: . :; I 
 
 AFFAIR 
 
 : 
 
BY THE SA.\fE AUTHOR 
 
 AMOS JUDD. 
 
 One vol. i6mo. 75 cents 
 
That First Affair 
 
 And Other Sketches 
 
I ,* 
 
 Y 
 ?/ # f v> i - 
 
 AN ENORMOUS BUNCH OF FLOWERS IN HIS TRUNK 
 
That First Affair 
 
 And Other Sketches 
 
 By 
 
 J. A. Mitchell 
 
 Editor of "Life," author of "Amos Judd," etc. 
 
 Illustrated by 
 
 C. D. Gibson, A. B. Frost, F. T. Richards 
 and the Author 
 
 New York 
 
 Charles Scribner s Sons 
 1896 
 
Copyright, 1S96, 
 BY CHARLES SCRIBNER S SONS. 
 
 TROW DIRECTORY 
 
 PAINTING NO BOOKBINDING COMPANY 
 NiW YORK 
 
CONTENTS 
 
 PAGE 
 
 THAT FIRST AFFAIR 3 
 
 MRS. LOFTER S RIDE 55 
 
 Two PORTRAITS 81 
 
 THE MAN WHO VANISHED . . . 139 
 
 A BACHELOR S SUPPER 155 
 
 393086 
 
LIST OF ILLUSTRATIONS 
 
 PAGE 
 
 An enormous bunch of flowers in his 
 
 trunk Frontispiece 
 
 When the light went out, leaving the 
 
 earth in darkness 9 
 
 He did his best to make her cheerful 21 
 A sumptuous picture of dignity and 
 
 patrician elegance 54 
 
 The portrait of a girl in an old-fashioned 
 
 hat 83 
 
 He strolled dreamily about the old 
 
 garden 93 
 
 What is it I ought to see ? . . . 98 
 
 Beneath the lamp he re-read the note 100 
 
 Into the county of Kent . . . . 103 
 
 A rambling, irregular structure . . 104 
 
 A portrait of himself ! 106 
 
 The portrait in America had come to 
 
 life 109 
 
 He made a low bow 119 
 
List of Illustrations 
 
 PAGE 
 
 You must n t call me that . . . . 127 
 The thing he saw drove the blood 
 
 from his cheeks 143 
 
 There was soon a great rejoicing . . 151 
 
 How close they sat 158 
 
 But they all understand . . . . 169 
 She took his head in both her hands 
 
 and kissed him 171 
 
 When Clem entered the next morning 175 
 
 V11I 
 
That First Affair 
 
That First Affair 
 
 IT is bad enough to be alone in a 
 big house, and there is yet more 
 solitude, the poets tell us, in being alone 
 in a great city ; but the hero of this 
 simple scandal was alone on the sur 
 face of the earth, the only man, abso 
 lutely single and unique, solitary, 
 all by himself. 
 
 Of course there were animals, but 
 no record exists of dog or cat or parrot ; 
 and what hope for boon companion 
 ship with the mylodon, the ichthyo 
 saurus, or the ornithiohnites giganteus ? 
 3 
 
ThaV -First Affair 
 
 But, worst of all, he had no memories, 
 for he started already brought up. He 
 had never been a boy. Selkirk and 
 other solitaries, either in heart or trou 
 sers pocket, bore memories of mother, 
 or proof of maiden s love ; but this 
 young man knew not mother, maid, 
 or memories, and had never seen a 
 pair of trousers. 
 
 His education was limited, as history 
 had not yet begun. Botany was trying 
 her first experiments. Reading, writ 
 ing, and geography were still unborn ; 
 and, thus far, no vulgar fractions had 
 shed their blight upon a peaceful earth. 
 However, being the first of the kind, 
 and never having seen his like, he 
 probably regarded this as the usual 
 condition of affairs ; the proper thing, 
 in fact. But the goings on of other 
 animals could not fail to start him 
 on a line of thought that was sure 
 to be upsetting. They were pairing 
 off in twos, and with their individual 
 families seemed to get the upper hand 
 
 4 
 
That First Affair 
 
 of an unpleasant isolation that threat 
 ened to make his own existence a 
 melancholy failure. And doubly de 
 pressing was the gradual discovery that 
 while among the other animals there 
 were at least two of a kind, thus ren 
 dering these partnerships an easy busi 
 ness, for him there seemed no such 
 hope. Day after day he searched, but 
 found no biped similar to himself. 
 Meeting, one tranquil eve, a palaeo- 
 therium with his bride, he asked the 
 happy groom where he found his mate, 
 and if, in that locality, there were 
 brides in human shape. " No," the 
 palaeotherium answered, " I have seen 
 them nowhere ; but off to the south I 
 passed maidens of the gorilla family 
 who walk on their hind legs and use 
 their front paws just as you do; and 
 they also bear a certain resemblance in 
 physiognomy." 
 
 " Yes ; I know those maidens," re 
 plied the solitary one ; " but somehow 
 they fail to fascinate me. They are 
 5 
 
That First Affair 
 
 hasty-tempered and too muscular. I 
 should never be master in my own 
 house ; and they are such restless climb 
 ers ! No ; home would not be home 
 with those girls." 
 
 Two squirrels, newly wedded, threw 
 nuts at him as he wandered melancholy 
 by, and twitted him on living by him 
 self. " Get a girl," cried the groom, 
 " and go to housekeeping. There s 
 nothing like it, really ! " 
 
 And later a mastodon, hurrying pon 
 derously, yet joyfully along, with an 
 enormous bunch of flowers in his trunk, 
 nearly trampled the disconsolate bache 
 lor beneath his feet. 
 
 " I beg your pardon ! " he exclaimed. 
 " I came within an ace of walking on 
 you." 
 
 " I wish you had." 
 
 " Why, what has happened ? " 
 
 " Oh, nothing has happened, and 
 nothing ever will ! 
 
 The big traveller failed to understand, 
 but his business that morning was too 
 6 
 
That First Affair 
 
 interesting for delays. Being of a 
 sympathetic nature, however, he made 
 one attempt at consolation. 
 
 u Let me put you on my back, and 
 I 11 take you to my wedding. You 
 shall be best man." 
 
 The invitation was declined, but in 
 cidents of this kind only increased the 
 bitterness of a lonely spirit, and aggra 
 vated a situation already painful. The 
 most dismal hours of all were during 
 those regular intervals when the light 
 went out, leaving the earth in dark 
 ness. This joyless condition lasted 
 many hours, and was only alleviated 
 by a smaller and much colder luminary 
 than the sun, which, as the lone one 
 gazed upon it, filled him with uncon 
 trollable longings. The evening zephyrs 
 breathed exasperating secrets, always of 
 a tender and mysterious nature. And 
 during these dusky hours the frogs and 
 turtles intensified his woe by their 
 vociferous courtships. 
 
 But a surprise was awaiting him, and 
 
 7 
 
That First Affair 
 
 it came in a novel way. Early one 
 morning, as he lay upon the grass, con 
 versing with a skylark who was hunting 
 worms for his family breakfast, the bird 
 remarked, 
 
 " I suppose you feed your little ones 
 on quite different food." 
 
 " I have no little ones." 
 
 Oh, too bad ! All dead ? " 
 
 " No ; I never had any." 
 
 " Your wife s alive ? " 
 
 " Never had any." 
 
 " So you re a bachelor ! Well, it s 
 a shame for such a good-looking chap 
 to go to waste. You ought to marry, 
 and do it while you re young." 
 
 The youth sat up and shook his hair 
 from his face with an angry move 
 ment. 
 
 u I would if I could, and quick 
 enough ! " 
 
 The lark laughed. u Would if you 
 could ! Why, any girl would have you." 
 
 u Bui there is n t any girl." 
 
 " Oh, fiddle ! " 
 
That First Affair 
 
 u But there is n t, and never has been ! " 
 
 The bird looked earnestly at him, 
 
 and came a little nearer. " That is a 
 
 serious oversight," he said impressively, 
 
 his head to one side. 
 
 " Serious ! I should say it was ! " 
 " Look here," said the lark, in a 
 lower tone and coming closer still, 
 " there have been several important 
 errors in this creation, and the one you 
 mention just caps the climax. While 
 of little importance to the world at 
 large, I can see that for you, personally, 
 it is terribly aggravating. Now, I won t 
 mention names, but there are several 
 creatures hereabouts that should never 
 be allowed in a first-class garden. It 
 all comes from a reprehensible careless 
 ness in the supervision." 
 
 " That s just what I think," said 
 the young man. 
 
 " If, for instance," continued the sky 
 lark, " there were fewer mosquitoes and 
 more girls, it would be a far more 
 attractive garden." 
 
That First Affair 
 
 " Would n t it, though ! " 
 
 " And suppose all the mosquitoes 
 were girls, what a different kind of a 
 time you would have ! " 
 
 " Don t talk about it; " and the youth 
 rolled over upon the turf and muttered 
 all the wicked words he knew. 
 
 The sympathy of the skylark was 
 aroused, also his anger, and he exclaimed, 
 u What s the use of a man without a 
 girl ? " 
 
 " None ! " 
 
 u Why, you have no home ! " 
 
 u No ; I sleep in a new one every 
 night." 
 
 " Now, marriage is rife in this garden, 
 and I can t imagine why you should he 
 shut out. You are as good as the rest 
 of us, at least, you appear so." 
 
 There was a silence, during which 
 both were thinking. It was broken 
 by the lark, who said, in a reflective 
 tone, 
 
 " It must be a mistake: just a stupid 
 blunder. There s nothing to punish 
 
That First Affair 
 
 you for. You have n t led a fast life, 
 have you, or been bad in any way ? " 
 
 " A fast life ! " exclaimed the man, 
 " fast on what ? There is no one to 
 gamble with ; I never saw a woman ; 
 there s nothing to drink but water, and 
 I am only a week old, anyway ! " 
 
 The skylark smiled. "Well," he 
 said, " I believe it s simply a mistake, 
 and that the powers above have for 
 gotten all about you. I will do the 
 best I can to advertise the fact, and it 
 may reach their ears. You just wait 
 here a minute." 
 
 Thereupon he spread his wings and 
 soared aloft. As he arose toward the 
 clouds he sang, in clear, far-reaching 
 notes, 
 
 " Not a woman in the world ! " 
 
 Higher and higher he went, until, to 
 the anxious bachelor, he became a tiny 
 speck in the sky, the note growing 
 fainter all the while. At last the blue 
 ether closed in about him and shut the 
 messenger from sight. 
 3 
 
That First Affair 
 
 A long time he was gone, but he 
 finally returned, and out of breath. 
 
 " Well, I have spread it through the 
 heavens," he said ; u and if there is 
 justice anywhere, you ought to get it." 
 
 The very next day, rather early in 
 the afternoon, our hero, yielding to a 
 heavier drowsiness than usual, reclined 
 in the cool shade of a fern, an ante 
 diluvian fern about a hundred feet in 
 height, and fell straightway into a 
 deep slumber. When he awoke the 
 surprise was there ! She was close 
 beside him, leaning over and gazing 
 down into his face, and he, in un 
 speakable rapture, looked up into an 
 other pair of human eyes. Fearing it 
 a dream, he blinked and looked again. 
 It surely was the prayed-for girl ! Her 
 eyes, surprised and timid ; the delicate 
 contour of her face and neck ; the 
 luxuriant locks that grazed his cheek 
 as she bent forward, all filled him 
 with a gentle ecstasy. 
 
 He smiled ; she returned the smile, 
 4 
 
That First Affair 
 
 and, either from embarrassment or alarm, 
 edged further away. Still sitting among 
 the flowers, she watched him intently, 
 as if trying to comprehend the situation. 
 As for him, so great was his joy that 
 he found no words to express it. He 
 continued, however, to manifest his 
 intense delight by a series of welcom 
 ing smiles, but these at last were dis 
 concerting to the maiden, compelling 
 her to turn away in some confusion. 
 For it must be remembered that this 
 was not only her first appearance in 
 any society, but it had come with un 
 precedented suddenness. Her ward 
 robe, being a thing of the future, might 
 also have troubled her under different 
 circumstances, but at this informal period 
 no fashions had been set in clothing ; 
 in fact, no standards of any kind were 
 as yet established for the guidance of 
 beginners. 
 
 She seemed even more amazed than 
 he, and stared at everything about her 
 in a charming bewilderment. 
 
That First Affair 
 
 " Where did you come from ? " he 
 finally asked. 
 
 " I am sure T don t know ! " she 
 answered ; u I just found myself here." 
 
 Her voice was gentler, more melo 
 dious than his own. He put his hand 
 to his side as if something were missing, 
 but his face expressed no regret. 
 
 " You are very beautiful ! far more in 
 teresting than anything in this garden." 
 
 u Thank you," she replied, with a 
 blush ; " I have never seen myself, but 
 it is very kind of you to think so." 
 
 " I am glad enough you have come," 
 he continued. u I have lived here 
 some days, and it s dull being alone." 
 
 " Where are the others ? " she asked. 
 
 " The other animals ? " 
 
 " The other people." 
 
 " There are no others." 
 
 She seemed disappointed. But this 
 brief conversation had given her more 
 confidence in herself, and she replied, 
 with a suspicious look, " So you are 
 the only man ! " 
 
 16 
 
That First Affair 
 
 Yes." 
 
 Now this was an unacceptable truth to 
 a belle who was making a brilliant debut. 
 
 " How do you know that ? " 
 
 " Because I have n t seen any, or 
 heard of any ; and I have inquired far 
 and near." 
 
 u Have you been everywhere your 
 self ? " and then, as her eyes swept the 
 distant hills she added, " It seems quite 
 a place ! There must be some variety 
 in the way of men." 
 
 " Well, it s what all the animals tell 
 me, and the birds too : and some of 
 them are tremendous travellers." 
 
 As he gazed in admiration upon this 
 new companion, he could not conceal 
 his contentment in being able to make 
 such a reply. But she was evidently 
 far from satisfied. After a pause, dur 
 ing which she caused him to feel that 
 he was taking an ignoble advantage of 
 a trusting girl, she inquired, without 
 looking toward him, "Then what on 
 earth do you do with yourself?" 
 
 2 17 
 
That First Affair 
 
 " Oh, nothing much : generally as 
 the others do." 
 
 " Then there are others ? " 
 " I mean the other animals." 
 " And how do they pass the time ? " 
 " Oh, stroll about and eat things, 
 mostly fruit and berries ; and take 
 naps." 
 
 What a life ! " 
 " It is dull." 
 " Dull ! I should die ! " 
 " There are some fine views." 
 But she made no reply, and there was 
 another silence in which he felt her 
 contempt. At last, in a consoling man 
 ner he remarked, " But then you will 
 have me I " 
 " Really ! " 
 
 He blushed and tried to assert him 
 self against a foolish diffidence that was 
 constantly possessing him ever since he 
 had met this person. 
 
 " What I mean is that you will have 
 one companion, such as it is, while I 
 have been all alone by myself." 
 18 
 
That First Affair 
 
 She put her hand to her mouth as if 
 to conceal a yawn, then sighed as she 
 asked, 
 
 u And the neighbors ? Are they pleas 
 ant people ? " 
 
 " But there are none, I say." 
 
 " Not hereabouts, perhaps, but further 
 away. Off there, or there," she ex 
 claimed nervously, pointing in different 
 directions. 
 
 " There is nobody anywhere. I 
 have inquired and hunted, and we are 
 the only ones." 
 
 " Impossible ! " and she arose to her 
 feet with a look of alarm. " I can t be 
 lieve it. It is terribly inconsiderate ; 
 and I am sure it s unusual." 
 
 " Unusual ! " he repeated ; " why, what 
 is the usual custom ? " 
 
 "I don t know, but it seems queer. 
 Are you sure it s all right ? I was never 
 in such a position before." 
 
 u But you never were in any position 
 before," he answered with a smile. 
 
 She made no reply, simply expressing 
 
That First Affair 
 
 by her manner an increased distrust, 
 and strolled slowly away. 
 
 He hastened after and did his best 
 to make her cheerful : he told her 
 how delicious was the fruit ; how re 
 freshing to lie down when tired ; of 
 the delightful heat of the sun when the 
 wind blew cold, and how welcome the 
 cooling wind and the shadowy places 
 when the sun was over-hot. But she 
 paid little attention, and appeared thor 
 oughly depressed, turning away as if 
 mankind had ceased to interest. She 
 gazed about at the sky, the trees, the 
 birds and butterflies, fixing her eyes, 
 at last, with an absent look, upon a 
 towering megatherium nibbling tree-tops 
 in the distance. 
 
 She plucked a flower and held it to 
 her nostrils, then studied it in admi 
 ration. 
 
 " I can show you some that are 
 much prettier than that," he remarked 
 in the tone of a man of the world who 
 has travelled extensively and seen much. 
 
 10 
 
HE DID HIS BEST TO MAKE HER CHEERFUL 
 
That First Affair 
 
 " Did you make this one ? " she asked. 
 
 "No!" 
 
 " Did you make all the rest ? " 
 
 " All what ? " 
 
 " Everything," and with a little wave 
 of her hand she indicated the trees and 
 the distant hills. 
 
 " No, that was all finished when I 
 came." 
 
 And pointing upward to the great 
 white clouds floating majestically across 
 the heavens, u And did n t you arrange 
 those, either ? " 
 
 " No ! " And he saw in her face 
 that the awe which he at first inspired 
 was gone forever. 
 
 Passing her hands through the long 
 tresses that hung about her shoulders, 
 at first in an idle way, she at last 
 began to gather them into a definite 
 shape. " Your hair is very beautiful," 
 he remarked. " How fast it must 
 have grown ; and you so young ! " 
 
 She looked up at his own head 
 and asked, after hesitating a moment, 
 2 3 
 
That First Affair 
 
 u What happened to yours ? Did some 
 thing bite it off? " 
 
 " No ; it was never any longer." 
 
 "That s too bad!" 
 
 " Oh, I don t care ; I supposed it 
 was the regular thing until you turned 
 up." 
 
 " I wish I could see my own face. 
 I have no idea how I look." 
 
 " You look like me in a general 
 way ; but you are far more beautiful of 
 course, as I was only an experiment." 
 
 u How do you know how you 
 look ? " 
 
 u I have seen my reflection in 
 water." 
 
 This was quite exciting ; and she 
 showed a livelier interest than in any 
 subject they had yet approached. So 
 together they started off to rind the 
 mirror. 
 
 Beneath a certain apple-tree he paused 
 a moment, and told her this was the 
 forbidden fruit ; that of all else in the 
 garden they could take what they wished, 
 
That First Affair 
 
 but if they tasted this there would be a 
 serious punishment. Then, continuing 
 their walk, he brought her to a quiet 
 nook by a river s bank, and there, sur 
 prised and delighted, she gazed upon a 
 fresh young face smiling back at her 
 from the water. 
 
 " Why, how lovely ! I am not at all 
 like you, and my hair is beautiful 
 simply beautiful ! " 
 
 Then she began to arrange this hair 
 in different fashions, trying new effects, 
 he watching her like a creature beneath 
 a spell. At last, turning toward him, a 
 little color in her cheeks, she inquired 
 with a smile of various meanings, 
 " How many men did you say there 
 are in the world ? " 
 
 "One." 
 
 " That s a great many, is n t it ? " 
 
 " You think one is a great many ! " 
 
 " It seems so just now." 
 
 He laughed and strolled away. She 
 called after him, " And I will let you 
 know when you are needed." 
 25 
 
That First Affair 
 
 After a while, when tired of her own 
 face and of rearranging her hair, she 
 looked about for other pleasures. The 
 world was young, and so was she, 
 and there were fresh surprises on every 
 side, in the colors and perfumes of 
 the flowers, in the clouds, the birds, 
 and the whispering trees. For a happy 
 period, no one knows how long, she 
 played about, until at last, throwing 
 herself upon a shady bank to rest a 
 little, she recognized in the branches 
 above her head the apples of the for 
 bidden tree. But she was a good girl 
 
 so far and resisted a temptation 
 quite a strong temptation, just to know 
 how it tasted. As thus she lay, a lan 
 guor came stealing through her brain ; 
 her eyelids shut out the light ; her 
 senses seemed to float away, and then 
 
 all was as nothing. 
 
 From this sleep she was gently awak 
 ened by the pressure of a diminutive 
 hand upon her heart, and warm lips 
 
 against her own. Opening her eyes, 
 26 
 
That First Affair 
 
 at first slowly, and then wider in alarm, 
 she looked upon a curious little being 
 who leaned over her with a mischievous 
 smile upon his cherubic face. He was 
 short, very plump, and quite a hand 
 some boy. She sat up and pushed 
 him back, a look both of 
 fear and indignation in her 
 face. But he continued to 
 smile, and said, 
 
 " Oh, don t be angry. 
 You will understand it 
 later. You don t know 
 me yet." 
 
 " No, I do not." 
 
 "I am the serpent." 
 
 "The serpent?" 
 
 " Yes. Do I look it ? " 
 
 She did not answer, as she felt he 
 was not serious, and she had begun to 
 fear him. In his face and manner 
 there was a recklessness and audacity 
 that augmented her distrust ; moreover, 
 his lips were amorous and his eyes were 
 bold. The impression given was of 
 27 
 
That First Affair 
 
 an impulsive, happy person, warm and 
 open-hearted perhaps, but who loved the 
 Devil and was full thereof. Had he 
 worn a halo, it would not have been 
 straight upon his head, but cocked to 
 one side, and he would have doffed it 
 to every girl he met. 
 
 " Yes," he went on, his hands upon 
 his hips ; u I am the tempter, the thing 
 that is to bring disgrace upon you, 
 upon you, the mother of the human 
 race." 
 
 His speech was meaningless, at least 
 to her, and she began to regard him as 
 some evil spirit. 
 
 "Are you a man ? " she whispered. 
 
 " A man ? No ; I am the essence 
 of all men, of the millions yet un 
 born. I am the sap and soul of human 
 life, the realization of lovers dreams. 
 I am the absorbing and resistless pas 
 sion ; the one undying thing ; the ever 
 lasting joy and torture. That s what 
 I am ! " 
 
 He smiled as he spoke, yet there 
 28 
 
That First Affair 
 
 was enough of earnestness to convince 
 his listener that he was something of 
 importance. The more she studied him 
 the more she yielded to an indefinable 
 bewitchment. He seemed to exercise 
 a dangerous spell, and she looked un 
 easily about. Her thoughts flew to the 
 man, whose absence she now 
 regretted, and she remem 
 bered him with a warmer 
 interest and a deeper long 
 ing than she had yet ex 
 perienced. 
 
 " You kind of half 
 know what love is, don t 
 you?" exclaimed her new 
 acquaintance. "Whenever 
 you think of that fellow you feel this 
 way." And, reaching out his arms, he 
 moved them slowly up and down, wig 
 gling every finger; "and it goes tingling 
 all through you, up your spine, along 
 your drunken nerves, and into your nice 
 little heart. It brings the color to your 
 cheeks and the light of Heaven to your 
 29 
 
That First Affair 
 
 eyes. Oh, it is the hig thing of crea 
 tion ! " and then, as she tried to hide 
 her embarrassment by a careless smile, 
 finally putting her hands before her face, 
 he laughed aloud, a triumphant, mock 
 ing laugh, threw himself upon the grass, 
 and repeated, as he rolled over and over 
 among the flowers, "What fun this is ! 
 
 Then he sat up and said with a 
 smile, an exasperating smile of supe 
 rior wisdom, 
 
 " Tell me honestly what you think 
 of him?" 
 
 In spite of herself, the color came 
 into her cheeks. 
 
 " Who ? " 
 
 " Who ? " he repeated in a jeering 
 tone. " Who, indeed ? There are so 
 many." 
 
 " You are an impudent little thing." 
 
 " Worse than that," he replied. " I 
 am the wicked thing that tempted 
 Eve ; " and he hunched up his shoulders 
 and rubbed his hands in a kind of reck 
 less glee. 
 
 30 
 
That First Affair 
 
 " That tempted whom ? " 
 
 " You. But tell me honestly if the 
 world is not pleasanter since you took 
 that nap. Is n t the sky bluer, the air 
 softer ? Are n t the flowers more fra 
 grant ? and is n t your heart a heap 
 sight fuller since I had the 
 honor of awakening you ? " 
 
 Again the color came to her 
 cheeks as she replied, with 
 a frown, " I don t know 
 why I should talk about 
 it to every stranger 
 who comes along." 
 
 " True ; but you are not likely to 
 encounter many strangers, and, besides, 
 I am an exceptional person. I am an 
 institution by myself, a whole prin 
 ciple, in fact, and a huge one, too." 
 
 "You are here for mischief, I am 
 sure of that." 
 
 He laughed again. "For love and 
 trouble, that s what I am here for." 
 
 " Must they go together ? " 
 
 " Well, yes ; I suppose they must. 
 3 1 
 
That First Affair 
 
 You see love requires that two shall be 
 in it." 
 
 She nodded. 
 
 Then, with a solemn shake of his 
 head, u There s trouble right away." 
 
 She reflected a moment, then replied, 
 " I don t see why." 
 
 u Because one at least is in love. 
 If the man, for instance, could pine 
 away for love of himself, for what is 
 already his ; if he could be satisfied 
 with holding his own hand, sitting in 
 his own lap, breathing love into his 
 own ear, and after all, perhaps, chang 
 ing his mind and throwing himself 
 over at the end, you can see how 
 much suffering would be avoided. And 
 the same with a woman. No ; it s 
 having two that will lead to complica 
 tions." 
 
 " But how do you know all this when 
 nothing has happened, before any 
 thing is tried ? " 
 
 " By eating that fruit," he answered 
 pointing to the branches above her head. 
 
That First Affair 
 
 " By the way, have an apple," and 
 he proffered one. 
 
 But she pushed it away. " That is the 
 tree of knowledge, the forbidden fruit." 
 
 " Oh, come now ! what do apples 
 grow for ? You will never have any 
 fun, unless you know enough to take 
 it. It s the best fruit in the garden. 
 Do you want to be a brainless old 
 goody, and never know what life is 
 to say nothing of blighting the hopes of 
 the only lover in the world ? Eat it, 
 and trust me. I can furnish you more 
 fun and tragedy, more poetry and life, 
 than the deepest ignorance can ever 
 offer. Besides, you won t get another 
 such chance for a finished education 
 with so little trouble." 
 
 She was puzzled. There were too 
 many new ideas in this, and they came 
 rapidly for a brain not three hours old. 
 
 " What do you mean ? " 
 
 " This being the tree of knowledge, 
 it follows that the more you eat the more 
 you will know ; and you will know things 
 3 33 
 
That First Affair 
 
 you ought n t to know, which is consid 
 erable sport, as you can imagine." 
 
 Although she smiled and nodded in 
 approval she could not avoid a suspicion 
 that, for inexperienced maidens, he was 
 not the safest guide. 
 
 "But we are commanded not to eat 
 it, and to disobey would be 
 wrong." 
 
 " Look here," he said, 
 cocking his head to one side 
 and half closing his eyes. 
 " You are inclined to be 
 too superior. Now, be 
 ware of an excess of 
 virtue. It is a good 
 thing, like water, purifying 
 while you are in it, but too much 
 of it becomes the chill of death. Take 
 my advice and eat that apple. It will 
 bring a scrap of wisdom, and that man 
 will like you all the better for being a 
 little cleverer than himself." 
 " Are you sure ? " 
 " Sure." 
 
 34 
 
That First Affair 
 
 She still hesitated, but finally bit into 
 it cautiously, and made a little face. 
 
 u Why, it is n t as good as it looks ! 
 It is bitter, and yet," after another bite, 
 " it has a sweet taste." 
 
 Then she finished the whole apple 
 and, as she tossed aside the core, in 
 quired, 
 
 "If I eat another shall I be wiser 
 still ? " 
 
 Yes." 
 
 " Then give me another." 
 
 But he squatted upon the grass in 
 front of her and said, 
 
 " Just wait a minute, and hear a 
 word before you go on. In the first 
 place, wisdom and fun are two dif 
 ferent things. Now, if you eat too 
 many apples you will be too wise to 
 fall in love with that man." 
 
 " I don t see why ! " she exclaimed. 
 " I should love him all the same. He 
 is not a fool." 
 
 " Yes, he is, or he would be with you 
 now." 
 
 35 
 
That First Affair 
 
 " But I sent him off." 
 
 u What did you say to him ? " 
 
 She remembered her clever little 
 speech, and smiled. u I told him one 
 man was too many." 
 
 u One man too many for a woman ! 
 Well, that would make a holoptychius 
 laugh." 
 
 Seeing that she failed to comprehend, 
 he edged a little nearer and laid a hand 
 on her knee. 
 
 " Excuse me ; but you are still very 
 simple in certain directions. However, 
 if you eat any more of these apples you 
 will be too far ahead of the man." 
 
 " But he can eat the apples too." 
 
 The fatling shook his head. 
 
 " What you want from that man is 
 an absorbing love, is it not ? " 
 
 " Oh, yes ! " 
 
 u And if that love were so tempest 
 uous and all-conquering as to blind his 
 reason you would not complain." 
 
 " No, never ! " 
 
 " Well, it hurts me to say it, but 
 36 
 
That First Affair 
 
 excessive wisdom is not a safe com 
 panion for that kind of love." 
 
 u Then he shall never taste an 
 apple ! " 
 
 " You had better let him have one, 
 just one, or it may all end in a kind 
 of toleration on your part, which is 
 also dangerous. You don t want him 
 too dull." 
 
 " Well, he shall eat one ; but only 
 one." 
 
 " You are a sensible girl. And there 
 is one thing more I ought to tell you ; 
 that is, that you will have to leave this 
 garden, now that you have eaten the 
 apple." 
 
 This alarmed her, and she exclaimed 
 reproachfully, " And you made me do 
 it!" 
 
 " Yes ; but you never could have 
 lived without it. You see this garden is 
 laid out exclusively for frigid old maids, 
 hard-headed, apathetic old maids, 
 who abominate men. Now, I would n t 
 live in it if I could, and I know that 
 37 
 
That First Affair 
 
 man would n t either. And you are 
 not the girl to be happy in here all by 
 yourself, with us fellows outside." 
 u No, I certainly am not ! " 
 " Good for you ! I knew you were 
 not. So there is no damage done. 
 The fun begins earlier, that s all. Now 
 good-by, for I must leave you; 
 but I shall be within call if 
 you ever need me ; " and 
 with a knowing smile he 
 added, " Don t be cruel to 
 him." 
 
 And he skipped away, 
 half running, half fly 
 ing, singing as he went ; 
 and she noticed that 
 birds and animals pricked up their ears 
 as if his song was interesting, certain 
 of them following the singer, and always 
 in pairs. She wondered who and what 
 he was, and had little doubt of his be 
 ing a person of importance. 
 
 And she was right. He was a per 
 son of considerable importance. And 
 38 
 
That First Affair 
 
 ever since that day which was so 
 long ago that no human being pre 
 tends to reckon it he has led man 
 kind the liveliest jig, upsetting the 
 natural course of history, dispensing 
 joy and agony with reckless waste, 
 and making hopeless fools of men 
 and women of every class and sta 
 tion, and of all ages, colors and condi 
 tions. And he is at it still. 
 
 He was hardly out of sight before 
 she began upon a second apple. That 
 clever little stranger might be correct 
 in theory but her instinct told her, that 
 in any relations between the sexes, 
 there could be no possible disadvantage 
 to the woman if she were a trifle 
 wiser than the man. After the second 
 apple she realized a mental change a 
 quicker insight, a clearer comprehen 
 sion, and, not least, a splendid confi 
 dence in herself that alone was worth 
 the price of all. She felt able to cope 
 with any masculine adversary. And 
 that second apple easily explains at 
 39 
 
That First Affair 
 
 least in this writer s opinion certain 
 mental differences between men and 
 women that have flourished ever since 
 that day. 
 
 When the man returned, uncertain 
 of his reception, for he had heard no 
 call, he found the belle of the garden 
 reclining beneath the apple-tree, weaving 
 a sash of vine-leaves. For, among the 
 various ideas that had come to her since 
 partaking of the fruit, was a yearning 
 for personal decoration, that desire to 
 wear something which has since de 
 veloped into such unreasoning dimen 
 sions. Throwing himself upon the grass 
 at her feet, he began with his old argu 
 ment, that they marry at once, like the 
 rest of the world, and go to house 
 keeping. For a time she made no 
 answer, fearing he might suspect, either 
 by her language or by her manner, that 
 she was not the simple maid he had 
 known but an hour ago. 
 
 At last she moved her lips, raised her 
 eyebrows, and held her head a trifle to 
 40 
 
That First Affair 
 
 one side, as if trying to think well of a 
 poor suggestion. 
 
 " Come," he urged, " what do you 
 say ? It is a splendid idea." 
 
 " There is no hurry." 
 
 " As well do it now as later." 
 
 " As later ? You speak as if it were 
 sure to happen sometime ; but I don t 
 know why ! " 
 
 u Because everybody else is married, 
 birds, beasts and fishes, everything, from 
 the elephant to the ant. It s a law of 
 nature, an example we certainly ought 
 to follow ; and a fine one, too ! " 
 
 " But there is not the least hurry, and 
 you must remember that I never met 
 you before to-day. However, I will 
 think about it and tell you later." 
 
 " Oh, don t say that. It is mourn 
 ful to be alone. Why, the world is a 
 different thing since you came into 
 it." 
 
 " Thank you ; but I would like to 
 look about a little before I settle down. 
 I have seen nothing yet." 
 41 
 
That First Affair 
 
 "We ll see it all on our wedding 
 journey. I will take you everywhere. 
 Come, please say yes." 
 
 She shook her head. " This is all 
 dreadfully sudden ; and how do I know 
 that your love for me is serious." 
 
 " Indeed it is ! " 
 
 " Am I worth a sacrifice ? " 
 
 " Try me." 
 
 " Would you rather live alone in 
 this beautiful garden, or with me out 
 side ? " 
 
 u With you outside, a thousand times 
 over ! " and he sat up with uplifted 
 hand, as if taking an oath. 
 
 " Then eat this," and she took an 
 apple from the ground beside her and 
 held it toward him. 
 
 It was rather sudden, and he had a 
 wholesome reverence for the garden 
 authorities. 
 
 " No," he said with a shake of his 
 head ; " I will not do that, for we can 
 both live here by letting the apples 
 alone." 
 
 4* 
 
That First Affair 
 
 " But I have already eaten one." 
 
 " You have ! " and he looked seri 
 ously alarmed. 
 
 " I have," she answered calmly, and 
 in her voice there was a shade of con 
 tempt. " I hardly supposed your devo 
 tion would stand a very serious test." 
 
 " You did n t ? Then you made a 
 mistake. I will eat a dozen ! " and he 
 took half the apple at a single bite. 
 
 " No ! you must eat but one ! " 
 
 u Why ? How many did you eat ? " 
 
 She hesitated, then compromised with 
 truth, and answered, as she looked 
 calmly into his eyes, " One." 
 
 He finished the apple, then looked 
 up with a smile. " Now are you 
 satisfied ? " 
 
 u Yes, partly. You have given a 
 proof of your sincerity, but you cannot 
 expect me to fall in love at such very 
 short notice and with the first man I 
 meet." 
 
 " Why not ? You can t do better, 
 no matter how long you wait ; " and 
 43 
 
That First Affair 
 
 he added with a smile, " I am your 
 only chance." 
 
 " A tempting assortment to pick from, 
 but I must have time to consider. We 
 never met before, and I know nothing 
 whatever about you. Who are your 
 parents ? Where do they live, and what 
 sort of people are they ? " 
 
 For a moment he was disconcerted. 
 Then he smiled as he answered, " My 
 parents, I fancy, are much like your 
 own." 
 
 u My own ! Why, have I parents ? " 
 
 " Have you never seen them ? " 
 
 " No." 
 
 u Then probably you have n t any." 
 
 " Is it customary ? " she inquired. 
 
 " Is what customary ? " 
 
 " To have parents ? " 
 
 u Not that I know of, but there 
 would be no harm in them, I think. 
 Young animals, I notice, depend en 
 tirely on their parents ; but you and I 
 were never young, so we did n t need 
 them." 
 
That First Affair 
 
 " I must say it seems more respect 
 able in a way. A man without parents 
 is a terrible mystery. You may be 
 some awful animal in disguise ; how 
 do 1 know ? Is n t there some one to 
 refer me to ? Have you no relations, 
 no antecedents whatever ? " 
 
 " No more than you have your 
 self." 
 
 This style of conversation was evi 
 dently beginning to annoy the suitor ; 
 but she could not resist having a little 
 more fun with him, and replied, with 
 exasperating sweetness, 
 
 u But I don t ask you to marry me. 
 I should certainly be rather hasty, to 
 say the least, if I presented myself to 
 the first person I encountered, when 
 others are surely coming later." 
 
 " Other women may come too," he 
 retorted. 
 
 " Then you can have one ; " with 
 
 which reply she arose and walked 
 
 away. He remained seated upon 
 
 the grass, also pretending to be more 
 
 45 
 
That First Affair 
 
 offended than he was, and thus came 
 the first lovers quarrel, similar in mo 
 tive, execution, and result to the un 
 numbered millions that have followed 
 since. 
 
 The cruel maiden disappeared among 
 the antediluvian plants, not halting until 
 well out of sight, and then she turned 
 and peered through the leaves, and 
 watched him. And when, a moment 
 later, he started after her, she ran further 
 into the forest seeking out-of-the-way 
 places, that his search might be in 
 vain. There was a sense of triumph 
 in this, and a pleasant excitement, as 
 the apples had taught her the impor 
 tance of not yielding too easily. Of 
 time she took no thought, until in 
 sudden terror she realized what was 
 going on about her. It had all been 
 so gradual as to escape her notice ; 
 but now the trees, the sky, and all the 
 flowers began to lose their color, and 
 those at a distance disappeared entirely. 
 They had vanished and ceased to exist. 
 4 6 
 
That First Affair 
 
 At least, so it seemed to one of her 
 brief experience, and there was no one 
 to explain. 
 
 The big luminary had disappeared 
 behind a line of purple mountains that 
 seemed, in that direction, to mark the 
 edges of the world. She saw with 
 alarm that a peculiar change was creep 
 ing over the earth. The air was 
 damper ; the resplendent, many-colored 
 world she had known so short a time 
 ago had died away. In place of the 
 bright blue sky with its shining clouds, 
 there came, enveloping all things, a 
 solid mass of threatening black, through 
 which myriads of little eyes were glit 
 tering with a cold, unearthly light. She 
 trod on unfamiliar things, and they 
 tickled the soles of her tender, inex 
 perienced feet. Twigs and branches 
 and mysterious things seemed to reach 
 out and touch her, like wicked fingers, 
 and she shrunk and grew weaker with 
 every step. She dared not call aloud, 
 for he might be far away, and these 
 
 47 
 
That First Affair 
 
 other things would hear her voice and 
 might eat her up. 
 
 At last, sinking to the ground, she 
 wept from fear, for whatever existed was 
 surely coming to an end. Crouching 
 at the mercy of unknown things, with 
 hope and courage gone, the approach 
 ing footsteps of some invisible creature 
 brought a climax to her terror. But 
 this terror changed suddenly to an over 
 whelming happiness as she recognized 
 the outline of a human form. 
 
 With a joyful cry she ran toward 
 him. The trembling figure found a 
 welcome refuge in the encircling arms, 
 and the encircling arms were exceeding 
 glad to hold her. 
 
 The next morning, as they were 
 finishing a simple but beatific breakfast, 
 a dignified messenger, with wings and 
 snowy draperies, appeared before them 
 and gave official notice that they must 
 quit the garden. But the apples had 
 opened two pairs of eyes, and the youth 
 48 
 
That First Affair 
 
 marched out with head erect and a 
 smiling face, for he knew he carried 
 with him the flower of the universe, 
 the only one of her kind. 
 
 As for that loveless garden, nobody 
 knows where it is. 
 
 And nobody cares. 
 
 49 
 
Mrs. Lofter s Ride 
 
Mrs. Lofter s Ride 
 
 A S Mrs. Chillingworth Lofter de 
 scended the grand staircase of 
 her stately home, on the afternoon of 
 November 2, she presented a sumptu 
 ous picture of dignity and patrician 
 elegance, of complacency and of count 
 less dollars. No descendant of a hun 
 dred earls could be more aggressively 
 aristocratic or more politely insolent 
 than this daughter of four generations 
 of solid and increasing millions. With 
 features of perfect regularity, with an 
 excellent figure and a commanding 
 carriage, she was sometimes beautiful 
 and always impressive. At the time 
 of the brief adventure to be narrated, 
 Mrs. Chillingworth Lofter was forty- 
 one years of age. She looked younger. 
 53 
 
Mrs. Lofter s Ride 
 
 The soothing and ever-present con 
 sciousness of being born a Topping 
 was a wonderful preservative of youth. 
 Although a little heavier than she her 
 self desired, the well-distributed weight 
 only added to her dignity. 
 
 She was attired for afternoon calls. 
 Every detail of her toilet was in per 
 fect taste, and of unconsidered expense. 
 Through the stained-glass window above 
 her head, the sunlight, as if subdued 
 and quivering at the hallowed touch, 
 illumined in its reverent passage the 
 united arms of the Lofters and the 
 Toppings. 
 
 As she swept leisurely toward the 
 door, it opened wide, and the liveried 
 servant bowed his head in solemn ado 
 ration, just enough and not too far, 
 and she passed through and out. 
 With a careless word to the footman 
 she entered the brougham. He closed 
 the door, touched his hat, and scrambled 
 upon the box. In so doing, he seemed 
 to have discarded his trousers, but this 
 54 
 
Mrs. Lofter s Ride 
 
 was owing to the extreme tightness of 
 his creamy breeches, and to a luminous 
 quality they possessed when in motion. 
 In another moment the sparkling equi 
 page was rolling down the Avenue. 
 To certain occupants of other stylish 
 equipages, and to occasional pedestrians 
 whose gentility was publicly acknowl 
 edged, she gave nods of recognition. 
 These salutations were masterpieces, 
 being nicely graded from the cordial 
 greeting for other immortals down to 
 the perfunctory and chilling inclina 
 tion toward the social struggler whose 
 future was still uncertain ; and all were 
 executed with skill and precision. 
 
 Her first call was in Washington 
 Square, after which, on her way uptown, 
 she stopped for a moment to be seen 
 at a wedding then occurring at Grace 
 Church. Upon entering the vestibule 
 of this temple, she found herself ap 
 proaching a man by the name of Con 
 nor. She had met him once or twice 
 at the house of a friend whose guests 
 
 o 
 57 
 
Mrs. Lofter s Ride 
 
 were not always of the quality she most 
 respected. This Mr. Connor, for in 
 stance, if one could judge from his 
 somewhat diffident manner and careless 
 raiment, was not accustomed to the re 
 fining influences of fashionable society- 
 Knowing no reason why the acquaint 
 ance should be continued, she gave him 
 on this, as on previous occasions, the 
 most arctic nod in her repertoire ; and 
 it was accompanied with a look that to 
 a sensitive soul would have laid a heavy 
 frost on any budding aspirations. How 
 he took it concerned her little, and she 
 looked indifferently beyond him, as, 
 with her chin in the air, she brushed 
 calmly by. 
 
 On leaving the church, some moments 
 later, she was approached by her foot 
 man, whose anxious face gave warning 
 of disaster. One of the horses had a 
 fit, blind staggers, he thought, and 
 the coachman, with another man, was 
 trying to get him home. Should he 
 call a carriage ? 
 
 58 
 
Mrs. Lofter s Ride 
 
 No, she would walk a little, then pos 
 sibly take a hansom at Union Square j 
 and she started up Broadway. 
 
 It was a beautiful afternoon, and she 
 found walking a pleasure, but her attire 
 was somewhat too heavy and too rich 
 for the street. Besides, she had not 
 the time. Consulting a memorandum 
 in her card-case, West Thirty-third 
 Street proved the nearest on her list ; 
 decidedly too far to walk. Public cabs 
 were out of the question, being hideously 
 vulgar ; and one never knew who was 
 in them last. At that moment a cable- 
 car went by, and it certainly looked 
 fresh and clean. It would take her 
 within a block of where she wished to 
 go. Then, within her, came a reckless 
 resolve. 
 
 At the corner of Twelfth Street she 
 signalled one of these conveyances. It 
 stopped, and she proceeded leisurely 
 and with her usual impressiveness to 
 get aboard. Behind her was another 
 person, of whose existence she was un- 
 59 
 
Mrs. Lofter s Ride 
 
 aware. As our heroine stepped upon 
 the platform the conductor, who seemed 
 in a hurry, and was, possibly, ignorant 
 of her maiden name and of her social 
 position, placed his hand between her 
 shoulders, according to the custom ot 
 his kind, and gently hastened her pace. 
 With an angrv face she partially turned, 
 to avoid the pollution, and shot a crush 
 ing glance at the offender. Hut he was 
 looking elsewhere, and failed to receive 
 it. Then, as she was about to enter 
 the car, she found herself face to face 
 with Mr. Connor. He was standing 
 on the platform directly in front of her, 
 and their eyes met. 
 
 On the instant she determined to 
 commit an act that might as well be 
 accomplished now as later. As the 
 gentleman raised his hand toward his 
 hat, her eyes moved slowly from his 
 face horizontally, with glacial indiffer 
 ence, and with no sign of recognition. 
 A polar bear would have shivered be 
 neath its baleful rays. The deed was 
 60 
 
Mrs. Lofter s Ride 
 
 brutal, perhaps, but it was executed 
 with a frigidity and a self-possession 
 that rendered it a work of art. Mr. 
 Connor, with a sudden color in his 
 cheeks, stopped his hand on its upward 
 journey and stroked his mustache. Pos 
 sibly he was unaccustomed to just this 
 manner of having advice delivered. 
 
 She entered the car, followed by the 
 passenger who also had just come 
 aboard. Her entrance was majestic. 
 Twenty pairs of eyes at once were 
 fixed upon her with a pleasant interest : 
 those of the men in admiration ; those 
 of the women in envy and in awe. 
 She brought with her, into this every 
 day scene, the atmosphere of a higher 
 life, an atmosphere of pride and of. 
 costly things ; of dainty nourishment ; 
 of marble mansions and of bath-tubs 
 lined with gold. The very rustle of 
 her clothes seemed to indicate that the 
 garments beneath were even richer than 
 the outer glories. 
 
 In the centre of the car she stopped 
 
 61 
 
Mrs. Lofter s Ride 
 
 and turned about, facing, as she did so, 
 the other new arrival. He was a citi 
 zen of African descent. His somewhat 
 showy apparel indicated a love of color 
 that was not fettered by convention. 
 A sporty suit of reverberating checks, 
 whose startling yellow suggested a sus 
 picion that its first owner lacked the 
 courage to exhibit it himself, was en 
 hanced by an emerald-green cravat, held 
 by a scarf-ring of bygone fashion. The 
 striking feature of this scarf-ring was 
 its gigantic ruby, which, if honest, was 
 worth about thirty thousand dollars. 
 But grave doubts as to the genuineness 
 of this stone were invited by the ragged 
 edges of the adjacent collar, which was 
 not only conspicuously high, but very 
 much soiled. Neither did his mani 
 festly ancient hat, which had attained 
 to its present smoothness by the appli 
 cation of a moistened towel, seem a 
 proper travelling companion for a jewel 
 of such unusual value. His face, how 
 ever, was real ; and as Mrs. Chilling- 
 62 
 
Mrs. Lofter s Ride 
 
 worth Lofter confronted him, he smiled 
 pleasantly and made no effort to conceal 
 his admiration. She was disgusted and 
 looked freezingly beyond him. 
 
 The car started forward, slowly, but 
 with that rapidly increasing speed so 
 misleading to the upright traveller. 
 Mrs. Lofter leaned deferentially toward 
 her showy vis-d-vis, and laid her hands 
 caressingly upon his shoulders. They 
 then bounded gracefully toward the 
 door, with a step that was neither a 
 waltz nor a polka, but which was exe 
 cuted in such perfect time that the 
 ordinary observer would have suspected 
 a previous rehearsal. Although differ 
 ing widely in color and in social stand 
 ing, these two travellers were, for the 
 time being, certainly one in movement. 
 This movement was perhaps more of a 
 galop than a polka, and although har 
 moniously executed became a little too 
 hasty at the finish. The exhibition was 
 brought to a close by her partner s back 
 coming in violent contact with the jamb 
 63 
 
Mrs. Lofter s Ride 
 
 of the door. Although the dance itself 
 was practically over, Mrs. Lofter con 
 tinued for a moment to press heavily 
 against her dusky partner, and to one 
 unaccustomed to these conveyances her 
 action might appear of questionable 
 taste even if prompted by the warmest 
 affection. But to those familiar with 
 the Broadway cable-cars there was 
 nothing unusual in this performance, 
 except, perhaps, the costly attire of the 
 leading lady, and this added a certain 
 novelty and richness to the general 
 effect. As Mrs. Lofter, hot with in 
 dignation, released herself and stepped 
 away from the grinning object of her 
 caresses, a seat was offered which she 
 gladly accepted. Once in it, she had 
 leisure to look about. 
 
 Although inwardly revolting against 
 the sickening episode in which, to her 
 everlasting humiliation, she had just 
 taken so conspicuous a part, her glance 
 swept the row of opposite faces with 
 haughty composure. She bit her lips, 
 6 4 
 
Mrs. Lofter s Ride 
 
 and there was defiance in her eyes, as 
 she noticed a general smile throughout 
 the car. Having no sense of humor 
 herself, this cheerfulness seemed the 
 acme of human insolence. All were 
 either smiling or on the edge of it. A 
 coarse-looking man in a corner, with 
 curly hair and a fur collar, who looked 
 like a ticket-agent for a circus, smiled 
 boldly upon her with an open grin. 
 Even the pale-faced little girl with the 
 hollow eyes and phantom legs smiled 
 timidly over the enormous box that 
 rested in her lap. One person, an 
 over-dressed girl, with her beau, actu 
 ally tittered aloud. But the most in 
 supportable of all, that which irritated 
 Mrs. Lofter beyond her powers of en 
 durance, was an expression of pity and 
 regret upon the face of a massive female 
 who sat directly in front of her. This 
 heavy, honest Irish face was elongated 
 with compassion, and the kind blue 
 eyes, as they looked mournfully in her 
 own, seemed on the verge of tears. 
 5 65 
 
Mrs. Lofter s Ride 
 
 They told of an inward lamentation that 
 such a dignified lady should become an 
 object of ridicule. Mrs. Lofter was 
 unable to suppress an angry flush that 
 flew to her face, but she behaved with 
 magnificent composure, moving her 
 eyes indifferently along the row of 
 happy faces that seemed drawn up be 
 fore her like a squadron on parade. It 
 was well to let these wretches know 
 that, although she and they might chance 
 to occupy the same public conveyance, 
 there existed a gulf so immeasurably 
 vast that there could never be anything 
 in common between them, not even 
 her own anger. Upon the benevolent 
 Hibernian opposite she lingered with an 
 icy gaze that would have frozen the 
 life-blood of any human being whose 
 self-forgetfulness had been less. 
 
 But why sit here and endure the 
 vulgar insolence of this street-car ca 
 naille ? She rose to quit the scene. 
 Fortune, however, seemed to have aban 
 doned her, at least for that afternoon. 
 66 
 
Mrs. Lofter s Ride 
 
 A more unpropittous moment was never 
 selected for a dignified retreat. As she 
 arose, her Irish vis-a-vis stood up, also 
 with intent to leave the car. She had 
 passed her street in the excitement of 
 the little dance with which the grand 
 lady had just favored the company. It 
 was at this point that the car, having 
 reached the sharp curve above Four 
 teenth Street, gave viciously, and with 
 out warning, a sudden wrench, throw 
 ing its head in one direction and its tail 
 in another. The two women clinched, 
 not in anger, but in a friendly tussle of 
 the Graeco-Roman style. It promised to 
 be the usual catch-as-catch-can struggle, 
 although they held each other with a 
 nervous frenzy not usual with profes 
 sionals. The movement of the car 
 compelled Mrs. Lofter to throw her 
 self forward with a headlong fury that 
 was evidently unexpected, for it thrust 
 her ponderous but amiable adversary, 
 with sickening force, upon the lap of 
 an elderly gentleman who was perusing 
 67 
 
Mrs. Lofter s Ride 
 
 his afternoon paper. As the news of 
 the day was jammed in crackling folds 
 about his head, the visitor s stalwart 
 back pressed painfully against his nose, 
 displacing his spectacles and knocking 
 his hat to one side. In vain he struggled 
 to pull the paper from his eyes, that he 
 might realize the nature of the ava 
 lanche that was grinding him beneath 
 its suffocating weight. But the enor 
 mous and seemingly immovable mass 
 arose, and floated away as suddenly as 
 it had come. 
 
 Mrs. Lofter had the undcrhold, and 
 was the more agile of the two, but her 
 companion possessed harder muscles, 
 and also a breadth of beam that became 
 a factor of tremendous importance in a 
 struggle where time is limited. As the 
 car, with an unearthly yell from the 
 machinery about its wheels, veered 
 from northwest by west to a northeast 
 course, the athletic washerwoman re 
 gained her equilibrium with a celerity 
 that aroused the enthusiasm of every 
 68 
 
Mrs. Lofter s Ride 
 
 passenger ; and although in reality only 
 trying to free herself from her richly 
 attired assailant, she appeared first to 
 shake her and wrench her about the 
 aisle, and then, after lifting her from 
 the floor, to slam her upon the oppo 
 site seat with vindictive rage. 
 
 As Mrs. Lofter landed, she quivered 
 from head to toe with the suddenness 
 of the shock. Every stitch and button 
 of her apparel seemed to have loosened. 
 Pale from anger and outraged pride, 
 she pressed her lips and made a super 
 human effort to control herself. With 
 outward calmness she assured herself, 
 with a touch, that her bonnet was on 
 her head, and then, with a downward 
 glance, that her clothing had not been 
 torn from her body. 
 
 In the mean time the other woman 
 murmured an apology, stopped the car, 
 and alighted. But of this, Mrs. Lofter 
 had failed to take notice. She was too 
 much occupied with her own sensa 
 tions to observe the movements of the 
 69 
 
Mrs. Lofter s Ride 
 
 vulgar herd. Never in her life had 
 she assisted in such a degrading scene. 
 Never again would she put herself in a 
 position where contact would be pos 
 sible with these dregs of humanity, this 
 insufferable street-car rabble. 
 
 A loud guffaw from the seat opposite 
 brought a flush to her cheeks, and a 
 gleam of anger to the contemptuous 
 eyes. There sat, in a convulsion of 
 mirth, a tall, thin-faced, red-bearded 
 man, with an enormous Roman nose. 
 His light-blue eyes were fixed merrily 
 upon her own. One hand was slapping 
 his knee in the very abandon of ecstasy. 
 The other he pressed hard against his 
 vest in the hope of preserving the co 
 hesion of his interior. His laugh was 
 so hearty and contagious that if Mrs. 
 Lofter had been a little more human 
 she might possibly have smiled herself. 
 She then noticed, in looking scornfully 
 over the passengers, that all were laugh 
 ing. The nice old gentleman, who a 
 moment before had been disconcerted 
 70 
 
Mrs. Lofter s Ride 
 
 by the Hibernian catapult, was trying in 
 vain to conceal his amusement. Two 
 well-dressed girls were holding their 
 handkerchiefs to their faces, and squirm 
 ing with uncontrollable glee. Even 
 the anxious, over-worked conductor 
 stood in the doorway with a cheerful 
 grin. Every eye of the confronting 
 faces was fixed merrily upon herself, 
 and she saw that the entire company 
 had surrendered to an offensive gayety 
 which, -instead of dying out, seemed to 
 increase and amplify. Never had she 
 dreamed of such barbarous manners ! 
 Of course, she knew they were a com 
 mon lot, ill-bred, and hopelessly vulgar, 
 or they would never be riding in a 
 street-car ; but this persistent, brutal 
 insolence, this inhuman disregard for oth 
 ers feelings, was more than a surprise. 
 It was a shock. Could it be possible 
 they had combined to affront her ? It 
 required all her self-possession to look 
 haughtily along the line, and let them 
 guess at the infinity of her contempt. 
 71 
 
Mrs. Lofter s Ride 
 
 Suddenly her lips parted ; the hot 
 blood rushed to her face ; her eyes be 
 came wider open. Was she sitting on 
 a pair of what ? They moved ! A 
 little voice down behind her shoulders 
 piped gently up and seemed to say : 
 
 u I beg your pardon, madam, but 
 
 Mrs. Lofter rose to her feet as if 
 driven by electricity. Wheeling about, 
 she looked down upon an overdressed 
 little youth whose mouth was quivering 
 in a pitiable effort to maintain a smile. 
 His face was hotter than her own. 
 
 It would seem that if any apology 
 was due it should emanate from the 
 person who, in a public place and with 
 out invitation, had occupied the lap of 
 a harmless citizen. But the degrada 
 tion of her surroundings had driven 
 from Mrs. Lofter s mind all memory 
 of conventional courtesies. As if the 
 youth had not fully atoned for his un 
 committed sin, her cold eyes lingered 
 for a second upon his changing face, 
 and the glance was so laden with dis- 
 72 
 
Mrs. Lofter s Ride 
 
 dain that the mortifying color came 
 rushing to his cheeks. 
 
 More of this would be unbearable. 
 
 With imperious majesty she motioned 
 the conductor to stop the car, and he 
 pulled the bell. She stepped toward 
 the door, not crestfallen, like a victim 
 in retreat, but with firm eyes and head 
 erect, proudly and with perfect com 
 posure, as a being so far above the 
 encircling clay that the intervening 
 space could not be measured by any 
 standard within their ignoble compre 
 hension. 
 
 But fortune seemed only waiting for 
 a chance to smite heron the other cheek. 
 
 The car stopped ; she alighted from 
 the loathsome conveyance and stepped 
 calmly toward the sidewalk. Before 
 reaching it, however, the conductor 
 called after her. She turned, and he 
 held up his finger. What new affront 
 was hidden beneath this gesture she 
 made no effort to discover. 
 
 But again he spoke, and this time 
 73 
 
Mrs. Lofter s Ride 
 
 his voice was raised above the din of 
 passing carriages, 
 
 " Your fare, lady ! " 
 
 With an unpleasant chill she remem 
 bered that not a cent was in her imme 
 diate possession ; that she held only 
 a card-case, and not even a pocket to 
 her gown ; then, as a fit culmination to 
 this degrading adventure, she saw Mr. 
 Connor speak a word to the conductor 
 and place a coin in his hand. In doing 
 so he raised his hat, but without look 
 ing toward her. Mrs. Lofter s face 
 became first a fiery crimson, then pale 
 with anger. 
 
 Outwardly cool, inwardly at a white 
 heat, she moved up Broadway in icy 
 majesty. Just above Twentieth Street 
 she saw coming toward her one of her 
 most cherished friends ; one of the few 
 women whom she thoroughly envied. 
 Miss Winifred Tailcur was exception 
 ally pretty, enormously wealthy, and the 
 sister-in-law of titled foreigners. One 
 of these purchases was an English 
 74 
 
Mrs. Lofter s Ride 
 
 duke ; the other a Marquis of la Haute 
 Noblesse. The duke was coarse in his 
 manners, and a physical wreck. The 
 marquis was a professional gambler. 
 But in the heart of Mrs. Chillingworth 
 Lofter the family who had achieved a 
 nobleman was forever sanctified, what 
 ever the individual s physical pollution 
 or moral dearth. For Miss Winifred 
 Taileur she cherished a respect that 
 was akin to adoration. It is perhaps 
 unnecessary to say that this friend s 
 social standing was yet more dazzling 
 than her own. 
 
 An agonizing chill drew our hero 
 ine s lips together as she perceived, to 
 her horror, that Winifred was accompa 
 nied by the inevitable Connor. More 
 over, they appeared on excellent terms. 
 Could she believe her eyes ? An inti 
 macy between a Taileur and this un 
 known thing ! 
 
 Miss Winifred came beaming toward 
 her with effusive greeting, for they had 
 not met since April. 
 75 
 
Mrs. Lofter s Ride 
 
 " Why, Helen ! I am so glad to see 
 you ! How well you look ! Such a 
 splendid color ! " Then, after further 
 salutations, and turning partly about, 
 u Let me introduce " 
 
 But Mr. Connor had strolled away 
 *ad was waiting farther on. 
 
 " Why, the brute ! He did n t wait. 
 ( must tell you, Helen," and a most 
 conventional and proper little blush 
 came reluctantly to her cheeks. " You 
 are the first to know it, outside the 
 family, but Mr. Connor and I- 
 
 Mrs. Lofter almost staggered beneath 
 the news. Her friend misinterpreted 
 the emotion. 
 
 u I knew you would be interested, 
 and I am sure you will be great friends. 
 He is a love, and is certain to come 
 into the title within a year or two." 
 
 " Title ! " gasped Mrs. Lofter. 
 What title ? " 
 
 " Why, I thought you knew. He is 
 a nephew of Lord Blathers, the swellest 
 peer in Ireland and the sickest." 
 76 
 
Mrs. Lofter s Ride 
 
 And Winifred s smile was one of sor 
 row and of hope. 
 
 When they parted, a moment later, 
 Mrs. Lofter felt in no condition for 
 making calls. She hurried home ; and 
 as her fellow-travellers of the cable-car 
 were fresh in her mind, she burned her 
 gloves, had her wrap hung out for an 
 airing, and she herself took a very hot 
 bath. 
 
 Then, sufficiently purified in body to 
 approach her Creator, she knelt with 
 bowed head upon a prie-dleu that had 
 belonged to Catherine de Medicis, and 
 for which her husband had paid twenty 
 thousand francs. Her prayer, while 
 ostensibly in thankfulness for her many 
 blessings, was, if the Deity to whom it 
 was addressed had cared to read be 
 tween the lines, a respectful but firm 
 demand for a more watchful guardian 
 ship over the choicer lambkins of his 
 flock. While too well-bred to openly 
 rebuke a Beneficent Being for His 
 shortcomings, she felt that a plain 
 77 
 
Mrs. Lofter s Ride 
 
 statement concerning her recent dese 
 cration was a pious duty. And while 
 wishing the common herd no immedi 
 ate punishment for their hackslidings, 
 it would certainly be well if they were 
 suddenly brought to a proper respect 
 for higher things. 
 
 Whether this prayer miscarried, from 
 being obscurely worded, iMrs. Lofter 
 never learned, but no reward for her 
 martyrdom was received that evening. 
 The martyrdom was, on the contrary, 
 prolonged until a late hour, as they 
 dined at the Bondenwaters, and the 
 gentleman who took her out to dinner 
 was the future nobleman whose repug 
 nance and contempt she had so ably 
 won that afternoon, he who had de 
 frayed the expenses of the most mor 
 tifying and debasing exhibition ever 
 given by a Topping. 
 
Two Portraits 
 
 3 
 
Two Portraits 
 
 J N the old-fashioned library of an old- 
 fashioned house a young man, near 
 an open window, sat writing at a desk. 
 He had pleasant eyes and a pleasant 
 mouth, and the sunburnt face seemed 
 all the browner from its contrast with 
 the light, almost straw-colored hair. 
 
 After folding his letter he sealed and 
 directed the envelope and affixed a 
 stamp ; then he leaned back with a 
 look of relief. Although a good son, 
 this letter to his mother had been an 
 unwelcome effort, as the present visit 
 to his grandfather was absolutely with 
 out incident; and, besides, she knew 
 more of the house, the neighbors, and 
 the old gentleman himself than any 
 other person could ever tell her. Nev- 
 6 81 
 
Two Portraits 
 
 ertheiess, he had covered four pages, 
 and felt now like receiving his reward ; 
 like doing something foolish, something 
 to he ashamed of later. He could go 
 to the village, but it offered no dissipa 
 tions beyond tepid beer and bad cigars, 
 and for these he felt no yearnings. 
 
 For a young man just out of college 
 the world has little to teach, and as he 
 thought of the gouty grandfather in the 
 chamber above, and realized that this 
 visit was to continue four days longer, 
 he began to regret that creation, in its 
 final results, should prove so flat and 
 uneventful. 
 
 Again, for the twentieth time, he 
 looked across the library to the portrait 
 of a girl in an old-fashioned hat, who 
 seemed forever on the point of smiling, 
 yet never did it. She, whoever she 
 was, with her black hair and tranquil 
 eyes, had a gentle, somewhat sad ex 
 pression, and yet, about the mouth there 
 was a suggestion of mischief. And the 
 smile seemed so very imminent that he 
 82 
 
THE PORTRAIT OF A GIRL IX AN OLD-FASHIONED HAT 
 
Two Portraits 
 
 disliked to turn away for fear of miss 
 ing it. He not only smiled himself, as 
 he had often done before, as a form of 
 encouragement, but this time he leaned 
 forward and addressed her, 
 " Please do it. Just once ! " 
 But the prayer was not answered. 
 He looked out the window with the 
 melancholy gaze of a disappointed lover ; 
 then a foolish look came over his face; 
 the look of a foolish man with a foolish 
 idea who has resolved upon a foolish 
 thing. He took half a sheet of note- 
 paper and raised his pen to write. What 
 he wrote seemed to come with an 
 effort : 
 
 " If there is in this world a girl like you, 
 Then count me a lover, stanch and true." 
 
 Looking over at the portrait, he said 
 in a very low tone and with an apolo 
 getic air, " I am not a poet, you know, 
 but the sentiment is correct." 
 
 Folding it twice, until it became 
 quite a narrow strip, he stepped over 
 to the silent girl and pushed his mes- 
 85 
 
Two Portraits 
 
 sage between the canvas and the frame. 
 This brought relief. The foolish thing 
 was done. Perhaps it was more fool 
 ish than the conditions required, but 
 without defining it he felt that in mat 
 ters of love no barriers are more chill 
 ing than caution and common-sense. 
 
 " And, besides," he muttered, as his 
 gaze rested affectionately upon the eyes 
 that seemed so very near a smile, " it 
 is no one s business but our own, and 
 I know you will never tell." 
 
 He stepped back and gravely threw 
 a kiss to the face above him, then 
 politely, and with becoming deference, 
 retreated toward the door. 
 
 As he ascended the stairs he made a 
 bold resolve. He would ask the old 
 gentleman, point-blank, who the paint 
 ing represented. It would be a natural 
 question. Yet, on the other hand, he 
 knew his grandfather never alluded to 
 it, and he also knew, from the house 
 keeper, that the portrait had never ap 
 peared in the house until after his 
 86 
 
Two Portraits 
 
 grandmother s death ; and ever since 
 it had held the place of honor in the 
 library. 
 
 Between the two men, as they sat 
 facing each other, the physical resem 
 blance was striking. Both were tall 
 and slight, with narrow faces, long 
 noses, and pointed chins. Their eyes 
 were of the same shade of blue, and 
 upon both heads the stifF, straight hair 
 was alike, except that with the older 
 man the original straw-color had faded 
 to a yellowish gray. But a closer look 
 at the two faces revealed a fundamen 
 tal difference in expression. With the 
 grandfather there were unmistakable 
 indications of an unamiable and ag 
 gressive spirit, and of that despotic 
 intolerance that is so often the result 
 of long habits of authority. The old 
 man himself was not aware of these 
 distinctions, and it gave him constant 
 pleasure to believe, as he looked upon 
 the frank, sunny face of his grandson, 
 that the only difference was that of 
 87 
 
Two Portraits 
 
 years. Whereas the youth, although 
 taking no pride in his own appearance, 
 felt a mild regret that as an older man 
 he should look precisely like his grand 
 father. But these fears were un 
 founded. In him were the well-springs 
 of undying cheerfulness ; of that per 
 petual youth which years can never 
 dry. 
 
 u How is your foot, grandfather ? 
 Any better ? " 
 
 " No. Yes, perhaps it is. Did you 
 write to your mother ? " 
 
 " Yes, sir. Four pages." 
 
 " And probably forgot everything she 
 wants to know." 
 
 " No, sir, not everything. I told her 
 about " 
 
 " Oh, that s all right. Don t tell 
 me, for I know it already." And he 
 shook his head in a manner that was 
 intended to convey the impression of a 
 playful spirit. Seeing a promising con 
 dition for experiment, the young man 
 ventured his question. 
 
Two Portraits 
 
 " Grandfather, who is that pretty girl 
 in the old-fashioned hat above the library 
 mantel ? I never saw a more interest 
 ing face." 
 
 The tyrannical blue eyes rested upon 
 his own for an instant, as if in indeci 
 sion. " She is an English girl I knew 
 a long time ago, when I was your 
 age. We were great friends, and day 
 after to-morrow when you leave I shall 
 give you a letter to her. She and her 
 daughter live a little way from London. 
 And when you get to England next 
 month I want you to go there, whether 
 you feel like it or not." 
 
 ct All right, sir. I promise. And 
 did she give you that life-size painting 
 of herself?" 
 
 "Yes." 
 
 " She must have been very fond of 
 you." 
 
 Possibly." 
 
 There was a pause, during which 
 they both looked out the window, over 
 the orchard to the meadows beyond. 
 89 
 
Two Portraits 
 
 A happy thought entered the head of 
 the investigator. Perhaps this daughter 
 was the image of her mother ! He hesi 
 tated, then asked, " Is there more than 
 one daughter ? " 
 
 " Only one." 
 
 Then, in ,in offhand, indifferent way, 
 " Does she resemble the portrait? " 
 
 " Not at all. She is rather pretty, 
 but she may have changed. It is forty 
 years since I saw her." 
 
 Forty years ! Cyrus Harding felt 
 himself a broken-hearted man ; and a 
 very foolish one. 
 
 " Oh, of course. How stupid ! : 
 
 u Stupid ? Why stupid ! " 
 
 There was a blush on the grand 
 son s face, and he turned it toward the 
 window. 
 
 " I was only thinking she was 
 younger." 
 
 There was another pause, and each 
 
 seemed lost in his separate revery. At 
 
 last the younger man, whose thoughts 
 
 were still with the portrait, asked, in 
 
 90 
 
Two Portraits 
 
 a gentle, somewhat absent manner, his 
 eyes still fixed upon the meadows, 
 
 " Were you in love with each other ? " 
 
 As no answer came, he looked to 
 ward his ancestor, and he realized his 
 mistake. The chin was raised, the 
 lips compressed, two hostile eyes were 
 fixed coldly upon him, while nervous 
 fingers tapped angrily on the table. 
 
 u Cyrus," he said, slowly, in a voice 
 tremulous with suppressed wrath, " if 
 you live a hundred years longer you 
 may learn that a little tact is a more 
 gentlemanly quality than your brazen 
 impudence. Try it." 
 
 He waved his hand as if to end the 
 interview. The young man rose and 
 stammered an apology as he moved 
 toward the door ; he said he spoke 
 without thinking, and was sincerely 
 sorry to have given offence. 
 
 " That is all right," said the old 
 gentleman, with a perfunctory, unfor 
 giving smile; "I was hasty myself. 
 Excuse me." 
 
 91 
 
Two Portraits 
 
 Two hours later, after his lonely 
 supper, he strolled out into the garden, 
 which was also lonely, and where all 
 the melancholy little sounds of a sum 
 mer evening seemed the utterances of 
 other and yet more lonely spirits. The 
 voice of a whippoorwill from a neigh 
 boring grove betrayed the wavering 
 courage of a forsaken soul. And the 
 moon, as she rose above the orchard, 
 gazed sadly upon him, as if she too, 
 in her eternal solitude, yearned for a 
 companionship of which she found no 
 promise. He strolled dreamilv about 
 the old garden and encouraged the 
 belief that if the original of that exas 
 perating portrait were only here, the 
 world would be always interesting ; 
 then with a bitter smile he murmured, 
 " Grandad and I don t seem to have 
 much luck with our favorite girls." 
 
 After a few turns he entered the 
 
 house, and without intention directed 
 
 his footsteps toward the library. A 
 
 sleepy lamp upon the table illumined 
 
 9- 
 
HE STROLLED DREAMILY ABOUT THE OLD GARDEN 
 
Two Portraits 
 
 the space immediately around it, but 
 left the rest of the room in obscurity. 
 Cyrus threw himself upon a sofa, and, 
 with his eyes upon the portrait, now 
 barely visible in the shadowy light, was 
 soon lost in a peaceful revery. 
 
 But he could see that she was look 
 ing at him. And such a spell was 
 wrought by the silence and the gloom 
 that if, in answer to his own imaginings, 
 the lips had parted and she had spoken, 
 he would hardly have been surprised. 
 An audible conversation between the 
 old-fashioned bookcase and the tall 
 
 clock ticking; in the corner would have 
 
 o 
 
 been in perfect harmony with the 
 mysterious, half-living atmosphere that 
 enveloped the various objects and him 
 self. And these objects were all of a 
 character to meet a ghost halfway. 
 Every article was of a bygone fashion, 
 and, save usage and repairs, the little 
 library was precisely as it existed when 
 his grandfather s father had furnished 
 the house over seventy years ago. 
 95 
 
Two Portraits 
 
 Everything was old, the paper on the 
 walls, the curtains, the carpet, the pic 
 tures, and all the furniture. The only 
 signs of youth were this girl and him 
 self. And she was fifty ! 
 
 As he gazed upon her face in the 
 everlasting hope that the impossible 
 might occur, he detected a little white 
 corner of his note projecting beyond the 
 edge of the frame. Had he been so 
 careless ? Could he have left it in such 
 a clumsy way that the first comer might 
 discover it ? And when he recalled 
 what a silly note it was, he jumped from 
 the sofa and pulled it out. As he held 
 the paper between his fingers to tear it 
 into bits, it seemed thinner and of a dif 
 ferent texture than when he folded it 
 three hours ago ; and he took it to the 
 light. 
 
 This certainly was another kind of 
 paper, finer, more transparent, and even 
 doubled in a different fashion ! And 
 was it a mild perfume that came to his 
 nostrils in the unfolding ? He started 
 96 
 
Two Portraits 
 
 when he saw the writing, a daintier 
 hand than his own, more carefully writ 
 ten, and with a finer pen. 
 
 " Thank you $ but I have no mind 
 For a lover so perversely blind." 
 
 He dropped it upon the table and re 
 turned hastily to the picture. 
 
 " Blind ? " he asked in an anxious 
 whisper. ct Why do you say that ? 
 Why am I blind ? " 
 
 The eyes, through the dim light, 
 looked down into his own and came 
 nearer smiling than ever before. They 
 also seemed more mischievous, and as 
 he bent nearer to catch the answer they 
 took a frightened look, as if annoyed. 
 
 Beneath the lamp he re-read the note. 
 The lines seemed fainter ; and as he 
 gazed, they grew dimmer and dimmer, 
 slowly fading from his sight, until, upon 
 the white surface of the paper, there was 
 no trace of writing. Returning to the 
 portrait, he demanded, 
 
 " What is it I ought to see ? Why 
 not tell me ? " 
 
 7 97 
 
Two Portraits 
 
 But no answer came. Then, re 
 moving the shade from the lamp, he 
 stood upon a chair and 
 carefully examined the 
 
 back 
 
 of the 
 
 painting, 
 
 the frame, the 
 
 canvas,and felt 
 
 everywhere for 
 
 something, he 
 
 knew not what. 
 
 But dust and 
 
 disappointment 
 
 were all he found. 
 
 Returning to the table, he sat down 
 and wrote, 
 
 98 
 
 WHAT IS IT I OUCIIT TO SEE? 
 WHY NOT TELL ME? 
 
Two Portraits 
 
 " Why do you say I am blind ? Why give 
 such a meaningless answer when you know I 
 am in earnest ? For me your face shall always 
 be the first and dearest. 
 
 " Please answer. C. H." 
 
 This note, like its predecessor, was 
 carefully folded, then tucked in the 
 same place, between the canvas and the 
 frame. A moment later, in his most 
 engaging manner, he bowed gracefully 
 to the silent girl and left the room. 
 
 The next morning, at the earliest 
 opportunity, with a respectful, although 
 a conquering air, he approached the 
 portrait. There was in his manner a 
 certain brusqueness and assurance whose 
 object was to remind the lady that she 
 was in honor bound, by their previous 
 intercourse, to refrain from disappointing 
 him. With outward calm, but with 
 inward nervousness, he drew a folded 
 paper from its hiding-place. 
 
 It was his own epistle. He frowned 
 
 at the dark eyes that looked tranquilly 
 
 into his own ; and never had they 
 
 seemed so unresponsive. To judge 
 
 99 
 
Two Portraits 
 
 from their calm, unrecognizing stare, he 
 might have been a stranger. If they 
 told him anything, they told him he 
 had been too familiar ; and as they 
 bore every appearance 
 ot reading his own 
 1 i consciousness of de 
 feat, a flush came 
 creeping over his 
 face. His 
 own blood 
 was mocking 
 L> him ! And 
 this embar 
 rassment from 
 a picture ! 
 
 He laughed, 
 but there was 
 no mirth in it. 
 Jamming the 
 
 note into a pocket, he marched angrily 
 from the room. But in the hall repent 
 ance overtook him, and he turned about. 
 He would give her one more chance. 
 If the eyes were plaintive or sad, as he 
 
Two Portraits 
 
 had often seen them, all would be for 
 given. Glancing severely in her direc 
 tion as he stood in the doorway, he saw, 
 to his mortification, that she had either 
 been laughing or was just going to. 
 
 Let her ! Who cared ? And whist 
 ling loudly a tune he hated, he picked 
 up his hat and left the house. 
 
 " All for a picture ; and of a woman 
 who came within an ace of being my 
 grandmother ! " 
 
 But late that night, when there was 
 no light in the room and all was so dark 
 that even the eyes of the portrait could 
 not detect him, he shoved his note into 
 its old place between her shoulder and 
 the frame. And there he left it. 
 
 101 
 
Two Portraits 
 
 II 
 
 One month later Cyrus Harding got 
 into a train at the Victoria Station and 
 allowed himself to be dragged from the 
 City of London into the County of 
 Kent. His grandfather s letter had de 
 veloped into a nuisance of depressing 
 importance now that its presentation 
 was imminent. It was to keep him 
 twenty-four hours from London, where 
 his time was worth something; and all 
 for a useless ceremony of no possible 
 benefit to anybody. That a young man 
 should travel forty miles in a drenching 
 rain to bore an old lady because she 
 once knew his grandfather was a folly 
 for which he could find no justification. 
 His only solace was from the conscious 
 ness of his own wisdom in selecting for 
 this errand a day so atrociously uncom 
 fortable that its loss was of small im- 
 
Two Portraits 
 
 portance. And the storm showed no 
 signs of deserting him. A heavier, 
 wetter, more industrious rain he had 
 never seen. 
 
 At the little sta 
 tion where he 
 alighted he 
 found an an 
 cient convey 
 ance, small but 
 unreasonably 
 ponderous, and 
 this he entered. 
 The driver, a 
 very old man, 
 who might have 
 been the brother 
 of the vehicle, knew 
 well the Caine- 
 Vedder house, and 
 
 headed his dripping horse in an oppo 
 site direction from the village whose 
 church tower and picturesque chimneys 
 Cyrus had seen through the rain from 
 the car window. 
 
 103 
 
Two Portraits 
 
 About a mile from the station they 
 turned from the turnpike into a private 
 driveway. The driveway lay along the 
 edge of a wood, and swept in a long 
 curve around a lawn of several acres, 
 in the centre of which was a stagnant 
 pond. This lawn, or rather field, for 
 it was covered with high, coarse grass, 
 
 and evidently allowed to take care of it 
 self, afforded an excellent view of a 
 rambling, irregular structure, long, low, 
 of unrelated parts, some of stone and 
 some of brick, with here and there an 
 ivy-covered wall through which the 
 windows were hardly visible. 
 
 The door was opened by a venerable 
 104 
 
Two Portraits 
 
 maid, who ushered him into a spacious, 
 quaint old drawing-room. While she 
 went upstairs with his letter of introduc 
 tion, he amused himself by studying the 
 unusual apartment in which he found 
 himself. It was a long but narrow 
 room, with lofty, deep-embrasured, mul- 
 lioned windows that looked upon the 
 lawn. His grandfather s house, which 
 heretofore he had considered as the 
 most old-fashioned habitation upon the 
 earth, was, as compared with this, a 
 museum of modern improvements. 
 Here were indications of an antiquity 
 beside which his own homestead was a 
 frivolous babe. 
 
 The carved ceiling, the panelled 
 wainscot, white but discolored, that 
 extended to the cornice ; the long 
 mantel, the faded tapestry, the curious 
 old portraits, all formed a harmony so 
 solemn and subduing that he shrunk 
 from moving about, for fear of awaken 
 ing some indefinable thing whose slum 
 bers he might disturb. 
 105 
 
Two Portraits 
 
 As his gaze moved reverentially 
 
 along the walls, it fell upon a little 
 
 portrait that caused him an unexpected 
 
 sensation. His 
 
 :/ .. eyes opened 
 
 ^LH |j ~Lid&&i^^0ff wider in 
 
 surprise 
 
 
 A PORTRAIT OF HIMSELF! 
 
 as he looked more carefully to make 
 sure it was no deception. 
 
 A portrait of himself! 
 
 He arose, and, going nearer, made a 
 closer investigation. His own self was 
 staring calmly hack, amiably but with 
 1 06 
 
Two Portraits 
 
 unfamiliar seriousness, and certainly 
 there was no mistake. 
 
 He blinked, then drew his hand 
 across his eyes. His mystification was 
 complete. And there was something 
 weird and upsetting in thus scrutinizing 
 a face so unmistakably his own. He 
 was hopelessly puzzled ; but, a moment 
 later, he understood. At home the older 
 people had often spoken of the striking 
 resemblance between his grandfather 
 and himself; so striking was it that at 
 the same age they could have passed 
 for twins. And this, probably, was a 
 portrait he had given to the original of 
 the painting in America. He smiled at 
 this further unfolding of the old gentle 
 man s secret. 
 
 The rustling of a gown caused him 
 to wheel suddenly about and to face a 
 second surprise far more upsetting and 
 important than the first. 
 
 The portrait in America had come 
 to life and was standing before him ! 
 
 Young, fresh, with a girlish figure, 
 107 
 
Two Portraits 
 
 and the same eyes ; her hair arranged 
 precisely as in the likeness beyond the 
 sea ! She returned his look with an 
 expression of astonishment more intense 
 than his own. The lips parted, those 
 lips whose double curves he knew so 
 well ! She uttered a whispered excla 
 mation, then took a backward step, in 
 serious alarm, and groped about with a 
 hand, as if seeking support. 
 
 Cyrus, in his own excitement, neg 
 lected to remember that this young 
 lady had every reason to believe that 
 she was confronted by the spirit of a 
 youth who hid sat for the likeness 
 behind him over fifty years ago. 
 
 He came nearer to get a better look, 
 and she retreated step by step, as he 
 approached. Finally, recalling himself, 
 he apologized : 
 
 " I beg your pardon, but I am so fa 
 miliar with your face I mean I have 
 seen your portrait so often that is, a 
 portrait of your grandmother, perhaps, 
 that I was very much surprised." 
 108 
 
Two Portraits 
 
 Thereupon she recovered her own 
 composure and waved him toward a 
 chair. 
 
 " Please be seated ; " and she placed 
 herself upon a little sofa some distance 
 away. This extreme formality embar 
 rassed him. Then, partly from habit, 
 and partly from that mental vacuum 
 which visits the best of men at critical 
 moments, he alluded to the weather. 
 
 " It is a pleasant day." 
 
 She looked toward the storm that was 
 blowing the rain in drenching sheets 
 across the lawn, and answered with a 
 serious face, 
 
 Yes, it is." 
 
 Then there was a pause which she 
 was the first to break. 
 
 " My grandmother will be ready to 
 see you in a moment. She is an invalid 
 and seldom comes downstairs." 
 
 What a pleasant voice ! It was low 
 and soft, and he waited a moment in 
 the hope that she would go on and say 
 something more. Regarding her more 
 
Two Portraits 
 
 carefully, he was struck anew by the 
 amazing resemblance to the picture. 
 No painter, whatever his skill, could 
 have reproduced with greater faithful 
 ness, or with more precision, the details 
 of the face before him. As she looked 
 up from the folded hands in her lap 
 and encountered his earnest gaze, she 
 seemed surprised and somewhat embar 
 rassed. Ashamed of thus staring her 
 out of countenance, he hastened to re 
 trieve himself. 
 
 " It is curious a likeness painted so 
 long ago should bear such a startling 
 resemblance to another person." 
 
 Involuntarily her eyes moved to the 
 little portrait near the chimney, then 
 back to the speaker. There certainly 
 was no doubt of the resemblance. The 
 painting was an accurate transcript in 
 color, features, and expression, of his 
 own face, which at that moment was 
 turned toward the window. He was 
 doing his best to think of an appropriate 
 remark. There was something in this 
 
Two Portraits 
 
 girl s presence that stimulated him to a 
 brilliant effort, yet his head was never 
 so empty. 
 
 " Yes, it is quite remarkable," she 
 acquiesced. 
 
 Then with a glance in which he 
 intended to convey only as much admi 
 ration as was consistent with a first 
 interview, he added, 
 
 u Attractive as it is, however, it falls 
 far short of doing justice to the de 
 scendant of the sitter." 
 
 She looked at him in surprise. And 
 at this moment he detected, for the first 
 time, that expression he knew so well, 
 as of repressing a smile. For a second 
 the smile became almost perceptible, 
 then disappeared. 
 
 " This is a case," he continued, " that 
 proves a portrait can be a truthful like 
 ness, and yet miss the greatest charm 
 of the person whom at the present 
 moment it most resembles." 
 
 Again she regarded him with wide- 
 open eyes. She had heard that men 
 
Two Portraits 
 
 were vain, but for this stupendous, 
 overpowering mixture of simplicity and 
 conceit she was unprepared. To be 
 sure, he was the first American she had 
 ever met, and this inspired her to an 
 heroic effort to consider him from his 
 own point of view. 
 
 With his best smile he went on, 
 u No face could make a stronger or 
 more lasting impression, for no face 
 that I have ever seen represents so 
 much that is lovable and winning." 
 
 Her lips parted for a polite acquies 
 cence, but the voice failed to respond. 
 In this man s complacent vanity there 
 was something so grotesque, so over 
 whelming and incredible, that her organs 
 of speech suffered a temporary paralysis. 
 She sat facing him in dumb surprise. 
 Cyrus saw this look, but mistook its 
 cause. He now remembered that Eng 
 lish girls were considered more simple 
 than their American cousins; that their 
 wits were less nimble and their percep 
 tions duller. She evidently had not 
 114 
 
Two Portraits 
 
 understood him. He must use a heavier 
 hand. Guided by this happy thought, 
 he added, 
 
 " In the portrait, while the hair, the 
 eyes and mouth are all of exquisite 
 beauty, one cannot help feeling, in spite 
 of its wealth of expression, that the 
 artist has not done justice to the living 
 face it so strongly resembles." 
 
 She began to be annoyed, and some 
 what alarmed. And yet, with her alarm, 
 she felt a sympathy. In spite of his 
 nauseating vanity, the voice and bearing 
 were those of a gentleman, and there 
 was something in his manner that belied 
 the vainglory of his words. Cyrus was 
 quick to perceive that these speeches 
 were unwelcome. Leaning back in his 
 chair, he concluded by saying, 
 
 " Excuse me if my speaking in this 
 way has offended you, but you would un 
 derstand if you could see the portrait." 
 
 " I am familiar with your portrait." 
 
 " With my portrait ? " 
 
 " You mean that one, I suppose ? " 
 
Two Portraits 
 
 and she bowed coldly toward the 
 chimney. 
 
 Cyrus blushed to the very roots of 
 his straw-colored hair. What an ass 
 she must think him ! 
 
 "Oh, no ! Please don t think 
 that ! " he exclaimed, straightening up. 
 u I referred to the portrait of your 
 self I mean your grandmother in 
 America ! " 
 
 Again he saw the familiar look as if 
 she had just been laughing, or was on 
 the verge of it. This increased his 
 embarrassment, and he began a further 
 explanation. But there was a step in 
 the hall as of a lame person, and with 
 it the rustle of an approaching gown. 
 He felt a serious grudge against her 
 grandmother for arriving at such a 
 moment. 
 
 As the old lady entered he looked in 
 vain for some resemblance to the paint 
 ing in America ; but whatever similarity 
 might formerly have existed had evi 
 dently long since departed. Even the 
 116 
 
Two Portraits 
 
 features and proportions of the head 
 seemed altered. The upper lip was 
 longer, the whole face heavier, and, it 
 appeared to him, of a harder expression 
 than in the olden days. He made a 
 low bow and advanced to take the 
 hand of welcome when offered. 
 
 u Your grandmother says as she is 
 ready to see the gentleman, Miss Ethel, 
 and opes he will walk upstairs. * 
 
 Cyrus straightened up. Anothei 
 blush, hotter than the first, spread over 
 his face, and he felt it behind his ears 
 as it wandered leisurely to the back of 
 his neck and tingled down his spine. 
 
 " Very well," the young lady an 
 swered ; " we will go up at once." 
 
 Cyrus turned his eyes toward Miss 
 Vedder s face. In her own eyes and 
 about the edges of her mouth he found 
 the exasperating look that used to mys 
 tify him in the portrait, but now inten 
 sified to a positive smile ; gentle and 
 evanescent, half mischievous, and evi 
 dently enjoyable to the owner. And 
 117 
 
Two Portraits 
 
 this time really there. At this another 
 blush, deeper, hotter, and slower than 
 the last, crawled over his angry face and 
 then, as it were, seated itself to further 
 enjoy the situation. With these ances 
 tral blushes, which only assailed him 
 when least endurable, he had also in 
 herited a hot, sudden little temper ; and 
 for the moment he felt a strong desire 
 to slam a door in these women s faces 
 and march out into the storm. 
 
 When he fully recovered his senses, 
 he was upstairs in a large, old-fashioned 
 chamber, talking calmly and with out 
 ward amiability to the unmistakable 
 original of the portrait. The hair was 
 white, the features changed with pass 
 ing years ; but it was a handsome, kindly, 
 high-bred face, and he felt like offering 
 a humble apology when he compared 
 it with the tough old visage of the 
 housekeeper. Mrs. Caine-Vedder gave 
 him a cordial welcome, was sincerely 
 glad to see him, and insisted upon his 
 promising them a little visit. 
 

Two Portraits 
 
 The result was that three days later 
 Cyrus, with his trunk, came down from 
 London for a fortnight s sojourn in this 
 weather-stained, ivy-bound, restful old 
 homestead. 
 
Two Portraits 
 
 III 
 
 In the deep recess of one of the 
 Tudor windows of the drawing-room 
 were seated Cyrus and the granddaugh 
 ter of the portrait. It was the golden 
 twilight of an October afternoon, that 
 mysterious hour when the human being 
 with a poem in his soul rinds it toying 
 with his brain ; when proudest hearts 
 yield to the bondage that, since love 
 began, has brought unspeakable happi 
 ness or enduring grief. 
 
 Then is the hour for care and cir 
 cumspection ; and then is the hour 
 when care and circumspection are of 
 fensive to a lover s soul. 
 
 The maiden s eyes were turned to 
 ward the light, looking over the un- 
 kept lawn to the golden band along 
 the western sky. Her thoughts might 
 be many miles away, but the young 
 
Two Portraits 
 
 man was not deceived by appearances. 
 While she gazed thus absently upon 
 nothing in particular, he, with no as 
 sumption of indifference, was studying 
 in beatific content the dainty head and 
 face that seemed unconscious of his 
 existence. But the dark eyes at last 
 turned slowly toward him. 
 
 " Is it the custom in America to 
 stare at a girl until she has to leave the 
 room ? " 
 
 " Yes ; when there is nothing else 
 to look at." 
 
 " There is your own portrait. It 
 seems to excite your enthusiasm more 
 than anything else in the house." 
 
 " Oh, rub it in ! You don t mind 
 hitting a man when he s down." 
 
 " But you are never down. You 
 are always up." 
 
 " Why do you say that ? " 
 
 " Because you are irrepressible. At 
 times almost unendurable." 
 
 " Thank you. I wonder if all Eng 
 lish girls are so subtle in their praises ; 
 123 
 
Two Portraits 
 
 so overflowing with gentleness and 
 tender consideration for others." 
 
 " No ; but they would be if pursued 
 (Jay after day by obnoxious invaders 
 who insisted upon marrying them in 
 spite of themselves ; if from unexpected 
 corners, wherever they went, offers of 
 marriage were perpetually jumping out. 
 Take to-day as a specimen. This morn 
 ing all the time we rode, and afterwards 
 at golf, then all through the woods to the 
 village and back, the same persistent, 
 sulky, bullying foreigner at my elbow 
 insisting that I shall fall in love with 
 him. And here you are again ; and 
 you have been at it for an hour ! " 
 
 With a long-drawn sigh the haughty 
 little head leaned wearily back against 
 the panelling of the window. Cyrus 
 seemed absorbed in the sunset and made 
 no reply. There was a long pause, 
 which at last she broke by asking: 
 
 u Is it getting ready for a storm ? " 
 
 " Probably. That is the usual con 
 dition on this soggy little island." 
 124 
 
Two Portraits 
 
 After another silence he continued : 
 
 " Although I shall never see you 
 again, I am glad to have been here." 
 
 " Thank you." 
 
 " I am glad to have seen with my 
 own eyes a type of woman I had read 
 about, but in whose existence I never 
 believed, the woman of inviting ex 
 terior, still young, yet with a heart too 
 cold and tough for human affection." 
 
 Yes ? " 
 
 " A parrot or a fat old cat will easily 
 absorb what superfluous love you will 
 ever bestow upon anything outside 
 yourself." 
 
 A faint smile came into the face of 
 Miss Ethel Vedder, but Cyrus missed 
 it. 
 
 U I suppose," he went on, "you will 
 marry the usual bad-mannered, long- 
 upper-lipped, self-satisfied, dull-witted, 
 brandy-and-soda Englishman." 
 
 " If I can catch him." 
 
 From his end of the window came 
 a long-drawn sigh, followed by a gen- 
 125 
 
Two Portraits 
 
 tie humming and a poor accompa 
 niment by his lingers on a pane of 
 glass. 
 
 " Well, after to-morrow you will be 
 rid of me ; " and he arose and strode 
 away from the window. With his 
 hands in his pockets he stood gazing 
 gloomily upon the full-length portrait 
 of a cavalier of the time of Charles 
 the First. 
 
 " Who is this mean-faced old fool in 
 pantalets ? " 
 
 Her eyes turned lazily in that 
 direction. 
 
 " A gentleman who never forced 
 his way into private houses to insult 
 the ancestors of his hostess." 
 
 Cyrus smiled, and returning to the 
 window resumed his seat, but this time 
 the distance between himself and the 
 lady was considerably less. Leaning 
 forward, he began earnestly, 
 
 "Oh, Ethel " 
 
 " You must n t call me that." 
 
 u Why keep this up ? You know 
 
YOU MUSTN T CALL ME THAT 
 
Two Portraits 
 
 I love you sincerely, with my whole 
 soul, as I never " 
 
 u There you go again ! " and with a 
 sigh, as from a patient spirit that is 
 finally goaded beyond endurance, she 
 arose and walked away. He followed 
 and stood beside her, near the fire. 
 
 " Very well, then, you shall have no 
 more of it. I have annoyed you for 
 the last " 
 
 " Did you do that ? " she interrupted 
 in an excited whisper, catching him by 
 the arm and pointing toward the wall. 
 
 " Do what ? " 
 
 "The paper in that frame! Did 
 you put it there ? " 
 
 He saw something white, like the 
 corner of a note, projecting from the 
 inner edge of the frame that held 
 
 O 
 
 the little portrait of his grandfather. 
 
 "No. I did not." 
 
 In her agitation she appeared to for 
 get her antipathy to the young man, and 
 the grasp upon his arm was not relaxed. 
 
 " I will tell you something," she went 
 9 I2 9 
 
Two Portraits 
 
 on, in the same hurried whisper. " No, 
 I won t either ; " and withdrawing her 
 hand, she advanced timidly toward the 
 picture, took the paper from its place, 
 and went over to the window. There 
 she read it carefully, once, and then a 
 second time. He had followed her 
 across the room, and as she stood be 
 fore him in the glow of the fading sun 
 set, another and a deeper glow came 
 creeping over her face. Lowering her 
 eyes, and in a voice so faint that he 
 bent forward to catch it, she said : 
 
 " I think, on the whole, that I will 
 tell you." 
 
 Then, turning away her eyes to avoid 
 his own, she continued : u One even 
 ing, about this hour, a month or two 
 ago, I was sitting in that old chair 
 facing your port your grandfather s 
 portrait, and 1 was wondering if the 
 original of the face was as interesting 
 as the picture." 
 
 " Really, did you do that ? " 
 
 " But that was before meeting the 
 130 
 
Two Portraits 
 
 obnoxious American who happens to 
 resemble it." 
 
 " That speech is more like you ; " 
 and he turned away and looked out 
 the window. 
 
 "Well, as I sat there I saw, in the 
 dim light, the edge of a note, and as I 
 watched the little white point it came 
 further and further out, as if slowly 
 pushed from behind. I thought I must 
 be dreaming, but there it certainly was, 
 and no human hands were near it. 
 You may think me silly, but I was 
 frightened and left the room. I came 
 back, however, mustered all my cour 
 age, and took it to my chamber. There 
 were two lines, 
 
 " If in all this world there s a girl like you, 
 Then count me a lover stanch and true. 
 
 As these words reached his ears, 
 Cyrus bent forward in speechless aston 
 ishment with a look so strained and 
 so eager that she stopped short in her 
 
 story. 
 
Two Portraits 
 
 " Why, what is the matter ? " 
 
 u Did you answer that note ? " he 
 asked, still bending forward with the 
 keenest interest. 
 
 " Yes." 
 
 " And you tucked your answer in 
 the frame yonder ? " 
 
 " Yes." 
 
 " And you wrote, 
 
 " Thank you, but I have no mind 
 For a lover so perversely blind. 
 
 It was the young lady s turn to be 
 surprised, and her eyes opened wide in 
 amazement. 
 
 " Why, how did you know ? " 
 
 " Because I received it in Amer 
 ica. I found it in the corner of the 
 portrait of yourself where I placed the 
 first." 
 
 " Ton placed the first ! You wrote 
 it ? " 
 
 "I did." 
 
 She took a step backward and leaned 
 against the side of the window. With 
 132 
 
Two Portraits 
 
 her astonishment there was also a touch 
 of fear. 
 
 " But, tell me," he said, " why you 
 wrote c perversely blind ? Why was I 
 blind ? " 
 
 u Because the stupid youth who sent 
 the message had his eyes upon me all 
 the time, and yet pretended to doubt 
 my existence." 
 
 Cyrus smiled. " Of course ! And I 
 hardly slept that night for trying to 
 guess what you meant." 
 
 " Then you wrote this one, too ? " 
 and she held forth the note that was 
 just received. 
 
 He read it aloud, 
 
 " Why do you say I am blind ? Why give 
 such a meaningless answer when you know I 
 am in earnest ? For me your face shall always 
 be the first and dearest. 
 
 " Please answer. C. H." 
 
 Mystified, he looked into her face, 
 then down again at the paper. 
 
 " Yes. I wrote it. These are my 
 initials. Why did n t you answer ? " 
 33 
 
Two Portraits 
 
 For a moment she was too much 
 overcome to reply. Gazing at him in 
 silence, she was wondering what inex 
 plicable power had seen fit to concern 
 itself with this affair. It was super 
 natural ; so fairy-like and miraculous, 
 so beyond her comprehension, that it 
 brought a feeling of awe and a mild, 
 indefinable terror. But when he re 
 peated his question, she answered, 
 
 " How could I ? It was getting too 
 serious, and I had no idea from whom 
 it came. And, besides, to tell the truth, 
 I was a little frightened. In fact, I am 
 now," she added with a nervous laugh, 
 u for it is all very mysterious. How 
 do you explain it ? " 
 
 Cyrus smiled and came a little nearer. 
 
 u By the intervention of an immortal 
 messenger, the little god who helps 
 true lovers." 
 
 Again the color was in her cheeks, 
 and that look about the mouth he knew 
 so well ; then a smile that set his pulse 
 to beating faster. 
 
 "34 
 
Two Portraits 
 
 " Perhaps you are right," she said, 
 and held out her hands. 
 
 But the young man ignored the 
 hands, and took the girl herself into his 
 arms. 
 
The Man Who Vanished 
 
The Man Who Vanished 
 
 A 
 
 CERTAIN hunter, clad in appro 
 priate raiment, and armed with 
 a fowling-piece of costly mechanism, 
 sought diversion in a forest. 
 
 O 
 
 His first effort was a failure. The 
 squirrel at which he aimed darted around 
 the tree as the trigger was pulled, and 
 looked down with an irritating expres 
 sion. There was a look in his eye 
 which seemed to say, 
 
 " Not this time, smarty ! " 
 
 And the movement was executed 
 with a nervous twitching of the tail- 
 itself an impertinence. 
 
 The hunter, a man of dignity and 
 
 social position, was justly annoyed by 
 
 this want of consideration, and he fired 
 
 again. But the agile native continued 
 
 139 
 
The Man Who Vanished 
 
 to keep the trunk of the tree between 
 them. At last the hunter, disgusted 
 by the animal s self-will, passed on for 
 other game. 
 
 He had been reared by pious parents ; 
 and that one of the lower animals should 
 thus take upon himself to oppose the 
 will of man, created in God s image, 
 brought a shock to his higher nature, 
 and, for the time being, almost shook 
 his faith in Providence. But this faith, 
 a few minutes later, was re-established. 
 Taking deliberate and careful aim at 
 a noisy woodpecker, and pulling the 
 trigger before the bird was aware of his 
 presence, he brought him to the ground 
 with his head nearly severed from his 
 body. Leaning the gun against a tree, 
 he stepped forward and picked up the 
 corpse. By one of its legs he held it 
 before him and admired its beauty ; and 
 there came a thrill of pride that he had 
 done his work so well. As thus 
 he stood, in silent contemplation, the 
 crackling of a twig made him turn 
 140 
 
The Man Who Vanished 
 
 about, and the thing he saw drove the 
 blood from his cheeks. A large brown 
 bear, erect upon his hind legs, his eyes 
 on a level with his own, stood within a 
 dozen feet, his arms akimbo, and a smile 
 upon his face. A cold tremor crawled 
 up the hunter s spine, as, with dilated 
 eyes and fallen jaw, he took a back 
 ward step. One step only, and then he 
 stopped, for his knees seemed giving 
 way beneath him. 
 
 " That was a good shot," said the 
 bear, with a pleasant nod, but his smile, 
 although far-reaching and persistent, did 
 not seem, to the hunter, the outward 
 expression of an inward benevolence. 
 u Had a grudge against him ? " 
 
 The man tried to answer, but his 
 lips were dry, and his tongue refused to 
 work ; so he shook his head. 
 
 " Noisy, perhaps, but he was a good 
 enough fellow. I know his wife ; a 
 nice bird. She 11 be sorry. But t was 
 a good shot, although you did take him 
 at a disadvantage ; eh ? " 
 141 
 
The Man Who Vanished 
 
 " I suppose I did," whispered the 
 hunter, whose voice was hoarse and 
 came with difficulty. 
 
 " Shot him because you are uncom 
 fortably empty ? " inquired the bear, 
 still smiling, as he glanced at the gen 
 erous waist of his companion. 
 
 " Oh, no." 
 
 u From public spirit, perhaps ? You 
 thought the world better without him ? " 
 
 "No." 
 
 " Just for the fun of it ? " 
 
 " I suppose so." 
 
 " Well, it s good sport. That is, 
 of course, for the chap who holds the 
 gun." 
 
 The sportsman stole a glance toward 
 his weapon, which, unfortunately, was 
 the other side of the offensive brute. 
 
 " Is n t it ? " 
 
 " Er-what ? " 
 
 u You seem nervous," and the crea 
 ture laughed, his loose sides shaking 
 as if something funny had been said. 
 "You don t want that gun. It might 
 142 
 
The Man Who Vanished 
 
 go off and hurt something. We are 
 safer without it." And he continued 
 to smile. " You seem embarrassed," 
 he said with another offensive chuckle. 
 " I am afraid you are not enjoying 
 yourself. You don t appear to possess 
 a very fine sense of humor." 
 
 The hunter did not answer. He was 
 considering the chances of making a 
 dash to one side, then jumping for the 
 gun. The bear seemed to divine this 
 intent, for he laid a paw, with the claws 
 out, on the gentleman s sleeve, saying in 
 a cheery, conversational manner, 
 
 " It s curious what a difference in 
 results the position of a gun can make. 
 If, for instance, you had held on to that 
 weapon you would have bear s meat to 
 spare, to say nothing of a splendid 
 hearth-rug for next winter. Whereas 
 now you postpone the bear s meat, 
 and that hearth-rug will serve for 
 my overcoat, and a warm one, too. 
 Loose, perhaps, but a nice comfort 
 able fit." 
 
 10 145 
 
The Man Who Vanished 
 
 The hunter could not answer. His 
 lips moved, but there was no sound. 
 The stern voice that brought terror to 
 all in his employ and even to his 
 own family had fled to some remote 
 corner of his interior, and refused to 
 come forth. 
 
 " It must require some courage to 
 march into the forest, armed only with 
 a shot-gun, among all these blood 
 thirsty birds and squirrels. But then, of 
 course, a hunter has to take chances." 
 
 There was a silence, for the man 
 said nothing. He was trying to get his 
 wits together, but it required all his 
 intellect to keep his knees from letting 
 him down. 
 
 " By the way, what s the price of 
 bear s meat this morning ? " 
 
 " I don t know." 
 
 The man tried to edge away, but the 
 claws were still in the sleeve. 
 
 " Excuse my reverting to it, but 
 did you kill that woodpecker in self- 
 defence ? " 
 
 146 
 
The Man Who Vanished 
 
 No." 
 
 " Children starving ? " 
 
 "No." 
 
 " From a general sense of duty, 
 perhaps ? " 
 
 " No. Just for sport." 
 
 " I am glad you approve of that sort 
 of thing, as it gives me your own 
 personal indorsement of a little plan of 
 my own. I am something of a hunter 
 myself." 
 
 " Yes ? " 
 
 " Oh, yes ! But I do it for busi 
 ness. I have a family to feed, and 
 they are hungry now. When I left 
 home this morning, I gave my word 
 that I would bring a dinner or not re 
 turn, and a fellow takes a big risk in 
 getting between a hunter and his gun, 
 especially when they are less than ten 
 feet apart. By the way, what time 
 is it ? " 
 
 The hunter looked at his watch. 
 
 " How your hand trembles ! Does 
 it always shake like that ? " 
 147 
 
The Man Who Vanished 
 
 " No." 
 
 " Only when you are tired ? " 
 
 " Perhaps," and his voice was a 
 hoarse whisper. 
 
 " What you need is a rest ; a good 
 long one. But what time did you say 
 it was ? " 
 
 " Ten minutes of eleven." 
 
 " Why, we ought to dine at noon, 
 and they expect me to bring the dinner. 
 Won t you come and rill a place ? I 
 might say, fill several places." And 
 again his sides began to shake. u I 
 don t know how much of a diner-out 
 you are, but you will never be of more 
 service at a meal than you will to-day." 
 
 Then, placing his paw inside the 
 hunter s arm, they started off. The 
 host seemed amiable and tried his best, 
 as they walked along, to engage his 
 guest in conversation, but the man ap 
 peared depressed, and was silent. He 
 simply answered questions until the 
 bear inquired if he had a family. 
 
 " Yes, I have ! a wife and two chil- 
 148 
 
The Man Who Vanished 
 
 dren. Think of them if you have no 
 consideration for me ! " 
 
 They stopped, and stood facing each 
 other, but there was always a paw on 
 the hunter s arm. 
 
 " Are they starving ? " 
 
 No." 
 
 u But if they were starving and I 
 had appeared in your front yard this 
 morning, can you gi\^e me your word 
 of honor there would not have been 
 bear for dinner ? " 
 
 " I don t know." 
 
 " No, I suppose not. But as my 
 wife and three daughters are dying of 
 starvation, literally fading away before 
 my eyes, I know that you, as a father, 
 will not blame me for supplying them 
 with a square meal. And, by the way, 
 if it were your good fortune to serve as 
 a banquet for a nice family of bears 
 a thoroughly appreciative and grateful 
 family would it make any difference 
 to you in what style you were brought 
 on ? " 
 
 149 
 
The Man Who Vanished 
 
 The hunter licked his lips and 
 wobbled his jaw, but he failed to 
 answer, and they disappeared among 
 the trees. 
 
 There was soon a great rejoicing in 
 the Bruin family. And later on, hav 
 ing rid themselves of that goneness 
 which is the inevitable result of meals 
 too long deferred, they passed a fuller 
 and a happier afternoon than they had 
 known for many months. 
 
 This tale is not a sad one even from 
 a human point of view, as the man was 
 wealthy and very close, and his family, 
 had he lived, would have derived little 
 benefit from his money. Moreover, 
 he was a bully at home and used to 
 open his wife s letters. 
 
 150 
 
A Bachelor s Supper 
 
A Bachelor s Supper 
 
 AW HEN one man has served another 
 for twenty years as valet, chamber 
 maid and errand-boy, he not only ac 
 quires an accurate knowledge of his 
 master s life and habits, but he forms 
 definite opinions as to his inner man 
 and past career. Moreover, there are 
 few secrets he has not guessed at. 
 
 Old Clem knew Mr. Valentine had 
 led a comfortable and uneventful bach 
 elor existence during the last dozen 
 years. He also knew, or rather had 
 heard, that as a younger man he had 
 tasted freely of life s pleasures ; that his 
 youth had been jolly and his manhood 
 genial. Now, a handsome old gentle 
 man of seventy, always courteous and 
 sometimes merry, with a well-behaved 
 
A Bachelor s Supper 
 
 constitution and a sufficient fortune, he 
 was gliding gracefully down the shady 
 side of life. Although still an occa 
 sional diner-out, he seldom entertained 
 in his own apartments and Clem was 
 naturally surprised, the night before 
 Christmas, on being told to have the 
 table set for eight people at half-past 
 eleven. It was then nearly ten o clock. 
 
 " But, sah, dey ain t suppah for no 
 eight people ! " 
 
 " Never mind that, Clem." 
 
 " Never mind de suppah ! Den 
 whar s de use in settin places ? " 
 
 " That s all right, Clem ; you just 
 set the table, and put on the very best 
 china. Put on the best we have or 
 everything. It is a sudden idea of 
 mine, a little Christmas celebration, 
 and I want it as perfect as possible." 
 
 Clem s dark face expressed a mild 
 disapproval, and he asked with a touch 
 of irony, 
 
 " Any wine ? " 
 
 " Yes, put on one bottle of that old 
 156 
 
A Bachelor s Supper 
 
 Madeira," and then added as if to him 
 self, " that is a ladies wine." 
 
 " Ladies ! " said Clem, and this time 
 there was fearless disapprobation in 
 his tone. u Is der to be nuthin but 
 ladies ? " 
 
 But Mr. Valentine seemed to be 
 drifting off into a revery, and made no 
 answer. Clem waited a moment, then 
 left the room. With serious misgiv 
 ings he began the preparations for what 
 promised to be an exceptionally unsatis 
 fying banquet. 
 
 As Mr. Valentine sat before the fire, 
 his clean-cut features and handsome 
 eyes made it easy to believe the stories 
 of his early successes with the gentler 
 sex. Although over seventy, he re 
 tained the bearing and manner of a 
 youngish man. 
 
 And now, in his big chair, the half- 
 closed eyes shutting out the scene before 
 him, he goes back some forty years to 
 a certain ball-room on an eventful sum 
 mer night. He takes her from the 
 
A Bachelor s Supper 
 
 other dancers out into the moonlight, 
 down to the little boat-house. And 
 then, just for the joke of it, she in her 
 ball-dress, he in a swallow-tail, they get 
 into a boat and row over to the island, 
 
 the music from the shore filling the air 
 about them. 
 
 How long they stayed upon the rocks, 
 how close they sat, or what he said to 
 her or she to him, was never published ; 
 but when they wish to return, the boat 
 is gone. He sees it floating down the 
 158 
 
A Bachelor s Supper 
 
 river a hundred yards away. Then 
 there is a clinging scene, she in her ball- 
 dress and he in his swallow-tail, and he 
 remembers the moist eyes and quivering 
 lips. He hurries to the lower end of 
 the island, removes the swallow-tail, 
 and everything else, and plunging in, 
 strikes out into the black river. The cur 
 rent is with him, and he reaches the boat. 
 But the pulling back ! Now, in his old 
 age, he wonders how he did it. Half 
 an hour later they re-enter the ball-room, 
 while the last dance is on. They also 
 take a spin about the room, and no one 
 suspects what has happened. 
 
 He rose from his chair, with a long 
 sigh, and stepped into the dining-room 
 where Clem had started a fire and put a 
 leaf in the table. These serious prepa 
 rations make him realize what a childish 
 entertainment he is giving himself. 
 
 " T is a tribute to them ; and who 
 knows if I shall see another Christmas ? 
 Moreover, if I choose to make a fool 
 of myself, it is my own affair." 
 59 
 
A Bachelor s Supper 
 
 Clem entered with a large pasteboard 
 box. 
 
 " Dis yer s just come, sah. It s 
 flowers, I reckon." 
 
 " Ah, yes, those are the flowers. 
 There are seven bunches in there, 
 Clem. Put a bunch at each plate, ex 
 cept mine." 
 
 Clem retired to the kitchen ; and as 
 he laid the box in a cool place, he re 
 marked to the cook, 
 
 u Hope dey 11 like der smell o dese 
 yer flowers, for it looks mighty like dey 
 was n t goin ter git anything else." 
 
 Mr. Valentine in the mean time re 
 turned to his library and seated himself 
 at an old-fashioned desk. From a little 
 drawer he took a letter and a daguerro- 
 type. The letter was yellow and con 
 siderably worn, with the appearance 
 of having been opened and read and 
 laid away a great many times. He 
 placed it reverently before him and 
 read once again the words he knew by 
 heart : 
 
 160 
 
A Bachelor s Supper 
 
 " SILLY BOY : 
 
 u Do you take seriously everything a 
 woman says? L. 
 
 "P. S. To-morrow afternoon about 
 half-past three a foolish girl on a bobtail 
 horse will be in that lane between the 
 bridge and Holbrookes farm" 
 
 At this point something fell upon the 
 page which Mr. Valentine blotted up 
 carefully with his handkerchief. Lay 
 ing the daguerrotype upon the letter, 
 he gazed silently upon the features of a 
 raven beauty with gentle eyes and a 
 most inviting mouth. As he laid the 
 portrait and the letter back into the 
 drawer, Clem appeared in the doorway. 
 
 " Sence dey s ter be some style at dis 
 yer suppah, p raps it 11 be bettah ter have 
 two to wait on de table. But as dey 
 ain t no food and only one bottle of wine, 
 I s pose I 11 be enough." 
 
 u You 11 be one too many, Clem. 
 I want you to go to bed after the table 
 is set, and not be around at all." 
 ii 161 
 
A Bachelor s Supper 
 
 " Not be around at all ! " 
 
 " No, Clem." 
 
 41 Den whose ter let de guests in ? " 
 
 u Nobody that is, I can do it my 
 self if necessary." 
 
 As his servant departed, he muttered, 
 u What an old fool he thinks I am." 
 
 And the guess was not wide of the 
 mark. Old Clem was seriously alarmed ; 
 for although his master had never yet 
 shown any of the usual symptoms of 
 mental derangement, he knew those 
 things often came suddenly and without 
 warning. But he set the table with 
 unusual care. 
 
 At precisely half-past eleven he 
 knocked at the door of Mr. Valentine s 
 chamber, and, receiving no answer after 
 a second knock, he slowly opened the 
 door. The old gentleman was lying 
 upon the bed, apparently asleep. Clem 
 noticed that he had donned a fresh shirt 
 and a white cravat. As he touched his 
 arm, Mr. Valentine slowly opened his 
 eyes and at first did not seem to realize 
 162 
 
A Bachelor s Supper 
 
 just where he was. He arose from the 
 bed, however, and there was a little 
 flush in each cheek that made his 
 pleasant old face look younger than 
 ever. 
 
 " Thank you, Clem," he said. " I 
 must have been asleep. I 11 be right 
 out." 
 
 Five minutes later Mr. Valentine en 
 tered the dining-room in full evening 
 dress, with a rose in his coat, a smile 
 upon his face, and the same rejuvenating 
 flush upon his cheeks. Clem was sur 
 prised to see how young and fresh the 
 old gentleman looked. He also realized 
 that while his color was most becoming, 
 and came and went as with a girl of 
 sixteen, it might be an unfavorable 
 symptom with a man of seventy. But 
 Mr. Valentine was in excellent spirits, 
 although quiet and, at intervals, even" 
 absent in his manner. His eye was 
 bright and his step elastic as he made 
 the tour of the table, giving here and 
 there a finishing touch. He compli- 
 163 
 
A Bachelor s Supper 
 
 merited Clem on his promptness and 
 good taste. 
 
 " And now, Clem," he said, glancing 
 at the tall clock in the corner of the 
 room, u you may go to bed. And 
 remember you are not to return to 
 night, or even look into the room." 
 
 Seeing upon the black face a re 
 proach for being excluded from such 
 an unusual festivity, he laid a hand 
 affectionately upon his shoulder and 
 added, 
 
 " I may tell you about it sometime, 
 but this little party to-night is to be so 
 terribly select that not even the supper 
 itself can be admitted. So go to bed, 
 old fellow, and I wish you in advance 
 a Merry Christmas." 
 
 " Same to you, sah ; same to you, 
 and a good many of em ! Good-night, 
 sah." 
 
 Alone in the room, Mr. Valentine 
 
 filled the eight little glasses with the 
 
 old Madeira. He then took seven 
 
 cards from his pocket. On every card 
 
 164 
 
A Bachelor s Supper 
 
 was a lady s name, which he touched 
 reverently with his lips before laying 
 beside its proper plate. Then, with a 
 thoughtfulness and care that indicated 
 a familiarity with the preferences of his 
 guests, he transposed all the bunches of 
 flowers. 
 
 The last one to be laid in position 
 was composed entirely of old-fashioned 
 pinks. As he placed it on the table, a 
 sudden idea seemed to strike him, and, 
 taking one of these pinks- from the 
 bunch, he went back into his chamber 
 to the chimney-piece and stood before 
 the miniature of a young girl about 
 eighteen, in a white dress of a fashion 
 long gone by. The brown hair, parted 
 in the middle and drawn down in 
 straight lines across the forehead, cov 
 ered the ears with a prim severity in 
 striking contrast to the plump lips and 
 laughing eyes. At her breast was a 
 little bunch of the same old-fashioned 
 pinks. For Mr. Valentine there were 
 evidently sad associations with this 
 165 
 
A Bachelor s Supper 
 
 cheerful face, as his eyes were moist 
 when he inserted his one little flower 
 in the carving of the frame. 
 
 Returning to the dining-room, he 
 stopped a moment upon the threshold, 
 looking with boyish pleasure upon the 
 dainty supper-table and the blazing fire. 
 He then stepped to his own armchair 
 at the head of the table, bowed his head 
 in salutation to the absent guests, and 
 took his seat. 
 
 The red spots were again in his 
 cheeks. The flush of youth came and 
 went more fitfully than before as he 
 looked along the vacant places, and 
 allowed his fancy to fill the seats with 
 those who, at different epochs, had been 
 so very dear to him. Verily, he seemed 
 again in the presence of the seven 
 beings whose hearts had once been 
 his! 
 
 And they were not idle flirtations he 
 looked back upon, but serious passions ; 
 for Mr. Valentine, although impression 
 able, was a steadfast man, and these 
 
A Bachelor s Supper 
 
 seven loves of his life had been honest 
 and loyal. Moreover, there had always 
 been a reasonable space between. 
 When his heart went out to a new 
 love, it still held firmly to the earlier 
 idols and never weakened in its 
 devotion. 
 
 These memories gave him an ex 
 quisite pleasure, and for twenty years 
 he had taken every care to keep them 
 alive and fresh. They were the sanc 
 tities of a heart that could never grow 
 old. And now, as he sat with the 
 empty chairs about him, he was drifting 
 back into the years of his victorious 
 youth. He seemed again in the pres 
 ence of those whose memories were 
 more precious than life. There, on 
 the right, with the quaint little curls 
 each side of her face, is the one for 
 whom he fought that laughable duel 
 and got a bullet in his ribs; then 
 lost her through a hot little quarrel 
 for which he has cursed himself off 
 and on for more than half a cen- 
 167 
 
A Bachelor s Supper 
 
 tury. But the kind eyes smile pleas 
 antly at him now. 
 
 And beside her is the dear, familiar 
 maiden of the bobtail horse, she who 
 wrote the letters in his secretary drawer. 
 The blood flows quicker through his 
 veins as she, too, sends a loving greet 
 ing. He laughs to see the same old 
 toss of the head he knows so well. 
 
 But that foreign, tempestuous beauty, 
 with the pearls in her black hair, and 
 the heavy eyelids why is she here 
 among these Americans ? Has she 
 also a corner in the old beau s heart ? 
 Of that there is little doubt. As her 
 gaze meets his, he leans forward with 
 an eager smile and his eyes drop to a 
 necklace, where he sees, with a thrill of 
 pleasure, a jewelled locket upon her 
 throat. He knows well what lies 
 within ! 
 
 And la diva! She, too, is here! 
 
 What a different life her face recalls ! 
 
 A life of music, flowers, applause. It 
 
 recalls stolen interviews in those deli- 
 
 168 
 
A Bachelor s Supper 
 
 cious days before she was famous, and 
 before she was given to that short little 
 brute with the very long title. It also 
 recalls that night he sat waiting for her 
 behind one of the flies in the opera at 
 
 Genoa when she, coming off the stage 
 in her regal robes, took his head in 
 both her hands, and kissed him ! 
 
 All the joy and tragedy of fifty years 
 seems crowded in a single moment. 
 He leans back in his chair, his hand- 
 
A Bachelor s Supper 
 
 some face radiant with unspeakable 
 happiness. But the strain is almost 
 too great, and he raises a trembling 
 hand to his heart as if to keep it in its 
 place. 
 
 He suddenly leans forward, however, 
 with a bright welcome in his eyes as 
 another place is occupied. This time 
 by a little figure a girl of ten or 
 thereabouts who lifts the flowers from 
 beside her plate and smiles timidlv over 
 them. His thoughts fly back into a 
 far-away past when he and this maid 
 were all the world to one another. It 
 was his first passion, his boyish love. 
 Does she remember the day he dragged 
 her up the hill upon his sled, and when 
 at the very top he slipped and, falling 
 in her lap, they sped like lightning to 
 the bottom and were shot head fore 
 most into a snow-bank ? Oh, yes ; 
 she remembers it well, and nods her 
 head ! There is a tear upon his check 
 as he thinks of the checkerberries he 
 laid upon a young girl s grave ; and the 
 172 
 
A Bachelor s Supper 
 
 cornelian ring he wore until it fell 
 apart. 
 
 Another radiant creature fills an 
 empty chair and gayly returns his wel 
 come. She tosses him a rose, this girl 
 of the boat and the island, of the moon 
 and the music, and shakes her fan at 
 him, the very fan that is locked up in 
 his bureau drawer ! 
 
 They are all here now except one 
 and yes even she is here ! the 
 original of the miniature, the girl with 
 the old-fashioned pinks. The same 
 smile, the same eyes, and they tell him 
 to-night, as they have done many times 
 before, of a heart that knows no waver 
 ing. He draws a hand across his brow 
 as if the pain and pleasure were too 
 keen for nerves and tissues of seventy 
 years. 
 
 Slowly rising to his feet, he lifts the 
 little glass of Madeira from the table, 
 then looks around with a loving glance 
 that meets, from every face, a loving 
 answer. He tries to speak, and his 
 173 
 
A Bachelor s Supper 
 
 tremulous lips refuse to utter the toast, 
 the message from an overcrowded 
 heart. 
 
 But they all understand. They re 
 spond with a graceful gesture, each 
 with her own little glass, as he puts the 
 wine to his lips. 
 
 At that moment the old timepiece 
 in the corner, with its chimes and bells, 
 begins to sound the hour of twelve ; 
 and, as he smiles upon the radiant 
 forms about him, the wine, with a tu 
 multuous beating, throbs hotly through 
 his veins and surges to his brain, keep 
 ing time with the ringing clock. Then 
 the sound grows fainter and fainter, 
 as if dying away, and seems, with 
 a drowsy rhythm, to lift him gently 
 with it. 
 
 When Clem entered the next morn 
 ing, two narrow bars of sunshine had 
 crept between the curtains, faintly light 
 ing the silent room. The candles had 
 burnt out in their sockets, and his 
 
A Bachelor s Supper 
 
 master, his chin upon his breast, had 
 sunk back into his final sleep. 
 
 The little wine-glasses were partially 
 emptied, and the bunches of flowers were 
 gone. 
 
 13 177 
 
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