(Vh 
 
 o 
 
 
 
GIFT OF 
 
 
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 V 
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CONFESSIONS TO 
 A HEATHEN IDOL 
 
But let me whisper something to you, O Wise One: When a woman 
 is married she confesses to no one, not even to a broad- 
 minded teak-wood Idol " 
 
 (See page 351) 
 
CONI 
 
 TONS -TO 
 
 
 FAST LEE 
 
 ILLUSTRATED FROM > 
 jt BY FEED EOBIN6ON 
 
 111 
 
CONFESSIONS TO 
 A HEATHEN IDOL 
 
 BY 
 
 MAEIAN LEE 
 
 /* jf*~~ 
 
 ILLUSTRATED FROM PHOTOGRAPHS 
 BY FRED ROBINSON 
 
 NEW YORK 
 
 DOUBLEDAY, PAGE & COMPANY 
 1906 
 
 iii 
 
COPYaiQHT, 1906, BT DOUBLKDAY, PAQK & COMPANY 
 Published October, 1906 
 
 All rights reserved, including that of translation 
 into foreign languages, including th Scandinavian 
 
 IV 
 
CONTENTS 
 
 CHAPTER PAGE 
 
 i THE PLEASING AGE OF FORTY 3 
 
 ii JOE AND MA BELLE .... 16 
 
 in THE ANOMALOUS MB. MORRIS . 24 
 
 iv Two KNIGHTS TO THE RESCUE 38 
 
 v MA BELLE AND TOM Discuss 
 THE PROBLEM-NOVEL ... 46 
 
 vi THE VAGARIES OF CUPID . . 57 
 vn THE STORY OF A MARRIED LIFE 66 
 
 vin MUSINGS CONCERNING SECOND 
 
 MARRIAGES. HILDA ... 86 
 
 ix A THANKSGIVING DINNER AND 
 
 CONVERSATIONAL DESSERT . 99 
 
 x Music LAND AND A VISIT TO 
 TOM 109 
 
 xi HILDA PLAYS AN ACCOMPANI- 
 MENT 119 
 
 xn A COMEDY, A TRAGEDY, AND THE 
 
 WAY OF THE FOOL . 128 
 
 242529 
 
CONTENTS 
 
 CHAPTER PAGE 
 
 xiii CHRISTMAS, A WALK WITH TOM 
 AND AN ANNUAL SETTLEMENT 
 WITH THE FATES .... 143 
 
 xiv MA BELLE, HILDA AND TOM 
 COME TO DINE, AND THEODORE 
 MORRIS MAKES A MORNING 
 CALL 152 
 
 xv A SOCIAL FUNCTION WHICH WAS 
 
 TRULY SOCIAL 169 
 
 xvi MENTAL AND PHYSICAL EE- 
 
 FRESHMENTS 191 
 
 xvii DOMESTIC CATACLYSMS, AND 
 
 THEIR TREATMENT .... 205 
 
 xvm THROUGH THE PINE WOODS 
 
 WITH TOM 210 
 
 xix A SKILFUL WOOING . . . .219 
 
 xx A NICE AFTERNOON. LOVE'S 
 
 INITIATION FEE 232 
 
 xxi SACK-CLOTH AND ASHES . . . 246 
 xxn THE SPRINGTIME MADNESS . . 254 
 
 xxin THE IMPATIENCE OF MR. MOR- 
 RIS LEADS TO A CHANGE IN 
 CONFESSORS 260 
 
 xxiv MA BELLE'S STORY 265 
 
 vi 
 
CONTENTS 
 
 CHAPTER PAGE 
 
 xxv THE VIOLIN MAKES LOYE TO 
 THE PIANO WITH STARTLING 
 RESULTS 283 
 
 xxvi A FLIGHT TO THE HILLS. 
 
 FRIENDS' MEETING .... 292 
 
 xxvn MARIA DISCOURSES ON WIDOW- 
 ERS. GERRITT HOWLAND 
 COMES TO TEA 311 
 
 xxvin A BEWILDERING REVELATION . 327 
 
 xxix SOME VERY SATISFACTORY LET- 
 TERS 337 
 
 xxx THE DAWN or A JUNE DAY AND 
 
 A LAST CONFESSION . 345 
 
 vii 
 
LIST OF ILLUSTRATIONS 
 
 " But let me whisper something to you, O 
 Wise One : When a woman is married she 
 confesses to no one, not even to a broad- 
 minded teak- wood Idol" . . Frontispiece. 
 
 FACING PAGE 
 
 ' ' Come to think of it, you Poor Heathen, 
 you do not know what a kiss is " . . 142 
 
 " But there seems to be no long stretch of 
 experience's road where the slope is in 
 the right direction!" 224 
 
 " Confessor, I wish I knew whether it is 
 something or nothing that I sometimes 
 see in Tom's eyes" 258 
 
PRINCIPAL CHARACTERS 
 
 THE IDOL, carved from teak- wood, and alleged to be 
 the representation of some minor deity from a temple 
 in Japan. 
 
 MARIAN LEE, a widow of forty, who undertakes to ex- 
 plain her social experiences to the Idol. The mar- 
 ginal notes are supposed by Marian Lee to be the 
 Idol's summaries of her nightly confessions. 
 
 MRS. BELLE LEE, the mother-in-law of Marian, and 
 fondly called by her " Ma Belle." 
 
 TOM CARROLL, a lawyer and the loyal friend of Paul 
 Lee, Marian's deceased husband. 
 
 THEODORE MORRIS, a graduate student, and a special 
 friend of Joe Stillman. 
 
 ROBERT STILLMAN, the father of Marian Lee, and a pro- 
 fessor in a college situated in the town where the 
 scene of the story is laid. 
 
 JOE STILLMAN, the young brother of Marian Lee, an 
 undergraduate in the college. 
 
 MILLIE VAN TYNE, a girl friend of Joe Stillman. 
 
 HILDA VINCENT, a young woman, the intimate friend 
 of Marian Lee. 
 
 GERRITT ROWLAND, a Quaker preacher and successful 
 worker among the poor of a great city. 
 
 STEPHEN AND SYLVIA SOUTHARD, twin brother and sister 
 of the mother of Marian Lee, and members of the 
 Society of Friends. 
 
 XI 
 
PROLOGUE 
 
 YOU are so bewitchingly ugly and, withal, so 
 delightfully smug. Your ears are long and 
 ornamental; your eyes are turned upward dis- 
 creetly and piously; your hair is arranged in 
 neat rows like tiles and your nose is hopelessly 
 retrousse. Your smile is wide, cheerful and full 
 of meaning; your teeth are no respecters of 
 tradition since they are not set opposite, one 
 above the other, but alternate in a most original 
 manner. You are doubled up and squatted on 
 your tiny feet, your hands clasped over your 
 knees in a way that suggests that you are suffer- 
 ing an inward pain a suggestion belied by 
 your comprehensive smile. You are a fascinating 
 creation in teak-wood, and as you sit enthroned 
 in your temple above my desk, you arouse in me 
 strange thoughts and desires. 
 
 When my polished and truly gentle friend, 
 Mr. Otsaki, sent you to me from far Japan, he 
 wrote that letter hidden beneath the rug under 
 your feet, and it says : 
 
 Dear Madam and kind Friend: I to-day send 
 you idol as I promised. I secure him by bad 
 
PROLOGUE 
 
 priest who sell worshipped idol for money. I 
 think you like him very much. The priest say 
 he is real idol of good health but I not sure. I 
 have never worship idols because I Shinto; so 
 I cannot tell you more except he is true idol. 
 
 Please send my kind greetings your honored 
 Father and Brother. Thanking you for your 
 ever kindness to me I am always sincerely and 
 humble 
 
 your friend 
 
 K. OTSAKL 
 
 P.S. I could get you stone idol but he so 
 heavy I think you like teak-wood him better to 
 send to America K. 0. 
 
 Scant information this about a real god. I do 
 not know even your name or your specialty, and 
 I am glad it is so; for you are my one and only 
 idol and therefore must stand for all things. 
 
 The more I look at you the mote I see to ad- 
 mire. There is good humor and tolerance shin- 
 ing through your ugliness. I detect in you a 
 fair and unsqucamish spirit which leads you to 
 deal with the good and evil of this world simply. 
 Whatever you see you label truthfully; and you 
 will never gnash your mismated teeth nor tear 
 your tiled hair in horror and wrath if you chance 
 to find wickedness sandwiched in virtue. Such 
 
PROLOGUE 
 
 a one I have been longing for all my life 
 someone to judge human experience fairly 
 someone who neither excuses nor condemns the 
 bad, but calls it by its honest name and lets it 
 go someone who will not exalt nor disparage 
 the good but will give it its just place in the 
 economy of being. I have longed for a fair and 
 unprejudiced judge of the vicissitudes of human 
 experience and at last have found it in dispas- 
 sionate teak-wood. 
 
 But though you are all that I have longed for, 
 I do not intend to worship you, nor say my 
 prayers to you. Your work as a god you left 
 behind you in the land of the lotus and the pine. 
 You will have a different but no less onerous 
 position in your new temple, for you are to be 
 confessor to strictly honest confessions. I shall 
 not come to you for absolution, although I may 
 confess to you many venial sins. If I do tell 
 you of my sins it will be for the sake of hearing 
 them vocalised so that I may judge them for 
 myself. So Mitch of our inner living is vague 
 because it is never chained to judgment by 
 words. 
 
 Neither have I committed murder nor have I 
 intentionally wronged my fellow-men; it is no 
 weight of sin that impels ms to confession. It 
 is simply a desire to walk in the light rather 
 than in the darkness that makes me wish to place 
 
PROLOGUE 
 
 before you the difficulties and perplexities of 
 common-place experience to point out to you 
 the confusing complexity of the straggling 
 threads on the wrong side of monotonous, un- 
 eventful daily life. Moreover, Idol, I desire 
 to whisper to you some of the amusing things 
 which I have discovered all by myself during 
 the interesting days which have made for me 
 my several years. 
 
CONFESSIONS TO 
 A HEATHEN IDOL 
 
CONFESSIONS 
 TO A HEATHEN IDOL 
 
 CHAPTER I 
 
 THE PLEASING AGE OF FORTY 
 
 SEPTEMBER IST : And finally, at forty, it 
 has come to this I make confession to With gray 
 
 heathen gods ! At ten I confided to my most hair > life 
 
 becomes 
 adored girl friend ; at twenty I confided all I amusing 
 
 knew to my husband and could not understand 
 why he was so bored ; at thirty I confided to 
 no one, for I had discovered many things that 
 were best not mentioned ; at forty I find my- 
 self out of deep waters and sporting in the 
 shallows. By the time the first gray hairs are 
 earned, life becomes amusing, and one gayly 
 waves a hand at it instead of wringing both 
 3 
 
CONFESSIONS TO A HEATHEN IDOL 
 
 hands tragically because of it. This is the 
 reason I make daily confession to a grinning 
 teak- wood god. What I think is not worthy 
 of serious confession, but must be told to one 
 who smiles as if he understood. 
 
 Father remarked to me across the break- 
 fast table this morning : 
 
 " Marian, you are getting to be a benign 
 old party." But Joe took the matter up like 
 the true young knight he is and said : 
 
 " Nay, nay ! Mamie may be benign and 
 she often is a party, but old never." 
 
 I smiled at them both. Father knows that 
 A year lived growing old is as comfortable as it is respect- 
 
 is a year able and i nev itable. He knows that I look 
 earned 
 
 upon a year lived as a year earned j and 
 
 that each year earned means greater treasure 
 of experience and power laid up against time 
 of need. It is only when growing old means 
 cessation of development that it is to be v 
 feared. But Joe, in his twentieth year, could 
 hardly understand this, and he would not 
 allow the epithet " old " to be applied to his 
 playmate sister, even if she is twice his age 
 and has been his mother as well. Dear Idol, 
 4 
 
THE PLEASING AGE OF FORTY 
 
 it was when I was a widow at twenty-four 
 that I was old ; I was then so old that no 
 matter how many years may be added to my 
 life, I can never again be so old. Truth to 
 tell, I am twenty years younger than I was 
 then. 
 
 The only bit I '11 confess to you this eve- 
 ning of my fortieth birthday is that I have Lees as a 
 always found it an illuminating experience mora ^'f actor 
 to be obliged to drink to the dregs the vari- ^ 
 ous concoctions I have made for myself, 
 whether they have been of the intoxicating 
 sort or the safer kind ; the lees of the oldest 
 wine, by the way, being no worse than the 
 last insipid mouthful of a lemon-soda. The 
 one who luxuriously sips only the bead of 
 Life's brew gains very little wisdom and small 
 conception of that humorist Fate. I am 
 glad that I have had what Joe would term 
 " the sand " to drink to the last drop every 
 experience of every day of my life and make 
 no wry face. 
 
 I am getting accustomed to " comfy " interested 
 years and am quite reconciled to becoming versus 
 
 interesting 
 
 uninteresting, iust because it is so much 
 
CONFESSIONS TO A HEATHEN IDOL 
 
 easier. It is much more worth while to be 
 interested than to be interesting ; and it is 
 more truly youthful also j for to be interested 
 is natural, egotistical and delightful ; while 
 to be interesting is unnatural, altruistic and 
 a bore. 
 
 SEPTEMBER 15TH : I may as well confess 
 perturbing to-night in your capacious teak-wood ear 
 caller ^^ ^ G c hi e f event of this day was a call from 
 Tom Carroll. Not that Tom calls so seldom, 
 as that a call from him is likely to turn out 
 such a trying experience that it demands con- 
 sideration. He was Paul's dearest friend and 
 during our brief four years of married life he 
 was almost a member of our household. He 
 stood by me stanchly during the hard years 
 which followed j but after a time we some- 
 how drifted apart, and have never regained 
 the old, familiar footing during these many, 
 later years. Since I am confessing, I might 
 as well say that this has always hurt me ; but 
 it is his own choosing, so how can I help it ! 
 
 You look vaguely questioning, as if you 
 were wondering what this man is like 
 6 
 
THE PLEASING AGE OF FORTY 
 
 whose presence invites confession. I fear I 
 can describe Mm to you but imperfectly. A man with c 
 How shall I begin? He is broad-shouldered, nice smiu 
 not too tall, and has clean shaven and clear- 
 cut features ; he stands straight and looks 
 the world in the face with keen gray eyes 
 Two of his physical characteristics are strik- 
 ing, his smile and his hands j in the latter, 
 strength and sensitiveness unite to make that 
 rarest of masculine attractions, beautiful 
 hands. But how shall I convey to you all 
 the subtlety of his smile ! It is a frank smile 
 with the physical advantage of revealing 
 perfect teeth j and yet despite the frankness 
 there is in it a little cynicism ; not rank 
 cynicism but tolerant, humorous cynicism, of 
 the sort that comprehends all the world's 
 weaknesses and shams and finds them worth 
 smiling at. 
 
 Tom is full of surprises, yet is often tediously 
 disappointing. He is occasionally brusque An 
 
 and arbitrary, yea. almost brutal ; I adjust intcrestin 9 
 
 perplexity 
 
 myself patiently to this mood, when he un- 
 expectedly says or does something which lifts 
 him to the level of the truly great ; I re- 
 7 
 
CONFESSIONS TO A HEATHEN IDOL 
 
 adjust myself to a properly worshipful atti- 
 tude, when down he comes with a crash to the 
 hopelessly commonplace. Sometimes we look 
 at each other with understanding and ex- 
 quisite sympathy j then, again, he fails utterly 
 to comprehend my standpoint or to make me 
 respect his. 
 
 Thus it is that life with Tom in it is any- 
 Being thing but monotonous. I have finally con- 
 
 grateful c i u ^ e ^ y^t a f ter gji j am no rea j personality 
 an arid 
 
 experience to him. I am simply Paul's widow some- 
 thing to look after and care for, but by no 
 means somebody on my own account. Well, 
 I suppose I ought to be grateful, but being 
 grateful is sometimes a rather arid experi- 
 ence. Now don't turn pale, little god, but 
 it is the truth that I would sooner be down- 
 right bad than grateful. There is something 
 depressing in the way we have to be good 
 and grateful whether we wish to or not. 
 
 We are puny wretches and cowards to the 
 
 Conventional- last degree when it comes to standing by 
 
 ity a clue to ^^urg 35 opposed to convention. But why 
 
 our intentions, 
 
 rather than to do * rebel? Nature is a selfish brute; and 
 our desires after all, conventionality is a blundering step 
 
 8 
 
THE PLEASING AGE OF FORTY 
 
 toward altruism an attempt to guide our- 
 selves by rules that give others a clue to our 
 intentions rather than our desires. 
 
 SEPTEMBER 16TH : To-night, at Joe's earnest 
 
 request, I broke my record of twenty years' Chaperoning, 
 
 standing : I went as a chaperon to a dance a 
 
 occupation 
 
 given at his fraternity house, an experience I 
 had sedulously avoided heretofore. How- 
 ever, this time I went and sat in divers corners 
 and tried to be interesting to whomsoever the 
 tide of dance-program left stranded on my 
 lonely shore. It was a painful and labored 
 performance at best. I adore boys, and there 
 were among those who sat beside me to-night 
 several whom I might have stalked or baited 
 to conversational capture had they been in the 
 hunting grounds of my own drawing room. 
 But they were hopelessly vapid and restless 
 to-night ,* such a blight on social effort is the 
 egotism of youth which devoutly believes 
 that the sight of dizzy dancers is one of the 
 coveted privileges of age. Thank heaven Joe 
 is not a girl ! Henceforth the mamma of the 
 girl of his choice may do his chaperoning. 
 9 
 
CONFESSIONS TO A HEATHEN IDOL 
 
 The mother of the girl is the natural victim ; 
 let the mother of boys be glad for what she is 
 spared. 
 
 One youth, rather more mature than the 
 A beautiful others, a graduate student Joe says, interested 
 
 man, a cum- me a ^tle. He is very handsome with 
 berer of the 
 
 earth rather delicate features, large brown eyes, 
 
 and thin lips covered by a most correct 
 moustache. I found him interesting because 
 he was so wofully bored and not because he 
 was beautiful a merely beautiful man being, 
 in my opinion, a cumberer of the earth. He 
 sat beside me a long time as immobile as your- 
 self, my Graven Image, his eyes listlessly fol- 
 lowing Millie Van Tyne as she two-stepped 
 and blushed and flirted in a delightful and 
 wholesome manner. A socially wholesome 
 A wholesome girl, by the way, is likely to flirt just as a bird 
 girl-flirt s i n gs or a flower blossoms j she does not have 
 any designs on the hearts of men, but her high 
 spirits and joyousness just froth over into 
 flirtsomeness. Well, Sir Indifference sat at 
 my side watching Millie and every time I 
 made a desperate dash at conversation, he 
 answered with all the conventional common- 
 10 
 
THE PLEASING AGE OF FOETY 
 
 place of a man come to life from a tailor's 
 fashion plate. In comparison with him the 
 little Bigelow boy, who guilelessly asked me 
 if I did not wish that I were young so that I 
 could dance, was a joy and relief. 
 
 SEPTEMBER I?TH: Perhaps a supreme test 
 
 of character is shown in our way of dealing Coping with a 
 
 with inevitable nuisances. It is always a nuisance > a 
 
 test of char- 
 question how much one ought to endure pa- acter 
 
 tiently and then what is wisest to do when 
 one stops enduring. I might as well confess 
 to you to-night, O Smiling Serenity ! that we 
 are in the throes of enduring at the present 
 time. My poor, sweet step-mamma's mother 
 is making us a visit ; and she is an old lady 
 with nerves that compass her about like a 
 barbed wire fence and lacerate quite inci- 
 dentally every one in her vicinity. 
 
 Father has retired to his study and in- 
 trenched himself behind a cold in the head The efficacy 
 and reticence. Joe has suddenly developed a f sll/inin 9 
 conscientiousness about his college work 
 which keeps him away from the bosom of his 
 family pretty constantly. The servants are 
 11 
 
CONFESSIONS TO A HEATHEN IDOL 
 
 in a state of sullen, sodden revolt. But I 
 shine on unperturbed, simply because I can- 
 not make up mind what to do that will prove 
 more efficacious than shining. 
 
 Tom Carroll called to-night and grandma 
 improved the occasion to complain of many 
 things; she finally capped the climax by 
 insinuating, I do not know how, for Satan 
 surely helps her to innuendo, that he had kept 
 " Marian " waiting too long. But Tom is not 
 one to be crushed by an attack like that and 
 he answered cheerfully : 
 
 " I am here, Madam, several times a week ; 
 should Marian want me, all she has to do is 
 to stoop and pick me up." He made me a 
 profound bow and grandma looked trium- 
 phant as if she had done me a great favor. 
 When Tom went, I followed him to the door 
 with some vague purpose of apologizing. 
 
 " Confound it ! Marian why do you smile 
 and endure it?" he whispered savagely. 
 
 " My smile has become fixed so far as she 
 The value oj a is concerned. I cannot change it even 
 fixed smile though the muscles do ache." 
 
 " All right, keep on being amiable and be 
 12 
 
THE PLEASING AGE OF FOKTY 
 
 trampled under foot if it suits you, " he ex- 
 claimed with disgust. 
 
 " Oh, don't scold me ! I cannot stand it ;" I 
 cried nervously, and I fear the tears were An unexpect- 
 near enough to my voice to dampen it j and e< * Jielp 
 then and then something happened which 
 had not happened before since Paul lay dead in 
 the house and this man sought to comfort me 
 he raised my hand to his lips. It was just 
 a touch, not really a kiss. But the world 
 seems a better place now; and my rasped 
 nerves are all upholstered in velvet and 
 grandma cannot reach them if she does her 
 worst. Such is the help derived from the 
 sympathy of an undemonstrative friend ! 
 
 SEPTEMBER 18TH: "Wooden Image, do you 
 realize how many of our mortal days we have The unusual 
 to live through and how few we are privileged u * y a ways 
 to truly live ? Days when one wishes at dawn 
 that it were sunset because of the unsatis- 
 fying hours which must intervene days of 
 fretful, unexpected duties, that take one away 
 from wholesome living. The unusual duty is 
 almost always exhausting ; I detest the un- 
 13 
 
CONFESSIONS TO A HEATHEN IDOL 
 
 usual with, a perfect detestation which ought 
 to touch a sympathetic chord in your unvary- 
 ing breast. 
 
 I am never so well satisfied with my life as 
 The way to when I drink it every day from day -dawn to 
 
 quaff life's s tar-dawn in hearty, thirsty swallows, and 
 brew 
 
 find no time to sit and reflect upon the flavor 
 
 and wonder if another brand had better 
 suited me. 
 
 I am convinced that productive labor is the 
 Wood-carving best of all our activities to make the day 
 
 influence happV and the night satisfie<L I have never 
 ceased to be grateful that in those desperate 
 
 days of my early widowhood I learned to 
 use my hands to some purpose. Wood-carv- 
 ing may not be the highest form of art, but 
 it is one of Art's worthy ministers j and it has 
 been the saving of me as surely as it has been 
 the shaping of you, small god. I loved the 
 work from the first, and the fact that I really 
 achieved a fair success in it has always been 
 a comfort to me. 
 
 A woman is so given to frittering away her 
 energies because of her many interests ! The 
 diversity of her duties lead almost inevitably 
 14 
 
THE PLEASING AGE OF FORTY 
 
 to lack of definite purpose and concentration. 
 Tom Carroll helped me to overcome these Feminine 
 feminine disabilities ; I remember well, he f ritter ing 
 said to me, "Don't be a woman in this one 
 particular, Marian ; just taste the joy of 
 doing something you do not have to do, suffi- 
 ciently well so that it will be of value in the 
 world's marts.' 7 But it happened" that no 
 sooner had I really mastered my work than I 
 was called home by the death of my dear 
 little step-mother, and instead of carving 
 wood I was obliged to give my energies to 
 shaping Joe, which has proved a most absorb- 
 ing occupation. 
 
 15 
 
CHAPTER II 
 
 JOE AND MA BELLE 
 
 SEPTEMBER 18TH ( Continued) : Of one 
 ,.,_ ,. JV thing I am entirely convinced : A woman 
 
 versus cannot carry on a business successfully and be 
 domesticity 
 
 an efficient mistress of a house and train well 
 
 a lively boy all simultaneously, unless she 
 hath at her behest many ministers plenipo- 
 tentiary. My first duties have always been 
 the care of father and Joe and the home. 
 But a thousand times I have thanked God 
 that I had a work which I loved in a work- 
 room away from the house and all its cares. 
 That cosy, chip -littered room of mine in the 
 second story of the carriage house has been a 
 place where I could always find peace and 
 comfort ; and more than all, strength for my 
 duties as daughter, mother and housekeeper. 
 
 Healing the It was the resting place where the collar-galls 
 
 cottar-gate cooled and healed. 
 
 16 
 
JOE AND MA BELLE 
 
 I would prescribe as a means of preserving 
 sanity and sound nerves to the wives and A prescrip- 
 
 mothers of the land, that they each have tion f or P re ~ 
 
 serving samty 
 
 some avocation which may be pursued stead- 
 fastly even though intermittently, apart from 
 household duties. Such a work clears the 
 mind and temper of tangles ; it is like the 
 shadow of a rock in a weary land. I believe it 
 was the knitting and the spinning and the 
 weaving that enabled our great-grandmothers 
 to bring up such large families with efficience 
 and serenity j for these old-fashioned occu- 
 pations have in them the mentally calming 
 influence for which I am pleading. 
 
 During all these years I have never been 
 so perplexed about Joe nor so worried over Drop 
 
 housekeeping trials that I have not been 
 
 crawl out of 
 able to find forgetfulness and rest when I 
 
 barred that work-room door and took up my 
 dear tools. Half the worries of life crawl 
 away out of sight, the moment one drops 
 them ; and even if one finds them again they 
 seem to have shrunken. 
 
 Thanks to this work more than to my 
 wisdom, I have reared Joe in a manner which 
 17 
 
CONFESSIONS TO A HEATHEN IDOL 
 
 even grandma declares a success. He is a 
 The up-bring- fine, truthful, manly boy with one clear 
 mg of Joe conce ption which is ethical in effect, if not 
 inherently so : He takes the consequences of 
 his own unwise acts like a man and a hero. 
 I feel great pride when I note how I have 
 taught him to measure the great world in 
 his own little pint- cup of experience. His 
 college chums aver that he is " level-headed " 
 and I know he is warm hearted j and what 
 more can a mother ask for in a son if he is 
 warm hearted and level headed ! 
 
 Thus it is that I do not worry much about 
 Joe, even when I see him leading that silly 
 little Dolly Pease into dim tete-a-tete corners 
 as he did at the dance the other night. I 
 asked him the next morning if he thought 
 she appeared to a better advantage in dark 
 places. He laughed at me and answered 
 teasingly : 
 
 "Mamie, do you remember what you told 
 
 The sad re- me when I broke my arm sliding down the 
 
 suits of lack b ann i s ter? You picked me up and sent for 
 
 the doctor, but you said then gently but 
 
 firmly what you said every time I complained 
 
 18 
 
JOE AND MA BELLE 
 
 about the pain too loudly afterward : ' Joe, 
 this is what happens to a boy who tries to 
 slide down bannisters when he hasn't grip 
 enough to hold on. 7 Now, sister, if I have n't 
 grip enough to hold on, I won't whimper, 
 whatever breaks." I laughed and he knew 
 that I understood. There is n't any doubt 
 about it, children come into the world to 
 educate their elders. When I think what my 
 life might have been without the development 
 which the care of Joe has brought to me, I 
 quail before the prospect. Yes, Joe is a com- 
 fort, even if he did remark irreverently about 
 you, my Idol, that you look so embryonic 
 that you ought to be kept in a bottle of alcohol. 
 
 SEPTEMBER 19TH : The cricket-heart of Sep- 
 tember is beating but slowly to-night ; the Nature's 
 
 lower temperature cools somewhat the ar- songs f con ~ 
 
 tent 
 dor of the little fiddlers in the trees. What are 
 
 the sounds of supreme content in nature in 
 Japan, my Confessor ? Here we have this mo- 
 notonous cadence of the little white crickets in 
 the trees ; the sound of sleepily blinking cows 
 chewing their cuds ; the purr of the cat on the 
 19 
 
CONFESSIONS TO A HEATHEN IDOL 
 
 hearth-rug j the last peep of the chick as it 
 nestles under the warm feathers of the mother 
 hen 5 the soft beat of gentle waves on a sandy 
 beach ; and perhaps the most contented and 
 cosy sound of all is the hushed gurgle of the 
 ice-bound brook. 
 
 I feel in sympathy with all contented things 
 to-night, for grandma went home this after- 
 noon j and thank Providence ! I smiled on her 
 from start to finish. I am constrained to be- 
 lieve also that hidden somewhere in her rag- 
 bag of nerves is a decided fondness for me. 
 Father waxed cheerful at dinner to-night and, 
 laying aside professorial dignity, acted like a 
 boy with Joe. I inadvertently remarked that 
 it was a wonder that a woman so unfit for 
 enjoying life should have lived so long, and 
 father added : 
 
 " Maybe the fit who survive are the unfit 
 
 A new theory who kill off everyone else.' 7 Thus encour- 
 of 'the survival aged Joe spo k e up . 
 of the fittest 
 
 " Grandma is a case of give 7 em fits," at 
 
 which I was obliged to assume an air of 
 
 severity to restrain my naughty boys. But it 
 
 certainly is strange how a woman with good 
 
 20 
 
JOE AND MA BELLE 
 
 intentions can manage to set all the nerves in 
 her neighborhood on edge ! I have always Wicked 
 had a theory that she was given morbidly to ^^ 
 thinking of the most dreadful thing possible Meeting 
 to say in a given situation, and then impul- 
 sively blurting it out. I remember when, as 
 a small girl, I went with my mother to 
 Friends' Meeting I found the silence long and 
 oppressive ; whereat I was wont to imagine 
 what they all would do if I should jump up on 
 the seat and shout and scream " darn ! darn ! 
 darn ! " this word being my ideal of real pro- 
 fanity. Sometimes it seemed as if I must do 
 this just to see what would happen as the 
 result. Since grandma has been here this 
 time I have come to the conclusion that she 
 talks on the same principle. 
 
 SEPTEMBER 20TH : I went this afternoon to 
 see my rnamma-in-law. In your country, A special kind 
 Mr. Image, the mother-in-law is a great per- f a 
 sonage ; but she is n't to be compared with 
 mine, for mine is the most interesting woman 
 that ever lived in any country. She is beau- 
 tiful, too, with her white hair, rosy cheeks 
 21 
 
CONFESSIONS TO A HEATHEN IDOL 
 
 and glowing, dark eyes. If there was ever a 
 A "brick" tonic in human form, she is one ; she makes a 
 defined f unn y pretense of being cynical, but she is the 
 warmest hearted and most truly helpful per- 
 son I know. She is a brick ! Now, of course, 
 you poor Heathen, you do not know what 
 that term means j but a brick is is some- 
 body widely satisfactory ; and Ma Belle is a 
 brick of gold in time of need, and also in time 
 of need she is occasionally a brick-bat. "When 
 I married her only son and so gained the 
 right to call her " mother," I found that I 
 could not, for some reason quite inexplicable, 
 bring myself to call her so in a natural 
 manner. I found instead, that I longed for a 
 pet name for her which should be all my own, 
 and which I need not share even with Paul. 
 Ma Belle She was christened " Belle " and this name fits 
 her perfectly, but of course I could not call 
 her that ; so I called her ma belle at first be- 
 cause she was "my beautiful." Later I 
 changed it to Ma Belle because she soon came 
 to be my own dear Mother Belle, the wisest 
 and most adorable mother in the whole round 
 world, and I know she likes to have me call 
 her Ma Belle. 
 
 22 
 
JOE AND MA BELLE 
 
 She said to me in discusssing our recent 
 visitor : 
 
 "When the Recording Angel hands over 
 the account of almost any mortal to the Insanity not a 
 great Judge, he may say <Be merciful, for ******** 
 this one is crazy' 5 and the Judge will answer : 
 ( Forsooth, every one is crazy, that is no ex- 
 cuse ' $ and he will be right too. Grandma 
 Leech has a mania for disturbing all things 
 that might otherwise be comfortable, and 
 she ought to be punished ; and you, my dear 
 Marian, have a mania for smiling at all 
 things whether the Lord intended them to be 
 smiled at or not, and you ought to be punished 
 too. You might as well wear a painted grin, 
 like a clown." 
 
 " But Ma Belle," I interrupted, "the clown 
 jingles his own bells, so his grin needs to be TWO different 
 painted; but I let other folks do the jingling ^ f 
 and therefore I laugh naturally." At which 
 she smiled and said I was her " own child " 5 
 Ma Belle likes to have me talk back. 
 
 23 
 
CHAPTER III 
 
 THE ANOMALOUS ME. MORRIS 
 
 SEPTEMBER 22ND : Did you ever happen 
 ..* -,- to discover on the other side of the 
 ptorations wor id that the ways of men are amazing 
 strange and that this is the reason why a 
 woman's experience with them is always like 
 a voyage .of exploration ? This is true on 
 our side of the world, anyway, and I went 
 to-night on a voyage toward the north pole. 
 That beautiful and correct youth, Mr. Theo- 
 dore Morris called j he is the one I mentioned 
 to you after I came home from the dance the 
 other night. This evening he was still worse 
 An appall- than before j he was simply a painted ship 
 
 ingly polite on ^he painted ocean of conversation, so per- 
 conversation 
 
 fectly did he reflect himself in his talk. I do 
 
 not believe that ever in my life before did I 
 carry on such a stupidly conventional 
 discourse. Neither my mind nor my tongue 
 
 24 
 
THE ANOMALOUS ME. MOREIS 
 
 are fitted to conventional grooves ; but this 
 
 man is so forceful in his nerveless indifference A soul with a 
 
 that he bowled me down the alley of twaddle moustache < 
 
 anomaly. 
 about weather, opera and lectures as if that 
 
 were my natural path. While my words 
 pattered along at a decent trot, I was, in my 
 mind, trying to picture his soul j and I could 
 not even imagine it without that carefully 
 curled moustache. Even if you are made 
 out of teak, you must know, little god, that 
 a soul with a moustache is an anomaly. I 
 can usually see how people's souls look ; the 
 only features really necessary to a soul are 
 eyes, the rest may well be veiled. Belle-mare's 
 eyes would pierce all concealments and see 
 things as they are. Tom's keen gray eyes 
 must be quizzical and baffling even if they 
 were the eyes of a soul ; but this man 's eyes, 
 large and beautiful like those of a brunette 
 bisque dollie his eyes do not belong to a 
 soul nearly so much as does his moustache. 
 Every attempt to see beyond the glass sur- 
 face of those eyes was a futile search into 
 nothingness. If he comes again, I will surely 
 shock him, if I have to go back to my child- 
 25 
 
CONFESSIONS TO A HEATHEN IDOL 
 
 ish naughtiness and shout "darn" in the 
 midst of one of his formal sentences. 
 
 SEPTEMBER 25TH : I feel introspective to- 
 Beware of night and you had best stop grinning, 
 
 woman m ^n- u overfill Image, for a woman in an in- 
 trospective J 
 
 mood trospective mood is to be shunned, by gods 
 
 as well as by men. This is one of Fate's 
 ironies, because a woman in introspective 
 mood feels as if she were very, very interest- 
 ing. Poor Paul ! How in my egotistical 
 youth I must have bored him with introspec- 
 tions j I wonder if he knows that, had he 
 lived, his wife might have finally grown into 
 knowledge and understanding, and have been 
 a comfort to him instead of a perplexity. 
 
 The slow beat of the cricket- oratorio seems 
 
 Autumn's to-night like the dying pulse of summer. I 
 
 h&raldmgs wa ik e a i n t o the country to-day and I found the 
 
 golden-rod turned brown except here and 
 
 there a spray that had hoarded its gold where 
 
 the frost robber had not found it. The asters 
 
 looked piteously out of what blue eyes there 
 
 were left to them. But the maples, ah the 
 
 maples ! My heart beat faster at the sight 
 
 26 
 
THE ANOMALOUS ME. MORRIS 
 
 of their blood-red branches ; there are some 
 colors that one would be willing to die for, 
 and glowing red is one of them. The birds 
 were flocking for their fall migrations and 
 never since spring has the air been so filled 
 with their music ; yet these farewell choruses 
 have a far different sound than the welcome 
 songs of spring ; there is in them an unrest 
 felt but hard to define it betokens the com- 
 ing departure and the dread of wearisome 
 journeys. 
 
 On a hillside road which leads up to a 
 crowning group of old pines, I was overtaken A surprising 
 
 by Mr. Morris. He was not welcome, but com P ani n f 
 
 the road 
 with my usual polite mendacity I proceeded 
 
 to hide the fact j he seemed quite inexplicably 
 glad to have found me and strode on at my 
 side. After a time, I realized with great sur- 
 prise that he was entirely responsive to all of 
 nature's appeals. He did not say much, but 
 he made me perceive that he felt and knew 
 all the little happenings in our environment. 
 His eyes sought mine when a squirrel mock- 
 ingly cast a chestnut burr in our path, and 
 again when the sweet refrain of a meadow- 
 27 
 
CONFESSIONS TO A HEATHEN IDOL 
 
 lark reached our ears ; and when we stopped 
 for breath on the top of the hill, he gazed 
 long at the scene before us and said musingly : 
 " The valleys overflow with this purple haze 
 like goblets filled to the brim ; I wonder if 
 this autumnal splendor intoxicates you as it 
 does me." There was a new light in his eyes 
 as he said this, but trying to analyze it was 
 like hunting for a star in a cloudy sky. 
 
 After I returned home I was obliged to 
 A punctured acknowledge to myself that this unwelcome 
 conceit com p an i O n had been a help rather than a 
 hindrance to my enjoyment of the walk. And 
 now I am wondering how a being so super- 
 ficial and mechanical can be so at home with 
 nature. I fear I do not know much about the 
 adjustments of the universe, after all. I get 
 conceited occasionally, but my conceit is as 
 soon punctured as a toy balloon ; and I am 
 quite as content when it is all shriveled as it is 
 to-night as when it is bouncing about tied by 
 the string of my imagination. 
 
 O ! you cheerful Heathen, I do not believe 
 that in all your life before, you ever met such 
 an absurd girl. Do not look so amazed, for I 
 28 
 
THE ANOMALOUS MR. MORKIS 
 
 mean just what I say" girl " ; as truly a girl 
 as ever I was. I do not wonder that you roll A growth 
 up your mysterious eyes at such a phenome- 
 non : A girl who would not learn to grow 
 old when the gray hairs came creeping into 
 her black locks ; a girl who boldly declares 
 the whole world is rose-color because she 
 deliberately chooses to wear pink spectacles ; 
 a girl who pillows her head trustfully on the 
 bosom of humanity and maintains that the 
 softness is in the cushion rather than in the 
 head ; a girl who prizes more one genuine, 
 healthy, happy emotion than all the wisdom 
 of the ages; a girl stunted in growth by 
 rank optimism and kept in eternal girlhood 
 thereby. I am glad that you finally grin 
 sympathetically, dear Idol, for I need sym- 
 pathy to-night. 
 
 SEPTEMBER 26TH: I am glad that I dis- 
 covered some time since, that the human Tlie vagaries 
 
 heart is the most mysterious of all the organs f the human 
 
 heart 
 
 vouchsafed to man, and most given to un- 
 warranted vagaries, which it is manifestly the 
 head's business to record. I can assure you, 
 29 
 
CONFESSIONS TO A HEATHEN IDOL 
 
 my Confessor, much wisdom is likely to accrue 
 from such anatomical studies. 
 
 Tom Carroll and Millie Van Tyne were 
 
 The outside-y here this evening. Millie and Joe are al- 
 man ways quarreling $ and I have not yet been able 
 to determine whether it is the quarrel of 
 reciprocal attraction or just natural disagree- 
 ment. Millie alluded to Mr. Morris as " the 
 outside-y man" which rejoiced me exceed- 
 ingly as a specific description. But Joe de- 
 clared it a libel ; and said if she knew him as 
 the boys did, she " would not say such a silly 
 thing," at which Millie teasingly asked if 
 "the boys" wound him up every morning 
 and if he " runs " all day ; or if perchance his 
 "works" were of the eight-day sort. Then 
 Joe, Hushing with anger, retorted that men 
 were not built on the plan of women's ton- 
 gues. Tom's eyes twinkled with amusement 
 as he listened to them but I was troubled and 
 said under my breath, 
 
 The Utter joy "Bad children : I wish they would n't." 
 
 ofmisunder- G rea t g cott! ] ar i an WO uld you rob 
 standings 
 
 friends or lovers of the bitter joy of misunder- 
 
 30 
 
THE ANOMALOUS ME. MOKEIS 
 
 standing/ 7 he ejaculated in a voice so low 
 that only I heard. 
 
 OCTOBER 4TH : A boy's impractical dreams 
 are mightily interesting, did you know it? A boy's 
 What a pity you were not a boy before you visions 
 were a god, for then you would know many 
 things of which the gods never dream. 
 
 I walked with Joe to-night in the starlight ; 
 we wandered away to Pine Hill and he opened 
 his heart to me with as much freedom as if I 
 had been the sister of some other boy instead. 
 He has arrived at the Napoleon-on-St. Helena 
 age ; he stands apart, in self exile, with folded 
 arms and knit brows, looking at the world 
 from afar. He resents the bondage of respon- 
 sibility and would live alone, stand alone and 
 experience alone on his high pedestal of self. 
 
 I was sympathetic, but I managed to present 
 tactfully the argument that the use of a man The use of a 
 
 to the world is measured by his bondage to man to the 
 
 world is meas- 
 it ; that standing alone is not strength unless ure ^ i y ^ s 
 
 it be the useless strength of the obelisk which bondage to it 
 suffices only to bear vain inscriptions until 
 31 
 
CONFESSIONS TO A HEATHEN IDOL 
 
 wind and weather efface them ; that ability 
 to stand alone is petty strength; while the 
 ability to fit into one's own niche with one's 
 fellow building-stones in the great world- 
 structure, is true strength ; that the ability 
 to bear the weight of others, stanchly ; and 
 the ability to rest trustfully on one's foun- 
 dations measure a person's true importance. 
 He listened thoughtfully; and when we 
 The eternal reached the brow of the hill I took his face in 
 verities m j hands and turned his eyes so that they 
 looked up, into the unfathomable heavens, 
 and I said to him softly as I caressed his cheek : 
 "The stars up there keep their courses only 
 through bondage to other stars, and the 
 eternal verities of worlds without number 
 are the verities of your life and mine." 
 When he bade me good-night, he put his arm 
 around my neck and kissed me affection- 
 ately; and that was his response to my 
 sermon. 
 
 OCTOBER 5TH : Good Idol, were you ever 
 
 complimented in a truly malapropos 
 
 fashion? Was your teak complexion ever 
 
 32 
 
THE ANOMALOUS ME. MOEEIS 
 
 called " pearly " or your eyes called " starry/' 
 
 or your dumpy body spoken of as tl grace- TJie subtle 
 
 ful"! I think compliments are really more flattery ofun ~ 
 
 deserved com- 
 
 pleasing when they are undeserved, for they 
 are thus relegated to the realm of the ideal 
 where any delightful fairy story may be true. 
 While if a compliment is deserved, it does 
 not mean so much ; for, after all is said, virtue 
 is its own, and too often alas ! its only reward 
 in this queer world. 
 
 All of this discussion was caused by Joe's 
 telling me to-day that Theodore Morris said 
 to him that I was the most elegant and in- 
 teresting woman he had ever met. " Elegant 
 and interesting " forsooth ! And this is what 
 I am coming to ! If you will be kind enough 
 to excuse me I think I shall proceed to lay my 
 elegant head on my interesting pillow and 
 take a rest. 
 
 OCTOBER GTH : I think as the years go by 
 we should rejoice over the facility we 
 gain in living ; we get a working knowledge 
 of the tools at our command which is a great 
 help. Now-a-days I feel so sure of myself and 
 33 
 
CONFESSIONS TO A HEATHEN IDOL 
 
 so entirely secure and peaceful just because I 
 am " getting used." 
 
 In my earlier years of Sturm und Drang, I 
 Bovine was wont to envy the cow which stood, ehew- 
 seremty j n g ^er CU( j an( ^ g az i n g w ith great soft con- 
 tented eyes into space and perhaps futurity j 
 she seemed to me to be the embodiment of 
 serene faith and satisfaction. Now I envy 
 her no longer because I am her. Pardon 
 my grammar, O most Worshipful ! However, 
 a god prayed to for so many years in Japanese 
 ought not to be disturbed by colloquial English 
 and that fact adds much to the solace derived 
 from coming to you with many and various 
 confessions. 
 
 By the way, I was about to tell you that 
 Mr. Morris called to-night just as I was start- 
 ing to make Ma Belle a visit, and I invited 
 him to go with me. He was silent and 
 apathetic during our stay, but Ma Belle and I 
 did not mind, for we always find plenty of 
 interesting things to talk about. I am pining 
 to know what ma mdre thinks about the young 
 man ; she is keen and never makes mistakes 
 in judging people. 
 
 34 
 
THE ANOMALOUS MR. MOKKIS 
 
 OCTOBER TTH : Guess what she did say 
 
 about him ! I went to see her to-day A sealed 
 
 purposely to find out her impressions. She P rcelain 
 
 box 
 said: "My dear, that man is like a sealed 
 
 porcelain box ; you cannot tell by the pretty 
 painting on the outside what is going on in- 
 side. Mark me, Marian, the one who breaks 
 through the crust of this conventional Mr. 
 Morris of yours is likely to be surprised." 
 
 Last evening when the "porcelain box" 
 and I returned from our call, we met Tom 
 Carroll coming out of our house. He refused 
 my invitation to come in and instead, took it 
 for granted that Mr. Morris was going away 
 also, and the two went down the avenue to- 
 gether. To-night Tom called again, and 
 asked quite casually : 
 
 "Marian, what might be the name of the 
 gilded youth I found lingering on your door- 
 stone last evening f " 
 
 I answered coldly, "You heard his name, 
 you saw him and so you know all I can tell 
 you." He smiled indulgently and continued 
 teasingly : 
 
 " Big girl, are n't you ashamed not to play 
 35 
 
CONFESSIONS TO A HEATHEN IDOL 
 
 fair ! Why don 't you take some one of your 
 size and leave little boys alone 1 " 
 
 " I prefer little boys j they are far more in- 
 Boys vs. Men teresting than men." He raised his eyebrows 
 incredulously and I hastened to say " One sees 
 in boys so much of promise." 
 
 " And in men so little of fulfilment, I sup- 
 pose you think." I looked out of the window 
 with obvious patience and he continued, " O, 
 you cheerful pessimist ! There is a mighty 
 small chance of reforming you 5 the tail to 
 your social kite has always been a string of 
 boys. " 
 
 " Glory be ! " I ejaculated ; then I asked 
 with some asperity, " What have you against 
 boys?" 
 
 "I, Oh, I have n't any prejudice against 
 A beguiling boys, nor against pollywogs either, for that 
 callowness ma tter. What I complain of is that a woman 
 of your age and wisdom should find such ap- 
 parent satisfaction in callowness. Great Scott ! 
 If I were like you in that particular I 'd be 
 consistent and devote myself to calves. Just 
 think how interesting a calf looks, gazing at 
 you with wide open, unspeculative eyes, his 
 36 
 
THE ANOMALOUS MR. MORRIS 
 
 legs spread far apart to secure breadth of base 
 as he now and then makes purposeless lunges Boys vs. 
 at you, his tail shaking in infantile glee. Pic- calves 
 ture it, Marian, and confess that a calf is the 
 quintessence of youth and inexperience, and 
 then explain, if you please, why you stop at 
 boys when you might taste the intoxication 
 of calves." 
 
 I made no answer but fell back on my smile, 
 which I knew would try him to the limit of A smile 
 endurance. He once asked me if I set my 
 smile with thumb-screws ; and I assured him 
 that I set it despite thumb-screws and several 
 other forms of torture. I smiled to-night 
 because I did not know how to answer him. I 
 have discovered that sometimes an accidental 
 slip of the foot is likely to start a whole land- 
 slide, and I make a practice of not precipi- 
 tating anything that I cannot stay on top of. 
 Healthful habit, that ; but it requires discre- 
 tion and agility. 
 
 37 
 
o 
 
 CHAPTER IV 
 
 TWO KNIGHTS TO THE RESCUE 
 
 CTOBEE, STH : I have been inanely good 
 One of tJie in- \-S of late and I hope you have noticed it. 
 
 conveniences Now hold Qn to QUr se lf. C ontrol while I COn- 
 of being very 
 
 lad fess that when I am stupid I am usually very 
 
 good. This is n't because goodness is stupid, 
 but somehow in my case it is almost always 
 the direct result of unenterprising stupidity. 
 Well, I am glad to have experienced this good 
 " spell." I should like to average about me- 
 dium on the day of judgment so as to keep 
 with the crowd $ and one of the inconveniences 
 of being very bad is that one is obliged to be 
 very good in order to balance the sheet. 
 
 Why should n't I be good? The world turns 
 Life, like an its soft side toward me these days, and I 
 ill-fitting loot sllould be ii evc it were made of eider-down if it 
 
 38 
 
TWO KNIGHTS TO THE KESCUE 
 
 were not for a sharp edge somewhere, always 
 cutting into my heart. " What sharp edge? " 
 do you ask f Oh, little god, if you ask ques- 
 tions you are no better than a mere mortal ; 
 and I will never confess to a cross-examiner, 
 never. If you were made of flesh and blood 
 instead of teak-wood, you would know that 
 the happiest life is like an ill-fitting boot it 
 is sure to pinch somewhere. I should like to 
 take mine off, for a time, and rest. 
 
 It is strange how this power of living comes 
 and goes like tides at flood and ebb. Some- The vital flood 
 times every experience is vital, strong, and 
 worth while ; then follows a period of dreary 
 listlessness. Happy thought ! I wonder if 
 something in your eye suggested it ! I will 
 gear my spiritual machinery like that of a 
 tide-mill, and then both ebb and flood shall 
 grind my grists ; anything, good or bad shall 
 turn my wheels. I am coming to believe that 
 the kind of force applied to living is neither 
 God's concern nor man's, so long as the results 
 are along the upward trend. 
 
 OCTOBER 15TH: A breathlessly busy day, 
 39 
 
CONFESSIONS TO A HEATHEN IDOL 
 
 and I am in a state of rebellion to-night 
 
 To-day's mad against the mad hurry that possesses this day 
 
 hurry an( j generation as, of old, devils possessed the 
 
 swine. We are too busy to live, and have to 
 
 get our experiences by hastily running over a 
 
 card-catalogue of emotions. We know our 
 
 joys and agonies by name, but we have no 
 
 time to reach up and take from the shelf and 
 
 study a genuine volume of life lore. 
 
 To change the metaphor, we have no chance 
 Telescoped to drift and rest. The current is so swift that 
 we are obliged to keep steadily at the oars, 
 drifting in rapids not being a safe pastime. 
 In the land whence you came, Idol, the days 
 are serenely lived hour by hour, and are not 
 telescoped one on another as they are here. 
 In that blessed land the angle of incident is 
 no greater than the angle for reflection. Little 
 god, let us go back there and stay ! 
 
 All of this tirade comes from an attempt of 
 father's to entertain his class, en masse, here 
 at the house this evening ; the preparation for 
 and the event itself have taken all my time 
 and strength for two days. 
 
 As an act of kindly intention on the part 
 40 
 
TWO KNIGHTS TO THE RESCUE 
 
 of a professor toward his pupils ; and as a 
 means of grace to the pupils, I fully approve An immobile 
 of the function. But as a social effort it was www 
 a weird affair. I cannot think of any gather- 
 ing, so perfectly amicable, that was farther 
 from social intercourse than the reception 
 this evening. The young people were fine 
 looking, for the most part, and doubtless in 
 a less constrained situation would have been 
 most brilliant in conversation. But there 
 were such hordes of them that they could not 
 find themselves ; they seemed to be rooted to 
 their seats during all the earlier part of the 
 evening ; whether they were helpless and 
 could not move, or were happy and did not 
 wish to was a problem I could not solve. 
 
 Into this in-statu-quo company Joe brought 
 Mr. Morris and a little later Tom drifted in. Two modern 
 It seemed as if they both discovered my kniffht8 
 perilous situation as hostess at once and each 
 went to work to help me in his own way. 
 Mr. Morris soon had a group around the piano 
 singing college songs with the joyous abandon 
 characteristic of such singing. Tom went 
 into the library and began talking j and in a 
 41 
 
CONFESSIONS TO A HEATHEN IDOL 
 
 few moments lie had uprooted every person 
 in the room much to the relief of the chairs 
 and myself; Tom is a Pied Piper when he 
 makes up his mind to be entertaining and 
 these students gathered around him and very 
 soon shouts of laughter from the group greeted 
 my grateful ears. Tom is inimitable when 
 he tells funny stories j his expression of 
 countenance is serious, almost grave except 
 for a latent twinkle in his eyes ; not until his 
 listeners are laughing and the climax of the 
 story safely passed does his smile show itself ; 
 (I think I told you once that his smile is an 
 exceedingly interesting performance to the on- 
 looker). 
 
 I had barely strength left to thank these 
 
 TJie teacher's two who came to my rescue so nobly. But 
 cheerful self- ^^ ^ were g father said with ft look 
 
 immolation 
 
 of perfect satisfaction : "I think they all had 
 
 a most enjoyable evening, don't you think 
 so?" and I was able to say " Surely they 
 did." Dear old dad ! he lives for his pupils 
 in a way they can never know. The hero on 
 the battle-field lays down his life in one su- 
 preme moment but the true teacher lays down 
 42 
 
TWO KNIGHTS TO THE RESCUE 
 
 his life hour after hour, moment after mo- 
 ment ; and when the last drop of his blood 
 has been poured on this sacrificial altar of his 
 life's work he is tossed aside by the powers 
 that be, because, forsooth, "younger blood" 
 is needed. But it is I, not father, who says 
 these rebellious things. 
 
 OCTOBER 22D : Tom came this morning 
 early and took me for a drive and it was a The miracle 
 memorable experience. Our road took us for f the mists 
 miles along the river's bank, and then led us 
 to the very top of Starrin's mountain. Nature 
 had turned impressionist and splashed the 
 hills with scarlet and wine-color, russet and 
 yellow, olive and emerald. From our moun- 
 tain top the valleys below seemed filled with 
 morning mists fog-seas rifted here and 
 there to give us glimpses of a sea-bottom of 
 green pastures and still waters ; the sudden 
 parting of these mist-billows seemed to me 
 somewhat more of a miracle than the divid- 
 ing of the water of the Ked Sea in days of 
 old. 
 
 I had a deeply satisfactory time with Mother 
 43 
 
CONFESSIONS TO A HEATHEN IDOL 
 
 Nature this morning because I was happy ; 
 
 Nature likes it is only when I am unhappy that she dis- 
 good society Qwns me? and wiu haye naught of me< j 
 
 must give myself to her without any reser- 
 vations if I would experience the blessing 
 of her companionship. Nature is no moralist ; 
 she does not care whether I am good or bad ; 
 all she asks is that I be happy and sympa- 
 thetic. If I cannot be happy without being 
 good, it is my affair and not hers ; she likes 
 "good society " and is n't inquisitive about 
 the wherefore. 
 
 Well, I was " good society " to-day and I 
 Masculine knew the wherefore if Nature did n't. Tom 
 
 and feminine did not say much Ms dashing span of colts 
 
 consciousness 
 
 kept him pretty busy, but I knew his keen 
 
 glance took in all that was worth seeing. Yet 
 his attitude toward the beautiful world was 
 widely different from that of Mr. Morris. 
 The latter enjoys the color and beauty of 
 autumn as he would a lovely woman in a 
 more or less sensuous and personal way. 
 Tom always comprehends something beyond 
 the merely beautiful scene ; a barren desert 
 would mean great things to him. And to-day 
 44 
 
TWO KNIGHTS TO THE RESCUE 
 
 he was comprehending all things nature, 
 me, the horses and yet he was so entirely 
 unconscious of the comprehending ! Men, I 
 have noticed, are usually unconscious of 
 everything of importance ; and women on the 
 other hand, are usually conscious of every- 
 thing of no importance. And by these same 
 tokens, to-day, Tom Carroll was a man, and 
 Marian Lee a woman. 
 
 45 
 
CHAPTER V 
 
 MA BELLE AND TOM DISCUSS THE PROBLEM- 
 NOVEL 
 
 O 
 
 24TH : This afternoon Ma Belle 
 came to see me and found me in the very 
 good company of Mr. Omar Khayyam (al- 
 though probably you and your brother gods 
 would deem him lacking in true reverence). 
 Ma Belle asked me at once : 
 
 An Omar dis- " Why are you reading that book to-day f ' 
 
 cussion u Q]^ because I am trying to find out what 
 
 I am and who God is " I answered craftily, 
 
 knowing that retribution would follow 
 
 swiftly. 
 
 "I can tell you what you are this 
 We must make minute you are a goose. And as to who 
 
 the best of the God may be -that is none of your business. 
 scenery 
 
 nor mine. It is our business to guide our 
 
 little shallops adown the stream of the years 
 
 as best we can and not be fidgeting over 
 
 46 
 
DISCUSSING THE PROBLEM-NOVEL 
 
 where we are going to land or where the 
 
 river flows to. The scenery may be poor A mental 
 
 just low meadows and marshes ; but it is our race - tracJcnot 
 
 a good invest- 
 
 business to make the best of it and the most men t 
 beautiful of it too ; marshes are n't so bad 
 at noon when the dragon-flies are glinting 
 above the reeds, or at sunset when sluggish 
 waters best reflect the sky. As to the Crea- 
 tor, it is impertinent and futile curiosity on 
 your part to be questioning about the way He 
 runs the universe. If you go on like this 
 your thoughts will make a race-track of your 
 mind and gallop around and around on it, 
 never arriving anywhere and wearing you 
 out meanwhile. Turn your questionings out 
 to pasture, my dear, and you will feel much 
 more comfortable and live a healthier life." 
 
 OCTOBER 30TH : Another call from Mr. Mor- 
 ris this evening. I do not know why I Extreme unc- 
 should discuss his calls with you, Small Idol, * ion 
 when almost every evening the drawing-room 
 is frequented by people far more interesting 
 than he could ever be. There were several 
 others here to-night ; someone of them had 
 47 
 
CONFESSIONS TO A HEATHEN IDOL 
 
 been reading Lowell 's "Life and Letters," and 
 the conversation turned upon his poetry. Mr. 
 Morris took a volume of Lowell from the 
 shelf in a manner at once certain and pur- 
 poseful, gave it to me and said " Bead to us." 
 I obeyed meekly and read portions of Under 
 the Willows and a few of the shorter poems ; 
 he then took the book from my hand, turned 
 the leaves rapidly and returned it to me and 
 commanded " Bead this." It was Extreme 
 Unction, a poem which I was wont to read 
 often in my unserene youth. As I read, some- 
 thing of the old fire was rekindled in me ; 
 when I finished, the room was quiet for an 
 embarrassing moment, and then Joe relieved 
 the situation by ejaculating " Gee whiz " j 
 and we all smiled and were grateful for the 
 chance this gave us to get back to the com- 
 fortable level of the commonplace. 
 
 Later, Mr. Morris quite deliberately seated 
 A smoulder- himself at my side on the sofa and I suddenly 
 ing fire felt that j ha d better nave been sea ted else- 
 where. There was a glow smouldering some- 
 where in his brown glass eyes and he murmured 
 so that no one else could hear, " I knew you 
 48 
 
DISCUSSING THE PROBLEM-NOVEL 
 
 would read that poem just as you did " ; and 
 someway, I did not feel like investigating 
 the glow to find out whether it was on or 
 beneath the surface of his eyes ; and I did 
 not feel like asking him what he meant, or, 
 what perplexed me more, the possible inter- 
 est a poem of that character possessed for a 
 painted porcelain box. 
 
 'Tis an uncertain world a regular gam- 
 bling joint ! We cannot even think without This little 
 staking something on the unknown. All the world ~ff ame 
 wisdom concerning humanity which we may 
 attain will never enable us to work out a 
 system whereby we may safely bet on what 
 is hidden in the soul of the next person we 
 happen to meet. Since you are a god I wish 
 you would tell me if you have found there is 
 any certain per-cent in favor of the dealer in 
 this world game ? I doubt it ! 
 
 NOVEMBER TTH : Such a delightful eve- 
 ning ! I wish that I had taken you in Some good 
 my pocket to-night so that you might have 
 caught for yourself the touch and go of con- 
 versation, so impossible to repeat. I went 
 49 
 
CONFESSIONS TO A HEATHEN IDOL 
 
 to Ma Belle's to dine and Tom was there ; he 
 was not invited but he has always had the 
 habit of dropping in for dinner whenever he 
 chose. The two are truly devoted to each 
 other ; Tom has given several reasons for his 
 celibate condition, such as " I did not marry 
 when I was a young fool, and now I am wait- 
 ing until I shall be an old fool," or, "Too 
 many attractive women j my affections are so 
 scattered that if I should collect and bestow 
 them upon only one woman, there would be 
 twelve basketfuls left over and above what 
 she could possibly use." But the reason he 
 most often gives is that he was born too late 
 to win Madam Lee, and in my heart I have 
 always felt that they were mated in spirit. 
 They fit each other socially, and each leads 
 the other on to saying clever things. To- 
 night, something was said about the problems 
 of existence, and Tom said : 
 
 " A true problem is one that has two solu- 
 A peculiarity tions at least; and its peculiarity is that 
 
 of some whichever wa y you solve it you wish you had 
 problems 
 
 tried the other." 
 
 " That is because we never seem to know 
 50 
 
DISCUSSING THE PROBLEM-NOVEL 
 
 beforehand which is birth-right and which is 
 pottage, and a mess is all we get out of it ; Birthright or 
 the true philosopher takes the mess, what- # otta 9 e 
 ever it may be, and believes it is the best 
 thing in the world," said Ma Belle. 
 
 " But how dare we be so mendacious with 
 our own consciences?" I demanded. 
 
 "A conscience what is that?" asked Tom 
 with a good simulation of mystification. 
 
 "A fakir with whom we eternally haggle, 
 who says to us, do this or that thing and I Some defini- 
 
 will give you for it an ounce of peace or a twns f 
 
 conscience 
 pennyweight of comfort," suavely explained 
 
 Belle mere. 
 
 " It ought to be a strong creative force ; 
 but it is mostly a contemptible, irritating, 
 little gad-fly, eternally dodging about to get 
 its sting into the most sensitive spot," con- 
 tinued Tom soberly. 
 
 " I know what my conscience is," I ad- 
 mitted ruefully ; " it is a headlight misplaced 
 and carried at the rear of my earthly train, 
 by means of which I am always discovering 
 dangers and dreadful pitfalls in the road just 
 passed in apparent safety ; and that is what 
 51 
 
CONFESSIONS TO A HEATHEN IDOL 
 
 makes my repentance most perfunctory." 
 Tom laughed and said : 
 
 " Good girl ! I envy you. My conscience 
 works thus : it permits me no comfort from 
 conscious rectitude, and allows no reckless 
 bliss when I finally get the bits in my teeth 
 and speed along the path of forbidden de- 
 lights ; the result is a wide and diversified 
 discomfort." 
 
 "Why don't you write an ethical novel for 
 the instruction of both the good and the bad?" 
 I hazarded. 
 
 " Ethical novels have such a pernicious in- 
 fluence" objected Ma Belle. " Heading one is 
 like wading through the mire for the sake of 
 cleaning one's soiled skirts at the end." 
 
 "Oh, no!" said Tom, reassuringly, "when 
 
 A new kind of I write one it will be most confoundingly 
 
 ethical novel ethicaL j am wimng to admit that such 
 
 books usually take the sinner by the hand 
 and lead him on to iniquities which he had 
 not before even dreamed of ; they find the 
 narrow path by exploiting the broad way first. 
 But my novel is going to get in its work be- 
 hind the wayfarer j it will be no stumbling- 
 52 
 
DISCUSSING THE PKOBLEM-NOVEL 
 
 block but a boulder swiftly descending the 
 downward path behind him, and he will have 
 to accelerate his speed to save himself on 
 higher ground. My novel shall clatter along 
 at the erring man's heels at such a rate that 
 he will soon find himself sprinting toward the 
 pearly gates in a way that will surprise 
 even St. Peter, who must have witnessed many 
 a close finish." 
 
 " Ethical novels are never read by the bad," 
 explained Ma Belle, " they are read only by Tortlinsonls 
 the good who long to be bad, but dare not j virtue 
 they are read by the Tomlinsons, of whom we 
 have too many in our very respectable midst." 
 
 " I see " said Tom gravely, " you prefer a 
 man to commit murder rather than read 
 about it." 
 
 " What I object to," she answered, " is leav- 
 ing the drama of every -day life and going off 
 and prancing up and down a paper stage. 1 ' 
 
 " How could we, any of us, help prancing 
 up and down with Sentimental Tommy ?" I Sentimental 
 asked. 
 
 "Oh, of course we could not," sighed Ma 
 Belle, "because Sentimental Tommy is pranc- 
 53 
 
CONFESSIONS TO A HEATHEN IDOL 
 
 ing around inside every one of us 5 I find it 
 hard to forgive Barrie for stringing the typi- 
 cal human heart up on a gate post and leav- 
 ing it there bleeding and struggling. I dis- 
 trust an author who has so little delicacy in 
 the matter of turning the human soul inside 
 out." 
 
 " It was ruthless," agreed Tom, " but most 
 authors now-a-days believe that souls rather 
 than coats should be worn wrong side out, 
 showing seams and motley linings j and the 
 more they know the less can they be trusted 
 to be decent with their knowledge." 
 
 " Some people are so vain," interrupted Ma 
 The wise and Belle, "that they look upon everything they 
 
 kind ignore discover about folks as something to print 
 and are silent 
 
 something to put into words in public to make 
 
 for themselves fame which ought to be shame. 
 While a person who is both wise and kind 
 ignores most of the things he finds out about 
 people esprit du corps demands silence. Such 
 knowledge ought to be promptly stored in 
 our mental garrets, and never brought out 
 even to be dusted, much less to be shown to 
 the neighbors. The more one really knows, 
 54 
 
DISCUSSING THE PROBLEM -NOVEL 
 
 the more sedulously, because of noblesse oblige, 
 should one refrain from mentioning it." 
 
 And thus the evening passed in conversation 
 which we three enjoyed. Somebody once said Three of a 
 that we three always think the same, thoughts ***** 
 and say the same things ; but neither Tom 
 nor I can keep abreast of Ma Belle, and we 
 are always infinitely content to trail along be- 
 hind her. 
 
 Tom and I came home by the light of the 
 stars, which is the most beautiful and mys- Stars and 
 terious light that shines upon this world ; I meteors 
 adore the unreality of it. And, too, there is 
 something about being consciously in the 
 presence of so many worlds, and systems of 
 worlds, that makes the ego dwindle to an in- 
 finitesimal point, and naught seems of im- 
 portance. We have no trouble in bearing 
 our burdens when we see self in true perspect- 
 ive, as the merest dot on a little world which 
 is something less than a dot in the stellar uni- 
 verse. A bright meteor shot from zenith to 
 horizon, and Tom remarked : 
 
 " Serves you right, little star ! That ? s 
 what you get for coming too close to another 
 55 
 
CONFESSIONS TO A HEATHEN IDOL 
 
 star ; you should have shunned such danger- 
 ous company and then you might have con- 
 tinued in your cheerful whirl in outer space !" 
 " Outer darkness/ 7 I murmured, " I wonder 
 if it found its own streak of light edifying or 
 amusing." 
 
 " Probably found it warm," said Tom, as he 
 
 Some silences drew my arm closer within his j we walked 
 
 are golden on ^ silence until we reacne d the house and 
 
 bade each other a gentle " good night." Some 
 silences are golden, little god ! 
 
 56 
 
N 
 
 CHAPTER VI 
 
 THE VAGAEIES OF CUPID 
 
 OVEMBEB 20TH : The last time I came 
 to confession the world was all peaches Caviare and 
 and cream ; but to-night it is all caviare and tobasco sauce 
 tobasco sauce. Oh, you poor, innocent, heathen 
 Idol, I never expected to pour into your help- 
 less ears confessions of love affairs I am not 
 quite so juvenile as that, I hope. I meant 
 simply to tell you in abstract statements or 
 in concrete words what I, and a few other 
 people thought about the creaking mechanism 
 of the social world. But queer things have 
 happened to me, so queer that I must tell 
 them to someone, and none but you are suffi- 
 ciently discreet to be trusted with such a tale. 
 Mr. Morris invited me to go to the opera 
 with him this evening ; as Joe and Millie Van After the 
 Tyne were to be of the party, I accepted the 
 invitation, as I always do when Joe's friends 
 57 
 
CONFESSIONS TO A HEATHEN IDOL 
 
 seek to entertain me. It was late when we 
 returned, for the opera was poor and inter- 
 minable ; so out of the kindness of my heart 
 I asked Mr. Morris to come in and as soon as 
 Joe should join us we would search the larder 
 for some refreshments for the inner man. 
 
 Owing to the frugality or the laziness of the 
 
 A dark pro- new maid, whose personal equation I have not 
 
 ending yet mastered? tlie light in the hall had been 
 
 turned off. I went for a match and came 
 back groping for the gas jet when my hand 
 accidentally touched the young man's sleeve. 
 In a breathless second, before I could realize 
 what was happening, I was held fast in a pair 
 of athletic arms and kisses were being depos- 
 ited impartially upon my hair, nose, cheek 
 and lips. I was so stupefied that it seemed 
 an age before I recovered sufficiently to ex- 
 tricate myself. Surprised ? Why, if the stiff, 
 straight, carved, oaken chair in the hall had 
 suddenly embraced me, I should not have 
 been more surprised. I was so rigid with 
 amazement that I failed to appreciate how 
 unseemly it was. I mechanically struck a 
 match and lighted the gas, went into the 
 58 
 
THE VAGARIES OF CUPID 
 
 drawing-room and turned on the light thert 
 before I said or even thought anything. 
 Then I turned and beheld my assailant quite 
 at his ease, leaning his elbow on the mantel and 
 looking intently at the embers in the grate 
 I finally found my voice and said : 
 
 "Mr. Morris, will you kindly explain to me 
 what all this means ? " 
 
 "It simply means that I love you," he 
 replied in a monotone, as cold as if he were A well insu- 
 
 reading the words carved in the marble of the latcd declar ~ 
 
 ation of love 
 mantel. I gasped with astonishment. It was 
 
 as difficult to connect those cold words with 
 love as it was to connect that frigid man with 
 the anything but frigid kisses which made 
 my face still tingle. 
 
 "Love me," I cried "why, you might as Cupid, a poor 
 well love your grandmother !" calculator 
 
 " I do love her, but not as I love you." 
 This without a trace of a smile. I made a 
 vigorous effort for self-possession and at last 
 said with a laugh which was half a sob of 
 fright : 
 
 " Well, love me if you must, but never, 
 never kiss me again as long as you live ! " 
 59 
 
CONFESSIONS TO A HEATHEN IDOL 
 
 Then he turned toward me a face still calm 
 except for a flame in either cheek, and a look 
 in his eyes that will never let me call them 
 again " doll's eyes," and said in a low tense 
 voice : 
 
 " Oh, I know well enough that you will say 
 A quite differ- it is a wild and foolish infatuation on my 
 
 ent sort of part Maybe it is, but it is what I have been 
 love affair 
 
 waiting for all these years. I am no boy; I 
 
 am twenty-eight years old with a business 
 experience behind me after I left college 
 which led me to come here for farther tech- 
 nical training j you have made the mistake of 
 persistently classing me with Joe and the 
 other undergraduates. Moreover, I have had 
 love-affairs before, but they were not 
 like this. You fascinated me from the first 
 night we met at that dance ; you say different 
 things, you feel different things, and you live 
 a more interesting and wider life than any 
 other woman I have ever known ; and I love 
 you, my lady, with all my heart. I am by no 
 means a poor man, and I have no hindering 
 family ties. I may marry when and whom I 
 choose, and by the eternal heavens, Marian 
 60 
 
THE VAGARIES OF CUPID 
 
 Lee, I choose to marry you as soon as I can." 
 This last was said with so much force that it 
 seemed a command j and I was silent, wrestling 
 with several surprising feminine emotions. 
 He continued : 
 
 " I know too well that I am not your equal j 
 you have made good use of the dozen years A dangerous 
 
 which lie between us, and I shall never catch understan(l - 
 
 ing 
 
 up. But I know I can make you happy j I 
 
 have always felt it for I understand you to 
 the last and least of your thoughts and 
 emotions. You would be surprised if you 
 knew how perfectly how entirely I under- 
 stand you ; I have never dared to tell you 
 lest you think me unpardonably impertinent. 
 Though you may not love me now, Mrs. Lee, 
 because loving me has been farthest from your 
 thoughts or present considerations, yet you 
 shall learn to love me ! Before God I swear 
 it, you shall learn to love me ! " He strode 
 over to where I was sitting and, placing his 
 hand on my forehead, he turned my face so 
 that my eyes met his ; what I saw rendered 
 me silent, but there flashed through my mind, 
 "Mark me, Marian, the one who breaks 
 61 
 
CONFESSIONS TO A HEATHEN IDOL 
 
 through the crust of this conventional Mr. 
 Morris of yours is likely to be surprised.'' 
 After looking at me for a seemingly intermin- 
 able time, he went back and again leaned upon 
 the mantel. I finally " came to " and 
 managed to falter out : 
 
 " But I am pretty nearly old enough to be 
 your mother." 
 
 " Fortunately you are not " ; was all he 
 replied. 
 
 " But it is simply ridiculous in you to wish to 
 marry a woman so much older than yourself." 
 
 " It is not ridiculous for a man to marry 
 Love vs. tomb- the woman he loves best; you will grant 
 . stones that much, will you not? Cupid has never 
 been noted for taking an interest in the re- 
 spective ages of his victims ; his arrow is not 
 a tombstone bearing inscriptions cetat 40, cetat 
 28." Having nothing to say to this statement, 
 a silence fell between us which was broken by 
 the sound of Joe's footsteps on the walk ; then 
 he said : 
 
 "I shall not press you for an answer. I 
 shall not bore you with protestations ; but I 
 62 
 
THE VAGARIES OF CUPID 
 
 shall win you, my lady, in the very teeth of 
 fate, I shall win you." 
 
 Joe entered and exclaimed reproachfully, 
 "But Marnie, have n't you anything for us to 
 eat and drink? Theo looks awfully hungry, 
 and I am sure that is what he is waiting for." 
 
 " Yes, Joe, obviously that is what I have 
 been waiting for," declared my companion The cover off 
 
 with utter sang froid. I do not know what the P 1 * 
 
 box 
 happened after this. The porcelain box kept 
 
 his cover on, and there was no self-conscious- 
 ness or embarrassment in his manner 5 he went 
 away without shaking hands, but with a cool 
 " Thank you, good night." 
 
 Now what in the world am I to do, little 
 Wiseacre f Please stop smiling and give me a TOO near the 
 little sensible advice ; this comes too near the rea>l ihing 
 real thing to please me. In the first place, I 
 have not the slightest idea of marrying His 
 Lordship, I could not even imagine such a 
 contingency ; but don't you dare to tell it to 
 anyone, I may not be able to avoid it if he 
 keeps on at this rate. There is something of Woman, stiU 
 the savage left in every woman, however civi- a dava 9 6 
 63 
 
CONFESSIONS TO A HEATHEN IDOL 
 
 lized she may appear to the public ; and she 
 thoroughly enjoys the sensation of being 
 clubbed into obedience by the male who sets 
 himself up as her lord and master. 
 
 Oh, I have had boys in love with me before 
 
 Emotions on now ! It 15 a sign of a good, generous, normal 
 dnu parade boy to fall in loye with ft woman old enougll 
 
 so that he knows it is out of the question to 
 
 marry her. I never worry when a boy falls 
 
 in love with me, for it is sure to benefit him 
 
 in the end ; it is a sort of a dress parade for 
 
 his emotions. He tries to place his affections 
 
 on me although he knows they do not fit well, 
 
 pinching here and hanging loosely there ; but 
 
 lie makes me wear them, willy nilly, until 
 
 some fine day he suddenly discovers some girl 
 
 whom he knows they were made for. Then 
 
 he takes them off me at once, without any 
 
 compunctions about my catching cold, and 
 
 forthwith puts them on her, and I am the 
 
 first one he calls on to admire the perfect fit. 
 
 It never seemed worth while to worry 
 
 A healthy about any of these boys j they were only exer- 
 
 heart-exercise ^fog their hearts as a baby exercises and 
 
 stretches its muscles. The only concern I had 
 
 64 
 
THE VAGARIES OF CUPID 
 
 in the matter was lest I fail in one jot or tittle 
 
 in being the ideal woman j for, although the The inconve- 
 
 boy may have longed for my love, yet had I nience f be ' 
 
 ing a goddess 
 
 given it I would have tumbled off my pedes- 
 tal and crushed the youth in the process. All 
 that he asked was to worship his goddess un 
 disturbed by any of the facts of the case or by 
 any display of human emotions on her part. 
 But this affair is very different ; it is a man 
 I have to deal with ; moreover he is a man Commanding 
 with a dangerous way of subduing women- vs -P leadin ff 
 folk he does not ask or plead, lie commands. 
 
 65 
 
CHAPTER VII 
 
 THE STORY OF A MARRIED LIFE 
 
 NOVEMBER 20TH (Continued) : One mar- 
 riage is all of this kind of experience 
 that I have wished for in one life, little god ; 
 I wonder what you would think about that 
 marriage if I should tell you all that I know 
 about it and all that it taught me ! I wonder 
 how it would seem to put into words the 
 memories and the lessons relating to it which 
 have become shadowy dwellers in the realm 
 of my inner consciousness. 
 
 In a way I was a lonely child, for my 
 A restricted mother died in my childhood ; and this ac- 
 cMdhood counts f or mtl ch that you find in my nightly 
 whisperings to you. I fell to the lot of a 
 maiden aunt whose path was ever the narrow 
 one of rectitude and propriety. My child- 
 hood was restricted, but it was happy enouglu 
 06 
 
THE STORY OF A MARRIED LIFE 
 
 I was taught to knit and sew and embroider. 
 
 I was also taught to play the piano after a Four years in 
 
 fashion, though this was considered a radical 
 
 leg 
 measure by my Quaker relatives. When I 
 
 was thirteen I was sent to a young ladies' semi- 
 nary ; while there I became fired with the 
 ambition to go to college, where in due time 
 I spent four happy years. Do you know what 
 a woman's college is, Heathen Idol ? It is a 
 place where things are done according to 
 ideals. Any place governed by women of high 
 culture and aspirations is always dominated 
 by feminine ideals, which, by the way, reach 
 about two octaves higher on life's keys than 
 the ideals of the world at large. It was no 
 sinecure, the place of a student in a woman's 
 college ; I felt in honor bound to work hard 
 and achieve much, and, above all, to live on the 
 high peaks in the rarefied air of exalted ideas. 
 Yet the years were truly happy, largely be- 
 cause of the congenial companionship I found 
 there as well as the interesting work j they 
 were years of faith in the world and of hal- 
 lowed belief in man's knightly honor, noble 
 deeds and chaste love years when the mil- 
 67 
 
CONFESSIONS TO A HEATHEN IDOL 
 
 Geese and lennium seemed at hand years when all the 
 swans g eese on the world-pond were graceful swans. 
 Meantime father had married again, and 
 my step-mother was not of the traditional 
 kind. She was the gentlest, kindest most 
 inefficient little lady who ever undertook to 
 guide a step-child or bring up children of her 
 own $ from the first she leaned on me help- 
 lessly when I was at home. 
 
 I was barely nineteen when I graduated 
 
 Plans and from college and returned home filled with 
 
 ambitions zea lous ambitions to keep on with certain 
 
 favorite studies, and at the same time help 
 
 mamma keep house and care for baby Joe. 
 
 Thanks to Aunt Emily's early training, I was 
 
 capable and methodical in household affairs j 
 
 and I was really accomplishing what I had 
 
 planned, to mamma's great delight, when I 
 
 met Paul. 
 
 I had never associated much with men or 
 A girVs girl boys ; Aunt Emily had never allowed me to 
 go to a co-educational school in my youth, 
 because she had forsaken the ways of her an- 
 cestors and had become a high-church woman. 
 During my vacations with her or at home I 
 68 
 
THE STOEY OF A MARRIED LIFE 
 
 had little opportunity to meet and become 
 acquainted with members of the opposite sex. The meeting 
 Now that I was graduated, a great party was mth Paul 
 made for me, and at this, my first plunge into 
 the social world, I met Paul. He was hand- 
 some enough to be any girl's ideal 5 he was 
 a thoroughly healthy, athletic, wholesome 
 young man, with little careless ways in deal- 
 ing with women which always piqued as well 
 as interested them. From the first he was to me 
 a god straight from Olympus. Through lack 
 of opportunity, I had never had sentimental 
 relations with any man; and I had always 
 been too sensible to indulge in them with 
 women. Hence, it is little wonder that when 
 the tide once started, it came in a flood and 
 swept all before it. With Paul it was much 
 the same ; we were both wildly in love, and The high tide 
 as there was no good reason for waiting, we f ^ ve 
 were married on my twentieth birthday. 
 
 Does Your Teak-wood Highness perchance 
 know what marriage is f In your home temple Marriage a 
 
 did those weighed down by marital troubles com P ulsor y 
 
 education 
 ever place offerings before you ? I have 
 
 vague ideas of what marriage is like under 
 69 
 
CONFESSIONS TO A HEATHEN IDOL 
 
 the shadow of Fujiyama ; but I have a very 
 definite notion of what it is like in the land of 
 the free and the home of the brave. Here it 
 is a compulsory education, and it is about the 
 only institution we have which can be de- 
 pended upon to inculcate wisdom and ripen 
 character. 
 
 But I had no such idea of marriage when I 
 Matrimony's entered upon that honorable estate. To me, 
 rule of three marr j a g e mea nt bliss unalloyed the multi- 
 plying of the happiness of life into ecstacy, 
 and the dividing of the trials of life into 
 quite infinitesimal fractions. I knew that 
 Paul did not have any faults, and I humbly 
 hoped to eliminate my own through associa- 
 tion with him. In fact, I in no wise differed 
 in my views about marriage from any and 
 every other person who marries for love. 
 Luckily, the awakening usually comes gradu- 
 ally ; but to a girl who has known only 
 women it brings a terror which can only be 
 realized through experience. 
 
 I think I gained the first inkling of the 
 
 Browning a truth through the discovery that Paul always 
 sedative went ^ sleep ^en j read to him form 
 
 70 
 
THE STOKY OF A MARKIED LIFE 
 
 Browning. Paul was a college man, and I 
 
 took it for granted that his literary tastes The gameness 
 
 were of the highest character. Our courtship of Fra Lj 
 
 Lippi 
 
 had been so short and breathless that we had 
 evidently never found time to talk of any- 
 thing so tangible as literature. I naturally 
 expected that our evenings together would 
 be like those I had spent with Miss Murray, 
 Marcia Burton and my other college friends 
 when we gathered for mental refreshment in 
 some cosy room of our dormitory. So ob- 
 sessed was I with this idea that it took me a 
 long time to realize that Paul was always 
 bored by Browning. As I remember, he never 
 found anything of interest written by that 
 great poet except Fra Lippo .lAppi, and he ex- 
 plained this exception by saying " The old 
 duffer was so game/ 7 as if he felt he must 
 apologize for his singular taste. 
 
 In looking back from my present stand- 
 point, I can understand that Paul must have Base-ball 
 made a like unhappy discovery about me 
 when he patiently tried to initiate me into brutal 
 the mysteries of base-ball and foot-ball. For 
 I unhesitatingly pronounced the one stupid 
 71 
 
CONFESSIONS TO A HEATHEN IDOL 
 
 and the other brutal and after a few trials I 
 declined to go with him to witness either. 
 Paul took the matter with masculine philos- 
 ophy and went cheerfully by himself to see 
 his favorite games j he regarded my attitude 
 as truly feminine and, therefore, to be tolerated 
 and ignored. 
 
 But I took no such comfortable view of his 
 What a man shortcomings. I was crushed by the thought 
 
 learns m ^at k e w j lom j worshipped had no tastes in 
 college 
 
 common with mine. I tried to discover what 
 
 he had studied in college, and what he cared 
 for ; I found his most vivid memories of his 
 college days related to proud records made by 
 the foot-ball team or the crew to both of which 
 he had belonged. Incidentally he seemed to 
 care for discussions of railroads, tariffs, or 
 currency reform or supply and demand of 
 various uninteresting commodities ; his only 
 clear ideas of any historical period seemed to 
 be connected with the making of tariff laws 
 or experiments in inflating currency, which 
 were the parts of history that I had skipped 
 as far as I was allowed to. Secretly, I had 
 always regarded political economy as a 
 72 
 
THE STORY OF A MARRIED LIFE 
 
 fertile field for the planting of personal 
 opinions which could never reach the fruition An unripe 
 of positive proof; so I had little patience harvest 
 that my hero should care for this weedy 
 harvest. 
 
 My dear Idol, you are a stranger in this 
 western world of progress and woman's WJiyawoman 
 
 triumph : so I will tell you now that there is ^.^ a 
 
 Philistine 
 
 no Philistine among them all so intolerant 
 and self-centered as the woman educated by 
 and among women ; and the reason for this 
 lies in the excess of feminine influence. It is 
 largely because woman is not satisfied with 
 less than knowing all at once. Man plods 
 along in his investigations knowing that he 
 will, at death, have pushed his way only a 
 step or two into the great unknown. "Woman 
 is impatient and naturally will study only 
 along those lines where finality seems attain- 
 able. And when she teaches, she holds her- 
 self strictly to facts and deals only with what 
 she deems known or knowable, and "what she 
 don't know is n't knowledge." Her belief in 
 what she has learned is vital ; there is a fierce 
 earnestness in both teacher and pupil that 
 73 
 
CONFESSIONS TO A HEATHEN IDOL 
 
 will not admit of anything that may not be 
 Woman would learned and expressed with exactness, except 
 
 reduce all in Qne cLi rec ti on . In religious speculation 
 
 things to 
 
 terms of i n thinking out the unknowable of the soul 
 herself woman finds a deep satisfaction. But this comes 
 from the same impatient desire to know all 
 to express the workings of the universe in 
 terms of herself. Having reduced everything 
 in the known world to her own comprehen- 
 sion, she reaches out after the first great cause 
 and the final great results, and, unabashed, 
 proceeds to grasp them in her own little 
 hands. Woman is not a Philistine because of 
 self-conceit ; on the contrary she walks with 
 humility alon^ the paths of knowledge. But 
 her standards are fixed and her faith in what 
 she has been taught is literal, unyielding and 
 unwavering. 
 
 Such a Philistine was 1 5 the only women I 
 Philistine had known who did not appreciate Browning 
 wedded to did t h th temerity to confess it. The 
 athlete 
 
 only women I had known who cared naught 
 
 for Shakespeare except when they saw his 
 
 plays acted by a Booth or Irving were shallow 
 
 and to be pitied. The only women I had 
 
 74 
 
THE STORY OF A MARRIED LIFE 
 
 known who cared nothing for the music of 
 Richard Wagner were those who made no 
 pretence to either musical taste or knowledge. 
 Yet, here I was married to a man who went 
 to sleep while listening to Browning's greatest 
 poems, who had never read a Shakespeare 
 play in his life, and who openly declared that 
 Gilbert and Sullivan had done infinitely more 
 for music and humanity than the great 
 Wagner. 
 
 Yet these differences were only the lesser 
 and superficial ones with which I found The antipodal 
 
 myself confronted. The vast difference in 'tan^ointsof 
 
 man and wo- 
 the antipodal standpoints of the masculine man 
 
 and the feminine were a source of deeper per- 
 plexity to me. One of the beautiful things 
 about my friendship with women was the 
 perfect understanding they accorded me j 
 when I married I believed that in the man I 
 loved I should always find the same delight- 
 ful comprehension of myself. During our 
 engagement I believed that I had it j I looked 
 into Paul's eyes and saw it there ; I touched 
 his hand and the sense of it thrilled me 
 through and through. Little by little the 
 75 
 
CONFESSIONS TO A HEATHEN IDOL 
 
 truth dawned upon me that Paul understood 
 me not at all ; and worse than that, his mind 
 was wont to wander to other things when I 
 was trying to explain myself ; he apparently 
 did not care to understand me. 
 
 And more vital than all was the difference 
 TJie difference between man's love and woman's love. The 
 
 between man's conviction fi na n y came to me that what was 
 love and wo- 
 man's love of the spirit to me was merely of the senses to 
 
 him ; and in the bitterness of my heart, I 
 came to believe that man's love had for its 
 basis utter selfishness. What would have 
 been the outcome if I had brooded over these 
 things alone and unaided, I do not know. 
 But I had a strong and understanding friend 
 in Paul's mother. She said to me one day 
 rather abruptly : 
 
 "Child, don't think that men and women 
 are alike ; they are as different as the poles." 
 
 "I am finding that out," I answered bit- 
 terly. She looked at me keenly and said : 
 
 " Marian, you are on the wrong track ; you 
 
 A reconstruo- are trying to reconstruct your husband to fit 
 Uon of ideals p ideals wMle it would be mucn more to 
 
 neoessar* * 
 
 the point to reconstruct your ideals to fit 
 
 76 
 
THE STOKY OF A MARRIED LIFE 
 
 your husband. Change your plan ; study your 
 husband sympathetically j go over into his 
 territory instead of trying to pull him over 
 into yours. Paul is a good man and has good 
 ability, although he is not very scholarly nor 
 very profound. I know that, for I have 
 watched him carefully from babyhood up ; but 
 you will find that he has good judgment and 
 common sense. You are cleverer than he, 
 and for that reason you should be mistress of 
 the situation. Study your husband, learn his 
 needs and fill them ; and, I assure you, he will 
 be as wax in your hands." 
 
 " The one thing that I have beyond all 
 despised is the woman who manages her hus- 
 band," I exclaimed indignantly, " it is a sordid 
 relation, and I will have none of it." 
 
 "Tut, tut," said mamma, "There are two 
 sides to that question j the management of the The right way 
 
 woman who works her husband for her own 1 ^ an ^ e a 
 
 husband 
 
 selfish ends may deserve your contempt. 
 But the management of the wife who is wise 
 and unselfish and which has for its end the 
 happiness of her husband and the peace of 
 her home is something very different. There 
 77 
 
CONFESSIONS TO A HEATHEN IDOL 
 
 was never yet a happy and harmonious 
 Matrimony on marriage without much management on the 
 
 the gobeUnk part of e i t her husband or wife or both ; and 
 plan 
 
 the one who does it the best is the one who 
 
 wields the most power in the home as well as 
 out of it. You know how the children make 
 gobelinks by placing a drop of ink in a 
 folded paper and then squeezing it into 
 strange figures which are perfectly sym- 
 metrical when the paper is unfolded ! Well, 
 a successful marriage does not require that 
 the two parties become exactly alike as are 
 the two halves of a gobelink. You must be 
 careful, Marian, you are building your hurts 
 into a precipice which, all too soon, neither 
 you nor Paul will be able to scale." 
 
 " Paul does not and never can understand 
 me," I cried j and she answered with deep 
 meaning : 
 
 " Ah, my dear, you would be most uncom- 
 Tke wise wo- fortable if he did. That you could wish it 
 
 man does not S h ws your profound ignorance of men : for 
 wish to be too 
 
 well under- the woman who really knows men, would not 
 
 stood for worlds have herself translated over into 
 the masculine understanding. Be thankful 
 
 78 
 
THE STORY OF A MAKRIED LIFE 
 
 that your husband does not understand you 
 and never will. But are you sure that you 
 are trying to understand Paul ? You can 
 never do it from your own pinnacle. Come 
 down, my dear, to the masculine level and 
 begin like a child to learn your lesson." 
 
 She came over to me and gave me one of 
 her rare kisses and then said : " Forgive my Which is real 
 
 lecture, child, but the test of character lies in and which is 
 
 imitation f 
 accepting and making the best of that which 
 
 IS, and not in wearing one's self out against its 
 immutability." She took my hand tenderly 
 in hers and continued with a smile. " When 
 little girls who love dolls see a baby they are 
 wont to regard it as a real live dolly, and never 
 for a moment realize that their doll is an 
 imitation baby. Study your real, little girl, 
 and see if your ideal has even the virtue of 
 being a good imitation." 
 
 There is no person so helpful to a wife as a 
 wise, sympathetic mother-in-law. I pondered A wise woth- 
 
 long on her words. The Is of my life seemed er - in - law a 
 
 wife's best 
 to be utter ruin of ideals and happiness ; if friend 
 
 there was any way to make " the best of it " 
 I was willing to try. 
 
CONFESSIONS TO A HEATHEN IDOL 
 
 What at first amazes and then thwarts a 
 Marts primi- woman in her attempt to understand a man 
 
 tweness i a is that he is so primitive and simple, while 
 stumbling 
 Uock to sne i s so complex and intricate. This is quite 
 
 women %$ much of an obstacle to woman's under- 
 standing of man as to man's understanding of 
 woman. 
 
 I followed mamma's advice ; since Paul 
 Base-ball vs. would not listen when I read Browning, I 
 Browning soll g n t assiduously to find something to which 
 he would listen with interest and pleasure. I 
 discovered that he responded to Short Sixes 
 and to Soldiers Three, and, to my surprise, I 
 found wholesome happiness for myself in such 
 reading. Since he repudiated Wagner, I 
 played for him gay bits from Rubinstein and 
 movements from the lighter operas. I ear- 
 nestly put my well trained intellect to fathom- 
 ing the mysteries of base-ball ; and I steeled 
 my sensibilities until I could witness with- 
 out flinching, gladiatorial combats between 
 gigantic elevens. I secretly began reading 
 Adams and Mill until I finally began to com- 
 prehend something of the principles of politi- 
 cal economy, and could listen intelligently 
 80 
 
THE STORY OF A MAEEIED LIFE 
 
 while Paul elucidated his views on various 
 phases of this great science. I did ail of these Learning to 
 things half-heartedly and solely because I be- Usten 
 lieved mamma to be a very wise woman. But 
 the results proved so gratifying that I was 
 inspirited and mightily encouraged. Paul re- 
 sponded quickly to my new attitude ; he was 
 merry and truly happy in our home, and 
 never again evinced restlessness when we 
 spent evenings by ourselves. 
 
 Then came to me what must always be the 
 supreme experience of woman's life that of Motherhood 
 
 motherhood. Perhaps of all the revelations the su P reme 
 
 experience of 
 that it brought to me the most precious was W0 man 
 
 the true meaning of man's love. Paul was 
 uplifted by the consciousness of the little life 
 dependent upon him, and his tenderness and 
 care for me were unbounded. When at last, 
 he held our little daughter in. his arms, I felt 
 that again he embodied my ideal of man- 
 hood. The months which followed were the 
 happiest of my life. Together we watched 
 the entrancing baby ways with adoring eyes ; 
 and the astonishing growth of baby intelli- 
 gence with the rapturous sense of possession. 
 81 
 
CONFESSIONS TO A HEATHEN IDOL 
 
 Then came the days of despair when she 
 sickened. 
 
 Dear Idol, sometime in your far away tem- 
 The death of pie, a mother has stood before you mute with 
 the First-born the despair t h at fin e d her breast when she 
 gazed into the dull eyes of her sick baby ! 
 Though she belonged to another race and 
 another land, the feeling was the same, for 
 it is ever the same when death claims the first- 
 born. 
 
 With the agony of grief, came to me the 
 full realization of my utter dependence upon 
 Paul's love. He was stronger than I j and for 
 all my spiritual aspirations, his vision was 
 clearer and his faith more firm than mine. 
 Then came the second blow, a thousand times 
 more terrible than the first. 
 
 It was not of death that I meant to tell you ; 
 
 The Suttee I meant only to say that as life threw wide 
 
 of Gil lands Qpen ^ doQr to the h ap pi ness and growth 
 
 of motherhood, it was closed and I was thrust 
 back. As I was laboriously overcoming my 
 selfishness and righting my ill-formed ideals, 
 and saw before me the development and 
 82 
 
THE STOKY OF A MAK&IED LIFE 
 
 larger opportunities of wifehood, the black 
 portal was again lowered before me and I 
 must turn back alone. You did not come 
 from the land of the suttee, yet I fancy that 
 rite is not essentially different from the inner 
 experience of any widow in any land who has 
 fathomed the depths of a husband's tender- 
 ness and has learned to depend upon his 
 
 love. 
 
 
 
 Some there be who are privileged to mourn 
 as they long to mourn, yet who shall say that TJiepotent key 
 it is loyal to the dead or best for the living ! 
 Grief and loss are mystic keys, and they may 
 lock us each in a lonely cell, or they may un- 
 lock the gates that lead to a larger activity. 
 One or the other must happen, since nothing 
 can ever be again as it was before. 
 
 Almost immediately, I was called home by 
 the illness of my step-mother, and again was 
 to encounter the dread mystery of death. I 
 had no time for thought under the duties 
 which fell upon my unused but willing shoul- 
 ders. I went through the days unfalteringly, 
 and all I knew was that I ached. The ego 
 83 
 
CONFESSIONS TO A HEATHEN IDOL 
 
 was submerged in a dim sub-consciousBess oi 
 
 pain and the days were too short for the work 
 
 I had to do. There are some periods in life 
 
 The welcome when one is grateful for the lash in the hand 
 
 lash in the o f j) u ty . one welcomes the blows since they 
 \and of Duty 
 
 serve to hurry one on through the hours, un- 
 til night and sleep of exhaustion shut the door 
 behind a day full of ignored memories. 
 
 Only a brief four years had elapsed since I 
 left that home a bride, and again I was in it 
 with the necessity upon me of giving constant 
 care to my delicate baby brother and what of 
 cheer was possible to my bereaved father. As 
 I look back, I cannot remember how those 
 first years were lived. I went on talking with 
 people and being friends with people, kissing 
 those I loved and helping those dependent up- 
 on me but there was nothing of all this that 
 was real. Acts are only real when we do them 
 wholly and heartily j something was gone out 
 of me so that I could not give myself entirely 
 Tlie automa- to any one or anything I was an automaton. 
 ton I stopped suffering because my powers for 
 suffering seemed so utterly inadequate. I did 
 not worry because I had lost the power of 
 84 
 
THE STOEY OF A MARRIED LIFE 
 
 worrying. I was not serene, I was simply 
 stony. 
 
 . . . 
 
 After all this, do you think I am likely to 
 marry again ? To take upon myself new and 
 vital problems to solve at the expense of well 
 earned serenity and arduously attained hap- 
 piness? Verily, I say you nay. 
 
CHAPTER VIII 
 
 MUSINGS CONCERNING SECOND MARRIAGES. 
 HILDA 
 
 NOVEMBER 21ST : You look wearily out 
 ., of your upturned eyes to-night, you poor 
 
 roses dear ^ and j fear tliat y OUr r le as con f essor j s 
 
 becoming onerous ; but you must really con- 
 tinue to listen. This morning there came for 
 me a half bushel of Jacqueminot roses, superb 
 flowers, and I tried to arrange them in the 
 drawing room; but they would not disport 
 themselves gracefully and I was as awkward in 
 placing them as I am in placing their giver. 
 All day I have been in a maze of bewilder- 
 ment that I did not say to that man last night, 
 " I shall never, never love you and I shall 
 never, never marry you, and that ends the 
 matter." I think the reason I did not say it 
 was because I felt it would not make the 
 86 
 
SECOND MARKIAGES. HILDA 
 
 slightest impression upon Mm. I felt like a 
 helpless baby last night and I have felt like a 
 " fool "all day. 
 
 After all, youth is the only safe period for 
 being a fool. Then, it is somehow a serious Youth thepre 
 business f it may be tragic j it is always dram- 
 atic and there is always present the blessed 
 unusedness which makes one wonder if any 
 one had ever been such a fool before. But as 
 the years go by the dramatic phase vanishes, 
 and being a fool is simply being one. There 
 is an uninteresting and arid quality in the 
 experience that is not exhilarating ; and when 
 one is two kinds of a fool, as I am this min- 
 ute, the situation is, to say the least, not 
 amusing. As age comes creeping on, there is 
 only one reflection that, in the least, mitigates 
 folly, and that is the beautiful inevitableness Being a fool 
 
 of it ; it makes one wonder if, after all, being apart f the 
 
 great scheme 
 a fool at times is not an integral part of the O f things 
 
 great scheme of things. 
 
 Your Teak- wood Prescience has, I suppose, 
 divined the two phases of my present folly. Thefastina- 
 What do you think of a woman who cares ** of brinks 
 for a man when she has not been invited to, 
 87 
 
CONFESSIONS TO A HEATHEN IDOL 
 
 and then marries a man she does not care for, 
 because she is invited to ? I note that you are 
 turning pale at the contemplation of such a 
 spectacle. Yet, do you really believe such 
 things of me? Perhaps I am only on the 
 brink ; being on the brink of a wild and fool- 
 ish action is quite as fascinating and dangerous 
 as hanging over the brink of a chasm, and 
 gazing at the swirling waters below. 
 
 Nay, Confessor, do not frown ! I still stand 
 The culpabil- by my creed that a second marriage is a sign 
 
 ^ No l ah that the gods fail utterl y to Aculeate wisdom 
 in the human species through experience. If 
 one has experienced one happy marriage, then 
 one should thank heaven and be satisfied ; 
 while if the marriage was unhappy, then 
 one surely ought to thank heaven that it is 
 over, and rest satisfied. The only excuse for 
 second marriage seems to be based on that 
 primal act of Noah's which sent all the crea- 
 tures into the ark two by two. Please do 
 not look so sleepy, I am not going to keep 
 you awake until 2 A. M. as I did last night, 
 for I am sleepy, myself, sir. 
 88 
 
SECOND MARRIAGES. HILDA 
 
 NOVEMBER 22D:-Do you feel pleasant this 
 evening? I hope so, for I feel particularly 
 pleasant and complacent. 
 
 Mr. Morris called this afternoon and my 
 heart was flint ; nay, more, it was a polished A heart hard 
 
 brass ball, and when he attempted to make c iough to a 
 
 tak* a, polish 
 an impression upon it he saw simply his own 
 
 distorted visage looking back at him. I at- 
 tained this condition of polished safety by be 
 ginning my day with calling things by their 
 right names ; and when I call things by their 
 right names, it is my equivalent for direct 
 and forceful profanity. 
 
 NOVEMBER 23D: Has it ever occurred to 
 your oriental mind that I seem to be ac- A social 
 quainted with very few people? Don't be 
 misled ! I have so many people around me 
 all the time that I give myself the luxury 
 of ignoring them when I talk to you. I 
 meant to confess mere abstractions to you and 
 leave out people entirely $ but it has not 
 seemed practical to do this in every case. As 
 a matter of fact my chief fault is that I give 
 89 
 
CONFESSIONS TO A HEATHEN IDOL 
 
 too much of my life away, and to too many 
 people, I suspect. I often feel as if I were a sort 
 of social lunch-counter, always so crowded 
 that no one ever gets a square meal from it. 
 Friends ought really to be an avocation in- 
 stead of a steady occupation. 
 
 NOVEMBER 24TH : I am going to introduce 
 Hilda you to another person to-night my beauti- 
 ful, my most interesting, my dearest Hilda. 
 She has been across the seas six months, and 
 now she is coming home, and her world re- 
 joices. I have always felt that though you 
 were a god, yet being a wooden one there was 
 hardly enough of you to go around if I di- 
 vided you among all 'of my valued friends. 
 Therefore I have been careful as to which 
 ones were permitted to enter your temple ; 
 but for your own enjoyment, I must tell you 
 of Hildegarde, mine own friend. 
 
 When one woman calls another "dearest 
 "Dearest friend" she may mean any one of several 
 
 fnen an j^ings. She may mean by this term, her 
 elastic term 
 
 sentimental affinity the one towards whom 
 
 she reaches with every emotion j or she may 
 90 . 
 
SECOND MAEEIAGES. HILDA 
 
 mean anybody at all, for it is an expression 
 that may be likened to a rubber band what 
 it includes depends on how thin it is stretched. 
 My dearest friend is not my affinity, for I 
 have never had an affinity since I was in 
 boarding school. In fact, Hilda and I seldom 
 see things alike or like the same things, though 
 we are usually interested in the same people. 
 Hilda is the cleverest and most interesting 
 woman in the world, except Ma Belle. She 
 is years younger than I, but she is so clever Aman'sjudg- 
 
 that this does not matter. Her judgment is ment and a 
 
 woman's 
 so excellent, and she sees so clearly the re- 
 
 lation of things that she might almost be a 
 man, were it not that she is the most womanly 
 of women. She is fair to look upon, but her 
 appearance is misleading ; her face is child- 
 ishly round, and her eyes are large and 
 heavenly blue with the innocent expression 
 so often characteristic of near-sighted eyes. 
 Her cheeks are pink and her hair is pale, soft, 
 brown, almost golden. She looks out of her 
 big blue eyes upon the world with the appar- 
 ent artlessness of a babe ; and when she opens* 
 her pretty lips, one expects that gentle, sugary 
 91 
 
CONFESSIONS TO A HEATHEN IDOL 
 
 remarks will fall therefrom. Never was a 
 Hildegarde's greater mistake ! She can be and often is 
 tongue k een? i nc i s i ve and ruthless in her conversa- 
 tion anent both things and people. Tom said 
 of her once, " I fear not the wrath of God nor 
 the tongues of men, but I quail before the 
 tongue of Hildegarde Vincent." Not that she 
 is cruel at heart, perish the thought ! But 
 she has such a keen wit that her repartee is 
 like lightning it illuminates fiercely and is 
 likely to strike almost anywhere. She is a 
 Hilda's most highly cultured young person also ; she 
 culture seems t h ave imbibed the classics from baby- 
 hood, and I have always had a theory that 
 she only needed to wait until she had cut her 
 teeth to converse fluently in Greek. Her 
 literary tastes are so superior to my own that 
 if she were not as modest as she is learned, she 
 would make me feel that I am very crude, 
 indeed. She loves music, and she plays the 
 piano because she loves to and not because 
 she has any ambition to become an artist. 
 Therefore, she plays exquisitely and with an 
 informing spirit. 
 
 Hilda and I have spent many happy hours 
 92 
 
SECOND MARRIAGES. HILDA 
 
 together talking over the things that are 
 worth while, but we are never sentimental. Hilda's 
 No one could be sentimental with Hilda, not lovers 
 even her lovers. Hilda does not take much 
 interest in her lovers ; I am usually the one 
 who is obliged to take interest in them. Many 
 is the one I have had to gently but firmly re- 
 fuse vicariously, before he gathered courage 
 to ask and get his conge at first hand. 
 
 I reproach Hilda with her heartlessness j 
 and then she declares that the young men are Not a match- 
 in love with me instead and accuses me of ma1cer f rom 
 
 choice 
 being a matchmaker. This last imputation I 
 
 resent deeply. I would sooner be a dispenser 
 of cold poison to a guileless populace, than to 
 help to construct bonds which are as likely to 
 chafe to the bone as to tether the wearers in 
 flowery fields of joy. When once I indig- 
 nantly repudiated the accusation she looked 
 at me quizzically and said with great show of 
 candor, "Why no, Marian, you are really no 
 matchmaker, but are responsible for much 
 falling in love. But you cannot help it ; you 
 are a stimulating atmosphere, like the spring- A springtime 
 time f such emotions just naturally grow and influence 
 93 
 
CONFESSIONS TO A HEATHEN IDOL 
 
 flourish in your mere presence/ 7 and this is 
 all the satisfaction I got for my rebellion. 
 Hilda and I often discuss matters with a great 
 deal of heat, for she has a fine spirit and 
 plenty of temper ; but she is generous and in- 
 finitely sympathetic and her friends find her 
 altogether adorable. 
 
 NOVEMBER 25TH : DidyourHighMightiness 
 Receptions ever attend a reception ? Judging by the cut 
 and the fixed of your coat ^ j slu) uld th i nk not . but judging 
 smile 
 
 by your fixed smile despite inner pangs Ishould 
 
 say you might have had a long experience 
 in receptions. I am just home from one with 
 the babel of voices still ringing in my ears, 
 and my head is dizzy with the gleam of bare 
 shoulders, glittering pompons and whole 
 cemeteries of tomb-stone shirt-fronts. When 
 I see so many men in dress suits, I always 
 wish that I could paint that wide expanse of 
 Genre skirt- shirt-front with some genre picture which 
 bosoms snou i(j represent the man behind it j for in- 
 stance, I would paint on Theodore Morris 7 
 immaculate plaque a serpent and a dove. He 
 evidently felt and rebelled against my flintiness 
 94 
 
SECOND MAKKIAGES. HILDA 
 
 and to-night he did not even try to see his re- 
 flection in the polished brass ball, but instead Jealousy the 
 
 saw himself reflected from a pair of saucy head - li 9 ht but 
 
 not the engine 
 blue eyes ; and he must have found it most 
 
 satisfactory, judging by the time he devoted 
 to this productive industry. I saw it all with 
 entire placidity. One is grateful for the 
 wisdom of years, sometimes ; I will never be 
 driven to any action by jealousy. Jealousy 
 is not love any more than the head-light is 
 the engine 5 yet many have mistaken the one 
 for the other and then have wondered why 
 the train matrimonial did not move when 
 hitched to it. 
 
 As I was saying good night to my hostess, 
 I saw the "porcelain box " coming towards 
 me ; he not only came but took calm posses- 
 sion of me, escorted me to the cloak room, 
 and then tucked me carefully into the car- 
 riage with his usual indifferent assurance. 
 
 Oh, I am so tired ! It is rather hard to 
 have lived so long that one's geese and one's Geese or 
 swans are all geese alike. Perhaps wisdom swans * 
 and experience are meant to give one a higher 
 appreciation of geese rather than depreciation 
 95 
 
CONFESSIONS TO A HEATHEN IDOL 
 
 of swans. The chief difference between them 
 is that the swan has a neck like the serpent 
 which beguiled Mother Eve, while the neck 
 of the goose is hardly long enough to tie into 
 bow-knots. But what have necks to do with 
 the matter ! Geese are really much wiser and 
 nobler creatures. There is a nice picture in 
 our museum of a burial tablet of some ancient 
 Greek maiden whereon she is depicted sitting 
 with her pet goose at her side. On my burial 
 tablet, there will need to be but one figure, 
 and that will not be of the maiden. 
 
 NOVEMBER 26TH : Did Your-Swan-ship ever 
 AniceUndof know any geese in Japan? I have been 
 goose ] iaun t e( j by visions of a whole flock of one 
 particular goose all day. It has been a day 
 full of places where I was needed and I think 
 I filled the needs. Perhaps, after all, the real 
 meaning of being a goose is the consciousness 
 of having under one's quills sufficient down to 
 pillow a whole world of unrest, or mayhap, 
 only enough to pillow one dear, tired head. 
 
 Father needed help to-day, as his instruc- 
 tor was sick. So I averaged examination 
 96 
 
SECOND MARRIAGES. HILDA 
 
 papers and wrote reports, and to-night he is 
 placidly smoking his pipe and reading The One sure 
 
 Nation. Ma Belle had a sick headache: I source of dis- 
 
 enchantment 
 found her struggling to get up and go to a 
 
 charity committee meeting, and she looked 
 all she felt. I know of no ailment that com- 
 petes with a sick-headache in the power to 
 disenchant its victim with life, the world, 
 and the eternal verities. So I coaxed Ma 
 Belle to lie still and promised to do her vi- 
 carious honor in the honorable committee ; 
 with a groan of relief she sank back to her 
 pillow and her misery. I do not much enjoy 
 committee work ; I am by nature an unor- 
 ganized being, and like to carry on my ac- 
 tivities in my own way. But I stood up in 
 that meeting most vigorously, and rushed 
 business through, right over the prostrate 
 forms of caprices, prejudices and qualms. So 
 efficient was I that a lady came to me after- 
 wards and said she hoped I would be made PerturUng 
 chairman at the next meeting, and I stood success 
 aghast before this misguided success I had 
 achieved. Success is like lightning, one can 
 never guess where it is going to strike. 
 97 
 
CONFESSIONS TO A HEATHEN IDOL 
 
 Tom was here this evening ; he was mani- 
 festly blue and it pleased him to allow me to 
 minister unto him, probably because Ma 
 Belle was ill. I made him " comfy " on the 
 library sofa, and read to him cheerful stories 
 from the last magazines. He was so grateful 
 and dear that I was inspired to go skipping 
 around on all sorts of emotional pinnacles, 
 forgetting all about the years I have spent 
 wandering bruised and battered in malarial 
 valleys. 
 
 98 
 
CHAPTER IX 
 
 A THANKSGIVING DINNER AND CONVERSA- 
 TIONAL DESSERT 
 
 THANKSGIVING NIGHT : Do you have a 
 day set apart in Japan for being thankful Thanksgiving 
 whether you have anything to be thankful 
 for or not ? I was the one this year to give 
 the thanksgiving dinner for our small family. 
 Of course Ma Belle was here and to my dis- 
 may Joe insisted on inviting his beloved 
 Theodore ; it is my private opinion that this 
 artful gentleman has subsidized Joe. How- 
 ever, I warned Joe saying : " Please make 
 him understand he is your guest." 
 
 " All right, Marnie, I will soak up all the 
 credit for ttie dinner," he answered cheer- 
 fully. 
 
 The dinner was good, but I was a most A 
 stupid hostess, I suffered a conversational 
 99 
 
CONFESSIONS TO A HEATHEN IDOL 
 
 numbness which rendered me helpless. I 
 felt as if my social paws were covered with 
 dough so that I could not really take hold of 
 any handle which the talk chanced to offer. 
 
 Ma Belle was at her best and scintillated 
 in a way to distract attention from my own 
 unlighted wick. His Lordship was so evi- 
 dently fascinated by her that I begin to see 
 relief ahead $ he will transfer his age-ignoring 
 affections to Ma Belle, who is not half so old 
 as I any day, and is twice as interesting as I 
 am at my best. We were discussing a cer- 
 tain novel of purpose that people are reading 
 and arguing about, and Ma Belle said : 
 
 " There was something tonic in the strong, 
 Be bad and stern creed of our Puritan ancestors which 
 
 you will be sa |^ pi a i n iy . jf y OU d o wrong you will go 
 made into a 
 
 to hell. But the warning signal shining in 
 
 lurid letters now is, if you do wrong you will 
 be made into the chapters of a book j and it 
 is enough to glue us fast to the page of virtue. 
 Such a puerile nemesis as this makes one 
 sick of the flowery paths of indulgence." 
 Then up spoke the young man : 
 
 " When I write a book, Madam Lee, you 
 100 
 
A THANKSGIVING DINNER 
 
 will certainly be in it, but it shall be a novel 
 of delight and not of purpose." He received 
 an interesting flash from mamma's black 
 eyes for this and Joe said : 
 
 " No use, Theo., you could never put Tante 
 Belle in a book. You would have to tell un- 
 true things all the time to convey a true idea 
 of her. Tante Belle cannot be reduced to 
 the English language." 
 
 "Belle, you have attained ! " exclaimed 
 father, "here are two youths making you the 
 most beautiful compliments and I am longing 
 to do the same but find that with age, what is 
 in the heart is not so easily vocalized. Tell 
 me how you manage it ? " 
 
 " My decrepit head is dizzy with so many 
 compliments. I will confide to you my secret, An 
 
 Eobert it is that of the gambler who believes 
 
 epitaph 
 so enthusiastically in his own little pair of 
 
 deuces that his opponents are led to believe 
 he holds a royal flush. On my tombstone, 
 Robert, I am going to have this inscription : 
 ' Here lies a woman who bluffed so unflinch- 
 ingly that her contemporaries were con- 
 strained to admit that she had lived V " and 
 101 
 
CONFESSIONS TO A HEATHEN IDOL 
 
 she gave father a look which I did not under- 
 stand ; but I think he did for he flushed. 
 
 In the drawing room Mr. Dresden China 
 drew his chair rather closer to mine than was 
 necessary. After a time Joe was called away, 
 and father and Ma Belle became absorbed in 
 discussing the question as to whether Indian 
 Yogis are Christian Scientists, and my com- 
 panion said in a low tone : 
 
 " This is the thankfulest thanksgiving that 
 Doubtful I have ever had ; but next year I shall be still 
 reasons for more thankful." 
 lemg thankful 
 
 "How about the next one? "I asked per- 
 versely. 
 
 " The next year I shall be so happy that all 
 the days which follow will be thanksgiving 
 days," he answered with perfect assurance. 
 I had a mind to ask him what he thought was 
 going to happen j but I was afraid that, if I 
 did, he would tell me, so I said : 
 
 " This morning I was trying to ' think up ' 
 my mercies in order to bring myself into a 
 thanksgiving mood; but aside from health, 
 strength and happiness and a few other 
 incidentals, I found my inventory a short one." 
 102 
 
A THANKSGIVING DINNER 
 
 " Do you know that when you wear a blue 
 dress your eyes are blue, and when you wear Chameleon 
 a gray dress your eyes are gray ? " he asked, ^ es 
 looking at me speculatively. 
 
 " And when I wear a red dress my eyes are 
 red?" 
 
 " Your eyes are never read, by me at 
 least," he retorted without a smile. 
 
 " It is pusillanimous to retreat behind a 
 pun," I objected. He answered with mean- 
 ing: 
 
 " My lady, when you fight with shafts of 
 ridicule, you must expect to witness ridicu- 
 lous retreats. However, please remember 
 that I live to fight another day when victory 
 shall be mine." 
 
 " Will you wear laurel wreaths upon your 
 brow, or carry laurel branches in your 
 hands ? " I asked derisively. 
 
 " I shall carry them in my heart where they 
 belong, and where you can guard them," he A safe place 
 
 answered. Then we looked at each other a * OT 
 
 laurels 
 moment ; I was curious to discover if his face 
 
 said anything. In a way, it did j there were 
 
 certain lines about his mouth which showed 
 
 103 
 
CONFESSIONS TO A HEATHEN IDOL 
 
 determination and his eyes were steady and 
 consequently soon put me on the defensive. 
 I was glad that Joe returned just then and 
 relieved the tension. 
 
 Why are n't men straightforward and 
 The missing logical I Why does n't the next thing natu- 
 
 linkinmascu- rall f o n ow the preceding one with them? 
 line character 
 
 And this man is the most disconcerting of 
 
 them all ; there is a link lost in the logic of 
 his actions j the result is a breathless uncer- 
 tainty as to what he will say and do next. I 
 almost wish you were a man instead of an 
 image, for then you possibly might explain to 
 me these mysterious masculine vagaries. 
 
 This evening Tom came, and he with 
 Ma Belle shared our somewhat desultory 
 thanksgiving supper Tom was in good spirits 
 and said he had been having a fine holiday 
 with his " things in law." Father and Tom 
 smoked and we sat about the library fire and 
 talked of many things ; among them, the 
 question as to whether a holiday was a joy or 
 a bore and an interference with work. 
 
 " Is n't it fine that man is so adaptable that 
 he has turned the primal curse into a final 
 104 
 
A THANKSGIVING DINNER 
 
 blessing? Almost all that the race asks now 
 
 is to be allowed to work continuously/' mused The primal 
 
 father. Ma Belle continued his thought : rse : a - ftnal 
 
 blessing 
 
 " Yes, and the best thing about work is that 
 it is no moralist. It accepts skill as graciously 
 from the hands of the prisoner in stripes as 
 from the hands of the priest in robe and stole." 
 
 "It seems to be the fate of man to want one 
 thing and get another ; he longs for comfort Mankinds 
 and ease and he gets discomfort and hard * oor bar 9 ains 
 work ; and then he is obliged to humiliate 
 himself by confessing that what he gets is 
 better for him than what he wanted/' com- 
 mented Tom. 
 
 "It is a great step forward to be content 
 with the result. Perhaps true wisdom lies in 
 learning to exchange the something we desire 
 for the something we get and not feel 
 cheated," returned father. 
 
 "Yes," replied Tom "our truest success evi- 
 dently consists in winning the game by carom- Caroming 
 ing against the immutable and being content a d ainst ** 
 with skilful zig-zags instead of direct lines of 
 victory." Then Joe remarked feelingly : 
 
 "Gee ! After we have changed our point of 
 105 
 
CONFESSIONS TO A HEATHEN IDOL 
 
 view so that our idea of paradise is hard labor, 
 I hope there will be another Eve and another 
 serpent, and that the resulting curse will be 
 ' Go forth and take a rest. 7 " 
 
 "It is not hard work nor overwork that is 
 We should be the trouble/ 7 said Ma Belle, "it is the lack of 
 well-balanced balance which worr i es , and wears us out. I 
 
 have seen a certain toy sold upon the streets so 
 weighted, that, however it tumbles, it always 
 comes to rest head up and smiling. If we 
 could only arrange our burdens likewise ; if 
 they could be so balanced and adjusted that 
 instead of oppressing us they would help 
 us" 
 
 "To bob up serenely ; that is a bully idea," 
 interpolated Joe. She continued : 
 
 "Ballast is not only good but necessary, 
 The place for only the place for it is in the hold, evenly dis- 
 ballast tributed ; it should not be festooned around 
 the masts." 
 
 Later, Joe went home with Ma Belle ; father 
 fell asleep and snored, and I ignored with all 
 my might, saying to Tom : 
 
 " I am glad that you are so much happier 
 to-day." 
 
 106 
 
A THANKSGIVING DINNER 
 
 "It is bravado," he answered gloomily, "the 
 gods have been having some fun with me of 
 late fun for them, I mean." 
 
 "I wish you would tell me about it," I said 
 wistfully. 
 
 "Oh ! there is nothing to tell, except it is 
 such a deuce of a job to keep the fiddler Paying the 
 paid." fiddler 
 
 "Heaven forbid that we cease dancing on 
 that account," I murmured ; "after all, 
 strength of character does not lie so much in 
 not dancing, as it does in having the courage 
 to grin when paying the fiddler." 
 
 "Great Scott ! One would not kick so much 
 if one simply danced ; but when one is obliged 
 to don the cap and shake the bells to the time 
 of the music, one has a right to feel injured." 
 
 "Oh ! I don't know," I went on musingly, 
 "the tyranny of the bells and bauble is most The tyranny 
 alluring. We try to remember to be wise, of the cap and 
 but the wide grin paralyzes thought ; and the 
 silvery bells chime in our ears an enchanting 
 music that makes us forget everything, and 
 most of all our own folly." 
 
 I arose and went over and shook father into 
 107 
 
CONFESSIONS TO A HEATHEN IDOL 
 
 consciousness, and he exclaimed with ready 
 sang froid : "I awake from dreams of thee, my 
 dear ; but need I be awakened with so much ab- 
 ruptness f " Soon after, Tom said good-night 
 in a most casual manner and left me depressed, 
 for some quite inexplicable reason. 
 
 Now, you Squat Image, tell me, if you can, 
 Life, a series how I am to make the grass of this day's ex- 
 perience into the hay of wisdom! At best, 
 this world is a place where one may seldom do 
 the right thing at the right time ; and at the 
 age of forty, one becomes resigned to all sorts 
 of compromises, even to calling the same, Life. 
 
 108 
 
CHAPTER X 
 
 MUSIC LAND, AND A YISIT TO TOM 
 
 DECEMBER 2D : I have been looking at 
 you long this evening, and wondering if 
 it is of any use to talk to you about music. I 
 have heard your Japanese music, and I do not 
 believe you could make me understand what 
 it might mean to your soul, except that I 
 could surely feel the minor wail in it. How- 
 ever, considering that you are a god, and' a 
 wooden one too, you can probably comprehend 
 many things which I may not. 
 
 I long to tell you about music, if there be 
 any words in our language fit therefor. Music, What music is 
 dear Idol, is another world a world that 
 has place out in space ; and only one narrow 
 bridge of sense connects that world with ours. 
 Over this bridge we pass to and from that 
 wonderful world, in which there is naught but 
 109 
 
CONFESSIONS TO A HEATHEN IDOL 
 
 motion. There the soul is swayed and lifted 
 That other to mysterious heights and then plunged into 
 
 world of more mysterious depths : and again it is lifted 
 music 
 
 and gently cradled in the sustaining arms of 
 
 sound. And when we pass over into that 
 world we forget all that is or has been, and 
 become unconscious of all else besides this 
 realm of exquisite emotion. And because of 
 this forgetting, the places where the spirit is 
 chafed and worn are healed and made whole. 
 Therefore is it that we of this restless western 
 world have deep need and great love for 
 music. You, perhaps, do not need it so much ; 
 for your every-day world is steeped in calm, 
 and for another world you have hasheesh. 
 All of this is apropos of a concert which I 
 
 Brutal attended this evening. Joe invited me to go, 
 conversation and j sat - n the mi(M Qf Ms f raternity oui> 
 
 fit" as he elegantly (?) describes his fellows. 
 Strictly speaking, Mr. Morris sat constantly 
 at my left, while Joe managed a succession of 
 young men at my right. Some of these felt 
 it incumbent upon them to entertain me lest 
 I should be too much bored by the music ; 
 and if I could have slain them cut their 
 110 
 
MUSIC LAND, AND A VISIT TO TOM 
 
 heads off then and there without making too 
 much litter, I should cheerfully and unhesi- 
 tatingly have done so. There is nothing so 
 exasperating, when one is intent upon cross- 
 ing the narrow bridge into that far-away 
 world as to be haled back by brutal con 
 versation. 
 
 These kindly but misguided youths found 
 one number of the program quite admirable. Piano 
 It was when Professor Von Something or P rostration 
 Other made an unprecedented attack upon 
 the piano, and kept at it until the wires 
 seemed quite unstrung j finally when he re- 
 treated the poor instrument was obviously in 
 a fit of nervous prostration. 
 
 The wonderful thing about this concert was 
 that the man at my left spoke only when it 
 was right to speak, and several times he came 
 to my aid in warding off my conversational 
 boys, deftly reducing them to dumbness. He 
 gave me the feeling of support by his sym- 
 pathy 5 evidently his bridge is close to mine. 
 I spoke to him but a conventional word about 
 the concert, and yet when he wrapped my 
 cloak around me he said : 
 1U 
 
CONFESSIONS TO A HEATHEN IDOL 
 
 "I never realized before that you cared 
 Sympathy so much for music. I shall come sometime 
 
 quite unex- and ^ for j made nQ answer SQ 
 
 pectea 
 
 long as he declared he was coming, there 
 
 seemed little left for me to say. But on the 
 way home I probed Joe, saying : 
 
 "I did not know that Mr. Morris^was a 
 musician ; does he play the banjo? " 
 
 "Banjo ! Gee, would n't he like that ! He 
 plays a violin made by some old Italian 
 duffer. He thinks we fellows are n't good 
 enough to listen to his music except on grand 
 occasions. 'Usually he and Phil Schlegel go 
 off together and play for hours with the door 
 locked. Theo loves Phil's accompaniments 
 and neither likes to have any one around 
 listening ; but some of the fellows go and listen 
 at the key -hole and they say that their play- 
 ing is out of sight." 
 
 "Naturally ! " I ejaculated crossly. I some- 
 Too many way did not like the idea of his loving music 
 
 Or belng a musician 5 he ou g ht to be contented 
 with being a porcelain box without being an 
 autoharp also. 
 
 112 
 
MUSIC LAND, AND A VISIT TO TOM 
 
 DECEMBER 4th. : I think I shall erect an altar 
 to your Pagan Divinity, and burn things on 
 it after the fashion of altars ; the first thing I 
 shall burn is a letter I received to-day which 
 says: 
 
 PHI DELTA ALPHA LODGE, December 4th, 1904. 
 My Ladye: 
 
 I have been holding my pen over the 
 paper for a long moment, while thinking how to A most 
 'fitly address you. "Dear "yea, verily, so deeply 
 dear that the word quite fails to express it. I shall 
 have to find some new word to express you as I 
 know you. Any word would fit you so long as it 
 were not used twice; dear, good, bad, cynic, opti- 
 mist, adorable, and a whole dictionary full of 
 others. 
 
 That is why I find it so difficult to find one word 
 that will fit the composite picture of you which is 
 mine. Did you ever notice how much more beauti- 
 ful is the composite photograph than any of those 
 from which it is made ? It is because I comprehend 
 your many-sidedness that my you is better and 
 lovelier than any single phase of you could possibly 
 be. I see the harder lines of your strength softened 
 by your womanliness and tenderness; while your 
 womanly qualities are more perfectly rounded be 
 cause of the child that is still in you. 
 113 
 
CONFESSIONS TO A HEATHEN IDOL 
 
 But I could write a volume without exhausting 
 all I know of this interesting subject, and the 
 object of this note is, after all, to tell you that I am 
 called out of town for three days, and I would not 
 have you forget me in that eon of absence. Do not 
 forget me, my ladye, for it will not be of the 
 slightest advantage to you if you do. 
 Yours, faithfully, 
 
 THEODORE MORRIS. 
 
 Forget him, indeed ! Little god, have n't 
 
 AtUrstfor you a phial of Lethe water in your pocket so 
 the waters of ^^ vou can giye me a 
 
 Lethe 
 
 me the comfort of forgetting this same Theo- 
 
 dore Morris for three days ? But meanwhile, 
 please do not let me forget that too often 
 what is meet for love is likely later to turn 
 out meat for repentance. 
 
 DECEMBER STH : I had another letter to- 
 day from another man. Yea, from quite 
 a different man, and therefore quite a differ- 
 ent letter. I will read it to you, and I shall 
 be greatly obliged if you will tell me what 
 you really think about it. 
 
 THE CLINTON, December 9th, 1904. 
 Qh ! Madam Marian, knowest thou that I have 
 114 
 
MUSIC LAND, AND A VISIT TO TOM 
 
 sprained my ankle and lost my case ( a jury being 
 
 just twelve times as idiotic as it would be if com- Quite another 
 
 posed of one individual. ) kind of a 
 
 I am laid up and obliged to spend my time in letter 
 meditation. I am biffed by misfortune on both 
 cheeks, and in my meditations I have been trying 
 to gather figs from thistles. 
 
 It is a great advantage to have all of one's 
 miseries coincident and contemporaneous, so I 
 plan to stop smoking unless you and your Ma 
 Belle come to see me and cheer me sufficiently so 
 that I shall be courageous enough to retain one 
 
 pleasure in life. 
 
 Yours, 
 
 TOM. 
 
 P. S. My philosophy seems quite inadequate 
 to-night for the demands upon it ; it has spells of 
 this sort ; 'tis a slumpy philosophy. 
 
 T. 0. 
 
 Of course we went. ,Tom has some attrac- 
 tive bachelor apartments with some beauti- An interesting 
 ful rugs on the floors and some delightful mstt 
 pictures on the walls. He was lying on the 
 sofa attired in a most becoming brown velvet 
 smoking jacket. It is such a pity men cannot 
 wear the smoking jacket at social functions in- 
 stead of the foolish garment customary. 
 115 
 
CONFESSIONS TO A HEATHEN IDOL 
 
 Ma Belle sat by his side and patted his 
 hand in an entrancing manner j and he was 
 miserable enough to be a small boy and be 
 glad. Ma Belle is not wasteful of her caresses 
 and they have all the value of conserved 
 boons. 
 
 " What have you been thinking about now 
 that you have had nothing to do but 
 think ? " she asked. 
 
 " Wondering where the hole in the center 
 
 Profitless of the maelstrom leads to," he answered 
 speculations whimsica u y . 
 
 " I think the rim would be a more interest- 
 ing subject for speculation/ 7 suggested I. 
 " Anyway, I think you might put your leisure 
 to better use by just loafing and inviting your 
 soul." 
 
 " It has been so long since I sent such an 
 A mislaid invitation that I fear I have lost the address," 
 address he returned. 
 
 " Tom, where is a certain document that 
 you were to let me have this week f If it is 
 at hand I might as well take it now and save 
 you further trouble, " asked Ma Belle. 
 
 " It is in the library desk," he answered. 
 116 
 
MUSIC LAND, AND A VISIT TO TOM 
 
 " Marian, will you be so kind as to step into 
 the other room and bring me a paper tied 
 with red tape that is in the middle pigeon- 
 hole of the lower row in the desk by the 
 window f " 
 
 I entered the library with a conscious 
 pleasure in the richness of color which per- The room 
 vaded the place. There was a harmony be- 
 tween hangings, rugs and furniture that per- 
 mitted no one thing to be.prominent in claim- 
 ing the attention of the observer a har- 
 mony which mellowed and enhanced the 
 attractiveness of the room. The desk was of 
 handsomely carved mahogany one that Tom 
 had found in Florence years before ; the num- 
 ber of crowns wrought into the carving 
 showed that it had once been used by royalty. 
 As I reached for the paper the lace in my 
 sleeve caught the top of the ornate silver 
 inkstand ; I made a spasmodic but successful 
 effort to avert the threatened calamity, and 
 I must have accidentally touched a hidden 
 spring ; a part of the beautifully patterned secret 
 front below the pigeonholes fell back on its 
 hinges revealing an inner compartment. 
 117 
 
CONFESSIONS TO A HEATHEN IDOL 
 
 What I saw there I could not help seeing : a 
 
 Lilies-of-the- bunch of sere and yellowed lilies-of-the-valley 
 
 Valley tied with a f ade( j purp i e ribbon. I hastily 
 
 lifted the door to its place and came back to 
 the other room with a queer, guilty feeling 
 which I cannot describe, nor quite account 
 for. 
 
 Tom was manifestly cheered by our visit ; 
 but that was mostly due to Ma Belle's efforts. 
 I could say but little, for I was deeply an- 
 noyed at my awkward intrusion into Tom's 
 private affairs. I should have felt more 
 honest to confess the blunder at once, but 
 that would have been absolutely impossible. 
 But ever since, I have been in a daze won- 
 dering, and wondering, 
 
 118 
 
CHAPTER XI 
 
 HILDA PLAYS AN ACCOMPANIMENT 
 
 DECEMBER STH : Smile, smile, please 
 smile. For if gods smile not at the 
 ways of men and women, pray, who may? 
 This morning I had a telephone message from 
 Mr. Morris telling me of his return and ask- 
 ing if he and Mr. Schlegel might come this 
 evening and play for me ; of course I said I 
 should be most happy, though as a matter of 
 fact I was quite the reverse. Hilda was to 
 spend the afternoon and evening with me for 
 our first long visit since her return. 
 
 Moreover, I would not for worlds have Hilda The most 
 
 guess the infatuation of that most embarrass- cruel f ali 
 
 criticism 
 ing youth. She would either make sarcastic 
 
 remarks, or think them, which is really worse. 
 The cruelest thing in the world is the un- 
 spoken criticism of a devoted and loyal friend, 
 when intimacy lays bare the vulnerable spot. 
 119 
 
CONFESSIONS TO A HEATHEN IDOL 
 
 It sometimes comes to me like the vision 
 
 Eeasons of a nightmare that I shall finally probably 
 
 inexplicable yield and marry Theodore Morris. And then 
 
 the thought occurs to me that if I do, Hilda 
 and Tom and my other friends will naturally 
 have to know about it, and I suddenly realize 
 how utterly preposterous such an act would 
 be. I think I might marry him if no one ex- 
 cept you were ever to know about it, though 
 why I would do it is beyond my fathoming. 
 
 I did not mention to Hilda during the after- 
 Brown eyes noon that I expected any callers in the evening, 
 and blue though I thought of it several times. Mr. Mor- 
 ris arrived rather early and alone except for 
 his violin, which is evidently a creature of 
 much personality to its owner. I introduced 
 him to Hilda, and his inscrutable brown eyes 
 looked into her quite inscrutable blue ones ; 
 but what the owner of either pair of eyes 
 thought I had no way of discovering. 
 
 He was more taciturn than usual and was 
 A social evidently annoyed that I was not alone, and 
 acrobat j-fcat ^j s accompanist did not come. Hilda was 
 not interested and stupidly said nothing to re- 
 lieve the situation. Therefore I felt it incuin- 
 120 
 
HILDA PLAYS AN ACCOMPANIMENT 
 
 bent upon me to break the tension by various 
 socially acrobatic feats, which Mr. Morris re- Reluctant 
 garded in sphinx-like silence, and Hilda with musicians 
 speculative amusement. Their combined atti- 
 tudes led me on to higher leaps and to a 
 final trapeze performance, during which I 
 swung giddily from the new Dante collection 
 in the University library to the antics of the 
 last minstrel show. At length I gave up from 
 sheer exhaustion, when I was suddenly in- 
 spired to suggest that Hilda play the accom- 
 paniment and that we have music imme- 
 diately. Mr. Morris looked supercilious and 
 doubtful and Hilda was unfeignedly wrathful. 
 Then I grew serene and insistent and felt re- 
 venged for having been obliged to exhibit 
 myself in the ring of their mutual silence. 
 Hilda went grudgingly to the piano, saying : 
 " I hope you will understand, Mr. Morris, 
 that I am your involuntary accomplice." He 
 said not a word but I noticed with a chuckle 
 that he looked his music over and selected the 
 most difficult piece in his roll. If it had been 
 something simple and easy, it is possible that 
 Hilda would have at the last moment refused 
 121 
 
CONFESSIONS TO A HEATHEN IDOL 
 
 to play at all. But when she saw those pages 
 of notes that looked as if they .had hysteria, 
 she sat down on the piano stool with decision, 
 and her pretty lips took on an expression of 
 stern determination which meant accomplish- 
 ment. 
 
 Hilda is what I could never be an ideal 
 
 The ideal accompanist ; she subordinates herself not 
 accompanist alone to the music? but also to the mood of 
 
 her companion. Their first page together was 
 executed almost as perfectly as if they had 
 been in the habit of playing with each other 
 for weeks. This success had its influence 
 upon them and I felt the barriers between 
 them melting away in harmony. 
 
 They both played superbly, and I, unno- 
 
 Music de- ticed, threw myself upon the sofa and covered 
 mands but with hands while j listened . I 
 
 one sense 
 
 am a truly primitive being and I cannot 
 
 listen to music and see anything whatever 
 coincidently. I am either seeing all things 
 and hearing nothing or hearing all things and 
 seeing nothing. Therefore, I like best to close 
 my eyes, and then cross the bridge to music 
 land without faltering or wavering. They 
 122 
 
HILDA PLAYS AN ACCOMPANIMENT 
 
 played on and on, and finally concluded with 
 Handel's sonata in A major. So moved had 
 I been with their music that I felt I must be 
 careful or I should say something senti- 
 mental ; so I made my thanks quite com- 
 monplace, and the conversation, much lim- 
 bered by the music, became fairly interesting. 
 
 Since Hilda had been so recently in Ger- 
 many, we naturally questioned her about the 
 music she had heard while there ; she was most 
 enthusiastic over the Probe concerts and the 
 opera. She turned to me and said : 
 
 " I thought of you, Marian, when I heard 
 your favorite Trompeter von Saekkingen, and Vicarious 
 experienced several thrills for you ; although thrills 
 when they sung, 'Es ist im Leben doch so 
 hdsslich eingerichtetj I did not wipe my eyes 
 nor blow my nose as did the sentimental 
 damsel next to me. By the way, that night 
 we sat up in the fourth gallery and our seats 
 cost eighty pfennige each ; we nibbled lemon 
 drops and looked down at the Parterre- Frem- 
 den-Loge and the Balkon erster Rang, where 
 you and I in our opulent youth were wont to 
 disport ourselves. Theater prices have gone 
 123 
 
CONFESSIONS TO A HEATHEN IDOL 
 
 up since those happy days, so we clomb to the 
 tip-top for fun and experiment. The air was 
 not so bad considering that it was German, 
 but the bench was too narrow for anything save 
 penance." 
 
 ".What is the matter with the German 
 atmosphere, is it thick with anything besides 
 harmony ? " asked Mr. Morris. 
 
 " It seems to me," answered Hilda thought- 
 TJw fully, "that the Germans are peculiar in 
 
 elements in t keir relations to the elements. They seem 
 Deutschland 
 
 to be able to do without air, fire or water in 
 
 their habitations and daily lives, and make up 
 for it by their love for the dear earth." 
 
 " How cruel of you," I exclaimed, " when 
 you know that the German attitude toward 
 music is ideal ! " 
 
 " I was speaking of their relation to the 
 elements u and not to the Muses," corrected 
 Hilda. 
 
 It was rather late when Mr. Morris went 
 away. I was for some mysterious reason im- 
 pelled to follow him to the door and say : 
 " Thank you, it was heavenly ! " 
 
 " It was heaven to play when you were 
 124 
 
HILDA PLAYS AN ACCOMPANIMENT 
 
 listening," he answered in a tone as low as my 
 own, and then I wished I had had sense A fatuous 
 enough to have kept still. I do not under- Romance 
 stand in the least why I followed him to the 
 door and made that insane remark : it is an- 
 other instance of my infinite capacity for 
 fatuity. 
 
 When I came back to the parlor I ex- 
 perienced a sense of uneasiness and guilt j but 
 as usual, I covered my perturbation with 
 cheerful volubility. I asked with a candid 
 glibness which surprised even my accustomed 
 self: 
 
 " Hilda, what do you think of that An un- 
 youth ? " satisfactory 
 
 conversation 
 
 " He plays extremely well," was her non- 
 committal reply. I went on : 
 
 " I am glad Phil Schlegel did not come, for 
 I never heard you play better." 
 
 " Thanks, where did you find His Lord- 
 ship?" 
 
 " He is one of Joe's friends," I answered 
 
 mechanically, and the conversation drifted to 
 
 other channels. But I had an inner conviction 
 
 that we were both consciously avoiding any 
 
 125 
 
CONFESSIONS TO A HEATHEN IDOL 
 
 discussion of Theodore Morris. Now please 
 Auricular tell me why she did not wish to talk with me 
 expansion abont Mm ? Does she suspect anytlling f j 
 
 do not believe it. What is there to suspect ! 
 Nothing at all ! I will tell you a secret which 
 I discovered some time since : Some of the 
 heart's experiences are auricular and some 
 ventricular ; but it is only once in a lifetime 
 that the whole heart is concerned. And I 
 have a foreboding that this affair of mine with 
 Theodore Morris is a case of auricular expan- 
 sion, and that it will surely result in the devel- 
 opment of some baleful itis which cannot be 
 either cured or endured. 
 
 DECEMBER 9TH : I am glad you receive my 
 confidences so understandingly ; it encourages 
 me to give you details. 
 
 At breakfast this morning, Joe asked Hilda 
 what she thought of his friend whom she met 
 last evening. 
 
 " Perfeckly booful," she replied promptly. 
 Joe did not like to hear baby-talk applied to 
 his hero ; so he asked diplomatically : 
 
 " Is n't he a fine violinist ? " 
 126 
 
HILDA PLAYS AN ACCOMPANIMENT 
 
 " Yes/' said Hilda, with a reticence of some 
 unguessable portent. 
 
 The whole day has seemed unreal, espe- 
 cially since Hilda went home this morning. Dreaming 
 
 Many times I have found myself dreaming of witn eyes 
 
 open 
 
 the music of last evening dreaming with 
 my eyes open. That is what I am doing with 
 this man all the time dreaming with my 
 eyes open. 
 
 The best I can say of such a day as this, is, 
 that though it shortens my life by twenty- 
 four hours, I am glad it is over. Not that it 
 was an especially hard day but it was be- 
 wildering and listless ; and now I listen while 
 the tatters of this battered caravanserai flap 
 dubiously with every wind that blows. 
 
 127 
 
CHAPTER XII 
 
 A COMEDY, A TRAGEDY, AND THE WAY OF 
 THE FOOL 
 
 DECEMBER 10TH : I do not Suppose JOU 
 ever went to a play f Or was, perchance, 
 the procession of humanity before your shrine 
 as good as a play to you? To-night Joe, Mr. 
 Morris, Hilda and myself went to hear Nance 
 Oldfield which was wholly delightful, and Made- 
 laine, which was wholly depressing. Between 
 the acts Mr. Morris was thoughtfully looking 
 at the audience through the reversed opera 
 glasses ; I asked the reason for this original 
 performance, and he murmured : 
 
 "I am trying to put all those people so far 
 away that I can believe you and I are alone." 
 He then turned directly to Hilda, with whom 
 he had been carrying on a spirited conversa- 
 tion, and asked, platitudinously : 
 128 
 
THE WAY OF THE FOOL 
 
 "I suppose you speak German fluently? " 
 
 "Too fluently, alas ! " sighed Hilda. "I had 
 no end of trials because of this ease." 
 
 "For instance!" 
 
 "Well, one day I had ordered some beautiful 
 roses to deck the table of my salon for ex- Hilda and tht 
 pected guests, but the roses came not ; I waxed German 
 nervous and was on the point of starting for 9lffut 
 the flower shop when I met a servant in the 
 hall bearing two packages of flowers and who 
 seemed to be looking for some one to rid her 
 of her burden. With a cry of joy, I seized 
 one parcel and beat a triumphant retreat. 
 The roses were not the kind I had ordered, 
 but I thought they had been sent as substi- 
 tutes. A little later the roses I had ordered 
 came, and the messenger knew nothing of 
 those I already had. All the afternoon I won- Misapplied 
 dered whose roses I had rifled from the help- roses 
 less Dienstmadchen and pictured him or her 
 foaming at the mouth with vexation. That 
 evening our bell rang, and a tall and inoffen- 
 sive young fellow asked in German if a few 
 roses he had ordered might perchance have 
 here I cut in with artless glee, and tried to 
 129 
 
CONFESSIONS TO A HEATHEN IDOL. 
 
 express in hasty but well-chosen terms my 
 distress at having abducted his roses. I has- 
 tened to bring him the flowers and to explain 
 the situation in language that would have 
 brought tears to the eyes of a Goethe or a 
 Schiller, and was winding up with a fervid 
 peroration imploring his pardon, and assuring 
 him of my undiminished esteem for his nation 
 and himself, when he suddenly stemmed the 
 tide of my eloquence by remarking in the 
 most English of English : 
 
 " l It does not matter ; I thank you very 
 A safe though much. Good evening. 7 I longed then for 
 frail founda- tlie dear dead past w ken my vocabulary was 
 twn 
 
 limited to guten Morgen and danJce schon, for 
 
 even I could not have conversed indefinitely 
 on that frail foundation." 
 
 We all laughed, and even while we were 
 laughing Mr. Morris turned toward me and 
 said in his peculiar sotto voce, a way he has of 
 saying things to me without moving his lips 
 and with perfectly expressionless face, so that 
 any one sitting near and looking directly at 
 him would not know that he was speaking : 
 
 "How superb you are to-night! You 
 130 
 
THE WAY OF THE FOOL 
 
 should always wear that exquisite shade of Conversation 
 gray ; it just matches your eyes and hair as f w two 
 your pink roses match your cheeks. I am 
 sure I shall write a poem myself on < My Lady 
 Gray-gown/ " 
 
 And while I was listening to this absurd 
 talk, I felt myself blush and I felt as fluttery 
 as if I had been sixteen. Meanwhile I appre- 
 ciated fully just the kind of idiot I was. Oh, 
 dear ! I sometimes feel as if I had enough of 
 Life's irony on hand to create a trust ! 
 
 Between the plays, Tom, who had escorted 
 Ma Belle, came over to visit us and sat for a 
 moment on the railing of our loge in my im- 
 mediate vicinity. 
 
 "Do you know that you are sitting on the 
 brink ? " I asked with severity. "If you fall Several kinds 
 over, you will be drowned in that sea of 
 humanity." 
 
 "Don't trouble yourself, I can swim in that 
 sea all right. My real danger lies in carefully 
 sitting on the brink, a far more dangerous 
 pastime than falling over." 
 
 "Why do you talk enigmas to me who never 
 guessed one in my life? " I asked obtusely. 
 131 
 
CONFESSIONS TO A HEATHEN IDOL 
 
 "Ah, Marian, are n't you ashamed to wrest 
 compliments from me by unfairly pushing 
 me when you see me sitting on the brink? 
 To be explicit, you are looking so particularly 
 radiant to-night, that " 
 
 "That will do/' I interrupted, "I shall pon- 
 der the matter and perhaps I may be able to 
 guess the reason for such unprecedented re- 
 marks." 
 
 "No, you will never guess j for, Madam 
 Very, very Marian, you are very, very stupid." And 
 stupid nen i W ondered what he did mean. 
 
 The last play of the evening was Madelaine, 
 a strong presentation of the old, old story 
 she loving so much that she must weep and 
 upbraid, and he be bored thereby ; a story 
 that has been played over and over since the 
 creation of the first man and woman. For 
 do -j ou know it, little god, man loves to fight 
 and do strong, physically aggressive things 
 for a woman, but he does not want her 
 When she "wopsed" around him, tangling his feet, and 
 
 loves too hindering his arms meanwhile. And yet, a 
 much 
 
 true woman was never yet born who did not 
 
 have it in her to passionately desire to 
 132 
 
THE WAY OF THE FOOL 
 
 tangle and hinder the man she loves. Why 
 is this so ? You nor all your fellow gods could 
 not tell. And it is a wise woman who guards 
 carefully that tendency in herself without 
 asking counsel of either gods or men. 
 
 No one can be powerful and masterful 
 when really in love ; it somehow sweeps out A dangerous 
 the foundations from under one's feet, leaving s P eculation 
 nothing to stand on. I wonder how it would 
 seem to be married to a man and not love 
 him so much but that I could make life inter- 
 esting every day ; to be able to give him the 
 constant impression that however much he 
 already had of me, it was but a small part of ' 
 what there remained to attain, and in all ways 
 give over my energies to beguiling him. 
 Fascinating vista, that ! I am almost afraid 
 that I shall try it. I wish you would give 
 me a little advice for the strengthening of 
 my vertebral column; it is so limp that it 
 manifestly needs starch. What a delightful 
 idea ! A backbone freshly laundered ! 
 
 After the play we all felt downcast, and The 
 
 Mr. Morris proposed that we "get the taste staurant 
 
 waiter's hero 
 out of our mouths " by a supper at Trascati's j 
 
 133 
 
CONFESSIONS TO A HEATHEN IDOL 
 
 and at our urgent invitation Ma Belle and 
 Tom joined us. We found a screened alcove 
 in the gay little restaurant which gave us 
 a happy sense of privacy. It was a pleasure 
 to me to witness the skill with which Mr. 
 Morris ordered the supper skill that obvi- 
 ously made a mighty impression upon the 
 waiter. Probably it is more difficult to be a 
 hero to a restaurant waiter these days, than 
 to one's own valet. 
 
 I thought I had never seen both Ma Belle 
 and Hilda so beautiful. Ma Belle wore a 
 bodice of wine- colored velvet and some hand- 
 some old lace ; her dark, expressive eyes were 
 full of scintillations and so was her wit. 
 Hilda's gown was of pale -blue, fluffy material 
 which made her head look like that of a rosy 
 cherub over a blue cloud. The expression of 
 her big blue eyes was more than usually 
 innocent and guileless and I predicted trouble 
 ahead. Ma Belle was indignant at having 
 had her feelings lacerated by the play, and 
 said: 
 
 "I detest these social plays. If we must 
 have tragedy let us have the real thing, like 
 134 
 
THE WAY OF THE FOOL 
 
 Julius Caesar, where we would feel hurt if the 
 
 play did not end with the stage heaped high The only 
 
 with the murdered and the dead. The only le o itimate 
 
 tragedy 
 legitimate fool on the stage is a Touchstone 
 
 or a Costard. I object to all others, and I 
 especially object to this Madelaine because 
 she was so drearily real." 
 
 "Let 7 s have a round-table on the interest- 
 ing subject of fools," suggested Joe, "we can A round-table 
 drown the pangs of hunger by telling about 
 all the kinds of fools there are. Gee, I wish 
 my rhetoric Prof, could hear that sentence, 
 drown the pangs ! Tante Belle you begin and 
 tell us what constitutes a fool." 
 
 "A fool," answered Ma Belle, "is a person 
 who takes infinite pains to do something 
 which neither he nor anybody else wishes to 
 have done. A fool builds his mills on the 
 theory that water runs up hill instead of 
 down." 
 
 "It seems to me, the difference between 
 a wise person and a foolish one is that Two ways of 
 
 when the former meets with the inevitable, meetin 9^e 
 
 inevitable 
 he turns his back upon it and looks in the 
 
 opposite direction ; while the latter always 
 135 
 
CONFESSIONS TO A HEATHEN IDOL 
 
 kicks it hard and then says 'damn' because it 
 hurt his foot/ 7 said Tom. Mr. Morris toyed 
 thoughtfully with his fork and then said 
 smoothly : 
 
 "A fool is constantly aware of the pain in 
 Unexpected his own heart ; the wise feel only the pain in 
 
 anatomical the h ea rts of others. That is, a fool may help 
 knowledge 
 
 others, but cannot help himself." We were all 
 
 silent for a moment ; we were rather stunned, 
 I suspect, to discover that this man knew any- 
 thing about hearts and their troubles. Hilda 
 relieved the situation by declaring impress- 
 ively : 
 
 "A fool does not count his steps as he as- 
 
 The step that cends life's dark stairway, and he only knows 
 
 is n't there wiL en he reaches the top, by the jar that comes 
 
 from trying to ascend a step which is n't 
 
 there." 
 
 "That is a description of an optimist," I 
 objected. 
 
 " You tell us what an optimist is, Madam 
 Lee," said Mr. Morris. 
 
 A successful "Oh, an optimist is one who is always try- 
 -[ n g O ma k e apple-sauce out of the apples of 
 136 
 
THE WAY OF THE FOOL 
 
 Sodom," answered Ma Belle with a smile. 
 "Marian is a good example." 
 
 "Joe, you have not yet defined a fool," said 
 I, trying to distract the attention from my 
 optimism. 
 
 "A fool spends so much time making his 
 living that he has no time to live." Joe's air 
 of superiority as he delivered this made us all 
 laugh. Then Mr. Morris turned to me, 
 
 "Mrs. Lee, I am curious to know what your 
 definition is of this most interesting species 
 which we are discussing." I looked him 
 straight in the eyes as I said : 
 
 "I agree with Ma Belle, a fool does things 
 she does not wish to do, just because she is a Food for 
 fool," and I thought if he understood me as "ft***** 
 well as he pretended to he might find food for 
 reflection in my remark. 
 
 "After all these definitions, almost am I 
 persuaded to be a fool," he answered gaily. 
 Ma Belle laughed and said : 
 
 "I hold that one owes it to one's self to be a The debt to 
 
 fool now and then, but one surely owes it to sel f and to 
 
 society 
 society not to act like one." 
 
 137 
 
CONFESSIONS TO A HEATHEN IDOL 
 
 "It is the wise who are glad when the oys- 
 ters are served," said Tom, dryly, as the waiter 
 appeared. "While we were still at table, the 
 clock struck for midnight, and Tom asked 
 thoughtfully, 
 
 "Will some one please tell me whether mid- 
 night belongs to the day before or the day 
 after?" 
 
 "It is the time divide," said Hilda, "on one 
 Midnight the side of it flows the stream of yesterday, on 
 time divide the other the brook of to-morrow." 
 
 "Not always," ventured I, "for sometimes 
 it brings reminiscences and philosophizing 
 over the day passed, and then it is a part of 
 yesterday j and sometimes it brings vows for 
 future improvement, which annexes it to the 
 morrow." 
 
 "Yes," agreed Tom," it depends upon the 
 notch of the clock where we begin to tear the 
 days apart." 
 
 "It is not the clock but sleep that separates 
 our days," said Mr. Morris. 
 
 "Then insomnia would make life one long 
 Hilda's day," pertly remarked Hilda. He answered 
 insomnia witll pos itiveness : 
 
 138 
 
THE WAY OF THE FOOL 
 
 "You never had insomnia, Miss Vincent, 
 how do you know ? " Hilda opened her inno- 
 cent eyes at their widest and said : 
 
 "How little you understand me, Mr. Mor- 
 ris, I never by any chance sleep ; I lie awake 
 every night meditating on how farther to pur- 
 sue the primrose path of joy." 
 
 "Then it is not your sins which keep you 
 awake ! " he asked lamely. 
 
 "Not the sins I have committed, but those I 
 hope to commit," murmured Hilda sweetly $ he 
 looked at her keenly, and I wondered what 
 he would do if she should really unsheath her 
 claws for his edification. Tom said smilingly : 
 
 "An interesting vista, that ; won't you 
 please tell us the very worst sin you ever were 
 guilty of? " 
 
 "Murdered little children for the corals on 
 their necks," promptly responded Hilda. 
 
 "The very first time that I ever saw you I 
 recognized you as Gentle Alice Brown," de- Tlic Bab 
 
 clared Mr. Morris, impressively. Ma Belle Ballads in *" 
 
 porcelain box 
 
 and I exchanged glances ; the porcelain box 
 evidently contained the Bab Ballads among 
 other surprising things. 
 139 
 
CONFESSIONS TO A HEATHEN IDOL 
 
 As the four of us drove home we let Hilda 
 out first. While we waited for Joe to return 
 from escorting her to the door, Mr. Morris 
 took the seat that she had vacated at my side, 
 and said, with quite appalling tenderness : 
 
 " My lady, you have made me very happy 
 to-night." 
 
 "You have great powers for concealing 
 
 A deceptive your feelings. I should never have suspected 
 
 calm j^j. vou were an i m ated by anything save 
 
 your natural calm," was my supercilious 
 
 reply. 
 
 " What would you have me do, pipe on a 
 An obvious reed and dance like a faun when I am happy ? 
 indiscretion Natural calm j Natural and perpetual tur- 
 moil rather ! I fear my lady has made little 
 progress in understanding me. I have never 
 experienced a day of calm since I was born 
 that I can remember." There was a note of 
 despondency in his voice as he said this 
 which touched me, and as we heard 
 Joe's approaching footsteps I did a per- 
 fectly insane thing I for one brief second 
 let my hand rest upon his j and I believe that 
 140 
 
THE WAY OF THE FOOL 
 
 he understood that it was an act of contrition. 
 I am perfectly well aware that my attitude 
 toward him is perverse and often unjust, but 
 how can I help it ! 
 
 When we arrived at our gate, Joe stopped 
 to pay the cabman, and Mr. Morris went The man 
 with me to the door, helping me skilfully lcnows 
 up the steps by holding my arm, although I 
 was wrapped in a swathing cocoon of opera 
 cloak. How is it that some men know how 
 to do all those things which add to a woman's 
 comfort, and some others just as good and 
 just as tender are so helpless and awkward ? 
 Perhaps the skill comes from much practice ? 
 Perish the thought ! In that case a woman 
 might prefer the unskilful. " >T is a poor 
 thing, but mine own," is the creed feminine. 
 However, I am not feminine in this respect ; 
 I like the man who knows. If he has spent 
 his life in the practice which makes perfect, 
 then will I gladly avail myself of the fruits 
 thereof, nor spend my energies speculating 
 on how many teachers he may hay* had. 
 When my Sir Gallant bade me good night, he 
 141 
 
CONFESSIONS TO A HEATHEN IDOL 
 
 kissed my hand, though, of course I wore a 
 glove. I have just been examining the glove 
 to see if there were holes burned in it. 
 
 Come to think of it, you Poor Heathen, you 
 A Uss do not know what a kiss is ! How I am to 
 explained enlighten your oriental intelligence on this 
 point without kissing you, I fail to see. A 
 kiss is an invention of mortals so that they 
 should never be envious of the gods. It is a 
 compensation for having to live in this " vale 
 of tears." It is the divine seal set upon 
 human lips, and there is no revealing what it 
 covers. It is the focal point of the physical 
 and the spiritual j yet, like all the gifts of 
 mortals it has been dragged into the mire 
 and the commonplace. All mankind's be- 
 longings, like water, seem to seek the lowest 
 level, ah me I 
 
 142 
 
CHAPTER XIII 
 
 CHRISTMAS, A WALK WITH TOM AND AN AN- 
 NUAL SETTLEMENT WITH THE FATES 
 
 I confess that I have retained 
 the attitude of a child about this day j Differing 
 
 I look forward to it with breathlessly joyful views f 
 
 . , Christmas 
 
 expectation ; and any Christmas present how- 
 
 ever worthless intrinsically, or embarrassing 
 in its uselessness is, to me, a source of true 
 delight, and I spend the day in gloating. I 
 enjoy the preceding weeks of making and 
 buying things, as Hilda says, to put people 
 under obligations to me, and make them " go 
 staggering on a whole year under the burden/* 
 Hilda does not take my view of Christmas ; 
 she said yesterday : " I should like to abolish 
 the whole cycle of presentations ; the only 
 thing I really enjoy about Christmas is 
 getting the letters, which mostly do not come 
 because my friends have been busy making 
 143 
 
CONFESSIONS TO A HEATHEN IDOL 
 
 useless and futile presents instead of writing 
 them." I imagine that if the Christmas cele- 
 bration had been kept spiritual instead of 
 physical in its manifestations, it would have 
 been better for most " grown-ups." And yet 
 Christmas is the only instance in this matter- 
 of-fact land of a child holiday carried over 
 into all ages. 
 
 I did have one little mental struggle this 
 Courage year while planning my gifts : I could not 
 make U P mv mind whether I should send 
 Theodore Morris a present or not. I was 
 certain that he would send me something in a 
 way that I could not refuse without making 
 myself disagreeable, and I haven't moral 
 courage enough to bring myself to be dis- 
 agreeable, no matter what happens. I solved 
 my problem by sending T. M. a Mosher book. 
 Heaven bless Mr. Mosher for making pretty 
 and unusual books \ He has thereby helped 
 me out of many a dilemma. The book I sent 
 was The Kaziddhj of Sir Kichard Burton, 
 which seemed sufficiently impersonal for the 
 situation. As I feared, a present came from 
 the young man and of course it was very per* 
 144 
 
CHRISTMAS 
 
 sonal a gray fan, exquisite enough for a 
 
 fairy princess; with it came a card bearing A fan with a 
 
 the inscription, " A fan for My Lady Gray- messa 9 e 
 
 gown ; may it keep her brow cool and her 
 
 heart warm for the giver." I thought as I 
 
 gazed at the dainty web that what I needed 
 
 most was sure aid in keeping my head cool in 
 
 my relations with the giver. This evening I 
 
 received a special delivery letter from New 
 
 York, where he has gone for the holidays, and 
 
 it says : 
 
 ff Dear My Lady, thank you for this little volume 
 so beautiful without, and so philosophic within. 
 It came just as I started and has been the com- 
 panion of my journey. 
 
 "I have been so happy all day that I had small 
 need of philosophy, so I have been reveling in the 
 beauty of the verse. I gazed out of the window, 
 and watched the river, turbid but luminous like 
 amber ; and the white sycamores along its banka 
 joined hands, and danced for me stately minuets 
 against a moving curtain painted with dull blue 
 hills and sodden skies. 
 
 "All day long, whether reading or looking out of 
 the window, I have dreamed of My Lady, and have 
 murmured over and over : 
 145 
 
CONFESSIONS TO A HEATHEN IDOL 
 
 'All other life is living Death, 
 
 A world where none but Phantoms dwell, 
 A wind, a sound, a voice, a breath, 
 A tinkling of a camel bell. 7 
 
 Yours 
 " T. M." 
 
 Oh, you prescient bit of wood, will you tell 
 " The tinkling me whether it is T. M. who is listening to the 
 
 f ^ ieil tinklin S of the camel bell > or is it; ^ or mayhap 
 both ? After I had read this letter twice, I 
 longed for a spot in a desert without a 
 caravan, a camel, or even a coyote between 
 me and the horizon. 
 
 To turn to a more agreeable topic, Tom 
 
 The giver of sent me a beautifully illustrated edition of 
 "Waiden" Walden. That was just like Tom; there is 
 nothing hectic or feverish about him or his 
 relations to people ; he is devoted to Thoreau, 
 the man who said " I could tame a hyena 
 more easily than my friend." Nice Christmas 
 day! 
 
 DECEMBER 26TH : It has snowed all day 
 
 great, feathery, lazy flakes, which did not 
 
 seem to care whether they were coming from 
 
 140 
 
CHRISTMAS 
 
 or going to the skies. Hilda spent the morn- 
 ing with me, and it is a great pity that you A disturbing 
 were unable to hear all that we said. We let reticence 
 the years lapse and were girls together, and 
 nothing in the world below or the heavens 
 above was safe from us, our interests and 
 opinions. Once I said to Hilda tentatively, 
 " What do you think of Mr. Morris ? " " Mr. 
 Morris ! Why, I have n't thought much 
 about him," quoth the provoking Hilda, and 
 the conversation lagged. This reticence on 
 Hilda's part seems to me portentous and 
 makes me uneasy. She may suspect the 
 truth, but I doubt it 5 she is far more likely 
 to suspect that I am trying to get her 
 interested in him. 
 
 This afternoon Tom telephoned me that he 
 was coming at three o'clock to take me for a A snowy walk 
 walk. That is just like Tom ; no one else 
 would have thought of taking me to walk on 
 such a day. I was ready in short dress and 
 high gaiters when he came, and we walked up 
 the river path through a world carved from 
 crystal. The white hills were crowned and 
 girdled with purple forests, pale purple now 
 147 
 
CONFESSIONS TO A HEATHEN IDOL 
 
 behind the bridal veil which obscured them. 
 
 Achieving the Strange how every shadow in a snowy land- 
 
 purples sca p e i s purple ! It is a fine thing to be able 
 
 to see the purple in the shadows, little god ; 
 
 when one has achieved the purples, one is 
 
 then ready to live. 
 
 The weeds by the roadside were so covered 
 
 The ice- that they made strange towers and minarets, 
 
 bound brook as if thev were temp i es f rom your Orient 
 
 wrought in alabaster instead of ivory. The 
 wily hemlocks had drooped their arms and 
 let slide the snow burden which the helpless 
 pines still bore in tufts on each individual 
 tassel. As we climbed the hill, we ventured 
 down the soft cushioned bank to the rift made 
 by the brook, and we heard it tinkle con- 
 tentedly beneath its snow-weighted roof. 
 Did you ever break the ice on a still pool, and 
 see the strange figures that decorate the ceil- 
 ing of the brook's temple f As a child, I be- 
 lieved that these frescoes were wrought by 
 naiads, but now I know better, and I said as 
 we listened : 
 
 "The reason why the brook is so happy is 
 that it sings the song of joyful achievement 
 148 
 
CHRISTMAS 
 
 while it works." We noted that a vireo's 
 nest neatly hung in a beech sapling was the 
 base of a column of snow, and Tom said : 
 
 "That is a cold burden for a nest once kept Tlie winter 
 warm by a mother's breast." nest 
 
 "It is soft and white and not too heavy j 
 better be that way than to be empty," I 
 answered. 
 
 "What do you know about it," he asked 
 rather sternly. 
 
 "Nothing, I was only making entertaining 
 conversation." 
 
 "Marian Lee, you are sometimes most con- 
 foundedly flippant, do you realize it? " 
 
 "Let 's forget we are grown up, and have 
 fun ; let 's hold hands and run down hill ! " 
 pleaded I. 
 
 "Let's," he shouted, and suiting the action 
 to the word, down we came through the soft 
 snow and involuntarily sat in the great drift 
 at the bottom, breathless and laughing 
 When we came to the main road we brushed 
 each other off so as to look as decorous as 
 possible when we returned. As Tom left me 
 he said with his most winning smile : 
 149 
 
CONFESSIONS TO A HEATHEN IDOL 
 
 "Nice little girl, will you go sleigh-riding 
 A nice time with me pretty soon? " 
 
 "Nice old boy, I will." 
 
 I feel rather hazy about your knowledge of 
 snowj do they have beautiful, cozy snow- 
 storms in Japan? If so, there is no need to 
 tell you that they are the most wonderful 
 things that ever happened. 
 
 JANUARY IST : On this day I always square 
 The Fates accounts with the Fates, those "subtle girls" 
 
 are "subtle ^ Henley calls them> I WO nder which of the 
 girls" 
 
 three is the most difficult to deal with ! I 
 
 rather like Clotho, with her spinning, even if 
 she does give me a tangled skein ; and I have 
 no quarrel with Lachesis, though she is a 
 roue, a gambler and a cheat, tossing loaded 
 dice to cast the lots of men. But Atropos, 
 the Inevitable, is the one against whom I 
 rebel ; she is always sitting there with her 
 shears ready to snip the threads just as they 
 become most interesting. The other Fates 
 are the givers of gifts, even though the same 
 be of doubtful value ; but dreary old Atropos 
 takes away ; she is the end the blank, dead 
 end of things. 
 
 Well, I fear it is a fact that during the past 
 150 
 
CHEISTMAS 
 
 twelve months I have learned some brand- 
 new and quite undesirable facts about my- obliged to 
 self, and if you do not know what they are take tlie cue 
 I shall not tell you. It has always been my 
 faulty way to "make believe" that I am 
 whatever it suits circumstances to make me. 
 The moment that some chance happening 
 gives me the cue, I dash madly on to the 
 stage, and seem to have no choice, but must 
 play the part allotted to me whether it is 
 really mine or not. 
 
 Too often am I swept on and on without 
 volition, a leaf on the stream of circumstance. The 
 
 But I accept the fact with less regret than safeguard of 
 
 indifference 
 
 formerly. Maybe it is because I have be- 
 come hardened by witnessing the performance 
 so often ; and maybe it is because of an in- 
 difference which may be the precursor of 
 reformation. If one looks with apathy upon 
 the result of an action, one may hope to look 
 with apathy upon the reason for the action. 
 Only the most beautiful road tempts the feet 
 to wander into by-ways leading over green 
 meadows and hills. But when in the desert, 
 there is no incentive to go out of the straight 
 and narrow trail. 
 
 151 
 
CHAPTER XIV 
 
 MA BELLE, HILDA AND TOM COME TO DINE, 
 AND THEODORE MORRIS MAKES A MORNING 
 CALL 
 
 DECEMBER 29TH : The Mother Beautiful 
 . ..... and Tom and Hilda were here to dinner 
 
 pursuit of j-kig even j n g. M a Belle seems tired : any 
 happiness 
 guaranteed shadow on her face troubles me, for I do not 
 
 know what I should do if I did not have her. 
 She was as delightful as ever in her talk ; when 
 we wished her a happy new year, she said : 
 
 "The constitution of the United States does 
 not guarantee us the right of happiness, but 
 the right to the pursuit of happiness instead, 
 and I am still in keen pursuit, thank you." 
 
 " Were Washington and Jefferson then 
 subtle jokers, and did they know that the 
 pursuit is far more interesting than the ful- 
 filment? " asked father. 
 
 "You bet, I am going on the warpath for 
 152 
 
A DINNER PARTY AND A CALLER 
 
 it this year and I '11 snatch a whole bunch, see 
 if I don't," declared Joe, in college vernac- 
 ular. 
 
 "Don't aim too high," cautioned Tom. 
 
 " Each one starts out believing that he is 
 on his own private trail for happiness, but he We all belong 
 
 belongs to the procession just the same." to the 
 
 procession 
 added father. 
 
 "Yes," agreed Ma Belle, "can and must are 
 high fences, and the whole herd is driven 
 between them ; if an individual thinks he is 
 an exception and tries to force his way 
 through a broken panel anywhere, he is a pig 
 and delays the progress of the herd and has 
 to amble on eventually, all the more tired 
 because of his break for freedom." 
 
 "True," mused father, "the individual 
 seems of little consequence in the great Firing the 
 
 scheme, except perhaps as a cog in the wheel en ff ine f 
 
 progress 
 of development ; or, to change the metaphor, 
 
 he may be a bit of fuel thrust into the fire- 
 box of the engine of progress." 
 
 "Optimist ! " ejaculated Ma Belle, and we all 
 laughed. "Anyway," said father, turning to 
 Joe, "the individual who thinks his happiness 
 153 
 
CONFESSIONS TO A HEATHEN IDOL 
 
 is the end and aim of creation is likely to be 
 surprised soon or late." 
 
 "I 'm that individual all right, Pater, let 
 the surprise come. Hoop-la !" replied Joe. 
 
 "Ma Belle, what makes you look so tired 
 to-night V I asked solicitously. 
 
 "I am tired ; I spent the morning address- 
 
 The hidden ing the envelopes for the invitations to my 
 
 wheels of reception< AH t h e t j me i was doing it I 
 
 social 
 functions thought, 'such a waste of good, precious 
 
 stamps' ; for when they who receive these in- 
 vitations which cost me mental anguish, sticky 
 fingers and four cents each, read them they 
 will say ' Humph ! ? It is the way of the world 
 social : one half spends its time, strength and 
 money doing things for the other half which 
 make it exclaim ' Humph ! ' and then the 
 other half feels it necessary to return the com- 
 plimentary with like results." 
 
 "That may be true of other people's recep- 
 tions, but not of yours, Mrs. Lee," declared 
 Hilda. 
 
 "The special use of such functions is a sub- 
 ject for prayerful reflection," rejoined Ma 
 Belle j "usually, the giving or attending them 
 154 
 
A DINNER PARTY AND A CALLER 
 
 results in a tedium that makes us sing Te 
 Deum when they are over. I never give a Tedium then 
 reception without wishing for the power of 6 Deum 
 the lower animals to reproduce lost parts, so 
 that I could divide myself into at least six 
 sections, and let each one develop into a com- 
 plete individual j then there might be enough 
 of me to meet the necessities of the occasion." 
 
 "There could never be too many of you, 
 Tante Belle," said Joe, who is a devoted 
 knight of Ma Belle's. 
 
 "I think I would rather there were only 
 one of you, Madam Lee," avowed Tom with 
 unction, and she flushed a little at the compli 
 ment. 
 
 "I know exactly what you mean, Mrs. 
 Lee," said Hilda, "at the end of such a func- 
 tion the hostess knows just how an orange 
 ought to feel when it is separated into sec- 
 tionsthat is, naturally enough divided, but 
 helplessly scattered." 
 
 "One always wonders what he is going to 
 talk about at a reception," sighed father. 
 
 "Conversation substance, like manna, seems Manna for 
 to come by miracle," answered Hilda. conversation 
 
 155 
 
CONFESSIONS TO A HEATHEN IDOL 
 
 " And occasionally the miracle is not a 
 miraculous success," ventured I. 
 
 " The whole social outfit is a regular fencing 
 match," declared Joe, and I knew he was 
 thinking of Millie. 
 
 " In that case it is a pity that the fencing 
 rules do not obtain so that when we are hit 
 we might put a finger on the spot and cry, 
 Houche' or <pass6' or <trop bas!" added 
 Tom sympathetically. 
 
 " It is a game without rules and without 
 A game umpire," responded Joe feelingly, and Tom 
 without rules cont i nu ed: 
 
 " The true skill of the game lies in experi- 
 encing and ignoring." 
 
 " Surely," said I, " it is far easier to ignore 
 than to raise one's voice and howl, is n't it ? " 
 
 " Yes," said Tom, " and it sometimes 
 requires more bravery to run away than it 
 does to stay and fight." 
 Tiie people "People with a sense of humor have no 
 
 with a sense Business to get into the social world," declared 
 of humor 
 
 Ma Belle. 
 
 " True," added father, " the people without 
 a sense of humor are the happiest and there- 
 153 
 
A DINNER PARTY AND A CALLER 
 
 fore better fitted for association with their 
 kind." 
 
 " The compensation of those who have 
 a sense of humor lies in a special devel- 
 opment of the vertebral column which enables 
 them to bear unhappiness with keener zest 
 than the matter-of-fact experience in happi- 
 ness," remarked Hilda, and I said with some 
 severity : 
 
 " Hilda, I am sure you have cultivated your 
 humorous vertebrae to that extent that they 
 wag you." 
 
 " There be those whom I will refrain from 
 mentioning who have beautiful, long, graceful A vertebral 
 Watteau plaits instead of backbones," she Watteau plait 
 replied, and I had to join the laugh. 
 
 " My poor amiability is a target for all my 
 friends to try their skill upon," I exclaimed 
 ruefully. 
 
 " Little skill is required, dear," said Hilda 
 as she put a loving arm around my waist, 
 "your amiability envelopes us all like a 
 mantle of charity, and we love to cuddle 
 down in it even if we do abuse it." 
 
 " Daughter, I could not manage my recep- 
 157 
 
CONFESSIONS TO A HEATHEN IDOL 
 
 tion at all without you there to pour oil on the 
 
 An cosy creaking axles," and Ma Belle looked affec- 
 
 person tj ona tely at me as she said it. "On judgment 
 
 day you will be able to say, ( O Judge, I have 
 
 been mighty easy for your earthly creatures 
 
 to get along with, and there must be place in 
 
 the heavenly machinery for lubricator as well 
 
 as for cranks.' " 
 
 " Mamie is n't so dead easy as you all seem 
 Flinty inside to think," declared Joe feelingly, " you would 
 sing a different tune if she had brought 
 you-all up. She is flinty inside though she 
 appears so soft and cushiony, I can tell you 
 that right now." Father looked at Joe with 
 a twinkle of mischief in his eye, and said : 
 
 " Did I not hear you say the other day, my 
 son, in the presence of a certain young person, 
 that when you married you were going to 
 marry a woman who rested you. You had 
 best be careful, now that you know pillows 
 may be filled with other things than down." 
 
 " By jingo ! I would rather marry a buzz- 
 Jofg choice saw than a feather bed any day," was Joe's 
 rather belligerent answer ; then feeling that 
 158 
 
A DINNER PAKTY AND A CALLER 
 
 he had perhaps cast some reflections upon 
 me, he added, 
 
 "Mamie, you are an angel, even if you are 
 not a down-pillow, and an angel is a darn fine 
 person to have around." 
 
 " If all of you do not stop teasing me, I will 
 take my dolls and leave," I complained. 
 
 " Dont ! " pleaded Tom, " Stay, and I will 
 be an angel too, so you wont be so lonesome." 
 
 Now, Image with long sagacious ears, I must 
 confess to you that I was teased by this con- Naive human 
 versation. I know I enjoy being praised, yet wa * ttr<? 
 praise slides off me like water from the back 
 of the traditional duck. My faults and my 
 virtues are dovetailed together so perfectly 
 that a coat of blame or praise spread upon 
 me is likely to be applied to the wrong spot 
 and no one realizes the fact as keenly as I do. 
 But this is also true the less I believe in 
 myself, the more I long to have others believe 
 in me. Human nature is so naive ! Con- 
 sciousness of failure does not prevent us from 
 feeling that we ought to have all the per- 
 quisites of success. Tell me, is it a subject 
 159 
 
CONFESSIONS TO A HEATHEN IDOL 
 
 for laughter or tears, this unreasonable 
 human nature which is so absurd ? But how 
 can you know, since you are merely a god ! 
 
 JANUARY 3RD : Good evening, Wooden Ser- 
 
 The dynamics enity, how are you to-night ? As for me, 
 of crossness my day began stupid but j redeemed it to 
 
 wickedness. It was a day of cross-purposes 
 and has a cross lady at the end of it. Cross- 
 ness is a queer emotion ; it is like a real force 
 within one which explodes j it is as if one's 
 nerves were all tied in hard knots and then 
 suddenly loosed. Queer creatures, we mortals, 
 each one of us just a colony of nerves which 
 may go on a strike at any moment. Believe 
 me, there are some advantages in being com- 
 posed of placid teak- wood. 
 
 Theodore Morris arrived in town at eight 
 A gift of the this morning and at ten he was calling on 
 gods me. Well is he named Theodore, for he is 
 surely a gift of the gods j it is the only pos- 
 sible way to explain him. 
 
 He came forward to meet me as I entered 
 the room, took both my hands and my only 
 safety lay in looking distinctly non-kissable. 
 160 
 
A DINNER PARTY AND A CALLER 
 
 He certainly does feel and reflect my moods 
 with startling readiness. But some day his 
 strong individuality will rise up and overflow 
 my moods as a river its banks ; I know it ! He 
 drew up two easy chairs in front of the fire j 
 seating me in one, he stretched out luxuriously 
 in the other. 
 
 " My lady, you are looking fine this morn- 
 ing j you are like an oriental princess in that 
 crimson embroidered creation you are wear- 
 ing." 
 
 " Did you ever hear of an oriental princess 
 who had gray locks and was forty years old? " 
 I asked rather acidly. 
 
 " Oh, there are certain advantages pos- 
 sessed by oriental princesses of which we may 
 not have heard," he answered smoothly. 
 I was silent and looked steadily into the 
 fire and he asked : 
 
 " Of what are you thinking ? " 
 
 " I never think any more j the longer one 
 lives the thicker come the brickbats of ex- why we may 
 perience about one's ears and one is obliged not think 
 to keep dodging and stop thinking." 
 
 " My lady is a pessimist this morning." 
 161 
 
CONFESSIONS TO A HEATHEN IDOL 
 
 " Some one says that a pessimist is one who 
 has seen an optimist," returned I pointedly. 
 " Look at me well, then, for I am he ; I am 
 happy and as serene as a June sky." 
 " How have you achieved it ? " 
 " Oh, it is a plan. I go about the world 
 like a waiter in a dining-car with my feet 
 wide apart to guard against an upset. I 
 make my base unnaturally broad so as to 
 stand the jar and not lose my balance nor spill 
 over, whatever happens." 
 
 " So that is your philosophy of life ! " 
 
 " No, I have n't any. A philosophy of life 
 
 A philosophy is like a bicycle ; it goes well on the level and 
 of life like a down hm and oyer d roads but with the 
 Ucycle 
 
 up-hill and the mud, one must needs get off 
 
 and push. However, one does not need a 
 philosophy in heaven, where I am this morn- 
 ing." 
 
 " I see no golden streets, and hear no harp- 
 strings vibrating," I returned perversely. 
 
 " Why should the two senses of sight and 
 hearing persist in the next world, and the 
 senses of touch, taste and smell be lost ? " 
 
 " Because the two former take us outside 
 162 
 
A DINNER PAETY AND A CALLER 
 
 of ourselves and the latter keep us within 
 ourselves." 
 
 " Happy thought, dear lady, but why not 
 picture heaven as a place of soft fabrics, The senses 
 
 velvety and satiny textures and downy cush- needed in 
 
 heaven 
 ions; and also a place of delectable viands 
 
 and above all, of enrapturing odors, helio- 
 trope, violet and rose. Why, the fragrance 
 of English violets takes me out of myself as 
 much as does a Beethoven sonata; and to 
 touch your garment is heaven for me," he 
 laid his finger on my sleeve ; and I was silent, 
 pondering on this utterly inexplicable power 
 of another personality to touch and awaken 
 unsuspected sides of one's nature. 
 
 " It is all a dream," I answered. 
 
 Ji I have worked hard for this wide-awake 
 world, and it owes me at least a dream," he only the 
 said softly as his hand clasped mine. " I re- 
 member that some one has said that only the 
 tangible is frangible, the impalpable abides." 
 
 We heard Hilda's voice outside; his 
 
 hand slid off mine like smoke, and he arose 
 
 alert and courtly to greet her. Though I 
 
 was in a state of inner embarrassment I knew 
 
 163 
 
CONFESSIONS TO A HEATHEN IDOL 
 
 I was calm in appearance, and greeted her 
 placidly. It is my way to be calm on the crust 
 when I am seething beneath. 
 
 "Why are you two cooped up here this 
 morning, when the outside world is so 
 glorious!" she asked breezily. 
 
 "We are loafing. What have you been 
 doing these two days ! " I asked. 
 
 *Me ! I have been busy getting back into 
 things again and I have so many interests 
 that I feel like this nice scorpion on your 
 oriental rug, as if I had a claw hooked on 
 each of the eight corners of the universe." 
 
 "Her universe is an octagon," murmured 
 
 An octagonal Mr. Morris, "and I could have sworn that it 
 universe was square . 
 
 "Thank you," replied Hilda, "four sides 
 more than you divined. I am not surprised ! 
 Well, yesterday I went to church to see 
 Jeannie Harvey married." 
 
 "A cheerful pastime j what did you think 
 about during the ceremony ? " I asked. 
 The new "I meditated on the futility of vows, and 
 marriage concluded I should make the ritual say <I 
 take thee, Jeannie, to be my wedded wife and 
 164 
 
A DINNER PARTY AND A CALIER 
 
 to get along with as best I can as long as I 
 can.'" 
 
 "My goodness ! " I ejaculated. 
 
 "Do not be profane," warned Hilda. 
 
 "There is so little of it that the oath is a 
 mild one," I explained. 
 
 "Often there is enough of it to swear at," 
 she answered pointedly. 
 
 "Please let my goodness rest and tell us 
 what else you have been doing." 
 
 "I am sure you have heard me say that I 
 wished I were a Digger squaw, when the 
 burden of being respectable became too 
 onerous. Last night I was not respectable 
 without the trouble of transmigrating, for I 
 went to hear the 'Lord Trillions/ " 
 
 "Rather light opera," laughed Mr. Morris. 
 
 "Light-headed but not light-hearted j the 
 music worthless, the dancing infamous, and Savagery 
 
 the humor, horse-play. No real Digger squaw P r6 / cra6fe 
 
 decadence 
 could have been induced to sit through it. I 
 
 am more sure than ever that when I take my 
 final leave of respectability, I shall take to 
 the woods and savagery rather than to the 
 footlights and decadence." 
 165 
 
CONFESSIONS TO A HEATHEN IDOL 
 
 "You look fresh and happy this morning," 
 suggested Mr. Morris admiringly. 
 
 "That is because Joe chanced to overtake 
 Joe in the me this morning when I was carrying a bas- 
 
 rdle of j, e j. o f ea tables to poor Bridget Carnahan. 
 Columbus 
 
 Joe is always an inspiration to me ; no one 
 
 encourages me in the path of virtue as he does. 
 "Whenever he discovers me doing anything 
 commendable, he is so pleased and enthusiastic 
 that I feel as abashed as if I had never done 
 a good deed before. Most of my friends take 
 it for granted that I am likely to display cer- 
 tain virtues, but he, never ! He discovers 
 them anew every time ; Joe is the Columbus 
 of my virtues." 
 
 "I thought I was the Columbus of your 
 virtues, because I make them stand on end 
 by making them boil," said I. 
 
 Sterilized "Boiling virtues must sterilize them," re- 
 virtues mar k e( i Mr. Morris thoughtfully. 
 
 "Go a step farther and make them anti- 
 septic. What a safe and attractive place this 
 world would be if it were the abode of anti- 
 septic virtues," quoth Hilda. 
 
 "Virtue is mostly inertia," said Mr. Morris. 
 166 
 
A DINNER PARTY AND A CALLER 
 
 "So is vice," I added. 
 
 "Virtue is commendable when it is worn 
 inside, like the pearl in the oyster, and not 
 on the outside like the quills on the fretful 
 porcupine," adjured Hilda. 
 
 "Many a time have I been impaled there- 
 on," I murmured. 
 
 "It was your just deserts; you are so soft 
 that impalement is inevitable," said Hilda 
 looking at me affectionately. 
 
 "Miss Vincent, when shall we give Mrs. 
 Lee another concert? I have not touched my His hear fa 
 heart's desire for three weeks, and I long to desire 
 have it in my hands again." 
 
 "How fortunate to be able to buy one's 
 heart's desire at any price ! " exclaimed Hilda. 
 
 "Mine cost me more than I was willing to 
 pay, for it belonged to my old teacher, Herr 
 Stainer, and I purchased it from his heirs. 
 Half the happiness of owning it was lost be- 
 cause he was gone." 
 
 "The world drives hard bargains," said 
 Hilda with unexpected sympathy. 
 
 " Strange, is it not," said I, " how happiness Tlie relativity 
 is meted out to us by making us choose be- f ha PP iness 
 167 
 
CONFESSIONS TO A HEATHEN IDOL 
 
 tween the greater and lesser hurts. Joy never 
 seems to be perfect ; it is joy simply by con- 
 trast." 
 
 " I refuse to listen to such cynical remarks," 
 said the gentleman, rising to go, " I fear if I 
 stay I shall become inoculated," and he bade 
 us a cheerful farewell. But was n't it a queer 
 conversation? 
 
 168 
 
CHAPTER XV 
 
 A SOCIAL FUNCTION WHICH WAS TRULY SOCIAL 
 
 JANUARY 10TH : It is 1 o'clock A.M. and 
 the bell in the tower is telling it abroad Ma Belle's 
 over the starlit valley. There are receptions rece P twn 
 and receptions, oh, hand-carved god ! Ma Belle's 
 belong to the latter class and all others to 
 the former. Ma Belle knows how to get inter- 
 esting people ont and how to make uninterest- 
 ing people interesting. Although it is so late, 
 I am too excited to sleep. My thoughts and 
 feelings seem to be whirling around many 
 storm centers like a compound cyclone ; so I 
 think I will tell you all about Ma Belle's re- 
 ception, and perhaps that will make me 
 sleepy, especially if you look weary and bored. 
 You should have seen Ma Belle to-night 
 and her house too, for then you could better Tfie manage- 
 
 understand what I have to tell you about this ment f 
 
 trains 
 wonderful party. Ma Belle was clad in a 
 
 169 
 
CONFESSIONS TO A HEATHEN IDOL 
 
 creamy velvet robe that trailed after her tall 
 The ideal and almost girlishly slender form as if it loved 
 hostess t(X g ome W0 men just haul their trains after 
 them by brute force ; while others wear trains 
 which flow after them with the sinuous grace- 
 fulness of a stream gladly flowing seaward. Ma 
 Belle wears the latter kind always. To-night 
 the rich old lace on her corsage was the back- 
 ground for one large, perfect, pale-pink rose. 
 Her beautiful white hair was crowned with a 
 wide comb of delicately wrought silver. Her 
 cheeks were flushed and her dark eyes ablaze 
 with excitement. Oh yes, Ma Belle has some 
 wrinkles in her face, since you are so impolite 
 as to ask ; but they are of the right sort sim- 
 ply the delicate outlines of character. If she 
 had one wrinkle less, she would be so much 
 the less beautiful. No other woman present 
 could compare with her in attractiveness. 
 When she greeted people, she said some little 
 word that made each guest feel received. Ma 
 Belle is like a diamond, she has a different 
 facet to sparkle under the ray of every indi- 
 vidual she meets. 
 
 Ma Belle's is the most interesting house that 
 170 
 
A TRULY SOCIAL FUNCTION 
 
 I was ever in. It is a long, low house on a 
 hill, and consists of a series of large, comfort- TJw ideal 
 able, homey rooms. There is no library in 1louse 
 it, but there are fire-places with great com- 
 fortable chairs in front of them ; and books 
 are scattered over the house, almost every 
 corner affording place for a bookshelf cun- 
 ningly contrived to entice the book lover. 
 Ma Belle says she would not dream of segre- 
 gating her books in one room any more than 
 she would her friends. She says that books 
 do not like to have other incompatible books Incompatible 
 in their neighborhood, and that she can volumes 
 imagine the suffering that would result from 
 placing Kipling by the side of Matthew 
 Arnold, or Stevenson by Jane Austen j she 
 says that most libraries impress her with an 
 atmosphere of mute endurance. Thus it hap- 
 pens that in Ma Belle's home there are con- 
 genial books and congenial pictures, and here 
 and there a piece of statuary, like the " Nar- 
 cissus " and the "Winged Victory." It is quite 
 impossible for any one to be stiff and formal 
 in such a sympathetic atmosphere, and that 
 is the reason, I think, why almost every one 
 171 
 
CONFESSIONS TO A HEATHEN IDOL 
 
 I talked with, to-night said real, and interest- 
 An ing things to me. No matter what sort of 
 
 undesirable peop i e Ma Belle brings together, they never 
 combination 
 
 form that impossible combination which is 
 
 like soup seasoned with tea, and which is too 
 often encountered on the social menu. 
 
 My first experience this evening was a walk 
 
 An through the conservatory with Professor May- 
 
 impersonal ^^ wllo is cu itured and thoughtful and has 
 
 soulful eyes, and yet is impersonal to a degree 
 that would make a disembodied ghost envious. 
 As I grow older, I have a higher appreciation 
 of impersonal attitudes and opinions. I am 
 getting so that I can converse vivaciously with 
 an idea whether it be male, female, or neuter, 
 or whether it be on two legs or six. He was 
 saying : 
 
 " As the years go by we realize that life is 
 so crowded that it is impossible to attain 
 much development j most of our powers lie 
 dormant because we do not have time to do 
 ourselves justice. We are like < laboring 7 
 students, we have to spend so much time earn- 
 ing the bread of life that we do not have 
 172 
 
A TRULY SOCIAL FUNCTION 
 
 time to study our lessons and make the bril- 
 liant showing we ought." 
 
 "Let us hope that the Recording Angel has 
 a different marking system than we have," I A superior 
 
 ventured comfortingly ; "we focus on the ex- *y stem f 
 
 marking 
 ceptional ; if we do our lessons very well or 
 
 very badly, we think about these occasions 
 with pride or shame ; but the greatest Teacher 
 must take into account the average work, day 
 by day, and let latent possibilities count for 
 something. Any one can easily see that no 
 life may be measured by its failures and still 
 have excuse for existence. Failure is nega- Failure is 
 tive and we should be judged by our positive 
 achievements.' J 
 
 "I grant you that, but a talent in a napkin 
 is useless no matter who knows that it is 
 there. My ideal of heaven is a place where 
 there is time and incentive for us each to grow 
 to full stature in every possibility. I always 
 think of these things when I come to Madam 
 Lee's, because it seems to me that she has 
 achieved on earth all that I hope to in 
 heaven." 
 
 173 
 
CONFESSIONS TO A HEATHEN IDOL 
 
 He was right. That defines Ma Belle per- 
 fectlyshe is the woman who has achieved. 
 
 My next encounter was with Marvin Gray, 
 Occidental a keen, placid and most handsome Quaker, a 
 placidity f r i en d o f Ma Belle from childhood. You do 
 not know what I mean by Quaker do you? 
 "Well, a Quaker is the embodiment of occi- 
 dental instead of oriental placidity a person 
 who reckons with the fates and refuses to be 
 disturbed by the results. Not a stoic, nay, 
 nay ! A stoic is one who says when his heart 
 aches, "Let it ache ! " and endures. A Quaker 
 says, "I will regard only the spirit ; I will 
 flow around the obstacles in my path like 
 water, always obeying the inner, divine man- 
 date, and not waste my strength in useless 
 rebellion, but use all experience for growth in 
 Marvin Gray, grace." I have always enjoyed Marvin Gray 
 Quaker because his presence enfolds me like a mantle 
 of rest; and he talks to me in the sweet 
 "plain" language which my mother used. I 
 greeted him with : 
 
 "I have not seen thee until now to wish thee 
 a happy new year ; may the coming year 
 bring thee fulfilment of thy dearest wish," 
 174 
 
A TKTILY SOCIAL FUNCTION 
 
 "Thee should have made certain about the 
 nature of the wish before thee said that," he Fulfilment 
 
 returned in a sweet and resonant voice. "I death to 
 
 aspiration 
 
 do not believe it would be good for any one 
 to get his dearest wish. I shall wish more 
 wisely for thee : May thy dearest wish ever 
 keep thy heart warm and hopeful by never 
 being fulfilled. Fulfilment is death to a 
 wish, and I would keep thy dearest wish in 
 the blossom stage, a source of interest and in- 
 spiration for a long time before it reaches fru- 
 ition." 
 
 "I am afraid thee thinks that small crops 
 are all I deserve ; too many of my wishes are 
 all petals and no fruit," I answered ruefully. 
 
 "Thee is not yet old enough to appreciate 
 the value of wishes unfulfilled," said he, a The secret of 
 
 sweet smile breaking the firm contour of his a 
 
 life 
 
 lips. "It is only while we are longing for 
 what may not be that we can live close to 
 humanity and still keep our sympathies fresh 
 for our fellow men." 
 
 I looked up into the depths of his calm 
 gray eyes and wondered if that had been the 
 secret of his own noble life of helpfulness. 
 175 
 
CONFESSIONS TO A HEATHEN IDOL 
 
 We were interrupted and I passed on conscious 
 of an inner glow, as if his sunshine had ripened 
 the side of me that was turned toward him. 
 
 Next there fell to my lot a callow psycholo- 
 The murky gist who was not a very promising social ob- 
 
 depths of the . t j p^hed to the straits of shocking 
 thought of J 
 
 ages him by declaring myself an apostle of medi- 
 ocrity. He evidently considered himself so 
 unusual that my words were nothing less than 
 heresy. While I was enjoying his discomfi- 
 ture, Dr. McGregor joined us, and my com- 
 panion turned with relief and evident rever- 
 ence to the head of his department. Dr. 
 McGregor is really a great manj and I have 
 always thought it a pity that he should be 
 sailing his boat on philosophy's stagnant pool 
 where his own thinking must ever be mir- 
 rored in the murky depths of what others 
 have thought. For he is a man to be out 
 in the sea of positive action, buffeting wind 
 and wave and all there is for a strong man to 
 buffet ; but now his buffeting is all within 
 himself, and his delicately lined face and rest- 
 less eyes show it." 
 
 "I am glad you have come," I exclaimed, 
 176 
 
A TRULY SOCIAL FUNCTION 
 
 "I hope you will help me to convince this 
 
 young man of the true worth of the extra- The great 
 
 ordinarily ordinary j and that there is very value f the 
 
 little use for the exceptional in this old 
 
 world- cushion ; help me to reveal to him the 
 
 great value of mere stuffing." 
 
 "No use ! Leave him to find the value of 
 it after he realizes he is it, as all the rest of 
 us have done. First we dream we are the 
 6 stuff/ and finally in raw humility learn to 
 add the i ing.' Come with me, I want to 
 show you something." As we passed on he 
 continued, "You were wasting your breath ! 
 And, my dear girl, you ought to realize that 
 wisdom born of experience has in it the ring 
 of cynicism when it is repeated for the edifi- 
 cation of the innocent." 
 
 "It is the only way to get even with the 
 teacher," said I. "He irritated me ; and I am 
 not a 'dear girl,' I am becoming truly aged, 
 and this is the evidence of it : Once every 
 human being was an object of breathless 
 interest to me. Now I call some stupid, some 
 tiresome and some with half-baked ideals, 
 irritating." 
 
 177 
 
CONFESSIONS TO A HEATHEN IDOL 
 
 "Wait a little, if he willlive, lie must learn. 
 Ideals a Too soon his ideals will cease their work as 
 
 goad instead insp i ra tion and begin that of tormentors. 
 
 of an 
 inspiration Instead of leading him, they will get behind 
 
 and goad him upward, making progress a 
 pain instead of a joy." 
 
 I made no answer, for Dr. McGregor always 
 Perfect compliments my comprehension of him by 
 
 frankness not talking to me ^^h an a pp a lli ng frankness. 
 a perfect 
 
 success And after such a bitter speech as that I al- 
 ways feel that I would not be so frank even 
 to the Lord in my prayers. No amount of 
 sympathy or imagination can change ego to tu, 
 and therefore absolute frankness is never a 
 perfect success. 
 
 He led me to the " Indian corner " of Ma 
 A Buddha Belle's study. There is a luxurious divan 
 
 from covere c[ with silk, embroidered with stripes of 
 Mandalay 
 
 barbarous yellow ; in front of it stretches a 
 
 great tiger skin, the snarling jaws and cruel 
 eyes of the mounted head rebelling openly 
 against the peaceful service of a foot-stool. 
 At the end of the divan is a book-case which 
 I carved for Ma Belle with a design of ele- 
 phant heads. On its shelves are various his- 
 178 
 
A TRULY SOCIAL FUNCTION 
 
 tories of India, books of oriental religions and 
 philosophy, and a set of Kipling's writings, 
 while on the top is a reclining Buddha carved 
 in alabaster ; above him is suspended a pea- 
 cock-feather punkah with its myriad eyes. 
 
 "Help me to admire this Buddha," he 
 commanded. 
 
 "He came from Mandalay," I explained. 
 
 "Look once at the graceful crudity of him 
 and his gold embroidered toga and his elab- 
 orate cap adorning his traditionally swollen 
 head." 
 
 "Yes, that extra head of Buddha's looks 
 like a coiffure and Madam Lee is driven al- 
 most wild by people who ask 'Who is she?'" 
 
 "She, indeed I " he ejaculated in scorn. 
 "Never she even though he has round cheeks A Nirvana 
 and leans serenely his head upon his hand. smile 
 That inscrutable smile and the mysterious 
 eyes that see Mrvana prove him Buddha. 
 He says as plainly as may be, 1 1 see all things 
 as they are; and you, O mortals, know no 
 more of what is than do the ants in yonder 
 mound know of the movements of the stars. 7 " 
 
 "He is made of alabaster j let me place a 
 179 
 
CONFESSIONS TO A HEATHEN IDOL 
 
 light behind him and you will see that he is 
 translucent/' exclaimed I, for I was very 
 proud of this Buddha. 
 
 The "To have a God one can see through, even 
 advantage of dimly, must be a comfort." muttered the man 
 
 translucent 
 
 Dwmity at my side. 
 
 Ma Belle says of Dr. McGregor that he 
 thinks too much ; that he is like a horse fallen 
 in the harness the only way to get him on 
 his feet is to sit on his head ; that if he would 
 only go out and work with a spade and pick- 
 axe for a year he would be the sweetest and 
 sanest of men. 
 
 As I drifted away from Dr. McGregor I 
 ISxerescent found myself consciously veering to the left 
 erudition k ecause I saw Professor Plumb advancing at 
 the right. Professor Plumb is regarded as a 
 very learned man, but his learning is no real 
 part of himself it is an abnormal growth ; 
 and although I am somewhat facile in per- 
 forming social feats, I never did feel at ease 
 while conversing with an excrescence. So I 
 steered my course toward a big man 
 whose massive head, crowned with touseled 
 curls, towered above the assemblage. He is 
 180 
 
A TRULY SOCIAL FUNCTION 
 
 Mr. Walton who lives on a great farm near 
 
 our town. There is something about him that A child of 
 
 is vigorous and virile and makes me always 
 
 conscious that he is a man. He is on the 
 
 most intimate terms with Mother Nature, so 
 
 I touched his arm and said : 
 
 " What are you doing in the madding 
 crowd, you who belong out among the 
 trees ? " 
 
 " Wishing that men were trees," was the 
 prompt reply. 
 
 " And women ? " 
 
 " Birds," he returned cheerfully. 
 
 " Ducks or geese ? " I queried. 
 
 " You are a bad lady, and if you are not 
 careful, I will wish you into a blue jay." 
 
 " Why ? " I remonstrated. 
 
 " Because you have on such a heavenly 
 blue gown and have such bad manners." 
 
 " My gown is n't blue, it is gray." 
 
 " It is just the bluish shimmering color that 
 is on the blue jay's wing," he declared 
 positively. 
 
 " Egotist ! " I upbraided, "to set yourself up 
 to judge of my manners." 
 181 
 
CONFESSIONS TO A HEATHEN IDOL 
 
 " Egotism is all right/ 7 he argued, " when it 
 
 Obnoxious looks you square in the eye and refuses to 
 
 egotism ] 3U ^g e> j^ j s obnoxious only when it is ram- 
 
 pant self-conceit, or when it turns tail and 
 
 sneaks off. The very worst of egotists are 
 
 those whose egotism is always skulking around 
 
 afraid of being kicked." I laughed appreci- 
 
 atively, and said : 
 
 "Let's not talk about folk; let's talk 
 about trees instead. What news have you of 
 them t " 
 
 " The latest news I got from the mountain 
 
 The latest yesterday ; there I observed that old hem- 
 
 newsofthe } oc k s are hopeless pessimists and young 
 
 trees 
 
 hemlocks are cheerful optimists. I saw an 
 
 old one and a young one standing side by 
 side ; there was a dreary drooping of the 
 boughs of the old one as if in memory of 
 years of snow storms ; a sullen attitude as if 
 the corners of its mouth were drawn down in 
 stoical disbelief of the world. While the 
 young one lifted its pretty branches eagerly 
 upward, as if longing for all that the world 
 can give, even of snow." 
 
 " I told you to talk of trees, not men." 
 182 
 
A TRULY SOCIAL FUNCTION 
 
 " You are impertinent, Madam Blue Jay 5 
 I am telling the truth about trees ; because it 
 happens to be a human truth also is not of the 
 slightest moment to me." 
 
 " Come over to the music room, I hear some 
 singing/ 7 I urged. 
 
 " Not I," he declared with disdain. 
 
 " Music hath its charms to soothe the savage 
 breast," I said warningly. 
 
 " By that same token I am no savage/' he Not a savage 
 answered with a laugh as he passed on. 
 
 On the way to the music room I was 
 stopped by Mr. Day, the artist, who is a most The artistic 
 fascinating individual sympathetic, respon- tem P erament 
 sive, impulsive and capricious a child in all 
 things save experience. He is very depen- 
 dent on his strong, serene wife ; and in some 
 way the golden thread of her love has guided 
 her through the maze of his infinite un- 
 expectedness. 
 
 " How is the last picture coming on f " I 
 asked. 
 
 " Nothing doing ! " he answered despon- 
 dently. 
 
 " What is the subject ? " 
 183 
 
CONFESSIONS TO A HEATHEN IDOL 
 
 " Oh, the same old landscape j I cannot do 
 anything else. Life is like an echo cave j we 
 stand at the entrance in glad youth and 
 shout j and all that comes after is simply 
 reverberation, echo after echo, each time 
 fainter until the end is reached." 
 
 " I judge from that remark that you have 
 reached the crisis," I replied understandingly. 
 
 " That is the worst of it j I am getting so 
 
 Nonpareil that all of my crises are spelled in plain 
 
 cnses non p are ii instead of italics or pica ; life is 
 
 scarcely worth the trouble when one's crises 
 
 are set up in nonpareil." 
 
 " I know what is the matter with you," I 
 cried, " the Lady Day has gone off for a 
 visit." 
 
 " Yes," he answered with a brilliant smile, 
 " Annie Laurie is away, and I have arrived 
 at that stage of dumb commonplaceness that 
 I wrote her a letter this morning telling her 
 I loved her, and blotted it, by Jove, with a 
 blotter advertising royal salad dressing. 
 Was n't that the limit ? " 
 
 " She is a wonderful woman," I said with 
 enthusiasm. 
 
 184 
 
A TRULY SOCIAL FUNCTION 
 
 " No words to describe her with ! Among 
 her other qualities she is a natural gambler ; A charming 
 the source and advent of the next dollar is to ff ambler 
 her an occasion of perennial joy and interest. 
 She is Helen of Troy and Pierpont Morgan 
 combined." 
 
 " With such a wife you do not need to 
 make any resolutions for the new year/ 7 I 
 said with an attempt at gaiety. But he re- 
 fused to be cheered and went on : 
 
 " Is n't it alarming how all our fine plans 
 and promises to ourselves slip out of our 
 grasp like a handful of sand the harder we 
 hold it the more it sifts between the fingers ; 
 the more tightly we grasp the more we feel it 
 ooze, becoming less and less." 
 
 " You are tired to-night," I said sooth- 
 ingly. 
 
 " That 's so," he acquiesced cheerfully, " I 
 am tired and I long to rest for months with TJie futile use 
 nothing to do except to trifle in pastels with oj?a head 
 the colors of God's world and listen to Cleo- 
 patra sing. If I could do that I should soon 
 get my head back on my shoulders. Of late 
 I have been doing my work with my hands 
 185 
 
CONFESSIONS TO A HEATHEN IDOL 
 
 and meanwhile towing niy head around after 
 me at the end of a string, which is a damn 
 futile way to use a head. There, don't be 
 shocked ! I have to swear once in a while ; 
 and I might as well for I am bound eventu- 
 ally to suffer the tortures of the wicked and 
 what is even worse the oblivion of the 
 unfit." 
 
 " Wait until the Queen of Sheba returns 
 and brings you back your pink spectacles." 
 
 " Pink spectacles are made of the pigment 
 
 The of red blood corpuscles, did you know that ? 
 
 composition ^3 mv re ^ corpuscles have gone on a strike 
 
 spectacles l eav i n g the white ones in possession, and that 
 
 is why my world is all clay color." 
 
 " Just like the wabbly clay marbles that I 
 
 used to pat up, and which always cracked when 
 
 I baked them," I murmured sympathetically. 
 
 " By jingo ! you are almost as nice as the 
 
 Compelling Czarina," he replied gratefully. Meanwhile 
 
 music we ha^ b een pushing music-ward, and arrived 
 
 in time to hear the last line of a song and the 
 
 polite patter of applause which followed. 
 
 Then I heard the tentative tuning of a violin, 
 
 and when we gained sight of the piano there 
 
 186 
 
A TRULY SOCIAL FUNCTION 
 
 sat Hilda looking as pleasant as a May morn- 
 ing, and Theodore Morris pointing at some- 
 thing on the sheet of music before her with 
 his bow 5 in a moment they broke with a fine 
 swing into a Schubert sonata. So well they 
 played that silence fell on the chattering 
 assembly, a tribute not always paid to music 
 at our receptions. 
 
 " Who is that man?" asked Mr. Day, when 
 the last strain of music had died away, leav- 
 ing us all satisfied and silent before we 
 remembered to spoil it all by applauding in 
 our noisy American way. 
 
 " His name is Morris, and he is a special 
 friend of Joe's," I answered nonchalantly. 
 
 " He looks too sleek to make such music j 
 but, by Jove, he must have an artistic upset Internally 
 inside, quite out of sight," declared he. We artistic 
 were approached by Mrs. Durland, petite 
 and vivacious. Mr. Walton says that when 
 she cocks her little head on one side and looks 
 at him, he always expects her to say, " chick- 
 a-dee-dee." 
 
 " Is n't that man a miracle ! " she asked, 
 her bright eyes dancing. 
 187 
 
CONFESSIONS TO A HEATHEN IDOL 
 
 " Why a miracle f " exclaimed I. 
 
 " I always maintained than nothing short 
 of a miracle would make Hilda Vincent play 
 in public, so it is evident that he is it." 
 
 " I think my mamma-in-law is the miracle 
 
 T}M origin of in this instance," I averred. 
 
 the miracle u Don ? t be too sure j I never saw Hilda 
 
 look so radiant as she does to-night," replied 
 Mrs. Durland. 
 
 " Dressed as she is in a soft white cloud, 
 she looks like a blooming angel," mused the 
 artist. Hilda was smiling back at all the con- 
 gratulating people gathered around her, and 
 was introducing Mr. Morris right and left ; 
 and I could imagine his wholly empty and 
 trite replies to their praises. As the twain 
 came toward us, I stepped forward extend- 
 ing a hand to each. 
 
 "It was surely a great triumph, for you 
 stilled the multitude," I said warmly. 
 
 "I am so excited," replied Hilda, "that I 
 Hilda's am meditating a concert tour j even now I can 
 concert tour see mv h an a bni s twining around telephone 
 poles and climbing board fences." 
 
 "I hope you will take me along, Miss Vin- 
 cent," said Mr. Morris, lackadaisically. 
 188 
 
A TRULY SOCIAL FUNCTION 
 
 "Oh, no, you are too dangerous a rival," 
 cried Hilda, " all that applause was yours to- 
 night. I could n't think of taking an eclipse 
 along, it would n't be professional." 
 
 Mr. Day and Mr. Morris talked together for 
 a few moments while Hilda, Mrs. Durland and 
 I chatted. Afterwards when Mr. Day passed 
 on with me he asked : 
 
 "Of what sort of stuff is that fiddler of yours 
 made anyway?" 
 
 "I have never tested his composition," I 
 answered with conscious irritation. "Shall 
 we go and get some litmus paper to see 
 whether it turns blue or red in his vicinity? " 
 
 "I should say he was made of asbestos and 
 stuffed with ice," rejoined Mr. Day specula- Asbestos and 
 tively. Then Mrs. Walton joined us j she is %CG 
 a small lady with a most expressive face, and 
 a tired little wrinkle between her languorous A sense of 
 dark eyes. Mrs. Walton has a nestful of humor 
 
 pleasing in a 
 
 children, but we never get tired of hearing parent 
 her tell about them, for she has a sense of 
 humor as well as a sense of perspective which 
 most parents seem to lack when talking about 
 their children. So we hastened to ask her for 
 the latest bit of news of her brood. 
 189 
 
CONFESSIONS TO A HEATHEN IDOL 
 
 "I do not know what to do with Gertrude," 
 said she in a plaintive, child-like voice. 
 "However bad she is, she never repents. She 
 may be led to concede that she will never 
 commit a particular sin again, but I think she 
 is always glad that she committed it once ; she 
 regards every naughty act as just that much 
 treasure laid up in spite of fate and me. Yes- 
 terday she and Dorothy were very naughty, 
 and I placed each in a corner, face to the 
 wall and told them to stand there until they 
 felt repentant. Dorothy can always repent 
 as soon as she is hurt, so she was soon free. 
 But Gertrude remained obdurate until she 
 swayed and tottered from standing so long j 
 I felt sorry for her and thought I would help 
 her by prompting her conscience into imme- 
 diate activity, so I asked, ' Gertrude, do you 
 not feel miserable ? ' i Nowhere 'cept in my 
 legs/ promptly replied the hardened little 
 sinner." There was a certain subdued quality 
 in the laughter which followed this story. So 
 many of us had experienced that sort of 
 repentance ourselves. 
 
 190 
 
CHAPTER XVI 
 
 MENTAL AND PHYSICAL REFRESHMENTS 
 
 JANUARY 10TH (Continued') : I saw Pro- 
 fessor Wolcott coming toward me, smiling 
 as ever. Professor Wolcott considers the 
 world too infinitesimal to scowl at. When 
 he reached me he proffered me his arm and 
 said : 
 
 "Come, Mrs. Lee, there are several delect- 
 able things in the dining room that were fore- A delightful 
 ordained from the beginning of the world escort 
 to refresh you and me." I went with him 
 gladly ; there is something about Professor 
 Wolcott that touches the deeps, even if the 
 conversation remains in the shallows. 
 
 "I have not seen you for a long time," said 
 I, "tell me the news of yourself, and how you 
 are enjoying your work, and what you do for 
 play, and all about everything." 
 191 
 
CONFESSIONS TO A HEATHEN IDOL 
 
 "Work is going very well," he answered, 
 Well his fine face lighting up. "I have most satis- 
 
 sculptured factory classes and though I dare not hope 
 ignorance 
 
 that I have set up within the minds of my 
 
 pupils altars of enlightenment, yet I fondly 
 believe that I have chiseled their ignorance 
 into more picturesque forms and more inter- 
 esting shapes." 
 
 "Education for most of us, I fear, means 
 erosion instead of building up," I answered 
 with an appreciative laugh, "there is not 
 much difference between teacher and pupil, 
 between youth and age in that respect is 
 there? Do you know of any differences be- 
 tween youth and age in any respect, if so 
 please tell me what they are ! " 
 
 "One difference is that when we are young 
 How age it seems difficult to really live anything, life 
 
 differs from seems SQ far beyond ^ so out of reac]l? ^ if 
 
 it were at the end of the rainbow. But when 
 we are old it is difficult for us not to live all 
 things, we are so intimate with living. When 
 we are young there is a wide chasm between 
 dreaming and living ; but when we are old 
 and life gets worn in its bearings, the ma- 
 192 
 
MENTAL REFRESHMENTS 
 
 chinery goes so easily that our dreams materi- 
 alize while we are dreaming them." 
 
 "That is because our dreams come to be 
 limited and narrowed to the bounds of sordid 
 possibility. I often think that it would have 
 simplified matters if we could all have been 
 cut from the same pattern like these cham- 
 pagne wafers, for instance." 
 
 " We are, and that is another difference be- 
 tween youth and age. Youth deems itself cut 
 after a unique pattern, while age feels a kin- 
 ship to all the world and looks askance at the 
 unique." 
 
 "Like Joe's description of an entertain- 
 ment last night he averred that it was ' aw- 
 fully unique.' " 
 
 " Great Scott ! What are you people doing, 
 anyway, mixing philosophy with ice-cream," 
 said Tom's voice behind us. " I call it the 
 height of egotism to philosophize while eat- 
 ing." 
 
 " Certainly it is," rejoined Professor Wol- 
 cott, "a good healthy ego is able at any A healthy 
 time to pat its stomach with one hand and e 9 
 rub its head with the other." 
 193 
 
CONFESSIONS TO A HEATHEN IDOL 
 
 "We were discussing the very personal 
 topic of growing old," I explained. 
 
 " What could you youngsters possibly find 
 Life grows to say on that subject?" asked Tom supe- 
 riorly. " Now I know something about it ; I 
 discovered that something was the matter 
 with life not long since, and upon investiga- 
 ting found that it was merely growing bald. 
 Hard, bare facts are no longer disguised by 
 the perfumed and curly locks of youth ; but 
 they appear now in all their prominences and 
 depressions like the plaster model of the 
 phrenologist." 
 
 " Will you cover it with a skull cap of phil- 
 osophy or a wig of optimism ? " asked Pro^ 
 fessor Wolcott. 
 
 " A halo of glamour, if you please," an- 
 A halo of swered Tom. " By the way, Professor, I heard 
 glamour |_ ne j n t eres ti n g news yesterday that you were 
 writing a book." 
 
 " Yes," admitted the accused, " the mania 
 of the century was upon me and I felt that I 
 should go sane if I did not straightway write 
 a book." 
 
 "What is it about? " queried I. 
 194 
 
MENTAL REFRESHMENTS 
 
 " Man." 
 
 "Ethnological rather than humanitarian," 
 I hazarded. 
 
 "Why do you say that?" he demanded 
 with asperity " my interest in humanity is 
 almost inhuman at times." 
 
 " I do not see how you find time to write 
 books," I argued. "I do not see how any HOW 
 professor in a live college finds time for writ- P r f essors 
 
 ing. Father said yesterday that his work was 
 
 so in arrears that it was heaped mountain- 
 high on all sides of him, and Joe irreverently 
 advised that he burrow in it and hibernate 
 like a woodchuck. I should like to have you 
 tell me where you found the time and energy 
 to write a book." 
 
 " All things take time and energy," he ar- 
 gued, " even keeping still and resting require 
 time and energy." 
 
 " The energy being mainly directed to ward- 
 ing off interruptions," suggested I. " It seems Life too rapid 
 
 to me that our day and generation are singu- f r t1lou 9 llt 
 
 to take toll 
 larly unproductive of thought. We are all 
 
 so busy with actual living that there is little 
 chance for thought to take toll." 
 195 
 
CONFESSIONS TO A HEATHEN IDOL 
 
 "That >s right," said Tom, "most of us go 
 
 Human through the day as if we were shot from a 
 
 projectiles gun . not only s | lot but witn a screw mo tion, 
 
 so that we bore our way through the business 
 of the day without let or hindrance." 
 
 " And when the work of the day is children," 
 chimed in Mrs. Walton who had been listen- 
 ing, " one has the added task of dodging all 
 obstacles when speeding like a ball, which is 
 manifestly not the nature of projectiles." 
 
 As we left the dining-room, Tom and I drifted 
 off together. " I have not seen you since New 
 Year's," said I reproachfully. " I hope that 
 none of your vows were made for the purpose 
 of excluding me." 
 
 " I seriously considered the making of such 
 a vow, but broke it before I made it, which 
 was a prompt conservation of energy," he 
 replied. I had not expected he would say 
 just this, and I went on, hurriedly : 
 
 "What a pity that the years cannot be 
 sliced completely apart at the New Year like 
 pieces of bread ! 
 
 Unfinished u The first order of the New Year is to pro- 
 business cee ^ with the unfinished business, always. 
 
 196 
 
MENTAL REFRESHMENTS 
 
 "Like weaving a pattern, one must always 
 finish what one has been foolish enough to be- 
 gin, and put the finishing touches to the 
 figure, no matter how tired one may be of it." 
 
 "Mercy on us, Marian, what have you been 
 doing that you speak of it in that lugubrious 
 tone?" 
 
 "Nothing at all, just thinking," I answered 
 guardedly. 
 
 "Thinking about things is most confound- 
 edly disagreeable, usually," he replied with 
 
 unction. "One could be so cheerfully sinful, worse than 
 
 conscience 
 
 if it were not for thinking about it. Think- 
 ing is worse than conscience j conscience is 
 only concerned with ethics and altruism, while 
 thinking includes these and also the conscious- 
 ness of the spectacle one is making of one's 
 self meanwhile." 
 
 "Yes, that is just it," complained I. "Being 
 bad is not uncomfortable, it is too often sheer The agonizing 
 
 joy ; it is the getting to be good again that momentof 
 
 trie tvtcfccd 
 
 hurts, just as coming to consciousness after 
 drowning is agonizing." 
 
 "How did you happen to find that out* 
 You never 'came to, 7 you know you never did." 
 197 
 
CONFESSIONS TO A HEATHEN IDOL 
 
 "Tom, I am 'coining to 7 this minute ; we are 
 both bad ; for here we stand talking our own 
 talk when Ma Belle especially commanded 
 that we ' mingle."' 
 
 "I have mingled to-night with so much 
 
 Social energy and enthusiasm that already I feel 
 
 dilution ^ji^ed, and am a mere trituration of my own 
 
 self. However, I will do as I am bid, and 
 
 will go and mingle some more," grumbled 
 
 Tom as he left me. 
 
 I passed on, meeting and stopping to speak 
 Under- to many, and almost unconsciously avoiding 
 s others. Strange and unmapped are the under- 
 currents of the social sea, that flow straight 
 from one individual to another and yet seem 
 never to touch other individuals at all. Some 
 whom I met I compassed, and to some I was 
 barely tangent and was more than satisfied 
 with merest tangency. I had almost reached 
 the music room again when a firm hand took 
 my arm from behind and the voice of Theo- 
 dore Morris murmured in my ear : 
 
 "You are working too hard to-night, my 
 lady, come with me for a moment and rest." 
 He drew my arm through his and led me to a 
 198 
 
MENTAL REFRESHMENTS 
 
 window seat, away from the throng. As he 
 piled soft cushions behind me he continued, 
 "Now rest ; you need not say a word, and I 
 will talk stupid talk which will require no 
 mental effort, on your part, as listener." 
 
 "I am tired ! " I acknowledged as I leaned 
 back luxuriously, " I am tired in that queer, Politeness 
 quivery fashion which comes when one's f**9v*& 
 politeness aches from steady strain. I wish I 
 knew more about the polite nerves and 
 muscles ; I can feel them in my anatomy but 
 I do not know where they are exactly. I 
 sometimes get so tired that I wish I were 
 made of papier mache like Dr. Wilde's manikin, 
 so that I could take myself apart and lay each 
 piece off by itself to rest. You have had a 
 pleasant evening I hope ! " 
 
 "If I have not, there was good reason for it 
 and I am making up for it now. As I saw Gayety minus 
 you pass from one to another to-night, smiling % 
 and sparkling and so eagerly sought, I felt 
 old a hundred years old and worn out. I 
 have been meditating on the futility of gayety 
 when the verve has gone out of it. By Jove, 
 it is too much like beer which has stood long 
 199 
 
CONFESSIONS TO A HEATHEN IDOL 
 
 in the open glass ; it is not good enough to 
 drink for pleasure and it is too mild to effect 
 nausea. It is simply colossally insipid. All 
 the evening I have had the feeling of alleged 
 pleasure. To act the part well enough to de- 
 ceive others is easy ; but to act so well that 
 one's self is deceived is rather difficult." 
 
 "Except when the red light is turned on," 
 I interrupted. 
 A stimulant " Yes, red light is a bracer," he admitted. 
 
 "I do not like what you have been saying 
 the least bit," I remonstrated. "Everyone 
 ought to be deliriously happy at Madam 
 Lee's reception." 
 
 "The fault is with myself," he hastened to 
 say, "Madam Lee is superb ; had I been able 
 to remain in her neighborhood I must cer- 
 tainly have lived up to my privileges. The 
 trouble is I struck an arid place to-night. 
 
 "Did you ever notice that sometimes the 
 
 Arid places outlook is just teeming with interest ; and 
 
 then some morning one awakes to find the 
 
 whole thing bare, stale, flat and unprofitable. 
 
 One day the scenery is all high mountains, 
 
 and the next it is all sand dunes. And I have 
 
 200 
 
MENTAL EEFBESHMEKTS 
 
 been wandering among sand dunes all day." 
 I looked at him for a moment perplexed, and 
 then said provokingly, with obvious conde- 
 scension : 
 
 " Poor boy ! It is almost as hard to get 
 ready to live as it is to live, is n't it ? " 
 
 " You are naughty, my lady, and you know 
 it ; and you ought to be punished," he said, 
 half angry and half laughing. 
 
 " It is punishment enough to know that 
 you have been so miserable," I answered 
 softly. He looked comforted and took the seat 
 at my side. 
 
 " You are skilled in the art of kissing the 
 place to make it well. I am at this moment On a thin 
 having a perfectly blissful time. My lady, c 
 you are entrancing in that gown ! If you 
 had let me see more of you I should have 
 found my sand dunes blossoming like a 
 garden." 
 
 " This is the first time this evening that 
 you have evinced the slightest desire to see 
 me." 
 
 " What mendacity ! " he murmured. 
 
 " I am glad that you commanded me to 
 201 
 
CONFESSIONS TO A HEATHEN IDOL 
 
 sit down/' I admitted. " I like to be ordered 
 to do things." 
 
 " I love to boss," he interrupted. 
 
 " People are beginning to go ! " I ex- 
 claimed, rising. 
 
 " Allans," he said resignedly, and together 
 we sought Ma Belle. We found her, and Mr. 
 Morris expressed his thanks for a pleasant 
 evening in a most felicitous manner. 
 
 Tom and I remained until all the guests 
 had departed. I think that both of us wished 
 to make sure that our dear one was not too 
 tired after all her hospitable exertion. Tom 
 said: 
 
 " Fair hostess, it was a great success. You 
 are simply buried beneath a mountain of 
 compliments ; not even your head shows 
 above the heap." 
 
 A head above " You are mistaken, Tom, I always keep 
 compliments my head above com pii me nts," she replied 
 
 with a vivid smile. 
 
 " By Jove, you do that ! " asserted Tom. 
 Then I kissed her and told her it was the 
 most interesting reception I had ever at- 
 tended. 
 
 202 
 
MENTAL REFRESHMENTS 
 
 u Then I know you were particularly inter- 
 esting," answered she. " For a reception is Wherein a 
 like everything else in life-you get out of 
 it only what you put into it." other 
 
 "Are you very tired?" I asked solici- 
 tously. 
 
 " I feel like this poor rose," she answered, 
 taking the flower from her corsage, " my 
 petals are not only limp but shriveled." 
 
 " Your simile is good, Mrs. Lee, the rose 
 is sweeter than when it was fresh," said Tom 
 gravely, taking the rose from her hand. Ma 
 Belle was silent, and I wondered if her eyes 
 were just a little moist when she bade us 
 good night. Tom and I were both silent for a 
 time after we got into the carriage ; finally 
 he said : 
 
 " You are tired, are n't you little girl f " 
 
 " Tired to death of myself, Tom." 
 
 " Now what has she been doing to make 
 herself tired of her blessed self f " mused Tom. 
 
 " I shall never, never tell ! " I asserted with 
 energy. 
 
 " Then I shall have to find out all by my A disturbing 
 lonely." proposition 
 
 203 
 
CONFESSIONS TO A HEATHEN IDOL 
 
 " Oh, don't ! " I cried in a panic. " I do 
 not want you to be tired of me, too." 
 
 " You need not fear that, ever, Marian," he 
 A comforting said gravely as he helped me out of the car- 
 good mglit r j age? an( j there was sympathy and almost 
 tenderness in his tones as he bade me good 
 night. And so, taking all things into considera- 
 tion, it is no wonder that I cannot sleep, and 
 that I am keeping Your Matchless Ugliness 
 awake while the sma 7 hours have grown 
 greater. 
 
 204 
 
CHAPTER XVII 
 
 DOMESTIC CATACLYSMS, AND THEIR TREAT- 
 MENT 
 
 JANUARY 20TH: Wise one, A suppose in 
 the land of castes, whence you came, the Mistress from 
 
 serving people are in such a state of heredi- necessit y 
 
 servant from 
 tary subjugation that the ways of households choice 
 
 go on steadily with no upsets. Far different 
 is it in this land where the mistress is mistress 
 by necessity and the servant is servant by 
 choice. It has always been a source of pride 
 to me that my household folk are happy and 
 devoted to the family interests. But this 
 does not save me from an occasional day of 
 extreme annoyance when everything goes 
 wrong. There is hoodoo in the very atmos- 
 phere and friction between every two 
 contiguous parts of the household machinery, 
 and the creaking thereof is nerve-lacerating. 
 205 
 
CONFESSIONS TO A HEATHEN IDOL 
 
 The only really strong point in my character, 
 I daresay, is that I have learned to keep 
 serene when everything around me is seething 
 and bubbling. That is what I did to-day 
 when everything about the house went 
 wrong, but I did not know that anyone in the 
 family realized it. Therefore I was amused 
 and a little gratified by a conversation which 
 took place to-night when Ma Belle and Tom 
 joined us around the study fire. 
 
 " What has happened to you to-day ? " 
 asked Ma Belle. 
 
 " We have been suffering a domestic cata- 
 clysm," I answered with feeling, and Tom 
 exclaimed, 
 
 " What do I hear ? I had the impression 
 
 A rift in tlie that your domestic affairs always ran smoothly. 
 
 lute Your housekeeping is famed for its perfection, 
 
 and now I am informed that there is a rift in 
 
 the * lute. I am deeply pained. Please 
 
 explain what you mean by cataclysms." 
 
 " Well, this morning the coffee was muddy 
 
 A household and refused to pour through the spout but 
 
 hoodoo came out o f t ne top and burned my hand. 
 
 The chops were burned and the rolls heavy 
 
 206 
 
DOMESTIC CATACLYSMS 
 
 and even the amiable pater remonstrated. 
 Mary was sulky and my sunny Maggie turned 
 vixenish. When the exquisite Mrs. Delavan 
 called, I discovered too late that there was 
 dust on the piano deep enough to preserve 
 cuneiform inscriptions ; the fire-place was a 
 desert of discouraged looking cinders and 
 ashes, and the flowers in the vases were 
 too far gone for anything save mementoes." 
 
 " Yes," interrupted Joe, " and at luncheon 
 the salad had so little dressing, that it was A scandalous 
 positively indecent for it to appear in polite salad 
 society ; and the custard was as curdled as was 
 Mary's temper when, a little later, she smashed 
 the meat platter to smithereens." 
 
 " Did the Irish temperament have anything 
 to do with the slump ? " asked Ma Belle. 
 
 " I think not," I answered with decision. 
 " Such days come without regard to tempera- The Irish 
 ments. We are altogether too prone to 
 blame the Irish temperament for too many 
 things that go wrong. After all is said, the 
 Irish temperament is essentially the artistic 
 temperament except that it is less self-centered. 
 Those possessed of it are sympathetic, humor- 
 207 
 
CONFESSIONS TO A HEATHEN IDOL 
 
 ous, making light of burdens j imaginative 
 and therefore often not strictly truthful ; not 
 because they mean to be untruthful but 
 The truth too because the bare truth seldom satisfies the 
 bare (j rama tic demands of a situation. Moreover^ 
 they are likely to experience sudden changes 
 in points of view ; and there is a certain lack 
 of sequence in their acts, a sort of an undis- 
 tributed middle in their logic which is discon- 
 certing to the prosaic Anglo-Saxon who is 
 wont to call them unreliable, which is 
 unjust." 
 
 " Bravo ! " cried Tom, " I am glad my 
 forebears were Irish." 
 
 " I wish you would tell us how you managed 
 your cataclysm," said Ma Belle. 
 
 "I'll tell that story," said Joe. "She 
 
 Pleasing started in by being entertaining to beat the 
 
 lubrication band she helped Mary dust, conversing with 
 
 her vivaciously meanwhile, with marked and 
 
 gratifying results. Then she went into the 
 
 kitchen and was so ' fly J and diverting that 
 
 she soon had Maggie in high feather. Marnie 
 
 does not save up all her social ammunition 
 
 for company, but uses it instead as Fourth of 
 
 July fireworks in the household realm." 
 
 208 
 
DOMESTIC CATACLYSMS 
 
 " That 's true," added father, " and she never 
 finds fault at the moment a thing goes wrong, Constructive 
 but waits until the annoyance of the failure ******** 
 has passed from the mind of the servant as 
 well as her own. This is the way she manages 
 to make her criticisms constructive instead of 
 destructive." 
 
 " Eight you are, Professor," pursued the ir- 
 reverent Joe. " 1 7 11 tell you how she does it : TJie reduction 
 She takes the domestic cataclysm in her arms l a 
 
 domestic 
 and pats it on the back until it changes to a cataclysm 
 
 kittyclysm ; and then she gently strokes the 
 fur the right way until there is nothing left 
 but the wide smile of the Cheshire cat." 
 
 We all laughed and the conversation drifted 
 to more interesting channels. When Ma 
 Belle and Tom were getting ready to depart, 
 the latter said to me when no one else heard : 
 
 "Madam Marian, I wish I were a cata- 
 clysm," and he looked at me, his face lighted 
 with his most delightful smile. 
 
 "Why take such extreme measures?" I 
 asked audaciously. His smile suddenly went An audacious 
 out, and his face looked worn and tired as he 
 bade me good night. 
 
 209 
 
CHAPTER XVIII 
 
 THROUGH THE PINE WOODS WITH TOM 
 
 T^EBRUARY20TH : Since teak- wood neither 
 February JL freezes nor melts, I imagine that your Gra- 
 premonitions c i ous Presence is not much interested in the 
 weather ; however, since these confessions are 
 mine and not yours, I take the liberty of stat- 
 ing that we have had a short respite from 
 cold weather, and for a day or two we have 
 dared to have February-ish thoughts of 
 spring. And to-day Tom came after me for 
 the long promised drive to the pine woods. 
 
 We started at four o'clock. The air was al- 
 An most balmy and the sleighing was perfect. 
 
 accomplished Tom tucked me j n care fiilly for he knows I am 
 driver 
 
 a luxurious body and that I love to have about 
 
 me the warm, furry skins that once kept warm 
 
 the howling wolf. The horses were in gay 
 
 210 
 
A DEIVE WITH TOM 
 
 spirits and gave Tom plenty of chances to 
 show his superb skill as a driver j there is 
 between him and his horses a perfect under- 
 standing, and he never uses the whip except 
 when teaching them to obey his voice. This 
 once accomplished, his voice is the controlling 
 power and his driving is a work of art. 
 
 "What a delightful sensation after such an 
 awful day as I have had ! " I exclaimed with 
 a sigh of contentment. 
 
 "What has made her day so awful? " Tom 
 asked soothingly. 
 
 "A day spent with the oughts, social 
 oughts, business oughts, household oughts, An expert 
 and all this array of oughts added together accountant 
 has produced naught save weariness." 
 
 "I don't see it that way at all, little woman. 
 I place you as the numeral at the left of all 
 those naughts and it makes a big figure. 
 Great Scott, Marian, you never did know how 
 to count? " 
 
 "Thank you," I murmured meekly. "I 
 
 hope you do not think that I was complaining. 
 
 It is only that I sometimes feel that under 
 
 the pressure of these outside oughts the inside 
 
 211 
 
CONFESSIONS TO A HEATHEN IDOL 
 
 decencies get crowded into a small corner ; 
 somehow it hurts one's self-respect." 
 
 "Better say vanity is hurt. Each and 
 every woman nowadays is perfectly sure 
 that she can do all the things there are to do 
 in this big world j and when she finds this an 
 impossible achievement, her vanity is hurt, 
 eh?" 
 
 "Oh, well ! The difference between self- 
 
 Vanity or self- respect and vanity is merely one of degree, I 
 
 respect? suppose j vanity craves the approval of the 
 
 world at large and self-respect demands the 
 
 approval of self as well ; it is a little more 
 
 subjective, that is all." 
 
 "Oh, you bad little cynic ! " exclaimed 
 Tom, with a most dramatic gritting of the 
 teeth. 
 
 "No, I am not a cynic ; but as the years go 
 The wrong on I find new powers in myself for transmut- 
 
 Und f ing the gold of enthusiasm into the lead of 
 alchemy 
 
 commonplace a sort of back-action alchemy 
 
 that has never received as much attention 
 from philosophers as it deserves." 
 
 We were now climbing the hill. It had 
 212 
 
A DKIVE WITH TOM 
 
 been a soft, mild day, save for erratic, furtive 
 snow squalls which threatened to turn to rain. An impres- 
 ts we gained the crest of a knoll, Tom 
 stopped the horses while we looked at the 
 scene below us. The hills on the far horizon 
 were dimly veiled in storm clouds so that 
 they seemed very distant ; the nearer hills 
 were in shadow j the forests scattered over 
 them, outlined by snowy fields, were a vivid 
 blue-purplesuch a color as only an impres- 
 sionist dares to paint j and yet it was so in 
 harmony with the landscape and sky that it 
 was beyond the reach of any impressionist. 
 While I was reveling in this marvelous color, 
 the sun rifted the clouds, and a field of sun- 
 shine sprang into being just beyond the 
 purple. It was all so beautiful that the tears 
 came into my eyes. 
 
 " It is beautiful, is it not ? " said Tom ; as I 
 did not answer, he looked at me and then added 
 remorsefully : "I am a blunderer, Marian. 
 How is it that you who revel in the subtle 
 suggestiveness of elisions ever came to be 
 friends with me, who, like an overgrown boy 
 213 
 
CONFESSIONS TO A HEATHEN IDOL 
 
 in the reading class spell all my words out 
 letter by letter, syllable by syllable, at the 
 top of my voice ? " 
 
 A very good " I suspect it is because I enjoy your voice/' 
 reason j answered with a contented laugh. 
 
 " Nice girl ! " said Tom as he reached for 
 
 Evergreen the robes to fold them closer around me. We 
 
 twilight S p ed onwar( j ^ii we reached a high plateau, 
 
 and there massed darkly against the northern 
 horizon were the pine woods. The setting 
 sun threw slant beams athwart its blackness 
 touching the nearer trees into soft billows 
 of light, and then disappearing left all in 
 shadow. It was deep twilight in the woods 
 as we entered ; the almost oppressive silence 
 was broken only by the sound of the horses 7 
 hoofs on the scant snow of the needle-car- 
 peted road. On either side dimly visible were 
 innumerable columns holding aloft the black 
 canopy, which was broken in a tasseled fresco 
 above our heads, against a sky beset with 
 stars which had been invisible to us until then. 
 Almost imperceptibly we became conscious 
 of a faint, far, mysterious sound a sibilant 
 214 
 
A DRIVE WITH TOM 
 
 breathing somewhere aloft which grew louder 
 
 as it came nearer, until, like a great surf on a TJie song of 
 
 rocky shore, it seemed to break above our the P ines 
 
 heads, and then recede, leaving us again in 
 
 silence. Tom murmured, " I left the bells 
 
 off the horses to-night that we might hear 
 
 this." Again and again as we passed on, 
 
 came that all-pervading, mysterious flood and 
 
 ebb of sound. It was overwhelming to the 
 
 spirit j I felt awed, as if I had unwittingly 
 
 shared a service in some vast, secret temple 
 
 of the gods. It was almost a relief when we 
 
 emerged into the after-glow of the sunset and 
 
 felt that we were again in our own world. 
 
 For some time we were both silent and then 
 
 Tom said softly : 
 
 " I knew you would like it." 
 
 " Why, Oh why did you never bring me 
 here before ? " I asked aggrieved. Tom ignored 
 the question and said : 
 
 " I often come here ; a drive through those 
 woods seems to simplify life." His answer TJiepine 
 
 gave me a vague sensation of unrest, mak- woods 
 
 , , , ,..., - , . . simplify life 
 
 ing me feel anew hew little of his inner 
 
 215 
 
CONFESSIONS TO A HEATHEN IDOL 
 life I was permitted to know. I said with a 
 sigh: 
 
 " I cannot realize that anyone ever passed 
 through those woods before, since the world 
 began. I felt immersed in primeval soli- 
 tude." 
 
 The moon, still a crescent, was hanging 
 against the luminous green of the western hori- 
 zon, as we descended the hill, following a 
 stream in its downward course. The water, 
 turbulent beneath its ice-bonds, was struggling 
 for release. While we listened to its rebel- 
 lious murmur, Tom said : 
 
 " Water is a comforting element, it is so 
 The comfort confoundingly simple in its action ; it flows 
 
 of obeying ^own hill without ever questioning whether 
 the law of 
 
 nature it might not be better to flow up hill instead." 
 
 unquestion- u Yes, its philosophy puts in neither dams 
 ing y nor pumps," I answered sympathetically. 
 
 " I do not believe in a philosophy that 
 thwarts nature's laws for unnatural ends, I'll 
 be hanged if I do," said Tom grimly. Just 
 then a meteor drew a luminous line on the 
 sky, and I said musingly : 
 216 
 
A DEIVE WITH TOM 
 
 " The sky is careless of her stars to-night 
 tossing them down to us through the ether." 
 We were crossing a bridge, and Tom ex- 
 claimed : 
 
 "Yes, look down there in that still pool and 
 see two of them which have just dropped in ; 
 there they are and, by Jove ! they are shining shining up 
 
 as brightly as if they were in the sky." as wett as 
 
 down 
 "It is a fine achievement to be able to shine 
 
 up as well as down, is n't it?" 
 
 "'I guess you know more than I do about 
 that, little girl," said Tom. I cannot quite 
 understand why I so enjoy having Tom call 
 me "little girl," for I am not a girl, neither 
 am I very little ; but when he calls me this I 
 am conscious of a sudden and large increase 
 in my psychic income. 
 
 When we finally reached the city street, I 
 felt as if I had awakened from a dream. As 
 Tom assisted me to alight I said, 
 
 "How can I ever thank you*? " 
 
 "You do not need to," he answered, and I 
 knew it was true. And now while thinking 
 it all over, I am wondering what I have ever 
 217 
 
CONFESSIONS TO A HEATHEN IDOL 
 
 done that I should gain from this world such 
 
 A glimpse of a beautiful experience as I have had this 
 Walhalla 
 
 care for us and give us once in a life-time a 
 glimpse of Walhalla. That expresses it! I 
 feel the same elation that I always experience 
 when I listen to the Walhalla motif, suddenly 
 enfolding in its exquisite harmonies the vast 
 restlessness of the Wagner music. 
 
 218 
 
CHAPTER XIX 
 
 A SKILFUL WOOING 
 
 MARCH IST : My confessor, do you ever 
 feel a nameless terror inspired by the Wind- 
 wind? Just listen to it now howling around worshi P 
 the sharp corners of our gables, shrieking and 
 roaring the while it is trying to lift the scant 
 snow from the hills and deposit it in the valley 
 below ! Look once at the great balsam firs in 
 front of the window bend and stretch out 
 their short arms helplessly to the blast, com- 
 plaining meanwhile in deep sighs ! The wind 
 excites me and makes me afraid. If I were 
 to worship any of the natural forces I should 
 have to be a wind-worshipper. 
 
 I have not been making many confessions of 
 late, have I? The reason is that I do not 
 know what to confess ; and there is so much of 
 perplexity in my daily life that I do not wish 
 to relive it again at night in confessions. 
 219 
 
CONFESSIONS TO A HEATHEN IDOL 
 
 Earely a day goes by without a call or some 
 token from Theodore Morris. These tokens 
 which he sends evince his skill as a wooer. 
 One day it is a bunch of violets or a single 
 rose ; the next, a book of poems or the latest 
 novel ; the next day may bring some witticism 
 clipped from a paper or perhaps a picture cut 
 from a magazine. In some forgotten moment 
 I must have expressed to him my love for 
 trees, and the fascination which felines possess 
 for me, for he is constantly sending me pic- 
 tures of trees, from the pine to the lombardy 
 poplar j and pictures of cats from slinking 
 leopards and snarling tigers to wee pussy-cats. 
 
 His plan seems to be that no day shall go 
 by without bringing me something which 
 shall turn my thoughts toward him. 
 
 As often as twice a week he and Hilda have 
 Music, the played for me delectable music ; music which, 
 only bond j am gi a( j to say, was so superb that it ren- 
 dered me quite oblivious to my devoted 
 virtuoso. So far as I am able to discern, he 
 and Hilda have only one bond holding them 
 together and that is their music. Their con- 
 versation is mostly superficial, mere persiflage. 
 220 
 
A SKILFUL WOOING 
 
 On the other hand he never suffers from her 
 asperities, and there is a fine gravity in his 
 real attitude toward her, which their non- 
 sensical conversation never quite hides. 
 Hilda refuses to tell what she thinks of him ; 
 when I ask her, she says that she has not 
 thought about him, and looks bored. 
 
 The fact which confronts me is that his 
 love-making of late has been of the most We are 
 
 insidious and fascinating kind. I cannot 
 
 carved oy 
 
 reason it out why I find it so fascinating to -heredity 
 be made love to ; my common sense and all 
 the wisdom there is in me say it is utter 
 folly. Ah me ! Long ago I gave up the 
 doctrine of free will j we are marionettes 
 carved by heredity, and we are obliged to 
 dance when circumstances pull the strings. 
 I have evidently inherited my attitude to- 
 ward love-making from all of my feminine 
 ancestors, back to the time of Eve, who varied 
 the monotony of Eden by listening to the 
 flatteries of the serpent. 
 
 It is no more than fair to myself to state 
 that Theodore Morris' power over me is not 
 entirely due to his masterly love-making j he 
 221 
 
CONFESSIONS TO A HEATHEN IDOL 
 
 makes me like Mm without any regard to 
 The subtle what he does or is. His ascendency over me 
 
 force of a was w(m ^ ^e most subtle force I ever en- 
 personality 
 
 countered a force I have not been able to 
 
 analyze or explain. Probably one of its ele- 
 ments comes from the remarkable way he 
 seems to understand me ; he really knows me 
 far better than does father or Joe. It is one 
 of the amazing mysteries of this amazing 
 world that those about us read only certain 
 obvious chapters of our personality, and 
 some stranger discovers the hidden page of 
 which we, ourselves, are scarcely conscious ! 
 Evidently I am an open book to T. M. from 
 preface to appendix ; and it is insidiously 
 The flattery flattering to be so deftly understood. More- 
 
 of being over ^ j s so nov el t o fi n( j a man w h o really 
 understood 
 
 cares to take the trouble to understand a 
 
 woman that it is no wonder I am impressed 
 by the phenomenon. 
 
 Common sense is chiefly valuable as a 
 The active or means of accurate nomenclature ; and my 
 
 passive voice commoll se nse tells me that I am quite as 
 ofamo 
 
 much of an idiot as the maiden in her teens 
 
 who mistakes the passive for the active voice 
 
 222 
 
A SKILFUL WOOING 
 
 in conjugating amo. I am perfectly aware 
 I am taking great pains to go out of my 
 way to make myself trouble ; I am consciously 
 allowing myself to be deflected misery- ward. 
 
 It is shilly-shallying which saps the moral 
 strength. The half-and-half attitude is a The dangers 
 most dangerous one ; strength can be frittered of indecision 
 away much more surely than it can be torn 
 away. I realize all this but it does not seem 
 to help much. 
 
 And all this is happening to me j after all 
 my experience, all my resolves, and all my Every decade 
 
 wisdom which I have been wont to define so we molt our 
 
 , feelings and 
 airily as " knowledge changed into activity." interests 
 
 Keally the death and burial of a person is no 
 more terrifying than this death which comes 
 to us periodically in matters of feeling while 
 we live. We practically suffer reincarna- 
 tion every decade. We grow on and on, like 
 Jack's bean-stalk, until our cotyledons are so 
 far below that we cannot discern their 
 shrunken shapes. Woe is me ! I felicitated 
 myself that after the fortieth mile stone No easy grade 
 
 was passed I should find an easy down-hill on the road of 
 
 experience 
 grade whereon I could safely coast while 
 
 223 
 
CONFESSIONS TO A HEATHEN IDOL, 
 
 enjoying the scenery. But there seems to be 
 no long stretch of experience's road where 
 the slope is in the right direction ! 
 
 MAKCH 2ND : A certain grimness in your 
 Spring smile to-night, My Confessor, leads me to 
 prophecies ^jujr ^ a ^ y OU jnight appreciate a specific 
 confession as to the methods pursued by T. M. 
 when wooing. He came this afternoon and 
 insisted that I go with him for a walk j he de- 
 clared that the snow was melted from the 
 north bank of the river and that it was a 
 prime necessity that we go and examine it. 
 As we followed the river path there was a 
 suggestion of spring in the " phoebe " song of 
 the chickadee, and the trill which a nuthatch 
 had substituted for his usual nasal monosylla- 
 ble. Notwithstanding the scene was all that 
 he had promised, mi-lord was gloomy and 
 silent j he is always silent when he does not 
 feel like speaking, but there was in his silence 
 this afternoon something which suggested 
 anew that his ways were devious ; and as usual 
 this deviousness was a temptation to me. It 
 is always a danger to me not to know just 
 224 
 
" But there seems to be no long stretch of experience's road where 
 the slope is in the right direction ! " 
 
A SKILFUL WOOING 
 
 where I am in any particular experience; 
 
 it goads me on to desperate deeds to relieve Maddening 
 
 the uncertainty. I imagine that woman's uncertaint y 
 
 most reprehensible acts have often been the 
 
 results of maddening uncertainty. This may 
 
 account for what I said, since nothing else 
 
 can. 
 
 " Why are you so silent and gloomy ? " I 
 asked in tones as tender as if they had been 
 parboiled. 
 
 " 'T is the silence of happiness my lady," 
 he responded while the line between his eyes 
 deepened. 
 
 " Nonsense ! You are not conscious of me 
 at all ; you are simply and obviously con- 
 scious of yourself and your own thoughts." 
 
 " How can I tell, since the consciousness of A pretty 
 you is almost self-consciousness," he answered s P eech 
 musingly. 
 
 " That is a pretty speech but not very con- 
 vincing." 
 
 " I did not expect you to believe it ; I 
 offered it for your inspection as a single ray 
 taken from the halo which you have thrown 
 around my thoughts." 
 
 225 
 
CONFESSIONS TO A HEATHEN IDOL 
 
 " You are hopelessly blind, did you know 
 it?' 7 
 
 "Yea, verily," he answered, "I cannot see 
 Glamour- clearly because my eyes are dimmed with the 
 glamour of happiness to come." Then his 
 mood changed suddenly and he became an 
 intensely conscious part of the world about 
 us j he whistled the chickadee song until we 
 were followed by the beguiled titmouse. Once 
 he placed his hand suddenly on mine to stay 
 my steps while we listened to a woodpecker 
 sounding his roll on the dead branch of a 
 hickory just in front of us ; incidentally, he 
 did not let go of my hand until I took it 
 The writing away. We climbed the bank, following the 
 
 ly the brook- course o f a brook beset with fascinating tracks 
 side 
 
 of beasties along its snowy rim, and my com- 
 panion turned hunter and resolved these trails 
 into those made by squirrel, mouse and bunny. 
 The day grew sombre suddenly $ as we at- 
 tained a sightly point we beheld the clouds in 
 gray billows hung low over hills forebodingly 
 blue ; then for a moment the sun appeared 
 again and sent adrift down the valley a few 
 stray rays of sunlight which, in passing, 
 226 
 
A SKILFUL WOOING 
 
 touched the purple forests into golden, the 
 
 snow to silver and the winding river to bur- A usurped 
 
 nished bronze. "We found a dry stump all t 
 
 flounced and furbelowed with fungi which he 
 
 declared was a Druid throne and which I at 
 
 once usurped. 
 
 "No queen was ever so satisfied with her 
 kingdom as I with this/' I averred, pointing 
 to the valley under its changing hues. 
 
 "You have come into only a small part of 
 your kingdom, dear queen j the rest is wait- 
 ing, are you never coming to claim it?" These 
 words were uttered in a passionate whisper as 
 he drew close to me, and for one brief moment 
 I saw what seemed desperation in those un- 
 fathomable eyes. Confessor, no one but you A perilous 
 shall ever know how near I came to saying at moment 
 that moment just two words, "I come." The 
 situation demanded it, and I longed to know 
 what would really happen if I said them ; but 
 some remnant of common sense restrained my 
 dramatic curiosity and saved me. 
 
 "No use ! " I sighed. "I could not find a 
 competent chancellor of the exchequer j be- 
 sides, it would be such a task to decide what 
 227 
 
CONFESSIONS TO A HEATHEN IDOL 
 
 style of crown would be most becoming to 
 me." 
 
 "You are frivolous, my lady, horribly frivo- 
 lous.-- 
 
 "Do you not suppose that the boundaries of 
 The question her kingdom are of less importance to any 
 
 of crown- q ueen than the becomingness of her crown ? " 
 jewels 
 
 I demanded indignantly ; then I asked with 
 
 mock impressiveness, "What jewels would you 
 really advise for my crown, dewdrops or snow 
 crystals?" 
 
 "Opals, my lady, surely opals above all 
 others." 
 
 "Why, pray?" 
 
 The opal "The opal epitomizes love it is always the 
 typifies love same? an( j ve t nev er quite the same." 
 
 "For instance?" 
 
 "One moment it is pale and pure, the next 
 it is green and restful, then blue and deep 
 and then purple and rich. It flashes for a 
 moment with the yellow rays of happiness the 
 while it hides in its depths the red glow of 
 human passion, and the topaz glitter of jeal- 
 ousy. It is changeful and abiding, perhaps 
 abiding because changeful." He said this 
 228 
 
A SKILFUL WOOING 
 
 slowly and impersonally while looking at a 
 magnificent opal set in the ring on his third 
 finger. It was an interesting interpretation 
 of the stone, but I thought a change in the 
 tenor of the conversation desirable. 
 
 "On the whole, I think I prefer the red 
 feathers which crown yonder woodpecker; 
 they would surely be becoming and would not 
 weigh down the royal head," I exclaimed 
 gayly, as I abdicated my throne and turned 
 my steps homeward. Again he became silent 
 and moody, striding along at my side as if he 
 were going to war instead of rambling for 
 pleasure. I began to chatter ; 
 
 "A walk like this makes for freedom from 
 carking care. I have quite forgotten how des- The crowded 
 
 perately busy I was this morning, and how my moments 
 
 march 
 moments marched lockstep, each jostling the 
 
 one ahead in a most trying and rude manner. 
 I should like my moments to be polite and 
 courteous to each other ; I should rather have 
 them dance grave minuets than mad jigs." 
 
 "As the moment is bent, the day is inclined," 
 he muttered. 
 
 " Yes, I sometimes believe that with all my 
 229 
 
CONFESSIONS TO A HEATHEN IDOL 
 
 hurry and worry I shall be reduced to a mere 
 wraith, transparent and impalpable." 
 
 " Never fear, my lady, you will remain 
 The security opaque for some time yet," he interrupted 
 of opacity with evident irritation. 
 
 " Thanks," I murmured fervently. 
 
 When we arrived home I invited him to 
 stay to dinner and he accepted without 
 enthusiasm. Later Hilda came and the 
 evening was made rapturous with their music. 
 Except when playing, Mr. Morris was obviously 
 gloomy during the entire evening 5 and Hilda 
 was quiet and wholly uninteresting. 
 
 I cannot say that I am really any farther 
 Kismet along the fatal path I am treading than I was 
 this morning, and yet I feel that I am. A 
 new comprehension of the word " kismet " is 
 coming to me. I suppose a trout hooked 
 securely to a long line made fast to a beauti- 
 ful, flexible bamboo rod says to itself " This is 
 nothing, I shall soon get away ! " and there- 
 upon makes sundry wild rushes this way and 
 that and later, when it is lifted flopping into 
 the net, it might, if it could speak, give a brand- 
 new definition to that queer word kismet. 
 230 
 
A SKILFUL WOOING 
 MARCH 15TH .-Nearly two weeks since I 
 confessed, is n't it ? Well, though it has been 
 a tempestuous March, my path has been 
 strewn with the blossoms of narcissus and I 
 am drunk with their fragrance. 
 
 It seems to me that of late there is a veil 
 hung between Hilda and myself. We see Gambling 
 each other often, and we talk as usual, and yet with 
 there is always present somewhat of con- 
 straint. It may be that my attitude toward 
 my own affairs is responsible for it. I would 
 gladly turn to Hilda for advice in solving my 
 most perplexing problem, only at bottom I 
 know that I desire neither help nor advice. 
 I am playing fan-tan with destiny and I will 
 play it alone. Besides, I could not endure 
 Hilda's scathing criticism of my folly. I 
 believe if she and T. M. were better friends I 
 should feel more like confiding the question 
 to her 5 but they seem strangers to each other 
 except when playing together. One might 
 think that music would limber their recipro- 
 cal indifference, but music land is far from 
 this world and has little to do with it. 
 
 231 
 
CHAPTER XX 
 
 A NICE AFTERNOON. LOVE'S INITIATION FEE 
 
 M 
 
 "ARCH 16TH: Such a delightful after- 
 noon ! Hilda and I were sewing 
 comfortably before the fire when Ma Belle 
 came in. She has been having a most trying 
 experience with a sister-in-law who is always 
 in trouble and always asking for advice which 
 she never by any chance follows. To-day 
 Ma Belle evidently came to me for comfort, 
 for she was obviously downcast when she 
 came in. 
 
 " What new misfortune has come to Aunt 
 Emma," I asked. 
 
 " She never has new misfortunes," averred 
 
 inherent Ma Belle, " her misfortunes are inherent and 
 
 misfortunes were born with her, being a part and parcel 
 
 232 
 
A NICE AFTERNOON 
 
 of her permanent condition. She is like a 
 sore thumb ; every time anything in her 
 vicinity moves she gets a whack." 
 
 " She always seems meekness personified,' 7 
 said Hilda." 
 
 " That is one of her vices," declared ma 
 mere. u I get irritable in the presence of Her cross, a 
 
 that self-effacing attitude. The more she a P n f 
 
 offence 
 
 effaces herself, the more aggressive she really 
 is. Instead of bearing her cross she uses it as 
 a weapon of offence, batting every one with it 
 who is unlucky enough to be in her proximity. 
 Her warped judgment and twisted ideals are 
 the result of her belief in her own meekness. The fatal 
 
 Whatever she does she knows is right. Great eddies in the 
 
 wake of action 
 heavens ! It almost comforts me for never 
 
 doing what I know is right." 
 
 " I never thought Aunt Emma sufficiently 
 decisive to be even self-complacent," said I 
 with a smile. 
 
 " Oh, she is n't decisive," groaned Ma Belle, 
 " she is always flopping around in the etcetera 
 of events." 
 
 " As for that," I argued with a guilty 
 conscience, "it is astonishing how little of 
 233 
 
CONFESSIONS TO A HEATHEN IDOL 
 
 good or ill any of us do under the stress of 
 decisive action, and how much of both we do 
 when drifting around in the currents set up 
 by such action." 
 
 " I see plainly that Aunt Emma is likely to 
 be the origin of a philosophy," laughed Hilda. 
 
 " Let 's not argue j I came here to be 
 soothed and to receive sympathy and support," 
 said Ma Belle with a long and deep sigh. 
 
 "Please hem this napkin for me," said I, 
 Plain sewing "there is nothing so soothing to lacerated 
 cmg feminine nerves as nice plain sewing ; it is 
 like smoking for calming masculine ner- 
 vousness." Ma Belle smiled and seated her- 
 self comfortably to her task. 
 
 "We have reason to be thankful that when 
 the recording angel scores he does not have to 
 bother with the whys and wherefores ; this is 
 no more than fair since our virtuous deeds 
 are quite as often the results of accident as 
 are our sins," said I after we had been sewing 
 in silence for some time. 
 Virtues "Listen to my aphorism : My sins are inci- 
 
 acddental, fl en |- a i ^o my virtues, and my virtues are 
 
 sins 
 
 incidental mostly accidental to my sins ! " declared 
 Hilda grandly. 
 
 234 
 
A NICE AFTEBNOON 
 
 "That sounds impressive," said Ma Belle, 
 "but I never shall be reconciled to the waste- The glut of 
 
 ful plan of this universe. We all live and ready-made 
 
 experience 
 store up experience for nothing apparently 
 
 since those we would guide will have none of 
 it, and we mostly attain it too late to make 
 it of much use to ourselves. Why must each 
 one experience all things for himself as if 
 there were not a world full of ready-made 
 experience waiting for him f " 
 
 "It is necessary in order to develop indi 
 viduality," I ventured tritely. 
 
 "Oh, I am tired of this modern plea for the 
 individual," Ma Belle exclaimed vindictively. The 
 "When stripped of sophistry it means that 
 the individual has the right to follow every gence 
 selfish desire and investigate every temptation 
 to get out of it all there is in it for him. That 
 is what most people mean when they declare 
 they are following the ideals of Goethe and 
 Browning (and for which they ought to be The 
 
 sued for libel). Such people seem to think 
 
 needs prun- 
 that the individual ought to be developed in ing rat h er 
 
 every way except along the line of responsi- than develop- 
 
 Wld 
 
 bility to others. An individuality does not 
 235 
 
CONFESSIONS TO A HEATHEN IDOL 
 
 need developing, it needs trimming down so 
 that it will fit other individuals instead of 
 impaling them." 
 
 "Happy thought ! " cried Hilda, "each of 
 us trimmed down to a hexagon so we fit like 
 the cells of a honeycomb. But, Mrs. Lee, 
 where would the fun come in ? " 
 
 "Freedom from moral and physical restraint 
 
 A new is not what you are pleased to call <fun, 7 " 
 definition of argued ma m ^ It ^ only by being in bond . 
 
 age to all sorts of restraints that we may even 
 recognize l fun ' when we meet it. License is 
 not ' fun/ but dodging our inevitable responsi- 
 bilities is glorious l fun 7 ; that 's why I am en- 
 joying you two sirens here when I ought to 
 be visiting with Emma." 
 
 "Fun is the nap we steal after the rising 
 bell rings," said Hilda appreciatively. Ma 
 Belle continued : 
 
 "Being good is not ' fun J ; neither is being 
 
 The rapture bad ' fun ' j but trying to be good and being 
 
 of the broken^ bad without trying solves the fun pro blem 
 
 for ever and ever. Freedom is tiresome and 
 commonplace j 7 t is the broken link in the 
 chain of bondage which is rapture." 
 236 
 
A NICE AFTERNOON 
 
 " Ma Belle, I am convinced you have done 
 some great and good thing for Aunt Emma. 
 It is always a sign you have been busy with 
 good works when you make cynical remarks," 
 I declared with emphasis. 
 
 "I have to get even some way/' she 
 answered with a smile that to me is the most 
 beautiful smile in the world. "Truth com- 
 pels me to state that I did have an interview 
 with Emma this morning wherein I gently 
 but firmly called her attention to some large 
 facts. She is so concerned with the pebbles 
 in her path that she gives no attention to the 
 boulders until they block her way and then 
 she sulks and feels abused. I have been 
 dreading this interview for a week." 
 
 " I have often meditated upon the fit 
 moment psychologically for doing a dis- Tliefit 
 
 agreeable thing remarked Hilda musingly. mo ^^fo 
 
 a dreaded 
 "If it is done at once it costs a terrible wrench 
 
 to the feelings and great moral effort, and 
 when done scarcely affords the relief it might 
 if it had been dreaded for a longer period. 
 On the other hand, if it is not done until the 
 last possible moment one gets so in the habit 
 237 
 
CONFESSIONS TO A HEATHEN IDOL 
 
 of dreading it that the feeling persists long 
 after. There must be a right time some- 
 where between the two extremes." 
 
 "It requires rare judgment to elect the 
 moment ; there are no compensations at any 
 time. 'Must ' is master and no reward offered," 
 rejoined Ma Belle crisply. 
 
 "If I were to start life anew, I should never 
 do a disagreeable thing, nor experience a dis- 
 agreeable sensation if I could help it," I de- 
 clared with positiveness. 
 
 "A flabbiness would result which would 
 make your present weak amiability seem like 
 cast iron," said Hilda. 
 
 "Try it once : just scrupulously avoid all 
 The placid the ' have to's ' and likewise the 'want to's > and 
 
 space lying sai j a i on g placidly in the easy current which 
 
 between 
 tt h ave to winds between these outer and inner man- 
 
 and"want dates. This would be far better than the 
 periodical re-ossification of the vertebral col- 
 umn which you practice so strenuously," said I. 
 "Marian, you are mistaken ; Hilda never 
 needs such refurbishing," suggested Ma Belle, 
 with a smile. 
 
 "Little do you know about it, Mrs. Lee j 1 
 238 
 
A NICE AFTERNOON 
 
 need it this minute. You would both be hor- 
 rified if you knew how weak and wabbly I 
 really am," answered Hilda, soberly. 
 
 Just then the daily token from Mr. Morris 
 appeared in the guise of a bunch of violets. Malapropos 
 Though I experienced the most painful embar- vtolet8 
 rassment, I was on guard and quite uncon- 
 cernedly placed them in a vase on the table, 
 saying as I did so : 
 
 "That confession of yours, Hilda, affords 
 me supreme comfort." Ma Belle picked up 
 the card that came with the violets and re- 
 marked : 
 
 "It seems to me, Marian, that this young 
 man is a most devoted admirer of yours." I 
 looked straight into her eyes and think she 
 understood me a little when I said, "He is 
 here at the house so much with Joe that I 
 suppose he thinks it good form to be espe- 
 cially polite to his hostess." She answered 
 with a laugh : 
 
 "I was trying to tease you, Marian j your 
 accessibility has always been a source of Squatter 
 amusement to me. You are like government sover *ignty 
 land : all that anyone has to do who desires 
 239 
 
CONFESSIONS TO A HEATHEN IDOL 
 
 you for a friend is to come along and stake 
 out his claim." 
 
 " That is true," I admitted with some 
 asperity, "and I occasionally experience a 
 squatter." 
 
 Hilda to the "I think Mr. Morris would feel greatly 
 rescue complimented if he could hear this conver- 
 sation," said Hilda, with pronounced sarcasm. 
 
 "It is my private opinion, Hilda," I 
 answered dryly, "that he would not care a rap 
 about this conversation or any other of which 
 he was the chief topic. In all my life I have 
 never before met a youth who is so little 
 affected by things outside of himself as is this 
 same Theodore Morris. He pursues his own 
 path, fixedly and undeviating in a way that 
 is appalling to witness." 
 
 "It seems to me from the little I know of 
 him that he is quite justified in so doing," 
 declared Hilda, belligerently. I was surprised, 
 and I think Ma Belle was also a little startled ; 
 but I cannot hide from myself that I was 
 gratified as well as surprised. In thinking 
 the matter over I am at loss to know to what 
 to attribute this defense of Hilda's j but sooner 
 240 
 
LOVE'S INITIATION FEE 
 
 or later I shall discover the reason for it. 
 People tell me that my instincts and intui- Intuition or 
 tions are marvelously correct, and I never * gm 
 dispute them. But, Own Idol, I can tell you 
 that I have n't in my possession an instinct or 
 an intuition worthy the name. I am simply 
 quick to observe, and I bring what I observe 
 before the eyes of judgment, and finally reach 
 conclusions which are. correct, unless they 
 concern myself. I have no judgment what- 
 ever in assorting and defining tlje facts I 
 discover about myself. I have always sailed 
 under sealed orders ; and to-night it seems to 
 me that these orders were taken from the 
 grab-bag of the Parcse sisters. 
 
 MARCH I?TH : Do you know that we really 
 
 never get to understand people unless we have Love, the 
 
 a chance to see how they act under the strain P restidi v ita >- 
 
 tor 
 and stress of a love affair ? And even then 
 
 we understand but little. I have ever been a 
 close student of Joe all his life, and I under- 
 stand him and his motives and his emotions 
 absolutely ; and yet now that he is in love he 
 seems like a stranger to me. On his affec- 
 241 
 
CONFESSIONS TO A HEATHEN IDOL 
 
 tionate side lie has always been sweet, gentle 
 and leadable ; now that he loves a woman 
 I find him harsh and almost cruel in his 
 attitude toward her. 
 
 Last evening after he came home from the 
 Joe in the opera whither he escorted Dolly Pease, he 
 tmls confessed to me his love for Millie Van Tyne. 
 I was somewhat surprised, for if Joe and 
 Millie love each other the fact has not been 
 apparent to the eye of the public. It is true 
 that they quarrel almost constantly, but 
 quarreling is by no means synonymous with 
 loving. Joe has thought he was in love at 
 least twice before, but in each case it was a 
 gentle and sentimental relationship, with 
 none of the pepper and spice in it which 
 seems to have characterized this affair with 
 Millie. So when he told me his feelings I ex- 
 pressed my surprise by saying : 
 
 " If you are in love with Millie, what in 
 the world are- you taking Dolly to the opera 
 for?" 
 
 " It is a good thing for a girl who thinks 
 she is the only pebble on your beach to learn 
 that there may be yet other pebbles," he an- 
 swered with a superior air. 
 242 
 
LOVE'S INITIATION FEE 
 
 " True/' agreed I, " that is the proper 
 treatment for girls ; it keeps them from The proper 
 tossing their heads in premature pride and tre ^ tment for 
 spilling their milk like the milk-maid of * ai 
 whom our ancestors were wont to read in their 
 spelling books." 
 
 " I do not know much about milk-maids 
 but I know a few things about fair maids ; in 
 fact, one or two of them have taught me 
 lessons which I trust I do not need to learn 
 twice ; " he answered morosely. 
 
 " Well, my dear," said I, " I am glad to see 
 that you have not lost your head even if you 
 have lost your heart. But I must confess I 
 shall have more faith in your love for Millie 
 when you become a little more humble in 
 spirit." 
 
 " I shall never be humble with her ! Why, 
 Marnie, when she teases me and quarrels with Ttie method of 
 me as she so constantly does I feel like putting l ^^ f 
 both arms around her and crushing the life 
 out of her to punish her and make her keep 
 still." 
 
 " I am not sure but your instinct is right," 
 I admitted, " she is a girl who needs heroic 
 treatment." 
 
 243 
 
CONFESSIONS TO A HEATHEN IDOL 
 
 " She is going to get it," he replied curtly, 
 and his beautiful finely chiselled lips set in 
 a hard straight line which, at once, made me 
 Millie's stanch ally. I hope she will lead 
 him a breathless chase and bring him to his 
 knees in the end. I know what is good for 
 him even if he is my own boy. 
 
 MARCH 18TH : By the way, Uncurious 
 
 Pardonable One, I wonder if you know that ever since 
 
 curiosity T Morris to ia me so calmly that he had had 
 
 many love affairs, I have always wished to 
 know the particulars. Not that I care about 
 the persons concerned, or the stories thereof, 
 but I am dying of curiosity to know just 
 what he would say about these experiences. 
 I am not so naive as to ask him to talk about 
 them, but several times I have made it per- 
 fectly easy for him to do so, by alluding 
 rather teasingly to his frittered affections. 
 But the effectual way he puts up the sign, 
 " No trespass," is only equalled by the way he 
 No avoids trespassing on my own preserves. 
 trespassing M a yk e h e believes that at my age there is no 
 grass left because of the many foot paths 
 244 
 
LOVE'S INITIATION FEE 
 
 through it j it would be just like his callow 
 superciliousness to think so. This may all be 
 enigmatical to you, Mr. Idol, but it is quite 
 luminous with meaning to me. 
 
 245 
 
CHAPTER XXI 
 
 SACK-CLOTH AND ASHES 
 
 "ARCH 24TH : If I did not have you, 
 I would naturally confess to the flames 
 Flame which lap up the offerings of wood which I 
 fascination pj ace nightly upon my hearth. I wonder if 
 it is the darting fire-tongues which hold me 
 spellbound while life and its perplexities ebb 
 away, leaving nothing thinkable or dreamable 
 in their place, or is it something more subtle ? 
 Time thus spent is not measured by moments 
 nor hours nor even by eternity. It comes 
 nearer Nirvana than anything else vouch- 
 safed to us mortals of the Occident. 
 
 I have spent such an evening alone before 
 Upsetting the my fire and have just watched the embers turn 
 temper-box f rom glow to gray. It has been the only 
 happy part of my day. I have been ill and 
 not very patient, any little annoyance up- 
 setting my temper-box and giving my en- 
 246 
 
SACK-CLOTH AND ASHES 
 
 viromnent a hot sprinkle. Duties undone 
 
 the letters I ought to have written, the work The neurotic 
 
 I ought to have accomplished, the word I Ori 9 in f 
 
 conscience 
 ought to have said, the deeds I ought to have 
 
 performed, all of these have hung over me 
 to-day like a black cloud, shutting out all 
 vision of blue sky. Yet my sins of omission 
 are no greater to-day than they were last 
 week when I was serene and cheerful. There 
 is a weird connection between con- 
 science and disordered nerves that makes the 
 outlook for the origin of conscience rather 
 dubious. 
 
 I realize I have been mighty inhospitable 
 in spirit of late toward the world at large ; I Ashes mis- 
 have ceased to be an organ with the vox 
 humana stop in working order ; although it is 
 true that I have treated most people around 
 me with a decency becoming to that arch- 
 hypocrite, the altruist. So I have been 
 indulging in sack-cloth and ashes as is fitting 
 for a sinner in Lent ; and I feel that I shall 
 adopt a permanent costume of sack-cloth 
 and a permanent diet of ashes. Please do not 
 interrupt me by stating that ashes are not 
 247 
 
CONFESSIONS TO A HEATHEN IDOL 
 
 for eating ; it matters not whether they are 
 for outer or inner application. I know the 
 taste of ashes perfectly, and I also know 
 where the sack -cloth abrades the flesh. 
 
 Ma Belle is out of town, and Hilda has 
 
 Inconsistent given me but brief moments of light during 
 
 longings the long four days of my niness. The house, 
 
 except this my own room, is overflowing with 
 the flowers which Theodore Morris has sent. 
 I would have none of them in sight ; I felt 
 too cross to look at them. I have longed for 
 some sign of sympathy from another source 
 and have been cast down and miserable be- 
 cause I did not get it. It is strange how our 
 longings of the moment distort our perspec- 
 tive. I ought to be glad that this sign has 
 been denied me, considering the port to which 
 I am drifting. 
 
 MARCH 25TH : I have felt very much better 
 to-day and took luncheon with the family. 
 But when Mr. Morris called, I sent word that 
 I was not able to see him 5 the bouquet of 
 sweet peas in front of your tiny feet was his 
 response. 
 
 248 
 
SACK-CLOTH AND ASHES 
 
 Late in the afternoon Tom called. I 
 meditated on the question as to whether I A difference 
 ought to go down at all ; and if I did conclude in tke treat ~ 
 
 ment of 
 
 to go whether I should wear the black robe catters 
 I had on or don a new lavender tea-gown of 
 a most beguiling pattern. Then I called my- 
 self an idiot, and snatching a few pink pea 
 blossoms for the throat of my gown, I hurried 
 down stairs. Tom came forward to meet me 
 and said quite anxiously : 
 
 "I did not know you had been ill until 
 an hour ago." 
 
 "I have been ill for months," I asserted 
 reproachfully. "I have been so ill that I even Obsequies 
 went so far as to plan my own funeral, and worse than 
 that is far worse than dying. I can think of 
 confronting my recording angel with equani- 
 mity, and of my possible or even probable 
 future state with composure ; but when I 
 contemplate my own funeral, my heart quails. 
 And this time one of the poignant discom- 
 forts of the situation was that you would 
 probably learn of the obsequies first through 
 the daily paper." 
 
 "The moral of which is?" 
 249 
 
CONFESSIONS TO A HEATHEN IDOL 
 
 "That yon stay away from your friends too 
 much." 
 
 "I have been so confoundedly busy of late 
 Rude treat- that I stand George Washington on his head 
 
 mentfor the ever y time I put a stamp on an envelope. I 
 
 Father of 
 his country am in sucn a hurry, a summary treatment 
 
 which makes him obviously red in the face," 
 answered Tom with an apologetic laugh ; then 
 he continued, soberly, "By Jove ! it is awful 
 the way this inevitable old world works itself 
 in between friends with its wedges of work 
 and care, driving them in by the impact of 
 busy hours." 
 
 "Yes, and there is a certain expedient in- 
 difference that comes between friends which 
 is unnatural and horrible like some monster 
 with gnarled, twisted limbs and leer-eyed." 
 
 "So long as it is not green-eyed we need 
 not fear," answered he with a laugh. 
 
 "You are mistaken, sir, the green-eyed 
 The green- monster is far less to be feared, for it is never 
 
 eyed com- bom of indifference." 
 pared with 
 
 other "You make me feel complimented by im- 
 
 monsters plying that you have missed me." 
 
 "Why should n't I miss you? " I asked with 
 250 
 
SACK-CLOTH AND ASHES 
 
 asperity. " Ma Belle is away, Hilda is busy, 
 and Joe and father are here only at meals, 
 and you have shown no sign that you were 
 aware of my existence. I have felt abused 
 and lonesome.' 7 
 
 "I met a beautiful young man turning his 
 steps hither this afternoon," he said teasingly. 
 
 " Then you have seen more than I have," 
 I returned boldly, " for no beautiful young 
 man has crossed my range of vision." 
 
 " His flowers had better luck than he, 
 then," quoth Tom, significantly glancing at 
 my sweet peas. 
 
 " Because I hastily adorned myself with the 
 nearest thing at hand so I should not look so The way of a 
 
 much like a disturbed ghost when I came woman with 
 
 flowers 
 down to see you, please do not make me feel 
 
 foolish," said I, slipping out of the corner into 
 which he had pushed me. 
 
 " Cruel woman, to wear one man's flowers 
 to make yourself beautiful in another man's 
 eyes ! " 
 
 " True, the ways of a woman with flowers 
 be strange ! Oh, please stop teasing, and let J s 
 talk about things that are worth while." 
 251 
 
CONFESSIONS TO A HEATHEN IDOL 
 
 " I saw a ' glue bird and a wobbin ' 
 to-day/' he quoted. 
 
 " Tell me where and what they were 
 doing." 
 
 " The blue bird was singing a querly note 
 
 Things worth from the apple tree and the robin was dancing 
 
 w **k a glide on the lawn. And it is time you were 
 
 well and went walking with me to the woods 
 
 on South Hill to find if any hepaticas have 
 
 dared yet to lift their heads." 
 
 And then we had a real and happy visit, 
 and I was greatly cheered by it, and am not a 
 bit ashamed to own it. 
 
 APRIL TTH : It is two weeks since I told you 
 A fugue things, is n't it? The fact is, I am so per- 
 
 instead of plexed t b at j nad ra ther forget than confess. 
 a symphony 
 
 My self -song has become a theme for a fugue 
 
 when I long to have it made into a symphony ; 
 it simply repeats over and over with infinite 
 variations the same tedious questions. 
 
 Too much of my time is given to T. M. 
 
 He comes and I do not know how to send him 
 
 away or else I do not wish to. He often 
 
 makes violent love to me, but almost as often 
 
 252 
 
SACK-CLOTH AND ASHES 
 
 sits wrapped in gloom like an invisible cloak. 
 Occasionally I have sane moments and see Wings or 
 things as they are. Methinks Titania now ears 
 and then must have gotten a distinct view of 
 Bottom's ears ; and in her heart of hearts must 
 have acknowledged that they were bona fide 
 ears ; and even thinking of how long and silky 
 they were did not entirely reassure her. 
 Alas, that I, too, should be studying ears and 
 trying to make them seem like wings ! 
 
 253 
 
A 1 
 
 CHAPTER XXII 
 
 THE SPRINGTIME MADNESS 
 
 PRIL 10TH : Do you realize that spring 
 has come ? Do your innermost teak 
 The spring particles vibrate to the sounds of revivified 
 
 song of the k e j n g f There is a peculiar unction to the 
 trolley 
 
 uproll of your eyes which leads me to infer 
 
 that you, like the rest of us, are ready to stop 
 existing and begin living. Tom came this 
 afternoon to take me for the promised 
 tramp for hepaticas. As he came in, he 
 found father and myself on the porch in a 
 sunny corner and he greeted us with : 
 
 " It is so obviously and enthusiastically 
 spring time to-day that I have had to exert self- 
 control to keep from drinking the bottle of 
 green ink on my desk. Even the trolley is 
 singing a spring song, just listen to it ! " 
 
 " I never suspected a trolley car of senti- 
 ment before," said father. 
 254 
 
THE SPRINGTIME MADNESS 
 
 " Which goes to prove that we are likely 
 to misunderstand our nearest neighbors and 
 most familiar associates," I suggested. 
 
 " I, too, have succumbed to the day," 
 admitted father shame-facedly. " I went this More spring 
 morning and purchased some implements madnSS 
 which look like agricultural tools afflicted 
 with paresis, and as soon as I can recovei 
 from the self-consciousness induced by the 
 purchase I shall hie me hence and learn to 
 play golf." 
 
 " It is the spring madness ! There is no 
 foretelling what form it may take !" rejoined 
 Tom comfortingly. Then, turning to me, 
 " Madam Marian, there are some pinky posies 
 on the south exposure of South Hill, come 
 and help me pick them." 
 
 We left father to the rueful contemplation 
 of his new enterprise and were soon beyond 
 the bounds of our little city. As we climbed 
 the fence which separates the pasture from 
 the woodland, Tom said : 
 
 " Jove ! Listen to that robin once. Are n't 
 his remarks pat <? " A robin ' s 
 
 " What does he say t " 
 255 
 
CONFESSIONS TO A HEATHEN IDOL 
 
 " Are you deaf, Marian ? Does lie not say 
 plainly, ( Here you are, here you are, sweet, 
 sweet, sweet.' I don't wonder the little 
 beggar blushes." 
 
 "That is a polite translation of yours," I an- 
 swered gayly, "and it is true, too, for here we 
 are and it is surely sweet," and I stooped to 
 pluck the downy stem of a hepatica blossom. 
 
 "Why don't the sculptors use hepatica 
 The Hepatica leaves for their cornices and capitals!" asked 
 
 instead of the T picking one of the purple-brown leaves. 
 Acanthus 
 
 "I never touch the soft stem of this posy 
 
 without thinking of baby fingers," I answered 
 irrelevantly. 
 
 "And you have never ceased to mourn her 
 loss during all these years ! " Tom stood on a 
 knoll looking down at me wistfully as he asked 
 this question j meanwhile the robin sang 
 "sweet, sweet, sweet." 
 
 "I have always missed her and have al- 
 ways loved her," I answered steadily. 
 
 "You have always been a spendthrift of 
 
 A spendthrift love. Have you no fears of being beggared ? " 
 
 of love Then without waiting for a reply he went on : 
 
 "God ! what hostages we have to give if we 
 
 256 
 
THE SPKINGTIME MADNESS 
 
 truly live. I often wonder how we dare to 
 love at all." 
 
 "Loving is not based upon daring," I re- 
 monstrated. 
 
 "Sometimes it is," lie muttered. 
 
 "Love is worth all it costs," I said firmly. 
 
 "You are brave to say so. We set our little 
 lights upon the hill, but how little we shine 
 compared with what we suffer." 
 
 "And yet there are those who believe that 
 suffering may be conserved in shining ! But The radiant 
 we came out to be happy and care free, and ener oy f 
 
 suffering 
 
 here we are roiling up the deeps. Queer, 
 is n't it, how conquered emotions have recru- 
 descence on the most malapropos occasions? " 
 "Good Heaven, yes ! And when one goes on 
 year after year with eyes always blinded by 
 the smoke of battle, it is rather appalling to 
 contemplate the number and variety of sub- 
 dued emotions which are likely to haunt one's 
 path. The other night after hearing that 
 tragedy so superbly played, I thought how 
 terrible and tragic on the stage are sin and 
 death and the aching heart, and how trivial 
 and commonplace they are in real life." 
 257 
 
CONFESSIONS TO A HEATHEN IDOL 
 
 "It is because on the stage we see them in 
 Seal life not true perspective ; but while living them we 
 
 properly h our through blindly, feeling all, but 
 staged 
 
 seeing and understanding only a little of the 
 
 deeper relation of our experience to the moral 
 world. We are at too close range for true 
 perspective. Ah, here is a crimson cup ! " I 
 exclaimed, as I lifted from its bed of leaves a 
 decayed branch which bore a delicate flesh- 
 A fairy colored crimson-lined peziza cup. "I never 
 beaker G0l ^^ ^ e ma a e to believe that this is a fungus ; 
 I still hold my childish belief that it is a fairy 
 beaker. I promise you if you will drink from 
 this you will experience enchantment." 
 
 "I am too old for enchantment," he de- 
 murred. 
 
 "You are not too old ! " I asserted indig- 
 nantly. 
 
 "I am getting to be reverend in spots," he 
 maintained. 
 
 "They are so few and far between they do 
 not affect the ensemble," I declared, and thus 
 our talk drifted to trivialities as we turned 
 our steps homeward with our treasures from 
 woodland. 
 
 258 
 
'* Confessor, I wish I knew whether it is something or nothing that 
 I sometimes see in Tom's eyes " 
 
THE SPRINGTIME MADNESS 
 
 Confessor, I wish I knew whether it is 
 something or nothing that I sometimes see in Something or 
 Tom's eyes. If it is something, it is tanta- nothin 9 
 lizingly elusive ; if it is nothing, I have wasted 
 too much time trying to make something 
 of it. Life would indeed be dull without 
 enigmas, and this one is likely to remain a 
 perennial source of interest. 
 
 259 
 
CHAPTEE XXIII 
 
 THE IMPATIENCE OF MR. MORRIS LEADS TO 
 A CHANGE IN CONFESSORS 
 
 M 
 
 AY 25TH : I have been sitting in the 
 window-seat for an hour, listening to 
 Some things the flood of waters in the ravine. The mur- 
 unlike water mur Qf flowi water affects me differently at 
 cannot go on 
 
 forever different times. Sometimes I could worship 
 
 water because it flows on forever, and some- 
 times I hate it because it flows on forever. 
 
 One thing is borne in upon me at the pres- 
 ent moment, and that is I cannot go on for- 
 ever with Theodore Morris as I have been 
 going on of late. I must decide soon ; and 
 I am much farther from a decision than I 
 was on that highly entertaining evening 
 after the opera, when he declared his unsus- 
 pected and undesired love. The fact that I 
 am so much farther away from a decision is 
 260 
 
A CHANGE IN CONFESSORS 
 
 what alarms me. It shows how far I have 
 been swept beyond the right landing by the 
 current of his will and desire. 
 
 He seems to have changed greatly during 
 the past two months. From being calm and A melancholy 
 superior, he has become moody, taciturn and in fl unce 
 gloomy. If this is the result of loving me, he 
 will probably be reduced to melancholia if I 
 marry him which is a flippant remark about 
 a most serious matter, Most Solemn Image. 
 
 To-night I experienced a highly dramatic 
 moment that makes me shiver when I think A civilized 
 
 of it. There were several people here for the 
 
 duo Ding 
 
 evening and we had had much music. T. M. 
 lingered after the others had gone and fol- 
 lowed me to the door, where I had given 
 Hilda into the quite obviously devoted care 
 of Phil. Schlegel, who is with her much of 
 late. We stood on the porch and watched 
 the two disappear down the walk, PhiFs tall 
 form bending gallantly above Hilda as if she 
 had warped him in her direction. There 
 were chairs on the porch and the night was 
 warm, so I proposed that we sit for a little 
 while. He neither accepted my invitation 
 261 
 
CONFESSIONS TO A HEATHEN IDOL 
 
 nor allowed me to seat myself ; instead, he 
 took my hands in his usual masterly way, and 
 for the first time addressed me by my given 
 name, which intimidated me more than I 
 would be willing to have him know. It was 
 a civilized and polite way of clubbing me 
 into silence and obedience. 
 
 " Marian, are you never going to give me 
 my answer ? " he asked hoarsely. 
 
 " I do not think you have ever asked me 
 for an answer," I replied, parrying. 
 
 " Every day I have asked it," he continued 
 
 A dramatic impetuously. " A thousand times I have 
 
 moment asked - t . j naye watched and wa i te d for it 
 
 through the interminable days of long months. 
 Cannot you see that I am miserable and 
 wretched and am wearing out under the 
 stress of waiting ? I think you do not under- 
 stand how much I need your love just now. 
 It would prove my salvation and strength in 
 ways of which you do not dream j Marian, do 
 not keep me waiting longer !" 
 
 As he grew more vehement and his agita- 
 tion became more apparent, I waxed cool 
 and self-possessed. My hands were still in 
 262 
 
A CHANGE IN CONFESSORS 
 
 his grasp, but they were passive and unrespons- 
 ive while I answered him : 
 
 " I have not given you my decision, Theo- 
 dore, because I have not known my own 
 mind. Be patient with me for a little while 
 yet ! I am sorry that you must suffer and wait, 
 but I am trying to be true to myself and to 
 you. I promise you an answer very soon." 
 My voice was calm and soothing but his 
 trembled as he answered : 
 
 " Heaven help you to decide aright ! I 
 will never again be so weak and childishly Help from 
 
 impatient." Then he bade me good-night above 
 
 much needed 
 and went his way, leaving me to think again 
 
 how different he is from what he formerly 
 was. Two months ago I could have pre- 
 dicted that his answer would have been: 
 " There is but one way to decide you are 
 mine and you do love me." Instead of which 
 he says, " Heaven help you to decide aright." 
 I suppose you must have noticed, "Wise 
 Confessor, that from first to last this man has Not enough of 
 been beyond my comprehension. Life with comfortable 
 him would have too little of the comfort of 
 monotony, I fear. And I think you will 
 263 
 
CONFESSIONS TO A HEATHEN IDOL 
 
 agree that an aged lady of my habits had best 
 not embark on a voyage that is likely to be 
 tempestuous, with nothing to steer by except 
 a demagnetized compass which has evidently 
 lost its hold on the pole star entirely. 
 
 I have just come to a conclusion, which I 
 A confessor am sure is a good one. I will go to Ma Belle 
 with a heart with the whole matter perf^s s h e in her 
 ^nstead of a 
 
 wisdom, can set me straight. What though 
 
 I was the wife of her only son ! She will 
 meet the question without prejudice. Ma 
 Belle has the tender heart of a woman, but 
 she regards things impersonally, like a wise 
 man ; she will consider my problem as ab- 
 stractly as if she had never seen me before, 
 and as vitally as if I were her own daughter. 
 You have been very good to confess to, Idol, 
 but that unimpaired grin of yours has 
 irritated me a little of late. I shall prob- 
 ably come back to you again as soon as you 
 will wish to see me, for I think you are get- 
 ting a little tired of me, as well. 
 
 264 
 
CHAPTEE XXIV 
 MA BELLE'S STORY 
 
 MAY 30TH : Dear Confessor, I think if I 
 did not have you to turn to to-night I 
 should be lost. I will try to give you that 
 conversation with Ma Belle which occurred 
 yesterday, word for word j and perhaps thus 
 I may come to a different conclusion from 
 that forced upon me at the time. 
 
 I found her radiant in a white gown with a 
 bunch of lilies- of-the- valley on her bosom. Ma Belle's 
 
 She prolongs the season of these, her favorite leloved 
 
 flowers 
 flowers ; and always wears them from the first 
 
 daring bloom of April to the last lingering 
 blossom of June. I did not wait for formali- 
 ties, but said to her at once : 
 
 " Ma Belle, I am in trouble and I need 
 you. When can you talk to me ? " 
 
 " Come with me to my room," she an- 
 swered, giving me a keen glance that was 
 265 
 
CONFESSIONS TO A HEATHEN IDOL 
 
 like an X-ray turned upon my inner turmoil. 
 Ma Belle's room is like herself, restful. The 
 prevailing color in it is heavenly blue, yet 
 there is no one thing which displays this 
 color obtrusively ; it is like being enfolded in 
 a bit of sky to enter the room. She placed 
 me in an easy chair, bolted the door and 
 seated herself at my side. She knew in- 
 stinctively that looking me in the face would 
 disconcert me. 
 
 fl I do not know where to begin," I fal- 
 tered. 
 
 " Begin in the middle,' 7 she suggested 
 A good place practically, and I felt helped; but my voice 
 to begin was h oarse with terror when I finally said : 
 
 " My trouble is an absurd one ; the simple 
 fact is Theodore Morris has been foolish 
 enough to fall in love with me and rash 
 enough to insist that I shall marry him." 
 
 " All of which goes to show that Mr. 
 Morris is a young man of excellent taste, to 
 fall in love with and wish to marry the most 
 entrancing little woman in the whole world," 
 she answered affectionately and as reassur- 
 ingly as if it were a merely commonplace in- 
 266 
 
MA BELLE'S STOKY 
 
 stead of a monstrous fact that I was telling 
 
 to her. After a moment of silence she went This world a 
 
 on, Marian. I have been surprised that $ lace f or 
 
 living loves 
 you have not married again, and I hope you 
 
 have understood me well enough to believe 
 that I should always be happy in your hap- 
 piness. You were a good wife to Paul j but 
 this world is a place for living loves rather 
 than for those that are dead. While we 
 stay here it is right that we live strongly and 
 completely, and if I could have my choice I 
 would prefer to see you happily married. 
 But tell me, what does the heart of my little 
 girl say to the demands of this young man ! " 
 She so rarely calls me her " little girl " that 
 I felt at once the support of her tenderness, 
 and I turned and faced her as I answered : 
 
 " Honestly, I do not know. He is a power- 
 ful man and a masterly, interesting lover; 
 and I have been more or less carried away 
 from my moorings by him. But Ma Belle, 
 what do you think of a woman marrying a 
 man twelve years her junior? It seems to 
 me preposterous and unthinkable. Did you Tlie age 
 
 ever hear of anything so foolish?" She 
 
 again 
 smiled brightly, as she answered : 
 
 267 
 
CONFESSIONS TO A HEATHEN IDOL 
 
 " Marian, I have discovered that the modern 
 
 The modern Lorelei may have silver hair and a silver 
 
 Lorelei CQml) with wnic k slie seems to be able to 
 
 lure innocent young sailors to an untimely 
 landing. It takes a weird philosophy to 
 account for the vagaries of the human heart ; 
 therefore I cannot explain why in these de- 
 generate days, certain young men seem to 
 find most attractive the women who have 
 lived and known. The girl of sixteen which 
 so dominated the novels of my youth is sel- 
 dom heard of now ; and although the present 
 day novelist has not yet developed the hardi- 
 hood to weave a romance about the youth of 
 twenty and the woman of forty, yet the situ- 
 ation is common enough and certainly has 
 in it dramatic possibilities." 
 
 " How do you explain such unnatural 
 social phenomena ? " I interrupted. She 
 answered slowly and thoughtfully : 
 
 " I have thought about it much, and the only 
 
 Wisdom vs. explanation I can find is that youth and beauty 
 
 innocence no i on g er satisfy a certain type of young man 
 
 who may be found in numbers to-day. He 
 
 prefers wisdom to innocence j maturity to 
 
 268 
 
MA BELLE'S STORY 
 
 beauty; eyes that see through, him rather 
 than those which gaze at him in adoration. 
 Kuby lips offer to him but slight attraction 
 compared to lips which utter clever things ; 
 and above all a man likes to be mothered by 
 the woman he loves, and that undoubtedly 
 accounts for much. 
 
 "Then, too, a man does not keep his different 
 kinds of loving as distinct as does a woman. A man's loves 
 
 She knows her own heart ; and if she regards not weU 
 
 classified 
 a man with daughterly, sisterly or friendly 
 
 affection, she does not confuse it with love. 
 But a man never forgets that he is a man, 
 and the moment his heart is open toward a 
 woman, the sex relation intrudes itself 
 whether it has any right to or not. A 
 man is too much dominated by sex conscious- 
 ness to be able to discriminate clearly." 
 
 "Then you believe it unsafe to depend up- 
 on the love of a man so much younger ! " I 
 interrupted. 
 
 "I will not say that, because I have known 
 many instances where it has proved as firm Begging the 
 as a rock for the foundation of a happy 
 married life. It depends upon the character 
 269 
 
CONFESSIONS TO A HEATHEN IDOL 
 
 of the man and of the woman, which is beg- 
 ging the question." 
 
 "What then do you think of Mr. Morris 
 and me as candidates for such a marriage f " 
 I demanded bluntly. 
 
 Ma Belle arose with distinct agitation and 
 went over to the window and stood there 
 looking out, while her hands clasped and un- 
 clasped nervously ; after a time she came back 
 and standing before me said with obvious 
 effort : 
 
 "Marian, dear child, I cannot help you by 
 
 Ma Belle's deciding for you , but if my own experience 
 
 story w in ^ip y OU ^ vou skau k ave ^ I will tell 
 
 you what I thought never to tell to any one. 
 You shall know my judgment about my own 
 life, and perhaps that will help you." 
 
 "Do not tell me if it hurts you to do it," I 
 cried. 
 
 "Yes, Marian, I owe it to you to tell you, 
 and I shall tell you even though it hurts. 
 You are so dear to me, so truly my own child 
 that my experience belongs to you, and you 
 shall get what of help it affords." We were 
 silent for a moment, then she began : 
 270 
 
MA BELLE'S STORY 
 
 "I am supposed to approve of marriage ; 
 but if serene happiness were the only thing A well 
 
 worth while in life I should certainly never lalanced 
 
 ration for 
 advise anybody to get married. However, mankind 
 
 as a well balanced ration of joy, care and pain 
 seem the best nourishment for the growth of 
 the human soul, I can conscientiously recom- 
 mend marriage as a 'good provider.' You 
 know that I was left a widow when Paul was 
 ten years old. My married life had not been 
 a very happy one ; Paul's father was a 
 brilliant man and not a bad one, but he had 
 feelings instead of judgment. Though I put 
 my best abilities to the task, I could never 
 predict what he would do or desire next. I Marriage 
 soon grew to humor him as if he were a child, compromises 
 and in that attitude lay all the possibilities 
 for happiness in our married life. I believe 
 he was as happy with me as he could have 
 been with anyone, nor do I believe that he 
 missed the respect and honor which I would 
 have so gladly given him. 
 
 "When all was over, I found that I had 
 relied on myself so long, and so little on him 
 that I took up the duties of life alone with no 
 271 
 
CONFESSIONS TO A HEATHEN IDOL 
 
 special effort. I devoted myself to the rear- 
 Tlie length of ing and education of Paul, and you know the 
 ear ' rest. I need not have lived alone, Marian, for 
 good men and true have loved me and have 
 shown it by their lives. The heart-cycle is 
 ordinarily not very extended and I am bound 
 to admit that the heart masculine is a swift 
 repeater ; but, Marian, two men whom I 
 honor have remained single because of love 
 of me. (I thought of Marvin Gray.) 
 
 "It was after you and Paul were married 
 
 Love fills that I came to know well a man only a few 
 
 the void years older than Paill fcirasetf. i cannot tell 
 
 you the kind of man he was and is for various 
 reasons. He came into my life when it was 
 empty. (Dear Ma Belle, how little did she let 
 us feel the emptiness of her life after I took 
 Paul !) He understood me, a fact which 
 seemed to me most marvellous ; and without 
 intrusion he came into my life and filled my 
 thoughts. He was wonderful in his instincts 
 and intuitions, and he had the elements of 
 greatness in his character. 
 
 "I was forty-four and he thirty when he told 
 me that he loved me and entreated me to be 
 272 
 
MA BELLE'S STORY 
 
 his wife. I loved him as I have loved no 
 
 other man, and I told him so. I struggled as when Love 
 
 you are struggling with the same problem, ** in ^ attle 
 
 only my heart pleaded for him as your heart 
 
 does not plead for Theodore Morris. 
 
 "I would not yield because I measured the 
 results that would follow this disparity of An evidence 
 
 ages after marriage. I did not feel equal to fjji rowin 9 
 
 old 
 the strain of beginning life again with him. 
 
 I think a chief evidence of growing old is an 
 unwillingness to pay for experiences what 
 they cost. I was too set in my own grooves 
 to change and be his wife. How could I 
 spend my energies making myself attractive, 
 beautiful and interesting so that he would 
 never miss what a younger woman would give 
 him ? I had lived that phase of my life once, 
 and did not feel equal to living it over again. 
 The handicap seemed too great and, Marian, Woman's 
 I sent him away. After Paul died he came handica P 
 back to me ; and that time it was harder to 
 deny him than it had been before. But my 
 decision was made and I would not yield to 
 him nor to my own heart. 
 
 "Ever since that time, I have questioned 
 273 
 
CONFESSIONS TO A HEATHEN IDOL 
 
 the wisdom of my decision. I have been lonely, 
 The barter of so lonely for him. And though the wisdom of 
 happiness for the world would approve my act. I am still 
 wisdom 
 
 wondering if I did not do a vital and per- 
 manent wrong. He has never married, and 
 has gone bravely on with his work as I knew 
 he would. I should hold in contempt a man 
 who did not live strongly because I could not 
 live at his side. 
 
 "Marian, neither he nor anyone else has 
 ever known the heights and depths of my 
 madness. Sometimes I see him and we speak 
 of our love j and the moments spent with him 
 are so ecstatically happy that I cannot re- 
 member them afterwards. 
 
 "I hope that you will go home and think 
 
 When the over carefully what I have said before you 
 
 teart pleads make your decision. If I thought that you 
 
 loved Mr. Morris as I have loved my lover all 
 
 these years, I would say, marry him and defy 
 
 the world and common sense." She was 
 
 silent for a moment and then said : 
 
 "I know you are wondering who this man 
 is, but, of course I cannot tell you. I will 
 only say that though you may have seen him, 
 you do not know him." 
 274 
 
MA BELLE'S STOEY 
 
 f arose too overcome with surprise and awe 
 to say anything, but I knew she understood. 
 
 She came with me to the door, and as we 
 stood there hand in hand, I again was con- 
 scious of her loveliness which age could not 
 dim, and my heart went out to that man who 
 loved her. As I left her I took a spray of the 
 lilies from her bosom at which she whispered 
 as a flush crept over her face : 
 
 "The room was filled with the odor of lilies- 
 of-the- valley, and I wore them the night he LiUes-of-the - 
 told me that he loved me. They were in valley 
 bloom again when he came back to me, and 
 that is why I love them." 
 
 I kissed her and came away in a daze, hold- 
 ing in my hand helplessly the delicate flowei 
 I had taken. The world grew dark and I 
 could not see where I was walking, for I had 
 suddenly remembered that bunch of faded 
 lilies-of-the-valley inadvertently discovered 
 in Tom Carroll's desk and then I knew. 
 
 MAY 31ST : She said I did not know him, 
 d*ar Ma Belle, that lie was so white that it A shining He 
 fairly shone ! Of course she would not let me 
 275 
 
CONFESSIONS TO A HEATHEN IDOL 
 
 suspect that it was Tom. For the sake of 
 helping me she could confide to me her own 
 story, but his secret must be kept inviolate. 
 
 It is all so plain now, for every word she 
 said applies to him perfectly. He is a few 
 years older than Paul, who was born before 
 Ma Belle was eighteen. And how could Tom 
 be with her so intimately and not love her, 
 for she is the most interesting woman in the 
 whole round world. If they had married she 
 would have retained all her charm for him, 
 even if she lived to the age of ninety. Any 
 one associated with her would have to be 
 blind and deaf not to love her. Tom Carroll 
 could not help it, and so he has gone on nobly 
 and bravely, living his life parallel with that 
 of the woman he loves, even though he might 
 not live it with her. 
 
 As for myself, it does not matter. I have 
 Between the not been so foolish as to care so much that I 
 
 upper and the canno t meet this revelation as becomes his 
 
 nether 
 mill-stones friend and her daughter. Nor do I think I 
 
 have anything to repent ; how could I help 
 
 caring very much for a man so true and 
 
 strong a man so brave and unselfish as he ? 
 
 276 
 
MA BELLE'S STOKY 
 
 I am glad that I had discernment enough to 
 comprehend his nobility and care for him as 
 I have done. I trust in the end I shall prove 
 myself worthy of these two, who have turned 
 so resolutely away from the tragedy of their 
 two lives and have with steady eyes confronted 
 the future, each alone. 
 
 JUNE IST : To-day there came a package 
 from Ma Belle, and a little note which says : 
 
 DEAR MARIAN: 
 
 I told you that no one knew the heights and 
 depths of nay madness. I found to-day these Life-Wood a 
 verses and I send them to you and hope that you stultifying 
 will read them. They are not poetry, for they injc 
 were written in my life's blood and life's blood is a 
 stultifying ink. True art can only come through 
 distance and perspective ; but these were written 
 at the storm center. I think it is a relief to have 
 you know the truth. 
 
 Lovingly, 
 
 MA BELLE. 
 
 I have read these verses and I will read 
 them again to you, my Confessor. Not be- 
 cause you will appreciate them but because it 
 hurts to read them. I do not think I am 
 
 277 
 
CONFESSIONS TO A HEATHEN IDOL 
 
 jealous. Jealousy is such a mean, insane 
 Better have emotion that we had better have remained 
 
 remained g re g ar i ous than to have developed so con- 
 gregarious 
 
 temptible a passion. But it all hurts, and I 
 
 wish I could get away from it. 
 
 These verses reveal to me a woman I have 
 Woman's never known. We women understand each 
 
 limits in ot ] ier exce pt on one side, and that we never 
 understand- 
 ing woman understand. A man understands this side 
 
 first of all, though he may be unable to com- 
 prehend anything else in us. 
 
 LILIES-OF-THE-VALLEY. 
 
 White, gleaming lily bells 
 Your fairy music wells 
 
 Into a chime 
 Of perfume on the air, 
 Proclaiming everywhere 
 
 Glad spring-time. 
 
 As o'er my senses steals 
 The incense of your peals, 
 
 My breath comes fast ; 
 A flood-tide beats and breaks 
 Against a heart that aches ; 
 Your subtle fragrance makes 
 
 Me live the past. 
 278 
 
MA BELLE'S STOKY 
 
 Ring, pearly lily bells, 
 The saddest of your knells 
 
 For me, your friend, 
 For a love born not to die, 
 For a grief without a cry, 
 For a soul that questions," Why?" 
 
 Unto the end, 
 
 May, 1886. 
 
 BARREN VICTORY. 
 
 I have conquered ; the battle is done ; 
 
 I gaze on the field of my slain. 
 By counting my loss, I have won ; 
 
 Despair is the meed of my gain. 
 
 The struggle was bitter, and now 
 Pale Victory stands at my side; 
 
 Though laurels are fresh on her brow, 
 They fail her grim visage to hide. 
 
 I have conquered. Henceforth I may dream 
 How precious, how infinite sweet 
 
 Would life and this empty world seem 
 Had the rapture been mine of defeat. 
 July, 1890. 
 
 GOOD NIGHT. 
 
 Dear heart, you said " good night," 
 And the dim stars vaguely watched 
 You vanish from my sight. 
 279 
 
CONFESSIONS TO A HEATHEN IDOL 
 
 Good night, yea, surely good, 
 Because you came God-sent 
 And by my side had stood. 
 
 Good night, yea, night for ay, 
 For when you left me there, 
 You took with you the day. 
 October, 1889. 
 
 A BIRTHDAY GREETING. 
 
 What have the years unto thee given? 
 
 A life fair and strong ! 
 
 Yea, though to it belong that human strength 
 temptation riven, 
 
 Which faceth bravely wrong. 
 
 What shall the years unto thee bring ? 
 
 The subtle gift to know 
 
 That other lives are built by gaunt strife's meas- 
 uring, 
 
 The fairest even so. 
 
 What doth the heart that loves thee so 
 
 Bring unto thee this day ? 
 
 One happy thought, I pray ! 
 It would bring weal ; it bringeth woe, 
 
 And love and love alway. 
 
 December, 1894. 
 
 280 
 
MA BELLE'S STOKY 
 
 BOWED DOWN. 
 
 Thy burdens bow thee down, Beloved, 
 
 But I cannot repine, 
 Since only when thy head is bowed 
 
 My eyes may look in thine. 
 
 And when thy eyes meet mine, Beloved, 
 
 Life's better gifts I see : 
 Great life and love, and the loneliness 
 
 Of a Gethsemane. 
 
 January, 1897. 
 
 THE LOVING CUP. 
 
 Wherefore hath our loving cup 
 
 Of jewelled handles three? 
 A guest this night sits at our board, 
 With veiled form and dark eyes lowered, 
 
 Sweetheart, who may she be ? 
 
 We rise to drink, and lift the cup 
 
 By jewelled handles three. 
 Sweetheart, >t is Fate ; she giveth first 
 The cup unto our lips athirst, 
 
 Then drinks to thee and me. 
 281 
 
CONFESSIONS TO A HEATHEN IDOL 
 
 The draught within the loving cup, 
 
 Which brimmeth o'er for three, 
 Was drawn from Lethe's darkened stream, 
 And now, sweetheart, life is the dream, 
 
 Love, the reality. 
 Jane, 1896. 
 
 OUR STARS. 
 
 Where are our stars to-night, sweetheart? 
 
 The clouds are hanging low, 
 Gray clouds that move not hence, sweetheart, 
 
 Though driving west- winds blow. 
 Are your skies dark or bright, sweetheart? 
 
 Alas ! I may not know. 
 
 When my stars are lost from sight, sweetheart, 
 
 My heart doth make this plea 
 To the powers of might and night, sweetheart, 
 
 That you the stars still see. 
 God keep you in the light, sweetheart, 
 
 Though darkness falls on me. 
 
 June, 1903. 
 
 282 
 
CHAPTER XXV 
 
 THE VIOLIN MAKES LOVE TO THE PIANO 
 WITH STARTLING RESULTS 
 
 JUNE 3D: Dear Confessor, after all you 
 are my only help. Ma Belle instead of The best 
 helping, has made it worse. I met Theodore 
 down town to-day when I was trying to keep 
 my mind on some necessary marketing and 
 shopping. He gave me one long and ques- 
 tioning look and then took his place at my 
 side without asking leave, and I at once felt 
 the sympathy and help which he was mutely 
 offering to me. Every cadence of his voice 
 in our very commonplace conversation told 
 me that he was giving himself to me because 
 I was in need ; he comforted the bare and 
 aching place and I let myself rest, sustained 
 by his ministrations. Though no word of 
 deeper meaning was said, I came home cheered The dangers 
 and strengthened by his subtle understanding 
 of me. 
 
 283 
 
CONFESSIONS TO A HEATHEN IDOL 
 
 In the whirlpool of emotion in which I 
 Thecondi- have been helplessly drifting around and 
 ^^niarriagl aroun( l since that day with mamma, I had 
 almost forgotten that this problem of T. M. 
 is immediately before me. The temptation 
 is to take what comforts and helps j I feel 
 the instinct of seeking shelter in his arms 
 from this tempest of loneliness and despair. 
 Under the stress of it all it is hard to remem- 
 ber the great truth that marriage is never 
 true and right unless the two give equally, 
 even though they take unequally. I am 
 afraid of my own weakness afraid that I 
 shall yield to his will rather than to my own 
 sense of right and justice. 
 
 JUNE 4TH : Oh, how can mortals be so blind, 
 so blind ! It seems as if there were nothing 
 left for me these days but shock after shock 
 of awakening. 
 
 All day yesterday I wrestled with my prob- 
 Perilous lem, and the more I wrestled, the more 
 restlessness rec ki ess j became. There is a factor of rest- 
 lessness in recklessness which is most danger- 
 ous. We do not so much desire to do reck- 
 284 
 
THE VIOLIN MAKES LOVE TO PIANO 
 
 less deeds as to do something, no matter what, 
 to change present conditions. 
 
 Last night Theodore came with his violin 
 to play for me, " If we could only be left alone 
 for a few moments," he whispered. But 
 Hilda chanced to come in and of course the 
 two played together. I was relieved by 
 Hilda's opportune appearance for, truth to 
 tell, I was afraid of being left alone with him 
 and his heart-pleading violin 5 I felt the need 
 of a brief reprieve. 
 
 Somewhat late in the evening we three 
 were left alone j as the two began playing the Perfec 
 music they knew I loved best I, as usual, 
 curled up on the sofa and shut my eyes to 
 listen. At first they did not play as well as 
 usual, but finally it went better and it seemed 
 to me that I had never heard them play so 
 perfectly ; they were evidently attuned to 
 each other's moods. They played Chopin's 
 Nocturnes and Preludes, Godard's Berceuse, 
 and The Swan by Saint Saens, and a Beet- 
 hoven Sonata. 
 
 I did not care for their music, although I 
 realized that it had never before been so 
 285 
 
CONFESSIONS TO A HEATHEN IDOL 
 
 thrilling. I could not find even the this- 
 Love crosses world end of my bridge to music land. I 
 
 fl % e ' I was weltering in my own inner misery and 
 musvc land 
 
 could not be called out of myself. Restlessly 
 I opened my eyes and looked at the players j 
 they were under the full blaze of the Wels- 
 bach light and were both facing nearly in my 
 direction. They had just finished the Aria 
 on the G string and Hilda was as pale as 
 death. In strong contrast his face was aglow ; 
 there was fire in his eyes, a bright color 
 burned in his usually pale cheeks, and even 
 his moustache could not hide the tremulous 
 tenderness of his lips. For the first time I 
 saw his inner being revealed in his features. 
 As he placed another piece of music on the 
 
 The piano in front of her, his hands were trembling 
 heart-plead- SQ that t]ie slieet was s h a ki ng . as he leaned 
 ing violin 
 
 over to put it in place his eyes must have 
 
 sought hers ; I could not see his face for the 
 moment but Hilda's was in fall view, and a 
 wave of red surged over it from brow to chin, 
 then retreated leaving it more pallid than 
 before. They began playing Beethoven's 
 Adelaida, and never in my life had I heard 
 286 
 
THE VIOLIN MAKES LOVE TO PIANO 
 
 such impassioned music. The violin pleaded 
 and pleaded until its heart seemed breaking j 
 the piano responded sweet and profoundly 
 sad 5 and I was overcome by the music even 
 as I lay there stupefied by my discovery. 
 
 As soon as I could think, it all became 
 plain ; and I had now gained the key to the A quite 
 mysterious moods and actions of this man ^^ 
 who had been wooing me. At first he be- situation 
 lieved he loved me, and was calm and master- 
 ful and sure in his methods for winning me. 
 After Hilda came and they played together 
 so constantly, he became moody and grim, 
 and his wooing was evidently mere bravado 
 to convince himself that he was loyal to me. 
 I must have been mad not to have seen it all 
 long ago. 
 
 Whatever the music this night revealed to 
 them of heart-struggle and love, I do not 
 know ; but it cleared my understanding, 
 brought back my self-control, re-established 
 my sanity and made me at once master of 
 the situation. Before the last bars of 
 Adelaida were finished, I arose and thought- 
 fully tipped over a chair on my way toward 
 287 
 
CONFESSIONS TO A HEATHEN IDOL 
 
 the piano and the absorbed musicians. As 
 they stopped playing I exclaimed : 
 
 " Oh, that wretched chair ! Please for- 
 give me and it ! You two have fairly out- 
 done yourselves to-night making music for 
 me, and I can find no words to fittingly thank 
 you with. I am certainly the most favored 
 mortal in the whole world." 
 
 And thus by cheerful commonplaces, I 
 
 The safe brought them back to earth and its realities. 
 
 nplwe I sent them home together, too, knowing well 
 
 that despite the longing in his heart, he 
 
 would be true to his avowal to me. I must 
 
 confess also that I am quite willing to have 
 
 him suffer a little ; it will widen and deepen 
 
 his channel. 
 
 Since I have come to my room, I have 
 A proper written him a letter. It is thus I give him 
 
 relation to ^ freedom without allowing him to sus- 
 tho secrets of 
 
 others pect that I know the truth. It is a great 
 
 source of personal power to know the secrets 
 of others' lives, but it is vastly embarrassing 
 to have them know that you have discovered 
 such secrets independently. Listen to this 
 
 288 
 
THE VIOLIN MAKES LOVE TO PIANO 
 
 letter, Confessor, and I am very certain you 
 will hardly dare to call me guileless. 
 
 MY DEAR THEODORE : 
 
 You have asked me for an answer to a very 
 momentous question, and I have been coming to j guileful 
 this answer little by little. I do not suppose you letter 
 will ever know what a temptation you have been 
 to me with your sympathy, understanding and 
 love. But I have finally achieved sufficient 
 strength to do what is right and be true to myself 
 and to you. 
 
 I knew from the first that I could never love you 
 as a wife ought to love ; but your love for me was 
 so sweet and so comforting when I was needing 
 comfort that I almost forgot what I could give in 
 return. 
 
 It was a mirage, dear friend, and we have both ^ mirage 
 wandered on and on toward it, hoping to see it 
 materialize. But it remained always on our hori- 
 zon ; at best, it was a paradise picture upside down. 
 
 I am going away from you, for I will not place 
 myself in a position to be again tempted. And I 
 believe with all my heart that when I come back 
 we shall be better friends than ever before ; and 
 that all temptation to twist our friendship into 
 something closer will have been laid low. 
 Faithfully yours, 
 
 MARIAN. 
 289 
 
CONFESSIONS TO A HEATHEN IDOL 
 
 I am going away so that he shall not see 
 lack of me until he has had time- to orient himself. 
 
 [ el f~ Probably he does not understand himself, 
 comprehen- 
 sion men seldom do in such crises. I remem- 
 ber well when I read the Choir Invisible, I 
 thought how true to man's nature was the 
 character of John Gray. He thought he was 
 in love with Amy when he was really in love 
 with the Madam ; and he afterwards married 
 another woman and was perfectly happy. 
 Over and over I have been amazed at a man's 
 capability for loving two or three simultane- 
 ously. With women it is far different : they 
 love tandem, even though they change teams 
 A gratuitous often. All this sounds heartless and flippant, 
 
 and Remark but !t is a natural reaction. No one but you, 
 My Confessor, knows how truly relieved I am 
 to have the Theodore Morris problem solve 
 itself. When I think how near I came to 
 spoiling his life and mine, I shiver. He was 
 never in my straight road ; I found him when 
 I was making a detour by a devious and blind 
 
 A Hind trail trail. I believe I could endure living the 
 truth however hard it might be ; but it seems 
 a quite unnecessary waste of energy to go 
 290 
 
THE VIOLIN MAKES LOVE TO PIANO 
 
 out of my way in order to endure the hard- 
 ship of living a lie. 
 
 And yet the discovery which I made to- 
 night was a shock to me ; not a terrible shock, An 
 
 but the sort that comes from sitting on the Dominions 
 
 experience 
 floor instead of the chair one expects to sit 
 
 on. There is a most ignominious feeling 
 about it all. 
 
 If you knew women well, you might think 
 that though I love not my lover, I still might Love that is 
 
 not like to yield him to another woman. But tru cann <>t fo 
 
 T _ alienated 
 
 this is not so j I would be entirely content and 
 
 happy to see Theodore and Hilda happy to- 
 gether as husband and wife. I do not think 
 there is any jealousy in my composition, be- 
 cause of my sincere belief that if a love is 
 mine, it cannot be alienated ; -and if it belongs 
 to another, I do not desire it. And, too, I 
 love Hilda and I love Ma Belle. Moreover, 
 my creed has always been to face things as 
 they are and not to cover my eyes with my 
 hands in order not to see them. But it hurts 
 to face some things, little god, it hurts ! 
 
 291 
 
CHAPTER XXVI 
 
 JL FLIGHT TO THE HILLS. FRIENDS' MEETING 
 
 JUNE 6TH : I hope your sudden flight 
 across country to this beautiful spot, and 
 An excellent the exchange of your carven temple for a 
 cement s ^ e ^ adorned with a linen lambrequin broi- 
 dered with extraordinary fuchsias has not 
 made you either dizzy or irritable, My Con- 
 fessor. You see, I could not help eloping 
 with you. As you may have inferred, life has 
 been a little too much for me of late, so I 
 gathered up the fragments of myself and 
 brought them away j and here, in this limpid 
 quiet and peacefulness, I will set them to- 
 gether again and trust that ultimately not a 
 crack will be discernible. 
 
 From your shelf beneath my little uneven 
 Mine own hills mirror, which makes me look as wobbly as I 
 feel, you may look out between snowy cur- 
 tains across a grassy dooryard, thence across 
 292 
 
A FLIGHT T0 THE HILLS 
 
 a valley to a range of eastern hills. One 
 of the pleasantest physical sensations of 
 my life was the feeling of the soft knot-grass 
 beneath my little bare feet, when in my child- 
 hood I was allowed to remove my shoes and 
 stockings and play for a brief but rapturous 
 hour in this sunny dooryard. And those are 
 mine own hills which I lived with and dreamed 
 with during the years of girlhood, when all 
 the great world that lay beyond that hor- 
 izon was one of high hopes and entrancing 
 happiness. Now that I know just what there 
 is in that great world, I hurry back to love 
 my hills still more for what they fence out. 
 This is my life-saving-station, and I came none 
 too soon. 
 
 The lady with fair face and quirly white 
 hair, who asked in a tone of amazement this Aunt Sylvia 
 morning concerning Your Serene Highness, 
 "What on the broad footstool is this thing on 
 your shelf, Marian?" is Aunt Sylvia. She 
 and Uncle Stephen came here to live when 
 Aunt Emily died, and they are a part of the 
 beauty, the peace and the healing which over- 
 flows the place. These two wholesome, youth- 
 293 
 
CONFESSIONS TO A HEATHEN IDOL 
 
 ful elderly ones are twins, and have lived 
 Uncle Stephen together, barring the two brief years of 
 Uncle Stephen's married life, since they were 
 born. I can see Uncle Stephen now, smoking 
 his pipe in his big chair on the porch of the 
 L. His cheeks are rosy and his blue eyes are 
 merry as he looks up at the robin in her nest 
 above his head ; and his voice is soft and 
 reassuring as he greets a hen, coming slowly 
 toward him with stately step and sidewise 
 stare to discover if he has anything in his 
 pocket for her to eat. And now he has taken 
 up his New York Evening Post and is nod- 
 ding vigorously as he reads some editorial. 
 Editorial The pepper-sauce of that editorial page is 
 yeppev e ^^ as necessarv to his happiness as his daily 
 meat. 
 
 I came without warning, as I usually do ; 
 and my welcome was as warm as if specially 
 prepared. Aunt Sylvia tucked me into bed 
 last night as she used to when as a girl I spent 
 my vacations here. And I put my head on 
 that blessed pillow and slept as I have not 
 slept before for weeks. 
 294 
 
A FLIGHT TO THE HILLS 
 JUNE TTH : I wish I had taken you with, 
 me this morning, to the great woods on the The ministry 
 "templed hills." Though the sun was shining, f the birds 
 the leaf-canopy above me was so thick that I 
 was walking in twilight. I found a tree bent 
 into a seat, into which I used to clamber with 
 a sense of happy proprietorship, and there I 
 sat me down to listen to the bird concert. A 
 vireo was asking querulous questions in the 
 distance j a wood thrush near by gave out his 
 notes boldly, fortissimo 5 a veery was so in love 
 with his song that he repeated it four times, 
 lingeringly; and now and then a hermit 
 thrush sent his heavenly voice echoing through 
 the twilight spaces, music so exquisite that we 
 might not bear more than a single phrase. 
 Then, lest I be drunk with melody, the oven 
 bird called "teacher, teacher," to bring me 
 back to earth. Yes, back to earth j but not A good place 
 an earth of trouble and perplexity ; an earth, to lwe m 
 instead, where green forests grow beset with 
 meadows aglow with buttercups, overarched 
 with blue skies. 
 
 You who know something of my inner tur- 
 moil during the preceding days, may have 
 295 
 
CONFESSIONS TO A HEATHEN IDOL 
 
 difficulty in understanding how I have so 
 
 Antiseptic suddenly changed my inner as well as my 
 thinking outer WQrld j t is my wa ^ deap j d() ^ when 
 
 T am hit, not to stay and waste myself in fur- 
 ther struggle, but to flee from the battle field, 
 turn my face to green fields and sunny skies ; 
 and by keeping my thoughts thoroughly an- 
 tiseptic, let the hurts heal through Nature's 
 own kindly treatment. 
 
 The Master evinced his wisdom when he 
 
 Conscience went to the desert to be tempted, it was much 
 
 1 apogee sa f er y^^ ^ o h ave remained in the haunts of 
 
 men j never to be alone is in itself demoral- 
 izing. Though this beautiful spot is hardly a 
 desert, yet for me it is the delectable land of 
 nowhere j and the logical and delightful thing 
 to do is to subside into a nobody. No introspec- 
 tions, no retrospections, no sack-cloth 5 and 
 ashes but an aid to the general fertility of the 
 spiritual outlook. Even conscience soon be- 
 comes obsolete, because there is nothing here to 
 exercise it. I suspect that hermits originally 
 dwelt in hermitages so as to get away from all 
 need of a conscience. 
 
 296 
 
A FLIGHT TO THE HILLS 
 
 JUNE STH : This morning I went with Uncle 
 Stephen to hoe corn ; it was planted in a Hoeing 
 small field on the hill that faces the east, corn 
 from which may be seen the windings of the 
 creek around the bases of the interlacing 
 hills. The corn was just peeping from the 
 soft, purple mold, and Uncle Stephen ex 
 plained : 
 
 " All the rest of the corn on the farm is 
 drilled in with a planter, and is harrowed and Friendly 
 cultivated according to new-fangled notions ; battle 
 but I plant and hoe this piece every year be- 
 cause I like to. If I could not give my old back 
 some good stiff exercise hoeing corn, I am 
 afraid I should soon get decrepit and useless." 
 He gently smoothed the fresh earth around 
 the tender plants, proving skilfully that a hoe 
 may caress as well as cut, and continued : 
 "Thee knows the only fighting Friends may 
 indulge in is against weeds, and their only ap- 
 proved weapon is the hoe. I love to work 
 with the corn j I think it is a beautiful plant 
 from the time it sprouts until it is harvested. 
 I like to think of it as the plant which gave 
 our Pilgrim Fathers sustenance during those 
 297 
 
CONFESSIONS TO A HEATHEN IDOL 
 
 first hard years, growing cheerfully for them 
 between the stumps of their clearings where 
 no civilized grain could grow. Did thee ever 
 hear the ripening grain talk ? It has a lan- 
 guage of its own, and I often stand and listen 
 to it whispering and whispering in corn talk, 
 and wish I understood it better than I do." 
 
 Dear Uncle Stephen ! He should have been 
 Living poetry using a pen instead of a hoe ; but he is one of 
 
 instead of tlie bi esse( i ones w h o ij ve poe try instead of 
 writing it 
 
 writing it. I sat under a tree at the edge of 
 
 the field, and watched his sturdy arms in 
 their snowy sleeves work havoc in the weed 
 ranks ; meanwhile I gave myself over to the 
 beguilement of the meadow-larks' refrain. 
 There are no words to express what their 
 song means to me, perhaps 'happy tears would 
 express it better than anything else. 
 
 JUNE 9TH : This morning Aunt Sylvia said 
 to me in her humorous way, 
 
 " What a fine world this would be if there 
 
 The curse of were no ( buts ' or l ifs ' in it no conjunctions 
 
 conjunctions a t a ll except 'and.' I have always believed 
 
 that conjunctions were the first inventions of 
 
 298 
 
A FLIGHT TO THE HILLS 
 
 the serpent. When his poor victims were put 
 out of Eden, he hurled a lot of conjunctions 
 after them by way of emphasizing their fallen 
 condition." 
 
 That was a fine conception, little god j how 
 true that a happy and consistent world would Nice, serene 
 need no conjunction but nice, serene "and." " an d" 
 Listen now : Marian was born, and grew up, 
 and was naughty, and was good, and was happy 
 at times, and died peacefully, and evanesced 
 into Nirvana. Does n't that sound easy and 
 simple? Well, in this place, I shall soon 
 eliminate my " buts " and " ifs, " and " fors." 
 
 I have had a restful day ; I spent a good 
 share of it in the hammock, gazing idly at the The song of 
 
 upland seas of meadow-grass undulating in the f 6 
 summer wind. I could not think for listening world 
 to the bobolinks ; ever since I was a child the 
 bobolink song has tinkled itself joyously into 
 the uttermost parts of my being. I gave my- 
 self up to it to-day and have grown in grace 
 because of it. Who says this is a hard and 
 perplexing world f It is a world exactly 
 right ; I am proud to be in any world that 
 has in it a bobolink. 
 
 299 
 
CONFESSIONS TO A HEATHEN IDOL 
 
 JUNE HTH : A most interesting Sabbath 
 
 Organized day ! It never occurred to me before, but of 
 
 worship course you? b e i n g a Benighted Heathen, do 
 
 do not know what Sunday is, do you ? We 
 people of the western world are prone to 
 organization j and so we organize our worship, 
 and put it all in one day of every seven, and 
 call that day Sunday. 
 
 This morning I hope you noticed the utter 
 
 A First-day stillness which pervaded this house j even 
 
 pilgrimage Maria in the k i tcnen did not rattle the dishes 
 
 and pans as is her wont on week days. At 
 ten the great carriage drawn by the plump 
 farm-horses was at the door j there was room 
 in it for us all including Maria, and James the 
 hired man, and Eleazer, the hired boy. It 
 was a soft, misty morning and as we drove 
 along by lush meadows, the trees were mere 
 shadows in the fog. We dropped Maria at 
 the Methodist, and James at the Baptist 
 church, but Eleazer went on with us to the 
 Quaker meeting house where I used to go 
 when a child. It was as bare and as clean 
 and peaceful as ever, but there were fewer 
 people within it than of yore. Aunt Sylvia 
 300 
 
A FLIGHT TO THE HILLS 
 
 and Uncle Stephen sat on the high seats, 
 facing the congregation, and a few other 
 placid faces that I remembered looked down 
 upon us from that eminence. 
 
 The meeting began and we sat long in 
 silence. No temptation came to me now to Quaker 
 break that blessed silence with profane shout- meetin 9 
 ing ; it permeated my soul comfortingly. 
 After Uncle Josiah Palmer had prayed, even 
 as he used to pray employing the same words 
 and thoughts, the sun broke through the 
 clouds and illumined the room. In this flood 
 of light there arose a man whom I did not 
 knowj his thin, sensitive face showed deep 
 lines but it shone with peace and was as 
 beautiful and clean cut as a cameo. There 
 was something that smacked of the world and 
 its vanities in his well fitting suit of gray, his 
 white vest and the jaunty *roll to the wide 
 brim of his hat which he held in his hand as 
 he talked 5 in a voice musical and vibrant he 
 said : 
 
 " 'To give unto them beauty for ashes ; the 
 oil of joy for mourning ; the garment of praise An interesting 
 for the spirit of heaviness.' How are we to P reacher 
 301 
 
CONFESSIONS TO A HEATHEN IDOL 
 
 do these good works for our fellow men of 
 Hardly an which Isaiah tells us ? Is it by following our 
 
 orthodox QWn ( j ev j ous W ays, or by running along the 
 sermon 
 
 smoothly beaten track of the wisdom of 
 
 others ? Nay, nay, wisdom was never meant 
 for paving our ways ; wisdom is the final com- 
 pensation which we attain at the end of our 
 journey over the rough, unbroken paths of 
 self. "Wisdom is the highest gift of discipline. 
 Which, think you, gained most, Lazarus to 
 whom all gifts were denied or Midas whose 
 wish was fulfilled ? We know not which 
 gives us the greater discipline, to get what 
 we desire or to be denied it ; both are good if 
 thereby we gain wisdom. Even the exchange 
 of integrity for wisdom may not be a poor 
 barter for some souls, since wisdom brings a 
 wider comprehension of our fellow men, and 
 the temptations which beset them. What 
 though we lose tiie qualities which we most 
 prize, if by so doing we may be led to help 
 the fallen ! I would call no barter poor, if it 
 assured me that sympathy and understanding 
 which would permit another soul to stand 
 naked before me and say ( See me as I am. 7 
 302 
 
A FLIGHT TO THE HILLS 
 
 Greatness may come to us when we least 
 suspect it and when we feel most bitterly tfoe Greatness 
 enormity of our failures. For, how a man may come 
 must be like God, to lead another to say in W GX C ud 
 his presence l See me as I am 7 ! " 
 
 He sat down j a bumble-bee buzzed up and 
 down a pane ; through the open doors we The soul 
 heard a chipping sparrow singing like a happy ^ athed in 
 grasshopper in the lilacs, and an oriole in the 
 elms trying a bit of the Waldvogel's song in 
 Siegfried. And yet all these sounds but 
 emphasized the silence which laved the spirit 
 as does the cool waters of a wayside 
 brook, the tired and soiled feet of the way- 
 farer on dusty highways. 
 
 Aunt Sylvia arose, her pretty hair escaping 
 from her plain bonnet and curling in a most The Spirit 
 
 worldly way about her sweet face. The Spirit mooes Aunt 
 
 Sylvia 
 moved her to say : " Many among us who are 
 
 able to keep the letter of the law, suffer be- 
 cause we are not able to keep the spirit of it as 
 well. Let us beware of vain reasoning ! Tlie 
 letter of the law is meant as a guide for our 
 acts in dealing with our fellow men. The 
 spirit of the law is our own struggle for in* 
 303 
 
CONFESSIONS TO A HEATHEN IDOL 
 
 terpretation of the law to ourselves. A hair's 
 breadth lying between ' did > and i did not ' is 
 as good as all space so far as our relations to 
 others are concerned. So let us not reproach 
 ourselves that we keep only the letter of the 
 law ; if we keep it well and prayerfully, after 
 a time rebellion will cease and we shall be at 
 one with the spirit." 
 
 After she ceased speaking, Uncle Stephen 
 The Friendly arose and began the hand-shaking which in- 
 hand-shaking dicated that the mee ting was at an end. 
 
 Many came forward to greet me in the true 
 Friendly way ; among them were the friends 
 of my mother whom I had known when a 
 ' child. Finally, the stranger who had spoken 
 such extraordinary sentiments for a Friend, 
 came forward and Aunt Sylvia introduced 
 him thus : 
 
 " Marian, thee surely remembers Gerritt 
 An old Howland." I smiled involuntarily, for that 
 playmate name brought back vividly an incident 
 of my early life. Aunt Emily, who had 
 withdrawn from the Friends to join the Epis- 
 copal church, felt thereby justified in enjoy- 
 ing to a certain extent the vanities of the 
 304 
 
A FLIGHT TO THE HILLS 
 
 world. At my earnest insistence she had 
 allowed me the privilege of wearing a hoop- 
 skirt, which at that time was more or less the 
 fashion. One day when I was dressed in my 
 diminutive hoops Gerritt Howland and his 
 sister came visiting ; the latter was near my 
 own age, and Gerritt was a great overgrown 
 boy several years my senior. But he conde- 
 scended to play with us and in teaching us 
 the game of " Follow my leader," led to the 
 roof of the hen-house and leaped thence to 
 the ground. I was not to be outdone, even 
 by a big boy, and so I followed him ; but I 
 was not to the crinoline born and as I jumped 
 from the roof a huge nail in the gable caught Annoying 
 my hoops and there I hung suspended head sus P ense 
 downward, until my elders rescued me to my 
 intense mortification, and the abolishment 
 forever of hoops. Could it be that this man, 
 strong and beautiful of face, the daring 
 preacher of amazing doctrines, had developed 
 from the lively boy whose chubby face I re- 
 member so well ? He took my hand and greeted 
 me gravely, saying : 
 
 " I remember well my little playmate, and 
 305 
 
CONFESSIONS TO A HEATHEN IDOL 
 
 I am glad to meet her again." There was a 
 magnetic quality in the man that made his 
 commonplace words mean much, and his 
 clasp of my hand sent an electric thrill along 
 my arm. I could hardly wait until we were 
 on our way home to ask what could be told 
 of Gerritt Howland. Aunt Sylvia replied : 
 "It takes a great deal to teach some people 
 
 The hard just ordinary common-sense truths, and Ger- 
 school of ritt was one O f tliat sort He grew up ^3 
 
 and rebellious and finally left home and went 
 to the city. "What happened to him there 
 we never knew, but a good many years ago 
 he met with a great change of heart and 
 mind. He is doing a good work in the great 
 city i settlement 7 work people call it, but it 
 makes him cross to hear it called by that 
 name, for some reason or other. He spends 
 a part of every summer with his sister, 
 Letitia, who is a widow and lives on the old 
 homestead. He is a great help to her in 
 carrying on the place ; and he is the best 
 preacher we have had in meeting for many 
 a year." 
 
 " A man who has had to struggle for his 
 306 
 
A FLIGHT TO THE HILLS 
 upward trend, knows how to reach the souls 
 of other stragglers," I declared. Uncle 
 Stephen responded, teasingly : 
 
 " Sylvia does n't care about his faults as 
 long as he looks handsome and preaches well. Good and 
 
 The Eussians have a proverb. 'Not dear be- 
 
 and good f 
 
 cause good, but good because dear. 7 " 
 
 " Nonsense, Stephen ! Thee likes to hear 
 
 Gerritt preach as well as I do, and thee 
 
 knows thee does j he is moved to say things 
 
 which are true and interesting." 
 
 "There are two things which make a man 
 
 interesting to a woman, Sylvia ; one is for her TWO diverse 
 
 to discover in him a weakness when she knows P atJls to 
 
 woman's 
 he has great strength j the other is for her to 
 
 discover strength in him when she knows he 
 is very weak. To which class does thee claim 
 that Gerritt belongs?" asked Uncle Stephen 
 with a wicked little twinkle in his blue eyes. 
 Aunt Sylvia retorted : 
 
 "Just being interesting, anyhow, is a vir- 
 tue in this commonplace world." One virtue 
 
 "A virtue that brings its own reward ^ re f 
 
 , reward 
 
 readily.** 
 
 307 
 
CONFESSIONS TO A HEATHEN IDOL 
 
 "Stephen, thee is so exasperating," said 
 Aunt Sylvia placidly. 
 
 "I am not exasperating, I am only just," 
 he argued. 
 
 "Sympathy and charity are the upholstery 
 
 A thin of the judgment seat, Stephen ; and thee >d 
 
 cushion Better be careful or thy cushion will be very 
 
 thin," was Aunt Sylvia's last word. The 
 
 chief entertainment of the two is teasing each 
 
 other. 
 
 The gay yellow and white, many-gabled 
 cottage came in sight ; this house was Aunt 
 Emily's first venture after she withdrew from 
 the Friends. I spoke of it and Aunt Sylvia 
 said, in smiling reminiscence : 
 
 "Yes, Emily grew tired of plainness. I 
 Aunt Emily's remember perfectly her first worldly dress j it 
 dash for was a combination of brilliant green and sal- 
 mon pink and Stephen told her that she 
 looked like a lobster salad in it. And then 
 she must build this house different in form 
 and gayer in color than any other in the 
 country. It was as if all the rebellion against 
 plainness which had been tempting the family 
 for generations found expression in her. Thee 
 308 
 
A FLIGHT TO THE HILLS 
 
 remembers how passionately she loved rit- 
 ualism and no church could be too ' high ' for Too much of 
 
 her. Once mother visited Emily in the city an entertain - 
 
 ment 
 and they attended service which was very 
 
 elaborate and long ; after they returned home, 
 Emily felt very happy and triumphant and 
 asked, 'Did you ever witness anything so 
 interesting or beautiful ? 7 'Yes, Emily/ said 
 mother ' it was both interesting and beauti- 
 ful, but it was no way to spend the Sabbath. 7 " 
 "Perhaps it is because Sylvia has been able 
 to conscientiously live in a gay house which 
 she could not help inheriting, that she has 
 been able to retain Tier plain ways," said Uncle 
 Stephen mischievously. 
 
 JUNE 12TH: Little god, maybe you know 
 more about the impulses of little beings than Singed wings 
 I do ; if so I wish you would tell me why, on 
 a damp, warm night like this, the small, 
 winged creatures hurl themselves so enthusi- 
 astically into the flame of my lamp, as they 
 are doing this moment, leaving as a result of 
 the blissful holocaust nothing but a bad odor! 
 Is it not a pity that singed wings are quite as 
 309 
 
CONFESSIONS TO A HEATHEN IDOL 
 
 malodorous as other singed substances ? Some 
 Life's of these flame-loving moths, having failed to 
 
 antitheses j nc i nera te themselves in the lamp, seem wild 
 not limited to 
 
 mankind with desire to commit suicide in my ink bottle. 
 
 I wonder if it is because of disappointment in 
 not reaching the light that they choose as an 
 alternative, liquid darkness ! Life seems full of 
 antitheses, even for moths. I will close my 
 window and prevent this wild self-destruction j 
 and now they are beating their wings 
 against the glass and cannot understand what 
 deters them. One great ^noctuid flutters up 
 and down the pane, his eyes like rubies, afire 
 with desire. What good fortune for him that 
 the glass is there, although I know he hates 
 it. 
 
 What is that you say, Impertinent Idol? 
 An unkind That I ought to understand from experience 
 confessor ^ G jj an g ers o f fluttering around flame, the 
 ignominy of singed wings, and the relief to be 
 found in ink? And that I should appreciate 
 to the fullest extent the blessedness of the 
 restraining pane? I did not dream that you 
 could be so inconsiderate as to say such 
 cruel things to one who has evidently con- 
 fessed to you not wisely, but too much. 
 310 
 
CHAPTER XXVII 
 
 MARIA DISCOURSES ON WIDOWERS. GERRITT 
 HOWLAND COMES TO TEA 
 
 JUNE 13TH ; Everything here conduces to 
 cheerfulness and a wholesome attitude Maria 
 toward life. Even Maria, our hired girl, is 
 an influence in this direction j the word "girl" 
 as applied to her is purely a matter of custom 
 and has no reference to her age, for she is a 
 woman of fifty, keen and capable and of the 
 good old New England type. Her large, airy 
 kitchen with its yellow painted floor and win- 
 dows hung with white muslin curtains is one of 
 the pleasantest rooms I was ever in. I like 
 to assist her in the dish-washing, or sit in her 
 comfortably cushioned Boston rocker watch- 
 ing her deft movements while I talk with 
 her. This morning Uncle Stephen in passing 
 through the kitchen remarked on the great 
 311 
 
CONFESSIONS TO A HEATHEN IDOL 
 
 amount of rain we have had this season, and 
 Maria answered, 
 
 "We ought to be thankful ! Last year it 
 
 An was so dry here that the buckwheat was so 
 embarrassing small the bees ^^ t t downon tneir hands 
 
 crop 
 
 and knees to get the honey ; and folks talked 
 
 of lathering and shaving the fields in order to 
 harvest the crop." 
 
 Maria is very devoted to Uncle Stephen and 
 
 Widowers as said of him one day, "Stephen Southard is the 
 
 seen by Maria salt of tlie eartll? and a most re markable be- 
 
 having widower. He hain't ever looked at a 
 woman since that little, pale-faced, curly- 
 haired wife of his'n died. Now most men, just 
 as soon as they are widowers, start on the dead 
 run for the first woman that heaves into sight ; 
 they are lots different in that respect from 
 widows, who always wait and pick and choose 
 the man they want, if he 's to be had. But a 
 widower ain't no wise particular about the 
 'who,' his mind is so set on the 'what.' Land 
 sakes ! I don't wonder most married women 
 die hard ; I suppose they are thinking about 
 what spectacles their husbands will be making 
 of theirselves as soon as their eyes close and 
 312 
 
GERRITT HOWLAND COMES TO TEA 
 
 afore they fairly reach the first landing on the 
 golden stairs. If I ever get married I am 
 goin' to outlive the unfortunit man just so 
 that folks won't find out what a fool he nat- 
 urally is when he is left alone." 
 
 "I wonder that you did not get married 
 long ago, Maria ; Aunt Sylvia says you have 
 had many good chances," I said, hoping to 
 lead her on further. 
 
 "I don't know about the goodness of my 
 chances! Sometimes all it takes to make a A poor show 
 circus out of life is two fools and a ring ; and 
 I 've always been afraid it would n't be worth 
 the price of admission," quoth Maria. 
 
 JUNE 14TH : I spent this sultry afternoon 
 in the hammock in the orchard. A weak An afternoon 
 little breeze felt its way around and touched 
 my face with cool, listless fingers. The hens 
 trailed past me in Indian file, each one keep- 
 ing a suspicious eye upon me as she passed, 
 with beak open, gasping for breath. A vireo 
 in the tree above me remarked with sweet 
 garrulousness, "Wait, may-be ; wait, may- 
 be," as if I had not already had too much of 
 313 
 
CONFESSIONS TO A HEATHEN IDOL 
 
 waiting and maybes ! Two yellow butterflies 
 zigzagged down the orchard aisle and called 
 my attention to a view of the hills through 
 the vista of brown-green apple branches. 
 These hills are not great and rugged, but are 
 softened and beautified by long life. They 
 are rounded and meadowed and forested, even 
 to the high far ones which mingle with the 
 clouds that pile up, and cushion the horizon. 
 They are the kind of hills which the drifting 
 cloud-shadows love to caress. So I looked 
 at them and forgot the heat of the day and 
 the fret of existence, and my afternoon was 
 serene. 
 
 My serenity has vanished to-night for I am 
 
 CJiain physically afraid ! I wonder if thunder af- 
 
 lightning f ec ^ s your teak sensibilities unpleasantly ! I 
 
 hope not, since I must get courage from you 
 
 to face that great black cloud which walls up 
 
 the western horizon, wherein the lightning 
 
 makes jagged gates which shut with a crash 
 
 that makes the earth tremble. To be blotted 
 
 out by a thunder-bolt always seemed to me to 
 
 be an unwarrantable intrusion upon human 
 
 rights. I think I will keep awake to-night and 
 
 314 
 
GERRITT HOWLAND COMES TO TEA 
 
 watch this lightning, lest it lap me up as a cat 
 laps milk. 
 
 JUNE 15TH : Gerritt Howland and his sister 
 were invited here to-night, and it was a Company for 
 most interesting occasion. What, with all of tea 
 our many-course dinners, have we which can 
 compete with one of these old-fashioned teas : 
 grandmother's china, as thin as a wafer ; 
 beautiful old linen, polished as only Maria's 
 iron can polish ; biscuits and honey fit for the 
 gods ; ham sliced so thin it resembled rose 
 leaves, and damson preserves, delicious be 
 yond description. But even the feast was 
 not what made this evening so interesting j 
 although it did add an artistic element not to 
 be ignored, with Uncle Stephen in his fresh 
 gray linen suit at the head of the table, oppo- 
 site Aunt Sylvia arrayed in her white muslin 
 with "lavender sprigs " trailing through it. 
 After tea we sat on the piazza, Uncle 
 Stephen smoking his dear pipe and our guest 
 a cigar which suggested the city club. Gerritt 
 sat near me and in some break in the general 
 conversation I asked : 
 
 315 
 
CONFESSIONS TO A HEATHEN IDOL 
 
 " Were there ever anywhere else such east- 
 ern hills for western shadows to climb t " 
 
 " They remind me of Indian sachems around 
 a camp fire, with their heads bowed upon their 
 knees/ 7 he replied. 
 
 "Yesterday I climbed to the top of the 
 west hill and was surprised to find that this 
 eastern range looks like veritable mountains." 
 
 "One of the interesting facts about hills, as 
 An evidence well as about some other things, is that the 
 
 of having j^^ we get the higher they seem. Some- 
 attained a 
 higher plane times we may doubt our growth upward, but 
 
 if we find our horizon widening, and the world 
 in our neighborhood seeming to uplift, then 
 may we be comforted." 
 
 " I wish I had thy power of coining inner 
 experience into the currency of speech," I 
 replied enviously. 
 
 " Gerritt, she has hit the nail on the head," 
 said Uncle Stephen, who had been listening. 
 " Whatever people may say about inspiration, 
 it is chiefly the gift of speech which makes 
 the preacher." 
 
 " Uncle Stephen believes in the inalienable 
 right of asses to bray," laughed Gerrit, and 
 316 
 
GEKEITT HOWLAKD COMES TO TEA 
 
 Uncle chuckled appeciatively. Then I took 
 up the cudgels : 
 
 "After all, true speech is inspiration j a 
 silent realm stretches in limitless space The coining 
 
 around each of us ; and only through the gift f the 9 u 
 
 silence into 
 of genius is some word brought over from that speech 
 
 realm of silence to the realm of the senses. 
 The one true word is said and the millions 
 who are dumb, rejoice." 
 
 " Thee will spoil Gerritt, Marian, as all the 
 rest of us do,' 7 said Letitia fondly. 
 
 " It depends upon what a man thinks of 
 himself, and not upon what others think of what spoils 
 him, whether he can be spoiled or not," an- a man 
 swered Gerritt soberly ; then turning to me, 
 " Marian, let ? s go and climb the big gray boul- 
 der where we used to play ; perhaps it may 
 be smaller than it was in those days." 
 
 " Better go and look at the hen-house, too," 
 suggested Uncle Stephen, laughing, as we left 
 the porch. 
 
 " I wanted to talk to thee alone, Marian 
 Lee," said Gerritt as we followed the pasture A compre- 
 
 path up the hill. " I saw in thy face when I hens * ve 
 
 question 
 
 met thee on First Day, that thee has discov- 
 317 
 
CONFESSIONS TO A HEATHEN IDOL 
 
 ered for thyself what sort of a world it is that 
 lies over there beyond these hills, and I wanted 
 a chance to ask thee what were thy conclu- 
 sions." 
 
 " I found it a volcanic old ball, and have 
 spent most of my years schooling myself to 
 walk on hot lava," said I, laughing. 
 
 "And the serenity that shines from thy 
 face means simply that thee has become ac- 
 customed?" 
 
 " It is not the serenity of cold storage, if 
 that is what thee means," I answered, still 
 scoffing. "And thee, what has thee found 
 in that world beyond the hills?" 
 
 " That in it we manage somehow to do all 
 What we of the things of which we, at first, disapprove, 
 
 found in the ail( j thereby grow into great knowledge and 
 world beyond 
 
 the Mils wisdom, and learn for a certainty the reasons 
 
 for our disapproval." 
 
 " And the good of it and the bad ? " 
 queried I. 
 
 " Oh, the unhappiness of being good and 
 bad for others when we are simply being our- 
 selves ! " 
 
 " True, personal influence is an appalling 
 318 
 
GEREITT HOWLAND COMES TO TEA 
 
 mystery. It is the splash made by the peb- 
 ble, and the resulting waves may require a 
 life- time to measure," I acquiesced. 
 
 " It would surely be vastly better if we 
 could grow up without exerting influence ; Uneasy lies 
 
 and wait until we are ripe before we splash the head 
 
 that wears an 
 into other people's lives;" He turned and in-growing 
 
 looked at me earnestly, " One thing I am crown 
 sure of, thee has lived facing the world, not 
 thyself. Thine is not the uneasy head that 
 wears an in-growing crown ! " 
 
 " No, I do not spend my time dropping 
 plummets into my inner deeps. Deeps were 
 not made just for fathoming, but to sail over 
 with a fair wind. But, tell me if thee can, 
 what is all this discipline of experience for? " 
 
 " That we may finally be neither too narrow 
 to comprehend nor too broad to discrimi- 
 nate." 
 
 " If that is the end in view, I fear too 
 many of us are bowed and broken reeds. 
 Has thee discovered any good use for broken 
 reeds ? " I asked lightly. 
 
 " For Pan to pipe on if they are broken in 
 right lengths," he replied in the same vein ; 
 319 
 
CONFESSIONS TO A HEATHEN IDOL 
 
 then added more seriously, " If the tone be 
 
 The tuning of good, why need we ask what broke the reed ? 
 
 Pan-pipes Thee remem k ers j n the old grammar the 
 
 definition of a verb as signifying ( to be, to do, 
 
 to suffer > ? Reverse the order and it is a 
 
 good formula for making character. To 
 
 A verb suffer first, then, as a resource, to do all the 
 
 formula ftdngs which one can lay hands to, and then 
 
 finally, to be." 
 
 We were now standing by the boulder, and 
 he leaped to the top with his old agility, and 
 extending his hand said, merrily : 
 
 " Come up, little playmate ! " then when I 
 stood at his side he continued, almost tenderly, 
 " I cannot tell in mere words how glad I am 
 to have my playmate with me again." 
 
 " Jump me down and I will race thee back 
 to the house," I commanded, and suiting the 
 action to the word, we soon arrived at the 
 porch, flushed and breathless. 
 
 " Thee is not good any more j thee used to 
 let me beat thee down the hill," I declared 
 reproachfully. 
 
 Too true to be " I am no longer too good to be true," he 
 laughed. 
 
 320 
 
GERKITT ROWLAND COMES TO TEA 
 
 " Thee had better be careful and not be too 
 true to be good," cautioned Aunt Sylvia, fall- 
 ing in with our mood ; Gerritt glanced at me 
 appreciatively. 
 
 The remainder of the visit was pleasing in 
 every particular. Gerritt proved a mental 
 stimulus to the others as well as to myself j as 
 they were leaving he said to me so that no one 
 else heard, " I shall see thee again very soon." 
 
 I have been thinking it all over since I 
 came up to my room, and find that instead of A 
 
 being as pleased as I ought to be with such 
 
 blunder 
 an evening, I am fearful and half annoyed. 
 
 This question of sex is, in this day of social 
 complexity, a disturbing element. What a 
 pity it is, Mr. Teak-wood, that protoplasm 
 should have split, back in geologic times, and 
 thus have been obliged to climb down the lad- 
 der of the ages on two feet instead of sliding 
 down on one. If it had put all its energies into 
 roots, stems and leaves, and had avoided 
 meddling with vertebrae and souls and human 
 beings, this would have been a peaceful and 
 well-behaved planet, and a credit to the solar 
 system. 
 
 321 
 
CONFESSIONS TO A HEATHEN IDOL 
 
 All this means that I should like nothing 
 The trail of better than to be Gerritt Holland's play- 
 the serpent mate . but because I am a self-conscious 
 woman, I am obliged to think absurd, self- 
 conceited, foreboding thoughts about the 
 possibility of his falling in love with me ; I 
 am disgusted ! At the same time I know that 
 there was more in Gerritt's greeting than the 
 mere pleasure of renewing an old acquain- 
 tance. All too soon this Eden of mine will, I 
 fear, develop a serpent. However, I will not 
 worry about it. If I have stumbled upon the 
 trail of that " most subtle of all beasts," as 
 the Bible naively calls it, there is only the 
 merest tip of its tail in sight ; so I will ignore 
 it and go on with my happy forgetfulness of 
 life and its duties. 
 
 JtnsrE 16TH : Do you not think it wonderful 
 
 Through sense that I have shed all my perplexities like soiled 
 
 to spirit g armen ts 7 an( j ji ve so wholly in the present ? 
 
 All this day I have given myself over to June 
 
 and its glory without reserve. I reveled in 
 
 the fragrance of the old-fashioned cinnamon 
 
 roses which hedge one side of the lawn. The 
 
 322 
 
GEREITT HOW-LAND COMES TO TEA 
 
 green of the meadows, the blue of the sky, 
 and the blood-red petals of the great peonies 
 made me breathless with excitement. When 
 I leaned against the old sycamore by the 
 brook, and stroked the soft velvet of its trunk 
 freshly freed from bark, I had a sudden com- 
 prehension of the riotous blisses of the satyrs. 
 The songs of the bobolink, oriole and meadow- 
 lark thrilled and filled me with ecstacy. All 
 of these appeals to the senses intoxicate me ; 
 and then, by some strange alchemy, sensuous 
 joy is transmuted into spiritual strength and 
 refreshment. 
 
 JUNE I?TH : No letter has come to me until 
 to-day. I told the family not to write unless Postal 
 I was needed. So when Uncle Stephen held * ondage 
 up this letter, as he drove into the yard this 
 afternoon, I went out to get it with a reluc- 
 tance that would have surprised him if he had 
 noticed it. But my feelings were quite un- 
 necessary, for the letter is a most amusing 
 one from Joe. I suppose you will understand, 
 Wise One, that Joe means to convey to us the 
 information that Millie will have none of 
 323 
 
CONFESSIONS TO A HEATHEN IDOL 
 
 him 5 but that he has not lost courage, and 
 that, in the end, he expects to win. 
 
 DEAR MARNEB : 
 
 A June-bug has just made me a visit, and I have 
 -^ been making some interesting and illuminating 
 Coleopterous observations upon his personality and methods. I 
 always did admire the aplomb with which a June- 
 bug encounters facts. He comes sailing in through 
 the window, never doubting that the earth and all 
 thereon is his, and flies about in cheerful zig-zags, 
 proclaiming by his buzz that his path is toward the 
 light. Bang,he goes into the wall ! this is his first 
 fact, and the frankness with which he admits it is 
 beautiful to behold ; he falls backward heavily, 
 waves his legs in the air in a manful effort to right 
 himself. Then he dazedly folds his wings, tucking 
 them untidily beneath his wing-covers, and sits 
 down to think, and readjust his philosophy on a 
 new basis which shall take account of this newly 
 discovered fact. 
 
 After a few moments of contemplation he lifts one 
 A philosophy j e g high in the air, in a most derisive gesture, as 
 which ignores much as to ^y . oh pghaw ! I would not give a 
 fig for a philosophy of life that could be affected by 
 anything so sordid as a fact ! " And up he flies with 
 courage unabated and starts all over again. What 
 though he is next prostrated through loftily ignor- 
 ing the chandelier ; the result is the same. The 
 
 324 
 
GEEEITT HOWLAND COMES TO TEA 
 
 light is to him the only thing in the universe that 
 is worth while, and knocking himself senseless Tlic light the 
 against stupid obstacles is only incidental to final on ty thing 
 attainment. He knows that true victory lies in the 
 struggle rather than in the attainment and I have 
 just addressed him thus : " Oh, noble June-bug ! 
 Teach me to develop a philosophy of action which 
 shall not be weak and paltry enough to be affected 
 by facts. Teach me to fold my wings and meditate 
 calmly when I am overwhelmed and astounded by 
 the unexpected and the calamitous. Teach me to 
 pursue my way undaunted by [stunning failures. 
 Let me sit at your six feet and learn truest wis- 
 dom ! 
 
 Hope you are having a bully time, Marnissima, 
 but it is darned lonesome here without you. 
 
 Your loving 
 
 BRUDDEB. 
 P.S. 
 
 Excuse pencil. My fountain pen was profoundly j^ e ^uimn 
 affected when it discovered my plot to write to qualities of 
 you ; and it wept tears of darkness, then became 
 comatose. How like mankind is a fountain pen, 
 the emptier it is, the more it gives down ! Apho- 
 rism ! Ha ha ! Mine, ho ho ! 
 
 J. S. 
 
 JUNE 18 : Another comforting service in the 
 
 dear, plain old meeting house. Gerritt spoke 
 
 325 
 
CONFESSIONS TO A HEATHEN IDOL 
 
 even better than last week. He came home 
 The wicked with us to dinner and fitted into our quiet 
 
 tip of the Fij^t j) ay afternoon with rare tact But I 
 serpent's tail . 
 
 was too conscious of that wee tip of the ser- 
 
 pent's tail to be quite as free with him as I 
 was before j but I think he did not realize 
 that I was different in my attitude towards 
 him. 
 
 326 
 
CHAPTER XXVIII 
 
 A BEWILDERING REVELATION 
 
 JUNE 20TH: Keats calls the private 
 ideas of a man about Ms own life, his Weeding a 
 
 philosophic back garden. I went out in mine P hilos phw 
 
 lack-garden 
 to-day and pulled up a suspicion by the roots 
 
 and planted in its place a broad, humorous 
 smile. Heaven be praised for a sense of hu- 
 mor ! It helps when all else fails. 
 
 Gerritt came over this morning and invited 
 me to go for a drive in a low old phaeton 
 drawn by a stout old horse which drove her- 
 self, and would brook no interference from 
 the one who held the reins. I had qualms 
 about going with him ; but I went because I 
 did not know what else to do, my usual reason 
 for doing unwise things. 
 
 "We took the valley road j there was not 
 enough breeze to flutter the weakest-minded 
 327 
 
CONFESSIONS TO A HEATHEN IDOL 
 
 poplar leaf j the bobolinks were gurgling ec- 
 statically in the meadows, and the orioles 
 wove their gold in and out the roadside tap- 
 estries. My companion looked at me approv- 
 ingly and said : 
 
 "Marian Lee, I like to see thee in white j 
 
 Kindly that soft hat of thine looks like a bit of 
 
 treatment yonder cloud plucked from the sky, and is 
 
 vastly becoming to thee. Life has patted thy 
 
 face with gentle hands into fair roundness, 
 
 instead of writing all over it with lines of 
 
 care." 
 
 "I fear thee finds my face lacking in char- 
 acter, then,' 7 ventured I. 
 
 "By no means ; not for years have I seen a 
 face that so attracts me because of the char- 
 acter delineated in it as does thine." 
 
 " Gerritt, thee must not talk so to me j it 
 is not good for me to listen to such flattery," 
 I rejoined with some severity. 
 
 " "What an utter barrier is worldly conven- 
 The Chinese tionality," he answered with an impatient 
 
 wall of social frown> A man and a WO man may walk to- 
 cowventwns 
 
 gether arm in arm and be good friends and 
 
 yet there is between them always a Chinese 
 328 
 
A BEWILDERING REVELATION 
 
 wall that holds them forever apart. Let us 
 be brave and understand each other Marian !" 
 
 " Very well, thee begin," I replied. 
 
 " Thee is afraid of me, Marian Lee." 
 
 " No, I am not," I denied hotly. 
 
 " Yes, thee is afraid I will fall in love with 
 thee." 
 
 "I fear thee has taken leave of thy senses, 
 to talk like that," I asserted with spirit, but 
 with guilty conscience. 
 
 " Now thee is not honest," he averred, 
 looking at me grimly. 
 
 " Well, what is thee going to do about it," 
 I demanded. 
 
 " I invited thee to go with me this morn- 
 ing on purpose to tell thee something which Gerritt 
 
 will make thee honest with me and make batters th * 
 
 wall down 
 thee trust me and thyself and our relations so 
 
 that we may be happy playmates as of old." 
 " I am listening, declare the magic words," 
 
 I replied, with a bravado which the occasion 
 
 seemed to require. 
 
 "I belong heart and soul to another woman. 
 
 And though thee has a dimple in thy cheek 
 
 and wears a beguiling hat, I could not if I 
 329 
 
CONFESSIONS TO A HEATHEN IDOL 
 
 tried give thee more than a playmate's hon- 
 est admiration and affection.' 7 
 
 " I did not know thee was to be married," 
 I faltered, for his announcement took my 
 breath away, it was so unexpected. 
 
 " I shall never be married. But for twenty 
 A declaration long years I have belonged to a woman, and 
 another ^ cou ^ no mor ^ sunder the ties which bind 
 woman me to her, than could this world of ours de- 
 flect from its orbit. It is a long story, 
 Marian, and I do not mean to tell it to thee, 
 nor to any one else. She whom I love is 
 peerless, the one woman above all others to 
 those fortunate enough to know her. She is, 
 beautiful and wise and good, and so clever 
 that there is interest and fascination in her 
 least word. 
 
 " "When I first loved her I was most un- 
 The miracle worthy, but through loving her I have grown 
 of love somew ] ia t 7 1 trust. A man must have a stead- 
 fast purpose to thread his deeds upon, like 
 beads upon a string, and my purpose has been 
 to become worthy of her love which she gave 
 me unquestioningly. Her love wrought a 
 miracle in me. I stood before her with only 
 330 
 
A BEWILDERING REVELATION 
 
 a broken loaf and one little fish, and lo ! I 
 had basketfuls for the multitude." 
 
 "But why did thee not marry her 1 " I cried, 
 trying to fit his revelation to ordinary ex- 
 perience. 
 
 " There was a barrier, and we could not 
 marry j but thee must not think that it was 
 because she belonged to another man she 
 could never, under any circumstances become 
 involved in a dishonorable relation. But 
 though the barrier still holds us asunder, I 
 am happy in loving her. At first it was not 
 so ; there were years full of loneliness and, I 
 fear, recklessness ; but there came a harvest The cost of 
 after the harrowing, though I sometimes re- t G arvest 
 sented the thought that the harvest should 
 be rich when I suffered so keenly for its cul- 
 tivation. But in the end I was glad to yield 
 any harvest to a world in which she lives." 
 
 " If you still love each other, after all these 
 years, the barrier has no right to be there. If 
 I were a man in thy place I would sweep 
 that barrier out of existence unless I could 
 leap over it," I declared with heat. 
 
 "That would be unworthy, and perhaps 
 331 
 
CONFESSIONS TO A HEATHEN IDOL 
 
 not for the best," he answered thoughtfully. 
 A satisfying " The grooves of our lives are set, and I think 
 
 /cWfOttflfCclfyG 
 
 am loved and the knowledge satisfies my 
 heart. What can my material life possibly 
 have to do with my love ! If I wore upon 
 my life by chafing at its logical and natural 
 development, or by evolving sorrow where 
 there is no sorrow, then would I sin against 
 her, myself and humanity. What folly to 
 mix the distinctly independent affairs of the 
 spiritual and material worlds ! All the selfish 
 yearning and desire of my earlier years have 
 come to seem as but a tattered garment 
 which temporarily obscured what is beautiful, 
 true and everlasting." As he said this he 
 turned upon me his glowing, magnetic eyes, 
 and his face was transfigured. It is a beauti- 
 ful face, always ; but then it radiated spiritual 
 light, and looked as must the face of an 
 The face angel. While still holding me spellbound 
 
 transfiaured -n -i i j J.-L -n 
 
 ^y ' ' with his gaze, he went on in a voice of thrill- 
 ing sweetness : 
 
 " Oh, Marian Lee, I am happy every day 
 of my life ! I look at and bless the sky, be 
 332 
 
A BEWILDERING REVELATION 
 
 it blue or gray, because it holds within its 
 
 arch her whom I love, and me, loving her. Ttie paltry 
 
 I bless the earth, because somewhere it re- love f mere 
 
 propinquity 
 sponds to her footsteps. No matter how hard 
 
 the day or burdensome the care, the con- 
 sciousness of her and her love gives me cour- 
 age to go on. I lean against her love when 
 I am weary and it supports me j when I fall, 
 I reach up and lift myself again to my feet 
 by the strength of it. Those who depend 
 upon daily association for the life of love know 
 little of its true strength, or its power over 
 the human soul. If I never saw her nor 
 heard from her again, it would be just the 
 same. She and I belong to eternity and there- 
 fore must our love be eternal." 
 
 " Does thee never, never, see her? " I asked 
 breathlessly. A fleeting smile hovered about 
 his lips, as if in tender memory, and lie said 
 in a dreamy tone as if to himself : 
 
 " Every year when the lilies-of-the-valley 
 bloom, we two make a pilgrimage to a little Lflies-of-tho* 
 town nestled by a stream in a beautiful val- 
 ley, and there amid the fragrance of the ex- 
 quisite lily bells, we have one day together." 
 333 
 
CONFESSIONS TO A HEATHEN IDOL 
 
 At the mention of these fateful flowers, I 
 grew dizzy j my head and my heart were in a 
 confused whirl. Could it be this man instead 
 of Tom Carroll ? I tried to think, but I was 
 too dazed. I knew that Ma Belle had some 
 acquaintance with Gerritt Howland. I knew 
 also that, t only a short time since, she sud- 
 denly made a short visit to a friend in western 
 New York. I remembered that she had in 
 previous years made similar visits to this 
 friend ; but my knowledge of the friend and 
 the town was vague. Ma Belle has a way of 
 forefending curiosity concerning things which 
 she would rather keep secret, by making the 
 matter so smoothly commonplace that there 
 is no point upon which curiosity may im- 
 pinge. 
 
 The more clearly I was able to think about 
 
 A breathless it all, the firmer became the conviction that 
 
 discovery ^^ man was -^ i over? and w h a t s h e had said 
 
 about my acquaintance with him was the 
 simple truth and not a shining lie. And yet, 
 so utterly had I given myself over to the be- 
 lief that Tom belonged to her in the truest, 
 deepest way that I could not at once divest 
 334 
 
A BEWILDERING REVELATION 
 myself of it. I was incoherent and mostly 
 silent during the remainder of the drive, but A tangent 
 I slipped my hand into Gerritt's alongside wnpatty 
 the rein, and thus showed him my sympathy 
 and trust. As I left him I said : 
 
 " I thank thee, Gerritt, for telling me this, 
 and I honor thee with all my heart and soul." 
 
 "Thank thee, playmate,' 7 he replied. "I 
 am glad I have won thee back again, though 
 I had to show thee my scars to accomplish it." 
 
 " Yes, and I have to-day discovered that a 
 halo may emanate from scars that shine," I Scars that 
 said softly, and we bade each other good-bye shine 
 with a long, warm hand-clasp. 
 
 When I went into the house, I wished to 
 escape from sight in order to think it all over 
 and try to realize what it all meant to me, 
 but Aunt Sylvia called me upstairs to the 
 garret where she was overhauling trunks. 
 She had found there a pretty pink muslin 
 dress of Aunt Emily's, which was made in a 
 fashion very like that in vogue at the present 
 time ; she was quite excited over her find and 
 insisted on trying it on me at once ; I was A gratuitous 
 grateful that her attention was focussed on a 
 335 
 
CONFESSIONS TO A HEATHEN IDOL 
 
 pink dress rather than on a pink face, for I 
 somehow felt as guilty as if Gerritt Howland 
 had confessed the love which I feared he 
 would, instead of the love which I never sus- 
 pected. Aunt Sylvia attributed the flush in 
 my cheeks to the becoming color of the dress ; 
 she declared the fit perfect and that Maria 
 should launder this treasure trove at once so 
 that I could wear it during my visit. She 
 did not need to explain how it was that rose- 
 A Friendly colored garb should please Quaker eyes. I 
 weakness a i wa y S k new that Aunt Emily's worldly gowns 
 were as great a delight to Aunt Sylvia as they 
 were to the owner. 
 
CHAPTER XXIX 
 
 SOME VERY SATISFACTORY LETTERS 
 
 JUNE 21ST : Dear Idol, three letters came 
 to-day, each quite characteristic of its 
 writer, and all of them giving evidence that 
 my flight to this delectable land was for the 
 good of others as well as for my own spiritual 
 refreshment. Even Joe and father may profit 
 somewhat by my absence since I can make 
 them happier than ever when I return to 
 them; my perplexities for the past months 
 have alienated my attention from my very 
 own family. Here is Joe's letter : 
 
 DEAR MARNIE : 
 
 The June-bug tactics are winning the game. 
 Millie has not said * yes ' as yet ; but her ' no is 
 reiterated diminuendo. She is surely capitulating, 
 after having spread a stiff brand of agony over 
 yours truly for the past three months. 
 337 
 
CONFESSIONS TO A HEATHEN IDOL 
 
 If you stay away very much longer, the pater 
 and I will both get married or else take to the tall 
 grass ; we need feminine influence to brace us up. 
 If there is any way in which I can stimulate your 
 interest in your forlorn men-folk, just let me know 
 and I will be at ifc. 
 
 Your loving, lonesome 
 
 JOSEPH STILLMAN, ESQ. 
 
 I confess I dreaded to open the letter from 
 
 Not even a Theodore Morris j when one buries some 
 
 gravestone fl^Dgs, one would rather that the earth were 
 
 stamped down above them, and that there 
 
 should never be any sign of them anywhere 
 
 or any more. On the whole, though, the 
 
 letter is a relief ; I think you will see why. 
 
 MARIAN: 
 
 Since your letter came I have been trying to 
 realize what it means. That I have failed in gain- 
 ing the greatest desire of my life must be some- 
 how my own fault. I felt so sure of winning 
 you at first ; later, I grew to doubt myself and my 
 power to make you happy. 
 
 Had you been here, I might have pleaded with 
 A far more you to give me more time before you decided. 
 satisfactory But after these days of thinking it over, I believe 
 friend than l Qwe it to to accept your decision as final. 
 
 lover , , 
 
 Do not stay away on my account. Come back 
 
 338 
 
SOME VERY SATISFACTORY LETTERS 
 
 soon and I will promise to be to you a more suc- 
 cessful and satisfactory friend than I have been 
 lover. Yours faithfully, 
 
 THEODORE. 
 
 I think this letter shows plainly that he is 
 conscious of his feelings toward Hilda, and Happiness 
 
 that he has been fighting them down because ^ tlie 
 
 horizon 
 of loyalty to me. Hilda's letter confirms this 
 
 impression, and I think you will agree with 
 me that the near future holds great happiness 
 for her ; she says : 
 
 DEARLY BELOVED : 
 
 I venture to break in on your rest with the 
 statement that we are desolate without you. I 
 went over to your house last evening ; your pa's 
 hair was standing on end because he had been run- 
 ning his fingers through it trying to think up means 
 of placating Maggie and Mary who had been 
 quarrelling ; he was wearing his dressing gown 
 down stairs and had been having interviews with 
 students while thus arrayed. Cigar ashes were 
 liberally distributed over the study table. 'Joe 
 was smoking with his heels elevated to the top 
 of your best mahogany chair; and both allowed 
 that you had best come home immediately if you 
 would prevent the complete demoralization of your 
 entire establishment. 
 
 339 
 
CONFESSIONS TO A HEATHEN IDOL 
 
 If you could see the forlorn way your devoted 
 
 Hilda knight, Mr. Morris, prowls around, you would feel 
 
 elucidates a tug at your heart strings, if perchance your heart 
 
 the situation has any strin g g attached to it. I am doing my 
 
 prettiest to console him; yesterday I took him for 
 
 a long walk over South hill. He is a sympathetic 
 
 chap to be out of doors with, is n't he ? We are 
 
 practicing like mad almost every evening on some 
 
 new music, so that we may give you the concert of 
 
 your life when you get back. I talk to him about 
 
 A very you, making praiseful and therefore unveracious 
 
 discreet remarks anent your appearance and character, and 
 
 young m n ^ e answers not one word. He simply looks far 
 
 away, and says nothing. 
 
 I hope you are having a beautiful time, and that 
 you are getting the much-needed rest. I trust you 
 will come back to us soon with verve radiating like 
 a nimbus from your blessed person. 
 
 Devotedly and lovingly, 
 
 HILDA. 
 
 Most Discreet of Confessors ! I will admit 
 that the way T. M. has of never speaking of 
 his own private experiences is a comfort to 
 me now. I blush with contrition when I 
 remember how I once complained to you 
 about his steadfast defence of his own pre- 
 serves. I know now, and I rejoice that I do 
 340 
 
SOME VEKY SATISFACTORY LETTERS 
 
 know, that lie will never by word nor sign re- 
 veal to Hilda the experience which lies be- 
 tween him and me. His lips are clamped 
 tight for all eternity. Heaven be praised ! 
 
 Some men, usually reliable, are led in the 
 first flush of loving, to talk freely of past loves Hi-advised 
 for the sake of the last love ; not so much for con fi d < 
 her edification as for the comfort of talking 
 about intimate things with her. Rarely does 
 such confession justify itself, or lead to aught 
 but the later undoing of him who confesses. 
 If he does not marry the woman to whom he 
 has detailed these intimate experiences, he 
 has reason to be sorry that she knows so 
 much ; and if he does marry her, then all the 
 more does he have reason to be sorry that she 
 knows so much. 
 
 Women are still more prone than men to 
 break this seal of secrecy which the honorable Men, uneasy 
 would seem bound to keep intact, since such con f es$ors 
 confessions always involve two. Fortunately, 
 women have been more or less protected from 
 this temptation to treason, because of the reluc- 
 tance of men to become their confessors. 
 Nothing bores a man so much as to listen to 
 341 
 
CONFESSIONS TO A HEATHEN IDOL 
 
 a woman talk about a love of which, he him- 
 self is not the sole object. 
 
 JUNE 22D: This evening after Aunt and 
 Uncle had gone to call on a convalescing 
 neighbor, Gerritt Howland came. His face 
 was more eloquent than ever as I gave him 
 both my hands in greeting ; for I was very 
 glad to see him, since I had come to the 
 determination to tell him what I knew. So 
 with a little catch in my breath because of 
 my excitement and temerity, I began with- 
 out preface or warning. 
 
 "Gerritt, I know who she is ; only a little 
 
 In medias res time ago she told me her side of the story for 
 the sake of helping me in 'a crisis of my own 
 life. I was so stupid the other day, not to 
 know that it was she when thee was telling 
 me of her, for every word thee said of her 
 was true." 
 
 "Yes, Marian, I knew it," he answered with 
 
 A mutual love an illuminating smile. "I did not speak to 
 
 thee of her wonderful letters which come to 
 
 me every month of the year, keeping me close 
 
 to her life and giving me the sustaining com- 
 
 342 
 
SOME VERY SATISFACTORY LETTERS 
 
 fort which I need in my arduous work with 
 my fellow-men. Her last letter told me of 
 her confession to thee j and I was very glad, 
 for I think it will be a comfort to her to speak 
 of her inner life to thee whom she loves more 
 than any other woman." 
 
 "I can understand now how true was all 
 thee said yesterday ; for it would mean more Hidden 
 to any man to be truly loved by her than it 
 would to be married to any other woman in 
 the whole world. I have no words to express 
 my own adoration of her. It almost makes 
 my heart stop beating when I think of what 
 thee and thy love have meant to her all these 
 years. I have always felt that she drew her 
 life from hidden springs, and now I am be- 
 ginning to comprehend." 
 
 A silence full of feeling fell, not between us 
 but encompassing us around and holding us 
 near to each other because both our hearts 
 were turned toward her. After a time I went 
 on, hesitatingly, fearing lest I might not be 
 saying the right word : 
 
 "I believe that she needs thee and needs 
 thy presence more during these later years 
 343 
 
CONFESSIONS TO A HEATHEN IDOL 
 
 since she has not been so strong. I feel this 
 
 A deep-laid deeply as I look back over the past year in 
 
 scheme j. ne light of my new knowledge. And I have 
 
 dared to dream during the past twenty-four 
 
 hours, that, through me, she may have thee 
 
 with her more. Thee shall often be my guest ? 
 
 if I can have my way, and thus give her more 
 
 of the companionship for which I know she 
 
 yearns." 
 
 " We shall see, dear little schemer, we shall 
 see ! " he replied tenderly, though enigmati- 
 cally. And then the sound of approaching 
 Toices told us that our talk was at an end. 
 
 344 
 
CHAPTER XXX 
 
 THE DAWN OP A JUNE DAY AND A LAST 
 CONFESSION 
 
 JUNE 23D : To-day came another letter! 
 However many times I read it, I cannot 
 comprehend all it means. Teach me, I pray 
 yon, its reality. 
 
 MABIAN: 
 
 Last evening I spent with Madam Lee and she 
 told me something which has shaken me to the His letter 
 foundation. That you should seriously consider 
 marrying again is almost beyond my powers of 
 conception. That you should hesitate a moment 
 in giving his conge to this presuming young Apollo 
 (confound him!) gave me the shock of my life. 
 
 Marian, I fear I have been blind and a fool; but 
 thanks to Madam Lee, I am just beginning to see. 
 I fear I have always loved you, dear, since those 
 days when you, a poor little broken-hearted 
 creature turned to me for help and comfort. I will 
 speak plainly Marian, at the risk of hurting 
 345 
 
CONFESSIONS TO A HEATHEN IDOL 
 
 you: I was Paul's dearest friend; and, because he 
 was dead, I could not feel that I had any more 
 right to win the love of his wife than if he had been 
 living. 
 
 During all these years I have lived on, taking 
 A sacrifice to only what I thought was right from his mother 
 loyalty an( j bi s wife, giving up the dearest wish of a man's 
 heart for wife and home, because I could not give 
 to another what I might not give to you. Some- 
 times I have felt in you the possibility of giving to 
 me what I longed for; at such times I have fought for 
 self-control and there have been days and weeks 
 when I remained away from you in order to get 
 strength to be with you again without betraying 
 myself and him. 
 
 Last night, Paul's mother brought me to judg- 
 Ulies-of-the- ment. She believes I have done you wrong be- 
 v alley cause I have not offered to you the love which is 
 yours despite myself, and the protection and 
 devotion which I long to give you. Dear, I do 
 not even remember how long I have consciously 
 loved you thus ; but there is in my desk a withered 
 bunch of flowers tied with a purple ribbon, which 
 you wore one night fifteen years ago, and which 
 fell at my feet for me to treasure because it had 
 been so near to you. 
 
 That you have looked upon the matter very 
 differently and probably more sanely than have I, 
 is shown by the fact that you have considered the 
 346 
 
A LAST CONFESSION 
 
 possibility of marrying again. Marian, do you not 
 know in your heart of hearts that you belong to 
 me now ? You are mine by all that is sacred by 
 all the denied longing of these many years. My 
 ^eart demands you every moment, and I am 
 coming to you to give to you, if you will deign to 
 take him, the man who has done you wrong while 
 trying to do right. 
 
 T. L. O. 
 
 My Confessor, how am I to orient myself 
 again with happiness ? For many years I Too great 
 have stanchly faced loss and loneliness but MRP*** 
 I find myself afraid and bewildered in the 
 presence of great joy. I cannot even dream 
 what to-morrow will bring. 
 
 JUNE 24TH : Last night I slept only spas- 
 modically. I heard the shriek of the midnight Couleur de 
 train from the city and it sent a thrill quaver- r 
 ing into my fitful dream. This morning I 
 heard the first notes of the bird concert and I 
 arose and plaited my hair, girl-fashion and 
 tied it with a rose-red ribbon ; and I put on 
 the rose-colored dress which was Aunt 
 Emily's. There was no hue but couleur de rose 
 347 
 
CONFESSIONS TO A HEATHEN IDOL 
 
 that was fitting to wear at the dawn of this 
 morning. 
 
 I stole out of the house, across the dewless 
 The grass and hurried down the road in the dim 
 dawn-wind light. I was restless and found sweet com- 
 panionship in the dawn-wind, which is 
 different from any other wind that blows. 
 It comes in the faint light of the morning 
 when the world is so expectantly still, and by 
 its presence heralds the coming of the day. 
 It does not stir the branches, but it sets the 
 leaves astir. It is the very essence of unrest ; 
 it goes in and out the leaves turning them 
 white-side out as if in search of something 
 beneath them. It is fitful, shaking one tree 
 into a blur of whiteness and ignoring its 
 nearest neighbors. The sound of it is a 
 whisper of restlessness j and as it reaches the 
 ear, the heart responds with a thrill of 
 inquietude over the immutable law of 
 awakening. 
 
 I passed on with this companion of my mood, 
 
 the vagrant dawn -wind, and tried to unite 
 
 myself to the whole awakening world, so that 
 
 I might be large enough to comprehend the 
 
 348 
 
A LAST CONFESSION 
 
 joy which was coming to me. Was it your 
 occult influence, or sheer prescience that sent 
 me hurrying on eager feet, under the rosy 
 light of the dawn, to meet my love f I know 
 not ; but out of the fleeing shadows he came, 
 and as he drew near he cried : 
 
 " Is it a vision of a dream or is it Marian ! " 
 I said naught, but went unto him j and 
 while he held me close, he let his heart over- Tte dawn 
 flow in two syllables, the beginning words on 
 the page of my new book of life. 
 
 JUNE 25TH : Dear Idol, I confess in meter 
 to-night. 
 
 I fain would be June's own interpreter, 
 
 And put in words the soul that underlies jwu 
 
 The glorious green that stretches to the skies, regnant 
 
 Enfolding hill and vale as if it were 
 
 A sentient mantle, wove from threads astir 
 
 With throbbing life. 'T is June which deifies 
 
 All earth and makes us Pantheists, likewise 
 
 Awakes the poet in each worshipper. 
 
 O glinting leaf with vagrant breeze atilt ! 
 Thy joyous thrill I fain would incarnate. 
 349 
 
CONFESSIONS TO A HEATHEN IDOL 
 
 O swaying bird that sends the blithe June lilt 
 From tip of fine-spun larch ! show me the gate 
 Which leads from heart to voice. Teach an thou 
 
 wilt 
 How I may too great joy to song translate. 
 
 SEPTEMBER IST, 1906 : One year ago to-day 
 
 An ambushed I began my confessions to you, O Idol ! And 
 
 pathway nQ Qne WOI Q ( J ever guess by looking at 
 
 the two of us that we had traversed so in- 
 timately, together the year's ambushed path- 
 way. And now despite my former tenet that 
 Noah's fatuity was responsible for second 
 marriages, I am married again. But you, 
 above all others, Dear Confessor, will under- 
 stand that getting married to Tom is quite 
 a different matter from getting married to 
 anybody else whomsoever. Probably, taking 
 matters by and large, Old Noah was justified. 
 This day I make my last confession to you. 
 A last I feel that before I abandon you, I should like 
 confession ^ Q tell vou t kat love is widely and deeply 
 comfortable when one knows how to take it. 
 The noblesse oblige of it is not hard outside 
 pressure, but is instead, an inside power of 
 350 
 
A LAST CONFESSION 
 
 growing a natural and therefore an uncon- 
 scious uplifting. 
 
 I do not cease my confessions because I 
 believe that I shall have nothing of deepest The reason a 
 
 interest to confess. Far from it ! Married wife need8 
 
 confessor 
 life is always the beginning and not the end 
 
 of interesting and perplexing experiences. 
 But let me whisper something to you, Wise 
 One : "When a woman is married she confesses 
 to no one, not even to a broad-minded teak- 
 wood idol. The right kind of a wife never 
 confesses even to herself. That is a funda- 
 mental part of true marriage never con- 
 fessing. You may see with those uplifted 
 eyes of yours what you will of my present all- 
 embracing happiness, or of my future efforts 
 to keep it intact. See what you may, and set 
 me a good example by smiling on and on des- 
 pite inner pangs 5 and above all remember 
 this, my last word to you : Life with all its Why life is so 
 
 blisses and sorrows, its ecstasies and common- 
 
 good 
 places is mightily worth while to us mortals, 
 
 because, bad or good, it is ever and always so 
 surprisingly interesting. 
 
 351 
 
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