User: Can you continue this poem for me?
  In front of the logs, sunk deep in his chair, dozed old Marmaduke
reconnoitering to discover the fact.
Marmaduke's eyes did that worthy awake.
"Help! Murder!" he sputtered through the gauntleted fingers that
covered his mouth, struggling in vain to free himself from the
detaining hands.
"Ay, sir, now you speak, I do know you," the innkeeper answered,
"That's just it! It's a man of my own size that I'm after."
"Well, then, the port let it be," answered the youth. "I judge my
Farquhart--you said was coming?"
"I--I was dreaming that I was caught in a trap, a--a mousetrap, I
"We've the house to ourselves, as I commanded, good Marmaduke?"
demanded Lord Farquhart.
"Why waken the lad if he sleeps?" demanded young Lindley, who had
"A friend," answered that worthy--"leastwise a friend of a year's
interfere with either? Sure, we're lacking in both ourselves."
"Well, let him sleep for aught of me," answered Farquhart,
"Oh, don't bother your conscience with a thing like that, my good
"Only her servants, I believe." Percy Farquhart's tone was quite
majesty's town. That was why he asked me to meet her here."
Gordon's daughter and her golden charms?"
He raised his wine cup high, glancing frankly at Lindley and at
Treadway, but passing hurriedly over Ashley's scornful lips and
A short silence fell after the toast had been drunk. The men had
ridden hard and were tired.
"I'm sorry we did not meet the Black Devil, or one of his imps,
"But he'd hardly attack a party as large as ours," cried Lindley.
"Have a care, my good Cecil," laughed Farquhart. "You mention the
majesty did have some part in the prank."
"I'd not heard that Lord Grimsby had been attacked by this
"Attacked!" the three men cried in chorus.
"And Lord Grimsby's power is absolute, is it not?" asked Ashley.
"As absolute as his majesty's command," agreed Treadway.
excitement and danger of the game of the road?" asked Lindley.
"Somewhat too dangerous an amusement, in spite of its profits,"
sneered Ashley.
mysteriously, the stolen wealth."
The four voices rose in chorus to the brown rafters of the inn.
Lips that vie with the poppy's hue,
Eyes that shame the violet's blue,
Hearts that beat with love so true,
Sylvia, sweet, I come to you!
Barb'ra, sweet, I come to you!
His eyes questioned Treadway.
And it was in the same tone that Lindley answered: "Let's wonder,
trespassed upon Lord Farquhart's privacy, slipped softly up the
stairs.
neighboring house."
yet--by Percy, I mean." The last words were added with a laugh at
"Ay, if love had a chance to mold," answered Ashley, with more
barnyard at that same time, when she was six and I was ten."
Hearts that beat with love so true!
Sylvia, sweet, I come to you!
Hearts that beat with love so true!
Barb'ra, sweet, I come to you!
Lindley, left to himself, drew a letter from some place not far
distant from his heart and read it.
I regret to say, my dear Cecil, that I can give you no better
word from my daughter, Judith. She declares roundly that she
will have nothing to do with you, that she will not listen to
your suit, and she commands me to advise you to put her out of
your head for all time. I cannot, as you know, say aught against
my girl.
"I should not let him if he would."
In her duty to me she is all that I could ask, but in every
other respect her madcap moods seem but to grow upon her. She
spends much of her time shut up in her own room, and I have
discovered quite recently that she rides much alone--through our
own forests only, however. I would not for the world convey to
you the idea that Judith is indiscreet. She has stripped from
the trappings of her horse every sign of our name and
station--or so the stable boys have reported to me. And not ten
days since one of the maids ran to me in a great pother and told
me that Mistress Judith was stamping about her chamber, behind
locked doors, conversing at the top of her voice with herself or
with the empty air. When I took her to task on the subject she
explained that she was merely rehearsing to join some play
actors she had seen performing on the common. Neither locks nor
bars will hold her, for I have tried both. I would not dare to
coerce her in any smallest degree, for I know not what might
happen. So I hope you will see, my dear Cecil, that it would be
indeed wise if you could take her advice and put her out of your
mind. I fear that, as she says, she has given me all the love of
which she is capable.
So far, dear coz, I've written according to my revered father's
words. You know I'm the only scholar in the family. The pen fits
his hand but sadly, while every implement of love and war rests
easily in mine. With the foils I---- But, alas and alack, you
care not for tales of that sort. I hear you say: "Fie, fie, Ju!
Why play with a man's toys?" To return to the subject in hand.
Will you put me quite out of your mind and thoughts? Can you? If
so, I pray you do so. For I love you not at all. 'Tis so absurd
of you to want to marry the little red-haired termagant you used
to play with. And believe me, I'm naught now save a big
red-haired termagant. And I love you not one whit more than I
did in the old days when I used to hate you. Perhaps 'twould be
folly to say that I never will love you. I might meet you
somewhere, at some odd chance, and find that you were the man
for my inmost heart. And at that same meeting you might find
that you loved me not at all. You think, doubtless, that I know
nothing of love, and yet I do know that it lies all in the
chance of meeting. If I might meet you in my mood of to-day I'd
hate you, whereas to-morrow I might love you. To defend myself
against my father's charges I'll not try. Yet why should I not
ride alone? And am I alone with my beloved Star? Ay, even though
it is only a black star between two starry eyes blacker than
night? Why should I not have stripped my father's name and rank
from my horse's trappings when I go abroad? Suppose I should
join the play actors--and they do tempt me sorely--why should my
father's name and rank be known and defamed? And, truly, I grant
you, I'm as likely to join the play actors as to enter a
nunnery, the one as the other and the other as the one. Both
draw me strangely, and I'm likelier to do either than to marry
you. Here's my hand and seal on that, or, rather, here's my hand
and a kiss, for a kiss is more binding than a seal. And now for
the last word--will you put me out of your mind? Or will you
wait for that chance meeting?
horse, he said, strayed from the woods where the lady had been
gathering wild flowers."
according to Lady Barbara's way of thinking, in spite of the fact
"Sylvia!" gasped her attendant dame.
The two maids clung to each other and scurried into an anguished
unconsciousness.
"A word in your ear, sweet cousin Babs," he whispered. "But first
"Only for _your_ eyes, my cousin," he answered. "Only for _your_
"What prank is this?" she demanded, haughtily, and yet she had,
In spite of old Mistress Benton's commands and prayers, the Lady
Hearts that beat with love so true!
Barb'ra, sweet, I come to you!
"Take off your mask, Percy, and lift your hat," she cried,
impulsively.
already."
The Jolly Grig was empty. The guests, all in the courtyard, were
"Here, here, not a hundred paces from the inn," screamed Mistress
"A dozen, man!" scoffed Barbara. Even her voice was slightly
tremulous. "There was one lone highwayman, a single highwayman in
"'Twas the Black Devil himself!" cried the chorus of men, who had
you--all, every one--ride with me to London."
Barbara's coach was stopped."
separated himself from them and rode away.
"Surely I heard your halloo"--the boy's hand drew his hood closer
"No, you're wrong. I'm no servant of Master James Ogilvie's."
"I might be servant to Mistress Judith," hazarded the lad.
household."
"Ah, that proves that you've not seen Mistress Judith Ogilvie." A
"Ay, my master, the horse had strayed while Mistress Judith was
"And thanking you for so much courtesy, add but one more favor,"
Lindley could see the careless shrug of the lad's shoulders as he
"Why, as I told you to-night, I'm servant to Miss Judith Ogilvie,
"Lover!" The word halted at Lindley's teeth, and his eyes rested
superciliously on the slouched figure beside him.
"I like not your manner, boy, neither your manner nor your
conversation." Lindley's anger expressed itself in his voice.
"Alas! I cannot change my manner so readily, my lord. But the
"Answer straight who and what you are," he cried. "I am cousin to
"Ah! A straight question always merits an answer,
"Yes, one of the play actors." The lad's words were simple, yet
something in his tone gave new offense.
The boy's laughter rang through the woods.
Suddenly the lad spoke.
"Nay, I've not seen the girl since we were children," admitted
Lindley, almost against his will.
Again the boy's laughter startled the woods.
"Ay, red it is. Red as a fox, and her eyes are red, too; red with
The boy seemed to hesitate.
"And I'm to meet you here, each night, at the edge of the Ogilvie
"Win her I will, boy," answered Lindley. "I'm not afraid of her
"My cousin, Mr. Lindley?" questioned Judith. Even to the maid she
All this, perhaps, will prove that the Lady Barbara knew more of
And yet, when the Lady Barbara called for her maid and while she
"When Mr. Ashley comes, I will see him. To anyone else say that I
"In my coat? In what coat?" demanded Lord Farquhart.
"Lord Farquhart returns these to me?" she cried in her amazement.
A quick gleam shone in Barbara's eyes. Her breath fluttered.
"Masqueraded!" she whispered.
"Oh, why, why do you say so?" she stammered.
"Why do you not admit it, then?" he asked again.
"To marry Lord Farquhart!" Mr. Ashley laughed aloud. "To marry a
assistance than Lord Farquhart has given us."
"No," she murmured, in a low, faint voice, her eyes still on the
Ashley's eyes questioned her, but his lips did not move. And she,
unsophisticated country girl, was versed in all the knowledge and
"Ay, I'd marry a common highwayman for the same gain." The Lady
Barbara's violet eyes were black with excitement. "But Lord
divertisement--a hunt, as it were, for men instead of beasts. In
truth, it almost makes me love Lord Farquhart to find he has such
absolutely at last, accepting his reward from the Lady Barbara's
pomegranate lips.
"I am glad to see that you are none the worse for last night's
encounter," he said.
Wondering why his voice rang strangely, she answered, gayly:
"Rather the better for it, I find myself, thank you."
should he force her?
understand. Her intended victim's indifference angered her beyond
fatigues."
As for Lord Farquhart, left alone in the boudoir, he was still
And then he hummed the last line of his song to Sylvia.
interview with her. But when her father had taxed her with her
"But she does not know," Lindley concluded the sentence.
"Well, and what do you think?" demanded Lindley.
"I--I was going to say"--the boy spoke slowly--"it seems to me
that--that Mistress Judith may already be in love."
"Ay, but maids--some maids--change their minds as easily as their
"What devil's work is the girl up to now?" he demanded, savagely.
Really love her as a lover ought to love?"
"I love her--I love her because I've loved her always," answered
Lindley's face had grown scarlet.
The lad, backing away from under Lindley's upraised arm, still
murmured, echoing Lindley's words: "Sacred things!" and added:
"Mistress Judith's heart! Her eyes! Her lips!"
cloaks. The foremost was tall and burly, though agile enough. The
But Johan's victory came not a second too soon, for just at that
"You're hurt, lad!" Lindley, faint from loss of blood, staggered
toward the boy.
Johan's head sank for an instant onto Lindley's shoulder.
"No, he did not touch me, 'tis no bodily hurt," he moaned; "but
I've--I've killed the man."
Lindley's support was withdrawn instantly and roughly.
fighting for the fun of it? You're squeamish as a woman."
Johan tried to recover his voice. He tried to stand erect.
"I did it well, did I not?" An unsteady laugh rang out. "The play
himself. "Would I gain applause as a woman, think you?"
Mistress Judith will----"
Here Johan's unsteady laugh rang out once more.
"'Twill be a wonder, I'm thinking myself," answered the boy,
unsteadily.
choice, but never again of necessity."
"Heaven grant that the necessity will never again be so great!"
murmured Johan, indistinctly.
"Hast heard the news, my master?" he cried, before he saw the
"Met with my Lord Farquhart!" cried honest Marmaduke. "But that's
"Lord Farquhart! In prison!"
himself, she said. She had seen him guised as the highwayman. Mr.
unconsciously, she exerted herself to win from him some sign of
approbation.
Also, in addition to her awakened interest in Lord Farquhart--or
possibly because of it--the Lady Barbara thought she saw in Mr.
Ashley's devotion some new, some curious, some quite displeasing
For six days these conditions had been changing, with all their
attendant incidents and chances, and the time was ripe for a
you'll find that you have neither rights nor favors."
It was at this instant that the Lady Barbara caught sight of Lord
praying for the discomfiture of the one or the other. But,
Jack Grimsby, toasting the Lady Barbara for the dozenth time,
exclaimed to his crony:
chatter that encompassed her, for others beside Jack Grimsby were
"My lords and ladies," she cried, her voice ringing even to the
Barbara's voice rang once more.
"I am positive that I speak only the truth," she cried. "No, Lord
And yet he spoke calmly.
"I beg your pardon, Lord Grimsby"--Lady Barbara was still
damask roses still blooming brilliantly, the stars still shining
brightly.
"Surely, my Lord Grimsby," clamored Ashley, "you will not let the
"We will most assuredly take all measures for safeholding my Lord
believe this tale!"
"I would like to see some reason for doubting the lady's word,"
"Why, the whole thing is the merest fabrication," cried Lord
Farquhart, impatiently. "It is all without reason, without sense,
impersonated him."
circumstantially as may be."
"I can vouch for it--I can vouch for it because I know he slept,"
"I fear me much that your reasoning will not help to save your
"A pretty tale," Jack Grimsby again interrupted, in spite of his
"Be that as it may"--Ashley's level voice ignored the tone of the
Ashley's face flushed, but he looked steadily at Lord Grimsby; he
"The rings and the rose my servant found in my coat," answered
"At first I was at a loss to account for them at all." Lord
There was a long silence, and then Lord Grimsby spoke.
believe that he was this highwayman.
Here Lord Farquhart caught a gleam of light. Ashley might have
Following fast upon this question was another flash of light even
As may be supposed, it was several nights before Lindley was
father.
The boy's manner was so changed, his tone was so forlorn, that
"And that has left you so disconsolate?" he asked.
"And when went Mistress Judith to London?" asked Lindley. "This
afternoon? This morning?"
"N--no. That is, I do not know," the boy made answer to the last
"Why, then, 'tis only that the scene will shift to London," cried
tryst--she--for our tryst, say at ten o'clock, in front of Master
But even Mistress Judith held not all of Lindley's thoughts that
highwayman was in league with the devil, if he was not the devil
London that night.
"Yes, a good friend and an honest man, if ever there was one,"
answered Lindley.
"Nay, I see no way," gloomed Lindley.
In the darkness Johan crept closer to Lindley.
Johan had drawn roughly away from Lindley's side. Now he leaned
against the gate, dejection in every line of his drooping figure.
"Oh, no, no, I must play this part," answered the player's boy,
"Why, I suppose I can gain access to him," answered Lindley.
savored of a command. They were uttered in the tone that expects
obedience, but Lindley ignored this.
"'Twould be but a waste of time," he answered, gloomily.
Without further word Lindley was left standing alone in the empty
impetuosity of the lad's voice and manner.
"Master Lindley, Master Lindley, are you not here? Are you not
waiting?"
"But is it not you, Johan?" he asked, with some hesitation.
"Nay, 'tis I, Lady Barbara Gordon," a girl's voice answered.
She advanced slowly, still hesitating, her manner pleading as her
Lindley hurriedly tried to reassure her. Yes, he said, he had the
All permits to see the prisoner had been revoked at sundown, the
fellow said. The prisoner's case had come before the court that
For an instant the Lady Barbara seemed about to fall forward. Her
could, but his own voice shook as he whispered once more:
"Courage, courage, my lady!"
Then his anger vented itself upon the guard.
"Ah, get me away from here, away from here--anywhere. I can walk,
Then she stood erect and turned away from the guarded door, but
Lindley still hesitated there.
"Ay, at ten o'clock, they said."
Then Lindley heard the Lady Barbara's voice.
"Yes, from Padusey, to-night," the guard answered once again.
Lord Farquhart's habitual pose of indifference, of insolent
condemn an absolutely innocent man to so grewsome a death. He had
Lord Grimsby had not yet entered the room, but from behind the
"And you say he stopped you, my lord?"
"Why, yes." The answer was low and deferential. "He had visitors
"One can argue little of the devil's doings," raged Lord Grimsby.
"I wonder on what we wait. 'Tis surely long after ten o'clock!"
"And 'tis like the devil, too, to make me finish his black work,"
'Twas well known that the crown left naught to the court save the
servants.
"Is an oath nothing to you, then?" she cried, impetuously, still
And then it was Lord Grimsby's voice that answered her.
interfere with the decorum of the law.
Mistress Judith's Star is at Cavanaugh's inn, three squares
away. Fetch him to the end of the lane with what speed you may.
Lips that vie with the poppy's hue,
Eyes that shame the violet's blue,
Hearts that beat with love so true,
Barb'ra, sweet, I come to you!
"Lord Farquhart!" shouted a hundred voices, looking from the
motionless prisoner to the picture in the window.
"The devil!" shouted Lord Grimsby, wavering back from the thrice
encountered fiend.
direction of the Ogilvie woods. He had seen naught, he had heard
straggled across his brow. It was a stupid face, too, but Lindley
himself.
"In truth, I fancy I'll blame my cousin Lindley for whatsoever I
"It's many a day since I've seen your honor at The Jolly Grig,"
murmured Marmaduke, with a certain obsequious familiarity that he
"I--I like not the smell of your place, Master--Master----"
"'Tis Marmaduke Bass, my love," interrupted her father.
Her words and Marmaduke's efforts to collect his thoughts were
"I'm not late?" he cried. "Surely, I'm not late?"
"And even to me, we seem not quite strangers," answered the soft,
"Ay, so I believe it does," she answered, her eyes falling for an
"Must I tell you unasked? Might you not ask me now and see?"
"Ah, sweetheart, speak, speak all you will," cried Lindley. "Your
Cecil's brain sprang to the sound, and all at once he seemed to
recognize a perfume familiar, yet all unfamiliar.
But Judith was heedless of the meaning in his words.
"He knows not one end of the sword from t'other," she cried,
"Ah, what have I done?" she cried.
"All, every one, sweetheart," he answered.
"Well," she said, slowly again and with still longer hesitations,
And in Geldino's sherris, opened by Marmaduke Bass, Lindley only
I am the merle for whistling known,
And you, the sweet branch small and light;
I, gold and black; you, green and white;
I, full of songs; you, flower full-blown.
Take if you will my merry tone
And with your rose-blooms me requite;
I am the merle for whistling known,
And you the sweet branch small and light.
But should your blossoms--overthrown
By storm's or wind's or water's might--
Be swept to earth in sudden plight,
Count not on me for grief or groan;
I am the merle for whistling known.
circle that controls high finance and second to become one of the
The opening chapters explain these ambitions. The magnate of the
financial world is Roebuck, who has from time to time made use of
Roebuck makes a pretense of yielding to the demand.
Using these obligations as a lever, he secures the entree to the
Blacklock persists in his attention to Anita and finally becomes
postponing the catastrophe.
bargain-counter paintings. To his few intimates who were intimate
"Take my card to him," I ordered, "and I'll wait in the parlor."
So absorbed was I in the study of the influence of his terrible
master-character upon those closest to it, that I started when he
stranger whom Thou hast led seemingly by chance into our little
"Is the Coal reorganization to be announced the first of July?" I
"When will the reorganization be announced?" I asked.
"I cannot say," he answered. "Some difficulties--chiefly labor
difficulties--have arisen. Until they are settled, nothing can be
"That you and Mowbray Langdon had conspired to ruin me," said I,
laughing.
We faced each other, each measuring the other. And as his glance
quailed before mine, I turned away to conceal my exultation. In a
"No--please don't turn on any more lights," I said, as she moved
"Oh," she said, and her indifference, forced though I thought it,
"Well," said I, "your mother was right."
She gazed at me without flinching. "And I suppose," she said,
"Take your hand off me," she commanded.
"What plans?" I demanded.
"That is no concern of yours."
"You forget that you are my wife," said I, my brain on fire.
"You are my wife, and you will stay here with me," I reiterated.
"You say, let us be reasonable," I went on. "Well, let us be
reasonable. There may come a time when a woman can be free and
independent, but that time is a long way off yet. The world is
She did not answer, or change expression.
"Is what I say reasonable or unreasonable?" I asked, gently.
"Reasonable--from _your_ standpoint," she said.
"Yes," she answered. "As before."
groundling?
"Alva!" said I, much surprised. She had not asked one of her own
apparently harmless suggestion.
"Then I'll not see you again for several days," said I, most
How to bait tiger Galloway to attack bull Roebuck--that was the
fortune. Certainly, conditions would result in which I could more
"We must do something!" he exclaimed.
"Yes, we must," I admitted. "For instance, we must keep cool,
savageries Galloway would have scorned to commit. Galloway had no
"If you will save me," I continued, "I will transfer to you, in a
"Why didn't you go to Roebuck?" he asked, without looking up.
"Because it is he that has stuck the knife into me."
A grim smile flitted over his face. "You've been too busy getting
"Not necessary," he replied. As I had thought, with that enormous
missionaries."
I laughed, though he had not smiled, but had spoken as if stating
He frowned slightly, a sardonic grin breaking the straight, thin,
"I know it," said he, curtly. "I know you."
scrawlings on that scrap of paper.
Not until I had gone over the situation with Farquhar, and we had
"Luck?" said I, gazing blankly at him.
registered a vow never to gamble again--not with stocks, not with
bought. I read somewhere once that Voltaire--I think it was
expectation of life or of happiness, than the average sinful,
"You've done a grand two hours' work," said Joe.
neither fat nor lean, and his smooth skin was protesting ruddily
"Mr. Forrester?" I asked.
He grew purple to the line of his thick white hair. "It is, Mr.
He wheeled round, looked at me from head to foot. I withstood the
"I have no sentiment toward them, sir," he exclaimed. "They are
"True," said I. "She is a Blacklock."
I went straight to the point. My color may have been high, but my
financially independent. I wish to settle on her a sum of money
Again we looked full and fixedly each at the other. "Come to the
caricatures of his enemies. And you brought the best possible
"In the circumstances," replied I, "you have the right to know
everything. I did not come to you without first making sure what
"First, the why of your plan."
"I am in active business," replied I, "and I shall be still more
active. That means financial uncertainty."
The old man smiled cynically. "Have you tried?" he inquired.
"She would not take it," said I.
"She does not love me," I answered.
"I have hurt you," he said, quickly, in great distress at having
compelled me to expose my secret wound.
necessary that she be independent."
"I confess I do not quite follow you," said he.
"How can she accept anything from me? If she should finally be
"Boyish motives again! They show you do not know women. Don't be
deceived by their delicate exterior, by their pretenses of
super-refinement. They affect to be what passion deludes us into
thinking them. But they're clay, sir, just clay, and far less
"Then I'll do without," said I.
"Then--you'll indulge my folly?" said I, smiling.
"Or far above it," I suggested.
As I steamed up the Sound, I was tempted to put in at Dawn Hill's
I gazed until the trees hid lawn and gay awning, and that lively
It was the next day, I think, that I met Mowbray Langdon and his
Tom went on; Mowbray stopped. We shook hands, and exchanged
But he had thought out some lies he regarded as particularly
self-complacence would have been put out of countenance. You may
"That's good," he drawled. I saw he did not believe me--which was
thousands where tens of thousands had read it before the
"Meanwhile," I reasoned, "I can be getting good and ready."
In the region of South Washington Square there are many ancient
tawdriness of the furnishings. A curtain of burlaps screened one
proclaimed feminine occupancy.
"I have climbed so many stairs that I am not sure whether I have
"Tom, you irreverent boy! Come inside this minute, before you
"Indeed I do, and when it comes 'by-low' time, there is a grand
"Don't make it as long a proceeding as in the old days, then," he
appreciated, from the cheer and life which Tom Livingston's brief
The small glass told her that her face was still very attractive,
And Tom, on the other side of the door, was also thinking of her
"I go back in two months," he said, eagerly. "My mother would be
delighted to see you, if you would come over with me."
"Ah, but my ship may be delayed longer than that and----"
forbids."
"Young woman, you are to understand that you are 'personally
sparkling with pleasure.
"Betsy, things are coming your way; I've caught one for you," he
commence, and I will have her here."
"But who is it?" she persisted.
"But how old is she, Tom? I must know what to prepare for."
"There is only one drawback, Betsy," said Tom, as he finished his
"But won't the mother, or some one, come with her?" she asked, in
Tom's enthusiastic description of the child was borne out by the
"Here she is, Betsy," said Tom, gayly, as he sat down with the
"And this is what comes of being an independent woman," he said,
"Is this the way you attend to your 'life work,' young woman?" he
sittings commenced, he noticed that her hair was arranged in the
"Why, Betsy, you are growing younger," he said, looking at her in
"Tom, I must have a talk with you," said Elizabeth, her voice
speaking, and Elizabeth faced him.
"Do what? Keep the child with you?" asked Tom, in amazement.
Love planted my rose in his garden fair--
My rose of heart's delight--
And he laughed with joy when he saw it bear
A crown of blossoms bright.
But the harsh wind shattered the petals red
'Twixt darkness and the dew;
What blossoms were living, what blooms were dead,
Ah, Love nor cared nor knew!
"Oh, if Tom Mason's the reason"--uncle William's hoe rested
"Then have I your blessing?"
"Don't make me face details yet."
"Miss Pamela Roscoe, you mean? No, of course not; why should I?"
decision with her eyes straight before her. A leisurely footstep
admirari_ sort, and her voice what Annie afterward described as
_mortuary_. The girl murmured her name, a wan smile welcomed her.
Miss Pamela, at the window, threw back the shutter, rolled up a
curtain and the western sunlight filled the place. Annie took the
"It ain't hospitable, I know," her monotone apologized; "a first
"Poor soul," thought the girl, "here is the decorative instinct
untrammeled by imitation. Individuality inherent! Unkind fate,
dismally, "but the idea's original with me."
"Oh, very good, indeed," said Annie, conscious that she brought
disappointment on the wings of her voice.
"It has been a sickly season," remarked the elder lady.
maybe--your aunt always puts me in mind of her--she used to have
Her yardstick touched the basket lovingly, as she went on: "That
banana, on the extreme left, contains my grandfather's gold-bowed
Miss Roscoe maintained her air of pathetic sternness.
"Miss Jenkins, I don't think there's going to be any fair," she
remarked, succinctly.
"Well, _I've_ been making some arrangements, too."
"And everybody's going to help--your cousin, Mrs. Collamer, and
"Paterson, indeed!" Miss Roscoe's voice showed its first touch of
"But she seemed very enthusiastic," began Annie, feebly.
"I'm afraid you are," Miss Pamela assented, gloomily. "I'm an old
"Well?" called uncle William from the head of the table.
"_First_, there isn't going to be any fair!
"_Third_, behold in me a woman who knows when she is _beaten_!
quotation board every morning at eleven o'clock?
This happy-go-lucky gentleman, however, to use one of his own
schoolmistresses.
The very penny chroniclers of the market acquire an infelicitous
What conceivable enterprise which expected to exist on public
The air is thick with signs and evil portents: Stop-loss orders,
A too subtle analyst might suggest that this presentation of
The stockbroker says to the public: "My dear sir, here is an open
respectable, so reckless or cautious, as you choose.
A knot of gentlemen are chatting about the ticker; some more are
watching the board. An old man with a white beard is dozing in a
decline a point all round. A money broker in to offer a million
general and intimate knowledge of men and of the town, which,
organized and classified, constitutes the science of life. Here
elsewhere, whether their private lives are distinguished and
pleasure from the Knickerbocker Club. There is a clergyman from
scowling fiercely at each other presently before Recorder Goff.
professional operator who trades from the tape. And that
Where everybody is liable to lose his wits any instant, it is
desire for exciting, highly colored amusements.
cigar, and to tell you, in the horsy, professional jargon of the
Exchange. All members must charge one-eighth of one per cent, per
personality. He must know how to stimulate cupidity and create
broker, but on his being a gentleman.
The flash public very naturally choose the same pleasant road to
It is this combination of the gambler, the sporting man, the fast
It is a derisive goblin or a piteous, ineffective human soul,
O Wind of the wild sweet morning!
You have entered the heart in me!
And I'm fain to sing for life and spring
And all young things that be!
O whispering wind of the shadow!
A voice from the day that is past,
You make me fain for the home again
And quiet love at last.
Among other things, Lady Harden knew when to be silent, and now,
having made her speech, she sat watching Cleeve, as, aghast, he
interested her.
But he had never thought of her as belonging to his own class in
years, and she knew this.
success.
For over a minute he did not speak. Then he looked up.
"How in the devil did you find that out?" he asked, abruptly.
"I saw it. Do you mind my warning you?"
Dudley's--my eldest brother's."
Lady Harden laughed.
"So she seemed too old for--that sort of thing? I see. In fact, I
He laid his neglected rod in the bottom of the boat, and rowed in
"But why have you been making love to her so--outrageously?"
Warringham girls are frights, and the little Parham thing
"Who got _your_ eggs and bacon, then?" he retorted.
It was the first sounding of the Personal tone, and behind the
cigarette her lips quivered for a fraction of a second.
"A contemporary--why, the man's old enough to be your father!"
Then silence fell, and she knew that he was somewhat tumultuously
Colonel Durrant, who had fallen deeply in love with her ten years
And as she smiled in answer, her eyes met Teddy Cleeve's.
And Lady Harden--her greatness, in several ways, was an undoubted
suspected it--was insatiable in the matter of information.
Like a boa constrictor, her tremendous curiosity would sleep for
plentifully supplied with money, so that the world was for him a
smiling place.
He had insisted on going into the navy--or, rather, he had not
He had always been in love, but never with one girl for long. "Of
carelessness.
"You are a wretch," she said, looking up at him. She was a small
woman, and in this day of giantesses this has its charm.
"Yes. You are a flirt."
"I am a saint," he declared, with conviction. "A young,
innocent--anchorite."
"Young--yes. You are _very_ young, Mr. Cleeve."
"You called me Teddy this afternoon."
"Then I was a very abandoned person."
"Please be abandoned again. By the way, the colonel expiated many
She stared. "How?"
"By sitting where he did. Not even opposite side of the table! My
"Your luck? How?"
"Because--I could at least _see_ you!"
Lady Harden was an adept in the gentle art of snubbing.
"My dear child," she said, very gently, pulling off her gloves,
"_don't_ be absurd. I can't bear being made love to by boys!"
little-known things, plaintive for the most part, and played them
She also looked her best with fiddle in her arms, a rapt, far-off
Teddy Cleeve, watching her, hated her for the moment.
"Too thin," returned Teddy, the crafty.
"I say, Bess, what is Lady Harden's first name?"
"Dagny. Her mother's mother was a Norwegian, you know."
Alas for poor Mrs. Fraser, she was not clever.
Pausing in the game, she looked up.
"Mind you don't fall in love with her, Teddy," she said, sharply.
"Well, a good many men do. And she's frightfully attractive, and
He frowned. "I'm twenty-five, and--a fellow sees a lot by that
time--if he's ever going to see anything. Play."
"I've been warned against you," he said, abruptly, his blue eyes
dancing.
"Against me?"
"Yes. Against falling in love with you."
"I don't see why."
"Why, because she is married."
"I might allow you to--do what you were warned against."
"Yes, allow you to."
"Nearly twenty-six," he answered, stretching a point. "Why?"
She was a great flirt, but, at the same time, she was a very kind
A careful study of the science of flirting and its masters and
She had, however, a really remarkable dramatic talent, and this
"Aren't you clever?"
"And if you were?"
"If I were, I'd know what you are thinking about."
This, too, is a milestone on the Dover Road.
"Honor bright?"
"Honor bright. I was wondering what you will be like in fifteen
"Why fifteen?"
"Well, because if you were forty you would be just my age."
"You are thirty."
"You are one--to me."
"I'm not a child."
Under her broad hat brim her eyes gleamed maliciously.
She raised her head.
"Oh, don't! Don't fall in love with me; it would bore us both to
death; be my nice adopted son."
"Thank Heaven! I adore boys, but a boy in love is really _too_
appalling."
He caught her hand and looked down at her, something suddenly
dominating in his eyes.
"That is nonsense," he said, shortly. "I am young, but I am not a
"It would not be as a child loves. That is all."
He released her hand, and they walked on in silence.
anticipation.
His face was very white, his mouth fixed.
"Why have you done this?" he asked, abruptly.
"That is--a damned lie."
"Oh, yes, 'Teddy'! It _is_ a lie. Why tell it?"
"Don't--look like that, Teddy."
"I look as I feel. I am not--you."
"What do you mean?"
"I mean that you looked at me at dinner as if----"
"Hush! Don't say horrid things."
"You are talking nonsense. I am very nearsighted, and----"
As he spoke, they heard peals of distant laughter, and saw six or
Lady Harden clasped her hands nervously.
"Dagny--I say, you must love me, too."
"Well, I do not love you, and I never shall. Now let us end this
melodrama."
It was, in spite of the thrill of the unusual that she distinctly
"How can you make me suffer, you baby?" she asked.
"That is not true."
"Oh, yes, it is, Lady Harden. It's because I am young, and big,
Her eyes closed for an instant. "You are brutal."
Bending, he kissed her.
"Oh, why----" she stammered, as he released her.
"Because--it is the only way. You could always have beaten me at
"You had no right to kiss me."
"I think I had. If a woman has a right to torment a man as you
tormented me, he surely has a right to take whatever means he can
He had found, she felt, the solution to the Eternal riddle.
After a second's hesitation he answered, curtly: "Yes."
brutes--particularly, perhaps, the good ones who flirt."
Cleeve laughed. "'The good ones who flirt.' Go on!"
longer, I should have, but--I do _not_ love you at this minute."
"I don't believe it. I'm not sorry, and I don't believe you are.
The voices, still afar seemed discordant in the white stillness.
The Boy-Man's lips were set hard, his brows drawn down.
"Ah, Dagny, dearest," he whispered, "and I must go to-morrow."
She looked up. "You have won; I have lost; thank God you go
to-morrow!" she answered.
What matters down here in the darkness?
'Tis only the rat that squeals,
Crushed down under the iron hoof.
'Tis only the fool that feels.
'Tis only the child that weeps and sorrows
For the death of a love or a rose;
While grim in its grinding, soulless mask,
Iron, the iron world goes.
God is an artist, mind is the all,
Only the art survives.
Just for a curve, a tint, a fancy,
Millions on millions of lives!
If this be your creed, O late-world poet,
Pass, with your puerile pose;
For I am the fool, the child that suffers,
That weeps and sleeps with the rose.
looking at one with a straight, honest, gaze._
MISS PAYSLEY (_pulling aside the vines_)--What a sense of space
darkness gives one! I feel as if I were looking into eternity!
MISS PAYSLEY (_bringing her eyes to his, as if with effort, and
blushing_)--You know I warned you! I'm awfully in earnest, and
sometimes I say--well, things.
MISS PAYSLEY (_raising her eyes suddenly again_)--You may have
had--your reasons.
MR. JARVIS--What do you see?
MR. JARVIS (_interested in spite of himself_)--What does it mean?
MISS PAYSLEY (_embarrassed, hesitating_)--It isn't pleasant.
MR. JARVIS (_looking at her_)--Go on!
MR. JARVIS (_rising to the bait_)--Why, I haven't a consumptive
MISS PAYSLEY (_aside_)--You don't catch this child this way. No
compliments about your impressible temperaments from me. (_Aloud,
MISS PAYSLEY (_undisturbed_)--Hold your fingers up to the light.
MR. JARVIS--Three times.
MR. JARVIS--It does to me.
MR. JARVIS--Have you ever heard about the expulsive power of a
new--interest.
MR. JARVIS--So few things have a fixed value; it's what they seem
comfort!
MISS PAYSLEY (_studying his hand intently_)--Yes, and you will
sacrifice not only anything but anybody!
MISS PAYSLEY--Please hold up your hands with the first fingers
touching. I thought so.
exaggerated worship of strength in yourself and others.
MR. JARVIS--Where do you see that?
MISS PAYSLEY--In the whole character of your hand. (_Aside._)
Millicent said "strength and the admiration of strength is his
(_Aside._) He's purring already like a Cheshire cat.
MR. JARVIS--Can one? A man, I mean?
MR. JARVIS--How graceful!
following your creed of strength.
MISS PAYSLEY--Please let your hand drop over from the wrist. How
unusual!
MR. JARVIS (_interested_)--I've never seen that done before.
MISS PAYSLEY (_tranquilly_)--You have your fortune told early and
MR. JARVIS (_undisturbed_)--As often as possible!
MISS PAYSLEY (_calmly_)--A layer cake, I should put it.
MR. JARVIS--I just live on flattery.
MR. JARVIS (_gratefully_)--Thank you for the heart.
MISS PAYSLEY--You like to have people think you are cynical and
light-minded. You only show your real self to a few people.
MR. JARVIS--He sounds to me like a prig and a bore.
MISS PAYSLEY (_with more warmth than she has shown yet_)--He's a
charming and delightful person. It's the man of the world with
the-smile-that-won't-come-off that's the bore!
MR. JARVIS--Have you found me so?
MISS PAYSLEY (_steadily_)--Not when I've read between the lines.
MR. JARVIS--Isn't there any frosting?
MISS PAYSLEY (_aside_)--They simply are insatiable for praise.
MR. JARVIS (_meekly_)--I hope you liked it.
MISS PAYSLEY (_harking back to the last remark but one_)--This
MR. JARVIS--How more easily taken in?
MR. JARVIS--No, nor for your opinion of me.
MISS PAYSLEY (_aside_)--You can't get a rise out of me that way.
(_Aloud._) No, nor for that, either.
MR. JARVIS--Let's sift down the evidence. I'm in danger of losing
(_Aloud._) Did you come out here with the intention of telling my
MISS PAYSLEY (_slowly_)--I've done what I came out for!
MR. JARVIS--And that was?
MISS PAYSLEY (_rising and turning away_)--Something I foolishly
thought I ought to do.
MR. JARVIS (_calmly_)--To Bob Burke, I mean.
MR. JARVIS (_still calmly_)--So could I. So I did.
MISS PAYSLEY (_with horror-struck eyes_)--But I don't understand!
MISS PAYSLEY--But when we were abroad together----
MR. JARVIS--Please don't! I know I take a "lump of dough for a
MISS PAYSLEY (_impulsively_)--Please forgive me. I thought----
MISS PAYSLEY (_bravely_)--What else was I to think?
MR. JARVIS--And why wouldn't you tell me the rest?
MR. JARVIS (_aside_)--How pretty she is. (_Aloud._) Life hasn't
MR. JARVIS--It's not too late.
MR. JARVIS--So do I. The first time you were nice to me, and the
second time you were nice----
MISS PAYSLEY--Because of Millicent.
A little skein of tangled floss they lie,
(You always said they should have been a girl's.)
The tears will come--you cannot quite tell why--
They fall unheeded on that mass--his curls.
Poor little silken skein, so dear to you.
"'Twere better short," the wiser father said,
"He's getting older now."--Alas, how true!
And yet you wonder where the years have fled.
"'Twere better short----" the while your fond heart yearned
To keep them still, reluctant standing by,
You saw your little angel, earthward turned,
Yet all unknowing, lay his halo by.
Soft little threads! They held you with such strength!
You knew the way each wanton ringlet fell,
You knew each shining tendril's golden length,
How oft they've tangled, only you can tell.
In dusky twilight shadows, oh, how oft
You've seen their light along your shoulder lie.
You leaned your cheek to touch the masses soft,
The while you crooned some drowsy lullaby.
How often when the sun was dawning red
You bent above him in the early ray,
And from that glory round the baby head
You drew your light for all the weary day.
And now--you start--the front door gives a slam--
The hall resounds with little, hurrying feet,
He climbs upon your knee--the wee, shorn lamb,--
And dries your tears with kisses, warm and sweet.
You fold your sorrow from his happy eyes--
(You always said they should have been a girl's.)
Half of his Eden sunlight buried lies
Amid the meshes of those baby curls.
"In jest a minute, miss."
"Now. I'm in a hurry."
Miss Farnsworth waited half the designated period, then she said,
"May I go with you?" he asked, easily, coming up.
"Certainly. Why not?"
"Because I told Joe not to let you go without me."
She colored under her summer's tan.
She looked puzzled.
"Oh--nonsense!" said the girl. "I'm not afraid of them."
"They ran away day before yesterday."
"That makes no difference."
automobile."
"Possibly not--to you. It makes an immense difference to me."
"Put it politely," he warned her, smiling.
"Please change places with me." She said it imperiously.
"Have you driven them before?"
"I wonder why," he mused.
She was silent, but her cheeks burned with displeasure.
"I'm glad we're to have a Fourth of July celebration," said he,
driving steadily on. His tone became casual, with a pleasant
"Of course you are not selling her," remarked Miss Farnsworth,
carelessly, as she walked away to examine her freight.
"Well--had an offer of two hundred and fifty for her last week."
"Why--no. She's wu'th three hundred if she's wu'th a cent."
"You won't get three hundred for her," said the girl.
"She's as sound as a nut," declared the freight agent, with
indignation. Miss Farnsworth laughed.
horse'll do that. She ain't lame now--wa'n't then to amount to
anything. But I'd like to know how you guessed it."
She was still laughing. "I suppose you would let her go for two
hundred and twenty-five, now, wouldn't you?"
"Will you take two hundred and fifty for Betty?" she asked, with
perfect coolness, except for a certain gleam in her eyes.
"You ain't buyin' horses yourself?"
"I asked you a question."
"She ain't no lady's horse."
"Well--if you mean it, and can pay me cash----"
"Mr. Jarvis," said the horse buyer, "can we lead her home?"
He shook his head. "Not behind the colts."
"Yes, ma'am. Not a very good one, but such as 'tis."
"Have you a side-saddle?" she demanded of the freight agent.
"Well--if you'll wait five minutes--I 'low I can get one."
He silently put her upon the mare, held the animal quiet while he
The two men watched her round the turn. Then Jarvis sprang to his
saddle-horse--except for the tricks I haven't found out yet."
If Betty's rider, being avowedly an expert horsewoman, recognized
mettlesome spirit upon the Crofton road to be reckoned with that
morning.
Under such circumstances it was nearly inevitable that something
But, as usual, it was not the foreseen which happened, but the
Jarvis had recognized the fall of the trunk, and in the one quick
"Now," he said, aloud, to them--and his voice was harsh with
It was an unfrequented road, and no one had come over it since
"I'll get you home as soon as you feel able."
She turned her head slowly toward the road. Divining her thought,
"Is she dreadfully hurt?"
He nodded. The girl lay still an instant, then she threw one arm
across her eyes, and Jarvis saw that she was softly sobbing. He
helped her to her room, the porch being for the moment mercifully
"No--you couldn't. I've something to live for, so I'm
invulnerable--till I get it."
appealed to him more irresistibly than ever.
She thrust one hand down under the folds of her skirt, drew out
began--and could not finish.
"That there sprained leg----" Joe began, doubtfully.
"Yes--it'll be about as tough a proposition as the broken one.
The two men looked at each other.
"If you say so----" agreed Joe.
engineer looked at each other with exceeding satisfaction.
"She'll get well," said Jarvis, with conviction. "I never saw it
better done than you have managed it."
"Well!" Joe greeted him. "You're another. I can't seem to sleep,
uneven footsteps slowly approaching across the barn floor. He was
breathing quickly, against the side of the stall. Her face as she
"Did you hear what I said to Betty?"
"I could hardly help it."
"Do you expect me to believe that?" he asked, smiling.
"Did I seem to want it?"
"Very decidedly."
"I know how I should have felt toward myself."
"How would you?" she asked, curiously.
"Dangerous ground."
"I don't understand."
"That was just in this instance," she interrupted, quickly.
"Such a thing never happened before?"
"Certainly not."
"How about the time you lost your slipper off under the table the
"You admit that?"
"Thank you--that's precisely the way I felt."
"But it doesn't prevent--it wouldn't prevent my wanting my own
She turned a brilliant color under the lantern rays.
He bent forward. "Are you warning me?"
"I'm trying to let you know the sort of person I am."
"I've always been told that sort of thing grows upon one," she
observed.
"What sort of thing? Having one's own way?"
She nodded.
"Elaine Dennison," she observed--somewhat irrelevantly, it might
"Yes--and doesn't succeed. And you--don't want to make them
well-distributed masculine bulk. But it was only his lips which
"Good-night, Betty," she said.
"You ought not to walk, with that knee. You can't fool with a
knee--it's a bad place to get hurt. I'm going to carry you."
He came close. "See here," he said, rapidly, under his breath, "I
"Yes, I'll answer you," she said, with uplifted head.
"Look at me, then."
There was no answer.
She raised her eyes little by little till they had reached his
shoulders, broad and firm and motionless.
"Good-by, Mr. Jarvis," she said, very low, and in a voice which
Not credulous, yet active in belief
That good is better than the worst is bad;
A generous courage mirrored in the glad
Challenging eyes, that gentle oft with grief
For honest woe--while lurking like a thief,
Peering around the corners, humor creeps,
Into the gravest matters pries and peeps,
Till grimmest face relaxes with relief;
A heart belovèd of the wiser gods
Grown weary of solemnity prolonged--
That snatches scraps of gladness while Fate nods,
Varying life's prose with stories many-songed:
One who has faced the dark and naught denied--
Yet lives persistent on the brightest side.
From a worldly point of view there could be no question as to the
daughters had made something of a mess of matrimony, pecuniarily
speaking.
She was confessedly ambitious for Nancy--Nancy, the youngest, the
desires. Not, _of course_, that she would want Nancy to marry for
connubial bliss.
"You was," "those kind," "between you and I," would slip out, but
"James is so droll," the aristocratic Mrs. Warren would say
occasional lapses. For James' father, old Sid Thornton, as he was
ideally fitted for the post.
established there as the bride of Mr. James Thornton.
"Mr. Thornton is most kind, but his hands are positively beefy,
martyr.
"Not at all. People sometimes have a proper sense of the eternal
Nancy's face was a study.
"He's a trifle unideal, mother; a bit different, you must admit,"
"Don't be vulgar, Anne," her mother said, sharply. "He inherits
She reveled in the violets and orchids which, so sure as the day
"You must see Mr. Thornton when he comes to-night, for I have a
"I'm not, mother; only think"--Nancy's eyes glistened--"no more
twelve-dollar-a-week hotels; grape-fruit every morning, and cream
for--for anybody, Nancy?"
Nancy's nails went deep into the palms of her hands. "Without a
regret, Marmee," she smiled, brightly.
"And that you think you will be perfectly happy with James?"
"Perfectly," said Nancy, evenly.
"I have everything upstairs, thank you, mother. Good-night."
"Good-night, my darling child." Those kisses were the fondest her
decision may be, and Nancy's first feeling when she awoke on the
levelheaded young woman, and when, an hour after that, she found
When they finally returned to the Warrens' modest house, the wily
night"--a queer little tremor ran over her--"instead of at Mr.
"Why, no," said Mrs. Warren, complacently; "I think it will make
everything easier for James if we are up there. You know he is
inclined to be diffident, Nancy. A man always appears to better
advantage in his own house."
"Anne!" Her mother frowned angrily.
"Yes, I think you have," blazed Mrs. Warren.
"I was only fooling, dearie; it's all going to be lovely, and I'm
courageous--I mean," Nancy explained, hastily, as she caught her
"Why, yes, I suppose I did," said Mrs. Warren, half doubtfully.
As soon as the door had closed behind Mrs. Warren, Nancy, singing
drawers and ransacking inconsequent-looking boxes, with a
Have you never noticed that it is often the most whimsically
inconsequent, the most utterly ordinary, the most intrinsically
But when upon your fated way you meet
That little pebble stops you, and you dread
To bruise your tender feet.
She walked rapidly away from the window, and put the little blue
earnestly.
DEAR MOTHER: I have gone to New York to spend the night with
Lilla Browning--made up my mind suddenly, and as I knew you were
asleep, didn't want to bother you. Knew you couldn't possibly
have any objection, because you are so fond of Lil. Want to do
some shopping in the morning, and thought this would be the best
way to get an early start. Expect me home to-morrow afternoon on
the 5:45. Best regards to Mr. Thornton. Have Maggie press my red
dress; tell her to be careful not to scorch it. I found the
lace. By-by. NANCY.
unconsciousness of its total depravity.
flashed over the wires. One ran:
MRS. JONATHAN BROWNING, West Seventy-second Street, New York
City: Will spend to-night with you. Arrive about ten. Don't meet
me. NANCY.
The second one was more brief:
MR. PHILIP PEIRCE. Princeton Club, New York City: Dine with me
to-night at Scarlatti's at seven. ANNE WARREN.
She looked after the retreating hansom, and a wretched,
half-frightened homesickness swept over her.
"You know I told you that I should _always_ be glad to see you,
nodded, and Phil led the way into Scarlatti's.
She took the whole room in at a glance, and breathed a sigh of
There was the same absurd little orchestra in their same absurd
"Oh-h!" said Phil, quietly.
"And---and everything," finished Nancy, lamely.
Phil nodded. Did he not remember everything? Had he not _been_
remembering ever since? That was the pity of it all!
"We were pretty happy that night, weren't we, Phil?"
"You don't look very old, Phil."
"What?" she asked, very softly, smiling adorably.
"Oh, everything----" He stopped short, the smile had escaped him.
"My advice?" echoed Phil, wonderingly.
"And she didn't care for anyone else?" Philip's tone was coldly
judicial.
Philip eyed her narrowly.
"I can't see why you want _my_ advice," he said, dully.
sort--would you advise this man to marry her?"
"And he didn't care for anyone else?" Nancy whispered.
"And he didn't care for anyone else," said Phil, steadily.
"Why, if he cared for no one else, I----" The words came with an
effort. "Who is she, Phil?"
"What do you mean?" he asked, tensely.
"Oh, everything," she said, wearily. "The worldliness and the
"But you said----" began Nancy, in a weak little voice.
"I know I am. I'm despicable, mean, cowardly, unmanly----"
"And--happy!" finished Phil, triumphantly. "Nance"---the tone was
"You're a perfect angel!" Phil declared again, fervently.
"I dare you," laughed Phil, happily.
"Well, it's only on your account that I don't," she said, airily.
"Phil," said Nancy, about a week later--they had just finished
"Absolutely," said Phil, with conviction.
"Don't worry. I'll be the dutiful son to the queen's taste."
"No, miss, I cannot." He drew himself up stiffly. Mrs. Warren's
daughter was evidently in his bad books.
"Is Mr. Thornton at home?" she asked, timidly.
"No, miss, he is not." His lips clicked. Then, with sudden
"His _what_?" gasped Nancy, weakly.
laughed until, for lack of breath, she couldn't laugh any longer.
"Well, it keeps the 'shoals of money' in the family!" said Phil,
philosophically, and then he howled.
"No, darling, there wasn't time. But, at any rate, we've made our
"And, if you don't mind, old fellow, will you bring over the guns
That had been Tony Rennert's parting charge as he bolted from the
Agawan had changed since last I was there. Then it was a big,
"I beg your pardon," I said, "but you see----"
"Trunk!" I echoed.
failed to appear, and already the station master had began to
"It is a bargain," I said. "I shall hold you to it. But why the
married Edith."
"And you haven't seen her since?"
"Since she was married? You know I haven't, you goose! Why, it is
"At Agawan," I hazarded.
For the first time in my life I ceased to feel scorn for an
She gave a little shiver. "And there is no other road?"
stirring. She laughed.
inquired, "just when you made up your mind to that heroic act?"
After-reflection convinced me that nothing less than a criminal
What reply was there but the one I made?
"If what?" I asked.
"If Edith doesn't mind!"
evening clothes. Our exact meeting place was a vague locality
described by her as "wherever Edith is."
With that understanding we parted at the door of the clubhouse. I
played, which would allow me to retire with a resemblance of
Then, just as I was about to turn away to hide myself, to forget
"What?" I gasped.
She laid her fan across my hand. "I wonder," she remarked,
I nodded.
"And now," she went on, "the affair is up to you and me. I am
"I wouldn't think of it," declared Mrs. "Ted."
"You surprise me," she said, but she promised.
complained that Miss Gans could not be found anywhere.
Margery heard, and flushed. "Come on," she said. "This is
disgraceful." She rose.
"No buts," she insisted. "Have you forgotten Edith?"
"For the time being," I admitted.
"For how long, and for whom?" she inquired.
"Let us discuss it in the bower," I suggested.
picture of a slender girl in the depths of a big, cane chair, a
I waited by. There was no alternative; Mrs. "Ted" held me with a
glance that definitely said: "Flight is at your peril."
dressing room.
was--significant.
mentally I checked off the first item. Second, the young woman. I
Margery was--Margery. There was sweetness in this thought, and
infinite anguish, too.
"Miss Gans" and "Mrs. Page"! Even to my dull comprehension those
I must have administered my intentions with strictness; for,
"Neither," I said, with emphasis, and stopped there.
"For the pleasure of your company."
"And you aren't sorry?"
"Of course not. Haven't I told you?"
"Anything," I answered.
"Then, take all the time you need. It doesn't matter in the least
"And you can't mend the spring?"
"I'm going to try. But I must keep you waiting--perhaps quite a
"The one thing I cannot do," I answered. I dropped the spring and
"But you have forgotten!" she interposed instantly. "You have
forgotten Edith."
I told her the truth. "I am not Mr. Page," I said, bluntly.
"You let me call you 'Mr. Page'?" she said, after a moment.
"Page is my first name," I answered.
"You took a strange way to prove it," she returned.
I turned away miserable, bitter with myself. And all the while I
unmistakable.
I brought the car to a stop at the gates. "I believe this is Mr.
Page's place," I said.
"You will please take me to the house," she repeated.
"None other," she answered. "Margery Gans, at your service, or,
But she kept her face resolutely upon her host, and said nothing.
"Of course," he said, and turned back into the house. She threw a
I took them in mine. What I did concerned only us two. "Good-by,
Margery," I said at last.
"Page," I prompted.
Desire of joy--how keen, how keen it is!
(Oh, the young heart--the young heart in its Spring!)
There waits adventure on the road of bliss--
A challenge in each note the free birds fling;
The spur of pride to dare us climb and kiss--
Desire of joy--how keen, how keen it is!
Desire of tears--but this is sweet, most sweet!
(Oh, the young heart--the young heart in its Spring!)
That sits a little while at Sorrow's feet
And tastes of pain as some forbidden thing,
That draught where all things sweet and bitter meet--
Desire of tears--ah me, but it is sweet!
Desire of joy and tears--ah, gifts of gold!
(Oh, the young heart--the young heart in its Spring!)
Once only are these treasures in our hold,
Once only is the rapture and the sting,
And then comes peace--to tell us we are old--
Desire of joy and tears--ah, gifts of gold!
woman's veins throughout the ages?
catastrophe--hastened flight--would it not first be seized in
preference to your costliest treasure?
If you have no such possession, doubtless you are more peacefully
There have been others, too, that knew nothing of the love
Marquise_!" Silly or supreme, all are vulnerable.
Therefore it is with no lack of authority that you learn that the
Of course there were times, ages ago, when the love token had no
place. When man was universally polygamous, and when the form of
galleries of which the owners are justly proud.
Miniatures, to be sure, are the love tokens of comparative
understood by the old time Greek and Roman, himself gathering the
calcium.
In this secrecy, so essential to the love token, our writers of
_Aramis_ to the fact that he has stepped upon a handkerchief--a
corner.
At the moment she spoke these words a rap on the ceiling made
her raise her head, and a voice which reached her through the
ceiling cried:
"Dear Madame Bonacieux, open the little passage door for me, and
I will come down to you."
The poets, of course, ever have had a greater affection for love
consummate luxury of sadness, had on his deathbed the melancholy
coffin.
Tell her it liv'd upon smiles and wine
Of the brightest hue while it lingered here.
But Byron was the man for love tokens. To "Mary" on receiving her
Oh! I will wear it next my heart;
'Twill bind my soul in bonds to thee;
From me again 'twill ne'er depart,
But mingle in the grave with me.
This was written in 1806. He was then eighteen. Think of the love
promises, that now "mingle in the grave" with him! Fortunately,
'Tis past--to them and thee adieu--
False heart, frail chain and silent lute.
But, despite Moore's insincerity and Byron's vagaries, the man of
reporters and the gloating public.
But now how we smile at the fond love token,
And laugh at the sweet words spoken low.
I am confirmed a woman can
Love this, or that, or any man:
This day she's melting hot,
To-morrow swears she knows you not.
Your boxing gloves slyly I've fastened
Out of sight in the corner, right here.
I'd put them up high, but I "dassent,"
You see it _would_ look rather queer!
And that the twentieth century girl of this sort, even if boxing
Dear old chap, I'm not given to gushing,
You know, but I'm tired to-night.
I think I am centuries older,
Yet if you were here I dare say,
I should put my head down on your shoulder
And cry--you remember my way!
kneeling at the altar, they whispered, "I will."
If thou wilt be mine, I shall make thee happier than God himself
in His paradise; the angels themselves will be jealous of thee.
I am Beauty--I am Youth--I am Life--come to me!--together we
shall be Love. Our lives will flow on like a dream--in one
eternal kiss.
"visions of love, of Cupids, of Hymens!--delightful, eternal
commonplaces; which, having been, will always be."
incident in life's story. To him she is its climax.
chiefly, because the men that could write it best are those that
To never love--to turn from the sight of all beauty--to put out
one's own eyes--to hide forever crouching in the chill shadows
of some cloister--to visit none but the dying--to watch by
unknown corpses!
Oh, lovely is the quinta in the warm and sunny morn,
Acequima's ripple softly to the coming of the dawn;
Fresh breezes toss the branches green, the chill of dusk is past,
Oh, lovely is the quinta in the quiet afternoon
In breathless ether lonely hangs; faint rings the parrot's cry.
The stillness is idyllic. As the slow sun swings round
Oh, lovely is the quinta in the gorgeous tropic night,
Where stand the broad banana trees and lemon flowers fall.
A whisper low beyond the wall, a name below the breath--
For Life is full of treachery, yet Love is Lord of Death--
The tinkle of a gay guitar, a cry, a horse in flight--
Ay Dios! guard the quinta in the gorgeous tropic night.
Come to thy window, Love,
And through the lattice bars
Show me a fairer sky above.
With two more lovely stars;
So shall the summer night
Know new depths of delight,
And I in dreams grow wise
Remembering thine eyes.
Come to thy window, Sweet,
And wide the lattice swing,
That vagrant zephyrs may repeat
What words my lips shall sing
Unto your ears anew,
Up from the fragrant dew,
That all your dreams may be
Like those that gladden me.
Come to thy window:--soft!
Thy footstep light I hear.
About me silence, but aloft
A melody most dear.
It is thy voice that fills
The night's blue cup and spills
Into the air the word
A rose breathes to a bird.
Come to thy window:--so,
I glimpse the gleam of grace.
Rose of all roses now I know
Featured in thy fair face:
Now all love's joy is mine
Save one heart that is thine.
Dearest, my dream is this--
Thy heart's beat and thy kiss!
consented--and her doom was pronounced.
When twenty-five years of life had deepened the smooth pink of
younger sister received callers, and she had done so.
Eulalie's exactions were upsetting to the tranquil mind. Eulalie
So Elvira warred with her daily briers alone. Reproach and appeal
Eulalie giggled joyously.
"Most fervently do I hope so," sighed Elvira.
The strain of excessive chaperoning was wearing upon her.
"Your sister looks tired," a late acquisition of Eulalie's made
"Treat everybody well."
"Suppose we move into good hearing range, then?" he suggested.
Eulalie's upward-arching eyebrows.
"Oh," said she--a cool little crescendo.
Elvira received the information with tranquillity.
importation."
"Is it?" Eulalie asked, languidly remote.
occasioned one.
"No doubt Mr. Griswold's uncle will find it 'so engrossing.'"
Elvira stared in hopeless amaze at her grasping sister.
chaperoning of Eulalie for a while," Elvira admitted.
"A neat pompadour, with an empire knot, would make an up-to-date
etching of you."
"I thought I came here to nurse you."
"Oh, well, you can coddle me sometimes, when I think I'm getting
"How did you come by it so glibly?"
Besides, I have a glimmer that Eulalie has her eye upon him."
"Barring tramps, not one. Still, Mr. Courtenay might distance the
"Oh, I don't care--if you don't pomp it too loudly."
Elvira has lost the little up-and-down worry wrinkle between her
eyes--the only one she had; she looks about twenty-two. Mr.
Erastus Courtenay has come to Lindale to inspect his mills, but
he hasn't seen the inside of one of them yet. He is here a great
deal.
And this postscript was appended:
Tubs wouldn't hold the roses Mr. Courtenay squanders on Elvira.
"She has no business--it's absurd at her age."
"Thirty-two isn't decrepit."
"Oh, that's the snag! But you are not engaged to Hugh, are you?"
"Did Elvira know you had intentions that way?"
Hugh grinned comfortably.
"She has no business to let him, then!" Eulalie's eyes began to
sparkle out blue fire. "A sly old minx she is! She----"
"I'll stop and tell her so as I go through Lindale, on my annual
camping tramp--shall I?"
"Oh, yes, do--please do," Eulalie pleaded, sweetly.
Marion wrote back:
"Tell Elvira to stay as long as she likes. Laly's pallor came
out of her powder box. She eats rations enough for two."
"So my prim, old-maid sister has turned butterfly since she went
gadding?"
"Oh, she doesn't want them, nor encourage them," Hugh quickly
"I hope that won't prevent her being a good aunt to you," mused
Eulalie, with restrained spite.
Hugh laughed, cheerily.
demanded that the intruder be forced to return to his own lawn.
As it was, she went out and attempted to "shoo" him off. But the
She looked him over critically.
Mr. Maclin recognized the dog as one belonging to the next door
neighbor; he had seen him earlier in the day digging in a bed of
Maclin supposed he ought not to mind a chewed-up doormat.
Mr. Maclin would have been glad to make the acquaintance of the
Thereafter the two bowed soberly when they chanced to meet, and
occasionally exchanged a casual remark concerning the weather.
"It's the dog biscuits I give him," Mr. Maclin explained,
confidentially.
"Oh," said Miss Clementina, "is he fond of them? I've always
considered meat much more nourishing."
Then, covered with confusion, he beat a hasty retreat. He hadn't
Miss Clementina's eyes seemed very wide indeed.
"Oh!" said Miss Clementina, and began to laugh.
"The little brown dog," said Miss Clementina, when Mr. Maclin had
"And I have whistled," said Mr. Maclin, "but he doesn't answer."
"I've a new doormat waiting for him," said Mr. Maclin. "Miss
Clementina, where _do_ you suppose he is?"
Mr. Maclin's whistle supplemented Miss Clementina's call, but the
"Tax?" questioned Miss Clementina.
"Yes, the dog tax, you know."
"I didn't know there was a dog tax," said Miss Clementina.
To Miss Clementina's mind the dog-catcher suggested awful
possibilities. "Oh!" she said, "what _can_ we do?"
"I suppose," went on the gentleman, "when he's digging in your
geranium bed he thinks he's _your_ dog, and when he's chewing my
"I--I don't know," faltered Miss Clementina.
Your little day flit on;
Youth drifts as gayly by,
And soon as you is gone.
Wayside flower,
Be darling of the day;
Youth shares your sunny hour,
And with you slips away.
Woodland bird,
Hush not one fervent strain;
Love's voice with yours is heard,
Then neither heard again.
animation. The corpselike season sat up and waved its hands. An
comedienne had no qualms.
pecuniary reward. Mr. Frohman, whose name is often unfortunately
Those who try to tar Mr. Frohman with the commercial brush will
readily perceive their error. Had Miss Tempest packed the Empire
Theater at every performance, the enormous expenses of this
undertaking could never have been defrayed. The manager did not
quiver. The actress--viewing the return of her countrymen, with
disillusion is not even a cloud as big as a man's hand.
The comedy was very light, and frolicsome, and jolly,
domestic graces. The curse has gone! It is the triumph of
deodorization.
Freedom of Suzanne" missed a rare treat.
In the last act of the play, _Suzanne_ and her husband were
Miss Tempest brought over her London leading man, Mr. Allan
entertainment was amply realized. "The Freedom of Suzanne" was a
delightful wind-up.
extinguish it.
Possibly you have heard of actors noted as wits, good fellows,
money's-worth-hungry assemblage known as the "general public" has
Of course she was bound to do it sooner or later. We may not have
Mr. Stange's play was an amusing comedy, dealing with domestic
playwright cannot improve upon the eighteenth century, with his
danced with the latest electric improvements, and their gyrations
Jeffreys-Goodfriend, Miss Fischer managed to beat any
conducted by such legitimate means that the event was unusually
interesting.
Criterion Theater with a Zangwill play. It sounds well, doesn't
it?--but I can assure you that the sound was most misleading.
Governess," thrust upon Miss Cecilia Loftus, was bad enough, but
The humor was supplied by the village dressmaker, who owned a
anticipated success.
Miss Annie Russell, a sterling little artist, deserved all our
sympathy. It was sad to see her in these surroundings, battling
against the inevitable. Miss Russell can succeed with far less
The Hippodrome was such a stupendous affair, and its opening took
entertainment that in its native land has begun to languish.
plausible. It had novelty, sensational features and a superb
equipment. In addition to all this, there was a wonderful aquatic
horses and riders, as they swam across in the pursuit of their
dramatic story.
second.
style, but with none of his lightness of touch.
It was almost impossible to follow the grotesque proceedings, and
This strange affair took us back to old times, when we were less
Although "The Heir to the Hoorah" was freighted with a title so
prohibitive that people who attach importance to names might be
It was very droll. _Dave Lacy_, _Bud Young_, _Mr. Kelly_, _Bill
restaurant waiter, has rarely been more humorously attacked. This
served to put an audience in such a good humor that the somewhat
prospect. There was no "pose" in the humor at the Hudson Theater.
understand, you can always ascribe to the "psychological."
melodrama, was the white-muslin girl with the Vassar mis-label.
Behold it has been given to me
To know the secrets of the sea,--
Its magic and its mystery!
And though, alas, I may not reach
The clear communicable speech
Of men, communing each with each,
I have such wonderment to tell,
Such marvel and such miracle,
I needs must strive to break the spell.
Hence do I murmur ceaselessly;
And could one but translate me, he
Might speak the secrets of the sea!
Two recent books that deal with a theme familiar enough to novel
readers, but always stimulating. "The Garden of Allah," by
Charles Carey's "The Van Suyden Sapphires" a good detective
story. Other books.
merits, for they afford some material for reflection upon the
approximately the same time.
genuine and permanent representatives of English literature.
disregarding.
A man devoted to celibacy, by vows voluntarily made to the church
interest that is never wholly satisfied; it suggests all sorts of
People will differ about what a man's duty is under such
consistency, possibly "a hobgoblin to little minds," but,
Whatever the outcome of the conflict between conscience and
It is the story of the evolution of a young priest from an
Father Everett embraced the priesthood and committed himself by
unnecessary multiplicity of physiological details.
construction--if indeed it is an art and not a science.
It is a little bit uncertain as to whether or not Mr. Carey
intentionally emphasizes Miss Bramblestone's rather abnormal
It is as good an example of the peculiar fascination exercised by
These four form the nucleus of the plot, and have to do with the
portraits drawn from our own acquaintance; more's the pity.
intense lights thrown upon them.
conventionally-brought-up young persons who have not her
absorbing in its interest.
The two volumes are the first of a series which the
mystery and humor."
They are happily named, for they are small volumes, which can be
conveniently slipped into the pocket and read at odd times.
The only unpleasant feature of "The Caldron and the Ruby" is that
attracted to the new colony, the constant state of alarm from the
"The Ravanels," published by Lippincott, is a characteristically
Southern tale; Southern in setting, in character and in action.
Whether justly or not--probably not--it is more or less widely
Assistant: Sure, a continuation for this poem could be:
  Stephen Ravanel, the hero and a scion of a distinguished Southern