LIBRARY 
 
 UNIVERSITY OF 
 DAVIS 
 
>! 
 
 

BY EARTHQUAKE 
 AND FIRE 
 
 or 
 
 THE CHECKERED ROMANCE 
 of TWO GENERATIONS 
 
 BRUNT'S, SAN FRANCISCO 
 MCMXIV 
 
 LIBRARY 
 
 UNIVERSITY OF CAIJFOBNIA 
 
Copyright, 1914 by M. L. Theiss-Whaley. 
 
 THE BRUNT PRESS, SAN FRANCISCO, U. S. A. 
 
TABLE OF CONTENTS 
 
 PART ONE 
 
 Chapter 
 
 I. AN EXTRAORDINARY FRIENDSHIP AND ITS 
 BEGINNINGS HOMEWARD BOUND 
 
 " 'One ought to be able to keep one's friends, like 
 one's wine, any number of years in the cellar, only 
 to find it a little crusted at last but better in flavor 
 than ever.' " 
 
 II. THE JOURNEY CONTINUED THE TRIP TO 
 THE LAKE 
 
 "When Clayton Nichols and Harold Gardiner un 
 expectedly swung aboard of their still moving train 
 as it rolled into the Denver depot, they found a very 
 merry party of travelers to welcome." 
 
 III. THE TRAIL A PROPOSAL 
 
 " 'I know that when love does awaken in your 
 heart that you will be aware of it, and that it cannot 
 help but be for me/ " 
 
 IV. JACK LINDSAY. 
 
 " 'This is my Brother Jack, who has been just 
 dying to meet you.' " 
 
 V. A MORNING GAME 1 
 
 "'Well, 'twas a glorious victory'! declared Jack, 
 coming quickly up the field to shake hands with his 
 opponents." 
 
 VI. GERTRUDE WARFIELD 
 
 "She inspired love as naturally as the thirsting 
 Earth draws to itself showers of refreshment from 
 the moisture-laden clouds." 
 
 VII. A SUSPENSEFUL WEEK AND ITS ENDING 
 
 "'You little witch'! he exclaimed, straining her to 
 his bosom, while he rained kisses upon lip and 
 cheek and brow." 
 
Chapter 
 
 VIII. A WONDERFUL PAINTING 
 
 "But only the proud sister knew * * * that 
 every stroke of the pencil, every touch of the brush, 
 had been an outpouring of undying love." 
 
 IX. THE MAN IN THE MOON 
 
 " 'Did you see that wink'? he asked, with mock 
 seriousness. * * * 'Another Summer troth; 
 by Jingo'!" 
 
 X. RENUNCIATION 
 
 " 'You will not refuse me somewhat of a lover's 
 privilege for this once, I am sure,' he pleaded; im 
 mediately clasping the girl in a fond embrace and 
 tenderly kissing away the tears that blinded her 
 eyes." 
 
 XL DISPELLED MISUNDERSTANDING. 
 
 "'You don't mean to say that you've been loving 
 me ever since then, Will'?" 
 
 XII. Two WEDDINGS 
 
 "Since the world began, the Sun had never shone 
 upon two handsomer or happier brides." 
 
 PART TWO 
 
 I. GOOD FORTUNE AND BAD Two ORPHANS 
 
 "For 'tis the living, not the dead, 
 Who feel Death's biting sting." 
 
 II. GERALD HARDING 
 
 "Too many cooks will spoil the broth; and Gerald 
 had been spoiled; lamentably spoiled." 
 
 III. YOUTHFUL LOVERS 
 
 " 'Why we've always loved each other. At least, 
 I have you; and you have me, too; haven't you, 
 sweetheart'?" 
 
Chapter 
 
 IV. GERALD'S DISTURBING AVOWAL. 
 
 " 'I have to confess to an extravagant fondness 
 for the witching little beauty, myself.' " 
 
 V. A CRUEL PLOT RELUCTANT GOODBYES 
 
 " 'Well, all I can do is to hope for the best; Georgie's 
 good name must be preserved at any cost, if pos 
 sible.' " 
 
 " 'And you won't forget me, dearest'?" 
 
 VI. A TRIP ABROAD LOVE versus DUTY 
 
 "'Then I can't do it, Auntie'! exclaimed the tor 
 tured girl, bursting into tears. 'For just the mere 
 thought of Rob's loving any one else makes me 
 turn O, so sick and faint'!" 
 
 VII. A MARRIAGE AND ITS CONSEQUENCES 
 
 "'No, mother, she has lied to me; played me false; 
 made me forever a laughing-stock among my fel 
 lows; and I want never to hear her hated name 
 again/ " 
 
 VIII. THREE HAPPENINGS 
 
 '"Great Scott, Sis, she's fainted! Let's get her out 
 of here quick'!" 
 
 IX. THE MILLS OF GOD TRANSFERRED AFFEC 
 TIONS -. 
 
 " 'Because judgment against an evil work is not 
 speedily pronounced, therefore the hearts of the 
 sons of men are fully set in them to do evil.' " 
 
 X. ROBERT MANNING'S TRANSGRESSIONS 
 
 "Strength of will in proportion to physical 
 strength seemed strangely so lacking in him at this 
 time, that Ichabod might most fittingly have been 
 inscribed over the gateway to his young manhood." 
 
 XL NON COMPOS MENTIS 
 
 t "For to the dead mind of the living: mother he was 
 
 but as a stranger." 
 
Chapter 
 
 XII. EARTHQUAKE AND FIRE 
 
 "During 1 those more than fifty awful seconds, 
 * * * the astounded man * * * lay limp, mo 
 tionless, breathless; hushed, as it were, by the sense 
 of an awesome Presence, whose commanding: 'Be 
 still! and know that I am God'! he divined rather 
 than heard." 
 
 " 'The city is burning; and there is no water! We 
 are doomed! We are doomed!' they cried, with ashen 
 faces." 
 
 XIII. REFUGEES A VICTIM A CONFESSION 
 
 "So the little family * * * was obliged to join 
 the vast army of refugees * * * and become 
 pensioners of the world's unstinted bounty." 
 
 " 'Both iv 'er legs is bruk, savin' yer prisince 
 and sumthin' inside, too, the docther thinks.' " 
 
 " 'I literally tortured my sweet, young charge into 
 compliance with mV wish.' " 
 
 XIV. MINISTERING ANGELS A BELATED BE 
 
 TROTHAL .. 
 
 " 'As usual he was in with the first load.' " 
 " 'Mrs. Harding came out at the first news of the 
 
 disaster, to look for you and help in the work of 
 
 nursing.' " 
 
 " 'Aren't you very glad to see me, Margaret'?" 
 
 L! envoi SWEET ALICE. 
 
 "When sweet Alice was soon after brought to 
 him there was but little to be said, even had not 
 emotion prevented," 
 
AUTHOR'S NOTE 
 
 The four great essentials of entertain 
 ing fiction, viz. : human interest, unity, 
 action and climax, mark the pages of this 
 book. There are no tedious stretches, 
 descriptions having been reduced to the 
 most condensed form compatible with 
 lucidity and finish, and in order to a 
 clear understanding,' sympathetic appre 
 ciation and intelligent appraisement of 
 its characters and happenings, every word 
 of the story should be attentively read. 
 This favor the author craves of the 
 reader. 
 
BY EARTHQUAKE AND FIRE 
 
 THE CHECKERED ROMANCE of TWO 
 GENERATIONS 
 
 PART ONE 
 
 CHAPTER I. 
 
 AN EXTRAORDINARY FRIENDSHIP AND ITS BEGINNINGS 
 HOMEWARD BOUND. 
 
 " 'One ought to be able to keep one's friends, 
 like one's wine, any number of years in the cellar, 
 only to find it a little crusted at last but better 
 in flavor than ever.' " 
 
 Among the crowd of people thronging the station 
 platform at Poughkeepsie, New York, one late June 
 day in the year eighteen-seventy-eight, (the twenty- 
 third of the month, to be very definite) the central 
 group was made up of ten or a dozen laughing, chat 
 tering girls, with such healthy, happy, intelligent faces 
 and lady-like manners, as to reflect naught but credit 
 upon the alma mater whose senior class pin each of 
 them wore. 
 
 As the last warning note of the conductor's "A-l-1 
 a-b-o-a-r-d" died away, two of the number hastily 
 tore themselves from the reluctant leavetakings of the 
 rest, and joining the station porter who stood awaiting 
 
10 BY EARTHQUAKE AND FIRE 
 
 them, satchels in hand, at a respectful distance, stepped 
 aboard the train and followed him into the particular 
 Pullman in which a drawing-room had been reserved 
 for them. While the taller of the girls took from her 
 purse and handed over the customary tip, the other 
 raised curtain and window ; and as they slowly steamed 
 away, two dainty bits of lace waved a last good-bye 
 to the bevy of sweet girl graduates left behind. 
 
 Following their example, let us also, bid these adieu ; 
 wishing them with all our hearts, bon voyage over 
 life's tempestuous sea, and turn our attention to be 
 coming acquainted with our two fellow travellers; 
 from one of whom, at least, we shall not again part, 
 until we must needs bid her a final farewell; until the 
 Great Reaper shall have thrust in His sickle and 
 gathered her unto His eternal harvest. 
 
 Freshmen at Vassar four years before our story 
 opens, they had registered as Margaret L. Armstrong, 
 Denver, Colorado, and Gertrude C. Warfield, Omaha, 
 Nebraska. Western girls, we see, both of them; and 
 though we had not been told we should have strongly 
 suspected it, for in the bearing of each although in 
 somewhat varying degree was seen that blending of 
 frank, fearless independence with feminine modesty, 
 that lends such a charm and that we of the East seldom 
 fail to recognize and admire in every well born daugh 
 ter of the West. 
 
 Nearly of an age, but a few months out of their 
 teens, and becomingly dressed in the prevailing mode 
 
AN EXTRAORDINARY FRIENDSHIP 11 
 
 in rich though quiet costumes, they would have 
 attracted more than a passing glance anywhere, for 
 unusually handsome girls both were, though of the 
 most pronounced contrast in type. 
 
 Descended upon her mother's side from high bred 
 colonial dames, in Margaret Armstrong's veins there 
 ran also a strain of Irish blood, whose purity was at 
 least partially responsible, no doubt, for her very dig 
 nified, almost proud carriage, the richness of her com 
 plexion, her full, clear, dark blue eyes, shaded by long 
 and heavy silken lashes so dark as to make one in 
 doubt, oftentimes, as to whether the eyes which they 
 veiled were not after all black rather than blue, features 
 good and sufficiently delicate, the mouth alone being a 
 trifle large for perfect symmetry, perhaps, but with 
 rosy lips parting in such a winning smile and revealing 
 a set of such perfect teeth, that one felt as though 
 Nature would have made a grave mistake had she 
 concealed any more of them from view. An abund 
 ance of glossy, dark brown hair, rippling in loose 
 waves about a broad, intellectual forehead, completed 
 a picture good indeed to look upon; and being some 
 what taller than the average, well developed and beau 
 tiful of form, the girl's appearance was certainly such 
 as our French cousins designate, distingue. 
 
 Her companion of medium height and slight 
 though pleasingly rounded figure was the very em 
 bodiment of grace and daintiness. Softly curling 
 golden hair here framed a face of rare loveliness of 
 
12 BY EARTHQUAKE AND FIRE 
 
 expression, with features patrician in their modelling, 
 and whose unblemished complexion was the pink and 
 white velvet of the perfect blonde. Back of the coral 
 lips of a sensitive, little mouth which seemed as 
 though made only to be kissed, gleamed even, pearly 
 teeth, while the nose above, with its little more than 
 shadowy suggestion of tilt, lent a ravishing air of co 
 quetry to her otherwise most demure face. The ears 
 were perfectly shaped and dainty as sea shells. The 
 eyes large, wistful, expressive, dark with their deli 
 cately arched brows and snowy curtains fringed with 
 golden brown, reminded one of an April day with its 
 alternate sunshine and shadow; being veritable win 
 dows of the soul; involuntarily dancing with joy at the 
 pleasures, or melting in sympathy for the sorrows of 
 those around her. In fact, if one wished to make 
 special mention of the most beautiful feature of this 
 wondrously beautiful face, it would be of the eyes, 
 which were a true index to her very lovable and loving 
 nature. If any more evidence were needed, a small, 
 well shaped, well poised head and an aristocratic man 
 ner, told of the gentle Southern ancestry whence she 
 had sprung, and through whom had descended to her 
 not alone her rare personal beauty and charm, but 
 also those exquisite graces of heart and mind with 
 which she was most lavishly endowed. 
 
 Now these two young girls our heroines the one 
 an idolized only child of a widowed mother of culture 
 and means, the other completely orphaned, heiress to 
 
AN EXTRAORDINARY FRIENDSHIP 13 
 
 a modest fortune and pitifully alone in the world, 
 arriving at their chosen college simultaneously and 
 being mutually drawn to each other at their first meet 
 ing, had elected to share a suite parlour and bed 
 rooms in one of the residence halls upon the campus. 
 Which arrangement continuing throughout the course 
 had proven a blessing to both, since their com 
 bined natures, diverse, yet thoroughly congenial, 
 formed a most harmonious whole ; and the mutual con- 
 siderateness shown during the early days of that un 
 broken and most intimate companionship, laid the 
 foundation for the extraordinarily deep and lasting 
 friendship which grew up between the two. 
 
 Vassar was at that time as it still is, one of our very 
 best American schools for girls ; its aim being to train 
 and develop the physical, mental, moral and spiritual 
 natures of its pupils in equal proportion, and thus to 
 turn them out with well rounded characters. Their 
 health was most carefully looked after in every respect, 
 the particular kind of physical training being called for 
 in each case being ordered and a certain amount of in 
 vigorating exercise required daily. Ample croquet 
 grounds and a beautiful, gracefully willow-fringed 
 lake, upon which to boat in Summer and skate in Win 
 ter, provided abundance of outdoor sport, while for 
 indoors there was a well equipped gymnasium and a 
 bowling alley. The several hundred acres of carefully 
 laid out and beautifully kept grounds, the velvety 
 lawns, the shady walks and nooks, the commodious 
 
14 BY EARTHQUAKE AND FIRE 
 
 and artistic buildings, all combined to make it a very 
 attractive place. 
 
 In the cultivation of pronounced talents, during their 
 junior and senior years, Margaret had taken vocal 
 music, Gertrude painting, as their extra studies, other 
 wise their tasks had been the same; and although it 
 had required hard work to keep up with the very high 
 standards of the college and discipline had been strict, 
 yet a sufficient amount of relaxation and pleasure had 
 been found in the social life among the students. The 
 several special "Days," with their entertainments and 
 functions, attendance upon the meetings of one or 
 more of the various clubs literary, scientific or social 
 the time spent in chapel, library, museum, labora 
 tories, conservatory, art gallery, etc., had filled all the 
 leisure moments and made the time pass quickly, even 
 enjoyably; and now, when we meet our young friends 
 for the first time, 
 Schooldays are passed, their onerous tasks completed; 
 
 Schoolbooks discarded with reliev-ed sighs. 
 Life's whirling register now waits their signing; 
 
 Eagerly they enroll to struggle for the prize. 
 For ready, they are now anxious to enter this larger 
 school ; whose list of needed supplies calls for only an 
 account book, and where there is but one teacher, 
 Experience. They have mastered all of the common 
 and many of the higher branches of learning ; can con 
 verse fluently and intelligently in more than their 
 mother tongue, about Art and Science and Literature ; 
 
AN EXTRAORDINARY FRIENDSHIP 15 
 
 can draw and paint, compose and sing, and have their 
 pretty heads full of isms and ologies and osophies. 
 With the splendid assurance and confidence of youth, 
 they feel themselves well able to grapple with all its 
 most abstruse problems. Yet their hard earned diplo 
 mas entitle them to entrance only into the Kinder 
 garten of this school. Deal gently with them, O, stern 
 teacher ! Make not their tasks too hard, or the punish 
 ment for possible mistakes too severe. When they 
 leave thy walls for the Great University beyond, may 
 it be with as good reports as Vassar sends them to 
 thee; and may the harder and deeper lessons which 
 thou hast taught them, have left their faces no less 
 peaceful, aye, smiling, than we see them today. 
 
 During these student days, Gertrude had spent all 
 her vacations, Summer and Winter, with Margaret. 
 Mrs. Armstrong had been a real mother to the parent- 
 less girl, and she had long since accepted her invita 
 tion to reside with them after graduation; the two 
 were now therefore en route for Denver and home, 
 where a loving welcome awaited them both. 
 
 The day was warm even for the month ; so after the 
 manner of experienced travellers, they proceeded to 
 make themselves as comfortable as possible for the 
 long ride before them. Mentally tired from the strain 
 of the closing examinations and the excitement of 
 Commencement week, they were not in their usual 
 chatty mood, so were soon buried in magazine and 
 book. 
 
16 BY EARTHQUAKE AND FIRE 
 
 At length, Gertrude, with a half suppressed sigh, 
 laid hers aside, and turning to the open window sat 
 for a long time looking out upon the constantly chang 
 ing landscape, apparently lost in deepest meditation; 
 but when Margaret, some later, turned to address a 
 question to her, she was amazed to see one tear and 
 then another roll slowly down the face of her com 
 panion. 
 
 "What! Little Sunbeam in tears?" burst out 
 the girl in anxious wonderment using the pet name 
 her sunny disposition had gained for Gertrude at 
 college "Why, what's the matter, girlie? Are you 
 sick? Aren't you glad we're going home?" she ques 
 tioned hurriedly. And without waiting for a reply, 
 leaned over, and slipping an arm tenderly about the 
 neck of her vis-a-vis, drew the troubled face nearer 
 and affectionately kissed her. 
 
 "Don't, Margaret"; pleaded the other gently, with 
 an unsuccessful attempt at a smile. "Leave me to my 
 self for a while, please; I'll be all right again soon." 
 And pressing her friend's hand gratefully, the girl 
 drew back and once more fixed her gaze upon the 
 swiftly passing scenery. 
 
 A few moments during which the puzzled Marga 
 ret tried vainly to account to herself for this most un 
 common exhibition upon her friend's part and she 
 had recovered herself; and turning to her companion 
 a tear-stained but triumphant face said: "Margaret, 
 dear, I'm really ashamed to tell you of the selfish 
 
AN EXTRAORDINARY FRIENDSHIP 17 
 
 thoughts that caused those recent tears, although I 
 know they are forgiven even before confessed." 
 
 "Whatever they were, Gertie, you may be sure of 
 that, and I cannot yet believe that they would answer 
 to any one's description of selfish but your own, usual, 
 exaggerated one ; so 'fess up' and relieve me." 
 
 "I've never had any one but you to love, Margaret," 
 now began the affectionate girl in a lowered tone, 
 while taking her friend's hand lovingly between her 
 own, "and you know how I worship you; and having 
 had you all to myself for so long, it has been making 
 me very unhappy to think of giving you up to, or even 
 sharing you with, Aunt Nellie, Mrs. Armstrong as 
 I shall have to do hereafter. But please don't tell her 
 that I've ever harbored such horribly selfish, ungrate 
 ful thoughts. I wouldn't have her know it for worlds 
 after all her many loving kindnesses to me; and be 
 sides, they're dead now, and will never come forth to 
 haunt or trouble us again ; not even their ghosts. But 
 O, Margaret," she concluded, with an irrepressible 
 sadness, "you can have no idea how desolate a girl 
 feels, when she remembers now and again that she 
 belongs to nobody, and nobody belongs to her." 
 
 "I presume not, Gertie," admitted the other, "and 
 it's all the harder for me to understand your feeling 
 that way, because Mamma and I have both loved you 
 so dearly and for so long that we feel as though you 
 belonged to us, and hoped you felt the same. I know 
 Mamma thinks as much of you as she does of me, for 
 
13 BY EARTHQUAKE AND FIRE 
 
 she does occasionally hold you up to me as an example, 
 though I doubt if she has ever flattered me that much 
 to you." She smiled, continuing, "In all her plans for 
 me you are equally included. The coming out Tea this 
 Fall and the trip abroad later, are as much for your 
 benefit and pleasure as mine, you know that; while as 
 for not 'belonging' to any one," she finished signifi 
 cantly, "I'm afraid it may not be very long before you 
 allow a certain young man of our acquaintance to per 
 suade you to give yourself to him; and then where will 
 / come in ?" 
 
 "There isn't the least danger of anything like that, 
 Margaret," put in the other quickly, though with a 
 sudden deep flush. "Of course" she went on, seri 
 ously, "I shall never marry any one with whom I am 
 not desperately in love; but that will be an entirely 
 different sentiment, and you will always be my very 
 dearest friend. Even though life should some day 
 separate us which I pray it never may no one could 
 ever take your place, dear, or come between us. As 
 Ruskin has put it you remember, One ought to be 
 able to keep one's friends like one's wine, any number 
 of years in the cellar, only to find it a little crusted 
 at last but better in flavor than ever, so our friendship 
 cannot help but grow sweeter and deeper." 
 
 "There's no question about that, dearie, so now 
 cheer up and let's talk about the jolly Summer that's 
 before us," rejoined Margaret, gaily. "I'm so glad 
 that Mamma decided to re-open our home at the Lake, 
 
AN EXTRAORDINARY FRIENDSHIP 19 
 
 this season. It's the grandest place, Gertie; you'll go 
 just simply wild over the gorgeous scenery, and want 
 to spend all your time sketching I'm afraid. Papa 
 really discovered the spot and when I was a child we 
 were about the only ones who went there; but gradu 
 ally other families of our set have put up cottages, 
 until this Summer there'll be quite a little colony of us. 
 Papa loved the place so that of course Mamma would 
 rather have spent every Summer there; but she is 
 always so self-sacrificing you know, that for the last 
 few years, since I have been at college, in fact, we 
 have not been up, for she has felt that it would be too 
 lonesome for you and me, perhaps, and beside, at our 
 age we ought not to be deprived of the practical social 
 education of the watering places; hence the delightful 
 seasons we have had at Lake George, Long Branch 
 and Saratoga. Which one do you think you really 
 enjoyed the most, Gertie?" she queried in conclusion. 
 
 "They were each so delightful, Margaret," replied 
 the other heartily now in full rapport with her 
 friend's happy mood "that it would be very hard to 
 choose between them; still, I think the Long Branch 
 and Centennial season pleased me a little the most. 1 
 enjoyed the Fair immensely, and then when we got to 
 the ocean my first experience, you know the surf 
 was simply glorious. We got to be pretty good 
 swimmers, too, before we left, didn't we?" 
 
 "That's what we did, thanks to Mr. Nichols' help 
 and instructions," assented the other. "And how 
 
20 BY EARTHQUAKE AND FIRE 
 
 stunning we must have looked in those exquisite 
 bathing suits, Gertie ! And what a lot of other pretty 
 clothes we had beside"; she went on, with a pleased, 
 proud smile of recollection; "do you remember? 
 That's one thing we haven't got to bother very much 
 about this Summer, though, for at the Lake we shall 
 practically live in our mountain suits, as we're going 
 to do a good deal of semi-camping out ; to rest up our 
 nerves, as Mamma puts it, and fortify us for our first 
 Winter in Society. But isn't that the last call for 
 dinner?" she finished abruptly. "We'd better spruce 
 up a bit and hurry in, or we shall be too late." And 
 suiting the action to the word, the twain were soon 
 giving their orders in the dining car. 
 
 "Through?" asked Gertie, as the other moved back 
 her finger-bowl, at the close of the leisurely meal. 
 Then rising, led the way back into the sleeper, where 
 they settled themselves for a second perusal of Mrs. 
 Armstrong's last letter, which, delayed in transit, had 
 not been received until that very day just before the 
 hour of their starting; hence hastily read. As their 
 affairs are now becoming public property, we shall 
 surely be pardoned for looking over and reading with 
 them the following motherly effusion: 
 
 "Denver, Colo., June I5th. 
 My dear, dear daughter: 
 
 Words cannot convey to you any idea of the depth 
 of my disappointment at not being able to be with 
 you for Commencement, for I have been looking so 
 
AN EXTRAORDINARY FRIENDSHIP 21 
 
 joyously forward to that proud day all these lonely 
 years that you have been away from me of course I 
 should have been very proud of you and up to nearly 
 the last I fondly hoped to be able to go. But my 
 strength doesn't come, somehow, and the doctor would 
 not give his consent ; so I decided it would be the part 
 of greater wisdom to bow to his will. Since my 
 severe illness of the late Winter I haven't been my old 
 self at all, although I have written you but little in 
 reference to it. But I am hoping for great things from 
 my Summer out of doors in the mountains. At the 
 place I love best of all on earth and blessed with my 
 dear child again with me, I believe that I shall be com 
 pletely renovated. I must get well and strong by 
 Fall, you know, for there's so much before us. 
 
 Will was as much disappointed as I at not being 
 able to go on, but business called him to Chicago last 
 night and will detain him until the twenty-fourth, so 
 that he will only just be nicely through when you 
 reach there. I am so rejoiced that you will then have 
 our friend Mrs. Nichols and he with you for the rest 
 of the way, for it would be a lonely and tedious trip 
 for you and Gertie otherwise. It is hard for me to 
 reconcile myself to the idea of you taking any part of 
 it unescorted, but you have both had so much experi 
 ence in traveling that I shall try not to worry. 
 
 I want that we should start for the Lake within a 
 couple of days after you arrive, if possible. The 
 Clarks, Chapins, Elliotts, Maynards, Somervilles, Har- 
 
22 BY EARTHQUAKE AND FIRE 
 
 risons and Lindsays have already gone up and arc 
 entertaining large house parties. The other fami 
 lies will all open their homes within the next week, 
 so you see there will be a numerous and congenial lot 
 of young people around all the time, and I hope you 
 will both enjoy the season as much as those spent at 
 the large resorts. You know I live only for your 
 happiness. 
 
 Tom and Winnie have been up for two weeks get 
 ting the cottage ready for occupancy once more ; they 
 returned last evening and tomorrow start back with 
 the last load of furnishings. Winnie says : "Shure it's 
 jist loike Hiven up there now, Mrs. Armsthrong, an' 
 it '11 be a doin' yer that much good that yer'll be 
 comin' back lukin' as rosy as the dawn an' tin years 
 younger. But it's a sharp eye yer must be a kapin' 
 on Miss Margaret an' Miss Gertie, fer there do be a 
 power o' foine young men up there, but niver a gur'l 
 did I see as cud tich aither o' thim fer sthyle an' beauty ; 
 an' it's that same I was afther tellin' Misther Nichols 
 'imsilf . O, but 'es the thrue gintleman, God bless 'im ! 
 Didn't 'e take Tom down inter 'is mine whin 'e wint up 
 ter give 'im yer letther, an' showed 'im all the sthones 
 full o' goold, an' give 'im wan ter bring, home ter me? 
 It's a foine new shkiff 'e's got locked up in 'is boat- 
 house; 'im a callin' it the Gertie, an' waitin' ter give 
 'is sisther-in-law frum Shecargo the furst ride in it. 
 Leastways, that's what 'e was afther tellin' Tom ; shure 
 'e wudn't expect me ter belave it." 
 
AN EXTRAORDINARY FRIENDSHIP 23 
 
 "What are you blushing so for, Gertie"? asked the 
 other, looking laughingly up. 
 
 "I'm not blushing, you tease !" affirmed the accused 
 one, boldly, despite an uncontrollable rising of color; 
 then "please go on," she coaxed. And thus urged, 
 the reader continued : "I shall not have Winnie come 
 down again, but To'm will be back to take Mrs. Gardi 
 ner and me up in the carriage. The Rector and Harold 
 take their horses of course, and will ride with you 
 girls, Mrs. Nichols and Clayton. Peter will take 
 Cecile, Norah, Mary and Mrs. Gardiner's maid in the 
 carryall, and their the Gardiner's man will follow 
 with the camp luggage and provisions in a big moun 
 tain wagon. We are all expecting to enjoy the trip up 
 very much, making it leisurely so as not to be too 
 fatigueing; I think we shall be about two weeks on 
 the road. 
 
 "Will cannot get away for a week or two later, 
 probably, but has planned to take a good long vacation 
 when he does come, the first in several years and I 
 hope he can then be with us for the rest of the season. 
 
 "Jacquard has just sent your mountain suits home; 
 they are very jaunty affairs, sure to be becoming to 
 you both. He goes abroad in July, and we must find 
 time before we leave to give him instructions as to 
 some of our Fall outfits; he returns in plenty of time 
 for your Tea. 
 
 "But I must close. Goodbye for the last time, my 
 dear child. I am counting the days it will soon be 
 
24 BY EARTHQUAKE AND FIRE 
 
 the hours until I can again fold you to my heart ; and 
 I shall be happy indeed when I am once more per 
 mitted to do that for the years have been O, so lonely 
 without you, Margaret and to welcome Gertie to our 
 little family circle; she knows well how deeply I love 
 her. 
 
 "Once more, au revoir. That God will have you in 
 His care and keeping and bring you safe home, will 
 be the constant prayer of 
 
 Your loving Mother," 
 
 There was a suspicious moisture in Margaret Arm 
 strong's eyes as she folded this precious missive and 
 said to her friend : "I'm dreadfully worried about 
 Mamma, Gertie, for she must be poorly indeed not to 
 have come on this Summer. Winnie's remark shows 
 that she must even be looking very badly ; she watches 
 Mamma's health with the eyes of love, for she really 
 has a very deep affection for her. You know she has 
 been our laundress ever since Mamma was married, 
 and considers herself a part of the family, although 
 never presuming. She had been a most faithful ser 
 vant, and when she and Tom were married he has 
 been coachman since I was quite a little tot Mamma- 
 gave them two weeks of vacation ; and O, how proud 
 it did make poor Winnie to be able to go off on a 
 'toor' like other folks. She positively worships Mam 
 ma; in fact, all our servants do, for she makes the 
 Golden Rule her guide in her treatment of them, just 
 as she does in all the other relationships of life. Her 
 
AN EXTRAORDINARY FRIENDSHIP 25 
 
 religion is so real; showing her faith by her works, 
 daily; her purse is always open to the needy, every 
 case of suffering or sorrow that she hears of appealing 
 to her instantly. Papa was the same, and their life 
 together was simply beautiful; I know if it had not 
 been for my need of her, that Mamma would not have 
 cared to nor have felt equal to the effort of living, 
 after he was gone." 
 
 "She certainly is one of Nature's noble-women," 
 returned the other warmly, "and we must be very 
 watchful that she has no needless anxieties upon our 
 accounts now ; also that she doesn't over-do this Sum 
 mer." Then concluded encouragingly: "She'll be so 
 happy hereafter, dear, that it will surely help her to 
 get well." 
 
 "God grant it!" murmured the anxious daughter in 
 a subdued whisper, and then lapsed into silence; her 
 prayer, for such it most truly was, wafted to Heaven 
 on the soft evening breeze; her thoughts, no doubt, 
 hastening on the fleet wings of love to the far distant 
 parent. An hour later the familiar: "Shall I make up 
 your berths, Miss ?" aroused her from her reverie, and 
 it was yet early when they had settled down for the 
 night. 
 
 Now, it being the wish and purpose of the author 
 that the characters of this story be known to the reader 
 not merely by suggestion, but by intimate acquaintance 
 as it were, while we leave our young heroines to 
 wander with the sweet Spirit of Sleep through Dream- 
 
26 BY EARTHQUAKE AND FIRE 
 
 land's fanciful realm, let us, through as brief intro 
 ductions as may suffice, become acquainted with the 
 three personages of Mrs. Armstrong's letter who must 
 first be met with on the morrow : 'Mrs. Nichols,' 
 'Clayton' and 'Will.' And first, of course, the lady. 
 
 Mrs. George Benedict Nichols of Chicago who 
 journeys with us from this point of our story to its 
 close, and whose recorded sayings and doings must 
 therefore be either enjoyed or tolerated was a petite 
 brunette of the most pronounced type ; stylish, extrava 
 gant, self-willed yet warm-hearted, irrepressibly good- 
 humored, jolly and vivacious of disposition, an incorri 
 gible flirt for the pure fun of the thing before her 
 marriage, but who for upwards of three years ante 
 dating this period, had been the devoted young wife 
 she was now but two and twenty of a man much 
 more than twice her years. Nothing but the at 
 traction of opposites could possibly have drawn this 
 pair together, since they were as far apart as the poles, 
 in every characteristic; he was a big, handsome man 
 and blonde, very serious minded, quiet and wedded to 
 business. Yet it had been a true love match upon 
 both sides, and Alice Adams about whom envious, 
 managing mammas had said many unkind, spiteful 
 things, when her unexpected engagement to the good 
 catch whom they had long vainly angled for, was an 
 nounced fairly worshipped the indulgent, apprecia 
 tive husband whose wife she was most proud to be. 
 
 Now, this man of years and affairs who would not 
 
AN EXTRAORDINARY FRIENDSHIP 
 
 be hooked against his will had unselfishly refrained 
 from marrying younger, that he might give his undi 
 vided love and care and effort to the interests of the 
 little brother fifteen years his junior, whose upbring 
 ing it had fallen to his lot to shoulder at the age of 
 twenty ; and not alone the upbringing of the child, but 
 the winning of a competence if possible for them both 
 from the small patrimony bequeathed them by their 
 parents, by the time the younger should have reached 
 the age of twenty-five; at which time, so it was or 
 dered, division was to be made, two to one in favor of 
 the elder. So abundantly had diligence and foresight 
 been rewarded, that at the stipulated time, Clayton 
 Nichols, an earnest, manly, fine looking fellow, well 
 educated, with refined tastes and correct habits and 
 happily in no wise lacking in gratitude to the brother 
 who, both morally and materially, had so faithfully dis 
 charged his responsibility to him, came into possession 
 of a comfortable little fortune, while the elder was 
 rightly considered a moderately rich man ; this compe 
 tence having all been made in grain ; a brokerage busi 
 ness, with occasional cautious speculating in the com 
 modity, and with the resultant profits intelligently re 
 invested in Chicago real estate. 
 
 This comfortable condition of life having been at 
 tained, George Nichols married in the Fall of seventy- 
 five, and immediately went abroad with his bride, re 
 turning the following Summer and together with the 
 brother, Clayton, taking in our first world's fair, the 
 
28 BY EARTHQUAKE AND FIRE 
 
 Centennial Exposition. It was while in Philadelphia 
 for this purpose that the trio had first met Mrs. Arm 
 strong and our girls, also bent upon the same errand. 
 Now the fact of Mr. Armstrong and Mr. Nichols 
 having had some business acquaintance during the life 
 time of the former, soon developing, proved at once 
 a bond between them ; and being a most congenial 
 company from the start, it had been a mutual pleasure 
 to find that Long Branch was their ultimate destina 
 tion for the Summer, and as they were to put up at the 
 same hotel, Mrs. Armstrong who found no enjoy 
 ment in the gay scenes around her had been well 
 content to accept of the many offers of chaperonage 
 for her young charges made by Mrs. Nichols. Accord 
 ingly, that vivacious little lady, the girls and Clayton 
 Nichols, were very often to be found together, plung 
 ing and struggling in the waves, strolling idly along or 
 lolling upon the glistening beach, in lively competition 
 for honors in the bowling alley, waltzing away an ex 
 citing evening in the gay ballroom, or off on one or 
 other of the various pleasurable jaunts with which the 
 happy hours were whiled away; and it was to this 
 season that Gertrude Warfield, it will be remembered, 
 had referred as the one that 'pleased me a little the 
 most/ How could it have been otherwise than a de 
 lightful season to the sweet and lonely young girl, 
 when unmistakable and constant evidences of the deep 
 est admiration of her upon the part of their gallant 
 attendant, were so patent to all the rest of the party. 
 
AN EXTRAORDINARY FRIENDSHIP 29 
 
 For both girls, however, September and a return to 
 school came all too soon, although they had before 
 them the prospect of again meeting with their agree 
 able new friends a few months later ; Mrs. Armstrong 
 having been prevailed upon to accept an invitation for 
 the Christmas holidays for them and herself to the 
 Nichols' home, Chicago. Here, we pause to state, they 
 were most sumptuously entertained, and Mrs. Arm 
 strong returning the courtesy the following year, the 
 little party had therefore passed several very satisfac 
 tory and happy periods together before our acquaint 
 ance with them through this narrative. It was while 
 upon this Denver visit of the previous year that George 
 Nichols, to the delight of them all, had decided to 
 build a Summer home upon the shores of beautiful 
 Lake Sylvanus where was situated that of the Arm 
 strongs and but little more than a mile from the 
 'Alice' mine, in which the brothers were largely 
 interested. 
 
 An engineer by profession, Clayton Nichols, in the 
 Spring of '78, had taken charge of this property to 
 superintend its greater development. He was there 
 fore in close proximity to the new mountain home at 
 the Lake; and the name given to his new 'shkifF 
 as quoted in Mrs. Armstrong's letter showed that 
 though out of sight, a certain much admired school 
 girl of his acquaintance had been by no means, out 
 of mind. 
 
 Lastly, the 'Will' so familiarly referred to in the 
 
30 BY EARTHQUAKE AND FIRE 
 
 foregoing epistle, was Willard Manning ; at the time a 
 prominent young Denver bachelor aged thirty-two, and 
 the very capable cashier of the Armstrong-Sherwood 
 Banking Company. He had come to its employ in a 
 minor position some fourteen years before, during the 
 late Mr. Armstrong's presidency, and being a distant 
 family connection by marriage and stranger in the 
 western city, had been asked into the home of his 
 employer. This was about the time its daughter 
 twelve years his junior was emerging from the nur 
 sery ; and the child had grown up regarding him much 
 as an indulgent elder brother, who brought her can 
 dies, let her beat him at dominoes, and was always on 
 hand to act as master of ceremonies at her little parties. 
 Now Margaret Manning was one who grew and 
 developed slowly ; so that up to the time of her leaving 
 home for college she had been to the young man but 
 a nice, interesting little girl. At that age she gave 
 scant promise of becoming the handsome, queenly 
 miss described in this opening chapter. In fact, it was 
 not until Margaret had about completed her eighteenth 
 year that there was any very noticeable change in her 
 appearance ; then, all at once, she had seemed to burst 
 from insignificant bud to full blown, gorgeous flower. 
 Her Summer vacations had all been spent at Eastern 
 resorts, as the reader already knows, the Winter ones 
 either in New York or Chicago ; all excepting the last, 
 when she had come home accompanied by her chum 
 and friends; hence, the young man had not seen the 
 
AN EXTRAORDINARY FRIENDSHIP 31 
 
 girl in all those determining years, and was wholly 
 unprepared for the changes they had wrought. For 
 while with a cultured mother's loving pride Mrs. 
 Armstrong had dilated to some extent upon her daugh 
 ter's treasures of heart and mind, so that of these he 
 was reasonably well aware, of her physical charms she 
 had said but little; and Willard , Manning's surprise, 
 therefore, upon meeting with her again was only ex 
 ceeded by his so glaringly evident admiration, that 
 their guest at the time, Mrs. Nichols, who possessed an 
 ungovernable penchant for matchmaking she had 
 mated Gertrude Warfield and her brother-in-law at 
 their very first meeting seeming to see in it another 
 matrimonial possibility, had gleefully diagnosed his 
 case to her husband as incurably smitten. 
 
 But the stay at home was short, barely one week, 
 and the general entertaining to be done had afforded 
 no opportunity for the paying of any marked attention 
 to the girl, even had not the unfinished education have 
 forbidden. On the evening after her departure, how 
 ever, the enamored young man with his natural 
 directness had informed the mother of his love for 
 her daughter and asked permission to pay his ad 
 dresses when she next returned. To his gratification 
 this was given unhesitatingly; for truth to tell, Mrs. 
 Armstrong had not been displeased at his apparent in 
 terest in her child. 
 
 "It is my wish and hope that Margaret shall be dis 
 posed to marry young, Willard," was her frank avowal, 
 
32 BY EARTHQUAKE AND FIRE 
 
 "for I know that my days are numbered, and when the 
 imperative summons shall come, it will materially 
 lessen the pain of leaving her if I have already seen her 
 happily settled in life. From my long and intimate 
 knowledge of your character and worth, I should feel 
 that her happiness would be safe in your keeping," she 
 went on with very flattering frankness, "and you there 
 fore not only have my permission to press your suit, 
 but my hearty good wishes for success as well. Al 
 though I shall neither say or do anything to influence 
 Margaret's choice ; for it is a matter which vitally con 
 cerns her alone, and no faintest wish of mine shall 
 sway her ; but I hope you will win her. 
 
 "It is certainly more than gratifying to learn of the 
 high esteem in which you hold me, Mrs. Armstrong/' 
 replied the would-be son-in-law appreciatively, "and I 
 thank you sincerely for so candid an expression ; for I 
 feel it to be the very greatest compliment that could be 
 paid a man. Now that I have your consent I feel that 
 Margaret is already mine, and believe me, it shall be 
 the purpose and endeavor of my life to justify your 
 great confidence in me," he concluded, with character 
 istic earnestness and sincerity. 
 
 "Margaret has of course met but comparatively few 
 gentlemen as yet, Willard," resumed the mother after 
 a slight pause. "I do not think her affections are cen 
 tered in any one else, although Harold Gardiner has 
 been wonderfully fond of her always ; and when they 
 met last Winter for the first time in several years, I 
 
AN EXTRAORDINARY FRIENDSHIP 33 
 
 could plainly see that the old fondness had by no means 
 died out. Now Margaret may care for him ; I do not 
 know as to that. He's a splendid fellow and his family 
 of course, all that could be desired. Still he would 
 not be my choice for her, for although there is several 
 years difference in their ages, Margaret is such an un 
 commonly womanly girl as to seem considerably the 
 older of the two; and I do not think she could ever 
 look up to him to the extent / consider a woman wishes 
 and ought, to her husband, for their greatest happi 
 ness. However, they will be much together this Sum 
 mer, and I fancy it will soon be apparent what their 
 feelings to each other now are. In fact, Mrs. Gardiner 
 has hinted to me that Harold will be a suitor." 
 
 Unpleasantly surprised at this last statement, the 
 aspiring lover at hand made no immediate move to 
 reply; so his companion went on: "I feel equally 
 anxious as to Gertie's future, for she could not be 
 dearer to me were she and Margaret sisters. A girl 
 so extremely beautiful both in looks and character, 
 having her accomplishments and independent means, 
 will undoubtedly be much sought after. She is so 
 essentially loving in nature, too, that I imagine she 
 will be inclined to marry soon ; especially as not having 
 the same force and independence in her makeup as 
 our Margaret, she really needs some one to lean upon 
 and cling to. She is also generous to an extreme de 
 gree, and to the man whom she loved she would give 
 her all ; which makes it so important that he be worthy 
 
34 BY EARTHQUAKE AND FIRE 
 
 of her. In that case Gertie will be one of the most 
 radiantly happy women on earth ; living in and for her 
 husband. But should she make an unfortunate mar 
 riage she would be crushed, heart-broken; and I be 
 lieve God would show scant mercy to the ingrate who 
 should be responsible for the wreck of so lovely a 
 being." 
 
 "She certainly is a very sweet and charming girl," 
 asserted her listener heartily. "Clayton Nichols thinks 
 a heap of her, doesn't he?" 
 
 "O, yes; that's very evident," laughed Mrs. Arm 
 strong. Adding: "And I think she does of him, too. 
 I sincerely hope so, for in that case I should feel no 
 further anxiety. There isn't a finer young man than 
 he living, and Gertie and he would make a perfectly 
 ideal couple. Margaret and she are so utterly wrapped 
 up in each other that I hope they may never be sepa 
 rated, even in their married life," she finished. 
 
 From that time Margaret, naturally, had been a 
 constant topic of conversation between these two, and 
 the being with her upon her graduation day the pleas 
 ure to which both had looked joyfully forward; though 
 of the disappointment to their hopes in this respect, 
 we have already learned by letter. 
 
CHAPTER II. 
 
 THE JOURNEY CONTINUED THE TRIP TO THE LAKE. 
 
 "When Clayton Nichols and Harold Gardiner 
 unexpectedly swung aboard of their still moving 
 train as it rolled into the Denver depot, they 
 found a very merry party of travelers to wel 
 come." 
 
 As the train bearing our young friends homeward 
 slowed down at Englewood a suburban town some 
 seven miles east of Chicago the following day, Ger 
 trude, seated by the open window intent upon the fas 
 cinating story with which Margaret regaled her, sud 
 denly interrupted the reading to exclaim: "Why, 
 there's Mr. Manning now, as I live !" at the same time 
 smiling, bowing and waving her hand. 
 
 "No! Where?" burst out her companion; excitedly 
 dropping her book and looking out. 
 
 "He's just gotten aboard !" returned the other. And 
 jumping up both girls hastened to the door of the car 
 to greet their unexpected escort. 
 
 Now Margaret Armstrong being as yet in ignor 
 ance of the young man's declaration to her mother, 
 was therefore under no constraint; so there was the 
 old time charming naturalness in her reception of him. 
 "O, Will !" she cried ; extending both hands, her beau 
 tiful face wreathed in smiles. "How delighted I am 
 
36 BY EARTHQUAKE AND FIRE 
 
 to see you ! This is just the loveliest surprise ! Why, 
 I had never thought that you might come out a ways !" 
 And voice, looks and manner, all combined to give 
 added emphasis to her emphatically warm, welcoming 
 words. 
 
 "The pleasure is all mine, Margaret," returned the 
 man even more cordially. "Why, I would gladly have 
 traveled much further if necessary, for such a recep 
 tion as this." And pressing the girl's hands warmly as 
 he spoke, he released but one of them as he took the 
 extended hand of her friend; saying as he did so: 
 "And I am truly delighted to have the pleasure of 
 meeting Miss Warfield again." 
 
 "It's mutual, I assure you, Mr. Manning. I never 
 had a pleasanter surprise in my life than when I saw 
 you standing there on the platform." 
 
 "But how did you leave Mamma, Will?" broke in 
 Margaret, when they had seated themselves for a mo 
 ment in one of the unoccupied sections of their car. 
 "I'm so uneasy about her !" 
 
 "Yes; how is Aunt Nellie?" chimed in the other 
 girl, quickly. "I'm fully as anxious about her as Mar 
 garet, for you know she's going to mother me, too, 
 hereafter." 
 
 "Well I'm sorry to say that she hasn't been just her 
 self for some time," was the discouraging reply, "and 
 has seemed to miss you more this term, Margaret, than 
 ever before. I've sometimes thought, in fact, that it 
 was as much that which ailed her as anything. But 
 
THE JOURNEY CONTINUED 37 
 
 your return and the Summer at the Lake are going to 
 do wonders for her, I think; she feels so herself, too, 
 and that's half the battle, you know, so they're sure to. 
 She's so pleased that you're coming to live with us 
 now, Miss Warfield; you may not know it, but she 
 thinks as much of you as though you were her own 
 child ; she has told me so in plain English. You are a 
 very fortunate young lady, I think, to be loved so 
 deeply by such a splendid woman." 
 
 "I don't think; I know I am, Mr. Manning, and I 
 hope I value her interest in me at its true worth" ; re 
 plied Gertrude. "I should be lonely indeed today were 
 it not for her love and Margaret's." 
 
 "And that of a certain young gentleman whom we 
 all know ?" laughed the other. 
 
 "Now, Mr. Manning," the girl blushed "I do hope 
 you are not going to be as mean as Margaret upon 
 that subject; she is continually teasing, when really 
 there is no grounds for it at all. Of course, I think 
 Mr. Nichols a very nice young man, and I hope we 
 shall always be the best of friends. But " 
 
 "Who said anything about Mr. Nichols, I'd like to 
 know?" interrupted Margaret, with a mischievous 
 smile. "O, Gertie, you are such an ingenuous little 
 dear! A guilty conscience; eh, Will?" she finished, 
 teasingly. 
 
 "It certainly looks that way," assented the young 
 man. Adding heartily : "But it's nothing to be the least 
 bit ashamed of, Miss Warfield, for Clayton's as fine a 
 
38 BY EARTHQUAKE AND FIRE 
 
 fellow as God ever made, and I herewith offer my 
 services to give you away." 
 
 "Thanks, awfully!" returned the embarrassed girl. 
 "You're dreadfully kind, though much too previous." 
 And then to change the subject, quickly suggested bid 
 ding Mrs. Winslow a traveling acquaintance in the 
 car ahead goodbye. 
 
 "Why, yes"; promptly agreed her companion. "I 
 had nearly forgotten her in the happy surprise of see 
 ing Will. You'll excuse us for a moment?" to the 
 young man as they arose to leave him. 
 
 Aglow with admiration, Willard Manning's eyes fol 
 lowed the object of his deepening love as she moved 
 with her usual dignified grace down the long aisle ; for 
 was she not now to his ardent imagination a thou 
 sand times lovelier than when he had bade her a reluc 
 tant farewell that interminable six months before ? Her 
 demonstration upon meeting him had left nothing to 
 be desired, and there was no doubting the sincerity of 
 it. True, he could attach no significance to her famili 
 arity of address, for having entered Mr. Armstrong's 
 employ and their home, so young, he had never been 
 anything but Willard, or Will, to any of the family; 
 yet to his excited longing, there had seemed almost a 
 caress in the soft, sweet tones of her musical voice and 
 the kindling glances of her lustrous eyes. The almost 
 imperceptible yet spontaneous pressure of her hand 
 had thrilled his being and fascinated more even than 
 she had previously done. 
 
THE JOURNEY CONTINUED 39 
 
 "At least," thought he, "I am not distasteful 
 to her, and it will be the first failure to my credit 
 if I do not succeed in winning her love and mak 
 ing her life happy. She must be mine! With her 
 beauty of face and form, her wealth of affection, 
 her bright, intelligent mind and her culture and accom 
 plishments, she will be pleasing to the eye of her hus 
 band, satisfying to his heart, stimulating to his ambi 
 tion, and gratifying to his pride. Her lively sympa 
 thies will cheer and comfort him when depressed, her 
 saintly purity of thought and action be at once a re 
 buke and example when tempted, and her dignified 
 reserve and repose of manner a rest to him when 
 wearied. As a mother, she would be unselfishly loving, 
 though firm, wise, capable; commanding alike the 
 grateful affection, obedience, respect and admiration 
 of her children, thus making of his home a haven of 
 peace and happiness. Yes, she must be mine!" he 
 mused with still greater positiveness. 
 
 But the girl just then reappearing in the doorway, 
 a recollection of the proposed rival as confided to 
 him by Mrs. Armstrong flashed through the infatu 
 ated man's mind. "Harold Gardiner be hanged!" he 
 muttered impatiently. "I like his presumption, any 
 how ! That boy needs to be taught a lesson, and he'll 
 not find me napping when I appear upon the scene!" 
 All of which proves our hero to have been of the 
 Earth, earthy. 
 
 "Any baggage to be looked after?" he asked, gaily, 
 
40 BY EARTHQUAKE AND FIRE 
 
 when the girls had rejoined him, and the clanging 
 bell, creaking airbreaks and slackened speed, warned 
 them of their near-by destination. 
 
 "No, our trunks are checked right through," an 
 swered Margaret. 
 
 "Well, then, give me your traps" ; as the train with 
 the usual unbalancing jerk came to a sudden stand 
 still. And with no more than the ordinary amount of 
 feminine hand baggage, the little party alighted; amid 
 the roar and rumble of in-coming and out-going trains, 
 the confused hurrying hither and thither of arriving 
 and departing passengers and the mad rush of the be 
 lated to their all but moving ones, the peremptory 
 commands of burly policemen, the persistent impor 
 tunities of hotel runners and cabmen, and the general 
 ear-splitting, nerve-racking din and bustle of a Chicago 
 railway station, making their way to Mrs. Nichol's 
 carriage in waiting to convey them across the city to 
 their connecting train; where they joined that lady 
 and continued the homeward journey. 
 
 It was a jolly ride from there on, as well it might be. 
 The man, for the time being, in the intoxication of an 
 as yet unspoken love, must give vent in some way to 
 the exuberance of happiness within him ; and therefore 
 outdid himself, even, in gallantry, he was a universal 
 drawing-room favorite anticipating every possible 
 and impossible need or wish that could in any degree 
 add to the greater comfort or pleasure of his charges. 
 
 The girls, fresh from the restraints of school, happy 
 
THE JOURNEY CONTINUED 41 
 
 in the satisfied consciousness of completed tasks well 
 done, and looking out upon life with confidence in 
 themselves and faith in humanity, anxious to taste be 
 cause sure of enjoying every new sensation and experi 
 ence in store for them, were radiant with expectation 
 and hope. 
 
 While Mrs. Nichols as good-humored and viva 
 cious as ever kept the party keyed up to an un 
 usual pitch of merriment; the only regret and which 
 really did seem to sober her for an occasional moment 
 being the fact that business had compelled Georgie 
 she was an original, unconventional little body, and 
 would persist in calling her big husband by this ab 
 surdity childish name to go over to London, instead 
 of spending this first Summer in their new mountain 
 home with her, as had been expected. 
 
 "Clayton writes that the bungalow's exquisite," she 
 said pausing to explain that her brother-in-law was 
 then rusticating at the Lake "but he's getting awfully 
 impatient for our arrival. Says there's a fine big crowd 
 there all the time, but that he can't settle down to en 
 joying himself 'til we get there." 
 
 "Yes," returned Margaret, "and he's got a fine new 
 boat that he's waiting to give you the first row in"; 
 with a knowing glance at Gertie. But checked by 
 the look of mute appeal and entreaty which she met, 
 concluded innocently with, "Do you know what he's 
 named it?" 
 
 "Why, no" ; was the quick reply. "I didn't even know 
 
42 BY EARTHQUAKE AND FIRE 
 
 that he'd gotten one, especially for himself ; but I pre 
 sume he wants to surprise me. And so he's not going 
 to use it 'til / come?" she queried after a second's 
 thought. "Now isn't that just too lovely of him? How 
 that will please Georgie ! There's a brother-in-law for 
 you !" Concluding with one of her occasional lapses 
 into slang: "O, Clayton's a brick!" And as the girls 
 just then discovered something unusually interesting in 
 the scenery, their amused smiles escaped observation. 
 
 "But girls, aren't you delighted to be through with 
 school?" she began a minute later, addressing them 
 both. "I really don't see how you ever stood four 
 years of it ; why two at Geneva came near to finishing 
 me in more ways than one. You know I didn't want to 
 go at all, for to leave Joe, Will and Judson my three 
 pal brothers and live with nobody but girls, I knew 
 would be just next to Purgatory for me; though I've 
 no doubt I needed it bad enough, for growing up with 
 no one but boys for companions my sisters were all 
 much older I was a dreadful tomboy. But don't you 
 think it's very narrowing to her for a girl to spend so 
 many of her most impressionable years exclusively 
 with her own sex, Mr. Manning?" she finished. 
 
 "O, I don't know about that, Mrs. Nichols" ; replied 
 the man, conservatively; adding, "although it's a sub 
 ject I've never thought much about, to be candid. Co 
 educational institutions have their advantages, I pre 
 sume, and like all other good things their disadvan 
 tages as well. But you could hardly expect me to take 
 
THE JOURNEY CONTINUED 43 
 
 a bold stand in favor of them, in presence of such flat 
 tering tributes to Geneva and Vassar as the present." 
 
 "Why, no! To be sure not!" acquiesced his inter 
 rogator, with mock deference. "Girls, make your very 
 prettiest bow to the gentleman for such an unexpected 
 compliment!" she commanded; continuing, "And now 
 tell me all about Commencement ; what were you down 
 for, Gertie dear?" 
 
 "Just an essay on Italian art," replied the girl, with 
 careless modesty; then quickly, "but you should 
 have heard Margaret sing! Such exquisite music! 
 I shall never forget Professor Muller's face as he 
 listened to her. She was his star pupil, you know," 
 she hurried on, ignoring her friend's efforts to stop 
 her "and he tried his best at first to appear uncon 
 cerned; but it was such a dismal failure. There 
 wasn't the least bit of anxiety in his expression; no, 
 no; he was too sure of her for that; but oh, such in 
 tense pride! I really believe he loved her for the 
 moment, because of the glory she was reflecting upon 
 him. Like all fine musicians, I presume, he's of a 
 very high strung temperament, and as her pure notes 
 rose and fell and rose again, gradually swelling clearer 
 and sweeter to the finale, with all those many delicate 
 shadings of tone and expression which he says Mar 
 garet, more than any other pupil he ever had, has 
 caught from him, why he became dead to the world ; he 
 leaned forward in his chair breathless, actually 
 trembling. His eyes never left her face; he seemed 
 
44 BY EARTHQUAKE AND FIRE 
 
 to be really lifted out of himself, and I half expected 
 to see him spread wings and soar away. But the 
 funny part of it was," she went on merrily, "he didn't 
 seem to realize that she had finished, even when she 
 was bowing again and again in acknowledgment of 
 the applause and accepted flowers. He never would 
 have quite come back to Earth again, I'm afraid, if 
 Professor Loquet, who sat next him almost equally 
 entranced had not leaned over and exclaimed in a 
 stage whisper ; 'Ah, Madamoiselle ! she have ze art ! I 
 congratulate Monsieur of such a pupil !' That broke the 
 spell and poor professor sank back in a state of re 
 actionary collapse," finished the amused girl, laughing 
 merrily at the recollection. 
 
 Her friend's face was of course by this time covered 
 with a most becoming blush ; and with assumed sever 
 ity she remarked : "Whatever else you are or are not, 
 Gertie, do be truthful." 
 
 "It is the truth, every word of it," persisted the girl. 
 "From where I sat I could see and hear it all." 
 
 "And we believe every word of it, Miss Warfield," 
 put in their escort, reassuringly; "while your very 
 vivid description, by the way, makes me realize for the 
 first time what I missed by not being there. We shall 
 expect Margaret to make up for our loss, shall we not, 
 Mrs. Nichols, by giving us some rare entertainment 
 during the summer ? Moonlight evenings on the Lake 
 with such music will, I fear, make the angels take to 
 pausing there, to doubt if Eden were more fair; to 
 borrow an inadequate simile," he concluded flatteringly. 
 
THE JOURNEY CONTINUED 45 
 
 "O, dear me! how poetic!" Mrs. Nichols laughed, 
 with good-natured sarcasm. "A dreadfully bad sign 
 though, Mr. Manning; there's no further doubt as to 
 your being in love; that's sure. 'When a young man 
 takes to rhyme,' you know. There, don't blush !" And 
 during the laugh which followed at his expense, Mar 
 garet's mental ejaculation was: "Will in love! well 
 that's news to me! Some Chicago friend of her's I 
 presume, which accounts for these business trips there 
 every now and then. O, how Mamma and I would 
 miss him!" 
 
 Thus, with lively sallies and conversation and no 
 untoward incident to mar its pleasure, the two days' 
 journey seemed made as quickly as it certainly was 
 enjoyably; and when Clayton Nichols and Harold 
 Gardiner unexpectedly swung aboard their still moving 
 train as it rolled into the Denver depot, they found a 
 very merry party of travelers to welcome. 
 
 Now, while Mrs. Nichols refrained for once from 
 any embarrassing comment, she nevertheless did not 
 fail to note every detail of the meeting between 
 Gertrude Warfield and her brother-in-law, at this time. 
 The happy smile which instantly illumined the girl's 
 face at sight of him, the tell-tale flush that mounted 
 to cheek and brow as he took her dainty hand in both 
 of his, and the conscious look in her expressive eyes 
 ere they were modestly lowered under his admiring 
 gaze, were enough to assure her that the match upon 
 which she had determinedly set her heart, could but 
 materialize, and she was therefore satisfied and happy. 
 
46 BY EARTHQUAKE AND FIRE 
 
 Willard Manning, on the other hand, had noted 
 the meeting between his beloved and Harold Gardiner, 
 with still more critical observation but far different 
 emotions. Much as he longed to, he could not flatter 
 himself that there had been any greater apparent 
 warmth in the girl's greeting of himself at Englewood ; 
 while the unconcealed delight of the younger man at 
 seeing her again, together with a certain undefinable 
 something in manner as he assisted her from the car, 
 which, to his jealous eye, betokened a seeming sense 
 of ownership combined to disconcert and annoy. But 
 the frown, which, unrealized by himself, began to 
 settle upon his face, was unnoticed by any save Mrs. 
 Nichols, and as quickly banished as it had come, by 
 her jocular: "Fie, Mr. Manning! haven't you had her 
 to yourself for two whole days?" uttered in an under 
 tone as the twain were leaving the car together. 
 
 "Is Mamma down, Harold?" asked Margaret, as 
 she reached the platform; and being answered in the 
 affirmative, at once left her disappointed gallant with 
 a hurried, "Excuse me, please?" And with most un 
 dignified haste for her, made her way through the 
 crowded depot to their waiting carriage and into her 
 mother's outstretched arms. 
 
 Now, as Mrs. Armstrong had hoped, two bustling 
 days following this arrival, sufficed to complete prep 
 arations for the departure to the mountains, and to 
 wards noon of the third, probably as happy, high- 
 
THE JOURNEY CONTINUED 47 
 
 spirited and enthusiastic a party of pleasure seekers 
 left Denver as ever set off upon similar errand from 
 anywhere. The contented happiness at having her 
 precious child again at home, together with the pleas 
 urable excitement of their now numerous household 
 which had inevitably communicated somewhat of itself 
 to her had brought a tinge of color to relieve the of 
 late, extreme pallor of skin; and this seemingly quick 
 improvement in condition, even though slight, had 
 tended to set the loving daughter's fears at rest, and to 
 lift from her heart the weight of anxiety which had 
 at first settled down upon it, because of her mother's 
 sadly changed appearance. Healthy youth is always 
 optimistic, so Margaret Armstrong was now full of 
 hope for permanently good results from this outing 
 in her parent's case, and her spirits rose to the occa 
 sion accordingly. 
 
 Like most Western girls of their class, both she 
 and Gertrude Warfield were fine horse-women, having 
 learned to ride when very young; while Mrs. Nichols 
 was no less proficient in the accomplishment, for, from 
 early childhood as our readers will probably be not 
 the least surprised to know she had been accustomed 
 to riding Indian fashion, on her grandfather's farm in 
 Illinois, along with those 'pal brothers.' The younger 
 ladies of the party were therefore well fitted for the 
 two weeks before them in the saddle, and as im 
 patiently longing for its anticipated pleasure; while 
 
48 BY EARTHQUAKE AND FIRE 
 
 to escort them, there were Mr. Gardiner, his Son, 
 Harold, and Clayton Nichols, with Willard Manning 
 accompanying them for the first miles, and cleverly 
 managing for that distance to maintain a coveted 
 position at Margaret Armstrong's side. 
 
 Now it will require but a very slight stretch of the 
 imagination, we think, for the reader to accurately 
 picture to him or herself, this young man's feeling of 
 regret, not to say rebellion almost, against the unkind 
 fate which necessitated his remaining in Denver at 
 this critical time, and leaving the girl he now so dearly 
 loved to the constant and intimate association of camp 
 life with a rival; and one whom, the very short time 
 which had elapsed since her return home, had con 
 vinced him would be no half-hearted suitor for her 
 affections. For the first time in his life, was the in 
 dustrious fellow tempted to let business take care of 
 itself, and more than half regretted that he had not 
 dropped everything and gone with the rest. "Surely 
 he had worked long and faithfully enough," he argued 
 with himself. "Not for five years had he taken a 
 vacation at all ; and if by such exaggerated devotion 
 to a possibly mistaken sense of duty at this time, he 
 should lose her the very life of his life what would 
 it all amount to ? Advancement and financial gain could 
 mean nothing to him without her to share them." 
 
 Thus did the discontented, fearsome lover contrive 
 to make himself quite as miserable as any other mere 
 man in like situation would have done; for the little 
 
THE JOURNEY CONTINUED 49 
 
 God of Love is no respecter of persons. What need 
 less anxiety would it have saved him, however, had 
 he but known of the very faithful and effective ally 
 which he possessed in Mrs. Armstrong; who, while 
 she had not the least intention of influencing her 
 daughter in his favor, despite her own preferences, 
 wished him to at least have an even chance with any 
 other suitor, and greatly astonished herself by the 
 adroitness which she developed in so handling the 
 difficult situation as to keep her unenlightened daugh 
 ter and Harold Gardiner most of the time apart ; thus 
 making of that other young couple under the self- 
 constituted but truly sympathetic chaperonage of Mrs. 
 Nichols a constant source of envy to the impetuous 
 Harold. 
 
 And certain it is that these other two were being 
 favored with a most auspicious opportunity at this time 
 for the deepening of the very warm friendship which 
 had long existed between them, and which was already 
 dangerously near to infringing upon the border-line 
 of a more serious attachment. 
 
 Now, as we have seen her pictured, Gertrude War- 
 field was a being made essentially to love and be 
 loved, and the pathetic aloneness of her life had be 
 gotten in the girl an almost abnormal craving for some 
 one really entitled to claim and return her affection. 
 The reader must not make the mistake of supposing, 
 however, that she was an anaemic, sickly-minded miss, 
 who went about wearing her heart upon her sleeve. 
 
50 BY EARTHQUAKE AND FIRE 
 
 Far from it; she was both too well born and bred 
 for any of those silly, sentimental looks, words or 
 actions, by which girls of weaker natures or less well 
 instructed than herself, frequently make a premature 
 or unfortunate revelation of love to members of the 
 opposite sex, always to their embarrassment and often 
 to their ultimate undoing. But Clayton Nichols was 
 a delightfully congenial companion, and in so far 
 as she knew it, there was not a characteristic of 
 his nature which did not appeal to her admiration. 
 Yet if she was at this time actually in love with the 
 man, the girl was scarcely aware of it herself. 
 
 Upon his part, however, love had been the animat 
 ing spirit prompting his marked attentions to Gertrude 
 at their first meeting. It had grown with both 
 succeeding ones, and now that she was out of school, 
 he had no intention of letting the summer pass with 
 out offering to her his heart and hand. She was the 
 girl for him ; and while realizing that so capital a 
 prize could not remain long in the matrimonial 
 market, he nevertheless believed himself to be suffi 
 ciently persona grata with her as to take precedence 
 over other aspirants. 
 
 His was too correct and delicate a sense of the 
 proprieties, however, to incline to love-making under 
 such conspicuously vulgar and embarrassing environ 
 ment as their present one ; and even had he been 
 so disposed, such a course would have been ruinous 
 with a girl such as Gertrude. All he asked for the 
 
THE JOURNEY CONTINUED 51 
 
 nonce, therefore, was to be much in her company of 
 which he was naturally more than fond and this the 
 trip to the Lake he had journeyed to Denver solely 
 for this purpose gave him constantly the most de 
 lightful opportunities for enjoying, making of it for 
 him a glorious holiday; in fact, for them both. 
 
 Now as her friend had prophesied, the girl's artistic 
 tastes were enraptured, even long before their destina 
 tion had been reached; and when some particularly 
 fascinating bit of scenery would now and then tempt 
 her irresistibly down some trail or by-path for a few 
 moments for "just one more sketch," what more natural 
 than that Mr. Nichols should be the one who hastened 
 to assist her to dismount; part the tangled vines and 
 underbrush that she might pass easily and safely 
 through ; the only reward he craved for such gallantry 
 being the privilege of feasting his eyes upon her love 
 liness, even though apparently forgotten by her in her 
 absorption. And then those wonderful sketches; now 
 the girl had unmistakable ability as an artist; but for 
 him, no Corot or Inness could compare with them. 
 
 There was, however, none of that pre-arranged yet 
 seemingly accidental separating of these two from the 
 rest of the party so often indulged in by young people 
 of different mold under like circumstance ; so with 
 the six horses and their riders, together with the car 
 riage, carry-all and luggage wagon before alluded to, 
 for a family party of fourteen they surely formed 
 quite an imposing cavalcade, and from daylight to dark 
 
52 BY EARTHQUAKE AND FIRE 
 
 its merriment echoed and re-echoed up and down the 
 mountain side; while gathered around their evening 
 campfire, song and jest and story made the closing 
 hours of each day most jolly. 
 
 Perfect arrangements for camping in the most com 
 fortable manner, and the well-planned, easy stages of 
 the journey, made every moment a delight. The per 
 petual sunshine, clear, dry atmosphere, and cool, in 
 vigorating breezes which combine to make the climate 
 of this, one of our most favored states, famous for 
 its health-giving qualities the world over proved 
 such an immediate tonic to them all, that the hearty 
 appreciation of her efforts as their appetites increased, 
 made the heart of Mary, the cook, to swell with pride, 
 daily. 
 
 Until Colorado Springs was reached their course 
 lay through the foothills; for although the elevation 
 at this point is close to six thousand feet, it is in 
 reality a city of the plains, being but a few hundred 
 higher than Denver, their starting point. 
 
 Now to a real lover of nature there is always much 
 to admire and enjoy, even in the foothills; and Mrs. 
 Nichols and Gertrude, those two members of the party 
 who were making a maiden trip into this superb 
 region, were most enthusiastic even before the actual 
 ascent had begun. But it was not until a climb of 
 a few miles disclosed to their view in the distance 
 the towering summits of the rocky formations of every 
 conceivable shape which form the noted Garden of the 
 
THE JOURNEY CONTINUED 53 
 
 Gods, a little higher, and Colorado City, the first capi 
 tal of the State could be distinctly seen, yet a trifle 
 higher and Manitou Springs that famous Spa of 
 the West, to whose healing waters thousands of in 
 valids now go yearly came into sight nestling mod 
 estly in a cleft of the mountain, that they began even 
 meagerly to imagine the endless charm and magni 
 ficence of the grand old Rockies; and a little later 
 when, after ascending a most beautiful canyon through 
 which their route lay, they suddenly discovered below 
 them, probably a thousand feet though but a few 
 miles back, Colorado Springs, from whence they had 
 begun the ascent, their delighted astonishment can be 
 better imagined than described. Here a most gor 
 geous sunset claimed their admiration, and furnished 
 Gertrude another subject. 
 
 Two days of rest, and with the next ascent came 
 an entirely new revelation. They had mounted but 
 a few hundred feet higher, when, presto! a pano 
 rama of indescribable splendor spread out before 
 them. As far as the eye could see, stretching away 
 to the seemingly limitless horizon, were vast plains 
 dotted now and again with shimmering lakes; the 
 silvery sheen of whose transparent waters glistening 
 in the sunlight, formed a picture the most dazzingly 
 beautiful. 
 
 Thus did each day, almost hour, bring some 
 new delight; not to the strangers alone although 
 such prodigality of magnificence frequently made even 
 
54 BY EARTHQUAKE AND FIRE 
 
 the ready wit and tongue of Mrs. Nichols, mute, save 
 for an awe-struck, 'O, if Georgie were only here !' but 
 to them all; for let one be never so familiar with it, 
 there is always some new beauty, some new charm 
 discernible in mountain scenery, for it is constant 
 change. 
 
 Another ascent, and instead of the scattered 
 beauties of boundless plain, would loom the confined, 
 entrancing glories of some deep, dark mountain gorge 
 through which to pick their way, whose massive 
 granite walls, towering so high, almost hid their as 
 piring heads in the clouds above ; while down their 
 rugged sides at frequent intervals fell beautiful cas 
 cades, descending in gentle, graceful fashion to feed 
 the rippling brooks and streams flowing quietly along 
 at their feet, or leaping and tumbling in mad haste, to 
 dash with angry roar through boulder-filled chasms, 
 sending their glittering spray high in air, then rush 
 ing thence to lose themselves in the rapid rivers. 
 
 With another advance, would frequently appear 
 some new and still more stupendous exhibition of 
 Nature's handiwork to hold them spellbound. Aggre 
 gations of huge boulders, for centuries untold the 
 sport of the elements, split and rent by storms into all 
 manner of grotesque shapes; smooth, polished plat 
 forms, massive domes, gigantic and slender steeples, 
 arches, castles, battlements. Ofttimes hurled together 
 by some mighty upheaval in inextricable confusion, 
 and the whole frescoed with such exquisite colorings, 
 so bright, so rich, so varied, as if the angels who paint 
 
THE JOURNEY CONTINUED 55 
 
 the colors of the sunset had tried their brushes on the 
 faces of the eternal hills ; as one has so gracefully ex 
 pressed it. 
 
 Again would their way lead through dense primeval 
 forests of pine and spruce, every breath of whose 
 fragrance as they drank it in was like a quaff of nec 
 tar, up and down untimbered slopes where the won- 
 drously variegated verdure was unspeakably luxuriant 
 and beautiful, or by crystal mountain torrents, over 
 swollen creeks and through winding canyons, until the 
 varied charm of their route to the beautiful lake lying 
 serenely pocketed within its mountainous inclosure 
 ten thousand feet above the level of the sea, reduced 
 description to the very verge of penury. 
 
 Now there is not a spot on earth where a sense of 
 the infinite variety and stupendous grandeur of cre 
 ation arrests the attention, excites the admiration and 
 compels the reverence, more than this very section of 
 our own blessed land ; where from tiniest rill to might 
 iest river; from meanest shrub to most gigantic sen 
 tinel of the forest; from smallest pebble to hughest 
 boulder and grandest mountain, all, all proclaim, the 
 hand that made us is divine. 
 
 In contemplation of such immensity, man seems 
 small indeed by contrast; yet, in His infinite love, has 
 not the same Creator bestowed upon him alone His 
 crowning work the genius and power to subdue it 
 all to his uses, pleasures, profit? *O, that men would 
 praise the Lord for His goodness and for His wonder 
 ful works toward the children of men !' 
 
CHAPTER III. 
 
 THE TRAIL A PROPOSAL. 
 
 " 'I know that when love does awaken in your 
 heart that you will be aware of it, and that it 
 cannot help but be for me. M 
 
 Fun and frolic reigned supreme among the little 
 colony at Lake Sylvanus; every week was carnival 
 week; there were no unoccupied, few quiet and no 
 dull moments. One enthusiastic writer in dilating 
 upon the climate of Colorado has said From July to 
 October it has almost continual bright, cloudless days. 
 An air more delicious to breathe cannot be found any 
 where. It is neither too sedative nor too exciting; 
 but has that pure, flexible quality which seems to sup 
 port all one's healthiest and happiest moods. And 
 this unexaggerated eulogy seemed particularly true 
 of this particular locality. The days were grand! the 
 nights glorious! 
 
 The score of cottages of hewn or unhewn logs, 
 each of whose owners had, in a spirit of friendly 
 rivalry, aimed to make it just a trifle more attractive 
 than its neighbor, detracted no whit from the natural 
 beauties of the place; so that whether by the moon's 
 bright rays or the artificial illumination from the 
 thousands of vari-colored lanterns with which porches, 
 
THE TRAIL A PROPOSAL 57 
 
 grounds, boat houses and landings were universally 
 hung, the scene by night was like an enchanted pic 
 ture from fairyland. 
 
 With but few exceptions, each home furnished at 
 least one vocalist or performer upon some stringed 
 or wind instrument, so music and dancing were there 
 fore the chief features of entertainment by night ; while 
 by day, delightful jaunts and rambles were the usual 
 programme. Frequently these excursions were par 
 ticipated in by the women and children of the camp 
 alone, the men enjoying themselves with hunting and 
 fishing, for the mountain streams abounded in all 
 manner of delicious fish, while game, both large and 
 small was plentiful in its season; and it spoke well 
 for the skill of the sportsmen that the table of the 
 camp was kept well supplied with these. 
 
 There was a constant round of festivities, each cot 
 tage furnishing the hostess in turn; but the event of 
 the season to which all were looking eagerly forward 
 was the opening of the Nichols' bungalow, that being 
 the only new addition for the house-warming planned 
 for the occasion by its hospitable young mistress, 
 promised to be a truly sumptuous affair. 
 
 Two motives, we doubt not, impelled her to this 
 elaborateness; first, she was generous to an extreme, 
 and loved to see and make others happy ; and secondly, 
 there was a childish love of showing off strong within 
 the woman. It must be remembered, however, that 
 she was yet very young. Of that to us, baser motive, 
 
58 BY EARTHQUAKE AND FIRE 
 
 a desire to outshine, we doubt if there was an atom in 
 her make-up. 
 
 All sorts of delicacies, regardless of expense, had 
 been sent up in profusion for the banquet which she 
 purposed spreading. The affair, of course, was not to 
 come off until the arrival of Mr. Manning. Mrs. Arm 
 strong giving a Tea in her friend's honor in the mean 
 time, at which the woman's lively wit and humor made 
 her an instant favorite with her neighbors, a very 
 few of whom she had met during her short Denver 
 visit of the winter before; and it was unanimously 
 agreed that little Mrs. Nichols would make a very 
 desirable addition to their ranks. 
 
 Now it was on the morning after their arrival at 
 the Lake, that Clayton Nichols with somewhat of 
 pardonable pride was disclosing to his sister-in-law 
 the attractions of her new place; the well-prepared 
 croquet ground, pretty little rustic nooks and arbors 
 and bridges with which the grounds were adorned, the 
 tempting settees and reclining chairs with and without 
 protecting awnings placed at frequent intervals in 
 convenient spots, and the capacious hammocks swung 
 between the noble trees, all inviting to rest or enjoy 
 ment, the arrangement of which he had superintended 
 and to a large extent planned. 
 
 Taking her last of all to the little wharf where the 
 'Alice' lay moored awaiting her pleasure, the sight 
 of a second boathouse at the landing suddenly recalled 
 to mind a part of Margaret Armstrong's remarks 
 
THE TRAIL A PROPOSAL 59 
 
 while en route from Chicago, but which the excite 
 ment of the two busy days while in Denver and 
 the enjoyment of the trip up, had caused her to forget. 
 In her impetuous way she burst out with : "O, your 
 boat's in there, I suppose, Clayt! do show it to me! 
 Margaret told us about it and about your waiting for 
 me to have the first row in it. I think that's just too 
 lovely of you for anything, brother, and really, it quite 
 touched me. Just imagine how pleased Georgie will 
 be to hear of it. What have you named her? Mar 
 garet didn't seem to know." 
 
 Now these questions and request surprised her 
 companion almost into speechlessness for the moment, 
 for having told no one of his purchase, he felt quite 
 at a loss to account for Margaret Armstrong's knowl 
 edge of the matter; he had quite forgotten Tom, the 
 coachman's, accidental seeing of it and his blundering 
 excuse for the deferred launching but recover 
 ing himself he replied: "Yes, I have got a boat 
 tucked away there, Alice, but how that girl got 
 wind of it in New York, confound it, I can't for 
 the life of me make out. Ordinarily," he continued 
 apologetically, "you know I wouldn't refuse any re 
 quest of yours ; but it's a bit of a whim of mine" in 
 an offhand manner "not to have it seen or its name 
 known for a while yet ; I'm really very glad Margaret's 
 knowledge didn't include the latter. Sooner or later 
 it will depend but before the summer's over, I expect 
 to launch it and under such auspices as I rather be- 
 
60 BY EARTHQUAKE AND FIRE 
 
 lieve you, Sister, will approve, even though you should 
 be disappointed about having the honor of the christen 
 ing row; which, candidly, I hope you will" he added, 
 with a give-a-way smile he tried in vain to re 
 press. "But if you don't happen to be one of the first 
 party, Alice, you shall be of the second, and I hope 
 that will be satisfactory. Don't press me for reasons, 
 please, and then if you should be asked any questions 
 you can truthfully say you don't know." 
 
 With a knowing glance and smile, the listening 
 woman answered quickly, as he concluded : "You need 
 have no fears about my not keeping your secret, 
 brother; I shall be as dumb as an oyster on the sub 
 ject, and sincerely hope you won't ask me to be your 
 companion on your first row. Under the circum 
 stances'' she continued, with meaning emphasis on the 
 words, feeling at once and with a pleasurable thrill, 
 that Gertrude Warfield was at the bottom of all this 
 concealment "I'm much more than willing to play 
 second fiddle; besides, I've my own boat to enjoy, 
 you know. Of course what's mine's yours, Clayton," 
 she volunteered heartily, "and until you want this craft 
 of mystery to appear upon the scene, I hope you'll 
 use the 'Alice' as freely as if she were your own. Isn't 
 she a beauty? I shall dip those oars the very first 
 thing after breakfast. Thank goodness ! There's the 
 bell now," she concluded, with a delighted start. "Let's 
 go right in, for I'm decidedly famished; this moun 
 tain air has given me a perfectly ravenous appetite. 
 
THE TRAIL A PROPOSAL 61 
 
 Isn't this a heavenly morning?" she ran on, as they 
 turned towards the house. "O, if Georgie were only 
 here!" And a very visible shade of regret for her 
 husband's absence, passed over the emotional face of 
 this devoted and loving young wife. 
 
 The well-prepared, well-served meal was barely 
 finished, when the splashing of oars and a repeated 
 'Hoo-hoo' from the Lake, drew the couple hurriedly 
 to the windows of the breakfast room which faced it, 
 when they were no less delighted than surprised to 
 see the girls, with Harold Gardiner, who was just in 
 the act of fastening Margaret's boat to the landing; 
 and Clayton, all smiles, of course, rushed down to the 
 wharf to meet them, calling out gaily as he went, 
 "Well, well, this is surely a jolly surprise to begin 
 the day with! Good morning, girls; hello, Harry; 
 let me assist you, Miss Armstrong," to Margaret, as he 
 reached the landing, and afterward to her companion, 
 who followed. 
 
 Dressed in a natty costume of embroidered white 
 duck edged with blue, which set off the delicate purity 
 of her complexion to perfection, and a jaunty little 
 cap to match which became the girl most admirably, 
 Gertrude Warfield certainly did look, as Margaret had 
 effusively told her at starting, simply sweet enough to 
 kiss. Never had she appeared so bewitching to her 
 admirer as now; and as she laid her soft, white hand 
 in his and leapt lightly ashore, a thrill of unspeakable 
 pleasure shot through the young man's frame, and his 
 
62 BY EARTHQUAKE AND FIRE 
 
 heart gave an involuntary bound as a vision of the 
 proud and happy day when, as he fondly hoped, he 
 would be privileged to call this dainty creature his 
 own, flashed before his mind. 
 
 "Well!" exclaimed Mrs. Nichols, who now came 
 running smilingly down the lawn. "Why didn't you 
 come before breakfast? You must surely have gotten 
 up in the middle of the night" ; it was then barely 
 eight-thirty. "I thought we did well but you evi 
 dently beat us. But I'm awfully glad to see you, just 
 the same," kissing them warmly, as she slipped an arm 
 around each of the girls and started for the house. 
 
 "That's pretty nearly what Gertie did," said Mar 
 garet, "for she was up long before daylight. I knew 
 it would be that way as soon as we got here; she'd 
 want to spend all her time sketching. I told her she 
 would." 
 
 "O, not all of it, dear," protested her friend sweetly ; 
 "though I really did have an ambition to do the first 
 sunrise; and oh, but it was grand! I expect it to be 
 one of the very best of my collection. But what a 
 garden spot this is. I never saw such a perfect Para 
 dise before ! And what a lovely home you have, Mrs. 
 Nichols !" as a partial view of the attractive domicile 
 was obtained through the branching trees left standing 
 to shade its lawn. "There's only one objection to it, 
 however, and that can't be remedied, I'm afraid; it's 
 too far away from us." For the lake was more than 
 a mile in length, with their respective homes at either 
 end. 
 
THE TRAIL A PROPOSAL 63 
 
 "It's the finest site on the whole lake, though," put 
 in the other girl, "and either the row up, or the ride 
 or drive along its banks, or stroll through the woods, 
 will always hold so many attractions, that we won't 
 mind the little time it takes to get here either way." 
 
 "That's very true, Margaret," agreed the older 
 woman, "and I'm perfectly infatuated with the spot. 
 But how is your good mother this morning; and is 
 there any word yet as to when Mr. Manning will 
 arrive?" 
 
 "Though very tired of course, Mamma stood the 
 trip much better than I had expected," replied the 
 girl; "and we left her sleeping soundly. Our reason 
 for coming up at such an unearthly hour, was to bring 
 you word that a letter was awaiting us from Will, 
 saying that he was going to be able to leave town 
 sooner than he supposed and would start just one 
 week from the day we left ; pushing right on with the 
 fewest possible stops by a short cut which would 
 bring him here not much later than we, probably; 
 so I presume he's due most any time now." 
 
 "Well that's good news, surely, for I don't want to 
 put off the house-warming a day longer than is really 
 necessary. Let me see," she meditated, "this is Mon 
 day, tomorrow is your mother's Tea for me; how do 
 you think Wednesday evening would do? Beginning 
 with today, that would give two days to get ready in 
 and would be quite enough, I think. Come here, 
 Clayt," she called through the open window; for her 
 
64 BY EARTHQUAKE AND FIRE 
 
 brother-in-law had lingered behind a moment to show 
 his guest a little over the grounds, ostensibly, though 
 in reality to politely request him to drop the subject 
 of the two boathouses, for the present, in answer to 
 immediate inquiries as to the necessity for them. 
 
 "What do you think about Wednesday, brother?" 
 she asked, as the young men entered the room. 
 
 "What do I think about Wednesday? Why that's 
 all right; best day of all," returned Clayton, glibly; 
 "it's the one I mean to select, same as you and George 
 did. 'Monday for health, Tuesday for wealth, Wed 
 nesday the best day of all ; Thursday for losses, Friday 
 for crosses, and Saturday no day at all' " he rattled on, 
 laughingly. "Isn't that the way it goes ?" 
 
 "Stop your nonsense and be serious for just about 
 one minute !" ordered his sister-in-law. "I'm not talk 
 ing about a wedding, but a house-warming." 
 
 "O, that's it, is it?" replied the enlightened young 
 man. "Well, any day that's good enough for a wed 
 ding ought to be good enough for a house-warming, 
 it seems to me. I never supposed that the latter was 
 any more serious a subject than the former. Is it? 
 You ought to know." 
 
 "No, it isn't; nor half so serious, either, as you'll 
 probably find out some day to your sorrow, young 
 man," retorted Mrs. Nichols. "But now listen; Mar 
 garet brings word that Mr. Manning's apt to arrive 
 any hour, so I think it will be safe to plan our affair 
 for Wednesday evening, and we'd better begin today 
 
THE TRAIL A PROPOSAL 65 
 
 to get ready; don't want to be in a rush at the last 
 minute you know." This, very emphatically. "Will 
 you call on our friends and invite them, or shall I send 
 John with written invitations ? No, that would be much 
 too formal for the country," she decided the next 
 second. "You just drop in and tell them how dee- 
 lighted we shall be to welcome them to Lakewood 
 Lodge, at ye early candle light, on Wednesday. And 
 don't forget to admire their gardens, Clayt," ishe 
 charged diplomatically, "and drop a word about us not 
 having any this year. I know there isn't any one of 
 them but would be pleased to deluge me with flowers 
 for decorating, only they may not happen to think of it 
 without a gentle reminder; see?" She smiled. "Then 
 tomorrow we can go to the woods for ferns, trailing 
 vines, etc. I've no doubt there's plenty to be had, 
 and the next day under Gertie's expert supervision" 
 she put in flatteringly "we'll see how artistic we can 
 make the place look. There's all those lanterns to be 
 hung, too, you know; that will keep Mr. Gardiner 
 and you busy for a while; he has kindly offered to 
 assist. I don't think I'd care to trust the arrangement 
 of them to John." 
 
 "Yes," put in the hitherto silent caller alluded to, 
 "I want to be as useful as I am ornamental" ; purpose 
 ly misquoting. "That's right, isn't it?" as they began 
 to laugh. 
 
 "No it isn't," contradicted Margaret Armstrong 
 flatly, "and I never knew before that you were so in- 
 
66 BY EARTHQUAKE AND FIRE 
 
 sufferably conceited, Harold Gardiner. As a matter of 
 fact, you'll have to be a good deal more useful than you 
 are ornamental if your help's going to amount to 
 much," she continued teasingly. "There, don't look so 
 distressed," she hastened to admonish, as an invol 
 untary hurt look flitted across the young man's face. 
 "Why that's the greatest compliment I could have 
 paid you, I think. One so seldom hears of an orna 
 mental man being really useful except as an animated 
 clothes rack, and then they're so apt to be vain besides. 
 I wouldn't like you one bit if you were that." 
 
 "All right, Margaret"; and the young man smiled, 
 evidently thoroughly pacified. "I accept your apology 
 and thank you for the compliment and unintentional 
 pointer." Adding, in an undertone, as they followed 
 the others side by side from the room for an inspec 
 tion of the new house, "I shall be a perfect Uriah 
 Heap, hereafter, if by that means I may be able to 
 win your regard." 
 
 "Keep it, you mean, Harry," corrected his com 
 panion. "You have it already." 
 
 And this simply truthful declaration, which the girl 
 neither intended nor imagined would convey any special 
 significance, unduly magnified in importance by the 
 anxious though unacknowledged lover, was sufficient 
 to strengthen anew in his heart the hope of winning 
 the love he so sorely craved; a hope which had been 
 alternately rising and falling ever since the girl's re 
 turn home. 
 
THE TRAIL A PROPOSAL 67 
 
 Now even from the days of quite early childhood, 
 Harold Gardiner had been buoyantly conscious of an 
 extreme fondness in his heart for Margaret Arm 
 strong; and as he grew to youth and young manhood, 
 had always secretly entertained the sweet hope of ulti 
 mately making this girl his wife. During the years in 
 which college life had separated them, he had clung 
 still more tenaciously to and had in truth fed upon this 
 hope, until it had become the dream of his life ; the very 
 breath of his longing heart. When they had at last 
 met again during their brief vacations spent at home 
 the previous winter, the long-time fondness had in 
 stantly flashed into passionate love. He had then ad 
 mitted to his mother the secret which, so he learned, 
 she suspected, and who had afterward hinted of him 
 to Margaret's mother as a probable suitor. 
 
 An alliance between these two families would 
 have been an altogether agreeable happening upon both 
 sides; for Margaret Armstrong would have been 
 proudly welcomed as a daughter by the Rector and 
 his wife, while Mrs. Armstrong, on the other hand, 
 would have as gladly taken Harold Gardiner to her 
 heart as a loved son, had he been her daughter's choice. 
 For personally the young man was in every way worthy 
 of the worthy girl, and in his chosen profession, med 
 icine, gave promise of one day ranking very high; 
 since at school, at college and at the famed university 
 from which he would take his degree a year later, he 
 
68 BY EARTHQUAKE AND FIRE 
 
 had always been one of, if not the brightest member 
 of his class. But of an unusually strong, self-reliant 
 nature, the girl had always been much given to 
 commanding the subservient youth; while he had ap 
 peared more than content, happy, in just the mere 
 privilege of existence as her willing slave. 
 
 Human nature feminine perhaps, especially is 
 hard to understand. There are girls whose love can 
 be won and only won by just such servile adoration as 
 had always been offered to Margaret Armstrong by 
 Harold Gardiner; but these, we think, are usually 
 girls of weaker nature whose vain pride it gratifies, 
 and whose love, when given, is weak accordingly. 
 
 Had this clever young medico been as well versed 
 in the intricate workings of the feminine heart, at this 
 time, as he pre-eminently was in the anatomy of the 
 human body, his wooing might have been carried on 
 along more likely lines. But then, what mere mortal 
 was ever yet able to fathom the why and wherefore 
 of a woman's love ? 
 
 With jealous eye he had noted the sudden infatua 
 tion of Willard Manning, and realized that in him 
 would be found a sure and powerful rival for the 
 affections of the girl ; but Mrs. Armstrong's fortunate 
 invitation for the summer with them at the Lake, with 
 the opportunities which he foresaw in it for the press 
 ing of his suit, had made his longing heart to leap for 
 joy; and arriving in Denver the day before her daugh 
 ter's return, he had immediately sought out the mother 
 
THE TRAIL A PROPOSAL 69 
 
 and asked consent to the paying of his addresses. A 
 permission which had been most graciously given, al 
 beit, it is extremely doubtful if the invitation to the 
 Lake for that particular season, would have been ex 
 tended, had Mrs. Gardiner but have thrown out her 
 hint a trifle sooner. 
 
 Willard's detention in Denver, however, seemed a 
 Providential favoring of his aspirations, and the young 
 man would have been scarcely human had he not re 
 joiced at the occurrence. He determined therefore to 
 make the best possible use of what appeared this 
 Heaven-sent opportunity, and which under slightly 
 differing circumstances might easily have proven such. 
 
 Now renewed association with the girl, by deepen 
 ing, intensifying, and daily adding fuel to the fire of 
 his love, had soon fanned the same into what seemed 
 a veritable consuming flame within him ; and to fore 
 stall his rival, Harold Gardiner determined to make 
 known his sentiments to their inspirer on the way to 
 the Lake, even at the risk of being thought premature 
 and perhaps even grossly lacking in a nice sense of the 
 fitness of things. 
 
 But the subtle vigilance of the mother quickly de 
 tected though utterly incomprehensible to him in view 
 of her cordial reception of his intentions prevented 
 any favorable opportunity for such a course, thus 
 bitterly disappointing the poor fellow, and making 
 of the journey anything but the blissful two weeks of 
 which he had dreamed. 
 
70 BY EARTHQUAKE AND FIRE 
 
 And now this dreaded rival would soon be in their 
 midst to divide opportunities with him, to say nothing 
 of other possibilities among the numerous other eli- 
 gibles of the colony, some of them strangers, but num 
 bers of whom, if not formerly as intimate, were at least 
 as old friends of the family ; and many, he well knew, 
 would be sure to admire this strikingly beautiful and 
 accomplished returned daughter of the house. The 
 prospect was indeed a gloomy one. 
 
 But even as the darkest hours precede the break of 
 day, so a kinder fate seemed now about to lighten the 
 gloom of love's night. As the little party came out 
 upon the veranda again, Margaret announced, "We 
 must be going now." 
 
 "Oh, no; stay and lunch with us do," urged their 
 friend; her brother-in-law putting in quickly, "Yes, 
 do stay ; what's the need of going so soon ? Let's put 
 in the morning at croquet; I'm anxious to have a try 
 at the grounds." 
 
 "Thanks," returned the thoughtful daughter ; "your 
 invitation's awfully kind, tempting and all that, but I 
 really feel as though I ought not to be away all of this 
 first morning, for you know we got here too late last 
 evening to do any unpacking and arranging of the 
 little things, and I want to superintend that, and save 
 Mamma. Then there's the Tea for tomorrow to be 
 arranged for, and as I shall no doubt be wanted to 
 sing, I must do some practicing. We've got that duet 
 to go over a few times, you know"; to Harry. "No, 
 
THE TRAIL A PROPOSAL 71 
 
 we really must not stay this morning," she concluded. 
 
 "Well, of course if you feel that way about it, Mar 
 garet, why we can't insist," said Mrs. Nichols; 
 although we'd dearly love to have you with us. We'll 
 excuse you and Mr. Gardiner, but there's no necessity 
 of your going, Gertie," turning to the other. "Do stay, 
 dear;" as the girl hesitated. "Clayton will be gone all 
 the afternoon, and I shall be dreadfully lonely all by 
 myself." 
 
 There being no valid reason to advance for not ac 
 cepting this very pressing and pleasing invitation, 
 the young girl did so ; much, of course, to the delight 
 of her host, who immediately challenged her to a game 
 of croquet. 
 
 "You won't stand a ghost of a show, Mr. Nichols," 
 warned her friend, "for Gertie was the champion at 
 Vassar." 
 
 "Glad to hear that, Miss Armstrong; I always like 
 to meet 'a foeman' or woman 'worthy- of my steel'," 
 quoted the challenger, laughing. Then added mag 
 nanimously, "A fellow always feels sort of mean, you 
 know, winning a game from a lady, anyway, so he'd 
 rather have it a close shave and be beaten. He does 
 hate to simply give a game away, though, for fear 
 of offending." 
 
 "The only way you'll offend me, Mr. Nichols, will be 
 by not playing your very best," spoke up Gertrude, 
 quickly. "It must be 'a fair field and no favors,' 
 remember." 
 
72 BY EARTHQUAKE AND FIRE 
 
 "All right, that's a go. What color will you have?" 
 he asked, at once stooping and opening the box, which 
 stood in a corner of the porch. 
 
 "Blue, please," replied the girl, sweetly. 
 
 "I'll take white, then, so as to have everything in 
 harmony with that pretty suit," ventured the young 
 man, with such an admiring glance at both it and the 
 wearer as caused the deep wild-rose tint in Gertrude's 
 cheeks to instantly take on a much richer hue; and 
 taking the mallets and balls Clayton escorted his fair 
 opponent to the new ground. 
 
 Now it will no doubt have been noticed that Harold 
 Gardiner had taken no part in the conversation relative 
 to the termination of their call. Whichever way his 
 companion should have decided it would have been 
 eminently satisfactory to him. But the unlooked-for 
 suggestion that the other remain found an instant 
 echo in his heart, and he waited breathless for her 
 decision; his joy therefore knew no bounds when the 
 invitation was accepted. 
 
 "Thank Heaven !" he breathed, with a sigh of relief. 
 "The time has come at last ! my first, perhaps my only 
 chance! may Pandora's evils all light upon my un 
 worthy head if I make not the most of it!" And un 
 heeding the chatter going on around him about the 
 proposed game, the young man's mind at once became 
 busy planning a coup upon which he felt all his future 
 happiness or unhappiness must depend. 
 
 It was a serious moment, as moments upon which 
 
THE TRAIL A PROPOSAL 73 
 
 hang momentous consequences always are to thinking 
 men, and he felt it. It is always the unexpected that 
 happens; and although for two weeks he had been 
 endeavoring to find an opportunity for the revealing 
 of his love, one had now been thrust upon him with 
 such suddenness as to be almost disconcerting ; but as 
 the girl turned towards the landing he asked quickly: 
 "How would you like to leave the boat, Margaret, and 
 walk home; it will be beautiful along the trail this 
 morning." Adding, craftily, "and we can stop at the 
 spring and get some of those ferns your mother was 
 wishing for yesterday." 
 
 "Why, I'd like nothing better," replied the girl, with 
 delightful enthusiasm, unsuspectingly falling into the 
 prepared trap. "I'm so glad you thought of it, Harry. 
 Naturally, I want to see all of this dear old place as 
 quickly as possible; we've had the lake coming up, 
 now let it be the woods, by all means; and Mamma 
 will be so pleased that we thought of her. I shall not 
 fail to tell her where the thanks belong." 
 
 "No need of doing that, Margaret, for you know 
 how blessed it is to give," returned her companion. 
 And there was a double meaning to his words as he 
 concluded with: "Besides, I expect to get fully as 
 much pleasure in going for them as they can possibly 
 give to her." 
 
 "But are you quite sure you know the way by this 
 'trail' you mention?" asked their friend, with feigned 
 solicitude. "It would be dreadful for us to have to 
 get out and hunt for babes in the woods." 
 
74 BY EARTHQUAKE AND FIRE 
 
 ''Have no fears," laughed Margaret. "The trail's 
 much too well defined for that, and, anyway, it would 
 be next to impossible for me to lose myself anywhere 
 in these woods. Harry knows them about as well, too, 
 I fancy, for he has spent several summers here with 
 us when we were children, and men and boys never 
 forget such things, I think. Have you forgotten, 
 Harry?" she queried. 
 
 "No, Margaret, I have forgotten nothing" replied 
 the young man briefly. And with a "goodbye; please 
 bring the boat down this evening," to Mrs. Nichols, 
 and a "Come, Harry," much as one might say, "Come, 
 Carlo" to a pet spaniel, and which would have been 
 obeyed with no greater alacrity, the unsuspecting girl 
 turned towards the woods. 
 
 Now, a fine road ran along the bank of the Lake, but 
 this was much frequented, and Harold had suggested 
 the trail because of its greater seclusion. From one 
 to two feet in width, it curved around the mountain, 
 now ascending, now descending, through a thick forest 
 of fir and spruce and pine trees, whose lofty tops 
 seemed almost to lose themselves in the deep blue sky 
 overhead; while a patchwork of mosses of differing 
 varieties and shades of coloring ornamented their 
 trunks and the rocks out of which many of them 
 seemed to have sprung. The Summer air was redolent 
 with their rich, resinous fragrance, and a soft carpet 
 of their thickly fallen needles covered the ground. 
 There were no signs of animate life near, but them- 
 
THE TRAIL A PROPOSAL 75 
 
 selves, save for a lizzard now and then wriggling 
 across a rock, or an alert, graceful little chipmunk 
 scampering up and down a tree as though playing hide- 
 and-seek with itself. The density of growth, which, 
 save in infrequent patches, largely excluded the sun 
 light, made it comparatively dark, and the only sounds 
 to be heard were the faint, gentle gurgling of an occa 
 sional hidden spring among the rocks, and the crunch 
 ing and crackling of the dry pine needles and cones 
 beneath their feet. It was still ; very still. 
 
 Amid such surroundings, deep natures, whether old 
 or young, are apt to be still also. The pervasive voice 
 of mighty Nature seems speaking, and their ears are 
 attuned to catch the sound. It is a time, a place, more 
 conducive to thought than speech, and our young 
 friends seemed responsive to the mood of all around 
 them; there was therefore but little attempt at con 
 versation, for they were both thinking. 
 
 He, not as we fear many men, possibly the average 
 man, would have done at such a time, as to whether 
 Margaret, should she accept him, would prove all that 
 he expected, and bring into his heart and life the 
 exceeding great happiness for which he hoped; but, 
 au contrairc, whether she would ever be disappointed 
 in him, and regret her choice; thus proving the depth, 
 sincerity and worth of his passion. 
 
 The result of this self communing created no distrust 
 of himself in the young man; he could not doubt the 
 testimony of his own heart, and to its innermost re- 
 
76 BY EARTHQUAKE AND FIRE 
 
 cesses, its most unfathomable depths, Margaret 
 Armstrong's image reigned supreme over self. 
 
 The girl's thoughts had been of love, also, though 
 of a different type paternal love; for the trail had 
 been a favorite walk of her dear father's, and she was 
 living over again in memory the happy days of child 
 hood, when during the long Summers spent at the 
 Lake there had been scarcely a day in which she had 
 not accompanied him on his rambles; her mother, 
 always delicate, seldom feeling strong enough for the 
 climb. And this trend of thought, bringing with it as 
 it did a fresh realization of their great loss, but added 
 to the softening and subduing influences around her, 
 and she, too, was still. 
 
 Arrived at the spring, where the trail for a space 
 widened out into quite a pretentious clearing, having 
 refreshed themselves with the cool, delicious water, and 
 gathered the ferns as planned, they sat themselves 
 down upon a fallen tree to rest ; the young man at the 
 same stripping from it a piece of its thick bark, which, 
 with a few deft strokes of his knife, he proceeded to 
 fashion into a heart. Turning the smooth inner surface 
 towards him, Harold then slowly and carefully cut 
 within its centre an artistic M, surrounded by the im 
 pressive words, from centre to circumference; after 
 which, again reversing it, and leaning forward with 
 elbows resting on knees and hands extended before 
 him, he sat for some minutes nervously tapping the 
 object with his knife; still silent. 
 
THE TRAIL A PROPOSAL 77 
 
 "A penny for your thoughts, Harry ; what new mi 
 crobe are you planning to annihilate now?" at length 
 asked his companion, playfully; for the long and un 
 usual abstinence from conversation between them was 
 beginning to wear upon the girl's nerves. 
 
 The tapping instantly ceased, although even then the 
 young man did not answer at once; but after a few 
 seconds, altogether ignoring the joking question, and 
 without looking up, he spoke with great impressive- 
 ness and said : "The wealth of the Indies, no, nor the 
 treasures of the universe, could not buy my thoughts, 
 Margaret, for they are priceless to me ; but I want to 
 give them to you freely; may I ?" 
 
 The unusual actions and manner of her companion 
 even more than his strange words, had startled the 
 girl ; heart seemed to cease beating and breath to stop 
 for an instant; and as though to escape from some 
 impending danger she knew not what she half arose 
 from her seat; but controlling herself, settled back, 
 and answered slowly and hesitatingly: "Why er 
 yes Harry; but I er don't know what you mean." 
 Scarcely realizing what she said. 
 
 Harold Gardiner's temperament was the ultra- 
 ardent one which accompanies bright red hair; and 
 now, suddenly sitting erect and facing the girl, he 
 burst out vehemently: "I mean this, Margaret, that 
 I love you ! love you with a passion so deep, so strong, 
 so overpowering, that it is eating my very heart out! 
 
78 BY EARTHQUAKE AND FIRE 
 
 Young as we are, for ten long years your sweet image 
 has been enshrined there; it has been the altar at 
 which my devotions have been paid; it has been the 
 happiness, the dream, the hope, the inspiration, the 
 guiding star of my life ; beckoning me on to lofty pur 
 pose, to high endeavor. I have gone to my tasks in 
 the morning with but one thought: to do, to accom 
 plish something during the day of which you might be 
 proud did you but know of it, and I have fallen asleep 
 at night praying to be made worthy of you. My love 
 for you has been the sunshine of my life, flooding my 
 very soul with its radiance!" And with an intense 
 pleading in his voice to which his vehemence had 
 given way he concluded: O, tell me, Margaret, that 
 that love is returned!" His eyes, luminous with the 
 fervor of his passion, now peering hungrily into hers, 
 as though to find in them, at least, a reflection of his 
 own. 
 
 So great had been the girl's surprise at these im 
 passioned words as to render her for the moment 
 utterly incapable of speech; so with a trace of disap 
 pointment in look and voice, though with no less of 
 ardor, the young man continued: "Do you hesitate, 
 Margaret? Can it be that my heart has never yet 
 spoken to yours, this heart where you have so long 
 reigned as queen? Have you forgotten the last time, 
 four years ago, when we drank at this spring together, 
 gathered from these same ferns, sat upon this same 
 tree? Have you forgotten that day, Margaret? Tell 
 
THE TRAIL A PROPOSAL 79 
 
 me, have you forgotten that day?" His voice becom 
 ing more and more vibrant with repressed emotion as 
 he proceeded. 
 
 As her lover ceased speaking a second time, Mar 
 garet Armstrong at last found voice to reply; and 
 with an unusual tenderness of manner towards him 
 she said : "No, Harry, I have not forgotten that day, 
 and it will always be a very happy memory in my life ; 
 we promised never to forget each other ; to be friends 
 as long as life should last." 
 
 "Friends, Margaret!" broke in the young man fe 
 verishly, as she finished. "I spoke only of friendship 
 at that time because we were both so young; but my 
 love was none the less a fact even then, although less 
 deep than now, and the sweet hope that you might 
 have recognized and secretly responded to it has been 
 the ambrosia upon which my heart has fed during 
 these four years of our separation." 
 
 "I shall have to confess, Harry," now replied the 
 girl, again more at ease with him, "that your words 
 have taken me utterly by surprise; probably that is 
 because we have grown up together and you have 
 always seemed so like a brother to me. I feel sure no 
 brother could ever have been kinder or more devoted 
 to a sister than you have been to me, nor have been 
 thought more of in return. But that you loved me, 
 Harry, no, I had never detected it; so your heart 
 could never yet have spoken to mine, as you put it." 
 
 "But it will, Margaret, it will!" he exclaimed, im- 
 
80 BY EARTHQUAKE AND FIRE 
 
 petuously. "Love begets love; now that you know 
 how very dear you are to me you cannot remain 
 indifferent; such love as mine will compel a return." 
 
 "Please do not think that I am even now indifferent 
 to you, Harry," replied the girl, warmly. "I cannot 
 tell you in words how much I think of you, how proud 
 I am of you, nor how highly I prize your friendship. 
 I cannot doubt the sincerity and fervor of your senti 
 ment, either, and I am surely flattered by it. Perhaps 
 romantic love has not yet awakened in my heart," she 
 ventured. "I love Mamma and Gertie more than my 
 self, I think, but the love that you ask, Harry, I do not 
 seem to fully comprehend." 
 
 "Thank you for that acknowledgment, Margaret," 
 returned the relieved lover, fervently; "you don't 
 know what a load it has taken from my mind, for I 
 was afraid your affections might already have been 
 centered elsewhere. But since they are not I can 
 afford to wait, for I know that when love does waken 
 in your heart you will be aware of it, and that it 
 cannot help but be for me." 
 
 "Does Mamma know of this, Harry?" suddenly 
 asked the young girl. 
 
 "Certainly, Margaret; you surely could not think 
 me so lacking as to address you without her permis 
 sion. I called upon her the day before your return, 
 and was received with all the sweet graciousness of 
 which you know her to be capable. Her permission 
 was given without the least hesitation." 
 
THE TRAIL A PROPOSAL 81 
 
 "Our having had so few moments together alone, 
 since, accounts for her not having told me of it, no 
 doubt," returned Margaret. "I know she thinks the 
 world and all of you, Harry, and if you win my love 
 you will be sure of hers also. But now we must not 
 linger any longer in this sweet spot, which, believe me, 
 Harry, will be doubly dear to me hereafter. Please 
 do not refer to this matter again for the present, 
 though,' she requested, gently, "but give me time to 
 become acquainted with myself; and remember, 
 always, that you at least have my very highest regard 
 and esteem." 
 
 As the girl concluded, her eye fell upon the heart 
 which had been cut from the bark, but which in his 
 agitation had fallen from the ardent wooer's hand un 
 noticed. Stooping quickly she picked it up ; and as her 
 eye read the moving message which it contained, there 
 was a noticeable catch in the lowered voice as she 
 added: "And this emblem of my sovereignty over 
 your heart will be one of my treasures henceforth." 
 
 With a hopeful and therefore happy smile, though as 
 yet unaccepted, the always accommodating lover re 
 plied, in answer to her request for further time, "It 
 shall be as you wish, Margaret, and until I have your 
 love I will hold your regard and esteem of first import 
 ance." Then quickly possessing himself of his loved 
 one's hand he pressed upon it a passionate and truly 
 worshipful kiss; after which, gathering up the ferns 
 which lay at their feet, he followed her slowly down 
 the trail. 
 
CHAPTER IV. 
 
 JACK LINDSAY. 
 
 " 'This is my Brother Jack, who has been just 
 dying to meet you.' " 
 
 The Nichols place which these two had just left 
 adjoined that of the Lindsays, who, being very close 
 friends of Mrs. Armstrong, had been among the few 
 invited by her to meet Mr. and Mrs. George Nichols 
 while her guests the previous Winter. 
 
 Now the Lindsay family consisted of the Doctor, his 
 wife, and their two grown children, Jack and Hattie. 
 Like that of our heroines, the higher education of the 
 latter had been gotten at Vassar; and it having been 
 completed but a year sooner, she and Gertrude War- 
 field were of course intimately acquainted with each 
 other. Born and bred in the same sphere of life, with 
 the same instincts, ideas, ideals and aims, the two were 
 of thoroughly congenial natures, and as Art had been 
 the specialty of both, this similarity of taste and talent 
 had naturally been an additional bond between them. 
 Margaret and this girl had been playmates in child 
 hood, the intimacy going on uninterruptedly to the 
 present time ; and she was looking forward with much 
 pleasure to a share in Gertrude's companionship, now 
 
JACK LINDSAY 83 
 
 that the girl was to become a member of the Arm 
 strong household. 
 
 Mrs. Lindsay, an artist amateur of no mean 
 ability herself, had seen her talent inherited by her 
 children, with extreme gratification; the son, Jack, 
 in fact having chosen Art as his profession. This 
 young man was now at home, enjoying a first vacation 
 after two years of hard study abroad, which had fol 
 lowed a number previously spent in pusuit of the same 
 line under the most competent instruction to be had 
 at home ; and brother and sister, devotedly attached to 
 each other, were often to be seen seated by the road 
 side or perched upon a convenient rock, transferring 
 the beauties and wonders of sky or landscape to sketch 
 book or canvas. 
 
 A young man of nearly twenty-six, Jack Lindsay 
 was as handsome a fellow as one need care to meet; 
 with a delicately-tinted, olive complexion that any 
 girl might have envied him. In fact, their friends had 
 always said that it should by right have belonged to 
 the sister, who was an extremely plain-looking girl, 
 and not at all favored either as to texture or coloring 
 of skin. His wealth of wavy hair was almost black, 
 his eyes very dark blue; of that dreamy, langorous 
 sort which bespeak the artistic temperament. Affable 
 and gentlemanly mannered, deferential almost to ten 
 derness in his address toward women, Jack Lindsay 
 was sure of a warm welcome in society everywhere. 
 
 From out the windows of his room for he had not 
 
84 BY EARTHQUAKE AND FIRE 
 
 yet taken on the early-rising habits indulged in by the 
 rest of the family when at the Lake the young man 
 had seen the boat containing our girls and Harold 
 Gardiner go by and tie up at the Nichols' wharf ; and 
 as he and his sister were breakfasting together, for 
 the girl would never allow her loved brother to take 
 his meal alone, he remarked casually, "You've met 
 our new neighbor, Mrs. Nichols, haven't you, Sis?" 
 
 "Yes," was the reply ; "when she was visiting Mrs. 
 Armstrong last Winter. She's one of the brightest, 
 jolliest little women imaginable, and I'm so glad 
 they've built up at our end of the Lake, for one's sure 
 to have a lively time when she's around, I tell you. 
 But why do you ask, Jack?" 
 
 "Because I want you to take me over there when 
 we've finished. Margaret and Harry have just gone 
 up, and your friend, Miss Warfield, I presume it was. 
 My, but she's a picture! and what a beauty Margaret 
 has grown, too ! Why, I'd hardly have recognized her 
 anywhere else." 
 
 "But don't tell her so, Jack, for goodness sake!" 
 cautioned his sister, laughingly. "She might think it 
 a doubtful compliment ; I mean about the great change 
 in her appearance. She certainly is wonderfully hand 
 some now, but it's only a couple of years since she 
 began to improve, and then it all came so suddenly. I 
 was with her at school at the time, and in a few months 
 you wouldn't have recognized her for the same girl. 
 I think she used to be almost as homely as / am, so 
 perhaps there's hopes for me yet." 
 
JACK LINDSAY 85 
 
 "Tut, Sis, you're not homely; I see millions of 
 worse-looking girls than you every day, and none that 
 I'd be so proud to call my sister; I wish that I could 
 take you back with me." 
 
 'Thanks, Jack," smiled the complimented girl, ap 
 preciatively ; "and O, how I'd love to go! but of 
 course, Papa'd never consent to such a thing. But what 
 were we talking about? O, yes; Margaret. Well, 
 she's just the same dear, old, charming self that she 
 always was, and you'll like her as much as ever. She 
 sings exquisitely, too. But I don't really think we'd 
 better go over this morning, Jack," she added per 
 suasively. "Mrs. Nichols only got here last evening, 
 you know, and I hardly feel well enough acquainted 
 with her to run in immediately for a morning call." 
 
 "O, fudge!" returned the brother; "it'll be all 
 right; everything's informal here; that's the great 
 beauty of the place. You can just say that I saw my 
 old playmates, Margaret and Harry, go by, and as I 
 hadn't seen them for so long couldn't resist the tempta 
 tion to run over and say 'howdy' to them. You can 
 apologize, and all that, if you think it's necessary. 
 But who is this Miss Warfield?" he concluded care 
 lessly, while replacing his napkin in its ring. 
 
 "Why, she's Margaret's chum, Jack," answered 
 Hattie; "the dearest, sweetest little creature, and the 
 most unselfish that ever lived. Everybody loves her; 
 some way she seems to slip right into their hearts at 
 
86 BY EARTHQUAKE AND FIRE 
 
 once. You didn't exaggerate a bit when you called 
 her 'a picture,' either, and she's talented, too, and rich 
 beside, though just as simple and unaffected as if she 
 hadn't a penny to her name. But then she comes of 
 excellent family, which accounts for that. She was 
 the only child of the late Judge and Mrs. Warfield, of 
 Omaha ; her father was one of the most noted lawyers 
 of the West, you know. He died soon after she came 
 to college, and she lost her mother a Southerner 
 when she was born, poor girl. She and Margaret are 
 like sisters to each other, and as she's alone in the 
 world, she's going to make her home with the Arm 
 strongs hereafter. I shall enjoy her companionship 
 immensely, particularly as our talents lie in the same 
 direction. Gertie did some very good work even while 
 I was at school with her, and has no doubt vastly 
 improved since then ; I want you to see some of it. 
 I mean to have her spend at least a week here with us 
 before we go down." 
 
 Now this seemingly extravagant eulogy of her 
 friend by his sister had not fallen upon deaf ears, 
 by any means, although the young man made no com 
 ments; but as she finished, he pushed back his chair 
 and asked as though their making the proposed call 
 were a foregone conclusion, "Well, how soon shall 
 we start, Sis?" 
 
 "O, Jack, I know Mamma won't at all approve of 
 our being quite so premature," protested the girl. "But 
 if you're really determined to go," she finally ac- 
 
JACK LINDSAY 87 
 
 quiesced, "why, we'd better get away before she 
 comes." 
 
 "All right; let's vamoose, then, for I hear wheels," 
 returned her brother; jumping hastily up and making 
 for the hall. 
 
 "Sure they're not in your head, Jack?" joked his 
 sister, stopping, however, and assuming a listening 
 attitude as she spoke. 
 
 "Not by a jugful! There, what do you call that?" 
 her companion queried, as a distinctly grating sound 
 fell upon their ears from the graveled road. "Here, 
 skip!" said he, thrusting upon her the parasol, which 
 with one hand he had taken from the rack, while with 
 the other he grabbed his own Panama. And making 
 their exit through a side door, the two rounded the 
 rear corner of the house much after the manner of a 
 couple of guilty little children, just as the parents, 
 returning from a regular morning constitutional, drove 
 up to the carriage block in front. 
 
 Now, having returned to the house for a chat upon 
 paper with her absent husband immediately after the 
 departure of Margaret Armstrong and her rejoicing 
 lover, Mrs. Nichols was in the act of crossing the 
 spacious hall to her own apartments for that purpose, 
 just as the runaways who had crossed the few rods 
 of lawn separating their respective homes in almost 
 less time than it would take to record the fact stepped 
 upon the veranda. Staying her steps for an instant to 
 see who the newcomers might be, she at once recog- 
 
88 BY EARTHQUAKE AND FIRE 
 
 nized the girl ; and in her whole-hearted way hastened 
 to the door to greet them. 
 
 "Why, Miss Lindsay! how delighted I am to see 
 you ! come in, come in !" shaking hands with both as 
 the girl presented her brother in that hearty school 
 boy fashion peculiarly her own, which charmed Jack 
 Lindsay, and at once established a feeling of camar 
 aderie between the two. 
 
 "I feel that we owe you a thousand apologies, Mrs. 
 Nichols," said Hattie, as they followed the lady into 
 the living room. 
 
 "What for, pray?" was the surprised inquiry. 
 
 "Why, for calling so soon, for one thing, and so 
 early in the day besides. But we're simply a pair of 
 runaways ; Mamma never would have let us be quite 
 so informal if she'd been at home. Jack just insisted 
 on coming, however, and as he's company, why, I had 
 to humor him. He's grown such a Bohemian since 
 he's been away from home that there's no keeping him 
 to the proprieties any more, at all," replied the girl, 
 with a reproving look at her insistent brother. 
 
 "I plead guilty to the charge," confessed the young 
 man, with mock contrition, "and can only hope for 
 our friend's indulgence; which, somehow, I feel quite 
 certain will be granted. But honestly," he continued, 
 "that's the great charm about Bohemia its lack of 
 conventionality, which at least posseses the saving 
 grace of keeping its denizens from becoming a mere 
 menagerie of parrots and apes." 
 
JACK LINDSAY 89 
 
 "You're a man after my own heart exactly, Mr. 
 Lindsay; shake!" returned their young hostess, with 
 great animation, extending her hand, heartily, they 
 were seated very near each other, "and I hope my 
 neighbors will have no greater drain upon their 
 indulgence in respect to me before the season's over 
 than I feel you to have been upon mine this morning. 
 I'm almost sure to do something unconventional. So 
 cial etiquette much of it, at least is so awfully tire 
 some to me; simply bores me to death. I think it 
 makes us such a lot of hypocrites, and utterly uninter 
 esting, by robbing us of our individuality. Why when 
 every one lives by rote you know just what to expect 
 all the time, and so lose your interest in them. I like 
 people's actions to be an expression of themselves; 
 not as though we were all cut out by the same pattern," 
 she went on, with much vigor, "from the same piece of 
 calico ; I like the vim, the spice of life that comes from 
 variety." 
 
 "Still," asked the practical Hattie, "would we really 
 want every one we come in contact with to feel free to 
 say and do everything they thought of or wished to? 
 Mamma says that the fixed rules of society keep much 
 selfishness in check." 
 
 "Of course, there's two sides to the question," as 
 sented their hostess, graciously, "and as we've got to 
 bow to its dictates, whether or no, why we might as 
 well swallow our objections with a good grace, I 
 suppose, as to be compelled to gulp them down like our 
 
90 BY EARTHQUAKE AND FIRE 
 
 Spring doses in childhood. I shall never forget the 
 scenes," she laughed, reminiscently, "that would always 
 follow Mamma's leading me to the lavatory in the 
 nursery, with her cupful, never less, of the nauseat 
 ing stuff. I can hear her yet, as plainly as though it 
 were but yesterday, after the most patient coaxing, 
 bribing and threatening by turns, finally declare, 'Now, 
 Alice, there's no use making any more fuss; it's got 
 to go down; here, let me hold your nose!' and with 
 a terrific sputtering and gagging, all that I had not 
 succeeded in pouring down the drain while her unsus 
 pecting back was turned, would at last be forced down 
 my unwilling throat. But how is your good mother, 
 and the Doctor, your father? We did so enjoy meet 
 ing them last Winter." 
 
 "Both very well, indeed, thank you, Mrs. Nichols," 
 replied the son ; adding gallantly, "and looking forward 
 with much pleasure, I assure you, to having such 
 a desirable and charming neighbor." 
 
 "Very lovely, indeed, Mr. Lindsay," the lady smiled 
 in appreciation of the neatly turned compliment "and 
 I hope their pleasure may be only second to my own 
 in receiving them here, as I hope to have the great 
 pleasure of first doing on Wednesday evening; 
 though one drawback to my happiness and thorough 
 enjoyment of the occasion will be my husband's ab 
 sence; that he is not here to do the honors and share 
 the pleasure with me. Mr. Manning, whom we are 
 waiting for, is expected by that time; the girls have 
 been up to tell us so already this morning." 
 
JACK LINDSAY 91 
 
 "Yes," put in Hattie, "Jack saw them pass." But, 
 checked by her knowledge and observance of 'social 
 etiquette/ she refrained from adding that their uncere 
 monious call was altogether due to that fact, and not 
 to an excessive neighborliness upon their part, as their 
 hostess evidently found much pleasure in supposing. 
 
 "I tried to keep them for luncheon," Mrs. Nichols 
 resumed, "but Margaret feared her mother would 
 over-do if she stayed, so she and Mr. Gardiner left 
 just a little before you came." 
 
 "Why, I didn't notice any one on the lake," said the 
 girl. "Did you, Jack?" 
 
 "O, they walked back," volunteered the other, with 
 out waiting for the young man to reply ; "went by the 
 trail, if you know where that is. But Miss Warfield's 
 still here; you're acquainted with her, aren't you?" 
 
 "Well, rather,' replied Hattie, smiling. "That is, / 
 am. We were at school together for three years, so 
 I know well just what a darling Gertie is, and I'm 
 very anxious, of course, to have my brother meet her." 
 
 "Shall we join them, then?" asked Mrs. Nichols. 
 "She and my brother-in-law are having a game around 
 on the lawn." 
 
 Now, it was for just some such turn in the conver 
 sation that Jack Lindsay had been most devoutly wish 
 ing ever since their arrival. Rising at once, he put in 
 heartily, "By all means, Mrs. Nichols ; and it's shame 
 fully thoughtless of us to have kept you indoors this 
 lovely morning. I do hope you'll pardon us." 
 
92 BY EARTHQUAKE AND FIRE 
 
 "O, don't worry about that, Mr. Lindsay," was the 
 comforting reply, as they left the house in compliance 
 with his action. "I meant to stay in," she continued, 
 with her usual frankness, "and devote the morning to 
 Georgie" Mr. Nichols, she paused to explain, "so 
 you haven't kept me in at all." 
 
 "Well, then, we owe the apology to Mr. Nichols for 
 having kept you from him; is that it?" asked the 
 young man, laughing. 
 
 "To no one; I have all the afternoon for writing, 
 and wouldn't have missed your call this morning for 
 anything," returned their hostess, with great cordiality. 
 
 "I suppose it's billiards gone to grass, that we're to 
 see," ventured Jack, as they walked along. 
 
 "Yes, but not to seed," was the quick rejoinder. "I 
 thing it's far too popular a game for that, ever, don't 
 you? I hope you'll both come over and play with us 
 very often." 
 
 "Thanks; we will," replied the sister, heartily. 
 We're both fond of it, and I'd be much more so, even, 
 if I could ever get to putting up a half-way decent 
 game. "O, Gertie dear!" she burst out they had 
 by this time reached the croquet field "I'm awfully 
 glad to see you once more ;" rushing forward and half 
 smothering her friend with kisses, in the true school 
 girl fashion which she had not yet outgrown. "This 
 is my brother, Jack, who has been just dying to meet 
 you ;" with a mischievous look in his direction, for 
 she had read him like a book "Miss Warfield, Jack." 
 
JACK LINDSAY 93 
 
 Now, in any one possessed of far less claim to beauty 
 than his sister's attractive young friend, Jack Lindsay's 
 artistic eye, trained to discover even hidden perfec 
 tions, might probably have found much to admire. 
 But if, in the hasty glimpse which he had obtained of 
 her in the passing boat a few hours earlier, Gertrude 
 had seemed to him 'a picture,' the vision of extreme 
 loveliness which he now beheld at close range for the 
 first time, bewildered, dazzled him. He felt his sister's 
 description to have been wholly inadequate; a most 
 feeble portrayal of such myriad charms. The girl was 
 at once a dream; a poem; the light, the fragrance, 
 the softness of the hour. So fresh and fair, she 
 seemed to him the very epitome of a Spring morning ; 
 full of all the gentle charm and promise of sweet, 
 young life. So enamored was he, for 'whoever loved 
 that loved not at first sight' that his usual sang froid 
 entirely forsook him; and it was with a very evident 
 show of embarrassment, both to the surprise and 
 amusement of his sister, that he bent over the proffered 
 hand and murmured his acknowledgments of the intro 
 duction. He had come, and seen, and he was 
 conquered. 
 
CHAPTER V. 
 
 A MORNING GAME. 
 
 "'Well, 'twas a glorious victory'! declared 
 Jack coming quickly up the field to shake hands 
 with his opponents." 
 
 From long acquaintance with his brother's de 
 voted wife, Clayton Nichols understood perfectly 
 what a weighty, lengthy matter a letter to Georgie 
 always was; why, her postcripts alone would fill vol 
 umes, he was wont to declare, teasingly even under 
 ordinary circumstances; and now, with so much in 
 teresting data incident to the trip, the place, et cetera, 
 to give him, there was no telling when the precious 
 epistle would be finished. "Certainly not before lunch 
 time," he congratulated himself, gleefully, as their fair, 
 young guest accepted the invitation to remain; and 
 his heart reveled in the prospect of a whole morning of 
 companionship alone with this sweet girl, hourly be 
 coming more dear to him. His feelings, therefore, 
 would perhaps be better imagined than described when 
 the trio before referred to made their advent upon the 
 scene. Not to mince matters, the intrusion upon their 
 tete-a-tete could not possibly have been more disagree 
 able and unwelcome to the young man than it was. 
 But the 'fixed rules of society/ which, according to 
 
A MORNING GAME 95 
 
 one's opinion, as we remember, makes us such a lot 
 of hypocrites, to another's keeps much selfishness in 
 check required a gracious reception of his sister-in- 
 law's guests; and his manner was therefore the quin 
 tessence of cordiality as he came forward to greet 
 them. 
 
 There was no need of further introductions, for the 
 rest of the party had all met before ; so after the usual 
 handshakings, 'so pleased,' et cetera, had been indulged 
 in, Jack, whose equilibrium was by now quite restored, 
 expressed the polite hope that they were not interrupt 
 ing the game. 
 
 "O, not at all !" replied their host. "We had just 
 finished a sort of practice game, and to dedicate the 
 ground, which, by the way, isn't half bad. Join us, 
 won't you? I feel sure Miss Warfield will be as 
 pleased to have you do so as myself;" which latter 
 assertion, truthfully interpreted, would have read, not 
 at all. 
 
 "I shall be simply delighted," put in the young girl 
 warmly. "It will seem like old times to have a game 
 with you again, Hattie." 
 
 "But I haven't improved one bit, Gertie," returned 
 her friend, modestly hesitating to accept, "and I'm 
 afraid I'll only spoil the game for the rest." 
 
 "O, no you won't; you'll have Mr. Nichols for a 
 partner, and he's such a magnificent player, that he'll 
 carry you right along to victory." 
 
 "Well, I'm sure you're both awfully kind," returned 
 
96 BY EARTHQUAKE AND FIRE 
 
 the girl. "Shall we play, Jack?" now turning to her 
 brother for approval; who, though apparently ab 
 sorbed for the moment in the nice things he was say 
 ing to Mrs. Nichols about her house and its surround 
 ings, had lost not a word of the conversation between 
 the others, and had moreover been elevated to the 
 seventh heaven by Gertrude's implied selection of him 
 self as a partner for the proposed game ; even daring 
 to indulge the ungrounded hope that the wish might 
 have suggested the thought. 
 
 "Don't think of refusing, Sis !" was the emphatic 
 answer. "Such tempting invitations are far too much 
 like angel's visits for that." Then, with an opportune 
 recollection of the requirements of good breeding, he 
 offered quickly, "But won't you take my place, Mrs. 
 Nichols?" 
 
 "O, no; take mine, please," put in his sister, gen 
 erously. "It will be so much more interesting a game 
 if you will, I know." 
 
 "Neither, thanks," refused their hostess, politely, 
 but with a decisiveness which brooked of no further 
 urging, and a silencing nod to Gertrude, who was be 
 ginning in the same strain. "Now that I have you all 
 off my hands," she added, jokingly, "I shall try to 
 carry out my good intentions of the morning. There's 
 a certain road paved with such, you know, but / aim to 
 furnish as few of the cobbles as possible. Ta-ta ; enjoy 
 yourselves !" finished the hospitable little woman, gra 
 ciously, as she turned and tripped gaily back to the 
 house. 
 
A MORNING GAME 97 
 
 A convenient hammock had already tempted Miss 
 Lindsay to a moment's loll; and as their host excused 
 himself and returned to the porch for the additional 
 paraphernalia needed, Jack, in his most fascinating, 
 courtly way, motioned his sister's friend to a near-by 
 settee, saying, "Do rest a moment, Miss Warfield;" 
 and blessing his lucky stars for so favoring an oppor 
 tunity, with a deferential, "may I be permitted?" took 
 his place beside the girl, and opened the conversation 
 by remarking that he was pleased to learn of her in 
 terest in Art. "Sister and I spend a good deal of time 
 with Nature," said he, "and I hope you will favor us 
 with your company on many of our rambles; there's 
 no lack of subjects around here." 
 
 "And exquisite ones, too !" added the girl, her beau 
 tiful face lit with enthusiasm at once, for this was a 
 favorite topic. "It's the most entrancing spot I ever 
 was in, without a single exception; and the trip up 
 was the treat of a lifetime. I have quite a portfolio 
 of sketches already," she informed him, "and I think 
 the crowning one was the sunrise of this morning; it 
 was perfectly grand! Thanks for your kind invitation, 
 Mr. Lindsay; I shall certainly be most happy to ac 
 cept." 
 
 "You don't mean to tell me that you're such an 
 early riser as all that, Miss Warfield?" ejaculated her 
 companion, in feigned horror. 
 
 "O, it's not habitual, I assure you," laughed the girl, 
 
98 BY EARTHQUAKE AND FIRE 
 
 "and I shall probably not be so ambitious again all 
 Summer ; but I did want to do the very first one, don't 
 you know." 
 
 Much to Jack Lindsay's regret, of course, the con 
 versation was here cut short by the return of their host, 
 and taking their mallets and balls the players at once 
 lined up for the knock-off, which, to the surprise of 
 all, gave to Miss Lindsay the opening play. 
 
 "O, don't make me go first," pleaded the girl, in un 
 feigned distress. "I need some balls to play on. 
 Gertie, dear, won't you take my place? You don't 
 need any help." 
 
 "All right," assented the other, in her usual bright, 
 cheery, obliging way ; adding, "I'm willing, if the gen 
 tlemen are. Or would it be better, perhaps, to have 
 your brother begin?" she questioned. "That will keep 
 the colors in stake rotation, you see, and give you the 
 very last play, with a chance at us all." 
 
 "That suits me to a T. Jack, will you commence, 
 please?" 
 
 "Avec beaucoup de plaisir, Mademoiselle/' returned 
 the brother, Frenchily, with an appropriately Alphon- 
 sian bow ; and at once placing his ball in position, sent 
 it neatly through the first two arches. 
 
 Taking advantage of the extra stroke to which this 
 feat entitled him for the rules governing the game 
 at that time were more liberal in some respects than 
 those adopted later with the first, the young man 
 succeeded in placing himself in such position before 
 
A MORNING GAME 99 
 
 the side arch, that with the second, the ball was sent 
 through and into position for the cage in the center. 
 "Well done, Mr. Lindsay !" exclaimed Gertie, with the 
 evident pride and satisfaction felt in a proficient part 
 ner ; adding, with confidence, "and you'll clear that all 
 right, too" ; while Hattie, whose pride in her brother's 
 skill caused her for the moment almost to lose sight of 
 the fact that he was an opponent, cried out : "Good for 
 you, Jack!" 
 
 "Ever going to stop?" drawled out Clayton, lan 
 guidly, as he dropped down beside his waiting ball, in 
 feigned weariness. "Let me know when my turn 
 comes ; I'll take a little nap in the meantime." 
 
 "O, you won't have long to wait ; not time for more 
 than forty winks ;" laughed the successful player. "I'll 
 just get into position for that other wicket, with your 
 permission as he cleared the cage by a scratch and 
 then wait for company; it's getting a trifle lonesome 
 down here." And with a final, light stroke, he had 
 left his ball in readiness for its next using, but a few 
 inches back of side arch number two to the right. 
 
 "Wake up, old man; it's your turn now," he then 
 called. At which the other arose, glanced consider 
 ingly at the position of his opponent for a moment, 
 placed his ball, and with a swinging stroke cleared the 
 two arches as the first player had done before him, and 
 in addition, sent it spinning down the field, to stop in 
 an almost straight line with the other's and scarcely 
 six feet away. Two successive plays were now his, 
 
100 BY EARTHQUAKE AND FIRE 
 
 but one of which was needed to strike the little red 
 ball lying so temptingly and promisingly behind the 
 enemy's arch. "Shall I roquet or croquet, Miss Lind 
 say?" he asked. 
 
 "O, don't ask me, Mr. Nichols, for goodness sake !" 
 replied his partner, helplessly. "I'm very sure you 
 know a whole lot better than I what to do; only" she 
 cautioned wisely "don't leave him there for Gertie to 
 play on ; she comes next, you know." 
 
 "Well, I'll roquet then," said the man, "so as to get 
 the most good out of my strokes." And placing his 
 own ball at the left and a thought ahead of Jack Lind 
 say's, one clever stroke sent him into position for the 
 arch, with his opponent in close range for use after 
 it should have been made. Coming through and strik 
 ing the little red again, he bowled it along with his 
 own for a ways as he aimed for position, went through 
 the cage, struck it again, and almost unexpectedly to 
 himself even, he, in turn, now rolled to a possible posi 
 tion before side arch number two. 
 
 "O, do you really think you can make it, Mr. 
 Nichols?" inquired his partner, excitedly; as she 
 scanned the difficult situation with apprehension. 
 "Good! good! he's done it!" she cried with joy a mo 
 ment later; as the ball rolled through the doubtful 
 wicket sideways, all but grazing it ; stopping less than 
 two inches on the other side. 
 
 "Now do put Jack out of the way," she urged. 
 "Don't leave him there for Gertie; she'll come right 
 
A MORNING GAME 101 
 
 down and put him into position again; see if she 
 doesn't." But the left of the wicket was between the 
 specified balls, and the most that her partner's remain 
 ing play could accomplish was to gain a position before 
 the lower center arches ; thus leaving both his own ball 
 and the little red, good targets for the next player, 
 Gertrude. 
 
 With but little apparent effort, the girl took the 
 first arches, skimmed down the field and made her 
 partner's ball, all with one stroke. Next, calculating 
 to a nicety the distance and slant to his next arch with 
 her eye, she stooped, and holding their balls firmly to 
 gether, hammered them yet more close with a few 
 smart raps of her mallet; then rising and pressing 
 steadily upon her own with her slender foot, struck 
 the ball a quick, hard, well-directed blow; croqueting 
 her partner not only into position as her sanguine 
 friend had prophesied but clear through his arch. 
 Turning, the girl now made a play for their opponent's 
 ball; hit it, croqueted it off the field, to the left, and 
 with an exceptionally successful stroke, even for her, 
 finished the play by driving her own ball back up the 
 field; following quickly to take her place beside it as 
 it came to a standstill squarely in position, some four 
 feet back of its own arch. 
 
 "Brava!" 
 
 "Capital!" 
 
 "Fine!" chorused the others; Hattie Lindsay add 
 ing, "at your old tricks still, I see" ; as she took her 
 place to begin. 
 
102 BY EARTHQUAKE AND FIRE 
 
 Clayton Nichols had by this time recovered and 
 placed his ball again upon the field ; and as his partner 
 raised her mallet to strike, he called out quickly, "Make 
 the two arches, Miss Lindsay, and use your strokes to 
 come down here by me; I want your ball to use; be 
 sides, it wont do much good for you to loiter around 
 that neighborhood while Miss Warfield's there." 
 
 Lowering her mallet, the girl burst into a hearty 
 laugh, as she replied, "Well, it's very evident you've 
 never played croquet with me before, Mr. Nichols. 
 Why, I was never known to make two arches at once, 
 was I Jack? In fact, I'm not real sure that I ever 
 got through one even, on the first try. I'll do my very 
 best, though," she finished, seriously. 
 
 But although the ball sat squarely in the center and 
 her aim seemed true, the mallet somehow swerved as 
 she landed a ringing blow; and the ball, striking the 
 wicket, bounced back with a thud against the stake. 
 
 "Booby, as usual !" she exclaimed with vexation and 
 disgust. "Oh, you can't count on any help from me, 
 Mr. Nichols; I just knew I'd spoil the game." 
 
 As the unmistakable quiver in the mortified girl's 
 voice smote on her ear, Gertie stepped quickly to her 
 side, and slipping an arm tenderly about her waist for 
 a moment, whispered soothingly, "Don't mind, dear ; 
 you'll make them both next time." Then turning to 
 Clayton, who at that moment came hastening after 
 his ball as it bounded up the field and rolled over 
 beside her own, just touching it, she demanded, "What 
 
A MORNING GAME 103 
 
 are you doing up this way, sir ? You belong down at 
 the other end." 
 
 "O, I just want to be in good company for a little," 
 replied the young man ; continuing, "that blue ball 
 looks very tempting; what shall I do with it, Miss 
 Lindsay?" For he had been struck by Gertie's sweet 
 act of sympathy, and wished to do his part also, toward 
 lessening his partner's chagrin at failure, by again de 
 ferring to her opinion. 
 
 "Take it along and use it since you can't have mine," 
 pouted the girl, gloomily. Then brightening: "But 
 no; she'll be right down by Jack again if you do that, 
 won't she? Why treat her as she did you; put her 
 off the field," she laughed. 
 
 "Well, if I must, here goes !" returned her well in 
 structed partner. And Gertie's ball now went spinning 
 out beyond the limits; while turning to its owner he 
 asked half-apologetically as though really regretting 
 the necessity for the damaging play, "No favors ; 
 wasn't that the agreement?" 
 
 "No apologies necessary, Mr. Nichols," replied Ger 
 tie; "friendship has ceased for the time being, you 
 know; it's war to the death!" And as she hurried 
 across the field to hunt her ball, the girl called back 
 with a playful threatening, "I'll do as much for you 
 again the first chance I get ; see if 1 don't." 
 
 True or shall we say due to Gertie's inspiriting 
 prediction, for 'kind words never die' with Hattie 
 Lindsay's next play, the opening arches were cleared : 
 
104 BY EARTHQUAKE AND FIRE 
 
 and once on the field the girl's execution was not 
 always as poor as the beginning had threatened. 
 
 The game was now well on, and with the one excep 
 tion of herself, might justly have been termed a battle 
 of giants ; while even her lack of skill was almost more 
 than offset by the extraordinary ability of her partner ; 
 of whom her friend had but truthfully said, that he 
 played a magnificent game. 
 
 Up and down and across the field raced the com 
 batants, chasing and hammering each other, asking 
 and showing no quarter; while frequent shouts of, 
 
 "Crack shot !" 
 
 "Touched !" 
 
 "Flinched !" 
 
 "Put her out!" 
 
 "Good! good!" 
 
 "Didn't move six inches!" 
 
 "Dead ball!" 
 
 "Too far in!" and other pertinent exclamations, 
 commendatory, condemnatory or advisory, as the situ 
 ation at hand evoked, gave evidence of the excitement 
 under which the players were now laboring. 
 
 Having won the honor of first rover, Gertie, with 
 her little blue ball, wrought much havoc in the enemy's 
 camp for a time; but an unexpectedly lucky stroke of 
 her friend's, suddenly drove her against the stake, and 
 out; thus ending her destructively useful career, and 
 leaving her sorry partner to carry on the unequal con 
 test alone. 
 
A MORNING GAME 105 
 
 Slowly up the field continued the remaining players, 
 now one, now another making some trifling advance; 
 but not a position was gained nor an arch cleared, 
 without at least, a scrimmage, and oftener a hard 
 fought battle ; until for the little red Jack Lindsay's 
 there remained but the final center arches and the 
 home stake; with the sister's black, only one point 
 behind, in position at the last arch to the left. 
 
 And now, aimed straight for the latter, came Clay 
 ton's white rover, struck with terrific force, bounding 
 up the field from the extreme lower righthand corner, 
 to which the other man had driven it but an instant 
 before. Breathless, the players watched its rapid, un 
 swerving course past arches and cage, until its sting 
 ing blow sent the intended ball well through the de 
 sired arch ; the impact causing it to fly clear over and 
 spend what of its strength yet remained, losing itself 
 beyond the limits. 
 
 "Whew, Nichols, but that was a stunner !" burst out 
 Jack. "I had no idea you could make it!" 
 
 "Splendid!" exclaimed Gertie; beaming with ill-con 
 cealed pride in the young man's achievement, and a 
 pleasure that could only have been equalled by the 
 natural additional satisfaction felt had he been playing 
 upon her side. 
 
 "It was a pretty lucky shot," admitted Clayton, mod 
 estly; adding dubiously, "but we're not out of the 
 woods yet by any means. Now make your brother's 
 
106 BY EARTHQUAKE AND FIRE 
 
 ball, Miss Lindsay" as his partner began to play 
 "and the two shots will put you in position and take 
 you through the arch. You can do "it!" he added en 
 couragingly, as the girl, now fairly trembling with ner 
 vous excitement, hesitated to attempt the eight or ten 
 feet of space which lay between them. "Now ; strike 
 hard!" he finished. 
 
 But once more, her mallet swerved; and the blow, 
 which should have struck the very middle of the ball 
 for the accomplishment of her partner's wish, feebly 
 hit the side; rolling it along for a couple of feet, to 
 settle most aggravatingly back again, fully half the 
 distance. 
 
 If the reader as we hope still has in mind our 
 early introduction, he will recall that Clayton Nichols' 
 nature was a very earnest one. While no one could 
 be a more graceful loser than himself, yet even in so 
 simple a matter as a game like this, where there was 
 really nothing at stake, he played to win. It was 
 therefore only by a mighty effort that he politely re 
 pressed a groan, as the main force of his partner's 
 blow was expended upon the underlying ground; but 
 his feelings found partial vent in an uncontrollable, 
 doleful, "Well, I guess the jig's up, Lindsay"; fol 
 lowed by a quick apology to the ladies for his in 
 advertent lapse into slang. 
 
 "O, the game's not ours yet by a good deal," re 
 turned the other; "there's surely not much to envy in 
 our position." 
 
A MORNING GAME 107 
 
 And this assertion was only too true ; for Jack Lind 
 say's ball lay so far to the right and so little back of 
 the arch, that to clear it would require little short of a 
 miracle. For a moment the young man studied the 
 situation. To merely secure a better position at this 
 stage, as he could have done, would be useless, for 
 the white rover would have no difficulty in dislodging 
 him at the next play. There was no alternative; the 
 arch must be made if possible, attempted at least. It 
 was a ticklish play ; too hard a stroke would be sure 
 to send the ball either beyond, or against the wire ; so 
 with a very cautious one, Jack sent it rolling gently 
 along. But the blow had lacked just a fraction of 
 sufficiency, and the little red came to a most exasper 
 ating halt underneath the arch. 
 
 "O, it must be through!" exclaimed Gertie who, 
 though out of the game and debarred from giving 
 advice, still retained her mallet and dropping ex 
 citedly to her knees the girl carefully spanned the 
 back of the wicket with its handle ; but alas ! the ball 
 was just grazed, and she arose with a deep sigh of 
 disappointment ; exclaiming, "We're lost for sure, Mr. 
 Lindsay !" 
 
 "That's what you are, Miss Warfield," broke in 
 Clayton, laughingly, as with the white rover he at 
 once struck the little red, and croquetting it clear off 
 the field, turned, aimed for and hit his partner's ball. 
 
 The hardly contested game was now practically 
 over, for with one stroke, the young man then placed 
 
108 BY EARTHQUAKE AND FIRE 
 
 this latter in absolutely certain position back of its 
 arch, while with the other he rolled his own ball in 
 front of it for his partner's benefit ; and as though to 
 make amends for her several bad breaks during the 
 game, the girl now covered herself with glory at the 
 last; for clearing the two arches at one play her 
 ball sending that of her partner before it through the 
 last she succeeded in driving them both home to the 
 stake before another play to him gave Jack Lindsay a 
 fighting chance to re-enter the contest. 
 
 "Well 'twas a glorious victory!" declared he, com 
 ing quickly up the field to shake hands with his op 
 ponents" ; and I sincerely congratulate you both ; al 
 though heartily ashamed of myself for not having 
 saved the day for Miss Warfield at last." 
 
 "Please don't feel badly about that, Mr. Lindsay" ; 
 said Gertie, sweetly; "/ certainly don't. With such, 
 opposition and the odds against you as they were for 
 so long, no one could possibly have reflected more 
 glory upon our side than you did, and then we shall 
 have many opportunities to redeem ourselves, I hope." 
 
 "The credit belongs all to your good sister," put in 
 Mr. Nichols generously ; "if she had not put your won 
 derful partner out of the game so early, we could 
 never have beaten you. Why it isn't possible we've 
 been playing all that time !" he concluded in surprise ; 
 looking at his watch, as the bell rang for luncheon. 
 "Stay and have a bite with us, won't you?" 
 
 "O, no, thanks!" declined Miss Lindsay, with de- 
 
A MORNING GAME 109 
 
 ciding emphasis; "we must get home and make our 
 peace with Mamma. We can't thank you enough 
 though, for this delightful morning. Au revoir" 
 waved the retreating girl, calling back as she went : 
 "We'll be down to see those sketches this evening, 
 Gertie." 
 
CHAPTER VI. 
 
 GERTRUDE WARFIELD. 
 
 "She inspired love as naturally as the thirst 
 ing Earth draws to itself showers of refresh 
 ment from the moisture-laden clouds." 
 
 Where first impressions are lasting they are but 
 confirmed, strengthened and deepened by further ac 
 quaintance. Certainly Jack Lindsay's wildly flattering- 
 ones at his first glimpse of Gertrude Warfield, were 
 in nowise lessened by the morning's association on 
 the croquet field with the charming girl; while the 
 evening call so thoughtfully arranged for his especial 
 benefit by the considerate sister tended but to the 
 further deepening of his already mad infatuation. 
 One thing, however, troubled him for it is not given 
 to mortals to know the joy of unalloyed bliss. They had 
 accepted Mrs. Nichols' neighborly invitation to return 
 home with herself and brother-in-law, in the 'Alice,' 
 having preferred walking to the Armstrong cottage to 
 using their own boat, and in all the conversation re 
 garding the new arrival which we may reasonably 
 conclude was not a little Mrs. Nichols, so it seemed 
 to him, had aimed to create the impression, true or 
 false, that they were on terms of exceeding great 
 intimacy with her. Could it be that there was any- 
 
GERTRUDE WARFIELD 111 
 
 thing between the girl and Clayton, he wondered. "It 
 would be the most natural thing in the world, of 
 course," so he told himself ; "for what living man could 
 even once meet her and not lose both head and heart." 
 At the dread thought of such a possibility, cold, creepy 
 shivers immediately began worming their way up and 
 down his spine. He promised himself to ask Sis, as 
 soon as they should reach home; she was perhaps 
 posted on the subject, and he must know at once. 
 Thus did he bridle his impatience for the moment. 
 But the evening at Mrs. Armstrong's had naturally 
 been such a delightful one that it had been found hard 
 to leave ; it was therefore nearing the Vee sma' hours 
 when home was reached; and suffering from a severe 
 headache, his sister had immediately retired, leaving 
 him to the unsatisfactory companionship of his doubts 
 and fears. There was nothing to be done therefore, 
 but wait with such scant patience as he could now 
 muster until their particular hour for confidential 
 confabs, breakfast time; so getting into a jacket and 
 slippers, Jack Lindsay settled down in his favorite re 
 clining chair by the open window, for a solacing pipe 
 ful ere following her example. As he smoked, and 
 the cobwebs which had been fastening themselves upon 
 his mind gradually loosened and floated away, doubts 
 and fears going with them gave place to an exhaustive 
 review of the sweet day just closed; the happiest, and 
 as he felt it also to be, the most eventful in his whole 
 life; for in it love, deep and virile, had at last sprung 
 
112 BY EARTHQUAKE AND FIRE 
 
 into existence within him. "Surely it will be re 
 turned/' was his confident thought; "and under the 
 inspiration of such a love, what would there be that he 
 dared not undertake; what was there that he could 
 not accomplish? O, how hard he would work! he 
 would make a name for himself, for her precious 
 thought ! But he must have her with him ; the drudg 
 ery of Art would be no longer drudgery with her dear 
 companionship to brighten the leisure hours. Yes, 
 he must manage in some way to take her and Sis back 
 with him. Separation? Impossible! The mere 
 thought was a dagger thrust ! True, he was not in a 
 position to marry at once, but they were both young 
 enough to wait, and that happiest day could well be 
 postponed awhile. The balance of his stay at home 
 now, he felt, would be all too short for anything but 
 the cultivating of a deep friendship that firm root of 
 love's beautiful plant. But in Paris, dear, witching, 
 amorous Paris, where every breath inhaled was 
 charged and surcharged with love and romance, there 
 he would woo and win this lovely being, from whose 
 glorious eyes the very stars at which he gazed must 
 have borrowed their brilliancy, and the moonbeams 
 their soft effulgence." His was no mild case, it will be 
 observed; he had been deeply inoculated and it had 
 taken most thoroughly. 
 
 The young man's unusually early appearance for 
 breakfast next morning was inexplicable to his sister, 
 until, the last course having been served and the maid 
 
GERTRUDE WARFIELD 113 
 
 dismissed, he quickly relieved both hers and his own 
 mind, by commencing, "Where did Miss Warfield meet 
 the Nichols family, Sis, and have they been long 
 acquainted ?" 
 
 Ah ! the cat was out of the bag at last ! It had been 
 this then, upon his mind, and not the rarebit of the 
 evening before upon his stomach as she had feared 
 which had curtailed her dear brother's sleep. "Much 
 less serious," was the girl's amused thought, as she 
 replied : "Why, they met at some watering place or 
 other several Summers ago, and the families she was 
 always with the Armstrongs, you know have been 
 very intimate ever since. Mr. George Nichols had 
 been an acquaintance of Margaret's father in his life 
 time, I believe. I remember hearing the girls talk 
 about what a grand time they had had that vacation, 
 after we all got back to school again, and Margaret 
 has teased Gertie about Clayton, more or less ever 
 since ; but I hardly believe there's anything in it. What 
 do you think of her, Jack?" 
 
 "Sis," came the quick reply, "she's the most ex 
 quisitely beautiful, the most charming, the most fas 
 cinating, positively the most irresistible girl I ever met. 
 She's slipped right into my heart just as you say she 
 does into everybody's. In fact, Sis, I'm in love, des 
 perately in love, and I want you to help me." 
 
 "What! again, Jack?" exclaimed his sister in un 
 concealed surprise. For she remembered that when 
 growing up, her brother had been known as one of 
 
114 BY EARTHQUAKE AND FIRE 
 
 those ultra-susceptible chaps whose spare time seemed 
 all to be taken up falling either in, or out of love; it 
 had been a standing joke in the family. Probably no 
 other youth in Denver at the time could have boasted 
 a larger collection of tiny, daintily perfumed handker 
 chiefs and odd party gloves, little faded flowers, etc., 
 than he ; so she continued teasingly, "How about Belle, 
 and Marion, and Stella, and " 
 
 "Calf loves, all of them; over and forgotten long 
 ago!" broke in her brother, with marked displeasure 
 both in tone and manner, "and I shouldn't think you'd 
 be so mean as to mention them in a connection like 
 this, Hattie. The trouble is you don't seem to realize 
 that I'm grown up; a fellow's folks never do," he 
 finished, disgustedly. 
 
 Now Jack Lindsay only called his sister by her full 
 and given name when he was displeased. Sis was his 
 pet name for her, and the girl therefore hastened to 
 mollify him ; for she had not the least wish or intention 
 of wounding his feelings, which she now saw were 
 really serious. 
 
 "Forgive me, Jack," she begged sweetly; reaching 
 over and offering him her hand. You know I was 
 only joking, don't you? and wouldn't hurt you for 
 anything. What is there that I can do for you ?" 
 
 "I'm the one to apologize," humbly returned the 
 young man, as they clasped hands; his good humor 
 now fully restored by her soft answer. "But it's as I 
 told you, Sis, and the jealous fear that there might be 
 
GERTRUDE WARFIELD 115 
 
 at least an understanding between her and Clayton 
 Nichols, has put me out of sorts, I guess, and made 
 me a little touchy this morning. I am no longer a 
 boy, sister," he went on very earnestly, after a mo 
 ment's thoughtful pause. "Man's most blessed-heritage, 
 the instinct of home and family, of late stirs within 
 me, but until today I have met no one whom I could 
 wish to have share that happy state with me. Your 
 sweet friend meets all the requirements of my heart 
 in this respect, therefore I love her, and loving her 
 wish, yes long to have her for my wife. Of course, I 
 should not marry for a while, for which reason, also 
 because my time here will now be so short, I would 
 rather not tell her of this at present; but if she and 
 you could return with me, I should have no fears 
 whatever about being able to win her love. Does she 
 intend pursuing her art studies any further ?" 
 
 "I really don't know, Jack, but with her talent it 
 would be a great shame if she didn't, I think." 
 
 "It certainly would, Sis, so I want you to find out 
 what her ideas on the subject are, and convert her to 
 yours if necessary." 
 
 "But there's almost no reason to hope for my going 
 over with you, Jack; we might bring Mamma around, 
 but Papa, I'm afraid, never'' 
 
 "Never's a long day, Sis," returned the young man, 
 "and our father is not an easy man to convince against 
 his will, I admit; however, it shall not be for lack of 
 persuasive eloquence upon my part if I don't bring 
 
116 BY EARTHQUAKE AND FIRE 
 
 him, too, around to my way of thinking yet. I can 
 trust you with my secret?" he asked, anxiously, as 
 they arose to separate; "and count upon your help?" 
 
 "Sure, Jack," replied the devoted sister, with a 
 heartiness which assured her prompt and best efforts 
 being put forth for the furthering of her brother's 
 interests. Nor was the confidence which her words 
 inspired misplaced; for her campaign of missionary 
 work was inaugurated that very afternoon at Mrs. 
 Armstrong's Tea. 
 
 "You've made wonderful progress in your work the 
 last year, Gertie," she remarked politically to her 
 friend ; as they two found themselves separated for a 
 moment from the rest of the company. "Those sketches 
 coming up are very fine. Jack says they show great 
 talent. You're not going to stop your studies now, I 
 hope." 
 
 "O, no indeed!" was the gratifying reply; "I'm 
 much too fond of them for that. When we get back 
 to the city I intend to put myself under competent 
 instruction again. Who do you take from?" 
 
 "Nobody but Mamma of late, and then of course 
 brother's been a great help to me for the last few 
 months. But he goes back to Paris soon, you know. 
 We're trying to persuade Papa to let me go with 
 him; and I'm just dying to. O, Gertie, I wish you'd 
 go with us !" she added impetuously, as though the 
 thought had but then first entered her mind. "What 
 glorious times you and I could have over there to 
 gether!" 
 
GERTRUDE WARFIELD 117 
 
 "I've long had an ambition to study in that 
 artistic atmosphere and probably shall, some day," 
 returned her friend ; continuing politely, "and it would 
 be perfectly lovely to be there with you, Hattie, too; 
 but I couldn't go this Fall, for Aunt Nellie brings 
 Margaret and me out in October, you know, and we 
 may leave for Europe soon after that so as to give her 
 the whole Winter in the South of France. I do hope you 
 decide to go though, for it would be the most delight 
 ful anticipation to look forward to seeing you in Paris 
 when we get there. I might decide to stay with you 
 for a year or two of study after our tour's finished; 
 who knows? I really have no plans for the future 
 though beyond that, as yet" ; concluded the girl. 
 
 Now while his sister's report of this interview was 
 altogether void of promise for the immediate future, 
 it nevertheless was not without encouragement for 
 Jack Lindsay, and was responsible for the unusually 
 forceful plea made to his father over their after-din 
 ner coffee and cigars that evening ; which plea, though 
 also seemingly barren of results, was far from dis 
 heartening to the persevering young man, since an 
 easy victory in this case was beyond expectation. 
 
 Now Dr. Hiram Lindsay was a self-made man and 
 so successful a physician that he might be justly proud 
 of his job. He was intensely practical, and quite set in 
 his opinions. While he did not in the least disparage 
 the artistic abilities of his wife but was in fact very 
 
118 BY EARTHQUAKE AND FIRE 
 
 proud of these, yet as a profession for a man, Art came 
 extremely near to inspiring his contempt, for he re 
 garded the occupation as altogether too effeminate a 
 calling for the sterner sex; it being always associated 
 in his mind with a luxuriously appointed boudoir, and a 
 curled, perfumed dandy languidly idling at my lady's 
 feet, dispensing pensive sighs and killing glances, 
 while amorously warbling senseless love ditties to the 
 twang of his guitar. And no amount of argument as 
 to the mighty power of many of the world's great 
 masterpieces to educate and uplift, could reconcile him 
 to his son's having adopted it. It had moreover been 
 a great disappointment to the able M. D. that the boy 
 had not followed in his footsteps; but he was an in 
 dulgent parent, and too wise an one, withal, to force 
 upon him a profession for which he had a positive 
 distaste. He had therefore generously secured for 
 Jack the best teaching obtainable and was now much 
 gratified at the favorable notice his work was begin 
 ning to attract. His great fondness for the society of 
 his children was his sole reason for objecting to the 
 daughter's also going abroad, as the brother had been 
 urging with more or less insistence all during his visit 
 home; for he was extremely fond of his sister, and it 
 was not merely as a pretext or possibility for her 
 friend's prospective society that he now desired hers. 
 The other girl's intended visit to Paris in the near 
 future, however, seemed now to make it imperative that 
 she be there with him ; so his persuasive eloquence to 
 
GERTRUDE WARFIELD 119 
 
 which hers was of course always added was therefore 
 brought to bear with still greater frequency and earn 
 estness upon both parents; until, a week later, their 
 mother having been won over and into a dependable 
 ally, the father's consent was naturally not long de 
 layed. 
 
 How shall we tell of the blissful days of blissful 
 anticipation which now followed for the hopeful, nay 
 more, confident" lover. Days possible only in the 
 blessed Springtime of life, when hearts are young 
 and carefree, and hope beats high within the breast. 
 Ere the heart-educating illusions of life have been dis 
 pelled by its heart-numbing realisations; its heart 
 breaking experiences. The sun shone, the birds sang, 
 the flowers bloomed just as before ; but for Jack Lind 
 say, life had never until then contained real brightness 
 or melody or sweet perfume. The benignant face of 
 external Nature seemed to have taken on a more ex 
 pansive smile in order to reflect within it the happy 
 one illumining his very soul. 
 
 Now the Armstrong Tea and the Nichols' House- 
 warming, both of which occurred within a few days 
 after Gertrude Warfield's arrival at the lake, sufficed 
 to introduce her to the entire colony; and as every 
 body met everybody else practically every day, inti 
 mate acquaintance was a matter of but a short time. 
 The girl was soon in demand everywhere; for she 
 possessed in large degree that particular quality of 
 the really charming woman ; the power to attract and 
 
120 BY EARTHQUAKE AND FIRE 
 
 attach to herself those of both sexes and all ages. She 
 inspired love as naturally as the thirsting earth draws 
 to itself showers of refreshment from the moisture- 
 laden clouds, and radiated it forth again in scattered 
 happiness, as insensibly and steadily as the sunbeams, 
 to cheer and bless; it was good just to be near her. 
 The secret of it all lay in her paramount consideration 
 for others. Selfishness withers and dies beneath Cal 
 vary; and like her acknowledged Lord, in Gertie's 
 thoughts, self came last if at all. Yet she marveled at 
 the universal kindness which met her on every hand. 
 "Every one is so lovely to me," was her constant, 
 plaint; and her life was a daily thanksgiving to God 
 for His great goodness to her in this respect. Not 
 that there was any morbid sanctimoniousness about 
 the girl; no one could be fonder of life and all its 
 legitimate pleasures than she; while the expression 
 frequently upon her lips, 'the funny part of it was/ 
 showed her quickness to detect and enjoy a humorous 
 situation. No, Gertrude Warfield was simply a re 
 freshing expression of harmony; of well-rounded 
 character ; of a being whom heredity, environment and 
 possibly fortunate education had conspired to make in 
 perfect accord with itself, with its Maker. It is not 
 surprising therefore, that she was not only the ad 
 mitted favorite of the camp in a very short time, but 
 the, at least, tacitly admitted belle besides. Had she 
 been a coquette, how many hearts might she have 
 broken during that first brief Summer season; how 
 
GERTRUDE WARFIELD 121 
 
 many scalps been dangling from her belt. Or had she 
 been even that less harmful type of the same species, 
 a mere flirt, how many might she have drawn to her 
 feet; for the girl was as Jack Lindsay had so em 
 phatically declared, positively irresistible. 
 
 Like all well-bred girls, Gertrude was at perfect 
 ease in society, and in a mixed company overflowed 
 with friendliness ; not distant even with men. Alone 
 with young ones, however, and this encouraging 
 friendliness was immediately supplanted by the still 
 more charming shyness and reserve of manner which 
 took possession of her; unconsciously challenging to 
 pursuit, for the treasure we prize must be hard to be 
 won, and making of her the truly fascinating young 
 person that she was. 
 
 But though the girl was neither a coquette nor a 
 flirt for with her considerate nature to have been 
 either were impossible, she was still what the perfect 
 harmony of her nature of which we have spoken re 
 quired ; a real, live, flesh-and-blood girl, whose natural 
 instincts and destiny were wifehood, motherhood; and 
 to whom the attentions of the opposite sex were 
 therefore, as ordained, pleasing. And such attentions 
 were now literally showered upon her. Was it a ride, 
 a drive, a climb, a row, a picnic, a lawn or croquet or 
 house party, or what not, this unassuming slip of a 
 girl would soon find herself the center of attraction, 
 with well on to a dozen cavaliers, oftentimes, dancing 
 attendance, and vieing with each other for the honor 
 
122 BY EARTHQUAKE AND FIRE 
 
 and privilege of acting as escort or partner, with the 
 coveted opportunities thus presented for basking in 
 her smiles. Was it an evening of dancing, the pro 
 gramme was never long enough to accommodate all 
 aspirants had she even danced continuously. 
 
 All these proffered attentions were accepted with 
 the same apparent pleasure and impartiality, and her 
 favors distributed in the same equal ratio. All, did 
 we say? No, not all. There was one although he 
 knew it not whose gallantries and attentions always 
 caused a deeper throb; a throb of ecstacy; and whom 
 the awakened girl now realized of a sudden, had 'long 
 before, taught her heart the song of olden wonder, 
 her pulse the long, sweet thrill of rapture, and whose 
 name her dying lips would call' ; for now 'twas only he 
 who left her lonelier than when he came, and her heart 
 was as truly his although no word of love had yet 
 passed between them as though the beautiful solitaire 
 which he drew nightly from its hiding place to inspect 
 and admire, already glistened upon her hand. There 
 were uncertain, introspective moments when the mod 
 est young girl questioned with herself whether this 
 were not an unmaidenly action; but the result was al 
 ways the same, a failure to find any abiding reason for 
 self-reproach. For love is not solely, indeed perhaps 
 least of all, is it a language of words, nor does it re 
 quire age or experience to understand its many tokens ; 
 since in matters of the heart, a young girl is said to be 
 endowed with the prescience of a God. A glance of 
 
GERTRUDE WARFIELD 123 
 
 the eye, a tone of the voice, a clasp of the hand, these 
 all may contain the concentrated essence of thousands 
 of spoken or written words upon the subject, and 
 speak even more quickly and convincingly to the 
 heart. Of such, coupled with an unmistakable fond 
 ness for her society, there had already been enough 
 to whisper softly of Clayton Nichols' untold love; but 
 had there still been a lingering doubt, there was al 
 ways the unused boat, the 'Gertie' to silence it. So, 
 knowing neither doubt nor fear, the willing girl rested 
 content in the happy consciousness of this welcome, 
 though as yet, unrevealed love; albeit, preserving 
 towards this young man the same impenetrable, shy 
 reserve of manner which characterized her intercourse 
 with all others. 
 
 But what of the lover ? With what emotions did he 
 contemplate this numerous rivalry for the notice and 
 regard of the girl he loved ? Now to Clayton Nichols, 
 Gertrude Warfield was, of course, the most delightful 
 and fascinating creature in the whole wide world ; and 
 yet, with that strange obtuseness peculiar to many 
 lovers even husbands he was not at all prepared for 
 the girl's excessive popularity. It had actually come 
 upon him something in the nature of a surprise that 
 so many other admirers had sprung up, equally keen 
 to discover her many charms; and as he noted, also 
 with surprise, her seemingly equal pleasure in the 
 attentions of these many, surprise was followed by the 
 disturbing fear that he might even have been over- 
 
124 BY EARTHQUAKE AND FIRE 
 
 confident as to the important place which he had occu 
 pied in the former schoolgirl's regard. He began 
 to tax himself with poor judgment for not having put 
 his fortunes to the test and learning his fate before 
 leaving Denver, ere these worrisome complications 
 had arisen. Then common sense would whisper that 
 'twas wiser thus ; a girl so young in experience should 
 be allowed a chance to learn her own heart; and the 
 downcast adorer would try to take this latter com 
 mon sense view of the case, feeling that while it 
 would of course make life no longer worth the living 
 should she ever care for another more than for himself, 
 yet this was certainly the less crucial time to learn the 
 heart-breaking truth, if learn it he must. 
 
 Now competition is as much the life of a love afYair 
 as of trade; so, fed and strengthened by doubt and 
 uncertainty as much perhaps as by the constant dis 
 covery of new and rarer charms, the young man's love 
 grew still deeper day by day, while kept in check, or 
 rather swayed for a time by the promptings of com 
 mon sense. Nor was the position of Jack Lindsay 
 scarcely a more enviable one than his own, for al 
 though a very deep and ardent friendship between the 
 girl and himself limited his aspirations for the time 
 being, he surely had as much if not more to dread 
 from the pretensions of other followers. Impelled 
 much, therefore, by what he considered the necessities 
 of the case, no less perhaps than longing to be as con 
 stantly as possible with and near her, his attentions to 
 
GERTRUDE WARFIELD 125 
 
 the sweet young girl were so assiduous, that Qayton 
 Nichols soon came to suspect in him his most danger 
 ous rival; a compliment the ambitious fellow would 
 have felt flattered indeed, to have known, but which 
 though unknown, was in truth most fully returned. 
 
 Both of these fortunate young men, however, pos 
 sessed a very great and a common advantage over all 
 others, in the loyal support and assistance of a most 
 devoted and determined sister, by the one, and an 
 equally devoted and determined sister-in-law by the 
 other. 
 
 To one who understood the game, knew what was 
 going on, the maneuvers of these opposing command 
 ers -in-chief of this momentous campaign for such 
 each unmistakably felt herself to be the maneuvers 
 of these, we say, would have been both interesting and 
 highly amusing, for it was a constant and truly femin 
 ine planning and scheming for possession of the un 
 suspecting cause of them all, that thereby the interests 
 of their respective candidates for her favor might be 
 advanced; and it is quite safe to assume that any ad 
 vantage, real or supposed, gained by the one side, 
 caused a proportionate amount of heart-burning on the 
 other. Not that any of this ever palpably rose to the 
 surface. The fixed rules of society' prevented that; 
 but it was none the less real even so. 
 
 The sketching tours, arranged with the greatest pos 
 sible frequency by the artistic brother and sister, were 
 their drawing card, and a most valuable asset did they 
 
126 BY EARTHQUAKE AND FIRE 
 
 appear, since from sheer love of a sketch, Gertrude 
 Warfield would willingly forego almost any other 
 form of entertainment. Then there was the incalcul 
 able benefit to be had from Jack's greater knowledge, 
 always so generously and gladly imparted in his most 
 engaging way ; and at such times there might be, fre 
 quently was of course, a suggestion necessary, or at 
 least advisable, as to the better way for the handling 
 of her pencil; which never could have been success 
 fully demonstrated without a moment's holding of 
 her dainty hand. There were also pleasant jaunts to 
 gether, either to this or that point of vantage for 
 sketching, or in search of promising subjects; and 
 delightful talks upon their mutually favorite topic. 
 All these impelling causes and more, drew the three 
 much together and gave birth to a most charming in 
 timacy. Naturally, the brother and sister dilated much 
 and often upon the subject nearest their hearts, future 
 study with them in Paris ; of which their non-com 
 mittal young friend always spoke as a 'delightful pos 
 sibility.' 
 
 Could Mrs. Nichols but have known why this was 
 not promised as an actual certainty, what a relief and 
 comfort such knowledge would have been to that 
 much perturbed little lady; and had Clayton Nichols 
 but known, how quickly would he have been found at 
 the feet of the faithful, loving girl ; for it was the in 
 tolerable thought of long separation from him which 
 alone prevented, just as the one drawback to her per- 
 
GERTRUDE WARFIELD 127 
 
 feet enjoyment of their delightful sketching tours, was 
 the fact of his unfortunate exclusion from them. 
 
 But to be in ignorance is not always bliss, and 
 ignorance of this truth was filling the hearts of these 
 two persons with a needless and growing jealousy of 
 the harmless little trips, which the simple magic of a 
 word could have exorcised. 
 
CHAPTER VII. 
 
 A SUSPENSEFUL WEEK AND ITS ENDING. 
 
 "'You little witch'! he exclaimed, straining her 
 to his bosom, while he rained kisses upon lip 
 and cheek and brow." 
 
 Time and tide were never known to wait for any 
 man; thus, sped on the fleet wing of enjoyment, the 
 happy days had scurried by into weeks, which had in 
 turn rolled themselves up and been lost in eternity. 
 Five of the contemplated eight of the stay of the Arm 
 strong and Nichols' households at the lake had al 
 ready passed, and very disappointing ones indeed had 
 they been to the expectant little mistress of Lakewood 
 Lodge. Things had not gone to suit her at all ; things, 
 of course, referred only to the love affairs of her 
 brother-in-law. Aside from that, it had been a most 
 satisfactory experience, for she had both charmed and 
 been charmed. But Clayton's mystifying delay in set 
 tling what she considered the most momentous matter 
 of the season, had surprised her at first and was now 
 beginning to exasperate; all the more so because of 
 her seeming powerlessness to effect a change. She 
 had been championing his cause to the very best of 
 her ability, she thought, and it was nothing flattering 
 to that ability that as yet there were no tangible re- 
 
A SUSPENSEFUL WEEK 129 
 
 suits so far as she could discover. This nettled her; 
 but deeper even than this emotion was the disinter 
 ested fear for the young man's sake alone that he 
 would, by such unexpected dallying, lose the lovely 
 girl for whom she rightly believed him to be longing 
 with all his heart and soul. True, her championship 
 had been altogether of her own volition, but that fact 
 made failure no more, if anything rather less, consol 
 ing. Unlike Hattie Lindsay, her assistance in the 
 affair had never been invoked, for several reasons. 
 First, she was not the young man's sister; had she 
 been, he would perhaps not have felt the same re 
 ticence in speaking to her of his inner emotions. Also, 
 while Clayton Nichols was quite a paragon of his sex, 
 he was not absolutely free from its weaknesses; his 
 wings, as yet, showed no tendency to sprout. While 
 he would not, of course, disdain to profit from any 
 advantages which might accrue from her unsolicited 
 managing, like many another man, he preferred to en 
 tertain the pleasing conceit that he had done the whole 
 thing himself. Possibly, too, he would have felt less 
 unwillingness to share the credit with some sisters-in- 
 law; but this one, like many other women and some 
 men had a perfect passion for managing things for 
 other people, which appealed to her brother-in-law not 
 at all. "He had no intention of letting her run him'' ; 
 he would tell himself upon occasion. "George could 
 do so if he wished; she was his wife and it was per 
 haps all right that he should; but she would never 
 
130 BY EARTHQUAKE AND FIRE 
 
 have been his choice." Yet the two were always on 
 the very best of terms. 
 
 Now for her adored husband's sake, Mrs. Nichols 
 really felt a deep affection for Clayton; for his own, 
 a great respect as well ; a little of wholesome fear, 
 possibly, also, which had in the present instance kept 
 her in check thus long. And the young man fully 
 appreciated the many good qualities of which she was 
 possessed. For her absolute devotion to his brother, 
 alone, he could have overlooked much; but he could 
 not refrain from grumbling to himself occasionally, 
 "Alice's officiousness does get on a man's nerves, terri 
 bly." 
 
 The situation having become well nigh intolerable 
 to the impetuous woman, however, there were grow 
 ing indications of an outbreak in the immediate future. 
 
 Now, the week's visit with them, which it will be 
 recalled Hattie Lindsay had expressed the intention 
 of claiming from her friend, had, at her brother's 
 request, been reserved for their last one at the lake, 
 that he might have the anticipated sweet memories of 
 the same the fresher in mind when he should have 
 taken his leave of her. For the Monday afternoon of 
 this week, Gertie had accepted Mrs. Nichols' invitation 
 to dine at Lakewood Lodge, remaining for the even 
 ing of croquet by moonlight, of course to which all 
 the young people of the camp had been bidden; after 
 which, her visit with the Lindsays would begin by 
 accompanying Hattie and Jack home from the lawn 
 fete. 
 
A SUSPENSEFUL WEEK 131 
 
 This proposed visit, however, proved the 'final straw' 
 to Mrs. Nichols' powers of endurance. She simply 
 could not tolerate the thought of such a frightful risk. 
 She fretted and fumed and stewed over the matter 
 secretly, until, her patience all gone, she suddenly 
 burst out at luncheon, on that eventful day, with 
 "Clayton Nichols, I really don't think you've got your 
 proper share of good sense!" 
 
 Surprised as he was at the attack for his outspoken 
 sister-in-law had never presumed to administer to him 
 so scathing a rebuke before the young man never 
 theless replied calmly, "Why, my dear sister, what have 
 I done to merit such an uncomplimentary opinion as all 
 that?" 
 
 "O, it's not what you have done but what you 
 haven't/' snapped out the woman angrily. "Here 
 you're sitting still and letting another man walk right 
 off with the girl you love. I really don't know what 
 you can be thinking of, Clayton ! You surely aren't 
 waiting for her to come and throw herself into your 
 arms? Well, she'll never do it" with great positive- 
 ness "I can just tell you that. I'm sure I've tried to 
 help you all I could and I've told you long ago that 
 she loves you. At least she d'd once, but I'm not so 
 sure about it any longer ; I don't see how she can ; 
 I'm sure 7 wouldn't if I was in her place! Marry an 
 artist, indeed !" The woman here snorted, indignantly. 
 "Of course he's very handsome, fascinating, and all 
 
132 BY EARTHQUAKE AND FIRE 
 
 that, but that's just the trouble; why he'll break her 
 heart in no time; and I believe you'd be willing that 
 he should," she accused excitedly. Continuing: "I 
 know what artist husbands are; we had one in our 
 family for a few years. Well she just shan't do any 
 thing of the kind ; that is, not if 7 can help it ; I'll put 
 a flea in her ear ; /'// save that dear girl if you won't ! 
 O, if Georgie were only here !" the excited, nervous 
 tremolo in her voice, by this time, almost a sob, as she 
 ended her rebuke with a despairing wail. 
 
 Now politeness alone would have kept the repri 
 manded young man from interrupting this vehement 
 reproving, even had he not felt moved at this time to 
 appreciate the interest in his supposed happiness which 
 had plainly provoked it. Then too, having about as 
 nearly reached the limits of endurance as herself he 
 could stand suspense no longer, and had therefore 
 decided to acknowledge his love to Gertrude Warfield 
 that very evening before their other guests should 
 have arrived he was therefore in a more mellow and 
 tolerant frame of mind than he might otherwise have 
 been; so, somewhat to Mrs. Nichols' surprise, and 
 greatly to her relief for she had felt as though her 
 interference would probably be as a bearding of the 
 lion in his den he replied with evident gratitude: 
 "Alice, I appreciate your anxiety upon my account, 
 I assure you ; and thank you for all you've tried to do 
 in my behalf. I've noticed your interest and efforts 
 although I haven't said anything about them ; and 
 
A SUSPENSEFUL WEEK 133 
 
 you've certainly been most kind. But I'm afraid 
 you're giving yourself a whole lot of needless worry, 
 sister ; / haven't heard of any one being walked away 
 with, yet, as you call it." He smiled. 
 
 "But she will be, brother, if you don't hurry up"; 
 cautioned the other, with most confident emphasis. 
 "There's the Lindsays, now; why they're going to 
 have her over there for a whole week; and any one 
 with half an eye can see that Jack's just dead in love 
 with the girl. These sketching tours all the time 
 trumped up excuses" she sniffed disdainfully, "have 
 been bad enough ; but to be in the same house together 
 for a whole seven days besides ! just think what could 
 happen in that time, Clayton; just think!" 
 
 But the young lover was even less pleased at the 
 prospect of that 'whole week' than she herself had been, 
 and had no desire to think about its danger; it had 
 struck still more of terror to his heart than to hers, 
 and had in fact, been the very thing which had decided 
 him to delay no longer, but take time by the forelock 
 in speaking to the girl that evening; thus forestalling 
 any disastrous consequences of her disquieting visit, if 
 possible. His mind thus made up, he answered lightly, 
 "O well, Alice, Jack's going away very soon, now, you 
 know, so don't worry about him." 
 
 "And I bet you what you dare, Clayton Nichols, 
 that he goes with Gertrude Warfield as his fiancee" 
 asserted his companion, with a decided nod. Adding, 
 with an approach to a sneer, "It won't be his sister's 
 
134 . BY EARTHQUAKE AND FIRE 
 
 fault if he don't, anyway; that girl's been doing noth 
 ing but -figure and scheme to throw those two together 
 ever since we got here ; I declare ! it's been positively 
 disgusting!" 
 
 "Well, 'all's fair in war and love,' they say, Alice," 
 returned her brother-in-law, carelessly while inward 
 ly smiling as he recalled how very similar had been her 
 tactics, and those of the devoted sister next door 
 "so I guess we'll have to take our chances. I've got 
 some writing to do," he finished, "so if you'll excuse 
 me, I'll attend to it before our fair guest arrives" ; and 
 leaving his much exercised sister-in-law at the table 
 with a puckered brow, the young man made his way 
 to his own apartments. 
 
 Now the interview had not been a particularly en 
 lightening one to Mrs. Nichols ; in fact, as she came to 
 think it over, she realized that it had not been at all so. 
 She really knew no more as to the man's intentions 
 now than she had known before. But then her object 
 in speaking had really been more to ease her own mind 
 than to learn the state of his, and her sputter had 
 brought her some measure of relief at any rate. "He 
 took it better than I feared he might," she congratu 
 lated herself. "I would so have liked to suggest a 
 speaking to Gertie before that horrid visit, but of 
 course, I wouldn't have dared go that far. I've put 
 a flea in his ear, though, that I hope will set him to 
 thinking; yes, and acting more lively, too. Perhaps 
 he has offered himself already, and been refused ; that 
 
A SUSPENSEFUL WEEK 135 
 
 possibility has never occurred to me before, and of 
 course he'd hate to tell me if that was the case. It's 
 an absurd idea, though, for Gertie's far too sensible a 
 girl to refuse such a splendid fellow as Clayton. Well, 
 all I can do now is to wait and watch for further de 
 velopments." She sighed resignedly. "I think it was a 
 little mean of him though, after all I've done for him, 
 not to tell me how matters stand ; he must have known 
 I'd like to know, even if I didn't ask right out. Oh, 
 I do wish Clayton wasn't quite so close-mouthed ; he'd 
 be just simply perfect if it wasn't for that !" 
 
 The above were the unsatisfactory meditations of 
 the woman ; while the man who had used his plea of 
 writing to be done merely as a convenient pretext t*> 
 end the conversation before pointed questions were 
 asked once by himself, half regretted not having set 
 the warm-hearted creature's mind at rest with his 
 confidence. 
 
 "Well, she'll know something definite by tomorrow, 
 any way," was his palliating thought ; "and that some 
 thing will have taken this anxious load off of her 
 mind, and mine too, I trust." 
 
 But how often do the well-laid plans both of mice 
 and men, gang aglee! That very afternoon Clayton 
 Nichols had been hastily summoned to the mine by 
 tidings of an accident there, in which several work 
 men, including his acting superintendent, had been 
 severely injured. There had been no time to see his 
 loved one, of course, before starting, not even to bid 
 
136 BY EARTHQUAKE AND FIRE 
 
 her goodbye. In fact the man's only thought upon 
 receiving the distressing news had been to reach the 
 place with Dr. Lindsay in the quickest possible time, 
 and render what aid lay in his power to the poor vic 
 tims. Had his superintendent not been among the 
 unfortunates his absence would have been but short. 
 Under existing circumstances, however, with the mine 
 running by day and night, his presence there became 
 a necessity for the time being, and that whole week 
 had passed before the anxious lover felt himself free 
 to return home and learn his fate. His dutiful exile 
 had not been without its compensations however, for 
 the days had been brightened by several meetings with 
 the dear one of his heart the ladies of the colony, 
 many of them, being desirous of helping to care for 
 the suffering men and as he noted her tender minis 
 trations to the injured, and her ready sympathy and 
 generous but unostentatious assistance to their afflicted 
 families, how much more deeply did he learn to love 
 the sweet girl, and how hard it often became to re 
 main at the post of duty with his fate hanging in the 
 balance, and she an undoubtedly pampered guest in the 
 home of a sure rival. 
 
 "How soon may we expect you back, Mr. Nichols ?" 
 had been her cheering inquiry however, one day when 
 taking leave of him. At another it had been the flat 
 tering admission, "The camp seems a bit dull without 
 you, Mr. Nichols." And on Saturday, "You'll surely 
 come home in time for a parting game, won't you? 
 
A SUSPENSEFUL WEEK 137 
 
 Mr. Lindsay and Hattie leave us on Tuesday, you 
 know." 
 
 He was missed, then! O, how the coveted knowl 
 edge comforted, and served to shorten, by brightening 
 the remaining hours of their separation; encouraged 
 him also to hope that he might not be too late with his 
 sweet story, even yet. 
 
 But while the painfully suspenseful week had been 
 a hard and trying one indeed to Clayton Nichols, to 
 Jack Lindsay it had been one of continued and un- 
 obscured delight; and O, how often were its cloudless 
 hours lived over again, moment by moment, in the 
 long years of life which followed. 
 
 To Mrs. Nichols it had been a most nerve-racking 
 period, which she had lived in momentary dread of 
 the announcement of a distasteful engagement; and 
 as an offset, she now claimed the innocent cause of 
 her anxiety for the following week. True, there was 
 always present with her the worrisome fear that her 
 laudable endeavors in her brother-in-law's behalf 
 might now prove futile, because too late; yet hover 
 ing solicitously near she had been so fortunate as to 
 overhear the girl's seemingly very interested inquiry 
 as to the expected date of his return, and this had 
 encouraged her to hope that she was still free; "and 
 if free" she comforted herself, "we shall have no more 
 interference from the Lindsay family after Tuesday, 
 thank goodness! and I myself can begin to breathe 
 freely once more ; something I've not been allowed to 
 do all Summer !" 
 
138 BY EARTHQUAKE AND FIRE 
 
 Thus it happened that as the eager suitor cantered 
 up to the bungalow a little before the dinner hour the 
 following Monday afternoon, he was richly rewarded 
 for his enforced period of exile by the unexpected 
 sight of a sweet face at the window; an instant later 
 and there was a dear one at the door ; and by the time 
 he had hurriedly reined in and swung himself from 
 the saddle, there was a fair form at the gateway to 
 greet him home once more. 
 
 One quick, searching glance into the sweet face be 
 fore him as the welcoming hand was extended in 
 cordial greeting, was enough. That unmistakable love- 
 light in his dear one's eyes could never have beamed 
 for him had she been the affianced of another ; and the 
 peace of blessed certainty at last filled the heart of the 
 long anxious lover. 
 
 Beckoning the officious sister-in-law the interested 
 and zealous champion of his suit aside for a moment 
 as they entered the house, the grateful man, with 
 heartfelt effusiveness, thanked her for her thoughtful- 
 ness and most acceptable arrangement; called her the 
 best sister in the world, and magnanimously set her 
 mind at rest by assuring her that her wishes for action 
 in a certain matter should be carried out before an 
 other sunrise. 
 
 Under such exhilarating conditions, the trio dinner 
 was, of course, charming. The evening was a heav 
 enly one; and as they sauntered home past midnight 
 
A SUSPENSEFUL WEEK 139 
 
 from Hattie Lindsay's Farewell, Mrs. Nichols whose 
 good offices had not yet been quite all performed 
 cleverly brought up the subject of croquet by moon 
 light. "We did miss you so last Monday evening, 
 Clayton," said she. "Didn't we, Gertie"; diplomatic 
 ally calling forth the sentiments of their guest upon the 
 subject. 
 
 "Yes, indeed," replied the girl, heartily. "Your 
 head would have been quite turned, I'm afraid, Mr. 
 Nichols, if you could have heard the universal griev 
 ing at your absence." 
 
 "Case of 'distance lends enchantment,' I presume'' ; 
 and the gratified young man laughed. Then quickly : 
 "But what's to hinder us having a game, just one, now, 
 before we retire ? 'Twill be the finest kind of a night 
 cap after that rich supper. Besides, there won't be 
 many more chances for moonlight games; the nights 
 will be dark again soon." 
 
 "That's a fact," chimed in Mrs. Nichols. Continu 
 ing, with even more than her every-day enthusiasm 
 "Why, yes; let's play." And without waiting for any 
 possible though of course, very improbable objec 
 tions from their visitor, she hurried up the steps of 
 the veranda, which they had reached, and began hand 
 ing out the necessary equipment for the proposed 
 game. Half way to the grounds, however, the satis 
 fied chaperon suddenly faced about and left them ; and 
 in that instant Clayton Nichols first realized with what 
 a real jewel of a sister-in-law he was blessed. 
 
140 BY EARTHQUAKE AND FIRE 
 
 "What! aren't you going to play too, Mrs. Nichols?" 
 called Gertrude, stopping in surprise. 
 
 "No, dear; not this time." The laugh that accom 
 panied her hostess' words was a very suggestive one, 
 as she added, "Three, I fancy, would prove a crowd." 
 And smiling contentedly and with a merry twinkle in 
 her eye, that astute little body hastened back to the 
 house, murmuring ecstatically as she went, "Croquet 
 fiddlesticks! the psychological moment has arrived ! 
 O, if Georgie were only here !" 
 
 "Out on a lawn, twixt the night and day, 
 
 Went a maid and a man. I said, 'Which way?' 
 
 And they both replied, 'croquet; croquet/ 
 
 Of mallets and balls the usual display; 
 
 The hoops all stood in arch array ; 
 
 And I said to myself, soon we'll see croquet." 
 
 "But the mallets and balls unheeded lay; 
 
 And the maid and the man side by side sat they. 
 
 And I thought to myself, is that croquet? 
 
 I saw the scamp it was bright as day 
 
 Put his arm 'round her waist in a loving way; 
 
 And he squeezed her hand. Was that croquet?" 
 
 "While the red rover rolled all forgotten away, 
 He whispered all that a lover should say; 
 And kissed her lips. What a queer croquet! 
 Silent they sat 'neath the moon's bright ray, 
 And I knew by her blushes she had said not nay ; 
 And I thought in my heart, now that's croquet.'' 
 
A SUSPENSEFUL WEEK 141 
 
 Later the very unimportant detail of just how 
 much later, the writer was never able to definitely 
 learn, but some later the happy lover whispered, 
 "Shall we go down to the wharf for a moment, sweet 
 heart? I've something to show you there." 
 
 Disengaging his arm from the girl for a moment as 
 they reached the landing, Clayton took from his ring 
 a key which, stooping, he fitted to the lock of boat- 
 house number two several times referred to in an 
 earlier chapter and as the fastening sprung back, 
 threw wide open the door with a gesture which plainly 
 indicated an expected exclamation of surprise at the 
 denouement; for there, plainly revealed by the bright 
 moonlight, hung the 'Gertie/ 
 
 But the tables were clearly turned; no such ex 
 clamation was forthcoming; and as he stepped quickly 
 back and again encircled his companion with his arm, 
 drawing her tenderly to his side, the surprise was 
 upon his part; for he found her to be struggling to 
 repress some emotion which he could njeither under 
 stand nor account for. 
 
 Gently raising the face which she had purposely 
 averted from him, the puzzled lover asked anxiously, 
 "What is it, little one? Doesn't it please you, or was 
 I too presumptuous?" 
 
 "O, no, no; it isn't that!" and the happy girl now 
 laughed outright, in a vain attempt to longer conceal 
 her merriment. "But but why, you see, dearest, 
 I've known about it all the time !" 
 
142 BY EARTHQUAKE AND FIRE 
 
 For just one short, incredulous moment, did Clay 
 ton Nichols hold his betrothed at arm's length, study 
 ing the droll expression upon her child-like face ; then, 
 "You little witch!" he exclaimed; straining her to his 
 bosom, while he rained kisses upon lip, and cheek, and 
 brow. 
 
 'Farewell to dreams of Empire/ once chuckled the 
 far-seeing Prince Metternich with sardonic glee, as 
 L'Aiglon and his beloved Fanny rushed into each 
 others' arms. 'Farewell to dreams of study with 
 friends in Paris, for Gertrude Courtney Warfield!' 
 sang the twinkling, morning stars, at this interesting 
 point in our story. 
 
CHAPTER VIII. 
 
 A WONDERFUL PAINTING. 
 
 "But only the proud sister knew * * * 
 that every stroke of the pencil, every touch of 
 the brush, had been an outpouring of undying 
 love." 
 
 A very clear old world is this ! 
 
 Dear, for its cherished hours of bliss; 
 
 Its treasured stores of gladness. 
 
 A dear old world? Yes. And yet, how often does 
 the joy in one heart rise, Phoenix-like, out of the 
 ashes of extinguished hope in the heart of another; 
 so that we long for that better country, where happi 
 ness shall be universal. 
 
 Now Gertrude Warfield was neither a coquette nor 
 a flirt, as the reader already knows. It was therefore 
 due to no wish or effort upon her part that in Jack 
 Lindsay's heart an over-mastering love for herself had 
 found lodgment. Nor was the girl in the least degree, 
 suspectful of the fact, for her opinion of her own 
 charms was a very modest one, and he had kept his 
 lover-like inclinations well in check. Their intimacy 
 had proven a real delight, and as a most dear man 
 friend, he certainly held first place in her thoughts. 
 
144 BY EARTHQUAKE AND FIRE 
 
 Her contemplated trip abroad with the Armstrongs 
 had been talked of continually between them, and to 
 their meeting in Paris a few months later, Jack was 
 of course looking deliriously forward with the most 
 utter confidence as an absolute certainty; and once 
 there, "she will stay"; was his unvarying self-confident, 
 self -satisfying assertion upon the subject. He recog 
 nized in Clayton Nichols, of course, a rival, but he also 
 knew that, as yet, no engagement existed between the 
 two, and the girl's expected long absence from Denver 
 he considered as good evidence that none was immi 
 nent; it is always so easy to make one's self believe 
 that which one wants to. So that she come abroad 
 free was all the infatuated young man deemed neces 
 sary to the successful termination of his intended suit. 
 
 'Hope springs eternal in the human breast' ; and Jack 
 Lindsay had chosen to fill himself with such an excess 
 of optimism in this matter, that he was leaving the 
 girl with virtually no misgivings as to the opportuni 
 ties of the future, and absolutely none as to the satis 
 factory ending of his love affair. It would therefore 
 well nigh bankrupt our language to fully set forth the 
 extent and force and awfulness of the shock received 
 by him on the morning following the happy event 
 recorded in the closing pages of the preceding chapter. 
 
 Hattie and he having run over to the Nichols' place 
 for a goodbye call, had found its notably cheerful little 
 mistress in a state of happy, nervous excitement well 
 nigh bordering on hysteria. Greetings had barely been 
 
A WONDERFUL PAINTING 145 
 
 exchanged between them before they were informed 
 by her of the good news ; so she termed it, with God 
 forgive her a very patent tinge of exultation, im 
 possible of concealment. 
 
 "The happy couple," so she ran on, "had taken an 
 early morning row in the 'Gertie' the dearest little 
 Whitehall just launched this morning. Hadn't they 
 seen them go by? No? O, she supposed they had 
 slept later than usual on account of the party which 
 had kept them up so late, and at which we all did have 
 such a splendid time." Returning to her subject; "the 
 lovers", so they were told, "had gone down to inform 
 Mrs. Armstrong of their engagement and get the ap 
 proval which was certain to follow her knowledge 
 of it; for it had long been the dearest wish of that 
 lady's heart that Gertie and Clayton should marry. 
 She herself was simply wild over it," she declared, 
 "and Georgie would be the happiest man alive when 
 the news reached him. O, Gertie was such a darling! 
 such a perfect angel of a girl! didn't they think the 
 same? She felt sure they must, for everybody who 
 knew her did. Clayton simply idolised her! The 
 ring was superb! They would probably be married 
 some time during the coming Winter; she hoped 
 so, for she didn't approve of long engagements. She 
 was so sorry that they couldn't be here for the wed 
 ding ; not here in Denver, she didn't mean ; she should 
 insist upon its taking place in Chicago, for it was but 
 right that Clayton should be married from his 
 
146 BY EARTHQUAKE AND FIRE 
 
 brother's home. She had it all planned just how every 
 thing must come off. She thought they would travel 
 for a year, probably, and how perfectly delightful it 
 would be for them all to meet after a while in Paris. 
 She intended to take Gertie back home with her next 
 month; O, how she would enjoy helping select the 
 trousseau ! She had been so happy ever since they 
 confided in her this morning, that she could hardly 
 contain herself! There! she heard oars now! they 
 were coming!" And unable to sit still longer, their 
 agitated young hostess rushed, beaming with delight, 
 to the hall door, which she threw wide open to admit 
 the engaged couple. 
 
 Now Mrs. Nichols was by no means, naturally, an 
 unkind or cruel woman. Although the much wished 
 for consummation of her brother-in-law's love affair 
 had given rise to a momentary feeling of exultation 
 over Jack Lindsay and even more particularly over 
 the sister whose management of his campaign had 
 been such a thorn in the flesh to her not for worlds 
 would she have inflicted on the young man such suf 
 fering as the intelligence just conveyed had done. A 
 thunderbolt out of a cloudless sky could not have been 
 more astounding, nor have fallen upon him with a 
 more stunning blow, than had her first words at their 
 uttering; for they had seemed to grip his love-dis 
 tended heart like a vice. He felt the blood leave it in 
 a great wave, only to rush instantly back again, bring- 
 
A WONDERFUL PAINTING 147 
 
 ing with it the color from his cheeks and lips. A cold 
 perspiration started from his every pore ; his confused 
 brain seemed to reel; and it was only by clutching 
 momentarily at the back of the chair upon which he 
 was about to seat himself, that he was prevented from 
 falling to the floor. His perturbation was unnoticed 
 by their hostess however, so absorbed was she in the 
 recital of her engrossing tale; and by a mighty effort 
 which, in a dumb sort of a way he understood to be 
 necessary Jack manfully mastered his emotion for 
 the time, and gave no outward sign of the ordeal 
 through which he was passing. After her very first 
 utterance, however, the jubilant words had fallen upon 
 deaf ears, so far as he was concerned. As though 
 emanating from some far-away corner he seemed to 
 hear the woman's voice, and was even dimly conscious 
 of a feeling of gratitude that she continued to do the 
 talking in such a way that no answers were required 
 of him; also of thankfulness for the return of the 
 betrothed ones, that he might get it all over with and 
 go home. But after he had mechanically arisen at 
 their entrance and shaken hands with Clayton, and 
 with a sickly attempt at a smile had called him 'a-lucky 
 fellow/ as Gertie more radiantly beautiful than ever 
 in the first flush of her great, new-found happiness 
 came forward in her sweetly modest way to receive 
 his felicitations, a full realization of what had hap 
 pened ; what it all meant to him, suddenly swept over 
 
148 BY EARTHQUAKE AND FIRE 
 
 the enlightened young man. As their hands met again, 
 for an instant his heavy-laden heart seemed to arouse 
 itself from the stupor which had fallen upon it; there 
 was one big throb, a struggle, a gasp; then numb 
 ness; deadness; lead. 
 
 Warmly and sincerely, but with a gaiety which it 
 had been hard indeed for her to assume, the sister's 
 good wishes and congratulations were quickly offered ; 
 after which, with the plea of a little more packing yet 
 to be done, she considerately hastened their adieus, 
 and arm in arm, brother and sister re-crossed the 
 lawn to their own home. 
 
 Not a word was spoken between them; the actual 
 suffering of the one, and the sympathetic suffering 
 of the other, making speech impossible. But as the 
 necessity for the maintaining of appearances ceased 
 with the closing of their own door behind them, the 
 disappointed lover sank into a hall chair, and with a 
 heartrending groan, buried his wan, drawn face within 
 his hands. 
 
 "Drink this, dear," coaxed the thoughtful sister a 
 moment later, as she raised her brother's head and 
 placed to his lips a soothing draught which she had 
 quickly brought, "and then let me put you on the couch 
 for a while." 
 
 "Thank you, Sis, but upstairs, please ; I want to be 
 alone," returned the other very quietly, as he handed 
 back the glass which he had obediently drained; and 
 
A WONDERFUL PAINTING 149 
 
 then rising wearily to his feet, suffered himself to be as 
 sisted to his room, into a lounging robe and slippers, 
 and placed upon a couch. And when the loving sis 
 ter having darkened the room in the hope of induc 
 ing sleep bent over with a kiss of sympathy, as he 
 pressed her hand gratefully he murmured, "What 
 would I do without my good sister now? Guard my 
 secret, dear, and don't hear to any change in our plans 
 because of this. I must get away; you understand." 
 And with a low, dry sob, the unhappy fellow turned 
 his face to the wall. 
 
 Jack had been taken with a sudden dizziness and 
 headache, so the parents were told upon their return 
 from their daily morning drive and visit to the injured 
 miners, a couple of hours later. He was taking a nap 
 and didn't want to be called for luncheon; she had 
 given him a bromide and thought he'd be all right 
 when he awoke. 
 
 Sudden attacks of illness were so unusual for Jack 
 Lindsay, however, that much anxiety was felt by both 
 parents at the really sick appearance of their son, 
 when he joined them a little later; but to their immed 
 iate urging that his departure be postponed a few days, 
 he would not listen for a moment. "It was but an 
 attack of indigestion," so he assured them. "He had 
 not been feeling quite up to concert pitch for a few 
 days, anyway, and the rich, late supper of the night 
 before had knocked his stomach out. The week in 
 
150 BY EARTHQUAKE AND KIRE 
 
 the saddle and the sea air, would put him in fine shape 
 by the time he got back to work; and in fact, he half 
 believed the simple getting to work again was what 
 he needed more than anything else ; he'd been loafing 
 too long ; it didn't agree with him ; his head was get 
 ting congested with the surfeit of matter waiting for 
 expression, and that had no doubt helped to bring on 
 the attack." 
 
 But neither the week in the saddle, nor the en 
 suing voyage, nor the change of scene and sur 
 roundings availed in Jack Lindsay's case ; for while 
 'hope deferred makes the heart sick,' hope anni 
 hilated at one fell, unexpected blow, often comes 
 very near to taking its life. The Tantalus cup 
 of nectar, into the enticing foam upon whose sur 
 face he had been permitted for a few, brief weeks 
 to thrust the tip of his tongue, confidently trust 
 ing to a kinder fate for future copious draughts 
 with which to slake his growing thirst, had been sud 
 denly and irrecoverably lowered out of his reach; 
 killing the fires of hope which had burned so fiercely 
 within his breast. And although, for his loved sister's 
 sake, he succeeded in pulling himself together (after 
 a fashion) to the end of their journey, the burden at 
 length became too heavy ; and during the severe illness 
 which soon followed their arrival in Paris, his delirium 
 was all about 'glorious eyes' ; and 'brilliant stars' ; and 
 'soft moonbeams' ; and 'Springtime; sweet, promising 
 Springtime.' 
 
A WONDERFUL PAINTING 151 
 
 Some sage has written, 'there are two ways for a 
 man to feel when God has denied him the rights of 
 love ; he can either change to a beast of passion, or he 
 can keep safe armored in just the chivalry of love ; as 
 the knights of old did, when they made a vow, tied 
 a lady's glove upon the tops of their helmets and rode 
 forth in battle.' Jack Lindsay chose the latter. 
 
 Visitors to the exhibition the following year would 
 return again and again to gaze at and admire a canvas 
 entitled Springtime ; and to wonder at the strange, yet 
 splendid conception and marvelous execution, of a 
 picture so void of all the usual and helpful accessories. 
 There was no green field broidered with wild flowers, 
 through which a brook raced swiftly and merrily 
 along, as if in sheer abandon of delight at its release 
 from the Storm-king's icy grasp. There were no song 
 birds flitting between leaving trees, trilling their 
 thanksgivings for the return of Spring, or hopping 
 from bough to bough seeking for places to build their 
 homes. There were no flowing locks and light drap 
 eries, gently stirred into motion by a passing breeze. 
 But instead, there was the figure of a beautiful young 
 girl, clad in a simple costume of embroidered white 
 duck edged with blue, standing at the upper end of 
 a croquet field, and holding in her hand a blue striped 
 mallet, upon the handle of which she lightly leaned. 
 There was nothing in the least appropriate, sugges 
 tive, or helpful in the representation, save the refresh- 
 
152 BY EARTHQUAKE AND FIRE 
 
 ing youthfulness apparent in every curve of the 
 slender, graceful figure; but it was through the face 
 of the girl that the artist had so truthfully and vividly 
 portrayed his subject. 
 
 The smile of Spring was upon the lips. The fresh 
 ness and fairness of Spring were in the velvety soft 
 ness and delicate coloring of the complexion. The 
 moods of Spring were in the expressive brown eyes; 
 which even as one gazed, seemed suddenly to change 
 from gay to grave. The sunshine of Spring glinted 
 from the golden hair, which framed the oval face like 
 an aureole. The very joy of living which beamed 
 from the countenance, bespoke the music of Spring 
 within the heart; while an atmosphere of the gentle 
 charm and promise of Spring's sweet young life, 
 seemed to emanate from and surround the entire 
 figure. 
 
 So perfect, so natural were the tints, that the flesh 
 seemed fairly to pulsate with life; the eyelids to 
 quiver; the blood to course through the delicate blue 
 veins upon the temples. In short, so life-like was the 
 picture as to be almost startling; it was difficult to 
 believe that some exquisitely fair young creature had 
 not stepped behind an empty frame, to trick the be 
 holder. 
 
 Men spoke of the treatment of the subject as un 
 conventional, bizarre; the work, superb; that of a 
 master hand ; a genius ; and they began to inquire who 
 
A WONDERFUL PAINTING 153 
 
 the talented artist and the beautiful model should be; 
 and to speculate as to the inspiration of the thing. 
 
 But only the proud sister knew of the heart-throes 
 out of which it had been conceived and born; that it 
 was the reproduction of an image indelibly graven 
 upon the heart; and that every stroke of the pencil, 
 every touch of the brush, had been an outpouring of 
 undying love. 
 
CHAPTER IX. 
 
 THE MAN IN THE MOON. 
 
 " 'Did you see that wink'? he asked with mock 
 seriousness. * * 'Another Summer troth; 
 
 by Jingo'!" 
 
 Since this is a tale of many loves, we must now 
 leave the Paris studio and salon, and journey back to 
 the picturesque spot from whence we wandered. 
 Shifting the theatre of action, however, from the 
 upper to the lower end of the lake, we must also roll 
 back the calendar to that July morning of the pre 
 ceding year, when two other young people in whom 
 we are equally interested, talked together upon this 
 world-absorbing, age-absorbing topic. What of joy 
 or of sorrow, of satisfaction or of disappointment has 
 the intervening lapse of time vouchsafed to them? 
 
 Now men love to love ; women to be loved ; and the 
 sumum bonum of love affairs for both, is that they 
 afford these blissful experiences. Although Harold 
 Gardiner's avowal of love had found no answering 
 echo in Margaret Armstrong's heart, yet, being a man, 
 he was nevertheless happy in just the loving of the 
 girl, as he had been for months before. In addition, 
 his fears as to her love having already been given to 
 another had been set at rest by the disclosure, and he 
 
THE MAN IN THE MOON 155 
 
 was therefore in a very hopeful and still happier frame 
 of mind than before speaking. 
 
 Margaret's expressed surprise at his ardent con 
 fession had not been in the least feigned; there had 
 been nothing of the conventional 'O, this is so 
 sudden' about it, at all ; for it had in truth been a 
 most undreamed of revelation. Yet, being a woman, 
 its effect had been to fill her heart with a great hap 
 piness, which had in turn inspired her to a new 
 warmth and tenderness of manner. 
 
 Casual acquaintances frequently thought the girl's 
 nature a cold one; so dignified was she, and reserved 
 with them; but this was a misconception of character 
 which vanished upon closer intimacy, for she was a 
 girl who wore. One had to know Margaret well to 
 thoroughly appreciate her; never did a warmer heart 
 than hers beat in any breast. It was therefore a very 
 happy looking young couple that continued homeward 
 from the spring at which we parted with them on that 
 eventful morning. 
 
 As they neared the end of the trail, the sound of 
 hoof-beats coming up the road opposite fell upon their 
 ears. "That's probably Will, now!" exclaimed the 
 girl, quickening 1 her steps. And true enough, as they 
 emerged into the open a few moments later, horse 
 and rider coming suddenly into view proved her sur 
 mise to have been a correct one. 
 
 Now as far as Margaret Armstrong knew, was real 
 ly aware at the time, she had spoken truthfully to 
 
156 BY EARTHQUAKE AND FIRE 
 
 Harold Gardiner when she disclaimed being already 
 in love. No girl, however, is wholly insensible to 
 masculine admiration ; and during the week's associa 
 tion of the previous Winter which had been respon 
 sible for the birth of the tender passion in Willard 
 Manning's heart, of which we have previously writ 
 ten all unrealized by herself, virile seeds had also 
 been sown in her own ; capable, under favoring condi 
 tions, of maturing into a soul-satisfying harvest of 
 love. 
 But: 
 
 Big aches from little toe-corns grow ; 
 And destinies, for weal or woe, 
 Oft hang upon a word. 
 
 Little recked the talkative Mrs. Nichols of the con 
 struction to be put upon her words by one of her audi 
 tors, nor of the consequences thereof, when she jok 
 ingly accused their gallant escort upon the train, of 
 "being in love," as the reader will now recall her 
 having done. "Some Chicago friend of hers, I sup 
 pose, since she seems to know all about it" ; was the 
 conclusion to which the surprised Margaret had im 
 mediately jumped, it will be remembered; and the 
 fact of the man's occasional trips to the distant city, 
 such as the one just then ended, certainly seemed to 
 lend color to the conjecture. This presumption had 
 remained unchanged; and as she noted the very im 
 posing appearance presented by the approaching 
 
THE MAN IN THE MOON 157 
 
 horseman, there was within her had she but under 
 took to analyze the emotion a momentary feeling 
 strongly resembling jealousy of this supposed East 
 ern inamorata. 
 
 "How proud she must be of him!'' was the admir 
 ing thought which flashed instantly through the mind 
 of the girl. And not without reason; for Willard 
 Manning was a big, sturdy, athletic fellow ; a splendid 
 specimen, both naturally and by cultivation, of the 
 genus homo. He was also upon all occasions an 
 exquisite in the matter of dress; and now, in fault 
 lessly fitting corduroys and leggings almost matching 
 his Chestnut in color, and the ease and grace with 
 which he tent himself to its every motion, for he 
 was a fine equestrian the young man appeared al 
 most a part of the beautiful animal which he sat so 
 superbly; and his commanding presence was just such 
 as might evoke that proud admiration which is always 
 an important factor in the love of a girl of the Mar 
 garet Armstrong type. 
 
 But a few paces separated them as they caught 
 sight of each other, and Willard had brought his 
 horse to a quick standstill and dismounted ere these 
 were covered by the pedestrians. 
 
 "Speak of angels!" exclaimed Margaret gaily, as 
 they shook hands; "Harry and I thought it was you 
 as soon as we heard the horse. We've been gather 
 ing some ferns for Mamma up at the spring. I'm 
 awfully glad to see you, Will ! what sort of a trip up 
 
158 BY EARTHQUAKE AND FIRE 
 
 did you have? Ours was a perfectly grand one!" 
 Now this latter acknowledgment by the girl was 
 not at all such an one as the new arrival could have 
 wished to hear. It would have been infinitely more 
 flattering, not to say reassuring, to have been told 
 that he had been missed that the full enjoyment of 
 the trip had been impossible because of his absence 
 that she had been counting the hours, minutes, even, 
 until he should arrive. Something, anything of this 
 sort would have been so gratifying and comforting; 
 but to learn that the lack of his company had in no 
 wise lessened her enjoyment, was very disillusioning 
 to say the least. However, he could not have ad 
 vanced a single good reason to himself for having 
 expected it to be different, although he had been feed 
 ing upon the belief of having created a very favorable 
 impression he had certainly striven so to do during 
 the two days spent together prior to her departure 
 for the mountains ; he now feared that he had taken 
 himself too seriously in that respect. Moreover, the 
 meeting with the couple just where he did, was a 
 little disquieting, for he knew that Fern Spring was 
 a favorite trysting place for the lovers of the camp; 
 and then there was that undefinable something again 
 in Harold Gardiner's manner towards the girl which 
 to him always seemed to evince a sense of proprietor 
 ship to annoy. 
 
 Of one thing however, he was certain; Margaret 
 was now more charming than ever; and truly, the 
 
THE MAN IN THE MOON 159 
 
 great happiness with which the event of the morning- 
 had filled her heart, did appear to have imparted a 
 soft, a heavenly grace to her queenly beauty. 
 
 Now love, we know, feeds upon contradictions ; con 
 sequently, while Willard Manning's spirits fell a notch 
 or two because of these unexpectedly unsatisfactory 
 circumstances, the fire in his heart only flamed the 
 higher. 
 
 Answering the girl's question as to his trip, he re 
 plied, "I can't say that mine was exactly 'grand,' 
 Margaret. One doesn't really enjoy such a trip as 
 that alone you know; but the goal was all that I al 
 lowed myself to think about, and that was alluring 
 enough to make up for the lonesomeness ; although I 
 confess I half regretted not having come up with the 
 rest of you, several times. But I'm here now, as you 
 see, and mighty glad of it. How's everybody? And 
 when did the caravan arrive?" he asked, jovially; 
 addressing Harold Gardiner, with whom he was now, 
 in turn, shaking hands. 
 
 "Only last evening," was the reply; "with all well. 
 And if you could have heard the ladies regretting your 
 absence as they did all the way up, you'd have felt 
 abundantly repaid for your devotion to business. 
 Nichols and I came very near to being jealous" ; added 
 the other man, generously. 
 
 "That's the truth, Will"; put in the girl promptly. 
 "We did wish for you and talk about you continually. 
 Didn't your ears burn?" 
 
160 BY EARTHQUAKE AND FIRE 
 
 Well now that you remind me of it Margaret, I be 
 lieve they did ; and I kept wishing that I could know 
 which one of you was taking my name in vain." And 
 although the man laughed, there was even more of 
 earnestness than jest in his admittance. 
 
 "O, we'll all have to plead guilty to that, I'm afraid,'' 
 replied Margaret; "but Mamma perhaps especially." 
 Stepping to her mother's side upon the lawn to which 
 they had by now walked, for a good morning kiss and 
 inquiry as to how she was feeling. 
 
 "Yes, Willard, I can't tell you how much we all 
 wished that you could have enjoyed the delightful 
 trip up with us ; nor how pleased I am to see you this 
 morning, so soon after our own arrival; said Mrs. 
 Armstrong, pressing the young man's hand affection 
 ately as she spoke. "I feel as though the family were 
 complete now. You can find the way up to your old 
 room, can you? Everything is in readiness for you, I 
 think." Then turning to Margaret, "but where have 
 you left Gertie, daughter?" 
 
 "O, up at the other end of the lake," laughed the 
 girl; "need you ask, Mamma?" Adding, "I'm afraid 
 we're doomed to see but little of her these days ; the 
 Nichols family, strange as it may appear, are going 
 to show a disposition to monopolize her, I fancy; we 
 left her and Clayton starting on a game of croquet; 
 which I have no doubt will prove exceedingly inter 
 esting to them. We walked home so as to get you 
 those ferns," pointing to the mass which had been 
 
THE MAN IN THE MOON 161 
 
 dropped a little further out "aren't they beauties? 
 You have Harry to thank for the suggestion?" 
 
 "They are indeed," replied the mother gratefully, 
 "and I deeply appreciate your kind remembrance, Har 
 ry; I want them to replace some of Mr. Armstrong's 
 transplanting which have died. And now shall we 
 have luncheon?" she asked; rising as the new arrival 
 re-appeared, the stains of travel removed and cordu 
 roys exchanged for white flannels. "The bell has 
 already rung." 
 
 "Norah evidently considers you the head of the 
 house''; said Margaret, as she and Willard entered 
 the dining room together in advance of the rest. 
 
 "Norah's certainly very flattering to seat me at the 
 head of the table," returned her companion, shaking 
 hands politely with the maid as he spoke, and asking 
 how she did ; "and kind, beside, to put me next you." 
 
 "Isn't it all right, Miss Margaret?" inquired the girl 
 anxiously. "Mrs. Armstrong said I was to move her 
 to the other end as soon as Mr. Manning got here." 
 
 "Why of course it's all right, Norah, and particu 
 larly as it was Mamma's directions"; replied Mar 
 garet, reassuringly. 
 
 "You're surely giving Will a good training for a 
 home of his own, Mamma" ; she remarked, when 
 grace had been said. 
 
 "Yes, and I expect never to be ashamed of my 
 pupil" ; replied her mother, proudly. 
 
 "Well up to date you certainly have no occasion to 
 
162 BY EARTHQUAKE AND FIRE 
 
 be"; put in their guest, Mrs. Gardiner, warmly; as 
 she noted the neat, quiet way in which the young- man 
 served. 
 
 As he smiled and bowed his appreciation of their 
 complimentary remarks, Willard began preparing the 
 fourth plate. "Go easy, my friend, if that's for me"; 
 cautioned the Rector quickly; observing the greater 
 abundance with which this plate was being filled. 
 
 "Too much?" queried the server. "I was merely 
 acting upon Purcell's theory that pious folks are al 
 ways big eaters. No offence, I hope." Then jocularly, 
 "You know he always provides three times as many 
 eatables for a clerical banquet as for any other." 
 
 "And how much less drinkables ?' threw back Mr. 
 Gardiner good humoredly. "You see the theory 
 proves" he added "that for a good, dependable 
 appetite, there's nothing equal to a conscience void of 
 offence; beats bracers and all the tonics in the phar- 
 macopia" 
 
 "And thus ruins my business" ; offered his son, 
 ruefully. 
 
 "O you've plenty of other ways to kill us off, 
 though, Doctor." This from the head of the table. 
 
 "Now I think that's the most unkindest cut of all !" 
 declared Margaret. "I wouldn't stand it if I were 
 you, Harry." 
 
 "I'm not, Margaret; sitting down to it, you see." 
 
 "How is the trail now, daughter?" here asked Mrs. 
 Armstrong a note of unusual sadness in her tone 
 
THE MAN IN THE MOON 163 
 
 showing with what associations in her mind the place 
 was connected. "Did you find many changes in it?" 
 
 "No Mamma, none at all"; replied the girl; "'twas 
 just the same, grand, majestic calm there as ever.'' 
 
 "Far from the madding crowd?" asked Willard; 
 with a significant smile, and studying the girl's face 
 intently as he spoke. To which she at once made 
 answer airily, "yes, completely so; we didn't meet a 
 soul ; had it to ourselves all the way." 
 
 "You probably didn't choose the right time of day 
 for companions"; returned her questioner. "That's 
 the er 'meet me by moonlight, alone,' walk, that 
 I've heard so much about these recent years, isn't it? 
 I'm afraid there was method in their madness, Mrs. 
 Armstrong''; he continued teasingly. Now address 
 ing that lady, but with a quizzical look at the cul 
 prits. "What do you think about it?" 
 
 "It does look a trifle suspicious, surely"; replied 
 the mother, shaking her head as though a bit dubious. 
 
 "There's nothing suspicious about it at all," pro 
 tested Margaret. "We just came that way purposely 
 to get those ferns for Mamma." Speaking the truth, 
 we know, as far as she herself was concerned, al 
 though an uncontrollable blush almost gave the lie to 
 her words. 
 
 "What's on the tapis for this afternoon?" now put 
 in Harold Gardiner, quickly; anxious for a change of 
 subject. 
 
 "Well, I for one, mean to take a nap the first thing, 
 
164 BY EARTHQUAKE AND FIRE 
 
 and do a little practicing afterward" ; spoke up Mar 
 garet. Adding "If you're around then we might 
 take up that duet." 
 
 "I'll be here any time you say, Margaret" ; was the 
 obsequious reply. And while the girl considered, he 
 added "Father has suggested a couple of hours fish 
 ing; how would, say four-thirty do?'' 
 
 "Fine." 
 
 "If you don't feel the need of a rest, Will, we'd be 
 very glad to have you join us" ; said the young man, 
 cordially, to their newcomer. 
 
 "Thanks ; yes ; glad to go" ; returned Willard. "I'm 
 not the least bit tired; a week away from the chase 
 of the almighty dollar has rested me all right. How 
 soon do we start ?" he finished ; as they excused them 
 selves to the ladies and left the room. 
 
 "Is there anything I can do for you, Mamma?'' in 
 quired Margaret, when the gentlemen had gone. "If 
 not, I'd like to take a short nap ; we shall have a some 
 what strenuous evening at the Somerville's, I pre- 
 -sume; dancing, you know." 
 
 "Nothing, thanks, dear" ; replied the mother sweetly, 
 "so take a good rest; you must be quite tired from 
 your morning's walk. Mrs. Gardiner and I are going 
 to the hammocks for an hour or two." 
 
 Now the girl's plea for a nap had been largely 
 an excuse to retire to her own room and be alone 
 awhile; for she had much to think about. The 
 relationship formerly existing between Harold Gardi- 
 
THE MAN IN THE MOON 165 
 
 ner and herself was now entirely changed; and 
 she was trying to adjust herself to the new order 
 of things. They could no longer meet as friends, 
 merely. His declaration of the morning had af 
 fixed the finis to the opening chapter of their 
 book of association; a second and more advanced 
 one lay open before them, and it remained for 
 her to determine whether this should become also 
 the last ; the closing one. Henceforth, they must meet 
 as suitor and sought, or won. While the knowledge 
 that she had inspired his love had at first been a very 
 sweet one, yet for the young man's own sake the girl 
 now almost regretted that such was the case; for she 
 realized what a vitally important matter it was to 
 him, and if not returned might produce no light con 
 sequences. That it was not returned at that particu 
 lar time went without saying; for as she examined 
 her heart, she could discover there nothing deeper in 
 sentiment than a high regard for his many noble quali 
 ties, and gratitude for his long continued kindnesses. 
 His attentions were pleasing, 'tis true, but she could 
 not feel that it would make any material difference in 
 her life were they to cease; be withdrawn. She be 
 lieved it might go on without any real or lasting 
 diminution of her happiness, even should he go out 
 of it altogether. While she would miss him in a 
 way, it would not leave a void such as some other 
 mere friend might not fill. 'This surely was not 
 love !" she told herself. She knew well that Harold's 
 
166 BY EARTHQUAKE AND FIRE 
 
 for her was an all-absorbing passion of the heart, 
 totally eclipsing every other emotion, and its perfect 
 requittal, as necessary to the health, perhaps life, even, 
 of that heart, as sunshine and ozone to the health and 
 life of the body. And no meaner love could she be 
 guilty of offering him in return. She must learn to 
 love him in that way. Yet heart and mind instantly 
 revolted at the thought of love being cultivated. "It 
 should spring spontaneously," she thought, "and so 
 strong that nothing, not even death itself could kill it ; 
 as her mother's for her dear father. That was. love 
 such as he deserved, and she must not disappoint him. 
 But why could she not feel it now; at once? Why was 
 not her heart filled with just such commotion, tumult, 
 as she had looked upon in his, exposed to her view 
 that morning, and which had almost frightened her 
 with its intensity? Was it that she was incapable of 
 deep feeling? She could not think so, for there was 
 one whom she believed she could have loved in just 
 that tremendous way. But then he could not have 
 returned it," she mused, and thereupon proceeded to 
 chide herself for disloyalty both to herself and lover, 
 for allowing the thought to even enter her mind. 
 Harold had been so sure that her love would awaken 
 and for him, that she must make his hope reality. 
 "And it need not be such an impossible matter after 
 all," she tried to believe. "But O, why had he loved 
 her, anyway, or at least, have told her about it just 
 now; she was afraid it would spoil this Summer out 
 
THE MAN IN THE MOON 167 
 
 of which she had expected so much, for them both. 
 But no; she would not let it be spoiled for him, at 
 least; she would try; yes, she would try!" And with 
 this worthy and generous resolve, the poor, worried 
 girl sank into a troubled slumber. 
 
 Sleep did not dispel the unselfish resolution, and 
 she awoke with a very clear conception of what she 
 felt to be her duty in the premises and an earnest 
 wish and determination to do it. To learn to love her 
 lover; this was the unique task that she had set her 
 self to accomplish, and which in the absence of other 
 suitors might not have proven a very difficult under 
 taking; for an adamantine heart could scarcely have 
 withstood the young man's devotion he had eyes for 
 no girl but herself and his most delicate attentions ; 
 while these were coupled also with a religious adher 
 ence to his promise of no further pressing of his suit 
 for the time. 
 
 But there were others. Willard Manning, as we 
 know, did not purpose any half-hearted campaign of 
 conquest, nor could dilatory tactics be looked for in 
 one of his direct nature ; and the preliminary skirmish 
 was begun on the very evening of his arrival ; at the 
 Somerville Hop. 
 
 "Don't you think you've danced enough for a while, 
 Margaret?" he asked, as he claimed the girl for a 
 second and late waltz moreover, with more of re 
 quest than of real inquiry in his tone and manner. 
 "Suppose we rest awhile?" And although reason at 
 
168 BY EARTHQUAKE AND FIRE 
 
 once cautioned that to sit it out might more surely 
 jeopardize her unselfish resolution of the afternoon, 
 there was a compelling fascination about the man at 
 the moment which would have deprived her of the 
 will, even had she felt the wish to refuse. He there 
 fore received the very pleasing reply, "J ust as you 
 say, Will"; and accepting his proffered arm, the girl 
 suffered herself to be led to a seat upon the lantern- 
 lighted veranda. 
 
 Of course there was no attempted love-making, for 
 the time was premature, the place inauspicious. But 
 as the young man adroitly talked of how lonely the 
 week in town had been after their departure, also of 
 his long anticipation of her return from school, and 
 of how glad the prospect of her uninterrupted pres 
 ence in the home in future made him, although she 
 took his words in the first instance as applying to 
 them all, and in the second, as but a natural craving 
 for young companionship which would again mean 
 entertaining and life there, her mother having with 
 drawn absolutely from society these many years 
 nevertheless, his words were falling like the soft drop 
 pings of Hermon's dew upon the seeds of love, which 
 for months had lain dormant, deeply imbedded in the 
 rich, mellow, virgin soil of her heart, swelling them 
 to gradual fullness. And this expansion it was, which 
 gave rise to a sweet feeling of contentment and pleas 
 ure in his society, and also of regret at the interrup 
 tion of their tete-a-tete by the approach of her next 
 partner. 
 
THE MAN IN THE MOON 169 
 
 Willard Manning, however, was not the only other 
 admirer with whom the girl's favors must be divided. 
 'Music hath charms,' and among the musical set espec 
 ially, of which she was soon the life and head their 
 "Prima Donna" they called her there were besides 
 himself, numerous other eligibles whose admiration 
 was not long a matter of doubt. And this set were 
 much together; for, styling themselves the 'Trouba 
 dours/ they would fill in every evening not otherwise 
 occupied, touring the lake; resting upon their oars at 
 each landing for a while to entertain their audiences 
 upon lawn or porch with popular ballads, glees, col 
 lege songs, or plantation melodies, to the tinkle of 
 the mandolin, the twang of the guitar, or the strum 
 ming of the banjo; these evenings of music being 
 really treats, since there were among the lot many 
 excellent performers. Tribute, in the way of refresh 
 ments, would be levied at the close of each programme, 
 with which to wind up the evening in an impromptu 
 little banquet all their own at the 'Enchanted Isle ;'- 
 as they euphoniously dubbed it a pretty little wooded 
 spot near the center of the lake. Thus, as we have 
 said, 'fun and frolic reigned supreme.' 
 
 But a girl may have too many strings to her bow 
 sometimes for real comfort. While the affections, like 
 the physical nature, are not without their hungerings 
 and thirstings, yet for the satisfaction of these also, 
 'enough is as good as a feast' ; even better. Margaret 
 Armstrong soon realized this, when she found the dis- 
 
170 BY EARTHQUAKE AND FIRE 
 
 tractions of too much attention interfering with the 
 accomplishment of her set purpose; and this realiza 
 tion came in time to cast more or less of a blight over 
 this otherwise perfect Summer. There were mo 
 ments when the girl honestly wished that she and 
 Harold Gardiner could have been transported to some 
 desert island, away from them all. Not that he suffered 
 in the least by comparison, but the disquieting fact was 
 being daily borne in upon her that he was no dearer 
 to her than any of the rest; that her feeling towards 
 him was friendship, only; and that love for him was 
 not awakening into life as he had so confidently ex 
 pected, and she, for his sake, so fondly hoped. This 
 unsophisticated girl had yet to learn that romantic love 
 is neier, in fact cannot be compelled. For every Jill 
 there is the Jack ; for every lassie the laddie. Wise and 
 fortunate is the girl who both endeavors to and suc 
 ceeds in finding hers, before the forming of other ties 
 in life shall have made it forever too late ; for in love 
 affairs preeminently, is it true, that the saddest of all 
 sad words are 'it might have been! When they ex 
 press the experience of any heart, real and lasting 
 happiness albeit the truest and highest can only be 
 found in the renunciation of self for the good and 
 happiness of others, and in the cultivation of those 
 more than compensating spiritual aspirations and 
 graces with which a loving Father has endowed His 
 children ; for 'An antidote grows near an ill, in all His 
 ordering.' 
 
THE MAN IN THE MOON 171 
 
 Harold Gardiner at this time seemed evidently not 
 the man intended by Nature for Margaret Arm 
 strong's mate; and as she found all her efforts to re 
 spond to his love prove futile, her advance sympathy 
 for the inevitable suffering which she knew this dis 
 appointment must in time inflict, impelled the kind- 
 hearted girl to a greater tenderness of manner in her 
 intercourse with him; which was not only very mis 
 leading to others, but harmful rather than otherwise 
 to the young man himself, since its motive was mis 
 understood. 
 
 As her fancied preference became apparent, he be 
 lieved himself about to receive the reward for the 
 generosity and patience which he had shown towards 
 the advances and attentions of other gallants. O, how 
 proud and happy he now felt at having fought down 
 the many temptations to jealousy which had assailed 
 him, instead of wronging the girl and belittling him 
 self by yielding to them. He persuaded himself that 
 the return love for which he had pleaded was awaken 
 ing, and the deep joy of contentment filled his wait 
 ing heart. 
 
 This interpretation of motive was an entirely erron 
 eous one, however. The truth was, Margaret Arm 
 strong's added consideration sprang partly from a 
 sense of community of suffering; that 'fellow feeling' 
 which 'makes us wondrous kind.' For as we have 
 said, while all her endeavors to find in her heart a 
 
172 BY EARTHQUAKE AND FIRE 
 
 chord responsive to Harold Gardiner's had proven 
 futile, no better success had attended her equally earn 
 est efforts to stifle a growing but unsought love for 
 another. She despised herself for it, denounced it to 
 herself as a violation of the ethics of true woman 
 hood, and forced herself to believe that the secret suf 
 fering which she was undergoing because of its sup 
 posedly hopeless nature, was but a just punishment 
 for her weakness. And thus, as the happiness of the 
 lover increased, that of his loved one waned; both 
 upon his account and her own. 
 
 Now it had required but a very few days of re 
 newed association under the same roof with him, and 
 the attentions so pleasingly delightful, which Willard 
 Manning at once sought every favoring opportunity to 
 bestow upon her, to cause the swelling seeds in her 
 heart to burst into life ; and with a pang both of alarm 
 and regret the girl suddenly understood that romantic 
 love had at last awakened in her, and for whom. But 
 Margaret's nature contained much of the stuff of 
 which heroes, martyrs are made; and warned by the 
 sweetness and depth of passion that glorious flower 
 of love's beautiful plant which filled her heart, she 
 at once set out to conquer it. 
 
 While her more encouraging manner towards the 
 acknowledged lover from this time misled but to re 
 joice, her marked and suddenly discouraging attitude 
 towards himself was disappointing in the extreme to 
 the unacknowledged one ; and made the quick and ag- 
 
THE MAN IN THE MOON j, 173 
 
 gressive attack upon the citadel of her heart which he 
 had intended, out of the question. Her friendliness, 
 her evident pleasure in his company was as cheeringly 
 noticeable so long as they were surrounded by others ; 
 but the desired and needed opportunities for tete-a-tete 
 she would studiously avoid; or, if, as occasionally 
 happened, the young man's constantly exercised in 
 genuity succeeded in securing for him what seemed 
 a favorable opening or situation, instantly, some ex 
 cuse would be trumped up for leaving him. Her 
 evident wish to escape him at such times, together 
 with her apparent preference for the society of the 
 other, at length forced Willard Manning to the reluc 
 tant conclusion that Harold Gardiner was the man of 
 her choice. Yet upon occasion, seeming indifference 
 to the latter would again cause this young man's ex 
 piring hopes to revive. 
 
 But the swiftly passing weeks were hastening the 
 class-man's play-day to a close. Several times had he 
 attempted to engage the girl in a second conversation 
 upon the subject so heavily weighting his heart; but 
 at each attempt, her pleading, 'Just a little longer, 
 please, Harry' for she would fain postpone the evil 
 day had silenced him. 
 
 The evening before his departure had now arrived 
 however; that of the day in which had occurred the 
 serious accident at the 'Alice' mine, of which the 
 reader has been fully apprised the date also of Mrs. 
 Nichol's lawn fete ; at which croquet by moonlight was 
 
174 BY EARTHQUAKE AND FIRE 
 
 to be the chief feature of entertainment, it will be 
 remembered. 
 
 All through the long Summer day had the anxious 
 young man been endeavoring to learn his fate, ac 
 cording to the previous promise of the girl, yet upon 
 one pretext or another, it seemed, he had been studi 
 ously avoided. But as they found themselves at last 
 together for a moment at one end of the croquet field 
 during a game, wistfully scrutinizing the beautiful face, 
 he spoke softly and said, "This is my last evening with 
 you, you know, Margaret, and I must '' 
 
 "Yes, yes, Harry; I know"; interrupted his com 
 panion quickly, though gently ; "we'll talk at the spring 
 going home, if you wish." 
 
 "If I wish !" exclaimed the impatient lover ; "can you 
 doubt it? What is it to be, Margaret?" he whispered 
 imploringly. "Am I to be made the happiest or the 
 most miserable of men?" 
 
 "Ssh!" cautioned the girl, as another player joined 
 them ; stepping briskly to her wicket for the next play 
 as she spoke. 
 
 Now, as on several other previous bright evenings, 
 a jolly crowd of young people from the lower end of 
 the lake themselves among the number had planned 
 for a home-going by way of the trail, before written 
 of and led by the wag of the colony, Mr. Charles 
 Chapin, the solemn, old woods always rang gaily to 
 the tune of their singing and laughter. 
 
 Fern Spring was situated about one-third of the 
 
THE MAN IN THE MOON 175 
 
 distance from the end of the trail. During this Sum 
 mer it had been enclosed with a pretty rustic arbor, 
 containing many little drinking cups of the same at 
 tractive style; and when it was reached, the customary 
 halt was called for a rest upon its comfortable settees 
 and benches and to refresh themselves with the de 
 licious drink. Their usual master of ceremonies at 
 such times being the irrepressible Mr. Charles Chapin, 
 of whom we have spoken, while the remainder of the 
 party disposed themselves about the arbor, he at once 
 began filling and distributing the numerous cups; 
 holding his own aloft for a moment at the last, to 
 deliver himself of an always expected harangue. 
 
 "Ho, all ye men and maidens !" he cried impres 
 sively; "drink to the many heart-rending, hair-rais 
 ing, perspiration-starting, rock-splitting Summer 
 troths here plighted!" dramatically pointing to a 
 slight crevasse in the wall of rock opposite, in con 
 firmation of his last used adjective. "Yes, here," he 
 continued, "at this very spot, depressed by the callous 
 knees of despairing lovers, whereon I now stand. How 
 often upon such occasions has the man in the moon 
 winked, and then discreetly veiled his eyes for a mo 
 ment with the obscuring vapor of a passing cloud ; as 
 I myself can most truthfully affirm." Concluding, 
 "Now, Bob, let's hear from you." 
 
 When the usual laughter and applause which 
 greeted their leader's remarks had subsided, Bob, one 
 of Gertrude Warfield's great and open admirers, 
 
176 BY EARTHQUAKE AND FIRE 
 
 caused much amusment by responding with "Long 
 live our jolly hostess of the evening, her fair dinner 
 guest, and the artist lover; but blarst him if he ever 
 filches from our loved city its prospective treasure." 
 
 "You next, George!" where-at one of the young 
 members of the Troubadours, with a sweeping bow to 
 Margaret, then delivered himself of "The beautiful 
 prima donna in our midst; may she win her laurels 
 without the aid of the divorce court or stolen jewels." 
 
 "Now, Bert"; next called the toast-master; and 
 without hesitation, another young sprig rattled off 
 "Here's to sparkling water good for wifey, son and 
 daughter drink it down !" obeying his own command 
 by draining his cup and calling for another. 
 
 "What did you leave the old man out for?" inquired 
 the leader ; as he re-filled the emptied cups. 
 
 "Had to ; wouldn't fit in ; besides, he generally wants 
 something stronger/' returned the youth. 
 
 "Truly, most excellent reasons, young sir"; said 
 Charlie. "Now, Will," he commanded, "toast the 
 ladies." Whereupon, Willard Manning, in none too 
 gracious a frame of mind towards the opposite sex 
 because of Margaret's disappointing demeanor towards 
 himself, in a rather sarcastic vein responded with, 
 "The ladies ; 'in our hour of ease,' for Easter bonnets 
 prone to tease. 'When pain and anguish wring the 
 brow/ progressive euchre claims them now, or whist 
 club needs them at the prow." 
 
 This most uncomplimentary allusion was of course 
 
THE MAN IN THE MOON 177 
 
 greeted with a storm of indignant protest from the 
 girls of the party. ''You were told to toast, not roast 
 us, Mr. Manning !" "That's a libel on our sex !" "I 
 wonder how many refusals it took to bring him to 
 that scandalous opinion of us ?" "Why I thought your 
 mother had him better trained than that, Margaret!" 
 "You'll have to take him in hand, that's sure!" and 
 the like, followed each other in quick succession. 
 
 "Thanks; I most emphatically decline the honor"; 
 laughed Margaret; adding, "for he must surely be 
 an impossibility, since Mamma has failed so signally." 
 
 "Faith, but you're a nervy one, Will, to get off the 
 like o' that here and your market not made yet !" com 
 mented the leader. Finishing, "But truth's stranger 
 than fiction, any day." 
 
 "Well! it seems to me that you're only making a 
 bad matter worse, Charlie Chapin." The leader's sis 
 ter pouted in an aggrieved manner as she spoke. "Only 
 adding insult to injury." 
 
 Her brother hastened to apologize. "I beg a thou 
 sand pardons, ladies. No offence meant, I assure 
 you; but we men have to stand together you know, 
 to even half way hold our own," he went on, diplo 
 matically. Then, "Fred, you give us one on saw 
 bones.'' 
 
 "Well, here's to our departing butcher. May his 
 slaughterings all be crowned with success, to the end 
 that his pockets soon bulge with fat fees." 
 
 "Your turn now, Doc." 
 
178 BY EARTHQUAKE AND FIRE 
 
 But Harold Gardiner's thoughts had been far away 
 from the general merriment, on a, to him, much more 
 important matter; and after meditatively scratching 
 his head for a moment, he begged to be let off. But 
 the leader was inexorable. "Not much; no partiality 
 here"; he announced. Adding, "if you can't rake up 
 a better motif, here's one!" at the same time passing 
 the reluctant toaster a fifth cupful from the spring. 
 
 "O, well, if I must bore the company," protested 
 Harold, with a decidedly bored expression upon his 
 own face "here's to plain, unadulterated aqua pur a; a 
 fine ablutant, but the more you drink, the more you 
 can't think; a shining example right here." Tapping 
 his pate, upon the crown of which at the time, the 
 hair was beginning to thin a trifle. "And now, Chapin, 
 finish up !" he concluded, tersely. 
 
 "Well my think factory seems to be shut down for 
 repairs, too, for a wonder"; remarked the leader, 
 facetiously, after a moment's pretended reflection ; "so 
 I'll have to take the same stale subject I guess; for 
 tunately it's not a dry one. Here's to the cup that 
 cheers the nit inebriate; that's me. And now let's 
 move on'' ; he ended ; when this closing toast had been 
 drank and the cups replaced. And singing lustily, 
 'We won't go home until morning,' the fun-loving 
 procession once more started down the narrow trail. 
 
 Now, as pre-arranged, Margaret Armstrong and 
 Harold Gardiner had lingered at the spring; but Wil- 
 lard Manning, who brought up the rear a prey to 
 
THE MAN IN THE MOON 179 
 
 melancholy reflections was the only one of the party 
 to notice the fact ; and he made no comments. Once, 
 however, when the leader had called out in his jocular 
 way, 'what meaneth this lack of hilarity upon the back 
 seat?' he had replied a little testily, "O, we're think 
 ing, for a change ! follow our good example." But 
 as they came out upon the highway and the good- 
 nights were being said, the absentees were of course, 
 missed. 
 
 "Why where's our prima donna and saw-bones?" 
 exclaimed one young man, in surprise. 
 
 "Conspicuous by their absence, all right"; replied 
 the leader, after looking the party carefully over. 
 "Well, they're pioneers up here and can find their way 
 home I suppose when they get ready to come; we 
 won't lose any sleep upon their accounts." Then, as 
 if moved by a sudden suspicion, he glanced quickly 
 up at the moon. "Did you see that wink?" he asked; 
 with mock seriousness. "No wonder the Doctor was 
 in such a stew for me to quit !" And as a diaphonous 
 cloud just then went sailing across the face of the 
 distant satellite, their wag threw back his head and 
 burst into a hearty laugh ; slapping his knee a sound 
 ing whack as he exclaimed, "Another Summer troth; 
 by Jingo!" 
 
CHAPTER X. 
 
 RENUNCIATION. 
 
 " 'You will not refuse me somewhat of a 
 lover's privilege for this once, I am sure,' he 
 pleaded; immediately clasping the girl in a fond 
 embrace and tenderly kissing away the tears 
 that blinded her eyes." 
 
 Now the rest at the spring had in reality been but 
 a very short one. The giving and drinking of the 
 various toasts, with the laughter, applause or com 
 ments attending upon each had been continuous, thus 
 consuming all told only a tiny fraction of an hour; 
 but for Harold Gardiner, an Eternity could scarcely 
 have dragged out its weary length at a more monot 
 onous pace. He wondered how he could ever have 
 found anything to enjoy in such stupid nonsense, as 
 he now mentally classed it ; yet it was just such diver 
 sions as these, that made up the sum total of the rest 
 ful and healthful daily programme of their simple 
 life at the lake ; where every trifling happening or 
 occasion was seized upon as a pretext for fun and 
 frolic. This night, however, it had all jarred upon 
 the impatient young man. 
 
 He had slowly followed their companions for a few 
 paces as they again took to the trail, to avert sus 
 picion as to the intended defection of Margaret and 
 
RENUNCIATION 181 
 
 himself from their ranks. The girl, however, had re 
 mained at the arbor; and as she stood thoughtful, 
 motionless, with hands lightly clasped before her in 
 its artistic entrance, the silvery moonbeams falling 
 full upon and around her, she presented the appear 
 ance of a most realistic, full length portrait, set in a 
 rustic frame; and a strikingly handsome portrait, at 
 that. 
 
 From her dainty kid boots to the ribbon about her 
 throat, she was a symphony in white ; gowned in a 
 daintily tucked and ruffled organdie of an exceeding 
 fineness of texture and perfection of fit and finish, 
 the full, deep-yoked waist confined to her figure 
 by a softly folded satin belt, into which was tucked a 
 generous cluster of most perfect scarlet geraniums, 
 with which Harold had presented her at starting. Her 
 wavy, dark hair, turned carelessly back from a snowy 
 forehead, was arranged at the nape of the neck in a 
 loose knot; against one side of which nestled a sec 
 ond cluster of the same gorgeous blooms, which 
 scarcely rivaled the rich coloring, now, as at all times, 
 running riot in her cheeks. A wealth of tenderness 
 lurked in the depths of her dark eyes, though a close 
 analysis would have shown it to be a pitying tender 
 ness; such as might dwell in the eyes of a mother 
 grieving over a wayward child, or in those of a 
 Saviour sorrowing for a lost world. 
 
 As the retreating footsteps and singing began to 
 die away a little in the distance, Harold turned quickly 
 
182 BY EARTHQUAKE AND FIRE 
 
 back towards the arbor ; delight, expectation, longing, 
 speaking no less eloquently from the spring in his 
 step, than from the smile upon his lips. 
 
 Reaching the girl, charmed beyond expression at 
 the exquisite ensemble which met his gaze, he took 
 her unresisting hands in his and carried them for a 
 moment eagerly, yet almost reverently to his lips. 
 "And now, Margaret!" he exclaimed, in a tone of 
 passionate inquiry; his whole soul in his eyes. 
 
 "Harry," began the girl, while something like tears 
 seemed suddenly to tremble upon the silken lashes and 
 in the warm tones of the softly modulated voice 
 "when you told me of your love that other morning, 
 a new world opened before me, and no girl could have 
 been prouder and happier than I. The pride is no 
 whit less tonight, but the happiness has been drowned 
 in sorrow because of the disappointing answer which 
 I must give you. I have studied my heart carefully, 
 Harry, and there is no different sentiment there ; 
 friendship has not given place to love." 
 
 After a moment's hesitation during which he had 
 led the girl to a seat within the arbor and taken his 
 place beside her the lover slowly replied, "I cannot 
 deny that this is a disappointment to me, Margaret, 
 and a good deal of a surprise as well ; for your grow 
 ing kindness and graciousness of manner during the 
 happy weeks that have passed since our former con 
 versation on this subject, have tempted me to the 
 sweet belief that I was becoming something more, and 
 dearer to you, than a mere friend." 
 
RENUNCIATION 183 
 
 "I hope it has not been mistaken kindness upon my 
 part which has led me to this course, Harry/' spoke 
 the girl, regretfully, "but believe me, it was prompted 
 solely by my advance sympathy for your coming dis 
 appointment." 
 
 "That is like you, dearest," returned the grateful 
 young man, "but you must not let the need of addi 
 tional time worry you; it will not me. There is no 
 cause for haste Margaret"; he went on indulgently. 
 "In one of your earnest nature, love will no doubt be 
 longer taking root; but I shall have no occasion for 
 complaint upon that score, for it will make it but the 
 deeper and stronger; and I could never be satisfied 
 with a weak love." 
 
 "Nor could I be guilty of offering you one less fer 
 vent than your own, Harry, and O, how hard I have 
 tried to feel it." 
 
 An almost imperceptible sensation of pained aston 
 ishment that it should have required effort -to love 
 him took possession of the ardent wooer for an in 
 stant, at the girl's last words; but passed as quickly, 
 leaving no faintest trace of resentment in his words 
 or manner as he protested confidently, "but it will 
 come, Margaret, it will come ; and I can wait, as I 
 told you before." 
 
 "I must not let you build upon false hopes though, 
 Harry," here ventured the girl, tenderly, "since " 
 
 "But I am perfectly willing to wait, Margaret," in 
 terrupted her companion, "and to take my chances 
 
184 BY EARTHQUAKE AND FIRE 
 
 for the future. I simply cannot consider this answer 
 as final; why life would become the most harrowing 
 reality for me if I felt that I must do that ! No dear 
 est ; let me leave you with hope, at least," he pleaded. 
 "I can be more patient now that I know you to be 
 still mistress of your heart; that it has not yet been 
 given to another." 
 
 "Harry," now put in the girl, desperately, "if I 
 could give you the least ground for it, how gladly 
 would I have you continue to cherish this hope for 
 which you plead; but I cannot, and it would be the 
 very refinement of cruelty for me to deceive you fur 
 ther. I am no longer the mistress of my heart as you 
 believe. Love has awakened in it, but unfortunately, 
 it is" 
 
 "Not for another, Margaret!" burst out the man, 
 incredulously shaking off the hand almost savagely 
 which had been laid upon his in token of sympathy as 
 the girl spoke, and jumping to his feet as though elec 
 trified by her words "Don't tell me that!" 
 
 "Yes, Harry, for another !" was the slow, sorrowful 
 reply. 
 
 "O, God!" came with a groan from the young man's 
 lips; as he sank back upon the settee and buried his 
 face within his hands. 
 
 'If you want a man to sense the pains of Hell, 
 Before you pitch him in just keep him in 
 Heaven, a spell.' 
 
RENUNCIATION 185 
 
 Harold Gardiner had certainly been very near to 
 this beatific state for a long time, as we know ; and 
 Curing these later weeks, he had so magnified every 
 morsel of seeming encouragement, that the awaken 
 ing from his happy dream of almost confident hope 
 fulness, was indeed a rude one. 
 
 Now, there are colorless hours in life which might 
 easily be condensed into seconds; and there are sec 
 onds, so full of happening, so fraught with conse 
 quence, that eventful years might almost be subtracted 
 from them, and yet leave a remainder. 
 
 For many, many hundreds of such consequential 
 seconds did Harry Gardiner sit thus, with bowed head 
 and covered face; the convulsive tremors which 
 from time to time shook his frame, alone giving evi 
 dence of life within it. Once Margaret, alarmed, her 
 self torn with emotion, had lain a hand gently upon 
 his shoulder; but he had moved away at the touch, 
 as though it were repulsive to him ; and she had ven 
 tured no further manifestation, although her heart 
 was bleeding in common with his. 
 
 In that bitter hour, memory as though to mock his 
 unhappy fate was busy setting in review before him 
 the long, joyous years, first of boyish dream and later 
 of manly hope, in which he had been the adoring sub 
 ject, and she the unconscious queen; the inspiration 
 and the fulfillment, the Alpha and the Omega of all 
 his thoughts and longings, his plans and expectations ; 
 until she had become so interwoven with the fabric of 
 
186 BY EARTHQUAKE AND FIRE 
 
 his being as to seem really a part, a vital part of it. 
 And now, this cruel disenchantment ; this ruthless lev 
 eling of his fairy structure with a word. "O, it is too 
 hard!" he protested to himself, angrily; "I will not 
 submit to it ! I will not be cast off thus ! she may love 
 another if she will, but she must at least divide her 
 love with me; I will accept a part now; the time will 
 come when I will have it all; for there are means, and 
 I will use them; I will hesitate at nothing; stoop to 
 anything, but I will have her!" 
 
 But at length, he slowly raised to his adored one, a 
 face, no longer that of the light-hearted boy it had 
 hitherto appeared, but one speedily transformed by 
 an agonizing experience into that of a man ; and not 
 of a man in years merely, but of one in whose eyes the 
 gleam of victory told of the hard won battle of a 
 strong man over self. 
 
 "Can you forgive my rudeness?" he offered peni 
 tently; drawing nearer to the girl once more and 
 taking her hands in both of his. "I have been such a 
 brute ! But O, Margaret, you can have no conception of 
 what this means to me" ; he added with indescribable 
 pathos in tones and manner. "Never again to awaken 
 with the long cherished hope of one day calling you 
 my own; never again to be able to plod through the 
 tasks of the day, cheered by the thought of your proud 
 interest in me; never again to have my dreams glori 
 fied with the vision of a home blessed by your loving 
 companionship. And yet, believe me Margaret," he 
 
RENUNCIATION 187 
 
 assured her, "my heart contains no reproaches. I 
 alone am to blame for this joyless awaking, for I have 
 deliberately set my face against the truth. I have 
 more than once seen your eye brighten, your breath 
 come quicker, the color deepen in your cheek at his 
 approach ; but like the fool that I was, I have blinded 
 myself to it all. Love is ever thus you know, to what 
 it does not wish to see, and had you been so unwise 
 as to hide the fact of your awakened heart from me, 
 out of sympathy as I fancy you may have felt at 
 times like doing upon my soul, Margaret, I believe 
 I would have been tempted to accept the sacrifice even 
 though I knew it to be such. But he has been gen 
 erous, noble and good as he always is, and I cannot 
 be too thankful that you did not, for you will be happy 
 with him, and from that knowledge my happiness will 
 flow; since you can never cease to be as you always 
 have been, dearer to me than self; yes, dearer even 
 than life!" 
 
 Now Margaret Armstrong's feelings upon learning 
 that those secret emotions of her heart which she had 
 believed so effectually concealed from all had been 
 fathomed, and especially by this young man, contained 
 probably an equal mixture of mortification and aston 
 ishment. While he had mentioned no one by name, 
 'a guilty conscience needs no accuser' ; and there was 
 no doubting to whom he referred. O, how she longed 
 to tell him of the hopeless heaviness in her own heart, 
 which made it capable of comprehending his so much 
 
188 BY EARTHQUAKE AND FIRE 
 
 more fully than he supposed, and at the same time 
 made it as much an object for sympathy as his own. 
 But many considerations forbade this, and she felt 
 obliged to suffer in silence. 
 
 "Yes, Harry," confessed the girl, as he ceased 
 speaking, "there have been times when it has seemed 
 impossible for me to tell you this, and dash the cup 
 of hope with its attendant happiness from your lips ; 
 but I see now how useless and wrong it would have 
 been for me to have attempted to hide it from you, 
 and it is a great comfort to me to know that you ap 
 prove my course. But Harry, much as I appreciate 
 and am flattered by your devotion to me, remember. 
 I would not have it doom you to a solitary life ; it will 
 be one of the happiest days of mine when I hear of 
 your engagement and marriage to some girl who fully 
 returns, and is therefore worthy of your splendid 
 love." 
 
 "That you must not expect, for it can never be, Mar 
 garet"; replied her companion, with instant decisive 
 ness. "Would you have me offer to another" he went 
 on, almost chidingly, "a heart which contained a 
 grave ? One haunted by the ghost of a dead love ? But 
 mine would be an even greater insult, for it would 
 contain a living love, and a throne whereon sat a 
 crowned queen, at whose feet my daily homage would 
 be paid. Would you have me offer a secondary place 
 then, to one who bore the sacred name of wife? Per 
 haps I would have loved you too dearly, Margaret. 
 
RENUNCIATION 189 
 
 I think I would have made an idol of you, and God 
 would never have stood for that. No, dearest, since 
 I am denied life's crowning glory, the love of the one I 
 love, I will never marry. But this shall not make me 
 hard and bitter" ; he hastened to affirm ; "for he whose 
 heart has suffered and not been made tenderer there 
 by, has in it less of the man than brute, 'tis said. From 
 the cup of anguish and the bloody sweat of this my 
 Gethsemane, my heart will come forth very sensitive 
 to other's woes, I trust. My profession will bring me 
 continually into contact with suffering and sorrow, 
 and I shall try to find consolation both in an unselfish 
 giving of the best that is in me to the alleviation of 
 physical pain, and in helping to bind up the broken 
 hearted. Happiness, we are told, lies not after all in 
 selfishness, but in service; and I, too, will be happy." 
 
 "Surely I hope so, Harry," answered the girl, earn 
 estly ; deeply affected by the young man's noble words ; 
 "and yet upon your account I cannot help feeling that 
 it would have been so much better if we had never 
 met." 
 
 "Margaret, He who sees the end from the begin 
 ning, knew best; let us leave it to Him. For myself, 
 I am thankful for this love, hopeless though it has 
 proven to be, for without its blessed inspiration I 
 doubt if I should ever have accomplished what I al 
 ready have and still hope to, and as the beacon light 
 of my life it has guided me safe past those rocks and 
 shoals upon which so many less favored young 
 
190 BY EARTHQUAKE AND FIRE 
 
 mariners have made shipwreck. Temptations crowd 
 and jostle each other for place upon the ocean of a 
 young man's life, Margaret, and there is no restrain 
 ing influence so powerful upon him as an absorbing 
 passion for some pure young girl." 
 
 "And now, must we indeed part, Margaret?" he 
 faltered, as the girl arose to leave the arbor; con 
 cealing as best he could the exceeding bitterness of 
 the pang. "Then let our good-byes be said here, in 
 this hallowed seclusion; for I could not bear simply 
 to take a formal leave of you in presence of others. 
 My very early start will be sufficient excuse for your 
 not seeing me off. You will not refuse me somewhat 
 of a lover's privilege for this once, I am sure"; he 
 pleaded, immediately clasping the girl in a fond em 
 brace, and tenderly kissing away the tears which 
 blinded her eyes. "Queen of my heart and life, for 
 ever," he murmured passionately though with an 
 enforced resignation as he held her thus, "farewell ! 
 Would to God that I might be permitted to exchange 
 whatever of brightness that may come into my life," 
 he went on clothing his thoughts as before, in a 
 poesy of expression which was with him an innate 
 vernacular "for the inevitable clouds which must at 
 times darken yours; though this is of course a boon 
 which cannot be granted me. But may there be only 
 just enough of those clouds, dearest, to make its sun 
 set a glorious one ; and whether your heart thrills with 
 joy or bleeds in sorrow, remember always that if 
 
RENUNCIATION 191 
 
 known to me, mine will be beating in unison with it. 
 I have but one more request, Margaret ; these flowers 
 that you have worn tonight." 
 
 Choked with emotion, the girl took from her waist 
 and hair the flowers which had been his gift ; and with 
 trembling hand, laid them silently in the young man's 
 waiting one. Then, suffering her quivering lips to be 
 raised to his, received upon them the long, despairing 
 kiss of quenchless love, but shattered hopes. 
 
CHAPTER XI. 
 
 DISPELLED MISUNDERSTANDING. 
 
 " 'You "don't mean to say that you've been 
 loving me ever since then, Will'?" 
 
 When they reached the house our young friends 
 were both much relieved to find that the family had 
 retired; for neither was in any mood for conversation 
 and visiting. As Margaret bent over her mother for 
 the usual affectionate good-night, she said : "I'm very 
 tired Mamma, and would like to sleep late in the 
 morning." 
 
 "Very well, daughter; but have you forgotten that 
 Harold leaves us then?" 
 
 "No, Mamma, but so early that we have said our 
 good-byes tonight ; he doesn't expect to see me again." 
 
 "Is he taking my little girl's heart with him ?" asked 
 the doubly interested mother; detaining her hand and 
 drawing the girl to a sitting posture beside her upon 
 the edge of the bed ; "for I know that was his dearest 
 wish"; she explained. 
 
 "No, he isn't, Mamma," replied the daughter, sadly, 
 "although he has offered me his, filled with such a 
 love as any girl should be proud and glad to accept. 
 I think it must be fully equal to Papa's for you" 
 
DISPELLED MISUNDERSTANDING 193 
 
 which in Margaret Armstrong's estimation had always, 
 and rightly, represented the very acme of devotion. 
 "O, Mamma, Harry is a prince!" she finished, with 
 glistening eyes. 
 
 "Why did you refuse him then, daughter?" 
 "Because my heart could not respond to his, Mam 
 ma. Why, Harry has been loving me for the last ten 
 years!" she went on, with marked surprise. "You 
 know how devoted he has always been to me, though 
 I had never thought of it as anything but a continu 
 ance of our childish fondness for each other, until he 
 told me of this love the morning after our arrival, and 
 begged for mine in return. Ever since then I have 
 been trying to make myself believe that I really could 
 return it ; but it was no use, and it has nearly broken 
 my heart to tell him so, as I have been doing on the 
 way home. The disappointment was a terrible one to 
 him, Mamma! I could not have believed it possible 
 for anything to have caused a man such suffering as 
 that did him for a while ; it almost made me feel that 
 I had done wrong in refusing him. Did I, Mamma?" 
 "No, daughter"; answered the high-minded parent, 
 with unhesitating decision. "The wrong would have 
 been for you to have accepted him knowing that you 
 had no love to give, for you would have been sure to 
 make his life unhappy, and it is a crime to dispense 
 avoidable unhappiness. The greatest care and deepest 
 self-examination are needed in choosing a husband 
 or wife, Margaret," she continued, with great serious- 
 
194 BY EARTHQUAKE AND FIRE 
 
 ness, "and even with it all, mistakes will sometimes 
 be made. Balzac, you know, has one of his heroines 
 to say : 'There is but one man in the world for each of 
 us; and frequently, he whom we were formed to 
 treasure, is not the one whom we have married be 
 lieving that we loved him.' Ordinarilly, I think a 
 woman who is loved and well treated by her husband, 
 even if there be not this perfect heart union between 
 them, will be sufficiently absorbed in the relationship 
 of wife and of mother, if she be blessed with chil 
 dren as to not recognize her true mate should she 
 be so unfortunate as to meet him when too late; but 
 it must be an inconceivably sad experience for one who 
 does. An exalted sense of duty, an over-plus, almost, 
 of honor and principle, and a firm faith, one or all of 
 these will be needed to keep such an one from forget 
 ting her irrevocable 'until death us do part.' Now 
 Harold is a splendid fellow, one whom I have always 
 thought much of and greatly admired, and I should 
 have been both proud and happy to have taken him 
 to my heart as a son, had he been your choice; but I 
 cannot be too thankful that you did not defraud him. 
 Did you refuse him because of love for another, daugh 
 ter?" ventured the unobtrusive mother, delicately. 
 
 Now either one of the girl's admitted suitors would 
 have been a perfectly agreeable son-in-law to Mrs. 
 Armstrong, as we know. Simply that her daughter's 
 heart should be sole arbiter in choosing between them, 
 uninfluenced by an expressed preference of her own 
 
DISPELLED MISUNDERSTANDING 195 
 
 for which this girl would no doubt have asked had 
 she been advised of the proposed suit of either in ad 
 vance was the selfless mother's wish ; and she had 
 therefore refrained purposely, from such advising. But 
 had her direct question at this time been answered, 
 light would have been shed as to the direction of 
 Willard Manning's love, which would have at once 
 removed her daughter's false impressions, and spared 
 both herself and the man much unhappiness. Ex 
 tremely sensitive upon that subject however, the truth 
 ful girl started to reply : "No Mamma" ; but quickly 
 checked herself and instead, begged of her parent not 
 to ask. "I'd rather not answer that question, please, 
 Mamma; at least, not tonight; some other time, per 
 haps." And kissing her mother affectionately, Mar 
 garet retired to her own room. 
 
 "Cecile," she said, as the maid, her attentions fin 
 ished, was about to withdraw "I wish to sleep late 
 in the morning; see that I am not disturbed, please; 
 good-night." 
 
 When the door had closed upon the retreating fig 
 ure, the agitated girl sank upon her knees and offered 
 a fervent prayer for the rejected lover; closing in a 
 burst of relieving tears with a supplication from the 
 beautiful duet which they had so many times sung 
 together: 'O, Angels of Heaven, guard him from 
 evil!' While in the adjoining moon-lit room sat 
 Harry, bowed in an attitude of the deepest dejection, 
 but with dry eyes riveted upon the likeness of a young 
 
196 BY EARTHQUAKE AND FIRE 
 
 girl who strongly resembled herself, though many 
 years her junior, which he held before him, and by a 
 strange coincidence, pathetically repeating from the 
 closing words of the same ardent love-song: 'Life's 
 long dream is o'er; farewell! farewell!' 
 
 In yet another room of this same hospitable cot 
 tage, Willard Manning had also passed a restless, un 
 happy night, endeavoring to prepare himself for the 
 offering of congratulations the following morning, 
 upon the expected announcement of a distasteful en 
 gagement, which must surely follow the recorded 
 loitering of the evening before at Fern Spring, so he 
 believed. He was much more than surprised there 
 fore, to learn that none existed; and the knowledge 
 gained from the mother that the girl was yet free, was 
 relieving and cheering in the extreme. 
 
 The only young man in the house after Harold 
 Gardiner's departure, it was but natural that he should 
 now pay the more attentions to its daughter ; and no 
 rankling feeling of pique prevented his hastening to 
 avail himself of the favoring circumstance at first. But 
 to the girl's longing yet troubled heart, his gallantries 
 were such torturous delights, that she preferred to 
 forego them, and he was therefore kept at arm's length 
 as before. 
 
 There was never any lack of proffered escort from 
 among whom for the popular young beauty to choose 
 when a jaunt of any sort was afoot, and the seeming 
 gaiety of her purposely promiscuous favoring of these 
 
DISPELLED MISUNDERSTANDING 197 
 
 many, soon inclined this one whose mortifying 1 ex 
 perience it usually was to find himself among the re 
 jected to wonder if he had not, after all, been mis 
 taken in the girl, and if she had not in her the mak 
 ings of a genuine coquette a type of woman that he 
 most thoroughly despised. 
 
 But a near-at-hand day was to reveal to him how 
 little he had understood Margaret, and what an in 
 justice he had done her by such a suspicion, even. 
 A trip for this enlightening day had been arranged at 
 Clayton Nichols' suggestion, for Gertrude now his 
 fiancee of a week Margaret, Willard and himself, to 
 one of the points of especial interest in the vicinity, 
 Sky-top Mountain; distant from the lake about five 
 miles. 
 
 Now this name 'Sky-top' was somewhat mislead 
 ing, since the mountain was not noted for height, as 
 was many of its neighbors, but rather for its steep 
 ness, picturesqueness and unusual features. It was 
 really one of the low peaks of the range, whose ascent 
 however was difficult and laborious because of an utter 
 absence of marked trails. By some mighty convul 
 sion of Nature in a probably far-a-way past, its low 
 est spur had been rent from it, leaving between it and 
 the part thus detached, a cleft, something over four 
 hundred feet in depth and from two to two and a half 
 in width ; and through this narrow passage the more 
 adventurous spirits of a party who had made the as 
 cent, would take a certain pride in making their way 
 
198 BY EARTHQUAKE AND FIRE 
 
 down again to the road or trail whence they had 
 started. 
 
 Now the parting of the mountain had been a ragged 
 tear; not a clean-cut stroke. Resultant points and 
 ledges of rock, which jutted out from either side of the 
 'Great Crevice' as the cleft had been named at 
 frequent, though irregular intervals, served the pur 
 pose of steps; and down these, a sort of zigzag de 
 scent had to be made. Covered with a greenish damp 
 ness which inclined to slipperiness, and with the dis 
 tances between, in places, such as to make it neces 
 sary to all but relinquish hold upon the upper ere the 
 feet were firmly planted upon the next below, it was 
 a feat which required a certain amount of courage 
 to attempt, and steady nerve to perform; but given 
 these and the exercise of due caution, could be and 
 occasionally was performed. 
 
 The only real danger connected with the undertak 
 ing lay in a possible meeting with a Rattler; for in 
 common with many of the mountainous sections of 
 our country, the Rockies are infested by these venom 
 ous snakes ; thousands of them traveling to their num 
 erous caves at the approach of Winter each year, 
 where they huddle together in bunches until the end 
 of the cold season, then mostly come forth again to 
 bask in the warmth of Spring. 
 
 But although there was always the possibility of 
 such an encounter, there was no well authenticated 
 account of one on record, so far as this jolly quartette 
 
DISPELLED MISUNDERSTANDING 199 
 
 knew; and such a contingency was certainly farthest 
 from their thoughts, as they enjoyed their leisurely 
 ride over the hard mountain road on that loveliest of 
 Summer mornings, to the picturesque canyon out of 
 which 'Sky-top' reared itself. 
 
 A tempting luncheon to which their sharpened ap 
 petites had done full justice, had been dispatched and 
 followed by an hour of wholesomely lively chat, when, 
 dressed in complete Alpine suits and with stout staffs 
 to aid them, they had at length reached the summit of 
 the tedious spur ; their horses left to await their return, 
 tethered in the canyon below. After a needed rest at 
 the top, Clayton Nichols, who had several times before 
 made the descent followed of course, by Gertrude 
 started to lead the little party through the Crevice. 
 
 "O, please wait 'til we get part down; a little out 
 of the way, Mr. Manning"; requested the girl, with 
 some trepidation, as that gentleman began an immedi 
 ate following. "These steps look pretty slippery," 
 she explained, "and I can't say that I altogether relish 
 the idea of having any one light on my head in such 
 close quarters as this." 
 
 "Why certainly, Miss Warfield; with pleasure"; 
 replied the man, drawing back. "Just call out when 
 you're ready for us to start." 
 
 "Thanks; we will"; returned the other, disappear 
 ing from view beneath a projecting ledge, as she 
 spoke. 
 
 "All O. K.," called back her escort a little later, 
 
200 BY EARTHQUAKE AND FIRE 
 
 when they two had covered nearly a third of the dis 
 tance; and at the summons, Willard and Margaret at 
 once began their descent. 
 
 A rambling fire of comment and exclamation, ac 
 companied by more or less of light laughter, was now 
 indulged in by the two detachments, and all went 
 'merry as a marriage bell' ; until the vanguard, with a 
 gay 'good-bye/ had passed from the Crevice out into 
 the canyon again, and the rear had also left more than 
 half of its descent above it. 
 
 Suddenly, from the ledge on the opposite side upon 
 which the man's next stand must be made and but 
 two feet below, came an ominous sound; and quickly 
 drawing back the foot which he was even then in the 
 act of lowering to it and looking in the direction 
 whence the sound had come, Willard was horrified to 
 behold upon it an immense snake, which had made its 
 way to the spot through a horizontal fissure in the 
 rocks; drawn, no doubt, by the sound of voices. 
 
 Now no person who has ever seen one of these 
 dangerous reptiles coiled, ready to strike, with its enor 
 mous, triangular shaped head elevated, its protruding 
 fangs, its brilliant, fiery-irised eyes from which seem 
 to shoot forth venom, and its whole body vibrating 
 with such excitement as to cause the buttons of its 
 tail to rattle together with a sharp, clicking sound, can 
 ever possibly forget its repulsive, forbidding appear 
 ance. 
 
 Such was the sight which met Willard Manning's 
 
DISPELLED MISUNDERSTANDING 201 
 
 eyes; and though he had never in life been thought 
 of as in the slightest degree a coward, yet for one ter 
 rible moment as he gazed almost fascinated at the 
 vicious, ugly looking thing, and realized the narrow 
 escape he himself had just had, as well as the grave 
 danger which yet confronted them both for that com 
 panions of the hideous thing might be in close prox 
 imity and at any moment make their appearance 
 through corresponding fissures, above, below or on a 
 level with them, was but a reasonable fear to enter 
 tain the blood in his veins seemed to congeal and he 
 felt all the hair of his body beginning to stand on end. 
 
 It was impossible for them to go back, for the reach 
 immediately above had been a long one, and his com 
 panion could not possibly have secured sufficient pur 
 chase upon the slippery edge of the projection to draw 
 herself up again, nor was the cleft wide enough at this 
 point for her escort to crowd past and assist her, as 
 he became possessed of the wild idea of attempting, 
 for an instant; although to have done so would have 
 meant a certain fall to probable death on the rocks 
 below, for them both. There was therefore no other 
 alternative than to go on, but the enemy must first 
 be dispatched. 
 
 Reaching back to his hip, the man took from his 
 belt a sharp, short-handled camp hatchet, always car 
 ried upon such trips for any emergency which might 
 arise. "Don't move or speak, Margaret!" he now 
 commanded sternly, to the astonished girl two steps 
 
202 BY EARTHQUAKE AND FIRE 
 
 above; and then at once loosing his hold upon the 
 projection overhead, stooped, and bracing himself as 
 best he could against the rocky wall, raised his hatchet, 
 and with a terrific blow which must not fail, bore down 
 the angry viper's head to the ledge and severed it 
 from its body. 
 
 But his footing upon the narrow, slippery, project 
 ing shelf, had been too insecure for so violent a mo 
 tion ; and losing his balance, the man pitched forward 
 and went crashing headlong after the dismembered 
 head, which had fallen to the bottom of the Crevice. 
 
 With her heart at a standstill, and rooted to the 
 spot as she had been by the sense of some imminent 
 danger conveyed by her companion's extraordinary 
 command, Margaret Armstrong stood transfixed with 
 horror at the quick blow which followed, and the sick 
 ening sound of his falling body as it went bounding 
 down against the jagged sides of the cleft, until a 
 death-like silence told of its rest at the bottom. Then 
 she opened her mouth to scream ; to call for help ; but 
 "Will!" "Clayton!" "Gertie!" each in turn froze upon 
 her lips. A feeling of frenzied haste to reach the man 
 she loved, now took possession of her, filling her with 
 an almost irresistible mad impulse to fling herself 
 down, and join him in the probably ghastly death 
 which had been his fate. But the blessed self-control 
 in the girl's nature now asserted itself and stood her 
 in good stead for a time. Once, several years before, 
 she had been through the Crevice with her father ; and 
 
DISPELLED MISUNDERSTANDING 203 
 
 by the remembrance of the location of most of the 
 jutting points thus obtained, was able to make her 
 way with greater confidence and speed, down past the 
 still writhing but fortunately harmless body of the 
 snake which she now saw for the first time on and 
 on until the unconscious man was reached. 
 
 "O, Will ! Will ! speak to me !" cried Margaret fever 
 ishly, kissing the bruised and bleeding face as she 
 knelt over him for a moment to lay her ear to his 
 heart. But there was no response to her call; and 
 snatching the soft felt hat from her head and placing 
 it upon a rock at her side, the terrified girl laid the 
 loved head tenderly upon it, then rushed on out into 
 the canyon, frantically shouting for their companions. 
 
 Naturally absorbed in each other at this time, and 
 with no thought of mishappening for the rest, the en 
 gaged couple had wandered back to their starting 
 point at the opposite side of the mountain ; but as their 
 friend's piercing, distressed cry rang out upon the 
 stillness, both made an instant dash for the Crevice. 
 
 "Quick! quick!" implored the hatless, wild-eyed, 
 pallid girl as they came in sight; and then, rushing 
 back, the intensity of the strain over now that help 
 was at hand, sank senseless at her unsuspected lover's 
 side. 
 
 "O, is he still alive?" was her tell-tale question a 
 quarter of an hour later, as she opened her eyes and 
 looked up into the tearful, anxious face of her friend 
 bending over them. 
 
204 BY EARTHQUAKE AND FIRE 
 
 "Yes, Margaret, thank God ! his heart and pulse are 
 still beating ; Clayton waited only long enough to make 
 sure of that" ; replied her friend. "But what a fright 
 ful experience you must have had, dear !" she finished, 
 sympathetically stroking her friend's forehead and 
 kissing her repeatedly as she spoke. "But however 
 did he come to fall?" 
 
 "A horrid snake, Gertie" ; shuddered the other ; 
 "and he must have lost his balance killing it; I was 
 above and didn't see. I tried to call out and couldn't, 
 and I don't know how I ever got down the rest of the 
 way. But, O, if you and Clayton had only been here 
 to help, he could have had attention so much sooner; 
 now it may be too late!" she faltered, vainly trying to 
 choke back the tears as she reached over and took 
 the limp hand tenderly in her own. 
 
 "Please don't say that, Margaret !" pleaded her com 
 panion; "for I am already consumed with regret that 
 we were not; but of course we didn't think of any 
 thing happening." 
 
 "I know it Gertie," acknowledged the other; lov 
 ingly pressing the caressing hand, "and I shouldn't 
 have said that. But O, why don't they come!" she 
 exclaimed impatiently, attempting to rise. The 
 strength however, seemed every bit to have gone from 
 her limbs and Margaret sank back with a helpless 
 groan. "Do see if they're not in sight, Gertie?" she 
 begged. 
 
 "Not quite in sight yet, dear," was the report, as 
 
DISPELLED MISUNDERSTANDING 205 
 
 the girl returned from her fruitless quest a moment 
 later. "But they must surely come very soon now, 
 for it seems hours already since Clayton started." 
 
 In an incredibly short time, however, considering 
 the distance, Dr. Lindsay was bending over the in 
 jured man and questioning Margaret as to when and 
 how and distance of the fall. "I find no broken 
 bones," he at length informed the anxious group about 
 him, "but this gash in the temple's an ugly one, and 
 there's a nasty lump at the base of the brain. I'm a 
 little afraid the shock and shake-up may result in a 
 concussion, but we'll hope for the best as to that and 
 any internal injuries; fortunately there's no bleeding 
 from the mouth. It's a great mercy his neck wasn't 
 broken, for he evidently pitched head foremost; and 
 it would have been, no doubt, and some limbs, too, 
 only for those projections which broke the force of 
 the fall. But we must get him home now as quickly 
 and easily as possible." 
 
 Tom, the coachman, having followed in the wake 
 of the others, with the carryall, from which the seats 
 had been removed and springs and a mattress laid 
 upon its floor, the injured man was carried carefully 
 home in this, to be tenderly nursed back to life and 
 health; and principally, by a distracted, because lov 
 ing girl, who could seldom be persuaded to leave his 
 side. There were at first several days of anxious 
 watching, when it was feared that consciousness was 
 doomed never to return; but when the crisis was at 
 
206 BY EARTHQUAKE AND FIRE 
 
 length safely passed, there was relief and joy not alone 
 in one household, but throughout the entire colony 
 for Willard was a universal favorite that day his 
 eyes had first opened with a look of recognition in 
 them. 
 
 "It would be a real pleasure to be sick thus, Mar 
 garet"! were his grateful words to the faithful girl, 
 a few days later, as he opened his eyes from a re 
 freshing nap, to find her, as usual, seated at his bed 
 side in the partially darkened room; a newly received 
 magazine in hand with which to entertain him should 
 he feel so disposed. "Only that I hate to think of the 
 recreation and pleasure it's depriving you of." 
 
 "O, don't worry about that, Will," was the cheery 
 rejoinder, as the young nurse bent over him, and gen 
 tly raising his bandaged head, readjusted the pillows 
 to possibly greater comfort. "It's no deprivation, at 
 all, I assure you. I hope you don't think I could find 
 any enjoyment in such things while one of the family's 
 lying here so sick! Why I'm not quite so heartless 
 as all that, Will! Besides, it's really a pleasure to be 
 able to do a little something towards brightening these 
 tedious hours for you," concluded the girl, warmly. 
 
 "Do you really mean that, Margaret?" exclaimed 
 the sick man eagerly, with manifest delight, and yet 
 as though half inclined to doubt. 
 
 "Do I mean it? why of course I do!" quickly re 
 turned his devoted attendant; adding in a rather hurt 
 tone, "have you any reason to doubt it, Will?" 
 
DISPELLED MISUNDERSTANDING 207 
 
 "Then let it be not only my sick hours, but my well 
 ones, too; my whole life!" burst out the man. "O, 
 Margaret, I love you; be my wife!" he now pleaded; 
 affectionately taking her hand. 
 
 "O, please don't talk that way, Will! now you're 
 spoiling it all!" exclaimed the girl. Instantly with 
 drawing her hand, while a deeply pained look settled 
 upon the beautiful and noble face. For Margaret 
 Armstrong's extremely high sense of honor had been 
 outraged at once by this seeming gross lack of loyalty 
 to a previous and absent sweetheart. Out of mind 
 because out of sight, she thought. 
 
 "But why should I not talk that way, Margaret? 
 Are you not free to listen?" asked the man in quick 
 surprise. 
 
 "Why yes; / am free enough; but you; that other 
 girl!" 
 
 "What other girl, Margaret?" questioned her mys 
 tified companion. 
 
 "Why that Chicago girl; the one you er love!" 
 she blurted out. 
 
 "But I don't love any Chicago girl!" protested the 
 man. "On the contrary I'm not even acquainted with 
 any girl there. Why what put that notion into your 
 head, dearest?" he asked, very lovingly, and again 
 possessing himself of the withdrawn hand. 
 
 "Why Mrs. Nichols said so." 
 
 "There's surely a great mistake or something here, 
 somewheres, Margaret!" now exclaimed the puzzled 
 
208 BY EARTHQUAKE AND FIRE 
 
 man, excitedly. "Such a story as that could only have 
 been made out of whole cloth, and Mrs. Nichols is 
 not a woman to do a thing like that, it seems to me. 
 Besides, she could have no conceivable motive. When 
 did she tell you this?" he demanded. 
 
 "Why don't you remember Will? On the train 
 coming out; when she accused you of being in love"; 
 replied the girl, with some hesitation, and a bit sheep 
 ishly, it must be confessed. 
 
 "Any other time?" persisted the determined ques 
 tioner. 
 
 "No," said Margaret, with a confirming shake of 
 her head. 
 
 "Why my dear girl !" now exclaimed the relieved 
 and smiling lover, as he settled back upon his pillows 
 and drew the 'dear girl' nearer; "how you have been 
 deceiving yourself! Mrs. Nichols was referring to 
 you r 
 
 "Referring to me, Will !" repeated the girl in blank 
 est surprise, though with a noticeably brightening face. 
 "Why how could she know that you loved me, and at 
 that time, too?" 
 
 "Simply because her quick perceptions in such mat 
 ters detected it when we were all at home together 
 last Winter." 
 
 "You don't mean to say that you've been loving me 
 ever since then, Will!" ejaculated the girl, incredu 
 lously. 
 
 "I most certainly have, dearest, and with all my 
 
DISPELLED MISUNDERSTANDING 209 
 
 heart!" came the quick and hearty response to this 
 astonished question. 
 
 "Well then, Will," confessed the enlightened girl, 
 bashfully looking up after a moment's thoughtful 
 pause; "I believe it has been mutual!" 
 
 "Then you are mine, Margaret?" exclaimed the 
 lover rapturously; as with a momentary accession of 
 strength he suddenly assumed a sitting posture. 
 
 "Yes, Will"; whispered the girl, sweetly. 
 
 "Then come to my arms, dearest! my very own, 
 at last!" 
 
 And waiting for no second invitation, a radiant 
 though blushing face was quickly hidden over a heart 
 that had long been held in needless suspense, but 
 whose empty chambers were at length filled to their 
 depths with a far more than compensating satisfaction 
 and joy. 
 
CHAPTER XII. 
 
 TWO WEDDINGS. 
 
 "Since the world began, the Sun had never 
 shone upon two handsomer or happier brides." 
 
 'A merry heart doeth good like a medicine' ; hence, 
 Willard Manning's recovery was so rapid from that 
 glorious day of dispelled misunderstanding, that ten 
 days later found the Armstrong and Nichols homes 
 at the Lake closed for the season, and their erstwhile 
 occupants once more a moving cavalcade over the 
 mountains. Of the charm and delight of their pre 
 vious trip we have already written at length ; but these 
 were mild compared to those of the return, for the 
 whole party was now infected by the exuberant happi 
 ness of four of its number, for whom, since then, a 
 new existence had begun. The Sun of its first bright 
 day had arisen with no cloud casting a shadow 
 athwart its golden beams; in fact, they were yet 
 revelling in the faint, rosy streaks of its new and ever 
 brightening dawn, and every moment was therefore 
 freighted with undimmed lustre and unshadowed joy. 
 
 Ah, those halcyon days! particularly in the life of 
 a girl. For while love is but a part of his life to man, 
 to woman it is the whole. And these early days of 
 love's dream, it is, which furnish a first, and in 
 deed welcome excuse for that extravagant hero wor- 
 
TWO WEDDINGS 211 
 
 ship, so dear to the average feminine heart; when to 
 Angelina's innocent, confident love, which doubt can 
 not assail, Algernon is not merely a hero, but the 
 actual composite of all the virtues of all the heroes 
 and all the saints of all the ages. Blissful ignorance! 
 where is the disappointed soul bitter enough or cruel 
 enough to disturb it? 
 
 Mrs. Nichols was also in an exceedingly jubilant 
 frame of mind, for she was hastening home to meet 
 'Georgie'; now a passenger aboard a home-bound 
 ocean liner, and charged moreover with the delightful 
 and important duty of assisting not only one, as she 
 had anticipated, but two brides-elect in the selecting 
 and ordering of their trousseaus; for the lovers had 
 each urged a speedy marriage, the dates of which had 
 been set for the late Fall, in consequence. It became 
 necessary therefore for Mrs. Armstrong to conserve 
 her meagre strength which had gained but little 
 during the Summer against the fatigue of these and 
 intervening functions; so that she had felt obliged 
 to forego the pleasure of the trip with her daughter 
 to the Eastern metropolis, where all the bridal finery 
 was to be made. 
 
 Now in matters of dress, there are just three 
 really important, red-letter days in the life of a girl, be 
 she richer or poorer; the wardrobes of her dolls, her 
 own trousseau, and the outfit of her first-born. Our 
 girls were now arrived at the second milestone, and 
 one must needs have been through the mill herself, in 
 order to fully comprehend the thrill of those weeks 
 
212 BY EARTHQUAKE AND FIRE 
 
 in the 'Windy City'; each day ushered in, as it was, 
 with a heart-fluttering wait and listen for the post 
 man's ring, and closed with a final perusal of the last 
 precious love missive already gotten by heart. 
 While the hours between comprised a delightful 
 round of shopping tours and visits to modistes and 
 milliners by day, and of entertainments by night; for 
 it was the opportunity of a lifetime for their proud 
 hostess to present two such attractive, now doubly 
 interesting girls, to the large circle of her own and 
 her brother-in-law's admiring friends. 
 
 Yes, those were delightful and truly busy days ; for 
 shops must be ransacked to find the many needed and 
 proper accessories for every gown ; corresponding hats 
 and shoes and gloves must be ordered to accompany 
 and complete every costume; and there were endless 
 fittings of linings and the most careful giving and 
 noting of detail for the wonderful creations to be 
 built thereon. In Lingerie alone, would their varying 
 types permit of sameness, but the duplicate order 
 placed for this, called for a bewildering array of the 
 finest of cambrics, lawns and dimities, set off with 
 billows of filmy lace run through and bowed with 
 daintiest of ribbons, and exquisitely monogramed. 
 
 But the business of the happy days was at last 
 accomplished and our young friends again at home 
 and preparing for the elaborate Tea,' at which they 
 were formally introduced and their engagements an 
 nounced to Mrs. Armstrong's hosts of friends, and 
 these immediately thereafter began vicing with each 
 
TWO WEDDINGS 213 
 
 other in offering the usual round of complimentary 
 entertainments, which combine to make of the ante 
 nuptial days of a favored bride-elect, a season of such 
 pleasurable and memorable gaiety; all leading so 
 gracefully up to that crowning event of events, her 
 marriage. 
 
 But of those two weddings solemnized but a few 
 weeks though many miles apart which followed 
 these festivities, it is not our purpose to weary the 
 reader with detailed accounts, although suitably bril 
 liant affairs they both were. Margaret's taking place 
 in the loved home in which she had been born and 
 reared, her dainty young friend her only attendant; 
 Gertrude's in the spacious Lincoln Park residence of 
 Mr. and Mrs. George Nichols, Chicago; at which 
 the matron of honor was naturally, Mrs. Willard 
 Manning. 
 
 Many months of leisurely European travel followed 
 these notable functions, its itinerary extending from 
 East to West and from the River Nile to the North 
 Cape; the pleasures of which were of course doubled, 
 because participated in jointly by the newly wedded 
 pairs, so thoroughly congenial in tastes, and all so 
 fond of each other. But details of this, also, we must 
 omit, save an account of its one disappointment, con 
 tained in the following extract from one of Margaret's 
 Paris letters to her mother, which ran: The charm 
 and delights of this entrancing city have been as great 
 for us, I take it, as they were for you and dear Papa 
 on your honeymoon tour, and evidently are for all 
 
214 BY EARTHQUAKE AND FIRE 
 
 visitors to it. It has held for us our first disappoint 
 ment, however; missing the Lindsays, whom we 
 have all been looking so happily forward to meeting 
 upon our arrival here. But Jack, it seems, has sud 
 denly become famous through a wonderful picture 
 sent to the Spring exhibition, and for which so we 
 hear large sums have been offered; his name is on 
 every tongue. Hattie and he have just started on 
 quite an extended vacation, so we found the studio 
 and their apartments closed, and the precious canvas 
 safely stored ; thus we have missed seeing it, much to 
 our regret, of course, but you can well imagine how 
 proud we all feel to be able to claim friendship with 
 the talented artist/ 
 
 Now it is not with conjugal love, but romantic, that 
 a tale such as this has to do; hence, its limitations 
 forbid any extended reference to the perfect and en 
 during felicity which crowned the unions of our 
 worthy heroines with the husbands of their hearts* 
 choice. True, other hearts had bled and suffered 
 that these well mated couples might wed; but as in 
 neither instance had this been caused by coquetry or 
 fickleness, there were no accusing, remorseful con 
 sciences to mar the happiness of Margaret Manning 
 or Gertrude Nichols; and certain it is, that since the 
 world began, the sun had never shone upon two 
 handsomer or happier brides. 
 
 END OF PART I. 
 
PART TWO 
 
BY EARTHQUAKE AND FIRE 
 
 or 
 
 THE CHECKERED ROMANCE of TWO 
 GENERATIONS 
 
 PART TWO 
 
 CHAPTER I. 
 
 GOOD FORTUNE AND BAD TWO ORPHANS. 
 
 "For 'tis the living, not the dead, 
 Who feel Death's biting sting." 
 
 Facing the ruddy glow and pleasant warmth from a 
 blazing pile of ' fragrant pine logs, that hissed and 
 crackled in the commodious fireplace of a cozy sitting 
 room in one of the most pretentious homes in the city 
 of Denver, Colorado, one chilly October evening in 
 the early eighties, sat a sprightly and pleasantly agi 
 tated young matron, with puckered brow, well sharp 
 ened pencil in hand, and telegram pad upon her lap, 
 alternately scribbling and tearing up; scribbling and 
 tearing up. Not until a round dozen of the ruled 
 yellow slips had helped feed the flames at which she 
 toasted her small, well slippered feet, had a dispatch 
 to her evident satisfaction been framed, and, with 
 a deep-drawn sigh as of relief, placed in the hands of 
 the patiently waiting messenger whom she had 
 
218 BY EARTHQUAKE AND FIRE 
 
 shortly before hastily summoned. A gushing- an 
 nouncement, typically feminine as to length, upon the 
 blank, ran: 'It's a girl An exaggerated copy of the 
 lovely mother So now you know just what an ex 
 quisite little darling you're uncle to/ The message 
 was addressed to the Lincoln Park, Chicago, resi 
 dence of Mr. George Nichols; and but a very few 
 hours later the equally typical : 'Sincerest congratula 
 tions/ had been wired back by its expectant 
 recipient 
 
 It will not be necessary, we think, for us to intro 
 duce to our earlier readers the sender of the above 
 jubilant and very eulogistic message, who must surely 
 be at once recognized as the officious sister-in-law of 
 Clayton Nichols' courtship days; and whose interest 
 in all that concerned him and his was still so deep and 
 lively, that she had journeyed westward for the sole 
 purpose of being present upon the momentous 
 occasion of the birth of his first-born. 
 
 'It's a girl/ she had stated. And rapturously wel 
 comed into life as this child had been, never was a 
 little daughter more earnestly desired than she, either ; 
 especially perhaps by the young mother, and partic 
 ularly after the birth, a few months before, of a son 
 and heir to the neighboring household, that of the 
 Mannings. 
 
 Now Margaret Armstrong and Gertrude Warfield 
 during their college days had been as constantly to 
 gether and as much to each other as the most tender 
 
GOOD FORTUNE AND BAD 219 
 
 and affectionate of sisters. The bond of friendship 
 which had at first, and so quickly, sprung up between 
 them, had very soon ripened into the most real of 
 love; and as time went by, and with the perfect com 
 plement of their natures the one to the other making 
 a jar of any sort between them impossible their 
 affairs du coeur had fortunately not crossed this love 
 had seemed to develop into a positive passion. The 
 dread of separation in after life, held almost, if not 
 quite, as much dread for each, as could have existed 
 had they been the same true lovers of opposite sexes. 
 Surely it had been a gracious fate which decreed that 
 the business interests of their respective husbands 
 should tie them to the same spot; Clayton Nichols, 
 prior to his marriage, having resigned from the super- 
 intendency of the 'Alice' mine, and established himself 
 in a stock brokerage business in their growing and 
 promising city; and located in adjoining homes, the 
 young matrons were still therefore the same constant 
 companions as during girlhood days. 
 
 Well qualified and equipped as they were to adorn 
 it, Society, in a round of splendid affairs, had hastened 
 to open wide its doors to welcome them to its ranks, 
 upon the return from the joint honeymooning abroad ; 
 and two years of gaiety had been theirs before that 
 any weightier cares first fell to the lot of either. 
 Then came the advent into the world of little Robert 
 Armstrong Manning; a finely formed boy, who ap 
 peared to fully vindicate the theory that the children 
 
220 BY EARTHQUAKE AND FIRE 
 
 of love are usually beautiful and intelligent; for over 
 his conception, like a brilliant star, an unusually deep, 
 mutual affection had shone, whose glowing yet tender 
 light seemed to have settled in heavenly benediction 
 upon the child. Other babies there were as fair and 
 good perhaps, none more so ; and many were the 
 encomiums heaped upon him, none of which probably 
 was more highly descriptive, sincere, or more deeply 
 appreciated by the proud young mother, than that of 
 Winnie, her laundress; to whom, in moments of ex 
 cited forgetfulness, the new made parent was yet but 
 the young lady of the house. 
 
 "O, but it's the broth iv a b'y ye have there, Miss 
 Margaret!" was her delighted exclamation, at sight 
 of the few days old child a three-by-six smile of con 
 scious pride in her young mistress beaming from her 
 homely face " a broth iv a b'y, wid yer own beautiful 
 eyes a-lukin' up at me so knowin' loike out o' 'is 
 father's foine shaped head; an' 'im that smilin' an' 
 happy lukin' that it's doin' me own heart good to be 
 a-seein' 'im ; God bless 'im ! Shure an' it'll be the 
 pride o' me loife to be a washin' an' a-ironin' 'is 
 faery clo'es!" 
 
 Now, mothers, like poets, are born, not made; and 
 the birth of this child, proved our Margaret to have 
 been richly dowered with those pre-eminent charac 
 teristics of the true mother; selfless love and untiring 
 patience. Utter devotion to the requirements of the 
 little son at once became a passion of life with her. 
 
GOOD FORTUNE AND BAD 221 
 
 Nurse might get together the elaborate paraphernalia 
 for his bath, and grandmama sit by to offer the sug 
 gestions of experience; but only by the hands of the 
 adoring mother might the actualities of the task be 
 performed, and the glowing little body arrayed in its 
 dainty apparel. And when, at last, the drooping lids 
 had hidden from view the innocent, baby eyes, filled 
 with wonderment yet turned so trustingly up to her's 
 as he clung to the fountain of life, when the eager lips 
 had relinquished their hold upon and the delicate, rosy 
 fingers had ceased their caressing wandering over his 
 white, shining world, and clasping him to her heart, 
 entranced with happiness and overpowered with grat 
 itude, she had tiptoed to che snowy white crib to lay 
 her precious burden among the fresh, cool linens, even 
 then it was difficult to tempt her from his side ; where 
 she would sit and listen anxiously for the gentle 
 breathing, the while dreaming such wonderful dreams 
 and building such towering castles for the future of 
 her blessed eldest. 
 
 Moreover, in her loved friend, the fond mother had 
 ever a listener in full and sympathetic accord with all 
 her most extravagant imaginings, an equally energetic 
 discoverer of her baby's charms and a no less ardent 
 admirer of them. Together they would sit daily be 
 side his little bed, weaving the most roseate of ro 
 mances, in which little Robert was always the fairy 
 prince who should come and carry off the little heiress 
 next door; "for of course, if ^ve should have a 
 
222 BY EARTHQUAKE AND FIRE 
 
 daughter, as we hope we shall, now that little Robert 
 has come they will grow up to love each other, and 
 marry" ; was the never varying and most confident as 
 sertion of Gertrude Nichols at all such conversations. 
 "O, Margaret!" she would exclaim, rapturously, "just 
 picture the joy of that day when we shall see our 
 two dear children made one !" 
 
 As we have already learned, there was no dis 
 appointment in these matters, from when little Robert 
 had been the pet and plaything of them all for just 
 four months and a week, the desired little daughter 
 had been sent to gladden the hearts of her waiting 
 parents; thus making possible that union between 
 their descendants should both children live so fever 
 ishly longed for by the inseparable mothers. 
 
 Fair and sightly as a lily in person, it had required 
 but a very few months of life for those about her to 
 discover the further fact, that the same distinctive 
 grace and sweetness of disposition which crowned the 
 parent like a celestial halo, also shed the lustre of its 
 perfecting rays upon the ethereal loveliness of her 
 offspring; thus making of the thing of beauty a joy 
 to all, as well. 
 
 Alice Gertrude, they called the little stranger; for 
 the lover-husband would have the name of her dear 
 mother perpetuated, and Aunt Alice had pleaded irre 
 sistibly for a namesake. And little Robert, talking 
 even before he could walk early formed the habit of 
 hitching himself across the floor of their respective 
 
GOOD FORTUNE AND BAD 223 
 
 nurseries to the side of his slightly younger companion, 
 and patting her pretty cheek or kissing her tiny hand 
 with a very near approach to gallantry, would murmur 
 in his baby jargon: 'Deah Awice; pitty Awice!' At 
 which the little maiden would laugh and coo with the 
 most evident relish and delight; such cunning scenes 
 always filling the hearts of Margaret and Gertrude 
 with the deepest joy, since they appeared to them un 
 mistakable evidences of that fondness for each other 
 upon the part of their children, so fervently longed for 
 by both during pre-natal days. 
 
 Now, while the furnishing of these brief details as 
 to the disposition of these two very young children 
 towards each other, and the cause lying back of it, 
 may strike the reader as unimportant, we trust this 
 portion of our tale will not be passed over without 
 careful noting, as it holds the key to a fair and in 
 telligent judgment of their future conduct, when, by 
 the natural progress of our story and the ceaselessly 
 revolving wheel of Time, they shall have been whirled 
 into the center of life's stage ; there, in the lime-light, 
 to engross our attention, as unaided and alone they 
 play the parts assigned them in its drama, and by the 
 excellence or failure of their performance incline us to 
 approving encore, or mayhap, to an ignominious hiss 
 ing of them from the scene. 
 
 At the time with which we are now dealing, how 
 ever, they were 
 
224 BY EARTHQUAKE AND FIRE 
 
 'But fair, frail gifts; uncertain as the rifts of 
 
 light 
 
 Which lie along the sky ; and might not be there 
 bye-and-bye.' 
 
 As the irrepressible little beings developed into 
 thinking, acting personalities, the perfect suitability 
 of their natures to each other became conspicuous to 
 all; the one, though bold, masterful and imperious 
 naturally, plainly dominated by a sense of chivalry and 
 a protecting fondness ; the other, timid, yielding, wor 
 shipful. As a tender vine, upspringing beside some 
 sapling oak, finds encouragement and support in cling 
 ing to and twining its projecting tendrils around the 
 firm though slender trunk, so in all their childish inter 
 course, to little Alice, Robbie was the all-sufficient one ; 
 he was her oracle; from the absolute infallibility of 
 whose judgment or opinion there was with her no such 
 thought as appeal. At the age of five, he had taken 
 up the quaint and strange habit of speaking of her to 
 every one as 'my little wife;' after which, the oddest 
 and seemingly prophetic conversations would fre 
 quently be heard between them. Were they having 
 what they termed a little tea-party, over their make- 
 believe it would be : "Where did you get this tea from, 
 father? I think it's very good"; and the little man 
 would reply: "Why, I got it from Morgan's this 
 time, mother; I'm glad you like it." (Copying their 
 elders, of course.) 
 
GOOD FORTUNE AND BAD 225 
 
 These, and many similar striking expressions would 
 not so much amuse as make glad the hearts of the 
 listening mothers; for while to others they might 
 sound dull and uninteresting by repetition, they were 
 to them indicative of that pre-natal betrothal of heart 
 between their offspring, for which these sister souls 
 had so devoutly longed. 
 
 Now, if it be true as we are told, that like is be 
 gotten of like, then for children born and bred amid 
 such favoring circumstance as these little ones, none 
 but the most perfect ultimate development of their 
 dual natures might with reason be anticipated. Time 
 will tell. True it is, that as the dainty bud of 
 Childhood, gradually unfolding, disclosed to view the 
 spreading petals of Youth's bright, beautiful flower, 
 there was visible no 'destroying worm i' the bud' to 
 later gnaw defacing blemishes upon the inner heart 
 leaves of either of these most promising young plants, 
 and their deep, ingenuous and growing fondness for 
 each other was cause for constant comment among 
 friends; by whom they were often jokingly referred 
 to as 'the Siamese Twins'. 
 
 Thus, upon these two households, unrelated by any 
 ties of blood though virtually one in interest and 
 thought and purpose, each containing, as it did, a beau 
 tiful, devoted and loving wife and mother, a proud and 
 most tender husband and father, and an idolized and 
 affectionate child, not burdened with the responsibility 
 and wearing care of useless riches, but rather blessed 
 
226 BY EARTHQUAKE AND FIRE 
 
 with an enjoyable competence which permitted a gen 
 erous and cheerful giving to the needs of those less 
 favored than themselves, surely it might be said that 
 with lavish kindness had the gifts of God been strewn. 
 
 There is nothing the world so grudges us as hap 
 piness, however, we are told ; although up to this point 
 in the lives of these highly favored families, it's ever 
 smiling face had been a striking refutation of the pessi 
 mistic charge. A full decade had now passed since 
 their inception, in which no startling, unusual or un 
 toward experiences had marked the flight of time, and 
 for several succeeding years, also, the same blessed 
 humdrumness of existence which had hitherto made 
 their lives ideal, was theirs ; leaving us with prac 
 tically no new thing of them to record, save that in 
 the meantime, the pure spirit of Mrs. Armstrong, one 
 of the noblest and best fitted that had ever tenanted a 
 house of clay, had been recalled to the God who gave 
 it, and Willard Manning had been elevated to the 
 presidency of the banking institution in which all of 
 his working life had been spent. 
 
 Financially able, as both were, to allow themselves 
 considerable of gentlemanly leisure, these husbands 
 had always taken time to become acquainted with their 
 families, by participating to an unusual degree in the 
 pleasures of their wives and children, thus extracting 
 from them the maximum of enjoyment; for extended 
 joys always increase. A number of happy Summers had 
 these constant associates passed together at the beauti- 
 
GOOD FORTUNE AND BAD 
 
 f ul Lake, so precious in its memories and associations ; 
 some few, for variety's sake, had been spent at Eastern 
 resorts; during that of '91 they had all made a tour 
 of the British Isles; that of '92 had been given to 
 Chicago and vicinity, doing the great Exposition in a 
 leisurely and comfortable fashion. The Winters had 
 mostly been spent at home, where abundance of 
 domestic and social pleasure was their happy lot. 
 
 Up to this time, we pause a moment to repeat, life's 
 aspect had been ever smiling and bright; but 'Into 
 each life some rain must fall ; some days must be dark 
 and dreary.' Were it not so, the otherwise productive 
 garden of the heart might become so parched and 
 hardened 'neath the burning heat from constantly un 
 clouded skies, that the gentle fruits of the spirit, unable 
 to force their growth upward through the sun-baked 
 soil, arrested by the confines of their narrow bed, 
 must ultimately wither away and die. Misery, how 
 ever, does not like to be alone; thus it happens that 
 troubles like our wife's relations frequently indulge 
 themselves in that obnoxious habit of pouncing down 
 upon us in unwelcome companies of twos and threes; 
 and 'born to trouble as the sparks to fly upward,' these, 
 our long exempted friends, were now about to have 
 meted out to them an overflowing cup of sorrow and 
 disaster. 
 
 It was the early Spring of '93; that well remem 
 bered year of industrial depression and hard times. 
 Collections were slow and unsatisfactory, values 
 
228 BY EARTHQUAKE AND FIRE 
 
 steadily shrinking. The banks of the country were 
 overhauling their securities, subjecting them to very 
 searching examinations, and calling in loans upon all 
 but the very gilt-edged ones as rapidly as possible. 
 The Armstrong-Sherwood Banking Company, old es 
 tablished, conservative and unquestionably sound, was 
 following the general policy, and in pursuance of it, 
 President Manning had planned a hurried trip to the 
 then comparatively new Cripple Creek mining district, 
 to acquaint himself more fully as to the value of cer 
 tain very promisingly described properties there sit 
 uated, upon which loans had been made during his 
 absence of the previous Summer; and as Clayton 
 Nichols from knowledge and experience an au 
 thority on such matters had offered his services as 
 examiner of these mines, together the friends had one 
 day set off for the district; making the first stage of 
 their journey, to Colorado Springs, by rail, thence 
 with livery rig and driver, through deep, dark 
 canyons and up and down the slopes of towering 
 mountains, to their destination. 
 
 The return of the rig having been expected four 
 days from hiring, when it had failed to put in an 
 appearance during the fifth, a horseman had been sent 
 out over the proposed route in search of the belated 
 party, and at the bottom of a rocky gorge, hundreds 
 of feet below the precipice over which they had fallen, 
 was found the battered, lifeless remains of men and 
 horses, and the wrecked vehicle. There was no one 
 
GOOD FORTUNE AND BAD 229 
 
 left to tell the tale of their unhappy fate, but the sup 
 position was that the brake had failed to work when 
 they began the steep descent after reaching the summit 
 on the return trip, frightening the horses, who had 
 become unmanageable and backed themselves prob 
 ably so unexpectedly and quickly over the slope, that 
 the occupants had been given no opportunity to jump 
 and make at least an attempt to save themselves by 
 rolling down the mountain. It had been a most ap 
 palling accident, with but one mitigating hope: death 
 must have been instantaneous to all. 
 
 Thus were Margaret Manning and Gertrude 
 Nichols, whose lives for so many blissful years had 
 been inseparably bound together in the supremest joys 
 and happinesses of life, plunged also together into the 
 depths of its deepest woe; 
 
 For 'tis the living, not the dead, 
 Who feel Death's biting sting. 
 
 While the grief of each of these devoted wives was 
 crushing and heart-breaking in the extreme, in the 
 case of Mrs. Nichols it resulted in fatal prostration; 
 for her nature as we once advised our readers had 
 not in it the same degree of force as that of her 
 equally bereaved friend, and her powers of endurance, 
 naturally weaker, had received no strengthening or 
 even stimulation, from the unbroken sweetness and 
 even tenor of her life. As we have formerly described 
 
230 BY EARTHQUAKE AND FIRE 
 
 her, Gertrude was a being made essentially for loving 
 and petting; and save for the sad, early loss of her 
 parents, life's touch upon her had been one long, en 
 during caress. Both as lover and husband, he to whom 
 she had given her fresh young heart and life, had made 
 her the object of his adoration. To see that not even 
 a momentary shadow of disappointment, anxiety or 
 care should be cast upon her heart or mind, seemed 
 always to be his chief thought and aim in life ; and his 
 greatest source of hapiness lay ever in the conscious 
 ness that Gertie felt happy and looked pretty. Theirs 
 had indeed been a home where Mamma reigned su 
 preme ; for apeing her father's constant and beautiful 
 example, the little Alice had soon formed the quaint 
 and pretty habit of petting her mother, and of study 
 ing to discover and of catering to, her slightest sus 
 pected wish. It was not strange therefore that such 
 a sudden and awful tearing from her of the husband 
 who had so unspeakably endeared himself to her, 
 should have taken out of Gertrude Nichols' heart what 
 had grown to be a vital principle, and without which 
 hard though she strove to do so for her loved daugh 
 ter's sake it was not possible for her long to live. 
 Six months after he had been laid away, the yearning, 
 heart-broken wife was resting by his side, and Alice, 
 now a sweetly interesting young girl of quiet, retiring 
 disposition, just in her teens, like as her sainted mother 
 before her, had been left an orphan at a very tender 
 age. 
 
GOOD FORTUNE AND BAD 231 
 
 But troubles, we remember, seldom come singly. 
 On the morning following that pathetic double funeral 
 of its representative citizens, the community had 
 learned, with astonishment and horror, that the Arm 
 strong-Sherwood Banking Company, one of its old 
 and supposedly dependable institutions, had not a dollar 
 in its vaults ; that eighty thousand in cash which its 
 cautious president had been hoarding against the pos 
 sibility of any sudden panicky run upon it, and which 
 moreover they were known to contain but a few days 
 before and double the amount of its most valuable 
 securities to be held doubtless for ransom were also 
 missing; that the cashier had suicided during the 
 night, by hanging 'neath a trestle near town, and that 
 the bookkeeper, his son, had skipped the country. 
 
 Now, not from any suspicion of the men, but simply 
 as a wise business precaution, had the president of the 
 institution long been urging an experting of the books ; 
 but the suggestion had each time met with such pro 
 nounced opposition from some of his older, brother 
 officers as being an unwarranted reflection upon the 
 ability and integrity of such old and trusted employees, 
 that it had been deferred. It was now, of course, done 
 at once, and revealed the almost incredible fact, that 
 by a very clever and original system of manipulation 
 which it is unnecessary and would perhaps be unwise 
 to elucidate here father and son had for years been 
 carrying on a systematic stealing of the bank's funds. 
 This money, it developed, had all been lost in the 
 
232 BY EARTHQUAKE AND FIRE 
 
 wildest of speculation, and they were beside heavily 
 in debt. The coming on of hard times had probably 
 robbed them of the hope of recouping their losses and 
 making good their peculations before discovery, as 
 they had quite likely intended doing. The exposure 
 that would follow a natural overhauling of the books 
 upon the advent of a new head, would of course end 
 their opportunity for further operations, and it was 
 supposed that in a moment of reckless desperation they 
 had decided to make off with a fortune. When and 
 how the booty had been removed and where cached 
 were matters of conjecture to be perhaps solved later. 
 The fact that the lifeless body when found was fully 
 dressed, even to the hat, and that a small valise con 
 taining some travelling necessities was beside it, indi 
 cated plainly that both the culprits had intended flight ; 
 but overcome by fear or remorse, the nerve of the 
 elder had evidently failed at the critical moment, and 
 the last short act in the nefarious drama in which both 
 had been starring, had witnessed the ringing down of 
 the curtain upon the father, fearful of the judgment of 
 his fellows, rushing unbidden to the bar of an offended 
 God, and the son, a solitary fugitive. 
 
 It had been one of those disheartening instances of 
 men who had long been identified with a community 
 and stood well in it, going wrong, which inflict such 
 a startling, disagreeable shock, and leave such a fester 
 ing, painful sore upon its confidence; while the sad 
 and haunting pity of it was, that a young soul should 
 
GOOD FORTUNE AND BAD 233 
 
 have been lured or even helped down from the dignity 
 and honor of its high estate by the very one respon 
 sible for its being. 'Better were it for such an one 
 that a millstone were hanged about his neck, and that 
 he were drowned in the depths of the sea/ 
 
 The wrecking of this bank, sad to say, had made 
 a very appreciable difference in the financial condition 
 of our widowed friends; the combined fortunes of 
 Clayton and Gertrude Nichols both of whom were 
 not only depositors but stockholders, in the defunct 
 concern having been reduced by it from more than, to 
 somewhat less than, one quarter of a million dollars. 
 But, invested in the 'Alice' and other good paying 
 mining properties and several pieces of desirable real 
 estate, there was still a competence for their orphaned 
 child. 
 
 Upon Margaret Manning, however, the loss had 
 fallen so much more heavily, that when her affairs had 
 at length been re-adjusted, the pretty, though not costly 
 place at the mountain lake, and the ancestral home, in 
 which she could no longer afford to live, represented 
 the sum total of her worldly possessions, her income 
 being the rental from the home; for several other 
 pieces of valuable property had the noble woman in 
 sisted upon turning over to still further swell the 
 shrunken assets of the institution, which had been 
 practically founded by and still bore her honored 
 father's name, to which both his and her husband's 
 short lives had been devoted, and in which the family 
 
234 BY EARTHQUAKE AND FIRE 
 
 had always taken a just pride; to the end that settle 
 ment might be made upon a more nearly even basis. 
 There is seldom, perhaps never, in life, any happen 
 ing so bad but what worse might have been. While 
 the intense loneliness without her devoted and com 
 panionable husband, of course became well nigh un 
 endurable at times, yet the sorrowing woman was 
 greatly comforted by the consciousness that she need 
 not mourn as one without hope; while as for material 
 things, Margaret Manning's training had been a 
 blessed rooting and grounding of faith in the declara 
 tion of Holy Writ, that 'a man's life consisteth not in 
 the abundance of the things that he possesseth' ; that 
 to be, not have, marks the truest and highest living. 
 And although it could not, of course, be easy at first 
 for one born, reared, shielded from care and sur 
 rounded by comforts, as she had always been, to adapt 
 herself to so restricted and different a manner of life, 
 yet she realized with thankfulness that there still re 
 mained enough to insure them a modest living, and 
 counted herself rich indeed while blessed with such a 
 noble son to love, and live for, and soon, indeed, to lean 
 upon; for Robert Manning, now in his teens, was a 
 sturdy, strapping, fine looking boy, of whose physical 
 appearance alone, any parent might well be proud. 
 Mentally well, he could hardly have been otherwise 
 than bright. In nature he was unselfish, loyal, frank, 
 truthful; unusually manly, yet intensely affectionate, 
 his love for his mother still a passion with him, as it 
 
GOOD FORTUNE AND BAD 235 
 
 had ever conspicuously been. His father's death he 
 had taken very deeply to heart, for theirs had been 
 congenial natures, and he was of an age to understand 
 his loss. Its effect had been a markedly subduing one 
 upon the boisterous enthusiasm of earlier days, which 
 from that sad period began to give place to a quiet 
 seriousness of habit and action. 
 
 Always a beautiful little singer, Robert was at this 
 age the boy soloist of their church's youthful vested 
 choir; and as the lonely mother, from her near-by 
 pew, would now gaze upon the bright, uplifted face, 
 and hearken to the clear, ringing voice, filling the 
 sacred edifice with its, to her, almost seraphic music, 
 her heart would overflow with pride and gratitude, 
 and from its swelling depths would rise a pleading, 
 oft-repeated : 
 
 'Father, he is my only joy; 
 Protect him, Father, bless my boy!' 
 
CHAPTER II. 
 
 GERALD HARDING. 
 
 "Too many cooks will spoil the broth; and 
 Gerald had been spoiled; lamentably spoiled." 
 
 Companions and playmates from infancy, separa 
 tions between Alice Nichols and Robert Manning had 
 been few, indeed, up to this time; but their mutual 
 dread of one which now confronted them, showed their 
 youthful hearts to be yet animated by a very deeply 
 tender feeling towards each other. The innocently out 
 spoken admiration of the one, and the flattering con 
 fidence and homage of the other of which we have 
 spoken, during their earlier childhood had never died 
 out; those sentiments had undergone no diminution, 
 but had simply resolved themselves into a more mature, 
 reserved manner of expression, as added years, bring 
 ing self-consciousness, had made them sensitive to the 
 notice and remarks of others. 
 
 They were now approaching those momentous years, 
 where-in kind Nature, by some subtle, indefinable, 
 mysterious physical change, prepares the human animal 
 for its divine vocation, the propagation of the race; 
 and by this change develops in it romantic love, or 
 love between the sexes. That really beautiful, even 
 though ofttimes awkward bashfulness of intercourse 
 
GERALD HARDING 237 
 
 between a girl and boy, which generally does, and prop 
 erly should, mark this period, had already begun to 
 manifest itself in theirs; there was the hesitating def 
 erence of advance, and the shy though pleased ac 
 ceptance ; the substitution of the more dignified 'Rob', 
 for childish 'Robbie' ; and the greater pleasure which 
 now resulted to the athletic lad from a quiet stroll with 
 Alice and her governness, than from a rollicking game 
 with boyish companions; all testifying to the early 
 stirrings of the tender passion. 
 
 Upon the vacating of their home for a tenant, Mar 
 garet Manning and her son had taken up residence 
 temporarily with Alice and her mother; and as the 
 health of the latter very soon began to fail, they had 
 continued together to the sad end. The budding girl 
 and boy had therefore been constant companions, for 
 a period extending over several months in which afflic 
 tion's hand, so heavily laid upon them both, had knit 
 their emotional young hearts together in that closest of 
 all uniting bonds, the bond of a common sorrow; 
 which now made the thought of parting but the more 
 unwelcome. 
 
 The care of the orphaned girl's fortune and person, 
 however, had been entrusted by the dying mother to 
 the paternal uncle who was her only living, near, male 
 relative ; and Alice, for her own best good, had there 
 fore been soon lovingly won to consent to a removal 
 from the old associations, which daily, hourly, brought 
 afresh to her mind her irreparable loss ; and together 
 
238 BY EARTHQUAKE AND FIRE 
 
 with the devoted Mademoiselle, who had taught her 
 from the days of A-B-C, was soon installed as a mem 
 ber of his household. As we shall follow the future 
 of this sweet, young girl with deep and sympathetic 
 interest, much of our time hereafter will also be spent 
 in the less genial climate of the city by the Lake; 
 where we shall take pleasure in renewing and let us 
 hope in deepening our acquaintance with Mrs. 
 Nichols and 'Georgie.' 
 
 Now it was not an altogether new experience for 
 this childless couple to be entrusted with the care of 
 an orphaned young relative ; although in a former in 
 stance the responsibility had been thrust upon them 
 from the other side of the house, and the object had 
 been a boy. 
 
 Gerald Harding was a nephew of Mrs. Nichols. He 
 had first opened his eyes to the light of this world in 
 her father's house, when she herself was at that gush 
 ing age scant fifteen at which to the average girl 
 a baby is 'just the dearest, sweetest, cutest thing that 
 ever happened. She had not much more than laid aside 
 her dolls when this new, more interesting plaything 
 came along ; and she had been most affectionately de 
 voted to the little fellow from the very first. His 
 mother her eldest sister had married against her 
 parents' wishes, very young and hastily; and poor 
 girl ! she had lived to sadly rue it. After several 
 years of great unhappiness, she had been obliged to 
 leave her cruel, faithless husband; yet she had loved 
 
GERALD HARDING 239 
 
 him so, this handsome, ardent, fascinating wooer, that, 
 utterly broken in spirit, with the pangs of disappointed 
 hope gnawing like canker into her soul, by the time 
 the child had reached his seventh year she had actually 
 grieved her life away. Mr. and Mrs. Nichols had 
 then taken little Gerald to bring him up; and had he 
 been their own, love could hardly have been deeper, 
 and care certainly no tenderer. A few months later, 
 his paternal grandfather dying virtually heart 
 broken, also, because of the disgraceful escapades of 
 his wayward son over his head had bequeathed to the 
 little grandson a snug fortune, with Mr. George 
 Nichols as custodian. Liberal allowance from it had 
 been made for maintenance and education while the 
 child was growing up; but that no idle or vicious 
 habits be engendered by easy money too young, also 
 to prevent the father's wheedling it away from him in 
 part or whole during early manhood should he ever 
 come under his influence, Gerald was not to have con 
 trol until he should have reached the age of thirty. 
 A wise precaution, but one which proved to have been 
 needless as far as the elder was concerned, as the 
 wasted, worthless life went out in an orgy of dissipa 
 tion a very few years later, bringing relief, if not 
 positive joy to the entire family. 
 
 As a baby, Gerald Harding would assuredly have 
 taken the prize at any show; for he was one of those 
 cherubic, curly-headed little darlings, with big, won 
 dering brown eyes, dimpled chin and the rosiest of 
 
240 BY EARTHQUAKE AND FIRE 
 
 cheeks, whom strangers invariably stopped to look at 
 and admire. Friends, who knew, called him the min 
 iature of his father, in one breath, and regretted the 
 resemblance in the next; for, said they, he'll probably 
 grow up the same perfect Adonis, and Fred Harding's 
 good looks have been his ruination; that, and having 
 a father who was too good a thing. 
 
 But the child had not only inherited the personal 
 characteristics of his progenitor; his intensely selfish 
 nature, as well, had entered into his unfortunate off 
 spring ; and selfishness we hold to be the root of every 
 undesirable and evil inclination in mankind. As one 
 has aptly put it, 'If self the wavering balance shake, 
 'tis seldom well adjusted/ This undesirable trait, 
 moreover, the child's unusual rearing had fostered ; 
 for he had been brought up by a mother whose 
 lonely, sorrowing heart had been most inordinately 
 wrapped up in her child doting grand-parents, and 
 proudly indulgent uncles and aunts galore ; and being 
 a lusty-lunged, persistent little tyrant, full also of 
 subtly cunning, coaxing ways, whatever he might have 
 set his heart upon getting he was sure to get. 'Too 
 many cooks will spoil the broth,' and Gerald had been 
 spoiled; lamentably spoiled. We say lamentably 
 pardon the iteration for it is always a calamity when 
 a child has been spoiled. In view of all this, even in 
 one much more promisingly sired than he had been, 
 the weeds and tares might very easily have choked out 
 the good seed. The worthy intentions of his aunt and 
 
GERALD HARDING 241 
 
 uncle to lead the child into better ways when they 
 assumed control, had been about as discouragingly 
 unsuccessful as laudable. 'One cannot gather grapes 
 of thorns, or figs of thistles' ; and this twig, sprung 
 from predominatingly bad seed, had, in addition, been 
 bent in an adverse direction for so long a time, that 
 the tree was most unfavorably inclined. 
 
 Now, boys are like vinegar, they say; the more 
 mother there is in them the better they are. Admitting 
 that there are exceptions to all rules, Gerald's case 
 was emphatically no exception to this one; had there 
 been more of Bertha Adams and less of Frederick 
 Harding in his composition, our accounts of him would 
 unquestionably have been much more creditable and 
 pleasurable ones to chronicle. The coachman's de 
 scription of the lad at the age of twelve, presents us 
 with a true though very uncomplimentary portrait of 
 him at that time. Complaining of his annoying con 
 duct to Mr. Nichols one day, when thoroughly out of 
 patience with his troublesome pranks, he had ended 
 thus: "Beggin' yer pardon, Sor, 'taint no use yer 
 tryin' ter make honything o' that ther kid, h'im afeered ; 
 Vs likely enough, Sor, but 'e's jist nat'ally too 
 bloomin' bad" 
 
 It was true as the man had said; Gerald was 
 'likely', and fortunately so; for in spite of lack of 
 application, his education had progressed not unfavor 
 ably, owing to his bright mind, readiness to acquire 
 knowledge, and the possession of a most excellent 
 
242 BY EARTHQUAKE AND FIRE 
 
 memory. Had it been otherwise, he must have grown 
 up an ignoramus indeed ; for discipline was so ob 
 noxious to him, that his school life to college he 
 would not go had been a succession of deserved 
 suspensions and expulsions. 
 
 But though the boy was selfish, he was not stingy; 
 a surplus of anything beyond his own wants, be it 
 what it may, he would scatter with a lavish hand; 
 and generally having abundance and to spare, thus 
 gained quite an enviable reputation for generosity. 
 Possessing no real depth of character, he was always 
 ready for mischievous fun, in season and out, and 
 growing to youth and young manhood 'a jolly good 
 fellow,' made many acquaintances, but governed by 
 the assumption that these were valueless unless usable, 
 formed no warm or lasting friendships. 
 
 According to early promise, the child developed into 
 an exceptionally handsome man, both as to form and 
 face ; and to the end of his days, never lost that child 
 like innocence of the eye, which might have deceived 
 even the Devil, himself. He had all the natural grace 
 of manner of a Chesterfield, and the perfect taste of 
 a Brummel in dress; sang well, danced distractingly, 
 and being well connected and with time and some 
 money to spend, was a favorite with the girls; many 
 of whom fawned upon and flattered him, and thus con 
 tributed successfully to the further spoiling of him. 
 
 Like his unworthy sire, utterly selfish and lacking 
 absolutely in sincerity or stability, he became one of 
 
GERALD HARDING 243 
 
 that detestable species, the male flirt. His burning, 
 compelling love-making of which the reader shall 
 later judge would melt a heart of ice; but the 
 pleasure of the game ended for him with conquest; 
 and he would at once begin to lay about for some way 
 of being 'off with the old love', that he might be 'on 
 with the new' ; so that, shy of twenty-five when we 
 first meet him, he had already been the hero (?) of 
 several love affairs ; once even being threatened with 
 suit for breach of promise. 
 
 As far as it was possible for him to love anybody 
 but himself, however, Gerald Harding certainly did 
 love his Aunt Alice; that seemed his one redeeming 
 trait. And well he might ; for truly she had loved him 
 with a mother's love. Her patience with the trying 
 boy, her devotion to him, her encouraging pride in his 
 ability and achievements, her sorrow over his mis 
 deeds, were beautiful and remarkable. And waves of 
 grateful recognition of her goodness to him would 
 seem to sweep over the youth periodically, apparently 
 bringing with them the desire and determination to be 
 more worthy of it all; when for a little, his con 
 duct would be all that the most exacting could wish; 
 and telling of the latent possibilities for good within 
 him, would make one but the sadder to see these so 
 held in thrall by the selfish weakness of his nature. 
 
 As to mental bent, Gerald was an artist; another 
 inheritance from the father, whose profession it had 
 been, and in which his unusual ability could have ele- 
 
244 BY EARTHQUAKE AND FIRE 
 
 vated the man to the highest ranks, had he but willed. 
 From the time the little fingers could hold and manip 
 ulate a pencil or bit of chalk, Gerald could draw ; and 
 his caricatures had attracted notice from his early 
 childhood; in fact, the making his teachers or pro 
 fessors the subjects of them had constantly brought 
 him into disrepute at school. An artist then the youth 
 decided to be, and seemed fortunately so in love with 
 his chosen calling as to become imbued with a deep 
 ambition to excel in it; so that, when he had given 
 to his art studies willing, patient and industrious at 
 tention, his relatives were encouraged to hope that a 
 career worthy of his extraordinary talent was yet 
 possible ; that the nobler attributes of his nature were 
 about to assert themselves and make a real man of 
 him after all. He studied for a time at home, later at 
 Boston, and for a year before our introduction to him 
 had been under the very best Parisian instruction. 
 
 In the care of their foster-child, Mr. Nichols had 
 been no less zealous and tender in the performance of 
 duty than his wife; and after the long and wearing 
 guardianship of Gerald, that of Alice seemed to come 
 to them more as a direct reward for patient, faithful 
 service, than as a charge. Their fondness for the win 
 some child had always been inordinate; Mrs. Nichols, 
 beside affection, feeling a sort of proprietary interest 
 in her little namesake ; and the uncle, because that she 
 was Clayton's child ; to whom, the reader will remem 
 ber, Mr. Nichols had been not only a loving elder 
 
GERALD HARDING 245 
 
 brother, but a devoted father as well. What with 
 their love, then, extravagant fondness and sympathetic 
 longing and endeavors to compensate as far as possible 
 for her cruel loss, the girl's environment was cer 
 tainly an ideal one for the spoiling of any ordinary 
 disposition. 
 
 But, as we have seen, Alice Nichols was endowed in 
 equal measure with that same beautiful nature in which 
 forgetfulness of self, and gratitude, predominate, 
 which had made of her charming mother an object of 
 such universal love, and which made it an impossibility 
 for the girl to become in the smallest degree, selfish or 
 thoughtless of others. Even in the early freshness of 
 her overpowering grief, thankful appreciation of their 
 efforts to interest and cheer her would hold in check 
 the almost uncontrollable outbursts of grief in presence 
 of the family, and she would wait, with truly pathetic 
 fortitude, to sob out her heartaches in the seclusion of 
 her own room, upon the bosom of loving and dearly 
 loved Mam'selle. 
 
 But 'when the stream which overflowed the soul had 
 passed away, leaving upon the silent shores of memory 
 images and precious thoughts which should not die 
 and could not be destroyed/ Alice, becoming engrossed 
 in the duties and associations of her new life and sur 
 roundings, found in them a healing balm, and life once 
 more held happiness for her, as was right. For as the 
 tender, flexible sapling, bowing and bending to earth 
 beneath the storm, springs quickly back and again lifts 
 
246 BY EARTHQUAKE AND FIRE 
 
 its undaunted head when, the fury of the tempest has 
 been spent, so a beneficent Creator has also wisely and 
 lovingly implanted in the youthful human heart, so 
 much of elasticity and adaptiveness, that the crushing 
 weights of affliction and sorrow do but bend, not 
 break it. 
 
 Returning the tender love of both her guardians 
 with a deep and grateful affection, towards her uncle 
 this soon developed into a positive passion ; the wealth 
 of love which she had borne her deceased father seem 
 ing to be transferred to him ; and had the need arose, 
 we doubt not the girl would cheerfully have given her 
 life for his. 
 
 Thus, uneventfully, the years slipped by; not the 
 least happy weeks of which we have the girl's own 
 assurance for were those passed each Summer at the 
 Lake; enjoying the prized companionship of 'Dear 
 Mamma Manning' and 'Dear Rob'; as the weekly 
 letters to her old friends and ours were unvaryingly 
 headed; beside also the delightful Winter holiday 
 seasons of their separation which they had always 
 spent together; some in Denver and some in Chicago. 
 
CHAPTER III. 
 
 YOUTHFUL LOVERS. 
 
 " 'Why we've always loved each other. At 
 least, I have you; and you have me, too; haven't 
 you, sweetheart'?" 
 
 Now although it seems but yesterday since these two 
 dear children, fresh from the hand of God, slipped 
 through the heavenly portals and made their advent 
 into this troublous world, yet the swiftly passing years 
 have followed each other in such rapid succession that 
 youth is already upon them 
 
 That blest Springtime of life so brief- 
 When pulses maddening thrill ; 
 
 When song and mirth and spendthrift love, 
 The heart's deep chambers fill. 
 
 Today we have them before us, the one a nearly six- 
 foot, manly-hearted chap, just past eighteen ; the other 
 a slender, graceful girl, but a few months his junior; 
 and we exclaim involuntarily, How short is life! how 
 fleeting time ! 
 
 We see them now standing upon the threshold of 
 maturer years, and extravagantly happy in the con 
 sciousness of being all in all to each other. 'Premature 
 
248 BY EARTHQUAKE AND FIRE 
 
 at such an age/ do you say? Well, for that matter, 
 reader, in ordinary cases, we, too, hold to the same 
 conservative opinion as your own upon this weighty 
 subject. But kindly bear in mind that theirs was 
 not exactly an ordinary case. True, this is but the 
 record of two commonplace lives ; yet we have learned 
 that these lives were not projected into being under 
 altogether commonplace influences, while some, at 
 least, of the happenings in them, had also been 
 considerably out of the ordinary; and 'circumstances 
 alter cases/ 
 
 The early sentimental revelation had come about 
 very simply and unexpectedly. They were in the midst 
 of one of their delightful Summers together at the 
 Lake, and upon one particular day had been enjoying 
 a short after-luncheon loll in the hammocks upon the 
 lawn at the Nichols' place, when who should come can 
 tering gaily up the graveled walk, unannounced, but 
 Gerald Harding, who had been absent from home for 
 several years, and was by now settled into a very 
 sedate looking fellow of twenty-seven. 
 
 "Why, my dear boy! what brought you here!" ex 
 claimed his aunt, with surprised delight; jumping 
 hastily up and rushing forward with beaming face and 
 outstretched arms, to welcome her handsome nephew 
 and foster-child. 
 
 "Oh, the usual means of transportation in such 
 cases, Auntie; steamer, cars and pony," promptly re 
 plied the newcomer; vaulting lightly to the ground 
 
YOUTHFUL LOVERS 249 
 
 while he spoke, and returning his aunt's affectionate 
 greeting with equal fervor. 
 
 "There, there, you naughty boy !" said Mrs. Nichols, 
 laughingly, "you know what I mean ; what was the 
 cause, the raison d'etre of your coming over at this 
 particular time"? 
 
 "Well, 'if the mountain won't go to Mahomet, Ma 
 homet must go to the mountain,' you know, Auntie. 
 When you disappointed me about coming over this 
 Summer, I got so utterly homesick to see you honor 
 bright I did, Auntie," he vowed, in protest of her skep 
 tically surprised look "that my friends, all noticing 
 how thin I was getting, though without knowing the 
 cause, recommended a rest and change ; which advice 
 I decided was good enough to follow; so here I am. 
 Say I don't love you now? Glad to see me, Auntie?" 
 he finished, effusively kissing the woman a second time. 
 
 "Am I glad? Why, my dear boy, I'm simply 
 delighted; this is the happiest surprise I've had for 
 many a long day," replied Mrs. Nichols, with a warm 
 pressure of the shapely hands, that she found sincere 
 pleasure in holding once again. "Your Uncle George 
 will be glad to see you, too; he brought me home a 
 very gratifying report of you last year. Alice ! Rob !" 
 she called, excitedly, "here's Gerald!" for they were, 
 of course, all acquainted. 
 
 "But how is my good Uncle?" asked the young man, 
 with a show of deep interest, as he shook hands with 
 the others gently detaining that of the girl, as if un- 
 
250 BY EARTHQUAKE AND FIRE 
 
 consciously "I trust he's fully recovered from his in 
 disposition of a few months back. And why didn't 
 you come over this Summer as you promised, Auntie, 
 and bring my charming cousin"? he added. And as he 
 spoke, a look of the most undisguised and flattering 
 admiration was fixed upon the blushing girl, ere he re 
 leased her hand ; even then doing this with evident re 
 luctance. 
 
 "Your Uncle is improving some all the time now, I 
 think, Gerald, although yet far from his former self; 
 his condition was really critical for a good while, and 
 a European trip was not to be thought of in his state. 
 But don't say 'promised', my dear boy," corrected his 
 aunt; "I'm sure we didn't do that. 1 believe I did 
 write early in the year that we would like to come, and 
 might; but 
 
 "But what?" queried the other, as her remarks came 
 to an abrupt ending. 
 
 "Well, candidly," replied Mrs. Nichols, "we found 
 that our dear little girl here" tenderly drawing Alice 
 to her side as she spoke "had her heart so set upon 
 coming West, as usual, that we couldn't think of dis 
 appointing her. This is a very precious spot to Alice, 
 you know, Gerald," she concluded, with feeling. 
 
 "O, Auntie dear" ! broke in the young girl, depre- 
 catingly, "you shouldn't have deprived yourselves of 
 the pleasure of a visit to Gerald on my account; I 
 wouldn't have had it so for anything, if I had known" ; 
 at the same time kissing her aunt in loving appreciation 
 of the unselfish act. 
 
YOUTHFUL LOVERS 251 
 
 "We were well aware of that, dearie; so, if you re 
 member, we never referred to the subject a second 
 time. But it's just as well now, you see; for Gerald's 
 coming over has shown me that there's a very warm 
 place in his heart, yet^ for his auntie, and such knowl 
 edge of course makes me exceedingly happy. We'll 
 go over next year, after you're through school ; we 
 can stay longer then, too. 
 
 "But you must be very tired, my dear boy, and even 
 more hungry, perhaps," continued their aunt, turning 
 again to her nephew. "Let's to the house and see what 
 cook has in the larder"; as she slipped her arm lov 
 ingly in his "Rob will be pleased to hand your horse 
 over to John for you, I know." 
 
 Now some people in this world seem especially born 
 to trouble, others to make trouble ; and Gerald Harding 
 belonged unmistakably in the latter category. His 
 nature had not in any way improved ; years had but 
 taught him the advisability and wisdom of concealing 
 his glaring selfishness under varying cloaks ; yet it was 
 still Gerald Harding, first, last, and always, with him, 
 as of yore. His unexpected visit home at this time 
 was not precipitated by that unquenchable longing to 
 see his foster-mother of which he had so unblush- 
 ingly told, and which the fond, deceived soul took such 
 delight in believing but simply and solely for the pur 
 pose of meeting and studying the now charming niece 
 naturally a frequent subject of remark in the letters 
 from his aunt who, when he had last seen her, was a 
 
252 BY EARTHQUAKE AND FIRE 
 
 sweet and pretty, though somewhat angular and ex 
 tremely bashful girl of fifteen. For Gerald, like the 
 average man, had now arrived at an age when he felt 
 disposed to look about him for a wife. Alice, so he 
 had learned, was beautiful, accomplished, had money, 
 and beside a host of other desirable attributes, was 
 possessed of an angelic disposition ; 'which latter' the 
 man was sufficiently honest to confide to himself 'the 
 wife of Gerald Harding will most certainly need.' 
 
 To Alice then his fancy turned, notwithstanding his 
 full cognizance of the fact that by their relatives, at 
 least, she and Robert Manning had always been in 
 tended for each other; and once his mind was made 
 up and bent upon the acquisition of any particular 
 thing, Gerald became impatient of delay, as well as 
 most persistent in the accomplishment of his purpose. 
 Disappointed, as we have learned, as to their aunt 
 and 'Cousin Alice' as he now proceeded for the first 
 time to familiarly call her coming to Paris, he had 
 decided to cross the pond himself; and finding the 
 amiable young girl decidedly to his liking, was by no 
 means backward in his attentions, making but little 
 pretense of seeking the society of the young ladies of 
 the camp, but devoting himself most assiduously and 
 conspicuously to her. 
 
 It will be remembered that at this time, Alice Nichols 
 was yet a 'schoolgirl; not in society. Robert Manning 
 being virtually the only member of the opposite sex 
 from whom she was in the habit of receiving any gal- 
 
YOUTHFUL LOVERS 253 
 
 lant attentions, he had therefore enjoyed a monopoly 
 of her company; and until Gerald, with his open ad 
 miration and devoirs appeared upon the scene, the 
 youth's tranquility and peace of mind had been un 
 disturbed as to thoughts of rivals. In fact it was a 
 subject about which there had seemed no need or 
 room for thought. To his mind, Alice was simply 
 his; always had been, always would be; just as he 
 was hers. But when a realization of the dread possi 
 bility of another aspiring to and perchance winning 
 her love, was borne in upon his mind and heart, its 
 sickening presence brought with it also immediate 
 alarm ; for the lad then fully understood how unspeak 
 ably precious that love was to him, how absolutely 
 necessary to his life's happiness. 
 
 Now as we have already seen him pictured, Gerald 
 Harding was an unusually handsome fellow; he was 
 beside, full of that pleasing, indolent grace of manner 
 which marks the well-bred man also the treacherous 
 cat. He had been about, seen considerable of the 
 world, had a bright mind, and that happy faculty of 
 the good conversationalist, the knack of imparting in 
 formation in an easy, engrossing, entertaining way. 
 He of course exerted himself to the utmost now to 
 please, was unselfishness, gentleness and kindness 
 personified , not only with the girl but with all. Mrs. 
 Nichols was charmed with the change and improve 
 ment in his ways; Alice, like any girl of her age 
 under such influence, was in a way, fascinated. Had 
 
254 BY EARTHQUAKE AND FIRE 
 
 their aunt have detected any indication of her im 
 pressionable young heart succumbing to what she 
 understood to be, at least, a superficial attack upon it, 
 she would have felt concern at once, notwithstanding 
 her nephew's seeming reformation; for she was so 
 truly fond of her lovely niece as to be extremely 
 solicitous for her welfare. 
 
 Robert need have felt no uneasiness, however, for 
 never for a moment was the heart of Alice Nichols 
 drawn in the slightest degree towards Gerald Harding. 
 But Robert was uneasy, though, for a time, battling 
 right manfully for one of his age against his jealous 
 fears, he strove to ignore the 'unheard-of presump 
 tion of his rival' as he indignantly classed both it, 
 and him and bravely endeavored to offset any pos 
 sibly disastrous consequences of the other's studied 
 attentions to the girl, by a greater, counter devotion. 
 The honest, callow youth, however, was no match in 
 love affairs for this heartless, experienced man of the 
 world; whose whetted appetite, moreover, was but 
 spurred on to greater activity by the instantly recog 
 nized fact of opposition. 
 
 When Robert, at last, could no longer ignore, he 
 fretted and fumed and sulked by turns, in genuinely 
 childish fashion ; a little of this, and he was prepared 
 to distrust the girl, even; almost succeeding in con 
 vincing himself that she had ceased to care for him, 
 and life, in that event, he decided, was no longer 
 worth the living. 'If Alice should see his dead body 
 
YOUTHFUL LOVERS 255 
 
 floating upon the surface of the lake' he would muse, 
 tragically, as he paced its banks in moody solitariness, 
 while the object of his gloomy soliloquy was perhaps 
 off for a stroll at the urgent invitation of their guest 
 'she would perhaps realize what she had driven him to, 
 and be sorry. But then there was Mamma, and he 
 couldn't think of that. No, he must bear it like a 
 man; Alice was trifling with his affections though, 
 and he would put a stop to that; she must choose 
 between them/ 
 
 So the unsuspecting girl was accordingly invited 
 to take an early morning ride; at that most glorious 
 hour in the mountains, which Gerald, both from nat 
 ural inclination and a foreign-imbibed custom, always 
 idled away in sleep. 
 
 'Morn amid the mountains ! lovely Solitude !' 
 
 when more than at any other hour of the day, the 
 eternal, immovable hills, the trickling cascades, the 
 tumbling waterfalls, the gushing streams, the gentle 
 zephyrs whispering so mysteriously together among 
 the tree-tops, the chirping birds, the whirring insects, 
 all seem prating of constancy and love; conspiring 
 together to draw the soul of the thoughtful beholder 
 'through Nature, up to Nature's God' ; the Great 
 Heart of love. 
 
 Verily, the time seemed a peculiarly sweet, well 
 chosen, and even typical one, in which for these two 
 dear young creatures, just at the dawn of a new epoch, 
 to allow the well-rooted germ of love within them to 
 
256 BY EARTHQUAKE AND FIRE 
 
 burst forth into palpitating life, and flood each other's 
 hearts with its enlightening and vivifying radiance, 
 stirring their unexplored depths to new and rapturous 
 activity; as the glad Sun, breaking, wakes even the 
 deepest vales to the light and joy of a new day. 
 
 Twas an ideal setting, and O ! what a pretty picture 
 they made for it, as they went loping along together 
 side by side, so evenly and gracefully they had been 
 broken to the saddle when mere babies, if we may so 
 express it drinking in the fragrance and exhilarating 
 freshness of the early morning; the almost infantile 
 fairness of the girl she was a counterpart of her 
 dainty mother brought out so strikingly by the black 
 broadcloth habit that she wore, and by contrast with 
 the dark complexion of her manly escort. Their 
 happy, innocent faces happy because innocent re 
 flecting in them all the joyousness and beauty of the 
 scene about. 
 
 They were in an atmosphere of trust and gladness; 
 and laughing and chatting gaily as they rode along, 
 Robert's jealous fears and doubts were lulled to rest, 
 by the magic influence of the time and place and prized 
 companionship, and his unpleasant errand clean for 
 gotten ; until Alice, slowing down, remarked inno 
 cently, "We mustn't go too far, Rob, for Cousin 
 Gerald wants to make a sketch of me this morning; 
 he's taking one of each of us back with him, you 
 know, to grace his apartments ; so he flatteringly tells 
 us," she finished, with a light laugh. 
 
YOUTHFUL LOVERS 257 
 
 Click! Her words had fallen like the sharp snapping 
 of the hammer upon the cap ; igniting the powder, ex 
 ploding the charge, and until the smoke had cleared 
 away, projecting a disfiguring blur upon the tranquil 
 beauty of the morning. 
 
 "Cousin Gerald, indeed!" repeated her companion, 
 scornfully; an angry frown instantly darkening his 
 hitherto smiling face. "Why, he's no relation of yours, 
 Alice, and I wouldn't be so familiar if I was in your 
 place!" And with a determined, almost vicious jerk, 
 the youth brought his horse to a standstill as he spoke ; 
 the girl, along-side, instantly drawing rein also. 
 
 She was thunder-struck. Reproofs of any sort she 
 was not accustomed to from any one she neither 
 needed nor deserved them but to receive one from 
 Robert, this was a blow indeed. It was not that he 
 had said so much, as the bitter way in which he had 
 said it. Hot tears sprang to her eyes, but she forced 
 them back, and said, quietly, though with unconcealed 
 surprise, "Why, Rob; what makes you speak like that? 
 Of course I know that Gerald's no relation of mine, 
 but he is of Aunt Alice, and it seems so all in the 
 family, sort of, that I don't see where the harm is in 
 my calling him cousin." 
 
 "No particular harm, perhaps, Alice," returned the 
 youth, loftily; "but it sounds very silly to my way of 
 thinking, and is decidedly out of place and unbecoming 
 as well." 
 
 "But he called me Cousin Alice, first, you know, 
 
258 BY EARTHQUAKE AND FIRE 
 
 Rob, and wants me to call him Cousin Gerald ; so why 
 shouldn't I" ? persisted the girl, gently. 
 
 "O, very well, Alice ; if his opinions and wishes are 
 of more consequence to you than mine, why I've noth 
 ing more to say," replied the jealous youth, with a 
 great show of offended dignity. Then, with a quick 
 assumption of pretended indifference, added, "If you 
 care more for him than you do for me, why I'd like 
 to know it ; that's all ; it's one and the same to m 
 No! No! Alice! No! No! I don't mean that!" he 
 protested frantically, as a smothered sob smote upon 
 his ear ; turning also like a flash at the same time, and 
 flinging his arm about the girl he had been obliged 
 to keep his face averted from her as he uttered the 
 cruel words, which, in his heart, he felt to be suicidal 
 "I mean that it would kill me ! that's what I mean ! 
 O, Alice, believe me, and please forgive me for hurting 
 you so !" he finished, penitently. 
 
 "Of course I forgive you, Rob," returned the sweet 
 girl, heartily; now smiling through her tears. "But it 
 seems the strangest thing in the world to me that you 
 should take exception to such a simple thing as Gerald 
 and I calling each other cousin." 
 
 "Perhaps I had no real right, to Alice, but 
 
 "O, I didn't mean upon that account, Rob!" inter 
 rupted the other, "but because it seems a thing of 
 absolutely no importance whatever to me. It don't 
 mean anything, you know." 
 
 "Pardon my contradicting, Alice, but it does mean 
 
YOUTHFUL LOVERS 259 
 
 something, and a good big something, too; at least, 
 as far as Gerald's concerned. It means that he's dead 
 in love with you, Alice; that's just what it means! 
 Anybody blind in one eye and with no use of the other, 
 could see that!" 
 
 "Nonsense, Rob! I'm only a child to Gerald; why 
 he's twenty-seven!" 
 
 "I know he is, Alice; therefore he should devote 
 himself to the young ladies of the place who are nearer 
 his own age," the youth replied, with much spirit. 
 "There's any number of them here, and most of them 
 would be only too willing, judging from the ridiculous 
 way they tag around after him. But no; he must 
 monopolize you," he continued gloomily. "Why, I 
 haven't seen anything of you at all, hardly, since he 
 came, Alice." 
 
 "Why, Rob, you've seen me every day," corrected 
 the girl, smiling. "Of course, I've had to divide my 
 company between you more or less, for he's our guest, 
 you know, and naturally, I'm expected to do my share 
 towards entertaining him. Common politeness, Rob, 
 would forbid my refusing to ride or drive or row or 
 walk with him when asked to do so; especially when 
 there's no other young person in the house. But I'm 
 quite sure you're mistaken as to his sentiments towards 
 me ; and really, Rob, I didn't think you could be so un 
 generous. Why, you heard him tell Aunt Alice, 
 distinctly, that he came over because he was so home 
 sick to see her; and I think that was just perfectly 
 
260 BY EARTHQUAKE AND FIRE 
 
 lovely of him. She brought him up, you know; and 
 I'm sure he's disappointed, too, at not being able to 
 see more of her than he does; but you know how 
 absolutely devoted she is to poor Uncle George, and it 
 seems to make him so nervous and irritable somehow 
 altogether unlike himself to have Gerald with them 
 very much, that he's obliged to spend more of his time 
 with me, you see." 
 
 "Which is evidently no great hardship for him," 
 sniffed her companion, promptly. "I don't want to be 
 ungenerous, as you call it, Alice, but just the same, I 
 can't believe all I hear when it comes from Gerald 
 Harding" ; with a doubting nod. "I admit, I don't 
 really know anything against him, but there's some 
 thing about him that I don't like; I feel suspicious of 
 him all the time, and I'd rather see you dead than 
 married to him. It won't be his fault though if you're 
 not, some day,' persisted the youth, "for I knoiv he's in 
 love with you." 
 
 "Well, then you certainly know a whole lot more 
 than I do about it, Rob, for Gerald's never told me 
 so; he always talks to me on such nice, interesting 
 subjects. 
 
 "Wouldn't it be a 'nice, interesting' subject if he 
 talked to you of love, Alice?" queried her companion 
 eagerly; and with an utterly incredulous air which 
 it was impossible for him to conceal. 
 
 "No, it would not" replied the girl, decidedly. "I 
 should become ennuye at once." 
 
YOUTHFUL LOVERS 261 
 
 "Then you think love an uninteresting subject, 
 Alice?" he returned. 
 
 "I didn't say so, Rob." 
 
 "But you just said that you would become wearied, 
 at once, if Gerald talked to you on it." 
 
 "Which wasn't necessarily to say that the subject 
 itself would be an uninteresting one, Rob; was it?" re 
 turned the girl, shyly. And then, quickly lowering her 
 eyes from his, she fixed her gaze, with apparently a 
 most intense absorption, upon the meanderings of a fly 
 that crawled lazily up and down her horse's nose. 
 
 "Would it be an uninteresting subject if I talked to 
 you on it, Alice"? asked Robert, at this; softly, and 
 with a bit of hesitation, although once more placing 
 an arm lovingly about his companion's waist. 
 
 "It might not be, Rob," replied this young daughter 
 of Eve, coyly, with still lowered head. 
 
 "Well, I've never said anything to you about love 
 in so many words, Alice," broke out Robert, now feel 
 ing encouraged to speak boldly, 'because it didn't seem 
 necessary for me to; our case is so different to the 
 average one, you know. Why, we've always loved 
 each other; at least, 7 have you; and you have me, 
 too, haven't you, sweetheart?" he urged, wistfully; 
 raising the blushing face, and finding the confession 
 he sought in the now glowing, love-lit eyes, which 
 smiled with such perfect sincerity and happiness up 
 into his own. "Of course, I've always expected you 
 to be my wife when we get a little older," he went on 
 
262 BY EARTHQUAKE AND FIRE 
 
 to say, "and until Gerald came, I had never thought 
 of such a thing as any one's taking you from me. I 
 can stand his loving you, though, if you wont return 
 it; but I couldn't stand it if you did, Alice; really I 
 couldn't, for my heart's been bound up in you too long 
 and too completely for that. I think it would kill me ; 
 but if it didn't quite do that, it would change me so 
 that I would be far better dead; I can feel that it 
 would, Alice; that I should never be the same again," 
 acknowledged the youth; with almost frightening in 
 tensity and earnestness. "So tell me that you don't 
 care for him,' he pleaded. 
 
 "No, Rob, I don't love Gerald, or any one else but 
 you" whispered the girl, with a sweet and most sat 
 isfying assurance. Why do you suppose, for a 
 moment, that I ever could love another, when, as every 
 one knows, I've worshipped you all my life?" 
 
 "Then promise me, sweetheart, that you won't let 
 Gerald take you away from me; that you'll wait for 
 me," begged the youth ; a deep, unwonted pathos now 
 thrilling his strong, young voice. "I'm studying real 
 hard, Alice, and it won't be so very many years more 
 before I'm through and admitted to the bar, and then 
 see if I don't make a name for you of which you can 
 well be proud; and a fortune, too," he concluded, 
 confidently. 
 
 "I know I shall always have cause to be proud of 
 you, Rob," replied the girl, with as much confidence 
 as himself; "and even if you never succeeded in 
 
YOUTHFUL LOVERS 263 
 
 making a fortune, it wouldn't matter, for I shall have 
 enough for us both. Gerald hasn't the least thought 
 of wanting to take me from you, Rob ; I'm positive of 
 that. But if he had, I wouldn't let him. Of course, 
 this isn't a regular engagement, with a ring, announce 
 ment Tea and all that, but I'll wait for you just the 
 same as if it was, Rob ; of that you can rest assured ; 
 and what is more, I shall never be fully happy, either, 
 until I come back again to dear Mamma Manning 
 and you." 
 
 "You've taken an awful load from my heart, Alice," 
 returned the relieved youth, gratefully; sealing her 
 comforting assurance and flattering confession with 
 their first kiss of acknowledged love. "I've been so 
 miserable the past few weeks, that I've been tempted 
 to do all manner of dreadful things," he went on. 
 "Why, I was never so unhappy in all my life, Alice." 
 
 Don't smile, reader, at what may appear to you 
 inexperienced perhaps, or else more experienced, and 
 therefore satiated and inured his childish acknowl 
 edgment. Remember, that Robert Manning was a 
 life-long lover and an utterly devoted one ; and while 
 a boy's heart may be more easily mended than a man's, 
 it also suffers more easily and acutely. 
 
 "You haven't acted one bit like yourself, either, 
 Rob," returned the girl, seriously, "and I couldn't 
 imagine what was the matter with you. Why, you've 
 been actually grumpy much of the time, and when 
 anybody's grumpy, Aunt Alice always attributes it to 
 
264 BY EARTHQUAKE AND FIRE 
 
 a torpid liver; so I had about concluded that your 
 liver must be torpid." 
 
 "I don't think it was a torpid liver, Alice," now 
 laughed the relieved young lover, gaily, "and I'm dead 
 sure of one thing; it was anything but a torpid 
 heart." 
 
CHAPTER IV. 
 GERALD'S DISTURBING AVOWAL. 
 
 " 'I have to confess to an extravagant fond 
 ness for the witching little beauty, myself.' " 
 
 Vacations were over. Alice, finishing at Geneva 
 Lake, as had her aunt, had returned and entered upon 
 her last year there. Robert whose intended course 
 at Harvard had become impracticable through their 
 altered circumstances had matriculated at the excel 
 lent University of his native State; entering with 
 records both for scholarship and athletics which left 
 him without a rival among the large enrollment of 
 Freshmen upon its register; while in addition to the 
 college curriculum, the youth had also taken up the 
 reading of law outside ; against the advice of his pro 
 fessors, and notwithstanding the mother's fears that 
 it might prove too great a tax upon the strength of the 
 yet growing lad. But both in mind and body, Robert 
 Manning was fortunately able for much of hard work, 
 with a fancy for it, as well ; and now, carrying about 
 with him, as he did, the inspiring consciousness of a 
 returned love to fire him with the ambition to com 
 plete the preparation for his life work in the shortest 
 possible time, the constant application to study which 
 the two entailed, seemed more recreation than tasks to 
 the enthusiastic young student. 
 
266 BY EARTHQUAKE AND FIRE 
 
 Gerald Harding had gone back to work ; his studies 
 were of course completed, and he was now becoming 
 known to Paris as one of her cleverest young car 
 toonists. This, his chosen branch of Art, the young 
 man was, as we have seen, particularly well fitted for 
 by nature, and to his credit be it said, he had been 
 both diligent and painstaking in his preparation ; so 
 that he was now beginning to reap the merited re 
 ward of industry. His efforts were meeting with 
 encouraging recognition ; his productions not only 
 finding a market, but the leading journals of his 
 adopted city were already entering into, at least, a mild 
 competition for their possession. He was in conse 
 quence beginning to prosper, becoming anxious for a 
 wife, Alice Nichols was unfortunately his choice, and 
 he was desperately infatuated with the girl. 
 
 Had he declared himself to her during those few 
 delightful weeks together at the Lake, do you ask? 
 No, reader ; knowing what he did, none but a bungling 
 amateur could have been guilty of so egregious a 
 fau.v pas as that; and he was a past master in the 
 gentle art of love-making, was this latter-day Don 
 Juan. Moreover, it was not for the purpose of making 
 love to any girl that he had come sailing home at that 
 particular time, you remember, but from affectionate 
 longing after his devoted foster-mother, if you please. 
 This worthy (?) act, however, had 'killed two birds 
 with one stone/ as it were, for the pretender, since it 
 had won for him the high regard of the girl ; a point 
 
GERALD'S DISTURBING AVOWAL 267 
 
 which he considered himself fortunate to have scored, 
 and there had been others, too, gained by his enter 
 taining qualities ; for Gerald was an intelligent fellow, 
 and she herself has stated that he talked to her on 
 'nice, interesting subjects'. Of such the man had a 
 very creditable supply, even when confining himself 
 strictly to the truth ; which it must be admitted, how 
 ever, he was not always careful to do, having no con 
 scientious scruples, whatever, against handling the 
 truth a bit carelessly, if thereby he might make or 
 clinch a telling point. 
 
 Now the thrilling, mature experiences of masculine 
 twenty-seven, read much like ancient history to in 
 experienced, wondering feminine eighteen ; and Youth 
 feels ever a sort of reverence for that which savors 
 of the larger wisdom of accumulated years. Hence, 
 the flattering way in which this young girl would fre 
 quently hang upon the utterances of this young man, 
 spoke volumes, as well for the interesting nature of 
 the subject matter as for the narrator's fascinating 
 delivery. 
 
 Thus, deeply pleased with himself at having become 
 so well established in her good opinions in so short a 
 time, Gerald Harding was quite content to let well 
 enough alone, and not alarm the unsuspecting and 
 somewhat charmed bird to irrecoverable flight, by any 
 too sudden or ill-advised swoop. For he was a wise 
 person in such matters; 'wise as the serpent'; would 
 that we were able to tell of him also as being 'harmless 
 as the dove'. 
 
268 BY EARTHQUAKE AND FIRE 
 
 He had parted from Alice, however, with genuine 
 and unconcealed regret, upon her return to school, 
 and ere he bade their aunt adieu, a few days later, 
 had unburdened to her his heart; a very graceful 
 opportunity for this confession having arisen through 
 her lamenting of the girl's absence. "I shall be so 
 glad when Alice is at home with us again," she had 
 said, "for we have missed her so dreadfully while at 
 school; she's such a darling that your uncle and I 
 simply adore her." 
 
 "I don't wonder at that, Auntie, for I have to con 
 fess to an extravagant fondness for the witching little 
 beauty, myself," put in the lover, quickly. 
 
 "Not too much of an one, I hope, Gerald," returned 
 his aunt, thoughtfully ; with something very like 
 alarm in her expression. 
 
 "No, I think not," responded her nephew, coolly, 
 "for I'm sure you'll agree with me, that a fellow can't 
 be too fond of the girl he intends having for a wife; 
 can he?" 
 
 "Of course he can't; but you really mustn't harbor 
 any such intentions as that in regard to Alice, my dear 
 boy," answered Mrs. Nichols, decidedly, "for she's 
 already spoken for; heavily mortgaged, as they say," 
 she finished, with a light laugh. 
 
 "Why, is that so ?" replied the other, with a show of 
 blankest surprise. "Who to, pray?" 
 
 "Why, to Rob Manning." 
 
 "What! that kid!" returned the man; a note of 
 
GERALD'S DISTURBING AVOWAL 269 
 
 mild scorn accompanying the exclamation. "Why, 
 Auntie, you surely wouldn't marry the girl to a child, 
 like him ! Give her to a man !" 
 
 "Robert's an exceptionally manly and capable boy 
 for his years, Gerald," said Mrs. Nichols, with gentle 
 reproof in her tone; "and of course, they're not likely 
 to marry until both are older. But they've always 
 been intended for each other; you surely couldn't 
 have forgotten about that, Gerald." 
 
 "Now you recall it, Auntie," drawled her nephew, 
 carelessly, "I do seem to have a hazy recollection of 
 hearing some sort of a yarn to that effect, years ago. 
 But you certainly don't advocate binding children by 
 matrimonial compacts made between their parents! 
 Do you? Why, that's French; Chinese; anything 
 but American ! That kind of thing won't go down in 
 this enlightened country." 
 
 "There was no 'compact,' as you call it, made be 
 tween the parents in this case, Gerald ; it was simply a 
 most ardent wish upon their parts that their children 
 might grow up sufficiently fond of each other to want 
 to marry; and that wish certainly seems likely to be 
 realized, for Alice and Robert love each other very 
 dearly, I think," declared the lady. 
 
 "Pooh ! puppy love, Aunt Alice !" put in her nephew, 
 
 contemptuously. "As base an imitation of the grande 
 
 passion as paste gems are of the real thing. Filled 
 
 with such notions on the subject as they've been 
 
 brought up on, of course, they naturally think it's the 
 
270 BY EARTHQUAKE AND FIRE 
 
 proper thing and expected of them, to vow undying 
 love for each other; and they'd go as 'lambs to the 
 slaughter/ no doubt, if some one didn't interfere, and 
 ten to one, live a perfect cat-and-dog life ever after" ; 
 he continued, pityingly. "How should either of those 
 children know whether the other is the one person in 
 the world for them, I'd like to know? Why, Auntie, 
 it would be positively cruel to allow them to go ahead 
 and marry without giving them a chance to find out. 
 Come now, don't you really think so yourself?" 
 
 "By all means, Gerald," was the unhesitating reply ; 
 "and as I said, they've several years before them yet 
 in which to fully learn their own minds; Robert has 
 at least four years of study ahead of him ; Alice finishes 
 next Summer, and in the Fall I shall bring her out. 
 Once in Society, the girl's sure to have hosts of 
 admirers, and if she finds herself getting to love any 
 one else more than she does Rob, why the thing would 
 be called off, no doubt, by mutual consent ; there's no 
 binding engagement as yet, you understand ; at least, 
 I think not. I fancy it would go very hard with Rob, 
 though, if Alice ever should become enamored of any 
 body else. I really pitied the boy from the bottom of 
 my heart, this Summer, after you came; why, he was 
 simply beside himself in a little while," "but I was 
 beside the girl," chuckled her nephew, gleefully, to 
 himself "and I was extremely sorry, Gerald, that you 
 paid such open court to Alice, on his account." 
 
 "O pshaw, Auntie! 'all's fair in war and love', you 
 
GERALD'S DISTURBING AVOWAL 271 
 
 know/' returned the man, lightly. "They're free-for- 
 all games in which the strongest wins; and whoever 
 enters the lists must expect to give and take. I know 
 I made the lovesick young swain that miserably jealous, 
 dozens of times, that he wanted to annihilate me on 
 the spot ; and it was great sport for me, I assure you, 
 Auntie; haven't enjoyed anything so much in a dog's 
 age,'' he continued, with a heartless, reminiscent laugh. 
 Adding, as a look of protest clouded the face of his 
 companion, "Do him good, Auntie! help to make a 
 man of him ! after his heart's been broken a few times, 
 it won't be so blame sensitive." 
 
 "It pains me greatly to hear you speak like that, 
 Gerald," chided his Aunt. "It's so lacking in sym 
 pathy ; and one should at least regret causing another 
 pain, and avoid the offense, if possible, beside. Know 
 ing Robert's expectations, and how dear Alice is to 
 him, you were hardly warranted in giving rein to your 
 affection; if indeed it was affection," she concluded; 
 as though in doubt even upon that point. 
 
 Piqued at the evident distrust of his motives which 
 her words betokened, Gerald answered in an aggrieved 
 tone, "I'm very sorry and surprised, too, Aunt Alice, 
 that you should think me capable of trifling with the 
 girl. It seems to me you should know me better 
 than to have such a poor opinion of me as that," he 
 finished, with a great air of injured innocence. 
 
 "Pardon me, my dear boy, if I did you an injustice," 
 offered the other, apologetically. "Yet you can 
 
272 BY EARTHQUAKE AND FIRE 
 
 scarcely wonder at my feeling somewhat exercised, 
 even skeptical on the subject, considering your many 
 previous affairs d' amour, Gerald." 
 
 "O those were all childish matters, Aunt Alice, be 
 fore I knew my own mind/' replied the man, with an 
 impatient gesture. "Fortunately, I was smart enough 
 to wiggle out of them all before it was too late ; other 
 wise I might have turned out a bad husband, and 
 disgraced the family." 
 
 "It would have been still better to have kept out of 
 them in the first place, Gerald,' protested his Aunt, 
 mildly. 
 
 "Didn't hurt me a bit, Auntie ; good experience for 
 a fellow." The man laughed. 
 
 "Yes; but what about the poor girls, Gerald? It 
 was of them, I was thinking." 
 
 "O it's every man for himself in this world, Auntie" ; 
 returned her nephew, with an unfeeling shrug. "I 
 couldn't be expected to worry about them; had my 
 mind and hands full enough managing to get myself 
 out of the blamed scrapes, the Lord knows! It was 
 their misfortune to have been born with too susceptible 
 natures, that's all; and I guess none of them ever 
 broke their hearts over the affairs, anyway." 
 
 "And how am I to know that this latest one isn't 
 a 'childish matter,' also? If it is, and Alice got to 
 loving you, her heart would be at least one that you 
 had broken; that's sure." 
 
 "You know it isn't a childish matter, because I'm a 
 
GERALD'S DISTURBING AVOWAL 273 
 
 man, now, Auntie, and doesn't the Good Book say that 
 when one becomes a man he puts away childish things ? 
 That's good enough authority, isn't it? You pious 
 folks seem to think it is on most subjects,' concluded 
 her nephew, flippantly. 
 
 "The Bible is nowhere authority for any such broad 
 statement," replied Mrs. Nichols, with much dignity. 
 "Some men never get beyond being children. And, 
 Gerald," she continued, very reprovingly, "I do wish 
 you would try to overcome that unworthy habit of jest 
 ing at sacred things ; it's always such a reflection upon 
 a young man's bringing up to do so, and, in your case, 
 certainly very unjust to your uncle and me; for both 
 by precept and example, you know you were trained 
 so differently." 
 
 "Forgive me for wounding you, Aunt Alice," now 
 offered the young man, with some show of contrition. 
 "Of course, to be the credit that I ought to your and 
 Uncle George's good training, I should be a paragon 
 of all the virtues; I know that. But it's clear that 
 I'm not, and I'm afraid it's not 'in the nature of the 
 baste,' Auntie; though I suppose I'm not much worse 
 than the average young man, and not better perhaps, 
 either," he admitted. "Anyhow, I don't set myself up 
 for a saint. But to return to our subject; my senti 
 ment for Alice isn't to be mentioned in the same breath 
 with any former fancy. I'm unquestionably in love 
 now, and I realize that it's the first time, too. I want 
 the dear young creature, Auntie ; and you Know when 
 Gerald Harding wants a thing, he wants it." 
 
274 BY EARTHQUAKE AND FIRE 
 
 "Yes, Gerald, I know ; although it's hardly neces 
 sary to remind your foster-mother of that fact." This 
 with quite unflattering frankness, though not unkindly, 
 while his aunt smiled a knowing smile. "I'm not at all 
 surprised that you should want the girl, either," she 
 added ; "but Alice is as you say, young, and I'm think 
 ing , might it not be wiser for you to look for someone 
 nearer your own age?" 
 
 "Well, that's surely a good one on you, Aunt 
 Alice," her nephew, now, in turn, laughed quite 
 heartily for a moment "seeing that she's a whole lot 
 nearer to my age than you are to Uncle George's. A 
 lapsus lingua that, surely; you didn't wait to think 
 three times before you spoke, as you always advised 
 my doing; that's very evident. But, all jokes aside, if 
 she and I married and lived half as happily together 
 as you and he have done, there'd be no kick a-comin' 
 from dis yer chile; you can safely bet your bottom 
 dollar on that. Alice is my ideal, exactly; first, as to 
 looks. Now an artist, as you can readily under 
 stand, could never be happy with a scarecrow or a 
 dowdy seated opposite him at table all his life, so I 
 should never think of marrying any but a pretty girl. 
 Alice is more than pretty, she's beautiful; with that 
 ethereal beauty" "comes from the beautiful soul 
 within, Gerald," interrupted his Aunt "so rarely met 
 with, which makes her a continual feast to the eye; 
 hence, she will always be pleasing to me, you see." 
 
 "Yes, I see," responded his listener, laconically, with 
 a significant nod. 
 
GERALD'S DISTURBING AVOWAL 275 
 
 "Then, having been brought up at home almost en 
 tirely and alone, her innocence is so delightfully re 
 freshing as to be charming. Excuse me, please," he 
 went on, "from marrying one of your up-to-date, en 
 lightened, know-it-all young misses, who could give 
 their mothers yes, and their grandmothers even 
 pointers and rules for guidance upon delicate matters 
 that they should know nothing whatever about, with 
 out so much as a blush or the blink of an eye. I shall 
 be quite capable, I guess, of teaching my wife all that 
 it's necessary for her to know along those lines ; more 
 than that she's better ignorant of. Then another thing ; 
 her disposition's perfect, absolutely; so sweet, unselfish 
 and forgiving; and whoever she marries, she'll no 
 doubt have enough exercise for those good qualities 
 to prevent their becoming atrophied. She's accom 
 plished, too," he went on to enumerate, "and has a 
 fortune. Not that I'd marry for money, you under 
 stand ; I don't have to. I can put my hand on a pretty 
 penny of my own, or will be able to in a few years 
 more," he qualified "and could have done so long be 
 fore this, if that pesky old Grandad of mine hadn't 
 been so ridiculous !" 
 
 "Gerald, why will you speak with such disrespect of 
 your Grand-father!" burst out Mrs. Nichols, indig 
 nantly. "I hoped I had you broken of that reprehen 
 sible habit." 
 
 "Well it was a pesky thing for the darned old duffer 
 to do, Auntie," persisted the man, angrily. 
 
276 BY EARTHQUAKE AND FIRE 
 
 "O, my boy, you seem incorrigible!" The woman's 
 deep drawn sigh of disappointment was indicative of 
 recognized failure. "We must surely have spoiled 
 you." 
 
 "No you didn't, Auntie; but what's the sense of 
 keeping a fellow's money from him 'till he's got one 
 foot in the grave-r, and the other all butte-r, as your 
 drawling Methodists say. Let him have it while he's 
 young, and can enjoy it." 
 
 "You won't be an old man, by any means, when you 
 come into your own, Gerald," spoke up his aunt, with 
 asperity; "and had it been yours to control younger, 
 it might very easily have been a minus quantity with 
 you by this time; you wouldn't have set the fashion 
 in Prodigal Sons, you know, by any means. Your 
 Grand-father was exceedingly wise, I think." 
 
 "Well, Auntie, we've never happened to hold the 
 same opinions on that subject," rejoined the other, 
 with really rude uppishness, "and it's hardly likely 
 that we ever will; so we'd better agree, perhaps, to 
 disagree, and not discuss it further. I'd much prefer 
 talking about the girl, anyway; far pleasanter theme. 
 As you see," he went on, determinedly, "she possesses 
 every qualification to make me supremely happy, which 
 felicity you'd hardly begrudge me, I think." 
 
 "It would certainly seem as though she did, Gerald," 
 returned the aunt, with an amused smile, ignoring her 
 nephew's rather sarcastic closing remark. "But what 
 about her 'felicity'? I haven't heard so much as a 
 syllable on that score, yet." 
 
GERALD'S DISTURBING AVOWAL 277 
 
 "Why, there's no question but what a wife could be 
 happy enough with me, Aunt Alice," returned the man, 
 with an elevation of brow betokening great surprise at 
 the preposterous question. "I'm not bad looking, have 
 some brains I flatter myself and a little talent, am 
 becoming famous, can provide her a fine establish 
 ment, and, as husbands go, have no doubt I shall prove 
 rather a decent sort of fellow. That is," he continued, 
 "if I can have the one I love. Of course, if I made 
 a marriage de convenance, or with one of those flippy, 
 flappy, flighty French girls who hover about a fellow's 
 studio like harpies, for whom I didn't care a sou- 
 markee, and whom I knew was only marrying me as 
 a means to an end for you must know, Auntie, that 
 the creed of the average Parisienne is not that mar 
 riage, in itself, is pleasure, but merely the semi-re 
 spectable path to it why there might be some room for 
 doubt upon the subject. But not if it's Alice, Auntie; 
 not if it's Alice ; I should be devotion itself to her, for 
 I love her; madly; passionately; wildly; and of course 
 I'd make her life happy. So promise me that you'll 
 bring her over next year and let me have my innings 
 before she makes her bow to Society," he finished. 
 "You ought to be willing to give your pet nephew 
 that much of a handicap, surely." 
 
 Now the conversation with her loved nephew had 
 been a very great disappointment to Mrs. Nichols, for 
 it had clearly shown all those adverse traits of char 
 acter which she had hoped, nay almost believed, over- 
 
278 BY EARTHQUAKE AND FIRE 
 
 come, to be still present; even dominant and virulent. 
 The knowledge saddened her; and taking his face 
 between her hands as he ceased speaking, she studied 
 it intently for a moment; then said with deep feeling, 
 "Oh, my boy! you are so like your father! and he 
 
 was a very handsome man, Gerald," she finished, 
 
 lightly, with a forced, yes, a sad smile, and as though 
 in pity ; checking the reproach which had hurried itself 
 to her lips; for, no, she could not bring herself to 
 taunt the unresponsible offspring with the shortcomings 
 of its sire. 
 
 "And you'll bring her over, Auntie?" urged Gerald, 
 coaxingly. 
 
 "Perhaps," was the evasive reply. 
 
 "O, don't be so beastly indefinite!" exclaimed the 
 other, impatiently; with almost an exhibition of his 
 old-time, childish petulance. "Promise, and cheer a 
 fellow with the glad anticipation." 
 
 But Mrs. Nichols shook her head. "I'll think about 
 it, Gerald,' she at length vouchsafed. And this promise 
 the woman faithfully kept; indeed, had his foster- 
 mother been inclined to dismiss the project from her 
 mind, the many importunate reminders in the now fre 
 quenter letters would have prevented. 
 
 But the more the subject was dwelt upon by her, 
 each weighing and measuring of the man, but forced 
 her the more irrevocably to the sorry conclusion for 
 Gerald was still dear to his Aunt Alice that he was 
 neither a worthy or safe person to be trusted with the 
 
GERALD'S DISTURBING AVOWAL 279 
 
 future of her innocent young charge; that it must be 
 her unpleasant duty, not only to keep them apart, but 
 even to dissuade the girl against the favoring of his 
 suit, should she, perchance, at any time show a dispo 
 sition to do the reverse, when he himself should 
 make opportunity to press it, as she well knew the 
 determined man would do. 
 
 "Cruel, heartless, irreverent, ungrateful, disrespect 
 ful, selfish, probably loose," mused the aunt, deject 
 edly, when reviewing her nephew's dominant traits, 
 revealed so glaringly in this interview regarding his 
 love affairs. 'Like father like son/ she moralized. 
 Then murmured sorrowfully, "O, my poor, deluded 
 sister! To think that it should have been your un 
 happy fate to be instrumental in perpetuating such per 
 nicious qualities; Heaven pity the girl who becomes 
 his wife! Not for lack of vigilant and loving over 
 sight upon my part, shall my dear motherless one ever 
 come under the spell of his baleful influence." 
 
 And yet, while registering with herself this worthy 
 vow, a beautiful sense of loyalty kept Mrs. Nichols' 
 lips sealed as to this unflattering opinion of Gerald; 
 not even to her husband, who like herself had dwelt 
 upon the young man's seeming improvement with 
 much gratification, would she speak of the bitter 
 disappointment which she had experienced in him at 
 the very last. 
 
CHAPTER V. 
 
 A CRUEL PLOT RELUCTANT GOODBYES. 
 
 "'Well, all I can do is to hope for the best; 
 Georgie's good name must be preserved at any 
 cost, if possible.' " 
 
 " 'And you won't forget me, dearest'?" 
 
 Now Gerald Harding' s glowing tribute to the en 
 viable felicity of Mr. and Mrs. Nichols, which the 
 reader has in mind from the foregoing conversation 
 was but an echo of the same, oft-repeated sentiment of 
 their many friends ; for in the exclusive social set in 
 which they moved, the couple were regarded as a syn 
 onym for the most perfect conjugal affection. Love 
 not the diluted, expansive variety, but the pure, con 
 centrated essence had been the sole excuse reason, 
 rather for their marriage ; and their pathway through 
 life had been made almost dazzlingly bright by the un- 
 flickering steadiness of its holy flame. Despite the 
 croakings of the envious, who had prophesied for 
 them but a short and unsatisfactory married life, not 
 even the divorce-laden atmosphere of their home city 
 had been able to inject into their Eden, dissatisfaction 
 and discontent; the deadly germs of its infection. 
 
 With kind, indulgent eyes, life had looked upon 
 them out of a uniformly smiling face. One boon alone 
 had it denied them: pledges of their love. But far 
 
A CRUEL PLOT 281 
 
 from proving a bone of contention between the 
 two, as is sometimes the case, the disappointment 
 had but served to deepen the affection of each for the 
 other. Health and prosperity had been their blessed 
 portion, and the pride of the husband in the grace, 
 dignity and eclat with which the wife had presided over 
 the costly home his ability and industry had provided, 
 was not less than hers, in the honorable position to 
 which he had attained among his fellows. True, the 
 wife, during all their more than twenty years of part 
 nership, had quite lived up to her reputed extravagant 
 tastes ; but the husband's happiness in catering to her 
 expensive whims and wishes had been boundless. 
 Money had been plentiful always, and certainly she 
 had used it without stint. How or where it came from 
 had given her no thought or concern, and not unnat 
 urally ; for Mr. Nichols had been a man of means 
 before taking unto himself a wife, as well as estab 
 lished in a profitable business ; beside which, her con 
 fidence in 'GeorgieY ability to move mountains in this 
 as in any other matter, was absolute; while he, had 
 troubles come, would fain have borne them to the 
 breaking point, alone, before that any anxious thought 
 or care should have been laid upon the light and joyous 
 heart of his much loved wife. 
 
 George Nichols, however, had always been a spec 
 ulator, and with the Bears. So long as he felt himself 
 to be a comparatively little ship, he had been content 
 to keep reasonably close to shore; but as the years 
 
282 BY EARTHQUAKE AND FIRE 
 
 went by, and the fickle goddess, Fortune, steadily 
 smiling upon him, more and more crowned both his 
 legitimate endeavors and speculative ventures with 
 success, the one-time cautious gambler became grad 
 ually emboldened to a deeper and deeper dabbling in 
 the fascinating, risky business, until, in the Spring of 
 '98, standing in with the powers that were, and gov 
 erned by an unshakable belief in their ability to bring 
 about a fierce, speedy and permanent slump from the 
 abnormally and unwarranted high price of wheat, he 
 had at last plunged recklessly in; only to go down- 
 after a few days of alternate bounding hope and rack 
 ing fear to practically financial ruin, as the result of 
 an attempted disastrous corner of that year. With 
 blindest confidence the man had sold short to such an 
 incredible degree, that in order to maintain his business 
 standing and credit by covering at once, he had been 
 obliged to sacrifice his entire personal holdings, valu 
 able properties and stocks and bonds. So that, when 
 debts had been paid and his affairs once more adjusted, 
 the salvage from the wreck of a large fortune of a few 
 weeks earlier consisted of a bank account, adequate for 
 little if any more than a year's living, and their town 
 and country homes; both of which had been given to 
 the wife outright at time of building, long years before. 
 Mr. Nichols was already several years beyond the 
 three-score-and-ten mark, at this time, and could there 
 fore no longer be classed as a young man, although up 
 to this period in life he had been considered as excep- 
 
A CRUEL PLOT 283 
 
 tionally level-headed by his confreres; yet by no pos 
 sible stretch of the imagination could this last hazard 
 ous putting of all his eggs into one basket have been 
 termed a wise proceeding. However, had there been 
 individual loss only to worry over, the man would no 
 doubt have quickly rallied from the shock to pride and 
 purse, and, undaunted, have taken up the task of re 
 habilitating his shattered fortunes ; for while no longer 
 young, he was sound of limb and stout of heart, 
 blessed also with a wife, who, when the unwelcome 
 news could no longer be concealed from her, in view 
 of her husband's past achievements, had risen grandly 
 to the situation, with such an uplifting sympathy and 
 sublime faith in his undoubted ability to recoup, as to 
 be both comforting -and strengthening in the extreme. 
 
 Influenced, however, by a commendable zeal which 
 had unfortunately outrun his judgment at this time 
 for the increasing of his nephew's fortune also, he had 
 plunged for him, as well, into what he believed to be 
 a phenomenal opportunity for them both, with the 
 result that seventy-five thousand dollars three-fourths 
 of the remaining inheritance which must be turned 
 over to the young man scarcely two years later had 
 been swept away. 
 
 Brooding over this latter loss and the discouraging 
 outlook for escape from the embarassing predicament 
 in which it placed him, soon brought the unhappy man 
 to a bed of sickness ; and not even the long period of 
 convalescence at their mountain home had been able 
 
284 BY EARTHQUAKE AND FIRE 
 
 to bring back the color to his cheek, the brightness to 
 his eye, or the healthy, vigorous tone to his mind. 
 He seemed all at once to have become an old man. 
 
 This disaster had occurred during the Spring pre 
 ceding Gerald's unexpected visit home; and explains 
 why his presence seemed to make 'poor Uncle George/ 
 as Alice had confided to Robert Manning, 'nervous 
 and irritable; altogether unlike himself, you know/ 
 
 Ignorant of the cause, for he had not yet found 
 heart to tell his wife the full extent of his losses, Mrs. 
 Nichols was of course much puzzled by her husband's 
 changed and peculiar attitude towards their foster- 
 child. Setting it down, however, as the temporary va 
 gary of an invalid, without comment she had incon 
 spicuously made a point of keeping the two as much as 
 possible apart. But after Gerald's departure the whole 
 truth had come out. 
 
 It was a disagreeable revelation, indeed, to the 
 woman. Their own losses had troubled her but little ; 
 Gerald's, though, was quite another matter, and, as she 
 was not slow to realize, a serious one at her husband's 
 time of life. As the weeks, aye, months, dragged by, 
 and he appeared unable to rid himself of the burden of 
 depression and despondency which had settled down 
 upon him, unfitting him for the same former successful 
 handling of his business, the one-time confident wife 
 became the prey of very disquieting conjectures. 
 What if the required amount should not be forth 
 coming at the stipulated date ? was the distracting ques- 
 
A CRUEL PLOT 285 
 
 tion she now often asked herself, and ever with in 
 creased anxiety. Gerald, ungrateful and wholly 
 wrapped up in self, as he was, would show no dispo 
 sition to leniency, she well knew, but with Shylockian 
 rapacity would exact the pound of flesh, and the 
 hitherto unsullied name of her husband would then be 
 covered with infamy, even though his intentions had 
 been of the purest. 
 
 Ever as she dwelt upon the possibility of such a sad 
 and crushing climax to the blameless life of the noble 
 man, the heart of the fond, proud wife was filled with 
 dread alarm ; while at the same time she chafed with 
 intense regret at her seeming inability to help in any 
 way. 'To be sure, there are my properties/ she would 
 tell herself, 'but even these would not be enough, and 
 at Georgie's age and impaired state of health, he is apt 
 to be laid aside from the activities of business life at 
 any time, and then I would need them to sell to take 
 care of him ; so of course we couldn't give them 
 to Gerald, even if he would be satisfied with now 
 mortgaged real estate.' 
 
 For many, many months was the distressed woman 
 haunted by the spectre of such tormenting fears, un 
 relieved by any cheering thought or ray of hope; but 
 upon one especially depressing day, some good or evil 
 genius, had suddenly opened the eyes of her mind 
 to a way out of the difficulty. A way so simple, seem 
 ingly, and promising, as to fill her with wonderment 
 that the expedient had not long before been thought of 
 
286 BY EARTHQUAKE AND FIRE 
 
 by her. Gerald was in love with Alice; wished to 
 marry her; had begged for and was counting upon 
 her good offices to that end; the girl had money; if, 
 then, she should bring about the consummation of his 
 wishes, his fondly cherished hopes, and why not? 
 she had helped make matches before, the fortune thus 
 brought would compensate for the loss of his own, 
 and gratitude to her for securing for him the much 
 coveted prize, would certainly keep the boy from 
 harboring harsh and vindictive feelings against his 
 uncle. 
 
 Thus, speciously did she reason to herself regarding 
 this encouraging new idea, which, to her troubled mind, 
 seemed freighted with the only feasible solution of the 
 perplexities attending the harassing situation. Yet not 
 at once, nor even without many misgivings at the last, 
 could the love which was impelling this loyal little 
 wife to the shouldering of so grave and far-reaching 
 a responsibility, bring her to commit herself to an 
 acceptance of the tempting proposition ; so deep-seated 
 was her distrust of her nephew, so great her love for 
 the girl. But as she waited and waited, and watched 
 in vain for signs of improvement in her dearly loved 
 husband, his well-being became paramount to all other 
 considerations; at length converting her to the belief 
 that the end would justify the means. 'As for Robert,' 
 she would argue to herself, in defence of the meditated 
 treachery, 'why he's young, and will get over the dis 
 appointment in time; scarcely anybody marries their 
 
A CRUEL PLOT 287 
 
 first love, anyway, and later in life are mostly glad of 
 it; tastes change so with years. And as for Alice, 
 why, marriage is but a lottery after all; and Gerald 
 may prove as good a risk as Rob, or any other man. 
 He certainly seems very deeply in love with her. Well, 
 all I can do is to hope for the best; Georgie's good 
 name must be preserved at any cost, if possible.' 
 
 Now, 'in a multitude of counsellors there is safety' ; 
 and notwithstanding her well known passion for 
 managing things, in this emergency Mrs. Nichols 
 would gladly have sought advice and taken counsel of 
 some more experienced, possible wiser head, as to the 
 better course to pursue. But the very damaging nature 
 of the facts in the case seemed to make it altogether 
 obligatory that she keep silence, and be guided but by 
 the dictates of her own loving and distracted heart. 
 
 Once conclusions had been reached, however, and 
 plans formulated, with characteristic directness and 
 singleness of purpose, the woman began injecting into 
 her correspondence with her nephew a noticeably more 
 encouraging tone, while letters to her niece, thence 
 forth bristled with alluring references to the trip before 
 them for the following Summer, and glowing pictures 
 of the delights in store. 
 
 Excepting for Mr. and Mrs. Nichols, this year had 
 been a pleasant one for all our waiting friends. To 
 the happy even though separated young lovers, im 
 mersed in study as both were, and with the weeks en 
 livened by a correspondence bright and breezy, while 
 
288 BY EARTHQUAKE AND FIRE 
 
 yet softly breathing of their sweet, young love, time 
 had flown by as on gold-tipped, sparkling wings. The 
 festive Christmas-tide, which Alice had gone West to 
 spend, although but a brief one, had been a supremely 
 happy holiday for them all; for Margaret Manning's 
 pride and pleasure in her manly son, were scarcely 
 greater than those felt in the winsome girl in whose 
 affections she had long occupied the place of mother. 
 Yes, those were in truth happy days for our old-time 
 friend, in spite of her more humble home and modest 
 manner of life ; and, oh, how many there were to envy 
 her the devoted, dutiful son, and the prospective 
 daughter. 
 
 "After this year, I shall spend half of my time with 
 you, Mamma," Alice had declared to her mother upon 
 that visit; "and only that I know it would disappoint 
 Aunt Alice so, I wouldn't go to Paris next Summer 
 at all. You know I'd much rather be at the Lake with 
 you and Bob, don't you ?" 
 
 "I like to believe that you would, dearie," replied 
 the elder, with an affectionate kiss; "and you know 
 how dreadfully we shall miss our little girl. But we 
 must not be selfish. Some day you'll be with us al 
 ways, and when the time comes, it will be a day of the 
 deepest satisfaction and contentment for us all, I am 
 sure, sweet one." 
 
 "And you won't forget me, Dearie?" implored 
 Robert, as he bade his adored one a most doleful good 
 bye at the conclusion of her short visit. "You can't 
 
A CRUEL PLOT 289 
 
 imagine what a gloomy prospect it is for me to think 
 of not seeing you again for nearly a year, Alice. Why 
 that's much the longest time we've ever been separated, 
 in all our lives! and it will be an Eternity to me; es 
 pecially the time you're with Gerald. "O, sweetheart ; 
 I do so wish you weren't going!" he finished, de 
 jectedly. 
 
 "So do I, Rob;" answered the girl promptly, and 
 there was no doubting the sincerity of her declaration. 
 "But you know I simply can't get out of it. Don't 
 worry about Gerald though, Rob, please don't ; for you 
 know it's not to see him that I'm going. Can't you 
 trust me, dear?" she asked, a bit reproachfully; "you 
 know that I don't care for Gerald ; that I shall never 
 love any one but you; don't make me unhappy by 
 doubting me." 
 
 "Forgive me, Alice," returned the troubled youth. 
 "I know it's both unjust and ungenerous to show a 
 seeming lack of confidence, and after all, it's more 
 fears than doubts that disturb me; for Gerald's such 
 a handsome, fascinating fellow, that I can't help feel 
 ing him to be a dangerous rival." 
 
 "And he's wonderfully interesting and entertaining 
 as well, Rob"; added the girl, frankly. "Auntie says 
 he'll be sure to make our visit a very delightful one, 
 and in a way, I expect to enjoy it. But he isn't a rival, 
 at all," Alice corrected, emphatically ; "he doesn't want 
 to be; of that I'm positive; but if he did, I wouldn't 
 let him, as I've told you many times already. So now do 
 
290 BY EARTHQUAKE AND FIRE 
 
 let that assurance drive all those unworthy doubts 
 away. I shall really begin to think you don't love me 
 if you keep them any longer, Rob," admonished the 
 girl. Then, "Right after we get back, very early in 
 the Fall, Auntie's going to give me a swell 'coming 
 out' ; and after that I shall soon come back home. By 
 Thanksgiving at the very latest, I shall be with you 
 again, and such a lot of the time afterwards; and O 
 how proud you'll be, Rob, of a girl decked out as fine 
 as / shall be" ; she concluded, almost vainly. For hers 
 was a truly feminine young heart, which adored pretty 
 things. 
 
 "O, shoot the clothes, Alice!" exclaimed Robert, 
 with loving impatience. "It's you I'll want to see, and 
 of course I'll be proud of you. . Besides, all the ostrich 
 and marabout tips that's what you call 'em, isn't it ? 
 and Bird of Paradise plumage in the world, couldn't 
 make you look one bit lovelier than you really are." 
 
 Thus, reluctantly, they parted, that bright, mid- Win 
 ter day, these our dear young friends in whom in 
 terest now so deeply centers. Thus were their last 
 goodbyes said; the youth, uncomfortably oppressed 
 by anxious fears, although unconscious of the cruel 
 plot that had been hatched against them, and notwith 
 standing the oft-repeated and confident assurances of 
 the girl; through all of whose future correspondence 
 upon the subject also, ran ever the same, glad, cheer 
 ing note. 
 
CHAPTER VI. 
 
 A TRIP ABROAD LOVE VerSUS DUTY. 
 
 "'Then I can't do it, Auntie'! exclaimed the 
 tortured girl, bursting into tears. 'For just the 
 mere thought of Rob's loving any one else 
 makes me turn < >. so sick and taint'!" 
 
 Stern Winter's reign was ended. Snow and sleet 
 and icy mask had long since vanished before the con 
 quering, onward march of gentle Spring, and early 
 Summer's cloudless skies, invigorating sunshine and 
 genial breezes, were brooding and dancing over land 
 and sea. 
 
 Had the eye of the reader been scanning the pas 
 senger list of a certain ocean greyhound steaming out 
 of New York harbor, for Plymouth, England, one 
 late June day of that year, it would have fallen upon 
 these two familiar names: 
 
 'Mrs. George Benedict Nichols.' 
 
 'Alice Gertrude Nichols/ 
 
 and maid. 
 
 'Chicago, 111.' 
 
 And great and pardonable would have been the pride 
 felt, in claiming old acquaintance with a singularly 
 sweet, aristocratic looking young girl, and an alert, 
 stylish matron of that age when woman is said to 
 be at her best, the early forties who hurried from a 
 
292 BY EARTHQUAKE AND FIRE 
 
 rapidly driven cab the instant it had stopped, hastened 
 down the deserted gang-plank which had already 
 awaited their arrival some beyond the appointed hour 
 for sailing and at once made their way to the attrac 
 tive suite, amid-ships, reserved for the owners of the 
 aforesaid names. 
 
 As the residue of our story in no wise hinges upon 
 the incidents of this voyage, we pass them over in 
 silence, although much might have developed from 
 them ; for the beautiful young bud of our acquaintance 
 speedily became the cynosure of all eyes; the target 
 for admiring glances from the men, and of envy or 
 conjecture from many of the women aboard. But 
 the unusually watchful and attentive chaperonage of 
 her aunt, afforded little opportunity for either ex 
 pressions of admiration or the gratification of curi 
 osity. For Mrs. Nichols was not upon pleasure bent, 
 at this time, it must be understood. She was now a 
 woman with a mission; seriously set upon the accom 
 plishment of her purpose, and withal, deeply conscious 
 of the many charms of her attractive young niece. 
 
 'Eternal vigilance is the price of liberty' ; and it was 
 no part of her carefully arranged programme to invite 
 disaster at this point, by allowing opportunities for any 
 possible ship-board flirtations or incipient attachments, 
 which might still further complicate matters and prove 
 but additional obstacles for her to overcome, later. 
 There was therefore but little mingling with their fel 
 low passengers, and that little even, unsatisfactory ; for 
 
LOVE VERSUS DUTY 293 
 
 a natural shyness and reserve of manner with 
 strangers, upon the part of the girl, and one assumed 
 for the occasion by the older woman, soon won for the 
 pair a reputation for ultra-exclusiveness, and they had 
 been left to the enjoyment of a seclusion, welcome in 
 deed. At least, welcome to the preoccupied mind and 
 overburdened heart of the lady. Fortunately somewhat 
 brightened for her fair charge, however, by a big, un 
 expected batch of steamer letters, and a 'goodbye, and 
 don't forget Rob,' upon a Western Union blank ; all of 
 which awaited the surprised and popular girl. 
 
 Important, even necessary as she now felt her er 
 rand abroad to be, it had nevertheless not been with 
 out reluctance that Mrs. Nichols had torn herself from 
 home and husband for a time, for mentally, Mr. 
 Nichols had but gone from bad to worse ; while phys 
 ically, his condition was also much less promising. Yet 
 these very facts had combined to freight the worried 
 woman's mind with an unfaltering conviction as to 
 the imperative need for action upon her part, and a 
 feeling of impatient haste to make good, as well. Loath 
 as she had been to leave him however, her husband's 
 almost pathetic doggedness of determination to remain 
 at the post of duty at this time, even though really 
 little able for the pursuit of business, had truly been 
 a relief to the plotting wife, since his presence would 
 undoubtedly have made the carrying out of her un- 
 divulged scheme extremely difficult, if not impossible. 
 She had therefore made no effort to persuade him to 
 
294 BY EARTHQUAKE AND FIRE 
 
 accompany her, and thus it happened that she and 
 Alice had set out alone, on this momentous journey. 
 
 With malice aforethought, during the exclusive and 
 intimate association of the trip across, the story of 
 the exceptional love and care bestowed upon her 
 adored father when a helpless child, by his devoted 
 elder brother, had more than once been most graphi 
 cally recounted to the niece; that thereby her tender 
 young heart might be filled with a lively sense of obli 
 gation and gratitude to the absent uncle. A proceed 
 ing laudable enough, perhaps, in itself, and crowned 
 with the desired success; but surely a most extra 
 ordinary manner in which to while away the first 
 leisure of a young graduate, just in the heyday of 
 delight at her emancipation. 
 
 But Mrs. Nichols was no longer her former jolly 
 self; due solely so thought her sympathetic com 
 panion to anxiety over the ill-health of her husband ; 
 and only once upon the journey did the old-time vim 
 and spirit flash forth, and that when administering 
 a rebuke. Their uneventful voyage had been quickly 
 made, and speeding on towards London with the mini 
 mum of delay, they had reached the great metropolis 
 on the 'glorious Fourth/ Their greeting with a 'Hip ! 
 Hurrah!' by a group of staunch Americans, as their 
 nationality was recognized by the tiny, silken flags, 
 loyally displayed upon the lapels of their traveling 
 coats, had seemed to irritate a fellow traveler a gruff 
 son of Albion who immediately took occasion to give 
 vent to a boastful 'Brittania rules the waves/ 
 
LOVE VERSUS DUTY 295 
 
 'Perhaps,' instantly retorted the zealous little patriot 
 whose ire was at once aroused by the uncalled-for 
 fling 'but never the hearts of Columbia's sons and 
 daughters, and especially upon this proud day.' Ac 
 companying her patriotic and silencing words with a 
 most provoking shrug, and tone of implied uncertainty 
 even, upon the subject of his boast. 
 
 They had made no stay in London, for even to the 
 girl the attractions of the wonderful city were not 
 unknown ; but had gone hastening on to their Mecca, 
 which Alice was approaching with all the excited joy- 
 ousness and impatience of anticipation of a young girl, 
 about to pay her initial visit to the Old World's fairy 
 land, and even more than usually eager to arrive, per 
 haps, because of their particularly quiet, sober voyage. 
 But at Calais a delightful surprise awaited ; for Gerald 
 had run up to meet them, and her advent into the gay 
 city was therefore made under the extravagantly atten 
 tive escort of a would-be suitor. 
 
 "Bless your sweet life, Auntie!" was the young 
 man's first and grateful exclamation, while giving to 
 Mrs. Nichols a most affectionate welcome. "I can't 
 begin to tell you how over- joyed I am to see you and 
 my charming Cousin once more" ; and in his eager, 
 admiring glances as he greeted the girl, their Aunt 
 had been rejoiced to read the hoped for tale of a re 
 strained, but undiminished ardor, an impatient love and 
 longing. 
 
 That the man was indeed proud to act as escort to 
 
296 BY EARTHQUAKE AND FIRE 
 
 so noticeable a girl as Alice, could not be questioned ; 
 and his devoted, almost worshipful attentions, seemed 
 to evidence a great and wondrous happiness with 
 which her presence filled his heart. Nor was the girl 
 ignorant of a pleasurable thrill at their unexpected 
 meeting; for Gerald, as we know, had proven a very 
 agreeable and interesting companion during their pre 
 vious association, and ignorant of his intentions, her 
 greeting contained an unaffected we might say, un 
 conscious warmth; which to the hopeful and con 
 ceited lover's fancy, evinced a gratifying modicum of 
 encouragement. 
 
 "Alice knows nothing as yet, Gerald"; explained 
 Mrs. Nichols to her nephew as they two canvassed the 
 situation on the evening of her arrival, after that the 
 girl, at her suggestion, had retired; "so don't be too 
 brash at first ; go a bit slow for a little, for I know that 
 she will have to be won gradually. At the same time," 
 she hinted broadly, "I would also give you this pointer ; 
 if you really want her, you must never let her go back 
 to Rob. That she loves him is undoubtedly true, for 
 coming over, she was scarce never without one of his 
 letters, his photo, or his parting telegram in her hands ; 
 and I don't know how many replies she posted when 
 we landed, besides cabling him. Still," she went on, 
 encouragingly, "out of sight is very often out of mind, 
 we know, especially with a young person in a gay 
 whirl; so make things hum, Gerald, for in the terse, 
 expressive language of our future classics, it's 'the 
 
LOVE VERSUS DUTY 297 
 
 Johnny on the spot' who usually wins out in such 
 cases, you know." Continuing, in a very impressive 
 manner, "There's nobody living but you for whom I'd 
 consent to interfere in a love affair, my dear boy, but 
 'blood's thicker than water/ and you've always been 
 very dear to me, Gerald. Now that I've delivered 
 the goods, however, I wipe my hands of the whole 
 matter; don't expect any further help from me; hence 
 forth your fate is in your own hands, and if you fail 
 to win so tempting a prize as Alice, why it will cer 
 tainly not be through any remissness of mine. It's 
 hardly necessary for me to tell you I think" she 
 smiled knowingly, as she spoke "that it's always 
 the part of wisdom in such cases to 'make hay while 
 the sun shines/ or that 'opportunities, like eggs, should 
 be hatched while fresh.' This is your day of oppor 
 tunity, Gerald, and it will of necessity be brief, for my 
 stay will be limited in consequence of your uncle's ill- 
 health" ; the bright, earnest face, here instantly cloud 
 ing at the recollection. "I really ought not to have 
 left him at all." A sigh of regret filled an instant's 
 pause ere his aunt continued, "When I return, of 
 course, Alice goes with me. Unless " 
 
 "Unless what?" interjected her attentive listener 
 quickly, as the woman hesitated. 
 
 "Why, unless she should have been persuaded in 
 the meantime to change her name. Verbum sat 
 sapienti, Gerald" ; she finished, after much, much more 
 conversation in the same strain ; "you haven't al 
 together forgotten your Latin, I trust." 
 
298 BY EARTHQUAKE AND FIRE 
 
 "No, not altogether, Auntie," Her nephew laughed. 
 "At least, I can still manage as dead easy a translation 
 as that, and I flatter myself that I'm wise enough to 
 not need more than one word upon the subject, beside. 
 Trust me to not let such a tempting prize slip through 
 my ringers; and the happy day can't come a bit too 
 soon to please me, either. The hard part will be to go 
 slow, at all ; for the little charmer's surely got my 
 tender heart thoroughly in tow. But how long shall 
 you be here, Auntie, anyway ? How many days, weeks 
 or months am I to have, in which to get in my deadly 
 work?" he inquired, jokingly. 
 
 "Two months, perhaps, Gerald; three at the very 
 most" ; was the other's exceedingly business-like reply. 
 
 Thus coached and advised, the young man's plans 
 were of course both wisely laid and warily carried out. 
 A constant round of the very sight-seeing and merry 
 making best calculated to captivate the heart of a fresh, 
 inexperienced girl, was now begun, and for three de 
 lightful weeks, Alice Nichols lived as though in an 
 enchanting dream. Gerald was taking a long arranged 
 for vacation and his time was therefore all at the dis 
 posal of his more than welcome guests. His constant 
 attendance and gallant devotion to their entertainment, 
 no less than his unmistakable enjoyment of their visit, 
 were extremely flattering and equally charming to the 
 unsuspecting girl, for in all their intercourse, there 
 was not the least approach to love-making. And not 
 unmindful of Robert's expressed fears upon this point, 
 
LOVE VERSUS DUTY .299 
 
 in all her letters to the youth, which were both regu 
 lar and frequent accounts of the good times she was 
 having were thoughtfully interlarded with this com 
 forting assurance. 
 
 "I know you'll be relieved, Rob," she wrote in one, 
 "to know that you were mistaken as to Gerald's being 
 in love with me, and sorry that you doubted his sin 
 cerity last Summer. I know you'll never do him such 
 an injustice again, but instead, feel very kindly towards 
 him because of the good time he's giving us. His 
 grateful and affectionate devotion to Auntie is per 
 fectly lovely, and you couldn't help admiring him for 
 it, just as / do. I want that you and he should be 
 friends, always, dearest, for I shall feel under great 
 obligations to him from now on." 
 
 But this inspiriting message the last upon the sub 
 ject had barely reached its destination, when an ap 
 palling change came over the spirit of the faithful 
 girl's dreams; for Gerald, now too deeply infatuated 
 for longer silence, suddenly assumed the role of lover 
 so impatiently delayed, and laid violent siege to her 
 heart; taking advantage of his first favoring oppor 
 tunity alone with the girl, to tell her of his love and 
 press his suit. 
 
 It was an entrancing Summer evening; and after a 
 late dinner at one of the brilliant cafes of the Palais 
 Royal, which had closed a day of strenuous tripping 
 about, the happy trio had returned to the apartment 
 occupied by the visitors in the fashionable Rue de 
 
300 BY EARTHQUAKE AND FIRE 
 
 Blanc, and settled down in its pretty parlour for a 
 quiet evening at home. Gerald, lolling in indolent 
 ease at one end of a luxurious divan, from out the 
 airy clouds of smoke wreathing upwards from the 
 fragrant Havana at which he lazily puffed, with long 
 ing heart, once more feverishly drank in the flower-like 
 grace and beauty of the lovely girl in white, carelessly 
 reclining at its other end, well nigh lost to view amid 
 the array of rich, delicate cushions surrounding her; 
 while with her animated young face aglow with pleas 
 ure and enthusiasm, she entertained and amused her 
 auditors with an extravagant, girlish rhapsody, about 
 dear, delightful Paris. 
 
 As she finished, her ever present chaperon, reading 
 unerringly the impetuous mood of her nephew, and 
 feeling the time to be both ripe and most auspicious 
 for a climax, excused herself for awhile with the plea 
 of 'a letter to your Uncle George that I wish Gerald 
 to post when he goes out' ; and retired to her own 
 room, which adjoined. 
 
 The door had not more than closed upon her, than 
 the young man, brisk as a flea, had straightened up, 
 dropped his unfinished cigar upon the Sevres receiver 
 conveniently placed upon an inlaid tabouret close by, 
 and drawing very near to Alice, asked with a most 
 insinuating sweetness of tone and look "How would 
 you like to live in Paris always, Cousin mine ?" adding 
 quickly, "with me, I mean." And before the girl had 
 recovered from her astonishment enough to answer, 
 
LOVE VERSUS DUTY 301 
 
 he had slipped an arm lovingly about her, taken her 
 hand in his disengaged one, and with most fervid 
 utterance, was pouring into her unwilling ear, the 
 same sweet story, the same entrancing fairy tale which, 
 from the days of Adam on, men have been seductively 
 whispering into the expectant and unexpectant ears of 
 :ountless Eves, in every clime and lingo. 
 
 "O, please stop, Gerald!" entreated the blushing 
 girl, endeavoring to free herself. "I can't listen to 
 such things from you; really I can't!" 
 
 "Why not, sweetheart?" queried the lover; in a 
 surprised and much disappointed tone, though with- 
 3ut releasing her. 
 
 "Because because why I'm engaged already, 
 Gerald"; she stammered, confusedly. 
 
 "Engaged already?" repeated the man in dismay. 
 'O don't ask me to believe anything so cruelly dis 
 appointing as that, dearest!" 
 
 "I'm very sorry if it's a disappointment to you, 
 Gerald, but it's a fact, nevertheless; so please let me 
 
 ?0 ." 
 
 "Who to, Alice, and since when?" asked the lover, 
 with great importunity; though still making no move 
 to comply with the twice repeated request of the girl 
 to be released. 
 
 "Why to Rob Manning; and since always!" was 
 the frank, though bashful reply, "and I supposed you 
 knew, Gerald." 
 
 "Knew! Why I never had the faintest suspicion 
 
302 BY EARTHQUAKE AND FIRE 
 
 even of such a thing, sweetheart!" returned the man 
 with a well feigned show of surprise at the informa 
 tion." But that's only a make-believe engagement 
 anyway ; a sort of playing at love" ; he continue* 
 lightly; as though the thought were a relief. 
 
 "No it isn't, Gerald; it's really and truly; honest i 
 is" ; persisted the girl, in answer to his doubting look 
 "Of course, it hasn't been announced yet, and I'm no 
 wearing a ring; but Rob and I are pledged to eacl 
 other, just the same." 
 
 "Such pledges as that aren't binding though, Alice 
 and I'd be very sorry to see you make a marriage o 
 that sort!" Continuing, with an almost fatherly ten 
 derness and concern, "for your happiness is too dea 
 to me, little one. I've known so many of these baby 
 love unions," he went on, "and they're always failures 
 you'd be sure to be unhappy, Alice." 
 
 "O, no we wouldn't, Gerald" ; contradicted the girl 
 sweetly, though with unquestionable certainty; "fo 
 we er love each other!" she blurted out; while a: 
 embarrassed blush at once suffused her cheek at th 
 delicate confession. 
 
 "But that's not the safe kind of love to marry foi 
 Alice"; then argued the wily lover, earnestly. "Mar 
 riage is a very serious matter, you must know, am 
 needs a mature, deep love to carry one through it 
 trials and perplexities. Now Rob's only a boy, an 
 can't possibly feel for you such a love as mine." 
 
 "And I'm only a girl, Gerald ; but I know that Rob' 
 
LOVE VERSUS DUTY 303 
 
 love is mature enough, and deep enough to carry me 
 through anything"; returned the loyal girl, with proud 
 est confidence in her tones. 
 
 "Well, I'm not going to let hirn have you, Alice, 
 anyway!" the persistent lover now boldly proclaimed. 
 "Not after I've waited for you for years!" 
 
 "Rob has too, Gerald." 
 
 "Why I've loved you ever since you were in pina 
 fores, Alice"; her companion went on; with much of 
 elasticity in the statement, as we know. 
 
 "So has Rob"; responded the girl, softly. 
 
 "But, sweetheart, I can't give you up!" this de 
 spairingly, and with every evidence of the deepest 
 feeling. "Ever since those supremely happy weeks 
 which we spent together last year, my thoughts of 
 you have been my life! sleeping or waking, you have 
 never been absent from them, for my day-dreams have 
 been castles for you, my night-dreams visions of you ; 
 and I have felt so hopeful, even sure of winning you. 
 I want you so ; I need you so ; so much more than Rob 
 does, for he has his mother, while I, like yourself, have 
 no one !" he breathed, pathetically. "Oh, can't you feel 
 for my loneliness, darling ? Be mine, Alice !" the man 
 pleaded. "Come to me! give me your heart; your 
 love ; your life ; and take in return a heart which never 
 has nor ever will beat for any but you ; a love, death 
 less, a life, laid at your feet, to worship you, to serve 
 you! O, say that you are mine, sweetheart," he im 
 plored, "and I am yours to command, now and for 
 ever!'' 
 

 304 BY EARTHQUAKE AND FIRE 
 
 With a well developed sense of the proprieties, th 
 young girl had made repeated attempts though in 
 effectual to check the man's rapid flow of lovinj 
 words, and free herself from his detaining embrace 
 and as his hold upon her was now unconsciously re 
 laxed a little while he half paused for breath, sh 
 quickly drew from out his encircling arm, and brok 
 in sweetly with, "I can't do as you ask, Gerald, for m; 
 heart and love have both been given to another, an< 
 my life pledged to him. I couldn't go back on m; 
 promise; why it would kill Rob if I did, and I don' 
 want to, either ; for I've dearly loved him always; in 
 deed, I can't remember the time when I " 
 
 "But you'd learn to love me just as deeply, Alice" 
 interrupted the wooer, passionately; "and I'd maki 
 your life so happy that you'd forget all about him in ; 
 little while." 
 
 "No, Gerald," instantly returned the girl"; I coul( 
 never forget, or learn to love anyone else, so long a: 
 there's Rob. And I am so sorry that this has happened 
 for it really makes me very unhappy to say no to you 
 you've been so kind, and I like and admire you so verj 
 much. O, how I wish I hadn't come over! then al 
 this could have been avoided!" she finished, tremu 
 lously. 
 
 "No it wouldn't, Darling," put in the other, still a< 
 lover-like; for I should have come to you. And ] 
 won't give you up, either !" he declared, with flatter 
 ing determination." I shall make you take advantage 
 
LOVE VERSUS DUTY 305 
 
 of your woman's privilege and change your mind, yet. 
 I shall continue to live upon that hope, Alice, any 
 way." 
 
 "Please don't do that, Gerald" ; urged the girl ; add 
 ing firmly though sweetly, "for it would mean but 
 another disappointment for you. Besides, I shall not 
 stay here any longer now ; I shall speak to Auntie the 
 first thing in the morning about going home." 
 
 "And spoil her visit, Alice?" asked the artful man, 
 reproachfully. "Why I wouldn't have believed that 
 you could have been that selfish." 
 
 "Auntie needn't go, Gerald ; I can travel alone. But 
 I'm sure it wouldn't be right for me to continue your 
 guest after this" ; declared the conscientious girl. Then 
 suddenly rising and bidding him a most unexpected 
 and hasty good-night, Alice slipped quickly from the 
 room. 
 
 Now there are probably as many and diverse types 
 of love so called as there are hearts to feel it, or 
 motives to inspire it ; and according to his type, Gerald 
 Harding perhaps, at this time, did dearly love this girl. 
 But he even more dearly loved to have his own way; 
 and disappointed at her point blank refusal, he was 
 still further annoyed and extremely irritated by her 
 unceremonious departure, for he had by no means 
 finished the pressing of his suit. 
 
 "Hell and damnation!" he exclaimed fiercely, with 
 an angry stamp of the foot, as the door closed behind 
 her. And almost upon the instant, another door 
 
306 BY EARTHQUAKE AND FIRE 
 
 behind which was the divan upon which the two had 
 been sitting opened slowly, and Mrs. Nichols re- 
 entered the room, bringing with her the pretext letter. 
 
 "Why what has happened, Gerald?" she asked, 
 anxiously; catching the man's last lurid word and 
 noting the absence of her niece. 
 
 "Nothing, only that I've been most beautifully 
 turned down !" growled her nephew, with vexation 
 and disgust. 
 
 "Why, Gerald?" came the eager question, as the 
 woman seated herself beside him. 
 
 "Says she's engaged already." 
 
 "To" 
 
 "Yes, to that blamed kid ; the devil take him !" in 
 terrupted her companion hotly. "I wish he was in 
 purgatory right now!" 
 
 "But you surely aren't going to be discouraged and 
 give up at first refusal, my dear boy!" burst out his 
 aunt at once alarmed for the success of her import 
 ant project. "I never would have imagined you so 
 faint-hearted as that. Besides, to say no and mean yes 
 comes natural to women, you know. Why I really 
 thought you loved the girl more than that, Gerald, 
 and had your heart more set upon winning her"; she 
 went on; as though not only surprised, but greatly 
 disappointed at the outcome. "Otherwise, I should not 
 have put myself about as I have to make this most 
 excellent opportunity for you, at such an inconvenient 
 time." 
 
LOVE VERSUS DUTY 307 
 
 "My heart's just that set upon winning her, that 
 I'm getting 'daffy;' 'dippy under the lid' about the 
 girl ;" returned the young man gloomily. "If we could 
 keep her here, I'd have some hopes of bringing her 
 around yet; but she won't stay; says she's going to 
 talk to you tomorrow about going home; that it 
 wouldn't be right for her to remain with me any 
 longer now, and all that sort of infernal tommy-rot. 
 It won't do the little jade any good to run away, 
 though, damn it!" he went on savagely, "for I'll fol 
 low her, blest if I don't! and pester her, 'till she says 
 yes just to get rid of me." 
 
 "That would be time and money both wasted, my 
 dear boy"; put in the other, with most disheartening 
 finality; "for your case is absolutely hopeless anywhere 
 but here and now. Your chances would be nil once 
 she's on the other side again and with Rob; as I told 
 you distinctly, before." 
 
 "Then what do you let her go for"; broke in the 
 other, pettishly. "Keep her here!" 
 
 "You talk like a child, Gerald !" exclaimed his aunt, 
 impatiently. "I can't keep her against her will, can 
 I?" 
 
 "No, but I'm sure you could persuade her to finish 
 out her visit if you tried, and if you'd only intercede 
 for me, she'd become more amenable to reason." 
 
 "Now my dear boy, stop right there" ; commanded 
 Mrs. Nichols; with a silencing gesture. "You know 
 very well that I'm wholly out of the affair; I told 
 you so when I first arrived." 
 
308 BY EARTHQUAKE AND FIRE 
 
 "But the case is different now," argued Gerald, 
 "and I need your help. She'll listen to you, and your 
 opinion will have great weight with her for she's so 
 fond of you. Do this much more for me, Auntie," 
 coaxingly "and you'll never regret it. You will if 
 you don't though," he warned, "for if I can't have 
 Alice, I'll make some disgraceful mesalliance or other, 
 you may be sure of that, and you'll blame yourself 
 as long as you live for not having saved me from it 
 when you could." 
 
 Seeming to deliberate upon her nephew's emphatic 
 request and threat, Mrs. Nichols delayed to answer; 
 but after an interval, with a slowly heaved sigh as of 
 reluctant resignation, she replied, "Well, my dear boy, 
 I presume I shall have to humor you as of old, al 
 though my heart greatly misgives me. I'll see what 
 I can do to keep her for you, but I don't want you 
 to feel too sanguine of results, Gerald, for I know 
 that I am setting myself a very difficult task. In 
 spite of her charming amiability, Alice has a wonder 
 fully decided won't of her own, in any question of sup 
 posed right and wrong!' 
 
 "Whether you succeed or not, Auntie," was the 
 man's grateful reply, "your willingness and kind at 
 tempt, will but add just that much more to my already 
 deep sense of obligation to you." 
 
 Now, to impress her nephew with a 'deep sense of 
 obligation/ was a highly important part of Mrs. 
 Nichols' scheme; hence her premeditated waiting for 
 
LOVE VERSUS DUTY 309 
 
 his appeal, before promising that assistance which she 
 well knew would be needed; for that Alice would re 
 fuse him, was with her a moral certainty. She had 
 played her cards well, and Gerald had 'tumbled' 
 beautifully. Still, it was with a very heavy heart that 
 she now left him and retired to a troubled night, in 
 anticipation of an irksome, unhappier morrow. A 
 self-imposed morrow, it is true; yet, although we may 
 criticise, we may not wholly condemn. We cannot 
 restrain a pang of pity tinged even with admiration 
 for the harassed, little plotter, rent 'twixt conflict 
 ing loves and duties, and who for the sake of the 
 stronger, was now doing wilful violence to the in 
 grained straight-forwardness of her nature. 
 
 Yet while not a woman to turn back once having 
 put her hand to the plow, the heart-stirring interview 
 with Alice on the dreaded morrow, came very near 
 to proving a death blow to the sublime determination 
 of this devoted wife. Long and earnestly did she 
 labor to persuade the girl to change her mind and pro 
 long her visit; appealing successively to a natural 
 youthful love of enjoyment, and her characteristic un 
 selfishness; "for of course, if you persist in going, 
 dear, I shall go with you" ; she at length told the girl ; 
 decidedly though not unkindly. 
 
 But her niece was obdurate ; insisting that it could 
 be no further enjoyment for her to remain longer, and 
 wrong, she felt, as well; "though I should of course, 
 be very sorry to shorten your visit, Auntie"; she de- 
 
310 BY EARTHQUAKE AND FIRE 
 
 clared regretfully; "and there isn't the least need of 
 your going, either, for I can get through all right 
 alone." 
 
 Finding argument along these lines unavailing, Mrs. 
 Nichols, now desperate, came out flat-footed ; and with 
 an eloquence and earnestness worthy of a greater sin 
 cerity, pleaded her nephew's cause; expatiating upon 
 a host of good qualities of which she claimed him to 
 be possessed, and concluding her far-fetched eulogy 
 with, "he's so desperately in love with you, Alice, that 
 I'm afraid your refusal will affect him very seriously; 
 he seems to worship the very ground you walk on; 
 and he's had his heart set upon winning you for years, 
 it seems. He declares he will not give you up, either. 
 And you'd be very happy with him I think, dearie" ; 
 she went on, in a confident tone. Adroitly slipping in, 
 "It would make your Aunt Alice equally happy, too, 
 to see her two loved children united; for I've long 
 wished that such a thing might be." 
 
 "It's very flattering to know that Gerald loves me 
 so, Auntie, indeed it is; Rob does too said Alice, 
 proudly ; "and if there had been no one else, I believe 
 I could have returned it, for he's been so very kind. 
 And then you've always been so good to me, that if s 
 hard, much harder than I can make you understand, 
 I fear, to refuse to do as you both wish"; continued 
 the grateful girl. "But Auntie, I love Rob so, that 
 I can't give him up; indeed I can't; ask anything of 
 me but that!" she pleaded. Her now brimming eyes 
 
LOVE VERSUS DUTY 311 
 
 and faltering voice, her appealing, sweet young face 
 so clouded with sadness, moving the heart of her dis 
 tracted aunt so deeply, filling it with such remorse 
 for the cruel sacrifice for which she had asked, that 
 for the moment, love and sympathy for the unhappy 
 girl triumphed over her great anxiety for the future 
 well-being of her unfortunate husband; and with 
 answering tears dimming her own eyes, Mrs. Nichols 
 pressed the girl affectionately to her heart as she re 
 plied, soothingly, "There ; there ; don't cry ! don't cry, 
 Alice! Why not for world's would I have you give 
 Rob up for Gerald, if your heart's so bound up in him 
 as all that! I supposed you had both outgrown your 
 childish fondness for each other, and didn't dream of 
 such a thing as your being engaged. We'll go home 
 at once, Honey," she promised, cheeringly ; "and what 
 a happy surprise it will be for your Uncle George to 
 see his dear little girl again so soon." 
 
 But as 'twere by magic, the mere speaking of her 
 husband's name in such a connection, flashed before 
 the mind of the repenting woman an alarming realiza 
 tion of the failure of her important mission ; and with 
 it came the harrowing vision of a broken down, de 
 spondent old man at home, bravely though vainly 
 struggling against overwhelming odds to reinstate 
 himself, and be prepared to give a good account of 
 his stewardship. Instantly, the stronger love again 
 predominated, deciding her, once for all, to the play 
 ing of her trump card a merciless playing, if need 
 
312 BY EARTHQUAKE AND FIRE 
 
 be thus far held in reserve, and to the last, with the 
 hope that it might not be needed. "Yes, your Uncle 
 is very fond of you, Alice" ; she resumed impressively ; 
 with scarce a second's break in the conversation, al 
 though in a changed, strange voice. "There's nothing 
 he wouldn't do for you ; / wonder if you love him as 
 much?" she questioned slowly, yet with an intense 
 eagerness. And placing her hands heavily upon the 
 shoulders of her companion as she spoke, Mrs. Nichols 
 studied the expression of her face almost ravenously 
 with searching eyes. Eyes which seemed to burrow 
 into the very farthest depths of the frank, expressive 
 one's before her, as though to find there at least the 
 shadow of the girl's inmost thoughts. 
 
 "Why Auntie!" was the quick, whole-souled re 
 joinder; "I couldn't love Uncle George more if he 
 was my father; he's been so lovely to me always, and 
 then think of all he did for dear Papa; why I'd give 
 my life for him if ' ; 
 
 "Then save him, Alice, by marrying Gerald !" broke 
 in the older woman, with imploring desperation. 
 
 "Save him! by marrying Gerald!" repeated the 
 puzzled girl in surprise. "I I don't understand, 
 Auntie!" 
 
 "To be sure not, dearie"! returned the other toler 
 antly; now tenderly folding an arm about the girl. 
 "So let's sit right down here together while I explain. 
 Now listen!" And with obediently attentive, though 
 it must be confessed, dense ears, for business details 
 
LOVE VERSUS DUTY 313 
 
 were as Hindustanee to her and speculation an utterly 
 unknown science Alice Nichols listened to an unin 
 telligible, distinctively feminine jumble, about 'bulls' 
 and 'bears' and 'plunging' and 'selling short May 
 wheat' and 'your Uncle George' and 'a corner' and 
 'Gerald' and '$75,000' and 'a crash/ et cetera; expres 
 sions of which the narrator herself but dimly compre 
 hended the meaning, but which she recalled from her 
 husband's confession to her of his great losses; the 
 whole topped off with another frantic appeal to "marry 
 Gerald and save your Uncle!" 
 
 "But I don't think I quite know yet, please, 
 Auntie" ; faltered the girl, with a still more mystified 
 look as the exciting story was concluded. "Why I 
 didn't know that they had any shorter wheat in May 
 then any other time of the year. And what did they 
 have animals for where they sold it? Was it out at 
 the stock yards?" 
 
 "O, no, no, my dear child, it wasn't out at the 
 stock yards !" corrected Mrs. Nichols quickly ; with a 
 faint smile. "The 'bulls' and 'bears' aren't really ani 
 mals, you know ; they're men ; they must be, for I dis 
 tinctly remember your uncle's saying that he had 
 always stood in with the 'bears,' although, now I come 
 to think of it, whenever his mind wandered during his 
 long illness, he would grieve about having been 'gored 
 and trampled to death by the 'bulls.' But those are 
 only nicknames, I take it, for the men who manage 
 the thing. It seems to have happened on a certain cor- 
 
314 BY EARTHQUAKE AND FIRE 
 
 ner down on La Salle Street; in some big warehouse, 
 I suppose, for it must take an immense building, you 
 know, Alice, to hold such great quantities of wheat; 
 even if it was short." 
 
 "Ye es, I'm sure it must" ; assented the girl, rather 
 vaguely, though evidently much impressed by the 
 statement. "But what corner was it, Auntie? And 
 what did Uncle George 'crash' into when he fell? 
 Was that what made him so sick, last year?" 
 
 "Yes, and is fast killing him!" and the woman 
 paused for a moment, quite overcome at the remem 
 brance. 
 
 "But you don't seem to understand exactly yet, 
 Alice"; she began presently. "He didn't fall from 
 anywhere ; 'plunging' means buying a zvhole lot more 
 wheat than you've got money to pay for; and must 
 be a very bad thing to do. But I confess, Alice, it's 
 far from clear to me, either ; for you know I'm just as 
 ignorant of business details as you are. Your uncle 
 has always attended to everything of the kind, and 
 I've never bothered my head to grasp them. All I 
 do know, dearie is that he used all of his own money, 
 and then took a whole lot of Gerald's and used that, 
 too, and that it's all gone." The pitiful wail with 
 which the closing statement was concluded being very 
 touching. 
 
 "But how would my marrying Gerald bring any of 
 it back, Auntie?" asked the girl, innocently. 
 
 "It wouldn't bring any of it back, dearie, but your 
 
LOVE VERSUS DUTY 315 
 
 fortune would surely reconcile Gerald to the loss of 
 his own, and keep him from making trouble for your 
 Uncle George. Of course, he shouldn't have used 
 Gerald's money at all, you know; but he somehow 
 expected to make barrels more out of it, and Gejald, 
 of course, would have gotten every penny of the in 
 crease. Other people wouldn't believe that though, 
 and he could be sent to prison for it if it was known," 
 she finished; visibly shuddering at the horrifying 
 thought. 
 
 "But Gerald surely wouldn't tell of it and make such 
 trouble as that for our uncle, Auntie! why I couldn't 
 like him a bit any more if I thought he could be so 
 cruel and ungrateful!" returned the girl, excitedly. 
 "I'm sure / wouldn't if it was my money; I should 
 know he didn't do it purposely. And I know Rob 
 wouldn't, either, if it was his." 
 
 "But men aren't like women, dearie" ; replied the 
 other; ignoring the proud reference to Rob's mag 
 nanimity ; "they're selfish naturally. Not that Gerald's 
 any more so than the average man, probably," she has 
 tened to add, "but you see he's grown up with expec 
 tations, and accustomed to the comforts and even lux 
 uries of life which it would be very hard for him to 
 do without, with his cultured tastes. Besides, no one 
 could blame him for demanding what was lawfully 
 his own. In less than two years from now, his for 
 tune's due him, and naturally he's banking on it. It 
 will be out of the question for it to be gotten together ; 
 
316 BY EARTHQUAKE AND FIRE 
 
 then comes exposure, disgrace, a felon's cell, and a 
 broken heart for your noble uncle. O, Alice, save 
 him" ! she now pleaded, anew. 
 
 "I'd be both proud and happy to save him, Auntie" ; 
 was the warm-hearted answer ; "but it won't be neces 
 sary for me to marry Gerald to do it. Uncle George 
 can have all he needs of my fortune to pay him with, 
 even if it takes the whole of it. I know Rob won't 
 care if I haven't a penny ; and I'll tell Uncle George so 
 the minute we get home. So don't worry any more, 
 Auntie dear," she concluded comfortingly ; patting her 
 aunt affectionately upon the cheek as she spoke. 
 
 "My dear child," now replied the elder, with mani 
 fest appreciation, "that's certainly a very sweet and 
 lovely spirit, but you couldn't help your uncle in that 
 way, for he would go to prison, to a gallows in fact, 
 before that he would touch a penny of yours. And 
 you must not let him know that I've told you of his 
 predicament, Alice"; she cautioned, quickly. "Nor 
 any one else either; not even Gerald if you should 
 decide to marry him; remember that, Alice; never! 
 Oh, why can't you make up your mind to do as I wish, 
 dearie?" she went on again, appealingly; "it's really, 
 the only way in which you can help your uncle, and 
 Gerald's not distasteful to you in any way, I can see 
 that. You know what an agreeable companion he is, 
 and he's handsome, clever, talented, industrious, and 
 loves you to distraction. You'd be proud of him, Alice, 
 and happy with him ; I'm sure you would." 
 
LOVE VERSUS DUTY 317 
 
 "But I don't love him, Auntie, and one should marry 
 only for love." 
 
 "You'd quickly learn to, though, dearie"; persisted 
 her aunt, confidently; "and Gerald's so sure of win 
 ning your love, that he's willing, glad to give all at 
 first. Many girls marry on that basis, Alice ; I'm sure 
 / had never thought of such a thing as loving your 
 uncle when he asked me to be his wife, and see what 
 a perfect success our union has been." 
 
 A moment of anxious waiting for a reply to this 
 last argument, and then the sweet girl spoke, softly 
 and slowly, and very wistfully, and said: "Mamma 
 Manning has told me of how fondly she, and my own 
 dear mother, always wished and hoped that Rob and 
 I would love and marry." 
 
 And to this staggering allusion there was also no 
 immediate response; for the conscience of the elder 
 smote hard within her at this gentle reminder of the 
 well-known fact. Heart and voice alike, for the mo 
 ment, failing, once more her splendid resolution fal 
 tered; and when, by a truly great effort, she had at 
 length silenced the inward monitor, and with a mild 
 persuasiveness had gone on to say, "True, dearie, 
 and yet I can easily believe that your own dear mother 
 would want her little girl to be very sensitive to the 
 call of duty, as well as very zealous in the performance 
 of it" ; even as she craftily delivered herself of the 
 honeyed words, the recreant, scheming woman was 
 riven by a shrinking and cowering of soul before the 
 
318 BY EARTHQUAKE AND FIRE 
 
 accusing thought, "who am 7 to prate of duty? How 
 am I fulfilling mine towards this lone, motherless 
 child?" 
 
 "But what about, Rob, Auntie? And my love for 
 him and my promise?" now argued the troubled girl, 
 with much concern. "I want to do everything for 
 Uncle George that I can honorably, you must know 
 that ; but don't you think it would be wrong for me to 
 go back on my word ? Rob might never get over it ; 
 in fact, I don't think he ever would, Auntie, and it 
 seems to me that I ought to think of him, too. Hard 
 as it would be for me, it would be still harder for him, 
 for while / should have the comfort of knowing that I 
 had saved uncle and pleased you and Gerald, he would 
 have absolutely nothing to comfort him." 
 
 "It would be a disappointment to Rob, of course, 
 dearie," admitted the other, graciously. "But then 
 you know marrying one's first love is the exception 
 in life, not the rule; so that he would be but one of 
 the great majority, after all." And following an al 
 most imperceptible pause, she resumed, with almost 
 cruel carelessness, "There's little danger of its break 
 ing his heart, though, Alice, for young hearts are 
 plastic, and Rob's young, in fact a mere boy ; and a 
 boy's heart is very easily mended. He'd soon forget 
 all about you, no doubt, and be loving somebody else 
 as much, or even more, than he now thinks he does my 
 sweet girl." 
 
 "Then I can't do it, Auntie !" now exclaimed the tor- 
 
LOVE VERSUS DUTY 319 
 
 tured girl, as she burst into tears; "for just the mere 
 thought of Rob's loving anyone else, makes me turn 
 oh! so sick and faint"! And burying the agonized 
 face from which every vestige of color had fled, in 
 her hands, the over-wrought girl here gave way to an 
 uncontrollable fit of most violent weeping. 
 
 Fearful of weakening, Mrs. Nichols now forcibly 
 steeled her heart against the great pity for her niece 
 and the almost over-mastering promptings to ex 
 pressions of sympathy, which surged within it; and 
 when at last the crying had ceased, and the bowed head 
 once more been raised, the pent-up feelings some 
 what relieved by the indulgence she said wearily, 
 not so much in a chiding as in an utterly despondent 
 and pitifully impotent tone, "Well, Alice, there's noth 
 ing more that I can say to you ; no other or stronger 
 appeal that I can make. I confess I had hoped for 
 better results, for I had really believed that you loved 
 your uncle, and that in such a desperate crisis as this, 
 that love would be great enough to outweigh every 
 other and selfish consideration. But I was mistaken, 
 it seems, and there is now nothing before us but ruin 
 and disgrace" Her despairing sigh was truly heart 
 rending to hear. Then, a full and maddening realiza 
 tion of the hopelessness of the desperate situation 
 seeming to fasten itself upon her, the bitterly disap 
 pointed woman added quickly, as a relentless, parting 
 shot, "While I could wish sincerely that it might be 
 so, Alice, it would be farcical for me to express the 
 
320 BY EARTHQUAKE AND FIRE 
 
 hope that you and Rob may be happy together, for 
 I shall still believe you to be possessed of too much 
 heart for that, when the disgraced, heart-broken uncle 
 whom you might have saved, shall be ending his days 
 in Joliet." 
 
 But the random shot had gone straight home, and 
 pierced to the very core, the tender, loving heart of 
 the now conquered girl. "Don't! O, don't, speak of 
 such a fate as that for my dear, good uncle!" she 
 protested, frantically, as the other ceased speaking. 
 "I'll save him ! indeed I will, Auntie ! I'll marry Ger 
 ald no matter whose heart it might break !" adding as 
 an after-thought, "that is, if he still wants me to." 
 
 "Of course he wants you to, dearie!" put in the 
 astonished but relieved woman, heartily; her face 
 from which years seemed to have already dropped, to 
 gether with the deep carved lines put there by crush 
 ing anxiety all aglow, and at once irradiated by 
 the happiest of smiles. And as she folded her niece 
 to her bosom and kissed her again and again, she con 
 tinued, tremulously, "May God reward you as you de 
 serve for this sweet sacrifice, my dear, noble girl ! Oh, 
 that you could look into your Auntie's heart and see 
 the relief and joy with which you have filled it" ! 
 After which, looking hurriedly at her watch, "What! 
 ten-thirty"? she ejaculated in surprise. "Why how 
 long we have been talking ! Run to your room quickly, 
 child, and rest a bit before you dress; your Cousin 
 Gerald will be here shortly to take us to breakfast." 
 
LOVE VERSUS DUTY 321 
 
 When Alice Nichols re-entered the little parlor an 
 hour later or thereabout, aside from an unusual 
 paleness, her lovely face bore no trace of the terrible 
 ordeal through which she had been passing. It had 
 undergone a noticeable change, but it was no less 
 beautiful; rather was it the more so, although its gay, 
 girlish, yet always ethereal beauty, seemed suddenly 
 to have taken on a full albeit a premature ripeness, 
 unnatural in one of her years and inexperience. The 
 youthful, eager expectancy seemed somehow to have 
 died away and been supplanted by a settled calm. 
 Seemingly a contented one, but nevertheless pathetic 
 in one so young. Yet from out the angelic eyes, and 
 beautifying the entire countenance, shone a sustaining 
 exaltation; for in the interim, like the women at the 
 Sepulcher, she had sought and 'seen the Lord/ 
 
CHAPTER VII. 
 
 A MARRIAGE AND ITS CONSEQUENCES. 
 
 " 'No, mother, she has lied to me; played me 
 false; made me forever a laughing-stock among 
 my fellows; and I want never to hear her hated 
 name again.' " 
 
 Next day the brilliant sparkle of a new and costly 
 gem upon the finger of the girl, told of a second pro 
 posal and an acceptance ; and when, but a month later, 
 this same jeweled ring was seen guarding a heavy, 
 plain gold band, one knew that happenings had been 
 rapid since that fateful hour of seemingly invincible 
 necessity, in which our dear, young friend had so 
 nobly said to self, 'Get thee behind me'! 
 
 Yet the seeming undue haste had been satisfactory 
 to them all. The proud and happy lover had been 
 most impatient to possess his bride. The duenna, 
 anxious for release from chaperonage, that she might 
 return to husband and home, and doubly anxious also. 
 for the tying of the 'Gordian Knot/ which, with re 
 lieving certainty, would transfer to the hand, the bird 
 yet fluttering in at least partial, and therefore danger 
 ous liberty in the bush. 
 
 'If 'twere well when it were done, then 'twere well 
 it were done quickly/ was the admonishing thought 
 kept ever in view by her; and although at times, 'tis 
 
A MARRIAGE ITS CONSEQUENCES 323 
 
 true, a disquieting apprenhension as to the ultimate 
 and absolute wellness of the proceeding would pro- 
 vokingly 'butt in' as she declared impatiently to her 
 self to disturb her serenity, it had always been quick 
 ly banished by a pitiful, home vision; and the plea of 
 the lover for haste had therefore found in her a ready 
 and powerful advocate. 
 
 As for the girl, since it had been to please others, 
 not herself, that she had consented to take the irrevo 
 cable step, her attitude had been passive to a degree. 
 Capitulation, had been for her the important part of 
 the transaction; the time of final and complete sur 
 render, be it earlier or later, but a mere bagatelle; 
 hence, their wishes in the matter had been hers. 
 
 With means at her command, and the merchandise 
 of the world spread out before them in that world's 
 Emporium, it had been a simple enough undertaking 
 to procure a suitably elaborate trousseau at short 
 notice; and following the required civil marriage of 
 the previous day, on a sultry August noon, a richly 
 andi fashionably dressed, though very sedate little 
 bridal party of three, repaired by appointment to the 
 American Chapel; and there, shamefully cheated out 
 of all the accompanying fuss and feathers that are the 
 inalienable birthright of every young, beautiful and 
 wealthy girl, at her wedding, so inexpressibly dear to 
 her heart at the time, so rich in lingering, happy mem 
 ories, Alice Nichols had been given away by the 
 very aunt under whose auspices the brilliant, joyous 
 
324 BY EARTHQUAKE AND FIRE 
 
 wedding of her late mother had come off a generation 
 before; and in deference to a romantic wish of the 
 bride to spend her honeymoon in one of the countries 
 visited and most enjoyed by her loved parents upon 
 their wedding journey, the new-made pair had at once 
 set out for Switzerland. 
 
 Unspeakably relieved and deeply thankful for the so 
 speedy and successful termination of her diplomatic 
 mission, Mrs. Nichols, on the following day, bade a 
 glad goodbye to Paris, and set her face once more 
 homewards; a-flutter with impatience to carry to her 
 embarrassed husband full details of the final climax 
 to what, so she significantly told him she consid 
 ered "a most fortunate attachment." 
 
 Now, Alice and with reason had justly pleaded 
 with her aunt to be allowed to make an exception in 
 Robert's case, and divulge the reason for her most 
 extraordinary action in renouncing him. "I can't have 
 him and Mamma Manning think me fickle, faithless, 
 Auntie"; she had tearfully urged. And to pacify the 
 girl, consent had been reluctantly given ; with the foxy 
 stipulation, however, that the information should come 
 through Mrs. Nichols herself. "I don't blame you 
 in the least, Alice, for feeling as you do about it," she 
 told the girl, indulgently, "and for your sake it's but 
 right that Robert should know. I believe that we can 
 trust him with our tremendously vital secret. But it 
 would surely be a very hard and trying ordeal for you 
 to write him, dearie ; beside, now that you are Gerald's 
 
A MARRIAGE ITS CONSEQUENCES 325 
 
 fiancee, you two should carry on no further corres 
 pondence, whatever, you know. Just leave the matter 
 to me, honey ; I'll write and explain the whole situa 
 tion to Mrs. Manning at once." 
 
 With unquestioning confidence, Alice had then com 
 menced a nervously agitated counting of the days 
 which must elapse before the expected answer might 
 arrive. Even up to the very hour of her marraige had 
 the trustful girl comforted herself with the sweet hope 
 of receiving some word of forgiveness ; some encour 
 aging, soothing approval of her course, even, she at 
 times dared to hope, or at the least, some little part 
 ing message of good wishes and good will, for all of 
 which she most hungrily longed. But, of course, none 
 such had ever come; and expectation and hope finally 
 dying out, O, how the young heart had sickened; op 
 pressed with its most desolating sense of utter loneli 
 ness, because of this estrangement from her dearest 
 and best beloved friends. 
 
 Yet with a truly martyr-like fortitude and endur 
 ance, the noble girl had kept the secret of her bitter 
 disappointment deep hidden in her own heart, 
 strengthened always by the approving consciousness 
 of a loving duty accepted and discharged, and had 
 gone to her loveless marriage with apparent cheerful 
 ness; determined to acquit herself creditably in the 
 new, complex and delicate relationship upon which 
 she was about to enter. Hopefully, also, had she gone, 
 and without misgivings; for surely, if seemingly irre- 
 
326 BY EARTHQUAKE AND FIRE 
 
 proachable habits in a lover, open and adoring admir 
 ation, tenderest solicitude, and constantly, the most 
 fervid declarations of love, were safe and reasonable 
 evidences upon which to build, then scarce might a 
 girl ever have gone to the arms of a husband with 
 such confident hope for the happy married life, which 
 must, it would seem, follow their union ; Gerald having 
 always been pleasing to her as a friend, it will be re 
 membered. Thus, save for the first and awful wrench 
 to this sensitive, loving nature, one might have felt 
 her case to call for but little, if any of sympathy ; not 
 any of pity. 
 
 Upon his aunt, too, had the behavior of the young 
 man created a like favorable impression, particularly 
 gratifying to her in view of the former doubts as 
 to his worthiness; his love for Alice seeming so deep 
 and true as to completely over-shadow self. "If it 
 only lasts," she would muse thoughtfully, at times, 
 "Gerald will surely have been transformed by the 
 mighty power of love." On the eve of his wedding 
 she had counseled the prospective bridegroom with 
 great and touching earnestness, and told him of her 
 high hopes for happiness in his married life ; particu 
 larly urging the importance of unselfishness in his new 
 relation. 
 
 "It is by the exercise of that virtue alone, Gerald, 
 that you will win and keep the love of your wife, but 
 believe me, the game will be well worth the candle. 
 Oh, be kind and good to her always, my dear boy," 
 
A MARRIAGE ITS CONSEQUENCES 327 
 
 she importuned him, tearfully ; "for if ever a man had 
 a beauty and a saint as well for a wife, it will surely 
 be you. I confess there was a time when I thought 
 her far too good for you, and hesitated to use my in 
 fluence in your behalf; but I have been well satisfied 
 and much pleased with appearances since we came 
 over, and if there is no change upon your part, I can 
 foresee for you and her a truly model life together. 
 Don't disappoint me, my dear boy, don't disappoint 
 me" ! she pleaded ; "for if you should make her life 
 unhappy and break her heart, as your father did your 
 poor mother's, and to be frank with you, Gerald, 
 you are wonderfully like him in many ways, I could 
 never forgive you, or myself, for having helped you to 
 win her. You've certainly drawn the capital prize, 
 Gerald; now guard it well, by guarding against self 
 ishness; which pardon my plain speaking, has al 
 ways been your besetting sin. You love Alice very 
 deeply, do you not, my dear boy" ? 
 
 "Love is a feeble word, Auntie"; replied the young 
 man, soberly. And with his usual extravagant em 
 phasis went on, "I adore her ! I worship her. As I've 
 repeatedly told her, my life is laid at her feet. I real 
 ize, fully I think, what a prize I've drawn, and further 
 more, I realize also that but for your effective inter 
 vention I should never have won her. What can I 
 ever do to repay you, Auntie"? 
 
 "My help has been gladly given, and has been purely 
 a labor of love, my dear boy," returned the unsus- 
 
328 BY EARTHQUAKE AND FIRE 
 
 pected schemer, blandly love for whom it was of 
 course inexpedient to state ; the man was free to draw 
 what inferences he chose "and I want no pay other 
 than that you be good and true to my dear girl; that 
 is all I ask of you, Gerald"; she finished, with eyes 
 that glistened with sincere emotion. And then, with 
 a seemingly playful though intended threatening, "If 
 you don't, and / hear of it, look out for squalls." 
 
 From the foregoing interview we catch a glimpse 
 of the unmistakably deep love of Mrs. Nichols for 
 her orphaned charge, as well as the intense anxiety 
 felt for her welfare. Yet, how contradictory is human 
 nature ; and 'what a tangled web we weave, when first 
 we practice to deceive/ 
 
 Surely never was this axiomatic truth more clearly 
 illustrated than in the case of this misguided woman 
 at this time; for in the unworthy carrying out of her 
 unworthy project, she had been obliged to practice 
 upon her loved niece the very crudest deception. From 
 the time her promise of a full and immediate explan 
 ation to Mrs. Manning of the girl's peculiar position 
 and dutiful sacrifice had been made, certain of discov 
 ery and fearful of the miscarrying of her plans, should 
 Alice continue to receive her absent lover's letters, she 
 had felt it necessary to keep from the girl several of 
 his last to arrive ; since not until the tying of Hymen's 
 knot should have made a dreaded, fatal change of mind 
 impossible, did she purpose writing the promised ex 
 planation. 
 
A MARRIAGE ITS CONSEQUENCES 329 
 
 "I just can't have everything spoiled by them at 
 this juncture"; was the way she reasoned regarding 
 Robert and his mother. "Of course, they'd write her 
 that 'tis an absurdly Quixotic idea, and do everything 
 in their power to persuade her to retract; it's but 
 natural that they should. As for the complete revela 
 tion for which the girl has stipulated, why that's a 
 very serious matter, to be taken under advisement; I 
 ought never to have made so sweeping a promise. It's 
 quite out of the question, though, for me to inform 
 them how matters stand now; I've simply got to keep 
 them in the dark until everything's over, that's certain. 
 Oh, well, what they don't know won't hurt them ; bad 
 news travels fast enough at its slowest, anyway." 
 Thus did the hitherto irreproachable Mrs. Nichols 
 cajole herself comfortingly, in extenuation of her un 
 pardonable delinquency. 
 
 So it was, that not until after the return to her 
 apartments on the day of that extraordinary wedding, 
 after having with intense relief and satisfaction, 
 seen the parties to it started upon the perilous journey 
 of married life and safely on their travels, did she set 
 about the performing of her most momentous and deli 
 cate task. But, as the result of repeated and imper 
 ative silencings, the whisperings of the 'still, small 
 voice' had by that time become so faint, that the last 
 important act upon French soil of this ordinarily most 
 veracious and considerate woman, had been the pen- 
 
330 BY EARTHQUAKE AND FIRE 
 
 ning of the following cruelly insinuating, misleading, 
 unsympathetic, and calamitous letter: 
 
 "Paris 
 "My Dear Mrs. Manning:" (she wrote.) 
 
 "Any written communication from me, would come 
 to you somewhat in the nature of a mild surprise, I 
 know. But this one will be even a trifle startling, I 
 fancy, since it carries word of the marriage, at noon 
 today, of Alice, to my nephew, Gerald Harding; this 
 being the outcome of a very deep attachment which 
 sprung up between the two, it seems, although un 
 known to me at the time, during the young man's 
 unexpected visit to us last summer; when they were 
 much together, if you remember. The happy couple 
 are now journeying towards Switzerland, where the 
 honeymoon is to bq passed. 
 
 Alice had thought to write you herself; but every 
 thing came about so suddenly, and the lovers being 
 impatient for a speedy marriage, there was so much 
 to be planned for and arranged in such a very little 
 while, that the dear girl really seemed to find no time 
 for any outside matters. Naturally, too, the little 
 understanding which, so she has told me existed 
 between your son and herself, made her shrink from 
 the unpleasant duty ; so my offer, finally, to relieve her 
 of it, was glady seized upon ; hence this letter. A sit 
 uation of that sort cannot but be exceedingly trying, 
 we know, to one so sensitive and honorably inclined 
 as she. Yet, when it is a case of heart answering to 
 
A MARRIAGEITS CONSEQUENCES 331 
 
 heart, I really think that much allowance should be 
 made for a girl who merely avails herself of the ad 
 mitted privilege of her sex, and changes her mind ; 
 don't you? 
 
 The affair will be a bit of a disappointment to 
 Robert, I presume, but I trust that both he and you 
 will coincide with me in the above tolerant opinion. 
 
 Alice is well, and made a wonderfully handsome, 
 charming bride. She and Gerald seem so particularly 
 well fitted for each other, that I anticipate for them 
 an exceptionally happy life together; and I feel sure 
 that you will both join me in the hope that these my 
 sanguine expectations, may be most abundantly real 
 ized. 
 
 With kind regards, very sincerely, 
 
 ALICE A. NICHOLS/' 
 
 "P. S. Announcement in regular form 
 accompanies this under separate cover." 
 
 Truly, the pen is mightier than the sword ; for never 
 was there Damascus blade so cleverly fashioned, so 
 finely tempered, that by a single stroke, however skill 
 fully wielded, could cleave and lay apart the heart of 
 an intended victim, so completely, as was the loving, 
 utterly devoted heart of Robert Manning, by these 
 few, comprehensive, brutal words of deadliest intent; 
 and which seemed so incongruously to have fallen 
 from the fragile point of a golden pen. 
 
 The cruel stroke had descended upon him without 
 other preparation than a few weeks of suddenly in- 
 
332 BY EARTHQUAKE AND FIRE 
 
 terrupted correspondence, for which he had at first, 
 impatiently and fretfully held Uncle Sam responsible. 
 Then the fear of illness or accident had crept in to 
 worry and alarm; but, strange though it may appear, 
 the youth had experienced no warning premonition 
 as to the true cause for the girl's unexplained silence. 
 Nor was it so strange, either; for as he read her 
 recent and always delightful letters over and over 
 and over again each day, did he not find them always 
 overflowing with sweetest, most fervent expressions of 
 love and loyalty, together with those thoughtful, satis 
 fying and comforting accounts as to Gerald's attitude 
 towards her? And to doubt her sincerity, would no 
 more have occurred to the trustful youth, than to doubt 
 the self-evident fact of living. 
 
 We purposely refrain from the rehearsing of any 
 specific or vivid details of the effects of the awful 
 shock of Mrs. Nichols' announcement, upon the youth ; 
 for even though time and space permitted, and lan 
 guage could be found or words coined, adequate to 
 depict the mortal agony of soul through which he 
 passed, the sacredness of such emotions would forbid, 
 while their harrowing nature would make them but an 
 unkind tax upon the sympathy of the reader. When 
 we call to mind the fact, however, that Robert Man 
 ning's love for Alice Nichols had been coeval with 
 memory, deep as feeling, and sweeter to him than life, 
 before the eyes of our minds, at least in silhouette, 
 there must appear a picture of the awful havoc 
 
A MARRIAGE ITS CONSEQUENCES 333 
 
 wrought in his constant young heart, by such a tearing 
 out of it of the idol always enshrined there. 
 
 Stunned and dazed by the blow, the full effects of 
 its crushing force were not at first so directly appar 
 ent. But as the melancholy days went by, and the 
 indisputably damaging testimony contained in the fatal 
 letter was over and over dwelt upon, digested, and 
 compared with the countless loving, but now, evi 
 dently perfidious, professions of the girl, both verb 
 ally and in writing, Robert was seen to change. There 
 was no longer a giving way to outbursts of emotion, 
 nor was there any physical breakdown or mental col 
 lapse ; his wounded pride, strong constitution and 
 strong will, prevented either of these latter. But his 
 heart seemed to petrify ; to become as stone. Inherit 
 ing an unusually strong, self-reliant nature, the youth 
 now appeared to wrap himself about as with a mantle 
 in these characteristics; flouting even his mother's 
 sympathy, and instantly angered when she whose 
 loyal heart could not lose its faith in Gertie's child, 
 even while striving to bring comfort to her own, 
 would plead for a more charitable opinion of the of 
 fending girl. 
 
 "There's something more to this than we know, 
 Robert; more than appears upon the surface," she 
 would tenderly urge. "I know the girl too well to 
 believe her wilfully capable of such an action. It has 
 been Mrs. Nichols' doings, you may be sure of that; 
 the woman's a born match-maker, and has always been 
 
334 BY EARTHQUAKE AND FIRE 
 
 extravagantly fond of her nephew and indulgent to his 
 whims. Suspend judgment, my son, until the mat 
 ter's cleared up, as I feel sure it will be, some day." 
 
 But each appeal of the sort had but irritated the 
 more, and brought forth the truly unanswerable fling : 
 "She married him, didn't she? And no one can com 
 pel a girl to marry a man against her will. No, 
 mother; I can see now how she has been deceiving 
 me all along; she has always stood up for Gerald, 
 whenever occasion offered; even in her last, hypo 
 critical letter" ; he would sneer, with the nausea of dis 
 gust. "And why ? Because she was in love with him ! 
 And why was she in love with him? Because of his 
 greater wealth, of course! Have we not been told 
 that this attachment began last summer? The almighty 
 dollar had already bought her faithless heart for him, 
 even while she was vowing undying love for me. No, 
 mother, she has lied to me ! played me false ! made me 
 forever a laughing stock among my fellows ! and I 
 want never to hear her hated name again! if you have 
 any love for me, you will cease to mention it in my 
 presence" ! he finally commanded. 
 
 And from that day, the sweet name which had hith 
 erto been one to conjure with in that household, was 
 heard there no more. Reminders of the girl were re 
 moved from sight by the mother, all tokens destroyed 
 by the son; so bitter was his feeling. And with this 
 bitterness of feeling Robert became also selfish in his 
 sorrow, forgetful of the fact, that to his loving mother 
 
A MARRIAGE ITS CONSEQUENCES 335 
 
 the disappointment was scarcely second to his own, 
 while, with the added burden that his well known, even 
 though unadmitted sufferings entailed, her distress, 
 differing from his own in nature though it was, was 
 probably no less poignant. 
 
 To gratify his wish for the uninterrupted pursuit of 
 his law studies, so anxious was he to finish in the 
 shortest possible time, the unselfish mother had will 
 ingly agreed to remain in town that entire Summer; 
 and impelled and cheered by an ever present vision 
 of the dear one, for love of whom his ultra-ambitious 
 efforts were being put forth, the eager, young student 
 had found unmitigated delight in an almost gluttonous 
 cramming of himself with the principles and precepts 
 of Blackstone. But now, with the mainspring of mo 
 tive all at once put out of commission, ambition lag 
 ged; the tasks of life, which had formerly been as 
 recreations, became intolerably burdensome; while as 
 for pleasures, it no longer held them. 
 
 Thus, unhappily and without show of improvement, 
 matters had gone on for a considerable time ; the wor 
 ried mother seeing her former companionable, sunny- 
 tempered boy, becoming daily more moody, morose, 
 cynical ; his faith in womankind all gone, with hard and 
 bitter heart and words, declaring that he would never 
 trust another, would never marry. And with a now 
 full, and at last, truly sympathetic understanding of 
 the pangs of disappointed love, his words brought 
 again to mind a time and scene many years buried in 
 
336 BY EARTHQUAKE AND FIRE 
 
 oblivion, when for love of her, another young man, al 
 though in a far different spirit, had made the self 
 same vow, which, although she knew it not, was 
 still unbroken. For their paths had never since 
 crossed, the son, because of her rejection, having 
 changed his life plans and settled in the East, where 
 the fond parents had soon followed him. Only in 
 print had she for years heard his name mentioned; 
 but wherever a great calamity had called for unsel 
 fish, heroic service, a Johnstown flood, a New Or 
 leans epidemic, a Charleston earthquake, a railroad 
 horror, or what not, always in the van of ministering 
 angels to appear upon the scene, she had been proud 
 to read the name of Dr. Harold Lincoln Gardiner ; and 
 she could but hope and pray that Robert's bitterness 
 might in time be overcome, when his disappointment 
 should haply have found solace in a like unselfish 
 sympathy for the sorrows, and a ministering to the 
 sufferings of others. 
 
 At length, hopeful that travel and a temporary 
 change of scene and surroundings would aid in re 
 storing her son to normal, for although the Fall sem 
 ester was now on, Robert would absent himself from 
 class for days without excuse, and shutting himself up 
 alone in his room would give way to a stubborn 
 brooding over the hardness and injustice of his fate 
 the fond mother had proposed to him a respite of a 
 few months from study and a trip to the Western 
 coast; to California. 
 
A MARRIAGE ITS CONSEQUENCES 337 
 
 "Fred has been wanting you to come for so long, 
 you know, dear," Fred being Fred Elliott, the play 
 mate of childhood and the chum of after years, whose 
 family had been for some little time residents of the 
 city of San Francisco, "and this is just the very time 
 for you to go; you'll have a splendid visit, and come 
 back to me my own happy boy once more, I know"! 
 declared the mother, confidently. And so, after much 
 persuading, though with no show of interest or pleas 
 ure in the undertaking, Robert Manning had con 
 sented to do as his fond and anxious mother advised 
 and wished. 
 
 Warmly received by the friends whose estimate of 
 him had always been most flattering, and whose sym 
 pathy was equally deep and sincere, during a lengthy 
 visit the youth was also royally entertained. But the 
 gaping wound in his young heart healed not a whit, 
 although a necessarily enforced show of cheerfulness 
 would have indicated the contrary. Yet, as his visit 
 neared its end, with this unhealed wound as livid as 
 when first inflicted, and more and more inflamed, the 
 thought of a return to the always painfully suggestive 
 atmosphere and associations of his home city became 
 unutterly obnoxious to the youth ; and he longed for a 
 life amid the distractions and possible infection of the 
 larger, light-hearted city, sitting so majestically upon 
 the picturesque hills that bordered the Golden Gate. 
 
 But, knowing how deep-seated was the love of his 
 mother for the spot to which her heart was bound by 
 
338 BY EARTHQUAKE AND FIRE 
 
 so many imperishable ties, Robert for a season could 
 not bring himself to propose the change of residence 
 for which he longed. Yet always as he asked himself 
 the question, 'was there ever a time when my welfare 
 and happiness were not dearer to her than her own?' 
 there was but one answer to be heard to the preposter 
 ous query. So at length, the proposition had been 
 made ; with the result that after a four months' separ 
 ation which both had keenly felt, the selfless mother 
 had joined him in the city of his choice. 
 
 A new and attractive home was there set up in a 
 cozy flat overlooking the beautiful and imposing bay, 
 whose vast expanse of sparkling waters had more than 
 once tempted the unhappy youth to seek surcease from 
 the intolerable burden of his disordered emotions, 
 within her chilly depths. But, as the graceful waves 
 of the mighty ocean, daily washing in and out over the 
 sand-strewn shores upon which they tarried, left a 
 welcome cleansing and refreshment in their wake, "so, 
 in time," dreamed the now hopeful mother, "Lethe's 
 waves, by a merciful washing in and out over the 
 wreck-strewn shores of memory, will bring refresh 
 ment, and at least a measure of easement, to the nag 
 ging pain in my poor boy's heart." 
 
 The catastrophe, however, had brought more than 
 a change of residence to the Manning's ; it had brought 
 also a change in Robert's life work. Study, which 
 had before been a passion with him, had now grown 
 distasteful. "I simply cannot settle down to it again, 
 
A MARRIAGE ITS CONSEQUENCES 339 
 
 mother"; he had urged, when asking for his parent's 
 sanction to a change. "I must have something more 
 immediately distracting. I want to go into mercantile 
 life. Mr. Elliott has influence, you know, and can se 
 cure for me a very acceptable position, in which there 
 will be good opportunity for advancement if I fill the 
 bill, which he seems to have no fears about my doing ; 
 and the salary" mentioning the amount "is certainly 
 good for a greenhorn. Now what do you say, mother 
 dear"? And what the mother said may be gathered 
 from the fact that Law and a further college course, 
 were dropped, and the son had instead entered upon 
 the duties of a junior clerkship with a leading com 
 mercial company. 
 
 Although now unnaturally subdued and repellently 
 distant in manner, one might have felt proud, indeed, 
 to know the fine, manly, capable looking fellow who, 
 seated at a desk in its office, industriously pored over 
 the confusing array of figures daily placed before him, 
 and have felt equally confident of his making good. 
 And one who knew the cause of this unnaturalness, 
 while feeling deeply for the youth, must have as deep 
 ly regretted that they dared not ask him for a few, 
 comforting words, to send to a shamefully misjudged, 
 and already, needy young matron, upon the other side. 
 
CHAPTER VIII. 
 
 THREE HAPPENINGS. 
 
 " 'Great Scott, Sis, she's fainted! Let's get her 
 out of here quick'!" 
 
 It is the half-filled bottle, and the head with : 'Un 
 furnished Apartments to Let,' that make ever the 
 most to-do about discharging their scant and puny 
 contents. Also, 'talk's cheap'; and it is the vacuous, 
 hollow heart, that is ever the most conspicuous and 
 vociferous in its protestations of affection. The roar 
 ing, combustible passion which burns incessantly at 
 fever heat, soon burns itself out. The inextinguish 
 able, smoldering fire of true, enduring love, emits but 
 occasional assuring flashes, but permeates and warms 
 the entire heart; making it literally 'too full for utter 
 ance'; unselfish deeds, not idle words, are its lan 
 guage. Thus it is not always the most impetuous and 
 ardent wooer whose sentiment is the truest and deep 
 est, but Vicey versey and the same,' to quote Sa- 
 mantha Allen. 
 
 These are but generalities, however. To get right 
 down to personalities, Gerald Harding had not been 
 long wed, before his showy, combustible imitation of 
 love had burned itself out; to dying embers had suc 
 ceeded a splotch of cold, gray ash. As of old, from 
 
THREE HAPPENINGS 341 
 
 the days of childish indulgences to those of love's 
 amours, the pleasure of the chase had begun to wane 
 with capture and possession ; and the surprised, young 
 wife was early made aware of the change. 
 
 In their journeyings, the beauty and charming per 
 sonality of the sweet bride had naturally attracted 
 notice, and at times, called forth evidences of that 
 harmless admiration which is ever beauty's accepted 
 tribute from the world. What less could the man ex 
 pect? But now the inate selfishness of nature which 
 could not long be held in check, began cropping out, to 
 show itself in an unreasoning jealousy; for unpro 
 voked, unwarranted jealousy is but selfishness gone to 
 seed. The opportunities for many agreeable associa 
 tions had therefore been curtailed and their enjoyment 
 spoiled, by the man's open and even rude resentment 
 of any courtesies offered to his wife ; thereby not only 
 humiliating and mortifying, but largely depriving her 
 of those legitimate social pleasures to which every 
 woman has a right. 
 
 It was the same after their return to Paris. Settled 
 in a handsome home and possessed of great natural at 
 tractions, Alice had been quickly surrounded by a 
 circle of admiring acquaintances, from among whom a 
 choice few of most enjoyable intimates might have 
 been culled ; but here, too, the continual and contempti 
 ble jealousy of the dog in the manger husband inter 
 fered. Yet although the honeymoon, which had not 
 been all honey, it will be seen, had in this respect de- 
 
342 BY EARTHQUAKE AND FIRE 
 
 feated the expectations of our deserving young friend, 
 in her innocence, the girl had set down her husband's 
 unreasoning jealousy to his deep, extravagant love; 
 and had therefore found it in her heart not only to 
 overlook and forgive the unhappiness which his many 
 annoying demonstrations had caused her, but even to 
 strive to return his supposed affection. Not that 
 Robert was forgotten, or that she could ever feel for 
 any other that worshipful, self-effacing love, which for 
 him had been born with her and would ever remain 
 alive, entombed though it must be in her heart. But 
 the same, exalted sense of devotion to a supposed duty 
 which had led to relinquishment, also set clearly before 
 this conscientious young matron, the right of her hus 
 band to a sentiment as nearly approximating the for 
 mer as might be possible; and had the man proven 
 worthy, gratitude allied to this high sense of duty, 
 would have at length inspired her with an abiding 
 affection, scarce lacking the fervor of that lifelong 
 love. 
 
 For Gerald was now her all, it must be remembered ; 
 every other tie having been severed, her bridges all 
 burned. Only in her married life could happiness 
 henceforth be hoped for; and it was therefore with 
 alarm that Alice Nichols began to see and to feel evi 
 dences of the waning of her husband's impetuous love. 
 
 The simple-minded wife then took to upbraiding her 
 self; certain the fault must lie at her door that she 
 was becoming less attractive to him; 'although, not 
 
THREE HAPPENINGS 343 
 
 even for Rob, could I have tried harder to please' ; she 
 would meditate ruefully upon occasion. Yet to win 
 him back to the old, sweet ways, now became a passion 
 with her. Her daily study was to look her prettiest, 
 to be her sweetest. His wishes, his most unreasoning 
 whims she had from the first deferred to; now they 
 were even anticipated. But to no avail, for her self- 
 abnegation was but a casting of 'pearls before swine' ; 
 and Gerald Harding was just the breed of swine to 
 'trample them under foot and turn again and rend' 
 her. 
 
 .The Cad! Even while objecting to the ordinary 
 gentlemanly civilities being paid his wife, his feet were 
 already itching for a return to the primrose path; 
 whose fascinations were far more alluring to his de 
 cadent tastes, than the legitimate pleasures of a virtu 
 ous married life. 
 
 For Gerald Harding' s bachelor habits had by no 
 means been the spotless ones his fond aunt imagined. 
 During her short stay in Paris, he had in the main kept 
 aloof from his every day associates, as they had been 
 warned to keep away from him; and appearances 
 had therefore been satisfactory, as she had told him. 
 But now, his market made, his aunt no longer there to 
 catch on, his utterly unsophisticated young wife most 
 easy to deceive, discretion had been thrown to the 
 winds, and his handsomely appointed studio in the 
 Boulevard d' Atelier, became again the rendezvous of 
 a set impossible of presentation to a wife. 
 
344 BY EARTHQUAKE AND FIRE 
 
 Alice had come upon one of these flashy, much be- 
 jeweled young beauties there one day, stretched out 
 in careless abandon in a reclining chair, contentedly 
 puffing at a cigarette. This was but a few months 
 after the return from their wedding trip, when she 
 had dropped in at the studio unexpectedly to while 
 away a lonely hour in her husband's company. Gerald 
 had not offered to introduce the girl, but at dinner, 
 had taken pains to inform his wife that she was a 
 model, posing for a coming cartoon. 
 
 "Such people are necessary to your work I pre 
 sume, dear," replied the trustful wife, sweetly, "but 
 I really can't help wishing that they weren't; I don't 
 like to think of my husband being associated even 
 professionally with any one so bold and unlady-like 
 looking." 
 
 "One of the necessary munitions of war, Alice"; 
 returned the man, nonchalantly; adding, "Art isn't 
 all representations of angels and arch-angels, white- 
 robed vestal virgins, and their uninteresting ilk, you 
 must know, and my present branch in particular is 
 not exactly a camping ground for saints and seraphs. 
 Of course, I'm aiming and working toward higher 
 things, but I know perfectly the class of subjects 
 necessary to my work now," he continued rather 
 tartly, "and there's no need of your giving yourself 
 any concern, whatever, about the matter, for it's out 
 of your domain, entirely. Art is an artist's mistress; 
 and when a girl's fool enough to marry one, she must 
 
THREE HAPPENINGS 345 
 
 expect to take second place ; that's all, and this is 
 perhaps as good a time as any for you to learn it. 
 And what is more, Alice," he went on, "I would 
 prefer that you kept away from my studio, for it 
 interferes with my work. Breaks in upon a valuable 
 train of thought, or else scatters a bunch of record- 
 breaking mind pictures, like as not, and the same 
 inspiration never comes to a fellow again; so please 
 don't come down any more." 
 
 And the bitterly disappointed young wife, who 
 could have hoped her company to have even proven 
 an 'inspiration/ hurt, both by his words and manner, 
 yet with no thought of doubt as to the sincerity of 
 her husband, had from that day kept away as re 
 quested. 
 
 It was not very long afterward, however, that she 
 had been shocked to come upon Gerald openly driving 
 with the same, loud creature on the Bois, one after 
 noon, after having excused himself from accompany 
 ing her as had been his daily custom up to that time 
 with the plea of 'too much work to be done' ; and as 
 before, there had been a plausible excuse for the 
 occurrence. 
 
 "These models are in great demand," he explained 
 that evening, 'and independent as hogs on ice' in 
 consequence; have to handle them with gloves all 
 the time, or a competitor's got them before you can 
 say 'Jack Robinson.' The girl hasn't her equal on 
 the market for my class of work, she's so versatile; 
 
346 BY EARTHQUAKE AND FIRE 
 
 and so I have to put up with her devilish, impertinent 
 airs, and humor her once in a while. Why she actu 
 ally threatened to quit and go over to LeBarge, this 
 afternoon, if I wouldn't take her for a drive; and I 
 can't afford to lose her. I'd rather you didn't drive 
 any more when I'm unable to go with you, Alice," he 
 put in foxily; "It doesn't look well for a woman to 
 be on the Bois alone, to my way of thinking, and I 
 don't care to have my wife seen there without me; 
 an afternoon without a drive occasionally won't kill 
 you I guess, anyway," he concluded shortly. 
 
 But why multiply exasperating instances? Why 
 further dwell or enlarge upon an unpleasant subject? 
 This was but one of many, oft recurring, similar tragic 
 cases, wherein an innocent, trusting girl, a selfish, 
 heartless man of the world, a cruel, faithless husband, 
 a neglected, unhappy wife, represent the dramatis 
 personae. Surely the adult reader's own knowledge 
 of life and the world and this book is not intended 
 for kindergartners can supply the many omitted de 
 tails, with all their sad concomitants; not forgetting 
 even that especially pitiable one in this case, that 
 Alice Harding was a stranger in a strange land, and 
 as a result of a set of most deplorable circumstances, 
 lonely at heart, beyond expression. 
 
 Thus passed a first, and indeed, disappointing year 
 of married life for this most worthy wife; a year in 
 which a degree of happiness, at least, partially com 
 mensurate with her great sacrifice, had been not only 
 
THREE HAPPENINGS 347 
 
 hoped for, but confidently expected, from the ex 
 travagantly flattering, tender way in which she had 
 been wooed and won. But which, alas ! had well nigh 
 crushed out hope, and banished expectation. 
 
 Then, suddenly, three happenings, unlocked for but 
 vitally important, following each other in quick suc 
 cession, had broken the wearisome and worrisome 
 monotony of Alice Nichols' life, and in one par 
 ticular at least, had changed its course. First, their 
 Uncle George had died, very unexpectedly, six 
 months before an accounting must be made to his 
 foster-son and nephew; his death, no doubt, hastened 
 by chagrin and worry, perhaps even by fear. Imme 
 diately upon the receipt of the sad news, Gerald had 
 taken a flying trip to America, alone a voyage at 
 the time being hardly advisable for the wife to look 
 after his interests. 
 
 Now the fellow's fortune, we feel loath to state, 
 was by this time all gone ; for during the short, diplo 
 matic absence of his wife in Europe the previous 
 year, Mr. Nichols, hardly responsible mentally at the 
 time, in desperation such as impels a drowning man 
 to clutch at a straw, had put what remained of it from 
 his former bad investments, into another to his 
 mind alluring 'fly' ; and had again lost. Lost for 
 himself, as well; for in order to raise the necessary 
 money for his own part of the deal, he had placed a 
 second mortgage upon their city home, which, because 
 of the dangers of travel, he had persuaded his wife 
 
348 BY EARTHQUAKE AND FIRE 
 
 to deed to him before going away. The lifeless re 
 mains of the man had no sooner been buried, than the 
 property which would but little more than satisfy 
 their claims had been seized upon by the mortgagees, 
 rendering Mrs. Nichols herself homeless, other than 
 her distant mountain cottage, and penniless, but for a 
 paltry insurance policy that she held. There was 
 nothing left for Gerald. 
 
 And now the utter and despicable heartlessness of 
 the man became apparent. True, he had been hit 
 hard, and the proximity, nay the possibility even of 
 the blow having been undreamed of, had of course 
 made it still more severe. But he was at this time in 
 the very prime of young manhood with all its golden 
 opportunities, considered master of a profession ca 
 pable of yielding both fame and fortune, and through 
 the foresight and influence of his devoted aunt, mar 
 ried to an heiress as well. But the now pitiable posi 
 tion of that once wealthy aunt, all the years of patient, 
 loving care bestowed upon him by both his uncle and 
 herself, and her last good offices in his behalf, were, 
 all lost sight of by Gerald. He raged in a very tem 
 pest of disappointment and fury, with sympathy or 
 thought for none but self ; his conduct in this extrem 
 ity proving him to be, indeed, without a single re 
 deeming trait. 
 
 "After the villainous way in which I've been bun 
 coed" as he so brutally expressed himself to the 
 crushed and sorrowing woman upon learning of his 
 
THREE HAPPENINGS 349 
 
 loss, "you might be very thankful that the Almighty 
 didn't spare him to fall into my clutches; he'd have 
 paid dear for his damned rascality if he had, relation 
 or no relation ! As for Alice's fortune," he went on, 
 with a mocking laugh, in answer to the reminder that 
 it would compensate for the loss of his own, "do you 
 take me for such an infernal fool as not to have had 
 that too, in time? In the name of the Lord, woman, 
 what do you suppose I married the little simpleton 
 for? It's very evident you don't know your precious 
 nephew yet!" 
 
 And with no feeling of concern for the future of 
 his unhappy foster-mother, Gerald Harding had raced 
 back home, to make the life of his long-suffering wife 
 even more miserably wretched than it had been before, 
 
 It was during her husband's brief absence in Amer 
 ica, that the second event had occurred, the results of 
 which had proven for a time a veritable oasis in Alice 
 Harding's desert of existence. Now, although she 
 had not inherited the artistic talent of her mother, the 
 same deeply appreciative love of Art was hers, and 
 many had been the hours and occasions since her 
 marriage, in which her lonely, troubled heart, had 
 found solace and the most satisfying companionship, 
 in its uplifting, and to her, enrapturing environment. 
 
 One day at the Louvre her frequent haunt as 
 she sat, oblivious to her surroundings, entranced anew 
 before a masterpiece whose wonders and beauties she 
 had often before devoured, a couple, bearing both 
 
350 BY EARTHQUAKE AND FIRE 
 
 in manner and appearance all the unmistakable ear 
 marks of culture and refinement, in age a little on 
 the hither side of middle life, the man, uncommonly 
 handsome and distinguished looking, the woman, 
 plainer, had approached her; and with the natural 
 grace and punctilious deference of a Frenchman, 
 though evidently one of her own countrymen, the man 
 had addressed her thus. "I trust you will pardon our 
 intrusion upon your absorption, Madam" he had 
 quickly noted the wedding ring upon the ungloved 
 hand which held her catalogue "but that you are of 
 the same nationality as ourselves is apparent ; are you 
 not from Denver, Colorado, may I ask?" 
 
 "Formerly," replied Alice, with the unhesitating 
 frankness of a well-bred young woman meeting with 
 well-bred strangers; "but since my marriage, Paris 
 is my home. I was born and brought up in Denver, 
 however." 
 
 "We felt morally certain of it" ; now put in the 
 lady, with a pleased and satisfied air. "We have 
 noticed you here and at the Luxumbourg a number 
 of times, and you bear such a very striking resemblance 
 to a dear friend of many years ago at home a Mrs. 
 Clayton Nichols that we could no longer resist the 
 temptation to speak and inquire if you were not 
 related to her; a descendant, perhaps." 
 
 "My own, dear mother," answered the other feel 
 ingly; "and surely it is a treat and joy to meet any 
 old friends of hers. Whom have I the pleasure of 
 addressing?" she asked, with a cordial smile. 
 
THREE HAPPENINGS 351 
 
 The couple were even then presenting their cards, 
 and as they did so, the gentleman remarked, "Our 
 names are probably not familiar, for we have made 
 our home upon this side since before you were born; 
 but we knew your parents very well indeed, in those 
 long 1 past and exceedingly happy days when we were 
 all young folks together." 
 
 "Your names are by no means unfamiliar to me," 
 returned Alice, as she read the inscriptions on the 
 engraved cards. And now offering her hand in the 
 most friendly manner, she continued, "Nor are your 
 faces unfamiliar, either, although I could not exactly 
 place you at first. My dear mother always had 
 photos of you among those of her most dearly re 
 membered friends, and has often told me, Mr. Lind 
 say, of what a famous painter you had become. She 
 and Papa were both always very proud to claim 
 friendship with you." 
 
 "Their memories have always been as dear to me, 
 as well" ; replied our old friend Jack, with a gratified 
 smile at the flattering and welcome intelligence; for 
 he it was, and Hattie, his devoted sister. "But from 
 the tense in which you speak of them," he went on to 
 add, in a tone of eagerly interested questioning, "I 
 fear you have lost them." 
 
 "Yes, Mr. Lindsay," answered the lonely woman, 
 with even at that late date, an involuntary show of 
 emotion "it was my sad misfortune to have them 
 both taken from me six years ago, and under extreme 
 ly painful circumstances." 
 
352 BY EARTHQUAKE AND FIRE 
 
 "We can feel for you then," rejoined Miss Lind 
 say, tenderly, "for we have passed through a like be 
 reavement ourselves. Have you been long in Paris?" 
 she asked. "And who is it our happy privilege to 
 have met?" 
 
 "Mrs. Gerald Harding"; replied Alice. "I seem to 
 be without a card," she went on; vainly searching 
 through a richly jeweled hand-bag for her case, 
 while she spoke and as the man noted down the 
 address that she proceeded to give, she finished, "I 
 hope you will both come to see me very often, for I 
 feel that it is going to be such a perfect delight to 
 have you for my friends. I have made but few as 
 yet." 
 
 "Not the wife of the wonderful cartoonist, Mrs. 
 Harding?" asked the man, in almost incredulous and 
 seemingly unpleased surprise. 
 
 "The very same, Mr. Lindsay." And the young 
 woman smiled proudly at the great compliment paid 
 her husband. "You are certainly most kind to speak 
 of his work so flatteringly." 
 
 "Your husband is a very clever man, Mrs. Hard 
 ing"; returned the other, warmly. "We have known 
 him that is, by reputation," he explained "for a 
 considerable time." Then after a second's pause he 
 added, "and we had also heard much about a very 
 charming, young wife whom he married, something 
 over a year ago; was it not? But we had never 
 dreamed of meeting her, or of having this pleasure 
 
THREE HAPPENINGS 353 
 
 of finding in her the daughter of our dear old friends. 
 You are almost a perfect double of your beautiful 
 mother, Mrs. Harding," he could not restrain him 
 self from saying "and believe me, acquaintance, 
 friendship with you would be more than valued by 
 us, because of that resemblance, alone." 
 
 "And I shall be much pleased to have you become 
 more intimately acquainted with my husband," re 
 turned Alice. "I am sure it will be an agreeable sur 
 prise to him upon his return to find that we have met. 
 He is in America at present, but not for long. He 
 has grown such a very busy man of late, that I seem 
 to see not much of him, when at home; but of course 
 I am especially lonesome during his absence; so do 
 favor me with your company as much as possible, 
 won't you? Come and dine with me tomorrow; I 
 can't tell you the great happiness it will bring me." 
 
 This hearty invitation was accepted with becoming 
 alacrity, for the meeting with the young woman had 
 been as genuine a pleasure to the Lindsays, as to her 
 self. The memory of their by-gone friendship and 
 intimate association with Gertrude Warfield, had been 
 a sweet and cherished one to them both, through all 
 the passing years ; for in losing the girl of his choice, 
 this man had neither been rejected nor jilted, it will 
 be remembered. His case had been a disappointment, 
 pure and simple; hence there had been no cause or 
 room for resentment. Yet though a simple disappoint 
 ment, as we have said, the disappointment had been 
 
354 BY EARTHQUAKE AND FIRE 
 
 by no means a 'simple' one to Jack Lindsay. His 
 longing, constant heart, had been so completely cen 
 tered in his sister's fascinating friend, that his love, 
 though hopeless, had been undying; its indestructible 
 flame had burned so steadily on, that famous, wealthy, 
 handsome though he was, and much sought after as 
 he had therefore naturally been, the man was in con 
 sequence, still a bachelor. Hattie Lindsay, too, had 
 remained single; she was not of the marrying kind; 
 and between the brother and sister, a beautiful, com 
 pensating comradeship existed. 
 
 Now when the man stated to Mrs. Harding that he 
 had acquaintance with her 'clever' husband, knew him 
 'by reputation,' he could have put it yet stronger, 
 and added that that reputation, as he knew it, was an 
 unsavory one. His first words to his sister however, 
 when he had rejoined her in the famous gallery after 
 seeing that lady to her waiting carriage and spoken 
 also with an undisguised show of indignation were, 
 "Great Scott, Sis ! to think of Gertie's daughter being 
 the wife of that scalawag! Why, I can't reconcile 
 myself to the thought of it, at all !" 
 
 "So that's the Harding I've heard you and some of 
 our friends grill so unmercifully, is it?" exclaimed the 
 other. "I remember George Carter's saying that there 
 wasn't a vice but what he was addicted to, and that 
 he hadn't a solitary redeeming trait." 
 
 "If he has, I've never heard it exploited. As to 
 his vices, I believe there's one he hasn't attached him- 
 
THREE HAPPENINGS 
 
 355 
 
 self to, as yet, and that's drink, and so he has no 
 charity whatever, for a poor devil who is addicted to 
 it. To hear him denounce an excess in that direction, 
 one who didn't know, would imagine him, not simply a 
 saint, but a saint run mad." 
 
 ' 'Hopes to atone for sins he's inclined to by 
 damning those he has no mind to' ; I suppose." 
 
 "Very likely," nodded Jack. Then, "But where 
 under the Sun could she have met him? She's very 
 young, and he's been over here a long time." 
 
 "Didn't you notice what she said about him being 
 a nephew of their Aunt, Mrs. George Nichols, of 
 Chicago? queried the sister. "She probably made the 
 match. She always had an ungovernable passion for 
 that sort of thing, I know"; she continued. A bit 
 spitefully too, it must be admitted ; as though the rec 
 ollection yet rankled, of how, in the days that were 
 gone, she had been check-mated, repeatedly, by the 
 lady in question. 
 
 "Well, he probably managed to pull wool over her 
 eyes, too, then. He's a slick enough article to deceive 
 most any one. But however it happened, it's a cruel 
 shame, and I pity her from the very bottom of my 
 heart. Why it's notorious how he tyrannizes over 
 and neglects her, already. We must see all we can of 
 her, Sis," the man went on, sympathetically, "and try 
 to bring more or less of happiness into her life; for 
 it's precious little beside sadness that he'll put there. 
 I'm afraid we won't be very welcome acquaintances 
 
356 BY EARTHQUAKE AND FIRE 
 
 however, after he gets back, for he hates me worse 
 than poison, since I had him black-balled when he 
 tried to get into our guild. If I had known who his 
 wife was at the time though, Sis," he concluded, 
 soberly, "that she was related to her, I couldn't have 
 done it !" 
 
 "How very much alike they are" ; he mused, rather 
 than spoke. "The same glorious eyes, exquisite tint 
 ing, sunny hair, the same music in the voice, the same 
 sweet smile, the same irresistible charm of manner. 
 Sis," he burst out suddenly, "if I hear of any more 
 of his cuttings up, I shall be tempted to thrash the 
 hound within an inch of his life !" 
 
 Now the unexpected encounter at the Louvre, 
 seemed more a Providence than accident for Alice 
 Harding; for the great yearning of her heavy heart 
 at the time, had been for companionship ; while shortly, 
 the crying need of her life, was for friends. Disinter 
 ested, leal, and loving friends, just such as now came 
 to hand in these old-time family acquaintances; the 
 exceeding opportuneness of its happening stamping it 
 a God-send indeed, whose value to her proved fully 
 equal to the joy and comfort which it brought. 
 
 Following her informal dinner to them, Alice had 
 been carried off by her new-found friends to their 
 artistic home in the Champs Elysees, and had there 
 spent the happiest two weeks which she had known 
 since the few well remembered ones of her very early 
 married life. Upon arrival, her host had graciously 
 
THREE HAPPENINGS 357 
 
 shown her hung, sacred to himself, in his own private 
 sanctum the wonderful, life-size, life-like picture, for 
 which her beautiful mother had unknowingly posed 
 so many years before, and which had brought, first 
 fame and then fortune to the unknown young painter, 
 by discovering to him his latent capabilities. While 
 she listened, breathless with astonishment and deepest 
 interest, the lover-artist for the first time recounted 
 to another, all the sweetly-bitter details of its romantic 
 inspiration. 
 
 "It was a friendly, honorable rivalry, Mrs. Harding, 
 for the favor of the loveliest earth-angel ever 
 courted"; he told her at the last; "in which your 
 worthy father had the advantage of priority. Had it 
 not been for that, while I should then probably never 
 have become much known as an artist, I shall always 
 indulge the precious conceit that I would have known 
 the prouder, and far happier distinction, of having been 
 your father. You must look upon sister and me here 
 after," he continued, impressively, "in the light of 
 parents; and if ever in need of sympathy, advice, or 
 assistance of any sort, I want to feel that you will 
 come to us as freely and unhesitatingly as though that 
 sacred relationship did actually exist between us." And 
 gratefully indeed, had his most needy auditor promised 
 to think of and feel towards the couple thence-forth, 
 as the useful, good and true friends they fain would 
 be. 
 
 Full of life and fond of it although no longer young, 
 
358 BY EARTHQUAKE AND FIRE 
 
 the Lindsays had hosts of acquaintances, many of 
 whom were now bidden to meet their fair young 
 guest; and what with a constant succession of de 
 lightful entertainments at home, more or less of trip 
 ping about to places and scenes of interest before un 
 known to her, concerts and the opera, for being a 
 fine musician herself Alice was naturally a great lover 
 of music the two well filled weeks had flown by, with 
 that regrettable haste for which all of our most 
 precious, happiest seasons seem somehow to have such 
 a provoking knack, for ' Father Time is deaf to all 
 persuading; not a moment will he stay' and had 
 brought the friends to their last evening together; 
 Gerald being due to reach home on the morrow. 
 Friends who were to have come to them for a social 
 hour had been prevented at the last from keeping 
 the engagement; and not to miss a final occasion for 
 the charming visitor from whom they were prepared 
 to part with much regret, Jack had at once suggested 
 the theatre. 
 
 "There'll be no boxes to be had at this hour of 
 course," said he, "but we can probably pick up three 
 pretty decent parquette seats" ; so in the parquette the 
 willing trio had been content to settle. Then came 
 that third happening to which we have before alluded. 
 
 Now in accepting the gracious hospitality of her 
 host and hostess, Alice Harding had done so, wisely 
 determined, for the nonce, to rise above the depressing 
 emotions with which the disappointing past had bur- 
 
THREE HAPPENINGS 359 
 
 dened her heart, also the gloomy forebodings for the 
 future which oppressed, and to give herself up un 
 reservedly to the perfect and full enjoyment of the 
 happy present; for knowing the disastrous revelation 
 with its bitter disappointment in store for her absent 
 husband, and certain that it would be taken very hard, 
 his mood, upon returning, would be little conducive to 
 domestic happiness, she well knew. If, therefore, a 
 momentary shadow which involuntarily flitted across 
 the bright, young face, at thought of the nearness of 
 that return, was, perchance, caused by regret, who 
 could wonder or blame? 
 
 Her fresh, unsurfeited enjoyment of pleasure was 
 yet almost childish, in its whole-souled, outspoken 
 appreciation ; for having practically immolated youth 
 by marrying from the schoolroom, Alice had known 
 but little of its diversions, as yet, and upon this par 
 ticular evening, the transported young woman had 
 fairly beamed with happiness ; fascinated by every 
 feature of the long and splendid play, until, amid a 
 burst of thunderous applause, the curtain had gone 
 down before the last, short act. 
 
 In the contrasting stillness which followed, a con 
 versation, carried on between two young women 
 seated immediately in front of them, who had but 
 shortly before come in, and whose loud appearance 
 and frequent distracting laughter, had from the first 
 proclaimed them more anxious to be seen and heard 
 than to see and hear fell with painful distinctness 
 upon the ears of our little party. 
 
360 BY EARTHQUAKE AND FIRE 
 
 "Your shair ah-me as these pollyvous call 'em 
 will be back soon now, won't he?" asked the first 
 speaker. 
 
 "Which one?" inquired the other, innocently. 
 
 "O, come off now, Vi !" exclaimed her companion, 
 shortly. "Don't try ter make out yer such a charmer 
 that yer've got 'em by the dozen; yer know deuced 
 well I mean Harding. When's he due?" 
 
 "Tomorrow" ; was the brief and seemingly reluctant 
 reply. 
 
 "And when does the bunch git that big blow-out 
 and jambouree that he promised us before he went? 
 that full dress affair yer know ; collar and a pair of 
 socks," returned the other, with an insinuating laugh, 
 "I want ter git a yard er two of tarleton and a few 
 spangles ready ter shine in." 
 
 "Don't ask me when it's to be !" curtly. 
 
 "Why, haven't yer heard from 'im?" 
 
 "A postal when he landed." 
 
 "Well who shall I ask then? Gramont, perhaps"; 
 retorted the first speaker, maliciously ; evidently piqued 
 at her companion's uncommunicativeness. "She's 
 better posted on the subject than you are any way, I 
 guess," she went on. "We all know he's makin' a 
 dead set for Mmle. Julie; had her meet him at Calais 
 and go up to Liverpool to see 'im off. Ha! ha! didn't 
 let you know about that nice little arrangement, I 
 s'pose? O, you'll soon be a back number, Vi; don't 
 fool yerself ; he'll be solid with her now he's got the 
 
THREE HAPPENINGS 361 
 
 dough; the Johnnies all have ter hand it out ter her 
 in good big chunks, I can tell yer! He'd stick to 
 'is own countrywomen though if he'd a grain of sense 
 in his empty head, fer it was a Frenchy come after 
 me and played the deuce with 'im; bled 'im dry, then 
 swiped 'is dimonds an' lit out. That was before you 
 was fool enough ter throw yerself away on 'im." 
 
 "The cat !" hissed her listener, angrily. 
 
 "Oh, 'taint no use callin' the girl names, Vi, er let- 
 tin' yer angry passions rise, either"; returned the 
 other, with a harsh, unsympathetic laugh. "Tempers 
 aint becomin' ter your peculiar style o' beauty, an' 
 they play hell with the digestion, besides. There's 
 reason enough though, I guess" ; she resumed after a 
 second's pause; "fer I had a hunch that Vd promised 
 'er the finest set er sables that money can buy when 
 'e gits back." 
 
 "Let him dare, the beast," now broke in the other, 
 excitedly, and there'll be a sizzler in this old Sodom! 
 You just keep your ears peeled for a good big squeal 
 from me if he does, Ol; and I'll put his wife wise at 
 a two-forty pace, too. Maybe you think revenge ain't 
 sweet to Violet Hutchinson? Well if it ain't sweet, 
 it ain't exactly zvormzvood and gall, either." 
 
 "Ever seen the lady, Vi?" 
 
 "Yes." 
 
 "Where?" 
 
 "She come into the studio for a bit of chat with 
 her liege lord and master one day, months ago" ; re- 
 
362 BY EARTHQUAKE AND FIRE 
 
 plied the other ; now laughing merrily at the recol 
 lection. "But trust Gerry to nip a nice, little, wifely 
 habit like that in the bud ; too inconvenient, you know. 
 She never come again ; oh, no, you bet she didn't !" 
 chuckled the girl. 
 
 "What's she like?" 
 
 "Gee, Ol, but she's a dream! and swell f Well I 
 should snicker ! She's a born aristocrat, you could see 
 that at a glance, but just as sweet and lovely as they 
 make 'em; and the man who wouldn't be true to her, 
 ought to be tarred and feathered ; if / do say it ! Why 
 Ol, I felt like a three-cent piece beside her, and a 
 counterfeit at that"; the girl went on; with a pitiful 
 sigh of unmistakable, if perhaps, only momentary re 
 gret. Then continued, "She's a dear little noodle 
 though, Gerry says; swallows down whole any kind 
 of a spiel he's a mind to hand out, and thinks he's 
 killing himself with overwork! Oh, law-see, ain't it 
 rich!" she finished; shaking with laughter, in which 
 her companion boisterously joined. 
 
 "Did it stump Gerry when she dropped in on yer?" 
 
 "Well, he's got the cheek of the devil, you know 
 that, Ol; but he really did seem to turn just a shade 
 paler around the gills for about the thirty-secondth 
 part of a second." 
 
 "Introduce yer?" 
 
 "Introduce me? Don't try to be funny, Ol"; re 
 turned the other, impatiently. 
 
 "Anything a doin' at the time, Vi?" now asked her 
 
THREE HAPPENINGS 363 
 
 companion, with still greater interest; princking her 
 ears for some possibly racy details to enjoy. 
 
 "O, nothing much, fortunately; I was sprawled out 
 in a neglige, puffing " 
 
 "And Gerry?" put in the other quickly. 
 
 "Well, he was er feasting his eyes upon my 
 many charms, as usual" ; drawled the girl, reflectively. 
 "At a respectable distance, of course," she explained; 
 "but with that lovesick, dying-calf sort of a look that 
 the critter always puts into his innocent, soulful eyes, 
 when he wants to be real melting." Adding, with a 
 coarse laugh, "you've been there, Ol; you know how 
 it is yourself." 
 
 The short, disgusting conversation, which from 
 abundance of material might no doubt have been con 
 tinued much longer, was here cut short by a sudden 
 unusual stirring in the row behind, and a man's ex 
 cited though smothered "Great Scott, Sis! she's 
 fainted! Let's get her out of here quick!" And 
 taking their unconscious young guest in his arms as 
 though she had been a child, Jack Lindsay, flushed 
 with indignation, and followed by his equally alarmed 
 and angry sister, began making a hasty exit. 
 
 Turning at the sound of the unusual commotion be 
 hind them, the chattering women whose incriminat 
 ing conversation had been responsible for it caught 
 sight of the closed eyes, and the bloodless face hang 
 ing limply to one side. 
 
 "Good Lord, Ol!" exclaimed the reputed model of 
 
364 BY EARTHQUAKE AND FIRE 
 
 the studio; with a horrified and truly remorseful 
 look upon her young, and still handsome, though hard 
 ened face it's her, and she must have heard! The 
 dose is just what Gerry deserves, but so help me God ! 
 Fd rather have had my tongue pulled out by the roots, 
 than to hurt her so, if I'd only known !" 
 
 "It is too bad, poor thing"; allowed the older 
 woman; with but little show of pity, however. Add 
 ing philosophically, "but there's no use cryin' over 
 spilt milk, Vi. There'll be the devil to pay when Gerry 
 gits home, that's a cinch ! I hope she goes fer 'im, 
 shovel an' tongs. You've cooked your goose with 'im 
 though, all right, Vi, so you'd better git a wiggle on, 
 an' begin a hustlin' for another job. Who's that crazy 
 guy a rubberin' at, I wonder?" she finished; as her 
 roving eye lighted upon some object ahead. 
 
 "Which one?" asked her companion, straightening 
 up to look. 
 
 "Why that cracked lookin' old billiard ball down 
 there in front" ; sneered the other, as the curtain went 
 up. 
 
 Stunned by the undreamed-of revelation for she 
 had never once suspected what manner of man he 
 really was Alice Harding had seen the base, loath 
 some character of her husband laid bare before her in 
 the foregoing, low conversation, every word of which 
 had been as a poisoned dart, piercing her already bur 
 dened heart with deadly aim ; until her outraged feel- 
 irgs could bear no more and she had found a merciful 
 
THREE HAPPENINGS 365 
 
 relief for a time in fainting. It was long before she 
 came to, but when she did, it was to open her eyes 
 upon the familiar surroundings of home, and to find 
 the faithful friends, now so much needed, at her side; 
 for an emergency calling for just the very advice, 
 sympathy and assistance which Jack Lindsay had of 
 fered to her such a short two weeks before, had arisen 
 all too soon. 
 
 Now, a heart deep wounded, feels too much pain to 
 feel anger, 'tis said; and surely that of this young 
 wife had been smitten to the core. There seemed 
 nothing vindictive or vengeful in her feelings towards 
 her husband, however. It might have been that she 
 was too much crushed for that; for to her indignant 
 friends, her calm resignment under such excessive 
 provocation seemed hardly natural, even in one of her 
 most sweet and forgiving disposition. 
 
 "I shall always blame myself for your suffering, 
 Mrs. Harding" ; Jack told her regretfully, when she 
 had been revived and gained back a little of her 
 wonted strength. "Only for this unfortunate evening 
 which was my suggestion, you might never have 
 learned these bitter truths ; for that they are truths, 
 I am unhappily unable to deny" ; he was forced to 
 admit, in answer to her questionings as to his knowl 
 edge of her husband's habits. 
 
 "They are inexpressibly bitter truths and sad, it is 
 true, Mr. Lindsay," was the quiet reply; "and yet I 
 feel that my enlightenment, which would no doubt 
 
366 BY EARTHQUAKE AND FIRE 
 
 have come at some time, is most opportune just now, 
 for before it, I had decided upon a course of action in a 
 certain very important matter, which, unadvised, I 
 might even yet have carried out ; but it is possible that 
 I may change my mind regarding it after hearing your 
 opinions, for which I am now going to ask. You 
 don't know what a relief and comfort it is to me to 
 have friends in whom to confide and ask advice of; 
 what would I do without them now? I have some 
 means, you know," she went on, "and ever since we 
 were married, my husband has been urging me tc 
 turn my affairs over to him to take care of for me, 
 He thinks that is the way a wife should do, and so da 
 I. It was the way Mamma did, and but that Auntie 
 has continually advised delay, I should have consented 
 long ago. Perhaps Gerald would have loved me more 
 and been different, if I had" ; she put in reproachfully ; 
 with a sudden new quiver in the voice that had nol 
 been there before. "I had made up my mind to dc 
 this upon his return, though," she continued after a 
 pause, her tones gradually steadying as she spoke, 
 "What do you both think about the plan? Please tell 
 me." 
 
 "Turn your fortune over to that / Pardon me, 
 Mrs. Harding"; apologized her friend, for his vehe 
 mence was very pronounced, while with great effort 
 he refrained himself from the scathing denunciation 
 of the man which intense indignation had forced tc 
 his lips. "I'll try not to forget that I'm speaking oi 
 
THREE HAPPENINGS , 367 
 
 your husband. But since you ask for our advice, and 
 I am very sure my sister's opinion coincides with my 
 own/' an emphatic nod of approval from Miss Lind 
 say "you must not think of such a thing. Why, it 
 would be a practical signing of your death warrant 
 to give your fortune into the keeping of a man like 
 him." 
 
 "But I think perhaps my husband would appreciate 
 it very much now, Mr. Lindsay," the woman replied, 
 "and it might be the means of winning him back to 
 better ways, you know." 
 
 "Never, Mrs. Harding!" protested Jack hotly; hur 
 rying on, "the man who could be won back to better 
 ways by such a means as that, couldn't be won back 
 at all ! If I may be pardoned an unintentional Hiber- 
 nacism at such a time" ; he put in quickly. 
 
 "A part of it at least, then" ; persisted the other. 
 
 "Not a penny, Mrs. Harding !" 
 
 "But you don't know my husband, Mr. Lindsay"; 
 Alice now ventured, and evidently voicing the confi 
 dence she was about to give with great reluctance. 
 "Our life together would surely be most unhappy if I 
 did not; and beside, there are reasons." 
 
 "I can conceive of no good reason for such a course, 
 Mrs. Harding." There was now a tinge of real im 
 patience in the tones of her friendly adviser. "While 
 as for your life being unhappy," he went on, "God 
 knows he's made it that already! My advice to you 
 is to leave the man at once! he's proven himself 
 utterly unworthy of you!" 
 
368 BY EARTHQUAKE AND FIRE 
 
 "I could never do that, Mr. Lindsay"; at once put 
 in the wronged wife, with a quiet dignity of manner 
 always present, but which the unhappy experience of 
 the evening seemed to have accentuated and made 
 more noticeable; plainly showing the suggestion to be 
 an altogether objectionable one. "I could never do 
 that!" she repeated. "Separation, divorce, are things 
 unknown in my family; considered a disgrace, even. 
 'Until death us do part/ has been the invariable prac 
 tice upon both sides of the house; and I could never 
 bring myself to be its first member to place a stigma 
 upon it; a blot upon its unsullied escutcheon, by re 
 pudiating the marriage contract/' 
 
 "Nor do / advocate such a proceeding, ordinarily, 
 Mrs. Harding"; the man hastened to affirm "but 
 'where the contract exists it involves obligation, to 
 both husband and wife in an equal relation/ you 
 know," he continued. "You must not lose sight of 
 that fact ; and his outrageous disregard of it, has given 
 you the means of freedom." 
 
 "Which I do not want, Mr. Lindsay; I shall never 
 leave my husband," came the quick reply, with a 
 gentle positiveness which brooked of no further argu 
 ment upon the subject. "And as for my fortune," 
 she resumed, "he must have the half of it then, out 
 right, since I may not entrust the whole of it to his 
 keeping; and all things considered, I believe, with 
 you, that such a course would not be wise now. Please 
 do not think me unnecessarily obdurate, Mr. Lindsay, 
 
THREE HAPPENINGS 369 
 
 or that I do not appreciate your advice"; she con 
 tinued, with a sweet appealing ; "but, you see, there are 
 things which you do not know." 
 
 "And which you cannot tell me, Mrs. Harding?" 
 queried the man; not for the satisfaction of an idle 
 curiosity, but from a sincere desire to save their un 
 wise young friend from herself, as appeared necessary. 
 
 An interval of silence now followed ; Alice, the 
 meanwhile, debating within herself as to whether the 
 confiding of his unfortunate secret to these trust 
 worthy friends, in whose keeping she well knew it 
 would remain inviolate, would indeed be an act of 
 criminal disloyalty to her deceased uncle. "Gerald, 
 in his anger, will no doubt blurt it out, anyway," she 
 reasoned, from her knowledge of her husband's dis 
 position, "and it might be even better that they should 
 hear it from me first." 
 
 "You will excuse my hesitation I hope, dear 
 friends," she at length apologized. "It was not from 
 any lack of confidence, I assure you, but because those 
 reasons involved the good name of another. My hus 
 band's fortune has been lost through unprofitable in 
 vestments. Uncle George, one of the dearest and 
 noblest of men that ever lived, has had the care of it, 
 you know, and a letter received from Aunt Alice since 
 Gerald sailed, tells me that it is all gone. It will be a 
 dreadful blow to him, of course, when he learns the 
 shocking truth; so you see now that I couldn't think 
 of keeping all of mine under such circumstances ; and 
 
370 BY EARTHQUAKE AND FIRE 
 
 I hope you will both approve of my dividing with 
 him. It will not be quite an even division, either, for 
 after giving to him the $100,000 which has been lost, 
 thanks to Uncle George's management, I shall have 
 quite some more than that left; the 'lion's share,' you 
 see"; she added, with a faint, sweet smile.' 
 
 "Of course, it is not for us to disapprove, or object 
 to such an unselfish arrangement, or even try to fur 
 ther dissuade you from it Mrs. Harding"; assented 
 Jack, although reluctantly. "All we can do is to hope 
 that it may be appreciated as you seem to think it will, 
 and as it certainly should be." 
 
 "I believe it will, Mr. Lindsay," replied the woman, 
 hopefully; "but in any case, I shall at least have the 
 satisfaction and happiness of doing what I feel to be 
 my duty." And there followed the mental query, 
 "Was it not indeed for this very duty that I came unto 
 this hour?" 
 
CHAPTER IX. 
 
 THE MILLS OF GOD TRANSFERRED AFFECTIONS. 
 
 " 'Because judgment again&t an evil work is 
 not speedily pronounced, therefore the hearts 
 of the sons of men are fully set in them to do 
 evil.' " 
 
 Since the lofty virtues of appreciation and gratitude 
 are not inherent in men of his type, it will be no sur 
 prise to the reader to learn that the generosity of bis 
 wife, splendid enough in any worthy case but almost 
 without parallel in such an one as his, awakened 
 neither of these emotions in the breast of Gerald 
 Harding. That he accepted the gift goes without say 
 ing, for the slogan of his unmanly class has ever been, 
 'get all you can from a wife.' And if the whole truth 
 must be told, even this voluntary division of her prop 
 erty in his interest, was far from satisfying; the abso 
 lute control of the whole being what he had always 
 wished for, had long been urging, and had planned to 
 demand from Alice now, as "but a proper offset for 
 the thievish way in which your villainous uncle has 
 buncoed me out of my own"; as he was not slow to 
 wound afresh by telling her. For Gerald had reached 
 home in an exceedingly ugly mood, and his wife's 
 show of real determination in opposing his wishes in 
 the matter, was nothing calculated to soothe the ruf 
 fled feelings of the man. 
 
372 BY EARTHQUAKE AND FIRE 
 
 At length, however, finding both persuasion and 
 demand unavailing, for Alice, to her credit be it 
 said, had remained firm though sweet he had un 
 graciously consented to accept the proposed settle 
 ment, and then, as might have been foreseen, at once 
 set about having the time of his life. 
 
 What with the income from his profession now 
 quite large and his wife's munificence, there was at 
 this time considerable of money to burn, and like all 
 prodigals, Gerald Harding lacked not for friends ( ?) 
 to help throw this money to the flames. Conflagra 
 tions of the sort thus produced, could not of course 
 burn within the pure and sacred precincts of home, 
 and soon it came to be that but very little of the man's 
 leisure time was spent there. 
 
 Details are not needed to convince us that it was 
 now a sorry time for Alice Harding. There was the 
 loneliness to be borne, and even more sickening still, 
 there was the continual revolt of her intensely high- 
 minded, truthful nature, against the oft-times puerile 
 and well-known lying excuses of her husband for his 
 absences and neglect. For he was in ignorance of 
 her knowledge of his true character and mode of life, 
 so cruelly thrust upon her on that fatal evening. She 
 could not bring herself to tell him ; she lacked the 
 heart, because sensible of an utter lack of manhood 
 in him to which she might appeal. "What good 
 would it do?" she mused dejectedly. "He would but 
 find some new way to deceive me." For the last lin- 
 
THE MILLS OF GOD 373 
 
 gering ray of hope for a change of heart in her erring 
 husband had vanished, when she saw how unthank- 
 fully her gift had been received; and she was forced 
 to the sorry conclusion that she must resign herself 
 to the unhappy fate of an unloved wife. 
 
 It was during these early, bitter days of dispelled 
 illusion, that Alice Harding learned the exceeding 
 sweetness of true friendship. 'Faithful friends are 
 hard to find,' writes one ; but the value of such as now 
 revealed to her in Hattie and Jack Lindsay, she found 
 to be beyond computing. Knowing her great need 
 of loving sympathy and companionship, these two, im 
 pelled alike by devotion to a cherished memory and 
 admiration for herself, became a stay and support 
 which not even the unpardonable boorishness of her 
 husband between whom and they, as we have learned, 
 there was no love lost could drive from her. 
 
 This boorishness he had first manifested upon the 
 occasion of their call to inquire after the health of his 
 wife, on the day following his arrival home. Out of 
 sorts with the world in general at this time, and Alice 
 in particular, and agig with delight at having an op 
 portunity to rap the man whom he was pleased to look 
 upon as an enemy, Gerald had acknowledged his wife's 
 introduction to Mr. Lindsay with a very formal hand 
 shake, accompanied by a cold, "I've had the pleasure 
 of meeting the gentleman before" ; then coarsely added, 
 "did you know that he was stuck on your mother 
 once? But Aunt Alice was too smart for him and 
 knocked his little game silly." 
 
374 BY EARTHQUAKE AND FIRK 
 
 The despicable taunt had been as a dagger-thrust 
 to Jack Lindsay, and the impulse to collar the man 
 then and there a hard one to resist ; but consideration 
 for the mortified wife had of course made this neces 
 sary, and he had deigned no reply. Alice had apolo 
 gized for it afterward on the plea that her husband 
 was very tired and not feeling well; but the occur 
 rence had effectually shattered the pleasant dream she 
 began indulging at the first meeting with her new 
 found friends, that they four might form a com 
 panionable quartette; and the realization that this 
 hope, also, must prove futile, added yet another to her 
 already long list of disappointments. 
 
 With much the same ardor with which a disap 
 pointed soul oft flings itself into religion, the unhappy 
 woman now flung herself into the prospect of ap 
 proaching maternity; months distant it was true, yet 
 engrossing and alluring, since the knowledge cf its 
 certainty gave rise to a new hope within her. "Surely 
 fatherhood will bring my husband to himself, prove 
 his salvation, and yet bring happiness to my life" ; was 
 the sustaining belief upon which she now allowed her 
 self to feed. But 'a silk purse was never yet made 
 out of a sow's ear/ and the coming of a little daugh 
 ter, which had been such a longed for joy to the young 
 mother even though she must risk her life to bear it, 
 awakened no parental love in the man; who turned 
 away as might an Oriental, when told as to its sex, 
 grumbling because he could not have had a son. While 
 
THE MILLS OF GOD 375 
 
 it's going, which had helped the bereaved mother- 
 practically alone in her grief 'to understand many 
 things/ seemed also to make but slight, if any im 
 pression upon him. 
 
 Little Gertrude as she would have been called 
 came into the world such a frail bit of humanity, that 
 the tiny spark of life animating her feeble frame 
 was soon snuffed out. That the little one who had 
 come into their life as babies always do into the lives 
 of their parents, 'to teach them the way to love, tell 
 them the way to live, and show them the way to die/ 
 had been placed on High as a magnet to draw them to 
 Heaven, the sorrowing mother was not slow to be 
 lieve; for 'even in the darkest night of death, hope 
 sees a star, and listening love can hear the rustle of a 
 wing/ And sweetly obedient to the heavenly vision, 
 she strove to pass submissively under the afflicting 
 rod, and thenceforth to set her affections more fully 
 upon things above. And He who had both given and 
 taken away, had also tempered the wind, in the 
 blessed companionship of her parents' one time 
 friends; without whom, her life in this trying epoch 
 would indeed have been a 'blank, arid Sahara/ For 
 to his habitual coldness of demeanor, Gerald had now 
 added the habit of frequently absenting himself from 
 home for days at a time, without deigning either ex 
 planation or excuse for his absences. 
 
 "If it had only been a boy," was a delusion the dis 
 appointed woman then chose to hug to her bosom, re- 
 
376 BY EARTHQUAKE AND FIRE 
 
 garding her offspring, "Gerald would have been satis 
 fied, and all would have been different and as I hoped." 
 But when, less than two years later, a son and heir 
 had been born to the couple, its coming also failed of 
 the desired result, for the man was a natural pervert, 
 lacking utterly in even the instincts of father-hood; 
 hence, there was no reformation. 
 
 For Alice, however, the coming of her child at once 
 furnished an object upon which to lavish the pent up 
 store of affection in her intensely loving nature. 
 'Home cures are surest for home cares'; and in the 
 welcome delights and responsibilities of mother-hood, 
 was found in large measure a panacea for her heart's 
 ills. And when the little one had been with them a 
 few months, hope for a betterment in her domestic 
 affairs sprang up and again ran high; for Gerald, 
 like many another derelict having been brought very 
 near to the gates of death by indulgence in the pace 
 that kills, seemed to have been brought also to him 
 self by the visitation; and during a long period of 
 convalescence which followed, one of his old time 
 waves of contrition had swept over the man, filling 
 him with the deepest, most bitter regret for his wicked 
 ways, and the sorrow and unhappiness which these 
 had entailed upon his devoted and forgiving young 
 wife. For the first time, too, he now began to note 
 the irresistibly cunning ways of his offspring, and to 
 look with fatherly pride upon the budding intelligence 
 of the beautiful boy, now arriving at an interesting 
 
THE MILLS OF GOD 377 
 
 and enjoyable age. As he talked over the little one's 
 future with its equally proud mother, laying plans 
 both affectionately and wisely for the welfare and up 
 bringing of their son, no one, least of all the entranced 
 wife, could have doubted the genuineness of his con 
 version and sincerity of his expressed good intentions. 
 
 "We will leave Paris, dearie, for the sake of our 
 precious child," he proposed to her earnestly, "and 
 never with my permission shall he set foot upon its 
 sin-cursed pavements, from whence the blood of count 
 less pure-minded, clean-lived youths cry to Heaven 
 for vengeance; would to God / had never known its 
 damnable fascinations!" he was a glib, impressive 
 talker, was Gerald. "We will go back home, sweet 
 heart, and settle down to the pure, healthful and in 
 spiring delights of life in some quiet, peaceful spot, 
 away from the distractions and temptations of a city; 
 and there, unknown, among strangers, beginning life 
 afresh, will learn to love each other anew and better, 
 while by precept and example we train our darling 
 boy up in the way he should go." 
 
 Over-joyed at the change which illness had wrought 
 in her husband, confident beyond doubting, of happi 
 ness in store thence-forth, delighted at the thought 
 of his removal from associates and associations to 
 whose influence alone she attributed his downfall, and 
 impatient to leave the city which had so effectually 
 shattered her high hopes, Alice Harding lost no time 
 in arranging for their return to America ; and as soon 
 
378 BY EARTHQUAKE AND FIRE 
 
 as the penitent convalescent had gained enough of 
 strength to undertake the most easy and comfortable 
 of traveling with comparative safety, the united, happy 
 little family set sail for home. 
 
 In one of the most charming spots to be found in 
 that artist's paradise of the Empire State, the pictur 
 esque country of Ulster, none too far from the great 
 City for easy visits to its many and varied attractions 
 as fancy should occasionally lead them, a gem of a 
 home and small estate the purchase of the wife 
 were secured; in which, with seemingly far brighter 
 prospects for happiness than had before shone over 
 them, among strangers, as the husband had wished, 
 Alice and Gerald Harding entered upon what surely 
 gave rich promise of proving a second, and much more 
 lasting honeymoon. 
 
 But ours has grown to be such a small world, that 
 to run away from one's name, good or bad, lose one's 
 identity, has become a practical impossibility; and 
 even under suburban life in strange parts, the couple 
 could not long remain unknown. Although no whis 
 per of the gossip reached their ears, the story of wrong 
 doing which had previously so marred their married 
 life, soon leaked out; their nearest neighbor being a 
 lady who, during several years of Gerald's career in 
 Paris, had been a student in its Latin Quarter. And 
 while the two had never met, had yet heard much of 
 his disgraceful escapades, and shameful treatment and 
 neglect of his beautiful, young wife; the subject being 
 
THE MILLS OF GOD 379 
 
 common gossip among the fraternity. Not being slow 
 to disseminate her knowledge, the pale, wasted, but 
 now repentant husband became vested with a sort of 
 romantic interest for many, at least of the feminine 
 portion of the community; while sweet Alice was 
 voted 'a darling; an angel'; and the devoted pair be 
 came, in a way, both notorious and popular at once. 
 
 With enough of congenial company among a few 
 easily accessible neighbors of the same class of com 
 parative leisure as themselves, and who, like them 
 selves, had chosen to eschew the bustle and glamour 
 of city life for the more restful, uplifting contempla 
 tion of green hills and sylvan dells, the glorious pano 
 rama of wooded mountains, deep, wild ravines and 
 gorgeous sunsets, and the silvery music of babbling 
 brooks and tinkling cow-bells, even though months 
 were required to bring back, as before, the spent 
 strength of the convalescent, yet their ideal life to 
 gether during that first Spring and Summer in their 
 native land, was one of unbroken and incomparable 
 delight. Could it but have lasted ! 
 
 But alas ! a full return of health and vigor, brought 
 with it also a fever for the old manner of existence; 
 and Gerald's thoughts and longings began turning 
 city-ward, once more. The simplicity and quietude 
 of the country began to pall ; he became restless, fidge 
 ty, irritable; took to making frequent trips to the 
 Metropolis alone; and at length suggested quite 
 forcibly, as was his wont that they remove thither 
 
380 BY EARTHQUAKE AND FIRE 
 
 for the Winter. Accordingly, in the early Autumn, 
 loath as Alice felt to leave the spot made inexpressi 
 bly dear to her because of the happy experiences of 
 her married life the first worth calling such which 
 had come to her there, the change was made. A pretty 
 apartment was taken in which to live, and an adjoin 
 ing suite also engaged and fitted up as a studio, in 
 which for a time, the husband as promised carried 
 on the duties of his profession ; and despite the knowl 
 edge and unfavorable opinion of large cities in gen 
 eral, which her Parisian experience had thrust upon 
 her, Alice Harding bravely persisted in hoping the 
 best as to her husband's conduct, and refused to enter 
 tain the uneasy fears which would at times arise like 
 spectres to disturb and alarm her. "New York is not 
 Paris," she would remind herself, encouragingly, "and 
 surely such gross wickedness cannot prevail here. 
 Beside, he has a son to love and live for now, and he 
 is at home with us always." 
 
 New York, however, is no more a stainless Eden 
 than is Paris or any other large city ; and the particu 
 lar sin to which one may have become addicted, can 
 find one out as easily and surely there, and furnish 
 probably equal opportunities for its indulgence. 
 
 And Gerald did not long remain 'at home always' 
 either. It was not many weeks before he found 'the 
 frequent temptation to leave my work and run to the 
 nursery for a frolic with the kid, too distracting'; 
 so he told his wife, as prolific in plausible excuses 
 
THE MILLS OF GOD 381 
 
 as ever, we see. 'And then the location was not prov 
 ing convenient enough; he must get a studio further 
 down town.' 
 
 Which he did, of course, and was soon in the very 
 same toils as on the other side; and from his unrea 
 soning excesses, seemingly trying to make up for lost 
 time. The 'new leaf turned over but those few 
 months before had flown back; all the professions of 
 repentance, the good resolutions, the extravagant 
 promises of better doing, all were forgotten. Poor 
 Gerald ! Surely he was of his Father, the Devil ; for 
 
 'When the Devil got sick, the Devil a saint would be; 
 When the Devil got well, the devil a saint was he/ 
 
 Poor Gerald? Yes, and poorer Alice; in whose 
 long-suffering heart, hope had been raised but to be 
 crushed to earth, and, unlike Truth, never to rise again. 
 For after this backsliding, the man's heart became 
 hardened, like unto Pharaoh's. He seemed as if in 
 spired with an ambition to shine as a profligate, and 
 while he began curtailing his income by neglecting his 
 profession, his means, much of which had been squan 
 dered before his illness, flew like the wind. Upon the 
 rare occasions of his visits home, which were seldom 
 made for any other purpose than the making of inso 
 lent demands upon his wife for money he was fre 
 quently abusive, and even cruel. 
 
 Thus did a six months of renewed city life drag 
 wearily by; and with the return of Spring, Alice, 
 
382 BY EARTHQUAKE AND FIRE 
 
 anxious yet to save her recreant husband if possible, 
 pleaded with him earnestly and tearfully, to return 
 with her and the child to their country seat, and re 
 sume the sweet life of the year before. But all such 
 entreaties were unavailing. "I will never bury myself 
 in that infernally stupid hole again"; declared the 
 man, vehemently. "I may run up for a Sunday now 
 and then, but that's all you need expect. The city's 
 no place for you and the kid though, during the Sum 
 mer; I shall probably not be here much of the time 
 myself and the sooner you and he light out, the better 
 I'll be pleased"; he concluded impudently. 
 
 And discouraged, hopeless, wearied also with the 
 struggle, reluctant though she was to leave her wilfully 
 weak spouse so entirely to his own devices, yet obliged 
 to take her child to the fresh, pure air for which he now 
 pined, this sweet, young wife and mother was now 
 compelled to return to her former happy home alone. 
 
 It is under the stress of such and similar provoca 
 tion, that many a well-intentioned one, disheartened, 
 lonely, desperate, has sought relief by yielding to the 
 temptation to slip her moorings, and begin to drift; 
 for, given a woman young or of engaging personality, 
 opportunities are nowhere lacking for the pursuance of 
 such a course. While others, availing themselves of 
 the law's intervention, legitimately cast aside the irk 
 some bonds. But this wife was incapable of the one 
 course, disinclined to the other. 
 
 Could a royal welcome have sufficed to bring glad- 
 
THE MILLS OF GOD 383 
 
 ness to a heart, however, then should that of Alice 
 Harding been full to overoflwing; for during the pre 
 vious sojourn , of the little family in the community, 
 their inviting home had been a favorite gathering 
 place, and its charming mistress had endeared herself 
 to all; and as she came among them once more with 
 out her husband, and as was well known, despondent, 
 heart sick, for rumors of the life he was again lead 
 ing her had floated in to them from time to time, 
 their sympathy, necessarily unexpressed in words, 
 though it was, was none the less deep and lively ; find 
 ing vent in constant delicate attentions and mutual 
 plannings for her entertainment, which should make 
 the unwholesome seclusion in which she would fain 
 have buried herself, impossible. 
 
 And the Lindsays, too, had come over as promised, 
 that Summer, to see Jack's little namesake, and to re 
 joice with their young friends in their continued hap 
 piness. For Alice had written the most glowing ac 
 counts for a while after their return, as to the perma 
 nence of the change of heart which they had known 
 to have taken place in her husband before leaving 
 Paris ; which, after his fall from grace, she had never 
 contradicted. It was a sad enough enlightenment for 
 them when they arrived, to learn the true state of 
 affairs. Yet their visit seemed to have been as provi 
 dentially timed as was that first meeting with their 
 needy friend, for during their stay, the poor young 
 mother was again called to pass through deep waters ; 
 
384 BY EARTHQUAKE AND FIRE 
 
 the one joy and comfort of life, in whom her riven 
 heart was naturally altogether centered, her baby 
 boy, now in his critical second Summer, being sudden 
 ly taken from her during an unbearable spell of ex 
 ceeding sultry August weather. And in her awful 
 sorrow this second time, the bereaved mother was 
 literally weeping alone, for the husband and father, 
 who had favored them with his company but once 
 during the entire season, was now off with a mixed 
 party of gay companions, autoing through Europe. 
 
 "I wish to the Lord he'd fall over some precipice 
 and break his good-for-nothing neck"! was Hattie 
 Lindsay's angry comment to her brother she was 
 given to somewhat forcible expressions when filled 
 with righteous indignation on any subject, when the 
 man's whereabouts was at length learned, that the 
 news of his bereavement might be made known to 
 him. 
 
 "If wishing would bring it to pass, Sis, I'd add a 
 hearty 'Amen' ! to that," replied her brother. "It would 
 be useless though, I suppose, for you know a kind 
 Providence is said to watch over children and drunken 
 men; and from what I hear, the reprobate's very 
 often in that condition, now-a-days. I can't under 
 stand, though, for the life of me, why such a worth 
 less cuss as he, is allowed to go on living. It gets 
 me" I 
 
 "Nor I, either"; echoed his sister, disgustedly. 
 "Now if he was out of the way and Alice free, we 
 
THE MILLS OF GOD 385 
 
 could probably do something with and for her" they 
 had both been urging a separation ever since coming 
 over "but as long as he lives and that worthless 
 kind never die, there'll be no talking sense or rea 
 son to her, I'm afraid. It's all 'my duty to my hus 
 band'! she scoffed, "but no thought about giving her 
 innocent children such a father. I'm beginning to 
 lose all patience with her, Jack ! Then, too, it's such a 
 gross outrage that her young life should be so wasted. 
 I believe in wifely duty up to a reasonable point as 
 much as any living soul does; but you'd never catch 
 me holding on and trying to save such a miserable 
 apology for a man as he is, if I was married which, 
 thank Heaven, I'm not! and I'm old enough to be 
 her mother, too." 
 
 Could the Lindsays have taken their young friend 
 home with them that Fall, they would have returned 
 much happier and far better pleased with her than was 
 the case. But Paris now held scant charm for Alice 
 Harding, its memories being little more than a hid 
 eous nightmare; and their pressing invitation, there 
 fore, would have held but slight temptation, even had 
 not both inclination and an abnormal sense of duty, 
 impelled her to remain near to a little flower-covered 
 mound in the quiet country churchyard; whose soft 
 ening influence, as they should mingle their tears 
 over it upon his home-coming, would at last, she 
 believed, prove her husband's saviour. She was there 
 fore deaf to all persuading; so in the company of a 
 
386 BY EARTHQUAKE AND FIRE 
 
 congenial, devoted companion of maturer years, faith 
 ful servants, and surrounded by many loving friends, 
 they left her, though unwillingly, to her chosen vigil. 
 
 Had the woman sat idly down and brooded over 
 her crushing loss and the otherwise hardness of her 
 lot, as many like circumstanced would have done, 
 both mind and body would perhaps have given way 
 under the strain. But those very trials had fortunately 
 developed in her a strength and fortitude of character, 
 altogether unlocked for in one containing such extra 
 ordinary sweetness; so that after the first intense bit 
 terness of her grief had given way to a more settled 
 calm, realizing that her mind must have some definite 
 and absorbing occupation, and building far wiser 
 than she knew at the time, Alice had joined with her 
 companion in a course of somewhat rudimentary in 
 struction in the science of medicine and nursing, under 
 the tutelage of their neighborhood physician; an able, 
 fatherly man, who, moved by deepest pity for her 
 trying situation, was more than willing to give to the 
 undertaking the required amount of his valuable time. 
 
 Thus, with mind and time much occupied, the weari- 
 someness of waiting and its wearing suspense, were 
 both lessened; while through the potent medium of 
 music, for which she had been born with a passion, 
 and of which she was a very creditable master, Alice 
 Harding found the needed vent for those recurring 
 waves of melancholy, which, when emotion became 
 too impetuous, could not always be repressed. 
 
THE MILLS OF GOD 387 
 
 Under these very unusual conditions of existence s 
 nearly eighteen more wearying months had passed; 
 their unvarying monotony broken only by an occa 
 sional letter from abroad, in which the wayward wan 
 derer would always speak of an intended quick return. 
 But Winter and Spring and Summer and Autumn and 
 again, Winter, had come and gone, and by the gentle 
 power of yet another Spring, the ice-bound streams 
 had been freed, the hills were again resplendent with 
 verdure, the air vibrant with melody and laden with 
 perfume ; and still he lingered and caroused. For be 
 cause judgment against an evil work is not speedily 
 pronounced, therefore the hearts of the sons of men 
 are fully set in them to do evil ; the Psalmist avers. 
 But, 
 
 'Though the mills of God grind slowly, 
 
 Yet they grind exceeding small. 
 Though with patience He stands waiting, 
 With exactness grinds He all.' 
 
 Neither in life nor death did Gerald Harding ever 
 reach home again; for early that Summer (1905) he 
 was overtaken by the very fate invoked upon him by 
 his wife's indignant friend. Reckless and incapable 
 from intoxication, while guiding his car along a 
 mountain road at break-neck speed, he had collided 
 with another, with such force as to hurl him over the 
 precipice which, in a spirit of dare-deviltry, he 
 hugged; and whose descent was so difficult and dan- 
 
388 ^ BY EARTHQUAKE AND FIRE 
 
 gerous, that the mangled body was not even recovered. 
 The degenerate son of a degenerate sire, he had not 
 lived out half his days, and save for the tears of pity? 
 surely it had not been regret that called them forth, 
 shed by his patient, faithful wife, the prodigal had 
 died unwept. 
 
 "Thank the Lord" ! exclaimed Hattie Lindsay, when 
 the news of the man's untimely ending reached them. 
 And although there was but little of reverence appar 
 ent in the manner of expression, it was as eloquent of 
 honesty as was her deep drawn sigh of satisfaction 
 and relief, as she announced, "I shall go to Alice at 
 once, Jack; not to condole with her, you may be sure 
 of that, but to rejoice; although I shall unfortunately 
 be deprived of the pleasure of doing that openly. But 
 I'll bring her back with me, rest assured of that, for 
 I feel that she belongs to us now. I'll give her no 
 peace this time until she consents to come." A vow, 
 which in her heart of hearts, the discerning and unsel 
 fish sister more than half believed would be a particu 
 larly agreeable one to her attentive listener. 
 
 "I hope you may succeed, Sis," returned the man, 
 heartily; "and if you do, we'll show her that Paris 
 isn't altogether bad. That as great and true happiness 
 may be found here as anywhere, if it's looked for in the 
 right ways and places." 
 
 Hurrying a few things into a gladstone and case, 
 the faithful friend had set off for Liverpool ; and for 
 tunate in catching a swift-going steamer there without 
 
THE MILLS OF GOD 389 
 
 delay, was soon at her loved one's side. Whom, too, 
 she found it not so hard to persuade, as she had feared, 
 this time ; since the compelling invitation was accepted 
 gratefully, yes gladly; for in truth, the desolate heart 
 of the now lone young woman, had long been yearning 
 for the companionship of these dearest, these almost 
 parental friends ; so, jubilant at the unexpected success 
 of her double errand, Hattie Lindsay had insisted upon 
 an immediate return with her most welcome guest, to 
 Paris, and Jack. 
 
 Now it had happened that from their very earliest ac 
 quaintance, the youthful Alice had felt drawn to these 
 maturer friends much as to parents; and while she 
 had not always been able to see her way clear to the 
 following of their advice, she had nevertheless, in each 
 case, been comforted with the belief that she was un 
 derstood. And as she now came to them to be their 
 guest a second time, it was much with the blissful 
 feeling of a child returning to a loved and loving 
 father and mother, from whom it had long been sep 
 arated. 
 
 In their peaceful, happy home, where appreciation, 
 delicately expressed sympathy, and the kindliest con 
 sideration met her on every hand, where the ruling 
 spirit, the motive for every action, seemed plainly and 
 touchingly marked by a desire to erase from her heart 
 and mind, as quickly, and as far as might be possible, 
 the crushing, blighting memories of the past, Alice, 
 contented, gave herself up thankfully to its soothing, 
 
390 BY EARTHQUAKE AND FIRE 
 
 curative influences, and like a tired child, worn and 
 wearied both in mind and body from its too strenuous 
 and long continued play, at last, rested. 
 
 But we must not digress nor loiter for minor details ; 
 for this story being the record of none but love affairs, 
 the tender passion is therefore the only skeleton upon 
 which we may be permitted to build. And as we, per 
 force, return to it once more, we can but hope that 
 the reader has not become weary of the sweet subject. 
 No, nor ever will be ; for ' 'tis love, alone, can make 
 Earth beautiful, and life without regret.' 
 
 Since Alice Harding, physically, was almost an ex 
 act counterpart of her beautiful mother as Jack Lind 
 say, it will be recalled, had been impelled to remark 
 at their first meeting, and as intimate and continued 
 association but revealed the more clearly in her those 
 same admirable traits of character which had not only 
 inspired his youthful love, but, though vain and hope 
 less, had kept it alive and undimmed even to middle 
 life, which he had by now reached, it was neither un 
 natural nor strange that the feeling of fatherly interest, 
 which, as Gertie's daughter, he had at first felt in her, 
 should give place to a deeper, a more personal emo 
 tion. And this change did gradually take place, as 
 month after month rolled by, and the object of his 
 ripening love remained a cherished member of their 
 little family. And patiently waiting until a proper re 
 gard for the proprieties should have made a declar 
 ation of this love fitting, for that the new-made 
 
THE MILLS OF GOD 391 
 
 widow would spend at least her entire year of deepest 
 mourning with them, was the confident expectation of 
 her hosts, the hopeful lover delighted in picturing to 
 himself, the closing years of life filled with all those 
 longed-for joys and blessings which an adverse fate 
 had denied its earlier ones. 
 
 But of a sudden, came a disquieting day of unwel 
 come intelligence ; when, after having received a home 
 letter from her companion, their guest announced to 
 them the necessity for a speedy termination of her 
 delightful visit. 
 
 "Miss Griswold writes me that she has gotten back 
 from her vacation and has everything in readiness for 
 my reception," running her eye over the letter as she 
 talked. "Oh, no; I really can't disappoint her"; she 
 continued, in response to the immediate urgings of her 
 friends that she remain, "for this Winter will furnish 
 her a last opportunity to complete our course of study, 
 and this is an important matter to her, you know, be 
 cause it is costing her nothing, and she contemplates 
 turning her knowledge to profit later on. So you see, 
 I can but go to her, although you must surely know 
 that I shall leave you with much reluctance." 
 
 Now, as may be imagined, the prospect of so sud 
 denly losing their cherished guest, was by no means a 
 pleasant one to either of her friends, and especially to 
 her host, at this particularly critical time; whose mind 
 at the unexpected announcement, at once flew, with 
 dread, to the thought of the unfillable vacancy her 
 
392 BY EARTHQUAKE AND FIRE 
 
 going would leave in the home, for him, at least. Never 
 until then had he fully realized how very dear the 
 woman had become to him, how deeply he loved her, 
 how much he longed to feel her sweet presence always 
 near, what a perfect joy and comfort, aye blessing, 
 her life-long companionship would be to him. "No, I 
 cannot let her go," he admonished himself, with un 
 hesitating decision, "for in her lies my last and only 
 chance for a completed life and happiness. I must tell 
 her of my love even if the time be not fully ripe. That 
 delays are dangerous was surely taught me to my cost 
 and sorrow, in the case of her dear mother ; and I must 
 not allow myself to lose her treasure and mine by a 
 similar mistake." 
 
 It was at their luncheon that Alice Harding had 
 first spoken of going home; and after a lengthy and 
 animated conversation upon the subject, in which both 
 brother and sister exhausted their stores of plea and 
 argument, Jack concluded the long homily with a re 
 signed "Well, Mrs. Harding, since we can neither 
 coax, persuade, nor intimidate, but simply give you 
 up, it seems, to Miss Griswold, for whom you are de 
 termined to leave us so soon, I hope you can spare a 
 little time this afternoon for a last run down to the 
 studio. I've a subject that I'd like your opinion on; 
 there's a sort of vexed question connected with it, that 
 you can help me settle better than any one else. Will 
 you go"? 
 
 "Thanks; indeed I will, Mr. Lindsay"! replied 
 
THE MILLS OF GOD 393 
 
 their guest; smiling with unmistakable pleasure at the 
 prospect. Then continuing "and be most happy to, 
 I assure you ; although I fear my humble opinion will 
 be of little value. But your invitation's both too flat 
 tering and kind to refuse. You know, too, what a 
 treat a visit to the studio always is to me. At what 
 time shall I be ready"? she finished. 
 
 "I leave that to your convenience"; returned her 
 host. "Only," he added, anxious to free his mind of 
 the Vexed question/ I would suggest starting before 
 it gets too late, for the afternoons are rather short 
 now, you know; the light fades pretty early." 
 
 But although the afternoon was far from spent 
 when they arrived, the light of day had faded, and in 
 the deep, blue, wintry sky, a vast galaxy of brilliant 
 stars was already beginning to glisten and twinkle, 
 ere they emerged from the studio and made their way 
 homewards. For they had talked long and earnestly 
 together, these two, after that Alice had been shown 
 the nearly finished portrait of Miss Lindsay, being 
 done by the artist-friend for her, as a Christmas sur 
 prise. 
 
 "It's a perfect likeness, and splendidly done, Air. 
 Lindsay"! she exclaimed with delight; "and how can 
 I ever thank you enough for it? You'll hang it for 
 me, in just the right light, won't you, when you bring 
 it over? You know I shall expect you both to spend 
 the Holidays with me. Oh, how I shall prize it! for 
 Miss Lindsay has been a second mother to me, and to 
 
394 BY EARTHQUAKE AND FIRE 
 
 have so lifelike a reminder of her always in sight, will 
 make her seem so much less far away. I'm going to 
 miss you both more than I can say, dear friend," she 
 continued, with much feeling, "and shall never be 
 able to fully express my appreciation of this, and all 
 your many other kindnesses to me, I fear. You have 
 placed me under such overwhelming obligations as I 
 can never hope to discharge, so matter how long I 
 might live." 
 
 "If you are going to speak of obligation, Mrs. Har 
 ding," put in her companion, quickly, "then the bal 
 ance must ever incline to our side; for you have en 
 deared yourself so to us, that our wish for you to re 
 main, our unwillingness to have you leave us, pro 
 ceeds from pure, downright selfishness. You have 
 once again brought the hope of perfect happiness to 
 my life, Alice"; he now boldly affirmed calling the 
 woman by her given name for the first time ; and there 
 was a melting tenderness in his voice as he breathed 
 it. And as he turned and took her hands impulsively 
 in his own they had been standing very near each 
 other before the unfinished portrait, he went on, 
 apologetically: "I hope you will overlook what may 
 seem a premature declaration of my feelings towards 
 you ; I could have waited longer if you would have 
 stayed with us ; but since you will not, I cannot let you 
 go without knowing my fate. I love you, Alice, and I 
 want your promise to become my wife." 
 
 But there being no immediate reply, for this second 
 
THE MILLS OF GOD 395 
 
 and greatest surprise had followed so quickly upon 
 the other as to deprive the woman of words, even of 
 thoughts, this mature lover talked on, and on, and 
 on; pleading his cause with much more than the 
 vaunted ardor and eloquence of youth; for in his 
 pleading, was voiced the first outpouring of the pent- 
 up longings of a whole lifetime of a deeply affectionate 
 nature for the delights of love. 
 
 "I had never expected to transfer my affections, 
 Alice"; he told her at last, in concluding. "To offer 
 to any other woman, the love which would have been 
 given to your dear mother. But you are so like her, 
 in you she so lives again, that you seem almost her 
 representative; as though one sent to me in her stead. 
 And in offering it to you, I feel it to be more a tangible 
 continuance than a transference. Oh, will you not 
 accept it, and give me yours in return" ? he pleaded. 
 
 Now the man's long and fervid suing had been lis 
 tened to without interruption. No real displeasure had 
 been shown at his declaration, but the unmistakable 
 evidences of surprise that he had seen evoked by his 
 first impassioned words, had not changed to those of 
 pleased surprise as he proceeded, as he could have 
 wished. Rather had they seemed to give way to an 
 air of polite attention; of patient waiting until he 
 might finish. In a word, there had been nothing what 
 ever of encouragement or help in the woman's attitude 
 and manner ; and as he ceased speaking, she shook her 
 head sadly as she replied: "I could have wished to 
 
396 BY EARTHQUAKE AND FIRE 
 
 spare you, of all men, a disappointment, Mr. Lindsay. 
 I feel it to be indeed a great compliment you pay in 
 thus addressing me, but I cannot accept what I cannot 
 return, and I have no heart to give. I made one love 
 less marriage," she explained, "for which, however, 
 believe me, there were good and justifiable reasons 
 and I want never to make another." 
 
 "Yet, in spite of everything, pardon the allusion, 
 Alice," he put in, delicately "there were times when 
 you had almost learned to love, had you not? You 
 have told us as much; and surely you could do the 
 same in my case" ! 
 
 "In your case, there would be everything to make 
 the task an easy one"; was the ingenuous and flatter 
 ing reply; and given, moreover, with much of em 
 phasis; "of that I should have not a doubt. But 
 learning to love is not loving, Mr. Lindsay. It is a 
 perfunctory task that one sets one's self, and like all 
 tasks, liable to become more or less burdensome at 
 times, I fear, under any conditions. Besides, I doubt 
 if it can ever bring the most perfect happiness to either 
 party, as too many considerations must necessarily 
 enter into it; for it is of course, a gradual process, 
 more or less calculating,- and even if successful, the 
 sentiment must be tempered largely by admiration, 
 gratitude, the joy of realized hope, or a sense of duty. 
 But loving, that is an involuntary, instantaneous going 
 out of the heart. Is adoration; and therefore, bliss. 
 Learning to love may be the saner and safer course to 
 
THE MILLS OF GOD 397 
 
 pursue, perhaps, but loving, fills the heart to reple 
 tion! and I speak from experience, Mr. Lindsay," 
 she concluded, hurriedly, almost breathless; as though 
 completely carried away with her subject. 
 
 "What! Is there then another, Alice"? exclaimed 
 her listener in quick surprise ; a note of unspeakable 
 disappointment apparent in his tone. "I had no 
 thought of that possibility." 
 
 "There was"; faintly whispered his companion, 
 while instantly lowering the beautiful eyes, to which 
 tears of sad remembrance were fast hurrying. 
 
 "And is"? he ventured. 
 
 "Not now." 
 
 "Nor ever will be" ? again queried the lover eagerly, 
 as though with returning hope. 
 
 "No, never" ; replied the unhappy woman ; an air of 
 misery, and utter and abject hopelessness, now pervad 
 ing both tone and manner. But soon raising her now 
 tear-filled eyes in which was a look of mute appeal 
 to his, she remained silent for yet a moment, struggling 
 to regain her composure; then faltered, wearily, "but 
 Oh, please let us say no more upon the subject, Mr. 
 Lindsay." 
 
 "Pardon me, Alice, for awakening any painful mem 
 ories" ; begged the man, regretfully ; placing an arm in 
 tender sympathy about his companion as he spoke. "I 
 did not know. But since there can never be this other 
 one," he pursued, "why will you not give yourself to 
 me, dearest? Even if you never succeeded in learning 
 
398 BY EARTHQUAKE AND FIRE 
 
 to love me, I should be satisfied ; for my love, will be 
 deep enough and broad enough and strong enough 
 for us both. Our kinship in the disappointments of 
 love will surely have fitted us to understand each 
 other, and that in itself will be worth much." 
 
 But for answer, Alice Harding once more, slowly 
 shook her head. 
 
 "Is this other and hopeless attachment your only 
 reason for refusing me" ? went on the persistent lover. 
 "O, if it is, darling, I beg of you not to let an idea, a 
 memory, perhaps, keep us apart ! Think for a moment 
 of all you will be depriving me of ; while you, so young 
 and alone in the world, should not deny yourself love, 
 companionship, protection ; and what more fitting than 
 that I, to whom you are doubly dear, should offer you 
 these"? 
 
 "It is a memory only, that stands between us, Mr. 
 Lindsay"; now confessed the other, after a moment's 
 backward silence, "for my admiration for you is un 
 bounded. But that memory is so very precious an one, 
 that it will forever keep me from marriage with an 
 other; the mere thought of entering into such a re 
 lationship would be obnoxious to me. O, my dear, 
 good friend," she then went on, with a wistful plead 
 ing, her voice again tremulous with emotion, "surely 
 one whose life has been such a touching and noble 
 example of undying love, as has yours, must be able 
 to understand the emotions of my heart! You have 
 found the satisfaction and joy of living, in constancy 
 
THE MILLS OF GOD 399 
 
 to a cherished memory ; and would you keep from me, 
 a like, coveted experience" ? she finished ; in manner to 
 upbraid. 
 
 An ensuing break in the conversation after this con 
 fession and appeal, was both prolonged and painful; 
 the perturbed lover, the while, pacing nervously back 
 and forth, from one end of the long and now dimly 
 lighted studio to the other, with head inclining de 
 jectedly towards his breast, his hands tightly clutched 
 behind him. It was a pause of thoughtful, and of 
 undoubted, intense struggle within himself ; a pause in 
 which was enacted a heart tragedy. Yet the manly 
 words which fell from his lips, as he halted, at last, 
 before the patiently waiting woman, showed the per 
 fect unselfishness of his love; the trueness and worth 
 of it. 
 
 "Alice," he murmured softly, though steadily, again 
 taking the dear one's hands, and looking down with an 
 infinitude of tenderness into her anxiously upturned 
 face, "you make it very hard for me when you put it 
 to me like that ; for longing has been inexpressibly in 
 tense, and hope may I say it? very strong. But 
 you also strike a chord in my heart, tuned to the same 
 minor strains as those in your own. I do understand, 
 dear, and therefore I cannot ignore your plea. Your 
 happiness is far dearer to me than my own, and if it 
 would in any degree be lessened by becoming my wife, 
 I could not ask it of you; so I will urge you no fur 
 ther. I will not even sav that I shall continue to 
 
400 BY EARTHQUAKE AND FIRE 
 
 hope, and thus, as it were, attach a string to my re 
 nunciation, for that might annoy and fret you. But 
 Alice, my love for you will never die. With time, 
 your aversion to matrimony may, and if it ever does, 
 dear, you will find some way, I trust, of letting me 
 know ; for I shall be waiting for you/' 
 
 "Your comprehension is truly most comforting, 
 dear friend, and your consideration equally touching" ; 
 answered the relieved woman, gratefully smiling up 
 at her companion, "and in face of it, I shall appear 
 cold and heartless indeed, I fear, when I bid you re 
 linquish all hope, even for a change in my sentiments 
 toward matrimony. But I feel that I may and should 
 say to you candidly, at this time, that there is absolutely 
 no ground upon which for you to build such a hope, 
 since my objection is not to marriage in itself, but to 
 another loveless one ; and I have no heart for any one 
 but him for whom it was made, and whose alone, it 
 has always been ; not even for you. But oh, I do 
 hope that my refusal will not cost me your invaluable 
 friendship, Mr. Lindsay. I may still count upon that, 
 may I not"? she pleaded. "I need it so much. In 
 your home I have found such a blessed haven of rest ; 
 in you and Miss Lindsay, just such a source of sym 
 pathy and encouragement amid the sorrows and trials 
 of life, as I should have had in my dear parents. Not 
 because of the difference in our ages," she inter 
 jected quickly, as in apology, "for believe me, Mr. 
 Lindsay, that has nothing whatever to do with my 
 
THE MILLS OF GOD 401 
 
 unwillingness to become your wife, but because of the 
 deep and tender interest that you have both shown in 
 my welfare and happiness; and I could not bear to 
 lose you as my very dearest and best of friends." 
 
 "Nor will you, Mrs. Harding"; returned the man, 
 with hearty re-assurance. "Have no fears upon that 
 score, for our pride and pleasure in being able to 
 claim friendship with so noble a woman as yourself, 
 nothing, least of all the discovery of yet another lov 
 able trait, can lessen. Forget that I have aspired to a 
 nearer and dearer relationship than that of friend, or 
 remember it only to the more perfectly understand the 
 very high esteem in which I hold you; and make me 
 happy now, by assuring me that you will come to me 
 as freely for advice, sympathy, or protection even, 
 should you ever be in need of either, as you would 
 have done before I had spoken to you of love. For 
 unless I can believe that you will do that, I shall never 
 be able to forgive myself for having disturbed our 
 sweet association of the past." 
 
 "Can you doubt that I will be rejoiced to do so, 
 Mr. Lindsay"? came the instantaneous response. "I 
 shall indeed hope, by that very means, to in some slight 
 degree show my gratitude for the unselfishness which 
 has made such a course possible; and for which I 
 thank you most sincerely," added the grateful woman. 
 "It means more to me than you could have foreseen, 
 too, for had it been otherwise, I could not have carried 
 out a project that I have had in mind of late, and to 
 
402 BY EARTHQUAKE AND FIRE 
 
 the consummation of which I have been looking for 
 ward with the happiest anticipation. I want to dis 
 pose of my interests in America and come to Paris 
 to live, where I may be always with Miss Lindsay and 
 you. That is," she finished inquiringly, "if it would 
 not be objectionable or unpleasant for you to have me 
 do so, now" ? 
 
 On the contrary, it will be decidedly the reverse of 
 both, Mrs. Harding," replied her friend, his pleased 
 surprise very apparent, "and you could not have told 
 me more agreeable news. Sister and I both feel that 
 you belong to us, as it were, and I sincerely hope that 
 the happiness your coming will bring us may not be 
 long delayed." 
 
 "And so do I," returned Alice, frankly, "for I have 
 become most anxious for the change. I shall go back 
 to Miss Griswold and our studies for the Winter, as I 
 promised ; and then by Spring, I trust her affairs will 
 have so shaped themselves that I shall not longer feel 
 it obligatory upon me, in a way, to provide her a home, 
 but instead, may feel free to indulge my own inclina 
 tions; in which case, I shall soon be with you again." 
 
 "The sooner the better, dear friend," responded the 
 rejected lover, heartily, with a well feigned show as 
 of cheerful resignation at the prospective parting. 
 "And now, shall we make for home, to share the good 
 news for the future with Sis ?" he finished. 
 
CHAPTER X. 
 ROBERT MANNING'S TRANSGRESSIONS. 
 
 "Strength of will in proportion to physical 
 strength seemed strangely so lacking in him 
 at this time, that Ichabod might most fittingly 
 have been inscribed over the gateway to his 
 young manhood." 
 
 It is a somewhat far cry, from Paris, France, to 
 San Francisco, California, U. S. A. ; yet thither the 
 trend of our story now compels us to journey, for we 
 must learn how it has fared with our young friend, 
 Robert Manning; who, embittered and cynical, it will 
 be remembered, had sought for possible relief from 
 the pangs of disappointed love, by a change of resi 
 dence to the last named, pleasure-loving city. 
 
 Nigh on to six years had now elapsed, since that 
 glorious morn amid the mountains of Colorado, when, 
 as a youthful but deeply anxious suitor, he had for 
 mally made an impassioned declaration of his life 
 long love to Alice Nichols, and been relieved and 
 cheered by the girl's acknowledgment of a perfect re 
 turn, and the promise of her heart and hand in mar 
 riage, when added years and the completion of his 
 preparation for a man's work in the world, should 
 have won for him his coveted reward; the privilege 
 of claiming her as his own. 
 
404 BY EARTHQUAKE AND FIRE 
 
 If the reader will hark back in memory to the stir 
 ring scenes of that momentous morning, he will recall 
 how earnestly, and impressively, the tortured youth 
 had pleaded for fidelity upon the part of the girl. 
 That she would wait for him, and never allow her 
 heart to be drawn away by the blandishments of his 
 dreaded rival, Gerald Harding. 
 
 'I can stand his loving you, Alice, as long as you 
 don't return it; but I couldn't stand if you did, really 
 I couldn't, for my heart's been bound up in you too 
 long and too completely for that. I believe it would 
 kill me,' were a part of his thrilling words, 'but if it 
 didn't quite do that, it would change me so that I 
 would better be dead ; I can feel that it would, Alice ; 
 that I should never be the same again.' And the be 
 smirched record of the passing years, had alas ! borne 
 only too convincing testimony, to the unerring pre 
 science of the youth as to the composition and work 
 ings of his own nature. 
 
 Now 
 
 Hope entertained, excites the heart, 
 To pleasurable emotion ; 
 
 and since it had been with the most confident hope for 
 good results in the case of her discarded son, that 
 Margaret Manning had consented to leave all those 
 cherished surroundings, so inexpressibly dear to a 
 heart such as hers, and take up her abode in new and 
 strange parts, that the peace of mind and welfare of 
 
ROBERT'S TRANSGRESSIONS 405 
 
 the idolized one might thereby be enhanced, to a 
 mother such as she the most vital concern in life, it 
 had therefore been with even 'pleasurable emotion/ 
 that she had hastened, at his request, to turn her back 
 upon the old home, haunted as it was, for him, by the 
 ghosts of so many heart-rending memories, and set 
 up a new one in the unmemoried city of his choice; 
 where, upon the clean, spotless pages of a new book 
 of life, all future happenings might, with a reasonable 
 degree of certainty, be expected to emblazon them 
 selves in shining characters of light. And to this end, 
 the most untiring and constant effort had been put 
 forth to make of that home first, a peaceful, blessed 
 haven of rest, and second, a centre of joy and bright 
 ness. 
 
 Now, 'he who would have friends must show him 
 self friendly' ; hence, little as her natural tenacity and 
 reserve of disposition inclined her to the forming of 
 new intimacies, for when all has been said and done, 
 it must be admitted that, save in rare instances, new 
 friendships, at their best, seem somehow to lack just 
 that intangible something which would make them 
 quite as dear to the heart as are the old, the devoted 
 mother had responded with such gracious and attrac 
 tive cordiality to the overtures of new-found acquain 
 tances, that a circle of very enjoyable associates 
 should soon have been theirs; while the musical 
 talents of both, would also have proven for them an 
 open sesame into the charms of music's delightful 
 world. 
 
406 BY EARTHQUAKE AND FIRE 
 
 But Robert, now a hater of his kind, a critic even 
 of his God, because of the selfishness of one man, 
 the supposed perfidy of one girl, would have none 
 of them ; but wholly unappreciative of his mother's 
 loving offices in his behalf, and indifferent, seemingly, 
 to the lonely life to which his course must inevitably 
 consign her, in moody moroseness, persisted in shut 
 ting himself out from all the healing influences of 
 social intercourse, and in an abnormal hardening of 
 heart against sympathy for his fellows, while un 
 justly cherishing a sentiment of rancorous resentment 
 against them. 
 
 Perhaps never, was there a more striking exempli 
 fication of that trite old saying that 'we none of us 
 know one another/ than in his case; for surely, we 
 who have had knowledge of his many noble and 
 admirable characteristics from childhood, could never 
 have foreseen his transition from the unusually lov 
 ing, unselfish son, into one in whom the very demon 
 of selfishness now seemed regnant. 
 
 At the same time, that sublimely selfless mother 
 love which, asking for so little in return, demands 
 nothing and accepts even less, with almost abasing 
 alacrity, aye, oftentimes with almost fawning adula 
 tion; which seems to count it as joy to be privileged 
 to unloose the shoes latchet of an unworthy child, 
 that love, held such contrasting sway in the heart of 
 the disappointed and sorely tried mother, that never 
 might so much as the thought of reproach find lodg- 
 
ROBERT'S TRANSGRESSIONS 407 
 
 merit there ; so filled to overflowing was it with yearn 
 ing sympathy, though burdened with sorrow and with 
 anxious forebodings as to the ultimate effect upon 
 him, of the unhealthy mental and spiritual atmosphere 
 in which the morbid young man seemed determined 
 to live. 
 
 True, there were unbearable moments, when in se 
 cret rebelling against the seeming injustice of it all, 
 her heart would cry out, 'Oh, why was this heavy 
 trial sent upon me! what have I done to deserve so 
 dreadful a punishment as this! Oh, why could it not 
 all have been different'? Yet all such outbursts would 
 invariably end in a sense of subdued thankfulness 
 that worse had not befallen; worse, in that her 
 now misanthropic boy should have sought solace for 
 his woes in ruinous dissipation; for, in fairness, it 
 must be said, that up to this point, she had been spared 
 this added sorrow, common enough in like cases. 
 
 And in truth, great cause had the mother for the 
 deepest thankfulness upon this score; for though un 
 known to her, yet because of love for her, Robert was 
 now waging an heroic struggle against the temptation 
 to just such a course; a struggle, which many times 
 threatened to prove an unequal one and end in failure. 
 But possessed, fortunately, of an ambition to rise in 
 the world, his salvation had lain in an overwhelming 
 immersion of himself in his work ; and being both apt 
 and diligent, his devotion had been rewarded with ad 
 vancement of which she might well be and was, justly 
 proud. 
 
408 BY EARTHQUAKE AND FIRE 
 
 Yet while his success had been gratifying to 
 the pride of both, it had brought to the young man 
 himself, not unmixed happiness; for although he had 
 won the open appreciation of his employers, the pleas 
 ure of this had been in a measure offset by the envy, 
 and consequent ill-will, of his fellow-workers, while 
 his self-centered aloofness with both, had effectually 
 shut him out from the love of both; so that he stood, 
 as it were, alone among them. 
 
 But gratifying as merited advancement may be, all 
 work and no play is apt to make Jack not only a dull 
 boy, but in time, a bad one as well. The imperative 
 need for rejuvenating relaxation upon the part of her 
 creatures, is written in unmistakable characters all 
 over the face of Nature. The glowing skies at even 
 tide; the leafless trees of Autumn; the ebbing tides 
 upon the shore; all speak of a period of restful re 
 freshment. Yet Robert's relaxations, even, had been 
 altogether lacking in healthful variety, since they had 
 been little more than a burying- of himself in books ; 
 truly the most exhilarating and lasting of tonics, as 
 well as the best of friends, if properly chosen, but the 
 subtlest of poisons and worst of foes, if not; and in 
 harmony with the now hard, rebellious attitude of his 
 mind towards life and the world, his omnivorous read 
 ing had been little calculated to uplift or strengthen 
 by increasing his faith in the goodness and wisdom 
 of his God, and the integrity of his fellow men. 
 Thus had the depressing years gone by; one, two, 
 
ROBERT'S TRANSGRESSIONS 409 
 
 three. Years whose exceptional history we have but 
 merely outlined, because that the unwholesome mo 
 notony of the disheartening days as they came and 
 went, had furnished so few of heartening details 
 with which to fill in the sketch. Yet do we shrink 
 less from the mention of this dearth of heartening 
 detail, which the disappointing days had known, than 
 from the bitter happenings which steeped so many 
 subsequent ones in sadness and shame and gloom; 
 but since such knowledge is necessary to the comple 
 tion of our story, nothing but unwarranted delay can 
 result from the longer withholding of them from the 
 reader; so without further preamble, we make known 
 the sad fact, that the temptation which had for long 
 been luring Robert Manning to seek rest and quietude 
 of heart in the deadening bowl, at length gained the 
 mastery. 
 
 Nor was it to be wondered at that the young man 
 should have ultimately arrived at this enslaved con 
 dition ; for we know that there is always a pre-deter- 
 mining mental cause, or causes, for every physical 
 state. Has not Hippocrates, the Father of Medicine, 
 in averring that our natures are the physicians of our 
 diseases, implied also the responsibility of those na 
 tures for the existence of disease? And surely our 
 latter-day authorities assert with equal boldness, that 
 being a gregarious animal, the social factor counts 
 for so much in mankind, that ordinarily, people do 
 not thrive, but pine, when they live or work or eat 
 
410 BY EARTHQUAKE AND FIRE 
 
 alone; and also, that a sedentary life, such as this 
 young man had lived both in his work and recreation, 
 is an unbalanced existence, in which the life force, 
 in its struggle for manifestation along physical lines, 
 causes a feeling of unrest; to overcome which, many 
 people take to drink. 
 
 Be this as it may, we know that from the first, al 
 though by nature genial, Robert Manning had with 
 drawn from companionship, and spurning sympathy, 
 had shut himself up with a steely heart in the closet 
 of memory, alone with his burdensome grief; than 
 which nothing can bring about a more unhealthy 
 physical or spiritual tone. The one cloud upon the 
 horizon of his life, he had unwisely allowed to ob 
 scure the abounding blue of its skies. He had re 
 membered only the stinging bed of nettles which had 
 suddenly sprung up to border his pathway, forgetful 
 of the broad meadows, carpeted with their soft green 
 grass, through which it lay; he had peered only into 
 the impenetrable midnight, with its thick darkness; 
 blinding the eyes of his soul to the sublime mysteries 
 of the dawn, the fierce yet blessed brightness of the 
 noonday, the entrancing beauties of the sunset's after 
 glow, the reposeful calm of twilight. He had so suf 
 fused his being with the enervating miasma of gloomy 
 thoughts, that after three years of ineffectual strug 
 gle amid the unfavorable conditions with which he 
 had seen fit to surround himself, his weakened will 
 had become unequal to the contest, and he had been 
 
ROBERT'S TRANSGRESSIONS 411 
 
 drawn into the threatening maelstrom of strong drink. 
 He had fought, 'tis true; but he had not, like a good 
 soldier, endured to the end. 
 
 Oh, how many a doting mother has been called to 
 drink of the same 'waters of Marah/ from which his 
 now drank to the full ! And not the least of her sor 
 row perhaps, was the remembering of happier things ; 
 sorrow's crown of sorrow ; as the Laureate has put it. 
 The calling to mind of days when Life had seemed 
 to regard her happiness as its especial object of con 
 cern and favor; so lavish had been its gifts. And 
 even when an evil hour had fallen upon her, wherein 
 must be meted out a bitter cup, had yet sweetened it 
 with the unselfish consideration of her noble boy, and 
 an inspiriting vision of the v/onderful promise of his 
 future. 
 
 But now how changed it all was ! And the full 
 significance and extent of the change had never been 
 really borne in upon her, until a season of haunting 
 fear had given way to vague suspicion, and suspicion 
 had, in turn, been made certainty, on one never-to-be- 
 forgotten night ; when, hoping against hope, with anx 
 ious heart and tense nerve, she had waited and listened 
 for the young man's belated homecoming; starting at 
 every unusual sound, straining her ear to catch every 
 faintest echo which fell upon it; until in the early 
 hours of another day, her heart had sickened to hear 
 his stumbling feet unsteadily mounting the steps which 
 led to their home. And when the door to which she 
 
412 BY EARTHQUAKE AND FIRE 
 
 had wearily dragged herself to admit him opened, and 
 he had lurched forward into the hall, cursing the key 
 hole which had eluded him, Oh, the dense blackness ; 
 the inconceivable agony of a moment like that, to a 
 mother such as Robert Manning's! 
 
 'The heart knoweth its own bitterness' ; and it would 
 therefore be vain for another to attempt to depict the 
 horrors of those awful hours, as the so cruelly enlight 
 ened mother sat, weeping and praying by turns at the 
 bedside of her 'only joy,' now lying in a beastly stupor, 
 sleeping off the effects of intoxication. Nor would it 
 perhaps be any less impossible to portray the shame, the 
 remorse, the loathing of himself which filled the heart 
 of the culprit when he at length awakened, sobered 
 and again himself, to look up into the saddened, sor 
 rowful face, fixed with such tender yearning upon his 
 own. The face to which the visible lines of suffering 
 and the heavy eyes with their reddened, swollen lids, 
 seemed to have added years since he had left her the 
 evening before 'for a little while,' as he told her, 
 with a careless goodbye, which for once, had lacked 
 the customary, even if now, at times, perfunctory kiss 
 
 "I don't ask you to forgive me, mother"; he had 
 told her, after a long tirade of the most bitter, but 
 alas! vain denunciation of himself; "for it cannot be 
 that a mother's love, not even one like yours, can 
 overlook such cruel ingratitude as I have been guilty 
 of. Nor should you, for I don't deserve it; although 
 my heart has become such a load within me of late, 
 
ROBERT'S TRANSGRESSIONS 413 
 
 mother, that it seemed I simply must have something 
 to distract me, to make it impossible for me to re 
 member, for a while, in order to go on living at all. 
 And in fact," he went on to affirm, "if it had not been 
 for the jthought of leaving you alone, I should have 
 put an end to it all before now. But yet I do ask you 
 for what will be even harder to give, I fear, your con 
 fidence. Only let me feel that I have that once more, 
 Mother," he begged, "as I had it in those better and 
 happier days when I was more worthy of being called 
 the son of my parents, and I vow to Heaven! that 
 this, my first over-indulgence, which was not to sat 
 isfy a taste for the vile stuff, which I loathe, but to 
 help me forget, shall never be repeated." 
 
 "A mother's love, my dear child," replied the weep 
 ing mother, tenderly, "concerns itself only with the 
 excusing of an offense ; not forgiving ; for in her heart 
 resentment finds no place; while as for my confi 
 dence, it is absolute; for I feel sure that you could 
 never bring yourself to cause me such suffering as you 
 have tonight, a second time." 
 
 "Thank you, mother, for your free and loving for 
 giveness and unhesitating confidence; that is all I can 
 say"; faltered Robert, with moist eye, and a grateful 
 pressure of the loved hand held clasped within his 
 own. "But of one thing you may be certain; I will 
 never grieve you again by yielding to this temptation ; 
 never!" 
 
 "I know you will not, Robert, and yet I have long 
 
414 BY EARTHQUAKE AND FIRE 
 
 feared for just such a climax as this to the course you 
 have been pursuing"; returned the mother, gently. 
 "This steeling of your heart against all healing influ 
 ences, and cherishing such vindictive thoughts and 
 feelings towards your Heavenly Father, the infinite 
 love and wisdom of whose dealings with them, none 
 of his creatures should presume to question, has 
 worried me beyond measure, as you know. It has 
 been the bitterest drop in my cup of sorrow, to see 
 the glorious promise of your boyhood and youth in 
 this respect, unrealized; and could I even now, hear 
 you say, regarding this temptation 'by the grace of 
 God,' rather than, 'I vow to Heaven/ it would be 
 most cheering to me; for I should see in it a more 
 promising spiritual tone, which would lead you to look 
 to the Source of all strength, to keep you from fall 
 ing." 
 
 "Our ideas differ as to the looking to the 'Source 
 of all strength/ to which you allude, Mother," re 
 turned the son, reverently ; "but perhaps the difference 
 is more in form than effect. You know I believe that 
 one can be, what he wills to be; and I see now that 
 my mistake, sin if you will, hitherto, has been in 
 not exercising my will as I should. But your assurance 
 of unshaken confidence in me, will make me stronger 
 to do so now ; and you will hereafter find me the good 
 and true son that I would and should be ; of that you 
 can rest assured, best and dearest of mothers," he 
 concluded; clasping his reassured parent in his arms, 
 and kissing her again and again. 
 
ROBERT'S TRANSGRESSIONS 415 
 
 "Very good, my son," answered the hopeful mother, 
 approvingly. "I, too, believe emphatically in the 
 power of the human will, but not unaided," she went 
 on to qualify, "for it is so woefully hampered by the 
 weaknesses of the flesh. So 'watch and pray, that 
 you enter not into temptation' my precious child, and 
 may God be very sensibly with you always." 
 
 The great Apostle to the Gentiles, when he ex 
 claimed, 'To will is present with me, but how to per 
 form that which I would, I find not' ; while voicing, as 
 he did in that epigrammatic form, the disheartened 
 plaint of struggling, sinning humanity as a whole, 
 might as truly have been rehearsing the individual 
 experiences of Robert Manning, whose 'first over-in 
 dulgence' alas ! proved not to be his last ; although we 
 considerately drop the veil of silence over the sad 
 scenes attending his subsequent lapses; more and 
 more frequent in their recurrence as the fatal appetite 
 for itself which alcohol creates, became dominant 
 enough to often over-ride the one deterring influence 
 still active within him; his unquestionably deep love 
 for his mother. 
 
 Yet could he see that mother's hair silvering, her 
 eye losing the brightness and her step the spring of 
 hope, see her fading, ageing prematurely, through 
 eating out of her heart because of him, and still be 
 deluded into the supposition that his transient periods 
 of forgetfulness, offset the subsequent billows of re 
 morse which rolled over his unhappy soul. His con- 
 
416 BY EARTHQUAKE AND FIRE 
 
 duct both angered and excited to pity ; for now in the 
 very flower of life, he had reached his twenty-fifth 
 year, and a splendid-looking six-footer he was, who 
 appeared not to carry a single ounce of superfluous 
 flesh in his two hundred avoirdupois, with a naturally 
 determined and forceful character, strength of will 
 in proportion to physical strength seemed strangely 
 so lacking in him at this time, that 'Ichabod' might 
 most fittingly have been inscribed over the gate-way to 
 his young manhood. Should we have looked for the 
 secret of his decline, however, it would not have been 
 hard to find ; Robert had been brought up in the way 
 he should go, but he had unwisely chosen to repudiate 
 the God of his fathers. 
 
 How gladly would we refrain from reference to 
 the two years, the one preceding, the other following 
 this period; omit the dark chapter which their history 
 injects into our story; but we may not. The constant 
 fear and dread, the alternations between despair and 
 hope, incident to the periodical transgressings and re- 
 pentings, laid upon the distraught mother all and more 
 than she could well bear of heart-ache, and wrought 
 in her the many disastrous effects of deep, wearing 
 anxiety. Anxiety, too, unrelieved by even an occas 
 ional expression of friendly sympathy; for Robert's 
 altered habits must be concealed from the very few 
 friends whom she had allowed herself to cultivate; 
 and from the smiling exterior presented to the world, 
 none could have guessed her bitter secret. 
 
ROBERT'S TRANSGRESSIONS 417 
 
 Oh, how real and vivid now became that portion of 
 the poet's words : 'All that grief hath known of hopes 
 laid waste, Knells in that word Alone!' for aside 
 from the loving and encouraging 'Don't be a grievin' 
 so, me darlint! sure an' it's betther days that's a 
 comin'; ventured now and again by the faithful old 
 servant, who could not long be kept in ignorance of 
 the doings of her young master, there was no com 
 forting 'Be of good cheer,' whispered in her ear, to 
 fan the oft-times flickering flame of hope. 
 
 Yet, though unsought, outside sympathy did come 
 at last; as deep and sincere as it was sudden and un 
 expected; but the open disgrace which evoked it, 
 proved, unhappily, to be the proverbial 'final straw 
 that breaks the camel's back.' 
 
 Now through drink, Robert Manning had also been 
 led into the distraction of gambling; the races and 
 poker becoming his pastime; although for a consid 
 erable time, the much worried mother had been hap 
 pily without knowledge of this new cause for solici 
 tude. His attendance upon the former had thus far 
 been limited to the weekly half holiday from business ; 
 where he had one day been discovered by their most 
 intimate friend, the very Mr. Elliott to whose interest 
 and influence the young man was indebted for his 
 business connection. An enlightening letter to the 
 mother was the result; 'for,' wrote that good and true 
 friend, 'I lack the courage to tell you in person such 
 things as I now feel to be necessary. It is between 
 
418 BY EARTHQUAKE AND FIRE 
 
 ourselves, however, for let me assure you right here, 
 dear Mrs. Manning, that I have not spoken at home 
 even, of the deplorable change which has taken place 
 in Robert. I will refer first to his indulgence in liquor. 
 
 Many times during the last few months, he has gone 
 back to the office from luncheon at the club which he 
 frequents, so intoxicated as to be unfit for business 
 the rest of the day. Out of consideration for me, Mr. 
 C. has screened him in his private sanctum at such 
 times, where he has slept off the effects ; so that by the 
 time he returned home at evening, you have probably 
 never suspected the condition he had been in but a 
 few hours before. I never saw any one else who 
 sobered up so quickly and carried no traces ; a few 
 hours of sleep and he is apparently his normal self 
 again. I have talked to Robert repeatedly, and pleaded 
 with him to let the dangerous stuff alone, and each 
 time, deeply penitent, he has promised; but still he 
 continues. 
 
 Now Mr. C. values his services, and because of this 
 at first latterly, I must admit, through my interven 
 tion has retained him in his employ. Gambling, 
 however, is something he simply will not tolerate in 
 an employee, and much as I shrink from telling you 
 this, Robert, I find, is much addicted to this bad habit 
 also. Rumors to the effect that he was, and was also 
 a constant and reckless bettor, had reached Mr. C.'s 
 ears, the boy seems unfortunately to have many 
 more enemies than friends and yesterday he was told 
 
ROBERT'S TRANSGRESSIONS 419 
 
 of it again, and that Robert would be at the track this 
 afternoon. Hoping to disprove the rumor by so doing, 
 I myself went over to see, and found the statement 
 but too true; Robert was not only there, but much 
 under the influence of drink beside, and making him 
 self very uncreditably conspicuous among a most un 
 worthy looking lot of associates ; I could not have felt 
 worse to see my own boy in such company. 
 
 It is very hard for me to write you thus, dear friend, 
 but I feel that it is neither right nor wise nor even pos 
 sible, for me to keep these things from your knowledge 
 any longer, for / have no lasting influence over Robert ; 
 you are the only one who has and can save him. Not, 
 of course, that he is any longer a child and subject 
 to your control, but the mere fact of your knowing 
 how he is going on, will be enough to bring him to 
 himself, I believe; for he has been overwhelmed with 
 remorse for his conduct, upon your account, when 
 ever I have had occasion to talk with him about it. 
 
 I know this great change in him has all resulted 
 from his continued brooding over that disastrous love 
 affair, which was an exceptionally hard experience, 
 I admit. Still, considering his birth, training, and 
 strong nature, I must confess I would have expected 
 Robert to meet it more like a man ; and as he no doubt 
 would have done, had he been older. 
 
 In closing, dear friend, let me assure you of my 
 deep sympathy in this trying situation, and of my wish 
 to be of further service to you if I can. If you want 
 
420 BY EARTHQUAKE AND FIRE 
 
 advice or assistance of any kind, call on me without 
 hesitation; and I hope you may find some comfort in 
 the assurance of my perfect confidence, that now that 
 you know, we shall have no cause for like anxiety 
 about Robert again/ 
 
 Oh, what news for any mother, under any circum 
 stances, to receive! but especially for this mother un 
 der these. The shadow cast by that indisputable 
 damning though friendly letter, put in total eclipse 
 the one ray of sunshine which yet illumined her dark 
 ened life; for through all her worry and mortification, 
 the thought by which she had been upheld, had been 
 that her galling secret the world knew not of; but 
 now, hope was cut off even in that direction. It nau 
 seated her to think of the groundless delusion under 
 which she had been laboring; that while she had been 
 striving so hard to present a smiling face, a care-free 
 demeanor to their friends, this one friend, at least, 
 possibly others, had been seeing the reverse side of 
 the picture and had been pitying her. And then her 
 heart sank still lower, as she suddenly remembered 
 how that it was Robert himself who had led her into 
 this miserable delusion, by declaring again and again, 
 that he "never so much as looked at the vile stuff dur 
 ing the day." 
 
 And with the realization that, notwitstanding her 
 devotion, forbearance, confidence, he could bring him 
 self to deliberately lie to her, that formerly so high- 
 minded he was no longer truthful, and that henceforth 
 
ROBERT'S TRANSGRESSIONS 421 
 
 she must take his most positive assertions even with 
 an element of distrust; he, the child whom she had 
 borne, reared so carefully, loved so unselfishly and 
 worshipped almost idolatrously, when this realization, 
 coupled with the knowledge of additional shortcom 
 ings, association with degrading companions, and the 
 shame of discovery and publicity, finally took hold, 
 firm hold of her reluctant consciousness, stung to the 
 quick, the crushed spirit of the mother died within her, 
 and mind weakened, while body succumbed; for 
 
 Hope disappointed, cankers; chills; 
 The very life-blood sips. 
 
 And this utterly disappointed one could stand the strain 
 no longer. 
 
 Two months of prostration followed this collapse; 
 months filled with as great suffering for the stricken 
 one as they long were for Robert with deepest anxiety 
 and concern as to the outcome. But when the mother 
 could again think and talk clearly, she said and said 
 truly, that she would gladly have gone through it all, 
 and more, for the sake of the restored son, so assiduous 
 in his attendance upon her, once more tender and 
 affectionate in his intercourse, so solicitous for her 
 recovery and determined, even in the most critical 
 hour, not to give her up, so bowed down with grief 
 for all he had brought upon her. Who had won his 
 way back to the full confidence of their anxious friend, 
 and the renewed esteem of his employer. 
 
422 BY EARTHQUAKE AND FIRE 
 
 For Robert Manning, devoured with shame and re 
 morse, had taken himself so masterfully in hand when 
 he learned of his mother's fuller knowledge of his dis 
 graceful habits and saw its dire effect upon her, as to 
 show himself a man indeed ; well worthy of the toler 
 ance which had spared him the ignomy of dishonorable 
 dismissal from a good and lucrative position. 
 
CHAPTER XI. 
 
 NON COMPOS MENTIS. 
 
 "For to the dead mind of the living mother 
 
 he was but as a stranger." 
 
 Excessive joy sometimes kills ; but not so in the case 
 of Margaret Manning, for her joy, though most ex 
 cessive, was of the sort which invigorates only. In 
 a glorious resurrection morn, buried hope had come 
 forth from its sepulcher in her heart and found reali 
 zation ; and 
 
 Hope realized, of sparkling wine, 
 Holds chalice to the lips. 
 
 And this wine, which she now drank from a brim 
 ming chalice, was as the wine of life to her; whose 
 sparkle soon banished the dullness of eye, and cours 
 ing through the bloodless veins, brought back to her 
 cheek a shade of its wonted color; herald of renewed 
 vitality and returning strength. And the smile which 
 played about her mouth was no longer studied and a 
 hollow mockery, because feigned, but spontaneous, and 
 filled with the joy of satisfied contentment. For the 
 mother had again come into her own at last; the un 
 selfish consideration and grateful devotion of the son 
 
424 BY EARTHQUAKE AND FIRE 
 
 of her love, the idol of her heart, whose single aim it 
 now was to cover the sad and blighting memories of 
 a past, with the joyous experiences of a happy present. 
 
 And not of a happy present only, but of a delightful 
 future as well; for bent upon making the fullest pos 
 sible amends for his failings, Robert had not only un 
 selfishly suggested, but also insisted upon, a return to 
 the home city, from which he well knew the heart 
 of his parent had never been separated. 
 
 "Give up the flat from May ist, mother," he ad 
 vised. "That will leave us more than six weeks to 
 sell out in; we will surely find a buyer long before 
 that." 
 
 Now it would have been strange, indeed, if such a 
 suggestion had not caused the heart of Margaret Man 
 ning to bound with joy; yet stranger still, if she had 
 not at first demurred at acceptance of the generous 
 proposal. But when the soft sentimentalities of 
 mother-love had been silenced by the logic of cold 
 reason, the wisdom and greater safety of the change 
 appealing to her, it was gratefully accepted. 
 
 The plan for the intended move being carried out 
 as proposed, the days were happy days for both, while 
 they waited though not impatiently for the pur 
 chaser who did not at once appear; for time was yet 
 needed to restore to the convalescent the strength 
 needed to fortify against the fatigue of travel. Then 
 there were some few little parting civilities to be ac 
 cepted and returned, and these social duties were now 
 
NON COMPOS MENTIS 425 
 
 to spell real pleasure for Margaret Manning, because 
 of her son's interest and participation in them. 
 
 "We shall be but little apart hereafter," became the 
 frequent whisper of her happy heart; and living in 
 that blessed assurance, the grateful mother gave her 
 self up to rest joyfully in it and recuperate for the 
 prospective home-going, which her May-day anni 
 versary was to begin. 
 
 One intervening, early April evening, when the tem 
 pering ocean breezes were refreshingly fanning the 
 perspiring faces of the city's inhabitants, after one of 
 its rare, and therefore prostrating days of extremely 
 high temperature for that climatically most favored 
 locality, Robert, tired and exhausted from a very busy 
 day in a super-heated office, had started out for an 
 airing at the beach; to whose miles of sandy stretch 
 the populace was wont to flock in great numbers, under 
 all such provocation. 
 
 "Look for me about eleven, mother," he had said, 
 as he bade his parent an affectionate good-night. 
 "Don't sit up for me though, for you need all the 
 sleep you can get these days." 
 
 Accordingly, with a heart now blessedly free from 
 all misgivings, the mother had retired at a seasonable 
 hour to a sweet and sound first sleep ; from which the 
 pealing bell of a near-by church at length awakened 
 her to the knowledge that midnight had come again, 
 but not Robert; for the hall light still burned for the 
 absent son. 
 
426 BY EARTHQUAKE AND FIRE 
 
 Knowing the fascination of the beach on such 
 nights, however, and how late the crowds were given 
 to lingering in the open, loath to leave the salty fra 
 grance and reviving coolness of the ocean, she re 
 minded herself of the sudden, simultaneous rush for 
 home which always took place about this hour, and 
 the consequent delay in getting even a foothold aboard 
 the densely packed street cars ; and drowsily thinking, 
 "it will be one, probably, before he gets here/ had 
 dropped off into another untroubled slumber. 
 
 But when the bell's solitary stroke again brought 
 the woman to herself, the light outside her room yet 
 burned. Still, the hour was not an unseasonable one 
 for such an occasion, and sleeping more lightly now, 
 most of another hour had been passed in alternate 
 dozings and wakings. 
 
 Two o'clock however, found the now very uneasy 
 mother, too nervous to remain longer in bed, lightly 
 robed and seated in the circular, corner window of 
 an adjoining room, which commanded a view of two 
 streets. O, how many times had she sat in that same 
 window before, eagerly watching now in this direction, 
 now that, through the long, silent hours of the night, 
 for her boy's return. And what home-comings those 
 had been! Yet even as she shuddered at the sicken 
 ing remembrance of them, her heart went out in deep 
 est thankfulness that they were now but the fading 
 memories of an unhallowed past, impossible of repe 
 tition, for her dear one had come to himself. 
 
NON COMPOS MENTIS 427 
 
 "And now, O, Lord," she fervently breathed, once 
 more voicing the prayer often upon her lips and con 
 stantly within her heart "continue Thy work of 
 grace, I beseech Thee, until he shall have said, 'I will 
 arise and go to my Father/ " Thus the anxious night 
 wore slowly on. 
 
 Another hour of vain watching passed; and now, 
 with alarm added to uneasiness, the distracted mother 
 began an almost constant using of her 'phone; calling 
 up in close succession, first one, then another of the 
 offices of the various Dailies. "Had any accident been 
 reported since evening or drowning at the beach 
 or hold-up or sudden death or prostration from the 
 excessive heat of the day ?" For that Robert had been 
 the victim of some such accident or happening, she 
 was so very sure, that the negative replies received 
 in each case, seemed almost to disappoint rather than 
 relieve. 
 
 And now came Winnie, the maid of all work of 
 late the only attendant upon her mistress with her 
 coaxing 'take this bit iv a biscuit and sup o' wine, 
 me darlint.' But Margaret Manning could have flown 
 as easily as to have swallowed a morsel or drop of 
 anything by this time, for her nervousness had grown 
 intolerable; driving her from 'phone to window, from 
 window to 'phone. But the church bell had pealed 
 forth the hour of four, and still her aching eyes had 
 not been eased nor her burdened heart gladdened, wtih 
 the sight of a loved figure upon the street, and her 
 
428 BY EARTHQUAKE AND FIRE 
 
 repeated inquiries for the news she sought had begun 
 to annoy, and elicit but a short 'No* in response. 
 
 The periodical 'cuckoo, cuckoo,' from the Swiss 
 clock in the diningroom, and the gentle ticking of the 
 dainty French one upon the mantel of the little parlor 
 in which they sat, for devoted Winnie had insisted 
 upon remaining to share her mistress' vigil alike, now 
 wrought so raspingly upon the strained sensibilities of 
 Margaret Manning, that she was grateful indeed, when 
 instinctively, the woman had quietly slipped from the 
 room with the one, and closed the doors between her 
 and the other. And although it was simply unendur 
 able, she felt truly sorry in her heart to request the 
 loving soul to desist from the bits of intended cheer 
 ing conversation, that she would now and then attempt. 
 
 Agitation reached a climax however, when the quiet 
 of the night was soon after broken by a man's thick, 
 husky voice singing 
 
 'Here's good luck to whiskey, 
 
 For it makes you feel so frisky ; 
 
 Drink it down, drink it down, drink it down !' 
 
 for then it was that a horrible fear entered her mind. 
 "Can it be ? Again ? After all ?" she questioned fran 
 tically with herself; as she tottered, shivering with 
 nervous dread, to the window, and strained her eyes 
 for a moment to peer through the dimness of the semi- 
 lighted street. But sank back upon her chair with a 
 
NON COMPOS MENTIS 429 
 
 smothered "No, thank God!" as the drunken singer, 
 a man much older than Robert, staggered across the 
 street and up the steps of an opposite house, from an 
 upper window of which a guiding light faintly 
 streamed. 
 
 "Robert was never noisy like that," she reminded 
 herself, with a feeling of satisfaction; and then her 
 heart stood still for a second, gripped again by that 
 horrible fear; for she had just before interviewed the 
 men of news again, and received the same unsatis 
 factory answer. 
 
 "But no! it is not so!" she burst out at length, as 
 if to drive away the awful thought; unheeding the 
 presence of her companion. "Robert is dead ! dead I 
 say, or hurt and unable to get home ! He never stayed 
 away from me a whole night before. Oh, my boy ! 
 my boy! Where shall I look for you? How shall I 
 come to you?" 
 
 And pale and haggard, the unhappy woman now 
 began a restless pacing back and forth; back and 
 forth ; longing for the break of day, that she might do 
 something; glad indeed when the noisy rattle of the 
 milk and bread wagons over the hard pavements of 
 the deserted streets, began to tell of its oncoming. 
 And when, later, rising from behind the beautiful, 
 green Berkeley hills across the vast bay which she 
 overlooked, a pale yellowness began slowly diffusing 
 itself along the Eastern sky, she exclaimed trium 
 phantly, "They can't keep it from me much longer 
 
430 BY EARTHQUAKE AND FIRE 
 
 Winnie; I shall soon have my paper now!" For in 
 her ravening eagerness for news, the constantly dis 
 appointed inquirer whose recently disturbed mind 
 had scarcely yet regained its perfect equilibrium had 
 finally come to believe that this was being purposely 
 withheld from her. 
 
 When next the church bell pealed, it proclaimed the 
 interminable dark hours of the night at an end ; and 
 just as the little bird in the dining-room was sallying 
 gaily forth again, to call attention to the fact that the 
 first half hour of a new daylight had passed, the sharp 
 crack of the tightly twisted morning paper against 
 the front door, was heard ; and Winnie, leaving the 
 post of vantage from which she had been so steadily 
 watching, hurried below to bring to her mistress the 
 long wished-for sheet. 
 
 Startled by the sudden though familiar thud, Mar 
 garet Manning came to an abrupt pause in her rest 
 less pacing, as the woman left the room; and with 
 heart in mouth, and the terrific pressure of blood upon 
 her ear-drums from its rapid beating all but deafen 
 ing her, put forth a mighty effort to calm and pre 
 pare herself for what might await. Being by now so 
 possessed by that terrible fear, that in spite of all 
 efforts at self-control, the nerveless limbs shook so 
 under her as to compel a dropping down into the con 
 versazione by which she stood, in order to keep from 
 falling; and a-tremble from head to foot, it was with 
 an almost palsied hand that she took the untwisted 
 
NON COMPOS MENTIS 431 
 
 sheet from a maid, scarcely less agitated than herself. 
 For Winnie McCaffrey would have given her life for 
 this mother and son ; both of whom she had proudly 
 dandled upon her knees in infancy, from whom she 
 had never been separated, and around whom the abid 
 ing love of her warm, Irish heart, had ever since 
 twined. So she stood by now, breathlessly waiting 
 for her share in the expected bad news, for which her 
 over-wrought mistress was excitedly running her eye 
 up and down the columns of the printed page. 
 
 All at once, the paper slid to the floor, as the hands 
 which had been holding it, suddenly relaxing, dropped 
 limply into the lap ; and dazed and stunned, the mother, 
 with the despairing look of some closely pursued 
 wild creature in her eyes, looked appealingly up, star 
 ing speechless into the anxious face of her companion. 
 For this was the happening that she had read, sensa 
 tionally detailed at length, with bold headlines, in the 
 outer column of the Journal's first page : 
 
 "POKER GAME IN SWELL DEN ON 
 P STREET RAIDED ! 
 
 TWENTY PROMINENT YOUNG MEN, REGULAR 
 
 FREQUENTERS OF THE PLACE, 
 
 ARRESTED \" 
 
 And then, heading the list of those who had been 
 locked up as not having sufficient money left with 
 which to pay the required fine, with their occupations 
 
432 BY EARTHQUAKE AND FIRE 
 
 and addresses, was the name of 'Robert Armstrong 
 Manning.' 
 
 "Oh, what is it, me darlint; what is it?" screamed 
 the frightened maid; dropping to her knees beside 
 her mistress and chafing the cold, clammy hands. 
 "What is it has happened to Masther Robert? Tell 
 me, me darlint, tell me, an' don't luk at me the loiks 
 o' that! O, howly Mother o' God, defind us!" she 
 cried ; devoutly crossing herself. 
 
 At the sound of the other's voice, the deadened 
 faculties of the stricken mother seemed to waken to 
 a sense of needed action, and bring back the power 
 of thought and speech; and jumping to her feet she 
 shrieked, "My clothes, Winnie, my clothes! bring me 
 my clothes ! and money, Winnie ! money and a knife ! 
 They haven't told the truth, Winnie ! Robert is dead 
 he was drowned at the beach and they won't bury 
 him! They have put him in jail, Winnie! In jail! 
 Don't you hear me !" she demanded, as though pro 
 voked at receiving no reply; "A Manning is in jail! 
 Bring my clothes, Winnie!" she again commanded, 
 impatiently; "And money! And a knife! I must go 
 kill the man who dared send Robert Armstrong's 
 grandson to jail!" 
 
 And still calling wildly for her clothes, and tearing 
 frantically at the fastenings of her robe-de-chambre, 
 the yet physically weak, and now demented woman, 
 sank down, exhausted by her furious outburst. For 
 demented she was in very truth. The blow to family 
 
NON COMPOS MENTIS 433 
 
 name and honor and pride, had proven 'the final straw/ 
 Soothing her mistress with the promise of the things 
 for which she clamored, the quick-witted maid slipped 
 quickly to the 'phone in the hall, and called for a num 
 ber. "Me misthress is dyin' me masther's dead an' they 
 won't bury 'im an' o fer the luv uv Hivin coom quick !" 
 she shouted into the receiver. And to such purpose, 
 that by the time the dressing of her mistress pro 
 longed by every subterfuge her inventive brain could 
 devise had been accomplished, the friend who scarce 
 three months earlier had offered just such assistance 
 as was now needed, was there to render it. 
 
 A charnel house were a preferable home to the one 
 to which Robert Manning returned a few hours later; 
 for to the dead mind of the living mother, he was now 
 but as a stranger; to whom, in common with all who 
 came near, she told a never-ending, pathetic tale about 
 "a baby who deceived me, and was drowned for it 
 one warm night in Lake Sylvanus, and whom they 
 won't bury." 
 
 The other inevitable penalties to be paid for his 
 fatal indulgence, were severe indeed. The bitter de 
 nunciation of heart-broken though loving Winnie, 
 the reproaches and forfeited confidence of interested 
 friends ; the scarcely concealed sneers of envious busi 
 ness associates, glad of his downfall; the meeting and 
 squaring of himself with his employer, at least to a 
 sufficient degree to escape the disgrace of instant dis 
 missal ; the ineffaceable recollection of having been in 
 
434 BY EARTHQUAKE AND FIRE 
 
 the hands of the Law, with the withering shame of it, 
 these were humiliating and bitter beyond conception. 
 But to look into the vacant eyes and expressionless 
 face, and listen to the unintentionally accusing chatter 
 of the wrecked mother, whom he upbraided himself 
 'It had been far less cruel to have slain/ this was the 
 punishment that well nigh crazed Robert Manning, 
 and in a day, added ten years to his apparent age. She 
 listened without comprehension or interest, to his 
 really true story of having been drawn unwittingly 
 into the game which he had not once before indulged 
 in since the race-track episode, and never would 
 again; but his visible remorse and piteous appeals for 
 forgiveness, made not the least impression; for she 
 to whom they were made, was no longer compos 
 mentis. 
 
 But, 'how oft the penitential tear, bedews the 
 mourner's cheek/ Could the mother only have known 
 that at last, like the Prodigal's of old, the penitent 
 'Father, I have sinned!' of her humbled, wandering 
 boy had also been spoken, the joy in her heart would 
 have soon have brought back the light of reason to 
 her eye, we think. 
 
 The sorry situation was not altogether without en 
 couragement however, for the case was diagnosed as 
 but a harmless dementia, such as frequently followed 
 nervous shock, and which, if the patient were kept 
 unfretted and so, tranquil in mind, well fortified with 
 sleep and nourishing food, would soon pass ; no worse 
 developments were anticipated. 
 
NON COMPOS MENTIS 435 
 
 But an anxious week went by without improvement, 
 with no noticeable change, in fact. Then, suddenly, 
 the talkativeness ceased and gave place to absolute 
 silence for a couple of days; during which, with the 
 knitted brow of deep, hard thought, the afflicted 
 woman seemed making a strenuous, though at first 
 vain attempt to remember something. For giving up 
 in apparent despair now and then, she would shake 
 her head in a hopelessly disappointed way, and rising 
 dejectedly, would again tread the floor aimlessly for 
 hours; after which, another evident struggle with 
 memory would begin. 
 
 At last, in the midst of one of these wearying 
 mental periods, the intensely absorbed look upon her 
 face was seen all at once to change to' one of enlight 
 enment, but also, distress; and in a horrified whisper 
 the one word 'jail P fell just once from the parted lips. 
 
 It was a gruesome enough word to hear her speak, 
 and yet it caused rejoicing, for it proved memory to 
 be returning; the mind was awakening, so there 
 seemed good reason to hope for the speedy recovery 
 so confidently prophesied. 
 
 But instead of the mind awakening to clearness as 
 was expected, the mania changed to a worse; a homi 
 cidal one ; and during the night, the sharp report of a 
 pistol was heard in Robert's room, and a bullet went 
 whizzing across the bed but a few inches above the 
 young man's head. Had it not been for the untiring 
 vigilance of the watchful servant, he would have been 
 
436 BY EARTHQUAKE AND FIRE 
 
 murdered by the irresponsible mother who had cun 
 ningly eluded the wornout nurse, snatching a bit of 
 needed rest, at her side. For Winnie had stolen from 
 her room and crept behind her passing mistress as 
 stealthily as she, to the bedside of the dozing son, and 
 knocked up the cocked weapon just quick enough to 
 prevent a most pitiable tragedy. 
 
 An immediate removal of his patient from home, 
 was now advised by the astounded physician; but the 
 unwilling son would not consider the proposition, even, 
 until a desperate attempt upon her own life with a long 
 forgotten razor, the following day, had also been 
 foiled. Then, raving and unmanageable, the woman's 
 condition became so dangerous, that for her personal 
 safety, Robert had been forced to consent; and with 
 all possible dispatch, the maniac mother was com 
 mitted to one of the State hospitals for the care of 
 like, poor unfortunates. 
 
CHAPTER XII. 
 
 EARTHQUAKE AND FIRE. 
 
 "During those more than fifty awful seconds, 
 * * * the astounded man * * * lay limp, 
 motionless, breathless; hushed, as it were, by 
 the sense of an awesome Presence, whose com 
 manding: 'Be still! and know that I am God'! 
 he divined rather than heard." 
 
 " 'The city is burning and there is no water! 
 we are doomed! We are doomed!* they cried, 
 with ashen faces." 
 
 Self-condemnation is a goad, 
 
 A scourge of many cords, 
 Which guilty hearts relentless flays, 
 
 Nor peace nor joy affords. 
 What though the injured one forgive, 
 
 Most fully and most free? 
 So long as mine own heart accuse, 
 
 Life's but a Hell for me. 
 
 Lashed by the scourge of an accusing conscience, 
 wrung with contrition for the course of wrong doing 
 which had begat such grievous results, haunted by a 
 never-fading vision of the wild-eyed mother, whom 
 with devoted Winnie as temporary attendant he had 
 that day conveyed to her place of incarceration, Robert 
 Manning, as haggard and emaciated from worry as 
 from loss of sleep and food, was but an unrecogniza- 
 
438 BY EARTHQUAKE AND FIRE 
 
 ble wreck of himself when he reached the city of San 
 Francisco again, upon his return from that repugnant, 
 that gloomy trip. 
 
 It was late evening, when at the city's great thor 
 oughfare world-renowned Market Street he stepped 
 from the closed carriage in which the journey had 
 been made; for he had not yet sufficient command of 
 himself to venture back to the now desolated flat upon 
 the hill, from whence all that had made of it the 
 charming and lovable home that it was, had that day 
 been forcibly removed. 
 
 Not that he willed to drown his sorrow in drink 
 and the game as hitherto ; that inclination was happily 
 now gone from the chastened man, forever. But to 
 spend this -first night there, alone with his unendurable 
 thoughts and memories, spend it upon the scene of 
 the hideous occurrences which had transpired within 
 that home but just now, would drive him too, mad, 
 he felt. "By tomorrow it will be different" ; he com 
 muned with himself; "but tonight, I must have light 
 and sound and people." 
 
 So, although his brain seemed a seven times heated 
 furnace, his head swam, his knees bent under him as 
 he set foot upon the pavement, and he shook as with 
 an ague, the wretched man began a feverish tramping 
 back and forth along the miles of sidewalk flanking 
 the princely street, from the imposing Ferry Building 
 at one end, to Twin Peaks at the other. 
 
 Yet 'light and sound and people' combined, could 
 
EARTHQUAKE AND FIRE 439 
 
 not release his fettered thoughts from the tyrannous 
 thralldom of a few long forgotten, but self-accusing 
 verses, which he remembered to have read some 
 time, somewhere, and which it seemed to him had 
 burned themselves thus deep into his consciousness 
 on purpose to come forth and torture him at this time. 
 For as if written in letters of flame, there danced ever 
 before his eyes as he walked: 
 
 'I made the cross myself, whose weight, 
 
 Was later laid on me. 
 This thought is anguish, as I toil 
 
 Up life's steep Calvary/ 
 
 To think mine own hands drove the nails ! 
 
 I sang a merry song, 
 And chose the heaviest wood I had, 
 
 To make it firm and strong/ 
 
 'Had I but known, had I but dreamed, 
 
 Its weight was meant for me, 
 I would have made a lighter cross, 
 
 To bear up Calvary/ 
 
 O, how perfectly did the incriminating words fit his 
 case. Had he come across them but now, he could 
 have believed a knowledge of his own miserable con 
 duct to have inspired them. And as perfectly as they 
 fitted his case, just so truly did they speak the Ian- 
 
440 BY EARTHQUAKE AND FIRE 
 
 guage of his heart ; for surely, could he have foreseen 
 the bitterness, the possibility of an hour like this, he 
 would have made no such burden for himself to bear. 
 Would it ever be lifted from his shoulders? he won 
 dered. He doubted it; for although the doctors held 
 out still stronger hopes of his mother's recovery under 
 experienced care, and amid such favorable surround 
 ings, they had already been disappointed in their ex 
 pectations, and he had but little faith in any of their 
 opinions now. But even should they be right, he could 
 never forget; and memory would make of life a Hell 
 of Hells for him, hereafter. "No, I shall have to toil 
 on up the thorny steep with my self-imposed burden, 
 to a Golgotha !" he mused, gloomily. 
 
 Once the brooding man wandered to the end of an 
 adjacent wharf and looked longingly into the tempt 
 ing waters ; but a suspicious watchman soon came and 
 ordered him off. And more times than one, he found 
 it all but impossible to refrain from throwing himself 
 before a moving street car; death would have been so 
 welcome. But cowardly self-destruction, he realized 
 in time, would be but his crowning act of selfishness 
 and cruelty; for the only reparation he could now 
 make his wronged mother was to live and care for 
 her to the end, be it longer or shorter ; let the burden 
 of living become ever so intolerable. 
 
 Thus, tortured in mind, undistracted, unsoothed by 
 the noise and glitter all about him, and growing hourly 
 weaker in body he had not tasted food for more than 
 
EARTHQUAKE AND FIRE 441 
 
 two days Robert Manning continued his wearing 
 march up and down the long, lively street; while the 
 usual throng of evening promenaders, grown satisfied 
 or tired, returned to their homes, and the crowds of 
 well-dressed loungers and would-be mashers, also dis 
 appeared from their habitual camping grounds outside 
 the hundreds of elegantly appointed saloons and cigar 
 stalls. And when the streaming thousands from the 
 theatres and concert or lecture halls, proud pater 
 familias with their richly dressed wives and daugh 
 ters, debonair gallants of his own age escorting hand 
 some, smiling young women, groups of frivilous boys 
 and girls conventionally chaperoned, and unattended 
 matrons or spinsters by twos and threes had hurried 
 from the glittering grills, cafes and refreshment par 
 lors to their waiting autos or to catch the late cars, the 
 popular street presented a deserted appearance indeed ; 
 and his continued presence upon it became so conspicu 
 ous, that a good natured policeman upon the beat 
 whom he had already passed many times advised him 
 to follow the example of the rest. 
 
 "Tryin' to walk yer feet off, man?" he ventured, 
 pleasantly. "Better go home and rest a bit." But 
 Robert not without much of effort now, however 
 had continued on past, without so much as raising his 
 head or replying. 
 
 "Poor divil!" muttered the man to himself, pity 
 ingly; "Got no home ter go to, mebbe. He's forlorn 
 lookin' enough to 'ave lost the last friend he had in 
 
442 BY EARTHQUAKE AND FIRE 
 
 the wurruld. Wife's left 'im, I bet; some more of 
 that divilish affinity bisness. Bigger fool he ter worry 
 about 'er ef that's the case; it's a good reddance fer 
 'im. An' he oughten ter hev any trouble pickin' up 
 another bit o' calico, with his years an' figger ! Looks 
 as ef 'e had the chink, too" 
 
 Yet it was long after this, in fact, not until the big 
 hands of the Ferry Tower Clock were pointing to 
 three-thirty, that the 'forlorn lookin' pedestrian, 
 whom he had come to speak of jocosely to himself as 
 'the wandering Jew' from sheer inability to proceed 
 further, suddenly came to an unexpected stop and sank 
 down in a heap besides a lamppost, less than a block 
 away. And perhaps, because he did look 'as ef he Iwd 
 the chink' the big, blue-coated officer had hastened to 
 his aid ; and to his feeble 'a bed,' the exhausted man 
 had been kindly assisted to the nearest desirable place 
 of rest ; one of the larger and better class lodging 
 houses on a 'South of Market' thoroughfare where, 
 fully attired because he was so freezing cold, albeit 
 the night was an unusually warm one, he had crawled 
 in under the ample bed coverings, and was soon bless 
 edly lost to consciousness, sleeping the profound 
 sleep of utter exhaustion, in a small, inside, fifth story 
 room; the only available spot at that late entry into 
 an always crowded house. 
 
 Less than two hours in the arms of Morpheus, how 
 ever, and from this much needed sleep, the weary 
 man was suddenly and rudely awakened to a sensa- 
 
EARTHQUAKE AND FIRE 443 
 
 tion which, for an instant, startled him into the horri 
 fying belief that he had been drinking again; for the 
 bed under him seemed to be gyrating in all directions 
 at once, as though held in the powerful clutches of 
 some angry giant, and, moreover, shaken by him to 
 the full limit of his enraged strength, as viciously as 
 might an excited terrier a captured rat; it was all he 
 could do to hold himself in. 
 
 The furniture of the room was racing about like 
 mad. The massive, old fashioned, walnut bureau with 
 its heavy marble top, had slid across the room and 
 wedged itself tightly in between the door and bed 
 stead. The several toilet articles upon the washstand 
 there was no running water or gas in this seldom 
 used cubby hole went clattering to the floor and were 
 smashed to atoms. The tall chiffonier crashed over 
 on to its face, shivering the beveled mirror into a thou 
 sand fragments. The hanging lamp was swinging so 
 violently, that its heavy brass frame struck with a bang 
 against the opposite walls, twelve feet apart, at each 
 swing; hurling the filled, but fortunately unlighted 
 lamp to the floor. A chimney toppling over on to the 
 roof, sent a shower of mortar and bricks and broken 
 glass through the skylight by which the room was 
 lighted, on to his bed; his face and head as by a 
 miracle escaping unstruck, though his eyes were filled 
 with the blinding dust. 
 
 For it is of the year of our Lord, one thousand nine 
 hundred and six, of which we are now writing, and 
 
444 BY EARTHQUAKE AND FIRE 
 
 of its fateful morning of April the eighteenth. That 
 morning when the mighty forces holding carnival be 
 neath the Earth's crust, had reached forth, gripped a 
 gay city in their titantic embrace, and compelled it, 
 though sleeping, to trip with them a reeling, crazy, 
 bacchanalian measure. 
 
 During those more, than fifty awful seconds, into 
 which the memories and varying emotions of a past, 
 present and future, Time and Eternity, all seemed 
 compressed, the astounded man, having missed the 
 deep, premonitory rumble heard by some less shut in 
 than himself and whose first experience of earthquake 
 shock this was, expecting with each lurch of the sway 
 ing room to meet death 'neath falling walls and ceil 
 ing, and paralyzed with horror at thought of his utter 
 helplessness and inability to escape lay limp, motion 
 less, breathless. Hushed, as it were, by the sense of 
 an awesome Presence; whose commanding 'Be still; 
 and know that I am God !' he divined, rather than 
 heard. 
 
 As abruptly and suddenly as it had come did the 
 dreadful trembler pass; and when motion seemed to 
 have ceased, Robert Manning began a hasty throwing 
 of the confining bricks from off his bed, and with 
 bruised flesh but unbroken bones, got quickly upon his 
 feet; thankful beyond expression to find a reasonably 
 steady foundation beneath them. 
 
 But the very moment of its birth saw his relieved 
 feeling put to rout by a new horror ; the building was 
 
EARTHQUAKE AND FIRE 445 
 
 surely settling, and he must get out of it and on to 
 the street. 
 
 Springing to the door, the terrified man strove to 
 push from before it the displaced bureau, which barred 
 his exit from the room; but the attempt of a puny 
 child to push Gibraltar from its base, might have been 
 almost as prolific of results as his impaired strength 
 upon the unmovable wedge. 
 
 "Oh, what should he do! Must he indeed give up 
 his life in a trap, like this?" was his agonized thought. 
 Not that he now valued it or would shun death. For 
 himself, he could even have welcomed release ; but for 
 the sake of another, he must if possible save this life 
 now in such imminent peril. "But how shall escape 
 be had from this windowless room?" he cried. While 
 down down down went the sinking building, with 
 at least this one of its many hundred occupants, shriek 
 ing wildly but vainly for help. 
 
 Still casting frantically about for some other means 
 of exit, however, Robert's eye went up to the shat 
 tered skylight; and jumping upon the bed, he reached 
 for the unbroken sash. But elevated still a couple of 
 feet above the high ceiling, tall though he was he 
 could not make it. What was to be done? Seconds 
 were eternities to him now, for surely the ground must 
 soon close over the roof of the rapidly lowering house. 
 
 Snatching the thin and well-worn counterpane from 
 the bed, the desperate man tore this into three broad 
 strips which he knotted quickly together. Fastening 
 
446 BY EARTHQUAKE AND FIRE 
 
 the one end securely about his waist, he then sprang 
 again upon the bed, threw the other, rolled into a ball, 
 over the skylight sash, and catching it as it unwound 
 and came back into the room, drew himself up and 
 reached a place of safety upon the roof of the fated 
 building; from whence he leaped quickly to the side 
 walk with which it was by this time on a level only 
 a second or two before it disappeared from sight, 
 swallowed up with most of its guests, like many a 
 neighboring structure, by the made, and now yawning 
 ground, upon which a short moment before it had so 
 firmly stood. 
 
 Coupled with overwhelming gratitude for his own 
 deliverance from the awful death which he saw him 
 self to have so narrowly escaped, there was at once 
 from Robert Manning's heart, an outpouring of deep 
 est thankfulness that his now ungovernable mother 
 had been taken out of the city before this calamity had 
 come upon it; for that it was a calamity, and direful, 
 the scene into which he had stepped most indisputably 
 proved. 
 
 Utterly collapsed, or partially wrecked buildings, 
 dangerously leaning ones, and many unsafe, though 
 apparently intact because still standing, met the eye 
 at every turn. Running the scale from cottage, flat, 
 apartment or rooming house, in the residence portion, 
 to the flimsy structures of the market district, whose 
 sudden, simultaneous fall at that early hour had 
 caused the death of hosts of market-men, buyers and 
 
EARTHQUAKE AND FIRE 447 
 
 horses and the handsome, many-storied temples to 
 Mammon, in the business center; glaring evidences of 
 the havoc wrought. While tons upon tons of debris 
 lay piled up in the streets, a conglomerate mass of 
 building material, from which a choking white dust 
 yet lingered in the air and every variety of house 
 hold and office equipment. Telling in part, the great 
 money loss which had been entailed upon the unfor 
 tunate community. 
 
 Miles of wrenched, twisted street car rails, still 
 clung fantastically to upheaved or depressed roadbeds. 
 While frequent gaping fissures in the ground, wit 
 nessed to the writhing contortions of the powers be 
 low, so recently ended; for the big clock down the 
 street had stopped at exactly 5:13, and it was now but 
 four minutes later by his own still ticking watch. 
 
 Thousands of scantily dressed men, women and chil 
 dren, who had fled terror stricken from their homes 
 or temporary lodgings into the open, were about him ; 
 their blanched cheeks and hushed voices bearing un 
 spoken testimony to an overwhelming sense of en 
 counter with the Infinite. Members of unbroken fami 
 lies silently embraced, faintly smiling into each other's 
 eyes the joy and thankfulness their over- full hearts 
 forbade them to utter; while members of others less 
 fortunate and oppressed with fear, ran wildly about, 
 eagerly searching hither and yon among the agitated 
 throng, for a missing loved one. And many, alas! 
 
448 BY EARTHQUAKE AND FIRE 
 
 with streaming eyes and quivering lips, mourned for 
 the dying and the dead. It was a weird, awful, heart- 
 clutching, never-to-be-forgotten scene. 
 
 Yet, in the main, they were huddled together in 
 unemotional groups, commenting in low tones upon 
 what had occurred, and waiting, with dread expect 
 ancy written upon their faces, for what? More, 
 surely; perhaps even worse. For the strange dead- 
 ness, the oppressive, unnatural stillness of the at 
 mosphere, boded no good. 
 
 Nearly three hours of this tense waiting, and then 
 came another and final frightening upheaval, which, 
 by razing the many previously weakened structures, 
 increased the mortality, and completed the work of 
 demolition by earthquake. 
 
 But long ere this, a new cause for alarm had arisen. 
 In fact, the first and great temblor was but passed, 
 before dozens of fires had broken out in the Southern 
 and Eastern sections of the city ; and soon great banks 
 of smoke, hung like a pall against the sky, hazily 
 obscuring the early morning Sun. Yet no real 
 anxiety had been felt at first, for San Francisco's con 
 fidence in the skill, valor, and prowess, of its superior 
 Fire Department, was as great and unshakable as its 
 pride was infinite and pardonable. 
 
 At length, however, a shout of horror went up. 
 The city is burning and there is no water! we are 
 doomed! we are doomed! they cried, with ashen faces. 
 
EARTHQUAKE AND FIRE 449 
 
 For broken mains could supply no water to fireplugs; 
 and this valiant band of fire-fighters (as brave as the 
 bravest ever), though battling like demons with axe 
 and pick and spade, could not long stay a very tempest 
 of flame, with empty hose. 
 
 Then it was that a few half-clad families, fleeing 
 empty-handed for their very lives to the higher 
 ground, became the vanguard of that continuous, 
 homogeneous procession of impoverished, but un 
 daunted ones who, for more than two days and nights, 
 kept up a constant retreating from one point of sup 
 posed safety to another, before the insidious approach 
 and shriveling heat of the insatiable fire ; 
 
 Moving onward, ever onward, uncomplaining, calm, 
 Grateful for each offered kindness and its healing 
 
 balm; 
 Scant of dress, begrimed and wearied, their belongings 
 
 few, 
 Oft with La-res and Pe-na-tes hugged to bosoms true. 
 
 Until, footsore and exhausted, upwards of three 
 hundred thousand homeless, hungry people, had at 
 last reached places of safety and rest, upon the soft, 
 white sands of the ocean's beach, or the green swards 
 of the out-lying parks and pleasure grounds. 
 
 During that fearful baptism, the subject of these 
 pages had borne himself like a very hero ; 'a workman 
 
450 BY EARTHQUAKE AND FIRE 
 
 that needeth not to be ashamed.' Fever burned in 
 his veins; his famished stomach clamored for long 
 denied food; but once more his old unselfish self, he 
 heeded them not. From the very moment of his 
 escape from the sinking prison in which he had been 
 caught, gratitude for the safety of himself and his, 
 had found expression in the performance of innumer 
 able praiseworthy deeds of mercy and duty. 
 
 All through that first long, exhausting forenoon, he 
 had been seen in the thick and front of a noble army 
 of Good Samaritans who, taking their lives in their 
 hands, forced their way to the relief of the needy; 
 'neath leaning walls, up tottering staircases, past dart 
 ing tongues of flame and through clouds of suffocat 
 ing smoke, releasing the pinioned and imprisoned, 
 tenderly raising the helpless wounded and sick and 
 sending them where healing and care might be found, 
 soothing and ministering to the dying, and reverently 
 closing the eyes and screening the set faces of the 
 dead from the curious gaze of the vulgar and the 
 heat and glare of the Sun, snatched yet a moment to 
 lay their lifeless bodies out of the path of the crazed 
 and hurrying throngs. 
 
 Then when the early afternoon had witnessed the 
 unexpected leaping of the mighty conflagration over 
 the supposed impassable barriers to its progress, and 
 the ravenous flames began a mad rush in the direction 
 of his own place of business, Robert had hastened 
 
EARTHQUAKE AND FIRE 451 
 
 thither; and for five long hours had labored cease 
 lessly and alone, to save the valuable books and docu 
 ments. For aside from himself, there was not a 
 trusted attache of the place his employer included 
 who did not make their homes in one or other of the 
 city's big bedrooms across the bay. 
 
 Back and forth the faithful young man hurried, 
 carrying his heavy loads often through crackling lanes 
 of fire, his life constantly endangered by falling tim 
 bers and crumbling walls. Climbing over great piles 
 of smoking masonry, and picking his difficult way 
 through tangles of twisted iron he went, until, with 
 the thrill of satisfaction that accompanies fancied 
 security in such a situation, he had settled down finally 
 to mount guard over his treasures, blocks beyond the 
 danger line. 
 
 But a fire which consumed a building a minute, and 
 as though 'twere a thinking intelligence, again and 
 again doubled back upon its track or made wide de 
 tours, to lick up whatever food for flame had been 
 overlooked in its first furious onslaught, was not to 
 be thus cheated of its coveted prey; and after com 
 pelling three such onerous moves, at last, gloatingly 
 snatched his treasures from under the very nose of 
 their routed custodian. 
 
 Heartsick at the final failure of his important un 
 dertaking, yet comforted, perforce, by the sense of a 
 noble duty well done, Robert Manning, for the first 
 
452 BY EARTHQUAKE AND FIRE 
 
 time, now felt himself free to think of his own home 
 upon the brow of a centrally located hill, well on to 
 a mile away; and towards this he now bent his steps. 
 It was a long, hard climb for the wornout limbs, and 
 yet to turn his back for a little upon the roar and hiss 
 of the maddening blaze, and exchange the harrowing 
 scenes of the day for those less awful and depressing, 
 was relieving; for, although evidences in plenty of 
 the disastrous work of disturbed Nature were not 
 lacking even in this more favored locality, his eyes 
 were here spared the dismal sight of gutted buildings 
 and blackened walls, and battalions of half-crazed 
 fellow creatures in precipitate flight. 
 
 "Surely God has been good to us up here!" he ex 
 claimed, at sight of the trifling loss in his own home. 
 And when he had looked down from his point of 
 vantage upon the many bare, smouldering miles that 
 had been devastated between sun-up and sun-down, 
 he exclaimed again and gratefully, "Yes, God has been 
 very good to us!" 
 
 The dark of evening had now fallen, but the 
 reflection from the lurid skies furnished abundant il 
 lumination ; ample substitute for an unobtainable, even 
 if not forbidden light, in the house; and making his 
 way without difficulty to the well filled cupboards, 
 Robert essayed to eat. But the sight of food now 
 sickened, and the famished man turned from it with 
 loathing. 
 
EARTHQUAKE AND FIRE 453 
 
 "It will come in good when Winnie gets back to 
 morrow," he soliloquized, as he locked and left the 
 house; for while he no longer shrank from remaining 
 in it, and the comfortable bed looked almost irre 
 sistibly tempting to his weary frame, both the mind 
 and body of the really ailing man were now so 
 wrought up, so in commotion, that to sleep were im 
 possible. 
 
 Picking his way therefore down again through the 
 deserted streets of the hill, Robert returned to the 
 lower levels which skirted the raging holocaust. Back 
 to where the fear-filled populace nervous though 
 strangely calm peopled the glowing streets, or kept 
 guard over their possessions in the near-by parks and 
 city squares, which now seemed like vast department 
 stores, so crammed were they with their varied as 
 sortment of household effects and personal belongings. 
 
 Mingling with the surging multitudes for further 
 kindly service as occasion arose, the lone young man 
 spent the night with them in the out-of-doors; now 
 moving on to places of greater safety, at the com 
 mand of the dynamiting crews, now apprehensively 
 watching the steady encroachments of their implacable 
 foe. Again, chained to the spot by a compelling 
 fascination for the awful grandeur of the spectacle 
 under the canopy of night, as the rapacious flames 
 sprung with fiendish ferocity from building to build 
 ing, tauntingly thrusting their angry, forked tongues 
 
454 BY EARTHQUAKE AND FIRE 
 
 through the charring doorways and casements of story 
 after story, to burst at last with triumphant hiss 
 through the dismembered roofs and shoot defiantly 
 upward, as though to scorch the very heavens them 
 selves ; already apparently in a blaze. While from time 
 to time, their sympathetic interest would center in 
 accounts which now began to filter in, of the amount 
 of damage done by the great Earthquake, elsewhere. 
 
 It was not until almost dawn of the following 
 morning, however, that news was received which 
 caused Robert Manning to so conduct himself for a 
 while, as to be considered by those near at hand a 
 victim of the disaster who had suddenly lost his mind. 
 With cheeks ablaze with fever, and in the throes of 
 a consequent splitting headache, he had but just be 
 fore dropped down upon one of the much trampled 
 grass plots of a little park; for the long protesting 
 limbs had at last refused to support him longer. 
 Seated near, two men eagerly scanned a copy of an 
 evening paper, just received in a roundabout way 
 from one of the trans-bay cities; when suddenly, one 
 of the twain exclaimed with horror, "Oh! here's the 
 very worst yet! A hundred and fifty of the inmates 
 killed, many escaped, and the buildings a total wreck ! 
 Poor Agnews!" 
 
 "Agnews, man!" shrieked Robert Manning, wildly; 
 springing from the ground at mention of the name. 
 ''What about Agnews? Give me that paper!" And 
 
EARTHQUAKE AND FIRE 455 
 
 snatching the sheet from the hands of his astonished 
 neighbor, he read the shocking news. 
 
 "AGNEWS INSANE ASYLUM TOTALLY 
 WRECKED. 
 
 ONE HUNDRED AND FIFTY PATIENTS, TWO DOCTORS, AND 
 MANY ATTENDANTS KILLED, AND HUNDREDS IN 
 JURED DANGEROUS MANIACS HANDCUFFED 
 
 AND CHAINED TO TREES IN THE GROUNDS 
 
 A SCORE HAVE ESCAPED BALANCE 
 
 OF THE TWELVE HUNDRED IN 
 MATES GATHERED IN PENS 
 AND STRONGLD GUARDED. 
 
 Marvelous heroism and noble conduct of those in 
 charge!" 
 
 As thou it had stung him, did the crazed man drop 
 the unoffending Herald from his hands, and forgetting 
 thanks or an apology to its owner for his rudeness, 
 or to pick up the derby laid aside to cool his burning 
 brow, bolted from the spot as though pursued by all 
 the Furies of an Inferno, and made for the nearest 
 livery. 
 
 But no conveyance was to be had here, for many 
 of the horses had been killed and coaches smashed, 
 
 *The above announcement is quoted verbatim from sheet 
 of that date still in possession of the author, who later 
 verified the statement by inquiry of the Asylum management. 
 
456 BY EARTHQUAKE AND FIRE 
 
 by the collapse of most of the walls during the morn 
 ing's temblor. Nor did any better success attend his 
 applications elsewhere, for where stocks had not been 
 destroyed, they had either been given or impressed 
 for use by the authorities; neither was there an auto 
 obtainable at any of the garages visited. So in de 
 spair, Robert at last set out on foot for the scene of 
 the blood-curdling happenings some fifty miles away, 
 of which he had read, and which concerned him so 
 vitally. 
 
 Spurred on by the exigencies of the case and tem 
 porarily fortified with the unnatural strength of fever, 
 he sped along at an incredible pace, walking when he 
 must, riding when he could. And several acceptable 
 even though short lifts, were given the hatless, gaunt 
 looking man as he got out into the open country ; his 
 grimy appearance from the unusual labors of the day 
 before, and the pitiful look of terror which shot from 
 his eyes, stamping him a demented refugee, his con 
 dition called forth naught but kindness from all. 
 
 And to them all, as to himself when alone, he talked 
 unceasingly, though seldom coherently; for he could 
 not allow himself quiet in which to think of the hor 
 rifying circumstances which must await him at his 
 Mecca. Death, manacles and chains, escape, bodily 
 injury, whatever it might be, the responsibility for 
 it, the sin of it, lay at his door; and he dared not dwell 
 upon the frenzying thought, made a thousand-fold 
 more maddening by remembrance of the undamaged 
 home, in which had been found perfect safety. 
 
EARTHQUAKE AND FIRE 457 
 
 When the distance had been about half covered, 
 continued efforts along the road to secure some means 
 of transportation were rewarded with success; and 
 by doubling the hire asked, that last installment was 
 made in such good time, that five hours from the 
 beginning, found the distracted man at the end of 
 his harrowing journey. 
 
 When he leaped from the still quivering buggy, 
 and rushing into the improvised office of the wrecked 
 institution, pallid as marble, his whole frame visibly 
 trembling like an Aspen, and in a hoarse whisper of 
 inquiry attempted to ask for news of his stricken 
 mother, he could not so much as articulate her name. 
 
 But he was known to the attendants, and for answer 
 to his look of agonized query, he was led to a tent 
 close by and shown that mother, unhurt in body, and 
 mercifully clothed anew with the priceless garment of 
 her own right mind, skillfully assisting the nurses to 
 care for the injured. 
 
 A moral shock had deprived of reason in an instant ; 
 a material one had restored it as suddenly and com 
 pletely. And when Robert's incredulous eyes had 
 seen what great things the Lord had done, overcome 
 with emotion he faltered, brokenly, "Surely God has 
 been good to me! Yes, God has been very 
 good to" 
 
 But the devout acknowledgment was never con 
 cluded; for outraged Nature at last asserting herself, 
 her transgressor dropped unconscious to the floor. 
 
458 BY EARTHQUAKE AND FIRE 
 
 That evening, a closed carriage was seen leaving 
 the grounds of the Agnews Asylum for the Insane, 
 occupied by the same three: a mother, a son, and a 
 devoted servant, who but two days before, in a similar 
 carriage, had made a repugnant and gloomy trip from 
 the county of San Francisco, down into the county of 
 Santa Clara. But the horses drawing this carriage 
 were headed in the opposite direction; and the jour 
 ney, though a sorrowful and anxious one, could not 
 be repugnant or gloomy, for now it was being made 
 by a sane mother, taking to his own home a son, who, 
 though stricken in body, was yet blessedly, of sound 
 mind. 
 
CHAPTER XIII. 
 
 REFUGEES A VICTIM A CONFESSION. 
 
 "So the little family * * * was obliged to 
 join the vast army of refugees * * * and 
 become pensioners of the world's unstinted 
 bounty.** 
 
 " 'Both iv 'er legs is bruk, savin' yer pris- 
 ince and sumthin' inside, too, the docther 
 thinks-' " 
 
 " 'I literally tortured my sweet, young charge 
 into compliance with my wish.' " 
 
 When Robert Manning walked out of the burning 
 city, twenty-four hours after its rough-housing by 
 Nature, nearly one-third of its area was a desolate 
 waste; an untraversable wilderness of smouldering 
 ruins. Nothing but cellars filled with mountains of 
 debris, from which yet issued flame and smoke, and 
 frowning walls, told where its houses of business had 
 once stood. Of its houses of worship, education, news, 
 healing, mercy, mirth, or public accommodation, still 
 less marked the former sites of by far the greater 
 number; while virtually all of its banks, factories 
 and shops, and two-thirds of its humbler dwellings, 
 besides its notorious 'Chinatown,' had been swept 
 from off the city's map; these all having occupied 
 the lower level grounds and modest heights, of its 
 Southern and Southwestern extremities. 
 
 And still the progress of the great fire was un- 
 
4<50 BY EARTHQUAKE AND FIRE 
 
 checked. A roaring, seething furnace of flame still 
 forged steadily ahead, notwithstanding the dogged 
 persistence of the brave fire-laddies, and the assisting 
 volunteers who so nobly recruited their thinned ranks ; 
 all of whom, grimy and haggard, with fainting 
 stomach, parched throat and tongue, and blistering 
 hand, still clung like leeches to their assigned posts 
 of duty, furiously wielding their inadequate weapons 
 of attack. 
 
 Yet that it could continue its advance until it had 
 swept up the central eminences, and still further 
 glutted itself upon the more pretentious homes of 
 this strictly residential quarter, not omitting even the 
 mansions of many of the very wealthy which sat in 
 such crowning splendor upon the pinnacles of its 
 highest hills, was deemed impossible. And this pre 
 sumption of the absolute safety of this neighborhood 
 the one in which he himself lived had come as a 
 comforting thought to the toiling son more than once 
 through the varying situations of the trying day; for 
 when the absent mother should one day return to her 
 home as he would have her, and tried to hope it 
 might be, to find everything as it had been of old 
 would surely enhance the pleasure of that home 
 coming. "And perchance," thought he, "we might 
 even decide to stay, now, and profit by growing up 
 with the greater city, already being talked of and 
 planned for." 
 
 But when the young man was driven back into it 
 
REFUGEES A VICTIM 461 
 
 less than a day later, the costly palaces, with their 
 invaluable treasures and works of Art, had fed the 
 flames, too; the burnt area had been doubled; while 
 still, blocks ahead, could be heard the continuous 
 boom, boom, of the wrecking crews, telling of the 
 appalling amount of preventive demolition of what 
 men call, worth while, yet going on. And even had 
 he been conscious, he could not have located the exact 
 site of his own home ; for nothing but ashes and cin 
 ders now covered the spot. 
 
 So the unfortunate little family, homeless, and for 
 the time, destitute, with the man upon whom it could 
 have leant laid low by illness, was obliged to join the 
 vast army of Refugees, and become tent-dwellers in 
 one of the many now thickly populated city parks; 
 places where, for months afterward, the one-time rich 
 and the always poor, saint and sinner, learned and ig 
 norant, the cultured and the uncouth, dwelt amicably 
 together side by side, in the inclusive bonds of frater 
 nal good fellowship. 
 
 Much of needless privation if not of actual distress, 
 would surely have been the lot of the Mannings at 
 this time, had they been alone; for though of neces 
 sity, for a spell, pensioners of the world's unstinted 
 bounty, and grateful ones, too they would natur 
 ally have been of the number to shrink from making 
 their wants known. But now, the capable, old servant 
 of a lifetime, became literally the head of the house. 
 For Robert like Peter's wife's mother lay sick of 
 
462 BY EARTHQUAKE AND FIRE 
 
 a fever; and while the mistress watched and tended, 
 she it was who kept the strange machinery of the new 
 manner of existence, well oiled and running smoothly. 
 
 It was Winnie, who took her place in the long, 
 tiresome bread-lines of daily sustenance; always with 
 senses alert and tongue quick to speak up for a prom 
 ising tid-bit for her beloved mistress. Winnie, who 
 ran blocks with her can, to secure a share of the 
 scanty milk supply for her sick young master. Wm- 
 nie, who always managed somehow to learn whenever 
 and wherever supplies of wearing apparel or house 
 hold necessities, were to be given out, and managed 
 also to be first in at the distribution, for the sake of 
 her precious charges. Yes, and it was Winnie, who 
 finally lifted them both out of the Slough of Despond, 
 so to speak and brought peace and happiness to 
 others long strangers to it, as well. For with the big 
 heart and loquacious tongue of the race from whence 
 she had sprung, the woman could not be other than 
 sociable; and it was this very sociableness which did 
 it all. 
 
 Now the forming of new acquaintanceships by 
 many, at this time, without the formality of an intro 
 duction, was but a natural sequence from the meeting 
 with the same people daily, in the long lines before 
 the relief stations. For the tedium of the always slow 
 advance must be lessened, and as best it could; ordi 
 nary human nature could not have stood the strain, 
 otherwise. And by the law of natural selection, like 
 
REFUGEES A VICTIM 463 
 
 drawing to itself like, Winnie McCaffrey was not long 
 in rinding a congenial coterie of her own class; and 
 her exceptionally gruesome experience of the disaster 
 was always listened to with such flattering attention, 
 that the poor soul gradually came to take even a cer 
 tain pride in having it to relate. 
 
 Not that this woman, alone, or above all others, 
 was given to dwelling upon the calamity. Far from 
 it; for in those early post-earthquake and fire days, 
 there was place for no other thought or subject, in 
 the minds and upon the tongues of its victims of all 
 classes, than the sensations and incidents of those 
 three terrible days and worse nights. And not only 
 was the fabric of good manners frequently strained 
 to the tearing point and beyond by the overpower 
 ing temptation to break in upon the harrowing recital 
 of another, with an account of 'how me and mine felt 
 and did/ but the spirit of Ananias seemed also some 
 what abroad in the land, it must be admitted. Yet 
 who could not forgive a breach of etiquette, or even 
 an occasional careless handling of the truth, by a peo 
 ple who had been subjected to so long and fierce a 
 mental and nervous strain. It was well, perhaps, that 
 they should talk, anyway ; for : 
 
 'The grief that does not speak, 
 
 Whispers the o'er-fraught heart and bids it break.' 
 
 In this way, four weeks of community life had 
 
464 BY EARTHQUAKE AND FIRE 
 
 passed, and with them had passed the crisis in Robert 
 Manning's sickness, also ; for the consuming fever had 
 burned itself out, and the period of convalescence 
 having set in with none but favorable symptoms, great 
 joy and thanksgiving pervaded the little household. 
 
 One morning about this time, Winnie McCaffrey 
 appeared in the presence of her mistress, bringing 
 a very moving tale about an injured woman, then lying 
 in a hopeless condition in a humble home a little far 
 ther out. 
 
 "I seen the gur'l many times befure in the 
 line, an' it's a likely lukin' lass she is, too" ; was the 
 way the soft-hearted creature prefaced her story 
 "but niver got ter shpake wid 'er ontil this blessed 
 mornin'. They're sthoppin' wid an' owld woman as 
 
 kapes a little shop out on G Street; the gur'ls 
 
 aunt an' shure it's there she was afther carryin' 'er 
 misthres in 'er own arrums that mornin', wanst they 
 got 'er out, an's ben a takin' care iv 'er iver sense; 
 God bless 'er! The side o' the house fell in onto 'er 
 in bed," she paused to explain, hurriedly, "an' both 
 iv 'er legs is bruk, saving yer prisince an' sumthin' 
 inside, too, the doctor thinks, for it's cupfuls o' blud 
 she's ben a spittin' up iver sence. She only cum from 
 Shecargo a few months back wurse luck! an' wuz 
 kapin' a shwell boordin' house down town, loike she 
 did afore she cum here. Mary Lanigan's ben a wurk- 
 in' fer 'er back there these four years gone, an' luvs 
 'er most as much, it looks loike, as / do yer own purty 
 
REFUGEES A VICTIM 465 
 
 self, me darlint. The poor craythur can't live much 
 longer the docther's afeerd, an' I'm a thinkin' she 
 must git orful lonesome fer sum-un ter talk ter. Av 
 coorse, there's Mary an' the owld woman, but none 
 iv 'er own kind, I mane. May-be yer'd loike ter be 
 goin' ter cheer 'er up a 1 bit yerself this afternoon, me 
 darlint. Yer kin thrust Masther Robert wid me, now." 
 
 "Why certainly, Winnie, I'd be very glad to go if 
 I thought I could be of any comfort to the poor 
 woman" ; replied the attentive listener ; her lively sym 
 pathy all astir at the sad tale of suffering and loneli 
 ness. "It seems a very delicate thing though to thrust 
 one's self upon a perfect stronger unasked" ; she con 
 tinued, hesitatingly. "It might be an unwelcome in 
 trusion. I hardly know how I should feel myself 
 under such circumstances." 
 
 "Now don't you be afeerd about the introosion part 
 iv it, me darlint. I know she'll be glad ter see yer, 
 fer wasn't the gur'l herself afther tellin' me that she 
 knew 'er misthress was jist a pinin' fer sum'un ter 
 talk ter?" persisted the servant. 
 
 "Well, what's the lady's name, Winnie?" 
 
 "Shure the gur'l niver wanst mintioned it, an* I 
 niver thought ter ask, me darlint" ; confessed the other, 
 rather sheepishly. "But 'er own name's Mary Lani- 
 gan, annyway," she continued, brightening, an' it's a 
 little shop, an' the number's 2000, an' yer can't miss 
 it, nohow"; she explained, volubly. 
 
 Surely there is 'a, Divinity that shapes our ends.' 
 
466 BY EARTHQUAKE AND FIRE 
 
 Margaret Manning was not now being led by pure 
 accident, as it would appear, to the bedside of the very 
 woman of all others, who for six long years she had 
 been wishing most anxiously to meet. For this seri 
 ously injured victim of the dreadful Earthquake, was 
 none other than our old acquaintance, Mrs. George 
 Benedict Nichols, formerly of Chicago. Aunt of Alice 
 Nichols and the late Gerald Harding; whose untruth 
 ful, dastardly letter, announcing the marriage of her 
 nephew with the fiancee of Robert Manning which 
 the reader will now call to mind had robbed the 
 trusting heart of the youth of his faith in womankind, 
 and in so doing, had hardened it, and paved the way 
 for the long train of evil consequences that ensued. 
 Yet nothing could have wrung from her the ques 
 tion by which she sought to vindicate her never- 
 wavering faith in the dearly loved daughter of her 
 deceased friend, when opportunity thus, at last, un 
 expectedly offered. For out of her kindness of heart, 
 Mrs. Manning had acted upon the thoughtful sug 
 gestion of her maid, without delay ; and when ushered 
 into the presence of the unknown sufferer, with an 
 apology and explanation ready to offer for her intru 
 sion her astonishment to find here the old-time friend 
 was perhaps the greater of the two, although the sur 
 prise was a shock to both women; almost too great 
 for the sick one. 
 
 The consideration which sealed the lips of the one, 
 however, was equalled by the tact and magnanimity 
 
REFUGEES A VICTIM 467 
 
 of the other; who, when her nerves had grown some 
 what steadier again, as she listened to her caller's 
 tender out-pouring of sympathy and anxious wish to 
 be of assistance in some way, soon inquired after the 
 son. ''He is married by this time, I suppose?" she 
 ventured. 
 
 "No, I am so fortunate as to have Robert all to my 
 self yet," answered the mother, "and I hardly think 
 he will ever marry"; she added, cheerfully; with a 
 generous pretense as though naturally well pleased at 
 the prospect. Upon hearing which, Mrs. Nichols, en 
 feebled though she was, launched at once into the 
 subject of his jilting; confessing her sole responsi 
 bility for it, and frankly stating the reason. 
 
 Vividly and at length did she rehearse the long, 
 heart-rending struggle of the distracted girl between 
 love and duty ; in no wise sparing herself, as she told 
 of the exacted promise of an immediate and full ex 
 planation to Robert, through a letter to the mother, 
 and of her intended and diabolical breaking of that 
 satisfying promise. Of their intercepted letters to 
 Alice she next confessed, and then referred, with 
 shame, to the final writing of her own abominable mis 
 leading one. 
 
 "Yes, Mrs. Manning," concluded the repentant 
 woman, visibly shuddering at the remembrance, "I 
 literally tortured my sweet young charge into com 
 pliance with my wish, and then, after cruelly robbing 
 her of the sweetest and most precious experience life 
 
468 BY EARTHQUAKE AND FIRE 
 
 could ever give, marriage with the life-long lover in 
 whom her fresh young heart was in turn, inseparably 
 bound up, I crowned my selfish work by infamously 
 casting suspicion upon her truthfulness and loyalty; 
 and I have not known a single happy hour since. As 
 I have looked back from time to time upon the dis 
 tressing occurrence, it has seemed impossible that it 
 could have been reality; that it must all have been a 
 shocking dream. For loving Alice to the extent I did, 
 how I could ever have brought myself to the perform 
 ance of such a cruel act, I have never since been able 
 to determine. But oh, life is such a complex combina 
 tion of possibles," she continued, as though lamely 
 seeking even now, to justify her 'cruel act' "and what 
 will a woman not do or dare for the sake of the man 
 whom she deeply loves? Could we but love with the 
 heart and head at one and the same moment," she 
 finished, musingly, "how much misery the world would 
 be spared." 
 
 The enlightened visitor now considerately arose to 
 take her leave ; for although the call had been a short 
 one, its shock and agitating nature had made it full 
 long for the sick woman, who nevertheless, in her 
 exhaustion, yet voiced the deep joy of heart their 
 Providential meeting had brought. "For the end is 
 not far distant," she sighed, "and I shall die a relieved 
 and far happier woman now that I have been per 
 mitted to set my dear girl right in your eyes. If I 
 could but see her once more, and hear her sweet voice 
 
REFUGEES A VICTIM 469 
 
 say, 'I forgive you, Aunt Alice,' I think I could leave 
 the world contented." 
 
 "I have never been able to bring myself to doubt 
 Alice, Mrs. Nichols," now offered the other, consol 
 ingly, "for I knew her beautiful nature too well; and 
 I have always felt that we should hear a justifiable 
 reason for her extraordinary action, some day. Robert's 
 faith, though, was unfortunately, so shaken, that her 
 name has not passed between us for years; so I am 
 naturally more than thankful for our unexpected meet 
 ing, and to you for your magnanimity and unselfish 
 confidence. Which could not have come at a more 
 opportune time, either," she went on, "for Robert is 
 but just now recovering from a severe attack of ty 
 phoid; and this assurance of Alice's fidelity and love, 
 will be the most effective tonic we could give him." 
 And leaving her afflicted friend, with the promise of 
 daily visits thereafter, the lighthearted mother sped 
 rejoicing to the bedside of her waiting son. 
 
 "Could you stand a very happy surprise, dear?" she 
 asked with eagerness ; a more than usually happy smile 
 illuminating her loving face, as she took the maid's 
 place beside him. 
 
 "Sure, mother, and glad to have it" ; replied the con 
 valescing one ; his hollow eyes lighting up with pleased 
 expectancy, as he laid an emaciated hand in that of his 
 parent. "It wouldn't be you to bring me any other 
 kind." 
 
 "Well then, I shall have to tell you in the beginning 
 
470 BY EARTHQUAKE AND FIRE 
 
 who the injured stranger upon whom I have been call 
 ing proved to be" ; commenced the mother. "That of 
 itself will surprise you as much as it did me, I fancy." 
 
 But at the first mention of the long tabooed name 
 of "Nichols," Robert Manning's face instantly dark 
 ened; the old, hard look at once crept back into his 
 eyes, supplanting the pleased expectancy by which they 
 had been momentarily lighted, and a silencing hand 
 began to go up in immediate protest. But with an 
 appealing, "Hear me to the end, dear," the mother 
 pressed it gently back upon the coverlet, and continued 
 her recital, until she had repeated, in full, the story 
 of the cruelty and perfidy of the aunt, and the touch 
 ing fidelity of the sacrificed niece. 
 
 Gradually had the hard look died out of the eyes of 
 the sick man as the unusual tale grew, while the an 
 tagonistic expression upon his face was succeeded, in 
 turn, by those of astonishment, incredulity, indigna 
 tion, yearning, and at last, by the most withering self 
 reproach; but not until the pitiful story was finished 
 did he attempt to speak. Then with not unmanly 
 tears dimming his eyes and a voice far from steady 
 he broke out remorsefully, "And her heart was mine 
 all the time, and yet I doubted her? Oh, my dear, 
 szveet Alice!" he moaned; now covering his convulsed 
 face with shaking hands, "that I could doubt you, 
 proves me to have been unworthy of you ; and yet, the 
 agonizing rack upon which my tortured heart has been 
 bound all these bitter years, has been, that even though 
 doubting, I could not cease to love you !" 
 
REFUGEES A VICTIM 471 
 
 Margaret Manning had delicately withdrawn from 
 the presence of her son, leaving him alone, for a little, 
 with his overpowering emotions. As she came back 
 to him he questioned eagerly, "Where is she mother? 
 I must have her forgiveness for the great wrong I 
 have been doing her." 
 
 "That I did not learn, Son, although I longed to 
 ask; for the short interview was of course very even 
 dangerously agitating to Mrs. Nichols, I feared, and 
 in fact, I made several, though unsuccessful attempts 
 to end it, even before I had heard as much as I did ; 
 and yet the tardy confession seemed so relieving, that 
 I could but let her go on. However, I have promised 
 to sit with her a part of each day hereafter, and if 
 she seems to me able tomorrow, I will try to find that 
 out. She is a very sick woman though, Robert, and 
 it breaks my heart that we have not a home to offer 
 her. I am very glad, however, that she seems to be 
 in good and loving hands." 
 
 Now to learn that Robert Manning was yet a single 
 man, had proven the most acceptable news, and in 
 spiriting, that could have been brought to remorseful 
 Mrs. Nichols; for reparation might now be made for 
 the great wrong that she had done him. All through 
 the weary, wakeful hours of the night following her 
 encounter with the mother, this thought had imparted 
 strength to bear her great physical sufferings; and 
 when her caller returned on the morrow, bringing 
 some sick-room dainties the warm-hearted Winnie 
 
472 BY EARTHQUAKE AND FIRE 
 
 had managed to prepare happily smiling, despite her 
 pain and weakness, her first words of greeting were 
 "They may have each other yet, Mrs. Manning !" 
 
 There was of course, no need to inquire who 'they' 
 referred to; and in quick surprise the other eagerly 
 asked, "How so, Mrs. Nichols? Why what do you 
 mean?" And was told that Alice was free again. 
 "My nephew was accidentally killed last year"; ex 
 plained the woman. 
 
 "You are quite sure of this ?" exclaimed the mother. 
 "Oh, then tell me where she may be found, that I may 
 bring her to my unhappy boy!" she implored, alto 
 gether forgetting a proper expression of condolence 
 to the bereaved aunt, in her selfish joy at the prospect 
 of such unlocked for happiness for her own son. 
 
 "Just where Alice is at this time is a little hard to 
 say, for since her marriage I have seen but little of 
 her; the earlier years having been lived abroad, and 
 later, she has been in the East, where I have never 
 visited her. For although the dear girl urged me to 
 accept a home with her after my husband's death, I 
 could not bring myself to do so, but have been pro 
 viding for myself; so have found but little time for 
 going about. Her last letter, however, stated that she 
 was going to Paris to live, and would take her leave 
 of America the middle of April; and I should no 
 doubt have had mail with a European address before 
 now, if it had not been for our calamity here. But it 
 is liable to come any day, you know." 
 
REFUGEES A VICTIM 473 
 
 "Paris will be none too large a place for Robert 
 to find her in, even without an address; returned the 
 mother confidently ; "and with such a quest in store, it 
 will not be long either, before he is able to start upon 
 it. I don't know how to thank you as I would, Mrs. 
 Nichols," she went on to say, gratefully pressing the 
 feeble hand that she had been holding as they talked 
 "for the joy and comfort your new ground for hope 
 will be to us. If I could only do something to relieve 
 your sufferings, I should be so happy. Are you quite 
 satisfied with your physician ? And has he ever called 
 any one else in consultation ?" she finished, solicitously. 
 
 "Yes, I am perfectly satisfied Mrs. Manning, for 
 Doctor Woods is an able man, as you know, and I 
 feel sure is doing all that could be done for me. I 
 have finally consented to his bringing a friend to con 
 sult with him tomorrow, however; an eminent physi 
 cian from the East, somewhere, who was taking a 
 little rest in the South, it seems, and came up from 
 Los Angeles with the first trainload of doctors and 
 nurses. Dr. Woods is very anxious to have his opinion 
 of my case, but I feel sure that it will be useless"; 
 she added, hopelessly. "I thank you for your interest 
 though, and your visits have done me a world of good. 
 I shall see you again tomorrow, I hope?" 
 
 Now it had been by no means an easy matter for 
 Robert Manning to possess his soul in patience, dur 
 ing this somewhat longer absence of his mother at her 
 second call upon their unfortunate friend ; so when she 
 
474 BY EARTHQUAKE AND FIRE 
 
 at length returned and entered the tent in which he 
 lay, the hollow eyes with which he searched her ex 
 pressive face for the information craved, were as 
 living interrogation points, while he exclaimed, tremu 
 lously, "I know it's good news you bring me, mother, 
 and I can't hear it a bit too quick!'' 
 
 "Yes, good news indeed ; very good news ; so good, 
 in fact, that I'm almost afraid to tell it to you in your 
 weak state. Will you promise not to get excited, 
 dear ?" And in the eager face eager yet hesitating 
 bent down to kiss him, the impatient young man saw 
 mirrored an earnest of the great, glad tidings she 
 would fain divulge. 
 
 "No good news about her can harmfully excite me, 
 mother; you know that. Where is she?" he urged, 
 feverishly. 
 
 "In Paris, Robert, and a widow!" was the start 
 ling news the overjoyed woman could no longer re 
 frain from telling. 
 
 "What, mother? Alice both alive, and free!" cried 
 Robert in amazement; his face turning to an ashy 
 whiteness as he spoke. And although trembling vio 
 lently from the shock of suddenly aroused hope, he 
 yet declared uncertainly, "I can't believe it mother! 
 Such news is far too good to be true !" 
 
 "There, there; calm yourself my dear boy!" cau 
 tioned the other; alarmed for the effect of the agita 
 tion her impulsive words had caused. And as she 
 laid her hand quietingly upon the forehead of her 
 
REFUGEES A VICTIM 475 
 
 deeply moved son, she continued, "You must not 
 throw yourself back now, you know, but get well as 
 quickly as possible. For happily, the good news is 
 true, and I want my dear girl brought to me without 
 any avoidable delay." 
 
 "You won't have to wait long for her if it rests with 
 me, mother, and I shall prepare her by an immediate 
 letter. Please bring the materials; I feel strong 
 enough to write"; he affirmed, confidently, and at 
 tempting to raise himself up as he spoke. 
 
 "Oh, no, son, I couldn't allow that, even if we knew 
 where to reach her!" spoke up the mother, quickly; 
 pressing her over-ambitious convalescent back upon 
 his pillows. "Which we do not, as yet," she went on. 
 "But Mrs. Nichols is expecting her European address 
 daily, so try to wait patiently, dear ; then when it does 
 arrive you may be strong enough to use it at once." 
 
 "Well, I suppose I shall have to restrain myself, 
 mother/' sighed Robert, dejectedly; "but it will be 
 terribly hard work; for although now about as poor 
 as Job, you know I am not naturally so patient." 
 
CHAPTER XIV. 
 
 MINISTERING ANGELS A BELATED BETROTHAL. 
 
 " 'As usual he was in with the first load.' " 
 " 'Mrs. Harding- came out at the first news of 
 
 the disaster, to look for you and help in the 
 
 work of nursing-.' " 
 
 " 'Aren't you very glad to see me, Margaret'?" 
 
 After night's gloom, the bright and sunny morrow. 
 So Joy treads ever on the heels of Sorrow. 
 
 A great writer but feeble critic of his Creator 
 once belittled his God-given intellect enough to 
 thoughtlessly ask, why health had not been made 
 catching instead of disease. So, deep down in the 
 querulous human heart, all too often, lies imbedded the 
 erroneous belief that the only experiences of life 
 which do not come singly, are its troubles. But were 
 we to take correct note, should we not find that the 
 Heaven-sent joys of life are legion, constant, and abid 
 ing? While its troubles, not disasters, so called 
 though always man-made, are few by contrast, occas 
 ional, and fleeting? Of its surprises likewise; are not 
 the unpleasant far outnumbered by the pleasant, daily ? 
 And of these latter, a copious and refreshing shower, 
 was now about to descend upon the heads of several 
 of the familiar personages of our story. 
 
MINISTERING ANGELS 477- 
 
 Said Robert Manning gaily to his parent on the fol 
 lowing day, as she took leave of him for her accus 
 tomed ministrations in the other sick room, "If you 
 bring me as good news today as you did yesterday, 
 mother, I shall be sitting up a little by tomorrow." 
 
 "Well, I certainly trust I may have some for you 
 then, dear"; returned the happy mother, kissing him 
 tenderly. "And even better than I have yet brought 
 you. I ought to, hadn't I ? For this will be the third 
 edition, and there's luck in odd numbers, you know" ; 
 she laughingly reminded. Then added, "Dr. Woods, 
 whom I met and had quite a talk with yesterday, 
 hasn't yet quite given Mrs. Nichols up to die, he says. 
 He's to have a consultating friend with him today, 
 and I really have strong hopes, from the way he talked, 
 of bringing you a more encouraging report of her 
 case, at least." 
 
 "I hope you may, I'm sure, poor woman," returned 
 the young man feelingly; and there seemed a very 
 sincere ring to his friendly words. "Don't forget to 
 give her my regards and good wishes. And don't 
 stay too long, please !" he called, as his mother stepped 
 briskly from the tent. Then when a cheery "I won't, 
 dear," floated back to him, Robert Manning's face 
 sobered, as an involuntary tremor of upbraiding recol 
 lection swept his heart. And closing his eyes he mur 
 mured tensely, "How can I ever thank God enough 
 that she has been brought out of it all so wonder 
 fully!" 
 
478 BY EARTHQUAKE AND FIRE 
 
 And "wonderfully, 1 was in no degree too strong a 
 word to describe the almost miraculous restoration of 
 Margaret Manning. The dreadful affliction with 
 which she had so recently been visited, had left no 
 visible trace upon the woman, and well might the one 
 time wayward son, the offending cause, be thankful. 
 Thankful, too, that the years of disappointment, mental 
 torture and heart strain to which she had first been 
 subjected, had left so light a mark; for few there are 
 who could have weathered such storms as had crossed 
 her path, without showing many detracting physical 
 scars. But accepting them as she had done as a 
 needed, while yet uncomprehended discipline, meeting 
 them in a spirit of loving forbearance, bearing them 
 with a sweet submission and a patient courage which 
 would not let the hope of bright days yet to come, quite 
 die within her, since the dense, black clouds had rolled 
 away, she might be said to have emerged from the fiery 
 furnace with little more than the smell of smoke upon 
 her garments. And now, arrived at the meridian of 
 life, when the more subdued splendors of its early 
 Autumn were beginning to mellow the flaming bright 
 ness of its spent Summer-time, Margaret Manning 
 was quite as beautiful to look at as the flattering 
 Springtime of her life had promised. Moreover, sor 
 row and suffering had accomplished their intended 
 ministries, in still further deepening the warm and 
 tender light that had always loved to hide in the depths 
 of her dark blue eyes, while the enforced community 
 
MINISTERING ANGELS 479 
 
 life of the period, with its inevitable broadening of 
 vision and sympathies, had seemed to somewhat tone 
 down the ingrained queenliness of manner, which to 
 some, had savoured of haughtiness; thus conspiring 
 to make her beside beautiful, a more than ever charm 
 ing woman as well. 
 
 And that she was so considered, was evident from 
 the admiring remarks of Dr. Woods to his consulting 
 brother, as he slowed down his car that day at the 
 upper end of the block in which stood 'the little shop' 
 kept by the 'owld woman,' of which Winnie McCaf 
 frey had told and saw the attractive stranger, whom 
 he had first met but the day before, rapidly approach 
 ing from its lower end. 
 
 "Why here comes the beautiful widow of whom I've 
 been telling you, Hal !" he exclaimed ; the sober, pre 
 occupied face relaxing into a cheery smile as he spoke. 
 "Such a charming creature ought never to have kept 
 heart whole and fancy free for nearly thirteen years, 
 as my patient tells me she's done ; they're long-lost 
 friends, it seems. She should have made some poor 
 wretch miserably happy, long ago. Here's your chance, 
 Pard ; I'll introduce you, if you'll promise to convince 
 her that thirteen's an unlucky number. Why what 
 are you turning so pale for?" he continued banter- 
 ingly. "Who'd ever have believed that such a con 
 firmed bach as you was still susceptible !" 
 
 "You'll be spared the trouble of introducing us, 
 Doc;" returned his companion, blithely; "for we're 
 
480 BY EARTHQUAKE AND FIRE 
 
 still longer 'lost friends/ I guess. I haven't seen the 
 lady for almost thirty years, but I'd have known her 
 anywhere." And springing from the still grating ma 
 chine, the man swung hurriedly around behind it to 
 the sidewalk, and with one stride, placed himself 
 directly in the path of the arriving woman; his face 
 fairly agleam with delight. For had he not already 
 learned of her long period of widowhood ? So not the 
 hope alone, but the determination to possess his love 
 at last, had sprung to instant life in the constant heart 
 of this splendid, noble looking man. 
 
 "Margaret !" he gasped in astonishment, as he raised 
 his hat; dispensing with the unnecessary "Mrs." in 
 their case "Do I really see you once more, or is it 
 that my delighted eyes are merely playing me a scurvy 
 trick?" 
 
 But although the wealth of silken hair whose fiery 
 redness in youth had been such a continual source of 
 chagrin to its owner was now like a crown of spun 
 silver upon that owner's head, there was no need of 
 introduction; for instantly extending her hand, the 
 long-lost sweetheart returned his salutation with an 
 equal show of delighted astonishment; though "Har 
 ry!" was all that she could say. 
 
 "Well ! Well ! Good afternoon, Mrs. Manning," put 
 in Dr. Woods who, hat in hand, now joined the sur 
 prised couple. "This seems a very delightful reunion, 
 surely; I must say I feel intensely pleased with my 
 self for having brought it about!" He laughed ap- 
 
MINISTERING ANGELS 481 
 
 propriately, rubbing his palms together at the same 
 time in a self-gratulatory manner. 
 
 "It is a most delightful re-union, Doctor," replied 
 the smiling woman ; "for Doctor Gardiner and I were 
 playmates in childhood; and you know though lost to 
 sight, such companionships are often very dear to 
 memory. But however do you happen to be away out 
 here?" she asked in astonishment; now turning again 
 to her friend. "Though that's certainly an absurd 
 question to ask, on second thought," she added again 
 addressing her remark to Dr. Woods. "Rather ought 
 I to have expected to learn of Dr. Gardiner's being 
 here at such a time as this, for in calamity's hour, any 
 where, his name has always appeared in print as 
 among the ministering angels ; as you know even bet 
 ter than me, probably." 
 
 "That's the truth, if ever it was spoken, Mrs. Man 
 ning," assented the physician, heartily ; "and as usual, 
 he was in with the first load." 
 
 "Better get in to your patient, Doc.," put in Harold 
 Gardiner quickly, to stop further embarrassing con 
 versation along the same lines. Adding, as they moved 
 together towards the shop door, "What was it Wil 
 liam the Great said about our indiscretions serving 
 us better than our deep laid plots? Now it was but 
 the merest accident my being with that first rush; for 
 Florida was my original plan for a little holiday this 
 year, and if I hadn't happened to change it at the last 
 moment, and for no specially good reason, either 
 
482 BY EARTHQUAKE AND FIRE 
 
 why I shouldn't have had the honor and notoriety. 
 So you see there's no credit due me for it, at all." 
 
 Whereat his old college chum exclaimed, with good 
 natured irony, "Oh, Modesty! thy name was from the 
 beginning, is now, and ever shall be, Harold Lincoln 
 Gardiner; M.D.S.D.F.R.C.P.&S. et cetera." 
 
 Now great as had been the surprise and pleasure 
 of this most undreamed of meeting with her one-time 
 'playmate/ still greater of both were in store for Mar 
 garet Manning, on that eventful day of pleasant sur 
 prises. She was already in the sick-room greeting 
 her injured friend, when the physicians, tarrying to 
 remove their hats and converse a moment in the hall 
 outside entered; and with a cheery "You remember 
 Dr. Gardiner, do you not, Mrs. Nichols?" had moved 
 off a little, that the physician friend might take her 
 place; saying as she went, "I know you'll be pleased 
 to meet our old Colorado friend again, Doctor." 
 
 Whereupon, the friend addressed, with mingled 
 surprise, relief and satisfaction speaking from every 
 feature, advanced quickly to the side of the sufferer; 
 and while taking her hand, answered with excessive 
 cordiality, "Very much pleased, Mrs. Manning, for 
 her own sake, and still more so for the sake of an 
 other." And then, to his confrere, "May I tell your 
 patient some good news, Doctor?" 
 
 "The quicker the better; returned the mystified Dr. 
 Woods, with a nod of unqualified approval, as he 
 seated himself expectantly upon the opposite side of 
 
MINISTERING ANGELS 483 
 
 the sick bed. "For 'good news is like water to a 
 thirsty soul/ you know." 
 
 "My dear Mrs. Nichols," said the now smiling Dr. 
 Gardiner, "this is certainly a most gratifying moment 
 to me. Why I have been trying to locate you these 
 two weeks past, for your Niece, Mrs. Harding, of New 
 York; who is in the city, and greatly distressed be 
 cause unable to learn anything as to your fate or 
 whereabouts." 
 
 "What! Alice her el" fell simultaneously from the 
 lips of both women ; Mrs. Manning springing excitedly 
 to her feet, while the sick woman, with tears of joy 
 stealing from beneath the trembling eyelids emotion 
 had forced her to lower, murmured gratefully; 'Be 
 hind a frowning providence, He hides a smiling face/ 
 At which the learn-ed M. D/s looked inquiringly at 
 each other. 
 
 "Yes," resumed the speaker, "Mrs. Harding came 
 out at the first news of the disaster, to look for you, 
 and help in the work of nursing; she having taken 
 somewhat of a course in the profession and having 
 been unexpectedly delayed a week in sailing for 
 Europe. She is serving at one of the hospitals, where 
 we met ; and telling me of the missing aunt for whom 
 she was searching, begged me to keep up an inquiring 
 for her as I went about. Talking the matter over 
 brought to light the fact that you and I were oldtime 
 acquaintances, which, of course, increased my interest 
 at once"; he put in courteously. "But I had no idea 
 
484 BY EARTHQUAKE AND FIRE 
 
 when my friend here asked me to consult with him 
 over your case, that I should find in his patient the 
 very lady for whom I have been so persistently seek 
 ing. Mrs. Harding will be a very happy woman when 
 I carry her the good news. 
 
 "And / am much more so, Doctor," returned the 
 patient, feelingly. "Happy to know that she is here 
 and I may soon see her, as well as to know of her 
 loving anxiety about me; although that is nothing 
 surprising in Alice, is it?" she asked of her friend. 
 
 "Indeed it is not; such a picture of her is but true 
 to life" ; replied the other, warmly. "But where may 
 we find her, Doctor?" she now asked, with much ner 
 vous eagerness. "Her presence here is of even greater 
 importance to me than to Mrs. Nichols. I must see 
 her at once! Kindly tell me how to go to her!" 
 
 "Mrs. Harding is on duty this afternoon," was the 
 discouraging reply, "and I hardly believe you would 
 wish to interrupt her in her work. She will be free 
 this evening, however, and could I not bring her to 
 you?" And at this gallant offer, a very significant 
 one to him Dr. Woods gave vent to a mental 'O, ho !' 
 To repeat it, with even greater force and pleasure, at 
 the ready acceptance, for which he hopefully listened. 
 
 "If you only would, Doctor, I should be so grate 
 ful", said Margaret; "for my son, Robert, is ill and 
 unable to go for her, and we must see her at once"; 
 instantly popping in the hospitable after-thought 
 "and by that means, you and Robert will meet the more 
 
MINISTERING ANGELS 485 
 
 quickly, too; as I am of course very anxious that you 
 should do. What time, about, may we expect you?" 
 
 "O, not until he has brought her to me, please, Mrs. 
 Manning," interposed the sick one, persuasively. "You 
 will let me have her first for a little, I am sure !" 
 
 "Certainly, my dear friend; that will of course be 
 her wish, too ; but you know how impatiently we shall 
 be awaiting her, so you will be very considerate, I 
 know. We are Refugees," she now turned to inform 
 
 her gallant friend. "You'll find us in Square, 
 
 north side. I don't know how to designate the exact 
 location to you," she hesitated "except that we are 
 in between the Waldorf-Astoria and Poverty-Flat 
 tents." Explaining, with a smile, "we have very 
 facetious neighbors, you see; so much more so than 
 ourselves, in fact, that their ingenious door-plates 
 which by the way, spread over the whole side of their 
 tents must be your only guide, I'm afraid. And 
 now if there is nothing that I can do for Mrs. 
 Nichols," she finished, bending over the other to in 
 quire, "I must get back to Robert." 
 
 "Allow us the pleasure, Mrs. Manning; "Dr. Woods 
 begged instantly. "We shall be going soon. If you 
 will be so good as to leave the room now, Dr. Gardi 
 ner and I will get down to our professional duties at 
 once, and will detain you but a short time." Break 
 ing in upon the "Thanks, but" which was beginning 
 a polite refusal with "You'll reach home fully as 
 soon as by walking, and have an opportunity for a 
 chat with your 'childhood's playmate' beside." 
 
486 BY EARTHQUAKE AND FIRE 
 
 So while she waited, Mrs. Manning repaired to the 
 little shop in front, to talk with Mary Lanigan about 
 the more encouraging symptoms noticeable in her 
 loved mistress that day, and which had naturally con 
 duced to the unusually comfortable night the girl de 
 clared her to have passed. 
 
 "Well?" she queried, with friendly concern, as the 
 doctors joined her a quarter of an hour later. 
 
 "Your friend's condition is exceedingly favorable 
 now, Mrs. Manning," answered the physician in 
 charge. "The change for the better for which I have 
 been hoping, has set in within the last twenty-four 
 hours, and I feel that I may say now with great confi 
 dence, that she will recover." 
 
 "Thank the Lord!" burst out the loving servant. 
 And while a new prescription was being written and 
 further instructions given the girl as to the future 
 care of her recovering patient, Mrs. Manning stepped 
 back into the sick room, to leave with her now hopeful 
 friend a word of congratulation and good cheer. 
 
 As the three left the little shop and again came out 
 upon the sidewalk, Dr. Woods with a nice show of 
 politeness handed his fair guest to a seat in his wait 
 ing car; and then, after expressing the hope of meet 
 ing her soon again, smilingly bowed himself off, 
 pleading another call to make close by, to which he 
 would prefer walking. So with a grateful, "All right, 
 Doc. ; see you later" ; Harold Gardiner sprang nimbly 
 to a seat beside his long-lost love. 
 
MINISTERING ANGELS 487 
 
 "Oh, don't turn!" spoke up the woman quickly; as 
 her companion began making a curve. "You're headed 
 f or Square, now; it's in that direction" indi 
 cating the same with a nod of her head. 
 
 "I know, Margaret ; but we're going for a little spin 
 first," returned the man, coolly. 
 
 "Not this afternoon, I regret, Harry! I must get 
 back to Robert !" 
 
 "Robert is in very good hands, I understand, dur 
 ing your absence" ; affirmed the other, with the con 
 fidence of one well informed upon his subject. And 
 then, with a soft wistfulness, "Aren't you very glad 
 to see me, Margaret?" 
 
 "Delighted, of course, Harry; but " 
 
 "Then prove it to me, by allowing me this first 
 blessed half hour with you alone"; interrupted the 
 man. 
 
 "But I must prepare Robert for this evening ! It's " 
 
 "There's several hours between now and evening, 
 Margaret" ; he again broke in ; while all the while 
 increasing the distance between mother and son. 
 
 "But he must be prepared for it gradually, Harry," 
 the former now protested ; a trifle impatiently, too, it 
 might almost be said. "He's very weak ; and a sudden 
 shock would not do! you don't understand the situa 
 tion, either ! Alice and he were most cruelly separated 
 six years ago, by " 
 
 "And you and I were separated by a cruel fate, 
 thirty years ago, sweetheart, and I don't mean that 
 
488 BY EARTHQUAKE AND FIRE 
 
 we ever shall be again," the man interrupted, for the 
 third time, and he spoke with great determination. 
 "Though just say that you'll" he ad led, and was 
 now in turn interrupted with the fond mother's plead 
 ing : "But think of Robert, Harry ! and do please turn 
 round !" 
 
 "It's just because I am thinking of Robert, that I'm 
 not taking time to tell you over again of the depth and 
 fervor of my love, Margaret, which the years have 
 certainly proven" ; returned the lover, tenderly. "And 
 I'll promise to turn round, the very minute you whis 
 per that precious little word in my ear, for which I 
 pleaded thirty long years ago." 
 
 "Do take me home, Harry," again coaxed the 
 woman, after a moment's dwelling upon this reminder 
 of her lover's constancy. And then, poutingly, "You 
 don't seem to have any heart, now-a-days." 
 
 "I've never pretended to have one, love," came 
 the laughing response, with most exasperating gaiety 
 "since I gave it to you, in the long ago. I haven't 
 needed any. A gizzard has answered my purpose very 
 well indeed." 
 
 "But this is so sudden!" next complained the eternal 
 feminine. "And you've grown so arbitrary, too, Har 
 ry ; why you used to be nice and manageable." 
 
 But the soft impeachment in no wise disturbed the 
 serenity of the accused lover ; who saw in it but a sign 
 of approaching surrender. So he answered unmoved, 
 "And found it didn't pay, dearest; years make us 
 wise." 
 
MINISTERING ANGELS 489 
 
 "Oh, Harry, I beg of you, turn round ! we're getting 
 so far away, and Robert will be so nervous and im 
 patient !" 
 
 "Whenever I hear that sweet little word, Margaret," 
 rejoined the wooer; as determinedly as ever, and per 
 ceptibly increasing his speed as he spoke. 
 
 "Oh, Harry!" This in despair. 
 
 "You wouldn't humiliate me in Dr. Wood's eyes, 
 would you, sweetheart ?" now offered the man, craftily. 
 
 "Dr. Woods! Why he doesn't" 
 
 "Oh, yes he does, dearest; knows just what pur 
 pose I borrowed his car for, and has already congratu 
 lated me with the most flattering heartiness, too." 
 
 "You borrowed his car! Then this was all pre 
 meditated ? You audacious man !" 
 
 " 'He who would attain an end, must take the 
 means there-to' Margaret; and 'wisdom with years,' 
 you know." 
 
 "Harry, do turn round" ; she once more coaxed. 
 
 "I'll not only turn round, sweetheart, but speed for 
 Square, the very instant you command me." 
 
 "Oh, dear!" The woman fidgeted uneasily for a 
 moment; and then, settling back with a resigned air, 
 "Well, I simply must get there, Harry ; so speed/' 
 
envo 
 
 SWEET ALICE. 
 
 "When sweet Alice was soon after brought to 
 him there was but little to be said, evem had 
 not emotion prevented." 
 
 'A merry heart goes all the day ; 
 Your sad, tires in a mile-a/ 
 
 So, although there was much less time than the ap 
 prehensive mother could have wished, in which to pre 
 pare her feeble convalescent for the avalanche of over 
 powering joy about to sweep down upon him, it proved 
 amply long for safety; and the love affair of the 
 younger couple like that of their elders having 
 matured, and its sweet story been told, in the long 
 before, when sweet Alice, radiantly happy with antici 
 pation of the longed-for love in which her heart might 
 at last, find its well earned rest, was soon after brought 
 to him, there was but little to be sa-' 1, even had emo 
 tion not prevented. It was more a looking of unutter 
 able things by adoring eyes, into eyes which joyed to 
 toss them back again with a caressing smile. But the 
 following day, the waiting friends in far-away Paris, 
 were startled by the receipt of a disappointing cable, 
 over the familiar initials, A. G. H., which read: 
 'Sudden change of plans Explanatory letter en route 
 Future home, Denver ; with Dear Mamma Manning 
 and Rob.' 
 
 THE END. 
 
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