THEN CAME 
 CARD LIN 
 
 
 HORN RICHARDS

 
 THEN CAME CAEOLINE 
 
 . OF CALIF. LIBRARY, LOS AHGELES
 
 'But most of all I want to live to understand 
 people." FRONTISPIECE. See page 301.
 
 THEN CAME CAROLINE 
 
 BY 
 LELA HORN RICHARDS 
 
 WITH ILLUSTRATIONS BY 
 
 M. L. GREER 
 
 BOSTON 
 
 LITTLE, BROWN, AND COMPANY 
 1921
 
 Copyright, 1921, 
 BY LITTLE, BROWN, AND COMPANY. 
 
 All rights reserved 
 Published October, 1921 
 
 PRINTED IN THE UNITED STATES OF AMERICA
 
 ANNA COLBURN PLUMMER 
 To you, good friend, 
 
 and 
 
 To the long years of happy and profitable 
 comradeship. 
 
 2132558
 
 CONTENTS 
 
 CHAPTER PAGE 
 
 I. AN INTERRUPTED DRAMA 1 
 
 II. CAROLINE COGITATES 16 
 
 III. FAMILY AFFAIRS 29 
 
 IV. CAROLINE FARES FORTH 37 
 
 Y. THE WANDERER EETURNS 59 
 
 VI. THE NEW HOME 71 
 
 VII. ADJUSTMENTS 83 
 
 VIII. OLD MR. TIME 94 
 
 IX. NEW FRIENDS 108 
 
 X. ALISON ENTERTAINS 120 
 
 XI. IN THE TOWER 134 
 
 XII. CAROLINE ATTENDS A BALL 149 
 
 XIII. MADAME WAKEFIELD 164 
 
 XIV. THREE YEARS LATER 176 
 
 XV. THE MADAME VIEWS AUNT CAROLINE. 191 
 
 XVI. ALISON EETURNS 205 
 
 XVII. MAUMY HAS A SECRET 219 
 
 XVIII. A WEDDING 232 
 
 XIX. CHANGES 248 
 
 XX. CAROLINE GOES LARKING 259 
 
 XXL MAUMY GOES VISITING 270 
 
 XXII. ALF MAKES A DISCOVERY 281 
 
 XXIII. CAROLINE DECIDES 294
 
 ILLUSTRATIONS 
 
 " BUT MOST OF ALL I WANT TO LIVE TO 
 
 UNDERSTAND PEOPLE." Frontispiece 
 
 PAGE 
 
 " WE WEEE ACTING THE GAKDEN OF EDEN/' .... 9 
 
 " YOU WILL COME ? " HE ASKED 181 
 
 MADAME STUDIED THE PORTRAIT FOR SOME 
 
 MINUTES . . 200
 
 THEN CAME CAROLINE 
 
 CHAPTER I 
 
 AN INTERRUPTED DRAMA 
 
 MAUM RACHEL parted the faded velvet 
 curtains that sheltered the drawing- 
 room from the great, draughty hall and 
 put an anxious face through the rift. 
 
 "Miss Em'bly," she called softly. "Miss 
 Em'bly, please, ma'am, come here a minute!" 
 
 Mrs. RaveneFs small white hands fluttering 
 over the teacups paused for a moment. She 
 turned an inquiring face toward the curtains. 
 There was a shade of annoyance on her usually 
 serene countenance, just a shade, for it was 
 contrary to Kirtley precedents to show irrita- 
 tion in company, to lose for an instant the stately 
 poise that had descended like a mantle from past 
 generation 
 
 "Out here, please, Miss Em'bly. I got to speak 
 to you." 
 
 Smiling excuses to her guests, Emily Ravenel 
 crossed the long room and stood within the hall.
 
 2 THEN CAME CAROLINE 
 
 "It's Miss Car'line agin, Miss Em'bly," Rachel 
 began, her thick lip with its pale yellow lining 
 protruding angrily. "Rufus ain't no sooner 
 opened the front door on Miz Colfax and Miss 
 Rose, when she begin troopin' up all the chillun 
 in the neighborhood. She's out on the woodpile, 
 zaggeratin' agin, for all she's worth, scarin' them 
 no-count Jilsen kids to spasms with her yarns 
 'bout de debil and de deep seas. Betty Fairfield 
 got to yellin' so her mother come and took her 
 home. She say she cain't never come over here 
 no more. No, ma'am ! not ef Good Lord! 
 What 'at?" 
 
 An agonizing scream rising on the still Sep- 
 tember air pierced its way from the back yard 
 to the portals of the blue drawing-room. 
 
 Mrs. Ravenel's face whitened; involuntarily 
 her eyes lifted to the chamber on the landing 
 above. A chamber that was kept singularly free 
 from disturbance, especially at this hour of the 
 afternoon when Doctor Ravenel took his custom- 
 ary rest. 
 
 Rachel, outraged and belligerent, started for 
 the kitchen, her torn carpet slippers slapping 
 the bare floors testily. 
 
 "Dat chile suttanly is gwine be de death of 
 her poor sick Paw," she muttered, trying to Tseep 
 up with Mrs. Ravenel's quickened steps. "She 
 suttanly "
 
 AN INTERRUPTED DRAMA 3 
 
 A frightened mulatto girl of some sixteen 
 years interrupted the prophecy. 
 
 "It's Willie Boland," she said, her words com- 
 ing in a torrent. "Miss Car'line, she done make 
 believe the woodpile was the Red Sea. She had 
 'em all a-crossin,' and when they get a good 
 start she yell 'sharks;' and that poor white 
 trash Jilsen girl she push Willie, and he fell on 
 the saw Rufus lef on a log, and he cut his face 
 and hurt his laig " 
 
 Rachel's hands shot above her head indig- 
 nantly. 
 
 "Red Sea!" she snorted, moving on to the 
 kitchen. "I knew last Sunday, when Miss Em'bly 
 taken her to meetin' agin, they'd be the debil to 
 pay. I knew she'd be a-res'rectin' Daniel in his 
 den, or feedin' the multitude outen my fresh 
 bakin'. Nobody ever knows what she's gwine 
 try next." 
 
 "She ain't been to meetin' fer some time, is 
 she?" Judy speculated. "Not since the day 
 she blew out the candles the altar boys was 
 carryin' up the aisle " 
 
 In spite of her wrath, Maum Rachel chuckled 
 heartily, and her heavy shoulders shook with 
 mirth. 
 
 "Lord save us, that nearly combust de congre- 
 gation, sure miff! And Miss Em'bly plum in- 
 nercent of what her chile was a-doin' till the
 
 4 THEN CAME CAROLINE 
 
 minister stop dead in his tracks and frown down 
 on her Who all been in my cooky jar?" 
 
 "Miss Caroline. She had to get up a lunch 
 fer de chillun to carry with 'em crost the sea. 
 That was the only way she could get 'em to 
 cross." Judy's lips broke in a slow smile. 
 
 Willie's screams had dwindled to a moan when 
 Mrs. Ravenel reached the long back yard that 
 stretched in an irregular triangle to the lap of 
 the low Virginia hills. 
 
 At the first outcry on that still afternoon, 
 there had been a swift scuttling of frightened 
 feet, an exodus of "trash" and "gentry," for 
 Caroline, cosmopolite from the soles of her im- 
 pudent, high-arched, Kirtley feet, to the crown 
 of her wavy, sun-burned hair, had established a 
 democracy that was at once the bane and the 
 admiration of the neighborhood. 
 
 The yard was deserted, sa^e for the two occu- 
 pants of the woodpile. Caroline had managed 
 to extricate enough of Willie's body from the 
 grip of the logs to pillow his head on her knees. 
 She was stanching the blood on his temple with 
 a hastily torn ruffle from her white petticoat 
 when she felt her mother's eyes upon her. 
 
 "He's cut his head and hurt his leg. I think 
 maybe it is broken," she said with calm that 
 would have done credit to her surgeon father. 
 "I reckon we must waken the Major."
 
 AN INTERRUPTED DRAMA 5 
 
 "Caroline! Is it really so bad as that? I do 
 not think " 
 
 Mrs. Ravenel's respect for the English lan- 
 guage never failed, even in the most tragic 
 moments : she would no more have thought of 
 taking a cross-cut through a sentence than 
 through a traffic jam. 
 
 "I do not think that your father is able to per- 
 form an operation to-day. He is very miserable." 
 
 In Caroline's amber eyes anxiety gave place 
 to scorn. 
 
 "Do you think Major would let anybody set a 
 bone that was broken on our woodpile? Cer- 
 tainly not. He will set it, and I will nurse Willie 
 till he gets well." 
 
 Despite the fact, that Willie's head was peril- 
 ously near the edge of her spread knees she drew 
 herself from the waist up she could not rise 
 to her ten years' height. The thrill that shot 
 like an electric current through her sacrificial 
 veins warmed her enthusiasm. It was character- 
 istic of Caroline that she never lost an oppor- 
 tunity to exploit an emotion, to lift it if possible 
 to the n'th degree. 
 
 "But I tell you, Caroline, that he is not 
 able " 
 
 The appearance of Rufus put an end to the 
 discussion. 
 
 "De Major he say fer me to carry de chile into
 
 6 THEN CAME CAROLINE 
 
 the office." Then, lowering his voice, "He say 
 he done break a bone; he know de cry." 
 
 The old negro lifted the afflicting log and freed 
 Willie's leg. Then he gathered him in his arms, 
 regardless of remonstrance, and carried him into 
 the wing that was given over to Doctor Haveners 
 profession. 
 
 Caroline walked by Rufus, catching at Willie's 
 dangling hand, whispering words of encourage- 
 ment. 
 
 "You are quite sure that you are able to under- 
 take this, Doctor?" his wife inquired, pausing 
 at the office door. She always addressed her 
 husband with quaint dignity. 
 
 "It is scarcely a question of can" the tall, 
 sick-looking man replied, motioning Rufus to a 
 couch at the end of the room. "Send Leigh here 
 immediately, please. Caroline may go with 
 you." 
 
 At the announcement Caroline stepped into 
 the room and stood for the briefest instant be- 
 fore her father with her slender, begrimed hand 
 pressed against her brow in salutation. The 
 gesture it amounted to little more was a 
 remnant of early army life, baby days spent at 
 a well-known post where her father was surgeon. 
 There, also, she had first lisped Major, rather 
 than Father, and the habit clung. 
 
 "Please let me stay, Major," she begged.
 
 AN INTERRUPTED DRAMA 7 
 
 Doctor Ravenel shook his head; his lips were 
 strangely grim. The expression, foreign to his 
 fine face, (where his fourth daughter was con- 
 cerned) hurt inexpressibly. 
 
 "You may go with your mother, Caroline. At 
 once." 
 
 No one ever argued a question w T ith Doctor 
 Ravenel. He had reared his children with a 
 thoroughly commendable attitude toward obedi- 
 ence, impelled, no doubt, by a certain laxness 
 on the part of their mother. Mrs. Ravenel was 
 too gentle, too yielding to indulge in disturbing 
 discipline. It grated on her sensitive nature and 
 upset her digestive organs. She usually capitu- 
 lated to annoying controversies with, "Your 
 father will settle the matter," or, "Go to Leigh." 
 
 In the hall Caroline and her mother parted, 
 Mrs. Ravenel turning toward the drawing-room 
 and her neglected guests. 
 
 "I think you had better go to your room, darl- 
 ing," she admonished, as the child reluctantly 
 began to climb the stairs, "and think over your 
 disobedience until your father is ready to talk 
 with you. And tell sister she is needed in the 
 office immediately." 
 
 The drawing-room was empty save for Maum 
 Rachel, who was picking up fragile cups and 
 saucers preparatory to carrying out the service. 
 
 "Miz Colfax and Miss Rose done lef their
 
 8 THEN CAME CAROLINE 
 
 compliments fer y'all," she mumbled, shoving 
 the dishes onto a waiting tray. "They say they 
 reckon Miss Car'line been up to some debilment 
 and they better be going. They say they pow'ful 
 glad their little Massa Tom he gone to dancin' 
 school this afternoon 'les he be in the fracas 
 
 and git his head busted up like Massa Willie 
 
 
 
 "That will do, Rachel. Mrs. Colfax's remarks 
 were not meant for repetition." 
 
 "Miss Car'line she done get us all in wrong 
 with the neighbors, Miss Em'bly ; she sure " 
 
 A decided wave of her mistress's hand stopped 
 Rachel's grievance. She left the room in sullen 
 silence. 
 
 Caroline wended her way up the broad stairs 
 with provoking deliberation until she reached 
 the landing. Then she ran lightly down the 
 wide, gloomy hall, opening a door at the ex- 
 treme end. 
 
 A girl of seventeen sat by an open window 
 with a mending basket on her lap. In her hand 
 she held a child's white stocking, upon which 
 she was patiently working. 
 
 She looked up with a smile as wan as it was 
 expectant. 
 
 "What is it, honey?" she asked, and a little 
 frown came between her clear blue eyes. "You're 
 not in trouble again?"
 
 'We were acting the Garden of Eden." Page 9.
 
 AN INTERRUPTED DRAMA 9 
 
 Caroline's answer was straight and to the 
 point. 
 
 "Willie Boland got hurt on the woodpile. 
 Maybe his leg's broken (her face was strangely 
 eager) and Major wants you to come down to 
 the office right away and help him fix it." 
 
 Leigh put the stocking in the basket and rose 
 with a sigh. She moved slowly as she crossed 
 the room to throw an affectionate arm around 
 her sister's shoulder. An early illness had left 
 her frail, with a tendency toward a curved spine, 
 but the strength that ebbed from her wasted body 
 had not been lost: it had flowed to her soul. 
 Leigh Ravenel was the flower and stay of her 
 adoring, dependent family. 
 
 "Caroline," she whispered, "how dreadful! 
 How did it happen?" 
 
 "Oh, we were acting the Garden of Eden. I 
 made up a play last Sunday in church. I'll tell 
 you about it when you come back. Give my love 
 to Willie and tell him it's a good deal his own 
 fault. I wanted him to take my place and be 
 God, but he didn't like standing on a mound giv- 
 ing blessings. And let me know when its all 
 over, for I'm going to nurse him until he's well 
 again." 
 
 Leigh's horrified expression was lost in the 
 shadowy hall, and Caroline turned to the front 
 of the house. She longed to go downstairs and
 
 10 THEN CAME CAROLINE 
 
 listen just outside the office door to Willie's 
 moans; to suffer with him (she even limped a 
 little and felt her way along the wall in lieu 
 of a crutch, thinking how he would walk when 
 he recovered), but the Major had said "Up- 
 stairs." 
 
 Instead of opening her own door, she leaned 
 over the banister, to be rewarded by several 
 sharp, terrifying yells and a number of low, 
 heart-breaking moans, moans that found a smoth- 
 ered echo on the second landing. And there was 
 the entrancing odor of an escaping anesthetic, 
 an odor so satisfying to her greedy emotions that 
 she stood for some minutes with closed eyes and 
 invitingly distended nostrils. 
 
 A deathlike calm followed the moans; a calm 
 so ominous that Caroline's imagination took new 
 flight. Perhaps Willie was dead. Poor Willie, 
 who only a short half-hour ago was so happily 
 hopping over the woodpile to escape sharks. But 
 death was not so terrible, at least not at first, 
 when people were busy with the funeral. A 
 funeral! She closed her eyes and behind them 
 a picture slowly unfolded. Perhaps, since she 
 had been instrumental in bringing Willie to an 
 untimely end, his family would let her have 
 charge of the funeral, choose the hymns: "On- 
 ward, Christian Soldiers", or though it was 
 more often used at weddings "The Breath that
 
 AN INTERRUPTED DRAMA 11 
 
 Blew O'er Eden." That would be appropriate, 
 too. 
 
 Leigh's whitened face as she left the office 
 and laboriously pulled up the stairs brought the 
 startling question: 
 
 "Is he dead, Sister? He stopped moaning, all 
 so sudden " 
 
 Like the Major's, Leigh's lips tightened. Her 
 expression was singularly like her father's, al- 
 though she had inherited the fair skin and clear, 
 round eyes of the Kirtleys. 
 
 "No, Caroline ; fortunately you have not killed 
 him with your foolish play, but he has a broken 
 ankle which will keep him in bed for some time 
 and possibly cripple him. It is a very bad frac- 
 ture." 
 
 "Is it really? And you think maybe he will 
 be lame? Oh, Leigh, do you 'spose his mother 
 will expect me to marry him and take care of 
 him? I don't like the Bolands a bit, even if they 
 are a good family, but of course I would be 
 willing " 
 
 "I think you had better go to your room and 
 wash your face and hands. Father wants to 
 see you in the office in ten minutes." 
 
 "Is Willie still there?" 
 
 "No, his mother came for him in the carriage." 
 
 "Was she terribly angry?" 
 
 "Naturally, she was indignant."
 
 12 THEN CAME CAROLINE 
 
 It was a clean and chastened Caroline that 
 later knocked at the office door. The low and 
 somewhat muffled "Come in" sounded harsh and 
 inhospitable. 
 
 Doctor Ravenel was busy at his desk. He 
 raised his head from a file of papers long enough 
 to wave Caroline to a chair by the window and 
 went on with his work. 
 
 For a while she sat still, her thin little body 
 (she seemed more sprite than child) bent for- 
 ward in the chair, her small hands with their 
 slender, tapering fingers clasped tightly in her 
 pink pinafore. 
 
 Now and then she glanced at the old clock 
 ticking patiently in the reception room beyond. 
 Across the hall she could see Judy passing back 
 and forth, setting the table for the evening meal. 
 She wondered if she would be permitted to dine 
 with the family. There had been times when 
 the privilege was denied her. 
 
 Earlier in the afternoon it had showered, and 
 through the open window waves of air brought 
 the scent of mignonette and the sweet, loamy 
 fragrance of purple and white phlox. Caroline 
 sniffed it dreamily. She would go out later on 
 and gather a bouquet to carry over to poor 
 Willie, a peace offering. On second thought she 
 believed it would be better to save the flowers 
 in case
 
 AN INTERRUPTED DRAMA 13 
 
 She scarcely dared contemplate the picture 
 that rose in her mind, sweeping it away con- 
 scientiously. 
 
 Her eyes wandered from the garden to the 
 familiar room, littered and shabby. She wond- 
 ered if Willy had occupied the cranky, green rep 
 chair with its squeaky levers while his bones 
 were being slipped into place, or the pine table 
 with its white oilcloth covering. The table prob- 
 ably ; the soft, quilted pad that Leigh had finished 
 a few days before was mussed and soiled. 
 
 The silence deepened. Judy had finished the 
 table and gone back to the kitchen. Caroline 
 could hear her clear, high voice raised in a 
 favorite song: 
 
 "Come on, sinners, come on, sinners, get a boat, 
 Get a boat get a boat fer to cross ole 
 Jerden." 
 
 'A trembling sigh left Caroline's lips. She 
 wished the Major would hurry with his work. 
 She hated suspense. Perhaps he had forgotten 
 about her. 
 
 She rose quietly and started on tiptoe toward 
 the door, but a glance from the stern hazel eyes 
 turned in her direction pinned her to the chair. 
 
 "I I was just goin' for a drink, Major," she 
 apologized. "Wouldn't you like a lemonade 
 yourself or a julep, maybe? I gathered some 
 mint awhile ago. It's nice and cold "
 
 14 THEN CAME CAROLINE 
 
 The bowed head with its fast silvering hair 
 shook ungratefully. 
 
 The clock ticked on: the stillness became un- 
 bearable. 
 
 Suddenly Caroline understood. The Major 
 was angry. He was not interested in the papers 
 that engrossed his attention; he was simply 
 gaining time, getting hold of himself, bringing 
 every atom of will to bear upon his temper, to 
 control it. 
 
 She sank back in the chair. 
 
 Uncomfortable chills raced up and down her 
 spine. Through the haze of her bestirring brain 
 crept a memory, another occasion when she had 
 occupied the chair by the window. 
 
 The memory of that fateful hour was stamped 
 indelibly upon her mind. Ever a realist, she had 
 taken a sharp stick and pushed out two front 
 teeth (to be sure they were loose) to better emu- 
 late a witch in one of her numerous dramas. 
 The result proved disastrous. From that day 
 forth the family slogan had been, "Remember 
 your teeth, Caroline!" when her spirited fancy 
 wandered. Remember them? As if she could 
 ever forget the pain and humiliation of having 
 the new ones probed for and guided, to say 
 nothing of sacrifices occasioned by repeated 
 dentist's bills. 
 
 Doctor Ravenel raised his head at last, folded
 
 AN INTERRUPTED DRAMA 15 
 
 his papers and thrust them into a drawer at the 
 side of his desk. 
 
 Then he crossed the room and, closing the door 
 that opened to the hall, turned the key in the 
 lock.
 
 CHAPTER II 
 CABOLINE COGITATES 
 
 THE Kirtley mansion, as it was familiarly 
 alluded to by the oldest inhabitants of 
 Warrensburg, had gradually sunk from 
 former grandeur to a state little short of decad- 
 ence. Its galleries sagged, its stately pillars 
 were scarred and weather-beaten ; and along the 
 flagstone path that led to the massive front door, 
 wild grass and sportive daisies played hide and 
 seek the summer through, unmolested by trowel 
 or rake. 
 
 Even the town, once proud of the high ground 
 where aristocracy established its habitation, had 
 turned its back and sauntered leisurely through 
 the valley, building its show places along the 
 river that wound in and out among elms and 
 oaks. 
 
 But in the South, name and reputation live 
 longer than house or location, so that the Kaven- 
 els, while inconvenienced by the general dilapida- 
 tion going on about them, were in no way ostra- 
 cized by it. It would have taken a good deal of 
 courage for any one of the nouveaux riches, fast
 
 CAROLINE COGITATES 17 
 
 springing up in the metropolis, to snub a Kirt- 
 ley, or look askance at the deteriorating house 
 set in its deserted half-acre. Kemote and run 
 down as it was, the place still held the glamor of 
 happier days; days when old Colonel Kirtley, 
 with blood bluer than the bluest in Warrensburg 
 County, rode all day long without reaching the 
 end of his own domain. 
 
 His portrait still hung in the hall, an aristo- 
 crat of the old South, in ruff and periwig; his 
 slender, silk-stockinged legs crossed carelessly, 
 his gold-headed riding crop in his shapely hand. 
 
 The portrait was an heirloom treasured be- 
 yond price. Every Kirtley, from the gentleman's 
 own son down, had stood in awe before it, and 
 such stress had been laid upon the importance of 
 great, great-grandfather Kirtley (so it was told) 
 that a child of a later generation had one day 
 rushed home from a neighbor's with the astonish- 
 ing information that the Beris fords had a great, 
 great-grandfather, too; a fact to be verified by 
 the family, since the youth had been reared to 
 believe that the Kirtleys possessed a world mon- 
 opoly on that particular kind of an ancestor. 
 
 There was also another portrait that hung in 
 the hall, higher up, in a niche of its own on the 
 first stair landing: Great-aunt Caroline, she of 
 the rosy cheeks and wide leghorn hat drooping 
 with pink roses. It was a graceful portrait,
 
 18 THEN CAME CAROLINE 
 
 handsomely executed : Great-aunt Caroline had 
 a pleasant, human look. Her smile was merry ; 
 her short, round figure all that could be seen 
 of it distractingly plump and dimpled. 
 
 This beautiful woman, the youngest sister of 
 Emily Kavenel's father, had, in her eighteenth 
 year, married an Englishman of noble birth and 
 gone to live in his ancestral home across the sea. 
 
 Although the Ravenel family had long since 
 lost track of her, the flavor of her beauty and 
 romance remained with them. Her name, with 
 the children at any rate, was a fairy wand w T hich 
 would some day turn their hopes and aspirations 
 into realities. 
 
 "When Great-aunt passes on and leaves me her 
 diamond necklace and pearl tiara !" was Alison's 
 frequent ~bon mot. Alison, being extremely hand- 
 some, thought a good deal about adornment. 
 
 "I shall take my fortune and go to Paris to 
 study art," Mayre always said. Mayre was the 
 dilettante of the family : a jack of all trades and 
 master of none, they ungraciously declared. 
 
 "The money will all come to me because I am 
 named for her," Caroline had once remarked, 
 when the subject was in full swing. "And when 
 it does I shall buy a circus of my very own and 
 ride a dappled gray horse in a white tarlatan 
 skirt with a million ruffles on it." To which her 
 younger sister Hope (who could see through
 
 CAROLINE COGITATES 19 
 
 a joke better than she could through fractions) 
 replied amiably: 
 
 "I have never seen a horse in skirts; I should 
 think he would be very funny maybe you 
 wouldn't need a clown." 
 
 To-night as Caroline ran upstairs after leaving 
 her father's office, she stopped before the portrait 
 and protruded the end of a very pink tongue at 
 the smiling lips and damask cheeks. 
 
 There was no particular reason why Aunt 
 Caroline should have received the brunt of her 
 namesake's outraged feelings unless, being mute, 
 she could not retaliate, and the moue, which dis- 
 torted a very attractive face into a very naughty 
 one, relieved the venom that was gathering in 
 Caroline's wounded breast. 
 
 She reached her own room, and turning up a 
 light to make sure Hope was not about, closed 
 the door with a push that just escaped being a 
 slam. 
 
 The interview in the office had been long and 
 painful. She had been punished for something 
 she considered no fault of hers. Being extremely 
 just in her own dealings, she resented the stern 
 accusations and the humiliating punishment that 
 had been meted out to her. 
 
 She went over to the window and sat down in 
 a little, old-fashioned chair that had descended 
 from one generation of Kirtleys to another: a
 
 20 THEN CAME CAROLINE 
 
 comfortable, low chair with a carpet back and 
 seat. At the present moment Caroline found it 
 more soothing than the hard, fiddle-backed ma- 
 hogany drawn beside it. 
 
 It was seven o'clock. Neither she nor her 
 father had dined. But she had not missed the 
 meal. Food was always her last consideration, 
 and to-night Maum Rachel's beaten biscuit and 
 golden-brown chicken would have choked her. 
 
 The soft September twilight was coming on, 
 and Caroline put her head out of the window to 
 cool her hot face. She wished that she could go 
 down in the garden and w T atch the primroses 
 open; the scent that reached her on the cool, 
 damp air was a sympathetic invitation. But the 
 Major's express command had been "Upstairs in 
 your own room and to bed. 7 ' 
 
 She sat thinking for some minutes after she 
 had cooled her fevered face. And to think, with 
 Caroline, was to plot. Her mind, many-sided 
 and romantic, always leaped to the sentimental 
 and unusual. 
 
 Finally she rose and going over to a chest be- 
 gan taking out her clean clothes and best Sunday 
 shoes and stockings. A sound at the door made 
 her tumble them back in a disorderly heap, re- 
 gardless of the hours Judy had spent bringing 
 the frocks to their state of polished neatness. 
 
 Hope, comfortable and chatty after the ample
 
 CAROLINE COGITATES 21 
 
 evening meal, edged into the room, and taking 
 the fiddle-backed chair, gazed at her sister with 
 interest. 
 
 "Caught it, didn't you!" she remarked in a 
 tone that made Caroline grit her teeth and look 
 about for something to hurl at her: there was 
 nothing handy so she compromised by turning 
 her back. 
 
 "Willie's worse. Kufus had to hitch up and 
 take father over. What do you suppose they'll 
 do to you if he dies?" 
 
 There was no answer from the carpet-backed 
 chair. 
 
 "Maum Rachel says you've got a devil in you ; 
 she says sometimes they get inside of you, and 
 you can't get them out." 
 
 The suggestion proved an inspiration. 
 
 "I have, and you'd better look out, Miss 
 Smarty!" 
 
 Quick as a flash Caroline rose and, running 
 over to the door, locked it, hurling the key 
 through the open window. 
 
 Hope's face whitened and she shrank against 
 the wall. 
 
 "And I'm tired of him, so I'm going to give 
 him to you. Here, here, I make you a pres- 
 ent." 
 
 Hunching herself into the most grotesque 
 shape possible, Caroline puffed out her cheeks,
 
 22 THEN CAME CAROLINE 
 
 turned in her eyes, and with a little fantastic 
 movement of her crossed fingers began to hop 
 toward the terrified child who backed into a 
 corner. 
 
 Children left to the care of negro servants are 
 not to blame for the reality of their superstitions. 
 Hope, believing that a transfer of a devil from 
 her sister's bosom to her own was imminent, be- 
 gan to wail loudly. 
 
 The sound stopped the antics for a moment, 
 but remembering that Hope had said her father 
 was not at home, Caroline resumed her threaten- 
 ing attitude. 
 
 "Here he comes! Take him! Take him! 
 Catch him ! Hold on to him !" 
 
 Hope's wail rose to a scream. 
 
 The hopping had developed into a mad incanta- 
 tion, as original as it was terrifying. 
 
 "Don't, don't, please, please don't!" screamed 
 Hope. 
 
 "You've got him got him I saw him jump 
 Look out! How do you like him? See his 
 horns?" 
 
 A battering on the door drowned the frantic 
 yells. 
 
 "Caroline! Caroline! Do you hear me? Open 
 the door instantly." Leigh's tones were clear 
 and judicial. 
 
 "Can't. The key isn't here."
 
 CAROLINE COGITATES 23 
 
 "Where is it?" 
 
 "Down in the yard where Caroline threw it," 
 came Hope's retaliatory ton 
 
 "Tattletale cry baby wishey-washey good- 
 ey-goodey," floated through the empty keyhole. 
 
 It took some time to find Maum Rachel, who 
 always carried pass-keys on the long chain that 
 dangled at her belt. 
 
 "I tole Little Miss (Hope was always "Little 
 Miss" to the negroes) dat chile done had a debil," 
 Kachel said as she flung the door wide. 
 
 "She has, and she tried to give him to me," 
 Hope screamed. "Oh, Maum Kachel, look at her ! 
 Look !" 
 
 The incantation had begun again. The old 
 negress threw her hands over her head and made 
 for the hall as fast as her weary limbs would 
 permit. 
 
 "She done hoodooed, Miss Leigh ! For de lub 
 of de Lord don't you go near her ! She's gwine 
 bite in a minute ! Judy," she called, "you triflin' 
 nigger, you run over to Marse Boland's an' git 
 her Paw." 
 
 The excitement brought Mrs. Ravenel from be- 
 low, but it was Leigh who took hold of the young 
 culprit and shook her soundly. "Stop it this 
 instant!" she commanded. "Haven't you done 
 enough mischief for one day? Remember your 
 teeth!"
 
 24 THEN CAME CAROLINE 
 
 Caroline's face resumed its natural shape and 
 her arms went around her sister's neck. 
 
 "Oh, Leigh," she cried, "nobody loves me; no- 
 body wants me here and I am going to run away 
 
 this very night. You will all see and be sorry 
 
 sorry you forced me to leave you. I'll show 
 you!" 
 
 It was an old threat to which no one ever paid 
 the slightest attention. 
 
 Leigh put her cool cheek against the pink, wet 
 one and whispered: 
 
 "Leigh loves you, darling, when you will let 
 her, but you are so naughty, and with poor father 
 ill " She drew Hope toward the hall. 
 
 "Come with me, dear," she said. "I think we 
 will let Caroline sleep alone to-night." 
 
 Caroline tried to look indifferent, but the good 
 fortune thus thrust upon her almost brought a 
 smile. 
 
 It took some minutes for the house to resume 
 its usual quiet. Caroline crept back to the 
 window to form her interrupted plans. She 
 heard the front door open and close and knew 
 that her father had returned. Down the hall in 
 the old nursery where she was still comforting 
 Hope, Maum Rachel's crooning voice lifted in 
 song: 
 
 "De wind is in de west," she sang in a 
 wavering crescendo:
 
 CAROLINE COGITATES 25 
 
 "De wind is in de west ; 
 De turkey's in de nest ; 
 So don't you cry, IIP baby 
 Don't you cry 
 Don't you cry 
 Cry 
 Cry. 
 
 It was some time before Caroline stirred ; when 
 she did she looked about with a sigh. It was a 
 little hard, after all, to leave home. She glanced 
 at the great, high bed with its carved pineapple 
 posts, and wondered if she would ever find an- 
 other so comfortable. True it was a good deal 
 of trouble to climb into it; that was why the 
 carpet-covered box stood in such close proximity ; 
 
 but once in 
 
 Judy had neatly turned the heavy linen sheets 
 and put a pair of soft blue slippers beside the 
 box. The sight was a persuasive argument to 
 remain, but the family needed its lesson. 
 
 She glanced through the window into the 
 thickened gloom. A black pall covered the 
 garden. She could no longer see the primroses, 
 wide-eyed now and heavy with fragrance. 
 
 "I reckon it would be just as well to pack to- 
 night and get an early start in the morning," 
 ehe thought, glancing back at the turned cover- 
 lets. 
 
 Out of the chest came the frocks again. She
 
 26 THEN CAME CAROLINE 
 
 scarcely knew what was a la mode for running 
 aw r ay, but she thought perhaps the best would 
 be none too good. It always paid to impress 
 strangers. She chose the new red and brown 
 plaid that Miss Tilly Macon, the seamstress, had 
 finished the week before. Mayre, in an angelic 
 moment, had said that it brought out the chest- 
 nut shades in her thick hair. Mayre could be 
 kind, even complimentary at times, although she 
 had once declared that Caroline's amber eyes 
 had coffee grounds in them, adding with a con- 
 noisseur's lingering glance that, after all, she 
 loved the effect. It gave a "speckled" look that 
 was "different." 
 
 Next came the shoes. Caroline rather disliked 
 the idea of walking in her best shoes. There was 
 always a complaint about shoes. Providing four 
 pairs monthly was a drain on the family purse : 
 of course Leigh's lasted longer. But her old 
 shoes would look shabby with the new plaid, and 
 anyway, she intended to ride Calico part way. 
 
 TW T O sets of underwear, a toothbrush and comb 
 completed the pile. It looked very little to last 
 until she could buy more (she intended to find 
 work at a farmhouse, returning home in the 
 course of time robed in silks saved from her 
 earnings) but it would be hard to carry more. 
 And liow was she to carry these? Calico hated 
 bundles tied to his otherwise willing back.
 
 CAROLINE COGITATES 27 
 
 In her extremity she spied a bold red and yel- 
 low bandanna handkerchief that Maum Rachel 
 had dropped in her flight. It was just the thing. 
 She folded the comb and toothbrush in the under- 
 wear, and dropping them into the handkerchief 
 tied the corners securely. 
 
 Then she went back to the window and took 
 another look at the night. 
 
 It was raining! A soft patter played on the 
 flagstones below. 
 
 "I can't go in the rain. I would spoil every- 
 thing," she thought, extending her hand to make 
 sure her ears were not deceiving her. Well, I 
 will dress just the same and be ready when it 
 stops. 
 
 She was some time getting her hair into two 
 smooth braids: Leigh usually gave it a final 
 touch and perked the hair ribbon that caught 
 them together at the nape of her neck. 
 
 There were three buttons in the back of the 
 dress that disdained the holes provided for them; 
 so they were left yawning, and as Mayre had 
 helped herself to the brown stockings that went 
 with the dress, black were substituted. 
 
 More and more inviting looked the great bed. 
 Caroline stepped on the box and ran her hand 
 across the immaculate bolster that, in the Rav- 
 enel family, took the place of pillows. It was 
 soft and downy.
 
 28 THEN CAME CAROLINE 
 
 "I reckon maybe I had better rest with my 
 clothes on till day-light," she decided and, taking 
 off her shoes, climbed in between the fragrant 
 sheets and pulled the blankets over her. 
 
 When she awoke faint streaks of dawn were 
 coloring the horizon. The rain had stopped, but 
 damp, misty air floated in through the window 
 with a promise of showers. 
 
 The house was as silent as a tomb. The Rav- 
 enels (especially since the doctor's illness) were 
 late risers. The negroes' quarters were down in 
 the field back of the barn. They, too, were safe 
 for another hour. 
 
 Caroline held her breath as she opened her 
 door and crept down the old stairs that creaked 
 in spite of her careful steps : she had taken the 
 precaution to carry her shoes. In the kitchen 
 she stopped and leisurely laced them, taking time 
 to visit the bread box and doughnut jar on her 
 way out. 
 
 The rest was easy. Calico needed no saddle. 
 He was quite accustomed to the weight of his 
 small mistress who nestled like thistledown on 
 his back. His great, honest eyes seemed scarcely 
 inquiring as she bridled him. 
 
 Before the smoke had begun to wreathe up- 
 ward from Maum Rachel's shanty, the two were 
 miles down the valley.
 
 CHAPTER III 
 FAMILY AFFAIRS 
 
 THERE was nothing that gave Mrs. Rav- 
 enel more pleasure than to sit on the 
 broad veranda on a summer evening, 
 her white jeweled hands (she had managed to 
 hold to her beautiful rings despite vicissitudes) 
 complacently crossed at her no longer slender 
 waist, and recount to a casual guest the many 
 interesting events that had taken place in her 
 life. 
 
 At forty, her face, round and sweet, was as 
 unlined and serene as a girl's of twenty, though 
 her slow manner of speech, her polished diction, 
 her general air of dignity hinted at the well- 
 seasoned fifties. 
 
 She usually began with her girlhood, that re- 
 construction period when the South, bleeding 
 and devastated, had begun to react from the 
 hardships put upon it. Much of the Kirtley 
 fortune had been sw r ept into the general abyss 
 caused by war. Piece by piece land had been 
 sold until only the old home and a badly man-
 
 30 THEN CAME CAROLINE 
 
 aged plantation which yielded a negligible in- 
 come were left. 
 
 She often dwelt, with dreamy eyes, on her 
 youthful romance which began at nineteen, when 
 she went to Kichmond to visit a relative. It was 
 there she had met Bob Eavenel, one of the Rav- 
 enels of Virginia, handsome, well educated, with 
 a brilliant future stretching before him. He had 
 come from a line of physicians and surgeons, and 
 people were wont to declare that success was his 
 birthright. 
 
 And so it had seemed. There were a dozen or 
 more happy years spent in wandering over the 
 globe the usual lot of the army man and 
 then, suddenly, up in Alaska where the cold cuts 
 like a knife, grippe had seized him seized and 
 shaken him until his sensitive throat and lungs 
 became weakened and inflamed. 
 
 A change to a milder climate proved beneficial, 
 but an army man cannot choose his habitation ; 
 frequent changes aggravated his condition. 
 Finally there had come a breakdown, the winter 
 after Hope was born, and the old house in the 
 South, shabby and run down as it was, seemed 
 a haven to the anxious family. 
 
 It was not a good move, but rest, open air, and 
 the comforts of home will do wonders toward 
 arresting disease. For a time Doctor Eavenel 
 improved, and they lingered on, hoping with each
 
 FAMILY AFFAIRS 31 
 
 coming year his health would again permit him 
 to take up the duties he loved. 
 
 Mrs. Ravenel usually passed over those anxious 
 days of her married life and proceeded with the 
 children. First had come Leigh. "My precious 
 responsibility," she would sigh and wipe the 
 tears from her mild blue eyes. 
 
 "Alison followed in two years, and in two 
 years more Mayre blessed us with her happy 
 little presence; Mayre (here the conversation 
 was usually deflected for a family confidence 
 that is, if the visitor were intimate enough to be 
 admitted to family confidences) named for St. 
 Ivans Mayre of Richmond : you see, we had hoped 
 for a son, and well having selected the 
 name, we let it stand. It does quite as well for 
 a girl as a boy, and has the merit of distinction." 
 
 There was always a pause after that announce- 
 ment. A pause that was sometimes long, some- 
 times short: 
 
 "Then came Caroline!" 
 
 The tone and inflection depended a good deal 
 upon Caroline herself. If, by chance, on the day 
 the story was being told, she had thrown off her 
 Hyde wickedness and shown her Jekyll nature, 
 the information was apt to give the impression 
 that Caroline was a direct dispensation of provi- 
 dence, but, alas, it quite as often came in a tone 
 that closely resembled a groan.
 
 32 THEN CAME CAROLINE 
 
 "Our fourth daughter, Caroline," the story 
 went on, "is a very unusual child. Full of viva- 
 city, which sometimes develops into distinct 
 naughtiness. Her father is the only person who 
 really understands her, possibly because she is a 
 Kavenel of the first water; his patience with her 
 is really marvelous." 
 
 Then followed the debit and credit side of 
 Caroline's nature, "She is mischievous, wilful, 
 an unmerciful tease; she is slow to wrath, but 
 
 when once aroused " the lifting of Mrs. Kav- 
 
 enel's plump hands spoke more than words. 
 
 "But on the other hand she is sympathetic to 
 a degree; just and generous; gifted with an 
 imagination that is equally the pride and the 
 torment of the family." 
 
 "When Caroline takes it into her head to do 
 
 a thing " Mrs. Kavenel always stopped there, 
 
 shaking her head. No word had yet been found 
 to describe her daughter's determination. 
 
 Often there followed a line of anecdotes that 
 unwittingly sidetracked the story of Hope's ad- 
 vent in the family circle; but Hope was in- 
 clined to pale before the colorful Caroline, liter- 
 ally as well as figuratively. 
 
 There was always the story of how one morn- 
 ing in her fourth year, Caroline had escaped 
 Maum Rachel's watchful eye and followed her 
 mother to church, appearing in a nightgown still
 
 FAMILY AFFAIRS 33 
 
 dripping with the syrup from flannel cakes, 
 swinging a soiled and dilapidated infant by a 
 partially dissevered arm, calling joyously: 
 "Look, Muwer, I fpund Long Honey !" her 
 own name for a doll relegated to the ash barrel. 
 
 There was the pathetic tale of the town crier 
 who had tramped the streets for hours, his voice 
 raised in a persistent, "Child lost ! Child lost !" 
 and a detailed description of Caroline's overtures 
 to a goat. There were the measles, the whoop- 
 ing cough, ugly scratches from stray cats, sun- 
 dry frights of kidnapping: all of which passed 
 over her like a summer shower. 
 
 Doctor Ravenel was the direct antithesis of 
 his wife : a silent, scholarly man with keen, dark 
 eyes, always inscrutable ; a whimsical mouth that 
 belied a general sternness ; a deep, musical voice 
 and a pervading atmosphere of reliability. 
 
 Although the modest sign, "Robert E. Ravenel, 
 Physician and Surgeon", that hung on the office 
 side of the house announced his willingness to 
 serve the public, his strength, or lack of it, pro- 
 hibited an extensive practice. Frequent consul- 
 tations and an occasional operation (some pre- 
 ferred trusting him even in his enfeebled state 
 to chancing another) helped to eke out a living, 
 and there was, of course, his pay as a retired 
 army officer. 
 
 He lived in the anticipation of complete re-
 
 34 THEN CAME CAROLINE 
 
 covery, his naturally strong constitution and in- 
 herited physique contributing largely to his 
 faith. He knew, however, that he could not hope 
 to battle against the odds of Virginia's moist 
 climate and was continually on the lookout for 
 a chance to dispose of his property and estab- 
 lish himself in the mountains of Colorado or 
 Arizona. 
 
 With this, be it said in all fairness, Mrs. Kave- 
 nel was in absolute accord. She loved her South- 
 land, her undisputed social position, her old 
 friends, but years of army life had freed her 
 from prejudices: she knew that cultivated peo- 
 ple could be found in a wilderness (experience 
 had proved it ) , and ten or twelve years of wan- 
 dering had changed her home-loving nature to 
 nomadic independence. 
 
 At home, Mrs. Kavenel was petted and adored 
 by an admiring household, her natural sweet- 
 ness and charm penetrating every barrier. The 
 negroes worshipped her. Her children vied with 
 each other in attention to her; her husband 
 (whether or not he approved of her laxness and 
 indolence), shared in the general admiration, 
 though he lived his live outside the narrow circle 
 that bounded hers. 
 
 It was Leigh upon whom he depended. She 
 took care of his office, kept his books, answered 
 calls; saw that his instruments were cleaned
 
 FAMILY AFFAIRS 35 
 
 and sterilized; sometimes, in an emergency, she 
 administered an anesthetic, or drove with him to 
 a charity case, lending sympathy and interest. 
 
 Not that he willingly imposed upon her : often 
 her pale face and halting step haunted him far 
 into the night. But it was Leigh or failure. 
 
 And, in justice to the household, it must be 
 said that it was difficult to realize that one was 
 imposing upon Leigh. She was so cheery, so 
 willing, so interested and always so humor- 
 ous. 
 
 "I'm Biddy the cook," she would say with a 
 laugh when Maum Rachel's rheumatism took 
 her to bed ; or "Alfred the butler", as she served 
 a belated luncheon. Often she was "Jake the 
 stoker", "Mary Jane the housemaid", "Miss 
 Sedden the seamstress" and always "Mrs. Part- 
 ington, the housekeeper." 
 
 But if Leigh was her father's stay and com- 
 fort, Caroline was his pride and recreation. He 
 loved her with a consuming tenderness, watch- 
 ing the unfolding of her mind as a naturalist 
 watches the blossoming of a precious bud. She 
 was his hybrid. He understood the diverse and 
 often incongruous elements in her make-up: 
 from the Kirtleys she had inherited her sympa- 
 thies, her understanding of human nature, a cer- 
 tain adaptability; from them also came charm 
 of manner, almost a trick, in its irresistible
 
 36 THEN CAME CAROLINE 
 
 persuasiveness. From his own line descended 
 the more dominant traits : a strong will, a keen 
 mind, leadership. 
 
 He also knew the weedy spots ; where to prune, 
 where to cultivate. He was never too ill to 
 straighten out her difficulties, to encourage her 
 better moods and enforce the law in trying ones.
 
 CHAPTER IV 
 
 CAROLINE FARES FORTH 
 
 SUNKISE, to Caroline, was a new and thril- 
 ling experience. The rosy glow that 
 brought splendor to the east decided her 
 destination. 
 
 "We'll ride right into it, Calico," she said, 
 leaning to pat the horse's satin shoulder. "It's 
 so soft and billowy, like the silk rainbow shawl 
 up in the attic that belonged to Grandmother 
 Kirtley. You would sort of like to feel it around 
 you." 
 
 As a rule, Caroline cared very little for nature. 
 People interested her. Therefore she turned her 
 attention along the way to the farmhouses, just 
 beginning to show signs of life. Now and then 
 a negro woman emerged from a cabin to throw 
 out a pan of water, or a man entered a field, 
 anxious to get an early start at his work. 
 
 The sun had scattered the lowering clouds. 
 They shifted to the west, giving Caroline the 
 feeling that she was riding out of storm into a 
 new and unexplored fairyland.
 
 38 THEN CAME CAROLINE 
 
 She gave Calico the reins. "You choose," she 
 whispered with another pat. "You choose the 
 road, and I will choose the house I want to live 
 in when I come to it." 
 
 The rose tints in the east gave place to palest 
 gray. More people stirred. Now and then a 
 child rushed from a farmhouse door with an 
 energetic whoop, and once a little girl waved a 
 salute from a tumbledown veranda. 
 
 Caroline galloped on. She came at last to a 
 high, grass-grown field that skirted an old estate. 
 Calico stopped at the gate. 
 
 "Think you would like to go in, would you?" 
 she asked obligingly. "All right. I will let 
 down the bars; but I don't think we will stay. 
 People in big houses always have plenty of help. 
 They wouldn't need me, I am sure." 
 
 She followed a fascinating old path through 
 the trees by a brook, letting Calico drink from 
 the clear stream to his heart's content; then she 
 walked for a while beside him as he nibbled at 
 the sweet grass. It was very still. In the oaks, 
 birds chattered and sang, sometimes stopping 
 to quarrel over morning duties, Caroline sus- 
 pected, as they whirled and pivoted and shook 
 their saucy little heads. 
 
 She had gone perhaps a quarter of a mile 
 through the field when she came upon an old 
 chest set on a well-kept mound. It was heavy
 
 CAROLINE FARES FORTH 39 
 
 and ponderous, encased in copper bands that had 
 grown dull and rusty. 
 
 Caroline stood before it, deeply interested. 
 Where had she heard a story about an old chest 
 that stood on a mound? 
 
 She remembered presently and looked about. 
 This was it must be the box that held the 
 ashes of her grandfather's friend, General Kut- 
 ledge. Everybody in Warrensburg knew Rut- 
 ledge Heights, and the tale of old General 
 Rutledge who, fifty years ahead of his time, had 
 insisted upon being cremated. 
 
 She stood for a few minutes deep in thought. 
 Then, tying Calico to a near-by tree, she stripped 
 from one of the branches a long, thin switch. 
 
 Calico turned an inquiring eye upon her as 
 she applied it to the keyhole of the old box, but 
 she was too intent to notice. 
 
 Several times the switch went in and out, 
 turned over and swished through consecrated air. 
 Caroline examined it as it came forth, minutely, 
 patiently. She even procured a longer, thinner 
 one, applying it still more dexterously. Not an 
 ash adhered to the stripped sapling. 
 
 "It's just one of those darkey lies," she con- 
 fided to Calico in disgust, flinging away the third 
 switch. "If there were ashes there you could 
 hear them, I reckon, even if you couldn't get 
 them through the keyhole !"
 
 40 THEN CAME CAROLINE 
 
 They wandered for some time after they left 
 Kutledge field. The farms were lying a little far- 
 ther apart. Caroline began to eye them care- 
 fully. 
 
 "I love you, I love you not," she said, playing 
 an old game with a new zest. 
 
 Finally she came to a neat white cottage peep- 
 ing through two giant trees. A boy was scrub- 
 bing a scrap of a veranda, whistling a merry tune 
 as he worked. 
 
 "That's a nice looking place," she thought. "I 
 reckon I had better go on past it and send Calico 
 back home : then they will think I came from the 
 other way." 
 
 It was a little harder to say good-bye to Calico 
 than she had thought it would be, but she took 
 off his bridle it was an old one made of rope 
 and tossing it to one side of the road ordered 
 him home. 
 
 The boy looked up with surprise as she came 
 down the path. 
 
 "Hello," he said pleasantly, wonder growing 
 in his eyes. 
 
 "Good morning," Caroline replied in her best 
 company tones. 
 
 There was a pause. Caroline hesitated to step 
 on his clean veranda, 
 
 "Want to speak to Maw?" he inquired. 
 
 "Yes ; if she is not too busy."
 
 CAROLINE FARES FORTH 41 
 
 "She's always that," the lad answered, and 
 Caroline's spirits rose. 
 
 She followed him to the back of the house. 
 A small gallery cluttered with farm instru- 
 ments, an ice-box and several pairs of muddy 
 boots set in a neat row ran the length of the 
 kitchen. The boy scraped his feet on a piece of 
 rag carpet. Caroline followed his example while 
 he went indoors. 
 
 A tall, tired-looking woman in a red-and- white 
 striped gingham frock that made her look like a 
 stick of peppermint candy peered out over the 
 boy's shoulder. 
 
 "You want me?" she asked, squinting out into 
 the sunshine. 
 
 "I would like to speak to you if you please," 
 Caroline admitted, her heart fluttering wildly. 
 
 "Come in then. I'm busy a-bakin'. Set there, 
 will you?" 
 
 She pulled up a reed-bottomed chair, although 
 she went on with her work plunging doughnuts 
 into hot fat. 
 
 "These here things is just where I can't leave 
 'em," she mumbled over her shoulder. 
 
 Caroline sat still until the little fat rings came 
 out, brown and crisp. It was a nice place to sit, 
 the kitchen was so clean and spicy, and over by 
 the stove where the big black teakettle steamed 
 and hummed, a great yellow cat stretched its
 
 42 THEN CAME CAROLINE 
 
 length on a braided rug. Caroline stooped and 
 drew it up on her lap. 
 
 The woman turned at last with a questioning 
 stare. 
 
 Caroline's lips trembled, then broke in their 
 sweetest smile. "I hope the your husband 
 is well," she said kindly. 
 
 It was the thing callers invariably greeted her 
 mother with : "I hope the doctor is well," so of 
 course it was the way to begin the present 
 conversation. 
 
 "Fair to middling" the woman answered. 
 
 "And your family " 
 
 " 'Bout as common." 
 
 "It is a wonderful autumn we are having," 
 Caroline ventured, remembering the next step. 
 
 "A bit dampish." 
 
 From the dusk of the next room (the blinds 
 were still drawn) two awed gray eyes feasted 
 upon Caroline's troubled ones. She wished the 
 boy would attend to his business. It was a little 
 hard to stick to the weather, and she wouldn't 
 go on until he moved. 
 
 "Sam, are them steps done?" his mother asked, 
 following Caroline's wandering gaze. 
 
 "Yes'm." 
 
 "Then you can go down to the barn and get me 
 the rest of them eggs. Your Paw wants johnny- 
 cake fer dinner."
 
 CAROLINE FARES FORTH 43 
 
 Sam reluctantly crossed the room and saunt- 
 ered toward the barn. 
 
 "You had business with me?" the woman asked, 
 glancing toward her neglected baking. "This 
 bein' Saturday, I'm a little rushed. My man's 
 Bister, Eliza Wall, died last week, and Elmiry, 
 my gal, had to go over and help tend the 
 babies - " 
 
 Eliza's misfortune was Caroline's opportunity. 
 
 "That's just what I called about," she said 
 quickly. "Would you like a lady to help you for 
 a while - " 
 
 "What lady?" 
 
 Caroline laid a humble hand upon her breast. 
 
 "Me." 
 
 "Yes." 
 
 "What kin you do? You ain't bigger'n a pint 
 a cider." 
 
 Caroline bristled. "I can wash dishes and 
 make beds - " 
 
 "Where you been livin'?" 
 
 "In in the city." 
 
 "What family?" 
 
 "And I can take care of children," Caroline 
 went on quickly, "and run errands and play the 
 piano a little - " 
 
 "What wages you been gettin'?" 
 
 It was fortunate the question was put in just
 
 44 THEN CAME CAROLINE 
 
 that way, for it enabled Caroline to speak truth- 
 fully. 
 
 "Twenty-five cents a week," she answered un- 
 hesitatingly. That was her allowance, though 
 ten of it always had to go to Sunday school. 
 
 The woman's doubtful glance swept Caroline's 
 dress, her new shoes and sailor hat. 
 
 "You can do better than most of us if you can 
 dress like that on them wages," she said skepti- 
 cally, "but I am willing to raise you a quarter 
 if you kin stay till Elmiry gits home. I'm plum 
 give out with the cookin' and all. Maybe you can 
 take Sally Anne offen my hands; she's cuttin', 
 and crosser'n two sticks most of the day." 
 
 A wail from an adjoining room claimed the 
 attention of the farmer's wife. 
 
 "My name's Mrs. Watts," she said, as she 
 turned toward the door. "What's yourn?" 
 
 "Marcella," Caroline answered quickly. The 
 name had been acquired on the road down the 
 valley. 
 
 "All right, you don't look like you'd be much 
 help, but you can lay off yer things in the parlor 
 that door there, and change your clothes. I'll 
 dress the baby while you change ; she don't like 
 strangers. Then you can wheel her in the yard 
 till I need you." 
 
 The morning passed swiftly. Sally Anne 
 proved appreciative. She cooed and chuckled
 
 CAROLINE FARES FORTH 45 
 
 over Caroline's funny faces (Caroline was an 
 adept at making them), falling asleep with a 
 smile on her lips. 
 
 "That young 'un sure knows how to tend kids," 
 Mrs. Watts said to her husband, when he came 
 in to wash for dinner. "She's worth fifty cents 
 a week if she'll stay. I got a hunch she's run 
 away from home or something. She don't look 
 like nothin' I've seen round these parts. She's 
 gentry, er mighty close related." 
 
 All of which made Mr. Watts scrutinize the 
 young "help" with puzzled eyes, as he served 
 her to corn beef and cabbage. 
 
 More than once during the meal Caroline felt 
 those inquiring eyes upon her and modestly 
 dropped her own. 
 
 She noticed that when dinner was over the 
 farmer beckoned his wife into the parlor, where 
 he detained her for a few minutes. Returning, 
 they gazed with renewed interest. 
 
 "Well," said Mr. Watts when he had changed 
 his coat and run a comb through his shaggy 
 beard, "I'm off for town. Ain't anybody round 
 here would like to go with me, I reckon." 
 
 There was a moment's silence. Caroline, 
 glancing up, fancied she caught a wink directed 
 toward his wife. 
 
 "No not unless what's yer name Mar- 
 celly? wants to quit her job "
 
 46 THEN CAME CAROLINE 
 
 "Oh, no, I am satisfied if you are," "Marcelly" 
 interrupted. 
 
 Mrs. Watts assisted her husband with the load 
 of butter, eggs and vegetables which he carried 
 to the city every Saturday, and returned to the 
 kitchen. 
 
 "You can clear up the dishes," she said to 
 Caroline, "and wash 'em over there on the table." 
 
 She laid out a handful of neatly hemmed flour 
 sacks. 
 
 "There's yer towels, an' you'll find soft soap in 
 the can on the shelf by the stove. Get 'em 
 good and clean; I can't abide greasy dishes. 
 Ain't you got any other dress but that?" 
 
 Caroline shook her head. 
 
 Mrs. Watts disappeared for a minute bringing 
 back a faded blue cotton slip. 
 
 "Here's Elmiry's work dress; put it on," she 
 invited. 
 
 Caroline thought that she would never come 
 to the end of the dishes piled before her. She 
 didn't know very much about doing dishes, any- 
 way. Occasionally she had wiped them under 
 protest for Leigh when Maum Rachel took to 
 bed. Mrs. Watts, passing through the room, 
 stormed when she saw the thick cups and sauc- 
 ers nestling beside a black pot in the greasy dish- 
 water. 
 
 "Lord a massy," she shrilled, "I thought you
 
 CAROLINE FARES FORTH 47 
 
 said you knew how to work!" She ran her 
 hand down the side of the pan and extricated 
 three forks and a spoon. "Silver, too," she 
 sputtered. "That's great dishwashin' !" 
 
 She emptied the pan and carrying the water 
 to the yard threw it out with a jerk. 
 
 Caroline began again with fresh water. By 
 the time she finished, she was standing first on 
 one foot and then the other. Her Sunday shoes 
 were not quite "broken", and they burned her 
 tired feet. 
 
 "Reckon you can come down with me to the 
 milk house and churn a while," Mrs. Watts sug- 
 gested, when the last dish was dried and set on 
 the pantry shelf. 
 
 Caroline loved the milk house from the mo- 
 ment she came upon it: it might have been a 
 little playhouse with its thatched roof and 
 latched door. 
 
 And inside it was so cool and fresh, so fragrant 
 of new cheese and sweet butter. The brown 
 bowls that lined the spotless shelves, the shining 
 tin pans filled to the brim with the yellowest 
 of yellow cream, the soft red earthenware crocks 
 pushed back against the whitewashed walls made 
 a picture never to be forgotten. 
 
 "Oh, what a nice clean place," she said, as Mrs. 
 Watts placed a stool before an old-fashioned 
 churn.
 
 48 THEN CAME CAROLINE 
 
 But the charm of the room soon faded in 
 weariness. Caroline, according to instruction, 
 pumped the dasher up and down in the keg 
 until her arms ached. Once in a while she 
 stopped to rest, but the farmer's wife urged her 
 on saying: 
 
 " 'Never get discouraged in well doin' ;' that's 
 what my mother always told me when I was 
 little. It's comin'. See how hard the dasher 
 pulls the cream's thickeninV 
 
 The butter did "come" at last. Mrs. Watts 
 opened the keg, scooped out the yellow lumps, 
 squeezed them free of water and began to mold 
 them into rich golden mounds. She tossed and 
 patted, weighed and paddled with the skill of 
 an expert. Caroline watched her admiringly. 
 
 "I never knew before just how butter was 
 made," she said appreciatively. "It takes lots 
 of time, doesn't it? And its pretty when you 
 get it into those nice round cakes." 
 
 Mrs. Watts was too tired to answer. Butter, 
 to her, was an old story; she saw no beauty 
 in it. 
 
 Caroline hoped that she would be invited to 
 rest after the butter was put in the stone crocks, 
 but Mrs. Watts' "you can peel the pertaters now 
 for supper, and then amuse Sally Anne; this is 
 her fussy time, long 'bout five o'clock," roused 
 her to further effort.
 
 CAROLINE FARES FORTH 49 
 
 The potatoes peeled and put in cold water, 
 Sally Anne was wheeled to the farthest end of 
 the pasture. She was fussy, no question about 
 that. Nothing pleased her. 
 
 Caroline loaded the cart with flowers and 
 pretty stones and odds and ends of toys that Mrs. 
 Watts had sent along, but Sally Anne spurned 
 them all. 
 
 "It won't hurt her to fuss a little," Caroline 
 thought, after an hour's conscientious effort at 
 entertainment, and throwing herself down in 
 the cool, tangled grass, slept from sheer ex- 
 haustion. 
 
 She was awakened by a sudden thump beside 
 her. Sally Anne, demanding attention, had 
 leaped from her carriage, landing on a rock half 
 hidden in the grass. Her piercing screams 
 brought Mrs. Watts on a run. 
 
 "What's the matter?" the frightened woman 
 called in a frenzied tone, before she reached the 
 scene of disaster. 
 
 "Nothing. She just fell out of her buggy; I 
 don't think it hurt her much. She's scared, that's 
 all." 
 
 An ugly green and crimson bump on the baby's 
 forehead shamed Caroline the rest of the day. 
 She was relieved from a nurse girl's duties and 
 set to picking chickens for Sunday's dinner. 
 
 "I can't do this," she rebelled, after trying
 
 50 THEN CAME CAROLINE 
 
 for several minutes. "It makes me sick. I 
 reckon I had better be goin'." 
 
 She hadn't the remotest idea where, but a 
 night spent in the open field under the stars 
 would be better than the odor that penetrated 
 from the dirty, wet fowls. 
 
 The chickens were turned over to Sam, the 
 boy who had welcomed her in the morning. 
 
 "I think you'd better stay right on here least- 
 ;ways till Watts gets back from town," the farm- 
 er's wife declared, then, noticing the drooping, 
 dejected head, added : "If you want to, you can 
 go up in Elmiry's room and rest for a half-hour 
 before supper." 
 
 Caroline gratefully welcomed the suggestion 
 and climbed the narrow T attic stairs. 
 
 Elmiry's room was small, but it was clean 
 and restful. A brilliant rag carpet half covered 
 the floor and pretty white curtains, feather- 
 stitched in blue, fluttered in the cool, sweet- 
 scented breeze that floated through the window. 
 
 The bed looked lumpy, but Caroline turned 
 back the spread and, taking off her shoes, lay 
 down contentedly. Her head had scarcely 
 touched the pillow before she slept so soundly 
 that it took several of Sam's noisy thumps on 
 the door to rouse her. She jumped up quickly. 
 
 Twilight had crept on, and the strange room 
 was swallowed in shadows. For a moment Caro-
 
 CAROLINE FARES FORTH 51 
 
 line couldn't think where she was, but Sam's 
 good-natured voice calling her to supper re- 
 minded her. She choked back a sob that rose in 
 her throat and put on her shoes. 
 
 The family had drawn around the table when 
 she came down stairs. Mr. Watts was extremely 
 pleasant. He helped her to a bowl of soup and 
 inquired as to how she enjoyed farm life. 
 
 Caroline watched him as he broke a handful 
 of crackers into his soup and gulped the mixture 
 noisly. She looked about. Mrs. Watts and Sam 
 were following suit, so she crumbled hers daintily, 
 thinking how aghast her mother would be if she 
 could see her. She also poured her tea in the 
 saucer of her cup and, with courtesy that was at 
 base kindness, supped it lustily. She scarcely 
 understood why so much noise was demanded of 
 so simple a performance, and good taste forbade 
 inquiry. 
 
 Her appetite seemed strangely inadequate to 
 the array of food set before her. But everybody 
 was kind. Now and then Sam smiled at her, 
 pushing the apple sauce and plum butter closer, 
 and Mrs. Watts seemed to have forgotten the 
 baby's bruises. 
 
 They were half through the meal when Mrs. 
 Watts said: 
 
 "I reckon you saw them parties you set out to 
 look for this afternoon?"
 
 52 THEN CAME CAROLINE 
 
 Her husband nodded. 
 
 "It was as you thought?" 
 
 "Oh, yes, I knew I was right," he replied. 
 
 "Was they much put out?" 
 
 "Eight smart." 
 
 The conversation was quickly abandoned. 
 
 Sam hospitably proposed a game of jack- 
 straws after the dishes were washed, but Caro- 
 line was too sleepy. She had all but dozed at 
 the supper table. 
 
 "I reckon you had better go 'long to bed," Mrs. 
 Watts said. "An' tomorrer bein' Sunday, you 
 kin sleep late. We don't ever stir until six 
 o'clock Sundays." 
 
 She lighted the way up the dark stairs with 
 a tallow candle, and closing Elmiry's window, 
 set it on the stand. 
 
 "Good night," she said kindly, as she closed 
 the door. "You don't need to be a bit afraid. 
 We sleep right under this room. Ain't nothin' 
 goin' to hurt you. Don't forget to blow out the 
 light" 
 
 "May I have the window open, please?" Caro- 
 line begged. 
 
 "Open! At night? Land sakes! You'd catch 
 yer death. Ain't nothin' worse than night air: 
 it's goin' to rain, anyway." 
 
 Caroline did not argue, but when the footsteps 
 died on the stair, she stealthily lifted the rickety
 
 CAROLINE FARES FORTH 53 
 
 frame that held a strip of cracked glass and put 
 a stick under it. 
 
 For all she was so tired, she could not sleep. 
 Strange sounds rose above the patter of the rain : 
 the bark of a dog, now and then a cat's howl'; a 
 mad scampering between the thinly partitioned 
 walls; steady resounding snores from the room 
 below. 
 
 Her frightened eyes strained into the darkness. 
 Somehow, in retrospect, her adventure lacked 
 excitement. And her joy in picturing the sorrow 
 and fright of her family faded in homesickness. 
 All the way down the valley she had pictured 
 Maum Eachel wringing her hands and crying, 
 "po' li'l lamb, somebody gone toted her away; 
 she ain't neber lef her ole Maumy on her own 
 'count." 
 
 She had also feasted on Leigh's swollen eyes 
 and her mother's collapse (it was not difficult 
 to visualize Mrs. Eavenel, propped in her snowy 
 bed with Alison and Mayre in constant attend- 
 ance ) and her father 
 
 She had winced a little at the thought of his 
 pale face and kind eyes. Of all the family she 
 loved him best. As she thought of him now, 
 sobs shook her, and it took all the pride she 
 could muster to keep from going below and say- 
 ing, "I am Doctor Ravenel's little girl, and I 
 want you to hitch up and take me home this
 
 54 THEN CAME CAROLINE 
 
 minute." She hadn't the slightest desire to 
 prolong her family's agony. She had "shown 
 them." She was ready now to bury the hatchet 
 and begin anew. 
 
 She fell asleep thinking how she would steal 
 away in the morning before the family were 
 awake and inquire her way back to Warrens- 
 burg. 
 
 But it was broad daylight when she opened 
 her eyes and Sam was beating a lusty tattoo on 
 on her door. 
 
 "Breakfast's ready," he announced. "Better 
 hurry." 
 
 She was a little chagrined as she sat down to 
 the crisp bacon and eggs, though rather glad, 
 after all, that she had overslept; the coffee 
 smelled so good and the biscuits Mrs. Watts 
 brought from the oven were almost as nice as 
 Maum Rachel's. 
 
 "You and Sam kin do the dishes Sam'll 
 wash," Mrs. Watts said, as they rose from the 
 table. "I'll clean up a bit before we start to 
 meetin'." 
 
 "Do do you go to Warrensburg?" Caroline 
 asked hopefully. 
 
 "Land, no plum the other way! Warrens- 
 burg's ten miles from here." 
 
 "If you don't mind, I won't go with you. 
 Maybe I can do something here "
 
 CAROLINE FARES FORTH 55 
 
 "Oh, I reckon you'd better come along. Mr. 
 Watts is right particular about everybody goin' 
 to service." 
 
 Caroline dried the dishes thoughtfully. 
 
 The long day passed slowly. By the time 
 dinner was over, she was utterly dejected. She 
 bravely battled with tears, but often her lips 
 trembled. 
 
 "When when does Mr. Watts go to town 
 again?" she inquired about dusk. Sam had 
 lighted the lamp that hung over the kitchen 
 table and opened a book. The sight brought a 
 wave of homesickness. A picture swept before 
 her longing eyes: an old darky kneeling with 
 an armful of wood before an open fire his gray, 
 kinky head crimsoned by the glow; her mother 
 seated at a table, an open book in her pretty 
 white hands; Leigh near, with Hope squeezed 
 in the chair beside her; on the old sofa in front 
 of the fire, her father, resting, listening; Alison 
 and Mayre on the hearth-rug. And over all the 
 fire-light dancing on the rosewood piano, leap- 
 ing over the faded curtains, darting to Leigh's 
 thin hands spread on the armchair. 
 
 But one place was vacant her place in the 
 bend of her father's long body : he always pushed 
 back to give her room. She wondered if he 
 missed her, if he were sorry about the scolding. 
 
 A thought of Willie flashed over her. She
 
 56 THEN CAME CAROLINE 
 
 wondered if he were worse if lie had suffered 
 much. She hoped not. She winced a little, re- 
 membering his ankle, and unconsciously stooped 
 and rubbed her own. 
 
 Mrs. Watts' answer brought her back with a 
 start. 
 
 "Not afore Wednesday, I reckon. Do you, 
 Paw?" 
 
 "Hardly." 
 
 The pent-up tears dropped from Caroline's 
 eyes and wandered slowly down her cheeks. 
 
 Mr. Watts saw them, and although it was 
 Sunday and "he was particular about meeting," 
 he suggested that Sam close his book and get 
 out the jackstraws. 
 
 Caroline played with little interest. Sam's 
 winning was barely noticed by her until his, 
 "Oh, shucks, a girl can't never play nothin'!" 
 challenged her pride. 
 
 She was glad when the clock finally struck 
 eight and the family began making preparations 
 for bed. 
 
 Up in Elmiry's little room the tears fell thick 
 and fast, but sleep mercifully checked them. 
 Caroline was too weary to care whether the rain 
 fell, cats howled, or mice scampered in the par- 
 titions. Besides, she was dreaming: dreaming 
 that she was in her own soft bed at home; that 
 Maumy Rachel stood beside it with a tray of hot
 
 CAROLINE FARES FORTH 57 
 
 chocolate and cinnamon toast, a special treat 
 when Caroline was good. 
 
 Monday was worse than Saturday, or even 
 Sunday. Mrs. Watts washed. Caroline tended 
 the baby, dried dishes, set the table, peeled 
 vegetables. 
 
 But Tuesday held a surprise. A passing 
 farmer brought news that Elmiry was ready to 
 return home. A woman had been found to care 
 for her uncle's children. 
 
 "Beckon you'd better hitch up 'long 'bout four 
 o'clock, Paw, and go get her," Mrs. Watts said, 
 her face eager with anticipation. 
 
 "Which way does he go?" Caroline asked 
 hastily. 
 
 "T'other side a Warrensburg, 'bout a mile." 
 
 "The other side? Then he passes through, 
 doesn't he?" 
 
 "Yes." 
 
 "Do you think he'd mind taking me? I I 
 believe I like the city a little better and " 
 
 "But you hired for a week." 
 
 "I wouldn't charge you for the three days 
 and, besides you will hardly need me with 
 Elmiry coming." 
 
 "That's so. I guess maybe we can manage 
 what d'you think, Jim?" 
 
 Mr. Watts was very willing. He even sug- 
 gested stopping at Clay and Center streets to
 
 58 THEN CAME CAROLINE 
 
 let Caroline out, and in her joy Caroline thought 
 nothing of it. 
 
 She hadn't been so happy in months as she 
 climbed into the seat beside Mr. Watts, her red 
 bandanna clasped in one hand and a fifty-cent 
 piece which the farmer's wife insisted she had 
 earned held tightly in the other. 
 
 At Clay street the farmer stopped and held 
 out a rough, knotty hand. Caroline took it 
 respectfully. 
 
 "When you get tired of the city, come out 
 again," he said hospitably; "come and get ac- 
 quainted with Elmiry." 
 
 Caroline thanked him prettily. Then she ran 
 lightly down the street, turning in at the side 
 gate that marked the Kirtley mansion. The sur- 
 prise that awaited her in the old house was even 
 greater than the coming of Elmiry.
 
 CHAPTER V 
 
 THE WANDERER RETURNS 
 
 MAUM RACHEL was hanging out clothes. 
 As Caroline came down the walk, 
 Maumy put her hands to her fat, black 
 cheeks and held back a smile. 
 
 "Howdy, Miss Car'line," she called, with half- 
 averted face. "Howdy! Hope I see you well. 
 Did y'all have a pleasant journey?" 
 
 Caroline passed with a toss of her head. She 
 did not deign to notice the impertinence. 
 
 The house had a changed aspect. Caroline 
 stood gazing up at it in astonishment. Boxes 
 and packing cases filled the verandas ; the blinds 
 at the upstairs chambers were flung high ; Caro- 
 line observed this because Leigh was always 
 sending her to straighten them in neat, even 
 lines. 
 
 She turned to ask Maum Rachel a question, 
 but the smirk on the round, black face stopped 
 her. 
 
 "Is y'come to stay awhile?" the old woman
 
 60 THEN CAME CAROLINE 
 
 went on, her fat sides shaking with laughter. 
 Then, seeing Caroline's hurt face and dazed eyes, 
 she caught the cliild in her arms. 
 
 "Lammie," she crooned, hugging her tighter 
 and tighter, "lammie, lammie, your po' ole 
 Maumy was plain scared to deaf 'bout you. 
 Come on in to yer Maw. She jus' dyin' to see 
 you." 
 
 Caroline dreaded meeting the family. She 
 moved toward the house slowly. 
 
 "What are all those boxes on the gallery for, 
 Maumy?" she asked, eyeing them wonderingly. 
 
 "Dat's fer me to know and you to fine out, 
 honey," Rachel said with a sobered face. "Y'all 
 better run long in an' let your Paw 'splain. 
 Maumy ain't got time." 
 
 There was a suspicious moisture in her eyes 
 as she turned. 
 
 "Something has happened. Tell me quickly!" 
 Caroline stamped her foot impatiently. "Maumy, 
 Maumy, what is it you are crying. Is is he 
 worse?" 
 
 Rachel shook her head. "Go 'long in an' ask 
 the fam'bly," she muttered, drying her tears on 
 the hem of her apron. "Run 'long." 
 
 Doctor Ravenel w r as at his desk in the office. 
 The room was in confusion. Boxes were half 
 filled with books, chairs held draperies, pictures, 
 odds and ends of furnishings. Leigh was at the
 
 THE WANDERER RETURNS 61 
 
 table, fitting instruments into cases. She turned 
 as Caroline paused at the door. 
 
 "Well, honey," she said, and kissed her as if 
 nothing had happened. Doctor Eavenel looked 
 up and held out his arms. Caroline flung her- 
 self into them. 
 
 "Major," she cried, her eyes round with terror, 
 "what has happened? Tell me, quick! What 
 does it all mean?" 
 
 The Major drew her into his lap and smoothed 
 her thick braids. His eyes wandered over the 
 disorderly room. 
 
 "It means, my child, that a great many things 
 may happen between Saturday and Tuesday. It 
 means that we are moving going away to 
 a new, beautiful country, where Father will be 
 well and strong " 
 
 He got no farther. The sunburned head bur- 
 rowed into his rough tweed coat, the little 
 shoulders heaved with sobs. 
 
 Caroline heard the whole story later: how a 
 rich man from the West had returned to War- 
 rensburg, his old home, and had made some sort 
 of an exchange given his new house in the 
 pretty, prosperous Colorado town for the Kirtley 
 estate; the family was moving immediately. She 
 was still a little dazed as she wandered upstairs 
 to her mother's bedroom. 
 
 Mrs. Kavenel's room was in perfect order. The
 
 62 THEN CAME CAROLINE 
 
 packing of her personal belongings had been left 
 to the last. She looked very serene and pretty 
 as she sat in a comfortable chair before a log 
 fire, a book open in her lap. 
 
 "Close the door, dear," she called, as Caroline 
 crossed the threshold. "It is very draughty with 
 the house all open. Come give Mother a kiss." 
 
 She drew the child into her arms and patted 
 her cheek lovingly. "Darling," she murmured, 
 "you must never, never do such a naughty thing 
 again." 
 
 Caroline breathed a sigh of relief, and snug- 
 gling against her mother's delicately scented 
 laces, sighed peacefully. 
 
 But it was night before she could bring her- 
 self to ask about Willie. She and Hope were 
 alone in the big, square bedroom. Judy had 
 had turned back the covers on the bed and set 
 out two pairs of blue slippers. Never had a bed 
 Jooked so good to Caroline. 
 
 "How's Willie Boland?" she casually asked 
 as she began to disrobe. 
 
 Hope answered behind a yawn. 
 
 "Oh, he's coming along nicely. I went over to 
 see him this afternoon and took him some cake. 
 He was sitting up. I don't think he minds his 
 ankle being hurt at all. Everybody brings him 
 things : books and goodies and presents." 
 
 It was after the light was out and Hope had
 
 THE WANDERER RETURNS 63 
 
 turned her face to the wall that Caroline ven- 
 tured another question : 
 
 "Were they much scared, Hopie, when 
 when they found I had gone the other morn- 
 ing? Did anybody cry or anything?" 
 
 Hope smothered another yawn. 
 
 "Oh, a little at first. But when Mr. Watts 
 came in he used to be our vegetable man, you 
 know and said you were at his place, working, 
 why father said to let you stay and work it 
 would do you good he said " 
 
 Caroline turned her back upon Hope with a 
 flaunt that took the bedding with her. A dis- 
 gusted "Humph !" cut the sentence. 
 
 "I don't want to hear what he said/' came the 
 icy retort. "You can keep it to yourself I" 
 
 Under the cover of darkness Hope smiled 
 broadly. 
 
 The breaking up of an old home is more heart- 
 rending than it is exciting. From attic to cellar 
 the Kirtley house was slowly and systematically 
 dismantled. Boxes and barrels covered gallery 
 and veranda. Rufus hammered and nailed down 
 covers, gave instructions to Judy, made trips to 
 town for packing materials, all with a face so 
 sober that it brought tears to the eyes of sympa- 
 thetic little Caroline. 
 
 "Oh, Uncle Rufus," she said with a sigh, "I 
 don't see how in the world the Major is going
 
 64 THEN CAME CAROLINE 
 
 to get along without you. Who's going to drive 
 him when he makes calls " 
 
 "I reckon you is, Missy," the old man said, 
 with a tender smile. "I reckon y'all have to be 
 Miss Car'line and ole Eufus all in one, I 
 specs " 
 
 "And who's going to blacken his shoes and 
 brush his things and cut wood and build fires 
 and " 
 
 "Maybe they don't have fires out thar in the 
 mountains." 
 
 "Of course they have fires, Rufus." 
 
 "Mebby so, Missy, mebby so." 
 
 The conversation would go on and on, while 
 Caroline fetched and carried for the old man, 
 sometimes smuggling in a discarded toy or for- 
 bidden trinket while his woolly head was turned 
 from his boxes. 
 
 Maum Rachel's face was also long and 
 troubled. 
 
 "I specs I gwine to come back when I gits 'em 
 all settled out thar," she said to Rufus. "I ain't 
 goin' to be happy nowhar but in ole Virginny. 
 I knows that but I can't desert Miss Em'bly. 
 Why, Miss Emtly war my baby. She opened 
 them pretty blue eyes of hern in my ole black 
 face yessir ole Doctor Breeton done put her 
 in my arms first. Seems lak it was yisterday 
 when I cum to think 'bout it. I was just a li'P
 
 THE WANDERER RETURNS 65 
 
 over twenty, but I knew a heap 'bout chillun. 
 Then I nussed Miss Leigh, God bless her sweet 
 heart, and Miss Alison and Miss Mayre, and that 
 li'P, no-count scamp, Miss Caroline, and my UT 
 Miss. I ain't gwine to go back on 'em now. 
 I'se gwine 'long." 
 
 And Rufus would bend lower over his tasks, 
 sometimes raising an arm to drag a coat sleeve 
 across his eyes, but he said little. 
 
 The night before the lower rooms were cleared 
 for packing, Mrs. Ravenel gathered her children 
 in the faded blue drawing-room. Leigh, Alison 
 and Mayre sank down on the old sofa that had 
 held several generations of Kirtleys. Caroline 
 and Hope sat with their mother on a smaller 
 one. It was a solemn and impressive moment. 
 
 "I want you to look around, children," Mrs. 
 Ravenel said in a voice broken with emotion, 
 "so that you may remember the home of your 
 ancestors. It is no longer ours, but we must 
 always treasure it in memory." 
 
 Caroline's large, wistful eyes traveled the 
 length of the picturesque old room, her glance 
 caressing each familiar object: the heavy card 
 tables either side of the fireplace, the brass 
 sconces on the wall above; the pretentious can- 
 vases in their tarnished gilt frames; the hand- 
 some old chairs; the faded gray-blue carpet with 
 its bouquets of pale pink roses. She had always
 
 66 THEN CAME CAROLINE 
 
 loved the carpet, though her mother thought it 
 inexcusably shabby. 
 
 She feasted for a while, then rising, stood in 
 the doorway, looking across the hall into the 
 dining-room. Again her eyes swept the furnish- 
 ings: the great square table with its heavy legs 
 and claw feet; the high, straight-backed chairs; 
 the towering mahogany cupboard filled with 
 shining glass and china; the ponderous, carved 
 sideboard that held cut-glass decanters and silver 
 fruit dishes. 
 
 Suddenly she turned, and without a word 
 rushed up the broad stairs and into her own 
 room, where she remained for some time behind 
 a locked door. 
 
 But there were many happy hours during those 
 last few weeks: visits to friends; dinner parties 
 to which the young people were invited ; farewell 
 entertainments. 
 
 Willie was improving rapidly. Caroline gath- 
 ered courage and went to see him one day. She 
 found him propped in a great easy chair before 
 a sunny bay window, his foot raised on a chair 
 in front of him. 
 
 "I am dreadfully sorry, Willie," she said, when 
 his mother left them alone for a minute. "I 
 I didn't mean to have you get hurt " 
 
 To which Willie replied irrelevantly, "Forget 
 it ! Nobody ever thought of blaming you."
 
 THE WANDERER RETURNS 67 
 
 "I 'spect it was Mamie Jilsen, maybe she got 
 excited " 
 
 "T'wasn't anybody. I just fell that's all 
 anybody's apt to, climbing things. Say, Caro- 
 line, I envy you those mountains out in Colorado. 
 Gee, but I would like to get up to the top of them 
 once. What do you suppose is on the other 
 side?" 
 
 "I will write and tell you, Willie and you 
 must write to me. Tell me everything about the 
 crowd. You mustn't forget anybody, the Jilsens 
 or the Kamseys or the McFees. I like them all." 
 
 And Willie, one year Caroline's senior, and 
 more or less under the spell of her "speckled" 
 eyes, promised faithfully. 
 
 The eventful day came at last, the day when 
 the old house was to be closed and barred. 
 
 "I reckon we won't know the place if we ever 
 come back; the new people are going to build 
 it all over," Caroline said to Maum Rachel. They 
 were standing in the long, bright kitchen. Maum 
 Rachel had been instructed to lock up and bring 
 Caroline to the hotel. 
 
 The old negress did not speak for a moment. 
 When she did, her tones were low and indistinct. 
 
 "I I specs not, honey." 
 
 "It will all be different, Maum Rachel." 
 
 The gray head nodded. For a minute the 
 striking of the old clock was the only sound that
 
 68 THEN CAME CAROLINE 
 
 marred the stillness. Caroline counted the 
 strokes : one, two, three, four. 
 
 "Hadn't you better wind it, Maumy?" she 
 asked. 
 
 "What fur, Missy? They ain't nobody to 
 care." 
 
 But she moved across the room and took the 
 key from a hook. Caroline listened to the fa- 
 miliar grind. 
 
 "Maumy " 
 
 "Yes, honey?" 
 
 "It will go on ticking until Sunday, won't it?" 
 
 "Yes, lammie." 
 
 "And then it will stop still." 
 
 "Yes, it'll stop." 
 
 "And there won't be anybody to start it again. 
 Won't it be lonesome, Maumy, the old clock " 
 
 Through a veil of tears Maum Kachel looked 
 at the scarred face with its straight, pointing 
 hands, the heavy brass pendulum. 
 
 "It didn't seem right to take the old one in 
 the hall Grandfather Kirtley's just because 
 it was tall and handsome, and leave this, did it, 
 Maumy? I told Major so, but he said we had 
 to draw the line somewhere. Tell me about the 
 day Jerusha cooked mother's wedding breakfast 
 by it, Maumy, just once more and how it 
 stopped at the very minute Jerusha died. Please, 
 while I can look at it."
 
 THE WANDERER RETURNS 69 
 
 Rachel sat down and drew Caroline within 
 the bend of her arm. 
 
 "Dat was a long time ago, chile a long, long 
 time ago but I bet Ole Time he ain't fergot." 
 She looked at the clock as if she expected a nod 
 to corroborate her statement. "De wedding it 
 was at noon, and de breakfas' it was to be at one 
 promp'! Jerusha she bake de ham and cook 
 de turkey, and fix de trimmin's, keepin' her eye 
 on Ole Time yander, when all of a sudden she 
 hear de weddin' folks a-comin' back from de 
 church, and it war only twelve o'clock yes'm, 
 twelve o'clock and de turkey wa'nt brown or 
 de biscuits beat, or de sweet taters done or 
 nothin' ! Jerusha she got up on a chair an put 
 her head close to Ole Time thar, and bless you, 
 he'd done stopped short yes'm somepin' in 
 him had broke broke down. Just at twelve, 
 precise!" 
 
 "What made it break, Maumy, do you 'spose 
 just then?" 
 
 "What I 'spose? I know, honey. It war a 
 sure sign. Ole Time was a-trying to tell us thar 
 
 war trouble ahead your Paw " she stopped 
 
 suddenly. 
 
 "And the other time, Maumy, when Jerusha 
 died " 
 
 "They ain't nothin' to tell 'bout dat. He jes' 
 naturally stopped out'n respect, till the fu-
 
 70 THEN CAME CAROLINE 
 
 neral was over just like closin' up a store or 
 
 
 
 'Oh, Haumy," came the child's doubting tones. 
 
 "Fac', honey. Clocks know a heap, always 
 watchin' folks' doin's." 
 
 "Some day I am going to send for him, 
 Maumy," Caroline whispered softly. "Maybe Mr. 
 Lee" Mr. Lee was the new owner "would 
 give him to me. When I get to Colorado, I will 
 write him about it. I reckon we had better be 
 going now." 
 
 She paused in the doorway. "Good-bye, dear 
 old Mr. Time," she said, with a little choke in 
 her voice. "Don't you feel bad. You aren't 
 really forgotten you are just keepin' watch for 
 awhile." 
 
 She blew a fluttering kiss toward the seamy 
 white face and went to find Rufus. 
 
 And Maum Rachel, with a long, trembling 
 sigh, turned the lock in the worn, battered door.
 
 CHAPTER VI 
 
 THE NEW HOME 
 
 MOTHER, I don't like it! I don't like 
 it at all." 
 
 Mayre's doleful face (replica of 
 her mother's in color and outline) was a picture 
 of dismay. 
 
 The long journey from the South was over; 
 and the family had strolled up the wide, wind- 
 swept avenue that led to the new home. 
 
 Caroline, her hand in her father's, frowned. 
 
 "Wait until you've seen the inside before you 
 begin to find fault; you don't live on the out- 
 side," she said, watching her father's face for a 
 shade of disappointment. 
 
 "I think it is very like the photograph, Mayre," 
 he declared cheerfully. 
 
 "But it's painted red, and I hate red. It was 
 
 never meant for anything but the sunsets and 
 
 
 
 "The color seems to be in vogue here," Mrs. 
 Ravenel remarked, looking about. "And it is 
 a very rich, dark red; quite effective too. But 
 I know how you feel, Mayre dear, you are so
 
 72 THEN CAME CAROLINE 
 
 sensitive to color." She put an arm around the 
 shuddering girl and patted her shoulder. 
 
 "Fiddlesticks !" The word came in disgust. 
 
 "Caroline!" 
 
 "Oh, Mother, I beg your pardon. I wasn't 
 speaking to you. Mayre makes me sick, always 
 putting on airs about things and " 
 
 A gentle squeeze of the hand in her own 
 stopped the sentence. 
 
 It was an odd-looking house, set a little apart 
 from its neighbors. Its square tower and ornate 
 trimmings cheapened what was otherwise a very 
 comfortable, well-planned dwelling. 
 
 "That awful thing on the side it makes one 
 think of a fire station that tower " 
 
 "That's where the stairs go up, Mayre," Alison 
 suggested. "I think it's rather nice." 
 
 "Can't you imagine what the view would be 
 from those high windows," Leigh said, lifting 
 her eyes. "I suspect it's an observatory." 
 
 Maum Rachel and Judy, with bulging eyes and 
 heavy hearts, had followed the procession up the 
 street. 
 
 Doctor Ravenel turned from the house, and for 
 a moment stood looking at the giant mountains 
 that walled the valley to the west. 
 
 "Well, Rachel," he said at last, "what do you 
 think of all this?" He waved a hand toward 
 the Rockies.
 
 THE NEW HOME 73 
 
 "I I specs hit's mighty fine fer them 'at likes 
 it, Marsa; they's terrible gran', dem old rocks, 
 
 but " 
 
 She stopped, and shading her eyes with her 
 hand, peered closer. 
 
 "But don't they sort'r shet out the view, 
 Marsa? What's behine 'em? Dat's what I want 
 a know !" 
 
 Even Mayre joined in the laugh that followed, 
 and the Doctor opened the front door. 
 
 "Oh, dear, more red," Mayre said, as she 
 viewed the showy octagonal hall. 
 
 "There was a young person named Mayre 
 
 Who fussed like the very old Harry," 
 sang Caroline in a tone that echoed through the 
 empty house: 
 
 "The blue eyes in her head 
 
 Saw everything red " 
 
 "Children !" 
 
 This fussy young person " 
 
 "Caroline!" 
 
 "Called Mayre!" 
 
 "It is so nice to have a budding poet in the 
 family," Mayre sighed, and turned her attention 
 to the parlors. 
 
 The rooms opened by means of sliding doors. 
 French windows led to the broad veranda. 
 
 "How charming!" Leigh exclaimed, as she 
 opened one and again caught sight of the moun-
 
 74 THEN CAME CAROLINE 
 
 tains. "Oh, Mother, I don't care if the house is 
 gingerbready so long as we have these 
 rooms. Think how pretty they will be when our 
 furniture comes, the sofa before the fireplace 
 
 "It's built of red sandstone the fireplace - 
 isn't it?" began May re. 
 "Her lovely blue eyes never held a surprise 
 
 "Caroline ! You may desist !" Mrs. RaveneFs 
 tone were too gentle to be effective. 
 
 "They saw only red red " 
 
 "Mother, can't she stop!" 
 
 "You stop, then " 
 
 Doctor Ravenel raised a finger. Words were 
 unnecessary. The teasing ceased. 
 
 On the other side of the hall stretched an im- 
 posing dining room; it faced a garden that 
 showed signs of neglect. Mayre shuddered 
 again, but said nothing. The room was papered 
 in blue that bordered on indigo ; a fantastic pat- 
 tern flecked with gold. But opening from the 
 larger room was a smaller one, finished in ivory, 
 even to the table and chairs. 
 
 "A breakfast room! How darling!" Alison 
 cried. Mayre's face brightened. 
 
 "I shall have all my meals here," she declared, 
 "and I will arrange the garden. I think roses 
 would do well it's east, isn't it? Yellow Har-
 
 THE NEW HOME 75 
 
 risons and Sweetbriar, perhaps a Baltimore 
 Belle or two. And over there," she pointed a 
 slender artist's finger, "daffodils and clumps of 
 iris and perhaps some monkshoods and zinnias, 
 and oh, yes, a flowering almond, and against 
 the lattice, honeysuckle " 
 
 "I wouldn't count too much on the flowers; 
 the season is short here," her father interrupted. 
 
 "But some one had a garden ; look at the beds 
 such humpy ones ; no wonder flowers wouldn't 
 grow, poor things." 
 
 Back of the living rooms were the kitchen, 
 pantries, closets and provision rooms. Maum 
 Rachel's eyes widened with surprise as she 
 viewed. 
 
 "Hit's handy," she declared, "but hit means a 
 lot a cleanin', Miss Em'bly. Look at dat gallery 
 crost de back, and de size ob de kitchen. I ain't 
 gwine have no chillun trackin' hit up." She 
 eyed Caroline defiantly. 
 
 The red wall paper followed the hall in its 
 devious wanderings. Caroline paused on the 
 first stair landing. 
 
 "There's a place just like we had at home for 
 Aunt Caroline," she remarked, observing the 
 niche in the wall. "It looks as if it were made 
 for a portrait." 
 
 "Hurrah for Great-aunt," Alison said, taking 
 the stairs at a bound. "She'll tone up the hall
 
 76 THEN CAME CAROLINE 
 
 with her elegance. I wonder if her health is 
 good." 
 
 "And Grandfather can hang down there," 
 Mayre said, half closing her eyes to get the effect 
 of the portrait in the lower hall. "Yes, he will 
 be lovely there, opposite the entrance. The light 
 is fine." 
 
 "And callers can say, as they enter, 'Ahem, 
 F. F. V's ; these people are worth cultivating.' " 
 
 "Alison, that is just a little unnecessary," 
 Mrs. Ravenel admonished, though her face re- 
 flected pride. "I hope that people will not have 
 to see our forbears to know that we are gentle- 
 women." 
 
 "Better lock Caroline in the cellar, then," 
 Mayre suggested, having awaited revenge. 
 
 Maum Rachel nodded her kinky head. 
 
 "Caroline is going to be very careful about 
 choosing her friends here," Mrs. Ravenel con- 
 tinued, with a hopeful smile. "Aren't you, darl- 
 ing? You realize that our happiness depends so 
 much upon our friendships we want refined as- 
 sociates." 
 
 Caroline repeated the word after her : refined. 
 "What does it mean?" she asked, her brows in a 
 pucker. 
 
 "Refined? Why, it means polish, dear." 
 
 "Something you put on the outside of you?" 
 
 "No scarcely that."
 
 THE NEW HOME 77 
 
 "Something like fine?" 
 
 "More than that re-fined. Made better." 
 
 "Isn't it enough to be fine " 
 
 "My dear, we will discuss the word at another 
 time." 
 
 They had reached the second floor^ continuing 
 the inspection of the chambers. 
 
 "What lovely rooms for you and Father," 
 Leigh called, opening the door to the front. "Two 
 splendid ones with the bath between. What 
 more could one ask?" 
 
 "Nothing but this," Alison shouted from the 
 end of the hall. "Do come and see this love of a 
 door with a mirror in it, and the darlingest pink 
 paper on the wall. Oh, Mother, could Mayre and 
 I have this room?" 
 
 The family came trooping. 
 
 "But you can't see the mountains, Alison. I 
 want the view " 
 
 "And I want the mirror," Alison insisted, 
 pirouetting before it. 
 
 "The room is too small for two," Mrs. Kavenel 
 said, and added, "It will be charming for Leigh. 
 Do you not like it, dear? In the spring you can 
 look down on Mayre's garden." 
 
 Leigh's face colored warmly. "I should love 
 it, Mother dear," she said, "and Alison may dress 
 here whenever she likes." 
 
 There were two good-sized rooms across the
 
 78 THEN CAME CAROLINE 
 
 hall. Alison and Mayre decided on the one to 
 the front. Caroline and Hope took the one just 
 back. 
 
 Caroline lingered in her room after the family 
 had passed on. She went over to the window, 
 and opening it, looked out. A handsome house 
 set in the midst of formal gardens and winding 
 paths stood but a stone's throw away. It was an 
 imposing place. A girl of Caroline's own age 
 was walking down the carriage road with a dog 
 in leash. 
 
 Despite her mother's admonitions in regard 
 to chance acquaintances, Caroline made a cup 
 of her hands and gave a cordial hello! 
 
 The girl glanced up. Caroline added a smile 
 and a wave to the hello, but the young person 
 merely dropped her eyes, shrugged, and passed 
 into a near-by pergola. 
 
 "Snubby, isn't she," Caroline muttered, clos- 
 ing the window. Then, race pride getting the 
 better of democracy, she added, "But of course 
 she didn't know I was a Kirtley, so I will have 
 to overlook it." 
 
 The family had gone downstairs to decide on 
 Doctor KaveneFs office quarter, and Caroline 
 took the steps leading to the tower. She drew 
 her breath sharply as she opened the door to the 
 small, box-like room that gave to the west. On 
 two sides there were windows; the view of the
 
 THE NEW HOME 79 
 
 mountains, circling away to the valley, ,was 
 clear and unobstructed. 
 
 Something like a thrill shot through her as 
 she looked out into the sun-drenched silence. At 
 the foot of the mountains lay the peaceful vil- 
 lage. 
 
 "That old fellow over there" she was looking 
 on a mammoth peak "is a giant with his arms 
 stretched wide and these people are his sub- 
 jects. I am one of them now," she thought, mak- 
 ing her quick salute. "Command me, Mighty 
 King !" Her joyous laugh, floating with the soft 
 wind, echoed back. 
 
 She was so entranced that she did not hear 
 her father enter. He slipped her hand into his, 
 and together they stood gazing at the marvelous 
 panorama. 
 
 "Major, it's it's wonderful, isn't it? It it 
 sort of takes away my breath." 
 
 Doctor Ravenel drank in the fresh, pure air 
 with relish. 
 
 "You are thousands of feet nearer the sky 
 than you were at home, honey; that makes you 
 breathe faster. And you ran up-stairs you 
 mustn't do that any more until you are 
 acclimated." 
 
 Caroline put her hand over her heart; it was 
 racing madly. 
 
 "It wasn't just just that I couldn't get my
 
 80 THEN CAME CAROLINE 
 
 breath I felt choked, Major as if as if I 
 couldn't speak couldn't " 
 
 She broke off, unable to make herself under- 
 stood. Years later she realized that her madly 
 beating heart was not only responding to alti- 
 tude but to the splendor of the Rockies. 
 
 "Did you find a place for your office?" she in- 
 quired presently. 
 
 "Yes, I shall take the back parlor. Fortun- 
 ately there is a small room off from it, originally 
 meant for a den, with a door opening to the 
 veranda. The arrangement could scarcely be 
 better." 
 
 "Doesn't it seem sometimes as if things were 
 planned for people?" she asked, w^ith wisdom be- 
 yond her years. "I am going to love this place. 
 I like every inch of it red paper and everything. 
 I am so glad I wasn't born Mayre, Major. I 
 might have been, you know, if I had come third 
 instead of fourth, mightn't I? It must be dread 
 f ul to hate a color so " 
 
 A. softly cushioned bench ran around the 
 windows. Doctor Ravenel sat down and drew 
 Caroline within his arm. 
 
 "You must be very patient with Mayre, dear," 
 he said. "Some people are so sensitively organ- 
 ized that a color annoys almost beyond reason. 
 It is not a whim with Mayre; she is quite sincere. 
 I shall have the hall changed as soon as possible.
 
 THE NEW HOME 81 
 
 It will be soothing to all of us. I, myself, dis- 
 like violent colors." 
 
 As they chatted, the sun dropped behind the 
 peak. A crimson flush followed, and a moment 
 later the sky was a mass of color. The wind 
 rose higher, tearing down the street, bending the 
 cottonwood trees, stripping them of their last 
 leaves. 
 
 Doctor Ravenel buttoned his coat; an evening 
 chill had fallen. "I think we had better get 
 back to the hotel," he said. 
 
 Caroline moved from the window slowly. She 
 wanted to remain a little longer, to watch the 
 glow fade in the west, the wind scampering after 
 it. 
 
 Below, the family had huddled together on the 
 piazza. Maum Rachel, holding down her skirts 
 with her fat, black hands, shook her head re- 
 belliously. 
 
 "Ef hit's gwine blow like this all de time, y'all 
 kin send me back to Virginny. I don't want my 
 haid to part company wif my neack yet a while. 
 I don't like win', and them ole hills yander, they 
 look lak they was up to debilment. I ain't gwine 
 trust 'em. No, m'am! They done got sompin' 
 up their sleeve to spring on folks lightnin' er 
 slycoons." 
 
 She rolled her black eyes until the whites were 
 uppermost and, though Doctor Ravenel assured
 
 82 THEN CAME CAROLINE 
 
 her that cyclones were usually confined to flat 
 country, she kept her gaze from "the hills" until 
 they reached the hotel.
 
 CHAPTER VII 
 
 ADJUSTMENTS 
 
 IT takes longer to settle a house than to dis- 
 mantle it. A month passed before the new 
 dwelling became a home. 
 
 The quaint old Kirtley furniture obliterated 
 many of the architect's queer fancies, and the 
 hall newly tinted (Caroline said it looked like 
 coffee with cream in it), provided an excellent 
 background for the portraits. 
 
 "I do wish we could have new rugs," Mayre 
 sighed, "but I would a heap rather have bare 
 floors than the old carpets. And hard wood is 
 sanitary !" 
 
 Upstairs the bright, sunny rooms were fresh 
 and comfortable, Leigh's especially. A wide 
 couch (transformed at night into a bed), a deep 
 willow chair and an old rosewood desk between 
 the windows gave it the air of a sitting room, 
 which indeed it was. 
 
 "It is the prettiest spot in the house, Sister," 
 Caroline said, her eyes sweeping the one well- 
 chosen picture that adorned the wall, the Martha 
 Washington sewing table, and the worsted
 
 84 THEN CAME CAROLINE 
 
 sampler that hung above it, remnant of Grand- 
 mother Kirtley's handiwork. 
 
 And through the windows, nearly always open, 
 could be seen the wide sweep of avenue with its 
 stately procession of carriages, tandems and dog- 
 carts, their high-seated drivers in livery, such 
 unique turnouts, and so distinctive, that often 
 Leigh dropped her mending to watch them. 
 
 "It is almost like living in a foreign city," 
 Alison said to her mother. "You see people from 
 all over the world. But it is sad to think so 
 many of them have had to leave their homes to 
 find health." 
 
 "It ought to be an excellent place for phy- 
 sicians," Leigh thought. 
 
 Doctor Ravenel had hung his sign on the w r est 
 veranda, but patients were slow in calling. He 
 had also bought a comfortable, second-hand phae- 
 ton and a fat, lazy horse, but so far Selah was 
 driven only for pleasure. 
 
 School was the all-absorbing topic in the 
 family during that first month, for the Ravenel 
 children knew nothing of public schools, having 
 been taught entirely by governesses. 
 
 Alison and Mayre attended the high school, a 
 square, stone building six or eight blocks down 
 the street. Caroline and Hope went to the same 
 building, the lower floor being used for grammar 
 grades.
 
 ADJUSTMENTS 85 
 
 The four girls, neat and attractive in their 
 blue serges and white linen collars, accompanied 
 by a sprightly colored maid ( Mrs. Ravenel would 
 not have thought of allowing them on the streets 
 alone) were distinctly noticeable as they wended 
 their way southward each morning. Many a 
 head turned to watch them. 
 
 It was Caroline who first rebelled about Judy's 
 watchful care. "It makes us look like babies," 
 she pouted. "Everybody turns around to look 
 at us. Please, Mother, let us go to school alone." 
 Doctor Ravenel agreed with Caroline. 
 
 Mrs. Ravenel finally surrendered, setting Judy 
 to other tasks in the morning, but she never 
 failed to say with her good-bye kisses, "Do not 
 allow any one to address you, children, under 
 any circumstances!" 
 
 Caroline avoided disobedience by speaking 
 first. 
 
 She had at last made the acquaintance of the 
 girl in the house across the w r ay. There was no 
 fence between the yards, so that it was a simple 
 matter to stroll leisurely across and say "Good 
 morning." 
 
 "Good morning," the girl had answered 
 pleasantly, moving to make a place on the bench 
 beside her. 
 
 "I am Caroline Ravenel," was the next step. 
 "We've just moved here from the South, and I
 
 86 THEN CAME CAROLINE 
 
 get awfully lonesome. Don't you want to come 
 over and play awhile?" 
 
 "Can't you stay here?" 
 
 Caroline glanced homeward. 
 
 "I guess I can," she answered. 
 
 "I have made a friend," she said a few hours 
 later, when she returned to her own fireside. 
 
 Mrs. Ravenel looked up quickly. 
 
 "Who is it, dear?" she asked. 
 
 "The girl next door. She's perfectly lovely. 
 She can sit on her hair when it's down, it's so 
 long, and she has a dog named Viking." 
 
 "What is her name?" 
 
 "Briggs, I think. I can't just remember. They 
 call her Kathleen. They are very nice people 
 and rich." 
 
 "How did you find that out?" May re asked. 
 
 "She said so." 
 
 "Said they were rich I" 
 
 "Yes; her father made a pile of money up in 
 a place called Cripple Creek, where they take 
 the gold right out of the ground in a bucket. 
 I'm going to tell Major about it." 
 
 "What is her father's business?" Alison asked. 
 It was the hour before dinner, and the family 
 had gathered before the fire. 
 
 "He used to be a carpenter, but now he's a " 
 
 Caroline paused for a minute, her brows drawn 
 in a frown.
 
 ADJUSTMENTS 87 
 
 "A carpenter !" Alison's tones were patroniz- 
 ing. 
 
 "Yes what's wrong about- that?" 
 
 "Carpenters are are sort of lowly people, 
 Caroline." 
 
 "I know like Jesus." 
 
 There was a moment's silence. 
 
 "But he's not that now. I am trying to think 
 what she said. Oh, yes, I know. Now, he's a 
 banker. A wholesale banker." 
 
 "A wholesale what?" 
 
 "Banker." 
 
 "You must mean baker, dear." 
 
 "No, I don't. They have a lovely house. Much 
 bigger than this. And new furniture. It shines. 
 I told her about our being Kirtleys. I guess 
 that's why she said they were rich. I said at 
 home it was wonderful to be a Kirtley. Every- 
 body looked up to you " 
 
 "My dear child, you did not say that !" Mrs. 
 Ravenel gasped. 
 
 "Somebody had to tell it," Caroline remarked, 
 stifling a yawn. "How would folks know? I 
 told Kathleen to come over and I would show 
 her my grandfather's picture, and my aunt that's 
 lots richer than they are, and is going to leave 
 me her fortune some day " 
 
 "Will you bring me my smelling salts, Mayre 
 darling?" Mrs. Ravenel asked, relaxing in her
 
 88 THEN CAME CAROLINE 
 
 chair. "Your father must talk to Caroline. I 
 seem to make no impression " 
 
 "That was what I was trying to do, but nobody 
 seems to 'predate it," Caroline said and flounced 
 out of the room. 
 
 As the winter drew on, other friends were 
 added. Mildred Berne, who lived in the little 
 house in the lot back, and Frances Kingdon who 
 sat behind Caroline in school. Mayre and Alison 
 were also making acquaintances slowly, as be- 
 came Kirtleys. 
 
 Mrs. Ravenel and Leigh were not so fortunate. 
 As the days lengthened, they depended more and 
 more upon each other for companionship, joining 
 Doctor Eavenel on the sunny veranda when the 
 weather permitted, or before the cosy fire in the 
 drawing-room. 
 
 Doctor Ravenel was gaining daily. The clean, 
 stimulating air had put new life into him. There 
 were times when he walked down the avenue 
 without a tremor of fatigue. He had abandoned 
 the front bedchamber and pitched a tent in the 
 back yard. There he slept in all kinds of weather, 
 the flap of his domicile open to the elements. It 
 was suicidal, his wife thought, yet he gained 
 strength rapidly. ' 
 
 Mrs. Ravenel missed her friends sadly. Caro- 
 line, coming in unawares one day, found her 
 very much depressed.
 
 ADJUSTMENTS 89 
 
 "What makes Mother look so sad, Leigh?" she 
 asked, with a catch in her voice. 
 
 "I think she gets a little lonely, perhaps. It 
 is hard to give up one's old friends, and for some 
 unknown reason people are very slow about 
 calling." 
 
 "Kathleen says it is because they think nobody 
 is going to stay long here. People come and go, 
 all the time; you make a friend and then lose 
 her. That hurts too." 
 
 Caroline pondered over her mother's situation 
 for some days. Finally she determined to adjust 
 the difficulty. 
 
 She returned from school one afternoon quite 
 late. Leigh was anxiously peering down the 
 street when she saw the brown head bobbing 
 around the corner. 
 
 "Where have you been, dear? Sister has been 
 alarmed " 
 
 Caroline laid a finger on her lip. "Sh," she 
 said. "Come upstairs." 
 
 She stopped in her own room to leave her hat 
 and coat. When she entered Leigh's sunny 
 quarters she was wearing a broad smile. 
 
 "Sit down and I will tell you," she com- 
 manded, pushing her sister into the wicker chair 
 by the window. "You know the other day when 
 I found Mother so so unhappy well I 
 knew something had to be done, or she'd be want-
 
 90 THEN CAME CAROLINE 
 
 ing to go back to Virginia. So I thought up a 
 plan." 
 
 She bent closer, her small, round face lighting 
 up in anticipation of her sister's surprise. "You 
 see, I got to thinking about how she used to love 
 to sit on the veranda at home and tell Mrs. Fair- 
 field and Miss Rose and Mrs. Boiling about us 
 how we were borned you in Massachusetts, 
 which always made her feel so bad, and me in 
 Vermont, and Mayre in the Philippines, which 
 was most as bad " 
 
 "Yes, dear, and what did you do?" Leigh 
 asked with bated breath. 
 
 "So I " Caroline gave a little chuckle, 
 
 eloquent of satisfaction, "I thought of a way to 
 make people call, I " 
 
 "You what?" Leigh leaned closer. "Tell me 
 quickly; what did you do?" 
 
 "I'm trying to tell you, Sister; don't get so 
 excited. I took some of her calling cards, those 
 nice ones that say 'Mrs. Robert Ellington Rav- 
 enel' on them, and I picked out six of the best- 
 looking houses around here just six I know 
 Mother doesn't care for many people, and I put 
 one under each door " 
 
 "Caroline!" Leigh had risen, pale and angry 
 before the astonished child. "Caroline! You 
 didn't! You could not have been so naughty." 
 
 "Naughty? Why, what's naughty about that?
 
 ADJUSTMENTS 91 
 
 Every one of those people will owe her a call. 
 I had a funny time at one place. I thought I 
 heard some one coming, so I held on to the card 
 and then somebody took hold of it on the other 
 side of the door, and we kept seesawing, like 
 this " the chuckle rose to a giggle. 
 
 The color leaped into Leigh's face again. She 
 looked at Caroline in bewilderment. "I think," 
 she said slowly, "I think sometimes Maumy 
 Rachel is right ; you are possessed of something ! 
 Do you know what you have done? You have 
 disgraced Mother so that no one will call. No 
 one ! We are strangers here. We have no right 
 to thrust ourselves upon people." 
 
 The light went out of Caroline's face. 
 
 "Oh, Leigh, I only wanted to help I what 
 can I do about it?" 
 
 "I don't know. I shall have to think. But 
 you must not tell Mother. Not at present. It 
 would make her positively ill." 
 
 Caroline left the room very much in the man- 
 ner of a puppy that had brought a stick and 
 been punished for it. 
 
 The next morning being Saturday, she was 
 somewhat surprised to find Leigh hovering over 
 her bed at rather an early hour. The children 
 were permitted to sleep late on holidays. Doctor 
 Ravenel insisted upon it 
 
 "Get dressed and come into my room at once,"
 
 92 THEN CAME CAROLINE 
 
 Leigh commanded. "Put on your school clothes." 
 
 When Caroline appeared at the door across 
 the hall, Leigh pulled her into the room quickly. 
 
 "If .the girls ask where you are going, you may 
 say I am sending you on an errand," she said. 
 
 "All right. Where am I going?" 
 
 "You are going to each of the houses where 
 you left those cards yesterday and ask for them. 
 Do you understand? Ask for them!" 
 
 "What shall I say I want them for?" 
 
 "You may say that you made a mistake. You 
 will not be far from the truth." 
 
 "Oh, Leigh, that will be hard to do. Couldn't 
 you go?" 
 
 "I? Scarcely. Go at once and don't loiter." 
 
 From behind her own blind, Leigh watched 
 the dejected little figure as it lagged up the 
 street. Annoyed as she was. she could scarcely 
 repress a smile. 
 
 A half-hour passed and Caroline did not re- 
 turn. Another w T ent slowly by. Leigh put on 
 her hat and coat and walked a block or two. 
 
 Presently she saw Caroline skipping down the 
 street. In her hand she held five begrimed pieces 
 of cardboard. Leigh counted them. 
 
 "Where is the other?" she demanded. 
 
 "The lady couldn't find it, but it didn't matter. 
 She was out on her front porch, and I explained, 
 so she understood. She asked me to sit a while
 
 ADJUSTMENTS 93 
 
 with her. We had a lovely time. She asked 
 about you and Mother and the Major. She said 
 she had seen us in church." 
 
 A few days later, Leigh, coming in from a 
 walk, found a very charming looking woman 
 chatting with her mother in the drawing-room. 
 Maum Kachel, in her best cap and apron, was 
 serving tea. 
 
 "Mrs. Ludlow, dear," her mother said, in pre- 
 senting the guest. 
 
 "I know your sister," Mrs. Ludlow said, ex- 
 tending a cordial hand. "The irresistible little 
 brown one who calls her father 'Major.' I was 
 just saying to your mother that I hope you will 
 let us borrow her often. Unfortunately, my girls 
 are boys!" 
 
 After all, Caroline had helped.
 
 CHAPTER VIII 
 OLD MB. TIME 
 
 WINTER in Colorado, the Ravenel family 
 decided, was a thing of moods and jests. 
 Often they awakened to find the snow 
 beating against the window panes with snch 
 force that they arose in alarm. But in an hour's 
 time, the sun had pierced the mass of clouds 
 hovering to the north and dried the sidewalks 
 so that rubbers were superfluous. Yet there 
 were times when the old Peak drew his white 
 hood closer about his ears and winked at "his 
 subjects." 
 
 Maumy Rachel seemed to sense those sportive 
 moods. 
 
 "Y'all better look out this mawnin'," she would 
 say as the girls started for school. "I'se gwine 
 put sompin' extry in yer lunch basket. Lord 
 knows when y'll get home agin. Mebby never. 
 I don't lak the looks of the ole man up yander. 
 He got a bad eye !" 
 
 "He's an old fraud," Caroline declared. 
 "Kathleen says they haven't had any sledding
 
 OLD MR. TIME 95 
 
 here since goodness knows when. He's always 
 making such a rumpus, but it never amounts to 
 anything. I want some sleigh-riding and skat- 
 ing." 
 
 "Y' jes' wait, Missy," was Rachel's warning. 
 "Don't be too sassy. I spec he's got an ear out, 
 if he does wear a nightcap." 
 
 All of which showed that the family had fallen 
 in line with the populace and looked upon the 
 old monster as a weather king. 
 
 There came a day, just before Christmas, when 
 he went on what Rachel called a "bust." He 
 acted so badly that she went into her room and 
 hid between two feather beds until he regained 
 his senses. The wind began in the morning, 
 racing up the street, chasing the tumbleweeds 
 and scattering the dust on Judy's clean windows. 
 Snow began to fall; lightly at first, then drop- 
 ping in such big, feathery balls that the family 
 flocked to the front of the house to watch the 
 storm. 
 
 There was no school. The wind forbade walk- 
 ing ; the snow became a blinding mass. 
 
 About noon Doctor Ravenel's telephone bell 
 rang. Leigh answered. It was a call to a desper- 
 ately sick child on the west side of town. 
 
 "You can't possibly go, Father," Leigh said, 
 turning toward him anxiously. "You would 
 have to ride into the storm it's all from the
 
 96 THEN CAME CAROLINE 
 
 west and you would be taking a frightful 
 chance with your health." 
 
 "I must go as soon as it clears," he answered. 
 "They are evidently very poor people, and every 
 one has refused assistance." 
 
 It was three o'clock before the storm spent it- 
 self. On the streets the snow lay in a thick pall, 
 drifting, in places, higher than a man's head. 
 The Peak had donned his long, white mantle. 
 
 Leigh was not w r ell, so her father refused her 
 offer to accompany him. "I shall take Caroline," 
 he said, to the child's great joy. "She can hold 
 Selah while I make the call." 
 
 Rachel, coming out of seclusion, brought hot 
 bricks and a warm buffalo robe (Mr. Lee had 
 kindly left it in the attic), mumbling her dis- 
 approval. 
 
 "Marsa's gwine kill hisself for these po' white 
 trash," she said to Judy. "Ef hit'd bin some- 
 body wo'th a dollar, he'd a tole 'em to wait till 
 mawnin' " which was the truth. 
 
 It was all Selah could do to pull through the 
 snow, particularly in the outskirts of town where 
 drivers had not yet ventured. 
 
 As they neared the location that had been 
 given him, Doctor Ravenel began to look about 
 anxiously. They passed the last house on the 
 street and started up a long hill that led to a 
 few scattered tents well on the rim, Selah pulled
 
 OLD MR. TIME 97 
 
 valiantly, stopping now and then to get her wind, 
 or to try a cautious foot in the white blanket that 
 spread before her. 
 
 "This must be the place," Doctor Kavenel said, 
 stopping at a tent boarded halfway up the sides. 
 
 Caroline gave a gasp of surprise. 
 
 "Oh, Major, not there !" she cried. "Why, any- 
 body would die in a place like that ! They would 
 freeze to death." 
 
 Her father shook his head as he pulled a 
 blanket from under the seat to cover Selah. Then 
 he tucked the robe about Caroline until only her 
 golden-brown eyes sparkled above. There was no 
 need to hold the reins. Selah drooped in her 
 tracks. 
 
 Ten minutes passed, and the doctor lingered. 
 Ten more. Caroline fidgeted under the robe. 
 Her curiosity finally got the better of her. She 
 wanted to know what was going on in that miser- 
 able make-believe of a house. 
 
 She slipped out of the phaeton and edged 
 around to the back, sinking into the snow above 
 her knees as she went. As she had hoped, there 
 was a window, a small, inadequate affair, but 
 near enough to the ground to afford a peep 
 within. For a moment she forgot cold and dis- 
 comfort in what she saw. 
 
 On a pallet made of rags and straw lay a girl 
 of about her own age, tossing and moaning with
 
 98 THEN CAME CAROLINE 
 
 delirium. A woman knelt beside her, caressing 
 the hot forehead, trying to stay the nervous, out- 
 flung hands. The Major sat near, watching the 
 child, sometimes catching at the waving hands, 
 holding them for an instant, his fingers on the 
 racing pulse. His eyes were troubled. 
 
 Beyond the woman stood a sheet-iron stove, 
 cold as the cheerless room. Caroline saw her 
 father button his coat across his chest and turn 
 to the woman. She shook her head in answer 
 to his question and turned away her face. 
 
 Caroline could stand no more. She trudged 
 back through the snow and cuddled under the 
 black robe. When her father came out he was 
 very silent. 
 
 They had gone perhaps a quarter of a mile 
 when Selah stopped before a comfortable house. 
 Doctor Kavenel rang the doorbell. He stood for 
 a moment speaking with a kind, motherly look- 
 ing woman. She went into the house and came 
 back with a scuttle of coal and an armful of 
 wood. 
 
 Up the hill Selah plodded again. This time 
 the Major was not so long. He looked relieved 
 when he came back. 
 
 "Were were they cold, Major?" 
 
 "Very, Caroline." 
 
 "I know I peeked in the window at the back. 
 You were gone so long."
 
 OLD MR. TIME 99 
 
 Instead of scolding, he looked at her gravely. 
 
 "I am rather glad that you did," he said. "It 
 will not hurt you to know how others suffer. 
 You have been sheltered, thank God. That poor 
 baby in there " 
 
 He did not finish the sentence. 
 
 "But, Major, you will make her well. You can 
 do everything." 
 
 "I shall try, Caroline. But she must have a 
 great many things. Warm clothes and food, a 
 better bed. I wonder if you would be willing to 
 give up a part of your Christmas the tree, per- 
 haps, and " 
 
 Caroline's eyes glowed. "Oh, could I?" she 
 said, and her voice took on its sweetest cadence. 
 "Could I, Major ; would you let me ?" 
 
 "We'll talk with mother about it." 
 
 Despite the heavy storm, Christmas day broke 
 bright and clear. The sun blazed down on the 
 old Peak, aiming straight at his snowy hood. 
 Doctor Eavenel called Maum Kachel to see him, 
 he looked so friendly. 
 
 The servants had risen early. Caroline heard 
 Judy at Leigh's door long before breakfast time, 
 calling, "Christmas gif ! Miss Leigh, Christmas 
 gif!" And then Maum Rachel's deeper tones: 
 "Christmas gif! Miss Em'bly. Christmas gif!" 
 
 And yet, it scarcely seemed like Christmas 
 when the family congregated in the drawing-
 
 100 THEN CAME CAROLINE 
 
 room before breakfast, as was the usual custom. 
 Here, in the land of pines, there was no Christ- 
 mas tree; but red berries nodded cheerfully in 
 copper jardinieres and a glowing fire crackled 
 on the hearth. 
 
 "It doesn't seem in the least like Christmas," 
 Mayre said to her mother, "away from all our 
 friends and no celebration." 
 
 "We are all together, darling, and your father 
 is gaining every day. Is not that enough?" 
 
 "It's everything!" Caroline had overheard 
 the remark and cut in as usual. "And I would 
 a heap rather give our money to those poor peo- 
 ple on the west side than to have a tree." 
 
 Mrs. Ravenel stooped and kissed the hot 
 cheeks. 
 
 "It is better to give than to receive," she 
 murmured softly. 
 
 There had been a few gifts, to be sure, mere 
 reminders of the day: a sketching portfolio for 
 May re, a new blouse for Alison, writing paper 
 for Caroline, who was always scribbling letters 
 to her friends at home, a new doll for Hope. 
 
 The servants too, had been remembered, and 
 while pleased with their gifts, their faces held 
 a homesick, longing expression. 
 
 The early morning brought a pleasant sur- 
 prise. The express wagon stopped in front of 
 the house and a man carried in a long, preten-
 
 OLD MR. TIME 101 
 
 tious-looking box. It was addressed to Miss 
 Caroline Ravenel. 
 
 Judy found a hammer, and Maum Rachel, 
 alert and expectant, pulled away the papers and 
 straw that hid the gift. When she finally un- 
 covered it, she gave a cry of joy. 
 
 "Fer de lub of de Lord !" she cried. "Ef hit 
 aint ole 'Mr. Time,' Miss Caroline. Don't he 
 look natural big as life ! Well, well, de good 
 Gord he don't ferget the poor ole Etheopes after 
 all ". 
 
 "But it's mine, Maum Rachel " 
 
 "Don't make no difference who he b'long to. 
 He's gwine to hang in my kitchen." 
 
 She lifted the old clock tenderly and laid 
 her face against the cold, scarred one. 
 
 "Le's get him up, Marsa," she said tremu- 
 lously. "I can't wait fer to hear him tick. I 
 knows he's got a lot a tales to tell me 'bout 
 ole Virginny. I spec he's brung a message from 
 Rufus, and Marthy, and my boy Dorwin. I 
 specs he got some'pin to say 'bout little Massa 
 Willie and de Jilsens." 
 
 She looked at Caroline through a mist of 
 tears. 
 
 "Aren't you glad that I wrote for him, 
 Maumy? I told Mr. Lee how we missed him 
 you and I and how lonesome he was without 
 a Kirtley to wind him up "
 
 102 THEN CAME CAROLINE 
 
 Maum Rachel didn't let her finish the sen- 
 tence. She caught her in her arms and hugged 
 the breath out of her. 
 
 But the pleasantest time of the whole day 
 was when Maum Rachel began packing the bas- 
 ket that Caroline and her father were to carry- 
 to the Middleton family on the west side. 
 Caroline put on her long gingham apron (since 
 the stay at the Watts farm she kept one handy 
 and never murmured about helping) and 
 wrapped the fresh bread and cake in white wax 
 paper, poured the steaming chicken soup in 
 glass jars and screwed on the lids, decorated 
 Maumy Rachel's famous mince pie (no one in 
 the world could make mince pies like Maumy) 
 with a sprig of red berries, found a place in the 
 basket for the sliced ham, oranges and apples. 
 She brought from the ice-box a pat of golden 
 butter. 
 
 "Let's be very careful where we put this, it's 
 so apt to get squashed," she said handling it 
 gently. "It's hard to make." 
 
 She laid it in the basket and stretched her 
 arms, remembering the pain of her one churning. 
 She had never looked at butter since that day 
 without wincing. 
 
 When she finished with the basket she went 
 up to her own room and stood for a few moments 
 deep in meditation. The basket was a gift from
 
 OLD MR. TIME 103 
 
 the family. Her own contribution had not been 
 decided upon. 
 
 She brought from the closet her warm blue 
 bathrobe (Leigh had just finished it a few days 
 before, for the old one was getting shabby) and 
 took a pair of knitted slippers from the shoe 
 bag on the closet door. 
 
 She stood for some minutes before her bu- 
 reau. Finally she opened a drawer and took 
 out a small velvet box. In it reposed a gold 
 ring, set with a small cluster of pearls. It had 
 been given to her on her last birthday, but as 
 her mother did not approve of children wearing 
 jewelry to school, it had been put away for 
 proper occasions. 
 
 Caroline looked at it long and tenderly. Then 
 she put it away and closed the drawer quickly. 
 
 She had wrapped the robe and slippers in a 
 paper when she went back and looked at the 
 ring again. She took it from the box, tried it 
 on her third finger, held the hand off to admire 
 the effect. Then she laid it in the box again. 
 She had tied up the package and started for 
 the door when she went back to the drawer. 
 This time she did not take the ring from the 
 velvet box. She opened the parcel and thrust 
 it inside the robe, hastily tying the package. 
 
 "I'm only just lending it," she said, as she 
 sped to the barn and tucked the parcel under
 
 104 THEN CAME CAROLINE 
 
 the flap of the carriage seat. "Some day when 
 she's well, I'll ask her for it. She wouldn't 
 keep it if she knew how much I love it. I'm 
 just going to let her wear it while she's getting 
 well. It will be so nice to look at." 
 
 The tent on the hill was not nearly so dole- 
 ful looking this time; smoke curled from the 
 short tin pipe in the rear, and the snow had 
 vanished from the yard, so magical is Colorado's 
 sunshine. 
 
 Once more Caroline ventured to the back 
 window. The child lay white and exhausted 
 on the pallet, her long, neatly brushed curls 
 spread on the pillow. The mother's face was 
 all aglow. 
 
 "She's better, isn't she, Major?" Caroline 
 said, when her father came back to the phaeton. 
 
 "Yes, she is going to live," he answered softly. 
 "She passed the crisis last night." 
 
 "I I left a little package for her at the back 
 door. Do you suppose they will find it?" she 
 asked, after a moment's pause. "I shouldn't 
 like it to get lost or stolen for it was some- 
 thing nice." 
 
 The Major assured her of its safety, but being 
 very much occupied with his own thoughts, 
 failed to inquire what the package held or if 
 her mother had been consulted in regard to it. 
 
 That night, when Caroline was helping Maum
 
 OLD MR. TIME 105 
 
 Rachel make sandwiches to serve with hot 
 chocolate before the drawing-room fire (that was 
 always a part of the Christmas festivities), she 
 said softly: 
 
 "Did <Mr. Time' really bring you a message, 
 Maumy?" 
 
 "E7m-hugh," Maum Kachel said, tasting the 
 salad dressing. "He sure did." She glanced 
 at the old clock, ticking above the kitchen sink. 
 "He told me a heap of things." 
 
 "What, Maumy?" 
 
 "Oh, 'bout Eufus' rheumatiz, an' Marthy's 
 neuralgia, an' a fine new pickaninny they got 
 down to Dorwin's " 
 
 "But you knew all that before." 
 
 "Not the p'tic'lars, honey. I jes' knew fac's. 
 They's a heap a difference." 
 
 "Maumy " 
 
 "Yes." 
 
 "Do you suppose he's got any word for me?" 
 
 "I specs so, lammie." 
 
 "Well why doesn't he tell me?" 
 
 "He done have to be in de mood, Missy. I 
 think ef you come in here long 'bout bedtime 
 and set down in my ole chair when de house 
 is real still you'll hear all you wants to know 
 and see things, too that is, ef you lay yer 
 head back and shet yer eyes " 
 
 "Do I have to come alone, Maumy?"
 
 106 THEN CAME CAROLINE 
 
 "I'll be somewhere 'round." 
 
 It was after the rest of the family were all 
 in bed that Caroline crept down the long wind- 
 ing stair and found her way in the moonlight 
 to the kitchen. The room was warm and cosy, 
 still spicy with Christmas goodies. 
 
 She drew the chair in front of the clock and 
 lay back against the turkey-red cushion. 
 
 "Mr. Time" paid no attention except to say, 
 "tick-tock, tick-tock, tick-tock." 
 
 But by and by the tick-tock changed to words. 
 Caroline was so sleepy she could scarcely credit 
 them at first, but gradually she got their mean- 
 ing oh, so slowly, for her ears were dull, her 
 eyelids heavy. 
 
 And then the most marvelous thing happened. 
 She was at home again out in the back yard 
 that ran to the low green hills. Willie was 
 there, and Mamie Jilsen and Nora McGee ; they 
 were romping hopping over the woodpile 
 chasing the chickens and the old turkey gob- 
 bler playing at hide and seek. 
 
 And just as she was starting a race with 
 Willie, such a race, for Nora was clapping her 
 hands and betting on her; Nora always bet on 
 Caroline and won somebody lifted her and 
 carried her away so far that Willie reached the 
 goal while she was struggling, and the 
 
 Then she felt herself sinking down down
 
 OLD MR. TIME 107 
 
 down into the softest, warmest nest, and a 
 coverlet was tucked around her snugly, and 
 some one whispered: 
 
 "Gord bless her liT, innercent heart 
 Maumy's liT gal 
 
 "She's gwine fer to rest 
 Per de win' is in de west 
 In de west, in the west 
 Umn, umn, umn." 
 
 And she fe"ll asleep, hoping she might dream 
 what the old clock forgot to finish.
 
 CHAPTER IX 
 
 NEW FEIENDS 
 
 " T" F Mr. Thoreau had lived in Colorado he 
 would never have made that little bon 
 mot about Spring," Mayre sighed one 
 windy March morning. 
 
 "What was it he said?" Alison asked. They 
 were in the breakfast room looking out on the 
 belated garden. 
 
 "Oh, you know. Mother read it the other 
 night. 'March fans it, April christens it, and 
 May puts on its jacket and trousers!' But not 
 here. March blows it away." 
 
 "I never saw such wind in my life," Alison 
 complained. "No wonder Maumy hates it. She 
 declares that some day it will pick her up bodily 
 and carry her off." 
 
 "Well, if she lands in Virginia, she won't 
 mind." 
 
 For a moment they stood looking down the 
 avenue. 
 
 "And I was to play tennis with Jimmy Lud- 
 low to-day. We had it all arranged. Oh dear !" 
 
 "And I wanted to get the sweet peas planted.
 
 NEW FRIENDS 109 
 
 See that wind ! It's blowing the soil off the top 
 of my zinnia beds. No one could nave a garden 
 here. Look at that poor peach tree. My heart 
 aches for it. Every time it sprouts a leaf, zip 
 comes the frost and nips it. I'd give up try- 
 ing." 
 
 "Father says you can get a good lesson in 
 patience from it. 'If at first you don't succeed, 
 try, try ' " Mayre finished with a laugh. 
 
 "And die in the attempt." 
 
 "Anyway, you would have tried. You would 
 have have defied the frost and the wind 
 and " 
 
 "Fate!" finished Alison. "Peach trees were 
 never meant for Colorado, this part of it, any- 
 way. It can't be done. Not any more than 
 than Hopie can learn music." 
 
 The steady beat of a five-finger exercise came 
 from the region of the drawing-room; a demon- 
 stration of Mrs. Ravenel's faith in providence. 
 She intended to have one musician out of her 
 five possibilities. She had begun with Leigh, 
 descending the line without result. 
 
 "From whom would we get talent, Mother 
 dear?" Leigh once asked. "You are not musical, 
 neither is Father " 
 
 "Your Great-aunt Caroline was exceptionally 
 gifted," Mrs. Eavenel answered, with a sigh. 
 "I remember so well how she used to play for
 
 110 THEN CAME CAROLINE 
 
 us, although I was little more than a baby when 
 she married and went away she was my fath- 
 er's youngest sister " 
 
 "You couldn't expect her to do more than 
 leave us her money, dearest," Alison had inter- 
 rupted. "I should prefer her diamonds to talent 
 and a rope of pearls !" 
 
 The wind continued to screech and roar up 
 the street, and Alison turned with a frown. 
 
 "I reckon I might as well go and dip my 
 white blouse," she remarked, as she turned from 
 the window. The next time you see it, it will 
 have colored with shame to a blush rose !" 
 
 In a family of five, clothes became a problem. 
 Alison was resourceful. 
 
 Mayre watched her as she turned into the hall 
 and ran lightly up the stairs. One liked to 
 watch Alison. She was so handsome, her move- 
 ments so graceful. 
 
 She was taller than her sisters, though not 
 too tall: the Kirtley plumpness (which in later 
 years usually became a source of worry) took 
 from her height. In looking at her, one had the 
 impression of a straight, wholesome young crea- 
 ture, alive with vitality. Her features were regu- 
 lar, her skin fair, an olive tinge underlying it, her 
 eyes large and dark. Like all the Kirtleys, she 
 had a wealth of hair, soft and brown as a 
 thrush's wing. It had a habit of straying about
 
 NEW FRIENDS 111 
 
 her temples in tiny ringlets and like tendrils 
 curled at her neck, either side of her flat, wide 
 braid. Alison was always threatening to put 
 her hair up, but so far Leigh and her mother 
 had dissuaded her. 
 
 Mayre was altogether different. She lacked 
 Alison's beauty, but there was a distinction 
 about her quite as arrestive. She was neither 
 dark nor fair. Her hair was brown, sunnier than 
 her sister's, and her eyes were as blue as violets. 
 She had a habit of keeping them half-closed, as 
 if to shut in visions, but when she opened them, 
 they were surprisingly large, their expression 
 wistful. 
 
 Mayre was petite and dainty. She cared 
 very little about clothes, so long as they were 
 suitable and artistic. She had very definite 
 ideas about the making of them though, and 
 often designed frocks for her sisters. 
 
 There were those who declared that Caroline 
 gave promise of "looks" when she had outgrown 
 the "gangling" age and put on flesh. At eleven 
 or near there she ran to legs and arms. Her 
 face was small and piquant; her mouth wide 
 and shapely ; her nose had an inclination to turn 
 away from the arched red lip beneath, an uppish 
 tendency which nature had thwarted in the nick 
 of time, for a degree's curve more would have 
 made its irresistible sauciness commonplace.
 
 112 THEN CAME CAROLINE 
 
 But her eyes redeemed whatever her face 
 lacked in beauty: expressive eyes, one minute 
 dancing with happiness, the next clouded with 
 pain. Sometimes they were calm and placid, 
 again stirred with passion. It was then that 
 they lost their sunny glow, and the splashes 
 grew to velvet blackness. 
 
 The wind died about noon. At two Alison 
 came down the stairs looking like a rose in the 
 disguised blouse and white wool skirt. Under 
 her arm she held a tennis racket. 
 
 "Will you be at home for tea?" her mother 
 asked, as she passed her in the hall. Afternoon 
 tea w r as a regular institution in the Kavenel 
 household ; they were quite English in the habit. 
 
 "Perhaps," Alison called back. "Ask Maumy 
 to make muffins. Jimmy loves them." 
 
 By four the veranda had filled with chance 
 guests, for people were beginning to enjoy the 
 hospitality of the Southern family and spoke 
 often of the delightful atmosphere in the trans- 
 formed "Lee" house. 
 
 Mrs. Ludlow brought her work, towels which 
 she was endlessly embroidering, and Mrs. Rave- 
 nel had some fine sew r ing; she loved to whip the 
 lace on the girls' dainty lingerie. Doctor 
 Ravenel sat near he was seldom busy after 
 four, reserving that hour for calls, when neces- 
 sary his warm plaid steamer rug drawn over
 
 NEW FRIENDS 113 
 
 his knees. March is often sunny at the foot of 
 the Rockies, but not always warm. 
 
 'A little farther along on the veranda, Leigh 
 sat with Blair Newland, Mrs. Ludlow's nephew, 
 a tall, delicate young man of twenty, who 
 seemed very much interested in Leigh's handi- 
 work or her hands for he bent toward her. 
 He had a fine, high-bred face. His home was in 
 New York, but a sensitive throat had driven 
 him from college to Colorado. 
 
 Across from Mrs. Ravenel sat Mrs. Matthews, 
 a slight, nervous-looking woman, who had spent 
 her life in Colorado and resented the slightest 
 criticism of its climate, 
 
 If one complained, Mrs. Matthews invariably 
 said, "but you mustn't judge us by this" "this" 
 meaning wind or snow or sleet "because it is 
 most unusual. I don't know when I have seen 
 a windy March before. Last year was perfect. 
 I remember " and so on. 
 
 Mrs. Matthews had a son, Smedley, a lean, 
 lank, obtrusive youth, generally disliked by the 
 young people in the neighborhood and at high 
 school. He was one of those persons, to be found 
 in every circle, who had a very high opinion 
 of his own ability and especially of his humor, 
 which was often a bore. "Punny Matthews", 
 the boys called him. 
 
 He was not present this afternoon, but his
 
 114 THEN CAME CAROLINE 
 
 mother kept him in mind by constant references. 
 
 "If you will excuse me, I will see about tea," 
 Mayre said, when she had tired of the chatter. 
 "Maumy seems to be late." 
 
 As she spoke, Caroline came up the veranda 
 steps with Kathleen Briggs, and Maumy ap- 
 peared at the French window with the service. 
 
 It was always a pretty sight to see the daught- 
 ers of the house rallying to their mother's as- 
 sistance. Caroline immediately took around the 
 tea napkins, and Mayre stood at Mrs. Ravenel's 
 right hand, waiting to serve the tea in the pink 
 luster cups. No one was ever allowed to touch 
 those cups but Maum Eachel, and she would have 
 mourned in sackcloth and ashes if one had been 
 chipped or broken 
 
 "Sugar, Mrs. Ludlow?" Mayre asked, as she 
 deposited a plate. 
 
 Mrs. Ludlow looked up, smiling. 
 
 "Say it again, Mayre," she begged. 
 
 "gay sugar?" 
 
 "Please." 
 
 "Sugar, Mrs. Ludlow?" 
 
 Mrs. Ludlow's laugh rippled away to where 
 the Doctor sat smiling. 
 
 "Oh, these adorable children of yours!" she 
 called. "Their accent is the most delicious 
 thing. Sugah ! I do hope it won't vanish in a 
 Western burr. Mayre, if you lose your accent,
 
 NEW FRIENDS 115 
 
 I shan't give you that coming-out party I prom- 
 ised you the other day. Kemember!" 
 
 "Smedley's going to have a party soon," Mrs. 
 Matthews began, but her sentence was lost in 
 the coming of Alison and Jimmy. 
 
 All eyes turned to watch them: a charming 
 pair, Jimmy handsome in his tennis flannels. 
 
 Alison's face was flushed. She threw her 
 racket to Caroline with a, "Carry it inside, will 
 you, honey; I am so tired. Such a game! I 
 trounced Jimmy soundly !" 
 
 Caroline moved toward the door slowly. She 
 could not take her eyes from her sister. 
 
 "Oh, Alison," she said, "you look so pretty 
 with your face all pink. It's your blouse, isn't 
 it? It's the same color." Then turning to the 
 guests proudly. "She dyed it this morning. It 
 used to be white. You didn't think at first you 
 could do anything with it " 
 
 A warning cough from her mother stopped 
 the information, but it came too late. A laugh 
 went around the veranda. 
 
 Caroline stood confused and ill at ease. 
 
 "Shouldn't I have told it?" she asked frankly, 
 looking from her father to her mother. 
 
 "Of course you should, you bewitching young- 
 ster!" Mrs. Ludlow cried, pulling Caroline 
 nearer. "Why not? It's the very thing I am 
 going to do to one of Jim's silk shirts only
 
 116 THEN CAME CAROLINE 
 
 I'm afraid he won't stand for a blush rose " 
 
 "Go as far as you like!" came the laughing 
 tones of her son. 
 
 Caroline wandered over to her father and 
 eat on the arm of his chair. Maum Rachel, 
 passing the hot muffins, glared at her. If looks 
 had the power to kill, Caroline would have 
 fallen at her feet. Maumy was furious. Her 
 "fam'bly's" poverty had been exposed and to 
 rich "Yankees," at that! 
 
 Doctor Ravenel patted the arm flung around 
 his neck : 
 
 " 'A wise old owl sat on an oak,' " he quoted. 
 
 "I know, Major. 'The more he saw the less 
 he spoke.' " 
 
 "Exactly, honey." And then, "Want to go 
 with me to make a call? I am going on the 
 w r est side." 
 
 The west side meant the Middleton family. 
 
 "May I? I would love it if Kathleen does- 
 n't mind." 
 
 Kathleen shook her blond head. "I had to 
 go, anyway," she said obligingly. 
 
 Eunice Middleton was convalescing slowly, 
 but she was able to sit up for a few hours each 
 day. Her mother had her before the little tin 
 stove, which was warm and pleasant to-day. 
 
 Caroline had visited her once before, while 
 she was still in bed. To-day she looked like a
 
 NEW FRIENDS 117 
 
 frail flower wabbling on its stem, Caroline 
 thought, noting the drooping head. 
 
 "You were so kind to give me this robe," she 
 said weakly. "So very kind and the ring. I 
 just love it. I am never going to take it off my 
 finger as long as I live." 
 
 Caroline swallowed hard, but she managed 
 to smile. 
 
 "I think it's pretty," she said; "it was given 
 to me on my birthday. I I love it, too." 
 
 "Perhaps the little girl only meant to lend 
 it to you, dear," the mother suggested. 
 
 Eunice looked up quickly, and her blue eyes 
 clouded. 
 
 "Did you?" she asked. 
 
 Doctor Ravenel was watching his daughter's 
 face closely. 
 
 "I I do you love It so awfully much?" she 
 stammered. 
 
 "It's the only pretty I ever had in my life," the 
 child answered, and her lip quivered. 
 
 "Then keep it," Caroline said bravely, her 
 eyes sweeping the barren tent. "I am glad you 
 have it and the robe, too." 
 
 That night, before Caroline slept, she had 
 two duties to perform. The first was an apology 
 to her sister. 
 
 Mayre and Alison were preparing for bed, 
 laughing and talking as they brushed and
 
 118 THEN CAME CAROLINE 
 
 combed their long, thick hair. The room with 
 its pink shaded light was softly alluring. Caro- 
 line dropped down in a chair and listened for a 
 moment to Alison's patter. It was about Jimmy 
 Ludlow and consequently interesting. 
 
 At the first break in the story, she began: 
 
 "I am sorry about what I said this afternoon, 
 Alison. I didn't think " 
 
 "You never do," Mayre interrupted, but Ali- 
 son, who .was quick to wrath and quickly over 
 it, said: 
 
 "Oh, never mind. Have some candy on 
 Jimmy." She held out a large box. Caroline 
 took a handful. 
 
 "My, he must like you !" she said, looking at 
 Alison's flushing face. 
 
 "I I rather think so too, honey," Alison ad- 
 mitted. "Kun along now. I am going to put 
 out the light." 
 
 Her mother, as usual, was sitting before a 
 grate fire with a book in her hand. Caroline 
 sat on the side of her chair and flung an arm 
 around her. 
 
 "Mother," she said softly. "Are you going 
 to care I gave my pearl ring to that little sick 
 girl on the west side she was so ill so ter- 
 ribly ill that first time Major and I went to see 
 her. And the tent was so cold Oh, it made me 
 sick." She shivered at the memory. "I thought
 
 THEN CAME CAROLINE 119 
 
 I was only lending it at first, but to-day to-day 
 she had it on she loved it so she called it a 
 'pretty' said it was the first one she had ever 
 had and I couldn't take it away from her, 
 Mother. I am sure you couldn't have, either. 
 Please don't scold me." 
 
 Instead of scolding, Mrs. Ravenel drew the 
 child into her arms. 
 
 "Darling," she murmured, "it was a beautiful 
 thing to do. Father has told me how desperately 
 poor they are. If the ring gives her any happi- 
 ness, she must have it, of course. There will be 
 more for you some day; only I trust that you 
 would not give away heirlooms." 
 
 "When Great-aunt passes on " 
 
 Mrs. Ravenel smiled. 
 
 "Or some of yours. Of course, I don't want 
 you to die mercy no but I'd like the cluster 
 diamond and the one enameled in black it 
 makes your hand look so white and " 
 
 The clock in the hall below was striking ten. 
 Mrs. Ravenel kissed Caroline and smiled as she 
 gave her a gentle push. 
 
 "It is an hour past your bedtime," she ad- 
 monished. "Good night." 
 
 "Good night. Oh, but you are dear, Mother. 
 And so pretty. Sweet dreams." 
 
 It was the old, loving adoration that prevailed 
 in the household.
 
 CHAPTER X 
 
 ALISON ENTERTAINS 
 
 BY a strange coincidence Caroline's birth- 
 day and Alison's fell on the same day, 
 April fourteenth. Always, since they 
 were small children, they had celebrated the 
 day together. Maumy Rachel never failed 
 to provide two cakes bright with candles, one 
 of which was put before Alison at table, the 
 other in front of her small sister. 
 
 But the spring in which Alison reached six- 
 teen and Caroline eleven, there was an upheaval 
 in regard to the old regime. 
 
 "It is perfectly ridiculous for us to celebrate 
 together any longer," Alison rebelled. "Imagine 
 Caroline at my party with high-school girls and 
 boys! Who would dance with her?" 
 
 "You're afraid they all would," Caroline re- 
 torted. "Jimmy Ludlow asked me to save two 
 for him, and I could have lots with Smedley 
 Matthews if I wanted them." 
 
 "Well, you aren't coming. I won't have the 
 party if you do, that's all. You can have some
 
 ALISON ENTERTAINS 121 
 
 of your own friends in, the day before. I am 
 perfectly willing to help entertain them " 
 
 "Thank you, you needn't bother. I won't 
 have a party on a day that doesn't belong to 
 me. The fourteenth of April is as much 
 mine as it is yours. And I am coming to the 
 party! I like to dance with nice boys as well 
 as you do." 
 
 The days sped on. The first week of April 
 had passed when Fate took a hand in the plans. 
 
 Down in front of the old stone high school a 
 flagpole was being raised. Children from the 
 junior grades hovered around it at recess and 
 after school. When it was finished and equip- 
 ped, there began an epidemic of climbing. 
 Nimble-footed urchins crawled up and slid down 
 daily, and once or twice, when the boys had 
 gone home, girls tried the feat. 
 
 Kathleen Briggs, coming out of the building 
 on a chilly April morning, sauntered by the pole 
 to watch Jack Wesley, a dare-devil bully, take 
 his usual spin to the top. 
 
 Kathleen was standing a little apart from the 
 crowd, her blue eyes lifted in admiration, when 
 suddenly she felt a pull at her long flaxen 
 braids, and the next minute Bennie Butler, the 
 incorrigible joker of her grade, grabbed her 
 precious new spring sailor and ran shouting to 
 Jack.
 
 122 THEN CAME CAROLINE 
 
 "Bet you can't take this up with you." 
 
 "Bet I can," Jack answered, slipping back to 
 reach for it. 
 
 Kathleen was furious. She had been warned 
 about wearing the hat to school, and she was 
 very susceptible to cold, which frequently re- 
 sulted in tonsilitis. 
 
 "Bennie Butler, you bring my hat back 
 to me this minute!" she called, stamping her 
 small foot determinedly. "That's a brand-new 
 hat " 
 
 "It won't be when Jack gets through with it: 
 he's going to put it on top of the pole. He'll 
 have to punch a hole through it. You won't 
 have any more hat than a rabbit when he gets 
 through with it." 
 
 Caroline, coming out of the building just then, 
 sensed the difficulty. She gave Bennie a look 
 that cut. 
 
 "My, but it must have taken a brave heart 
 to have thought of such a dark deed in so short 
 a time," she said witheringly. "Don't mind, 
 Kathleen. Just speak to Bennie's mother about 
 it. Let her pay for it. How much did you say 
 it cost? Six dollars?" 
 
 Bennie looked alarmed. Several broken win- 
 dows had already reduced his allowance. 
 
 "Leave'r halfway," he shouted to Jack, not 
 wishing to capitulate altogether, and Jack, none
 
 ALISON ENTERTAINS 123 
 
 too sure of his hold, hung it on a convenient 
 spike a third of the way up. 
 
 "Wait until they go away," Caroline said, 
 nodding toward the boys, "and I will get it for 
 you. I can climb as well as they can." She 
 measured the height with her eye. "Our old 
 apple tree at home was as high as that, and I 
 used to nearly live in it." 
 
 They loitered up the street, turning back when 
 the coast was clear. 
 
 She had made the first fifteen feet in safety, 
 when Kathleen called that the boys were com- 
 ing back. Caroline fumbled, lost her hold, then 
 down she came with a thud, her slight little 
 body landing on the dusty playground. 
 
 "Now you have done it !" Kathleen screamed 
 to the frightened boys. "You've killed her. 
 Look! She's knocked senseless!" 
 
 True, she was dazed, and there was a tingling 
 sensation in her nose that hurt. It bled and 
 ached and was altogether uncomfortable. 
 
 "You go get something to carry her home in," 
 Kathleen ordered. "She can't walk. I wouldn't 
 be surprised if she hadn't broken both her legs." 
 
 With admirable composure (and secret de- 
 light) Caroline let the crowd dump her into an 
 improvised stretcher and the procession moved 
 slowly up the avenue. 
 
 Leigh saw it coming and hastened to close her
 
 124 THEN CAME CAROLINE 
 
 mother's door. Fortunately Doctor Ravenel 
 was at home. He was some time going over the 
 little form stretched on the pine table, and his 
 face was grave. 
 
 "It is nothing worse than a broken nose," he 
 said finally, to Leigh's intense relief. 
 
 In half an hour Caroline was sitting up with 
 a bumpy looking bandage over the middle of her 
 face and a worried look in her darkening eyes. 
 She had made no complaint, asked but one ques- 
 tion: 
 
 "Will it have a hump on it, Major my nose? 
 Seems as if I couldn't stand it not on a near 
 pug. It would be awful." 
 
 Her father bent and kissed the brown fore- 
 head peeping above the bandage. "It is going 
 to be all right," he said. 
 
 She was halfway up the stairs when she called 
 back: 
 
 "Major, I most forgot. Send the bill to Mrs. 
 Butler on Willammette Street and make it big. 
 I'm going to teach Bennie a lesson. I don't 
 see why, just 'cause you're a surgeon, you 
 shouldn't have your pay for fixing me up. And 
 you might add six dollars for Kathleen's hat. 
 It's up on the pole yet, and the wind's rising." 
 
 The Major smiled as he turned into his office, 
 but he made no promises. 
 
 Up in the attic sewing room the week before
 
 ALISON ENTERTAINS 125 
 
 the party, machines buzzed and whirred all day 
 long. Miss Wille Macon, the Virginia seam- 
 stress, had been replaced by Miss Ella Younge, 
 quite as efficient, and a peach-blow organdy was 
 in the process of construction for Alison. 
 Dozens of tiny ruffles rippled around the skirt, 
 and the bodice was cut in a round neck, a great 
 concession on the part of Alison's mother, for 
 in "her day," so she said, girls never had party 
 dresses until they "came out." 
 
 "You'll be perfectly dar-ling in it," Caroline 
 said, watching a morning fitting; she had been 
 out of school for several days. 
 
 Alison's heart smote her as she turned to look 
 at the little form sitting cross-legged in a wide 
 easy chair. Nothing had been said about Caro- 
 line's attending the party since the accident: 
 the ugly patch still worn across her somber 
 little face precluded the possibility ; still, it was 
 rather mean to deny her the fun of looking on, 
 when she was so uncomfortable and shut in. 
 
 "Major says my patch will be so much smaller 
 that it won't look bad for a party at all," she 
 said, letting her eyes follow the billowy ruffles. 
 "Will my white dress be done, Miss Younge?" 
 
 "I hope so, dear." 
 
 "I want ruffles, too, just like Alison's. I 
 think I will have it made the same way." 
 
 Alison sighed impatiently.
 
 126 THEN CAME CAROLINE 
 
 "It would not be at all becoming to you, Caro- 
 line, you are too small; besides, I told you the 
 other day that you were not coming to the 
 party." 
 
 Alison turned in time to catch one of Caro- 
 line's "faces." 
 
 "There," she said, "that proves what a baby 
 you are. Girls who are old enough to go to 
 dances don't make faces." 
 
 "I wasn't, I was just " she was going to 
 say, "turning up my nose" but remembering that 
 was impossible, left the sentence suspended. 
 
 The day of the party arrived. Leigh rose 
 early to help Judy put the house in order. 
 Maumy Kachel, busy and important with pound 
 cake and hermits, shuffled through the kitchen 
 and pantries, scolding and carefully locking 
 doors. 
 
 "I reckon w'all '11 show them Yankees how 
 to serve 'freshments," she said, with a nod of 
 her kinky head. "They'll all be wantin' my 
 raspberry shrub and cucumber punch." 
 
 "Make everything just as nice as you can, 
 Maumy dear," Alison coaxed, thrusting an 
 anxious head into the fragrant kitchen. "We're 
 not going to have much, you know, so it must 
 all be good." 
 
 Mayre was also busy dusting the rooms, giv- 
 ing an extra brush to Aunt Caroline's smiling
 
 ALISON ENTERTAINS 127 
 
 face and Grandfather Kirtley's, seeing that the 
 furniture was moved for dancing. 
 
 Caroline watched the preparations with a 
 sinking heart. There had been an ultimatum 
 in regard to the party; the Major had sided with 
 Alison. The Major, who was always on her 
 side! The disappointment was too bitter even 
 to think about. 
 
 As Alison had said, everything was to be ex- 
 tremely simple, not alone because good taste de- 
 manded it, but because of the limitations of the 
 Ravenel purse. 
 
 Doctor Ravenel's practise was increasing, but 
 money was always scarce; those who paid for 
 his services were slow, and many offered pro- 
 visions in return for his skill in setting bones 
 and healing chicken pox and fevers. 
 
 At the early five o'clock dinner, Caroline's 
 cake was put before her with its array of spark- 
 ling candles, but she listlessly blew them out 
 and left the table as soon as she had cut it. 
 
 "Oh, Mother, she makes me feel so horribly 
 selfish," Alison said, between a tear and a laugh. 
 "But she would be out of place at the party 
 with young people who are almost grown and 
 that patch in the bargain !" 
 
 Mrs. Ravenel's silence did not help Alison's 
 feelings. 
 
 "She she's just spoiling everything! I can't
 
 128 THEN CAME CAROLINE 
 
 eat a bite myself! I hate seeing her so un- 
 happy." 
 
 "She'll get over it," Mayre comforted. "I 
 think you are perfectly justified." Mayre was 
 sharing the delights of the evening. 
 
 By seven o'clock there was a hasty pattering 
 of feet on the second floor. Alison ran back and 
 forth, first to Leigh's room, and then to her 
 mother's. The new frock needed a pin here, a 
 stitch there, a gentle pushing down of the 
 voluminous ruffles. 
 
 "Sure it doesn't make me look stout?" Caro- 
 line heard her say to Mayre, and Mayre's 
 answer : 
 
 "You are simply stunning, I reckon he " 
 
 - The rest was lost with the closing of Alison's 
 bedroom door. 
 
 That young lady came into Caroline's room 
 a few minutes later, with a "Want to see me, 
 honey? The dress seems to be a success!" 
 
 Caroline turned her head and directed her 
 glance to the house across the way. 
 
 Alison sent a kiss fluttering toward the win- 
 dow and closed the door softly. She was a little 
 hurt, but she had no intention of letting Caro- 
 line's disappointment spoil her evening. 
 
 The music had begun downstairs when Caro- 
 line opened her closet door and took out the 
 white dress that Miss Younge had labored to
 
 ALISON ENTERTAINS 129 
 
 finish for her birthday. She threw it over the 
 back of a chair and drew her best lingerie and 
 stockings from the wide bottom drawer. Fortu- 
 nately, Mrs. Ravenel had thought best to put 
 Hope in the guest room on the third floor for 
 the night, lest her rest should be disturbed. 
 
 It took some time to dress. The white patch 
 across her nose (decreasing daily and little more 
 than a strip of adhesive plaster now) gave 
 her some concern. It destroyed the effect she 
 wanted to produce. However, she made herself 
 as presentable as her affliction would permit 
 and wandered out in the hall to look down on 
 the festivities below. 
 
 Around the wide upper hall a white enameled 
 fence, topped with mahogany, protected a central 
 well. Over this one could look down into the 
 hall below; in fact, the view was sweeping. 
 
 Back of the rail, leading to the chambers, a 
 wide strip of hall gave the effect of a mezzanine. 
 Now and then Caroline's eyes swept it, measur- 
 ing its length and breadth. 
 
 For some minutes she watched the guests be- 
 low. Her mother was very handsome in her 
 black velvet gown (remnant of better days) 
 and Mayre sweet in a blue organdy that matched 
 her eyes. 
 
 Leigh was looking well too, in white. She 
 kept one of her mother's pretty fans waving
 
 130 THEN CAME CAROLINE 
 
 languorously. Now and then Caroline imitated 
 the graceful gesture, lifting her eyes to an 
 imaginary partner. 
 
 It was just before the third dance that she 
 spied Jimmy Ludlow standing beneath her. He 
 seemed very tall and grown-up in his evening 
 clothes, and for a moment Caroline hesitated to 
 attract his attention. 
 
 But she leaned over the rail and let loose her 
 little white handkerchief. It fell, wandering 
 and wabbling, to Jimmy's feet. He picked it 
 up, and not having seen it drop, presented it to 
 Alison. 
 
 When the next dance was over she dropped 
 another, her very best. This was carried 
 around the room until Muriel Roach (Caroline 
 never liked her afterward) gracefully accepted 
 it as her own and tucked it into her taffeta 
 gown. 
 
 The third was more successful. It fell on 
 Jimmy's head. He looked up. Caroline crooked 
 a finger. Jimmy took the stairs two at a time. 
 
 "Hello, youngster," he said amiably, "What's 
 the matter with you? Weren't you invited to the 
 party?" 
 
 Caroline shook her head and her creamy lids 
 fluttered over her hazel eyes. Jimmy suspicioned 
 tears. 
 
 "Jove, that's a shame," lie said. Then, "I'll
 
 ALISON ENTERTAINS 131 
 
 tell you what let's have a two-step around the 
 hall, here." 
 
 It was even easier than Caroline had hoped. 
 
 "Couldn't you stay for the next one?" she 
 begged, when they had finished. "It it's ter- 
 ribly lonesome up here all alone and you see 
 my nose " 
 
 Jimmy remained. 
 
 "Send somebody else up, will you?" she 
 asked, when he said he must go. "And Jimmy 
 I'd love it if you'd come again just once 
 more. The seventh maybe a waltz I 
 could pretty nearly die dancing with you. You 
 are so easy and and I'll tell you what Ali- 
 son said, if you will a T. L." 
 
 Jimmy looked hopeful, but uneasy. 
 
 "Wouldn't Smedley do?" 
 
 All of Caroline's nose that could wiggle went 
 skyward. 
 
 "Or Scotty Randolf " 
 
 "He's better " 
 
 "Maybe Ned Adams " 
 
 "I like him so does Mayre." The informa- 
 tion slipped out, she had not really meant to 
 give it. 
 
 She came closer and put her little brown hand 
 on his coat. "I tell you what to do you send 
 them all one at a time and I'll give you the 
 T. L. now. Alison says that you "
 
 132 THEN CAME CAROLINE 
 
 She hesitated and took a short, swift breath. 
 
 "She says she thinks you have the sweet- 
 est mother (the "mothah" was deliciously 
 drawled) and the loveliest dogs and and 
 you will send them, won't you?" 
 
 "Sure I'll send them in droves " 
 
 "And she thinks that you " 
 
 Caroline hesitated and Jimmy, laughing, 
 slipped a hand over her red lips. 
 
 "Let me guess," he suggested; "that would be 
 fairer." But he left without another word. 
 
 Ned Adams came first. There was a glorious 
 romp around the hall. Scotty came next: he 
 wasn't such a good dancer, but he was lots of 
 fun. Smedley also wandered up and worked 
 off a few puns on noses. And then Jimmy came 
 again, with an ice and a piece of Maumy 
 Rachel's pound cake, promising another dance, 
 but it was Maumy herself who put a stop to it. 
 
 "What y'all think you doin' up here?" she said, 
 eyeing the culprit, arms akimbo. (Jimmy had 
 made his escape.) "What y'all mean, takin' 
 away yer sister's beaux and holdin high jinks 
 all by y'self? W T hat you think Miss Leigh's 
 gwine say 'bout hit when I tell her?" 
 
 "It's my birthday, just as much as it is Ali- 
 son's. 
 
 "You done had your cake at dinner." 
 
 Caroline's great yellow eyes gleamed disgust.
 
 ALISON ENTERTAINS 133 
 
 "Cake!" she said. "Cake! What's your old 
 cake to a dance with Jimmy Ludlow, I'd like 
 to know. And Alison had better look out. He's 
 very much enamored of me. He said so. And 
 we made some engagements together to go to 
 the circus when it comes this summer and " 
 
 With a snort Maumy Rachel went back down- 
 stairs. 
 
 That night, just before she closed her tired 
 eyes, Allison said to Mayre: 
 
 "I am glad that I am five years older than 
 Caroline and w r on't be on the scene when she 
 comes along. Lots of chance I'd have. Why, 
 to-night, Jimmy Ludlow raved about her 
 thinks she's the most fascinating child he ever 
 saw. It's just as well she couldn't come to the 
 party." 
 
 And Mayre, having witnessed a part of the 
 entertainment on the second floor, kept a dis- 
 creet silence.
 
 CHAPTER XI 
 IN THE TOWER 
 
 IT was Jimmy's fault, of course, though he 
 was quite innocent of the effect he had 
 produced upon Caroline's highly imagi- 
 native mind. 
 
 Two days after the dancing party, she asked 
 a favor of her father. 
 
 "May I have the tower room for a den, Major? 
 I want to do some literary work, and I have to 
 have a place that's quiet." 
 
 "More dramas?" the doctor inquired. 
 
 "Maybe yes." 
 
 "I have no objection, so long as you let me 
 share the sunset and have a look at the Peak 
 through the telescope once in awhile." The 
 telescope, resurrected from the attic, was often 
 in demand. 
 
 "Surely. I'll have a key made for you." 
 
 "You don't want to lock the room?" 
 
 "Of course. Don't you lock your office? Peo- 
 ple would be bumping in all the time." 
 
 The doctor could scarcely consent to that. 
 
 "Could I have the desk that Mr. Lee left in
 
 IN THE TOWER 135 
 
 the attic, then the one with the roll top? I 
 could lock that." 
 
 The Major had no objection. 
 
 It took some hours to get the little room in 
 order. Along with the desk came a bookcase 
 and a worn, but comfortable chair; a couple of 
 uniformed soldiers in round, hard- wood frames, 
 ancestors that had been relegated to the room 
 under the roof. 
 
 It was very cosy when Caroline finished. "The 
 child has quite an idea of furnishing," Mrs. Kav- 
 enel said. Mayre had made several excellent sug- 
 gestions. 
 
 Every moment that Caroline could spare from 
 school and play was spent in the den. It was 
 a pleasant retreat. Across the street, which 
 curved toward the mountains, stood the Ludlow 
 dwelling, large and handsome. It twisted a bit 
 with the street, as if to court favor with the old 
 monster in the west, its shingled sides and 
 pointed gables proclaiming its autocracy. 
 
 But, handsome as it was, it could not compete 
 with the house beyond, toward the mountains; 
 the large English mansion that had been closed 
 for two years, so Kathleen said, weaving a pretty 
 romance about it. 
 
 A young nobleman had come from England 
 with his bride, bringing servants and furniture, 
 his carriages, horses and hounds, for he knew
 
 136 THEN CAME CAROLINE 
 
 that Colorado must always be his home because 
 of the frailty of his young bride. They had taken 
 a smaller house in the neighborhood while the 
 larger one was being completed, watching it grow 
 with pride and pleasure, planning the great airy 
 chambers, the wide verandas, the splendid gard- 
 ens. There had been but one year of happiness. 
 Then the wife died, and turning the house over 
 to a caretaker, the young husband returned to 
 England. 
 
 Caroline always sighed when she looked at 
 the place. Over it hung a veil of mystery. Some- 
 times she and Kathleen walked through the 
 grounds, gazing romantically at the south cham- 
 ber with its sunny, glassed-in gallery where the 
 young wife had died. 
 
 Kathleen's descriptions of her were alluring: 
 she dwelt long and tenderly on her beauty, her 
 fluffy negligees, her marvelous shawls, the retinue 
 of servants. 
 
 "And you used really to see them walking to- 
 gether," Caroline would ask with awed interest, 
 "out in the gardens there?" 
 
 "Often," Kathleen answered, "and always she 
 had her arm through his, and sometimes she 
 leaned on him a little like as if she w r as awful 
 tired." (The Briggs fortune had bought every- 
 thing but good English.) 
 
 "Was he tall and handsome?"
 
 IN THE TOWER 137 
 
 Kathleen was sorry to admit that he was not. 
 He was "just medium" but distinguished, and 
 with an accent oh, an accent that shouted 
 "London." People said they were very snobbish, 
 though once when Kathleen had returned a lost 
 puppy to him he had smiled, thanking her 
 warmly. 
 
 Now, however, "The Lodge," as it was fa- 
 miliarly known to the townsfolk, was but a mem- 
 ory, one of those bitter tragedies that so often 
 stalk through Colorado villages. 
 
 Perhaps it was not all Jimmie's fault. Per- 
 haps Kathleen's tales of the Lodge and a goodly 
 dose of light fiction, borrowed from the Briggs 
 library and secreted in the den, helped, but Caro- 
 line's wayward fancy soared. The old desk be- 
 came a receptacle for reams of letters written in 
 her round, childish hand. They were tucked in 
 every pigeonhole: some were tied in packets, with 
 lingerie ribbons in elaborate bows. 
 
 Alison, going to the den one day for a lost 
 book, found the desk open, a very unusual occur- 
 rence. A half-finished epistle partially covered 
 with a blotting pad caught her eye. Mayre would 
 never have thought of perusing a correspondence 
 not her own, but Alison was different. With 
 her, curiosity often got the better of principle. 
 She removed the blotter and looked at the head- 
 ing.
 
 138 THEN CAME CAROLINE 
 
 The first words brought a gasp of astonish- 
 ment. 
 
 "My dearest :" the letter began. "Your beauti- 
 ful violits and orchads came this morning and I 
 cannot tell you how the messengers of your heart 
 cheered my spirits and did me good. How kind 
 you are to think of me and to send orchads that 
 are so expensive specially at this time of the 
 year, and in Colorado where they don't do well. 
 I expect my dear one that I must chide you for 
 this extravegince, for we must now be saving 
 our principle for our marrage 
 
 "Every since the night that we danced to- 
 gether and you told me of your enamerement I 
 have loved you with a passion that is heavenly 
 and it gives me great contentment to know that 
 my feelings are returned. 
 
 "Am glad to know that you are thinking of 
 speaking with the Major about us soon, but it 
 causes me a good deal of excitement as he is 
 likely to think me to young to accept of an en- 
 gagement. I think you would perhaps better 
 come over some time when he is about to make a 
 call and drive Selah for him. He always gets 
 interested in the seenry and you could drive fast 
 and get it done with quickly. It would be better 
 to ask him than Mother as she would want to 
 know who your grand father was I am sure and 
 if he was fit to woo a Kirtley "
 
 IN THE TOWER 139 
 
 The letter was so delectable that Alison reached 
 for another. It was brief, beginning: 
 
 "The news that your father is coming to look 
 me over fills me with fright. Suppose dear one 
 he should not like me. Have you told him I 
 wonder about the spots in my eyes and my nose 
 a little uppish. It is always best to be honest, 
 especially with your relatives, they always find 
 out everything anyway. Has he a faveret color? 
 If he has and you would let me know I would be 
 pleased to put it on and do everything in my 
 power to win his delight. Thank you again for 
 the beautiful roses which I have pressed in our 
 Kirtley bible that no one ever looks at except 
 to see how old we are. There they are safe from 
 mortal eyes as Mother hates to see it written 
 down that I was born in Vermont which is the 
 same as the North. Virginia is really my home, 
 Warrensburg which my grandfather and General 
 Warren started some years ago. 
 
 "Your adoring fiancie 
 
 "Caroline Kavenel 
 "P. S. Do you speak French?" 
 
 The fourth letter was so absorbing that Alison 
 found it difficult to hide when she heard foot- 
 steps on the stair. She turned guiltily. 
 
 Caroline took in the situation at a glance. A 
 dark flame stained her face, in her eyes a storm 
 gathered.
 
 140 THEN CAME CAROLINE 
 
 Alison's giggle turned to confusion. 
 
 "It was so funny, honey ; I saw the beginning 
 and " 
 
 "Read it all! My private correspondence. 
 That's your idea of honor!" 
 
 She snatched the letter from its hiding place 
 and tore it into shreds. Then, with the air of a 
 tragedy queen, pointed a slim forefinger toward 
 the door. 
 
 "Leave my room this minute. This minute! 
 I won't have you here. You've done a horrid, 
 unladylike, sneaky thing. And I I hate you 
 for it!" 
 
 "Oh, darling " 
 
 "You needn't darling me. It won't go. And 
 if you mention this to anybody " 
 
 "I hadn't thought of mentioning it 
 
 "I don't know what you'd do. But let me 
 catch you. I'll get even." The specks in the 
 flashing eyes had spread; they were black and 
 threatening. "I promised a friend of yours a 
 trade last, and I'll make it a dandy." 
 "Just you dare. Let me catch you !" 
 "Oh, no. I won't. I'm not so silly as to let 
 people catch me. Trouble with you is you are 
 too pretty to be smart. Maumy Rachel says the 
 good Lord always knows when He's done enough 
 for people looks and brains are natural ene- 
 mies."
 
 IN THE TOWER 141 
 
 "It is time you were rising above Maumy 
 Rachel's silly clatter." 
 
 "Silly ! She's got more sense in a minute than 
 you have in your life. She wouldn't read other 
 people's letters." 
 
 The thought of poor old Maumy, who didn't 
 know A from B, made Alison smile. 
 
 "Oh, I know well enough she can't read 
 but but " 
 
 The sentence stopped in a sob ; Caroline flung 
 herself down on the window seat and burst into 
 tears. 
 
 Alison stooped, trying to caress the thick ropes 
 of hair. She was pushed off rudely. 
 
 "Go on out of my room and never come in it 
 again !" 
 
 Alison went. 
 
 The storm spent itself after a while, and Caro- 
 line sat up. For a time she was lost in thought. 
 She dreaded going downstairs to tea, for of 
 course Alison would tell the family, and they 
 would all laugh laugh ! 
 
 The thought cut into her heart like a thrust. 
 She loved a joke, even on herself, but ridicule, 
 that was beyond endurance. 
 
 She went into the guest room and bathed her 
 swollen eyes. Then she crept down the back 
 stairs and out into the yard. 
 
 Kathleen beckoned her over, but she was in
 
 142 THEN CAME CAROLINE 
 
 no mood to visit, so she strolled through the back 
 gate and on toward the hills. 
 
 In May, Colorado is in her gentlest mood. The 
 wind becomes a playful zephyr; the air is warm 
 and invigorating. Verandas filled with invalids, 
 drinking in the sunshine; the highway is a vast 
 procession of carriages, flying motors, and horse- 
 back enthusiasts. 
 
 Caroline wandered up the street, hatless, coat- 
 less, letting the breeze fan her hot temples and 
 aching head. She sniffed the air as she had seen 
 her father do, filling her lungs with deep 
 draughts. 
 
 Over the fields of grass and stubble the sun- 
 shine gleamed, warming the peeping anemones, 
 the blue bells and larkspur. Now and then Caro- 
 line stopped to pick a handful, absently, as if 
 her thoughts were miles away. 
 
 She took the road that led to the mesa above 
 the village, a broad open space frequented by 
 the rich. She sat down in a patch of struggling 
 grass to watch the endless procession of car- 
 riages, brilliant with red and green or orange 
 parasols, held above handsome women and care- 
 free men. 
 
 My, but it must be nice to be rich and loll back 
 like that, she thought, as an unusually handsome 
 Victoria passed, Coloradoans had not yet given 
 up their spanking bays and tandems for motors.
 
 IN THE TOWER 143 
 
 But after a while she turned her eyes from the 
 road and let them wander to the mountains 
 chiseled against the sky. To-day they were warm 
 and friendly : the Peak had slipped back his hood, 
 lost his brooding look; there was a cordial at- 
 mosphere about him. 
 
 "Maumy would like him to-day," Caroline 
 thought, squinting at his bulging head and wide- 
 flung arms, "if she would only look, but she's so 
 stubborn." 
 
 She was so interested in the wavering outline, 
 her busy mind fancying all sorts of romances 
 about the towering pines, the peaks, the animals 
 that crossed those snow-filled chasms that she 
 was startled when a voice called, "Hello, Caro- 
 line, what are you doing way out here all by 
 your lonesome?" 
 
 Jimmy Ludlow grinned down on her from his 
 spirited horse. 
 
 "Just looking " 
 
 "The old man's quite human to-day, isn't he? 
 Seems to be looking, too." He waved his riding 
 crop toward the mountains. 
 
 "I was just thinking that," Caroline said, with 
 a flashing smile. "I wondered what he thought 
 about everything down here " 
 
 Jimmy dismounted, and stretching his long 
 limbs beside her, let Minto bite at the sweet 
 grass.
 
 144 THEN CAME CAROLINE 
 
 Caroline eyed him from the tail of her hazel 
 eyes. 
 
 "You look nice," she said, when she had made 
 a more complete survey. "I like you in riding 
 
 clothes. They make you look " she couldn't 
 
 think of a word, but in a moment added "dis- 
 tinguished." 
 
 Jimmy doffed his hat, and running his hand 
 through his light, pompadoured hair, smiled. 
 
 Caroline took another look, slyly. Her eyes 
 were rewarded. Jimmy in his riding togs was 
 all that she thought and more. From his 
 father he had taken height, but his mother had 
 given him his clear gray eyes, his fine nose, his 
 pleasant smile and white, even teeth. 
 
 Colorado had done the rest: put the snap in 
 his strong, athletic body, whipped his face to a 
 healthy tan. 
 
 "Distinguished," he repeated, with his quick, 
 short laugh. "You are looking rather nice your- 
 self to-day, Caroline." 
 
 "No, I am not." 
 
 "No?" 
 
 "I look horrid. I don't you see my eyes?" 
 
 "I thought it was your nose " 
 
 "Oh, that's well. I mean I I've been crying. 
 I got mad " 
 
 "No!" 
 
 "Yes, I did."
 
 IN THE TOWER 145 
 
 "Terrible!" 
 
 "Do you think it's honorable to go into peo- 
 ple's things and look them over correspond- 
 ence that is private?" 
 
 Jimmy scratched his head and puckered his 
 mouth, but his answer was guarded. 
 
 "I would have to know the particulars," he 
 said. "Want me to be your policeman?" 
 
 Caroline's red lips parted in a smile, but they 
 tightened again. A Kirtley adage popped into 
 her mind. 
 
 "Thank you, but but our family always keeps 
 a veil between itself and the world." 
 
 Jimmy's laugh started, but the serious face 
 beside him checked it. 
 
 "Feeling pretty low, eh?" 
 
 "Quite." 
 
 He thought for a minute. 
 
 "Suppose I go home and get Pinto; it will only 
 take a few minutes, and we'll have a trot over the 
 hill." 
 
 "Could you? I haven't been on a horse since 
 I left home." 
 
 Jimmy was back in a few minutes. 
 
 "I stopped at the house," he said, "and brought 
 your sweater." 
 
 He held it open, a tawny, brownish thing that 
 softened her eyes to topaz. Mayre always in- 
 sisted upon Caroline's wearing brown or yellow.
 
 146 THEN CAME CAROLINE 
 
 Jimmy made a cup of his hands and Caroline 
 jumped from them to the horse's back. 
 
 "Fine!" he complimented. "You did that like 
 a real circus lady." 
 
 "Oh, I often rode Calico standing up and 
 without a saddle. I once thought of joining a 
 circus, but Major wasn't very well, and Mother 
 thought it would disgrace the Kirtleys " 
 
 "So you chucked it. Agreeable of you, Caro- 
 line." 
 
 He turned an admiring glance at the little 
 form in the saddle. He liked the way she sat, 
 as if she were a part of Pinto. When he trotted, 
 she rose in the saddle with an ease that surprised 
 him. 
 
 He watched her face, alight with pleasure and 
 excitement. The soft wind blew the hair back 
 from her full forehead, her head inclined for- 
 ward; a beautiful head, swaying above the 
 slender sun-tanned neck. 
 
 "I would like to see that hair wreathed on top," 
 Jimmy thought, following the graceful lines. 
 She's going to be some looker when she grows up. 
 
 He let Caroline do the talking, drawing her 
 out now and then with a sly bait (not for nothing 
 was he some day going to be a lawyer), enjoying 
 her comments, her rich Southern accent. 
 
 Before they had gone three miles he had been 
 introduced to the old mansion in the South, to
 
 IN THE TOWER 147 
 
 Kufus and his wife Charity Lou, Willie Boland, 
 the Jilsens and McGees ; he knew Aunt Caroline, 
 too, and how her fortune was to be distributed, 
 of Mayre's talent for art, which was to make 
 her famous as a landscape gardener. 
 
 Of Alison there was never a word. But Caro- 
 line was sorely tempted; once the information 
 that Alison was not quite reliable almost escaped 
 her, but the Kirtley "veil that shut out the world" 
 dropped in time. Her lips became a grim line. 
 
 "I reckon I've been doing most all the talking," 
 she admitted, when they turned homeward. She 
 was silent for a moment, wondering if she had 
 said more than she should. Maumy Rachel was 
 always cautioning her about "fam'bly secrets." 
 
 "I have been very much entertained," Jimmy 
 declared. Jimmy was eighteen and easily 
 amused. 
 
 "Tell me something about yourself." 
 
 "There is not much to tell, Caroline. My 
 mother has given up her plan of making me 
 President of the United States and has com- 
 promised on Princeton ; she still has a sneaking 
 hope " 
 
 "You are going to college?" 
 
 "In the fall." 
 
 "How wonderful. Will you be gone four 
 years?" 
 
 "If they keep me vacations excepted."
 
 148 THEN CAME CAROLINE 
 
 "You will come home for those?" 
 
 "You couldn't chain me East in the summer 
 time." 
 
 "I know. I love it too." Her hand swept the 
 mountains. "Maumy says they shut you in 
 those old rocks but I always feel they are a 
 gateway to something nicer. Have you been 
 on the other side?" 
 
 "Yes." 
 
 "What's over there?" 
 
 "More mountains." 
 
 "Lots more?" 
 
 "Heaps!" 
 
 She slid from Pinto's back when they reached 
 home and threw the reins to Jimmy. 
 
 "Thank you for a wonderful time," she said, 
 "and some day when you are low yourself, 
 come over " 
 
 "Thanks a lot." 
 
 She stood watching him as he galloped down 
 the block. When he reached his own corner, he 
 turned and waved. 
 
 Caroline moved toward the house in a trance.
 
 CHAPTER XII 
 GASOLINE ATTENDS A BALL 
 
 THE first two years in Colorado brought 
 few changes. The Ravenel family had 
 comfortably established themselves in 
 the community and made several close friends. 
 Caroline's friendships were more or less fleeting, 
 owing to her family's very decided opinions, al- 
 though she was inclined, once she had given her 
 affection, to stand by it. 
 
 This was true in regard to Kathleen. A rather 
 disagreeable affair, or it might have been dis- 
 agreeable had not Mrs. Ravenel's dignity pre- 
 vented, arose between the tw r o families, but Caro- 
 line declined to give it a moment's consideration. 
 
 Mrs. Briggs, a pompous, uncultivated woman, 
 envying the smoothness with which the house 
 next door to her own was operated, offered Judy 
 two dollars a week more than Mrs. Eavenel was 
 paying for her services. Judy asked for an ad- 
 vance in her wages. It was not forthcoming, so 
 she packed her things in high dudgeon and took 
 up her abode next door. 
 
 "It's these here Colorado darkies that's makin*
 
 150 THEN CAME CAROLINE 
 
 her so biggity," Maum Kachel declared. "Judy'll 
 be beggin' Miss Em'bly to take her back in a 
 month ; she cain't live with them no-count white 
 trash not after her bringin' up !" 
 
 But for once Maumy was a poor prophet. Judy 
 remained, growing slacker and more careless 
 every day. Xow and then she came over for a 
 half-hour's visit with Maum Kachel, only to be 
 received with chilling politeness. 
 
 One evening, having dined at the Briggs house 
 with Evelyn, Kathleen's elder sister, Alison 
 brought home an amusing story. 
 
 Mrs. Briggs, an amateur at entertaining, was 
 giving a dinner for her budding daughter, and 
 wishing to impress the guests with her service, 
 suggested to Judy that she "fix up" for the 
 occasion. 
 
 Judy, taking advantage of her opportunity, 
 appeared in full evening dress, her bare black 
 shoulders billowing above a plumed red satin 
 bodice. 
 
 "I gave her one look, Mother," Alison said, 
 "and the next time she came in she had thrown 
 a light shawl over her shoulders, tying it around 
 her waist securely." 
 
 Judy had not been replaced in the household 
 for several reasons, and her work was divided 
 among the family. It became Alison's duty to 
 take care of the upstairs bedrooms; Mayre as-
 
 CAROLINE AT THE BALL 151 
 
 sisted, while Caroline helped Maumy .in the 
 kitchen, ran errands, dusted the drawing-room 
 and sometimes relieved Leigh in the office. 
 
 Leigh, now almost twenty, and a great favorite 
 with Mrs. RaveneFs friends, was invited out 
 often, but she seldom found time to accept in- 
 vitations : the supervision of the household, run- 
 ning on a restricted allowance, the mending, the 
 hundred and one things that claim the attention 
 of a home-maker, devolved upon her. Mrs. Kav- 
 enel, as the years went on, became less and less 
 a help, except for counsel, which was always 
 given wisely. 
 
 Sometimes, as Alison would scurry through 
 the hall, late for a game or the dansant, she 
 would whisper with a good-bye kiss, "I wish you 
 were going, Leigh dear ; it's such fun !" and Leigh 
 would detain her for a moment, smoothing out 
 her blouse or putting an invisible pin in the 
 struggling curls. Sometimes her blue eyes were 
 wistful; always they were proud. 
 
 But she had her diversions ; afternoons on the 
 sunny veranda with Blair Newland, who brought 
 the latest fiction and poetry, the newest bi- 
 ography to read aloud and discuss; drives with 
 her father, sometimes out in the country when 
 the wind was fresh and invigorating, the moun- 
 tains blue and rugged. 
 
 Friends, dropping in for a cup of tea, served
 
 152 THEN CAME CAROLINE 
 
 with Maumy's muffins or hot corn bread, little 
 guessed at the economies that were practised in 
 the household. The simple elegance went on. 
 Leigh's watchful eyes and clever fingers barred 
 suspicion. It was she who made over Alison's 
 dresses for Mayre, Caroline's for little Hope, she 
 who suggested that certain things be dropped 
 from the always lavish table; that desserts be 
 confined to Wednesdays and Sundays, for greater 
 enjoyment. 
 
 The younger children had no idea of how 
 scarce money was in the household. Alison knew, 
 and Mayre wondered, but questions were never 
 asked. Sometimes Alison's selfishness would 
 show itself. "I simply must have a new party 
 dress," she would declare, and Leigh would sit 
 up a little later planning, get up a little earlier 
 in the morning to sew. "Alison was so pretty. 
 She did credit to her clothes. Youth was so fleet- 
 ing." So she argued. 
 
 Doctor Ravenel gained slowly but steadily. 
 There were times when overwork put him to bed 
 for an afternoon, days when his footsteps lagged. 
 Then Leigh took the helm and kept back the line 
 of lame, halt and blind that came to his door for 
 relief. 
 
 "Kathleen says that Major's practice isn't as 
 fashionable (Kathleen had really said 'swell') 
 as Doctor Arlington's down the street," Caroline
 
 CAROLINE AT THE BALL 153 
 
 once said to Leigh. "Doctor Arlington doesn't 
 take poor people." 
 
 Leigh's pride flamed for an instant. She 
 stooped and kissed Caroline's flushed face. 
 
 "Doctor Arlington isn't to be spoken of in the 
 same breath, darling. Doctor Arlington is is 
 merely a doctor. Father is a humanitarian." 
 The distinction was well made. Doctor Ravenel's 
 skill, plus sympathy and experience, put him out- 
 side the role of ordinary physician. 
 
 Sometimes Caroline took a turn at keeping 
 office. She had a welcome smile for each forlorn, 
 weary individual who passed the portal, a keen 
 interest. And while she was observing, wonder- 
 ing, commenting, she was growing in sympathy 
 and understanding, building the ramparts of 
 character. 
 
 At thirteen she had changed but little, except 
 to shoot up like a young sapling and to take on 
 that self-assertive manner that marks adolesence. 
 
 "Caroline thinks she knows it all," Mayre com- 
 mented one day to Leigh. 
 
 "So did you at thirteen, dear," Leigh answered 
 patiently. 
 
 "But you can't tell her anything " 
 
 "You can't drive; you must coax her." 
 
 "She wears her hair so outrageously with 
 that awful band across her forehead and those 
 frowzy puffs "
 
 154 THEN CAME CAROLINE 
 
 "That's her present idea of style. She's ex- 
 perimenting, expressing herself. Didn't you?" 
 
 "I believe, not wishing to be conceited, that I 
 always had an idea of what was in taste. It 
 gives me the fidgets to see Caroline's hair and 
 her clothes the way she wears them," Havre 
 sighed despairingly. 
 
 "Caroline is like a clumsy caterpillar prepar- 
 ing to stretch butterfly wings. Give her time," 
 Leigh begged. "Let her put some of her queer 
 notions into practice; 'she will light after while,' 
 as Maum Rachel says." 
 
 A few days after this conversation Caroline 
 gave the entire family a decided shock. 
 
 "I see by the paper that the bakers are going 
 to give a dance this evening," she said to Alison 
 who was deep in a novel. 
 
 "A dance the bakers? What of it?" 
 
 "I thought maybe I would go; it's public," 
 Caroline answered. 
 
 Alison's well-bred laugh for once escaped the 
 confines of the room. 
 
 "What's the joke?" 
 
 "A bakers' dance ! Caroline !" 
 
 The novel proved too entertaining for remon- 
 strance. Alison said no more. 
 
 That evening (it was September) when the 
 family gathered around the fire, one face was 
 missing. "Where is Caroline?" her mother asked.
 
 CAROLINE AT THE BALL 155 
 
 "I saw her putting on her best dress and hat 
 as if she were going somewhere," Hope said. 
 
 Leigh rose from her chair ; Mrs. Ravenel looked 
 startled. 
 
 "Surely she would not go out at night without 
 telling us," Mayre ventured. 
 
 Alison paid little attention. Suddenly she too 
 rose from her chair. 
 
 "Leigh," she said, catching hold of her sister's 
 arm in fright. "You don't suppose oh, it 
 couldn't be possible " 
 
 "What?" gasped the family in chorus. 
 
 "That she would go to that that public 
 dance the bakers are giving." 
 
 "My dear child, explain what you mean." Mrs. 
 Ravenel cried, her face blanching. 
 
 "This morning, when she was reading the 
 paper, she told me that they were giving a dance 
 the bakers and that she believed she would 
 go. Of course I thought she was joking." 
 
 "She put on her dancing pumps," Hope sup- 
 plemented. 
 
 "Where was this dance to be given?" Doctor 
 Ravenel asked a little anxiously. 
 
 "She didn't say." 
 
 "At the Coliseum hall. I read the notice," 
 Hope contributed. 
 
 Leigh started for the door. Her father over- 
 took her.
 
 156 THEN CAME CAROLINE 
 
 "I shall go this time," he said firmly. 
 
 He saw Caroline long before she saw him. 
 She was standing back from the crowd, looking 
 on with eyes a little frightened. Now and then 
 a rude couple jostled her, and she shrank back 
 against the wall to let them pass. Once a young 
 man approached her, but she shook her head at 
 his invitation. Another came, a merry-faced lad 
 with a clean countenance. She whirled off with 
 him. 
 
 Others came. She picked and chose. Her 
 father, concealed by the crowd, watched in 
 silence. Finally he made his way to where she 
 was resting. 
 
 The light went out of her eyes when she recog- 
 nized him, but his smile was reassuring 
 
 "Come, Caroline," he said, and she followed 
 meekly. 
 
 Outside in the starlight, he questioned her. 
 Years after, she remembered that leisurely walk 
 up the wide, sandy avenue, her hand in his 
 the gentle admonition the patience with which 
 he explained the startling truths* he laid bare. 
 
 "But you didn't care just because because 
 they were common people?" she asked wist- 
 fully, every atom of her democratic nature rous- 
 ing to the word. 
 
 She never forgot his answer. 
 
 "No one is common until he has proved himself
 
 CAROLINE AT THE BALL 157 
 
 BO. You will find common people in stations 
 above you, as well as below." 
 
 After that night he seldom worried about her 
 freakish fancies. "Her ideals are her armor," 
 he said to her mother. "Yes, even at thirteen. 
 I watched her choose." 
 
 And Mrs. Ravenel murmured. . "Of course, 
 with her Kirtley blood and Ravenel inheritance, 
 one would expect that. Still, one can scarcely 
 be too cautious." 
 
 Another event took place during that Septem- 
 ber, changing the home life considerably. 
 
 A few blocks away lived the rector of the 
 church the Ravenel family attended. Barbara, 
 his only daughter, had become Alison's best 
 friend. They had graduated together at the old 
 high-school in June and spent a great deal of 
 time in social activities 
 
 Alison came home one afternoon, looking very 
 forlorn. 
 
 "The most wonderful thing has happened to 
 Barbara," she remarked to the family. "That 
 wealthy Mr. Donovan who sits just in front of 
 us in church is going to send her abroad to study 
 music. ( Barbara was very talented, playing the 
 piano skilfully.) I have just come from there 
 and they are all so excited. Fancy! I wish I 
 had a talent and knew a Mr. Donovan. All the 
 girls are going away for a year, at least, Mary
 
 158 THEN CAME CAROLINE 
 
 Stuart to New York and Edith Worthington to 
 Boston. Haven't you any friends who would 
 adopt me, Mother?" 
 
 Mrs. Ravenel thought a moment. The news 
 had touched a vulnerable spot, her pride. She 
 remembered her own girlhood at a finishing 
 school: Miss Sallie Briarley's at Eichmond. 
 Those seminary days were a cherished memory. 
 
 "Your father's cousin, Eliza Mott (Eliza had 
 been one of the Kavenels in Richmond) has 
 begged me to let her have one of my girls ever 
 since she lost dear Beverly two years ago." Bev- 
 erly was an only son, and his empty place in the 
 household was still an aching void. 
 
 "Oh, Mother !" Alison clapped her hands with 
 delight. "Write to her please. This very night. 
 It is a wonderful opportunity." 
 
 "I will talk it over with your father, darling." 
 
 Ten days later the following letter stirred the 
 Eavenel family to activity : 
 
 "The news that you are willing to lend us your 
 precious child for the winter fills us with joy. 
 We shall take excellent care of her and do all we 
 can for her happiness and welfare. Suggest that 
 you get her off as soon as possible. Briarley 
 Seminary opens the fifteenth. Fearing that at 
 the last moment you may, dear cousin Emily, 
 change your mind, we are sending you her tickets, 
 Pullman, etc."
 
 CAROLINE AT THE BALL 159 
 
 "Bless the Lord for rich relatives!" Alison 
 cried, dancing around the room in glee. "As 
 Maumy says : 'If y' ain't got a kerriage yourself, 
 hit's mighty fine to have kerriage friends !' " 
 
 "We have a carriage," Caroline defended, her 
 pride flaming. 
 
 The following week was one never to be for- 
 gotten in the household. Leigh and her mother 
 schemed and maneuvered about clothes, for Ali- 
 son could not go South without suitable and be- 
 coming frocks. 
 
 Attic trunks and boxes were rifled, old ma- 
 terials ripped and sponged. 
 
 "It is almost as good as getting ready for a 
 wedding," Mayre thought, designing the pretty 
 gowns. She was quite as interested as if she 
 herself were to have the wonderful trip. 
 
 "It will be your turn next," Alison reminded, 
 kissing her as she sat with her pencils and 
 sketches, "only of course you will go to London 
 or Paris." 
 
 "On what, please? It takes money to travel." 
 
 "Perhaps Great-aunt will have mounted the 
 golden stairs by " 
 
 "Alison!" 
 
 "I beg your pardon, Mother. I was only jok- 
 ing, of course." 
 
 "Great-aunt may have already mounted " 
 
 "Caroline!"
 
 160 THEN CAME CAROLINE 
 
 "Yes, Mother." 
 
 "Do not be unseemly, my child. It is a viola- 
 tion of taste to joke about the demise of one's 
 friends." 
 
 "But she's only a relation, and we don't even 
 know her, she's just a " 
 
 "Myth, honey," Alison finished for her. 
 
 Up in the attic sewing room, machines burred 
 and whizzed again ; rich old silks were combined 
 with soft cashmeres and grenadines, voile toned 
 with gorgeous plaids. From a quaint gray ben- 
 galine a stunning evening frock was evolved; 
 touched with a collar of real lace, it looked fit 
 for a princess, Caroline declared. 
 
 Every one was interested, every one happy. 
 Sometimes Doctor Ravenel climbed the attic 
 stairs and paused for a moment to look at the 
 pretty things heaped on the sewing table, and 
 Maumy Rachel left her dishes to see how the 
 gow r ns were progressing. 
 
 "Why don't y'all trim th's y'r coat with some 
 'oyster' plumes," she said, eyeing the ostrich 
 feathers that Mayre had pulled from a chest. 
 "They's wearin' 'em a heap. I saw a cullod 
 woman at the Baptis' church last Sunday plum 
 done up in 'em. Beats all how the folks out here 
 gets the cash to dress." 
 
 She brought up three linen handkerchiefs, her 
 own Christmas gifts.
 
 CAROLINE AT THE BALL 161 
 
 "Them's real linen," she said, wetting her 
 finger and applying it to one. She held it to the 
 light and peered through it. "Y'all can tell by 
 testin' it. You take 'em, Miss Alison. They'll 
 be nice with yer silk dresses for parties." 
 
 "Oh, Maumy dear, I can't take your pretty 
 things!" 
 
 "Go long, now, you insults me ef you don't. 
 I ain't got nothin' else to give." 
 
 Alison reluctantly laid them away in the 
 scented case that Leigh had lost sleep to em- 
 broider. 
 
 The dresses were finished at last and packed 
 in the big leather trunk in which Emily Kavenel 
 had carried her clothes away to school : a pretty 
 silk for afternoon wear, a blue and brown plaid 
 to alternate; several blouses, embellished with 
 Leigh's handwork; a neat evening coat with 
 "oyster" plumes; and the gray bengaline 
 
 Evelyn Briggs would have thought the things 
 quite inadequate for Miss Mallcott's fashionable 
 school on the Hudson, where she was going, and 
 Edith Worthington had twice the number, but 
 Alison was quite content. She helped Leigh 
 stuff the sleeves with white tissue paper and 
 folded the skirts with care. 
 
 "You must let us know just when you wear 
 each one," Mayre said, "and if Cousin Eliza likes 
 them. Of course, her things will be much more
 
 162 THEN CAME CAROLINE 
 
 elegant, but elegant things belong to middle age, 
 not youth. I should keep everything simple and 
 refined if I had a million." 
 
 Alison's promises were legion. 
 
 Came the day of departure. Leigh rose early, 
 wearing her gayest smile, for she knew that her 
 mother was dreading the first break in the family 
 circle. Mayre moved about in a dream, picking 
 up things likely to be forgotten. Caroline was 
 too excited to finish her breakfast, and Hope 
 clung to Alison's hand all morning. 
 
 The train left at noon. At eleven, Jimmy Lud- 
 low appeared with a box of candy and a bunch 
 of pink roses which Alison blushingly accepted. 
 
 "Mother sent Perkins over with the car," he 
 said, "thought perhaps you would all like to go 
 to the station." 
 
 "How perfectly dear of her," Caroline re- 
 marked, running to the window to look at the 
 handsome motor. "Would it hold us all?" 
 
 "Seven, and then some. I thought maybe 
 Alison and I could run down in the dogcart." 
 
 "So you can say good-bye, I suppose," Caroline 
 laughed, to Alison's mortification. 
 
 A crowd of young people had gathered at the 
 depot, bringing gifts of flowers and fruit, so that 
 when Alison entered her section of the Pullman 
 she found one seat too small for her numerous 
 belongings ; but Barbara Aurendell, who was tak-
 
 CAROLINE AT THE BALL 163 
 
 ing the same train as far as Chicago, offered to 
 share the stateroom which Mr. Donovan had 
 provided. 
 
 "It's too bad you didn't take Dickey you 
 need a canary and you haven't a bandbox, 
 either," was Mayre's laughing comment. "Well, 
 the best of luck ; kiss me dear, Mother and Father 
 are waiting." 
 
 Alison leaned over the rail, and the family pro- 
 cession moved up. "Kiss me twice three 
 times," Hope wailed. 
 
 Alison waved a trembling hand, turning to 
 hide smarting tears. The next minute the long 
 train was moving up the track, the engine steam- 
 ing and puffing. 
 
 Jimmy Ludlow stared after it, lost in thought. 
 A voice at his elbow brought him back. 
 
 "I I would just as soon ride home with you 
 in the cart as to go with Perkins," Caroline said 
 softly. "I I feel bad too. But you'll see her 
 again this winter, you know when you go back 
 to college." 
 
 Jimmy tucked her willing hand through his 
 arm. 
 
 "How about a trot over the mesa this after- 
 noon?" he asked. 
 
 Caroline's face was radiant as she answered : 
 
 "I'd love it love it better than anything in 
 the whole world."
 
 CHAPTER XIII 
 MADAME WAKEFIELD 
 
 IT was a few weeks after Alison's departure 
 that Caroline, busy writing in her tower 
 room, saw something happening across the 
 street that, for a moment, took away her breath. 
 The Lodge was being opened ! 
 She jumped up from her desk and ran to the 
 window for a better view. Yes, there was Timms, 
 the crusty old caretaker, flinging open shutters, 
 raising blinds and giving directions to people in- 
 side. In the yard men were shaking rugs, whisk- 
 ing the dust from furniture, opening packing 
 
 The view was too exciting to witness alone. 
 She flew down the stairs and over to the Briggs 
 house next door. Kathleen was just coming out 
 on the veranda. 
 
 "Did you see?" Caroline began, but Kathleen 
 interrupted : 
 
 "I was just coming over to tell you. Do you 
 suppose the man who lost his wife is coming 
 back? Maybe he's married again. Let's walk 
 slowly past the house and have a look."
 
 MADAME WAKEFIELD 165 
 
 Arm in arm they sauntered across the street. 
 Through the open windows they could see men 
 taking the covers off of furniture, polishing 
 floors, unpacking dishes. A middle-aged woman, 
 evidently a housekeeper, stood in the front hall 
 giving instructions in English strongly tinged 
 with cockney. 
 
 "Hopen the box 'ere," she commanded, shaking 
 her finger at a workman. "Don't drag it, 
 scratchin' hup the floors; 'ave a care! The 
 Madame's as particular about other people's 
 things has hif they were her own. Mind the 
 door!" 
 
 "The Madame!" Caroline said in a stage 
 whisper, and Kathleen echoed, "Madame." 
 
 For a moment they stood gazing into each 
 other's eyes. 
 
 "He must have married." 
 
 "He must!" 
 
 "How exciting. How many years since since 
 she died, Kathleen?" 
 
 Kathleen counted. "Four," she decided. 
 "Four last spring." 
 
 "A decent time to wait, w r asn't it? Do you 
 suppose this one is pretty and ill?" 
 
 "But she said other people's things " 
 
 "So she did! He must have rented the house 
 furnished." 
 
 Caroline's face fell. She loved a romance.
 
 166 THEN CAME CAROLINE 
 
 "Oh, dear, I just wager it's some frumpy old 
 woman with a lot of cats and things. I did hope 
 it was the Englishman. He sounded interest- 
 ing." 
 
 The next day Caroline's fears were realized. 
 It was an old woman, but not a frumpy one, and 
 the cats were dogs. 
 
 She and Kathleen were strolling past the 
 house after school. It had an atmosphere of liv- 
 ing about it. Smoke issued from three of the 
 great chimneys, and again Timms was busy in 
 the yard. 
 
 "I do wish we could see the lady of the house," 
 Kathleen sighed. 
 
 "Anybody would think you were a book 
 agent," Caroline laughed. 
 
 She was still laughing when the French door 
 opened on the side veranda and out stepped a 
 short, stout, roly-poly old lady with a poodle 
 dog in her arms. 
 
 Spying the girls, the dog squirmed in her 
 arms and bounded away, giving three peevish 
 staccato barks as he ran towards them. 
 
 His remarkable attire made the girls laugh 
 still harder. His slender, shaven little body was 
 encased in a delicate pink silk sweater. His 
 legs had been thrust through the sleeves. He 
 frisked about, his queer, splayed feet pattering 
 softly.
 
 MADAME WAIvEFIELD 167 
 
 After him, supported by a stout walking stick, 
 came his mistress. 
 
 "Ivan," she called, "Ivan Romanoff!" Come 
 back, dear; the grass is wet." 
 
 But Romanoff, his head in the air, continued 
 his sharp, naughty barks. 
 
 His mistress coaxed, whistled, an amusing 
 breathy whistle that lacked persuasion. 
 
 Down the steps she hobbled; she seemed to 
 have a good deal of difficulty in walking. Caro- 
 line thought she was too stout to be comfortable. 
 
 "Ivan, darling, do you hear me? The grass 
 is wet, and you are not accustomed to this 
 climate." 
 
 The voice was deep, cello-like in sweetness. 
 
 Madame Wakefield (Caroline afterward 
 learned her name) came toward the fence, lean- 
 ing heavily on her cane. 
 
 "Couldn't I get him for you?" Caroline offered, 
 seeing how the old lady panted for breath. "I 
 reckon maybe you aren't used to this altitude. 
 It always makes you breathe fast like that." 
 
 There was an amused smile, full of humor, 
 and then : 
 
 "Oh, dear, no, thank you! Ivan is very un- 
 gracious to strangers. Aren't you, dear?" She 
 had the dog in her arms again. 
 
 Caroline felt a little snubbed, but she an- 
 sw r ered :
 
 168 THEN CAME CAROLINE 
 
 "He's very cunning and smart looking. Is 
 is he a French poodle?" 
 
 "Dear no, child; he's Russian. Aren't you, 
 Ivan? You see, he's black and very leggy 
 and his eyes are red dark red " 
 
 Her tones were as staccato as Ivan's yelps. 
 She spoke in short sentences, between asthmatic 
 gasps. 
 
 "He looks as if he might be first cousin to a 
 spaniel," Caroline remarked. 
 
 It was an intelligent comparison, attracting 
 the keen-eyed old lady. She glanced from Ivan's 
 frowzled head to Caroline. 
 
 "Same family," she said, her smile spreading 
 into her ruddy, apple cheeks, English cheeks, 
 hard and weather-beaten. 
 
 That night at the dinner table Caroline gave a 
 very good description of the new neighbor. 
 
 "She looks as if she might be somewhere 
 around seventy, perhaps a little more, though 
 she's terribly spry except for one side which 
 seems to be a little stiff rheumatism, I reckon. 
 Her eyes are round and blue, as blue as yours, 
 'Mother, merry eyes that laugh not at you 
 but with you. They twinkle all the time. She's 
 disgracefully stout, and she has asthma. I 
 reckon if she comes to you, Major, you had better 
 diet her "
 
 MADAME WAKEFIELD 169 
 
 Doctor Ravenel bowed gravely, his lips twitch- 
 ing in a smile. 
 
 "Thank you for the suggestion, Caroline." 
 
 "Her voice," Caroline went on, "is wonderful; 
 honey and cream, and her accent oh, it's lovely. 
 English ! Every word, even the commonest ones 
 were beautiful." 
 
 Except from the tower room, Caroline saw 
 little of Madame Wakefield during the next 
 few weeks. Occasionally she glanced across to 
 find her having tea under a tree in the garden 
 (one had to be up high to see the garden, for 
 it was surrounded by a brick wall to insure 
 privacy, the front alone being open) with Ivan 
 on a chair beside her; sometimes his sweater 
 was blue, again white, but he always wore one, 
 regardless of weather. 
 
 Since Alison's departure, Caroline had found 
 little time to stroll around the block with Kath- 
 leen, for there was always work to be done, or 
 the office to be tended. 
 
 Alison wrote frequently: glowing letters of 
 Cousin Eliza, Uncle Finley, and the Seminary, 
 which was a little dull after high-school, but 
 none the less interesting. She missed the family 
 very much and thought of them night and day, 
 especially little Hope. There had always been 
 a tender bond between Alison and Hope. 
 
 It was soon after Alison's departure that Hope
 
 170 THEN CAME CAROLINE 
 
 began to droop, though Alison's going had little 
 to do with it. She had always been frail. Her 
 eyes grew large and wistful, her smile wan. 
 Doctor Ravenel watched her closely. 
 
 Sometimes she would wander into Alison's 
 room to caress her things: a discarded frock 
 still hanging in the closet, an old workbasket 
 which held her first thimble, a favorite book. 
 
 Leigh one day found her with Alison's picture 
 in her lap an exquisite likeness in a round 
 silver frame her hungry eyes devouring it. 
 
 "Isn't she beautiful, Sister?" she asked, hold- 
 ing the photograph out for inspection. 
 
 "Lovely, darling." 
 
 "Do you think we will ever see her again?" 
 
 "Why, of course, Hope; why do you ask that?" 
 
 "Oh, I don't know. Sometimes I think I 
 won't." She sighed deeply. 
 
 "I am a little anxious about Hopie," Leigh 
 said that evening to her father; she thought his 
 face sobered. 
 
 "We must keep her out of doors more," he 
 answered. "I wish I could afford to buy her a 
 pony." 
 
 It was a week later that Caroline came home 
 from school to find her small sister in the guest- 
 room bed with Maumy Rachel in close attend- 
 ance. 
 
 "Keep out'n here!" Maumy said, waving a
 
 MADAME WAKEFIELD 171 
 
 hand toward the door. "Yer Paw don't want 
 you round catching things till he knows what 
 little missy's got." 
 
 That night Hope's fever rose ; by morning she 
 was very ill. 
 
 The days following were anxious ones for all 
 the family. Mountain fever is not contagious 
 and not always dangerous, but Hope grew alarm- 
 ingly worse. Mrs. Ravenel took up her abode 
 in the sick chamber, though her husband had 
 insisted upon a trained nurse. Leigh went about 
 the house white and restless, trying to comfort 
 heart-broken old Maumy, run the house and at- 
 tend to the office, for Doctor Ravenel kept close 
 watch over the little patient on the third floor. 
 
 And, strangely enough, it was Caroline who 
 became the mainstay of the family, taking 
 Leigh's place in the household, for Leigh had to 
 be here, there and everywhere. Caroline ran 
 errands, carried ice and hot water to the room 
 above, washed Maumy's neglected dishes, dusted 
 the rooms and whispered words of encourage- 
 ment in her mother's ear. 
 
 "I declare, Caroline seems to have grown up 
 over night," Mayre said to her father. "She has 
 such good common sense. I don't seem to know, 
 what to do to be helpful." 
 
 Mrs. Ravenel too had proved herself. Her 
 tender mother love flamed to passion. She
 
 172 THEN CAME CAROLINE 
 
 could not be induced to leave Hope's side, even 
 for necessary rest or air. Her indolence van- 
 ished. She was wise and helpful, courageous in 
 the face of danger. Leigh begged to relieve her. 
 
 "My place is here, darling; do not insist upon 
 my leaving Hope. When she is better, I will 
 rest." 
 
 And so the days moved on, slowly, intolerably. 
 One day there was hope; the next was filled with 
 despair. 
 
 Sometimes Caroline would steal into the big 
 square chamber and stand quietly at the foot of 
 the bed, watching Hope's hot, restless head toss- 
 ing on the pillow. But she did not cry as Mayre 
 did, or wring her hands. She was calm under 
 her burden; the energy and determination of 
 other days had swerved to definite purpose. 
 
 But late one afternoon, when she asked her 
 father if there were hope for her sister's recov- 
 ery, he had put his head in his hands. He could 
 not answe 
 
 She tiptoed away silently and went out to 
 Maumy Kachel's kitchen. The old servant was 
 not there. Caroline found her in her room, a 
 comfortable place in the basement. Maumy 
 Rachel was sitting in her favorite chair, an old 
 hickory rocker that had come along with her 
 from Virginia. 
 
 Caroline glanced about; on the bed flamed
 
 MADAME WAKEFIELD 173 
 
 the red and green sunrise quilt that Kufus's 
 wife had brought as a parting gift; above it 
 hung the pictures of Maumy's family : Khodalia 
 and Maria, Dorwin and his wife Mandy, to- 
 gether with their three small pickaninnies. On 
 the old marble-topped table Maumy's Bible lay 
 open; some one had been reading to her from 
 it, Leigh, probably. 
 
 "Maumy," Caroline whispered, for the old 
 woman was lost in thought. "Maumy is Hope 
 going to die?" 
 
 Maumy stretched out her arms and Caroline 
 sank down in them, turning her face to the 
 bosom that had never failed of comfort. 
 
 "Lammie," Maumy crooned, "lammie." 
 
 When the sobs had quieted, she went on: 
 
 "It am jes' like this, honey. Sometimes the 
 good Gord He look down on this yere earth and 
 He sees a lubly blossom that He wants up there 
 on high to plant in His big, heabenly garden. 
 (There was a choking pause.) An' He reach 
 down, lammie, way down here and He picks 
 dat flower picks it, lammie, fer Hisself up 
 there." 
 
 "No, no, Maumy! Not Hope not my little 
 sister." 
 
 "The good Gord can't stop to think who's 
 sister it is, honey. He know best He know 
 best."
 
 174 THEN CAME CAROLINE 
 
 There was a silence broken only by sobs, and 
 then: 
 
 "Maumy I am so sorry I teased her you 
 remember at home how I used to frighten 
 her." 
 
 "Don't you think about dat, honey. Dat war 
 just natural debilment it had to break out, 
 lak the measles er de chicken pox. It war in 
 de system. An' old Maumy's boun' to say dat 
 debilish as y'war, youse been a help to every- 
 body in dis hour a mis'ry yes'm Maumy got 
 to say dat." 
 
 Caroline slipped away quietly. At the kitchen 
 door she stopped and looked across the avenue. 
 Twilight had fallen. 
 
 Something in the great brooding silence 
 quieted her. She slipped across the vacant lots 
 and took the narrow path that led to the hills. 
 
 As she walked, she wondered if other places 
 were half so beautiful as Colorado at hush time. 
 She always thought of those few moments just 
 preceding dusk as "hush time." The mountains 
 seemed to feel it, the flowers and trees. Every- 
 thing stopped; even the quivering aspens along 
 the creek bed. Nature was making its obeisance. 
 
 It was an ominous, portentious calm a gentle 
 stillness. Etched against the gray-blue sky, the 
 mountains flushed with the sun's last glow. 
 
 And then, out of the heart of the old peak, a
 
 MADAME WAKEFIELD 175 
 
 breeze moved, stirred the stubble grass, the 
 aspens shook ; a bird fluttered to its nest, calling 
 to it's mate. 
 
 She wondered if death were not like that; a 
 pause then a beginning somewhere else, 
 perhaps, as Maumy said, up in His garden. 
 
 It was quite dark when she came back. There 
 seemed to be a fluttering in the house; behind 
 closed blinds shadows moved swiftly. Up in 
 the guest room lights flared. She heard a low, 
 heart-rending cry. 
 
 It had come, she knew, hush time for little 
 Hope! 
 
 She entered the house as she had left it. The 
 kitchen was empty. Wonderingly she climbed 
 the back stairs, feeling her way through the dark 
 hall to her mother's room.
 
 CHAPTER XIV 
 THREE YEARS LATER 
 
 THREE years had passed since that memo- 
 rable day when little Hope left her 
 beloved family : three rather uneventful 
 years. 
 
 Alison's stay of a year had lengthened into 
 three, a part of the time having been spent 
 abroad. Cousin Eliza had proved a warm friend, 
 making it so delightful for her young protege 
 that she was content to remain indefinitely. 
 
 In Paris Alison had met Barbara Aurendel, 
 and together, under Cousin Eliza's chaperonage, 
 they had made a tour of France and Italy. It had 
 been a wonderful excursion, and the home let- 
 ters were full of entrancing experiences. 
 
 "In England," Alison wrote, "I kept an eye 
 out for Great-aunt Caroline, but not knowing 
 her name I was at a disadvantage. Every time 
 I saw a 'personage,' with a pearl necklace or 
 flashing tiara, I imagined it might be she, but 
 of course, without proof, I could not snatch my 
 precious heirlooms."
 
 THREE YEARS LATER 177 
 
 Between the lines the family caught glimpses 
 of other happenings. 
 
 "I wish," she wrote, "that you could know 
 Tevis McElroy. (Cousin Eliza says Mother will 
 remember the McElroys, relatives of the St. 
 Ivans Mayres wonderful family) who came 
 over on the boat with us. He has been very 
 attentive. I am interested. The McElroys have 
 a beautiful estate just at the edge of the city, 
 marvelous old place with oaks a hundred years 
 old, gardens, drives, charmingly laid out. Mayre 
 would rave. Tevis and his sister Alice are the 
 only children, heirs to the McElroy millions." 
 
 And a few months later Cousin Eliza wrote 
 Mrs. Ravenel: 
 
 "I realize that I am treading on very sacred 
 ground, dear cousin Emily, when I write to 
 plead the cause of Tevis McElroy, the son of 
 my girlhood friend, Nancy Fairchild. I have 
 known Tevis from babyhood knitted his first 
 socks in fact, to go farther back, planned his 
 layette. I know him to be, in spite of his wealth, 
 which in this age is so often a handicap as far 
 as character is concerned, a clean, upright young 
 man, clever and purposeful. Alison has no 
 doubt told you that he is beginning the practice 
 of law, and as for his family well, I can only 
 say that I consider him quite the equal of a Rave- 
 nel or Kirtley. He is to-day writing you and
 
 178 THEN CAME CAROLINE 
 
 the doctor for darling Alison's hand in mar- 
 riage. I trust you will regard the child's affec- 
 tion for him ( I am convinced that this is a great 
 love) and consent to an early wedding." 
 
 "But what about Jimmy!" Caroline blazed 
 when the astounding news was discussed in the 
 family. "Alison is perfectly horrid to fling him 
 aside just because she has a chance at a mil- 
 lionaire! But it is just like her." 
 
 "We do not know that Jimmy has ever really 
 proposed to her," Mayre defended, awed with 
 the grandeur confronting her sister 
 
 "Proposed!" Caroline snapped. "Proposed! 
 His eyes proposed every time they glanced 
 at her. They they ate her up. She knew. 
 And what do you suppose he was taking me 
 horseback riding for tagging me around and 
 bringing me candy? I knew. He thought I 
 would tell her how nice he was. And he is a 
 heap nicer than this this interloper." High- 
 school had much improved Caroline's vocabu- 
 lary. 
 
 And it was Caroline who, a few days later, 
 when the parental blessing had been forwarded 
 by letter, (Doctor Kavenel had begged for time 
 to consider the matter, but for once his wife 
 overruled) broke the news to Jimmy. 
 
 It was a September afternoon, cool and golden 
 after the usual thunder shower that swept the
 
 THREE YEARS LATER 179 
 
 valley. Caroline loved those storms: the .wild 
 rumblings that resounded from dome to dome 
 of the rocky peaks, the lightning that sprang 
 out of the clouds, snapping through the black- 
 ness. She could never get over the feeling that 
 the elements were at war. And she loved the 
 peace that came after the sweet moist smell of 
 the earth the dripping leaves the garden 
 perfumes the cool sandy walks ditch boxes 
 singing and overflowing. 
 
 "Would you like to go for a tramp over the 
 mesa?" she telephoned to Jimmy. "I have some- 
 thing to to tell you " 
 
 "Wouldn't you rather ride?" came the thought- 
 ful invitation. 
 
 "I think not. Could we start now at once?" 
 
 They were well on the way when she looked 
 up. Jimmy's eyes met hers. 
 
 At sixteen Caroline had lost her childish 
 awkwardness, emerging into promising young 
 womanhood. Colorado had toned her up, added 
 to her stature; she had outdistanced Mayre in 
 height. Her eyes were no longer too large for her 
 face; her cheeks revealed unsuspected dimples 
 when she smiled. Jimmy's prophesy of "looks" 
 had been fulfilled. Some thought her handsomer 
 than Alison. Kindness shone from her eyes; de- 
 termination sat upon her well-defined, but unob- 
 trusive chin ; her shapely mouth was tender and
 
 180 THEN CAME CAROLINE 
 
 sincere. She was no longer rude and hoydenish, 
 though there was still a delightful uncertainty 
 about her moods and actions. She was still 
 venturesome, inquiring, romantic; still enthusi- 
 astic. 
 
 "I have something to tell you, Jimmy." 
 
 "Fire!" said the handsome college youth 
 keeping step beside her. 
 
 "I am going to quickly and have it over. 
 Alison's engaged. To a Southerner ten years 
 older than herself. Tevis McElroy of Rich- 
 mond." 
 
 She had turned her eyes from his ; she could not 
 bear to see the pain creep into them. 
 
 But Jimmy's voice, strong and vibrant, gave 
 her courage. She met his smile wonderingly. 
 
 "So it's really on, is it, regular thing, engage- 
 ment? Bully for Alison. She wrote me she was 
 awaiting the family's decision." 
 
 Caroline gasped. 
 
 "And you don't mind any more than that? 
 I thought I " 
 
 "Mind? I am delighted! Alison's a peach, 
 
 and as to age " he looked down at the rosy 
 
 face beside him questioningly. "You don't think 
 ten years matters, do you, if people really 
 
 care " his voice dropped as if the word were 
 
 sacred. "Of course I think seven would be 
 better perhaps "
 
 'You will come?" he asked. Page 181.
 
 THREE YEARS LATER 181 
 
 "You really don't care for Alison? Like 
 that?" 
 
 Jimmy's charming smile widened. 
 
 "I care a heap, Caroline. So much so that I 
 want to see her happy. But like that no 
 I should prefer her as as a sister " 
 
 He stopped suddenly 
 
 "Finish," she commanded. 
 
 "Not to-day." 
 
 "Why?" 
 
 "Because " 
 
 He wheeled suddenly and looked deep into 
 the topaz eyes. 
 
 "I'll make a date with you, Caroline. I will 
 meet you here two years from this afternoon 
 at what time is it four o'clock. At four 
 o'clock precisely if I am living, and finish 
 that sentence. It wouldn't be quite fair to do 
 it now perhaps even then I may postpone it." 
 
 Caroline started to speak, but hesitated; a 
 flush spread from her creamy neck to the roots 
 of her brown hair. 
 
 "You will come?" he asked. 
 
 They had stopped for a moment; he lingered, 
 waiting for her promise. 
 
 "Yes if I am here, I will come." 
 
 He took a notebook from his pocket, and rip- 
 ping out a leaf, wrote a date upon it. Caroline 
 laughed as she read it.
 
 182 THEN CAME CAROLINE 
 
 "Now let's go home and have some of Maumy's 
 muffins," she said quickly. "I heard her say as 
 I came out she was going to make them to- 
 night. Perhaps your mother will come over for 
 tea." 
 
 "I think she would be charmed. Maumy's 
 muffins would tempt Jove " 
 
 "To say nothing of our society Mother's and 
 Leigh's and " 
 
 "Caroline's." 
 
 "Thank you." 
 
 "It will be my last tea with you, too ; I leave 
 to-morrow." 
 
 Caroline's heart fluttered but she said quietly : 
 
 "How nice. It must be wonderful going to 
 college. I hope I may some day. But I shall 
 go West out through that old gateway over 
 there." She pointed to a cleft in the mountains. 
 "Somehow I always feel that my way lies there 
 on the other side." 
 
 Jimmy drew a sunburned finger across the 
 pucker that perched upon her brow 
 
 "Over the hills and far away," he laughed. 
 
 "Over the hills and far away," she sighed, 
 swinging into step beside him. 
 
 An hour later in the tower room, she took a 
 crumpled piece of paper from her sweater 
 pocket and straightening it neatly, pinned it 
 beside a motto that hung there a homemade
 
 THREE YEARS LATER 183 
 
 motto that Mayre had embellished for her. The 
 slip of paper read : 
 
 September the fifteenth, 19 
 
 The Mesa 
 Four o'clock 
 
 Caroline looked from the memorandum to her 
 improvised axiom. 
 
 "Think straight, look straight, act straight 
 then do as you please," it advised. 
 
 She smiled dreamily. 
 
 As of old, the tower room was Caroline's 
 most treasured possession; the old desk, her 
 friend and comforter. She still scribbled. 
 Pigeonholes overflowed with the tide of verse, 
 short stories, dramas that ebbed from her brain. 
 Occasionally she sent forth a bit, sure that a 
 publisher would welcome it warmly, but it al- 
 ways came back. 
 
 "Was the Misty Mountain Maid accepted?" 
 Kathleen asked, when a novelette continued 
 en tour for a month. She had listened to the 
 reading with awed interest. 
 
 Caroline nodded. 
 
 "Really? Who accepted it?" 
 
 "I did thankfully when it came back. The 
 editors were wise. I can do much better " 
 
 "What did they say?" 
 
 A frank smile wreathed Caroline's lips.
 
 184 THEN CAME CAROLINE 
 
 "That my spelling was the only sign of genius 
 they could discover." 
 
 "Truly?" 
 
 "Truly." 
 
 "How sarcastic and horrid!" 
 
 Caroline gave her friend a patient glance. 
 
 "You don't understand, Kathy dear/' she 
 said. "It is very encouraging to have even an 
 adverse criticism on the margin of a manuscript. 
 It shows that it has been read and I am not 
 looking for compliments. I am looking for 
 criticism." 
 
 An attitude that argued well for future 
 success. 
 
 But the years had not left their telling marks 
 upon Caroline alone. Doctor and Mrs. Ravenel 
 had both aged under the stress of Hope's sud- 
 den going, of heavy responsibilities and uncer- 
 tain health. Colorado had done its part toward 
 improving Doctor RaveneFs lungs. He was in 
 far better health than when he arrived in the 
 mountains; he breathed with less difficulty; his 
 step was more buoyant; his outlook brighter. 
 But cares weighed upon him ; sick people fretted 
 him, especially the poor who struggled against 
 heavy odds. His own condition had made him 
 keenly sympathetic. He gave away half that 
 he made and often failed to collect the rest. 
 Business acumen had no place in his make-up.
 
 THREE YEARS LATER 185 
 
 He was too fine a physician, too interested in 
 his profession to commercialize his talents, to 
 specialize among the rich. Caroline had come 
 by her democracy honestly. He knew neither 
 race nor class. 
 
 "It was absurd for you to get up in the night 
 to see Uncle George (an aged Virginia negro 
 who had been ill)," Leigh scolded when the 
 call resulted in a cold. 
 
 "Uncle George is a human being," was the 
 quiet answer. "His pain is as gripping as a 
 white man's!" 
 
 It was useless to argue. Robert Ravenel 
 would have preferred death in a good cause to 
 rest and neglect of duty. 
 
 Maumy Rachel was also changing. Her step 
 was slower, her homesickness a little more 
 poignant, but she seldom murmured. Her 
 loyalty never flagged. Her place was with Miss 
 Em'bly to the end. 
 
 "Y'all gwine be carryin' me out the front door 
 one a these days," she sometimes said, w r hen 
 rheumatism nagged her. "It won't be long. 
 I'se gwine cross ole Jerden fer sure." 
 
 Maum Rachel's one desire in life was to have 
 all the honors that were coming to her in death. 
 
 "Co'se they won't be anybody in this here 
 wilderness that'll care whether you take me out 
 front or back but it can be writ home to Vir-
 
 186 THEN CAME CAROLINE 
 
 ginny. And I want y'all to lay it on thick. 
 Tell'm how Brother Brown he prayed, and the 
 choir they done sung, and how y'all taken me 
 out the front door/ I don't want you to forgit 
 that the front door same as any Kirtley. My 
 ole Miss (this was to Leigh), your gran'maw, 
 she done promised that years ago. Miss Em'bly, 
 she undastan's." 
 
 "We all understand, Maumy dear. Out the 
 front door you go, and every darky in Warrens- 
 burg shall know about it," Leigh promised. 
 
 "Thankee, honey. I'se gwine trust y'all I'se 
 gwine trust." 
 
 But on well days she w r as more optimistic. 
 
 "Specs I'se gwine outlive y'all," she- declared, 
 "every one of you. They won't be anybody to 
 carry me out the front door. Reckon I'll be 
 the las' ole sour apple lef in the Kirtley or- 
 chard. Eeckon maybe y'all gwine have to kill 
 me off like old dog Tray." 
 
 One day she came to Leigh with a roll of bills 
 done up in a pocket handkerchief. 
 
 "You keep this fer me, honey," she begged. 
 "It's to cart my ole bones back to Virginny. I 
 couldn't rest out here with them ole rocks 
 yander a watchin' me. Miss Caroline done wrote 
 Dorwin's wife 'bout havin' a service fer me at 
 home, too. I've saved enough fer a right smart 
 burial right smart. You don't need to stint it
 
 THREE YEARS LATER 187 
 
 any git a wreath if you want to, er a sheaf a 
 wheat dat's fer ole age a sheaf with roses 
 maybe." 
 
 "A sheaf it shall be, Maum Rachel/' Leigh 
 said, and put the money in the bank. 
 
 During the three years, Mayre, perhaps, had 
 changed less than others in the family. At 
 nineteen she was as complete a replica of her 
 mother at that age as nature could reproduce. 
 A little below medium height, slender, but with 
 promise of flesh in later years. 
 
 Her four years in high-school had been un- 
 eventful, patient, plodding years, in which she 
 added as best she could, with limited facilities, 
 to her store of art. In manner she was retiring, 
 shrinking a little from society. It was Caroline 
 who brought young life into the house, never 
 Mayre. She preferred her sketch-book and water 
 colors to people; long walks in the parks and 
 nearby canons to trivial personalities which 
 made up the general conversation of her friends. 
 
 In the summer time her garden occupied her 
 whole attention. It was a beautiful garden, so 
 beautiful that passers-by often stopped to look 
 over the low stone coping with its iron fence. 
 The Virginia roses had bloomed, despite the 
 short season. Zinnias and daffodils, hyacinths 
 and mignonette, petunias and phlox vied with 
 each other in color and fragrance, while the
 
 188 THEN CAME CAROLINE 
 
 honeysuckles perfumed the whole neighborhood. 
 
 The short, sweet-scented twilight invariably 
 found Mayre on a rustic bench under the peach 
 tree, her hands crossed in her lap, her eyes half- 
 closed and dreamy. 
 
 There was a suggestion of haughtiness about 
 Mayre that was at base shyness. She was 
 sensitive in the extreme: a peculiar sensitive- 
 ness that is often found in talented people, a 
 feeling of unworthiness, of inability to reach 
 the standard set by a' demanding conscience. 
 
 Leigh recognized this peculiar quirk and tried 
 in various ways to overcome it. Caroline had 
 no patience with it. By a process of elimina- 
 tion, she reduced it to snobbishness. Mayre dis- 
 liked ordinary people she had no patience with 
 boys, no small talk with which to beguile them 
 she was critical old-maidish. 
 
 But Caroline only half guessed at the real 
 truth. Mayre's nature was too spiritual, too tem- 
 permental to find companionship in "ordinary 
 people." Her mind was occupied with lofty 
 ideals, plans to increase the world's beauty. 
 Anything ugly, or ordinary, or commonplace 
 was a blot on God's creation. She could not 
 help feeling that way, any more than she could 
 resist weeding her garden or pruning the peach 
 tree or adding tawny, golden touches to Caro- 
 line's costumes.
 
 THREE YEARS LATER 189 
 
 Leigh was different, more evenly balanced, 
 more fortunate: she had inherited the best that 
 her father and mother had to bestow. She was 
 tender, loving, above all, sympathetic, with an 
 understanding that took in rich and poor. She 
 was never critical except when her father over- 
 worked never wholly discouraged. 
 
 Of all the family she was the most self-less. 
 Her own comfort, her own pleasure, her own 
 desires were the last to be considered. It was 
 Leigh to whom Caroline brought her knotty 
 problems; Leigh to whom Mrs. Ravenel com- 
 plained about limited means and inefficient 
 help; Leigh who visited her father's poor and 
 made two dollars stretch to five. 
 
 So, it was little wonder that one summer 
 moonlit night, on the deserted veranda, when 
 Blair Newland pressed his suit, told her of the 
 love that filled his heart, she answered: 
 
 "But I cannot leave Father and Mother and 
 the girls, Blair dear, even though I care for 
 you and I do oh, so much. They need me 
 more than you do. You are young. You will 
 find some one else some one stronger better 
 fitted to be your wife." 
 
 Blair understood. 
 
 "It is because of that I love you, Leigh," he 
 said tenderly. "Because you are not so strong 
 as the rest; it sets you apart. I want to take
 
 190 THEN CAME CAROLINE 
 
 care of you protect you. I have money enough 
 to save you from hardship and worry. And I 
 need you more than you may think. I am all 
 alone." 
 
 For a moment her breath came quick and fast 
 < but duty persisted. 
 
 "You don't quite understand," she said, her 
 blue eyes welling with tears. "Of course you 
 can't. Father is so far from strong, I am his 
 other self really. And mother she is not 
 constituted to help him not as I am, you know. 
 She is his inspiration for her he lives and 
 breathes and " 
 
 She stopped. 
 
 "Don't you see?" she went on, her small white 
 hands clasped together in an agony of feeling. 
 "I must refuse your love for them. One can- 
 not do wrong and feel right. I could not make 
 you happy knowing their need." 
 
 And Blair had taken the trembling hands in 
 his own and wiped away the tears. 
 
 "I can wait until you find that my need is 
 even greater than theirs," he said patiently.
 
 CHAPTER XV 
 
 THE MADAME VIEWS AUNT CAROLINE 
 
 A LTHOUGH The Lodge continued to be a 
 A\ never-failing source of interest to Caro- 
 line, she rarely saw its occupants. Occa- 
 sionally Madame Wakefield appeared in the sun 
 parlor, to be served tea by a decorous English 
 maid, picturesque in her black dress, white cap 
 and apron. 
 
 Sometimes, in crossing the street, Caroline 
 met a young man emerging from the house, a 
 well-set-up, attractive young man of Jimmy 
 Ludlow's age. He always stepped aside with a 
 pleasant smile and gave her the better part of 
 the sandy walk. There was an expression in his 
 eyes (what she could catch of it through his 
 heavily rimmed, tortoise-shell glasses), that 
 went with her for blocks. 
 
 "I wonder what he does there," she thought, 
 as she wended her way to high school. "He 
 looks too well groomed for a servant, and too 
 young for manager. Perhaps he is a relative."
 
 192 THEN CAME CAROLINE 
 
 She found out one day in a very unexpected 
 manner. It was shortly after Jimmy's depart- 
 ure: a rare September afternoon, so beautiful 
 that every one who owned a horse, a motor, or 
 a high, red-wheeled dogcart was driving up the 
 long white avenue. 
 
 She was nearing The Lodge, when suddenly 
 from out a corner of the low green hedge Ivan 
 Romanoff bounded. He gave her a quick look 
 as he ran toward the avenue, and, evidently in- 
 terested in her appearance, turned for another 
 view, raising his shaggy head in a saucy bark. 
 
 It was an ill-timed glance. Caroline saw the 
 danger instantly, and dropping her books on 
 the pavement, rushed to his rescue. 
 
 Ivan was not used to motors, except in the 
 garage where they were always silent, and the 
 quick, warning blasts from a chauffeur's horn 
 bewildered him. 
 
 Caroline never quite knew how the accident 
 happened. It was all sudden and disturbing, 
 but when she regained her senses she found her- 
 self being led from the avenue with poor little 
 Ivan's mangled body in her arms, and a nice 
 English voice, the most beautiful, musical voice 
 was saying: 
 
 "My dear young lady, you risked your life for 
 the little chap ; really, you know, it was wonder- 
 ful to see you do it such nerve. You must
 
 MADAME'S VISIT 193 
 
 come into the house with me and let Madame, 
 my aunt, speak with you. She will be no end 
 grateful " 
 
 "But I wasn't in time, so she hasn't anything 
 to to thank me for," Caroline said while two 
 luminous tears welled in her eyes. 
 
 The young man looked at her in bewilderment. 
 
 "But it might have been you we are carrying 
 in. Jove, what an escape! It was a ripping 
 dash. I was after the little beggar, too. It 
 takes a houseful to watch him " 
 
 "Your aunt will be grieved, won't she?" Caro- 
 line asked (the young man had taken the dog 
 from her) ; "she seemed fond of him." 
 
 "Oh, I say, no end, yes ! Ivan's her creed, her 
 law and gospel. But when one has mothered 
 all the children in the family and seen them 
 settled in homes of their own nieces, nephews, 
 orphans and servants why, one is entitled to 
 the affection of a heathen god isn't one? I beg 
 your pardon my name is Feveral, and yours?" 
 
 "Caroline Ravenel." 
 
 "This way, please, Miss Ravenel (they were 
 in the charming, softly curtained hall), and sit 
 down, won't you? I will have James bring you 
 some wine at once " 
 
 "Oh, not wine please. Just cold water. 
 And I think I won't stop now. Your aunt will 
 be too distressed."
 
 194 THEN CAME CAROLINE 
 
 The sentence was left suspended, for Mr. 
 Feveral had taken the dog away. 
 
 Caroline sank down on the edge of a rich 
 velvet chair, then seeing how dust-begrimed she 
 was, moved to a less pretentious one. She be- 
 gan to realize what a risk she had taken when 
 She glanced at herself in the gold-framed mirror 
 above the table where young Feveral had thrown 
 his gray tweed cap. Her dress was torn, a long 
 rent that Leigh's careful darning would never 
 hide; the hairpins had fallen from her hair, 
 letting it loose over her back. Across her cheek 
 there was a slight abrasion (she never learned 
 how she received it), and her hands were soiled 
 and wet with Ivan's blood. 
 
 "Oh, I I am a sight," she said aloud and 
 jumping up made her way from the house 
 quickly. 
 
 It was an hour later that Alfred Feveral lo- 
 cated her (perhaps he hadn't as much difficulty 
 as she imagined) and begged her to run over to 
 the house for a moment. Madame was very 
 anxious to see her. 
 
 The stout old lady was still bathed in tears; 
 her merry eyes had lost their sparkle, but she 
 rose and stretched a welcoming hand. 
 
 "Alfred has told me of your splendid bravery, 
 dear child," she said. "How can I ever thank 
 you?"
 
 MADAME'S VISIT 195 
 
 "You mustn't try. I did so little. I am only 
 sorry that I wasn't quicker." 
 
 "You risked your life your life for little 
 Ivan. I can never forget it never !" 
 
 "Perhaps if I had thought about my danger 
 I wouldn't have done it," Caroline said frankly. 
 "My old darky Maumy says I've got 'a. nat'rl 
 appitude for acting first and thinking after- 
 ward.' I reckon maybe she's right." 
 
 Madame Wakefield caught the Southern ac- 
 cent, noted the softly modulated voice. 
 
 "You are from the South?" she inquired. 
 
 "Virginia. We came here five years ago for 
 my father's health. He was quite ill then, but 
 now he is almost well Colorado is so wonder- 
 ful." 
 
 "And your name?" 
 
 "Ravenel. My father is Doctor Robert Rave- 
 nel. We live almost across the street." 
 
 "I see. Virginia, you say. May I ask what 
 part?" 
 
 "A small place called Warrensburg. Nearly 
 the whole town was once owned by my grand- 
 father, but after the war we lost a lot of prop- 
 erty most Southerners did, you know " 
 
 Madame Wakefield sank back upon the sofa 
 again. She seemed crushed and weary, but she 
 glanced often at the charming face opposite. 
 When Caroline turned to speak with Alfred
 
 196 THEN CAME CAROLINE 
 
 Feveral, she became more bold. Her keen eyes 
 traversed the animated profile slowly, wonder- 
 ingly. 
 
 "You are English, I reckon," she heard her 
 saying to Alfred. "You speak as if you were. 
 We have relatives in England at least we once 
 had no doubt my Great-aunt Caroline is dead 
 now. She was Mother's aunt. She married when 
 ehe was only eighteen, and went over there to 
 live. We have a lovely portrait of her. You'd 
 like it, I am sure. She seems so good-natured. 
 So sort of human, you know. Her smile always 
 says, "Howdy, I hope I see you well." They 
 think in the family that I look a little like her 
 a very little. I am more Ravenel than Kirt- 
 ley- 
 
 She broke off suddenly for Madame Wakefield 
 had straightened and was peering down at her 
 with wide, interested eyes. 
 
 "I beg your pardon. I am talking an awful 
 lot, I know. I thought perhaps it might take 
 your mind from from your trouble. Father 
 always says you mustn't talk disease to sick 
 people, it's bad for them, and Maumy Rachel 
 she's my old nurse has a saying all negroes 
 have " 
 
 "Yes?" Madame's voice was eager. 
 
 "Maumy says 'you must never speak of a rope 
 in a house where there has been a hanging.' Its
 
 MADAME'S VISIT 197 
 
 just a sort of proverb, you know, but it applies 
 to a lot of things 
 
 Alfred's laugh rang out low and clear. 
 
 "I say, Madame, why haven't we known Miss 
 Ravenel before. Here we've been dying of ennui, 
 with an antidote right across the street. I hope 
 that you will adopt us, Miss " 
 
 "Call me Caroline, please. I am hardly 
 grown up yet. You see, I have three older 
 sisters. I had four but but the little one 
 our darling Hope left us three years ago " 
 
 "I am very sorry." Madame's voice was full 
 of sympathy. "You were speaking of this aunt 
 in England. What was her name? It is barely 
 possible I may have chanced upon her. I know 
 a great many people " 
 
 "That's the funny part of it. We can't for 
 the life of us remember her married name. 
 Mother can't, even. It was all so long ago. But 
 we have a lot of fun about her. My sister Ali- 
 son is some day going to inherit her diamonds 
 and pearls. Mayre's going to Paris to study 
 art with the pile she leaves her, and I " 
 
 "Yes, and you?" Madame seemed very inter- 
 ested. 
 
 "I used to think I would take my money and 
 buy a circus, but I have rather outgrown that 
 idea. I think now perhaps a private menagerie 
 would be enough, with a baby wildcat, you can
 
 198 THEN CAME CAROLINE 
 
 get them here in the mountains, a few good dogs, 
 and a pony." 
 
 "You like dogs?" It was Alfred who asked the 
 question. 
 
 "I love them. We have one: Chow, an Aire- 
 dale. He is very smart. I fear I must be going 
 now. Perhaps, if you really have been bored 
 and lonesome, you would come over some after- 
 noon and have tea with us on the veranda. 
 Maumy has quite a reputation on her corn bread 
 and muffins. I think you would like them. 
 Mother has never made calls since since my 
 sister died but I will ask Leigh to run over. 
 Leigh is my young lady sister a perfect saint." 
 
 It was just two weeks later (Leigh had will- 
 ingly made the call) that Madame Wakefield 
 and her nephew came to tea. 
 
 Maumy donned her best white apron, her 
 snowiest cap. It was too cool for the veranda, 
 so a cheerful fire was laid on the old brass and 
 irons in the drawing-room. 
 
 The hour passed quickly. Madame Wakefield 
 was entertaining, her nephew delightful. He 
 seemed particularly interested in Mayre's draw- 
 ings, which Caroline had insisted upon being 
 shown, and in her charming garden. 
 
 "You have a real gift," he declared, as they 
 strolled through the grounds, viewing the artis- 
 tic arrangement of flowers and shrubs. "I have
 
 MADAME'S VISIT 199 
 
 had some experience in landscaping, myself. At 
 home we make rather a specialty of it. Those 
 groups and masses over there. Excellent ! And 
 the open center! Capital!" He laughed pleas- 
 antly. 
 
 "By the way," he added, "walk back with us, 
 and I will give you some textbooks and magazines 
 on the subject." He included Caroline. 
 
 In the hall Madam Wakefield paused in front 
 of Grandfather Kirtley's portrait. 
 
 "Your daughter spoke to me about her an- 
 cestors," she said to Mrs. Kavenel. "This is 
 your paternal grandfather?" 
 
 Caroline entered at that moment. 
 
 "Please look at Great-aunt, too, Madame 
 Wakefield. You remember I told you about her 
 up there in the niche. Isn't she lovely just 
 everything that a girl ought to be?" 
 
 Madame Wakefield went a few steps nearer, 
 holding her lorgnette to her short-sighted eyes. 
 She seemed warm and puffy. Her apple cheeks 
 were scarlet. 
 
 "Very, indeed." 
 
 "Don't you like her smile? I do hope if she's 
 passed on she took that smile with her. It would 
 cheer up most any angel wouldn't it? Maybe 
 angels don't need cheering, though. I love that 
 twinkle; her eyes make me think of stars. When 
 I was very little, I used sometimes to be rather
 
 200 THEN CAME CAROLINE 
 
 naughty very naughty," she corrected, "and 
 when I passed Great-aunt on the stairs, she 
 seemed to be laughing at me. Once I remember 
 the time very well it annoyed me so that I put 
 my tongue out at her you know as naughty 
 children do." 
 
 As usual, Caroline was going back into the 
 family saga. Maumy gave her a gentle nudge 
 as she passed with the luster cups on the round 
 mahogany tray. 
 
 Madame studied the portrait for some minutes. 
 "Very interesting," was her only comment, as 
 she opened the black fan suspended from her 
 heavy wrist. Her face was still red. 
 
 Caroline was eager to view the house across 
 the way, and when Madame suggested that Al- 
 fred show them through, she was delighted. 
 
 She had seen handsome houses before, but 
 there was an air about The Lodge that delighted 
 her very soul. 
 
 "It is so beautiful," she said, glancing about 
 the living room. Back of the long deep sofa ran 
 an equally long table with two handsome lamps 
 upon it; books and magazines added to its in- 
 terest. There was another table at one end that 
 also held books and Alfred's pipes and cigars. 
 A magazine had been left open. Caroline al- 
 most wanted to drop down on the soft cushions 
 beside it and continue where some one had left
 
 Madame studied the portrait for some 
 minutes. Page 200.
 
 MADAME'S VISIT 201 
 
 off she knew that someone had it was 
 thrown down so carelessly. 
 
 But it was the sitting room upstairs, replica 
 of the one below, only more cozy and intimate, 
 that fascinated her. A sleepy fire burned on a 
 generous hearth ; comfortable chairs were drawn 
 close; a shaggy dog rose as they entered, and 
 showed his pink tongue in a prodigious yawn. 
 A white cat with a snuggling kitten slept on a 
 mulberry velvet cushion slept as if dogs were 
 natural friends not enemies. 
 
 There was ample time to look about while 
 Mayre and her host pored over books and maga- 
 zines. When they did turn, they found her 
 dreaming over a man's portrait above the mantel. 
 
 "I like him: almost as well as Great-aunt," 
 she said, roused to conversation. "Please tell us 
 about him." 
 
 Alfred's eyes rested sadly on the handsome 
 face above. 
 
 "My brother Charles eldest in our family, 
 poor chap. He lost his wife here a few years 
 ago. Tough luck. Never's got over it. They 
 were sweethearts from childhood. One of those 
 romantic affairs that stick." 
 
 "Oh!" The word came in a smothered gasp. 
 Caroline was squirming with interest. She 
 wanted to ask a dozen questions which good taste 
 forbade.
 
 202 THEN CAME CAROLINE 
 
 But later, when May re and Alfred had gone 
 below to look at shrubs and the arrangement of 
 flower beds, Madame Wakefield came into the 
 room and sat down by the fire. Caroline took 
 her courage in her hands and asked about the 
 aristocratic looking gentleman above. 
 
 And well perhaps it was because Madame 
 was in a mellow, reminiscent mood, or perhaps 
 she felt drawn to Caroline because of poor little 
 Ivan; at any rate she told her the sad story of 
 Charles Feveral and his girl wife : of their happy 
 childhood, long courtship, and the tragic end so 
 far from home and friends. 
 
 "These are all his things," she said, with a 
 wave of her plump, jeweled hand: "portraits, 
 rugs, bric-a-brac, pictures. They brought them 
 all across the sea, expecting to make their home 
 here. But after she went " There was an- 
 other wave of the hand, a gesture more eloquent 
 than words. 
 
 "He couldn't bear the sight of them," Caroline 
 finished. 
 
 "Exactly. The house was locked for two years. 
 Then Alfred and I came over we were touring 
 America. I had lived here once, many years 
 ago. We liked this enchanting spot so much that 
 we lingered on." 
 
 "Is Mr. Feveral through college?" 
 
 "Oh, yes; he was graduated several years ago."
 
 MADAME'S VISIT 203 
 
 Caroline's democracy got the better of her 
 manners. 
 
 "Isn't he going to work now that he is 
 through?" An idle man was an abomination in 
 her sight. 
 
 "Dear, yes ; he is my secretary. He transacts 
 a great deal of business for me. I sometimes 
 think I keep him too busy for a young man just 
 through with college work. He should have had 
 a year to play." 
 
 "But he has traveled. That is such fun. How 
 I should love it. When I get my fortune " 
 
 She laughed at the old joke, and, though Ma- 
 dame did not join, her lips broke into a smile. 
 
 The friendship between the two families rip- 
 ened. After that first visit there were long rides 
 together. Madame's motors accomodated so 
 many: picnics in the canons, tea parties in the 
 sun room ; cozy chats before the upstairs sitting- 
 room fire. That, perhaps, was the greatest treat 
 to Caroline. She loved to dream over Charles 
 Feveral's portrait, muse on his hope and dis- 
 appointments. 
 
 Alfred came to see Mayre often, but not Mayre 
 alone. He never singled her out, but they had a 
 great deal in common. And Mayre blossomed 
 under his tutelage. Her drawings were bolder, 
 more original; her smile brighter. Sometimes 
 she sang (or tried to) as she dusted the drawing-
 
 204 THEN CAME CAROLINE 
 
 room or wiped the dishes for Maumy Kachel. 
 May re's singing was the joke of the family. Her 
 voice seemed to have a natural aversion to pitch, 
 and it took all sorts of liberties with keys; but 
 then Mayre was never like other people. 
 
 "You are off again," Caroline would laugh, 
 as she struggled with a topical song, and Mayre 
 would fling : 
 
 "I know the words that's more than you do." 
 On several occasions Caroline had convulsed her 
 sisters in church by applying her own methods 
 to the hymns ; words were a mere incident in the 
 singing. When she couldn't find the hymn book, 
 or a stranger monopolized it, she made them up. 
 
 It was after she had known Alfred Feveral a 
 month or more that Caroline said one night to 
 Mayre : 
 
 "I know now what it is I like about his eyes. 
 I used to wonder when he passed me on my way 
 to school. It's enthusiasm ! It leaped into them 
 when he stepped aside to give me the path; he 
 liked doing it it interested him. Enthusiasm ! 
 That's a wonderful possession. I believe it shows 
 in people's eyes first of all it opens them, takes 
 off the scales." 
 
 And Mayre, humming her crooked little tune, 
 smiled happily.
 
 CHAPTER XVI 
 
 ALISON RETURNS 
 
 IT was just a month before Christmas that 
 the wonderful news came. Mayre was so 
 excited, that she met Caroline at the corner 
 on her return from school. If Mayre hadn't been 
 a Kirtley, and so well-bred, she would have 
 shouted it, but she didn't. She waited until 
 Caroline caught step beside her ; then she turned. 
 
 "Guess what's happened," she said, her blue 
 eyes roused from their usual serenity. 
 
 "What, Mayre; tell me?" 
 
 "Guess!" 
 
 "Maumy Rachel's going back to Virginia?" 
 
 "No." 
 
 "Father's performed a big operation?" 
 
 "No." 
 
 "Mother's ill." 
 
 "Would I be looking so happy if Mother were 
 ill?" 
 
 "Oh, tell me. Tell me quickly! Is it some- 
 thing wonderful? Has the Waucaweta (the 
 Waucaweta was a mining claim that was some
 
 206 THEN CAME CAROLINE 
 
 day to outrival the great-aunt's fortune) struck 
 gold?" 
 
 "Alison's coming home! She will be here to- 
 morrow. She telegraphed from Chicago. Oh, 
 I can't wait to see her. I just simply can't!" 
 
 And although it was four o'clock in the after- 
 noon and the highway full of drivers and pedes- 
 trians, Caroline executed a cakewalk on the 
 sidewalk. 
 
 "Mayre! Oh, joy, joy! We will all be to- 
 gether again all of us " 
 
 For an instant a shadow crept across her 
 bright face and she looked away toward the east, 
 to Evergreen, where little Hope slept, but her 
 happiness was too keen to be overclouded. 
 
 "Leigh feels sure that she is coming home to 
 be married, and that we won't have her long. 
 But won't it be wonderful to see her? Do you 
 suppose she has changed much in three years? 
 Cousin Eliza always writes how beautiful she is. 
 I shall be so proud to introduce her to Alf (it 
 was Alf now) and the Madame. Alison always 
 was 'quality,' Maumy says, even when she was 
 a baby." 
 
 Caroline found the household in a flutter. 
 Maumy Rachel was up to her elbows in pie crust, 
 cookies and doughnuts. 
 
 "Lucky I got my fruit cake and plum puddin' 
 locked up and ready," she said, as she rolled
 
 ALISON RETURNS 207 
 
 and patted and trimmed. "Lucky fer y'all dat 
 I 'sisted on makin' extry ones, too. I haid a 
 hunch yes'm a hunch I gits 'em I had 
 one 'fore we come out hyre to this Gord-forsook 
 country. I done dream fer three nights 'bout 
 climbin' hills long steep hills, and every time 
 I git one foot up t'other would slip back. I knew 
 what that meant." 
 
 "What, Maumy?" Caroline was always in- 
 terested. 
 
 "Why, hit meant I was a-comin' out here to 
 these mountains, but dat I was gwine to leave 
 my heart and soul and and feet they's 
 always been planted in Virginny, at home. I 
 ain't never been here altogether I jes' brought 
 my haid and my ole eyes and my han's dat's 
 all de rest ob me is down in Dixie. I been 
 thinking to-day dat if y'all could git 'long with- 
 out me, I'd git Miss Alison to take me back " 
 
 "Oh, Maumy dear " 
 
 Caroline's tones were pleading. 
 
 "I know it ain't right, honey, but I'se gittin' 
 ole. I ain't sayin' I'se gwine, mebby Miss Alison 
 she don't want me, an' I ain't never gwine live 
 with Dorwin's wife. She's yalfer. But we'll 
 see. Don't you git to worryin'. Maumy ain't 
 gone yet." 
 
 "If you go, I'll go too, Maumy," Caroline said. 
 "It would not be home without you. I know
 
 208 THEN CAME CAROLINE 
 
 when I was little you didn't care about me much 
 I reckon I did keep you busy, but but I 
 loved you all the time, Maumy " 
 
 And Maumy, regardless of floured hands, 
 walked over to where Caroline was standing and 
 gave her a hug. 
 
 "You sure was a sassy young 5 un," she said 
 gravely, "but you've improved. I shouldn't be 
 'sprised if you turned out a Kirtley yit you've 
 got the makin's. Sometimes I kin see your 
 grandmaw in you, and sometimes yer Aunt Mary- 
 bel, and sometimes yer Uncle Gilbert, yer maw's 
 brother but most the time I see What you 
 reckon, Missy?" 
 
 "I don't know, Maumy." 
 
 "Yer paw. And that's a compl'ment fer you. 
 An' I don't know but that I'd almos' as soon 
 see you a Ravenel as a Kirtley if you was 
 like him, chile. I ain't never seen his match on 
 this yere earth. He's plum too good fer this hard 
 ole worl'." 
 
 "I think that too sometimes, Maumy," Caro- 
 line whispered, and left the kitchen with swim- 
 ming eyes. 
 
 They expected to find Alison changed, of 
 course, but they were not prepared to greet the 
 very elegant young person who stepped from the 
 train and gazed about as if the surroundings 
 were totally strange. A neat colored maid,
 
 ALISON RETURNS 209 
 
 carrying parcels and wraps, stood just behind 
 her. 
 
 "Mother darling and Father and oh, girls, 
 how lovely to see you !" was her greeting, but it 
 was given in such low, correct tones, with such 
 a polite handshake, that Caroline stood amazed. 
 
 "Why don't you fling your arms around us and 
 hug us?" she asked, eyeing the stylish tailored 
 suit her sister was wearing, the smart hat and 
 gloves. 
 
 "Wait until I get you home, you dears," Alison 
 said. "I dislike public exhibitions so vulgar. 
 Mother, you are not looking well. Have you been 
 ill? And Leigh dear, you are tired." 
 
 Her appraising eyes had swept them all ; each 
 had been catalogued: Caroline was amazingly 
 good looking; Mayre old-maidish and prim; her 
 father in better health. 
 
 "Oh, Abbie," she said, turning to the maid, 
 "this is my family." Abbie bobbed her head and 
 showed her gleaming teeth in a smile. 
 
 "Abbie has been my maid ever since we went 
 abroad, and Cousin Eliza simply would not per- 
 mit me to come home without her; she " 
 
 "Your maid !" Caroline's tone rose above the 
 rumble of the on-moving train. 
 
 "Yes, dear not so loud." Alison laid a finger 
 on her lips with a warning "Ssh." "I was going 
 to say that Abbie will be very useful to us all."
 
 210 THEN CAME CAROLINE 
 
 Mayre had expected that Alison would come 
 back into the old room where they had held so 
 many pleasant conferences, but Alison was of 
 a different mind. 
 
 "Would you object to my having the guest 
 room while I am at home, Mother dear?" she 
 asked. "I have been so used to spreading out, 
 and I have so many trunks I will explain about 
 them later Abbie could have the little room 
 across the hall, perhaps. I am so accustomed to 
 having her near." 
 
 Mrs. Ravenel quickly consented. It was 
 Doctor Ravenel who watched his second daughter 
 with clouded eyes. He had said very little, ex- 
 cept to inquire for her health. 
 
 Directly after lunch, Alison went to her room ; 
 Caroline, as of old, trotted after her. 
 
 "I am going to watch you unpack," she said, 
 "I am dying to see your pretty things." 
 
 "Abbie will unpack, dear," was the inhospitable 
 answer. "Come up a little later. I am very 
 tired. I should like to rest for an hour or two. 
 We shall have so many visits. I shall be here 
 until after Christmas, you know." 
 
 "But I want to see Tevis McElroy's picture. 
 Couldn't you just show me that?" 
 
 "After while, darling please." 
 
 Caroline turned, feeling ten rather than six- 
 teen. She wandered back to the drawing-room
 
 ALISON RETURNS 211 
 
 where her mother sat before the fire. There was 
 a pleased smile on Mrs. RavenePs serene face. 
 
 "Mother," she began, pulling a hassock to her 
 feet,"do you remember the day we first came into 
 this house and you said something about people 
 being refined re-fined? , I wanted to know 
 what the word meant." 
 
 "Yes, dear." 
 
 "I know now." 
 
 Mrs. Ravenel turned expectantly. 
 
 "It means Alison." 
 
 "That's a very pretty compliment, darling." 
 
 "I didn't mean it that way. I I hate it. 
 She's all covered up with polish. I would like 
 to stick a pin in her and see if she's real if it 
 would bring blood " 
 
 "Caroline !" 
 
 "Oh, Mother, if that's what finishing means, 
 being re-fined, so that you just shake hands with 
 your own folks at the depot after you have been 
 away three years for fear somebody will think 
 you vulgar I want to be common !" 
 
 "But she was very affectionate when we 
 reacted home, dear. And you must remember 
 that Alison was never demonstrative." 
 
 "I remember." 
 
 "I am delighted with her improvement. Her 
 manners are charming, quite correct." 
 
 "Made to order, yes run in a mold like forty-
 
 212 THEN CAME CAROLINE 
 
 'leven others. She's lost her individuality. She 
 makes me tired!" 
 
 Caroline rose, gave the hassock a shove and 
 went into the office. 
 
 Her father was sitting by the west window, 
 looking at the mountains. Caroline sniffed the 
 odor of his lighted cigar. 
 
 "I am glad you are smoking, Major," she said. 
 "It always mellows you. May I talk?" 
 
 With courtesy inborn, Doctor Ravenel rose 
 and pulled up a chair for his daughter. 
 
 "Oh, Major," she sighed, sinking into it, "why 
 can't people be polite like you are without 
 being polished." 
 
 "What's the matter, honey?" 
 
 "Are you pleased with Alison, Major?" 
 
 Doctor Ravenel puffed for a few minutes in 
 silence. Caroline seemed preoccupied, but oc- 
 casionally she reached for, and caught on a 
 slender brown finger the rings of smoke that left 
 his lips. Years of practice had made her an 
 adept. 
 
 Neither spoke. The Major's eyes were inscru- 
 table. 
 
 "Let's give Alison a chance, honey," he re- 
 marked finally. And Caroline knew that the 
 conversation was closed, so far as her sister was 
 concerned. 
 
 Caroline's conscience smote her a little when
 
 ALISON RETURNS 213 
 
 Alison came down to tea, lovely and fragrant in 
 a correct afternoon gown. The photograph in 
 a silver frame which she carried in her hand 
 was deposited in Caroline's lap. 
 
 "Here, dear, is your new brother-in-law," she 
 said. "I hope that you will love him as much 
 as he expects to love you. Tell me how you like 
 him." 
 
 Caroline studied the face closely. Abbie had 
 followed Alison with her hands full of packages; 
 there was ample time to consider the face while 
 gifts were distributed. 
 
 Alison's perfect taste had, as usual, manifested 
 itself. There was a gold thimble for her mother, 
 which would have been most acceptable if she 
 had not already owned two; a dozen fine, hand- 
 initialed handkerchiefs for Leigh ; a small, well- 
 executed water-color for Mayre; and for Caro- 
 line 
 
 Caroline almost held her breath when Alison 
 put the small jewel case in her hand, saying to 
 her: 
 
 "This is from Cousin Eliza. I told her one 
 day about your having given your pearl ring to 
 a little sick girl, and she insisted that you must 
 have this. It is one Uncle Finley gave her soon 
 after they were married. It was so generous of 
 her to send it." 
 
 Caroline pressed the spring in the crimson
 
 214 THEN CAME CAROLINE 
 
 velvet case and gave an ecstatic "Oh!" The 
 family crowded close. 
 
 "How exquisite," Mrs. Ravenel said, peering 
 through her lorgnette. 
 
 Caroline slipped the ring on her finger. It 
 was elegant without being pretentious : a central 
 pearl, surrounded by a row of smaller ones, the 
 whole bordered with a thin line of black enamel. 
 
 Caroline did not speak for a moment; if she 
 had lifted her softly darkening eyes, the family 
 might have seen tears. 
 
 "It was wonderful of her," she said, when she 
 could find voice. 
 
 "And are you not going to look at my engage- 
 ment ring?" Alison asked. "It is worth seeing." 
 
 She held out a slender white hand. A large 
 golitaire glistened on her third finger. There 
 were more exclamations. Even Doctor Ravenel 
 fished for his glasses and had a look. 
 
 Then the photograph was passed around for 
 inspection. May re and her mother praised the 
 new son-in-law-to-be. "He was fine-looking, alert, 
 and he showed race," they thought. 
 
 Caroline said nothing. 
 
 "What do you think, honey?" Alison asked. 
 
 "I don't know. You can't tell from a picture. 
 I would rather look in his eyes and shake hands 
 before I judge. By the way, I forgot to tell you 
 that I invited the neighbors in to welcome Alison
 
 ALISON RETURNS 215 
 
 home. Mrs. Ludlow and Blair, the Madame and 
 Alf I see them coming now. Oh, Mother, don't 
 worry; Maumy knows, she's making tea-cakes, 
 and I told her to cut a wee bit of fruit cake and 
 open some of her raspberry shrub. You don't 
 mind, do you? This is an occasion." 
 
 "Abbie, you may help Maumy serve," Alison 
 said, and the girl went toward the kitchen obedi- 
 ently. 
 
 It was a pleasant half-hour that followed. 
 Madame Wakefield seemed duly impressed with 
 Alison's "finish," and Mrs. Ludlow raved in her 
 whole-hearted way about her general improve- 
 ment. "She had grown so changed was 
 really handsomer had so much poise. It was 
 a shame Jimmy wasn't at home to extend his con- 
 gratulations." 
 
 Alison talked England to Madame and Alf 
 (she had spent three weeks in London, so she 
 knew all about it), becoming enthusiastic, that is, 
 as enthusiastic as good manners would permit 
 about Paris and Vienna. She even aired a knowl- 
 edge of pictures. That brought her to the re- 
 mark : 
 
 "And by the way, I had a queer notion one 
 night at a party that I saw Great-aunt Caroline. 
 Cousin Eliza had some delightful friends who 
 were entertaining us at dinner, with a dance 
 after. This old lady, looking like a dowager
 
 216 THEN CAME CAROLINE 
 
 empress, strolled in, attended by two servants. 
 She was very gouty or something, I forgot 
 what they said, but at any rate she positively 
 looked Kirtley ! She was short, round and stout, 
 with large blue eyes dancing with mischief " 
 
 "I beg your pardon, Madame Wakefield, I 
 presume Caroline has introduced you to our il- 
 lustrious ancestor Mrs. Ludlow knows her." 
 Alison stopped in the narrative and glanced at 
 the portrait in the hall. 
 
 "As I was saying please pardon the family 
 history her eyes danced with fun and spirit. 
 And she was literally loaded with jewels: my 
 pearls the pearls are to descend to me, Madame 
 Wakefield hung in a rope about her short, thick 
 neck ; oh, really absurd, I assure you. Her fat, 
 purplish hands were crowded with rings: dia- 
 monds, emeralds, turquoise yes, really the 
 most execrable taste! I remember Lord Algie 
 Townsend, who was sitting next to me, said that 
 she always wore everything but the kitchen range 
 and her dress " 
 
 Alison paused for breath, and Maumy Rachel 
 beckoned to Caroline. 
 
 In the hall the negro's voice fell to a fright- 
 ened whisper. 
 
 "Fer the love of Gord, Missy, git Miss Alison 
 to quit that clatter. That ole lady what-y'-may- 
 call-'er's gwine have a fit in a minute. She
 
 ALISON RETURNS 217 
 
 gwine throw hit right here in the drawin'-room. 
 She's as purple as a gobbler's wattles when he's 
 gittin' ready to fight. Lord sake's she's English ! 
 honey, English ! Miss Alison she done stock up 
 on manners down in Richmon', but she's pow'ful 
 low on common sense." 
 
 Caroline went back. Alison still talked : 
 
 "Her dress really was the funniest of all. A 
 dreadful shade of green, with spangles on it, 
 beads or something. Over her huge form it made 
 one think of the ocean rippling spreading 
 It overflowed her chair, billowed." 
 
 "Alison, will you come to the telephone, 
 please?" Caroline ventured. 
 
 "In a moment, dear." 
 
 "And her tiny little feet. Oh, I must really 
 tell you about her feet. Kirtley feet, Mother, 
 with ridiculous, high-arched insteps so tiny 
 that when she walked she limped painfully. They 
 weren't large enough to hold her up they 
 twinkled under the green skirt like " 
 
 Caroline glanced at Madame Wakefield. 
 
 "Pardon me, Alison," she said politely, "but 
 I think perhaps Mr. Aurendel would like to know 
 something about Barbara " 
 
 Alison made her excuses prettily. They had 
 reached the telephone when Caroline said: 
 
 "I wanted to get you out of there. You are 
 hurting Madame Wakefield's feelings. She is
 
 218 THEN CAME CAROLINE 
 
 English. She thinks you are making fun of her 
 country women ; do stop, please !" 
 
 Alison's mask dropped for a minute. 
 
 "Why, the silly old creature," she said irrit- 
 ably. "How utterly absurd " 
 
 But she went back and spent a half-hour prais- 
 ing English gardens, English country homes and 
 English hospitality. Madame Wakefield recov- 
 ered from her former mood. Her eyes became 
 merry. In the hall, as she was leaving, she 
 stopped for a moment before Aunt Caroline and 
 smiled up at her. 
 
 "So you think she's old and fat and wheezy, 
 do you, Miss Alison? Well, well, I dare say she 
 is. Asthmatic, no doubt but not dowdy, as 
 you Americans say. Never that." 
 
 "Never," Caroline whispered. 
 
 Madame turned, and taking Caroline's small 
 hand in her own, squeezed it warmly. 
 
 "And I can't see those blue eyes daring a green 
 frock, eh, Caroline " 
 
 "Oh, no, Madame." 
 
 "Nor ropes of pearls, rings and miscellaneous 
 jewels " 
 
 For some reason Alison grew pink to the tips 
 of her shell-like ears, and Maumy gathering up 
 the cups in the drawing-room, leaned sidewise 
 to catch the old lady's words, not alone her 
 words, but her untranslatable expression.
 
 CHAPTER XVII 
 MAUMY HAS A SECRET 
 
 THE more Caroline saw of Madame Wake- 
 field, the better she liked her. And her 
 feeling seemed to be reciprocated, for 
 she was often invited to The Lodge; not only to 
 The Lodge, but to drive in the elegant closed 
 car that defied winter winds; to tea parties in 
 the cheerful sun room; best of all, to see an 
 occasional play or a light opera. 
 
 That was the greatest joy of all, those evenings 
 in Madame's stall. To be sure she sometimes 
 felt conspicuous, for Madame always insisted 
 upon sitting back (she loved to watch the chang- 
 ing emotions in her young guest's face), content 
 to view the stage from an obscure corner. 
 
 Maumy Rachel also liked Madame Wakefield. 
 Negroes are intuitive. They are not always able 
 to account for their tastes, but they are seldom 
 mistaken or imposed upon. 
 
 "What is it you like about her, Maumy?" Caro- 
 line asked one Saturday morning, when she was 
 helping in the kitchen.
 
 220 THEN CAME CAROLINE 
 
 "Oh, I dunno, Missy ; I jes' nat'ally admire her 
 ways. She ain't no English-born and riz ! No, 
 ma'am! I got a hunch she was brought up in 
 Dixie. Sometime y'all notice how she talks 
 sof and low and full, with pretty little tricks to 
 her words, and the other day she say to me when 
 I passes de beaten biscuit, 'Maumy,' she says, 
 'I ain't et uch biscuits as these since I was a 
 little girl/ an' I spoke up quick an says : 'Beckon 
 you must have lived down South den, Miz Wake- 
 field' 
 
 "You should have said Madame " 
 
 " 'I reckon you must know something 'bout 
 Dixie ef you like beaten biscuit and corn pone.' " 
 
 "And What did she say?" 
 
 "She never said nothin', but her red cheeks got 
 redder, an' her hand shook consi'ble when she 
 swaller her tea. Sometimes I got a feelin', " 
 
 "What, Maumy?" 
 
 "Hungh?" 
 
 "What kind of a feeling?" 
 
 Maumy's lips became a straight line. 
 
 "Nothin' I'se gwine tell, honey. Nothin' I'se 
 gwine tell !" 
 
 "Why not?" Caroline begged. 
 
 But no amount of coaxing could dislodge the 
 "feelin'." 
 
 Early November found the family busy with 
 plans for Alison's wedding. The date had been
 
 MAUMY HAS A SECRET 221 
 
 set for early January, and, although the greater 
 part of the trousseau had come in the large 
 trunks from Richmond, there were the innumer- 
 able odds and ends that wear the nerves of a 
 household at such a time. 
 
 Leigh became a little whiter, a little thinner. 
 Often she walked with such effort that Caroline 
 threw an anxious arm about her and helped her 
 climb the stairs. Her eyes held starry visions, 
 and sometimes, as they gazed on Alison, they 
 filled with tears. 
 
 One night after the others had retired, Caro- 
 line crossed the hall in slippers and kimono and 
 perched herself on Leigh's cozy couch. 
 
 "I want to talk to you, Sister," she said, "and 
 I don't want you to get angry, will you?" 
 
 "Why should I be angry, darling?" 
 
 "Because I am going to be terribly personal 
 and say things that will shock you. First of all, 
 I am going to ask you something right straight 
 out. Do you love Blair and does he love 
 you?" 
 
 Leigh caught her breath quickly. She tried 
 to laugh. 
 
 "Absurd child," she said and patted Caroline's 
 brown head. 
 
 "Tell me. I want to know." 
 
 "Well, dear, if I were stronger and Mother 
 didn't need me so, I might yes I might think
 
 222 THEN CAME CAROLINE 
 
 of him in that way. We are so congenial. We 
 like so many of the same things " 
 
 "I knew it. Leigh, now I am going to shock 
 you don't jump, or scold until I finish. Moth- 
 er's got to wake up and I've got to do the wak- 
 ing." 
 
 "Caroline !" The word came with a gasp. The 
 thought was blasphemous. 
 
 "She's been asleep ever since you were born. 
 Maumy took care of you until you were old 
 enough to take care of the rest of us. Mother 
 well Mother, bless her she doesn't realize, 
 just handed over her responsibilities. I didn't un- 
 derstand when I was little. It's only lately that 
 I've begun to think about it figure it all out. 
 Mother's got to be jarred " 
 
 "Caroline, I forbid you to say another word." 
 
 "You can't. It is too late. I've said it, haven't 
 I? When this wedding is over, I am going to 
 talk with her " 
 
 "Go to bed, dear. It is very late and I must 
 be up early in the morning." 
 
 "Some morning you won't be able to get up, 
 Sister." 
 
 "Nonsense." 
 
 "It is true. You are getting thinner and 
 thinner." 
 
 "Good night, darling." 
 
 "Oh, I am going; you needn't push me. You
 
 MAUMY HAS A SECRET 223 
 
 know what they used to say when I was little: 
 if I once got an idea in my head " 
 
 "Get it out, Caroline." 
 
 "I will don't worry ! Sweet dreams." She 
 reached down (Leigh had dropped on the couch) 
 and took the wan face between her cool brown 
 hands. "I love you, dear. If I should live to be 
 a million I couldn't pay you " 
 
 But Leigh had buried her face in the soft 
 cushion and was weeping softly. 
 
 Caroline tiptoed out. "I am glad she's taking 
 time to cry," she mumbled, when she had closed 
 her own door. "It will do her good. Dear, dear 
 Leigh. What would we do without her?" 
 
 She sat at her window, staring into the night 
 for some time. "I suppose I am presumptuous," 
 she thought, "to try to tell Mother but Leigh 
 must have her happiness. I could help Father, 
 if only Mother would manage the house, see to 
 the buying and the servants. But I can't do it 
 all, not with my lessons. Mayre isn't much good 
 with her drawing and her daydreams, though she 
 dusts beautifully. Maumy is giving out she's 
 old she ought not to work so hard at her age." 
 
 Difficulties did seem to be multiplying. 
 
 "Don't you really think we should have an 
 extra maid during these busy days, Mother?" 
 Alison asked one morning. 
 
 "Yes, we should, dear, but Leigh tells me that
 
 224 THEN CAME CAROLINE 
 
 collections are very slow. I don't know why, 
 but people always pay their physicians after 
 everything else has been settled, the butcher, 
 the baker, the candlestick maker." Her laugh 
 was mirthless. 
 
 "But for just a month, dear; you see, Cousin 
 Eliza has done so much there will be little ex- 
 pense, except for the wedding " 
 
 "Your father wishes you to have all that is 
 necessary. He spoke of it to me this morning." 
 
 "Then let us have another maid, Mother. I 
 need Abbie, with so much entertaining going on, 
 and besides, after all, she is really a lady's maid 
 not a second girl." 
 
 A few days later a young "western darky" was 
 installed. Maumy's face hardened. 
 
 "I don't 'prove of these here western sisters of 
 mine," she complained to Caroline. "They's too 
 uppidy; they don't know their place." 
 
 Caroline had ample time to study her beautiful 
 elder sister during those fleeting, care-filled days, 
 often marvelling at her ease and light-hearted- 
 ness. 
 
 Alison always breakfasted in bed. Abbie took 
 up a cup of coffee and a roll at eight o'clock. She 
 called it a Continental breakfast. At eleven there 
 was usually something more: a poached egg on 
 toast, or a couple of Maumy's wonderful flannel 
 cakes with maple syrup. Alison never ate lunch ;
 
 MAUMY HAS A SECRET 225 
 
 she dieted between twelve and tea-time. Some- 
 times, when she was invited out, as she was often 
 at present, she broke this rule, but never at home. 
 
 At noon she rose and read the latest novel 
 while Abbie polished her nails or curled her hair. 
 Sometimes in the afternoon, between teas and 
 dinners, she whipped lace on dainty lingerie or 
 initialed linen, which she had learned to do 
 beautifully, or wrote long letters to Tevis Mc- 
 Elroy. Three years of luxury had made a sybar- 
 ite of her. 
 
 Occasionally she ran an anxious finger across 
 Leigh's troubled forehead. 
 
 "You mustn't frown so, darling," she would 
 say, her fragrant, rosy finger deep in the tell- 
 tale line, "it makes you old and unattractive. 
 You really should rub cold cream on your face. 
 Take a half-hour for it and see what a difference 
 it makes. I will send Abbie down some night." 
 
 But Abbie never came; her hours were filled to 
 overflowing. 
 
 "Alison doesn't belong to our family any 
 more," Caroline thought, noting varied exhi- 
 bitions of selfishness. "She's like like an 
 orchid set in a bouquet of violets. She over- 
 tops up. But I like violets better they are 
 sweeter." 
 
 Sometimes she spoke to Leigh about it, but 
 Leigh always said :
 
 226 THEN CAME CAROLINE 
 
 "It is so easy to become spoiled, dear, and I 
 dare say we would, too, if we were beautiful and 
 petted; besides, we must remember that Cousin 
 Eliza lost her only child and has showered affec- 
 tion upon Alison. We must not be too critical." 
 
 That was like Leigh; always excusing, cover- 
 ing up, hiding faults and, if possible, discovering 
 virtues. 
 
 Christmas passed in a hazy blur. If it had not 
 been for Madame Wakefield's kindness, it is 
 doubtful whether the day would have been ob- 
 served at all. She invited the family for dinner. 
 Even Maumy Rachel and Abbie were included, 
 a special table having been provided in a corner 
 of the spacious kitchen. There were gifts for all 
 unpretentious things that carried no obliga- 
 tion and later in the evening there was the 
 usual Christmas supper before Doctor RavenePs 
 wide hearth, where Madame, Alfred, and Blair 
 gathered with the family. Maumy fairly outdid 
 herself on her creamy chocolate and baked Vir- 
 ginia ham. 
 
 "I am beginning to feel as if Madame were 
 almost a relative," Caroline said to Maumy, as 
 she buttered sandwiches and cut cake. 
 
 Maumy turned her face to hide a smile. 
 
 "Why do you laugh, Maumy?" 
 
 "Can't a pusson smile, honey, if they wants 
 to?"
 
 MAUMY HAS A SECRET 227 
 
 "I don't see anything to laugh at in that re- 
 mark." 
 
 "You don't know all dat's gwine 'on down in 
 the bottom of my mine, lammie, that's all. My 
 ole gray matter, hits on de rampage lately; hits 
 ben recomemberin, and 'vestigatin' an' " 
 
 She broke off, and then went on : 
 
 "I'se gettin' ole, Missy ole ! When you begin 
 livin' in the past, why, that's a sure sign sure 
 as death ! I been thinkin' a heap 'bout yer Great- 
 grandmaw Kirtley lately, and her fam'bly " 
 
 "Do you remember them all, Maumy?" 
 
 "Does I 'member 'em? For de Lawd sake! 
 Do you spose you'se ever gwine to ferget yer 
 Paw or yer Maw or Miss Leigh or little Miss 
 Hope? I wonder, now ! Kun 'long in with this 
 yere choc'late, an' don't tip the pitcher. Ef you 
 do, it's gwine spill and ruin yer frock. I done 
 fill it up full." 
 
 And Caroline went into the drawing-room, 
 wondering if Maumy really were in her dotage. 
 
 A few days after Christmas Alison brought an 
 open letter to Leigh. 
 
 "Cousin Eliza writes that she will be here the 
 day after New Year," she said. "I am wonder- 
 ing where we had best put her. Perhaps Mayre 
 would move over with Caroline until after the 
 wedding. Sophie could have a cot in Abbie's 
 room upstairs." Sophie was Cousin Eliza's maid.
 
 228 THEN CAME CAROLINE 
 
 "I think we can arrange it," Leigh answered, 
 and the line in her forehead deepened. 
 
 "Of course Tevis's family will go to the hotel. 
 I must speak with Father about engaging a 
 suite for them immediately." 
 
 The days following were so crowded that Leigh 
 and Caroline went to bed too weary to sleep. 
 Alison kept up a round of teas, dinners and 
 dances. The word had gone forth that she was 
 marrying into one of Richmond's wealthiest 
 families, and society paid homage. Mayre was 
 often included in the invitations, but she made 
 excuses when possible. 
 
 Mrs. Ravenel reveled in her daughter's popu- 
 larity. She spent hours in the guest room look- 
 ing over Alison's lovely things, handling rare 
 bits of lace and convent-embroidered linen, ex- 
 amining imported frocks, bewitching hats, wraps 
 and accessories. The brilliant future that 
 stretched ahead of her handsome daughter re- 
 paid her a thousandfold for the loneliness she 
 had endured in her long absence. 
 
 "It was a wonderful piece of good fortune 
 our sending Alison to Cousin Eliza," she said 
 one evening to her husband. 
 
 Doctor Ravenel did not reply at once. 
 
 "That remains to be seen," he remarked, after 
 the moment's silence. "I sincerely hope so." 
 
 "But, Doctor, her marrying into the McElroy
 
 MAUMY HAS A SECRET 229 
 
 family is a positive guarantee." Mrs. Bavenel 
 was often naive in her deductions. 
 
 "There is no guarantee in marriage, Emily, 
 except fidelity personal obligation the duty 
 of one individual toward the other. And with 
 so much money " 
 
 "Surely you do not object to the money?" 
 
 "Without it, I should feel greater safety in 
 her future." 
 
 Mrs. KaveneFs sigh was lost on her husband. 
 He was too deep in thought. 
 
 The arrival of Cousin Eliza was something of 
 an occasion in the family. Mayre's room had 
 been cleaned and refurnished with the best the 
 house afforded. After the day's routine, Leigh 
 had made the pretty, ruffled curtains that hung 
 at the windows, covered the sofa pillows, fresh- 
 ened table covers and bureau scarfs. The effect 
 was all that could be desired. 
 
 "We can give Cousin Eliza one thing that she 
 can't get at home," Mayre said, glancing through 
 the window. "That view of the Peak." 
 
 She stood for a moment looking out on the old 
 mountain. 
 
 Caroline had drawn a mental picture of Cousin 
 Eliza. She expected to see a queenly woman with 
 a beneficent face crowned by snow-white hair. 
 
 Her first view of the stranger relative quite 
 stunned her. Cousin Eliza was small; almost
 
 230 THEN CAME CAROLINE 
 
 wizened. Her thin little face was pitifully lined, 
 her blue eyes sad and wistful. Her black hair 
 (a very suspicious black) hardened features that 
 nature had intended to be kind. Caroline noticed 
 that at once. She had a positive genius for find- 
 ing discarded virtues. 
 
 But her voice, like the voices of all true 
 Southerners, was deep and rich; it was cordial, 
 too, with a most appealing sincerity. Caroline 
 felt it. 
 
 "And this is little Caroline," she said, and 
 kissed her, though they were still on the railway 
 platform, and the habit was not followed in the 
 best society. "And Leigh and Mayre. Emily 
 dear, and Doctor, I am so glad to see you all. 
 This is indeed a pleasure." 
 
 The day had scarcely passed before Cousin 
 Eliza was one of the family. She was extremely 
 adaptable: she loved the house, her room and 
 yes, she thought in time she would love the moun- 
 tains, but at present they terrified her, they were 
 so enormous. 
 
 "Many people feel that way at first," Caroline 
 explained, "but when you get up into the heart 
 of them and see how friendly they are now gen- 
 erous with their flowers and canons and water- 
 falls ; when you see the Peak at sunset, with his 
 rainbow shawl over his shoulders " 
 
 "Why, the child's a poet," Cousin Eliza said,
 
 MAUMY HAS A SECRET 231 
 
 and gave her another kiss. Caroline returned it 
 warmly. 
 
 That evening, ,when the family were lingering 
 over tea, Caroline beckoned to Cousin Eliza: 
 
 "Come up in my tower room," she whispered 
 softly. "Please. I want to show him to you 
 in all his glory the Peak." 
 
 Cousin Eliza curled up on the cushioned seat 
 much as a child would have done. There is an 
 advantage in being small, after all. 
 
 Caroline drew up the old desk chair. 
 
 "In just a moment," she said ; "the fairies are 
 bringing out his robes. I want you to see him 
 at his best, because w r ell because he is all 
 we have to give you." 
 
 Cousin Eliza's blue eyes filled and overflowed. 
 
 When the brilliant sunset colors had faded, 
 Caroline's whisper broke the silence : 
 
 "Now you are going to see him at his prayers, 
 Cousin Eliza. Look at his halo that's the after- 
 glow. How transparent the tints are this even- 
 ing, the lavenders, blues and rose. This is hush 
 time when everything stops." 
 
 Caroline stopped also and turned away her 
 head. Hush time brought poignant memories, 
 though she still loved it.
 
 CHAPTER XVIII 
 
 A] iWEDDING 
 
 THE wedding was to occur on Saturday 
 evening at eight o'clock. Tevis McEl- 
 roy and his family arrived at noon on 
 Thursday. 
 
 "Tevis has never ueen West," Alison said to 
 Blair. "I hope that you will be good enough to 
 show him something of the country. We shall 
 be very busy these last few days." 
 
 Blair graciously accepted the responsibility, 
 and Mrs. Ludlow, always generous, offered her 
 horses and motors. 
 
 Caroline, much to her amazement, was asked 
 to accompany Alison to the train. 
 
 Her first glimpse of her new brother-in-law 
 was disappointing. He was much smaller than 
 his photograph led one to believe, and he lacked 
 the alertness that Mayre and her mother had com- 
 mented upon. However, after she had shaken 
 hands with him and looked into his pleasant gray 
 eyes she felt reassured. Looks mattered very 
 little if one had personality, and this Tevis Mc- 
 Elroy had.
 
 A WEDDING 233 
 
 And she liked his father (Caroline had decided 
 likes and dislikes, and was seldom mistaken ) and 
 Alice, a fair, wide-awake girl of nineteen, alive 
 with enthusiasm. Of the mother she was not so 
 sure. She seemed rather haughty and over- 
 powering. 
 
 "We are going to take you to the hotel now 
 and let you rest for a few hours (it was then 
 noon) and at four o'clock we shall come for you," 
 Alison said, after she had greeted the family and 
 shaken hands with Tevis. There was not the 
 slightest demonstration between them. Alison 
 might have been greeting Jimmy or Blair, even 
 Punny Matthews, except that her face flushed 
 to a delicate pink, and her eyes (at first Caroline 
 thought they warmed, but she afterward doubted 
 it) reflected pride. 
 
 Later in the day she had Tevis to herself for 
 fifteen or twenty minutes. She was rather in- 
 terested in his conversation, which was exceed- 
 ingly complimentary, a little too complimentary, 
 she thought, on such short acquaintance, but still 
 he was soon to be one of the family and she 
 forgave him. It was rather nice, after all, to be 
 told that one was happy to come into such a 
 delightful family, to contemplate a friendship 
 with so attractive a "little sister." 
 
 But there was little time for conversation. The 
 house seemed very noisy and upset ; the doorbell
 
 234 THEN CAME CAROLINE 
 
 rang constantly. Abbie, Sophie and the new 
 maid fluttered about, bringing in parcels, carry- 
 ing packages upstairs, admitting visitors. 
 
 "Seem lak Bed'lum done let loose here," 
 Maumy complained. "Lord save me from any 
 more of these big blo'outs! I'se plum tuckered 
 out." 
 
 "Go to bed, and I will clean up the kitchen," 
 Caroline begged. 
 
 "Go to bed to bed ! With all them folks a- 
 comin' to dinner to-night. Miss Caroline, you 
 done talk crazy !" 
 
 "I reckon I do ; I feel sort of loony," Caroline 
 admitted and went to silence the clamoring tele- 
 phone. 
 
 Friday was no better, except that the excite- 
 ment lifted the household above worn nerves. 
 The presents were arriving. Abbie stood at the 
 front door and gathered them in: express pack- 
 ages, flowers, china and silver even furniture. 
 Such an arrayf 
 
 Caroline offered to move to the tower and clear 
 her bedroom for the wedding gifts. Mayre ar- 
 ranged the tables and put out the presents. 
 
 Maumy shook her head as she viewed them. 
 
 "Somepin wrong with this here ole worP," she 
 grumbled. "Miss Alison, she's marryin' into a 
 family dat's already got more'n it knows what to 
 'do with, then along comes all this stuff. But I
 
 A WEDDING 235 
 
 reckon Lit all evens up in the end. De poor man 
 he gits his ice in the winter an' the rich man in 
 the summer Good Lord, here comes some more, 
 honey." 
 
 "I will call Alison," Mayre said. "She likes 
 to see them first." 
 
 "This here package was brung by a messenger 
 boy," Abbie said. "He told me to put it into 
 Miss Alison's own hands." 
 
 "And into my own it shall go, Abbie," Alison 
 answered, quietly entering the room. 
 
 There was a hushed silence while she un- 
 wrapped the parcel, broken only by Maumy's, 
 "De biggest gif s is always in de li'Pst package. 
 I specs it's somepin fine, Miss Alison !" 
 
 Alison opened the purple velvet box a very 
 worn box frayed a bit at the edges. She gave 
 a little gasp. 
 
 "Girls why why it's a strand of pearls. 
 Pearls ! The thing I have always coveted. Tevis 
 must have sent it. There seems to be no card 
 with it." 
 
 She took the treasure from its ancient bed and 
 ran the beads through her hands. 
 
 "They are heirlooms, wherever they came 
 from," she said, laying them against her Cheek 
 in a caress. "Oh, the lovely things! Look at 
 them, Maumy. Did you ever see anything so 
 beautiful?"
 
 236 THEN CAME CAROLINE 
 
 "You know what they mean, Miss Alison?" 
 the old servant asked. Her tone was ominous. 
 
 "No what do they mean?" 
 
 "Tears, honey." 
 
 "Oh, Maumy, how dreadful to tell her that," 
 Mayre cried. "Alison's going to have everything 
 in the world." 
 
 "Nobody has everything, Missy/' 
 
 "Well, money can buy most everything," Ali- 
 son flung impatiently. 
 
 "Money don't always buy happiness, lammie, 
 though old Maumy hopes hopes you have it 
 you have her prayers and her blessin'." 
 
 In after years Alison thought of the remark 
 when she wound the precious heirloom about her 
 lovely throat. 
 
 Tevis came in a few minutes later, and Alison, 
 with a flushed and happy face, began to thank 
 him. 
 
 "But I didn't send them," he insisted. "Really 
 I did not. Here is my gift, Alison." 
 
 He took from his pocket another velvet box. 
 Alison opened it eagerly. A unique diamond 
 ornament lay sparkling in the morning sun. 
 
 "Tevis! How dear of you! What is it?" 
 
 "Sort of a modernized tiara, I reckon," he said. 
 "You may name it." 
 
 Alison slipped down on the old Kirtley sofa, 
 and her face paled.
 
 A WEDDING 237 
 
 "Tevis," she said, "it frightens me a little 
 I feel as Maumy says spooky! All during 
 my childhood I wished for a pearl necklace and 
 a diamond tiara and now here " 
 
 "I told you the fairies attended your birth; 
 they heard no doubt." 
 
 And since they were alone in the drawing-room 
 and there was no one to see, Alison's fiance 
 stooped and gave her a kiss. 
 
 "But who did send the pearls?" Alison in- 
 quired a little later. 
 
 "Wasn't there a card?" 
 
 "No we saw none." 
 
 "Abbie must have dropped it." 
 
 "No she said a messenger brought the box 
 there was no card with it." 
 
 "Then you dropped it with the wrappings." 
 
 This seemed plausible, and a search was im- 
 mediately begun. 
 
 "Maumy took the papers down to the kitchen 
 to burn," Mayre said, after they had looked in 
 every nook and corner. "Perhaps the card was 
 among them." 
 
 Tevis hurried to the kitchen. Maumy was 
 putting the last scrap of paper in the range. 
 Every clew was lost. 
 
 "It makes me almost ill," Alison said, "and 
 after what Maumy told me about pearls " 
 
 "For goodness' sake," Caroline exclaimed,
 
 238 THEN CAME CAROLINE 
 
 "you aren't going to worry over Maumy's silly 
 superstitions, are you?" 
 
 "I suppose I am a little tired and nervous," 
 Alison admitted. "I think I shall rest for a 
 
 while. I mustn't look worn for my wedding 
 
 ?> 
 
 Immediately the household suggested a dark- 
 ened room and one of Abbie's fine massages. 
 
 Caroline was tired, too, but she found no time 
 to rest. 
 
 "I think, since you are the maid of honor, you 
 should also be lying down," Leigh thoughtfully 
 suggested. 
 
 There had been some discussion as to the 
 bridesmaids a church wedding at night meant 
 more or less display. Alison talked the matter 
 over in a businesslike way. 
 
 "Of course I must have Tevis's sister and at 
 least one of my own. It would scarcely be suit- 
 able to have Leigh " 
 
 Leigh's thin little form and noticeably curved 
 back rose before Mrs. RaveneFs tender eyes. 
 
 "No dear; Leigh would not consider it for 
 a moment." 
 
 "And Mayre is short; She wouldn't measure 
 up with Barbara or Alice. So I suppose it must 
 be Caroline. She will be lovely in a pale yellow 
 gown frilled to the waist. Fortunately she's a 
 Ravenel; they never have an ounce too much
 
 A WEDDING 239 
 
 flesh and can wear frills. I suppose we can de- 
 pend upon her. She seems more reliable " 
 
 "Caroline still has her own ideas " 
 
 "Yes, but she is dependable. That is, she 
 wouldn't disgrace us as of old." 
 
 "Caroline's good taste is scarcely to be ques- 
 tioned." 
 
 "How the child has changed! Tevis thinks 
 her quite a beauty, and Mayre certainly under- 
 stands dressing her. Yes; I think we shall de- 
 cide on Caroline as maid of honor." 
 
 If Caroline had known that she was selected 
 by elimination rather than by choice, she would 
 never have accepted the honor. As it was, she 
 felt complimented and happy. 
 
 The wedding day dawned cold and bright: 
 one of those clear Colorado days when the sun 
 shines in an open sky with belying warmth 
 Alison's own day analogous to her nature. 
 There was the same semblance of perfection, the 
 unsuspected chill. 
 
 Alison did not rise until late in the afternoon. 
 The family (even Mrs. Ravenel) had begun the 
 day a little after dawn. There was still much 
 to be done : the house straightened for the recep- 
 tion in the evening ; belated presents to arrange ; 
 forgotten errands, endless last-minute affairs 
 that take time and patience. 
 
 By four o'clock the house had resumed its
 
 240 THEN CAME CAROLINE 
 
 normal quiet. Alison's packing was done (the 
 honeymoon was to be spent in California) ; the 
 wedding gown laid out, the white satin slippers 
 and snowy veil beside it. 
 
 Caroline wandered about the house restlessly, 
 haunting the gift room to exclaim over new 
 wonders, then on to the drawing-room to dream 
 for a moment before the wood fire, then up to the 
 tower. Her small feet, still impudent and irre- 
 sistible, twinkled over the bare floors, the stairs, 
 Maumy's kitchen. 
 
 "You ought to be takin' some res' y'self, 
 honey," the old woman said. 
 
 "Best ! Maumy ! Who could rest on a day like 
 this? I am so excited I can't think." 
 
 "Ca'm y'self, lammie. You don't want to make 
 no blunders to-night. You got yo' part all 
 learnt? What you have to do?" 
 
 "Of course! The rehearsal went beautifully 
 last night. When the minister says, 'Who 
 
 giveth this woman to be married to this man ' 
 
 oh, no, that's Major's part. Mercy! Wouldn't 
 it be awful if I should step up there and begin 
 to take off Alison's glove " 
 
 "I'm tellin' you, honey! You got to be keer- 
 ful!" 
 
 "It is after Alison says I take thee M to be 
 my wedded husband " 
 
 "M? Who's M?" Maumy looked startled.
 
 A WEDDING 241 
 
 "That's what it says in the prayer book. She 
 says Tevis, of course. I'm just thinking how it 
 goes. Then Blair gives Tevis the ring, and I 
 take her flowers and slip off her glove " 
 
 Here the merry feet began an exhilarating 
 patter on the worn linoleum, and Maumy, rais- 
 ing her gingham apron, waved her from the 
 kitchen. 
 
 "Go 'long now," she called after her, "an' don't 
 you be thinkin' up no debiPment to perp-trate 
 on yer sister." 
 
 Of course there was no dinner. Who could 
 dine under such circumstances? Leigh carried 
 a tray into the office, and her father ate frugally 
 of chicken sandwiches and cold tongue. 
 
 "You must find time to rest, Leigh," he said, 
 shaking his head at her tired face. 
 
 "After to-night, Father. I shall stay in bed 
 to-morrow if Maumy can spare me." It was 
 always Maumy not Mother. 
 
 "I insist that you do. Let Caroline help 
 and May re." 
 
 "They have both been wonderful." 
 
 For two hours before the wedding Alison's 
 door was locked and guarded. 
 
 "Let no one come in, Sophie," she demanded, 
 for it had taken the services of both Sophie and 
 Abbie to dress the bride. "I must not get 
 nervous. My face is apt to look like a dairy-
 
 242 THEN CAME CAROLINE 
 
 maid's when I am excited. Too much color is 
 such an annoyance -r- and so plebeian." 
 
 But when the family did glimpse the stately 
 form in wedding garb, they stepped back and 
 drew ecstatic "Oh's" of satisfaction. 
 
 Alison was perfect from the crown of her filmy 
 veil, that her great-grandmother had worn, to 
 the soles of her exquisitely shod feet. 
 
 "Turn around," Caroline demanded. "I want 
 to see the train." 
 
 "We can't let the train down now, dear, and 
 don't come quite so closely, please. There you 
 can see better if you stand a little off. Mother 
 dear, I should like to kiss you, but Abbie has put 
 on the last bit of powder " 
 
 Caroline's small fists clinched behind her, 
 though she held her tongue valiantly. 
 
 "I think it's a shame Tevis can't see you; he 
 won't have half a chance in the church," she 
 said. 
 
 "Caroline! Tevis come here to the house! 
 How dreadful. Think what you are saying." 
 
 "Excruciating, isn't it, that the man who's 
 going to be your life partner in a half hour 
 should look at you first in your bridal . " 
 
 Leigh stopped the sentence with a gentle hand. 
 
 "How wonderful the pearls look," she said, 
 "and how dreadful we can't find out who sent 
 them."
 
 A WEDDING 243 
 
 "Perhaps I really shouldn't wear them " 
 
 "They might be loaded or something you 
 know rich people have so many enemies," the 
 maid of honor suggested. 
 
 Alison raised her hand to remove them, but 
 she thought better of it; they were very becom- 
 ing. 
 
 "Caroline, your imagination is a positive 
 curse," she declared, turning for a last glance in 
 the mirror. 
 
 The reflection must have satisfied her, for she 
 smiled : and it was a beautiful picture one long 
 to be remembered : a slender figure a little above 
 medium height in a white satin gown with a long 
 square train, her corsage draped with old point 
 lace. A veil, falling from the back of a charm- 
 ing coiffure, was draped in cap fashion over her 
 hair and held with two narrow bands of orange 
 blossoms across her forehead, the lace falling in 
 billows to the end of the long train. The dia- 
 mond ornament Tevis' gift followed the line 
 of orange blossoms, glittering and gleaming 
 above soft waves of hair. In her arms she held 
 her bouquet with its streamers of ribbon and 
 tulle, lilies of the valley and feathery] .white 
 orchids. 
 
 "I think you are the most beautiful bride I 
 ever saw, and I am going to kiss you whether 
 you like it or not," Caroline said, when she
 
 244 THEN CAME CAROLINE 
 
 came out of the spell Alison had cast upon them 
 all. 
 
 She leaned over and gave the caress heartily. 
 Abbie instantly covered the spot with powder. 
 
 "You are so demonstrative, darling," Alison 
 murmured, but she seemed pleased. The compli- 
 ment had not failed to reach her, though she dis- 
 liked demonstrations. 
 
 Caroline never could quite recall the church 
 as it looked that night. She had a hazy vision 
 of cathedral candles entwined with flowers and 
 ferns that formed an aisle for the bridal party ; 
 an altar abloom with white chrysanthemums and 
 lighted by many tapers in high, branching 
 candlesticks. 
 
 It was the low, enchanting music that went 
 with her down through the weeks and months 
 that followed ; the entrancing call of the wedding 
 march. She remembered lifting her feet slowly, 
 rhythmically, or she tried to lift them rhythm- 
 ically; the time was so peculiarly marked that 
 she felt she was dragging them. And She re- 
 called watching the procession; she had met 
 Blair at the chancel and turned so that the view 
 was sweeping, though she knew that it would 
 have been more maidenly to drop her eyes. 
 
 But the Major fascinated her. He was so tall 
 and soldierly in nis evening clothes. Alison 
 clung to his arm so confidently. Caroline thought
 
 A WEDDING 245 
 
 that her hand must have trembled, for once he 
 looked down at her oh, so tenderly it brought 
 the tears smarting to her own eyes and drew 
 Alison's arm a little closer within the bend of 
 his own. 
 
 And then, when she met Tevis, another look 
 had come into his eyes the Major's an ap- 
 pealing look that said, "Take care of her." 
 
 Caroline had liked the reassuring smile that 
 flashed for a moment from Tevis' gray eyes ; they 
 promised. 
 
 It was only Alison who seemed cold and hard 
 and bright triumphant. 
 
 And then Caroline missed the bridesmaids in 
 their charming frocks. She was miles away 
 delving back into her childhood her little-girl 
 days. 
 
 Something in Alison's expression brought a 
 wave of memories: a day in the tower room 
 those old letters. Why should she think of them 
 now? She had lived to laugh over them. She 
 could scarcely blame Alison, except for lack of 
 honor. 
 
 And then she caught sight of Leigh's pathetic, 
 strained little face in the family pew her eyes 
 glistening with tears. And her mother was lift- 
 ing her handkerchief. Why did people cry at a 
 wedding? 
 
 The procession moved to the inner rail. She
 
 246 THEN CAME CAROLINE 
 
 was lost again, the music was so seductive, so 
 dreamy. 
 
 She did not realize that she was stopping the 
 ceremony; she had looked away for a moment 
 to the beautiful azure window that memorialized 
 a dead-and-gone parishoner. She had never been 
 close enough before to read the inscription. She 
 bent a trifle closer. 
 
 It was the deathlike silence that cut into her 
 consciousness. The clergyman's sonorous voice 
 had stopped. 
 
 Blair nudged her. Alison was holding out 
 her flowers. As Caroline's fingers fumbled over 
 the stubborn white glove, she felt ashamed, 
 panicky, though Alison smiled bravely. 
 
 It was over at last the ring on the slender 
 finger. The minister went on, Tevis' low voice 
 repeating after him : 
 
 "With this ring I thee wed, and with all my 
 worldly goods I thee endow." 
 
 Caroline was paying attention now, watching 
 for the world-old thrill. 
 
 "For as much as Tevis and Alison have given 
 and pledged their troth, each to the other, and 
 have declared the same by giving and receiving 
 a ring, I pronounce that they are Man and 
 Wife." 
 
 The Joyful strains of the march, the pealing 
 church bells reassured 'her as she passed down
 
 A WEDDING 247 
 
 the aisle. Perhaps her momentary abstraction 
 had not been noticed. But Maumy's black look 
 as she passed her in a rear pew told the tale; 
 it had been. 
 
 She wanted to run away and hide her face, 
 but an audible whisper, breaking into enthusi- 
 astic tones at the entrance held her. 
 
 "Wasn't the maid of honor lovely?" a guest 
 was saying. "Really handsomer than the bride, 
 I thought; so much more to her face. And 
 wasn't it cunning the way she forgot to take 
 her sister's flowers? Weddings are so trying. 
 I've yet to see one that went off without a hitch 
 somewhere " 
 
 Caroline turned and from the ends of her 
 little brown fingers wafted a kiss toward Mrs. 
 Ludlow's crimsoning face.
 
 CHAPTER XIX 
 
 CHANGES 
 
 THE weeks following Allison's wedding 
 were long and harrassing to the family. 
 True to prediction, Leigh had a break- 
 down that lasted well into months. 
 
 It was the day after the wedding that she be- 
 came ill. She and Caroline were packing the 
 wedding gifts when suddenly she sank down on 
 a chair and covered her face with her hands. 
 "I shall have to leave this to you and Mayre, 
 darling," she said in a voice scarcely audible. 
 "Everything seems to be turning black " 
 
 She did not finish the sentence. Caroline caught 
 her in her strong young arms and carried her 
 across the hall to her own room. She revived 
 her w T ith methods she had watched Leigh apply 
 to others and tucked her in bed before calling 
 the family. It was amazing how Caroline's de- 
 termination had developed into efficiency. She 
 carried trouble with as high a hand as she had 
 mischief in the old days. 
 
 "Don't fuss, please," came Leigh's weak voice
 
 CHANGES 249 
 
 from the depths of snowy pillows. "I will be 
 all right in a few minutes " 
 
 "You will not be all right for months, Sister, 
 and you might as well make up your mind to it." 
 
 Doctor Eavenel came at Caroline's summons. 
 His face was anxious as he looked down on the 
 emaciated little form. 
 
 "We must have a nurse," he said. 
 
 "I shall take care of her," came Caroline's 
 quick response. 
 
 "But your school, dear " 
 
 "Mother can sit with her when I am away. 
 Please keep still and be good, Leigh ; don't make 
 it hard for us." 
 
 And sighing, Leigh turned her face to the wall. 
 
 Maumy Rachel was not well either; however, 
 she managed to get about slowly. Mayre helped 
 all she could, but though Mayre was willing, she 
 lacked system and judgment. 
 
 Cousin Eliza left the week following the wed- 
 ding, and with the exodus of the three maids, 
 the house resumed a normal atmosphere. 
 
 "Four servants in a house where you can 
 scarcely afford to keep one !" was Caroline's dis- 
 gusted comment. "I am glad they are gone, and 
 the Lord preserve me from ever having to de- 
 pend on them when I keep house! Just give 
 me one old darky Maumy and my two strong 
 arms " The sentence ended in a trilling
 
 250 THEN CAME CAROLINE 
 
 laugh. Caroline's spirits were never wholly 
 dampened, no matter how blue things looked. 
 
 The night before Cousin Eliza's departure she 
 was closeted for some time in Doctor Eavenel's 
 office. After a roundabout conversation she 
 came to the object of her visit. 
 
 "I want Caroline, Cousin Robert," she said, 
 and stopped. The doctor's quick, penetrating 
 look had cut the sentence. 
 
 "I am asking a great deal, but I would edu- 
 cate her as a child of her promise should be 
 educated. She is, of course, the flower of your 
 family intellectually. She will do wonderful 
 things if opportunity is given her." 
 
 Doctor Ravenel had looked away, Ms eyes 
 proud and tender. 
 
 "I would send her to the best college in the 
 country and finish her education in Europe do 
 all that I did for Alison and more " 
 
 Something in the face of Caroline's father 
 stopped her. 
 
 "I am providing for my daughter's education, 
 thank you, Cousin Eliza. She shall have college 
 training, but not under circumstances of which 
 you speak. The child has been endowed by na- 
 ture with a fine, wholesome democracy. I don't 
 know what money would do to it. Kill it prob- 
 ably at any rate take off the edge dwarf it. 
 With proper direction, Caroline will make this
 
 CHANGES 251 
 
 old world a little better for passing through. 
 Providence has been kind. I would be unworthy 
 of my trust if I defeated it " 
 
 "I would not spoil her, Cousin Robert. I 
 would put her on a limited allowance " 
 
 Doctor Ravenel's silvered head shook slowly. 
 
 "But don't you think Caroline ought to have 
 a say in the matter, be consulted * " 
 
 There was a moment's silence. 
 
 "Perhaps yes. But not at present." 
 
 "Think what it would mean to her, Cousin 
 Robert, all that I am able to do. And remem- 
 ber she is a Ravenel " 
 
 "Exactly." The word burst from his lips with 
 warmth ill-concealed. 
 
 "And the Ravenels are all brilliant. They 
 have minds " 
 
 "Few of them have been hampered with 
 money ; its lack is often an asset." 
 
 "I would not call the Ravenels poor," she re- 
 torted with pride. "They have never made 
 money." 
 
 "You infer that that they marry it?" A 
 smile played on her thin lips. 
 
 Doctor Ravenel put out his hand. 
 
 "Please do not think me unappreciative," he 
 said, with a smile that dispelled contention. 
 "When you speak of Caroline you touch a chord 
 that vibrates. I have great dreams for the
 
 252 THEN CAME CAROLINE 
 
 child. I must see her over tlie brink of youth, 
 on the safe side of womanhood." 
 
 Eliza Mott's hand met his slowly ; though she 
 responded to its pressure, she knew that she 
 could never hope to mould Caroline's future as 
 she had Alison's. At the portal of her character 
 the Major stood guard. 
 
 Leigh's illness lengthened into weeks. There 
 were days when she could not stand a footfall 
 across the room, the rattling of a paper, the 
 fluttering of the ruffled curtains at the window. 
 Her shattered, long-suffering nerves had given 
 away. 
 
 "Let me have Caroline ; she understands," she 
 would whisper, and Caroline would come in 
 softly and lay a cool hand on her forehead, 
 smoothing back the wavy hair ; or she would sit 
 quietly within call, longing to be of service. 
 
 How she found time to help Maumy, look over 
 her father's neglected books, answer the tele- 
 phone, to say nothing of keeping up with her 
 junior work in high-school, no one knew. In 
 Leigh's absence she had become the head of the 
 house. 
 
 "Beats all how that 'IT no-count chile have 
 become the corner-stone of the temple," Maumy 
 Rachel declared. " I 'clare for to goodness I 
 never thought she'd 'mount to nothin' !" 
 
 There came a day when Leigh sat up and
 
 CHANGES 253 
 
 noticed Blair's roses in the vase beside the bed. 
 
 "They have come every other morning, Sister," 
 Caroline said, and a warm flush stole into the 
 invalid's white cheeks. "Every other morning, 
 rain or shine! Mercy, it's worth being sick to 
 have such devotion !" And Leigh had murmured 
 something about Blair's being a dear. 
 
 "He's next to the nicest man I have ever 
 known," Caroline declared. 
 
 "And who is the nicest?" 
 
 "The Major, of course !" 
 
 There were other worries besides illness. It 
 had taken all Doctor Ravenel could collect to 
 settle the wedding expenses. 
 
 "Now that we have finally paid the florist 
 and the caterers and dressmakers and servants, 
 I must have a new school dress," Caroline 
 laughed. 
 
 "I am afraid Miss Younge will have to make 
 over some of the things Alison left, dear," Leigh 
 said. "The material is very fine, and they are 
 scarcely worn." 
 
 "All right," Caroline answered cheerfully, 
 "Nobody here knows them, and if they did, it 
 wouldn't matter. In a family where there are 
 four girls, somebody must wear the hand-me- 
 downs." 
 
 Perhaps -she would not have been so obliging 
 had not Mayre's skilful designs and Leigh's
 
 254 THEN CAME CAROLINE 
 
 equally clever brain revolutionized the discarded 
 things. Caroline wore them with an air. Her 
 companions little guessed at the maneuvering 
 that went on in the family. 
 
 "You feel just like you were visiting royalty 
 or something when you go to see the Ravenels," 
 Kathleen once said to her mother. "Mrs. Rave- 
 nel is always dressed up, with those darling 
 white lawn things around her throat and wrists, 
 and their table just shines with that old china 
 and silver " 
 
 "Yes, and Miss Leigh's broke her poor weak 
 back a-puttin' on all that style," Mrs. Briggs 
 retorted. "Mrs. Ravenel don't hurt herself 
 none. I could keep slicked up too if I never 
 went into the kitchen nor felt the heft of a broom 
 in my hand." 
 
 "That's so," Kathleen admitted. "But Caro- 
 line works a lot. She can hardly ever go any- 
 where any more." 
 
 But Mrs. Ravenel did assume some of the 
 duties during Leigh's illness. She and Caroline 
 had a long conference one night behind a closed 
 door. No one ever knew what passed between 
 them, but it was noticeable that when Caroline 
 left for school the next morning Mrs. Ravenel 
 visited the kitchen and gave orders for the day. 
 Maumy stood with arms akimbo and dropped 
 jaw as she listened.
 
 CHANGES 255 
 
 "Yes'm, yes'm, Miss Em'bly; yes'm, I under- 
 stands," was all she was able to say. 
 
 It was noticeable, too, that Caroline frequently 
 left for school with these words on her lips : 
 
 "I am leaving the ordering for you this morn- 
 ing, Mother darling. Please see that Maumy 
 gets the groceries by noon, and I have left full 
 directions for Leigh's medicines. If you are at 
 all puzzled, Major will help you;" or, "I did not 
 have time to get the laundry out last night; 
 please see that it is counted they are so care- 
 less at the Marvel." 
 
 Then she would be off, waving kisses until she 
 reached the corner. 
 
 There was little time for visiting. Occasion- 
 ally she managed to spend a half-hour with 
 Madame Wakefield, for the Madame was urgent 
 in her invitations. Once in a while, after Leigh 
 began to curl like a tired child on the old sofa 
 before the drawing-room fire, Alfred would come 
 over with a message 
 
 "Madame says that I am to mind Miss Leigh 
 for an hour while you drive with her, Caroline. 
 I say, you're it at The Lodge. I used to think 
 
 I had some show, but now I know jolly well " 
 
 A good-natured laugh left the unfinished sen- 
 tence to the imagination. Or, "Madame sent 
 over these magazines and books. She said I was 
 to pick out some interesting stuff and read to
 
 256 THEN CAME CAROLINE 
 
 your patient. She wants you to shop with her." 
 
 Those drives and tours were a delight. 
 Madame so well understood Caroline's pride. 
 She did not load her with useless gifts nor hum- 
 ble her by offering frocks, expensive frocks which 
 Caroline felt free to exclaim over in the shops. 
 Sometimes a box of flowers was sent back to 
 Leigh, or a new book; sometimes it was merely 
 a delicacy to tempt a whimsical appetite. But 
 the Madame never forgot ; she had her own ways 
 of paying for Caroline's society. 
 
 There was little time for writing during those 
 busy days. The tower had a forsaken air. The 
 desk was cluttered. Newspaper clippings piled 
 high ; the dust lay thick on manuscripts. 
 
 Sometimes, as of old, She took fifteen minutes 
 to watch the sunset, or scribble a line to The Peak 
 or Mayre's upspringing garden that was in 
 April but mostly her daily food was work. 
 
 In June she finished her school year with 
 credit, though not brilliantly. Caroline was too 
 versatile to shine ; too much of a dreamer to pin 
 herself to drudgery and routine. 
 
 "Her mind is too quick for depth," a young 
 teacher remarked to another. "Hers is a super- 
 ficial cleverness." 
 
 "Give the seeds you are planting time to grow," 
 the older woman replied thoughtfully. "The 
 road to success is long and winding; I have seen
 
 CHANGES 257 
 
 the most conscientious student fail to attain 
 what in time the quickened spirit reached 
 at a bound. Caroline will never be grooved, 
 steered in the ruts of others' making." 
 
 It was true. Caroline would always run 
 counter to conventions. To her, traditions were 
 tiresome treadmills; amenities but kindness. 
 When she looked over the mountains and said 
 that her way lay there, she spoke truly. It 
 wound through straits of rocky experience. 
 
 It was an afternoon early in May that Caro- 
 line opened her desk in the tower and spent 
 some time over an important letter. Now and 
 then she stopped to watch the robins building 
 their nests in the%*ees that flourished along the 
 ditch-boxes, or to glance down into the garden 
 where Mayre and Alfred Feveral patiently sewed 
 and weeded. 
 
 The letter was finished at last : only a part of 
 it need be recorded : 
 "Dear Cousin Eliza : 
 
 I have been thinking so much about your last 
 words to me at the station : 'If you ever want any- 
 thing come to me.' I am coming now, to ask you 
 something that will make me happier than any- 
 thing else in the whole world. I want you to 
 invite Leigh to come to you for a few months' 
 rest. You said that you would be glad to have 
 any of us at any time. Since the wedding she
 
 258 THEN CAME CAROLINE 
 
 has been very ill. For a while we almost de- 
 spaired of her life, but now she is up and around 
 looking so thin and little. The other day I 
 overheard the Major telling Mother that what 
 she needed most of all was a change of scene 
 and a lower altitude. I know that you would 
 be repaid a thousandfold in having her she is 
 such an inspiration. I do not like to ask Alison 
 to take her. She is so wrapped up in her new 
 home and friends. And may I trust you not to 
 mention that I have written. The invitation, 
 coming as a surprise, would mean so much." 
 
 Two weeks later Leigh was bidding her family 
 good-by with brightened eyes. 
 
 "She looks better already," ner mother said, 
 waving her fond adieus. "How kind Eliza is. 
 It was so splendid to think of dear Leigh." 
 
 And Caroline, winking back joyful tears, said 
 merely : 
 
 "Cousin Eliza has a soul. I felt it the first 
 time we watched a sunset. Now Mother, if you 
 will just keep the reins until vacation. You 
 manage things so wonderfully and you are look- 
 ing so well and beautiful. Major said this 
 morning your step was like a girl's." 
 
 The words might have sounded patronizing if 
 they had been given with less sincerity. At any 
 rate Mrs. Kavenel did not take offense. She 
 smiled into the speckled eyes that met her own.
 
 CHAPTER XX 
 
 CAROLINE GOES LARKING 
 
 IT was at noon one warm day in July that 
 Caroline, entering Mayre's room for a 
 book, found her sitting by the west window, 
 regardless of the streaming sun, bathed in tears. 
 
 "For goodness' sake, what has happened?" 
 Caroline asked, pausing in the door to make sure 
 that her eyes were not deceiving her. Mayre 
 was so seldom upset. Her poise was a family 
 pride. 
 
 "Close the door, and I will tell you. Oh Caro- 
 line, the most awful thing has happened. I 
 simply can't stand it I won't." 
 
 "What, do tell me what, Mayre." 
 
 "A little while ago the telephone rang. Maumy 
 said it was for me. Muriel Roach was calling. 
 She said that she was giving a fancy-dress dance 
 at the Country Club Saturday night for that 
 cousin she has here visiting from the East and 
 wanted to know if I would come. You know how 
 awfully hard it is to think of an excuse over the 
 telephone, so I said, 'Why, yes, I think I can/ and 
 tV en she said "
 
 260 THEN CAME CAROLINE 
 
 Mayre's head went down in her hands again. 
 
 "Then she said that she would have Punny 
 Matthews Punny Matthews call for me at 
 half-past eight." 
 
 "Punny ! 
 
 "Yes, Punny !" 
 
 "Why Punny?" 
 
 "Because no one else would go with him, I 
 suppose " 
 
 "And she made you the goat " Caro- 
 line's English sometimes lacked purity, for all 
 she was a Ravenel. 
 
 Yes just that." 
 
 "Well, cheer up ! I can imagine a good many 
 worse things than being a goat." 
 
 "But that isn't all " 
 
 "No?" 
 
 "She said she was asking Alf for herself. Alf, 
 who has never called on her, and whom she 
 scarcely knows. Imagine!" 
 
 "Oh, I see. Alf 's the secret sorrow not poor 
 Punny." 
 
 "No it's Punny. I simply refuse to go with 
 him. You know how the men trade their dances ; 
 the girls wouldn't dance with him. I would be 
 the most glorious wallflower that ever bloomed. 
 I am unpopular enough, as it is; now if it were 
 only you " 
 
 "But I am not out yet, darling. Mother would
 
 CAROLINE GOES LARKING 261 
 
 expect every dead-and-gone Kirtley in the War- 
 rensburg cemetery to rise from their graves if 
 I went to a party before my life's clock struck 
 eighteen." 
 
 "I know " 
 
 "But you say this is a fancy dress a masked 
 party?" 
 
 "Yes." 
 
 Caroline's starlit eyes suddenly became two 
 dusky orbs. 
 
 "Mayre would it be possible could I take 
 your place? I am taller, I know, but with low 
 heels and a long cloak. Our voices are exactly 
 alike. People always think I am you over the 
 telephone. I am sure we could not be told apart 
 masked." 
 
 Her tones had taken on a daring note that 
 lifted Mayre's sodden spirits. 
 
 "And not tell Mother and Father?" Mayre 
 qestioned, coming out of the depths. 
 
 "Major wouldn't care and Mother needn't 
 know for once. Oh, Mayre, let me. It's so larky ! 
 I would like to show Muriel Koach a thing or 
 two." A vision of Muriel's tucking a fine pocket 
 handkerchief in a taffeta gown passed before her 
 eyes, but she said nothing. It was rather a small 
 thing to remember, but somehow it had remained 
 through the years, perhaps because Muriel's 
 reputation for fairness was not of the best.
 
 262 THEN CAME CAROLINE 
 
 "Would you?" May re's tones were almost 
 pleading. 
 
 "Would I? Try me." 
 
 The next few days were spent in Mayre's 
 room behind a locked door. 
 
 "Don't let Maumy find out what we are doing," 
 Caroline cautioned. It was Mayre W 7 ho designed 
 the costume, of course. Only an artist could 
 have created it. She even insisted upon taking 
 her own spending money to purchase the ma- 
 terial, so grateful was she to be freed from the 
 engagement, and her nimble fingers fashioned it. 
 In the absence of Leigh who was still with Cousin 
 Eliza spending the summer at an Eastern re- 
 sort and getting stronger every day Mayre had 
 developed a talent for sewing. 
 
 "Oh, it's going to be too dear for words!" 
 Caroline exclaimed, running the soft lustrous 
 sateen through her hands. "I shall not only 
 look, but feel like a daffodil in it!" 
 
 A daffodil she was to be. It was marvelous 
 how Mayre, with the two shades of yellow one 
 deep gold, the other paler had fashioned a 
 flower. The lovely, upturned petals frilled about 
 Caroline's neck and shoulders; the soft green 
 silk, which Mayre had found in an attic trunk, 
 winding about her slender body, made a perfect 
 stem; the green mask, falling below her flushed 
 cheeks, added mystery and charm.
 
 CAROLINE GOES LARKING 263 
 
 "If I could only get out of the house without 
 Maumy seeing me," Caroline fretted. "She would 
 know me in a minute." 
 
 But at dinner, the night of the dance, Maumy 
 stopped beside Mrs. Ravenel's chair and said : 
 
 "Please, Miss Em'bly, if you don't mine, I'se 
 gwine to make a liT call to-night. I won't be 
 out late, but I'se got to go." 
 
 Caroline held her breath with suspense while 
 her Mother answered : 
 
 "Of course, if it is necessary, Rachel." 
 
 "What time are you going?" Caroline asked. 
 
 " 'Bout eight o'clock, I reckon if I can git 
 off." 
 
 "I will dry the dishes for you," Mayre sug- 
 gested, to Caroline's intense relief! 
 
 "This is the night of the party, isn't it, dear?" 
 Mrs. Ravenel inquired with surprise. "You will 
 scarcely have time to help Maumy." 
 
 "Oh, the party is not until nine." Mayre 
 answered lightly. "The costume is all ready, 
 you know." 
 
 "Let me see you, dear, before you go," her 
 mother said, eyeing her proudly. 
 
 And then an unexpected thing happened. 
 
 "I have tickets for a musical at the hotel to- 
 night," Doctor Ravenel said to his wife. "I feel 
 like relaxing. This has been a strenuous day. 
 Would you care to go?"
 
 264 THEN CAME CAROLINE 
 
 Mrs. Ravenel pleasantly acquiesced. Caro- 
 line's breath, again released, was quick and sibi- 
 lant. 
 
 Two hours later Punny, stepping into the 
 drawing-room (the front door had been left 
 wide), was somewhat aghast to see a flower on 
 a long, slender stem suddenly come to life and 
 walk toward him from the piano. When he had 
 recovered his startled senses, he gave a low, 
 complimentary whistle, exclaiming: 
 
 "Jove, that's something of a costume, Mayre! 
 But what has it done to you? It's that winding 
 business makes you look so tall, I suppose gives 
 you height. Well, I guess we'll show folks what's 
 what to-night. Gee, but you're stunning. I 
 suppose you designed it?" 
 
 "I helped," Caroline answered beneath the 
 green mask. Her voice was low and ladylike, 
 typically Mayre's. 
 
 "Well, it's a stunner all right! Don't think 
 I've ever seen anything just like it. Are we 
 ready to go?" 
 
 "Quite." 
 
 She went to the foot of the stairs and called 
 casually : 
 
 "Good night, Caroline. Don't forget to lock 
 up." 
 
 "Good-bye. I hope you have a wonderful time, 
 Mayre," came the enthusiastic answer.
 
 CAROLINE GOES LARKING 265 
 
 The ride to the club was given to a much more 
 animated conversation than Punny had expected. 
 
 "Say, what's changed you so?" he asked, as 
 they neared the brilliantly lighted house set in 
 a thicket of pines. "I never heard you talk 
 before. You were always such a little mouse at 
 school." 
 
 Caroline's pretty lips puckered. 
 
 "That was several years ago, Punny. I've 
 grown since then. You see, I was just a bud 
 now I'm blooming!" 
 
 "I'll say you are !" Punny admitted. "You've 
 as much punch as that young sister of yours. 
 What is it the old black woman calls her : 'Li'P 
 Miss No Count.' " 
 
 "She hasn't called her that for some time," 
 the daffodil objected. "And please don't call 
 Maumy a black woman. She is only black out- 
 side, you know ; her soul's white." 
 
 "You Southerners set great store by your 
 darkies," Punny remarked, his laugh ringing 
 out on the still air. 
 
 "We do when they are our friends," came the 
 quick retort. "Maumy's a Kirtley. She was 
 born in my grandfather's family." 
 
 The conversation must have grated, for the 
 daffodil drooped in the softly cushioned seat of 
 the Matthews runabout. 
 
 "You're not wilting?" Punny remarked anxi-
 
 266 THEN CAME CAROLINE 
 
 ously. "I want you to keep fresh until I deliver 
 you to Muriel." 
 
 The veranda was filling up with guests. Caro- 
 line ran up the wide steps and into the dressing 
 room. It was crowded with girls of Mayre's 
 age. 
 
 She threw off the long coat that had protected 
 her costume from curious eyes and went toward 
 the dressing table to arrange tendrils of wind- 
 blown hair and straighten her mask. A murmur 
 ran through the crowd. "Who is she?" was 
 whispered on every side. "Oh, how lovely! 
 Isn't she graceful, see that willowy walk like 
 a flower pushed by the wind. My dear, I see my 
 finish (this from a rosebud herself) ; that's the 
 belle of the ball !" 
 
 And the prophecy was correct. Caroline was 
 scarcely on the floor before her programme was 
 filled, even to the extra numbers. Punny had 
 scarcely a "look-in" (that was what* he called it), 
 although Alfred Feveral managed to acquire 
 three dances without effort. 
 
 The evening passed in a dream. Caroline never 
 forgot the bliss of her triumphs, even when her 
 "life's clock had struck eighteen" and she was 
 honestly admitted to the realm of social frolics. 
 She danced gaily, gracefully, forgetting the repu- 
 tation that she was storing up for her decorous
 
 CAROLINE GOES LARKING 267 
 
 little sister. The mask was her protection. She 
 could be as audacious as she liked. 
 
 Only one thing happened to mar the joy of con- 
 quest. It was when Alfred Feveral begged her 
 to sit out his dance beneath the sheltering pines. 
 She dreaded what she knew he wanted to say 
 and tried to turn the conversation. 
 
 But his heart was too full. 
 
 "Mayre," he began, "Mayre, you are so changed 
 the enthusiasm that I missed in your nature, 
 the joy and happiness I have found. You are 
 not shy." 
 
 "Oh, but I am! Please, let us go in that 
 music, it's a waltz." 
 
 "You are my music." 
 
 He had taken her hand but she quickly with- 
 drew it. 
 
 "You are so strange, dear, with all your vivac- 
 ity so changed " 
 
 "To-night I am a fairy princess ; the wave of a 
 wand and I am gone " 
 
 "You will never escape me " 
 
 "Watch me, Sir Knight !" 
 
 She had slipped from his side and was bowing 
 low, her laugh rippling on the evening breeze. 
 
 Alfred rose and stretched forth a hand, but the 
 daffodil swayed, the wind blew it back to the 
 ballroom. 
 
 He stood for a moment watching it a human-
 
 268 THEN CAME CAROLINE 
 
 ized, exquisite thing, floating on the arm of a 
 college man, a tall, well-built fellow, with a 
 healthy tan showing below his mask. 
 
 Then he went farther back among the pines 
 and sat for a long time, smoking in silence. 
 
 There was another exciting moment on the 
 broad veranda. It was when Jimmy Ludlow, 
 whom she had not dreamed of seeing, since he 
 was supposed to be in the mountains camping, 
 asked suddenly : 
 
 "How long does it take a girl to grow up, 
 Mayre? Is she a woman at eighteen old 
 enough for a heart affair?" 
 
 And the daffodil had straightened her mask, 
 raised it a trifle audaciously, so that her lips 
 were free to smile. 
 
 "That depends a little bit, Jimmy on the girl 
 
 >> 
 
 "Caroline, for instance," he said boldly. 
 
 "Caroline?" There was a second's pause. 
 "Caroline grew up in a night, Jimmy. It's sor- 
 row and responsibility that ages not years. 
 Will you excuse me? This dance belongs to 
 Punny poor Punny! I haven't been a bit 
 nice to him " 
 
 And another man went into the pines to smoke 
 and meditate. 
 
 It was almost twelve o'clock when the daffodil, 
 drooping suddenly, said :
 
 CAROLINE GOES LARKING 269 
 
 "Punny, I am sorry to ask you to take me home 
 before they unmask, but I have a headache," 
 which was almost true; excitement had brought 
 its penalty. "I really must go " 
 
 Caroline always liked Punny after his hearty, 
 "Sure, Mike!" It was sympathetic and under- 
 standing. "Why didn't you tell me sooner?" 
 
 "I only just felt it. You don't mind miss- 
 ing supper " 
 
 "I hate refreshment dope," Punny declared 
 honestly. "Now, if it was a hot dog " 
 
 But what did a daffodil know of "hot dogs?" 
 It vanished down the long veranda like mist be- 
 fore the sun. 
 
 And Punny, rubbing his eyes, gazed after it in 
 a dream. 
 
 "Well I'll be darned if you can tell a blame 
 thing about girls," he said, as he ran a bewildered 
 hand through his high, sleek pompadour. "Not a 
 doggone thing !"
 
 CHAPTEE XXI 
 MATTMY GOES VISITING 
 
 IF May re and Caroline had not been so en- 
 grossed in the fancy-dress party, they 
 would have been more surprised at Maumy's 
 wishing to make a call. Maumy's social activities 
 were confined strictly to the Wednesday-night 
 prayer meeting at the Baptist church and an 
 occasional oyster or strawberry "festible." 
 
 For some time an idea had been running 
 through Maumy's head, an idea that threatened 
 a mental breakdown unless she found a way to 
 stay her restless "gray matter." 
 
 "Look lak I'se gwine plum nutty," she mut- 
 tered behind the locked door of her bedroom; 
 "plum offen my haid ! I got to fine out somepin 
 or I ain't gwine to be woth shucks to my 
 fam'bly." 
 
 It took courage to "fine out," but determina- 
 tion is a willing handmaiden. 
 
 On the night of the party Maumy dressed for 
 her call with unusual care. Her broad, black 
 hands were scrubbed until they glistened; her 
 face had a corresponding brightness; her bonnet,
 
 MAUMY GOES VISITING 271 
 
 tied neatly beneath her chin, rested with dignity 
 on her white, kinky head ; her black alpaca dress, 
 just home from the dressmaker, was neat and be- 
 coming. 
 
 "Reckon I'se good enough to see quality," she 
 said, as she took a last look in the mirror that 
 hung above her bureau. "Reckon I'll 'scape the 
 ragpickers and git past a crowd." She chuckled 
 as she turned out her light and locked the door. 
 
 Down the street she wended her way, turning 
 at the corner to enter the side gate of The Lodge. 
 
 "Please, ma'am, could I see yo'r Madame," she 
 said to the maid who answered her knock at the 
 back door. 
 
 The maid was a little haughty as she answered, 
 "I will see," and left her standing outside on 
 the kitchen porch. 
 
 "Tell her it's Miz Ravenel's cullod Rachel," 
 Maumy called after the retreating figure. "I'se 
 right sure she's gwine see me." 
 
 The girl was more condescending when she 
 returned. "Madame is in her upstairs sitting 
 room. She will see you there." 
 
 Maumy puffed along up the stairs after the 
 light-footed girl, pausing on the landing a bit 
 uncertainly. 
 
 "In here, Maumy," a cordial voice called, and 
 the next moment Rachel was standing before the 
 sofa where Madame was reclining.
 
 272 THEN CAME CAROLINE 
 
 "Don't git up please, Miss Caroline " 
 
 The words slipped out so naturally that 
 Maumy put her hand over her mouth to stifle 
 them. "Madame" she corrected. 
 
 With her own hands Madame Wakefield pulled 
 forth a chair. 
 
 "Sit here, Maumy," she said kindly. "You 
 wanted to talk with me?" 
 
 Maumy sat as close to the edge of the chair 
 as comfort permitted. 
 
 "Yes'm. Yes'm, I does." 
 
 She leaned a little closer, her soft black eyes 
 straining in the Madame's direction, her ample 
 breast rising and falling with each quick breath. 
 
 The room was still, the ticking of a clock on 
 the mantel above them the only sound that 
 marred the silence. 
 
 Maumy reached forth a trembling hand ana 
 laid it on Madame Wakefield's knee. 
 
 "Honey," she said, her voice swept with emo- 
 tion, "honey, I ain't mistaken, is I; my ole eyes 
 ain't play in' me tricks?" 
 
 She stopped. Madame's face was strangely 
 tender. 
 
 "You is Miss Car'line Kirtley ain't you 
 the little gal what I used to fetch and carry fer 
 down on the old plantation in Virginny? You 
 reccomember my mammy's ole place down in the 
 west field, don't you? The li'F house your Paw
 
 MAUMY GOES VISITING 273 
 
 built fer her and us pickaninnies after the Jack- 
 sons done sent her ole man farther South. You 
 'member, don't you, Missy? You ain't forgot?" 
 
 The silence deepened. In Madame Wakefield's 
 eyes tears gleamed. She leaned forward and laid 
 a hand on Maumy Rachel's trembling black one. 
 
 "You is, ain't you, honey? You wouldn't fool 
 ole Maumy? I ain't gwine to tell nobody if you 
 don't want me to not even Miss Em'bly ner 
 the doctor. Maumy's kep' Kirtley secrets 'fore 
 this. Maybe you don't reccomember how your 
 brother Marse Gilbert run away an' come home 
 from the war that time po' lad jes' seventeen 
 and scart to def of them bullies up North. 
 Reckon you don't 'member how we hid him in 
 de ole cave out pas' de cornfield. Reckon you 
 don't 'member how we toted milk, and corn bread, 
 and now an' den a turkey laig, er a chicken bone. 
 Reckon you " 
 
 She paused for a second, her eyes still fixed 
 on the blue ones opposite. Then she went on : 
 
 "Reckon you ain't fergot young Massa Henry 
 Chenault that done try to kill his fool self the 
 night you married that young Englishman " 
 
 Madame Wakefield raised a hand that also 
 shook. 
 
 "Maumy, please," she said. 
 
 "And the time little Miss Betty Lee done took 
 the scarlet fever and died. Maumy ain't fergot
 
 274 THEN CAME CAROLINE 
 
 how you cried same as my little Miss Car'line 
 did, When the good Gord done took her little 
 sister." 
 
 They were both weeping softly now. Madame 
 Wakefield leaned back against the pillows and 
 covered her eyes with her hand. 
 
 "An' yer Paw, Miss Car'line. Lordy, I can see 
 him now, so fine and gran' in his uniform that 
 day he march away. Can't you, Miss Car'line? 
 The steel of his ole gun a-flashin' in the sun, 
 his yaller belt buckles a-keepin' company. An' I 
 can see yer Maw a-standin' in the doorway, wavin' 
 him off, holdin' out yer li'l' hands with their 
 sticky kisses. You always a great one fer sweets, 
 Miss Car'line. 
 
 "An' the old Kirtley house, where my li'l- white 
 kiddies war brung up. You rec'lec' that same 
 ole place with its big yard a-stretchin' to the hills 
 same flowers a-bloomin' 'stershums an' sweet 
 Williams an' 'dendrons yellow Harrison roses 
 an' sweetbrier. You ain't fergot the ole Balti- 
 more Belle that wrap itself round the front gal- 
 lery posts, is you? Miss Mayre, she done got a 
 slip of it from down there, Mrs. Boland sent it 
 you ain't fergot ole Colonel Boland, nuther, I 
 reckon and it's done fine fine. And the lilacs ! 
 Lordy, them lilacs we had ! Lavender and white, 
 smellin' the whole place up with their sweetness. 
 Ain't no lilacs here like'm, no, siree! Po' things
 
 MAUMY GOES VISITING 275 
 
 never git a chance to poke their noses through 
 de frost and snow that whirl down from the ole 
 Peak yander " she pointed with a jerky ges- 
 ture through the window. "No, ma'am, he done 
 set gainst lilacs. An' I wonder if y'all reccomem- 
 bers the liT willow twig you and me planted one 
 day out by the barn. It done grew to a big tree 
 a big tree !" 
 
 Madame Wakefield was not weeping now. She 
 was not even listening. Her eyes were dreamy, 
 reminiscent; a tender smile played about her 
 pleasant mouth. 
 
 Maumy relapsed into silence. It was the Ma- 
 dame who finally broke it. 
 
 "How did you know Maumy know that I 
 was Caroline Kirtley?" 
 
 "I reckon first it was somepin liT Miss said the 
 time she first seen you. She war tellin' the 
 fam'bly 'bout you at the dinner table. She's a 
 smart liT thing, Miss Car'line is ; them speckled 
 eyes of hers don't miss nothin'. Lord, Miss Car- 
 'line, you ought to seen her when she was little 
 beatenest chile to run away an' sass back an' act 
 up. But I was tellin' you, yes'm liT Miss she 
 come home an' say the lady over here had big 
 round eyes Kirtley eyes an she said they 
 laugh wif you, not at you. An' it made me think 
 of you; my, how y'all used to laugh when you 
 was little ! Seem lak you was born to smile.
 
 276 THEN CAME CAROLINE 
 
 "An' then the time y'all come over an' Miss 
 Alison she went on 'bout that ole lady she thought 
 was her Great-aunt. You must 'scuse Miss Ali- 
 son fer that, Miss Car'line. She done mean no 
 harm. The girls they done a heap a talkin' 
 'bout their Great-aunt when they was li'P things 
 jes' babies they didn't never spect nothin' 
 from her. It was all a joke." 
 
 "Of course, I quite understand." 
 
 "I hope you do. The Ravenels, they don't ax 
 nothin' of nobody! The Ravenels is just as good 
 most as the Kirtleys." Maumy's head went up 
 with a jerk. 
 
 "Most, Rachel?" The smiling mouth dimpled. 
 
 "Well, ma'am, don't seem lak nobody could 
 quite tetch a Kirtley, but the Ravenels is pow'ful 
 fine, pow'ful fine!" 
 
 Again there was silence. This time Maumy 
 spoke. 
 
 "Miss Car'line, I want to ax you something. 
 I hope you won't take no 'fense. It was you who 
 sent the pearls to Miss Alison, wasn't it? You 
 don't need to answer, I can see by your face." 
 
 "Miss Alison didn't know?" 
 
 "No'm, no'm ; she ain't never suspec'." 
 
 "They belonged in the Kirtley family, Maumy. 
 It was only right that they should come back to 
 it. I am too old for pearls. They were my 
 mother's."
 
 MAUMY GOES VISITING 277 
 
 "Yes'm. Seems lak I almost reccomember." 
 
 "And Miss Alison wanted pearls from Great- 
 aunt Caroline." 
 
 "Yes'm, yes'm. Ain't you never going to tell 
 her, Miss Car'line?" 
 
 "I think not. Why should I? It is quite as 
 pleasant to be a friend to the Ravenels as a rela- 
 tive." 
 
 "Oh, no, Miss Car'line; blood is thicker'n wa- 
 ter!" 
 
 "Perhaps, but I Shall ask you to keep my secret 
 a while longer." 
 
 "Did you know when you come here, Miss Car- 
 'line know my people was right 'cross the 
 street?" 
 
 "No not until the day Miss Caroline tried 
 to save little Ivan. I knew then. She is a dear 
 child." 
 
 "Miss Car'line? Yes'm, but uppidy. Ter'ble 
 uppidy sometime. You don't never know 'bout 
 her. And caution! Lordy, Miss Car'line ain't 
 got no more caution than a goose. Her Paw 
 was plum scared to def the day she dove after 
 the dog. He turn pale as a corpse when she tole 
 him. Miss Car'line, she's the core of his heart, 
 the very core, yes'm. An' I'se boun' to say she's 
 improvin'. Seem lak when she done git her 
 growth and her woman sense, she's gwine lead 
 >em all."
 
 278 THEN CAME CAROLINE 
 
 "I agree with you, Maumy." 
 
 "But they's all fine, all my chillun." 
 
 "Of course they are." 
 
 "You cain't hep havin' yer favorites." 
 
 "And yours?" 
 
 Maumy lowered her voice. 
 
 "I reckon I'se with the Major, if the truf was 
 known. I set a heap by LiT Miss ; it's always de 
 bad ones dat's got de spunk to do things. Miss 
 Car'line, she'll go further than all the rest put 
 together " 
 
 Maumy paused in the narration to laugh until 
 her fat sides shook. 
 
 "When Miss Car'line was little, seem lak she 
 done had a debil. I nearly bus' laffin' sometimes, 
 when I think of her tricks, but it wern't no joke 
 then, no, ma'am. I reccomember once when she 
 was a little girl they let her sing in the church 
 choir ; they have 'em in the 'Piscopal church, liT 
 boys and girls, and one 'Pifney Sunday they was 
 all gwine carry candles up the aisle." 
 
 Maumy paused to laugh. 
 
 "An' at the las' minute Miss Nancy Thurston, 
 y'all reccomembers the Thurstons Miss Car- 
 'line's Sunday-school teacher, she say to Miss 
 Em'bly she 'fred to trus' Miss Car'line to walk 
 up the aisle; she 'fred she bust out somewhere 
 
 Madame too was laughing softly.
 
 MAUMY GOES VISITING 279 
 
 "So Miss Em'bly, she took Miss Caroline in the 
 pew with her, an' while they was all a-singin', 
 and Miss Em'bly busy with her hymn book, all of 
 sudden they was a combustion and a titter run 
 through the congregation, and Miss Em'bly she 
 look up, and here Miss Car'line, she done wiggled 
 herself pas' her Maw, and got on the end of the 
 seat, and ever' time a candle done pass her, she 
 up and blew hit out ; yes'm, she done got 'em all 
 black as tar when Miss Em'bly she jerk her back 
 and sneak her out the side door. Oh, Lordy, seem 
 lak I never kin ferget that day. Miss Em'bly, 
 she come nearer being mad than we ever seen her, 
 but the doctor " 
 
 "What did the doctor do?" 
 
 "I reckon he done whup Miss Car'line, but hit 
 took him three days to git his face straight 'nougli 
 to do it; yes'm, the doctor he got more humor 
 than Miss Em'bly. Seem lak he can relish a joke 
 better." 
 
 There were other reminiscences of Caroline, 
 and of Leigh and little Hope. When Maumy 
 finished, the silver tones of the ornamental clock 
 were chiming ten. 
 
 "Reckon I'se taken up too much of your time, 
 Miss Car'line," Maumy apologized, "but I'se re- 
 lieved pow'ful relieved. I'd a been plum sick 
 if I hadn't come over here to-night. An' I'se 
 mighty glad to see you again in the flesh. Many
 
 280 THEN CAME CAROLINE 
 
 time I'se said howdy, fer old time's sake, to yer 
 picture in the hall. Yes'm." 
 
 "And you will not speak of your discovery, 
 Maumy; you will let me take my own time to 
 inform my relatives?" 
 
 The look in Maumy's honest face rebuked the 
 Madame. 
 
 "I beg your pardon, Kachel," she said humbly. 
 "Of course I may trust you. Good night. Come 
 to see me again. I want to know more of War- 
 rensburg and the old families." 
 
 And the Madame, instead of ringing for the 
 light-footed maid, traveled the length of the long 
 hall and down the stairs to let Maumy out the 
 side door.
 
 CHAPTER XXII 
 ALP MAKES A DISCOVERY 
 
 IT was in October that Leigh arrived home, 
 looking as fresh and dainty as a wild rose. 
 In New York Cousin Eliza had found a 
 specialist who, by a series of exercises, alternated 
 by absolute rest, had performed a miracle with 
 Leigh's back. It would never be absolutely 
 straight, but it was gradually mending, and her 
 step was almost as light as that of her sisters. 
 
 <r Tou are not going to work yourself down 
 again," was Caroline's injunction, beholding the 
 change with delight. "It isn't necessary. Mother 
 is a perfect dear about managing, and anyway, 
 the cares are much lighter than they used to be." 
 
 Leigh promised to be careful. She had brought 
 from the South a young negro girl to assist 
 Maumy in the kitchen, so that Maumy also might 
 be freed from overtiring burdens. Altogether, 
 the household cares seemed to have been reduced. 
 
 Leigh brought news of Alison's beautiful home 
 which was just being completed, of her social 
 conquests, her friends and neighbors.
 
 282 THEN CAME CAROLINE 
 
 "How long did you stay with her?" Caroline 
 asked. 
 
 "Oh, only a day or so, dear ; you see, she was 
 yery busy and she had so many duties; besides, 
 I went to visit Cousin Eliza." 
 
 Caroline made no comment; Leigh's flushed 
 face revealed more than words. Alison had been 
 too occupied with society to give her much at- 
 tention. 
 
 "I don't see how she could bear you out of 
 her sight," Caroline said, watching the color ebb 
 from her sister's face. "You were so good to her 
 when she w r as little. I remember how you used 
 to dress her dolls and make her clothes and run 
 after her with the whisk broom and mend her 
 things and " 
 
 "That was my pleasure, darling. Alison al- 
 ways graced her frocks, and she loved my dolly 
 clothes." 
 
 Caroline's disgruntled "Humph !" echoed down 
 the hall as she went to her own room. Caroline's 
 "Humphs !" were often eloquent. 
 
 It was about this time, her senior year in high- 
 school, that a new phase of her character de- 
 veloped. She became tremendously interested in 
 her father's poor (they were legion), and her 
 free hours were spent in visiting hovels, hospitals 
 and sanitariums. 
 
 "The dear child is exposing herself to all sorts
 
 ALF MAKES A DISCOVERY 283 
 
 of disease," Mrs. Kavenel complained, but the 
 doctor laughed. 
 
 "Caroline has had everything but smallpox and 
 hydrophobia, and since she carries several vac- 
 cination scars and the meanest dog on earth 
 wouldn't bite her, I am not worrying." 
 
 She appeared at Madame Wakefield's one day, 
 looking very serious. "Is Alf at home?" she in- 
 quired. 
 
 "I think so yes." 
 
 "May I see him, please?" 
 
 He had scarcely entered the room when she 
 said, "Alf, I want a suit of your clothes, good 
 ones, and an overcoat if you can spare it, and a 
 pair of stout shoes." 
 
 "I say, Caroline, that's a ripping order. 
 What's happened?" 
 
 "An accident to a young fellow the Major 
 has been looking after. He fell from a bridge 
 a high one and twisted his back, poor chap. 
 He's been in the hospital nearly six months, but 
 he's better now, and he wants to get home 
 
 somewhere in Illinois, I believe, and " 
 
 . "Would you come upstairs with us, Madame?" 
 Alf inquired. "Perhaps Caroline would like to 
 select the material. Suppose you won't object 
 to an English tailor?" 
 
 "Not in the least; anything goes, so that it's 
 neat and whole. My young man is pretty much
 
 284 THEN CAME CAROLINE 
 
 of a gentleman if he was stealing a ride on a 
 
 freight train " 
 
 "Oh, I see " 
 
 "No, you don't. You would have to know the 
 particulars." 
 
 "Wouldn't mind telling us since I'm to out- 
 fit him?" 
 
 "You'd be interested." 
 
 They had reached the second landing. Madame 
 was puffing and wheezing. Caroline slipped an 
 arm through hers, and together they walked the 
 length of the wide hall. 
 
 Alf's quarters were toward the west, a large 
 square room in perfect order. Caroline gazed 
 about in surprise. "I didn't know men were so 
 neat," she remarked. "You see, we are all girls 
 in our family; we don't know anything about 
 boys." 
 
 Alf found them seats and turned to his closet. 
 In a moment he had all the available chairs piled 
 with a man's wearing apparel. 
 
 Caroline seemed appalled. 
 
 "Oh, Alf, I really didn't mean your best things 
 
 just something half-worn and suitable 
 
 _____ )> 
 
 "I haven't anything else " 
 
 Caroline pointed to a tweed suit that had seen 
 wear but was still in good condition. 
 "That would be fine, and the brown overcoat
 
 ALF MAKES A DISCOVERY] 285 
 
 oh, you are kind it looks so warm and woolly. 
 Could I really have it? Barnes will be stunning 
 in it; he's such a big, well-built fellow. That's 
 why I came to you " 
 
 Alf made his best dancing-school bow. 
 
 "And he's so plucky. I'll tell you all about 
 him " 
 
 She did, and Alf contributed another suit. 
 
 Madame left them at the door of the upstairs 
 living room. Caroline sat down in front of the 
 mantel and gazed for a while at the portrait that 
 always fascinated her. She was perfectly at 
 home. She often sat there with Alf and drank 
 in his stories of England, his young sisters, his 
 cousins. She loved to hear about them of 
 the vast estates especially the Madame's. 
 
 "You must visit us sometime," he once said, 
 and her heart gave a great bound. To go to Eng- 
 land : to see an English garden English homes 
 English customs! To write about them 
 letters, of course to the family, Kathleen 
 Jimmy ! 
 
 "It would be wonderful," she sighed, "but im- 
 possible. In the first place Madame may never 
 ask me, and in the second, I doubt if we could 
 ever scrape up enough money for such a long 
 trip." She was always charmingly frank in re- 
 gard to the family finances. It was quite enough 
 to be a Kirtley, without having money.
 
 286 THEN CAME CAROLINE 
 
 "The Madame will ask you " 
 
 For some reason Alf stopped there and a bit 
 of color came into his clear English cheek. 
 
 "Do you think she would?" 
 
 But Alf had adroitly called her attention to 
 some photographs and she forgot the joy of con- 
 templation. 
 
 To-day, as she sat looking up at Charles Fev- 
 eral, her eyes were half-closed and dreamy. 
 
 "I wonder if I shall ever meet him," she said 
 presently. 
 
 "Shouldn't wonder." 
 
 "When I make that visit to England? When 
 somebody touches me with a fairy wand and 
 transports me hither " 
 
 Her low, bubbling laugh filled the room. 
 
 Alf came nearer and drew up a chair facing 
 her. 
 
 "Do that again," he said. 
 
 "Do what?" 
 
 "Laugh." 
 
 "Oh, mercy, Alf, one can't laugh at nothing." 
 
 "Tell me again about the fairies." 
 
 His face was warm and eager. Her own flushed 
 with a memory. It had come. She knew that it 
 would. It was not the first time she had caught 
 Alf watching her since the fancy-dress party. 
 She had felt the same searching scrutiny when 
 he sat with Mayre, a baffled, disappointed look
 
 ALF MAKES A DISCOVERY 287 
 
 that she alone could interpret. She knew un- 
 derstood. And his friendship with Mayre had 
 become a little more desultory. They had talked 
 garden until the subject was threadbare. And 
 Mayre no longer went about the house singing 
 her crooked little tunes. Sometimes she was wan 
 and wistful, again bright and hopeful. 
 
 Caroline loathed her part in the change, re- 
 gretted a thousand times her impulsiveness. She 
 almost came to the conclusion that she wanted 
 to be like Alison : cold and calculating and con- 
 ventional. It brought less misery after all; im- 
 pulsive people were always settling old scores, 
 clearing up past misunderstandings. 
 
 Alf spoke suddenly. He had been watching 
 her face. 
 
 "You put one over on me jolly well that that 
 night out at the club," he said, with his straight- 
 to-the-point English manner. 
 
 Caroline's lips were dumb. 
 
 "Didn't you?" 
 
 Still silence. 
 
 I S ay didn't you?" 
 
 "Did I?" 
 
 The color had leaped in Alf's face. He looked 
 a bit sheepish. 
 
 "When did you find it out?" Caroline at last 
 asked. 
 
 "Just now."
 
 288 THEN CAME CAROLINE 
 
 Again the low laugh filled the room. 
 
 "What's the joke?" 
 
 'Ton! You're so British, Alf, I can't help 
 
 laughing. It took you let me see " She 
 
 began to count on her slim brown fingers, "one, 
 two, three, four four months to see it." 
 
 "See what?" 
 
 "The joke. That's English, isn't it?' 
 
 "I believe we have a reputation for slowness in 
 some matters but not in others." His face 
 was so serious that Caroline jumped up quickly. 
 
 "Goodness, I hope I haven't offended you," she 
 said. 
 
 "You couldn't, you little witch." 
 
 "Not a fairy then?" She was still laughing; 
 her white teeth, gleaming between arched red 
 lips, gave her a daring, irresistible charm. 
 
 He tried to take her hand, but she eluded him 
 by picking up the suits. 
 
 "You are not going to carry those things over," 
 he said, taking them from her 
 
 "Certainly I am." 
 
 "Certainly you are not. James will deliver 
 them. Where do they go?" 
 
 "Across the street number 5075 Cascade 
 
 "Your house?" 
 "The Major's." 
 "I see."
 
 ALF MAKES A DISCOVERY 289 
 
 "Do you really ! You do see sometimes " 
 
 "Yes my eyes are full now." 
 
 He was looking straight into the speckled ones. 
 
 "Do you like coffee grounds?" she asked 
 saucily. 
 
 "I adore them." 
 
 "You are kind good-by. Thanks awfully for 
 the suits. Barnes is going to look like a king; 
 perhaps I will bring him over to thank you." 
 
 "Don't." 
 
 "Why " 
 
 "I don't want the poor chap appearing in my 
 cast-offs thanking me it would hurt him." 
 
 "So it would; you are thoughtful, Alf." 
 
 "Am I? I think I am a stupid fool." 
 
 "Because you couldn't see a silly joke?" 
 
 "Because " 
 
 He did not finish. "If if your man wants 
 anything else, let me know, please." 
 
 "There is one thing, but I hate to ask it 
 you have been so kind " 
 
 "What is it I offer you half my kingdom 
 
 >> 
 
 "For Barnes?" Her charming, tip-tilted face 
 lifted to his, her red lips flashed a bantering 
 smile. She went on hurriedly, "I am trying to 
 beg enough money from people who wouldn't 
 miss it to buy his railroad ticket. He is so 
 anxious to get home to see his mother before
 
 290 THEN CAME CAROLINE 
 
 she goes I told you how ill she has been for 
 years " 
 
 Alf reached into his pocket and drew forth 
 some bills. 
 
 "No no, please. I couldn't let you do it all. 
 I have saved quite a bit out of my allowance, and 
 the Major insisted upon contributing." 
 
 "Caroline, you make me feel ashamed." 
 
 "Pray why?" 
 
 "You are so good." 
 
 "You don't know me. Ask Maumy. She will 
 disillusion you tell you I was the laddest 
 
 Madame's appearance stopped the information. 
 
 "Did I hear you say that you wanted money 
 for this poor boy, Caroline?" 
 
 "Yes, Madame, but I have quite enough." 
 
 "He will want something in his pocket." 
 
 "It would be wonderful." 
 
 She took the bill that Madame brought and 
 thanked her prettily. She had gone a few steps 
 when she came back. 
 
 "May I kiss you for it," she asked, "on your 
 cheek? I've always wanted to somehow " 
 
 Just what brought the sudden rush of tears 
 to the round blue eyes Caroline could not imagine, 
 but when the Madame held out her arms she 
 cuddled into them. 
 
 And on that same Indian summer afternoon,
 
 ALF MAKES A DISCOVERY] 291 
 
 Blair Newland looked into Leigh's brightened 
 eyes and pressed his suit. The warm, sunny 
 veranda was quite deserted save for the two. 
 Leigh's fingers were busy with her lace and linen ; 
 there was still lace to whip and initials to em- 
 broider, if the family had become independent 
 of her services. 
 
 "Now that you are well or nearly so " 
 
 "I will never be wholly well, Blair dear; you 
 must not deceive yourself." 
 
 Blair's tender eyes caressed the sweet face 
 before him. 
 
 "I loved you when you were less strong," he 
 said patiently. 
 
 "Yes but we must wait a while yet, Blair 
 perhaps some day some day I shall really 
 be well enough to make a home for you but 
 not yet. It would be unfair " 
 
 And with that slender promise he was en- 
 couraged and content. 
 
 As the winter went on, Caroline took refuge 
 more and more in the tower room. Here she 
 wrote her school themes, studied, dreamed plots 
 of stories and dramas. Now and then one of 
 her poems, unsigned, found its way into the 
 Green and Gold, the high-school paper, and a 
 story appeared in a local magazine, but her hopes 
 still outweighed experience ; the way to fame was 
 long and steep. Perhaps her greatest gift lay
 
 292 THEN CAME CAROLINE 
 
 in realizing it. She was absolutely devoid of 
 egotism. Praise had the effect of humbling her. 
 She doubted her own ability with a zeal that 
 fostered it ; she wanted to prove its worth to her- 
 self, and in proving she grew. 
 
 The Major watched her development with eager 
 eyes. "If I am spared one year more," he said 
 when she was sixteen, and then, "one more year," 
 when she was seventeen; but now that she w r as 
 approaching eighteen, he sparred for greater 
 length of time. 
 
 It was one morning in the early spring that 
 Caroline, keeping office she always took the 
 office on Saturday grew impatient with a poor 
 sodden piece of humanity that clung to her 
 father for spiritual and physical support. 
 
 "What do you bother with old Kline for, 
 Major?" she said. "He came this morning in a 
 wretched condition, and I told him to go away." 
 
 "That was a little out of your province, Caro- 
 line." 
 
 "Oh, he'll come back, don't fear; but I can't 
 understand why you keep on with him, giving 
 him money when we need it ourselves." 
 
 She never forgot the look that gathered in her 
 father's eyes as he answered : 
 
 "My child, there is a turning point in the life 
 of every human soul. Who are you or who am 
 I to say when that moment shall come?"
 
 ALF MAKES A DISCOVERY, 293 
 
 Who, indeed. The next time Kline appeared at 
 the door she welcomed him graciously. Many 
 years later her father's loyalty and old Kline's 
 turning came back to her .with sudden force.
 
 CHAPTER XXIII 
 
 CABOLINE DECIDES 
 
 IT was April. One of those blue and gold days 
 that Colorado occasionally shows as a sam- 
 ple of what real weather ought to be. The 
 sky was turquoise; the sun, at mid-afternoon, 
 bright and warm ; the air so thin that it almost 
 seemed one could reach out and lay a caressing 
 hand on the old Peak. 
 
 "Look at him now, Maumy," Caroline said; 
 they were in the drawing-room busy with the 
 spring house-cleaning. Maumy's head was bound 
 in a red and yellow handkerchief; now and then 
 a white, kinky braid escaped its confines, to be 
 poked back by Caroline's mischievous fingers. 
 Maumy's bristling pigtails had always been a 
 source of merriment to her. 
 
 "I ain't got no time to be sky-gazm'," Maumy 
 said impatiently. "Look wh'all coming crost the 
 street." 
 
 Caroline ran to the French door. 
 
 "Why, it's Madame," she cried. "How slowly 
 she walks. Oh, dear, I am afraid her rheumatism
 
 CAROLINE DECIDES 295 
 
 is bad again. We have had so much rain this 
 spring." 
 
 "Miss Car de Madame ain't so spry as she 
 lister waz," Maumy said . 
 
 Caroline turned a surprised face. 
 
 "What did you start to call her, Maumy?" 
 
 "Hungh?" 
 
 "You said Miss Car " 
 
 "Sure I did. I say, Miss Car' line, de Madame 
 ain't so spry as she used to waz." Maumy's low 
 chuckle was cunning. 
 
 "Oh." 
 
 "You ain't changed your name yit, is you?" 
 
 "I should hope not. Why Why she's going 
 round to the office. I do believe she's going to 
 consult the Major. Well, if she had gone sooner, 
 she would be well now." 
 
 "I reckon so, honey." 
 
 "We must watch when she comes out and give 
 her some tea." 
 
 "I ain't gwine serve no tea house-cleanin' 
 time." 
 
 "I will you needn't bother." 
 
 "Where y 'gwine set her?" 
 
 "On the veranda." 
 
 "They's a cold wind thar your ole man he 
 looks pow'ful meek, but his brefs icy " 
 
 Caroline shook her head at the Peak. "Maumy 
 distrusts your smiles," she said and laughed.
 
 296 THEN CAME CAROLINE 
 
 Doctor Ravenel seemed rather surprised upon 
 entering his reception room to see Madame Wake- 
 field seated in his one easy chair. He came to- 
 ward her cordially. 
 
 "This is an unexpected pleasure, Madame. 
 You wish to see me?" 
 
 "Yes alone, please." 
 
 Wonderingly the doctor led her to the inner 
 room. When she was comfortably seated facing 
 him, he said : 
 
 "You are not well?" 
 
 "Perfectly. I have not called professionally, 
 Doctor Ravenel. May I have an hour of your 
 time, nevertheless? I think it will take quite all 
 of that to enlighten you as to who I am." 
 
 "As to who you are, my dear Madame " 
 
 "Yes." 
 
 The doctor's puzzled face hastened her in- 
 formation. 
 
 "Let us come to the point at once. I, Doctor 
 Ravenel, am Caroline Kirtley Wakefield, the 
 aunt of your wife, Emily Kirtley. I married at 
 eighteen, left Warrensburg but that is a long 
 story perhaps you do not care for details. 
 Pardon me, I have alarmed you. I am always 
 brusque England taught me that " 
 
 Doctor Ravenel was leaning back in his chair, 
 his amazed eyes leveled in his guest's direction. 
 
 "I should have been more considerate in my
 
 CAROLINE DECIDES 297 
 
 announcement but what is the difference? 
 You will understand presently. Why waste 
 words?" 
 
 "You are Caroline Kirtley my children's 
 great-aunt?" 
 
 Madame Wakefield thought she discovered a 
 flush traveling upward from his neck to his gray 
 hair. 
 
 She laughed. 
 
 "Please don't mind their silly conversations re- 
 garding me. It was most natural, I assure you. 
 I have never given it a moment's thought." 
 
 They both laughed, and the doctor put out his 
 hand. 
 
 "Let me welcome you into the family," he said 
 cordially. 
 
 "Thank you but for the present, I prefer to 
 remain Madame Wakefield." 
 
 It is scarcely necessary to record the visit that 
 followed, the history of Madame's two marriages, 
 the first to Sir Sydney Wentworth in her early 
 youth, the second, long after his death, to Colonel 
 Ainsdel Wakefield ; of her travels over the globe, 
 resulting, most naturally, in a visit to Colorado. 
 Her nephew, Alfred Feveral, nephew by mar- 
 riage she had never borne children of her 
 own wanted to see The Lodge, a gift to him 
 from his elder brother who had an unfortunate 
 experience there. So the history ran.
 
 298 THEN CAME CAROLINE 
 
 It was when she cameto thereal object of her 
 visit that the doctor straightened in his chair, 
 and his face grew a little ashen. 
 
 "As I said before, Doctor Ravenel, I am a 
 brusque person. I do not mince matters." Her 
 words, quickly staccato, bore evidence. "I get 
 to the point as speedily as possible. Your fourth 
 daughter, Caroline, has attracted me greatly. 
 She is also, I fancy, my name-sake. I have no 
 children of my own, as I have just said. I there- 
 fore " 
 
 Doctor Ravenel raised a trembling hand as if 
 to ward off a blow, but the Madame continued. 
 
 "I therefore wish to make provision for her in 
 my will. I am an old woman, Doctor Ravenel, 
 old in years. I shall soon have reached my four- 
 score; asthma is a poor bedfellow, though your 
 wonderful climate has benefited me " 
 
 She paused for a minute. The doctor had 
 leaned back in his chair. His gaze was directed 
 through the window. For once his eyes had lost 
 their inscrutability. They were no longer un- 
 fathomable. They were soft and tender. In their 
 depths lay the responsibility of parenthood. 
 
 Madame Wakefield saw that she had startled 
 him and for a moment she was silent. Presently 
 she went on : 
 
 "If it were possible, and you would allow me, 
 I should like to take Caroline home with me in
 
 CAROLINE DECIDES 299 
 
 the autumn to England. There she could have 
 many advantages educational social. Suc- 
 cess awaits her, I am sure, and with means at her 
 command " 
 
 It was then Doctor Kavenel spoke, almost 
 sharply : 
 
 "Success, Madame Wakefield, is not a wind- 
 fall ; it is a habit !" 
 
 "You mean " Madame Wakefield began 
 
 and stopped. The doctor's eyes were again in- 
 scrutable: the ghosts that passed before them 
 were not for the world, defeat, humiliation, dis- 
 appointment. He had failed with one child. Ali- 
 son's selfishness continually rebuked him. Yes, 
 he had failed there, flagrantly. 
 
 The face that he turned to Madame Wakefield 
 was almost haggard. She was touched. 
 
 "I know that I am asking for your very life, 
 Doctor " 
 
 "It is not that. I am accustomed to sacrifices." 
 Unconsciously a cough rose to his lips. Colorado 
 had fought valiantly, but could never entirely 
 heal his damaged lungs. He knew that. There 
 would always be a struggle. 
 
 "It is not the sacrifice. That I would make 
 willingly. I shall have to think over your offer, 
 Madame Wakefield, but if I refuse it, I must 
 ask you not to doubt my gratitude. We must 
 not fail Caroline."
 
 300 . THEN CAME CAROLINE 
 
 She did not question what he meant. Caroline 
 Kirtley was too fine to trespass. 
 
 "I shall trust your wisdom in the matter, but 
 in regard to my will time waits for no man, 
 Doctor. I know not when my hour may come. 
 I want to make Caroline my heir." 
 
 Doctor Ravenel rose with her. 
 
 "Under no circumstances would I wish Caro- 
 line to inherit a fortune until she has reached 
 the age of thirty. By then, if ever, habit will 
 have insured success. I thank you more per- 
 haps than I have been able to express." 
 
 It was after dinner, that night, that Caroline 
 was invited into the office. Her father, as al- 
 ways, drew up a chair for her. His cigar was 
 well alight when he said: 
 
 "To-morrow, I believe, is your eighteenth 
 birthday." 
 
 "So it is, Major. I had almost forgotten." 
 
 "Do you realize that you will be of age?" 
 
 "No; will I really? How interesting!" 
 
 "Have you thought what you want to do in 
 the future? Nowadays girls, as well as boys, 
 work toward a definite result." 
 
 "Mercy, you are not going to turn me out, are 
 you, Major?" She reached and slipped a hand 
 into his. 
 
 "I should always want you with me, Caroline," 
 he said softly. "I must watch lest I become sel-
 
 CAROLINE DECIDES 301 
 
 fish. No I merely want to help you find your- 
 self, to know that great big world out there 
 called life." 
 
 "But goodness, Major, is it so serious as that !" 
 "To-morrow you cross a line, my child, into 
 womanhood. There are obligations." 
 "I must stop playing." 
 "There will always be time for play." 
 "But I must lay plans for the future. Is that 
 it?" 
 
 "It is none too soon to begin." 
 "I think I should like to write, Major." 
 "Very well ; that means education." 
 Caroline's brown head bobbed. 
 "I if it were possible, I should like to go to a 
 good college where I could get the best English. 
 But most of all I want to live to understand 
 people their hurts and cares and ambitions to 
 get inside of them. Perhaps you don't quite 
 understand down under the skin and work 
 out." 
 
 She laughed her low, bubbling laugh. 
 "Yes I understand. What kind of people?" 
 "Oh, all kinds. They don't differ much. What's 
 that couplet? 
 
 'When you get to a man in the case, 
 They're like as a row of pins - 
 For the Colonel's Lady and Judy O'Grady 
 Are sisters under their skins.'
 
 302 THEN CAME CAROLINE 
 
 Take Maumy, for instance. Did you ever know 
 a finer lady down under the skin? Look at 
 her loyalty, her modesty, her fairness and de- 
 cency." 
 
 She broke off suddenly: 
 
 "Oh, Major, I hate growing up !" 
 
 "We have all hated it, I suspect, Caroline." 
 
 "Why must we?" 
 
 The doctor smiled. 
 
 "I am afraid if old people could keep their 
 looks their sparkle along with the experi- 
 ence age contributes, poor youth would have no 
 show at all." 
 
 "I had never thought of that. Gracious, there's 
 so much to learn!" 
 
 "So much, indeed." 
 
 Silence fell between them. The doctor puffed 
 at his cigar; Caroline caught the rings. 
 
 "I suppose I will have to stop this," she said, 
 and her red lips pouted, "now that I am crossing 
 the Eubicon." 
 
 Her father did not speak. 
 
 "Is that all you wanted, Major? If it is " 
 
 Suddenly he leaned forward in his chair. He 
 was under a great strain. Caroline felt it. 
 
 "How would you like to go abroad?" he asked 
 abruptly. 
 
 "Abroad !" She bounded from her chair. 
 
 Yes to England!"
 
 CAROLINE DECIDES 303 
 
 "With the Madame?" 
 
 "Yes." 
 
 For a moment the atmosphere was strangely 
 tense. 
 
 "To London, Major?" 
 
 "I suppose so." 
 
 "Oh, I would simply adore it. Could I?" 
 
 "I want you to think it over." 
 
 "You mean decide? She's really asked 
 me?" 
 
 For a moment he did not answer; it almost 
 seemed that he could not. Then he nodded 
 gravely. 
 
 "Oh, Major, it sounds like like 'such a big 
 order', as Alf says. I am afraid I can't decide 
 alone. You must help me. When would she 
 want me to go?" 
 
 "Next autumn, I believe." 
 
 Again there was an ecstatic "Oh." 
 
 Her father rose. 
 
 "To-morrow morning, early before office 
 hours I want you to come in here and tell me 
 your decision. Good night." 
 
 She was dismissed, but something in the Maj- 
 or's face made her yearn to linger. He looked old 
 and careworn. There were lines about his eyes 
 that she had never noticed before. His step was 
 weary. 
 
 It was a tedious night for both. Doctor Rav-
 
 304 THEN CAME CAROLINE 
 
 enel lay on his cot in the tent, looking out upon 
 the stars. 
 
 Caroline tumbled and tossed. When she slept 
 it was to dream wild, thrilling dreams. Toward 
 morning a strange peace fell upon her. She crept 
 from her bed and threw a dressing gown about 
 her. To the East the sky warmed with color. 
 She watched it until the last tone ebbed. Still 
 she sat gazing eastward. 
 
 At nine o'clock she presented herself at the 
 office. As always, the Major had dressed with 
 care. She noticed his hands the well-kept nails 
 the top of his snowy handkerchief showing 
 above his coat pocket. There was an air about 
 him. A thrill of pride shot through her. 
 
 "I have decided, Major," she said, and her 
 voice trembled a little. "Could we sit here a 
 minute, please?" 
 
 The Major pulled up chairs. 
 
 "I am very grateful to the Madame, but but 
 I shall not accept her invitation," she said 
 quietly. Her voice was low. 
 
 A light leaped to the tired eyes opposite. 
 
 "I feel you see may I speak frankly, 
 Major? I don't just know what it would do to 
 me now while I am so young. There was 
 Alison, you know. Leigh says it is so easy to be- 
 come spoiled and lazy and I want to work, 
 Major "
 
 CAROLINE DECIDES 305 
 
 For a moment it seemed as if she could not 
 
 "And I think, perhaps some day we could 
 manage I mean so that I could go to school 
 to college. I would rather you sent me, even 
 if I have to go economically. I have a nasty 
 pride, I reckon; it's the Ravenel in me, I sus- 
 pect " 
 
 Her father was watching her with smiling eyes. 
 
 "I don't like to be turned into an orphan 
 while I have you " 
 
 They both laughed. 
 
 "You remember the time Mrs. Boland gave 
 me one of Sally's outgrown dresses, and I asked 
 you what she took me for an Orphans' Home 
 or the Salvation Army? Well I am like that 
 yet, a bit I " 
 
 There was a catch in her voice, but she went 
 on: 
 
 "I was thinking this morning how long I have 
 been walking with you, Major. Remember how 
 we used to go down the lane after tea in Vir- 
 ginia? That time you were so ill? I always 
 held to your hand and you told me about the 
 flowers the rhododendrons on the hills. And I 
 remember how, when you used to clip the roses, 
 I held the basket. I could scarcely wait to get 
 my hand in yours again. It felt so big and com- 
 fortable so secure. I think if you don't
 
 306 THEN CAME CAROLINE 
 
 mind I'll walk with you a little farther, 
 Major." 
 
 She turned and left the room suddenly. She 
 had never before seen tears in his eyes. They 
 frightened her. 
 
 She went upstairs and sat down before the 
 desk in the tower room. The windows were 
 open. The air floated in softly, rippling the 
 little curls that strayed about her neck and fore- 
 head. The old Peak glittered. 
 
 Her glance strayed to the motto above the desk, 
 and to a note beside it. 
 
 She smiled as she took it down and blew away 
 the dust, smiled as she read the fading lines : 
 
 September the fifteenth, 19 
 
 The Mesa 
 Four o'clock
 
 A wholesome and diverting story of a girl mascot of the U. 8. 
 Marine Corps 
 
 SERGEANT JANE 
 
 By MARGARET MOORE MATLACK 
 
 With illustrations by Nana French Bickford. 
 
 12mo. Cloth. 278 pages. 
 
 Sergeant Jane is the thirteen-year-old daughter of a Colonel 
 of Marines, who is sent to command the Marine post at Char- 
 lotte Amalia in the West Indies. Jane herself tells the story of 
 her adventures, the escapades of her small brother Jimmy, and 
 the to her absurdities of her sister, who has just reached 
 the sentimental stage. Sergeant Jane is a breezy small person 
 with a fondness for outdoor sports, a keen sense of humor and a 
 deep pride in her father's beloved marines. They in turn adopt 
 her as their mascot; hence her title. In the course of the story 
 Jane gives some very interesting pictures of the beautiful island, 
 the charm of the life there, and the customs of the people. There 
 is a good plot running through the pages, in which Jane has a 
 chance to exercise her ingenuity, and a mystery which she is in- 
 strumental in clearing up. 
 
 "The finding of a good book for girls is a none too frequent 
 occurence at the present time, or perhaps at any time. 'Sergeant 
 Jane' is distinctly out of the ordinary, and it has many charac- 
 teristics which should recommend it to immediate interest; . . . . 
 the story is f uh of mystery and exciting incidents both of which 
 are likely to be lacking in the ordinary girls' book." The Boston 
 Transcript. 
 
 LITTLE, BROWN & CO., PUBLISHERS 
 34 BEACON STREET, BOSTON
 
 The story of a little patriotic Cuban girl 
 
 LITTLE CUBA LIBRE 
 
 By JANIE PRICHARD DUGGAN 
 Illustrated. 282 pages. 12mo. 
 
 In all the big city of Havana there was no more patriotic 
 little girl than Amada Trueno, daughter of one of the city 
 gardeners. With all her heart she hated the Spaniards who 
 ruled her beloved island of Cuba. "Little Cuba Libre" they 
 called her when she stamped her foot and called the Spaniards 
 enemies and tyrants. When she went to her cousin's house 
 in the country, although she played on friendly terms with 
 the children of a Spanish planter, still her hatred of the op- 
 pressors slumbered. How the Cubans finally revolted, and 
 how little Amada herself took part in that revolution, even 
 to the extent of bearing arms, is told in this charming story. 
 "Little Cuba Libre" contains faithful pictures of Cuban life 
 and Cuban people, and while written especially for young 
 readers, its fine qualities should also appeal to older ones. 
 Besides being an interesting story of Cuban girlhood it is a 
 depiction of the very spirit of patriotism. 
 
 LITTLE, BROWN & CO., PUBLISHERS 
 34 BEACON STREET, BOSTON
 
 A 000035852 3