GIFT OF 
 Elisabeth Whitney Putna 
 

 
 7 
 
BALLANTYNE 
 
 TK*~^ /r^vv 
 
BALLANTTNE 
 
 A NOVEL 
 By HELEN CAMPBELL 
 
 Author of " Prisoners of Poverty," "Mrs. Herndon s 
 
 Income," " Women Wage- Earners," "Under 
 
 Green Apple Boughs," etc. 
 
 BOSTON LITTLE, BROWN 
 AND COMPANY MDCCCCI 
 
COPYRIGHT, 1901, BY LITTLE, 
 BROWN, AND COMPANY 
 
 UNIVERSITY PRESS JOHN WILSON 
 AND SON CAMBRIDGE, U.S.A. 
 
To Paulina 
 
 Critic, Helper, and friend 
 Well Beloved 
 
 THIS BOOK 
 
 412435 
 
B ALLANTYN E 
 
 Book I 
 
 Chapter First 
 
 OF the ninety-three Americans who made 
 the late March passage from Boston 
 to Liverpool, in a year still recent, not 
 one stepped upon English soil with so 
 strong a sense of familiar proprietorship as Marion 
 Lacy, Boston born, Boston bred, and with distinct 
 and lifelong appreciation of her birthright and what 
 it involved. Nantucket, it is true, claimed the father 
 and Plymouth the mother; but Boston has always 
 admitted that these two names stand for perhaps 
 as valuable and coherent a background as her own, 
 and yields deference accordingly, the three as one 
 in inheritance and tradition. 
 
 To Marion it had meant always rather an embar 
 rassment of riches, for the two old houses opened 
 their doors every summer, each so full of attractions 
 that choice seemed impossible. What could be 
 more fascinating to a child, or for that matter to 
 anybody, than the quaint houses of the old island, 
 filled with strange spoils from many lands, presided 
 over by gray-headed, almost barnacled, sea captains, 
 who still went up daily to the " walks " built about 
 
 i 
 
2/ \: ):.: BALL ANT YNE 
 
 the cluster of chimneys on each roof of the roomy 
 old dwellings, and swept the horizon for ships that 
 long ago had made for other harbors ? 
 
 Often Marion followed, lost in dreams of the 
 dead and gone ancestors, matron and maid, who 
 from the same " walks " had read every sign of wind 
 and wave, and waited, as sailors wives and sweet 
 hearts must, for many a ship that never came home. 
 There they were now, all of them, in the little grave 
 yard on the windy hill, where the curls so blew into 
 her eyes that it was hard to spell out the names on 
 the crumbling headstones, chief among them that 
 of old Peter Folger, surveyor, architect, school-master, 
 lay-preacher, and poet, this last in such fashion only 
 as Puritan limitations admitted. 
 
 In the bookcase in her grandfather s room, owned 
 by his father before him, Marion had found the little 
 volume, once famous, the burst of manly, valiant, 
 ungrammatical doggerel, " A Looking-Glass for the 
 Times," in which the " plain speaker " sent out from 
 the remote and mist-encircled island a voice whose 
 plea for spiritual freedom still sounds clear and strong 
 as many a voice that has followed. Standing in the 
 big wooden chair to bring herself on a level with the 
 shelf which held this and other treasures of the same 
 order, the small Marion, with infinite trouble from 
 the long s s, spelled out the verses, which fastened 
 themselves in her memory, and which she repeated 
 with the deep conviction that not Washington him 
 self had quite the same claim to distinction. 
 
B A LLANTYNE 
 
 " I am for peace and not for war, 
 
 And that s the reason why 
 I write more plain than some men do, 
 
 That used to dawb and lie. 
 But I shall cease and set my name 
 
 To what I now insert. 
 
 * Because to be a libeller, 
 
 I hate with all my heart. 
 From Sherborn town where now I dwell, 
 
 My name I do put here, 
 Without offence, your real friend, 
 
 It is Peter Folger." 
 
 Grandfather had explained it carefully, never 
 amazed at any form of question from this child, 
 whose deep blue eyes held more questions than 
 smiles, and who listened with grave consideration, 
 nodding approval at the end. 
 
 " It means, then, that people should be allowed to 
 think what they please and not be meddled with," 
 she said, when the story ended ; and Grandfather Lacy, 
 quite unmindful of consequences, had said, " Cer 
 tainly, child, certainly," and gone his way to the 
 " Captain s Room " and his morning pipe with the 
 old salts who met there daily to smoke and drink a 
 quiet glass and tell strange tales of whaling days, as 
 remote now as the Crusades or the search for the 
 Golden Fleece. 
 
 Up by the old windmill Marion thought it all over, 
 singing the quaint words to a tune of her own, and 
 wondering how the rhymer looked and what people 
 
BALLANTYNE 
 
 said to him, and planning for more questions when 
 the time came. 
 
 "I wish Peter Folger were alive now," she said 
 next morning when alone with grandfather ; u because 
 he would understand, and he would n t be afraid to 
 say he did." 
 
 Grandfather winced. His own subjection to Aunt 
 Priscilla was plain. 
 
 " Are there any sons ? " she went on. " Because 
 if there are, when I am big enough I want to marry 
 one of them." 
 
 " Sho ! " said grandfather, hastily, stifling a chuckle. 
 " That is n t the way for little girls to talk. Sons 
 don t take after their fathers. It s the mothers mostly 
 that seem to have it their own way, and the men you 
 hear about are not the sons of famous fathers. When 
 your time comes, my pet, you 11 have to look out for 
 somebody with a sensible mother. That s where 
 your great men lose their bearings and get on a sand 
 bar." 
 
 " Then I must look for Peter Folger s daughter s 
 son," said Marion, after a pause for consideration. 
 " Because it must be somebody that will understand, 
 like you, grandfather, and that will not wonder all the 
 time at things that are not wondering things at all. 
 Does anybody ever let people alone, and let them do 
 things, without saying, What makes you do so ? 
 People always say, What does make you do so, 
 Marion ? to me." 
 
 "That s different," said Aunt Priscilla, who had 
 
B A LLANTYN E 
 
 entered in time for these words, and who sent a look 
 of reproof toward the old captain, who returned it 
 with a certain defiance, but made haste to escape 
 silently, long experience having taught him not to 
 argue with Priscilla, who had reigned here undisputed 
 quite forty years. But Marion waited for him when 
 he came home, and took her place between his knees. 
 " The Pilgrims were only foreigners, you see," she 
 went on, as if no break had come. " And Peter Fol- 
 ger was a Pilgrim, so he was a foreigner, too." 
 
 "What!" shouted Grandfather Lacy, with the 
 voice of a trumpet. Marion started, but held her 
 ground. 
 
 " I don t mean he landed on the Rock," she went 
 on undaunted, while grandfather ruffled up his shock 
 of white hair and looked at her speechless. " Because 
 he did n t, you know. But you said he came over a 
 while after, and so of course he was an Englishman, 
 and how could he turn into an American ? I don t 
 see why we re not all foreigners, because you can t 
 stop being what you were born, just because you go 
 somewhere else." 
 
 " Great Scott ! the child is arguing like a lawyer ! " 
 said grandfather under his breath, still looking at her 
 with fascinated attention. 
 
 "Then we re all English yet," pursued Marion, 
 taking the look for agreement. 
 
 " English ! " roared grandfather, coming to his 
 senses. " When we went through two wars and 
 buried our best, to get rid of English tyranny ! When 
 
B ALLAN TYNE 
 
 the Pilgrims fled away to get to a spot where there 
 might be free speech, and freedom to worship God, 
 and England persecuted every man that had a 
 thought in his head ! What do you mean, child ? 
 Don t you know that where you are born is your 
 country, <and that you and four generations before 
 you were born on American soil ? Don t talk any 
 more nonsense about being English." 
 
 " But we must be," persisted Marion. " Why 
 can t I say that I m English, that got born over here, 
 but that England is home ? " 
 
 Grandfather gasped, struck his cane on the floor, 
 rose up and then suddenly sat down again, a strange 
 look coming over his face. For the moment he 
 
 o 
 
 seemed to see his mother, her quiet face framed in 
 the Quaker cap, and the same deep blue eyes that 
 looked at him now under Marion s fair forehead fixed 
 upon him, and heard her say : " Thee will come to it, 
 my son, and some day thee will know that mankind 
 is one brotherhood, and England or America, black or 
 white, it is all the same." 
 
 " Go your way, child," he said at last. u It s all 
 the same in the end, I suppose ; only don t you for 
 get that this is your country, and your fathers died 
 for it. I hope that s not treason," he added, as he 
 took down his hat. " What s a man to do when 
 he s between two fires ? " 
 
 It was fortunate that Aunt Priscilla called them to 
 supper, looking suspiciously at both, since grandfather 
 was hardly less a child than Marion. This had 
 
B ALLANTYNE 
 
 always been her attitude. The oldest of seven, 
 Gardiner Lacy, the father of Marion, being the 
 youngest, it was quite natural that she should 
 think of him in the same way, as a child with small 
 capacity for dealing with the present mystery, also a 
 child, but with strange, inexplicable ways. 
 
 There was no hint of her father s childhood in one 
 point in Marion, since she preferred clean hands to 
 dirty, and no matter where her expeditions led her, 
 on land at least, came home unsoiled and untorn. 
 There were two Marions evidently, one of whom 
 rejoiced in a high wind and ran recklessly before it, 
 singing scraps of all the poetry she had ever learned 
 and dancing like mad in secret places, as the back of 
 the barn or down in some hollow of the sheep-walks. 
 This was the Marion who knew every odd corner 
 in town, and had perched on the knees of every old 
 captain, drinking in tales limitless in length and 
 invention, or who, privately encouraged by grand 
 father, learned at six to row, and went out in blue- 
 fish boats, in any sort of weather, indifferent to the 
 wash of waves or anything that wind or storm might 
 bring. The other took silently all exhortations to 
 better methods and such phases of discipline as 
 seemed good to the much perplexed mind of Aunt 
 Priscilla, who in the two months of summer labored to 
 instil New England methods with a zeal bordering on 
 fatuity, devoting the other ten to meditation on how 
 finally to accomplish her end. 
 
 Marion s affection was given to her grandfather, to 
 
8 B ALLANTYNE 
 
 whom she listened with a faith that warmed his soul ; 
 but Aunt Priscilla she had never loved, regarding her 
 chiefly as an obstacle and making no further effort 
 toward comprehension. In fact, womankind as a 
 whole stood for obstruction. Nantucket began it; 
 but Nantucket was, after all, a good deal under the 
 jurisdiction of grandfather, who, whatever he might 
 feel called upon to say, gave practically unconditional 
 liberty. 
 
 This for June and July ; but when they had ended, 
 August and September were still to come, and 
 August and September meant Plymouth and the still 
 old house where no child had ever played, and every 
 thing had been in the same place at least a hundred 
 years. 
 
 Here dwelt Grandmother Barstow, tall and dark 
 and silent, who had brought up Marion s mother in 
 minute observance of the New England decalogue, 
 and who could never be induced to follow her to 
 Boston, or do more than make a yearly visit at the 
 time of the May meetings. Plymouth contented her, 
 nor could she see why desire should go beyond it ; 
 and thus she returned always after her month in 
 Boston with a feeling of deep relief. 
 
 At home the day divided itself naturally ; and 
 Dilly, the old servant, brought up under her own 
 teaching, conformed so far as the natural exuberance 
 of the African temperament allowed, and regarded 
 her position as of a dignity beyond the comprehension 
 of any one not born in Plymouth. To Marion, in 
 
BALLANTYNE 
 
 her first years there, it was not quite plain whether 
 Dilly herself had landed on Plymouth Rock or merely 
 been there as guide and general counsellor when the 
 Pilgrims appeared. The pewter platters of that first 
 generation still stood on the dresser ; the old sideboard 
 held tankards as old ; and the whole house, with its 
 mingling of spoils from all countries, seemed made for 
 story, and to promise a revelation from every corner. 
 
 It was Dilly who made life tolerable at Plymouth, 
 since Grandmother Barstow had not only the theories 
 of Aunt Priscilla, but much more power to carry 
 them out; and Marion did her lessons and a stent 
 of patchwork, deeply loathed but impossible to evade, 
 before escape came to the old garden or the big barn. 
 There were no children to play with none, that is, 
 within the range of Grandmother Barstow s theories, 
 since there were neither young men nor maidens left, 
 the West having swallowed them all. The doctor 
 and the judge came once a week to play whist ; the 
 judge with a light-minded old wife who wore pink 
 ribbons on her cap and a row of little curls on each 
 side of her pretty old face, and on one never-to-be- 
 forgotten afternoon, when Marion and her grand 
 mother had been invited to tea, danced down the 
 long parlor, to show Marion how she had opened the 
 governor s ball with the governor himself, quite fifty 
 years ago. 
 
 Here there was neither rowing nor running wild, 
 since Grandmother Barstow followed every move 
 ment, and free action extended only to garden and 
 
io BALLANTYNE 
 
 barn, with permission now and then for the shore, 
 and no loophole for climbing on rocks or any search 
 for shore treasures. Even her father had no power 
 here, though to both Plymouth grandmother and Nan- 
 tucket grandfather the same formula was written : 
 " Leave Marion to herself in all ways where it does 
 not conflict with submission to the general order of 
 the house." 
 
 In this last clause lay the only loophole of retreat. 
 The "general order," for Plymouth, was inflexible 
 and covered all emergencies of life, and the work of 
 the eight months of Boston license must also, as far as 
 possible, be undone in the two in which her theories 
 had no combatant save Marion s silent protest. 
 
 For Boston was a life no less distinct and apart 
 from ordinary experience. Gardiner Lacy, after Har 
 vard and the Law School were left, had gone into 
 practice with an old friend of his father s, a silent 
 and absorbed bachelor for whom the boy had been 
 named, and who, dying a few years later, left him his 
 fortune and an old house on Pinckney Street. Here 
 the young man had gone at once, bringing there in 
 time the delicate young wife, frail as one of the wind- 
 flowers of her own Cape, her silent and repressed 
 childhood having given no store of vitality for any 
 later needs of living. 
 
 To her husband, absolutely content and with small 
 knowledge of other women, her weakness seemed 
 quite in the order of things ; nor did he question, till 
 brought face to face with the fact, that such strength 
 
BALLANTYNE n 
 
 as she had had been spent in giving life to the baby, 
 just old enough now to put out tiny arms and demand 
 the attention, which he gave with a curious deference, 
 as if already there were right to claim it. Nothing 
 could avert the slow-coming death. For months he 
 travelled with her, in vain search of health, bringing 
 her back at last to the old house for which she longed 
 steadily ; and there, when Marion was barely two 
 years old, she died. 
 
 From the beginning the baby had been and re 
 mained the charge of a vigorous young English 
 nurse, who had already served her apprenticeship at 
 home, and, brought up in the simple methods that 
 give strength and sturdiness to English children, bade 
 fair to escape any inherited evil tendencies. A house 
 keeper, also English, a woman in middle life, brought 
 over by Mr. Lacy on one of his return trips from 
 abroad, administered all household matters, and the 
 home settled into fixed lines, the father dining alone, 
 but having the child brought in with dessert, and fall 
 ing at last into an almost undeviating routine. 
 
 With summer came the only break. Then, with 
 a vague consciousness that his habits were very un- 
 American, and must as far as necessary be counter 
 acted, Marion was sent for two months each to the 
 old houses ; at first with her nurse, but on Aunt Pris- 
 cilla s remonstrance, quite alone, that she might learn 
 self-reliance. For himself, lest he should be tempted 
 to interfere, he went abroad the last of June, and came 
 home the last of September, having first seen Marion 
 
12 B A LL A NTYN E 
 
 safely settled at Nantucket, always with the promise 
 that as soon as old enough she should go with him. 
 
 The same curious deference that had followed her 
 babyhood remained part of her childhood also. They 
 were companions, since, from the time she could lift 
 the tea-pot, Marion in a high-chair presided at the 
 breakfast table eating her own bowl of porridge and 
 milk, with contented acceptance of the fact that 
 grown-up people had things it was quite right to 
 deny to children. 
 
 A student in many lines outside his profession, the 
 father s home life was chiefly in the great library built 
 out at the back of the house and lined with tall book 
 cases, where Marion had liberty to work her own 
 will. A governess came three hours a day. There 
 was no school, for he did not believe in the forcing 
 system. Marion had her own table and chair in one 
 corner, and sat there in the evening till bedtime, lost 
 in her books, save at moments when she looked up to 
 find her father s eye upon her, and exchanged the 
 smile which testified to good fellowship. Sometimes 
 he pushed away the book and stretched out his hand ; 
 and then she stood between his knees and told him 
 of her day, and asked him grave questions about his ; 
 and sometimes, pacing up and down the room, the 
 small Marion, with hands clasped like his behind her, 
 kept by his side and listened to ballad or sonnet or 
 whatever came to his mind, adding her own contri 
 bution and laying in great store to this end. At 
 times other children were brought in, and of one or 
 
BALLANTYNE 13 
 
 two she grew fond ; but her life was too apart from 
 theirs, and the methods pursued in her own case too 
 unlike ordinary ones, to make her desire much beyond 
 the daily routine. 
 
 When spring came they rowed on the river, 
 down to which they looked from the bay-window of 
 the drawing-room. They took long walks together, 
 for each day had its allotted time in the open air. 
 But the freedom of childhood had no place save at 
 Nantucket. Here Marion revelled, and would joy 
 fully have stayed the entire summer, but for the 
 promise long ago made her mother, that time should 
 be equally divided between the two houses. 
 
 Grandfather Lacy knew her better than anybody, 
 better even than her father, whose silent subdued life 
 brought out none of the wild eager strain that came to 
 her with every breath of the great sea. In Boston she 
 knew nobody save the decorous elderly cousins, who 
 called at stated intervals and shook their heads at the 
 way the child was growing up. It was in Nantucket 
 that she first learned what human interests meant, 
 and carried back the restlessness born of their lack, 
 but not yet tangible enough to work any change in 
 routine. 
 
 Plymouth and its inflexibilities came always be 
 tween and stifled rising impulses ; and when the 
 two months were over, home seemed too delicious 
 a relief to even think of question. But at Plymouth 
 there were always Dilly s stories for resource, and 
 something almost as fascinating in the great chimney, 
 
i 4 BALLANTYNE 
 
 which began in the cellar, a pile of masonry big 
 enough to make an ordinary house, and pushed its 
 way through the centre, narrowing as it went. Half 
 the way up, on the second landing of the old stairway, 
 a little door opened into it, just big enough for 
 Marion s fair little head to enter and look far up to 
 the patch of blue sky at the top and the darting 
 swallows across the blue. There were nests all the 
 way, one close to the opening, and she could look 
 into the gaping mouths and hear the screaming 
 mother above, answered by a chatter from every other 
 mother all the way down. Best of all, something 
 that never failed, was the bit of blue and the glancing 
 flight across it, remembered long years later when, 
 under the glorious dome of the Pantheon, on that 
 square of pavement wet with the dew of a thousand 
 years, she looked up to the same blue and the same 
 swift flight. But even this at last palled, and a great 
 weariness came upon her, and she even pondered 
 running away, and getting back to Grandfather Lacy, 
 since Grandmother Barstow grew more rigid every 
 day, and the only break came in the two hours in 
 which she walked through the old streets or down the 
 shore road, dreaming dreams of free days to come. 
 
Chapter Second 
 
 DOWN this road Marion walked one 
 August afternoon, looking off to sea 
 and a sail or two in the distance. The 
 heat lay shimmering, a fine haze, bay 
 and rock and sandy shore absorbing it as if to take in 
 store against the coming winter. Masses of wild 
 indigo were in bloom. Spikes of pink hardhack 
 looked at her over the gray stone wall, and clumps of 
 sweet-fern basking in the sun filled the air with their 
 warm spiciness. Marion sat down by one of them 
 and buried her face in it, then looked about at all the 
 delicate greenery of an old New England roadside, 
 fern and brake and moss ; no sound anywhere, save 
 the drone of a busy humble-bee in the clover, and 
 beyond the light wash of the water, lying glassy calm 
 under the afternoon sky, this beating pulse on the 
 shore the only token of motion or life. 
 
 Down this road was the one interesting point, 
 a little unpainted weather-beaten house, with roof 
 sloping to the ground and giving evidence of general 
 decrepitude in hollowed ridge-pole and bulging side. 
 Through the tiny panes of glass one saw only the 
 yawning fireplace, the uneven floors and low ceiling, 
 
16 BALLANTYNE 
 
 from which the plaster had fallen in great pieces. 
 Into these windows Marion had often looked, begin 
 ning a year or two before, when her afternoon walks 
 had been admitted as something she might be trusted 
 to take alone. At first it had been with a shiver, 
 for strange shadows were in the corners, and it even 
 seemed as if faces formed and disappeared and figures 
 flitted before the low windows. Then, in spite of 
 fear, came the wish to enter. There might be hid 
 den treasure somewhere. There might be a hundred 
 things that nobody knew about, and why should 
 not she, too, be a discoverer ? 
 
 From the first frightened stealing in to the gradual 
 sense of ownership was a long step but it came. 
 In the south room upstairs, a little table, a splint- 
 bottomed chair, and a battered tin basin still remained; 
 and here Marion labored, the dust of years flying 
 before the stump of an old broom, and sand tugged 
 up from the beach making a carpet at last. The 
 little window came to the floor, and here she spread 
 great store of sweet-fern, a spicy couch on which she 
 lay and looked ofF to sea, dreaming dreams that came 
 more freely here than in the sombre old house in the 
 town. Such treasures as had no entrance there she 
 put up here : gay stones and pebbles worn smooth by 
 the sea; stray cockle-shells or wreaths of seaweed; 
 an empty hornets nest ; some birds* eggs ; anything 
 that Dilly would reject or grandmother frown 
 upon. 
 
 This was her own house. Here she ruled su- 
 
BALLANTYNE 17 
 
 preme, and in it moved a strange company, whose 
 faces she saw and whose voices were plain, begin 
 ning with Peter Folger himself, making no protest 
 now, but accepting as companions any one who came, 
 from the King of the Golden River down to Red 
 Riding-Hood herself. 
 
 It had been a shock, then, this afternoon, to find 
 that her quarters had been invaded ; that a fisherman s 
 boat rocked near the shore, and a little dory was 
 drawn up on the beach ; while within, a woman 
 moved about, and in the open doorway sat a little 
 figure so twisted and distorted that Marion shud 
 dered. She did not like deformity or dirt ; but as 
 the face turned toward her and she met the dark, 
 wistful eyes fixed upon her, she came nearer invol 
 untarily, and sat down on the old doorstep. 
 
 " Do you live here ? " she asked. u I used to, 
 I mean a little every day. When did you come ? " 
 
 " Not long ago," the child answered after a pause, 
 in which he had looked steadily into Marion s face. 
 " Father came because our house burned down and 
 we had to come somewhere. He s asleep now, but 
 he goes out fishing, and so do Hiram and Hezekiah. 
 They re big. They re my brothers. I m Zacha- 
 riah, and I can t walk much. Did you ever have a 
 house burn down ? " 
 
 " Who re you talking to ? " said the woman, com 
 ing to the door, and looking distrustfully at Marion. 
 " Mind what you say, now ; and don t you be sassy 
 to him." 
 
 2 
 
i8 BALLANTYNE 
 
 " I don t want to be," said Marion, surprised. 
 u I m so sorry for him. Can t he go anywhere ? " 
 
 " Not unless he s carried," said the woman, with a 
 change of tone. " He crawls round here some, but 
 he can t so well outdoors. He don t much mind, 
 though, if I set him where he can look off." 
 
 " No," said Zachariah, with a smile that lighted 
 the whole worn little face ; " I take sights o comfort 
 just lookin ." 
 
 " He s seven," said the woman, with a sigh, and 
 in a burst. of confidence she might not have felt toward 
 an older listener added, " You d never think it to 
 look at him. He don t look more n three in size. 
 He hain t never had no chance. Zachariah, he fell 
 out o the second-story window when he was two, 
 right onto the doorstep, an he was so smashed they 
 did n t think he could be set nohow, an so he jest lay, 
 an the bones come together most anyway, an he s 
 all of a twist, an nothin to be done unless you broke 
 em an started again. He s crazy to go out in the 
 boat, but he won t take him, an the boys can t, be 
 cause now they ve gone off to the Works over across 
 the bay. I d take him, but for all I ve lived by the 
 shore most all my life, I can t handle an oar no 
 more n a baby; an his father s so set agin him an 
 everything he wants, I don t know how he 11 ever 
 get his way. Not naterally set. Abner s good 
 naterally, but when he gets a leetle too much he s 
 set." 
 
 Marion s eyes fixed on her forlorn face had seemed 
 
BALLANTYNE 
 
 to compel these statements ; and now she turned 
 away. " Set a spell," she said. " It 11 please 
 Zach." 
 
 Marion was looking toward the little dory. Here 
 the inlet was smooth as glass, and she had rowed 
 where real waves were rolling in on a far bolder 
 shore. Grandmother Barstow and her injunctions 
 receded into the distance. 
 
 "I can row," she said. "My grandfather taught 
 me. I 11 row him all round the cove." 
 
 " Lawful heart ! " said the woman. u I would n t 
 durst to let you. You d both be drowned." 
 
 " Help me with the boat," said Marion, " and I 11 
 show you ; " and she ran, and began to push the dory. 
 The woman followed, and after a moment pushed 
 also. Marion sprang in and took the oars. It was 
 delicious to feel them again, and she rowed with 
 steady strokes across the inlet and back. 
 
 " Now," she said, as she ran the prow of the boat 
 up on the shore again, " don t you see that I know ? 
 Can t I take him ? " 
 
 " You do seem to," said the woman, hesitatingly ; 
 and Zachariah put out his two claws of hands with a 
 silent imploring that went to Marion s heart. 
 
 " You must let him," she said, decisively. " I m 
 ten years old, and my father wishes me to do what I 
 
 want to do, when it doesn t con flict " 
 
 she added, slowly, with a sudden memory of the 
 clause quoted by grandmother. " This does n t 
 conflict, I know." 
 
BALLANTYNE 
 
 Without a word the woman brought out an old 
 shawl and a pillow, arranged both in the bow of the 
 boat, and carried the distorted little figure to it. 
 Zachariah sat speechless with happiness, while Marion 
 rowed gently and steadily, as if something precious 
 were in charge. Back and forth across the inlet, 
 and at last straight out to the mouth and the great 
 rock, and a pause there while she looked at the crop 
 of mussels and barnacles growing on it. Half an 
 hour of this, an ecstasy to Zach, and hardly less 
 so to herself, and then she suddenly became con 
 scious that time was flying, and that she must go 
 home. 
 
 " I shall come and do it again, she said, as Zach 
 with shining eyes was put back in the doorway ; and 
 she hurried home, pondering whether she must tell 
 grandmother. 
 
 " I shall tell father," she said at last. " Grand 
 mother thinks everything is wicked. I won t tell her 
 unless I have to." 
 
 So it came to pass that on the days when the dory 
 lay idle and its master slept, Marion repeated the 
 experience, and in any time between sat in the door 
 way and told stories or listened to Zach s theories of 
 life. They were very simple. To be patient now, 
 because by and by everybody was going to be good 
 and he would not have to ache so much, and in the 
 meantime to watch every inch of his small world, 
 since each one had its story to tell. 
 
 " Everything has faces in it. Do you see faces ? " 
 
BALLANTYNE 21 
 
 he said one day, his eyes fixed on Marion s. " Every 
 thing says things. Can you hear them ? " 
 
 "Sometimes," Marion nodded. "I used to when 
 I came down here all alone. Do you like it ? " 
 
 " Of course. They re my company. But I like 
 you best of all. Don t go away." 
 
 " I must, I must," Marion said. " But I will 
 come again ; yes, I will come again." 
 
 So it was that the talk ended almost daily, at last 
 with tears as the days were numbered, and the Sep 
 tember wind ruffled the water of the little inlet, and 
 Zach s mother shook her head mournfully as she 
 looked at him. Daily Marion eyed her grandmother, 
 wondering if she ought to tell before she went away. 
 It was her first secret and one that weighed upon 
 her, and she had even taken counsel with Dilly. 
 
 " Can a person do a thing because they think it 
 is right and helps somebody else, even when some 
 other person thinks it is wrong ? " she asked ; and 
 Dilly, after a moment s observation, said : 
 
 " Law, child ! Long s nobody s hurt, t ain t no 
 body s business." 
 
 It was with these comforting words in her ears 
 that Marion went down the shore road on a day 
 later, now running, now walking, a still bright day, 
 hardly a white-cap to be seen, and an air that made 
 her dance as she went. It is certain that grand 
 mother, who had last seen her silent and subdued, 
 eying her patchwork as an enemy to be disposed of 
 at once, would not have known her. Dilly could 
 
22 BALLANTYNE 
 
 have told a different story ; but Dilly was discreet, 
 and only shook her head as she saw Marion s slow 
 step quicken and her eyes lighten as she opened the 
 old gate. Zach stretched out his arms as she ran at 
 last toward him, and held her hand tight. 
 
 " We 11 have a beautiful row," she said ; and that 
 was all, till he was safely on his pillow, the great 
 shawl wrapped around his chilly little body, and the 
 silent passage to and fro had begun. 
 
 " A little farther, go a little farther," he begged at 
 last. "We can go a little farther, because mother 
 is gone over to the store, you know, and won t get 
 back for a good while." And Marion nodded, and 
 pulled toward the great rock. A bit of bright sea 
 weed had been thrown up on it, and she tried to get 
 it, making several efforts, since the tide was setting 
 out and the current was strong about it. How it 
 happened she could never tell ; but as she bent over 
 it at last and grasped it, one oar slipped away and 
 floated just beyond her reach. She tried to draw it 
 in with the other, and in the effort worked too ab- 
 sorbedly to notice that she was drifting farther out. 
 Still it evaded her, and she looked up finally, startled 
 to find where she was, and turning in sudden terror 
 to the rock and shore. Zach s head had fallen back 
 on the pillow. The sun shone warm on the haggard 
 little face, and he had gone to sleep. 
 
 " I won t frighten him. It would frighten him if 
 I called," Marion thought ; " and there s nobody to 
 call ; " and again she paddled with all her small strength, 
 
BALLANTYNE 23 
 
 quite conscious in the end that she was making no 
 headway, and that the distance between her and the 
 shore widened steadily. Wind and wave worked 
 together. Her breath was quite gone. She stood up 
 and looked about, but she was all alone, not even a 
 distant sail within range. 
 
 u There is always something coming," she said. u I 
 will watch." And she laid down the oar and sat 
 quite silent, her eyes fixed on the far horizon line. 
 Zach stirred presently and opened his eyes, surprised 
 at a sudden sprinkle of spray from a wave. 
 
 u What a long way out," he said. " Why don t 
 you go back ? " 
 
 " I can t," said Marion with a little gasp, for one 
 tear had fallen suddenly. "The oar is gone, and the 
 tide is taking us out." 
 
 u Then we are going off together," said Zach, 
 placidly. " I wished we could do it, and now we are, 
 and we won t go back again." 
 
 "We can t till they pick us up," said Marion. 
 " And there s nothing to do it." 
 
 "That s good," said Zach. " I m not afraid, for 
 I dreamed just now that something beautiful was 
 pulling the boat right along j and it must be, for see 
 how she goes just a little rock, rock, and straight 
 ahead. We re being taken somewhere, and it will 
 be beautiful. Ain t you glad ? " 
 
 Marion was silent, but she crept over next to Zach 
 and watched the sun sink lower and lower, till at last 
 sea and sky held only splendor, and their way lay 
 
24 BALLANTYNE 
 
 through waves of crimson and gold and amethyst ; 
 and then came twilight and fast-deepening shadow. 
 Only a wave now and then broke against the boat, 
 and Marion, who for a little while had cried quietly, 
 her face turned from Zach, sat down in the bottom 
 and wrapped the great shawl about both. She was 
 not cold, for at the last moment Dilly had made her 
 put on a warm jacket, and in the pocket were two 
 doughnuts, one of which she gave to Zach. 
 
 u Lie down ! " he said, presently. " Here s the 
 pillow, and it s so nice to rock and rock all the way 
 to somewhere." 
 
 Marion obeyed, worn out with rowing and the 
 long watching; and soon the two children slept 
 soundly, while the dory rode easily over the light 
 waves. 
 
 When Marion woke the stars were still shining, 
 but in the east was a faint streak of light, the first 
 token of coming day. She had been dreaming, and 
 the dream still held her. Old Peter Folger was there, 
 and he had said, u Don t you be frightened, child, I 
 am taking you to your grandfather. He wanted you, 
 and this seemed the only way." 
 
 The voice was so plain, the eyes looked at her with 
 so much kindness, that she turned to see him better, 
 and then remembered. She was stiff and chilled, and 
 stood up ; and then she saw that a little schooner was 
 near, and that a boat with two men in it was pulling 
 toward them. 
 
 w Great Jehosaphat ! " one of them cried as he came 
 
BALLANTYNE 25 
 
 nearer. " It s two children ! For the land s sake, 
 how did this happen ? " 
 
 " Be very careful. He s badly broken," said 
 Marion, as one of them, a grizzled old sailor, caught 
 the side of the dory and made a movement to lift the 
 strange bundle on the pillow. 
 
 " It s mermaids," the man said, as Zach sat up and 
 looked at him calmly. " Where d you come from 
 and where you bound to ? " 
 
 " We re bound to a beautiful place," said Zach. 
 " Are you going there too ? " 
 
 "Not unless Nantucket s your harbor," the old 
 sailor answered after a pause of amazement. " It 11 
 take the captain to tackle your kind. He 11 get it 
 out o you better n I can, an now you re to come 
 in here." 
 
 He lifted Zach gently. Marion stepped over the 
 side, and the little dory, tied to the larger boat, followed 
 as they made great strokes toward the schooner, from 
 the side of which two or three curious faces looked 
 down. The children were handed up, and when a few 
 questions had been asked and answered, Marion said : 
 
 " Can t you take us back to Plymouth ? They 
 will all be so frightened ! " 
 
 That mischief s all done," said the captain. 
 " We re bound for Nantucket, an we 11 be there by 
 afternoon, an then I 11 telegraph. What your 
 folks meant by letting you handle a boat, a snipe like 
 you, beats me." 
 
 " They did n t," said Marion. " I mean they did. 
 
26 BALLANTYNE 
 
 My Grandfather Lacy at Nantucket showed me how, 
 but my grandmother at Plymouth would n t let me, if 
 she knew." 
 
 " So you re the old captain s granddaughter, be 
 you ? " said the captain. " Well, well ! We 11 
 have some breakfast, an then we 11 hear the whole. 
 They 11 have been cruisin round for you the most 
 of the night, most likely, but there ain t no boats 
 in sight. There, there," he added hastily, for Marion s 
 eyes had rilled with tears, which she winked away. 
 " It 11 be all right when you git to grandfather s." 
 
 Marion s face cleared in spite of her remorse. To 
 see grandfather again was a bliss worth purchasing by 
 many sorrows ; and to be on a real schooner and 
 watching all its strange life was another delight far 
 beyond her wildest dreams. Zach was her chief 
 worry ; but the telegraph would clear up everything, 
 and in the meantime he was supremely happy. So 
 the strange day wore away, and at sunset, after long 
 hours of beating against a head wind, they dropped 
 anchor in Nantucket harbor, and the captain himself 
 carried Zach in his arms up the old street and to the 
 house. Marion s heart failed her as she thought of 
 Aunt Priscilla, but she went in quietly, showed the 
 captain into the parlor, and then looked into the din 
 ing-room for her grandfather. His chair stood as 
 usual before the secretary, but was empty, and she 
 ran upstairs with a sudden frightened pause as Aunt 
 Priscilla came out of her father s room, uttering a low 
 cry as she faced her. 
 
BALLANTYNE 27 
 
 " How did you know ? " she asked. "Who brought 
 you ? Can you be very quiet, Marion ? He has never 
 stopped wanting you, but you 11 kill him if you cry 
 or go on." 
 
 She pushed the child before her as she spoke, and 
 opened the door. Marion was trembling as she went, 
 and stood there dumb ; for grandfather lay on his bed 
 with closed eyes, breathing heavily. 
 
 " Sit down by him," said Aunt Priscilla. " He 11 
 know you as soon as he opens his eyes." 
 
 Know her ? Why should he not know her ? 
 Marion sat down as she was bid and waited, touch 
 ing at last the old hand that lay outside the coverlet, 
 
 the handsome hand that no seafaring had ever 
 
 harmed, and that he admired quite impersonally, since 
 it was the Lacy hand, the possession of generations. 
 The veins were blue and swollen, but it seemed for 
 all that almost lifeless, till her own warm little hand 
 touched it. He stirred then and moaned a little, 
 and slowly opened his eyes till they rested full on 
 Marion s face. From what far-away distance they 
 looked, till he had struggled back and put out his 
 arms with the old smile ! 
 
 " There she is," he said, slowly and with difficulty. 
 " Just as I thought ! Come up here, my pet, by 
 grandfather, and we 11 have a little talk." 
 
 Marion had dropped her hat on the floor, and now 
 she climbed up silently to the great old-fashioned bed, 
 and nestled in his arms, her cheek against his. 
 
 "So they let you come, pet," he said presently, 
 
28 BALLANTYNE 
 
 with long pauses between the words. "I didn t 
 know how they would manage it, since Gardiner is 
 off. But I wanted you, and so they sent. I d no 
 thought of you before to-morrow. You re just in 
 time, my pet, just in time. Sails all furled and 
 the anchor ready to drop." 
 
 What did he mean ? His voice had failed again, 
 and Aunt Priscilla came near and gave him some 
 drops from a bottle on the stand, and then stood there 
 quite still. The doctor had come in, too, and took 
 his hand, and then laid it down silently. 
 
 " Let her alone," he said, as Aunt Priscilla made a 
 motion to lift Marion down. " Let her alone. 
 There is nothing now but that." 
 
 " Grandfather ! " Marion cried in sudden terror, 
 for he lay quite motionless, and one arm that had 
 folded her had slipped away. " Oh, grandfather ! 
 What is it?" 
 
 " Come, pet, they are all there, and you shall go, 
 too," he said suddenly, in a clear, full voice, lifting his 
 head. Then it fell back, and all was still again ; and 
 when the silence had lasted a long time, and grew 
 deeper and deeper, Marion, though she still clung, 
 was aware that something strange and new had 
 begun. But she did not stir till the old doctor, with 
 tears streaming down his face, took her in his arms 
 and said : 
 
 " Come, child ! All you could do for him is done. 
 He s dead." 
 
Chapter Third 
 
 r~m THROUGH all her life, the days that 
 fe followed seemed to Marion part of the 
 
 I dream begun in the little boat, as she 
 
 M floated on that night under the stars. 
 
 Grandmother had come, and Dilly, and Zach s 
 mother, but nobody reproached her. On the con 
 trary, Dilly looked at her with a certain awe, as one 
 just emerged from some land of mystery, and spoke 
 to her in whispers. Most of them did that, and stole 
 about on tiptoe \ and even when they met at table 
 the voices were muffled, as if there were some one 
 who must not hear. Marion sat silently in corners, 
 as she had learned to do with grandmother, only wish 
 ing that she might see Zach, who with his mother 
 had been sent back on the next boat, crying vainly 
 for another look, and hardly comforted by remember 
 ing of what wonders he had been a part. 
 
 Marion had seen grandfather once. They had put 
 him in the coffin, and he lay there smiling and young, 
 and certainly not the grandfather she had ever known. 
 People came steadily, and the boat brought more, and 
 at last on the fourth day there was a funeral in the 
 old Quaker fashion, though all the ministers were 
 
30 BALLANTYNE 
 
 there. The old captains bore the coffin, and all the 
 town followed in long lines through the crooked 
 streets, and up the windy hill where she had played, 
 and where they laid him in sight of the sea. 
 
 u Man is as grass and as the flower of the field, 
 the Quaker preacher had broken out suddenly, in the 
 strange, high-pitched voice, that seemed to have the 
 sound of the wind in it, and that went on and on with 
 its burden of man s frailty and the nothingness of 
 earth. 
 
 " They said he would rise again, but he can t in 
 that awful box," Marion thought ; and as the first 
 shovelfuls of earth fell on the lid she cried : 
 
 " Grandfather ! grandfather ! Oh, take him out ! 
 You must n t leave him shut up so ! " 
 
 She threw herself down by the grave, a passion of 
 tears and sobs shaking her. Then some one lifted her, 
 
 and her father s voice whispered, " Hush, Marion, 
 
 and soon I will tell you all about it ; " and she clung to 
 him silently till the grave was filled, and the people 
 turned away, and, to the scandal of everybody, Gard 
 iner Lacy, instead of going home, walked toward the 
 old windmill with Marion in his arms. There he sat 
 down and told her what she never forgot, that peo 
 ple made death terrible because, no matter what they 
 said, they did not believe that it was a great gift and 
 not a curse. 
 
 " Live well. Think high thoughts. Be kind and 
 loving and generous and fearless, like grandfather ; 
 and when the day comes that you must take your 
 
BALLANTYNE 31 
 
 turn, and lie with shut eyes till they put you out of 
 sight, you will open them on something more beauti 
 ful than you ever dreamed, and it will be forever." 
 
 Never had he spoken such words before, nor did 
 they come again. Marion held him tight, quiet and 
 comforted, even jubilant at last, as one to whom a 
 great good was to come. But though she ran down 
 the hill, she grew silent again as they went into the 
 house ; for grandmother was there to tell the tale of 
 her misdoing, and it was uncertain what might happen. 
 
 No clue came to her as to what had been said, nor 
 did she see grandmother till supper time. And then 
 every one listened to old Friend Barstow, as he finished 
 a story begun on the porch, the beginning of which 
 Marion resolved must be hers as soon as she could 
 find him alone. It was the story of a wreck which 
 had happened off the Irish coast, part of the work of 
 a terrible storm, which her father said he had encoun 
 tered also on the way home. In it, said the Friend, 
 a far-away cousin had been lost with one of the two 
 children lost near shore, though as yet no details 
 had come, and they only knew that the mother and 
 one child were saved. He knew all the Ballantynes, 
 and he shook his head as he ended. 
 
 " I hope it s a John that s come to land," he said. 
 " There s been a John Ballantyne in the family ever 
 since the first Ballantyne set foot in America. It 
 would be a pity if the old name ran out." 
 
 Marion listened with a shiver. This blue sea 
 could be cruel, she knew, but to her it had always 
 
32 BALLANTYNE 
 
 been kind; nor could she understand the sudden 
 passion with which her father caught her as he came 
 out from another shorter talk with grandmother, hold 
 ing her close as he said : 
 
 " God ! To think of what might have happened!" 
 " Your father does not think as I do," grandmother 
 said, severely, when she next saw Marion. " You 
 have deceived me for a long time. I shall ask you 
 no questions, because I do not wish to hear any false 
 hoods, but I certainly shall not trust you again, and 
 it is my opinion you ought to be sent to a very strict 
 school, where you would be watched all the time. 
 That a merciful Providence interfered, and that you 
 were brought here, makes no real difference. You 
 have been a very wicked child, and that your father 
 makes light of it is all the worse for you." 
 
 u I wanted to tell you, I thought about it a good 
 deal," said Marion, whose face had flushed hotly, and 
 who was trembling a little. u It was for Zach, really. 
 I mean I wanted to anyway, and you think everything 
 is wicked, and I knew, I knew that that was not ; " 
 and Marion, with a burst of tears, ran out of the 
 room and hid herself in the garden between the rows 
 of corn, till she heard her father s voice calling. 
 The boat was there. They were all to go together; 
 and as they sailed away toward Martha s Vineyard, 
 from which long ago old Peter Folger had rowed 
 across to the Nantucket shore, she looked at all and 
 remembered, unconscious of the years that would 
 pass before it met her eyes again. 
 
BALLANTYNE 33 
 
 Leaning over the side, she watched the furrow in 
 the water, and tried not to think how it must seem 
 to be struggling in these waves on which she had 
 always ridden so lightly. But the faces of the two 
 children seemed rising and falling with each one that 
 broke against the boat ; and she cried out at last, and 
 ran to her father, who sat just inside the cabin door, 
 talking with grandmother and the other people, who 
 were all relations. 
 
 u The child will be sick. She s next door to it 
 now ! " one of them said ; and Gardiner Lacy looked 
 at her anxiously, and for a day or two afterward 
 watched every movement. 
 
 Something must be done. It was quite plain that 
 she had been too much with her elders ; and at last 
 he took counsel with the one cousin for whom he had 
 always had a certain affection, a woman of the 
 world, but one who had loved his wife and been loved 
 in return. To her belonged the three children, two 
 girls and a boy, who came sometimes, but whom 
 Marion had never visited in turn, and whom her 
 father watched as if they were creatures of another 
 planet, and not to be trusted save when his eyes were 
 on them. 
 
 The consultation changed his plans entirely. 
 Marion must work at home, but he decided that the 
 three should study with her, share her one-o clock 
 dinner, and play for an hour or two after it was over, 
 and before they left her to the silence of the great 
 rooms, which each day thereafter grew noisier, since 
 
 3 
 
34 BALLANTYNE 
 
 the three took full possession, led always by Marion, 
 who developed tendencies unsuspected by the decor 
 ous housekeeper, and made-believe all the day long. 
 Everything, from ballad to page in history, turned 
 into drama, the old dining-room a stage. She went 
 to the block in a hundred characters. Now, Mary 
 Queen of Scots, with piano-cover train, and Nell and 
 Bess as Mary Seaton and Mary Beaton, weeping 
 behind her, Tom marching solemnly before with the 
 kitchen hatchet as axe. She was Madame Roland ; 
 she was Jeanne d Arc ; anything beautiful and un 
 fortunate and evil-treated, though sometimes with 
 sudden remorse at her own selfishness she renounced 
 the chief part and followed one or the other. The 
 chief part had even been given to Tom, who as Sir 
 Walter Raleigh spread a small and dingy red cape as 
 cloak under her queenly feet, or as Sir Philip Sidney, 
 lay rigidly on his back and sternly motioned away the 
 cup of water brought by Marion disguised as a soldier 
 in her father s soft hat and an old-fashioned military 
 cloak. There was a Mexican poncho that answered 
 for Columbus when he came before Ferdinand and 
 Isabella ; and in time various properties accumulated, 
 but with no less necessity for much make-believe. 
 
 So long as this lasted, all went well ; but it was a 
 different matter when they settled to talk, and Marion 
 listened to heated discussions as to what they would 
 do when they grew up ; who ought to be visited; who 
 were nice people, and who were not. 
 
 "You could be more exclusive than anybody, 
 
BALLANTYNE 35 
 
 mamma says," said Bess one day. "You have a 
 right to be, because you are one of the oldest fami 
 lies ; and when you are a young lady you can do as 
 you choose and nobody will dare to say anything 
 much, and the people in the North End and such 
 places will be very envious and wish they could do 
 so, too." 
 
 " Why should n t they ? " said Marion, sitting 
 down suddenly and looking attentively at Bess. 
 
 " Why, because they can t, you know. They re 
 common, you see. They don t live in the right 
 places. When you re fashionable, you live in the 
 right places. You ve got to be kind to them, but 
 you can t go to see them, because, don t you see ? 
 they re not in society. That s what mamma said 
 when I wanted Eva Hopkins to come and see me, 
 and then I found out her father had a grocery, and it 
 would n t do, and I told her, and she cried first, and 
 then she was mad and said she d show me some day 
 she was as good as I was. Mamma said this was 
 impossible, because there were always differences 
 everywhere, and papa said the same, and that we 
 must never play with promiscuous children, out of 
 our own set, you know." 
 
 " Do you know what I shall do as soon as I am 
 big ? " said Marion, after a pause in which she had 
 looked at the three children reflectively. " I shall get 
 father to let me live half the time with the very poor 
 est people I can find. Poor like Zach, I mean. 
 Zach was n t common. Oh, no. He thought 
 
36 BALLANTYNE 
 
 about wonderful things that you don t know any 
 thing about. Oh, how I want to see him ! " 
 
 Her eyes filled with tears. Summer was near, but 
 she did not yet know what would be done, and in all 
 these months there had been no word of Zach, save 
 the one in answer to her father s letter, sent to them 
 by grandmother, that she had found the house shut 
 up and nobody there. Marion had not even told 
 them of Zach. That last day and night were all a 
 part of the mystery which she kept quite to herself, 
 and now she answered no questions, but sat, silent 
 and inscrutable, till they were gone. 
 
 " You were not polite," the housekeeper said ; and 
 Marion, with a dark look, replied : 
 
 " I never mean to be polite, when people say stupid 
 things or mean things." 
 
 June came, and Marion saw her father s eyes fixed 
 often upon her with a question she did not understand. 
 
 " If you were but a little older," he said one even 
 ing as she stood between his knees ; " if you were 
 just a little older, I would 
 
 He shut his lips tightly, nor could any question 
 extract what he would do ; but a day or two later he 
 said : 
 
 " I want to take you with me, Marion, but I am 
 afraid you are too small a girl." 
 
 Marion s eyes grew large, and the pink deepened in 
 her cheeks. " Oh ! " she cried, and stood breathless. 
 
 " There would have to be a maid," he went on, 
 " and that would be troublesome." 
 
BALLANTYNE 3? 
 
 " There won t have to be anybody," said Marion, 
 with decision. "Didn t you have me go to grand 
 father s without anybody, just to learn, and can t I 
 button my own shoes, and everything ? Take me, 
 take me ! I 11 never be a bit of trouble, and I am 
 big _ see ! " 
 
 Gardiner Lacy looked seriously at the little figure, 
 stretched to its utmost, every curl alive with eager 
 ness, and the deep blue eyes dark with excitement. 
 
 "I am growing up," she said. "I shall never 
 be troublesome any more, and now I shall always go 
 with you." 
 
 " Very well," her father said at last; and Marion in 
 a silent ecstasy put her hands on each side of his 
 face, and kissed him in her favorite fashion, on eyes 
 and lips. 
 
 So it happened, with no more words, that the 
 steamer s list read, " Gardiner Lacy and daughter," 
 and that the old order gave way to the new, with 
 only a little consternation on the part of the few ob 
 jectors, and unlimited satisfaction for the two most 
 nearly concerned. If in the first years there were 
 strange lapses or combinations in Marion s raiment, 
 there was small consciousness of it for either, and he 
 learned at last to take her over with only her single 
 travelling suit, and buy as was needed in the London 
 shops, where they were soon known and established 
 as favorites, since they wanted the best and took it 
 without question as to price. 
 
 For a month each year they stayed in London with 
 
38 BALLANTYNE 
 
 a friend of her father s, whose interests outside his 
 profession were chiefly Assyrian antiquities, and with 
 whom Marion held grave discussions, standing at his 
 side in the British Museum, and perplexing herself 
 over the inscrutable yet light-minded grin of these 
 representatives of Assyrian dynasties. But chiefest 
 came the exploration of old London itself, which she 
 grew to know inch by inch, her father s love for the 
 story of the past making it alive again. English 
 literature thus took on a meaning unknown to the 
 colder student, and Marion with each year grew more 
 and more into passionate sympathy with all on Eng 
 lish soil, and replied with fervor to questions : " Oh, 
 yes ; I was born in America, but I am English, 
 too ! " 
 
 So Scotland, England, and at last bits of Ireland 
 also came to be familiar ground, and the nine months 
 of home were principally retrospect and expectation, 
 with an added interest which was tolerated in spite of 
 her Aunt Theodosia s opposition. Zach had gone 
 quite out of her life ; but he had left an open door 
 through which all wandering and forlorn children 
 found entrance. There were plenty of streets lead 
 ing off the hill, in which tenement-houses rose and 
 squalid children swarmed ; and Marion brought them 
 home in twos and threes, and washed and scrubbed 
 and combed, till the real child, warmed and filled and 
 made glad with stories, showed the face meant for it 
 in the beginning. 
 
 " Let her alone," her father said to all complaints. 
 
BALLANTYNE 39 
 
 " When she does something wrong it will be time to 
 interfere." 
 
 That he himself felt absolute helplessness in facing 
 this order made no difference; Marion did not. She 
 understood, and if no other result came, it was better 
 than Aunt Theodosia s system, reduced to certain 
 yearly subscriptions and eliminating the human ele 
 ment as successfully as most systems. Bess and 
 Nell were in a fashionable school, and Tom just 
 entering Harvard, a supercilious young freshman, yet 
 sufficiently a student to run some chance of escaping 
 its worst elements. 
 
 Marion s interest in people grew rather than les 
 sened. At seventeen she seemed already a woman, 
 and Aunt Theodosia groaned as she looked at her. 
 
 " That child has a distinguished look, Gardiner," 
 she said one day, stopping him on his way out from 
 the library. " Of course I can see that, but she is 
 absolutely indifferent to style, and I believe she would 
 rather sit on the stairs of a tenement-house and talk 
 to the children, than go to the choicest gathering of 
 the season. You ll ruin her prospects." 
 
 " What are they ? " said Mr. Lacy, after a pause, 
 in which Mrs. Barstow noted that he was much 
 thinner than a year ago, and looked at that moment 
 very strangely old. 
 
 " To marry well, of course ! " she said, unhesitat 
 ingly. " But first to make some distinct place in 
 society. Her name and her fortune entitle her to it. 
 I don t mean that she has n t it. Of course, her name 
 
40 BALLANTYNE 
 
 will take her anywhere everywhere, certainly, that 
 is worth while ; but that is n t enough." 
 
 u It must be enough till she herself wishes more or 
 less," he said, slowly. u When I am gone, she will 
 be necessarily somewhat more in your hands, but not 
 long. I wish her always to have perfect liberty." 
 
 Mrs. Barstow was silent. His manner forbade 
 response, yet seemed to need one ; and as she hesi 
 tated, the coachman rang, and she hurried away on 
 her daily round. 
 
 Two weeks later, Gardiner Lacy was found sitting 
 at his writing-table, on which his head rested, quite 
 dead, a little packet before him marked " For 
 Marion only ; " which, as she opened it days after, 
 showed the few letters her mother had written him 
 during their only separation. There had been no 
 complaint, no change in daily routine, and they had 
 walked together the day before, talking of Marion s 
 latest theories and hopes as to her own life. Abso 
 lutely stunned for a time, she submitted to anything 
 suggested, nor did she rouse till Mrs. Barstow proposed 
 to close the house, spend a quiet winter in Rome, 
 give the summer to travel, and return when the period 
 of mourning was at an end. 
 
 " There is something better than that," she said. 
 u I do not want to travel or anything else, but stay 
 where I am now. I shall live in the North End and 
 work, and if that does not satisfy me we will talk about 
 something else afterward." 
 
 " My dear child ! " Mrs. Barstow began, and 
 
BALLANTYNE 41 
 
 then stopped. This year of compulsory quiet might 
 as well be given to a freak. Marion was growing 
 every day more charming. Tom raved over her, and 
 Tom s classmates no less. Without positive beauty, 
 since her features were irregular, and her looks a 
 curious mixture of unworldliness and a subtle fascina 
 tion of which as yet she had no consciousness, it was 
 a marked type, and no one could say what added 
 charm might come. 
 
 "Daughter of Vikings," Tom called her, for she 
 kept the fair hair of her childhood, one mass of ripples, 
 which, though brushed straight back, loosened always 
 about the white forehead, each tendril holding sun 
 shine. The cheek-bones were a little too high, the 
 nose a distinct arch, the mouth too wide, and the chin 
 firm and too square. But the eyes with their won 
 derful dark, deep blue, long lashed, and with the 
 unconscious look of a little child, were her charm; 
 and when she smiled the face held a sweet joyousness 
 to which Tom and many another longed to add a 
 personal quality, which might give some hope of 
 making it their own. The slender, erect figure, 
 neither short nor yet tall, carried the feeling of health 
 and vigor, born of much outdoor life. By the side 
 of the English girls she knew she seemed frail, but 
 her strength and endurance were fully equal to theirs, 
 and they declared at last that the American type was 
 a mystery not to be fathomed since each year demon 
 strated that she was not alone in her endowment. 
 
 " I shall not oppose you, Marion," Mrs. Barstow 
 
B ALLANTYNE 
 
 said, the pause in which many thoughts and plans 
 darted indications through her mind having been a 
 hardly perceptible one. " Do as you like, only 
 remember that your father has left you partly to me, 
 and that my home is yours also." 
 
 u How dear and good you are ! " Marion said, with 
 sudden compunction at her own persistent rebellion 
 against Aunt Theodosia s methods. It was only a 
 difference of standpoints, yet strive as she would they 
 would not become identical ; and when she had taken 
 all the charm of the gay life of the whole family, 
 dinners, operas, five-o clock teas, Browning Clubs, and 
 various aesthetic distractions, there was always dissatis 
 faction and glad return to the old ways. Now it had 
 ended. The old life was done. There was no more 
 companionship for her such companionship as had 
 grown fuller every year and took hold of every act 
 and thought ; so satisfying that to come back to it 
 had been the crown of every pleasure. 
 
 " I shall never want to marry," she had said one 
 day with a flush, as Aunt Theodosia said, " When 
 you are married, Marion." " Marriage is n t every 
 thing. There is no man alive that I could spend a 
 lifetime with as I could have done with my father. 
 Nobody knew his goodness and his knowledge so well 
 as I. I never found that he lost, even in seeing him 
 with fine Englishmen ; and not one American in a 
 thousand can stand that test. They are the most 
 glorious men alive. I don t mean the kind you are 
 all going wild over this winter ; that unpleasant young 
 
BALLANTYNE 43 
 
 lord, with bulgy eyes and a horsey look. I mean a 
 kind we seldom get here." 
 
 Marion s eyes were dark as she ended, the look 
 that always came with sudden earnestness, and that 
 Tom said made a delicious shiver run down his spine 
 and despair enter his soul ; and Aunt Theodosia, as 
 she watched, settled at last that some one over the sea 
 stood in the way of influence on this side, and would 
 presently appear and make the riddle plain. 
 
 " She s tremendously chummy," said Tom; "but 
 she s so to all of us, and you never get any farther. 
 I don t see how she manages." 
 
 Marion had her way. The old house remained 
 open, moving on with the same household machinery, 
 but she herself came and went irregularly. She had 
 taken rooms in a side street ; fitted them up for her 
 children ; studied kindergarten methods with passion 
 ate interest ; and spent time, strength, and income in a 
 fight with conditions. As the year ended, she gave 
 herself more to Aunt Theodosia and her life, falling 
 into certain phases of it with ease. She had made 
 also little visits to Aunt Priscilla, ruling still in the 
 old house and looking with mingled pride and sus 
 picion at the girl whose eyes still held secrets she 
 could not fathom. 
 
 Marion had gone once to Plymouth, been wept 
 over by Dilly, and greeted by her grandmother with a 
 distrust born of her last experience with her, and not 
 to be wiped out by any fair seeming of the present. 
 Marion shrank from her no less decidedly, and the 
 
44 BALLANTYNE 
 
 week ended with a sense of great relief for both. 
 She had walked down the shore road, rinding the 
 little house given over to a tumultuous Irish family, 
 and gone home with the feeling stronger each year : 
 u There is nothing but sadness in the old places. I 
 will not come again unless I must." 
 
 To go back to the children s faces and all the 
 strange life of the crowded streets was best. But 
 restlessness was upon her. She weighed and meas 
 ured ; fretted against obstructions to work and life ; 
 grew half despairing over the pressure that made 
 progress for her poor well nigh impossible ; and 
 at twenty-one had made up her mind. Aunt Theo- 
 dosia in the meantime congratulated herself that the 
 child was settling at last into delightful conformity to 
 her own standard, and developing simply unrivalled 
 social powers, that made her the magnet for all that 
 was best and brightest, and faced her with absolute 
 consternation as Marion one day said, calmly : 
 
 " Aunt Theodosia, I have settled finally what to 
 do. I loathe America. I am going to England to 
 live, and I do not mean ever to come back again." 
 
 " My dear child ! " gasped Aunt Theodosia. 
 " America ! Loathe it ! Why, America is - 
 
 " I will tell you what America is," returned 
 Marion, dispassionately. "It seems to be chiefly 
 vulgar, presumptuous certainty that it knows all, 
 when it has learned only the first letters of its alpha 
 bet. It is a truckling and subserviency and snob 
 bishness that cannot be matched anywhere else on the 
 
BALLANTYNE 4 S 
 
 planet. It is insolence, and hard-heartedness, and 
 grinding the face of the poor, and all that is a shame 
 to a country that calls itself free ; and worst of all, it 
 is faithlessness, and indifference, and a base content 
 with selfish living. I have watched it all for a long 
 time, and now I am tired, and am going where I 
 believe there is something better." 
 
Chapter Fourth 
 
 I 
 
 had been signs of fog in the early 
 morning, but all had vanished, and at two 
 Marion rode in on the top of a Chelsea 
 bus, descending at Westminster, and 
 strolling toward St. James s Park, where she meant 
 to feed the ducks for half an hour, and then return 
 to the Abbey, in time for the final anthem, with the 
 swell of the noble organ and the fresh voices of the 
 Westminster School boys floating upward among 
 the pointed arches. A sense of exhilaration, born of 
 many causes, filled her; the soft English air; the 
 budding trees ; the great towers of Parliament ; all 
 this wonderful ground on which she walked. Not 
 three weeks since she had sailed, yet the sense of 
 long-continued possession was strong upon her, and 
 she leaned over the railing of the old bridge across 
 the pond, dropping crumbs mechanically to the ducks 
 below, and remembering those last days at home, 
 Aunt Theodosia s face of absolute and dignified dis 
 approval, and Tom s frantic appeals, both alike to 
 day as remote as a remembered dream. 
 
 " If you won t marry me, then for heaven s sake 
 marry some of the other fellows and stay at home ! " 
 
BALLANTYNE 47 
 
 Tom groaned, when every other form of remon 
 strance and invective had been tried in vain. " I m 
 not up to you, Marion, I know. I don t care a rap 
 for anything but you, but I d do anything just 
 because you want it, and that s just as good as prin 
 ciple, if you 11 count results, and not be forever pry 
 ing after motives. Oh, why won t you take up with 
 some of us, and stay where you belong ? I won t 
 even envy the fellow, if you 11 only stay where I can 
 see you ; and if you won t, I 11 shoot myself and then 
 haunt you, see if I don t." 
 
 Tom ruffled his hair wildly, and for the time lost 
 entirely his expression of languid tolerance with its 
 undercurrent of pessimism, the Harvard look culti 
 vated by his particular set, and Marion s eyes 
 rested on him for a moment with more interest than 
 usual. 
 
 " Yes, there might really be something there," she 
 said, reflectively ; " if anything were worth while more 
 than five minutes at a time. But it is n t, you 
 know ; you have proved it to me often, and noth 
 ing that you will think or do now is going to make it 
 worth while, as I can see. No, Tom. You may as 
 well stop just here. I am going, and I shall stay till 
 I see good reason for coming back. Now there is 
 not one, save a little natural pull of old associations. 
 If you want me to change, you must be quiet." 
 
 Tom ran his hands through his hair despairingly ; 
 but Marion turned away, and she gave him no fur 
 ther opportunity for remonstrance in the fortnight 
 
48 BALLANTYNE 
 
 which passed before the final preparations were made. 
 When she sailed out at last from Boston Harbor a 
 line of indignant and mourning friends stood on the 
 dock. Tom stood on the last and shakiest pile of 
 the pier, waving his handkerchief, with a wild wish 
 that he might suddenly go to the bottom and thus 
 compel a temporary if not permanent interest. They 
 had all been there when she had sailed two summers 
 before, and she stood by her father s side looking 
 back to the gilded dome of the State House and 
 the familiar spires, and then forward with the glad 
 rush of thought toward the England she loved ; and 
 her eyes filled with sudden tears as she remembered. 
 Aunt Theodosia had taken it for granted that she 
 would go to the same old friends, with whom each 
 year they had spent longer and longer time, but still 
 suspected something else in the background. 
 
 " As your father s cousin, and as near as a sister to 
 him," she said, " I ought to be allowed some ques 
 tions. But it was his principle to leave you free 
 entirely, and I must also. Only, my dear child, I 
 beg you not to forget that English society demands 
 more yielding to conventionality than American, and 
 that people there will not know who you are, as we 
 do, r and don t be too peculiar." 
 
 Marion had smiled, but it was the inscrutable 
 smile which enraged Tom and made Aunt Theodo 
 sia feel, as she affirmed, absolutely wild and as help 
 less as a baby. That was all over ; and as she 
 turned to face the soft wind from the sea, the spring 
 
BALLANTYNE 49 
 
 in her feet seeming to answer the dancing waves, 
 there was only the shadow of regret. A great expec 
 tation was upon her. Not a hope, since a hope makes 
 for itself a definite formulation, but an outreaching of 
 every impulse and desire toward an unknown but 
 coming good. Through all the passage this went 
 with her, the unseen but certain companion ; and 
 though she walked and talked and played at ship s- 
 coil with the few who kept their feet, and listened to 
 strange confidences, the necessity for which seems 
 born of a sea voyage, she would have had abundant 
 companionship in this sense of new life to come, 
 mysterious, overflowing with possibility, yet always 
 indefinable. 
 
 One thing was clear. The beginning must be left 
 unhampered. For once she would be quite alone, 
 quite free, and find how far she was sufficient, how 
 far insufficient, for herself. She wished she were an 
 artist, since this allowed all that she sought, and if 
 need came it would be very easy to set up a studio 
 and play again with clay as she had done at sixteen. 
 
 "Are you going over for work, or just for plea 
 sure ? " a student on his way to Germany via Eng 
 land had asked her ; and after an instant s hesitation 
 she had answered, " To work." 
 
 The words seemed to crystallize all wandering 
 tendencies, and she saw her way clear. She would 
 begin in Chelsea and old Cheyne Walk, where artists 
 thronged, and where she saw always the stately fig 
 ures that had come and gone in the days when Sir 
 
 4 
 
5 o BALLANTYNE 
 
 Thomas More lived there his gentle life, and the 
 form no less a vision, the old man with grizzled 
 hair and heavy brows, under which the melancholy 
 eyes looked out, pathetic under all the cynicism. 
 Carlyle, George Eliot, Landor, the Brownings, 
 the names of a generation nearly gone, all had their 
 place in the quiet streets. She would begin there, 
 if possible, in a house in which some friends had 
 once lived, and which also was part of a past gener 
 ation. She remembered the rooms, overlooking the 
 embankment and the river, one of which could easily 
 be studio, study, or what she willed. And there, 
 too, was Chelsea Old Church, with its swarm of 
 children, and everywhere forlorn, bedraggled women 
 making part of the steady stream through King s 
 Road. There would be plenty to help. That was 
 the chief point, and for the rest she would wait. 
 
 Thus it happened that after a day or two at the 
 little Quaker hotel in Bishopsgate Without, to which 
 she had gone at once, and where all remembered her, 
 she found the old rooms at her disposal, and took up 
 her life with the instant settling into routine which 
 seems inevitable in a country where all forms of 
 action have had a thousand years and more in which 
 to make for themselves ruts. As for the house, it 
 kept its old expression of a certain dingy stateliness, 
 regarded by its present occupant as so much more 
 capital, valueless where the average British lodger 
 was concerned, but a mine when Americans were in 
 question, since they demanded the venerable, and even 
 
B ALLANTYNE 
 
 accepted general mustiness as its symbol and equiva 
 lent. But mustiness had only a small and inevitable 
 share in the old house, scrubbed and polished and 
 black-leaded, and dealt with daily after the most rigid 
 canons of British housekeeping. There was even 
 something military in its exactness, as befitted the 
 name on the door. Mrs. General Pattle for so 
 her cards also read wore her hair in a crop of 
 frisky little curls, bleached to a pale yellow, and made 
 herself up on the theatrical pattern which seems to 
 include one half of the average Englishwomen after 
 forty. For the other division the election is to appear 
 in hair brushed uncompromisingly behind or over 
 the ears, and in garments whose general defiance of 
 all laws of color, fit, or harmony are never-ending 
 amazement to the American woman of the same age. 
 In fact the two classes are equally mysterious, but the 
 advantage lies with the former, in that the surprise 
 varies from day to day. 
 
 Under her pale curls Mrs. General Pattle showed 
 a pair of shrewd, kindly blue eyes, with heavy grizzled 
 brows ignored in the bleaching ; a spot of color on 
 her high cheek-bones, which indicated a Scotch tinge 
 somewhere; and a general look of capability empha 
 sized by every motion. Evidently her taste had been 
 formed and fixed at a far earlier period than the aes 
 thetic one then ruling in London, for her compact 
 little figure was clad in Dolly Varden patterns and 
 hung with much bog-oak and agate decoration. It 
 carried also an atmosphere of utter good will and a 
 
52 BALLANTYNE 
 
 conviction that nobody could be better dressed; while 
 summers long devoted to experiments with baths of 
 every nature, from Tunbridge and Epsom to Carlsbad 
 inclusive, gave her the air of what she called " a 
 genuine cosmopolitanism, me dear." 
 
 Why any Mrs. General should have sunk to lodgers 
 was in the beginning not plain, but was made so as 
 soon as the owner of the title had determined for her 
 self the quality of the new-comer. In any case it 
 was no miscellaneous crowd that ascended her stairs 
 and used her latch-key at will. Two floors only 
 were assigned to them, and of these Marion had the 
 lower one, the upper, which she would have chosen, 
 being rented permanently to an invisible some one, 
 who had thus far given no sign of tenancy. 
 
 " It s a gentleman, me dear," Mrs. Pattle had 
 stated in the beginning. u That I will not conceal, 
 but his manners are such that he could never offend, 
 and he only comes and goes, as it were, except now 
 and then, when he bides a bit. You might go a 
 month and never hear him once, and often it is so. 
 He s English, and that I did n t mean to have, liking 
 Americans the best oh, much the best, me dear, 
 for lodgers. But he s not so set up as many Eng 
 lishmen, and so I mind less. I m Scotch myself, 
 though brought up in England, and so it s natural I 
 should have a quick eye for English faults. We Ve 
 enough of our own, t is true, but we Ve none like 
 theirs. You 11 be quite free and no spying upon you, 
 for I m well used to Americans, and they will go 
 
BALLANTYNE 53 
 
 their own way, and a good right to it, I say, for they 
 pay, and never a word, and I m in cold terrors for 
 fear I 11 cheat them, maybe, all because of this way 
 they have, that s an obligation on all mankind to be 
 fair with them. T is not rational that I will say 
 not to scan a bill for the items, that an English 
 man will go over one by one, if it took all night, but 
 t is more comfortable, me dear, when there s never 
 been need of dickering nor haggling, and never did 
 a thought of that come to me till I ve been a 
 terrible fool in my life, me dear. I think I 11 even 
 tell the tale some day for your warning and instruc 
 tion, but not yet ; " and Mrs. General Pattle, shak 
 ing hei bog-oak chains and bracelets cheerfully, went 
 with a martial step out of the room. 
 
 Since then, absorbed by some country guests, she 
 had appeared but seldom, looking in for a moment 
 to say, " And how do you find yourself to-day, me 
 dear ? " and then vanishing. 
 
 The little maid who brought her meals and served 
 her with growing devotion had come from Devon 
 shire, answered to the name of Polly Veal, and knew 
 London only as a tale, her dreams of bliss being a 
 walk in the evening up King s Road, or a Sunday 
 outing in Battersea Park. It was all unusual, even 
 when most real ; and the absolute release from every 
 social claim, the certainty that till she chose to speak 
 she was lost in this ocean of humanity, so far from 
 oppressing, brought to Marion a certain exhilaration 
 and exaltation in which she moved. Day after day 
 
54 BALLANTYNE 
 
 she went over the familiar ground, reading in the 
 museum or wandering among the marbles, searching 
 out once more all remains of old London, and walk 
 ing as indefatigably as either Dickens or Macaulay, 
 those two most opposite haunters and explorers of 
 every secret spot in London streets. Till the spell 
 had lessened she could do no definite work, and in 
 yielding to it there was a certain compulsion, as if 
 some other will moved with her own and shared the 
 new sense of self-possession. To-day she had put 
 some biscuit in her pocket and leaned over the para 
 pet of the bridge, tossing a crumb now and then, and 
 smiling at the struggle below. 
 
 u Even the ducks are immemorial," she thought ; 
 " for their ancestors paddled toward gay King Charlie 
 and quacked and dove, precisely as their successors 
 are diving and quacking for me. It is all a bit of 
 the general solidity, a repose next door to Nirvana, 
 to pass from the eternally shifting to the eternally 
 stable, and cease the unending effort to resolve the 
 dirty grays into the original blacks and whites that 
 made them. There is comfortable, rational conser 
 vatism, even in the ducks." 
 
 She threw a sudden shower of crumbs over a placid 
 white one, looking with small, unwinking eyes toward 
 the biscuit in her hand and joining at once in the 
 tumultuous pursuit of the unexpected wealth. Now 
 and then one rode serenely, taking the morsel that 
 drifted in its way with the calmness born of certainty 
 that more was sure to come ; but for the most part 
 
BALLANTYNE 55 
 
 scramble was the order, the strongest quacking loud 
 satisfaction at the flight of the weakest. These, 
 finding no place, either swam away to secluded cor 
 ners, or gave themselves to that fury of insatiable 
 washing likely to overtake a duck at any moment 
 of its day, and a certain compensation for all sorrows 
 known to duck life. Here and there a pair of red 
 legs erect in the air showed that the owner was 
 taking active measures to secure his share, but for 
 the most part the surface held enough, and the many- 
 colored swimmers paddled from point to point, making 
 critical selection of the largest bits and quacking loud 
 disapproval of any similar attempt on the part of their 
 brethren. 
 
 "You are delightfully human," said Marion, un 
 consciously aloud, coloring as some one who had 
 paused for a moment to watch the struggle smiled, 
 and then, as he saw her flush, lifted his hat courte 
 ously and walked on toward the Abbey. He was 
 tall, and slenderly yet firmly built, with dark, serious 
 eyes that, as the smile faded, held a certain wistful 
 look, that lingered with Marion after he had passed on. 
 
 " That was a good face," she thought : " the face 
 of an honest gentleman with a soul ; but that look 
 belongs to a woman, and not a man. I wonder how 
 it got there. He is probably a poet." 
 
 She smiled at her own fancy, tossed the final bit to 
 the ducks, and after a little lingering along the river 
 turned toward the Abbey, and soon was in her favorite 
 place in the Poet s Corner, where she could hear the 
 
56 BALLANTYNE 
 
 music, yet not be distracted by the obtrusive monu 
 ments of the central aisle. Her neighbor of the bridge 
 had had the same thought, perhaps. At any rate, 
 there he sat near the Shakespeare monument, whose 
 noble figure faces the world in serene surety of its 
 place and right. Marion looked again at the man s 
 face, trying, as was her fashion, to define its meaning. 
 Sensitive, delicate, yet strong it was, every feature 
 clear-cut, and the drooping mustache not hiding the 
 firm lines of the lips, firm in spite of the gentleness 
 of the mouth. The dark brown hair was closely cut, 
 with only an indication that its natural tendency was 
 to wave, and the forehead rose broad and white above 
 the slightly bronzed cheeks. 
 
 " A soldier, perhaps," she thought. " He looks as 
 if he had come from some campaign, and yet there is 
 the look of a student, too." 
 
 Speculation ended here, for the anthem had begun, 
 and she leaned her head against the screen as the clear 
 notes rose higher and higher, seeming at last part of 
 the many-colored light of the glorious windows, which 
 darkened slowly till the aisles were lost in shadow and 
 the candles burned dim. It was so dark that, as she 
 roused to a consciousness of it, it puzzled her, since 
 it was still early and the sky had been only moderately 
 clouded when she entered. When the last notes of 
 the organ died away, she still lingered. The people 
 were an extraordinary length of time in getting out, 
 and presently one of the old vergers, who knew her 
 face, came to her and said : 
 
BALLANTYNE 57 
 
 u Can I elp you, miss ? Did you border a cab to 
 wait, maybe ? The fog s uncommon thick." 
 
 Marion hastily made her way to the south door, 
 from which the last stragglers were moving, and 
 uttered an exclamation of dismay as she saw the 
 character of the fog, a dense, dirty yellow masking 
 everything, and thickening every moment. 
 
 " I m hafraid you ll ave trouble, miss," the verger 
 said. " I 11 see if there s a cab houtside." 
 
 He vanished in the fog, returning speedily with a 
 shake of the head. 
 
 "They re hall taken, miss, but I m doubting if 
 they 11 get anywhere. Hit s lucky hit s Sunday, and 
 no traffic, for maybe you can make out to walk." 
 
 " Allow me to look a little farther," a voice said ; 
 and the stranger, who had been standing just behind 
 them, came forward. "There are probably plenty up 
 in the Square, and I will send one down if you will 
 wait." 
 
 "Thanks," Marion said after an instant s hesita 
 tion. " If you are really going that way, and it will 
 not trouble you." 
 
 " On the contrary," he said, and disappeared in the 
 fog. The old verger closed the doors. 
 
 " I 11 be on the lookout," he said ; and Marion fol 
 lowed him as he slowly put out the candles, leaving 
 one or two, which made only faint yellow spots 
 against the shadow. She sat down at last, the old 
 man going at intervals to the door, and presently the 
 stranger appeared again. 
 
58 BALLANTYNE 
 
 " I m awfully sorry," he said ; " but the fog is really 
 most uncommon, and the people coming out of St. 
 Martin s seem to have taken every cab." 
 
 " I think I can walk," Marion said, hastily. " It is 
 only Chelsea, and there is nothing to do but go straight 
 on." 
 
 " I am going to Chelsea, too," he said, " and if you 
 will allow me, can help you, perhaps." 
 
 u You d better not try it halone," the old verger 
 said, his look of suspicion having changed to approval. 
 " There s never hany knowing what turn such a fog 
 will take, hand a man s andy when there s trouble." 
 
 Marion went out silently, a little disturbed, but with 
 no want of confidence in her guide. 
 
 " It s a little too late for this sort of thing," he 
 said, "but it is a part of the London experience. 
 It will all be tradition by the end of the twentieth 
 century, and then we shall be immensely ashamed of 
 ourselves for having submitted to it so long. We 
 shall be certain of a cab at Victoria," he added, as they 
 gave themselves to the slow progress forward ; but 
 when Victoria was reached, the policeman at the gate 
 shook his head. 
 
 " There s not a cab to be ad for love nor for 
 money," he said, " for the hexpress his just in, hand 
 hevery one taken." 
 
 " We must go right on, then," Marion said, reso 
 lutely. u It is not so bad as it seems, if only it will 
 not thicken any deeper." 
 
 " Fortunately, I have had this to do more than 
 
BALLANTYNE 59 
 
 once," her guide replied. " I know all the turns. 
 Where am I to take you ? " 
 
 "To Cheyne Walk," Marion said. "I am so 
 sorry, since it is so far." 
 
 "That is my own goal," he said as they crept on ; 
 and then he talked of Chelsea and the odd life to be 
 found there, keeping always close to wall or railing as 
 the fog thickened, more and more pungent with smoke 
 and soot caught in its meshes. 
 
 Marion s eyes smarted and her throat burned as she 
 walked on, each step less and less assured, for even 
 the lamp-posts had lost their outline, and a yard ahead 
 nothing was discernible. It seemed hours before the 
 end of King s Road was reached, and the stranger 
 said : 
 
 " Do you turn to the right or the left ? " 
 
 " To the right," Marion answered. " It is only a 
 few houses down ; but you will never be able to see 
 the numbers. It is Mrs. General Pattle s." 
 
 " Ah ! " he said, " that is mine also. We are neigh 
 bors. I am the other lodger." 
 
 Marion felt no surprise. It was all part of the gen 
 eral mystery in which she moved. The stranger was 
 feeling his way carefully along the railings, and once 
 ran up some steps and struck a match or two as he 
 searched for the number. 
 
 " Three doors more," he said as he returned ; and 
 Marion followed, a long breath of relief coming in 
 voluntarily as the door opened at last and she found 
 herself in her own place. 
 
60 BALLANTYNE 
 
 u Thank you so very much ! " she said. " I do 
 not know what I could have done without you," 
 and she passed on to her own rooms. The fire 
 burned brightly. Polly stood waiting, wringing her 
 hands with anxiety, and melting into tears as she saw 
 Marion s tired face ; and Mrs. Pattle herself appeared, 
 to testify to her own alarm and her satisfaction at the 
 ending of the affair. 
 
 ct The lodger ! " she cried, as Marion explained 
 how she had come. tl And you not knowing his 
 name even, nor he yours any more, unless, maybe, 
 he told you." 
 
 " No," Marion said, smiling. " Everything but 
 the fog was forgotten." 
 
 " That s quite natural and proper, me dear," Mrs. 
 Pattle said, " after all that you d gone through ; but 
 it s no harm your knowing, though you could live 
 here a lifetime, maybe, and never meet him. It s 
 not so bad a name at all, since there s a Scotch begin 
 ning somewhere, though it s English he is now, and 
 it s short and easy to speak. Ballantyne it is, with 
 a ring of the Covenanters in it ; and where he comes 
 from, that I don t know, though he d the finest of 
 references, that I would never read, more n the 
 names, since his face tells the only tale I m wanting, 
 and his name s a true one, John Ballantyne." 
 
Chapter Fifth 
 
 I 
 
 was ample time for Marion to put 
 together vague memories aroused by the 
 name, suddenly spoken and unheard 
 since the day in which she had listened 
 to Friend Barstow s droning voice as he told of the 
 shipwreck, and the faces of the children seemed to 
 start out before her: John Ballantyne. Over and 
 over the name said itself, yet it must be pure coinci 
 dence, for long ago the surviving child had probably 
 returned to his own place. But possibilities would 
 come uppermost in the interminable two days in 
 which fog ruled, breaking for a moment to settle 
 again, dirtier, yellower, more insufferable every hour, 
 invading every inch of space, and pervading alike 
 food, drink, and breath. 
 
 Most of all in her wanderings came the question 
 why no word of them had ever been spoken by her 
 father. Neither through him nor in any other fashion 
 was there the slightest clue to the family or its his 
 tory. Her impulse had been to ask, but now she 
 rejected it. Why make an inquiry that might be 
 disagreeable to him and disillusioning to herself? 
 Outwardly everything, in voice, dress, and manner, 
 
62 BALLANTYNE 
 
 indicated the type of Englishmen best known and 
 best liked. If an American, and as she thought, 
 she added at once, " Impossible," he was outside 
 any plan the year had for her. Till that ended she 
 would invite no possible complication ; and she put 
 away resolutely the persistent question that with every 
 recurrence of the name refused to be put down. 
 
 To hold to such resolution would seem to be easy. 
 The double floors and thick walls of the old house 
 deadened all sounds save now and then a faint echo 
 of Mrs. Pattle s high-pitched voice in some Scotch 
 ballad, a voice that seemed an only slightly humanized 
 bagpipe, and that wailed at stray intervals through 
 strange chants that may have fired the souls of her 
 Gaelic ancestors, but had rightful place to-day only 
 on moor or heather. From above no sound came, 
 and as a day or two went on she dismissed further 
 thought of the disturbing name and busied herself 
 absorbedly with her clay. 
 
 " The fog was worse than in all the winter, me 
 dear," Mrs. Pattle said a few evenings later, coming 
 in with a manner that indicated something in reserve, 
 to which fog was merely the preliminary. "A 
 woman must e en give way to it, but a man s no that 
 way, and Mr. Ballantyne went out and off as if it 
 were but clear sunshine. He 11 not be up, I m 
 thinking, before January, maybe. It s not lonely 
 you re ever getting, is it, Miss Lacy ? " 
 
 "Not yet," Marion made answer abstractedly, 
 for there was something quite wrong with the eye- 
 
BALLANTYNE 63 
 
 brow of her figure, which appeared to bulge 
 suddenly. 
 
 u I could wish you d said a different word," Mrs. 
 Pattle continued, u for here s one that comes all on 
 account of being certain you re lonely. She does n t 
 bide for fog or aught else, though I said to her plain, 
 you saw no one, being in mourning. T is an old 
 acquaintance of my husband the general s, though 
 indeed I would not ask on such a ground, since she 
 has a name of her own, and a good one. I m doubt 
 ing you ve ever heard it. She s Miss Barbara Ryde, 
 and indeed I think she s coming up whether or no." 
 
 " And indeed I am," said a calm but determined 
 voice from the doorway ; and Marion, astonished, but 
 wishing to spare Mrs. Pattle s feelings, turned and 
 faced the new arrival, who entered as if accustomed 
 to have place made for her, and advanced with a face 
 as calm as her voice. 
 
 " Call me impertinent if you like," she said; " I see 
 it in your eye, and you may as well say it. But I am 
 interested. That is my excuse. I am interested in 
 a good many Americans, and, do you know, they 
 return it ! I wish to talk with you. May I have 
 the opportunity ? " 
 
 " Apparently, yes," said Marion, in whom indigna 
 tion still struggled with amusement, and who offered 
 a chair instinctively rather than willingly. Miss 
 Ryde s excellent figure was clad in what appeared to 
 be a gray poplin bag, guiltless of drapery, save a very 
 abbreviated overskirt, which as she moved forward 
 
64 BALLANTYNE 
 
 gave indication that the divided skirt had been 
 adopted. Her gray hair, smooth as satin, was brushed 
 behind her ears, and twisted into as uncompromising 
 a knot as ever adorned a New England woman of 
 faculty. Her cheeks were pink as a baby s, and her 
 brown eyes, which had little yellow spots here and 
 there, were clear and steady in look, with an occa 
 sional twinkle which testified to a consciousness of 
 other people s peculiarities, however they might dwell 
 upon her own. 
 
 u I never lose an opportunity to get a new idea, 
 or to make an interesting acquaintance," she said, 
 after a little silence, in which she looked straight 
 into Marion s eyes and nodded approvingly. "The 
 difficulty is there is so seldom opportunity for either. 
 Society seems to be trying to run itself into one 
 mould, and I have to admit it succeeds admirably. 
 I go about searching for the real under all this 
 veneer, and it is extraordinary how well it has been 
 tucked away. To be sure, definitions of the word 
 vary. You look real. How much so are you now, 
 actually ? " 
 
 u That would be very difficult to state," said 
 Marion after a moment, in which she met Miss 
 Ryde s twinkling" eyes. " Do you think it worth 
 while to try at present ? " 
 
 u Perhaps not, though really you might as well. 
 You can t evade me. I shall know for myself 
 whether you tell me or not," said her visitor, after 
 another pause of scrutiny. " I am a more respon- 
 
BALLANTYNE 65 
 
 sible person than I seem. I have an old house in 
 Cheyne Walk, just below here, that I am certain you 
 would like to see, and that I shall be delighted to 
 have you. I am at home Sunday evenings, and you 
 can come then if you like. On other evenings I am 
 never at home, for I go to clubs. Clubs are my 
 chief interest, clubs and people ; but the two are 
 synonymous. I have heard myself called the Queen 
 of Clubs. I am going to one now. Would you 
 like to come, too ? " 
 
 " Yes," said Marion, who felt as if under a spell, 
 and who rose now mechanically to get her hat, while 
 Mrs. Pattle, who in early stages of the interview 
 had wrung her hands in the background, sunk into a 
 chair and gazed relieved yet reproachful at Miss Ryde. 
 
 " There, there," said the latter ; " you see that no 
 harm is done. I told you so and your lodger will 
 be the better off for knowing me." 
 
 " That s perfectly true," said Mrs. Pattle. " But 
 I for one think there s no harm in sticking to a little 
 form; and if you d waited a bit, it would have been 
 the same thing in the end, and more credit to you 
 and to me, and not as if we were wild savages, which, 
 to be sure, the English were in the beginning, and it s 
 not rightly out of them yet." 
 
 " And long may it be before it is," returned Miss 
 Ryde, undaunted ; " since it s that that s the one 
 grain of salt in a generation given to lying and truck 
 ling and meanness such as old days never knew. It 
 is because I will be a living protest that I waste no 
 
 5 
 
66 BALLANTYNE 
 
 time in preliminaries; and your lodger ought to be 
 thankful that it is so, and understand her privileges, 
 as she undoubtedly will before I am through with 
 her. Not that I am meaning to suck my orange 
 and toss the skin away when I am done," she added 
 to Marion, who had re-entered in time to hear her 
 last words. " Did you ever have an interior flash 
 and know what things meant ? I had one as I came 
 up the stairs, and another the first time I looked at 
 you, and made up my mind it was not for nothing. 
 Queer lights come to me on people and things as I 
 go searching, and here and there finding the real, 
 though mostly the sham comes uppermost. To-day 
 I believe it the real. And now will you come to 
 the Club?" 
 
 Miss Ryde arose, tied on her bonnet firmly, 
 arranged a small gray Shetland shawl over her ears, 
 buttoned her cloak, grasped her umbrella by the 
 middle, and went with a firm step down the stairs 
 and into the street. A mild drizzle had followed the 
 light fog of the morning, but she did not put up her 
 umbrella, and walked on as if enjoying it. 
 
 " The only drawback to life is my ears," she said, 
 presently. " You ieed n t try to talk, for I can t 
 hear at present ; but that is not my fault it belongs 
 to the generations before me. They ve all gone 
 deaf at sixty, and as I am nearing fifty I watch never 
 to be damp about the ears, and wear this Shetland, 
 light but efficient, you see, summer and winter. Do 
 you know where you are going ? " 
 
BALLANTYNE 67 
 
 " Hardly," said Marion, more and more bewil 
 dered. " It is not a chapel of any sftrt ? " 
 
 "That is impossible," returned Miss Ryde, with 
 scorn. " I wish either church or chapel had the 
 thing I 11 show you to-night ; but none have, save 
 here and there where a man has light in his mind 
 and not a patent extinguisher. It s a Radical Club, 
 and here we are." 
 
 " Then you are a Socialist ! " 
 
 " Not I," said Miss Ryde, who had pushed back 
 
 her shawl. " I watch what they are doing, and 
 
 they do some things well ; that is all." 
 
 They had been walking swiftly up King s Road ; 
 and now Miss Ryde turned suddenly, entered a door 
 in an old-fashioned building, and went through a 
 narrow passage in which several men were standing, 
 who nodded silently. One of them opened the 
 door into a large, low-ceiled room filled with people, 
 chiefly men, with a sprinkling of women and chil 
 dren ; a platform at one end holding a table, and 
 some chairs and a small piano, some final chords on 
 which were just being struck by a girl who slipped 
 away from it quietly and took a vacant place in the 
 front row. 
 
 " Look at her well," said Miss Ryde, as she dis 
 encumbered herself of the shawl and sat down, look 
 ing very much at ease and nodding here and there. 
 " Look at her well. You 11 not see many faces like 
 that. Never mind her gown. Her father s a poet 
 and her mother an aesthete, and her gowns are the 
 
68 BALLANTYNE 
 
 joint result of the madness of all three. It s her 
 face I see, not ; her gown." 
 
 Marion s eyes were already fixed upon it, for the 
 girl had turned to speak to some one behind her. It 
 was an exquisite face, delicate and sensitive in every 
 line, the soft, waving hair making an aureole about it, 
 and the deep, dark eyes holding the direct, child-like 
 look of Marion s own. 
 
 " There was never one like her," said Miss Ryde. 
 " Now listen, and you 11 hear things that are newer 
 to you than to me ; things you ve never heard, I 11 
 be bound." 
 
 The speaker of the evening had come forward : a 
 short, dark, eager-looking man, greeted with a storm 
 of applause, which he received with a little impa 
 tience, as if it were a distinct waste of time, and 
 checked suddenly with a deep " Let us come to 
 business." 
 
 There was another round before he could speak 
 again, and a voice from the background cried out, 
 " This is our business, John ! Now, you can attend 
 to yours, if you like." 
 
 " That is John Burns," said Miss Ryde in a whis 
 per, and then relapsed into contented silence, as his 
 speech began. Marion remembered now that three 
 years before he had been pointed out to her in Hyde 
 Park as the man who could make twenty thousand 
 people hear; and she could well believe it, since the 
 voice was a deep bass, subdued now to the require 
 ments of the room, but of a Vinging quality that 
 
BALLANTYNE 69 
 
 seemed to demand and imply great spaces. The 
 Scotch burr was on his tongue, though his English 
 was perfect, and he spoke with the entire ease and 
 freedom of the Scotchman, who in this respect has 
 close kinship with the American, the " added drop of 
 nervous fluid " being their possession no less than 
 ours. He was an agitator. That she knew, but 
 save for the word itself there was no hint of revolt or 
 upheaval in this evening s work, and she listened, at 
 first critically and coldly, then fascinated and absorbed. 
 
 " Agitate, organize, educate." This was the re 
 frain ; and to-night the third word led, and she found 
 that it was the final lecture on the three needs of the 
 present. He showed men their ignorance. He de 
 manded what right they had to expect betterment till 
 they had testified willingness to learn, and then he told 
 them what and how they must learn. 
 
 " You are on the way," he said. " There are 
 clearer heads listening to me to-night, there are 
 clearer heads among you workers, than you 11 find in 
 the House of Lords. Go on with the work you have 
 begun. Make yourselves fit for the life that must 
 come, but that won t and can t come till you are fit. 
 Revolt is useless. Naught can help you but your 
 selves. Study, men, and women as well, study. 
 Here is the chance. Learn what there is to do be 
 fore you seek to do it, and be sure that to your faith 
 you add knowledge, and don t howl for things that 
 you have not begun to comprehend. These sound 
 like Conservative words, but call them what you like, 
 
yo BALLANTYNE 
 
 they are words of truth. I know what I am talking 
 about; and I say to you and to every Radical Club 
 in London the same word : the faith that has not 
 knowledge for its foundation means destruction for 
 its holders. Educate, educate, educate ! and God 
 speed the time when every soul of you will know not 
 only his need and his right, but why he needs it and 
 why it is his right ! " 
 
 The running fire of u Hear, hear ! " changed to 
 prolonged applause as he sat down. Half a dozen 
 were on their feet at once, and for the next half-hour 
 there was an eager discussion as to methods, each 
 man practically a reporter of the work already going 
 on, since incidental mention came in of classes at 
 many points. 
 
 "Ten minutes more," the chairman said, and 
 Marion turned suddenly as the final speaker rose to 
 describe the work in a certain class in political 
 science, the teacher of which had kept silence, though 
 the result seemed admirable beyond anything yet ac 
 complished. It was the voice of the stranger who 
 had guided her home in the fog, raised now, but quiet 
 still ; a full rich voice, English in every accent, yet 
 smooth and flowing, with none of the hitches charac 
 teristic of English public speaking. Miss Ryde looked 
 round, well pleased. 
 
 " That s young Ballantyne," she said in a low 
 tone. " He s a Fabian, or partly so, anyway. He 11 
 be in Parliament soon, and the sooner the better. If 
 one could ever get at him for a bit of talk, but he 
 
BALLANTYNE 71 
 
 is busy here and busy there, and never to be had 
 when one wants him. It was he first told me what 
 these Clubs were like. Now it s over and we re to 
 go, unless you like to watch them out or speak to 
 some of them." 
 
 Miss Ryde had risen and arranged her head accord 
 ing to her theories, but paused now as one and an 
 other came up ; and Marion looked at the faces, all 
 of them of working-men, but of an order with which 
 she was not familiar, since they were as evidently 
 thinking men, with lines deep graven by long ponder 
 ing over many problems. Two or three of them 
 shook hands heartily ; and the girl who had played, 
 and who had come up to Miss Ryde, and stood now 
 watching Marion s face, smiled as she met her puz 
 zled look, and said : 
 
 "You must come again and find out what it all 
 means. Perhaps you would help us in the teaching, 
 if you are living in Chelsea." 
 
 " If there is anything I can teach," Marion said, 
 heartily. " But who needs it ? They have taught 
 me some things already that I did not know." 
 
 " I will come and see you and tell you all about 
 it," the girl said; " or Miss Ryde can. I see you 
 are with her." 
 
 " And she will be again, Eleanor, my dear," said 
 Miss Ryde, with a nod. " It s true I only called 
 on her at seven, and the acquaintance is a short one, 
 but it is bound to be longer, and you will help. This 
 is Eleanor Norris, Miss Lacy, and you will have no 
 
72 BALLANTYNE 
 
 better guide to some of the things you are to know. 
 If you choose to come and see me, you will see her, 
 too, for she comes and goes as she pleases, and Jane 
 bears with her better than with most." 
 
 u Jane is a very much more conservative and repu 
 table person than Miss Ryde herself, as you will soon 
 discover," said Miss Norris with a smile, her eyes 
 still studying Marion s face; and Miss Ryde nodded 
 gravely as if the fact were incontrovertible. 
 
 " If you want to know where you have been," she 
 went on, as they made their way into the street, 
 " that is the Eleusis Club, a nonsensical name to 
 my thinking, but they seem to like it. And now I 11 
 see you home, since there was no arrangement for 
 your maid s coming, though indeed it s as safe here 
 as in your own rooms. There s another Club in 
 Battersea that I go to to-morrow, and, if you like, we 
 will try it together. And will you come to me Sun 
 day, not for half an hour, but to stay the evening, 
 and to see how you like it ? You may not like me, 
 but you will like my house. Me you are not obliged 
 to like under any circumstances." 
 
 Miss Ryde stopped under a street lamp and nodded 
 emphatically as she looked into Marion s face. 
 
 " Do you know why I came this evening ? " she 
 said. " I have no time for visits and ceremonies, 
 and I have naught to do longer with what is called 
 society. But I saw you a week ago, sitting there by 
 the old Carlyle, and the way you looked at him made 
 me watch you ; and when I saw you go into Mrs. 
 
BALLANTYNE 73 
 
 Pattle s, I knew, of course, you were American, and I 
 said I would know you if you did n t contradict your 
 face. I 11 come to you to-morrow evening at seven, 
 and you shall see what you think of Battersea, unless 
 indeed you have had enough." 
 
 " I will go with pleasure," Marion said, entirely 
 reconciled to her abrupt acquaintance, and looking 
 after her with interest as she strode away from the 
 door which had just opened. 
 
 "Come in here a minute or two, me dear," said 
 Mrs. Pattle, emerging from her own rooms as Marion 
 entered. " I ve been watching to speak with you ; 
 for though I said to myself that you were sensible 
 enough to see what Miss Ryde was like, there *s no 
 telling what she 11 do. She s always watching the 
 Americans I have here, but there s never one before 
 she gave the entry to her house. With all her ways 
 she s a lady born and bred, and she holds to the old 
 for all she runs after the new. You 11 see that for 
 yourself. But there s naught on the Lord s earth 
 that goes its way never caring like your English 
 woman that has money, and blood enough to know 
 what her place is worth ; and she has both. I 11 tell 
 you a bit about her." 
 
 Marion had settled into a chair, and Mrs. Pattle 
 crossed her hands and looked at her with delighted 
 approval. 
 
 " Her sense is wonderful, and her ways are many 
 and past finding out, and if that is Scripture, which 
 I do not feel certain, may the Lord forgive me ! " 
 
74 BALLANTYNE 
 
 Mrs. Pattle said devoutly. " Miss Ryde s father was 
 a city man, it is true, but he married Sir Archibald 
 Hetherington s daughter, the only one, and the old 
 place in Devonshire, theirs since the day of that rob 
 ber and spoiler of men, William the Norman himself. 
 Mr. Thomas Ryde was a merchant, t is true, but 
 of good stock, since the house is well nigh as old 
 as London itself; but nobody knows why she fell in 
 love, or how they settled upon it. T was his money 
 brought up the old place, that the last Hetherington 
 had run into the ground, and the Jews with their 
 hands deep in every Hetherington pocket ; and t was 
 he bought the old house here in Chelsea where Miss 
 Ryde was born. T was a male heir must have the 
 Devonshire property, and so she was out, for never a 
 son had come to them, and her mother dead in her 
 babyhood. So she lived on with her father, a man 
 well on in years when he married, quite fifty, I am 
 told, and dying at eighty, that collected everything 
 till the house was a museum, as you 11 see, me dear, 
 and she the despair of Jane her maid and all the old 
 servants, because she is always having strange people. 
 Not that you re strange," Mrs. Pattle hastened to 
 add ; " for indeed it is plain you ve known the best 
 as well as she. But there s never telling what she 11 
 do, and I was fearful this evening you d not see 
 t was her way of paying a visit, and maybe feel I 
 could have kept her out. The angel with the flaming 
 sword could not keep her out if once she settled to 
 come in ; but for all that she s Miss Barbara Hether- 
 
BALLANTYN E 75 
 
 ington Ryde, and one must bear with her. She knew 
 my husband the general well, and has much kind 
 ness for me, so that I must e en let her go her own 
 way ; and I m glad you re not offended, me dear, 
 for I would not have you so, though indeed you re 
 too sensible, I m certain, and you d see she was not 
 daft a bit, but only used to her way, and like all the 
 English, with no mind to see that another might have 
 their own as well. And I 11 go now, and not go on, 
 me dear, for you re tired and must rest ; and good 
 night to you." 
 
Chapter Sixth 
 
 " -W "W" "THAT are you in England for ? What 
 ^L ^^ / are so many Americans over here 
 ^y ^ for?" said Miss Ryde abruptly, as 
 she sat waiting the next evening, 
 while Marion made ready for the trip to the unknown 
 regions of Battersea. She was in the same uniform 
 as on the preceding evening, but had added to her 
 generally determined aspect an air of calm proprie 
 torship, which ignored any fact of slight foundation 
 for its existence, and seemed prepared to encompass 
 hereafter every going out and coming in. 
 
 " You think I m curious, but I am not ! " pur 
 sued Miss Ryde, after a pause in which Marion 
 looked at her silently for a moment. " I am quite 
 indifferent to the world at large, but if I am to know 
 any one, while I take them precisely where I find 
 them, I like also to know the purpose of the time in 
 which I find them and what they are after. I wish 
 to ask, also, how Auberon Forster s portrait is in that 
 row on your chimney-piece ? " 
 
 "Naturally because he was one of my father s 
 best friends," said Marion. 
 
 " Ha ! " said Miss Ryde. " That accounts for 
 
BALLANTYNE 77 
 
 it. Now I see what has puzzled me. I saw you 
 as a child, fourteen or thereabouts, at his house ; 
 the only time that I was ever there. I abominate 
 lawyers, and I have no taste for Assyrian dynasties, 
 and so naturally avoided him. Then you know 
 London ? " 
 
 "Perfectly till the last three years," Marion 
 
 replied. 
 
 " Ha ! " said Miss Ryde again, and remained 
 silent till they had crossed the bridge. 
 
 " I suppose you know that an English girl of your 
 age and position could n t do what you are doing now," 
 she said, suddenly stopping short and facing Marion. 
 "Americans do much as they please, and they are 
 right. You have fallen into good hands, and no 
 matter what you may think, you are in better when 
 you fall into mine. I shall not interfere. You are 
 only to understand that I mean to have some eye to 
 you, and that I wish you to come to my house, 
 where you will undoubtedly meet some you have 
 known and more you will like to know. Will you 
 come ? I do not ask twice, and I never ask any one 
 whom I do not distinctly wish to see." 
 
 " Yes, I will come," Marion said ; and Miss Ryde, 
 placing her umbrella against the bridge, shook hands 
 formally and seriously, and then resuming it, strode 
 on in silence, broken now and then by half words 
 and small guttural sounds as if a flood of speech 
 were struggling to make its way. 
 
 The evening held hardly less interest than the 
 
78 BALLANTYNE 
 
 preceding one, and on Saturday morning Miss Norris 
 called and asked if she would help one evening in 
 the week in the work they were doing in Chelsea. 
 
 " You must talk with my father about it all," she 
 said. " We are always at Miss Ryde s for Sunday 
 evenings, and you are coming, she tells me." 
 
 "Yes, I am coming," Marion said, "though I 
 did not mean to see people till " 
 
 She stopped and colored a little. Precisely what 
 she had wished to say was hardly plain to herself, 
 and how could she make it plain to another ? Miss 
 Norris hurried away, and Marion, after an ineffectual 
 attempt to work, went to South Kensington and 
 spent the rest of the day in the Museum. 
 
 Why her pulse should quicken and a little thrill 
 go through her as she lifted the quaint knocker of 
 the old house early Sunday evening, Marion could 
 not tell, but the quickening was there, and remained 
 as a stern and inflexible maid opened the door and 
 preceded her up the broad stairway to the drawing- 
 room. Miss Barbara Ryde in black velvet gown 
 and some beautiful old lace was a creature so distinct 
 from the shrouded one who for several evenings had 
 been her escort to strange corners of Battersea, that 
 Marion would hardly have recognized her. 
 
 " You are to take Miss Lacy up and see that she 
 is comfortable, Jane," were her first words. "She 
 has not come to go but to stay, and indeed that is 
 so with most that come. I have no time for tran 
 sient people." 
 
BALLANTYNE 79 
 
 Marion followed the inflexible Jane, getting no 
 distinct impression of anything but thick Turkey 
 carpets, innumerable cabinets and stands, and walls 
 covered with pictures, miniatures, and all that could 
 hang. She was still in mourning, worn in deference 
 to Aunt Theodosia s wish, but against her own, and 
 which she had meant long ago to put aside ; but the 
 beautiful head with its rippling hair, and the pure 
 paleness with a hint of color in the cheeks, were 
 both accented by the black. Marion had the Lacy 
 hands, not small but exquisitely formed, and Jane 
 gazed upon her with as much approval as could be 
 accorded to an American, remarking to the parlor 
 maid as she descended, that for one who came from 
 a country where most were savages, she had a look 
 that might even be English. 
 
 A little group was gathered at the end of the room 
 when Marion re-entered it, where a set of drawings 
 were hung in a strong light, one of which had been 
 taken down and was in the hands of a gentleman 
 whose back was turned. 
 
 " A man perfect in his way and beautifully unfit 
 for walking in the way of any other man," she heard, 
 with instant desire to know who it could be. Vari 
 ous people were scattered about, and from another 
 group Miss Norris came forward cordially. 
 
 " My father is here," she said, " and he wants to 
 know you, and a friend also who is sitting by him. 
 Miss Ryde will take you presently when her sofa is 
 empty. It is true German fashion that rules here. 
 
80 BALLANTYNE 
 
 The sofa is the centre, and we all take our turn in 
 going up to it, but it is not so much of an ordeal as it 
 sounds. Papa, this is our new friend you have so 
 wanted to talk with, and here is a quiet corner for us 
 all." 
 
 Mr. Norris put out a cordial hand as he rose; a 
 tall man with close-curling gray hair and beard, and 
 brown eyes like his daughter s, a gentle, rather dreamy 
 face, yet lighting with quick gleams of humor ; a man 
 of many tastes, and a writer of delicate, graceful 
 verse, with often a stronger quality. Marion knew 
 the poems, but cared most for his art work, for his 
 knowledge was beyond question, and his taste of 
 the simplest and purest. He had been in the midst 
 of earnest talk as his daughter spoke, and Marion 
 after a word or two said, " Pray go on, and let me 
 listen, if I may," and seated herself by the stout lady, 
 who had made room with a smile and continued the 
 interrupted remark. 
 
 " It is excellent theory, but your theory would 
 wipe out a room like this," she said. 
 
 u This room is abnormal and outside my judg 
 ment," said Mr. Norris. " In one way it is justifi 
 able, since it is a growth, and means the devotion of 
 an intelligent collector. But it is a museum, chiefly, 
 and will find its proper place presently at South Ken 
 sington, since these treasures belong to the public, 
 not to the individual." 
 
 "There crops out your socialism," said the first 
 speaker. "Without the individual the community 
 
BALLANTYNE 81 
 
 would hardly have been likely to possess them. The 
 fact is, individualism must lead, else your community 
 will go bare. It requires the highest development of 
 individualism to have just perception of values." 
 
 " Norris s theory wipes out individualism and 
 values together," interrupted a short man with fiery 
 hair and gleaming blue eyes, who had crossed the 
 room silently, and stood now looking at Marion, 
 whose eyes were fixed on Mr. Norris s face, and 
 who recognized the voice as the one that had been 
 speaking when she entered. 
 
 " What is value ? " asked the latter, with a smile 
 at Marion, a smile as fascinating as the daughter s. 
 
 " That depends upon your chosen authority in 
 Political Economy," returned the new-comer, seat 
 ing himself in a three-cornered chair with an air of 
 the most absolute ease and satisfaction. " So far as 
 I am concerned, it lies in the possession of anything 
 I want at the minute, from smooth-flowing ink to 
 toast of the right shade of brown. It is possible that 
 this may come under the head of the definition of 
 wealth, but the two to me are synonymous. Sensa 
 tion heightens in the same ratio as the value, or 
 would, for instance, if I could persuade Miss Ryde 
 here to give me one of her Blakes for one of my 
 Turners, both madmen, it is true, but then they 
 could draw, which remark does not apply to the 
 modern school." 
 
 "On the contrary, Turner never pretended to 
 draw," said Mr. Norris, in his slow musical voice. 
 
 6 
 
82 BALLANTYNE 
 
 " His methods are a splash and a squirt ; a splash 
 from a rainbow and a squirt of pure sunshine, I 
 admit, but no more drawing, Beresford, than in that 
 pea-green c nocturne I looked at with you yesterday." 
 
 "There is too little and too much and never just 
 enough," said Mr. Beresford with a groan, but pre 
 serving his cheerful expression. " As you saw the 
 pea-green nocturne, you saw also, then, the study in 
 anatomy next it : the livid young woman, resurrected 
 apparently after several days underground, and the 
 modern conception of Hope. She needs it, poor 
 soul, for nothing else is left ; but why it must smell 
 of the grave in order to meet popular expectation, 
 who shall say ? Blake is preposterous, but then he 
 puts his corpses where they belong and has a good 
 sense of flesh and blood. That bit I had in my hand 
 a while ago, I d give, well, a fair price," he 
 said, interrupting himself, for Miss Ryde had risen 
 and was moving toward them. 
 
 " Busy as usual, running down whatever is good 
 and running up whatever is bad ? " she said, interroga 
 tively. 
 
 " No, unless your Blakes are frauds," returned Mr. 
 Beresford, cheerfully. u I have often thought there 
 was grave doubt as to that lowest one. He s easy to 
 imitate, you see, and the demand for him came all at 
 once, and it is quite likely you might be deceived 
 where your father could not be." 
 
 " I ? " said Miss Ryde, with a gasp. " The lowest 
 one, you say ; the cream of them all ? Miss Lacy, 
 
BALLANTYNE 83 
 
 come and see, and whether you Ve knowledge of such 
 work or no, look if ever you saw painted wind that 
 could be felt as it blows there. Turn it full to the 
 ligh^ John Ballantyne ; Miss Lacy must see well." 
 
 As she spoke she had drawn Marion toward the 
 corner, and Mr. Ballantyne, turning from the friend 
 with whom he had been in close talk, bowed quietly 
 and took down the drawing. It held the gnarled and 
 laboring branches of an ancient oak, bowed hedgerows, 
 and fields of corn beyond ; every blade distinct and 
 straightened out in the wind that whirled across this 
 open country. Above it the moon rode high; not 
 quailing nor flickering as one would fancy she must 
 before such a gale, but the fire in her crescent, a white 
 triumphal light above cloud and blast. Why this 
 steady light above the cloud should carry such sense 
 of storm and passion ; why, indeed, the narrow bound 
 ary of the drawing could ever have been made to hold 
 it, Marion could not comprehend, but she felt the 
 power that had wrought in every line, and Miss Ryde 
 nodded, well satisfied as she saw the delight in her 
 face. 
 
 "There s your answer, Beresford," she said. 
 " There s naught on earth you won t question, but 
 you owe it to a man who worked out his honest 
 thought without a stain of falsehood from beginning 
 to end, not to deny what his own hand did, even for 
 a good joke against an old woman." 
 
 Mr. Beresford sprang up and bowed low before her. 
 
 " Madam," he said, with a sudden change of tone, 
 
84 BALLANTYNE 
 
 " we are too old friends not to understand each other. 
 You can never honor William Blake more than I do. 
 Nothing is cheaper or easier than funeral speeches, 
 but this drawing would give his quality if not another 
 line were left on the earth." 
 
 Miss Ryde looked at him with a smile. 
 
 "You Ve an Irish tongue, Beresford," she said, 
 " and you do what you choose with it. For the most 
 part I find no fault with its uses ; " and she moved away 
 with him to the sofa, where, conscience-stricken for 
 having so played on her feelings, he devoted himself to 
 still further placating her. Jane, who had some time 
 before lighted the lamp under the beautiful kettle on a 
 little table near Miss Ryde, entered now with hot but 
 tered tea-cakes, which followed each other in relays, 
 accompanied by Devonshire cream, and a rich jam 
 made apparently of several fruits, which Miss Ryde 
 announced as also Devonshire. 
 
 " I dine early on Sunday," she said to Marion, 
 "and I am opposed to early supper, so those who 
 come to me must satisfy themselves as they can. Mr. 
 Ballantyne will take care of you, and you are to look 
 at his teacup as well as your own, for they are some 
 of the first Royal Worcester, and none but I and Jane 
 ever handle one of them." 
 
 " You must look at everything," Mr. Ballantyne 
 said, as he made place for her in the corner. u It is 
 a distracting but delightful prospect, though for my 
 self I think I prefer this end of the room to any other, 
 for Blake has always fascinated me. These drawings 
 
BALLANTYNE 85 
 
 need strong daylight, however, and it is hardly fair to 
 begin with them in this mixture of twilight and 
 candle-light." 
 
 Marion s eyes had wandered from them to the 
 river, still plain to see in the soft, lingering English 
 twilight, boats passing now and then soundlessly, and 
 only an occasional voice breaking the silence of the 
 silent English Sunday. Then she turned back to her 
 tea-cake, eating it with critical enjoyment, as well as 
 her portion of the curious conserve, which had half a 
 dozen flavors, blending in one peculiar, desirable, and 
 yet quite undefinable one. 
 
 " It is like the room," she said at last as Mr. Bal- 
 lantyne, who had been watching her while he chatted 
 on, asked : 
 
 " What is the result of the investigation ? " 
 
 " It must have begun in the West Indies, I think," 
 Marion answered. " I have had something like it at 
 my grandfather s in Nantucket." 
 
 " Ha ! " said Miss Ryde, who had bent forward 
 and caught her words. " What creatures these 
 Americans are ! They eat everything and remember 
 everything. You are perfectly right. It is West 
 Indian, and my grandfather had the rule from a 
 daughter who married and went to Jamaica, and the 
 old housekeeper made it from her directions, just the 
 same, only with, of course, English fruits. There 
 is rum in it, among many other things, but none to 
 do harm. You may have more, John Ballantyne, 
 if you wish." 
 
86 BALLANTYNE 
 
 " Next Sunday," he said, as Miss Ryde herself 
 brought the dish of jam. " It is only for Sundays. 
 Do you see the dish, Miss Lacy ? It is only a 
 bubble that has consented not to break. I have 
 never seen you use that before, Miss Ryde." 
 
 u No, but I am taking the cabinets in turn, and I 
 mean that each thing in them shall have its use before 
 I am done with them," his hostess made answer, 
 holding the exquisite thing against the light. " If 
 they break, it is one less trouble for my heirs ; but 
 they don t break. Now, Miss Lacy, it is your turn. 
 I have been put off long enough by one and another; " 
 and Marion, who had seen in the young man s eyes 
 a sudden astonished and intent look as she said the 
 words " my grandfather in Nantucket," found her 
 self on the great sofa, and facing Miss Ryde in a new 
 character, that of the hostess, serenely happy in dis 
 pensing her hospitality, and enjoying knowing how 
 to bring and hold together people of most varying 
 opinions and convictions. 
 
 " Now I will tell you who they all are," she said. 
 " You will get to know them better if you take it 
 gradually, as you will, if you come here often." 
 
 " Just as often as you will let me," Marion said. 
 " It is the most charming old room I ever saw. 
 Room and people are delightful alike. You are very 
 good to let me come." 
 
 " Sometimes they are delightful, and sometimes 
 they are not," said Miss Ryde, with a grim look 
 toward the stout lady who still held Mr. Norris at 
 
BALLANTYNE 87 
 
 her side. " People ought to come together with no 
 personal ends to serve, and only general comfort in 
 view. But you can t manage a drawing-room as you 
 manage a lecture-room. I take my Clubs through 
 the week, but I don t want to be pinned to any one 
 man s expounding on Sunday, and there comes in the 
 one difficulty with convictions. Nobody ever can 
 have as much of Norris as they wish, because Madame 
 Bogavsky is bent upon converting him to Theosophy. 
 Those three people by the tall cabinet in the corner 
 are all Theosophists, an artist, an author, and a 
 member of Parliament, who might be in better busi 
 ness. What people want of a religion whose heaven 
 is distinctly more disagreeable than a well-regulated 
 hell I can t see, but I don t doubt she will explain it 
 all to you, and it is worth while to listen a bit, if 
 only to feel your privileges in not being a chela or 
 any of the other things, and forced to concentrate ten 
 years maybe on the pit of your own stomach. 
 
 " This is all it is worth while saying about them," 
 she went on after a pause of indignation. " That 
 little lady with the pretty voice and mild eyes is the 
 editor of an Anarchist paper, and would blow both 
 my house and me up in a minute for the good of 
 society ; and the big man she s talking with is Lord 
 Dalrymple, Conservative member from Boston not 
 yours, but ours. That tallest man by the middle 
 window is my cousin, Lord Herbert Hetherington, 
 who has the old place, and is the apostle of what he 
 calls individualism ; and the lady near him has ex- 
 
88 BALLANTYNE 
 
 plained him in a book, and is a woman of sense in 
 spite of it. The other one, that short, dark man 
 distracted by his eyeglass, and he deserves to be, 
 for why were we born with two eyes, if not to use 
 them ? is young Dyce, the editor of a series of 
 some sort. Everything is a c series now. He came 
 out of the North somewhere, and is deep in love with 
 Eleanor there, who cares more for his series than for 
 him. The rest are a mixture. They all come and 
 go ; some because they like my house, and the people 
 they meet ; one or two because they are old friends, 
 and we are loyal to each other, and should ill bear 
 missing a look at each other s faces ; and the rest I 
 measure and sift, and get rid of if necessary." 
 
 " And Mr. Ballantyne ? " Marion said after a little 
 pause in which she waited, wondering if his name 
 would come next. She had colored slightly as she 
 spoke, but Miss Ryde, whose eyes were fixed on 
 Eleanor Norris s face, alive now with mischief as she 
 talked with Mr. Beresford, did not notice it. 
 
 " Ah, he is one of the old ones," she said, " though 
 not of the oldest. He was with young Herbert 
 Hetherington at Oxford, and kept him in a straight 
 track when no other mortal ever could, and for that 
 alone he would be friend to all of us. When he 
 leaves us, for leave he will some day, though that 
 means that his mother must die first, for he cannot 
 till she is gone, there will be no one to take his 
 place, and so, in spite of the longing that is in him, 
 I cannot but wish her long life. It will not be hers, 
 
BALLANTYNE 89 
 
 though. She holds on with a will, but it can t last, 
 and then he will be free." 
 
 u That is a strange word," Marion said, u for the 
 death of one nearest him." 
 
 " Ah, but you do not understand," began Miss 
 Ryde, and then checked herself. " I 11 tell you 
 some day," she said. " Now I have had you longer 
 than is my right, and there is Eleanor shaking her 
 head at me. Tell that young Dyce I want him, you 
 gypsy, and then go off with your prize in what corner 
 you will." 
 
 u We must go altogether very soon, indeed," said 
 Miss Norris, " but we can talk a little first. I want 
 you to promise to come to us, Miss Lacy, for till 
 you do, there will never really be time to talk to you 
 as I wish. When I come up, it is always with some 
 specific thing to do, except these Sunday evenings, 
 which have belonged to Miss Ryde as long as I can 
 remember. She and my father were children together. 
 I want you to understand all that we are doing all 
 that we are hoping for. Mr. Ballantyne is coming 
 down on Wednesday, to dine and talk over the 
 new scheme of young Herbert Hetherington s, and 
 I wonder if you would not come at the same time ? 
 You will, I am sure, and we will put you up for the 
 night. Mr. Ballantyne, I have a plan," she went 
 on, as he turned from Mr. Hetherington and came 
 toward her. " I have begged Miss Lacy to come 
 down on Wednesday, and she is so good as to say 
 she will." 
 
90 BALLANTYNE 
 
 u Then perhaps Miss Lacy will allow me to be her 
 guide again ? " he said, quickly. 
 
 " With pleasure," Marion replied, as he sat down 
 by her with the same eager look in his eyes. 
 
 " Tell me, please," he said, as Miss Norris rose 
 suddenly to speak to some one who was passing out. 
 " You are an American, are you not ? I supposed 
 you English till that word of yours. Is it possible 
 that you are from Nantucket ? " 
 
 u Not I, but my father," Marion answered. " I 
 was born in Boston, but my father was the son of 
 Grantham Lacy, old Captain Lacy of Nantucket, 
 
 and was born there." 
 
 " And my father was the son of Captain John 
 Ballantyne, your grandfather s cousin from New Bed 
 ford, and my mother was born in Nantucket." 
 
 " Ah ! " said Marion, involuntarily. " It was a 
 John, then, that came to shore, just as old Friend 
 Barstow hoped." 
 
 " Yes," he said, with an astonished look. " I am 
 the sixth John Ballantyne for America." 
 
 " And an American ! I do not know how to 
 believe it." 
 
 <c Yes, thank God, I am American ! " said John 
 Ballantyne, with a little motion as if there were hat 
 to doff at the name. " I seem English, I suppose, 
 because my life has been lived here, but I am held 
 here by circumstance. I will tell you, when we go 
 together, if I may. But I am an American indeed ; 
 
 an American to the finest fibre in me, and with 
 
BALLANTYNE 91 
 
 Lacy blood in your veins you can be no less 
 
 so. 
 
 " On the contrary," said Marion, after a breathless 
 pause in which she longed to be silent, but felt she 
 must not be, " I do not love America. There have 
 been times when I have even loathed it. It means 
 to me some of the worst things in modern life. I am 
 heartily and devotedly English in my feeling." 
 
 As Marion spoke the fervor in Ballantyne s face 
 gave place to amazement, and then a deep pity looked 
 from his eyes, mingled with a little indignation. 
 
 "You are like one or two others that I have seen," 
 he said. " You do not understand. You " 
 
 " John Ballantyne ! You said you were to go 
 down to Badgeley to-night, and a cab is at the door," 
 called Miss Ryde suddenly from the doorway ; and 
 with a hasty, " This must wait, but I shall come for 
 you on Wednesday," he bowed and hurried away. 
 
Chapter Seventh 
 
 1 "W "W* "THAT have you been doing ? " Miss 
 ^ ^L I Ryde asked suspiciously, looking from 
 ^y W the Embankment down to the land 
 ing and the little boat from which 
 Marion was just stepping, still smiling and waving 
 her hand to the grizzled old sailor, a Chelsea pen 
 sioner, who touched his cap, and looked at her ad 
 miringly as she went up the stairs. u Have you let 
 that old reprobate fill your head with his fabrications, 
 and how dare you go on the river alone ? " 
 
 " Nothing could be truer than his tales," said 
 Marion, who was finding that calm opposition was 
 the best method of meeting Miss Ryde s aggressive 
 side. "The river rests and stimulates me at once. 
 I have always rowed at home." 
 
 " You want no rest save your natural sleep, nor 
 stimulus, save thankfulness that you are alive," said 
 Miss Ryde, decisively. " What has a child like you 
 to do with words that belong to battered middle life ? 
 They are for me and not for you, though I admit you 
 Americans live so fast that you are old in your youth. 
 I would go over to see what a nation of you must be 
 like, if 1 did not think that among you I should be 
 
BALLANTYNE 93 
 
 driven into lunacy. That is not what I wish to talk 
 about, however. I am just come from Mrs. Pattle s, 
 who said you were out, and I went there to tell you 
 that I would go down to Hammersmith with you, 
 since a telegram has come from John Ballantyne, to 
 say that his mother is too ill to leave. All his move 
 ments wait on hers. Shall I go ? " 
 
 " No, thanks ; it will alter all your plans," Marion 
 said. " I am to stay, you know, and I shall like the 
 excitement of finding the place." 
 
 "Rest, stimulus, excitement," Miss Ryde said. 
 "This generation lives for sensation solely. I am 
 seeking to see why." 
 
 " And in the process finding a number for personal 
 use," said Marion with a laugh, and as Miss Ryde 
 turned toward her own house, ran in and up to her 
 room. A duplicate of Miss Ryde s dispatch lay on 
 her table, and she picked it up and stood for a 
 moment after she had read it, smiling at her own 
 keen disappointment. 
 
 " Fate has the matter in charge," she thought. " I 
 wanted to hear the whole story, but, after all, practi 
 cally I know it all, since he is certainly John Ballan 
 tyne, and that was the chief puzzle. On the whole I 
 wish he were not. To find a delightful Englishman 
 only a rather extraordinary American is a disappoint 
 ment to which I am unreconciled and shall be. All 
 the same I want the story. Now away with any 
 more unreasonableness ! Oh, for invention, and all 
 benign gods that watch over crude aspiration ! " and 
 
94 BALLANTYNE 
 
 Marion lifted the cloth from her clay and soon was 
 absorbed in work. 
 
 Hammersmith was an unknown country, but she 
 looked it up in her Bradshaw, found the right train, 
 and at five o clock entered the station at one door as 
 Mr. Beresford and young Hetherington appeared at 
 another. Mr. Beresford came over to her with the 
 quick, even jaunty, cheerfulness that characterized 
 step as well as look and voice, and in a moment had 
 taken her as thoroughly in charge as even Miss Ryde 
 could have done. 
 
 Hetherington seconded him as if he would gladly 
 be less impassive if he could, and Marion as opportu 
 nity came studied his face, wondering where the pro 
 pensity for high betting and other evil ways came in. 
 He was tall and bulky already ; a genuine country 
 squire, with Miss Ryde s very face, minus her alert 
 ness, his chief attraction being a slow, sweet smile 
 that lightened his heaviness, and gave a glimpse of 
 something that might be in permanent residence be 
 low this unresponsive surface. Evidently he admired 
 Mr. Beresford immensely, listening to each word as 
 if it were an oracle, and no less evidently he admired 
 Marion, who, accustomed to the adoration of Tom s 
 classmates, took this undemonstrative form quite 
 unconsciously. 
 
 "What is there in Hammersmith besides the 
 Norrises ? " she asked, as the stifling little under 
 ground journey, delayed by some accident, ended, 
 and they emerged from the station into daylight. 
 
BALLANTYNE 95 
 
 " Nothing but a few thousand everyday people, 
 mostly Philistines, who are doing their best to make 
 the world a cockney nightmare ; a state of things 
 which Norris is fighting as heartily as Carlyle did, 
 and with about the same success," returned her com 
 panion. " Norris is here because of the works that 
 need his supervision. He is the salt in the meal. 
 You know he chooses to manufacture as well as 
 make verses." 
 
 " Yes, I know it," Marion said, " and wonder at 
 it, too, since he inveighs against any life of the town. 
 I heard him Sunday evening accusing Miss Ryde of 
 no desire beyond a grimy palace amid the smoke, with 
 a regiment of housemaids always working to smear 
 the dirt together so that it would be unnoticed." 
 
 " He is right," said Mr. Beresford. " London is 
 the apotheosis of soot. English smoke and soot are 
 killing any English sense of color. Fog and fume 
 without must mean fog and fume within. It is a 
 fact that France is far ahead of us. We have tech 
 nical education enough for accuracy of form, but any 
 perception of gradation or subtle contrast in color is 
 impossible. That is how it comes that aniline dyes, 
 false and hard, are better liked than the tender tinting 
 of nature. Norris is right to protest, as the master 
 Ruskin did long ago. The elder art is dead, quite 
 dead. As to the new, Norris has already said that it 
 has the hands of a child and the heart of a troubled 
 man, and what its course will be no man can yet 
 know. Here is the house at last. You will find 
 
96 BALLANTYNE 
 
 it charming within, whatever lack there may be 
 without." 
 
 Certainly it was at that moment most charming 
 without. Eleanor Norris in a gown of some soft 
 white stuff, floating about her, stood in the dark door 
 way, and stretched her hands to Marion. 
 
 " We had quite given you up," she said. " It is 
 so late, and I stole down just to see with my own 
 eyes if there was by chance any fog. I am so glad 
 you are here. Where is Mr. Ballantyne, Herbert ? " 
 
 " The mater, again, I suppose," Mr. Hetherington 
 said in his slow drawl, and Marion hastened to 
 explain. 
 
 " You will find we are a sort of family party," 
 Eleanor said, as she led Marion to her room, to which 
 a servant had already taken her portmanteau. u In 
 spite of the strangers that come and go, there is 
 always a nucleus of our own people. My father is 
 uneasy without at least one familiar face in a com 
 pany, and I share his feeling. He will be specially 
 disappointed to-night because John Ballantyne is 
 hindered from coming, and this grand scheme of 
 Herbert s must wait discussion. Do you need a 
 maid ? I have none but a girl who began as maid, 
 but has talent, and is being taught designing. She is 
 the third that has gone that way, among our servants, 
 but then they were not of that order after all. Mamma 
 has experimented with lady help. We experiment 
 in everything. Now come, you beautiful thing, you ! 
 You shall be drawn as the Viking s daughter. How 
 
BALLANTYNE 97 
 
 is it that you seem that, when, after all, you are 
 little ? " 
 
 Marion started as Tom s words repeated themselves. 
 
 "There must be something Norse and fierce in 
 my aspect," she said as they descended the stairway, 
 of heavy oak, looking about as she went. Nothing 
 could be in greater contrast to Miss Ryde s overflow 
 ing house than this, in which the simplicity would 
 have seemed almost bare, but for richness and har 
 mony of coloring, and the most perfect material. A 
 vivacious little lady stood near the chimney-piece in 
 the drawing-room, clad in a sad-colored plush gown, 
 from which her eager little head rose, its loose curls 
 those of child rather than matron, and her whole alert 
 figure a protest against the heavy draping she elected 
 for it. 
 
 " I am delighted," she said, as she crossed the 
 room, both hands extended. " I have been so eager 
 for Wednesday to come." 
 
 u I did not know it was to be a formal evening," 
 said Marion. " I thought it was to be quite a family 
 affair, and that you would be alone." 
 
 "We are never alone," Mrs. Norris answered. 
 " Some one is always being brought home, so that 
 when I plan for a certain number of guests, I always 
 allow one or two more places, for Philip will begin 
 a discussion with anybody, from a duke to a barge 
 man, and as he never stops till the moment in which 
 he must rush for the train, he ends with saying, 
 Come and we will finish it at dinner. I hear his 
 
 7 
 
B ALLANTYNE 
 
 step now. It is always our conundrum, Who will 
 be with him to-day ? " 
 
 " Whoever it is, you are always just as much inter 
 ested as he, and make them delightfully at home," 
 said Eleanor, moving in her quick, graceful fashion 
 across the room, and to the door, where, a moment 
 later, Mr. Norris entered, followed by a young fellow 
 with cheeks still flushed from hot debate. 
 
 " Ah, Paget ! " Mr. Beresford cried, with a rush 
 across the room. u I thought you were ofF to the 
 Continent." 
 
 " My luggage is," said the young man, with a laugh; 
 u but Norris haled me away for a final and satisfactory 
 row over art in general, and here I am, pelted with 
 abuse all the way down, and wondering why I 
 submitted." 
 
 " You submitted because under those layers of 
 what you call artistic sense, there is still a gleam of 
 soul," said Mr. Norris, who had put out his hand to 
 Eleanor, and stood there smiling at wife and daughter, 
 but still bent upon carrying his point. 
 
 " To end a day of hard work with a callant like 
 that ! " he went on. " Ideas ! yes, but not a correct 
 one among the lot, and his whole business to learn 
 over again, if he would leave after him a picture 
 worth hanging." 
 
 " It is the old story," Eleanor began ; but dinner 
 was at this moment announced, and they passed in 
 formally into the dining-room. It proved a battle 
 royal, from which each side emerged smiling and 
 
B ALLANTYNE 
 
 99 
 
 confident it had won. The courses came and went ; 
 not many, for the simplicity of furnishing extended 
 also to the menu, but all delicately cooked and served, 
 though in this war of words Marion wondered if 
 any one had really dined, or knew the flavor of a dish. 
 " It s. the Scotch streak in Norris that makes him 
 so pugnacious," said Mr. Beresford confidentially, as 
 they finally rose. " At first I never knew what I had 
 eaten, and had frightful indigestions. Now I take a 
 hand in when necessary, but dine calmly ; and we all 
 learn to do it, you know. After all, you see, Norris 
 is right. He is the prophet of a high simplicity." 
 
 " Define it," said Marion. " I wish to under 
 stand." 
 
 " No. You are making game of us all ; quite 
 quietly but delightedly. I see it," said Mr. Beresford, 
 shaking his fiery locks. "After all, each means 
 practically the same thing. The Nineteenth, the 
 century of commerce, the destruction of the art spirit. 
 The Twentieth, the century of education, and a re 
 vival of what is now dead and buried." 
 
 " But that is atrocious," said Marion. "Admitting 
 that the art spirit is dead, in any such sense as ruled 
 among the old Greeks, it is an insult to many a name 
 of to-day to hoot in such fashion at modern art." 
 
 " You among the Philistines ! " said Mr. Beresford 
 dejectedly, but with a twinkle in his eyes. 
 
 Mr. Norris crossed the room, and stood with his 
 coffee-cup beside her. 
 
 " I am not," said Marion, decisively. " I never 
 
ioo BALLANTYNE 
 
 was, and never shall be. But this cry that we have 
 no art spirit seems irrational. Look at our great 
 museums." 
 
 " Yes, look at them," said her host. " Is there 
 anything more melancholy, when you consider what 
 a tale of abominable violence, of shameful careless 
 ness, of lawless destruction, every one of these treas 
 ured scraps might tell. A museum is simply the 
 unconsciously erected monument to the results of 
 some of the worst passions of man." 
 
 " Then you would scatter these scraps, as you call 
 them ? " Marion said. 
 
 " No ; because the mischief is done, and we must 
 hold to such memorials as there are of a dead beauty. 
 Art and the arts have sunk lower and lower, till even 
 cultivated men have less and less conception of what 
 they mean. Take London itself with all its possi 
 bilities ; seventy years ago, as sunny a city as Eng 
 land owned. Now you have on the one hand squalor, 
 on the other, blank uncompromising ugliness, all alike 
 dominated by smoke ; all alike decorated by this foul 
 flying soot, that is part of the first breath of the new 
 born babe, and makes harder the last gasp of the 
 dying. Till the people are roused again to a con 
 sciousness of what art means, it must be always worse 
 and not better, till at last, maybe, we shall wipe the 
 slate quite clean and begin again." 
 
 " In the meantime I shall hie me to Paris to the 
 latest abominations," said young Paget, who had lis 
 tened seriously as he stood in the background, but 
 
BALLANTYNE 101 
 
 came forward now with a laugh. " I shall be back 
 in time to give you some fresh material for your fury. 
 Good night, and auf wiederszken. I am late." 
 
 He hurried out with a hasty, " Ah, Ballantyne. 
 There you are, after all," and Marion looked up to 
 see John Ballantyne entering the room. Herbert 
 Hetherington s impassive face brightened as he said : 
 
 " Good, John ! We shall have the settlement after 
 all." 
 
 " Come away before another battle begins," said 
 Mr. Beresford. " The ladies will pardon us for a 
 little. The papers are all in the library, John." 
 
 Mr. Norris, with rather a longing look toward the 
 group near the window, followed his energetic lead 
 and disappeared behind the great oaken doors, beckon 
 ing to Ballantyne, who paused only for a moment s 
 greeting, and to explain that his mother had become 
 better, and insisted upon his keeping his engagement. 
 
 " We could go, too," said Mrs. Norris, " but I 
 think we shall be happier here. I want to hear my 
 own voice a little, to say nothing of yours, Miss 
 Lacy, and I am sure there will be great repose in 
 letting squabbling go for a few minutes." 
 
 " Poor little mamma ! " said Eleanor, pityingly. 
 " What would you do in the House of Commons ? " 
 
 " I do not even wish to think," said Mrs. Norris, 
 with a shake of her head. " You are all discussing 
 the nature of the century. I insist that it is a cen 
 tury of words. Now and then somebody does a 
 spasmodic deed, usually the wrong one, but as a rule 
 
102 BALLANTYNE 
 
 nobody has time for anything but talking about them. 
 It is all foam." 
 
 " The foam of yeast, . said Eleanor. " All this is 
 leaven for our bread to be. If there had been no 
 words, Herbert would never have been stirred up 
 to his thought for these factory people, and John 
 Ballantyne would not be in the library settling the 
 way. Do you want to know about it ? " she asked, 
 turning to Marion, whose eyes had held the unspoken 
 question. " You do, I see. The Ballantynes have 
 a house at Badgeley-on-Thames ; a delicious old 
 place where artists go, and about which I could tell 
 a most wonderful tale. It is quite apart from the 
 town which is stretching out to it, and where there 
 are manufactories of all orders, one of which, on the 
 outskirts, belongs to Herbert. It is so far out that 
 the operatives are almost in Badgeley, and living in 
 such wretched ways that John Ballantyne found the 
 sight of it intolerable. It has taken a long time to 
 convince Herbert, who is slow ; but now he means 
 not only to have a model village, with some beauty 
 in it, but profit-sharing and humanizing of things 
 generally. Papa has drawn some of the sketches, 
 and Mr. Beresford, who is an architect, you know, 
 is to see if they are really working plans, and alto 
 gether they are settling to-night just how to begin, 
 and where." 
 
 u If they do not get into another discussion," said 
 Mrs. Norris, plaintively, u and spend the rest of the 
 night at that." 
 
BALLANTYNE 103 
 
 " Then they will all emerge wiser than when they 
 began," said Eleanor. " You don t properly appre 
 ciate your opportunities, mamma. You need sooth 
 ing, and you shall have it. I will play till the spirit 
 of Silence and Peace descends and broods over the 
 entire house, and everybody becomes of one mind." 
 
 Mrs. Norris leaned her head against the high-chair 
 and closed her eyes contentedly as the first notes of 
 the Moonlight Sonata sounded. Marion, who had 
 shared her restlessness, listened with delight as the 
 music flowed on, the exquisite quality of touch and 
 feeling giving new charm to the familiar friend. 
 
 " Oh> g on >" sne begged, as a pause came, and 
 Eleanor went on, weaving snatches of half-remem 
 bered themes into one scheme, liquid and flowing as 
 a brook. The doors opened softly after a time, and 
 Ballantyne entered and took his place silently in a 
 corner, followed soon by the others, who came as 
 silently. Peace had descended as Eleanor willed, 
 and for a little while questions ceased, doubt fled 
 away, and all good became possible and attainable. 
 
 " You must promise me to play for the grand in 
 auguration, the opening of the Hall, you know," 
 young Hetherington said, as she rose at last and went 
 over to the window. " You half promised when it 
 was first talked about. To-night settles it all, and 
 next week we break ground." 
 
 " Anything you like, if it is really to begin," said 
 Eleanor. " It began to seem to me as if it were just 
 one of the dreams." 
 
io 4 BALLANTYNE 
 
 "You will never admit that I mean anything/ 
 said the young man, a little sulkily ; and Marion, who 
 saw an impending quarrel, turned to Ballantyne, who 
 had crossed the room and sat down by her. 
 
 " I have a favor to ask," he said. " I have told 
 my mother about you, and she is very eager to see 
 you. She is a great invalid, you know, and cannot 
 come to you. Will you go down with me to-morrow 
 morning for a day or two ? She wishes much to talk 
 with you. She has seen no Americans in years." 
 
 " I will go, certainly," said Marion, " if you are 
 sure she is well enough to see a stranger." 
 
 " You are not a stranger, as you will soon find," 
 he said, after a moment. "She knew your father 
 well, but we have seen no old friends in many years. 
 She has not wished it till now. In fact, she has 
 refused it altogether, and this wish is so new that I 
 want you to gratify it, even if it include some cost 
 to yourself. I am only fearful that it may intensify 
 her feeling, but that must be as it may." 
 
 " What feeling ? " asked Marion, with a little 
 wonder in her tone; but as she spoke Mr. Beresford 
 came toward them, and the evening ended with no 
 further opportunity for question. Marion puzzled 
 a little as to why they had lived in England all these 
 years, and why, if her father was so well known, 
 there had been no communication with him, and fell 
 asleep at last, with an odd feeling of responsibility 
 and guilt, born of the veiled reproach and question 
 in John Ballantyne s eyes. 
 
Chapter Eighth 
 
 IF latent reproach had seemed the expression of 
 the previous evening, something more puz 
 zling took its place as they neared Badgeley. 
 They had breakfasted together early, since 
 Mr. Norris went to business as regularly as if that 
 and not poetry were his calling, and Marion had 
 driven to Cheyne Walk, to charge Polly to keep her 
 clay wet, and then in hot haste to Paddington. 
 Their talk had been a continuation of that begun 
 at the breakfast table, as to what share beauty had or 
 must have in the every-day working life, and passed 
 on to many things born of the same thought. 
 
 " He means to attack me about America," Marion 
 thought, as they took the train down, and prepared to 
 defend her standpoint, rather resenting his silence as 
 they went on. She looked at him curiously, wonder 
 ing how his feeling had grown, or why any one in the 
 midst of this fair English landscape, with its atmos 
 phere of abounding prosperity and well-being, could 
 turn to the America she knew, as a land better worth 
 loving and living for. 
 
 " London ? Yes, London, it is true, holds all 
 misery \ but London is not England. This is the 
 
io6 BALLANTYNE 
 
 real England," she thought. As if to answer it, 
 John Ballantyne began to tell her of the life in 
 the little towns through which they passed, and 
 she listened and looked, and declared that in such 
 surroundings, real suffering, save that born of wilful 
 improvidence or crime, was forever impossible. At 
 intervals as they talked, Marion, as she turned from 
 the window, found his eyes fixed on her with a look 
 so wistful that she became lost in wonder as to its 
 meaning, and at last even tempted to ask. 
 
 " One would say he had something he wished to 
 ask and knew he must not," she thought. " It is 
 like the story of some enchanted prince who cannot 
 speak till the right moment comes. It is certainly 
 something more than my iniquitous views about 
 America. He looks as if he were a judge with 
 power of life and death, and yet it is all quite 
 impersonal. I wish I dared ask, but I certainly 
 do not." 
 
 Why she did not was hardly less puzzling than 
 the look, since to her frank simplicity most questions 
 were easy. But with this wistfulness she felt another 
 quality, a reserve that made a personal question al 
 together impossible, and she put away the wish. 
 The sense of expectancy which had been the under 
 lying element in all this new life deepened. With it 
 came a conviction that new and sharp experience 
 was near, and as they drove through the old street, 
 one of the oldest and most picturesque she had seen 
 in England, she strove in vain to pay attention to her 
 
BALLANTYNE 107 
 
 companion s words as he pointed out the artists fa 
 vorite bits. 
 
 They had passed an old Norman church, set in 
 softly rolling meadows, with here and there a group 
 of trees, the river winding through them, and at 
 the north the chalk hills of Oxfordshire, with their 
 growth of larch and beech. At the left rose a great 
 manor-house with spreading wings and Elizabethan 
 front, with deep woods at the back, above which rose 
 the smoke of the omnipresent factory, less intrusive 
 here than in the towns through which they had 
 passed, but still making its place evident. But 
 as they crossed the little bridge over the broad 
 brook flowing peacefully toward the Thames, pay 
 ing the heavy toll demanded by a blear-eyed old man 
 who appeared to rise suddenly out of the ground, the 
 last trace of modern life was left behind. 
 
 The old street was lined with low brick and stucco 
 houses, thatch-roofed, moss-grown, vine-covered, and 
 had been the old street in the days when Elizabeth her 
 self passed through it. No less ancient was the inn 
 by the river, and the houses that farther on took the 
 place of the cottages, though larger, were of the same 
 order. With each and all time, wind, and weather 
 had worked their will, but every rent or fissure of 
 the trio nature had hastened to take in charge and 
 make good ; a patch of lichen here, a mat of thick- 
 growing ivy there, and all soft tones of velvety 
 browns and greens, charming and soothing the eyes 
 that rested on them. 
 
io8 B A L L A N T Y N E 
 
 " Our house is big, but only a magnified cottage 
 after all. Here it is, and I hope you are not very 
 tired," Ballantyne said, as he turned off from the 
 street, which broadened here into a little common 
 over which some geese walked peacefully. A boy 
 opened the door, showing a broad entrance hall, 
 low-ceiled, and with an oaken stairway black with 
 age at the end. In the background stood a middle- 
 aged woman who came forward at once. 
 
 " This is Mrs. Price, the housekeeper," said Bal 
 lantyne, " and she will show you your room." 
 
 " I m to take you there at once, and Mrs. Ballan 
 tyne will see you as soon as you are ready, Miss 
 Lacy," she said, with a curtsey and a pleased look at 
 Marion s face. " Mr. John wired down before you 
 left, and Mrs. Ballantyne is very anxious to see 
 you." 
 
 " I shall be quite ready in a moment or two," 
 Marion said, following her guide up the stairs, with 
 their thick and soundless rivulet of carpet in the 
 centre, to a room sweet with the scent of apple blos 
 soms blown through the open window. She threw 
 off her hat, stopping only for a glance into the old 
 garden, on the wall of which a tame jackdaw was 
 walking up and down, cocking his head to one side, 
 and calling loudly, to the intense aggravation of a 
 small spaniel which barked below. A tap came at 
 the door as she turned, and a quiet, elderly woman 
 appeared. 
 
 " It is Price, Mrs. Ballantyne s own maid and my 
 
BALLANTYNE 109 
 
 sister-in-law," said the housekeeper, as if to explain 
 the similarity of name. " It is almost one family, for 
 my daughter is parlor maid, and my sister the cook ; 
 but Mrs. Ballantyne likes it so. Will you go in now, 
 Miss Lacy ? " 
 
 Marion followed silently through various passages, 
 each closed by double doors. Boundlessness seemed 
 the demand everywhere. The house was even 
 breathlessly quiet, the thick carpets giving back no 
 echo of footfall ; and when Price opened first one door 
 and then another, and lifted a heavy portiere, Marion 
 felt that only a dungeon deep below ground could 
 meet the need implied in such precautions. 
 
 The flood of light in the room, or what seemed so 
 by contrast with the shadowy way thither, amazed 
 her. The wing built out . into the old garden had 
 latticed windows on all sides thrown wide to the sun, 
 which at that moment was shining with most un- 
 English brilliancy, sifting through the apple leaves and 
 blossoms of the tree whose branches were close against 
 the southern windows, and making an illuminated 
 background for the figure that lay there, shrouded in 
 white drapery, on the great sofa drawn close to them. 
 Marion paused suddenly and stood quite silent. 
 
 " It is the spirit of the snow," she thought, the 
 white hair lying loose about the brow, the face as 
 white, the mass of snowy drapery all strengthening 
 the fancy, and only the clear, sorrowful eyes giving 
 any sense of life or color. 
 
 " I am quite alive," a voice hardly more than a 
 
no BALLANTYNE 
 
 whisper said, a shadowy smile crossing the face. 
 "Come closer, and you will believe it then." 
 
 She put out a hand transparent and unreal as all the 
 rest, and Marion took it and sat down beside her, 
 smiling as she met the intense, inquiring look, but too 
 much under the spell for any words. 
 
 " That will do, Price," Mrs. Ballantyne said. " I 
 will ring for you when you are needed. I shall not 
 want anything for a long time." 
 
 Price lingered for a moment as if a little uncertain 
 what Marion s course might be, and looked back 
 doubtfully as she left the room. 
 
 "I am only a ghost, I know," Mrs. Ballantyne 
 said then, " but if you look at me like that I shall 
 feel that I have not even a ghost s right among the 
 living." 
 
 "Forgive me," Marion said, with sudden self- 
 reproach. " It seemed as if a breath would blow you 
 quite away, but your hand is warm ; you are not a 
 snow-wreath, though you look like one." 
 
 "You are a true Lacy," Mrs. Ballantyne said, 
 after a silence in which she had made no reply, but 
 held fast to Marion s warm young hand as if strength 
 were flowing from it to her. " I can see your grand 
 father s face, and your father s as well, though his 
 eyes and yours came from his mother. Do you know 
 why I ventured to send for you ? It is not as if you 
 were a stranger. That you cannot be, for I was your 
 father s first fancy. Only a fancy. I was just en 
 gaged then, and he did not know it, but we were 
 
BALLANTYNE in 
 
 always better instead of worse friends afterward. 
 You are wondering why you have never seen nor 
 heard of us in all these years, and you have the right. 
 You will understand when I have told you a little. 
 You will not mind ? " 
 
 " No," Marion said. 
 
 " Then I will tell you now at once all I can. 
 Each attack leaves me a little nearer the end. It 
 must be very soon now. When John told me of 
 you and what you had said, for he tells me everything, 
 so that I may still feel that I have some place in life, 
 I knew that you could help ; that you had been sent. 
 You must help. Your father would wish it.* 
 
 " I will surely, if I can," said Marion, after a pause 
 in which the eyes seemed to search her through and 
 through. 
 
 u I know it," the faint voice went on. " It may 
 seem selfish, perhaps, but I am not selfish, I think. 
 It is not for myself I have chosen this life, but 
 because insight was given me, and I knew better 
 things were for us here than in America. At first I 
 have to grant it must have been selfishness. To 
 think even of the sea, meant a terror so deadly that 
 nerves quivered and blood froze. And John shared 
 it then. He will not speak of it, and after that 
 night in which he promised me never to cross it 
 while I lived, we said no more, for there was no 
 more need. 
 
 " I came here at once. There were friends who 
 told us of it, and here I have lived in all his years at 
 
ii2 BALLANTYNE 
 
 school and at Oxford. Not the wreck you see me 
 now, but alive and eager as he, though always with 
 that horror of the past in the background. I know 
 that you know it, and I shall not talk of it. I loved 
 this life. It has all the repose and settledness that 
 American life has never known and never can know. 
 It has always seemed natural, and as if I had returned 
 to my own. There was never any sense of caste 
 or dividing lines, for Americans are not judged by 
 that standard, and I have lived here year after year, 
 content save for my one terror. I knew that John 
 would be true to his promise, but as he grew, more 
 and more he remembered and brooded and longed for 
 
 o 
 
 what he called freer life. I have been careful never 
 to urge this one upon him, since in any case he was 
 pledged to it ; but each year it has been my anguish to 
 see that he revolted more and more, and, no matter 
 what work opened to him, could never be content. 
 He said often till the time came, that he ceased to 
 speak of it, that sorrow and terror had warped my 
 judgment, and that if I could once force myself to 
 cross the sea, all would be different. When he was 
 twenty-one he implored me to release him from his 
 promise. 
 
 " l It is all wrong, he said. c I a man, alien here 
 and homesick, and longing for my real place. You 
 must release me. 1 1 cannot, I must not, I said. 
 c It is death for both of us to cross that sea again. 
 Be content with your place here. You have every 
 thing but that one thing, that you will. Put away the 
 
BALLANTYNE 113 
 
 thought once for all. He had no answer, but I 
 knew he did not. 
 
 " I had avoided Americans always. It was easy 
 here, but when we went up to London difficult, for 
 they are everywhere. John sought them out ; talked 
 with them ; puzzled over the different orders ; won 
 dered why so few comprehended their birthright, and 
 I listened to him, because I would not have him feel I 
 could not. He sent for photographs of every spot he 
 remembered as a child. He studied American his 
 tory with a sort of passion. He knows every family 
 tradition ; every characteristic of each member of it 
 remaining. I had begun to despair. I knew his one 
 wish was for release, and I could not release him. 
 And now my aid has come." 
 
 She stopped and lifted herself on the pillows, still 
 holding Marion s hand firmly. 
 
 " My heart leaped up when he told me of your 
 face, and that you had left America because you 
 loathed it. You had mind. You knew what words 
 meant, and could tell him. I saw then the one thing 
 that may help to hold him here, where he belongs : 
 yes, belongs, for every nerve of my body and power 
 of my soul have gone into this soil, this home, and 
 woven bands to hold him here. It is death that waits 
 for him if he forsakes it. Now will you help me ? " 
 
 " How ? " said Marion, faintly. It seemed as if a 
 conspiracy were forming ; an unholy compact waiting 
 her signature. 
 
 " Make him see what I see," the low voice went 
 
ii4 BALLANTYNE 
 
 on. " You will know him well ; better, I think, than 
 any one has known him except myself. I am sure of 
 this, for many things are made plain to me now. 
 Help me to keep him on this side of the sea. Prom 
 ise me that you will use whatever power you may 
 have to this end. Promise me." 
 
 " I cannot ! " cried Marion, with a sudden gasp as 
 if a cold hand had closed about her throat. " I can 
 not. What right have I to touch his life ? " 
 
 "Your right is coming in knowledge of him. 
 You will have. You will have." 
 
 " Then I must wait. I will not fight destiny nor 
 anticipate it. I must not." 
 
 " Promise me only, then, that you will be on my 
 side. That you will make him see how poor a thing 
 it is he worships." 
 
 " That I can promise," Marion said, after a pause 
 in which she strove to collect herself. 
 
 " I shall trust you ; and now that is all," Mrs. 
 Ballantyne said, with a sudden change of tone. " I 
 shall not speak of it again. It is you who must for 
 give me now. But all this had to be said in our 
 beginning. Are you willing to put it all away and 
 stay with me for a little ? " 
 
 The strained, eager look had gone. The sweet, 
 shadowy smile flitted over the face as she patted 
 Marion s cheek, and then put out her hand to the jack 
 daw, which had been looking in inquiringly from the 
 apple-tree, and now with sudden flirts of tail and much 
 cocking of head to one side and another, advanced by 
 
BALLANTYNE 115 
 
 short flights and hops till he attained the sofa. Here, 
 standing on the head, he took a curl of the white hair 
 in his beak as if for caress, and then proceeded to 
 pull bits of wool from the fluffy Shetland shawl 
 thrown over her. Marion s eyes had filled with tears 
 from the sharp tension of feeling, and a sense even 
 of resentment that such a burden had been laid upon 
 her. 
 
 " It is purest monomania," she thought. " And 
 all must bend to her will. It is frightful that any 
 man should be forced to renounce his freedom for 
 such a cause. She would bind every one near her by 
 a sort of spell. It is either lunacy or the purest, most 
 refined selfishness, and some day I shall tell her so." 
 
 She rose and went to the window for a moment, 
 burying her face in the apple blossoms ; a breath it 
 seemed from the sturdy, wind-beaten trees in grand 
 father s garden at Nantucket. 
 
 " It s all right, my pet," she seemed to hear him 
 say. " It s all right ; " and with a sudden uplifting 
 of spirit she turned back to the couch, and sat there 
 listening to the talk in which Jacko took an almost 
 human share. As she sat, the impression of the first 
 hour wore away. Interests of every order had their 
 place here. The talk was full of charm, nor had it 
 a trace of morbidity. Mrs. Ballantyne laughed now 
 and then ; the shadow of a laugh, it is true, but as 
 sweet as her smile, and one needed not to ask how or 
 why she had such power with her son. 
 
 " It is lunch time," she said presently, " and I will 
 
n6 BALLANTYNE 
 
 ring for Price to take you down. You will find 
 Mrs. Earnshaw in the dining-room, the rector s 
 wife, and one of the dearest and most valued of our 
 neighbors. She takes my place for me sometimes 
 when I am unable to go down, but that is not so 
 often as you think. By to-morrow, perhaps, or 
 certainly next day, I shall be in my own place." 
 
 She had touched the bell as she spoke, and Price 
 appeared, casting an inquiring look at Marion, and 
 apparently satisfied with the result. A look of even 
 greater relief was on Ballantyne s face as she de 
 scended the stairs slowly, looking at the carved rail 
 and meeting his eyes with a smile. 
 
 " It is a fascinating house," she said, " only a trifle 
 uncanny, it is so absolutely soundless. The walls 
 seem thick as those of any old castle." 
 
 " That is a peculiarity of Badgeley houses," he 
 said. u Mrs. Earnshaw will tell you that the rectory 
 walls are even thicker than ours, and the manor-house 
 than either. Mrs. Earnshaw, this is Miss Lacy, 
 American, and partly a cousin, but so nearly Angli 
 cized she rejects the name." 
 
 " It is much the same, after all," said the stout 
 matron, who came forward with a face beaming 
 good will, shaking Marion s hand heartily, but with 
 an inflection in her voice that said plainly, " It is not 
 the same at all." "We have had our day of mis 
 understandings, and now you are all coming home again. 
 I hope you are hungry, my dear," she added, with a 
 look at Marion s cheek, still pale from excitement. 
 
BALLANTYNE 117 
 
 " All you Americans lack color a little, but really you 
 look more English than American, and John, here, is 
 right. We can claim you, and we shall." 
 
 " I wish Horatia were here to help," said their 
 host ; " but you have not a daughter left. Imag 
 ine, Miss Lacy ; seven daughters, and every one 
 married ! " 
 
 " Certainly," said Mrs. Earnshaw, as if this were 
 quite the usual order in households of English 
 daughters, and turning toward the dining-room. "I 
 will not say I did not expect it, for why should I ? 
 Good girls, every one of them, each one prettier than 
 the last, and with plenty of common sense. What 
 else could happen ? Now, my mind is quite free for 
 the rest of the parish. Indeed it always was so, my 
 dear, for I never worried over the girls. It was true 
 love matches I wanted for them, like my own, and no 
 other ; and, thank God, every one was that. It s only 
 when money and place come first that love can t get 
 in, and I ve no room in my plan for such ways with 
 life. T would have been the same with a son, that 
 I never had. John, here, comes nearest to it. I ve 
 a free mind for all in my way now, and indeed all 
 come into it sooner or later." 
 
 " Naturally," Marion said with a little smile, that 
 completed the conquest already begun. Mrs. Earn 
 shaw looked at her radiantly, as she rambled on 
 through lunch, which Marion to her surprise found 
 herself enjoying, and when it ended, led her to the 
 west window, which looked out upon a little lawn, 
 
n8 BALLANTYNE 
 
 across which one saw a garden and a low stone 
 house. 
 
 "There is the rectory," Mrs. Earnshaw said, 
 " where I was brought and set down thirty years ago, 
 in terror of my life you might say, because of the 
 Queen, and right through that gap in the hedge is 
 how we come and go. Just beyond is Anastasia s, 
 my third daughter, and a heavy name for a gay girl to 
 carry. It s not her fault indeed, nor mine, but the 
 Queen s, that would have her way with one, and Mr. 
 Earnshaw felt I must submit. You must see the 
 house. It was an oatmeal-mill next the cottage, and 
 the store-chamber was just the thing for an artist who 
 settled here in spite of the Queen, for Anastasia 
 married one." 
 
 " But why should an artist be stored, and what has 
 the Queen to do with it ? " asked Marion, more and 
 more bewildered at the complication that beset her. 
 
 Mrs. Earnshaw turned from the window and led 
 her toward the drawing-room, laughing as she went. 
 " My dear, I m Irish," she said. " North of Ireland, 
 with a dash of Scotch, and that s one reason the 
 Queen sulked so long with Mr. Earnshaw, till she 
 found I had no fear of her, and then she came to 
 like it. But you have n t had time to find out that 
 all Badgeley-on-Thames belongs to her, this one 
 woman that owns every stick and stone and soul and 
 body from the minute you cross the bridge. Four 
 hundred years she s had her way ; what am I saying ? 
 though, indeed, there s a look about her that might 
 
BALLANTYNE 119 
 
 mean she d been here a thousand. But four hun 
 dred years this one family has ruled, and she, since 
 she was seventeen, and now she s ninety-three, with 
 a back as straight as yours, and a tall stick like 
 a fairy godmother and eyes like coals. There she 
 lives in the manor-house, with a retinue about her, 
 and folk kiss her hand, and get out of the room back 
 wards, and what more has majesty ?- and not a 
 stone has been stirred nor a change made in the 
 parish since she came to her throne seventy-six 
 years gone, a slip of a girl seventeen years old, 
 and my husband not born nor thought of. T was 
 her father called her Queen of Badgeley, and people 
 took it up, though I stick to Lady Anne, and will 
 save for my daughter. Lady Anne Heathcote it is, 
 and yon s Heathcote Manor." 
 
 "This is delightful," said Marion. "And now 
 tell me why you stored the artist. Would n t the 
 Queen allow him in sight ? " 
 
 " Not if she could have had her way, in spite of 
 knowing well, if telling would do it, that he had 
 talent and more, for it s famous he s getting. But 
 she s no room for them that work with their hands, 
 save as she likes them to do her bidding and reverence, 
 and there s a tinge of that in Mr. Earnshaw even, 
 bless him, that counts the Army and the Navy and 
 the Church the only places for gentlemen, and bears 
 just to admit that the Law has had one now and then. 
 But Grantham Wallis would have Anastasia, and 
 small blame to him, and we had the lease of the 
 
120 BALLANTYNE 
 
 cottage, and the oatmeal-mill with it, just to hinder 
 bother, and he made the chamber into studio, and a 
 bridge across to his own bedroom, and a door out, 
 before ever the Queen took it in, that it was doing 
 and done, and then, because of Anastasia, she said 
 less than we looked for. You shall see it all, but 
 now you must be tired, and I 11 leave you for a 
 nap or a book, till five, and then John will bring you 
 over for a cup of tea, and more tales that I see you J re 
 ready for." 
 
Chapter Ninth 
 
 BALLANTYNE turned as Mrs. Earnshaw s 
 comfortable figure disappeared through the 
 gap- 
 " There is an amendment to that," he 
 said. " You look especially wide awake and not in 
 the least ready for a nap. How would you like a 
 turn on the river, and then as short an evening as you 
 choose after dinner, since by that time you will be 
 really tired?" 
 
 Marion s eyes lighted. 
 
 " The one thing that is best of all. May I row ? " 
 
 " If you like." 
 
 " Then I will make ready for it. It was in 
 spiration that made me put in my rowing dress, 
 but I can never bear to be without it." 
 
 "Then you can really manage a boat ? " 
 
 " Wait and see," said Marion with a laugh, as she 
 ran up the stairs, reappearing speedily in the dark-blue 
 boating costume, the looseness of which had outraged 
 every feeling of its London maker. 
 
 " Let me do it all," she begged, as they came to 
 the end of the little path leading by the old inn, 
 whose upper casements overhung the river ; and 
 
122 BALLANTYNE 
 
 Ballantyne, after a moment or two, decided she had 
 spoken advisedly, and gave himself up to the enjoy 
 ment of watching her eager pleasure. For the time, 
 every thought of the morning had dropped out of 
 sight. 
 
 " You shall steer," she said, " till I make up my 
 mind to resign the oars ; " and then she pulled, with 
 the long steady stroke learned long ago from grand 
 father, the color coming to her cheeks, and her eyes 
 full of content. Here and there the river broadened 
 slightly, a tiny alder-fringed bay, or a broad, still 
 expanse. The sun, veiled only with delicate cloud, 
 hardly more than a faint mist, shone warm and bright. 
 Not a breeze stirred, and every blade of grass, every 
 twig, was mirrored in the motionless water. Velvet 
 turf swept to its very edge as they passed the pretty 
 old houses. Then came a house-boat, still in winter 
 canvas, and another on which workmen were putting 
 the summer touches. Beyond was a sudden curve 
 and a thicket of bushes and saplings, and as they 
 rounded it Marion, who had turned once or twice, 
 stopped and looked with delighted eyes at something 
 beyond. 
 
 Out from a little inlet, swift and steady as if blown 
 by unfelt wind, sailed a swan, looking as if the place 
 far and near were his own ; and as he sailed stately and 
 still, out from some retreat in the reeds came his mate, 
 slenderer and less noble, but with all his grace, and 
 curved her neck over his whiteness, and laid her 
 head along it and under it as if it meant refreshment. 
 
BALLANTYNE 123 
 
 They had sailed back to the inlet before Marion 
 spoke. 
 
 u How gloriously white they are ! " she said. 
 " Do you remember Lander s word about them ? 
 c White doves are always very white, indeed, and 
 those great water birds, to which the angels by God s 
 order have given the same pure appearance, feel a 
 pleasure in possessing it. 
 
 Marion paused for a moment, the look of a reflective 
 child on her face, and Ballantyne watched her attentively. 
 
 " There is a great deal to be said for the black 
 ones, too," she went on suddenly, as if justice to the 
 blacks were imperative. " Do you know that a black 
 swan is really beautiful ? I remember two at home. 
 There are distinct advantages in being a black swan, 
 and they are not shared by the white ones. In the 
 first place, you see, the dust which makes the white 
 ones look very dirty, shines like silver powder on the 
 plumes of the black ones. Then the water which 
 deadens the lustre of the white plumage, only makes 
 the other more satiny and beautiful. The white 
 swan has a bill of orange, which is ugly. The black 
 one has a rose-colored bill, with eyes to match, and 
 they look like rubies held up to the sun. When the 
 black fellow ruffles up his feathers you see beautiful, 
 charcoaly, watered-silky waves tinged with iridescent 
 hues, while the white one is only just white. How 
 ever, he is at his best when he also ruffles up. On 
 the whole, which would you rather be, a black swan 
 or a white one ? " 
 
i2 4 BALLANTYNE 
 
 Marion looked up seriously. 
 
 " The black ; by all means the black," he said, 
 unhesitatingly. 
 
 " No, you should wish to be the white. They are 
 the most stainless of all God s creatures. I love them. 
 Think how that hoarse croak of theirs must afflict 
 them, knowing what they were really born to, and that 
 nothing but death can give them their right to song." 
 
 " That is true for more than your swans," Ballan- 
 tyne said, as she began to row again. " It is the word 
 that says itself in every slum, when you look at those 
 defrauded faces. Even in lives with larger hopes it is 
 true, too." 
 
 Marion was silent. The memory of the morning 
 had come again, and she did not want to think or 
 speak of it yet. She rowed on, but the spell was 
 broken, and she laid down the oars suddenly. 
 
 " It is your turn now," she said. " I think I am 
 a little tired, after all," and took her place at the rud 
 der. Here talking was less easy, and she simply 
 watched the banks as they went down. She would 
 have gone directly to her room had time allowed, but 
 barely enough remained to dress and cross the lawn 
 to the rectory, the low drawing-room of which was 
 sweet with flowers, which lightened the sombre effect 
 of the dark wainscoting. Mrs. Earnshaw sat there 
 beaming before her kettle and cups. 
 
 " It s all the same, you see," she cried. " We 
 cannot be modern if we would, and the modern bits 
 that will creep in look as if they had no kinship. 
 
BALLANTYNE 125 
 
 Here is my daughter Mrs. Wallis, and here comes 
 Mr. Earnshaw." 
 
 Marion received a cordial greeting from the 
 daughter, a slender duplicate of the mother, and 
 looked with interest at the dark, serious, courtly man 
 who came forward quietly and gave her his hand. 
 How had he and this irrepressible wife lived thirty 
 years in the harmony which it was plain existed, was 
 Marion s first thought ; and she watched him as he 
 greeted John Ballantyne kindly, but with a certain 
 reserve, as if there were between them some unsettled 
 difference. 
 
 " I am sorry to leave you," he said when he had 
 drunk a cup of tea, with a word or two to Marion as 
 he brought her hers. " But old Adam is much worse, 
 and has sent for me. Young Adam, with his shame 
 ful defiance of everything he has been taught to 
 respect, is really responsible for his grandfather s 
 state. Those who have misled him have much to 
 answer for." 
 
 His eyes rested severely on Ballantyne, who appar 
 ently had not heard, and simply bowed as the rector 
 left the room. 
 
 " You see what you ve done, John," Mrs. Earn 
 shaw said, reproachfully. " Mr. Earnshaw is so stirred 
 up with the disturbance in the parish, and the way the 
 Queen is in about it, that I m not sure he would n t 
 imprison you all, you and your tribe together, a bit, 
 just to keep the peace. Why will you and Barrows 
 do so ? " 
 
126 BALLANTYNE 
 
 " What ? " 
 
 " Stir up everything and make the people discon 
 tented. Young Adam was a good workman, and 
 never a word about drainage and such nonsense before 
 that Institute opened over the line, and he began to 
 think he knew more than his betters. You are out 
 of the Queen s books once for all, my dear, and it s 
 a pity. Miss Lacy must see her, and she must go 
 with me. I can take you to-morrow morning, my 
 dear. She likes to see all that come to me, and she 
 is worth looking at indeed. There s none like 
 her." 
 
 " Yes, that is certainly one of the Badgeley expe 
 riences," he said, quietly. " That and Walter s studio. 
 Both are unique." 
 
 " The last you shall have at once, Miss Lacy, if 
 you re sure you 11 have no more tea," said Mrs. 
 Earnshaw, in her motherly fashion. " T is only a step 
 across to the cottage." 
 
 Ballantyne had risen. 
 
 " Barrows and his sister dine with us to-day," he 
 said ; " and perhaps Miss Lacy, who is tired, had better 
 rest a little." 
 
 " You ve more sense than me, John, and she with 
 no color left," said Mrs. Earnshaw, with solicitude. 
 " A bit of sleep will set you up at once, if you re 
 like me." 
 
 " I am a little tired," said Marion, glad to escape 
 from a certain tension which, if not in the people, 
 seemed to be in the air, and she crossed the lawn, 
 
BALLANTYNE 127 
 
 followed by her host, who looked at her a little 
 anxiously. 
 
 " You have rowed too hard," he said. " There 
 will be a full hour for quiet, for we dine at seven, 
 and Barrows will not be here till then. You will 
 like them both, though I dare say you are heartily 
 tired of strangers, are you not ? " 
 
 u I find every one immensely kind and interesting," 
 Marion said, and then made her retreat, glad to 
 escape for a little. She slept for a few moments ; a 
 sudden falling into deep, dreamless silence, and a 
 waking as if she had returned from some familiar 
 country where rest abided. There was the same 
 half consciousness of grandfather bending over her 
 and stroking her hair, that sometimes came to her, 
 and that always meant special refreshment ; and when 
 she woke, the weight that had oppressed her was 
 quite gone. 
 
 She had dressed when Price came to the door to 
 ask if she needed her, and descended presently to the 
 drawing-room, finding there a little lady, gray-haired 
 and incisive, who had just entered at the long win 
 dow opening toward the rectory. 
 
 " Brother will be here in a moment," she said, 
 as Ballantyne came forward and presented her to 
 Marion, at whom she looked with kindly but very 
 distinct scrutiny. 
 
 u Another American," he said, with a slight smile. 
 " Miss Barrows does not understand Americans, 
 Miss Lacy, and will probably demand some explana- 
 
128 BALLANTYNE 
 
 tion. Ah, there you are, Barrows," he added, turn 
 ing heartily to a big, burly man, who came across 
 the lawn with a swing, his mass of red-brown hair 
 flying, and his blue eyes gleaming, half with wrath, 
 half with fun. 
 
 " I see nothing for a place like this but dynamite," 
 he said. " Mrs. Earnshaw has pitched into me 
 vehemently on several counts. I have perverted 
 you, you have perverted Adam, therefore I have 
 perverted both. Everything was as it should be, and 
 is as it should n t, and I owe it to the parish to leave 
 at once and carry my heresies where they will do 
 less harm. I want dinner first and then we will 
 decide." 
 
 " We will make Miss Lacy arbiter. She is an 
 unprejudiced judge," Ballantyne said, as he presented 
 the new-comer, who looked at her with interest. 
 
 " Then she has not made up her mind," he said. 
 " How is that ? " 
 
 " I don t know in what direction you require it to 
 be made," Marion said, as they moved toward the 
 dining-room and took their places at the round table, 
 with its softly shaded lights and perfect appointments. 
 " It is very definite on some points, I can assure 
 you." 
 
 " I shall ask you for some of them when the first 
 rage is appeased," Mr. Barrows replied. " I have 
 had a long spin on the bicycle, as well as a pitched 
 battle at the end, but even rage has not spoiled my 
 appetite. I could wish myself an ogre, and the 
 
BALLANTYNE 129 
 
 Queen, delicately stewed, we will say, with bland 
 sauces, served up before me." 
 
 " For shame, Jack ! " said his sister. " Though, 
 to be sure, there is no release for the parish till her 
 end comes. The strange thing is her power, with 
 Heading close by, as modern as this is ancient, and 
 boiling over with dissent and discontent like every 
 mill-town everywhere. But she has had her finger 
 on every man, woman, and child more than seventy 
 years, and I often fancy she knows every thought of 
 their minds, and every breath they draw. She sends 
 wine and soup and jellies day after day into these 
 cottages, but not a drain-pipe shall be laid, nor a 
 floor over the clay floors that cramp the old people 
 with rheumatism, nor a school allowed save a dame 
 school for the little ones. It is a leaf out of the 
 feudal system, and I am the wiser for knowing it." 
 
 " Then you do not live here ? " Marion asked. 
 
 " No, indeed, not I. I came to my brother, who 
 chooses to think that this is ground for his propa 
 ganda. He came down and hired a cottage, clay 
 floor, oak rafters, and all, and is living in it in order 
 to demonstrate that he is one of the people. He has 
 put in some hooks, and has some Roman kettles and 
 odds and ends, testimony to his inward desire to 
 return, and live with his favorite possessions, but 
 these are not to be mentioned. We are Mrs. Earn- 
 shaw s cousins, and as he belongs to the fifteenth, 
 and my brother to the twentieth century, it is rather 
 hard on both." 
 
 9 
 
ijo BALLANTYNE 
 
 u What are you preaching ? " Marion said. 
 
 u I ? I am preaching nothing. It is Jack who 
 does it. I am hardly as revolutionary as he, but the 
 ignorance of these people has so frightful a quality, 
 that I am in danger of becoming so. You should be 
 glad that there is no chance for such experience in 
 America, and that you are spared so much, at least." 
 
 " Perhaps not of this particular order," Marion 
 said, " for this seems quite out of usual lines, even 
 here. But our castes are as sharply defined as yours, 
 and there is unending struggle to wipe out dividing 
 lines, and bring everything to the equality which is, I 
 believe, the Socialistic ideal ; an impossible one," she 
 added under her breath. 
 
 " Why ? " said Miss Barrows, sharply. 
 
 u Because the proportion of gray matter in the 
 brain determines that thing," said Marion ; " and the 
 highest intelligence will rule, and the lowest be ruled, 
 so long as water follows its nature and runs down 
 hill." 
 
 u But when intelligence is evenly distributed, and 
 each man his own ruler, what becomes of your law ? " 
 
 " An impossible future," Marion repeated. " Bru- 
 talization can cease. Men can have their chance, 
 and a thousand things be given, denied them now ; 
 but the secret nerve fibre that means genius is out of 
 your power, train and work as you will. This doc 
 trine of absolute equality is as monstrous as the one 
 on the other side, that sets the rich apart from the 
 poor in two distinct classes. The truth lies between. 
 
BALLANTYNE 131 
 
 It is only in humility that is willing to learn patiently 
 and thoroughly, that real life is lived. Your proposi 
 tion of equality ends that in the beginning." 
 
 " Evidently you are an aristocrat," said Miss Bar 
 rows. " You must have found your ideas a little out 
 of harmony with your environment at home." 
 
 " I did," Marion answered quietly j " I have come 
 to England because I felt more at home under an 
 established order of things than I do in our chaos. I 
 may be all wrong, and glad to change my mind before 
 a year is over. At present, in spite of all the suffer 
 ing I am coming to know, and my knowledge that 
 your reformers can hardly cry alarm too loudly, I do 
 believe you are living better lives than we. What 
 ever our republic meant to us in the beginning, it 
 seems to mean little now, and an American has less 
 and less cause to boast of his name. I am untrue to 
 my flag, you will say, but at least I am true to truth, 
 or to what I count as such." 
 
 Some inward impulse seemed to compel her words, 
 and she looked at her host with a half wonder why 
 they came now, and if he would rise in defence of his 
 theory. He was quite silent, but any deficiency was 
 covered by Miss Barrows, who, after an astonished 
 pause, began a series of questions as to the American 
 school system, and American methods with children 
 in general, arraigning them so fiercely that Marion, 
 after various admissions, found herself obliged to de 
 fend such advantages as were bound up with the 
 bundle of errors. 
 
132 
 
 B ALLANTYNE 
 
 " Your women are the natural result of this sys 
 tem," Miss Barrows went on, calmly unconvinced by 
 any of Marion s points. " I find them very pretty. 
 It is singular how pretty they are, though most of 
 them lack repose; but there is no breadth of view, 
 and strange limitations of thought in many ways. It 
 is a certain crudeness that I object to. You will 
 pardon me, Miss Lacy, I am simply seeking informa 
 tion, and I am determined to understand America, if 
 I can. I should suppose the trouble is you have no 
 scholars, and your rich are most of them hopelessly 
 vulgar; that is, I judge so by those who travel." 
 
 " Till you have been over to see for yourself you 
 cannot really judge," said Marion, half amused and 
 half indignant at the tone of rather pleased depreci 
 ation. " We are very crude, of course; but then a 
 hundred years is not a long life for a nation, which 
 began with an unsubdued country and has lived 
 through three wars, not counting the minor ones." 
 
 "All of them very unnecessary," interjected Miss 
 Barrows, decisively. 
 
 " When you do go over," Marion went on, ignor 
 ing the remark, " I think you will find the scholarly 
 element stronger than you imagine, and though you 
 will miss the sense of repose, and encounter the mer 
 cantile spirit everywhere, I doubt if it is more keenly 
 developed than in shopkeeping London, or in your 
 great manufacturing towns." 
 
 " That is what we fight," said Miss Barrows, dis 
 contentedly. " But in the meantime there is some- 
 
BALLANTYNE 133 
 
 thing better, while with you the spirit rules. You 
 have no galleries nor museums ; no art, no popular 
 taste, no music. The daily life is utterly barren, I 
 am told, and oia very excellent authority." Marion 
 flushed slightly. 
 
 " Naturally, because the English Puritan eschewed 
 them all and set the seal of his barbarism upon us in 
 the beginning. You did not escape entirely, if the 
 traces of their theories still to be seen in your cathe 
 drals is to be believed. We are just emerging from 
 that repression, and ready now for whatever art can 
 do for us. She has begun. We work swiftly, and 
 good work is already understood. I can even imag 
 ine that our result, in the end, may be quite as high 
 as yours, though naturally all of the new school. 
 But the love of beauty and the sense of form and 
 color seem to be keener with us than with you, in 
 spite of all this inheritance of beauty about you. We 
 cannot miss it in the end." 
 
 The shadow of a smile flickered about John Bal- 
 lantyne s mouth, and vanished. 
 
 " I was told that you were very Anglican in your 
 tendencies," said Mr. Barrows, with a laugh. " But 
 evidently you have not been understood. You will be 
 able to define yourself to yourself on all points when 
 you leave Anne s hands, for she gives her talent for 
 cross-examination full play, and she has no hesitation 
 in expressing her opinions." 
 
 " We all come from the same stock," said Marion, 
 coloring a little, and amazed at the undercurrent of 
 
134 BALLANTYNE 
 
 indignation which had made its flow felt. " It is the 
 growth of the mercantile spirit in both countries that 
 is responsible for the decay of art." 
 
 " Oh, art, art ! " interrupted Mr. Barrows, tem 
 pestuously. " I am sick to death of this feeble wail 
 over the death of art, as if it meant manliness or 
 strength or courage, or any other high virtue. The 
 Spartans had no art, but they have managed to leave 
 some record behind them." 
 
 " A name or two and a great battle," said Ballan- 
 tyne. " That is all, and these only for the student 
 who knows history, while Greek art and thought are 
 for eyes and soul in all time. A few Englishmen be 
 lieve this, and such art spirit as is left is due to them, 
 and will be wiped out if you Socialists have your 
 way." 
 
 " What ! " cried Mr. Barrows, with a shake of his 
 tawny mane. " You are one of us. What do you 
 mean by denying the faith ? " 
 
 " I am one of you, yes, up to a certain point. I 
 am ready for most of your reforms. But when you 
 have killed monopoly, shortened working hours, made 
 education a State matter, and seen that a chance for 
 all is certain, beyond that I will not go, since I claim 
 the right to my own individuality, and must live my 
 life in my own fashion secure from dictation from 
 the State. It is because the real art spirit includes 
 this individual liberty because there can be no real 
 art without it that I look for its coming again as 
 a part of the new civilization." 
 
BALLANTYNE 135 
 
 " So far," said Mr. Barrows, " it has brought death 
 in its train, and that is all. There is not a monument 
 of the past whose cement is not mingled with human 
 blood and tears, and whose foundations are not on 
 human bones. The story of art is the story of out 
 rage and oppression from the beginning of time. Of 
 the Middle Ages with their mawkish saints and Ma- 
 
 D 
 
 donnas it is the record of a superstition that has de 
 layed the world s true progress hundreds of years, and 
 still delays it. Away with it all, and let us have a 
 clean start once more." 
 
 " You scout the past, yet how will you escape its 
 inheritance ? " his host said, after a moment s silence. 
 " It is your blood and bone ; the marrow of your 
 thought. If you wiped out every record to-morrow, 
 you would still remain what it has made you." 
 
 " The old battle," Miss Barrows said, discon 
 tentedly. " For a man who counts himself radical, 
 you have the most extraordinary streaks of conserva 
 tism, John. The point is, to improve the condition 
 of the people, and I see no way but to wipe out just 
 such obstacles, as, for instance, this good-for-naught 
 obstructionist that you call Queen of Badgeley-on- 
 Thames." 
 
 " Wipe them all out," began her brother, energeti 
 cally ; but at this moment Price entered, and, going 
 up to Mr. Ballantyne, said something in a low tone. 
 
 " My mother is not so well," he said, rising at 
 once. u You will take care of Miss Lacy, Miss 
 Barrows, and if I cannot return you will understand." 
 
136 BALLANTYNE 
 
 u Perfectly," Miss Barrows said, with a gentler 
 look than Marion had seen on her face. " A son 
 among a million," she added, as he went out. " He 
 worships the ground she treads, and she does the same 
 by him. They are two lovers, and yet she has half 
 killed him." 
 
 " Because at bottom, call it what fine names you 
 like, it is cursed selfishness," said her brother. u You 
 need not shake your head at me. I admire Mrs. 
 Ballantyne, and you know it, but she has been a 
 millstone about his neck." 
 
 " That shows how much a man can understand," 
 said Miss Barrows, unruffled. " Except for this busi 
 ness of doing what he calls going home, they are of 
 one mind. Why should he go ? I say. He thinks 
 he is American, but he is English, and he will find it 
 so when he once gets among those depressing Yan 
 kees. I beg your pardon, Miss Lacy. I cannot 
 keep in mind that you are American, any more than 
 that he is, for you have not their voice nor way, nor 
 anything, but you are just a nice English girl." 
 
 " Thanks," said Marion, with a little flush. " But 
 I am American all the same. You do not know us 
 yet." 
 
 " You and John are enough," returned Miss Bar 
 rows. " I 11 know no more till I must. We will 
 have our coffee in the drawing-room, and then, I am 
 sorry to say, we must go, for Jack has some one to 
 see. Will you come and look at the cottage to 
 morrow ? " 
 
BALLANTYNE 137 
 
 " I am promised to Mrs. Earnshaw for the morn 
 ing, and I go up at noon," Marion began ; but Miss 
 Barrows broke in : 
 
 " Oh, you will not go at noon. Mrs. Ballantyne 
 will want you, and you will stay." 
 
 " I think not," Marion said, as they went into the 
 drawing-room, where Mr. Barrows drank his coffee 
 in a preoccupied way, the pair leaving immediately. 
 Marion wandered about the room for a time, played 
 a little, and then, fearing that the sound might reach 
 the sick-room, chose a book from the library, and 
 went to her own room, with a feeling that many days 
 had passed since she came under the new roof, and 
 had looked on the white wraith who still was called 
 its mistress. 
 
Chapter Tenth 
 
 F~~U ^HREE weeks later, Marion, rowing up 
 
 the river, with long pauses at one and 
 
 another of its fascinating bends, stopped 
 
 -^^- suddenly as a look toward the narrow 
 
 path winding down through the meadows showed her 
 
 the familiar figure in gray, for which she had had 
 
 more than one longing, and Miss Ryde, as she came 
 
 nearer, waved her umbrella with enthusiasm. 
 
 " Eleanor gave me no peace," she said as Marion, 
 who had run her boat up on the shore, sprang out and 
 went toward her, her tired face full of satisfaction. 
 u Your notes told nothing. Mrs. Ballantyne is a 
 leech, and you are of the stuff that lends itself to such 
 blood-sucking, and calls it c doing one s duty. I have 
 run down to find out what the matter is, and why 
 you do not come back to the place where you 
 belong." 
 
 " I belong anywhere, you know," Marion said, 
 holding Miss Ryde s warm, firm hand with a 
 sense of strength and dependability that was very 
 comforting. 
 
 "Fiddle-de-dee!" said Miss Ryde, energetically. 
 u You belong where you had settled down, and where 
 
BALLANTYNE 139 
 
 there is distinct work for you to do. Eleanor says 
 she believes now in reincarnation, for you have 
 come to us so much like our own that you must 
 have been so in a previous state. I am inclined to 
 agree with the child. We miss you. I am come to 
 take you back and to blow a breath of common sense 
 into this paralyzed and inert hole. I know it. I 
 have stayed here, heaven help me ! You do not 
 want to row any more, do you ? If you do, I will 
 get in, and you may take me where you like. I 
 want to talk with you." 
 
 u Then I will row up to the next bend, where 
 there is an old tree and a seat. You see that I am 
 prepared for it. Here is a rug and my sketch book, 
 and one to read ; in short, everything I take to 
 convince myself that I propose to be employed, and 
 then leave unused from pure laziness. Did you ever 
 do so ? " 
 
 " Pure tiredness," repeated Miss Ryde vindictively, 
 as she took her place facing Marion, and noted the 
 dark circles under her eyes and the worn look of her 
 face. u What do you mean ? What does every 
 body mean ? Why has n t John Ballantyne sent 
 you home ? " 
 
 " He is not in the least responsible," Marion said, 
 quickly. " It is quite myself. I chose to stay 
 because it seemed to comfort Mrs. Ballantyne, and 
 because, I can t tell how, but I felt that I must. 
 Price went up with Mr. Ballantyne, and got every 
 thing that I needed, and he even took the trouble 
 
i 4 o BALLANTYNE 
 
 to bring down my clay, the little figure I was model 
 ling, but I have not touched it. There is so much to 
 do ; so many interests." 
 
 " Whose? " said Miss Ryde, grimly. 
 
 " Everybody s. I seem to know the whole village, 
 even to the Queen herself, who has taken a violent 
 fancy to me, but persists in believing me one of the 
 original colonists in America, and a piece somehow 
 of the Revolutionary War in which her father took 
 part. She upbraids me as if I had begun it, and then 
 says, c Well, after all, you are more English than 
 American, if you are a rebel, and now you had better 
 stay where there is law and order, and learn your 
 duty. " 
 
 "Humph!" said Miss Ryde. Marion looked at 
 her but went on. 
 
 u She insists on my going there every day, and 
 inquires, for instance, how I dared to take part in 
 anything so atrocious as throwing good tea overboard, 
 or what insolent streak led me to help in such a 
 document as the Declaration of Independence ? She 
 pities me for having come up among such a God- 
 defying, lawless, bloodthirsty set of savages, who 
 defied their lawful king and murdered his soldiers. 
 It gives me a most extraordinary feeling, for she 
 knows more about it than I do, in detail at least, 
 since she remembers every word her father ever told 
 her, and it is as fresh as yesterday." 
 
 "You are evading me," said Miss Ryde, severely. 
 " It is not the maundering of a wild old woman that 
 
BALLANTYNE 141 
 
 has given you such a look, a look that might come 
 if you had signed a compact with the devil." 
 
 " I feel as if I had, almost," Marion said, hardly 
 above her breath. She had started visibly at the 
 words, and now as she rowed in to shore, and held 
 the boat steady for Miss Ryde, avoided her look, and 
 busied herself with arranging the rug and fastening 
 the boat securely. 
 
 " This is all perfectly comfortable, and now you 
 are to tell me why you have settled down here, and 
 why you are worn to a thread paper," said Miss 
 Ryde calmly, as she took her place, but with a tone 
 compelling definite reply. " Have you been nursing 
 this white vampire ? " 
 
 "How can you!" said Marion, indignantly. 
 "She is most lovely, and wonderful, and unselfish. 
 It is only that her mind is set on this one thing, 
 and I cannot do what she wishes. Really, I ought 
 to go away, but she holds me so I cannot." 
 
 " It is well that I know you are not an idiot," said 
 Miss Ryde, who had set her lips firmly as she listened, 
 " for I suppose you know you are talking like one. 
 How does she hold you ? " 
 
 " I wish I knew," Marion answered, meeting Miss 
 Ryde s eyes with a look so troubled, that the elder 
 woman bent forward and patted her cheek. 
 
 " Poor little girl," she said. " Well ? " 
 
 " I was going away the next day," Marion went 
 on. " She was ill again after that first night, and 
 Mr. Ballantyne was with her till early morning. I 
 
i 4 2 BALLANTYNE 
 
 had talked with her before that ; a strange talk, as if 
 she had always known me and had a right to ask 
 what she pleased, and she did almost, because she 
 had known my father and the rest. Then she asked 
 for me when she felt better again, for she goes up 
 and down in an hour in some strange way, and she 
 begged me to stay, because I did her so much good, 
 she said. She wanted me to sit by her, and then to 
 read to her a little, and each day she held me tighter 
 and tighter. I am with her a good deal, and when 
 I go out of the room I feel as if I had left a part of 
 my life behind. It is her wish that makes it so hard. 
 She thinks that I can, if I will, make her son hate 
 America and be willing never to go back. When 
 she begged me at first, I said I would try, because I 
 had thought little or nothing about it, and could not 
 realize what it might mean to him. Now I do not 
 wish one more particle for myself, the return, than I 
 did when I left it, nor shall I. But all this ques 
 tioning and sifting by these people has defined to me 
 some things that were never clear before. He ought 
 to go if he wishes it, if only to find how mistaken he 
 is. I have to admit the old ideal that was there 
 once, but he will not find it now. It is dead, and 
 he will break his heart over it. That I believe. It 
 is a sort of insanity that makes her hold him so to 
 an old promise ; but she says, with the look of an old 
 prophetess, that it will be his death. How can we 
 tell if she may not be a true one, after all ? " 
 " True fiddlestick ! " said Miss Ryde, with fury. 
 
BALLANTYNE 143 
 
 u Of all the irrational, wrongheaded, unnatural ways 
 of looking at things, Laura Ballantyne s takes the 
 palm. Where John gets a gleam of common sense 
 is a mystery, much more how he keeps it. You 
 h?ve had enough of this, and you are going up with 
 me to-morrow morning. You are doing no good 
 here to yourself or anybody else. She may go on 
 this way for the next thirty years. These people 
 who are always dying, never do die. Come away." 
 
 " She is beautiful," said Marion. " It is like talk 
 ing with a disembodied spirit, almost. She has such 
 beautiful thoughts and fancies. She is so wonderful." 
 
 " Fancies, yes," returned Miss Ryde. " There is 
 bewitchment about her. That I grant, and John, 
 with his romantic love for her, is befuddled, like all 
 of us. Come away. You have better things to do, 
 and so have I. John Ballantyne must work out his 
 salvation, and so must you ; and these people have 
 naught to do with it or you, and little with him in 
 any way, did he but know it. His mother thought 
 he would marry one of the Earnshaw girls, and settle 
 into an English gentleman ; and he might have done 
 worse, but he has never been in love. I believe he 
 does not mean to be on this side the sea, though it 
 comes where it will, God help us all ! " 
 
 A sudden flush dyed Marion s cheeks, and deep 
 ened under Miss Ryde s eyes. She turned to the 
 boat, and that lady, after one astonished moment, 
 came, it was plain, to some inward resolution, for 
 she smiled cheerfully, and, as they sped down stream, 
 
i 44 BALLANTYNE 
 
 talked steadily of the last club, and of various people 
 who had been brought experimentally by Mr. Beres- 
 ford to her last Sunday evening, and proved first 
 amusing and then peculiarly obnoxious, one of them 
 being a stout American medium, who had persisted in 
 seeing spirits behind everybody s chair, and had un 
 dertaken to name them, failing disastrously. Bal- 
 lantyne was at the boat-landing as they reached it, 
 and came forward with an amazed look as he saw 
 Miss Ryde. 
 
 " Yes, it is I, John," she said. " I got off 
 at Heading, for I wanted my old walk through 
 the fields and along the river path, and there was 
 this child just as I came to it. I sent some luggage 
 on by a Badgeley boy, and it is there by this time 
 unless the Queen has special hours for passage over 
 her bridge." 
 
 " You had forsworn Badgeley so absolutely," he 
 said, " that we could not suppose you would ever 
 come again. Everybody would be at the house 
 this evening if they knew you were here." 
 
 " Fate can order that," said Miss Ryde. " I came 
 for Miss Lacy. We want her in Chelsea, and there 
 are some pictures Eleanor says she must see at once. 
 She is to do as she pleases, however." 
 
 u That point will have to be settled with my 
 mother, I fancy. She will hold fast." 
 
 " I think I will go up," said Marion, with an evi 
 dent effort. " I will come down again if I am really 
 needed, but Mrs. Ballantyne is quite herself now ; a 
 
BALLANTYNE 145 
 
 delightful self, and it is a dear old place, but I have 
 lingered long enough." 
 
 " I shall not urge. You know best," said Miss 
 Ryde, who had looked at both quietly, and gave 
 a little nod as she stepped through the long win 
 dow, and then went forward to Mrs. Earnshaw, 
 who came flying over the lawn. 
 
 " Barbara Ryde ! You ! And why would n t you 
 come before, and will you stay now ? " 
 
 " A night," said Miss Ryde, submitting to be 
 folded to Mrs. Earnshaw s capacious breast, but 
 shaking herself vigorously when the embrace ended. 
 
 "Always the same," Mrs. Earnshaw said ; "and 
 none but me would forgive the way you go on 
 if you re but touched. Sure it s time you came, for 
 you re needed," she added, with a significant glance 
 toward the pair who had gone into the library, and 
 stood before the window. 
 
 " I want no words," said Miss Ryde, decisively. 
 " Man s meddling, or woman s either, mars and not 
 makes, if there s aught like that in question. I will 
 use my own eyes, my dear, and do better left to 
 myself." 
 
 " Crusty as ever," said Mrs. Earnshaw, with her 
 mellow laugh. " Go your way as you will, but you 
 will take a cup of tea with us. They come at 
 five, just as always, and it will not steal much of 
 your time. T is five now, indeed, but I dare say 
 you are tired, Barbara." 
 
 "Not I," returned Miss Ryde, marching across 
 10 
 
146 BALLANTYNE 
 
 the little lawn and brandishing her umbrella as 
 she went. Mr. Earnshaw greeted her courteously, 
 but evidently with certain mental reservations, and 
 Marion smiled as she saw the look with which 
 Miss Ryde regarded him, and the sudden twinkle 
 which announced a resolution. 
 
 " It s a satisfaction to think of a live man down 
 here who will not mince words," she began in a 
 pause which came at last, in spite of Mrs. Earn- 
 shaw s best efforts to keep the conversation away from 
 dangerous subjects. She had looked apprehensively 
 at Miss Ryde now and then, quite conscious that 
 mischief was in her mind, and uncertain what form 
 it might take. That lady, in the meantime, sipped 
 her tea and looked calmly over her cup at her 
 antagonist. 
 
 " Barrows will never stop for the sake of sparing 
 feelings like John, here," she went on deliberately. 
 
 " You are all paralyzed, it is true, and lose natural 
 sensitiveness, living under that upas-tree of a Queen, 
 but he is good as an electric shock. At least you are 
 forced to know that other people are thinking, and 
 that the world moves in spite of your faith that it 
 does n t." 
 
 " Barbara ! " cried Mrs. Earnshaw, desperately. 
 " Why will you stir strife with such sayings ? You 
 ought to know Mr. Earnshaw is not one to bear 
 them." 
 
 " And why not ? " said Miss Ryde, defiantly. 
 " Why should he not bear them ? They are the only 
 
BALLANTYNE 147 
 
 truth that ever comes to his ears, shut in here in the 
 middle of his cheese, as comfortable as La Fontaine s 
 rat. Why not ? " 
 
 " Barbara Ryde," said Mr. Earnshaw, putting down 
 his cup and rising from his chair, with the look of 
 dignified and polished condemnation that had for a 
 generation struck terror to all offenders. " It is god 
 less women who are responsible for more evil than 
 all your ignorant, benighted Anarchists and other 
 children of the devil. You have no real interest in 
 these things. You sacrifice nothing. You desire 
 only, like the Athenians, to hear and to see daily 
 some new thing. It is the mere foam and fury of 
 disjointed minds that you call modern thought. We 
 lived our lives here peacefully till this curse came in, 
 and you will be judged for the evil, idle curiosity 
 and tampering with things too high for you has 
 wrought." 
 
 " Barbara, Barbara ! " implored Mrs. Earnshaw, 
 as Miss Ryde in turn put down her cup and stretched 
 her hand toward her umbrella. " Do remember that 
 we are all old friends, too old to disagree ; and don t 
 let fancies come between. Why would you begin 
 it ? " 
 
 Why would I ? " said Miss Ryde reflectively, 
 after a moment in which she and Mr. Earnshaw 
 faced each other in silence. " Because I had a 
 certain curiosity to see if the Middle Ages still ruled. 
 They do. You know no more of the real England 
 of to-day than the Babes in the Wood. I am satis- 
 
i 4 8 BALLANTYNE 
 
 fied. You will hear no more. You are a good soul, 
 Horatia Earnshaw, but I see no more use in pretend 
 ing we are in sympathy than I see in pretence of any 
 order. You will agree with me presently." And 
 Miss Ryde stalked through the open window, and 
 crossed the lawn with a determined step. 
 
 " I grieve that old relations must be altered," said 
 Mr. Earnshaw in his smoothest tone, but with flushed 
 cheeks. " But as rector of this parish and in charge 
 of souls, my duty is plain. This thing must be wiped 
 out, and I refuse hereafter to be a party to words on 
 such subjects under this roof. I include you, John, 
 as well as all others, though you have been less 
 obnoxious than your friends." 
 
 Mr. Earnshaw had risen to his full height, and 
 stood as if he would draw the circle of the Church 
 about himself and all that was his ; nor did he relax 
 even to Marion, who said good night with the feeling 
 that this might be only the first rumble of the earth 
 quake. Ballantyne lingered for a moment, for Mrs. 
 Earnshaw had turned to him impulsively, and Marion 
 crossed the lawn and went to her room, dressed 
 hastily and descended to the library, to find Miss 
 Ryde sitting there reading as quietly as if she had 
 never heard of conflict. 
 
 " I meant to make it impossible to come again," 
 she said, " and I really think I have succeeded. I 
 regard this as an accursed place. The life lived in it 
 is from beginning to end a parasitic one. I stifle 
 when I come into it. This ancient beldame, whose 
 
BALLANTYNE 149 
 
 whole existence has been obstruction ; this smooth 
 tongued man, who for once has been made to speak 
 his real mind, and whose fat living, whether he be 
 lieves it or not, is ground out of these poor ; this 
 unwholesome house, with hysteria for its presiding 
 genius, it is all false life from beginning to end, 
 and I want no more of it. There are better things 
 waiting for you, for John Ballantyne as well. As 
 I feel this minute, I could fire the house with my 
 own hands." 
 
 " I think it has made you unnatural, too," said 
 Marion, in amazement. " Dear Miss Ryde, why 
 should you let yourself be so stirred by things quite 
 outside your own life ? " 
 
 "They are not," Miss Ryde answered, after a 
 pause. u Nothing is outside my life that I choose 
 to make part of it. I had better say that the thing 
 that comes to my life is, by that token, a part of it. 
 I have made my protest now, as I will, please God, 
 make it hereafter against all false doctrine, accredited 
 or otherwise, and naught on earth embodies it like 
 the British Philistine. I belong to the order save as 
 I have been emancipated. Should I not know of 
 what I speak ? " 
 
 " But these are kind, dear people. Why should 
 you not enjoy this exquisite spot and all the good 
 things in it ? Think of it as a picture." 
 
 " I want no picture whose colors are mixed with 
 human tears, and whose shadows are human ignorance 
 and brutishness," said Miss Ryde, firmly. 
 
150 BALLANTYNE 
 
 " But you may quarrel with every lovely spot on 
 the earth s surface if you take that ground." 
 
 " And I have the right to quarrel if every reason 
 able brain in its midst is not seeking to bring nearer 
 its own level every other brain. Here it is wasted 
 force to live or to work, for every condition means 
 death. Come away." 
 
 " I may come, but I choose still to remember the 
 beauty, and to claim all the good there is in it," 
 Marion said. "As you, too, will do when this mood 
 is past. I do not know you." 
 
 Miss Ryde bent forward and touched Marion s 
 cheek. Her eyes were quiet and sad. 
 
 "It is simply that I have shut one more door 
 behind me, and am in a new room," she said. 
 "That is the way things go with me. Thoughts 
 come, thoughts of all orders, and I let them settle 
 and work as they will, and suddenly some day, out of 
 the mass, comes the one thing to be held to, the 
 crystallization of what was for me. This time seems 
 to have been chosen for a fresh departure ; and 
 though I admit it is a little uncomfortable for every 
 body concerned, it will not be in the end. Truth 
 must always mean the best ultimately." 
 
 " But truth seems to me so often such a purely 
 relative thing," Marion said ; and then, after a pause, 
 " What made you begin to think of these things ? " 
 
 Miss Ryde grew very pale, and a strange look 
 came into her eyes. 
 
 " Once in my life," she said, " I believed every- 
 
BALLANTYNE 151 
 
 thing that a man of many thoughts said to me, and I 
 believed a good while. I know better now, but out 
 of the chaos he presented to me, I have made some 
 selections that stand firm. My dear, may you never 
 have to get your experience in the same way." 
 
 Price had entered as she spoke, and took a cushion 
 or two from the sofa. " Does that mean that Mrs. 
 Ballantyne will come down, Price ? " Miss Ryde went 
 on, quietly. 
 
 " Mr. John is bringing her now, ma am," Price 
 said, and went toward the dining-room. 
 
 " She comes down very often, almost daily, lately," 
 Marion said, trying to recover herself. " She is very 
 frail. I think she seems more so every time. They 
 are there now, are they not ? " 
 
 Nothing more shadowy could well be conceived 
 than the white figure that leaned forward delightedly 
 as Miss Ryde entered the room. 
 
 u I have saved all my strength to dine with you," 
 she cried. " It is like old times. How good you are 
 to come ! " 
 
 Miss Ryde s face softened. Inveigh as she might, 
 she was none the less under the charm which had 
 held Marion, and dropping suddenly all her antago 
 nism, she gave herself up to it, and they lingered at 
 the table till Mrs. Ballantyne said : 
 
 " I must go up, but come with me, Barbara, as you 
 used to do." 
 
 Miss Ryde nodded silently, and followed, as the 
 fragile little figure was lifted in Ballantyne s strong 
 
152 BALLANTYNE 
 
 arms and carried slowly and steadily up the stairs. 
 Marion stood below watching the delicate head, with 
 its waving white hair lying on his shoulder, the face 
 illumined by the gleam of the lamp in Price s hand. 
 
 " How beautiful she is," Marion thought, as she 
 caught the smile sent back to her as they paused on 
 the landing, and then she turned into the library 
 and sat down by the window, and looked into the old 
 garden where night-moths were humming about the 
 lime-tree. It had all become so home-like, so famil 
 iar, that, in spite of the tension of the last month, she 
 felt a pang at the thought of separation from it. 
 
 Now that separation was certain, she wondered 
 why such tension should have been. It was the un 
 spoken rather than spoken word that had brought it 
 about, for since that first interview Mrs. Ballantyne 
 had been quite silent as to her own wishes, They 
 had sat much in her room reading and talking, and 
 though America as a topic had never once been 
 formally introduced, it had come up in a thousand 
 ways. Her own life there ; the growth and changes 
 of Boston ; the new ways in which wealth was com 
 ing; the type of man that made it, and of woman 
 that spent it ; art, literature, all and each in turn had 
 been canvassed, always as if seeking information ; 
 always with that silent undercurrent of dread and dis 
 like, and the demand, no less silent, but more and 
 more compelling, that her will should be fulfilled. 
 Now and then Ballantyne asked a question, but for 
 the most part he listened, making no comment on 
 
BALLANTYNE 153 
 
 the reply, and like one whose mind being quite settled 
 moved on undisturbed in its own lines. 
 
 " He thinks I am leagued against him," Marion 
 had thought often, with an impatient desire to show 
 that this was untrue, and then came his mother s 
 comment, or the question ingeniously framed to bring 
 out the worst side of the point that might have come 
 up. Strong as was Marion s sense of personal inde 
 pendence, she felt an often almost intolerable subju 
 gation, intangible yet firm as the thread the spider 
 casts about its prey. 
 
 " It is silly, and so absolutely blind," she thought 
 often. " The least real knowledge of human nature 
 would show her that she must defeat herself in the 
 end. I seem her tool and feel so, and yet she only 
 speaks my own thought." 
 
 Outside the walls of the invalid s room Ballantyne 
 put the subject away absolutely. Once or twice he 
 had been up to town, but save for this they had been 
 almost constantly together, and she had begun to feel 
 the same sense of dependence on his quiet strength 
 that made part of the relation of all to him. He 
 carried a burden. That, to one who watched him, 
 was plain, but he carried it with a cheerfulness that 
 deceived even his mother. 
 
 For the rest, he was the most delightful of com 
 panions, a thousand interests filling his life, of all 
 which they talked as the days went on, and her con 
 fidence grew, and reserve, save on one point, had 
 ended. With him the same fact seemed true, even 
 
154 BALLANTYNE 
 
 when she was most conscious of the underlying 
 reserve. There were moments when she felt sure 
 he understood her position, and when her inward 
 rebellion at his mother s methods was strongest, she 
 had once, at least, eaught a look that meant not only 
 comprehension, but something more j what, she had 
 not sought to define. 
 
 " He is under a spell," she thought, sitting in the 
 soft, lingering twilight with no consciousness of how 
 1 time was going, and remembering how his eyes had 
 rested on her, as she had come suddenly upon him 
 the day before, under the lime-tree where he had 
 been sitting with a book. The color had come to 
 her cheeks in a sudden flood as she met the look. 
 There were words on his lips, she knew, but Mrs. 
 Earnshaw s voice had sounded from the hedge, and 
 they had both moved toward her at once. It was 
 the memory of that look that had brought the color 
 again as Miss Ryde spoke, and now she was going, 
 and perhaps no words would ever come. 
 
 " I cannot help it," she thought. " Everything 
 here is unnatural. I want myself again. I must go 
 back to London and find out what I really think 
 about everything. Now I am under a spell, and 
 reason has fled. I will wait its return before I hear 
 or say more words that may only make the tangle 
 greater. For, when all is said, what can it be but 
 a tangle ? " 
 
 " Miss Ryde sends down good-night, ma am, and 
 she is tired and has gone to her room," said Price s 
 
BALLANTYNE 
 
 55 
 
 voice near her, and Marion rose with sudden 
 resolution. 
 
 " I am tired, too," she said, "and will go up now; " 
 and she went hastily up the stairs to her room, con 
 scious that she might soon be sought, and that here 
 was her best refuge. 
 
Chapter Eleventh 
 
 MISS RYDE descended next morning 
 with an energy that swept every 
 thing before it. Mrs. Ballantyne 
 had had one of the severest of her 
 attacks during the night, Price announced, and would 
 not let Mr. John out of her sight, and Miss Ryde 
 took full command : ordered a cart from the inn 
 for the luggage, saw that Marion ate a satisfactory 
 breakfast, and sent her up to pack, and then, with 
 hands behind her, paced up and down the long 
 drawing-room, shaking her head and muttering unin 
 telligible sentences as she went. 
 
 " What is to happen will happen," she said at 
 last aloud, as Marion entered in her travelling dress, 
 just in time to receive Mrs. Earnshaw, who dissolved 
 in tears as she saw her. 
 
 " It s all your fault, Barbara," she cried, " and to 
 think I should have to say it to your face ! You ve 
 broken my heart, and now you want to break others ! 
 Why won t you learn reason, and not throw away 
 your best friends just for whims ? " 
 
 Miss Ryde set her lips firmly and stood silent till 
 Mrs. Earnshaw wiped her eyes and tried to smile, 
 
BALLANTYNE 157 
 
 then, as she saw the preparations for departure, burst 
 into tears again. 
 
 " You are going ! " she said, " and you may never 
 come again; and what was the use of tangling 
 everything so that I can t even ask you to come 
 again ? You are crazy, Barbara." 
 
 "Perhaps I am, Horatia," returned Miss Ryde, 
 grimly, u but I prefer my kind to yours. I am not 
 as hard a flint as you take me for, and perhaps some 
 day you will see that I am none the less a friend. 
 You certainly will if you need me. Come, child ; 
 we are to walk, and there is no more than time. 
 John can t escape, and we must care for ourselves." 
 
 "It is miserable to go with no good-bye," said 
 Marion, distressed. " I do not know how to do it, 
 yet this may last for days, as it has before." 
 
 " Precisely, and therefore you have no responsi 
 bility in the matter," said Miss Ryde, firmly. "We 
 have nothing to do but to go, and I wish that before 
 leaving we could exorcise some of the spirits that 
 rule here. You think I am flinty and lack compre 
 hension, and perhaps both are true. But I hate 
 waste, above all of human life, and if ever a life was 
 wasted it is this one that waits on the whim of an 
 embodied lunatic asylum. Leave your good-byes as 
 I am doing, and Heaven help all in and out of the 
 house ! " And with this comprehensive prayer Miss 
 Ryde passed out from the gate, and stood waiting for 
 Marion till Mrs. Earnshaw, releasing her from a 
 close embrace, went sobbing across the lawn. 
 
158 BALLANTYNE 
 
 " They were so good. They have been so good," 
 Marion said, with shaking voice. 
 
 " Say what you like. I sha n t mind it," returned 
 Miss Ryde. " You don t see that it had to be, but 
 I am sorry you are dragged into it. Now come, else 
 we shall not get away till afternoon." 
 
 Marion looked back as they crossed the little 
 bridge with its ancient toll-taker, with the pang that 
 had often come to her in leaving some lovely spot 
 she might never see again. With it was something 
 no less strong, the curious sense of compulsion that 
 had held her here, and that seemed now to urge her 
 back, till she felt impelled, almost, to turn and wait the 
 will that had dominated her silently but profoundly. 
 She sighed heavily, like one coming out of hypnotic 
 sleep, as the train glided away from the little station, 
 and with every mile the sense of pressure lessened. 
 
 Miss Ryde held a book and nominally read, but 
 she watched the girl s face and nodded now and then, 
 like one convinced of the correctness of a theory. 
 
 " There shall be no more words till she wants 
 them," she said to herself. " She is dazed, and will 
 not know her own mind for a month, if she does 
 then." 
 
 " Come this evening for a bit, if you will," she said, 
 as the cab left her at her own door; and Marion smiled 
 yes, looking about her with a feeling of home-coming 
 that was most comforting. Mrs. Pattle received her 
 with open arms. Polly wept for joy. Below, the 
 river sparkled and the boats shot by. Even the roar 
 
BALLANTYNE 159 
 
 of London, muffled here, yet always the distinct under 
 tone, seemed part of the welcome, and she unpacked 
 and settled her belongings, rejecting Polly s aid, eagerly 
 rejoiced to feel again that freedom, the loss of which 
 was now a far more conscious fact than in the days 
 just ended. 
 
 Jane, the inflexible, came in presently, smiling with 
 suitably tempered gratification, with a message from 
 Miss Ryde. Mr. Norris and Eleanor were to dine 
 with her, and would Miss Lacy come also, else they 
 would not feel the party complete ? 
 
 This was the beginning of a constant series of en 
 gagements. The season was in full tide, and Marion 
 soon found herself in great demand, going about a 
 good deal with Eleanor and Mrs. Norris, and now and 
 then with Miss Ryde. The latter, however, preferred 
 her established methods, and simply allowed a little 
 more license than usual. 
 
 Marion met many old acquaintances, most of them 
 taking her reappearance for granted, and soon found 
 herself overwhelmed with invitations. Now and then 
 a stern dowager, who had heard that the rich young 
 American chose to live in lodgings among Bohemians, 
 Socialists, and all other elements of general upheaval 
 and disruption, eyed her with stony disapproval, tem 
 pered, however, by the consciousness that American 
 dollars were a great factor in the problem of younger 
 sons; and, for the most part, the days were simply a 
 choice of pleasant things. 
 
 Mr. Beresford she encountered everywhere, but he 
 
160 BALLANTYNE 
 
 remained faithful to the Sunday evenings in Cheyne 
 Walk, bringing with him strange captures of all 
 orders; and the days slipped away, each fuller than the 
 last, but each with its distinct sense of loss, for in not 
 one of them had John Ballantyne given token that he 
 remembered her existence, save on the day following 
 their leaving, when a brief note had come, saying that 
 his mother was no better, and regretted that she could 
 not have seen them again. 
 
 Marion wrote to Mrs. Ballantyne more than once, 
 and then decided to let the correspondence drop till 
 she was stronger again, and so a month passed. The 
 " season " waned, and London, hot, dusty, and weary, 
 waited August, and the day of release for the toilers 
 of Hyde Park, and Rotten Row, and Piccadilly. 
 
 At last it came, and even in Chelsea were signs of 
 flight. Cabs loaded down with hampers, gun cases, 
 and fishing-rods waited before doors, from which issued 
 mercantile gentlemen, clad in wondrous raiment mod 
 elled after their own theories as to a sportsman s dress, 
 and scanned critically by small boys who waited and 
 hooted in chorus, as indignant cabmen threatened 
 from boxes or even descended for personal encounters. 
 A day or two of this and then London was empty, 
 save for the two or three million who remained to 
 take their holiday a day or two at a time, or, a degree 
 below, oblivious that the year knew any days but days 
 of toil. 
 
 Marion had declined all invitations. A quiet nook 
 in the Lake country ; an old inn set deep in the hills 
 
BALLANTYNE 161 
 
 beyond the route of tourists, and full still of the flavor 
 fast passing from all but the most secret retreats ; it 
 was this that drew her, as she remembered days in 
 her early girlhood spent there with her father. Miss 
 Ryde, who had watched her silently, smiled somewhat 
 grimly as Marion announced that she should go no 
 where, and meant to rest vigorously in order to be 
 ready for October work and November fogs. 
 
 " American as usual," she said. " I distribute my 
 rest as I go, and have no need of a holiday. But each 
 to his own method. Perhaps when you have spent 
 such energy as is necessary on resting, you will come 
 to me in Devonshire, and see what my old home is 
 like. I will write when I am ready for you, if you 
 are inclined to spare me a bit of your playtime." 
 
 " I shall love to come. It will be delightful," 
 Marion said, so heartily that Miss Ryde looked at 
 her for a moment, and then bent to give her the 
 touch of lips that seemed to have no knowledge of 
 kisses, yet now and then adventured brief lessons in 
 this unlearned branch, always with a little frown of 
 uncertainty at the end. 
 
 " Is it well to be quite alone ? " she asked, with 
 unusual hesitation. 
 
 " I am never lonely," Marion answered, hastily. 
 u For me it is often best ; " and Miss Ryde, who had 
 begun some inarticulate reply, checked herself and 
 turned to her knitting. 
 
 A week later, Marion, settled in the low-ceiled, 
 spacious room at the old inn, strewn now with books 
 
 ii 
 
162 BALLANTYNE 
 
 and papers and tokens of work, restlessly begun and 
 tossed aside, leaned from the open casement and 
 looked out on the valley and the mist-shrouded hills. 
 Calmness, quiet repose, all were here; an integral, 
 vital part of everything save her own eager, unquiet, 
 uncertain spirit. Miles of walking, hours of climbing 
 steep and remembered ascents, pilgrimages to one 
 point and another, and deep study of local traditions 
 and records had filled the days. 
 
 Ten of these had passed, and, in spite of deter 
 mined effort, restlessness still tormented. From hour 
 to hour the same sense of compulsion that had been 
 upon her in the weeks at Badgeley ruled. At mo 
 ments it was so strong that she lifted her head from 
 book or work, as if to face an unseen but powerful 
 presence, till she began to question if this might be 
 a haunted house, and she, for the time being, the 
 victim of some sad or malignant spirit. But the 
 bright fire and candle-light of evening curiously 
 enough always dispelled all this, and thus confirmed 
 her in the belief that it was all merest fancy, a freak 
 of tired nerves. 
 
 On the tenth day the feeling had been stronger 
 than on any that had preceded it, and Mrs. Porson, 
 as she brought in the tea tray, looked anxiously at 
 her pale cheeks. 
 
 u It s young company you re needing, me dear, 
 if you 11 pardon me. It s not natural being so 
 much alone with naught but your own thoughts. * 
 
 u I am very content," Marion said abstractedly, 
 
BALLANTYNE 163 
 
 and Mrs. Person with another word or two set down 
 the tray and went out. 
 
 The pressure did not lessen. Marion drank a 
 little tea, and then read on for a time ; wrote a letter 
 or two, and stopped at last to walk up and down the 
 room trying to argue herself into quietness and com 
 posure. It came at last in the old way as she laid 
 her head on the pillow, over which, for a moment, 
 grandfather seemed to lean, with the familiar form 
 of words, " It s all right, my pet," and soon she 
 slept profoundly. 
 
 Dreams came ; the same that, night after night, 
 had visited her. Long vistas of wonderful archi 
 tectural forms and landscapes like yet unlike any 
 thing her waking eyes had seen were before her, and 
 in the far remoteness a figure dim and undefined, 
 that sought to come to her and could not. To-night 
 the spell was lifted. It moved toward her at last, 
 swiftly and silently, the form she had never seen save 
 on sofa or bed or borne in the arms of her son. It 
 was Mrs. Ballantyne, whose eyes, dark and troubled, 
 were fixed on hers, and who bent over her. 
 
 " Oh, why, why did I not understand what I was 
 doing ? " she said. " I thought I was right, and I 
 have been so wrong. I know now. Help me, 
 Marion, help me to make the crooked straight. 
 There will never be rest, never be rest, till wrong 
 is made right." 
 
 The words ended in a wail. The hands were 
 outstretched, woe looked from the deep eyes, and 
 
i6 4 BALLANTYNE 
 
 Marion sprang up with a cry. Morning was there, 
 but for a moment she seemed to see the misty form 
 and hear the appeal in the familiar tones. Then 
 the same sense of soothing, unseen love was about 
 her, and the same words whispered themselves, " It s 
 all right, my pet ; wait a little. " 
 
 " Wait," Marion repeated, the sound of her own 
 voice startling her into full wakefulness ; but the dream 
 stayed on, nor did its power lessen as the day went on. 
 
 Mrs. Porson came up several times to inquire 
 anxiously how she felt, each fold of her triple chin 
 seeming to radiate good will and general approbation. 
 She had watched her comings and goings with per 
 plexed but continuous interest, settling at last to her 
 own and her equally curious husband s satisfaction 
 that the singular lodger probably meant to write a 
 book, and was gathering her material. 
 
 u There was two last summer as was, but none so 
 sensible like," she said to Marion herself. "Two 
 slips of girls they were, but they hired a cottage rough 
 as rough, and lived with the cottage folk, only they 
 came here for meals, and I said to them, What 
 pleasure can it be ? and they said, But, Mrs. Por 
 son, we have to live our background before we can 
 write it, and to this hour I am not certain rightly 
 what they meant, for they said it for everything. Is 
 it a background you re seeking after, me dear ? " 
 
 "No, a foreground, I think," returned Marion, 
 with a smile ; and Mrs. Porson, with an acquiescent 
 but bewildered series of nods, went her way. 
 
BALLANTYNE 165 
 
 " To-day I have neither," Marion said to herself, 
 as the mist took a character of sudden resolve and 
 closed in, till only a dim outline of the nearest trees 
 remained. " That seems to be all I have of late. 
 Just the inch or two beyond me is all that is mine, 
 and I must make the most of it. All the same, I 
 must have my walk, though only the King s highway 
 will be practicable this afternoon. Now for all the 
 armor this wonderful climate requires, and I will try 
 blind man s buff with nature." 
 
 " Keep to the straight road, me dear," Mrs. 
 Person said solicitously as she came to the door. 
 " You re not used even to that in our mists, but one 
 cannot bide inside the day long, and you 11 be fresher 
 for a sup of air." 
 
 A sup it was likely to prove. "It is really a 
 drizzle," Marion said, half loud, as she settled into 
 the steady swing learned in the long walks with her 
 father. "We will call it mist, however, in deference 
 to the prejudices of the neighborhood. At home, 
 now, the sun is shining and the August shimmer is in 
 the air. Home? Where is home? What would 
 make it ? I have none, nor shall I have. In the end 
 I shall be simply another wandering American, and, 
 like Miss Biggs, it will be wherever I hang up my 
 bunnit. " 
 
 The thought did not prove cheering, and as she 
 went she peered into the mist on either side, with no 
 power to determine what lay beyond, such diligent 
 attention being required to keep in the highway itself 
 
166 BALLANTYNE 
 
 that she finally grew weary, and turned about, paus 
 ing for a moment as she heard the sound of firm 
 footsteps coming steadily and close at hand. Some 
 stray tourist, she thought, and remained standing, for 
 the grayness all about seemed growing denser, and 
 mist was turning into fog of almost London consist 
 ency. Collision might at any moment happen, and 
 whether tourist or native she must sound some alarm. 
 
 " Take care ! " she cried. " There is some one 
 here." 
 
 u Some one ? " a voice answered, and in another 
 moment John Ballantyne held her hand, and she saw 
 his face, worn and harassed, but an eager light in his 
 eyes. 
 
 " I was coming to you," he said simply, as if only 
 that could have been expected. " Miss Ryde told 
 me you were here, and I could not wait to write." 
 
 u Fog seems to be your native element," said 
 Marion, trying to release her hand, which he still held 
 but dropped at her movement. u I shall never find 
 myself in one, without expecting you to appear as 
 pilot and bring me out in safety. Your mother is 
 better, then ? I have heard nothing from her for so 
 long that I feared she must be very ill indeed." 
 
 " She has been, but it is quite over," he answered, 
 with a little pause after the words. " I knew that 
 letters had missed you," he went on. " Did you not 
 know that she was dead ? " 
 
 "Dead ? " Marion repeated as the word came, and 
 stood motionless. 
 
BALLANTYNE 167 
 
 " Ten days ago," he said, and again she started. 
 Ten days before the dream had begun, and the figure 
 had striven to reach her and could not. 
 
 " It is horrible," she said, with a gasp. " What 
 shall I do ? " 
 
 " You are terribly startled. I ought not to have 
 told you so abruptly," he said, remorsefully. 
 
 " No, no," Marion answered, trying to recover 
 herself. "Tell me more. I want to know it all. 
 How is it that Miss Ryde did not send to me ? " 
 
 " It came so suddenly at last that there was no time 
 to send to any one," he answered, after a moment in 
 which he looked at her anxiously. u Had you not 
 better get back to the inn, though ? I think the mist is 
 rising. We can see some distance down the road." 
 
 " We will walk on a little ; that will be better," 
 Marion said, dreading return till she had heard the 
 story, and they turned at once. 
 
 " She had been a trifle better," he went on, " but 
 she could not endure to be left for a moment. The 
 last week or two I lived at her side, and slept only as 
 she made me lie down by her. The old horror was 
 on her, the dread of the sea and the memory of that 
 night in which my father and brother came to shore 
 dead, and only I had lived after all his struggle. 
 c You have promised. You will never tempt it 
 again, she said over and over \ and when I was silent 
 her voice went on and on, c Promise me, promise me, 
 till I hardly knew if I could still endure it. c Not till 
 you are ready to have me, was all I could say, but 
 
168 BALLANTYNE 
 
 this was not enough. She knew what it meant, and 
 tried desperately to make me pledge myself to forget 
 America, and cleave to the home here. 
 
 " This went on day after day till the last. That 
 afternoon she had been quite silent for an hour or 
 two, only looking at me as I sat by her, with the 
 same demand in her eyes, till suddenly the look 
 changed. John, John, she cried, but it was not I 
 to whom she spoke. John ! Was I wrong ? I 
 meant to be right/ and fell back dead." 
 
 He sighed, the long deep sigh of one coming from 
 sharp pain. " I shall take her home," he said. " In 
 her real mind that is what she would have wished. 
 I sail on Saturday. I was coming to look for you. 
 I needed to speak." 
 
 Marion walked on silently. The moment had 
 come that for weeks she had known must come, 
 and in the tumult of feeling that filled her she was 
 conscious of but one thought. She would be firm. 
 Nothing should break the resolution that she was 
 aware now had been forming, and that must at any 
 cost be kept. 
 
 " You know why I have come," he said. " I have 
 waited till I could act freely and unhampered, an 
 impossible thing so long as that other soul seemed to 
 draw its very life from me. It could not be helped. 
 I know what you think and others, but I have never 
 been able to see any other way. Now I am free. 
 Marion, I must have you in my life. Give me 
 yourself if you will." 
 
BALLANTYNE 169 
 
 As he spoke there came a swift brightening. Some 
 sudden shifting of wind sent the breaking clouds 
 crowding down the valley, till meadow and hillside 
 and lake lay clear before them, and they saw a faint, 
 watery sunshine striving behind the cloud. A stile 
 close at hand led into the meadow, and here Marion 
 sat down and for a moment shut her eyes. Why 
 should she struggle, or protest, or refuse? What 
 better life could come than one lived side by side 
 with this soul, eager as her own to help, nobler in 
 its renunciation and simple fidelity than any she had 
 ever known ? Why did he not compel her answer, 
 instead of standing there eager yet silent, his eyes 
 fixed upon her with a longing she dared not meet? 
 For a moment she wavered. Then she remembered 
 all that she had told herself as she waited. Why 
 must she renounce a wish as dear to her as his could 
 be to him ? What safety could there be for the 
 future, when, if she yielded, life would be a perpetual 
 looking backward ? Why would he not remain con 
 tent with the rich inheritance ready to his hand ? 
 
 " I cannot, no, I cannot," she cried passionately, 
 rising to her feet. u There is something you love bet 
 ter than me. Give up this going home. Stay here, 
 where everything claims you, and I will do all you ask." 
 
 " You love me, Marion ! " 
 
 He put out his arms, and for a moment she yielded 
 and felt the throbbing of his heart, and the tender 
 pressure that meant the fulfilment of deepest desire. 
 Then she struggled away. 
 
170 BALLANTYNE 
 
 " Oh, I am weak enough to yield at this moment," 
 she said, " but I will not. I will be true to what I 
 know must be. I have thought it all out over and 
 over. How could I tell you so if your mother had 
 not been bent that I should see with her ? But I had 
 to think. Here is where I belong. I knew it long 
 ago. You believe I should come to your mind, but 
 you do not know me. When the glamour is past, 
 it does pass, how could you bear it? You would 
 chafe and fret if I held you here. I should be 
 wretched if you held me there. Let us be wise 
 beforehand." 
 
 " Good God ! " John Ballantyne said. " Can you 
 mean that a mere fancy on your part is to stand be 
 tween us ? " 
 
 The words were ill chosen. Marion looked at 
 him proudly. 
 
 " If I give that name to your own feeling, do you 
 count it just ? " 
 
 " But, Marion, my darling, don t you see how 
 different the case is ? I am an American to the core, 
 and till now I have always had to reject my birth 
 right. I must not, I cannot in honor, do it longer. 
 You do not know what you ask." 
 
 " I ask nothing," Marion said. " I am not an 
 old Greek, trained to think the State first and hu 
 man ties of small account. It means much less to 
 me than life as I can make it. To you it comes 
 first." 
 
 " But it is the same really for both. You are let- 
 
BALLANTYNE 171 
 
 ting England divide us, when there is no question of 
 natural allegiance, only this mysterious dislike, preju 
 dice, call it what you will, inconceivable to me, even 
 when I seek most thoroughly to put myself in your 
 place. I must go home. I must take my place 
 where I belong. Marion, try to think with me. 
 Think what it means." 
 
 " I cannot change my thought at will. It has 
 grown in me no less surely than yours in you. It is 
 useless, John. You must go your way till your own 
 eyes have seen, and then " 
 
 " You are incomprehensible," he said, hotly. u If 
 you love at all, how can you for one instant palter 
 with it so ? " 
 
 " And you ? " she said, a trifle bitterly. " It 
 is the woman s part to yield, I suppose, but 
 the thing in me that speaks is my inmost sense. I 
 have thought of it ever since I left you." 
 
 " You knew I loved you, Marion. You must 
 have known it from the beginning." 
 
 " Yes, I knew it," Marion said simply, and again 
 he caught her to himself. 
 
 "You knew it. You did not put away the 
 thought. There is only one ending where love has 
 come like that." 
 
 " In Arcadia, no," said Marion. " We are not in 
 Arcadia. We are children of to-day. Do you think 
 I will break your heart by holding you to a thing you 
 would detest no less than I should detest what you 
 demand ? No. We are set apart. You must go 
 
172 BALLANTYNE 
 
 your way. I love you, but I will not hamper your 
 life or my own." 
 
 " My God ! Marion ! " he said with a groan, for 
 she had turned from him as if to go. " Have I not 
 suffered enough ? Do you mean to break my 
 heart ? " 
 
 "You will break mine if you go on. I cannot 
 bear it," she said. " I am made to tell you this. 
 Is n t it better to know it now than to find ourselves 
 hopelessly at odds afterward ? " 
 
 "Then compromise," he said, eagerly. "I must 
 go, you know, but I will return. Not to stay, no, 
 not to stay," for her face had lightened. u You your 
 self may change. In any case, Marion, I implore 
 you call yourself mine till the year is over, and let me 
 have the thought to live on till I come back to you." 
 
 Marion looked at him silently, her face pale as his, 
 and met the tender, ardent eyes drawing her to him 
 with a power so mighty that she flung out her hands 
 with a cry. 
 
 u No, no ! I must not. I will not. Be free. 
 Leave me free. You will not change, nor I. I tell 
 you we are set apart, and by your own will." 
 
 " Call it so if you will," he said at last, after a 
 silence in which he searched her face in anguish, that 
 gave place to fixed and quiet resolution, a look she 
 knew well. u You cannot alter what is. I shall 
 come back to you, and you will have to listen once 
 more. God grant you then better knowledge of 
 what love means. Be free as you like. I would not 
 
BALLANTYNE 173 
 
 be if I could. I am yours body, soul, and spirit, and 
 till they dissolve I must be so. Good-bye, Marion." 
 
 For another moment he held her in his arms and 
 kissed her solemnly, tenderly, as if death were parting 
 them. Then he turned silently and went through 
 the mist down the way to the valley, and Marion sat 
 there till the sound of his footsteps on the rocky path 
 had died away, and she knew that she was alone. 
 Right or wrong, it was done. The old Puritan 
 doggedness and insistence, its morbid conscience, its 
 analysis and self-dissection, each and all in her in 
 heritance, had worked together and driven from her 
 what she knew well to be the best gift life would 
 ever offer. 
 
 " It was for him, for him," she said at last, and 
 wrung her hands, yet in the saying doubted her 
 self, and so doubting went her way though the mist, 
 following in footprints soon divided from her own, 
 and leading far beyond any path her feet might 
 follow. 
 
Book II 
 
 Chapter First 
 
 EARLY September brought with it the 
 winds of later autumn, and the passage 
 was so stormy that, for a day or two, 
 Ballantyne, heartily against his will, 
 kept his berth and yielded to the enemy. On the 
 third he staggered out, and up to the deck, on which 
 a fine rain fell steadily, sky and sea alike merged in 
 the long stretch of gray, through which the great 
 ship forged uneasily ahead on the long slow swell of 
 the waves through which she ploughed. 
 
 Even rain was welcome after the close state-room, 
 whose port-hole the steward obstinately refused to 
 open, with dark tales of what had happened to ob 
 stinate passengers who would have more air than 
 the ship s rules allowed, and who had been swept out 
 of berths, and otherwise knocked about by intruding 
 and unexpected waves. 
 
 For a time he walked, seeking the sea legs he had 
 been advised to find, and gradually learning how to 
 adjust himself to the motion, though he was forced 
 to intersperse it with occasional wild clutches at 
 
BALLANTYNE 175 
 
 ropes or railing, and sudden certainties that with this 
 last lurch or plunge she had certainly overdone it, 
 and must be on the way to the bottom. Memory 
 was there, too, of the wild days and wilder nights, 
 burned into every fibre of recollection, by his 
 mother s insistent repetition. He had dreaded his 
 own possible involuntary terror of the sea, as some 
 thing utterly unmanly and contemptible, and rejoiced 
 as he found that freedom had come and that he 
 faced it with an indifference, born, it might be, of 
 later and sharper sorrow, which now he resolutely 
 shut away. 
 
 The ship was crowded with returning tourists, 
 most of them at present given over to seasickness, 
 a fact rather desirable than otherwise, since it left 
 him quite free to pursue his own thoughts. By 
 noon, however, there were faint gleams of sunshine, 
 and he went in to lunch reluctantly, taking the place 
 assigned with little note of his neighbors, till, a few 
 moments later, when a pair entered and took places 
 opposite him, the elder bowing easily with a suave 
 and comprehensive good will which produced upon 
 Ballantyne, for some inscrutable reason, a peculiarly 
 irritating effect, a certain pervading unctuousness, 
 being singularly offensive. 
 
 "A Mormon elder," he said to himself, after a 
 moment s observation. " Very like the extraordinary 
 one that argued his case before the Fabians. And 
 yet " 
 
 The doubt in his own mind increased as the voice 
 
176 BALLANTYNE 
 
 went on, a deep contralto, he would have called it, 
 in a woman, full of soft, rich inflections and sudden 
 rises and falls, to which the restless hands kept time. 
 In spite of the instinctive shrinking which struck 
 him as absolutely unreasonable, Ballantyne could not 
 but watch the singular being, the doubt always a 
 little stronger. There are men in whom the femi 
 nine is always uppermost. There are women whose 
 masculine quality is in every act. In this case the 
 blending was so balanced, that he had felt at first only 
 the momentary uncertainty, which had no real reason. 
 But as he looked there came, precisely why or how 
 he could not have told, a conviction so strong that he 
 sat back suddenly as if he had received an electric 
 shock. 
 
 " Great Heavens ! it is a woman ! " He had 
 nearly said it aloud. " It is a woman, and yet " 
 
 " And yet," he was forced to add again, as half an 
 hour later the pair rose and made their way toward 
 their state-room. In that half-hour a dozen convic 
 tions had come and gone. A Mormon elder, a 
 Franciscan monk out on a holiday, an artist who 
 chose to masquerade, a woman warrior of the days 
 of Tacitus, reincarnated, a diplomat whose eyes saw 
 everything and whose tongue told only what he 
 wished. It was an extraordinary head ; masculine 
 beyond doubt. The thick, crisp, close-cut flaxen 
 hair, parted at one side, had no accompanying pink 
 and white suggestion in complexion. The brows 
 were strong and dark, the eyes dark, yet with hazel 
 
BA LLANTYNE 177 
 
 lights, and a distinct touch of yellow in one, yet the 
 power in them was contradicted by their unceasing 
 restless scrutiny of all before them. The hands 
 were peculiarly small and white, and used incessantly 
 in gesture, as their owner talked rapidly and low with 
 his companion, who answered languidly as if still 
 oppressed by illness. 
 
 U A noble head," Ballantyne thought, noting the 
 firm white neck and the fine pose of that and the 
 shoulders. The brown robe, of monk it might be, 
 shrouded the form completely, yet it might be no less 
 the modification by feminine caprice of a garment 
 more practically comfortable for a long sea voyage, than 
 any modern ulster or close-fitting coat. Rope and 
 rosary were banished, a heavy cord on both hood and 
 as girdle carrying out the scheme. In any case it was 
 efficient disguise. Long ago Ballantyne, in watching 
 Rosa Bonheur at work, had recognized in her the rare 
 type found here and there in all nations, that in 
 which all perception of distinctive sex has vanished, 
 only the look, nobly human, remaining. In such case 
 richest life has been lived, high thought, noble deed 
 have moulded form and feature till they are of no 
 time, but of a significance bearing the same interpre 
 tation for ancient and modern. Such life made the 
 story of this head, had not the eyes denied much that 
 it seemed to signify. This man in whom strange 
 touches of woman quality showed at every turn, 
 this woman in whom the man was uppermost, which 
 was it, and how should one determine ? The nation- 
 
 12 
 
178 BALLANTYNE 
 
 ality was equally a puzzle. Russian he thought for 
 a time, noting the strong resemblance to one of the 
 best known, women in the Russian colony in London, 
 then, in surprise, German after all, as the low voice 
 rose presently and showed that as the language spoken. 
 But as a stray Frenchman, with the unhappy look 
 most travelling Frenchmen wear, entered and took his 
 place near them he was greeted in his own tongue so 
 irreproachably that Ballantyne returned to his first 
 conclusion. 
 
 u A man, of course. A polyglot elder ; all things to 
 all men. I hope there are no women in his troupe, 
 poor things." 
 
 He watched the exit from the dining saloon. The 
 step was free in spite of the long robe, the movement 
 of one accustomed to active life. There was even a 
 hint of martial carriage, a set of the shoulders that 
 seemed to speak of drill. This was often seen in mon 
 asteries, and thus it seemed simple enough that the once 
 soldier should bear the monk s robe more demonstra 
 tively than the cause demanded. Ballantyne returned 
 to the deck a little irritated at the persistence with 
 which the problem presented itself, and went down in 
 time to dinner, determined to drop a matter which 
 had no possible concern for him. The pair were al 
 ready there. Ballantyne bowed as he took his place, 
 and his vis-a-vis, taking this for an overture, instantly 
 opened conversation in English no less perfect than 
 his German. Ballantyne had more than once caught 
 his eyes fixed intently upon him, and shrunk inwardly 
 
BALLANTYNE 179 
 
 from a certain power they contained. It was evident 
 they could weigh and measure ; that they knew what 
 to seek and how to seek, and that they were not ac 
 customed to any final thwarting of will, no matter 
 what obstacles might lie between beginning and end 
 of a quest. All the more he disliked and distrusted 
 them, and in spite of many advances held himself 
 aloof, watching the effect on the young man not much 
 beyond boyhood, who listened to each word with fas 
 cinated absorption. 
 
 This was a type more familiar but hardly less 
 marked. He had seen it among some of the Oxford 
 men, but never before so fine or strong. The whole 
 upper head was magnificently developed, the brow 
 noble in every line, and the deep-set eyes were gray, 
 with a curious unworldliness and innocence in their 
 look, accented by the waving brown hair. Chin and 
 mouth were sensitive and almost weak, but the nose 
 had energy sufficient to override their indications. A 
 little under medium height, the figure was firm and 
 well knit, but face and figure alike were that of scholar 
 and dreamer, not man of action. 
 
 " What will the elder do with him ? " Ballantyne 
 thought ; and day by day he wondered more, attracted 
 against his will, since the talk ran always in lines, 
 once most beloved, but, since his college days, well 
 nigh driven out of mind by crowding claims of new 
 work. Green of Oxford was the prophet whose flag 
 the younger man bore, but the elder answered him 
 always with another name quite unknown; and as 
 
i8o BALLANTYNE 
 
 Ballantyne heard incessantly, "But this is Donato s 
 view. Now listen to what Donato has shown con 
 clusively is so, and so, and so," he gave an involuntary 
 attention which the elder man was quick to mark. 
 
 Gradually, and always against his inward will, he 
 was drawn in, and found himself with them on deck 
 eagerly discussing subtle points, and daily more and 
 more impressed by the mass of knowledge on which 
 the elder drew for illustration or final clinching of his 
 flood of argument. 
 
 Pendleton Morris for the elder, Thomas Percival 
 for the younger, he soon found were the thoroughly 
 English names of his companions, though now and 
 then a sudden rolling r betrayed a possible touch of 
 Celt in the former s make-up. 
 
 The worship in Percival s eyes not only interested 
 but often touched Ballantyne profoundly. He hung 
 on the words of the elder man as a woman listens 
 where her whole heart is given. It carried even a 
 demand in its quality, as if this woman-side made its 
 unconscious appeal for shielding and protection. 
 Within a day or so it became plain also that he had a 
 rival, for the young Frenchman had yielded to the 
 spell which Morris seemed able to exert at will, and 
 hung upon him with a more demonstrative absorption 
 than Percival showed. Ethics and philosophy were 
 by no means his forte. He resented the time spent 
 upon them, but his blue eyes gleamed as he declaimed 
 Hugo and De Musset, and Ballantyne found to his 
 amazement that French poetry old and new were no 
 
BALLANTYNE 181 
 
 less a part of his elder s equipment, and that he 
 responded to each hint of his new recruit with an 
 enthusiasm and energy as thorough as his own. 
 
 Whatever motive or plan might be, and that motive 
 and plan were always there Ballantyne felt certain, 
 his pure delight in intellectual quality and in the play 
 of his own wonderful power was no less clear. From 
 early morning, far into the night, he walked the deck 
 or sat down at random to expound lustily some new 
 point, and when with him Ballantyne yielded more 
 and more to the charm exerted, only when alone 
 reverting to the earlier impression. 
 
 As time went on, and the tables and deck began to 
 be filled, the restless red-brown eyes roved over the 
 passengers, pausing here and there in approval, but 
 for the most part with thinly veiled contempt. 
 
 " One learns to classify quickly at last," he said 
 one day, noting Ballantyne s eyes upon him. " In a 
 hundred there may be three, well if there be one, who 
 has mind and soul enough to be moved by the highest 
 thought. Look for yourself, though you hardly need 
 that injunction. You are a sharper inquisitor than I. 
 Now confess that you do not like me ; that you study 
 me and are doubtful, yet lean to mercy in spite of 
 yourself." 
 
 He looked at him with the smile, apparently frank, 
 in which the eyes this time had part, a fact not always 
 the case. Now they flashed merrily as he met Bal 
 lantyne s silent look. 
 
 " Anglo-Saxon to the marrow," he said. " It is 
 
i8a BALLANTYNE 
 
 the instinctive conflict of race, perhaps ; the old story 
 of Scot and Saxon." 
 
 " Then you are Scotch ? " 
 
 " Without doubt," Morris returned, " though long 
 wandering has made me a citizen of the world. 
 Tongues are my passion no less than people. To 
 understand the last there must be knowledge of the 
 first. So I have lived in many lands, and learned 
 their secrets as the key was given. It is Italy that 
 brought me Percival here. I gather my recruits where 
 I can." 
 
 "Ah," Ballantyne said, the words convincing him 
 that his first surmise had been true. " Then you 
 carry a propaganda with you ? " 
 
 " Always." 
 
 " And its nature, if I may ask." 
 
 " Knowledge. I want only those who would 
 know." 
 
 " What ? " 
 
 " Life, law, themselves. Look about you. How 
 many men or women here carry with them expression 
 or possibility of such desire ? Are they not all plainly 
 in the state that Plato bewailed, and what better word 
 for them than his ? c Is not a soul to be deemed halt 
 and lame who hates voluntary falsehood, and is ex 
 tremely indignant at himself and others when they tell 
 lies, and yet receives involuntary falsehood, and does 
 not mind wallowing like a swinish beast in the mire 
 of ignorance, and has no shame of being detected ? 
 
 " That is true for the masses everywhere," Ballan- 
 
BALLANTYNE 183 
 
 tyne answered. " It can hardly be true for America, 
 with her diffusion of knowledge and the thought that 
 made her and must underlie all her growth." 
 
 "America s chief thought, like that of your own 
 country, my friend," said Morris, " is how most 
 quickly to pile up shekels. I went to America twenty 
 years ago, believing that such thought as institutions 
 of men in this day could hold was in them. It was 
 a youthful delusion. If you seek the same, go back 
 to your own place before the wound comes to you 
 that came to me. There is more real outreaching 
 in little Italy, this hour, among her best, than in all 
 the great Republic so near us now. Take a return 
 steamer, unless you are bent on seeing for yourself; 
 but if you will see, remember that you were warned." 
 
 " I shall not turn my back upon my own," Ballan- 
 tyne answered. " I have heard such words before, 
 but I cannot accept them. Whatever the surface 
 show may be, my country, I am certain, keeps the 
 inward spring still clear." 
 
 u Your country ? To-be, you must mean. You 
 will be less ready for nationalization presently." 
 
 " I do not need it. I am an American." 
 
 Percival burst into a ringing, boyish laugh at the 
 utter stupefaction on Morris s countenance. 
 
 " Now you know the mental state of our German 
 friend," he said ; and went on to Ballantyne : " We 
 were crossing a spur of the Apennines last spring, and 
 fell in with part of an Italian regiment, so we marched 
 with them and talked. Morris knows a lot of Italian 
 
1 84 BALLANTYNE 
 
 dialects, and talked with this one and that and a stray 
 Spaniard as well. A German officer joined us after a 
 bit, and I fell into that tongue till he got too much for 
 me, and I called on Morris to explain some shade of 
 meaning I had not caught. The German listened for 
 a moment amazed at his expounding, and then held up 
 his hands. c Ach, Gott ? Was fur ein Landsmann 
 ist das ? he said. But I am surprised as he. You 
 have no American accent." 
 
 "I have lived in England since early childhood," 
 said Ballantyne, hastily. " Now I am returning home 
 to my own place." 
 
 u You have friends and relatives on this side, of 
 course ? " 
 
 " Next to none, and none that I know. I return 
 because I belong here, not because any specific in 
 terests or obligations of family call me." 
 
 A quick glance passed between Morris and Perci- 
 val, not unnoted by Ballantyne ; but at this point, 
 Regnault, whose English was very imperfect, con 
 ceived that attention had long enough been given to 
 others, and broke in with some demand which ended 
 in Percival s descending with him to the saloon. Bal 
 lantyne had turned away to render some slight service 
 to a lady near him, and then fell to pacing the deck 
 again, his tall figure and soldier-like bearing attract 
 ing admiring glances which passed quite unmarked by 
 their recipient. 
 
 " Marion has another ally in this strange man," he 
 thought. " It is most singular, this conviction which 
 
BALLANTYNE 185 
 
 he appears to think as inevitable as she, that only dis 
 appointment waits me. So be it. It is my business 
 to face it whatever it is." 
 
 His eyes wandered as he went to a group near the 
 door of the saloon with whom Morris was evidently 
 renewing acquaintance, an elderly lady of rather 
 severe and critical aspect, ameliorated by a distinct 
 flavor of worldliness, whose face thawed but slightly, 
 though thaw was evident as she met the effusive 
 greeting of Morris, who turned then to the younger 
 pair with even greater flow of cordiality. There 
 was a ripple of laughter and a flood of exclamations 
 and wonder, hardly over when Ballantyne saw that 
 he was beckoned to, and, much against his will, went 
 forward to be presented at once to mother and daugh 
 ters, there being no doubt whatever as to the Ameri 
 can accent of the last. Their voices, however, were 
 sweet and girlish, and he found himself studying their 
 inflections, while they in turn listened to him with a 
 deference, the usual American instinct toward any 
 well-defined British product. 
 
 Morris looked on mischievously, delighted at their 
 delusion ; and they chatted till Percival and Regnault 
 reappeared, to be promptly presented and received 
 with only a shade less cordiality than had greeted 
 Ballantyne. The name, Barstow, he was sure his 
 mother had talked of, but in just what connection he 
 could not recall. In the face of the older girl was an 
 occasional suggestion of Marion ; faint and intangible 
 yet evident, and even, while vaguely resenting its pres- 
 
186 BALLANTYNE 
 
 ence there, he watched eagerly for the look to come. 
 Mrs. Barstow talked well and bandied words with 
 Morris, who, to his surprise, proved to have a reser 
 voir of nonsense adapted to precisely such encounters, 
 and laughed delightedly at every turn of the swift 
 talk. It was impossible not to share it all and even 
 light-heartedly for the time being, so contagious was 
 the abounding vitality and cheer of this mysterious 
 man, as to whom question and perplexity never 
 ceased. A man of the world most certainly, and 
 meeting these people of the same order on their 
 own ground, yet, if words meant anything, they too 
 summed up for him in the definition he had quoted. 
 He changed countenance slightly as he chanced to 
 meet Ballantyne s scrutinizing look, and as he passed 
 him later on the deck said, hastily : 
 
 " Philistines all, but the best of their kind. They 
 are one of the first families in Boston. You cannot 
 know better. If that were your part of the country, 
 now," he paused interrogatively, " you could be 
 coached beyond belief. The old lady there has every 
 pedigree at her fingers ends." 
 
 " Pedigree ? " returned Ballantyne, in some amaze 
 ment ; but Morris had shot back to his post, and was 
 bowing and smiling and gesticulating with abnormal 
 facility, and he joined them again presently, to listen 
 to joint reminiscences of a Roman winter, and at last 
 to an analysis of all to be expected on a return to 
 Boston after a year s absence. 
 
 " Of course it will and must seem a little crude," 
 
BALLANTYNE 187 
 
 Mrs. Barstow said, decisively. " That we are pre 
 pared for, though I confess there are certain compen 
 sations. Boston is more English than anything you 
 will find among us," she added, turning to Ballantyne, 
 who bowed gravely. 
 
 " I had supposed and hoped that it would be more 
 genuinely American than any other point," he said. 
 " Perhaps you mean, however, that it preserves more 
 of the early spirit, and is thus a repetition of that 
 phase of English force that founded it in the 
 beginning." 
 
 " Hardly," returned the lady, slightly puzzled. 
 " Of course the old families are devoted to anything 
 belonging to those early days. But I hardly meant 
 that. It is modern England of which I was thinking." 
 
 Ballantyne s eyes rested on her with a look she 
 could not understand. 
 
 " Then the American idea is dying out ? " he said. 
 
 " The American idea ? " repeated the elder girl, 
 with a little raising of her eyebrows. " I beg pardon, 
 but you have been reading some political speech, Mr. 
 Ballantyne." 
 
 Ballantyne s eyes darkened. 
 
 " It is difficult for me to understand American 
 indifference," he said. "To belong to America 
 seems to me so dear a birthright, that I find what I 
 must count as a fad merely, incomprehensible. An 
 Italian, a Frenchman, disdains the thought of claim 
 ing any other country for himself. Are you, with 
 your noble inheritance, less patriotic than they ? " 
 
i88 BALLANTYNE 
 
 " Aggressive Americanism the kind Dickens 
 found with us has gone out since good taste be 
 came more general," said Mrs. Barstow, severely. 
 " It was never so rampant as he gave you to under 
 stand, but his associations were, while here, most 
 miscellaneous, unhappily so." 
 
 " As I intend mine to be," said Ballantyne, quietly. 
 " The Major Pogram type, I suppose, may still exist, 
 but there must be some remnant of another, that 
 of the American citizen who is not ashamed to 
 honor his native land." 
 
 "Oh, certainly, certainly," Mrs. Barstow returned, 
 nervously, embarrassed by a significant look from 
 Morris ; and Ballantyne, hot with indignation, left 
 them shortly, with a slight inclination which the 
 daughters pronounced deliciously English. 
 
 " Most extraordinary," the mother murmured. 
 "What has he been reading or hearing that has 
 given him such a set of ideas ! " 
 
 She looked suspiciously at Morris, whose counte 
 nance wore its most childlike and candid expression, 
 but he gave her no enlightenment. Now and then, 
 as he chatted, he cast a reflective glance toward 
 Ballantyne, who had settled into his steamer chair 
 with a book, and presently he left the group and 
 descended to his state-room. Land was within twenty- 
 four hours, and there were words still to be spoken 
 that needed more of the thought he had already 
 given. 
 
Chapter Second 
 
 BALLANTYNE, who had argued himself 
 into repentance for a show of feeling, too 
 much on the order of breaking a butter 
 fly, gave another hour of after-dinner 
 chat to the Boston party, who went be 
 low as the wind freshened, a wind that urged them 
 forward, and that would send them by early morning 
 easily into port. 
 
 A keen excitement throbbed in his veins, of which 
 his quiet face gave no token. To sleep was impossi 
 ble, and he paced up and down the deck more and 
 more restless. He began to realize now his practical 
 aimlessness. No fixed plans had been made beyond 
 the immediate journey to Nantucket and the laying 
 his mother among their own kin, and now he strove 
 to settle definitely his course for the coming months. 
 
 After Nantucket, what ? A cousin in St. Louis 
 and one in Chicago were possible objective points, 
 and Boston certainly held kinsfolk, who, however, if 
 they shared the development which had expatriated 
 Marion and spoke in the words of the Barstow family, 
 could hardly aid him in the acquirement of any real 
 knowledge. 
 
1 9 o BALLANTYNE 
 
 From day to day he had looked curiously at the 
 men on board, finding a large element of prosperous, 
 comfortable, well-fed subjects, differing little, save for 
 a slightly more alert expression, from the same class in 
 London. He had met their order season after season, 
 and knew well what they represented. He had knowl 
 edge no less accurate of the more aggressive and pushing 
 type, the American, for his own generation incurably, 
 ineradicably vulgar, but leaving behind him an ameli 
 orated product, a generation often developing into 
 finer forms. How it would be to deal with them in 
 the mass he hardly dared to consider. 
 
 For the moment the temptation came upon him to 
 travel as Englishman rather than American, and take 
 the side presented to him in this way, letting his own 
 conclusions rule, but accepting what people seemed 
 ready to offer as their own estimate of the thing to be 
 judged. 
 
 " Evidently I am to be both," he thought at last, 
 indignation and amusement contending within him, 
 " and thus have a double opportunity of seeing both 
 sides of everything." 
 
 He looked up as he ended, and saw Percival making 
 his way toward him. 
 
 " May I join you ? " he said in his gentle voice, as 
 he came nearer. " The last night out is fairly certain 
 to be a restless one, and I am as curious as you must 
 be to know what this strange land has to offer. I 
 heard an American a few minutes ago insist that he 
 had caught in some cross-current of wind the perfume 
 
BALLANTYNE 191 
 
 of ripe cornfields, something purely American, he 
 claimed, but I was not competent to judge." 
 
 " It is your first crossing, then ? " Ballantyne asked, 
 wondering how he happened to be alone, and also at 
 a very perceptible nervousness of manner which he 
 was evidently trying to shake off. 
 
 " Yes, the first," he said, after a moment, and 
 went on : " We all part so soon that I want to say 
 one or two things that have been uppermost in my 
 mind ever since our real talks began. Morris always 
 objected, and said there was time enough ; but this is 
 my affair really, rather than his. I want you to join 
 us. Not at once, for I understand you intend to 
 travel somewhat ; but after a little. I want you to 
 think of us as representing something you may by 
 and by like to look at; as representing something 
 you may be glad even to fall back upon." 
 
 He had lost all nervousness as he spoke, and 
 looked at Ballantyne with his clear eyes as if he 
 had the right to expect interest. 
 
 " What is us ? " the latter asked. 
 
 " A community to be ; now, only a few of like 
 mind. The Brotherhood of the New Day. " 
 
 u I know no new day," Ballantyne answered, slowly. 
 u The best things in any generation have been from 
 the beginning. The name itself is an exclusion of 
 our whole inheritance." 
 
 " But you must grant," Percival said, eagerly, " that 
 all progress consists in a modification, a rearrangement 
 of old forms into newer, more available shape. The 
 
192 BALLANTYNE 
 
 many cleave to the old, are bound by custom and 
 tradition, and remain bond slaves till death. This is 
 one class ; and rich and poor alike are in it, because 
 it includes all the unthinking. Then comes the pure 
 materialist, who wants nothing, and affirms nothing 
 beyond what his microscope or his chemical tests will 
 give him. In his own fashion he is no less bound 
 than the first. Last, you have the few to whom 
 insight has been granted, and who must work together 
 toward such ends as it is possible to realize. There 
 is no less chance for high purpose, for consecration, 
 than in those elder days we count so precious and so 
 impossible to reproduce." 
 
 " But this is the aim of the church ; of unions 
 of all sorts, from socialism up and down," said Bal- 
 lantyne. " Why do you need a fresh organization or 
 revamping of names ? " 
 
 " Because the time has come when the few who 
 know must band together and live their lives un 
 touched by the mass of lower aims. The church, 
 you must know, modern philanthropy, civilization, as 
 we use the word, each and all are benumbing, dead 
 ening forces. All the beauty and color of life are 
 washed out in the flood of dreary common-schooling 
 and the hideous monotony of working life. We want 
 a new basis. We want the union of beauty in all its 
 most glorious forms, with a life of service and high 
 thought. We are all earners as well as students, but 
 we believe each can help the other." 
 " A co-operative scheme, then ? " 
 
BALLANTYNE 193 
 
 u Yes, in part, but differing from the ordinary 
 communal arrangement in that we affirm our own 
 individuality, and the rights of each as against the 
 tyranny of any whole. It is a declaration of freedom 
 we sign, not a contract of subjection to the many." 
 
 " You have tried it, then ? " 
 
 " Not here ; no. But there is a small society in 
 London which owes its life to Morris s theory. 
 We worked it out together in Italy, or rather he 
 worked it out, allowing me to follow his thought ; 
 and I went back for a winter and began in his lines, 
 after he had himself been with us a short time and 
 laid the foundations. It aims to include the advan 
 tage of monastic seclusion in freedom for thought 
 and study, without the monastic incubus of religious 
 formalism, and with the family permitted or not 
 excluded, though the time for that has not yet come, 
 I believe." 
 
 u Then women have a future rather than a present 
 share ? " 
 
 Percival looked up hastily. Something in Bal- 
 lantyne s tone struck him as peculiar, and the steady 
 eyes fixed upon his face held something he could 
 not fathom. 
 
 " He knows nothing. Perhaps I do not know 
 myself," was Ballantyne s inward comment. " I 
 am more certain and less certain with every day." 
 
 " Women ? " Percival said, a little vaguely. " Oh, 
 yes. There are a housekeeper and maids, of course. 
 But now that you know a little of our aims, will you 
 
 13 
 
BALLANTYNE 
 
 not come and see for yourself? The place is back 
 of New York somewhere; Morris will tell you; an 
 old house he found in his tramps through what, he 
 says, is an unknown country. It is easy of access, 
 as it would have to be for his lectures." 
 
 " Then he lectures ? On what ? " 
 
 " Did you not know it ? " Percival asked, in sur 
 prise. " He has two specialties, Greek art and 
 Italian philosophy. He is a remarkable linguist." 
 
 " Does that bring with it comprehension of an 
 cient art ? " Ballantyne asked, with an irritation he 
 recognized as quite unreasonable. 
 
 " With a common man it might make against it," 
 Percival answered, simply. u He has the gifts of a 
 host. He has lived in Greece, and belongs to all the 
 archaeological societies as an accepted authority, and 
 he knows Rome also, almost as well as Lanciani him 
 self. He has studied in Italian monasteries ; lived 
 with the monks, and knows more of mediaeval phi 
 losophy, church and otherwise, than any man alive. 
 One canto of Dante with him gives you the heart of 
 the Middle Ages. I have felt that you did not under 
 stand him. Many do not, and I wanted you to know 
 the purity of his aims and something of what you 
 would hardly gather from him save incidentally." 
 
 " He is fortunate in his friends," Ballantyne said 
 with compunction, as the absurdity of his prejudice 
 again came over him. " But you are bringing in 
 alien elements to a country whose gospel is to the 
 poor. It seems to me anti-American." 
 
BALLANTYNE 195 
 
 " On the contrary," Percival replied, eagerly, " it 
 is because Morris believes in the restoration of the 
 original American idea; because he feels that the 
 sense of what a real citizenship involves and means 
 must be learned again, that he would bring together 
 men who can be trained to understanding of what a 
 state implies. I am ardently republican in thought. 
 I could not tolerate a scheme that excluded it. At 
 least come for a little and see what we mean." 
 
 "Very well," Ballantyne answered, moved and 
 drawn, as he had been from the beginning, by the 
 personal quality of the speaker, " I will come. You 
 may depend upon it," for Percival had looked at him 
 with a little doubt. " You must tell me how to find 
 you. It will be interesting to see how you are work 
 ing out your scheme. Your share at least can mean 
 nothing but good." 
 
 " Whatever it means, or may mean, owes any 
 good in it first of all to Morris," he said, earnestly. 
 He had searched for a card, and now they exchanged 
 addresses, and parted for what remained of the night. 
 Fog veiled the harbor, as they steamed slowly in 
 the next morning, and thus prevented any impres 
 sions but those of discomfort ; and in the general 
 confusion of landing, the delay of custom-house, and 
 all that torments the newly arrived, he chose a hotel 
 almost at random. Firm ground was a luxury suf 
 ficient for the hour; but after lunch, energy awak 
 ened, and he gave the afternoon to verifying certain 
 memories, possession of which he had felt must be 
 
i 9 6 BALLANTYNE 
 
 his. A pocket-map aided him when once the points 
 of the compass were settled, and thus it happened 
 that, having wandered into the neighborhood of 
 Louisburg Square, he suddenly recalled that one of 
 the old household lived here a cousin of his father s, 
 whose occasional letters his mother had always dreaded, 
 since their charm made another strand in the slender 
 cord that bound them to America. 
 
 A year or more had passed without word of any 
 sort, and he rang the bell and asked for Mrs. LeBaron, 
 uncertain even as to whether she still lived, and happy 
 in being told that she was at home and would see 
 him. As he waited, he looked about with vivid 
 curiosity. A work-basket in a corner was the only 
 token of feminine occupation. For the rest, it was 
 the room of student and book lover, a few good 
 pictures and a very perfect cast of the Venus de 
 Milo being the only adornments. The great oak 
 table in the centre of the room was filled with new 
 books, reviews, and periodicals, and a set of exqui 
 sitely carved chessmen was set out as if some problem 
 were under study. He recalled now that her husband 
 had been interested in one of the Boston daily papers, 
 and, till his health failed, for some years its editor-in- 
 chief, and he remembered that since her widowhood 
 they had been told most of her income came from 
 general literary work, always unsigned. 
 
 The bell rang before his kinswoman appeared, and 
 as he stood there examining the carving of the white 
 queen, quick steps ran up the stairs, and Morris 
 
BALLANTYNE 197 
 
 entered the room with a breezy rush, as if on most 
 familiar ground, pausing in profound amazement as 
 he saw Ballantyne. 
 
 u Well, John, and is it you really ? " a voice said, 
 and he turned to see the stately figure and noble head 
 of a woman well beyond middle life, who looked from 
 one to the other in momentary surprise, going for 
 ward then with both hands extended, and with a 
 peculiarly sweet, bright smile. 
 
 u John Ballantyne the card had prepared me for," 
 she said, " but Pendleton Morris is hardly a less sur 
 prising apparition. You do not come together, do 
 you?" 
 
 She shook hands as she turned to the latter, who 
 burst into profuse explanation. 
 
 " Boston via Liverpool is sometimes easier to one 
 than via New York," he said. " Threads tangle, 
 and hold fast, wherever one elects to settle, and my 
 web is spun closest on Hudson Heights. But I am 
 curious enough to wonder what brings you to this old 
 friend of mine," he added, turning to Ballantyne with 
 his frankest smile. 
 
 " Kinship," Mrs. LeBaron said, quietly. " We 
 are cousins once removed." 
 
 Morris s uneasy eyes darted from one to the other. 
 
 " You are absolutely unlike," he said indifferently, 
 and fell at once into question as to the doing of 
 Boston in the year since he had seen it. 
 
 " I had just this half-hour," he said at last. " The 
 cab is below that brought me here, and we take the 
 
198 BALLANTYNE 
 
 steamboat train for Fall River. I have come back 
 with my prize." 
 
 " Young Percival, I suppose you mean ? " 
 
 " Then you have not forgotten," he cried. u I 
 remember I showed you his portrait. He is in the 
 cab, but was rather shaky and uncertain as to foot 
 ing, and I left him there. You know we all step 
 high for a day or so after shipboard. May I bring 
 him up for a moment ? " 
 
 He was gone as he spoke, and back again, pre 
 senting Percival with an effiusiveness at which the 
 young man colored like a girl. Mrs. LeBaron met 
 him with quiet, friendly ease, but Ballantyne, who 
 was watching them all with a curious eagerness, as if 
 it were an intermediate scene in a play, to lead up to 
 something impossible to guess, saw that her eyes 
 rested on him with pity as well as interest, and that 
 Morris noted it, and looked resentfully at her. 
 
 u The Philistine still battles with the child of 
 light," he said, half aside. " You cleave to Boston 
 so closely, my friend, that you will never give me 
 opportunity to show you the likable side of her rival." 
 
 " I know no rival," she answered, lightly. " We 
 are of one order, and your chosen place of another. 
 Rivalry does not rise between absolutely alien ele 
 ments." 
 
 " I would defeat your position if we had two more 
 minutes," Morris said, gayly. " Come, Tom, we 
 have barely time." 
 
 u If you were nearer, I should say, come to me 
 
BALLANTYNE 
 
 199 
 
 when you want to talk over your impressions," Mrs. 
 LeBaron said, as she looked earnestly at young Perci- 
 val, who, in turn, had met her eyes, as if he wished 
 that better knowledge were possible. Then, in the 
 deluge of words, he was hurried away, and Mrs. 
 LeBaron, who looked after them with a clouded 
 face, turned cordially to Ballantyne. 
 
 u I was thinking of you to-day," she said. " Now 
 and then sudden temptations come to try this wide 
 sea, and what may wait on the other side, but I do 
 not need to now that you have come to me. How 
 is it that you are alone ? I thought that when you 
 did come, your mother would be with you. Is it 
 so? " she added gently, as a look in Ballantyne s face 
 answered her. 
 
 " I am bringing her with me," he said. " I am 
 on my way now to Nantucket." 
 
 " Not at once ? " 
 
 " To-morrow, unless some reason for delay arises." 
 
 " You will stay here with me to-night, will you 
 not ? " she asked, after a little silence in which she 
 looked at him with friendly eyes, " unless, indeed, 
 you may prefer the hotel, which I hope you will 
 not." 
 
 " Here, by all means, if I may," Ballantyne 
 answered, with a sense of rest and comfort long 
 unknown. 
 
 Reserved and calm as she seemed in manner, her 
 eyes held deep sympathy, and in her voice, rich and 
 full in tone, was also a gentle, benignant quality, 
 
200 BALLANTYNE 
 
 that moved him like music. It was impossible to 
 think of her as a stranger, and she, in turn, looked 
 at him with an interest seldom so deeply roused. 
 
 " Simon can be sent over for whatever you re 
 quire," she said j and Ballantyne wrote the necessary 
 order, and gave it to the discreet and grizzled Afri 
 can who had answered the bell. 
 
 " You will have to be contented with a mere box 
 of a room for the night," she said, " which, of course, 
 I ought to have told you beforehand. Now you have 
 no choice. You know that, as one of my various 
 means of living, I have with me three of the young 
 fellows my husband trained. They are all on the 
 paper, and the sister of one of them also ; but they are 
 a little erratic in the matter of time, as newspaper 
 folk must be, though tolerably certain to be here 
 punctually at dinner. This is the old house, and to 
 keep it at all, that seemed to be the most practical 
 method. Simon and his wife leave me very little 
 real responsibility." 
 
 "Then it is possible I shall see some genuine 
 Americans," he said. " I had begun to believe the 
 race was dying out." 
 
 " Not in this house, thank God ! No, nor in many 
 another you shall know," said Mrs. LeBaron, with 
 fervor. "I protest perpetually against the present 
 craze for everything English. Why can we not take 
 your best and ignore the rest ? I want all that litera 
 ture and art can give, but your Philistinism seems to 
 me a more offensive type even than ours." 
 
BALLANTYNE 201 
 
 " I object to your pronouns," Ballantyne said, with 
 a smile ; u I have come home and refused to be 
 classed under the head c British or Philistine/ Do 
 you disown me ? " 
 
 " Hardly. A recruit on my side who at the same 
 time may serve as model of the howling swell 
 some of my young people adore, is something 
 unexampled." 
 
 What am I to do ? What do I do ? " said 
 Ballantyne, laughing, but with some irritation. 
 " How am I different ? Tell me, that I may 
 change it." 
 
 u You cannot. You have come up in an 
 atmosphere of leisure. Do you ever hurry ? Can 
 you conceive yourself eating a lunch in five minutes, 
 or rushing to catch a car and save a minute and a 
 half? You sit still, whereas the American cannot. 
 There is repose about you. No, you have simply 
 returned to the original type, for, after all, we are 
 English too, of purer blood, if Freeman tells the 
 truth, than most of those who stayed behind." 
 
 " But this does not tell me how to change." 
 
 " No, nor will it. I want no change. It is the 
 spirit that is the real thing, and we can let dif 
 ferences drop. Do you hear that rush ? Thank 
 Heaven, there is one young fellow left who whistles 
 without any conviction of glaring impropriety 
 whistles like a lark." 
 
 " Evidently you are a sort of elegant Bohemian," 
 Ballantyne said, as she looked expectantly toward the 
 
202 BALLANTYNE 
 
 door. A curly black head was thrust in for a mo 
 ment, and dancing black eyes carried the tune the 
 lips had dropped. 
 
 " Pardon," he said, " I can t help it when I see 
 the old house. It s heaven after that pandemonium 
 over there on Washington Street. Jack and I are 
 here, and Julian is on the way with Margaret. You 
 will have us all to-night." 
 
 He turned without having seen Ballantyne, who 
 sat in the shadow, and in a moment other voices 
 sounded in the hall. 
 
 " This is the bright hour of the day," Mrs. Le- 
 Baron said. " I could hardly live my life without 
 these young people. You will not mind, John ? 
 We shall have the evening to ourselves." 
 
 " On the contrary," he said, " I shall enjoy it all; " 
 and then as she left him sat resting till roused by the 
 sound of an instrument of some sort the one clear, 
 high note of which seemed to melt in a thousand sil 
 very shades, and die away so slowly that the waves 
 still vibrated as he rose to seek their source. 
 
 " It is as ravishing as the verger s howl in the 
 Baptistery at Pisa," he said, meeting Mrs. LeBaron at 
 the door ; cc Americans bring home everything, they 
 say. Have you a bit of the echo ? " 
 
 "Something better, since it does not depend on 
 the life of that particular verger. It is the gift of 
 a Burmese missionary ; a gong used at the sacred 
 shrines, though to call it gong is opprobrious. See ; 
 it is a crescent of many metals, silver the chief, but 
 
BALLANTYNE 203 
 
 all blended in curious layers, the secret of the priests. 
 The sound whispers on, long after you think it ended." 
 
 She had brought the crescent, and as Ballantyne 
 looked at it with curiosity, the group entered, and, 
 when introductions were over, went down to the 
 dining-room. 
 
 A slight constraint ruled for a little, but as Mrs. 
 LeBaron chatted on it soon melted away, and eager 
 talk began. Margaret Howard, who sat next him, 
 was simply a blond copy of her dark and vivacious 
 brother Ralph, and chatted and laughed to the silent 
 but appreciative content of her neighbor Brownson, a 
 pale and critical-looking young fellow with the ex 
 pression which Ballantyne later came to know tech 
 nically as " the Harvard look." 
 
 His companion, Ashton, was neutral, whity-brown 
 seeming to be the tint of eyes, hair, clothes, and com 
 plexion ; but now and then a keenly penetrating look 
 fell upon one or another speaker : and Ballantyne, 
 who found it at intervals meeting his own, settled that 
 the balance of power for the four was really here. 
 
 They lingered over the coffee till eight chimed 
 from some bell tower not far away, separating then 
 for the evening engagements, and Ballantyne followed 
 Mrs. LeBaron into the study, and fell at once into 
 the story her questions prompted. They talked long, 
 but not till they had separated for the night did it 
 occur to him that in all their discussion of old plans 
 no word had been said of Morris and the u Brother 
 hood of the New Day." He would ask her in the 
 
204 BALLANTYNE 
 
 morning what she really knew of him, and what his 
 motives and standing were ; and if he had misinter 
 preted him, learn to do him justice ; and he fell 
 asleep with a vision of young Percival s face, which 
 melted into Marion s, losing itself in the mocking, 
 restless eyes of Morris. 
 
Chapter Third 
 
 BALLANTYNE slept heavily, and found 
 to his surprise, on descending next morn 
 ing, that his hostess had gone in an early 
 train to Plymouth, called there by the 
 sudden illness of a sister. He had barely time to 
 catch his own train, but Simons had ordered a cab, and 
 gave him a note from his cousin, in which she begged 
 him to keep her aware of his movements, and come 
 to her on his return to Boston. 
 
 For the first hour, Ballantyne studied the country, 
 then gave himself to the work of drawing some fel 
 low-passenger into conversation, a proceeding received 
 with that mixture of suspicion and reserve which 
 is often the characteristic of the travelling Ameri 
 can at home. In England, he reflected, with puzzled 
 pondering over differences, strangers fell into easy 
 and ready talk ; while here, on his own ground, he 
 was eyed with profound question as to his motives in 
 speaking at all. 
 
 In course of time, an elderly man in a white cravat 
 asked him as to the State of religion in his district, 
 deciding that only interest in men s souls could war 
 rant his attempts ; and while a youth in the rear 
 
206 BALLANTYNE 
 
 chuckled at Ballantyne s surprise, a neighbor changed 
 places and made a prolonged examination of all three. 
 The result was favorable to Ballantyne, with whom 
 he soon fell into confidential talk as to the mortgage 
 on his son-in-law s farm, and the general condition 
 of real estate on the Cape ; nor did it end till the 
 dock was reached and he had seen this most unusually 
 interested listener go on board the Nantucket boat. 
 
 September twilight was settling down as Ballan 
 tyne stepped ashore, to be at once captured by the 
 only representative of the only hotel open. With 
 the first keen winds the summer boarder had van 
 ished, and the island was its natural self till June 
 came again. He wandered about the old town in 
 the moonlight, puzzled like all strangers as to why 
 the houses turned their backs upon the sea, and try 
 ing to remember which had been his grandfather s. 
 But the great kitchen and black Amy frying dough 
 nuts were his only vivid impressions of this, for he 
 had been on . the island but once in his childhood, 
 and that just before they sailed on that last and most 
 disastrous voyage. 
 
 With morning and clear sunshine he made his way 
 to the gravedigger s, the house having been pointed 
 out to him at the hotel, whose proprietor watched 
 him till out of sight with much wonder as to his 
 errand. He found a silent and inscrutable-looking 
 old man, who eyed him suspiciously as if he were 
 a probable pirate seeking aid to bury stolen treasure, 
 but who thawed into sudden facility of speech as he 
 heard his name. 
 
BALLANTYNE 207 
 
 " I want to know ! You don t say ! Pretty Laury 
 Prince come home ag in to be buried. Well, well. 
 You must come in an talk it over with Azuby ; 
 that s my wife. She set great store by Laury. 
 You won t come in ? Well, I 11 go on, then." 
 
 Azuba s rheumatism and the decay of the town 
 filled the way till the graveyard was reached and he 
 had measured off the space, and made a few strokes 
 at a stone too large for his spade to manage. 
 
 "This here bowlder," he said, as he leaned back 
 against the rough granite ; " do you know now, this 
 bowlder took every hoss in town to get it up ? 
 Might a been one o the Pyramids for the fuss it 
 was ; an* now it s here, t ain t nothin but a bowlder, 
 with John Ballantyne cut big, an * Philip Ballan- 
 tyne, his son, cut little. There s room for more of 
 ye. Take that bowlder now as it stands, an* three 
 generations of Ballantynes might be on it besides 
 the two that is, but ain t under it. I hain t never 
 heerd exactly whether you got the corpse or not. 
 If you did, you d ought have brought him along, 
 too, as well s your ma. Folks seemed to think 
 t was n t jest the thing for him to be in one place 
 an the stun in another ; but there ! I suppose may 
 be over there t ain t looked at the same way. Now, 
 me, I couldn t rest easy off Nantuck. You don t 
 feel that way ? " 
 
 " I have not lived here all my life, you know," Bal 
 lantyne answered. 
 
 " Well, there ain t a place to beat it," the old man 
 
208 BALLANTYNE 
 
 went on, with a final blow that sent the troublesome 
 stone rolling down the hill. " I know, for I ve 
 sailed all seas, and seen all colors of skin. Be you 
 goin to have anythin said when it comes time to 
 fill up ? There s a woman minister that some of 
 em fancies, but for the most part I d ruther hev 
 Quakers an no fuss onless the Sperrit moves em, an 
 mostly it ain t very apt to. You can t be no ways 
 certain what way the Sperrit will take." 
 
 The old man rambled on as he dug, till his head 
 was lost to view, emerging at intervals to make some 
 statement demanding special attention, and at last 
 pointed back to his own house. 
 
 " You re kind o beat out, seems to me," he said. 
 "Why don t you go down there a spell an rest? 
 Tell Azuby who you be, an you can talk things 
 over. Never seems fair for her not to know things 
 soon as me." 
 
 Ballantyne shook his head. 
 
 " You need n t be afraid there ain t time before 
 the coffin can git here. Hiram s a master hand to 
 poke, an his father s another. Hiram 11 hev to 
 drag him out o the cap n s room anyhow. They re 
 a shifless lot in there, if I do say it, loafin all day an 
 tellin stories, an more lies wove in each time they 
 tell em. Why, Cap n Hiram says to me only yis- 
 terday, l Cummings, he says " 
 
 The rest was lost as Cummings gave himself once 
 more to his work, though a sound of muffled narra 
 tive still rose from below, and Ballantyne watched the 
 
BALLANTYNE 209 
 
 slow progress of the horses through the sandy way and 
 up the slight ascent to the graveyard. He shared his 
 mother s deep dislike of funeral ceremonies, but in 
 spite of this felt reproached as Captain Hiram pres 
 ently drew near and looked at him from under his 
 bushy eyebrows. 
 
 " They ve told me who you be," he said. " I 
 knowed your father and your grandfather before him, 
 an you favor them both, but I did n t ever expect 
 I d live to help lay your mother away, an not one of 
 her own townsfolk to do her honor. T ain t the right 
 kind of a way, seems to me." 
 
 u She wished it so," Ballantyne said, gently ; and 
 Captain Hiram, after another look, nodded under- 
 standingly. 
 
 u What a woman wants she wants," he said, " an 
 dead or alive don t make much odds. You can t go 
 ag in the dead, whatever you do to the livin . It 
 always seemed to me it had ought to be the other 
 way, for the livin mind an the dead don t, though 
 t ain t always so, for I could tell you a story " 
 
 " Father ! for the land s sake ! " interrupted young 
 Hiram. " This ain t a wake for you to yarn it 
 twenty-four hours on a stretch. It s a funeral. 
 Won t you be quiet till we get the remains in ? " 
 
 Captain Hiram looked defiantly at his son, his 
 grizzled brows working fiercely, but fell into silence ; 
 and again Ballantyne wished, as he had often done, 
 that death might be simply a vanishing, a melting 
 away, with no miserable detail of outward observ- 
 
 14 
 
210 BALLANTYNE 
 
 ance, or alien hands to mar the thought of the larger 
 life attained. He had turned away to pace up and 
 down among the graves, and now, as the last shovel 
 ful was thrown out, lent a hand as the three men 
 lowered the coffin to its bed and strewed the sprigs 
 of cedar he had gathered from one of the wind-tossed 
 trees. It was over at last. Weary body and troubled 
 spirit were alike at rest, and he was free for such life 
 as might come. Must it still hold only renunciation, 
 or would it shape itself according to his will ? 
 
 Captain Hiram had bared his grizzled head, and 
 muttered some words ending clearly, " in the hope 
 of a sure and certain resurrection." 
 
 " You don t mind," he said, apologetically. " I ve 
 had to say em over many a poor fellow with weights 
 at his heels and head. She won t lie the harder for 
 em. You was a good son, I know by the look of 
 ye, an it comes to each of us turn about to bury, an 
 then be buried. Now I want you to come home 
 with me an take a bite. My wife knew her an* 
 your father best of all, an she 11 want a talk. You 
 don t mind, do ye ? " 
 
 Ballantyne had drawn a deep breath, in which a 
 burden seemed to roll away. For the moment he 
 felt guilty, as if unfaithful to a lifelong trust. 
 
 " At least now she understands, and can pardon," 
 he thought, and turned to the old captain, who 
 waited expectant and uncertain. 
 
 " No, indeed, I shall be very glad to go," he said, 
 and went his way with him. 
 
BALLANTYNE 
 
 This was Ballantyne s real introduction to Nan- 
 tucket. Captain Hiram led him from house to 
 house, introduced him to the sacred precincts of the 
 " captain s room," and he found at all points, not 
 only welcome, but the full flavor of a life unique 
 even yet, and with every sharp characteristic still 
 untouched by the modern march. The old houses, 
 hermetically sealed to the casual visitor, opened their 
 widest to this son of names still honored. Not 
 Guernsey or Sark itself had sharper individuality; 
 and Ballantyne settled into contented acceptance of 
 all that came, delighting and amazing them by his 
 familiarity with local traditions and history and his 
 love of all that the old island represented. 
 
 So a fortnight passed, and then he chanced one 
 afternoon upon a son of the island back for a passing 
 look at the old homestead, and off again in a day or 
 two on his duty as factory inspector. 
 
 u If you want to see what New England has really 
 come to," he said, after a shrewd look from his gray 
 eyes had been followed by a few leading questions 
 and an evident summing up of conclusions, " you d 
 better come with me. You 11 find New Ireland 
 uppermost, and a considerable touch of New France 
 in the shape of French Canadians. Able-bodied New 
 England has dumped itself into the West, and if the 
 labor men tell the truth, some of them wouldn t 
 mind trying home soil again." 
 
 " I have heard that more than once," Ballantyne 
 replied. 
 
212 BALLANTYNE 
 
 " Then you heard the truth. They d be back 
 here too, I believe, if interest on mortgages did n t 
 swallow up profits so, they ve nothing left to come 
 home with. Hear the bonanza farm men talk and 
 you d think there was n t a poor man possible, West 
 or East. You 11 see plenty of them as you go. If 
 you want the inside of things, you must look up the 
 Labor Bureau men. They ve got heads most of 
 them, and are not afraid to use them. Size up 
 Massachusetts and you ve got the run of New 
 England, though we re a little ahead on factory 
 legislation. But it takes a sharper lookout than you 
 might think to get ahead of the dodges. What do 
 you say ? " 
 
 " That is just such a chance as I want," Ballantyne 
 replied, heartily. 
 
 " You 11 have to rough it considerable. I suppose 
 you re ready for that ? They 11 take you for an 
 other of those prying Englishmen you run into, 
 poking round everywhere to see what we Yankees 
 are at, and how we re at it." 
 
 Ballantyne could have wished for a trifle more 
 silent travelling companion, but there was no other 
 objection. Buckley s comments were a mingling of 
 shrewdness and worldly wisdom, with great good- 
 heartedness. He had moments of strong indignation 
 for any glaring injustice on either side, and, in the 
 weeks of travel that followed, and the daily talks with 
 operatives of every grade as well as with manufac 
 turers themselves, Ballantyne gained much curious 
 
BALLANTYNE 213 
 
 knowledge of factory and farm life and the irrecon 
 cilable conflict between them. 
 
 To the owners it was always certain that he repre 
 sented English capital seeking investment, a supposed 
 desire, met sometimes jealously, but as often cordially. 
 The perennial astonishment, as he avowed his nation 
 ality, had ceased to torment him as in the beginning, 
 and he began to feel that he understood Massachu 
 setts, a trifle daunted as he reflected on the number 
 of stars in the United States flag, and the necessi 
 ties involved if each one were dealt with in like 
 fashion. 
 
 At intervals he had written to Mrs. LeBaron, who 
 had begged him to come to her for Thanksgiving, 
 compromising at last on Plymouth and the old house 
 which still kept its colonial state, though occupied 
 only by the two maiden sisters, who represented all 
 that was left of the family once overflowing every 
 room in the homestead. 
 
 To be quite sure that as much of the ancient 
 character of the day was given as might be, Mrs. 
 LeBaron went down with Simon a day or two before 
 hand, and her young people followed her at the 
 appointed time. Here Ballantyne renewed acquaint 
 ance ; ate his first pumpkin pie, dubiously at first but 
 with final acceptance, and studied the house, from 
 oak-beamed parlor to attic rafter. 
 
 Ashton had met him with unexpected cordiality, 
 and as, after dinner, they took the prescribed walk to 
 Plymouth Rock, told him that the paper had decided 
 
2i 4 BALLANTYNE 
 
 to send him to St. Louis and one or two other West 
 ern points for a look at the labor difficulties, and that 
 this might be an opportunity, if he inclined, for 
 another phase of his investigation. 
 
 " Kansas mortgages are part of it also," he said, 
 " and you will find St. Louis a desirable addition to 
 your labelled specimens, a much more distinctive one 
 than Omaha." 
 
 u My fancy of both is Indian trading-posts," Bal- 
 lantyne answered, with a laugh, "but I happen to 
 know better. I have had a philosophical quarterly 
 from St. Louis, and I know the earliest and best work 
 in manual training, so far as we are concerned, was 
 begun there." 
 
 "That is the German element," Ashton replied, 
 promptly. " Yankees have had very little time thus 
 far for metaphysics, since the days of the theological 
 rows here in New England ; but German thought 
 there is strong and seems to have drawn in and in 
 corporated all the studious element. You will find 
 it rich pasturage. I may have to take a run down to 
 New Orleans. Shall you like that also ? " 
 
 " In every way," Ballantyne answered heartily, 
 putting out his hand to Ashton, who grasped it with 
 a sudden flush of pleasure. 
 
 " We newspaper men," he said, " skitter over the 
 surface of things like water flies, but we come to 
 know how to go deeper at times. The deep water 
 I shall leave to you, and I am not quite disinterested, 
 for your eyes, I fancy, will see some things to which 
 
BALLANTYNE 215 
 
 mine are custom-sealed. You will be invaluable, for 
 we live always to find a new point of view." 
 
 u When it is all over, remember that Boston has 
 not yet been put in your scales," said Mrs. LeBaron, 
 when she had listened, well pleased, to the new plan. 
 " Really you should have taken it first, though, after 
 all, Nantucket was an excellent beginning. Now 
 tell me the end of it all. When you have weighed 
 and measured and sifted, where is the cake to be 
 baked and eaten ? In Boston, I hope, and some 
 where near me." 
 
 They had lingered over the fire in the great Frank 
 lin stove, with its monumental urn and polished 
 brasses, the young men having gone up in the even 
 ing train with Margaret, who also could not take full 
 holiday ; and the ancient sisters, accustomed to the 
 earliest of hours, had yielded easily to their cousin s 
 suggestion, and, with many cautions as to fire, trotted 
 away to bed. Ballantyne had stretched himself in a 
 deep lounging-chair, his hands clasped above his head, 
 and the firelight playing on his serious face and deep 
 eyes. 
 
 " Who knows ? " he said, half abstractedly, turning 
 slightly more toward her, and noting, again the under 
 lying sadness of eyes, and the lines of pain about the 
 mouth. Hers had been an ideal marriage, his mother 
 had said. There had been no children, and the closest 
 of unions had been closer every year. Yet bravest 
 patience marked her life, he knew, and spoke loudest 
 in all she left unsaid ; and he looked at her with fresh 
 
2i6 BALLANTYNE 
 
 admiration, and the sympathy that could not yet be 
 spoken. 
 
 " If I am not too curious," she said, after a little 
 silence, in which she had watched his falling back 
 into thought, " tell me what is to determine it." 
 
 " There is always the one answer to a crucial 
 question, I suppose," he answered slowly, after a 
 moment in which he had hesitated, "a woman s 
 word." 
 
 u Then it will take you home again," she said, re 
 gretfully. " Why could you not have waited to try 
 what charm might lie in our American girls ? " 
 
 Again he hesitated, but the instinct toward con 
 fidence was strong. At least she knew what love 
 meant, and had proved it. She might even help. 
 
 " If you will not mind a long story," he said, and 
 now he sat upright and faced her, " I think I would 
 like to tell you the whole." 
 
 " You are very good. Nothing could make me 
 happier than such willingness," she said quietly, and 
 he told her ; at first with stumbling and difficulty, so 
 long had silence been the law for all personal experi 
 ence ; at last with deepest relief, as her intent listen 
 ing drew him on. 
 
 u It is strange that I have not thought of it before, 
 but you must know her," he said. " You Cape and 
 Nantucket people seem bound so closely together. 
 Her father was Gardiner Lacy." 
 
 " Is it possible ! " said Mrs. LeBaron, in deep sur 
 prise. " I know her, yes, but only of late years, for 
 
BALLANTYNE 217 
 
 her father was almost a hermit. I knew, too, of her 
 turning her back upon all interests here, to the con 
 sternation of her aunt. By the way, you crossed 
 with her ; the Barstow party, you know. That is 
 the Aunt Theodosia with whom she lived after her 
 father s death." 
 
 " Then that is the look for which I could not ac 
 count on the oldest daughter s face," Ballantyne said, 
 surprised, and fell into silence from which he pres 
 ently roused. 
 
 "I am beginning to understand better how her 
 mind may have worked," he said ; " but I shall not 
 know certainly, till more is done." 
 
 " Shall you tell her so ? " 
 
 u Not yet. I am pledged to say nothing more till 
 the year ends. I shall not even write her, though to 
 promise this would have been impossible if I had not 
 known that my old friend, and her new one, Miss 
 Ryde, would keep me aware of her life, for they are 
 much together. How will it be ? You who know 
 life so well, tell me what you think. Will she be 
 obstinate ? " 
 
 " It is obstinate blood," Mrs. LeBaron said, " and 
 she has a theory which, in Nantucket hands, carries 
 strange compulsion. But if she loves you, and you 
 tell me she admits it, time may do what you cannot. 
 Let her quite alone, dear boy." 
 
 The words came involuntarily as she met his wist 
 ful look. 
 
 u There is but one message for you and for me," 
 
ai8 BALLANTYNE 
 
 she said after a moment, u and that is the word that 
 holds the sternest command human hearts can hear or 
 seek in patience to obey, wait." 
 
 She had risen as she spoke, and her eyes as they 
 rested on the young man s troubled face were full 
 of sudden longing. He put out his hand, and for 
 a moment she held it close; then bent and gently 
 kissed his forehead. 
 
 " There was no son for me," she said, " but your 
 father s child could hardly fail to seem like one. 
 Good night. I am glad you have told me. We 
 will wait together, I for the end, and you for the 
 beginning." 
 
Chapter Fourth 
 
 MARCH winds were blowing when John 
 Ballantyne again saw Boston. The 
 Western journey had prolonged it 
 self and might have gone on indefi 
 nitely, for the letters which Ashton had sent back 
 were of so marked a character and excited such 
 general interest and attention, that the editor-in-chief 
 soon saw reason to count it as one of the most suc 
 cessful ventures since the early days of the paper and 
 its popularity. 
 
 Ashton alone, though his ability ranked high, might 
 not have brought such result, but he had rightly di 
 vined that with Ballantyne s eyes added, the result 
 was likely to be an unexpected coup. Again and 
 again, as he revised his own version in the light of 
 facts or theories his companion brought to bear, he 
 said : 
 
 "See here, Ballantyne; this is your work, not 
 mine. Write your own letter. I regard this as a 
 piece of cheating. If you won t let me own up 
 now, I shall when I am back again. You are a 
 born correspondent. Why don t you take to it ? " 
 
 " Because I am, at present, moonlight to your 
 
220 BALLANTYNE 
 
 sunlight," Ballantyne said, with a laugh, "does not 
 prove I shall not by and by go into permanent 
 eclipse. Just now as I see things, I happen to fit 
 the scheme of your paper, but if I veered a little, 
 where should I be ? No ; I am afraid that jour 
 nalism, unless I own all the stock, is not for me." 
 
 "I cannot understand you," said Ashton, throwing 
 himself back in his chair. They were in a Kansas 
 village, a city on the map which hung in the bar 
 room of the wretched little hotel where they had 
 been storm-stayed, and where both had taken the 
 opportunity to fill out their notes. 
 
 During the long journey they had become excellent 
 friends, Ashton s quiet, judicial habit of mind being 
 balanced by a somewhat saturnine humor, which 
 became lighter in quality as acquaintance grew into 
 real friendliness and even intimacy. Ashton was a 
 Cornell graduate, and thus, as he said, lacked the 
 fine, pate-de-foie-gras flavor which distinguished Har 
 vard, but he was a far more thorough student than 
 either Howard or Bronson, and the keenest of ob 
 servers. Mugwump himself, his paper, though claim 
 ing catholic liberality, was violently Republican, and 
 thus he had been forced to omit or qualify some 
 phases of his record, gnashing his teeth at the ne 
 cessity. Ballantyne s opinion weighed with him more 
 and more, and he looked at him now seriously as if 
 he would force some explanation of his methods of 
 thought. 
 
 Ballantyne had looked up as he spoke, and waited 
 
BALLANTYNE 221 
 
 for more. The active life had agreed with him, and 
 he seemed younger and far less careworn than when 
 the rough journey began. 
 
 u If you don t make a book," Ashton went on, 
 " and if you will and can use them, I turn over 
 my note-books with enthusiasm. What gain is 
 there in the sort of winter you have spent ? There 
 must be an aim, for you are the last man to work 
 without one." 
 
 "Then you do not find a general understanding 
 aim enough ? " 
 
 " Yes, if you mean to go into politics or journalism. 
 Otherwise, what earthly difference does it make to 
 you how many small farmers are being killed out by 
 the bonanza farms, or how many grinding brokers 
 are fattening on Western mortgages ? It s poor 
 stuffing for such pillows as yours. This is n t the 
 season to travel for picturesqueness ; and if it were, 
 you are at present on the wrong ground. Was there 
 ever anything more infernally hideous than the wooden 
 boxes that line this wretched street ? No wonder the 
 Western men are the despair of the world, when 
 Washington wants a decent statue or picture." 
 
 " Yet every now and then we have found a good 
 building, or some stray token of waking perception." 
 
 " Of course, else it would not be American. But 
 this is a digression. What I want to know is, why 
 foreigners, like yourself, do not content themselves 
 with trying the big cities one after another. There 
 is where you get the real summary of the people." 
 
222 BALLANTYNE 
 
 " For the business side of things, yes." 
 
 " And for any real living. The vegetation in 
 these villages does n t count. Conceive of a winter 
 in this hole on a prairie." 
 
 " Better here than in a slum." 
 
 "I am not sure. At least the slum is nearer 
 living, and the dweller therein can emerge into some 
 thing positive. But cease any more wandering round 
 Robin Hood s barn, and leave generalities for to 
 morrow s letter. If you do not want public life, and 
 refuse the vent that literature affords, even in its low 
 est phase of journalism, you will simply get fat and 
 plethoric with miscellaneous information, of no use 
 to anybody. That is purely British, to hug your 
 self and your facts together, and build a high wall 
 about both." 
 
 Ballantyne laughed. " British " was the term of 
 utmost opprobrium Ashton could use, but it had 
 ceased to trouble him. 
 
 " When the facts are all in," he said, " we will 
 plan, perhaps, what I had better do with them. They 
 have their own use." 
 
 " Inscrutable foreigner," Ashton returned, " I do 
 not doubt it, but my mission as reporter remains 
 unfulfilled till I can define what. I warn you that 
 I am on the lookout ; " and he turned to his work 
 again with a twinkle as Ballantyne made no response. 
 
 "A book, of course," he said to himself; "and it 
 will be a stinger. I have never met his match for 
 going to the bottom of things. That quiet way of 
 
BALLANTYNE 
 
 his never seems to hinder his getting whatever he 
 wants." 
 
 Ballantyne, as he read on, had stifled a sigh. At 
 moments he had utterly lost courage, as he faced the 
 conditions that confronted him, and found in what 
 manner he must sum them up. But he was resolutely 
 bent on persistent observation ; and though he re 
 membered Nantucket with longing, and thought often 
 of the old house in Louisburg Square, he had no in 
 tention of hastening even by a day the task set them 
 both. 
 
 St. Louis had been a break in the general desola 
 tion, and had given them its best. He found there, 
 however, that the German element would be the one 
 to turn to for genuine companionship, their simple 
 living having taken on little of the reckless, flam 
 boyant character that too often distinguished the pros 
 perous American. 
 
 " The scholar has, as yet, no place on American 
 soil," he recalled as the verdict of an Englishman 
 who looked with friendliest eyes on the life about 
 him, and he had begun to echo him, but with no 
 outward word of agreement. To judge finally was 
 rank folly till more sheaves were gathered for the 
 thrashing. More and more he had followed Ashton s 
 injunction, " Don t take yourself too seriously. That 
 is where your only grave loss comes in," he had 
 added, as Ballantyne looked questioningly at him. 
 " On your side of the sea, well, on their side, 
 then, there is a kind of heavy gathering together, 
 
224 BALLANTYNE 
 
 as of so many stones to be broken for roadway. You 
 have lost the touch and go of a genuine American. 
 Humor enough in you, but Philistinism has been too 
 much for you. Take surfaces more. The deeps 
 crop up of themselves." 
 
 "The fact is," Ballantyne replied, "you write me 
 down as a ponderous prig." 
 
 " My dear fellow ! " Ashton returned, genuinely 
 shocked, " all I mean is, that you seem to be making 
 a matter of life and death out of what really is only 
 a scamper, a mere scamper, after some general in 
 formation." 
 
 A sudden change of expression in Ballantyne s 
 face, a flash gone as soon as perceived ; but Ashton 
 had caught it, and turned away, with inward wonder 
 as to what might be involved ; nor did it lessen as the 
 days went on. So the West yielded such quota as 
 time allowed, and at last they faced East again, with 
 Boston as the end of the journey ; and Ashton, as 
 they left the station, stretched his arms to the gilded 
 dome of the State House, as if he would embrace it 
 and all Boston at once. 
 
 " Heaven be praised for its substantiality ! " he 
 said. "We have dealt with clapboards and paper 
 sidings, till I had forgotten that the permanent could 
 be. It s a great country." 
 
 " If you would be content with anything so anti- 
 modern as Pinckney Street," Mrs. LeBaron said, 
 after their first greetings were over ; " the people 
 who took Marion s house have signified that they 
 
BALLANTYNE 225 
 
 will give you the second floor. There have been 
 some reverses, and they want to get just the right 
 kind of lodger. Then, if you find nothing better, 
 you can come here for meals, for it is hardly a 
 stone s throw away, and in that way I shall have 
 something of you, unless, indeed, you are off again at 
 once." 
 
 " No, I have come home for refreshment, and the 
 rest must wait a little," Ballantyne answered, look 
 ing about with full conviction that here was, thus 
 far, the one spot that best deserved the name of 
 home. 
 
 " Can these rooms be had at once ? " he asked. 
 
 " This hour, if you like." 
 
 " Then I will see that instant possession is taken," 
 he said, with inward delight that he was thus to have 
 some part in life that had been Marion s ; and within 
 an hour he had fulfilled his word, and till dinner 
 busied himself with a more thorough unpacking than 
 he had known since his arrival. Here should be 
 headquarters for all further stay, and he fancied 
 Marion s amazement if she could look in upon his 
 appropriation of what, he was told, had been her 
 own room and her father s. 
 
 " We took it just as it stood," said the severe and 
 rigid matron, who showed the rooms. " They 
 packed up books and light things I did n t want to 
 be responsible for, but they left all the rest just as 
 old Lawyer Gardiner had it from the beginning. 
 It s all solid mahogany and rosewood, the whole 
 
126 BALLANTYNE 
 
 house, and they say Mr. Lacy never altered a thing. 
 I m not one to change myself, but if you feel to 
 move things round, of course you can." 
 
 u I want no change," Ballantyne said, u it satis 
 fies me as it is ; " and the relieved look on Mrs. 
 Cutter s face showed what apprehension had been in 
 her mind. He sat quietly for. a few minutes when 
 she had gone down, looking at one and another ar 
 ticle and fancying the little Marion as she moved 
 among them. She would know that he was here, for 
 his letters to Miss Ryde were minute in detail, though 
 in none of them had he allowed discouragement or 
 weariness to come uppermost. To feel either on 
 such ground as this was an insult to all that made it 
 sacred. Here, at least, real life would be found ; and 
 he went round to dinner with a look of something 
 very near happiness in his face. 
 
 Mischief was in Miss Howard s eyes as she watched 
 his surprised reception of the little pile of notes that 
 had accumulated on Mrs. LeBaron s table, and her 
 own eyes danced as she handed them to him. 
 
 " Strictly private seance at Nabula Hall. The 
 distinguished Christian Scientist, Dr. Alonzo Twitch- 
 ell, requests, etc. Slight contribution to further the 
 mission of the Mothers anti-Military Association. 
 Browning Tea at Miss Octavia Bostwick s, and 
 dinners galore," she said, seriously. " As an old Bos- 
 tonian and an old more or less newspaper woman, by 
 proxy at least, I know these writings and what awaits 
 you." 
 
BALLANTYNE 227 
 
 " But how has any one known the time of my 
 appearing ? and why do they ask me ? " 
 
 " Pure divination. The end of one craze draweth 
 near. Boston feels this, but knows also that if one 
 is exhausted another evolves as by magic. Not once 
 since the days of Anne Hutchinson and her after 
 noon readings and expoundings to colonial dames in 
 search of excitement has life failed to offer an op 
 portunity. The mere mention of your name was 
 enough. Don t look at me in that way. Mrs. Bar- 
 stow is responsible. She has besieged me for a month 
 to know the date of your return." 
 
 "That sets the seal, you know," said Ashton. 
 " Not that you needed it, but what she sanctions 
 cannot be questioned ; and even when the first fervor 
 is over, you are let down easily into a permanent 
 niche as it were." 
 
 " I hope your predecessor realizes this, and will not 
 take his displacement too hard," said Brownson, with 
 a cynical smile. 
 
 " We will wait to see how efficiently or otherwise 
 I fill the required role" Ballantyne answered, his look 
 of annoyance giving way to amusement. " Tell me 
 his, and I may be better able to live up to the present 
 expectation." 
 
 Simon had struck the Burmese gong, and he paused, 
 as they all did, to listen with delight to the sweet, 
 slow, dying fall of the pure note, lingering on* the 
 stairs for the last vibrations. 
 
 " It would calm the maddest Republican of the 
 
BALLANTYNE 
 
 whole mad brood to-day," said Ashton. "I have 
 just come from a report of their doings." 
 
 " Consider them soothed into silence," said Mar 
 garet Howard, promptly. I want to tell Mr. Bal- 
 lantyne about his predecessor. He is a New-Yorker, 
 which is the miraculous thing about it, for Boston 
 usually prefers even Kalamazoo. Perhaps his having 
 been born abroad is regarded as atonement. He is a 
 young sculptor, or sculptor to be, for I believe his 
 talent is only potential as yet. He is handsome as a 
 Greek god, and irresistible as one of Ouida s guards 
 men. His voice is divine. That and his beauty have 
 captured every maiden in the town, from our most an 
 cient and honorable, an enthusiast of eighty-five, down 
 to the present narrator and victim of his charms." 
 
 " He s a conceited cad," struck in Brownson, with 
 unusual fire, and a dark look at Margaret. 
 
 " I beg your pardon. I have studied him, and he 
 is nothing of the sort," she returned, promptly. He 
 is accustomed to adoration, and so takes it in rather 
 large doses, but still with perfect calmness. His 
 reading is delicious, idyllic, Elysian. Pan and his 
 pipes are nowhere." 
 
 Hear, hear ! " cried Ralph, who had grinned 
 wickedly, as Ashton looked inquiringly at him. 
 " They all go on that way, Brownson. I have been 
 in daily expectation of seeing a procession, with 
 wreaths of parsley and bay and banners and silver 
 trumpets, escorting him to the dome of the State 
 House and crowning him before all Boston." 
 
BALLANTYNE 229 
 
 cc And he would submit with that indolent, gracious 
 sweetness, and just a suspicion of scorn below," said 
 Margaret. 
 
 " Scorn ! " repeated Mrs. LeBaron ; " what can 
 you mean, child ? Well-disguised but omnivorous 
 greediness I call it. Till he stops reading poetry to 
 an army of crazy women, and goes to work, I have 
 no faith in him. You see what you have to live up 
 to, John." 
 
 " Now Heaven forbid ! " Ballantyne said, with 
 genuine consternation. " I retire to the desert. The 
 thought of even appearing in public with such com 
 parison hanging over one is benumbing. I devote 
 myself to Louisburg Square. Beyond that I will not 
 be dragged, unless perhaps to a Browning tea. That 
 has a mysterious sound. What does one do ? " 
 
 " We go in character," said Ralph Howard. 
 " Red cotton nightcaps, etc. Learn our lines, and 
 play up to them. Sordello, for example, and trivi 
 alities of that nature, that fit in between the cups of 
 tea and macaroons. I recommend that for your con 
 sideration. What Boston demands, you see, is the 
 incomprehensible. She understands nothing less. 
 She will have it, and we must admit she gets it. I 
 regard this winter as the culminating triumph of the 
 uttered unutterable, the possed impossible, the scruted 
 inscrutable." 
 
 " You are a profane trifler," said Ashton, " and 
 incapable of reverence for anything that is or is to 
 be." 
 
230 BALLANTYNE 
 
 "Wait," said Ralph, with a look toward Ballan- 
 tyne, which missed its mark, for Mrs. LeBaron had 
 asked a question that opened up a discussion as to 
 differences between East and West, prolonged after 
 they had left the table, and laid aside for resumption 
 when they separated. 
 
 Within a fortnight the prophecy had fulfilled itself, 
 and Ballantyne found himself the fashion. A dinner 
 at Mrs. Barstow s was the prelude, and, notwith 
 standing a certain inward irritation as he thought 
 of her, it proved enjoyable and interesting, the six 
 well-chosen guests all combining to make it so. Tom 
 Barstow, so English that he had even mastered the 
 monocle and its stony glare, and perfected his languid 
 tolerance of life in general, to its extremest expression 
 of bored endurance, devoted himself, if so strong a 
 word might be permitted, as a summary of his action. 
 A little surprised at Ballantyne s pronounced indiffer 
 ence, he held it as another evidence of good form 
 and the possibilities of attainment for any Bostoner 
 sufficiently well born and sufficiently equipped with 
 what even Boston adds as the necessary setting 
 for birth, a fortune large enough to adorn it at 
 will. 
 
 " Bonnets ten deep around him," Margaret Howard 
 reported in private to Mrs. LeBaron, on her return 
 from the Browning tea. " Young Norton and his 
 voice are permanently in the background. Poor 
 Norton ! " 
 
 " He was a boy, and this is a man," Mrs. LeBaron 
 
BALLANTYNE 231 
 
 answered. " You will not spoil John, whatever you 
 do." 
 
 " Don t be too certain," Margaret said ; u though 
 they shall not if I can help it. I think, however, that 
 he needs taking down. He has a certain superb way 
 with him as the bonnets kotow, as if homage did not 
 come amiss." 
 
 Certainly in this quiet corner, which he saw far 
 less than he wished, there was little fear that he 
 would suffer for lack of criticism. He had fallen 
 into thorough intimacy with the group, and Margaret 
 and especially Ashton let no opportunity slip for jeer 
 ing at the present enthusiasm and the downfall to 
 come. Brownson joined them, but with more re 
 serve, fearful always that Margaret, who slighted 
 him perversely, would be genuinely entangled in the 
 meshes of this universal net. The discipline was not 
 bad for him. The prize he sought proved even better 
 worth winning than his first leaning toward it had in 
 dicated, and he was fast becoming what Ralph had 
 sworn he was too lost in himself ever to be, an 
 ardent and determined lover, yet more and more dis 
 trustful of his worthiness to win. 
 
 Ballantyne in the meantime was making his own 
 inward election. He heard a vast amount of brilliant 
 and sparkling talk. The most charming of London 
 drawing-rooms could hardly offer a range more varied 
 or more skilfully handled. A certain rigidity, an 
 unsmiling, almost solemn performance of necessary 
 forms, he found the characteristic of many, and he 
 
B ALLANTYNE 
 
 missed a quiet simplicity of speech and manner that 
 belongs to the best type of Englishwoman. But the 
 keen humor which delighted him, coming out from 
 the most unexpected ground, was absolutely Ameri 
 can, and the one refreshing element in seas of 
 Philistinism. 
 
 For Philistinism was rampant, from the Cambridge 
 professor with his solemn mannerisms, down through 
 the whole warp and woof of the society which he 
 adorned. Now and then Ballantyne encountered 
 a simple, direct, natural soul, and caught eagerly 
 at such chance of refreshment ; but for the most 
 part they were stray members of the general scheme, 
 and fled from it in dismay as its real nature dawned 
 upon them. An artist or two, serenely holding to 
 ideals ; here and there a literary man who went his 
 own way unmoved by any traditions as to what 
 Boston expected of him, these meant the real life, 
 untouched by caprices and fads and sudden crazes. 
 
 Each and all of these came freely to the quiet 
 drawing-room in the old square, a little distrustful 
 at first of this latest Boston epidemic, but accepting 
 him shortly on his own merits, and in turn telling 
 him of one and another whom it would mean 
 something to know. These were real people, and 
 life with such would be possible and full of meaning. 
 If Marion had known them, she might have come to 
 different conclusions; yet what a small percentage 
 they represented, what an infinitesimal leaven for this 
 mass that weighed upon and oppressed him ! 
 
BALLANTYNE 233 
 
 " I had to weed and sift when Dunbar died, and 
 the need of earning arose," Mrs. LeBaron had told 
 him, after a little summary of what he was likely to 
 meet in her house. " Before that I drifted, and 
 went about a good deal, though I entertained much 
 more at home. Dunbar s interests were so wide, 
 that I think the best of everything gravitated nat 
 urally to him. Now I am grateful for all that 
 remains." 
 
 May had half ended. A hint of summer came 
 now and then in the air. Already Ballantyne had 
 had invitations innumerable for seashore and mountain 
 and the sacred recesses of Berkshire hills, and had 
 waived them all with the reply that his plans were 
 altogether uncertain. New York must be seen before 
 the summer exodus began, but he thought reluctantly 
 of the necessity for change. He had lately met a shy 
 Harvard professor, refusing any general society, and 
 absorbed in his psychological studies, a man of child 
 like simplicity yet deepest wisdom, intercourse with 
 whom was a delight, and who seemed in turn no less 
 attracted. Whatever New York had to offer could 
 not weigh against the certainties opening here ; but 
 he was pledged by his letter to certain society claims 
 which must be met, and he had not forgotten his 
 half-unwilling promise to Percival. 
 
 "The tail of the comet has not dwindled; its 
 splendor is still as dazzling," Ashton said at dinner 
 the day on which Ballantyne had said to himself that 
 for a time all this must end. u But I warned you 
 
234 BALLANTYNE 
 
 fairly, and already there are dim indications of another 
 to come." 
 
 " Impossible ! " Mrs. LeBaron said, in mock 
 dismay. 
 
 " Only a spark, as it were ; an English spark, for 
 they have lost relish for the American order. A 
 young Percival they say, in the ethical line, it appears, 
 and crying like a young John in the desert for a reform 
 of everything. Beautiful as Del Sarto s St. John, 
 they say, and unworldly as an infant of days." 
 
 " Is he here or on the way ? " asked Ballantyne, in 
 some wonder. 
 
 "To come. He was here last month, it seems, 
 with a man who has had his run in Boston also, 
 a great linguist and up in Greek art. He has been 
 giving some lectures at a small college not far away, 
 and this Percival bowled the town over, I am told, 
 with something of his own, Tendencies of English 
 Society, or something of that nature. A Boston 
 prophet heard him, and has brought back the tidings, 
 and now there is conference as to getting hold of him 
 next fall. The king is dead ! Long live the king ! 
 You know him ? " as something in Ballantyne s 
 look struck him. 
 
 " A little, yes. We crossed together. I congrat 
 ulate Boston on its discernment," he said, with a 
 smile; and Ashton, obeying the momentary glance 
 from Mrs. LeBaron, turned the talk in another 
 direction. 
 
 u Shall you give up your rooms ? " she asked, as 
 
BALLANTYNE 235 
 
 Ballantyne lingered for a little before leaving her to 
 a bit of work which had compelled the renouncing 
 of their evening together. 
 
 " Not I. This is home," he said, with quick 
 decision. A look of thorough relief was on her face, 
 but there was no time for the explanation he had 
 more than once meant to ask. Evidently the thought 
 connected with Morris troubled her; but as she had 
 not spoken, perhaps she preferred silence, and he still 
 delayed question, uncertain how to interpret it. 
 
 Letters from Percival within a day or two waxed 
 impatient. 
 
 cc You are pledged to us for a season, you know," 
 he said. " I shall be at the Fall River dock for you 
 on Friday morning unless you wire otherwise." 
 
 Ballantyne took the letter in to Mrs. LeBaron. 
 " The summons has come," he said. u After all I 
 am somewhat curious. I should like to understand 
 the man." 
 
 A singular look crossed Mrs. LeBaron s face. 
 
 "There are several things to learn," she said. 
 " When you are back again, we will compare notes." 
 
Chapter Fifth 
 
 BALLANTYNE, who had returned early 
 in the evening, intending to write letters 
 for the English mail, found Professor 
 Sutton sitting by the table lost in study 
 over a card which he held in his hand. 
 
 " The comet has come again, out of space," he 
 said. "Your pardon, Ballantyne. I came up to 
 leave a book, and this card lying here caught my 
 eye. Where have you met Pendleton Morris ? " 
 
 " On shipboard coming over. Do you know him, 
 Sutton ? " 
 
 " I don t know," the professor replied, hesitatingly. 
 " I know such sides as I am able to comprehend, 
 but there were too many for me. He has profound 
 ability ; yes, more than ability ; profound power, 
 
 but, " He hesitated, then added, "Drop him. I 
 
 do not like to talk of people." 
 
 " Nor I," said Ballantyne, " save as they form ma 
 terial for deduction. Mere gossip is detestable, but 
 this means something you can help me in. I am going 
 to his colony for a time. I want your view of him." 
 The young professor s serene, thoughtful eyes 
 rested on him with sudden trouble. 
 
BALLANTYNE 237 
 
 " Did you were you much attracted to him ? " 
 
 On the contrary. There was no good reason, 
 but I had almost antipathy from the beginning. It 
 was unreasonable, for I found him a fascinating 
 companion, of absolutely marvellous knowledge, but 
 in spite of this distrusted him. You know him. 
 Was I wrong ? What does he mean to you as a 
 man ? " 
 
 Ballantyne had laid deliberate stress on the noun. 
 His own thought wavered from hour to hour, at mo 
 ments certain that his suspicion was fact, at others 
 scoffing at his own, apparently fixed delusion, since 
 dismiss it he could not. Now he fixed his eyes on 
 his visitor s face, and as he saw its utter unsuspicious- 
 ness doubted again. 
 
 " A man" he repeated, with the former emphasis. 
 
 Sutton shook his head. 
 
 " A mixture of mediaeval monk and ancient Greek, 
 with the worst and best characteristics of each, and 
 topped with the utmost possibilities of Scotch dogma 
 tism and Scotch self-esteem." 
 
 So I am told," Ballantyne answered. " I begin 
 to understand better, but there are other points. 
 The old Greeks had some odd theories. Is he the 
 exponent of them all ? " 
 
 " You will see for yourself," Sutton said, hastily. 
 " If you can adjust yourself to the combination, you 
 have the learning of the ages on tap, as it were, 
 and it is the flow of pure water from a real 
 
 source." 
 
238 BALLANTYNE 
 
 " But," began Ballantyne. 
 
 " Use your own eyes, my friend, * the professor 
 said, decisively. "Your prejudice is your present 
 safeguard, and if it melts, why, so much the better. I 
 have profound admiration for Morris s power. For 
 the rest, each must judge for himself. If his mission 
 is true, no man can overthrow it. I wish him well. 
 By the way," he added, " this card has a message. I 
 should have handed it to you at once." 
 
 Ballantyne took it and read pencilled below the 
 name, " I shall call again about ten. J. P. M." He 
 frowned slightly, tossed it into the waste basket, and 
 took up the book his friend had brought, a Report 
 of the Psychical Society, with details of some recent 
 and singular experiments with a trusted medium, and 
 soon both were deep in eager discussion of the points 
 involved. The bell rang unnoted, and both looked 
 up in surprise as the servant announced Morris and 
 Percival, the former entering with the breezy self- 
 confidence that was his usual manner. Percival s 
 eyes beamed with pleasure as he came forward, half 
 shyly. 
 
 " I followed my letter, you see," he said. " We 
 came yesterday for an engagement, and take the mid 
 night train on, for we are both due at some affair to 
 morrow, where Morris is to read Italian poetry. We 
 cannot ask you to do that, I fear." 
 
 " You are not to read Italian poetry, I am sure," 
 Ballantyne said, with a sudden impulse. u Stay over, 
 and I will go with you on Monday." 
 
BALLANTYNE 239 
 
 " Agreed," Percival said, heartily ; " unless Morris 
 counts me recreant. I am under orders." 
 
 " Not I," the latter replied, whirling round from 
 his profuse handshaking with the professor, whose 
 eyes were on him interestedly. " This is Thursday. 
 You can get quite the flavor of Boston in four days, 
 but don t let it spoil the New York cup. Ha ! At 
 the old mystery, I see," he went on, his quick eye 
 noting the open Report on the table. " Does Har 
 vard intend to permit dabbling in the occult ? " 
 
 " Call it by the right name, and she permits any 
 thing," Professor Sutton said, significantly. " This 
 is one phase. I am at another. We are in the midst 
 just now, the two or three of us who have been fol 
 lowing up this thing, of a very queer case, a match 
 for Lys, with his sub sub-consciousness," and he went 
 on with a detailed account of the circumstances. 
 
 " It is actual demonstration," he added. " There 
 can be no doubt of this third consciousness, and there 
 may be another." 
 
 u In layers like an onion," Morris said, laughing. 
 " Peel and peel on the way to the heart, and sud 
 denly there is a hole, and the layers are over, and the 
 heart is not, but the excitement keeps up to the last 
 instant and the final revelation of nothing." 
 
 " That is your personal interpretation," the pro 
 fessor said, quietly. " Undoubtedly it fits one type. 
 Man is a complex creature, and the new science shows 
 him even more so than the wisest have believed." 
 
 " If self-hypnotization were practicable," Morris 
 
2 4 o BALLANTYNE 
 
 said, still laughing, but uneasily, " I should proceed 
 at once to it. In the end I might come to understand 
 my own composition. On the whole, I think I be 
 lieve in the hole-in-the-middle theory." 
 
 " You have some reason," Professor Sutton an 
 swered, with a smile, but his eyes rested attentively 
 on Morris s face, as he talked on more and more 
 eagerly, till aroused to the consciousness that he had 
 barely time for his train. 
 
 " Don t come alone, Tom," he said, throwing his 
 arm about Percival for a moment, with the impulsive 
 affectionateness Ballantyne had noted on shipboard, 
 and with a tumultuous shaking of hands he vanished 
 into the night. 
 
 Ballantyne in the morning sent a note to Mrs. 
 Barstow, where he was engaged to dine, asking if he 
 might bring Percival, and received delighted consent, 
 and cards for this rising sun, who, quite unconscious 
 of any glory to come, had settled into Mrs. LeBaron s 
 cosiest corner, his eyes resting on her with purest 
 pleasure as they fell at once into eager talk. Work 
 waited meantime, and she dismissed them reluctantly, 
 a little aggrieved that the evening was promised, and 
 claiming Saturday at least as her own. Ballantyne 
 seconded her strenuously. 
 
 " A taste, a mere sip, is all you are to have of Bos 
 ton now," he said -, " but it is as fatal as your soldi for 
 the Fountain of Trevi. You will return in spite of 
 yourself, and Boston is as certain as Rome." 
 
 He smiled as he spoke, for Ashton, as he passed 
 
BALLANTYNE 241 
 
 through, had lingered long enough to say, ostensibly 
 to Mrs. LeBaron, but with a wicked look at her 
 companions : 
 
 " The king abdicates and presents his own suc 
 cessor to-night, I hear. That s an artful dodge, and 
 lets him retire with colors still flying. The king 
 never dies." 
 
 The dinner ended in a crowded evening and an 
 assured sensation, and Mrs. Barstow was serenely 
 radiant. It was a joy she owed to Ballantvne, whose 
 star as yet showed no signs of paling, and she was 
 more than grateful. Percival was a trifle shy, but 
 most charmingly simple and unconscious ; and his 
 beautiful head, though lower by several inches than 
 Ballantyne s towering one, lost little in comparison. 
 The evening was practically an ovation to both, the 
 unexpected appearance of this new light, whose ad 
 vent had only been whispered, exciting curiosity to 
 the highest. Percival at last, a trifle impatient, had 
 suggested their going, and moved toward the door 
 where Mrs. Barstow was standing. There was a 
 sudden stir ; a pause of expectation which seemed to 
 fall on all about, and in the instant before talk went 
 on again they were aware of a figure tall as Ballan 
 tyne s own, and a head, as Ashton had affirmed, like 
 a young Greek god, the owner of which, looking 
 about serenely as if certain of his kingdom, advanced 
 slowly with a word here and there. Then his eyes 
 fell upon Percival, and he put out his hand with a 
 look of pleasure. 
 
 16 
 
242 BALLANTYNE 
 
 " How is this ? " he said. " I did not expect to 
 see you in Boston." 
 
 u Mr. Ballantyne is responsible," Percival said, 
 presenting them, and for a few moments the three 
 men made a group on which all eyes rested. Bal- 
 lantyne s ears were phenomenally acute, and as they 
 chatted, words came to him in a tone lowered but 
 perfectly distinct. 
 
 " This is a great go ; the three Graces on exhibi 
 tion together." 
 
 " You are mistaken. It is Past, Present, and 
 Future," a high-pitched voice responded. Ballantyne 
 laughed outright as the speaker, who had met his smil 
 ing eyes, colored furiously, and then, obeying Perci- 
 val s hand on his arm, made his way toward Mrs. 
 Barstow, from whom they escaped with difficulty. 
 Norton had preceded them, and she met him with 
 effusion, from which he turned to follow the pair he 
 had just left. 
 
 " I shall see you next week," he said to Percival. 
 " Mind that you do not find any excuse for taking 
 yourself away. It is you I am coming to, you know." 
 
 " Then you have consented ? That is very good," 
 Percival said, in a surprised tone. 
 
 " Yes, for a day or two," Norton replied, and 
 turned back. 
 
 " It is another case of love at first sight," Percival 
 said, with a little trouble in his voice. " He came to 
 hear some of the lectures, and Morris, who has an 
 even stronger passion for beauty than I supposed, 
 
BALLANTYNE 
 
 became enamored on the spot. He is certainly glori 
 ously handsome ; beautiful, for that is a better word 
 than any mere handsome you know, and Morris so 
 besieged him that after a time he consented, and is to 
 stay some weeks, I think, unless plans change." 
 Ballantyne laughed again. 
 
 u It is a most extraordinary combination, * he said; 
 and then, without explaining, went on, " Now, tell me 
 how the evening sums up." 
 
 u Too much honey," said Percival. It is un 
 natural diet, and leaves a bad taste in the mouth. 
 Morris says it exhilarates him like champagne, 
 though he knows well it is only mead and bubble. 
 Me it depresses, and wine, oddly enough, has the 
 same effect. This is all very strange to me. I was 
 told Boston was critical to a degree. It does n t 
 look like it." 
 
 " This is the beginning," Ballantyne said. " For 
 final judgment you will have to wait. This time I 
 reserve you chiefly for the LeBaron household. 
 There is no disappointment there." 
 
 " No, there could not be. What a grand woman 
 she is," Percival said, eagerly. " I have seen no one 
 like her. New York has a different type. They are 
 charming, I find, a great many of them, and swift of 
 speech, but different. Your Miss Howard might 
 grow to be a little like her." 
 
 " There is a look of such possibility," Ballantyne 
 answered, " and her quality is fine. You have quick 
 eyes, Percival." 
 
244 B A L L A N TYNE 
 
 " Too quick, perhaps," he said. " Morris will have 
 it that I should have none, so far as women are con 
 cerned, till I am thirty or more, but I am disposed 
 to use them as I go." 
 
 " The better way for most of us," Ballantyne 
 answered, curious but determined to make no other 
 comment, and the talk drifted on lightly till they 
 parted for the night. 
 
 For himself, he sat late finishing a long letter to 
 Miss Ryde, in which he gave her the history of the 
 last fortnight in Boston. He paused for a while, and 
 took from his pocket the last that he had received 
 from her, reading over and over a paragraph or two 
 at the close. 
 
 " Hetherington, to whom, you know, Eleanor had 
 long ago been assigned, but whose indifferent tem 
 perament never got beyond friendship, is developing a 
 most unexpected fervor. Whether it is natural growth 
 that is responsible I do not yet decide, for no one 
 knows what mysterious strata in a boy s make-up 
 may suddenly come uppermost. I notice, though, 
 that in such cases the strata are always of the ear 
 liest period known, and thus naturally to be labelled 
 1 Amor. So it is now, and Beresford may be said to 
 have begun it, since his frantic adoration of Marion is 
 a source of perennial jibing and jeering from the set 
 who have listened to his anti-matrimonial tirades. He 
 would marry her if he could, I honestly believe, for 
 he has offered himself in private, in public, in diverse 
 and sundry places and manners ; has appealed to me, 
 
BALLANTYNE 245 
 
 and is in the depths of infatuation. For all this, 
 Marion goes her way untouched and untouchable. 
 
 " As for Hetherington, he is no less mad, but it is a 
 silent lunacy. He is desperately in earnest, and I 
 know she is sorry for him ; but no discipline could 
 be better for the young cub, who has never till now 
 shown real affection for any one but yourself. As to 
 Marion, whatever the end may be, she has thought 
 for no one but you, and thus far I think she is certain 
 that you will return to stay. How is it, John ? Eight 
 months are gone. You must have some inkling of 
 the final summary. This is not a question, however. 
 It is merely natural longing to answer myself as I 
 would, yet do not believe I ever shall. Naturally I 
 draw my own conclusions from the array of facts your 
 letters present, but they daunt one no more than facts 
 everywhere. I read without comment to Marion, and 
 she listens in the same way, and each understands the 
 silence of the other. Were no thought of you upper 
 most, she would be absolutely contented with life as it 
 offers itself. It is plain that to wait is the verb we 
 must all conjugate at present, and I confess to more 
 and more impatience as the days go on. Be good as 
 you have been and write me often." 
 
 " Good, dear soul," Ballantyne thought, as he 
 folded the letter, wrote the last words of his own, and 
 then paced up and down silently, thinking thoughts 
 that for any possible fulfilment must bide their time. 
 
 " It seems ungracious to regret Boston when New 
 York has so much that one can care for," Percival 
 
246 B A L L A N T Y N E 
 
 said, as they sat on the deck of the Fall River boat 
 on Monday night. " But I am finding it hard to 
 leave. The Philistine is there, but the city has a 
 different atmosphere." 
 
 " How can it help it ? " Ballantyne said. u If you 
 believe in the transmission of general as well as par 
 ticular characteristics, you would think with me that 
 the type of men who founded it, and the lives of 
 their noblest successors, are ingrained in the substance 
 of the very ground itself on which one walks. New 
 York from the beginning was a trading-post, Boston 
 a spiritual centre, and each is true to the original 
 spirit, though I am bound to admit the Puritan was 
 at least thrifty." 
 
 " No disrespect to the Dutch," said Percival, with 
 a laugh. " You will never find a better Puritan than 
 John of Barneveld and his order. Without them the 
 Pilgrims would have fared badly." 
 
 " Granted, but the scholarly element stayed at 
 home, while before the tree-stumps were brown 
 in her fields the Plymouth colony had founded 
 Harvard. But I am going with an open mind to 
 this New World Maelstrom, though I confess to 
 distinct desire to make Boston headquarters for my 
 American life." 
 
 u Then you do not propose to renounce England 
 altogether ? " 
 
 " Altogether as fixed home, but never as dear and 
 familiar ground, to which I must often return. No 
 American, I am sure, can dispense with the influences 
 
BALLANTYNE 24? 
 
 at work there, and each can help the other to larger 
 thought and more efficient work." 
 
 " There is materialism to be fought in both," Per- 
 cival said. " I do not know how it seems to you, 
 but on this side I find such an amazing quality of 
 recklessness about it all ; a kind of mad scramble in 
 pleasure as well as in the mere money getting. One 
 is swamped at once, and loses sight of real aims 
 almost unconsciously. I am glad that I go into it 
 occasionally only, and that the real life i-s away from 
 it all. You will see." 
 
 He smiled, but said no more. A tacit agreement 
 seemed to have been made that all discussion of 
 methods or ideas should be waived till Ballantyne 
 had seen and judged for himself, and the talk passed 
 to other topics. 
 
 " If money is king, dirt is prime minister," Ballan 
 tyne said next morning, as they made their disgusted 
 way through mud and garbage and all the accompani 
 ments of streets fouler than any civilized city has to 
 show, Waring and purification being still of the future. 
 " It is simply inconceivable that such a state of things 
 is allowed." 
 
 "Nothing is inconceivable in such directions, I 
 find," said Percival. "You submit here easily to 
 impositions that no British mind would tolerate a 
 moment. This is no worse than usual; perhaps even 
 better." 
 
 Ballantyne fell into astonished silence, examining 
 docks, pavements, ash-barrels, packing-boxes, and the 
 
248 BALLANTYNE 
 
 other claimants for sidewalk space, following Percival 
 as he hurried through one or two errands, and then 
 again made his way toward the Jersey ferry. 
 
 " Eminently nasty, and now we are free of it till 
 next time," the latter said, with a long breath. " The 
 river is the sole compensation till you get to our hill ; 
 only nine hundred feet, to be sure, but high enough 
 and steep enough to let us roll stones down on our 
 enemies if they come too near. To get there is a 
 slow piece of work, for you must first take a cable 
 road, and quite a walk lies beyond. All this you see 
 is in the nature of moat and drawbridge, and cuts us 
 off from miscellaneous society. As it is, we get more 
 than is desirable." 
 
 " It should be very good to compensate for such 
 approach," Ballantyne said, eying the dingy houses, 
 the saloons on every corner, the slouching men, the 
 unkempt women, and dirty children at every turn, 
 and the car floor filled with market-baskets, the 
 property of fat German women on their way from 
 Washington Market. 
 
 " Bad, is n t it ? " Percival said, with a grimace. 
 "But something odd is always happening, and one 
 gets queer side-lights on things in just such talk as 
 this." 
 
 " But it is not American. It is German and 
 Chinese." 
 
 "That is American, as you find it on a Jersey 
 ferry-boat or a suburban car." 
 
 Ballantyne laughed, and said no more till they had 
 
BALLANTYNE 249 
 
 left the car and walked for some distance. A sharp 
 turn and houses were behind them, and they had 
 before them gently rising ground, the heights beyond, 
 and the tender green of freshest spring in leaf and 
 bud. The change was magical, and Ballantyne, 
 always depressed by squalor, felt his spirits rising. 
 
 " Purgatory is behind," said Percival. " When 
 you see it again, you will look down on it in the 
 mass, but escape all the unsavory detail. The rest 
 of the way is peace." 
 
Chapter Sixth 
 
 THE New Yorker, driven by high rents 
 into Jersey suburbs, passes through the 
 terrors of West Street, and the no less 
 aggressive squalor and sordidness of the 
 opposite shore, to such village as he has chosen for 
 what remains of his twenty-four hours, with small 
 thought of what lies beyond the beaten track on each 
 side of the rival railroads that parcel out the old State. 
 Back of the Palisades are quaint villages, not always 
 beyond adventurous picnickers, but some, at least, 
 seldom reached ; and beyond them and the stretch of 
 heights lie the great marshes, with the smell of the 
 sea, and the sweep of free wind, and a coloring 
 changing with the changing seasons. 
 
 Once known, the artist whose eyes have rested on 
 them needs Holland no longer, but finds to his hand 
 tints of sky and cloud, and shifting lights and shadows 
 on waving reeds and grass, that no man s palette, labor 
 as he may, can ever render in full. Here and there 
 one in the vanished generations of early settlers had 
 found what hint of home lay across the river, and 
 built for himself and his heirs the hip-roofed, wide- 
 spreading Dutch houses, set deep in orchards and nut- 
 
BALLANTYNE 251 
 
 trees, with wealth of meadow for pasture, and rich 
 corn land rolling away on either side. 
 
 Such a nook, perverted later from its original inten 
 tion, Morris had found, and the perversion made it 
 but the better for his purpose. A stray speculator, 
 of tendencies too aesthetic for his own good, had, in 
 one of his tours of discovery, come upon the house, 
 and settled within himself that here might prosper 
 a quiet and exclusive summer hotel, chiefly on the 
 cottage plan. The old offices at the back of the 
 dwelling, built for the slaves and used later for general 
 farm laborers, were in fair preservation, and could 
 easily be restored for all kitchen and baser uses. The 
 heirs had preferred Newport and Saratoga for their 
 summer fields, and had no taste for the seclusion 
 involved in such life as could be had nearer home, 
 and thus bargaining was easy. 
 
 The delighted purchaser ran up a number of 
 summer cottages as adjuncts to his prospective hotel, 
 and proceeded to advertise its claims, nor did he lose 
 courage till three successive seasons of failure to 
 secure more than a dozen people convinced him that 
 his scheme must lapse. For the ordinary business 
 man it was too inaccessible ; for the rich, the 
 approaches were too uncomfortable and depressing. 
 And at last the houses stood empty, or knew only an 
 occasional and discontented tenant, till the day when 
 Morris, deeply disgusted with what he called u the 
 rampant civilization of the Oranges," chanced upon 
 it, and knew it for his own. 
 
252 
 
 BALLANTYNE 
 
 All this was told at length with the enthusiastic 
 flow of words inseparable from any thought of 
 Morris, and Ballantyne confessed that nothing could 
 well be better. In the old mansion itself, its discov 
 erer jubilantly declared, not a modern convenience 
 remained, since his first care had been to do away 
 with every pipe and plug, and allow nothing more 
 modern than the hydraulic ram that gave them their 
 supply of water. 
 
 u He would have preferred Etruscan jars or a yoke 
 with pails," Percival said ; " but luckily the feminine 
 element knew better." 
 
 " You mean they had none of them fit sinew for a 
 business that their betters never scorned," returned 
 Morris. " Think on those Capri women ; tall and 
 lithe, and the great jars poised on their heads, losing 
 never a drop as they climb the stairs. Chop up your 
 sewing-machines and set your girls water-bearing, 
 and you will get a different type from the slab-sided 
 scrawnies America turns out." 
 
 " Talk it over with Miss Byers," Percival said. 
 " That s her department, not yours ; " and with an 
 other volley of words Morris retreated to his study 
 and shut the door. 
 
 A week had passed since their arrival, and with 
 every hour Ballantyne s interest had grown. In the 
 main house was the housekeeper, Miss Byers, a quiet 
 Quaker of modified tendencies, in whose gentle black 
 eyes were now and then glints of a humor that bore 
 evidence to comprehension, in some degree at least, 
 
BALLANTYNE 253 
 
 of the new and often astounding elements about her. 
 With her had come a stout and comfortable colored 
 cook, with the genius of her race for savory prepara 
 tion of food, and with full willingness to allow the ex 
 periments in the Italian dishes demanded by Morris. 
 Both were supplemented by the unbounded and vocif 
 erous good will of German Marie, whose English 
 was of her own arrangement, and who preferred 
 German wherever it could be used. Even such 
 service was a concession on the part of Morris, who 
 looked forward to a time when, save for the cook, 
 whose necessity he admitted, all work should be done 
 by the members of the household. 
 
 Ballantyne observed, as days went on, that what 
 ever theory might be, in his own case no finger was 
 lifted to give them outlet in practice. In his own 
 way, however, Morris was an indefatigable worker. 
 His library in all tongues, and of several thousand 
 volumes, chosen for contents and not for covers, 
 as he took pains to announce, overflowed the 
 great room he used as study, and lined one side 
 also of his bedroom walls, the low-studded room 
 above. 
 
 Percival s opened from his through a passage with 
 doors at each end, which could at will shut them off 
 completely. On the opposite side of the broad hall, 
 with its half doors at each end, was the general sit 
 ting-room, at present rather bare and unattractive. 
 Regnault and young Pierson, a lad of eighteen in 
 Morris s charge, had the rooms above, and the re- 
 
254 BALLANTYNE 
 
 mainder were given over to Miss Byers and an 
 invalid sister who was never seen. 
 
 This for the main house. The cottages, Ballan- 
 tyne soon found, had a life no less marked, but for the 
 most part distinct from their own. In the central 
 one the steady beat of a steam-engine had seemed to 
 imply manufacturing of some order, till Percival ex 
 plained that one of the colony, a Dr. Prescott, had 
 come to them from California, bringing his theories 
 with him, and not only theories, but patients enough 
 to fill four of the cottages. In the central one, re 
 served for himself, he had set up his machines, his 
 avowed object being to exercise the internal body by 
 reversion and the external by percussion. Stand a 
 patient on his or her head, as nearly and for as long 
 as the case admitted, and naturally the internal or 
 gans found new arrangements, and must of necessity 
 develop certain new tendencies and capacities. 
 
 This was the first process, and having accomplished 
 this, the percussors, driven by steam at a rate of from 
 one to three hundred strokes a minute, naturally 
 brought about reaction and balanced matters. Si 
 lence so many hours a day, diet elaborately simple 
 and adapted to each individual case, and, last, the in 
 corporation of the Jaeger system at its fullest, made 
 a bill so attractive, that a series of invalids, weary of 
 water cure and even Christian Science and its varia 
 tions, had flocked to him and remained. 
 
 There could be no doubt that the amazing pictur- 
 esqueness of the new prophet himself had much to 
 
\ 
 BALLANTYNE 255 
 
 do with the brilliancy of his successes. A Western 
 wildness, as of the Plains moderately modified, hung 
 about him, accented by his flowing hair and beard of 
 richest russet, and eyes but a shade darker, the soft 
 browns and creams of his Jaeger garments creating 
 the u nocturne in brown," which Percival had named 
 him. His voice was a low, soft drawl, half Southern, 
 half Western, in its inflections, and another element 
 of his charm. 
 
 Power was unquestionably there, of its own sort, 
 and absolute fascination for his patients, who were, 
 to Ballantyne s surprise, chiefly men, with a sprink 
 ling of elderly maidens. A brother, a lesser dupli 
 cate of himself and a medical student, acted as 
 assistant, and besides housekeeper, he had a corps 
 of nurses and attendants for special cases. He and 
 his immediate family had meals in the main house, 
 the order of treatment obliging most of his patients 
 to eat alone. 
 
 It was at once evident to Ballantyne that Prescott 
 was, quite unconsciously to Percival, profoundly jeal 
 ous both of him and of Regnault, while the latter, in 
 turn, looked with dark suspicion on every other can 
 didate for Morris s favor. Life was, however, so 
 arranged that little opportunity remained for indul 
 gence in these sentiments. A class in New York to 
 which he went three times a week, on alternate 
 days, with Morris and Percival, had been arranged for 
 him at once by Morris, whose influence seemed able 
 to bring about what he would, and between times he 
 
256 BALLANTYNE 
 
 had as occupation a translation into French of a vol 
 ume of essays by an obscure but powerful thinker, 
 whose thought had struck Morris and suggested the 
 task. 
 
 What he willed, Regnault did. His fiery blue eyes 
 softened as they rested on his master. " Man Mai- 
 tre; cher Mditre" he called him always, and flew to 
 his arms as they met in the morning, with a fervor 
 that never failed. They chatted together in his own 
 tongue, and so far as he was able Regnault absorbed 
 him with a passion which carried always in itself the 
 seeds of its destruction. 
 
 Nothing but Percival s gentle good will and unself 
 ishness prevented daily explosions. They had nearly 
 come at moments, for Regnault looked with fury on 
 any familiarity on the part of Dr. Prescott, but thus 
 far had been easily shamed and silenced. 
 
 From the beginning there had been no jealousy 
 of Ballantyne. Whether he divined that infatuation 
 from this source was not to be dreaded, he did not 
 say, but he turned to him with an impulse of con 
 fidence, and had at once given his opinion of Dr. 
 Prescott, with the r rolled to a degree of ferocity 
 next door to malediction. The look that came at 
 times as he watched the lithe and sinuous healer was 
 so nearly murderous, that Miss Byers eyed her carv 
 ing-knife timorously, and furtively slid it under the 
 edge of the platter, Marie, who shared his antipathy, 
 in the meantime nodding approvingly. 
 
 The cottages focussed all interest on the party in 
 
BALLANTYNE 257 
 
 the main house. Regnault gave lessons to the few 
 who were allowed any intellectual effort, and to the 
 maidens who were not, but who could still listen, 
 declaimed De Musset as he had done on shipboard. 
 A gay Western widow, but slightly older, it seemed, 
 than her daughters, flirted indiscriminately wherever 
 an opening occurred; and another of the pensive type, 
 a brown-eyed and gracious little German, studied 
 Greek under Morris s direction, and announced daily 
 at dinner how far she had progressed in " Blaydo," 
 whose " Republic " she had daringly chosen as her 
 battle ground with the language. 
 
 At each meal Morris read an extract from some 
 favorite author, to lift the act, as he said, above mere 
 feeding, and often suggested a reading-stand in the 
 background, and the old monastic fashion of reading 
 through the entire meal. As Ballantyne studied him, he 
 concluded that a certain instinct of self-preservation 
 underlay the proposition, the animal in this curious 
 nature coming uppermost in feeding, so that no gloss 
 of acquired breeding, or his real mental quality, suf 
 ficed to hide the rage that came upon him. The 
 veins in his forehead swelled. The favorite dish, 
 eyed greedily even when his plate had been piled 
 high with it, was sent almost en masse down his throat, 
 and for the first ten minutes of devouring, silence 
 ruled. Then he calmed, looked about, and was 
 ready for talk till dessert and coffee ended possibility 
 of further speech, and he went heavily to the long 
 sleep which he took daily, and which undoubtedly 
 
 17 
 
258 BALLANTYNE 
 
 kept his late hours of severe study from wearing upon 
 him. With waking came the long walk, in which 
 Regnault, in spite of the Frenchman s natural abhor 
 rence of physical exercise, shared when he could, and 
 in which all were urged to join. 
 
 Supper waited their late return, and discussions 
 always arising, and always of a deeply combative 
 nature, transferred themselves to the study, and went 
 on with an energy and vigor inexhaustible as the man 
 himself. Guests of all orders came and went, all 
 thinkers, all in sympathy with some phase of this 
 abounding thought ; and the life, nominally isolated, 
 was filled to the brim with interests. 
 
 Free entrance to one or two popular clubs and an 
 unending list of dinner invitations gave the added 
 flavor of the world from which he had retreated, 
 but to which he went with no less relish than he 
 returned, and now Ballantyne and Percival accom 
 panied him, both eagerly sought, and knowing that 
 June would see the exodus of most of their hosts. 
 
 Into this life, made up of as complex elements as 
 could well have been brought together, came at the 
 appointed time young Norton, whose deep eyes and 
 lazy grace and sweetness made him adored by the 
 entire colony. Ballantyne they worshipped at a dis 
 tance. He was too indifferent, they had decided, 
 too English to really belong to them ; but here was 
 a product more comprehensible, whose praises could 
 never be too loudly sung. Fascinated by the freedom 
 of the life, he fraternized with all in turn, took 
 
BALLANTYNE 259 
 
 up his own tasks, studied with Morris, and read 
 French poetry and drama with Regnault, whose soul 
 was torn by alternate jealousy and adoration ; and so 
 summer came in, and the weeks flew by, return to 
 Boston for any stay seeming less and less probable. 
 
 Ballantyne had spent part of June in the city, study 
 ing New York byways and slums. He had visited 
 also the Socialist clubs and various organizations under 
 their control, finding the members, with here and there 
 an exception, of an order much below the English 
 Socialists ; and, indifferent to further knowledge of 
 them, gave himself to small excursions into the sur 
 rounding towns, returning gladly to the Heights. 
 
 So far as interior feeling went, his judgment of 
 Morris had not altered, but he reproached himself for 
 faithlessness as he saw the man s readiness to share 
 his gifts, and his generous bestowal of time and 
 trouble where any phase of teaching was involved. 
 He seemed willing to give himself impartially to all, 
 often at the cost of his own time and pleasure, and in 
 the species of service which he had adopted for Sun 
 day mornings struck often a note so fine that preju 
 dice vanished, and only the high thought at its best 
 and noblest showed its face. Regnault s violin added 
 its charms, for he played with feeling and spirit, and 
 now Norton s beautiful voice became a part of the 
 hour, and drew tears of sensibility from little Frau 
 Bergmann, whose knowledge of u Blaydo " was in 
 inverse ratio to her application. 
 
 One fact was very noticeable, and now and then 
 
260 BALLANTYNE 
 
 Ballantyne pondered its significance. Morris, whether 
 intentionally or otherwise he could not tell, avoided 
 being alone with him, and their talks were always 
 general ones. If any end were to be accomplished, 
 it was plain that he relied on Percival s influence to 
 bring it about, and till Norton s coming, he bestowed 
 attention impartially on all. 
 
 "There is one objection which I am just beginning 
 to see," said Percival one evening, as he paced up and 
 down the old road in front with Ballantyne. A close 
 friendship had developed between the two, and more 
 and more Percival turned to him for talk on the 
 problems of life and thought that absorbed him. 
 
 " Well," Ballantyne said, looking off to the twink 
 ling lights far below, and baring his forehead to the 
 light breeze that blew from the west, u we can 
 meet it, I suppose ? " 
 
 " I doubt it. Does it ever occur to you that the 
 commonplace has its own distinct uses, and is as 
 necessary as grass in nature, for instance ? Here we 
 are, a colony of sharply defined individualities, brought 
 into closest contact, whereas naturally each would, by 
 itself, have its own family background as cushion for 
 its angles, and its peculiarities would be diffused and 
 dispersed like superfluous electricity." 
 
 " Then you begin to doubt the plan," Ballantyne 
 said. 
 
 " Not I, save at one point. What could possibly 
 hold more stimulus or better chance for real progress 
 in our special fields ? I was only thinking of the 
 
BALLANTYNE 261 
 
 tribe marshalled by Dr. Prescott, and a little weary of 
 the endless fencing that goes on. But Morris never 
 minds. Why should I ? " 
 
 " Morris s appetite for sweet stuff is larger than 
 yours," Ballantyne answered. u A row of adoring 
 women stimulates him to the utmost. He sat among 
 seven this morrring expounding ^Eschylus, and the 
 little Bergmann wept for joy." 
 
 Percival laughed. 
 
 " Morris understands them," he said. " He can t 
 be touched. His susceptibility lies in another direc 
 tion." He hesitated, then went on. " Regnault gets 
 more unmanageable every day. You may have no 
 ticed it." 
 
 " When does Norton leave ? " Ballantyne asked, 
 after a little silence. 
 
 " He does n t leave. That is the difficulty. I 
 have had a passionate scene with Regnault this 
 afternoon, and pitied him thoroughly. He says 
 that Morris is swallowed up by Norton, and 
 I have to admit myself that there is a sort of in 
 fatuation about it. I have never seen Morris so 
 deeply moved." 
 
 " Then he has these sudden passions ? " 
 
 " Perhaps so ; yes," Percival said, reluctantly. 
 "That is, I have been told so." 
 
 " Then you have never observed until now ? " 
 
 " No ; for I only knew him really in Italy. My 
 cousin had recommended him as coach. He had met 
 him in Capri, where he had an old house and all his 
 
262 BALLANTYNE 
 
 books, and I caught at the idea, for I wanted Italian. 
 I had two months with him in Capri, and he was my 
 friend from the first moment. Then we had a winter 
 in Rome, an amazing winter, for he knew everybody 
 and went everywhere ; and then I went home, and he 
 followed and was in London for a few weeks, busy 
 with the society of which I have told you. Then 
 he came over here for a year and more, and at last 
 returned for me. I could not refuse him, and here 
 I am." 
 
 " And that is all you know of him ? " 
 
 " All I need to know, is it not ? I like his way of 
 taking men for what they represent, and asking no 
 questions. A man is always actually what you find 
 him, for he must always be the product of what has 
 gone before. If that be good and efficient, I see 
 no slightest need of question. Then, too, so far as 
 Morris is concerned, he spills out his whole life with 
 entire recklessness. You must have noted that." 
 
 u To you, perhaps. I have never heard him." 
 
 u Then it is because your guard is still up. He 
 says that, warmly as he likes you, you never let him 
 come near. You will never know his best, Ballan- 
 tyne, till you do." 
 
 u Per-cee-val, Per-cee-val ! " Regnault s voice 
 sounded from the piaza, a note of entreaty in it, 
 and he broke away with a hurried 
 
 " Let me see you again to-night, Ballantyne. 
 There is more I want to say. I have something 
 to tell you." 
 
Chapter Seventh 
 
 STILL pacing up and down under the long 
 line of chestnut-trees, Ballantyne looked 
 about at the lighted cottages, the soft gleam 
 from Chinese lanterns hung on piazzas or 
 here and there among the trees, and the friendly sense 
 of companionship in the old house, dark in the shadow, 
 with its one point of brilliant light shining from 
 Morris s study. 
 
 The crashing chords of the Pilgrim Chorus from 
 Tannhauser came from Frau Bergmann s piano, a 
 recent importation, and, to guard all students, only 
 allowed in the evening. It passed into the bridal 
 song in Lohengrin, and as he listened, again his heart 
 was full of longing. 
 
 Incredible as he would have thought it three months 
 before, more than once of late he had said to himself 
 that here was a spot for which Marion might come to 
 care, and as he wrote of it to Miss Ryde he had, 
 half unconsciously to himself, given only its most at 
 tractive aspects. That he still questioned Morris as 
 a man made little difference. There seemed no doubt 
 that his motives were pure, and in any case this life 
 of student and thinker was in itself a filter in which 
 
264 BALLANTYNE 
 
 any temperamental baseness must naturally go to the 
 bottom. 
 
 For himself Boston was his choice, but after all 
 did it not sum up chiefly in the old house in the 
 Square ? It was people rather than places that made 
 real living, and again, as he thought this, he fell into 
 fresh study of the strange elements about him, It 
 was Percival in whom was embodied the best of life 
 here, but Percival s faith in it compelled the taking 
 for granted of the whole. Miss Byers represented 
 something no less to be trusted, her simple integrity 
 and sound judgment being the unseen mainspring of 
 the practical workings of the scheme. Why, then, 
 should it not extend, draw in more and more of like 
 mind, and be in the end what its head claimed it 
 
 must be ? 
 
 This had been his attitude till within a few days, 
 when Morris s increasing oblivion to everything save 
 Norton had opened up a new phase of this perma 
 nent puzzle, and distracted the coterie of worshippers 
 beyond bearing. Frau Bergmann dropped sentiment 
 and wept tears of rage and spite as she carried her 
 plaint from one to another, and Ballantyne, who in 
 his interest had nearly ceased to criticise, found all 
 his old objections once more aroused and vigorous. 
 He smiled as he reflected on certain absurdities of his 
 
 position. 
 
 " To settle down permanently with a Welshman, 
 an Englishman, and a Frenchman is American life 
 from one point of view, but not precisely what I 
 
BALLANTYNE 265 
 
 came for," he thought, and he recalled now the com 
 ment of a New York guest made but yesterday. He 
 had come for a day merely to look on, and had no 
 special interest in the plan or in Morris, a shrewd 
 observer, and a man who had watched the rise and fall 
 of many communities. 
 
 " You seem to have only young men about you," 
 he had said. " Young men and a good many women. 
 Where are the elders ? " 
 
 Morris had colored furiously as he replied : 
 
 " There is no faith in middle-aged blood. Youth 
 alone can meet the coming need." 
 
 The visitor smiled, and as he afterward walked 
 with Ballantyne to the cars, said, with a final look 
 behind him : 
 
 " An extraordinary man, but the real reason he has 
 chiefly boys about him is because only ardent boys 
 swallow such dogmatism without question. I have 
 had my eye on Morris for several years in one place 
 and another, and he will not bear an instant s contra 
 diction. Then, too, his thought is endlessly shifting. 
 Each year has a new passion, though this, I confess, 
 means more and looks more lasting. Do you take 
 stock in it ? " 
 
 " In many ways, yes," Ballantyne answered, feel 
 ing that in his position as nominal guest of Morris 
 he had no right to criticise; and his questioner, with 
 a laugh, said, as he shook hands : 
 
 " Keep such faith as you can, but I shall not find 
 you here next year, I am certain." 
 
266 BALLANTYNE 
 
 Of all this Ballantyne thought as he walked. A 
 certain inertia had come upon him, born in part, it 
 might be, of climate, since July heats had come, and 
 a long drouth in which every green thing scorched 
 and shrivelled. Dust lay thick on the chestnuts, and 
 the gnarled branches of the apple orchard showed 
 gray as olive-trees under the intense, unclouded blue. 
 
 More than once he had decided to break away and 
 seek some cooler spot, and in pity for Regnault had 
 sugggested their going together to Bar Harbor for 
 a week or two. But the latter clung to Morris with 
 a tenacity which the latter had evidently begun to 
 resent, though he still sought to soothe him and pre 
 vent the outbreaks which only Percival had power to 
 quiet. 
 
 A special case had lately absorbed Dr. Prescott, 
 and thus prevented other complications, but a latent 
 sneer in his look came oftener to the surface as he 
 watched the undisguised conflict of stormy feeling in 
 Regnault s face. 
 
 The cottages were filled to overflowing, the later 
 additions chiefly members of Morris s winter classes 
 in town, or drawn there by reports of what might be 
 found, an extraordinary mixture of society people, 
 profoundly puzzled by the elements about them, yet 
 certain that one or two, at least, were as utterly good 
 form as even the Four Hundred could demand. 
 
 Types enough to illustrate any theory chosen were 
 at hand, and each one seemed bent upon impressing 
 itself on Ballantyne, whose calm indifference acted 
 
BALLANTYNE 267 
 
 only as provocative to furthur effort. Absolute in 
 fatuation for Morris summed up the situation for 
 certainly a dozen of the women who sat at his feet, 
 but to this, beyond the daily expounding, he paid 
 small heed, though any diminution would clearly 
 have made itself felt. All his thought for the time 
 being concentrated on Norton, from whom he had 
 extracted a promise to remain, and who yielded 
 reluctantly as if to a power beyond his own control. 
 He had never shared the passion of feeling that 
 moved the older man. It was in this that his power 
 lay, and might even continue to bind long after earlier 
 favorites had been laid on the shelf. 
 
 " It is all unwholesome and abnormal," Ballantyne 
 thought, as he recalled Morris s look of devotion 
 when Norton came near. u Presently there will be 
 spontaneous combustion, and the whole thing vanish 
 in smoke." 
 
 Percival s quick step drew near as he turned, and 
 he saw, as the light from a street lamp fell upon his 
 face, that he was pale and excited. 
 
 " Ballantyne," he said, " I am at the very end of 
 my resources. Regnault has threatened suicide, and 
 while I doubt his actually attempting it, he is in a 
 frightful state. If he were a woman, one might 
 comprehend. He behaves as I suppose wild women 
 do when they are deserted. What can be done ? " 
 
 " Call in Morris himself. It is his business to 
 make explanations or whatever else is needed." 
 
 " If he could j but there are none, Ballantyne, save 
 
268 BALLANTYNE 
 
 in the fact that he has exhausted anything that Reg- 
 nault had for him, and has not even toleration left. 
 That phase of him is all new to me, though I was 
 warned. They said he sucked his oranges and threw 
 away the skins ; but I did not believe it, nor can I 
 fully now, for I find him loyal yet. But Regnault s 
 wits will go. Morris sat by Norton s side, reading 
 with him, and Regnault had placed himself on the 
 piazza where he could watch every movement. He 
 was grinding his teeth with rage and despair when I 
 got to him, and I have put him to bed like a child, 
 and given him bromide to make him sleep. The 
 thing is as bad for Morris as for him." 
 
 "Come away from it all," Ballantyne said, in 
 sudden disgust. " Let us go to Plymouth and Mrs. 
 LeBaron. She is natural and genuine and whole 
 some, and all that this thing is not." 
 
 " Don t be so fierce," said Percival, with a groan. 
 " This is only a midsummer madness. It does not 
 touch the real heart of the thing at all." 
 
 " No, because there is no heart," Ballantyne said, 
 decisively. "There is a brain with a power that can 
 simulate anything for the time being, but for soul, 
 there is simply a mass of passion and emotions, 
 abnormal in action and absolutely destructive of 
 natural wholesome life. Come with me, and we will 
 take this unhappy Regnault, if we can." 
 
 " Why not appeal to Norton ? " Percival said. 
 " He has no real wish to stay, for his friends who 
 back him are impatient at his delay in going abroad. 
 
BALLANTYNE 269 
 
 His fancy is caught and his pride stirred at the wild 
 estimate Morris puts upon him, but I have seen him 
 shrink from his fondling, and he is afraid of the sort 
 of passion that moves him. Morris has been in a 
 rage with him to-day ; the sort of rage he has told 
 me sometimes comes over him, but I had never 
 believed him. He frightened Norton horribly. I 
 doubt if he will stay." 
 
 As he ended they had neared the house, and the 
 sound of Morris s voice came to them suddenly, hoarse 
 with passion. 
 
 " I cannot, and I will not, take things as you do," 
 Norton said, and then came the sound of sudden 
 sobs and Norton s exclamation of shocked amaze 
 ment. " For God s sake be a man, and not the mad 
 mixture you are to-day, Morris ! " 
 
 The light was at that moment extinguished ; Nor 
 ton ran up the stairs to his room, and they heard the 
 key turn in the study door. 
 
 " The end has begun," Ballantyne said. 
 "Whatever it is, I must see it out," Percival 
 answered. "This thing shall not go to pieces be 
 cause temporary aberration sets in. Thunder clears 
 the air, and bright shining may come again." 
 
 He said good night hurriedly as if afraid to trust 
 further words, and soon Ballantyne followed him. 
 
 The atmosphere of the breakfast table next morn 
 ing was so lurid, that Ballantyne, who had slept only 
 troubled sleep, was confirmed in his determination to 
 seek purer air. Regnault s bloodshot eyes were red 
 
270 BALLANTYNE 
 
 with passionate weeping, and Morris showed tokens 
 of a conflict still undecided. Miss Byers looked con 
 siderately away, and Marie, who regarded Dr. Prescott 
 as the source of all evil, eyed him belligerently. Perci- 
 val was pale and exhausted, and Morris avoided his eyes. 
 u An incomprehensible mess," Ballantyne thought, 
 eager to escape ; but as he turned to Morris, meaning 
 to announce his intention of leaving for a week or 
 two at Plymouth, Regnault s hand was on his arm, 
 and he said, low, " I pray you come to me." 
 
 He rose as he spoke and left the room, and Bal 
 lantyne presently followed. 
 
 " See here, my dear fellow," he said, convinced 
 that further sympathy would be only weakening, and 
 dismayed at rinding that Regnault had thrown him 
 self face down upon the bed. "Come to yourself. 
 This is all terrible nonsense. The man is not worth 
 the passion you are spending on him." 
 
 He spoke in French, for in excitement Regnault 
 lost all command of his limited English. Now he 
 sat up and took Ballantyne s hand, with a look of 
 inexpressible wretchedness on his face. 
 
 " Ah, my friend, you know not all. It is not 
 alone that I lose him, though he swore our two souls 
 were as one ; but see, he makes me to lose more. He 
 loves, and for a time one is content, and adores. Mon 
 Dieu ! What power that can make one so adore ! 
 Then I care not for faith, nor anything save to con 
 tent him, and I believe every word all he would 
 have me do. And now, both are gone." 
 
BALLANTYNE 271 
 
 " What both ? " 
 
 u Ah, I am not so to be scorned with my weakness 
 as you think. It is not all for him this grief. It is 
 what I am made to do. Because he will have no 
 marriage ; because he has said that we may wed the 
 ideal, and know in that the highest love, and that 
 whom he loves must be ready to renounce, that I 
 write at last to my little Marguerite, who waits at 
 home, that she must wait no more ; that another will 
 be better for her. We were betrothed ; yes, but he 
 makes me see a man s power is lost for the world 
 when he sinks it in one woman, and I had world 
 power I must use. And now when I believe him no 
 more, a veil falls away ; I lose Marguerite, who is proud, 
 and has made no sign, and I lose my faith, that was 
 strong, so strong I could live for him only. It is 
 but yesterday he has said, Rene, you are but one. 
 You have my affection, but think you my work can 
 rest on one ? Be strong, and live as I have taught 
 you, and you have recompense in that. His eyes 
 are hard. His hand has no more sought mine. And 
 then I know I am forsaken, and there is no return. 
 Why have you not warned all you who knew ? " 
 
 He turned upon Ballantyne fiercely. 
 
 " I will tell it. All shall know," he said. " Not 
 one shall believe in him more. And this Norton ! 
 I would kill him if he too cared, but he cares not. 
 // tend la joue, but he cares not for the kiss that waits. 
 Ah, infame ! " 
 
 He dropped his head in his hands and sat silent, 
 
272 BALLANTYNE 
 
 nor would he reply to the few words that Ballantyne 
 spoke. More were useless, and as he heard Percival s 
 step he left the room and beckoned him to his own. 
 
 " Do you know the whole of Regnault s story ? " 
 he asked. 
 
 " I did not till yesterday," Percival answered, with 
 even deeper trouble in his face. " Till then I counted 
 much of his passion pure melodrama and very super 
 fluous. But I have to say that, so far as Morris is 
 concerned, I think him conscientious in the matter." 
 
 " How ? " 
 
 " Because he believes absolutely that to the highest 
 natures, born for service, marriage is not only un 
 necessary, but a degradation. He would limit it, if 
 he could, to the middle class, and draw on them for 
 recruits for the work to be done." 
 
 " And you agree with him ? " Ballantyne asked. 
 
 " I go with him in part, but only in part, for he 
 has small capacity for understanding the best in a 
 woman, or indeed the best in that relation. At least 
 I must think so from some experiences I have known 
 very recently. I should have no right to mention 
 them if he had not said publicly, the other day, that 
 he let his own engagement linger on for years, be 
 cause certainly his enthusiasm would lessen and de 
 teriorate if he married. Real marriages, I know, are 
 few, but he goes too far." 
 
 If one dared meddle with these things," Ballan 
 tyne said, after a pause, " the inclination would be to 
 write to Regnault s fiancee, and tell the real story for 
 
BALLANTYNE 273 
 
 him. Women forgive everything. But I confess I 
 do not see my way clear. Only one thing is plain, 
 and that is that I have no further place here. I do 
 not need to say that for you. I think the same, Per- 
 cival, but I certainly would recommend a change." 
 
 Percival shook his head. 
 
 " If we all went," he said, " it would look like 
 concerted action. I don t want to hurt Morris un 
 necessarily. He will come to his senses soon, and 
 then defection would be only cruelty." 
 
 " In any case Regnault must be taken away," Bal- 
 lantyne replied. " He is quite past judging for him 
 self. I will arrange with him if I can, and then 
 speak to Morris." 
 
 To Ballantyne s surprise, next morning Regnault 
 yielded at once, passive misery having succeeded the 
 rage that had devoured him for weeks. 
 
 " It is a man of lead you will take with you," was 
 his only comment. u Beware that such weight does 
 not sink your boat and drag you to the bottom with 
 it." 
 
 u I have no fear," Ballantyne answered ; and after 
 seeing him begin to gather together his effects, aided 
 by Miss Byers, whose quiet comprehension was good 
 for all, he sought Morris in his study, and briefly told 
 him that Regnault needed change, and would leave 
 that afternoon. 
 
 The uneasy, roving eyes wore a harder look than 
 Ballantyne had ever seen in them, and as he listened, 
 curious gleams came and went and his face grew pale. 
 
 18 
 
274 
 
 BALLANTYNE 
 
 Ballantyne had expected a torrent of opposition, but 
 there was none, though the effort at restraint was 
 fully apparent. 
 
 " Your judgment is excellent," he said, with a thinly 
 veiled sneer. "It is best for all concerned that he 
 should go. He has been a cruel disappointment to 
 me." 
 
 Ballantyne s eyes searched the strange face in 
 voluntarily. 
 
 " I confess that the disappointment seems to me to 
 belong entirely to his side," he said ; and as Morris 
 met his look darkly, bowed quietly, and left the 
 room, nor did it surprise him, when the hour for 
 leaving came, that Morris failed to appear. 
 
 " A sneak, after all," he thought, relieved to have 
 such reasonable ground for returning to his first im 
 pressions. He had left a general good-bye, receiving 
 a special one from Dr. Prescott, whose eyes had a 
 look of ill-concealed triumph, and whose extended 
 hand Regnault refused to take. Percival he em 
 braced with fervor. 
 
 " Come away, Per-cee-val," he said. " Evil and 
 that man are one. I thought this Paradise, but air 
 of the Inferno blows in it, and there walks Mephisto, 
 and smiles at his doing." 
 
 " Wait a little," Percival said, " and you will 
 change. Perhaps soon we shall all be here again, 
 and the clouds quite gone." 
 
 Regnault shook his head, and fell again into 
 moody silence, and Ballantyne, who found it impos- 
 
BALLANTYNE 275 
 
 sible to rouse him, and who dreaded its results, sat by 
 him till late into the night, persuading him at last to 
 take the few hours of sleep that could be secured be 
 fore Fall River was reached. He had telegraphed to 
 Mrs. LeBaron that he was on the way with Reg- 
 nault, and relied on her wisdom for some way out of 
 the complication which he felt more and more power 
 less to meet. 
 
Chapter Eighth 
 
 i 
 
 old story," Mrs. LeBaron said 
 quietly, when she had listened to Bal- 
 lantyne s report. " The one good 
 thing in it is that you remain un 
 scathed. That was my terror. As for this poor 
 boy, we must wait a little before I can judge. If 
 his Marguerite can be reached and has large enough 
 soul to comprehend, that will be the best cure. He 
 is only one of many who have had to suffer." 
 
 " Then you understood Morris and knew his ten 
 dencies. This is nothing new to you ? In such 
 case, why have you not spoken." 
 
 Ballantyne s look held both surprise and indigna 
 tion, and he checked himself suddenly. " Of course 
 you had reason, and, knowing you, I believe it a good 
 one." 
 
 " I think it so, yet I cannot tell. Being one of 
 the sucked oranges myself may alter my point of 
 view, but when, after a year of closest intimacy with 
 Dunbar and myself, he dropped us absolutely for a 
 time, we had to form some theory to work on." 
 
 u For yourselves or for others ? " 
 
 " For both. He had transferred his allegiance to 
 
BALLANTYNE 277 
 
 one of our nearest friends with the same fervor that 
 had marked that to us, and with such absolute calm 
 ness of disregard, that we had to conclude he was 
 practically oblivious of offence or injury. When in 
 turn it passed on, from people old enough to compre 
 hend, in part at least, to a girl I loved, that was dif 
 ferent, and I interfered. It did no good. She broke 
 her heart, for he soon exhausted such possibilities as 
 she had and turned to her brother. Since then, I 
 think, no woman has had any serious entanglement 
 with him, and since his last retreat in Italian monas 
 teries he scouts marriage, and spends his superabun 
 dant affection on boys." 
 
 " But this all being so, why did you not explain 
 his characteristics before I went there ? " 
 
 " Because he was once, and in some ways remains, 
 my friend, and because I saw that he was not likely 
 to touch you. Do you not find that the better you 
 know him, the less you feel capable of judging him ? " 
 
 " That is true, but he is dangerous." 
 
 " Not often, I think. There is absolute genuine 
 ness in his learning and his method of imparting it. 
 The life he would have his followers lead is in many 
 points a noble one. What right have I to prevent 
 any chance that may come to him, of devotion or 
 unselfishness ? It is the want of them that ruins 
 him, and yet, up to a certain point, he gives them 
 like water. It is too complex a nature to judge by 
 ordinary laws." 
 
 " Granted," Ballantyne said. " But there are a few 
 
278 BALLANTYNE 
 
 very simple ones that must govern even genius, are 
 there not ? I admit the power, but I have found 
 also a substratum of boor and sneak, which crops 
 out at critical moments, and is as much the real man 
 as the others. He will shirk responsibility, and I am 
 not at all certain he would not lie fluently, for his 
 temperament is so exaggerated that what he wishes 
 to believe becomes truth. To me it seems right to 
 warn, where warning can be of any use." 
 
 u But when his fascination has begun to work, the 
 time has past," said Mrs. LeBaron. " That is the 
 sad part of it. How much have you ever learned 
 from a warning, John ? To me, at least in my 
 younger days, it was always a challenge to test the 
 thing for myself, and I do not find that human nature 
 in this generation has altered." 
 
 " Then experience counts for nothing, you think?" 
 
 " Always nothing, if brought to bear directly. Its 
 only mission is an indirect one. The accumulated 
 product passes on, and that is where heredity and 
 progress join hands. You learn to avoid certain 
 things, and the child follows suit ; but every thou 
 shalt not, since time began, has been but a challenge 
 to mankind, and remains so." 
 
 " And this is all an old story to you ? " Ballantyne 
 asked after a pause, in which he had frowned again. 
 
 " I wish it were not, but his life here meant a series 
 of changes. There were so many splendid boys, for 
 he has unerring taste ; he knows a fine thing when 
 he sees it, who have gone through the miseries this 
 
BALLANTYNE 279 
 
 poor thing Regnault knows, though I do think an 
 American can bring philosophy to bear more easily 
 than a Frenchman. With one or two it has made 
 cynics. For the rest, I think it has been an invalu 
 able experience. Are you not yourself the richer for 
 your time with him ? " 
 
 Ballantyne looked at her silently. 
 
 " It is a tribute to his power," he said, at last, 
 " that I have to say yes, and to admit that in many 
 points he has the secret of life. Intellectually there 
 is something superb in his quality. There he is honest. 
 For the rest, I cannot judge him. Spiritually he is 
 
 " Neither you nor any man can tell what, least 
 of all himself," Mrs. LeBaron said, as he hesitated. 
 " He has intellectual convictions, and so fervidly that 
 they stimulate soul-life as fully to himself as to others. 
 But the real fire is not there. I doubt if it ever 
 will be." 
 
 " It is a bale-fire at present, and his community 
 will end in smoke if it blazes much longer," Bal 
 lantyne said, and rose to see Regnault, then turned 
 impulsively. 
 
 " Does it ever, has it ever occurred to you," he 
 said, "that there is a mystery about this being of double 
 nature, double dealing, and double personality ? " 
 
 Mrs. LeBaron looked at him steadily. 
 
 " Make your words clear, John. What do you 
 suspect ? " 
 
 " I have ceased to suspect. I believe. It is a 
 woman." 
 
2 8o BALLANTYNE 
 
 Your proof ? " 
 
 Ballantyne threw out his hands with a gesture 
 of infinite contempt. "Proof? There is but one 
 method for that. But I caught the other day, as little 
 Madame Bergmann hovered about him, an expression 
 of the Inferno itself, and yet a childish sort of glee 
 as well, an expression that held a diabolical rejoic 
 ing in her useless and hopeless infatuation, a glee 
 that power was in him to produce it. A woman 
 taking revenge on all women for some suffering of 
 the past ; a woman in her power to hold and play 
 with men, and the man s brain, the intellect of a 
 hundred men in one, dominating the whole. If I be 
 lieved in a Mephisto I should say this was his present 
 reincarnation. You are silent. My cousin, you must 
 answer me. I cannot go back without it." 
 
 " I cannot," she said. " This is all barest sus 
 picion. I have felt it a thousand times, and, save to 
 Dunbar, always kept silence. He shared it with me, 
 yet could never feel sure. It is, was, only instinct 
 like mine. What right had we to interfere with his 
 own plan of living ? Rosa Bonheur chose the same 
 dress. Oh, I know this is different," as Ballantyne 
 made an impatient movement. " Of course it is 
 different." 
 
 " He has worn this dress always ? " 
 
 " By no means. In the first years after he came over 
 from every point in the civilized world it seemed for 
 he seemed familiar with all he wore the ordinary 
 man s dress, only that he chose the velvet coat of the 
 
BALLANTYNE 281 
 
 artist, and was usually taken for an artist. Certainly 
 he knows more of real art than any dozen of them. 
 He had been in the Austrian army, it was said. In a 
 Greek insurrection we know, for friends of ours saw 
 him in Athens just afterward, and he boasted of his 
 usual fortune in coming out without a scratch. In 
 these later years he has been practically a monk for 
 three of them at least, for he came and went from the 
 Franciscan convent in Rome. Don t you see it can t 
 be ? It is simply an unheard-of combination of traits 
 and gifts, this subtle, freakish, woman-side, a psycho 
 logical puzzle. He wears this monk s robe at will. 
 I have seen him also in a priest s cassock." 
 
 Ballantyne threw back his head as if to dismiss the 
 subject. 
 
 "That is his present dress as he goes back and 
 forth to New York. But in the study I have seen 
 him in the white robe of a Bramahcharin, and he now 
 and then puts on one given him by a whirling der 
 vish. He says he cannot work save in the loosest 
 possible garment." 
 
 " Balzac had the same method, you remember. 
 This man is of all faiths and all nations," Mrs. 
 LeBaron said. " It is a mystery we cannot solve. 
 In fact, as I have often seen him surrounded by ador 
 ing women, I have thought myself a lunatic for my 
 own conviction. I have no facts. It is only the 
 sudden outcropping of ways that are distinctively a 
 woman s." 
 
 " Seraphita and Seraphitus ? " said Ballantyne. 
 
282 BALLANTYNE 
 
 u Don t, I beg you. It is sacrilege. This burly 
 monk is a new role to us all, but not at all astonish 
 ing. You must confess he fills it well. The wonder 
 is, if we are right, that Jesuit eyes and brains have 
 not long ago fathomed the mystery and forbidden 
 further masquerade. There is diabolism in it. Do 
 not go back, John, unless you must. Stay with us at 
 Plymouth. You need the simplicity of a man like 
 Nathan Allen to take the bad taste out of your 
 mouth. Plymouth is good working ground. Reg- 
 nault will be content there, I think, and it will give 
 you opportunity to study up the colonial background, 
 as well as to listen to more stories from Nathan, who 
 is as absorbed in telling as you in listening. Here he 
 is now, and he will beg you to stay, if begging be 
 necessary." 
 
 " It is not, I assure you. You do not need to be 
 told it," Ballantyne said, rising hastily as the stately 
 head of Colonel Allen appeared in the doorway, where 
 he paused for a moment for a word with the child 
 who had followed him. " Do not be troubled," 
 Ballantyne added low. " We will not speak of this 
 again unless there is grave reason," and he turned to 
 the new-comer, who soon proposed an adjournment 
 to the shore, where in a sheltered corner Regnault 
 had already brought his book and great umbrella, 
 renouncing both at the will of the two younger 
 children, who proposed to bury him in the sand. He 
 seemed quiet and untroubled, and entered into the 
 play so heartily that Ballantyne, who had fallen into 
 
BALLANTYNE 283 
 
 the habit of watching him anxiously, turned away 
 with the strongest sense of relief he had felt since 
 leaving New York, and began strolling up and down 
 the shore with the older man. 
 
 The life lived here had no counterpart in anything 
 he had ever known. In Colonel Allen, the son of 
 Mrs. LeBaron s oldest brother, and very nearly her 
 own age, he found a singular but delightful mixture 
 of the two generations. The family had come down 
 but a few weeks before, a quiet wife, who adored 
 him, three sons, two of whom were in Harvard, and 
 the two little girls, barely beyond early childhood. A 
 type of good fellowship was with them all unlike 
 anything his English life had given, a comradeship 
 that seemed to him the ideal of intercourse, a family 
 life so sweet and high that he marvelled as he looked, 
 and on all sides sought for its counterpart elsewhere 
 with a faith that in such life lay the promise of the 
 new era to come. 
 
 Colonel Allen himself, though now judge in one 
 of the Boston courts, preferred his old title, cleaving 
 to every recollection of war days, and passionately 
 loyal to the cause for which he had fought. A brill 
 iant talker, he found in Ballantyne an ardent listener 
 to every scrap of reminiscence, and they had spent 
 hours together daily. 
 
 Up to this time Ballantyne had happened to meet 
 but few who had taken part in the struggle, and he 
 had marvelled often at the oblivion, almost total, 
 which seemed to have fallen upon it all. To bury 
 
284 BALLANTYNE 
 
 bitterness was well, yet it seemed to him that even 
 the memory of the cause had died out, and the younger 
 generation growing up had small knowledge of its 
 meaning, and small honor for those who survived. 
 But for these sons, at least, his conclusion might be 
 altered. They were a different order from most of 
 the Harvard men he had happened to meet : simpler, 
 more in earnest, and devoted to the father, who 
 seemed rather elder brother and friend than parent. 
 
 To go over the whole background in the light of 
 knowledge like his, to find day after day what love 
 and loyalty lived in him, and what supreme faith for 
 the future he had battled for, ruled his life and thought, 
 was for Ballantyne an element that gave at last to his 
 own contrary and vexing impressions the form they 
 had lacked. No matter how Philistinism or mammon 
 might come uppermost, what flaws show themselves 
 at will, and the whole structure even at moments 
 seem toppling to its fall, below, strong and sure, were 
 the foundations built on everlasting right. 
 
 " When need came, the men were there. When 
 need comes again, their places will be rilled as well," 
 the colonel said, with a lifting of the gray head that 
 showed itself ready still for the storming of any for- 
 lornest hope. u The South knows it all now. They 
 were glorious fighters. I bow to the memory of Lee 
 and Stonewall Jackson. They were patriots both, 
 and they know now where their blunder was." 
 
 " But Morris, you know him, Mrs. LeBaron tells 
 me," said Ballantyne, " insists that the Massachu- 
 
BALLANTYNE 285 
 
 setts element, for instance, was chiefly dilettante. It 
 was a fashion to join a regiment, and they flocked like 
 so many sheep after a leader." 
 
 u A fashion ? " Colonel Allen said, his deep voice 
 deeper than ever. " It was a fashion that led Robert 
 Shaw and Theodore Winthrop to their death, and 
 buried the first under the negroes who filled that 
 trench at Fort Wagner ; a fashion that made our best 
 ready for death on the battlefield or starvation in rebel 
 prisons. These men sacrificed more in one hour 
 than this dog will do in a lifetime of mouthing." 
 
 " Father ! " Charles Allen interposed, " that is a 
 little steep, you know." 
 
 " How should he know, coming here when it was 
 all over, what it had meant ? And how dare he pose 
 as teacher and leader, when he has only a sneer for 
 the one holy thing in this mammon-loving century ? " 
 returned his father, hotly. " Straight through every 
 shame we have known, political treachery, and cor 
 ruption, trust betrayed, honor a name, lying the 
 foundation of success, I fall back on what has been, 
 and what will be. The stream flows deep. I care 
 not what sticks and straws, what carrion even, float 
 on its surface, its water is for the healing of the 
 nations." 
 
 " c Triumphant democracy, " said the younger, but 
 his eyes belied the slight sarcasm of his tone. 
 
 "That demonstration may pass," said the colonel. 
 " It is a mere cock-a-doodle-doo, well crowed and re 
 assuring, perhaps, for those who are tempted to believe 
 
2 86 BALLANTYNE 
 
 midnight a permanent state, but the merest material 
 satisfaction in huge crops, long railroad lines, bonanza 
 farms, and big fortunes. The real America is not 
 there, any more than the typical American is em 
 bodied in a Jay Gould." 
 
 " That typical American lingers in the background," 
 said Charles Allen. 
 
 " Not a very remote one, my boy. Turn to Lin 
 coln, if you want one. It is his name that means the 
 promise of more like him, and there are men in our 
 midst to-day, going their quiet way, who in any crisis 
 would show what power simple right carries with it. 
 When the roll is called they will answer." 
 
 " I do not doubt it," Ballantyne replied. " But in 
 the mean time here are a thousand forms of injustice 
 and oppression, and all culminating with either uncon 
 sciousness or entire ignoring of their existence. Your 
 labor question is as serious as the English, and you 
 have not yet begun to consider the meaning of the 
 general discontent and revolt." 
 
 " And I doubt if we shall fully till blood has been 
 spilled," said Colonel Allen. " We are a curiously in 
 different people, easy-going and careless to the last 
 moment ; but when we rouse, in the end we learn 
 and remember. There is something in the old words, 
 Without shedding of blood is no remission of sins. 
 It is a clarifying process, if nothing else. I tell you, 
 Ballantyne, you need not fear." 
 
 " I am speaking from a multitude of impressions," 
 Ballantyne began. 
 
BALLANTYNE 287 
 
 u You need more time, my dear fellow. You have 
 scampered through the country, and have, I know, a 
 blue-book of facts and impressions, but you must live 
 on and settle to your own work before you come to 
 any knowledge that will bear fruit in life. I look to 
 you, to my boys here, to every young fellow whose 
 very scoff at the shame of things is a promise of bet 
 ter doings, to give us the text we must live by. It 
 is war still, but it may be made a bloodless victory. 
 Here is something you must let me repeat, words 
 spoken by one who fought and who remembers." 
 
 The colonel paused a moment, and his eyes light 
 ened as he went on : 
 
 " c Through our great good fortune, in our youth 
 our hearts were touched with fire. It was given us 
 to learn at the outset that life is a " profound and pas 
 sionate thing." While we are permitted to scorn 
 nothing but indifference, and do not pretend to under 
 value the worldly rewards of ambition, we have seen 
 with our own eyes beyond and above the gold fields 
 the snowy heights of honor, and it is for us to bear 
 the report to those who come after us. 
 
 " What an old war-horse it is," said Charles Allen, 
 who had joined them, and whose hand sought his 
 father s nervous, sinewy one, with the instinctive 
 sympathy that united them. " It is frightfully bad 
 form, you know, to care for anything so much as 
 you care just for being alive to-day, on American 
 soil." 
 
 " Thank God that I am, and that it is my birth- 
 
288 BALLANTYNE 
 
 right ! " the colonel said solemnly, and walked away, 
 too greatly moved for further words. 
 
 " I wish I could look at it all with your eyes, Bal 
 lantyne," young Allen said as they rose from the 
 rocks where for a few minutes they had sat down, 
 and continued the interrupted walk. " I don t want 
 to be too cocksure, and that is the tendency of the 
 wholesale faith in ourselves in which we have come 
 up. Rather that, though, than the wholesale deprecia 
 tion that a good many of our men seem to think is the 
 only correct thing." 
 
 He paused suddenly, for something like the howl 
 of a madman sounded from below, with a shriek from 
 the children, who came running. 
 
 " He is dreadfully sick. He bit his letter," the 
 oldest cried ; and Ballantyne broke into a run as he 
 saw Regnault dash toward the point, just in time to 
 prevent his throwing himself in, and rinding sharp 
 struggle necessary. 
 
 " This time you shall not," Regnault cried ; but 
 Ballantyne threw himself upon him, calling to young 
 Allen, who in a moment had added his force, the 
 strength of two now necessary to hold the wild crea 
 ture in their hands. As he fought, a letter dropped 
 from his pocket, and even in the midst of the strug 
 gle Ballantyne saw and recognized the familiar hand 
 writing of Morris. 
 
 " He have dismissed me. I go back no more ! I 
 will live no more ! " Regnault cried. Then his 
 clutch relaxed, he fell back suddenly, and they saw 
 
BALLANTYNE 289 
 
 that he had fainted, not to be revived by any means 
 brought to bear. 
 
 To hail a passing wagon, lift him in and return 
 as speedily as possible to the house, was the only 
 method ; and shortly they had laid him on his own 
 bed, and watched the color coming back to his death 
 like face. He opened his eyes silently at last, slowly, 
 as if it were hardly worth the effort, looked about for 
 a moment, a look of unspeakable wretchedness in 
 their clear blue, and closed them again. A silence so 
 unnatural that Ballantyne had rather have encountered 
 raving was upon him, and it held him day after day. 
 The children came and went softly, and he touched 
 them for a moment, then turned away. Only Mrs. 
 LeBaron had any power over him, and even with her 
 he seldom spoke. 
 
 u He renounces me. I see him no more," was 
 the only explanation of his state ; and the pitying 
 woman who watched him knew that the inevitable 
 experience she sorrowed over in more than one was 
 working its will in a temperament that had never 
 learned how best to bear pain, and sought to teach 
 him, if might be, that escape was still possible, but 
 only through his own will. He answered nothing. 
 Brooding melancholy had settled down, and the pas 
 sage was swift into a state from which not even she 
 could rouse him. It was a burden too great for this 
 peaceful home, and Ballantyne presently took him up 
 to Boston, proposing to consult an expert alienist, 
 and in the meantime installing him in his own rooms. 
 
 19 
 
290 BALLANTYNE 
 
 Ashton s sympathies had been enlisted, and he 
 made many advances to Regnault, who rejected them 
 with barest courtesy. To argue was useless. Any 
 help must come from within, and the fierce brooding 
 that consumed him was not ground in which any 
 seed of patience or of hope could find present root. 
 A day or two in which he sat with bowed head and 
 folded arms, lost in misery, and then as Ballantyne 
 came in one afternoon, later than usual and troubled 
 that he had been so long delayed, a note lay on the 
 table and Regnault was gone. 
 
 " I must see him again," it read. " You are of a 
 goodness inconceivable, but it makes nothing till I 
 have talked with him, and made him to know what 
 I suffer." 
 
 To telegraph to Percival of his probable appear 
 ance was all that remained to be done, and Ballan 
 tyne returned to Plymouth hardly less anxious than 
 before as to what results might be, but relieved by a 
 letter from Percival, which came a day later. 
 
 " I was fearful of what might happen," he wrote. 
 " But fortunately Norton has been called away for 
 a few days by the illness of his mother, and so Reg 
 nault found the field his own. Morris welcomed 
 him with some show of cordiality, and for the pres 
 ent at least Regnault is comparatively calm and at 
 ease. I will keep you informed as to the course of 
 affairs, but am hoping now that I can induce Reg 
 nault to go away before Norton returns." 
 
 " It has passed out of my hands," Ballantyne 
 
BALLANTYNE 291 
 
 thought, with a long breath of relief, settling within 
 his own mind to remain with Mrs. LeBaron the 
 greater part of the time, since she had begged for it, 
 and his own wish was one with hers. Early after 
 noon brought a telegram. 
 
 " Come at once, if possible," it read. " In great 
 trouble ; " and Ballantyne, with a clouded look, paused 
 for a moment to say a reassuring word to Colonel 
 Allen, who had said, " Nothing serious, I hope," and 
 then went on to take counsel with Mrs. LeBaron. 
 
 " I cannot refuse," he said ; " and yet it is certain 
 there will be conflict of some sort. I want no words 
 with Morris, for he is hardly in his senses at present." 
 
 "Percival s common sense will prevent any scene," 
 Mrs. LeBaron said, but her face was anxious. " I 
 hoped you were through with all of them," she added. 
 " Where his own desires are involved the man stops 
 at nothing, and even scandal would be indifferent to 
 him. Thank Heaven, there is no woman in the 
 case." 
 
 " That is an alleviating circumstance," Ballantyne 
 said, with a half smile, " and will make things easier. 
 That phase may come later, if some of them have 
 their way." 
 
 u Heaven help them if they do," said Mrs. LeBaron, 
 fervently. 
 
 " And Heaven help him no less," Ballantyne said, 
 and turned to the time-table in the hall. " I cannot 
 get up in season for the steamboat train," he said. 
 " So we will have supper together peaceably, and I 
 
292 BALLANTYNE 
 
 will go up at eight, and on to New York at midnight. 
 I shall not remain there one unnecessary hour. I 
 want this atmosphere to go back with me ; not that. 
 This last time with you is worth all the rest. Without 
 it I do not know how I could have answered Marion." 
 
 He had not spoken her name since the evening in 
 which he had told her story, but there was a new 
 confidence in look and tone. 
 
 "Whatever comes of this," he said; "and there is 
 sharp trouble, else Percival would never have called 
 me back, I seem to have no more doubt of the fu 
 ture. It is not presumption, though it sounds like it. 
 It is an inward conviction, deep as life itself, that 
 fulfilment of desire is near, and I shall know the best 
 of life. If Marion still desires it, there is the old 
 house at home, and she shall feel it home, and divide 
 her time between the two." 
 
 Mrs. LeBaron looked up quickly, but his face was 
 
 in shadow. 
 
 Then your own standpoint has changed ? " she 
 said. America is not as essential to you as it was." 
 
 " It is more so, I think," he answered, slowly. 
 But I have gone through a world of disenchant 
 ment and readjustment, to find myself at last on solid 
 ground, from which I am not likely to be dislodged. 
 I can estimate values better. I am certain as to the 
 future. That life at home, the necessities involved, 
 had brought about abnormal sensitiveness, and a home 
 sick longing so strong that only yielding to it, and 
 being carried for a time where it would, could bring 
 
BALLANTYNE 293 
 
 the flood to natural levels. I think we were both ab 
 normal, and that this year had meant for her no less 
 than for me, readjustment, and a better estimate 
 of what things are worth. In any case life without 
 her is impossible. We must work it out as we can, 
 but I believe she will care to come home again, and 
 that life in the old house will renew itself in such 
 form as it has never known." 
 
 " It is a prophecy," Mrs. LeBaron said ; but tears 
 were in her eyes as she turned away hastily lest he 
 should see them. " Dear soul ; brave, true soul," 
 she thought. u I wish you need never be at the 
 mercy of any woman s whim. He is worth the ut 
 most devotion the noblest can give him, and who 
 knows what the end will be ? That the breath that 
 goes to the no of a foolish girl can be a blast strong 
 enough to blight a life like that ! It is horrible that 
 human beings have such power to save or destroy." 
 
 "There s the stuff for a good soldier in him," said 
 Colonel Allen, as they turned from the station to 
 which they had accompanied him ; Dorothy and Mar 
 garet, the two little girls, clinging to him to the last, 
 and deeply disconsolate at the wresting from them of 
 a playmate so fascinating. " He walks like one, and 
 there is a look in his eye that would mean mischief, 
 if mischief were needed." 
 
 " It seems to be needed now," Mrs. LeBaron 
 said, with a sudden impulse to throw part of her bur 
 den on these broad and kindly shoulders, and she 
 gave such outline of the tale as was needed. It did 
 
294 BALLANTYNE 
 
 not require many words. Morris had seldom had 
 much discussion, for heartily as Colonel Allen de 
 tested him, he respected her loyalty to the past. 
 Now he listened silently, nodding now and then as 
 if his own conviction were affirmed. 
 
 " No nationality comes amiss, it seems," he said 
 grimly, as she ended. " It is a catholic sort of maw, 
 and calls for all sorts. Don t fret, Mary. This is a 
 type he cannot swallow whole. He has his match, 
 and you need not fear but that Ballantyne will find a 
 way to straighten things." 
 
 " There is no straightening for a skein so tangled," 
 Mrs. LeBaron said, her voice still troubled. 
 
 "Cut it, then." 
 
 " Ah, but when human lives and souls are the 
 threads, cutting is not so easy." 
 
 " That is pure sentiment. A sharp cut and actual 
 cautery, and the deed is done, and life can be lived 
 afterward. Put it away, Mary, and now drown the 
 thought of that blatant Scotch Frenchman, or what 
 ever he is, in a game of whist." 
 
Chapter Ninth 
 
 Y~ | ""^HE little settlement wore its usual aspect, 
 
 \: a blending of solid and substantial past 
 
 rv embodied in the old house, with the 
 
 -^^ ephemeral and dubious present of the 
 
 flimsy cottages. Ballantyne, who had passed from 
 
 one apprehension to another as he pondered what 
 
 the telegram might imply, lifted the lion s-head 
 
 knocker, and then letting it drop, went in with the 
 
 impulse to first find Percival and discover the real 
 
 state of things before he encountered other members 
 
 of the family. 
 
 The study door stood open, but the room was 
 empty, nor was there any sound of life save low 
 voices from a distant room. As he paused for a 
 moment, the door at the head of the stairs opened 
 suddenly and Morris stood there, haggard, dishev 
 elled, and pale as if with watching. 
 
 " I wanted the doctor," he said, with no apparent 
 consciousness of Ballantyne s presence, and shut the 
 door as that to Percival s room opened, and Percival 
 himself came out, lifting his finger in sign of silence. 
 Ballantyne took the hand put out to him silently, nor 
 
296 BALLANTYNE 
 
 did either speak till Percival had led him down to the 
 parlor and closed the doors. 
 
 " You are in a private lunatic asylum at present," 
 he said, with an attempt at a smile, " and I am just 
 on the border myself, Ballantyne. I knew no one 
 else to turn to." 
 
 He was deadly pale and worn, with the same look 
 of long and anxious watching that had showed on 
 Morris s face. 
 
 We have had three diabolical weeks," he went 
 on. " I did not write, because I hoped to settle 
 matters without troubling you, and since the affair, 
 there has been no moment in which I dared leave 
 Regnault." 
 
 " An affair ? A duel, then, is the outcome of the 
 Brotherhood system?" 
 
 " No, but as bad. Regnault has stabbed Norton, 
 and taken morphine on his own account, a horrible 
 and profoundly unnecessary misery for all concerned. 
 Morris is as much a lunatic as the rest, and I am 
 laboring to keep it all quiet, with no hint for the re 
 porters, who would swcop down on us like so many 
 vultures on carrion if but a breath got out. I want 
 you to help, for you will understand." 
 
 " What I can," Ballantyne answered, suppressing 
 all tokens of his disgust for the entire complication. 
 " Now tell me briefly as you choose what the ex 
 traordinary melodrama means." 
 
 "That is precisely what it seems," Percival said. 
 "You would say I was dealing with tolerably well 
 
BALLANTYNE 297 
 
 defined realities, but the cause is to me so prepos 
 terously inadequate, that I wait involuntarily to hear 
 the curtain ring down. It all began in a passionate 
 scene in Morris s study. Norton, who returned the 
 day after you left, had thought things over in his ab 
 sence, realized that he did not belong here by any 
 natural affinity, and promised his grandfather to break 
 loose at once and go abroad. He came out late in 
 the evening, and found Dr. Prescott with Morris. 
 They never got on, you know. The doctor has a 
 sneering way, and he said I don t know what, but 
 enough to excite Norton, and then left. I heard 
 voices below me rising and falling, and then Morris 
 cried out my name. I ran down. He stood there 
 sobbing like a boy, his arms around Norton, and a 
 flood of wild words pouring out, entreaties, threats, 
 I know not what. 
 
 " c Percival, you love me ; make him see that I must 
 not be left, he cried as he saw me, and Norton 
 struggled away and came to me. c I think it would 
 kill me to live with him another day, he said, and 
 sunk into a chair half fainting. Regnault in the 
 meantime had been lying asleep on Morris s lounge, 
 and roused at last to hear this frantic appeal. He 
 rushed to him. c You have me, mon maitre ! You 
 have me ; it suffices ! he cried, and tried to clasp 
 him. Then Morris, whose sense was quite gone, 
 gave him one great thrust backward. c Away, you 
 stupid brute ! he said. I was through with you 
 long ago. Regnault fell back and looked at him, 
 
298 BALLANTYNE 
 
 and the devil was in his eye. Then he gave a snarl 
 and spring ; it was like some wild beast in sudden 
 fury. He caught the stiletto, the Persian thing on 
 Morris s table, and dashed at Norton. It is you, 
 the cause, the cause ! he shrieked out, and struck at 
 him ; but Morris flung himself against him and the 
 blade glanced aside. It was a deep flesh-wound only, 
 but Norton was, it seems, on the brink of fever, and 
 he had no force to stand up against the whole horror 
 of it. 
 
 u Regnault came to himself as he saw blood flow, 
 and begged madly for forgiveness, but Morris spurned 
 him away. He was incapable of anything but loath 
 ing, and the poor wretch crept to his room and swal 
 lowed all the morphine of his sleeping-powders. It 
 was a hard pull to save his life, and he is stupid and 
 heavy still. We must get him away at once. You 
 see what need there was of you. It is quite unreason 
 able, for I have no claim ; not the slightest." 
 
 " You have every claim," Ballantyne said quietly, 
 as Percival s voice broke. " You know well for 
 what willing service I am ready in any cause of 
 yours. Which madman is to be dealt with first ? " 
 " Regnault. I do not know what may happen, 
 for Morris has a curiously relentless streak. I have 
 made him see the seriousness of the charge and urged 
 him to go home, at least for a time. A steamer sails 
 to-morrow afternoon. If he knows that your mind 
 is the same as mine in the matter, perhaps we can 
 get him away quietly. He is hysterical as a girl, and 
 
BALLANTYNE 299 
 
 I have had to give all my energy to keeping him quiet 
 on Norton s account." 
 
 " Is young Marston in the midst of it all ? " 
 
 u No, thank Heaven ! He went off for a few 
 days just before it happened, but he is terribly dis 
 affected. It seems Regnault, who was fond of him, 
 you know, wrote to him that he must not return, 
 and Marston wrote to Miss Byers to ask what it 
 meant. In his letter to her he said that personally 
 he should be glad enough not to, for Morris had lost 
 all interest in him, but as the engagement was for 
 the year, he supposed it must go on. She brought 
 it to me, and I wrote him to return, as Norton 
 would very soon leave. Once clear the coast, and 
 things will be better." 
 
 u They will never be better," Ballantyne said, with 
 sudden decision. " Percival, you have had your year 
 of novitiate, and you know it is true. Come back 
 with me, and let me leave you safe in my rooms till 
 I come again. Let this man work out his own prob 
 lem. He shall not spoil yours any longer." 
 
 " No man can hurt me but myself. That was 
 said for me long ago," Percival replied. u My place 
 is here. I shall bridge over the gulf this explosion 
 has made, and Morris will need me. It is poor 
 friendship that stops short in face of an emergency." 
 
 " I think the better of him that you cleave to him 
 so," Ballantyne said. " Go your way, then, as we all 
 must, each in his own path, but the place is ready for 
 you if you will." 
 
joo 
 
 BALLANTYNE 
 
 "You are solid and sure as bed rock," Percival 
 answered, with a look of deepest gratitude and confi 
 dence, and then, as a sound came from Regnault s 
 room, went toward it and motioned Ballantyne to 
 follow. 
 
 Regnault accepted his appearance passively, too 
 sunk in wretchedness for wonder or any emotion 
 outside himself, and for a time it seemed impossible 
 to rouse him, or make him feel the urgent necessity 
 for action. It came at last, and he listened attentively 
 to Ballantyne and his plan for him. 
 
 " I have but little money," he said. " It cannot 
 be done." 
 
 " Here is all you want," Ballantyne said, reassur 
 ingly. " That need make no difficulty. Now I am 
 going back to town, and everything will be arranged 
 for you, so that you need have no trouble ; Percival 
 will pack everything, and we shall be with you till 
 you start." 
 
 He spoke as if to a child, for Regnault had caught 
 his hand, and looked at him, his deep blue eyes large 
 with tears, nor till Percival took his place was it 
 easy to break away. The arrangements in town 
 were soon made. He secured a comfortable state 
 room, with no other occupant, for there were few 
 passengers on the list, and then sought the purser, an 
 alert and wiry little Frenchman, who promised all 
 possible attention to the partial invalid Ballantyne 
 represented Regnault to be. 
 
 He would bring him in the early afternoon the 
 
BALLANTYNE 301 
 
 next day, he planned ; see him off, for the hour of 
 sailing was at three o clock, and then go on himself 
 by boat to Boston, there being no other complication 
 to which he owed any attention. 
 
 Regnault listened silently as Ballantyne on his re 
 turn told him that all arrangements were made, and 
 even murmured thanks as he took his hand, and for 
 a moment laid it on his burning forehead. 
 
 u The ocean wind will blow away all this heat," 
 Ballantyne said soothingly, for tears were running 
 down the haggard young cheeks. 
 
 " How shall I leave him ? " Regnault said. 
 " Who will forgive him more than I ? Oh, an 
 other, who has suffered also, knows all. It may be as 
 he thinks ; " and he repeated softly, as a dirge, his old 
 passion and force quenched in weakness and sorrow : 
 
 " l De ces bien passagers que V on goute a demi, 
 Le meilleur qui nous reste est un ancien ami. 
 On se brouille, on sefuit, qu un hasard nous rassemble, 
 On /" approche, on sourit, la main louche la main, 
 Et nous nous sou<venons que nous marchions ensemble, 
 Que r ame est immortelle, et qu hier c est demain."" 
 
 " Et qu hier c est demain" he repeated. " Mais 
 non, mais non. II ne revient plus" 
 
 He rose and began to gather together some loose 
 articles about the room, and Ballantyne presently left 
 him and went down to the late supper, conscious 
 that he had not eaten since morning, and glad to 
 meet the friendly face of Miss Byers, which showed 
 traces of trouble through its Quaker calm. 
 
302 BALLANTYNE 
 
 " You were very good to come," she said. " I 
 feared you would not. It is a serious time for all, 
 but no one knows." 
 
 " And no one will know," Ballantyne said, reassur 
 ingly. " There is not the slightest reason why they 
 should. In such matters it is sometimes quite right 
 to take the law into one s own hands." 
 
 " I am glad you believe so," Miss Byers said. She 
 had looked at him anxiously as if dreading what his 
 reply might be. " I feared it might be only self- 
 interest that spoke in me, but you would not mind 
 that, I know." 
 
 There was trust in tone and look, and Percival 
 smiled as his eyes met Ballantyne s with the same 
 expression. Supper was even cheerful. They drew 
 their chairs nearer as it ended, and Ballantyne listened 
 to Miss Byers s report of the situation from the 
 Quaker point of view, and the evasions forced upon 
 her by curious cottagers, who could not understand 
 so much sudden illness in a proverbially healthy place, 
 or why Regnault had completely disappeared from 
 view. 
 
 Clouds had settled down at sunset, and a chilly fog 
 crept from the marshes slowly up the hill, stealing in 
 at every opening. 
 
 " It is the one thing I do not like about the place," 
 Miss Byers said at last, rising to close the door, and 
 pausing with the knob in her hand as the sound of a 
 distant shot was heard. u Some gunner," she said. 
 " It is September, and they will not leave a bird. To 
 
BALLANTYNE 303 
 
 shoot at night, though, of course it can t be a 
 gunner." 
 
 A sudden change came over Percival s face. 
 
 " Regnault is alone. He must not be," he said, 
 and went quickly to the stairs. In a moment he was 
 back, and his face was pale. 
 
 " The room is empty," he said. " Ballantyne, I 
 ought never to have left him." 
 
 He had opened one door and another as he spoke, 
 and as each room showed itself empty, dashed out, 
 followed by Ballantyne. 
 
 " Go to the cottages," the latter said. " He may 
 be there." 
 
 "No, he shrunk from them all," Percival returned. 
 " There is just one chance, the old summer-house 
 in the orchard. If he is not there, he is in the 
 ravine, for the sound came from that direction." 
 
 The two went together through the orchard, look 
 ing from side to side as they went, with the vague 
 hope that from any one of these thickets of lilac or 
 syringa the figure of Regnault might emerge. But 
 neither there nor in any corner of the rambling 
 grounds was there trace of him, and they went on 
 silently toward the ravine, pausing only while Percival 
 went in for the bull s-eye lantern hanging by the 
 kitchen door. 
 
 The ravine lay between the hill on which the 
 settlement stood, and another much lower one be 
 tween them and the marsh road. Deep gullies were 
 on either side, bare now save for overhanging, twisted 
 
304 BALLANTYNE 
 
 growth of wild vines and shrubs, but where, in early 
 spring, the water ran in torrents. Beyond lay the 
 ravine, rock-strewn from the blastings made in cut 
 ting down the hill road, and filled with dense under 
 growth, here a mass of shadow, there climbing at 
 will to fling itself about the trees grouped at the end. 
 A path little used but still well marked led through 
 it, and Percival went on swiftly toward the end, the 
 light from the bull s-eye serving only to intensify the 
 shadows into which he peered. 
 
 Suddenly at his feet was something blacker still, 
 a dark heap huddled together ; and he fell to his knees 
 and turned the light full on the white face, lifting the 
 Jimp hand from which the pistol had dropped, and 
 then looking up in horrified silence into Ballantyne s 
 face. 
 
 " There is no sign of wound," the latter said, but 
 Percival pointed to a scorched spot on the breast. 
 
 " He has shot himself through the heart," he said. 
 " He must have died instantly. Good God, Ballan- 
 tyne ! What will come of it ! Poor, wretched soul ! 
 Why could we not have saved you from this ? " 
 
 " Go up for the doctor and his man, and have 
 them bring some sort of litter," Ballantyne said. " I 
 will stay here. He may not he quite dead ; " and 
 Percival stumbled away, well nigh incapable of mo 
 tion, leaving Ballantyne kneeling by the dead man s 
 side. 
 
 " Is he quite gone ? " he asked, when, after what 
 seemed long delay, Dr. Prescott came down the path 
 
BALLANTYNE 305 
 
 toward him, men with lanterns and a litter following 
 him. He nodded silently as his examination ended, 
 his set face giving no token of feeling beyond a slight 
 paleness, and as silently Ballantyne aided the men in 
 lifting and bearing the body up the hill. 
 
 Morris stood at the door as they approached, and 
 his face was ghastly as that of the man he had sent 
 to his death. 
 
 " I will not have him brought in here ! " he cried. 
 " Take him where you like, but not here ! " 
 
 Ballantyne looked at him a moment, then motioned 
 the men on. 
 
 " Curse you ! " Morris said, in sudden fury. " I 
 tell you the house shall not be polluted with that 
 carrion. If he chose to end his own life let him 
 take the consequences, and fare as suicides should. 
 The cross roads and a stake are what he has earned. 
 He has brought torment enough here. Take him 
 elsewhere." 
 
 "You are beside yourself," Percival said, with 
 such sternness as Ballantyne had never heard. " Till 
 the coroner has done his work, you have no word to 
 say. Come away." 
 
 " The coroner shall not be told. I will have no 
 coroner here," Morris said, no less fiercely ; but Miss 
 Byers had motioned the men toward the parlor, and 
 as they placed their burden there, threw over it the 
 sheet she carried, and closed and locked the door 
 behind her. For a moment Morris eyed her savagely, 
 then, yielding to Percival s hand, turned away, and 
 
 20 
 
3 o6 BALLANTYNE 
 
 went up the stairs. She was trembling from head to 
 foot as the door closed behind the pair, and she looked 
 at Ballantyne. 
 
 " Is he insane too ? " she whispered. u What 
 shall be done ? Oh, Mr. Ballantyne, don t go away 
 till all this is over." 
 
 u I will not. You may depend upon me," he said, 
 quietly. " It is my affair as much as yours, you 
 know. We must all do for this poor boy whatever 
 there is left to do." 
 
 For a moment the quiet little woman burst into 
 sudden tears, choked back indignantly. 
 
 " It is so sudden, so horrible," she said, apologeti 
 cally. " That is why I gave way so. I must go to 
 my sister, for she will be frightened. If you stay, 
 everything will be right as it can be now. Can 
 anything ever be really right again ? " 
 
 She hurried away, and Ballantyne, as he saw Dr. 
 Prescott approaching, went to meet him and question 
 as to what must first be done. The doctor had acted 
 promptly ; a message had been sent to the coroner, 
 who fortunately lived at the foot of the hill, and 
 would be up in the early morning. 
 
 ct The best thing for every one concerned is a sleep 
 ing-powder," he added. u It is the only medicine 
 for such a state of things. I hope no hint of it will 
 get to Norton. He was doing very well this after 
 noon, but the least excitement would put him back 
 seriously." 
 
 " If it can only be kept quiet," Ballantyne said. 
 
BALLANTYNE 307 
 
 " I think it can be, if the coroner has sense. My 
 men are safe enough, for they have worked under my 
 orders a long while, and understand that I mean what 
 I say. Dangerous illness in the house will help 
 things, too, if Morris can be induced to hold his 
 tongue. At present he is a lunatic, and deserves the 
 treatment of one. I wish you to see after Percival 
 and tell him he must sleep. He will go to pieces if 
 he does not." 
 
 Professional feeling was uppermost, and his anxiety 
 very genuine. Percival came down as they talked 
 together and easily yielded to his wish. 
 
 " Oblivion for a while will be heaven," he said, 
 and he swallowed the powder Dr. Prescott produced, 
 and went away to his own room, leaving him to deal 
 with Morris if he could. Ballantyne refused any 
 sedative. To sleep in the house seemed impossible, 
 and he wandered up and down the old road, lost in 
 pity and in awe over the swift passage of the tor 
 mented spirit. What way had it gone, blown by the 
 viewless, elemental wind ; or did it linger still, vainly 
 seeking re-entrance to this shattered house of life ? 
 Would he cling still to the man he had worshipped, 
 and be for him now a presence neither word nor will 
 could put aside ; or had clearer vision already come 
 and made him know that self is inescapable and for 
 ever the eternal judge of self? 
 
 Wandering up and down, the tension still too 
 strong for sleep, his thought turned at last, as 
 always, toward the centre of every thought and 
 
3 oS BALLANTYNE 
 
 desire, and now the longing for speech came upon 
 him. 
 
 " I will write," he thought. " The year is almost 
 over ; will be over when she receives it. A strange 
 time for this first word, but it must be. I cannot 
 wait." 
 
 He went softly to his room, and for an hour or 
 two wrote steadily till gray dawn was in the sky, 
 then folding the sheets sealed them in their envelope, 
 and lying down fell into troubled sleep, ending so 
 heavily that he knew nothing more till steps and 
 voices sounded below him, and he woke to find the 
 sunshine of late morning lying across the floor. 
 
Chapter Tenth 
 
 BALLANTYNE lingered in his room, 
 shrinking from facing again the horror 
 of yesterday, till, reproaching himself 
 for selfish cowardice, he went down to 
 the dining-room, to find that the legal forms were 
 already over. Percival, aided by Dr. Prescott, had 
 managed matters so admirably that their own testi 
 mony had sufficed, and the verdict of " suicide while 
 temporarily insane " gave the answer to outside 
 questioners. 
 
 For his own sake, and to do all honor to the name, 
 they would have had the funeral from the house, but 
 Norton s low delirium continued still, and, fearful 
 of its effect, Ballantyne gave the body into the under 
 taker s hands, with charge of all possible honor and 
 observance for the poor clay. With his own hand 
 he cut a lock or two from the fair head, touching it 
 tenderly for the love that had been there, and glad 
 that the dead face showed quiet and peaceful as life 
 had never known it. 
 
 In spite of every care some apprehension of what 
 had happened seemed to have crept into the room 
 where Norton lay, for often he cried out Regnault s 
 
3 io BALLANTYNE 
 
 name, and turned away in terror as Morris with 
 passionate tenderness bent over him. For the most 
 part he lay with half-closed eyes, muttering unintelli 
 gible words or snatches of verse, the fever burning 
 steadily and the wound refusing to heal. Yet in 
 spite of this, general symptoms were slightly better, 
 and Dr. Prescott, who had sought in vain to replace 
 Morris by a trained nurse, admitted that there was no 
 further danger, and that the care had been admirable. 
 
 " Where he learned it I don t know," Dr. Prescott 
 said, as they watched the gloomy wagon making its 
 way down the hill. " But he has nursed him like a 
 woman, and a wise one at that." 
 
 " I can tell you," Percival said. " He had an ill 
 ness of many months himself, the only one in his life, 
 and his sister-in-law nursed him. He has spoken of 
 it sometimes, and her devotion and thoroughness as 
 something he believed only a Scotchwoman could 
 manifest. He was living in Edinburgh then, and 
 could look out always, as he lay, on Arthur s Seat, 
 and it was in talking of the effect of mountains on 
 the spirit that he first mentioned her to me." 
 
 " It is an unexpected side," Dr. Prescott said, 
 meditatively, "and when it is over, he will go to 
 pieces himself. He carries a volcano inside there. 
 I thought him pure intellect, and he is like a pas 
 sionate undisciplined boy and woman mixed up 
 together." 
 
 He turned away with a sigh, and Percival looked 
 after him, with a little shake of the head. 
 
BALLANTYNE 311 
 
 " That man has a curiously offensive personality," 
 he said, " a kind of intellectual leopard, but what 
 good there is in him seems uppermost at present." 
 
 " Yes, but it is Morris he thinks of rather than 
 Norton," Ballantyne answered. " I should say that 
 aside from professional instinct, which is fairly strong, 
 he detests the poor, young fellow. The kind of affec 
 tion Morris awakens seems to include all evil passions 
 for everybody else, always excepting yourself, Percival. 
 I shall always tolerate him for your sake." 
 
 Percival was silent. Loyalty was still strong, and 
 would keep him so, but Ballantyne knew that the re 
 peated shocks of these later days, if they had not 
 entirely dislodged the idol from his niche, had at least 
 disclosed feet of clay, and rendered continued uncriti 
 cal faith and worship forever impossible. 
 
 " I have only an hour or two more," Ballantyne 
 said presently, as Percival, who had sat with head 
 leaning on his hand, turned to him at last. u Can I 
 help you at all with poor Regnault s matters ? Some 
 one must write to his friends, and here is the little 
 packet of hair. I hope his mother is not living." 
 
 " She is, and worships him," Percival said, rising. 
 " A letter came from her this morning. I knew the 
 writing, for he has shown me some of them. He 
 wrote the address last night, and left it lying there on 
 the table by this box of photographs." 
 
 " It is not possible he knew all these people," 
 Ballantyne said in amazement, for the long box held 
 certainly two hundred, and they were tossed in as if 
 
312 
 
 B ALLANTYNE 
 
 some one had grown weary of examining them, and 
 piled all in at once. 
 
 " They are Morris s," Percival returned. " Poor 
 Regnault had a fancy that he could make out the 
 story of his life from these faces, and often looked 
 them over in the study. He would make up groups, 
 and say to Morris, c These belong together. You 
 knew them when you felt or thought so and so; 
 and Morris sometimes looked at him almost aghast. 
 1 You are a diviner of spirits, he said more than once. 
 c How is it that you know the thing that was ? 
 Day before yesterday Regnault asked for them, and I 
 brought them to him, but he soon tossed them aside. 
 I must straighten them, for Morris s sense of order 
 is so strong that the look of that thing would distress 
 him seriously." 
 
 " I will do it," Ballantyne said, and sat down by 
 the table, finding, as he turned them out, a congrega 
 tion that might well have stirred the curiosity and 
 interest of the most indifferent. Many were dated, 
 and with the giver s signature; names familiar in 
 letters and art, from modern Greek, through the 
 whole gamut of nationalities. Now and then he 
 paused to look at one more attractive than the rest, 
 and said to himself, " Are you still untouched fruit, or 
 only a husk of some cast aside relation ? " For the 
 most part he shuffled them quickly into orderly 
 packets, but suddenly his face changed and a slight 
 exclamation escaped him. Percival turned and saw 
 that he held two of the photographs in his hand ; 
 
BALLANTYNE 313 
 
 one a small card and one of the early specimens of 
 the art, dark and imperfect, yet still bearing evident 
 relationship to the later and larger one, with a date 
 of ten years after, and the familiar name of a London 
 photographer on Oxford Street. 
 
 " Do you know the names of the unsigned por 
 traits ? " Ballantyne asked. 
 
 " A good many of them ; yes," Percival said. " It 
 .is a fact that the story of Morris s life is, just as 
 Regnault fancied it, in that box. These two I know 
 well. They are portraits of the girl and later the 
 woman to whom he was engaged, and who is, I 
 think, still living ; but he has never told me her name, 
 for which I am very glad, as he tells most things, and 
 this was by no means his." 
 
 " They are like an acquaintance of mine," Ballan 
 tyne said indifferently, and laid them with the rest; 
 but Percival noticed that the surprised look did not 
 at once leave his face, and that he sat for a few 
 minutes lost in thought. 
 
 There was reason. The face in the two portraits 
 was that of Barbara Ryde, and the later one, precisely 
 as she had been in his earliest recollection of her. 
 How she would rage at knowing it here in this mass 
 of accumulation, turned over by strange hands, and 
 commented on by strange tongues. With Morris s 
 effusive tendencies, what security was there that the 
 name might not, in any sudden burst of confidence, 
 become as common property as the portraits ? For 
 a moment his hand moved toward them. The tempta- 
 
3 i 4 BALLANTYNE 
 
 tion was strong to take possession and at once destroy. 
 As her lifelong friend he had the right. Then he 
 checked himself, but the mystery was as confounding 
 as each new phase of the owner s character. 
 
 One question followed another. How had he 
 known her, and where, and if acknowledged lover, 
 how could it be that no hint had ever been given 
 him by any of the old friends, who must have 
 known ? It might, however, have been quite in 
 secret, and as he thought he settled in his own 
 mind that this would be Morris s method. It was 
 even possible that beyond themselves no one had 
 known, but he resented fiercely the shameful obtuse- 
 ness that kept the photographs there, and the more 
 shameful self-revealment that lay in his confession of 
 what phase of life they represented. Evidently her 
 fortune had had no weight with him, a thing quite 
 in harmony with all his theories as to money. 
 
 He looked up at last to find Percival s eyes fixed 
 upon him. 
 
 "There is many a type of woman in that box, and 
 you puzzle over them evidently as Regnault did," he 
 said. " Morris s tastes are very catholic. There is 
 a streak of Goethe in him. In fact he often seems 
 to me a repetition of him in many ways. He is an 
 experimenter by instinct, and he looks at each fresh 
 case in an almost purely impersonal sort of way, as 
 common men cannot." 
 
 ct Thank Heaven, they have not reached his stage 
 of development ! " Ballantyne said, bitterly. u Per- 
 
BALLANTYNE 315 
 
 cival, I shall say nothing to you that I am not ready 
 to say to his face, but I wish I could make you drop 
 the whole thing. You do not belong here, and you 
 never will. You need not answer. This is the last 
 impulse to which I mean to yield, but believe me, I 
 have reason on my side, and never more so than at 
 this moment." 
 
 u Whatever is to be makes its own path," Percival 
 said, and his look seemed to carry assurance that fear 
 for him need not be felt. 
 
 Ballantyne, after the work of packing ended, sat 
 down by the table, and wrote to Regnault s mother 
 a letter which, in his own mind, was equally for the 
 sad-hearted girl who had loved him, telling the story 
 in the gentlest phrase that came, but finding no 
 words that could make it anything but the horror it 
 must always represent. When he ended, the hour 
 for leaving had already come, was even slightly past. 
 He made no attempt to see Morris, glad even that 
 the sick-room held him fast, and prevented words 
 which he was far too worn and too unbalanced to 
 hear, but which must some day be spoken. 
 
 " I must go with you," Percival said, after he had 
 given a hasty good-bye to Miss Byers. " I must have 
 the last possible bit of you, unless you had rather go 
 alone." 
 
 " Not I," Ballantyne replied. " You could do only 
 one thing more satisfactory, and that is to come all the 
 way." 
 
 Percival smiled silently, and the two made their way 
 
316 BALLANTYNE 
 
 down the hill, speaking but little, but each glad of the 
 other s companionship. They had reached the turn, 
 and for a moment Ballantyne paused, looking down to 
 the sordid town below, and back toward the old house. 
 
 A figure ran down the road and waved its arms, and 
 as it drew nearer he saw that it was Morris. Percival 
 too had turned, and looked apprehensively toward him. 
 
 " There is something wrong," he said. " Perhaps 
 Norton is worse," and went swiftly back toward him. 
 Ballantyne hesitated, then followed, and came face to 
 face with Morris, breathless from running and for the 
 minute incapable of speech. His eyes were on Bal- 
 lantyne s face with a directness he had never seen 
 there, and he faced him with a dignity equally unfa 
 miliar. 
 
 " You sail on Saturday, I am told," he said, " and 
 yet you were going with no word for me. Have I 
 earned that at your hands ? " 
 
 "You were shut in the sick-room," Ballantyne 
 began. 
 
 " Bah !" Morris broke in. " The sick-room had no 
 barricade. No ; you did not wish to see me. Stay, 
 Percival," as Percival made a motion of retreat. 
 " You too are disaffected, and it is my right to know 
 how and why. Sit here," he added, pointing to a log 
 lying on the side of the road, and screened by a wild 
 grapevine which hung in long festoons from the tree 
 at one side. " You may never return, Ballantyne. I 
 have the right to ask why you, a righteous man, are 
 willing to wrong me ? " 
 
BALLANTYNE 317 
 
 " Have I wronged you ? " Ballantyne said gently, 
 for in spite of full conviction, as he looked at him, 
 sympathy and pity both were strong. " I have 
 taken what came from yourself and drawn inevitable 
 conclusions. That is all. Any wrong it lies with 
 you to right." 
 
 u There is no wrong," said Morris, passionately. 
 " Why do you not comprehend that this wild creature 
 who has gone to his grave went there because he had 
 in him nothing solid or sound enough to save him ? 
 Do you think I had no interest in his peace or life ? 
 I would have given my own for his till I found that 
 the stuff I thought in him was but foam on the wave. 
 It is workers I seek ; not creatures whose will is a 
 thread and whose thoughts are a bubble. He had 
 emotions and passions. He had not one gift that 
 meant conquest of self or of right life. Why should 
 I not turn to the one who possesses all ? Who will 
 reward any sacrifice I can make, and who might live 
 to carry out the thought I cannot yet make permanent 
 in any mind ? Why do you count me traitor and brute 
 because I will not gloss things, but tell you in honest 
 words my honest thought ? I believed you, Ballantyne, 
 a man with more discerning eyes." 
 
 His face was calm and serious, his tone no less so, 
 and Ballantyne looked at him in profoundest amaze 
 ment. What man was this in him that had risen up 
 to arraign his just accusers, and with a faith in himself 
 so certain that it placed them at the bar, and held them 
 dumb before him ? 
 
318 BALLANTYNE 
 
 " We can gain nothing by arguing it," Ballantyne 
 said at last. u We look at things from utterly differ 
 ent standpoints. To me loyalty is a prime virtue. 
 To you it seems to bear another name, if I may judge 
 by what I know of your life." 
 
 u I am as loyal as you," Morris said, solemnly ; " but 
 I am loyal to the ideal, not to the individual. It is 
 truth I seek, and beauty, which is truth. If I believe 
 I have found it and then come to know myself mis 
 taken, shall I dishonor that ideal by cleaving to its 
 corpse till it festers in my arms ? I am neither fickle 
 nor disloyal. I seek the highest, the trinity in which 
 beauty and love and truth are one." 
 
 " I cannot deny that you may believe this," Ballan 
 tyne said, after a silence in which Morris had looked 
 at him steadily. "But it is an unhappy fact that those 
 who look on use more practical interpretations, and 
 have other definitions of your course. I will not judge 
 you. Your power would always draw me, but your 
 ethics I am incapable of comprehending. You read 
 aloud letters sacredly and only your own. At this 
 very moment, where any and all may turn over the 
 piles, and comment at will, you keep the face of a 
 woman who must have loved you well to give it at all, 
 and you do not hesitate to tell the story. She is my 
 friend, and I regard it as the final touch of obtuseness 
 and disloyalty in a character as complex as a kaleido 
 scope and as shifting." 
 
 u So ! " Morris said in surprise, but his eyes did 
 not fall. "That was a youthful blunder ; an infat- 
 
BALLANTYNE 319 
 
 uation that slowly took its rightful place. I keep 
 the memory as warning." 
 
 " Then let it be memory only," Ballantyne said, 
 sternly ; " and for decency s sake destroy what may 
 be yours, but is certainly no other s." 
 
 " I see a little how it might strike you," Morris 
 said, as if the admission must necessarily condone all 
 offence. 
 
 Ballantyne s eyes rested on him steadily, but Mor 
 ris did not flinch. Never had he carried himself 
 more nobly, never had Ballantyne felt the extraordi 
 nary power he owned, as now in finally rejecting his 
 mission and denying his claim to fellowship. 
 
 " My life is before all, and you know it," Morris 
 said in his quietest tone, his eyes dark with emotion. 
 u I hide not one of its acts. I repeat again, I want 
 no concealments." 
 
 " Other people are not so fortunately constituted." 
 
 u I care not one whit for the usual code. Why 
 should I ? Its foundations are false, and its practical 
 action no less so." 
 
 " That may be," Ballantyne returned, " but you 
 will fare alone if your path does not change its 
 course." 
 
 u It is true, but one has had real knowledge," 
 Morris said, motioning toward Percival, who had left 
 them after the first few words, and now paced up and 
 down waiting for the conversation to end. " There 
 goes one who never doubted, nor could have done 
 if any nature less strong than yours had shown faith- 
 
J20 BALLANTYNE 
 
 lessness. Because you are sceptical, must I lose 
 him ? " 
 
 "Any truth in you commands him still," said Bal- 
 lantyne, and now he rose. " I am not your enemy, 
 Morris, however distinctly I disbelieve some of your 
 theories as well as some of your practice. There 
 have been many times when I accepted and honored 
 both. You must work out your own problems no 
 less than I mine. Use Percival s eyes, and you may 
 find clearer light than your own always receive." 
 
 " But you are taking him from me." 
 
 " On the contrary, he refuses to leave you, well as 
 I incline to think it might be for him. Guard his 
 faith more thoroughly than you have that of others, 
 for if you do not, you deserve perdition." 
 
 " You are right," Morris answered, quietly. " It is 
 a nature of the gods. He shall not be hurt. And I 
 give you my word that this is the last hour the two 
 photographs have existence. I burn them when I go 
 back. Will that content you ? " 
 
 He put out his hand, and Ballantyne took it and 
 looked again into the inscrutable eyes of this mystery. 
 Then Morris grew very pale, threw his arms about 
 him, pressed him close, and in a moment was speed 
 ing up the hill and past Percival, who turned and 
 came on. Ballantyne, too deeply moved for words, 
 walked silently beside him for a time. 
 
 " You are right, Percival," he said at last. " Cleave 
 to him. Mysterious complexity as he is, the good 
 must some day come uppermost. The man of to- 
 
BALLANTYNE 321 
 
 day in him is only a veneer. Underneath he is, as 
 I was told, pagan, Greek, and mediaeval monk, and 
 the ill-joined trinity will not dissolve for any will of 
 yours or mine. I could not have believed I should 
 part with him so kindly." 
 
 He took out his watch as he spoke, and shook 
 his head. " It must be a train, after all," he said. 
 " There is no time for a five o clock boat." 
 
 " If you prefer boat so decidedly," Percival said, 
 "there are Providence ones, that Morris often goes 
 by. The docks are near, and they do not leave till 
 six." 
 
 " A sleeping-car is something I cannot tolerate," 
 Ballantyne said. " A state-room to myself recon 
 ciles me to slower methods. There is our car, Per 
 cival. We must run a bit if we are not to lose it," 
 and the two made all haste toward the station. 
 
 21 
 
Chapter Eleventh 
 
 ~^k Y the way," Percival said, as the car came 
 
 ^^ in sight, u I had quite forgotten this 
 M packet which Miss Byers asked me this 
 
 morning to hand you as you left. Good 
 
 soul ! Thank Heaven she is there, and all her Quaker 
 common sense with her ! And now, Ballantyne, best 
 of fellows, all good go with you. Good-bye." 
 
 He wrung Ballantyne s hand as he spoke, his clear 
 eyes full of sorrow, then turned and went slowly up 
 the hill. 
 
 Ballantyne took his place in the grimy car, the sole 
 passenger, for at that hour the tide of travel sets out, 
 not in, and after a moment untied the little packet, 
 finding within it a heavy envelope addressed to him 
 in Morris s minute but very clear and beautiful hand 
 writing, and sealed with the lion s-head ring he always 
 wore. For an instant he was moved to tear the thing 
 to shreds, and scatter them in the wind. Instinct told 
 him what lay within, a confidence from which he 
 recoiled, its nature already a matter of full belief. 
 
 " Woman to the end in every method," he said, 
 half aloud, u and I no less so in opening the seal the 
 breaking of which binds me to silence." 
 
BALLANTYNE 323 
 
 For an instant he hesitated, then unfolded the 
 closely written sheets and read : 
 
 " There is no doubt in my mind, there has been 
 none since the first hour of our meeting that you 
 have guessed it ; yet why you, when a hundred others 
 in closer relation have never one moment suspected ? 
 I saw in your eyes the flash of certainty as you looked 
 across that dinner table noting some betrayal of which 
 I was and am unconscious. Yet I have studied 
 my part. I had need. The man in his natural, in 
 voluntary expression from priest to porter I have 
 watched, till I know every movement, voluntary and 
 involuntary. I learned my part, and I have played it 
 successfully. 
 
 " Understand that I make no excuses. Why 
 should I ? Life was mine to live as I chose. It 
 held a mission, and that mission I knew almost from 
 childhood. It was my right to choose the garb in 
 which it could most easily fulfil itself. Nor did I 
 elect to follow in the steps of George Sand or Rosa 
 Bonheur, the woman always in evidence, always to 
 be recognized. I had work to do that meant the 
 abolition of the woman the utmost development 
 of all the masculine; that, happily for my plan, had 
 been given me in abundant measure. The founda 
 tion for the whole my father laid himself. Dour Pres 
 byterian as he was, he had been trained. No man 
 alive better knew Greek than he, and Plato s Repub 
 lic forever jostled in his brain the doctrine of election, 
 and the catechism I learned with my Greek grammar. 
 
BALLANTYNE 
 
 My mother died in childbed when I was not quite 
 two years old, leaving a man-child, who is as feminine 
 as I am not, and my father, who had loved her, went 
 into retreat, a desolate house on a desolate moor ; 
 not a neighbor, and visited by the carrier once a 
 week. 
 
 " There it was that we were brought up, dressed 
 alike and faring alike, though Donald with all his 
 courage was weak as a baby compared to my strength. 
 I was a sturdy animal; but from the beginning I had 
 thoughts of my own, and never feared to tell them. 
 My father knew the world even while seeing it 
 through Presbyterian eyes. There had been a day 
 when he was not Presbyterian, and the old experi 
 ence did him good service at times. He told me its 
 methods, and I have found no error in his judgment. 
 Well for me that I drank in his teaching as eagerly 
 as he gave it. Well for me that he believed in the 
 physical as well as the spiritual and mental side of 
 life, and studied St. Martin side by side with the 
 catechism. Well for me, yet whether well or ill in 
 the conflict that came, no man can settle, not I my 
 self even, till, it may be, another reincarnation, if such 
 there be, puts me where I justly belong, or gives me 
 better power to endure the mismating of soul and 
 body in this. 
 
 u Dressed as a boy from the beginning, side by side 
 with Donald, leading him in all sports, governing 
 him till he had no will but mine, my father s refrain, 
 4 Puir lassie ! Only a lassie, after all ! as I grew 
 
BALLANTYNE 325 
 
 older, irritated, outraged, stimulated every power in 
 me. At sixteen he said to me, c The time has come 
 for return to other ways. 1 have given you all that 
 the woman-child never gets. We must see now 
 what it may mean. I have been wrong, maybe. It 
 is certain the world would say so, and that the devil 
 had guided my course, and turned you toward perdi 
 tion. I myself am doubting why I did it. 
 
 " His eyes were heavy. I had heard him walking 
 the floor of nights, but no man dared go near him 
 then. Donald was nearly ready for Aberdeen, his 
 college and mine. He had small brain compared 
 with me, but he is no fool. My father had been 
 watching us both, and it was grief to him that I could 
 not be the boy. I was old always even when a child. 
 I had thoughts, and my will was fixed. c My life is 
 my own, I said to him. My mind is clear to me. I 
 shall go up with Donald when the time comes, and 
 I shall go as your son. The work I am born to do 
 is not for woman. I will see for myself what my 
 soul means, with no draggle of petticoats or binding 
 of ribbons to stay my course. 
 
 " c You will do what I bid you, he said. c There 
 is reason, though, for the tone you take. I myself am 
 responsible for it. I will think again, and in time 
 tell you. There is no haste, after all. You are to 
 remember that you are on the parish register as Jean 
 Pendleton Morris, and your mother is never to be 
 shamed by you. But Jean is a man s name in 
 France, I said. Let me go to France a while, and 
 
326 BALLANTYNE 
 
 then it will be easy for other things to happen. 
 Foolish lass, he said, but there was a look that 
 meant a thought. There is a blunder somehow, 
 but you are too young for more words about it now. 
 Double you are, but double must be undone. God 
 knows if I have done right by you, but I did not mind 
 how the time was passing. It s your bigness that, 
 somehow, I never saw really till this day. My grand 
 mother was big like you, five feet ten, and strong, 
 with a man s strength. It s all a puzzle. He went 
 to his room, and locked the door. I knew a battle 
 might come, though, hard as he was, we had never 
 had one. I had always been curious to find out all 
 he knew, to see what he had seen, to question his 
 views. The kirk even, where we went at long inter 
 vals, was no trouble to me. I liked the stiff argument 
 that might have made trouble, and bothered none over 
 what it stood for, so that to him I seemed of one 
 mind with him. 
 
 " He was in his room all that day eating naught, 
 but at night he came out, and took his supper quietly, 
 with long looks at Donald, who was slim and sloping 
 of shoulder. We read that evening Homer. He 
 loved the roll of the Greek, and I hardly less. I love 
 it to-day, and shall till I die, and after. He turned 
 when he had said good night. I give you another 
 year as you will, he said. c Beyond that there is no 
 going. Donald is heir and head of the house, and in 
 the order of nature you must presently be ruled by 
 him. 
 
BALLANTYNE 327 
 
 u I turned my head not to show him I smiled. Not 
 man s law nor the Lord Himself could have made me 
 subject to Donald, and he knew it. We are to 
 have a change, he went on. I shall take you where 
 I went in my own youth, to the Breton coast. 
 They are a hardy folk, and you shall know them as 
 I know them. 
 
 " In a week we were gone ; Angus left in charge, a 
 doddering old man that knew naught but how to serve. 
 There we lived out the year, and I learned how to 
 handle a boat and fish with the best of them. I 
 lived with the fisher-folk till I knew every turn and 
 twist of their minds could even be one of them. 
 And a Breton maid loved me well, and I came to the 
 knowledge of a man s way with a maid, and in pure 
 experiment, meaning no harm, copied the way, and 
 laughed as I saw that I, a maid, had power to bring 
 a blush and a smile that women have not for women. 
 It was there that my father taught me the value of 
 money, my first lesson. Small use, for it is true in 
 that simple life, but more than I had ever known ; and 
 he told me of my mother s little fortune that was 
 mine, and to be handled by me when I was eighteen, 
 a year between me and the right to do as I would. 
 4 Ah, but to see you at Aberdeen ! he said, and it 
 was like a groan. c But that will never be. c It 
 will be, I said under my breath ; but I bide a while. 
 It will come. 
 
 " The year was well over. We had studied with 
 him and with a Breton priest who would fain have 
 
328 BALLANTYNE 
 
 made us Catholic. My father said naught of home. 
 He liked the life, and it kept away thought. And 
 now we began to beg for travel and sight of the 
 world he knew, Donald and me, and he yielded. 
 We went to Rome first, meaning to know all Italy ; 
 but he was too eager mulling among the ruins to go 
 farther. And there, when the year was nearly done, 
 he died, in a day as it were, the Roman fever smoul 
 dering and working in his blood for weeks, till with 
 one burst of it he was snuffed out. I was eighteen 
 the day they buried him. 
 
 u You will see well now why I have told the story 
 of those eighteen years. You feel how life hence 
 forward must have been what I willed it. Donald 
 saw with my eyes. If I chose to go through the 
 course with him so much the better. From that point 
 on, I need trouble you with few more details. I took 
 my degree cum laude. I carried everything before 
 me, and when I had taken it I bound Donald by an 
 oath never to reveal that I was a woman, and he 
 took it as easily as he did all I ordered. We had a 
 friend in common, a man with a huge ambition 
 and a leaning toward Catholicism. Never was state 
 lier head on human shoulders, never a creature that 
 held more power and more gentleness. I loved him 
 first as men love. We were good comrades. In 
 time I loved him as women love, and I, sworn to the 
 life I had chosen, well nigh broke my oath ; so near 
 it, that only a hair s-breadth lay between me and 
 revelation. A woman came between, as weak as 
 
BALLANTYNE 329 
 
 he was strong ; a woman who played with us all, 
 and presently threw him over for Donald, poor, 
 weak Donald, who had the most money. The sor 
 row was that Cameron loved her, but it turned him 
 the way he had half resolved upon long before. 
 Donald married her, and is to-day as blind to her 
 methods as I am clear-seeing. She knows I loathe 
 her, but the reason she does not know. And Cam 
 eron is a Franciscan monk to-day in Italy, and has 
 been for many years. That may be another clue to 
 the present. 
 
 " Aberdeen was not enough. I saw what England 
 meant. I wanted Oxford, and had it. By this time 
 there was barely a being on earth save Donald who 
 could rise up to say I was a cheat. I did my work. 
 I had my friends. I had large life ; more and more 
 life, and, till I met Barbara Ryde, believed most 
 women cheats, all women weak as water, and as 
 unstable. 
 
 u Here comes the thing that has hurt most of all 
 hurts life has brought. She was not, as I soon found, 
 like any woman I had ever met. She had character, 
 directness, power. She loved me from the beginning, 
 and I knew it, and felt myself a wretch, yet gloated 
 over every step of the perilous way. From the 
 world s point of view I was not an impossible 
 match for her. I was in all men s mouths for the 
 work I had done, and they looked for great things to 
 come. I was asked everywhere, and went to get 
 the flavor of this phase of the world s life. I had 
 
330 BALLANTYNE 
 
 some money, and rumor made it more. I had pres 
 ence, a kind of beauty that women liked, and men 
 also. You do not like the type, but others are not 
 of the same mind. And now you are saying, what 
 devil s masquerading was this ? It was no masquer 
 ade, I tell you, or so but on one side. I had lived 
 the man s life, taken the man s point of view. 
 At minutes I wondered if a trace of woman remained 
 in me. To round out the experience, I must know, 
 so far as might be, all subtleties of love. If here I 
 do not understand myself, how shall I make you ? 
 It is enough to say that in spite of my own will, my 
 own struggle against the inevitable, I found myself, 
 one evening at Hetherington, telling her I loved her, 
 and in the strange mingling of emotion holding her 
 to my heart and watching her response as another 
 definition in my dictionary of human life. I knew I 
 must presently escape, and here came the pinch. I 
 could not reveal myself, since in that revelation my 
 ambitions must pass, my future fall in ruins before 
 me. A power not my own, a power that has carried 
 me through every emergency, led me through this. 
 She knew my unceasing curiosity as to life. It did 
 not surprise her that I wished to see and study 
 America. I left her thus, naturally, and by slow 
 degrees the correspondence died. That she presently 
 had to think me a scoundrel has been the bad side of 
 it. Save for my work, I would have told her the 
 truth. In all save this one thing my life is an open 
 book. I have done what came to me as good to do. 
 
BALLANTYNE 331 
 
 I have been hope and strength and stimulus to many 
 minds, a million times beyond the power of woman. 
 It is difficult always to recollect that I am one. The 
 role so strenuously learned is part of my very blood. 
 I am not the fraud you believe. I am honest, and 
 have always wished to be so. The world is for man. 
 As woman, I should utterly have lost its savor, its 
 richness, the sense of conquest and ownership that 
 thrills me as I go. I do not comprehend myself. 
 It is or may be the woman in me that compels mi 
 raculous friendships, fuller in power and charm than 
 most of that that men call loving. They round out and 
 fulfil my conception of living. If they ever fail me, 
 there are always other resources ; but they will not. 
 I know my people and they know me, and the shift 
 ing as it seems to you is the play of the kaleidoscope, 
 more permanent than you think, since, whatever the 
 combination, the essential pieces are always the 
 same. 
 
 " I shall keep, then, my little colony, though the 
 principals in it may change, as change they have more 
 than once. I shall live my life. For its ending I 
 do not concern myself greatly. I have had premoni 
 tions of what it may be. When they are clearer you 
 will hear of me again as gone to Italy, and in that 
 Franciscan convent Cameron will receive my last 
 confession, and, if need arise, placate the outraged 
 monks. In the meantime I have no fear of indis 
 creet revelation on your part. I would have kept 
 you for the work if Fate had not willed otherwise, 
 
332 BALLANTYNE 
 
 for it is the one true seed of true life for this para 
 doxical country. Why your eyes have been unsealed 
 remains a problem to me, but one I need not seek to 
 solve. Later, you will perhaps come to comprehen 
 sion of me and my life. That you cannot to-day 
 does not surprise, and there I leave it." 
 
 All perception of the life about him had been lost 
 as Ballantyne read with an absorption as utter as if 
 this were the first hint of the strange life whose orbit 
 must here and there, in the future, still touch his own. 
 He roused at last to consciousness of things about 
 him as the conductor faced him inquiringly and he 
 saw the empty car, and its passengers making their 
 way toward the waiting ferry-boat. He folded the 
 sheets hastily and thrust them into an inner pocket, 
 then withdrew them as hastily, for his hand had 
 touched a letter written the night before that could 
 have no place side by side with this record of a 
 double life. That life he would judge no longer. 
 Its mystery, its extraordinary involvements, the re 
 sults that still might come, were no longer part of his 
 responsibility ; and as he leaned over the side of the 
 railing he took the confession from his pocket, tore 
 it into minutest fragments, and watched them floating 
 on the outgoing tide with a sense that that passage 
 was over. His own letter he still held thoughtfully, 
 then, as the shore was reached, crossed to the nearest 
 mail-box and dropped it in, his eyes lighting suddenly 
 as the lid closed upon it. 
 
 " That settles my side of the problem," he said 
 
BALLANTYNE 333 
 
 half aloud, and turned down West Street and toward 
 the dock, where the boat lay. Miss Ryde s weekly 
 letter, received a day or so before, had held a para 
 graph which had made him long to take instant pas 
 sage for England, and he had read it over and over. 
 
 " Perhaps," it had ended, " I have no right to 
 speak, but it seems to me the time is nearing when 
 you may and must. As I watch Marion, it becomes 
 plainer to me daily that she has less and less interest 
 in the England she had determined to adopt, and 
 more and more drawing toward the country she for 
 sook. She has had a sheaf of strange experiences 
 here, which she must tell you herself. For the rest, 
 I am certain that if you write, it will clarify the whole 
 turbid, perplexed state of things, and give her the 
 power to decide what she needs ; but as to that, you 
 are final judge, and you only." 
 
 " So be it," said Ballantyne, baring his head for the 
 moment, as his eyes looked far beyond the swarm 
 of people all about; then, with the look of one 
 who knows that good is near, passed on toward the 
 propeller. 
 
Chapter Twelfth 
 
 MISS RYDE had taken her place behind 
 the tall coffee urn of her breakfast 
 table, and looked impatiently toward 
 the open windows through which the 
 light wind of early September blew softly, bringing 
 with it the scent of ingathering harvests and that 
 fainter one of earthiness that carries in it the threat 
 of falling leaf and fading flower, and naked tossing 
 branches, " bare ruined choirs, where once the sweet 
 birds sang." 
 
 To-day such hour seemed far remote. Green and 
 silent stretches of turf swept far under long vistas of 
 shadowing trees. On the gray front of the old house 
 the sunshine fell warm, as it had fallen on generation 
 after generation of dead and gone Hetheringtons, and 
 in the ancient garden at the side, with clipped fanci 
 ful forms of box and sweet old flowers whose names 
 the modern gardener knoweth not, walked a pair at 
 whose figures Barbara Ryde looked with a sniff of 
 scorn. 
 
 u The men are mad, quite mad," she said. " Jane, 
 go and say to Miss Lacy and Mr. Beresford that I 
 am here and waiting." 
 
BALLANTYNE 335 
 
 Jane, the inflexible, had properly no place in the 
 breakfast-room, but her tacitly conceded rights in 
 cluded the privilege of oversight of the teakettle, and 
 a short space in which she waged silent and deter 
 mined war with the butler, who resented with never- 
 assuaged fury her claim to the post-bag, swelling like 
 a turkey cock as he handed it to her, and retreating 
 for what might be called a suppressed but no less furi 
 ous gobble of protest in his own private quarters. 
 
 Miss Ryde smiled grimly as she watched the famil 
 iar pantomime, and having received the bag, which she 
 unlocked herself, repeated her order, in the mean 
 time going over the pile of letters, rising to distrib 
 ute them to the various places with a running com 
 ment as she went. 
 
 " Beresford, two duns and seven invitations. Nor- 
 ris, five from the maddest of his Social Democratic 
 Federation lunatics I know by the extraordinary 
 writing ; and the rest his general series of adorers and 
 inviters in all directions. Eleanor, much the same. 
 Marion, ha ! " 
 
 Miss Ryde paused, and a look of surprise replaced 
 by one of satisfaction was on her face. 
 
 " So ! John has come to his senses at last ! " she 
 said. " He should have done this or he could have 
 done it months ago. It is well perhaps as it is. 
 From the thickness he appears to have made up for 
 lost time. Ha, Beresford ! Will you never learn 
 that water being put over fire at a fixed time, in a 
 fixed way, boils at a fixed minute, and that you who 
 
336 BALLANTYNE 
 
 must have tea after your own theory, must also con 
 form to law if you would drink it after those of your 
 own making ? " 
 
 Mr. Beresford paused in the window, and rumpled 
 again the fiery hair which seemed to have just 
 emerged from a similar process, eying her at the 
 same time with a certain subdued defiance, but he 
 spoke no word. 
 
 " Where is Marion ? " Miss Ryde asked after a 
 moment in which she smiled wickedly. 
 
 " At the bottom of the garden, madam, under the 
 eglantine, and just turning to come in." 
 
 u Where you drove her with another proposal, 
 Beresford. How many does this make ? " 
 
 " Six," returned Beresford, undaunted. " I shall 
 make it in the end." 
 
 " Idiot ! " said Miss Ryde, in her most composed 
 tone. " Lunatic, fool, and blind ! Can you not see 
 she has other thoughts in that head of hers ? " 
 
 " Perfectly, madam, but that does not exclude a 
 few more. I propose to leave with her clear and 
 absolute understanding that if she finds it agreeable 
 to play football with the heart of Beresford, it is 
 entirely at her disposition. I do not as yet seem 
 to have made this perfectly clear, but I do not 
 despair." 
 
 " Football ! " returned Miss Ryde suddenly, pink 
 with indignation. " Will you never understand that 
 whether the thing of rubber you call a heart is in you 
 or not, makes no atom of difference to her ? " 
 
BALLANTYNE 337 
 
 " The thing of rubber has at least one good point, 
 madam. What it encircles, it holds firm." 
 
 " Yes, till something subtler has done its work, and 
 the band snaps when most needed. Your simile was 
 ill-chosen, Beresford. I have gone back to ribbons 
 for my letters and so renounced one more modern 
 inadequacy. So, Marion, you are there at last ? " 
 
 Marion came lightly in, met by one of Beresford s 
 most sweeping bows. 
 
 " My lady comes at last, " he said. " There sits 
 Radamanthia, and the water boils." 
 
 ct It sounds like immediate execution. Indeed, we 
 are too bad to have kept you waiting so," Marion 
 said, smiling softly as she met Miss Ryde s contented 
 look, a look that always came when it fell upon her. 
 She kissed her as she spoke, and Miss Ryde shook 
 her head in a perfunctory way as if to emphasize a 
 general theory as to follies of that nature, and Marion 
 passed to her place, a sudden rising and ebbing of 
 color being the only token of surprise as she looked 
 at the superscription on her letter. 
 
 Beresford had eyed it with keen interest and 
 watched her jealously, piling her plate with cold 
 meats from the sideboard, and more and more urgent 
 as he saw what slight interest breakfast had for her. 
 She answered him as usual, the mixture of persiflage 
 and seriousness that constituted their daily intercourse; 
 but there was a look in the little man s eyes as she 
 finally rose that brought sudden compunction to the 
 keen ones that rested on him. 
 
 22 
 
338 BALLANTYNE 
 
 " It is dead earnest," Miss Ryde thought. " Poor 
 Beresford ! Well, I am not certain he does not de 
 serve it, but it is hard none the less." 
 
 " Come here by me," she said, abruptly. " Beres 
 ford, did you know Lord Auberon had proposed to 
 Marion ? " 
 
 " D n him," Beresford said, under his breath. 
 
 "I should be perfectly reconciled to such a con 
 clusion," Miss Ryde said, calmly, " if it were Ben- 
 ners or Marston or the other one that made his bid 
 for her money. She has even more now, for some 
 old Quaker who died the other day left her all he had, 
 in addition to the comfortable sum she owns already. 
 But Lord Auberon is another matter. He has more 
 than a suspicion of a soul. He thinks and feels, and 
 would worship her. She grows move lovely every 
 day." 
 
 " I know it," Beresford said, with a groan. u I 
 have eyes if I am forty-eight, and I find a sensitive 
 spot still in the thing of rubber." 
 
 Miss Ryde put out her hand, and her friendliest 
 look was upon him. 
 
 " Don t you see," she said, " that the enchantment 
 is over ? Marion is as American to-day as John Bal- 
 lantyne. That is what the year has done for her, 
 and I am glad of it." 
 
 " It is entirely your fault," Beresford said, in 
 sudden wrath. u You have riddled everything with 
 that tongue of yours, till nothing remained sacred 
 or honorable or worthy any more. Yet one year 
 
BALLANTYNE 339 
 
 ago she was to all intents and purposes an English 
 woman." 
 
 u And more shame to her if I do say it," returned 
 Miss Ryde. " But then no less shame to me and to 
 you, and all fools who would have had it last. To 
 tickle our fancy and her own, is she to renounce her 
 birthright, and have no sense of what father land and 
 mother country mean ? She wanted the permanent, 
 the unshifting, Heaven help her ! There is but one 
 permanent and unshifting, and its home is under 
 skies neither your eyes nor mine are to see yet, 
 Beresford." 
 
 " Then she is going back ? You don t mean 
 Is it Ballantyne ? " 
 
 ct Yes, it is Ballantyne," Miss Ryde said. " And 
 now, Ashton Beresford, hold your tongue and go your 
 way in peace." And with sudden remorse at her own 
 unguarded speech she turned abruptly from him and 
 left the room. 
 
 Marion in the meantime had left the house and 
 was making her way to a deep retreat far down the 
 wood, where a group of mighty beeches swept the 
 ground with their branches and made a retreat se 
 cure and inviolable. In the curving hollow of one 
 a back had been constructed, forming a seat with 
 ample space for two. Here she sat down and for 
 a moment looked silently at the letter in her hand. 
 Then with passionate tenderness she pressed it to 
 eyes and lips, and slowly opening it touched the 
 pages softly as if for caress, and read : 
 
340 BALLANTYNE 
 
 u I had said to myself, my Marion, for my Marion 
 you are forever, no matter what will of yours may 
 still lie between, that no word should go from me 
 to you till I stood again in your presence and could 
 know what the year had wrought or left unaccom 
 plished. But the sudden pressure of events, that 
 shall have no room here, has made me turn to you 
 to-night with inexpressible longing, and I write and 
 must write some things that will not wait for speech. 
 With you before me, I should be blind and deaf to 
 anything but the one demand. I want the details, 
 the few that need words, disposed of beforehand. 
 Till now I have held to my agreement. You will 
 forgive me if a few days before the year ends I 
 reach across this space that lies between. 
 
 " Do you think that I have found this time of wan 
 dering up and down, seeking to understand this life 
 that drew me here, an easy one ? Not a day but has 
 held its moments, more often its hours, when my 
 pledge to you has seemed simple madness; when one 
 touch of your hand, one look into your eyes, would 
 have meant all that life can ever hold of happiness. 
 
 " Now before I try to tell you what these months 
 have meant, you must know that I have no argument 
 for my own hope and desire, that you may not use 
 with equal force for your own. I realize this so fully 
 that I hold myself ready for any compromise that 
 will best meet your own need and wish. Where 
 you are is my country, my home, yet you know and 
 I know how deep is the faith that brought me here, 
 
BALLANTYNE 341 
 
 and how I long to have your thought toward it as 
 mine. And now let me write, as I can, what, as the 
 year ends, I find to be its summary. 
 
 " I shall not seek to give here in detail the strange 
 impressions of those first months at home. You 
 know, through the letters to Miss Ryde, that I trav 
 elled constantly, and in many States, with fullest 
 access to every phase of life, from the factory hand 
 or the hod-carrier up to the millionaire. For months 
 I have to confess that the situation seemed to me 
 infinitely worse than anything in England, because 
 here a great thought seemed hopelessly overlaid by 
 aims that meant only the pursuit of the merely 
 material advantage. 
 
 " In England, where the same sordidness and en 
 compassing power of the mercantile spirit is often 
 one s despair, is the more and more certain fact of 
 an enormous movement toward liberty and higher 
 aims. For such aims I seemed here to search in 
 vain. Here and there an individual stood for simple 
 sincerity of thought and life, but below all was the 
 unending chink of the dollar ; and in what is called 
 society, that setting apart of the few from the many, 
 Anglomania ruled, and reversion to a dying type 
 seemed the dearest wish of those who had forgot 
 ten, or even never known, the meaning of the in 
 heritance they failed to claim. 
 
 " This was the first series of impressions, and pro 
 found melancholy settled upon me. With less direct 
 knowledge, perhaps, I saw that your woman s intuition 
 
342 BALLANTYNE 
 
 had given you this phase in full, and knew why you 
 had left it behind you, and sought in the older home 
 the substance instead of the shadow. But gradually, 
 from the crude mass of unassorted impressions, other 
 forms arose, undefined still, but with promise in their 
 outline. But I doubted much if the life an American 
 citizen should naturally live could be lived either in 
 the mart or in the midst of the indifference and dead 
 level of mediocrity, which seems one result of the 
 present form of education. 
 
 " It was at this point that I went to the little com 
 munity, details of which, for many reasons, I have 
 never given, It had seemed to demonstrate itself 
 that the individual in whom faith remained must 
 isolate himself and live his life apart from the mass, 
 since a machine controlled politics, and for thinker, 
 artist, or author retreat was the sole resource in a 
 society that cared only nominally for their doings. 
 
 " Such conclusion had come to the head of the com 
 munity, a man of singular power in many directions, 
 who sought to bring about him a group of like mind, 
 and who had a species of monastery in the country, 
 yet near enough to keep in touch with the best in 
 New York. Here all relations of the citizen to the 
 State were to be lived out, and the ideal made the 
 substance of daily thought and work. 
 
 " For a time, sceptically as I watched it all, it even 
 seemed to me that in life of this nature might be the 
 solution for all. Then as fuller knowledge came, 
 its deep and utter selfishness grew more and more 
 
BALLANTYNE 343 
 
 apparent. So far from making loyalty more possible, 
 it rendered disloyalty inevitable. From every com 
 mon need and want was entire separation. Family 
 life had no place. Contempt, criticism, cold aloof 
 ness, hedged us about. With this I saw also much 
 of society, and now and then had glimpses of better 
 life underlying it and plain in faces that I encountered 
 here and there. 
 
 " It became certain that this man Morris had failed 
 to grasp the meaning that still remained, and his sum 
 mary of every struggle since the War of Independence 
 as a mere fight for easiest methods of filling the 
 treasury came to be to me mere froth and dogmatism. 
 With all the good that went with his scheme went 
 always a fatal ignoring of any but the individual right. 
 The many were mere canaille, and went to their own 
 place. The c Brotherhood of the Heights had no 
 place for those who must dwell in the valley, and 
 against such separation I revolted more and more. 
 It was the daily observation of a selfish absorption, 
 often unconscious, but pervading the entire scheme, 
 that brought me by degrees to see the possibilities of 
 natural living among men ; and when this was plain 
 again, though its methods were still filled with diffi 
 culties, I left them for a time, and at my cousin s old 
 home found an American so ardent, so simple and 
 sincere, that suddenly I saw that under the Philistine 
 garb that this century of material effort has woven 
 and ordained for most, the same heart might often 
 beat. 
 
344 BALLANTYNE 
 
 " In him, in his sons, in those who came and went 
 with him, I saw that if money sometimes meant 
 much, honor and loyalty meant more, and that in the 
 mass I had doubted or scorned or feared lay dormant 
 a faith and an abounding energy, that in any crisis 
 would unite as one and meet the call for sacrifice, for 
 death if needed. You and I alike have called it 
 crude, shifting, uncertain, ignoble. You and I have 
 felt together that the Republic, save as a name, had 
 nearly ceased to exist, and lay prone under the wheels 
 of the enormous Juggernaut, the political machine, in 
 which the Irishman, incapable of rule at home, finds 
 with surprised delight a kingdom where his reckless, 
 conscienceless impulses are allowed fullest play. He 
 dominates the cities. He does not dominate the 
 people as a whole. 
 
 " Our healing lies yet in shadow, but it is near. 
 Neither in democracy nor in aristocracy can it be 
 found, but in the conscience and heart of thousands 
 who watch the voice will speak, and a wider, wiser 
 humanity begin. What we want, but here are 
 words that speak more clearly than mine the need 
 and the outcome ; words of an American noblest of 
 all, for they are Lowell s : 
 
 tc What we want is an active class, who will insist, 
 in season and out of season, that we shall have a 
 country whose greatness is measured not only by its 
 square miles, its number of yards woven, of hogs 
 packed, of bushels of wheat raised ; not only by its 
 skill to feed and clothe the body, but also by its 
 
BALLANTYNE 345 
 
 power to feed and clothe the soul ; a country which 
 shall be as great morally as it is materially ; a country 
 whose very name shall not only, as it now does, stir 
 us as with the sound of a trumpet, but shall call out 
 all that is best within us, by offering us the radiant 
 image as something better and nobler and more 
 enduring than we ; of something that shall fulfil our 
 own thwarted aspirations, when we are but a handful 
 of forgotten dust in the soil trodden by a race whom 
 we shall have helped to make more worthy of their 
 inheritance than we ourselves had the power, I might 
 almost say the means, to be. 
 
 " My Marion, it is this life I would live. It is this 
 life I would have you love and share. Come back 
 with me to your own, dearest child of a race whose 
 love for country never slackened, and whose faith is 
 no less living in you whose despair has been the 
 noble despair of a noble soul. Feel it still you may, 
 perhaps must, but in moments only. The hope of 
 the nations, the hope of every waiting soul, is here. 
 I am coming for you. You will return with me, and 
 here in the old home, in that noblest city that noblest 
 feet have trod, whose air, no matter what earthy 
 damps and mists may rise, still throbs with great 
 thoughts and glorious acts, there we shall live and 
 work, secure in the faith that the foundations laid by 
 steady hands and minds that could not falter endure 
 and must endure forever. Come home with me, my 
 Marion, and in coming know that the older home is 
 also ours, and that both are our inheritance." 
 
346 BALLANTYNE 
 
 Marion read the closely written sheets once, twice, 
 then folded them gently, and, still holding them in her 
 hand, sat motionless and lost in thought, with unsee 
 ing eyes fixed on the fair English landscape before 
 her. Doubt had vanished. Perplexities had ended. 
 " I have been a prig a prig of the most detestable 
 order," she said at last, rising from her seat, a new 
 look on her face. " That alone is answer sufficient, 
 for it sums up my year. I had to find it out, though, 
 and he will understand." 
 
C hapter Thirteenth 
 
 1 
 
 light blue haze that had rested over 
 the marshes as Ballantyne had looked 
 his last toward them deepened as they 
 went, and when the hour of starting 
 found him on board the Providence boat a gathering 
 fog rested on harbor and shipping, and made their 
 way out to the East River a slow and uncertain pas 
 sage. Once past Hell Gate, however, and in the open 
 sound, the channel was clear ; and though the whistle 
 sounded at regular intervals, the fog did not thicken, 
 and their way seemed unobstructed. 
 
 As he went on board the voice of a child had called 
 out suddenly : " Papa ! papa ! Oh, mamma ! Papa 
 is coming ! " and he looked up to see the faces of 
 two boys, of five and six, or seven perhaps, who 
 waved their hands and cried again as they met 
 his eyes : 
 
 " Mamma, it is papa." 
 
 Some one drew them away, looking over for a 
 moment, with a little flush and smile, a delicate high 
 bred face, and when he went out to the upper deck 
 he found them still there, and the oldest boy ran 
 to him. 
 
34 8 BALLANTYNE 
 
 u What makes you look so like our papa ? " he 
 said. "You are not, I can see now, but I didn t 
 see at first." 
 
 u Come here, Philip," the mother said ; but Ballan- 
 tyne s arm was around him as he heard the name, 
 and the child moved closer with a look toward the 
 mother that begged permission to stay. 
 
 " Let me have him for a while, if you will," Bal- 
 lantyne said, for name and age both recalled the little 
 brother bound up with every memory of his child 
 hood. The mother smiled assent, and the shyer 
 child who had lingered by her presently joined them. 
 The night was warm and close, and Ballantyne, who 
 had brought a small basket of choice peaches, pre 
 ferred them to supper in the stifling cabin below, and 
 shared them with the children, whose delicate, beauti 
 ful faces were like the mother s, and who had soon 
 told him why they were there. Papa was sick, very 
 sick, the oldest said, and in Providence, where he had 
 stayed at home while they went to Long Island, and 
 now they were going to him, because he could not get 
 well without his two boys. 
 
 " We shall take care of him," Philip said, proudly. 
 " I love him so much he 11 have to get well, you 
 know. Mamma says love cures everything in the 
 world." 
 
 " Mamma is right," Ballantyne answered. 
 
 " Of course," the child went on. " Mamma 
 is always right. When I get angry with little 
 John" 
 
BALLANTYNE 349 
 
 " Philip and John ! " Ballantyne repeated, and he 
 looked at them with sudden apprehension, unaccount 
 able to himself. 
 
 " Little John, but not Johnny," the child went on. 
 " Mamma wants all our whole name because she likes 
 them. Do you like them ? " 
 
 u Very much, for one is my own name, and the 
 other was my own little brother s long ago." 
 
 " Tell me about him," Philip urged, " Where is 
 he ? Is he big and tall like you ? " 
 
 u He must be, Philip, for he is almost as old as I. 
 He went to heaven a great while ago, when he was 
 only as old as you," Ballantyne answered, the earnest 
 face and dark eyes of the child seeming almost Philip s 
 own. The mother came presently to take them to 
 bed, and they threw their arms about his neck and 
 hugged him close. 
 
 " I love you, I love you," the small lips said. 
 " Will you be here in the morning ? Good night, 
 good night." 
 
 Ballantyne s eyes followed them. His love for 
 children was instinctive. 
 
 "No wonder the father pines for them," he 
 thought ; and then as there came before him the 
 vision of what might be, a vision which as it some 
 times rose he had shut resolutely away, he gave it 
 full dominion. For him, too, might be the arms of 
 clinging children and kisses quite his own, to make 
 him glad. The fog had lifted. Behind them the wake 
 lay white and glistening, and the sky was clear above. 
 
35 o BALLANTYNE 
 
 " The night in silence under many a star, 
 
 The ocean shore and the husky whispering wave whose voice 
 
 I know, 
 
 And the soul turning to thee, O vast and well-veiled Death, 
 And the body gratefully nestling close to thee." 
 
 The words seemed to come of themselves. He 
 spoke them half aloud, and started at the sound. 
 
 " It is life, more life, not death, that I want," he 
 said, low. " It is the shadow of poor Regnault s fate 
 that is on me to-night, and that will hardly pass till I 
 see Marion again." And he went to his state-room 
 to forget in sleep all that the day had brought. 
 
 How long he slept he could not tell. He woke 
 suddenly from the dream that in childhood had come 
 so often, the memory of the shipwreck, and the long 
 night in which they huddled together on the deck, till 
 in the gray twilight of early morning, the shore rising 
 dim beyond, the gray old sailor who had held his post 
 at their side said to them, " It s time. This is the 
 best chance." Then his father s face had suddenly 
 shown itself, pale and set but very quiet, as when he 
 bound the younger to his shoulders and held John in 
 his arm ready for that leap to the black water below. 
 " Hold fast, my little Philip. Keep your head up all 
 the time, and father will bring you to shore. Be 
 brave, my little John, and don t struggle. Father 
 will hold you safe." Then came the plunge; the 
 long, long sinking and uprising; the leaping waves, 
 the struggle, and a crash and cry as something ground 
 and tore and splintered, and threw him to the floor. 
 
BALLANTYNE 351 
 
 He staggered up, the horror of the dream still upon 
 him ; but a moment sufficed to collect himself, to 
 grope hastily for clothing, and feel his way through the 
 saloon to the deck, where in the dimness of earliest 
 morning he saw what destruction had been wrought. 
 The iron-clad prow of a powerful propeller had cut 
 its way, in the collision, almost to the centre of 
 their boat, which was already settling lower and lower. 
 Then came the mad panic of creatures in whom only 
 terror remained alive. The few boats lowered by the 
 sailors sank to the thwarts as men flung themselves 
 down, or fell back sullenly as the captain raged at 
 them, demanding place for the women and children. 
 Ballantyne looked for a moment, then turned sud 
 denly. The mother with her two boys was not 
 there; and he made his way down again and toward 
 the state-room, whose neighborhood to his own he 
 had noted the night before. A gleam of light came 
 from within, and as he knocked and called, the door 
 opened, and the mother s face, pale and quiet, showed 
 itself. 
 
 "Do not frighten them," she said. "I had a 
 candle. I have dressed them partly, and am ready 
 now. I have told them we shall go ashore, God 
 knows how," she added, "but you will help us." 
 
 "There is no time to lose," he said, taking the 
 younger in his arms ; and together they made their 
 way to the deck. Here Ballantyne s swift hands 
 bound together three or four chairs, and now he fast 
 ened a life preserver securely about the mother, lashed 
 
352 BALLANTYNE 
 
 her in turn to the frail raft, and bound the younger 
 child in her arms with a light shawl knotted fast. 
 
 " Have courage," he said, " the shore is not far 
 away, and something will soon pick you up. I shall 
 be near with Philip, and we shall all of us soon be 
 there, and safe." 
 
 Even as he spoke he knew the last moments of 
 safety were past, and with one final charge, " Hold 
 fast and do not be afraid," had let them go. Then 
 something rushed by him as he rose again, and a fig 
 ure that had sunk in a heap on the deck, groaning 
 and praying abjectly, followed with a leap, clutch 
 ing wildly as he came to the surface at the chance of 
 life. 
 
 Ballantyne had leaped, guarding against the danger 
 of rising under the vessel, and now, an easy and 
 powerful swimmer, made his way hampered by the 
 child he had fastened securely as might be to his 
 back. To reach the frail raft that held the mother, 
 and to beat ofF the creature who tried to climb to it, 
 and clutched at last with a shriek at a plank that 
 floated near, was the first task and one at which he 
 sickened. In the swirl and suck of the sinking ship 
 lay the next danger, but the wind had already shifted 
 and blew steadily toward the shore, a faint gray line 
 barely a mile away. 
 
 " I shall make for that shore," Ballantyne said. 
 u There are boats there, and you will soon be safe. 
 Philip isn t afraid. He knows we shall get there." 
 " I m not afraid because mamma isn t," little John 
 
BALLANTYNE 353 
 
 said, opening the eyes he had shut tight in terror, 
 and smiling at Philip, who clung silently and said no 
 word. 
 
 u You are sure you have strength ? " the mother 
 said. " Is n t it better to hold to this ? " 
 
 " I shall till the last of it is over," Ballantyne 
 replied. " It is coming now." 
 
 He closed his eyes as he spoke, for a shriek had 
 gone up from the few who had refused to leap, and 
 who made a mad rush forward as the ship slowly 
 settled, till with a sudden convulsive quiver she 
 plunged, and for a long moment only the whirl of 
 waves was above her. Then to the surface came 
 struggling heads and arms, fragments of plank, or 
 floating cabin furniture, and one poor dog who 
 howled mournfully as he swam. Here and there 
 one caught at something floating near and came to 
 presence of mind. Here and there drowning wretches 
 clutched each other and went down battling together, 
 and through it all Ballantyne saw only the wide, 
 terror-stricken eyes of the child, who looked in hor 
 ror toward them. Then there was silence, and in 
 the sick giddiness that came upon him he knew only 
 that he must reach the shore and find means of rescue 
 for those that remained. 
 
 " I should not leave you if I were not sure it would 
 mean swifter help," he said. " You understand ? " 
 
 " God bless you," the mother said, softly ; and he 
 struck out toward the shore, breasting the sullen 
 waves and making steady headway toward the flash- 
 
 23 
 
3 54 BALLANTYNE 
 
 ing light on the long point he sought to reach. To 
 the day of his death Ballantyne will remember that 
 slow passage toward life ; the sweep of waves as the 
 wind rushed about him, the long gasp and clutch of 
 the brave little soul who gave no other token of 
 fear, and his own terror as now and then the little 
 head fell and he cried to him, " Hold up your head, 
 Philip ! we are almost there. The water shall not 
 hurt you." 
 
 His own strength was less than he had thought. 
 The strokes had less power. There seemed some 
 undercurrent that bore him back, and he paused with 
 sudden doubt. The shore was near. As he trod 
 water for a moment he saw the low line of rocks, 
 and on the point a man who waved his arms and 
 shouted encouragingly. He pushed on nearer and 
 nearer, till at last with one supreme effort he flung 
 himself forward, conscious only of sudden sharp pain, 
 and the feeling of hands that held and pulled him in. 
 
 " The child ; see to the child," he gasped, and then 
 came blackness into which he fell and knew no more. 
 
 Ballantyne opened his eyes at last with determined 
 effort. The sound of the waves was in his ears, but 
 warmth and cessation of struggle had come. 
 
 "The child; see to the child," he said, for a 
 weight seemed still about his neck, and he moved 
 uneasily and tried to lift his head, held down by 
 something. 
 
 "Those were his last conscious words," a voice 
 
BALLANTYNE 355 
 
 said ; and another deeper one replied with a ring of 
 joy, " He is safe, madam ; he is back at the point 
 where consciousness ended, and goes on from there." 
 
 Ballantyne s lids had fallen again. They were 
 heavy and required deliberate action, but they obeyed, 
 and he looked full into the face of the child who 
 stood near him, wide-eyed and solemn, yet with a 
 dawning smile. 
 
 " Little Philip ? " he said slowly, and tried once 
 more to look about. " Then we are in heaven." 
 
 He stopped, bewildered. u Why do you come as 
 a child ? " he said. " They grow here." 
 
 " I am Philip : don t you know ? You brought 
 me to shore," the child said, and flung his arms about 
 him and kissed him with warm lips that held life. 
 
 It was plain again. Life and not death was there ; 
 and now Ballantyne looked about him, strangely weak 
 but remembering, and met the keen eyes of a gray- 
 headed man who looked at him reassuringly, and the 
 delicate face, pale still, but with deepest happiness in 
 the gaze, of the mother he had left waiting for the 
 help he sought. 
 
 " Thank God, you are quite yourself," she said, 
 with her hand for a moment on his. " Now you will 
 soon be well." 
 
 " Well ? " he repeated vaguely ; and now he put 
 up his hand to his head, rinding bandages about it. 
 
 " A small fracture, but a pretty serious one," the 
 gray-headed man said. " I am the doctor, Dr. Ger- 
 shom. We managed to get you here, but it has been 
 
35 6 BALLANTYNE 
 
 a bit doubtful how you were coming out. No doubt 
 now. You 11 be on your feet in a few days." 
 " Here ? What is here ? " 
 
 " Providence. You are in John Bartram s house. 
 This girl you saved for us is my daughter Lucy. 
 These boys are my grandchildren. We owe you 
 several lives, but you will be content to come into 
 full possession of one." 
 
 " You must get me on my feet at once," Ballan- 
 tyne said, decisively, trying to rise and finding it 
 impossible. "I sail on Saturday." 
 
 "You may sail when you will when you are 
 stronger. Now there is a little waiting to be 
 done." 
 
 But, doctor, I must go, if I have to be carried on 
 board. The day was fixed. I cannot break it." 
 
 A door had opened in the next room. There was 
 a moment s delay, and then Mrs. LeBaron came 
 swiftly in and bent over him, tears in her eyes, but 
 with smiling lips. 
 
 " Dear, dear John," she said. " You have lain here 
 almost ten days. Your ship went without you." 
 
 For a moment Ballantyne closed his eyes, and turned 
 away his face. Then he opened them with eager 
 entreaty. 
 
 " Cable," he said, low. tc You know what to say. 
 Cable that I was ill and could not come, but shall." 
 
 " I have," Mrs. LeBaron said ; " and I have writ 
 ten. They understand. Now sleep, and when you 
 wake I will talk as much as you like." 
 
BALLANTYNE 357 
 
 She laid her firm, cool hand on his eyes, and 
 quiet passed from it into every nerve. He swal 
 lowed mechanically something put between his 
 lips, and reaching to the hand, held it close and fell 
 asleep. 
 
 When he awoke the sun was shining and he was 
 alone, with memory clear and full, and every sense 
 alert and vigorous. He could move now, for the curi 
 ous torpor had passed away, and he looked about the 
 room, seeing a figure in the deep window, which turned 
 and showed Mrs. LeBaron s face. 
 
 " You are quite back again ? " she said, as she came 
 to him and bent over him. " A very different night 
 from those that have gone before. You slept like an 
 angel, and now when you are redd up a little you shall 
 have breakfast, a real breakfast, and not the con 
 densed substitutes Dr. Gershom has been pouring 
 down." 
 
 Her eyes were full of gladness as she busied herself 
 about him, a look he had never seen on her face. 
 The children came in when the tray had been taken 
 away, and he sat up, gaunt and haggard still, but quite 
 alive, and held Philip close as he climbed on the bed 
 and crept into his arms, the shadow of terror still 
 showing in his dark eyes. 
 
 " I dreamed about it," he whispered; but mamma 
 told me I should n t much more. She said she knew, 
 even when the biggest waves came, that we should 
 get to shore, and then the boat went out and got her 
 and John, the boat from the lighthouse, you know. 
 
358 BALLANTYNE 
 
 But I could n t speak to them either for a little while, 
 because I was all full of waves, you know. I did hold 
 up my head all the way, cept just a little." 
 
 " Brave little soul ! " Ballantyne said, with a 
 sudden strange thrill as if another presence were 
 there. 
 
 " It is the end of any doom my poor mother 
 believed must come," he thought. " Whatever spell 
 her mind wove for itself or for me is broken. Life, 
 and not death, has come out of the sea." 
 
 " Papa is getting well. He can walk across the 
 room. He will come to see you when he can go a 
 little farther. I have got to go now and tell him how 
 you are. I said I would ; " and Philip slid down and 
 tiptoed from the room. 
 
 " Tell me how you knew," Ballantyne said, as 
 Mrs. LeBaron sat down by him. 
 
 " From the pocket-book you had fastened inside 
 the loose undervest. A note from me was in it, and 
 it happened that Dr. Gershom and I were old 
 acquaintances. He wrote me, and I came at once. 
 The fracture was slight. You got it as you threw 
 yourself forward in that last tremendous effort. The 
 lighthouse keeper said he thought your skull had gone 
 like an eggshell, and you lay in such death-like sense 
 lessness, there was hardly a token of life till Dr. 
 Gershom got here. The collision was only a few 
 miles from Providence, and the only way seemed to 
 get you there. An ambulance came out and brought 
 you here, and here you have come to yourself just 
 
BALLANTYNE 359 
 
 where these worshipping people would have you. 
 And now, John, I have something for you. It is a 
 cable dispatch. Can you read it ? " 
 
 A deep flush came into Ballantyne s pale face. 
 He put out his hand, and as Mrs. LeBaron went 
 toward the window, his still uncertain fingers unfolded 
 the yellow strip, and he read under the date, " Friday, 
 September nineteenth. Sail on the twentieth by the 
 Baltic with Marion. Barbara Ryde." 
 
 " Did you beg her to do this ? " he said, with 
 sudden fire. " I will not have her back on those 
 terms. She shall not come because mere pity brings 
 her." 
 
 "Oh, foolish John; true to your sex," Mrs. 
 LeBaron said, as she met his wrathful eyes. " I did 
 not beg. I believe I had no need to beg. I wrote 
 but a page, and I said in it only that you could not 
 sail at the appointed time, because you had nearly 
 lost your life saving others." 
 
 " But that was tacit appeal," he said. " I wish I 
 might have gone to them, though it is possible 
 it can t be possible ! " 
 
 He stopped short a moment, and his eyes searched 
 her face. 
 
 " I had written," he said. " I wrote all that paper 
 would hold of what I meant to say. Perhaps it is 
 that she answers in this way. But how shall one 
 know ? Does any one here know ? " 
 
 u No one but you and me." 
 
 He was silent, and turned away his head as if to 
 
360 BALLANTYNE 
 
 sleep, and Mrs. LeBaron retreated with a smile he 
 did not see. 
 
 " Doubt as you like, poor boy," she said to herself. 
 " I think I have blundered in telling you too soon, 
 but the issues no man need question." 
 
 For the days that followed a resolute silence lay 
 between them. Ballantyne gained hourly, but a great 
 restlessness was upon him, and he watched every 
 token of cloud or wind with anxiety illy veiled. But 
 the days went on toward the equinoctial, each sunny 
 and warm as if no storm were near, and at last came 
 one in which he read that the " Baltic " had passed 
 Fire Island, and waited in the same silence for what 
 further was to come. 
 
 Through a night of sleeplessness and tossing he 
 heard the wind howl and the heavy rain beat against 
 the windows, and when he had dressed, weak still, 
 but quite himself, and pushed away the breakfast that 
 would not be eaten, he took a book and tried to 
 read. 
 
 Through the falling rain came presently the sound 
 of wheels. A carriage had stopped. There were 
 voices, and a delay that seemed an eternity. Then 
 the door opened, and he turned toward it a face ashy 
 pale, and Marion was there. For a moment she 
 stood silent. Then, pale as he, she came forward 
 and bent toward him, and her eyes were full of, 
 something at which pulses leaped and every nerve 
 answered her. But as his arms stretched and would 
 hold her they dropped. 
 
BALLANTYNE 361 
 
 " I will not have it for pity," he said. " If that is 
 all, you must go back to your own." 
 
 " But how, when I come for love ? " she said ; but 
 his eyes even then searched hers silently. 
 
 " I will never go back," she said, " because this is 
 my own place, and I want life here. O John ! don t 
 you see that I believe it ? " 
 
 For a moment his eyes were on her with a question 
 that shook him as he looked. Then he drew her to 
 him, and as his lips met hers, knew at last that what 
 ever doubt or perplexity life must still hold, such 
 solving as man may know would be together. 
 
NEW FICTION 
 
 Sir Christopher 
 
 A Romance of a Maryland Manor in 1644. By MAUD WIL 
 DER GOODWIN, author of "The Head of a Hundred," 
 "White Aprons," etc. Illustrated by Howard Pyle and other 
 artists. I2mo. Decorated cloth. $1.50. 
 
 THE events of the new historical romance by the author of 
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 reappear in its pages. It is highly dramatic, full of incident, and 
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 Like Mrs. Goodwin s previous stories, however, it is more than a 
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 Or, The Life Romantic. By RICHARD LE GALLIENNE, 
 author of "The Book Bills of Narcissus," etc. i2mo. Dec 
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 THIS delightful story is told with the author s usual literary 
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 Ballantyne 
 
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 ANEW and distinctively American story, with a distinctively 
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 Its hero, Ballantyne, though American by inheritance, has been 
 brought up in an English home by a mother whose one wish is that 
 he shall never visit America. But to Ballantyne America has been 
 an ideal, and to him it stands for everything which is free and high. 
 A novel and original part of the story is the vivid description of the 
 "Brotherhood" in New Jersey where Ballantyne visited, much 
 such a community as Laurence Oliphant once lived in. There are 
 also glimpses of Plymouth and Nantucket. 
 
NEW FICTION 
 Truth Dexter 
 
 A Romance of North and South. By SIDNEY McCALL. 
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 THIS is a new American society story, entertaining from begin 
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 trasted with a clever society woman is Truth Dexter, an unlessoned 
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 study of great delicacy. The old plantation life is made very real, 
 and the novel ends in a sweet, tender, human way. 
 
 A Daughter of New France 
 
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 Colony on the Detroit. By MARY CATHERINE CROW- 
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 cloth. $1.50. 
 
 THIS brilliant story opens up a new field in American historical 
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 the early days of the French settlement of Detroit. 
 
 "It is the object of this narrative," says the author, "to go 
 back to the treasure-houses of French-Canadian history, Quebec 
 and Montreal ; to sketch the society of the city of Champlain at 
 the end of the seventeenth and the beginning of the eighteenth 
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 The Master-Knot of Human Fate 
 
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 its sole characters who live and move through its pages. 
 
NEW FICTION 
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 A CLEVER and humorous story in dialogue j the subject is the 
 first visit to Paris of a New York business man. 
 
 The Head of a Hundred in the 
 Colony of Virginia, 1622 
 
 By MAUD WILDER GOODWIN, author of "White 
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 Edition. With a colored miniature by Jessie Willcox Smith, 
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 From Kingdom to Colony 
 
 By MARY DEVEREUX. Illustrated by Henry Sandham. 
 i2mo. Decorated Cloth. $1.50. Twelfth Thousand. 
 
 We had not proceeded far into the story before we found ourselves deeply 
 absorbed in it, not only because of the rapid movement of the plot, but 
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 The work of the minute-men, of the scouts and the Marblehead fishermen, 
 takes on an entirely new and thrilling interest when shown as figuring in the 
 destinies of such characters. Beacon, Boston. 
 
 For the Queen in South Africa 
 
 By CARYL DAVIS RASKINS. i6mo. $1.00. 
 
 Currita, Countess of Albornoz 
 
 A Novel of Madrid Society. By LUIS COLOMA. Trans 
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 Its pages teem with evidences of a close study of men and women. The 
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 A Romance of the Court of Nero. By WILHELM WAL- 
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 3d Edition. 
 
NEW FICTION 
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 Ne<w York Times. 
 
 In "The Knights of the Cross," Sienkiewicz is at his best. It is full of 
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 follows with breathless interest the fortunes of the hero. Pall Mall Gazette. 
 
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 grace. Providence Telegram. 
 
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 BRADLEY OILMAN. i6mo. $1.00. Second Edition. 
 
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