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diff --git a/7424.txt b/7424.txt new file mode 100644 index 0000000..f207689 --- /dev/null +++ b/7424.txt @@ -0,0 +1,8869 @@ +The Project Gutenberg EBook of The Wishing-Ring Man, by Margaret Widdemer + +This eBook is for the use of anyone anywhere at no cost and with +almost no restrictions whatsoever. You may copy it, give it away or +re-use it under the terms of the Project Gutenberg License included +with this eBook or online at www.gutenberg.org + + +Title: The Wishing-Ring Man + +Author: Margaret Widdemer + +Posting Date: March 24, 2014 [EBook #7424] +Release Date: February, 2005 +First Posted: April 28, 2003 + +Language: English + +Character set encoding: ASCII + +*** START OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK THE WISHING-RING MAN *** + + + + +Produced by Eric Eldred, David Garcia, Charles Franks and +the Online Distributed Proofreading Team. + + + + + + + + + + + +[Illustration: He was fairly content with what he saw in her face.] + + + + + +The Wishing-Ring Man + +By MARGARET WIDDEMER + + + + +TO THE MEMORY OF MY OWN GRANDFATHER + +E. S. W. + +ONE OF THE DEAREST, BEST AND KINDLIEST OF MEN + + + + + + +CONTENTS + + +CHAPTER + + I. JOY IN AMBER SATIN + + II. BY GRACE OF THE WISHING RING + + III. PHYLLIS RIDES THROUGH + + IV. THE RESCUE OF THE PRINCESS + + V. THE SHADOW OF GAIL + + VI. ROSE GARDENS AND MEN + + VII. A VERY CHARMING GENTLEMAN + + VIII. A FOUNTAIN IN FAIRYLAND + + IX. THE TANGLED WEB WE WEAVE + + X. CLARENCE SWOOPS DOWN + + XI. PIRATE COUSINS TO THE RESCUE + + XII. DINNER FOR FIVE + + XIII. THE SERIOUS BUSINESS OF "IOLANTHE" + + XIV. THE SLIGHTLY SURPRISING CLARENCE + + XV. THE GIFT OF THE RING + + + + + + +CHAPTER ONE + +JOY IN AMBER SATIN + + +Joy Havenith had no business at all to be curled up on the back +stairs under Great-Grand-Aunt Lucilla's picture. She ought to have +been sliding sweetly up and down the long double parlors with +teacups and cake, and she knew it. But she just didn't care. + +As a matter of fact, Aunt Lucilla and the other ancestors ought to +have been in the parlors, too; but Grandfather had ordained +differently. He had gobbled the parlor walls for his autographed +photograph collection, and Grandmother, long before Joy was born or +orphaned, had sorrowfully hung her ancestors-in-law out in the long, +narrow hall, where they were a tight fit. Grandfather was one of the +last survivors of the old school of American poetry. He was tall and +slender, and very gentle and nice, but he always had things the way +he said he wanted them, and he preferred his autographed friends to +his family portraits. + +"It's rather a good thing it's so dark out here, Aunt Lucilla," said +Joy to the smiling Colonial lady in the dark corner above her. "You +mayn't much like being where people can't see you--but think how +you'd feel, up garret!" + +Aunt Lucilla Havenith, red of lip, flashing of eye, blue and silver +of gown, laughed on down at her great-grand-niece, who was holding a +surreptitious little red candle up to talk to her. Aunt Lucilla, +from all accounts, had had too excellent a time in her life to mind +a little thing like being put in a back hall afterwards. She had +been a belle from her fifteenth year, eloped with her true-love at +sixteen, and gone on being a belle all the rest of her life, in the +intervals of three husbands and ever so many children. She had +managed everything and everybody she came across gaily all her life; +she had been proposed to by practically the whole Society of the +Cincinnati; and had died at eighty-three, a power and a charmer to +the last. + +"I don't think you need to mind dark corners one bit," said Joy, +tipping the candle so that the red wax dribbled down on her slim +fingers. "If Rochambeau and Lafayette and all the rest of the people +in the history-books had made a fuss over _me_--" + +Joy sat down on the stairs again, on a cushion. Nobody used the back +stairs, fine curly ones that they were, and Joy's cushion, which she +had put there on purpose to be mournful on a fortnight before, was +untouched since last time. + +Joy Havenith was nineteen, but you never would have known it. She +had been told so often by her grandparents that she was only a child +yet, that she quite believed it. No, not quite--but enough to make +her a little shy, and have almost the expression and manner still of +a little girl. She had big, black-lashed, kitten-blue eyes, scarlet +lips, and two ropes of bronze hair that she wanted very badly to put +up. It sounds like rather an exciting personality, but Joy was so +young and so shy and so obedient that she was only like a rather +small Blessed Damozel, or some other not-grown-up Rossetti person. +She knew it well, because she had been told so frequently, and she +didn't care about it at all. She leaned her head against the frame +containing Great-Grandfather John Havenith at twenty, and considered +Aunt Lucilla afresh. + +"_All_ the people in the history-books!" she said again softly, +but none the less regretfully. + +Ordinarily you couldn't ask for a dearer, sweeter child than Joy, +slipping noiselessly up and down the old house in the city, being +just as good as she knew how. She had always been told that she must +be good and obedient and affectionate, and it had never been any +trouble to her, because she was naturally that way. She lived all +alone with Grandfather and Grandmother and Elizabeth the cook, and +did just what Grandfather told her to. So did everybody else. It +wasn't that he was cross, or anything like that. He was more +charming than most people. But he was a Personage; and if you live +with a Personage your own personality gets a bit pushed into the +background, without its being anybody's fault at all. + +Joy had been perfectly happy, as far as she knew, until two weeks +before. You can be, you know, if no one tells you you aren't, +especially when you're young. + +Grandfather had Afternoons every two weeks, when he sat at the end +of the parlors in a big chair and received his admirers. In his +youth he had looked like Shelley, and he was still tall and slender +and clean-shaven, with straight, abundant white hair, and black +brows and lashes like Joy's. And he had what is called immense +personal charm, and loved his little grand-daughter devotedly. He +simply didn't know she was grown up. For the matter of that, neither +did Joy herself until.... + +You see, it had been very much like life in a fairy-book. She never +remembered anything but the old house and the old people, and +everybody literary coming and going and telling her how wonderful +Grandfather was: and nothing that concerned _her_ very closely, +at all. She scarcely knew how to treat anybody, except respectfully, +because they had always all been so much older than she was. It was +like living in an enchanted tower. Enchanted towers are very +pleasant places, because you can have all sorts of dreams in them. +Joy hadn't missed anything much, till the thing that happened at the +reception. + +Grandfather, in his frock-coat and stock, his white fluffy hair +flying, had been moving up and down the autographed parlors with his +usual dominant charm. Little gray Grandmother, in her gathered, +fichued black silk, was putting lemon or cream in teacups, as people +should prefer. Joy had been walking up and down by Grandfather, as +he liked to have her on reception days. They dressed her, on these +days, in lovely strange frocks, cut medieval fashion, with the ropes +of bronze-gold hair trailing down either side of her vividly +colored, incongruously dreamy little face. According to the way Joy +figured it out, Grandfather had her dress that way, the better to +write poetry about her. She didn't mind. The truth was, she lived so +far inside herself that she didn't care. It was so much easier to do +quickly what you were told, and then go back to the place where you +played by yourself--a fairy country. + +This particular reception day was a damp, heavily hot afternoon in +early September. There weren't many people back in the city yet, but +Grandfather always began his "days" as early as he could. He was +fond of having people around him. And even on this very sticky day +people did come. Only two of them were young. + +Joy didn't know any young people. Some day she intended to. In her +dream-world she had friends who were young and gay and lovely and +talked to her, and to whom she talked back gaily; but it never +occurred to her to expect anything like that to really happen right +now. The young men and young girls she sometimes crossed she admired +quite happily and remotely, as if they were people from another planet. + +It was so that she watched these two people that were young. She +liked watching them so much that presently she escaped from Grandfather, +and slid behind the window-curtains, to be closer to them. + +"They feel so lovely and happy," said Joy, warming her little hands +at their happiness. + +They were lovers; anybody could see that. And they weren't poets or +anything of the sort; you could see that, too. _She_ was in a +little trim white pongee street suit, with a close little hat above +a little rosy, powdered, cheerful face. _He_ had rather heavy +shoulders and a shock of carefully brushed straight light hair, and +looked about one year out of Harvard. They didn't at all belong with +the middle-aged roomful. As a matter of fact, _her_ mother knew +Mrs. Havenith a little, and so they had dashed in here to save her +suit from the rain. They were sitting and smiling at each other +against a background of Mark Twain's life-sized head in a broad gilt +frame. They faced another life-sized head of Browning, also +autographed, but they liked looking at each other better. + +Joy, from her hiding-place, could feel the current of their +happiness and youth, and it made her very warm in her soul, and +comfortable. She listened to them quite unashamedly, as she would +have to a nice play. + +"She has wonderful hair, hasn't she?" she heard the girl say. + +"Not as lovely as my girl's," the man answered softly. + +His girl laughed, a little low pleased laugh. "But you can't see +mine hanging down that way, like a picture," she fenced. + +"I'm glad you don't wear it that way," he insisted. "I like you to +look like a real girl, not a movie star or an advertisement." + +"Do you suppose she likes it?" asked the girl. "I'd go crazy if I +had to be like that--why, she isn't as old as I am! I suppose they +write poems about her, though," she added, as if that might be a +compensation. + +"Oh, if _that's_ all--" began the man, and they both laughed +happily, as at a wonderful joke. + +Joy, frozen behind her curtains, heard a little rustle, as if he was +taking her hand, and her protest-- + +"Oh, Dicky, don't--they'll see us!" + +"Not a bit," said he cheerfully. "They're all looking at dear +Grandpapa, the Angora Poet--oldest in captivity to be reading his +own sonnets. Bet you it's about the little girl, poor kid--he seems +to be looking around for her." + +"Sonnets? Oh, let's go; the rain's stopped," whispered the girl. +"You were awfully extravagant this afternoon. Now we're going to +take a nice, inexpensive walk up home." + +She heard him protesting a little at that; then they slid out +softly, while poor Joy sat behind her curtains, moveless and +aghast.... Oh, was this what she was like ... to real, happy, gay +people her own age? And she had liked the girl so, and been so +glad she had her lover, and that they loved each other! And +Grandfather.... She had never thought whether he wrote poetry about +her or not. She had just taken it for granted. People had to write +about something, and it was just as apt to be you as a public crisis +or a sunset, or anything else useful for the purpose. But they had +_laughed_ about it.... Oh, she did hope it wouldn't be a poem +about her that he was going to read! She felt she couldn't stand it, +if it were. She knew that when she was the subject she was expected +to be in sight, as a sort of outward and visible sign. + +"I won't go out into the room!" she said defiantly. "He doesn't +expect the sunsets and public crises to stand up and be looked at +when he reads about them!" + +So she stayed just where she was. As she stayed, incongruously, a +joke out of an old Punch came into her head--not at all an esthetic +one. It was a picture of a furious woman brandishing a broom, while +the tips of her husband's boots showed under the bed-foot. The +husband was saying: "Ye may poke at me and ye may threaten me, but +ye canna break my manly sperrit. I willna come out fra under the bed!" + +Joy laughed a little, even in her sad state of mind, at the +remembrance. "I willna come out fra under the bed, either," she +decided rather shakily, curling her flowing yellow satin closer +about her, and making herself quite flat against the window-frame. +She tried to stop her ears and not listen, so she wouldn't know +whether the poetry was about her or not. But she had fatally sharp +ears, and Grandfather always practised on her and Grandmother, +adoringly silent at the breakfast table. She would know the poems +apart if she only caught a half word.... And it _was_ about her. + +Grandfather's beautiful voice carried as well as it ever had. No +matter how many fingers you had in how many ears, you heard it just +the same. And the poem's name was, "To Joy in Amber Satin." + +It was doubtless a very lovely poem, and she'd been as pleased as +anybody when it had sold to the _Century_ for fifty dollars +last week. But it suddenly came over Joy that she wasn't a crisis, +nor yet a sunset, and that people oughtn't to write poetry to their +granddaughters, and then have them wear the clothes that were +written about right in the room with the poem. She knew, too, that +as soon as it was over, purry, nice, prettily dressed ladies would +come and hunt her out and use admiring adjectives on her. She had +never minded it before; she had taken it as a well-behaved little +dog would; as a curious thing people did, which meant that they +wanted to be nice. With this new viewpoint drenching her like cold +water it didn't seem nice a bit. + +She pulled the curtain stealthily apart and peeped out. Everything +seemed fairly all right. Between her and Grandfather, a useful +shelter, spread the massive purple-velvet back of Mrs. Harmsworth-Jones, +who always came, and always asked afterwards, "And how is our little +Joy-Flower today?" She was as good as she could be, but she was one +more of the things Joy felt as if she couldn't stand right now. + +She tiptoed very carefully indeed past Mrs. Harmsworth-Jones, and +past Grandfather's bronze bust at twenty-five, and almost past the +framed autograph letter of Whittier, on the easel. That was as far +as she got, because there was a nail sticking out at the side of the +Whittier frame, and it caught her by one of the straps that held her +satin panels together across the violet chiffon sidepieces. The +framed letter came down with a clatter, spoiling the last line of +the poem forever; and Joy was caught, for of course every one turned +around to see what the noise was. + +Grandfather, who had great presence of mind, read the last four +lines of the poem over again slowly, directly at Joy, who stood like +a wistful little figure out of Fairyland, pressed back against the +easel; her frightened eyes wide, her golden-bronze braids glimmering +in the firelight. It seemed to her that the delivery of those last +four lines was endless. + +Yet they were done at last, and still Joy stood motionless. She +really did not know how to run away, because she had never done it. + +Before she moved Grandfather had finished his reading and the +people, who had been sitting and standing raptly about, began to +move; all fluttering dresses and perfumes, and little laughters, and +pleasant little speeches to each other. It was a part of the +reception that Joy usually looked forward to happily. She was just +pulling herself together for flight when Mrs. Harmsworth-Jones, +jingling, purple-upholstered and smiling, bore down on her. + +"How is our dear little Joy-Flower this afternoon?" she asked as +inevitably as Fate, patting Joy's slim bare arm with one plump, +gloved hand, and beaming. "Oh, dearest child, _do_ you realize +the privilege you have? Think of actually living so close to a poet +that you become a part of his inspiration. Dear little Joy--" + +Mrs. Harmsworth-Jones was one of the nicest, kindest, fattest people +that ever lived, and furthermore, she had taken Joy, all by herself, +to a performance of "Pelleas and Melisande" only the spring before. +And though Joy had thought privately that the people sang too long +at a time on one note, and wished Melisande was less athletic-looking, +she had liked it very much, and felt obliged to the lady ever since. +So she really shouldn't have behaved the way she did--if it hadn't +been for the lovers, she doubtless wouldn't have. As it was, she +braced herself against the easel. + +"It isn't a privilege a bit," she said defiantly, out of a clear +sky. "It isn't half as much fun as being the kind of girl everybody +else is. I hate wearing moving-picture clothes" [not even in her +excitement could Joy bring herself to say "movies"] "and I hate +never knowing girls and men my own age, and I hate having poems +written to me worse than anything at _all_!" + +Poor Mrs. Harmsworth-Jones! She hadn't done a thing. Her own girls +went to fashionable schools and attended sub-deb dances by the score +until they came out, which they did at eighteen each like clockwork. +She couldn't have been expected to see to it for somebody else's +girl, too. Her getting the full blast of it was a quite fortuitous +affair, and Joy always felt, looking back afterwards on her +explosion, that it had been hard on the lady--who was frightened by +it to the point of silence. It must have been very much as if the +sedate full-length of Mr. Shakspere, over in the corner and _not_ +autographed, had opened its mouth and begun to recite limericks. + +"Why--why!" she said; and that was all she was capable of saying for +the moment. Joy, terrified herself at her deed, turned and fled. + +What happened between Mrs. Jones and Grandfather she never knew, and +never asked. She never halted in her flight till she was safe in her +own little eyrie upstairs. + +There she stopped before her dresser mirror, and looked at the +flushed, breathless girl in the glass. + +"I wonder," Joy said aloud, "what really is the difference between +me and other people?" + +She stared into the glass to see if she couldn't find out, leaning +her hands down on the dresser-top. But the pretty white-enamel-framed +mirror showed her just the same Joy as ever. Her heavy bronze-gold +braids swung forward, and their ends coiled down on the dresser-top. +Between them her little pointed face looked straight at her, blue-eyed, +red-lipped, and serious. Its owner eyed it perplexedly awhile, +then gave up the riddle. + +"If you look like pictures and poetry you _do_, and that's all +there is to it. I suppose living with Grandfather's had an effect on +me... I wonder..." Joy still stared steadily into the glass--"I +wonder if having somebody in love with me would make a difference. +It's the only thing Grandfather's ever said he was willing to have +happen to me. He's always talking about 'I would give you up +willingly to the first breath of true love....' But there's never +anybody comes to his parties you could love with a pair of tongs... +I wonder if he _would?_ It would have to be love at first +sight, too, I suppose. He doesn't think much of any other kind of +love.... But I'd be dreadfully frightened of him.... I hope he'd +have blond curly hair!" + +She lifted herself from her leaning position, and went and curled up +on the side of the bed, the better to think. + +"There's no use wondering about a lover," she decided. "Lovers +_never_ come to hear Grandfather read, not unless they come in +pairs to get out of the rain, like the animals in the ark.... Anyway +I don't think I'd want the one today, even if he hadn't been a pair. +But a nice fresh one that didn't belong to anybody else...." + +Grandmother, released at last from finding out what people wanted in +their tea, and giving it to them, hurried into the room at this +point, and was very much relieved to find Joy perfectly well to all +appearances, and sitting quietly on the side of the bed gazing off +into space. + +"Darling, were you ill?" she panted, sitting down by her. "Your +grandfather was quite disturbed over it, and I was terribly +frightened. We knew something must have happened. What was it, +lambie? Where do you feel badly?" + +Joy looked away from the wall, at her grandmother's kind, anxious, +wrinkled little face under the lace lappets. Grandfather liked +Grandmother to wear caps, so she did it; also fichus and +full-skirted silks, whether such were in fashion or no. + +"I didn't feel ill one bit," explained Joy deliberately. "Only I'm +tired of being a decoration. I want to be like other people... I +don't want to wear any more clothes like paintings, or ever have any +more poetry written to me. I--oh, Grandmother, everything's going on +and going on, and none of it's happening to _me!_" She looked at +her grandmother appealingly. "And it feels as if it wouldn't ever!" + +But Grandmother didn't seem to understand a bit. And yet she must +have been young once--wasn't there that poem of Grandfather's, "To +Myrtilla at Seventeen," to prove it? The one beginning "Sweetheart, +whose shadowed hair!" Why, he must have--yes, he spoke of it in the +poem--Grandfather must have held Grandmother's hand, like the +Dicky-lover today, and even kissed her because he wanted to, not +because it was nine in the morning or ten at night. Those were the +times he kissed her now. Of one thing Joy was certain, Grandmother +had never told Grandfather he must stop. She wouldn't have dared. + +"Dear, would you like a hot-water bottle, and your supper in bed?" +inquired Grandmother, breaking in on these meditations.... Oh, it +was a long time since Grandmother had been Myrtilla at seventeen! +Joy looked at her wistfully once more. + +"No, thank you, Grandmother," she said decidedly. "I feel very well, +thank you. I'll be down to supper as soon as I've changed my frock." + +She felt as if getting off the actual clothes that were in the poem +would be escaping from it a little, and perhaps drawing a little +nearer the having of real things happen to her. Grandmother, nearly +reassured, patted Joy's little slim hand with her own little +wrinkled one, and trotted downstairs to tell Grandfather happily +that Joy would soon be down. + +Joy, left alone, pulled off the amber robe, and stood before the +wardrobe in her silk slip, pushing along the hangers to try and find +something practical. It was pretty hard. All her gowns were lovely +loose or draped or girdled things: you could have costumed the whole +cast of two Maeterlinck plays from just those hangers. She was very +tired, suddenly, of all of them. At last she found a green dress +that was the delight of her life, even if it was picturesque, +because it was such a nice, cheerful color, put it on, and went +down. She had tried to fasten her hair up as the lover-girl's had +been fastened, but hers was so curly and heavy and alive and long +that it couldn't be done. She strapped it in desperation around her +head, wished she had some powder, and dashed down the long flights +of stairs just in time to save herself from a second summons. She +wasn't quite satisfied with her own general effect, but it would do +for a beginning. + +So, dreamer as she still was, nevertheless the only thing alight and +alive in the old house, she ran down the staircases, past the +statues that stood severely in the niches at the head of each +flight, down finally to the basement dining-room where the three old +people, her grandfather and grandmother and old Elizabeth, were +waiting for her. + +They sat at either end of the old mahogany table--that had been +Lucilla Havenith's, too--with supper, plus the sandwiches left over +from the tea, waiting untouched till Joy should come. By the way all +three stopped short when she came in, Joy was sure they had been +wondering what was the matter with her. She sank into her own chair, +and took one of the walnut sandwiches which had been spared by the +reception people. She was still hungry, and proceeded to eat it, at +which Mrs. and Mr. Havenith looked happier. + +"You see, Alton, she has an appetite," said Grandmother thankfully. + +"Yes, I am glad to see she has," answered Grandfather, as if the +circumstance was gratifying to him also. "I am very much relieved." + +Joy felt guilty. When your grandparents were as fond as all that of +you, you really hadn't any right to feel as if you wanted anything +else. She straightened up and smiled gallantly at them, and took +another sandwich by way of proving her health. + +"I think I'm all right," she said. + +"You were overtired," said Grandmother solicitously--Grandmother, +who had cut all the sandwiches, which Joy had only buttered! "The +day's been oppressive." + +So she passed Joy some more of the walnut sandwiches, and smiled to +see that they were being eaten. + +"But I am not satisfied, yet," said Grandfather. If Grandfather had +only let well enough--and young girls' whimsies--alone, Joy wouldn't +have been tempted. "What made you rush out that way, Joy--just as I +was finishing the last stanza of the lyric, 'To Joy in Amber Satin,' +too? You couldn't have chosen a worse possible moment. You nearly +spoiled the effect." + +Joy threw her head back defiantly. She knew that if Grandmother +didn't understand her appeal, certainly Grandfather wouldn't. + +"Grandfather," she said, "do you remember the anecdote you always tell +to small groups of people, the one about the farmer who used to meet +your friend, James Russell Lowell, on his afternoon walk every day, +and say, 'Waal, Mr. Lowell, had a poem yet today?' _I_ had a poem!" + +It was a most amazing fish story. Joy hadn't had any such thing as a +poem: nothing at all but a fit of rebellion. But if she wanted to +check her grandfather's inquiries she had taken the most perfect way +known to civilization. He couldn't possibly blame her for bolting if +the poem had to be put down. Nor even for being impolite to Mrs. +Harmsworth-Jones. + +"You always say, 'The Muse must out,'" continued Joy defiantly. "Or +would you rather I didn't have any Muse?" + +There was only one thing for Grandfather to say, and he said it. + +"My dear, if you are really intending to do serious work along that +line nothing should prevent you. I quite understand." + +Grandmother looked over at her little girl with a new respect--and +perhaps a new apprehension. One poet in a family is supposed to be +enough, as a rule. And Joy had always been such a good, dear child +to manage. + +So no more was said. But Joy wondered if she hadn't let herself in +for something dreadful. Grandfather would certainly expect to see +that poem some day! + +Nothing more was said about it for the two weeks that led to +Grandfather's next Afternoon. Joy was delighted to find that her +Muse wasn't asked for, and her grandparents may have been rather +pleased at her continuing to behave as she always had, instead of +saying curious things about wanting to be like other people. She +continued to wear her picture-frocks and do as she was told. Her own +feelings were that she had been naughty, but that she was rather +glad of it. + +And so it was that when the reception day came around again, Joy +helped with the sandwiches and sliced the lemons and piled up the +little cakes and dressed herself prettily--and then went and hid at +the foot of the back stairs, with Aunt Lucilla for a companion. + +"I hope I shall behave if somebody finds me, and tells me what a +privilege it is to be me," said Joy; "but I doubt it. Because it +isn't. It isn't one bit." + +"What isn't?" demanded a man's voice interestedly. + + + + + + +CHAPTER TWO + +BY GRACE OF THE WISHING RING + +Joy turned her head to look. She was quite sure that the speaker +couldn't see her very well, but she could see him, or the top of +him, perfectly, because he was standing in the crack of a door that +gave on to the back hall; a door few people remembered existed, as a +picture hung on it, and it gave no impression of ever being used. He +was young and broad-shouldered and sure-looking, little as she could +see of him. She could see his face as far down as the eyes, and that +was all. They were pleasant, steel-colored eyes, very amused and +direct, and his hair, in the light of the old-fashioned chandelier +behind him, glittered, fair and a little curlier than he evidently +approved of. + +He slipped entirely through the door; at the same moment Joy blew +out the candle she had been holding up to Aunt Lucilla. Then she +laughed, a little shy, pretty laugh. She wished she could light it +again, to look at him, but she remembered that if she did that he +might think she _did_ want to look at him. + +"I'm so glad you've come!" she almost said. He seemed like some one +she had been waiting for a long while, some way, instead of the usual +stranger you had to get used to. There was such a breath of freshness +and courage and cheer in just the few words he had spoken and the little +laugh they were borne on, that Joy felt irrationally what a nice world +it was. Then she remembered to reply to what he had said. + +"It isn't a privilege, being me," she explained from her shadows. + +He looked over to where her voice came from, but there wasn't +anything visible except a little dark heap on the last three stairs. + +"I could tell better if I could see you," he stated pleasantly. +"Don't you want to take the hint?" + +But Joy, mindful of the hanging braids that would certainly make him +think she was a little girl, would not take it at all. She snuggled +against the wall. + +"Oh, you can see me any time," she said carelessly, "but you can +scarcely ever get to talk to me. At least, I heard somebody say so +last month." + +She felt quite like somebody else, a gay, teasing, careless sort of +real girl, talking to him here in the dark. She was sure she +wouldn't if the lights were on. She could talk to him as if he were +some one out of a book or a story, so long as he didn't know she +looked like a book-person or a play-person herself. + +"Well, anyway, do let me stay here," he begged, doing it. "For the +last hour I haven't felt as if it was much of a privilege to be me, +either. Do you know that feeling of terrible personal unworthiness +you get at a party where everybody knows everybody else and nobody +knows you? I feel like precisely the kind of long, wiggly worm the +little boy ate." + +Joy felt very sorry for him; because if she didn't know that feeling +she knew one to match it; having everybody know her and nobody think +of playing with her.... This man was playing with her for a minute, +anyway. + +"And I'll always have him to remember," she thought happily, "even +when I'm an old, old lady, writing reminiscences of Grandfather, the +way they all say I should ..." She went off into a little daydream +of writing all this down in her reminiscences, and having him--old, +too, then--write back to her and say that he, also, had always +remembered the time happily, and wondered who she was.... Then she +answered him. + +"You know me, anyway--don't say you know no one," she told him. +"Anyway, I'm glad you're talking to me. I'm Joy." + +He laughed again, leaning against the door-frame in the thread of light. + +"Then you're something I've been looking for a long time," he said. +"I've had friends and success, and good times--but I've never found +Joy till now." + +She knew, of course, that he was just being pleasant about her name, +as people were sometimes. But it sounded very lovely to remember. + +"I'm Alton Havenith's granddaughter," she explained sedately. And, +with a sudden desire that he should know the worst, she added, "I'm +the one he writes poetry to." + +He must have caught a note of regret in her voice--oh, he was a very +wonderful person! for what he said wasn't a bit what Joy expected +even him to say--the "How lovely for you!" that she was braced for. + +"Why, you poor kiddie!" said he, "and you ought to be playing tag or +tennis or something. I can't see much of you, except one braid that +the light's on; but you're just a little thing, aren't you?" + +Joy did not answer. She looked up at him, as the crack of light +widened behind him, and showed him clearly for a moment. He was so +very handsome, standing there with his brows contracted in a little +frown over his pleasant gray eyes, that Joy felt her heart do a +queer thing, as if it turned over. + +He came a little nearer her, and sat down on the floor, below her, +quite naturally. + +"And you're awfully lonesome, and you wish something would happen?" +said his kind voice. It was a lovely voice, Joy thought. It was +authoritative, yet with a little caressing note in it, as if he +would look after you very carefully--and you would love it. + +"How did you know?" she asked. + +"Oh, I just could tell," he said, and it seemed a perfectly clear +explanation. "Well, don't forget that there's lots of time yet. You +just keep on believing things _will_ happen--don't lose heart--and +maybe they will." + +Somehow, the way he said it, Joy was sure they would. + +"Like a wishing ring?" she asked eagerly. + +He laughed. + +"You _are_ a kiddie. Why, yes, like a wishing ring, if you like." + +Before Joy could answer there came a brisk voice from the door. + +"Oh, this is where you've hidden! You may be decorative, Jack, but +as an escort I've known nephews more useful." + +Joy looked up and saw a tiny elderly lady, quite a new one, in the +doorway. + +"Good-by, Joy," he said in too low a voice for the old lady to hear. +"I'm glad we've met--I can't say I'm glad to have seen you, because +I haven't, you know. But thanks for a human five minutes--and keep +hoping." + +He sprang lightly to his feet, opened the door, shut the door--was +gone, and Joy was alone in the dark again. + +She smiled up at Aunt Lucilla unseeingly. + +"Not even Lafayette could have been as kind as that," she said +proudly, and leaned happily against the wall again. + +"Why, Joy, dear, don't you want to come in and see the people?" +Grandmother was asking her solicitously, bending over her. "You +aren't sick again, are you?" + +Joy sprang up with a little laugh. + +"Not a bit," she assured her. "I'm especially all right. Why, +yes--I'll come in if you want me, of course. The people don't matter." + +She threaded her way, behind Grandmother, up and down the parlors +for the next hour, quite happy. She'd had such a wonderful five +minutes in the back hall--why, what difference did it make if Mr. +James Arthur Gosport captured her and told her about his ideas on +universal brotherhood? She didn't have to listen specially, because +she knew just what he was going to tell: the story about how he went +out from his parlor-car and hunted through the day-coach to find a +brake-man, on purpose to tell him how fond he was of him. And how +the brakeman's eyes filled up with tears at being loved, and how Mr. +Gosport had to hurry back to his Pullman in order not to go to +pieces himself. + +When Mr. Gosport told this tale--it was one he used in his lectures, +and it always went splendidly--Joy usually had to keep herself from +wondering why he didn't go to pieces anyhow; he was so long and +loosely built you'd think he was merely pinned together. But this +afternoon she smiled at him so brightly that he liked the way he +told the story better than ever. She was really thinking-- + +"The man she called Jack is built ever so much better than Mr. +Gosport is. _He_ wouldn't just cry over a brakeman. He'd give +him some money or...." + +"It is very wonderful to feel that we are all brothers, and that so +little a thing as bringing it home to a train-hand could move him so +profoundly," finished Mr. Gosport, cheered by the success of his +anecdote. "I make it a point never to neglect such little things--" + +He was left with a period in mid-air, for Joy, with a flurry of +skirts, was running toward her grandfather. She didn't care a bit +whether men were all brothers or second cousins; she thought maybe +Grandfather would know the real name of the man she had talked to, +the one besides Jack. + +"Grandfather, what was the name of the man with curly, fair hair and +big gray eyes, the one who had a little old lady with him?" she +demanded breathlessly, clinging to her grandfather's arm and +interrupting him ruthlessly in the middle of something he was saying +to somebody. + +"I haven't the faintest recollection," said Grandfather; and +Grandmother whispered: + +"Come away, dear. The lady with him just asked him whether he wrote +under his own name or a nom-de-plume, and you know how irritating +that is." + +Joy came obediently away. After all, it didn't matter about Jack's +other name. She knew perfectly well that she should see him again. +Everything was bound to go happily.... And till she saw him again, +she had him to remember. + +"I have something pleasant to tell you, dear," said Grandmother, +patting the arm she still held. + +"Yes, Grandmother?" she asked, smiling. An hour or so before she +would have been wild to know what it was, but now she was only +serenely glad that it did exist. She knew perfectly well that things +had begun to happen. And now they would go on and on and on till the +fairy-tale ending came. She knew that, too. Somehow, the shut-out +feeling was all gone, ever since the gray-eyed man had sat at her +feet in the hall and given her the wishing ring. The curtain was +up--or, rather, the door was open into things, just as he'd pushed +open the door from her little dark dream-place, the door that had +always been there, but nobody'd thought to use. Of course, things +were going to happen--lovely ones! + +"I know I'll like it," she ended, with a happy little laugh. + +"You seem better already, dear," said her grandmother happily, and +began: "We have been talking about your health, and we have decided +that you need a change, and some young life. So we are going up to +an inn in the Maine woods for a month or more. There's boating +there, and--and games, I understand, and there's a literary colony +near, so there'll be people for your grandfather. He thinks he may +go on holding small Afternoons. It's a cottage inn." + +Joy did not know then what a cottage inn was, but neither did she +care. She clasped her hands happily over the invisible wishing ring. + +As Joy helped Grandmother pack, the next week, she wondered a little +about clothes. She did not worry now, because she had a conviction +that if she only knew what she wanted, and hoped as Jack had told +her, she could hope things straight to her. There was a gray taffeta +in a window uptown, together with a big gray chiffon hat, a little +pair of glossy gray strapped slippers, and filmy gray silk +stockings. And the hat, instead of having pink roses on it, as you'd +think a normal hat would, by the mercy of Providence had deep yellow +roses, exactly the color Joy knew she could wear if she got the +chance. The chance, to be sure, was remote. She did not have an +allowance, just money when she asked for it; and her fall wardrobe +had been bought only a few weeks before. Besides the amber satin +that the poetry was about, there were three other frocks, lovely, +artistic, but, Joy was certain, no mortal use for tennis. She didn't +know how to play tennis, but she intended to, just the same. + +Now, how, with just seven dollars left from your last birthday's +ten, could you buy a silk frock, with a hat and shoes and stockings +to match? The answer seemed to be that you couldn't, but Joy did not +want to look at it that way yet. And as she gazed around her bedroom +in search of inspiration, her eyes fell on an illuminated sentiment +over her bureau. It had been sent Grandfather by a Western admirer +who had done it by hand herself in three colors, not counting the +gilt. Grandfather had one already, so Joy had helped herself to +this, because it matched the color of her room. She had never read +it before, but, reading it today, it impressed her as excellent +advice to the seeker after fine raiment. + +"Let the farmer," Mr. Emerson had said, "give his corn, the miner a +gem, the painter his picture, the poet his poem." Joy did not stop +to wonder (for the Western lady had left it out) on just what +principle these contributions were being made. She didn't care. + +"Now, that's the way people earn money," said she practically, and +tried to think what she could do. + +Cook--she could make very good things to eat, but Grandmother would +have to know about that, and, besides, it wouldn't be a thing they +would approve of. Sewing--no, you couldn't get much out of that. She +could recite poetry and be decorative, but she gave a little shiver +at the thought. She played and sang as Grandmother had taught +her--harp and piano--and spoke Grandmother's French. She couldn't do +much with _them_.... Oh, she was just decorative! And as she prepared +to be vexed at the idea, suddenly the motto caught her eye again. + +"It's a perfectly impossible idea from _their_ standpoint," +said Joy, with the light of battle in her eye for almost the first +time in her life, "but I simply have to have that gray dress." + +She rose and fished the amber satin out of her trunk. She put it on, +put her long coat over it, packed her next most picturesque frock in +a bag, fastened on a hat, and walked out the front door. + +Just three blocks away lived a dear, elderly mural decorator who was +always telling her how he wished he had her for a model. She knew he +was making studies now for about a half-mile of walls in a new, rich +statehouse somewhere far away. + +She should have been frightened at this, her first adventure, but +she wasn't. She found her heart getting gayer and lighter as she ran +down the steps with her little bag. It was the kind of a day when +all the policemen and street-sweepers and old women selling +shoe-laces look at you pleasantly, and make cheerful remarks to you. +Even the conductor whose street-car she didn't take smiled +pleasantly at her after stopping his car by mistake. It was as +kind-hearted and pleasant-minded a worldful of people as Joy had +ever met, and she was singing under her breath with happiness as she +ran up the steps leading to Mr. Morrow's studio. There wasn't any +particular excuse for her being so light-hearted, excepting that the +street-people had been so friendly minded, and there was such a dear +little breeze with a country smoke-scent on it, and that somewhere +in the world was a tall man with fair hair and a kind, authoritative +voice, who had said wonderful things to her--a man she would meet +again some day, when she was charming and worldly and dressed in a +tailor-made suit. + +Mr. and Mrs. Morrow were artists both; and she found them, +blouse-swathed and disheveled, doing charcoal studies in a corner of +the room apiece. Mrs. Morrow kissed Joy, arching over her so that +the smudges on her pinafore wouldn't be transferred. Mr. Morrow came +out of his corner and shook hands with her with less care, so that +his smudges did come off on her. Then they both listened to her +story with the same kindness and interest every one else had shown +her that morning. + +"I can sit still or stand still as long as ever you want me to," Joy +explained. "And you said yourself I was decorative, Mr. Morrow; you +know you did!" + +"I did, indeed," Mr. Morrow answered promptly, while Mrs. Morrow +asked some more questions. + +Joy answered them. + +"And I would be able to earn enough money for all those things in +the window by Friday?" she ended. + +The Morrows smiled and glanced at each other. Joy did not know, till +some months later, why they smiled. Then they spoke, nearly together. + +"Yes, indeed, dear child--quite enough!" + +Joy was reassured, because, though she didn't know model-prices, she +had been afraid that it wouldn't be. + +Then they gave her some purple draperies--the satins wouldn't do, +after all, it appeared--and arranged her in them. And, to +anticipate, when Joy went out to that statehouse, the next year, she +was able to pick out her own bronze-gold braids and purple royalties +all up and down the frieze. + +"By Jove, she _is_ a good model!" said Mr. Morrow after a +couple of hours, pulling at his pointed gray beard and speaking +enthusiastically in his soft artist-voice. + +"Splendid!" said untidy, handsome Mrs. Morrow, sitting down on the +model-throne to view her own work the better. "But she must be ready +to drop, aren't you, Joy, dear? You aren't used to it." + +But Joy shook her head. + +"I'm not tired a bit," she said truthfully. "I just let go all over +and stay that way. It isn't sitting any stiller than I do lots of +days, when Grandfather has me stay close by him, and keep very still +so he can write. Why, it seems downright sinful," she went on +earnestly, "to earn beautiful gray clothes by just sitting still! +But you would have to have somebody, anyway, wouldn't you?" + +"Of course we would!" said Mrs. Morrow, picking up her crayon again. +"Indeed, we have to have two most of the time." + +They all kept very quiet for a while after that, Joy sitting still +in her robes of state, a slim young Justice presiding over an as yet +undrawn Senate, and the Morrows working hard at her. She had been +posing for another half hour, when there came a whirlwind of steps +up the stairs, and the door banged open. + +"Mrs. Morrow, can you let me have some fixative?" called a voice; +and Joy moved her eyes cautiously, and saw a pretty, panting girl in +the doorway. She looked like an artist, too, for she had a smudge of +paint on one vivid cheek, and her black hair was untidily down over +her gipsy eyes. + +"Nice model you've got--good skin tints--oh, don't bother about the +fixative if you're working. I see it." + +She darted in, past Joy, snatched a bottle half full of something +yellow, and was out again before any one could speak. + +"I'm hurrying," she called superfluously back as she fled to the +floor below. "Giving a dance tonight." + +Joy, most mousy-quiet in her chair, mentally registered another +requirement toward being the kind of girl she ought to be. There +were such lots of wonderful things to learn! + +She went to the Morrows regularly every day after that, six days in +all. She told Grandmother where she was, not what she was doing. It +didn't occur to her that Grandmother would mind, but she thought it +would be pleasanter to surprise her, and say, "See the lovely dress +I earned all myself, posing for the Morrows!" + +Meanwhile, Grandmother, pleased at her little girl's brightened face +and general happiness of demeanor, asked no questions. + +"You've been one of the best models we ever had, my dear," said Mrs. +Morrow in her deep, unceremonious voice, when the last day came. +"And it occurred to me that you might be too hurried when the last +day came to do your shopping yourself. So I just ran uptown and got +your pretties for you." + +It was not for a long time that Joy discovered the regular pay of a +model to be fifty cents an hour, and the sum total of her gray +costume to have been--it was late for summer styles, so they were +marked down--fifty-three dollars and ninety cents. But Mrs. Morrow +had said to Mr. Morrow, who usually saw things as she did, even +before she explained them: + +"Alton Havenith would never let that dear little thing have anything +as modish as those clothes. He'd keep her for a living illustration +to his poem-books till he died. And we're making a lot on that +Sagawinna Courthouse thing.... And we haven't any daughter." + +And Mr. Morrow, remembering a seven-year-old with blue eyes and +yellow hair, who had never grown old enough to ask for French-heeled +shoes and picture hats, said only, "That's what I thought, too." + +Joy, blissfully ignorant that she had been given a good deal of a +present, kissed them both ecstatically on receiving a long, large +pasteboard box, and almost ran home. She was so eager, indeed, to +get upstairs and try on her finery that she quite upset a Neo-Celtic +poet who had come to see if Grandfather would write an article about +him, and was standing on the doorstep on one foot in a dreamy +manner. He was rather small, and so not difficult to fall over. She +did not stop to see if he was injured; she merely recovered herself, +grasped her precious boxes more closely and sped on upstairs, +thinking how pleasant it was that she was no relation to _him_. +To have even fine poetry written about you was bad enough; it must +be much worse if the poetry was bad, too. + +When she opened her box she found that Mrs. Morrow had seen and +bought something else for her; a golden-brown wool jersey sweater +suit, with a little brown cap to match. + +"Oh, how lovely! I can wear them all day, and the gray things all +night--all evening, I mean," Joy exulted. "And maybe I'll never have +to put on the picture dresses at all!" + +She went to sleep that night with the brown suit laid out in its box +across the foot of her bed, below her feet, and the gray chiffon +hat, with its golden yellow roses, on a chair by her, where she +could touch it if she woke in the night and thought she had dreamed +it. She said her prayers almost into it; she was so obliged to the +Lord for the hat and the frocks, and the man who had talked to her +in the dark, that she felt as if she ought to take the hat, at +least, and show it to God while she was praying. + + * * * * * + +They had been in Maine long enough for Joy to discover what a +cottage inn really was. It appeared that the inn itself lived in the +middle, as a sort of parent; and all around it sprang up small +cottages, where you and yours could dwell, and never associate with +anybody you didn't want to, except at mealtime, or lingering about a +little afterwards, or at dances. And if you were unusually exclusive +(also unusually rich), they took you over your meals, and you never +saw anybody at all. Joy was exceedingly glad that Grandfather was +only comfortably off, because she liked, best of all the day's +round, the little times before and after dinner when she could sit +on the porch and watch people, and decide whom she was going to like +most, and whom she was going to be most like. + +She wore her brown woolen frock all day long the first day, changing +to the gray silk in the evening--the dear gray silk, all little +glints of embroidery and little falls of chiffon!--and the gray hat +with it. She was waiting for her grandparents to ask her where she +got it, but they were so occupied with getting themselves settled, +and seeing that their place and hers at table were sufficiently far +from the noisier crowds of people not to be a strain on +Grandfather's nerves and Joy's, that nothing was said. As a matter +of fact, Grandfather thought Grandmother had bought it for her, and +Grandmother thought Grandfather had; so each said pretty things +about it to the other, without coming straight out, as their +courteous custom with each other was; and the secret was still Joy's. + +By the second day Joy saw that people were beginning to find out who +Grandfather was. So she deliberately ran away. Not badly, nor far; +she only had a waiter who seemed to want to be nice to her make her +up a little packet of sandwiches, and then she took to the nearest +woods. She quite intended to be back for dinner; she wouldn't have +missed the pageant of sunburned, laughing people streaming in, for +anything; not even at the risk of being asked if she, too, wrote +poetry. + +The woods gained, she leaned back against a big oak tree with a +rested sigh. There might be all the poetry in the world a half mile +off, but here you couldn't see anything but trees and more trees, +all autumn reds and browns and yellows, and the two little brown +paths that crossed near where she sat. Her blue, black-lashed eyes +rested happily on a great bough of scarlet and yellow maple leaves. + +"I haven't got to say one _word_ about them," she breathed. +"_Nice_ leaves!" + +Then she felt vaguely penitent; and in spite of the scenery, began +to think about Grandfather, and therefore poetry, again--so firm a +clutch has habit. There in the wonderful tingling air, with the late +sunset glimmering a little through the trees, an old poem began to +sing itself through her head. For, though she didn't think so, Joy +_did_ like poetry. + +It was out of Bryant's "Library of Poetry and Song" that she had +been brought up on. The book always opened of itself under Joy's +hand to "Poems of Fancy." + + "..._And I galloped and I galloped on my steed as white as milk, + My gown was of the grass-green and my shoes were of the silk, + My hair was golden-yellow, and it floated to my shoe, + My eyes were like two harebells dipped in little drops of dew_..." + +Joy leaned herself back more luxuriously. + +"It _is_ like the enchanted forest," she breathed. "I can +almost see the Lady in the poem galloping along, and the Green Gnome +leaping up to stop her. The path out there is wide enough--people +from the inn go riding on it. I remember their saying so, that old +lady with the daughter that wriggles too much." + +At this stage in her meditations Joy laughed and ceased wishing. It +was all very well to desire Green Gnomes and golden-haired +fairy-ladies to gallop down the bridle-path, but the chances were +that if any one did come it would be the old lady and her daughter, +on livery horses, and that they would wish to alight and talk to +her. City-bred Joy didn't want to talk. She only wanted to be left +here alone with the trees and the sunset. It was more than time to +dress for dinner, she knew it well, for the sunset was a little less +bright. But she deliberately stayed where she was, the ballad +singing itself dreamily still through her head. + +And then she did hear the click of a horse's hoofs, quite plainly. + + + + + + +CHAPTER THREE + +PHYLLIS RIDES THROUGH + +When Joy could see the rider she was relieved to find that he had no +intention of stopping. Then--a little too late--she sprang up and +ran after him; for the horse was a pony, and the rider a little boy, +laughing too gleefully not to be in mischief, and lashing the pony +on. He was having a perfectly wonderful time, apparently, and seemed +to have a safe seat; but he was certainly much too young to be +galloping through the woods at sunset alone. + +Joy fell back panting from her vain chase. + +"Why, he wasn't more than four or five," she said half-aloud. "What +_will_ his mother say?" + +But the clatter of the light hoofs, and the delighted shouts of the +child, passed like an apparition, leaving Joy half wondering if she +had imagined it all. Though she was still a little concerned, +because somebody was very fond of that mop of flying dusky hair, and +the triumphant little voice that had echoed past her. + +"I can wait here, anyway," she decided at once. "Some one may come +looking for him, and I can tell which way he went." + +She sat still where she was for a little while longer. She had +nearly made up her mind to follow the child, when, to her great +relief, she heard another horse coming. + +"I can send whoever it is after him," she thought, springing up and +running out to the path. "Oh, wait! Please wait!" she called to the +as yet unseen rider. + +The horse was pulled to a walk, and its rider slipped to the ground, +coming into Joy's sight with the bridle over her arm, and the animal +following her. + +"Did you see--" began the strange lady, just as Joy said: + +"Would you please--" + +Then each stopped and waited for the other to go on, though the lady +with the big white horse seemed in haste to ask and be gone. She was +the first to continue, rather hurriedly. + +"Did you see a little boy on a pony, riding this way?" she asked. +"I'm hunting for him." + +While Joy replied she looked admiringly at the speaker. She was much +taller than Joy, and very pretty, with long blue eyes, a creamy +skin, and hair that was the very "golden-yellow" of the ballad. She +might have been anywhere in the later twenties, but Joy learned +afterwards that she was thirty-two. To Joy's eyes she was the fairy +lady of the ballad come true; for she had evidently flung herself on +her horse just as she was, in a green evening gown with a light +cloak over it. Even in her anxiety for the child she had about her +an atmosphere of bright serenity that made Joy in love with her. + +"I was just going to ask you to go after him," Joy replied as she +looked. "He went past here a few minutes ago. I'm sure he is too +little to be riding alone." + +"He is indeed," said the golden lady, smiling. "Little villain! But +it seems he doesn't think so! Which way did he go, please?" + +"Straight along this path," Joy answered, pointing. + +The lady sprang to her horse again. + +"Thank you," she called back, then more and more faintly, "I haven't +much time--now, to be--grateful as I should be. We'll--come--back--" + +The last words were hardly distinguishable from the echo of the +flying hoofs. The ballad-lady was gone. + +The whole thing seemed to Joy like something out of a pageant. She +wondered if the lovely lady in green was the little boy's mother, or +his sister or aunt. + +"It was a little like the Green Gnome poem, except that she was +hunting for him, and that the little boy was pretty," she thought. +In the poem the Gnome had turned to a "tall and comely man" when the +lady kissed him. She liked the lady; there had been something so gay +and friendly about her, just in those few words, that Joy's heart +felt warmed. Very few people near her own age came close enough to +stately little Joy to be as friendly as the lady had been--or as the +wishing-ring man had been. + +"Somewhere," Joy decided happily, "there must be lots of people like +them, if I could only find the place. I'm sure I shall some day." + +She sat on in the gathering twilight, waiting for them to return. As +she sat the thought of the wishing-ring man came back again. +Wherever he was, he was wishing her well, and remembering her--he +had said--what was it--he'd had a "human five minutes" with her. Her +heart beat unreasonably, as if he might be coming down the brown +path in the twilight, this instant,--as if the golden lady might +bring him back with her. + +It was nearly dark, and the wind was getting colder, when the hoofs +sounded down the path again. There were three of them now--and Joy's +heart gave a little spring, till she saw that the man riding the +other horse was no one she knew. The pony was riderless, and he was +leading it, while the naughty little boy who had caused all the +trouble was perched in front of the lady's saddle, most impenitently +conversational. She had one arm tight around him, as if she did not +want to lose him again, and she was smiling down at him and +answering him gaily as he talked. Punishment was evidently waived, +or so far in the future as not to worry anybody. The child's clear +little assured voiced came to her, sitting in the shadows. + +"But if God takes care of me, Faver, I don't see why I need a nurse +bovvering," he was expostulating. + +Joy didn't hear just how his family met this objection. She saw that +the lady looked about for her, and could not see her in the +gathering darkness. + +Then she went back to the hotel, where she was very late for dinner. +She looked around for the riders, but she did not see them. Evidently +they were having dinner taken over. + + * * * * * + +Phyllis Harrington, rather regretfully, hooked a dog-chain to the +porch railing of the cottage she and her husband had just hired. It +was an entirely unnecessary part of the family bull-terrier's +wardrobe, and she intended to use it as an instrument of justice. So +she called her small son. She believed in making the punishment fit +the crime, and Philip had flagrantly run away, quite against orders, +the evening before. + +He appeared at her summons, smiling angelically. Philip Harrington +had not the smallest visible excuse for being the son of his +parents, for his father was not particularly dark, and his mother +distinctly gold-blond. Philip threw back, it was supposed, to the +family Pirate, a semi-mythical person whom Phyllis said she'd had +some thirteen generations ago. Phyllis was a New Englander. The +Pirate must have been dark; at least Philip had tragic, enormous +brown eyes with dense lashes, a mop of straight black hair, and a +dusky skin, deeply rose-red at cheeks and lips. He also possessed +the gentle, solemn courtesy of a Spanish grandee, which the Pirate +may or may not have been. He was full of charm of manner, and +combined a spirit of fearless loving-kindness to all the world with +an inability to see why he shouldn't always have his own way; which +made him difficult to manage. + +"You goin' to chain me up, Mother?" he inquired affectionately, +nestling up to her. + +"Yes," explained his mother, hardening her heart, "little boys who run +away from home like little dogs have to be treated like little dogs." + +"Oh, _I'll_ be a little dog," replied Philip, entering +agreeably into the idea, and backing up to be chained. "No, I'll be +a big dog. I'll run around an' jerk my chain an' say 'Woof! Woof!' +like the Hewitts' setter. And Foxy 'n I'll have bones together!" His +small Velasquez face lighted rapturously at the prospect. "Here, +Foxy, Foxy!" + +The black French bull whose chain Philip was using dashed up at the +summons. He was middle-aged, but he had a young heart still, and his +tail vibrated madly as he bounded between Phyllis and her son. + +"Oh, he's _got_ a bone!" exclaimed Philip, gleefully dropping +on all fours. + +Phyllis stood up from chaining her child, and turned appealingly to +her husband, coming down the steps of the little bungalow with +two-and-a-half-year-old Angela on his shoulder. + +"You look like a colored illustration from the _Graphic_," she +said irrelevantly. "You're just in time to assist discipline. +_Look!_" she pointed tragically to her victim. + +He would have been happily disputing the opportune bone with Foxy, had +not that faithful animal's devotion led him to hand it over at once. + +"Faver, make him take it away from me!" he demanded. "Faver, I'm all +chained up! I'm a little dog!" + +Little Angela, who looked like a slim, tiny Christmas-card +_Christ-kind_, and was as fascinating a little demon as ever +coquetted with the world at large, struggled to get down, and +demanded to be chained up and be another little dog. Her father set +her down, whereat she made a bolt for the dog, the bone, and her +happily engaged brother. + +"Do you think there's any way of conveying to him that this is not a +new amusement, Allan?" demanded his mother, half-laughing. + +"Don't let's try," said Allan promptly. "Everything's going +beautifully. Philip's happy, and Angela's going to be gloriously +dirty in a minute, which will give her nurse something to wash. You +know how bitter Viola is about never getting the children to herself +for a minute." + +Phyllis slipped an arm through her tall husband's, as they stood by +the steps together. + +"No, but Allan, what _would_ you do?" + +Allan laughed. + +"Send him back to Wallraven, and tell Johnny Hewitt to see that he's +plunged into the middle of the chickenpox epidemic we fled from. How +would you like that, young man?" + +Philip looked up with deprecating politeness, on being directly +addressed. + +"Please, Faver, if you don't mind my name's Jinks! You must say, +'Here, Jinks,' and I say 'Woof! Woof!' and wag my tail." + +"Say wuff!" echoed Angela, with a dazzling smile at her elders, and +an effort not to tumble over on the grass. + +Phyllis pounced on her babies at Allan's alarming suggestion, and +managed to hug them both at once; an ordeal which Philip stood with +every evidence of pleasure, and Angela under protest. + +"My poor little lambs! ... Allan, this is the first chickenpox +they've had up there since the summer we came. We'd been married a +month or so, and you weren't quite sure whether you liked me or not. +Do you remember?" + +"I remember that first summer," said he. "It's the only part of +those seven years that I do want to remember. But the chickenpox +part of it had escaped me." + +"Well, of course," his wife admitted, "in those days children's +diseases were nothing whatever in our lives. But when Johnny Hewitt +refers to it as that wonderful summer seven years ago, I have +discovered that he means it was wonderful because he saved +forty-three out of forty-three cases, not because you and I had +married each other to please your mother, and were finding out that +it was rather nice." + +"I'll be hanged if I know to this day what possible niceness there +was for you in being married to a man everybody thought would never +get well," said Allan. + +"He was you," explained Phyllis matter-of-factly, sitting down on a +step to look at him better. "Anybody'd fall in love with you, Allan. +You know perfectly well that it even happens now." + +"Certainly," said he scornfully. "My well-known beauty and charm +attract all classes; they besiege my path by day and night. By Jove, +Phyllis, there's one now, the flapper I saw in the dining-room +lately. She's doubtless come over to say that she'll wait for me +till you're through, being young. She's pretty, too." + +Phyllis laughed, and patted his foot, the only part of him she could +reach without getting up. "Now, now--I meant no harm. You can't help +being attractive.... Why, it's the girl in brown, the one who +started out of a tree like a dryad, and showed me the way Philip had +gone, last night. She was the loveliest creature I ever saw. Look, +Allan, she's like a Rossetti picture." + +"She _is_ like a Rossetti," he answered, "but she looks rather +happier. Most of the Rossetti ladies I ever saw hoped to die of +consumption shortly." + +Joy, coming slowly over the grass on an errand from her grandfather, +kept her eyes on the ground, because that way it was easier to +remember the message she had to repeat up and down the rows of +cottages dotted among the trees. So it was not until she was quite +close that she knew Phyllis again. + +Philip barked her a cheerful greeting, and Phyllis rose to greet her. + +"I am Alton Havenith's granddaughter," Joy began, and then +interrupted herself joyfully. + +"Oh, it's my lady in green!" she cried. "You didn't see me when you +came back." + +"I looked for you," Phyllis explained, holding out both hands in +welcome, "but it was too dark to see you. I thought you had gone +home. Did you say you were Alton Havenith's granddaughter? I love +his poems. I'm Phyllis Harrington, and this is my husband. I'm +eternally grateful to you for helping me find my little boy. You see +I've made sure he won't escape again." + +"He isn't chained for life, as you might infer from that," Allan +explained. + +Philip ceased being a dog for the moment, and held his hand out +amiably to Joy. + +"I'm Philip," he explained, following his mother's example and +introducing himself. "They called me Philip 'cause it was the +nearest thing Faver could get to Phyllis. You see, they didn't know +there was going to be Angela. This is Angela. Isn't she pretty?" + +Angela, on being righted and shown off, produced her usual dazzling +smile, and gave Joy a sweet, sidelong look out of her azure +eyes--the look she knew conquered people. They were both, as Phyllis +often said, _such_ satisfactory children for exhibition purposes! + +"Oh, aren't they darlings!" cried Joy, forgetting her mission +gladly. "Will--will they mind if I hug them?" + +"Not a bit," answered their father, whom Joy had asked. "They are +practically indestructible, and they like petting." + +Joy knelt down, putting a shy arm around baby Angela, who, after a +moment's survey of her, kissed her frankly of her own accord, with +two tight little arms around her neck. + +Allan had an idea that the newcomer would be more at ease alone with +Phyllis and the children, so he made some excuse about golf (which +he hated) and disappeared. Joy sat down on the grass, with Angela +momentarily in her lap, and Foxy, who hinted that he, too, liked +kind words, at her side. + +She had never had so many people (counting dogs) act as if they +liked really her. Foxy and the children didn't care a bit whose +granddaughter she was, and Mrs. Harrington, too, had made friends +with her without minding. But she was conscientious, and she felt +she ought to go on with her errand before she really gave herself up +to the enjoyment of her call. + +"My grandfather is giving a reading from his works this evening," +she said, sitting up mechanically and crossing her hands, "and he +sent me to say that he would be glad if you and Mr. Harrington would +care to come." + +"We'd love to," Phyllis answered on the spot. "At his cottage?" + +Joy nodded. + +"It's fun," Phyllis went on, "leading this semidetached life, with +no responsibilities whatever. There's only one drawback as far as +I'm concerned; if Philip strays off too far somebody may take him +for a rabbit or a deer. The places where there's hunting are only +two miles away. That's why Allan and I were scouring the woods last +night for him. Usually we let him run away as much as he likes, and +the poor child can't understand the new arrangement." + +Joy looked down at Philip, who had curled himself into an +indiscriminate heap with the dog, and was taking a nap by way of +whiling away his imprisonment. + +"Do you hunt?" she asked. + +Phyllis shook her head. + +"The way the gun bangs when it goes off worries me. I believe +there's a bangless gun, but even so, you're expected to kill things, +and I think the things are much happier alive. I don't even like the +taste of them cooked. But Allan hunts. He brings game-bags full of +poor little dead things back whenever he's where he can do it. He +hasn't yet, here. We just came, you know." + +"I'm so glad you did!" said Joy fervently. + +"We were like Old Man Kangaroo--we had to!" smiled Phyllis. "There's +chickenpox at our usual summer home, so we basely fled, leaving +Johnny to struggle against its fearful ravages single-handed." + +Joy sat Angela down, because she was beginning to wriggle. + +"Is Johnny your brother?" she asked shyly. + +Phyllis shook her head. + +"I haven't a relative on earth, except these babies--of course +Allan's more of a relative by marriage. No, Johnny Hewitt's the +family doctor, a classmate of Allan's, and a family possession. He +might as well live with us, he's so much about the house and garden. +I suppose this place is very good for the angel-children, but I'm +afraid that in a few days I'm going to wish I was back among the +roses, with Allan and Johnny and a banjo and a moon!" + +Joy's eyes lighted. + +"Roses?" she said. "Oh, have you a rose-bush!" + +Phyllis laughed. + +"'Do we keep a bee?' We have a garden full of roses. The gardener +hints mournfully that we ought to take prizes with them, but I know +perfectly well that would mean I couldn't pick them unless he let +me. So I've given him a bush to play with, and he does take prizes +with that. He's colored, so Allan says we have to encourage him to +have ambitions. He's married to the cook. Our having colored +servants shocked the neighbors terribly at first, but they're +hardened to it now. I gave an intelligence office _carte +blanche_ when I was married, and got the ones I have now; and +we're so fond of each other that I simply can't part with them and +get haughty white persons." + +Phyllis' one idea in those early days, as Joy learned later, had +been to have a summer staff who were cheerful. The intelligence +office woman had, naturally, chosen happy-minded darkies. And happy +they still remained; also adoring. + +The neighbors, though Phyllis did not state this, from being shocked +had become passionately envious. Servants who had stayed eight years +without a change, merely one addition, were things to be watched +hungrily. + +"I beg your pardon, but it's luncheon-time, Mrs. Harrington," said +the children's nurse at this point, appearing in the doorway. "May I +have the children?" + +Phyllis bent over the sleeping boy and dog and unfastened her son. +The nurse gathered him up affectionately, and went in search of +Angela, who had strayed around the corner of the house a little +while before. + +"Oh, I must go," cried Joy, starting to her feet. "They'll be +wondering where I am. And I haven't been to half the cottages." + +She turned to go, then looked back at Phyllis wistfully. + +"Think of it," she breathed. "A garden full of roses, and two men, +and a banjo, and a moon!" + +Her hands locked together over the invisible wishing ring. She +wondered if there was a garden like that anywhere that _he_ lived. + +Phyllis Harrington looked thoughtfully after her. There was +something about Joy Havenith that always made people eager to do +pleasant things for her, and watch her enjoying them. She did get so +much pleasure out of life whenever it let her. + +"It won't be my fault," said Phyllis, coming to a determination, "if +that child doesn't get a chance at the garden and the moon, and the +men, too!" + +When Phyllis made up her mind it generally stayed made. Accordingly, +she went to the reading that night, and afterwards made herself as +lovely to the Haveniths as she knew how, which was a good deal. She +asked them to have tea with her the next day, and continued to be +lovely. She also managed to give them a very fair idea of everything +they might be supposed to need to know about the Harrington family. +When she had finished they had discovered several mutual friends, a +meeting with Mr. Harrington's late mother abroad, the genealogies of +both Allan and Phyllis, and even a common ancestor somewhere in the +seventeen-nineties on Allan's side. The Haveniths thought it had all +just transpired, but Phyllis had really been tactfully offering +references. After about a week of pleasant friendship Phyllis +produced her invitation. + +She wanted to take Joy home with her for the last part of September +and the first part of October. Joy was wild with delight at the +idea; but her grandparents would not let her go. They never had +before, and it didn't occur to them that they could now. + +"Just for a little while?" she pleaded. + +But her grandparents were firm. + +"Under no circumstances could we let you go away from us, dear," +said her grandfather firmly. "I am an old man, and the time will +come soon enough when I shall be with you no longer. If you loved +me, you would not ask it. When your lover comes it will be time +enough." + +It sounded true enough. Joy did not exactly know how to meet it. +Then she brightened up. + +"If you let me go for a little while, I'm sure I'd miss you +dreadfully, and love you more than ever. I'm sure I would!" + +But Grandfather didn't intend to part with his little girl on any +such premise as that, and Grandmother was sure something dreadful +would happen if she was allowed to go. + +"There is no excuse for it, unless you were engaged to be married, +dear, and going on a visit to your prospective people-in-law," she +said. "I couldn't let you go off without me otherwise." + +It was too tempting. Before she thought, Joy had spoken. + +"If I were, would it be all right?" she asked. + +Grandfather answered her, somewhat at length. + +"My dear child, you know my feelings about love. I myself married +your grandmother after a two days' courtship, when she was seventeen +and I was twenty-one; and I may say that I have never regretted +it--nor, I hope, has she. If you were affianced, nothing should +cause me to interfere with the course of true love. Your grandmother +and I would let you go to visit his people willingly. Your assurance +that you loved him----" + +Joy leaned forward, her eyes blazing with excitement. + +"And suppose I told you I was engaged, would you let me go to visit +Phyllis, if she lived near him, and--and his people were so situated +that he couldn't have me?" + +Grandfather was perfectly certain that Joy was no more engaged than +old Elizabeth the cook was, and he went on placidly with his +hypothetical case, which was also his hobby. + +"If I had met the young man, received him socially, even once, my +child, you may be sure, under those circumstances, you might go. One +has no right to interfere with----" + +Grandmother in the background wasn't so sure, her eager little face +said, but she was a very obedient and adoring wife. + +Joy interrupted him. He had given her a loophole, and she was +desperate to go. She couldn't wait forever for the lover! + +"Grandfather, I--I _am_ engaged! I met him at one of your +receptions, and so did you, _quite_ socially. You--I know you +must have met him, and liked him, too--everybody does." + +It was a terrible thing to do, and Joy's heart beat fast. But surely +the Wishing-Ring Man wouldn't mind--he would never know even! And +Grandfather had talked so long about giving her up at sight to that +hypothetical lover, that he might almost have been said to put the +wickedness into her head. And if she waited for a real one she might +wander alone about the parlors till she was an old, old maid with +trailing gray braids. + +There was a frozen silence. + +"En-gaged?" said Grandfather faintly. + +Grandfather had a code all to himself. He didn't know it, being a +man, but he had. It forbade ever being taken by surprise, ever being +at a loss, ever being in the wrong, or ever contradicting himself. +This made for great respect, given to him by the world at large, his +family, and himself; but it put him at a terrible disadvantage in +things like this. He couldn't go back on what the great Alton +Havenith had said for many years. Joy, shivering but desperate, knew +this perfectly well, though she didn't formulate it. + +"You always hoped for it," she told him firmly. + +"I--I did," said Grandfather with an obvious discomfort, but with +unabated loyalty to himself. Then he snatched at a pretext. Poor +little Grandmother's, hands were opening and shutting, but she was +well trained, and she didn't speak till he was through dealing with +the situation. + +"Can your friends vouch for him socially?" Grandfather demanded. + +Joy's alert, frightened mind scurried about for a moment, then she +plunged into further fabrications. + +"He's--why, Grandfather, he's their closest friend, the one they +call Johnny. He--he lives near them." + +Grandfather was entirely what the profane would call up a tree. He +had been giving his consent for some seventeen years. And Joy had +swept the ground from under his feet. He did not in the least +remember meeting this amazing lover at any of his receptions, but +there had been a tradition for many years that he never forgot a +name or a face. Now he _had_ been doing it for two or three +seasons past, but he never admitted it to himself, and nobody else +dared admit it, either. + +As for the truth of what Joy said, it did not occur to him to doubt +that. Joy had never told them anything but the truth in her life. As +a matter of fact, there had never been anything for her to deceive +them about. But that did not dawn on him. + +There was another frozen silence. Grandfather was checkmated. + +Joy had not intended to do it, of set purpose. She respected +Grandfather too thoroughly. But she was struggling for the only +piece of happiness that had ever come her way in the whole of her +placid, tranced little life. + +"In that case, my dear," Grandfather pronounced slowly, "I give my +consent. What did you say the young man's name was?" + +"John," she said faintly, bending her head, and coloring hotly and +suddenly. She had just remembered that the Wishing-Ring Man's name +really was Jack, and she hadn't meant to use _that_ name. That +was private. + +"That makes it a little better," said Grandmother; why, Joy did not +see or know until much too late. "His name is Hewitt. You remember +Mrs. Harrington's discussing him with us, Alton." ... Then all her +obedience to Grandfather did not keep her from putting her arms +around Joy and beginning to cry. + +"Oh, my dear, my dearest," she said. "Why didn't you confide in me +about it? You know I would have been so interested!" + +Joy had a little lump in her throat, and she almost cried out, "I'm +not, Grandmother!" + +But she had all Grandfather's pride, and--and besides, she had gone +this far--how could she go back? + +Grandfather interposed, struggling hard with his natural surprise. + +"A little emotion is natural in this case, dear Jennie," he said, +"but you must make allowance for a young girl's shyness. The young +man, I trust, will speak to us about it." + +How she would explain to Phyllis had not yet occurred to Joy.... +There are times when an education in all the best poets is an +everlasting nuisance. + + _"Oh, what a tangled web we weave + When first we practise to deceive!"_ + +danced through Joy's head.... If only those fatal first sentences +hadn't popped out, and if she only hadn't been too proud to take +them back! + +Just the same she continued to feel that a month of life off with +gay, kind people her own age was worth almost any price; which was +exceedingly wrong, and got Joy into a fearful mess, as amateur lying +is apt to do. Because Grandfather rose up after this, with what +Phyllis called his Earl of Dorincourt air, and spoke. + +"There is no time like the present for the rectifying of an error. +We will go over now, and explain to Mrs. Harrington that when we +refused our consent to this visit we were unaware of all the +circumstances. Come, my love. Come, Joy." + +From sheer paralysis of will power Joy let him draw her hand through +his arm in his accustomed way, and march her off towards the +Harrington cottage between himself and Grandmother. She felt like +Mary-Queen-of-Scots being led to execution, and exceedingly +regretful that she had never learned to faint. Suddenly a wonderful +thought came over her. + +"Let me run ahead, please, and see if Phyllis is at home," she +asked, and ran ahead of them without waiting for an answer. + +It was golden, late afternoon, and she could see Phyllis on her +veranda. She was lying in the hammock with little Angela nestled +beside her, and Philip constructing something monumental with screws +and wires on the floor by them. She had apparently been telling them +a quite unexpurgated edition of Little Red-Riding-Hood, for as Joy +flew up the steps Philip swerved with a startled look. + +"Do you think there could be a wolf after Joy?" he inquired of his +mother. + +"Phyllis, please, I want to talk to you alone," Joy panted. "I have +to tell you before _they_ get here. And--" she laughed a little +breathlessly--"it isn't fit for the children's ears." + +"You don't know what their ears are used to," Phyllis answered +leisurely. "Philip, darling, you can go and hunt for your friend Mr. +Jones on the links, if you want to." + +Philip dashed off, grinning happily. He had hopes, which his mother +was not supposed to know (but did), of being allowed to caddy some +glorious day, if he watched his opportunity. + +"Oh, Phyllis, I'm in dreadful trouble, and please won't you help +me?" Joy began, flinging herself close to the hammock and clutching +its edge with one nervous hand. "Please help me--" + +"Of course," said Phyllis. "What's it about?" + +But Joy had delayed her story too long. Before Phyllis had more than +made her rash promise of help the elder Haveniths were upon her. +Phyllis rose to her feet to greet them, with an air of gracious +courtesy which the infant swinging beside her scarcely impaired at all. + +"We have brought our little girl over, my dear Mrs. Harrington, to +tell you that we have reconsidered our decision," Mr. Havenith +stated, sweeping his broad Panama from his wonderful white hair. +"The information Joy has brought us--" + +He was interrupted by the appearance round the corner of the cottage +of two men. One was Allan Harrington. The other-- + +"Here's Johnny, Phyllis," Allan called joyously. "His old epidemic's +all over, everybody either killed or cured. He was actually on the +right train, the one he said he'd take." + +Joy's heart turned over. This was a doubly dreadful thing she had +brought on herself. + +It was the Wishing-Ring Man! + + + + + + +CHAPTER FOUR + +THE RESCUE OF THE PRINCESS + +For one awful moment nobody spoke. John Hewitt, having no key to the +situation, was quite unembarrassed. So was Angela, who wriggled +herself to earth with a rapturous shriek of "Johnny! Johnny! +Cakies!" + +Hewitt gathered up Angela, and, followed by his host, came up the steps, +to where Phyllis stood, tall and gracious, with Joy clinging to her. + +"Why, it's little Joy!" he said surprisedly, smiling at her as he +took Phyllis' hand. "Where did you find her, Phyllis?" + +Joy clung closer to Phyllis, waiting for the storm to break, for Mr. +Havenith was stepping forward now, holding a courteous, if dazed, +hand to the man his granddaughter had elected as her fiance. He +spoke before Phyllis could answer. + +"And so you are my little girl's betrothed!" he said with rather +stiff courtesy. "Ah--yes. I remember you, sir." + +John Hewitt's gray eyes moved from Phyllis, standing there obviously +quite taken by surprise, to Joy, clinging to her burning-cheeked, in +what was quite as obviously an agony of terror. He caught his breath +for a moment, moved forward and opened his lips to speak, then shut +them again firmly and stood still where he was, with the afternoon +sunlight glinting over his fair head, and little Angela's more +golden one, pressed close beside it. As he remained still, his eyes +rested gravely on Joy: the very little princess of the fairytale, +with the dragon imminent at any moment. She looked very piteous and +terrified and small; not more than fifteen, and unbearably afraid of +him, with her black-framed blue eyes fixed on his in an appeal as +agonized as it was unconscious. He caught his breath again, then +turned to answer her grandfather, his decision made. + +"I am glad you remember me, sir," he said gravely, "and exceedingly +glad that you are willing Joy should--" + +Joy gave a long shudder of relief, and relaxed all over. He was not +going to put her to shame there before all of them. She would have +time to explain. She would not have her visit, but that, even, +seemed a small thing beside the dreadful danger she had just +escaped. She could tell him when they were alone. + +Grandmother was coming forward now, to speak to him, where he stood, +straight and dignified and handsome, with the little girl still on +one arm. + +"You are my old friend Grace Carpenter's son, as I was just telling +Mr. Havenith. Edith Carpenter's nephew.... I--I am glad you are a +friend's son," Grandmother finished tremulously. + +John set Angela down and took Grandmother's hand, saying something +to her gently--Joy never knew what. She had stood enough. + +Phyllis felt Joy's hand pull out of hers. The inn-cottages were all +built alike, so Joy knew perfectly well how to bolt through the +front door, through the living-room to the back door and away. +Viola, mending a little sock, caught a glimpse of flying skirts and +flying braids. + +"Them red-haired folks certainly is tempestuous, but they's +gitters," she remarked to herself philosophically, and went on with +her mending. + +Outside, Phyllis looked at Allan and Allan looked at Phyllis. There +didn't seem much to say about it. At last Allan spoke, in a way that +he and Phyllis agreed afterwards was painfully inadequate, but was +all he could think of to say. + +"Ah--would you like to put away your suitcase, old man?" he +inquired. "You must be tired of--of seeing it there." + +Phyllis gurgled under her breath, but every one else was deadly +serious. Nobody seemed to see anything funny about the offer. + +"Thank you very much," John responded solemnly. "Yes, thank you, +Harrington, I believe I would." + +He bent over and picked it up, and followed his host inside. + +Neither of them said anything as they went upstairs. + +"Here's your room," Allan offered, showing it politely. + +"So it is," murmured John in a quite expressionless voice, looking +at it without seeming to know how to enter. + +"It's to live in, you know," Allan suggested. + +At this broad hint John went in and put his suitcase on the bed. He +still appeared to be in more or less of a trance-state. + +"If we'd known, we'd have tied a little white ribbon here and there, +and arranged a rice-cascade--a shower, isn't it? or something," +continued his host, amiably. "Awfully sorry, old chap, but you +shouldn't have been so darn secretive. But we'll do our best--" + +John awoke at this, and caught up a small pink pincushion which sat +in the mathematical middle of his dresser, and threw it. It didn't +hit Allan, because he dodged. + +"That's one of Phyllis' favorite pincushions," he warned John from +outside the door. "I say, Johnny, this isn't any way to repay +hospitality." + +He went on down the stair, and John could see his shoulders shaking. + +"They've both got too confounded much sense of humor," said John +bitterly. + +But he went out and picked up the pincushion just the same, and +addressed himself to the methodical unpacking of his suitcase. + +"Oh, I forgot! Congratulations!" Allan called cheerily up from the +stair-foot. + +John, casting collars automatically from suitcase to dresser-top, +growled. + +"Congratulations! I need prayers more!" he said under his breath. +"But--poor little thing! I might as well have stepped on a +kitten! ... I certainly did tell her to hope for better things and +they'd come.... I didn't know I was going to be one of 'em!" + +Then, as he continued to unpack he grinned in spite of himself, for +into his mind came a poem of Guiterman's he'd read lately, about an +agnostic Brahmin who didn't believe in prayer, and came +inadvertently on a tiger praying for a meal in the jungle: + + _"The trustful Tiger closed his prayer-- + Behold--a Brahmin trembling there! + The Brahmin never scoffed a whit. + The Prayer had answer_.--He _was_ It." + +"I wonder," mused John, "whether she's a kitten, or a tiger? Anyway, +_I_ was _It_! ... I can't stand any more of anything just now. +I'll get out till dinner-time!" + +He tiptoed downstairs, and in his turn slid out the back door. The +Haveniths were still talking to the Harringtons on the front +veranda, he noted with a certain pleasure in their durance, and +Phyllis' back looked polite but tired. He headed for the adjacent +woods, diving into the leafy coolness with a feeling of escape. The +wood blew cool and a little moist, and fragrant with far-off +wood-smoke, and there was a feeling of solitude that he liked. He +sighed with relief as he rounded the turn in the wood-path. + +And there before him, at the foot of her great oak, stood Joy, not +expecting him in the least. She uttered a little cry at sight of +him, and turned to run away. Then she thought better of it, and +stood her ground. Just what John might be going to do or say to her +she did not know, but she thought he was entitled to do almost +anything, and stood prepared for it, her face buried in her hands. + +John had been a little irritated at the sight of her, but her +evident terror moved him, as it had before. He was, through and +through, the best type of physician; a man whose first and ruling +impulse was always to help and heal, whether it was body or soul, or +only feelings. Joy, standing with her face hidden, felt him laying +his hands, smooth and strong, over hers. + +"Aren't you even going to look at the fiance you've picked out?" she +heard him say half-amusedly. "Why, I'm not going to hurt you, child." + +He took her hands down. She let him, and raised her eyes to his +kindly, wise steel-gray ones. He seemed to be regarding her in a +friendly fashion, and she dared to look at him friendlily, too--even +to smile a little. He brought to her the same sense of brightness +and well-being that she had experienced before, and her heart felt +lighter, though by every law of reason she should have been more +ashamed than ever, confronted with him, there alone. + +"Of course you won't hurt me," she said. "But--well, when you steal +anybody's name and get engaged to it, they have a right to be cross. +You can be, if you want to, and I won't say a word. I know very well +I deserve it!" + +John Hewitt _had_ intended to be cross--very cross indeed; but +with Joy's kitten-blue eyes fixed trustfully on his he found it +difficult even to be stern. He made an attempt, nevertheless. + +"Don't you know that a little girl like you isn't old enough to be +engaged to be married?" he told her severely. He sat down on a heap +of brown and scarlet leaves, the better to show Joy the error of her +ways. "What made you think of it at all?" + +Joy smiled. She was quite at ease now, with the curious feeling of +ease and happiness he always gave her, and she answered him calmly, +drawing a heavy copper plait forward over each shoulder. + +"It's these that have made you think so all along. I'm nineteen." + +John sat back a little, with both hands clasped over one gray-clad +knee, and looked at her again in the light of that. + +"It's hard to realize, I know," she said apologetically. She lifted +the wonderful braids and bound them crownwise around her head, tying +the ends together behind as if they were pieces of ribbon, and +tucking them under with a comb, from behind one ear. She anchored +them in front with the other comb, and smiled flashingly at him +again. "Now it seems real, doesn't it? And now I'll tell you all +about it--that is, if you have the time." + +He looked again at the lovely, earnest little face under the crown +of hair, and nodded gravely. She was not like any girl he had ever +known.... She was like the girls you imagined might exist, +sometimes, and wondered if you'd like them, after all, if they did. +He wanted her to go on, at least, and felt stealing over him a +conviction that she couldn't have done so particularly wrong. + +Joy felt the lessened severity of his attitude, and took courage +from it as she began. + +"You remember that day you came to Grandfather's? You remembered my +name, so I'm sure you do remember the rest. Well, that day I was +especially unhappy because--well, it's hard to explain the because. +Things were just as good as they always had been, really; only that +day I couldn't stand them any more. You know things _can_ be +that way." + +She looked at him expectantly, and he nodded again. + +"It was a forlorn little life for a child like you--oh, I keep +forgetting!" + +He laughed. + +"But even nineteen," he explained, "isn't particularly aged to an +elderly gentleman of thirty-four." + +"As old as that?" queried Joy. + +She looked at _him_ again in the light of new information, but +she shelved it for the time, and went on with her defense. + +"Well, that afternoon, when things were perfectly down to the very +flattest bottom--'and not a ray of hope to gild the gloom'--you +came. And things brightened up. You know you told me that if I hoped +along, things I wanted would come?" + +"I do know it!" said John with a fervor she did not understand. + +"Well, they did!" she announced, looking at him radiantly, and +pausing a little so he would have time to realize it. + +John Hewitt's patients had always told him that just his coming in +made them better, and he had simply accepted the faculty as useful +in his work. But he had never thought that his personality could +affect a perfectly well person. At Joy's tribute, unconsciously +given, his pulse quickened a little. Had he really had this much +power for happiness over the child?... + +"Almost right away they brought me to this lovely place," she went +on happily, "and almost right after that I met the Harringtons. It's +all seemed to me because of your wishing ring." + +"What wishing ring?" he asked, smiling indulgently at her, as one +does at a child's fancies. + +"Don't you remember?" she asked a little forlornly. "Well--you have +such lots of things to remember! You said, 'Just keep on believing +things will come right, don't lose heart, and they will.' I said, +'Like a wishing ring?' and you said, 'Yes.' I've felt as if I wore +one--played I did, I suppose you'd say. I--I suppose I really am not +being grown-up very well, after all.... Well, after I knew Phyllis +the best thing of all happened. She asked me to come stay with her, +and have roses and a moon, and children all day long. But +Grandfather always said I couldn't go under any circumstances but +being engaged.... And I was so wild to go--it just slipped +out--truly it did! And then--the gods overtook me!" + +She clasped her hands in her lap, and looked up at him--she had sunk +to the ground when he did, and was also sitting on a leaf-heap. She +tilted her head back against the big tree, and awaited her sentence. + +John felt for the moment exactly the mingled pleasure and +embarrassment that a man does who has been adopted by an unusually +nice dog. It is a compliment, but one doesn't know exactly what to +do with the animal. Joy sat and looked at him with what seemed to +him to be a perfect trust that he would be good to her. As a matter +of fact, Joy was merely pleased because he was there and not angry +at her. She did hope a little that he would offer to do the +explaining that they weren't engaged to Grandfather. But she was +quite unprepared for what he said next, after a little silence. + +"You're a brave little thing," he told her gently. "You shan't miss +your roses and your moons on my account.... I'll tell you what we'll +do, Joy. We'll stay engaged till we're out of sight of land." + +She looked at him with parted lips. + +"What--what do you mean?" + +"You shall go to Phyllis' just the same, child. We won't even tell +the Harringtons that it isn't true till we're on the train for +Wallraven." + +Joy stared at him, incredulous still. She could not speak for a moment. + +"Oh!" she said then. "Oh--why, you're the kindest man I ever knew. +But then, I _knew_ you were! Thank you ever so much ... but--are +you sure you don't mind at all?" + +"Quite sure," he told her. + +"Well--_thank_ you!" said Joy fervently. "And oh, if I ever get +the chance, I promise I'll do something for you you want. Just think +of what you're giving me--a whole month of being just as happy as I +like! We can go back to the bungalows now. I don't mind being +congratulated one bit after this--do you?" + +"N-no," said John a little dubiously. Then he laughed. "There's one +thing you've forgotten. There's always a ring when people are +engaged, even for four days." + +Joy said nothing to this. She watched him while he slipped a +curious, chased dull gold band with a diamond sunk in it, from his +little finger. "It isn't a conventional solitaire sitting up on +stilts, but it will do, won't it?" he asked. + +She held her little slim hand out for it, her face sparkling. His +were the long, slender, square-tipped fingers of the typical +"surgeon's hand," smooth and strong. But Joy's hands were little for +her build, which was not large, and the ring slid down her +engagement finger till she had to anchor it with a little gold band +from the other hand, pushed down over it. + +"I'll take very good care of it, and polish it before I give it back +to you," she assured him. + +He answered her on a sudden boyish impulse. + +"I don't want you to give it back to me. You're to keep it.... It +can be your wishing ring that you said I brought you, Joy." + +She smiled down at it, loose on her finger. + +"Why, so it is--my wishing ring!" she sighed happily. She turned it +about her finger, and he saw her lips move. She was wishing. He +wondered what, but she did not offer to tell him. + +"I wish that he may have the thing he wants the very most in all the +world," she was saying fervently under her breath. When she was done +she rose from the leaves, and he sprang up beside her. + +"There's one more ceremony," he told her, half-amusedly. "Even for a +four days' engagement, to make it _quite_ legal--" He bent +toward her, smiling. + +"Oh--oh, should we?" stammered Joy, her wild-rose color deepening to +rose-red. + +"I really think we should," said John solemnly. It was the nearest +to teasing any one he had come for a long time, and he found himself +rather enjoying it. Besides, in his heart lurked the feeling that +the child ought to realize that she might have let herself in for a +good deal, if she hadn't fallen into merciful hands. He was a little +ashamed of himself at the sweet way she took it. She merely held +herself quite still and serious, and lifted her face a little. + +John was a young man who always went through with anything he had +begun, and he bent over and kissed Joy, very lightly. + +"I'm sorry," he said. + +"I--I didn't mind," said Joy, trying to make him happy, for she saw +he was sorry, though she didn't know why or what for. + +"You dear child!" he said. "Well, I won't do it again. I was teasing +you, and I shouldn't. Come, we ought to go now." + +She fell into step beside him, still mystified, but very much +obliged to him in general, and they went back to the bungalow and +congratulations side by side. + +Meanwhile two very much surprised young people confronted two still +perturbed old ones in the sunset on Phyllis' veranda. + +"Now _why_ do you suppose," Allan demanded of the world in +general, "Johnny didn't break the news to us? I've rarely known a +man who liked secrets less. He hasn't even come over and looked +radiant with his mouth shut, as a normal human being would." + +Phyllis picked up Angela and gazed over her head as she considered. +She had a way of using Angela as most women do knitting or embroidery: +as something to have in her hands when she wanted to think. + +"It was certainly a case of very silent emotion," she said +contemplatively. + +"What was there a case of, Mother?" demanded Philip, reappearing, +very dusty, and climbing up on all of her that Angela didn't occupy, +thereby damaging fatally the spotlessness of her crinkled white silk +skirt. "Is it something to eat? Did Johnny bring--" + +"Johnny brought the rather surprising news that he and Joy are going +to be married," his mother informed him, kissing the back of his +neck. She spoke to him, as she always did, in a manner entirely +unedited for children. If he didn't always know the long words, as +she said, so much the better--his growing intelligence was stretched +a little hunting them up. + +The growing intelligence was certainly excited now. + +"Married?" inquired Philip indignantly, voicing the feelings of the +entire party. "Well, I think it would of been politer to have let us +know before they spoke to each other about it!" + +It was no time to feed either of the children, and their nurse would +have been horrified, but Allan produced a box of marshmallows from +behind a jardiniere before anything more was said. + +"Here, my dear son," he said politely. "You deserve them for saying +that. 'Them's our sentiments,' too, only we hadn't quite decided how +to put it. Now go off and die happily, and only give Angela two." + +Philip returned thanks automatically, clutched the box and fled +before any one should interfere to revoke this wonderful gift from +Heaven. Angela wriggled her small, blue-overalled body down and went +in passionate pursuit. + +"Now, you mustn't worry about it," Phyllis said to Mrs. Havenith, +rising with one of her swift, graceful movements and putting both +arms about the disconsolate old lady. "John Hewitt is one of the +best men I ever knew. He's a rock of defense. Indeed, you may trust +him with Joy. Allan has known him since they were in college +together, and he has been our closest friend since our marriage. +He's--why, he's nearly as nice as Allan, and that's saying all I +_can_ say. Isn't he, Allan?" + +"As nice as I am?" said Allan, laughing and coming nearer to them. +"That would be difficult, you know, Phyllis! But, seriously, Mrs. +Havenith," he went on more gravely, "you can trust Hewitt to make +Joy very happy. He's one of the best fellows I ever knew. And he is +amply able to take care of Joy, if that is worrying you." + +"He's perfectly adorable to his mother, too," Phyllis interposed; +"and she's that marvelous thing, a mother who wishes her son would +marry. You don't know what a lot there is in that!" + +"True," said Allan teasingly, in a tone too low for any one but his +wife to hear; "it can't be carried too far, as I have reason to know." + +Phyllis had been rather unusually her mother-in-law's +choice--indeed, the late Mrs. Harrington had done a good deal more +in the business than she had any right to, and only Phyllis' own +sweetness and common sense and the fact that Allan and Phyllis fell +in love after their marriage had justified what old Mrs. Harrington +did in the case. And when it did turn out properly she was not there +to see, having died as soon as she had gotten her son (who was then, +as every one thought, hopelessly paralyzed) safely married. + +Phyllis broke off to say swiftly, under her breath, "I'll be even with +you for that, Allan Harrington!" and went on trying to console the +Haveniths; for poor Mr. Havenith sat, dignified and forlorn, trying +to look perfectly omniscient and satisfied and not succeeding a bit. + +After repeated assurances the Haveniths seemed a little happier, and +went back to their bungalow to dress for dinner. The Harringtons +sank back in their chairs with a sigh of relief apiece. + +"I don't care if Philip eats every marshmallow on earth, I'm not +going to stir till I've talked it over with you, Allan," said his +wife determinedly. + +She looked so pretty as she said it that Allan rose from his chair, +tipped her chin back and kissed her. + +"So she should gossip if she wanted to," he told her teasingly, +dropping back into his own chair before she could object, if she had +wanted to. "Go on, my dearest; say all the things you wouldn't say +before the Haveniths. I'm perfectly safe." + +"Yes, thank goodness, you are," acknowledged his wife. "Telling you +things is like dropping them down a deep black well, which is a +great comfort to a confiding person like myself. Well, then, if you +insist on knowing what my lower nature thinks of this performance, +it's my opinion that Joy and Johnny both ought to have their ears +boxed. I don't believe in corporal punishment as a rule, but if +there ever was a time for it--" + +"In Philip's words," suggested her husband, "it would have been +politer to have told us before they made up their minds!" + +Phyllis laughed. + +"I confess I rather agree with him," she said. "It was a little +shock. Just the same, I never came across any one sweeter or +prettier or more attractive than Joy, and it certainly is a comfort +to know that John's wife will be some one I can be friends with +without a struggle. You never _can_ tell what a man's going to +marry." + +Allan arose and walked up and down meditatively, his golden-brown +eyes fixed on the dulling sunset. He had spent several of his years +lying on his back, as the result of an automobile accident in his +early youth, and since he had been given back the use of his limbs he +never kept still unnecessarily. He had arrears to make up, he said. + +Phyllis watched him striding back and forth, tall and graceful, and +forgot all about Joy's love-affairs. For the moment, watching his +grace of movement lovingly, she was back in the days that had seemed +so happy then, but were so much less happy than these, when they had +had their first glad certainty that he would entirely recover. It +had taken less than six months from the time he first stood, before +he could walk easily, and another six before he could go back to +horseback--tennis and swimming had been later still. It seemed +sometimes to them both as if it had all been a dream, so active and +untiring he was now. + +"Heaven _has_ been good to us," she said irrelevantly, but +earnestly, looking up at him. + +"Heaven's been good to me, I know," Allan said tenderly. "I have the +best and sweetest girl in the world to spend my life with me..." + +"John would disagree with you," said Phyllis, smiling up at him +nevertheless, and flushing. "Allan, did it strike you that John +would have been just as well pleased if Joy _hadn't_ broken the +news to Grandfather right then?" + +"Johnny's like Talleyrand; you'd never know it from his expression +if some one kicked him from behind.... Not that I'd like to be the +kicker." + +"So if he looked surprised, which he certainly did," pursued Phyllis +decisively, "he was _quite_ surprised, not to say upset." + +"Oh, not as bad as all that," said Allan, who was not given to +analysis. "I say, Phyllis, we really ought to go off and see if the +children aren't dying under a tree somewhere." + +"They are not," said the children's mother firmly. "You know Angela +is much more under Philip's thumb than she is yours or mine or +Viola's, and he's a martinet where she's concerned. She'll never get +more than her legal two marshmallows, and a boxful won't hurt +_him_." + +"You're such a blessing, Phyllis," he answered irrelevantly. "Before +the children came I used to wonder a little whether they wouldn't +get in the way of my enjoyment of your society; but you didn't die +and turn into a mother one bit. You've just added it on, like a +sensible girl." + +"Well, of course I'm attached to the babies," said Phyllis, who +would have died cheerfully for either of them, "but you'd naturally +come first. And they're much happier than if I were one of those +professional mothers who can't discuss anything but croup.... Allan, +it's time we began putting up triumphal arches. Here they are." + +Allan began to whistle "Here Comes the Bride" softly and profanely +under his breath, as Joy and John Hewitt neared them, but Phyllis +managed to stop him before he was audible. + +"She _is_ a darling, isn't she?" Phyllis whispered, as she +stood on the steps with one hand on Allan's arm. "Look at her, +Allan--she looks like a strong little Rossetti angel! Oh, I'm so +glad it's happened!" + +She ran impulsively down the steps to greet them, her hands +outstretched. + +"I _am_ so glad!" she said sincerely. "I don't believe anything +nicer could have happened, even if we _weren't_ notified!" She +put one arm around Joy, giving the unoccupied other hand to John +Hewitt. "And I think it's specially nice of you to stay with me +instead of with Mrs. Hewitt, my dear." + +Joy looked up at Hewitt appealingly. She was already beginning to +feel that he was to be depended on to see her through things. + +"I think Mother will want her innings sooner or later," he said. +"But we haven't really told either of you all about it. You shall +have the whole thrilling tale in the train. Suspend judgment on us +both till then, please." + +"Oh, there isn't any judgment," Phyllis answered gaily. "You needn't +try to get out of your engagement on our account, either of you. The +Harrington family registers entire satisfaction, doesn't it, Allan?" + +"We're both awfully glad, old man," said Allan for his part. + +Joy wondered, her heart beating with excitement, if they would mind +very much when they heard the truth.... But such kind people as the +Harringtons couldn't be very angry! + +She was beginning to feel irrevocably engaged.... Never mind--John +Hewitt would see her through. She looked up at him, and he smiled +down on her. + +"Let's all have dinner sent over here," suggested Phyllis +brilliantly, "to celebrate. We'll have Viola go over to the hotel +for your grandparents." + +But Grandfather, it appeared, had gone to bed to rest from his +excitement, and Grandmother, of course, was staying with him. So the +four of them ate together in the little green living-room of the +bungalow, talking and laughing happily. Joy, between Allan and John, +spoke very little. But she felt so contented and so in the midst of +things that she did not need to talk. She gleamed and shone like a +jewel or a flower, smiling and answering happily when she was +addressed: and John, looking at her, felt that his four days' +protectorate was going to be perfectly simple and easy to endure. + + + + + + +CHAPTER FIVE + +THE SHADOW OF GAIL + +Joy spent most of the next morning talking to her grandparents--at +least, they talked and she listened. Grandmother, now that the first +shock was over, took the news with the same sweet and patient +acceptance of people's behavior that forty-five years' sojourn among +poets had taught her. The fact that Edith and Grace Carpenter were +John Hewitt's aunt and mother appeared to comfort her a great deal. +It made her feel less that Joy was marrying into a strange tribe. + +Joy was pleased that this gave her grandmother relief. It was not +till the day of departure that she discovered what awful thing more +had been the result of the friendship. Indeed, it could have +occurred to nobody, although, as John and she agreed afterwards, +anybody _should_ have seen what was going to happen! + +For the remaining days at the mountain inn there was little +excitement. Joy kept close to Phyllis or her grandmother, and John +enjoyed himself in what struck the Harringtons as being rather too +much his usual way. It seemed to them that a little scheming to see +Joy alone would have been more appropriate. But neither Phyllis nor +Allan were given to being relentlessly tactful, or planning +situations for people. They reasoned that if the others really +wanted _tete-a-tetes_ they could manage them without help; and +doubtless would, once they were in the country. So peace and +unruffledness reigned in a way that was most surprising, considering +the real facts of the case. They continued, even in Joy's mind, till +almost the last minute, when she stood on the platform of the resort +station with Phyllis, Allan, John, the children, Viola, and the +bulldog, awaiting their train. + +Philip was having to be cheered and distracted: his tender heart was +nearly broken over the fact that his beloved Foxy had to travel in +the baggage-car, when he would have been so much happier in the +bosom of his family. Philip could not be restrained from pleading +the dog's cause at length with a fatherly baggageman whose heart he +had quite won in four minutes. + +"He has a green-plush chair at home that he _always_ sits in, +and nobody takes it away from him, not even company," he explained +earnestly. "He isn't used to baggage-cars--truly he isn't. He's a +wonderful-mannered dog. And father says that if he lived up to his +pedigree he wouldn't 'sociate wiv _any_ of us. You can _see_ +he doesn't belong in a baggage-car!" + +The baggageman, melted by Philip's ardent pleadings, was yielding to +the extent of letting Foxy's family sit with him in relays and cheer +him as much as they liked, when Grandmother dropped her bombshell. +At least, that was what John called it when they talked it over +afterwards. Joy always spoke of it as "the time Grandmother said the +awful thing." + +"Good-by, my little girl," she said. "I know Grace Carpenter's boy +can't but be good to you. And, darling--she asked me to keep it for +a surprise--I only heard this morning--but I know surprises aren't +always pleasant--and you're so young, you need to be prepared. Grace +wrote me she was greatly surprised by the news, though I'm sure she +needn't have expected to be told if we weren't--but she was very +sweet about it, and is giving a dance to all the nice people in +Wallraven for you. It's set for the evening after you get there. She +tells me she has arranged the invitations already, in a way that +makes the short notice seem all right. Grace was always so +ingenious.... Oh, there's the train--good-by, darling! Be a good girl!" + +Joy was aghast. + +"_Grandmother!_" she began. "Oh, Grandmother. I have to tell +you! ... I--oh, John, tell her! I can't go! I--" + +She turned to Hewitt despairingly. But he had not been listening: he +had been watching the argument between Philip and the baggageman. + +"Hurry, Joy, train's coming," was all he said, and caught her arm, +whisking her aboard. + +She pulled back, but that made no difference. He had her established +in a seat, with what Phyllis called his "genial medical relentlessness," +in spite of her appeals. + +"But I _can't_ go!" she protested weakly from her seat, as the +train pulled out of the station. + +"But, you see, you have," was John's placidly unanswerable reply, as +he stowed his light overcoat on the rack above them and laid her +coat over that with maddening precision. He smiled at her +protectingly. + +"Why, my dear child, what made you lose your nerve that way at the +last minute?" + +Then Joy understood that he had not heard the blow fall. + +If it had been anybody but John she would have been much more +embarrassed than she was, but by now she had come unconsciously to +feel that when things went wrong John was the natural person to come +to. He could always help her through them. + +"Grandmother told me--" she began, then stopped. It was pretty hard +to tell, after all. + +"Go on," he told her encouragingly. "Grandmother told you what?" + +"She told me that she wrote your mother, and your mother said--she +said she wished we'd told her; but, anyway, she's sent out +invitations for a big party--to meet _me_!" + +It all came with a rush. She didn't dare to meet John's eyes after +she had said it. + +She heard his long, low whistle of astonishment, scarcely suppressed +in time, and a lower, but quite as fervent, "Great Scott!" and then +silence. It was not for a full minute that she dared look in the +direction of his chair, which he had swung away when she had told +him. She gave one quick glance, then another longer one. She could +not see his face, but his shoulders were shaking.... Had it moved +him so? + +Joy was used, at Grandfather's, to hear of people being "moved." + +"I didn't think John was the kind of a man to have emotions outside +of him that way," she thought a little disappointedly, "but I +suppose an awful thing like this--" + +About then he turned himself toward her. He was laughing! + +"Do you think it's funny?" she demanded. + +"Funny?" replied John Hewitt, still laughing desperately, and trying +quite as desperately to do it quietly enough to prevent the descent +of the others, wanting to know what he was laughing at. "I think +it's one of the funniest things that ever happened. Talk about +Nemesis--if ever a punishment fitted the crime, this does!" + +Joy sighed relievedly. At least, he wasn't being angry about it, and +he might very well have been. She glanced out the window, which, +like the windows of most New England cars in summer, had evidently +been closed ever since John Hancock died, and glued in place. Then +suddenly the thing struck her as funny, too. They were in for it, +and by their own act. She began to laugh with him, quite forgetting +that she had more explanations before her, and as a really honorable +girl had no alternative but going back to Grandmother with her sins +on her head. + +"Oh, it _is_ ridiculous," she gasped. "I feel as if I'd +kidnapped you and couldn't dispose of you.... We really must stop +laughing, or the others will come down on us to know what we're +laughing at." + +"You won't be able to dispose of me till the visit's over, at any +rate," John answered her, sobering a little. "My mother and your +grandmother have settled that for us effectually." + +Joy sat bolt upright and faced him. + +"You mean you're going to let it go on?" + +"Why, of course I'm going to let it go on," said he +matter-of-factly. "What else can we do about it?" + +Joy's heart gave a spring of happiness. She wouldn't miss her visit, +after all! + +"We can find out that we don't like each other, and break off the day +you go home. I'll come back from the train very sad," he told her. + +"Thank you _very_ much," she said happily. "I thought I was +going to have to confess to every one and go back to Grandmother. +I'm very glad I needn't." + +"You poor kiddie!" he said, as he had said the first time he met +her. "Well, on this particular point all you have to do is remember +what Beatrice Fairfax says, 'Never explain and never confess, and +you'll be respected and admired by all.'" + +"It sounds like getting admiration and respect under false +pretenses," Joy answered doubtfully. But she dimpled as she said it +and looked up sideways at John under her black eyelashes. + +The effect was so unexpected and pretty that it set John wondering +why she didn't do it oftener. Suddenly a probable reason dawned on +him. When John Hewitt discovered anything wrong it was his prompt +habit to right it, and he did so now. + +"See here, child, I can't have you being afraid of me," he said +peremptorily. "When I told you I was a trial fiance, I didn't mean +that I was to be less of a fiance than a trial. If we're going to be +theoretically engaged for a month, we'll have to be friends, at +least, and friends trust each other, and know they can ask each +other to do anything they want. They know, too, that they never need +be afraid of either being angry at the other." + +"Then I'm to take it for granted that you feel as friendly toward me +as I do toward you?" she asked. + +"Why, naturally," he answered. "That's friendship." + +"It sounds much nicer than anything I ever heard about in my life," +said Joy enthusiastically. "But--are you sure I'm not the one that's +going to be more of a trial than a fiance? I--I don't want to be a +bother, you know." + +"If you are, I'll tell you," he promised. + +"All right," said Joy contentedly, "and I promise not to have my +feelings hurt a bit." + +She felt quite unafraid of him by now, as he had intended, for they +had been talking together as if they were exactly the same age--or, +rather, Joy thought, as if nobody had any age at all. + +"Do you know," she told him confidentially, "I _did_ want a +lover, back there at home. A real one, I mean. I saw a girl with +one, and you could tell there wasn't anything on earth so nice as +being lovers. But this is lots better--all the nice part of it and +none of the stupid part--for I suppose they were going to be +married." + +John looked at her curiously. + +"Joy, did you never have a friend of your own age, or any companions +but those old people of yours?" + +She shook her head, smiling. + +"Never any." + +"That accounts for you, I suppose," said he with a sigh, which +puzzled Joy very much. She had accepted as gospel John's order not +to be afraid of him; and she was talking to him as if he were +confidant, father and sister, all in one. That it might be treatment +a very attractive man wasn't used to never dawned on her, because +she had nothing to check up by. + +"Do I need accounting for?" she inquired, with another of the +sidelong smiling glances he approved of. + +She really wanted to know, but she was so contented with life as it +was then that she did not feel particularly distressed over it. Her +trial lover took another look at her and decided that perhaps she +didn't need to be accounted for, after all. She was wearing the +little golden-brown suit she clung to, with its little cap to match, +and her cheeks were flushed with the heat of that September day. It +was as interesting to watch her develop one and another little way, +he decided, as it would have been to observe an intelligent child. + +That there was some slight difference in his mind between her and a +bona fide intelligent child was proved by that fact that he would +just as lief that Philip had not interrupted them just then: though +the interruption was done with all Philip's natural grace. + +He was mussed and rather dusty, and the front of his blue Oliver +Twist suit bore an unmistakable paw-mark on its bosom. + +"John," he said earnestly, "if you don't hurry, Foxy will have been +alone quite a while. Mother says I mustn't stay wiv him any longer, +and he doesn't seem to think brakemen is people a bit." + +Joy gave a little gurgle of laughter. It reminded her of Mr. James +Arthur Gosport and how he loved brakemen. How shocked he would have +been at the pedigreed Foxy! She began to tell John about it, then +stopped herself. + +"But you want to go and sit with the dog," she said, as they laughed +over it; for Philip was standing, silent and reproachful, till John +should do his duty by the beloved animal. + +"I don't want to a bit," said John frankly, "but I suppose my +reputation with Foxy demands it." + +He rose reluctantly, quoting from the "Bab Ballads": + + "_My own convenience counts as_ nil: + _It is my duty, and I will!_" + +"Come out on the rear platform," said Phyllis, joining Joy as she +stared after the tall figure and the little one passing out of the +car. "It's the only cool spot. I suppose in the smoking car, where +Allan is, the windows are open, but this place is too hot to live +in. I wonder if there's any blue-law that forbids opening chair-car +windows. I always forget to tell Allan to get day-coach tickets on +this line, and it never occurs to him to do anything but perish in +the parlor-cars, having been brought up in the lap of luxury. So we +suffer on." + +Phyllis laughed as she led the way out to the little platform, and +held to the rail with one hand, letting the wind sweep past her. She +looked like anything but suffering. + +"Oh, isn't it one of the loveliest days that ever was!" she +breathed, turning to Joy. + +"It's one of the loveliest times that ever was," Joy responded +impulsively. "Oh, Phyllis, I'm so glad I met you!" + +"Glad you met John, dear child," Phyllis corrected. "So am I. Glad +_I_ met _you_, I mean, and particularly glad John did. We were +all _so_ afraid he was going to marry Gail Maddox. I think he was +getting a little worried over it himself!" + +Joy looked up, startled. + +"You mean--he wasn't really thinking of marrying some one else?" + +Phyllis anchored her hat more securely, and smiled down out of the +white cloud her veil made around the rose and blue and gold of her. + +"He seems principally to have been thinking, in his monumental silence, +of marrying you. But Gail was certainly 'spoken of for the position.'" + +"Gail!" Joy murmured worriedly. + +She had never thought of this complication. + +Phyllis nodded. + +"She's as nice as possible, but everybody could see how fearfully +they wouldn't fit--everybody, that is, but the parties concerned. +Gail's one of those people who are always dashing about aimlessly, +doing something because she didn't do it yesterday. And John's the +kind of a man--well, you know the kind he is: dependable, +authoritative, angel-kind, and deadly clever. He's not a _bit_ +like Allan," said Allan's wife, as if Allan were the standard +pattern for men. "If I didn't adore Allan too much to be so mean, I +could fool him a dozen times a day, and so could any woman. If it +meant John's life I don't believe I could hoodwink him, any more +than I could another girl. I suppose it comes from diagnosing cases." + +"We're almost at Wallraven, Phyllis," Allan spoke from behind them +before Joy could answer. "Better come in and get your caravan in order." + +"Coming," said Phyllis simply; and went in to assort her babies. + +But Joy had seen the look that passed between the husband and wife, +and it made her a little lonely for the moment. You could see that +they belonged to each other, and how glad they were of it. And +Joy--well, she was only somebody's pretend-sweetheart. Maybe nobody +would ever look at her that way... + +She clasped her hands together as she always did when she thought +hard, and felt the touch of her wishing ring. Her heart lightened, +for she remembered how kind John had been to her. Surely he couldn't +pretend to be so pleased about it if he weren't. And if there was +another girl, why, she was only having John borrowed from her. + +"It won't hurt her a bit," Joy decided. "And if she really is +flyaway, and all that, maybe a little anxiety will be good for her." + +In Joy's heart, too far down for her to find it herself, was a tiny +bit of defiance, and the old, old feeling, "If she wants him, let +her come and get him!" But she wasn't in the least aware of it, and +went back to her seat feeling like an angel. + +She found there John, looking perfectly content with life, gathering +up her belongings and his, and obviously expecting to make her his +complete care. When John Hewitt took charge of anybody they were +taken charge of all over; not fussily or so it was a nuisance, but +just comfortably, so that every care vanished. + +They got off the train, into the peace and spaciousness of open +country. The station was behind them, a little, neat stone station +like a toy dropped down on the old-fashioned New England +countryside. Joy caught her skirts clear of the car steps and +descended, John guarding her. She smiled down at him before she +sprang to the platform, and he smiled up at her. To any one not in +the secret they seemed like as real lovers as possible. + +As Joy stood there, waiting a moment, she felt arms coming round her +from behind, and, turning, startled, she found herself in the +embrace of a tall, white-haired woman with John's kind steel-gray +eyes and an impulsiveness not at all like John's. + +"This is the first chance I have ever had to kiss my daughter," said +a swift, soft-noted voice--not at all like an old lady's--"and I've +been wanting one for thirty-odd years. I'm John's mother, my dear, +and I forgive you both on the spot for keeping me in the dark. I +know just why John did it. He didn't want parties given over him, as +he's always saying. But I've foiled him completely... My dear, he's +picked me out exactly the sort of thing I wanted!" + +Joy kissed Mrs. Hewitt back willingly. This was just the kind of +mother she had always wanted, too. She spoke out what she thought, +before she thought. + +"Are you Grandmother's Grace Carpenter?" she asked. "Why, you're not +a bit old!" + +Her mother-in-law laughed as she turned to greet her son, still +holding fast to one of Joy's hands. + +"I know you don't like being kissed in public, Johnny, but you know +I always do it, anyhow. You good boy, to actually tell her I liked +having my first name used! He never would do it, you know, Joy, +dear. Phyllis and Allan--where are those two? I have their motor, +commandeered it to come down in. Mine had the fender bitten off by +the village trolley last night. Oh--they're putting in the children." + +Joy had scarcely time to answer, but she let her mother-in-law sweep +her along, and install her in the motor between herself and John, +who was holding Angela because Angela insisted. + +As they sped down the country lanes Joy sat very still, trying to +forget that this happy time would ever stop. Giving up John was bad +enough--maybe he would be friends with her afterwards if she was +lucky--but giving up John's mother seemed almost too much to ask of +any girl. + +"I'm _sure_ I'll never happen on a mother-in-law like this +again!" thought Joy. + +"How's Gail, Mother?" she heard John ask quite calmly as they turned +down another leafy lane. + +She flushed up, deep rose-red, as she listened for the answer. + +"Just back from the city, and more rambunctious than ever," said +Mrs. Hewitt briskly. + +Joy clasped her hands over the wishing ring and looked +off--anywhere--not to look at John or his mother. And in her anxiety +she heard a husky whisper from the seat behind her, where Viola was +restraining Philip and Foxy from jumping out into the landscape. + +"Don't you fear, honey. Mighty hard work getting a man away from a +red-haired girl!" + +Where her courage came from Joy did not know. But as she heard Viola +she sat up straight. And a light came into her eyes--the light of battle. + + + + + + +CHAPTER SIX + +ROSE GARDENS AND MEN + +"You can come in by the front door, if you'd rather be grand," +offered Phyllis, "but the only door we can coax the car anywhere +near is the side one. And we had to cut that through." + +They halted at a contented-looking old Colonial house set far back +from the country road. The grounds were large, and one whole side of +them was shut off from the road by a high Sleeping Beauty sort of +hedge that hid everything except one inquisitive red rose, sticking +its head out between masses of box. The other side of the house was +surrounded by a green lawn set with tall old trees. A tennis-court +showed at the back, and closer by a red-banded croquet-mallet lay +beneath a tree, with a red ball nestling to it. The whole place +looked sunny and leisurely and happy and spacious and welcoming. + +As the motor, after teetering itself cautiously down a side path +that had never in the world been made for motors, stopped, the side +door Phyllis had referred to opened, and a beautiful white wolfhound +sprang out and into the car, where he was welcomed tumultuously by +the children, and greeted without undue enthusiasm by Foxy, whose +disposition had not yet recovered from the baggage car. + +Every one piled out, and Philip and the dogs raced back into the +house and to the greetings of a couple of half-visible colored servants. + +Phyllis, alighting more leisurely, turned, with the graciousness +that was peculiarly hers, and smiled from the doorway at Joy. + +"Welcome, my dear," she said. "And I hope you'll never go away from +our village for good again!" + +Joy's throat caught a little. She was only a pretender, a little +visitor in this Abode of the Blest. But, anyway, the Abode of the +Blest was here for a while, and she in it. She looked from Phyllis' +kind, lovely face in the doorway to John, beside her on the step. +His face was as kind as Phyllis' and as handsome in its grave way. +For a month she was going to be happy with them, and she could save +up enough happiness, maybe, for remembering through years of life in +the twilight city house. She was here, and loved and free and young. +Lots of people never got any happiness at all. Joy knew that from +the way she heard them talk. They seemed to mean it usually. A whole +month, then, was lots to the good. She would take every bit there +was of it--yes, love and all! + +She put her two hands in Phyllis' impulsively, and kissed her as +they went in. The others followed. + +Philip, gamboling rejoicingly about the house with his dear dogs, +bounded toward her as she made her way toward the stairs. + +"I got something to ask you when you get your face washed and come +down," he called to her. "'Member to 'mind me." + +"All right!" she called back heedlessly, as she followed Mrs. Hewitt +up the wide, shallow-stepped staircase. Mrs. Hewitt seemed to have +constituted herself a committee of welcome, and was accepted on all +sides as being about to stay to dinner. + +All the rooms in the house were sunny, and at the window of Joy's +there tapped a spray from a rambler rose. There was so much to see +and hear and smell out the window that Joy had a hard time getting +dressed. She put back on her gray silk. Grandmother had packed all +the pretty picture-frocks for her, but she didn't feel as if she +could stand wearing any of them yet; but she was beginning to think +that these people supposed she had only two dresses. To tell the +truth, she was getting a little tired of wearing first the gray and +then the brown and then doing it over again. But she pinned the +spray of roses that had tempted fate by sticking itself in her +window, on the bosom of her dress, and ran down. + +She found that, much as she had looked out the window, she was +earlier than the others. Phyllis and Allan were nowhere to be seen, +and Mrs. Hewitt she knew was above stairs yet, because she had heard +her singing to herself as she moved about the next room. Philip, +exempted from an early bedtime by special dispensation and the +knowledge that he wouldn't go to sleep this first night, anyway, was +being wisely unobtrusive in a corner of the room, spelling out a +fairy-book. The only other occupant of the room, Joy saw, was her +trial fiance. + +It was the first time she had been all alone with John since their +talk in the wood. He had been sitting on the floor by Philip, +explaining to him some necessary fact about the domestic habits of +dragons. He made a motion to rise when she came in. + +"Oh, please don't get up!" she begged. + +She had been embarrassed when she first saw him, the only occupant +of the room (for small children are most mistakenly supposed not to +count); but, curiously enough, when she saw that he was a little +embarrassed, too, her own courage rose, and she came over quite at +her ease, sinking down at the other side of the convenient Philip. + +"You asked me to remind you of something you wanted to say to me, +Philip," she said. + +Philip looked up from his book amiably. + +"Yes, there was," he said encouragingly, if somewhat vaguely. "Thank +you for aminding me. I just wanted to find out--if you're sure you +don't mind telling me--why you never make a fuss over John. You +know, people that marry each other do. I saw two once--ever so long +ago, but I know they did. Lots." + +Joy blushed, but when you've come to Arcady for only a month, and it +really doesn't matter afterwards, you're very irresponsible. + +"Why, you see, Philip, the girl isn't supposed to start making the +fusses. You'd better ask John about it--some other time--" she added +hastily. + +But as she spoke she had to hold her lips hard to keep them +straight, and looked out of the corner of one black-lashed eye at +John, sitting at his ease on Philip's other side. She had never +found him at a loss, and she desired, most unfairly, to see what he +would do with this impertinence. + +"Why don't you, John?" inquired Philip inevitably. + +Joy had been so sure John would get out of it with his usual +immovable poise that her own remarks hadn't occurred to her in the +light of provocation. But Dr. Hewitt evidently looked at it that +way, because what he said was quite terrifyingly simple: + +"If you'll move a little, Philip." + +Philip courteously shoved himself back on the floor from between +them, and for the second time in her life Joy found herself being +kissed by a man. + +"I didn't mean that you really _had_ to start things right +away," she heard Philip, dimly, explaining in a tone of courteous +apology, "only when you wanted to, you know." + +"It's all right, old fellow," John assured him kindly. "I didn't mind." + +It was, indeed, quite a brotherly kiss, but even at that--and in the +resigned way John had explained it there was little room for a +girl's being excited--Joy felt a little dazed. But she didn't intend +to let John see it. She had rented him for the month, so to speak, +and, though it hadn't specially occurred to her, probably this sort +of thing was all in the month's work... It was as near as the +wishing ring could bring her to a real lover... + +She raised her surprising eyes to him demurely. + +"Thank you," she said with all apparent gratitude. "It was sweet of +you to do that for Philip." + +There was no answer possible to that, as far as she knew. + +"You needn't say anything," she went on placidly, but with that +spark of excited mischief still in her eyes. "Do you know, Dr. +Hewitt, I'm getting to be much less afraid of you. You certainly +have the _kindest_ heart----" + +Here the worm turned. He also got up off the floor, and stood over +her, toweringly, as he answered. + +"I haven't a kind heart one bit," he said--and was there a certain +sharpness in his voice?--"kissing you isn't at all hard--" + +"Compared to lots of messy things you have to do in the exercise of +your profession?" finished Joy contemplatively, cocking her bronze +head on one side, and looking up at him sweetly, her arms around her +knees. "_I_ know. I've read about them--I've read a lot. You +have to give people blood out of your strong, bared right arm, and +cure them of diphtheria, and scrub floors--oh, no, it's the nurses +do that. 'A physician's life is _not_ a happy one!'" + +She laughed, as he stood severely there above her. She had not +realized before that she knew how to tease anybody, least of all the +demigod who had rescued her from the shadows of the reception-halls +at home. But his kissing her had done something to her--it always +seemed to, she reflected--and his matter-of-fact explanation of it +had exasperated her to the point of wanting to pay him back. + +"He might at least have _said_ he liked it," she told herself +petulantly. And then after she had laughed, she remembered that if +he did anything too much--if she went too far--he could speak the +word and send her flying out of fairyland... But he wouldn't do +that. He was ever so much too noble, thank goodness! + +"People who are noble, really are a comfort," she said cheerfully, +aloud. "Dr. Hewitt, if you don't mind, my spray of roses got caught +in your coat. Of course, if you really want it----" + +He detached the spray with something like a jerk and dropped it down +into her lap. + +Really you could hardly blame a man for being annoyed a bit. To have +a gentle, grateful little girl you had nobly helped, suddenly perk +up and turn into something quite different--something dimpling and +impish and provocative--would be disturbing to nearly any man. + +John had no means of knowing, of course, that Phyllis had said +anything about Gail Maddox, though he might have remembered, at +least, that Joy had red hair and was likely to have a little of the +fire that goes with it. He looked at her all over again, as if there +was somebody else sitting on the floor where little Joy Havenith had +been--somebody rather surprising. He began to wonder about this +young person, with a distinct interest. + +"We've found her!" announced Mrs. Hewitt, much to the surprise of +the three in the dining-room, who had not lost anything. + +She and Phyllis came in with a triumphant air, and Angela. Angela +was in Phyllis' arms, and adorably asleep, with her goldy-brown +lashes on her pink cheeks and a look of angelhood in every round, +relaxed curve. + +"Found her?" inquired John, turning from his position looking down +at Joy. "Who was lost?" + +"Do you mean to say," Phyllis demanded, "that you didn't know we'd +lost Angela for the last half-hour?" + +"Well, she got lost so very--er--noiselessly," apologized John, +"that it escaped our attention. But she doesn't look as if it had +worn on her much," he added, brightening. + +"It didn't," Phyllis answered with an irrepressible laugh, "it wore +on us! I expect Allan's still hunting the grounds over for her--he +and the gardener. The gardener always uses a wooden rake with a +pillow tied to its teeth." + +Allan entered at one of the long windows as she spoke. + +"Oh, you found her," he remarked. "I thought she wouldn't have been +out of the house." + +"Where was she?" demanded Philip, John, and Joy in a polite chorus, +surrounding the center of attraction, who slept on. + +"Under the guest-room bed," said Phyllis, putting her daughter down +on a couch as she spoke, and going over to the table, where she +struck the bell for soup, and sat down. + +"I crawled under," interjected Mrs. Hewitt proudly, looking every +inch a duchess as she said it, "and there she was! She had eaten +every bit of cheese from the set mousetrap under it; I forgot to +tell you, Phyllis." + +"Good gracious!" said Phyllis as the rest sat down about the +table.... "Well, if it hasn't hurt her so far, it mayn't at all. I'm +not going to wake her out of a seraphic slumber like that just to +ask her if she has a pain." + +"You don't let _me_ eat cheese at night," said Philip +aggrievedly here, looking up from his plate. "And I knew that +mousetrap was there, and I never touched a scrap of it. It was set +the day we went away from the chickenpox." + +"You're a very high-minded child," said his father soothingly. + +"And there's charlotte russe for your dessert, Master Philip," +whispered the waitress: at which Philip forgot his wrongs and +brightened visibly. + +The meal went on rather silently after this, because everybody was +rather hungry. Philip grew drowsier and drowsier, till Viola stole +in and led him away, "walking asleep." The grown people went on +talking and laughing around the table. + +"With nobody to hush them so he could make a literary criticism," +Joy thought happily. + +Mrs. Hewitt tore herself away with obvious reluctance, about ten or +so, taking John with her. After that Phyllis said that she was +sleepy, but not to let that make anybody else feel they had to be +sleepy, too. Joy had been holding her eyelids up by main force for +some time, because she hadn't wanted to miss any of the talk and +laughter and delightful feeling of being grown up and in the midst +of things. So she went up to bed, almost as drowsily as Philip had +before her. + +Just as she was on the point of dropping off to sleep, with the wind +blowing, flower-scented, across her face, she remembered something +that made her sit bolt upright in bed and think. There was going to +be a grand affair for her at Mrs. Hewitt's house the very next +night, and she hadn't a blessed thing to wear! Nothing, that is, but +five art-frocks which she had determined in her heart never to wear +again. But--the wind among the trees was very soothing, and the +wishing ring lay loose and heavy on her finger. + +"You'll look after it," Joy murmured drowsily to the ring, and went +to sleep. + +Philip wakened her the next morning. He was very clean and rosy from +a recent bath, and he was curled on the quilt at her feet, staring +intently at her. + +"Did you know if you look hard at asleep folks' eyes they open?" he +inquired affably. "You see they do. Yours did. Do you mind dogs on +your bed, or Angela?" + +Philip was always so perfectly friendly that Joy was very much at +ease with him, which had never been her case before with children. +But, then, she had never met any intimately before. She reached out +a slim white arm from beneath the covers and pulled him down and +kissed him--an operation which he bore with his usual politeness. + +"I love dogs, and Angela," she told him. "And I don't mind them on +the bed a bit, if your mother doesn't." + +Philip assumed a convenient deafness as to the last clause, and +whistled, whereat his slaves, Ivan, the white wolfhound, Foxy, and +Angela, all appeared joyously and dashed across the floor, +scrambling enthusiastically up on the white counterpane. They were +almost too many for one three-quarters bed, and Joy, on whom most of +the happy family was sitting, could have wished the dogs a little +lighter, even while she gave Angela a hand up. Angela scrambled up +with intense earnestness and loud little pantings, and, finally +seated on a pillow in triumph, smiled broadly and charmingly, her +golden head cocked to one side. + +"Doggies went garden, 'is morning," she informed Joy, still smiling +enchantingly. "Oo--a _big_ hole!" + +"She means they dug a hole," Philip translated. "You can't always +tell when she's making up things that aren't so; but this is. It's +there now, with worms in it, and a rosebush that fell in. But I +washed all their paws in the bathtub," he added hastily, "and +Angela's frock-front. Didn't I, Angel?" + +"Fock-front!" said Angela, beaming and spatting herself happily in +the region named. + +Joy cast a wild look around her. Foxy lay across her at her waist +line--yes, there were paw-marks all over the counterpane, and Ivan, +who seemed to have had more than his share of the cleansing, showed +a distinct arc of wetness where his long body had lain at the foot +of the bed. + +Philip, following her eyes, slid unobtrusively from her side. + +"I--I just thought you'd like to see the dogs, and the baby," he +explained. "Most people do. Mother sent me to tell you it was nine +o'clock, and would you like to get up?" + +He made no further references to paws or washings. He merely +whistled again to Angela and the dogs, who were reluctant, but +struggled obediently down from the counterpane, leaving, alas, +distinct traces in all directions. + +"If you frow the covers back nobody'll see anything," he hinted from +the doorway, and was gone. + +Joy did not take his hint. Instead, she pulled the counterpane off +bodily and put it in the window to sun, and then went on dressing. +Things were so cheerful and sunny and funny in this house. + +"Oh, John was right," she thought buoyantly, as she braided her +ropes of hair. "Things do come right if you hope and wish and +_know_ they will!" + +The glitter of the ring caught her eyes, in the mirror, between the +bronze ripples of hair, and it reminded her of one thing that was +_not_ settled: her frock for the evening, this wonderful evening +when a party was going to be given for just her! + +She asked Phyllis about it as soon as breakfast--a somewhat riotous +meal--was over. She was a little diffident, because she was sure +that any sane grown-up person who was told that there were five good +frocks you hated would tell you you should wear them. But Phyllis +only suggested bringing them down and looking them over. So they did. + +"They all have queer things all over them that nobody else wears +except illustrations in historical novels, and they're all of very +good materials," said Joy sadly, laying them out one by one. "And +there isn't one I don't hate to wear. But I never could explain that +to Grandmother, of course." + +She looked at Phyllis with a wistful hope in her eyes. Phyllis +thoughtfully lifted the yellow satin skirts of Joy's pet detestation. + +"This is a lovely material," she said thoughtfully. "Is it the color +you don't like?" + +"N-no," Joy answered doubtfully. "It's the make." Then she burst out +passionately. "I want to look frisky!" she declared. "I want to be +dressed the way John's used to seeing girls. I--I want to look just +as pretty and like folks as Gail Maddox!" + +She checked herself, flushing and biting her lip. She hadn't meant +to say that! + +But Phyllis took it beautifully. + +"No reason why you shouldn't look just exactly like folks," she +soothed. "This is lovely, too, this silver tissue. Goodness, what a +lot of material there is in these angel sleeves!"... She held it up +consideringly... "Wait a minute, Joy, I think I read my title +clear." She ran out of the room, coming back in a moment with a +life-size dress-form in her arms, which she set down. + +"Here's Dora, the dress-model," she said cheerfully. "She adjusts." +In proof she began to screw Dora down and in to required +proportions, measuring her by Joy, who watched operations with +fascinated eyes. + +"I never knew you could sew," she said. + +"My father was a country minister," Mrs. Harrington explained, +flinging the green frock, inside out, over the steely shoulders of +Dora, the dress-frame. "I cook very nicely, if I do say it myself, +and till I was seventeen I did every bit of my own sewing." + +"And were you married at seventeen?" + +"No," Phyllis answered, stopping a moment from her pinnings and +speaking more gravely. "My father died then, and I went to work. I +hadn't time to sew after that--I bought ready-made things. So when I +_was_ married--that was a long seven years afterwards--I did +have such lovely times buying organdies and laces and things and +cutting them out and making them! That was the summer Allan was +getting well." + +She stared off at the wall for a moment, as she knelt up against the +green satin. "That was the loveliest summer I ever had--excepting +every one since." + +She laughed a little, then prevented herself from further speech by +putting a frieze of pins in her mouth and beginning to do something +with the dress with them, one by one. + +"Do you mind cutting into this?" she asked when that row was gone. + +"The more the better!" said Joy with enthusiasm. + +"It will make a stunning frock, with the silver net draped over the +pale-green satin... M'm. That silver iridescent girdle on the other +dress--the violet--can I have that, too?" + +Joy ripped and handed with tremulously eager hands, while Phyllis +swiftly cut away the sleeves of the green dress and slashed a +_decolletage_, and draped the net over it and pinned on the +girdle. + +"Try if you can get into that without being scratched," she invited, +lifting the frock gingerly off Dora and dropping it over Joy. Then +she wheeled her around to where she could see her reflection in the +tall pier-glass between the windows. + +"Of course, that's rough," she told her; "but what do you think of +it, generally? Are there any changes you want?" + +"Oh, not one!" Joy replied ecstatically, regarding the slim little +green and silver figure in the glass. + +"It needs to be shorter," meditated Phyllis aloud, and fell to +pinning it up to the proper shortness. + +Joy continued to look at it rapturously. It had been a straight, +long gown, and all Phyllis had needed to do was to drape it with the +net ripped from the other dress and shorten and cut it into +fashionableness. It was charming--springlike and becoming, and, best +of all, strictly up to date! + +"Don't you think you'll feel equal to being the feature of the +reception in that?" demanded Phyllis. "I certainly should in your +place.... That is, if you have silver slippers." + +"I have, and I think I do," said Joy gravely. + +"Then I'll hand this over to Viola to put the finishing stitches in. +Look out the window--do you see anything familiar coming up the path?" + +Joy, in her pinned finery, looked, then snatched her clothes from +the sofa, where they lay in state, and ran upstairs. John was coming +along the path, and she didn't want him to know about her frock till +it was all done. + +She came down a moment later, brown-clad and demure, and looking so +young and harmless that any man would have been sure his tilt with +her, of the night before, was a dream. She greeted him shyly, with +her lashes down. + +"Isn't--isn't it a little early for you to be away from your +patients?" she asked. + +"My morning office hours are just over, and I'm on my way to make +some calls in the car. Want to come?" he asked. + +"Thank you," said Joy. "That is, if you don't think I'd be in the way." + +"If I thought you would be I wouldn't have asked you," said Dr. +Hewitt matter-of-factly. "So run along and pin up your hair, child. +I don't want people to think I've been robbing the cradle." + +He smiled at her in a brotherly fashion, and Joy began to feel a +little ashamed of herself for trying to tease him, even if he didn't +seem to see it. She liked him so much, apart from any other feeling, +that it was hard to be anything but nice and grateful to him--except +when she thought of Gail Maddox. + +"It just takes two hairpins," she informed him, coming over to him +and holding up the ends of her braids. "You wind it round and pin it +behind." + +He took the hairpins and the braids, and quite deftly did as she +asked him to. + +"Hurry, my dear," he said authoritatively, yet with a certain note +of affection in his voice that made Joy feel very comforted. As she +flew to get her cap her heart gave a queer, pleasant sort of +turn-over. His voice made her feel so belonging. + +She sang as she went, and Phyllis and John smiled across at each +other, as over a dear child. + +"Oh, John, I'm so glad you chose such a darling!" said Phyllis +warmly, putting her hands on his shoulders, as "A Perfect Day" +floated back to them from above. "You know, Johnny, even the best of +men do marry so--so surprisingly. She might have been--" + +"'She might have been a Roosian, or French or Dutch or Proosian,'" +he quoted frivolously. "Well, Phyllis, I'm glad you approve of +my--ah--choice. How long do you think it will take it to get its hat on?" + +"Oh, you can laugh," Phyllis answered him, "but I know you're proud +of her, just the same." + +"Well, she's creditable," said John unemotionally, but with a little +smile beginning to show at the corners of his mouth. + +"I'm ready!" called Joy breathlessly from the top of the stairs, and +ran down tumultuously. "Oh, Phyllis, can't I have some roses to take +to John's sick people--the poor ones? I want them to like me!" + +"Help yourself." Phyllis granted promptly. + +"Not a bit of it." John contradicted her coolly. "You must teach +them to love you for yourself alone. Come on, kiddie." + +He tucked her hand under his arm and hurried her, laughing, down the +drive. Phyllis ran after them with a too-late-remembered motor-veil, +which she managed to convey into the car by the risky method of +tying a stone in it and throwing the stone. It just missed John, and +Joy nearly fell out, turning to wave thanks for it. + +John threw his arm around her hastily to hold her in, and so Phyllis +saw them out of sight. + +"You needn't do that any more," observed Joy as they sped on. +"There's nobody can see us now." + +"That, with most people," observed John amusedly, "would be a reason +for continuing to do it." + +"M'm," said Joy in assent, as he removed his arm. "You see," she +went on rather apologetically, "I never was engaged before, not even +this much, and I probably shan't always do it right.... Do you think +I shall?" + +"Very well, indeed," answered her trial fiance dryly. "I have always +heard that when you were engaged to a girl she took the opportunity +to torment you as thoroughly as possible. But I haven't any more +personal experience of the holy bonds of affiancement than you have, +my dear child." + +Joy's heart suddenly reproached her for having teased such a kind +person as this at all. She clutched his arm with such impulsive +suddenness that the car almost left the road. + +"John, I do want to be good to you! And I want to be as little +trouble as possible! And I want to have you _like_ me . . . and +respect and admire me just the way that--" + +"Just what way?" he inquired more gently. + +"Never mind what way," Joy told him, coloring hotly. "Only if you'll +please tell me what to do--it's hard to say, but I'll try to explain +what I mean. Haven't you always thought, just a little, when you +hadn't anything else to think of, that sometime there'd be--a girl?" + +John Hewitt looked straight before him for a moment, as the car sped +smoothly down a country lane. Then he nodded. + +"Yes," he said, and no more. He was not given to talking about his +feelings. + +"And you planned her--a little--didn't you?" Joy persisted. "I know +you did--people do. Well... John--couldn't you tell me a little bit +about how _She_ was going to act--so I could act that way? It +would be more comfortable for you, I think. And I--I want to." + +For a moment she thought he was not going to answer at all. He +looked down at her silently. Then he spoke, a little abruptly. + +"I never planned her in much detail," he said. "She always seemed to +be dressed in blue, or in white, and her hair was parted. She seemed +to be connected with a fireplace," he ended inconsequently, and +laughed a little at himself. "You see, I'm not an imaginative person." + +"I only wanted you to let me play I was that girl for this month," +Joy answered desperately, with her eyes down, speaking very low. + +John, who had been staring down at her in a half-puzzled way, looked +as if he was suddenly reassured that she was only a little girl, +after all--not a provoking firefly, but a wistful, unconscious child +who only wanted to do her best to please. + +"I want to be good," she said meekly. + +"So you are," said John warmly. + +"Am I?" she asked softly, looking up at him with wide blue eyes. + +And--John was getting to do that sort of thing quite unnecessarily +often--he laughed and bent toward her with every intention of +kissing her again. + +"Oh, that wasn't what I meant," she assured him. Then her mood +suddenly changed. "John, you have what one of Grandfather's +anarchist friends called a real from-gold heart. But you don't have +to do that unless..." + +"Unless what?" demanded John, quite coldly removing all of himself +that he could from her half of the seat. + +Joy's eyes fixed themselves on the distant scenery--excellent +scenery, all autumn reds and yellows. + +"I'll tell you the 'unless' tomorrow morning," she answered him +sweetly, but none the less firmly. + +"You are playing with me, Joy, I think," John answered in his most +diagnostic tone--the exact tone in which he would have said, "You +have smallpox, Joy, I think." + +"Why, yes," she answered him demurely. "We were to, weren't we?" + +"You'll have to wait out here a while; I have a case here," he told +her in a voice which held a note of endurance. + +She sat quite still, after suppressing a faint impulse to ask him if +she should hold the motor. She leaned back and gave herself up to +the country sights and sounds and scents, gently ecstatic. + +"Oh, Aunt Lucilla!" she was saying inwardly. "You'd be proud of me!" + +Joy was actually playing--he had said so--playing with a man! + + + + + + +CHAPTER SEVEN + +A VERY CHARMING GENTLEMAN + +"You look lovely," said Phyllis heartily. She herself was radiant in +a rose satin that made her look, as her small son remarked +ecstatically, like a valentine. "Mustn't it be horrid to be a man +and always wear the same black clothes?" + +"M'yes," answered Joy absent-mindedly. "If I look as nice as you do +I don't have to worry. But--but will Gail Maddox be very much +dressed?" + +"She will," replied Phyllis decisively. "If I know Gail, she'll look +like a Christmas tree. But don't let that weigh on your mind, dear +child. Nobody could look better than you do, if Viola and I did +combine two of your frocks into one. Could they, Viola?" + +The colored girl, who had been doing the masses of Joy's bronze hair +while her mistress, kneeling by the dressing-table, put the +finishing touches to some frock-draperies, giggled. + +"Well dressed? Why, Miss Joy looks like the vampire in the movie show!" + +"Final praise!" sighed Phyllis. "You never told me I was as well +dressed as a vampire, Viola." + +"You couldn't live up to vampiring, nohow, Mrs. Harrington, nor you +shouldn't want to, not with that goldy hair of yours," said Viola +reprovingly. + +"Virtue is thrust upon me, in other words," said Phyllis. "Evidently +you have possibilities of crime, Joy!" + +They went down, laughing, to where Allan and John were waiting for +them, Allan walking the floor in his usual quick, boyish fashion, +John sitting at a table reading, by way of economizing time. Being a +doctor, he had a way of snapping up odds and ends of time and doing +things with them. + +He looked up from his paper as Joy's light footsteps pattered down +the stairs, and continued to look at her. The green and silver of +her gown glittered and flowed around her. Viola had done her hair +high, and the wealth of it showed more, even, than when it was down +in its accustomed braids. Her surprising black brows and lashes, +with the innocence of her blue eyes, and the half-wistful, +half-daring expression she had, made her seem a combination of +sophistication and childishness such as John had never seen before. + +"Shall I do you credit?" she asked him softly over her shoulder, as +he held her wrap for her. + +Her heart beat hard as she said it. She felt as if she was going +into open battle, and she wanted all the heartening she could get. + +"Tell me now that you like me better than you do Gail Maddox!" was +what she wanted to say. But she knew she couldn't, not without being +thought a cat. "I can't get over finding motors scattered all over +everything!" was what she heard herself saying inconsequently +instead as they went out. She did not dare give him time to answer +her first impulsive question. + +But he answered it just the same. + +"You do me great credit, my dear. I never knew you were quite so +beautiful." He said it gravely, but none the less sincerely. "It's +very pleasant to remember that I have property rights to such a +charming person." + +Property rights! Joy's heart gave a little warm jump. If he could +say that--if he could even seem to forget that she was only rented, +so to speak... + +Before she thought she had reached up and caught his hand in a warm, +furtive grasp for a moment. She took it away again directly, but it +had comforted her to touch him. He was so strong and so _there_.... +Also, Viola's words comforted her; if she looked like a vampire, why, +maybe, with the aid of the wishing ring and Aunt Lucilla's ghost, +she could live up to it. Having her hair done as high and her dress +cut as low as anybody's also gave her courage. Altogether it was, +if not a perfectly self-assured, at least a very poised-looking +little figure that came smiling into Mrs. Hewitt's embrace from +the motor, with her lover close behind her, like a bodyguard. + +"You little angel! You look perfect!" said her mother-in-law-elect +rapturously. "And you match my lavender grandeur perfectly. That's a +sweet frock, Phyllis. Hurry down, girls, you want to have a little +time to rest before you have to stand up for years and receive." + +It was early still when they came down from the dressing-rooms, and +no guests had arrived yet. So they settled themselves in the +dining-room, informally, to wait and visit a little. + +"One has _no_ chance for fun with an earnest-minded son," Mrs. +Hewitt complained amiably. "This is the first doings of any sort I +have ever had that John was even remotely connected with. A nice +little daughter that would dance and flirt and turn the house upside +down--that was what I was entitled to--and I got a brilliant young +physician who specializes on the _os innominata_, or something +equally thrilling! I sometimes wonder how he ever found time to +annex you, Joy!" + +Joy colored. It was a random shaft, but it caught her breath. +Then--"He didn't," she said gallantly. "I simply rubbed my ring and +wished for him, and he came." + +"I'll be bound he didn't come hard," said her _enfant terrible_ +of a prospective mother-in-law placidly. "Johnny, keep away from +those cakes! They're for much, much later, and for your guests, not +the likes of you!" + +"They are excellent. We need moral support in our ordeal," returned +her son, sauntering up, with his usual dignity unimpaired by a plate +of fancy cakes in each hand. "Never mind your cruel mother-in-law, +Joy. Take a lot--take two!" + +"I will, anyway," interposed Allan placidly, reaching a long, +unexpected brown hand over his friend's shoulder and securing three. +"Phyllis and I need as much moral support as anybody." + +"Phyllis is the only one who is minding her manners," Mrs. Hewitt +observed with a firmness that she patently didn't mean in the least. +"Phyllis, my dear, go get some of the sandwiches. We may as well +lunch thoroughly. We have heaps of time before the 'gesses' get +here, anyway." + +They were all playing like a lot of children. Phyllis, flushed and +laughing, raided the kitchen with her husband and came back with +more kinds of sandwiches than Joy had known existed. They sat about +on cushions on the floor, because the chairs had been taken out for +dancing later, and the floor waxed. Joy laughed with the rest, and +lunched sumptuously on the cakes the guests ought to have had, and +thought for the thousandth time what an ideal mother-in-law was hers +at the moment, and how many of the people in the world were the +realest of real folks, and how much like Christmas every-day life +was getting to be... + +"I see you are eating up everything before the really deserving poor +arrive," said a slow, coolly amused voice behind Joy, who sat with +her back to the entrance. + +Joy did not need Mrs. Hewitt's equally calm "Good-evening, Gail. +Since when have you been deserving?" to know who had entered. + +"Came to help you receive," stated Gail further, still indolently, +bringing herself further into the circle as she spoke, where Joy +could see her. "I brought a stray cousin along--sex, male. I knew you +wouldn't care--men are a godsend in New England towns. Here he is." + +The cousin in question was evidently motioned to, for he appeared in +the range of Joy's vision with a charming certainty of welcome, and +the two merged themselves with the circle without more ceremony. +They had evidently made their way to the dressing-rooms before +coming to hunt for the family. + +While Gail introduced her cousin a little more thoroughly, Joy gave +her a furtive, but still more thorough, inspection. She seemed +twenty-five or six. She was very slim, with lines like a boy more +than a girl; sallow, with large, steady blue-gray eyes and heavy +lashes, and lips that were so full that they were sullen-looking +when her face was still. She was not unusually pretty--indeed, by +Phyllis' rose-and-golden beauty she looked dingy--but she had +something arresting about her, and the carriage and manner of a girl +who is insolently certain that whatever she says or does is perfect +because she does it. She had on a straight blue chiffon frock, cut +unusually low: so low that it was continually slipping off one thin +shoulder. Allan confided to Joy afterward that Gail's shoulder-straps +worried him to madness. + +Joy watched Miss Maddox with fascinated eyes. "I'm so _young_!" +she thought forlornly, "and all the rest of them are so dreadfully +grown-up!" + +She felt as if Gail Maddox, with her brilliant, careless sentences, +and her half-insolent confidence, owned everybody there much more +than _she_ did: and she felt little and underdressed and outclassed +to a point where even Gail might pity her, and probably did.... And +if there is a more abjectly awful feeling than that the Other Girl +pities you, nobody has discovered it yet.... Gail might even know how +much of a pretender she was. If John--but no. John wasn't like that. +He was--"fantastically honorable," she had heard Phyllis call it. +John hadn't told--he wouldn't tell if his own happiness depended +on it.... And Joy let her thoughts stray off into a maze of wondering +as to whether she would rather have her self-respect saved by not +having Gail know, or whether, if it would break John's heart to be +separated forever from Gail, she oughtn't to tell him to tell. + +Gail, lounging in a low chair she had dragged across the waxed floor +in the face of all outcries, with one electric-blue-shod foot +stretched out before her, looked exactly the person you'd care least +to have know anything they could scorn you about. She could scorn so +well and so convincingly, Joy felt, listening to her. There wouldn't +be a thing left of you when she got through. + +"I feel as alone as Robinson Crusoe," thought Joy forlornly. + +She rose restlessly and picked up the tray which had borne their +illegal sandwiches, with the idea of carrying it and herself out of +sight. She wanted a minute to brace herself in. + +As she did it, Allan rose, too, unexpectedly, as he did most things. +"Here, I'll take some of those," he offered, and helped her carry +the debris out. + +They set down their burdens on a pantry table, whence three +scandalized maids whisked them somewhere else again, gazing the +while reproachfully at the invaders. + +"I haven't any use for that girl," stated Allan plainly, as they +went back. "Don't let her fuss you, Joy." + +Joy looked gratefully up at him. The whole world, then, didn't +prefer Gail Maddox to her! + +"She makes me feel exactly like a small dog that has stolen a bone and +got caught," Joy acknowledged directly, with a little shamefaced laugh. + +"She'll do her best in that line," responded Allan, who seemed to +have no great affection for the lady. "Don't let her bother you. +He's your bone--hang on to him. In short, sic 'em!" + +They both laughed, and Joy came back with her bronze head high and +an access of fresh courage. She sat down this time between John and +the cousin, whose name she had not heard. But she began talking hard +to him. Occasionally she tossed John, fenced in beside her, a +cheerful word. He seemed perfectly satisfied at first, but the +cousin did not. He wanted Joy all to himself, it appeared, and a +fiance more or less seemed to have no bearing on the case, as far as +he was concerned. + +Presently John woke up to this fact and began the effort to +repossess himself of his lawful property. Joy cast a mischievous +glance at Allan, sitting on the arm of his wife's chair (chairs had +become the order of the day), and Allan grinned happily, by some +means telegraphing the situation to Phyllis. Every one was happy +except John, and perhaps Gail, who presently eyed the three and used +her usual weapon of lazy frankness. + +"It makes me furious to see both of you making violent love to Joy +Havenith," she said indolently. "Clarence, go start the victrola, my +good man. This must be put a stop to." + +Clarence lifted himself from the floor by Joy, but he calmly took +her hand along with him, and raised her, too. + +"She's going to christen the floor with me," he informed his cousin. +"Come on, Miss Joy!" + +The isolation that ordinarily doth hedge an engaged girl, where men +are concerned, seemed to trouble Clarence not at all. He was, by the +way, in spite of the fact that he would some day be too stout, one +of the best-looking men who ever lived. He had a good deal of his +cousin's lazy assurance--in him it sometimes verged on impudence, +but never beyond the getting-away-with point--and a heavenly smile. +His other name was, unbelievably, Rutherford, which almost took the +curse off the Clarence, as he said, but not quite. And if he had +gone into the movies he would have made millions, beyond a doubt. + +He drew Joy across the floor with him, in her green-and-silver +draperies, and began to wind the victrola, which had been tucked +into a nook where Mrs. Hewitt had vainly hoped it would be quite +hidden. There was to be an orchestra afterwards for the authorized +dancing. + +Clarence put on "Poor Butterfly," and encircling Joy proceeded to +dance away with her. + +"But I don't know how to dance," she gasped as she felt herself +being drawn smoothly across the floor. + +"That doesn't matter, Sorcerette, dear," said Clarence blandly. +"Just let go--be clay in the hands of the potter. I'll do the +dancing for two. Hear me?" + +Joy did as she was told, and--marvel of marvels!--found herself +following him easily. She was really dancing! + +"But why did you call me that?" she demanded, like a child, as she +got her breath. To her apprehensive mind the name sounded as if Gail +had not only learned her dark secret but had passed it on to her +dear Cousin Clarence. + +"Because you look it," said he promptly, in a voice that softened from +word to word. "...Harrington is a good dancer, isn't he? Phyllis looks +all right, but I fancy she guides hard. Those tall women often do.... +Why, anybody with brows and lashes like yours, and hair that color, +combined with that angelic please-guide-me-through-a-hard-world +expression simply shrieks aloud for a name like that. A sorcerette is +a cross between a seraph and a little witch. There's no telling what +she might do to you!" + +"Oh!" cooed Joy. + +It sounded like a very happy "Oh," and Clarence, experienced +love-pirate though he was, hadn't a way in the world of knowing that +Joy's pleasure came of being still undiscovered, not of his winning +ways. + +She danced on with him to the very last note of the record, +enraptured to find that she really could dance, and came back to the +end of the room where Mrs. Hewitt still sat; her eyes starry with +delight. + +"Oh, I can dance when I just go where the man takes me!" she cried. +"I never knew I could!" + +"You dance very well," said John's quiet voice from behind his +mother's chair. "Will you dance with me now?" + +Joy, regarding him, saw that he was vexed. Most people would not +have noticed it, but very few of his moods escaped Joy. He was a +little graver than usual, and his voice was quieter. + +"If I can," she answered. "I thought you were dancing this with Miss +Maddox." + +"I didn't think it would show proper courtesy to my fiancee to dance +first with some one else," John answered. + +Clarence had set the music going again, and was swinging round the +room with Gail. As it began, John, with no more words, drew Joy out +on the floor with him. + +She looked up in surprise at his words. + +"Why--why, I didn't know I was that much of a fiancee to you. I +thought probably you'd rather be with Gail. And--and I didn't know I +was going to dance anyway. I didn't know I could!" + +He looked down at her again, apparently to see whether she was in +earnest, holding her off for a moment as they danced. + +She hoped he would deny that he preferred being with Gail, but he +did not. + +"We are going through our month of relationship _right_," he +told her definitely, smiling, but looking down at her with the +steady, steel-colored light in his gray eyes that she knew meant "no +appeal." "Gail does not enter into it at all. But I admit that +Rutherford's quickness put me in the wrong." + +"If only," thought Joy, acutely conscious of his firm hold, "instead +of laying down the law that way, he would let go and admit that he +was angry!" For he certainly was, and it wasn't at all her fault, +unless going where Clarence took her was a crime. John _hadn't_ +thought of dancing first. Was he the kind of person who always +thought he was right even when he knew he wasn't? If so, maybe a +month _was_ long enough.... But the thought of the end of the +month hurt, no matter how unreasonable she tried to think John, and +she threw down her arms--the only way, if she had known, to make +John throw down his. + +"Are you angry at me?" she half whispered. "I--please don't be +angry. Nobody ever was, and I don't want to be silly, but I don't +believe I could stand it." + +He swept her rhythmically on, but she could feel his arm relax and +hold her more warmly, and his wonderful gray eyes softened again as +they looked into hers. + +"Poor little thing! I keep forgetting that you're just a child. +Sometimes you aren't, you know." + +"No, sometimes I'm not," Joy echoed. Then she laughed up at him +impishly. "You say this thing is going to be done right?" she +mocked. "Very well, then, when Mr. Rutherford is nice to me you +ought to be nicer. When he sits down close to me and tells me I'm a +sorcerette--" + +"A what?" demanded John swiftly. "See here, Joy, I'm practically in +charge of you, and you're very young, you know, and can't be +expected to know much about men. Rutherford is attractive and all +that, but he's a man I wouldn't trust the other side of a biscuit. +Any man can tell you that. Allan--" + +"He talks just like a poet," said Joy innocently. How could John +know that this was an insult, not a compliment, in Joy's mind? She +had seen any amount of Clarences--ignoring her, to be sure, but +still saying Clarence things to others in her hearing--all her days. + +"That may be," said John. "I'm no judge of poets, and I suppose you +are.... See here, Joy, there's an inhabitant--two of 'em--coming in +the doorway. Mother'll be wanting you to stand in a silly line and +pass people along to her, or away from her, or something. Come here +with me and we'll finish this. You're getting a wrong impression of +what I mean." + +Joy found herself being steered masterfully into a little semi-dark +room that opened off the long parlor. John planted her in a low +chair in a corner and pulled up a stool for himself just opposite. + +"They won't find us for at least ten minutes, unless we wigwag. +Now--what's a sorcerette?" + +His tone, in spite of his carelessness, betrayed a certain anxiety +to learn. Joy answered him with fullness and simplicity. + +"A sorcerette is somebody with coloring like mine, and a cross +between a seraph and a little witch," she replied innocently. +"That's what Clarence said. But I _think_ he made up the name +himself," she added conscientiously, as if that would be some help. + +John grinned a little in spite of himself. + +"I don't like the idea particularly of his making the name up himself," +he remarked; "but there is something in what Rutherford said!" + +"I'm very glad you think so," said Joy with a transparent meekness. +"And now that you've found out, isn't it time you went back to your +duties?" + +He looked at her doubtfully, where she sat in the half-light with +her head held high and her hands crossed on her green-and-silver +lap. He could not quite make out her expression. + +But he had not much more chance for cross-questioning, because +guests were beginning to come thickly, and his mother was sending +out agonized scouting parties for the feature of the evening. + +Phyllis, knowing the rooms of old, discovered her. She swooped down +on the pair, where they were sitting in the little dim room. + +"You wretched people, this is no time for that sort of thing!" she +exclaimed, shoving them before her. "Please try to remember that you +will, in all likelihood, spend a lifetime together. Joy, three +severe New England spinsters have already taken Gail Maddox for you. +Hurry!" + +The suggestion was quite enough, as Phyllis may have known it would +be. Joy whisked into her place, which was opposite the double doors, +between Mrs. Hewitt and Phyllis, and taking her burden of white +chrysanthemums on one arm, proceeded to be as charming to her future +patients-in-law as she knew how. + +Mrs. Hewitt and Phyllis cast glances of astonished admiration at +each other over her head. They neither of them had thought of Joy as +anything but a sweet child, or an affectionate child--a darling, but +shy and unused to the world. But she was managing her share of the +evening's pageant as if she had run a salon for twenty years. It did +not occur to them that the explanation was that she practically had +been brought up in one. She had been a part of the bi-weekly +receptions given to the small and great of the earth by Havenith the +poet ever since she was old enough to come into the parlors and +could be trusted not to cry or snatch cake. + +"Good gracious, Joy, _where_ did you learn to drive people +four-in-hand this way?" breathed Phyllis admiringly, in a lull. "I +_know_, if I'd had to talk to two Miss Peabodys and three Miss +Brearleys and a stray Jones _all_ at once, at least five of +them would have hated me forever after. And you kept them going like +a juggler's balls!" + +"They're not half as hard as the people at Grandfather's +afternoons," answered Joy. "He had almost every kind of +person--everybody wanted to see him, you know, and he felt it his +duty to gratify as many as he could, he said. Oh, Phyllis, +_ten_ Brearleys and Peabodys are nothing to trying to make +three Celtic poets and a vers-librist talk pleasantly to each +other!" + +"You're a darling," said Phyllis irrelevantly. + +"I see you've been working virtuously hard," put in Gail pleasantly, +sauntering up. "Now, _I_ gave up being noble-hearted to the +uninteresting some time ago. There's very little in it. I collected +a suitor or so early in the evening, and we've been telling each +other what we really thought of all the worst guests, in the little +room off. You ought to hear John's description of--" + +"She shan't--it's not for your young ears," said Clarence +possessively from where he stood, a little behind Gail. Gail had +three men with her--Clarence, John, and a slim youth who looked +younger than he proved to be, and who answered to the name of Tiddy. + +All Joy's feelings of triumph and innocent satisfaction in having +won the liking of Mrs. Hewitt's guests faded. She felt as Gail had +made her feel before--foolishly good and ridiculously young and +altogether unsuccessful in life. For a moment the mood held her in a +very crushed state of mind: then she caught Clarence's eyes fixed +upon her with a look of amused admiration. It spurred her. + +"I've been doing my duty by my future lord and master," she said +lightly. "But now you put it that way, he doesn't sound like a +worthy cause a bit." + +The men laughed, though Joy's words hadn't sounded particularly witty +to herself. "I'm going to abjure duty now," she went on hurriedly. +"The orchestra's playing that thing people can dance me to----" + +She held her hand and arm gracefully high, in the old minuet pose, +and laughed up at Clarence. _He_ wasn't supposed to be her +lover, and yet he saw through Gail when John didn't---- + +"By Jove, I can do the minuet!" he said eagerly. "Can you, Miss Joy?" + +She smiled and nodded. + + _"Grandma told me all about it, + Taught me so I could not doubt it,"_ + +she sang softly. + +"We'll do it--we'll do it for the happy villagers!" proclaimed Clarence. + +"Here, Tiddy, go cut a girl out of the herd, and find Harrington, +too. We're the bell-cows. All you others have to do is to obediently +follow us--the men follow me and the women tag around after Miss +Joy--which last seems wrong, but can't be helped." + +"Not at all," said John amiably. "Far be it from me to seem to steal +your thunder, Rutherford, but I, too, was in the village pageant +last year, and I minuet excellently. All my grateful patients said +so. You know, if you led off, they might take you for the man who's +going to marry Miss Havenith." + +Clarence couldn't very well do or say anything to his host, but he +looked far from pleased as John took Joy's hand and quietly led her +into line. Tiddy came up just then with a pretty, dark little girl +whom he had selected with great judgment from the guests as being +just of a height between Joy and Gail. He had also enlisted the +orchestra, for it began to play "La Cinquantaine" as they all took +their places facing each other. They were all laughing, even +Clarence. The guests, catching the spirit of the thing, began to +laugh and applaud, and--it seemed like magic that it could be done +so swiftly--formed two more sets in the rest of the room, while the +elders, against the wall, watched approvingly. + +"I thought nobody but me danced minuets any more," Joy whispered to +John as, her eyes alight with happiness, she crossed him in the +changes of the lovely old dance. + +"There happened to be a historical pageant here last summer," he +explained to her, "and there were eight minuet sets in the +Revolutionary episode, so we had to learn. Mother hounded me into +it. I'm glad now she did." + +"Why?" inquired Joy innocently the next time she met him. + +"I like to maintain my rights," he answered with a little gleam of +fun in his eyes. + +But Joy felt fairly certain that the gleam of fun had behind it a +gleam of decision. Certainly John's motto was, "What's mine's +mine!"--even when it was rented. + +They finished to applause, and as the orchestra ended its minuet it +slid on into a modern dance, and so did each of the couples, dancing +on out on the floor. + +Joy sank down at the end of the waltz on a seat by the wall, with +John beside her. + +He bent over her. + +"Having a good time, kiddie?" he asked her gently. She nodded, her +eyes like stars. + +"Oh, I'm _people_, at last!" she said with a soft exultance. +"I've always looked on and looked on, like a doll or a mechanical +figure--and I'm real--I'm in the midst of things! And it's all you +and the wishing ring! ... John, did you see? Your people--they really +liked me!" + +"Of course they did, you little goosie," he told her, smiling down +at her. "You have more personal charm than almost any girl I ever +knew. I don't know any one who doesn't like you." + +"Gail doesn't," Joy ventured. + +John shook his head. + +"You don't understand Gail," he said. "She's a mighty brilliant +girl. She doesn't often like other girls, I admit that--but she took +to you. I could see it." + +"Could you?" flashed Joy. "Men see so much! ... She's beckoning to you." + +She flung her head back angrily. Nobody likes to be told she doesn't +understand another girl--and the fact that the girl is mighty +brilliant doesn't make you feel better about it. + +"I'll be back in just a moment," said John obliviously, and went +with what seemed to Joy unnecessary docility. + +She stood there alone, her hands clasped hard, her head up--to all +appearance a vivid, triumphant little figure. Her heart was beating +like mad and her cheeks burnt. She had just found out something +about herself, something that a wiser, older woman would have known +a long time ago: as long ago as when the Wishing Ring Man stood, the +light glinting on his fair hair and sturdy shoulders, in the opening +of Grandfather's hall door. + +She was in love with John--furiously, wildly, heart-breakingly in +love with him. And she was going to have to live close by him for a +month, knowing that, and keeping him from knowing it--and then go +away from him and never see him any more. + +"This is our dance, Sorcerette," said Clarence's voice in her ear. + + + + + + +CHAPTER EIGHT + +A FOUNTAIN IN FAIRYLAND + +Joy had supposed, when she finally went to sleep at three in the +morning, that she would waken with all the excitement gone and +feeling very unhappy. She had always heard that it made you unhappy +to be in love. + +Instead, she opened her eyes with the excitement of it all still +pulsing through her. The fact that John was in the world and she +could care for him seemed almost enough to account for the sense of +happiness that possessed her as she pattered over to the window and +looked out. And what little more was needed to account for her +exhilaration could be found in the wonderful September morning +outside. There probably _were_ troubles somewhere or other, +such as darkened city parlors, minor poets, and sophisticated +seekers after John, but somehow she and they didn't connect. The air +was so tingling and sunny, and the garden was so beautiful, and being +young and free and in the country was so heavenly that she dressed +and ran down, and sang along the garden paths as she picked herself +a big bunch of golden chrysanthemums and purple and pink asters. + +Nobody else, apparently, was stirring yet. Joy was beginning to feel +hungry, so she strayed into the dining-room, to see whether by any +chance anybody else was down. + +Phyllis was just coming into the dining-room, with her son +frolicking about her. + +"How do you feel after your triumph last night?" she asked. "Dead; +or do you want another party this morning? I was proud of you, Joy. +Everybody told me how pretty you were, and how charming, and how +intelligent it was of me to be a friend of yours." + +Joy flushed with genuine pleasure. + +"Oh, was I--did they?" she asked. "Phyllis, it was _lovely!_ ... +And think of being able to dance like that without knowing how! +That was just a plain miracle, if you like!" + +"Good-morning, Joy," said Allan, coming in at this point. + +He sat down with them and attacked his grapefruit. + +"I see I'm two laps behind on breakfast. Philip, you young rascal, +where's my cherry?" + +Philip giggled uncontrollably. + +"Why, Father, you ate it yourself! _You_ ate it while you said +good-morning to Joy!" + +"You seem to have made one fast friend, Joy," pursued Allan, +dismissing the subject of the cherry for later consideration. +"Rutherford confided to me last night that he thought he had been +working too hard; he isn't returning to his native heath for a month +more. His aunt's been pressing him to stay on, and he thinks he +will. He's coming over to see me this morning. He's devoted to me," +stated Allan sweetly. "There's nothing he needs more than my +friendship. He explained it to me." + +Phyllis and he both laughed. + +"You always did have winning ways, Allan," said his wife +mischievously. "When is John expected to drop in? He, too, loves +you--don't forget that!" + +Allan grinned. + +"Poor old Johnny has to look after his patients. He can't very well +snatch a vacation in his own home town. It's a hard world for +gentlemen, Joy!" + +Phyllis looked from one to the other of them with an answering light +of mischief in her eyes. + +"I suppose John could take anybody he liked to hold the car, +couldn't he?" she said demurely. "In fact--he has!" + +"If you mean me," answered Joy, "he was very severe with me +yesterday. John is bringing me up in the way I should go!" The +feeling of vivid excitement was still carrying her along, and she +laughed as she answered them. + +Allan looked at her critically. + +"H'm!" he said thoughtfully. "I seem to have a feeling that he won't +bring you such an amazing distance, at that--short time as I have +known you. Did you say popovers this morning, Phyllis?" + +"Popovers," nodded Phyllis, "and some of Lily-Anna's fresh marmalade." + +"An' little dogs!" broke in Philip enthusiastically. "Oh, Father, +don't you just _love_ little dogs?" + +His mother tried to look troubled. + +"Allan, don't you think you could teach Phil, by precept or example, +that they really are sausages?" she asked. "The other day at Mrs. +Varney's we had them for luncheon, and he said, 'I'd like another +pup, please!' And she was shocked to the heart's core." + +"It's such a nice convenient name," pleaded Allan. "Joy, I have to +waste most of the morning talking over the long-distance 'phone to +my lawyer. I shall spend an hour discussing leases, and two more +bullying him and his wife into coming out to visit us. You will +readily see that I can't entertain my new-found soulmate at the same +time. I don't suppose you could offer any suggestions about his +amusement?" + +"Solitaire," suggested Joy demurely. "Or you might give him a book +to read." + +Allan threw back his head and laughed. + +"Excellent ideas, both!" he said, "and truly original. He shall have +his choice!" + +"You have the kindest hearts in the world," said Phyllis, summoning +the waitress. "Allan, before you finish that million-dollar +conversation to Mr. De Guenther, please call me. I want to speak to +him a minute, too." + +"I'll call you," he promised. + +They drifted off, Phyllis to attend to her housekeeping, Allan to +his long-distance leases, and Philip to find Angela, whom he never +forgot for long. She had breakfast with her nurse, and Philip felt +it was time he looked her up. He adored his little sister, and spent +the larger part of his days in teaching her everything he had been +taught, which was sometimes hard on Angela, who obeyed him +implicitly. + +As for Joy, she strayed out into the garden again. The feeling of +intense, happy aliveness in a wonderful world was still on her, and +she wanted to be alone to think things out--to think out especially +the thing she had discovered last night--and what to do about it. + +It was as warm as June by this time, for the sun was getting higher, +and she went slowly down the paths with the sun shining on her hair +and making it look like fire, breaking, as she went, a few more +flowers to pin in her dress. She had put on one of her old +picture-frocks, a straight dull-cream wool thing that she wore in +the mornings at home, girdled in with a silver cord about the hips. +She fitted the garden exceedingly well, though nothing was further +from her thoughts. + +At the far end, among a tangle of roses and beneath a group of +shade-trees, the Harringtons had set a little fountain, a flat, +low-set marble basin with a single jet of water springing high, and +falling almost straight down again. Its purpose was to cool the air +on very hot days, but it always flowed till frost, because it was so +pretty Phyllis never could bear to have it shut off. Joy loved the +half-hidden, lovely place, though she had only had one glimpse of it +before, and she sat down by it and began to try to think things out. +She had a much harder thinking to do than she'd had for a long time. + +"A 'hard world for gentlemen'!" meditated Joy, and laughed as she +trailed one hand in the water. "It's a much harder one for ladies, +if Allan but knew it!" + +She bent over, half-absently, to watch the water in the basin. It +fascinated her, the flow of it, and it helped her to reason things +out. There were several things that needed reasoning. + +To begin with--there was no use saying it wasn't so, for it was--she +was in love with John.... Her heart beat hard as she looked down +into the water and said the words in her mind. It would have been +lovely to do nothing but sit there and think of him. There were so +many different wonderful things he had for her to think about; his +steady eyes that changed from warm-gray to steel-gray, and back, and +could look as if they loved you or hated you or admired you or +fathered you, while the rest of his face told nothing at all; the +little gold glint in his fair hair and the way it curled when it was +damp weather; his square, back-flung shoulders; the strong way he +had of moving you about, as if you were a doll--the way his voice +sounded when she said certain words-- + +Joy pulled her thoughts from all that by force. + +"Clarence Rutherford calls me a sorcerette," she thought, "and I +suppose I must be. This must be being one. But, oh, I _have_ to +think how I can get John to love me back!" + +It looked a little hopeless, to think of, at first. He was so old +and wise and strong, compared to her, just a nineteen-year-old girl +who had never had even one lover to practise on! Something Gail had +said the night before came back to her--one of the girl's +half-scornful, half-amused phrases. + +"Barring a male flirt or so like Clarence over there," she had +vouchsafed, "men _are_ such simple-minded children of nature! +All you have to do is to treat them like hounds and tell them what +to do, and they'll do it." + +Joy could scarcely imagine treating John like a hound. She was too +afraid of him, except once in a while when she had a burst of +daring. But, at any rate, if she went on the principle that John was +simple-minded and could always be depended on to think she felt the +way she acted, things would be lots easier. + +"If only I can keep the courage!" she prayed. + +But as to details. She would have to let John see enough of her to +want her about. But--not so much that he got tired of it. + +"I wonder how much of me would tire him?" she said. Anyway--Joy +dimpled as she thought of it--he seemed to want to be the only one. +He didn't seem to want Clarence around. They all kept telling her +Clarence was a flirt--as if she wanted him to be anything else! It's +a comfort sometimes to know that a man can be depended on not to +have intentions.... Very well, she would try to make John jealous of +Clarence. Not enough to hurt him--it would be dreadful to hurt +him!--but enough to make herself valuable. + +"It's going to be very hard," she decided, "because all I want is to +do just as he says and make everything as happy for him as I can. +Oh, dear, why are men like that!" + +But she was fairly certain that they were. They were like that in +the books, and Gail had said so. Gail apparently knew. + +"It'll be hard," she thought sadly. Then her face brightened. "But +it'll be fun! and if it works I'll be able to be as nice to John as +I want to all the rest of my life, and please him to my heart's +content. Why, it'll be my duty!" + +She smiled and fell into another dream about John, leaning over the +fountain, with her copper braids falling across her bosom. + +She had forgotten all the outside things, until presently she felt +some one standing near her. + + "_Lean down to the water, Melisande, Melisande!_" + +the some one sang, in a soft, half-mocking voice. + +She turned and looked up. + +"How do you do, Mr. Rutherford?" she said sedately. + +She had been addressed as "Melisande" too many times, at home with +the poets, to be particularly excited, but even a man of Clarence's +well-known capabilities couldn't be expected to know this. He +disposed himself gracefully along the edge of the fountain. He had a +feline and leisurely grace, in spite of the fact that he wasn't +specially thin, had Clarence, as he very well knew. + +"I hope I won't fall into the water," he observed disarmingly. "I +may if you speak to me too severely. See here, Melisande, why did +you go and be all engaged to the worthy Dr. Hewitt? You had four or +five good years of fun ahead of you if you hadn't." + +"I mustn't listen to you, if you talk that way," Joy told him quietly. + +"Oh, you'd better," said Clarence with placidity. "I'm very interesting." + +"You're very vain," Joy told him, laughing at him in spite of herself. + +"I am, indeed--it's one of my charms," explained he. "Now that's out +of the way, we'll go on talking." + +"Well, go on talking!" Joy answered him childishly, putting her +hands over her ears. "I can go on not listening!" + +Clarence accordingly did, while Joy kept her hands over her ears +till her arms were tired and Clarence apparently had no more to say. +Then she dropped them. + +"I was reciting the Westminster catechism," Clarence observed blandly. +"I never waste my gems of conversation on deaf ears. Come, Joy of my +life, unbend a little. I don't mean a bit of harm in the world. All I +want is a kind word or two and the pleasure of your society." + +Joy looked at him thoughtfully for a moment, and then laughed. + +"If you were a poet, here is where you would tell me that the +fetters of wearying and sordid marriage were not for you--that they +wore on your genius," she said unexpectedly. + +Clarence gasped. It must have been very much like having the kitten +suddenly turn and offer him rational conversation. + +"_Et tu_, Laetitia!" he said in a neat and scholarly manner. +"Joy, you have cruelly deceived me--I thought you were a simple +child of nature." + +"I don't know a bit what I am," she answered truthfully, "but the +poets at Grandfather's did talk that way--not to me, but to other +people--and you sounded like them. You aren't really a poet, are you?" + +"Well, I've never been overt about it," he evaded. He did not know +what to make of Joy, any more than ever. + +Joy, trailing the end of a braid absently in the water, thought a +minute longer, then looked up at him. + +"It seems to me," she said suddenly, "that you just mock and mock at +things all the time. I'm not clever, and I can't answer you +cleverly. You might as well make up your mind to it, and then the +way I look won't be a disappointment to you. I know I look like a +medieval princess. It's because I was brought up to. But I'm not the +least bit medieval inside; honestly I'm not. I love to cook and I +love children, and I'm always hungry for my meals. I don't want to +seem discouraging, but I shall really be a dreadful disappointment +to you if you--" + +"As long as you have copper-gold hair and sky-blue eyes, _nothing_ +you can do will disappoint me," said Clarence caressingly. "Be a +suffragette, if you will--be a war-widow! It's all the same. I can +be just as happy with you--and I intend to be!" + +The mockery dropped from his voice for a moment as he said the last +words. Joy looked at him, a little frightened for the moment. She +smiled, then.... She was only nineteen, but she was thoroughly +human, and the spirit of Aunt Lucilla lighted her eyes. She dropped +her black lashes against her pink cheeks and spoke irresponsibly. + +"But suppose--suppose I should fall in love with you?" she asked in +a most little-girl voice. "Don't you see how dreadfully unhappy +_I_ would be?" + +"Oh, you won't," Clarence assured her in a tone whose casualness did +not quite hide his welcome of the prospect. "We'll just be +interested in each other enough to make it interesting. Why, Joy of +My Life, I wouldn't take anything from good old Hewitt for anything +in the world." + +There was a certain amount of conceit in Clarence's voice and +manner, patent even to so inexperienced a person as Joy. He seemed +to think that all he had to do was take! Joy looked at him curiously +for a moment, and then she sighed. Sometimes she almost wished +somebody _would_ take her mind off caring so much for John. + +"But this isn't real," she suddenly thought, "the sunshine and the +gaiety and these kind, handsome Harrington people being good to me, +and this Clarence person posing about and trying to toy with my +young affections--why, it's like a fairy tale or a play! ... I just +rubbed the wishing ring, and it happened!" + +She forgot Clarence again and began to sing softly under her breath, +watching the ruffled water. + +"What are you thinking, Melisande?" asked Clarence softly. + +Joy lifted her wide innocent eyes and gave him a discreet version. + +"That, after all, this is a glade in Fairyland, and I am the +princess, and you--the dragon," she ended under her breath. + +But Clarence, naturally enough, wasn't given to casting himself as a +dragon. He was perfectly certain he was a prince, and said so with +charming frankness. + +Joy continued to sing to herself. + +"I don't see why I shouldn't kiss your hand, if I'm a prince," he +observed next. "In fact, as nice a little hand as you have really +calls for such." + +He reached for it--the nearest, with the wishing ring on it. + +She snatched it indignantly away and clasped her hand indignantly +over the ring. That would be profanation! + +"I wish somebody would come!" she thought. "I'll have to leave not +only Clarence, but my nice fountain, in a minute." The next thing +she thought was, "What a well-trained wishing ring!" for Viola +appeared between the tall rose trees at the entrance to the little +pleasance. + +"Miss Joy, have you seen Philip anywhere?" she asked. "It's his +dinner-time, and I've hunted the house upsidedown for him." + +"Nowhere at all," said Joy truthfully, "Oh, is it as late as all +that? I'd better go, Mr. Rutherford." + +She followed Viola swiftly out, waving her hand provokingly to +Clarence. + +"There's a way out on the other side of the garden," she called back +casually. + +"I've found a note from Philip, Viola," Phyllis called as they +neared the house. "He's lunching out, it seems." + +She handed Viola the note. + +"I hav gon out too Lunchun," it stated briefly. "Yours Sincerely, +Philip Harrington." + +"He'll come back," his mother went on, with a perceptible relief in +her voice. "He has a corps of old and middle-aged ladies about the +village who adore him. He's probably at Miss Addison's--she's his +Sunday-school teacher. He really should have come and asked, I +suppose. Well, come in, Joy, and let us eat. Allan won't be +back--he's gone off to some village-improvement thing that seems to +think it would die without him." + +They ate in solitary state, except for Angela, and after that +nothing happened, except that they separated with one accord to take +long, generous naps. + +Joy was awakened from hers by Phyllis' voice, raised in surprise. + +"But, Miss _Addison!_" she was saying, on the porch below Joy's +window, in a tone that was part amusement, part horror. + +Joy slipped on her frock and shoes and ran down to share the +excitement. When she got down, Phyllis was just leading the visitor +into the old Colonial living-room, and they were having tea brought +in. Philip was nowhere to be seen. + +"A _wheel_barrow!" Phyllis was saying tragically, as she took +her cup from the waitress, who was listening interestedly, if +furtively. + +"A wheelbarrow," assented Miss Addison, a pretty, white-haired +spinster. She, too, took a cup. + +Phyllis cast up her eyes in horror and, incidentally, saw Joy. + +"Come in," she said resignedly. "I'm just hearing how Philip +disported himself at his 'lunchun.'" + +"I didn't mean to distress you, but I really thought you should +know, Mrs. Harrington," pursued the visitor plaintively. + +"I'm eternally grateful," murmured Phyllis, beginning, as usual, to +be overcome with the funny side of the situation. "But--oh, Joy, +what _do_ you think of my sinful offspring? Miss Addison says +Philip spent the luncheon hour relating to her how his father went +to the saloon in the village, had two glasses of beer, was entirely +overcome, and had to be brought home in--in--" by this time Phyllis +was laughing uncontrollably--"in a _wheel_barrow!" + +Joy, too, was aghast for a moment, then the situation became too +much for her, and she also began to laugh. + +"Good gracious!" she said. + +"And that isn't all!" Phyllis went on hysterically. "After Allan's +friends, or the policeman, or whoever it was, tipped him off the +wheelbarrow onto the front porch (imagine Allan in a wheelbarrow! It +would take two for the length of him!), he staggered in, and would +have beaten me, but that my noble son flung himself between! Then he +was overcome with remorse--wasn't he, Miss Addison?--and signed the +pledge." + +"Good gracious!" said Joy, inadequately, again. + +"Now, where on earth," demanded Miss Addison, "did he get all that?" + +"Only the special angel that watches over bad little boys knows," +said his mother with conviction. "And it won't tell. I know by +experience that I'll never get it out of Philip. He'll say, sweetly, +'Oh, I just _fought_ it, Muvver!' in as infantile a voice as +possible." + +They all three sat and pondered. + +"It sounds just like a tract," said Joy at last. + +"Exactly like a tract," assented Phyllis. "Do you suppose--in +Sunday-school----" + +"I'm his Sunday-school teacher," Miss Addison reminded her +indignantly. "That settles _that!_" + +"Well, have some more tea, anyway, now the worst is over," said her +hostess hospitably.... "A _wheel_barrow!" + +They continued to sit over their teacups and meditate. Suddenly +Phyllis rose swiftly and made a spring for the bookcase, scattering +sponge-cake as she went. + +"I have it, I believe!" she exclaimed. "Well, who'd think--Viola +read this to Philip when he was getting over the scarlatina last +winter. There wasn't another child's book in the house that he +didn't know by heart, and we couldn't borrow on account of the +infection. I took it away from them, but the mischief was done. But +he's never spoken of it or seemed to remember it from that day to +this, and I'd forgotten it, too." + +She held up a small, dingy book and opened it to the title-page. + +"The Drunkard's Child; or, Little Robert and His Father," it said in +lettering of the eighteen-forties. + +It was unmistakably the groundwork of Philip's romance. It had a +woodcut frontispiece of Little Robert in a roundabout and baggy +trousers, inadequately embracing his cowering mother's hoopskirt, +while his father, the Drunkard in question, staggered remorsefully +back. It was all there, even to the wheelbarrow--also inadequate. + +"It didn't hurt Philip's great-grandfather," said his mother. "I +don't see why it should have affected Philip as it did. Different +times, different manners, I suppose.... The Drunkard's Child!" + +"Where _is_ he?" Joy thought to ask. + +"Innocently playing with his little sister in the nursery," said +Phyllis. "Doubtless teaching her that she is a Drunkard's Daughter. +I have him still to deal with.... A wheelbarrow! I wonder what Allan +_will_ say?" + + + + + + +CHAPTER NINE + +THE TANGLED WEB WE WEAVE + +"It wasn't so much my behavior after I was wheeled home," said +Philip's father mournfully, "as it was my getting so outrageously +drunk on two glasses of beer. That was the final straw. Why couldn't +he have made it several quarts of brandy, or even knockout drops?" + +"I hope you don't want an innocent child of that age to know about +knockout drops!" said Clarence Rutherford, the ubiquitous. + +"Well, there's something wrong with his environment," said Allan. + +"We are his environment," Phyllis reminded him. "As far as I know we +are rather nice people." + +The Harringtons, John Hewitt, with Gail and her cousin, not to speak +of Joy, were enjoying an unseasonably hot day in the Harrington +garden. They had all been playing tennis, and now everybody was +sitting or lying about, getting rested. The trees kept the morning +sun from being too much of a nuisance, and there was a tray with +lemonade, and sweet biscuits which were unquestionably going to ruin +everybody's luncheon appetite. + +"What that child needs," answered his father, taking another glass +of lemonade and the remaining biscuits, "is young life-companions +his own age." + +They had all been racking their brains to think of a punishment that +would fit Philip's crime, or at least some warning that would bring +it home to him. He had been led by Viola, subdued and courteous, to +tell Miss Addison that he had deceived her. He did, very carefully. + +"But it _might_ of been my father," he explained as he ended. +"Oughtn't we to be glad that it wasn't my father, Miss Addison?" + +Miss Addison, quite nonplused by this unexpected moral turn to the +conversation, had acknowledged defeat, and fed Philip largely. He +had a very good time, apparently, for he grieved to Viola all the +way home over Angela's missing such a pleasant afternoon. When he +returned he flung himself on Allan. + +"Oh, Father, _please_ let Angela go, too, next time I go +'pologizing!" he implored. "There were such nice little cakes--just +the kind Mother lets her eat!" + +Allan shook his head despairingly. + +"Please remove him, Viola," he said. "I want to think." + +Not only he, but Phyllis and John, had spent a day thinking. No one +had, as yet, reached any conclusion at all. + +"It's all very well for you to be carefree," he said now to John, +who was laughing like the others. "It isn't up to you to see that +the young idea shoots straight." + +John's face remained quite cheerful. + +"Well, you see, I have Joy's manners and morals to look after," he +said, glancing across at her in a friendly way. "That's enough for +one man." + +Joy curled on the warm grass, laughed lazily. She was too pleasantly +tired from tennis to answer. She only curled her feet under her and +burrowed into the grass a little more, like a happy kitten. + +It didn't seem as if anything ever need interrupt her happiness. And +as Phyllis had had the happy thought of ordering luncheon brought +out to where they were, there seemed no reason why they should ever +move. There was a feeling of unchangingness about the wonderfully +holding summer weather, and the general lazy routine, that was as +delightful as it was illusive. For the very next day things began to +happen. + +They were just finishing breakfast when a telegram came. + +"I suppose it's from the De Guenthers, telling us which train to +meet," Phyllis said carelessly, as she opened it.... "Oh!" + +"What is it, dear?" asked Allan at her exclamation of distress. + +She handed him the telegram. + +"Isabel suddenly ill with inflammatory rheumatism. Fear it may +affect heart. Can you come on?" + +"They're the nearest thing either of us has to relatives," Phyllis +explained to Joy. "Inflammatory rheumatism! Oh, Allan, we ought to go." + +She looked at him across the table, her blue eyes distressed and wide. + +"Of course you shall go, my dearest," Allan told her gently, while +Joy wondered what it would be like to have some one speak to her in +that tone. The Harringtons were so careless and joyous in their +relations with each other, so like a light-hearted, casually +intimate brother and sister, that it was only when they were moved, +as now, that their real feelings were apparent. + +Joy looked off and out the window, and lost herself in a day-dream, +her hand, as usual, mechanically feeling for the rough carving of +John's ring. + +"To be in John's house, close to him, like this, and to have him +speak to me so--wouldn't it be wonderful?" she thought, with a warm +lift of her heart at even the vision of it. She forgot the people +about her for a little, and pictured it to herself. + +She had only seen two rooms of the Hewitt house, and that when they +were dressed out of all homelikeness, because of the reception. But +she could think how they would look, with just John Hewitt and +herself going up and down them. They would be happy, too, in this +light-hearted fashion--so happy that they laughed at little things. +They would not talk much about loving each other. But they would +belong to each other, and they would know it. Each of them would +always be there for the other, and know it. They would sit by the +wood fire in the dusk.... + +"Now to set my house in order," said Phyllis, rising from the table. +"You said the two train, Allan? All right--I can easily be ready for +that, or before, if you like." + +She rang for Lily-Anna, who appeared, smiling and comfortable as ever. + +"Mr. Harrington and I are going off for some days--perhaps longer, +Lily-Anna," Phyllis explained. "I shall have to leave the children +with you and Viola. Mrs. De Guenther is very ill." + +Lily-Anna seemed used to this sort of thing happening, and said she +could manage perfectly well. Indeed, Viola was beamingly amiable +over the prospect, when summoned and told. She volunteered to do any +mending and packing necessary on the spot. + +"How beautifully they take it!" marveled Joy when the servants had +gone again, full of shining assurances that all would be well. + +"You may well say so!" said Phyllis, lifting her eyebrows. "Their +rapture at getting the children to themselves is almost indecent. +It's all very well to have such attractive infants, but I sometimes +look sadly back to the days when Lily-Anna loved me for myself +alone. And now about you." + +"Me?" said Joy in surprise. She had not supposed there was any +question about her. + +"You," answered Phyllis decisively. "Here is where I am given a +chance of escape from making a lifelong enemy of your future +mother-in-law." She crossed to the telephone as she spoke, and got +Mrs. Hewitt's number. "This is Phyllis Harrington," Joy heard her +say. "I called up to say that I am yielding in our struggle for +Joy's person. Allan and I have to go away this afternoon. We should +love to have her stay here and chaperone Philip and Angela, but it +seems a waste. Would you like to have her?" + +Sounds of fervent acceptance were evidently pouring over the wire, +for Phyllis smiled as she listened. + +"She not only wants you," she transmitted to Joy, "but she says that +she'll take no chances on our changing our minds, and is coming for +you in an hour, whether we go or not. She says to tell you that she's +taking you shopping first.... You know, we're to have her back when +we return," she continued firmly to the telephone. "We saw her first." + +She hung up the receiver and swept Joy off upstairs with her while +she packed. + +"You know, we may never get you again," she warned. "I'm taking a +fearful chance in letting you escape this way. You have to come +back, remember, my child." + +"Indeed I will come back," Joy promised fervently. + +It seemed so strange that all these people should so completely have +made her one of themselves, even to the point of wanting to keep her +in their homes. + +"You are all so good to me!" she said. + +"You are exceedingly lovable," explained Phyllis matter-of-factly. +"In fact, Clarence remarked the last time I saw him that you had the +most unusual kind of charm he had ever seen. He said you were like a +sorceress brought up in a nunnery. While I think of it, Joy dear, +Clarence and Gail are two of the most confirmed head-hunters I know. +They ought to marry each other and keep it in the family, but they +won't. I'm not worried about anything Gail can do, but do please +keep your fingers crossed when Clarence drops carelessly in. And +when he starts discussing your souls turn the conversation to the +village water-supply or something as interesting." + +Joy smiled a little wistfully. + +"John doesn't seem to mind," she said. Then she laughed outright. +"Phyllis, I've seen every one of Clarence's tricks all my life. He's +the only type I'm accustomed to: it's the John and Allan type I +don't know." + +"You certainly are a surprise to me," said Phyllis, busily folding a +flesh-colored Georgette waist, and laying it in a tray with +tissue-paper in its sleeves. "I don't seem to be able to teach you +much, which is a good thing. Now you'd better let me help you pack +up enough for a week, for Mrs. Hewitt is due fairly soon." + +Joy declined to take any of Phyllis' much-needed time, and went off +to fill her suitcase. It was not until she had put in almost +everything she intended to take that she thought of the wishing ring +again. She looked down at the heavy Oriental carving with what was +almost terror. She had wished for something on it, and once more her +wish had come true. She was going over to be in the house with John, +to see him whenever he was there, to have him--yes, he would have to +pretend, at least, that they were lovers, because of his mother. She +had as nearly what she had wished for as it was possible for a ring +to manage. + +"I almost feel as if I had made that poor old lady have the +rheumatism," she thought with a thrill of fear. Then she pulled +herself up--that was nonsense. + +"But anyway," Joy told the ring severely, "I won't touch you when I +make wishes after this. I might wish for something in a hurry, and +be terribly sorry afterwards." + +But one thing she did wish then, deliberately. She sat back on her +heels and clasped her fingers over the heavy carving of it. "Please, +dear wishing ring, let John be in love with me!" she begged. The +next moment she was scarlet at her own foolishness. The ring +couldn't do that, if it had belonged to Aladdin himself. + +So she went on packing. She was a little afraid and excited, going +off to live in the very house with John, but she couldn't help being +a little glad. She would see him for hours and hours every day. + +"And oh, dear ring," she whispered, forgetting that she had promised +not to wish any more, "don't let him get tired of having me around!" + +She was not quite done when she heard the impatient wail of Mrs. +Hewitt's horn. She stuffed the last things into the heavy suitcase +and ran down, dragging it after her. + +Phyllis went out to the car with her, kissing her good-by. + +"Now mind, this is only a loan," she told Mrs. Hewitt. + +"Nothing of the sort," retorted Mrs. Hewitt with an air of +certainty. "Good-by, my dear. Give my love to Mrs. De Guenther. +Perhaps when you get back I may give an afternoon tea and allow you +to see Joy for a few minutes." + +Phyllis laughed, and patted Mrs. Hewitt's gloved hand where it lay +on the steering-wheel. + +"Use our place all you like, as usual," she said in sole reply, "and +don't forget to miss me." + +"That's one of the loveliest girls that ever lived," said Mrs. Hewitt +as they sped away. "Anybody but Phyllis I _would_ begrudge you to. +Oh, my dear, we're going to have the best time!" + +Joy squeezed the hand that should have been, but wasn't, helping the +other hand steer. Mrs. Hewitt was so adorably a young girl inside +her white-haired stateliness! + +"We're going to the next village to buy materials," she told Joy +blithely, "and then we're going home to make them up, or I am. It +won't hurt to get a bit of the trousseau under way, and you know I +haven't sewed a thing for my daughter for thirty-four years--not +since the wretched child turned out to be John, and I had to take +all the pink ribbons out and put in blue!" + +Mrs. Hewitt's inconsequent good spirits, somehow, took away some of +the dread with which Joy had been looking forward to her sojourn in +John's house. She allowed herself to be motored over to the next +town, where there was fairly good shopping, and went obediently into +the stores. It was not until she saw the lady ordering down for +inspection bolts of crepe de Chine and wash satin and glove silk in +whites and pinks and flesh-colors, that the full inwardness of the +thing dawned on her. For evidently Mrs. Hewitt had every intention +of paying for all this opulence, and Joy didn't quite see what to do +about it. Nor did the pocket-money her grandfather had given her +when she left him warrant her paying for the things herself, even if +she used it all. + +"Please don't get these things," she whispered when she found a +chance. "I--I think I oughtn't to." + +"Oughtn't to, indeed," replied Mrs. Hewitt coolly. "'Nobody asked +you, sir, she said!' I'm getting them myself. I may be intending to +make up a set of wash-satin blankets for the Harrington bulldog for +all you know. I don't think he'd be surprised--they treat him like a +long-lost relative now. Now be sensible, darling. Do you think +valenciennes or filet would be better to trim the blankets? Or do +you like these lace and organdy motifs? They'd look charming on a +black bulldog." + +Joy laughed in spite of herself. + +"There's no doing anything with you," she said. + +"Not a thing!" said the triumphant spoiled child whom the world took +for an elderly lady. "Now we'll get down to business. Would you +rather have crepe or satin for camisoles? Half of each would be a +good plan, I think, if you have no choice." + +There _wasn't_ any doing anything with Mrs. Hewitt. She was +having a gorgeous time, and she carried Joy along with her till the +girl was choosing pink and white silks and satins, and patterns to +make them by, with as much enthusiasm as if no day of reckoning +loomed up, three and a half weeks away. + +There was no way out. Of course, she would leave the things behind. +The thought gave her a pang already, for Joy had been dressed by her +grandfather's ideas only as far as frocks went. Her grandmother had +seen to everything else, and was devoted to a durable material known +as longcloth, which one buys by the bolt and uses forever. + +But they sped merrily home, after a festive luncheon, with about +forty dollars' worth of silk and lace and ribbon aboard, not to +speak of patterns, and a blue muslin frock which was a bargain and +would just fit Joy, and which she had invested in herself. + + _"Oh what a tangled web we weave + When first we practise to deceive!"_ + +Joy thought of that quotation so often now that she was beginning to +feel it was her favorite verse. But she touched the big parcel with +a small, appreciative foot, and remembered that the blue frock, at +least, would be saved out of the wreck, and that John liked blue. + +Mrs. Hewitt showed her her bedroom when they got back, and left her +to take a nap. But she did not want to rest. She lay obediently +against the pillows and stared out the window at a great, vivid +maple tree, and felt very much like staying awake for the rest of +her natural life. + +"How on earth was I to know that mothers-in-law were like this?" she +demanded of herself indignantly. "All the ones I ever heard about +made your life a misery." + +It is rather calming to remember that you really couldn't have +foreseen what is happening to you. So Joy presently rose happily, +smoothed her hair and tidied herself generally, and came sedately +down the stairs, prepared to go on playing her part. Only it was +getting to feel more like a reality than a pretense. The other life, +the one she would go back to, seemed the dream now. + +"John will be here soon," Mrs. Hewitt greeted her. "It will be a +surprise to him: you know, he hasn't an idea you are here. I wouldn't +tell him what Phyllis said." + +Joy dimpled. + +"Do you suppose he'll mind?" she ventured. + +"Oh, I think he'll bear up," said Mrs. Hewitt amiably. "Come here, +Joy; I've cut out a half-dozen of the silk ones already. Do you know +how to do them? They're just a straight piece--see----" + +Joy knelt down by her, absorbed in the pretty thing and in seeing +how to make it. The day was chillier than any had yet been, and a +fire had been built in the deep fireplace of the living-room. Mrs. +Hewitt was sitting near it, with the pretty scraps of silk and lace +all over her lap, and an ever-widening circle of cut-out garments +around her. + +"We can do the most of these by hand," she mused. "Indeed, we +shouldn't do them any other way." + +Joy rooted sewing things out of a basket near by and sat down just +where she was, between Mrs. Hewitt and the large, fatherly Maltese +cat who occupied a wonted cushion on the other side of the +fireplace. And so John found her when he came in. The lamp had just +been lighted, and its soft rays shone on Joy's bronze head and +down-bent, intent little face. She had on a little white apron that +Mrs. Hewitt had fastened around her waist, and she was sewing hard. + +Before Joy heard John come in she felt him. No matter how tired he +was, there was always about John an atmosphere of well-being and +sunniness, of "all's right with the world," that made faces turn to +him instinctively when he stood in a doorway. But Joy did not raise +her eyes to look at him, nor did she move. + +His mother rose and came over to greet him. Joy did not hear her +whisper: "The child feels a little shy. She'll be more at ease now +you've come." + +John came swiftly over to where she sat on the floor, very still, +with her hands flying, and her eyes on her work. + +"Why, Joy dear, this is a lovely thing that I didn't expect," he +said gently. "Welcome--home!" + +He smiled down at her and held out his hands to help her up. Quite +unsuspectingly, she pushed her work into the pocket along the hem of +her sewing-apron and laid her hands in his, and he drew her easily +to her feet. But, instead of releasing her then, he drew her +closer--and kissed her, quite as calmly as he had his mother a +moment before.... No, not quite as calmly. Joy felt his arms close +around her, as if he was glad to have her in his hold. + +"Let me go," she said in too low a voice for Mrs. Hewitt to hear. + +"Who has drawn the wine must drink it," he told her in the same low +voice. He went on, still softly, but more seriously, "My child, this +sort of thing is necessary, if you want Mother to be satisfied while +you are here. It's--a courtesy to your hostess. I promise to do no +more of it than is necessary, as it seems to trouble you so. +But--don't you see?" + +He released her, and she stepped away. + +"I--see," she answered him a little uncertainly. "Th--thank you.... +I--I couldn't help coming, John." + +Then she fled upstairs to dress for dinner. + +She puzzled all the time she was dressing. There was no use +talking--his mother _needn't_ be amused by such things. She +would get on perfectly well without seeing them. John might think he +was doing it as a sacred duty--in spite of her adoration of him it +did not impress Joy that way.... There were men who kissed you just +because you were a girl, if you let them; Clarence was that kind, +according to all accounts. But--John! He was the best, kindest, +noblest man she had ever known. Every one seemed to have the same +feelings about him that she had. Even when Clarence had sneered at +him he had only been able to call him a "reliable citizen."... And +yet--he seemed to want to kiss her! He liked it. + +"Of course," said Joy to herself, with a beating heart beneath the +wisdom of Aunt Lucilla, "the answer is that he probably doesn't know +it. Men don't ever seem to know things about themselves. But I must +remember that it's no sign he likes _me._" + +But it was quite true that it was going to have to continue. It had +dawned on Joy that her will was no match for that of the Hewitt +family. But it was a very kindly will. She smiled a little, +irrepressibly, as she clasped her girdle--she was wearing one of the +old picture dresses--and went downstairs. For even if you are a +little impostor who has captured a five-weeks' lover by means of a +wishing ring, unlimited things to wear are nice, and having the man +you are in love with want to pet you is nice, too! + +At the top of the stairs a thought struck her. Joy's thoughts had a +way of arriving suddenly. She had set out to be happy. Very well! + +"I don't see why I shouldn't be engaged to the limit!" she thought +daringly. "I--don't--see--why I shouldn't! ... for just this little +while--just this one little while out of my life before I go back to +the shadows! ... I don't care if I am bad! I don't care if I am +unmaidenly! I'll be as happy as ever I can. They'll think I'm very +dreadful, anyway, all of them, when they know all about me!" + +She swept on down the stairs, head up, cheeks flaming. + +And so, when she came upon John, waiting her courteously at the +stair-foot, she did just exactly what in her heart she desired to +do. She stood on the step above him and deliberately laid both +little white hands on his shoulders and smiled into his eyes. + +"I am so glad I'm here with you," she said, looking at him with no +attempt to hide the love she felt for him. "Are you glad to have +your sweetheart in the house--for a little while? Say so--please, +dear!" + +He laughed light-heartedly, and his eyes shone. + +"A little while?" he answered gaily. "I can stand a lot more of you +than that, kiddie.... Come, now, Mother's waiting. Or shall I lift +you down from the step? ... I always seem to want to lift you about, +somehow, you're so little and light--such a little princess:" + +He set his hands about her waist, but she slipped from him, laughing +excitedly. + +"I believe you think I'm just a doll somebody gave you to play +with!" she told him with a certain sweet mockery that was hers +sometimes.... "Come, now, Mother's waiting!" + +She ran down the hall, evading his grasp, and laughing back at him +over her shoulder, to Mrs. Hewitt and safety. + +"Come, children, dinner will be cold," said Mrs. Hewitt obliviously. + +"Coming, Mother dear!" answered Joy. + + + + + + +CHAPTER TEN + +CLARENCE SWOOPS DOWN + +It was quite as pleasant to breakfast with John as it had been to +dine with him, which had been something Joy had secretly wondered +about. When breakfast was over, he told her matter-of-coursely that +he was going to take her with him on his morning rounds. + +"You'd better take a book," he advised her practically. "If you +don't, you'll be bored, because I'll be leaving you outside a good +deal while I'm inside seeing patients." + +"I'll take my sewing," she told him, trying to be as matter-of-fact +as he was. "That is, if you don't mind." + +She was smiling as happily as a child over being allowed to go, and +he smiled down at her, pleased, too. + +"Not unless it's too big," he told her with an attempt at firmness +which failed utterly. + +She went off, singing under her breath, as usual, to get a very +small sewing-bag, with a little piece of to-be-hemstitched pink silk +in it, and John looked over at his mother. + +"She certainly has the prettiest ways!" he said involuntarily. + +"You're a good lover, Johnny," his mother rejoined appreciatively. + +"Nonsense!" said John before he thought, and then pulled himself up. +"That is--I don't think a man would have to be in love with her to see +that," he ended lamely. "I thought they were attractive before I----" + +"Exactly," retorted his mother with distinct skepticism. "That's why +you--" She paused in mimicry of his breaking off, and, then, as Joy +came back, gave him an affectionate little push toward the door. +She followed them out to the gate and leaned over it, watching them. +"Good-by, children!" she called after them. "Don't be late for luncheon!" + +"Don't stand out there in the wind with no wraps, Mother," advised John. + +"Nonsense!" she replied with spirit. "You have Isabel De Guenther's +rheumatism on your mind, that's what's the matter with you. The idea +of a woman of her intelligence giving up to inflammatory rheumatism +is simply ridiculous. You don't get things unless you give up to them." + +It was a beautiful doctrine, and doubtless had much to do with +making Mrs. Hewitt the healthy and dauntless person she was, but it +had its limitations, and John reminded her of them inexorably. + +"You have neuritis when you catch cold in the wind, and you know +it," he told her. "Do go in, Mother, to please me." + +"You know I'll be back again as soon as you're out of sight," she +observed. But she did go in. + +Alas for the power of elderly ladies to keep off neuritis by +defiance! When they came back at twelve-thirty Mrs. Hewitt was +nowhere to be seen. + +"Mrs. Hewitt says she has a slight headache, and will you please not +wait luncheon for her: she's having it upstairs," was the message +they received. + +"Very well," said John gravely, and he and Joy proceeded to have +luncheon alone together. + +He glanced smilingly across the table at Joy as she poured his tea +with steady little hands. + +"It looks very much as if you were going to have to take charge, +more or less," he said. "That's our friend the neuritis. Mother +never admits it's anything but a headache the first day. Do you +think you can look after things?" + +"Why not, if she wants me to?" asked Joy. + +"Well, I can imagine you standing on a drawbridge or a portcullis, +or whatever it was they trimmed medieval castles with, and waving +your hands to the knights going by," began John teasingly; "but it's +a stretch of imagination to fancy a medieval princess pouring my tea +and seeing that my papers are in order ..." + +"You _know_ I can't help having red hair," protested Joy, +coming straight to the point. "And if your grandfather had always +dressed you in costumes, you couldn't get to be modern all at once, +either. I think I'm doing very well." + +John threw back his fair head and laughed. + +The idea of his grandfather, who had been a wholesale hardware +merchant, with a New England temperament to match, "dressing him in +costumes," was an amusing one, and he said as much. + +Joy laughed, too. + +"Well, there, you see!" she said triumphantly. "There's a great deal +in not having handicaps. Why, there was a poet used to write things +as if he were me, all about that, and I couldn't stop him. One began: + + _'I was a princess in an ivory tower: + Why did you sit below and sing to me?'"_ + +"Well," said John, as she paused indignantly, "I'll be the goat. Why +_did_ he sit below and sing to you?" + +"Because he wanted the pull Grandfather could give him, as far as I +could make out," replied Joy with vigor. "And I don't call it a bit +nice way to act!" + +She did not quite know why John laughed this time. But she was very +glad that he was not bored at being with her. + +"Oh, Joy, Joy!" he said. "I take it back. You are not +medieval--entirely. Or, if you are, princesses in ivory towers are +more delightful figures than I've always thought them." + +"We aim to please," said Joy demurely. "But I have to explain that a +lot, it seems to me. I had it out with Clarence Rutherford only a +day or so ago." + +"Oh, you did?" considered John. "Well--don't try to please too hard. +Remember that you are supposed to please me; but you don't have to +extend your efforts beyond my family circle." + +He was only half in earnest, but he was in earnest at least half. +She wondered just what he meant for a moment, then it occurred to +her that he meant Clarence, no less. She was on the verge of saying +comfortingly: + +"Clarence is just trying to make me fall in love with him. He +doesn't count a bit." + +But she stopped herself, remembering that Aunt Lucilla would never +have said such an unwise thing, let alone Gail. + +"I must go now and see how your mother is, as soon as we are +through," she told him instead. + +She found Mrs. Hewitt surrounded by more hot-water bottles than she +had ever thought existed, and reduced to the point where she was +nearly willing to confess to neuritis. + +"I have pains all over me, child," she announced, "and as long as +you are here I shall continue to describe them, so you'd better run. +And if you tell John it's neuritis I shall probably take you over to +Phyllis' fountain and drown you the first day I'm up. It will be an +annoyingly chilly death if the weather keeps on as it is now----" + +She stopped in order to give a little wriggle and a little moan, and +saw John standing in the doorway. + +"How's the neuritis, Mother?" he inquired sympathetically. + +"You know perfectly well," said his mother without surprise, "that I +can't spare one of these hot-water bottles to throw at you, John, +and I think you're taking a despicable advantage." + +"I'll get you some more hot water," said he placidly, collecting two +red bags and a gray one, and crossing to her stationary washstand. + +"There's a lower stratum you might get, Joy," suggested Mrs. Hewitt, +and Joy reached down at the hint and secured the two remaining +bottles, which she filled when John was through. + +"That's _much_ better," Mrs. Hewitt thanked them, with what was +very like a purr. + +"Incidentally," said John with concern in his voice, "it's about all +anybody can do for you till the weather changes; that and being +careful of your diet." + +"Yes, and I got it this morning standing out in the damp and chill, +watching you out of sight. Watching people out of sight is unlucky, +anyway," said his mother. "I might as well say it, if you won't. And +I don't expect to be able to get up tomorrow, which is Thursday." + +"Thursday?" asked John, sitting down on the couch at the foot of the +bed. "Is Thursday some special feast?" + +"Thursday's the cook's day out, usually," explained Joy practically. +"But she doesn't need to worry. Dear, if you'll tell me what to do----" + +"Usually Nora attends to things that day," explained Mrs. Hewitt +sadly, but with a trace of hope in her voice, "but tomorrow she has +a funeral she must attend. Quite a close funeral, she explained to +me; the remains was a dear friend!" + +Joy smiled down on Mrs. Hewitt like a Rossetti angel. + +"You don't need to worry a bit," she consoled. "How many meals will +she be gone?" + +"Only one," Mrs. Hewitt told her, with what was obviously a +lightened heart. "Dinner." + +"Just dinner for us three? Why, I can manage that easily," said Joy +confidently. "At least--I hope I'll suit. I really can cook." + +"You blessed angel! Of course you'll suit!" said Mrs. Hewitt. "I'm +so glad. John _does_ like good meals." + +She moaned a little, rather as if it was a luxury, and turned +cautiously over. + +"You don't have to stay with me any longer, children," she said. +"The last responsibility is off my conscience. And I may state, in +passing, John, that I never imagined you had sense enough to pick +out anybody as satisfactory as Joy." + +They both laughed a little, and then John said, abruptly, that he +had to go soon, and swept Joy off with him. Outside the door he +stopped short. + +"See here, Joy, you mustn't do things like that," he said abruptly. +"You're a guest, not a maid." + +She set her back against the closed door they had just emerged from +and looked up at him. + +"Please let me go on playing," she begged him with a little break in +her voice. "You know I never had any mother to speak of, any more +than she had any daughter, and--and--please!" + +He put his hand under her chin and lifted her face to look at it keenly. + +"Do you really like her so, child?" he said. + +Joy hoped he would not feel her cheek burn under his touch. + +"Yes," she answered simply. "And--and now I must go and plan a +dazzling menu, please, and look in the icebox without hurting the +cook's feelings. It's a case of, 'Look down into the icebox, +Melisande!' as Clarence Rutherford would put it." + +But she did not say the last sentence aloud. She only laughed as the +phrase presented itself to her. + +"Now, what are you laughing at?" demanded John. + +"If I told you," said Joy like an impertinent child, "you'd know. +And now, dear sir, you have to go out on your rounds. Be sure to be +back in time for dinner--my dinner. I'm going to plan it tonight, +even if I don't cook it." + +He didn't seem angry at her--only amused. + +"You plan a dinner--fairy princess!" he teased her, looking down at her +picturesque little figure from his capable, broad-shouldered height. + +"See if I can't!" said Joy defiantly. + +And he saw. + +When he got back that evening, cold and tired and a little unhappy +over a child in his care who did not seem to be gaining, Joy met him +at the door, drawing him into the warmth and light with two little +warm hands. She had dressed herself in the little blue muslin frock +she had bought herself the morning before. It had a white fichu +crossing and tying behind, which gave her the look, somehow, of +belonging in the house. Her hair was parted demurely and pinned into +a great coil at the back of her head, held by a comb that he +recognized as his mother's. What he did not recognize or remember +was that he had told her once that his dream-girl "had her hair +parted--and wore blue--and was connected somehow with an open fire." +But he knew that she looked very sweet and lovely and very much as +if she belonged where she was. + +"Oh, come in, dear!" she cried. "You're tired. Come to the fire a +minute before you go upstairs." + +She spoke almost as if she were his wife, and he looked less tired +as he came to her. + +"I like being welcomed home this way," he told her, putting his arm +around her, instead of releasing her, and going with her into the +living-room. "Why, Joy, I take it all back about your not being able +to keep house. One look at you would make anybody sure of it.... Are +you doing it all for Mother, dear?" he broke off unexpectedly to ask +her. "Aren't you doing it a little bit for me?" + +She looked up at him, flushing. + +"Yes--a little bit--" she said breathlessly. Then she made herself +speak more lightly. "I did make the dressing and the pudding sauce +myself," she admitted as gaily as she could for a fast-beating +heart. "But I hoped there weren't traces. Is there flour on my +face?" + +She smiled flashingly at him and tipped her face up provokingly, +slipping from his hold where they stood by the fire together. He +made one step close to her again. + +"You know perfectly well what to expect for a question like that," +he said with an unaccustomed excitement in his voice, and kissed her. + +Usually when he did that Joy made some struggle to escape. But +tonight, in the firelight, a little tired and very glad to see him, +she kissed him back, as if she were veritably his. + +He dropped on one knee beside the blaze, drawing her down on the +hearth-rug by him. + +"I feel like the man in the fairy-stories," he said in a voice Joy +did not quite know, "who catches an elf-girl in some unfair way, and +finds her turn to a dear human woman in his house. Joy ... will she +stay human?" + +Joy's heart beat furiously as she knelt there, held close to his +side. The little head with its great coil of glittering hair drooped. + +"She--she always was human," she half whispered, her throat +tightening with excitement. She could feel the blood stealing up +over her face. + +"That is no answer, Joy, my dear," he said softly. + +But it was at this moment that a voice behind the curtains said, +"Dinner is served." + +Joy sprang up, but John stayed where he was, his broad shoulders and +fair head bent a little forward as he looked into the blaze. + +She touched his arm timidly. + +"John--please--you must go up and see your mother before dinner." + +He roused himself from whatever he had been thinking of and turned +to her. + +"I must, certainly," he replied, springing up. "I think I am +answered.... Am I not, dear?" + +"Why, yes," said Joy with a little surprise, but as gently and +confidently as ever. "I answered you. I always do what you tell me, +don't I?" + +He touched her hair lightly and smiled for an answer as he passed +her on his way up. She heard him whistling light-heartedly above, as +she, too, stood staring into the fire. + +She hadn't thought that any one could be so very kind and lovely as +John was being to her tonight. She could feel yet the pressure of +his arm as he held her beside him. And it was going to last a great +deal longer--weeks longer! She could be as happy and as much with +him and as much to him as she wanted to. There would be Clarence's +mocking love-making, too, for flattery and amusement. And when she +had to go back home, at last, she would have so much happiness, so +much good times, so much love to remember, that it would keep her +warm and happy for years and years! + +When John returned, his hair damp and nearly straight with brushing, +and his eyes still bright with laughter, she was sitting at the head +of the table, waiting for him happily. + +"It's a nice world, isn't it?" she suggested like a child. "And do +you like whipped cream in your tomato bisque?" + +"It is, and I do, very much. Am I to have it?" + +Joy nodded proudly, her eyes shining. + +"I don't know about the world, but you are going to have the whipped +cream," she said, as she felt for the electric push-button in the +floor with one small, circling foot. + +"I might as well tell you now," said John gaily, "that the bell you +are trying to step on is disconnected. Mother unhooked it eight +months ago, because when she was excited she always forgot and +stamped on it. I think we use a glass and a knife." + +"Oh!" said Joy. "Well, I haven't the technique--would you?" + +But Nora came in with the soup just then without having been rung +for, having evidently been hovering sympathetically near. + +"Pardon me, Doctor, but the bell is connected up," she breathed. "I +hooked it up myself as soon as Mrs. Hewitt gave Miss Havenith the +housekeeping." + +It had evidently been a sore point with Nora--and, if the truth were +told, with John, who had an orderly mind. Although he adored his +flyaway, irresponsible mother, it was in spite of her ways and not +because of them. + +"Do you think you are apt to get excited and step on the bell?" he +asked Joy. + +She shook her head. + +"I like things the way they're planned," she confessed. "They go +along more easily." + +"I suppose," he meditated aloud, "you might even put a man's collars +in the same place twice running." + +"Where else?" demanded Joy, who was so thoughtful of such things +that she was even intrusted with certain duties of the sort for +Grandfather. + +"Well, Mother hasn't repeated herself for twenty-eight years," said +John a little wistfully. "She says she doesn't intend to get in a +rut, nor let me." + +Joy laughed aloud. + +"It must take lots of spare time, hunting new spots!" she said. "I'm +afraid I'd think life was too short to take all that trouble." + +"I'm coming to the conclusion that there's nothing you can't do," he said +irrelevantly. "But I suppose you had a very able godmother--princesses +do, don't they?" + +"I have a wishing ring," Joy explained, entering into the play. +"It's very well trained. All I have to do is to tell it things, and +it sees to them immediately." + +John went on eating his soup. + +"You look as if you wanted to ask it to do something," she pursued. + +He looked thoughtful. + +"As a matter of fact, I do; but it seems an unfair advantage to take +not only of a docile wishing ring, but of you," he stated. + +"Try us and see," invited Joy, ringing, with a visible satisfaction +in things, for the next course. + +So John took courage. + +"It's socks," he confessed with a boyish shame-facedness. "I--I'd +like to see how you'd look doing them. I can't quite make myself see +you, even now.... I suppose I'm silly--I'd like to see you sitting +under the light in there, sewing for me, just once." + +"You mean mending, not sewing," Joy told him cheerfully. However the +wishing ring may have felt about the request, the princess was +frankly delighted, "Have you got many? I do them very fast!" + +John still looked doubtful. He still seemed to feel that it was a +mean advantage to take of the most domesticated ring and princess. + +"You see," he explained, "Mother's idea is--and it's likely a very +good one--that when socks have holes you throw 'em away and get +more. She doesn't make allowance, though, for one's getting attached +to a pair. And I bought six pairs lately that I liked awfully well, +and I hated to see them die.... They're just little holes." + +"I'll get them and do them as soon as we're through dinner," she +promised. "Won't your mother mind?" + +"She'll be delighted," John promised sincerely. "But she hasn't +them. I have." + +Accordingly, after dinner Joy demanded them, and John produced them, +while she got out her mending-basket, something he had never +suspected her of possessing, he told her. + +She sat down under the lamp with her work, tying on the little +sewing-apron Mrs. Hewitt had given her the day before. + +"Why, they scarcely have holes at all," she marveled. "I can do lots +more than these." + +"There are lots more," said John rather mournfully. But he did not +feel particularly mournful. He was absorbed in the picture she made +sitting there by the lamp, near the fire, her red mouth smiling to +itself a little, and her black lashes shadowing her cheeks as her +hands moved deftly at her work. John himself, on the other side of +the fire, had a paper across his knees, but he forgot to read it, +watching her. She seemed to turn the place into a home, sitting there +quietly happy, swiftly setting her tiny, accurately woven stitches. + +John's mother was an adorable playmate, but responsibilities were, +to her, something to laugh about. She had always declared that John +should have been her father, not her son; and he had always tried to +fill the role as best he could. But there had always been things, +though he had never admitted it to himself, that he had missed. It +would have been pleasant to him if there had been some one who +shared his interest in the looks of the place and in the gardens and +orchards that were his special pride. He would have liked to have +his mother care about his patients, to play for him in the evenings, +perhaps, and to think about his tastes in little things. But though +a tall harp stood in a corner of the living-room, and a piano was +somewhere else, they were not often touched. Mrs. Hewitt was +passionately interested in people. She loved traveling and +house-parties and fads of all kinds--but she had no roots to speak +of. John had never felt so much as if his house was his home as he +did tonight, with the cold rain dashing against the windows outside, +and inside the warm light, and the busy girl sitting across from +him, sewing, and smiling to herself. + +She looked up, as he glanced across at her contentedly, and spoke. + +"I thought you seemed a little down tonight when you came in, John. +How is the little La Guardia girl? You were having something of a +struggle over her treatment the last time I went with you." + +"By Jove, you have a memory!" said John, seeming a little startled. +"The child is worse today, and it was on my mind. How on earth did +you guess it, Joy?" + +She only laughed softly. + +"Don't you suppose I'm interested in your affairs? I don't like you +to be worried. And I knew Giulia La Guardia was the only patient who +wasn't doing well at last accounts. Just what is the trouble?" + +John leaned forward and began to tell her about the child. Her blue +eyes glanced up and down, back and forth, from him to her sewing, as +she listened, and occasionally asked a question. They had both +forgotten everything but the room and themselves, when they heard a +genial male voice in the hall. + +"No, indeed, my dear girl," it said, "I don't need to be announced +in the very least. I'll go straight in." + +And in just as brief a time as it might take an active young man to +shed his overshoes and his raincoat, in walked Clarence Rutherford, +as gay as always, and unusually secure of his welcome. + + + + + + +CHAPTER ELEVEN + +PIRATE COUSINS TO THE RESCUE + +"Thought I'd drop in and tell you some inspiriting news, it's such a +beastly night," said he with _empressement_. "--Princess Melisande! +What have they been doing to you?" he broke off to ask tenderly under +his breath. "Our little princess turned into a Cinderella!" + +His tone was calculated to induce self-pity in the breast of an +oyster. But Joy, though she liked it mildly, did not feel moved to +tears. Clarence was an interruption, even if a flattering one. + +"My mother is ill," explained John, when Clarence had greeted him +also in his most setting-at-ease manner. ("Kind of a man who'd try +to make you welcome in your own house!" he growled under his breath. +John also felt interrupted.) + +But Clarence established himself friendlily in a third chair, and +told Joy with charming masterfulness that she was to put down her +work immediately and listen to him. + +"We're going to get up a Gilbert and Sullivan opera," said he. "Now +it stands to reason that we have to have you. I can tell by the +pretty way you speak you have a good stage delivery, and you have +all sorts of presence. Question is, have you a voice? If so, much +honor shall be yours." + +"Well, I've had lessons for years, and they say so," offered Joy +modestly. "It's mezzo-soprano--lyric." + +Both men looked at her in surprise. People were always being +surprised at things she knew--as if she had ever done anything in +her life but be trained--for no particular purpose, as it had +seemed. And now everything she knew seemed to be going to be useful, +one way or another. Harp lessons, singing lessons, lessons in the +proper way to speak Grandfather's poetry--there had never seemed to +be any particular point to any of them. And now everything was +falling into line. + +"Go on," said Clarence. "But I forgot, you said you couldn't dance." + +"Only the kind that people do in--bare feet and Greek draperies, and +I hate that," Joy answered deprecatingly. + +"You are a Philistine," said Clarence. "But it's attractive." + +"One of Grandfather's friends does it for a living, and taught me, as +a token of affection and esteem, she called it. Would it be any use?" + +"Use?" said Clarence rapturously. "You are exactly what the doctor +ordered. If I can stun Gail into submission you shall be our leading +lady, with all the real star parts in your grasp. Rehearsals at ten +sharp, and _I'm_ the director. _Me voici!_" + +He rose and made her a deep bow. + +He had, apparently, quite forgotten John, who still sat quietly with +his paper across his knees, listening to them. + +"And where do I come in?" he asked with a little twinkle in his eyes. + +"Oh-oh yes," returned Clarence genially, "my dear fellow, how could +we have forgotten you? Good old John, to want a part!" + +He sounded to Joy rather too much as if he was saying, "Good old Fido!" + +"It's something like saying it to a large dog with a bite, too," she +meditated naughtily. "Clarence may find that out in a minute." + +She went on with her domestic duties, mending the tiny holes in the +socks in her lap, and smiling secretly to herself. It did not occur +to her, but if any one had told her a month before that she would be +sitting alone with two interesting men, watching their relations +becoming more and more strained on her account, she would have +denied it flatly. Now that it was happening it seemed quite natural. +It had doubtless seemed quite natural to Aunt Lucilla.... She darned +on placidly, while Clarence continued his infuriating efforts to put +John at ease. + +"There'll be a delightful part for you, old man," he assured his +friend tenderly. "Don't worry about that. You'll have your chance." + +The idea of a dominant, large-ideaed, hardworking John Hewitt +hungering for "his chance" in an amateur comic opera struck Joy as +so funny that she couldn't repress a small giggle and a glance +across at him. John caught her look and gave her an answering gleam +of amusement. + +"You have the kindest heart in the world, Rutherford," said he +sedately, "and I'll never forget it of you. ... Joy, my dear, would +you mind running upstairs and seeing if Mother needs anything? And +you may put away those socks you've been doing in my top drawer at +the same time." + +Joy stiffened a little at the tone of easy authority, and then +caught John's eye again. The amused look was still there--that, and +a look of certainty that she would help him play his hand. He was +getting neatly back at Clarence! + +She rose meekly. + +"Yes, John," she said in the very tone she would have used if the +alternative had been a beating, and excusing herself to Clarence in +the same meek voice, took herself and her completed work upstairs. + +A glance at her room through the crack of the door told Joy that +Mrs. Hewitt was sleeping sweetly. She opened the door of John's room +with a more fearful heart. It seemed a little frightening to go into +his own private room where he lived. She pushed open the door and +tiptoed in. + +It was a large room, very orderly, with a faint, fresh smell of +cigars and toilet water about it--the smell that no amount of airing +can ever quite drive out of a man's room. Joy liked it. The dresser, +flanked by a tie-rack, faced her as she came in. She ran to it, +jerked out a drawer and stuffed in the socks hurriedly, and turned +to go down again. In the middle of the room she paused for a moment. +It was all so intimately, dearly John, and she did love John so!... +And what was she, after all, with all her independences and +certainties, but an ignorant, unwise child whom two wise grown men +were using for a pet or a plaything--how could she tell which? + +She felt suddenly little and frightened and helpless. The current of +mischief and merriment dropped away from her for a minute, here +where everything, from the class picture on the wall to the pipe on +the bureau, spoke so of John--of what everything about him meant to +her--about what going away from him would mean. She flung herself on +her knees beside the narrow iron cot in the corner, her arms out +over the pillow where his head rested. + +"Oh, God, please make it all come straight and right!" she begged. +"I don't suppose I did what I ought to, and maybe I'm not now, but +please do let things come out the way they should! And if you can't +make us both happy, make John--but--oh, God, please try to tuck me +in too--I do want to be happy so!" + +She knelt there a little longer, with her arms thrown out over the +pillow. Saying her prayers always comforted her. She waited till she +was quieter. Then she rose resolutely and dried her eyes, and went +downstairs again, to make her report. + +She found that Clarence was gone. + +"I got rid of him," John explained serenely to her questioning +glance. "You didn't need him particularly, did you, kiddie?" + +Joy lifted her eyebrows. + +"Not particularly," she replied, "but I should have liked to say +good-night to him." + +"I felt exactly that way myself," responded John cheerfully, "so I +did. I was like the man in the Ibsen parody, who said, 'I will not +only make him _feel_, but be at home!'" He paused a moment, and +looked graver. "Come here, kiddie," he said. + +Joy had been standing just inside the door all this time, on tiptoe +for flight. She came slowly over in response to his beckoning hand, +and he drew her down to a stool beside him, keeping his arm around her. + +"Little girl," he said, "you're young, and you're inexperienced, and +I don't want to see you let Rutherford go too far. I'd rather you +didn't take part in this affair he's getting up." + +Joy started back from his encircling arm, and looked at him +reproachfully. + +"Oh, John! Why, I want to _dreadfully!_" + +"It isn't that I want to take any pleasure away from you," he +explained. "It's simply that the opera would of necessity throw you +into closer contact with Clarence--and I don't think you quite +understand what Clarence is. He is very attractive, but, as I have +told you before, he is not a man I would trust. A man who goes as +deliberately about making women in love with him as he does, with a +frank admission to other men that he collects them, isn't a man I +want you to have much to do with." + +Joy moved away from the arm entirely. She felt hurt. + +"In other words, you're afraid he'll toy with my young affections?" +she answered flippantly. "Very well--let him try! Goodness knows +he's labeled loudly enough. Every time he comes within a mile +somebody says that about him. Everything about him says it for +itself, for the matter of that. It isn't any secret. Let him toy! It +amuses him and doesn't hurt me." + +"If I could be sure it wouldn't hurt you--" said John in a low +voice. "He is very fascinating, Joy." + +There was a note of pain in John's voice, but Joy did not heed it. + +"_You_ are hurting me!" she said angrily, rising. "How can you----" + +She did not finish. She had been going to say, "How can you talk +that way when I belong to you?" but she had not the courage. He +could never know how much she belonged to him. "I very much want to +be in this opera, and I think I shall," she said definitely. + +"I have no way of preventing you," he answered coldly. + +"But can't you trust me not to be silly?" she asked in a softer +tone. "Oh, John, I'll promise not to let Clarence break my heart. I +promise not to let _anything_ break it. Good-night." + +She gathered up her mending-basket, set her chair carefully where it +had belonged, and went slowly out of the room without another word. + +She did not know how John would greet her next morning. But he +proved to be no more of a malice-bearing animal than she, and when +she smiled brightly at him over the coffee-cups he smiled back in +quite as friendly a fashion, and they had a very cheerful breakfast +together--so cheerful that John was late getting out on his rounds. +At the door he paused, looking back at her. + +"Look here, kiddie, I wasn't fair about that thing last night," he +said. "I've been thinking it over. I haven't a right in the world to +ask you to keep out of something that would give you pleasure. Go on +and play all the parts there are in it if you like. I'll be in it +myself, in the 'nice part' Rutherford is so considerately saving up +for me--" he grinned--"and----" + +"And if you see me being swept off my feet you can wave your +handkerchief, or something," ended Joy for him, and they both +laughed. And so peace was restored, and Joy went on about her +morning duties with a happy heart. It seemed to her, as she thought +of him while she worked, that he had been unwontedly tender of her +as he bade her good-by. She could not think why. At any rate she was +very happy, and she sang as she sat at the living-room desk, after +her morning inspection of the ice-box, writing out the list for the +marketing, and the menus for that day's luncheon and dinner. + +The maids took a deep interest in her, and if instant obedience and +willing service meant anything, approved of her. This was the day +when she was going to have to get the dinner all herself, and she +was looking forward to it with pleasure. She had never been left to +herself to do anything at home, because Grandmother and old +Elizabeth had seen her toddle into the kitchen and "want to help" +when she was four, and they therefore honestly thought she was four +still where judgment was concerned. + +As she sat and hummed to herself and wrote, the telephone rang. She +sprang to it with that unquestioned obedience which telephone-bells +cow us into, and listened. The Harrington children had called her up +a couple of times, and she thought it might be Philip. Or maybe +Clarence. But instead, she heard Gail's slow, assured voice. + +"Clarence has been telling me the sad story of your life," she +drawled, "and implores me to rescue you. I'm coming over to do it in +a moment or so--as soon as I can detach Harold Gray from my side.... +I've told him he also must devote himself to your service, so expect +him along some time today." + +She hung up without waiting for an answer, before Joy could do +anything. She sat back in her chair, staring out the window in +dismay. She had no idea what Clarence might have said about +anything, but she devoutly wished he hadn't said it. She did not +want Gail in her house. She caught herself up. That was the way she +was coming to think of it--her house! + +"Well, it isn't," she reminded herself. "After all, I'm a pilgrim +and a stranger, and Gail is an old friend." + +She returned to her list and her planning, though the fun was all +out of it; and when Gail arrived a half-hour later, a bunch of +chrysanthemums in her belt and a small grip in her hand, she greeted +her with admirable calm. + +She wished for a moment that Clarence had seen fit to come himself. +He might say too familiar things, but at least there was an +undertone of admiration about him very comforting in Gail's +half-scornful presence. Also he sat on Gail occasionally in a calm +and brotherly manner which cheered. + +"Poor little Cinderella!" Gail greeted her. "I hear that Mrs. Hewitt +has dropped all the housekeeping on your shoulders, John makes you +do all the sewing--including his clothes, I suppose--and treats you +like a ten-year-old child. Even allowing for Clarence's passionate +transports you seem to be quite painfully noble in your +acquiescence.... I have come to see to this!" + +Joy stiffened. + +"Thank you, I am perfectly happy," she stated untruthfully. "Won't +you sit down?" + +Gail flung her hat and cloak on a distant settee, and dropped her +grip at her feet. + +"Not till I go up and see poor dear Mamma Hewitt," she answered. +"Poor darling, she must be lonely!" + +She sauntered out of the room, leaving Joy at the desk. She was down +again in a few minutes. Gail never seemed to hurry. She merely got +where she wanted to be with no visible effort. She nodded to Joy as +she entered the room again, and dropped into a morris chair. + +"Mrs. Hewitt says I am to go as far as I like," she informed Joy, +half-amusedly. "Mother never seems to want any help at home, thank +goodness, and all I have to do over there is to amuse little friends +who drop in. You get tired of that after awhile. I told Clarence to +send away any suitors who might trail over!" + +She flung her arms up over her head and laughed a little to herself, +stretching her whole indolent, graceful body. + +"I like new things to amuse myself with," she informed Joy. "Now +you'll send the maids in." + +Joy did not like any of this. And she found herself more and more +certain that she did not like Gail Maddox. + +"If she has all those lovers," she thought resentfully, like a +child, "why doesn't she stay home and play with them instead of +coming over here where we were perfectly happy without her?" + +But she was too proud to do anything about it, so instead of going +up to Mrs. Hewitt's bedroom to appeal to Caesar she went to the +kitchen without further comment, and informed the maids that Mrs. +Hewitt had decided Miss Maddox was to have charge for the day. + +The lively chorus of growls with which this was received cheered +Joy's unregenerate heart. She did not stay to either soothe or +encourage the rebellion. + +"I've told the maids," she said colorlessly to Gail, returning. + +"Good infant," said Gail, and proceeded to gather the flowers out of +the vases where Joy had herself arranged them a half-hour before, +and rearrange them. + +Joy watched her for a minute or so. Then--"You aren't going to need +me?" she asked with a misleading quietness. "Because if you aren't +I--I have something to do for a little while." + +"Not a bit. Run along," granted Gail. "I'll have some toil ready for +you when you get back, if you like." + +Joy was like the lady in the poem, who died in such a hurry. + + "She did not stop to don her coat, + She did not stop to smooth her bed." + +She fled hatless in the direction of a place that had always meant +soothed feelings and comfort generally, the Harrington house. +Phyllis wouldn't be there, to be sure, but the place would have her +peace and sunniness about it. + +The children were ranging up and down the garden paths with squeals +and shouts of happiness which were, apparently, merely because of +life in general. They fell upon her with still wilder shouts; or at +least Philip did, while Angela clung as far up as she could reach. + +Joy hugged all the children she could reach with a warm sense of +gratitude to them for wanting her, and (still led by gratitude) +entered enthusiastically into tag herself. It was quite new to her, +because she had never played children's games, but she found that +she liked it exceedingly.... Suppose Gail did go slidingly around +explaining to everybody convincingly that everybody else was in love +with her--suppose it was even true? Why, even then--when you're +young and alive it's fun to go running up and down a garden in the +stimulating October air. + +They ended in the big swing. Philip insisted on doing most of the +pushing, because, as he explained, they were all girls and he +wasn't. Joy held little Angela fast, and gave herself up to the +delight of being swung. Philip pushed her higher and higher, till +they were both screaming with pleasure, and, when the swing was at +the top, could see over the tall hedge to the road outside. + +There was something chugging inquiringly out there. And it was--it +was, indeed, John's little doctor-car. And it held John, and it was +slowing up. As these facts, one by one, became apparent to Joy and +Angela in their excursions above the hedge, there was great +happiness in the garden. + +"I knew he'd come!--He said he'd come!" announced Philip gleefully, +pushing like mad. "He said he would! He's been here every day since +they went. I asked him yesterday"--these sentences were interspersed +with the pantings necessary to pushing a swingful of ladies--"I +asked him whyn't he stay for dinner, and he said--he said he wanted +to go home an' have luncheon wiv Joy. So I s'pose he'll stay today, +long's you're here." + +In Joy's naughty mind a Great Idea sprang to birth. Whyn't he stay, +indeed? He didn't know about Gail's coming to brighten his fireside, +and there wasn't any reason why he should. + +"He'll stay if I can make him," she told Philip gaily. + +In the back of her head--she should unquestionably have had her +hands slapped--there was a beautiful and complete picture of Gail +being insolently alluring to three empty chairs and a luncheon table +and four unoccupied walls. + +"See John!" screamed Angela, trying to clap her hands, and having to +be grabbed hastily so she shouldn't fall out of the swing. "Johnny! +Johnny! Come in!" + +John looked up in time to see the swing before it went downward +again. He waved his hand as it came up, and the third time it rose +Joy saw the car still, but no John. He was coming in. + +He appeared a moment later, striding over the lawn. The children +dashed for him, as usual. + +"Johnny, Johnny!" they clamored. "She says you can stay to lunch! +She says she will if you will." + +With the way made so easy for her erring feet, what could Joy say +but "Don't you want to?" + +She did not insist. + +But John accepted on the spot with unsuspecting heartiness, and +Philip solved the last problem by scampering off over the rustling +leaves to telephone that John wouldn't be home for luncheon. + +So they had a very merry luncheon, though an occasional whiff of +guilt made Joy fall silent--which was not noticeable, because +Philip's conversation flowed on brightly in all the breaks, and +sometimes when there weren't any. + +"Want me to take you back, Joy?" John asked when they were done, +looking down at her quizzically, as he had a trick of doing. "Gail +must want you by this time." + +"Gail!" stammered Joy. Then her courage came back, as it usually did +when she summoned it, and she laughed. + +"Heavens, I am discovered!" she quoted. "Why, John, you don't mean +to tell me you ran away too?" + +"I didn't run away," countered John. "I promised Philip yesterday +that I'd stay here to luncheon with him. In fact, I think I promised +to summon you. I stopped at the house to do it just now and found +you here already. I explained matters to Gail, and she is up in +Mother's room, having her luncheon there." + +He turned to the children. "Say good-by to Joy now, infants--I'm +going to take her away with me." + +"You do that a great deal of the time, it seems to me," observed +Philip regretfully. "But of course, I suppose she really does belong +to you." + +"Exactly," laughed John, lifting the little boy up to kiss him. "She +does. Come, my property." + +They got into the car amicably, laughing over Philip. But John +wasn't through with her. + +"Was it quite courteous, my dear," he asked gently, but with a +certain firmness, "to leave Gail that way? It was only a chance that +I was able to explain it. In a sense she was a guest in your house." + +Joy flamed up. + +"Was it quite courteous of Gail," she demanded passionately, "to +come in and take my house away from me, and demand that I hand her +over the housekeeping--no, not demand it, calmly take it?" + +John looked a little perplexed for the moment, which gave Joy time +to calm down a little, and remind herself that men were like that. + +"Somehow one doesn't expect Gail to be considerate," he explained +finally. "It--well, it isn't one of her qualities. I think I heard +her say once that she had never found it necessary. But you--I +expect so much more of you, Joy!" + +One would suppose that this might have been soothing. John seemed to +consider it so. But it wasn't. + +"She's so charming that nobody expects anything else of her," Joy +flashed back, "and I have to be good, because all people can like me +for is my goodness--is that what you mean?" + +And she stood up, as the car slowed before the Hewitt house, and +sprang out. She had seen Clarence Rutherford sunning himself +expectantly on the steps. + +"There's the man who sent her over, if you approve of it all so +highly," were her departing words to John. "I promise not to be +inhospitable to him!" + +She waved her hand. + +"Mr. Rutherford!" she called. "Come on down and go off somewhere +with me!" + +Clarence unfolded himself with more haste than usual, and obliged. + +"To the end of the world, Sorcerette, or any little place like +that," he said sweetly. "I have no car, alas, but I can telephone +for one." + +"No, don't," said Joy, whose one idea was to get away. "Just go into +the house and bring me my cap and any wrap you can find." + +She did not dare look back to John. She felt she was being +everything she oughtn't to, but she also felt that she had cause. + +"Here's your hat," said Clarence, coming out with it, and refraining +from completing the quotation. "Where do you want to go? I have many +beautiful plans to offer you, principally about your being leading +lady in my comic opera. You are going to have to get an extension of +parole from the dear ones at home." + +"Oh, do you really think I can act in it?" asked Joy happily as they +went down the leafy road together. She gave a little frisk as she spoke. + +"Of course you can," said he. "As a matter of fact, that's my +principal reason for getting it up. I have a book that contains all +the Gilbert librettos in my most bulging pocket. You and I will +wander out into the wonderful autumn woods, and sit down on a soft, +pleasant log, and pick out the opera, and the cast, and be happy +generally. Only I won't play unless, as I explained last night, you +are a leading lady with a real star part. As I'm a wonderful stage +manager I feel strongly that it will be thus." + +"Thank you," said Joy amiably but absently. Something appalling had +just occurred to her. + +"Good gracious," she told him, "it's a special occasion, and the +cook and the waitress are both going off to funerals or something, +and Gail is going to have to get that whole dinner single-handed!" + + + + + + +CHAPTER TWELVE + +DINNER FOR FIVE + +Clarence smiled most agreeably. + +"You should try to be more of an optimist, dear Joy," he reproved. +"Try to live up to your name." + +"I got it out of Blake," said Joy, "or they did--and I never did see +why you should live up to a name your grandfather pinned on you out +of a poetry book." + +"Pardon this seeming curiosity," hinted Clarence, "but didn't you +ever have any parents, not even to the extent of their having a +chance to name you?" + +"They died before I was born," Joy explained. "At least, as much as +they could. My father quite did and my mother died before I was a +week old. So Grandfather had it all to do, as far as naming went. +You know that horrid poem-- + + _"I have no name-- + I am but three days old:"_ + +"And it's called Infant Joy, and so was I." + +"They seem to have begun wrecking your taste for literature early," +observed Clarence. + +"Oh--literature!" said Joy wearily. + +"Your tone hints that we didn't come off to discuss the poets. You +are quite right, Sorcerette. When two charming young persons like +ourselves are alone together on a wonderful fall afternoon they +should discuss only each other. And you must admit that my +references to literature were only incidental to yourself." + +"Well, anyway," stated Joy, pausing as they strolled, and beginning +to braid into a garland a handful of wild asters she had gathered, +"anyway, I ought to go back to the house and help Gail get dinner. +John likes things just so." + +"Heavens, how marital!" sighed Clarence, wincing. Then suddenly he +seemed more in earnest than Joy had ever known him. "Can't you ever +talk or think of anything but the admirable John? How on earth did +he get you so thoroughly broken in?" + +Joy's cheeks flamed. + +"He didn't 'break me in,'" she defended. "But I think I ought to see +to it that things are all right. You see, when your cousin came and +offered to take over the housekeeping--if she wasn't your cousin, I +might say she got it away from me--she thought she was helping +herself to a 'nice, clane, aisy job,' as the Irishman said about +being a bishop. It really isn't fair to let her in for work she +didn't expect." + +The look Clarence bent on her this time held genuine admiration. + +"I think it is exceedingly fair," was all he said. + +"Really?" she asked. She certainly did not want to go back to the +house, and, noble as Clarence might think her, she didn't feel a bit +like taking orders from Gail. + +"She has made her bed--or it may even be, her beds," said Clarence. +"Now why don't you let her lie in it, or them?" + +"Well, I don't want to go home," said Joy a little sadly. + +"Let us be optimists, as I suggested some yards back," said Clarence +cheerfully. "Let us think of the wonderful effect it will all have +on Gail's moral nature. By the time she has produced the +eight-course dinner which I gather the worthy Dr. Hewitt requires to +keep him the good citizen he is, she will be ennobled to a terrible +degree. You have heard of the ennobling influence of toil, dear +child?" + +"I have, but I never believed in it," said Joy. "It makes you cross, +especially peeling potatoes, and it's bad for your hands. And +judging by the number of maids who steal, it doesn't work at all." + +"I suppose," Clarence resigned himself, "that if Melisande were +still spared to us in the flesh, she really would have talked this +way, except that she would have used a few more dots. But one is an +idealist. One is jarred. If you could recite, in your soft, +clear-cut voice that is so admirably adapted for poetry, a few +stanzas of something heartbreaking----" voluntarily. + +Joy, not unnaturally, lost patience. + +"I have spent my whole life, or a lot more of it than I want to, +reciting heartbreaking poetry," she told him. "If you want it, go +buy a phonograph record. And if you want me out here in the woods +with you, stop talking about it!" + +She really shouldn't have been so cross. Clarence was supposed to be +very clever when he talked. But just then she was only half +listening to him, and there came a sudden vision of the night +before--the cozy room, and the wood fire, and John across from her, +smiling gravely at her, and talking in a way that didn't make her +feel, as Clarence's way did, that he was laughing at her underneath, +when he thought she couldn't see. + +John had told her once that his ideal girl wore something white or +blue, and had her hair parted, and was connected in his mind some +way with a wood fire. And he had talked and acted as if she was that +girl. She'd had on the little blue dress that she'd bought, and made +look modern with a fichu of Mrs. Hewitt's.... + +Clarence's voice interrupted her thoughts, rather plaintively. + +"Dear Joy! I _will_ buy a phonograph record! I will buy a whole +album of them. I will purchase a copy of the Last Ravings of John +McCullough, and have it rave to me the last thing every night, as a +penance, if you will only stop looking off into space, and give at +least a fair imitation of knowing that I exist." + +Joy's heart misgave her. She really wasn't being very polite. + +"Of course you exist," she said penitently. "And you are very nice +and polite, in your way, and you must make allowance for my not +being clever. I keep telling you that all the time." + +"I am delighted that you are not, as you call it, clever," said +Clarence with undoubted sincerity. "You lack verbal dexterity of a +certain kind, because you have never associated freely with people +you could be disrespectful to. But you are quite a new kind of girl, +or else a survival, and I adore you for it. I never thought I was +going to adore any one so much. Why, I even think it is humorous +when you sit on me, and that, my dear, is a very bad symptom. In +short, I am very much in love with you." + +Clarence had a habit of talking that way, and Joy didn't pay much +attention to it. In a phrase of his own, it was like kissing over +the telephone--it didn't get you anywhere, but it had a cunning +sound. It has a warming feeling to think that any one is in love +with you, even if you know they aren't. She said as much. + +But Clarence became what was, for him, sulky. Clarence had one +curious thing about him: he never showed his temper at all, but you +couldn't be with him ten minutes without being morally certain that +he had a very bad and sullen one, which he merely kept concealed for +reasons of his own. Whereas John Hewitt's temper, which +undisguisedly was in existence, wasn't a thing you ever thought of +excepting rather amusedly and affectionately. It was such a +little-boy thing in comparison with the grown-up, responsible rest +of him! It would undoubtedly appear some time this afternoon or +evening. At the thought of it Joy felt her usual affectionate +amusement. When it was over he would be very sorry. + +"You haven't told me anything about the comic opera yet," she hinted +to Clarence, who had been quite silent for the last while. "Don't +you want to?" + +"I do!" said Clarence, coming out of his muse and turning into his +ordinary self. "We will sit down on the next stump or stone we see, +and go into the matter thoroughly." + +It was a large flat stone, with a tree for Joy to lean against. They +sat down on it, and Clarence pulled the libretto book out of his +pocket, and they went to work. + +Joy knew the Gilbert and Sullivan operas from a copy of the words +that had always been around the house. So there was no delay while +she read the book through, as Clarence seemed to have expected. + +"To my mind it lies between 'Patience' and 'Iolanthe,'" said +Clarence. "The 'Mikado' has been done to death, and so has 'Trial by +Jury.' And 'Princess Ida' is too full of blank verse, and the men's +solos are too hard." + +So far as Joy was concerned nothing had been done to death. She +would quite willingly have been the humblest chorus-girl in +"Pinafore," if Clarence had willed to have that much-done classic. +But he seemed determined to have her play a large part in whatever +it was, and to have whatever it was _Iolanthe_. He wanted to be +_Strephon_, it seemed; in fact, he had been. And he wanted Joy +for the _Phyllis_ or _Iolanthe_. + +Joy had a faint feeling that Phyllis Harrington ought to have the +part with her own name, but Clarence explained that names had +nothing whatever to do with it unless you were a movie star, when +you used your first name in order to make the public more interested +in your personality. + +"We will give Gail the part you don't want," he told her, "as a +punishment for not letting you cook your eight-course dinner +tonight. By the way, we must time ourselves to get back and eat it. +I wonder whether Gail can cook. On second thoughts, why not stay out +till it's over?" + +"The play!" said Joy imperatively. + +"Well," he said, yielding, "would you rather be a fairy princess or +a shepherdess from Arcady? I'd prefer to have you the shepherdess, +for personal reasons. I wish to be the shepherd." + +"Whatever you say," said Joy absently. "It's getting colder. Hadn't +we better walk a little?" + +"Very well," said Clarence. "We can argue as we walk." + +The problem of making sixteen young women willing to be a chorus and +of finding sixteen or twenty young men to be anything, took them +quite a while to discuss. They walked on as they talked, until it +began to get darker. + +"By the way, have you any idea where we are?" inquired Clarence, +stopping short to look about him. "New England woods are not my +native habitat." + +"Nor mine," said Joy, startled. "I think we ought to go back to the +high road." + +"If there's any left to go back to," suggested Clarence. "We've been +on one way-path after another so long that I don't think I could +find it again." + +They turned around, and continued to follow way-paths back. Clarence +had no pocket compass, such as people who get lost ought to possess. +And it was getting relentlessly darker and darker. Joy had never +been lost before, and she was surprised to find the feeling of panic +that possessed her when she grasped the fact that neither of them +knew where they were. Finally they gained a clear space where there +was a tolerably traveled-looking road. + +"If we wait here somebody may come along," said Clarence. "Jove, I'm +hungry!" + +"So am I," said Joy. + +But there wasn't anything to do about _that_. Finally Joy +remembered that she had some chocolate in her little handbag, and +they divided it and ate it. After that life was a little brighter. + +"Do you suppose we'll have to stay here all night?" demanded Joy. +"We'll freeze to death if we do." + +"No, I don't," said Clarence. "But, Joy dear, if we do----" + +The mockery was all out of his voice. + +"Oh, don't talk about it!" she exclaimed. "Surely somebody will come +get us--or couldn't we go up this road till we find a farmhouse?" + +"If you like," said Clarence. + +They rose and walked on for a while. + +"Oh, listen!" Joy whispered. "I hear something!" + +"It's a car," said Clarence hopefully. + +And it was. It was John's car, with John in it, and the temper Joy +had been thinking of tenderly was with him. He was evidently +thoroughly angry, for he scarcely spoke, even when he found them. + +"See here, Hewitt," Clarence protested. "You aren't doing the thing +at all properly. You should say, 'My own! At last I have found you!' +instead of backing up the car with a short sentence like that." + +What John had said, as a matter of fact, was, "Get in the car. It's late." + +He did come to a little at Clarence's flippant reminder, and smiled +reluctantly. + +"Well, you see, it was self-evident. I _had_ found you both. You +oughtn't to have walked so far if you didn't know where you were going." + +"It is also self-evident that it is late," said Clarence stiffly, +and, it must be confessed, a little sulkily. "Nevertheless, we're +having a very pleasant time.... Is dinner over?" + +John, for no apparent reason, smiled frankly at this. "Not in the +least," he said. "They are waiting dinner till the prodigals' +return. My mother has had hers sent up to her, but Gail and your +friend Tiddy are kindly keeping the rest of it hot." + +It is a quicker journey in a car than when you stroll leisurely +along, discussing light opera and your disposition. They were +surprised to find how near, comparatively, they were, to the village. + +"Joy, do you suppose I am invited to dinner?" asked Clarence in a +stage whisper. "If it is not thus I shall probably starve by the +roadside, because Gail sent her mother to a bridge-and-high-tea +before she went, and the maids there had no orders about food. +That's why I was prowling about the hospitable Hewitt mansion." + +Joy couldn't help smiling. "I think you must be," she said. + +But she didn't understand John's allusion to Tiddy. He was abjectly +devoted to Gail, but it did seem that devotion had its limits, when +it came to following her to somebody else's house. + +"What is Tiddy doing in these parts?" Clarence asked for her, as +people so often do ask your questions for you if you only give them +time. "Dinner-party, is it?" + +"Tiddy," said John dryly, "is making himself useful." + +"That is nothing at all new in Tiddy's life," said Gail's cousin. +"People who dwell about Gail do. Am I to understand that he is chief +cook and bottle-washer?" + +"You are," said John. + +They got out and went into the house, Joy feeling as mussy as only a +girl can who has been away from home all day. She followed the +curious-minded Clarence into the kitchen. + +The sight that met their eyes was an interesting one. The kitchen +was a pleasant sight to any one from outside, being warmed and +lighted. It was further decorated by Gail, in a very low and +clinging black frock trimmed with poppies, which it occurred to Joy +must have been in the grip. She was sitting in absolute idleness in +a kitchen chair, with her feet on a footstool, and Tiddy, swathed in +an apron with pink checks, was engaged at the kitchen range. + +"Good work, old boy!" Clarence called out to him. "What have you got?" + +Tiddy turned a scarlet face toward him, and waved one hand, with a +spoon in it. + +"Gail said there had to be a good dinner," he said worriedly, "but I +don't know how to make many things. This is soup.... It doesn't look +right to me, somehow. Come here, Clarence, and give it a once over." + +Joy, leaning against the lintel with John a little behind her as +usual, couldn't help but admire Gail. She knew perfectly well that +it would never have occurred to her in Gail's place to sit placidly +in a chair while a lad who ought to have been at home studying-Tiddy +was cramming to catch up with his class at college--wrestled with +the stove. But, after all, that was the sort of thing she had always +read of sirens doing. And even if the victim was only a little +college boy, of what Clarence called frying size, it was a sight to +make one wishful. Also apprehensive--mightn't Gail set John peeling +potatoes next? That sight would be an annoying one from various angles. + +John showed no signs of being about to yield, at least at the +moment. He joined Clarence in teasing Tiddy, who took it very +sweetly, but he finally came forward and showed the lad how to +manage the drafts. + +"Call us when you're ready, Cookie," said Clarence amiably, and +sauntered out. John followed him. + +"Can't I help?" asked Joy, staying conscientiously behind. She still +felt that it was her responsibility. + +"Not a bit," said Gail. "We're getting along wonderfully. You'd +better go up and get straightened out, though--you look blown to +bits. Oh, and send John back as you go through, Tiddy can't do the +drafts right." + +Joy went out obediently. + +"John, I am to send you back as I go through. Tiddy can't do the +drafts right," she repeated in a colorless voice that had anger +underneath it, and walking on as she spoke. + +"Drafts--nonsense--Gail's lonesome," Clarence answered cheerfully, +from the couch where he had thrown himself. + +"All right," said John, who was the soul of politeness, but an +annoyingly dense person compared to Clarence, it seemed to Joy. He +went out. Joy ran upstairs as fast as she could go. She arrived at +the top, breathless and still angry, and remembered that she ought +to go in and see Mrs. Hewitt. But the lights were low, generally a +sign that the lady was asleep, so she went on to her own room. + +"Blown to bits!" she said to herself bitterly, stopping opposite her +confidant, the mirror. "And _she_ sitting on a chair looking +like Marie Antoinette being taken to execution in a kitchen chair!" + +It was a breathless and tautological remark, but it relieved her +feelings. "I oughtn't to feel that way," she reminded herself. +"Because after all, Gail _was_ here first!" + +This didn't seem to make much difference in the feelings. And it was +unquestionable that she was blown about, and very young and owned no +black dress with poppies, nor yet any college boy who would cook for +her at a wave of the hand. + +She pawed her wardrobe through furiously. Joy was always very +dependent for encouragement on the clothes she wore. The proper gown +could make her feel the way it looked, always. They almost had moods +sewed into them around the bottom, she thought sometimes. + +The way she had felt last time she wore the amber satin with the +poem to it, that one she had hated so furiously--could she feel that +way again if she put on the dress? She'd felt young--oh, yes, but as +if youth were a perfectly splendid thing to have. And very alive, +and superior, and rebellious. And ready to have a lover, and to +treat him, if necessary, like a dog--like a whole kennel of dogs! + +So she put it on. She made herself exactly the little princess of +Grandfather's reception days, trailing chiffon panels, swinging +jewel-filleted braids and all, and swept downstairs with her head high. + +Tiddy had by this time managed to get the dinner on the table, and +the other two men, out of sheer pity, were helping him. In fact, +having enthroned Gail at the table, they were making a frolic of the +whole thing. + +"Here, catch the steak, Rutherford," John was saying cheerfully. And +Clarence, with carving-knife and fork outheld, was making as neat a +catch as possible. + +"Here, Tiddy, don't try to stagger in along under those biscuits. +You made 'em. That kind takes two strong men--I know, I've eaten +your biscuits before." + +"I made these the regular way, with yeast," said Tiddy in an injured +voice. "_I_ couldn't help it if they didn't rise in the oven. +Go rag the cookbook." + +Joy could stand it no longer. Forgetting her real state, she rushed +out on them, where they wrestled with the dinner and Tiddy. They +were playing handball with the biscuits by this time. + +"Oh, _Tiddy!_ You didn't put _yeast_ in those biscuits!" +she reproached him. "Why, you poor unfortunate boy, yeast has to +rise over night, or an afternoon anyhow! They're no use!" + +They all three stopped simultaneously at the vision which she had +quite honestly forgotten she presented. Tiddy listened humbly, and +Clarence made a low bow. + +"The Queen came in the kitchen, speaking bread and honey," he quoted +appositely, while John looked both pleased and proud. + +"There, I told you so," he said with triumph. "I said you were in +wrong with those biscuits. Joy always knows." + +"'It was the very best butter,'" quoted Tiddy (who was not without a +sense of humor), from "Alice." + +"But what can we do?" asked John, who was concentrated on the +situation. "The steak's all right--any idiot can broil steak, as +Tiddy has proved--" he had to stop short to dodge a biscuit--"and +the soup came out of a can, so maybe that'll do. But there isn't a +bit of bread, and we simply have to have it. At least I suppose so." + +"Get me an apron, please," Joy asked of the surroundings, and two +aprons were offered her excitedly by three willing hands. She pinned +both on, as a precaution against ruining the amber satin, though she +didn't much mind if it had been ruined, and began by investigating +the soup. It was the best canned tomato bisque, but its cook had not +known or read that it should be watered, or milked, and it was so +thick it was almost stiff. She sent Clarence for milk out of the +refrigerator, and treated it properly. Then she looked at the +biscuits, such as had escaped destruction. They were indeed hopeless. + +"I can make biscuits in a minute, but it will take a half-hour to +bake them in this range," she told them, where they stood, anxiously +awaiting her verdict. "If you didn't mind having them baked on a +griddle----" + +"Like the ones the fellow does in the window at Childs'! Fine!" +responded Tiddy enthusiastically. "I'll get the griddle. I've +learned where everything grows." + +He produced it accordingly, and watched Joy, as did the others, +entranced, while she mixed and cut out biscuits, and baked them in +the griddle scone-fashion. + +They made it a triumphal procession after that, with the biscuits +borne high by Tiddy before Joy, who came in carrying the steak, +followed by Clarence and John with a dish of canned vegetables +apiece. It was far from being the dinner Joy had planned, but the +biscuits were greatly admired, and every one was happy. That is, Joy +was, and apparently the men were. Joy was so pleased to think that +she had been able to straighten out things, and get them a good +dinner, that she forgot to think about Gail at all. She sat in the +tall armchair at the head of the table where John had placed her, +and poured coffee in big cups, to be taken with the dinner, with +flushed cheeks and a gay heart. + +"But what I want to know is," demanded Clarence, "why nobody's ever +seen that frock before." + +"I have," John answered from the foot. "Joy had that on the very +first time I saw her, amber beads and crown and all. I never thought +then I'd see her making my biscuits in it." + +"It's an allegory," said Clarence. "Man captures the beautiful +princess of his dream, and sets her to drudging in his kitchen. _I_ +think there is something sad but sweet, as Shaw would say, about it." + +"But I wanted to make the biscuits!" cried Joy before she thought. +"If I hadn't there wouldn't have been any for dinner--and you +_had_ to have dinner." + +"They didn't at all," said Gail. "You spoil men. If you always say, +'But he has to have it!' and then go tearing around getting it for +him, why----" + +She shrugged her shoulders. + +"There are excellent biscuits a half-mile away, at the baker's in +the village, and a motor-car outside." + +Joy laughed blithely. + +"But you see, I'm not used to a motor-car. I'm not motor-people at +all.... Well, I suppose when you live with a poet you get in the +habit of feeling you must do what people want of you. Grandfather +was so great, you see, we felt it was--well, only polite. At least +Grandmother brought me up that way." + +"I--I say! Was your grandfather _the_ Alton Havenith!" +exclaimed Tiddy, opening his eyes widely. "The one in all the +readers and cram-books and anthologies?" + +"Is." corrected Joy. "He's quite alive. Yes, that's Grandfather--and +this is one of my dresses for his receptions," she added as an +afterthought. + +"Good _gracious!_" breathed Tiddy reverently. They were at the +canned peaches and pound-cake by this time. "I--I suppose you +couldn't say any of his things?" he ended diffidently. He was +evidently a worshiper. + +Joy felt quite herself by now, the old self-possessed Joy of the +salon and recitations. + +"Well, not over the dessert," she said, laughing. "But as soon as +dinner is over, if you want me to. There's one I say to a harp. +There's a harp here." + +"Can you play a harp, too?" demanded Clarence, "as well as make +biscuits? See here, Tiddy, you forget your position in life. You're +a cook. Get thee to the kitchen, while Joy entertains us, who are +the real quality folks." + +"Nonsense," smiled John. "We'll leave things as they are--can't we, Joy?" + +He led the way into the parlor and uncovered the harp for her. No +one would have guessed by his demeanor that this was the first sign +he had had of Joy's accomplishment--he was as matter-of-fact as +possible about it. Only once he smiled across at her secretly, as if +they had something private between them, as she asked him which +thing he thought she had better say to begin with, and named one +immediately. + +She flung back the chiffon that trailed down one slim, round arm, +and, after a little preliminary tuning, began to play. It was "To +Myrtilla at Seventeen" that John had suggested, and harp-music went +well with it. Then she went on to more. She had never thought that +Grandfather would help her this way! + +They kept her at the harp most of the evening. From Grandfather's +poems she slid to some of Grandmother's old songs, plaintive old +things of Civil War days. She was earnestly trying to make her +guests and John's have as good a time as lay in her power, and she +never thought about Gail, quiet and quite out of the center of the +stage, at all. + +Tiddy, rapt and worshipful, clung close to her till the evening was +over. + +"I say," he told her when the others were going, "you--do you know, +you're wonderful! I--do you mind if I come over tomorrow? There's a +lot of things I'd like to ask you about Alton Havenith. I--could I?" + +"Why, of course," said Joy, with her usual eager desire to do +anything nice she could for people. + +He thanked her fervently, and went with obvious reluctance. Gail was +a little silent, even for her, who only talked when she chose. And +at last Joy and John were alone. She felt a little shy of him. + +"I must go clear up," she said presently, as he did not speak, +moving toward the dining-room. + +"You must not," he told her, with the affectionate note in his voice +she loved to hear. "I want to stay here and appreciate my princess a +little, and I can't do it well when she's away--or I don't want to. +Sit down, Joy. I scarcely ever see anything of you any more.... Dear +child, why on earth did you let Gail rampage all over the house this +way? You could have had a maid in from the village." + +"But she said she was going to--and I thought you knew!" cried Joy, +her heart leaping up. + +"Oh, you mean she took possession?" he said. "I see. That is like +Gail. Well--don't let her, next time, my dear." + +"I'd much, much rather not!" said Joy enthusiastically, "but she +said she'd made it all right with your mother, and----" + +"Oh, in that case," said John, "all right." Then he dismissed the +subject, looking into the fire. "I find out some new thing about you +every day, kiddie," he said. "I'm afraid I must seem like a rather +quiet and unaccomplished person to you,--compared to other men." + +"You mean because I ran off with Clarence," said Joy with remorseful +directness, and her usual child-likeness. "I _was_ cross because +you liked Gail." + +He laughed. "And _I_ was cross because you liked Clarence. +Shall we both reform a bit, little girl?" + +"Oh, yes!" replied Joy radiantly. "Only I haven't much to reform +about," she added thoughtfully. "Except he's kind to me, and he +understands things sometimes you don't...." + +John sighed a little. "I see. Yes, he's that sort. Well, try to make +me understand, dear, won't you? ... I want to." + +She slipped her hand impulsively in his as she did sometimes. + +"Then that's all right," he said contentedly. + +But the most all right thing, to Joy's unregenerate heart, was next +morning, when she went up to pay her usual morning visit to Mrs. Hewitt. + +"Joy, will you tell me," demanded the lady, "what you meant by +telling Gail you wanted her to do the housekeeping?" + + + + + + +CHAPTER THIRTEEN + +THE SERIOUS BUSINESS OF "IOLANTHE" + +There was no use having it out with Gail. Joy was not one of those +nerve-shaking people who insist on having things out, anyhow. She +was perfectly content with things as they were. + +The weather settled down to be legitimate October weather, a little +early: crisply lovely outdoors, and of the temperature to be an +excuse for fires indoors at night. Tiddy transferred his allegiance, +still a little shyly, to Joy. The change was good for him, because +they were, after all, very much of an age. They got to be excellent +friends. Also Joy kept him at his studies in a fashion that was, for +her, quite severe: he had asked her if she wouldn't, and she did. +She went off for tramps with him when John was otherwise employed, +which seemed to please John, and prevented her from having Clarence +too much underfoot. + +Gail referred to Tiddy's desertion with her usual note of indolent +amusement--it did not occur to Joy till years later that Gail might +occasionally pretend a superiority to such things as annoy other +girls--and summoned another man from the city for week-ends. Tiddy +was indigenous to the soil. This, as Clarence, with _his_ amiable +superiority, said, was so much to the good, for when you come to +amateur theatricals every man is a man. Clarence was working with an +industry nobody would ever have suspected in him, over "Iolanthe." + +It was easy enough to collect the principals. With a certain amount +of nobility of character, Clarence assigned himself the part of +_Lord Chancellor_, remarking that he could make a fool of +himself rather better than most men he knew. Incidentally he played +opposite to Joy, who refused flatly to take the leading part of +_Phyllis_, and was therefore cast for _Iolanthe_. They found +a suitable and sufficiently stalwart _Fairy Queen_ in the +neighborhood, and made Gail's weekend man _Private Willis_, because +two rehearsals a week were enough for that part, and he was the tallest +man, nearly, that any one had ever seen. He was six feet three and +a half, which is about two and a half inches more than is necessary +for beauty and suitability, to quote Clarence again; but quite what +they wanted just here. + +"But where on earth to get a chorus!" wailed Clarence, after a +rehearsal in the big Hewitt parlor. They were keeping it more or +less a family affair. The Harringtons had returned, bringing the De +Guenthers with them in triumph. Mrs. De Guenther was a dear little +old lady who took a deep interest in the whole scheme, and was of +great use in the costuming. Mr. De Guenther, scholarly, soft-voiced, +and courteously precise, was also allowed to be present at +rehearsals; not because of the costuming, but because he remembered +performances at the Savoy when he was a young man in London, and +could coach them in the business. + +"With a whole village full of people, I should think you could!" +said Gail. "The trouble with you is, Clarry, you're lazy." She +leaned back herself in a long chair as she said it, looking the +personification of indolence. + +"Of course I could!" he said scornfully. "My good girl, have you +seen the worthy New Englanders in this village? There are some of +the most beautiful characters, hereabouts, I was told when I went +seeking for chorus-ladies, that ever existed. But they are far from +being worn on the outside." + +"Laura Ward is coming down over that week, to stay with me," Gail +offered. + +"Yes, and Laura Ward has played _Celia_, and is going to have +to do it again," stated Clarence. "We can't waste a good dancer like +that on the chorus." + +John, who was _Lord Mountararat_, one of _Phyllis'_ two +suitors from the House of Lords, was looking out of the window +absently, humming under his breath one of his songs: + + _"It seems that she's a fairy + From Andersen's lib_rary + _And we took her for + The proprietor + Of a Ladies' Semi_nary!" + +One of the unaccountable silences which sometimes fall made every +absently-sung word quite audible. As he ended Clarence sprang at him +in what would have been a wild embrace if he had not ducked in time. + +"Here, don't let your troubles drive you crazy, Rutherford," John +protested, holding him off with a strong hand. + +"They haven't!" proclaimed Clarence. "But 'them beautiful words!' +See here, you dwellers in this happy vale, isn't there a girls' +school somewhere adjacent? Why don't we bribe the teachers by making +it a benefit for whatever they want--a stained glass window to their +founder, or a new laboratory or something--and lift those girls +bodily, as a chorus?" + +They had been seeking painfully for some worthy object to give the +opera for, and so far hadn't been able to find a thing. So his +project was greeted joyfully. + +"John, as usual, will have to go ask," suggested Allan. "Johnny, old +boy, what _would_ we do without your reputation? You physish at +that school, and I hear they kiss your very shadow." + +"It's probably all they get a chance at," Gail kindly helped John out. + +John, who was wildly adored, as a matter of fact, by most of the +fifteen-year-olds of the school, said "Nonsense!" sternly. + +"Oh, do!" begged Tiddy. Tiddy was _Strephon_, the leading +juvenile, "a fairy down to his waist," and was passionately anxious +to have the whole thing go through. "If you will _I'll_ go and +see what I can yank out of my old prep school. There ought to be +enough boys with changed voices and long legs----" + +"Harold Gray, you are inspired!" said Gail, for once shaken out of +her indolence. _She_ had taken unto herself the part of _Phyllis_ +and was also anxious for the success of "Iolanthe." "And I myself will +go with you. I'll go work my rabbit's foot on the masters. There's +one over there who has already known my fatal charm." + +"You mean the rabbit's foot, or----" + +"I mean that one of the masters is in love with me. The classical +master. We'll work him," stated Gail brutally. + +"If you can make him sell you sixteen boys into slavery your fatal +charm has been some use for once," said Clarence, unruffled. + +Phyllis and John, who were the most serious-minded of the roomful, +saw breakers ahead, but they said nothing. + +"My dear, I _don't_ think the way Miss Maddox talks is nice," +whispered Mrs. De Guenther, who had taken to Joy as all old ladies +did. + +"Don't worry, dear," murmured Phyllis from the other side of her. +"Other people don't, either. But nobody takes her seriously." + +It was a light in Joy's mind on Gail. Nobody took her seriously. She +was just a reckless, erratic creature who said and did as she pleased, +and paid the penalty. Joy never felt so in awe of Gail again. + +"It is a very modern school," said Phyllis to the company in her +sweet, carrying voice. "The teachers are quite in favor of esthetic +dancing, I know, and I am sure if you had two or three of the teachers +in it, too, to look after the girls, there would be no difficulty. +I will go and ask, if you like. We need a _Leila_ and _Fleta_." + +"Oh, say, Mrs. Harrington, I thought you were going to be one of +those, at least!" protested Tiddy, to whom it seemed a shame that +Phyllis' golden loveliness should be wasted. Allan was _Lord +Tolloller_, the other suitor, but Phyllis preferred, she said, to +be generally useful. She was practically understudy to every one in +the place, having a quick memory and a good ear, and spent her time, +besides, hearing parts. Her real reason for not wanting to play was +that she was afraid the De Guenthers would be left too much to +themselves if she was tied up to rehearsals. Clarence worked every +one mercilessly. + +She shook her head good-naturedly. + +"I shall probably have to take the leading man's part on the night," +she told him. "Oh, I forgot it was you, Tiddy--I beg your pardon. +Well, Clarence's, then. And until that awful moment, let me be happy +in obscurity!" + +Joy, who had _Iolanthe's_ long, hard part to learn, and was +delighted with the idea, fixed her eyes on the opposite wall and +tried to remember what she had to say first. She was staying on by +special permission, for the opera. Mrs. Hewitt herself had written +Grandmother. Grandfather, very much pleased at the idea that Joy had +inherited another form of his own talent, had said she could stay +the full week of the performance. As they planned to give it on a +Tuesday night, this was almost a week to the good. + +"Then it's settled that Mrs. Harrington and Gail, with as many more +as are needed, go chorus-hunting tomorrow," said Clarence with +finality. "Now we'll start that 'When darkly looms the day' duet. +Tiddy, Joy! Look interested, please. Bang the piano, if you don't +mind, Mrs. Harrington. Now!" + +Joy and Tiddy accordingly burst into song, assisted by Allan and +John. Mrs. Hewitt, who had to be very stealthy about coming in, +because she had been put out several times for talking in the middle +of some exciting moment, slid into a chair beside the De Guenthers, +and behaved nobly. She was quite able to be around now, and Joy was +beginning to feel that she ought to accede to Phyllis' requests to +go back and stay with them a while. The children demanded her daily. + +"I do hope the gate receipts will be more than the expenses," +Clarence said hopefully in a resting-space. "The last time I got up +anything like this we cleared just two dollars. We'd formally +dedicated it to a Home for the Aged, in the blessed hope that the +directresses would sell tickets enough to fill the hall. But they +didn't. They took our two dollars away from us just the same. I +always begrudged them that two-spot." + +"If you have the girls' school in it that can't happen," Gail +reminded him. "They're little demons at ticket-selling." + +So next day Phyllis took Joy with her, and also the De Guenthers as +an evidence of deep respectability, and they drove over to the +school, and actually secured the co-operation of the girls and their +teachers. The thing was being so hurried through, as amateur +theatricals should be to go well, that the whole thing would be over +in two and a half weeks more. As Phyllis was personally very much +liked by the principal, there was very little trouble made about it. +Indeed, the teachers planned to take notes and borrow costumes, and +give the thing themselves as a commencement entertainment the next +June, if it proved possible. + +The boys were rather harder to get, but here, too, they succeeded, +finally. And "Iolanthe" went prosperously on. + +In a couple more days Phyllis, who really could get almost anything +she wanted from almost anybody, if she took the trouble, coaxed Joy +back from Mrs. Hewitt. + +"You'll have her most of the rest of your natural life," she +pleaded. "And I saw her first. I think I ought to have her now." + +So Mrs. Hewitt reluctantly gave her up, and she went back to the +Harrington house. + +She saw scarcely less of John, because he continued to come +regularly to see them in the mornings on his way home, and generally +got in a little visit in the afternoons, not counting the fact that +he took her on his rounds with him three days out of five. And then, +of course, there were the rehearsals. + +"My dear," he remonstrated with her, as they were on their way home +from one of these, "I don't want to seem to scold you, but you +shouldn't let young Gray put his arm around you the way he does." + +"Put his arm around me?" demanded Joy, quite honestly surprised. +"Why, what do you mean? Oh--the rehearsals! Why--why, John! You and +Allan have to put your arms around Gail every little while, and so +does everybody else. And I'm supposed to be _Strephon's_ mother. +People have to, in theatricals." + +"Clarence seems to think so," said John dryly, and Joy turned her +head to look at him more closely in the moonlight. + +"And now Clarence! Little Philip Harrington does, too, and I suppose +you'll be telling me to have him stop next!" + +But at the scorn in her voice John only became firmer. + +"Gail Maddox is entirely different," he explained. It seemed to Joy +that if he had offered her that explanation once he had a hundred +times. + +"Gail is not different," said Joy firmly. "Anyway, Tiddy is just a baby." + +John could not help laughing. + +"He's not the only one who is just a baby," he said. "You little +goose, he's three or four years older than you ... and heaven knows +how much younger than I am." The thought of that, for some strange +reason, worked a change in his mind. "Never mind me, little girl. I +suppose I'm unreasonable." + +"Well, yes, I think you are," said Joy honestly. Then she laughed. +It was very comfortable to have John jealous, even if it _was_ +silly of him. "All right, John, hereafter I will wear a wire cage +whenever I have any scenes with Tiddy." + +"Better wear it when you have scenes with Clarence," said John rather +sharply. "And let me tell you, a man that will try to steal----" + +"Oh, nonsense!" said Joy calmly again. "First you say that Clarence +is toying with me, then you say he's trying to steal me. Now it +stands to reason he can't do both." + +She was so practical about it that John stopped in spite of himself. + +"I'm afraid I'm too much given to thinking people want to steal +you," he said a little soberly. + +Joy wondered for the thousandth time about the nature of men.... +Sometimes she almost thought she had made John care a good deal for +her. And then again, when he rose up and defended Gail, she quite +thought she hadn't. But as for Clarence, all that was very foolish. +From the time she had seen him every one in the village who had come +near her, it seemed to her, had carefully made it plain that +Clarence was a male flirt, a love pirate, a gay deceiver, a trifler, +a person with no intentions--anything but a man who was in love with +her. He had practically said so himself, as far as she could +remember. And she had been very pleased with the idea, and enjoyed +his behavior--happy in the belief that everything he said had a +stout string to it--very much. Even John admitted that he was +amusing, and certainly he was good-looking and clever. + +But she smiled up at John. + +"It is very nice of you to feel that way," she said. "I appreciate it." + +"You annoying little person!" he replied, half-laughing. "Joy, if I +hadn't learned that you were one of the most honest, straightforward +girls in the world, sometimes I would think you were a good deal of +a coquette." + +"We're here," said Joy irrelevantly for an answer. She still wished +she knew more about men. + +Phyllis' remark about being useful seemed to be in a fair way to be +fulfilled. Allan threatened to put out a sign, he said, on the front +gate, "No coaching done between twelve and three A.M." Finally he +did discover an excellent scheme, which consisted of making the +house and garden look deserted, and locking himself and Phyllis in +the library most of the day. + +"It's rather pleasant," he informed her. "Since I developed this +plan I'm really getting more of your uninterrupted society than I +have since this terrible "Iolanthe" devastated the village.... Just +why did it happen, Phyllis--have you any idea?" + +"Speak lower," said Phyllis. "I'm perfectly certain I heard footsteps." + +"Probably a deputation from Miss Addams' school, to ask you whether +the right or left foot comes first," her husband answered her quite +accurately. + +"But, Allan dear," protested Phyllis, "you know perfectly well that +if I don't go out and stem the tide they will find Joy, and tear the +child away from the first moment she's had with John alone since I +don't know when." + +"This is the first moment I've had alone with you since I don't know +when," he answered, unmoved, coming over and putting both arms +around her, to draw her resolutely away from the door. "And if you +will consider carefully, my darling, you will remember that Joy is +much younger than either of us, and hence has many more years to +spend with John than you have with me. Now cease to be a slave to +duty, or whatever it is, and come sit on the arm of my chair." + +"You'll never grow up!" said Phyllis protestingly; but she ceased to +be a slave to duty immediately, and sat on the arm of his chair until +he pulled her down on his lap, which he did almost on the spot. + +Meanwhile Joy, walking up and down in the garden paths and +memorizing her part, had been found by John, who was trying to lure +her off for a ride. + +"Nobody can find us on a galloping car," he said persuasively. + +But Joy was more steadfast than Phyllis. + +"I expect Tiddy over to rehearse with me," she said. "He will be +here in about five minutes. You know that 'Good morrow, good mother' +thing that he has to do prancing in and playing on a pipe. And none +of us can make out what a pipe is. Tiddy says if there's no further +light on it by next rehearsal he's going to use a meerschaum." + +"You might let me rehearse with you," grumbled John. "Every time I +come near I find you dancing hand-in-hand with Tiddy or Clarence or +Mrs. Beeson" (Mrs. Beeson was the gigantic Fairy Queen) "or sewing +on some wild thing for some seminary child." + +"Some of those seminary children are only a year younger than I am," +she reminded him. "But if you would like to rehearse your part with +me you'll have to go find Allan. All your scenes are with him." + +"Allan has a well-trained wife and a lock on his door," said John, +who didn't in the least need to rehearse. "I have neither. Mother +has made our house a happy hunting-ground, and at this moment Gail +and Tiddy and Clarence are putting the Chorus of Peers through its +paces. They aren't properly hand-picked. One of 'em squeaks." + +"They had to pick him, because he was so grand and tall," Joy +explained. "He isn't supposed to sing. I suppose he got carried away." + +"Suppose you get carried away," coaxed John, returning to the charge. + +"Now, John, you know the thing is to be given in a week," remonstrated +Joy. "And I have heaps to learn, and any amount more to sew." + +"Nevertheless--" said John, and suddenly laughed and tried to pick +her up. He was very strong, and she was light and little, but she +resisted valiantly. They were laughing and struggling like a couple +of children, when they heard footsteps, and shamefacedly composed +themselves to look very civilized. The choruses were all over the +village at all times of the day and night after study hours, and +John specially had to look after his decorum in their presence. But +it was only Philip. + +"Seems to me it would be pleasanter," he remarked without preface, +"if Angela and I had parts in this play. Angela thinks so, too." + +"Where is Angela?" asked Joy idly. + +"I put her up a tree," said Philip. "She's playing she's a little +birdie. You haven't got any candy that we could play was worms, have +you, Johnny?" he finished insinuatingly. + +But John and Joy had heard a wail in the direction whence Philip had +come, and neither of them stopped to reply. Angela alone and up a +tree was a picture that had appalling possibilities, and she was +certainly crying as if the worst of them had happened. + +The wails seemed to come from the little pleasance where the +fountain was, and Joy, as she ran, had a vision of a tree which +Philip did climb with a ladder, and which he was quite capable of +making Angela climb, too. The drop from his favorite limb was quite +six feet. + +Joy reached the pleasance first. It was Angela who was shrieking, +but the worst had not quite happened. She had wriggled herself out +of the safe crotch where Philip had put her, and it was Heaven's +mercy that she had not fallen. But her frock was a stout blue +gingham, fortunately, and a projecting branch-stump was thrust +through it, holding her in a horizontal position along the bough. +She was crying and wriggling, and in another minute or so she might +have fallen to the ground. There was a slight chance that she would +have struck on the fountain. + +Joy was up the ladder and had the child in her arms in a moment. She +held her till John, reaching up from below, relieved her of the +burden, and set Angela on the grass, where she continued to cry. + +"Such a lot of crying about just a little hole in your frock!" +remarked Philip to Angela. "I should think you'd be ashamed!" + +At which Angela stopped crying. + +"_Big_ hole!" she said defensively, with a gulped-down sob, and +began smoothing it down, where she sat on the grass. + +"Angela, Angela! Oh, Angela, is my baby hurt?" cried Phyllis, flying +in from the garden path outside. She had heard the child cry, from +where she and Allan were in the living-room, and with a mother's +instinct had fled out and down to where the child was. Allan was +hurrying behind her, but before he could catch her she had caught +her foot on the root that stood out of the ground in a loop, and +fallen headlong, striking her head on the edge of the marble basin. + +She lay, white and still, where she had fallen. Allan was at her +side in a moment, begging her to speak to him. + +"Is she dead, John?" he demanded passionately of John, kneeling +beside her. "Good God, man, can't you speak--is she dead?" + +"She's stunned," John answered. "I think that's all." + +"Her heart is beating," said her husband, with his hand on it. "I--I +think it is. Oh, Phyllis, darling, won't you speak to me?" + +Joy put her hand quietly on his shoulder. + +"Allan," she said, "John can't do anything as long as you won't let +him get near Phyllis. He can help quicker than you can." + +Allan shivered a little, then raised Phyllis so that her head rested +on his knee, and John could get at her. + +"Do something quickly, John," he said. "I shall go crazy if she lies +that way much longer. It's the first time I ever asked her for +anything that she didn't give it to me--" his throat caught. + +"She'll be all right in a minute, old fellow. Don't take it that +way," John reassured him. "Joy, dear, run to the house and get some +brandy and spirits of ammonia, and a spoon. Hurry." + +Joy sped back to the house, and got the things from Lily-Anna, who +unlocked and found with quick, capable hands, though she was +evidently trying not to cry as she did it. + +"Jus' a natural-born angel," she said. "Here, hurry back, Miss Joy. +Yas, that kind's too good to live. I might a' knowed it long ago. +There's everything, child. Now go on!" + +It had seemed forever to Joy, but John assured her that she had been +very swift. They forced a little of the stimulant through Phyllis' +teeth, and presently her color began to come back. + +"There, she's coming round, Allan," said John. "You see there was no +need to be so worried." + +"It wasn't you," said Allan briefly, then straightway forgot +everything else, as Phyllis' eyes opened. + +"I'm dizzy," she said faintly. Then she saw Allan's face over hers, +and farther away the others, grave and anxious, and she smiled. +"Why, Allan, you poor boy, I've worried you to death. I'm--sorry--dear." + +Her breath came a little hard for a moment, for it had been a bad +fall; but she was nearly all right again in a few minutes more, and +laughing. + +"Allan, if you don't stop looking as if the world had come to an +end, I shall faint again, whether I want to or not," she said. "You +foolish man, didn't you ever see anything like that before?" + +"The world nearly did come to an end," said Allan in a low voice. + +She made no answer to this in words, but Joy saw her catch Allan's +hand and hold it hard for a moment before the men helped her to rise +to her feet. She was perfectly able to walk, she declared, after +standing a moment and recovering from the dizziness that came over +her for a moment when she got up. She went back to the house with +Allan's arm around her, and the children, whom nobody had as yet +taken time to scold, following, awestruck and very meek, at a safe +distance behind. + +"He _did_ act as if the world had come to an end," mused Joy +aloud. "I was frightened for a minute, though." + +"You didn't show it. You were very brave and clear-headed," John +told her comfortingly.... "I don't know that I'd have behaved very +differently in his place. As he said, it wasn't I." + +"Oh, was that what he meant?" said Joy. "I didn't quite know." + +"Thank heaven it wasn't!" said John. + + + + + + +CHAPTER FOURTEEN + +THE SLIGHTLY SURPRISING CLARENCE + +Phyllis was perfectly all right the next day. She stayed in the +hammock because Allan made her, and she confessed to a shadow of a +headache, but altogether, she said, her accident was worth much less +fuss than was made over it. The rehearsals swept relentlessly on, +past all stemming. Clarence was getting thinner under the strain, +which was very becoming, and pleased him exceedingly. + +Joy, too, was a little affected by the current of things. In all +Clarence's off moments he was either with her or trying to be, and +she could not at all make him out. If he had been anybody else she +would have thought he was very much in earnest about trying to make +her marry him. But, then, John, when she came to think of it, could +have been described the same way. A bit of Gail's careless wisdom, +dropped one day at rehearsal, gave her a clue to things. Gail had +been stating to one of the teachers, who played _Fleta_, one of +the leaders of the chorus, that she'd had four proposals that +summer. Gail's attitude of cynical frankness about her desire to +collect scalps was something to make the average person gasp. She +really meant it. She was, as Joy had discovered by this time, quite +without malice--also quite without considerateness. + +"It isn't difficult," said Gail to the stiffening teacher. +"Competition is the soul of trade. If I can give the poor souls an +idea that other men want me--quite flaunt them, you know--they all +come bounding up to want me, too. It's very cheering, don't you +think, to have a faithful hound or so about?" + +Fortunately the teacher was called away by the exigencies of her +part, just at that moment. Joy, who was not easily shocked by Gail, +having spent nearly four weeks in her immediate vicinity now, +lingered. She had an inquiring mind. + +"Do you think that really is true, Gail, or were you just trying to +shock Miss Archinard?" she asked. + +Gail laughed, her peculiar short, low laugh, that, like everything +she said and did, had something a little mocking in it. It was +curiously at variance with her boyishness. You could not say she was +masculine, but there was a something stripped away from her which +most people class as feminineness. Joy wondered if it was softness +she missed--pity, perhaps, or tenderness. She was, at least, brilliant +to the last degree when she talked, though it was a perfectly useless +brilliance. Gail's life had no other end than amusing herself with +whatever persons or things came her way. If they could be laughed +at or employed in her service that was all she wanted. + +"Shocking Miss Archinard is a pathetic sort of performance," said +Gail. "Any child can do it. You doubtless do yourself. Joy, she +probably thinks your coloring too vivid for ladylikeness. Why, I'm +perfectly willing to shock her--it's more interesting than talking +to her as an equal--but I merely told the truth. You never in the +world would have robbed me of the faithful Tiddy who now crawls at +your feet, if he hadn't seen John and Clarence running frantically +in your direction." + +That principle, it dawned on Joy, could be extended. Probably John +and Clarence kept each other interested. There was a great deal to +learn about men, but on the other hand, there seemed to be a few +broad elementary rules to follow--if you were the kind of person who +could be cold-blooded enough to follow them. + +"But don't you ever feel badly when you think how they get hurt?" +she asked Gail a little timidly. + +"Everybody gets hurt once or twice that way," said Gail placidly. "I +might as well have the satisfaction of doing it as some other girl." +She looked reflectively across at her week-end man, who was just now +wrestling with his solo, and obviously wanted to get back to her. +"Besides--if you don't hurt _you_ get hurt.... Oh, I was a +good, sweet, unselfish, considerate young thing once. I wasted much +valuable time trying to be as nice as I could be.... Then _I_ +got hurt, and I decided that there wasn't anything in this +consideration game. People seem to like me just as well now I'm +perfectly selfish as they did when I wasn't." + +She laughed a little again, and lifted an eyebrow imperceptibly +toward Private Willis, who promptly lost a bar of his solo. + +It was a difficult statement to correct without being rude. Joy let +it go. For the first time in her acquaintance with Gail she had the +key. She felt sorry for Gail for a moment--for that far-off childish +Gail who had been so badly hurt that she hadn't ever dared let +herself feel again. She did not know such a great deal about living +herself, but she felt that Gail was wrong--that it was better to let +things come to you and hurt you, if they would, and go on living, +being a complete human being, no matter what happened to you. + +Then Gail spoke again, and Joy discovered that it was difficult to +go on being sorry for her--for the present her, that is. + +"When you go back to your well-known grandparents," she stated with +a frankness which had ceased to mislead Joy, "I shall make a final +effort to ensnare John. He doesn't approve of me, but that will make +life still more exciting. You don't mind, my child, do you?" + +Joy laughed. + +"You may have him--if you can get him!" she answered very gallantly +considering the circumstances. + +What Gail said showed her something with a certainty which had been +lacking before. John had never belonged to Gail. If Joy herself +hadn't been so entirely in love with John she might have been made +surer of him. But it is very hard to be positive of getting anything +you want too intensely. + +As she rested silent a moment John himself came up beside her. + +"Tired, kiddie?" he said with the affectionate note in his voice +that he always had when he used the little name he had for her. "You +should have farmed out that sewing." + +"Do you mean to say you took a bundle of those gauze frocks to do, +Joy?" demanded Gail. + +Joy nodded. Gail made her feel, as usual, as if she had been silly +and imposed upon. The seminary girls were crowding their time as it +was to get in the rehearsals, and the Principal had stated with +finality that it would be impossible to give them time extra to work +on their costumes. The mothers of some of them had been written home +to and had responded, but some others of the girls had no one who +could or would do the sewing, so Joy had volunteered, together with +Phyllis, to run up the five or six of them that had to be done. She +_was_ a little tired. + +"I shall come over tomorrow morning and hide them," John threatened. +But he smiled approvingly at her as he said it, and she knew that he +liked her having done it. She knew well enough the long hours he +spent with his charity patients, and all the things he did for the +people in the village--things he never spoke of. + +She thought with a pang that was not a selfish one of John's lot, if +he did finally marry Gail. She did not think he could be happy with +a girl who would never try to make him so. His mother's affection +for him was irresponsible enough, but it was very real and selfless. +You couldn't imagine Gail married to John. + +"It'll be too late to hide them," she answered him brightly, coming +out of her muse with an effort. "They're all done. There wasn't much +work on them, comparatively." + + _"Good morrow, good mother, + Good mother, good morrow! + By some means or other, + Pray banish your sorrow!"_ + +sang Tiddy, frisking gently up to her. "It's our turn next, Joy. +Clarence says he thinks we ought to emigrate in a body to the Opry +House, and go through this thing _right_." + +John moaned. + +"Clarence is always having unnecessary thoughts of that sort. To +hear him talk, you would think we had spent the last two weeks going +through it wrong." + +"So we have," said Clarence. "Come now--all out. We are going over +to rehearse on the august boards of the opera house, and then we are +going home for brief bites, and then we are going back for a dress +rehearsal. Tomorrow night is the night, and may the Lord have mercy +on your souls!" + +At this reminder Clarence's weary company bestirred itself. The +principals had been rehearsing, as usual, at the Hewitt house. They +were to meet the chorus, it appeared, at the village opera house, +and go through the whole thing there with the orchestra of tomorrow +night; a kind-hearted orchestra which was willing to rehearse twice. + +"Why any of us ever began this thing, I _don't_ see," growled +John, as he deftly captured Joy, having made a neat flank movement +which prevented Clarence from getting her. "Do you know, Joy"--he +was putting her cloak on for her in the hall by this time--"I've +seen about half as much of you as I would if I hadn't been lured +into this. The rest of this week, after tomorrow night, you are +going to have to spend exclusively in spoiling me. I'm twice as +deserving as a high-school girl, and three times as deserving as +Clarence and Tiddy. And I've more right to you, besides." + +"If you want rights, sometimes you have to take them," said Joy +demurely. + +He laughed. + +"Is that a suggestion? If so, it's an excellent one. Consider +yourself thoroughly taken. You are not to be discovered in corners +with Clarence, nor showing Tiddy how his steps should go." + +But Joy only laughed. + +There was little time for discussion after that. They rehearsed +steadily, with the frenzied feeling of unpreparedness that only +amateurs can fully know, till it was more than time for the "brief +bite" of Clarence's description. Then the choruses were shepherded +over to the Hewitt house and the Maddox house respectively, and fed, +Clarence and Tiddy standing over them to see that no time was wasted. + +Then they went back, and went through the whole opera. The audience +consisted of a few carefully chosen relatives who had insisted on +being there, including the Harrington children. Phyllis was letting +them see the dress rehearsal instead of the real performance, +because the latter was to end with a dance, and there would have +been some difficulty in tearing Philip away while things were still +going on. The dress rehearsal promised to be over by nine-thirty, +for they had started at six, and were sweeping through without a +break, happily unconscious that Clarence intended them to do it all +over again with all the mistakes severely corrected, as soon as they +had ended the final chorus. + +"Gail, that isn't the way to do it," Clarence called to her sharply, +as she danced in with the minimum of effort, in the "Good morrow, +good mother" song that she had with Joy and Tiddy, respectively +_Iolanthe_ and _Strephon_. "Pick up your feet. You'll be down +over that garland in the corner if you don't look out." + +"I'll pick them up tomorrow night," said Gail, pausing to answer +him. "No use putting all this work on rehearsal." + +She was undoubtedly right. And undoubtedly the garland had no +business to swing so loose, as Clarence himself afterwards admitted. + +But the fact remained. As Gail stepped reluctantly back, and +recommenced her song, her high-heeled slipper caught in the swinging +garland, and she came down flat, with the ankle badly turned under her. + +The opera stopped short while the others crowded around her and +tried to find out how badly she was hurt. She sat up straight and +tried to smile-Gail disliked having or showing feelings of any +sort--but she was white with the pain, and when she tried to stand +on the ankle it hurt her, as she admitted. + +They carried her off the stage in a chair, and John, who was donning +his robes in the other dressing-room, was hurried over to see how +badly she was hurt. + +"Don't stop for me, Clarence," Gail ordered. "On with the dance, let +Joy be unrefined. That is, if she can. I know you're hungering to +lash your wretched infant-school forward." + +Clarence remarked that she was plucky, patted her shoulder, and went +thankfully off to put his chorus through an evolution or so while he +could. + +John, meanwhile, with Phyllis' help, took off the pretty pink satin +slipper, with its rosette, and the pink silk stocking, and found +that Gail's ankle was badly sprained. They did it up properly, and +Phyllis took Gail home. + +"Now what shall we do?" demanded Clarence at the end of the act, +pushing the Lord Chancellor's wig to one side, and staring around him. + +"What about Gail's guest, the one that's coming down tomorrow?" +offered Tiddy. + +"We have her cast, anyway," Clarence answered dolefully. + +"She's played Celia, the one that's a sort of lieutenant-fairy, before, +and I remember the time I had getting her to memorize her words--not +a long part at all. She could no more play Phyllis than I can." + +"Were you talking about the part, or about me?"' asked Phyllis +Harrington, coming in again. + +"How is Gail?" asked everybody. + +"Ask John," said Phyllis. "Her ankle seems to be hurting her badly, +poor girl. I hope it will be all right tomorrow night. I made her go +to bed, and her mother is sworn to make her stay there. I'll go +through her part for her now, Clarence, if it will be any help." + +Clarence stared at her. + +"Can you?" he asked. + +"Well, I know the words," said Phyllis. "And I don't think she will +be able to rehearse again. It will be as much as she can do to get +up tomorrow night and go through it." + +John shook his head. "I'm afraid she won't be able to do even that," +he said. + +"Then you'll have to take the part, Phyllis!" said Clarence with a +sudden decision. "Never mind dressing now. Take your hat off and see +what you can do." + +"Understand, I'm only holding it," said Phyllis, but she would have +been more than human if she had not flushed a little with pleasure +at the idea. + +They began rehearsals again, and this time the opera went through +with scarcely a hitch. The little chorus girls had come to adore +Phyllis by this time, the boys were fond of her--there was scarcely +one of the cast whom she had not helped over or through or under +some one of the little hitches incident to private theatricals--and +the whole cast was on its tiptoes to see her through. There was a +new feeling in the thing, that Clarence noticed directly. + +"By Jove, we ought to have insisted on her doing it from the first," +he told Tiddy, his lieutenant, under his breath. "I could have +gotten twice as much work out of 'em.' + +"Who'd have broken the news to Cousin?" he wanted to know. + +Clarence eyed him with the detached interest that was his, and +meditated with a certain amusement on the changeableness of college +boys. Two weeks before Tiddy would have lowered his voice in +reverence at Gail's name. Then he glanced across at Joy, sitting +close by Phyllis in her gauzes, with her wonderful bronze-gold hair +hanging around her like a mantle, and conceded within himself that +it was not so surprising after all. + +Sure enough, Gail was unable to bear much weight on her foot by the +next day. She insisted on being dressed and driven down to the +hurried last rehearsal on the afternoon of the performance. But she +could not walk without support. + +"You'll have to take it, Phyllis," she conceded. "I shall look as +beautiful as I can, and sit in the audience and hate you." + +"You ought to," said Phyllis mournfully. "I know if it were I in +your place, I couldn't bear to come down and look at you." + +"I have to, anyway, on account of Laura," said Gail. Miss Ward had +come, and was at that moment getting out of her wraps preparatory to +meeting the cast and rehearsing. + +As Phyllis left her to go into the dressing-room and introduce the +stranger, whom she had met, to the others, she heard Joy cry out in +surprise. + +"Why, I know you--at least I've seen you, only you don't remember +me," Joy was saying impulsively. + +Laura Ward, in the act of slipping off her coat, stopped in surprise. + +"Why, I have seen _you_" she said. "Where was it?" + +"I was posing for the Morrows," explained Joy. "You ran in and got +some fixative. They had me for their mural decorations----" + +_"Joy!"_ called somebody in the tone of imperative need which +is almost as summoning as a telephone bell, and Joy dashed off, +holding up her green water-weeds with one hand and her draperies +with the other. The meeting with Laura Ward seemed a pleasant sort +of crowning to the day. She was the very same vivid, gipsy-looking +girl who had dashed into the Morrow studio for a moment, and who had +seemed to stand, to Joy then, for all the kinds of girl she had +wanted to be and couldn't. And now she seemed just a pleasant person +like oneself. Joy had caught up to her. It was like an omen. + +"What is it?" she called dutifully as she ran. + +She found no opportunity to see more of Miss Ward. She wanted to, +for she was sure she was going to like her. She had always wanted to. + +"It's a good audience," breathed Clarence over her shoulder, as they +looked through peep-holes in the curtain. "All the sisters and +cousins and aunts have turned up. I say, Joy, the Fairy Queen was +good for ten tickets at least. There's a row of her dear ones right +across from aisle to aisle." + +The moment of the play had come all too swiftly, and in ten +nerve-shattering minutes the curtain would go up. Ten minutes after +that Joy would be rising out of a trap-door, in the character of a +fairy who had spent the last twenty years at the bottom of a stream; +incidentally she would be acting for the first time in her life. +There was enough to be excited over; and yet it was none of these +things that excited her--it was the curious note in Clarence +Rutherford's voice as he spoke his trivial words in her ear. + +She moved away from him automatically. She was a little tired, +tonight, of his persistent flirtation. It was all very well for a +while, but surely--surely, she thought, it was time he'd had enough +of it; and she went back off the stage, looking, though she scarcely +acknowledged it to herself, for John. She felt as if she wanted to +see as much of him as she could. + +He ought to have been in his dressing-room, but he was not. He was +looking for her, she almost thought, for he came quickly toward her +with his face lighted. + +"I'm so glad I found you before the thing commenced, kiddie," he +said. "I just wanted to tell you that you're not to be frightened. +Do you hear? I forbid you to be frightened." He smiled down at her +protectingly. "You say you always do as I tell you--so you must this +time. I know you're going to make a howling success of the opera.... +My dear, _don't_ look so worried about it all!" + +They were in a little dim passage where no one was likely to come, +and he drew her close to him, and kept his arm around her. + +"Do I look worried?" she answered simply. "I wasn't thinking about +'Iolanthe' so much. I suppose I'm tired with rehearsals, for it +seems to me as if something I didn't like was going to happen.... +John, I never asked you before, but I feel so little and lonesome +tonight, and suddenly far away from everybody. Please say that you +haven't minded all the naughty things I've done--that you like me, +and forgive me, and----" + +"Like you and forgive you, foolish child! ... I don't know that I +like you...." He looked down at her, laughingly. "And I have nothing +to forgive you for. Why, Joy, it goes a great deal further than +that. I thought you knew how much I cared for you." + +She clung to him, there in her green and white draperies, with her +gold hair falling over them. She could scarcely believe the thing +his words and voice said, but it was there to believe. She gave a +little shiver and clung closer to him. + +"You--care?" + +"Of course I care!" + +He released her enough to lift up her flushed little face, and bend +down and kiss it. "You knew that a long time ago. Kiddie----" + +It was just then that the call-bell rang. + +She hurried to her place, her heart beating and her cheeks burning +under the rouge. She was nearly sure that she had won--that the +wishing ring had given her what she had asked of it. John had not +said, "You and I are lovers, and we are going to be married" in so +many words--but his voice--and his touch--and his laughing certainty---- + +She was very happy, so happy that she went through the opera in the +state of some one drugged to ecstasy. She sang and danced and +laughed, and helped Phyllis whenever she could in her difficult task +of assuming a leading part at one day's notice, and felt as if the +play had carried her into a veritable fairyland. Tiddy forgot half +of his lines, the first time he spoke with her, watching her +brilliant eyes and vividness, and she laughed and pulled him +through. She was like a flame throughout the performance. Phyllis +did wonders, considering the short time she had had in which to +prepare, and the performance generally was so good that even the +people who were in it were surprised. + +When it was safely over, and the dance was beginning--the dance was +taking place at the Hewitt house--Joy flung herself down for a +moment behind the curtains of the little alcove she knew so well by +now, and caught her breath. She was hiding a little. She still had a +curious reluctance to see Clarence again, and she felt as if she did +not want to see John, either, for a little while. Because the next +time she saw him she would probably know whether she was right or +wrong. She was nearly certain she was right, but there was a little +shivering possibility that she might not be. There was always Gail!... + +"Sorcerette, dear!" said Clarence's voice wooingly in the dim doorway. + +He had changed back to evening clothes, and looked very handsome, if +a little theatrical, for the black was not quite yet off his brows +and lashes. He, too, looked excited. + +"Come out and dance, Joy of my life," he said. + +"I'm--I'm waiting for John," she stammered. She still did not want +to go with him. + +"John's otherwise engaged," Clarence informed her coolly. "Did you +think Gail intended to go without one kind word the whole evening? +Not so! Come, or I'll think you mean to be highly impolite." + +The same reluctance still held Joy's feet, and she did not like the +insinuation, but there really seemed no way out. + +"Cheer up, Sorcerette, dear," he said in her ear, as he swept her +away. "'Get happy, chile, ain't you done got me?'" + +She did not talk. She did not feel like it. She merely danced +lightly on with Clarence, letting him say what he pleased. + +"Do you remember the first time we danced together, Joy, the first +time you ever danced with any one? I have always been so glad I was +the first man you ever danced with." + +"Why?" she asked absently. She wanted to get away, to get back to +John Hewitt. + +His arms tightened. + +"Why? You know perfectly well why. You have got me--do you know it? +From the very first minute I ever saw you." + +She smiled up at him, and shook her head. + +"You make love beautifully," she heard herself saying coolly. "But +you really shouldn't make it to your host's fiancee in his house. It +isn't done." + +"Don't you suppose I know that?" answered Clarence tempestuously. +"Joy Havenith, do you mean to say that you think I'm doing the +ordinary love-making one does in any conservatory?" + +She smiled a little. He was more like the Clarence she usually knew, +and she did not take it at all seriously. + +"Why, you do it better than most," she said. "Go on. I like it." + +If there was one thing she knew well, it was Clarence's love-making. +Indeed, she had come to the point where Clarence's remarks scarcely +constituted love-making at all in her eyes. They were merely his +kind of manners, and she was a little tired of them. + +"Good heavens! How on earth am I going to convince you?" she heard +him say, with a little surprise. This was not the kind of thing he +said ordinarily. "Joy, I fell in love with you, the real kind of +love, the first night I saw you. You've known it all along. I wish +you'd stop pretending not to--I'm getting tired of it. I want to +marry you--I'd marry you tonight if you said the word. I'll come +over and get you tomorrow and marry you if you'll let me. I don't +suppose you will. But I do expect to keep on at you till you do.... +Good heaven, child, haven't you seen I was in earnest?" he broke off +at the expression of her wide-open eyes. + +Joy believed in love at first sight, as she had every personal +reason to, but in spite of Clarence's intensity she was not quite +convinced. She looked up at him. He was white, and his mouth was +tense. And he was holding her like a vise. He was in earnest. + +"Maybe--maybe you think you do mean it now." she said breathlessly. +"If you do--I'm sorry for you. It isn't nice to be in love unless +the other person is, too." + +"What do you know about it?" he burst out angrily. "You aren't in +love with that virtuous citizen of yours, whether or not he is with +you. Let him go back to Gail. She's been considering one of her tame +cats for a year, and she'd about decided to marry him when you came +along and broke it up. You'd sweep any man off his feet. You and I +belong together, Joy darling. I'm going to marry you, if you were +engaged to the whole College of Surgeons." + +"The dance is over," said Joy a little faintly. + +"Then come over here where it's quiet. I haven't finished." + +"Oh, please no--" cried Joy, freeing herself from his hold eagerly. +This was getting unexpectedly like earnest, and it had been a shock. +She did not want to hear any more about how Clarence felt. + +She hurried across the floor without waiting for him, to where Allan +and Phyllis were still standing together. They had stolen a dance +with each other--they danced together altogether too much for +married people, anyway, Mrs. Hewitt said. + +The atmosphere of happiness and serenity that was about Phyllis was +something Joy could always rest in thankfully. Her own moods +alternated so that Phyllis' calmness was an especial comfort. + +"I--I'm so tired," she said wistfully. "Couldn't we go soon?" + +"I should think we could," said Phyllis willingly, while Allan +seconded the motion with joy. + +"There's no place like home," he said. "I've been considering the +fact that it was getting on for four, and that I have an appointment +at ten tomorrow, for a half-hour. Go get your wraps, Phyllis, my +darling, and I'll get John, as my share of the bargain. We'll be +awaiting you happily in a dark corner of the porch." + +Joy wanted to flee from Clarence. And she looked forward happily to +being with John on the back seat of the motor, and talking over the +evening with him. She would learn, perhaps, just what he had meant +when he had seen her last. Her heart beat hard with the excitement +of the thought. She was nearly sure--dear wishing ring! + +She slipped off, after speaking to Mrs. Hewitt, and saw Allan and +John moving off together to the men's cloak-room. + +She sang softly to herself as she put on her cloak. She would be +with John again in a moment. He had smiled at her as he passed out +of sight. What were Clarences and such small things? This was a +wonderful world. + +She and Phyllis came down the stairs together as unobtrusively as +they could, so as not to betray to the rest that they were going. +She had forgotten about Gail. + +But Gail was the first thing she saw--half-lying on a couch in a +dark corner of the hall, holding court with Laura Ward. There were +two or three men around them, and they were laughing and talking +together. Joy waved her hand as they passed, and Gail looked up from +her laughter. + +"Farewell, my dears, until tomorrow! Good-by, Joy. It was a well-done +opera, even if I was sitting in the audience being fiendishly jealous.... +Oh, I forgot to tell you that I have learned your dark secret, my child! +I think you're the most ingenious little wretch that ever lived. Till +tomorrow! I'm going to give a tea--be prepared!" + +She looked at Laura Ward and laughed again. + + + + + + +CHAPTER FIFTEEN + +THE GIFT OF THE RING + +Joy had no idea in the world how she got into the car. John's +guiding hand on her arm probably was all that saved her from +stumbling into the hedge, or trying to walk up a tree, she thought +afterwards. She was on the back seat, finally, with John by her. She +laid her head back with a little tired half-moan, and felt John's +strong, comforting arm drawing her over so that she could rest +against his shoulder. + +"You poor little girl, you're all worn out," she heard him say +tenderly. "But I was proud of you, little Joy. I didn't know what a +wonderful person I had found.... Little fairy princess!" + +Ten minutes earlier the note of affection and pride in his voice +would have made Joy so deliriously happy that she wouldn't have +known what to do. But ... Gail knew ... Gail knew all about it +all! ... How could men! And she had said she was going to give a tea. +That probably meant that she was going to tell everybody everything, +and laugh about it. + +She _was_ tired, and the shock of Gail's words had taken all +the capacity for action out of her. She knew that if she'd had any +proper feelings she would have moved coldly away from John, and +accused him of betraying her to Gail, and demanded why he had done +it. Evidently she had no proper feelings. You can't have, if you +love people hard. She merely lay against John's strong, broad +shoulder that felt so alive and comforting, and thought that this +was the last time she would ever lean against it, or feel, as she +always did when he touched her, as if there was some one who would +look after her, and stand between her and every one else. She could +not talk. + +When they reached the Harrington house Allan took the car around to +the garage at the back, himself, and Phyllis said she would stay in +the car with him while he locked the garage. The men began to tease +her for the idea she had offered, but Joy, hearing Phyllis +laughingly defend herself, and explain what she really meant, knew +that it was Phyllis' way of giving John a chance to say good-night +to her alone. + +"Dear Phyllis!" she thought, with a gush of gratitude in her heart +that there was one person in the world so unfailingly thoughtful and +honest and dependable. The world did not quite go down in ruins +while Phyllis stood her friend. + +"Dear Phyllis!" she heard John's gay voice say, as if in echo of her +own thoughts. "She knew I'd want a chance to see you alone a +minute.... What an awful amount of people too many there are in the +world, aren't there, kiddie? I'm beginning to think with yearning of +Crusoe's isle, and a barbed-wire fence around that." + +He drew her into the shadow of the vines on the porch, and took her +in his arms. ... And he had told Gail ... oh, how _could_ men? + +For a moment she stood, passive. Then the nearness of him, and the +cruel last-timeness of it all, swept over her again, and she threw +her arms around his neck convulsively, and kissed him over and over +again. She wanted it to remember. + +"Good-by, my dearest!" she whispered. + +"Not good-by, dear--good-night!" he answered her. "It's a long time +till tomorrow, but thank goodness, it's coming. And all the +tomorrows after that." + +"No--" she started to say, when she heard footsteps, and John +released her. + +"It's a very dark night," said Allan sadly. "I couldn't see my best +friend, even if he were on my own porch. Coming in, John?" + +"Allan, you have the tact of Talleyrand, or whoever it was they used +to kick," responded John amiably. "No, I can't come in. It's at +least four o'clock, and I have to be up at seven tomorrow. I'll drop +in some time in the morning--you won't have a chance to miss me." + +He said good-night to them all, and went down from the porch. They +could hear him whistling "With Strephon for Your Foe" joyously down +the path, and, more dimly, down the road that led to his house. + +"There goes, I should say, a fairly happy man," remarked Allan to +the world at large. "Now, Joy, if any one asked you, what would you +say made him so contented with life?" + +Joy liked Allan's brotherly teasing as a rule, but tonight it seemed +as if she could not answer him, or anybody. She did, not feel as if +she could talk any more, and looked appealingly at Phyllis. + +"She's dead to the world, Allan," Phyllis interposed. "And if we +stay down here talking those imps of ours are going to wake up and +demand tribute." + +"Great Scott, they are!" said Allan, "and the buns and stuff you +held Mrs. Hewitt up for are in the bottom of the car, locked up in +the garage--where _you_ wanted to be." + +"Which is providential," said the children's mother thankfully. +"It's an alibi. They can't get any till tomorrow, no matter how much +we want to give them any." + +So they tiptoed up the stairs. Joy turned off into her own room, but +she heard enough to know that no soft-footedness had availed. She +heard Philip's clear, deliberate little voice demanding, "How much +party did you bring me home, Mother?" and the hopeful patter of +Angela's feet. + +She shut her door tight before she knew how it turned out. She had a +good deal to do, because she was going to have to take a train that +got her away from Wallraven before John found time from his rounds +to come back next morning. Gail might have told Mrs. Hewitt--any +number of people--by this time. She did not want to see any of them +again. And she loved them all very much. + +She took off her frock with slow, careful fingers, and put on a +kimono to pack in. Her trunk was against the wall. As she worked +steadily over the tissue-paper and hangers and things to be folded, +she thought she was beyond feeling anything at all, till she felt +something wet on her face, and found that she was crying silently, +without having known it in the least. + +The green and silver frock--the white top-coat--that had burrs on +it, where she had gotten out by the roadside to pick some goldenrod, +and John had not gotten them all quite off--the little blue dress +with the fichu that John had said made her look as if she belonged +in a house instead of a story-book--the gray silk she had loved so, +and worn so hard it was middle-age-looking already--the brown wool +jersey suit she must travel in---- + +She laid this last across a chair, and tried to go on packing. That +was the frock she had worn when John came to her in the woods, and +was so kind, and so good, and told her he would let her have her +happy month.... Well, she'd had it. And it was worth it--it was +worth anything! + +But she put her head down on the side of the trunk and sobbed and +sobbed. + +Presently she went on with her packing, and finished it by a little +after four-thirty. The suitcase had to be filled. When it was done +she took a bath and dressed, and lay down on the bed as she was. +There was a train at nine-ten, that got her back home late in the +afternoon, and she was taking no chances. + +She slept a little, always with the nine-ten train on her mind, and +finally rose and locked her trunk at half-past seven. She put the +key and her ticket and what money she had in her hand-bag, fastened +on her cap, took her suitcase, and stole downstairs. Nobody was +astir yet but Lily-Anna, and Viola, who was giving the early-waking +Angela her breakfast in an informal way in the corner of the +kitchen. + +"Could I have a cup of coffee in a little while now, Lily-Anna?" she +asked the cook, who was making beaten biscuit in an echoing fashion +that would have penetrated any but the thick hundred-year-old walls +of the kitchen. + +"Why, Miss Joy--you goin' off on a ride with Dr. Johnny this early?" +inquired Lily-Anna, thinking the natural thing. "Course you can. +I'll make it right now. An' I'll tell Mis' Harrington." + +Joy had forgotten Phyllis in her wild desire for flight. But she +remembered now. She would have to call Phyllis and tell her. Indeed, +she would rather tell her herself than have Gail know. She couldn't +go off this way, as if she was taking the silver with her. + +She retraced her steps up the stairs, opened the door of Phyllis' +room softly. Phyllis' bed was near the door, and she sat up at the +slight noise. Joy beckoned to her, and she slipped out of bed, +flinging around her a blue kimono that lay across the footboard and +setting her feet noiselessly in slippers as she came out with the +swift, gliding step that was characteristic of her. She gathered +back the loose masses of her amber-colored hair and flung them over +her shoulder, shut the door softly in order not to disturb Allan, +and followed Joy down the hall. + +"What is it, dear?" she asked. "Telephone at this unchristian hour?" + +"I'm sorry to disturb you," Joy answered, "but I had to. Where can +we go where I can talk to you for half an hour--or maybe ten minutes?" + +There was a glowing fire in the living-room, and, of old custom, a +long couch stood before it. Phyllis led the way downstairs to this, +and established Joy on it, drawing a chair up to it herself. + +"Now tell me all about it," she said comfortingly. "And lie down, +child--you look dead." + +But Joy was too nervous to lie down. + +"I have to go away on the nine-ten," she said.... "No, please, +Phyllis, wait till I tell you, and you'll see I do. You would, too." + +Phyllis always took the least nerve-wearing way--you could count on +her for that. She listened encouragingly. + +"Gail said last night she--she knew my dark secret." Joy began +nervously in the middle. "And you know Gail does tell anything about +anybody she wants to, especially if she thinks it makes a funny +story,--sometimes I think perhaps she likes making people +ridiculous.... She doesn't care about feelings...." + +"Why, you poor child, have you a dark secret?" asked Phyllis, +smiling. "Let me hear the worst. I promise to love you still." + +"Oh _please_ do!" implored Joy. She dropped her head on the +couch cushions and talked with her face hidden on one arm. "Phyllis, +I--I never was engaged to John!" + +The bombshell did not at all have the effect she had expected. + +"I'm sorry to contradict you, but you certainly are," said Phyllis +placidly. + +"You don't understand," went on Joy, coming out from her shelter. +"Listen." + +So she told Phyllis, with both her quivering little hands locked in +one of Phyllis' strong, firm ones, the whole story--the story of the +shut up, youthless life among the people who came to give her +grandfather homage, and regarded her as a plaything or a +stage-property, and of how she had seen the two young lovers one wet +day, and been stirred into a wild rebellion for a youth of her own. + +"I understand," said Phyllis here. "You were 'half-sick of shadows.' +I went through that myself. There comes a time when you'd do +_anything_." + +"You understand?" asked Joy with wide eyes, "you with a husband that +adores the ground you walk on?" + +"I do understand," affirmed Phyllis, with her mind flying back for a +moment to a gray February day in a Philadelphia library--a day that +was eight years old now. "I think I can understand anything you are +going to tell me." + +But Joy went on to the day when she had hidden on the stairs to get +away from the people, and John had come in, with the light glinting +on his hair, and catching in the ring on his finger. + +"I suppose I fell in love with him then, though I didn't know what +it was," Joy confessed. "And when I met you and Philip and Allan I +loved you all so, too, and it seemed so queer you liked me--just me, +you know, not somebody's granddaughter that he used for trimmings!" + +"Who wouldn't?" said Phyllis matter-of-factly. "So far as I can see, +most people are crazy over you." + +"And Grandfather wouldn't let me go unless I'd been engaged--or he +said that was the only reason--he thought I couldn't be, of course. +And--and it flew out. And I used John's name when he cornered me, +because I remembered him, and how kind he'd been. And on top of +that----" + +"And on top of that John turned up! Good gracious!" said Phyllis. +She could not help a little laugh but her face sobered swiftly. +"_Think_ of that man's cleverness and self-control! Why--why, +Joy, no man would do all that unless he cared for you a little, +anyhow." + +"John would," said Joy with conviction. "You know how he is about +honor and courtesy and doing things for people." + +Phyllis nodded. That was an incontrovertible fact. + +"And he's told Gail," Joy went on. "That's the only secret I ever +had in my life, so it _must_ be that. So I'm going to run away. +I simply can't stay and..." + +"Told Gail! Ridiculous!" cried Phyllis. "Unless ... unless----" + +"Unless there was some understanding between them before and John +was simply overchivalrous when he helped me," Joy finished steadily. +"Yes, that's the only answer.... I'm going. Please don't forget me." + +"You foolish child!" + +"There's another reason," Joy added. "Clarence proposed last night. +I'd be almost sure to say 'yes' to save my face about the other +thing, if I stayed, and I might have to marry him if I did.... Queer +that Clarence, that I and everybody knew was just a plain flirt, +should really want to, and John not!" she added absently. "Good-by." + +She was off the couch and had hurried out of doors, where Phyllis, +half-clad as she was, could not follow her. + +Phyllis rose and went to the door, but the little slim brown figure +was already going swiftly toward the station, her suitcase swinging +in her hand. + +It occurred to Phyllis as she walked over to the telephone that +usually crises found her clad in a blue negligee of some sort. Then +she got Dr. Hewitt's number. + +"Is that you, John Hewitt?" she called. "Come over to this house +this moment! ... Yes, something serious _has_ happened. And +don't ask for Allan--ask for me. I'll be on the porch waiting for +you if I can. If not, stay there and wait for me. This is +private--and--yes, about Joy! Come!" + +Joy got the train with a desolately long interval of waiting at the +station. It was a day-coach. She had all the time in the world to +think things out. Her grandparents were back in the city house, she +knew. They would be glad to see her in their different ways, she +knew that, too. She could drop into her niche noiselessly, with +scarcely a question from Grandfather, and all the lovingness in the +world from Grandmother, except if Grandfather needed attention. The +old gowns were still in her closet.... _When she got home it would +be reception day!_ + +As this recollection forced itself on her she felt her heart sink +lower than it had been before. All the tormenting memories in the +world--and Grandfather would make her dress and be there.... + +She clasped her hands involuntarily, and felt on the left one the +pressure of the wishing ring. She had meant to take it off and leave +it with Phyllis, and she had forgotten to. + +"There isn't much left to wish," she thought. She clasped her hands +tighter over it. "Nothing much--but to get to sleep for a little +while, and dream it isn't so. I--I suppose I can do that without a +wish." + +She tried very hard, and she had only had about three hours of sleep +that night, not to speak of a most exciting evening before it. She +really thought in her heart that she couldn't sleep, but she laid +her head back against the hot red velvet of the seat, and actually +did sleep dangerously near the time to change cars. She got a +chair-car after that, but, having got into the way of it, drowsed +again. She woke up from a dream that John was coming down the aisle, +only Gail was somewhere outside with a rope around his arms, and was +going to pull him back in a minute, to find that she was at the +journey's end. She had only her suitcase to gather up. She had not +even asked Phyllis to send her trunk. Well, Phyllis would, anyway. + +The old house was just the same. She thought irrepressibly, as she +came slowly up the steps, about the little boy who ran away from +home, and when he came back after four hours, fidgeted a while, and +then said off-handedly, "Well, I see you have the same old cat!" She +knew exactly how that small boy had felt. + +"The same old cats!" she said half-aloud as three plump, +velvet-upholstered ladies ambled down the steps, and passed her +without knowing her. Then she checked her mind in its careering. "I +mustn't get Gailish, even if I am unhappy," she reminded herself. +"That's the sort of thing she'd say." + +Old Elizabeth was in the hall, in attendance, as usual. Joy flung her +arms round her impulsively and kissed her. It was good to see her again, +and to know that she didn't know any terrible things about her having +commandeered a lover that really belonged to somebody else. + +"Oh, Miss Joy, Miss Joy dear!" said old Elizabeth. "How good you got +here in time for the reception! And it's good to see you, too. Run +up and git into some pretty clothes like your grandpa likes, and go +right into the parlor." + +Joy smiled a little as she obeyed old Elizabeth. It seemed queer, +and yet natural, to come back and slip into her old place as a minor +figure in the old unbreakable routine. She had been a real person +with a major part to play, all these weeks at Wallraven.... But it +was rather a comfort, now, to feel that it didn't matter to anybody +what you did, as long as Grandfather was pleased. And she felt as if +she was willing to be a whole row of parlor bric-a-brac, she was so +meek and so tired and unhappy. + +It was the amber satin she had rebelled so against that she took out +of her suitcase deliberately and put on. It was tight across the +chest, and actually a little short for her--she had _grown_, +really grown in the active open-air weeks she had been away. She was +tanned, too, she found when the yellow dress was on, and there was a +freckle on the back of one little white hand. She braided her hair +in the old way and went down to the long parlors, back to the +autographed pictures and framed letters, and Grandfather, +benignantly great at the end of the room. + +Grandmother was very glad to see her. They snatched a minute in a +dark corner before they had to go on seeing guests. Joy found +herself going up and down the room saying courteous things to people +in just the old way. They were not surprised to see her. Perhaps +they had scarcely noticed that she had been away. + +"It's the same old cat--I've only been away three hours," she +reminded herself with a little rueful smile. Then she saw a +shy-looking couple over in the corner, and went over, to try to put +them at ease.... She wouldn't have thought about people being shy or +needing putting at ease before she went away!... + +"Something _has_ happened to me," thought Joy. Then she thought +what it was. Why, she was doing the way John would have done--thinking +about other people's feelings, not her own, for one minute. It felt +warm in her heart. She had that for a keepsake from John, anyway. + +But she found she was making a mistake to think about John. After a +half-hour of moving about the long parlors she fled. The little dark +place in the back hall was just the same. Six weeks, naturally, had +not altered it. + +She sat down on the bottom step in a little heap, with her face in +her hands, under Aunt Lucilla's triumphant picture. She remembered +it above her, but she did not want to look at it. + +"I wish you hadn't egged me on, Aunt Lucilla," she said most +unfairly from between her hands. + +She did not know how long she had sat there, when she heard a little +squeak, and looked up with her heart jumping. It sounded like the +squeak doors make that haven't been opened for--say--six weeks or +two months.... + +There in the ray of light from the chandelier in the room behind, +the light glinting on his fair curly hair, he stood as he had stood +before, the wishing-ring man. + +For a moment Joy thought she was seeing something that wasn't so. +Then she looked down. The ring was on her finger still, not on his. +And he was not a vision. He was a human man, a man she knew and +loved. And he did not smile at her this time, as the vision would +have done, in a quizzical, stranger-friendly fashion, and stand +still. He was over at her side in one swift step, and he had both +her hands tight, as if they belonged to him, and he was talking to +her in a loving, scolding voice, as people only talk to you when you +belong to them and they to you. + +"Joy! You very naughty little girl, to run away this way!" + +For a minute she only wanted to cling to his hands and tell him how +glad--how glad she was to see him, and how nothing else in the whole +beautiful world mattered at all. But she remembered she mustn't. + +"You told Gail. You might have known she'd shame me before everybody +if she could. She doesn't care.... Oh, John, how could you?" + +She held on to him hard for comfort even while she was reproaching him. + +He looked down at her in the half-light, then, as if he was fairly +content with what he saw in her face, closed the door behind him. +They could still see each other enough to talk. + +"Next time give me a little more benefit of the doubt, my dear. _I +never told Gail anything_!" + +When John told you anything it was so. That was all there was to +_that_. She gave a gasp of blessed relief. + +"But--" she protested. "But Gail knew----" + +He sat down on the step below her. + +"But Gail didn't know anything! Gail never will know anything. +Nobody ever will but you and I and Phyllis Harrington, who is much +safer than a church. But it did take a certain amount of diplomacy +to extract from Gail exactly what she said to you that frightened +you into another state--or rather what she meant by it." + +He was smiling now. Could it possibly be---- + +"I went to Gail as soon as Phyllis had called me up and had had it +out with me--which, I may add, she did rather severely," he went on +calmly, though he still held one hand as if he was afraid Joy would +vanish again. "And Gail said----" + +He stopped provokingly, and Joy held her breath. + +"Well, I won't torment you, though I am inclined to think you +deserve it. It appears that Gail had learned from that friend of +hers, Laura Ward, to whom she had spoken of you and your people, +that you posed as a model for a couple of artists, just before you +left this city, in order to earn money for gowns. The girl lived in +the same studio building with them ... their name was Morrow, I +think. She was under the impression that you were a professional +model till the Morrows explained, and you had struck her as such a +very good type that she remembered you and the whole episode. Gail +was teasing you about it, as she teases every one. She has a +provocative, half-mocking manner that she lets go too far sometimes. +I'm not inclined to forgive her for tormenting my little girl." + +Joy gave a long sigh of relief. + +"Then--you're not engaged to Gail?" + +He gave the hands he held a little half-impatient, half-loving shake. + +"Would I have asked you to marry me under those circumstances?" + +"You never asked me to marry you," said Joy in a subdued voice. She +felt as if the world were coming down around her ears. "I was a +trial fiancee, and a good deal of a trial at that, as you said. +And--you only did it to oblige me, and--and I'm very much obliged +and--and hadn't you better go?" + +If he stayed much longer---- + +His voice, that had been light, became more tender and more serious. + +"Joy, do you think I could see much of you without caring for you? +When I first met you I took you for a child, and there was so much +of the child about you afterwards that, when I yielded to an impulse +and helped you out of your dilemma I scarcely knew I was in love +with you. But it didn't take me long after that to find it out. And +my only fear was that you were going through it all in the same +childlike spirit, that you couldn't care for me. But when I asked +you if you belonged to me, and you said--do you remember? You always +were human--for me'--why--" his voice became happier again, for she +had not drawn away, "why, I thought I was asking you to marry me. +And I thought you were saying you would. But if you weren't.... +_Don't_ you care, Joy? _Aren't_ you mine? It doesn't seem as if +you could be any one else's." + +His voice broke. + +She bent down, where she sat above him. Her voice was very happy and +very tender. + +"But I always was, John. Always, from the first minute you opened +the door there, and looked at me, and spoke. I--I expect I always +shall be." + +Neither of them spoke for a while after that. Presently John held +her off and looked at her, and laughed a little. + +"Well, what?" demanded Joy peacefully. She didn't much care what, +but she wanted to know. "And Elizabeth sometimes brushes under these +stairs when receptions are over. She may find us." + +"I shall be delighted to meet Elizabeth," said John with his usual +calm. "But it merely occurred to me that it wasn't so much that you +belonged to me as that I belonged to you. I'm not sure that you're +entirely a human being yet. And I don't think I shall trust you any +longer with that wishing ring." + +She slipped it off very seriously and gave it to him. + +"I would only wish that you should have everything you wanted," she +said. "I did, you know." + +He slid it back on the finger it was so much too large for. "I'll +get you an honest-to-goodness one, too," he said. "But you'd better +keep it. I _have_ everything I wanted." + +He drew her head down and kissed her in demonstration of the fact. + +"But I do think it was the ring that did it," said little Joy. + +THE END + + + + + + + + + + +End of Project Gutenberg's The Wishing-Ring Man, by Margaret Widdemer + +*** END OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK THE WISHING-RING MAN *** + +***** This file should be named 7424.txt or 7424.zip ***** +This and all associated files of various formats will be found in: + http://www.gutenberg.org/7/4/2/7424/ + +Produced by Eric Eldred, David Garcia, 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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