </p> + <p> + “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.” + </p> + <p> + Phineas glanced suspiciously from the card to the stranger, then he + decided that he would not question the matter. + </p> + <p> + 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. + </p> + <p> + “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?” + </p> + <p> + “That's why I'm here. But how is everybody? How are Brother Basil and + little old Margery? Where's my saddle mare?” + </p> + <p> + “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?” + </p> + <p> + “Oh, tuck me in anywhere, just so there's a bath handy.” + </p> + <p> + “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.” + </p> + <p> + “That's right, don't bother about me, I'll get into some decent togs and + be down again in a little while.” + </p> + <p> + Mrs. Sequin paused with her hand on the banister, then she leaned forward + solicitously: + </p> + <p> + “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.” + </p> + <p> + Donald, standing a few steps above her, shot a questioning glance at her, + then he, too, understood. + </p> + <p> + “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.'” + </p> + <p> + “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! <i>Good</i> night.” She came up + two steps and presented her other cheek for a kiss. + </p> + <p> + {Illustration: Mrs. Sequin paused with her hand on the bannister.} + </p> + <p> + 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. + </p> + <p> + 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. + </p> + <p> + 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! + </p> + <p> + 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. + </p> + <p> + 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. + </p> + <p> + He lost his head completely. All the blood in his body rushed to his + throat. Something sang through every fiber of him. + </p> + <p> + “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.” + </p> + <p> + “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?” + </p> + <p> + 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. + </p> + <p> + 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. + </p> + <p> + 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. + </p> + <p> + “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.” + </p> + <p> + “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.” + </p> + <p> + “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.” + </p> + <p> + He looked up suddenly. “Did you ever get that letter I wrote you before I + sailed from 'Frisco?” + </p> + <p> + 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. + </p> + <p> + 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. + </p> + <p> + “Yes, Donald,” she said, meeting his gaze unflinchingly, “I got it.” + </p> + <p> + 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. + </p> + <p> + “That's all. I had to make sure, you know. And you didn't believe in me?” + </p> + <p> + Across her face quivered the desire for speech, and the necessity for + silence. + </p> + <p> + “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?” + </p> + <p> + 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. + </p> + <p> + <br /><br /> + </p> + <hr /> + <p> + <a name="link2HCH0019" id="link2HCH0019"> </a> + </p> + <div style="height: 4em;"> + <br /><br /><br /><br /> + </div> + <h2> + CHAPTER XIX + </h2> + <p> + 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. + </p> + <p> + “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.” + </p> + <p> + “Couldn't we rent a smaller house, and have less company?” suggested Miss + Lady. + </p> + <p> + 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.” + </p> + <p> + “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.” + </p> + <p> + “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.” + </p> + <p> + “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!” + </p> + <p> + “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.” + </p> + <p> + 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! + </p> + <p> + The door bell rang and Miss Lady glanced up apprehensively. + </p> + <p> + “It was the pickle woman,” announced Myrtella, coming in a moment later + from the hall. “I sent her about her business.” + </p> + <p> + “Not Miss Ferney!” cried Miss Lady, springing up and rushing out to call + her. + </p> + <p> + 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. + </p> + <p> + “Now, tell me about everybody out home,” demanded Miss Lady eagerly. + “Begin at the bottom of the hill and go right straight up.” + </p> + <p> + “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.” + </p> + <p> + “Mercy! How grand we are getting!” + </p> + <p> + “Just hemming table clothes and napkins. I can't say I think much of their + new place. It's kind of skimpy.” + </p> + <p> + “Why, Miss Ferney! It is the biggest house I was even in!” + </p> + <p> + “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!” + </p> + <p> + 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. + </p> + <p> + “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.” + </p> + <p> + “How do you mean?” + </p> + <p> + “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.” + </p> + <p> + “Is he going to stay?” Miss Lady paused and her fingers gripped the + banister. + </p> + <p> + “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?” + </p> + <p> + 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. + </p> + <p> + “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.” + </p> + <p> + 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. + </p> + <p> + 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. + </p> + <p> + “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. + </p> + <p> + 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. + </p> + <p> + “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?” + </p> + <p> + “I would,” said Hattie firmly. + </p> + <p> + 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. + </p> + <p> + 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! + </p> + <p> + “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.” + </p> + <p> + “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.” + </p> + <p> + “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.” + </p> + <p> + “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.” + </p> + <p> + There was a pause, during which Noah Wicker turned a surprised glance upon + the hostess. + </p> + <p> + “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.” + </p> + <p> + “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?” + </p> + <p> + Noah started to reply, but realizing that the company was looking at him, + forgot what he was going to say and bowed instead. + </p> + <p> + 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. + </p> + <p> + “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.” + </p> + <p> + Donald, retaining Hattie's hand, made the round of greetings. + </p> + <p> + “Where are Connie and Bert?” + </p> + <p> + “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. + </p> + <p> + “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?” + </p> + <p> + “Not until I got home,” Donald said without looking up. “I hope you've + gotten well again?” + </p> + <p> + “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?” + </p> + <p> + Donald smiled and puckered his brow. + </p> + <p> + “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. + </p> + <p> + “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.” + </p> + <p> + “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.” + </p> + <p> + “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. + </p> + <p> + “Oh! yes, I am always scribbling. It doesn't amount to anything though.” + </p> + <p> + “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.” + </p> + <p> + “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.” + </p> + <p> + “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.” + </p> + <p> + “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.” + </p> + <p> + 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. + </p> + <p> + “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!” + </p> + <p> + “Heavens, Connie! I didn't expect to find you so grown up. How long have + you been out?” + </p> + <p> + “I 've never been in,” she said, releasing her hand and smiling + consciously. “Aren't you coming to the Bartrums' party to-night?” + </p> + <p> + “No, I'm not in a mood for parties these days.” + </p> + <p> + “But I 've never had a chance to dance with you since you taught me to + waltz.” + </p> + <p> + “Horrible deprivation! Can you still do the cake walk I taught you?” + </p> + <p> + “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!” + </p> + <p> + “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.” + </p> + <p> + Donald pushed back his chair abruptly. + </p> + <p> + “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?” + </p> + <p> + “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.” + </p> + <p> + 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. + </p> + <p> + 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.” + </p> + <p> + “But you, will you take me? Just this once, Doctor?” + </p> + <p> + “No, no. My party days are over. Donald here will take my place, will you + not, Donald?” + </p> + <p> + 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! + </p> + <p> + “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?” + </p> + <p> + But Noah did not hear her; he was absorbed in watching Connie who stood on + tiptoe, pinning a flower in Don Morley's buttonhole. + </p> + <p> + <br /><br /> + </p> + <hr /> + <p> + <a name="link2HCH0020" id="link2HCH0020"> </a> + </p> + <div style="height: 4em;"> + <br /><br /><br /><br /> + </div> + <h2> + CHAPTER XX + </h2> + <p> + 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. + </p> + <p> + 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.” + </p> + <p> + 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. + </p> + <p> + 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. + </p> + <p> + 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. + </p> + <p> + 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. + </p> + <p> + 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. + </p> + <p> + 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! + </p> + <p> + 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. + </p> + <p> + 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. + </p> + <p> + 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. + </p> + <p> + 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. + </p> + <p> + “You've decided to stand the trial, I hear?” Mr. Sequin asked abruptly. + </p> + <p> + “Yes, I had to get the matter cleared up. It is all so idiotic, my being + indicted! I don't anticipate any trouble.” + </p> + <p> + “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?” + </p> + <p> + “No, I can't say that I do exactly.” + </p> + <p> + “Well, it's time you were finding out. How would you like to take charge + of your own affairs from now on?” + </p> + <p> + 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. + </p> + <p> + “Why, I shouldn't like it at all, unless it would relieve you,” he said. + </p> + <p> + “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?” + </p> + <p> + “Why, I thought the bank stock—” began Donald, but Mr. Sequin + wheeled upon him impatiently. + </p> + <p> + “Do you want my advice or not?” + </p> + <p> + “Of course I want it.” + </p> + <p> + “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.” + </p> + <p> + “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. + </p> + <p> + “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.” + </p> + <p> + Donald rose from where he had been sitting at the table. + </p> + <p> + “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.” + </p> + <p> + “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.” + </p> + <p> + 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. + </p> + <p> + 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. + </p> + <p> + 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. + </p> + <p> + 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. + </p> + <p> + Noah Wicker, for instance, while not exactly an impartial observer, had + arrived at quite a different conclusion. + </p> + <p> + “You watch the way she looks at Don,” he said darkly to Miss Lady on one + occasion. + </p> + <p> + Miss Lady laughed, “Oh! Connie's like the Last Duchess, she likes whate'er + she looks on, and her looks go everywhere.” + </p> + <p> + “Yes, but this is different. Has she ever said anything to you about him?” + </p> + <p> + “Mercy, yes, Connie talks to be about all the boys.” + </p> + <p> + “Does she talk about me?” Noah's eyes were as wistful as a dog's. + </p> + <p> + 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. + </p> + <p> + “Do you know what I'd do if I were you, Noah?” she said. “I'd have me a + new suit of clothes made.” + </p> + <p> + “Why, these are new!” + </p> + <p> + “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.” + </p> + <p> + 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?” + </p> + <p> + Miss Lady faced the question unflinchingly. “Yes, we are friends. Is he + going to win out?” + </p> + <p> + “With Miss Connie?” + </p> + <p> + “No, you foolish boy. In his trial.” + </p> + <p> + “I don't know.” + </p> + <p> + “What will happen if he loses?” + </p> + <p> + “The case will be appealed.” + </p> + <p> + “And if he loses in the Court of Appeals?” + </p> + <p> + “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!” + </p> + <p> + 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. + </p> + <p> + Miss Lady started up from the piano as he entered, but Connie pulled her + back: + </p> + <p> + “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?” + </p> + <p> + “Oh, yes. Wick's the Original Warbler. Do you remember our serenades on + the Cane Run Road, Wick?” + </p> + <p> + “Yes,” said Noah glumly. + </p> + <p> + “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?” + </p> + <p> + “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.” + </p> + <p> + 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. + </p> + <p> + 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. + </p> + <p> + Yet she <i>had</i> 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. + </p> + <p> + 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. + </p> + <p> + 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. + </p> + <p> + “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.” + </p> + <p> + “No, only my illusions, Connie.” + </p> + <p> + “Where did you lose them?” + </p> + <p> + “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?” + </p> + <p> + “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?” + </p> + <p> + “She said she was going to lie down, that her head ached,” said Noah. + </p> + <p> + “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.” + </p> + <p> + “Thornwood!” cried Donald; “she hasn't sold it?” + </p> + <p> + “No, but it's been put up for sale. She'd die at the stake for Father. He + doesn't even know about it.” + </p> + <p> + “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?” + </p> + <p> + 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. + </p> + <p> + <br /><br /> + </p> + <hr /> + <p> + <a name="link2HCH0021" id="link2HCH0021"> </a> + </p> + <div style="height: 4em;"> + <br /><br /><br /><br /> + </div> + <h2> + CHAPTER XXI + </h2> + <p> + 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. + </p> + <p> + “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!” + </p> + <p> + “Why don't you wish your tongue was one, Hat, then you wouldn't have to + sharpen it,” suggested Connie. + </p> + <p> + “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.” + </p> + <p> + “What are they doing with black borders?” + </p> + <p> + “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.” + </p> + <p> + “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?” + </p> + <p> + “Of course not. We'll hear as soon as there is anything to hear. I wish + you'd hush talking and let me study.” + </p> + <p> + Connie heroically refrained from speech for five minutes, then she + announced: + </p> + <p> + “Do you know, I don't believe Miss Lady likes him!” + </p> + <p> + “Who? Mr. Wicker?” + </p> + <p> + “No, you silly,—Don.” + </p> + <p> + “When did you stop saying Cousin Don, pray?” + </p> + <p> + “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?” + </p> + <p> + “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.” + </p> + <p> + “But she has Myrtella eating out of her hand. Imagine my marrying a man as + old as Father!” + </p> + <p> + “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.” + </p> + <p> + “Oh, I have! I know ten right now that I'd marry in a minute.” + </p> + <p> + “Connie Queerington! Who are the others beside Gerald and Cousin Don?” + </p> + <p> + “Guess.” + </p> + <p> + “Noah Wicker?” + </p> + <p> + 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.” + </p> + <p> + “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?” + </p> + <p> + “That Father would have to give up his classes, and get away some where? + But of course he can't do it.” + </p> + <p> + “But he can! Miss Lady has rented Thornwood from the man who bought it, + and we are all to go out there this spring.” + </p> + <p> + “Heavens! That means frogs and crickets and whippoorwills, and a lonesome + time for me.” + </p> + <p> + “But think of Father!” said Hattie with her most virtuous air. “If it's + perfectly quiet, perhaps he can finish his book.” + </p> + <p> + “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?” + </p> + <p> + 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. + </p> + <p> + 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. + </p> + <p> + “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.” + </p> + <p> + “I can't 'row' people, Myrtella; I don't know how,” said Miss Lady + listlessly. + </p> + <p> + “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!” + </p> + <p> + “I think I'll send you to the grocery to-day, Myrtella,—it—it + may rain.” + </p> + <p> + “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.” + </p> + <p> + Miss Lady shook her head. + </p> + <p> + “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.” + </p> + <p> + 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. + </p> + <p> + “Bertie, darling! Please don't,” cried Miss Lady roused from her apathy. + “Remember it's Saturday and Father's home.” + </p> + <p> + “I wish he wasn't,” said Bertie. “I hate a tiptoe house! When can I call + extras?” + </p> + <p> + “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.” + </p> + <p> + “And can Chick be there, too?” + </p> + <p> + “Yes, and perhaps by that time Chick will have been to the hospital and + can talk like other boys.” + </p> + <p> + Bertie was standing on the back of her chair by this time, apparently + trying to strangle her. + </p> + <p> + “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?” + </p> + <p> + “Listen!” cried Miss Lady suddenly starting up. “What is that?” + </p> + <p> + From the far end of the street came the sound, “Wuxtry! Here's your + Wuxtry! All about—” + </p> + <p> + “It's just the newsboy I was being like,” said Bertie. “What's the matter? + What makes you shake so, Miss Lady?” + </p> + <p> + Myrtella thrust her head in the door. “Here comes that there Mrs. Ivy + running 'cross the yard. She's good fer a hour.” + </p> + <p> + 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. + </p> + <p> + “Oh, my <i>dear</i>!” she managed to gasp. “Such a frightful shock! So + utterly unexpected!” + </p> + <p> + “Do you mean Don?” Miss Lady's lips scarcely moved as she asked the + question. + </p> + <p> + “No, the bank! I was all alone in the house when I heard the boys calling + the extras—Ah! my poor weak heart!” + </p> + <p> + “Brandy?” suggested Miss Lady anxiously. + </p> + <p> + 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?” + </p> + <p> + 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. + </p> + <p> + “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!” + </p> + <p> + “I suppose Father's lost awfully,” said Hattie, sitting round eyed and + anxious on the steps. + </p> + <p> + “And all the Sequins, and Don,” added Connie. + </p> + <p> + “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.” + </p> + <p> + 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. + </p> + <p> + 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. + </p> + <p> + “Doctor!” Miss Lady burst out impetuously, “the Bank has failed—the + paper says—” + </p> + <p> + “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.” + </p> + <p> + 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. + </p> + <p> + “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!” + </p> + <p> + <br /><br /> + </p> + <hr /> + <p> + <a name="link2HCH0022" id="link2HCH0022"> </a> + </p> + <div style="height: 4em;"> + <br /><br /><br /><br /> + </div> + <h2> + CHAPTER XXII + </h2> + <p> + 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. + </p> + <p> + 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. + </p> + <p> + 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. + </p> + <p> + 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. + </p> + <p> + 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.” + </p> + <p> + 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. + </p> + <p> + 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. + </p> + <p> + 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. + </p> + <p> + 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. + </p> + <p> + 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. + </p> + <p> + As he reached Thornwood's big colonial gateway, he found some one + alighting from a buggy. + </p> + <p> + “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. + </p> + <p> + “I am staying in town,” he said distantly “Are you coming in here?” + </p> + <p> + “Yes, I think I will drop in for a little while, unless you have an + engagement?” + </p> + <p> + Noah's pause was even longer than usual. “No,” he drawled presently. “I + can't say I have. Will you get in?” + </p> + <p> + Donald could not suppress a smile as he got in beside him, and noticed the + grandeur of his toilet. + </p> + <p> + “You are getting awfully dressy these days, old chap. Who's the girl?” + </p> + <p> + “You know who it is.” + </p> + <p> + “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.”, + </p> + <p> + Noah's lip stiffened. “If you would leave her alone perhaps she might.” + </p> + <p> + “What am I doing?” + </p> + <p> + “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.” + </p> + <p> + Donald looked in amazement at the angry face beside him. + </p> + <p> + “What in thunder do you mean by that, Wick?” + </p> + <p> + “What I say. I guess it hasn't been so long ago that we've both forgotten + another instance.” + </p> + <p> + “See here, Wick,” said Donald, his anger rising, “you'd better drop this. + You don't know what you are talking about.” + </p> + <p> + “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—” + </p> + <p> + “I promise you nothing.” + </p> + <p> + 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. + </p> + <p> + “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!” + </p> + <p> + “Cheer up! He's hitching his horse at the block now.” + </p> + <p> + “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!” + </p> + <p> + “You haven't missed anything, Connie. I've been down and out.” + </p> + <p> + “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.” + </p> + <p> + “Who is the Turtle?” + </p> + <p> + “Mr. Wicker. Hat calls him that, because he never lets go 'til it + thunders. Aren't you coming in the parlor?” + </p> + <p> + “No, I'll give Wick the field to-night. I want to see your Father on + business.” + </p> + <p> + “That sounds interesting!” said Connie audaciously. “You might have spoken + to me first!” + </p> + <p> + 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. + </p> + <p> + “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. + </p> + <p> + “I was going to get your beef-tea.” + </p> + <p> + “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?” + </p> + <p> + 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.” + </p> + <p> + “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?” + </p> + <p> + “It has been refused.” + </p> + <p> + “Indeed! And you appeal it, of course?” + </p> + <p> + “Yes.” + </p> + <p> + “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?” + </p> + <p> + 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. + </p> + <p> + 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. + </p> + <p> + “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!” + </p> + <p> + 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. + </p> + <p> + 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. + </p> + <p> + Two pairs of eyes met involuntarily, and the owners smiled. + </p> + <p> + “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.” + </p> + <p> + Donald winced. “On account of the bank failure, I suppose?” + </p> + <p> + “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.” + </p> + <p> + “I hope you were not seriously involved, Doctor?” + </p> + <p> + “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?” + </p> + <p> + “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.” + </p> + <p> + 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. + </p> + <p> + “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.” + </p> + <p> + “That was fortunate.” + </p> + <p> + “But, Doctor! Don't you see? At the time I sold the shares they weren't + worth the paper they were printed on!” + </p> + <p> + “But you were ignorant of this.” + </p> + <p> + “Of course; but does that alter the fact that I took money for stock that + was worthless?” + </p> + <p> + 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. + </p> + <p> + “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?” + </p> + <p> + “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.” + </p> + <p> + “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.” + </p> + <p> + “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.” + </p> + <p> + “Who sold her the stock?” + </p> + <p> + “A broker named Gilson.” + </p> + <p> + “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!” + </p> + <p> + “Will it take all you have?” Miss Lady scanned his face anxiously. + </p> + <p> + “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.” + </p> + <p> + “Your sister, of course, will be ready to help you. Or has she, too, + lost?” + </p> + <p> + “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.” + </p> + <p> + “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.” + </p> + <p> + 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.” + </p> + <p> + 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. + </p> + <p> + “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.” + </p> + <p> + 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. + </p> + <p> + “I'll call Connie,” Miss Lady said, moving to the door. + </p> + <p> + “Just a minute, please.” + </p> + <p> + She came back reluctantly, and stood with her hands clasped on the back of + a chair, breathing quickly. + </p> + <p> + “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.” + </p> + <p> + “No, you haven't! There are other ways. You must go to work.” + </p> + <p> + “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, <i>sixty</i> + 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!” + </p> + <p> + “But that's all behind you, Don! You've got the rest of your life to live + differently. When the case is decided—” + </p> + <p> + “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.” + </p> + <p> + “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?” + </p> + <p> + His eyes flew to hers as he half knelt on the chair before her. + </p> + <p> + “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?” + </p> + <p> + 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?” + </p> + <p> + The color left her face, and her eyes wavered a moment, then steadied. + </p> + <p> + “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?” + </p> + <p> + 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. + </p> + <p> + “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?” + </p> + <p> + “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?” + </p> + <p> + {Illustration: “It was a great wrong I did you Don, can you forgive me?"} + </p> + <p> + 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. + </p> + <p> + 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. + </p> + <p> + <br /><br /> + </p> + <hr /> + <p> + <a name="link2HCH0023" id="link2HCH0023"> </a> + </p> + <div style="height: 4em;"> + <br /><br /><br /><br /> + </div> + <h2> + CHAPTER XXIII + </h2> + <p> + 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. + </p> + <p> + 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. + </p> + <p> + 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. + </p> + <p> + 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. + </p> + <p> + A light step on the stairs sent the mirror into the desk, and brought a + look of absorbed concentration to his expansive brow. + </p> + <p> + “Is Mr. Gooch here?” asked Connie Queerington, thrusting a plumed hat into + his range of vision. + </p> + <p> + Noah disengaged himself from the stool and came forward eagerly, but + paused when he found that she was not alone. + </p> + <p> + “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?” + </p> + <p> + Noah bowed gravely, and after bringing forward chairs, retired to his + desk, in a state of outward calm and inward wrath. + </p> + <p> + 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. + </p> + <p> + “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?” + </p> + <p> + “Four o'clock,” said Gerald, then glancing at the clock, “it's only + three-thirty now.” + </p> + <p> + “The clock is slow,” announced Noah unexpectedly from his corner. + </p> + <p> + 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. + </p> + <p> + “Why should I?” asked Connie archly. “You haven't been near me since I + went to the country.” + </p> + <p> + “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!” + </p> + <p> + “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?” + </p> + <p> + 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. + </p> + <p> + Gerald took advantage of the mishap to get Connie over to the window. + </p> + <p> + “It's beastly lonesome without you,” he whispered. “When are you coming + home?” + </p> + <p> + “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.” + </p> + <p> + “Don't you miss me a little bit?” asked Gerald, playing with the silver + purse on her wrist. + </p> + <p> + “Of course I do, silly. Is my hat on straight? I wish I had a mirror.” + </p> + <p> + Noah kneeling on the floor, mopping up the ink, reached toward the desk, + and then paused. + </p> + <p> + “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. + </p> + <p> + “City Hall clock's striking four,” said Noah grimly. + </p> + <p> + 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. + </p> + <p> + “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?” + </p> + <p> + “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?” + </p> + <p> + “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. + </p> + <p> + “Stuffy old place!” said Connie, wandering about the room. “If Mr. Gooch + wasn't so stingy he'd have it cleaned up.” + </p> + <p> + “I wouldn't call a man stingy who had given a library to the law school,” + Hattie objected. + </p> + <p> + “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!” + </p> + <p> + “I don't think it's stingy to be economical,” Hattie said with her most + superior air. + </p> + <p> + 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. + </p> + <p> + “Besides,” Connie was saying conclusively, “he cheats at cards; you know + he does.” + </p> + <p> + “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!” + </p> + <p> + “How do you do, Harriet?” said Mr. Gooch dryly, entering from the outer + room and not glancing at Connie. “A message from your father?” + </p> + <p> + Connie slipped the note into Hattie's hand and took refuge with Noah + behind the desk top. + </p> + <p> + “Did he hear?” she whispered hysterically. Then not waiting for a reply + she pounced upon an object in the desk. “Is that a mirror?” + </p> + <p> + Noah shamefacedly produced it. + </p> + <p> + “Hold it for me,” she commanded. “Not so far off. Like that!” + </p> + <p> + Standing there behind the desk holding his little mirror for her to powder + her nose seemed to Noah the apotheosis of romance. + </p> + <p> + “Too much?” she asked, tilting her face for inspection. “And is my hat + right? I want to look my best, because you know I <i>may</i> meet Donald + Morley on the steps.” + </p> + <p> + 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. + </p> + <p> + “Hello, Wick. Is Mr. Gooch here?” + </p> + <p> + “He was a minute ago.” + </p> + <p> + “Is he coming back?” + </p> + <p> + “I don't know, I'm sure.” + </p> + <p> + 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. + </p> + <p> + “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?” + </p> + <p> + “It is. It was the only honest thing I could do.” + </p> + <p> + “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?” + </p> + <p> + “Yes, I know,” Donald flung out impatiently. + </p> + <p> + “You are singularly fortunate, Mr. Morley, to be able to indulge these + magnanimous whims. Your resources I presume—” + </p> + <p> + “My resources consist in a piece of real estate and a couple of race + horses. That's about all that's left.” + </p> + <p> + “The real estate?” Mr. Gooch looked encouraged. “City property?” + </p> + <p> + “No, it's a farm.” + </p> + <p> + “Where?” + </p> + <p> + “On the Cane Run Road.” + </p> + <p> + 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. + </p> + <p> + “Adjoining your sister's property, I judge?” continued Mr. Gooch. “That's + good, very good. It ought to bring about—?” + </p> + <p> + “It's not for sale,” said Donald shortly. + </p> + <p> + Mr. Gooch, who had emerged to the rim of his shell, promptly went in + again. + </p> + <p> + “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?” + </p> + <p> + 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.” + </p> + <p> + “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 <i>Herald-Post</i> 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.” + </p> + <p> + “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.” + </p> + <p> + “Very well,” said Donald, rising with spirit. “That means that I'll have + to get another lawyer.” + </p> + <p> + “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.” + </p> + <p> + “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?” + </p> + <p> + “But you still hold property!” + </p> + <p> + “I do, Mr. Gooch, and for reasons you could never understand I shall + continue to hold it. Good day.” + </p> + <p> + “Stop a minute!” Noah Wicker unfolded himself in sections, and got to his + feet. + </p> + <p> + “Suppose you let me take your case.” + </p> + <p> + Donald and Mr. Gooch looked at him with equal amazement. + </p> + <p> + “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?” + </p> + <p> + Donald hesitated for a moment, glancing from Noah's honest, homely face to + Mr. Gooch's sneering one, then he jumped to a decision. + </p> + <p> + “It's a go, Wick! And the fee—” + </p> + <p> + Noah extended a hand, the breadth of whose palm has already been commented + upon. + </p> + <p> + “The fee be damned,” he drawled. + </p> + <p> + <br /><br /> + </p> + <hr /> + <p> + <a name="link2HCH0024" id="link2HCH0024"> </a> + </p> + <div style="height: 4em;"> + <br /><br /><br /><br /> + </div> + <h2> + CHAPTER XXIV + </h2> + <p> + Donald Morley packed his few belongings and went on his small mission for + the <i>Herald-Post</i> 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. + </p> + <p> + 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. + </p> + <p> + 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 <i>Herald-Post</i> 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. + </p> + <p> + 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. + </p> + <p> + 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. + </p> + <p> + 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. + </p> + <p> + 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. + </p> + <p> + 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. + </p> + <p> + 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. + </p> + <p> + 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. + </p> + <p> + 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. + </p> + <p> + 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? + </p> + <p> + 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. + </p> + <p> + 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. + </p> + <p> + “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?” + </p> + <p> + 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. + </p> + <p> + 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. + </p> + <p> + There was the dashing signature, the ink still wet on the flourish, + </p> + <p> + “La Florine.” + </p> + <p> + 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. + </p> + <p> + 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? + </p> + <p> + 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? + </p> + <p> + 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. + </p> + <p> + 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. + </p> + <p> + 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. + </p> + <p> + 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. + </p> + <p> + 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. + </p> + <p> + 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. + </p> + <p> + 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. + </p> + <p> + Yes, most certainly, the writing of the novel <i>did</i> 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. + </p> + <p> + 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. + </p> + <p> + 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. + </p> + <p> + Noah had gone to bed, but he was unceremoniously routed out. + </p> + <p> + “Read that!” shouted Don, thrusting his hand in his pocket and pulling out + an envelope. + </p> + <p> + “It isn't opened,” said Noah, yawning; then recognizing Connie + Queerington's handwriting he suddenly woke up. + </p> + <p> + “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!” + </p> + <p> + Noah read the note, then returned it calmly. + </p> + <p> + “It's encouraging, I congratulate you,” he observed laconically. + </p> + <p> + Donald's face clouded, then cleared and he stepped forward impulsively: + </p> + <p> + “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.” + </p> + <p> + “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.” + </p> + <p> + “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.” + </p> + <p> + “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.” + </p> + <p> + 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.” + </p> + <p> + Donald got up from the foot of the bed where he had been sitting, and took + Noah by the shoulders. + </p> + <p> + “You've been working like a dog on my case, old fellow. Suppose you let me + take charge of yours?” + </p> + <p> + “How do you mean?” + </p> + <p> + “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.” + </p> + <p> + “But—but you?” + </p> + <p> + “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.” + </p> + <p> + “Perhaps Miss Connie—” + </p> + <p> + “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.” + </p> + <p> + Noah rubbed his massive and bewildered brow. “It's too complicated for + me,” he said; “I guess I'll have to accept your services.” + </p> + <p> + 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. + </p> + <p> + It was a blotted and incoherent scrawl. + </p> + <p> + “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 <i>can't</i> 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. + </p> + <p> + “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. + </p> + <p> + “Your loving cousin, + </p> + <h3> + “CONSTANCE QUEERINGTON. + </h3> + <p> + “P. S. Please tell Mr. Wicker—I'd rather die than write another + letter.” + </p> + <p> + <br /><br /> + </p> + <hr /> + <p> + <a name="link2HCH0025" id="link2HCH0025"> </a> + </p> + <div style="height: 4em;"> + <br /><br /><br /><br /> + </div> + <h2> + CHAPTER XXV + </h2> + <p> + 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. + </p> + <p> + 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. + </p> + <p> + 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. + </p> + <p> + 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. + </p> + <p> + “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?” + </p> + <p> + “<i>I</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.” + </p> + <p> + “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.” + </p> + <p> + “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.” + </p> + <p> + “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.” + </p> + <p> + “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!” + </p> + <p> + “Has your brother lost his good place?” Miss Lady asked. + </p> + <p> + “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.” + </p> + <p> + “What's the matter with Chick?” + </p> + <p> + “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?” + </p> + <p> + Miss Lady's quick, eager sympathy leapt into her face. + </p> + <p> + “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. + </p> + <p> + “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.” + </p> + <p> + 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. + </p> + <p> + “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.” + </p> + <p> + “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!” + </p> + <p> + “No, Myrtella; we are going to try to do the work ourselves.” + </p> + <p> + “You mean <i>you</i> 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?” + </p> + <p> + “It went to pay the debts and to carry out the Doctor's wishes.” + </p> + <p> + “'Bout printin' all them books he wrote over again, an' bringin' 'em out + in the same kind of covers?” + </p> + <p> + “Yes.” + </p> + <p> + “How many was there, in all?” + </p> + <p> + “Twenty.” + </p> + <p> + 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. + </p> + <p> + “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.” + </p> + <p> + Myrtella wheeled in the doorway, her face purple with anger: + </p> + <p> + “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!” + </p> + <p> + “But what can we do, Myrtella? I tell you the money is giving out!” + </p> + <p> + “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.” + </p> + <p> + “Why, Mrs. Ivy and Gerald wanted to come that way, but I laughed at them. + Besides I don't know about Gerald—” + </p> + <p> + “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!” + </p> + <p> + “And perhaps Mr. Gooch would come.” + </p> + <p> + “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.” + </p> + <p> + 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. + </p> + <p> + 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. + </p> + <p> + 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. + </p> + <p> + “We's helpin' Miss Lady git a start,” he would say proudly again and + again, “an' then maybe she git married some more.” + </p> + <p> + “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?” + </p> + <p> + “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.” + </p> + <p> + “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.” + </p> + <p> + “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!” + </p> + <p> + <br /><br /> + </p> + <hr /> + <p> + <a name="link2HCH0026" id="link2HCH0026"> </a> + </p> + <div style="height: 4em;"> + <br /><br /><br /><br /> + </div> + <h2> + CHAPTER XXVI + </h2> + <p> + “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!” + </p> + <p> + “A book!” echoed Mrs. Ivy incredulously, then, + </p> + <p> + “Ah, my dear, do get off that vicious beast; I haven't had a moment's + peace since Mr. Wicker sent him over!” + </p> + <p> + 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. + </p> + <p> + 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. + </p> + <p> + “I suppose you know that supper is over,” said Mrs. Ivy, with veiled + reproach. “Were there no letters for me?” + </p> + <p> + “Oh, dear, how stupid of me. I forgot to look through the rest of the + mail. Here it is.” + </p> + <p> + Mrs. Ivy sorted out her own official-looking budget, then peered closely + at the two remaining envelopes. + </p> + <p> + “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.” + </p> + <p> + “But what of it, Mrs. Ivy?” + </p> + <p> + “My <i>dear</i>,” Mrs. Ivy breathed, “don't you see they are from Mr. + Morley?” + </p> + <p> + “Yes; but I have one from him, too; he's telling us about his book.” + </p> + <p> + 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.” + </p> + <p> + “But Mrs. Ivy, he—he is her cousin; he looks upon her as a child.” + </p> + <p> + “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.” + </p> + <p> + “I don't think there is any danger,” said Miss Lady critically examining + the tip of Prince's nose. + </p> + <p> + “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.” + </p> + <p> + In an instant Miss Lady had wheeled with flashing eyes: + </p> + <p> + “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!” + </p> + <p> + And without waiting for an answer she drew the bridle over her arm and + tramped indignantly off to the stable. + </p> + <p> + Mrs. Ivy sighed, then turned to join Mr. Gooch who had just come out on + the porch. + </p> + <p> + “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.” + </p> + <p> + “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.” + </p> + <p> + 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. + </p> + <p> + “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.” + </p> + <p> + “Good Lord, no,” said Mr. Gooch testily. + </p> + <p> + “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.” + </p> + <p> + “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. + </p> + <p> + “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.” + </p> + <p> + “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.” + </p> + <p> + “What is this latest tomfoolery about a kindergarten?” + </p> + <p> + “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!” + </p> + <p> + “Well, they needn't come to me for a contribution,” said Mr. Gooch. “I + don't believe in kindergartens.” + </p> + <p> + 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. + </p> + <p> + “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?” + </p> + <p> + “I know He will, Bert. Take off your other shoe.” + </p> + <p> + “Why didn't He give Chick something to say?” + </p> + <p> + “He did, but Chick's throat won't let the words come through. Step out of + your clothes now, hurry up, Buddikin!” + </p> + <p> + But Bert's feet were firmly planted, and his sleepy eyes fixed in + philosophic musings: + </p> + <p> + “If He had all kinds of throats I don't see why He didn't give Chick a + good one.” + </p> + <p> + This required elucidation, and Miss Lady attempted to make the matter + clear while extricating the small boy from his clothes. + </p> + <p> + “Ain't you going to tell me a story?” + </p> + <p> + “Not to-night, Bert. I'm so tired; all the stories have run out.” + </p> + <p> + Bert crawled into his bed silently, and lay watching the shadows in the + big tree outside. + </p> + <p> + “I wish Cousin Don was here,” he sighed. “He never does run out of + stories. When is he coming back?” + </p> + <p> + “I don't know, dear. Shut your eyes now, and go to sleep.” + </p> + <p> + He shut his eyes obediently, but continued the conversation drowsily, + </p> + <p> + “He knows all about whales and tigers, and big ships and elephants. He's—been—clear—around—the—earth—” + </p> + <p> + 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. + </p> + <p> + 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. + </p> + <p> + 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! + </p> + <p> + 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. + </p> + <p> + “Miss Lady!” she called softly. “Aren't you coming down again?” + </p> + <p> + “No, I'm going to bed.” + </p> + <p> + “Don't go yet. I'm coming up. I want to tell you something.” + </p> + <p> + A moment later Connie opened the door, and closed it carefully behind her. + </p> + <p> + “Is Bertie asleep?” + </p> + <p> + “Yes.” + </p> + <p> + “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.” + </p> + <p> + “Of course he won't, I doubt if he has ever seen one. What's his trouble?” + </p> + <p> + “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!” + </p> + <p> + “But, Connie, you were so crazy about him, you wouldn't listen to a word + against him.” + </p> + <p> + “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.” + </p> + <p> + Miss Lady patted the heaving shoulders, but said nothing. + </p> + <p> + “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!” + </p> + <p> + “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?” + </p> + <p> + Connie's blue eyes, never very steadfast, shifted uneasily, and Miss Lady + went on earnestly: + </p> + <p> + “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?” + </p> + <p> + “But he does!” burst out Connie indignantly; “he cares for me more than + for anybody in the world!” + </p> + <p> + “How do you know?” + </p> + <p> + “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?” + </p> + <p> + Miss Lady looked at her strangely. + </p> + <p> + “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?” + </p> + <p> + Twice Miss Lady tried to speak before the words would come, then: + </p> + <p> + “Yes,” she whispered almost breathlessly, “yes, I promise to stand by you,—and + by him.” + </p> + <p> + 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. + </p> + <p> + “Daddy!” she whispered in terror, “Daddy help me!” + </p> + <p> + 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. + </p> + <p> + <br /><br /> + </p> + <hr /> + <p> + <a name="link2HCH0027" id="link2HCH0027"> </a> + </p> + <div style="height: 4em;"> + <br /><br /><br /><br /> + </div> + <h2> + CHAPTER XXVII + </h2> + <p> + 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.” + </p> + <p> + 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. + </p> + <p> + 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: + </p> + <p> + “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.” + </p> + <p> + This diverted Chick marvelously. The thought of Skeeter having to spend + the morning in the schoolroom, made his own lot less hard. + </p> + <p> + “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. + </p> + <p> + Then the big doctor, who had brought him there, appeared at the foot of + his bed. + </p> + <p> + “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?” + </p> + <p> + She shook her head. “I'm all right, but what about your patient?” + </p> + <p> + 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?” + </p> + <p> + “No, except this foster-aunt who supports him. Myrtella!” + </p> + <p> + But Myrtella had turned her back at sight of the doctor, and refused to + look up. + </p> + <p> + 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: + </p> + <p> + “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?” + </p> + <p> + “November the sixth.” + </p> + <p> + “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.” + </p> + <p> + “Don't try to get up!” admonished the nurse to Chick; “I'll lift you + over.” + </p> + <p> + 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. + </p> + <p> + “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!” + </p> + <p> + 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. + </p> + <p> + 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—!” + </p> + <p> + The stretcher was shoved hastily into the elevator and the door closed on + everybody but Chick and the nurse and the orderly. + </p> + <p> + 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. + </p> + <p> + “Here we are!” she cried soothingly, as the elevator came to a halt. “And + here's Dr. Wyeth waiting for us.” + </p> + <p> + “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?” + </p> + <p> + Chick, trying very hard to keep his knees from shaking the sheet, nodded + emphatically. + </p> + <p> + “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?” + </p> + <p> + Chick's sudden, toothless smile revealed the futility of this question. + </p> + <p> + “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!” + </p> + <p> + 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. + </p> + <p> + 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. + </p> + <p> + 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. + </p> + <p> + “That's him!” cried Myrtella hysterically as one of these cries reached + her. + </p> + <p> + “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.” + </p> + <p> + 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?” + </p> + <p> + “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.” + </p> + <p> + “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?” + </p> + <p> + Miss Lady looked at her with amazement, and shrank instinctively from the + desperate, defiant woman. + </p> + <p> + “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?” + </p> + <p> + “They will be down very soon now, Myrtella. Don't tear your handkerchief + like that. Here, take mine.” + </p> + <p> + But Myrtella's eyes were too full of terror for tears; she sat with her + hands locked about her knees swaying to and fro. + </p> + <p> + “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!” + </p> + <p> + “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.” + </p> + <p> + Myrtella's head had sunken on her knees, and her coarse, work-hardened + hands were clinging to Miss Lady's slender ones. + </p> + <p> + 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. + </p> + <p> + “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!” + </p> + <p> + 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. + </p> + <p> + “Loosen her collar,” directed Dr. Wyeth, “and bring me some ice water. + There! She'll come around in a minute.” + </p> + <p> + He knelt beside her with his hand on her pulse, looking at her curiously. + Then he turned to Miss Lady: + </p> + <p> + “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.” + </p> + <p> + <br /><br /> + </p> + <hr /> + <p> + <a name="link2HCH0028" id="link2HCH0028"> </a> + </p> + <div style="height: 4em;"> + <br /><br /><br /><br /> + </div> + <h2> + CHAPTER XXVIII + </h2> + <p> + 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. + </p> + <p> + 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. + </p> + <p> + 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. + </p> + <p> + 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. + </p> + <p> + 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. + </p> + <p> + 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? + </p> + <p> + 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. + </p> + <p> + “'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.” + </p> + <p> + “Then we'll have to drive to town. Hitch up as quickly as you can!” + </p> + <p> + “But, Miss Lady, Honey, you fergit de sleet! Ole John 'ud slide 'round de + road lak a fly on a bald spot.” + </p> + <p> + “No matter! I'm going. Hurry!” + </p> + <p> + Myrtella, who was fashioning a dough man, under the personal supervision + of Bert, looked up indignantly: + </p> + <p> + “You don't think you are going out in this storm without no lunch, do + you?” + </p> + <p> + “I can't eat anything, I'm not hungry.” + </p> + <p> + “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.” + </p> + <p> + “Go on with the story, 'Telia,” demanded Bertie, carefully bestowing a + nose on the dough man. + </p> + <p> + “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?” + </p> + <p> + “What?” demanded Bertie as breathlessly as if he hadn't heard the story a + dozen times. + </p> + <p> + “'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. + </p> + <p> + “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. + </p> + <p> + “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.” + </p> + <p> + “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.” + </p> + <p> + “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?” + </p> + <p> + 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?” + </p> + <p> + <br /><br /> + </p> + <hr /> + <p> + <a name="link2HCH0029" id="link2HCH0029"> </a> + </p> + <div style="height: 4em;"> + <br /><br /><br /><br /> + </div> + <h2> + CHAPTER XXIX + </h2> + <p> + 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. + </p> + <p> + 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. + </p> + <p> + 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. + </p> + <p> + “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.” + </p> + <p> + “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.” + </p> + <p> + “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'?” + </p> + <p> + Miss Lady shook her head, and leaned wearily against the mantel. + </p> + <p> + “I'll be all right. Are you sure about the trains?” + </p> + <p> + “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?” + </p> + <p> + “I hadn't thought about it.” + </p> + <p> + “Well, you see it's her birthday, an' tor<i>m</i>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!” + </p> + <p> + “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.” + </p> + <p> + “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.” + </p> + <p> + “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. + </p> + <p> + “One o'clock! Holy Moses! I must be hiking, if I want to hear the rest of + the trial.” + </p> + <p> + “The trial?” repeated Miss Lady instantly alert; “were you at the + courthouse this morning?” + </p> + <p> + “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!'” + </p> + <p> + “But when you left,” urged Miss Lady, “what were they doing? How did + people feel about it?” + </p> + <p> + “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!” + </p> + <p> + “But can't they get the truth out of Sheeley? Can't they force him to tell + what happened?” + </p> + <p> + 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.” + </p> + <p> + “It's a lie! He wuz!” Chick had risen from his pillow, and was leaning + forward excitedly. + </p> + <p> + “What do you mean, Chick? How do you know?” + </p> + <p> + “He <i>wuz</i> 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.” + </p> + <p> + “But how do you know all this, Chick?” cried Miss Lady almost fiercely; + “did the Sheeley boy tell you?” + </p> + <p> + “Skeeter? Shucks, he don't know nothin' 'ceptin' what his paw tole him.” + </p> + <p> + “But who told you?” + </p> + <p> + Chick closed his lips and shook his head: “He'll set the cop on me.” + </p> + <p> + “Who?” + </p> + <p> + “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. + </p> + <p> + “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?” + </p> + <p> + “'Cause,” said Chick fearfully, “I—I seen it!” + </p> + <p> + “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. + </p> + <p> + “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.” + </p> + <p> + “Yes, yes!” pressed Miss Lady; “go on.” + </p> + <p> + “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.” + </p> + <p> + “Would you know the Big One again? Oh, Chick, try to remember what he + looked like!” + </p> + <p> + 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.” + </p> + <p> + 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.” + </p> + <p> + “But the train—” began Phineas. + </p> + <p> + “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.” + </p> + <p> + {Illustration: “Tell me quick! How do you know about the shooting?"} + </p> + <p> + 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. + </p> + <p> + 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. + </p> + <p> + “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!” + </p> + <p> + 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. + </p> + <p> + “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.” + </p> + <p> + “'Bout the slot machine?” queried an anxious voice from the blankets. + </p> + <p> + “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.” + </p> + <p> + 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. + </p> + <p> + “Faster, Mr. Flathers, drive faster!” implored Miss Lady. + </p> + <p> + 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. + </p> + <p> + At last the dark courthouse loomed up ahead of them, and Phineas rounding + a curb by a fraction, dashed for the open square. + </p> + <p> + “Morley case gone to the jury?” he hung half out of the wagon to shout to + a man coming down the wide steps. + </p> + <p> + “Not yet.” + </p> + <p> + Miss Lady was already frantically pulling the blankets from the submerged + Chick. + </p> + <p> + “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.” + </p> + <p> + 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. + </p> + <p> + “Chick!” cried Miss Lady despairingly. “You aren't going to fail me—you + are going to stand by me, aren't you?” + </p> + <p> + 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. + </p> + <p> + “Sure!” he said resolutely. + </p> + <p> + <br /><br /> + </p> + <hr /> + <p> + <a name="link2HCH0030" id="link2HCH0030"> </a> + </p> + <div style="height: 4em;"> + <br /><br /><br /><br /> + </div> + <h2> + CHAPTER XXX + </h2> + <p> + “One! two! three! four!” + </p> + <p> + 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. + </p> + <p> + 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. + </p> + <p> + “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!” + </p> + <p> + Miss Lady could not look, the grip at her throat was tightening and a dull + roar sounded in her ears. + </p> + <p> + “But if he loses, Connie? If he loses, what then?” + </p> + <p> + “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!” + </p> + <p> + Miss Lady followed Connie's adoring gaze until it rested on the stern, + earnest face of Noah Wicker, then the truth rushed upon her. + </p> + <p> + 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. + </p> + <p> + 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. + </p> + <p> + “Are you a member of Mr. Morley's family?” asked the deputy sheriff. + </p> + <p> + “No,” said Miss Lady, brushing him aside, “but I'm going to be.” + </p> + <p> + <br /><br /> + </p> + <hr /> + <p> + <a name="link2HCH0031" id="link2HCH0031"> </a> + </p> + <div style="height: 4em;"> + <br /><br /><br /><br /> + </div> + <h2> + CHAPTER XXXI + </h2> + <p> + 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. + </p> + <p> + “I could scarcely believe my eyes,” murmured Mrs. Ivy, “when at the + verdict,' Not Guilty,' I saw her fling her arms about his neck!” + </p> + <p> + “Why surprised?” snapped the attorney. “Aren't women born fatuous?” + </p> + <p> + “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?” + </p> + <p> + Gerald, sitting on a hassock before the fire with hands clasped about his + knees, looked up with shining eyes: + </p> + <p> + “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—“, + </p> + <p> + “But the dear, dear Doctor,” interrupted Mrs. Ivy, “laid away only seven + months ago!” + </p> + <p> + “Six months and three weeks,” corrected Mr. Gooch testily. + </p> + <h3> + THE END + </h3> + <div style="height: 6em;"> + <br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /> + </div> +<pre xml:space="preserve"> + + + + + +End of Project Gutenberg's A Romance of Billy-Goat Hill, by Alice Hegan Rice + +*** END OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK A ROMANCE OF BILLY-GOAT HILL *** + +***** This file should be named 6635-h.htm or 6635-h.zip ***** +This and all associated files of various formats will be found in: + http://www.gutenberg.org/6/6/3/6635/ + + +Text file produced by Phil McLaury, Juliet Sutherland,Charles Franks +and the Online Distributed Proofreading Team + +HTML file produced by David Widger + + +Updated editions will replace the previous one--the old editions +will be renamed. + +Creating the works from public domain print editions means that no +one owns a United States copyright in these works, so the Foundation +(and you!) can copy and distribute it in the United States without +permission and without paying copyright royalties. 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You may copy it, give it away or +re-use it under the terms of the Project Gutenberg License included +with this eBook or online at www.gutenberg.org + + +Title: A Romance of Billy-Goat Hill + +Author: Alice Hegan Rice + + +Release Date: October, 2004 [EBook #6635] +This file was first posted on January 7, 2003 +Last Updated: June 16, 2013 + +Language: English + +Character set encoding: ASCII + +*** START OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK A ROMANCE OF BILLY-GOAT HILL *** + + + + +Produced by Phil McLaury, Juliet Sutherland,Charles Franks +and the Online Distributed Proofreading Team + + + + + + + + +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 + + +[Illustration: "Do you believe in love, Doctor?"] + + + +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 Project Gutenberg's A Romance of Billy-Goat Hill, by Alice Hegan Rice + +*** END OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK A ROMANCE OF BILLY-GOAT HILL *** + +***** This file should be named 6635.txt or 6635.zip ***** +This and all associated files of various formats will be found in: + http://www.gutenberg.org/6/6/3/6635/ + +Produced by Phil McLaury, Juliet Sutherland,Charles Franks +and the Online Distributed Proofreading Team + + +Updated editions will replace the previous one--the old editions +will be renamed. + +Creating the works from public domain print editions means that no +one owns a United States copyright in these works, so the Foundation +(and you!) can copy and distribute it in the United States without +permission and without paying copyright royalties. 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You can also find out about how to make a +donation to Project Gutenberg, and how to get involved. + + +**Welcome To The World of Free Plain Vanilla Electronic Texts** + +**eBooks Readable By Both Humans and By Computers, Since 1971** + +*****These eBooks Were Prepared By Thousands of Volunteers!***** + + +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 *** + +This file should be named arbgh10.txt or arbgh10.zip +Corrected EDITIONS of our eBooks get a new NUMBER, arbgh11.txt +VERSIONS based on separate sources get new LETTER, arbgh10a.txt + +Project Gutenberg eBooks are often created from several printed +editions, all of which are confirmed as Public Domain in the US +unless a copyright notice is included. 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