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 IN BLUE CREEK CANON. 
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 MARGARET DAVIS, TUTOR. 
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 She went Hying after him, down the long drive and out into the road. 
 Page L'31.
 
 MARGARET DAVIS, TUTOR 
 
 BY 
 
 ANNA CHAPIN RAY 
 
 AUTHOR or "HALF A DOZEN BOYS," "HALF A DOZEN GIRLS,' 
 " THE CADETS OF FLEMMING HALL," 
 "!N BLUE CREEK CANON" 
 
 NEW YORK : 46 EAST I4TH STREET 
 THOMAS Y. CROWELL & CO. 
 
 BOSTON : lOO PURCHASE STREET
 
 COPYRIGHT, 1893, 
 BY T. Y. CROWKLL & CO. 
 
 Typography by J. S. Gushing & Co. 
 Presswork by S. J. Parkhill & Co.
 
 TO 
 MY TWO REAL CHARACTERS 
 
 Uanfortfj 
 
 FRIEND, PUPIL, AND CRITIC 
 AND 
 
 ILattite 
 
 THE FAITHFUL COMPANION 
 
 WHO FELL ASLEEP JUST AFTER THIS 
 
 LITTLE STORY WAS WRITTEN 
 
 2072272
 
 CONTENTS. 
 
 CHAP. PAGE 
 
 I. THE TWINS 9 
 
 II. THE MESSAGE or THE ROSES .... 28 
 
 III. NEW FRIENDS 52 
 
 IV. MARGARET AND HER PUPILS .... 76 
 V. BOBBIE'S EXPLORATIONS ..... 96 
 
 VI. LADDIE'S CHAMPION ...... 121 
 
 VII. LADDIE STUDIES THEOLOGY .... 138 
 
 VIII. IN THE FIRELIGHT . . . . . . 154 
 
 IX. DANFORTH 172 
 
 X. HIDE AND SEEK . . . . ' . . . 192 
 
 XI. JACK'S SKATING ....... 211 
 
 XII. THE MEETING OP OLD FRIENDS . . . 227 
 
 XIII. BROTHER JENKINS 244 
 
 XIV. DANFORTH'S ROMANCE 262 
 
 XV. u FACILIS DESCENSUS AVERNI " . . . . 280 
 
 XVI. DUKE AND DANFORTH 296 
 
 XVII. THE REPEATED MESSAGE 314 
 
 XVIII. DOWN BY THE SKA 332 
 
 XIX. JUNE ROSES 348 
 
 7
 
 MARGARET DAVIS, TUTOR. 
 
 CHAPTER I. 
 
 THE TWINS. 
 
 " ' HE may have been little, or he may have been tall, 
 But his tale is so sad, you will weep for it all, 
 And it happened along of a bat and a ball. 
 Boo-hoo ! Boo-hoo 1 ' " 
 
 sang Jack teasingly. " That fits your case pretty 
 well, Dan ; but I don't see any use in your being 
 so mortally glum about it." 
 
 Danforth Spaulding had been lounging in one 
 of the deep window-seats of his room, moodily 
 twisting the fringe of the dimity curtain ; but at 
 his brother's last words, he abruptly sat up and 
 faced him, as he said, with a sudden flash of 
 anger, 
 
 " Can't you let me alone one single minute, 
 Jack? There's no use in hitting a fellow when 
 he's down ; and I'm in enough of a scrape as 'tis, 
 without your crowing over me." 
 
 9
 
 10 MARGARET DAVIS, TUTOR. 
 
 " There isn't any scrape about it, only you do 
 take things so hard," declared Jack, who sat on 
 the edge of the table, swinging his heels as he 
 talked. "'Twas nothing but a frolic, and old 
 Duffy ought to know it wasn't. You aren't the 
 fellow to mean to chuck a ball through his 
 window and upset all the things on his desk, and 
 you'd have told him so, if you'd had half the 
 spunk of a baby mosquito." Jack brought his 
 heels together with an emphatic click ; then he 
 went on, in a tone of mingled annoyance and 
 accusation : " But that's the way it always is ; as 
 soon as Duffy went for you, you turned all colors 
 at once, and stammered, and acted scared out of 
 your seventeen senses. Of course he came down 
 on you all the worse, after that, for he thought 
 you were a sneak that wouldn't take the conse- 
 quences of his sins ; and I don't much blame 
 him, I declare I don't." 
 
 " Oh don't, Jack ! " remonstrated the culprit 
 feebly, while his face flushed and his eyes grew 
 large and dark, as if the tears were not far away. 
 
 "Yes, I know; but it's so, every word of it," 
 said Jack rather impatiently, for he was often 
 sorely tried by his twin brother's lack of self- 
 assertion. " You don't do half the things . the
 
 THE TWINS. 11 
 
 rest of us can, and come out all right; but you 
 always will get rattled in the wrong place, and 
 let Duffy see just what you've been about. Then 
 when he gets after you, you act as if you were 
 frightened to death. Now, I think the only way 
 for a fellow to do, when he gets into a corner, is 
 to hold up his head like a man, and take what's 
 given him, without a grumble. Old Duffy likes 
 you better, if you do, and he isn't half as apt to 
 go for you next time. He's sort of used to scold- 
 ing you, somehow, and he keeps at it. If you 
 wouldn't be so everlastingly meek about it, he'd 
 let you off easier; but now he's given you a 
 thrashing, and sent a note home to grandpa." 
 
 The charge was in part deserved, and Jack felt 
 that right was upon his side, so he rounded out 
 his criticism with the unsparing frankness of boy- 
 hood. Then, when he glanced at Danforth again, 
 his conscience suddenly smote him. The two boys, 
 as unlike as twins often are, were as fond of each 
 other as brothers could possibly be ; and although 
 Jack never hesitated to express his own opinion 
 of his brother's doings, he was quick to resent 
 even the suspicion of blame or reproof from any- 
 one else. And now Danforth sat curled up in 
 a corner of the window-seat, biting his lips to
 
 12 MARGARET DAVIS, TUTOR. 
 
 steady them and digging his clenched hands deep 
 down into his pockets, to keep from showing, by 
 some involuntary motion, how he was writhing 
 under the scorn in Jack's voice, while he looked, 
 as he felt, a picture of abject misery. Jack 
 watched him, for a moment, out of the corners of 
 his eyes ; then he slid down from the table and 
 began to wander up and down the room in a 
 series of curves which gradually brought him 
 nearer and nearer his brother in the window. At 
 length he paused at Danforth's side. 
 
 "I didn't mean to be hard on you, Dan," he said 
 more gently, as he rested one small brown hand 
 on his brother's shoulder. "I only hate to see 
 you keep getting thrashed for something that 
 isn't your fault. You need more bones in you, 
 somehow ; that's all. It's because you're such a 
 good fellow that I care, you see. But how that 
 ink did fly, and how funny Duffy did look, mad 
 as a yellow-jacket, and with a great black smooch 
 on his cheek!" And Jack laughed so uproar- 
 iously at the recollection, that even his brother 
 smiled. It was a pale and watery smile, but 
 Jack heralded it with rapture, for it was a sign 
 that the cloud was passing. " 'Twas no end of a 
 shame," he continued, as his hand closed upon
 
 THE TWINS. 13 
 
 his brother's palm which was red and swollen, as 
 if from a recent bruise ; " 'twas a perfect shame 
 for him to hit you so. He never knows what he's 
 about, when he's mad, and he lays it on harder 
 than he means to. But, I say, I'll go and get 
 some of that stuff of Uncle Jerry's, and maybe 
 'twill feel better." 
 
 " I don't mind the hurt," said Danforth sturdily, 
 as, yielding to his brother's encouragement, he 
 sat up and shook himself ; " that will be all right 
 by to-morrow ; but I hate to go back into school 
 again, for grandpa says I must apologize before 
 all the fellows, and I know Duffy will read me a 
 sermon." 
 
 " Grandpa's all upset over it," observed Jack 
 not too consolingly. " He says no Atherton was 
 ever whipped in school before, and it's brought 
 disgrace on the family name. I shouted at him 
 that we weren't Athertons, we were Spauldings ; 
 but he didn't hear, for he'd dropped his trumpet 
 just then, and grandma looked so shocked that 
 I didn't dare say it over." 
 
 " I wish grandpa wouldn't be quite so hard on 
 us," said Danforth, turning despondent once 
 more. " He always acts as if boys in his day 
 were never in a scrape ; and I heard him telling
 
 14 MARGARET DAVIS, TUTOR. 
 
 grandma that he didn't see what to do with us 
 next. If only papa " 
 
 "But papa isn't," responded Jack promptly. 
 " Papa's in India, and we're here. And even if 
 he weren't, Dan, we've come to where we must 
 fight our own battles; we aren't babies any 
 longer, we're almost men. But wait till Uncle 
 Jerry gets home, and then he'll straighten it all 
 out," he added hopefully, for Uncle Jerry was 
 the refuge of the boys in times of trouble. 
 
 But in the meantime Uncle Jerry had come 
 home, and a council was even then being held 
 down-stairs. Bobbie, as the boys called their 
 younger sister Roberta, had been ignominiously 
 dismissed from the drawing-room; not at all to 
 her own satisfaction, however, for she was curious 
 to hear what was to be the outcome of " poor 
 Dan's awful scrape," as she termed it, and more- 
 over she was loyally desirous of speaking a word 
 for her brothers, if the tide of feeling seemed to 
 turn against them. But Grandpa Atherton had 
 ordered her from the room ; and Bobbie was too 
 honorable to linger in the hall, where she could 
 easily have overheard all that was said, thanks to 
 her grandfather's extreme deafness, which effectu- 
 ally put an end to the privacy of the family con- 
 claves.
 
 THE TWINS. 15 
 
 It was a strangely assorted family circle who 
 lived in the old Atherton house. Years ago, the 
 old place had been gay with the busy life of a 
 large family of children. Then, for a time, the 
 childhood had gone out from it, and it was not 
 until a new generation came on, that the echoes 
 of past days were wakened once again. Life in 
 an old family house, even the plainest, is fuller 
 and richer, oftentimes, than in the finest mansion 
 of last year's building. Each nook and corner 
 has its unspoken story, and each chair and table 
 can set one dreaming of the past. If we but think 
 of it, the very air of the rooms about us is haunted 
 with the shadows of former days, who walk over 
 and guard us, their children of later years. 
 
 Old Captain Atherton had built this house for 
 his bride, when the present century was still 
 young. In those far-off days, it was no matter 
 of a few weeks to plan and execute the building 
 of a house ; but when at last it was done, and the 
 furniture, ordered from France and England, was 
 arranged in its place, no bride could have been 
 brought home to a richer, more sumptuous dwell- 
 ing. But not even the beauty of her home, not 
 even her young husband's devotion could prolong 
 the life of the poor little bride. The same day
 
 16 MARGARET DAVIS, TUTOR. 
 
 which brought a son into the house, took away 
 the young mother ; and before he realized that 
 the blow was about to fall, Captain Atherton 
 found himself alone in the great house, alone, 
 for neither the servants nor his tiny son could 
 be companions to him in his loss. 
 
 However, the years which looked so long, as 
 they stretched out before him, that stormy Decem- 
 ber day, hurried by, and once again a bride was 
 brought to the home. Captain Atherton lived 
 to welcome his son's Avife ; then, only a few weeks 
 later, he quietly passed away to join his own bride 
 of years ago, leaving his house filled anew with 
 the gladness of young married life. 
 
 Fifty years had passed since then, and the bride 
 and groom had become old people, though they 
 were still living in the unchanged home. They 
 were Grandpa and Grandma Atherton, now ; and 
 the years which had brought them a flock of chil- 
 dren, had taken them away again, all but two. 
 Grace, the oldest daughter, had gone abroad for 
 a year, and soon afterwards she had married an 
 English army officer ; while Gerald, the youngest 
 of them all, was living in the old house, unmar- 
 ried. 
 
 Three years before, the Atherton house, so long
 
 THE TWINS. 17 
 
 quiet, all at once wakened into new life. A let- 
 ter had come from far-away India, where Colonel 
 Spaulding was in service, to tell them that Grace 
 and the children would start for home by the next 
 steamer, to make them a long visit. 
 
 "I want the children to get acquainted with 
 their home and friends," Grace wrote. " They 
 have never known any grandparents, and they 
 are disgracefully ignorant about America. Per- 
 haps, if I can find courage to leave them, I shall 
 ask you to take charge of them until they are 
 educated. But I can talk about that later, when 
 I see you." 
 
 To ^see Grace again, and perhaps to have Grace's 
 children for their own ! The old people went about 
 in a happy dream, while they waited for the days 
 to pass until the steamer should reach New York 
 and Gerald could meet his sister. Then came a 
 sudden shock which left them wondering how they 
 could ever have been so happy, wondering even 
 what happiness meant. On the P. and O. steamer, 
 soon after leaving Bombay, Grace had been taken 
 seriously ill, and, from the first, the ship's doctor 
 had declared that there could be but one result. 
 The poor little woman had made a brave fight, for 
 she was determined to reach America alive, and
 
 18 MARGARET DAVIS, TUTOR. 
 
 herself place her children in her parents' care ; but 
 it was all in vain. She lingered until England 
 was passed, and she was on the Cunarder, with 
 New York almost before her eyes ; but when the 
 steamer came into port, Gerald only found three 
 motherless children who looked at their stranger 
 uncle, with fearful, awe-stricken eyes, and then 
 turned away, to cling to each other and sob, in all 
 the freshness of their loss. 
 
 The home-coming had been a sad one to them 
 all, and for weeks the old house had lain under 
 a heavy cloud; but little by little they took up 
 the threads of life again and resumed their former 
 ways. It had been arranged that until the chil- 
 dren were ready for college, they should remain 
 with their grandparents ; and, with the easy adapt- 
 ability of childhood, they had quickly settled into 
 their new surroundings of home and school. Long 
 before their first year was over, their Indian life 
 was a vague dream to them, and they were as 
 loyal little Americans as if they had always dwelt 
 under the stars and stripes. The twins were fif- 
 teen now, and Roberta a year and a half younger, 
 a bright, headstrong, wilful little woman who was 
 at once the torment and delight of her brothers. 
 She was as fond of them as they were of her, lov-
 
 THE TWINS. 19 
 
 ing Danforth with all the fervor of her nature, 
 while she adored Jack as a superior being, in spite 
 of their frequent contests. When Jack teased her 
 beyond endurance, she fled to Danforth for sym- 
 pathy. When she was in disgrace for assaulting 
 Danforth's sensitive points, which happened at least 
 five times a week, she betook herself to Jack, and 
 together they plotted fresh mischief. But when 
 an outside enemy threatened any one of the trio, 
 then they ranged themselves shoulder to shoulder, 
 and fought for each other and for themselves as 
 gallantly as their soldier father would have done, 
 in their places. 
 
 And now the outside foe had made an attack, 
 for Duffy, as the children irreverently termed Mr. 
 Dufferin, their teacher, had not only whipped 
 Danforth for a mere accident, but had carried war 
 into the enemy's camp by sending a note to 
 Grandpa Atherton, requesting the old man to 
 uphold his discipline, and add a private punish- 
 ment to the public one. No wonder that the boys 
 had fled to their room, and that Bobbie had been 
 summarily dismissed from the drawing-room, while 
 Grandpa and Grandma Atherton talked it over 
 with Uncle Jerry. 
 
 " He'd be a hopeless young scamp if he weren't
 
 20 MARGARET DAVIS, TUTOR. 
 
 such a baby," Grandpa Athertoii was saying tes- 
 tily. "In my day, boys used to mind their 
 teachers, and treat them with some respect." 
 
 "But there wasn't any disrespect in this case, 
 father," urged Uncle Jerry, stretching himself up 
 to his fullest height, to bring his lips up to the 
 ear-trumpet of the tall old man before him. 
 
 Uncle Jerry was very small, no larger than a 
 boy of fourteen should have been. Nevertheless, 
 no one who knew Gerald Athertoii ever referred 
 to him as a dwarf ; it was always as " the little 
 man," with a half-tender accent upon the words, 
 since to meet him once was to be won by his bright 
 manner, his unvarying courtesy and his cheery 
 unconsciousness of his physical disadvantages. 
 Except in the matter of size, nature had been kind 
 to Gerald, for his little body, though far too small 
 for the great, generous heart within it, was per- 
 fectly formed, and his handsome face with its blue 
 eyes, dark hair and crisp brown mustache, with its 
 look of perfect health and its ready smile, gained 
 the liking of the very strangers in the streets. 
 He had been the favorite at school ; he had been 
 the most popular man of his college class ; and 
 now, at thirty, Gerald Athertoii had more friends 
 than any other man in town, and was generally
 
 THE TWINS. 21 
 
 acknowledged to be one of the most promising 
 young lawyers of his state. 
 
 " No," he said again ; " I can't see that Danforth 
 was in the least to blame for anything but his 
 carelessness." 
 
 " Then why couldn't he have said so like a man, 
 and not whimpered like a baby ? " retorted Grandpa 
 Atherton, abruptly shifting his ground for the 
 attack. 
 
 " Don't you know that isn't Danforth 's way, 
 John ? " asked Grandma Atherton gently. 
 
 " What ? " And Grandpa Atherton swung has- 
 tily around, and brought his trumpet to bear upon 
 his wife, who sat knitting by the fire, a dainty 
 picture of sweet old age. 
 
 She repeated her question. This time, her hus- 
 band heard her. 
 
 " It's time it was his way," he responded curtly. 
 " I've no patience with that boy. He hasn't any 
 spirit, and never will have ; and I believe it ought 
 to be thrashed into him. His mother spoiled him, 
 when he was almost a baby, all because he wasn't 
 as strong as Jack ; but he'll never make a man 
 unless it's taken out of him, and I hope Mr. Duf- 
 ferin will do it," he added irascibly, as he freed 
 his mind by marching up and down the room in
 
 22 MARGARET DAVIS, TUTOR. 
 
 his favorite attitude, with the long skirts of his 
 dressing-gown drawn forward over his arms, and 
 his hands clasped in front of him. 
 
 It was plain that Grandpa Atherton was in a 
 bad humor. 
 
 In the meantime, Uncle Jerry had been hastily 
 collecting his thoughts. For a long time, he had 
 been convinced that Mr. Dufferin's rule, with its 
 unreasoning alternations of tyranny and indul- 
 gence, was as bad for wide-awake, mischievous Jack 
 as it was for sensitive Danforth. However, there 
 was no other good school within reach, so he had 
 held his peace and waited until some emergency 
 should bring him the opportunity to suggest his 
 long-cherished plan. The golden opportunity had 
 come ; but it would be no easy task to influence 
 Grandpa Atherton in his present mood. Uncle 
 Jerry felt that some concessions might be necessary. 
 
 " Yes," he agreed ; " Danforth is too sensitive, 
 too easily frightened, and unless he changes soon, 
 he never will bear the hard knocks he'll get, when 
 he goes into college. The worst of it is, he is 
 growing more and more so, with every day he's 
 under Mr. Dufferin." 
 
 "Needn't be such a baby, then," growled 
 Grandpa Atherton. " Look at Jack ! He's worth
 
 THE TWINS. 23 
 
 ten Danforths ; and he knows as much in a min- 
 ute as Danforth does in all day." 
 
 " Dan can't tell half he does know," said Uncle 
 Jerry. " He has a better mind than Jack ; but 
 Mr. Dufferin frightens it all out of him. Jack is 
 one of his favorites, and slips along easily ; but it 
 will spoil him the other way, and make him con- 
 ceited and headstrong before we know it." 
 
 "He has plenty of that, as 'tis," answered 
 Grandpa Atherton, with a short laugh. "But 
 even if Mr. Dufferin isn't the best man in the 
 world, what are you going to do about it ? There's 
 no better school in town." 
 
 " Why not hire a tutor ? " proposed his son, 
 with a promptness which suggested its coming 
 from no sudden impulse. 
 
 Grandpa Atherton frowned in thoughtful dis- 
 approval. In his young days, tutors were not so 
 common as they are now, and it took him a feAV 
 moments to accustom himself to the new idea. 
 
 " Well," he said at length ; " whom would you 
 have? I don't know of anybody." 
 
 "Neither do I," Uncle Jerry was beginning, 
 when he was interrupted by his father who had 
 forgotten to adjust his trumpet. 
 
 " What? " he demanded. " Begin again."
 
 24 MARGARET DAVIS, TUTOR. 
 
 " I said that I didn't know of anybody now," 
 repeated Uncle Jerry ; " but we could easily find 
 some one." 
 
 " How ? " Grandpa Atherton asked the ques- 
 tion with the air of having offered a poser. 
 
 " Advertise," responded his son. " Our best 
 way to get the kind of man we want, would be to 
 send right to one of the literary weeklies. There 
 are plenty of college men who would be glad to 
 take a position with us, for a few years, as resident 
 tutor for the children. What do you say about it, 
 mother?" he asked, turning with a gentle defer- 
 ence to address Grandma Atherton. 
 
 " If only it were not for his having to live here, 
 Jerry," she said doubtfully. 
 
 " But we might all of us enjoy that part of it, 
 mother," he urged quickly. " If he were a bright, 
 gentlemanly fellow, you and father wouldn't much 
 mind him, and he'd be good company for me, even- 
 ings. Perhaps I'd better advertise for one who 
 plays whist," he added, laughing. "Then we 
 could have our evening rubber without calling on 
 the children. Jack and Bobbie won't learn how 
 to play, so it all falls on poor Danforth who doesn't 
 dare tell how cordially he hates it." Then he 
 turned back to his father once more. " It would
 
 THE TWINS. 25 
 
 be so much better for the boys," he said persua- 
 sively ; " and it might be a good thing for Roberta. 
 The child isn't learning anything in that school 
 where she is, anything that's of any use to her, I 
 mean. They teach her a little German and a little 
 French, and some music and drawing, and a great 
 deal of society nonsense that she ought to know 
 nothing at all about, for years to come. If you 
 will agree to my plan, I'll save you any care about 
 the matter. I can't teach the children, myself, 
 for I haven't the time ; but, at least, with a tutor 
 right here in the house, I can see that he's doing 
 good work for them, and send him off, if he 
 isn't." 
 
 Nobody, least of all Gerald Atherton himself, 
 knew just how it was that Grandpa Atherton was 
 invariably brought around to his son's way of 
 thinking. No matter how much their opinions 
 might clash at first, the result was always the 
 same ; so it was no surprise to Grandma Atherton, 
 who had long ago been coaxed into agreeing with 
 her son, to hear her husband, at the end of a half- 
 hour's discussion, eagerly urging upon Gerald the 
 advisability of a tutor for the children, without 
 having the faintest doubt but that the suggestion 
 had originally come from himself.
 
 26 MARGARET DAVIS, TUTOR. 
 
 Then the children were called back into the 
 drawing-room, to hear the result of the conference. 
 The boys were to go back into school, for the rest 
 of the month, and were under strict bonds to be- 
 have themselves like gentlemen and Athertons; 
 while Danforth was ordered to make a public 
 apologj r to Mr. Dufferin for the mischief done by 
 his ball. When the first of October came, they 
 were all three to be taken out of school and put 
 in charge of a tutor, who should prepare the boys 
 for Yale and Bobbie for Smith. The news was 
 received with disgust by Jack, who was the 
 acknowledged leader of the school; with secret 
 misgivings by Danforth, who regarded it as only 
 the beginning of fresh troubles ; and with open 
 exultation by Roberta, for she hailed with delight 
 the prospect of abandoning her present rather old- 
 maidish teacher, since even thirteen years' experi- 
 ence of life had taught Miss Bobbie that one 
 sidelong glance of her roguish brown eyes could 
 bring to her feet the most obdurate of mankind. 
 
 So Uncle Jerry went away to write the letter, 
 and Grandma Atherton followed him, to make 
 sure that the library was not too warm, and that 
 his desk was in order. Grandpa Atherton was 
 soon deep in his paper, and the children were free
 
 THE TWINS. 27 
 
 to express their opinions upon the sudden change 
 in their prospects. 
 
 " Who wants a horrid old tutor around in the 
 way, all the time ? " grumbled Jack, in a low tone, 
 for Grandpa Atherton's ears were never so sharp 
 as when he was particularly desired not to over- 
 hear some mutinous remark. 
 
 "He can't be much worse than Duffy," said 
 Danforth uneasily; "and I'm glad to get out of 
 that school and start fresh. Duff thinks I'm a 
 fool and a sneak ; but maybe this new fellow will 
 give me some show." 
 
 But Bobbie could not forbear giving one little 
 frisk of sheer triumph. 
 
 "Don't worry, boys," she said saucily, as she 
 caught up her skirt in both hands and made a 
 sweeping courtesy, " I'll manage him for you ; you 
 needn't be afraid."
 
 CHAPTER II. 
 
 THE MESSAGE OF THE KOSES. 
 
 LATE the next Saturday afternoon, Margaret 
 Davis was walking home from a meeting of the 
 A. C. A. She had been unusually interested, for 
 there had been ^,n address by an earnest young 
 Englishman from Toynbee Hall, followed by a 
 discussion of the proper aims and employments oi 
 a college woman. Now she was thinking it over, 
 as she walked along the city streets, crowded with 
 the usual Saturday afternoon throng; and her face, 
 meanwhile, expressed a vague dissatisfaction either 
 with herself or her surroundings. At the post 
 office she stopped for a moment, to see if her favor- 
 ite weekly had come in, too late for the afternoon 
 delivery. When she came out on the steps again, 
 she held it in her hand and was eagerly running 
 her eye up and down over the delightful gossip 
 notes which close each number. Then, as she 
 folded it again, her glance rested upon the opposite 
 page. The next moment, her face lighted with a 
 
 28
 
 THE MESSAGE OF THE ROSES. 29 
 
 sudden thought and she nodded decisively to her- 
 self, as she quickened her pace towards home. 
 
 On the steps, she was rapturously received by a 
 shaggy black and tan collie who, rinding that his 
 low whines and taps on the door had failed to give 
 him admission to the house, had patiently settled 
 himself to await the coming of his mistress, that 
 he might go in with her. Now, from his vantage- 
 ground of the top step, he plunged forward upon 
 her, in all the fervor of his joy. 
 
 " There, there, Laddie ! " she exclaimed, as two 
 rough paws descended upon her two shoulders 
 with a precision of aim born only of long practice. 
 " Yes, I've come home. Was he glad to see me ? " 
 
 Laddie gave one short, sharp bark in reply ; then 
 he dropped back again and stood with the tip of 
 his nose pressed hard against the door, waiting to 
 push his way through the first crack which offered 
 itself. Once inside the house, he allowed his mis- 
 tress to take the lead, and went soberly trudging 
 after her up the stairs and into the large front 
 room, where Mrs. Davis and her other two daugh- 
 ters were trying to coerce the folds of a home- 
 made gown into looking as if they had just come 
 from a tailor. They glanced up expectantly as 
 Margaret burst in upon them, with all the breezy
 
 30 MAKGARET DAVIS, TUTOR. 
 
 energy developed by her long walk in the open 
 air. 
 
 " Oh, Peggy, I'm so glad you've come ! " ex- 
 claimed her younger sister, who was temporarily 
 acting as lay figure. " Can't you put this on for a 
 while ? I'm so tired of standing here." And she 
 cautiously stretched out her long arms and yawned. 
 
 " Do stand still, Molly," interposed her mother 
 hastily. " When you move, you throw these back 
 folds all out of place. This doesn't seem quite 
 right, though, Elinor," she added, turning to her 
 oldest daughter who was sitting on the floor, in a 
 sea of brown tissue paper and breadths of blue 
 serge. 
 
 " But it must be all right," said Elinor firmly. 
 " I've put it together just exactly like the pattern. 
 Peggy, do call Laddie away ! He will tear this 
 paper all to pieces, if he rolls on it. Now listen, 
 mother, while I read, and see if it isn't right. Let 
 me see." And she referred to the paper in her 
 hand, running her finger down along the closely- 
 printed sheet. " ' Cut the front gore with ' no, 
 it's the back we want. Here 'tis. ' Gather the 
 top of the back from the triple perforation to 
 the second notch from the middle, and apply it 
 to the belt, adjusting the fulness to fit the figure.'
 
 THE MESSAGE OF THE ROSES. 31 
 
 There, you see it is right," she concluded trium- 
 phantly. 
 
 "Perhaps you haven't adjusted the fulness to 
 fit the figure," suggested Margaret, who had 
 dropped into the nearest chair and was surveying 
 them with unmixed scorn. " Do you know," she 
 added, after a pause, "I'd rather never have a 
 new gown than go through such a performance 
 to get it." 
 
 " Nobody would ever doubt that who saw you," 
 answered Elinor, laughing in spite of herself, as 
 she rescued a half-finished sleeve from Laddie's 
 mouth. "You are chronically out at elbows. 
 Now, I'd rather have a few more gowns and make 
 them myself, instead of putting all my money into 
 dressmakers." 
 
 "I wouldn't though," returned Margaret placidly, 
 while she took off her hat and ran her fingers 
 through her front hair. " It takes more brains to 
 puzzle out a paper pattern than it does to write a 
 book. Some day I may want to use my mind, you 
 know, and then I should be so disappointed to find 
 that it had all gone into my clothes. I'm willing 
 to live on one frock a year, if it's necessary ; but I 
 positively decline to make that one." She \v;is 
 silent for a moment; then she said coaxingly,
 
 32 MARGARET DAVIS, TUTOR. 
 
 "Mammy dear, let that old gown go, and come 
 into my room for a talk. I know you're tired 
 enough now, and it's too dark for you to see much 
 longer. Besides, I want to consult you about a 
 new idea I have." 
 
 " What is it, a treatise on ancient history, or an 
 entertainment for your boys' club? It's sure to be 
 something stupid," observed Molly, with all the 
 pertness of sweet sixteen. 
 
 "Neither, this time," answered Margaret good- 
 naturedly. " Mother can tell you by and by, when 
 she's ready." And throwing an arm about her 
 mother's waist, she drew her away into her own 
 room and put her into a chair by the window. 
 Then, hat in hand, she dropped down on the side 
 of the bed, where she sat silent, as if not knowing 
 how to proceed. 
 
 " Well ? " said her mother interrogatively. 
 
 "I know it," answered Margaret irrelevantly; 
 " but " She hesitated. 
 
 " What is it, Peggy ? " her mother asked again. 
 
 Something in the old-time name and in the 
 motherly tone gave Margaret courage, and she 
 said, with an odd little catch in her breath, 
 
 "Mammy dear, may I go away for a few 
 months ? "
 
 THE MESSAGE OF THE ROSES. 33 
 
 Mrs. Davis's face fell ; she had been dreading 
 the day when this should come. For the past few 
 months, she had seen that Margaret was growing 
 restless, as if the daily routine of home life were 
 pressing too closely about her and cramping her. 
 A change would be good for the girl; and yet, 
 bright, tempestuous, impulsive Margaret was her 
 favorite child, the one who entered most deeply 
 into her mother's life. How could she give her 
 up ? A whole battle was fought and won, in the 
 silence which followed Margaret's question. Then 
 Mrs. Davis said gently, 
 
 " If it is really best for you, Peggy, I could let 
 you go. What is it you want to do ? " 
 
 "It's this." And Margaret thrust the paper 
 into her mother's hand. 
 
 " You'll have to read it to me," Mrs. Davis said ; 
 "I haven't my glasses on." She was perfectly 
 well aware that her glasses were lying in her 
 pocket, but her eyes had grown too dim to allow 
 her to use them. 
 
 "It's only an advertisement I saw to-day," 
 said Margaret more quietly. Then she read, 
 " Wanted, a resident tutor for a family in New 
 Hampshire. Must be a college graduate, Yale pre- 
 ferred. For particulars, address G-. A., care of
 
 34 MARGARET DAVIS, TUTOR. 
 
 . May I try to get the place, mammy, just 
 
 for this one year ? " 
 
 " But it says ' Yale preferred,' " answered her 
 mother, vainly clinging to this one hope. 
 
 ft Yes, I know ; but our degrees are as good as 
 Yale's. I have my A. M. too, and that would be 
 a help; besides, I can refer to ever so many of 
 the professors here. I know the chances are 
 against me, but I do want to try." And Margaret 
 paused expectantly. 
 
 "Why is it that you want to go, dear? " asked 
 Mrs. Davis. "Can't you be happy, here at 
 home?" 
 
 Margaret dropped down on the floor at her 
 mother's feet, and rested her chin on her hands. 
 
 " I am happy here," she said slowly ; " very 
 happy ; but can't you understand it, mammy ? 
 I want to try my wings. I've been at home 
 for four years now, ever since I was graduated ; 
 and it's time I took a year of work, if only to 
 prove that I can do something useful, if I try. 
 Besides, I'm getting tired of being snubbed as a 
 do-nothing. Every new member that comes into 
 our A. C. A. asks me if I'm not teaching, and 
 when I confess that I'm not, she looks at me 
 reproachfully and says, ' Of course, then, you're
 
 THE MESSAGE OF THE KOSES. 35 
 
 studying here at Yale.' When they find that I'm 
 a mere cumberer of the ground, they turn their 
 backs upon me, only," she added, with a little 
 laugh; "they waggle their heads and point all 
 their morals at me, when they discuss the proper 
 relation of college women to the community. And 
 then I want to taste the sweets of independence. 
 I'd like to be able to be rashly extravagant, once 
 in a while, and not have to decide whether I'd 
 forego the next symphony concert, or wear my 
 old gloves a month longer." 
 
 " You can easily have a larger allowance, Mar- 
 garet," her mother was beginning ; but Margaret 
 interrupted her, 
 
 " Truly, it isn't that, at all. I want to feel that 
 I'm really earning my own money, not living on 
 what you give me. But that is only a half-reason. 
 Back of it all, I am getting a little uneasy and 
 want a change. I'm fond of children and always 
 get on well with them, so no work could be pleas- 
 anter. It would only be for this one year, and 
 that is such a tiny little bit of a time." 
 
 "But how could I let you go?" And Mrs. 
 Davis looked regretfully down into the eager face 
 before her. 
 
 "That's just it. If you really needed me, I
 
 36 MARGARET DAVIS, TUTOR. 
 
 wouldn't say a word; but you have Elinor and 
 Molly to do the ' useful and ornamental for you, 
 and I'm the extra one. Of course, if you truly 
 disapprove, I'll give it up at once and forever." 
 Margaret tried to speak bravely; but the uncon- 
 scious change in her tone showed how her heart 
 was set upon this sudden desire. 
 
 That settled the matter; and after a long talk 
 too full of mother-love to be set down here for 
 stranger eyes to read, Margaret seated herself at 
 her little oak desk, to write a formal letter of ap- 
 plication to the unknown G. A. of the adver- 
 tisement. 
 
 " It's rather awful to have to make an inventory 
 of one's personal attractions and mental attain- 
 ments," she said to herself, as she abstractedly 
 inked the nose of the grotesque face carved in the 
 top of her desk. " I do hope I haven't been self- 
 ish ; but I really don't think I'm needed here, and 
 I do want to go. I don't believe mother cares 
 much." 
 
 How much her mother cared, Margaret never 
 knew. 
 
 Great was the dismay of her sisters, half an hour 
 later, when Margaret came in Avith her hat on, and 
 announced that she had just been out to mail a
 
 THE MESSAGE OF THE ROSES. 37 
 
 letter, asking for a tutor's position in a strange 
 family. 
 
 "If that isn't just like Margaret," groaned 
 Elinor; "to take up with every new whim that 
 comes into her head ! Do you realize, Margaret 
 Davis, that you'll be nothing more than an upper 
 servant, or a nurse-maid? You'll have to live in 
 one or two little tucked-up rooms, and to eat at 
 second table, and play for dancing when they have 
 company ? How are you going to like that ? " 
 
 Margaret's face fell. This was a new view of 
 the case to her, and it was not an encouraging one. 
 
 " Well, you needn't be alarmed," said Molly, 
 who had possessed herself of the paper and was 
 studying the advertisement. "It's a man they 
 want, and he must be from Yale, so Margaret 
 won't stand any chance of getting it. I hope she 
 won't, either," she added, as she threw the paper 
 across the floor. " What will the girls at school 
 say, when they know my sister has gone out as 
 nursery governess ? " 
 
 " Is it girls or boys ? " asked Elinor. 
 
 " I don't much care," answered Margaret, catch- 
 ing up the paper again, to hide her annoyance at 
 Elinor's tone of disapproval. " I like them both ; 
 but it is probably boys. I shouldn't think they'd
 
 38 MARGARET DAVIS, TUTOR. 
 
 want a Yale graduate for a girl. Dear me, I wish 
 they would hurry and answer my^ letter ! I am so 
 afraid it will be the kind of a place that I don't 
 want to take." 
 
 "But what about Laddie?" inquired Molly 
 suddenly. " Even if you don't mind leaving us, I 
 shouldn't think you could stand it to be away from 
 him." 
 
 And Laddie, as if to add his voice to the general 
 remonstrance, rose, walked slowly across to Mar- 
 garet's side and laid his nose in her lap, with a 
 profound sigh. 
 
 "It's too bad of you, Molly, to talk in that 
 way," protested Margaret. "You know it isn't 
 
 x 
 
 because I want to leave you; but well, mother 
 understands," she added desperately, as she bent 
 over to stroke the head in her lap. " But what's 
 the tfse of talking about it any more ? Most likely 
 they won't want me at all, and we shall have had 
 this tempest in a teapot all for nothing. Come, 
 Laddie, we must go and smooth down our ruffled 
 plumages before dinner." And she escaped to her 
 own room, leaving her mother to defend her course 
 and quiet her sisters' objections. 
 
 No one who knew Margaret Davis would ever 
 have thought of her as the victim of an unhappy
 
 THE MESSAGE OF THE ROSES. 39 
 
 
 
 love affair ; yet she had known her one little 
 romance, and now, at twenty-five, she regarded 
 that side of life as being ended for her. It was 
 one of those vexatious little mistakes for which 
 neither one is at all responsible, but which appar- 
 ently destroy the happiness of two people, and 
 send them drifting far apart just at the moment 
 when they are about to come together for life. 
 
 The second winter ^f ter she left college, Mar- 
 garet had met a young electrician, with whom she 
 quickly formed an easy, off-hand friendship. They 
 were in the same whist club and the same oratorio 
 society, they attended the same church and were 
 invited to the same parties ; so, long before the 
 season was over, they had come to depend upon 
 their frequent meetings, although as yet the 
 thought of love had not come to either one of them; 
 They had the same tastes and the same interests, 
 that was all, and they enjoyed coming together and 
 talking over their doings and their plans. But 
 this state of affairs could not last indefinitely, and 
 before the second winter was over, it had become 
 evident to every one that matters were growing 
 serious for both Margaret and Mr. Thornton. 
 
 Mrs. Davis was quite content, for the young 
 man's character and family were all that she
 
 40 MARGARET DAVIS, TUTOR. 
 
 
 
 could desire. Moreover, he had a good salary, 
 and Margaret would some day have a little money 
 of her own, so that question need not stand in the 
 way of a prompt engagement. 
 
 Then came the end, so suddenly and unexpect- 
 edly that the friends who were only watching for 
 the time to offer their congratulations, knew not 
 what to think. It was during the previous win- 
 ter, just before Lent, when- city life is always at 
 its gayest, that Hugh Thornton came, one after- 
 noon, to call on Margaret. Just what he said to 
 her was never known ; but Molly, who inoppor- 
 tunely appeared to them in the parlor, saw him 
 hastily start up from her sister's side, as he said, 
 with an evident effort to act as if nothing unusual 
 had occurred, 
 
 " Very well, Miss Davis, I shall see you to-mor- 
 row night, at Mrs. Sutherland's, and we'll finish 
 our talk there." And he had gone away, leaving 
 Margaret in a strange state of excitement and 
 elation. 
 
 The next day, Margaret had received a large 
 box of flowers, but she had hunted in vain through 
 and through their fragrant masses, for the card 
 which should be there. She was sure they were 
 sent by Hugh Thornton, and she longed to carry
 
 THE MESSAGE OF THE ROSES. 41 
 
 some of them to the reception that evening ; but 
 she dared not do so, for fear they might chance to 
 come from some other friend. Still, it was with 
 happy anticipations that she dressed herself, that 
 night, for she knew so well the nature of the talk 
 which she and Hugh were to finish, and she felt 
 that it could have but the one ending. 
 
 However, the evening proved to be one of bitter 
 disappointment. As she stood at her mother's 
 side, responding vaguely to the greetings of her 
 hostess, she had glanced quickly about the room 
 until she caught sight of Hugh's face looking 
 steadfastly at her from a distant doorway, with 
 a strangely downcast, questioning expression. It 
 was only for a moment; then she lost sight of 
 him, and during all the rest of the evening, she 
 waited in vain for him to join her. Hurt and 
 annoyed, she covered her feelings as well as she 
 could, and talked and laughed as usual, while the 
 time slowly dragged away until she could go home 
 and hurry to her room. 
 
 There on the table lay an envelope addressed to 
 her. She snatched it up and tore it open, sure that 
 it must in some way explain Hugh's strange behavior 
 of the evening. It only contained a note from the 
 florist, saying that the enclosed card had been acci-
 
 42 MARGARET DAVIS, TUTOR. 
 
 dentally omitted from the box which he had sent her 
 that morning. In a dazed fashion, Margaret stooped 
 to pick up the card which had fallen to the floor 
 at her feet, and turned it over and over, staring 
 at it as if slow to read its meaning. Below the 
 name was written, " Carry some of these roses this 
 evening, and I shall know what your answer will 
 be." Then she understood it all. Two days 
 later, the papers announced that Hugh Thornton 
 had resigned his position and gone to New York. 
 Margaret's romance was ended. 
 
 It was not like Margaret to make any demon- 
 stration of her sorrow ; in fact, she never once 
 alluded to it. As spring came on, she grew a little 
 thinner and paler; but, to all appearances, she was 
 the same bright Margaret they had always seen. 
 Her mother knew better ; but even she was igno- 
 rant of the nights when Margaret lay awake and 
 lived over and over again the happiness of the past 
 winter. But brave as the girl was in making the 
 best of it and trying to forget, the wound still re- 
 mained, and she often longed to go away for a time, 
 to drop out of the associations with the past, into 
 a new life where all was fresh and untried. For 
 weeks this feeling had been growing upon her, 
 when she came upon Gerald Atherton's advertise-
 
 THE MESSAGE OF THE ROSES. 43 
 
 ment for a tutor, and she hailed it as an offer of 
 escape, little dreaming that it was the first thread 
 of the new web which the fates were weaving for 
 her life. 
 
 By the next morning Margaret had persuaded 
 herself that she had done a foolish thing in offer- 
 ing her services for a position which was so evi- 
 dently designed for a man; and she regretted her 
 letter of application which could only bring her 
 the mortification of a prompt refusal. So sure was 
 she of the truth of her new view of the matter 
 that, when the postman stopped at the door, four 
 days later, and handed her, among others, a letter 
 addressed to herself in a plain, legal hand, she 
 opened her other mail first, before she had the curi- 
 osity, or the courage to examine the one which was 
 to decide her fate. When at last she took it up, she 
 turned it over and over, as if trying to gain, from 
 the outside, some idea of its contents. It was a 
 square, thick letter, written on heavy paper of a 
 bluish tint, and the flap of the envelope bore a tiny 
 crest in blue. 
 
 " I don't like crests, here in America," she said 
 to herself critically ; " I think they're snobbish ; 
 but the writing is plain and refined, without any 
 flourishes. That's one comfort."
 
 44 MARGARET DAVIS, TUTOR. 
 
 Deliberately she cut the envelope and opened 
 the letter within. Then, as her eye ran down over 
 the first page, she gave a little gasp of surprise. 
 Instead of the curt refusal which she had expected, 
 the letter contained a cordial acceptance of her 
 application, with the offer of a salary so generous 
 as to make her almost doubt the reality of the 
 whole affair. For a moment, she stood gazing at 
 the letter in her hand, as if expecting to see it sud- 
 denly vanish from before her eyes ; then she rushed 
 excitedly into her mother's room, exclaiming, 
 
 " Rejoice with me, mammy ! The fates are pro- 
 pitious, and G. A. wants me as much as I want 
 him." 
 
 The hurry and excitement of the next ten days 
 of preparation were broken by two more letters 
 from Mr. Atherton, letters so friendly in their tone 
 as to remove even Elinor's doubts in regard to the 
 position which her sister was to take. Then, be- 
 fore Margaret realized that she was going out from 
 her old home corner, the farewells were said, and 
 she found herself seated in the train which was 
 rushing away northward, to meet the new life be- 
 fore her. 
 
 During her five-hour ride, Margaret had plenty 
 of time to think of the future. The past few days
 
 THE MESSAGE OF THE ROSES. 45 
 
 had been so full, that she had only lived in the 
 present ; but now, as she realized that she had 
 suddenly started out into the world upon her own 
 account, she had a momentary longing to take the 
 first south-bound train which she met. But she 
 laughed at herself for her inconsistency, and 
 busied herself in arranging her umbrella and 
 wraps to her liking. Then she opened her bag 
 and took out the letters she had received from her 
 future employer. 
 
 " Gerald Atherton isn't a bad sort of name," she 
 said to herself ; " but, as Molly says, he's probably 
 a fussy old bachelor of sixty-five or so. I do hope 
 the children won't be too sinful. They evidently 
 don't mean to make a servant of me, for Mr. Ath- 
 erton says he decided to take me, instead of 
 that Yale '89 man, because I'd be such a pleasant 
 companion for his mother. Wonder how he knows, 
 for I'm not always so pleasant. I suppose I must 
 wait till I see his lordship before I can find out 
 anything more." 
 
 Then, with one last glance out at the Hanging 
 Hills lying blue in the early afternoon sunshine, she 
 settled herself to the new Century and forgot all 
 that was passing around her, until the twilight 
 forced her to abandon her book and fall to musing 
 again
 
 46 MARGARET DAVIS, TUTOR. 
 
 The darkness had quite fallen when the train 
 stopped at the little city where Mr. Atherton had 
 agreed to meet her; but, as she stepped out on 
 the platform she saw the dim outline of a rugged 
 mountain rising close at hand, and heard the dull 
 roar of the river, as it thundered over the falls, 
 a thousand feet away. A moment later, Gerald 
 Atherton stood before her, hat in hand. 
 
 " Miss Davis, I think? " he said questioningly. 
 " I am Mr. Atherton. If you'll give me your 
 checks I'll hand them to an expressman, and then 
 take you across to the carriage." 
 
 With a momentary feeling of pity and dismay, 
 Margaret's eyes had rested upon the little figure 
 before her. However, as she met his smile, she 
 forgot all that; and she answered with perfect 
 ease to his kindly inquiries about her journey, 
 while Mr. Atherton led the way across the plat- 
 form to a low, open carriage, with a coachman in 
 plain green livery on the front seat, helped Mar- 
 garet to her place and seated himself by her side. 
 Then, as they drove away, he asked if she had 
 received his last letter, and went on to tell her 
 more of the family life to which she was so soon 
 to be introduced. 
 
 " I thought if you didn't care," he added ; " that
 
 THE MESSAGE OF THE liOSES. 47 
 
 it would be better not to have the lessons begin 
 until next week. That will give you two or three 
 days to get acquainted with the children, before 
 you have to take charge of them." 
 
 " They are your sister's children, I think," said 
 Margaret. "Two boys and one girl, you said, 
 didn't you ? " 
 
 " Yes ; they are good children, too," answered 
 Mr. Atherton quickly. " I hope they won't make 
 you any trouble. They weren't getting much 
 good at school, so I thought it would be better to 
 have a change. Jack and Roberta are bright, 
 wide-awake children, perhaps a little too self- 
 willed ; but I fancy that your greatest care will 
 be with poor Danforth." 
 
 " Why so ? " asked Margaret, a little puzzled at 
 his way of alluding to his nephew. 
 
 " Don't be alarmed." And he smiled at her 
 evident fear. "Dan is one of the dearest and best 
 fellows in the world ; but he's a sensitive boy that 
 we all have to handle with gloves. He is the real 
 cause of your coming here. Jack would have 
 done well enough in school ; but Danforth was 
 constantly in disgrace, for his teacher had no 
 mercy on his weak points, and simply bullied 
 the life out of him. If it had gone on much
 
 48 MARGARET DAVIS, TUTOR. 
 
 longer, he would have been so discouraged that 
 he would have given up trying to amount to 
 anything. I think you'll be sorry for the boy, 
 Miss Davis, and I hope you'll like him. If you 
 do, you will have no trouble, for while he has a 
 will of his own and can't be driven an inch, he 
 can be led anywhere. If he trusts you as a friend, 
 you can do what you please with him. Forgive 
 my speaking so plainly," he added ; " but I am 
 fond of Danforth, and I wanted you to understand 
 him from the first. Strangers always take to Jack, 
 for he's a good-looking boy; and Danforth steps 
 into the background, as a matter of course. But 
 there are the home lights, on that hill ahead of 
 us, and I am glad, for I can see that you are very 
 tired." 
 
 They had driven rapidly through the city streets 
 and across a long covered bridge which throbbed 
 with the rushing of the water beneath ; then they 
 turned into a narrow country road, which ran 
 along, close to the base of the shadowy mountain. 
 A mile up the valley, they turned abruptly, wound 
 up a steep hillside and stopped at the steps of a 
 great brick house with a broad, hospitable porch 
 over the front door, and a bright shaft of light 
 shining out from the fanlight above it. Before
 
 THE MESSAGE OF THE ROSES. 49 
 
 the carriage had fairly stopped, Mr. Atherton had 
 leaped out and offered his hand to Margaret. 
 
 " Come in," he said hospitably ; " my mother is 
 waiting to welcome you." 
 
 Feeling as if she were in a dream, Margaret 
 followed him into the wide hall which ran through 
 the middle of the house. She had just time to 
 give a passing glance at the paneled walls, the 
 quaintly-carved banisters, the ancient settees ranged 
 along the side wall and the marble Cupid on its 
 ebony pedestal in the corner ; then she found her- 
 self upon the threshold of the drawing-room, with 
 a beautiful old lady coming forward to meet her. 
 It needed but one look at the trim, upright fig- 
 ure, at the sweet face, with its white curls sur- 
 mounted with a tiny square of choice old lace, 
 to assure Margaret that this was the mother of 
 whom Mr. Atherton had spoken so often and so 
 lovingly. A second look told her that the faces 
 of mother and son were much alike, both in feature 
 and expression. 
 
 "You are welcome, Miss Davis," Grandma 
 Atherton said gently ; then, as she looked at the 
 fresh young face before her, she suddenly forgot 
 her more formal greeting and, leaning forward, 
 she pressed her lips to Margaret's cheek, in a
 
 50 MARGARET DAVIS, TUTOR. 
 
 motherly caress, while she added, " I hope you 
 may be very happy here with us, my dear." 
 
 The rest of the evening was always a vague 
 dream to Margaret. Already she found herself 
 reacting from the excitement of the past two 
 weeks, and she felt strangely tired and dull. She 
 knew that she was introduced to deaf old Grandpa 
 Atherton; she knew that the children were 
 brought forward and presented to her, and she 
 
 % 
 
 realized gratefully that kind Grandma Atherton 
 and Gerald were trying to make her feel at home ; 
 but as soon as she could, she excused herself, and 
 asked to be shown the way to her room. 
 
 Grandma Atherton went with her, to see that all 
 was in order ; then, when the last good-night was 
 said and the door had closed behind her hostess, 
 Margaret dropped into the nearest chair and stared 
 blankly about her, trying to realize the sudden 
 change in her surroundings. She looked at the 
 unopened trunks, at the high mahogany bedstead 
 with its graceful canopy and soft white draperies, 
 irresistibly reminding her of an altar raised to the 
 god of sleep; and, for one short moment, she had 
 a twinge of homesickness, the first and the last 
 which she was ever to know in that house. 
 
 " I wish mother and Elinor could see me now,"
 
 THE MESSAGE OF THE HOSES. 51 
 
 she thought to herself a little later, as, after one 
 or two vain attempts to climb into bed, she drew 
 up a chair and stepped into that, preparatory to 
 mounting higher. "I don't believe they would 
 feel so sorry for me, and say I was to be a nurse- 
 maid. There ! " she added, as she finished her 
 toilsome ascent and lay down among the feathers, 
 which surged high about her ; " if this is a sample 
 of the bed I've made, I'm perfectly 'willing to lie 
 in it if only I don't smother before morning." 
 And in another five minutes, she had drifted away 
 into a quiet, restful sleep, only broken by happy 
 dreams that once more she and Hugh had met.
 
 CHAPTER III. 
 
 NEW FRIENDS. 
 
 BOBBIE and the boys were unusually prompt in 
 answering the summons to breakfast, the next 
 morning. As a rule, it was no easy matter to get 
 them up in time for the meal. Little short of an 
 earthquake could rouse Bobbie from her sound 
 sleep of healthy childhood; and Jack had an 
 exasperating fashion of answering, " Yes, we're 
 'most ready," to the maid who rapped at his door, 
 and then rolling over and falling to sleep again, 
 while Danf orth dozed away, in happy unconscious- 
 ness of any interruption to his dreams. However, 
 curiosity is often a powerful stimulant ; and, on 
 this particular morning, the children were gath- 
 ered in the dining-room fully half an hour before 
 the breakfast-bell. 
 
 " She isn't so bad for a woman," Jack was say- 
 ing, with infinite condescension. " I don't see 
 what struck Uncle Jerry to take her, when he
 
 NEW FRIENDS. 53 
 
 started for a man ; but there's one good thing, we 
 shall have an easier time of it." 
 
 " Don't be too sure," counselled Bobbie sagely. 
 "Miss Pond was ever so much worse than Mr. 
 Dufferin. She used to scold us, 'most every day." 
 
 " You most likely needed it oftener than we 
 did," suggested Danforth unkindly. " I never 
 noticed that Duffy was any too mild; did you, 
 Jack ? I like the looks of Miss Davis, though." 
 
 " She isn't really pretty," said Bobbie critically. 
 " Her mouth is too large, and her nose is sort of 
 puggy. I think it must be her gown that makes 
 her look so well ; that makes all the difference in 
 the world." And this acute observer of woman- 
 kind smoothed down her brown camel's-hair, with 
 perfect content. 
 
 " Trust a girl for knowing all about clothes ! " 
 said Jack scornfully. " I don't know a thing she 
 had on ; but I think she's pretty, and she looks as 
 if she had some fun in her. She can't be worse 
 than Duffy, at any rate, and I believe we're going 
 to like her." 
 
 In the meantime, the subject of these remarks 
 was already stirring in her own room. Her long 
 night's sleep had left her feeling rested and re- 
 freshed ; and as she stood before the mirror, braid-
 
 54 MARGARET DAVIS, TUTOR. 
 
 ing her yellow hair, she felt fully prepared to 
 enter upon her new duties. When she finished 
 dressing, she crossed the room and stood by the 
 open window, gazing down the valley before her, 
 at the lovely views of hill and river, and at the 
 white smoke which hung over the city across the 
 water that went bubbling and foaming and rush- 
 ing over the rocks in the ravine, close at her feet. 
 Captain Atherton had made a wise choice when 
 he selected the site for his house. It stood alone 
 upon a little bluff commanding the valley and 
 the group of simpler houses clustered about the 
 foot of the hill ; and it reminded Margaret of 
 the castle of an old feudal lord, surrounded by 
 the houses of his vassals. 
 
 But the breakfast-bell rang to call her from the 
 picture ; so she turned away and slowly went 
 down the stairs to the dining-room. It was a fine 
 old room, with its great open fireplace, its oak fur- 
 niture dark with age, the rare line engravings on 
 the wall, and the table, covered with its snowy 
 cloth and set with the finest old blue china, not 
 an odd piece here and there, but a complete ser- 
 vice of arching bridges and kissing swallows. 
 Grandma Atherton was already in her place 
 behind the huge silver coffee-urn which had done
 
 NEW FRIENDS. 55 
 
 duty for four generations of Athertons ; but 
 Grandpa Atherton was still lingering before the 
 fire, toasting himself until the room was filled 
 with the odor of singeing wool. 
 
 No one who looked at Grandpa Atherton would 
 have thought him the descendant of one of the 
 oldest and best of New Hampshire's fine old 
 families, which traced its ancestry to the May- 
 flower and across the seas into England. At a 
 first glance, he was not imposing; in fact,. 'he 
 bordered upon the ridiculous. He had been tall 
 and straight, in his early manhood, with a proud, 
 clear-cut face under a mass of dark brown hair ; 
 but old age had left many a mark upon his face 
 and figure, while the brown hair had fallen away 
 until the crown of his head was as bare and 
 smooth as a sheet of ice, and only gained an 
 artificial covering by the long locks over his ears, 
 which were drawn up to meet above, and care- 
 fully braided into a little close knot. 
 
 Moreover, Grandpa Atherton had a strong affec- 
 tion for long-tailed, flowered dressing-gowns of gor- 
 geous tints, which he wore continually, both at home 
 and upon the street, and only laid aside on Sunday 
 for the short hour when he was in church. Added 
 to this was his extreme deafness, and his invariable
 
 56 MARGARET DAVIS, TUTOR. 
 
 habit of forgetting his ear-trumpet until the con- 
 versation was well under way, when he would break 
 in upon the full tide of argument, and remorse- 
 lessly force the speakers to begin again at the very 
 beginning and repeat it all to him, bit by bit. 
 
 Quick-tempered and tyrannical as Grandpa 
 Atherton certainly was at times, he was honor- 
 able and just to the last degree ; and was more- 
 over, though unknown to himself, ruled and 
 guided by the lightest word of his one living 
 child. What Gerald said and thought and did, 
 was to Grandpa Atherton the only right thing to 
 say and think and do. Unfortunately he was not 
 of the same mind in regard to his grandsons. 
 It had been very hard for Grandpa Atherton to 
 give up the traditions of his own boyhood, and 
 adopt the more progressive point of view of 
 Young America ; and he had only partially suc- 
 ceeded in doing so. And yet, in spite of himself 
 he was often moved to a quick admiration for 
 Jack's spirit and independence, even though their 
 wills constantly clashed. At heart he was con- 
 scious that Jack was his favorite; and he could 
 never explain his son's liking for Danforth, whose 
 shy sensitiveness was a source of continual irri- 
 tation to Grandpa Atherton's mind.
 
 NEW FRIENDS. 57 
 
 As Margaret took her place at the table between 
 Grandma Atherton and her son, she was both 
 amused and slightly embarrassed to find herself 
 under the close scrutiny of three pairs of eyes ; 
 for the children, just across the table from her, 
 appeared to be bent upon determining what sort 
 of a person this was, who was to have the charge 
 of them. But, little by little, they became inter- 
 ested in their breakfast, and in the talk which 
 was going on about the table, until at length 
 Margaret could take her turn to study them, 
 unobserved. Bobbie who sat directly opposite, 
 had a dark, pretty little face and an eager, wide- 
 awake manner peculiarly her own. She was never 
 shy, and there was a bright decision in her ways 
 which was as amusing as was her ready indepen- 
 dence of thought and speech. 
 
 From Bobbie, Margaret's eyes moved to her two 
 brothers, seated one on either side of her. To 
 Jack she was attracted at once, and it was not long 
 before they were exchanging smiles and an occa- 
 sional word or two across the table. Jack looked at 
 least a year the older of the brothers, for he was 
 more strongly built, a sturdy, rollicking boy of iif- 
 teen who appeared to be on excellent terms with 
 the world and all that was therein. He was an un-
 
 58 MARGARET DAVIS, TUTOR. 
 
 usually handsome boy, with a rich, dark beauty that 
 told of abundant health and activity, as if he were 
 the child of a more tropical region, who had but 
 lately strayed to rugged New Hampshire. There 
 was a strong resemblance between Jack and his 
 sister, while Danforth, at Bobbie's other hand, 
 looked like the child of another race. Though as 
 tall as Jack, he was much slighter and more deli- 
 cate looking, graceful in figure and refined in face, 
 although without a hint of Jack's proud beauty. 
 His freckled, oval face, with its straight, closely- 
 cut yellow hair and thin red lips, was only saved 
 from being actually plain by a pair of dark violet 
 eyes, which looked deprecatingly out upon the 
 world from behind a pair of round-eyed, gold-bowed 
 spectacles. These spectacles were at once the woe 
 and the joy of Danforth's soul. Six months before, 
 Uncle Jerry, after watching the boy for a few 
 weeks, had carried him off to a New York ocu- 
 list who had proclaimed him abnormally near- 
 sighted, and had promptly put him into glasses. 
 It had been a wise measure ; but Danforth was 
 even now unable to decide whether his present 
 ease of vision was enough to balance the mortifica- 
 tion of having to go back to school, on his return, 
 and answer to the manifold questions and com-
 
 NEW FRIENDS. 59 
 
 ments of the boys. But after Jack had valiantly 
 cuffed the first two or three of these who had ven- 
 tured to express their disapproval, Danforth was 
 left in peace once more, except for the occasional 
 teasing of Bobbie, who declared that she would 
 never forgive him for making such a grandmother 
 of himself. 
 
 " Now, children," said Uncle Jerry, as they rose 
 from the table, " I leave Miss Davis in your care 
 to-day, and you must see that she isn't homesick. 
 Let her get acquainted with you and with the 
 place here ; and then, next week, you can begin 
 your lessons." 
 
 " All right. What would you like to do first, 
 Miss Davis ? " inquired Jack comprehensively. 
 
 *' Everything, all at once," she answered, with a 
 gay little laugh which promptly ranged Jack upon 
 her side. 
 
 " Then come out and see our ponies ; and Dan 
 and I have a fine trapeze under the shed. Do you 
 like athletics ? " 
 
 " That depends," she replied, much amused by 
 the boy's eager friendliness. "I don't do much 
 but skate and play tennis, though I did bring a 
 pair of Indian clubs with me. But I know enough 
 to keep a score-card at a ball-game."
 
 60 MARGARET DAVIS, TUTOR. 
 
 "Honestly?" And Jack stared at his new tutor 
 with undisguised admiration. Then he went on, 
 with striking frankness, "Why, I don't see but 
 you're about as good as the Yale man that wanted 
 to come. Dan and I were no end disappointed 
 when Uncle Jerry didn't take him ; but if you care 
 for such things, you'll be just as well. We'll show 
 you how to perform on the trapeze, and you can 
 do it just as easy as anything." 
 
 " Oh, Jack," interrupted Bobbie ; " do stop talk- 
 ing such nonsense. Miss Davis doesn't want to 
 go gymnasticating with you ; she'd much rather see 
 the house and the old pictures ; wouldn't you, Miss 
 Davis?" 
 
 For a moment, Margaret hesitated ; then she re- 
 flected that Jack's frankly-offered friendship was 
 not to be thrown away, so she answered, 
 
 " Jack spoke first, Bobbie ; so suppose we all go 
 with him now. We can see the house later, for I 
 truly do want to go over it," she added kindly, as 
 she saw Bobbie's disappointed face. 
 
 " Ah ha, Bob ; you've lost your innings ! " said 
 Jack triumphantly. "Come on, Miss Davis." 
 And he led the way out to the lawn in front of 
 the house, with Margaret following close at his 
 side.
 
 NEW FRIENDS. 61 
 
 It was hard to say just wherein lay Margaret's 
 attraction for children. Perhaps it came from her 
 perfect understanding of them, her perfect sympa- 
 thy with them and with their interests. She was 
 rarely conscious of making any effort to meet them 
 upon their own ground, or of trying to gain any 
 control over them; and yet, wherever she went, 
 she was usually surrounded by a flock of children, 
 and was the central figure in all their fun. 
 
 "Margaret is just like Castoria," Molly used 
 to say ; " children all cry for her." 
 
 Margaret herself often regretted her lack of 
 dignity. At twenty-five she was at heart as much 
 a girl as she had been at sixteen, and nothing but 
 the consciousness of her quarter of a century kept 
 her from indulging in all sorts of school-girl 
 pranks. Nevertheless, her child friends never 
 took liberties with her. They treated her like 
 one of themselves, yet far above themselves, and 
 her simple, " I wouldn't do so, dear," outweighed 
 many a parental lecture. 
 
 Children are close critics of us older people, quick 
 to see through sham dignity and false standards of 
 right and wrong ; and if any one of us is able to bear 
 the test of their searching scrutiny and come out 
 of it with their respect and love, we may feel that
 
 62 MARGARET DAVIS, TUTOR. 
 
 we have gained one of the honors of the earth. 
 They have their own standards, and they weigh 
 us by them. If we pass their examination, and 
 once win their friendship, we find it true and 
 lasting. 
 
 Jack had been the first to feel Margaret's 
 charm. During the past week, he had become 
 somewhat resigned to the idea of a tutor, since 
 it could not fail to give him greater freedom than 
 he had known in school where, though he had 
 been a favorite with Mr. Dufferin, he had hated 
 him cordially for his injustice to his more timid 
 brother. His one regret, that Margaret was not a 
 man, had quickly vanished at her coming ; and by 
 the time breakfast was over, that morning, he was 
 ready to swear allegiance to this bright-faced 
 little woman who had met his advances so warmly. 
 There was a Hearty sincerity about the boy, which 
 Margaret liked, and she had felt attracted to him 
 at the first; so it seemed perfectly natural that 
 they should stroll off across the lawn together, 
 talking like old friends, while Bobbie and Dan- 
 forth followed them at a little distance. 
 
 " Here's Bobbie's swing," Jack was saying, as 
 they paused under a great arching elm ; " and 
 over there, on that bank, we had a toboggan chute
 
 NEW FKIENDS. 63 
 
 last winter; but Dan ran off it and was 'most 
 killed, so grandpa made us have it taken down. 
 Perhaps, if you're very fond of tobogganing, he'll 
 let us have it put up again this year, though," 
 he added roguishly, as he smiled suggestively up 
 at his companion. 
 
 " I don't think I ca/e enough about it to run 
 the risk of Dan getting his neck broken," she 
 said laughing. " But what a dear pony ! " she 
 exclaimed, as her escort led her across the lawn 
 and, stopping at a low fence, called to a little 
 brown pony that was nibbling the grass in the 
 field beyond. 
 
 "Yes, this is Brownie Bell, my own pony," 
 said Jack proudly, while he stroked the pretty 
 creature's neck. " Just notice that white star in 
 her forehead; they're the only white hairs she 
 has anywhere on her. Duke, the black one over 
 there, is Dan's. He's prettier than Brownie ; but 
 he's cross sometimes, and grandpa wants Uncle 
 Jerry to sell him. Dan isn't a bit afraid of him, 
 though." 
 
 "What does he do?" inquired Margaret 
 curiously, as she turned to Danforth who had 
 come forward and was leaning on the fence at 
 her other side. " I've never had anything to do
 
 64 MARGARET DAVIS, TUTOB. 
 
 with horses, myself, and I don't know much about 
 them." 
 
 " Oh, he rears a little sometimes ; and once he 
 was cross when I took him out, and bolted," he 
 answered shyly. " That was ever so long ago ; 
 but it frightened grandma, and she and grandpa 
 have never thought he .was quite safe, since 
 then." 
 
 "And aren't you ever at all afraid?" asked 
 Margaret, trying to draw him on to talk with her, 
 for she liked the boy's gentle manner, and she 
 suddenly recalled his uncle's speaking of the 
 matter-of-course Avay in which he took his place 
 in the background. Whenever she had looked 
 at him that morning, she had found him gazing 
 at her intently; but he had made no advances. 
 Now she reproved herself for having given all 
 her attention to Jack, when she had been warned 
 that Danforth was to be her especial care. 
 
 " Oh, no ; why should I ? " he answered, with a 
 little look of surprise. " Duke knows that I'm his 
 master, and that he must mind me. He won't let 
 Jack ride him at all ; but I can do anything with 
 him that I choose. See here ! " And Danforth 
 stepped to the top of the fence, called the pony to 
 him, vaulted on to his bare back and went gallop-
 
 NEW FEIENDS. 65 
 
 ing away across the field, followed by the other 
 ponies in hot pursuit. 
 
 "The little gray one is mine," explained Bobbie. 
 " She's old, and I mean to have a new one, some 
 day; but Uncle Jerry says I must wait till I'm 
 older and stronger. The other three are all car- 
 riage horses ; we haven't but six in all." 
 
 " Oh, Miss Davis, don't you want to try Lady 
 Jane ? " asked Jack eagerly. " She's a splendid 
 woman's horse, and Dan or I could go out with 
 you, if you don't know the roads round here." 
 
 " What fun ! " she answered quite as eagerly. 
 " I wish I could, but I've never tried riding in my 
 life, and I don't know anything at all about it." 
 
 "Lady Jane is perfectly safe," said Danforth, 
 who had trotted back to them once more, and 
 guided Duke up to the fence to let Margaret 
 stroke his nose, an attention which he returned by 
 promptly snapping at her. " You'll feel comforta- 
 ble with her as soon as you get into the saddle." 
 
 " But I never was in a saddle," protested Mar- 
 garet, though she looked with longing eyes at the 
 demure little gray pony who had strolled across to 
 the fence. " I'm afraid I should fall off ; but I'd 
 like to try." 
 
 " How funny that you never rode ! " remarked
 
 66 MAKGAKET DAVIS, TUTOK. 
 
 Bobbie, with a little air of superiority. " Every- 
 body does here." 
 
 " No ; they don't either, Bob," said Jack, nettled 
 at his sister's tone. " And even if they did, it's 
 no sign that they do it everywhere. I'll tell you 
 what, Miss Davis, we'll go round and see the barn 
 and trapeze and things ; then Bobbie can put you 
 into her riding skirt while we saddle Lady Jane, 
 and we'll give you a lesson in the noble art of rid- 
 ing. It's only fair," he added, with a laugh. 
 "Your turn is coming, next week, and then we 
 shall have to put up with lessons from you, the 
 whole time." 
 
 Then he led the way into the vast barn, with its 
 large mows piled high with the summer's hay, and 
 out into the low, square corn house where the 
 golden and red ears peeped out between the cracks 
 in the bins. Grandpa Atherton owned a rich old 
 farm which stretched far across the plain at the 
 back of the house, and his head farmer was as 
 proud of his orderly barns as a young housekeeper 
 would be of her well-kept china-closet. Jack was a 
 thorough host, and every nook and corner had to 
 be visited before he could feel that his duty was 
 done ; but at length he brought Margaret out by a 
 little door which led into the carriage shed, and
 
 NEW FUIENDS. 67 
 
 allowed her to pause for breath, while he ex- 
 plained to her their somewhat complicated trapeze. 
 
 "But what do you do with it?" she asked 
 vaguely, at the end of a long and minute explana- 
 tion. 
 
 " Wait and see. You sit down there ; or no, 
 you'd better get up here, for you can watch us 
 better." And Jack pointed to an ancient chaise, 
 which might have been the Deacon's Masterpiece, 
 returned to its original unbroken condition. 
 
 "It was the one Great-grandpa Atherton had 
 when he was married," explained Bobbie, as she 
 helped Margaret to climb into the tall, swaying 
 old carriage, and took her seat beside her. " I've 
 heard grandpa tell all about it, how his father 
 wore a blue velvet coat with lace ruffles in the 
 sleeves, and the horses they had two, one in 
 front of the other, for the wedding had long 
 white ribbons hanging from their ears. Just think 
 how lovely ! " And Bobbie gave a rapturous wig- 
 gle, which set the old chaise to rocking upon the 
 leathern straps that served as springs. " Did any 
 of your grandfathers fight in the Revolution?" 
 she asked suddenly. 
 
 "Only one, and he was nothing but a great- 
 uncle," replied Margaret, smiling as she watched
 
 68 MARGARET DAVIS, TUTOli. 
 
 the child's face change at the admission. "But 
 my great-great-grandfather signed the Declara- 
 tion," she added mischievously, for she was much 
 amused by this small disciple of America's aristoc- 
 racy. 
 
 " Oh, come off there, Bob ! " exclaimed Jack 
 irreverently. " What do you suppose Miss Davis 
 cares about our ancestors' best clothes? She'd 
 much better ask what their children can do. I 
 don't want to live on my grandfather's greatness ; 
 I'd rather have some new bones of my own." 
 
 " Is that the reason you're trying to break those 
 you have ? " inquired Bobbie, in no wise ruffled 
 by Jack's scorn. " Remember how you fell down 
 and scraped the skin all off your nose, the last 
 time you tried the parallel bars, and be a little 
 careful to-day." 
 
 For half an hour longer, Margaret sat there in 
 state and, all regardless of the hayseed which had 
 sifted down into her hair, and the wisps of straw 
 that fringed her dark blue gown, she watched the 
 two boys while they went through a series of evo- 
 lutions which, to her untutored eye, appeared to 
 be especially designed for the purpose of dislocat- 
 ing their necks. To her surprise, she discovered 
 that Danforth was quite as energetic and daring
 
 NEW FRIENDS. 69 
 
 as his brother ; and she soon found that, when 
 once he became interested in his sport and uncon- 
 scious of himself, his face lighted and grew almost 
 handsome. The longer she studied the boy, the 
 more she liked him. Underneath all his shy awk- 
 wardness of manner, she could see a native refine- 
 ment and delicacy ; and his face, though a little 
 weak, was true and good. She was still wonder- 
 ing how she could best make friends with him, 
 when Jack came leaping down to the floor again, 
 and paused before her, cap in hand, looking glori- 
 ously strong and rosy and alive. 
 
 " The show is ended, ma'am," he said. " Don't 
 you see what good fun it is ? Now, Bobbie, you 
 go and get your riding-skirt for her, and we fel- 
 lows will have Lady Jane ready by the time you 
 are." 
 
 "Be sure you buckle the saddle tighter than 
 you did for me, last time," cautioned Bobbie. " It 
 slipped, when I was over in Riverton, and I had 
 to get a man to tighten it for me. Lady Jane 
 doesn't like to have her saddle on," she explained 
 to Margaret, as she led the way back to the house; 
 " so she holds her breath and swells out, to keep 
 the girths from being tight enough to hold." 
 
 Ten minutes later Margaret stood on the steps,
 
 70 MARGARET DAVIS, TUTOR. 
 
 bareheaded and with Bobbie's green skirt slipped 
 on underneath her own blue waist. 
 
 " I think I must be a remarkable spectacle," she 
 confessed, in an apologetic aside to Grandma 
 Atherton, who had come to the door to watch the 
 mounting ; " but I've given myself unreservedly 
 into the children's hands, this morning. I thought 
 it was the best way to get acquainted with them." 
 
 Grandma Atherton smiled in perfect approval. 
 
 " It's just what they need, Miss Davis," she said ; 
 " and the more you can be like an older sister to 
 them, the better we shall all be pleased. "Tisn't 
 for the lessons alone that we want you; I hope 
 you'll make little men and women of my children, 
 not mere scholars. Jack, is that saddle all 
 strong ? " 
 
 " It's all right, grandma, I've looked out for it," 
 he answered, turning instantly with the pretty 
 deference which both the boys always gave her. 
 " Come, Miss Davis." And he led Lady Jane up 
 beside the low block of stone in front of the 
 steps. 
 
 " But how do I get on her ? " asked Margaret, 
 looking anxiously up at the saddle which appeared 
 to be several rods above her reach. 
 
 " Put your foot in the stirrup, and swing your-
 
 NEW FRIENDS. 71 
 
 self up," instructed Jack. " Here, Dan, you hold 
 the stirrup for her, so. Now, one, two, three ! " 
 
 Obeying his tone and gesture, Margaret put her 
 toe into the stirrup, clutched Lady Jane's white 
 mane and attempted to leap into the saddle as she 
 had seen Danforth do. She only succeeded in 
 bumping herself against Lady Jane's smooth flank, 
 and scraping her elbow on the edge of the saddle. 
 
 " Once more," said Jack encouragingly. " You'll 
 get there this time. Now ! " 
 
 This time she sprang a little higher and landed, 
 face down, across the saddle. She clung there for 
 a moment, and then slowly slipped down again to 
 the ground. 
 
 " See, Miss Davis ! " And with one little wriggle 
 and spring, Bobbie was in her place. " Now," she 
 added, as she jumped down again ; " put your foot 
 in here, so, and your right hand up, like this. 
 Then give a little jump, not too hard a one, for 
 you might go clear across her, and fall down, the 
 other side. I did once." 
 
 " I'm afraid it's no go," said Jack ruefully, after 
 he had watched Margaret through several more 
 attempts. "If you could only get on board, I 
 know you'd stay there ; but I don't just see how 
 to get you up, in the first place."
 
 72 MARGARET DAVIS, TUTOR. 
 
 " You might take her out to the barn, and she 
 could climb up on a hay-mow and slide down into 
 the saddle," suggested Bobbie, who was unable 
 longer to conceal her amusement. 
 
 " Why not bring out a chair ? " proposed 
 Grandma Atherton from the doorway, where she 
 made a pretty picture, with her white curls just 
 stirred by the breeze, and a chuddah shawl 
 wrapped closely about her shoulders. 
 
 " I know the very thing," said Danforth sud- 
 denly. " Wait just a minute." And he rushed 
 into the house, to reappear again with a low step- 
 ladder in his arms. 
 
 " But won't Lady Jane resent such a proceed- 
 ing ? " asked Margaret, looking distrustfully at 
 her ladyship, who was growing impatient over 
 this prolonged operation of mounting. 
 
 " Oh, no ; she's a dear, and used to anything," 
 said Bobbie, while Danforth planted the ladder 
 firmly in the middle of the driveway, and Jack led 
 Lady Jane forward to this improvised mounting- 
 block. " Now, Jack, you hold her head, and I '11 
 keep her from backing round sideways. Dan, you 
 get Miss Davis across into the saddle." 
 
 With an amused glance back at Grandma Ather- 
 ton, Margaret mounted the ladder and, clinging to
 
 NEW FRIENDS. 73 
 
 Danforth's sustaining hand, she cautiously crawled 
 across into the saddle. The next moment, she 
 gave a little mortified laugh, and backed off on to 
 the ladder again ; for she had found herself seated 
 upright with her face pointed straight towards 
 Lady Jane's tail. 
 
 " Laugh, if you want to," she said gayly. " It 
 doesn't hurt my feelings a bit, and I'm going to 
 get the knack of it in time." 
 
 "You're all right," said Danforth hopefully. 
 " Try it again." 
 
 She did try it again, and landed devoutly on her 
 knees, sideways in the saddle, with her flowing 
 robe so twisted about her feet that she was unable 
 to turn around into her place. However, the 
 third attempt proved to be successful, as it usually 
 does ; and after all her struggles, Margaret at last 
 found herself seated properly, with her eyes on 
 Lady Jane's ears, and one hand clutching her mane 
 so fiercely that it threatened to be torn from the 
 skin. With one or two deft touches, Danforth 
 drew her skirt into place, and settled her foot 
 in the stirrup. 
 
 " Thank you, Dan," she said gratefully, as she 
 bent down as far as she dared, and let go her hold 
 upon Lady Jane long enough to rest her bare hand
 
 74 MARGARET DAVIS, TUTOR. 
 
 lightly on the smooth yellow head beside her. 
 " You are a most devoted young squire." 
 
 The color rushed to the boy's face, as his eyes 
 met hers in one quick glance ; but he made no 
 other answer. 
 
 "All ready?" asked Jack. 
 
 " Oh, don't let her go ! " And she clutched 
 the reins again. 
 
 "She's as safe as a meeting-house," said Jack, 
 laughing ; " but if you're afraid one little bit, 
 we'll lead her, this time." And the cavalcade 
 moved off, with Margaret on her lofty perch, rock- 
 ing to and fro as unsteadily as a yacht in a heavy 
 sea, while Danforth walked at her side, to be 
 within reach in case she slipped. 
 
 They took a few turns up and down the lawn ; 
 then Jack started off down the long drive. 
 
 "Where are you going, Jack?" she asked 
 anxiously, as he turned out into the road. 
 
 " Only down to the corner, to meet Uncle 
 Jerry," he answered. "It's time for him to be 
 coming home to lunch, and I want him to see how 
 splendidly you're getting on." 
 
 " Oh, don't ! " she begged, with a sudden reali- 
 zation of her undignified appearance, after her 
 morning's explorations. What would Mr. Athcr-
 
 
 - 
 
 'Here we are, Uncle Jerry." 
 Page 75.
 
 NEW FUIKNDS. 75 
 
 ton think of her ability as a tutor, if he beheld 
 her in her present position? "Don't you see I 
 haven't any hat ? " she urged. 
 
 " That's all right ; this isn't the city," said Jack 
 composedly. " Here, take my cap," he added, 
 tossing it back to Bobbie who handed it to Mar- 
 garet. " There he comes, now ! Here we are, 
 Uncle Jerry!" he announced, pausing before his 
 uncle while Margaret longed to hide her blushes, 
 as she tried to smile down with unembarrassed 
 ease upon the little figure in the road before her. 
 
 To her surprise and relief, Uncle Jerry did not 
 seem at all shocked at sight of her. Man-like, he 
 was quite unconscious of the discordant colors of 
 her composite gown, and of the spikes of hay still 
 clinging to her head and shoulders. He only saw 
 her bright, flushed face, with its wealth of golden 
 hair all loosened about it, under Jack's light gray 
 cap which was cocked on the back of her head ; 
 and he appeared to be perfectly satisfied to find 
 the prim duenna, who usually poses as a model 
 teacher, resolved into a pretty young woman, sur- 
 rounded by a trio of eager children.
 
 CHAPTER IV. 
 
 MARGARET AND HER PUPILS. 
 
 THE following Monday morning, Margaret en- 
 tered upon her new work. Her knowledge of the 
 children had made rapid strides, during the past 
 three days ; and she quickly discovered that this 
 knowledge would be of great help to her in ar- 
 ranging their studies, and suiting them to their 
 habits of thought and their interests. All in all, 
 she liked Jack the best. Even his faults, the 
 faults of a hot-tempered, self-willed boy, were 
 rendered attractive by a frank manliness which 
 made him ready, after the first explosion, to listen 
 to reason, repent of his manifold sins and take 
 their consequences. 
 
 Bobbie, though the brightest, was less interest- 
 ing. She had all Jack's faults, but not all of his 
 virtues, for she was a little vain and self-conscious, 
 and lacked her brother's jovial unselfishness. 
 Moreover, she was undeniably lazy, and she had 
 a vexatious fashion of skimming over the surface 
 
 76
 
 MAKGAKET AND HER PUPILS. 77 
 
 of her world, picking up a catch-word, here and 
 there, which she had the tact to treasure up in her 
 mind, and bring out at the exact moment when it 
 was calculated to impress the listener with her 
 unusual fund of information. In fact, Bobbie's 
 tact often stood her in good stead, for it saved her 
 from many a well-merited lecture ; and many a 
 duty unperformed was accounted for with a little 
 word of explanation and apology which carried its 
 point, in spite of its evident lack of sincerity. It 
 was not that she was untruthful. Bobbie never 
 lied ; but when she was in disgrace, she had a 
 trick of cocking her head on one side and casting 
 down her eyes, which usually disarmed her oppo- 
 nent. But when Bobbie's temper- was really 
 roused, it was like the sweep of a young tornado ; 
 and even Jack was forced to stand aside and let 
 the hurricane rush past him. 
 
 Danforth was still Margaret's unsolved prob- 
 lem. The more she studied him, the more she 
 admired him and the less she became acquainted 
 with him. From the first, he made few advances, 
 but stood back and allowed Jack to take the lead ; 
 yet, every now and then, he would surprise Mar- 
 garet by some sudden glance or gesture which 
 showed his shy liking for her, and his evident
 
 78 MARGARET DAVIS, TUTOR. 
 
 wish to have her like him. By nature he had a 
 much more even temper than his brother ; and he 
 had a way of making the best of things, with a 
 quiet optimism which rendered him a most agree- 
 able companion. This came partly from his 
 habit of reasoning everything out to his own 
 satisfaction, for both in his books and his home 
 surroundings, he was never content to leave 
 anything unexplained or unaccounted for. In 
 his way, too, he was quite as affectionate as Jack 
 and much more unselfish. Indeed, his lack of 
 self-assertion was his worse fault, arid he fell an 
 easy victim to Bobbie who, finding it impossible 
 to quarrel with him, devised endless ways to 
 tease him, ridiculing his weak points and oppos- 
 ing his pet interests until poor Danforth was 
 nearly distracted, and Margaret longed for her 
 authority to- begin, that she might protect him 
 from the assaults of his sister. 
 
 On Sunday evening, Gerald had called Mar- 
 garet away into the cosy little library, the one 
 modern room in the old house, where the walls 
 were lined with rows of well-selected books, sur- 
 mounted by a fine collection of modern etchings, 
 broken here and there by an ancient wood-en- 
 graving whose coarse crudeness was only equalled
 
 MARGARET AND HER PUPILS. 79 
 
 by its value. A Turkish carpet covered the 
 floor and dull-hued draperies concealed the doors, 
 while a great table littered with the latest maga- 
 zines, a well-stocked desk and three or four 
 luxurious-looking chairs drawn up before the 
 open fire, completed the furnishing of the room 
 and made it look what it was, the favorite re- 
 treat of a man who loved what was best in art 
 and literature, and had the means to indulge his 
 tastes to the utmost. 
 
 " What a charming room ! " Margaret had said 
 half involuntarily, as Mr. Atheilon drew aside 
 the portidre and stood waiting for her to pass 
 in before him. 
 
 " I'm glad you like it," he answered, with a 
 smile ; " for this is to be your future sanctum, 
 and every morning it will be given up to you and 
 the children. Sit down here by the fire, and 
 we'll arrange a little about their work. Then, 
 after they are started, I shall leave them to your 
 care. You certainly have a gift for managing 
 them ; but, tell me, how do you like them ? " 
 And he turned to look at his companion with a 
 little feeling of pleasure, as his eyes rested on 
 her animated face and slight, graceful figure. 
 
 " Shall I tell you what I really think ? " And 
 Margaret met his gaze frankly.
 
 80 MAKGARET DAVIS, TUTOK. 
 
 "Do, please, and then we can tell better how 
 we are going to start." 
 
 "I like them all," said Margaret slowly, as 
 the color came into her cheeks ; " but I like the 
 boys better than I do Bobbie. She is an attrac- 
 tive little thing; but she is less frank and gen- 
 erous than they are, and I don't think she is 
 always quite considerate enough of Danforth. 
 Jack is a dear boy. He has plenty of faults ; 
 but they are all manly and honorable ones, and 
 he will outgrow them with time and the proper 
 training. I don't know Danforth, and I doubt 
 my ever really doing so; but he is very inter- 
 esting, and I believe that, down under all his shy- 
 ness, he's the flower of the family, but whether 
 you or I will ever live to see it proved to the 
 world at large, is an open question. There," 
 she added, laughing ; " have I passed a satisfac- 
 tory examination on my three days' study ? " 
 
 " Good ! You have said just what I've been 
 thinking for the past three years; and now, 
 the next thing is to plan how, between the two 
 of us, we can make the most of the children. 
 Their training will largely depend on us, for 
 neither my father nor mother are strong enough 
 to have the care. I'm too busy to have more
 
 MARGARET AND HER PUPILS. 81 
 
 than a general oversight of them, and they've 
 been running wild of late. And now about 
 your work." 
 
 For more than an hour they sat there together, 
 talking over different plans for the winter's work. 
 Then, as they rose to go back to the drawing- 
 room, Mr. Atherton said suddenly, 
 
 " By the way, Miss Davis, Danf orth tells me 
 that you own a fine dog ; a collie, isn't he ? " 
 
 " Oh, yes." And Margaret's face brightened at 
 the thought of her pet. " Laddie is a beauty, and 
 he has a pedigree reaching back into Scotland, 
 for generations and generations. Dan is so fond 
 of pets that I was telling him about the dog 
 yesterday." 
 
 " If he's your own dog, why not have him sent 
 up here to stay with you ? " suggested Mr. Ather- 
 ton, smiling at the enthusiasm of her tone. "I'm 
 not quite unselfish in proposing it, for I've been 
 meaning to get a dog for the boys, as soon as I 
 could find one that I liked. Dan came to me, last 
 night, witli a long face, and told me a pitiful tale 
 of how you had been forced to leave your pet, and 
 liow you were probably mourning for each other. 
 I strongly suspect that he spoke one word for you, 
 and two apiece for himself and Jack ; but I told
 
 82 MAKGAKET DAVIS, TUTOR. 
 
 him I would ask you what you thought of sending 
 down for the dog." 
 
 "Really?" And Margaret gave a little gasp 
 of gratitude. "I wanted to bring him up here 
 and have him board somewhere near, so I could 
 see him; but my sisters made fun of me, and I 
 was afraid you would find it out and think I was 
 silly. But he isn't always a good dog," she added 
 conscientiously. " Sometimes he barks, and once 
 in a while he eats up stray shoes and gloves. He's 
 only two years old, and hasn't much dignity 
 yet." 
 
 "No matter." And Gerald laughed. "Send 
 for him to-morrow. His pranks will amuse the 
 children, and mother is like Dan in her love for 
 all pets, so unless he is very sinful, we shan't 
 mind him in the least." And he led the way back 
 to the drawing-room, quite unconscious of the 
 happiness of which he had just been the cause. 
 
 By the end of the next week, Margaret had set- 
 tled into a well-established routine which made 
 her feel quite like a daughter of the house, so 
 warmly had she been welcomed by them all. For 
 the first few nights, she had gone to bed with a 
 conviction that this could not last and that, as soon 
 as the strangeness had worn off, she would be
 
 MARGARET AND HER PUPILS. 83 
 
 gently reminded that her position was that of tutor, 
 not of guest ; but day after day passed by, and she 
 was still occupying her same place in the family 
 circle, a place of many privileges and pleasant 
 duties. 
 
 Her daily routine was unvarying, for the most 
 part. After breakfast, as an especial mark of 
 favor, she was allowed to retire to the great china- 
 closet with Grandma Atherton, and help her by 
 wiping the old blue dishes which no profane hands 
 were ever permitted to wash. It was a half-hour 
 of keen enjoyment to Margaret, for she already 
 loved the sweet, motherly woman, and their quiet 
 talks over the steaming dish-water often gave her 
 a help and inspiration which lasted far on into the 
 day. Promptly at nine o'clock, Margaret gathered 
 her little flock into the library, and then, for four 
 long hours, hard work was the order of the day. 
 As a general rule, the children did work with a 
 will, though Bobbie was occasionally a little in- 
 clined to be idle, or Jack demoralized them all with 
 his pranks; but Margaret contrived to keep them 
 busy, and to force into their minds their daily 
 allowance of Greek and Latin, English or Mathe- 
 matics, without their knowing just how or when 
 they learned it all. After their mid-day lunch,
 
 84 MARGARET DAVIS, TUTOR. 
 
 she was free to pass the time as she chose, except- 
 ing the hour before dinner when she read aloud 
 with the children, usually some history or travels. 
 This last was so successful that, before the first 
 week was over, they had agreed to go back to the 
 library for an hour after the meal, and read the 
 best fiction of the day. 
 
 All in all, it was a pleasant, easy life for Marga- 
 ret, who fully realized that she had been fortunate 
 in coming into this charming home. It was hard 
 for her to decide whether she more enjoyed her 
 leisure hours spent out of doors, or sewing by the 
 fire, while she chatted with Grandma Atherton, 
 or her work with the children, who were always 
 ready to linger over their lessons as long as she 
 would keep them with her. It was no uncommon 
 thing for them to claim her afternoons for a long 
 walk or drive over the mountain roads ; or, on 
 stormy days, to tempt her up-stairs into the great 
 room where they held sway, kept their treasures 
 and received their intimate friends. Here Marga- 
 ret made the acquaintance of Bobbie's other self, 
 Penelope Stoddard, a pretty, yellow-haired young 
 girl whose quiet face and gentle manner were the 
 imperfect mask of an impishness equal to Bobbie's 
 own ; and of Ellsworth Pierson, a slight, dark little
 
 MARGARET AND HER PUPILS. 85 
 
 fellow of thirteen, who frequently came to the 
 house, nominally to see the boys, although he 
 made no secret of his devotion to Bobbie, who 
 alternately snubbed him and tyrannized over him, 
 with a perfect unconsciousness of the real state of 
 his feelings. 
 
 Of Gerald, Margaret saw but little, except at 
 meal-times and late in the evenings, for he was 
 much in demand in a social way, and after a 
 long day at his office, he was frequently out 
 in the evening. But when they met she always 
 found him the same cordial, kindly host who had 
 welcomed her on her arrival; and she quickly 
 learned to look forward to his coming, for he 
 never failed to bring with him a new spirit of 
 genial optimism. There are some people who 
 never enter a room, without being met with a 
 smile from every person in it. 
 
 No atmosphere, however, is altogether cloudless, 
 and Grandpa Atherton was the one dark spot 
 upon Margaret's horizon. In an unguarded 
 moment, she had confessed to a liking for chess, 
 and, after that, Grandpa Atherton considered her 
 his lawful prey. Whenever he became weary of 
 the interminable games of solitaire, with which 
 he beguiled his leisure hours, he pounced upon
 
 86 MARGARET DAVIS, TUTOR. 
 
 Margaret and demanded a fight at chess. Worst 
 of all, he was really a fine player, and in Margaret 
 he believed that he saw unusual promise, so he 
 promptly devoted himself to her development. 
 
 There is no doubt but that Margaret's character 
 and patience were increased by his training, for 
 Grandpa Atherton was as hot-tempered as his 
 grandson and namesake, and now lectured 
 Margaret upon her mismanagement of her pawns, 
 now scolded her for risking her queen in dangerous 
 positions, and on one occasion, when she had put 
 into practice his precepts and had succeeded in 
 checkmating him, he jerked the board, men and 
 all, to the floor, and stalked out of the room with 
 the very tails of his dressing-gown quivering with 
 ill-suppressed indignation. After that, she dared 
 beat him no more, but spent long, tedious hours 
 bending over the board, planning how to keep up 
 a brave fight to the last, then suddenly fall a 
 victim to some one of his favorite plays. 
 
 On the second Saturday afternoon in her new 
 home, Margaret was up in the Wilderness, as 
 Gerald called the children's room, helping Jack 
 to cover over his favorite ball with the long 
 wrists of a discarded pair of her gloves, when 
 Bobbie suddenly appeared upon the scene. Jack
 
 MARGARET AND HER PUPILS. 87 
 
 glanced up and gave a low whistle, before re- 
 marking, 
 
 " Hullo, Bobbie ; why this elegance ? " 
 
 "What elegance?" she asked unconsciously, 
 though with a sidelong glance down at her best 
 gown, the Eton jacket of which she regarded as 
 being particularly successful. "I only changed 
 my gown because Grandma just told me that Mr. 
 Huntington is here, and she's going to keep him 
 to dinner. She likes to have us neat, you know." 
 
 "And so you put on your store clothes," said 
 Jack, finishing her sentence for her. " Turn 
 around very slowly, Bobbie, so we can see them 
 all, and then you'd better run away again. Miss 
 Davis and I are busy." 
 
 "It's time you stopped, though," responded 
 Bobbie, sitting down on her brother's knee and 
 running her fingers through his wavy dark hair. 
 " It's almost five, and time to read. Besides, I 
 want to stay here ; I'm lonesome. They're talking 
 about all sorts of stupid things, down-stairs, and 
 Pen wouldn't stay any longer, so she's gone off 
 home. I like you best, anyway. Can't I help 
 you ? " she concluded artfully. 
 
 "Not a bit," said Jack promptly, for Bobbie 
 had interrupted Margaret's account of the last
 
 88 MARGARET DAVIS, TUTOR. 
 
 Yale-Harvard race, and he was anxious to get his 
 sister out of the way, so that he could hear the 
 rest of the story. "Where's Dan? you'd better 
 go and hunt him up." 
 
 Bobbie's lips took on a little disdainful curve, 
 and she let one arm rest caressingly on Jack's 
 shoulder, as she answered contemptuously, 
 
 " Oh, he's down in the library, and doesn't know 
 anything but his stupid old book. I tried to stir 
 him up; but he was cross, and sent me off. Say, 
 Jacky, can't I stay here ? I can cover your ball as 
 well as Miss Davis can." 
 
 " Suppose you try it," suggested Margaret, not 
 at all to Jack's satisfaction. " It is almost time 
 to have our history, and I've something to do 
 first. Come down to the library in about half 
 an hour." 
 
 "All right." And Bobbie slipped into the 
 chair from which Margaret had just risen. " Are 
 you going to change your gown, Miss Davis ? If 
 you do, please put on the pretty red one you wore 
 the other night." 
 
 Margaret laughed, as she made her escape into 
 her own room. Then, after pausing a moment to 
 see that her hair was in order, she softly opened 
 the door, and went down-stairs and into the
 
 MARGARET AND HER PUPILS. 89 
 
 library. From Bobbie's sudden affection for 
 Jack, Margaret suspected that she had been hav- 
 ing a disagreement with her other brother ; and, 
 from her week's observations, she was perfectly 
 well aware that such disagreements were usually 
 all on one side, so she had resolved to go down 
 and see for herself wherein Danforth's crossness 
 lay. Pushing aside the portiere, she entered the 
 room so quietly that the boy was quite uncon- 
 scious of her approach ; and she stood resting her 
 hand on the back of his chair, studying his face 
 for a moment, before he discovered her presence. 
 
 The contest, whatever had been its nature, had 
 evidently proved disastrous to Danforth, for he had 
 dropped his book to the floor and clasped his 
 hands behind his head, as he sat scowling moodily 
 into the fire. His cheeks were flushed, and his 
 small white teeth were shut over his lower lip; 
 while one lock of his yellow hair stood aggres- 
 sively erect. Obeying some sudden impulse, 
 Margaret gently smoothed it down into its ac- 
 customed place. At the first touch, Danforth 
 shook himself impatiently. 
 
 " Do go away, Bobbie," he said, without look- 
 ing up. "I've stood about all I'm going to, 
 to-day."
 
 90 MARGARET DAVIS, TUTOR. 
 
 " But I'm not Bobbie," said Margaret's voice 
 in his ear. 
 
 " Oh, Miss Davis ! " And Danforth started up 
 hastily. " I honestly didn't know 'twas you ; I 
 thought it was Bobbie, and and " 
 
 " Yes, I know," said Margaret, drawing a chair 
 up beside his and seating herself. "I knew you 
 were all alone here, so I thought I'd come down 
 and have a little visit with you, before Jack and 
 Bobbie should come. Sit down again and let's en- 
 joy the fire for a while before we have to have a 
 light. Bobbie says that a Mr. Huntington is 
 going to be here to dinner," she added. " Who 
 is he?" 
 
 "Really? How jolly!" And Danforth's face 
 grew suddenly bright and interested. "He's 
 the new minister that came here last fall, a 
 first-rate sort of a fellow. Bobbie doesn't take 
 to him, because she says he wears his clothes too 
 long, till they get shabby ; but Jack and I think 
 he's about the right sort, not one of your long- 
 faced kind, but likes boys and knows what they 
 like." 
 
 " For instance ? " asked Margaret, smiling at the 
 boy's eagerness. 
 
 " All sorts of ways. He knows us all and,
 
 MA KG A RET AND HEE PUPILS. 91 
 
 last winter, he had a club of us ; but he had to 
 drop that, because he had so much else." 
 
 " A boys' club ; that is in my line. You know 
 I used to have one at home, such dear boys, too ! 
 Tell me about yours." 
 
 And Danforth told, forgetting himself and even 
 Bobbie's teasing, as he gave Margaret a glowing 
 description of the good times they had had in 
 their meetings. She watched him closely, fasci- 
 nated by his ease of expression and by his ani- 
 mated, changing face. Why could he not always 
 be as unreserved with her, she asked herself ; and 
 she determined upon a bold stroke. As he paused, 
 she leaned over and rested her hand upon his, 
 which lay on the arm of his chair. 
 
 " Dan," she asked abruptly ; " I like boys just 
 as well as Mr. Huntington does, and I know a 
 good deal about them, too. Why can't we be as 
 good friends as you and he are ? " 
 
 " I don't know." And Danforth retreated into 
 his shell as promptly as an offended box-turtle. 
 
 "That's not a fair answer," she responded, 
 laughing. " I'm really in earnest, Dan. I've been 
 here more than a week now, and I'm getting on 
 beautifully with Jack and Bobbie ; but I don't 
 know you any better than I did the very first
 
 92 MARGARET DAVIS, TUTOR. 
 
 night. I don't think it is all my fault ; but we 
 don't seem to be getting at each other at all." 
 
 Danforth was staring into the fire again, and 
 Margaret began to fear that she had made a mis- 
 take in trying to take him by storm ; but it was 
 too late to draw back. 
 
 " Truly, Dan," she urged ; " Jack informed me 
 to-day that I wasn't half bad, and you really ought 
 to give me the benefit of the doubt. I want to be 
 friends with both my boys, for then we could have 
 so much better times together. I don't ask you 
 to like me, only to trust me and to believe that I 
 really care for you, instead of being here just to 
 teach you your lessons." 
 
 Danforth turned a little in his chair, and looked 
 up at her with a mute appeal in his great blue 
 eyes. No woman's voice had taken just that tone 
 in speaking to him, since his mother left him ; 
 and, except for Grandma Atherton and Uncle 
 Jerry, no one had cared to try to win his liking. 
 At heart the boy was very lonely, and hungry 
 for a word of sympathy and understanding from 
 some one. Even Jack failed at times, for his ani- 
 mal spirits and love of fun made him slow to 
 appreciate all the moods of his more sensitive 
 brother. Moreover, Margaret's face was very
 
 MARGARET AND HER PUPILS. 93 
 
 sweet and gentle as she bent towards him, with a 
 little, half-shy smile trembling on her lips. 
 
 "What I want, Dan," she went on slowly, "is 
 that you shall feel as if I were a cousin or some- 
 thing, so that you can come to me when things go 
 wrong, and talk it over together, and let me have 
 a share in your interests, when things go right ; 
 to grow to be friends through thick and thin. It 
 won't come all at once, I know ; but let's try for 
 it, because," she hesitated ; then she went on, in 
 a lower tone, " because I could be very fond of 
 you, Dan, if you'd only let me." 
 
 The clock struck five and Jack's voice was heard 
 in the hall outside. The next moment, he and 
 Bobbie came into the room, but not before Mar- 
 garet had felt the boy's fingers close upon hers in 
 a firm, close grasp. 
 
 When they adjourned to the drawing-room, after 
 their hour's reading, Margaret was introduced to 
 the minister of whom Danforth had spoken so 
 warmly. She found him a slight, dark young 
 man, with a pale clear-cut face and a little manner 
 of boyish shyness which reminded her of Danforth 
 himself. Accustomed as she was to meeting 
 strangers, she was secretly amused by this young 
 man's downcast eyes, and an odd little fashion he
 
 94 MARGARET DAVIS, TUTOR. 
 
 had of irresolutely laying the tip of his forefinger 
 against his mustache, as if to steady his sensitive 
 lips. But when the talk went back from society 
 nothings to the real interests of life once more, 
 she was surprised to see the man's whole manner 
 change, while his face grew animated and his 
 great dark eyes lighted up, without any trace of 
 his former embarrassment. In spite of the shabby 
 black coat, worn white at the seams, which had 
 roused Bobbie's dislike, in spite of the nervous 
 forefinger, Margaret knew and liked him for just 
 what he was, an earnest, kindly young worker, 
 who had neither the time nor the inclination to 
 become a mere society man, so absorbed was he in 
 the real needs of his calling. 
 
 As they took their places at the table, Grandma 
 Atherton said to Margaret in a low tone, 
 
 "Just for to-night, I have put Danforth be- 
 tween you and Gerald, to make room for Mr. 
 Huntington." 
 
 And Margaret answered, with a smile for the 
 boy who stood waiting at her side, 
 
 " Why not let him stay here all the time ? It is 
 the best place for him." 
 
 It was growing late, that evening, when the 
 maid came to the door and spoke to Gerald. He
 
 MARGARET AND HER PUPILS. 95 
 
 rose from his place in the midst of the group be- 
 fore the fire, and went out into the hall. A 
 moment later, he opened the door a crack and 
 announced, 
 
 " A young gentleman is here, who would like to 
 see Miss Davis." 
 
 Then he threw the door wide open ; there came 
 a rush and a scramble, and Laddie, dragging his 
 chain after him, bounded into the group. Straight 
 to Margaret's chair he raced, leaped up and put 
 his paws on her shoulders, where he stood, barking 
 madly in his joy at once more finding his beloved 
 mistress who had so faithlessly deserted him. But 
 when at length he was quieted and brought to 
 order once more, they found that, in his wild 
 gambols about the room, Laddie's chain had tied 
 Margaret and Danforth together in a firm, close 
 bond.
 
 CHAPTER V. 
 BOBBIE'S EXPLORATIONS. 
 
 " COME, Dan," urged Bobbie ; " Uncle Jerry 
 said I mustn't go alone, and I think you might 
 come with me, just this once." 
 
 "But I don't want to, Bob. I told Jack I'd 
 find out how to rig up our telephone. There's 
 something wrong about it, and I borrowed this 
 book, just for this afternoon, so I could find out 
 the trouble. I'll go with you to-morrow; won't 
 that do?" he pleaded, for Bobbie stood over 
 him, with her lip curled in scorn. 
 
 " You are getting to be a perfect old poke, 
 Dan," she said impatiently. " You never were 
 half the fun Jack is; and, this fall, you've been 
 worse than ever, just won't do anything I want 
 you to." 
 
 " But don't you see I can't ? Why won't Jack 
 go with you?" 
 
 " Because he won't. He has taken Lady Jane 
 and gone for a ride with Miss Davis. He's with 
 
 96
 
 BOBBIE'S EXPLORATIONS. 97 
 
 her the whole time, afternoons." And Bobbie 
 pouted. 
 
 Danforth leaned back in his chair and looked 
 up at his sister, with a gleam of amusement in 
 his dark blue eyes. 
 
 "Do you know, Bob, I believe that you're 
 jealous of Miss Davis, and that's where the shoe 
 pinches." 
 
 " Danforth Spaulding, what an idea ! I'm not 
 jealous of anybody ; only," she went on, a little 
 illogically, "it seems too bad that, when I need 
 my brothers, they should be going off with some- 
 body that isn't their sister one bit." 
 
 " It's hard luck, Bobbie," said Danforth sympa- 
 thetically, as Bobbie dropped down on the arm of 
 his chair. 
 
 "Then why won't you go?" And Bobbie 
 smiled her sweetest, as she rested her head against 
 her brother's shoulder. 
 
 " I can't, honestly, Bobbie. I must do this 
 now. I haven't much time anyway, for it's almost 
 three. If you'll wait till to-morrow, I'll go." 
 
 "How selfish you are, Dan." And Bobbie 
 straightened up suddenly. " I should think you'd 
 be ashamed of yourself, so there ! You and Jack 
 are both just as mean as mean can be." She
 
 98 MARGARET DAVIS, TUTOR. 
 
 stood facing him angrily as she went on. "All 
 you care for is to sit over the fire and read, like 
 an old grandfather. But if you won't do what I 
 want you to, you shan't do what you want." 
 And before Dauforth could divine her intention, 
 she darted forward, pulled off his glasses with one 
 hand, seized his book with the other, and ran 
 away out of the room. 
 
 He rushed after her; but she was too quick for 
 him, and before he was half-way up the stairs, he 
 heard the key turn in her door. Accordingly, he 
 was forced to abandon the pursuit, and, after a 
 few warning words, the effect of which was 
 marred by their being delivered through the key- 
 hole to a silent room beyond, he went back to the 
 library where, since reading was out of the ques- 
 tion for him, he meditated upon vengeance. 
 
 " What a little wretch she is, when she gets 
 wild ! " he remarked to Laddie, who lay before the 
 fire. "I wouldn't mind, if she'd left my glasses; 
 but now our telephone must wait a while longer. 
 I believe I'll go out for a ride ; there's nothing 
 else to do." But he was still sitting there, half an 
 hour later, when Margaret came into the room, 
 dressed for a walk. 
 
 "Do you know where Bobbie is? "she asked,
 
 BOBBIE'S EXPLORATIONS. 99 
 
 coming forward to the fire, as she slowly drew on 
 her gloves. 
 
 "No; I'll be hanged if I do," answered Dan- 
 forth with unwonted impatience. 
 
 " I didn't know but you might have seen her," 
 said Margaret, a little surprised at his tone. " I've 
 looked everywhere for her since I came back, in 
 her room and in the Wilderness ; but I can't find 
 her at all. She wanted me to get some ribbon for 
 her, when I went over to Riverton." 
 
 " I honestly don't know where she is, but maybe 
 I can find her." And Danforth rose reluctantly, 
 to go in search of his sister. 
 
 " Never mind, Dan ; if she isn't here, she can 
 wait till another time. What are you doing in 
 the house, this lovely day? You ought to be out 
 in the air, not drying up your brains in this warm 
 room. Come over to Riverton with me, if you'Ve 
 nothing better to do. I've only one errand, and 
 then I shall come right home again." 
 
 " All right." ' And Danforth stretched himself 
 and buttoned his coat. " I promised Jack and 
 Ellie that I'd get our telephone straight, this after- 
 noon; but Bob has run off with my glasses, so I 
 can't finish the book, and I'd like to go." 
 
 "So that's it! I had been wondering what
 
 100 MARGARET DAVIS, TUTOR. 
 
 made you look so odd to me," said Margaret, 
 with a smile. " But what is Bobbie doing with 
 your property?" 
 
 Danforth gave an uneasy laugh. 
 
 " Oh, we had a little row, and she went for me 
 and came off first best, that's all." 
 
 " But Bobbie had no right to meddle with your 
 glasses, no matter what you did." Margaret's 
 tone was a trifle indignant. " I wish you'd tell 
 me what was the real trouble, Dan. This ought 
 to be stopped." 
 
 " I don't want to tell tales of Bobbie, Miss 
 Davis." And Danforth met her look squarely. 
 " 'Twasn't much, anyway ; and I'm glad to get rid 
 of my spectacles for a while. You know I hate 
 wearing them. Besides, I brought it on myself; 
 I wouldn't go nutting with her, and she thought 
 I "ought to." 
 
 " I'm sorry, Dan. We shall have to give Bobbie 
 a talking-to. But now let's be starting, before we 
 lose any more of this splendid day." And pri- 
 vately resolving to give Miss Bobbie a lecture 
 upon her sins, she followed Danforth into the hall, 
 and stood waiting while he took down his overcoat 
 and plunged his arm into the sleeve. 
 
 The next moment, he gave a short exclamation 
 of disgust, and shook it off again.
 
 BOBBIE'S EXPLORATIONS. 101 
 
 " What is it ? " asked Margaret curiously. 
 
 " Something is wrong with the sleeves ; I believe 
 Bobbie has been monkeying with the lining. Yes, 
 see there ! " And he pointed to a row of hasty, 
 uneven stitches which drew the lining together 
 into a little untidy knob of satin. "She must be 
 in no end of a temper, for she hates to sew, and 
 she'd never have taken so much trouble." 
 
 In spite of herself, Margaret laughed as she saw 
 the stitches. Bobbie's fun and originality showed, 
 even in her naughtiness, and she certainly devised 
 striking methods of taking revenge upon her 
 brothers. The child was wily enough to know 
 that, no matter what she did, if she could only get 
 the laugh on her side, the punishment which fol- 
 lowed must of necessity lose much of its severity ; 
 and when she was not so angry as to lose her head, 
 she never failed to add the saving touch of comi- 
 cality to her worst sins. 
 
 "Just run up to my room and bring me my 
 scissors, Dan," Margaret said, after a moment's 
 amused contemplation of the sleeves which she 
 had turned inside out. "I'll set this right in a 
 minute." And she was as good as her word for, 
 five minutes later, Danforth's coat was on, and 
 they were leaving the house.
 
 102 MARGARET DAVIS, TUTOR. 
 
 It was about two weeks after Margaret's little 
 talk with Danforth, and ever since that night, she 
 had been conscious of a slight difference in the 
 boy's attitude toward her, as if he were beginning 
 to trust her friendship, or had entered into some 
 secret alliance with her. He no longer watched 
 her out of the corners of his eyes ; but he met her 
 advances more frankly, although a quick, uncon- 
 sidered word would send him back into his old 
 reserve once more, until Margaret could succeed 
 in drawing him out again. It was rather exhaust- 
 ing, she said to herself at times, and she was occa- 
 sionally half-inclined to give up the effort. 
 
 Then her conscientious wish to make the most of 
 the boy, and a feminine desire to please led her 
 to make still another attempt; and she would be 
 rewarded with some shy mark of liking, a quick 
 look of understanding which gave her courage to 
 go on. Little by little she became interested, then 
 fascinated by the quiet, undemonstrative boy who 
 at first had seemed to her the least promising of 
 her pupils ; and although Jack and Bobbie monopo- 
 lized most of her time and attention, she found 
 that her rare half-hours alone with Danforth were 
 among the pleasantest memories of her day. Once 
 or twice he had mustered courage to ask her to 

 
 BOBBIE'S EXPLORATIONS. 103 
 
 go for a ride with him, and he had shown himself 
 quite ready to accompany her, in the one or two 
 little expeditions she had proposed. 
 
 They started off gayly enough to-day, with 
 Laddie trudging at their heels ; and it was no sur- 
 prise to Margaret to have Danforth suggest, after 
 their errands were done, that they should prolong 
 their walk down the valley, and across the bridge 
 at the lower end of the town. Accordingly they 
 strolled along, enjoying the pleasant October sun- 
 shine and talking of this matter and that, for Dan- 
 forth was in an uncommonly social mood, that day, 
 and Margaret wondered to herself to find him so 
 interesting and companionable. Always sympa- 
 thetic and easy in her manner with boys, she was 
 often conscious that she utterly failed in her 
 efforts to interest them; but with Danforth in 
 his present mood, there was no such effort. He 
 showed himself so intelligent and bright that 
 she forgot the difference in their years, and met 
 him as she would have done a friend of her 
 own age. 
 
 " Let's stop here and take breath, before we go 
 home," he suggested suddenly, as they paused on 
 the bridge leading across a rocky gorge where a 
 little stream tumbled over the boulders below.
 
 104 MARGARET DAVIS, TUTOR. 
 
 " I know a fine place on the bank down here, and 
 we've plenty of time, I'm sure." 
 
 He led the way along the bank to a moss-grown 
 ledge which overlooked the clear depths of the 
 stream, and pointed to a sunny nook facing the 
 west. Margaret sat down there, and he threw 
 himself on the rock at her feet. Before them, the 
 gorge opened out into a little round basin, like the 
 bed of a former lake, and at its western edge lay 
 the scattered buildings of a solitary farm, while 
 along the top of the bluff beyond ran one of the 
 main drives of the city, bordered with stately 
 houses and well-kept lawns. It was Margaret's 
 first visit to the spot, and she gave a little excla- 
 mation of delight, as she saw the pretty picture 
 before her. When at last she looked down again 
 at the boy at her feet, she found that he had rolled 
 over on his back, and was gazing up at her with 
 a curiously intent expression in his blue eyes. 
 
 " Well, Dan, what is it ? " she inquired. 
 
 " Nothing, only I was thinking," he began ; 
 then he asked abruptly, " Has anybody here ever 
 said that you look like my mother, Miss Davis ? " 
 
 Margaret shook her head. 
 
 "No; nobody has spoken of it. Do you think 
 I do, Dan?"
 
 BOBBIE'S EXPLORATIONS. 105 
 
 "I don't know as you really look like her; but 
 you've made me think of her, ever since that first 
 night you came, and I wondered if anybody else 
 had thought of it." 
 
 " What was she like ? " asked Margaret gently. 
 " I think I've never seen a picture of her." 
 
 For his only answer, Danforth took out his 
 watch, opened the back of its case and held it up 
 to Margaret's outstretched hand. She took it 
 from him and looked long at the picture fastened 
 inside the case, a picture of a pretty, delicate young 
 face, in all the freshness of early womanhood. 
 
 " You are like her, Dan," she said, after a mo- 
 ment ; " very much like her. I had always sup- 
 posed that you were the odd one; but now I 
 understand it. Was this taken long before ? " 
 
 " No ; only a month before we started. She 
 wanted to leave it with papa. There were only 
 a few of them, and I had this one. I always keep 
 it in here; but nobody else knows about it, so 
 maybe you'd better not say anything. I wanted 
 to show it to you though," somehow." 
 
 " Thank you, Dan," she answered quickly. "I 
 only wish I might remind you of her, a little ; not 
 to take her place, but to help to fill it, if you'd let 
 me."
 
 106 MARGARET DAVIS, TUTOR. 
 
 Danforth straightened up, and sat with his eyes 
 fixed on the valley at his feet. 
 
 " I don't say much about it, it's no use ; but it 
 seems as if the others didn't need her, quite so 
 much as I did. Bobbie was too little to mind 
 much, and Jack used to be off with papa a good 
 deal ; but I was with her more, and it's been so 
 lonesome since we came here." 
 
 " Poor, mother-sick boy ! " thought Margaret ; 
 but she said nothing. She only bent forward and 
 drew the lad's head over against her, with an 
 indescribably gentle, womanly motion. 
 
 " I was alone with her, you know," he went on, 
 after a little pause. " Bobbie was afraid and 
 cried, and Jack took her away ; but I stayed 
 there, and she held on to my hand all the 
 time. Seems as if I could feel it now. Then 
 we came here, and grandma and Uncle Jerry 
 are just as good as they can be; but nobody's 
 hand ever felt just the same to me, till you came 
 into the library, that night. It hasn't been nearly 
 so lonesome, since then." 
 
 Margaret stooped and passed her hand caress- 
 ingly across the boy's low, broad forehead and 
 freckled cheek. 
 
 " You make me very glad I came here, Dan,"
 
 BOBBIE'S EXPLORATIONS. 107 
 
 she said. " I feel as if perhaps I'd found my 
 proper place." 
 
 In the meantime, Jack was searching the house 
 for his sister, whom he wished to have go out with 
 him for a continuation of the ride which had been 
 cut short by Margaret's errands. But Bobbie was 
 nowhere to be found, and Jack was forced to give 
 up the quest and take the ponies away to the barn 
 to unsaddle them. Danforth too had mysteriously 
 disappeared ; so Jack, finding the bright, bracing 
 October air too fine for inaction, resolved to go 
 over to Riverton for a call on Ellsworth Pierson, 
 whom he had seen but twice before, that day. 
 Accordingly, he sauntered away dpwn the hill, 
 and on towards the bridge leading across the river. 
 He had no especial desire to see Ellsworth ; it was 
 only because he seemed, for the moment, the one 
 available source of entertainment, and because, to 
 Jack's restless activity, there was need for constant 
 occupation. 
 
 On the bridge he paused for a moment, and 
 stood with his elbows on the rails, gazing down at 
 the seething water below him where the river, 
 dashing over the dam just above the bridge and 
 splashing down on the rocks beneath, was churned 
 into a mass of white foam. Behind him, above
 
 108 MARGARET DAVIS, TUTOR. 
 
 the dam, the water lay smooth and quiet ; before 
 him, it went tearing through the narrow gorge 
 where whirlpool and rapid followed one another 
 in quick succession, until it swept around an 
 abrupt turn, half a mile below, raced under the 
 two bridges, tumbled over a second dam and then 
 went sliding away through the fertile meadows, on 
 and on until it reached the sea. 
 
 The river always had a peculiar fascination for 
 Jack, and he invariably chose the narrow footpath 
 along the edge of the upper railroad bridge by 
 the dam, instead of the safer and longer route of 
 the covered bridge below. Here he loved to lin- 
 ger, watching the spray dancing up and down in 
 the sun, or counting the eddies circling about the 
 rocks in mid-stream. To-day he waited there 
 while a long freight train went slowly by him ; 
 then, when the bridge had ceased to throb with 
 the moving weight, he started to go on again, 
 when his eyes suddenly fell upon two little fig- 
 ures passing around the point of rocks, far down 
 the stream. Jack stared at them for a moment ; 
 then he gave a long, low whistle. 
 
 " Scott ! " he remarked comprehensively. " Those 
 girls must have level heads. Any slip there 
 would be sure death for them, with such a slant
 
 BOBBIE'S EXPLOIIATIONS. 109 
 
 on the rocks and that rapid below. That's Bob- 
 bie's doing; Pen never would have had pluck 
 enough to go down there alone. Wonder what 
 Uncle Jerry would say. I believe I'll go down 
 and look after them; I don't suppose they're in 
 any danger, but it makes me squirm a little." 
 And he hurried back to the river bank once more, 
 and started down the gorge. 
 
 Bobbie was the first to see him coming. 
 
 " Pen ! Pen ! " she called, raising her voice to 
 be heard above the roar of the stream. " Here 
 comes Jack." 
 
 " Good ! " And Penelope turned a welcoming 
 glance up the valley to the spot where Jack could 
 be seen, cautiously picking his way along over the 
 pile of boulders in his path. 
 
 "But 'tisn't good, a bit," protested Bobbie. 
 " He'll make us go back home, and I wanted to 
 get down as far as the lower bridge. We're more 
 than half-way there now, and it's too bad to have 
 to give up, after all this." 
 
 Penelope had dropped down on a tempting 
 point of rock. 
 
 " I don't care so very much," she confessed a 
 little wearily. " We've gone about far enough 
 for one day, and I'd just as soon rest a little, 
 before we try the rest."
 
 110 MAEGAEET DAVIS, TUTOR. 
 
 "I wouldn't," returned Bobbie undauntedly. 
 " Nobody else ever did it, I 'most know, and I 
 want to be able to tell of it. If we go home, 
 somebody will be sure to find it out and say we 
 mustn't do it again. Besides, I'd rather not see 
 Jack just now." 
 
 " Why not ? " asked Penelope curiously, as she 
 took advantage of the opportunity to tie up the 
 ribbon, fast slipping from the end of her long yel- 
 low pigtail. 
 
 " Because I don't. You see I cut his old tele- 
 phone wire, just before I left the house ; and he's 
 probably after me now." 
 
 Why, Roberta Spaulding ! How did you ever 
 dare do such a thing?" And Penelope looked up 
 in surprise, for not even three years' intimacy 
 with Bobbie had accustomed her friend to her 
 sudden tempestuous outbursts. 
 
 " I wanted to," explained Bobbie, with impeni- 
 tent dignity. " The boys cared a good deal more 
 about it than they did about me, and I thought 
 'twas time it was stopped. But let's get out of 
 the way before Jack gets here. It will take him 
 ever so long, and I'd rather not see him here. 
 He'll be cross, and it will be better for you not to 
 hear what he says," she added crushingly.
 
 BOBBIE'S EXPLOITATIONS. Ill 
 
 " Where shall we go ? " inquired Penelope 
 meekly, for she never failed to be awed when 
 Bobbie assumed that tone. 
 
 " Come round the point back here, and we'll 
 hide somewhere," suggested Bobbie. " If he can't 
 find us, he'll give up and go home, and then we 
 can go on down to the bridge." And suiting the 
 action to the word, she led the way back up the 
 bank and took refuge behind a jutting point of 
 rocks, where she stood looking about, in search of 
 a suitable hiding-place. " I'll tell you," she said 
 suddenly: "you know we saw those two great 
 pot-holes way up there, when we went down. 
 Let's climb up and get into them. They're 'most 
 dry and plenty large enough to hold us, and Jack 
 would never find us." 
 
 Climbing with the light, sure step of a young 
 chamois, she quickly made her way up the slippery 
 cliff to the spot, only reached by the spring floods, 
 where the rushing waters had worn two round, 
 deep holes in the living rock. In a gorge noted 
 far and wide for the number and size of its pot- 
 holes, these two had been the wonder and admi- 
 ration of generations of geologists, who had 
 marvelled that the little round stones inside could 
 have ground away the rock to a depth of four feet
 
 112 MAKGAKET DAVIS, TUTOR. 
 
 and more. No better hiding-place could have 
 been found, and it was but the work of a moment 
 for the two lithe, active girls to let themselves 
 down into the cool, brown hollows. There was 
 plenty of room for them to stand on the stones 
 which rose out of the stagnant, shallow pools in 
 the bottom ; and by crouching down a little, they 
 were completely hidden from the sight of any one 
 walking along the rocks below. They stood with 
 their heads rising above the edges of their stony 
 nests, like a pair of pretty Jacks-in-the-box, talk- 
 ing softly to each other, until they heard Jack 
 scrambling over the rocks just around the point ; 
 then they cuddled down and waited. 
 
 They could hear the boy's steps coming nearer 
 and nearer, till he paused on the rock below them, 
 so near that it seemed as if he must detect the 
 quick beating of their hearts. They could fancy 
 just how he looked, standing there with his cap on 
 the extreme back of his head and his hands in his 
 coat pockets, as he turned to gaze this way and 
 that, wondering where they could have vanished. 
 In the silence, Penelope could hear a little giggle 
 from Bobbie's hole. Jack, nearer the rushing 
 water, heard nothing. Then he went on again; 
 but presently he retraced his steps, and once more
 
 BOBBIE'S EXPLORATIONS. 113 
 
 took his stand below them and called their names, 
 once, twice, three times. Even thoughtless Bob- 
 bie could hear the little note of alarm in his clear 
 young voice ; but she remained obdurately silent. 
 Again he called them; then, turning slowly, he 
 went back around the point and up the bank. 
 Bobbie waited until she lost the last echo of his 
 footsteps ; then she cautiously raised her head to 
 the surface again. 
 
 " It's all right, Pen," she said, in a low voice. 
 " Didn't I tell you he'd never find us ? Come on, 
 now ; we'll get out, and go on down to the 
 bridge." 
 
 Penelope stood up, and clutched the edge of the 
 rock with both hands, as she said, 
 
 " I shan't be sorry to get out, either, for my hole 
 was a tight fit and my foot went fast asleep. I 
 thought he'd never go." 
 
 " He was a little bit scared," said Bobbie, laugh- 
 ing. " He didn't know where we were, unless 
 we'd ridden off on a pair of broomsticks." And 
 she too grasped the rock, preparatory to climbing 
 out to the surface once more. 
 
 For the next five minutes, the silence was only 
 broken by the sounds of scraping and sliding, and 
 by little gasps of exhaustion. Then Bobbie's voice
 
 114 MARGARET DAVIS, TUTOR. 
 
 was heard again, but it was in a minor key and very 
 plaintive. 
 
 " But I can't get out, Pen." 
 
 " Neither can I." And Penelope's tone was even 
 sadder than Bobbie's. 
 
 "But we must." And Bobbie made another 
 prolonged struggle to escape from her self imposed 
 trap. 
 
 Pen's courage began to fail. 
 
 " It's no use, Bobbie," she said disconsolately, 
 " I've stepped down into the water, and kicked all 
 the patent leather off the toe of my new shoe. 
 Shall we have to stay here always ? " And her 
 voice died away into a sob. 
 
 " Don't be silly, Pen. Let's call Jack back 
 again. I hate to, for he'll laugh at us forever ; but 
 we can't stay here all night. We'll call together, 
 to make more noise." 
 
 They did call, again and again ; but only the 
 rushing water answered them as it swept on its 
 course, mocking their cries with its hoarse mur- 
 mur. Jack, who had climbed up the bank to the 
 road and was rushing towards home as fast as his 
 feet could carry him, was too far away to hear 
 their voices. 
 
 "It's no use," said Bobbie valiantly, as she
 
 BOBBIE'S EXPLORATIONS. 115 
 
 rubbed away the red drops from a long scratch in 
 her rosy palm ; " but crying never did anybody any 
 good. We must try again." 
 
 For a long half-hour they struggled on, now 
 raising themselves for a few inches, now falling 
 back again, now hopeful, now despondent once 
 more. At length they stopped, exhausted, and 
 looked at each other, then out at the yellow sun- 
 shine which was beginning to slant along the water 
 in pale, horizontal beams. 
 
 " It's dreadful, Bobbie. What shall we ever 
 do? " And Penelope began to cry again, this time 
 from sheer nervousness and fatigue. 
 
 " I'm so sorry, Pen. I was the one to blame ; 
 but I never meant to get you into such a scrape," 
 said Bobbie consolingly, for in any real trouble, 
 she was always honorable in taking her share of 
 the blame. 
 
 " I should think it was a scrape." And Penel- 
 ope laughed hysterically through her tears. " I've 
 scratched all the skin off my hands, and torn my 
 jacket, and made an awful hole in my stocking. I 
 don't see why we were such geese as to get in 
 here." 
 
 " You'd better say mice," returned Bobbie, with 
 a giggle, for even in the present crisis, her sense
 
 116 MARGARET DAVIS, TUTOR. 
 
 of fun did not desert her. " I never saw any mice 
 in a better trap ; and grandma and Uncle Jerry will 
 eat me up, like a pair of cats, when we do get out. 
 I wish we never had started ; but, now we're here, 
 we must make the best of it as well as we can. 
 Jack saw us here, and if we don't go home, some- 
 body will come to look for us before long." 
 
 Jack, meanwhile, was more alarmed by the sud- 
 den disappearance of his sister than he cared to 
 admit, even to himself. When he had first caught 
 sight of the two girls, they were in a most danger- 
 ous place, for the smooth, slippery rock slanted 
 directly down into the boiling, racing stream below, 
 and any misstep, as he had said, meant certain and 
 instant death. What had sent the girls wandering 
 into that particular spot, he could not imagine ; 
 but now he was far more occupied in trying to 
 fancy what could have become of them. Except 
 for the one nook hidden behind the point, he had 
 not lost sight of the river bank nor of the road 
 above, so he had been confident that they were 
 concealed beyond the point. However, when he 
 reached the spot, no girls were to be seen. They 
 both were too substantial to have vanished into 
 thin air ; but how else could they have escaped 
 him ? It was like Bobbie to hide ; but he could
 
 BOBBIE'S EXPLORATIONS. 117 
 
 see no place for her, and, strange to say, he never 
 thought of the pot-holes. 
 
 For an instant, a sudden sickening fear made 
 him look down at the green water below, and 
 brought a note of terror into his voice as he 
 stood calling them. He waited for the answer, 
 which did not come ; then he turned away and 
 hurried home, sure that he would find Bobbie 
 standing on the steps and mocking at his fears. 
 Instead, he only found the dangling wires of his 
 telephone, and, on the hall table, the scissors left 
 by Margaret after she had opened Danforth's 
 sleeve. Margaret and Danforth had not yet re- 
 turned ; Grandma Atherton was in her room, and 
 there was no use in frightening her, for it might 
 be a false alarm. Still, where were the girls? 
 His fears mounted with every moment. 
 
 Half an hour later, Gerald Atherton looked up 
 from his writing, to see his nephew standing on 
 the threshold of his office, his face pale and his 
 dark eyes shining with excitement. 
 
 " Uncle Jerry, I can't find Bobbie ! " he began 
 breathlessly. 
 
 " Bobbie ? Well, she isn't here, Jack." 
 
 "Yes, I know; but she's somewhere," urged 
 Jack incoherently. " She isn't at home, and I've
 
 118 MAIIGARET DAVIS, TUTOR. 
 
 just been to Pen's for her ; but I can't find her 
 anywhere." 
 
 "Sit down, Jack, and get your breath." And 
 Uncle Jerry pushed a chair towards him ; but Jack 
 was too restless to take it. 
 
 "You don't see what I mean," he went on 
 desperately. " I'm afraid something has happened 
 to them. The last I saw of them, they were on 
 the rocks just beside the long rapids, and I went 
 to tell them to look out ; but when I came there, 
 they weren't, and I hunted everywhere before I 
 came to you, and now " 
 
 " What ? On the rocks in "the gorge ! " Uncle 
 Jerry sprang to his feet. " Tell me again, Jack, 
 whom do you mean by ' they ' ! " 
 
 "Bobbie and Pen," said Jack more quietly, 
 for he was half-frightened by his uncle's sudden 
 pallor. " They were climbing down through the 
 gorge when I saw them from the bridge, and I 
 went after them, for I was afraid they'd get into a 
 scrape. Then I lost sight of them, and when I 
 came to where I'd seen them, they weren't any- 
 where round. I went home and looked, and then 
 to Pen's ; but I didn't tell why I wanted them. I 
 thought I'd better come to you." 
 
 Uncle Jerry was tossing his papers into his
 
 BOBBIE'S EXPLORATIONS. 119 
 
 desk, preparatory to closing it ; then he caught up 
 his hat, saying briefly, 
 
 " Come with me, Jack. We'll look in the gorge 
 again before we alarm anyone else." And he 
 went hurrying away towards the river. 
 
 The sun was just dropping behind the hills as 
 they crossed the bridge, scrambled down the bank 
 to the water's edge and started on their toilsome 
 climb over the boulders and along the shelving 
 cliffs. Once in a while Jack spoke a word or two, 
 as he turned to give his uncle his hand over some 
 unusually wide crevasse; but, for the most part, 
 they went on in silence, peering this way and that 
 through the deepening twilight, in the vain hope 
 of seeing the two girlish figures. As they neared 
 the point of rocks, and saw no sign of life Jack's 
 heart was heavy with the same old nameless dread, 
 and Uncle Jerry's thoughts were busy with men 
 and grappling-irons and ropes. All at once Jack 
 stopped short. 
 
 " Listen ! " he exclaimed. " What's that ? " 
 For a moment they stood breathless. Then, 
 above the roar of the tide, came two high-pitched 
 cries, 
 
 " Help ! Somebody help ! Co-o-ome he-e-e-ere ! " 
 " It's Bobbie ! " And the color rushed back to
 
 120 MARGARET DAVIS, TUTOR. 
 
 Jack's face, as he shouted, with the full power of 
 his lungs, " All right ; we're coming. Where are 
 you ! " 
 
 " In the big po-o-o-ot-ho-o-o-ole." It was Penel- 
 ope's voice which replied. 
 
 " Why don't you get out ? " called Jack again. 
 
 Hurrying in the direction of the cries, Jack and 
 his uncle rounded the point of rocks, and dis- 
 covered the pair of heads sticking up from their 
 holes just as the answer from two throats came 
 wailing back to them, 
 
 " We can't." 
 
 It was hard-hearted of them both, surely, but 
 the revulsion of feeling was so great, and the sight 
 and sound were so absurd, that together the boy 
 and the man dropped down on the rocks and burst 
 into a roar of laughter, while the imprisoned girls 
 before them begged and remonstrated and wept 
 in vain. The laugh was against them; and by 
 the time they had been fished from their slimy 
 depths and firmly planted, shamefaced, cramped 
 and bedraggled, on top of the rock, Jack felt he 
 could forgive the severed telephone wire, and 
 Uncle Jerry knew that he needed to add no word 
 of reproof for their rashness.
 
 CHAPTER VI. 
 
 LADDIE'S CHAMPION. 
 
 " Is there anything I can do for you, before 
 I go over to Riverton?" asked Margaret, one 
 November afternoon, as she came into the Wilder- 
 ness where Jack sat curled up over the fire, read- 
 ing and nursing a cold which had kept him 
 housed for a day or two. 
 
 " No, I don't think there is, unless you take 
 my head along with you and chuck it into the 
 river," responded Jack, yawning and stretching 
 himself. " It feels larger than an empty trunk, 
 and not half so light. I wish you'd bring me 
 back something to do, though. I might just as 
 well be out, this splendid day." 
 
 " Where are Bobbie and Dan ? " inquired Mar- 
 garet. 
 
 " Bob is over at the Stoddards' and Dan's fussing 
 around the barn with the ponies. Duke has a 
 lame foot, and he's trying to find out where the 
 trouble is. I say," he added, as Margaret turned 
 
 121
 
 122 MARGARET DAVIS, TUTOR. 
 
 to the door ; " if you see Ellie anywhere, send 
 him up here. Tell him I'm dying for something 
 to do." 
 
 " I can go round past his house, just as well," 
 suggested Margaret kindly. 
 
 " Never mind that ; 'twill take you out of your 
 way too much. I only meant if you happened 
 to see him ; that's all." 
 
 Privately making up her mind to make a point 
 of happening to see Jack's friend, Margaret went 
 down-stairs and out of the house. It was one of 
 the first warm days of Indian summer, when 
 the haze lay soft upon the hills, throwing a sil- 
 very light over the ruddy brown oak leaves which 
 still clung to their branches. At her feet, the 
 river tossed and tumbled along, showing clear 
 green spots mingled with the white foam. And 
 at her other hand rose the mountain, sheer and 
 straight. 
 
 "'And a very high mountain overhung the 
 way,' " she said to herself, with a whimsical 
 memory of Jack's struggles with his Caesar, that 
 morning. Then she smiled at the absurdity of 
 associating the majestic progress of the Roman 
 army with the quiet New England road along 
 which she was strolling, with Laddie frisking by
 
 LADDIE'S CHAMPION. 123 
 
 her side. Jack was getting along well in his 
 Latin, she thought. It was only the fifteenth of 
 November, and he was already well on in his 
 year's work ; Danforth, too, for that matter ; only 
 he never made the show that Jack did, and 
 The fifteenth of November ! 
 
 Just a year ago that very afternoon, she had 
 driven up to the park with Hugh. She remem- 
 bered it all so well, the little bay horse and light 
 wagon, the long drive through the city and up 
 the winding road which led,, to the top of the 
 park. Hugh had stopped the horse at the top, 
 and they had sat there for a long time, gazing 
 down upon the city with its elm-fringed streets 
 and smoke-capped factories, and on the sail-dotted 
 harbor beyond, with its long breakwater flanked 
 with the red lighthouse and the tall spindles, 
 and, far, far away, the faint blue outline of the 
 distant island. Even now, it was all so fresh in 
 her mind that she half-believed that she could 
 smell the faint, spicy fragrance of Hugh's inevi- 
 table carnation, and she could see the long shadow 
 thrown across the ground at the foot of the monu- 
 ment. 
 
 How she and Hugh had laughed at the posi- 
 tion of one of the figures on that monument !
 
 124 MARGARET DAVIS, TUTOR. 
 
 Hugh was in an unusually gay mood, that day. 
 He had just got back from a long business trip, 
 and was as happy as a boy in the fine weather, and 
 the drive, and the pleasure of seeing her again. 
 Why- 
 
 Turning suddenly, Margaret called to Laddie 
 who was investigating a neighboring hen-house, 
 to the manifest discomfort of its inmates. There 
 was a little strained note of irritation in her voice, 
 and Laddie thought it best to obey promptly, 
 while his mistress drew a long, slow breath, shut 
 her teeth hard together and quickened her pace 
 toward the bridge. 
 
 Once across the river, she turned aside from her 
 regular route and went up the long, hilly street 
 leading to the Piersons'. Mrs. Pierson herself 
 met her at the door, and insisted upon her coming 
 in for a little call. 
 
 " I'm so sorry that Ellie isn't at home," she said, 
 as she led the way into her pleasant parlor. " I 
 hope Jack isn't going to be ill." 
 
 " Oh, no ; it is really nothing but a cold," Mar- 
 garet replied, as she sat down. "He was out in 
 the rain all last Saturday morning, and then, boy- 
 fashion, he kept on his wet shoes through the 
 afternoon. Sunday and yesterday he felt rather
 
 LADDIE'S CHAMPION. 125 
 
 forlorn ; but to-day he's a good deal better, and 
 had his regular lessons again. Mrs. Atherton 
 thought he'd better not go out for a day or two 
 longer, and he looked so lonely that I said I would 
 stop here and ask Ellie to go over to see him for 
 an hour." 
 
 " I think Ellsworth is over at the Stoddards'," 
 said his mother, with a little laugh. " He sat here 
 doing his examples for to-morrow morning, too 
 busy even to let me speak to him, till all at once 
 he saw Bobbie going home with Penelope. Then 
 he remembered that I had spoken of wanting to 
 send a message to Mrs. Stoddard, and was off like 
 a shot." 
 
 Margaret laughed too. 
 
 "Such devotion ought to be rewarded," she said. 
 " I really can't tell whether Bobbie is just playing, 
 or whether she really is so unconscious of Ellie's 
 adoration for her. They have certainly begun at 
 a most tender age." 
 
 " What can you do ? " asked Mrs. Pierson help- 
 lessly. "Anything that I can say would only 
 make it worse, for it would seem as if we regarded 
 it as a serious affair, and they would pose as a 
 pair of persecuted lovers. It's contrary to all my 
 ideas ; but I am hoping that, if we don't take any
 
 126 MARGARET DAVIS, TUTOR. 
 
 notice of it, and if Bobbie goes on snubbing him 
 as vigorously as she has done, Ellie's love-affair 
 will die a natural death. It is funny, though, in 
 spite of everything; and I have to laugh, even 
 when I long to put him to bed without his supper, 
 as a gentle reminder that he is nothing but an 
 infant." 
 
 "Poor little fellow, he is so in earnest and has 
 so little idea of his own comicality ! " And Mar- 
 garet smiled, as she recalled certain scenes be- 
 tween the two children. "My only fear is that 
 Bobbie will catch the disease from him, and I 
 shudder to think of the teasing they would have 
 to endure from Jack and Danforth, for they 
 neither of them are of a particularly sentimental 
 turn of mind, and they regard girls as an unmiti- 
 gated bore." 
 
 "I wish Ellie did," said his mother fervently. 
 "But I wonder why it is, Miss Davis, that our 
 own love-affairs are always so tragic, and other 
 people's so comic. It's as true with children as it 
 is with grown people." She paused for a moment; 
 then she went on, with an utter change of subject, 
 " I am very much delighted to-day over a bit of 
 family news, and while it can't interest you, I am 
 going to be egotistic enough to tell you about it.
 
 , LADDIE'S CHAMPION. 127 
 
 You know, I suppose, that there has been some 
 trouble about putting in our new electric road; 
 and the president of the company has sent off the 
 head electrician and all his men. I don't know 
 enough about it to understand the justice of the 
 matter ; but what interests me is that my favorite 
 cousin has just been put in charge of the work." 
 
 " How delightful for you ! " And Margaret's 
 voice showed a sympathetic pleasure which her 
 hostess was quick to feel. 
 
 " Yes, I am very happy over 'it, for Hugh is a 
 dear fellow, one of those intimate cousins who 
 seem almost like brothers." 
 
 " And when will he come ? " asked Margaret, 
 conscious that her heart gave a quick throb, at the 
 unexpected coincidence of names. 
 
 " Very soon, for he is to finish putting in the 
 road, and to stay here for a year, as managing elec- 
 trician. I had hoped he would make his home 
 with us ; but he was here a day or two ago, and 
 he said that, for the present at least, he must be 
 farther down town, within reach of the power- 
 house." 
 
 " But you will see him so often." 
 
 "I know that, and I am delighted to have so 
 much. Please tell Mr. Atherton the younger
 
 128 MARGARET DAVIS, TUTQR. 
 
 one, I mean that I shall want him to dine here 
 soon, to meet Mr. Thornton. He will be here the 
 first of next week. But tell me, Miss Davis," she 
 asked, pausing suddenly ; "aren't you working too 
 hard with your pupils ? It seems to me that you're 
 not looking quite as well as you did when you first 
 came up here. I didn't notice it when you came 
 in, after being out in the air." And Mrs. Pierson 
 put on her eye-glasses, and stared at Margaret's 
 white face with a close scrutiny which was almost 
 impossible to bear. 
 
 With a strong effort, Margaret rallied. 
 
 " I'm quite well," she said, with a forced laugh. 
 " Your hill air is agreeing with me splendidly ; I 
 have a most remarkable appetite, and I sleep like 
 a dormouse. I've only a little headache to-day," 
 she added, seeking refuge in woman's one ex- 
 cuse for every unexplained mood and tense of her 
 being. 
 
 " I'm glad if that is all," said the older woman 
 kindly, as Margaret rose to go. " I thought you 
 looked a little tired. Gerald has told me how 
 much time you are giving to those children, and I 
 never see Jack without his quoting Miss Davis in 
 some connection or other. Must you go? Come 
 again."
 
 LADDIE'S CHAMPION. 129 
 
 Once out in the street again, Margaret walked 
 rapidly onward, without knowing nor caring in 
 which direction she turned. She only felt the 
 need of prompt physical action, until she could 
 tire herself out and grow quiet enough to allow 
 herself to think connectedly. She told herself 
 over and over again that there was no possibility 
 that her old friend and Mrs. Pierson's cousin were 
 one and the same person. And yet, it did seem 
 strange that there should be two men named Hugh 
 Thornton, and occupied in the same professional 
 work. And if it should really be her friend, what 
 then ? Living so far out of Riverton, she might 
 not see him at all. Moreover, she was not at all 
 sure that she wished to see him, unless he would 
 give her the opportunity to explain the misunder- 
 standing which had come up between them. Even 
 then, he might not be of the same mind that he 
 was eight months ago. 
 
 "It's too bad! " she said to herself forlornly. "I 
 was just learning to forget all about it, and now it 
 is worse than ever. What's the use of trying?" 
 The last words came with a little half-suppressed 
 sob ; but fortunately there was no one to hear it 
 but Laddie, who showed his sympathy by abandon- 
 ing the pursuit of an inoffensive kitten and coming
 
 130 MAKGAKET DAVIS, TUTOR. 
 
 to frisk about his mistress, leaving the prints of 
 his dusty toes all over the front of her gown. 
 
 " Do you remember him, Laddie ? " Margaret 
 asked half-in voluntarily. "Listen, Laddie; where's 
 Mr. Thornton?" 
 
 For one short instant, Laddie stood still, with 
 his ears cocked forward and his face turned in- 
 quiringly up toward his mistress, who was watch- 
 ing the workings of his canine mind. 
 
 " Go find him, Laddie," she added, after a mo- 
 ment. 
 
 And Laddie gave one wild bark of perfect com- 
 prehension, as he dashed away up the street, not 
 in search of his old friend, but in joyous pursuit of 
 the kitten who had taken advantage of the tem- 
 porary cessation of hostilities, to descend from the 
 tree to which her foe had driven her. 
 
 Unconsciously Margaret had taken the same 
 direction that she and Danforth had done, a month 
 before ; and now, finding herself so near the spot 
 where they had sat and rested, she walked on 
 again until she reached the self-same rock. There 
 she dropped down and, resting her elbows on her 
 knees and her chin in her hands, she sat for a 
 long time, gazing out across the little basin 
 with dreamy, sad, unseeing eyes, while Laddie, at
 
 LADDIE'S CHAMPION. 131 
 
 last reading something of her mood, sat down by 
 her side and rubbed his cold nose against her 
 cheek. 
 
 Half an hour later, she was walking toward 
 home again, with her usual quick, firm step, al- 
 though her cheeks were a little pale and her eyes 
 suspiciously bright. She was just passing through 
 one of the small streets at the lower end of the 
 city, not far from the factories which filled the 
 point between the two rivers, and Laddie, all his 
 antics exhausted, was trudging soberly by her side, 
 when Margaret gave a sudden shriek of terror. 
 
 Rushing out from a little yard close by, a 
 white bulldog which to Margaret's excited imagi- 
 nation looked as large and ferocious as a lion, had 
 pounced upon the unsuspecting Laddie who, all 
 unused to this kind of an attack, had abjectly 
 rolled over on his back and helplessly extended 
 his four legs in the air, in a mute appeal for assist- 
 ance. His adversary, not slow to see his advan- 
 tage and to follow it up, had seized him by the 
 throat in the unrelaxing hold of the bulldog kind ; 
 and for the next few moments, there followed the 
 mingled growls of anger and yelps of pain, so 
 terrible even to the impartial observer, so doubly 
 terrible where one's own dog is the under one in
 
 132 MARGARET DAVIS, TUTOR. 
 
 the fight. Margaret, unusually excitable after her 
 call and her lonely half-hour on the rock, and seri- 
 ously alarmed for her pet, ran frantically forward 
 for a few steps, ran back again ; then, bursting into 
 tears as a prolonged howl from Laddie, and an 
 angry snarl from the other dog showed but too 
 well how the contest must end, she rushed for- 
 ward again and seized Laddie by his fluffy golden 
 tail, in a vain attempt to free him from the iron 
 grip upon his throat. 
 
 " Let 'em alone ! You'll get bit ; and he's my 
 dog, so I'll see fair play," shouted a voice in her 
 ear. 
 
 Turning, she saw a short, stout man in shirt- 
 sleeves and slippers, whose face alone might have 
 told the story of his relationship to the white dog. 
 
 " Do help me ! " she begged. 
 
 The man laughed impudently. 
 
 " What for? Let 'em fight it out. You didn't 
 have to come by here, you know. I aint a-goin' to 
 touch my dog, and you^d better let yours alone. 
 That dog of mine is a daisy." 
 
 Terrified at the face and words of the stranger, 
 Margaret fled to a little distance ; then, as she saw 
 her pet being demolished before her very eyes, 
 she lost all self-control. Regardless of the crowd
 
 LADDIE'S CHAMPION. 133 
 
 rapidly gathering in the street, she sobbed aloud 
 while she hopped up and down on the pavement, 
 and incoherently informed an elderly Irishwoman 
 standing near, that Laddie was her dearest friend 
 and that some one must save him. 
 
 Poor Laddie's struggles were growing faint and 
 fainter, and Margaret had turned away that she 
 might not see the end, when a carriage came in 
 sight, around a corner a little way up the street. 
 As it drew nearer, Margaret looked up ; then, recog- 
 nizing the pale, calm face and great dark eyes of 
 the driver, and realizing that here was a friend at 
 last, she dashed out into the middle of the street, 
 crying, 
 
 " Mr. Huntington, save my dog ! " 
 
 Under some circumstances, it might have been 
 a dramatic situation ; but to call upon a minister 
 of a most unworldly temperament and an undeni- 
 ably delicate physique to interfere in a serious 
 dog-fight, would have presented certain incongrui- 
 ties to Margaret's mind in her calmer moments. 
 However, no such idea occurred to Mr. Hunting- 
 ton, who reined in his horse just as that aston- 
 ished animal was about to step on the excited, 
 tearful young woman in his path, and exclaimed 
 in amazement,
 
 134 MARGARET DAVIS, TUTOR. 
 
 " Miss Davis ! Is it possible ? " 
 
 " Save Laddie ! " she begged again. " He's my 
 own dog, and I do love him so. Do save him ! 
 Help me!" 
 
 Without stopping for a word, Mr. Huntington 
 passed the reins to his companion, leaped to the 
 ground, whip in hand, and walked straight to the 
 scene of action. There is no record that any of 
 King Arthur's knights ever championed the cause 
 of a victim of a dog-fight; but no knight of the 
 Round Table ever showed a greater spirit of 
 chivalry than did the quiet little minister, when 
 he replied to the threats of the angry owner of the 
 dog, with the simple word, 
 
 "This lady has asked me to help her, and I 
 shall do so." 
 
 Then came an exciting interval while Mr. 
 Huntington remorselessly battered the dog's head 
 with the heavy handle of his whip, and the dog's 
 irate master vainly shook his fists and vowed 
 vengeance. Margaret, meanwhile, had squeezed 
 herself between the wheels of the carriage, and 
 buried her head in the lap of Mr. Huntington's 
 elderly housekeeper, as she sobbed forth the 
 minutest details of Laddie's pedigree and accom- 
 plishments. At last it was ended, and Margaret,
 
 LADDIE'S CHAMPION. 135 
 
 alarmed at the sudden silence, looked up to see 
 Mr. Huntington drawn to his fullest height and 
 delivering a few plain truths to the owner of the 
 bulldog, who was examining the head of his fav- 
 orite with apparent anxiety. Then the minister 
 turned on his heel and came back to the carriage, 
 with Laddie limping along beside him. Forgetful 
 of all else, Margaret dropped down on her knees 
 by the dog, and caught his yellow head in her 
 arms. Then she seemed to come to herself, and 
 she rose again, with a blush of shame, as she real- 
 ized her behavior of the last fifteen minutes. 
 
 " Oh, Mr. Huntington, I'm so grateful ! " she 
 said, while the deep color came up over her cheeks 
 and brow. " Please don't think me too great a 
 baby ; but it was all so dreadful, and if it hadn't 
 been for you, Laddie would have been killed. 
 How can I thank you ? " 
 
 "It was nothing," answered the young man 
 kindly ; " I am only too glad that we chanced to 
 be passing. We had been out to see some people 
 across the river, and we took this way home be- 
 cause it was late and we were in a hurry. But I 
 hope that Laddie will be all right now," he added 
 cheerfully. " He was more frightened than hurt." 
 
 "But I hate to have him have such nervous
 
 136 MARGARET DAVIS, TUTOK. 
 
 shocks," said Margaret, with a quick rush of tears 
 which prevented her seeing the little involuntary 
 smile on Mr. Huntington's lips. 
 
 "I am much more afraid that you will be the 
 worse for the shock," he said gravely. " But, at 
 least, you must ride home with us. There isn't 
 much room, and I would walk ; but I think you 
 are in no condition to drive this frisky horse." 
 
 " I can't leave Laddie," protested Margaret. 
 " He is too lame to run and keep up with us, and 
 I dare not leave him. The other dog might come 
 back." And she glanced apprehensively over her 
 shoulder. 
 
 Mr. Huntington hesitated. He saw that she 
 was completely unstrung and nervous from the 
 sudden fright, and that she was in no condition 
 to take the long walk home in the gathering 
 twilight. On the other hand, his carriage was 
 small and was already well-filled, with only him- 
 self and his plump old housekeeper, together with 
 several pails and baskets, emptied in the course 
 of his pastoral calls. He dared not trust either 
 woman to drive the gay little horse he was using, 
 that afternoon, nor could he well ask his aged 
 companion to give up her place to an invalid 
 collie.
 
 LADDIE'S CHAMPION. 137 
 
 "Perhaps," he suggested at length, "perhaps, 
 if we pack ourselves in very closely, we can all 
 ride." 
 
 " Oh, I couldn't allow that ; let me walk home 
 with Laddie. I'm not afraid, at least, not very," 
 said Margaret falteringly. 
 
 " I really dislike to leave you in this part of the 
 town, so late and alone," he answered, with a 
 gentle insistence. "I think we can manage very 
 well, if you will forgive a little crowding. Come." 
 And stretching out his hand, he helped Margaret 
 to climb into the carriage. Then, seizing Laddie 
 in his arms, he put him on the floor, between the 
 baskets, stepped in after him and, all together, 
 they started for home, with Margaret sitting in 
 the housekeeper's lap and embracing a vast tin 
 pail, while Mr. Huntington's foot and Laddie's 
 tail dangled out at the right side of the narrow 
 little carriage.
 
 CHAPTER VII. 
 
 LADDIE STUDIES THEOLOGY. 
 
 IF Margaret had feared that her manner, at 
 dinner that night, might betray any of the agita- 
 tion caused by her call on Mrs. Pierson, she had 
 reason to be grateful to Laddie for saving her 
 from all comments. In their excitement over 
 her account of the contest and her rescue, tin 
 family neglected to give any but a passing atten- 
 tion to Margaret, and attributed her pale face to 
 the result of the fright. But after Laddie's 
 wounds were dressed, and he was put to bed in 
 a corner of Margaret's own room, when the family 
 finally gathered about the table, Margaret told 
 over again the whole story of the fight, sparing 
 herself in no way, but dwelling with a mischievous 
 frankness of detail upon her frantic appeal to Mr. 
 Huntington, his valiant coming to her aid, and his 
 final benevolence in packing them both into his 
 little carriage and bringing them home. 
 
 " 'Twas dreadfully ignominious," she confessed, 
 138
 
 LADDIE STUDIES THEOLOGY. 139 
 
 as soon as she could make herself heard above the 
 shouts of the boys. " I had always supposed that 
 I should be a model of calmness in an emergency. 
 I have a dim idea that I cried out loud, and I 
 know that I informed Mr. Huntington that Laddie 
 was my only friend on earth, but that he might 
 have him, to pay for saving him. What must the 
 man think of me ? " 
 
 " When he drove up to the house, he looked as 
 if he thought you took up a good deal of room," 
 said Jack, laughing again at the recollection. 
 " The poor man was half out of the carriage, and 
 Laddie looked ready to tumble out, too, perched 
 up on top of that basket. I hope you had a 
 pleasant ride." 
 
 A week later, Mr. Huntington called to inquire 
 for the invalid and the invalid's mistress. Mar- 
 garet, by that time, had fully recovered from the 
 shock and excitement, and she apologized so 
 merrily for her misbehavior that Mr. Huntington 
 gained the impression that it was rather an ac- 
 complishment than otherwise for a young woman 
 to lose her self-control under trying circumstances, 
 and demand the protection of a comparative 
 stranger. Then Laddie was brought in to make 
 friends with his preserver, who, influenced as
 
 140 MARGARET DAVIS, TUTOR. 
 
 much by Laddie's mistress as by Laddie himself, 
 petted the dog in a way which he repented later, 
 for Laddie had an excellent memory and rarely 
 forgot a friend or a foe. 
 
 It would be hard to say just what caused the 
 luckless combination of circumstances which took 
 place, the next Sunday morning. Margaret had 
 announced her intention of staying at home from 
 church with Grandma Atherton, who was not 
 feeling quite well, so the three children had gone 
 away with their uncle and grandfather, leaving 
 the house in perfect quiet. 
 
 Much as Margaret enjoyed the ministrations of 
 Mr. Huntington, who was always at ease and at 
 his best in his desk, she found the Sunday-morning 
 hour spent in church rather a trying one, owing 
 to the eccentricities of Grandpa Atherton. On 
 account of his extreme deafness, the family occu- 
 pied one of the front pews of the large church, 
 where, Sunday after Sunday, Grandpa Atherton 
 took his place and followed the opening services 
 of the day with profound interest. Then, as soon 
 as Mr. Huntington, sermon in hand, advanced to 
 the desk, Margaret knew that the time had come 
 when she must use all her self-control to keep 
 from laughing. During the early part of the
 
 LADDIE STUDIES THEOLOGY. 141 
 
 sermon, Grandpa Atherton sat with strained atten- 
 tion and uplifted trumpet, to catch the words which 
 fell from the lips of the young clergyman, nodding 
 violently from time to time, in vigorous approval 
 of his sentiments. This was bad enough for any 
 one not used to his peculiarities ; but unfortunately 
 Grandpa Atherton did not stop here. On the 
 contrary, as soon as the minister let fall some 
 opinion with which the old man did not quite 
 agree, or when Grandpa Atherton thought that he 
 had listened long enough and it was time for the 
 sermon to be ended, he had a fashion of suddenly 
 dropping his trumpet, whirling around in his pew- 
 corner until he could fix his eyes far back on the 
 side wall of the church, and sitting there in an 
 attitude of stolid unconcern most disheartening to 
 his youthful spiritual adviser. 
 
 It had taken the children a long time to get 
 used to the demonstrations of their grandfather, 
 and even now Uncle Jerry found it necessary to 
 put Jack at the extreme inner end of the pew, 
 and to have Bobbie sit at his other side, in order 
 to prevent an explosion. But for Margaret, who 
 lost her self-control far too easily, there was no 
 such way of escape. She found herself watching 
 for the dreaded moment with such anxiety lest she
 
 142 MARGARET DAVIS, TUTOR. 
 
 should disgrace herself, that when it really did 
 come, she was farther than ever from being able to 
 meet it with calmness. On this account, she 
 made the most of every excuse to absent herself 
 from church, whenever Grandpa Atherton was 
 going to be present. Moreover, since her late 
 adventure with Mr. Huntington, she felt that it 
 would be more than usually difficult to sit un- 
 moved under his preaching, for they both were 
 conscious of an almost irresistible desire to laugh 
 outright, whenever they came face to face. 
 
 This particular morning was one of those bright, 
 breezy days which seem to arouse a spirit of hilar- 
 ity in everything which is young and alive. While 
 she was dressing, Margaret had seen Danforth 
 racing up and down the lawn with Laddie who, 
 in spite of an ugly wound just back of his yellow 
 ruff, had quite recovered his spirits, and who was 
 already nearly as fond of the boy as he was of his 
 mistress. Later, she had stood in the door, watch- 
 ing them as they set off for church, and laughing 
 at the antics of Jack and Bobbie who brought up 
 the rear of the little procession. Fortunately for 
 her peace of mind, she was unable to see what 
 followed. 
 
 The opening invocation and anthem were ended,
 
 LADDIE STUDIES THEOLOGY. 143 
 
 and Mr. Huntington had just risen to read the 
 scripture lesson, when there was heard a little 
 creak from the light, swinging door at the en- 
 trance, followed by a soft pad, pad, coming up 
 the aisle. A moment later, Grandpa Atherton 
 was aroused from his devotions by a violent push 
 against his knee. As he involuntarily moved a 
 little to make room for the supposed stranger, 
 Laddie wriggled past him into the pew, wagging 
 his tail in rapturous welcome. He sniffed at each 
 member of the family in turn and, mounting the 
 seat by Danforth's side, he pressed his cold nose 
 against the boy's neck, with a suddenness which 
 called forth a half-stifled exclamation from Dan- 
 forth and a giggle from Jack. Then, as the dog 
 settled down upon the cushion, his wandering 
 attention was caught by the sound of Mr. Hunt- 
 ington's voice, and he cocked up his ears in glad 
 recognition. Here was surely a friend, and one 
 who had been good to him, reasoned Laddie, and 
 he had neglected to express his joy at the unex- 
 pected meeting. Before Danforth could divine 
 his intention and lay a restraining hand upon his 
 collar, Laddie had jumped from his seat, pushed 
 his way out into the aisle again, and gone rushing 
 forward to the desk, swinging his tail round and
 
 144 MARGARET DAVIS, TUTOR. 
 
 round, in a series of circles symbolic of his com- 
 plete happiness in once again beholding his pre- 
 server. 
 
 In the midst>of his reading, Mr. Huntington 
 had been following the dog's performances, with 
 amused eyes ; but he was not prepared for the 
 greeting which followed, and he tottered in his 
 place as Laddie, rising on his hind legs, plunged 
 forward upon him, resting his paws on the minis- 
 terial arm, and stretching up to caress the min- 
 isterial cheek with fervor. It was only the work 
 of a moment ; then, as the dog dropped back 
 again, Mr. Huntington gave a sigh of relief, and 
 breathed up a voiceless petition that Laddie might 
 be moved to go away. Nothing, however, was 
 further from Laddie's mind. His new position at 
 his friend's side was quite to his liking. In spite 
 of Danforth's suppressed calls and snapping of his 
 fingers, Laddie sat immovable beside the desk, 
 with his soft yellow ears turned expressively for- 
 ward and his tongue lolling out of his mouth, as 
 if in perfect derision at his temporary master, 
 while he turned now and again to glance up at 
 Mr. Huntington with a deprecating yawn, which 
 was even more trying to the young clergyman than 
 were the demonstrations of Grandpa Atherton.
 
 LADDIE STUDIES THEOLOGY. 145 
 
 Already there were signs of an outbreak on the 
 part of the younger members of the congregation, 
 and Uncle Jerry was just bending over to tell 
 Danforth to go forward and remove the dog by 
 force, when the final catastrophe occurred. Dur- 
 ing some moments, Mr. Huntington's increasing 
 nervousness had been evident to all, for the color 
 in his cheeks had grown bright, and again and 
 again his finger had sought his unsteady lip. At 
 length, in his confusion, he made a little hasty 
 gesture which knocked down from the desk his 
 carefully-written sermon. 
 
 Now at home Laddie's chief amusement had con- 
 sisted in what Mollie called " reading the paper " ; 
 and she never wearied of giving him a loosely- 
 folded newspaper, and watching him while he 
 wildly flapped it to and fro, to enjoy its rattle, or 
 plowed it along the floor, worrying it as he would 
 have done a sleepy kitten. But since he had 
 come to live at the Athertons', no papers had been 
 offered for his perusal, and Laddie's puppy soul 
 was longing for an old-time frolic. Here and 
 now was his chance, and he determined to make 
 the most of it. Darting forward, he caught up 
 the loose sheets of manuscript and went galloping 
 across the platform, growling and shaking his head
 
 146 MARGARET DAVIS, TUTOR. 
 
 with a violence that sent bits of paper flying far 
 to the left and right, while he flirted his tail in 
 contemptuous defiance of his pursuant who dodged 
 about the desk, vainly seeking to catch him. The 
 unsanctified game of tag lasted for some moments ; 
 but the limits of the platform were too narrow and 
 Laddie felt that he needed a wider field; so, 
 leaping down to the floor and scurrying past the 
 horrified occupants of the Atherton pew, he went 
 plunging down the aisle, with his nose, sermon 
 and all, rooting along on the carpet and leaving 
 behind him a trail strongly suggestive of hare and 
 hounds. Then the swinging doors creaked and 
 clattered as he dashed through them, and the 
 astonished congregation could only join their 
 pastor in an ill-suppressed laugh, while Laddie 
 went capering away toward home, bearing in his 
 mouth their weekly portion of exhortation and 
 encouragement for their spiritual needs. 
 
 From her seat by the front window, Margaret 
 saw him come leisurely strolling up the hill with 
 a solemn air of preoccupation which was in 
 perfect harmony with the day, ' while from his 
 mouth there dangled a few dingy shreds of paper. 
 Experience had taught her, that, with Laddie, this 
 subdued mood was always an infallible sign that
 
 LADDIE STUDIES THEOLOGY. 147 
 
 he had been in mischief, so she hastily dropped 
 her book, and went out on the steps to investigate. 
 At sight of his mistress, Laddie paused and 
 abstractedly contemplated the fleecy white clouds 
 above his head ; then, seeing that there was no 
 way of escape, he came forward and deposited 
 his trophy at Margaret's feet. Margaret looked 
 at the soiled, crumpled paper before her, and 
 picked it up gingerly ; the next moment she sank 
 down on the step, with a little groan of mortifica- 
 tion. She had easily recognized the writing as 
 that of Mr. Huntington, and on the scrap of paper 
 in her hand, she read the words, 
 
 "And finally, my brethren, the apostle tells us 
 that we ought to be strong and steadfast in the 
 pursuit of the enemy. But who is the enemy, 
 and how shall we overtake him ? " 
 
 If it had been difficult for Margaret to face Mr. 
 Huntington after her excited appeal for his help, 
 it was doubly so now, since Laddie's latest esca- 
 pade; and not even the minister's courteous 
 answer to her note of apology could entirely 
 remove her feeling that her pet had brought ever- 
 lasting disgrace upon her head. However, within 
 a few days Margaret forgot all else, in her anxiety 
 about the dog who suddenly began to droop in an
 
 148 MARGARET DAVIS, TUTOR. 
 
 inexplicable way and grew rapidly weaker, in 
 spite of the constant attentions of his mistress 
 and Danforth. At length, yielding to his nephew's 
 entreaties, Uncle Jerry sent up a doctor to look 
 at the invalid, and, after a careful examination, 
 Laddie was pronounced to be suffering from the 
 effects of his still unhealed wound. 
 
 " The best thing for him," said the doctor, just 
 as he was going away from the house ; " the best 
 thing for him would be to take him down to the 
 river, some warm morning, and let him have a 
 good bath. The more water he has, the better 
 for him, provided he doesn't take cold." 
 
 Accordingly, on the next clear day Danforth 
 started off to give Laddie his prescribed bath in 
 a little, still cove in the river bank 4 not far above 
 the dam. Jack and Bobbie stood looking after 
 them as they walked away down the hill, with 
 Laddie, too weak for any puppy pranks, trudging 
 along dejectedly at the end of his lead, and Dan- 
 forth carrying a pair of tall rubber boots tied 
 together and slung over his shoulder, so that, if 
 need be, he could encourage Laddie by wading 
 into the water ahead of him. It had been per- 
 fectly characteristic of the three children that, 
 while Jack and Bobbie had been loud in their
 
 LADDIE STUDIES THEOLOGY. 149 
 
 expressions of pity for the dog, and anxious that 
 he should have the best of care, Danforth had 
 been the one to come to Margaret's help, and offer 
 to go with him upon the somewhat disagreeable 
 errand. In fact, Margaret had soon discovered 
 that it always seemed so much easier for Danforth 
 to do the unpleasant things, that his brother and 
 sister usually stood aside and allowed him to take 
 the lead. 
 
 Three quarters of an hour later, Grandma 
 Atherton came hurrying into the library where 
 Margaret was helping Jack to stumble through 
 the first page of the Anabasis. Her face was 
 pale, and her dainty lace cap was pushed slightly 
 to one side, an evidence of great excitement in 
 the precise little woman. 
 
 " Oh, Miss Davis ! " she began, as soon as she 
 reached the threshold ; " there's a man coming up 
 the hill, a strange man with Danforth's boots in 
 his hand. Can't you come and speak to him ? I 
 know something terrible ha happened, and I can't 
 listen to it. Do come quick ! " 
 
 For the past two or three weeks, Grandma 
 Atherton had not been quite well, and this was 
 doubtless the cause of the unreasoning alarm 
 which had broken down her usual calmness.
 
 150 MARGARET DAVIS, TUTOR. 
 
 Without stopping to convince her that, if anything 
 very serious had occurred, the man would have 
 brought home, not Danforth's boots, but Dan forth 
 himself, Margaret hurried out to the porch. With 
 the volubility of his race, the man hailed her, the 
 moment she appeared. 
 
 " Do these boots belong to the b'y as lives here, 
 Miss?" he asked, waving his burden in explana- 
 tion of his words. " 'Cause, if they does, I'm to 
 say that the dog's took sick, in the road by the 
 bridge, and he wants the man to come and help 
 get him home." 
 
 " Is the dog worse ? " inquired Margaret anx- 
 iously. 
 
 " 'Deed an' he is ; he's most dead," was the en- 
 couraging answer. " The boss and me found 'em 
 together by the side of the road, the dog just 
 coming out of a fit, and the b'y's arrm round his 
 neck, and him cryin' like a girl. He's got sand 
 in him, though," the man added admiringly. " We 
 told him 'twasn't any^use, and he might as well 
 let the dog lie there and die ; but he stuck to it 
 he'd stay, so the boss told me to come up here and 
 leave word about it." 
 
 Margaret heard no more, for she hurried away 
 to the barn in search of the coachman, whom she
 
 LADDIE STUDIES THEOLOGY. 151 
 
 sent to the rescue, with a wheelbarrow to serve 
 as an ambulance. Then she went back to the 
 house to reassure Grandma Atherton, and to 
 wander restlessly from window to window, watch- 
 ing to see Laddie brought home to her, still and 
 lifeless. They came in sight at last, Danforth 
 leading the way, followed by the man trundling 
 the wheelbarrow ; and as she beheld them, Mar- 
 garet felt tempted to rub her eyes, to make sure 
 that she saw clearly. Bolt upright in his novel 
 chariot sat Laddie, smiling broadly and evidently 
 enjoying his ride to the utmost, while the sand in 
 his full ruff and the tangled hair on his back were 
 all the traces left that he had just been passing 
 through the crisis of his illness, and was now on 
 the way to recovery. The dog himself was in a 
 much better condition than poor Danforth, who 
 came dragging himself wearily up the hill, looking 
 tired and dejected. As soon as she could free her- 
 self from Laddie's exuberant caresses, Margaret 
 went forward and took the boy's hand in hers. 
 
 " They told me he was going to die," he said 
 simply; "but I wasn't going to leave him till you 
 came." 
 
 Later, in the midst of the recital of his adven- 
 tures, Danforth broke off abruptly, saying,
 
 152 MAJBGAKET DAVIS, TUTOR. 
 
 "But wasn't it funny about the man, Miss 
 Davis?" 
 
 " What man ? " she asked. 
 
 " The one that sent the Irishman up here. I 
 believe he thought I'd stolen the dog.' You see, 
 he came along when I was sitting on the grass 
 beside the road, and he asked what was the matter. 
 I told him, and he bent down to look at Laddie ; 
 then, all at once, he turned and stared hard at me. 
 I didn't know what to make of it at first, till he 
 began feeling around in Laddie's ruff for a collar. 
 Then he asked if the dog belonged to me, and 
 I said yes, at least that he lived at our house. I 
 didn't mean to lie about it ; but he acted so queer 
 that I didn't know what to say. He looked him 
 all over again, and I heard him mumbling some- 
 thing to himself about having been sure 'twas the 
 same dog." 
 
 Margaret rose abruptly and walked to the win- 
 dow, where she stood looking out, while the boy 
 went on, 
 
 " He told me that he thought the worst was 
 over, and Laddie might be better again soon, and 
 he sent his man up here for me. He was as kind 
 as he could be, if it hadn't been for his acting so 
 funny about my having the dog. He said he was
 
 LADDIE STUDIES THEOLOGY. 153 
 
 at church last Sunday, and he asked if this wasn't 
 the same collie that stole the minister's sermon," 
 added Danforth, with an irrepressible giggle. 
 
 " What sort of a looking man was he ? " asked 
 Margaret slowly, without turning her face from 
 the window. 
 
 " A good-looking one ; not handsome a bit, but 
 sort of splendid, somehow," answered Danforth 
 promptly. " He was a gentleman and not so very 
 old, with dark hair and a little brown mustache. 
 I remember noticing a little red and white button 
 in his coat, when his overcoat slipped sideways 
 once. 'Twasn't anybody I ever saw before, and I 
 know almost everybody here." 
 
 " I don't see what business 'twas of his, whose 
 dog Laddie is," said Jack resentfully. " Good for 
 you, Dan, for not letting on that he wasn't yours ! 
 You'd better look out for Laddie, Miss Davis, for 
 a while. Most likely the man's a sneak-thief, 
 dressed up as a gentleman." 
 
 But Margaret made no reply. She had silently 
 left the room.
 
 CHAPTER VIII. 
 
 IN THE FIRELIGHT. 
 
 To enter the drawing-room at the Atherton 
 house was to feel that one had suddenly stepped 
 out of this over-decorated end of the nineteenth 
 century, and into an age when be-ribboned chairs 
 and meaningless ^bric-a-brac were alike unknown. 
 It was the room which old Captain Atherton had 
 prepared for his bride, and except for a grand 
 piano at one end of the long room, and the little 
 tokens of every-day use which lay scattered about 
 on chairs and tables, the place was left just as it 
 had been on the day it was completed. 
 
 Above the panelled wainscoting, the walls were 
 covered with a priceless paper, showing a Vene- 
 tian landscape. Here a gondola floated down a 
 wide canal before a row of marble buildings ; there 
 the Bridge of Sighs spanned the stream, and there 
 again a group of gorgeously-dressed women chatted 
 idly upon the steps of a lofty palace. At one side 
 of the fireplace, some blooming maidens and their 
 
 154
 
 IN THE FIRELIGHT. 155 
 
 wasp-waisted swains were having a picnic, under 
 the trees on an island ; on the other, a vicious-look- 
 ing goat was nipping the grass by the roadside. It 
 was evident that either the paper had been made 
 for the room, or the room had been designed with 
 reference to the paper, since each picture fitted its 
 own particular space between door and window, 
 while the whole effect of the fo'ur walls was as 
 complete and harmonious as any modern cyclo- 
 rama. Arranged in each corner, with the old-time 
 love of symmetry, was a marble bust of rare work- 
 manship ; and scattered about the room was an 
 array of spindle-legged chairs, claw-footed tables 
 and dainty footstools, enough to dazzle the eye 
 and satisfy the longings of the most rapacious of 
 collectors. 
 
 Early one evening, a week or two before Christ- 
 mas, Margaret was sitting by the drawing-room 
 fire. Except for Laddie who, fully recovered 
 from his recent illness, was snoring on the floor 
 at her feet, she was quite alone, for Grandpa and 
 Grandma Atherton were in the library with their 
 son, and the children were up in the Wilderness, 
 busy with their preparations for the coming Christ- 
 mas. Margaret was feeling a little tired, that 
 night. The lessons had gone hard in the morning,
 
 156 MARGARET DAVIS, TUTOR. 
 
 for Bobbie had been in one of her perverse moods, 
 and would neither work herself nor let the boys 
 work, until her tutor had spoken to her more 
 sharply than she had ever done before. Now 
 Margaret was wondering whether she had been 
 too severe, and half reproaching herself for her 
 own lack of patience ; but Bobbie's pranks and 
 the boys' idleness had driven her nearly distracted. 
 Their work must be done, and done before one 
 o'clock ; and what else could she do ? Still, she 
 regretted her reproof almost before it was uttered. 
 No true lover of children ever gives them even 
 the most needed rebuke, without suffering from it 
 much more than they do. 
 
 She picked up her book again to go on with her 
 reading. It was a series of light essays, a curious 
 mingling of fun and earnest, which Gerald had 
 brought home, a few days before ; and Margaret 
 had been hastily glancing through it, that evening. 
 But the blue flame dancing lazily above the wood 
 on the andirons, proved more attractive than the 
 book, and Margaret dropped the little volume into 
 her lap, and fell to musing again. It was almost 
 Christmas, she thought, and in a few days more 
 she would see the dear home faces again. All in 
 all, her experiment was proving a success. For
 
 IN THE FIRELIGHT. 157 
 
 the past three months she had been very happy ; 
 and the children, in spite of the naughtiness of the 
 morning, were children quite after her own heart, 
 simple, natural and, best of all, alive. The family, 
 too, was a most delightful one, so free from all false 
 ambition and social sham, but with an atmosphere 
 of reality and genuineness which formed a refresh- 
 ing change from the social struggles of too many 
 of the people whom she met. She had made a 
 few pleasant acquaintances in Riverton, and she 
 almost regretted that her promised winter of free- 
 dom was nearly half ended. 
 
 Fate had been kind to her, very kind, if only it 
 had not sent Hugh to be quite so near her. She 
 had heard of him repeatedly, of his efficient work 
 on the electric road, of his genial manner in meet- 
 ing new friends. She rarely heard of him in 
 society, however, and she wondered a little at that, 
 when he used to be so gay, and so fond of a 
 variety of interests to keep him occupied outside 
 of business hours. She had not met him at all ; 
 but that was scarcely strange since she lived so very 
 quietly, and only went out occasionally, at the in- 
 vitation of some of the Athertons' intimate friends. 
 She marvelled at herself, that she never wearied 
 of this life which would have seemed so monot-
 
 158 MARGARET DAVIS, TUTOR. 
 
 onous to her, only a year ago. Now she en- 
 joyed it, and she found that her one absorbing 
 interest lay in the children and their doings. Was 
 her life narrowing, she asked herself. 
 
 Then, by an involuntary change of thought, she 
 went back to what Grandma Atherton had been 
 telling her, that morning, about Mr. Huntington. 
 She regretted now her amusement at his shabby 
 coats and his various makeshifts to keep himself 
 dressed properly for his calling ; for she had heard 
 the story of his life, the old familiar story of the 
 father living beyond his income, and dying just 
 as the son was completing his studies, to leave 
 that son burdened with his debts and with the 
 support of his mother. Little by little, by eking 
 out his small salary with tutoring and doing hack 
 work on an insignificant magazine, the debts were 
 being paid, and his mother was able to keep her 
 old home. No wonder that the son looked pale 
 and shabby ; but, after all, what a glorious life to 
 live, a life whose only luxury lay in hard work 
 done for the sake of conscience, and in countless 
 little kindnesses to his fellow-men who were worse 
 off than himself! But even the denial and the 
 drudgery brought their own blessing, Margaret 
 thought to herself as she remembered the man's
 
 IN THE FIRELIGHT. 159 
 
 face and manner. No one would ever have called 
 Mr. Huntington an unhappy man ; and his life 
 among people spent in doing good, in extending 
 the cheery word and the helping hand to all whom 
 he met, was bringing him in a rich harvest of love. 
 The very children in the streets used to stop him 
 for a few words; and Margaret smiled as she 
 remembered how she had seen a little urchin, one 
 day, stretching up to offer Mr. Huntington a bite 
 of his rosy-cheeked apple, and how pleasantly the 
 young minister had bent down and tasted the 
 fruit, though he knew that he was in the middle 
 of a crowded street. 
 
 " I used to think that I should like to marry," 
 he had told Grandma Atherton, with unconscious 
 pathos; "but now I know that it is impossible, 
 at least, as long as my mother lives." 
 
 Was it so with everybody, she wondered. Then 
 she roused herself with a little impatient shake, and 
 looked at her watch. Half past eight ! She had 
 been dreaming there by the fire for an hour. How 
 disgraceful for an active, energetic young woman, 
 living in the end of the nineteenth century, to waste 
 her time in any such fashion ! She rose, and 
 walked restlessly up and down the room ; then, 
 obeying some sudden impulse, she sat down at the
 
 160 MARGARET DAVIS, TUTOR. 
 
 piano and began to sing. Three minutes later, 
 Jack appeared on the threshold. 
 
 " I say," he remarked so suddenly that Margaret 
 gave a little start of surprise ; " why didn't you 
 say so before ? " 
 
 "Say what? " she answered, as she dropped her 
 hands from the keys and turned to face him. 
 
 "Say you could sing, of course," responded 
 Jack, coming forward to her side. 
 
 "I can't, much," she said, laughing at his 
 aggrieved tone. "I've taken lessons for the last 
 two or three years; but I haven't any especial 
 talent for it. Besides, I thought you said you 
 hated music." 
 
 "So I do, Bobbie's everlasting scales and that 
 rubbish," he answered frankly. " Yours isn't like 
 that. Go ahead and sing some more ; I like it." 
 
 Margaret sat for a moment, silently running 
 over her small repertoire. Her teacher had been 
 a man of strictly classical tastes, and his selections 
 for her voice were scarcely of a nature to interest 
 a boy like Jack. At last she drifted into a little 
 French love song, to which her young auditor 
 listened in silence. 
 
 " Don't you know something a little more 
 cheerful than that ? " he demanded, as soon as the
 
 IN THE FIRELIGHT. 161 
 
 last note had died away. "That gives me the 
 blues, it's so doleful." 
 
 Margaret laughed outright. Evidently Jack 
 had not a sentimental soul. 
 
 "How will this go?" she asked, as she broke 
 into the prelude of a rollicking German student 
 song which Hugh had taught her. 
 
 She sang the song through to the last of its 
 many verses, throwing herself into it with an 
 abandonment which made her quite unconscious 
 that Uncle Jerry was softly opening the doors 
 between the library and drawing-room. At the 
 end, she was saluted with a double burst of 
 applause, for Danforth had followed his brother 
 into the room, and stood leaning against the 
 mantel. 
 
 "That's just fine," said Jack approvingly. 
 " Give us another like it." 
 
 " I'm afraid that I don't know any more," she 
 said, as she rose and came forward to join the boys 
 by the fire. " I have a whole book of those student 
 songs at home, though, and if you wish, I'll bring 
 it up here, when I come back after the holidays." 
 
 " Why, are you going home for Christmas ? " 
 And Danforth looked up at her, with disappoint- 
 ment written on every line of his face.
 
 1G2 MAEGAEET DAVIS, TUTOE. 
 
 " Didn't you know it ? I supposed that it was 
 all understood, long ago," she answered, with a 
 keen sense of pleasure at the boy's tone of regret. 
 
 " No ; I thought of course you'd be here," he 
 said. " 'Twon't be half so much fun without you ; 
 and we had our plans all made " 
 
 " Shut up, Dan ! " said his brother so warningly 
 that Danforth's color came, and he relapsed into 
 silence again. 
 
 " I am*so glad, if you are going to miss me," 
 said Margaret. "But I shall leave Laddie to 
 represent me, and it will be for only two weeks ; 
 that isn't very long." 
 
 "Well, if you're through singing," said Jack 
 restlessly, "I'll go back and help Bob with her 
 pastry. She and Pen have used more than a 
 barrel of mucilage, this Christmas, and now Bob- 
 bie has taken to paste. She says it's easier than 
 'tis to sew things ; she'll be pasting together her 
 clothes, yet." And he departed, whistling " Danny 
 Deever " at the top of his lungs. 
 
 There was silence for a moment after he had 
 gone ; then, as Margaret dropped into a chair 
 and looked up at Dan forth who was still leaning 
 against the mantel, with his foot resting on one of 
 the andirons, she said interrogatively,
 
 IN THE FIRELIGHT. 163 
 
 "Well, Dan?" 
 
 " I was trying to count up how long 'twas since 
 you came here," he answered. " It seems kind of 
 long and kind of short, you know." 
 
 " No ; I don't think I do know exactly," she 
 replied, laughing at his explanatory tone. 
 
 " Why, it doesn't seem but a few days since 
 you came, and yet I feel as if you'd always lived 
 here, for you fit in, somehow. Only you aren't a 
 bit of a teacher." 
 
 " Thank you, Dan," she responded gravely. 
 
 " No ; I don't mean that." And Danforth blushed 
 at his own stupidity. "But you truly aren't like 
 any other ; they're mostly poky and cross. Don't 
 you know what I mean?" he added despairingly. 
 " I haven't said it at all as I started to ; but there 
 is a difference. You aren't schoolma'amish, like 
 the others." 
 
 " Perhaps because I never was a schoolma'am 
 before this," suggested Margaret laughing. " I'm 
 so glad if I'm not, Dan, for it proves that one can 
 teach without being too much demoralized; and 
 I've heard ever so many people say that they 
 could always tell a teacher by her voice and 
 manner." 
 
 " You mostly can, " said Danforth reflectively ;
 
 164 MARGARET DAVIS, TUTOR. 
 
 " only you aren't like the usual run of them. It's 
 fun to work with you, somehow ; you make it so 
 much easier than Duffy did." 
 
 "You certainly are getting along well," said 
 Margaret thoughtfully. "At this rate you and 
 Jack will easily be ready for college a year from 
 this fall." 
 
 " And then you'll go away ? " 
 
 For her only answer, Margaret put out her 
 hand, and drew the boy down into a low chair 
 by her side. 
 
 " You'll spoil me, Dan, and make me unfit to 
 live with, if you talk like that," she said, after a 
 moment. " You know I only came here for a 
 year anyway ; and besides, when you are in col- 
 lege, you'll be right where I can see you often." 
 
 " But you'll stay till we're ready to enter ? " 
 urged Danforth eagerly. 
 
 " I can't tell," she answered slowly. " For 
 most reasons I'd like to stay, for I have enjoyed 
 my being here ; but my mother may want me at 
 home again. Of course I'd rather finish you up 
 myself, instead of leaving you to another tutor or 
 to Mr. Dufferin." 
 
 "I won't go back to Duffy, anyway." And 
 Danforth's brow wrinkled into a sombre frown,
 
 IN THE FIRELIGHT. 165 
 
 at the thought of his former tyrant. "I never 
 did anything under him, Miss Davis. Do you 
 know what he told Uncle Jerry about me ? " 
 
 "What was it?" 
 
 " He said I was very dull, and that my worst 
 fault was my perfect indifference. I couldn't 
 do anything to suit him, no matter what 'twas." 
 And Danforth's scowl grew deeper, as he crossed 
 his legs and began to pick at the sole of his 
 shoe. 
 
 " Stop scowling at me," said Margaret playfully. 
 " How can you expect me to talk to you if you 
 glower like that? But really, Dan," she went on 
 more seriously; "I don't think Mr. Dufferin was 
 quite fair in what he said to you and about you. 
 He didn't understand you, and I think he fright- 
 ened you a little bit more than he meant to do. I 
 haven't found you either indifferent or dull, Dan ; 
 but a good worker." 
 
 Danforth's face brightened under her praise ; 
 then it grew thoughtful, as she went on, 
 
 "Dan, my boy, may I tell you just what I think 
 about you? Remember, I'm not the tutor, to- 
 night, only the friend you said I might be ; and 
 it's because I care for you that I want to talk this 
 over."
 
 166 MARGARET DAVIS, TUTOR. 
 
 " Go on, please." And Danforth bent forward 
 to stir up the fire ; then he drew his chair a little 
 nearer to Margaret's side. 
 
 " I don't know just how to begin," said Marga- 
 ret, as she looked into the dark blue eyes which 
 met hers so honestly. " You see, Dan, you are 
 just where you've proved that you can do splendid 
 work ; and I want you to keep up to it, when it 
 isn't quite so easy. You have a good mind, and 
 you can work like a beaver when you are inter- 
 ested ; but, under Mr. Dufferin, if you weren't 
 interested, or if he was a little cross, you didn't 
 tell half you knew. Isn't it so ? " 
 
 " He did use to rattle me a good deal," confessed 
 Danforth penitently. 
 
 " I know it ; and, as soon as you were rattled, 
 you lost your head and didn't feel sure that you 
 knew anything, and that made you shut your 
 mouth tighter than ever, and frown as you did at 
 me, a few minutes ago. You see T know all about 
 it, just as if I'd been there." And Margaret 
 smiled mischievously. 
 
 " I suppose I did, but I don't get rattled with 
 you ; do I ? " Danforth asked meekly. 
 
 " No ; that's just it, and yet I don't give you 
 half so easy lessons as Mr. Dufferin did. The first
 
 IN THE FIRELIGHT. 167 
 
 week or two, you weren't quite so ready to tell 
 what you knew; but, since then, you've done 
 splendidly. And now I want to know what's 
 going to happen when you go into college. There 
 you'll be under all sorts of men, some of them 
 pleasant and kindly, some very stern ; but you 
 must do good work under each one of them." 
 
 " Why can't I keep on with you ? " demanded 
 Danforth. " I'd learn as much, and more too." 
 
 " I'm not so sure of that," she answered ; "and 
 besides, you need just the training that college 
 life will give you. 'Twill be good for you to be 
 thrown among other boys ; it's like shaking glass 
 beads together, to break off the rough edges. 
 You'll get some hard knocks, Dan," she went on 
 half-pityingly, as she pictured the sensitive boy 
 launched into the rough-and-tumble existence in 
 which the average freshman delights ; " but it 
 won't hurt you in the end, if you make up your 
 mind to hold your own and come out of it all, a 
 man. No matter what the boys say, no matter 
 whether your professors like you or not, I know 
 I am right when I say that you can go through 
 college with a good standing, and be graduated 
 with honor." 
 
 "But who wants to be a dig, all his days?"
 
 168 MARGARET DAVIS, TUTOR. 
 
 inquired Jack, who had come into the room just 
 in time for her last words. 
 
 " You and Dan both, I hope," answered Marga- 
 ret promptly. " I've no patience with a boy who 
 hasn't the dig in him. 'Tisn't the bright fellows, 
 it's the ones who can work that make the men of 
 whom our colleges are proud to say, ' He was one 
 of our boys.' But because a boy digs, he needn't 
 give up all the fun of college life ; that would 
 make him as uninteresting as the valley of dry 
 bones. Some of the finest lessons of college are 
 learned outside of the class-room, as all of us who 
 have been there know." 
 
 " What's the use of college, anyhow ? " asked 
 Dan forth. 
 
 "What are you going to college for?" she 
 responded, meeting question with question. 
 
 " Fun," answered Jack laconically ; " and be- 
 cause the other fellows all do." 
 
 " Such a noble ambition ! " And Margaret 
 laughed, in spite of herself. Then she returned 
 again to her serious manner, as she went on, 
 " There's a great deal of fun in college life, Jack ; 
 some of it is funny and some of it isn't, as we 
 know who live close to a great university. I 
 should hate to have any boy friend of mine go
 
 IN THE FIRELIGHT. 169 
 
 through college and miss all the fun ; but before 
 he goes, he ought to make up his mind, once for 
 all, where his fun should lie. Because a young 
 man is a student, in these days, he seems to feel 
 privileged to be a young ruffian, and to get him- 
 self into all sorts of scrapes which he would scorn, 
 if he were living at home. Have all the fun you 
 want and can get, while you are in college, pro- 
 vided you steadfastly turn your backs on every- 
 thing that is dishonorable and low and, above all 
 else, everything that is unclean in thought or act. 
 You'll go into college as boys, to come out as men. 
 Beyond and above your class-work comes the ques- 
 tion of your real lives ; and I want my boys to 
 make such a record that the best and truest 
 women may always be glad to welcome them into 
 their homes." 
 
 Danforth's face had grown very thoughtful 
 while she was speaking, and even Jack . looked 
 serious for a moment. Then he gave Margaret a 
 whimsical, sidelong glance, as he inquired 
 meekly, 
 
 " Digs and prigs, Miss Davis ; what else ? " 
 " I like prigs almost as well as you do, Jack," 
 she answered. " If there's anything despicable in 
 this world, it's a saint who is too inefficient to be
 
 170 MARGARET DAVIS, TUTOR. 
 
 anything else. I'd rather have a good vigorous 
 sinner like you, for there's more chance of making 
 something of him, in time. A prig isn't a boy 
 who prefers honorable fun to low jokes ; but one 
 that's too indolent and finicky to appreciate any 
 fun at all. But, about the dig, if you're going in 
 for any education at all, you want to do it well. 
 You boys can both take a good stand, if you'll 
 work for it ; and if you work, heart and soul, 
 while you do work, you'll have ever so much time 
 left for fun, outside. And it's in the outside life, 
 as I say, that you may get the greatest good of all ; 
 for the square pegs of boys who go into college, 
 have to get their corners rubbed off until they can 
 fit into the round holes of the life beyond. The 
 most glorious lesson of all, better than Greek or 
 Latin, better than ' all the 'ologies of the colleges,' 
 is to know and trust our brother men, and be kind 
 in our judgments of them all." 
 
 She had spoken more earnestly than she real- 
 ized, and as she paused, a hush fell on the room. 
 Both the boys were staring fixedly at the fire, and, 
 for some moments, neither of them moved. Jack 
 was the first to recover himself. 
 
 " Yes, 'um," he said pensively. " That's a beau- 
 tiful sermon, 'most as good as Mr. Huntington's
 
 IN THE FIRELIGHT. 171 
 
 that Laddie stole ; but isn't it almost time for the 
 benediction ? " 
 
 " Impertinent boy ! " And Margaret pulled the 
 brown ear nearest her. "No," she added suddenly ; 
 " it isn't time yet. I've something more to say." 
 
 " Let her go, then, and get it over," said Jack, 
 clasping his hands in mock resignation. 
 
 " This last was a general sermon, and fits every 
 day," said Margaret laughing. " Now I am going 
 to add another, just for to-day, and say that you 
 were a pair of lazy boys this morning. You knew 
 it then, and I have a general idea that you are 
 ashamed of it now." 
 
 "I 'spects we are," responded Jack cheerfully. 
 " I didn't mean to be a beast, now honestly, Miss 
 Davis ; but I didn't feel like working, one little bit." 
 
 "Evidently not," said Margaret; "but every 
 day you are lazy now is doing just as much harm 
 to the fine work you are going to do later. And 
 when there comes a day like this, it makes me feel 
 as if all my time were thrown away, and somebody 
 else could do better by my boys than I am doing." 
 
 " Not much," returned Jack heartily, as he rose 
 and stood on the hearth-rug, facing her. " Nobody 
 else could be half so jolly, and I only wish you 
 were related to us, somehow, so you would have 
 to stay here always."
 
 CHAPTER IX. 
 
 DANFORTH. 
 
 " SAY, Dan, what are yon doing ? " asked Jack, 
 coming suddenly into the room which the two 
 boys occupied. 
 
 It was the day before Christmas, and Grandma 
 Atherton was busy with the preparations for the 
 next day's festivities, while Bobbie and Pen were 
 decorating the drawing-room, hall and dining-room 
 with sprays of holly and mistletoe. Outside the 
 house, the rain was pouring heavily down from 
 the dull, leaden sky, and the bare trees tossed and 
 writhed in the wind. Danforth cared little for the 
 weather, however, for he was all-absorbed in a new 
 book ; and Jack had come in, to find him lying face 
 down across his bed, with his open book as near 
 to the window as possible, his chin in his hands 
 and his heels in the air, a picture of perfect content- 
 ment. At Jack's question, he only gave a grunt 
 of recognition, and then returned to his reading. 
 
 " I say, wake up there ! " remonstrated Jack. 
 172
 
 DANFO11TH. 173 
 
 " What business have you to be up here, loafing 
 and spoiling your eyes in that dark corner, when 
 we've been wanting you more than you were 
 worth?" 
 
 " What did you want ? " inquired Dan forth, re- 
 luctantly shutting his book and rolling over to face 
 Jack, with a prodigious yawn. 
 
 "Grandma wanted some more lemons, and I 
 had to wade over to Riverton for them. If you'd 
 only been round, you could have gone, instead," 
 responded Jack, with calm audacity. 
 
 " Needn't think I'm going to do all the errands," 
 objected Danforth. " I'd been out, more than half 
 the morning, and 'twas your turn." 
 
 " Turns don't count, this weather," said Jack, 
 going to the window and tapping thoughtfully on 
 the pane, as he looked out at the wind-swept land- 
 scape. " Tell you what, Dan, it's a juicy day. 
 I was 'most blown off the bridge, coining home." 
 
 "'Tis pretty bad, worse than I thought," said 
 Danforth, as he tumbled himself off the bed, and 
 crossed the room to his brother's side. " Say," he 
 added suddenly ; " don't you wish Miss Davis 
 would come back ? " 
 
 " Come back ? Why, she hasn't been gone but 
 two days," said Jack.
 
 174 MARGARET DAVIS, TUTOR. 
 
 " Can't help it ; it seems a week, and there isn't 
 anything to do, when she's out of the way." 
 
 " She is good fun, that's a fact," admitted Jack ; 
 " and she never acts too busy to do what we want. 
 I don't see how we ever managed to get on, with- 
 out having her round. Think of the times we 
 used to have with Duffy ! " 
 
 " You came out of that O. K. I was the one 
 that had the worst of it," said Danforth. "It's 
 over now; there's one comfort. But I wish 'twere 
 
 time for Miss Davis to come back again." 
 
 
 
 " She'll be here, next week," remarked Jack 
 consolingly. " Besides, if you go to New York, 
 that'll take some of the time." 
 
 "Are we going?" Danforth looked up in 
 surprise. 
 
 " You are, I'm not in it ; no such luck for me," 
 said Jack enviously. " But I supposed you knew 
 it. I heard Uncle Jerry telling grandma that he 
 was going to take you down, next week, to see 
 Dr. Heinrich again. Maybe, if you tease hard 
 enough, you can get him to plan to come back on 
 the train with Miss Davis." 
 
 " Great head ! " said Danforth approvingly. 
 " That's a good scheme, Jack, and I'll see what I 
 can do. I hate going down, though, and I wish 
 I could get out of it."
 
 DANFOUTH. 175 
 
 "What for?" And Jack stared at his brother 
 in surprise. " I should think you'd have immense 
 fun. I wish Uncle Jerry would take me, instead. 
 But let's go down now, and help Bobbie and Pen. 
 They sent me up to call you, and I forgot it." 
 
 "What's the use?" inquired Danforth indo- 
 lently. " Girls are bores, anyhow. If we stay up 
 here, we can have a little peace ; but if we go 
 down there, they'll keep us running all over the 
 house for them, and I get so sick of their 
 gabble." 
 
 " Pen doesn't get sick of you, though," said Jack, 
 laughing. " When you're round, she doesn't have 
 half an eye for anybody else. It's ' Jack this ' and 
 ' Jack that ' ; but she doesn't lose sight of you, the 
 whole blessed time." 
 
 " Honestly ? " And Danforth looked up incred- 
 ulously. "I never noticed it. I didn't suppose 
 she liked me overmuch, since that time I shut her 
 white kitten's tail in the door crack. She gave 
 me fits then ; but really I wasn't to blame, for I 
 didn't see the little beast at all. How Pen did 
 rage, though ! I've never dared go near the house 
 since." 
 
 " You watch her and see," counselled Jack. " I 
 don't see how you haven't noticed it before."
 
 176 MARGARET DAVIS, TUTOR. 
 
 "All right, I will; but sh'e'd better let me 
 alone, if she knows what's good for herself," said 
 Danforth pugnaciously. " I don't want any more 
 girls round in the way ; Bob is all I can manage, 
 and she generally manages me." 
 
 In the meantime, down-stairs, Bobbie and Pen 
 were chattering busily over their bunches of red 
 and white berries. 
 
 " I think your grandma is just lovely, to give us 
 a Christmas party," Pen was saying. 
 
 "Isn't she? And I've the sweetest gown to 
 wear. It just came home to-day." 
 
 " What is it? " And Penelope suspended oper- 
 ations while she looked enviously up at Bobbie, 
 who was standing on a tall step-ladder, to hang a 
 branch of mistletoe from the old-fashioned chan- 
 delier. 
 
 " It's light pink, with great big puffed sleeves 
 and a perfectly e-normous sash. Miss Davis 
 helped me to plan it ; it's such a care to get a 
 new gown." And Bobbie sighed in what she 
 considered a very womanly fashion. " Jack says 
 it's fine," she continued, after a pause ; " but Dan 
 makes fun of it. He says I look like a balloon in 
 it; but that's just because he don't like pink. Blue 
 is his color."
 
 DANFORTH. 177 
 
 " Is it? I'm so glad, for my gown is blue." And 
 Penelope beamed at the thought. 
 
 "You needn't be too set-up," returned Bobbie 
 crushingly. " Yours is pale blue, and he wants 
 it dark, Yale blue, you know, the color Miss Davis 
 wears so much. Besides, he doesn't like girls, 
 anyway. Jack is a great deal more fun." 
 
 "He's more waked-up," assented Pen doubt- 
 fully; but Bobbie shifted her ground, with char- 
 acteristic suddenness. 
 
 " But Dan is the easiest to get along with, for 
 he doesn't get cross and tease, as much as Jack 
 does. Don't you ever tell I said it, Pen Stoddard ; 
 but really I do have the dearest pair of brothers 
 in the world," she added, in a quick outburst of 
 affection, for the approaching festival had made 
 her feel unusualty at peace with the world. 
 " Jack's the brightest ; but Dan is so sort of lovely 
 that he makes up for it. Did I ever tell you about 
 the day I left the cage door open, and let all the 
 white mice get away? " 
 
 " No ; when was that ? " asked Penelope, while 
 she tried to decide whether holly or mistletoe 
 looked better about the marble cupid. 
 
 " It was one day last fall, and I told the boys 
 I'd feed the mice, for they were both busy. Miss
 
 178 MARGARET DAVIS, TUTOR. 
 
 Davis called me, just then, and I forgot to shut 
 the door, and went off and left them. I felt dread- 
 fully about it, for the boys thought everything of 
 their mice. Jack found it out first, and he was 
 very mad ; he did scold me awfully." 
 
 Bobbie had dropped her berries, and sat down 
 on the top step of the ladder to tell her story, 
 while her bright little face grew sober and then 
 very gentle in her earnestness, as she went on, 
 
 " Well, I was up in my room, crying just as hard 
 as I could cry, when I heard somebody knock. I 
 wouldn't answer one single word, for Jack had 
 made me pretty mad, my own self, and I had 
 cried till my eyes were as red as a pair of toma- 
 toes, so I just kept still. Then the knob turned, 
 and the door opened softly ; but I wouldn't look 
 up nor speak till, all at once, I heard Dan say 
 ' Bobbie.' I thought he'd come to scold, too ; but 
 he didn't, a bit. He sat down and pulled me over 
 on to his knee, and kissed me and stroked my hair. 
 His eyes looked blue as could be, and he laughed 
 a little ; but he didn't say anything at all, only 
 just 'Poor little Bob! Don't mind so much.' 
 That's the kind of a brother that Dan is." And 
 Bobbie nodded emphatically, as she sat looking 
 down at Pen.
 
 DANFORTH. 179 
 
 " I think he's lovely, truly ; only I'm kind of 
 afraid of him," said Penelope, who had listened 
 intently to Bobbie's story. " He's always so quiet 
 and so proper that I expect to shock him." 
 
 "Dan proper?" And Bobbie laughed at the 
 idea. "And you needn't think, because he's 
 quiet, that he hasn't a will of his own, Pen. 
 When Danforth Spaulding really makes up his 
 mind to do anything, you might as well try to 
 to climb out of the big pot-hole down by the 
 river, as to stop him. But here they come now. 
 We ought to have been at work, instead of sitting 
 here talking, all this time, for it's getting dark 
 already. Don't you ever tell what I've been 
 saying." And scrambling to her feet, Bobbie 
 caught up her berries and resumed her work, 
 just as Jack came into the room. 
 
 The next evening found the old house brightly 
 lighted, and gay with music and the voices of 
 young people ; for Grandma Atherton had taken 
 advantage of the Christmas festival, to give 
 a little party for her grandchildren and their 
 friends. 
 
 " If only Miss Davis were here, 'twould all bu 
 fine," Jack had said for the third time, while he 
 was restlessly wandering about the rooms, waiting
 
 180 MARGARET DAVIS, TUTOR. 
 
 for the guests to arrive. " It's good weather, and 
 grandma has a jolly spread ; but somehow we need 
 her to set us all going." 
 
 "Just wait an hour," said Bobbie, waltzing 
 down the hall in her excitement. "When they 
 begin to come, you won't want Miss Davis or any- 
 body else, except just us. Now really, Jacky," 
 and she paused, with her head on one side and her 
 face turned coaxingly up to her brother; "how do 
 you like my gown? Did you ever see one much 
 prettier?" 
 
 "N-no; I don't know as I did," admitted Jack, 
 smiling down at his sister with manifest pride. 
 " There's a good deal of flummery to it, but it 
 suits you, somehow. Where's Dan?" 
 
 "He's still prinking. Did yau ever see such an 
 old Betty?" asked Bobbie, laughing. "He just 
 called me to come in and tell him what tie to 
 wear. He had about a dozen spread out in a row, 
 and I believe he'd been trying them all on. He is 
 the funniest boy I ever did see. Oh dear, I do 
 wish somebody would come; I can't wait much 
 longer, before I see the tree. I know one thing 
 you're going to have, though," she added tri- 
 umphantly. 
 
 " What is it, a printing press ? " asked Jack 
 eagerly.
 
 DANFOKTH. 181 
 
 "That's telling. It's something you'll like. 
 But there goes the bell, at last; I do hope it's 
 Pen." And Bobbie darted to the door to greet 
 her friend and drag her away upstairs, for a long, 
 whispered conference. 
 
 It was a most successful evening, and every- 
 body said so. After the first little stiffness had 
 worn away, and the latest comers had made their 
 appearance, the good time began. Mrs. Stoddard 
 had come with her daughter, to help Grandma 
 Atherton in entertaining the young people; and 
 she entered into the frolic as heartily as Penelope 
 herself, now starting a new game and bringing 
 them all into it, now sitting down at the piano to 
 play a simple quadrille or a waltz, while the chil- 
 dren danced. Bobbie, with her eyes shining like 
 stars and her cheeks as pink as her gown, was in 
 her element, and flew about the room, infecting 
 them all with her spirits. Even Danforth, after 
 his sister had routed him out of various obscure 
 corners, rose to meet the emergency, and played 
 the host with a quiet grace which won as much 
 enthusiasm from the girls, as did Jack's more rol- 
 licking fun; and Bobbie could not keep from giv- 
 ing him a nod of approbation, as she whispered to 
 Jack, in the midst of ladies' chain,
 
 182 MARGARET DAVIS, TUTOR. 
 
 "Do see Dan! Isn't he too dear, to-night?" 
 
 And Jack answered, as he glanced across the 
 room to where his brother stood talking with 
 Penelope, in the pause of the figure, 
 
 "Dan's always a trump, when he forgets and 
 lets himself go; but seems to me Pen looks 
 unusually fine. How she does smile on Dan, 
 though ! " 
 
 The dance ended and that duty done, Danforth 
 abruptly turned his back upon the pretty face and 
 dainty gown of his young partner, and strolled 
 away into the library, leaving Penelope standing 
 alone in the middle of the floor. She looked after 
 him with an ill-concealed disappointment, for at 
 heart she greatly admired Bobbie's quiet brother, 
 and was secretly much elated by his having asked 
 her to dance. She had been doing her best to talk 
 to him and to make him talk, so it was doubly 
 mortifying to be left without a word. Fortunately 
 she could not follow Danforth into the library, 
 and hear him say, as he threw himself down into a 
 chair beside Uncle Jerry, 
 
 " Wish I could stay here with you ! It's an 
 awful racket in there, with so many girls. They've 
 all put on their best clothes; and they don't do 
 anything but shake out their ruffles, or whatever
 
 DANFORTH. 183 
 
 you call 'em, and look cornerwise into the glass, 
 whenever they get in range." 
 
 Uncle Jerry laughed, as he looked up from his 
 paper. 
 
 "Which of you took longer to dress, to-night, 
 Dan," he asked; "you or Bobbie? " 
 
 Danforth was spared the necessity of making 
 any reply, for Jack appeared on the threshold, at 
 that moment, and descended upon his brother like 
 an accusing spirit. 
 
 " I say, Dan Spaulding, what'll you take for 
 your manners? Ask a girl to dance, and then 
 walk off and leave her, the minute you're through ! 
 You ought to be ashamed of yourself." 
 
 "Great Scott! I forgot her." And Danforth 
 looked up with a startled light in his blue eyes. 
 "I didn't mean to, anyhow; but I was so glad 
 that rigmarole was over, that I bolted as soon as I 
 could. No matter; it's nobody but Pen, and she 
 ought to know I don't like girls and only asked 
 her because I had to." 
 
 " You're a great lad ! " And Jack surveyed his 
 brother with unmixed scorn. "Pen never'd speak 
 to you again, if she did what you deserve." 
 
 "I wish she wouldn't," murmured the culprit 
 feebly.
 
 184 MARGARET DAVIS, TUTOR. 
 
 "You don't wish any such thing," returned 
 Jack. " Now you just come back into the parlor 
 and behave yourself. I'm going to take Pen out 
 to supper ; but you must ask her to dance again, 
 or else philopene with her, or something, to show 
 you want to make up." 
 
 " Just my luck ! " sighed Danforth, as his brother 
 vanished once more. " Bob said I must dance with 
 Pen, and I did it ; but I supposed that was all that 
 was necessary. Bother the girls, anyway ! " And 
 he disconsolately followed Jack, while Uncle Jerry 
 hid his amusement in his paper. 
 
 " Dan will never be a society man," he thought 
 to himself. " Perhaps it is just as well, for Jack 
 has enough of it for both the boys. Still, it may 
 come in time." 
 
 Prophetic Uncle Jerry! 
 
 Two hours later, the children were gathered in 
 the drawing-room for one last dance. The simple 
 supper was over, and the tree had been shown, 
 then admired, then pillaged. Countless pretty 
 trifles were scattered about the room, for each 
 young guest had been generously remembered ; 
 while the more substantial gifts of the Spauldings 
 lay on the library table, to be opened when the 
 others had gone. Uncle Jerry, in the dress of
 
 DANFORTH. 185 
 
 Santa Glaus, stood in the doorway, looking on at 
 the lively picture ; then, answering a sudden call 
 from his mother, he crossed the hall to the dining- 
 room, where Grandma Atherton and Mrs. Stod- 
 dard were packing two little baskets of goodies 
 and gifts, for the two guests who had been unable 
 to come to the party. 
 
 Meanwhile, the young people, eager to have the 
 music start up, and excited with their long even- 
 ing of pleasure, were dancing up and down the 
 great room, their bright faces and pretty gowns 
 making a brilliant contrast to the quaint, old 
 furnishings of the place. All at once, Jack whis- 
 tled a few strains of a waltz, and Bobbie, seizing 
 Penelope, whirled her away across the floor. A 
 moment later, there came a crash, followed by a 
 cry of fear which quickly changed into a shriek of 
 pain. The two girls, heedless of where they were 
 going, had collided with a small table at the far- 
 ther side of the room, upon which stood a large 
 banquet-lamp on its tall pedestal. It swayed to 
 and fro for an instant, but not long enough to allow 
 the frightened children to catch it, or to spring 
 away ; then it fell on its side, throwing the reservoir 
 from its place and over upon Penelope. The next 
 moment, she was enveloped in a blaze of the burn- 
 ing oil.
 
 186 MARGARET DAVIS, TUTOR. 
 
 What happened after that, Penelope never 
 knew. She had a vague memory that the room 
 rang with cries of fear and calls for help ; that her 
 friends were running wildly about her, and then 
 that some one pushed her roughly to the floor, and 
 held her there under a pile of heavy clothing, 
 while she writhed with pain and terror. That 
 was all she could remember, and that came back 
 to her mind, bit by bit, when she waked to find 
 herself in Bobbie's bed. Her head felt tired and 
 confused, and she was surprised to find her hands 
 and neck bandaged and smarting painfully, while 
 across a chair by the bed lay the ruins of what 
 had been her pretty blue gown. Then it all came 
 back to her, and she cried out again, as she felt 
 the wild terror of those few seconds which had 
 seemed like years. At the sound, her mother 
 came forward to the bed. 
 
 " What is it, dear ? " she asked gently. 
 
 " I don't know." And Penelope began to cry, 
 in weak, hysterical pity for herself. " What hap- 
 pened ? Was I burned to death ? " she asked, as 
 soon as she could speak again. 
 
 Her mother did not even smile at the odd ques- 
 tion ; she shuddered a little, as she bent over her 
 daughter.
 
 DANFORTH. 187 
 
 "No, dear; but you might have been, if it 
 hadn't been for Danforth." 
 
 " Danforth ! " And Pen looked wonderingly up 
 into the loving eyes above her. 
 
 " Yes ; the others were too much frightened to 
 help you ; but he ran out into the hall, and caught 
 an armful of the boys' coats, and held them over 
 you on the floor. There was no one else near 
 enough to do anything; and if he hadn't been 
 quick to think and to act, " Mrs. Stoddard 
 paused, and a hot tear splashed down on Pen's 
 cheek. 
 
 " Did Dan do all that for me ? " said Penelope, 
 looking solemnly up at her mother. 
 
 " He not only did it, but he did it at the risk of 
 his life, almost." 
 
 "And was he burned?" Pen asked the ques- 
 tion with an odd little catch in her breath. 
 
 " Only a little, on one hand and his cheek. But 
 now you must try to go to sleep, dear. It is 
 almost midnight, and I want you to get some resjt, 
 so you can be able to be taken home to-morrow." 
 
 " But I don't feel as if I could ever sleep again," 
 said Pen restlessly. " As soon as I shut my eyes, 
 I keep seeing the blaze all around me. Oh, 
 Mamma Stoddard, wasn't Dan splendid ? I never
 
 188 MARGARET DAVIS, TUTOR. 
 
 supposed he'd do such a thing for me. You're 
 sure he wasn't burned much ? " 
 
 Late the next afternoon, Dan forth sat by the 
 library fire, nursing his burned hand and poring 
 over the pamphlets which had come with his new 
 camera, the day before. His white face, with a 
 small burn on his left cheek, and his bandaged 
 hand were the only signs of his experience of the 
 preceding night; and beyond a little annoyance 
 at the inconvenience it was costing him, and a 
 curiously unsteady feeling in his knees, Danforth 
 thought little about the matter, though every one 
 else in the house, the night before, had gone away 
 with a new respect and admiration for quiet Dan. 
 Jack and Bobbie, in particular, had prostrated 
 themselves before their brother, who had received 
 with an ungrateful disgust their attempts to lionize 
 him ; and he had blushed and stammered and 
 wriggled while Mrs. Stoddard was trying to thank 
 him, until, in mercy to him, she had left her 
 gratitude quite unspoken. 
 
 Now, however, she came into the room and 
 roused him from his blissful study of lenses and 
 plates, by saying, 
 
 " Danforth, the carriage will be at the door in 
 a few minutes now, and Pen has asked to
 
 DANFORTH. 189 
 
 see you, before she goes. Will you come up- 
 stairs?" 
 
 Feeling strangely like a culprit, Danforth rose 
 and followed Mrs. Stoddard out of the room. He 
 had been dreading some such summons, and he 
 felt no wish to see Pen until they could both 
 ignore the past. Boy as he was, he had realized 
 that they stood together in great danger, the 
 evening before ; but, boy-like, he had no idea 
 what to say about it, and regarded any words as 
 being quite superfluous. Moreover, his hand 
 smarted, and he felt tired and cross after the 
 excitement. In fact, the hero had returned to 
 the normal boy again, and the normal boy was a 
 little out of temper and extremely ill at ease. 
 
 Penelope was lying on the sofa, listening for his 
 step. Her face brightened as Danforth came into 
 the room, although he looked rather forbidding, as 
 he reluctantly advanced to her side. 
 
 "I don't know how to thank you, Dan," she 
 began slowly. 
 
 " What's the use of trying ? " responded Dan- 
 forth bluntly, while he stood frowning down at 
 her. 
 
 " But you kept me from being burned to death," 
 she said, "everybody says so, and the last I re-
 
 MARGARET DAVIS, TUTOR. 
 
 member is your holding me down, under the coats. 
 How could you be so brave ? " and her eyes filled 
 with tears. 
 
 But Danforth was dumb. He found no words 
 to say, just then, for a sudden memory of the 
 scene rushed back to him, as he stood looking 
 down at the girl before him. It seemed to him 
 that he had never before known how pretty she 
 was, how yellow her hair and how pink her 
 cheeks ; and only last night, she had almost 
 
 All at once, Penelope and the sofa grew misty 
 before his eyes, and, to his intense mortification, 
 he felt two great tears rolling down his cheek. 
 
 "Don't be cross about it, Dan," Penelope was 
 begging him. " I only want to tell you how good 
 you were. You see, if it hadn't been for you, I 
 should have been dead to-day." 
 
 "Bother take it all, Pen! What's the use of 
 making such a fuss about it? I didn't do anything 
 more for you than I had to, and I'd have done it 
 for anybody else in the same scrape, so you needn't 
 feel so everlastingly grateful to me." And Dan's 
 face turned scarlet, as he pulled off his glasses 
 and rubbed away the offending mist upon them. 
 
 " I know that, Dan ; but 'twas for me, and I do 
 thank you," persisted Pen seriously. " But if you
 
 DANFOKTH. 191 
 
 won't let me talk about that, can't we say we'll be 
 good friends after this, and shake hands on it ? " 
 And she held up her small hand, enveloped in its 
 wrappings of old linen. 
 
 Danforth took it awkwardly, and stood looking 
 as if he really did not know what to do with it. 
 Then, of a sudden, his face changed, and he said 
 huskily, 
 
 " We are friends, Pen, and we'll stand by each 
 other. I'm sorry I shut your cat in the door, and 
 I hope you'll be all right, in a day or two." 
 
 He felt Pen's fingers give his hand an answering 
 squeeze ; then he escaped from the room, with the 
 uncomfortable conviction that he had been ex- 
 tremely ungracious.
 
 CHAPTER X. 
 
 HIDE AND SEEK. 
 
 A FEW days later Margaret's vacation came to 
 an end, and early one winter afternoon, she and 
 Molly were pacing up and down the long platform 
 of the station, talking busily while they waited 
 for the train which was to carry Margaret back to 
 her pupils once more. It was a clear, cold winter 
 day, and the yellow sunshine gleamed over the 
 waves of the harbor and the scattered schooners 
 lying at anchor there, and beautified even the old 
 wharf with its border of shabby buildings, and the 
 great gap in the roof of the station where the 
 tower had been eaten away by a recent fire. Far 
 down the bay, a Turkish man-of-war showed its 
 dark outline above the dazzling surface of the 
 water; and, nearer the shore, two saucy little 
 oyster-boats were puffing to and fro, with the air 
 of having the concerns of a nation hanging upon 
 every revolution of their wheels. Then there 
 came the sound of a distant whistle, followed 
 
 192
 
 HIDE AND SEEK. 193 
 
 by another close at hand, and, a moment later, 
 the train rolled up beside the platform, shutting 
 out the whole bright picture with the dingy out- 
 line of its sides. 
 
 Margaret glanced up indifferently, while she 
 waited for the crowd to move away, then her 
 whole face brightened, as she caught sight of a 
 boyish figure capering up and down on the plat- 
 form of one of the cars, and waving his hat to 
 attract her attention. 
 
 " Dan ! Where did you come from ? " she ex- 
 claimed, forsaking Molly to hurry forward to greet 
 her pupil. 
 
 " New York, of course ; where'd you s'pose ? 
 Uncle Jerry and I came down yesterday, and I 
 knew we'd find you here," responded the boy 
 gleefully, as he seized her bag and umbrella, and 
 handed them to the sable porter. " Uncle Jerry 
 took a place for you at New York, so as to make 
 sure of it." 
 
 Margaret turned back to introduce the boy to 
 Molly, and to speak one last word to her sister ; 
 then she followed Danforth into the car where 
 Gerald was waiting for them. 
 
 " Tell you, this is fine," said Danforth content- 
 edly, as Margaret took off her jacket, and settled
 
 194 MARGARET DAVIS, TUTOR. 
 
 herself in her seat. " I was so afraid I'd miss you, 
 somehow or other." 
 
 " You should have come up yesterday and spent 
 the night here," said Margaret, turning to wave 
 her hand to Molly who stood watching them as 
 the train slowly moved away. " But tell me, how 
 is everybody at home ? " 
 
 With the undisguised interest which every one, 
 in travelling, feels privileged to manifest in his 
 neighbor, the people about them had smiled at the 
 boy's eager greeting of this pretty young woman. 
 Now, from behind the safe screen of novel or news- 
 paper, they listened with amusement to the quick 
 chatter which followed, while they speculated 
 vainly as to the relationship existing between 
 the members of the little party. Uncle Jerry 
 sat silent, for the most part, watching Margaret's 
 bright face as she replied to Danforth's questions, 
 and any one looking closely at him, might have 
 seen a little look of weariness or sadness in his 
 pleasant, kindly eyes. But Margaret's face was 
 turned a little away from him, and Danforth was 
 too much interested in her, to pay much attention 
 to his uncle who could study Margaret unob- 
 served. How sweet and bright she was, he 
 thought. No wonder that she had completely
 
 HIDE AND SEEK. 195 
 
 won his quiet nephew ; and Uncle Jerry smiled 
 a little to himself, as he listened to Danforth's 
 eager flow of words. Then he grew grave again, 
 and after a few minutes he excused himself and 
 went away out of the car. 
 
 " But what sent you down to New York ? " 
 asked Margaret, after she had replied in detail to 
 Danforth's manifold questions. 
 
 " Uncle Jerry wanted me to see Dr. Heinrich 
 again. We had a fine time, though, for we went 
 to the theatre last night, and went pretty much 
 all round the city this morning. Don't you think 
 the ' L ' is immense, Miss Davis ? It's such fun 
 to ride along, and peek in at everybody's up-stairs 
 windows." 
 
 Unknown to herself, Margaret's face grew sud- 
 denly grave, as she recalled her last ride down 
 through Third Avenue and the Bowery, on one 
 of those warm, breathless days of late summer 
 when the very plants in the windows seemed to 
 be gasping for air. The crowded, noisy, littered 
 rooms, as she flew past them, had made her long 
 to escape from that vast Bedlam into her own 
 clean, cool little home city again. The glimpses 
 of life she had seen that day, the roar of the 
 streets and the suggestive fumes of chloride of
 
 196 MARGARET DAVIS, TUTOR. 
 
 lime had scarcely been according to her idea of 
 fun. She had wondered whether one could be 
 happy to live anywhere within the limits of a 
 city known to have such horrors inside it. And 
 yet, she did not fully believe that Rivington 
 Street offered the one open door, through which 
 all these wretched, swarming multitudes were to 
 pass on into ways of pleasantness and peace. 
 
 Something of this was in her mind now, as she 
 sat looking at the quiet, snow-covered country 
 across which they were rushing. She was 
 roused by Danforth's asking, 
 
 " What is it, Miss Davis ? You look as if some- 
 thing didn't suit." 
 
 She turned back to him, with the quick smile 
 which he knew so well. 
 
 "It doesn't, Dan. I was deep in social prob- 
 lems, ever so far from here. But I want to forget 
 all that, and hear more about your Christmas 
 vacation. What have you been doing to your- 
 self?" she added, as, for the first time, she caught 
 sight of his bandaged wrist and the long red scar 
 on the back of his hand, from which he had just 
 pulled his glove. 
 
 " I burned me a little, the other night. It's most 
 well now, though," said Danforth evasively.
 
 HIDE AND SEEK. 197 
 
 Margaret stretched out her hand and drew his 
 toward her. 
 
 " What a terrible burn ! " she said pityingly. 
 " How did you do it, Dan ? " 
 
 To her surprise, the boy blushed crimson and 
 dropped his eyes, as he answered, 
 
 " We tipped over that tall lamp in the drawing- 
 room, and I was helping put it out. 'Tisn't much 
 now. My hand is almost well, but my wrist is 
 pretty bad. Want to see ? " 
 
 " Oh, don't," interposed Margaret. " It makes 
 me sick to think of it, even, for you must have 
 suffered so much. Why didn't you tell me ? " 
 
 " Pen was burned more than I was," said Dan- 
 forth, with a second blush. " She's been ill, ever 
 since then ; but they say she's almost well again 
 now, and she isn't going to be scarred any, that's 
 one good thing." 
 
 " Tell me all about it, Dan," Margaret urged. 
 " What was it? " 
 
 " Truly, there isn't much to tell," he answered, 
 with some confusion. " The lamp tipped over, 
 and Pen's gown caught fire. We were both 
 burned some; that's all." 
 
 At a loss to explain his unwillingness to speak 
 of the affair, Margaret could only conclude that
 
 198 MARGARET DAVIS, TUTOR. 
 
 Danforth was in some way to blame for the acci- 
 dent. Accordingly, she changed the subject and, 
 for the next hour, they talked of other matters. 
 Then Uncle Jerry came back to them again. 
 
 " I didn't mean to be away from you so long," 
 he said apologetically, as he dropped into his seat; 
 "but I found a friend in one of the cars back here, 
 Thornton, the man who's running our electric 
 line. You may have heard me speak of him. He 
 came up from Hartford to Springfield, and I was 
 talking with him and didn't notice how the time 
 went." 
 
 So Hugh had been on the same train with her, 
 and she had never suspected it. Margaret leaned 
 back in her chair and stared hard at the rugged 
 outline of Mount Tom, under whose shadow they 
 were passing. She wondered if Gerald had men- 
 tioned her name, and Hugh had not taken the 
 trouble to say he had known her. Would this 
 wearisome game of hide and seek never come to 
 an end? It was bad enough to have him go 
 away and leave her so suddenly ; it was even worse 
 to have him within reach, where she was in con- 
 stant expectation of meeting him again, without 
 knowing whether her anticipations were those of 
 hope or fear. She was just beginning to breathe
 
 HIDE AND SEEK. 199 
 
 quietly again, when her attention was cauglit by 
 Gerald's next words. 
 
 "What do you think of our young hero?" he 
 asked, with a glance at Danforth, who had walked 
 to the door of the car and stood there, looking out. 
 
 " What do you mean? " she answered. 
 
 " Hasn't Dan told you ? I thought you'd have 
 noticed his burn." 
 
 "He hasn't told me anything, except that the 
 lamp was upset, and he and Pen burned." 
 
 "That's a small part of the story," said his 
 uncle, bending forward and speaking quickly, as 
 Danforth started to come back to them. " The 
 children were alone in the room, and they lost 
 their heads completely, all but Dan. Penelope 
 would surely have been burned to death, if he 
 hadn't buried her under a pile of overcoats, and 
 held her there by main strength until the fire was 
 smothered. 'Twas a wonder that he wasn't more 
 seriously burned, himself. But what do you 
 think of our boy now, Miss Davis ? " 
 
 A smile was Margaret's only answer, for Dan- 
 forth was within hearing again; but that smile, so 
 happy and tender with her pride in her boy, said 
 more to Uncle Jerry than eloquent words could 
 have done. Then she turned to Dan.
 
 200 MARGARET DAVIS, TUTOR. 
 
 "Why didn't you tell me, my boy?" she said 
 impulsively. "You ought to have known how 
 proud of you I should be." 
 
 " I didn't s'pose you'd care," he answered, in a 
 low voice, while he picked nervously at a loose 
 thread in the edge of his overcoat. 
 
 " That's not quite fair to me, Dan," she replied 
 gently. " Did you really believe that ? " 
 
 " No ; I didn't," said Danforth honestly, as he 
 raised his eyes to her face. " I knew you'd like 
 me to do it; but what was the use of making such 
 a time about it? The others have harped on it 
 till they have made me tired; and 'twas no great 
 affair anyhow. But I'm awfully hungry." 
 
 It seemed very pleasant to Margaret to settle 
 back into her peaceful routine, the next morning. 
 Her vacation had been a most enjoyable one ; but 
 the time had been almost too fully occupied, for 
 she was a favorite in her own particular circle of 
 friends, and every moment that she could spare 
 from her mother, was claimed for the endless suc- 
 cession of teas and dinner-dances, in which her 
 sisters delighted. Two weeks of this rushing ex- 
 istence had made her glad to go back to the quiet, 
 restful atmosphere of the Atherton house again; 
 though it was almost with a feeling of shame that
 
 HIDE AND SEEK. 201 
 
 she admitted to herself how much more interest- 
 ing she found the bright chatter of Bobbie and the 
 boys, and the gentle, old-time flavor of Grandma 
 Atherton's conversation, than the society nothings 
 of the acquaintances she had been meeting so con- 
 stantly. She did not realize that it all came from 
 having a personal, practical interest in life, from 
 her earnest wish to make the most and the best of 
 these young people in her care. Instead of seeing 
 how her life was daily broadening and deepening 
 from her contact with her pupils, and her study of 
 their characters and needs, she only told herself, 
 again and again, that she was growing narrow 
 and dull. The strong instinct of motherhood, 
 which is latent in every true woman until circum- 
 stances develop it, had sprung into active life, in 
 the presence of these motherless children ; and, all 
 unconsciously, Margaret was giving them her best 
 and truest self. 
 
 Life was at its smoothest, for the next two or 
 three weeks. Their short separation had taught 
 the children how much they had grown to depend 
 upon their tutor, so they welcomed her back with 
 enthusiasm, and plunged into their lessons with a 
 will. Bobbie was wrestling with the Greek alpha- 
 bet, now, and groaning over it, as every normal
 
 202 MARGARET DAVIS, TUTOR. 
 
 child has groaned before her ; while the boys were 
 making havoc of the finest lines of much-abused, 
 long-suffering Virgil, or elaborately tattooing them- 
 selves with their pencil-points, as they pondered 
 upon the problems of reversion of series, for pre- 
 liminary examinations were looming up in the 
 near future, and college, the first step to full-grown 
 manhood, was but a year and a half away. 
 
 The days passed pleasantly and all too quickly, 
 to Margaret's mind. She enjoyed the sterner 
 winter of northern New England, the bright, brac- 
 ing days when she could go out for long walks and 
 drives, the furious storms which swept down the 
 valley, piling the snow high over the fences and 
 heaping great drifts in every sheltered corner, 
 while the wind roared about the old house and 
 made the warm place by the fireside doubly attrac- 
 tive, after going out with the boys to battle with 
 the storm. It seemed to her that, until they had 
 spent the long, cosy evenings together, she had 
 never really known the family. Grandma Ather- 
 ton was always the same sweet, motherly little 
 woman ; but over the blazing hickory logs even 
 Grandpa Atherton thawed out and told stories of 
 the days of his far-off boyhood ; while, viewed in 
 the flickering light of the fire, Bobbie became more
 
 HIDE AND SEEK. 203 
 
 gentle and womanly, more considerate of her 
 grandparents and her brothers. Ever since Christ- 
 mas, she had treated Danforth with a new defer- 
 ence quite unlike the little air of superiority which 
 she had formerly assumed toward him ; and during 
 the first few days after his burn, she had hovered 
 over him with the quick pity of girlhood for any 
 wounded creature, to the manifest discomfort of 
 Danforth who had a boyish antipathy to being 
 coddled. But bright as Bobbie always was, 
 lovable as she could be when she chose, Marga- 
 ret's real enjoyment lay with the boys, in Jack's 
 proud, manly spirit, in Danforth's gentle affection. 
 And the boys responded generously to her love, 
 showing in countless little ways their hearty ad- 
 miration for her, their enjoyment of her society 
 and their' willingness to be guided by her judg- 
 ment. 
 
 She saw more of Gerald, too, at this time. A 
 troublesome cold and cough kept him at home in 
 the evenings, 'and he usually formed one of the 
 group about the drawing-room fire, where they 
 gathered to listen to Margaret's singing, and to 
 devour the* vast pans of popcorn which formed a 
 part of Jack's nightly program. Margaret found 
 the young man a charming addition to their circle,
 
 204 MARGARET DAVIS, TUTOR. 
 
 and, moved by a shy, nameless pity for him, she 
 watched over him, quick to anticipate his wishes 
 and minister to his comfort, all unconscious of the 
 new, deep look of pain which sometimes crossed 
 his pleasant face. 
 
 They were all sitting there in the drawing-room, 
 one night, Gerald and his mother reading at one 
 table, while Margaret and the children were play- 
 ing stop, at the opposite side of the fireplace. 
 
 " Just fancy the feelings of my respected great- 
 grandma," suggested Jack wickedly ; " if she could 
 see us playing cards on top of her table ! I'm glad 
 she can't appear to us." 
 
 " What for ? " inquired Danforth, looking up 
 from his hand. " Most likely she played cards 
 herself." 
 
 " Don't you believe it," returned Jack, with con- 
 viction. " She was too near puritan days, and 
 probably thought cards were a sin." 
 
 " Nine of spades ! Ten of spades ! " proclaimed 
 Bobbie. " Is it a stop ? " And she looked inquir- 
 ingly about the table. 
 
 " 'Tis, for all me," said Jack. 
 
 " And me," added Danforth. " How is it with 
 you, Miss Davis ? " 
 
 But Margaret had lost all consciousness of the
 
 HIDE AND SEEK. 205 
 
 game, for she had overheard Gerald's last remark 
 to his mother and, of a sudden, the voices of the 
 children had grown faint and far-away. 
 
 " Oh, by the way," he had said, looking up from 
 his book ; " Thornton is coming over here to-night. 
 He came to the office, just as I was leaving, to get 
 me to help him out of some sort of a muddle about 
 their right of way. I told him to come over, this 
 evening, and we'd talk it up, at our ease. I told 
 Maggie to bring him in here, when he came, 
 for I thought you'd like to meet him. He's a 
 thoroughly good fellow and a gentleman." 
 
 " Is it a stop, Miss Davis ? " demanded Bobbie 
 impatiently. 
 
 "N no, yes, I'm not sure." And Mar- 
 garet stared blankly at her cards. 
 
 " Have you the jack of spades ? We want 
 him," explained Jack, looking in amazement at 
 his tutor, for she was usually quick to think. 
 
 " No ; it isn't here," responded Margaret hastily, 
 while her unseeing eyes rested upon the jack, 
 which lay uppermost in her hand. 
 
 Five minutes later, Bobbie challenged her for 
 playing the missing card, and Margaret roused her- 
 self from her dream. 
 
 " Forgive me, Bobbie," she said contritely. " I
 
 206 MARGAKET DAVIS, TUTOR. 
 
 didn't mean to; but I forgot. I'm not feeling 
 quite well to-night," she added, with a wan little 
 smile ; " and, if you'll excuse me, I'll go up into my 
 room and lie down for a while." 
 
 She was but just in time, for, as she went wearily 
 up the stairs, she heard the bell ring. Mechani- 
 cally she paused for a moment in the dark upper 
 hall, to listen to Maggie's steps as she went to 
 admit the guest. Then, turning suddenly, she 
 fled to her room and closed the door, as if she 
 dared not trust herself to hear the well-known 
 voice which was asking for Gerald. 
 
 For some unexplained reason, Grandma Ather- 
 ton felt a quick liking for the stranger who came 
 into the room. To be sure, Grandma Atherton's 
 hospitality and her liking for young people were 
 almost boundless ; and the mere fact that it was a 
 friend of Gerald's would have led her to adopt a tone 
 of cordiality to any one whom he chose to introduce. 
 However, this young man was quite to her taste. 
 
 It would be hard to say wherein lay the attrac- 
 tion, for Mr. Thornton was far from being handsome. 
 In fact, his dark face was undeniably homely ; but, 
 apart from all that, there was such an air of simple 
 sincerity and manliness about him, that one forgot 
 his face in listening to the hearty ring of his voice
 
 HIDE AND SEEK. 207 
 
 and in feeling the firm grasp of his hand. And 
 yet, tall and strong and athletic as he was, there 
 was nothing about him that seemed to dwarf 
 Gerald into insignificance, as sometimes happened 
 with large men. There was nothing aggressive 
 about his personality. On the contrary, under all 
 his healthy, vigorous physique, there was a lurking 
 suggestion of gentleness and quiet. 
 
 He was but just seated before the fire, answer- 
 ing with an easy courtesy to Grandma Atherton's 
 welcome, when there came a strange interruption. 
 Laddie, who had been dozing in the library, had 
 wakened at the sound of the bell, and lifted his 
 head in a dreamy curiosity. He had just let it 
 drop back again on his yellow paws, and nestled 
 down to sleep once more, when he heard Mr. 
 Thornton's voice in the drawing-room. He started 
 up, listened eagerly for a moment until he heard 
 the voice again, then he dashed into the drawing- 
 room and threw himself upon the stranger, licking 
 his face and crying aloud in his joy over the unex- 
 pected meeting. 
 
 Fearing that Mr. Thornton might resent Lad- 
 die's excited demonstrations, Jack had sprung for- 
 ward to pull him away. To his surprise, he saw 
 the young man bending over the dog, stroking his
 
 208 MARGARET DAVIS, TUTOR. 
 
 golden head and calling him by his name, with 
 apparently as much pleasure in the meeting as 
 Laddie himself had shown. 
 
 "Why, do you know Laddie?" he asked, in 
 amazement. 
 
 " You can see for yourself," answered Mr. 
 Thornton, with a smile. " But do tell me how you. 
 came to have him." 
 
 " He isn't ours," explained Gerald, who was 
 looking on in surprise at the dog's wild greeting. 
 " He is only a guest, for he belongs to the chil- 
 dren's tutor, Miss Davis." 
 
 " Miss Davis ! " Mr. Thornton gave a quick 
 start of surprise, which was hidden by a fresh 
 onslaught from Laddie. 
 
 "Yes; Miss Margaret Davis. Do you know 
 her?" 
 
 But Mr. Thornton had already mastered him- 
 self, and he answered, with seeming indifference, 
 
 " Yes ; that is, I met her a few times, two or 
 three years ago ; but she has probably forgotten 
 me. I used to see the dog often, though, and I 
 petted him a good deal. You see, he remembers 
 his old friend." 
 
 " Miss Davis was here till just before you came 
 in," said Bobbie, who had been casting admiring
 
 HIDE AND SEEK. 209 
 
 glances at the stranger; "but all at once she 
 didn't feel well, and went to lie down. I'll call 
 her, if you'd like." 
 
 " Oh, no ; it would be too bad to disturb her. 
 I will wait till some other time ; that is, if your 
 grandmother will allow me to come again." And 
 he looked at Grandma Atherton, with a face 
 which had suddenly lost all its genial smile. 
 
 A little later, Danforth left the drawing-room, 
 where Jack had subsided into a book and Bobbie 
 was posing before the fire, with one eye upon the 
 guest. He went softly up the stairs and along 
 the hall to Margaret's door where he paused for 
 a moment ; then he knocked gently. 
 
 " Come in," said Margaret's voice. 
 
 " I only came up to see if you didn't want some- 
 thing," said the boy, as he opened the door into 
 the dark room. 
 
 " Oh, Dan ? Come in, dear ; I only want you." 
 And she sat up on the sofa, where she had thrown 
 herself. 
 
 "I'm afraid I'll disturb you," he said, drawing 
 back as if to go away. 
 
 " No ; 'twas good of you to come, and I wish 
 you'd stay a little while," said Margaret, touched 
 by his evident wish to do something for her.
 
 210 MARGARET DAVIS, TUTOR. 
 
 "If I'm not in the way." And he came for- 
 ward to her side. " I was afraid you were ill and 
 might need something, and the others were busy, 
 talking with Mr. Thornton." 
 
 To his surprise and alarm, Margaret's head went 
 down on the pillow, and he heard a smothered sob. 
 It had never before occurred to him that a grown 
 woman could cry, least of all, his bright, merry 
 Miss Davis. 
 
 "What is it?" he asked in dismay. "Shall I 
 call grandma?" 
 
 " Oh, don't," she begged, choking back her tears. 
 " I'm only a little tired and nervous. Just don't 
 say anything about it, dear. Stay here and talk 
 to me for a while, and I shall feel better. I was 
 lonely, truly," she added wistfully, as the boy 
 dropped down beside her on the sofa, never 
 dreaming how deep was the loneliness of which 
 she spoke.
 
 CHAPTER XI. 
 
 JACK'S SKATING. 
 
 " OH, Miss Davis, the funniest thing ! " And 
 Bobbie dropped into the nearest chair, as she 
 pulled off her mittens and unfastened her jacket. 
 
 "What now?" asked Margaret quietly, for 
 Bobbie reveled .in superlatives and, whenever she 
 was at all eager or excited, her conversation was 
 thickly sprinkled with exclamation points. 
 
 " Why, grandma sent me over to Riverton for 
 some more yarn, and I just stopped in at Pen's for 
 a minute or two, and there sat Dan. Did you 
 ever?" 
 
 " Ever sit there ? " queried Margaret, with a 
 smile, though at heart she was as much surprised 
 as Bobbie could have wished, at the thought of 
 quiet Dan's going of his own will to call on 
 any girl, least of all, the irrepressible Penel- 
 ope, whom he had always treated with such 
 indifference. 
 
 " No ; you know I don't mean that," said Bob- 
 
 211
 
 212 MARGARET DAVIS, TUTOR. 
 
 bie a little impatiently. " But the idea of Dan, 
 our Dan, going to see Pen, all his lonesome ! " 
 
 " Perhaps he went on some errand or other," 
 suggested Margaret, laughing at Bobbie's sisterly 
 incredulity that her brother could find any other 
 girl attractive. 
 
 " No ; he didn't." And Bobbie shook her head 
 in violent dissent. " He didn't act so a bit, for his 
 overcoat was off, and he was sitting down his whole 
 weight, with Pen's everlasting old white cat on his 
 knee. You know he hates cats. I tried to make 
 him come home with me ; but Pen teased him to 
 stay a little longer, and he just wouldn't budge." 
 And Bobbie paused to sigh over the unwonted 
 situation. 
 
 "But why shouldn't he run in to see Pen? 
 He's known her so long and so well," urged Mar- 
 garet, much amused by Bobbie's excitement. 
 
 " Yes ; only it's so funny," responded Bobbie, 
 returning to her original proposition. " But 
 won't I give it to him when he does come 
 home." And springing up, she danced from 
 one toe to the other, laughing exultantly to 
 herself, meanwhile. 
 
 " No, Bobbie ; please not." And Margaret 
 looked up suddenly.
 
 JACK'S SKATING. 213 
 
 " Why not ? " asked Bobbie maliciously. " It's 
 such a joke, and 'twould make Dan wild." 
 
 " Just the reason you ought to keep still about it, 
 little girl," said Margaret. " Remember how sensi- 
 tive Dan is, Bobbie, and that what may seem a good 
 joke to you or Jack, may really hurt him. You 
 do hurt him oftener than you know," she added 
 gently. " Dan is too kind to do it to you, and it's 
 not quite fair for you to tease him so unmerci- 
 fully." 
 
 " But I don't tease him, Miss Davis," protested 
 Bobbie, as she threw herself into the chair again, 
 with a pout. " He's babyish, and makes a fuss 
 over every little thing." 
 
 " Babies don't usually save their friends from 
 being burned to death," observed Margaret, hold- 
 ing up her work to survey the bunch of nastur- 
 tiums she was embroidering on Bobbie's new 
 tablespread. 
 
 "I don't mean that way," returned Bobbie 
 quickly. " Dan has sand enough, as Jack calls 
 it ; but he's more than half girl, after all, and if 
 you scold him or tease him the least little bit, it 
 upsets him." 
 
 " Then, if you know it so well, what makes you 
 do it?" asked Margaret promptly. "Yqu really
 
 214 MARGARET DAVIS, TUTOR. 
 
 can't enjoy hurting Dan, Bobbie. I supposed you 
 only did it by accident. Dan is very fine, and 
 sometimes, after your sharp words, I have seen 
 him draw back as if you had struck him. You 
 keep teasing him, and yet, he would do anything 
 he could for you." 
 
 "Well," Bobbie was beginning defensively, 
 when she was interrupted by the sound of Jack's 
 voice from the library. 
 
 " I don't care, I shall go," he was saying ex- 
 citedly. 
 
 " But I tell you the ice isn't strong enough," 
 Grandpa Atherton answered, in the overbearing 
 tone he sometimes used with the boys, and which 
 invariably roused Jack to rebellion. 
 
 " The fellows are all there, and there's no dan- 
 ger." And Jack made a little, impatient motion 
 which set his skates to clicking against each other. 
 
 " It makes no difference to me what the other 
 fellows do. As long as you stay in this house, I 
 shall insist upon your minding me," said his grand- 
 father, with unnecessary sternness. 
 
 Margaret could fancy just how Jack's dark eyes 
 were flashing, and she longed to go in and break 
 up the angry conference ; but she dared not 
 interfere.
 
 JACK'S SKATING. 215 
 
 "But I told Ellie I'd come down, and he'll wait 
 for me," begged Jack. " It's perfectly safe, grand- 
 pa; they've been skating there for two days. I 
 don't see why you won't let me go." 
 
 " Because I say that it isn't best," said Grandpa 
 Atherton angrily. " That is all you need to know 
 about it. You are here to mind me, and I expect 
 to have prompt, ready obedience." 
 
 For a moment, Jack glared at his grandfather 
 without speaking ; then he muttered, 
 
 " I'll skate if I choose, there or somewhere else." 
 And he stalked out of the library, jerking aside 
 the portiere with an impatient regret that there 
 was no door to bang, as an outlet for his exasper- 
 ated feelings. 
 
 It was a clear, crisp day in late January. A 
 sudden thaw, followed by a few days of unusual 
 cold, had covered the river above the dam with a 
 smooth sheet of ice, which had aroused the admi- 
 ration of every owner of a pair of skates, and 
 already the broad surface of the river was thick 
 with a crowd of boys and girls. On his way to 
 Riverton, that morning, Jack had encountered 
 Ellsworth Pierson who had started for the ice; 
 and Jack had rushed off home for his skates, 
 promising to meet his friend at the end of the
 
 216 MARGARET DAVIS, TUTOR. 
 
 bridge. The snow had come early, that year, 
 and this was the first good skating of the season, 
 so it was doubly provoking to be stopped in the 
 hall, and forbidden to have a share in the sport. 
 If only Grandpa Atherton had not been quite so 
 decided about it, Jack could have borne the disap- 
 pointment more easily ; but there was something 
 very irritating about his grandfather's tone and 
 manner, as if he were expecting direct disobedi- 
 ence and were prepared to combat it to the last 
 moment. 
 
 Margaret always dreaded these contests, for, 
 although Jack's conscience was tender and he 
 suffered the pangs of remorse later, in the time 
 of them, he was too angry to care what he said. 
 Moreover, she felt that they gave a wrong im- 
 pression of the boy to Grandpa Atherton who, 
 by reason of his deafness, lost much of Jack's 
 conversation in his gentler moods, and rarely saw 
 him during the fits of penitence, which followed 
 his outbursts as inevitably as the hush follows a 
 violent thunder shower. Now she crossed the 
 room to the window, and stood looking after Jack 
 as he walked slowly down the drive, with his 
 collar turned up about his ears, his skates slung 
 about his neck and his little gray cap on the back
 
 JACK'S SKATING. 217 
 
 of his dark hair. Already the reaction had come, 
 and his very walk showed his dejection, though 
 he did his best to cover it under an assumption of 
 scornful indifference. Then he disappeared below 
 the edge of the hill, and Margaret returned to her 
 work ; but through all the rest of the long morn- 
 ing, she never once lost the little feeling of regret 
 and discomfort which Jack's outburst had caused 
 her. 
 
 Lunch-time came and went without Jack's ap- 
 pearing ; but that fact caused no comment for, on 
 Saturdays when the children had no lessons, they 
 were often irregular at the meal. Nothing had 
 been said to Grandma Atherton or Gerald, in 
 regard to the morning's discussion ; and yet there 
 seemed to be a little cloud resting over the table, 
 and Bobbie was too much out of spirits even to 
 tease Danforth about his sudden interest in Penel- 
 ope. 
 
 Margaret had promised to go for a ride with 
 Danforth, that afternoon ; so, soon after lunch, 
 they set out, with Duke prancing and pawing the 
 snow, and the gay little sleigh heaped high with 
 fur robes. Tempted by the bright, cold day and 
 the fine sleighing, they were out longer than they 
 had intended, and it was already sunset when
 
 218 MARGARET DAVIS, TUTOR. 
 
 they drove up to the door again. Grandma Ath- 
 erton met them on the steps, looking strangely 
 excited. 
 
 " Miss Davis, where is Jack ? " she asked 
 quickly. 
 
 "Jack? I've not seen him," answered Mar- 
 garet, in some surprise, for, in her enjoyment of 
 the drive, she had forgotten the conversation 
 which she had overheard, that morning. 
 
 " He hasn't come home yet. It is so late, and 
 Mr. Atherton says they had some sharp words, just 
 as he was going away. I am so afraid something 
 has happened to him." And she looked piteously 
 at Margaret, as if begging for a word to reassure 
 her. 
 
 For some reason, Margaret felt her heart grow 
 heavy with a sudden fear. Jack would never 
 mean deliberately to disobey his grandfather ; but 
 he was always rash and quick-tempered, and he 
 had gone away from home in a dangerously reck- 
 less mood. 
 
 " He said something about Ellie," said Bobbie, 
 who had followed her grandmother to the door 
 and stood watching her in awed silence. " Maybe 
 he'd know where Jack is." 
 
 Margaret turned to Danforth.
 
 JACK'S SKATING. 219 
 
 "Dan, will you ?" 
 
 But Danforth was already half way down the 
 hill, and Margaret turned back to Grandma Ather- 
 ton again. 
 
 "Come in to the fire, dear," she said gently. 
 " You are shivering, and I am afraid you'll take 
 cold. Jack is probably with Ellie, and he will 
 come back with Dan, in a few minutes." 
 
 But though she tried to smile, Grandma Ather- 
 ton was too anxious and sorrowful to respond 
 to Margaret's efforts to soothe her. She stood 
 by the drawing-room window, looking after her 
 grandson as he went flying across the distant 
 bridge, and then was lost to sight between the 
 buildings on the farther side of the river. 
 
 " If he would only hurry a little ! " she said 
 almost impatiently, although the boy was urging 
 Duke forward at the top of his speed. 
 
 In less than half an hour afterward, he was back 
 again, breathless and chilled. 
 
 " Ellie hasn't seen him since morning," he said, 
 throwing himself into the nearest chair. " He 
 promised to go skating on the river with Ellie, 
 and Ellie waited for him ; but when he came he 
 was rattled about something and wouldn't go to 
 the river at all. He said he was going up to the
 
 220 MARGARET DAVIS, TUTOR. 
 
 reservoir, and wanted Ellie to go with him ; but 
 Ellie wouldn't. He tried to make Jack stay here, 
 for 'twas so far, and he'd heard that the ice wasn't 
 safe up there. Jack stuck to it he'd go, and went 
 off alone ; and Ellie hasn't seen him since." 
 
 " The reservoir! " And Gerald came hastily out 
 from the library. " Jackson's men were telling me 
 to-day that the ice there isn't good for anything. 
 Jack never would walk up there, either." Never- 
 theless,, he was pulling on his coat while he was 
 talking. 
 
 "Where are you going, Jerry?" asked his 
 mother anxiously. 
 
 " I think I'll walk up that way," he said reassur- 
 ingly. "We may meet him, or else he will be 
 here before we get back. You'll come, won't you, 
 Dan ; or are you too tired ? " he asked, turning to 
 his nephew who had risen and was restlessly walk- 
 ing up and down the hall. " We shall be back by 
 seven, at the latest ; but don't wait dinner for us." 
 
 The hour that followed was a long and anxious 
 one. In vain Margaret tried to convince herself 
 that it was a false alarm, that Jack would come 
 back to them, safe and well. She could only re- 
 call the dull foreboding with which she had 
 watched him go down the hill ; and she was con-
 
 JACK'S SKATING. 221 
 
 scious that her words had the ring of insincerity, 
 as she endeavored to encourage Grandma Ather- 
 ton who sat by the window, staring out into the 
 gathering darkness and starting nervously at every 
 sound. Grandpa Atherton was tramping up and 
 down the hall, and Bobbie was roaming about the 
 house, too restless to settle to any employment, al- 
 though she insisted upon it that she knew Jack 
 would be at home before Uncle Jerry. 
 
 Slowly the moments dragged away. It .seemed 
 at times as if the clocks must have stopped ; then 
 again they could hear the solemn tick, tick of the 
 tall old clock in the dining-room, as it told off the 
 seconds, in just the same tone it had used when 
 Grandpa Atherton's first shrill cry broke the still- 
 ness of the ancient rooms. It had ticked a monot- 
 onous welcome to the baby boy ; it had ticked a 
 slow, sad farewell to the young mother, and, from 
 that day to this, it had gravely ticked out its mes- 
 sage in the stillness which accompanied every 
 family crisis. What was it saying now ? 
 
 Seven o'clock came, half past seven, eight ; and 
 still no one appeared. At length steps were heard 
 outside. Something in their sound told Margaret 
 that they were the bearers of no good news. A 
 moment later, the door opened, and Danforth and
 
 222 MARGARET DAVIS, TUTOR. 
 
 his uncle came into the hall. There was no need 
 for words ; their white, set faces, the weary hope- 
 lessness of every gesture told the sad truth, that 
 the time for watching and waiting had ended, and 
 that for endurance had come. 
 
 When the first outburst of grief was over, 
 Gerald told his short story : how, fearing the 
 darkness, they had stopped at a strange house 
 to borrow lanterns, and then pressed on to the 
 pond, as rapidly as they could ; how they had 
 found the ice thin and broken about the edges, 
 and with a great, angry-looking dark hole in the 
 middle, and how Danforth had caught sight of a 
 small, light object floating there ; how they had 
 torn away rails from a fence near by, and carefully 
 worked their way over the ice until, with a long 
 pole, they had drawn the object towards them, to 
 find it a little cap of pale gray cloth. That was 
 all. They said no word of the long, dreary walk 
 homeward, when their hearts were breaking with 
 their own sorrow, and with their knowledge of 
 the anguish they were carrying to those who 
 watched at home. 
 
 Slowly the night wore away. No one had 
 thought of dinner; no one thought to go to 
 bed. It seemed as if the routine of the house
 
 JACK'S SKATING. 223 
 
 had suddenly stopped, and its life were ended; 
 only the old clock went on, on, as if its tale were 
 not all told. Up-stairs in the Wilderness, sur- 
 rounded by the countless treasures which Jack 
 had stored there, Danforth and Bobbie were hud- 
 dled together on the floor, now sobbing convul- 
 sively, now still, and holding their breaths to 
 listen yet once more for the well-known step and 
 voice. Down in the library, Gerald was trying to 
 quiet arid comfort his mother, holding himself out- 
 wardly calm for her sake, though he shuddered as 
 he thought of the dread work in store for him, with 
 the first light of day. Margaret did what she could 
 for Grandma Atherton ; then she went away and 
 left the mother and son together, for she felt she 
 had no right to intrude upon their sorrow, and she 
 knew that the children were longing to have her 
 come to them. As she passed the drawing-room 
 door, she paused for a moment, wondering whether 
 she ought to go to Grandpa Atherton, who sat 
 alone by the dying fire. Then she heard his voice, 
 husky and broken, 
 
 "Oh, Father, if I have caused this, punish me, 
 not him! Nevertheless, not as I will " His 
 words died away, and Margaret could hear the 
 old man sobbing like a little child.
 
 224 MARGARET DAVIS, TUTOR. 
 
 One after another, the old clock chimed out the 
 hours, every one of them carrying bright, merry 
 Jack farther into the past, away from their present 
 lives. Up in the Wilderness, Bobbie had cried 
 herself to sleep on the sofa; but Danforth and 
 Margaret still sat before the fire, talking of Jack 
 and trying to realize the blow which had come 
 upon them. In his sorrow, the boy had drawn 
 even closer to Margaret ; and as she sat stroking 
 the yellow head resting against her shoulder, and 
 speaking a few words from time to time, she felt 
 that here was her return for the care and love she 
 had given him, the ability to meet him in his grief 
 and, in a measure, to share it with him. 
 
 At length the new day showed, faint and gray, 
 through the eastern windows. It was not so bad 
 in the night, for then it seemed as if the whole 
 world were sharing in their darkness, and lying 
 silent in sympathy with their sorrow. But the 
 morning would bring in the familiar sights and 
 sounds of their every-day lives, which as yet they 
 were powerless to meet. Danforth was so still 
 that Margaret hoped he had dropped into a doze ; 
 but, as she stirred slightly, he looked up, and she 
 saw that he had not been sleeping. Down-stairs, 
 all was quiet, except for the clock which still
 
 JACK'S SKATING. 225 
 
 continued its measured strokes, on and always on. 
 Slowly the gray light in the east grew stronger ; 
 then its lower edge was tinged with a rosy glow, 
 which broadened and deepened into a band of 
 dazzling scarlet, until, from its very midst, rose the 
 flaming circle of the sun which shone pitilessly in 
 upon the mourning household. It had just left the 
 horizon, and Margaret was stealing quietly across 
 the room to draw the curtains, that the sudden 
 flood of light might not arouse Bobbie, when she 
 caught the sound of the quick trot of a horse's feet. 
 The next moment, the outer door flew open, and 
 a boyish voice was heard shouting, 
 
 " Where are you, everybody? Grandma ! Uncle 
 Jerry ! Breakfast ! " 
 
 Bobbie and Danforth were on their feet in a 
 twinkling, and rushed down-stairs just as Grandma 
 Atherton, pale and trembling, caught her grand- 
 son in her arms. It took only a moment for Jack 
 to tell of his adventures. Unwilling to disobey 
 his grandfather, but determined to skate in spite 
 of him, he had gone to the reservoir, where the 
 ice had broken under him. Fortunately for Jack, 
 some wood-choppers had seen him sinking and 
 rushing to the spot, they had succeeded in catch- 
 ing him, just as he was going down for the last
 
 226 MARGARET DAVIS, TUTOR. 
 
 time. They had taken him out, drenched and 
 shivering, and had hurried him away to their 
 rough cabin ; but by the time that his clothes 
 were sufficiently dry to allow him to put them on 
 once more, it was too late for a return over the 
 rough mountain roads ; but, with the first light of 
 the dawn, they had set off for home. The risen 
 sun of the new day looked in upon the rejoicing 
 family, while the old clock ticked its welcome to 
 the wanderer. 
 
 The first glad murmur died away and a hush 
 fell upon the little group, as Grandpa Atherton 
 extended his hand above their heads in bene- 
 diction, while he said brokenly, 
 
 " For this my son was dead, and is alive again ; 
 and was lost, and is found." 
 
 Then he bowed his head upon his clasped hands.
 
 CHAPTER XII. 
 
 THE MEETING OF OLD FRIENDS. 
 
 EVER since morning, the clouds had been hang- 
 ing low over the hills. By noon they had settled 
 down in a solid, dark gray pall, and the air from 
 time to time was thick with a flurry of fallen 
 flakes, while a biting wind swept down through 
 the valley, whirling the white particles before it 
 in a cloud. 
 
 " Even if 'tis late in the season, this is going to 
 be the storm of the winter," Gerald had said, as he 
 was buttoning his coat, preparatory to returning 
 to his office after lunch. "I'm glad our electric 
 line is through ; I shouldn't care to walk over to 
 Riverton and back twice to-day." 
 
 An hour later, Jack came into the library where 
 the others sat cuddled over the fire. 
 
 " Anybody here that wants to go out for a 
 walk?" he inquired. "I'm going over to River- 
 ton ; want to come, somebody ? " 
 227
 
 228 MARGARET DAVIS, TUTOR. 
 
 " Catch me ! " And Bobbie shook her head in 
 scorn. 
 
 " What's struck you to go out, such an after- 
 noon, Jack ? " asked Danforth lazily. " You must 
 be hard up." 
 
 " Evidently you're no good. Well, I suppose 
 I shall have to go alone," said Jack, with his 
 eyes fixed suggestively upon Margaret. 
 
 She took the hint and rose. 
 
 " I believe I'd like to go ; that is, if you'll let 
 me," she said. 
 
 "Good for you! But I'm going to walk, I 
 warn you, and I want to go clear over to the 
 printing-office, to get some ink and ask Mr. Mer- 
 rill how to take my press apart to oil it. It's 
 getting dreadfully squeaky." 
 
 "Ought you^to go, Miss Davis?" asked Grand- 
 ma Atherton. " It's snowing hard already, and 
 I'm afraid the storm will be worse than you think." 
 
 "I don't mind storms," answered Margaret 
 lightl} r . " I'll dress for it, and I am used to being 
 out in all weathers, so I never take cold. I will 
 be ready in a few minutes, Jack, and then I'll 
 walk as far and as fast as you please." 
 
 " Oh, Jacky, let me go too." And Bobbie 
 started up.
 
 THE MEETING OF OLD FKIENDS. 229 
 
 "Oh, Bobbie, I won't," he responded. "You 
 wouldn't go, a minute ago, and now you can't." 
 
 " But I didn't know Miss Davis was going," 
 she urged. "Let me go with you." 
 
 " Not much ! You had your chance and lost 
 it. I asked you to go, and you said you wouldn't ; 
 and now I don't want you." And Jack marched 
 out into the hall to wait for Margaret, leaving 
 Danforth to console his sister as best he might. 
 
 It was not entirely devotion to Jack which had 
 roused Margaret, that afternoon. In spite of the 
 storm, the prospect of a long walk was very 
 attractive to her, accustomed as she was to being 
 out every day and in all sorts of weather. For 
 at least a part of the time between the morning 
 lessons and the long, quiet evenings by the fire, 
 she loved to be out in the open air. There was 
 an almost intoxicating pleasure, to her strong, 
 young womanhood, in fighting her way through 
 storm and wind and rain. It had been a constant 
 source of surprise to her, in her experience of 
 Riverton, to find how much more the people there 
 dreaded facing a storm, than in the larger city 
 where she had always lived. At home, her 
 friends went out whenever they chose, regard- 
 less of the weather ; but here in the little village
 
 230 MARGARET DAVIS, TUTOR. 
 
 at the foot of the hill, where one would have 
 naturally expected to find a hardy race of coun- 
 trymen, out-of-door life was practically suspended 
 in a storm. Even the men and boys shut them- 
 selves up in the house and waited for the sun 
 to shine again, before they would venture to stir 
 from under shelter. How much real enjoyment 
 such people missed, she thought to herself pity- 
 ingly, as she dressed for her walk. There was 
 an exhilaration in facing a driving storm, which 
 few things else could equal. 
 
 Hastily putting on a short blue serge skirt, 
 kept for just such occasions, and adding her 
 mackintosh and a saucy little toque to match 
 it, she went running down the stairs, looking 
 such a pretty picture of perfect health and en- 
 joyment, that Jack felt moved to express his 
 approbation, as they went floundering away down 
 the hill, through the deepening snow. 
 
 " It's some fun to go out with a woman that 
 isn't afraid of the snow," he remarked, with an 
 admiring glance at Margaret's head and shoulders 
 which were already powdered with the falling 
 flakes. " They generally have to have so many 
 umbrellas and things, that they lose all the fun 
 of being out."
 
 THE MEETING OF OLD FRIENDS. 231 
 
 "I wouldn't have missed it for anything," 
 panted Margaret, pausing for a moment with 
 her back to the gale. " Don't tell, Jack ; but 
 it makes me want to run, just like a cat when 
 the wind blows." 
 
 "Come on, then; why not?" And Jack set 
 off at full speed. 
 
 Margaret looked over her shoulder to see that 
 she was unobserved ; then, carried away by the 
 excitement of the storm, she went flying after 
 him, down the long drive and out into the road, 
 where she halted, laughing and breathless. 
 
 " I repeat it, don't tell of me, Jack," she said, 
 as soon as she could speak. " 'Twas very undig- 
 nified ; but I always lose my head, in a day like 
 this." 
 
 " Wish you lost it oftener," remarked Jack 
 approvingly. " I know how you feel, though ; 
 I've often been so." 
 
 "I suppose I must be proper again, now we 
 are in sight of everybody. Is my hat straight?" 
 she asked, as she settled two or three hairpins 
 loosened by her run. 
 
 "Straight enough," responded Jack, with a 
 lofty indifference to the fact that all a woman's 
 dignity depends upon an accurate placing of her
 
 232- MARGARET DAVIS, TUTOR. 
 
 headgear. "Come ahead." And he tramped 
 away to the bridge. 
 
 Margaret fell into step at his side. In spite of 
 the snow and the consequent difficulty of walking, 
 Jack's long, swinging step was just what she en- 
 joyed, and frequent practice in walking together 
 had taught them just what pace to adopt. 
 
 "There aren't many women who know how to 
 walk," Jack had remarked, one day, with boyish 
 scorn. "Some of them lop and roll and wobble 
 along, and the rest generally trot till it makes me 
 out of breath to watch them. You walk the way 
 the English women did, we used to see in India ; 
 the way they did when they first came out, that 
 is. They lost it all by the time they'd been there 
 a few weeks." 
 
 Even Margaret was glad to rest for a few mo- 
 ments, by the time they reached the safe haven of 
 the printing-office. Chief among Jack's Christmas 
 gifts had been a little press, which now was ab- 
 sorbing most of his time and attention, and Uncle 
 Jerry had given him a note of introduction to Mr. 
 Merrill, the editor of the local paper. Accord- 
 ingly, the kindly old gentleman could receive the 
 storm-beaten pedestrians into his official sanctum, 
 without fear of their having manuscript poems
 
 THE MEETING OP OLD FRIENDS. 233 
 
 concealed about their persons, ready to be drawn 
 forth at a moment's notice. Their host drew two 
 chairs up to the register, while he expressed his 
 hospitable surprise at seeing a woman out in such 
 a storm, until Margaret began to feel that he re- 
 garded her as being a particularly aggressive 
 young Amazon. Then, as soon as they were 
 seated, Jack launched forth a shower of questions 
 in regard to the technicalities of the business. 
 The old man listened attentively, much amused 
 by the boy's eager interest and by the information 
 upon the subject, which he had contrived to pick 
 up. Encouraged by Mr. Merrill's genial manner, 
 Jack chattered on, all-unconscious of the fact that, 
 at home, Bobbie was revenging herself for his re- 
 fusal to let her join them in their walk, by empty- 
 ing into one heterogeneous pile his carefully-sorted 
 fonts of type. 
 
 " You see," Jack explained at length, with one 
 of his brilliant smiles ; " as soon as I get a little 
 more used to running it, I'm going to start up a 
 weekly paper like yours, only larger. There are 
 lots of the fellows that would take it ; but I don't 
 just know how I can get stuff to fill it. Do you 
 write most of The Register yourself; or how do 
 you get it?"
 
 234 MARGARET DAVIS, TUTOR. 
 
 Mr. Merrill smiled, as he recalled his overflow- 
 ing waste-basket. 
 
 " I have a good deal sent to me, one time and 
 another," he admitted; "sometimes more than I 
 can use." 
 
 " That's what I supposed," said Jack promptly. 
 " Now, why couldn't you sell some of it out to 
 me ? I'd pay something, not very much till I was 
 under way ; but then, 'twould be better than it is 
 to waste it all. I want some good lively stories, 
 and some funny jokes, not chestnuts ; and I sup- 
 pose I'd have to stick in a few poems, just for the 
 looks." 
 
 Leaning back in his revolving chair, Mr. Merrill 
 laughed loud and long, as he thought of the prob- 
 able emotions of aspirants for literary fame, who 
 found their carefully-written lines appearing in 
 Jack's sheet. 
 
 "Excuse me, young man," he said, as soon 
 as he could speak. "I didn't mean to be disre- 
 spectful ; but this struck me as being a new de- 
 parture in journalism. I'm afraid I can't give 
 you my cast-off contributions ; but I'll tell you 
 what I will do, I'll write an editorial for your 
 opening number." 
 
 " That'll be fine," exclaimed Jack eagerly.
 
 THE MEETING OF OLD FRIENDS. 235 
 
 " Make it real long, won't you, so as to fill up a 
 good deal of room. What else do you have ? " 
 
 " Occasionally we interview a few people, if they 
 are very noted," suggested the editor mischiev- 
 ously. " Those things take pretty well, and you 
 might try it. And now our afternoon edition is 
 just going to press, and perhaps you and Miss 
 Davis would like to see it put through." 
 
 Leaving the office, they mounted to the top 
 story of the building where they lingered for a 
 long half-hour in the room, while Mr. Merrill de- 
 voted himself to Margaret's instruction, and Jack 
 roamed about the place at his own sweet will, con- 
 vulsing the compositors with his questions and 
 winning their liking by his bright, interested face 
 and manner. When at length they came down- 
 stairs again and out into the street, they were 
 amazed to find how late it was, and how the snow 
 had accumulated during the time that they had 
 been under cover. 
 
 " It's no use for us to think of walking home, 
 Jack," Margaret said, as a car came down the 
 street toward them, sending a line of fierce blue 
 light along the snow-covered wire. "Let's take 
 this car, and get home as soon as we can." 
 
 It was easier said than done, at least, in so far
 
 236 MARGARET DAVIS, TUTOR. 
 
 as the getting home was concerned. Happily un- 
 conscious of the fact that, for the past half-hour, 
 the same car had been running up arid down over 
 a few hundred feet of track, in its unsuccessful 
 efforts to fight its way onward, they hailed it, and 
 took their seats, congratulating themselves on their 
 good fortune in finding it at hand. So interested 
 were they in talking over their call on Mr. Merrill 
 that, for a few moments, they did not notice the 
 remarkable behavior of their five-cent conveyance. 
 All at once, Jack sprang up and walked to the 
 door. 
 
 " What's the matter here ? " he exclaimed im- 
 patiently. " Why don't we go ahead ? " 
 
 The car was certainly acting in a most peculiar 
 fashion. Now it stood still on the track, while its 
 wheels buzzed round and round on the rails ; now 
 it backed off to a short distance and made little, 
 ineffectual rushes at the unbroken snow ahead ; 
 then it apparently sat down and waited, metaphor- 
 ically speaking, with its hands in its pockets, while 
 the conductor and motorman, seizing their brooms, 
 swept a few feet of track bare and sanded the rails, 
 preparatory to repeating the whole performance 
 once more. At length Jack rebelled. 
 
 " This is getting slightually monotonous," he
 
 THE MEETING OF OLD FRIENDS. 237 
 
 objected, as he looked at his watch. " We've been 
 just the even half-hour in going one block ; at this 
 rate, we shall be till day after to-morrow morning 
 in getting home. Great Csesar!" And he re- 
 mained speechless with disgust, as the car went 
 ignorniniously sliding away down the track to the 
 power-house, half a mile away. 
 
 " Next time we want to get home, we'll take a 
 car headed the wrong way," suggested Margaret 
 laughing. " There is no help for it, Jack, and we 
 may as well make the best of it," she added, as the 
 car stopped at the power-house. 
 
 "We've evidently come back for reinforce- 
 ments," said Jack, as half a dozen men, muffled 
 to the eyes and each bearing a shovel and a pail 
 of sand, took up their positions on the front plat- 
 form. 
 
 They went flying up the track once more, and 
 regained their former position where the fight 
 began in earnest. While Jack went out to recon- 
 noitre, Margaret sat watching the workmen. They 
 were so enveloped in their long coats, with their 
 collars turned up to meet the soft hats pulled 
 down over their faces, so covered with the light 
 snow which clung to their clothing, their beards 
 and even their eyebrows, as to be absolutely un-
 
 238 MARGARET DAVIS, TUTOR. 
 
 recognizable. And how they did work ! She 
 noticed one of them in particular, a tall man in a 
 long black ulster and a little blue yachting cap, 
 who accomplished as much as any other two men, 
 while he seemed to keep the rest in good humor 
 by his constant flow of spirits and fun. She 
 watched him with amused eyes, while he tossed 
 the snow to the right and left, regardless of his 
 fellow workmen who chanced to be within range. 
 She wished that she could see his face. He must 
 be an Irishman, she was sure, as she saw his 
 clumsy purple worsted mittens. Just then Jack 
 came back into the car. 
 
 " Lively prospect," he remarked, dropping down 
 by Margaret's side and taking off his cap to shake 
 away the snow. " We're stuck here, just like a 
 little mice, till the plow can get to us. It's over 
 at the other end of the line now, went up an hour 
 ago, and they'll come back as soon as they can. 
 All they're going to try to do, is to keep one track 
 clear till it stops storming. It's 'most dark now; 
 wish they'd hurry up." 
 
 " We might get out and walk," suggested Mar- 
 garet. 
 
 "No use. You couldn't walk three blocks in 
 this storm, to say nothing of a long mile. No;
 
 THE MEETING OF OLD FRIENDS. 239 
 
 we will stick it out, here. You wait a minute, 
 though ; I've an idea." 
 
 He left the car again, and Margaret saw him 
 leaping through the snow to the pavement. When 
 he reappeared, he had a large paper bag in his 
 hand. 
 
 " Thought we might as well have something to 
 amuse ourselves with," he said triumphantly, as 
 he dropped his burden into Margaret's lap. "That 
 mean little grocery didn't have much in stock ; but 
 I bought some crackers, and some dates so I could 
 see how time went." 
 
 "We're living in deeds, not years, just now," 
 she answered merrily, while the car backed off for 
 a block or two, and then made a fresh lunge at 
 the snow. "I always envied Robinson Crusoe, 
 myself, and it's much more fun to be cast away in 
 a wilderness that has all the modern improvements 
 of rapid transit. We actually went ahead as much 
 as two feet, that time," she added. " I only wish 
 we had a few more passengers, for the sake of ex- 
 citement. I don't believe in monopolies." 
 
 " Most likely they have too much sense to go 
 out in such a storm," returned Jack impertinently. 
 " Just think how much better off you'd be, over 
 the fire at home with Grandma."
 
 240 MARGARET DAVIS, TUTOR. 
 
 ' Never ! " protested Margaret, rising and going 
 to the front door of the car, to look at the work- 
 men. " I wouldn't have missed this frolic for any- 
 thing." 
 
 "It's a blessing that Bob didn't come," said 
 Jack thankfully, as he dived into the bag for a 
 fresh supply of rations. "She'd have been in 
 fifty fits by this time." 
 
 " Jack, come here a minute." Margaret spoke 
 in a low repressed voice. 
 
 "Yes 'um," responded Jack cheerfully, as he 
 went forward to her side. 
 
 " Who is that man ahead there, the one in the 
 little cap ? It's snowing so fast that I can't see 
 his face." 
 
 "That? That's Mr. Thornton, the superin- 
 tendent," said Jack indifferently. " He knows 
 how to make them work, too; he just keeps his 
 men at it, all the time." 
 
 " Mr. Thornton ? " 
 
 "Yes. Haven't you seen him before?" asked 
 Jack, with an utter unconsciousness of his tutor's 
 change of manner. "He was over at the house 
 one evening, you know; where were you? " 
 
 "I I don't know," faltered Margaret, as, held 
 by a strange fascination, she pressed her cheek
 
 THE MEETING OP OLD FRIENDS. 241 
 
 hard against the cold glass of the door, while she 
 stared out at her old friend. Strange that she 
 hadn't recognized him before, she thought, as she 
 gazed at the familiar figure whose every motion 
 brought back to her mind some memory of the 
 past. She no longer saw the other men ; her eyes 
 were for him alone, and she strained them to 
 catch another glimpse of his face through the 
 fast-gathering dusk. She forgot Jack. She even 
 forgot to move away, when Mr. Thornton turned 
 to come back to the car. All at once, he 
 glanced up and met her gaze. She saw the color 
 leave his face, as he took off his cap with a 
 courtesy which he tried in vain to render in- 
 different. If only she dared call him to her, and 
 tell him of all the sad mistake ! But there were 
 Jack and all those strange men, and perhaps he 
 no longer cared. Deep down in her heart, she 
 knew that she was deceiving herself, and that she 
 deserved to suffer for being so foolish ; neverthe- 
 less, she merely gave a slight bow in answer to 
 his salute, and walked away to her seat. 
 
 A moment later there was heard a brisk hum- 
 ming of the wires, and the plow came rushing 
 down the track toward them, scattering the snow 
 before it in a fine, soft mist. It came to a halt,
 
 242 MARGARET DAVIS, TUTOR. 
 
 a few feet away from them, the trolley was re- 
 versed and the men were preparing to start off 
 once more, when Hugh called the motorman to 
 him and gave him some instructions. Then the 
 man entered the car where Jack and Margaret 
 sat, patiently waiting for further developments. 
 
 " Mr. Thornton said I was to ask you if you'd 
 like to ride home in the plow," he said, pausing, 
 hat in hand, before Margaret. " It's likely to be 
 a good while before we get a car through, for this 
 one has to go back to the power-house for more 
 sand. The plow will go straight through, though, 
 and it's safe, even if it isn't a very nice place for a 
 lady like you. Some smoky, you know," he added, 
 in explanation ; " but it's better than 'tis to lie 
 here all night." 
 
 " What a lark ! I've always wanted to see the 
 inside of the thing." And Jack sprang to his 
 feet. " Come ahead, Miss Davis ; we'll go home 
 in style." 
 
 He led the way to the great blue box on wheels, 
 and Margaret climbed into it, feeling as if she 
 were in some strange dream. Hugh stood at a 
 little distance, in the midst of a group of men. 
 She looked at him, appealingly this time ; he 
 raised his cap again. Then the door closed
 
 THE MEETING OF OLD FKIENDS. 243 
 
 behind her, and they went rushing away into 
 the darkness, while Mr. Thornton walked back 
 to the deserted car, saying to himself, 
 
 "She did flirt with me most abominably, and 
 then threw me over like a broken doll ; but, con- 
 found it ! I'm just as bad as ever. If I hadn't 
 my reputation- to make, I'd give up my contract 
 here to-morrow, rather than run the risk of meet- 
 ing her any day. Well, I'll grin and bear it for 
 a while longer." But his face had no suggestion 
 of a grin, as he spoke.
 
 CHAPTER XIII. 
 
 BROTHER JENKINS. 
 
 " DAN SPAULDING, I've a perfectly fine scheme," 
 said Jack, coming suddenly into the Wilderness 
 one day, a week or two later. 
 
 " What now ? " inquired Danf orth, looking up 
 from the bowl of water in which a dozen blue 
 print photographs were floating dejectedly about, 
 in various stages of development. 
 
 " Well, now, you see here," and Jack sat down 
 on the edge of the low table, that he might unfold 
 his plan at his ease. " You know I'm going to 
 start up my paper, in a week or two, now I've 
 succeeded in getting the hang of my press; 
 and I want some good stuff to fill it up with." 
 
 "Write it, then," suggested Danforth indiffer- 
 ently, as he grasped the collar of Laddie, who was 
 apparently seized with a suicidal desire to drink 
 from the water in which the prints lay soaking. 
 
 " I can't write it all," objected Jack. " Besides, 
 the first number ought to be an extra good one, 
 
 244
 
 BROTHER JENKINS. 245 
 
 so all the fellows will think they want to sub- 
 scribe." 
 
 " What do yon want to go into the thing for, 
 anyway ? " asked Danforth. " It will be more 
 trouble than it's worth." 
 
 " What do you want to go into photography 
 for?" retorted Jack. "It's more trouble than it's 
 worth, and, besides, I'll have you arrested for libel, 
 unless you break that last negative of Brownie 
 Bell and me. It looks as if we'd both been dead 
 for a couple of years, and then dug up, all of a 
 sudden, when we weren't expecting it. Now if I 
 pose the whole time for you to try all your experi- 
 ments on, it's only fair that you should help me 
 out with starting' my paper. By the way, what 
 shall I call it?" 
 
 " The Spaulding Chestnut," responded Danforth, 
 with unexpected promptness. " I say," he added, 
 suddenly diving into the bowl before him ; " isn't 
 this coming out finely ? " And he held up a 
 picture of Penelope, with her white cat perched 
 high on her shoulder against the laughing face of 
 her mistress. 
 
 " "Pis good, that's a fact," said Jack approvingly. 
 " You've certainly caught the knack of posing Pen, 
 whatever you do to me. But about the paper, 
 now."
 
 246 MARGARET DAVIS, TUTOR. 
 
 " What is it you're after ? " inquired Danforth. 
 " You might as well out with it, and have it over." 
 
 " It's only something that will be fine for the 
 paper, and give us a jolly lark," replied Jack. 
 " It's just this way ; the day Miss Davis and I 
 were at the Register office, I was asking Mr. 
 Merrill what to do to fill up, and he said I'd 
 better interview somebody. Don't you know 
 how all the papers are interviewing Cleveland 
 and Ward McAllister and that kind of people, 
 about all sorts of things? Everybody wants to 
 know what they'll say about it, and it sells the 
 paper. Now, that's what I'm going to do." 
 
 " Whom will you interview ? " asked Danforth, 
 beginning to grow interested. 
 
 " That's what I couldn't tell, for ever so long ; 
 but, last night, I happened to hear Uncle Jerry 
 talking about that Mr. Smithson, who's just come 
 to Chester to live. He said he's the one that 
 wrote Breeze 'of the Prairie and Breath of the Sea. 
 You know we thought 'twas fine, when we read it, 
 last year." 
 
 " Really, is he that one ? " And Danforth's face 
 lighted with genuine enthusiasm. 
 
 " Yes. I want most awfully to see him, myself, 
 and I think he'd be a splendid one to interview, as
 
 BROTHER JENKINS. 247 
 
 a starter. He must be fine, if he could write a 
 book like that, one of these great, big men, with 
 lots of stories to make your hair stand on end. He 
 might be cross, just at first; but we'd tell him we 
 liked his book, and then he'd be willing to talk, 
 you know." 
 
 " We ? " echoed Danforth interrogatively. 
 
 " Yes, we," replied Jack firmly. " You needn't 
 think I'm going to put it through alone ; you must 
 help me. Besides, reporters always hunt in pairs, 
 one with a note-book and the other with a camera. 
 You'd just do for it, you see." 
 
 " But I don't see, one little bit," protested Dan- 
 forth. " I don't want to get into any such scrape, 
 and you know Uncle Jerry never would let us 
 go." 
 
 " I'll fix all that," said Jack easily. " It's only 
 twenty mile to Chester, so we could go at ten and 
 get back at six. We would just tell him that we 
 were going on an errand that would take us all 
 day, and we'd tell him all about it when we came 
 home. If I'll settle that, will you go down with 
 me, next Saturday ? " 
 
 " I don't half want to." 
 
 " Just think of talking with the man that wrote 
 Breeze of the Prairie ! " urged Jack. " Don't you
 
 248 MAEGAKET DAVIS, TUTOR. 
 
 remember, when we read it, how we both wanted to 
 ask him piles of questions ? " 
 
 "Yes, I know; but And then, what if Mr. 
 Smithson shouldn't like it? " 
 
 " But he will," responded Jack, with conviction. 
 " That kind of people always do. I suppose it 
 makes everybody read their books. Come, Dan," 
 he added persuasively, " I'll promise to have the 
 whole bother of it, and all you'll need to do is to 
 come along with me. It's ever so much more fun 
 to go together, and I won't make you talk any, 
 only just snap your camera at him, when he's talk- 
 ing to me and doesn't notice it. You ought to be 
 willing to do so much. Won't you go ? " 
 
 Danforth yielded, as he always did when Jack's 
 voice took on that tone, half-laughing, half-caress- 
 ing, wholly irresistible. 
 
 " I'll go," he agreed ; " only, if we get into a 
 scrape, I won't be responsible. I'm only going as 
 special artist of the expedition. Now do let me 
 finish these, before they get spoiled." 
 
 " All right ; let's see your catalogue, though." 
 And Jack caught up the little book in which his 
 brother kept recorded the list of his pictures. 
 "Five of Miss Davis, two of Bob, nineteen of 
 Pen, seven of Laddie, and ten of me. Jupiter
 
 BROTHER JENKINS. 249 
 
 Ammon! That's hard on Pen. I thought I'd 
 had the worst of it." And Jack departed, whis- 
 tling. 
 
 Five days later, the boys started upon their first 
 professional errand. Just how Jack bad arranged 
 it with Uncle Jerry, it would be hard to say ; but 
 he had explained their prospective absence for the 
 day, quite to his uncle's satisfaction. At least, 
 the weather was in their favor. It was one of the 
 clear, bright mornings of late March when spring 
 seems close at hand. The two boys looked un- 
 usually manly, as they stepped on board the train. 
 Both were tall for their age and well-formed, and 
 both had the little ease of manner which comes 
 with good birth and good training. Jack's face 
 beamed with smiling assurance, as he patted his 
 pocket wherein lay the shining new note-book, 
 and thought over the generous store of informa- 
 tion he had gained as to the tricks and manners of 
 the interviewer. Danforth followed him, grasping 
 his camera a little nervously, for he had a faint, a 
 very faint doubt as to the propriety of their errand, 
 and he remembered hearing somewhere that great 
 authors were not always very courteous to their 
 lesser brethren of the pen. Nevertheless, he for- 
 got all that as soon as the train started, for Jack
 
 250 MARGARET DAVIS, TUTOR. 
 
 proceeded to unfold his plan of campaign, and 
 Danforth could only admire his brother's brilliant 
 tact in arranging the speeches he would make to 
 the great man whom they were so soon to behold. 
 
 " You see," said Jack, as the train went rushing 
 across the meadows above Chester; "we'll go to 
 the door and ask the servant if we can see Mr. 
 Smithson on professional business. That'll get us 
 in, for he'll probably think that we are a publisher 
 or something, after more books. Then when we 
 get into his library, I'll give him my card and say 
 that we're from The Riverton Junior Review, and 
 think his books are the best ones in the world. 
 By that time, he'll get pretty good-tempered, and 
 I'll pepper him with questions ; and while I am 
 writing down the answers, you turn on the camera, 
 and count the books and the pictures on the walls, 
 and see if he's gray any. He most likely is, for, in 
 Breeze of the Prairie, he said he was fifty when he 
 landed in America. Here we are ! Come on." 
 
 A moment later, the boys stood on the platform, 
 looking after the train which was fast vanishing in 
 a cloud of dust and smoke. Then Jack turned to 
 the elderly baggage master. 
 
 " Can you tell me where Mr. Smithson lives ? " 
 he asked.
 
 BROTHER JENKINS. 251 
 
 " Never heercl of him, sonny," the man replied, 
 as he picked up the pole of his truck. 
 
 This was a double blow to Jack. To be ad- 
 dressed as sonny was bad enough ; but it was 
 nothing in comparison with the disappointment 
 of finding that his hero was unknown to his very 
 neighbors. 
 
 " Never heard of him ! " he repeated blankly. 
 " Why, he's a great author and wrote Breeze of the 
 Prairie" 
 
 " Never heerd of that, either," said the man, with 
 an apologetic chuckle. "Say, Jim," he added, 
 raising his voice ; " know anybody round here 
 named Smithson ? " 
 
 " Nobody but that queer chap that's just built, 
 up on the Hudson place," answered Jim, lounging 
 up to the little group. " Don't you know the one 
 that has the great greenhouse ? come up here last 
 fall." 
 
 " That must be the one," said Jack eagerly. 
 
 " Please tell me how I can find him, and I'll make 
 
 
 
 it worth your while," he added, with a fine assump- 
 tion of being a man of the world. 
 
 But Jim drew back. 
 
 " Don't want your cash, bub. Chester folks are 
 ready to do a stranger a good turn for uothin',
 
 252 MARGARET DAVIS, TUTOR. 
 
 once in a while. Just go up this street here, till 
 you come to a bank ; then turn to your left and 
 keep on for a piece, till you get to an iron water- 
 ing-trough. Most likely you'll see some yaller 
 hens in the road there. Then turn to your left 
 again and go through a stretch of woods, and 
 pretty soon you'll come to the place. It's a great 
 big red house with lots of corners, not a farm- 
 house, but a new-fangled one with colored glass 
 and things, and a greenhouse beside it larger'n the 
 house. No ; no thanks." And he walked away, 
 leaving the boys to set off on their wanderings. 
 
 " He must be awfully rich," said Jack, whose 
 eyes had sparkled at the description of the mag- 
 nificence in which his hero lived. " He'll prob- 
 ably have a butler, or a footman, or something. 
 I 'most wish we'd hired a carriage to take us, 
 Dan." 
 
 " If it's as far as that man said, we shall wish 
 we had a carriage to bring us back," returned 
 Danforth, giving a rakish poke to the, dignified 
 Alpine hat, which replaced the cap he usually 
 wore. " If we get out into the howling wilder- 
 ness, Jack, where '11 we get anything to eat? I'm 
 about starved now, and I never can stand it till 
 night."
 
 BROTHER JENKINS. 253 
 
 " Maybe he'll ask us to stay to lunch," suggested 
 Jack, hopefully. 
 
 On they went, through the pleasant old town 
 and out into the quiet country roads beyond. 
 Apart from the excitement of their errand, it was 
 delightful enough to be out in the air, on such a 
 day as this. They had plenty of time before them, 
 and they strolled slowly along, pausing now and 
 then while Danforth took a snap shot at some 
 especially attractive bit of hill or wood, or Jack 
 threw aside his professional dignity long enough 
 to leap over a fence, and peer into the depths of 
 the little brook which tumbled and raced along 
 by the roadside. They had passed the watering- 
 trough, which they had no difficulty in recognizing 
 from the yellow hens wandering aimlessly about 
 it, and they were just entering the little patch of 
 woodland, when Jack caught the sound of a dis- 
 tant jingle of bells. 
 
 " Say, Dan," he exclaimed ; " here comes a 
 baker's cart ; see if 'tisn't. If it is, I'm going to 
 get something to eat, for I can't stand it much 
 longer. We'll have time to eat it, before we get 
 through these woods." 
 
 " Good scheme," said Danforth approvingly. 
 "What'llweget?"
 
 254 MARGARET DAVIS, TUTOR. 
 
 "Doughnuts," responded Jack promptly; "those 
 great round, sugary ones that Bob says are so 
 swinicky. She'll never let us have any, and I 
 think they're fine. Now's our chance." 
 
 A few moments later, they continued their 
 journey, each with one of the despised delicacies 
 in his hand, while Jack carried a paper bag con- 
 taining the rest of the half-dozen. There was 
 something so irresponsible, so unexpected in their 
 position, it was such fun to wander along, talking 
 of a hundred things and munching their dough- 
 nuts, that the boys determined to prolong their 
 enjoyment as much as possible. They were 
 still far from the end of the woods, when they 
 were startled to hear a violent crashing of the 
 underbrush. The next minute, a young man 
 leaped over the fence into the road before them, 
 and paused, as if waiting for the boys to join 
 him. 
 
 " Does Mr. Smithson live near here ? " Jack 
 asked, by way of opening the conversation, for 
 the young man evidently expected them to speak. 
 
 " Yes," he answered, with a sudden smile ; 
 "he lives about a quarter of a mile from here. 
 Were you going up there ? " 
 
 " We started for there," said Jack, nudging
 
 "Thank you, I'm as hungry as a wolf." 
 Page i.",ti.
 
 BROTHER JENKINS. 255 
 
 Danforth to call his brother's attention to his 
 politic reply. " We were stopping here in town 
 for a few hours, and so we thought we'd walk 
 out this way." 
 
 " I'm going that way, myself," said the stranger 
 quietly ; " and I can show you where he lives. 
 Do you know him ? " 
 
 " No ; but we know his books," said Danforth, 
 in a sudden burst of enthusiasm which roused him 
 from his wonted quiet. 
 
 " His books ? " The stranger looked a little 
 puzzled. 
 
 " Yes ; he's an author, you know, and wrote 
 Breeze of the Prairie" explained Jack kindly. 
 " It's a splendid book, too, the best I almost ever 
 read." 
 
 "I've heard of that," the stranger said, with a 
 slight air of embarrassment which Jack attributed 
 to the fact of his never having read the great 
 author's great book ; " but I supposed at least, 
 I've heard that he hadn't ever written anything 
 else." 
 
 " Then he'd better," returned Jack indignantly. 
 "A man who can write stories like that, ought 
 to keep at it the whole time. You read it when 
 you get a chance. But, I say, won't you have a
 
 256 MARGARET DAVIS, TUTOR. 
 
 doughnut?" And he hospitably extended the 
 bag. 
 
 The stranger accepted his offer gratefully. 
 
 " Thank you," he said ; " Fin as hungry as a 
 wolf, for I've been out ever since breakfast, and 
 it must be nearly noon." 
 
 As they walked on, from time to time Jack 
 glanced slyly up at his new companion. He 
 was a tall, slight young man, not more than 
 twenty-five or twenty-six at the utmost, with 
 light hair, great blue eyes and a complexion as 
 fresh and rosy as that of a girl. In spite of his 
 shabby brown suit and the great tin box which 
 he wore slung over his shoulder, he was unmis- 
 takably a gentleman. There was something very 
 attractive, too, in his easy, off-hand manner, and 
 he soon had both the boys talking with him, as 
 if they were the oldest and best of friends. 
 
 "This is Mr. Smithson's house," he said at 
 length, pausing at the gate which opened upon 
 a broad, rolling lawn. 
 
 " This ? " And Jack gazed with reverent eyes 
 upon the scene before him. Then he looked up 
 at the young man, who was turning in at the 
 gate. " And are you his gardener ? " he asked, 
 with a new respect in his tone.
 
 BROTHER JENKINS. 257 
 
 The stranger smiled a little. 
 
 " No ; not exactly," he answered ; " but I live 
 here on the place. Is there anything more I can 
 do for you ? " 
 
 Before Jack could beg the stranger to gain him 
 the coveted privilege of interviewing the author, 
 a man, working on the lawn, had come up to the 
 spot where they were standing. 
 
 " If you please, Mr. Smithson " he was begin- 
 ning; but Jack heard nothing more. He could 
 only stare at the stranger, with amazement writ- 
 ten on every line of his face. At length he asked 
 slowly, 
 
 " Are you the real Mr. Smithson ? " 
 
 " I'm afraid I am," confessed the stranger, smil- 
 ing at the boy's surprise. 
 
 " The one that wrote Breeze of the Prairie ? " 
 
 " The very one." 
 
 Alas for Jack ! During the past few days, he 
 had often fancied himself brought face to face 
 with his idol, had fondly pictured the ease with 
 which he would open the interview, the graceful 
 words he would say. Now that the expected mo- 
 ment had come in such an unexpected fashion, he 
 could only stare blankly at Mr. Smithson for a 
 seemingly endless interval, and then ejaculate 
 slowly,
 
 258 MARGARET DAVIS, TUTOR. 
 
 " Great Scott ! And I offered you a doughnut, 
 and you you took it ! " 
 
 The young man laughed. 
 
 " I hope you don't grudge me the best lunch 
 I've had, in many a long day," he said gayly. 
 " I'll own that I -played you rather a shabby trick ; 
 but at first I never dreamed that you Avanted to 
 see me, or knew anything about me. Still, 'twas 
 very good to find that at least two boys like my 
 story, and wish that I would try again. Now 
 come up to the house, and tell me what you 
 wanted of me." 
 
 " We wanted to interview you," explained Jack, 
 with an uncomfortable feeling that he was not ap- 
 proaching the subject as easily as he had expected 
 to do. 
 
 Mr. Smithson looked as if he did not quite un- 
 derstand. He was used to reporters and their 
 ways ; but even the dreaded word interview did 
 not lead him to connect these attractive boys with 
 that much-hated race. 
 
 " To what ? " he inquired. 
 
 " To interview you. We're reporters, you 
 know," said Jack, producing his card on which 
 he had written, " Editor of The Riverton Junior 
 Review"
 
 BROTH Eli JENKINS. 259 
 
 There was a sudden, almost imperceptible tif- 
 fening of the author's manner. Then, as he glanced 
 at the card in his hand, he smiled again in his old 
 pleasant' way. 
 
 " And so you are Mr. John Bennett Spaulding," 
 he said ; " and editor of The Riverton Junior Re- 
 view. I don't think I know the paper. What is 
 it, a weekly?" 
 
 "It isn't, yet," responded Jack honestly, 
 although he shrank from the admission, fearing 
 that it might be disadvantageous to the coming 
 interview. " It's going to begin next Saturday, 
 and come once a week. We wanted to have an 
 interview with you, to start off with. This is my 
 brother Dan," he added, turning to Dan forth, who 
 stood gazing at Mr. Smithson, in an unconscious 
 attitude of admiration and fear. 
 
 " And you were going to serve me up on your 
 camera plate; were you?" asked Mr. Smithson, 
 as he gave his hand to the boy. "Now," he went 
 on, while he led the way to the piazza and settled 
 his guests in some large rocking-chairs in a sunny 
 corner ; " sit down here and tell me all about this. 
 It's an immense joke, whatever it is ; and I want 
 to hear about it." 
 
 And Jack told him, entering with boyish enthu-
 
 260 MAKGAKET DAVIS, TUTOR. 
 
 siasm into the details of his press, his prospective 
 paper and his plan of interviewing their genial 
 host; while Mr. Smithson leaned back in his chair, 
 and laughed till the tears came into his eyes, with 
 his enjoyment of the caper. 
 
 " Suppose we make a bargain," he said at last. 
 " I've never yet been interviewed, and I've always 
 said that I never would be. What if we leave it 
 this way : you stay here to lunch with my mother 
 and me ; and, before you go, I'll write just a little 
 scrap of something for your first paper, on condi- 
 tion that you won't say anything about me, ex- 
 cept to say that you came here to lunch with me," 
 he added, seeing Jack's sudden look of disappoint- 
 ment. " But don't say anything else, please. 
 Only," he laughed again, "you must count me as 
 one of your regular subscribers. But come in and 
 see my mother." And he led the way into the 
 house. 
 
 A week later, the opening number of The River- 
 ton Junior Review made its appearance. Its first 
 page bore, in the place of honor, a rhymed greet- 
 ing to the new periodical, signed with the well- 
 known name. Beneath it was a short note, 
 informing the public that the little poem was 
 written by Mr. Smithson, the last time that the
 
 BROTHER JENKINS. 261 
 
 editors had the pleasure of taking lunch with him, 
 in his own house. A marked copy of The Review 
 went flying down to Chester, by the earliest pos- 
 sible mail, and appeared to Mr. Smithson just as 
 he was leaving the breakfast-table, for a long 
 morning in his library. 
 
 " Jove ! " he said, with a laugh, as he read 
 Jack's letter which accompanied it. " That boy 
 has the go-ahead in him, and he'll make something, 
 some day. 'Twas almost too bad to put him on 
 his honor about showing me up ; and it would 
 have been good fun to see what he'd say. I 
 believe I'll turn the tables, and write him up, 
 only I could never do him justice. I wish I could 
 be sure that all my public liked my first attempt 
 as well as he did." And he whistled gayly to 
 himself, as he sat down and took up his pen.
 
 CHAPTER XIV. 
 DANFORTH'S ROMANCE. 
 
 " WILL you be good enough to tell me what 
 you're up to, Dan ? " asked Bobbie's voice at the 
 kitchen door. 
 
 Danforth started violently, nearly dropping the 
 flatiron from his hand, while the color rushed to 
 his face. 
 
 " I'm busy," he answered curtly. " I wish 
 you'd go away." 
 
 Bobbie pushed the door wide open and came 
 in. 
 
 "What in the world ?" she began slowly. 
 
 "Can't you see for yourself?" he responded 
 impatiently. " The crease is all out of my trous- 
 ers, and I'm trying to put it back in again. 
 Nothing strange in that ; is there ? " 
 
 Bobbie gave one comprehensive glance at the 
 
 garment on the table, at the fast-cooling iron in 
 
 Danforth's hand and at the dark red flush on 
 
 Danforth's cheeks. Then she burst out laughing 
 
 262
 
 DAKFORTH'S ROMANCE. 2G3 
 
 and ran away out of the room. Five minutes 
 later, she knocked at Margaret's door. 
 
 "Oh, Miss Davis, Miss Davis! "she exclaimed, 
 as soon as she was admitted. " What do you 
 think? Dan's caught it at last." 
 
 " Caught it ! " echoed Margaret, while there 
 rushed into her mind direful visions of scarlet- 
 fever or small-pox. 
 
 " Yes, I know now. He's in love ! " And 
 Bobbie dropped into a chair and nodded conclu- 
 sivel}'. 
 
 " What nonsense, Bobbie ! Dan is nothing but 
 a child." 
 
 " I don't care," responded Bobbie coolly. " I 
 know what I know, and you'll think so too, 
 when I tell you. He's in love, and it's with 
 Pen." 
 
 " Bobbie dear, I'd rather you didn't talk" about 
 such things," said Margaret quite decidedly. 
 " Dan and Penelope are good friends, just as you 
 and Ellie are ; but people don't get in love at 
 fifteen, and you know that Dan forth would be 
 very angry, if he heard what you are saying." 
 
 " I can't help that," persisted Bobbie. " It's 
 true, every word of it, as true as true can be. 
 Now you see here, I've kept still ever so long,
 
 264 MARGARET DAVIS, TUTOR. 
 
 and now I must talk. You'd rather I'd say it to 
 you than to Dan. What's the harm? I think 
 it's just lovely, only I like to plague them about 
 it a little." 
 
 Margaret made no reply, so, after a short pause, 
 Bobbie went on, 
 
 " It's been going on for ever so long. That 
 Christmas fire 'started it up, I suppose. I didn't 
 think much about it, at first. I knew Dan was 
 there ever so much ; but I s'posed it was so he 
 could take Pen's picture. Then Dan began to 
 act queer, and I kept my eyes open. He used 
 to wear his best suit every day ; and wouldn't 
 ever put on his cap, but wore his hat the whole 
 time. When Grandma sent him on an errand, 
 he always went round by High Street, no matter 
 how much of a hurry he was in. Then his hair 
 began to look dark and sort of shiny; and, one 
 day. I found my bottle of violet hidden in his 
 bureau drawer. Now, to-day, I've just found him 
 all alone in the kitchen, trying to iron some new 
 creases into his trouser legs." And Bobbie paused 
 to laugh again at the recollection. " Well, all 
 this showed something was going on ; but I 
 wasn't just sure, till a day or two ago. You 
 know that pretty bracelet Pen had Christmas,
 
 DANFOETH'S ROMANCE. 265 
 
 the dark silver one ? All at once she stopped 
 wearing it; and when I asked her where 'twas, 
 she just blushed and wouldn't say a word. Night 
 before last, when Dan was frolicking with me, I 
 looked up his sleeve, and there was Pen's bracelet, 
 way up inside his cuff. Now what do you think?" 
 she concluded triumphantly. 
 
 " Think ? I think that you are an excellent 
 detective," said Margaret lightly, although she 
 was secretly amused by Bobbie's ferreting out the 
 mystery which she had long since suspected. 
 
 " And then there's something else," added 
 Bobbie, with a fresh laugh. " This time it's Pen. 
 Five or six of us walked down the river, a week 
 or two ago, you know. I didn't see much of 
 either Dan or Pen, for I was ahead, with Jack 
 and Charlie Prentiss ; but, coming home, Pen 
 came rushing after me and caught hold of my 
 arm. Her face was as red as could be, and she 
 looked all swelled up, ready to cry; but 'twas 
 ever so long before she'd say anything. By and 
 by she began in a queer voice, as if the words 
 were a good deal larger round than her throat, 
 ' Bobbie,' no, I remember ; she said ' Roberta.' 
 She never calls me Roberta, unless something is 
 very much wrong. Well, she said, ' Roberta, I
 
 266 MARGARET DAVIS, TUTOR. 
 
 want to ask you something.' Then she stopped 
 and puffed, like this." Bobbie illustrated Penel- 
 ope's agitation, with unsympathetic amusement. 
 " Then she went ahead, ' I want to ask you some- 
 thing a friend of mine wanted to know; 'tisn't 
 for me, you know, but for this friend. If a lady 
 insults a gentleman, ought she to apologize, or 
 ought she to wait and make him ? ' Wasn't that 
 the gi^atest idea? I told her that her friend 
 ought to be ashamed of herself for not having 
 any more sense. Then she flared up, and said 
 I was mean as mean could be. I didn't know 
 what she meant then ; but Dan came home sulky 
 as anything, and blue as your gown, and Ellie 
 said they'd been having a perfectly dreadful 
 fight." Bobbie's tone was darkly suggestive of 
 dirks and cutlasses. " They must have made it 
 up in a hurry, though, for Dan was there the 
 next day. But wasn't he glum, that night! I 
 believe I'll go and see if he's finished his ironing." 
 And she went away as abruptly as she had come. 
 
 Much to her regret, Margaret was forced to 
 agree with Bobbie's conclusions, though she 
 smiled to herself, as she thought of the premises 
 upon which they were based. For the past two 
 or three months, in fact, ever since Christmas,
 
 DANFORTH S ROMANCE. 2G7 
 
 she had been surprised to see Danforth's increas- 
 ing devotion to Penelope ; and she had been the 
 more astonished at it, because heretofore Danforth, 
 partly from shyness, partly from indifference, 
 had always treated Bobbie's girl friends with 
 supreme contempt. Moreover, Pen was not at 
 all* the girl whom it seemed likely that Danforth 
 would fancy, her irrepressible words and ways 
 were so contrary to his own quiet gentleness. 
 
 At first, Margaret had -rejoiced in the new 
 friendship, for she found that it was giving Dan- 
 forth an ease and assurance which he had always 
 lacked, while his overflowing spirits testified to his 
 own enjoyment of the unwonted interest. How- 
 ever, she discovered that, little by little, his les- 
 sons were beginning to suffer from his absorption 
 in Penelope ; and, as week after week went by, 
 he slowly dropped behind Jack who was working 
 finely, spurred on by the approach of June and 
 the long-talked-of preliminaries. 
 
 It was hard to know just where lay the real 
 trouble and its remedy. Danforth worked his full 
 time; but it was in a listless, half-hearted fashion, 
 quite different from his previous enthusiasm, and 
 he took all of Margaret's little lectures and rebukes 
 with a most exemplary meekness. Still, she was at
 
 268 MARGARET DAVIS, TUTOR. 
 
 her wit's end, for she disliked to appeal to Uncle 
 Jerry, knowing but too well that such a course 
 could only lessen Danforth's liking for her, and 
 her consequent influence over him. Exhortation 
 and command had no effect, beyond the moment 
 of their being uttered ; and, meanwhile, Danforth 
 was steadily dropping backward. What was*to 
 be done? 
 
 Moreover, she had noticed the new desire to 
 beautify himself, of which Bobbie had spoken. 
 In an older man, she would not have been slow 
 to attribute it to its proper cause ; but it seemed 
 impossible that Danforth, her shy, shrinking boy, 
 could be already emerging from his chrysalis and 
 entering upon one of the phases of the full-grown 
 butterfly. She dismissed the thought as absurd, 
 and yet it was true, painfully true. Even Bobbie 
 had recognized the fact. 
 
 For the next week or two, Margaret watched 
 the boy closely. Except for the increasing neg- 
 lect of his lessons, it seemed to her that he had 
 never before been half so lovable, for in addition 
 to the old, gentle, winning ways which she knew 
 so well, there was a new brightness and fun that 
 she had never seen until now. Pen was evi- 
 dently stirring him up ; but unfortunately she
 
 DANFOETH'S ROMANCE. 269 
 
 was, at the same time, ruining his chances for 
 passing a creditable examination, and Margaret 
 felt that it was time for her to interfere. Accord- 
 ingly, one noon after Jack and Bobbie had left 
 the library, she told Danforth that, for the present, 
 she should give him an hour of work, each after- 
 noon. The boy faced her abruptly, with a little 
 hurt look in his blue eyes. 
 
 " What's the matter, Miss Davis ! " he asked 
 quickly. " Won't my work go as 'tis ? " 
 
 " Not quite, Dan," she answered. " You've 
 been running behind a little, and I want to go 
 over some of this last work, to make sure that 
 you're all right. You can't afford to run any 
 risks ; and we can both take the time well enough. 
 A few weeks will straighten you out again." 
 
 For a moment, Danforth looked at her doubt- 
 fully ; then he said reluctantly, 
 
 " All right ; only I don't think I need the extra 
 time. I'm getting on well enough, as 'tis ; and 
 I can work a little harder, mornings, if you want." 
 
 " I think the afternoons will be better, Dan," 
 she answered, in a tone of quiet decision which 
 she rarely used. 
 
 And so it came about that Margaret and 
 Danforth took possession of the library, for an
 
 270 MAKGAHET DAVIS, TUTOIl. 
 
 hour each afternoon, and devoted the time to a 
 thorough review of the work of the past few 
 weeks. It was the best training that the boy 
 could have had ; but he failed to accept it in all 
 gratitude, since it shortened his afternoon calls 
 on Penelope, and kept him at work when his 
 friends were all taking their recreation. It was 
 particularly hard, in the warm, tempting days 
 of early spring when the others were all off on 
 some ride or walk ; and as the days went by, 
 Danforth's face grew longer and longer, and his 
 hours grew shorter and shorter. But if it was 
 hard for the boy, it was harder still for Margaret, 
 since she saw so plainly all his side of the matter, 
 all the causes which had tempted him to neglect 
 his work. At length, one day just before Easter, 
 came the final issue. Margaret had gone to her 
 room, directly after lunch, when she heard Dan- 
 forth's step in the hall. A moment later, he 
 knocked at her door. 
 
 " Come in, Dan," she said hospitably, as she 
 opened the door. 
 
 " I can't ; I'm in a hurry," he answered ner- 
 vously. "I I came to see if you wouldn't let 
 me off this afternoon." 
 
 "But I told you I couldn't, Dan," she said,
 
 DANFOETH'S ROMANCE. 271 
 
 trying to speak quietly, though she saw, from the 
 set look of Danforth's lips, that at last she was to 
 engage in a contest of will with her favorite 
 pupil. "You know you asked me yesterday, 
 and I told you then that you would have to take 
 your regular work." 
 
 There was a long silence. Margaret was the 
 first to break it. 
 
 " What is it that you want to do ? " she asked. 
 
 " I wanted to take Pen Stoddard for a drive," 
 he answered desperately, while his color rose 
 at the admission. " Uncle Jerry is going to sell 
 Duke, this spring, and I may not have another 
 chance. He's likely to go, any day." 
 
 " Have you made an engagement with Penel- 
 ope ? " inquired Margaret slowly. " I thought 
 you knew that you were to have your usual hour." 
 
 "'Tisn't a real engagement," Danforth replied. 
 " I only wanted to go." 
 
 There was another prolonged silence. This 
 time Danforth spoke first. 
 
 "What if I don't come?" he asked. 
 
 Margaret hesitated. She disliked to give in ; 
 and any appeal to Uncle Jerry to uphold her 
 authority, would be childish, she felt. She could 
 read the boy well enough to see that he was fully
 
 272 MARGARET DAVIS, TUTOR. 
 
 determined to go ; but that he could not be quite 
 satisfied to do so without her consent. She looked 
 out at the clear, yellow sunshine, and her heart 
 urged her to relent; then she remembered that 
 this was not a question of to-day or to-morrow 
 but of Danforth's whole future ability to deny 
 himself, if need be, and she hardened her heart. 
 
 " You are not a baby, Dan," she said slowly, as 
 she looked straight into his great blue eyes ; 
 "and you know, as well as I do, that I have no 
 real authority over you. You know, too, how I 
 feel about this. You must do as you think best, 
 only remember that I absolutely disapprove of 
 your going." 
 
 The pause which followed was a critical one. 
 Each was conscious of the tension of the other's 
 mood, and each, while secretly resolving not to 
 yield, yet felt uncertain how the contest would 
 end. Danforth had set his face as rigidly as 
 he. could, but his chin was quivering a little. 
 Unwilling as he was to give in, it was hurting 
 him more than he had supposed it would, to 
 oppose Margaret's wishes and incur her dis- 
 approval. As she watched him, Margaret felt a 
 nervous desire to laugh and cry at the same time, 
 to laugh at the mock seriousness of this tempest
 
 DANFORTH'S ROMANCE. 273 
 
 in a teapot, to cry with a childish disappointment 
 in her lack of influence over the boy. It seemed 
 as if he would never speak. At length he asked 
 a little impatiently, 
 
 " What difference does this one day make, Miss 
 Davis ? There are plenty more coming." 
 
 " It isn't just for to-day," she answered gently ; 
 "only, if you give up, to-day, and run off when 
 you ought to be working, it will be just so much 
 harder to begin again to-morrow. You are, making 
 up now for time when you have been doing half- 
 work ; and you know I told you that I must have 
 this afternoon hour, so that I can get you back 
 even with Jack, before I go home at Easter. If 
 you give up to-day, and another to-day, and still 
 another, it will surely end in your losing your 
 year. I have told you just what I think ; now I 
 can only leave it to your sense of right." 
 
 Still the shut teeth, but the quivering chin, as 
 Danforth looked at the floor, at the walls, at the 
 folds of Margaret's gown, everywhere but at her 
 face which, in spite of the anxious light in her 
 eyes, never once lost its friendly smile. Then, all 
 of a sudden, he looked her full in the face, as he 
 said unsteadily, 
 
 "I think I'll risk it."
 
 274 MARGARET DAVIS, TUTOR. 
 
 " Very well," she replied, although with a surety 
 that it was not very well, that the battle was lost 
 for both sides. 
 
 She stood on the threshold, watching the boy as 
 he went down the stairs. There was nothing about 
 him to suggest the victor ; he was much more like 
 the vanquished, for complete and utter dejection 
 was written on every line of his face and figure. 
 His conscience was not active enough to make 
 him yield a point ; but it was sufficiently active to 
 render him extremely uncomfortable, now that his 
 point was gained. 
 
 Danforth was unusually silent and grave when 
 he appeared at the dinner-table, that night, 
 although Margaret's manner to him was quite as 
 if nothing unusual had occurred ; and, for the first 
 time, he failed to join the others in the library, 
 later, when they were reveling in the Van Bibber 
 sketches. Jack was reading, that night ; but 
 Margaret heard little of the charming stories, for 
 her thoughts were with her other boy, wondering 
 whether to keep up her unconcerned manner, or 
 to say a word or two, and then dismiss the affair 
 into the past. She knew Danforth well enough 
 to see that already he was feeling ashamed of 
 himself. It would doubtless be good discipline
 
 DANFORTH'S ROMANCE. 275 
 
 for him to let him suffer the pangs of remorse for 
 a little longer. But, on the other hand, she dis- 
 liked to do anything to hurt the sensitive boy; 
 and she was unwilling to allow their warm friend- 
 ship to be scarred by a longer coldness between 
 them. After all, perhaps the victory was on her 
 side ; she felt that she could afford to be magnani- 
 mous. 
 
 She saw little of Danforth during the evening. 
 When she and Jack went back into the drawing- 
 room, Danforth had gone up into the Wilderness ; 
 and although he reappeared later, he took up a 
 book and apparently buried himself in its pages, 
 though she was conscious that he was watching 
 her out of the corners of his eyes, while she played 
 bdzique with Jack. Earlier than usual he started 
 up, book in hand, bade them all goodnight and left 
 the room. Half-way up the stairs, he heard 
 Margaret speak his name. 
 
 " Well ? " he said reluctantly, as he turned to 
 face her. 
 
 She slowly went up to him, and sat down on 
 the stair below him. 
 
 " Come, Dan," she said ; " don't go off to bed 
 just yet. It isn't time ; and besides, I want to 
 make up, first."
 
 276 MARGARET DAVIS, TUTOR. 
 
 This was unexpected, and Danforth's face 
 showed his surprise. Then he controlled him- 
 self, and dropped back into his old indifferent 
 manner. At heart, he longed to respond to her 
 friendly advances ; but the very intensity of his 
 feeling made it hard to speak out. His face only 
 grew more and more grim, as he asked briefly, 
 
 "Make up what?" 
 
 " I think you know what I mean," she answered 
 gently. " You were vexed because I wouldn't 
 let you off this afternoon ; isn't it so ? You 
 haven't been like yourself, ever since you came 
 home ; and you were running off to bed, to get 
 out of sight of me. Come, Dan," and she held 
 out her hand ; " we've been too good friends to 
 quarrel, and the longer this goes on, the harder 
 it will be to end it ; so let's shake hands on it, 
 say there's been a mistake somewhere, and then 
 forget all about it and begin again." 
 
 Her look and manner were not to be resisted, 
 and Danforth's coldness suddenly melted, as he 
 dropped down on the stairs at her side, and seized 
 her hand in a grip which nearly forced a cry from 
 her lips. 
 
 " I was mad, Miss Davis, for I wanted to go 
 like fun ; and I'd promised Pen I'd take her. I
 
 DANFORTH'S ROMANCE. 277 
 
 thought then that you hadn't any business to 
 keep me in, and I wasn't going to knock under; 
 but," he hesitated ; then he added, in a lower 
 tone, " but I about came to the conclusion, while 
 I was gone, that I hadn't any business to go. I 
 am sorry, truly ; and another time, you can count 
 on me." 
 
 It is always hard for a boy to acknowledge him- 
 self in the wrong, and Margaret realized all that 
 this avowal was costing Danforth. The stairway, 
 where they sat, was too dark to allow her to see 
 his face clearly ; but his voice and the little hesi- 
 tation in his manner told of the difficulty he was 
 having in confessing his small sin. Margaret 
 found it hard to add one word of rebuke, for this 
 short contest had taught her how dear the boy 
 was to her. 
 
 " Dan," she said slowly, as she rested one hand 
 on his shoulder ; " I did what I thought was best 
 for you, and the doing it hurt me more than it 
 did you, for I knew just how you wanted to go. 
 But lessons have to come first, dear, whether it's 
 before we go into college, or after we come out, 
 and I felt that I'd no right to let you shirk, 
 to-day, when it might make a difference to your 
 whole life. You've been falling from grace a
 
 278 MARGARET DAVIS, TUTOR. 
 
 little, the last month or two, and we've both of 
 us had to work to make it up. Now we're nearly 
 ready to start fair and square again, and I mustn't 
 be disappointed in you. 'You haven't much idea, 
 Dan, how many hopes and plans for your man- 
 hood I am making. If you'll do your part, they 
 can all be carried out, and my dear old Dan will 
 be a man of whom I shall be proud, some day. 
 Now let's turn our backs on the past, and on 
 to-day's horrid little disagreement, and look at 
 the future and work toward it, like true men 
 and women, sure that every day of real, faithful 
 work will bring the goal nearer and still nearer 
 us." 
 
 Through the dim light, she could see Danforth's 
 eyes fixed upon her face, and his own face was 
 very serious and gentle, as he said, 
 
 "I will try, Miss Davis. I know I've been 
 acting like a jay; but honestly, you won't have 
 any more trouble of that kind. Give me another 
 chance, and I'll start fresh." 
 
 "What are you doing, mooning there on the 
 stairs ? " called Jack from below. " I thought 
 you'd gone to bed an hour ago, Dan. Come 
 ahead ; I'm sleepy." 
 
 Two days later, Bobbie came into Margaret's
 
 DANFORTH'S ROMANCE. 279 
 
 room, with excitement and mystery written on 
 every feature. 
 
 " They've had another dreadful quarrel," she 
 announced, without further preface. "It was 
 day before yesterday, when Dan was taking her 
 to ride I don't know what's happened; but 
 Dan's given back her bracelet, and Pen says 
 she doesn't mean to speak to him again, forever 
 and ever, because he's a stupid and a Miss Nancy. 
 I told her that Dan was a great deal too good for 
 her, and if she didn't speak to him, I wouldn't 
 speak to her, so there ! But what do you think 
 could have happened? Seems to me I can't stand 
 it, unless I find out. Pen Stoddard knows what 
 I think of her, though ; and that's one comfort ! "
 
 CHAPTER XV. 
 
 "FACILIS DESCENSUS AVERNI." 
 
 HUGH THORNTON sat musing by the fire in his 
 room, one evening early in April. A gentle 
 shower was pattering down on the piazza roof 
 outside his window, and the monotonous, dreary 
 sound made a most suitable background for his 
 thoughts, since his mood was as gloomy as the 
 night outside. That afternoon, he had chanced 
 to meet Margaret on the street, and she had given 
 him a bow so chilling that, as soon as she had 
 passed him, he had involuntarily turned up his 
 collar and plunged his hands deep down into 
 his pockets. Now, for an hour, he had been sit- 
 ting with his book closed on his knee, while he 
 viciously gnawed his mustache and scowled at the 
 open fire. He was fond of that fire, too. In fact, 
 it had been one of the chief reasons for his choos- 
 ing the room, but to-night it seemed uncommonly 
 fractious. It persisted in smoking at intervals, 
 while, in spite of his efforts, the sticks on the 
 280
 
 "FACILIS DESCENSUS AVEENI." 281 
 
 andirons refused to lie cris-crossing at the proper 
 angle, but packed themselves into a firm, solid 
 pile which was death to a cheery blaze. He had 
 promised to dine with his cousin, Mrs. Pierson, 
 that night ; but when dinner-time came, he had 
 not found himself in a mood to be an agreeable 
 guest, so he had sent a messenger boy with a 
 note of apology for his non-appearance, and dined 
 alone instead. It was the first time, for nearly a 
 year, that he had allowed himself to stop and 
 think just how miserable he was ; and now that 
 he was deliberately giving himself up to the con- 
 templation of his woes, he began to think that 
 he had never before half realized how great they 
 were. 
 
 "It's a beastly place to put me in," he was say- 
 ing to himself. " Here I am, likely to meet her 
 any minute ; there's no chance of missing her, 
 in this two-inch hole of a town. 'Twasn't enough 
 for her to flirt with me and then drop me ; but 
 she had to come up here after me. No ; come to 
 think of it, she was in ahead of me, and I followed 
 her." And he laughed at his own inconsistency. 
 "But \vhy, in the name of all the laws of chance, 
 did we ever happen to strike Riverton at the 
 same time? I should as soon have thought of
 
 282 MAKGAEET DAVIS, TUTOR. 
 
 finding her in Patagonia, as over at Atherton's, 
 that night. I wonder what sent her up here, 
 anyway. However, that something I'm not likely 
 to find out. If she were a man, I could ask her, 
 point blank, what she meant by treating me like 
 a worn-out pair of shoes ; but you can't do that 
 kind of thing with a woman. If I dared " 
 He rose and walked up and down the room, still 
 venting his impatience upon his long-suffering 
 mustache. At length he stopped abruptly, as he 
 said aloud, "By Jove, I'll do it, and take the 
 consequences." 
 
 The next day was one of the most perfect days 
 of early spring, and Gerald came home to lunch, 
 declaring that it was a disgrace to anyone to stay 
 in the house, in such weather as that, they must 
 all go for a long drive together. As invariably 
 happened, Gerald's will carried all obstacles before 
 it, and shortly after two o'clock, the great, three- 
 seated carriage was driven up to the door. Grand- 
 pa and Grandma Atherton were snugly packed 
 away on the back seat, Margaret and Danforth 
 took the middle and Bobbie settled herself in her 
 usual place at her uncle's side. Then there came 
 a sudden inquiry for Jack ; but Jack, strange to 
 say, was nowhere to be found.
 
 "FACILIS DESCENSUS AVERNI. S 283 
 
 " We can't wait any longer," said Uncle Jerry, 
 after they had searched and called in vain. " He 
 knew we were going ; and if he isn't here, that's 
 his look-out." And gathering up the reins, he 
 drove down the hill, out into the road and then 
 northward, up the valley. 
 
 Quarter of an hour later, Jack cautiously 
 emerged from the hay-loft of the barn whither, 
 for reasons of his own, he had retired directly 
 after lunch. It had not suited Jack's convenience 
 to go to drive, that afternoon, although he was 
 perfectly contented to have the others go and 
 leave him alone, for he had important business 
 on hand, and he had no wish to be interrupted. 
 Two days before this, Bobbie had run off with 
 his silver penholder, and refused to give it up 
 until he promised to get one like it for her. 
 To-day, Jack had resolved to take justice into his 
 own hands by rummaging among her possessions 
 until he found it. Then, if there were any time 
 left, he promised himself the pleasure of rearrang- 
 ing her bureau drawers for her, a favorite employ- 
 ment of his, whenever Bobbie had been particularly 
 exasperating. 
 
 It had cost him something to give up the drive, 
 that day, to watch the others starting off without
 
 284 MARGARET DAVIS, TUTOR. 
 
 him and to know that, if he chose, he could have 
 a place on the front seat and, perhaps, drive the 
 span, after their spirits had quieted down a little. 
 Still, justice was justice and must triumph, so he 
 resolutely refused to answer their calls; but, as 
 soon as they were well out of sight, he had 
 climbed down from the fragrant loft and marched 
 toward the house, to wreak vengeance upon Bobbie. 
 To his extreme surprise, he found the back door 
 closed and locked. Unknown to him, Grandma 
 Atherton had given both the maids permission to 
 go out for the afternoon ; and the old house was 
 quite deserted, except for Jack who wandered up 
 and down, as anxious to enter as any prowling 
 thief, and as powerless. In vain he tried the front 
 door, the side door, the hall window. Then he 
 came around to the back door again and shook it. 
 The clatter of the old-fashioned latch startled him 
 with its noise ; but his efforts produced no other 
 effect. He backed off to a little distance and 
 looked up at the windows. Bobbie's was left 
 temptingly open, as if to mock him. If he could 
 only get up there ! But he might as well wish to 
 call on the Man in the Moon, while he was about 
 it ; a pair of wings would be necessary 7 in either 
 case.
 
 "FACILIS DESCENSUS AVERNI." 285 
 
 Once more he prowled around the house, trying 
 all the windows within reach from the ground. 
 They were all made fast on the inside, as Jack had x 
 supposed, for Grandpa Atherton's hobby was a 
 continual fear of burglars, and he had enough 
 bolts and bars on his house to enable it to with- 
 stand an ordinary siege. Finding his efforts of 
 no avail, Jack came around to the front of the 
 house again, and threw himself down on the broad 
 porch at the door, to rest at his ease while he 
 planned what to do with himself, all the long 
 afternoon. If he had only gone with the others ! 
 But there was no use in his wishing for an impos- 
 sibility. The mischief was done, and he must 
 make the best of it. Still, it was provoking to 
 miss both the drive and the chance to revenge 
 himself upon Bobbie. He wondered what he 
 would better do next. 
 
 He was still glancing meditatively about and 
 revolving various plans in his fertile brain, when 
 he chanced to catch sight of a low, narrow window 
 opening into the cellar, and a sudden brilliant idea 
 came into his head. The window was very small, 
 the sash only held two square panes of glass and 
 was swung on a hinge ; and he saw from the crack 
 at one side that through some carelessness it had
 
 286 MARGARET DAVIS, TUTOR. 
 
 been left unfastened. He chuckled to himself as 
 he thought of his grandfather's horror, if he could 
 see it. Just below the window, he remembered, 
 stood Grandma Atherton's shelves of preserves ; 
 and, by careful management, anyone who should 
 succeed in crawling in through the window, could 
 use those shelves as a ladder by which to descend 
 to the floor. Once on the cellar bottom, his course 
 was clear. Ten feet from the window, the stairs 
 led up into the kitchen, and from there it was easy 
 enough to reach Bobbie's room, find his pen, make 
 hay of her possessions and then retire by way of 
 the front door. Jack hesitated no longer. He 
 pulled off his coat, threw it on the floor of the 
 porch and, approaching the little window, he 
 pushed it wide open. 
 
 The hole was a tight fit for a boy of fifteen, and 
 Jack surveyed it rather dubiously. Then he put 
 in his head and looked about him. The sudden 
 change from the bright sunshine to the dim light 
 of the cellar made it impossible for him to distin- 
 guish anything below him; but he took it for 
 granted that everything was in its usual place. 
 Accordingly, he drew out his head, turned around 
 and prepared to wiggle in, feet first. Half-way 
 through the window, he stuck fast, and for a few
 
 "FACILIS DESCENSUS AVERNI." 287 
 
 moments it seemed more than probable that he 
 would have to spend his afternoon in that undigni- 
 fied position. However, after he had writhed and 
 kicked and pushed until his courage and strength 
 were both becoming exhausted, he at length suc- 
 ceeded in forcing his way through the opening 
 and hung by his hands, while he swung his feet 
 this way and that, in search of the shelves which 
 were nowhere to be found. 
 
 The old cellar was ten feet deep, and Jack 
 realized with an uncomfortable keenness .that it 
 would be no pleasant experience to drop from the 
 little window at the top, down on the hard earth 
 floor beneath. It was impossible to pull himself 
 up again, and work his way out through the 
 window once more ; so he could only cling to the 
 sash, while there flashed through his mind grew- 
 some tales of broken ribs and sprained ankles 
 and similar uncomfortable experiences. At length 
 his wrists could bear the strain no longer ; he felt 
 his hold weakening, and he fell with a thud down 
 upon a great pile of wood ashes which had been 
 placed there, only the day before. 
 
 Beyond the blow to his feelings, and the cloud 
 of ashes which filled his eyes and mouth, Jack 
 was not hurt in the least. He lay still for a
 
 288 MARGARET DAVIS, TUTOR. 
 
 moment, to collect his scattered ideas ; then he 
 rose and brushed himself off, while there came 
 into his mind a vague memory of having heard 
 Uncle Jerry tell the man to save all the ashes 
 from the wood fires, that winter, since they were 
 so good to scatter over the lawn, in the spring. 
 However, he was unable to discover what had 
 become of the shelves which ordinarily stood 
 there, until, glancing across into a dark corner 
 near the stairway, he saw the familiar gleam of 
 the well-filled glass jars. 
 
 Once on his feet again, he realized that there 
 was no time to be wasted, especially since to his 
 former program was now added the necessity of 
 removing all traces of the ashes from his person ; 
 and this, he felt convinced, would be no short 
 and easy task. According, he marched across 
 the cellar, ran up the stairs to the kitchen door 
 and pressed the latch, only to find that all his 
 trials were to no purpose. With unusual care 
 and foresight, the maids had bolted the door 
 before they left the house. At this overwhelm- 
 ing discovery, Jack's feelings overcame him, and 
 he gave vent to a prolonged whistle. 
 
 "Treed like Davy Crockett's coon, by Jove ! "' 
 he said to himself. " Here is a mess ! I must
 
 "FACILIS DESCENSUS AVEIINI." 289 
 
 get out, or I'll never hear the last of it from 
 Bob. She's never forgiven me for having to 
 fish her out of the pot-hole, last fall, and she'll 
 just fatten on this." And quitting the stairs, 
 Jack returned to the ash-heap, where he de- 
 jectedly sat down to ponder upon his situation. 
 
 It was not an encouraging prospect before him. 
 The cellar was dark and damp; the afternoon 
 would be a long and tedious one, for he had no 
 possible occupation ; and, most of all, he had the 
 certainty of being well laughed at, when the 
 others came home and discovered him in his 
 absurd plight. He was perfectly well aware that 
 he deserved being laughed at, that he would have 
 laughed at Danforth or Bobbie in the same pre- 
 dicament ; but that made it no easier for him to 
 bear their ridicule. And yet, sitting there in the 
 ashes, he laughed at himself, laughed till the 
 tears came into his dark eyes, so keenly did he 
 realize the comicality of his position. No; it 
 would never do to be discovered there. He must 
 get out, in some way or other. 
 
 He started up again and began to explore the 
 cellar, in the hope of discovering, in some dark 
 corner, a ladder or else some boxes which he 
 could pile up under the window, and so climb
 
 290 MA11GAUET DAVIS, TUTOll. 
 
 out into the light of day. Nothing of the kind 
 was to be found; the cellar was barren of all 
 such waste lumber, and swept and garnished as 
 was all of Grandma Atherton's domain. For one 
 short moment, Jack even meditated taking all 
 the glass jars from the shelves, and moving the 
 shelves across to the window. Then he dismissed 
 that hope. It would be a long piece of work, and 
 he would be unable to come back again to replace 
 the jars, so their changed position would inevita- 
 bly lead to discovery. If he must take the ridi- 
 cule in any case, he would not put himself to all 
 that trouble as well. He returned to his ash-heap 
 and waited. 
 
 The afternoon passed very slowly. In the in- 
 tervals of thinking of the others and picturing 
 their enjoyment of their drive, he had plenty of 
 time to meditate upon his past, his present and 
 his future. He went back to India, even, and to 
 the memory of one long day of solitary confine- 
 ment he had undergone, where his ayah had re- 
 morselessly told tales of his misdeeds to his mother. 
 Bobbie had been in the same scrape, too, and he 
 remembered that he had gained some comfort 
 from the knowledge that she was just as badly 
 off as he was, that he was not alone in his
 
 "FACILIS DESCENSUS AVE11NI." 291 
 
 suffering. But to-day Bobbie was triumphantly 
 riding off at Uncle Jerry's side, and he was sit- 
 ting there alone in the dark, gloomy cellar. He 
 thought of the Prisoner of Chillon and the Man 
 in the Iron Mask, and reflected that never before 
 had he felt half enough sympathy for them. The 
 Princes in the tower didn't count, for there were 
 two of them, and they could keep each other 
 company. 
 
 He had apparently been sitting there for hours, 
 when he heard a step approaching the house, and 
 he held his breath to listen. If it were only one 
 of the servants, all would yet be well, for Jack 
 had a generous allowance and he had already tested 
 the effect of small bribes in covering the manifes- 
 tations of his sins. But the person, whoever it 
 was, evidently was not a servant, for the steps 
 went directly toward the front door. Should he 
 throw himself upon the mercy of a guest? Jack 
 hesitated. If it were a woman, she would be 
 powerless to help him out; moreover, she would 
 be much more likely to tell tales of him. All in 
 all, though, he thought he would take his chances, 
 so he called as loudly as he could, 
 " Who's there ? I want some help." 
 There was a short silence, while the caller
 
 292 MAKGAllET DAVIS, TUTOE. 
 
 evidently looked about to discover the source of 
 this unexpected salutation. Then, to Jack's in- 
 finite relief, the answer came back in an unmis- 
 takably masculine tone, 
 
 " Where are you ? " 
 
 " Down cellar. Come and help me out." 
 
 After his experiences of the afternoon, to Jack's 
 mind there was but one way of approach to the 
 cellar. Apparently the stranger did not possess 
 the key to the mystery, however, for there fol- 
 lowed another pause of uncertainty. 
 
 "How shall I get there?" he called, at length. 
 
 There was something so absurd in this inter- 
 view, carried on at the tops of their lungs, al- 
 though in reality they were but a few feet apart, 
 that Jack had to stop and laugh, before he an- 
 swered, 
 
 " Through that window by the front door, the 
 little, low window. But don't you come here ; I 
 want you to get me out, not come in, yourself." 
 
 A moment later, Jack saw the window suddenly 
 darkened. Looking up, he discovered the face of 
 Mr. Thornton staring down at him with unfeigned 
 amazement. 
 
 " If I might inquire " he was beginning, as 
 he gazed down upon this nineteenth-century Job,
 
 "FACILTS DESCENSUS AVERNI." 293 
 
 still seated in the ashes, when Jack interrupted 
 him, 
 
 "Don't inquire. Help me out, Mr. Thornton, 
 and do your inquiring later. You get me out of 
 this, and then I'll tell you all about it." 
 
 "But is Miss Davis at home?" Mr. Thornton 
 asked a little nervously. 
 
 " No ; there isn't anybody at home. That's the 
 reason I'm here," replied Jack petulantly. " Can't 
 yon get me out?" 
 
 " I'm not sure how to manage it," said Mr. 
 Thornton, who was apparently dazed by this 
 unexpected call upon his mercy and his inventive- 
 ness. " Why don't you go up those stairs and 
 around through the house ? " he suggested feebly, 
 after a prolonged contemplation of the scene of 
 action. 
 
 " Oh, come off there ! " said Jack irreverently. 
 " Don't you suppose I'd have done that hours ago, 
 if I could? I'm locked out and I tried to get 
 into the house this way ; don't you see ? That 
 door at the head of the stairs is fastened, and I 
 can't get back out of the window. I don't know 
 when the others will be home, and, naturally, I 
 want to get out of this -place before the crack of 
 doom."
 
 294 MARGARET DAVIS, TUTOR. 
 
 " Oh, I think I am beginning to understand," 
 said Mr. Thornton, upon whom a new light had 
 dawned. " You're caught in here, and you want 
 to get out before the others come home to laugh 
 at you; is that it?" 
 
 " Now you've struck it," said Jack approvingly. 
 " Next thing is, how are you going to strike me ? " 
 
 " Isn't there a ladder around here anywhere ? " 
 inquired Mr. Thornton, looking about him. 
 
 " Two little ones in the barn, left hand side as 
 you go in," replied Jack concisely. 
 
 "Wait till I get them." And the head vanished. 
 
 It was gone for a long time. At last there came 
 a sound of bumping and scraping, and then Mr. 
 Thornton's voice called, 
 
 " All right ? Keep out of the way till I let this 
 down." And the end of a ladder came slowly in 
 at the open window. 
 
 It was but the work of a moment more to let 
 down the ladder and to arrange it in position. 
 Then Jack slowly crawled forth to the light of day, 
 and drew the ladder out after him. But such a 
 Jack! Coated with ashes from head to heel, he 
 came out as gray as the proverbial miller, for the 
 dust had powdered his hair, begrimed his face and 
 changed the complexion of his clothing until it
 
 "FACILIS DESCENSUS AVERNI." 295 
 
 might easily have been mistaken for penitential 
 sackcloth. The boy looked down at himself, then 
 at Mr. Thornton who was dressed with more than 
 usual care, and he burst out laughing so heartily 
 and infectiously that his companion joined him. 
 
 " I really must be going," Mr. Thornton said, 
 a little later, after Jack had told him the full story 
 of his woes. "Please say to Miss Davis that I 
 called, and that I am extremely sorry she is away. 
 You'll not forget?" he added anxiously. 
 
 " Trust me ! " returned Jack. " You don't know 
 how grateful to you I am, Mr. Thornton. You've 
 helped me out of a bad scrape to-day, and maj^be 
 sometime I can do the same for you. I hope so, 
 anyway." And as the guest went away down the 
 hill, Jack departed to the barn, to find the horse- 
 brush and the carriage-sponge, and remove as much 
 as possible of the ashes from his clothing and skin, 
 that he might be able to get to his room unob- 
 served, as soon as the house was opened again.
 
 CHAPTER XVI. 
 
 DUKE AND DANFORTH. 
 
 " ANYTHING you'd like before I go, Grandma ? " 
 asked Danforth, coming into the dining-room 
 where Grandma Atherton and Margaret sat linger- 
 ing over their lunch, long after the others had left 
 the table. 
 
 "Nothing, I think," she answered, looking up 
 at the boy who stood, cap in hand, in the doorway. 
 
 u Where are you bound, my dear ? " inquired 
 Margaret, rising and crossing the room to his side. 
 
 " Off for a ride ; that's all," he replied, smiling 
 down at her, for in the year he had completely 
 outgrown his tutor, and took great pride in looking 
 over the top of her head. "I wish you felt like 
 coming, too." 
 
 " I wish I could," she answered fervently. " You 
 know I'd like nothing better than a scamper with 
 you ; but I played, all yesterday afternoon, and 
 to-day I must write to mother, or she'll think I 
 have forsaken her. Take good care of yourself, 
 296
 
 DUKE AND DANFORTH. 297 
 
 little boy." And she patted his arm in the 
 motherly fashion which Dan forth liked so well. 
 
 " Trust me to look out for number one," he said, 
 laughing, as he came forward to the table and 
 helped himself to a handful of crackers. " If you 
 won't come with me, come out and see me mount, 
 at least. Remember your first experience in that 
 line?" 
 
 "Saucy boy!" said Margaret, laughing at the 
 recollection. "I've redeemed my reputation, so you 
 ought to be generous and forget my early sins. 
 Wait till I get some sugar for Duke, and then I'll 
 come and see you off." 
 
 " I do wish Jerry would sell that pony," said 
 Grandma Atherton uneasily. " I don't think he's 
 safe for you to ride, Dan." 
 
 "You don't need to worry, Grandma," he 
 answered carelessly. "Duke is cross sometimes; 
 but he knows I'm his master, and he has to come 
 to terms." 
 
 Duke certainly was cross, that day. His eyes 
 showed an angry gleam, as he came out of the 
 stable, and he pawed the ground restlessly, while 
 Danforth was buckling the saddle girths, even the 
 sugar he accepted haughtily, as if he were in no 
 mind to be bribed into a good humor. The next
 
 298 MARGARET DAVIS, TUTOR. 
 
 moment, Danforth leaped lightly into the saddle 
 and grasped the reins, as Duke reared and kicked 
 in a way to send a less experienced rider to the 
 ground. But Danforth kept his seat easily enough, 
 and with a quick touch of the whip, a quick turn 
 of the curb-rein, he brought Duke to the ground 
 again, and sent him bounding forward at a gallop. 
 Then he turned in .his seat, and waved his cap to 
 Margaret. For one instant, she saw the bright, 
 boyish face, the sparkling blue eyes and the smooth 
 yellow hair uncovered in the sunshine ; then the 
 horse and rider vanished under the brow of the 
 hill. 
 
 For some reason, Margaret's letter progressed 
 slowly, that afternoon. Perhaps the warm, clear 
 day made her long to be out with Danforth ; 
 perhaps she was in that melancholy condition, 
 common to us all at times, of having nothing to 
 say. However the case might have been, she 
 found herself, pen in hand, dreaming over her 
 paper, as she sat by the front window of her room. 
 Grandma Atherton was taking her afternoon nap, 
 down-stairs, and Jack and Bobbie were out, so the 
 old house was very quiet. What a dear old house 
 it was, and what good times she had enjoyed in it ! 
 At Easter, it had been arranged with her mother
 
 DUKE AND DANFORTH. 299 
 
 that she was to come back for one more year, to 
 finish preparing the boys for college. They had 
 all rebelled at the idea of her leaving them in 
 June, and Mrs. Davis had given her consent to 
 Margaret's return, moved partly by Gerald's urgent 
 letters, partly by her daughter's evident happiness 
 in her work. The boys were doing splendidly, too, 
 so that she could take genuine satisfaction in the 
 results of her teaching. 
 
 Since Danforth's little romance had ended, and 
 he had returned to common sense and the plain 
 prose of living once more, he had worked with a 
 will, anxious to efface the memory of his recent 
 failure. What a dear child he was! As Margaret 
 looked back over the year, she could see how, ail- 
 unconsciously, her thoughts had centered in him ; 
 and she recalled the many good times they had en- 
 joyed together, walking, riding, or talking lazily by 
 the library fire. He was always so companionable 
 and interesting, always the gentleman in look and 
 word and act. She acknowledged to herself to-day, 
 that he was the real cause of her wanting to come 
 back for another year, that she was unwilling to 
 leave him to another tutor, whom she would dislike, 
 if he failed to win the boy's liking ; of whom she 
 would be mortally jealous, if he quite took her 
 place.
 
 300 MARGARET DAVIS, 1DTOR. 
 
 However, this was not writing her letter; so 
 she resolutely dipped her pen into the ink, wrote 
 three lines and stopped again, while she sat with 
 her eyes dreamily fixed on a tree far down the 
 valley. Should she tell her mother that Hugh 
 had called, the day before ? As yet, she had never 
 mentioned him in her letters ; there was really 
 nothing to tell. Now that he had called, she felt 
 even less inclined to write of him, for she could 
 form no idea of his motive in coming to see her. 
 Her heart had throbbed with a sudden hope when 
 Jack had given his message, the afternoon before ; 
 and she had lain awake most of the night, trying 
 to imagine his reasons for calling upon her, after 
 all these months when he had been so near her and 
 made no sign. Probably it was a mere formal call, 
 such as he would make upon any acquaintance ; 
 and he had made it to avoid any comments, now 
 that he had admitted to Gerald that he used to 
 know her at home. If that was his real reason for 
 coming, she was rather glad, after all, that she had 
 been away at the time. 
 
 So absorbed was she in her musings, that she 
 did not notice a closed carriage which turned into 
 the drive and came slowly up the hill, while the 
 driver carefully held in his horses, to keep them
 
 DUKE AND DANFORTH. 301 
 
 from breaking into a trot. Her first sight of it 
 was not until it was stopping, just below her 
 window ; and, rising, she ran quickly down-stairs, 
 to go to the door, for the maids were busy and 
 Grandma Atherton was asleep. As she passed the 
 hall window, she saw something inside the car- 
 riage which made her throw the door wide open 
 and rush out across the porch, just as the driver 
 sprang down from his seat and came toward the 
 step. 
 
 "What is it?" she asked breathlessly. "Is 
 something the matter?" 
 
 To her surprise, the carriage door opened quickly, 
 and Hugh Thornton's face looked out at her. 
 Her woman's eye told her at a glance that he was 
 very grave, and involuntarily she looked beyond 
 him, toward the figure which had caught her eye 
 from the window, while he said, with an accent of 
 relief, 
 
 " Miss Davis, I am so glad that you chanced to 
 see us first. I had been hoping it might be so. 
 There has been a little accident " 
 
 "Is it Dan?" she interrupted impatiently. 
 " Tell me, quick ! Is he badly hurt ? " 
 
 The pause showed her unspoken thought, and 
 Hugh hastened to reassure her. He had hoped
 
 302 MAKGAKET DAVIS, TUTOH. 
 
 to see her first, since she would doubtless bo the 
 one least shocked by his errand ; but her sudden 
 pallor and her ill-repressed excitement told him 
 his mistake, told him, too, that in the presence of 
 this great sorrow, she had lost all thought of him 
 and of their past. 
 
 " It is Dan," he answered, trying to speak 
 lightly. " His pony threw him ; but I don't think 
 he's seriously hurt, at least, I hope not. He hasn't 
 really come to himself yet; but I brought him 
 right home. Can I carry him in now, or do you 
 want to prepare his grandmother first ? " 
 
 " She is asleep and won't hear you," said Mar- 
 garet, forcing herself to speak quietly, though she 
 could scarcely stand, and the lawn and the river 
 and the valley were dancing before her eyes. 
 " You'd better come now." 
 
 For a moment, he thought she was going to 
 fall, and, springing out, he caught her. At his 
 touch, she rallied. 
 
 " Don't think of me," she said, with a wan little 
 smile. " I can go through it all. Come." 
 
 "Better take him right to his room," said Mr. 
 Thornton, as he went back to the carriage door. 
 " That will save moving him later, and I think I 
 can carry him easily."
 
 DUKE AND DANFOJBTH. 303 
 
 Margaret nodded slightly ; then, not trusting 
 herself to speak or to look back at Hugh's burden, 
 she led the way up-stairs into the boys' room, and 
 paused beside the bed until he joined her there, 
 and gently laid Danforth down among the pillows. 
 For a moment, Margaret looked down at the still, 
 white face and the closed eyes ; then, bending for- 
 ward, she smoothed the disarranged hair and, for 
 one instant, laid her cheek against the boy's fore- 
 head, in a mute caress, while the tears came fast. 
 Then she turned to her companion, with a pite- 
 ously appealing look. 
 
 u Tell me, Hugh," she begged ; " I can't seem to 
 think or to know anything. It's as if everything 
 had all stopped. What ought I to do ? " 
 
 As he met her eyes, Mr. Thornton's face grew 
 radiant with a new hope ; but this was no time 
 for pleading his own cause, neither would he take 
 an unfair advantage of her excitement. She had 
 spoken as if the past fourteen months were all 
 a blank. For the present, that was enough for 
 him, and he would meet her upon her own ground ; 
 and yet, no power on earth could keep him from 
 using the little old home name, as he answered 
 gently, 
 
 " Poor little Peggy ! It is hard for you all. I
 
 304 MARGARET DAVIS, TUTOR. 
 
 never dreamed that you cared so much for your 
 boy, or I would have prepared you more. But 
 now I will stay with him while you go down 
 and tell Mrs. Atherton; then I'll drive over, as 
 fast as I can, and bring back a doctor. Truly, it 
 may not be so bad as you think." 
 
 " Oh, my Dan ! How can I bear it ! " And in 
 spite of her efforts at calmness, the tears rolled 
 down her cheeks ; but she rubbed them away, and 
 left the room. 
 
 An hour later, she was roused by a knock at 
 Danforth's door. Opening it, she found Maggie, 
 who whispered softly, 
 
 " Mr. Thornton wanted me to say he's waiting 
 here, Miss ; and can he do anything more ? " 
 
 " Tell him I'll come." 
 
 As Hugh rose to meet her, he wondered at her 
 perfect quiet. She was using all her self-control 
 to keep back her tears, and to meet him as she 
 would have done another man, in his place. 
 
 " Forgive me for disturbing you," he said peni- 
 tently ; " but I couldn't bear to go away without 
 knowing what the doctor has said." 
 
 " He said so little, so dreadfully little," she 
 answered, dropping into a chair. " Dan has come 
 to himself, at last, and the doctor says he hopes it
 
 DUKE AND DANFOKTH. 305 
 
 will be nothing serious ; but he can't tell until he 
 makes another examination to-morrow. In the 
 meantime, Dan is to be kept very quiet, not even 
 allowed to see Jack and Bobbie. I am to be chief 
 nurse, I believe, for he asked for me at first, and is 
 restless if I leave him." 
 
 " Don't let me keep you." And Mr. Thornton- 
 rose, as if to go. 
 
 " Please stay a little longer," she said slowly. 
 " I haven't said yet how thankful we are for all 
 you have done. I can't seem to find the words I 
 am trying to say ; but you know. And I must 
 hear how it all happened." 
 
 " It was the fault of that pony he rides. He's 
 a vicious little fellow, and too much for anybody, 
 though Dan has managed him splendidly. They 
 were coming up through the other end of River- 
 ton, when the pony was frightened at one of the 
 cars by the power-house. He shied, and then he 
 ran. Dan stuck to him like a burr, and I thought 
 he'd conquer the beast ; but the pony swung 
 round a corner so suddenly that he threw Dan off 
 against the curbstone. He struck on his back and 
 head" 
 
 " Oh, don't ! " The words came like a cry of 
 pain, as Margaret's head fell forward on her hands.
 
 306 MARGARET DAVIS, TUTOR. 
 
 " What is it ? " Hugh asked anxiously. 
 
 " That's what the doctor was afraid of. I know 
 now, and it may be worse than we feared." 
 
 " You don't mean his spine ? " 
 
 Margaret gave a slight sign of assent. 
 
 " Anything but that ! " And Hugh's face grew 
 even more grave, at the thought. 
 
 " That is what he meant ; I'm sure of it. It 
 can't be, to have it come all in a minute, when 
 nobody was there to help him." 
 
 "It may not be so, after all. I wish I could 
 comfort you ; but only Dan can do that. Go 
 back to him, please ; I am selfish to keep you." 
 
 She rose and took his hand. 
 
 "Thank you so much," she said huskily, "for 
 all you've done for us to-day. You have been so 
 good." 
 
 He looked steadily down into the sad, white 
 face below him, as he stood holding her trembling 
 hand in his two firm, muscular ones. 
 
 " May I come again," he asked, in a low voice ; 
 "come again when Danforth is better, and you 
 can spare a little time from him? " 
 
 There was a hush, only broken by the tick- 
 ing of the old clock across the hall. Then 
 Margaret raised her eyes to meet his.
 
 DUKE AND DANFOKTH. 307 
 
 " Yes," she said simply ; " you may come 
 again." 
 
 When she went back up-stairs, it seemed as if 
 years had passed since she had left Danforth, only 
 a few moments before. Grandma Atherton and 
 Gerald were still sitting by the bed, looking so 
 sad, although they forced themselves to smile when- 
 ever the boy opened his eyes. Only a little while 
 before, she had shared their hopeless mood ; now 
 she felt a new, involuntary hope springing up 
 within her. Life was so good to her, so kind, in 
 spite of all her fears. It had brought back to her 
 what she had most desired, and it could not be that 
 she must lose her Dan, just at the very moment 
 when she had regained so much. He must live 
 and get well, she told herself over and over again. 
 No matter what the future brought her, it would 
 only be an imperfect gift, if Danforth were to be 
 taken from them. If he lived, her life looked full 
 of promise ; without him, even the joy of finding 
 Hugh lost half its delight. But if only to-morrow 
 would come, and the doctor give them his final 
 verdict! This suspense was worse than all the 
 rest. 
 
 As she came into the room, Gerald rose from 
 his place at the head of the bed.
 
 308 MARGARET DAVIS, TUTOR. 
 
 "Danforth has been asking for you," he said, 
 in a low voice, as he looked wonderingly up into 
 her face which, in spitQ of all its gravity, was 
 lighted with a new, sweet joy that he had never 
 seen there before. " He says you know best how 
 to make him comfortable." 
 
 She went quickly forward to the bed and bent 
 over the boy. who opened his eyes and smiled 
 faintly up into her face. 
 
 "Don't go off again," he murmured. "You 
 know just how." 
 
 She laid her hand caressingly against his cheek. 
 
 " I won't leave you, Dan," she promised. " As 
 long as you want me, I'll stay here with you." 
 
 Late that night, they were alone together. 
 Jack had been sent into his uncle's room to sleep, 
 and Margaret had begged Grandma Atherton and 
 Gerald to go away for a little rest. There was 
 nothing to be done but to wait until morning 
 should decide the future ; Danforth was content 
 to have her with him, and she was stronger than 
 they, to bear the strain of the long night. At 
 length, they had reluctantly gone away and left 
 her alone with the boy. The darkness of the 
 room was only broken by the faint glow of the 
 fire and the one shaft of light which came stream-
 
 DUKE AND DANFORTH. 309 
 
 ing in from the lamp in the hall. Margaret sat 
 in a low chair by the bedside, with her head rest- 
 ing against the end of the pillow and her fingers 
 lying lightly upon Danforth's hand, while her 
 brain throbbed with the day's excitement. 
 
 One after another, a series of pictures seemed 
 starting out of the darkness before her: Dan- 
 forth, cap in hand, riding away in all his boyish 
 strength; Danforth, limp and unconscious, being 
 brought up the stairs, in Hugh's strong arms ; 
 Danforth, as she had seen him in the twilight, 
 lying there so white and still, while the grave 
 face of the old doctor bent above him, seeking to 
 know the full extent of his injuries. Her passing 
 hour of courage had fled again, and into the 
 future she dared not look. Hugh's account of 
 the accident had sent a quick fear into her mind, 
 the sickening thought that death, even, might 
 not be the worst thing which could come to her 
 boy. Any injury to the spine might mean that 
 the time would come when the} r would all wish 
 that Danforth had never roused from his stupor. 
 Involuntarily her hand closed upon his, as if to 
 shield him from such a fate. Danforth stirred a 
 little. 
 
 "What is it, dear?" she asked.
 
 310 MARGARET DAVIS, TUTOR. 
 
 " My back hurts me a good deal," he answered 
 wearily ; " and I can't seem to get comfortable." 
 
 " Perhaps I can make it easier," she said. " Let 
 me try. So ; isn't that better ? " 
 
 Seating herself on the side of the bed, she 
 placed one arm under the pillow and drew it 
 gently toward her, until Danforth's head and 
 shoulders rested against her side. 
 
 " That's fine," he said gratefully. " What time 
 is it?" 
 
 " Only eleven," she answered. 
 
 " Eleven ; why don't you go to bed ? " he asked 
 wonderingly. " I don't want you to stay here, 
 just for me." 
 
 " I'm not sleepy, at all," Margaret replied gently. 
 " I am going to stay with you, to-night, in case you 
 want anything. Now, can't you go to sleep?" 
 
 " I wish I could, for I can't lie still, and it hurts 
 me to move." 
 
 " Poor old Dan ! " And Margaret drew her 
 hand slowly across the boy's forehead and cheek. 
 
 " That feels good," he murmured ; " go on, if it 
 doesn't tire you." 
 
 She kept up the motion, with a slow, even touch 
 which told no tale of her unstrung nerves. It was 
 all she could do for the boy who, all-unconscious,
 
 DUKE AND DANFORTH. 311 
 
 was lying between life and, perhaps, something 
 worse than death. Instinctively her arm grew 
 tighter about him, and her touch on his cheek be- 
 came more and more gentle. 
 
 " Sing something," he said, in a whisper. 
 
 Without a moment's hesitation, she began to 
 sing a little cradle song which she had often sung, 
 two years ago. Hugh had been so fond of it, in 
 the old times, and it had never crossed her lips 
 since the day she had last seen him. Now, all- 
 unsought, it came into her mind, and she sang it, 
 softly and low. 
 
 " ' Slumber, and dream of the fast-coming years, 
 Which are unfolding before thee ; 
 Dream thou of those whom love endears, 
 Who now so fondly watch o'er thee.'" 
 
 Hugh's face seemed to be looking down upon 
 her, out of the darkness. She could see it again, 
 just as it had been, that afternoon, with a whole 
 unspoken story in its brown eyes, and a little 
 glad note of exultation thrilled in her voice, as 
 she went on, 
 
 " ' Gathering storms may not fail to o'ertake thee ; 
 Only a true love will never forsake thee. 
 Bide but a little longer I 
 Bide thou '"
 
 312 MARGARET DAVIS, TUTOR. 
 
 Danforth's breath was coming with a deep, 
 gentle regularity, and she could feel the relaxation 
 of his whole figure, as he yielded to her soothing 
 touch and voice. If he could only rest to-night, 
 to be ready to bear what the new day had in 
 store for him ! 
 
 " ' Slumber, and dream of the splendor of spring ; 
 Joy to o'erflowing is given. 
 Hark ! how the birds so tenderly sing, 
 Love reigns on earth, as in heaven.'" 
 
 Again the new note of happiness in her low 
 voice. Down-stairs in the library, Gerald stopped 
 his restless pacing of the floor, and held his breath 
 to listen. The words were speaking to him more 
 eloquently than the singer was aware ; and it was 
 as well, perhaps, that Margaret could not see him, 
 as he stood on the threshold, resting his head 
 against the portiere, while she went dreamily on to 
 the end of the song. 
 
 " ' Seasons pass o'er thee, but thou art not heeding; 
 Thy time of promise toward thee is speeding. 
 Bide but a little longer! 
 Bide thou, bide but a little longer I 
 Slumber ! ' " 
 
 Her voice slowly sank away into silence, and 
 the old clock took up its monotonous refrain.
 
 DUKE AND DANFORTH. 313 
 
 Down-stairs, the man had fallen into a chair and 
 covered his face with his hands, as if to shut 
 out the sight and sound of temptation ; above, 
 in the dark, quiet room, Danforth had fallen 
 asleep.
 
 CHAPTER XVII. 
 
 THE REPEATED MESSAGE. 
 
 "Miss DAVIS?" 
 
 " Yes, Dan." And Margaret rose from her 
 place by the window, and crossed the room to 
 the bed. 
 
 "I wish you'd tell me something, tell me 
 honestly." 
 
 " What is it, dear ? " she asked, with a little 
 feeling of dread of the coming question, for the 
 boyish face before her, while it looked very young 
 and childishly delicate, yet had a strange expres- 
 sion of anxious determination. 
 
 " I want to know just what the doctor said 
 about me, last time he came. Am I going to get 
 well?" 
 
 " Oh, yes," she answered, trying to force herself 
 to speak lightly. 
 
 " Perfectly well? " he asked slowly, as he looked 
 searchingly up into her face. 
 
 314
 
 THE REPEATED MESSAGE. 315 
 
 For an instant Margaret hesitated ; then she said 
 gently, 
 
 " I hope so, Dan." 
 
 For his only answer, the boy drew the sheet up 
 over his face for a moment, and lay very still. 
 Then he asked steadily, 
 
 " What are the chances ? " 
 
 Margaret sat down on the side of the bed and 
 took his hand in hers. 
 
 " We can't tell yet, Dan. Duke gave you a 
 bad fall, that day; and it may be a good while 
 before you are quite your old self again. Still, 
 that's only a maybe, and the doctor said you 
 might come out of it all right, in a little while." 
 
 "And if I don't?" 
 
 " We won't look at that if, Dan," she said 
 cheerfully. " The other is what we're going to 
 hold on to, and we'll try to forget this." 
 
 "What's the use?" he asked quickly. "I'd 
 rather be told all about it now, Miss Davis, for I 
 know something's wrong, or grandma wouldn't 
 look at me the way she does. I've been in bed 
 more than a week, now, and I'm able to hear how 
 I'm coming out. Please tell me. If you don't, 
 I shall think it's ever so much worse than it 
 really is."
 
 316 MARGARET DAVIS, TUTOR. 
 
 It was a hard moment for Margaret, and she 
 longed to run away from the boy's gaze and from 
 his questions. Then she nerved herself to the 
 sternest of all duties, that of speaking the truth. 
 
 " Dan," she began slowly ; " I wish you hadn't 
 asked me, for we none of us know just what to 
 tell you. It will be a few days longer before the 
 doctor can know how soon you will get over this. 
 You may be all right in a very few weeks ; it may 
 keep you here some months, perhaps a year. But 
 we'll all of us hope that it won't be so long, for we 
 must have our Dan his old self again. It is very 
 lonely without you, down-stairs." 
 
 As she paused, Danforth's grasp on her fingers 
 tightened nervously, and he looked straight up 
 into her face, saying, in a low, breathless tone, 
 
 " That isn't all, I know. No matter what hap- 
 pens, will I be able to walk again, some day ? " 
 
 Before Margaret could speak, he had read the 
 answer in her eyes, and, withdrawing his hand 
 from hers, he covered his face and was silent. 
 The sight of his suffering was more than she could 
 bear, and she laid her hand on his again, as she 
 said pityingly, 
 
 " Don't feel so badly, Dan. It's only a chance, 
 one little chance, and you will probably be as well
 
 THE REPEATED MESSAGE. 317 
 
 as ever. The doctor doesn't feel at all sure, so we 
 must hope all we can." 
 
 Danforth uncovered his face and looked up at 
 her again. A sudden outburst of noisy grief 
 would have been much less unnatural, much easier 
 to meet than his perfect quiet, and the hopeless 
 look in his dark blue eyes. 
 
 "Don't mind so much, Miss Davis," he said 
 drearily, as a hot tear splashed down on his hand. 
 " We'll get used to it in time, and then it won't 
 seem so bad. You'll have to stay round here a 
 little longer, though, for I can't get on without 
 you." 
 
 There was a short silence, while Margaret 
 struggled to regain her self-control. All at once, 
 Danforth asked, 
 
 "Where's Duke?" 
 
 " He hurt himself, the day he ran," Margaret 
 answered reluctantly ; " and he had to be put to 
 sleep." 
 
 Danforth had borne the rest in silence ; but 
 when he heard of the loss of his old friend and 
 companion, his courage gave way, and he sud- 
 denly began to cry, with a grief all the more 
 intense for his previous calmness. Margaret still 
 sat by his side, stroking his hair and speaking a
 
 318 MARGARET DAVIS, TUTOR. 
 
 few words of comfort, now and then ; but she felt 
 that it was of little use. Danforth was fighting 
 out his battle alone, and she was powerless to 
 help him. At length he quieted himself again, 
 and turned to her gratefully. 
 
 " You were good to tell me," he said. " I'd 
 rather you did it than anybody else, for you've 
 been my friend through thick and thin, and you 
 used to go out with me, so you know how fond I 
 was of Duke, and of riding, and all the rest. 
 I'll be good now, and won't be a baby again ; 
 but you won't go off and leave us just yet, 
 will you ? " 
 
 Late that same afternoon, Mr. Huntington was 
 sitting beside the bed. Several times since the 
 accident, he had called to inquire for Danforth, 
 and to-day the boy had insisted upon seeing him 
 for a few moments, although as yet no one but 
 the family had been allowed to go into his room. 
 Margaret had led the way up-stairs, and stood 
 leaning on the foot of the bed, watching the 
 young man as he bent down to speak to Danforth, 
 with a quiet cheeriness very different from the 
 lugubrious bedside manner assumed by too many 
 members of his profession. All his usual shyness 
 had vanished, and he shared a quick perception of
 
 THE REPEATED MESSAGE. 319 
 
 the right word to say which made Margaret feel 
 quite at ease, as she went away and left them 
 together. 
 
 After their first greeting, there was a short 
 pause as Mr. Huntington sat down by the bed 
 and looked at the face on the pillow before him, 
 the same face he had known so well, only it 
 seemed to him even more young and delicate and 
 refined, while its pallor made the great blue eyes 
 look unnaturally large and dark. 
 
 " And they tell me that you are gaining a little, 
 every day," said the young man cheerfully. 
 
 " Yes ; I'm ever so much better than I was at 
 first, and it's good to see somebody again." 
 
 " I feel immensely honored at being allowed to 
 come up," said Mr. Huntington, with a bright 
 little laugh ; " but it won't be long, I hope, before 
 you're round with us once more." 
 
 "I don't know," answered Danforth, with a 
 sudden gravity. "I'm afraid it may be a good 
 while, and maybe, even then All at once, 
 he asked abruptly, " Mr. Huntington, just sup- 
 pose you had to stop, all of a sudden, just when 
 you were in the middle of everything? Seems as if 
 I shouldn't have minded it so much, a year ago ; 
 but now there are so many things I want to do."
 
 320 MARGAIIET DAVIS, TUTOR. 
 
 Mr. Huntington understood him, without more 
 words. 
 
 "That's the hardest part of it all, Dan," he 
 said quietly. " It takes more courage to drop 
 out of the ranks, and sit down to watch the rest 
 march by, than it does to go forward into the 
 fight. But sometimes we have to step to one 
 side, for a while, and let the others go on without 
 us." 
 
 " If it hadn't been just now," said the boy un- 
 steadily. " Ever since I've been here in America, 
 I've had hard work to keep on my feet. Things 
 went all wrong, somehow, and nobody quite under- 
 stood. Then, last fall, Miss Davis came, and since 
 then everything has seemed so much easier. I 
 don't know just how 'twas; but she gave me a 
 start and helped me to keep on, and I began to 
 think I might amount to something, after all. 
 College was coming, in a little over a year; but 
 now " 
 
 Mr. Huntington took Danforth's hand between 
 his own, and held it firmly. 
 
 " No matter when it comes, Dan, whether early 
 or late, there is always the same feeling that you 
 need a little more time. Our stopping-place never 
 is found until we are ordered to halt and lay down
 
 THE REPEATED MESSAGE. 321 
 
 our arms. Sometimes we have to lay them down 
 
 
 entirely; sometimes we drop them, only to take 
 
 up others, as you may have to do. It's useless to 
 say that, if we're resigned and all that, it doesn't 
 hurt us. The hurt is always there, until we have 
 grown so used to the pain that we can look under 
 it, and see the good which comes with it. But 
 that comes later ; now we can only shut our teeth 
 and try to bear it as well as we can, for courage is 
 one of the first lessons we have to learn." 
 
 " I know ; only it's so hard to begin," said Dan- 
 forth, looking up into the kindly brown eyes above 
 him, which grew suddenly sad, as Mr. Huntington 
 went on, 
 
 " We all of us have to begin, and to begin early, 
 Dan. None of us can go through life just as we 
 would choose ; but one of us has to give up one 
 hope, another another. Sometimes it takes all our 
 pluck to do it, for our plans are the very best 
 parts of our lives, and often it seems as if 'twould 
 be easier to give up life itself. But when the time 
 comes, the courage comes with it, and helps us 
 through even the hardest places. It will come to 
 you, Dan, if you need it ; but I hardly think you 
 will, just yet. From what I can find out about 
 you and about what the doctor has said, I think a
 
 MAKGAKET DAVIS, TUTOR. 
 
 few weeks will see you about as well as ever ; and 
 you may be sure that not one of your friends will 
 be happier then than I." 
 
 Danforth's face had brightened during the last 
 words ; and, as Mr. Huntington paused, the boy 
 looked up with something of his old smile. 
 
 "I'm awfully glad you came up, Mr. Hunting- 
 ton, for you've said just the right thing. I'll try 
 to keep up my pluck, whatever comes ; and maybe 
 'twon't be so bad, after all. At first, it seemed as 
 if I couldn't get out of it; but now I'm not so 
 sure." 
 
 " Here comes Miss Davis, and I must run away," 
 said the young man, rising as Margaret entered 
 the room. " I'm afraid you'll wish Laddie had 
 stolen my sermon again to-day," he went on, with 
 a mischievous glance at Margaret. 
 
 " How unkind of you to suggest it ! " she said, 
 blushing, while Danforth laughed outright. " I 
 carefully shut Laddie up, when I saw you coming 
 up the hill, for fear he would get into fresh mis- 
 chief. I don't know about the sermon ; but you 
 have certainly done my patient good," she added, 
 as she saw the new light in Danforth's eyes. "I 
 think I can safely urge you to come again." 
 x Mr. Huntington's call certainly had done the
 
 THE REPEATED MESSAGE. 323 
 
 boy good, and for the next few days he gained 
 rapidly, while he seemed to have recovered some- 
 thing of his former spirit. Margaret was with 
 him during the greater part of the time, for 
 Grandma Atherton was not strong enough for the 
 long hours of care, and Danforth was more than 
 satisfied to have Margaret in her place. Accord- 
 ingly, lessons were practically suspended, and 
 except for an hour, each morning, Bobbie and 
 Jack were allowed to have a holiday, while their 
 tutor gave all of her time and much of her strength 
 to their brother. 
 
 Little by little, as Danforth' s strength came back 
 to him, his hopefulness came with it ; and, as the 
 days went on, he could talk over the future with 
 Margaret, making bright plans for his restored 
 health, or speaking of the other possibility with a 
 quiet courage which roused in his tutor a new 
 admiration for her boy. The long hours they spent 
 together were not all sad ones ; and as they passed 
 away, each one brought the young woman and the 
 boy into a closer friendship and understanding 
 which nothing could ever destroy or lessen. 
 
 Slowly the days dragged away until, at length, 
 came the time for the examination which should 
 determine Danforth's future life. All that long
 
 324 MA1IGAUET DAVIS, TUTOR. 
 
 morning, Margaret never left him ; but when the 
 doctor came, at noon, she went away and shut 
 herself in her own room, alone. It seemed as if 
 the next half-hour would never end ; then she 
 heard the doctor's step, as he went slowly down 
 the stairs and into the library where Gerald was 
 waiting for him. A little later, she heard the 
 front door shut, and the quick trot of the horse's 
 feet as he hurried away down the hill. Then she 
 went down to the library. Gerald stood opposite 
 the door, and one glance at his face was all she 
 needed. She sank into the nearest chair, and her 
 breath came a little quickly, as she asked, 
 
 " It is really so ? " 
 
 " Yes ; the danger is over, and Dan will be as 
 well as ever in a comparatively short time. You 
 may tell him ; it is your right, for you have been 
 his faithful friend." 
 
 Margaret rose and went over to his side. 
 
 " Thank you," she said impulsively, as she held 
 out her hands to him. " I have meant to be good 
 to our boy, as I promised you ; and I have found 
 it an easy task. Whatever came to-day, you 
 would have found Dan ready to bear it, and I 
 know we should both have been proud of him." 
 
 Gerald stood holding her hands in his, while he
 
 THE REPEATED MESSAGE. 325 
 
 looked up into her radiant, flushed face and her 
 earnest eyes. Then his own eyes drooped and, 
 letting go her hands, he turned and walked away 
 to the fire, saying quietly, 
 
 " Then you will tell' Dan ? " 
 
 The days that followed were a time of perfect 
 happiness to them all. Now that the cloud was 
 lifted, they realized more keenly than ever how 
 dark it had been, and how great was their present 
 joy, in comparison with it. Day after day, the 
 spring came on and ripened into summer; day 
 after day, Danforth gained new strength and new 
 interest in his old life. Then came the sixteenth 
 birthday of the twins. It was a great festival for 
 them all, for Danforth made his first expedition 
 down into the old drawing-room once more, and 
 took his place in the family circle about the fire. 
 He was only a ghost of the former Danforth, as 
 yet, for he had grown thin and pale from his long 
 illness, and he could walk but a few steps at a 
 time, clinging to the arm of Jack or Margaret, 
 while Bobbie followed him about, laden with 
 pillows and foot-rests. Still, now that he had 
 started on the upward journey, his progress would 
 be rapid, and the doctor had promised them that 
 the last of June should find him as strong as he 
 had ever been.
 
 326 MARGARET DAVIS, TUTOR. 
 
 It had been agreed that, as soon as he could 
 bear the journey, he should be taken to the sea- 
 shore for a month, in the hope that the salt air 
 would hasten his recovery. Accordingly, Gerald 
 had engaged rooms in a little cottage, at a summer 
 resort where the hotel.* were not yet opened, and 
 now they were only waiting for the time when 
 Danforth could safely take the long day's ride. 
 
 " I shall ask you to go with him, Miss Davis," 
 Gerald had said to her, one evening after the boys 
 were in bed. " Nobody else will be half so good 
 for Danforth ; and the change won't hurt you, for 
 you have been too devoted to the boy for your 
 own good. Jack will go with you, to run errands 
 and wait on you both, and I shall insist upon it 
 that you and Danforth do nothing more arduous 
 than sit in the sun and make sand pies." 
 
 "But what about Bobbie?" asked Margaret, 
 with a momentary feeling that the present outlook 
 before her was too blissful to be true, and that she 
 must have the drawback of Bobbie's restless pres- 
 ence to make up for the perfect delight of a 
 month of seaside idleness with her two boys. 
 
 " Bobbie would be nothing but a care for you, 
 and I'm afraid she would annoy Dan, so I shall 
 put her back into school, to keep her out of mis-
 
 THE REPEATED MESSAGE. 327 
 
 chief till you get home. You'll be down there till 
 the middle of June ; then you can come back here 
 for two weeks and, if the boys are in good condi- 
 tion, you can freshen them up for their prelimi- 
 naries. But, until you do come back, remember 
 that you are to have no lessons at all." And he 
 shook his head at her warningly. 
 
 During the past three or four weeks, Hugh 
 Thornton had called three times at the Atherton 
 house ; but he had not seen Margaret since the 
 memorable afternoon when he had brought Dan- 
 forth home. At the time of his first call, Danforth 
 had been asleep, and she had given orders that on 
 no condition was she to be disturbed ; and on the 
 other occasions, she had been out driving with 
 Jack, for Gerald and Grandma Atherton insisted 
 upon her going out for an airing, every pleasant 
 day. Still, Hugh was not discouraged. He had 
 learned the truth, and now he could afford to wait. 
 
 Early one evening in May, he was crossing the 
 street near the post office, when he saw Jack run 
 into the building to mail some letters. As the 
 boy came out, Mr. Thornton met him at the steps. 
 
 " How is Danforth ? " the young man asked, 
 although he was secretly longing to hear, first of 
 all, from Dunforth's nurse.
 
 328 MARGARET DAVIS, TUTOR. 
 
 " Better, ever so much better," responded Jack. 
 " We're going down to Pleasant Harbor, to-mor- 
 row morning, and the doctor says that will set 
 him up on his pins again." 
 
 "Who is going?" inquired Mr. Thornton 
 eagerly. " All of you ? " 
 
 " Oh, no ; only Dan and Miss Davis and I. 
 We're going down for a month on Dan's account, 
 and because Miss Davis is pretty much tired out, 
 taking care of him. I'm going along as a body- 
 guard." 
 
 Mr. Thornton bit his lip thoughtfully, for a 
 moment. Then he said, 
 
 " Jack, are you willing to do me a favor, and 
 say nothing about it? " 
 
 Jack looked up with a laugh. 
 
 " You'd, better believe I will! Didn't you fish 
 me out of the cellar and not give it away? One 
 good turn, you know; so come on. I'm your 
 man, and I never tell tales." 
 
 Mi 1 . Thornton looked down into the dark, hand- 
 some young face before him. 
 
 " I'll trust you," he said simply. " It's A matter 
 of a good deal of importance, Jack ; and I am 
 throwing myself upon your honor as a gentleman. 
 Come and do an errand with me, first of all."
 
 THE REPEATED MESSAGE. 329 
 
 He led the way to the nearest florist's and care- 
 fully selected a great bunch of roses, whose green- 
 ish white petals, just unfolding, offered a rich 
 promise of their future beauty. He watched them 
 while they were being packed into the box ; then 
 he took out his card and wrote a few words on 
 the back of it, but, with a little frown, he crum- 
 pled it in his hand, and turned to Jack instead. 
 
 " Now, Jack," he said, in a low voice, as he put 
 the box into his hands ; " will you give this to Miss 
 Davis to-night, when she is quite alone, and say to 
 her that she will know what it means ? Say too, 
 please, that I shall be at the station in the morn- 
 ing, when you go, but that I may not have an 
 opportunity to speak to her. Can you remember 
 the message? Of course, you needn't say any- 
 thing to the others." 
 
 Jack nodded in perfect comprehension ; then, 
 tucking the box under his arm, he darted away up 
 the street, at a pace which endangered the necks 
 of the heavy-headed roses within. 
 
 Fully an hour before time for the train, next 
 morning, Mr. Thornton was wandering restlessly 
 up and down the platform of the station, nervously 
 snapping the case of his watch, and responding 
 with unwonted curtness to the salutations of his
 
 330 MARGARET DAVIS, TUTOR. 
 
 friends, who finally respected his evident desire to 
 be alone, and left him to himself. A dozen times 
 he told himself that he had mistaken the hour and 
 that the train had already gone ; but at length he 
 saw the Atherton carriage driving down the hill 
 to the station, just as a faint, distant whistle told 
 of the approach of the Boston express. He re- 
 treated to the safe refuge of the baggage-room and 
 peered anxiously out through the door-crack, as 
 the carriage stopped. 
 
 Jack leaped to the platform, followed by Gerald, 
 and they both turned to help Danforth out of the 
 carriage. Then came a long succession of air 
 cushions, bags, umbrellas and wraps until Hugh's 
 patience was well-nigh exhausted ; but at last he 
 saw Margaret rise and step down on the platform. 
 She had on a light spring gown which just matched 
 the color of her hair, and although she stood with 
 her face turned away, he could see that she was 
 looking unusually happy and bright. Would she 
 never get through fussing with that everlasting 
 boy, and turn around, he asked himself petulantly. 
 Just then the train came in, and, giving Danforth 
 her arm, she walked toward one of the forward cars. 
 As she passed near his place of concealment, Hugh 
 caught a glimpse of something white at her belt.
 
 THE HEl'EATEI) MESSAGE. 331 
 
 Regardless of the crowd about him, he pushed 
 his way toward her. Just as she was about to 
 enter the car, she saw him standing not far away, 
 and she blushed scarlet as, with a little half-uncon- 
 scious gesture, she pushed aside her jacket, and 
 exposed to view a great bunch of white roses 
 fastened into her belt. The next moment he was 
 at her side, and their hands and eyes had met, 
 before the train moved slowly away and left him 
 standing beside Gerald, on the empty platform. 
 
 The little man looked up at him, with a smile of 
 perfect unselfishness. 
 
 "I know what that means," he said, as he 
 offered his hand to Hugh. " I congratulate you 
 most earnestly ; you have won a glorious woman."
 
 CHAPTER XVIII. 
 
 DOWN BY THE SEA. 
 
 THE month that followed was a happy one for 
 Margaret and the boys. The spring had come on 
 early, that year ; and now, by the middle of May,, 
 the weather was perfect, day after day of clear, 
 warm sunshine when Danforth could lie stretched 
 out on the sand, in sheltered nooks of the shore, 
 and grow strong and rosy arid brown. After the 
 long winter of study, followed by the month -of 
 anxiety and care, the lazy, out-of-door life just 
 suited them all, and they enjoyed it to the utmost. 
 
 Pleasant Harbor was only a long, curving stretch 
 of shore, with three or four great hotels at one end, 
 and a strangely primitive little village at the other. 
 At this season, but one of the hotels was open, and 
 since Danforth was as yet unable to bear any ex- 
 citement, in preference to its noisy rooms and 
 many stairs, Gerald had hired quarters for them 
 in a pleasant cottage at the nearer end of the 
 village. The place was charming, and in it they 
 
 332
 
 DOWN BY THE SEA. 333 
 
 could be as free as at the hotel, and as quiet as in 
 their own home. Their landlady, too, was a char- 
 acter in her way, and the boys derived much 
 amusement from her conversation at the table, 
 where she artlessly sipped her tea from her saucer, 
 as she told them stirring tales of the old times 
 when Pleasant Harbor was a thriving fishing 
 ground, and summer hotels and their inmates were 
 a thing unknown. 
 
 Except at mealtimes, they saw but little of the 
 hospitable soul, who had put her whole first floor 
 at their disposal and retired to a little room under 
 the roof. However, in some manner known only 
 to himself, Jack had contrived to learn the way 
 to the kitchen, and to coax Mrs. Larrum into 
 letting him have an occasional taste of the goodies 
 she cooked so well; but Margaret and Danforth 
 were content to rely upon his accounts of the good 
 times he had behind the scenes, and leave him to 
 enjoy them by himself. 
 
 Margaret never wearied of the long days on the 
 shore. Directly after breakfast, they used to start 
 away from the cottage, Jack marching ahead with 
 his arms full of gay-colored cushions and rugs 
 while Danforth and Margaret followed more slowly. 
 There was one particular strip of sand, facing the
 
 334 MARGARET DAVIS, TUTOR. 
 
 south and protected on two sides by a high bluff, 
 where they liked best to camp, and they spent 
 many a long hour there, reading aloud, talking, or 
 resting idly on their cushions, listening to the 
 dreamy splash ! splash ! of the bright waves before 
 them. In this quiet, out-of-the-world existence, 
 they found a thousand things to interest them: 
 the changing tides and the floating clouds, a pass- 
 ing sail, a flight of sea-birds, or a school of por- 
 poises tumbling over and over at the surface of the 
 water. It was pleasure enough just to feel the 
 sun beat down upon them, as they leaned on their 
 elbows and let little handfuls of sand sift slowly 
 through their fingers. 
 
 The stragglers from the hotel who passed by 
 their little nook, soon learned to watch for them, 
 and to exchange a smile of greeting with the 
 pretty young woman and the tall, delicate-looking 
 boy. Jack they saw less often, for he was too 
 restless and active to stay with the others for long 
 at a time. By the time he had been three days at 
 the cottage, he knew half the old fishermen of the 
 Harbor, and was made free of their boats and their 
 wives' kitchens. He was as popular in the one 
 place as the other ; so, while his brother and Mar- 
 garet spent their time on the sand, he was coming
 
 DOWN BY THE SEA. 335 
 
 and going, afloat and ashore, now dashing past 
 Lhcin in a white-winged yacht, now sliding down 
 the rocks back of them and dropping down on the 
 sand at their side, to tell of his morning's adven- 
 tures and share with them the "nut-cakes" and 
 yarns which he had collected. 
 
 The doctor had been even wiser than he knew, 
 when he had ordered sea-air for Danforth. Each 
 day, the fresh breeze was bringing new strength to 
 the boy, whose cheeks began to fill out and grow 
 rosy and brown with the sunshine and the simple, 
 out-door life. Within an incredibly short time, 
 too, he could turn his back, upon Margaret's sup- 
 porting arm, and walk off again with his old, firm 
 step, slowly at first and only for a little way, then 
 for increasing distances, until,, long before the 
 month was over, he was quite his old self again, 
 and ready to join Jack in his explorations of the 
 harbor and the village. 
 
 "I wish your uncle could see our pensive invalid 
 now, Dan," said Margaret, one evening when their 
 month was drawing to a close. 
 
 They were out on the piazza of the cottage, 
 enjoying the warm twilight as it stole up from 
 the sea before them. Margaret lay comfortably 
 stretched out in the canvas hammock, and the
 
 336 MARGARET DAVIS, TUTOR. 
 
 two boys, shoulder to shoulder, were pacing up 
 and down the piazza in front of her. As she 
 spoke, Danforth paused, with a little laugh. 
 
 " Why for ? " he asked. " Is anything wrong? " 
 
 " No ; on the other hand, it's very much right," 
 she answered contentedly. "Do you remember 
 that you couldn't walk ten steps alone, when you 
 came down here ? " 
 
 Danforth whistled thoughtfully. 
 
 " That's so ; but I can hardly believe it. Let's 
 see, I've walked five miles to-day, and I haven't 
 had enough yet. Come down to our corner and 
 see the moon rise," he added persuasively. 
 
 " I'm afraid you have done enough for one day," 
 she demurred. " Aren't you too tired ? " 
 
 " Not I ; I'm not an invalid any longer. Don't 
 I look in good condition ? " 
 
 "You certainly do," she answered, smiling up 
 at him. " You're taller than Jack now, ever so 
 much. If you'll only broaden out a little, I won't 
 ask for anything more." 
 
 " Can't grow both ways at once, even to please 
 you," returned Danforth, squaring his shoulders 
 and standing very erect. " But come ahead ; let's 
 go back to the shore for an hour." 
 
 Margaret rose and went into her room for her
 
 DOWN BY THE SEA. 337 
 
 jacket. As she passed the table, she rested her 
 hand caressingly upon a little basket, heaped high 
 with white rose petals. Much as she was enjoying 
 her vacation, she almost longed to be at home 
 once more. Letters were such unsatisfactory 
 things, at best, and particularly so now, when she 
 and Hugh had so much to say to each other, and 
 he was kept at Riverton by the absence of his 
 president which made it impossible for him to be 
 away, even for one day. Still, life was all before 
 them, and she could easily afford to give up one 
 short month of it for the sake of Danforth, who 
 was just coming back into the world once more. 
 She gave the roseleaves a gentle touch, and smiled 
 happily to herself as she went on into the boys' 
 room, to get Danforth's light overcoat. Then, 
 throwing a scarlet and blue rug across her arm 
 and catching up a little air-cushion, she joined the 
 boys on the piazza again. 
 
 " Here I am, bag and baggage, ' she said gayly, 
 as she handed Danforth his coat. " It's so warm 
 to-night that we needn't hurry back, so we'll take 
 the key, and tell Mrs. Larrum that she needn't 
 sit up for us." 
 
 " All right ; she's a sleepy-head, and always 
 wants to go to bed with the chickejis," said Dan-
 
 338 MAKGARET DAVIS, TUTOK. 
 
 forth, as he pocketed the key to the front door 
 which opened directly into their little parlor. 
 "You're coming; aren't you, Jacky?" 
 
 "By and by," answered Jack from the ham- 
 mock, where he had taken Margaret's place. "I 
 want to go out and get some more of Mother 
 Larrum's doughnuts. This sea-air is giving me 
 an appetite at last." And Jack sighed pensively 
 at the memory of his vast supper, two hours ago. 
 " I'll come down and walk home with you," he 
 added reassuringly; "but I smell that kettle of 
 fat, and I know there's something good in the 
 wind." 
 
 "Don't kill yourself, there's a dear child," 
 urged Margaret laughingly, while Danforth put 
 on his overcoat and took forcible possession of 
 the rug. " Remember that no mortal boy can eat 
 more than seven large meals a day, and then 
 sleep the sleep of the just." 
 
 Down on the shore, the high tide was plashing 
 up over the sand in little, curling waves, and a 
 tiny track of light across the water led away 
 toward the rising moon. Far off to the east, they 
 could hear the throbbing engines of a distant 
 steamer ; and, only a mile away, they saw the 
 dim outline of a schooner, with the swaying
 
 DOWN BY THE SEA. 
 
 lights at her mast-heads. Margaret had settled 
 herself comfortably, with her back against a great 
 rock, and Danforth, scorning the rug, had thrown 
 himself down on the sand at her feet, with his 
 hands clasped under his head and his eyes fixed 
 on the broadening path of silver light. For a 
 long time they were silent, enjoying the quiet 
 beauty of the evening; but at length Danforth 
 broke the stillness. 
 
 "It's just like one night when I was ill," he 
 said thoughtfully. "I dreamed I was on the 
 ocean, in a little boat, and the wind was carrying 
 me back to India. I knew papa was there, and I 
 wanted to see him ; but still I dreaded to go. 
 Then, all at once, right up out of the sea came 
 my mother's face, looking so young and pretty, 
 like this picture, not as I remember her, those 
 last few days. My boat seemed to turn around 
 and follow her, and we went on and on till we 
 came to the shore. She disappeared then, and 
 when I looked for her, I couldn't see her; but 
 you stood on the beach, waiting for me to land. 
 It made me wonder, somehow, if she \tunted to 
 tell me she was glad you were here." 
 
 "She may have been nearer you then we any of 
 us knew," answered Margaret gently, while she
 
 340 MARGARET DAVIS, TUTOR. 
 
 looked down at the boy at her side, with a feel- 
 ing of pity for the young mother who would have 
 had such pride in her son. 
 
 The moon was well up now, and its white light 
 fell full upon Danforth's face. She studied it 
 Intently for a moment. It was certainly a face 
 of which any mother might be proud, pure and 
 true and gentle, while the experience of the past 
 two months had given it a new character and 
 firmness which it had always lacked before. Un- 
 known to all his friends but Margaret, the quiet, 
 reserved boy had passed through a few days of 
 bitter suffering, had mastered his fears and faced 
 a possible dark future with unfaltering bravery. 
 Hard as the contest had been for him, Margaret 
 could not regret it now, as she looked down into 
 his face and saw the new manliness written there. 
 
 " A penny for your thoughts," Danforth offered 
 her, with sudden lavishness as he rolled over and 
 met her steady gaze. 
 
 She laughed a little. 
 
 " I was having a most prosaic thought, just 
 then," she answered ; " wondering whether it was 
 prudent to let you lie here on the ground, in this 
 way." 
 
 "Why not? One never catches cold in salt air
 
 DOWN BY THE SEA. 341 
 
 or salt water," he replied, as he obediently spread 
 out the rug and rolled over on top of it. " Don't 
 make me get up ; I'm too comfortable, here in the 
 moonshine, and we haven't many more nights 
 ahead of us, if we go home next Monday." 
 
 " How are you going to like the idea of settling 
 down to work again?" inquired Margaret. 
 
 "I'm ready. If we stayed here, I'd never want 
 to do anything again ; the waves make me as lazy 
 as a salted codfish. But when we get home, I 
 think I shall like to go at it once more. I only 
 hope I don't flunk on the preliminaries, though. 
 It will spoil all the fun, if Jack and I don't go in 
 together." 
 
 " You'll pass easily enough," predicted Mar- 
 garet. " Two weeks will put you in training 
 again, so you needn't feel any anxiety. Next 
 year we can do a little extra work, to make up 
 for what we have lost, this spring." 
 
 "Ship ahoy!" called Jack's voice; and in an- 
 other minute he came strolling along the shore 
 and dropped down on the sand at Margaret's other 
 side, remarking, " You missed it this time, sure, 
 I've been having a high old feast. I helped 
 Mother Larrum fry, and she paid me out of the 
 dish."
 
 342 MARGARET DAVIS, TUTOR. 
 
 " I should think so," responded Margaret, with 
 a sniff of disgust, for Jack had brought with him 
 a suggestive fragrance of hot fat, which was sin- 
 gularly out of harmony with the moonlight and 
 the dreamy lapping of the waves. " I can't help 
 wishing that you hadn't come quite so straight 
 from the kitchen to us, Jack." 
 
 " Didn't," he answered, with his mouth full. 
 " I stopped at Captain Peleg's, on the way, and 
 he says the tide will be right for them to empty 
 the seine, early Monday morning, and don't we 
 want to go ? He'll get us back in plenty of time 
 for the train, and you'd better try it, for it's worth 
 seeing. You know I went out with him once 
 before, when we first came." 
 
 "If he will get us back, and if you don't die 
 of doughnuts before then," returned Margaret, 
 laughing. "If those things were offered to you 
 at the table at home, you'd never touch them, 
 Jack. What's the reason you can eat them by the 
 dozen here ? " 
 
 "Don't you know you can eat anything on a 
 picnic, even to stewed porgies?" he answered 
 placidly. "Besides, these aren't so bad as they 
 look, and a fellow must have something to keep 
 body and soul together."
 
 DOWN BY THE SEA. 343 
 
 The last three days of their outing hurried by, 
 and Monday morning found the trunks strapped 
 and waiting on the piazza of the cottage, ready 
 for the journey. Margaret and the boys had been 
 up betimes, and by seven o'clock they were on 
 the beach, waiting for Captain Peleg Harding to 
 bail out his clumsy scow and bring it up to the 
 pier. Captain Peleg was the oldest and toughest 
 and saltest of the Pleasant Harbor fishermen. He 
 was looked upon as one of the leading aristocrats 
 of the village, because he was sole proprietor of 
 the great seine which stretched out, like a giant 
 cobweb, above the sandbars, at low tide, and 
 the Maude Annabel, the massive, square-ended 
 boat in which he poled himself about the shal- 
 lows. 
 
 For years, ever since the hotels had been built 
 there, Captain Peleg had been persecuted with 
 requests to take the summer people out to the 
 seine ; but he had steadfastly refused their prayers 
 and their more substantial bribes until, one day 
 on the shore, he had been attracted by Jack's face 
 and manner, and had invited him to come on board 
 the Maude Annabel. From that time on, Captain 
 Peleg and the boy had been fast friends, and Jack 
 had passed many long hours with the Captain in
 
 344 MARGARET DAVIS, TUTOR. 
 
 his boat, listening to his marvellous yarns, and 
 treasuring them up to repeat to his brother. It 
 had needed but little coaxing for Jack to induce 
 Captain Peleg to consent to take Danforth out to 
 the seine ; but the old fisherman was not so willing 
 to allow Margaret on board the Maude Annabel, 
 whose deck, he boasted, had never yet been trod- 
 den by a woman. However, at last Jack's en- 
 treaties had carried the day, and Margaret was 
 to be permitted to make the voyage. 
 
 It was a gray, misty morning when they left the 
 house, and by the time they reached the pier, the 
 pearly fog hung low over the water, shutting out 
 the harbor and the distant shore. Through the 
 heavy mist, they could just make out the vague 
 shape of the Maude Annabel, fifteen feet away, and 
 of the four men who were bailing out the water 
 gathered in the bottom of the boat. They could 
 hear the splash of the falling drops, and see the 
 last faint ripple of their widening circles. Then 
 came the rattle of the oars, as the men seated 
 themselves and rowed slowly across to the little 
 pier, where Margaret and the boys scrambled on 
 board and took their places on the clumsy deck 
 built out over the stern. 
 
 "I told Jack to have you wear your oilskins,
 
 DOWN BY THE SEA. 345 
 
 ma'am," Captain Peleg said, with a disapproving 
 glance at Margaret's long, light mackintosh. " It's 
 a wettish kind of a place for a woman, an' you'll 
 get that fancy coat of yourn spotted, I'm afraid. 
 Sit down on them coats, though, an' maybe they'll 
 keep off some oii't." 
 
 But Margaret had reassured him as to her 
 mackintosh, and then settled herself on the scale- 
 flecked deck, with a boy at either hand. The 
 men took up their oars again, and they went glid- 
 ing out into the mist. 
 
 Awed by their unaccustomed guests, the fisher- 
 men rowed on in silence; and the stillness was 
 only broken by the dull creak and rattle of the 
 oars in their locks, or by an occasional word from 
 the boys. Margaret herself felt no desire to talk. 
 It was enough to watch the faces of the. men 
 before her, and the strange, unreal light upon the 
 water, as the shore slowly vanished from sight and 
 the mist shut down about them. Not a breeze 
 stirred the air ; not a wave broke the glassy surface 
 of the water ; nothing was moving about them 
 but their own rude craft, which seemed to be 
 bearing them away, out of the world. On and on 
 they went ; it might have been for rods, it might 
 have been for miles, for there was no way to
 
 346 MARGARET DAVIS, TUTOR. 
 
 measure their course as they drifted on, like a 
 phantom ship upon an unknown sea. 
 
 At length, a line of poles loomed up through 
 the mist. A moment later, the men dropped their 
 oars, as the scow floated up to the great round 
 pocket of the seine. Their passage through dream- 
 land was ended, and they had suddenly come back 
 again into the waking, workaday world. 
 
 The Maude Annabel had scarcely stopped, when 
 Captain Peleg leaped into the little boat trailing 
 at her side, and went rowing away around the 
 outer edge of the pocket, unhooking the net from 
 the poles and gathering it up, little by little, into 
 his boat, while the fish went sliding and tumbling 
 along, nearer and nearer the scow. Frightened 
 and confused as their trap grew more and more 
 narrow and crowded, they were frantically swim- 
 ming against each other, twisting and turning 
 and lashing the water into a white foam ; while 
 slowly but surely the captain gathered up mesh 
 after mesh of the net, slowly but surely brought 
 his boat closer and yet more close to the Maude 
 Annabel's side. Then, when they lay huddled 
 together in a dense, throbbing mass, the men bent 
 over to dip up great basketfuls of them and throw 
 them, bluefish and whitefish, bass and shad, the
 
 DOWN BY THE SEA. 347 
 
 strange, balloon-like toad-fish, the beautiful sea- 
 robin and the spotted squid, all into one vast, rest- 
 less pile in the bottom of the scow. There they 
 lay, floundering and panting, by hundreds and 
 by thousands, until little by little their struggles 
 ceased and all was still. But, long before that 
 time had come, Margaret had turned away, sick- 
 ened at the sight before her, which seemed to her 
 like a blot upon the dreamy beauty of the morning. 
 If only that writhing mass would come to rest ! 
 
 Then came the rapid sorting of the fish, when 
 all hands fell to work, counting out baskets of 
 whitefish and emptying them into the dory which 
 had come alongside from a fishing schooner, down 
 the bay; throwing back the sea-robins and the 
 toad-fish, and piling the squids into the basket of 
 the all-devouring Italian who had rowed over from 
 the next town. At length, when only the larger, 
 choicer fish remained, Captain Peleg gave a short, 
 sharp command, the men went back to their oars 
 and rowed away through the fast-lightening mist. 
 By degrees, the shore came into view again, first a 
 mere dark line through the pale fog, then more and 
 more distinct until, just as they reached the pier, 
 the mist vanished before a glad burst of sunshine. 
 
 Their month by the seashore was ended.
 
 CHAPTER XIX. 
 
 JUNE ROSES. 
 
 PLEASANT as the last few weeks had been, the 
 old Atherton house looked very attractive to the 
 three travellers, as they drove up the hill, that 
 same evening, for bright lights gleamed out from 
 every window, and Grandma Atherton stood wait- 
 ing in the porch, to welcome them back once 
 more. Then came the usual babel of greeting, 
 of question and answer, while they all exclaimed 
 at the improvement in Danforth, who was ruddy 
 and brown as never before, or laughed at the 
 vivid coat of sunburn on Jack's cheeks and nose. 
 But when Gerald led the way into the dining- 
 room where a late supper was awaiting them, 
 Grandma Atherton drew Margaret aside for a 
 moment, while she whispered, 
 
 " Gerald has told me, dear. Forgive an old 
 woman for speaking too soon, perhaps ; but we 
 are all so glad." 
 
 Promptly enough, they settled back into their 
 348
 
 JUNE HOSES. 349 
 
 well-remembered routine, the next morning. There 
 was much to be done in the coming two weeks, 
 and the boys were anxious to be at work once 
 more, to lose no chance of passing their dreaded 
 examinations. Bobbie would gladly have joined 
 them again ; but Gerald had decided that it would 
 be better for her to finish the term in school, so 
 that Margaret might be free to give all her time 
 to the boys. Next fall, they might return to 
 their old ways once more. 
 
 However, there was one drawback to Margaret's 
 perfect content, in these warm June days. On 
 her return, she had found awaiting her a note 
 from Hugh, saying that he was unexpectedly 
 called away upon business, and might not come back 
 in time to see her before she left Iliverton for the 
 summer. It was a bitter disappointment to Mar- 
 garet who had been eagerly looking forward to 
 their meeting, to the long, quiet talk which they 
 could have at last, when she could explain all 
 the mistake which had come between them, 
 months ago. Now she must wait again, perhaps 
 until Hugh's vacation gave him an opportunity 
 to see her in her own home. It was useless to try 
 to write it all ; she would prefer to wait. 
 
 All too soon the next few days hurried by, and the
 
 350 MAEGABET DAVIS, TUTOE. 
 
 last night of her year at Riverton had come. It 
 had been a warm, bright day, and, after their late din- 
 ner, Margaret and Danforthhad taken advantage of 
 the long June twilight to stroll down through the 
 town, and on to the rocky ledge by the basin, 
 where they had sat, months ago, and talked of 
 the boy's mother. Though neither of them had 
 spoken of that day, it had seemed quite natural 
 to them both that their last evening together 
 before the vacation should be spent in the spot 
 where they had first really known and understood 
 each other. 
 
 The sun was sinking toward the horizon as 
 they reached the place, and instinctively they 
 dropped down into their old positions, and watched 
 it for a moment in silence. Then Danforth 
 spoke. 
 
 " It has been a jolly year," he said thoughtfully. 
 "Next year will be even better, though, for we 
 shan't have to waste any time in getting ac- 
 quainted, as we did last fall. We can start right 
 in, as soon as you get back. When are you com- 
 ing, anyway ? " 
 
 "By the middle of September," she answered. 
 " We always spend August in the hills, and I 
 must have a few days, after I get home. Still, I
 
 JUNE ROSES. 351 
 
 shall come up earlier than I did last fall, so that 
 we can make up for our lost time, this spring." 
 
 " Bobbie has been in a state of mind, ever since 
 we came home," observed Danforth with a laugh. 
 " She thinks she's not in it, because she had to 
 stay in school, instead of working with us. I 
 wonder when she'll get into college, anyway." 
 
 " At present rate of progress, not until two 
 years after you and Jack do," replied Margaret, 
 as she leaned back against the rock and looked up 
 at the setting sun. " I'm not sorry, for she is 
 young for her age, and it won't hurt her to settle 
 down a little, before she starts off into the world 
 on her own account." 
 
 " Have you heard the latest, that Pen wants to 
 go, too?" inquired Danforth, with an amused 
 expression in his blue eyes. " She says she can't 
 make up her mind whether to be a doctor and go 
 as missionary to the Turkeys, or to adopt an 
 orphan. Fancy Pen in either business ! " And 
 he laughed disrespectfully. 
 
 "Pen did her best to adopt you, last winter," 
 suggested Margaret, with a smile. 
 
 "'Twas about an even thing which had it 
 worst," admitted Danforth candidly. "I had the 
 worst of it, though, the last day I took her out
 
 352 MARGARET DAVIS, TUTOR. 
 
 with Duke, for something had rubbed her the 
 wrong way, and she trampled all over me. Pen 
 can be a dear ; but when she's cross, you'd better 
 stand from under." 
 
 Margaret was saved from the necessity of 
 replying to this philosophical young lover, for 
 she had caught the sound of a quick footstep 
 coming along the path from the bridge, and, the 
 next moment, she had sprung up, with a little 
 glad outcry. 
 
 " Hugh ! " 
 
 " Peggy ! " And to the horror of the unsus- 
 pecting boy on the rocks below, Mr. Thornton's 
 arm encircled Margaret's waist, and her head 
 rested against his shoulder. 
 
 For a moment, Dan forth stared up at the 
 picture above him, at a loss to comprehend its 
 meaning. Then a sudden light dawned upon 
 him, and slipping down over the rocks, he strolled 
 off, with his hands in his pockets and his cap 
 cocked defiantly askew on the extreme back of his 
 head. 
 
 " Forgive me for taking you so by surprise," 
 Hugh was saying, a little later, as they sat there 
 in the gathering twilight. " I only came in on 
 the six o'clock train, and I went right up to the
 
 JUNE ROSES. 353 
 
 house, but they said you had gone out with Dan. 
 Bobbie suggested that this was a favorite walk 
 with you both, so I thought I'd take the chances, 
 and come on after you." He paused ; then he 
 added, in a lower tone, " Oh, Peggy, after all this 
 time, it seems almost too good to be true." 
 
 She turned and looked up at him. 
 
 "Hugh," she began; "I've something I must 
 tell you, something you've never understood. Do 
 you remember that night at Mrs. Sutherland's, 
 ever so long ago ? " 
 
 He nodded silently, while a little look of pain 
 crossed his face. 
 
 " That was all a dreadful mistake. The flowers 
 came, but the card was left out ; it didn't reach 
 me until I had gone home, after the reception." 
 
 " What ? " And Hugh started up, in quick 
 indignation. 
 
 " Yes ; it was all through somebody's careless- 
 ness, and if we hadn't both come up here, we 
 should never have known " 
 
 " And if you had known, if the card had come, 
 you would have worn the roses ? " 
 
 " Yes," she answered gently. " I was ready to 
 wear them then." 
 
 There was a pause. Then Hugh asked sud- 
 denly,
 
 354 MARGARET DAVIS, TUTOR. 
 
 " But why didn't you tell me before ? " 
 
 " How could I ? " she replied. " You went 
 away, and left no address with anyone. How 
 was I to find you ? " 
 
 "But after we were up here?" he urged. 
 " That first night at the Athertons', when you 
 ran away from me ? " 
 
 " I couldn't," she answered simply. " After all 
 that time, how could I be. sure that you still 
 cared?" 
 
 "Peggy, dear," he asked slowly, as he looked 
 straight down into her eyes ; " did you ever really 
 doubt it?" 
 
 " No," she said with a little, happy gesture, as 
 she let her hand fall on his. " No, I never did." 
 
 " But what became of Dan ? " she asked, after a 
 short silence. " He was here, only a minute ago." 
 
 Hugh laughed, as he pointed into the valley 
 below, where they could see a boyish figure wan- 
 dering aimlessly up and down the dusty road. 
 
 *" I'm afraid I drove him off," he answered. 
 "Shall I call him?" 
 
 "Do, please. Dan must be the first one to 
 congratulate us, for he really brought us together 
 again." 
 
 At Hugh's ringing call, the boy turned sud-
 
 JUNE ROSES. 355 
 
 denly and came scrambling up the rocks to his old 
 position. 
 
 " Well, I must say you're a sly pair," was his 
 first salutation. " I'd just like to know when you 
 settled the matter." 
 
 "It was all settled long ago," said Margaret, 
 with a laughing glance at Hugh. " We were 
 only waiting for a new set of roses to blossom, 
 before we told anybody else." 
 
 "But, I say," objected Danforth suddenly; 
 " this is going to upset everything, all round ; 
 isn't it?" 
 
 "Not a bit," replied Hugh promptly. "It's 
 going to set everything right." 
 
 " No ; but I mean you'll be carrying Miss Davis 
 off, before we're through with her," persisted Dan- 
 forth. " We can't stand that, you know." 
 
 "You needn't worry, Dan," she reassured him. 
 " I shall refuse to be carried off, just yet. I have 
 promised to put you and Jack into college, and I 
 shall keep my word, so Mr. Thornton will have 
 to wait." 
 
 " Don't be too sure of my consent," he replied, 
 with mock dignity. " I may assert my authority, 
 unless you hurry into Yale next fall. When do 
 your exams, begin?"
 
 356 MARGARET DAVIS, TUTOR. 
 
 " Day after to-morrow," Danforth answered, as 
 he possessed himself of Margaret's other hand. 
 u We're all going down, to-morrow morning ; and 
 Jack and I are to stay a week with Miss Davis, 
 before we come back." 
 
 " Happy Jack and happy you ! " said Hugh en- 
 viously. " You two boys have been taking al- 
 together too much of Miss Davis's time, lately. 
 Still, I shall have to put up with it ; for if it hadn't 
 been for you, we mightn't have been sitting here 
 together." And he smiled at Danforth's mystified 
 face. 
 
 The twilight had quite fallen now, and the stars 
 were slowly corning out, in the deep blue sky 
 above them. Down in the valley at their feet, the 
 lights were twinkling in the windows of the lonely 
 farm. All around them, the languid night air was 
 fragrant and heavy with the masses of wild roses 
 on the banks above. Hugh leaned back, and broke 
 off a few pink blossoms from the nearest bush. 
 
 " ' Roses red and roses white 
 
 Plucked I for my love's delight,' " 
 
 he quoted softly, as he placed them in her yellow 
 hair. " They are our flowers, Peggy ; and next 
 June we will prove it to all the world."
 
 JUNE ROSES. 357 
 
 Just then there came a sound of rustling and 
 rushing along the path, and, the next instant, 
 Laddie leaped upon them, frisking about and bark- 
 ing a mad welcome. Jack followed him in a more 
 leisurely fashion, and was close by their side 
 before he recognized Hugh through the gathering 
 darkness. Then he cast one comprehensive glance 
 upon the group, upon Margaret's radiant face, 
 upon the roses in her hair and in Hugh's hand; 
 and he gave a long, low whistle. 
 
 " Jupiter Ammon and his children ! " be ejacu- 
 lated, with classic fervor. " So the roses did the 
 business ; did they ? "
 
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