ALVMNVS BOOK FVND 5732, FRED M. DKVVITT BOOKJSKIJLKR THE HAUNTED PHOTOGRAPH The Haunted Photograph Whence and Whither A Case in Diplomacy The Afterglow BY BUTH McENEEY STUAET ILLUSTRATED BY WM. L. JACOBS, PETER NEWELL, ETHEL PENNEWILL BROWN AND WILSON C. DEXTER NEW YORK THE CENTUEY CO. 1911 Copyright, 1911, by THE CENTURY Co. Copyright, 1909. 1910. by Harper * Brother! Copyright, 1909. by The Pemrnon Publishing Co. Copyright. 1910, by The Sunny South Pub. C. Published, October 1911 CONTENTS PAGE I. THE HAUNTED PHOTOGBAPH . . 3 II. WHENCE AND WHITHER ... 35 III. A CASE IN DIPLOMACY ... 93 IV. THE AFTERGLOW . . 133 LIST OF ILLUSTRATIONS Do I look strange, I wonder? . Frontispiece FACING PAGE She fanned herself with the asbestos mat . 10 The cat glaring at the picture .... 12 She succumbed, green as the Ganges, into her own egg-basket 18 Sally Ann Salisbury 38 How much 11 you pay me for her, Charley?" 76 "Seem like a pity to part em" . . . 88 "No, sir! Notyit! Not on paper!" . . 96 "Git git git out de marry in -book, please, sir" 128 "Why, by all that is sacred, did I encourage this quiet man! .... 158 THE HAUNTED PHOTOGRAPH THE HAUNTED PHOTOGEAPH TO the ordinary observer it was just a common photograph of a cheap sum mer hotel. It hung, sumptuously framed in plush, over the widow Morris s mantel, the one resplendent note in an otherwise modest home, in a characteristic Queen Anne village. One had only to see the rapt face of its owner as she sat in her weeds before the picture which she tearfully pronounced "a strikin likeness," to sympathize with the townsfolk who looked askance at the bereaved woman, even while they bore with her delusion, feeling sure that her sudden sorrow had set her mind agog. When she had received the picture through the mail, some months before the fire which consumed the hotel a fire 3 .-: ;;TIIE HAUNTED PHOTOGRAPH through which she had not passed but out of which she had come a widow she proudly handed it around among the friends waiting with her at the post office, replying to their questions as they admired it: 1 Oh, yes ! that s where he works if you can call it work. He s the head steward in it. All that row o winders where you see the awnin s down, they re his an them that ain t down, they re his, too that is to say it s his jurusdiction. "You see, he s got the whiphand over the cook an the sto e-room, an that key don t go out o his belt unless he knows who s gettin what an he s firm. Mor ris always was. He s like the iron law of the Ephesians." "Whafkeyt" It was an old lady who held the picture at arm s length the more closely to scan it, who asked the question. She asked it, partly to know, as neither man nor key ap- 4 THE HAUNTED PHOTOGEAPH peared in the photograph, and partly to parry the "historic allusion" a disturb ing sort of fire for which Mrs. Morris was rather noted and which made some of her most loyal townsfolk a bit shy of her. "Oh, I ain t referrin to the picture," she hastened to explain; "I mean the keys thet he always carries in his belt. The reg lar joke there is to call him St. Peter, 7 an 7 he takes it in good part, for, he de clares, if there is such a thing as a simili tude to the kingdom o Heaven in a hotel, why it s in the providential supply depart ment which in a manner hangs to his belt. He always humors a joke specially on himself. 9 No one will ever know through what painful periods of unrequited longing the widow Morris had sought solace in this, her only cherished "relic," after the "half hour of sky-works" which had made her, in her own vernacular, "a lonely, confla grated widow with a heart full of ashes," 5 THE HAUNTED PHOTOGRAPH before the glad moment when it was given her to discern in it an unsuspected and novel value. First had come as a faint gleam of comfort, the reflection that al though her dear lost one was not in evi dence in the picture, he had really been inside the building when the photograph was taken, and so, of course, he must be in there yet! At first she experienced a slight disap pointment that her man was not visible, at door or window. But it was only a passing regret. It was really better to feel him surely and broadly within at large in the great house, free to pass at will from one room to another. To have had him fixed no matter how effectively would have been a limitation. As it was, she pressed the picture to her bosom as she wondered if perchance, he would not some day come out of his hiding to meet her. It was a muffled pleasure and tremu lously entertained, at first, but the very 6 THE HAUNTED PHOTOGBAPH whimsicality of it was an appeal to her sensitized imagination and so, when, finally, the thing did really happen, it is small wonder that it came somewhat as a shock. It appears that, one day, feeling par ticularly lonely and forlorn, and having no other comfort, she was pressing her tear- stained face against the row of window- shutters in the room without awnings, this being her nearest approach to the alleged occupant s bosom, when she was suddenly startled by a peculiar swishing sound, as of wind-blown rain, whereupon she lifted her face to perceive that it was indeed raining and then, glancing back at the pho tograph, she distinctly saw her husband rushing from one window to another, draw ing down the sashes on the side of the house that would have been exposed to the real shower whose music was in her ears. This was a great discovery, and, natu rally enough, it set her weeping for, she sobbed, "it made her feel, for a minute, 7 THE HAUNTED PHOTOGEAPH that she had lost her widowhood and that, after the shower, he d be coming home." It might well make any one cry to sud denly lose the pivot upon which his emo tions are swung. At any rate, Mrs. Morris cried. She said that she cried all night, first because it seemed so spooky to see him whose remains she had so recently buried on faith, waiving recognition in the debris, dashing about now in so matter of fact a way. And then, she wept because, after all, he did not come. This was the formal beginning of her sense of personal companionship in the pic ture. Companionship? Yes, of delight in it, and I use the word with malice pre pense, for there is even delight in tears in some situations in life. Especially is this true of one whose emotions are her only guides, as seems to have been the case with the widow Morris. After seeing him draw the window sashes 8 THE HAUNTED PHOTOGEAPH and lie had drawn them down, ignoring her presence she sat for hours, waiting for the rain to stop, but it seemed to have set in for a long spell, for when she finally fell asleep, "from sheer disappointment, long towards morning/ 7 it was still rain ing, and when she awoke, the sun shone and all the windows in the picture were up again. This was a misleading experience, how ever, for she soon discovered that she could not count upon any line of conduct by the man in the hotel as the fact that it had one time rained in the photograph at the same time that it rained outside was but a coin cidence and she was soon surprised to per ceive all quiet along the hotel piazza, not even an awning flapping, while the earth, on her plane, was torn by storms. On one memorable occasion when her husband had appeared, flapping the win dow-panes from within with a towel, she had thought for one brief moment that he 9 THE HAUNTED PHOTOGEAPH was beckoning to her and that she might have to go to him, and she was beginning to experience terror with shortness of breath and other premonitions of sudden passing when she discovered that he was merely killing flies and she flurriedly fanned herself with the asbestos mat which she had seized from the stove beside her and staggered out to a seat under the mul berries, as she stammered in broken ac cents : "I do de-clare, Morris 11 be the death of me, yet. He s most as much care to me dead as he was alive. ... I made sure made sure he d come after me ! And then, challenging her own fidelity, she hastened to add, "Not that I hadn t rather go to him than to take any trip in the world, but but I never did fancy that hotel, and since I Ve got used to seein him there so constant, I feel sure that s where we ? d put up. My belief is, anyway, that if there s hereafters for some things, 10 .. She fanned herself with the asbestos mat THE HAUNTED PHOTOGEAPH there s hereafters for all. From what I can gather, I reckon I m a kind of a cross between a Sweden-borgeian and a Gates- ajar that, of course, engrafted on to a Methodist. Now, that hotel, when it was consumed by fire, which to it was the same as mortal death, why, it either ascended into Heaven, in smoke, or it fell, in ashes to the other place. If it died worthy, like as not it s undergoin repairs now for a mansion/ jasper cupolas, an 7 but, of course, such as that could be run up in a twinklin . 1 1 Still, from what I Ve heard, it s more likely gone down to its deserts. It would seem hard for a hotel with so many awned- off corridors an palmed embrasures with teet-a-teet sofas to live along without sin." She stood on her step-ladder, wiping the face of the picture as she spoke, and as she began to back down, she discovered the cat under her elbow, glaring at the picture. "Yes, Kitty! Spit away!" she ex- 11 THE HAUNTED PHOTOGRAPH claimed. "Like as not you see even more than I do!" And, as she slipped the ladder back into the closet, she remarked this to herself, strictly : "If it hadn t V been for poor Puss, I d a had a heap more pleasure out o this picture than what I have had or will be likely to have again. The way she s taken on, I ve almost come to hate it ! " A serpent had entered her poor little Eden even the green-eyed monster con strictor who, if given full swing, would not spare a bone of her meager comfort. A neighbor who chanced to come in at the time, unobserved, overheard the last remark and Mrs. Morris, seeing that she was there, continued in an unchanged tone, while she gave her a chair, "Of course, Mis Withers, you know or can easy guess who I refer to. I mean that combly-f eatured wench thet kep the books an answered the telephone at the hotel 12 The cat glaring at the picture THE HAUNTED PHOTOGRAPH when she found the time from her med- dlin . Somehow, I never thought about her bein burned in with Morris till Puss give her away. Puss never did like the girl when she was alive an the first time I see her scratch an spit at the pic ture, just the way she used to do whenever she come in sight, why it just struck me like a clap o thunder out of a clear sky that Puss knew who she was a-spittin at an I switched around sudden an glanced up sudden an , "Well, what I seen, I seen! There was that beautied-up type-writer settin in the window-sill o Morris s butler s pantry an if she didn t wink at me malicious, then I don t know malice when I see it. An she used her fingers against her nose, too, most defiant an impolite. So I says to Puss, I says, Puss, I says, * there s gain s on in that hotel, sure as fate. An nabel Bender has got the better o me, for once! An tell the truth, it did spoil the 13 THE HAUNTED PHOTOGKAPH photograph for me, for a while, for, of course, after that, if I did n t see him some- wheres on the watch for his faithful spouse, I d say to myself, He s inside there with that pink-featured hussy I 9 "You know a man s a man, Mis With ers specially Morris an with his lawful wife cut off an indefinitely divorced by a longevitied family an another burned in with him well, his faithfulness is put to a trial by fire, as you might say. So, as I say, it spoiled the picture for me, for a while. "An , to make matters worse, it wasn t any time before I recollected that Camp- bellite preacher that was burned in with em, an with that, my imagination run riot, an I d think to. myself, If they re inclined, they cert n y have things handy! Then I d ketch myself an say, Where s your faith in Scripture, Mary Marthy Mat thews, named after two Bible women an Iborn daughter to an apostle? What s the 14 THE HAUNTED PHOTOGRAPH useT I d say, an* so, first an last, I d get a sort o alpha an omega comfort out o the passage about no givin in marriage. Still, there d be times, pray as I would, when them three would loom up, him an her an the Campbellite preacher. I know his license to marry would run out in time, but for eternity, of course we don t know. Seem like everything would last forever an then again, if I ve got a widow s freedom, Morris must be classed as a widower, if he s anything. "Then I d get some relief in thinkin about his disposition. Good as he was, Morris was fickle-tasted, not in the long run but day in an day out, an even if he d be taken up with her, he d get a dis taste the minute he reelized she d be there interminable. That s Morris. Why, didn t he used to get nervous just seein me around, an me his own selected 1 An didn t I use to make some excuse to send him over to Mame Maddern s ma s 15 THE HAUNTED PHOTOGRAPH ma s so s he d be harmlessly diverted ? She was full o talk, but she was ninety- odd an asthmatic, an the jokes she d crack would all have to come through that false set. I recollect he used to joke about her falsetto laugh but he d come home from them visits an call me his child wife. I ve had my happy moments ! i t You know a man 11 get tired of himself, even, if he s condemned to it too continual, and think of that blondinetted type-writer for a steady diet to a man like Morris I Imagine her when her hair-dye started to give out green streaks in that pompa dour! So, knowin my man, I d take courage an I d think, Seein me cut off, he 11 soon be wantin me more than ever an so he does. It s got so now that glance up at that hotel any time I will, I can generally find him on the lookout, an many s the time I ve stole in an put on his favoryte apron o mine with blue bows on it, when we d be alone an nobody to re- 16 THE HAUNTED PHOTOGRAPH mark about me breakin my mournin . Dear me, how full o buoyancy he was a regular boy at thirty-five, when he passed away ! Was it any wonder that her friends ex changed glances while Mrs. Morris enter tained them in this way? Still, as time passed and she not only brightened in the light of her delusion but proceeded to meet the changed conditions of her life by open ing a small shop in her home, and when she exhibited a wholesome sense of profit and loss, her neighbors were quite ready to ac cept her on terms of mental responsibility. With occupation and a modest success, emotional disturbance was surely giving place to an even calm when, one day, some thing happened. Mrs. Morris sat behind her counter, sort ing notions, puss asleep beside her, when she heard the swish of thin silk, with a breath of familiar perfume and, looking up, whom did she see but the blonde lady THE HAUNTED PHOTOGEAPH of her troubled dreams, striding bodily up to the counter, smiling as she swished. At the sight, the good woman first rose to her feet and then as suddenly dropped flopped breathless and white back ward and had to be revived, so that for the space of some minutes, things hap pened, very fast that is, if we may believe the flurried testimony of the blonde who, in going over it, two hours later, had more than once to stop for breath. * * Well, say ! she panted, Did you ever ! Such a turn as took her! I hadn t no more n stepped in the door when she suc cumbed, green as the Ganges, into her own egg-basket an it full! An she was on the eve o floppin back into the prunin scizzor, points up, when I scrambled over the counter, breakin my straight front in two, which she s welcome to, poor thing! Then I loaned her my smellin salts which she held her breath against until it got to be a case of smell or die, an* she smelt! 18 s THE HAUNTED PHOTOGKAPH Then it was a case of temporary spasms for a minute, the salts spillin out over her face, but when the accident evaporated, an she had partially come to, an opened her eyes, rational, I thought to myself, * Maybe she don t know she s keeled an would be humiliated if she did, so I acted callous an I says, off-hand, like, I says, pushin her apron around behind her over its vice versa, so s to cover up the eggs which I thought had better be broke to her gently, I says, *I just called in, Mis Mor ris, to borry your reci-pe for angel cake or maybe get you to bake one for us (I knew she baked on orders ) . An with that, what does she do but go over again, limp as wet starch, down an through every egg in that basket, solid an fluid! "Well, by this time, a man who had seen her at her first worst an run for a doctor, he come in with three an whilst they were bowin to each other an backin , I giv er her stimulus an d rectly she turned upon 19 THE HAUNTED PHOTOGKAPH me one rememberable gaze an she says, t Doctors/ says she, i would you think they d have the gall to try to get me to cook for em? They Ve ordered angel " An with that, over she toppled again, no pulse nor nothin same as the dead!" While the blonde talked, she busied her self with her loosely-falling locks which she tried vainly to entrap. "An yet, you say she ain t classed as crazy? I d say it of her, sure! An so old Morris is dead burned in that old ho tel, well, well ! Poor old fellow ! Dear old place! What times I Ve had!" She spoke through a mouthful of gilt hairpins and her voice was as an eolian harp. "An he burned in it an she s a widow, yet ! Yes, I did hear there d been a fire, but you never can tell. I thought the chimney might a burned out an at the time I was in the thick of bein engaged to the night clerk at the Singin -needles 20 THE HAUNTED PHOTOGEAPH hotel at Pineville an there s no reg ular mail there I thought the story might be exaggerated. Oh, no, I didn t marry the night clerk. I m a bride now, mar ried to the head steward, same rank as poor old Morris an we re just as happy ! I used to pleg Morris about her hair, but I d have to let up on that now. Mine s as red again as hers. No, not my hair mine s hair. It s as red as a flannen drawer, every bit an grain! "But, say she added presently, "when she gets better, just tell her never mind about that reci-pe. I copied it out of her reci-pe book whilst she was under the weather, an dropped a dime in her cash drawer. I recollect how old Morris used to look forward to her angel cakes week-ends he d be goin home, an you know there * ; s no thin like havin ammuni tion, in marriage, even if you never need it. Mine s in that frame of mind now that transforms my ginger-bread into 21 THE HAUNTED PHOTOGRAPH angel cake but the time may come when I 11 have to beat my eggs to a fluff so s not to have it taste like ginger-bread to him. "Oh, no, he s not with me, this trip. I just run down for a lark to show my folks my ring an things an let em see it s really so. He give me considerable jew elry. His First s taste run that way, an they ain t no children. "Yes, this amethyst is the weddin -ring. I selected that on account of him bein a widower, an the year not bein up. That s why he stayed home, this trip. He didn t like to be seen traversin the same old haunts with Another till it was up. I would n t wait because, tell the truth, I was afraid. "He ain t like a married man with me about money yet, an it s liable to seize him any day. He might say that he couldn t afford the trip, or that we couldn t, which would amount to the same 22 THE HAUNTED PHOTOGEAPH thing. I rather liked him bein a little ticklish about goin around with me for a while. It s one thing to do a thing an* another to be brazen about it "But if she don t get better " the re version was to the widow Morris "if she don t get her mind, poor thing, there s a fine insane asylum just out of Pineville, an I d like the best in the world to look out for her, if they was to send her there. It would make an excuse for me to go in. They say they have great old times there. Some days they let the in mates do most any old thing that s harm less. They even give em unpoisonous paints an let em paint each other up. One man, they say, insisted he was a bar ber-pole an ringed himself around accord ing , an then another chased him around for a stick of peppermint-candy. Think of all that inside a close fence, an a town so dull an news-hungry "Yes, they say Thursdays is paint days, 23 THE HAUNTED PHOTOGEAPH an , of course, Fridays, they are scrub days. They pass around turpentine an hide the matches. "But, of course, Mis Morris may get the better of it. T ain every woman that can stand widowin , an sometimes them that has got the least out of marriage will seem the most deprived to lose it so they say. The blonde was a person of words. When Mrs. Morris had fully revived and after a restoring "night s sleep" had got her bearings, and when she realized that her supposed rival had actually shown up in the flesh, she visibly braced up. Her neighbors understood that it must have been a shock "to be suddenly confronted with any souvenir of the hotel fire" so one had expressed it and the incident soon passed out of the village mind. It was not long after this incident that the widow confided to a friend that she 24 THE HAUNTED PHOTOGRAPH was coming to depend upon Morris for ad vice in her business. Standing as he does, in that hotel door between two worlds, as you might say why he sees both ways, and oftentimes he 11 detect an event on the way to hap pening, an if it don t move too fast, why I can hustle an get the better of things. " It was as if she had a private wire for ad vance information and she declared her self comforted if not entirely happy. Indeed, a certain ineffable light, such as we sometimes see in the eyes of those newly in love, came to shine from the face of the widow who did not hesitate to affirm, look ing into space as she said it, "Takin all things into consideration, I can truly say that I have never been so truly and ideely married as since my wid owhood." And she smiled as she added, "Marriage, the earthly way, is vicissi- tudinous, for everybody knows that any thing is liable to happen to a man at large. " 25 THE HAUNTED PHOTOGEAPH There had been a time when she lamented that her picture was not "life sized " as it would have seemed so much more natural, but she immediately reflected that that ho tel would never have gotten into her little house, and that, after all, the main thing was having her man under her own roof. As the months passed, Mrs. Morris, al beit she seemed serene and of peaceful mind, grew very white and still. Fire is white in its ultimate intensity. The top, spinning its fastest, is said to " sleep " and the dancing dervish is "still." So, misleading signs sometimes mark the dan ger-line. "Under-eating and over-thinking" was what the doctor said while he felt her translucent wrist and prescribed nails in her drinking-water. If he secretly knew that kind nature was gently letting down the bars so that a waiting spirit might easily pass well, he was a doctor, not a 26 THE HAUNTED PHOTOGRAPH minister. His business was with the body, and he ordered repairs. She was only thirty-seven and "well" when she passed painlessly out of life. It seemed to be simply a case of going. There were several friends at her bed side the night she went and to them she turned, feeling the time come: "I just want to give out that the first thing I intend to do when I m relieved is to call by there for Morris" She lifted her weary eyes to the picture as she spoke. for Morris and I want it understood that it 11 be a vacant house from the min ute I depart. So, if there s any other woman that s calculatin to have any car- ryin s-on from them windows why, she 11 be disappointed she or they. The one obnoxious person I thought was in it wasn t. My imagination was tempted of Satan an I was mislead. So it must be sold for just what it is just a photogra pher s photograph. If it s a picture with 27 THE HAUNTED PHOTOGBAPH a past, why everybody knows what that past is and will respect it. I have tried to conquer myself enough to bequeath it to the young lady I suspicioned, but human nature is frail an I can t quite do it, al though, doubtless, she would like it as a souvenir. Maybe she d find it a little too souvenirish to suit my wifely taste, and yet if a person is going to die "I suppose I might legate it to her partly to recompense her for her discre tion in leaving that hotel when she did an partly for undue suspicion i i There s a few debts to be paid > but there s eggs an things that 11 pay them, an there s no need to have the hen settin in the window showcase any longer. It was a good advertisement, but I ve often thought it might be embarrassin to her." She was growing weaker, but she roused herself to amend, "Better raffle that picture for a dollar a chance an let the proceeds go to my 28 THE HAUNTED PHOTOGRAPH funeral an I want to be buried in the hotel-fire general grave, commingled with him an what s left over after the debts are paid, I bequeath to her to make amends an if she don t care to come for it, let every widow in town draw for it. But she 11 come. Most any woman 11 take any trip, if it s paid for. But look!" She raised her eyes excitedly toward the mantel, "Look! What s that he s wav- in ? It looks Oh, yes, it is it s our wings two pairs mine a little smaller. I s pose it 11 be the same old story I 11 never be able to keep up to keep up with him an I ve been so hap "Yes, Morris I m comin " And she was gone into a peaceful sleep from which she easily passed just before dawn. When all was well over, those who had sat with her to the end rose with one accord and went to the mantel where one even 29 THE HAUNTED PHOTOGRAPH lighted an extra candle that they might more clearly scan the mysterious picture. Finally, one said: "You may think I m queer, but it does look different to me, already. " "So it does," said another, taking the candle. "Like a house for rent. I de clare, it gives me the cold shivers. "I 11 pay my dollar gladly, and take a chance for it," whispered a third, "but I would n t let such a thing as that enter my happy home " "Neither would I!" "Nor me, neither. I Ve had trouble enough. My first husband s oil-painted portrait has brought me discord enough an it was a straight likeness. I don t want any more pictures to put in the hen house." So the feeling ran among the mothers and wives. "Well," said she who was blowing out the candle, "I 11 draw for it an take it, 30 THE HAUNTED PHOTOGKAPH if I win it, an consider it a sort of inher itance which it is, in a way, to whoever gets it. I never inherited anything but indiges tion " The last speaker was a maiden lady and so was she who answered her chuckling : "That s what I say! Anything for a change. There d be some excitement in a picture where a man was liable to show up. It s more than I ve got now. I 11 risk my happiness with a chance. I m that reckless. "I do declare, it s just scandalous the way we re laughin , an the poor soul hardly out o hearin . She was a kind soul, Mis Morris was, an she made her self happy with a mighty slim chance "Yes, she did," said another, forcibly pulling down the corners of her mouth, " on a mighty slim chance and I only wish there d been a better man waitin for her in that hotel." 31 WHENCE AND WHITHER WHENCE AND WHITHEE SALLY ANN SALISBURY was a long name for a servant in slave days a long name for familiar use but it was one frequently called across the back yard over the wood piles at Belle Haven plantation. It generally took about three calls to elicit response when there would slowly emerge from the wash-shed a slim yellow woman who, languidly shading her eyes with one hand, the other far back upon her hip, would answer: "Who datr 1 She would answer thus even when, as was rarely the case, the voice was that of her young mistress, and then she would condescendingly take an order or even agree to hurry a piece of work, although in this case she would generally app end a 35 WHENCE AND WHITHER drawling, "Yas m," and even a reluctant "d rec ly," as she turned away. This last, by a strange inversion of mean ing evolved from the dilatory habits of the time and place, was understood to mean " after a while," anything but the "di rectly" of the dictionaries. Still, it held a tacit promise to hurry things a little and in a few moments, when she had made several deliberate turns about the shed or perhaps stopped to gather and eat a handful of figs from the tree at her doorstep or to conclude a con versation with an idler over the back fence, she would saunter up to the House, head in air, and generally with arms and shoulders fairly bewinged with fluted finery done to the queen s taste. It was hard to find fault with one thus labeled with delightful evidences of her skill and, after all, the main use of a wash erwoman is that she shall wash well. Sally Ann, more familiarly known as 36 WHENCE AND WHITHER Sassie Salisbury the "Sas" having been playfully evolved from her initials by one of the young masters on the place was conceded to be the "sassiest gal along the river, " long before she married Salisbury and became unbearable, in consequence. She was sassiest, as well as the cleverest the most unreliable. Mercurial to her fin ger-tips and gifted at whatever she put them to perform, she was at once an asset of utility and of trial. As Sally Ann Smith, she had been an element of discord among the negroes for several years during which she had tentatively borne the names of one or two of her most ardent suitors for short periods when she surprised everybody by marrying Steven Salisbury, a "free man of color, " twice her age and well to do. It was said that she first hoo dooed him and then married him with a broomstick, but the last part of this was untrue, as the writer has reason to know. All the wives of the place hated her, not 37 WHENCE AND WHITHER only as an abiding menace to their domes tic happiness but because of her lawless tongue, which was as nimble as her morals or her dancing feet or weightless fingers. If she could "do up" a bit of French lin gerie for her young mistress do it so ex quisitely that that fastidious young lady was pleased to declare it "better than new, so could she do over a piece of plan tation gossip into a confection of scandal better than true, better, that is, by way of much adorning, ruffled, fluted and gar nished to a turn by her ever nimble tongue. And, by the way, the laundering of the finery of her young mistress had always been Sassie s favorite work and for two reasons. First yes, it must come first Miss Geraldine was just exactly Sassie s size, her height, her heft and measure ments, and this is the second reason and she gave it with a wink: The two had "percizely de same taste in dress!" It had been convenient to be custodian of so 38 Sally Ann Salisbury WHENCE AND WHITHER much available finery. And Sassie really took a sort of servile pride in the radiant beauty of the mistress, who led her set so cially. To an appreciable extent she felt her to be the product of her own skill. And then, she was her model, her fash ion-plate. She had only to look at Miss Geraldine to know, not only what to wear but how to wear it how to " carry it off !" Sassie would twirl through the figures of the plantation dances in her mistress s em pire gowns, holding her slim body just as the fairer belle had done, and she would lift her little head, tilted for coquetry, over the spring of a medici collar " just for all the world like Miss Geraldine and gown or collar would go home fairly bristling with the counterfeit newness available only, by adept fingers. Being as she was more of siren than saint, is it any wonder that the good wives and sweethearts hated her and for shame ful reasons. 39 .WHENCE AND WHITHER Everybody felt sorry when Steve mar ried her sorry for him. He was an in dustrious and amiable fellow who for years had plied his trade as plantation barber with never an indication that the main im plement of his trade was available for war fare a fine local test of character. And he was a clever negro, too, as was evinced by the sign which swung to his barber-pole and which read: HAIE STEATENED. Indeed, this had come to indicate a most profitable branch of his business and, al though the locks from which he more or less successfully removed the kinks had a stubborn, atavistic way of reverting to the old habit after a time, he certainly accom plished wonders in immediate results and there was but one way to disprove his claim that "continuous treatment would make any hair as straight as an Indian s " ; 40 WHENCE AND WHITHER and this way cost money, money which is of all things most scarce in plantation com munities. And Steve was not a charlatan. He had really made a clever machine of his own device which he had snappily named i t The Daisy Stretcher/ a simple contrivance which could lay hold of sections of hair at a grasp and while its manipulator put his full force upon it, the trick was done with out pain or further inconvenience than was unavoidable with one s head in a vise. Steve owned his own shack and a mule and wagon, and a runabout for Sunday service, and his note for as much as fifty dollars was known to be negotiable even with the white storekeepers along the river. The very fact that he could himself write and sign a promissory note set him upon a pinnacle so that it is easily seen that as a matrimonial parti, he stood high, even with the slight prejudice which his familiar name implied t Six Toe Steve." The 41 WHENCE AND WHITHER fact of the trifling deformity therein indi cated had as a youth set him somewhat apart and made him taciturn. We all know how any departure from the normal is apt to discount the attraction of sex. So does nature preserve her in tegrity. And yet, when we reflect to how slight a degree human happiness is a mat ter of fingers and toes, it does seem strange that one extra member so trivial as a little toe should have prejudiced the young feminine mind against the whole man, Steve Salisbury, in toto and yet, so it was, or had been in his callow, sensitive days when he had tried to "circulate in so ciety. " Even yet, although a successful business man and of middle age, he was regarded as a little queer and detached almost abnor mal in his imperviousness to the wiles of womankind, when he suddenly became en tangled in the meshes of Sally Ann s net; and this figure is selected with malice pre- 42 WHENCE AND WHITHER pense for its literal as well as figurative significance. We all know the type of mulattress with a brush of foxy hair, kinked to the limit and with each strand seemingly so repellent to its neighbor that the result is like an electrified mop and not always by any means unhandsome. Such was Sally Ann, the siren of Silver Springs Baptist community she whose head of foxy fluff she confined in a crimson net, carrying it thus up the Mississippi levee to the "Studio Parlors" just off the barber-shop of Steven Salisbury. Demurely taking her seat before the Daisy Stretcher, she deftly slipped off the net, gave her head a single quick shake such as a King Charles spaniel gives his locks on occasion and there she was. Steve was a stolid fellow, or had been hitherto, and he would not have known the meaning of so high-sounding a word as capillary attraction. Still, he is not the 43 WHENCE AND WHITHER first man who has felt things which he could not name. When he had looked at the unusual tan gle of color before him, run his profes sional fingers through it and drawn it out to its full seven inches of length and let it snap back into bewildering confusion he hesitated. Then, he worked at the Daisy Stretcher a while, independently, as a fiddler who tunes up before he begins to play. And then presently having killed as much time as he dared he drawled, with some confusion : "Seem like a pity Miss Sal Ann pity to disturb it whilst de net " he was hold ing the net in his fingers "whilst de net becomes it so fine an yo head ain t like mos ladies heads. You mought subjue deze locks down, for a time, but but Oh, well! Why follow them further? He was caught, and that is all there is of it. Sally Ann had actually gone to him 44 WHENCE AND WHITHER with five dollars the price of an entire course of treatment in cash in her hand kerchief and she had taken pains to let him see the V in its crinkled green corner but she took it home, intact. And Steve had been considered mercenary, too, but perhaps he was first of all an artist, or, more likely, he was just a normal man and had been biding his fate. Of course, Sally Ann knew all about the little extra toes, but she was not one to bother herself about trifles. Steve owned the best negro cabin along the river now, and his free-born parents before him had been property-holders and respectable. Somehow, no one had foreseen their marriage, even after they had been for some time "running together." Even Steve himself, who had undoubtedly lost his bearings in the first whirlpool of the romance, had not thought of it, either. Whether the woman did or not, it would be hard to say. Precedent was against it and 45 WHENCE AND WHITHER it would not have been easy for her to take any particular stand in the matter things having been as they had been. A year and more passed and still the two were constantly together as constantly as they could well be, living thus apart and both having work to do. Sassie was very capricious and of a pre carious popularity, and, although Steve was all devotion, he could not fully know how things were, precisely, and it was only when old Granny Griggs took the trouble to carry her heart disease, panting all the way from Sassie s bedside, a distance of half a muddy mile, to Steve s Studio Par lors to announce the birth of "a bouncin six-toe boy!" that he was suddenly suf fused with paternal certitude and, drop ping the Daisy Stretcher upon the floor in his tremulous joy, he hitched up his gig and drove three miles for the minister of Silver Springs chapel, carried him over to 46 WHENCE AND WHITHER Sassie s cabin and "made things right for the boy and his mammy. " Most of life s values are relative, after all. So trivial and inconsequent a baga telle as a little toe relatively considered, may become a power compellant, irresisti ble, as in this case, changing the whole face of life for a number of people. In due time, which is to say in several weeks, the bride-mother and child were proudly on parade at all church and social functions, and generally accompanied by the beaming pater. For once in her life, Sassie was sorry she was a Baptist, as it would have been so fitting to have the child christened at the wedding supper, when he was four weeks old, and at which she ap peared in orange flowers and a veil. Why not, and she for the first time a bride? Steve would have taken mother and babe home with him, of course, had they been free. As it was, he stayed with them as 47 WHENCE AND WHITHER much as lie could and spent freely of his hoard for their adornment, this being the direction of his wife s ambition and all things were happy and prosperous. When Sassie returned to her laundry du ties, the Junior lay in affluent upholstery in a wicker perambulator within the honey suckle shade and the song of the tubs which rose above the droning of the bees was good to hear, harmonizing as it did with all the small noises of contentment in the vines. The washboard s rubbing marked the measure and when there was a lull, as when the washer changed tubs, an infantile coo ing would come from the wheeled cradle- cooing which developed into strenuous crowing with the passage of time, when the mother would go over and put the crow- er s thumb in his mouth, or one of his toes, "to stop the racket," and he would try to swallow all six toes at once and spit them out with salivary bubbles of baby glee, to the infinite joy of his parents, more espe- 48 WHENCE AND WHITHER cially of his father when he was there. He was especially weak about the little feet, so palpably his bequest. This is a case where circumstantial evidence, so often fallacious, would have held in almost any court. Still, who knows anything final about anything? Six toes upon each of the feet of the child of a friend likewise endowed might be a coincidence. In cer tain circumstances, the occurrence could not be otherwise. But we must believe in something or else go where the unbeliev ers go. There was considerable chaffing on the plantation on the subject of Six Toe Steve s six toe boy, some declaring that Sassie was always lucky! If with all its primitive crudeness, Steve s was a case of true love and it seems to have been it proved no exception to the rule against smooth running in its course. With so much that was propi tious, clouds soon began to gather in his 49 WHENCE AND WHITHER matrimonial sky. For one thing, Sassie was jealous. The Daisy Stretcher natu rally brought its manipulator a steady cli entele of women women of the beauty- seeking type, a dangerous variety. Very few of the men bothered about their heads. Some there were, of course, youths mostly, who denied themselves and their sweet hearts ginger-pop and cove oysters to essay the Cherokee act, but realizing no especial access of popularity with the very girls for whom the stretcher was doing its best, they generally soon lapsed into their luxuries and their kinks. But the women were " fairly going crazy over it, even some of the coal-black damsels paying their last cents for the three-inch fringes which by dint of crucial effort were made to connect with the long braids of jute which disfigured their heads. Sassie " did n t mind Steve s straighten ing their wool for em, ef they craved to have it straight/ 7 she said, with a toss of 50 WHENCE AND WHITHER her own mop, but she failed to see the "justice of Steve s bein away all day, en- joyin hisself wid a lot o> fool women whilst she wore her life away, nussin his great stroppin child!" And then, she would conclude : "I nuver was no hearth-cat, nohow!" a declaration which no one could dispute, although it did not seem to be a reason why she should jostle poor little Junior nearly out of his perambulator, until he desperately threw all his vocal powers into the family squall. This was not so very serious in itself as it was ominous of breakers ahead in the matrimonial sea. And, of course, this was but one phase of her discontent, for if Sas- sie had a single invariable quality, it was variability variability in all its various phases. Steve liked to refer to his increased re sponsibilities of married life, appropri ating the term for its pleasing sound, but 51 WHENCE AND WHITHER as a fact, matrimony had added to his nec essary expenses not at all, the support of his family being the business of their owners. Still, he assumed responsibilities and he had paternal plans for his boy so that it was well for him to make more money and thus, in the course of the year, he opened a "branch station" where he set up an other barber-shop and stretcher, dividing his time equally between the two. As the branch was more than ten miles away and the roads were heavy in the winter season, Sassie was left alone a good deal, danger ously free with discontent already ferment ing within her, and so it was not long be fore she lapsed into a peevish slattern and then, by natural rebound, she sought solace in such passing sympathy as her cabin at the turn of the road afforded. As is often the case in similar circum stances in life, Steve had no inkling of the real situation. A single-minded fellow and very busy, it never occurred to him to 52 WHENCE AND WHITHER suspect complications at home. The boy waxed in vigor and filial appeal as he de veloped the infantile accomplishments in natural sequence and if his mother was sometimes a bit difficult in temper, the father rather liked the zest of it. It brought a realization of the blissful fact that he was really a married man and hav ing to put up with a woman s ways. What does any man care about atmospheric dis turbances while he looks into the clear eyes of the miniature of himself who is climb ing over his knees and calling him daddy ! And then, Sassie was really too near his vision for him to get much perspective upon her conduct. He had taken her to himself, as she was, soul and body, poor trusting heart and even if he had seen the trifling neighbor-husbands hanging around her door while he was away, he would have been slow to question their being there. As was natural to one of her inverte brate morality, as she gained in power over 53 WHENCE AND WHITHER her man, so did she lose in worthiness and, more particularly, as she grew more fa miliar with the uses of money its uses and abuses not only did she fall from grace of being, but her work suffered. She no longer cared much whether Miss Geraldine s ruffles were daintily fluted or not or that they were returned to her l on time/ as of yore. The baby and his de mands made excuse sufficient for all short comings and more than once, when she pleaded that she had " walked de flo all night wid Junior, 7 she had in truth done precisely that same with someone else and to the slow cake-walk music of the fiddle. Of course, there was an element of risk in this, but it was slight, and for the reason that redress was so easy, if there was any tattling. Few of the deni zens of the quarters were sufficiently "without sin" themselves to cast stones, fearing no rebound. Once there had been a report at The House of some liberty Sas- 54 WHENCE AND WHITHER sie had taken with the wash with a result so promiscuously disastrous that discretion became the better part of valor and now she might have dared almost anything, without dread of detection. So things went from bad to worse and in the course of a winter there were several fights on the place fights in the reports of which a free use of razors was hinted at in connection with Sassie s name and some of the renegade husbands. And yet, bridging over all things, there was always Steve s devotion, which, in deed, seemed never to fail, and inversely as he gained in popular favor, the woman of his life lost in following until finally her owners were "put to it" to know what to do with her. Her work was no longer a consideration and every otherwise she was a disturber and a menace. And out of this dilemma it was that a plan of relief was evolved. The thing was suggested by none other 55 WHENCE AND WHITHEE than the fair Geraldine, to whom her father, driven desperate by fresh com plaints of the woman, one morning ex claimed : "I 11 be switched if I know what to do with her ! I could n t sell her or give her away ! Nobody d have her ! To which Geraldine answered. t What about Steve ? Why not just turn her over to Steve? He d take her and thank you!" It was a new thought and it struck home. The very simplicity of it was bewildering. But for a second only. Walking up to his daughter, the old Judge held out his hand. "Shake!" he exclaimed, and then mov ing off and regarding her, "Jerry, you Ve got a head on you ! You ought Ve been a boy!" "I don t see why you keep saying that to me, father ! she laughed, "when there s so much masculine gray matter going to 56 WHENCE AND WHITHER waste now. We women conserve what lit tle sense we have, that s " "Yes, yes, dear! So you do. Barely use it lest you wear it out! All but my girl! That s a master stroke, Jerry. I 11 do it right off! No, not right off, either. Christmas is only a month away and I 11 wait. I declare, the thing is great and it gets better every minute! It s better than you know, child! That man, Steve Salisbury, is the best nig ger in the parish. Stood pat for us all through the crevasse last week and brought in lots of the best men and kept em working all night. I told him I d do him a good turn, first time I got a chance and here it is ! "No, Jerry, I m glad you re a girl. If you d been a boy, you d be out throwing away your great intellect carousing and my own master mind wouldn t have helped me out of this hole in a thousand years! I should never have known what 57 WHENCE AND WHITHER to do with that damn excuse me, daugh ter that devilish woman! I 11 send her over to Steve, bag and baggage, on Christ mas Eve, with a deed of gift in her ban danathat s what I 11 do!" And the boy, father?" The old Judge scratched his bald spot. "Yes, yes. Certainly, the boy," he has tened to append. "Of course, it wouldn t be treating him white to keep the boy and give him Sassie. God knows what he sees in her " "That s his look-out, pater, dear. I often wonder what the partners in the ma ture romances about us see or ever saw in each other and sometimes the outcome is surprising ! That bow-legged baby of Sas sie s and Steve s, now! Why, he s a won der ! Not two years old yet and he carries tunes and dances and claps time " "Yes, and he s got his daddy s toes, too ! All natural and straight inheritance. Sas sie was born dancing. Your mind is all 58 WHENCE AND WHITHER right, dear. Not the least too strong or masculine. You 11 do ! Come, kiss your old father!" Well, the upshot of it all was that on Christmas Eve following this quick decis ion, a wagon-load of effervescent joy was moved over from Belle Haven plantation to the house of Steve Salisbury, and "everything on the place was glad," if we are to believe the old women who talked it over in the road. Even several old roos ters who had not crowed all season were seen lifting their combs as they sent forth their best bronchial joy-notes from the gate-posts about which recreant husbands had so recently gathered, and it is a fact that one or two of the neighbor-wives with whom Sassie had not been on speaking terms, did actually take the trouble to call and make their friendly adieux, so that the departure was in all ways most felicitous and when there went down the road into the sunset the contour of a heaped wagon, 59 WHENCE AND WHITHER topped by a ruffled sunbonnet in outline, a peaceful calm settled upon the place where unrest had been. For a time, things went fairly well at the Salisbury cabin. Sassie was pleased as a child with the novelty of everything and, although herself somewhat down at the heel, she was stylish and "fixy" to a de gree and her free taste which ran to orna ment soon transformed Steve s house from a bare man-kept place into an abode of femininity in action, for she changed things around from day to day as caprice suggested and felt herself a great lady among the coast people. And Steve was very happy for a time. The woman s touch and the all-pervading Boy, expressed in childish disorder every where, were like wine on draught to him. He was in a state of semi-intoxication with it all and, for a while, he declared he was afraid to go to sleep lest he should wake to find it a dream. 60 WHENCE AND WHITHER As business had prospered, Steve had become somewhat punctilious about his dress. His shoes were always scrupu lously polished on Saturday nights and his tubbings were as regular as his Sabbaths, but when spring days gave way to summer and Junior was playing about the "Par lor" barefoot, Steve s shoes began to pall on him. He kept thinking what a delight it would be, when customers would look at the child, as they constantly did, and say, "Fine child! Yoze?" he could giggle and answer, "Look at his foots!" And so did really this gleeful experience come to pass before the month of July had gone. It was not a conspicuous thing to do. Etiquette is lax enough in plantation cir cles. It was only exceptional for Steve- inconsistent with his style and dress stand ards. When Sassie had exhausted the novelty of her home, which is to say of her side of the house, the other being given over to 61 WHENCE AND WHITHER business, she became restless. She had cleaned up and polished and scattered and tied a good many ribbon bows on the cheap bric-a-brac which littered the place and there seemed nothing further to do. The regular daily work of her small house was play to her quick fac ulty. These duties she turned off by a sort of magic so that she seemed al ways idle. With time thus heavy on her hands, what more natural than that she should go over and sit with Steve in the Studio Parlor, taking the boy with her when he was not already there. Of course, seeing it done, it was not long before her capable hands itched to work the stretcher, and then came the bright idea of her taking charge of this part of the business on the days when Steve was busy at the Branch. The enterprise quickened her step and started the color in her cheek and she de clared that she was never so happy in her life. 62 WHENCE AND WHITHER It was a festive little creature who pre sided at the Daisy Stretcher in those care free days. She had lost no time after com ing into her husband s home in sampling all of his hair lotions, and every shampoo known to his shelf had more and more lib erated and lightened the strands of her red-brown hair which she wore quite free excepting for the band of gay ribbon which crossed her shapely pate with a great bow at either end, just above her small ears. Her slippers were generally as red as her turkey red gown. She liked red shoes as children like candy. Especially she liked them with the occasional gown of contrast ing colors which would "show them off." Her coming thus into the business was successful from the start that is, of course, in a business way and Steve ex pressed himself much pleased. Not that he ever found any money in the house, but there were new things and new things and new things for Sassy was a great 63 WHENCE AND WHITHER buyer and boasted that she "always knew what she wanted, 7 which was generally what she happened to see. In her interest in her share of the busi ness, she even forgot to be jealous, and the fact is that if Steve s " patients" were gen erally women, the reverse was true of hers. It s a poor rule that won t work both ways! It was surprising how many of the men began to be interested in their hair. Of course Steve took exclusive charge of his regular barber-shop. The lather and blade were not to Sassy s taste, even had the men wished her to use them, which they did not. There are some things better done by rule devoid of sentiment, and shav ing is one of them. Few men would like to dream of having even the most charming of women fumbling over their faces with a razor. It would wake them up. But Sassie looked well, her dress ranging in color through all the shades of hilarity, 64 WHENCE AND WHITHER as she stood behind the "Daisy" and turn ing its crank, which she did in a way en tirely novel. She would swing the entire heft of her slender body, in lieu of strength, upon it, hands and feet free, keeping her delicate poise until the trick was done. It was really a nice bit of gym nastics which many of the young men came purposely to see, even those who were leav ing their kinks to their kinking. "Mis Salisbury sho is good company!" was the general verdict and even her rather reticent husband was forced to allow, "Dey ain t nothin lonesome when Sassie is around!" That her temperament, in her life with its exposures, should have gotten her into trouble well, how could it have been oth erwise I One of the most constant of the frequent ers of "The Parlors" on her days was a splendid looking man, familiarly known along the coast as "Choctaw Charley," a fellow about, say, three-fifths Indian, the 5 65 WHENCE AND WHITHEE other two parts pure Congo all negro as to feature and showing his preponderance of Indian blood only in a majestic figure of fine angles, a coppery tinge under his skin, and his straight hair, stiff as black bristles. A stolid fellow he was, so protected by the wall of reticence which surrounded him that it was hard to know whether he was ultimately good or bad. Since the death, a few years back, of his handsome Indian-negro mother, he had lived alone in his hut between levees on the river s edge, where he presided over a set of shrimp nets, in season, and with his gun and skiff, brought in enough game and drift-wood to support the simple life he led. An independent, easy-going creature he had been, nothing seeming to disturb his equanimity until he fell into the snare of Sassie s red-ruffled temperament. A man like that is often ensnared by a woman like this. One day, Charley was sitting beside 66 .WHENCE AND WHITHER her this was when he first began coming vaguely wondering why she wore a red bow over one ear and a blue one above the other, when he remarked that it was getting late and he must go, to which she replied : Set still, man ! I 11 see dat it don t git no later ! And with the words she kicked her red slipper across the room and stopped the clock. A woman Iik6 this may be shocking, but she is not dull. Still, even as he sat under her spell, the surface of Choctaw Charley s imperturbable nature remained calm. He simply stayed and stayed sitting for hours sometimes upon the long green sofa and practising his reticence upon her while Sassie played around him. He was much younger than Steve better looking, ath letic, strong, afraid of nothing and he was always there, clean, sober, low of voice. Sassie was a most indifferent mother strange how often such are endowed with 67 WHENCE AND WHITHEE the sacred gift and while she dressed Junior flashily, beat him to " teach him manners" and neglected him, she would fight any one who looked askance at him. A typical savage mammal of the human species she was, in fact, maternal only in fierce instinct of defense. And so, when his father proposed taking the boy with him for his days at the Branch, she was glad to have him gone and she would always pack up an unconscion able lot of indigestible food for "his lunch, " to be eaten at odd hours during his absence. She liked rich food, herself, and the home table which she seemed to keep going by a sort of sleight of hand, fairly reeked with cloying sweets and pastries. Eeckless in her hospitality, she was one of those women whose lure lies largely in unreckoning generosity. She often said that she didn t enjoy anything that she could n t share, and she would not hesitate, if he pleased her fancy, to invite to her 68 WHENCE AND WHITHER larder a man who had come for a "ten-cent stretch" (her lowest fee), and send him home with fifty cents worth of "gilt edged victuals" inside his waistcoat and she would feel that she was making money, at that. Of course, the ten-cent service at the Daisy was slight and there were occasional dissatisfactions as when on one occasion, a "patient" complained, with embarrass ment: "I hates to say it, Mis Salisbury, but de las time you gi e me a stretch, I paid you a good dime an befo I got home, ev erything had relapsed back ag in." "A dime, you say?" roared Sassie. "How long you reckon a dime would feed me befo I d git hongry ag in!" A re joinder which passed for fine repartee and silenced the complainant with a chorus of mirth. Junior was nearly six years old when a second child was born, a daughter this 69 WHENCE AND WHITHER time, and the hard-worked husband who had lapsed into the humdrum of life, expe rienced a rejuvenation of sentiment in the new set of emotions awakened. A pretty little thing, she was, really quite exquisite in her diminutive perfections. Steve had somehow thought of the coming child as another boy, vainly threatening to "put Junior s nose out of joint, " and so he had not at all foreseen how it would be. If any one had told him that a little thing, no bigger than a wax doll, could lay a wee hand over his sleeve and cast such a spell upon him that he would sit for hours, just watching it sleep and make faces that through the nebulous power of this lit tle thing, he would be so revived in con jugal tenderness as not only to relent in his recent strictures as to the squandering of money but would actually himself go out and recklessly buy great piles of red embroidery and lace and fringe, "just to have in the house for his pretty things/ " 70 WHENCE AND WHITHER before the daughter was two days old if any one had foretold such " softy be havior, " he would not have believed it. So rapt was he in his hovering devotion to the babe that he did not, for a long time, realize the mother s impatience of his con tinual presence in the house. And even when she finally complained between pout ing and laughter that she always did hate a Miss Nancy-of-a-man, hanging round the house forever," he only laughed and said, "Dat s de truth. Dey ain t no money in dis business. I mus be up an gittin an rake in money for my growin f am ly ! And so things soon fell again into the old routine which was very little changed by the coming of another child. When Sas- sie went back to her duties at the stretcher she would go, in spite of Steve s remon strance Choctaw Charley was in evidence as before and no one seemed to pay much attention to them. It was he who pushed the old perambulator all redone in pink 71 WHENCE AND WHITHER and white into the " studio parlor," with the new baby when she stirred; it was he who ran to see whether she were open ing or closing her eyes. He it was who lifted her out and held her in the palm of his hand aloft and showed her the moon through the open window; he who, as she grew older, threw her up to the ceiling and caught her every time ; he who took things from her left hand and placed them in the right and it was to him that she first held out her baby arms. She liked the "daddy-man," too, and would let him hold her on his knee but then Charley was never around at these times and daddy-man did very well for second best. And the l second best knew that as between him and the mother, he was first, unless she were ill or hungry and it gave zest to his already perfect joy in her. She was a witching little thing of nearly three, standing in Charley s lap as he sat 72 WHENCE AND WHITHER in the " studio " window, one day, when Steve came upon them unexpectedly. Her little head, turned coyly, lay against that of the man and as she turned quickly, recognizing his footsteps as he approached from behind, Steve got a swift picture of the two profiles, one against the other. It was only a flash but the revelation was vivid and final. In this brief present ment, he clearly saw what only love-blind ness had hitherto denied him. Involuntarily, he put his hand before his eyes and he staggered so that he would have fallen but for Charley who led him to a chair. Then he and Sassie, seeing him ill, together laid him at length upon the green sofa and Sassie hysterically drenched him with cold water and called upon God to "have mercy upon her." And pres ently the man opened his eyes and said he was better and wanted to be still. "Would they leave him alone for a little while?" How often had he teased his wife about 73 WHENCE AND WHITHER her unconsciously straightening her own child s hair by prenatal thought and the impression of "seeing it done every day" and even doing it herself! And the woman had laughed and told of how this or that neighbor had "marked a child" by fright or insistent thought. It was not only the straight Indian hair, or the coppery tinge, so effective in the baby cheek. It was not this feature or that. It was the repeated Choctaw type this and more. The small face was in its entirety, a replica of the other. There was nothing to be said. He had been living in a fooPs paradise and an angel with a flaming sword had cast him out and the door was forever closed. He was pretty still about the house all that evening, only hovering about his boy and silently looking from one face to another of the three who breathed with him in the room. He rose early next morning, before sun- 74 WHENCE AND WHITHER rise, and started forth to the cabin among the wood-piles on the river. Choctaw Charley was up before him and sat on the levee, examining his nets. There was a gleam of sudden terror in the Indian s steady eyes when first he saw the man and he rose to his height. Then, perceiving the calm face of his early guest, he put forth his hand, which Steve affected not to see. Looking the Indian evenly in the eyes for a full minute, he drawled: "How much 11 you pay me for her, Charley!" A grunt was the only reply. A short, ugly "Huh!" And Steve spoke again: "I done asked you a question, Choc- taw Charley. I say what 11 you gimme for her?" "You gwine sell yo wife, Steve!" "NO," the man thundered, "I gwine git my divo cemint papers out n de co t- house an den I gwine sell my slave!" 75 WHENCE AND WHITHER And he lowered his eyes and took in the Indian s face. i How much you want for her? " Char ley s eyes flinched as he put the question. "What you got?" The retort was im mediate and it cut like a knife. 1 i What I got! I got I got I got I got a few " 4 * Never mind about de few tell me what you got, I say." "I got my skift an my gun an dis fishin truck an my watch an deze is my wood-piles, an " "How much you got in money?" The red man hesitated. "Talk, Charley. It s gittin late. How much money you got?" "I got three hundred an ninety odd dollars." "Is dat all?" "Yas, dat s all," and the eyes he lifted were clear. It was all. "Well," said Steve. "I ll take it." 76 "How much 11 you pay me for her, Charley?" WHENCE AND WHITHER His voice was steady and controlled. He might have been dickering for a horse. "Yas," he repeated, in a moment. "I 11 take it I 11 take de money, but you can keep yo things. You 11 need em. "An now, don t you dast to show yo face on de plantation tel you hear Pom me. I ll give it out dat you s sick an you is sick! You hear me? YOU IS SICK!" "Yas, I hear. I is sick." "Well, dat s fixed. I m gwine straight up to de co t-house f om heah, an ef I git my papers to-day, you 11 heah f om me some time to-night. Ef not, to-morrow or nex day or nex day or nex day but tel you see me heah, please ricollec you s laid up! You onder- stand?" "Yas, I onderstand." "An nobody f om my house 11 trouble you tel I sesso. Have de money counted out for me an when it s paid in, you 77 WHENCE AND WHITHEE kin call round an git yo prop ty. An dat s all." "Dat s all?" repeated the Indian, but lie spoke with a rising inflection noting which, the husband turned back. " What mo ?" he asked. For answer, the Indian only lifted his hand, measuring from the ground the height of a little child, and his eyes were full of sorrow. "We each keeps our own." Steve s voice was softer as he answered. "De law would give her to me. I owns de mother an de law titles me to her in crease. But I can t handle sech as dat. Hit s too little an too big. I d ruther let it slip through my fingers. I m sel- lin you de mammy an I 11 give de chile her freedom. "An ricollec , Choctaw Charley you s sick, an I s yo medicine-man an my perscription for you is to stay heah tel you Jieah f om me, you Jieah?" 78 WHENCE AND WHITHER And slowly withdrawing his eyes, the aggrieved man turned away. It was the third night after this, about sundown, when Steve reappeared at the river cabin. He found Charley standing bare-headed on the bank waiting for him stolid, quiet, patient. As the evening sun shone on his head, Steve seemed to see a diminutive counterpart of it beside it against the sky and it did not make his task easy. Still, his voice gave no sign of shock as he said, when he had come up to the man: "Well everything is settled an done." The Indian turned his slow eyes, in quiringly. "De divo ce-paper a ready?" he said. "No. I didn t have to git no divo ce- paper. De Jedge say dat yaller, bow- legged Baptis preacher dat married us, he didn t register it down on de books an 79 WHENCE AND WHITHER he war n t no regular ardainded preacher, nohow an so he say de marriage is an- nulded an avoided an now it s dis solved by its own acid. An dat leaves us free." "So she nuver is blonged to you, by rights!" "She blonged to me by matrimony, but not by ceremony, he say, an he say dat matrimony widout legal ceremony won t stan befo de law." "Den what is you sellin me?" There was a mean look in the Indian s face for just a minute, as he put the question. Steve bent and looked him in the eye. "I tol you de yether day what I was sellin you, Choctaw Charley." His voice was like steel now. "I m a-sellin you my slave. Leastways, dat was what I started out to do. But I can t do it, man. I done changed my mind. De boy, he likes her. He likes her even wid me an ef he s sick, he likes her above me 80 WHENCE AND WHITHER an she s his mammy. I can t sell my boy s mammy. But I tell you what I 11 do ; I 11 pass er along to you de way she was passed to me. Ole Jedge Hunger- ford deeded er to me for a Christmas- gif an I 11 do de same by you. Dat is I 11 give her to you for a gif , an you kin date it to suit yo self. Good Friday is de nex holiday, but nemmine about dat, an " 1 1 An I cert n y is thankful to Charley began, but Steve shut him off. Wait, man, he interposed. i Don t be thankful too quick. I m a-comin to dat three hundred an odd dollars. I won t sell de woman, but de price of de chile is per- zac ly whatever money you got. You see ? "Yas,Isee." "Go, git it!" Steve blurted, with an abrupt motion with his thumb toward the cabin. Obediently, the Indian went in and brought a long stocking, filled. 6 81 WHENCE AND WHITHER " Count it." But as the man began to empty the coins upon the ground coins and little bundles of green paper Steve stopped him. "Dat ll do," he said; "How much is dey?" "Three hundred an ninety-nine dollars an forty-five cents." "Make it fo hundred," said Steve. "How?" He threw up two empty hands. "Fetch de change when you comes for de goods an now, put de money in my saddle-bag, yonder," and while the Indian obeyed, he followed, preparing to mount. When the money was safely bestowed, Steve handed over to the Indian the deed of conveyance of woman and child and rose into the saddle. "Now, you ain t seen her for three days, Charlie," he said, as he took the reins, an " 82 WHENCE AND WHITHER "How you know?" glared the man. "I know, caze I know. I fixed it so I d be sho , befo I lef home. I told er I had passed by yo cabin an dat you was sick, an threatenin to break out but I wasn t sho ef it was de small-pox! No, you ain t seen her, not her! I don t like to lie, mo n I have to. I did n t say posi tive dat you had de small-pox. I didn t need to. "An I ain t nuver mentioned none o dis business to her. She don t know no mo n what she mought o guessed dat day, when hell opened to me an she s a poor guesser. "An now, you can come for her an de chile on Saturday, not befo . An when you come, you kin tell er de news an show er de paper. I ain gwine broach it to er. I gwine migrate me an my son an by Saturday about sundown, we ll be far f om heah. Dis place don t suit me, nohow. Dey ain t money enough 83 WHENCE AND WHITHER in it. I gwine whar dey s dollars in cir culation, stid o dimes an work de Daisy whar she 11 make us rich, an I reckon dat s all I got to say. Clk! Clk!" This last to the horse started him home ward. There were no further words be tween the men no comments no recrim inations no adieux. The affair was closed. From here, Steve soon turned his horse toward the Branch road. He would not go back home. It was easier to stay away. In the early forenoon of the next day, while he was busying himself in quiet preparations for departure, putting his things away, a messenger came for him a messenger who would have been pale had he not been so brown. As it was, Steve saw at a glance that he was a trag edy-bearer, saw it by the ashen hue of his lips, saw it before his words gave him the lie, as he said : 84 WHENCE AND WHITHER "Better come home, Steve. Mis Salis bury ain t so well." "Who killed erf" The story of death was written all over the man s face. "I don t know, sir. Dey foun er daid. De doctor, he say she been daid all night. " "Where!" "In her house. In yo house. In her bed." An de boy ? De chillen 1 "Dey all right. De boy 11 tell you." And so did he, straight and without a falter. It seems that the little girl had climbed and was curiously handling the things on Steve s shelf, in the barber-shop, when she opened a box of razors and her mother, instead of getting them from her tactfully, tried to force them and in the struggle, one of the blades swept across the woman s wrist, severing an artery. "Blood spurted so high, in jumps," 85 WHENCE AND WHITHER said the boy, "an mammy fainted dead away, same as when she gets happy in church an when she come to, she tried to get up an she tried to get up an she tried to get up an en she went to sleep. An en we-all, we went to sleep an dis mornin , she wouldn t wake up an she wouldn t wake up." Such was the pitiful story. Sally Ann had always swooned at the sight of blood and the rest is easy to follow. The news spread fast enough. It was about noon when Choctaw Charley came in. Of course, he had heard every yer- sion of the tragedy on the way. The little body, dressed for burial, lay, a tranquil form in yellow wax, upon the green sofa. As Charley stood, looking down upon it, his head low upon his bosom, Steve came and stood beside him. Neither spoke. Then, presently, the children came. The wee girl in scarlet twisted one hand 86 .WHENCE AND WHITHER through Charley s and the other she lay against Steve s knee and the boy pressed his cheek against his father s arm and his lip quivered. After a while, Steve said to the man beside him: " Maybe it s all for de best, Charley." But Choctaw Charley, Charley, of the stolid mind, could not answer. His face was set. And when presently a single great tear rolled down his face, he threw it away roughly with his empty hand. 1 Come into the other room," said Steve, after a while, and when they were there, "Charley," he said, "dat money I don t want it. I lowed to save it for de little gal. I knowed her mammy couldn t nuver exac ly save money not sayin no thin ag in er but it s for you, now, an for her." Still Charlie was dumb. He could not talk yet. He might have been of stone. But next day, when the funeral was over, 87 WHENCE AND WHITHER the two men walked home together. Then, while they sat in the front room not the "Studio Parlor " but the other her parlor on the other side a little room still pal pitant with the spirit of its vanished mis tress, and while the children laughed to gether beside them, it was Charley who said: 1 1 Seem like a pity to part em. Nobody knows no thin but you an me." Steve shot a quick glance at the man. "An would you be willin " "Keep dat money, Steve an do for er an I 11 come up wid more as she needs it. You kin do mo for er n I kin. You got people an I ain t. An she won t nuver know an I 11 come or whar you go, I 11 be close behind. You know, she loves me the best an you won t min dat jes lemme keep up wid er a little, an " While they were talking along, so, the children who were eating their corn-bread 88 " Seem like a pity to part ein" WHENCE AND WHITHER and molasses, under the lamp, started to ask questions. It was Junior who began it. "Jes look at all de big moths, daddy fallin into de lamp. Who made de moths, daddy V "Dod!" put in the wee girl. "Dod maked everyfing. Mammy said so." "An when dey drops in de candle, whar does dey go den?" pursued the boy. "Back to God, baby." "Back to Dod? Everyfing back to Dod?" And Junior, his eyes alight, added, "Ole hoppy-toad frogs an pritty butterflies all back to God?" "An red mammies all back ?" "Yas, chillen." "I m sheepy," said the little red-winged moth, "wusht I could go back to-night to Dod an mammy." 89 A CASE IN DIPLOMACY A CASE IN DIPLOMACY! I HAD been writing Joshua s love let ters for him all winter, and, after the first two or three, in the construction of which I had dutifully consulted him, it seemed better simply to take the temper of the fellow s mood and to let it color ef fusions which were entirely my own in form. If he seemed timorous, .gray was the hue of my plaint. A jubilant spirit flowered my pages with couleur de rose when he was fond and sure ; while, in a situation which warranted so reckless declaration as "love by po try- verse," as he expressed it, I fell easily into rime, made to the need or frankly borrowed to his unfailing de light. It is well understood among my negroes 93 A CASE IN DIPLOMACY that I am pleased to act as amanuensis when I can. As my professional duties claim much of my time, I rather welcome this confidential service which brings me into personal acquaintance with them, so that when questions are referred to me, as master of the place, I may arbitrate wisely, knowing my material whether the well-springs be sweet or bitter. The negro is peculiarly sensitive to the effect of high-sounding language far be yond his ken, following flowery lines above his own head with keen delight and a gen eral if not full understanding. I shall never forget the first time Joshua came to me with his request. Thinking to write strictly by his dictation, I said, as I reached for my pen : < Well, Josh, I m ready. What shall I say!" Instead of answering, the boy began to squirm and to giggle and it was some time before I could get a coherent utterance 94 A CASE IN DIPLOMACY from Mm; but finally, after a number of e jaeulatory spurts, such as De idee ! An you a educated ge man o speunce He, he, he!" he turned to me with: "G way, Marse Horace g way! You axin me what to write he, he! Ef I knowed college words, you reckon I d come to you?" And so it was that, after some parley on the subject, I said, dipping my pen : "I believe you said her name was Juney so, shall I begin with My dear Juney I " This sobered him. He stopped giggling: No, Sir ! Not yit ! Not on paper ! > Not on paper ? Then how shall I make a letter of it?" Now, Marse Horace ! You knows what I means ! De paper >s all right, but look out what you puts on it ! Don t, for Gord sake, say <my dear ! De gal ain t signi fied her consents, yit! Mo n dat, I ain t approached de neighborhoods o manage not yit ! 95 A CASE IN DIPLOMACY "Dis heah letter ain t no mo n a sort o he-bird chirp, me settin on my limb an she on hern, in de love-vine. Ef ef I was to say my dear now, what would be lef to me to sing time we starts to build de nest?" The boy s sentiment surprised and pleased me. Quite right you are, I replied. Quite right ! Then what shall I say 1 If not my dear, I suppose it shall be just Juney or Miss Juney !" "She name Miss Little John. " The amendment was serious. "What s de matter wid Dear Miss Littlejohn, for a letter I Sech as Dear Juney, I keeps for speech!" "Keep that for speech, do you?" I laughed. "I hardly think you need my help, Joshua." "Yas, Sir, I does! I sho does! I needs it severe! When I say I keeps it for speech, I means for future speech. I ain t 96 No, sir ! Not yit ! Not ou paper ! A CASE IN DIPLOMACY nuver is said no sech to her yit. I don t nuver see er on y but jes Sundays. But every Sunday of Gord s world I walks dem leven deep miles, all charged with lan guageden de first sight of er, seem like hit all but strikes me dumb. I been gwine up to Three Forks now for purty nigh fo - teen Sundays, I reckon, ef dey was counted, an I ain t nuver is done nuthin but set down beside er an mop my forehead an , of co se, present er wid de gum-drops or rock-candy I fetches er an seem like she s purty much de same way. She 11 talk right along, jes as long as anybody else is in de room but but quick as we s lef by ourselfs, we bofe falls back on rock- candy an gum-drops an sweet-gum, of co se. An den, de fus thing I knows, de larm clock strikes an I has to strike out for home." "And who sets the alarm?" I asked, amusement in my voice, in spite of me. "We does she or me, air one. We has 97 A CASE IN DIPLOMACY to reg late ourselves by it. Hit s de on iest way I kin be sho o gittin home befo day. "I don know how it is, but seem like settin beside a gal an chewin gum is slow work an yit dey ain t no thin dat 11 mek time fly lak it do. Seem like quick as we starts in, de clocks gits excited an rushes us along into a sort o Paradise- gyarden whar we loses our way. Oh, yas, Sir we sho needs de larm-clock. Most o de plantation house-co tin is reg-lated by larm-clocks. Hit lets you take comfort wid a gal, a larm clock do." "Then, shall I begin with Miss Little- john ?" I interrupted. "Dey ain t no harm in Dear Miss Lit- tlejohn, is dey? Dat s on y manners in writin , so dey tell me. Even de shoe maker wha duns you for a pair o bro- gans 11 write you down, Dear Sir. " Joshua was no fool. "Well," said I, actually beginning to 98 A CASE IN DIPLOMACY write, "Now I have that Dear Miss Lit tle John what else?" More giggling and then: "Befo Gord, Marse Horace, even de name of er whilst you say it, seem like it summonses er befo me an strikes me dumb. My language is clean gone an I almost finds myself feelin in my pocket for de chewin -gum. Don t terrogate me, please, Sir. Jes write it along smooth datin from de gum." And so I did, although I could not wholly; suppress my amusement when I replied : "Comfortable, but not very progressive, this chewing-gum romance I should say." The words were above his head I knew and yet, not wholly, for he replied without hesitation : "I s pec it do seem like gwine roun an roun de mulberry-bush, to set an chew ag inst time, but hit s brung me de on iest encouragemint I s foun , so fer, yit. "You see, when I comes away, one time 99 A CASE IN DIPLOMACY I 11 take bofe gums an chew em all de week; an de nex Sunday she takes em. De two wads togedder ain t any too much for solitude. "She got em dis week an dat s hue- come I walks wid a lighter step. Ef she didn t lean todes me consider ble, she wouldn t chew after me. Fus time she tuk an tuk de gum, she toss er haid an she say to me, she say: " * Joshuay, she say, you won t have no secrets f om me by nex Sunday when you come. I gwine chew all yo thoughts out n yo wad o gum, she say." "Pretty good, for a silent girl," I laughed. "And what did you say to that?" "Say?" he chuckled. " T war n t no time for speech. I jes ne mine what I done, Marse Horace ! I could n t help my- se f an she lookin so mischievious, chewin out my thoughts. Sir? He, he! Yas, Sir dat what I done; huccome you 100 A CASE IN sech a good guesser! No, no not in de mouf jes two or three times anywhar I d strike er bouts er face. Dat s to be ex pected ! "But go on wid de letter, please, Sir. You got de Dear Miss Littlejohn. Now I takes my pen in han " It took two hours to write that first let ter but at the end of the time, I knew my man pretty well. Every expression was held in question and threshed out. And so, after several similar efforts at dicta tion compromised to collaboration, I finally learned to turn out love letters done to a turn which delighted both Josh and his sec retary. How the "Nut Brown mayde" liked them it would be hard to say. So far as I know, they were never answered. The fellow had been sending her some thing like a letter every week for several months when, one day, he came to me, look ing troubled. "Marse Horace/ he complained, while 101 A CASE IN DIPLOMACY he fanned himself with his hat, a sure sign of embarrassment, "Marse Horace, I jes called in to-day to ax you to please, Sir, git me engaged, ef you please, Sir. Dis everlastin letter business, hit keep a see sawing but seem like hit don t git nowhar! An I s tired o dat twenty-mile pull up to Three Forks an back every Sunday. Dey s been Sundays when it s been driz zly an raw when I d a rested off f om de trip ef she war n t in sech a beehive o yong fellers, all watchin to see me slow up an of co se I wouldn t vacate dat honeysuckle bench, an dey every one eager to take my place. So, for Gord sake, Marse Horace, engage us right away!" This was delightful and needless to say, all that I could instil of the impetuous lover not to be denied, went into the next effusion and the thing was done. I wish I had a copy of this proposal let ter. My recollection of it is far from clear, but I know it breathed of passionate 102 A CASE IN DIPLOMACY appeal and I do recall a certain pride in the rime with which it closed, especially in its second line, made to fit an extraordi nary mouth. I hope never to forget Joshua s delight in the verses which went about like this : An so, my on iest angel, Juney, I wooes you for yo life-long smile ! I is yo lover, soft an spooney, I s traveled many a weary mile In every kind o wind an weather I s plowed the road twixt you an me, So, let us jine our lives together For time an for eternitee! . i ; How would Amen do, to finish it slick 1" chuckled the boy, while tears of mingled emotion surprised his eyes. And so it was made to end : For time and for eternitee Amen! A few days after this, Joshua confided to me that he had given the girl a ring which 103 A CASE IN DIPLOMACY lie was hiring at twenty-five cents a month and when I asked him why he had not bought it outright, he scratched his head, while he chuckled : "You see, Marse Horace, hit s dis-a- way: S posin I was to pay cash for de ring an den she d jilt me off ! I don t want no dead wood on my hands. No, Sir ! I lows to wait an see how dis ingagemint washes! Ef it proves to be fast color, I done made my rangements at de sto e to have de ring-rent go on to de buyin -price twelve dollars an hit s fine gold, reel rolled-gold de man say rolled out pyore, an guaranteed good for a long married life!" For a while after this, I saw less of Joshua. The fuller understanding seemed to preclude the need of the midweek assur ance, which I interpreted as a favorable sign. There might easily be something too sacred in the ripened romance for trans cription by a third party. 104 \ A CASE IN DIPLOMACY So I had put the matter by, when, one day, I chanced to hear that the girl, Juney, had come up to work on land adjoining Joshua s field and the affair seemed wholly flourishing. Thus several months passed. There were many practical reasons why it seemed well enough for them to defer the marriage. Although he was an indus trious fellow, Joshua was but a lad and he was only beginning life. He did not own even his mule and he had entered upon the purchase of the few acres of land he culti vated only at my earnest solicitation. In my limited experience, I have found that a deed to a bit of land is a great moral force, even the deed prospective being a stimulus to industry and saving. The girl, Juney, was one of a large fam ily and her wages were always collected by a step-father several times removed, who applied them to the support of the brood all, also "one half remove" from full sister and brotherhood. When Juney 105 A CASE IN DIPLOMACY wanted a new gown or a pair of shoes, it was matter for family consultation and often of dispute and the Sunday finery she wore to Joshua s undoing was all second hand, earned by odd jobs done overtime or on holidays. So the winter passed and I had not thought of the lovers for months when one day the boy surprised me by another visit and a first glance at his troubled face showed me that things were not going well with him. I greeted him cheerfully, how ever: "Well, this is like old times ! How goes it, Josh? Not getting back to letter- writ ing, are you?" For answer, he dropped limply upon the steps at my feet, and, fanning with the fragment of felt which answered for a hat, he began : "Please, Sir, ax me to set down, Mars- ter. I needs yo counsel to lif my sper- its " 106 A CASE IN DIPLOMACY And just at this moment, it happened that a mocking-bird in the vine almost at my elbow sent out a great, jubilant song. It was so brave, so daring and so trium phant that it compelled attention, even breaking the boy s sentence so that he could not but look upward. " There are two there and they are car rying straws, " I began, when the singer gave me a clearing, looking into the boy s face as I spoke, "And I thought of you, Josh, when I watched them yesterday. May is love s month, you know and it s nearly here. You remember what you said about build ing your nest you and Juney " The fellow put up his hand in protest. "Don t, Marse Horace, for Gord sake, don t! I can t stand it. No, Sir, s cuse me sayin so, but I sho can t stand it! "You axed me jes now does I desire to write a letter an my reply to you is Yas, Sir I sho does. Dat s what brung me 107 A CASE IN DIPLOMACY heah. My courage is all dismounted an I needs you to write me a letter, sho an it mus be a scorcher at dat ! I lit a cigar, deliberately while I said : "What s the trouble! Better begin at the beginning and tell me about it. "Dey ain t no beginnin to it, Sir nor no een but dey s trouble enough, all de same! An no trouble, nuther I wash dey was trouble hit would smooth my way. I can t sleep good at night an I se so sleepy all day an seem like I done los intruss in life an ain t got no appetite to work an an an "About five grains of quinine, three times a day, Josh," I said slowly. "You re malarial, boy." But seeing that my words distressed him, I instantly re pented and thinking to strike the seat of the disorder, I asked: "How s Juney?" "She s very well, I thank you, Sir. Dey ain t nothin wrong wid Juney. I wush dey was somethin wrong wid er, 108 A CASE IN DIPLOMACY so I d have occasion to quar l. I mought as well out wid it I come to git you to write a letter to Juney, please, Sir. I wants to be disingagedl" "To what?" I cried. "You re joking, man." "No, Sir, I ain t jokin an I wants you to write de disingagin letter. I can t broach it to er by word o mouth an dat s huccome I come to you ag in. Make it short an swif. Tell er dat I can t afford to marry ! Tell er I se dead broke dat I done failed in business!" "But you haven t, boy. You are doing finely made a good crop and a first pay ment and she knows it and " "Cert n y, she knows it an dat s what I wants. Ef she thought I was sho nough dead broke, I d nuver git shet of er. You know women, Marse Horace an you knows how my-color women is! Dey fa vorite occupation is bendin dey backs over wash-tubs to suppo t a no-account man 109 A CASE IN DIPLOMACY jes 9 for love! No, Sir, I wants to put up a fus class bluff an she 11 know whar I stands! Let er down sudden but break de fall! "An put it in de letter dat she s wel come to keep dat installmint ring ef she 11 complete de payments." "Why, Joshua!" I was really ashamed of the fellow. "I am surprised. I thought you would be more generous." "So I is generous, Marse Horace so I is generous! Ef I was mean, or jes jus , I d finish dem payments myself an take de ring to bestow on my next ch ice. Dey ain t but two dollars due on it an ef she wants to buy it in for dat amount, she s welcome. "But, for Gord sake, git me disingaged, Marster! I se clair wo e out!" "You haven t told me about it, yet. What s the trouble? Isn t she true and affectionate?" "Oh, yas, Sir yas, Sir No, Sir dey 110 A CASE IN DIPLOMACY ain t no thin to tell. Juney, she s all right. She s too good for me, I reckon an maybe dat s all de trouble. I feels like a starched shirt after a rain an* you know hit s onpossible for sech as dat to put up a bold front. Hit s boun to give in. "So long as I was losin my shoes in dem miles o sticky mud every Sunday, I d a died for her. When dey was twenty-nine men elbowin one another to git a look at er an one or two razor-fights a week " "You mustn t expect to have things all your own way," I submitted, gently; "you know the old saying, The course of true love never runs smooth. "Yas, Sir, I knows dat ! Dat what I say. Hit s runnin too smooth too damn smoo s cuse me, Marster; I ain t got de polite language to dicorate dis case to its needs an I don know what to say. "Talkin about Juney, I spec she s 111 A CASE IN DIPLOMACY about de bes gal on dis plantation, ef not on de whole Orange Turn an dat makes de way hard for me. Soon as she come up heah, she give out to all de yether boys dat she was my fy-an-say an 7 she ain t nuver is looked at nobody else an 1 she do all my mendin for me an she sho do make me walk a chalk she sho do. She s even started keepin my money for me an* she s got me dat stingy I almos begrudges er de bottle o ginger-pop I treats er to on Sadday nights she s so set on savin for de house-keepin . Why, I ain t wo e dat duck suit you gimme but once-t dis last season an dat time, she done it up for me an she ain t nuver is brought it back. She say dey ain t no use wastin it on her. Tell de truth, I ain t got no thin ag in de gal an I d do anything I could for er in reason. But, befo Gord, I done los my taste for er, dat s all "So, now you knows de case in full, 112 A CASE IN DIPLOMACY please to write de letter an 9 make it straight and strong I" There is pathos to be found in every life-story, if we follow it far enough. I felt sorry for the lad and yet I could not forget the other party to the comedy- comedy which has ever its tragedy note and so my mind reverted to the girl, the absent, the over-sure the rejected. And my next plea was for her : "And how will Juney take this, Joshua ?" He removed his hat again and began fanning : "Dat s some hV I can t allow myse f to study about, Marse Horace. Dat s her een o de line." "Yes, it is her end of the line but you threw her the line, didn t you! Suppose you think this thing over ? You Ve got tired being engaged. There s nothing new in that. But when people get tired being engaged, they generally get married for 8 113 A CASE IN DIPLOMACY a change. My advice to you is to go and hurry up the wedding. I m sending Jim Herricks and his wife down to work in the sorghum field and that leaves their cabin vacant and I was thinking the other day that you and Juney might like to move in there there s a nice little garden- patch there, and you ve got a neat little balance to your credit. Draw out enough to finish paying for that ring and to buy a few necessary things, and "And, by the way, does Juney know you owe for the ring?" "Yas, Sir she knows it, all right! Dat is, she knows it now. I told er las Chues- day night when we was walkin home Pom prayer-meetin . She had stood up an give er speunce in chu ch toP how happy she was wid love sekyore in er life an all sech as dat an somehow, she seemed jes a little too s rene in er mind so I up an told er I was behin in my payments on de ring, an one thing led to another tel 114 A CASE IN DIPLOMACY I had out wid de entire story how I had rented it tel we could sample de ingage- mint. But I couldn t make er mad, no ways. She lowed dat dat was a good plan. Ef I could git er hoppin mad one time, I mought up an marry er endurin de riconcilement. But dey ain t no use, now. Dis ingage- mint is played out by too fair a season, same as you see de cotton fields do, some peaceful yeahs, when everything seems goin along heavenly an de fields start to swivel up, f om pyore lack o conterdic- tion. For a fine crop, gimme enough too- colds an too-hots an too-wets an too- drys to egg on de growth. Dis nachel death f om heart-f ailin is a hopeless com plaint. "I ain t nuver is got drunk, but dey s been times lately, good religious times at dat, when seem like I could understand how some fool men does git drunk jes to break step! 115 A CASE IN DIPLOMACY "So, write de letter, please, Sir an I 11 call for it about dis time to-morrer a rousin disingagin letter no ifs or ~buts to it!" The announcement of dinner put an end to our interview and the boy went home, but as he turned down the walk, I called to him: "Not to-morrow, Joshua. Come in again on Saturday, and I 11 be ready for you." I wanted time to make some inquiries about the girl whom he was throwing over, and to study the situation a little. I had heard only the best reports of Juney as a worker and Josh was an exceptional hand, industrious, peaceable and apparently hon est, and, in my association with him through his pathetic romance, I had grown fond of the boy. And I sympathized with him in his di lemma more than I would confess, being a man myself and realizing the exhilaration of pursuit. But, even more sensibly, I 116 A CASE IN DIPLOMACY knew the luxury of surrender of love in the house of home and the peace of ful filment and so my championship of the woman was largely in the man s interest, after all. This interview was on Wednesday. I had allowed myself three days for investi gation and reflection. In the late afternoon of the day follow ing this, Thursday, I was sitting in my ac customed place on the veranda, smoking, as usual, while I chewed the cud of specula tion variously, for Joshua s was not the only tangle which I was interested in straightening. The sun was low and when I saw the outline of a slender girl against the crim son and perceived that she was approach ing from the " quarters road," it did not occur to me that it might be Juney until she was quite up to me and had spoken: " Jedge Bansom," she courtesied low as she spoke, "dis is Juney Littlejohn Pom 117 A CASE IN DIPLOMACY Three Forks and I called to ax you, please, Sir, ef I mought have de liberty to consult wid you about " About Joshua 1" I interrupted, delight in my voice. "No, Sir not about Joshuay dis time." And when she spoke his name, standing in the low sunlight, I fancied that I saw a swift bronzing of the yellow of her cheek. But only for a moment, for she had soon recovered herself, and she spoke clearly, if her voice did falter a little : "I scarcely knows how to splain de case out to you, Jedge but but I was bleeged to come myself or else send some tattletale on private business so I come "An I wants to ax you, Jedge, is you got a license to marry, dis yeah?" This was startling marriage, and Joshua not in it ! "I haven t a license, exactly but, as judge of this circuit, I do perform the civil 118 A CASE IN DIPLOMACY ceremony, sometimes. Would you mind telling me who may need my services f "Me, Sir," in voice scarcely audible. "When?" "To-morrow night." "You and who else?" At this, she threw a timorous glance over her shoulder and even further lowered her voice. "Me an Sam Sly del," bronzing again. "Sam Slydel of Three Forks? The well-digger with the cross ?" "Yas, Sir dat s him." "Mh hm! Yes, I see. I don t like to ask it, Juney, but you are not exactly a stranger to me, you know, although I have never seen you until now and I am inter ested in you. You see, I am in court a good deal and I hear a good many things about people who get into trouble. Has n t this Sam Slydel been hasn t he been in jail?" 119 A CASE IN DIPLOMACY "He don t min dat." She looked up now. "But I was thinking of you. As his wife, you would mind it." "He s out, now an he say he nuver is stole all dem chickens, nohow. Dey was others besides Sam in dat chicken mix- try." And then, she added, glancing again be hind her: "An dis is a secret business, Jedge Ban- som, please, Sir. Sam wrote me word by letter dat I better call an see you myself but he charged me not to tell you who I was gwine marry. Dat s what I git for tellin all I knows." "I shall not betray your confidence, Juney. There is no secret about a man s being in jail for chicken-stealing and I wished to be sure that the woman he mar ried should know it. And then, as I told you just now, I have been hearing a great deal of you from Joshua. Would you mind 120 A CASE IN DIPLOMACY telling me what has happened between you and him?" " Ain t nothin p tic lar happened. I jes got tired. I come down heah las fall. I swapped fields wid a gal wha was keepin company wid a Three Forks boy an took her field jes so Josh would n t have to take cold in all dat sof suction mud, walkin it twice-t every Sunday an I craved to see de world, anyhow. "So, ef me an Sam comes over heah to-morrer night about dis time, you 11 tie de knot, will you, Sir? He done swo he would take me back Mis Sly del, ef de court knows itse f an I don t want no fights. Joshuay done whupped him out three times a ready an I know he 11 come armed wid gun and razors. Joshuay ain t nuver is had no patience wid im. Say Sam Slydel to Joshuay, an it s wuss n a red rag to a bull an so I lays out to be married an clair out befo Josh gits wind of it." 121 A CASE IN DIPLOMACY " And so you find that you like him better than you do Josh, after all?" At this, she gave a helpless shrug and even laughed, languidly: "I s pec I 11 have to let it go at dat. I been ingaged to Sam, off n an on, right along, jes a sort o loose ingagemint, for a side-pleasure but, of cose, Sam ain t in it wid Josh not wid me! But but " She was twirling Josh s ring on her fin ger as she spoke. "But anything for a change, " she con cluded, wearily. "Dat s all past hist ry, now. An when I m gone, I wants to leave dis ingagemint ring o Josh s wid you, please, Sir so I 11 be sho Josh gits it safe-t." "Wouldn t you better leave it with me, now?" I scanned her face as I put the question. She seemed to be looking far afield as if, for the moment, forgetful of my presence, but, recovering herself, she turned her glance upon me while she said, 122 A CASE IN DIPLOMACY slowly: "Not yit not tel to-morrer night." And, as she turned away, she added: "Thanky, Jedge thanky kindly an please to ricollec dat dis is all pri vate business, please, Sir." "I shall not let Josh know that I have seen you if that is what you mean?" Dat s all thanky, Sir. And she was gone a slim silhouette against the sunset. As soon as she had left the footpath, I started off in the direction of Joshua s cabin. All my testimony was in, now, and I saw my way to win my case. Before I had reached the fellow s door, however, I perceived him crossing the field in the op posite direction so I beckoned to him to come and we walked down the road to gether. I was glad to have this assurance that he could not possibly have seen the girl. It gave me the needed clearing for my manceuver. "I am glad to see you, Josh," I began. "I want to tell you that I will write your 123 A CASE IN DIPLOMACY letter to-night but you 11 have to come up to the house and dictate it. He gave me a quick look, but said noth ing so I went on : "The truth is, if you put it off, Juney may not be here that is if what I hear is true and it came pretty straight. " Still, no answer, although I saw that he was instantly interested. "I wonder if you happen to know a fel low by the name of Slydel Sam Slydel, I believe he calls himself 1" "Sam Sly Devil, you better say," he snarled. What s he got to do wid Juney, I like to know!" "He is coming down here to-morrow night, determined to marry her and he has sent me word to be ready to tie the knot that s all I know." And after a minute, I added : "Of course, this lets you out and it will make things easy for you." I have seen some sudden transformations 124 A CASE IN DIPLOMACY in my life, but never such as that wrought by the magic of a name which seemed to transform the apathetic youth of yester day into a man of action and of fire. "When?" The voice which asked the question was so low in the throat and so remote that it frightened me. "I said to-morrow to-morrow night," I answered, and then sudden anger rose in me and flared resentment in behalf of the girl. No doubt my voice was satirical when I added : "It gives you time to write the letter and throw her over. Perhaps I may seem to have been taking unwarranted chances for the girl s dignity, but I felt sure of my case. "Write what!" he snarled again, and I quite forgave him for forgetting our rela tions for the moment. A tempest was rag ing within him and while he stood, silent, his face twitched with emotion. Finally, he turned to me : "Is you gwine be home to-night, Marse 125 A CASE IN DIPLOMACY Horace about eight o clock! " He spoke now in the even voice of control. "I shall be in my study as usual, from eight until ten," I answered and that was all. It was half -past eight and I was deep in the case of "Schupert vs. Schupert" when I heard a timid rap at my door and in reply to my none too amiable Come in ! " there entered the man, Joshua, leading by the hand none other than the maid, Juney Lit- tlejohn. "Why!" I exclaimed. "Is that you, Josh?" I had involuntarily risen as if in contemplation of that which was so soon to be required of me. "Marse Horace I means to say Jedge Eansom, I wushes to make you quainted wid Miss Juney Littlejohn." "And so, this is Juney, of whom I have heard you speak so often. I am glad to know you, Juney." So I set her mind at rest and in her grateful glance I had my 126 A CASE IN DIPLOMACY reward. " Joshua has been in love with you for a long time, my girl. He is a good boy and I believe you are worthy of him. Then, turning to Joshua, I added, "And now, what can I do for you both f Josh fairly giggled the words out of shape as he replied : "Git git git out de marryin -book, please, Sir." I have performed a good many similar ceremonies, first and last, but never one with more satisfaction than this. The fel low was fairly radiant in the glow of tri umph and, if the girl never looked her name before, she might have impersonated the poet s month of June as she stood in her simple flowered muslin, fairly enwrapped in the glamour of the "perfect day" of love s fulfilment. They had been gone only a few moments when Joshua was back again, for a parting 127 A CASE IN DIPLOMACY word, while his bride waited at the gate. "For Gord sake," he almost whispered, forgetting that we were alone, "don t let on to nobody, Marse Horace. I ain t named dat chicken-stealin jail-bird to er an she don t kno*w I s picion nothin an could you, please, Sir, telephome de news o dis ma iage over to Three Forks, right away, please, Sir? "We ain t had much time sence I con versed wid you a while ago, but we s done some swif talkin an we gwine have de chu ch-weddin a week f om Sunday night wid all proper bridesmaids an ring-cake an everything. I don t low to have lit tle Juney stinted, jes on account o mar- ryin a blame doggone fool like me, no, Sir ! But, I tell you de truth, Marse Horace, nothin but a lightnin -flash 11 strike some folks! But I s struck wid a lectric spark all right, now an I s dat racklass happy, my foots ain t touchin de groun ! 128 "Git git git out de marry in -book, please sir" A CASE IN DIPLOMACY "An you 11 sen de telephome, please, Sir? Thanky, Sir! An make it a peace able message an I trus it 11 git dar befo Sam Sly Devil gits started on his ram- pagious weddin - journey. I may have to kill im off befo I die, yit but I don t crave to resk makin Juney a bridal gal lows widder an so sen de telephome, please, Sir!" 129 THE AFTERGLOW THE AFTEEGLOW IT is all so strange so incomprehensible so impossible ! And yet As I read over this marriage-notice, and realize the pain in my heart, I know by these witnesses that it is even so. I, Mary Eandolph, age beyond mention and of a dignity hitherto unassailed Mary Eandolph, artist, known among the socially elect, envied by many and questioned by none Mary Eandolph, well-seasoned widow of the proud statesman and sol dier whose name she is said to ornament I, yes, even I standing alone in my little sky studio, taking my morning coffee which I have myself scientifically dripped and which I have to-day drunk standing, not knowing that I stood, so great is my emotional upheaval 133 THE AFTERGLOW I am to-day a jilted woman ! (All the world s a stage and what s this tittering in f the gallery?) "Who cares for elderly romance 1" Who, indeed, beyond its principals ? Who else really believes in it? Who knows any thing about it who indeed, but the el- derlies themselves? And yet What have we in earth s spring-time so rich and radiant, so affluent of color, so lavish of fragrance as autumn roses! What has the east, at early sun rise with all its serenities and silver in sinuations, its glittering innuendoes and bland certitudes, to compare with the mira cle of glory painted upon the west when the sun is low? All this has been said, and better said, before now, no doubt and what has it to do with me, Mary Eandolph, and the marriage-notice which came up to me in the dumb-waiter in the columns of the Morning Herald, along with my half pint 134 THE AFTERGLOW of cream and my rolls? the notice which I happened to see only because the jar had turned and spilt my cream over his name, offering it to me thus, coupled with hers, in a rich, opaline translucence. Dear me ! How my soul shrieked at the sight! For the presentment was final as brief just the names and date and place Berlin, Oct. 5th. Evidently cabled. How grotesque a feature in a touring- party of elderlies! I could not afford to join them fortunately or unfortunately. How would it have been had I been of the party as planned? And so it was that I stood and silently drank my coffee, not knowing that I stood, nor that my vacant chair was behind me all the time. I believe, attempting analysis, that it is the technique of elderly romance which is uninviting. If this be true, I am saved, that is to say, we are saved from the ig nominy of grotesqueness in this romance 135 THE AFTEEGLOW so suddenly cut short, for there was in it no technique whatsoever. Which is to say, he never said anything or did anything or I never said or did anything which to the most fastidious scrutiny could be called romantic in the slightest degree. Am I stripping the tale of any possible interest by this declaration, now at the on set? If so, even so, for I must be truth ful, though I fail of appeal. Is it a slim little story, then meager and of middle-age medium in quality and lukewarm gray in tone and of a minor key? Not on your life ! Behold this Indian peach which I hold in my hand, the autumnal fruitage of the tree s midsummer romance on this sev enth day of October ! Is it mediocre, think you, with its downy cheek of red, its splen dor of form, its affluent personality? I stand at my window, now, and I lay the peach upon a clump of maple leaves beside 136 THE AFTERGLOW a copper bowl in which there glow deep purples, blood-red with sap, in autumn bloom and grape. No, you may not like our romance, but it is no more insipid or colorless than the burnished fruit reflected in this copper. But listen: I shall never forget the first time we met. I doubt whether he remembers, or remem bered, even before he succumbed to that which has eventuated as shown in the mar riage-notice. But I do so well remember. He was one of three men at the dinner who, my friendly hostess forewarned me, were "especially worth while." Yes, I met him at a dinner-party ; I for got to say that. My narrative will prob ably tumble over itself in places as I go along. It is all so fresh three greedy flies still sap the cream from his name. Yes, we met at dinner. Indeed, he took me in, or out, rather, for it was an al fresco affair served in a bower of bloom- 137 THE AFTEEGLOW ing wistaria in a conservatory at Lawrence and the women meant to surprise the men by appearing in Oriental costumes and the men got wind of it and really surprised us by filing in dressed as Chinese man darins. On this very first occasion while he sat beside me, I noticed that his shoulders were no higher than mine. But the thing which I felt on this first day was a sort of preeminence in the man, in spite of his smallness. Gently gray and elderly, he seemed one of those whose waters of life have crystallized at high tide. I cannot tell why, but from the time we sat at table on that first evening to this writing the length of four long seasons I seem never to have been unconscious of this man s existence. He had said very little, all told, and that little was, as he has ever been, distinctly impersonal. With none of the effusiveness of certain mustaches across the table, he was kindly 138 THE AFTERGLOW and clear with the really rare faculty of saying a right thing at a right time. Thoughts and countercurrents, as they passed his way, he handled and tossed along, often enriched, I was pleased to ob serve, and deftly fitted to some one else. I think he liked me from the first. Of course, he never said so. That would have been high sentiment. Indeed, no. But we became friends, without formality or progression. It was as if, when we met, we found that we were friends and went along quietly, accepting each other without question. In a month or two, he had been several times to call had sent me two or three books dined with me and other friends, once and I twice with him and his sister whom he wished "to know me" in their home and once with him without other friends, at a good hotel. You see, we were not young people and so, not hedged in by conventions. Since the first day he came and sat in 139 THE AFTERGLOW my armchair there by the window he has never taken the slightest liberty that would have been unbecoming to that first day. He is always in good taste such a con trast to Volsinger, the Omaha poet, who, because I had been friendly to him and Southly hospitable, calmly walked back and opened my ice-box one evening, in the presence of other guests and proceeded noisily to cut ice for his glass and to pass it around, if you please. My ears burn, now, when I think of it the gawk that he was and is! And yet, God likes him and gives him poems to write, real poems, and who am I to snub him? He may come and open my ice-box again. Indeed, he is far more diverting than the friend I mourn, is Vol singer, the crazy poet. It takes scope to realize him. He keeps one looking up and down down at his execrable manners and up to his inspirational plane. But for a steady diet, day in and day 140 THE AFTEBGLOW out, there s nothing like a quiet gentleman. The sun isn t exciting, in its daily upris ings and goings down but it is good to live along with. Pyrotechnics are for holidays. I am an artist, by profession which is to say, my pictures are for sale and they do sell. He, my friend, buys water-colors buys them generously, but strange I never thought of it before he never seemed to think of buying one of mine. That he respects my art, I feel sure or, no, perhaps I am mistaken. He praises my pictures behind my back, but possibly that which he really admires is only the pluck which makes me do them, for he reveres self-supporting women. Very few of my friends buy my pictures and I m glad of it. It makes one feel shoppy and commercial to sell his wares. And yet now that I think of it, it is queer that he who makes a fetish of color, and whose walls are aflame with it, should 141 THE AFTERGLOW never have tried to possess one of the temperamental studies which have given me what vogue I enjoy. It is curious and in the light of this shutting-off-of- light, I am analytical. And h^ is married! And, while he does not know it, I am a jilted woman. And how badly I am telling the story! And I care so much dear, dear, I care so much! It was this way : You see, such a thing as marriage has never been in the back of my head. There s no man on earth I d But what s the use? He s married now, and certainly marriage for me, after all these years, would be a great mistake. I may not paint great pictures, but, such as they are, they are mine. And I care for them and I like to work any old way, any old time, when the spell is on and to belong, legitimately, to no one but myself and what I have the temerity to call my art. 142 THE AFTEEGLOW Of course, a man is an interference, when you are married to him even if he is a help. And then, there is always the ques tion of one s duty to him I mean there s no question as to one s duty to him, and a division of enthusiasms I What am I saying? I do so helieve in the very thing which I am repudiating, Love and Life expressed to the full, in dividually and jointly with mutual free dom, and all the rest of it. I hate set theories, but I believe a good many of them. Only, for me, it would never do. I am too too temperamental, perhaps. I m too something and I d soon be giv ing up my My art, of course and taking to French house-gowns, and and all that. Not that I despise clothes, as it is. I m not that variety of artist. On the contrary, I en joy dress, but not as a woman of fashion, for, it is so hopelessly bromidic just to follow. 143 THE AFTERGLOW I suppose that, first and last, I am a colorist and I know I am amber-skinned, that my eyes are gray-green and heavily lashed and my hair would have been red if it had n t been castor-colored. (The sun declares it is red, now, but it could never prove it behind its own back.) And so, I wear aqua marines and pale topazes and tourmalines for frivolity and gird my soft Empire gowns with dull gold and confine myself to one quiet tone through out a toilet and I make a point of slip pers and wraps. It is well for a person of wide color-feel ing and narrow purse to be sensitive to the dangers of over dressing. It is so easy to step over the line and to become ultra Bohemic and " queer." I shouldn t so very much mind my friends calling me " picturesque," but I cringe at the chance I d give mine enemies. Think of even the good Bridget s looking after me, her mouth full of pins, after putting the last 144 THE AFTERGLOW topaz into the back of my collar, and fear ing to swallow such words as "holy show!" My main bulwark of strength, my Gibraltar, is soap. Good simple soap, not too highly flavored of money or musk yes, soap and a manicure of restraint. These things and a well-modulated voice not too much thought about the latest pronunciations and Well, just being a lady in the long ago sense of having been born that way. I like the old pronunciations, sometimes. These things are inherited, and perhaps they wear better than some of the newly- learned. My manicure says "don t you?" with minute particularity separating the words. Also, she says "misc/wevious" and suffers from a "bronical cough." But why all this idle talk when nothing matters? 145 THE AFTERGLOW I hardly think so, and yet it would have been largely on his account, my refusal. I d have been afraid of getting on his nerves with my capriciousness and my restless ways. He is restful. But this has never been a question. I never have been never, that is, since my widowhood a marrying woman either in my inner consciousness or in my re lation to society. I hate a widow with a re-marrying attitude. Of course, an occasional man has come along who thought I was the sort of woman to make him happy and has mentioned it to me but every woman has that sort of thing. "We don t think anything of it in the South but New York is different. Every proposal of marriage counts in Gotham. But I suppose I 11 have men say ing things to me until I m ready to die of old age most women have, probably. The only difference, when they are old, is 146 THE AFTERGLOW that the subject is broached in the falsetto voices of either extreme, youth or senility. Few middle-aged men make love to middle- aged women, I find. The aged seek matrimony rather than a special woman and I notice that when an old man asks a woman to marry him and she will not, he very soon finds one who will. Of this I am personally sure- seven times sure. And here I am, generalizing on a theme of which I have not thought seriously for years. My life seemed full and tranquil, until he came into it and now, it is all over the romance which was never be gun. Not that I was a loveless, detached per son before the casual incoming of this man. I am not of the abnormal type which can live and work and sing without love. Ah, no. Far from it! Not only abstract love, but love particular- 147 THE AFTERGLOW ized arms-about-the-neck such love as children throw into a mother s soul when they wrap themselves about her. Love in carnate, personal, prodigal and unreckon- ing such as this has ever been as essential to my being as pure oxygen to my broadly inflating lungs. Yes, and yet I have chosen to live alone, in a garret, prac tically, and here I have labored and slept and worked AND SUNG! And why? "A dog? A cat? A parrot? A monkey?" Perish the thought! No, none of these nor even the more nearly possible canary. No bird or beast or slight intelligence could ever counterfeit love to me or at tempt to satisfy my soul with the limited triumph of the inadequate. Not that I do not love a dog and eschew cats only because they are cats but no lower beast could ever knock at the door of my holy of holies, much less enter in, 148 THE AFTERGLOW by bark or song. The open sesame must be a pass-word from a soul of equal height with mine. The waters must be "even. And so "A memory?" Ah, this has gone far enough and yet why a memory ? One word is enough. Behold the symbols which surround me! A baby s miniature that little clock he made that with his own hands, my hus band. Yes, he was a lawyer, not a clock- smith made it on a bet with me, when he was nineteen. No, it never kept business time, exactly. He called it Cupid s clock, because he said it gave a fellow a chance. It really ran very little and kept stopping. Ah, how frivolous we were and how young! And how happy! The joy of it has sweetened all of life for me yes, I can say that, even to-day, when I am more lonely than I have ever been in all my life before. 149 THE AFTERGLOW What is love individualized? Is it not, after all, a mental concept? The maiden who sits mooning, gazing into the blue, and dreaming dreams of the miracle which she comprehends not at all who shall say that she is loveless? And the wizened old man in the almshouse who traces "her" out line from memory in the light of his charity fire, why is he smiling? He only seems to be alone. He is not, for when the last embers shall have fallen, he will still see her, in his dreams. This is not bare abstraction. It is love personal, incarnate clothed with flesh of dreams," maybe but which is the dream? I cannot tell precisely when I first knew that I cared for this man perhaps not fully until now it seems a century ago when I saw that notice a death notice for me in the marriage column. There are landmarks, though, easily traced, which show me how it has been for a long time. 150 THE AFTERGLOW Vividly do I recall my first semi-awaken ing. We were going up the steps of the Arch itectural League Building one evening, when I tripped on my skirt and had nearly fallen when his hand caught my arm, and a quick, "Oh, my dear!" of alarm, fell upon my ear and into my soul. It was inadvertent, and meant nothing, possibly, excepting that his reserve was one of tenderness to women. I did not think it meant anything. And yet, perhaps because his lips were so near my ear, there was something unspeak ably precious in it. For me it spanned the years and I was a wife again, blessed, clothed with honor, remembered of Heaven. I knew that it was probably reminiscent and irrelevant. And yet, he was never quite the same to me, after that. In an unguarded moment he had called me "my but he said it as only one other 151 THE AFTERGLOW had ever done. From that moment whether I would or no, his presence was ever with me. It was one of the sweetest experiences of my life when I let myself go in resting in the companionship of this man. If I had thought of marriage or of having him a lover declared I should have been as perturbed as a girl, plus the fitting fluster of an elderly person given over to folly. How absurd I should have known myself to be ! But no. My romance was far and away superior to that sort of thing. But why all this? He is married. If I had only known or suspected that he might go ! If only it had occurred to me that he might think of marriage and another woman! Could I have tried to capture him? I do not know. The thing is so much greater than I. Perhaps I could never have manipulated it or him through it. At any rate, I did not try. For me 152 THE AFTERGLOW this sort of thing was long passed and the luxury of Love was a gift of Heaven dropped into my hand. I wanted no re turn in kind. A conventional declaration would have vulgarized my happiness and it would have flown. A pressure of the hand 1 No, I wanted God knows what I wanted. I suppose I was a fool. I wanted to think of him every day, when he came and when he didn t and to believe that, if he should ever forget himself again, he would call me "my dear" but only if he forgot. I used to have a merry little feeling of mischief within me in having a secret from him. That woman she whose name got the edge of my cream this morning has no more soul than a bean arbor. Indeed, that is a most inapt comparison, for, of all vines, the bean is one of the most kindly, the most beneficent, the most generous, 153 THE AFTEEGLOW most prodigal of self and I am sure it has a good womanly soul with a love for chil dren and tendrils of compassionate reaches toward old age. Its great benediction of greenery is not for itself alone but for all who would have grateful shade without stint or meas ure. No, let me drop that comparison, for the vine s sake. The name which grows more distinct as the oil penetrates the paper this name stands for so many respectable things that I prove my hardihood while I hold it up for scrutiny. She was asked to dine at the house in Washington Square where, with a gentle deaf twin sister, also unmarried, he lives in the crystallized elegance of a bygone period. She went she saw and she laid siege to the ear-trumpet! The canny diplomat ! And that evening she began to set the type for this wedding-notice. So she proceeded, with no such handi- 154 THE AFTEEGLOW cap of cardiac disturbance as would have been my undoing, had I even considered so brave a campaign. I should have been un able to avoid his eyes those small, in consequent dear, direct, blue eyes before which I have no reason to quail. They would have overridden me ac cused me. I should have hated myself hated his lovely old house with its queer ungainly furniture which has been my de light even hated him, after a while, maybe hated the whole business and floundered. Or, if I had resolutely undertaken to marry him, willy nilly, I might No, no, no! I could not! I am a woman and well, my sort of woman can J t do the chasing. Much is written these days about the new woman or the new way or new interpretations of the old way. One has told us about superman. Per haps the difference is as between super and sub. 155 THE AFTERGLOW No, my holy passion is of so fine a flame that it will burn as clearly now, being with out dross, as it did that evening when I trod on my skirt and tripped into Heaven. Well, it s the way of the world ! One woman loves a man and another marries him. I say he jilted me and so he did al though he is ethically innocent of the crime. Or I hope he is. If he suspected me then he is guilty but no. He did not suspect. He realized that I had too much sense was too well poised would have been too proud. And I had had my romance. So had he. She died at seventeen when he was twenty. No, I feel that my secret is safe, even in face of the fact that man, generically and specifically, is vainglorious and con ceited. Knowing me as well as he did, he could 156 THE AFTERGLOW not have suspected me. Indeed, knowing myself as well as I do, I am mystified. Why, by all that is sacred, did I en courage this quiet man to come and sit, evening after evening, just filling a chair of course, he could not know that he filled mv iif e when there were a dozen other men, full of jest and sparkle and far more in sympathy with my work, for whom I never could find time! Why, I say, ex cepting because things were as I have con fessed. I feel sure he did not suspect and yet, my secret may have been written all over me, scribbled on my breast. It may have dripped from the fringe of my sleeves enveloped me, as a mist. The tones of my voice were different, in speaking to him. This I knew, but I was fearless as he could not know how I spoke to others. Just the simple love-to- have-him-near and the peace-of-the-long- 157 THE AFTERGLOW evenings when he stayed and talked quietly, of common things just the sweet contentment of it may have found expres sion in my voice and now, I almost hope it did. If this woman really loved him, I should not mind so much; or if he loved her which he does not and never will. She had all she wanted but one thing the prestige of a dignified home, with a man of place at the head of it a better- than-hotel address from which to issue her cards a table-of-hospitality and a ret inue, with horses and motor-cars, of her own. And so, and so ? I don t know anything about it. Maybe it is well with him, after all. What is love, anyway? Is it a mental habit or vibration or a hoodoo or all three and more! Who knows? Who knows anything? Perhaps, after all, "Whatever is, is 158 THE AFTERGLOW right, " as the transgressors claim. And yet For a material consideration, I am robbed of a sweet companionship which can count for nothing to the despoiler of my peace, for she loves a breeze, and he is a quiet man. He is clear of intellect and discerns every shade of difference be tween white and near-white, truth and half- truth while she is dense and correct and strong in faith in the Apostles Creed and the Ten Commandments. And she would consider me wholly dishonored if she knew how I miss, and shall miss her husband. This is all wrong, this wail. Perhaps it is well that he is married and even to her. He is fine and sensitive, tempered as refined steel, and her im perturbable stupidity may be his pillow ing. He will rest in it and when he flies off the handle, as he is bound to do, once 159 THE AFTEEGLOW in a while, and she coddles him blindly, ignoring his real grievance, he will buy an other ring for her fat fingers to make amends for her vacuity although he may not know it. Yes, I can follow them along. But some day, he will wake and see her, as she is mediocre, tiresome, consistent, impos sible bromide of bromides. Then, he will be better to her than ever. But he will spend more time at the club. Always suspect a man when he begins to be "better than ever" to a tiresome woman. He has found a perspective. Of course, I shall see little of them. It is best so although there has never been anything between us. I am better-looking than she and younger and I have more sense, more heart, more style, more temperament. I mean to say I have temperament. She has more money than I but I never cared for money. They were both rich enough before, so, 160 THE AFTERGLOW probably they don t care, either so long as the money is there. I don t care when it isn t there. She had everything but a fixed social place and an establishment. These she wanted and she got them. I loved him, and I wanted nothing and I got it and yet I seem to have a griev ance. To love and to lose is high fate! . . Here I stand talking, and the north light wasting. It must be What is that! The little clock- David s clock striking two, so it must be nearly three, at least. You can always depend upon David s clock for one thing: when it strikes, there s no time to lose. How weird my laughter sounds against your striking, dear little clock dear, crazy little clock ! We are nearer than ever to each other now, little clock, you and I. It seems ages 161 THE AFTEEGLOW ago and the past is with me again. You and the little shoe seem to nestle against my heart to-day Your striking admonishes me that she was coming at three, the old model who is to pose for the long-delayed picture. The afternoon sun is in those nasturtiums now and she will be arriving the pitiful old, old woman who will impersonate ",Woe," and who declares she has had nothing in life but disappointment and want nothing but woe. Never love. And yet, she refused to allow me to un fasten the old locket which she wears about her neck on the faded string with the Agnus Dei not even for a moment that I might examine it. She lies. She is love s wreckage and this is its symbol, this miserable, dirty locket with the cracked enamel. She has exactly what I have only symbols. We are sisters. Ah, me! They are the most enduring possessions, 162 THE AFTEBGLOW after all and the poorer, the more in tangible, the surer. Were she to lose the cherished locket, that which gives it value would still be hers in Memory and with less care to keep. My wee shoe of fading blue How all things seem to pass before me this morning, in the light I mean to say in the shade of this fresh sorrow ! Dear God! And it is true. He is mar ried. If only I had realized that the hours were precious with him and tried And what about my pictures my work the work which has been languishing playing around old stakes instead of going ahead, these last four years? What about consecration and the di vine fire and ? Bless the good God! Who cares about these things when Love comes and it is October and the roses are red with full ness of life and the cider-mills are busy and the hills aflame? Who says I am 163 THE AFTERGLOW alone! Only one symbol poorer am I, now that he is gone. He was but a sym bol. I never loved him. I loved ease and companionship and these he typified. Here she is, now the old model. She always forgets the bell and knocks at the door with her bare knuckles like death. Poor, bereft, lonely human! I must meet her, smiling: "Good afternoon, dear Miss Flannahan! And how are you, this lovely day? Do come and have a cup of tea. I recognized your familiar rap and I lit the flame under the kettle before I let you in. And this cream delight me by taking it. I forgot it this morning. "What s that you say? I forgot it be cause I was so happy ? Well, maybe so. They say we never know when we are happy. To be sure, I ve been pottering 164 THE AFTEBGLOW around, talking to my things and laugh ing ever since I got up. "Sit here, dear Miss Flannahan on the divan where you can t help seeing my nasturtium-box catching fire in the sun and while you take your tea, I 11 go and set the easel in the north window. "Aad- "Oh, dear Miss Flannahan, do smile that way again! I wonder if you could? It is great! Oh, it is magnificent! The nasturtium flames pale before it ! "Oh, Miss Flannahan, I wonder what is happening! Something is being enacted within me, as I stand in this shaft of light it is a miracle. "Do I look strange, I wonder? Is it a transfiguration? Is it inspiration? God has remembered us set us apart given us a commission, you and me. "That wan smile 165 THE AFTEEGLOW "We are to have a great picture! Oh, what it must have cost you and what it is costing me ! "Surrender! That s the word then come peace and the afterglow. Sunset and a red sky. I have changed the name of the picture the great picture which we are to do to gether you and I, with our symbols about us symbols of surrender renunciation. Your smile changed it. "We will call it The Afterglow ! "There will be those who will say that it should have been named * Faith or * Im mortality, or one of a dozen abstractions, but we shall know better, you and I yes, we shall know. It will mean Love buried out of sight but still ours Love which earth cannot take away Love which is imr mortal which is divine. Divinity never was. It is. "The precious baby curl this absurd little clock which he made with his own 166 THE AFTERGLOW hands, my lover and that empty chair, turned as he left it, where a lost comrade sat less than a month ago the locket which you will not let me take from your neck "We may lose them, for they are only symbols of symbols but that which makes them precious it is ours yours and mine. Nothing can rob us of "Forgive me! Do forgive me! I have hurt you I did not mean I was cruel but I won t again, no, not again "But you will smile for me again as you did 1 And oh, what a picture we shall have ! "I want to tell you something, Miss Flannahan. Only those who are permitted to empty the cup of life may taste of im mortality in its dregs before the grave. There is a cup of death, but of this I do not speak. But I won t talk of sorrow any more, dear Miss Flannahan positively not. "Yes, I am a little queer don t try to 167 THE AFTERGLOW understand or to follow. Just know that there is a bond between us the bond of suffering of renunciation. It has left you a smile which will send a gleam of hope down the ages if I, to whom it has left energy and a clearing if I prove fit. "Ah, the clearing! The empty, lonely clearing in which to work! How long I have been playing ! "What is a sunset and a red sky? "The great picture will tell and the people will kneel, and believe ! The great picture! THE AFTERGLOW !" THE END 168 UNIVERSITY OF CALIFORNIA LIBRARY BERKELEY THIS BOOK IS DUE ON THE LAST DATE STAMPED BELOW Books not returned on time are subject to a fine of 50c per volume after the third day overdue, increasing to $1.00 per volume after the sixth day. Books not in demand may be renewed if application is made before expiration of loan period. 23 t*# 50m-7, l( .-,.. 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