human
Can you continue this poem for me?
  Soon after Mrs. Ponsonby died and Simeon married Deena.
She didn't particularly want to marry him, but then, on the other
He was a just man but close, and the stipend he gave his wife for
At the end of two years, when she was twenty-two, a ripple of
excitement came into her life; another Shelton girl married, and
caused even greater relief to her family than had Deena, for she
Minthrop, she became the belle of the season, and almost a
But one day all this admirable monotony came to an end quite
"What a fright you make of yourself," she exclaimed; "and yet, I
Stephen French, who was to make the fourth in the automobile, was
She opened the bedroom door, and dragged in a huge box, which she
looking-glass, a face of character and spirit, in spite of its
regularity.
"Where is your hat?" she demanded.
Polly took it out of her hand.
"Of course, you cannot wear _that_ with your hair done in the new
"I'll do the wrecking for you, if that's all you want," came from
Stephen conveyed his thanks.
"Turn round and see whether you dropped them in the road."
"Dropped what?" asked Ben, his hand on the lever, making a black
semicircle.
"Your manners," said Stephen, and chuckled again.
safety compared to this automobile."
Deena, laughing though embarrassed, was trying to cover the
countenance that provoked the discussion with a veil, for her hat
scholar; the purity of his scientific ambition, the patience with
swimming in tears--all women were not Penelopes.
"Of course she won't mind; why should she?" he decided, and yet
determined to put off making his announcement till after lunch.
counterbalances the results in old-fashioned judgment.
handkerchief and invited Deena to sit down.
Stephen saw his opportunity to make his communication, and said,
quickly:
Deena colored with pleasure.
"Let him throw over his classes in the cause of science," said
Stephen, with excitement. "Why, such a book as Simeon would write
"It is too bad we haven't a little more money."
Deena's face grew crimson and then paled. She felt an emotion she
obliterated self.
Stephen's voice broke in upon her reverie.
"Have I depressed you, Mrs. Ponsonby?"
It was six o'clock when the auto stopped at Deena's door.
"I wish she had shown a little more emotion at his going," was
Stephen's reflection as he helped her out, forgetting how he had
dreaded any evidence of distress; but he only said:
something quite unimportant.
"All aboard, French!" shouted Ben--and they were gone.
crisis was impending in her life.
For the first time he would see her at her best; might not her
prettiness--bah! the thought disgusted her! That she, a typical,
The Ponsonby house was two stories high, built of wood and set a
The door of the study was half open, and Simeon sat at his desk
reading proof; one of his many contributions to a scientific
"Hardly in your right mind, I should think," he said, coldly.
"Don't you like me in my new clothes?" she asked, twirling slowly
"And who furnished you with the hat?" he asked, insultingly.
expressed in every line of her retreating figure.
"I--I don't know," faltered Deena, struggling with her emotion.
Deena went for a moment into the open air while she steadied her
"Who asked him?" demanded Simeon, and Deena, too proud to put the
feelings; he hardly looked at her as he said:
French will be an unwelcome interruption."
A moment later she heard Stephen arrive, and the study door shut
behind him.
sensitive like a child's--drooped a little in recollection of her
"I have been telling your husband of what I hinted to you this
"It is no secret, then!" said Simeon, contemptuously, and added,
She grew scarlet, but managed to murmur a word of acquiescence.
The servant was much in the room, and the talk turned on the
progressive spirit of Argentina, its railroads, its great natural
between the men, for Simeon addressed himself exclusively to
Deena sat sewing till Stephen came to bid her good-night.
assistant
Sure, a continuation for this poem could be:
  He took off his spectacles and sat up.
"You will see the president to-morrow?" she asked.
As she laid her head on her pillow, she thought:
Simeon was gone--gone with his clothes packed in the sole leather
The house was rented to Mrs. Barnes, the mother of the too ardent
attorney which was to make her free of his bank account should
The faculty made no objection to Simeon's going; indeed, his
researches were thought likely to redound to the high scientific
insignificance as compared with the morning news, still dared not
port--Rio? Then from Rio, and as often as you can."
She came a step nearer and laid her hand on his arm.
Simeon waved his hand, and even leaned far out from the carriage
place. Her family had urged her to marry Simeon, and he was now
throwing her back upon her family, and her dignity was hurt.
"When were you in South America, Mr. French?" and he laughed and
declared himself a fraud.
somehow he put new courage into her heart.
Her servant brought her something to eat on a tray--women left to
She sat up suddenly with a heightened color and shining eyes, and
She finally selected a song of the Gloucester fishermen she had
Before all this was accomplished, her servant had gone to bed and
Her family paid her flying visits during the day, with a freedom
writing, this time steering clear of the personal note that had
brought such swift reprisal the night before. The occupation was
"Next week," she said, sadly. "I shall be sorry to leave here."
"I haven't felt lonely," she said, "because I have been writing a
"It is very creditable," he said. "It fairly glows with vitality.
He drew a chair for her beside his own, and began making a rapid
grateful.
"You advise me to destroy it?" she asked.
"For money," she answered.
"Simeon is very generous," she said, loyally, silent as to the
Deena shook her head, and French stood hesitating near the door,
"Thank you very much," she murmured, "it is quite impossible."
prude.
Undoubtedly the refusal was prudent, whether Mrs. Ponsonby were a
certainly too shabby to grace one of Stephen's beautiful little
dinners, which were the pride of Harmouth.
When affairs of a family once begin to stir, they seem unable to
flutter of interest in the Shelton home circle; with Mr. Shelton,
"Mary," he said, "here is a telegram."
stretched out her hand for the yellow envelope.
The magnetic heart of a mother is almost as invariably set to the
The telegram said:
Mrs. Thomas Beck's funeral will take place on Thursday
It was dated Chicago, and signed "Herbert Beck."
It was Mr. Shelton's turn to flush, but he only said, irritably:
approaching, arrived within an hour. She begged her cousin's
And so it happened that when Mr. French called, as was his daily
custom, to take his last cup of tea with Mrs. Ponsonby before her
Bridget now came forward and addressed French.
threats as he walked.
"Just you wait! We'll see--you think I won't tell, but I will!"
quickly redeem his promise, and dispatch his young companion home
It was a most cheerful interior. The staircase, wide and
welcome each arrival.
extremely plain.
Stephen felt genuine alarm; he was unused to children.
"He is a very distinguished man," Stephen replied, in an agony of
"The tray is in the library, sir," and all thought of Simeon was
abandoned.
supported him through the disappointments of many a dessertless
And still he gazed
And still the wonder grew
That one small boy
Could hold all he could chew.
He pulled a very dirty handkerchief from his pocket, in order to
"I know just how you felt," said Stephen, with irony.
finishing grimy knot he tossed responsibility to the winds.
yourself."
It was evident that young Mr. Beck wished to carry out his aunt's
possessions held in common almost as much as their individual
In the midst of these excitements Deena received a letter the
Montevideo, which he described with the ponderous minuteness of a
correspondence.
But what a difference there was in the letters; Deena's had three
flowed so fast they couldn't get themselves written down--he used
another.
Deena recognized her place in her husband's estimation when she
The mere fact of being able to exchange letters with Deena was a
DEAR FRENCH: When I asked you to spend Christmas with us in
Boston I had no idea that, like the Prophet Habbacuc, I, with my
dinner pail, was to be lifted by the hair of my head, and
transported to Babylon--in other words, New York. But so it is!
If you know your Apocrypha, this figurative language will seem
apt, but in case you should like my end of it explained I will
leave the mystifications of Bel and the Dragon and come down to
plain speech.
My father has conceived the idea that I am one of the dawning
lights in the financial world, and he has decided to open a
branch office of our business in New York and to put me at its
head. I must confess that the whole thing is very pleasant and
flattering, and it has stirred all the decent ambitions I
have--that I have any I owe to you, old fellow--and I am rather
keen to be off.
We have taken a house not far from the park in East Sixty-fifth
Street, where a welcome will always be yours, and where Polly
and I hope you will eat your Christmas dinner.
Perhaps you may reflect that it is a serious thing to befriend
straying men and dogs; they are apt to regard past kindness as a
guarantee of future interest in their welfare. I do not believe,
however, that I am making too large a demand upon your
friendship in asking for your good wishes in this pleasant turn
to my future affairs.
Of course I want one more favor. If you have any influence with
Deena Ponsonby, will you urge her to spend the winter with us?
Polly is writing to her by this same mail, but I know the New
England conscience will suggest to Deena that anything amusing
is wrong, and so you might explain that I am nervous about
Polly's health, and that I look to her to help me get settled
without overstrain to my wife--in short, administer a dose of
duty, and she may see her way to coming.
Ever, my dear French,
Sincerely yours,
gunpowder ran out of the great Panjandrum's boots when he played
mastery. Not for one moment would he tolerate disloyalty to his
French was a man who had been brought up to respect ceremonial in
honorable man and a gentleman, and could keep his secret as many
another had done before him; and that if Deena went away for the
There was to be a lecture at the Athenæum that evening on the
request. He took glory to himself for choosing an hour when Mrs.
Ponsonby was likely to be surrounded by a bevy of brothers and
sisters; he would never again try to see her alone.
"Come down, Mrs. Ponsonby. It is I--Stephen French--and I have
something to say to you."
"Go down, Deena; you don't look a bit _funny_--really."
sunbursts and a star.
"I say, Mr. French, mustn't she have been sort of loony to wear a
"Who?" asked French, completely mystified.
"You have something to tell me?"
Stephen pulled himself together.
She sank back in her chair and, forgetting herself for a moment,
allowed her eyes to meet his with a merry smile.
York--why should you and Ben suppose I do not like to do pleasant
excitement and the fun--I am perfectly mad to go!"
self-deceiver, and made a grasp at the good resolutions that had
almost escaped him.
"On the contrary, every reason why you should; but I feared some
expenses till the bank breaks," and she tapped her forehead to
indicate from whence the supply flowed.
A troubled look came into her face.
because we are proud and do not wish to incur obligations."
The _we_ was a masterpiece of loyalty, and French was suitably
impressed by it.
chapter of self-discipline. In this interview, at least, he had
preserved a conscience void of offense, and he hastened to say
For the benefit of an admiring gallery at the head of the stairs,
punishment.
"If I were an old bag of bones like brother Simeon," he said,
grinning, "I shouldn't care to have good-lookin' fellows like Mr.
Deena had always been the tenderest of elder sisters, but at this
paling with anger, she rushed at her brother and pulled his ruddy
_you're_ crying for, anyhow?"
Deena left the room, her face buried in her handkerchief, but she
Every day brought a fresh suggestion covered by a check. Ben was
Deena would have been more than mortal if the image of old Mrs.
affection.
Polly arrived one bleak December day, the week before Christmas,
escorted by Mrs. Minthrop and two maids, and was met at the Grand
easy-going nature. He altered his orders half a dozen times as to
rebellious and sad; not that she wanted any of the luxury that
Life in the young Minthrops' dovecote soon settled down into a
"Oh, yes, there is a husband," the great Mrs. Star admitted. "She
absence surprisingly well, doesn't she? Old Mrs. Minthrop's son
Deena's beauty. Her clothes were good, and she wore them like a
princess.
One evening late in January, Deena and Ben were dining with a gay
hardly be concealed during dinner. As soon as the ladies left the
Deena started forward in alarm.
milk--but just wait till she comes to pay for it!"
incubators and their weighing machines and their charts and their
Deena burst into a hearty laugh.
"My dear Mrs. Star," she said, "I am a convert."
Mrs. Star wagged her head in approbation.
"Just tell your sister what I have said, will you?" she pursued,
At this point they were joined by the gentlemen, and as soon as
interesting subject--so inspiring. Milliken"--to the footman, who
There was a strange break in his voice, as if he were trying to
restrain the rush of happiness.
"Fancy meeting you here!" she kept repeating, the stupid phrase
concealing the great joy that was puzzling her conscience.
How pleasant it was to hear his kind voice, with its good-natured
"Who is your aunt?" she asked, abruptly.
"Mrs. Star," he answered. "Don't you see the family likeness?"
"I never shall again," she said, sadly. "Your greatest charm is
eclipsed by this luxury--I want you to belong to Harmouth only."
Stephen's lips were twitching with suppressed amusement.
"There is a proverb, my dear lady," he said, "of the pot and the
"Simeon," she said, faintly. "You are right; Simeon might not
dignified, self-respecting, high-minded women I ever knew."
Mrs. Star cut him short with a wave of her fan.
They had both had letters from Simeon, now safely arrived in the
Straits of Magellan. He had written to Deena when they first cast
In the midst of this earnest conversation, Mrs. Star rose to go,
"Didn't he tell you that they were all going guanaco hunting?"
"_Simeon!_" in a tone of incredulity.
"Sport is a cruel thing," she said, shuddering. "I am glad Simeon
propensities, and treated him as the high cockalorum of the whole
"Surely he is joking," she said. "Simeon is making game of you."
"Simeon!" he echoed, mimicking her incredulous tone.
"And why not Simeon, pray?" asked Stephen, slightly nettled.
"I haven't half finished my story, Mrs. Ponsonby," he protested.
French's visit to New York was not the result of any weakening
These thoughts passed through his mind the morning after their
Minthrops' for luncheon at half-past one. The first, if properly
_Tintoretto_ on its way home. Ponsonby missing.
Stephen went back to his own room conscious of no emotion except
particulars.
conversation.
"At all events, I left him safely surrounded by friends," he
said--more in answer to his own feelings than her banter.
company.
Deena took exception to his remark.
She would like Simeon back! What wouldn't French give to know her
thoughts had been diverted from Patagonia to Polly's sofa, and he
nothing to hope and everything to fear.
freedom, for the next moment he was conscious of a wave of shame.
"Goose!" said Deena, laying an affectionate hand on his shoulder.
Ben recovered himself with a fit of irritation, which seems the
corollary to being frightened.
He was about to turn and rend her for what he considered an
"Dear Stevie," she said, "be good-natured and bear an old woman
company--you know you are as dear as my own sons."
"Bob!" she said, contemptuously. "He never voluntarily went to a
companion."
French's heart tightened as he thought of the horror that stood
safeguards, for they kill more than they rescue."
automobile.
"At least let him tell you whether your knee is seriously hurt,"
Stephen whispered, loath to see the medical help departing.
"Well, it isn't seriously injured," she said, perversely. "I have
However much the rest of the party may have been inconvenienced,
The second cable from Lopez arrived soon after dinner; it brought
Strayed from party while hunting. Weather turned foggy. Search
parties persevered for two weeks. Hope abandoned. Expedition
homeward bound.
"Then I must see Mr. Minthrop," French insisted.
The man hesitated and then relaxed his wooden expression.
"I beg your pardon, Mr. French. I did not recognize you, sir. The
clothes were airing.
"He is part of an exquisite picture," he answered.
At the library door Stephen paused to whisper to Ben:
returned, but it was not like French to be touchy.
"Simeon is lost," he said, hoarsely, hurling the bald fact at her
He shook his head.
He longed for a word from her, but none came.
Stephen bore her reproaches with a meekness that exasperated her.
"Deena," he said, not even knowing he had used her name, "do you
really want me to go on this hopeless errand? Think of its utter
uselessness--the time that has elapsed, the impossibility of
"Hush," he said, "you have said enough--I will go."
Having gained her point, she burst into tears.
"Perhaps," she went on, half to herself, "perhaps if I had been a
between them a cry of anguish burst from her very soul.
At his words her conscience woke with a stab of shame.
intimation of invalidism, she gave an angry groan.
"I will take the yacht off your hands," said Stephen, casually.
"Ah! did you?" she said, laughing wickedly. "Poor Uriah has been
She had the grace to look ashamed.
"I will take the yacht, and pay for it," said French. "As for the
From March to May Mrs. Star's great ocean-going yacht had steamed
On his way down he had stopped at Buenos Ayres, where he provided
expedition, and secured Simeon's personal effects left on the
_Tintoretto_, together with his diary, scientific memoranda and
invaluable allies, especially the captain, whose topographical
greeting, two of them advanced at a gallop. One spoke fairly good
Guanacos in large numbers had been seen on the plains to the
northwest, whereas the Indian camp lay to the northeast, and
At the end of four days the horse he had ridden came into camp
Ponsonby's, they gave up in despair.
astonishment gave way to alarm when he recognized an old checked
cutaway of Simeon's, which had done service for many a winter at
His condition was pitiable; from an injury to the spine he was a
emaciated, probably from the lack of palatable food, and his
expression was vacant.
"Can he live?"
The doctor temporized. Mr. Ponsonby had rallied wonderfully; his
Here Stephen interrupted him.
"Great God, man! Can't you answer a plain question. Yes or no?"
French nodded toward the door, and turned his back.
That night he relieved the doctor's watch by sitting up with his
"Stephen, I want to see Deena."
French's heart began thumping like the screw of his yacht. How he
"So you shall, old man; just as quickly as steam can carry you to
A look of satisfaction came into the tired eyes.
"It will be a race with death," he said, "but perhaps--thank you,
With Deena the spring moved drearily. Her position was strangely
failed.
Have found Simeon. Desperately ill. On our way home.
The lot of women is to wait, and they do it under a pressure of
Her mother said:
And her father added:
"You must not be so impatient, Deena; it is mighty nasty sailing
through West Indian waters, and a boat of that size doesn't carry
"I know it; hold ye your peace."
The middle of June had passed, the fourth week of the voyage had
roused her. She waked with a beating heart; wheels stopped in the
A glow from the first blush of day caught her as she stood in the
"Simeon----" she began, but her voice failed.
Stephen's haggard eyes softened.
"I forgot to ask you to come in," she said, "or whether you want
anything I can get you? But it doesn't matter, does it? All that
matters is to do Simeon's bidding. I shall be very quick."
misunderstanding, and Stephen's aloofness frightened her. Did he
apparent--red and white awnings were stretched over the deck. All
brilliant scene mocked the tragedy within.
impatient, for the message.
"Oh, Simeon," she gasped, "how you have suffered! I am so sorry!"
He moved his hand feebly and patted her shoulder, and she, in a
passion of pity, carried it to her lips. For the first time she
The querulousness with which he began the sentence melted into a
rallying smile.
"Oh, no," she said, "I am not afraid. I am too sorry to be
frightened."
"There is a bell, in case you want to summon the doctor," he
Deena's tears came, dripping plentifully over her clasped hands.
His face lit up eagerly--the topic was congenial.
miserable outcome."
"It isn't miserable!" Simeon answered, almost fiercely. "In many
that." And then he added, more gently: "Not that it could be
considered as an achievement without French's aid."
"He has sacrificed everything to me--his ambitions--his time--his
"He has high ideals in friendship as in everything else," she
A sort of shiver passed over him, while he said, simply:
She kissed him with a pity that wrung her heart, and he sighed
Master Richard Shelton sat at the foot of his sister's table
dispensing its hospitalities chiefly to himself. Through some law
For eighteen months Master Shelton had given Mrs. Ponsonby the
paternal authority.
nerves, and the nurse who had been engaged for Simeon found ample
higher things, for his conduct called for constant repression. At
"May I take a bunch of grapes to school, Deena?"
Deena's complexion flushed a lively pink, or else it was the
"It is time for you to go to school," said Deena, shortly.
"Those of my brothers-in-law will suit me just as well," he said,
He left the room singing in a quavering treble:
I'll pray for you when on the stormy ocean
With love's devotion. That's what I'll do.
This carefully guarded secret would be public property by her own
to-day--certainly not to-day--she reflected.
sailing. He wrote:
May I come back? You must know all I mean that to imply--to come
back, my best beloved, to you--to order my life in accordance to
your pleasure--to marry you the day I set foot in Harmouth--or
to wait impatiently till you are pleased to give yourself to me.
I trust your love too entirely to fear that you will needlessly
prolong the time. You are too fair-minded to let mere
conventions weigh with you as against my happiness. Between you
and me there must be no shams, and yet I would not shock or
hurry you for the world.
On second thoughts, I shall not wait for your permission to
return--that is not the best way to gain one's desires! No, I
shall come before you can stop me, and while you are saying to
yourself, "Perhaps he is on the ocean," I may be turning in at
your gate.
"I have just been to see you, Mrs. Ponsonby, and was so much
Deena had by this time recognized Mrs. Star, and recovered
sufficiently from her surprise to take the offered seat in the
Mrs. Star's eyes softened.
"Because Stephen wouldn't stop long enough in New York for me to
"I don't account for it."
As Mrs. Star saw fit to leave her undisturbed, it would be sheer
presumption for a humble person like the writer to disregard that
Most women of twenty-four have had some experience of love as a
Certainly I did not.
"Want one?" she asked, saucily dangling a cherry at us.
"Yes, but rather pretty," said I.
"Yes," I agreed. "I like brown ones myself."
"You bet she knows it, too," he added, vindictively. "Conceited
beggars, these girls."
expression.
"Her name is Rosie," this was the substance of the stammered
introduction.
"Come on," he said; "I guess we'd better be going."
Very frankly Rosie looked her opinion of me as we left. It was
"Oh, she's not like the rest of them. She's rather jolly."
"Conceited little beggar, though, I suppose?"
Such were the beginnings of this tremendous affair.
accustomed to whistle with more vigor than accuracy gave place to
Sitting in the sacred hush of the moonlight, we had long talks on
"Rosie? What Rosie?" said he.
"Why, the one who gave you the cherries."
"Chilly?" said I.
"She's calling you," said I.
"Think of whom?"
"You young scamp!" I exclaimed. Visions of an ambitious and angry
"Yep, we are. But no one is to know of it until I've graduated."
Interesting news for me, wasn't it? Well, by means of discreet
deception and the use of such diplomacy as would have settled a
sentimentalist: "It is on the deep pages of the heart that Youth
writes indelibly its salutary to Cupid."
knowledge.
"Indeed!" Then I added, anxiously: "And what of Rosie?"
"Why, the one who gave you the cherries."
I gave to love the fairest rose
That in my garden grew;
And still my heart its fragrance knows--
Does he remember, too?
He laid his dreams upon my day,
His kisses on my mouth,
I woke, to find him flown away
With summer to the south.
Love's vagrant step once more to greet,
My garden blooms in vain;
The roses of the south are sweet--
Love will not come again!
The roses of the south are sweet--
Love will not come again!
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
The latter finally succeeds in his wish so far as to receive an
strengthens his resolution to succeed. For assistance he turns to
before.
Nevertheless, having now become hopelessly in love with Anita, he
He makes the startling discovery that Langdon is the person
postponing the catastrophe.
humbled me. "I must be very gentle," said I to myself. "I have
"I wish we could," said I.
"Not too reasonable, please," said I, with an attempt at her
"To-night," I persisted. "We must be married to-night. No more
"To-morrow," she said. "But not to-night. I must think it over."
She shook her head, and I saw that the struggle between us had
"Another reason why we're not going to your uncle's," said I.
"It _is_ too late--too late to go back."
"I tell you I cannot marry you," she cried, between appeal and
misunderstand," said I to myself. "She would think you were
weakening."
I called my partner's address up through the tube. Again that
proprietor agreed. "Now we're done," said Joe to me. "Let's go
downtown, and maybe I can pick up what I've dropped."
The appearance of the man who opened the door for Anita and me
suggested that our ring had roused him from a bed where he had
accompanied, stopped with mouth ajar. He had on a ragged smoking
slovenliness which it called "comfort." Joe was crimson with
inaudible acknowledgment of Joe's greeting.
pretended to be, and as discontented as they deserved.
"Oh, yes, Mrs. B.'s at home," Joe answered. "I guess she and Alva
wedding--right here." And I looked round the long salon, with
disappeared.
A wait, during which we could hear through the silence excited
undertones from the upper floors. The words were indistinct until
Anita started up. "Oh--please--please!" she cried. "Take me
away--anywhere! This is dreadful."
It was, indeed, dreadful. If I could have had my way at just that
She sank helplessly into her chair.
"Mrs. Ball," said I, "this is Miss Ellersly."
"I didn't catch the name, my dear," Joe stammered.
Anita looked as if she were about to suffocate. Allie came to the
minutes?"
"Oh, thank you," responded Anita, after a quick but thorough
"No doubt, Joe has made me out a very vulgar person," said I,
forgetting her lack of sense of humor.
"How far off is the nearest church?" I cut in.
lessons?"
"up-to-date on culture and all that sort of thing." They hired a
incident."
At the end, when I kissed her cheek, she said: "Is it over?"
She stared at him with great wondering eyes. Her form relaxed. I
tranquilly at everyone--except me.
"Oh, but surely you'll stay for supper!" cried Joe's wife.
"We are going home," said I.
"We are going home," I repeated. "To the Willoughby."
"I wish to go to my uncle's," she repeated.
"My wife will go with me," said I, quietly and gently. "I am
considerate of her, not of _her_ unwise impulses."
you--live for you, die for you. But there's that something inside
"We shall see--to-morrow," she said.
A long, long silence, the electric speeding southward under the
At the Willoughby she let me help her descend from the electric,
acknowledged his welcome with that regard for "appearances" which
"You've done noble," said I, and I shook hands with him warmly.
"Anything I can do--ma'am--sir?" asked Sanders.
"Nothing--except send my maid as soon as she comes," she replied.
"I shan't need you," said I.
"Mr. Monson is still here," he said, lingering. "Shall I send him
"I'll speak to him myself in a moment," I answered.
"Shall I bring Monson?" I asked. "You know, he's my--factotum."
"_I_ do not wish to see him," she answered.
"You do not like him?" said I.
After a brief hesitation she answered, "No."
"He goes at the end of his month," said I.
She colored high, paled. I saw that she did not intend to speak.
She did not answer.
I left the room, closing the door behind me. I paused an instant,
"Give me the facts--clergyman's name--place, and so on," said he.
With an irritating show of deliberation he lit a fresh cigarette
"Why don't you ease down, Blacklock?" he went on. "Everything's
haven't had the time to get ready for a trip."
unpleasant duty to him.
It made Joe uneasy for me even to talk of using my "language"--he
public, the Textile crowd rocketed the stock yesterday. Those who
I raised my voice slightly as I went on: "The speculators, the
leaving them to mutter and disperse. I felt well content with the
No doubt, my marriage had something to do with this. Probably one
I waited with a good deal of anxiety, as you may imagine, for the
chanced upon was a mere wordy elaboration of the brief and vague
Indeed, what alternative had I? To put it among the future's
personal relations which are governed by the affections, what is
operations, great and small; operations regarded as right through
I followed her into the drawing room and, for the benefit of the
"You must stop and make me a visit," protested I, with elaborate
"I wish we could," she answered, in her best manner. And she was
moving toward the door, the old man in her wake. Neither of them
offered to shake hands with me; neither made pretense of saying
"Whenever you usually have it," she replied, without looking up.
She was only formally responsive, reluctant and brief in answers,
hostile again.
"No, no," she interrupted; "I don't really mind cigars--and the
windows are wide open. Besides, I came for only a moment--just to
I waited.
"She said: 'In a few days more he'--that meant you--'he will be
"They!" I repeated. "Who are 'they'? The Langdons?"
"Well," said I, "and why didn't you go?"
"You believed what she said about me, of course," said I.
refused to go."
"But you misunderstand it," she said, coldly.
Roebuck's.
This is the window where, one day,
I watched him as he came,
When all the world was white with May,
And vibrant with his name.
His eyes to mine, my eyes to his--
Oh lad, how glad were we,
What time I leaned to catch the kiss
Your fingers tossed to me!
This is the window where, one day,
I crouched to see him go,
When all the world with wrath was gray
And desolate with snow.
Oh, this the glass where prophet-wise
My fate I needs must spell;
Through this I looked on Paradise,
Through this I looked on Hell.
The author of the following essay on "Americans in London" is
one of the most distinguished of the leaders of English Society.
She is the daughter of Sir Sanford Freeling, who was for a time
military secretary at Gibraltar. Her husband, Sir Arthur
Willshire, was an officer in the Guards. Lady Willshire, in
addition to her social activities, is, without ostentation, a
woman whose charities occupy a large part of her time. In
appearance she is over middle height, rather fragile, with great
charm of manner. She is an accomplished musician and linguist.
Her favorite recreations are riding, driving and bicycling, and
she is looked upon as the best dancer in London Society.
In ten years, however, amazing changes can and do take place,
interesting.
influence.
Now, influence is one of those qualities that the American woman
popularity in England rests.
In no way that I know of has her influence been more sensibly and
vivacious tone to conversation.
learned, first, that which it seems every transatlantic sister is
woman's cheerful influence we are enjoying a sort of reformation.
We send our daughters even to a fashionable school in fashionable
Churchill--and Consuelo, the Dowager Duchess of Manchester.
American as the day on which they were presented as brides and
beauties at one of Queen Victoria's drawing-rooms.
favorite.
It was with their capable tongues, quite as much as with their
Until that time no American could boast the fact that she was the
When, a few months ago, a house-party for royalty was given at
Of all the three young duchesses, I think her youthful Grace of
Marlborough is far and away the most distinctly popular and
responsibilities, etc.
That Her Grace of Marlborough has a natural taste for splendid
surroundings is shown by her fondness for big Blenheim and the
marvelous luxury she has introduced into every part of that vast
American peeresses and guests.
parties, from there she goes with her husband and pretty young
Next after music, sport--fishing most especially--engages her
In spite of all her youth and beauty and charm, this fair
sister-in-law of the famous American artist, Charles Dana Gibson,
Chauncey or Lady Ross, who are prominent members of the younger
American colony.
Both of the last-mentioned fair women hail from the State of
opportunity at once and have developed it in a quite remarkable
fashion.
London society is made up of as many as ten different sets, all
To say that she is rather particularly famous as the best dressed
adopting their ideas of dress.
More and more each season does Paris send us the sort of gown and
A general impression, also, is prevailing to the effect that one
distinguished companies of the very fashionable and intellectual
decided and enviable celebrity, for Mrs. Ronalds is one of those
American women who possess a genius for hospitality.
unexpected and charming phase.
It is to Mrs. Paget, for example, that we are indebted for the
introduction of that purely American festivity, "The Ladies'
Yet it is safe to say that when the average Englishman marries an
attend, she shows small taste for the frivolities of that special
Vernon-Harcourt was to her distinguished husband.
We may, some of us, cherish high tariff principles and believe in
becoming as familiar and as welcome as it is admirable and
indispensable.
Miss Allys Rhett stood upon the clubhouse lawn, a vision in filmy
surrendered--horse, foot and dragoons. Rather he had held out for
Two or three of the millions had taken shape in the Bay Park, the
revive an old-time stake--the Far and Near. It dated back to that
course, set down a classic--as well it might be, all things
something narrower, but offset that by quadrupling the value.
overflowed the big stand, the lawn, the free field, and broken in
Allys gave him a long look. "Then you must take Heathflower," she
injured air.
"Blink Bonny! H'm! Who was he? What did he do?" Hilary asked.
"Why, Allys darling, I can hardly believe my ears! Here you are
"She does move like a winner--but it's impossible she can stay,"
somehow at sight of Hilary the human masses fell respectfully
houghs, the fine, clean bone of knees and ankles, the firm,
close-grained hoofs spreading faintly from coronet to base.
compassionately as he allotted it, muttering something about the
jockey club robbing the cradle and the grave--that poor old Major
The race was open to three-year-olds and upward, and run over a
"Yessum, dat's so!" Tim said.
Amos scowled at him, but said to Allys, respectfully: "Please'um,
better risked than kept."
"H'm! I hope you kept the price of a return ticket," Hilary said,
"My money's talkin' for me," Billy said, facing Hilary. "'Tain't
reason--tell me, does it wear frocks?"
betting ring.
Since she was very far from being a model young person, Hilary's
"I don't understand," Allys returned.
Billy looked at her in surprise.
standin' like a little lamb----"
Allys pressed Billy's arm--it was all she could do to show her
"Say yes, Miss Allys," Billy entreated. "You ain't trustin' to my
quicker even thus early in the race.
There were open lengths all along--the lightweights were bent on
making it a runaway race. Billy knew they could never do it. A
distinction in staying all the way.
leaders might, they got no further away from her.
Now she had no thought of him--her eyes were only for the course,
How they lay down to it! How they came up!
A hundred yards from the wire, whips still flying, rowels plowing
either side of her, almost let in daylight between.
"I don't know about that--but I reckon you won't go," Billy said,
Adair caught Hilary on the other side, saying under breath: "Hold
anyway, the judges saw--what we did."
As the Flower was led away to receive other flowers, the hideous
And this was what he shouted: "The blood of Blink Bonny! Hurrah!
married.
Love, does my love with weary burden fall
Daily upon thy too accustomed ear
With words so oft repeated that the dear,
Sweet tones of early joy begin to pall?
What gift of loving may I give to call
Again to your deep eyes of brown the tear
Of welling, full delight and love, the clear,
Rose-petaled blush that holds my heart in thrall?
Not all the homage of the bees that wing
Laden with honey through the clover days
Wearies the tiny queen with heavy tune!
Not all the rapture of the birds that fling
Love melodies adrift through leafy ways
Burdens the mothers on their nests in June!
It was the queerest turnout that ever invaded Smyrna Corner.
Sometimes he dropped vague hints that he might start on the road
The May dusk became tawny in the west, and he gazed out into it
discontentedly.
"Crack 'em down, gents! The old army game!"
Old horse Joe is ever faithful,
We've been--o-o-o--wide world over,
Then a medley of dronings, and finally these words were lustily
A bet-tur friend than old horse Joe.
"Whoa, there! Whup!" screamed the parrot, swinging by one foot.
The man under the chaise top pricked up his ears and cast a
significant look at the plug hat on the platform. Plug hat on the
sniffing of his nose and a crinkling of eyebrows, and at last set
"Who be I?" he demanded.
"You," he huskily ventured, "are Buck's Leviathan Circus and
He put up his hand, and the stranger took it for a solemn shake,
flinching at the same time.
"How long since?" pursued Buck.
"Thirty years for certain."
"I don't exactly recollect how the--the change came about," he
faltered.
He was eying the spoke in Buck's clutch.
"What did you steal her for, Brick Avery?"
Buck yanked away another spoke in his vehemence.
"Don't you lie to me," he bawled. "There wasn't telegraphs and
"It's the old army game, gents!"
"Hadn't you just as soon tear pickets off'n the fence there, or
listen to a lot more of that comforting talk.
"Avery," he cried, with a heartiness that surprised even himself,
"Crack 'em down, crack 'em down, gents!" squalled the parrot.
"If it wasn't for Elkanah, there, to holler that to me, with an
occasional 'Hey, Rube!' I couldn't stay in this Godforsaken place
something!"
To the astonishment of Smyrna Corner, two plug hats, around which
"Crack 'em down, gents! The old army game!"
Before a month had passed the two had so thoroughly renewed their
specialty people and privilege speculators, who wanted to join a
The letters came in bundles--letters long, short, earnest and
But in the midst of these innocent attempts to alleviate _ennui_
something else came along beside letters. It was a woman--a slim,
"It's Her!" gasped Plug Avery.
"It's Signory Rosy-elly!" choked Plug Avery.
"It was the longest time before I could place those names," she
chattered. "'Buck & Avery, Consolidated Aggregation,' says I to
She jocosely poked them again.
breast dramatically and shot a thumb out at Avery.
"We never got married," replied the two, in mournful duet.
Avery sighed.
"He's got fifty thousand dollars in the bank," hoarsely whispered
"Uh-huh! Correct!" corroborated Buck, surveying her in increasing
"Crack 'em down, gents!" remarked Elkanah, grimly.
Buck cast a malevolent look at the bird, and then, his cigar
impossibility:
"I want to know! Breach of promise, I per-sume!"
"Good aim! You've rung the bell," rejoined the lady, coolly.
Several villagers across the road were gaping at the scene. She
"What are you going to do?" asked Plug Avery.
"So you're bound to go to court?"
reflection, knuckling his forehead.
"Seems as if," he went on, slowly, "she told me you called her
Buck got up, kicked his chair off onto the ground, and in choler
uncontrollable, clacked his fists under Avery's nose and barked:
platform in my own home place and face the people afterward. I
Avery came back after two hours and loomed in the dusk before the
"I ain't responsible for what I'm saying, Avery," pleaded Buck,
Then the two plug hats bent together in earnest conference.
He was to pay over the money on the neutral ground at the shire,
receive the letters, put her aboard a train and then come back
For two days a solitary and bereaved plug hat on the emporium's
influenced, the third might be fatal. Moreover, the conscience of
FOR SALE--1 Band Wagon, 1 Swan Chariot, 3 Lion Cages.
original plug hat's attention.
Ivory looked up at Elkanah vindictively and then resumed his
soliloquy.
It was an evil scowl that flashed up from under the plug hat, but
I think I'm the only one of the crew she dragged at her heels who
Jack Drayton, by rights, ought to have been poisoned. He'd be the
insisted on having things out the moment they began, the things
There was a lot of that silly chuckle, and I recalled reading
"Let's talk, instead," she said, and she made me coffee in the
"Percy, have you seen the show at the Gaiety?" she asked.
I had seen it more than once, and I said so.
"They tell me there's a song there----" she went on.
"There are a lot of songs," said I.
"There's one in particular."
Of course, me for the clumsy speech. "She's a winner," I cut in.
"You meant what you said then, didn't you?"
"There is a husband," she went on, as if taking account of stock.
"I mean the Hartopp's husband," she explained.
"Yes," said I, all unthinking.
"Then we'll do it Friday," she said.
"We'll do what?" I asked, coming back to her. For once I felt
rebellious, and showed it, whereat she smiled.
"Supper after the theater at Cherry's."
"Oh, well, I don't mind that," I volunteered.
"With 'Boiler-plate' Hartopp," she added.
The searchlight dawned upon me. It swung around the room once or
resentment.
means-to-an-end being the Hartopp's husband, was simply a gift of
retaliation. Through it all, she had confidently counted on me, a
She could not know what Drayton might do, after they had eyed one
paretics, but I'm going to see it through."
The bruiser wasn't as bad sort as I had fancied him. He was an
festive accouterments with him. And he did.
There wasn't anything to do then, for they were fair inside.
"It was a lucky punch that put me out," he kept repeating, almost
corners.
"We'll box five rounds, Percy," he said.
drinking a bit.
fraction of a second, however, for a glove, with the _n_th power
He didn't move, and the "Boilerplate" stared at him stupidly.
"Boiler-plate" firmly, leading him to the door.
"Say, Maisie, wait a minute," he protested. "I've got the swell's
I opened the door, for she signaled with her eyes. "Come on, Jim,
"Extremely bad, sir," said he, touching his hat.
"But, Maisie, I've got the swell's college shirt on," I heard
"Boiler-plate" insist. Then the wheels moved.
The Draytons were both upon their feet when I stole back into the
"Good-night, Percy," Jack called out.
"It was coming to me," said Jack. I was fiddling on the threshold
And that is how I had my last supper with Natica.
"Jules," she said to the coachman, "you may drive to the park."
She did not look back as they drove away.
understand, she had ceased to expect that of him--but he would
"Jules," she said, summoning a little severity of manner to
opening the little gate, went in.
"Oh," she said, feeling as if she were speaking in a dream, "is
it--where did you come from?"
"It seems very natural to see you here," he said.
"Yes. I have been home only a few days--I don't wonder you are
"Am I not an old friend?" she asked. "Why have you not been to
"My baby died," she said.
"I know--I heard of it--I knew how keenly you could suffer. But I
There was a moment's silence between them.
"Tell me of yourself," she said, quietly, at length.
"There is little to tell. My life is very much the same. I have
neither wife nor child. Until a man finds those, he's a most
indifferent topic."
"You have never married?" she asked.
"No," she said, "I did not know."
accustomed to play there--the lot is shady and close to the
"No, thank you," she said, rising. "Yes, it is chillier."
Her fingers sought the latch absently.
"Oh, Rob, how lovely!" and off she flew.
After a moment spent in the happy digestion of this delightful
Robert loathed all theatergoing. The mere physical restraint was
morbidly fond of the theater had long been his heaviest cross.
chattering merrily the while:
Once, between the second and third acts, Helen asked Robert for a
laughingly refused to let him read. It was all that was needed to
"It's all up with your side of the Perry case! The evidence in
rebuttal will knock you higher than Haman. I've just got hold of
woman?---a life to which he had no latchkey?
children----" But the thought of little Betty hushed even his mad
One morning a question of law came up at the office that made it
expedient that one of the firm should go at once to Washington to
"Helen, where are you?"
"Here I am, Rob, in the library."
He stood frozen stiff for an instant, as his legal experience
Although her attitude was one of rather sleepy repose, there were
things.
Helen sat watching him in surprise--not an altogether genuine
"Dear, what is it? What is wrong?"
coaxing, pouting, begging him to give it to her--unread!
"Face of a Botticello angel!" he thought, and steeled his heart
against her.
She sank into a chair half laughing and yet with an introverted
expression--"_recueillement d'esprit_," he thought to himself,
After one glance, the blood rushed to his head, and his hot eyes
devoured again and again these words:
Since our interview yesterday, and in regard to that
irresistible scene of the blue stockings, I am not willing to
let it drop.
However, I should like to suggest abbreviation, and I fear I
shall have to ask you to change the shade to a dull bluish gray.
If you will come to my office in the morning, I feel sure we can
soon arrange a climax which shall embody your own wishes and
mine. As to the effect--the after-effect--of her husband's death
on H. P.'s character, attention will be diverted from that by
the previous gossip about----
And there it ended.
The initials, H. P.--Helen Penn--were the tacks that fastened
himself--no greater minimum of noise than is instinctive toward
wounded _ego_ and win her back!
myself craving the instant fall of kingdoms."
Peering cautiously in, this sight met Robert's bloodshot eyes:
It was five days before Benjamin Bentnor's best detective work
succeeded in finding his brother-in-law in a hall bedroom at an
obscure hotel in Washington, for a strong impulse of duty to be
At first, however, all Bentnor could do was to sit about rather
enthusiasm left in him, Penn? I can't, for one. Must have a
"Well, I suppose it is a bit of a shock to a man to find that his
Penn's aroused interest and hurried on with his tale:
"It strikes me I oughtn't to be telling you this, Rob, for it was
"Trust me," murmured Penn, and a smile twitched at his face.
"_You_ and Helen!" gasped Robert.
around the literary women of that day, the pretty D'Arblay, the
Robert sprang up, and with a burst of wild laughter, shouted:
Your arms have held me till they seemed my home.
Your heart denies me; and the spells I weave
Are powerless to hold you. You must roam,
And I must, grieving, hide the thing I grieve.
Oh, love that does not love me, will there come
No time when I am all too dear to leave?
Is life so rich without me? Will there be
No ache of loneliness? No sudden sting
Of loss--of longing? Will your memory
Dwell on no passionate, sweet, familiar thing,
Soft touch or whispered word? Are you so free
From any ties but those new days may bring?
So much I miss you that I do not dare
To let my heart turn backward, nor my eyes
Search the wide future that is swept so bare
Of all I coveted. Yet deeplier lies
Than any misery of dull despair
The fear that you may some day come to prize
The things I stand for, when I am not there
To fill your needs with all my sympathies.
"Well, so long, fellows," said the Goat, and rose to go.
"By George!" it said. "Isn't he the limit?"
The Goat was from the West, a graduate of a prairie college of
Moravian foundation, an athletic, good-looking young fellow in
precipitation. He appeared at breakfast the next morning,
drunken gambler who had been run out of a little mining camp one
manner previously described.
"I did that pretty well," he said, approvingly. "Pity those babes
middle of the recrimination that followed this turning state's
evidence on the part of the Albany Lamb, the Cousin inquired:
Freeman was the Goat's name.
decided to study law in New York, and I know he lives up here
somewhere."
"Such a nice young fellow!" contributed the Aunt.
"Don't know him," said the flock.
"We'll ask the Goat about him," suggested the Philadelphia Lamb.
demonstrations.
combination of high hat, stick and cigarette that showed much
The flock choked; this was from the Goat, who had unobtrusively
consumed most of the plate of toast at noon while the Lambs were
tightening the corners of her mouth:
"I thought it was strange that you didn't know Mr. Freeman."
Valladolid? Or about San Juan?" The flock gazed with unutterable
"That happened to a friend of mine."
dismissed except the Boston Lamb, who alone went down to put his
relatives into their cab.
"How soon?" begged the Albany Lamb, anxiously.
assertions of his right as a citizen to a trial by a jury of his
peers. When the Boston Lamb came leaping up the stairs to add his
"Where are your Moravian grandparents?" demanded the Albany Lamb.
speaking, I insist on an explanation."
"Not exactly, as yet," he admitted. "But to-night--I hope----"
"After which we are invited to call--oh, you brute!" groaned the
Albany Lamb, and started for him. But the Goat had pulled himself
A gem apart
In the unreached heart
Of a shy and secret place;
Swift-winged in flight
As a meteor's light
In the far-off field of space.
More sweet and clear
To the spirit's ear
Than a wave-song on the beach;
Like the baffling blue
Of a mountain view,
Or a dream just out of reach.
Like light withdrawn
By a rain-swept dawn,
When the clouds are wild and gray;
Like a wind that blows
Through the orchard close
Ever and ever away.
"Ah, senator!" she cried, as she held out her hand with regulated
The senator stood in agreeable embarrassment.
precipitancy.
"And--and----" hesitated the youth, "I hope that you will not be
"So good of you," he stuttered. "It's nothing. You must be tired.
"I only thought of saying something pleasant at a dinner."
"He wants to be considered artistic," pleaded Miriam.
"I want to speak to you," she exclaimed, as soon as words were
possible. "I want you to come to my house to-morrow morning. I am
"Oh!" cried Miriam.
"Don't you like her singing?" the other inquired, earnestly.
Persiflage in the hunt as often as you like."
"I tell her that no one can conduct, an automobile as she does."
"It's an amusing game," the girl answered.
"But is it a safe one?"
"Why not?" she exclaimed, challengingly.
"My dear Mrs. Gunnison," cooed the girl, "you must forgive me.
Wantham's place. Though, of course, there is not the brilliancy
"I like to have things nice about me," said Mrs. Gunnison,
"Every one is," responded Mrs. Gunnison, warmly. "Miriam is so
"Did he say he wished to know me?" the girl asked, quickly.
"_I_ don't think, Mr. Leeds, that you know Miss Whiting," Mrs.
With her customary smile of unconcerned intelligence, Mrs. Brough
Leeds continued to inspect the girl with amusement in his glance.
"Oh, how splendid accomplishing something must be--standing for
something!"
"Don't you think that you are rather overvaluing my modest
achievements?"
"To be such an inspiring influence in local politics----"
"Public life has always been so absorbing for me. I can think of
nothing nobler for a man."
"Than being a common councilman," he interrupted.
"Don't you believe me?" she asked, suddenly arrested by his tone.
"I have heard a good deal of you, Miss Whiting."
Miriam flushed slightly, but she looked at him steadily.
"What have you heard?"
The glow deepened in her face and her eyes flashed.
"You are laughing at me," she cried. "You--are--despising me."
alone--to think.
Mrs. Gunnison's dinners, like all else of the establishment, were
"I am sorry," he said, pleadingly.
"So am I," she answered. "Very--oh, you think I mean that to be
pleasant in that way, too----"
Miriam suddenly veered round upon him.
"I want to tell you something," she almost whispered. "What I
said--what I tried to say this afternoon was true."
He looked at her with fixed earnestness.
He gazed at her without answering.
He shook his head half smilingly.
"You do not know all that I have heard," he answered.
"Who can have been so unfair--so cruel? I--I never wanted to be
"If I have been--warned," Leeds continued.
"As if I were a peril--an evil----"
"Perhaps you might be," he muttered.
"You are hard on me."
"I must protect myself."
"I am not a harpy," she cried.
She rose straightly and swiftly.
"Believe me----" he began, hastily.
"It's I," the voice said, insistently. "May I come in?"
"Of course," Miriam answered, without moving.
The door opened quickly, and a small figure darted into the room.
She came forward slowly.
"Yes," said Miriam, quietly.
Miriam looked at her curiously.
"I understand. You were clever enough to see through me----"
"You did it?" the girl murmured, dully.
"Yes, I warned him."
"That is why he has said the things he has."
"He has said something?"
She sprang to her feet, and spoke in deep, tragic tones.
"True!" she repeated. "And I have lost the power of being thought
part--when what I did was a comedy--a farce--a tragedy!"
She broke off with a sob.
"You have cried wolf pretty often," avowed Mrs. Brough.
"I am a Cassandra," said the girl, instantly. "When I wish to be
"No," said Mrs. Brough, slowly.
cleverness. There was a feeling of power in it--playing with the
foibles and weaknesses of men and women. I did not see that I was
"I was not very good for my own," Miriam went on, grimly. "I
found, by exercising my power, I could get much that I wished. I
She pointed dramatically to a table.
"Don't you exaggerate?"
concede to me any saving light?"
"I did not know. If I can do anything now----"
"But weeds can be dug up."
retribution."
execution, however glorious it might appear in the conception.
idleness. The arrangements for the afternoon had not yet been
concluded, but were in the careless making. Who should ride; who
"I have been trying to speak to you, but you have avoided me."
"Why?" he asked; "I am going to tell you the truth, now----" she
paused, and looked at him.
"Why?" he repeated.
"You have really come to that conclusion?" he asked.
"I have always believed it," she answered, firmly.
"That is what you thought from the first?" he said, slowly.
"What do you mean?" he asked, quietly.
"You have an old name and a large fortune which rendered you
"Then you think I am--nothing?"
"I thought I had, at least, ordinary common sense."
"I am altogether a monster?"
"I am quite serious," she answered. "You objected to any little
"At least, we know where we are now," he responded.
"Yes. And as we are staying in the same house it may be as well."
Miriam rose slowly. She walked decidedly across the room, and
process. Without any awkwardly abrupt transition or disconnecting
lasting nature.
"I did not expect to stay so long," he explained to her on one
occasion, rising as she paused at the foot of the stairs.
"Then why do you?" she asked, coldly.
Miriam swung about swiftly.
"To-morrow!" she exclaimed, with a catch in her voice.
actions--my life."
"What do you mean?" she murmured.
"I have realized that very likely I am a prig. I understand the
"Give up?" she replied.
"You are going to give up everything?" she exclaimed.
"Yes," he answered. "It is your doing. You must take the
responsibility of it."
"All that is something of which you know nothing," he answered,
gravely. "Something of which I have told you nothing. I am going
away--with the Donaldsons."
"People like that!" she interrupted.
"Let me assure you that you do."
"Then I can't take the responsibility. I won't."
She bit her lips, pale as her cheeks were white.
"Oh!" she cried, "how horrible!"
"Your keys, sir," the butler said, holding out the bunch.
"You are down!" he exclaimed.
"Yes," she answered, neither turning round nor looking up.
"You are very early."
"Yes?" he interrupted, eagerly.
myself--a price I must pay. As falsely as you thought I tried to
believe me now. I could not bear it."
"Then you don't think I am altogether contemptible?"
On one knee, beside her, he had his arm about her.
"I--I don't deserve it," she sobbed.
"I think we have both been mistaken and unhappy."
"We'll have everything all right now, and that is all."
"But you are going away," she exclaimed.
"I said I was going away unless one thing happened."
"Yes," she said, eagerly.
"Very well--it has happened."
Together they went out through the open door into the fresh, soft
"The night is the time for romance," he said. "Any well managed
proposal should be made under the stars."
What it would mean for you and me
If dawn should come no more!
Think of its gold along the sea,
Its rose above the shore!
That rose of awful mystery,
Our souls bow down before.
What wonder that the Inca kneeled,
The Aztec prayed and pled
And sacrificed to it, and sealed,
With rites that long are dead,
The marvels that it once revealed
To them it comforted!
What wonder, yea! what awe, behold!
What rapture and what tears
Were ours, if wild its rivered gold--
That now each day appears--
Burst on the world, in darkness rolled,
Once every thousand years!
Think what it means to me and you
To see it even as God
Evolved it when the world was new!
When Light rose, earthquake shod,
And slow its gradual splendor grew
O'er deeps the whirlwind trod.
What shoutings then and cymbalings
Arose from depth and height!
What worship-solemn trumpetings,
And thunders, burning white,
Of winds and waves, and anthemings
Of Earth received the Light!
Think what it means to see the dawn!
The dawn, that comes each day!
What if the East should ne'er grow wan,
Should never more grow gray!
That line of rose no more be drawn
Above the ocean's spray!
quantities of it were gayly consumed, along with cigarettes, and
coffee, and flaming _pousse-cafés_.
everyone there was a trained observer, and knew his Broadway.
Leaving it, then, to graver historians to trace the financial,
Thirty-second Street. What, then? Nobody claims Broadway to be a
domestic scene, and children and nursemaids don't constitute its
charm.
Look north, from where we have turned into it, after lighting our
Straight ahead of you, within ten minutes' brisk walk, are twenty
In this theater you perceive audience and actor alike occupy the
stage, as they used to do in the old London playhouses; and poor
Thirty-sixth Street, a policeman marching a thief to the precinct
laughter explode after it. It rolls under an express van; a dozen
family party--_monsieur et madame et sa fille_. Monsieur stops,
buttoning up that "good frock coat," the uniform of the American
senator, which has proclaimed Squedunk through every capital in
across the way at all the flaring signs toward Sixth Avenue.
I had a wicked impulse to go, too, and see what happened. But I
It is a curious fact, by the way, that all the places which make
theaters turn out their audiences.
Broadway is darker. The theater lights are out. Only bars and
everybody, and no philosopher moralizes on that awful, tremendous
Do you want more detailed biographies, or is your acquaintance
"No, Cousin Agatha. He kept straight on."
"Quite sure."
"Of course I've driven all my life," Miss Herron admitted. "Your
"They certainly _are_ dangerous."
"She has the Herron look," she had answered, complacently.
"You'll take ever so good care, of her?"
gatherings on the piazza of a moonlight evening, when accredited
careless as to costume.
"Yes, indeed. I think Barham's just lovely."
"And what's most lovable in it?"
"Some of them are nice, Cousin Agatha," the child protested,
deferentially.
"Who, for instance?"
"All those who come to the house."
"A pack of rascals!" the old lady replied, crisply. "Laughing
though of course they haven't had your advantages, my dear. But I
Lucy's face grew gently mutinous. "Which is that, cousin?"
"That yellow-haired boy of----" She checked her reply abruptly to
"I'm afraid," ventured Lucy, "that it's an automobile."
"Honk-honk!" close behind now.
"Oh!" cried Lucy. She knelt up in the carriage seat, looking back
"Signal the creature to slow up."
hat--shone in the sun like crisp gold wire.
Lucy laughed aloud. "Isn't he silly?" And then waved once more.
hesitated, then pronounced the word as though it profaned her
speech--"an automobile."
"Is it coming?"
machinery.
"Oh, do be careful, Arch!" cried Lucy, for the ponderous machine
"The wretch! I _knew_ it was young Fraser."
"I'd not expect it of him, certainly."
"Ha!" Miss Herron bestowed a lightning glance on her unconscious
"Which direction shall we take?"
"Toward home, then?"
"Yes," said Lucy, eagerly, "toward home. To the right, please."
"That is very pleasant to hear," replied Miss Herron, graciously
"Please don't think of it, Cousin Agatha."
"No? My dear, have you ever been visited by neuralgia?"
"I understand. Silly girl, why don't they teach you to say things
"Not _really_!" A quick dismay chased away the arch gayety.
"And I'm very glad if you had what you would call a good time."
"Wouldn't a farm wagon leave those marks?"
"Is that thing yonder green?"
"Anything more?"
"Oh!" cried Lucy, and now it was hers to stand, "I think----"
"The workings of Providence!" Lucy sighed.
"How perfectly absurd! Don't be irreverent, miss."
"Is that machine really broken?" The joyful hope in Miss Agatha's
unfolding flower.
eloquent of regret.
"Try it," said Miss Herron.
settled upon it again.
"So there you must--remain? Two miles from any assistance?"
"I am quite serious, Mr. Fraser."
"I am equally so, Miss Herron."
Archibald drowned the rest in thankful protestations. And----
"If you could help me a little," explained Archibald, and his own
A second time Miss Herron considered in silence. She turned
For a brief second Archibald hesitated. Then he fumbled among the
"Mr. Fraser," her cousin amended, calmly, "will continue in his
automobile. To--to steer, if necessary."
"I'll get even--oh, more than even!--with you, dear lady," he
promised, releasing his tiller to shake his fist at Miss Herron's
If the Revolutionary Daughters had not arranged their September
respectfully.
"I'm so sorry." He turned to the station agent. "How late's the
"It's very annoying," said Miss Herron.
"The idea!" exclaimed Miss Herron, gently scornful. "In
"I'll go very carefully," Archie went on, recklessly promising.
"Of course, you know, I dislike those machines, but," Miss Herron
deep-cushioned seats, the heavy springs, then the tiller and the
various start-and-stop levers. "You think there'll be no danger?"
"Not the least. I'm sure you'd not be afraid, Miss Herron."
He charmed her by his deferential escort across the platform; he
"I am waiting," she answered.
abandoned, they had arranged in that runaway afternoon when Miss
Herron kept her room; the carriage was to overtake him in his
determination to attach him to the Paris branch of the Fraser
Now, by blessed good luck, Miss Herron was quite in his power to
But, even as he plotted, he wooed her with his politest phrases;
But by slow degrees, without at all perceiving how it came about,
"Where will you live in Paris?" asked Miss Herron.
"The other house?"
"Indeed! That should be extremely pleasant."
"Unless," he murmured, suddenly inspired to madness, "unless----"
"Yes," he cried, jubilantly. "Oh, say I may ask her."
"To speak of such matters in an--automobile is to treat them very
rigidity of demeanor was behind her words, "dignified."
"Let us not refer to her, I beg."
"Not ever again?" he asked, but with no hint of disappointment.
remembered my real duty and pleasure."
"And that," Miss Herron asked, for once caught unawares, as it
appeared, "is what?"
"Watch!" said Archie, briefly.
"People are very charitable. Yes, Miss Herron."
"Up to a point."
"Scarborough," said Archie, and made the horn speak.
"You'll be careful?" she asked. "Through the village----"
"Honk! honk!" This for a couple of children, who, starting to run
"The sheriff himself couldn't stop us now."
"That _was_ a close shave," commented Archie.
"Not too recklessly, Mr. Fraser."
"I must get you to the meeting, ma'am."
"Assure me," demanded his passenger, after a brief moment, during
Scarborough's main street like a green tornado, "that you retain
entire control of the thing."
"I can't have her?"
"Some faster than this. But Lucy can----"
"Let us not discuss the matter, please."
"I can't have her?"
"I beg pardon?"
"You're not scared, I suppose?" he said, mockingly.
"I'll race you to the bridge."
"Go on, now! Watcher think I got here?" But the girls chorused
delightedly, and teased their driver--all but one, and she leaned
"'Fraid cat!" giggled the girl. "You're afraid, Mr. Mayer."
"One!" cried Archie, releasing his steed again. "Two!"
"Leggo, May!" grunted the other.
"Three!" yelled Mayer. "To the bridge!"
"Oh, be careful!" murmured Miss Herron. "It's very dangerous."
"Very," replied Archie. "Promise me Lucy and I'll slow up."
A sudden little shriek of joy and some handclapping from Mayer's
"Saucy things!" remarked his passenger, and fell silent again.
"Archie, they _mustn't_ beat us!"
"I guess I'll crowd him."
"_Beat 'em!_" she ordered truculently.
He stuck blindly to his point: "Lucy?"
"You weren't scared a bit!" he exclaimed, frankly doleful.
"never to be surprised at anything. And another," she added,
The boy blinked. "I don't understand," he stammered.
"Good Lord!" exclaimed Archie, as the light began to break.
Before Love came my eyes were dim with tears,
Because I had not known her gentle face;
Softly I said: "But when across the years
Her smile illumes the darkness of my place,
All grief from my poor heart she will efface."
Now Love is mine--she walks with me for aye
Down paths of primrose and blue violet;
But on my heart at every close of day
A grief more keen than my old grief is set,--
I weep for those who have not found Love yet!
He had, to be sure--in a spurt of energy that subsided almost as
A chain ablaze with diamond days
All on the seasons strung,
which he thought sounded rather well.
Then, unfortunately, the rains set in and the result was a mental
gristle. Talk about the bouquet of wine! Why, the bouquet of the
full-fledged, go to waste. Decidedly, it was worth the risk.
His mind again reverted to the subject with pleasant anticipation
"Mushroom or toadstool?" was his stern inward query, as the pert
She was not three steps away, and from the trim leather leggings,
arrested.
"Of course--I remember you perfectly now, Miss--ah."
He tried, as he took her extended hand, to mumble something
impish delight.
"You people from the East are so dreadfully disingenuous," she
complained. "Why not confess frankly that, so far as you are
concerned, I belong to the 'no name' series?"
incarnation.
"You write books--you know you do!"
"Well--it's a decent enough occupation!"
She did not speak, and he began again with increased seriousness:
"Really, I'm in earnest, you know. I've the most curious sense
of--well, of companionship with you--as if we'd known each other
She interrupted rather hastily.
Tersely--"Upon my soul."
She rose somewhat hurriedly. "It's going to rain!"
"Never mind. I have a conundrum. Why is love like a mushroom?"
The drops began to fall softly, swiftly, easily, as if they would
Advertised personalities. Enormous sums squandered on theatrical
impossibilities. Amelia Bingham's pluck and restlessness. "Nancy
Stair" rather tiresome. Lesser lights in star-dom.
Shakespearian quotation, "The play's the thing." No trumped-up
It is almost proverbial that the most hopeless sort of theatrical
theaterdom.
In "Mademoiselle Marni" Miss Bingham played the part of a very
It is not necessary to rehearse the story of "Nancy Stair." I can
impossible people, and drag them through a jungle of impossible
picture of _Robert Burns_, who was injected pell-mell into the
"romance." It was disheartening.
excuse for protesting. This is a somewhat interesting topic.
identical way and there is no remedy.
manner. If Mr. Frawley had warbled "The Wearing o' the Green" the
"The Lady Shore" was the title of Miss Virginia Harned's massive
As soon as the playwright has excavated a courtesan, he begins to
appears to indicate a hysterical sympathy, on the part of the
The two women who built up "The Lady Shore" smashed history into
smithereens in their rabid and frenzied effort to make her an
dramatize the career of Messalina, they would make of her a
combination of Joan of Arc and Dorothy Vernon of Haddon Hall.
sinners is an invisible boundary.
As a play, "The Lady Shore" was mere melodrama, of a somewhat
incoherent nature. Perhaps if the central character had been
Miss Virginia Harned, however, escaped from her play. She is an
emotional actress of considerable force, as she showed us in her
production of "The Lady of the Camelias." She has the power of
Stair" to "The Lady Shore," and was _Edward IV._ It would be
Historians, interested in the French revolution, might get some
The other "star" to whom I have fitfully alluded--Miss Eugenie
Stair_ caliber, but certain signs point to revivals of "The New
Magdalen," which as an emotional story has seldom been surpassed.
Mr. Frank Keenan, with whose praiseworthy effort to emulate the
He trifled with our young affections, aroused our enthusiasm and
Why Mr. Keenan should have expected to jump into a whirlwind of
instantaneous applause is an enigma. Nothing that is out of the
conventional rut succeeds at the start. There must be patience,
evaporated. Lack of funds!
What a dismal lack of those funds there must have been when the
People ask why dramatic chroniclers grow cynical. The answer is
"elevate" the stage with the Century Players. This is an age of
I have devoted much space to Mr. Frank Keenan and his plan. I was
frequently errs. A brain might perhaps prove that this play was
reviewers tried to do with "A Light from St. Agnes."
understand precisely what I am driving at.
successfully argue against them. Rare indeed they are. When some
gold-embroidered cloth. On her breast is a cross of diamonds.
More long silences; more significant pauses. He must possess that
Mrs. Fiske scored heavily as a playwright. There were two other
Practical purposes served by stories of trade and commerce.
Something more than entertainment. Among the interesting new
books are "The Common Lot," by Robert Herrick; "The Master
Spring has brought with it a multitude of gay volumes. American
literature should open its doors to all phases of business and
And these tales, like the Rollo books, impart much valuable
information to the uninitiated. We can remember feeling a slight
worldling!
There can be no doubt that "The Common Lot," by Robert Herrick,
American novel.
Not the least powerful scene is that in which his confession and
No reader will put down the book without having experienced some
stirrings of heart and some reminders of personal experience, or
without a keen interest in the story.
As "The Cost" dealt with finance on a big scale, so David Graham
In these two stories, Mr. Phillips depends for the success of his
The story is that of young Sayler's development from a green,
story, as a whole, is one of more than ordinary power.
The Harpers publish another new story by Warwick Deeping, "The
Slanderers." It is a novel which, in style, so suggests George
Meredith as to make one suspect that the author is a pupil of the
A pair of idealists, quite realistic, nevertheless, in their
It is hardly necessary to say that it would not be a story of the
The opening chapters introduce this question, growing out of the
distressing circumstances of a wife's discovery of her husband's
In other respects, also, the truth of the conditions described is
The story involves, of course, the consecutive gain and loss of
fortunes many times repeated; it pictures the social life of San
Francisco and the rough life of Nevada mining camps, and gives
The character of the old pioneer, Colonel Parrish, and the two
sympathies of the reader even more than the love affairs of the
former.
The narrative flows on pretty evenly, with no strikingly dramatic
tenaciously all through.
readers. The new book is published by Henry Holt & Co.
Like "The Lightning Conductor," the new book has for its theme a
friends, Mr. and Mrs. Jack Winston, to cure a serious case of
disappointed love.
It is altogether a charming narrative, full of pretty descriptive
As adultery, usury, murder and suicide are among these little
It would be difficult to hit upon a novelist who shows wider
because of his experience as an assemblyman, is not a matter of
literary interest.
principally because the reformers have learned to play it more
sensibilities of the reader are not much shocked.
In spite of Don Q's profession and associates, and a temperament
manifested in many practical ways--his piety being of the kind
If his portrait, by Stanley Wood, is a faithful likeness, the
influence of his presence is not to be wondered at.
She is, however, docile because of her deep love for her husband,
Greyhurst is Trescott's opponent in a consequent lawsuit, a
decision against the latter.
The rest of the book turns upon the revenge which Constance,