THE COURAGE 
 OF CONVICTION 
 
By T. R. SULLIVAN 
 
 The Courage of Conviction, izmo, 
 
 $1.50. 
 
 Ars Et Vita and Other Stories. Illus 
 trated by ALBERT E. STENIKR. 
 I2tno, $1.25. 
 
 Tom Sylvester. A Novel. 121110, $1.50. 
 Roses of Shadow. A Novel. 121110, 
 
 $1.00. 
 
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THE COURAGE 
 OF CONVICTION 
 
 A NOVEL 
 
 BY 
 
 T. R. SULLIVAN 
 
 " Alexander subdued the world, Cassar his enemies, 
 Hercules monsters, but he that overcomes himself is 
 the true valiant Captain." HOWELL S LETTERS. 
 
 CHARLES SCRIBNER S SONS 
 NEW YORK:::::::::::::::::i 9 02 
 
COPYRIGHT, 1902, BY 
 CHARLES SCRIBNER S SONS 
 
 Published, May, 1902 
 
 TROW DIRECTOflY 
 
 NTING AND BOOKBINDING COM 
 
 NEW YORK 
 
CTo 
 L. W. S. 
 
 2138406 
 
CONTENTS 
 
 PACK 
 
 I. THE SONG AND THE SERMON i 
 
 II. CAUSE AND EFFECT . . . .16 
 
 III. THE TURN OF THE TIDE . . .26 
 
 IV. ART S FIRM VOTARY . . . -37 
 V. UNDER CHARITABLE STARS . . - 5 
 
 VI. THE THORNS OF CONQUEST . . -63 
 
 VII. THE OBLONG Box 71 
 
 VIII. ALTERED CASES 83 
 
 IX. PROSPERITY ...... 99 
 
 X. THE HAMMER AND THE ANVIL . .115 
 
 XI. CLOUD-CAPP D TOWERS .... 131 
 
 XII. THE SHELTERED SIDE OF CARE . . 152 
 
 XIII. WHERE LIGHT IN DARKNESS LIES . . 166 
 
 XIV. CERTAINTIES UNFORESEEN . . . 180 
 XV. ADVERSITY ...... 196 
 
 XVI. NATURE S KINDLY LAW . . . .219 
 
 XVII. ADVENTURES BRAVE AND NEW . . 229 
 
 XVIII. UNDER THE ROSE 235 
 
 XIX. POSTSCRIPTUM 249 
 
The Courage of Conviction 
 
 THE SONG AND THE SERMON 
 
 r I ^HE night was but half over at Mrs. Brinkley 
 -- Barrington s, yet already her hundred invited 
 guests, comparing notes confidentially in the pauses of 
 the music, were convinced that it was one to be long re 
 membered. The new oval room, hung with pale-blue 
 silken damask, had been proved flawless, acoustically 
 and artistically. The Paganini of the day, inspired by 
 these favoring conditions, had surpassed himself, draw 
 ing from his rare old violin such strains as never before 
 were heard. More than that, the soft, diffused glow, 
 streaming down from the gilded cornice which con 
 cealed the lights, was most becoming. The women, 
 wearing their best in satin, lace, and jewels, looked 
 their best, and knew it. Supreme satisfaction shone 
 in every face; all was so strange and so delightful that 
 even the most jaded wanderer of the night could not 
 help yielding to the tingle of a new sensation. 
 
 Into this agreeable company came two men, ar 
 riving late from the dinner-table over which they had 
 
 i 
 
The Courage of Conviction 
 
 lingered together in one of the smaller Fifth Avenue 
 clubs, a few blocks away. They were men of about 
 the same age, still young, on the hither side of thirty, 
 that is to say, with fresh, unwrinkled faces. Their in 
 timacy had begun in college, and they had much in 
 common besides their youth and the accident of asso 
 ciation. Comparatively poor, they were included in 
 that very large fraction of American society which is 
 dependent upon its own exertions for getting on in 
 the world, as the phrase goes, otherwise, for getting 
 money in sufficient quantities to ensure comfort, if not 
 ease. Both, therefore, upon graduating, had accepted 
 the situation and those salaried positions down town 
 which reconciled to a certain extent the laws of supply 
 and demand; and, apart from these, each was fortunate 
 enough to have intellectual resources of his own so 
 marked as to give him distinct individuality. 
 
 The younger of the two, Gordon Wise, had shown, 
 when a child, a strong taste for music. Later his father 
 had received a foreign appointment in the diplomatic 
 service; and, during those years abroad, the boy had 
 fallen in with a famous German composer, who, dis 
 covering talent in him, fostered and cultivated it. The 
 master s hope was that he would devote himself solely 
 to his art. But this plan Gordon s father, who held 
 practical views of life, bitterly opposed. Yet the son, 
 though yielding so far as to give music only a sec 
 ondary place in his scheme, kept the hope always in 
 
The Song and the Sermon 
 
 mind. He had worked hard and well, with steady 
 progress, from time to time making a frank appeal to 
 the public by the sale of his compositions. Before 
 long these gained for him a kind of local fame, meagrely 
 accorded. Then one song, strange to say, his best, 
 touched the popular heart, and, republished in Lon 
 don, brought him into wider notice. The boy, grown 
 to man s estate, had proved his case, as even the father, 
 had he still been living, might now have admitted. 
 
 Though no change in Gordon s daily habits had yet 
 occurred, it was believed that he meant to follow up 
 this success by turning from the business career to the 
 professional one. He was unmarried, amiable, very 
 simple, and genial in his manners; somewhat too short, 
 perhaps, somewhat inclined to stoutness; yet decidedly 
 good-looking, beardless, with brown hair, a fair com 
 plexion and a fine light in his deep blue eyes. Thus 
 was Gordon Wise, as the world knew him ; and, for 
 the moment, the world seemed to be almost at his 
 feet. 
 
 His companion, Paul Hemming, also a bachelor, a 
 tall, slender, dark fellow of twenty-eight, pursued, like 
 Wise, an ignis fatuus in his leisure hours. From his 
 first youth he had longed to be a painter. More time 
 and far more money than he could spare had been de 
 voted to that longing, but these were not spent in vain. 
 He was a man of fine instincts, whom the painters, 
 one and all, respected and admired for his unfailing 
 
 3 
 
The Courage of Conviction 
 
 purpose, for the skill which he had acquired under 
 great disadvantages. Forced by the burden of poverty 
 to stay at home, he knew the great European galleries 
 only at second-hand or from photographs. But he had 
 been fortunate in his teachers, doubly fortunate in his 
 own power of application. Though the achievement 
 still fell short of the intention, his work had so much 
 strength combined with originality, that connoisseurs 
 were drawn to it, as indicating unusual promise. 
 Some of it, indeed, had sold well. The circle to which 
 his name was known, however, remained a small one. 
 He had yet to fan the flame thus kindled. It was his 
 determination to do this, perhaps, that gave his face 
 in repose a certain grimness, which made his friends 
 charge him with austerity; but this may have been 
 merely an inheritance, since his mother was of New 
 England birth. The look, it should be said, did him 
 injustice. Paul Hemming was a philosopher, it is true; 
 yet, on the whole, a cheerful one. 
 
 After the smile of their hostess and their unspoken 
 admiration of her diamond tiara and necklace, the two 
 men leaned against the wall near the doorway to con 
 template the scene. There it seemed best to remain, 
 for the seats were all taken, and a few late-comers 
 stood, like themselves, in various parts of the room. 
 There was no music for the moment, but much talk 
 and laughter and rustling of programmes. 
 
 "How well Suzette Brinkley looks!" said Gordon 
 4 
 
The Song and the Sermon 
 
 Wise. " Who is that tall girl next her, the blonde, 
 in rose color? " 
 
 He did not turn in speaking, or he must have ob 
 served that his friend s eyes were fixed upon the same 
 point. 
 
 " That is Miss Stanwood," Hemming answered. 
 
 " Good Heavens, man ! Not Nina Stanwood, the 
 Winnipeg King s daughter! Why, so it is, but how 
 she has changed! " 
 
 "Ah! I thought you must know her." 
 
 " Yes, but I don t. I remember seeing her as a 
 school-girl, before she came out, that s all. She has 
 lived abroad, hasn t she?" 
 
 " In Germany, for several years. She came home in 
 the autumn, and I have met her at one or two small 
 dinners lately. She does not go much into the world, 
 it seems." 
 
 " I understand," said Gordon Wise, smiling. " Be 
 cause of papa! The invisible social line is drawn at 
 him. Money won t buy everything." 
 
 " Wait, and see! " his friend returned, quietly. Then, 
 glancing at his programme, he added: "Look here! 
 Stahlberg is to sing." 
 
 " So she is, and we are in luck! How did Barring- 
 ton accomplish that? She does not make her first 
 appearance at the Opera House until to-morrow." 
 
 " Money will do much, you see," said Hemming. 
 " Is she as great as they say? " 
 
 5 
 
The Courage of Conviction 
 
 "Great? I heard her in Berlin several years ago, 
 and even then she was divine. There s no one like 
 her!" 
 
 As Wise pronounced this judgment, a burst of ap 
 plause greeted the singer, who came in by a small 
 door at the upper end of the room. She was of tragic 
 mould, and her face, suggesting Jewish origin, still 
 kept its youthful lines; her coils of black hair were 
 arranged with the utmost simplicity; she wore white, 
 without ornament of any kind upon her neck or arms. 
 But her dark eyes, flashing out over the company, cast 
 a spell upon it. And in what seemed breathless silence 
 she began her song. 
 
 It was Schumann s wonderful " Ich grolle nicht!" 
 to Heine s words; a song thrice familiar to many of 
 the listeners, who yet must have felt that they were 
 hearing it now for the first time. Every tone of the 
 deep contralto voice rang clear and true. Every word 
 was given its just dramatic value, from the defiant scorn 
 in the opening phrases to the passionate despair of 
 the final renunciation. With this Madame Stahlberg 
 completed her overwhelming triumph over hearts not 
 touched too easily; and the silence continued for an 
 appreciable moment, before it was broken by con 
 ventional applause. 
 
 Gordon Wise turned to his friend with an inquir 
 ing glance. Hemming s eyes glistened, and at first 
 he replied only by a nod; then, after the room had 
 
 6 
 
The Song and the Sermon 
 
 settled back once more into light-hearted chatter, the 
 painter whispered: 
 
 " You were right. Art like that would convert an 
 infidel! Yet listen, these two in front of us are won 
 dering what price Stahlberg can command ! " 
 
 " Of course. They worship the symbol of success. 
 That is the thing which they respect and under 
 stand." 
 
 " The thing which makes life possible to nine here 
 out of every ten!" said Hemming, bitterly. " They 
 have no real feeling for art, no real appreciation of 
 it. They know nothing of the artist s sacrifices, of 
 the patient toil, the struggle for the best that should 
 command respect, whether it succeeds or fails. Yet 
 that struggle is the only one worth making in this 
 world." 
 
 " My dear fellow, you ask too much. How should 
 they know? " 
 
 " They might do all I ask and more, if they only 
 would," Hemming sighed. " There is a hopeless lack 
 of sympathy with the artist in this commercial land 
 of ours. Well, it makes the struggle all the finer when 
 it is undertaken seriously. And a word in your ear, 
 Gordon; I, for one, have decided to undertake it." 
 
 " What do you mean? " 
 
 " I mean that I have burned my bridges at last, and 
 am going in for the work I love best with all my 
 heart and soul." 
 
 7 
 
The Courage of Conviction 
 
 Wise drew a long breath. " When did you decide 
 this? " said he. 
 
 " Only to-day. You are the first to know ; but it 
 is fixed; in a week I shall be at the mercy of the 
 world." 
 
 " This is a very serious step," Wise answered, after 
 a moment s reflection. " It needs good courage. But 
 you have counted the cost, I suppose." 
 
 " Yes, carefully. I have saved a little money, a 
 very little. If I sell my Tithonus I shall get the 
 year of foreign study that I want. If not, I shall do 
 my best here, without it. There will be a hard fight 
 in any case, with possible privation, possible despair, 
 and yet 
 
 " But there is something more," interposed the other; 
 " you give up all thought of marriage, unless 
 
 He left the sentence unfinished, and, after waiting 
 a little, Paul Hemming inquired, gravely : 
 
 "Unless what? I have considered that, too, and 
 put away the thought, of course. Whatever my fate, 
 it will not be to make a fortune. One cannot marry 
 on the uncertainties of art." 
 
 " Unless one marries money." 
 
 "God forbid!" said Hemming, reproachfully. 
 " What do you take me for, Gordon? " 
 
 " I understand and approve, not to say admire, your 
 resolution. It shows courage that will take you far. 
 My dear fellow, I congratulate you." 
 
 8 
 
The Song and the Sermon 
 
 " Prove it, then ! Like me, you have your art, and 
 are practically free, without hampering ties. Don t 
 speak across a gulf! Plunge in and follow me." 
 
 "Who knows but I may?" said Gordon Wise, 
 shrugging his shoulders. " And yet my art is dif 
 ferent, very different, you see." 
 
 At that moment the two men were joined by their 
 host, Mr. Barrington, who had been pressing toward 
 them through the crowd. 
 
 "Ah, Hemming," he said; "very glad to see you. 
 Wise, you are the man I want. Stahlberg desires to 
 sing your song, the new one. You must play her 
 accompaniment." 
 
 "What! After Schumann?" said Wise, flushing 
 with pleasure. 
 
 " Oh, we ll give you an interval," returned Barring- 
 ton, laughing. " After the string quartette, she will 
 sing the Bach hymn, as you see. Then there s a violin 
 solo; then we want to run you in for the finish." 
 
 " It s very good of her I can t refuse," stammered 
 the young composer. 
 
 " Well, I should say not. Come with me, and be 
 presented to her. She is even more charming than 
 she looks." 
 
 So Wise was led away, and in due course the music 
 was resumed according to the printed programme. 
 When the end came, the host stepped forward to an 
 nounce that Madame Stahlberg had most kindly con- 
 
 9 
 
The Courage of Conviction 
 
 sented to interpret the work of a native composer. 
 And the applause which greeted this statement re 
 doubled when Gordon Wise, following the singer, took 
 his seat at the piano. 
 
 " What! After Schumann? " Hemming understood 
 the doubt upon discovering that the music was written 
 for the three stanzas in Heine s Book of Songs, im 
 mediately following those made forever memorable by 
 the great German composer, namely, for the twelve 
 lines of passionate grief, wherein " Mein Lieb, wir 
 sollen Beide elend sein " is the refrain. But he soon 
 perceived that Wise, in choosing this theme, had jus 
 tified the rash step in some degree by originality of 
 treatment. If the song lacked Schumann s inspiration, 
 it had power and pathos which were all its own, where 
 of the famous interpreter now made the most. Re 
 called again and again at the close, she generously 
 forced the local favorite to the front. It was but a 
 small portion of the world s public which thus did 
 them honor; yet Hemming, striving to judge his friend 
 impartially, felt assured that the song, so interpreted, 
 would have received the same recognition in Cairo 
 or St. Petersburg. The success was genuine and well 
 deserved. 
 
 The crowd moved slowly toward the supper-room, 
 and Hemming, observing that two of the younger 
 guests were caught in an eddy, hurried on to join 
 them. They were Miss Stanwood and Miss Brinkley, 
 
 10 
 
The Song and the Sermon 
 
 of whom he had spoken earlier in the evening. After 
 greeting them both, he offered his arm to Miss Stan- 
 wood, her companion took that of another man who 
 came up at the moment, and they fell into line to 
 gether, while praise of Wise and Madame Stahlberg 
 resounded on all sides. Hemming naturally introduced 
 the subject of the music, Miss Stanwood as naturally 
 agreeing that it had been remarkable. Then she 
 passed abruptly from that to his own art, and asked 
 what he was doing. He answered, lightly, that he 
 was still covering yards of canvas for the adornment 
 of his studio. 
 
 " Oh, but I hear better things than that! " she de 
 clared. " You mean to take up painting more seriously, 
 to the exclusion of everything else, it seems." 
 
 " 111 news travels fast," he said, with a touch of 
 annoyance. " Pray, how did you hear this ? " 
 
 " And good news, too ! I was very glad to hear 
 it; glad that there is one man who has the courage of 
 his convictions. I congratulate you. It was my father 
 who told me." 
 
 She did not add, as she might have done, that her 
 father had stated his belief that Hemming was little 
 better than a fool. The man of convictions, pleased 
 by her words and their tone, which struck a note of 
 sincerity, expressed his pleasure in a look. This she 
 met with a smile, while a faint flush stole into her 
 cheeks. 
 
 II 
 
The Courage of Conviction 
 
 " Thank you," said Hemming, gratefully. " A word 
 like that helps a man. I shall remember yours in my 
 rainy days." 
 
 "Ah, but there mustn t be any! Why should it 
 rain at all? Tell me about your work; what I have 
 seen of it interests me so much." 
 
 " I will, but not now," he answered, as they came 
 in sight of the supper-table. " Now it is our duty to 
 eat, drink, and be merry. What shall I bring you?" 
 
 " Whatever you please, so long as you promise to 
 come back; later, for the talk, I mean." 
 
 Hemming pushed in among the men around the 
 table, there meeting and congratulating Wise, from 
 whose face the glow of excitement had not yet sub 
 sided. When he returned with his supplies, Miss 
 Stanwood had joined a group of girls who were busily 
 comparing impressions. This was not the moment 
 to begin a serious conversation; so he hovered about 
 the room for a while, talking of this and that, clinking 
 glasses with one man after another, and was presented 
 to the radiant Stahlberg, who held her court in a 
 corner where many devoted subjects paid their tribute 
 in turn. Then, finally drifting back to Miss Stanwood, 
 he found her with Gordon Wise, whom Harrington 
 had brought up. Their mood was of the lightest, and 
 he could only fall in with it. Wise stayed on, but, 
 while they laughed together, many of the guests took 
 leave. Miss Stanwood, suddenly noticing this, inquired 
 
 12 
 
The Song and the Sermon 
 
 the hour, and, when Hemming showed her his watch, 
 gave a little cry of dismay. 
 
 " My carriage came long ago; everybody is going. 
 Good-night! You will come to see me, won t you? 
 Any afternoon late! " This last word included them 
 both, as she turned to the hostess, who stood very 
 near. Then she went away; and the two men soon 
 followed, agreeing to walk up the avenue together. 
 
 " Miss Stanwood is a sympathetic soul," said Hem 
 ming, when, with their cigars lighted, they had come 
 out under the stars. He was secretly regretting that 
 promised discussion of his art, now postponed. 
 
 " Yes," admitted Gordon Wise. " It is a pity that 
 she knows so little about music." 
 
 " Don t do her injustice! Who can talk sensibly in 
 the clatter of a supper-room? " 
 
 " Ah, but a straw will show the way of the wind. 
 I am sure that she knows little of it, and cares less." 
 
 This plainly referred to some speech of hers before 
 Hemming had joined them. But the painter did not 
 press the matter for further enlightenment. Instead 
 of doing that, after an interval of silence, he took up 
 his former attack where he had left it earlier in the 
 evening. 
 
 " You were at the top of the heap to-night, Gordon. 
 The whole thing was a splendid indication. Why will 
 you not follow me into the Rubicon? You could not 
 choose a better moment." 
 
 13 
 
The Courage of Conviction 
 
 " I will think of it. At least, we should be swamped 
 together." 
 
 " Don t admit that! If you must be haunted by the 
 thought of failure, admit only that under certain con 
 ditions it is better than success." 
 
 This is a very pious and persuasive text of yours, 
 but 
 
 " But you can t deny that I practise what I preach. 
 Come, now! Can you?" 
 
 "No!" returned Wise, stopping at the corner of 
 the cross street down which he was to turn. " As 
 I said before, I admire your courage." 
 
 " It s not courage," said Hemming, earnestly, " but 
 a survival of superstitious faith. Thank God, there 
 is some left, even in this tyrannous Republic of Com 
 monplace. I believe that the man who tries honestly 
 can t fail. His guardian angel won t let him." 
 
 " Angels be blowed! " laughed Wise. " They don t 
 flock here on Manhattan Island. Say that I am cursed 
 with a mere rivulet of talent; how then? To swell that 
 into a flood would tax the strength of an archangel. 
 How then, I say ? " 
 
 "How then?" repeated Hemming. "Why, fail! 
 But in the right way, not the wrong one. Good 
 night!" 
 
 He went on through the darkness with a ringing 
 stride, while Gordon Wise waited there a moment 
 longer, looking after him. " I wish I were as sure of 
 
 14 
 
The Song and the Sermon 
 
 myself as that," he sighed. " But why shouldn t I be? 
 Why not follow his lead for better, for worse? I should 
 get the joy of the conflict out of it in any case; but 
 is that worth the sacrifice?" Thereupon he turned, 
 shrugging his shoulders with a laugh, as he walked 
 slowly homeward. And when he reached his door the 
 vital question was still unanswered. 
 
II 
 
 CAUSE AND EFFECT 
 
 IN the total exclusion of Anthony Stanwood from 
 fashionable life the imaginary social line of which 
 Gordon Wise and his friend had spoken swerved out 
 of its accustomed course. It is true that he was a 
 hard, unpolished man of obscure antecedents, whose 
 first occupation in life had been that of brakeman upon 
 a Western railroad. But in various ways, some of 
 which were none too scrupulous, he had risen into 
 prominence with a large fortune, and for ten years or 
 more had made his home in New York, there control 
 ling certain vast interests in the North-West with a 
 relentless hand. He had a kind of Midas-gift for 
 making money; when he bought an acre or two of 
 land, copper and silver, if not gold, were sure to be 
 discovered in it; when he built upon the outskirts of 
 a town, its growth was always in his direction. In 
 many similar cases ten years of wealth have served to 
 blot out completely all recollection of a former state. 
 The grocer of one generation may become the prince 
 of another with none to dispute his rank, openly at 
 least. 
 
 The limitations of this man s nature, however, were 
 16 
 
Cause and Effect 
 
 very marked, and he had never learned to overcome 
 or even thoroughly to disguise them. He was mean, 
 narrow, exacting in small ways, without the faint 
 est notion of good-fellowship. Apart from his busi 
 ness schemes he had few interests beyond the daily 
 newspaper and an occasional game of cards. In the 
 commercial world, while his power was recognized, he 
 was disliked and feared; from the social world he was 
 simply ruled out as impossible. Entirely conscious of 
 this unpopularity, he had at one time striven against 
 it; succeeding so far as to get his name proposed for 
 membership at a fashionable club. But when he was 
 blackballed there, he accepted his position, and went 
 on in his own way. Men of that sort sometimes gain 
 distinction through their wives; and Mrs. Stanwood, 
 a woman of gentle nature, intellectually her husband s 
 superior, might have accomplished this, had she been 
 more self-asserting. But she was shy and reserved 
 at best, often, moreover, a martyr to ill-health, too 
 feeble for such an effort. All the care she was capable 
 of giving had been bestowed upon her daughter, the 
 only child. She had carried all her points in regard 
 to Nina s education, which she desired should include 
 every accomplishment that her own had lacked. The 
 girl was sent to the best schools, and taken abroad in 
 due course. No pains, in short, were spared to make 
 the training thorough, and the end justified the means. 
 For Nina Stanwood, inheriting her mother s gentle 
 17 
 
The Courage of Conviction 
 
 disposition, showed eagerness to learn, with ability to 
 put her learning to the best account; and, at twenty, 
 was agreeable and intelligent, as well as fair and grace 
 ful, making friends wherever she went. She was de 
 voted to her mother, and she idolized her father, whom 
 she considered to be the handsomest man of his time. 
 In fact, so far as features go, he was not ill-looking, 
 and he tried hard to keep his seamy side well hidden 
 in her presence. Viewing him always in the light of 
 her own better nature, she recognized but two defects, 
 both trifling, in his. One was a slight tendency 
 to disregard grammatical laws in his speech under 
 excitement; the other being an indifference to take 
 what seemed his proper place in society, which she 
 innocently supposed to have been always a matter of 
 choice with him. With her help, he might have done 
 much to correct this latter failing; for her beauty and 
 unconscious grace were already beginning to tell, so 
 that, day by day, the barriers of exclusion went down 
 before her. But her father, now nearly sixty, had 
 merged his former ambitious yearnings into a feeling 
 of pride at Nina s success. He was very proud of her, 
 fonder of her than he had ever been of anyone. His 
 meanness had never shown itself much at home, and 
 now he showered money and gifts upon this child 
 whose wishes he strove to anticipate. In her all his 
 social aims were now concentrated. She must marry 
 well, a man of good family, a rich man, of course. 
 
 18 
 
Cause and Effect 
 
 About a week after the Harrington musical party, 
 Mr. Stanwood sat in a sunny corner of his breakfast- 
 room, reading the morning paper. He had breakfasted 
 alone, for his wife rarely left her room until late in 
 the day, and Nina had not yet come down. He re 
 membered that she had danced out the night at a ball 
 of which he desired to hear her account; so he waited 
 for her with some impatience, reading the foreign tele 
 grams and stock reports twice over; then, glancing 
 idly at the editorial page, he found a paragraph there 
 which stirred him into disapproval. He tossed the 
 paper aside contemptuously, and paced the room for 
 a while, in his preoccupation letting his cigar go out. 
 
 As he stopped to relight it, the door opened and 
 Nina came in. Her gray eyes sparkled merrily; she 
 seemed the embodiment of health and good spirits 
 as she flashed across the room like a ray of sunlight 
 to kiss her father affectionately, and his clouded face 
 cleared at sight of her. 
 
 " I thought you were never coming down," said he. 
 " But you don t look a bit the worse for sitting up 
 all night. How did the ball go? " 
 
 " Oh, papa, it was delightful ! I had the best time 
 in all my life!" She turned away to ring the bell, 
 while he, smiling at the speech which he had heard 
 before, went back to his chair in the window. 
 
 " Tell me about it, Nina. Who were your part 
 ners?" 
 
 19 
 
The Courage of Conviction 
 
 " Dear me, how can I remember? There were so 
 many! Let me see. I danced first with George Har 
 vey, then with Gordon Wise 
 
 " Harvey? That s the banker s son, isn t it? Har 
 vey, Long and Company?" 
 
 " Yes, papa, that is, I believe so. I am not 
 perfectly sure; but he is very nice, and he dances 
 well." 
 
 "And the others?" 
 
 Nina seated herself at the table, laughing, and gave 
 him more names from her long list while the break 
 fast was brought in. " And I danced the cotillon with 
 Mr. Hemming," she concluded, as the servant left 
 them alone again. 
 
 Mr. Stanwood stirred uneasily, and there came a 
 change in his expression which the newspaper, held 
 before his face, concealed from Nina. She noticed, 
 however, the contemptuous tone of his reply. 
 
 "Hemming!" he said. "Always on deck, isn t 
 he?" 
 
 "Why not, papa? Of course, he goes everywhere; 
 everybody likes him." 
 
 A sharp retort rose to her father s lips. " Very well, 
 then, I don t!" was what he thought and meant to 
 say. But he checked the speech in time, and only 
 answered, with the same irritating contempt: 
 
 " Oh, I dare say he s a pleasant chap enough, but 
 he s a born fool to fling away his chances as I hear 
 
 20 
 
Cause and Effect 
 
 he has. I ve said it before, and I say it again. He ll 
 live to find out that there s no friend in this world 
 like a ten-dollar bill." 
 
 Nina s face flushed; but, after waiting a moment, 
 she replied, calmly: 
 
 " He will make many such friends if he lives long 
 enough. He is not painting wholly for amusement, 
 papa." 
 
 "Oh, of course not! There are fools enough to 
 encourage him for a while, I suppose; they ll flatter 
 him, and turn his head, if they haven t already. But 
 that ain t business. He ll get left, you ll see. I ll 
 guarantee to make more money in a day than he does 
 in the next ten years." 
 
 This last speech raised a point which Nina knew 
 it would be vain to dispute. With a definite purpose 
 in view she met her father upon his own ground, and 
 said, good-humoredly : 
 
 " Painting is only a profession, papa, I know. But 
 Mr. Harvey buys pictures as an investment, and 
 makes money, too. Only last night George told me 
 that some of the sketches his father owns were worth 
 double the price paid for them a year ago." 
 
 " Indeed? I wish he may get it, that s all! " 
 
 " He has been offered it And Mr. Hemming has 
 just finished a large picture which, they say, is his 
 very best." 
 
 Mr. Stanwood shot at her a keen, inquiring glance; 
 21 
 
The Courage of Conviction 
 
 then dismissed his own conclusion as hasty and im 
 possible. 
 
 " It ought to be that," he said, dryly. " I advise 
 him to go on improving." 
 
 " Now if you were to buy it, papa 
 
 "Buy it? Are you crazy?" 
 
 " He only asks a thousand dollars, and 
 
 " A thousand dollars for a pot of paint! Why, damn 
 it, I might as well plaster the wall with greenbacks! 
 Look here, Nina, this painter is playing a deep game 
 with you. He s working on your feelings." 
 
 " Not at all, papa. That is a great mistake. He 
 knows nothing about it." 
 
 " Do you mean to tell me the idea s yours, then? " 
 
 "Certainly I do." 
 
 "Then I warn you to look out!" cried Mr. Stan- 
 wood, in a rage, while Nina started up in dismay. " I ve 
 seen it coming, and I won t have it. You are too 
 much interested in that young man. You encourage 
 him, and he will take advantage of it. He ll be mak 
 ing love to you next! Don t you never mention his 
 name to me again! " 
 
 " You have no sort of right to say such things ! " 
 retorted Nina, flying from the room in tears. 
 
 Mr. Stanwood, thus left to himself, stamped out his 
 fit of ill-temper in a very few minutes. Hitherto, he 
 had always been extremely careful to avoid the sub 
 ject of his daughter s possible marriage in any con- 
 
 22 
 
Cause and Effect 
 
 versation with her. Now, he had lost his head, as 
 it seemed to him, inexcusably. Even a reference to 
 any predilection on her part would have been unwise. 
 The threat of opposition into which he had drifted, he 
 felt to be a grave mistake. He went down town, not 
 only convinced of this, but already resolved to patch 
 up the mangled matter without delay, at their very 
 next interview, in fact. And he became anxious that 
 this interview should not be long deferred. He knew 
 Nina well enough to foresee that she would try to 
 avoid him for the next few days, on the plea of illness, 
 or otherwise. Such a course, which must tend to 
 widen the unlucky gap between them, he could not 
 leave open to her. By the time he reached his office 
 he saw his way clear, and entered upon it at once in 
 a note of apology for his violent speech, sent up town 
 by a special messenger. No answer came; but, at 
 dinner-time, Nina met him pleasantly, as usual. He 
 was glad to find that she had not appealed to her 
 mother, who remained in happy ignorance of their 
 disagreeable scene. After dinner, while he smoked 
 alone, Nina presented herself to thank him for his 
 note. Following out a carefully prepared plan, he 
 then hedged as much as he dared, mentioning no 
 names, but making his disapproval of the painter s 
 folly sufficiently obvious. After this tack, he sped 
 smoothly over a sea of glittering generalities, with a 
 statement of his belief that Nina had given no one 
 
 23 
 
The Courage of Conviction 
 
 encouragement, and would encourage only the right 
 man, at the right time, in the right way; her father 
 and her mother wished her to be happy, married or 
 single, she must understand that; he felt sure that 
 she would do nothing to cause them a moment s un 
 easiness. To all this Nina listened amiably, saying 
 little in reply, but making that little conciliatory in 
 its tone. There was a strong implication, moreover, 
 of contentment with the existing state of things, as 
 if she wished it clearly understood that she had no 
 expectation of marrying at present. This was very 
 soothing, and, after her affectionate good-night, Mr. 
 Stanwood congratulated himself upon his conduct of 
 a difficult case. It was always the business aspect 
 of a problem which presented itself to him, and he 
 felt that this one was now in a fair way of solution 
 upon good business principles. It pleased him espe 
 cially that the absurd suggestion of an investment in 
 Hemming s picture had been left out of the matter 
 altogether. 
 
 But Nina s mind had been busy all day upon this 
 very thing, and though she cunningly concealed her 
 train of thought, it was by no means abandoned; on 
 the contrary, she went to bed with a new purpose 
 which the pleasant little after-dinner talk had not 
 shaken in the least, the purpose, namely, of making 
 the proposed investment herself. In the matter of 
 an allowance her father had never been niggardly 
 
 24 
 
Cause and Effect 
 
 with her. She had money laid by, more to come in; 
 and an hour s consideration of her accounts satisfied 
 her that she could furnish the sum needed for the 
 picture. But this must be done secretly, as she decided, 
 because of her father s opposition, in the first place; 
 more than that, because his misconstruction of her 
 motive had warped the benevolent scheme into a sign 
 of tender encouragement. Nina assured herself, with 
 flaming cheeks, that the suspicion had been unfounded. 
 It was absurdly unjust, yet others might misconstrue 
 her in the same cruel way, if opportunity were granted 
 them. She would forestall the judgment of all such 
 evil-minded persons, of one other, too, who was not 
 evil-minded. Even Hemming, himself, should never 
 know that she had come into possession of his work. 
 Her name must not figure in the transaction at all. 
 
 The infusion of harmless mystery made the plan 
 doubly interesting to her. Yet it was necessary to 
 take someone into her confidence; and she wavered 
 a day or two longer between two or three old friends 
 whom she could surely trust, finally making a choice 
 which she felt was the wisest possible. 
 
Ill 
 
 THE TURN OF THE TIDE 
 
 MEANWHILE, Paul Hamming s abrupt retire 
 ment from business had been duly discussed 
 by all his friends and acquaintances; then, spreading 
 beyond this inner circle, the news was chronicled in 
 the papers, to become a theme for discussion among 
 the multitude who did not even know him by sight; 
 so that this purely personal matter began to assume 
 the prominence of a nine days wonder. In fact, sides 
 were taken which kept the interest alive even longer 
 than the term proverbially prescribed. On one hand 
 were those who frankly admired his resolution; on 
 the other those who pronounced his course rash, if 
 not absolutely foolish; and the latter formed an over 
 whelming majority. Hemming s unconsciousness of 
 the little storm he had developed amazed Gordon 
 Wise, who met the subject everywhere. He took a 
 firm stand in the minority, maintaining that his friend s 
 talent warranted the step, and would lead to a finan 
 cial success, the only form of triumph which counted 
 in an argument with the opposing faction. If the 
 argument grew heated, he sometimes added that he 
 was more than half inclined to take the same step 
 
 26 
 
The Turn of the Tide 
 
 himself. But as the days went on he prudently re 
 frained from setting this seal upon his enthusiasm. 
 Not that it had waned in the least, because he no 
 longer cared to make the personal application. It is 
 the commonest inconsistency in our nature to admire 
 sincerely the self-denial of others, without attempting 
 to practise it ourselves. Gordon Wise had decided 
 that he was not the man for the attempt, that was 
 all. 
 
 In his talk with Hemming at the Barringtons musi 
 cal party he had hinted at the force, which now, some 
 what abruptly, led him to this decision, even while 
 he, at first unwilling to own the spell that makes the 
 world go round, quieted his artistic conscience by 
 doubts of his ability. His doubts were really of a 
 different nature, as he presently discovered. He 
 awoke one morning to find himself dead in love with 
 Miss Nina Stanwood, and to sigh over what seemed 
 at the moment to be a particularly hopeless passion. 
 Not that she disliked him, so far as he could see; but 
 liking was by no means loving, in the first place; 
 furthermore, granting his power to win her, Gordon 
 Wise foresaw, on her father s part, opposition of the 
 fiercest sort to such a marriage. Old Anthony s heart 
 must be won over, too, a chilling thought to which, 
 by degrees, he grew almost accustomed. Their ac 
 quaintance was of the slightest, to be sure, but the 
 associations were business ones, not positively un- 
 
 27 
 
The Courage of Conviction 
 
 favorable. He was far from rich, and to a rich man 
 his prospects might appear of trifling value. Still, he 
 had prospects that could be definitely stated: he could 
 go to the old man with his statement, and an assur 
 ance of his willingness to work with redoubled energy, 
 in view of the prize at stake. That should be his 
 course, if the time for it ever came. And the time 
 might come, as he now perceived. With all this in 
 his mind there was no room left for the improvident 
 idea of pursuing an art which had no commercial bear 
 ing whatever, and he ceased to consider it. But, nat 
 urally, he kept his own counsel regarding the new 
 aims which had crowded it out. He held in readiness 
 certain non-committal speeches, in case Hemming 
 should renew his attack upon him. The attack, how 
 ever, was not renewed. Hemming had said his say, 
 and determined to let his example speak for him. 
 Yet there was reproach in his silence, as Gordon Wise 
 well knew. 
 
 One day, going for luncheon into a down-town 
 restaurant, he saw Anthony Stanwood eating at a 
 small table, alone. The room was crowded, and Wise, 
 crossing to the vacant seat, asked permission to oc 
 cupy it. The old man received him graciously. Left 
 to himself oftener than not in such public places, he 
 was really glad to have a companion, and took some 
 pains to show it. Gordon Wise met him more than 
 half way. It was not in human nature to forget that 
 
 28 
 
The Turn of the Tide 
 
 he was dealing with a powerful factor in his fate. 
 Almost involuntarily his manner toward his possible 
 father-in-law grew tactfully deferential. Mr. Stanwood 
 expanded under this blending of subtle influences, and, 
 saying to himself that here was a sensible sort of chap 
 with a clear head on his young shoulders, gave Wise 
 a cigar; then, as they lingered smoking over the table, 
 he actually dropped a hint of an investment, which 
 Wise noted and acted upon promptly, much, as it 
 proved, to his advantage. Mentioning this a day or 
 two afterward, when Mr. Stanwood, of his own ac 
 cord, turned the tables by lunching with him, Wise 
 thought that his reputation for shrewdness had suf 
 fered no loss in consequence. The two lunched to 
 gether again, as a matter of course, and their growing 
 intimacy was observed by some of Wise s friends, who 
 inquired satirically what sort of deal he was work 
 ing with the Winnipeg King. He smiled, and said 
 nothing, but his conscious air suggested that the 
 " deal " had a mysterious importance, too deep for 
 words. And this was precisely the case. 
 
 During the next few weeks Wise met Miss Stan- 
 wood frequently, and exerted himself to pay her small 
 attentions. But other men did the same; it seemed 
 to him that she treated all alike, without the smallest 
 distinguishing mark of preference. Watching anxiously 
 for some sign to justify a declaration, he passed from 
 love s first symptoms to an acute stage of the disease, 
 
 29 
 
The Courage of Conviction 
 
 until no reader of the heart could have doubted that 
 his love was deep and entirely sincere. In her pres 
 ence he grew ill at ease. When she was absent, her 
 lightest words, remembered and repeated, revealed to 
 him new charms of character slowly unfolding like a 
 lovely flower. Her defects, transmuted by the alchemy 
 which lovers use, became so many beauties; even that 
 cardinal one, her imperfect sympathy with music, he 
 regarded now as a proof of sincerity. Much hack 
 neyed nonsense about his art passed current for musi 
 cal knowledge in the fashionable world; if she dis 
 dained it all and would take no part in it, was she 
 not so much the more to be admired? 
 
 Nina s most intimate friend was Suzette Brinkley, 
 the girl with whom Gordon Wise had first seen her 
 in Mrs. Barrington s music-room. Miss Brinkley was 
 the daughter of Barrington s cousin, a distinguished 
 physician, justly renowned for his professional skill, 
 and singularly free from those natural weaknesses 
 which success too often brings to the surface. His 
 
 was 
 
 " A nature sloping to the southern side," 
 
 with no shadowy recesses to harbor vanity and other 
 petty vices of the great. He was amiable, generous, 
 considerate, kindly in all relations of life. Fortune 
 had always smiled upon him, and he returned her 
 smile most genially. His very presence had a sunny 
 warmth, of which he appeared to be quite unconscious. 
 
 30 
 
The Turn of the Tide 
 
 In person he was round and fair and rosy, with thick 
 hair, closely clipped, turning white at the temples; but 
 his big yellow mustache bore no such hall-mark of 
 experience, and his blue eyes, undimmed, still kept 
 their boyish twinkle. He had turned fifty, but his 
 contemporaries declared that he did them gross in 
 justice. When, they asked, would he pay them proper 
 respect by beginning to grow old? 
 
 The ladies had left the table, and Dr. Brinkley, hav 
 ing supplied his guests with cigars, started the Madeira 
 upon its second round. It had been a dinner of twelve. 
 Four of the six men were comfortably engaged in 
 talk, so he moved nearer to Gordon Wise, who had 
 turned his chair toward the wall behind him, where 
 hung a small picture representing two figures in a 
 trellised garden by the sea. 
 
 "That s a Hemming," said Dr. Brinkley; "one of 
 his early things. I bought it because I fancied that 
 the girl had a sort of likeness to Suzette. Of course, 
 it was an accident, a suggestion rather than a re 
 semblance." 
 
 "I see!" Wise answered. "I thought that must 
 be Hemming s. What talent he has! " And, without 
 knowing it, he sighed. 
 
 "Why did you sigh?" asked his host, smiling. 
 " Do you doubt Hemming s staying power ? " 
 
 "On the contrary!" said Wise, evading the first 
 question in a prompt reply to the second. " He has 
 
 31 
 
The Courage of Conviction 
 
 tremendous energy, as well as courage. He must suc 
 ceed." 
 
 " I hope so, very heartily. Yet I wish his courage 
 were a little less Quixotic. I like him so much that 
 I want him to be both successful and happy, or, 
 rather, happy first and successful afterward." 
 
 " Does not one state involve the other, for the 
 artist? " inquired Wise. 
 
 " Perhaps," said Dr. Brinkley, twisting his mus 
 tache, meditatively. " But absolute success in art or 
 in a profession comes late. Meanwhile, meanwhile, 
 there is the struggle for existence, which I fear that 
 Hemming does not fully realize. He is young; he 
 has fire and enthusiasm, but very little money to fall 
 back upon, I believe." 
 
 " Very little." 
 
 " Exactly. It will be a hard fight, then, and he 
 ought not to fight alone. If he leads an ascetic life, 
 both he and his work must suffer; if he goes to the 
 other extreme, why, that form of existence is not liv 
 ing. I don t want to see him turn fortune-hunter. 
 But a good wife with moderate means helps a man 
 in every way. There are many such girls to be had; 
 Hemming has only to choose." 
 
 " He does not intend to marry," Wise replied. 
 
 "No, of course not!" pursued the other, impa 
 tiently. " He has raised the standard of independence; 
 he intends to forswear the world. I could not even 
 
 32 
 
The Turn of the Tide 
 
 get him here to-night. He declined, on the ground 
 that he was going nowhere. That s all wrong! Now, 
 I wonder whose glove that is!" 
 
 Gordon Wise had already picked up the glove from 
 the floor, and was thoughtfully pulling its slender 
 fingers into shape. " Miss Stanwood s, I think," said 
 he. " This was her chair, next mine." 
 
 " Yes, it must be hers. There s a girl, now, just 
 the wife for Hemming. I don t see what you boys 
 are thinking about. We were made of different stuff 
 in our day." 
 
 " We all think well of Miss Stanwood, you may be 
 sure," said Wise, laughing. " Even Hemming would 
 agree to that." 
 
 "No, he wouldn t, confound him! It was mainly 
 on her account that I wanted him to-night. I had 
 my reasons, and I flung her at his head; but it made 
 no difference. That s what I mean by calling his cour 
 age Quixotic. Tell him that it is a serious mistake." 
 
 " Why not tell him, yourself ? " 
 
 " Damn it, man, I have told him! " cried Dr. Brink- 
 ley, laughing at his own excitement in the matter. 
 " But he seems to have no respect for my opinion. 
 Yours might weigh more; you stand nearer to him, 
 nearer, I think, than anyone else. Tell him not to 
 be a fool, and perhaps he will listen to you." 
 
 " I will do what I can, gladly," said Wise. But 
 
 " Good! " said the host, puffing at his half-smoked 
 
 33 
 
The Courage of Conviction 
 
 cigar, to find that it had gone out. He laid it down 
 after a swift glance around the table, and then pushed 
 back his chair. " Shall we go up to the drawing- 
 room?" said he. 
 
 Wise crossed directly to Miss Stanwood, and re 
 turned her glove. But, finding that Dr. Brinkley had 
 followed him, he moved away in a moment for a talk 
 with Miss Brinkley, whose seat at table had been 
 remote from his. Suzette combined her father s cheery 
 temperament with a beauty less of feature than of 
 style, inherited from her mother. She was a piquant, if 
 somewhat perplexing, young woman of great vivacity, 
 never at a loss for words. She soon lured her present 
 companion into an absorbing argument that came to 
 an end indeterminately, as the party broke up. Wise 
 was almost the last to take leave, and he walked home 
 alone. The little fencing-match which had just en 
 gaged his wits sank into insignificance. His mind re 
 verted to a long talk at dinner with Miss Stanwood, 
 who had shown, as he believed, keener interest than 
 ever before in him ; and this seemed a hopeful sign. 
 Then, remembering how Dr. Brinkley had linked her 
 name with Hemming s, he dismissed, at first, the alarm 
 ing possibility thus suggested as too absurd for serious 
 consideration. " Paul has no marriage intentions, I ll 
 swear! " he thought. " Yet Brinkley had his reasons; 
 what were they, I should like to know? " The phrase, 
 when spoken, was scarcely noticed; but now Miss 
 
 34 
 
The Turn of the Tide 
 
 Stanwood s lover found a dreadful portent lurking in 
 it, and it disturbed him not a little. " He had his 
 reasons, he had his reasons. That meant something. 
 Has she confided in Dr. Brinkley, or given him, un 
 consciously, some clue? Is it Hemming whom she 
 loves?" 
 
 So, letting his imagination loose, Gordon Wise went 
 on to pass a wretched night, haunted by jealous fears 
 like many a timid lover before him. One short, direct 
 question would set his doubts, new and old, at rest; 
 but he dared not ask it, yet. 
 
 Meanwhile, the lights were put out in the Brinkleys 
 drawing-room ; but the doctor and his wife sat up for 
 a while by their chamber-fire, comparing notes of the 
 dinner, which seemed, on the whole, to have gone 
 off well. 
 
 " The mushrooms were a success, I think," said 
 Mrs. Brinkley. " We must cook them again in that 
 way. I wonder who made that gown of Nina s. Her 
 clothes sometimes look as if they had been flung at 
 her. But this was a perfect fit, and really quite be 
 coming." 
 
 " What color was it? " her husband asked. 
 
 " Why, George ! Do you mean to say that you ve 
 been talking to her for the last hour, and don t 
 know ? " 
 
 " By the way," said the doctor, dismissing his de 
 fective observation as unimportant. " Nina wants to 
 
 35 
 
The Courage of Conviction 
 
 look at Hemming s work. Will you take her, some 
 afternoon, to his studio ? " 
 
 "Has Mr. Hemming invited us?" 
 
 "No; but he will, if you ask him to do so. He 
 has just finished a large picture, which he will be 
 glad to show you. I should like to have you see it." 
 
 " Very well, then, I will write to him to-morrow." 
 
 " I told her that you would. So that s off my mind." 
 Then the doctor tossed his cigar into the fire, sprang 
 up, threw aside his coat, and walked toward his dress 
 ing-room, humming a tune as he went. At the door 
 he stopped. 
 
 " To-morrow," he repeated. " We re dining out 
 somewhere to-morrow, aren t we?" 
 
 "Yes; with the Longs." 
 
 " The Longs, yes," said the doctor, bending over 
 his wife s writing-desk, on which stood her engage 
 ment-list in a leather frame. "Oh, Lord! It will 
 be duller than a New England Sabbath! " 
 
 "George!!" 
 
IV 
 
 TWO days later, Gordon Wise, passing by chance 
 within a block of his friend s studio, remem 
 bered that he had a small mission to perform there. 
 This mission, as he interpreted the promise made Dr. 
 Brinkley, involved merely a serious effort on his 
 part to overcome Hemming s indifference toward the 
 world at large, without reference to any one person 
 in particular. But as he knocked at the painter s 
 door, he could not help wondering if the doctor had 
 really meant that he should bring Miss Stanwood into 
 his argument, directly or indirectly. Were this the 
 case, Dr. Brinkley had retained the wrong advocate. 
 No man could be expected to work against himself, 
 least of all, in matters of the heart. And if Hem 
 ming loved her, he stood in no need of a prompter. 
 
 Hemming, who had stopped work for the day, wel 
 comed his friend warmly, and, making a place for 
 him among the heaped-up cushions of the divan under 
 his north window, brought pipes and tobacco. 
 
 " I am very glad that you happened to come in, 
 Gordon," said he, " for I was on the point of writing 
 to you. In the first place, I want your help here on 
 
 37 
 
The Courage of Conviction 
 
 Friday afternoon. I have asked Mrs. Brinkley, with 
 one or two other pleasant women." 
 
 "Good! You may count on me," said Wise, with 
 a quizzical look, in which surprise and amusement 
 were both perceptible ; for his intended caution against 
 injudicious retirement from the world seemed, all at 
 once, to be quite unnecessary. "A tea-party? Isn t 
 that, unusual? " 
 
 " Yes," admitted the painter, laughing. " But I 
 want to take leave of you decently and in good order. 
 I am going abroad, you see." 
 
 " Going abroad? " echoed Wise, in a startled tone. 
 " For how long, pray? " 
 
 " For a year, at least. That was the bit of news I 
 meant to write you. I have sold the Tithonus, un 
 expectedly, at my own price, that is all." 
 
 Gordon Wise expressed his amazement by a wreath 
 of smoke puffed straight out before him. " To 
 whom?" he asked. 
 
 " To a Chicago magnate whom I never saw, and 
 whose name means nothing to me. He is a friend 
 of Dr. Brinkley, who acted as intermediary, taking no 
 end of trouble in the matter. It is a great piece of 
 luck." 
 
 " So it is. I congratulate you. But when do you 
 go?" 
 
 " At once, next week. The unusual tea-party 
 is really my farewell." 
 
 38 
 
Art s Firm Votary 
 
 " Good! I am sure this is a wise move, which will 
 broaden you and clinch your hold upon the public. 
 But you will have to work hard, Paul, to beat the 
 Tithonus. Is that the picture over there? Let me 
 have another look at it, won t you?" 
 
 While Hemming crossed the room to uncover his 
 work, Wise glanced at a small book which lay open 
 on the divan beside him, tossed down there, evidently, 
 at the moment of his knock. It was a volume of 
 Wordsworth, with one leaf turned in at the sonnet to 
 Haydon on Creative Art, beginning " High is our 
 calling, Friend!" Wise knew the lines, but their 
 meaning came home to him now, as never before. 
 Here was a friend already engaged in the noble strug 
 gle they expressed. " Great is the glory, for the strife 
 is hard! " Hemming had plunged into the strife fear 
 lessly; there lay the path of glory, even though it led 
 only to defeat. 
 
 "There you are!" cried the painter, wheeling an 
 easel forward into the clearer light. " I have worked 
 it up a little; but I dared not do much, and now, 
 for good or ill, it is signed and varnished, as you 
 see." 
 
 The youthful, heroic figure, firmly modelled, stood 
 alone in a wide landscape, through which the fragment 
 of a ruined temple rose against the sky. A purple 
 robe lay at his feet, where he had flung down his 
 shield. He leaned upon his spear, turning to hail the 
 
 39 
 
The Courage of Conviction 
 
 dawn that flooded all the background; and though the 
 face was more than half concealed, his attitude de 
 noted eager expectation. The pose, very happily 
 conceived, combined grace with dignity. Light, air, 
 and color seemed to mingle in the splendid distance, 
 giving the whole composition a fine, poetic quality 
 which outweighed mere skill of technique. The am 
 bitious scheme in its execution still left something to 
 be desired. But if not a masterpiece, this, even to 
 the trained, professional eye, was extremely interest 
 ing work strong, harmonious, unconventional. 
 
 Gordon Wise, though he made no pretension to 
 connoisseurship, cared much for pictures, and, with 
 some knowledge of the best, could speak of them in 
 telligently. He sat down now before the easel, reiter 
 ating his high opinion of his friend s talent, noting 
 enthusiastically certain details that pleased him. 
 
 " I hope that s all true," said Hemming, smiling at 
 the not too impartial criticism, " and that I may not 
 want to paint it all out when I come back." 
 
 " In the light of such a possibility, I protest against 
 your going," Wise replied. " A little Europe is a 
 dangerous thing." 
 
 " Come with me, then, and protect me against my 
 self, to say nothing of the dead masters. Come! You 
 can t do better." 
 
 " I agree to that. Yet I am forced into doing worse, 
 just now." 
 
 40 
 
Art s Firm Votary 
 
 " But now is the only moment. Think of the hit 
 you have made ! Think of Stahlberg ! " 
 
 " My dear Paul, art hath bubbles as the water has, 
 and these are of them." 
 
 " Decidedly, you will not leap into the flood! " said 
 Hemming, with a sigh. 
 
 " Some time I may. At present I am fettered by 
 an infernal prudence, and by no matter! Call me 
 anything you like, and be thankful that you re not 
 like me. Good-by, old man. I ll see you on Friday 
 with the women! " So, somewhat abruptly, the com 
 rades parted. 
 
 When Wise returned to the studio on the day in 
 dicated the small company of invited guests, includ 
 ing the Brinkleys, the Barringtons, and, of course, 
 Miss Stanwood, had already assembled. A bowl of 
 fresh violets stood upon the table, and the bright, airy 
 room had been swept and garnished in honor of the 
 " Tithonus," which, occupying the central place, was 
 duly admired and, according to the painter s inward 
 judgment, overpraised. Thankful that he had asked 
 but a dozen friends in all, Hemming longed to escape 
 from their fine phrases, which must be due, in some 
 measure, to civility; yet when Barrington took him 
 aside to buy his first rough sketch for the picture on 
 the spot, the material advantages of such a private 
 view as this were at once apparent. Dr. Brinkley, 
 who had secretly incited his cousin to make the pur- 
 
 41 
 
The Courage of Conviction 
 
 chase, saw what was going forward, and his spirits 
 rose in consequence, setting a lively pace, which all 
 took up. 
 
 As the northern light faded a little and the tea went 
 round, the party grew merrier, and Gordon Wise, 
 looking with a lover s eyes, found Miss Stanwood the 
 soul of it. Never, thought he, was she so radiantly 
 beautiful. All the quaint equipments of the studio 
 excited her keenest interest; she insisted upon holding 
 the palette, upon trying the brushes, and laughed at 
 the awkwardness of her attempt to handle them. She 
 asked curious questions concerning the decorative 
 objects scattered about, and when she moved aside 
 to examine one of these more closely, Wise joined 
 her. They went on from point to point, at last sitting 
 down together in a corner which commanded a very 
 good view of the picture that they had come to see. 
 Miss Stanwood turned toward it again, with sincere 
 admiration. 
 
 " What happiness to do a thing like that ! " said she. 
 " Out of a clear sky with one s own unaided effort ! 
 The more I look at it the finer it seems to be." 
 
 " Yes," Wise agreed, " he has put his heart into 
 this picture, and now it brings him the reward." 
 
 " What do you mean ? " 
 
 " The sale of it enables him to go abroad." 
 
 " Ah ! indeed ? I did not understand this, I did 
 not know 
 
 42 
 
Art s Firm Votary 
 
 " You knew that he was going? " 
 
 " Yes; but not that his journey had depended upon 
 the sale of this picture. Is he to be long away? " 
 
 Turning, as she asked this, Nina Stanwood thought 
 that she detected in her companion s face a look which 
 she had never seen there before, an attentive look, 
 as if he were interested in watching her. She had 
 an excellent reason for wishing to appear uncon 
 cerned, and gave no sign of self-consciousness. His 
 intent expression passed off, and she concluded, a 
 moment later, that it had existed only in her own 
 imagination. 
 
 " I do not know," Wise answered. " I think he 
 does not know himself; he stands pledged, body and 
 soul, to his art. If his career demands it, he will stay 
 away, indefinitely. He has passed the turning-point, 
 and is beyond the reach of other considerations. This 
 attitude toward the rest of us his success with the Ti- 
 thonus confirms. He is like a monk in a cloister, 
 and we, who stand outside the gate, can only ap 
 plaud his strength of purpose, as I do most heartily. 
 Yet I could not be like him if I tried." 
 
 "Is that what art means?" asked Nina, gravely. 
 " Is there no way to succeed in it but that? " 
 
 " No half way, surely. It has always been a fight 
 since time was. Now it is a fight against fearful odds, 
 requiring the closest concentration. Paul understands 
 this, and accepts the conditions." 
 
 43 
 
The Courage of Conviction 
 
 Nina stirred in her place and tapped her foot im 
 patiently. " I don t like it ! " she declared in a tone 
 of vexation. " It is all so narrow and so selfish. The 
 world is not a cloister. If we are bound to make 
 our way in it, we are bound to think now and then 
 of others." 
 
 " Of others," repeated Wise, with a smile. " Why, 
 what else is Paul doing? Look at his work, which 
 gives us all the deepest pleasure. It s a case of pre 
 destination. The elements in him have conspired to 
 make that his mission. For Heaven s sake, let him 
 go on and fulfil it ! " 
 
 Nina looked once more at the glowing canvas, which 
 seemed to plead a silent argument in favor of art s 
 sacrifices. " Yes, I suppose that is all true!" she 
 sighed. " And yet Just then there came a pre 
 monitory stir of departure in the room. It was evi 
 dent that the little party must now break up. " They 
 are going," she said, rising to put on her veil; " I 
 must go, too." 
 
 She moved forward with Wise into the chattering 
 group, which, after one or two false starts, still lin 
 gered as such groups will. Hemming delayed it 
 further by distributing his violets among the ladies. 
 When this was done Dr. Brinkley plucked him by 
 the sleeve. 
 
 "When do you sail?" he asked. 
 
 " In four days on Wednesday. By the way, give 
 44 
 
Art s Firm Votary 
 
 me directions about the Tithonus. It must be 
 packed, you know. Where am I to send it? " 
 
 " Ah, precisely," the doctor answered. " Let me 
 attend to that, if you will. I want to enter it for the 
 spring exhibition, which opens here next month. 
 There can be no objection to that, I suppose, cer 
 tainly not from my purchaser." 
 
 " Nor from me, you may be sure," said Hemming, 
 laughing. 
 
 " Very well, then, send it round to me. I will 
 assume all responsibilities on behalf of the owner, and 
 when the exhibition closes will see that it is forwarded 
 to Chicago." 
 
 " Good ! You shall have it to-morrow. Once more, 
 a thousand thanks for all your kindness in this busi 
 ness." 
 
 " Good-by ! " said Dr. Brinkley, shaking his hand 
 warmly. 
 
 " Good-by ! " echoed the others in a general chorus. 
 
 There were more last words at the street-door, to 
 which Hemming followed them. Then a final wave 
 of the hand from each of the carriages as it drove 
 away. He watched the last one turn the corner, and 
 went slowly back to the silent studio, which looked 
 cold and gray in the gathering twilight. 
 
 "How sweet those violets were!" he thought. 
 " The air is heavy with them still." Then he saw 
 that a handful of the flowers still lay on a corner of 
 
 45 
 
The Courage of Conviction 
 
 the table, where they had been left, for the moment 
 apparently, by one of his guests, and forgotten. He 
 smiled, wondering to whom they belonged; and, as 
 he took them up, a carriage rolled into the quiet street; 
 it stopped before his door. He sprang to the window 
 in time to see a woman, whose face he could not dis 
 tinguish, entering the house. Light steps passed up 
 the stairs, and, anticipating her knock, he met on 
 the threshold Miss Nina Stanwood. She broke into a 
 gentle, rippling laugh at seeing her violets in Hem- 
 ming s hand. 
 
 "Ah! you found them! Forgive me; it was very 
 stupid. I could not bear to leave them behind." 
 
 " Come in please do! " he urged. " You are quite 
 out of breath. For a moment s rest, if only for a 
 moment." 
 
 His insistence overcame her hesitation, and she 
 stepped forward into the room timidly, with a curious 
 glance through her veil at its dim, remote corners, as 
 if she were seeing the place for the first time. He 
 wheeled up a chair, but she only leaned against it, 
 smiling and extending her hand for the flowers. When 
 he gave them to her, she bent over the fragrant petals. 
 
 " Thank you for coming back," said he; " it was so 
 much to do for so little." 
 
 " I may as well confess the truth at once," she re 
 plied, tremulously. " I left the violets here on pur 
 pose." 
 
 46 
 
Art s Firm Votary 
 
 " Thank you all the more ! " he returned, concealing 
 his surprise with an effort. 
 
 " I wanted, you see, to ask a favor of you, a great 
 favor, one that you will not grant, I am afraid, 
 but 
 
 " Go on! " he said, after a moment s pause, in which 
 he wondered more and more. " What is the favor? 
 I will grant it, if I can; if not, I will say so frankly." 
 
 " Mr. Wise has told me what your work means to 
 you," she answered. " I understand that you must 
 take time, and thought, and concentration to do your 
 best. I know the importance of this, but I cannot 
 think it should be all-important. I think, on the con 
 trary, that to make it so would be a terrible mistake." 
 
 " All-important? It should be everything. There 
 can be no half way 
 
 "Yes, yes; he said so!" she interposed, hastily. 
 " But look at this picture, which we have all admired. 
 It has sold well, they say; it is a triumph. The work 
 involved sacrifices, but not overwhelming ones; they 
 did not cut you off wholly from the world. If you 
 make yourself the galley-slave of art, what will you 
 gain by it? Here is the Tithonus. You can t do 
 better." 
 
 " Not do better? " he cried, with rising irritation. 
 " Why, I live only for that ! This picture is a mere 
 beginning. The men who really know would laugh 
 at it. Give me the years I need among them, and 
 
 47 
 
The Courage of Conviction 
 
 I shall long to cut it from the frame. It is half- 
 knowledge which kills us here. I must have more, or 
 nothing. Not do better? Wait and see! " 
 
 " I see that it is hopeless," she said, in a disap 
 pointed tone, moving toward the door as she spoke. 
 " Your mind is made up, and no argument will in 
 fluence it. To ask my favor now would be a waste 
 of time." 
 
 " You need not, for I am sure that I know it with 
 out the asking. You were going to beg me to re 
 consider my plans and change them; to stay here and 
 work upon the self-same lines; to paint my Tithonus 
 over again, and after that another, and still another." 
 
 " And would this seem to you a great misfortune ? " 
 
 " The greatest, even supposing that it were pos 
 sible. Not to advance is to go backward. If I am 
 ever to do anything of real value, the course I have 
 chosen is the wisest. In fact, it is the only one." 
 
 " I see," she answered, with a change of manner, 
 slight yet significant. " You have chosen. Please 
 remember that I asked you nothing." Her hand was 
 already at the door, which, now, she opened. 
 
 " Wait a moment! " he pleaded. " I am very sorry. 
 And I am grateful, most grateful, for your interest in 
 my work. Surely, you understand that," he added, 
 holding out his hand. 
 
 She clasped it for an instant, lightly. " Oh, we shall 
 always take the same interest, wherever you are. We 
 
 48 
 
Art s Firm Votary 
 
 shall always wish for it the highest honors. No, you 
 must not come down! " And she was gone, fluttering 
 through the lower darkness as if her feet were winged. 
 He heard the clang of the outer door, the sharp snap 
 of the carriage-door beyond it, the rumble of the 
 wheels all in the same swift moment, as it seemed, 
 while he stood staring at the unlighted staircase. It 
 had been too dark to see her face, but he would have 
 sworn that her gloved hand had trembled, that her 
 voice had trembled, too, in that final speech, so per 
 functory as almost to be indifferent. " We! " he 
 repeated, bitterly. We ! : Clearly, she was of 
 fended. The thought gave him a sharp pang which 
 he had never known before. He resisted it, resented 
 it; yet it returned again and again that night, until, 
 long before morning, he had resolved to see her once 
 more and make his peace with her. But when morn 
 ing came he busied himself with preparations for de 
 parture, and the resolution melted away. What fur 
 ther could he say or do? He did not call, he sent 
 no word, and, without seeing her again, he sailed on 
 the appointed day. 
 
 49 
 
V 
 
 UNDER CHARITABLE STARS 
 
 T~\ ISCERNING persons who had the opportunity 
 -* of forming an opinion in the matter often de 
 clared that Dr. Brinkley, fortunate in many things, 
 was thrice fortunate in his wife. Before marriage, 
 as Susan Leslie, by ready wit and unfailing tact she 
 had swiftly made good her claim to the enviable 
 social position she inherited, becoming later through 
 out her large circle of acquaintances an acknowledged 
 leader,- with no effort on her part toward that dis 
 tinction. When she married, her title to it was at 
 once confirmed. She had sufficient worldliness to 
 enjoy the duties incumbent upon her, and to perform 
 them well. But she was a woman of fine tastes and 
 strong sympathies, by no means superficial, neither 
 self-centred nor assuming. The husband and wife who 
 live in perfect accord grow to resemble each other, 
 as is well known. And Susan Brinkley had grown 
 very like her husband, lacking his repose and strength, 
 to be sure, but substituting for these certain feminine 
 subtleties which he had not. Many liked her, all re 
 spected her; and her influence widened with his, until 
 she might have been called a power in the community; 
 
 50 
 
Under Charitable Stars 
 
 a power, however, exerted always for good ends, never 
 abused, controlling more by suggestion and example 
 than by authoritative force. 
 
 It was thus both natural and desirable that Mrs. 
 Brinkley s name should figure prominently in the lists 
 of many organized charities; and when a certain chil 
 dren s hospital needed a large sum of money, she was, 
 of course, among the first consulted as to the best 
 means of raising it. After one or two meetings she 
 found the matter left practically in her hands, the re 
 sult being that she undertook to get up an amateur 
 dramatic performance on a stated afternoon in a theatre 
 hired for the occasion. She assumed the responsi 
 bility of this decision not without misgiving. For, 
 in order to draw the town, novelty had been deemed 
 essential in any scheme adopted; and there was, alas, 
 nothing novel in the proposed amateur theatricals ex 
 cept their semi-public character. The exception, 
 undeniably slight, turned the scale that way. Since 
 none of the chosen performers had ever appeared on 
 a real stage with real scenery, especially, perhaps, since 
 a fair, the one obvious alternative, had been eloquently 
 attacked by a member of the committee, who declared 
 that she had dragged herself through fairs and fairs 
 and fairs, until she was fairly worn out. This speech 
 settled the question. The plays were selected, the 
 rehearsals began under the eye of a professional stage- 
 manager, and the administration of all matters before 
 
The Courage of Conviction 
 
 the curtain, " in front," as the manager expressed 
 it, was given to Mrs. Brinkley. 
 
 That no means of drawing the town might be neg 
 lected, she prepared an imposing list of lady-pa 
 tronesses, who were all instructed to look their best, 
 with the view of making the audience itself a sight 
 worth seeing. She put an exorbitant price upon the 
 tickets, and arranged that the boxes should be sold 
 at auction. But with these details irrevocably fixed, 
 as the day of the sale approached, Mrs. Brinkley was 
 haunted by a possibility of failure. Would the town 
 rise to its great opportunity of seeing two or three 
 hackneyed plays indifferently well acted under irre 
 proachable patronage? The theatre was large, the 
 outlay enormous, and, unless the public rallied with 
 enthusiasm, the accounts would show little profit; 
 perhaps even a loss. It was late in the season, to 
 begin with; then, too, the entertainment lacked nov 
 elty. She had always said so, and now she felt it in 
 her bones. This osseous premonition led to sleepless 
 nights, which produced low spirits. Her husband in 
 vain implored her to be hopeful. She replied that it 
 was best to look the worst in the face, and found her 
 only satisfaction in doing so. 
 
 Such was the troubled state of Mrs. Brinkley s mind 
 one morning at the breakfast-table, where she sat lost 
 in thought, while the doctor plunged into his news 
 paper and sipped his coffee between the paragraphs. 
 
 52 
 
Under Charitable Stars 
 
 Then came the post, bringing her many letters, which 
 she welcomed as a distraction, only to find that most 
 of these involved her in new perplexities over the 
 all-important subject. She brushed them aside, and 
 took up one of more promise, bearing a French post 
 mark. It was, in fact, from one of her intimate friends, 
 who had been for some time abroad. 
 
 "A foreign letter, Sue? " asked Dr. Brinkley, look 
 ing up. 
 
 " Yes, from Alice Heath, in Paris. There, we ought 
 to have done that ! " she answered mysteriously as she 
 turned the sheet. 
 
 " Done what, my dear? " 
 
 " She has been to a bazaar, George ; a great suc 
 cess it was. We might have had one for the hospital, 
 instead of these awful theatricals." 
 
 Dr. Brinkley looked puzzled. " What is a bazaar? " 
 he inquired. 
 
 " Why, a sale. Don t be stupid, George! The thing 
 they have in Turkey, shops full of delightful little 
 objects with the prices marked on them!" 
 
 "How does it differ from a fair, then? I thought 
 you ruled that out very wisely." 
 
 " Well, it is a kind of fair, I suppose; but the name 
 is new, and that goes a great way. Then there are 
 all sorts of new features," said Mrs. Brinkley, return 
 ing to her letter. " It must have been lovely, as Alice 
 describes it. I declare, we might do that ourselves! 
 Oh, I ve got it, George!" 
 
 53 
 
The Courage of Conviction 
 
 " I congratulate you heartily, if it is something 
 worth having. What is it, please?" 
 
 " The way to make this affair of ours an over 
 whelming success!" his wife almost screamed in her 
 excitement. " There is ample time, and I shall just take 
 a leaf out of Alice s letter, that s all! " Then, to her 
 daughter, who came in at the moment, she added: 
 " Suzette, listen to me! " and went on to explain her 
 hastily formed scheme of incorporating with her char 
 itable entertainment some important features of the 
 Parisian bazaar. There were to be flower-girls in cos 
 tume offering their wares between the acts; pro 
 grammes distributed at the door by two well-known 
 leaders of fashion; tea served in the lobby by other 
 distinguished persons, young and old. In fifteen 
 minutes, while the doctor contemplated his eager 
 family with a wondering smile, the whole plan was 
 drawn up, and Mrs. Brinkley at last breathed freely. 
 She had hit upon the much-desired novelty for which 
 she had groped so long in the dark. No one could 
 doubt that these side-issues of the show, properly 
 advertised, would give it a distinctive character, would 
 contribute much in themselves to swell the treasurer s 
 receipts, and, above all, would draw the town. 
 
 When the curtain rose for the first time, on the great 
 afternoon, Mrs. Brinkley sat in her box, pale and tired 
 yet inwardly triumphant, congratulating herself over 
 and over again upon the successful issue of her labors. 
 
 54 
 
Under Charitable Stars 
 
 Her wildest hopes were outdone, for the town had 
 snapped at its bait, and the theatre was crowded to 
 suffocation ; the large sum already assured to the hos 
 pital would be increased by the sale of flowers, returns 
 from which were still to come in. That happy after 
 thought of hers, approved by the committee, had been 
 well worked out to the advantage of all concerned. The 
 flower-girls (among whom her own daughter and 
 Miss Nina Stanwood were pleasantly conspicuous), 
 uniformly dressed in a most becoming way, found so 
 ready a market that their first supply of roses was 
 nearly exhausted. Whatever critical verdict awaited 
 the performance, all financial problems connected with 
 it were now gloriously solved. 
 
 The first play passed off very smoothly, all things 
 considered, and when the recalls were over, the flower- 
 market opened again. Suzette fluttered in for a mo 
 ment, all aglow. 
 
 " Oh, mamma ! It s such fun ! I have made forty 
 dollars, and look ! Not a single rose left ! " Her 
 mother, after thoughtfully adjusting Suzette s cap and 
 muslin apron, stated where the wicker tray, which she 
 carried, could be replenished ; and the girl hurried 
 away. Then Gordon Wise, who was one of the ushers, 
 appeared at the door of the box , showing in Dr. 
 Brinkley, flushed with the struggle of his late arrival, 
 yet wearing a splendid rose-bud in his button-hole. 
 
 " Where did you get that, George? " his wife asked. 
 55 
 
The Courage of Conviction 
 
 " There ! " he replied, indicating Nina Stanwood, 
 who came slowly down one of the aisles, offering her 
 flowers right and left. 
 
 " Oh, from Nina ! The dress suits her, doesn t it ? " 
 
 " Yes," he agreed, following with his eyes the cos 
 tume and its wearer, while his brow wrinkled expres 
 sively. Then he said : " I wish I understood your sex a 
 little better, Sue." 
 
 She turned upon him with a merry look. " What on 
 earth do you mean ? " she asked. 
 
 " I was thinking of that pretty girl there, who inter 
 ests me immensely, handicapped as she has been in 
 many ways. I wonder what sentence is reserved for 
 her in this world s judgment-book ; a few weeks ago I 
 hoped it would be a light one ; I thought her happy 
 future assured, so far as the assurance of an elusive 
 quantity is possible. But now I can t help fearing that 
 I was wholly wrong." 
 
 " Why, George ! " cried Mrs. Brinkley, immensely 
 interested now, herself. " Pray how had you settled 
 Nina s fate? Tell me!" 
 
 The doctor laughed. " My wish was at the bottom of 
 it all, I suppose, for I like the man extremely. I hoped 
 she would marry Paul Hemming. I had reason to 
 think that she took uncommon interest in him. And 
 now, when his name is mentioned, she won t listen to 
 it. Either the interest had no real existence, or it has 
 undergone a change." 
 
 56 
 
Under Charitable Stars 
 
 " Oh ! And did you think that Paul Hemming cared 
 for her?" 
 
 " Yes. I fancied so, certainly." 
 
 " Well, George, that being the case, his way of show 
 ing it is certainly a strange one. He has gone abroad 
 to live indefinitely. How could you expect the girl s 
 interest not to undergo a change, if, as is more than 
 likely, he went without speaking? " 
 
 " If he went without speaking ! " repeated the doc 
 tor, thoughtfully. " He did that undoubtedly ; and it 
 is all a question of pique with her, I suppose. It would 
 be just like him to love her to distraction, and yet feel 
 that he had no right to speak, in view of art s uncer 
 tainties. She ought to divine his reason, and love him 
 all the more." 
 
 " What an argument ! " said Mrs. Brinkley, tossing 
 her head impatiently. " Now, George, it is your sex 
 which deserves to be called incomprehensible. You 
 know as well as I do that the question of love should 
 outweigh all others. Don t talk to me about his uncer 
 tainties of art, or blame her for indifference which I 
 believe is fully warranted. If Paul Hemming really 
 loved Nina Stanwood, his first duty was to tell her so. 
 Imagine your behaving toward me in that ridiculous, 
 Quixotic fashion ! I should have had no patience with 
 you ! " 
 
 "Quixotic! Yes !" sighed her husband. "That s 
 the word for him ! I wonder if all artists must be so. 
 
 57 
 
The Courage of Conviction 
 
 It sometimes seems as if their success were in propor 
 tion to their unhappy isolation from the rest of us. One 
 might make a proverb out of that, like the old one about 
 love and cards. Happy in art, unhappy in the heart! 
 There you are ! " 
 
 " I have no sympathy with faint hearts," Mrs. Brink- 
 ley rejoined. " If that is Mr. Hemming s trouble, 
 why, he deserves to lose her. She need not go into 
 mourning on his account. There are other young 
 men, as you see." 
 
 In fact, while they were speaking, Miss Stanwood, 
 in the aisle below them, had been joined by Gordon 
 Wise, who quickly possessed himself of her few re 
 maining roses. He whispered something, at which she 
 smiled ; and they moved away together into the crowd, 
 passing on, just as the curtain rose, to some vacant seats 
 in the second tier, at the very back of the theatre. Here, 
 half in shadow and entirely free from observation, they 
 could watch the play and comment upon it to their 
 hearts content without fear of disturbing a single spec 
 tator. 
 
 The comedy was a pretty, clever trifle translated 
 from the French of Octave Feuillet and dealing with 
 the fortunes of a timid lover. While its plot and action 
 were of the slightest, the characters were well con 
 trasted and the brilliant dialogue needed no extraordi 
 nary talent for its effect. The emotion, studiously re 
 pressed for the most part, revealed itself here and there 
 
 58 
 
Under Charitable Stars 
 
 by a word or suggestion simply and directly, so that the 
 players were never badly overweighted in attempting 
 its portrayal; and they were soon set at ease by the 
 friendly audience, stirred into hearty approval of the 
 Frenchman s skill in handling his well-worn theme. 
 It was a triumph for the comedie de salon, which al 
 most justified this pale offshoot of a sturdy art. 
 Toward the close the principal performers, yielding to 
 the sympathetic current, so far forgot themselves as 
 to play extremely well. In the final scene, the heroine, 
 becoming more than half the wooer, vainly tried to give 
 her devoted admirer courage to commit himself ; and 
 when, at last, his proposal was brought about through 
 an accident, she promptly confessed that she had loved 
 him for years. The play ended with this discovery on 
 her part, and the humorous expression on his of un 
 availing regret for time wasted. It was all new to Gor 
 don Wise, who, as the action advanced, began to find 
 in the unheroic hero s desperate case a likeness to his 
 own. The whispered talk between him and Miss Stan- 
 wood died away. She watched the stage in silence; 
 while he, stealthily watching her at intervals, noticed 
 that in spite of her unconscious smile the color deepened 
 in her cheeks. Had she found that likeness, then, as 
 well as he ? 
 
 Thus, for a few moments, they sat oppressively silent 
 after the curtain fell, until more than half the audience 
 had streamed past them toward the lobby, there to while 
 
 59 
 
The Courage of Conviction 
 
 away the long wait. Then, left opportunely alone with 
 her, Gordon Wise at last forced himself to speak in hur 
 ried, broken phrases, which gradually grew more co 
 herent, as if the sound of his own voice gave him cour 
 age. Her color came and went, now flushing every 
 feature of the lovely face from which he could not turn 
 his eyes, now leaving it ominously pale. But she did 
 not interrupt him by any sign or word. Encouraging 
 as this was, it did not satisfy him ; and the moment came 
 when he stopped short with a demand for something 
 more. 
 
 " I don t know," she said, faintly, with downcast 
 eyes. " I cannot answer you ; I never dreamed of this." 
 
 " No ; how should you ? I am like the man in the 
 play. Had I only dared, I would have told you months 
 ago." 
 
 " Months ago ! How is that possible ? You could 
 care so much, and never speak ! " 
 
 " If you knew how often I have tried ! But even now 
 I cannot find the words. I love you I love you, that 
 is all." 
 
 There was genuine feeling in his voice, and he 
 trembled, as she turned toward him with startled eyes, 
 which, he perceived, were full of tears. He tried to 
 take her hand, but she drew it away. 
 
 " And you say nothing," he continued. " You will 
 not answer me ? " 
 
 " I I can t." 
 
 60 
 
Under Charitable Stars 
 
 "Why? Is there someone else, then?" 
 
 " No, there is no one else," she declared, with an em 
 phatic promptness which gave him a world of hope. 
 Whereupon, as if conscious of this, she did her best to 
 destroy the effect of her hasty admission. 
 
 " I am very sorry. I like you, but that is not 
 enough, and that is all I can say." 
 
 " But " 
 
 " Go ! Please, please go-! " she insisted. And upon 
 this reiterated word, he broke off impatiently; and, 
 eager now to be alone, went out into the corridor. 
 There, however, he found himself face to face with the 
 world again. Acquaintances came up to perplex him 
 with one important question after another, which, in his 
 official capacity, he was obliged to answer; in the 
 process regaining his composure before any question of 
 its loss arose. That they did not even suspect the pre 
 occupied state of his mind he was sure. The warning 
 bell rang, and they all hurried back to their places. 
 While he, caring nothing for the play, wandered out 
 side from one swing-door to another, until he had dis 
 covered Miss Stanwood, seated in a box now with a 
 merry party. She appeared to be following the play 
 intently, provokingly at ease. He must speak with her 
 if possible, at least come into her presence once more 
 before leaving the theatre; and for this he waited, 
 watching unseen until the curtain had fallen for the 
 last time. Then, keeping her always in sight, he made 
 
 61 
 
The Courage of Conviction 
 
 his way through the crowd toward the door of the tea 
 room through which she passed a few steps in advance 
 of him with her group of friends. He observed that 
 from them her glance strayed continually. For whom, 
 then, was she looking? He stood in the background 
 long enough to determine this, as he thought ; and so, 
 pressing on, brushed by the group and whispered over 
 her shoulder : 
 
 " Have you no more to say? " 
 
 She turned, met his look, immediately looked away. 
 " No," she whispered back. He said no more, but, as 
 he passed out, saw that she stood alone in the crowd, 
 pulling one of her gloves into shape abstractedly. 
 
 " That no means yes, " he muttered. " For I 
 will take no other answer." 
 
 On his way home he stopped at a florist s, and, adding 
 fresh roses to those he had bought of her, which he still 
 carried, sent them all to Miss Stanwood ; but without 
 his card, or any written reminder of his existence. 
 
 " She will know from whom they came," he thought ; 
 " and she will not return them, I ll swear ! " 
 
 Nor did she. 
 
 62 
 
VI 
 
 THE THORNS OF CONQUEST 
 
 " "N T O ! I ain t got nothing against you, as I know 
 1 ^ of," said Mr. Stanwood, with nervous indif 
 ference to syntax ; " it ain t that, you understand. But 
 it ain t what I expected for Nina, neither. You may as 
 well understand that, Mr. Wise, jest as well, first as 
 last." 
 
 And then Gordon Wise, feeling that one of the most 
 trying hours in his experience was over, confessed his 
 own unworthiness, but pledged himself to toil like a 
 convict for the woman he loved. He was poor, very 
 poor, but he had health, strength, and the will to devote 
 himself wholly to money-getting. Fortunes had been 
 made from small beginnings. If his ability to ac 
 cumulate vast wealth was still undemonstrated, he had, 
 at least, some business training. It was not an untried 
 field ; and his record in it, short as that was, had not 
 failed to show a natural aptitude for business, based 
 upon an overmastering inclination to which he had sac 
 rificed his chosen profession. 
 
 " Profession ? What profession ? " demanded Mr. 
 Stanwood, who had been biting the clipped, gray hairs 
 of his mustache in undisguised perplexity. 
 
 63 
 
The Courage of Conviction 
 
 " Music," said Wise, in spite of himself turning scar 
 let at the admission ; " I gave that up. There was no 
 money in it." 
 
 " Well, for the Lord s sake ! I should say as much ! " 
 growled the Winnipeg King, with a harsh emphasis 
 which made the other tremble. He was far from guess 
 ing how much the statement, apparently offensive, 
 really told in his favor. For it had recalled to Nina s 
 father the old fear that she might have fallen in love 
 with the fool of a painter who had gone abroad. " Bet 
 ter this than that, anyhow," he thought ; " a damned 
 sight better ! " And his acceptance of Gordon Wise 
 as a prospective son-in-law may be said to have dated 
 from the moment of that reflection. 
 
 Nevertheless, he chose to counterfeit fierce opposi 
 tion for a while longer, now fanning it into flame,jiow 
 suffering it to smoulder, as he tortured Wise with ques 
 tions concerning that unhappy taste for music. What ! 
 He had written songs, and actually had sold them ? Did 
 any hankering for this kind of success still lurk within 
 him ? Should it ever reassert itself, was he sure that he 
 could stifle it, stamp it out ? Would he agree to do that 
 unconditionally, with no reserve whatever ? And as he 
 asked this, Mr. Stanwood brought his heavy foot down 
 upon the hearth-rug expressively. It shook the room. 
 And before the waves of its vibration died away, Gor 
 don Wise had agreed to everything. Figuratively 
 speaking, he filled the pen with his own blood and 
 
 64 
 
The Thorns of Conquest 
 
 signed the compact; he was the king s galley-slave 
 now, body and soul. 
 
 Then, at last, Nina was summoned to talk out in 
 meeting for herself, as her father expressed it. This 
 she did with considerable spirit, every look and gesture 
 proving the state of the case more clearly than her 
 words. That she loved the man was very evident. Mr. 
 Stan wood eyed his daughter in jealous indignation, ill- 
 concealed, aware that to contend with this new force 
 would have been no easy matter, trying to determine 
 how he could yield and yet at the same time assert his 
 supremacy. Wise, meanwhile, looked on in glowing si 
 lence. It seemed hardly credible that this was the same 
 girl who, three months earlier at the theatre, had dis 
 missed him so curtly. Then, she was oppressed with 
 doubt, which, day after day, he labored to remove. 
 Sure neither of herself nor of him, as it appeared, she 
 could not give the promise he exacted, fearing that she 
 did not love him more than all the world, yet protest 
 ing always that there was no one in the world whom 
 she loved more. A refusal of this sort can but encour 
 age a patient lover. Gordon Wise had persevered, and 
 his perseverance had been well rewarded. Nina loved 
 him ; all the better, assuredly, for his steadfastness in 
 overcoming the painful doubt, at which, now, they 
 laughed together. 
 
 They had learned to study signs and to interpret 
 them. Thus they found no cause for alarm when their 
 
 65 
 
The Courage of Conviction 
 
 stern arbiter remanded the case, so to speak, for an 
 other week. He wished to think it over, he said ; to dis 
 cuss it with his wife. And they smiled at this, knowing 
 already that they could have no warmer ally than Mrs. 
 Stanwood, who was in their confidence. They agreed 
 cheerfully that there should be no announcement dur 
 ing the prescribed term of delay ; no engagement, in 
 fact, until his formal consent was pronounced. They 
 perceived that he merely wished to recover from the 
 shock of their attack, and make his retreat with dig 
 nity. They had feared a violent stand in the first in 
 stance. But the moment for this had passed, and it 
 was clear that there would be no violence at all. 
 
 None the less, his complete change of front was a 
 pleasant surprise when they stood before him again at 
 the appointed time. He not only consented to the mar 
 riage, but he would have been glad also to see it sol 
 emnized then and there, without more ado. For he 
 disapproved of long engagements. They had looked 
 for further doubts, delays perhaps ; conditions of some 
 sort, at least. But the only condition imposed was that 
 the wedding should take place with as little delay as 
 possible. They were in the early days of June, on the 
 point of moving for the summer to their country-house 
 at Tarrytown. Why could not the ceremony come off 
 up there, within a week, or ten days at the outside ? The 
 amusement of the lovers at this suggestion was un 
 intelligible to Mr. Stanwood. They knew their own 
 
 66 
 
The Thorns of Conquest 
 
 minds, didn t they? Then the sooner they were man 
 and wife, the better. Why wait a day, an hour ? But 
 he was finally made to see the importance of preparing 
 the world for the great event, and of gaining some lit 
 tle time for their own preparations. He permitted 
 them to wait until some day in July, to be hereafter 
 determined ; only, it must be before the fifteenth, when 
 he purposed to leave for a business trip through the 
 North- West, marriage or no marriage. Let them " hus 
 tle " accordingly, and begin writing the notes they 
 talked about right away. So much for that. Now, he 
 had a proposition to make, which he hoped would be 
 acceptable to all parties. 
 
 The proposition was a flattering one, not easily to be 
 rejected in view of the circumstances, even had Gordon 
 Wise conceived the gravest doubts regarding it. Mr. 
 Stanwood merely wished his son-in-law to enter his em 
 ploy at once, upon a salary, with the hope of becoming 
 his confidential clerk, his factotum, partner in busi 
 ness, ultimately his successor. The old money-get 
 ter, growing almost tender for the moment, explained 
 that he had no son, no chick nor child but Nina. He 
 desired Nina s husband to be one of the family in fact 
 as well as in name, knowing there was good stuff in 
 him. He could see no objection to this arrangement, 
 which would be advantageous financially and in every 
 way, all round. Well ? 
 
 Well, no objection was made, of course. The happy 
 67 
 
The Courage of Conviction 
 
 lover read his fate in his lady s eyes, and assented to 
 the plan forthwith. A week later he was installed in 
 Mr. Stanwood s private office, up to his ears in the new 
 employment, which it was easy to see would be far 
 from light. Even in the first glow of his great happi 
 ness, he perceived clearly that he had entered into a 
 kind of bondage. The thorns were there, and later they 
 would surely rankle. But a man who has just secured 
 the woman of his choice is lost to all sense of propor 
 tion. His present ills, his threatened dangers, how 
 ever grave, are for the time being the merest trifles, 
 swallowed up in the joy of his overwhelming victory. 
 Gordon Wise had doubts, only to dismiss them as soon 
 as conceived, with the old formula. The only girl 
 worth having was his. What more should he demand ? 
 One could not get everything in this world. 
 
 Meanwhile, the world intensified his state of ecstasy 
 by demonstrative admiration which was apparently 
 honest. His friends congratulated him unreservedly, 
 heartily. They showered their gifts upon Nina in the 
 usual way, and she took the usual childish delight in 
 displaying them. She had not dreamed of such kind 
 ness, she did not know that it existed. Her eyes shone 
 with its reflected glory. She was happy, so happy ; the 
 happier of the two, if that were possible. She had no 
 time, indeed, to be otherwise ; for the wedding was to 
 take place on the loth of July, in the country, as her 
 father desired. She wore herself to a shadow, daily, to 
 
 68 
 
The Thorns of Conquest 
 
 make ready, and he was gentle as a lamb, in conse 
 quence. He had given her a diamond necklace, the or 
 nament of all others which she coveted most. Wasn t 
 it angelic of him? And wouldn t she be the happiest 
 bride that ever lived? Perhaps. But, for the bride 
 groom, even in the rosy promise of the wedding-day, 
 there lurked an irritating little thorn. Fashion has de 
 creed that to " the marriage of true minds " a wedding- 
 journey is indispensable. And Gordon Wise had 
 counted upon one which should, at least, outlast the 
 honeymoon. But Mr. Stanwood s mind was fixed with 
 needle-like rigidity upon the Northwestern journey, 
 and he could not be swerved from it. His son-in-law 
 must be on hand to represent him in his absence. He 
 had taken three days off at the time of his own mar 
 riage, and three days were quite enough to waste in 
 this way, while five, say, might be regarded as reck 
 less luxury. He would agree to postpone his depart 
 ure until the seventeenth, but not an hour longer. He 
 should expect Gordon to report in New York on the 
 night of the sixteenth, without fail, and to lay his plans 
 accordingly. He genially reminded the new member 
 of the family that he, Anthony Stanwood, was its head 
 and front, and expected to " run " it. Gordon laughed, 
 accepting the statement as it was intended, jocosely, 
 promising obedience. His wry face at the close came 
 later, when he was alone. He had yielded himself up 
 to the tender mercies of a tyrant, who would rule him 
 
 69 
 
The Courage of Conviction 
 
 with an iron hand. For what ? Why, for a gentle, lov 
 ing wife, the best boon granted by the gods to man. He 
 must take the bargain as it came, and make the best of 
 it. As he had said before, and would often say again, 
 one could not get everything in this world ! 
 
VII 
 
 THE OBLONG BOX 
 
 IT was very warm in the big, dusty cathedral-square 
 that August morning; but the dim aisles of the 
 church were still pleasantly cool, and Paul Hemming 
 worked for more than three hours in one of the side- 
 chapels without discomfort. He had been two months 
 in Italy, for the greater part of the time quite off the 
 beaten paths of travel, remote from the railways. On 
 the preceding day he had driven over here to San 
 Gimignano from Volterra through the most desolate 
 tract of country ever dreamed of, which he compared 
 to the landscape in a nightmare ; and the bleak pros 
 pect had been rendered doubly cheerless, if that were 
 possible, by a pouring rain. Then the storm drifted 
 away, the mist melted into sunshine, and he came out 
 upon smiling hillsides, green with vineyards, beyond 
 which, from a distant summit, the towers of this med 
 iaeval city stood out against the sky. He had passed 
 on among them to a primitive tavern, in a denuded pal 
 ace near one of the gates, where the host s geniality and 
 the eager helpfulness of his pretty daughter, Raffaella, 
 outweighed the meagre fare and barren lodging. Later, 
 he had explored the town, watched an indescribable 
 
 71 
 
The Courage of Conviction 
 
 sunset from the ruined bastions, and dined frugally but 
 picturesquely upon eggs and macaroni and unlimited 
 Chianti wine. So, after a sound sleep, he had risen 
 early to begin the appointed work which had brought 
 him so far from the Quartier Latin. 
 
 To this commission (the copying of a certain figure 
 in a fresco) and to one or two others of the same kind 
 Hemming owed his Italian journey. Upon reaching 
 Paris he had immediately entered an atelier regularly 
 visited by the distinguished painter, Vernou ; and, mak 
 ing the most of his time, he had worked so hard and 
 so well that before the season closed the master, at first 
 indifferent, had shown strong interest in him. When 
 the moment came for summer plans, Hemming hunted 
 up an obscure Norman village where life would be in 
 expensive and he could paint to some advantage. But 
 an American amateur, who knew and liked his work, 
 hearing of this, intervened, suggesting Italy, with or 
 ders for copies upon favorable terms that would go far 
 toward paying his way. While Hemming hesitated, 
 his friend insisted, and, bent upon carrying his point, 
 procured for him other orders, which turned the scale. 
 The opportunity was exceptional ; to reject it would 
 have been like turning from the gates of paradise ; and, 
 with a clear three months at his command before the 
 atelier should claim him again, Hemming woke one 
 morning in Italy. 
 
 Thus it happened that with many high ideals realized, 
 72 
 
The Oblong Box 
 
 and rich in treasures of experience, Paul Hemming now 
 sat before Ghirlandaio s fresco in the church of San 
 Gimignano, engaged in copying the youthful Santa 
 Fina, who, according to the poetic legend, renounced 
 the earthly for the heavenly love. 
 
 " Ah ! nothing, now, I hold 
 Thy fond affection. Peace to thee and thine ! 
 Leave me, and pass ; eternal peace is mine." 
 
 The words of the local poet rang in the painter s ears 
 as the sweet, girlish face grew under his hand. The 
 saint lies dead, prepared for burial, with the dignitaries 
 of the church grouped about her in adoring attitudes ; 
 but hers is a death without horror, triumphant, beauti 
 ful. The features, thrown into relief by a golden 
 nimbus, are composed, as if in sleep ; and their expres 
 sion is of unspeakable beatitude, as if the eternal peace 
 predestined were already gained. It is the crowning 
 work of a master, faultless in its way, one of the in 
 spired things which a student contemplates with silent 
 veneration. Hemming felt its power inexpressibly, and 
 waited long before beginning his work. When he did 
 so, making his first draught of the face, he was moved 
 not alone by its technical beauties, but likewise by a 
 strange resemblance in it to a living face well known to 
 him. As he worked on the resemblance deepened, until 
 it seemed as if he were copying, not the features of the 
 departed Santa Fina, but of the absent Nina Stanwood. 
 
 73 
 
The Courage of Conviction 
 
 That was her brow, and the closed eyes must be hers, 
 too, if he could only see them. The likeness, at first a 
 delight, after a time disturbed him. He sank into 
 gloomy thoughts, and at last laid down his palette, sigh 
 ing. His peculiar depression had merged itself in a re 
 current feeling of homesickness, due partly to his 
 lonely journey ; but more, no doubt, to the fact that for 
 weeks he had heard nothing from home. His course, 
 of late, had been so uncertain, that, forgetting what 
 cheery companions letters make in solitude, he delib 
 erately cut off the source of supply by an order to let 
 them accumulate until he should reach San Gimignano. 
 They were to meet him at the tavern, where upon ar 
 rival the night before he had asked for them eagerly, 
 to find nothing. He had telegraphed at once to Paris 
 for an explanation, but the morning brought neither 
 the letters nor any answer to his inquiry. Surely, some 
 word must have come since ; he would go back, now, and 
 demand it. His work, in spite of distracting influences, 
 was a fairly good beginning, after all. 
 
 So, leaving his easel and colors in the sacristy, Hem 
 ming crossed through the blinding heat of the Piazza. 
 and went down the shady side of the hill to the Leon 
 Bianco. There, at last, the much-desired yellow en 
 velope was handed him, the message from the bankers 
 with the information that his missing letters had been 
 sent, through a clerical error, to another inn, the Al- 
 bergo Giusti. That was in the square, as he reinem- 
 
 74 
 
The Oblong Box 
 
 bered. He had passed its flamboyant sign-board on the 
 way down, a moment ago. Now he hurried back to col 
 lect an armful that rejoiced his heart, though some of 
 it, as denoted by the postmarks, must be very old news. 
 There were letters and papers, nearly two dozen in 
 all, and one small package which excited his curiosity, 
 while he retraced his steps. It had come from New 
 York; it was carefully sealed, addressed in a strange 
 hand ; and it contained something of a solid nature, 
 moderately heavy, so that shaking it produced no sound. 
 He had written home for nothing, expected nothing. 
 What could it be ? Who could have sent it ? These ques 
 tions soon became of the highest importance ; and upon 
 seating himself at the breakfast-table, set for him alone 
 in the great, empty sala da pranzo, his first act was to 
 cut the strings of the mysterious parcel. Unfolding the 
 wrappers, he found within a little oblong box of white 
 pasteboard, edged with silver. It looked like a jew 
 eller s box ; but no one of his acquaintances was in the 
 least likely to send him jewels. More perplexed than 
 ever, he opened it, and laughed at discovering only a 
 slice of wedding-cake, with all its absurd accompani 
 ments of tissue-paper and decorative sugar-frosting, 
 into which the initials of bride and groom were fanci 
 fully worked. N S G W ! Interpreting these at the 
 first glance, Hemming knit his brows, and his laugh 
 died away. Nina Stanwood and Gordon Wise, of 
 course ! So they were married. But to receive the news 
 
 75 
 
The Courage of Conviction 
 
 in this way gave him an unpleasant shock. No word of 
 their engagement, no hint of its possibility had reached 
 him. He had recognized Gordon s hand in the address 
 upon one of his unopened letters. He turned to it now, 
 and plunged into four closely written pages descrip 
 tive of his friend s happiness, filled with the affectionate 
 reminiscence and promise of future intimacy which 
 a newly accepted lover always bestows upon his com 
 rade left behind, as it were, in the race. They were 
 dated in June, six weeks ago. And here were the 
 cards, announcing that the marriage had taken place 
 on the tenth of July with due formality. The honey 
 moon was nearly over, and he had given them no sign. 
 What must they think of him? Then came a bitter 
 thought, wholly unjustifiable in view of the letter which 
 lay there at his hand. Was it not highly probable that, 
 occupied with their own happiness, they had ceased to 
 think of him at all ? In any case, a line would suffice to 
 show that his silence had been due to accident, not in 
 difference. He must write to Gordon at once and con 
 gratulate him, heartily. 
 
 In comparison with Gordon s letter the others were 
 trivial and unimportant. Several of them alluded more 
 or less lightly to this love-affair, which, naturally 
 enough, had been a nine days wonder. Nothing else, 
 indeed, seemed to have happened at home. The pleas 
 ant glow of direct communication with it soon passed 
 off, leaving a sort of chill behind to heighten Hem- 
 
 76 
 
The Oblong Box 
 
 ming s sense of loneliness. He pushed aside the letters 
 and sat motionless for some time, staring out at the 
 yellow walls and green shutters of the silent street. 
 Then he went over to the writing-table, and began his 
 congratulations in a semi- jocose vein, which, as he pro 
 ceeded, grew serious to a degree that must have satis 
 fied the most exacting of lovers ; he thanked Wise for 
 his friendly wishes, echoed him, rejoiced with him; 
 and, unable to disguise wholly his own present state 
 of mind, he ended with a humorous expression of envy 
 at his friend s good fortune. As he folded the letter, 
 the full force of the threadbare adage concerning 
 the true word spoken in jest suddenly came home to 
 him. He envied Gordon Wise, that was the simple 
 truth. 
 
 And he understood now, as never before, what the 
 pursuit of his own ideals had involved. How strange it 
 was ! Nina Stanwood had been much in his thoughts, 
 attending him everywhere, and he had not even guessed 
 the reason. All that morning she had masqueraded be 
 fore him in the church under the guise of Santa Fina. 
 Nina Stanwood ! He could not think of her as mar 
 ried, as Gordon Wise s wife ! He recollected perfectly 
 and had often recalled every detail of their queer, un 
 conventional parting at the door of his studio, every 
 look, every gesture, every tone ! He reviewed the 
 whole scene again, with new, unutterable bitterness. 
 Through it all, clearly indicated, was a strong feeling, 
 
 77 
 
The Courage of Conviction 
 
 stronger, assuredly, than the mere interest of friend 
 ship. He had known this, but had let it go, treating it 
 lightly, secured by the sacrifice he was making, shel 
 tered in the stronghold of his art, which, he believed, 
 must exclude the thought of marriage. She, almost in 
 so many words, had confessed her love for him. Had 
 he proved but half the wooer the whole course of their 
 lives might have changed from that moment. Where 
 would have been his fine-spun scruples then ? Ah ! 
 Then, he did not love her. Good God ! To think that 
 was to admit that he loved her now ; now, when it was 
 too late, and his relief must be to think of her no more. 
 What infernal nonsense ! As if she were the only 
 woman in the world, when there were a thousand, per 
 haps, more or less, who would make him equally happy. 
 Why one rather than another? Here was one under 
 this very roof, Raffaella, the inn-keeper s pretty daugh 
 ter, whose face had struck his fancy, who had agreed 
 to pose for him to-morrow. Many painters had married 
 their models, and lived happy ever after. If marriage 
 had declared itself, all at once, an importunate neces 
 sity, why should not he do likewise ? 
 
 Raffaella was there in the kitchen, across the cor 
 ridor. He could hear her moving about, singing 
 at her work. He smiled and listened. There came 
 a heavy step on the stone staircase ; he looked up, just 
 as a man passed along the corridor, whistling an air 
 from Don Giovanni. It was an officer of the town- 
 
The Oblong Box 
 
 garrison, whom Hemming had noticed before hanging 
 about the house, in full uniform, with his sword clink 
 ing as he walked. The soldier went on now into the 
 kitchen, where the girl greeted him with a merry laugh. 
 Then they burst out into song together, taking up the 
 air he whistled, " La ci darem la mano! " And Hem 
 ming, gathering up his letters hastily, strode off down 
 the stairs, out into the town. 
 
 He walked on to one of the gates and beyond it, fol 
 lowing a foot-path down across the plain between vine 
 yards and grain-fields until he had reached the open 
 country a mile away. There, climbing a hillside, he 
 seated himself in the shade of a solitary pine-tree and 
 looked back at the gray towers of the crumbling city, 
 the wide, undulating landscape of infinite distances, 
 bright with the vine or pale with the olive. But of its 
 rare beauty Hemming for once was hardly conscious. 
 Out of the brilliant Tuscan sunshine his thought had 
 wandered to a winter night at home long past, the 
 night at Barrington s, when Stahlberg sang and Gor 
 don Wise met Nina for the first time. What a gulf 
 of change lay between them all and that festivity ! And 
 how sharply the change seemed now to have been fore 
 shadowed ! The scene rose before him in its minutest 
 details, reproduced with harsh, photographic fidelity. 
 He remembered Gordon s eager questions about her 
 and his own answers ; their talk of the future, into which 
 the question of marriage intruded ; his renunciation of 
 
 79 
 
The Courage of Conviction 
 
 that in pledging himself to the struggles of an artistic 
 life; his urgent entreaty that Gordon should make a 
 similar sacrifice. But Gordon had hesitated, though 
 the moment was one of artistic triumph for him. How 
 Stahlberg had touched them all with that song of 
 his to Heine s words, whose sad refrain would not go 
 from Hemming s mind ! " Mein Lieb, wir sollen Beide 
 elend sein!" Did that express their fortune? or his 
 only? 
 
 " My love, we two live evermore forlorn ! " The line 
 still sounded its note of prophetic warning, as he took 
 up life again after his long reverie and strolled back 
 toward the town. It was too late to work any more that 
 day, even had he found the heart for it. He left the 
 path and followed the fortifications to a postern gate, 
 through which he passed into a grass-grown court, de 
 serted, silent, solemn, climbing thence to an angle of 
 the wall that commanded the western sky. There he 
 watched the setting sun with the eyes of an exile hun 
 gry for companionship. And turning away, at last, in 
 the afterglow, he saw some letters in the weather-beaten 
 stonework, just at the point where he had leaned. They 
 were freshly cut, with such care as to be distinctly legi 
 ble ; and he read 
 
 RAFFAELLA 
 
 MARTINO 
 SIAMO AMOROSI 
 
 80 
 
The Oblong Box 
 
 smiling at the discovery. The abandoned fortress had 
 become a rendezvous for lovers, who recorded the 
 romance of their lives in the old childish way; 
 
 " In such a night as this, 
 When the sweet wind did gently kiss the trees," 
 
 here the pretty Raffaella and her soldier had met to ex 
 change vows. The whole world was but a place of love- 
 making, of marrying and giving in marriage ; and he, 
 who had fancied himself superhuman, was trying to 
 walk through it alone with insufficient armor. He had 
 not dreamed that the arch-foeman s mischievous arrows 
 could fly so fiercely and so far ! 
 
 As he passed through the hall of the Leon Bianco 
 the girl ran out to meet him. 
 
 The signore left this little box upon the table," she 
 said, smiling. 
 
 She had investigated its contents with the utmost 
 care, but now feigned surprise when Hemming showed 
 and explained them. 
 
 " I make you a gift of it," he added. " May it bring 
 you good luck with the soldier, Martino is his name, 
 is it not?" 
 
 Raffaella stared, round-eyed, wondering, while her 
 face showed signs of a blush burning through its Italian 
 pallor. 
 
 " Yes, signore, he is called Martino. How did the 
 signore know his name ? " 
 
 81 
 
The Courage of Conviction 
 
 " Oh, I know more than that," returned Hemming, 
 laughing. " I know, for instance, that he loves you ! " 
 
 She flushed scarlet, but drew herself up proudly. 
 
 " Si; e vero!" she said, in a gentle voice. " Siamo 
 amorosi! " And then, with a rippling laugh, she 
 darted away. 
 
 82 
 
VIII 
 
 ALTERED CASES 
 
 MATURE married men, happy in their wives and 
 children, have been known to say that the first 
 year of the matrimonial venture was much the hardest. 
 It is, so to speak, the educational year, in which the 
 inequalities of disposition, the carefully guarded 
 idiosyncrasies of man and wife, are gradually revealed, 
 and, for the sake of expediency at least, must be stud 
 ied, learned, adjusted. Concessions on both sides, not 
 always perfectly balanced, follow, as a matter of course ; 
 one individuality predominates, perhaps, while the 
 other is lost ; one finds its greatest joy in yielding, while 
 on certain points there develops a tacit agreement to dis 
 agree. But through this or that method the two, in 
 time, should blend into one ; and according to the com 
 pleteness of the fusion the partnership progresses fa 
 vorably or otherwise. 
 
 For the summer Nina and her husband were estab 
 lished as guests in her father s house at Tarrytown. 
 This arrangement, conducive to the comfort and satis 
 faction of the four who were concerned in it, gave one 
 of them, at least, unbounded pleasure. Mrs. Stanwood, 
 who had nursed the tremulous fear of an invalid over 
 
 83 
 
The Courage of Conviction 
 
 the loss to her that would inevitably follow her daugh 
 ter s marriage, regarded this as a grateful reprieve. 
 Nina had never seemed so well, so happy ; she was more 
 thoughtful, more devoted, more affectionate than ever, 
 if that were possible. Her own health and spirits took 
 a favorable turn, in consequence; Gordon, who came 
 and went daily, at first, was more than attentive; she 
 began to feel that she had gained a child instead of 
 losing one, and to look upon the new member of the 
 household almost with Nina s eyes. The children, as 
 she called them, were to set up an establishment of their 
 own in the winter, a handsome, not to say luxurious, 
 city house on the west side, near the park. There were 
 alterations to be made, plans to be considered. In all 
 their talks about it Mrs. Stanwood was consulted, and 
 when doubts arose it was she who gave the casting 
 vote. For almost the first time in her life she acquired 
 a pleasant sense of importance in her own eyes. 
 
 The season proved unusually hot, and in the course 
 of time it became to Gordon almost intolerable. The 
 office affairs demanded his presence early and late ; new 
 schemes for the town house, developing unexpectedly, 
 made repeated visits to it indispensable. The journey, 
 back and forth, consumed more of each day than he 
 could spare ; so that Tarrytown was given up for days 
 together, and, taking a room at one of his clubs, he 
 lived there through the week, until, late on Saturday, 
 the moment came when he could escape into the coun- 
 
 84 
 
Altered Cases 
 
 try to get his short interval of rest. This plan was 
 definitely adopted at the suggestion of his wife, who 
 was disturbed by his desperate look of fatigue. Yet, 
 after its adoption, so much of the look still remained 
 that, repeatedly, she cautioned him against overwork. 
 But he only laughed, and told her not to worry. Then 
 she complained, privately, to her father, who was even 
 less sympathetic. He told her, in so many words, to let 
 her husband alone. Gordon was taking hold well, and 
 making his way. Men had to work, of course ; it was 
 expected of them. What did women know about it, or 
 about business, anyway? Their duty was to keep still 
 and keep from nagging ! 
 
 Harsh as its expression was, the advice seemed sound, 
 and Nina did her best to follow it. Though her opin 
 ion was unchanged, she introduced the subject no more, 
 and forced herself to conceal her anxieties, if not to dis 
 miss them. She labored constantly to make her first 
 thought always the thought of others : with her mother, 
 growing in patient helpfulness ; with Gordon, when he 
 came up from town worn and tired, striving to divert 
 the current of business cares that threatened to over 
 whelm him. It delighted her to see his face clear, while 
 its lines of exhaustion gradually gave place to the lines 
 of mirth. She had a vein of quiet humor which was 
 artfully developed to this end. But her task proved 
 more difficult from week to week as the summer waned. 
 She noted with vague alarm the progress of a perplex- 
 
 85 
 
The Courage of Conviction 
 
 ing change in his whole demeanor. He grew silent, ab 
 stracted, morose, at times even irritable. The strain of 
 overwork was telling upon him, undoubtedly. And 
 often, at the thought, when she was left to herself, 
 his careworn look came to be reflected in her own 
 face. 
 
 One very marked alteration in his character distressed 
 her above all the rest. His talk, she observed, turned 
 more and more upon money and the material advan 
 tages to accrue from its possession. When they had 
 money it would bring them such and such greatly de 
 sired things. And by his use the word signified not 
 the moderate supply requisite for daily needs, not the 
 " pale and common drudge tween man and man," 
 but the " hard food for Midas," entailing excessive 
 luxury and splendor. Simple pleasures interested him 
 less and less. He was only bored by them. As for 
 books, he stated frankly that he had no time to read 
 this with a sigh, it is true ; yet he found ample time for 
 the newspapers and everything else in print that touched 
 directly or indirectly upon profitable questions, as he 
 called them. A man to succeed, as he argued, must be a 
 man of one idea. His idea was to make money. Why 
 not? Money did no end of good. He must push on 
 and make it, dropping all superfluous pursuits by the 
 way. Here was a law of life which satisfied old 
 Anthony Stanwood thoroughly. At every clause of it, 
 he rubbed his hands with delight, and took pains to 
 
 86 
 
Altered Cases 
 
 spread the intelligence that he had a son-in-law with 
 no " outs," who was one of the coming men. 
 
 Along this channel, gradually narrowing, the stream 
 of these lives flowed on until the autumn, when there 
 came a cordial note from Mrs. Brinkley Barring- 
 ton inviting Mr. and Mrs. Gordon Wise to join a house- 
 party at Brinkwood, the historic estate of fine traditions 
 near Fishkill-on-Hudson, where she and her husband 
 would be overjoyed to have them for a week. Gordon 
 shook his head and proposed declining; or, if that 
 would not do, Nina might accept, and let him off on the 
 ground of his business engagements. But Nina said 
 no ; they must go together, or not at all. And this de 
 cision, emphatically expressed at the breakfast-table, 
 somewhat to her surprise was sustained in the strongest 
 way by her father, who added that they must go, of 
 course. He felt, although he did not say it in so many 
 words, that the Barringtons were far too influential to 
 be dealt with lightly. Gordon yielded at once, and Mr. 
 Stanwood told him privately afterward that from a 
 business point of view he considered the visit ad 
 visable. 
 
 So, turning his holiday into a business transaction, 
 Gordon Wise determined to make it complete by re 
 maining at Brinkwood throughout the week for which 
 they were invited. And Mr. Stanwood s acuteness was 
 demonstrated to him at the very moment of arrival, 
 when he found among the guests Egerton Harvey, the 
 
 87 
 
The Courage of Conviction 
 
 banker (senior partner of Harvey, Long & Co.), and 
 Hammond Long, the junior partner s son. With this 
 powerful firm he already had pleasant relations; and 
 visions of a stronger and more profitable alliance at 
 once rose in his mind as a possible result of the visit. 
 The other guests were Mrs. Harvey, the banker s wife, 
 Dr. Brinkley and Mrs. Brinkley with their daughter, 
 Suzette ; making the party ten in all, that night, at the 
 dinner-table, which glittered with old plate. The room 
 was large and handsome, the dinner itself faultless ; 
 and Gordon, seated between Miss Brinkley and her 
 mother, who were never at a loss for speech, soon found 
 himself in a contented frame of mind. As he tasted 
 the claret, which proved to be a grand vin, perfect in 
 condition and temperature, he remembered an old say 
 ing of his to the effect that the Barringtons understood 
 splendor without display, and that everything which 
 they cared to attempt was sure to be well done. He 
 hoped that his wife was making mental notes of it all 
 for their own future guidance. 
 
 As the dinner went on there was more or less gen 
 eral conversation, in which Mr. Harvey, a recognized 
 art patron, took the lead for a time, upon the chance in 
 troduction of his favorite subject. Then, after the talk 
 had turned to modern painters and their methods, he 
 asked for news of Paul Hemming, one of whose pict 
 ures he owned. Gordon at once came to the front with 
 the statement that he had heard from Hemming in Italy 
 
Altered Cases 
 
 not so very long ago ; that the letter was written in high 
 spirits and full of enthusiasm ; that all was going well ; 
 and, finally, that his friend intended to remain abroad 
 for another year, passing his winter in Paris, exhibit 
 ing, surely, at the next Salon. 
 
 " Good ! " said Mr. Harvey, leaning forward on Miss 
 Brinkley s left, to mark his approval. Then, settling 
 back and addressing whom it might concern, he added : 
 " I only hope he won t sacrifice everything to technique, 
 or go mad over new effects like some of the modern 
 Frenchmen ; that s all ! " 
 
 " Oh, he is much too clever for that. Isn t he ? " said 
 Barrington, with an appeal to Nina, who sat next him. 
 
 " Decidedly," she answered. " He will gain, rather 
 than lose, I am sure." 
 
 " We shall see ! " Mr. Harvey replied. " By the way, 
 what ever became of that fine thing he finished just be 
 fore sailing, the Tithonus. Some of us saw it in his 
 studio, one afternoon. You were there, Mrs. Wise ; 
 you remember." 
 
 " Yes," said Nina, closing her fan and laying it down. 
 " I remember." 
 
 " I can tell you all about that," said Dr. Brinkley, 
 who sat on her side of the table, two chairs away, next 
 their hostess. " In fact, I may say pars parva fui; since 
 the picture was left in my charge for a while after Hem 
 ming went away. He sold it at his own price, a very 
 good one." 
 
 89 
 
The Courage of Conviction 
 
 "Ah! indeed? Who bought it?" Mr. Harvey in 
 quired. 
 
 " That," returned the doctor, smiling, " is a bit of a 
 secret, not of my making. I am only permitted to say 
 that the picture went to Chicago." 
 
 " Well, I congratulate the buyer, whoever he may 
 be," said the art patron, very heartily. " The picture is 
 worth more than he gave for it, I ll venture to state. 
 Those Chicago fellows will take the lead of us all, if 
 we are not careful ; they show real discrimination." 
 
 Mrs. Barrington caught up the gantlet, at once, in 
 defence of New York, which she declared was the fore 
 most of earthly cities ; and, while Mr. Harvey amiably 
 discussed this point with her, the general talk subsided. 
 The host sought Mrs. Brinkley s opinion upon the same 
 important subject; Mrs. Harvey loyally supported her 
 husband in a spirited argument with Hammond Long ; 
 and Suzette Brinkley took the opportunity to learn a 
 little more of Hemming s Italian journey from her 
 next neighbor, who said that his letter had been dated 
 at San Gimignano, in Tuscany. Two of the company 
 were thus left practically to themselves, sitting apart, 
 as they happened to be, upon the same side of the 
 table. An observing person might easily have detected 
 embarrassment in Mrs. Wise s abstracted silence. Her 
 eyes were cast downward, as if to study the decoration 
 of her plate by tracing out minutely the intricacies of 
 its design. Her thoughts were not upon that, assuredly ; 
 
 90 
 
Altered Cases 
 
 and her expression had the shade of weariness which 
 often overcame it, now, in repose. But there was no 
 one to observe her. Dr. Brinkley stared straight across 
 the table, where Gordon Wise and Suzette sounded 
 their antiphonal notes of praise for Italy. Yet though 
 the doctor s attitude seemed to be that of a listener, he 
 had not the least notion of what they were saying. This 
 condition was but momentary, of course ; the eddying 
 ones were soon swept back into the current, and the 
 dinner went lightly on to the end. 
 
 That first evening was made very short, as befitted 
 one of arrival, some of the guests having travelled far. 
 The men lingered, to be sure, over their cigars, pur 
 suing a comparison of sectional progress in America 
 which the mention of Chicago had suggested. And, 
 afterward, there was a musical half hour in the draw 
 ing-room, Suzette singing three songs very sweetly to 
 her own accompaniment ; Gordon Wise helping her 
 with another, even though he was all out of prac 
 tice, as he said, never playing now. But the dispersal 
 came early by common consent, after a look at the stars, 
 which gave their clearest assurance of fine weather on 
 the following day. 
 
 It was in fact a splendid autumn morning when 
 Dr. Brinkley, who always rose betimes, came into the 
 breakfast-room, and, finding only servants there, 
 strolled out across the lawn for a look at the mountains 
 and the river; then, lured on by the trimness of the 
 
 91 
 
The Courage of Conviction 
 
 foreground, he followed a path that led away from the 
 house, past an old well overgrown with vines, to the 
 garden-gate. Beyond, closed in by hedges, lay the wide, 
 formal garden itself, bright with late flowers, dahlias, 
 chrysanthemums and the crimson salvia, all steeped 
 in sunshine. He opened the gate and passed on between 
 the borders of box, along the main walk to its farther 
 end, where, turning into shrubbery of larger growth, 
 he suddenly found himself face to face with Mrs. Gor 
 don Wise. She had come out alone, scenting the morn 
 ing air, like the Ghost in Hamlet, as she said ; but in her 
 becoming costume, suited to the hour and to the place, 
 she looked more like a spirit of the day than of the 
 dark, and Dr. Brinkley told her so. 
 
 " I might say the same of you," she answered, laugh 
 ing. " We two are the choice spirits of the household. 
 To stay in-doors when the flowers are waking up is a 
 dreadful mistake." 
 
 " You are very fond of flowers," said Dr. Brinkley. 
 
 " Of course ; I have always loved them. At Tarry- 
 town I live in the garden. But ours is not so fine as 
 this; there are things here that will not grow with us. 
 I must talk with the gardener and discover why." 
 
 They turned back, walking slowly, stopping now 
 and then to admire some flower-bed in detail, and 
 to comment upon it. But as they drew near the gate 
 Nina spoke less freely, and her share of the conversa 
 tion became monosyllabic. Dr. Brinkley felt that her 
 
 92 
 
Altered Cases 
 
 thought had taken flight, and, after vain attempts to 
 recall it indirectly, he inquired point-blank of what she 
 was thinking. 
 
 She tried to parry him, at first, with a laugh; then, 
 changing her tactics, frankly admitted her abstraction, 
 and confessed its cause. 
 
 " I was only thinking of the dreadful little fib I 
 forced you to tell last night, about Mr. Hemming s 
 picture, I mean ; my picture, the Tithonus. : 
 
 The doctor laughed. " Oh, is that all? It does 
 not weigh upon my conscience. In society we have 
 always the right to protect ourselves, by evasion, from 
 idle curiosity; and, in this case, the lie was snow- 
 white. I only said that the picture went to Chicago, 
 where I really sent it, you remember, for purposes 
 of exhibition." 
 
 " Yes," sighed Nina. " But when they all drew 
 the only possible inference, and said so much about 
 Chicago s quick appreciation of the arts, I felt horribly 
 guilty. How could I help it, with the picture locked 
 up in the New York storage warehouse, my property? 
 And now I am committed to silence. Absurd, isn t 
 it? The poor Tithonus seems to have become an 
 impossible possession. The light of day must never 
 shine upon him any more. I can t show him to the 
 world without explanations, which would be awkward 
 if not ridiculous. I hardly dare even to let Gordon 
 know that he is mine now." 
 
 93 
 
The Courage of Conviction 
 
 "You have never told him, then?" 
 
 " No. I have always meant to do so, but 
 
 She stopped abruptly, reluctant, all at once, to ad 
 mit that her present motive for keeping this small 
 secret from her husband was a fear that he would 
 laugh at her. Dr. Brinkley waited a moment, and 
 then said, quietly: " I should tell him, I think. Why 
 not? Where is the harm?" 
 
 " There can be none," said Nina, quickly, feeling 
 her cheeks burn as she spoke. " I shall confess the 
 pious fraud to Gordon some day, of course. He will 
 approve of my good investment, I dare say, in view 
 of Mr. Hemming s advancing reputation." 
 
 She had said too much now, and was painfully aware 
 of it, even though she remained unconscious of the 
 bitterness in her tone, more expressive than the words 
 themselves. The doctor, however, whose professional 
 acuteness, intensified by friendly regard, had never 
 been in better working order, noted these signs, in 
 dividually and collectively, doing his simple sum in 
 addition as they walked on together, but giving no 
 hint of that mental process. " He could not have 
 known," she said to herself when he had turned their 
 talk easily into another channel. And, all the while, 
 he knew. 
 
 Half a doctor s strength lies in deception. Actively 
 or passively he resorts to it so often in his daily round, 
 professionally, from the best of motives, that it be- 
 
 94 
 
Altered Cases 
 
 comes a kind of second nature, governing all his 
 relations with life, which, thus, are characterized by 
 a closer restraint than that habitually observed by 
 other men. Caution leads naturally to over-caution, 
 even in trivial matters; and though he may have the 
 wit to discern his failing, he only makes a virtue of 
 it, arguing with himself that the error is on the right 
 side. " Too much discretion never killed anybody," 
 was one of Dr. Brinkley s favorite maxims. So, upon 
 his wife s statement, toward the close of their visit at 
 Brinkwood, that she was beginning to be troubled 
 about Nina, he put on a look of childlike innocence, 
 and inquired what she meant. It was late at night, 
 they were alone in their own quarters, yet Mrs. Brink- 
 ley instinctively lowered her voice as she replied: 
 
 "You have noticed nothing wrong, then?" 
 
 " Wrong? No. She seems to me the picture of 
 health." 
 
 " Health ! " she repeated, impatiently. " Of course, 
 that is the doctor s first thought always." 
 
 " Naturally, my dear. I thought you had detected 
 symptoms, and wanted my professional opinion." 
 
 " Not at all. I have no idea that there is anything 
 the matter with Nina physically." 
 
 "Oh!" said the doctor, intrenching himself pru 
 dently behind this single exclamation to await the 
 disclosure in which he perceived that his wife s op 
 pressed mind now sought relief. 
 
 95 
 
The Courage of Conviction 
 
 " No, indeed! " she continued, as if her husband had 
 advanced a theory which needed refutation. " Nina 
 is perfectly well. But she seems to me preoccupied, 
 anxious, out of spirits, unlike herself, I don t like to 
 say unhappy 
 
 " Don t say it, then, on any account ! " the doctor 
 interjected. " Unhappy? Why, she hasn t been mar 
 ried three months yet ! " 
 
 " They were married on the tenth day of July, 
 George," said Mrs. Brinkley, with dry adherence to 
 fact, " and that was nearly four months ago. I doubt 
 if Gordon Wise remembers the date any better than 
 you do. He isn t half so attentive to her as he ought 
 to be. I think, between ourselves, that she feels this, 
 and that it troubles her." 
 
 "My dear Sue, what an awful thought! Has she 
 complained? " 
 
 " No, certainly not. But he 
 
 " Ah, yes, he ! Isn t your standard a trifle too high? 
 How attentive ought he to be?" 
 
 " He ought to be different. He should consider 
 her first in everything. Instead of that, it seems, 
 sometimes, as if he scarcely considered her at all. He 
 is entirely wrapped up in business matters. You have 
 only to talk with him alone for five minutes to see 
 what I mean. He listens, and wanders back to Wall 
 Street. His heart is there." 
 
 " Naturally there, where he earns his daily bread 
 96 
 
Altered Cases 
 
 en la sueur de son visage, for her, let me remind 
 you." 
 
 " But first for himself. That is the whole difficulty, 
 George. His wife holds the second place in the part 
 nership. Why, if you treated me as he treats her, I 
 should arise in wrath, and we have been married 
 more than twenty years." 
 
 " Thank you, my dear," said the doctor, laughing. 
 " I hoped for that personal illustration, even more 
 characteristic of your superior sex than is its readi 
 ness to jump at conclusions. I am willing to grant 
 that I am as nearly perfect as a man can be, but men 
 are cast in different moulds. Because Wise is undem 
 onstrative it does not follow that he is indifferent. 
 This intricate married-life business was never yet 
 mastered in a moment. Give the young man time. 
 Seriously, don t be unfair to him. A hasty judgment, 
 expressed or betrayed, might bring them both to 
 grief." 
 
 " Pray don t suggest such a thing," said Mrs. Brink- 
 ley, beginning to doubt the value of her evidence. "I 
 would not reveal my thought for the world in any 
 way. It was quite between ourselves; and, perhaps, 
 as you say, my standard is too high. I have been 
 spoiled, you see. But Nina 
 
 " There is more or less malaria about this autumn," 
 said the doctor, as though he were thinking aloud. 
 
 97 
 
The Courage of Conviction 
 
 " Possibly Nina has a touch of it. If so, a few grains 
 of quinine, more or less, 
 
 "Malaria! I never thought of it! I dare say it s 
 no more than that, after all. Do look into it, George! " 
 
 " Yes, yes," agreed the doctor, smiling. " Nothing 
 like a woman s keen observation in certain cases. As 
 you say, this is probably a slight attack of malaria. 
 In my capacity of professional adviser, I think it is 
 my duty to recommend a little quinine." 
 
 So, with a gravity that might have drawn a wink 
 from the bust of Hippocrates, perched above his office- 
 door at home, Dr. Brinkley closed the consultation. 
 
 O, mask of virtuous hypocrisy! Even as he ad 
 justed it and tied the strings securely, to the complete 
 satisfaction of his unsuspecting colleague, no one 
 knew better than Dr. Brinkley that Mrs. Gordon 
 Wise s trouble was not malarial. 
 
 98 
 
IX 
 
 PROSPERITY 
 
 IN the course of the next year the men who saw 
 most of Gordon Wise down town and at the 
 clubs became convinced that he had taken at the 
 flood the tide leading on to fortune. Events seemed 
 clearly to prove his good judgment in the close alli 
 ance which he had formed with old Anthony Stanwood. 
 There was, certainly, nothing else that could be 
 brought up against him, and he was so much of a 
 favorite that, among the younger portion, at least, of 
 his wide acquaintance, old-fashioned prejudice against 
 the Winnipeg King almost ceased to exist. The tide 
 which floated the amiable, good-looking son-in-law, if 
 properly followed, was capable, likewise, of serving the 
 father-in-law, once so obnoxious, who might now have 
 escaped blackballing, even in certain rigid, exclusive 
 circles, had he cared to try. The man who owned more 
 than half the business quarter in the great new port 
 of the North-West, and yet remained socially unrec 
 ognized, was probably the victim of malignant jealousy. 
 But if Mr. Stanwood felt any glow from this rise in 
 sentimental temperature, he gave no sign thereof. He 
 had outgrown all trivial aspirations for personal ad- 
 
 99 
 
The Courage of Conviction 
 
 vancement. Nina and her husband were recognized; 
 that was enough. They could make the most of it, 
 or not, as they pleased. What did it amount to, any 
 way? 
 
 All it seemed to amount to was that Nina gave, 
 during this first winter, a number of little dinners in 
 the new house, which, if small, was a model of good 
 taste, most comfortable, and well appointed. Through 
 out the subsequent round of dinner-giving in her honor 
 it was observed that she looked radiantly handsome, 
 and did all that could reasonably be expected of her, 
 though the effort to overcome listlessness, fatigue, or 
 some disturbing force undetermined grew, at times, 
 too evident. At the height of the season she appeared 
 without her husband at one or two large balls, state 
 affairs, requiring only momentary, perfunctory ap 
 pearance, after which it was perfectly easy for her to 
 slip away at an early hour, unnoticed. Then, having 
 accepted a formal dinner invitation, she failed her 
 hostess at the eleventh hour, Gordon coming without 
 her. And thereafter the world saw less and less of 
 her as time went on, until her absence came to be 
 taken for granted, and it was currently reported that 
 she, upon grounds chiefly hysterical, had settled down 
 into a nervous invalid. The rumor was an unwar 
 ranted distortion of fact, yet she took no pains to con 
 tradict it. 
 
 There certainly were days in which she felt far 
 100 
 
Prosperity 
 
 from well, and her normal state was one of languid 
 indifference to much that went on about her. She 
 received a few intimate friends very cordially ; but even 
 these visits she rarely returned, and, in the scheme of 
 her daily life, formal entertainment was no longer 
 considered. The dinners given in their new house 
 were all Gordon s now, and the men were so much 
 happier without her that she did not intrude upon 
 them, even during the awkward preliminary moment 
 of the drawing-room. Gordon, when she was asked 
 for, always answered that she was well, and then 
 changed the subject immediately. Thereby, perhaps 
 without intending to do so, he contrived to give the 
 impression that his wife s health was a matter best left 
 undiscussed. When he happened to be detained down 
 town he sometimes dined at the club. Oftener he re 
 paired to the club for the evening after dining at home, 
 to take a hand, perhaps, at whist or poker, and hold 
 it into the small hours. A very good clubman, the 
 bachelors declared. And they began to vote him in 
 upon committees, as a jolly good fellow with a faculty 
 for business. These club friends, new and old, were 
 in the habit of asserting, as though they really meant 
 it, that Gordon Wise was devotedly fond of his wife. 
 If some high-spirited being of the opposite sex vent 
 ured to challenge the statement when it had been 
 made in her hearing, good affirmative evidence was 
 promptly forthcoming. Of course, he went to the 
 
 IOI 
 
The Courage of Conviction 
 
 club more or less. But then, his wife was a hopeless 
 invalid. He could not rationally be expected to stay 
 at home holding her hand all the time. 
 
 It would have surprised and grieved Gordon Wise 
 inexpressibly to know that the faintest doubt existed 
 of his affection for Nina. He loved her above all 
 women, and in his own belief the love stood foremost, 
 above all minor things. It was for her that he toiled 
 at the daily occupation which, by degrees, engaged 
 him more and more. He was proud of the perceptible 
 gain in worldly respect, influence, and other material 
 advantages, creature comforts, which could be reck 
 oned her gain as well as his. The sentiment domi 
 nating his courtship and now his married life remained 
 intact, set apart in a shrine, so to speak, and he failed 
 to perceive that its expression had suffered a change 
 which threatened to make it more than defective. His 
 perception sharpened itself on one side at the expense 
 of the other. The commercial instinct is a blessing 
 when kept within bounds, but if carried to excess it 
 may easily become a curse. Gordon Wise had his 
 due proportion of it; and, now that the atmosphere 
 in which he breathed was impregnated therewith, he 
 stood in great danger of reversing the philosopher s 
 order by hitching, not the wagon to the star, but the 
 star to the wagon. 
 
 At that point in his career a very slight thing 
 would, probably, have opened his eyes and changed 
 
 1 02 
 
Prosperity 
 
 his course. There are times when a gentle word 
 means more to a man than a stern command, when 
 the clasp of a child s hand is stronger than a grip of 
 iron. Human fate, so called, seems largely to de 
 pend upon an insensible adjustment arising from the 
 juxtaposition of little things. And in this case the 
 essential word never suggested itself, the tender, in 
 fluential grasp was wholly wanting. Nina, like her 
 father, made self-reliance her dearest virtue. She in 
 herited, too, her mother s spirit of forbearance; no word 
 of complaint stood in her vocabulary. And irrevocably 
 it was decreed that their household would always be 
 a childless one. To them both this knowledge brought 
 bitter disappointment, though each kept the full extent 
 of it studiously concealed from the other. The paternal 
 instinct is second only to its maternal counterpart; 
 and so strong a hold upon us has that civilizing ele 
 ment in rebellious nature that even the most confirmed 
 cynic of celibacy develops secret longings for a child 
 to lead him. Every woman, of course, is a mother 
 at heart, while the rational man, in marrying, eagerly 
 hopes to become a father as well as a husband. When 
 the shadow of their great desire unfulfilled fell between 
 these two they faced the inevitable with a determi 
 nation to make the best, nay, even light of it, before 
 the world. But the shadow darkened, none the less, 
 depriving them as it did of that strongest possible 
 interest known to poor humanity, which they should 
 
 103 
 
The Courage of Conviction 
 
 have shared, and in default thereof giving undue em 
 phasis to individual interests. Greater freedom, in one 
 sense, they certainly had than most husbands and 
 wives of their age and experience; yet, hemmed in, as 
 they were, by circumstance, this very freedom proved 
 to them a graver misfortune than any conceivable from 
 the common service induced by complicated family 
 ties. 
 
 Money-getting, not with a view to miserly accumu 
 lation, but for the sake of what money would buy, was 
 the engrossing pursuit to which Gordon Wise yielded, 
 to which other tastes and desires were subordinated. 
 Naturally open-handed, he entertained lavishly, then 
 extravagantly, and showed a sudden fondness for dis 
 play that provoked a smile from those who contrasted 
 it with the enforced simplicity of his bachelor days. 
 One does not criticise an agreeable host very harshly, 
 however, for setting his standard a trifle too high, and 
 Gordon wore his new luxurious habits so easily and 
 so gracefully that they soon seemed natural to him. 
 He never counted cost, he liked companionship; at 
 his own table he was cordial, genial, tactful always. 
 There these qualities speedily, as such qualities will, 
 surrounded him with a set of friends, among whom 
 he became, for the time being, the acknowledged 
 leader. Business friends they were chiefly, none too 
 profound, yet, on the other hand, seldom dull. All 
 that passed with him for dulness Gordon carefully 
 
 104 
 
Prosperity 
 
 avoided. He was never seen now at formal func 
 tions; he made no effort to do his duty to society. It 
 took very little of that to bore him, as he frankly con 
 fessed. And, in fact, those who knew him well ob 
 served that, even when alone with them, dining among 
 his boon companions, he was almost ill at ease as a 
 guest. Maecenas, to do himself justice, must always 
 sit at his own feast. 
 
 For a time Nina undoubtedly did her best to keep 
 pace with her husband in his business schemes, listen 
 ing patiently to his chronicle of the day s events down 
 town, studying the newspapers to learn the state of 
 the market, and striving to ask him intelligent ques 
 tions. There are women who take a keen enjoyment 
 in such matters, who would even be competent to 
 grasp the situation in a " deal " or a " corner " if oc 
 casion offered. But Nina was not of these. Her 
 resemblance to her father did not extend to com 
 mercial aptitude. On the contrary, facts, figures, and 
 statistics first bewildered, then bored her. The easy 
 lessons learned in them by steady application she 
 failed to remember. The very plans of Nokomis, the 
 aforementioned northwestern port, her father s pet 
 speculation, and consequently her husband s, really 
 interesting in their way, proved little better than blue- 
 and-white perplexities to her. She began desperately 
 to perceive that her questions, far from being intelli 
 gent, were mere betrayals of stupidity, and she ceased 
 
 105 
 
The Courage of Conviction 
 
 to put them. While Gordon, on his side, refrained 
 more and more from entering into details of his daily 
 life when he talked with her, and contented himself 
 with the simplest general statements. His wife be 
 came by degrees the exponent of household affairs, 
 in managing which she displayed what seemed to him 
 unusual skill. This was her line, evidently, and with 
 it he scarcely needed to concern himself at all. She 
 was the power behind the throne at the quiet dinners 
 which went off so well without her, a fact that Gor 
 don frequently emphasized when the time came for 
 an informal toast after the note of praise had been 
 sounded. What wonder if the guests who drank her 
 health felt, as they did so, that their hospitable host 
 was particularly fortunate in his wife, and went away 
 prepared to insist that the sympathy between the two 
 had never known a parallel ? 
 
 Nina s most intimate friend was still Suzette Brink- 
 ley, who had the keenest possible sense of loyalty, and 
 would have died rather than betray her confidence 
 by any word or sign. But in all that related to her 
 individual happiness or the reverse, Nina, so frank 
 and open upon other matters, far from confiding, ex 
 erted herself to deceive. In this defective world of 
 ours one might almost as reasonably expect to find 
 a heaven on earth as a perfect intimacy. Life s little 
 game of give and take never can be played with the 
 cards upon the table. We must submit to our friends 
 
 106 
 
Prosperity 
 
 reserves, be blind to scars, and, if the unhealed wound 
 exists, be careful not to probe it. As an offset, we 
 are free to follow a similar line of concealment on 
 our own side. The weak points, which youth leaves 
 unguarded, experience learns to protect, more or less 
 skilfully, as the case may be. For, as no two natures 
 are alike, the barriers are always unequal. In this 
 particular instance Nina constructed her Chinese wall 
 with so much care that her friend had for a long 
 time but the faintest suspicion of what lay behind it; 
 and the suspicion, as aforesaid, no human power could 
 have induced that loyal friend to reveal. 
 
 Suzette, though just of Nina s age, was much 
 younger in experience, and, still cherishing youthful 
 illusions about confidence, fancied herself as open as 
 the day, or as she innocently conceived it her duty to 
 be with one to whom she had sworn eternal friendship. 
 Yet the conscientious performance of duty is some 
 times no easy matter, and Miss Brinkley found herself 
 unexpectedly embarrassed when she was brought face 
 to face with it in a morning talk with Mrs. Wise. The 
 morning was a fine autumn one, rather more than a 
 year after their visit together at Brinkwood. They 
 had been separated during the summer months, and 
 Suzette, returning to town for the winter, looked in 
 upon Nina, whom she found languidly reclining in 
 her boudoir, busy with housekeeping accounts. But 
 these were all postponed for a friendly comparison of 
 
 107 
 
The Courage of Conviction 
 
 notes, which, following their natural sequence, finally 
 brought up at Newport, where Miss Brinkley had 
 passed the last few days. Concerning her adventures 
 there she wished to make a small disclosure, but in 
 trying to determine how to begin it she grew preoc 
 cupied, hesitated in her speech, and helplessly left 
 one of her sentences unfinished. After an awkward 
 pause Nina looked up in surprise, remarking : 
 
 "The Selbys were there, you say?" 
 
 " Yes, the Selbys." 
 
 "And who else? Any men?" 
 
 " Only Hammond Long. And he " 
 
 Here speech failed Miss Brinkley for the second 
 time. She changed color, and became absorbed in the 
 complicated pattern of the Persian rug. 
 
 " Why, Suzette, dear, what is the matter with 
 you ? " asked Mrs. Wise, suddenly receiving a new 
 impression, which she desired to confirm without 
 delay. 
 
 " Why, the fact is that I have something to tell you. 
 We must tell each other everything, dear, mustn t 
 we?" 
 
 " Of course," declared Nina, with ready duplicity; 
 " everything; but you need not tell me this. I know; 
 it is Mr. Long." 
 
 " Yes, dear, it is," said Miss Brinkley, turning scar 
 let; "though how you guessed so quickly I can t see. 
 I never thought of such a thing, really never until 
 
 1 08 
 
Prosperity 
 
 we met this time at Newport. Then I began to won 
 der if, and then, one afternoon, when we were on 
 the cliff-walk alone, he asked me. He talked so 
 earnestly, so modestly about himself. He seemed 
 to care so much; he is really a good fellow, you 
 see." 
 
 " I see. And you said yes. " 
 
 " Why, no; that s just it, Nina dear. I have always 
 liked him, and I told him so, as I tell you. But, some 
 how, I could not make myself say any more then. So 
 I said no. " 
 
 "You have refused him?" 
 
 " No; for he would not be refused. He could not 
 take my answer then, he said. He insisted that I 
 must consider it a little longer. It was only fair to 
 him, he declared, to think the matter over, and write 
 him my final decision at the end of the week. What 
 could I do? It was left so. And the week ends to 
 morrow." 
 
 " I understand. You have not answered." 
 
 " Precisely. And how am I to answer, that is the 
 question? It sounds very absurd, yet I really do not 
 know whether I love the man or not. I like him, 
 and I can t bear to think of making him unhappy, or 
 making him detest me, perhaps. But that is all. 
 I wanted to tell you this to ask your advice." 
 
 Nina, full of interest, was sitting up now, alert, with 
 heightened color. 
 
 109 
 
The Courage of Conviction 
 
 " How can I advise? " she asked, after a moment s 
 thought. " You are the one to decide. You must do 
 it alone, you know, after all. No one else can be of 
 any use. Yet I cannot help thinking that, so far 
 as I am able to judge, your question answers it 
 self." 
 
 " My doubt proves, you mean, that I do not love 
 Mr. Long well enough to marry him." 
 
 " Suzette, answer me one question. Could you let 
 the world go, and live only for him, alone with him, 
 in a lighthouse, on an island ? " 
 
 Miss Brinkley smiled. "What a question!" she 
 said, emphatically. " There is no man living with 
 whom I could do that." 
 
 " Then, my dear, don t marry this one. It will be 
 hard to write your no, I admit ; hard to make him 
 unhappy, as you will, for a time. But that is surely 
 better than to bring unhappiness upon you both for 
 life afterward." 
 
 Speaking thus very gently, yet with a note of con 
 straint in her voice that was unusual, Mrs. Wise looked 
 down at her left hand and adjusted the rings upon it, 
 as if their momentary relation to one another were a 
 matter of supreme importance. Suzette sat motion 
 less and silent, resolutely keeping back the tears which 
 strove to fill her eyes. Then, rising, she stooped and 
 kissed her friend, impulsively. 
 
 " Thank you, dear," she said. " I am the one to 
 IIO 
 
Prosperity 
 
 decide, of course, the only one. Well, I have de 
 cided. I really think that my mind was made up, and 
 that I merely wanted to be justified. It is always so, 
 I suppose, when we ask advice. To marry Mr. Long 
 would be a cruel mistake on my part ; that is perfectly 
 clear." 
 
 " You will do what is best, I know," replied Nina, 
 taking her offered hand. " But don t go yet, please 
 don t. Let us talk of something else. I have fifty 
 questions to ask you." 
 
 They were questions of Newport and the world, to 
 which, at first, Miss Brinkley gave the simplest an 
 swers. Then, coming to herself, she went merrily on 
 in her own way with amiable gossip of one acquaint 
 ance and another, till at last she introduced a name 
 that Nina had been careful not to speak, though it 
 interested her more than all the rest. 
 
 " Oh! and by the way," incoherently remarked the 
 visitor, " I almost forgot to tell you. I heard at New 
 port that our old friend, Paul Hemming, has come 
 home again. I have not seen him yet, but he has 
 been in the country several days." 
 
 "Has he, indeed? For a visit, I suppose." 
 
 " Not at all, to live. He means to establish him 
 self here in a new studio. An American must flourish 
 as best he can in America, he says. Quite splendid in 
 him, I think, considering what a risk the change must 
 be and what he sacrifices! His success in Paris has 
 
 ill 
 
The Courage of Conviction 
 
 been really wonderful. A medal at this year s Salon, 
 and the picture, a portrait, immediately snapped up 
 by the State for the Luxembourg! The men over 
 there think that he has lost his senses. They urged 
 him to stay on and follow up the hit he has made at 
 his own prices. He might so easily become the fashion 
 there. It is all a question of that in portrait-painting, 
 you know. But he simply would not listen." 
 
 " Why should he? He brings his reputation with 
 him. Let him become the fashion here." 
 
 " Yes, that is what he hopes to do, no doubt. But 
 there the thing was almost assured, and in New 
 York he must begin all over again, they told him. 
 Our buyers have a stupid habit of going to Europe 
 for their fine arts. His argument is that another year 
 in Paris would make an exile of him, and that exile 
 is intolerable. He would rather starve at home, he 
 says, than submit to it. He will devote himself en 
 tirely to portraits at first, though this is by no means 
 what he cares most to do. Why do you look at me 
 so hard?" 
 
 Nina laughed. " A cat may look at a king, they 
 say, or at a queen. You seem to know Mr. Hem- 
 ming s plans, his arguments, his inmost thoughts by 
 heart, my dear." 
 
 " Nonsense! " returned Miss Brinkley, laughing, too, 
 but with a shade of annoyance. " I heard the whole 
 story from Margaret Selby, who has already given 
 
 112 
 
Prosperity 
 
 him a commission. She admires his work immensely, 
 and thinks that he should be encouraged. Naturally, 
 the whole experiment is most interesting, and so, 
 naturally, I I that s all. Can t you see? Can t you 
 understand? " 
 
 " Oh, yes ! " laughed Mrs. Wise. " The experiment 
 is much more interesting than Mr. Long s." 
 
 "Nina! How can you?" cried Suzette, in a flush 
 of indignation. " I haven t seen the man for years; 
 I hardly know him!" Her eyes flashed, her hand 
 trembled. It was touch and go between tears and a 
 quarrel. 
 
 "Oh, Suzette! Really! It was only a joke, a child 
 ish one, so stupid, so silly of me! I didn t mean 
 anything; you know I didn t." 
 
 " Of course, you didn t. And I m an idiot, an im 
 becile," confessed Miss Brinkley, cheerfully. Then 
 both laughed; the sun burst through the cloud, and 
 the threatened danger was averted. 
 
 But a few moments later, when her guest had taken 
 leave, after an affectionate interchange of smiles and 
 embraces, Mrs. Wise grew grave again. She lay still 
 for some time, with closed eyes and brow slowly con 
 tracting, as if with pain. Then, half turning, she looked 
 at the reflection of her face in a small glass that stood 
 on the table at her side. 
 
 " How white it is! " she moaned. " Such a fearful 
 headache ! " Turning toward the wall, she rang the 
 
The Courage of Conviction 
 
 bell. " I shall not come down to luncheon," she told 
 the maid. " Bring me something here. A cup of tea, 
 that is all. And draw the shade down, lower, 
 lower, please ! " 
 
X 
 
 THE HAMMER AND THE ANVIL 
 
 T T PON landing in New York after his long ab- 
 ^ sence, Paul Hemming had gone directly into 
 the country to visit the rich amateur who, by his com 
 missions, had made the painter s Italian journey pos 
 sible. And he was still under his patron s roof when, 
 some days later, two days, in fact, after Suzette 
 Brinkley s morning call upon Nina, there came a 
 letter from Gordon Wise claiming the right to his 
 next visit. His room was ready; he should be his 
 own master, free to come and go as he liked; but in 
 the name of their old friendship, both the writer and 
 his wife insisted upon having him as their guest, if 
 only for a few days, before he settled down. This was 
 the cordial tone of the invitation, which Hemming at 
 first tossed aside with a bitter laugh. That is a little 
 hard! " he muttered. " For what do they take me?" 
 As if his peculiar state of mind about their marriage 
 were an open book. But he had gained ground since 
 the broken day in San Gimignano, when the news 
 came with startling significance to serve as a glass 
 for his own sad reflection. The very next morning, 
 indeed, he had forced himself back to work upon his 
 
The Courage of Conviction 
 
 copy of the Santa Fina, manfully looking his sorrow 
 in the face, with the conviction that, since heroic treat 
 ment was essential, the sooner it began the better. As 
 a rational being he must meet the world and his share 
 of its conflict without morbid repining. Hours of re 
 action, even days which were wholly despondent, had 
 followed. But through all these his resolution to fight 
 had triumphed. Was not the unexpected form which 
 sorrow now assumed due entirely to himself? Cold 
 comfort this, perhaps; but even cold comfort is better 
 than none at all in dealing with the inevitable. 
 
 So, at this later day, after a momentary struggle, 
 Hemming reversed his judgment, and decided to ac 
 cept his friend s invitation. A refusal, even in the 
 strongest terms of regret, w r ould have an unfriendly 
 air, sure to offend. He could not deal thus with his 
 old comrade. Solely on this ground, as he declared 
 to himself, he fixed the date of his visit, and prepared 
 for the new trial, a part of the inevitable, to be lived 
 down like the rest. But behind this simple motive 
 lay another, scarce admitted, which, no doubt, he 
 would have indignantly disclaimed; that, namely, of 
 a dangerous curiosity to see Nina in her new relation, 
 intimately, as the daily intercourse of the proposed 
 visit would enable him to do. He had a strange, half- 
 developed longing to watch and study her under the 
 changed conditions. Did he hope, then, for any lin 
 gering trace of the feeling toward him which he 
 
 116 
 
The Hammer and the Anvil 
 
 believed to have existed formerly? Certainly not. 
 And nothing could have been farther from his thoughts 
 than to betray by any word or sign the present state 
 of his own mind regarding her. No; it was merely a 
 survival of childhood, that may crop out occasionally 
 in any man to his dying day a restless, reckless in 
 clination to play with fire, lighting the match and 
 starting the blaze for the fun of the thing, in the belief 
 that the dreadful element, subject to its controlling 
 force, may be quenched at a moment s warning. 
 
 Late in the twilight of a November afternoon Gor 
 don brought home his guest, accordingly, to begin 
 his visit in the most conventional manner possible. 
 Nina was seated at the tea-table, from which she rose 
 to receive Mr. Hemming with a friendly air, so pleas 
 antly familiar that, after the first word or two, his 
 own freedom from constraint surprised him. With 
 out awkward pauses they were soon discussing the 
 day s affairs, as if they had parted but the day before. 
 She had changed very little, as he thought, when he was 
 left alone to dress for dinner; somewhat older, some 
 what paler, perhaps, yet she was still the same. So the 
 dreaded situation passed, without the shock which he 
 had half expected. There had been nothing of the 
 kind on her part, at all events: nothing apparent at 
 least, as he was sure, on his own. 
 
 At table the talk, led by his host, ran lightly on, 
 while Hemming silently noted the comfortable ap- 
 
 117 
 
The Courage of Conviction 
 
 pointments of the room, the faultless service. Long 
 before the meal ended, yielding to its genial glow, he 
 forgot the strangeness of the new conditions. Not 
 until afterward did it occur to him that Gordon s own 
 affairs had formed the chief topic of conversation, the 
 personal pronoun coming to the front more frequently 
 than any other; and he was able to dismiss the after 
 thought with the sense that this was not unnatural, 
 in view of their long separation. So Nina must have 
 considered it, since she made no attempt to stem the 
 tide of self-obtrusion. Her attitude was mainly one 
 of light and cheerful acquiescence, heavily clouded 
 for a few moments, however, when Hemming in 
 quired the state of her mother s health. He earnestly 
 wished that he had thought twice before becoming 
 solicitous about that, for Mrs. Stanwood was far from 
 well, as it proved. The subject was changed imme 
 diately, but the anxious look it brought in Nina s face 
 was slow to disappear. The too inquisitive guest had 
 touched and rattled inadvertently one of the skeletons 
 in this well-ordered household. 
 
 As Mrs. Wise, according to her husband s statement, 
 approved of tobacco-smoke, the two men followed her 
 at once into the drawing-room. There the friendly 
 guest, expanding like a flower through the favorable 
 influences of time and place, was moved to say what 
 joy he took in them, and to compliment the master 
 and mistress of the house upon its ample provision 
 
 118 
 
The Hammer and the Anvil 
 
 for his comfort. Gordon brushed away the pleasant 
 speeches with a smile, admitting that all was passably 
 well in its way, but adding that he found the way far 
 too narrow a one for him. He had outgrown it, as he 
 said, and, feeling cramped at every turn, needed room 
 to stretch himself. " But I am providing that, as no 
 doubt you have heard," he continued. Then, upon 
 Hemming s inquiring look, he left the room for a 
 moment, to come back with a huge roll of papers, 
 which he spread out upon the table. "See! This is 
 my new house up town ; the walls are half done ; I 
 shall roof in before the snow comes. Ask for me 
 a year hence, and you shall find me a comfortable 
 man ! " 
 
 Hemming drew up to the table, and listened to an 
 explanation of the drawings, in which it was clear 
 that their possessor took unbounded enjoyment. The 
 change contemplated was, indeed, for the better; so 
 much better, in fact, that the scale might well have 
 been called grand in contrast to existing conditions. 
 Gordon s self-gratification in the fact grew as he pro 
 ceeded. But Hemming soon observed that Mrs. Wise 
 did not profess to share it. Without so much as a 
 glance at the plans, leaving all the talk to her husband, 
 she sat apart, listless, immovable, staring into the fire. 
 Until, after a full half-hour of silent indifference, she 
 rose abruptly to murmur a suitably courteous good 
 night, and glide away. If the smile upon her lips, as 
 
 119 
 
The Courage of Conviction 
 
 she turned at the door, was intended to disguise her 
 fatigue, it failed completely; but whether the fatigue 
 was mental or physical Hemming could not be sure. 
 Had he caught a glimpse of another skeleton in the 
 house? he asked himself. If so, the accident was not 
 due this time to any heedlessness of his. Perhaps he 
 had misconceived the case, detecting hidden disturb 
 ances where none existed. This train of thought led 
 him, naturally enough, into a mild indiscretion. 
 
 " Mrs. Wise looks a little tired," said he. " She is 
 well, I hope." 
 
 " Tired? Oh, no; not a bit of it! " Gordon replied. 
 " She is well, perfectly well. Have a cigar, my dear 
 fellow! This is the best hour of the day; I am a night- 
 owl always." 
 
 So they talked on by the fire, through that best hour 
 and another, or, rather, while Paul listened, it was 
 Gordon who talked of his own personal relation to 
 the world, of his past success, his prospects, his 
 schemes, and his desires. Only once, for a time, was 
 their attitude in the conversation reversed, when Gor 
 don expressed anxiety to know upon what work Paul 
 was engaged. But it soon appeared that the painter 
 had misunderstood the question, which referred less 
 to the work itself than to the sum of money likely to 
 be made out of it. Paul, though he could not wholly 
 disregard the commercial side of his affairs, had reso 
 lutely given this a secondary place. To produce the 
 
 1 20 
 
The Hammer and the Anvil 
 
 best that was in him still remained the head and front 
 of his ambition. If that brought butter for his bread, 
 well and good; butter was palatable, and not to be 
 despised. But if, on the contrary, no butter was forth 
 coming, he must eat dry bread without complaint. 
 Pot-boiling, of which the world is always ready to 
 speak so glibly, was to Paul Hemming an impossible 
 offence. The odious term should have no place in an 
 artist s dictionary. With difficulty concealing his im 
 patience, therefore, at Gordon s tone in the matter, he 
 soon led the conversation back into its former channel. 
 "What an irrepressible egotist you have become!" 
 he thought, a little later, when Gordon had closed the 
 chamber-door upon him, and he was left alone for the 
 night. Upon the hearth glowed the embers of a fire. 
 He stirred them, and sat down. " She has found him 
 out! " he muttered, " and she is far from happy. What 
 fiend led me, of all men, here to pry into their secrets? 
 The first strain is over, but it was harder than I 
 thought; it will grow harder every day, every hour. 
 Would to God I were out of it! " 
 
 A small rack of books stood on the table beside 
 him. He looked at their titles, and fancied that they 
 had been carefully chosen for his benefit. A volume 
 of Dauclet, another of Dumas, Fromentin s Old Mas 
 ters, Leconte de Lisle, the reflections of the cynic 
 Chamfort. He took up the last, and, opening it at 
 random, read two lines: 
 
 121 
 
The Courage of Conviction 
 
 " One must be hammer or anvil in this world. The 
 heart must break or bronze." 
 
 He closed the book and laid it down. " The ham 
 mer or the anvil! " he repeated with a shiver, drawing 
 toward the chimney-corner to touch the last brand of 
 the fire in an attempt to revive its flame. But the 
 charred fragment sank into the ashes, gray and cold. 
 " The hammer and the anvil it should be, with the 
 heart between them, sacrificed perversely to their ten 
 der mercies! It cannot break, it must not; it will only 
 bruise, and bronze! But hers? But hers?" He 
 shivered again, and walked the room nervously, to 
 overcome its chill. " But hers ? Who shall say it is 
 not already broken? And what is that to me? She 
 has her sorrows, I have mine; yet our paths lie wide 
 apart, they are not even parallel, but diametrically 
 opposed. She must live her life. But, good God, 
 what a life! Ah, why did I intrude upon it to consider 
 these things? " 
 
 So, brooding round the circle to the point of depart 
 ure, he went to bed and tossed into troubled dreams. 
 But morning brought a calmer frame of mind, with 
 a disposition to leave " without regard things without 
 all remedy." It was an unexpected relief to find that 
 Mrs. Wise would not appear at breakfast. The hurried 
 meal he ate in Gordon s company. Thence each de 
 parted to take up the day s practical affairs. Hem- 
 ming s day was given over to sitters, who left him 
 
 122 
 
The Hammer and the Anvil 
 
 little time for thought that did not directly concern 
 his work. Walking back to Wise s house in the dusk 
 he blessed the good fortune which had bestowed upon 
 him this distraction from his inner self. Twenty-four 
 hours of his uncomfortable visit were already over, 
 and there were to be guests at dinner, as he knew. The 
 more of these that came, the better; he found safety 
 in their possible numbers; the hours to be passed 
 alone with his host and hostess were the ones he 
 dreaded; above all, a tcte-a-tete with Nina. Anything 
 but this ! Yet he need not waste fear upon it, per 
 haps, since their first day had been so well considered. 
 The others would fly fast, and, with a little care on 
 his part, the dreadful experience might be avoided. 
 Most devoutly he hoped so! 
 
 But the hope failed him. The fiends were at work, 
 and they brought all their cunning to bear upon the 
 mischance, which came through a combination of ac 
 cidents when it was least expected. Hemming s visit 
 had worn nearly to its close, with a perceptible in 
 crease in the weight of his secret discomfort. Inti 
 mate daily life, with the close observation that it 
 provoked, tended only to confirm his first judgment. 
 Gordon s absorption was purely individual, leaving him 
 blind to his wife s inert acquiescence, to the unhappi- 
 ness which she tried so hard to disguise, while her 
 attitude distressed the partial observer more and more. 
 So the life went on to a certain day, when Gordon 
 
 123 
 
The Courage of Conviction 
 
 announced at breakfast that the guests of the even 
 ing had given out unexpectedly, and that the three 
 would dine alone. But upon Hemming s return at 
 night Nina met him with the news that her husband 
 was detained down town. He had sent word that, 
 owing to the arrival of a Western magnate whose in 
 fluence was all-powerful, his evening must be given 
 up to business. Their guest would understand and 
 forgive him. But the guest, despite his smiling assur 
 ance to this effect, inwardly cursed his inauspicious 
 star. 
 
 So the two, with a closer interchange of thought 
 suddenly thrust upon them, sat down at the table, and 
 began to talk with constrained lightness, in happy-go- 
 lucky fashion, of anything that came up, of almost 
 everything, in fact, except of what must inevitably 
 have been nearest their hearts. Before long Hemming 
 felt that he had never worked so hard to say so little. 
 It seemed to him that he was chattering nonsense 
 which would have discredited the idlest butterfly of a 
 ball-room. But Mrs. Wise persistently forced the note, 
 wafting the gossamer web of their ideas higher and 
 higher, without so much as a single lapse to any rea 
 sonable level. In accomplishing this she showed a 
 captivating side, which Hemming had half forgotten. 
 There was more in it of the youthful, irresponsible 
 Nina Stanwood, devoted only to the joy of the fleeting 
 moment, than of Nina Wise. 
 
 124 
 
The Hammer and the Anvil 
 
 When they returned to the drawing-room after din 
 ner the light vein still continued, while the servants 
 came and went, bringing the coffee and stirring the fire. 
 But as soon as the two were finally left alone a reaction 
 set in. Nina s high spirits seemed suddenly to die 
 away; there was a long silence, during which Hem 
 ming, watching her furtively between the puffs of his 
 cigar, for she had directed that he should smoke, 
 believed that she showed signs of nervous exhaustion. 
 He was about to urge her to treat him unceremoni 
 ously by dismissing all fear of his inability to entertain 
 himself, when Mrs. Wise resumed the conversation, 
 with a difference, by an inquiry about his work; and, 
 following this up in one or two well-chosen leading 
 questions, she soon induced him to speak unreservedly 
 of it, of his plans, of his prospects. The snare was 
 spread, and, caught unawares, he permitted himself to 
 be drawn on into confidences. Nina moved to a low 
 seat by the fire, where, no longer restless, with her 
 hands quietly clasped, she listened patiently, sympa 
 thetically, and approved. Then she, herself, uncon 
 sciously became involved in her own meshes, so cun 
 ningly set for him; forgetting how surely confidence 
 induces confidence, when all conditions are favorable. 
 So, as Hemming stopped short in the middle of a 
 sentence, with a sudden apprehension of discoursing 
 too long upon his personal affairs, she sighed, and 
 said: 
 
 125 
 
The Courage of Conviction 
 
 "How you are to be envied! To follow the art 
 you love, and follow it so wisely! " 
 
 " Wisely? " he repeated, smiling. " Do you admit 
 so much? I suppose, then, you have quite forgot 
 ten your urgent advice to follow it in a different 
 way." 
 
 The color in her face slowly deepened, and she held 
 out her open fan to protect herself from the blaze. 
 " No," she said, without looking up, " I have not for 
 gotten. Yet I am quite willing to admit that I was 
 wrong. I only feared that you might stay away alto 
 gether, as other painters, indeed, have done. But 
 the years have brought you back, stronger for the 
 experience, still true, I am convinced, to your 
 ideal." 
 
 " I hope so ! " said Hemming, sighing in his turn. 
 
 "I am sure of it," she insisted. "Ah! if Gordon 
 could have done the same! If he could follow his 
 chosen profession, as you follow yours! " 
 
 " He has what I have not," Hemming returned, 
 quickly. " And, for the matter of that, why shouldn t 
 he yield to his artistic tastes, and follow them to the 
 top of his bent, professionally or otherwise, in his 
 leisure hours? " 
 
 "No, no; you do not understand. That is impos 
 sible, for more reasons than one. To begin with, he 
 pledged himself to forget them. It was the price he 
 paid." 
 
 126 
 
The Hammer and the Anvil 
 
 " I see. He has lost, and gained; I gain, and lose. 
 One score offsets the other, since there never was a 
 perfect life in this world. Who shall say which of us 
 has won the game? " 
 
 Nina shook her head. "The game?" she asked; 
 "what is the game? Happiness? If so, it can never 
 be won by the pursuit of money for its own sake. And 
 there is Gordon s danger. It absorbs him more and 
 more. I fear that he has come to care for very little 
 else. You must have seen the change in him." 
 
 " He is a business man," returned Hemming, 
 evasively, " and, naturally, he makes business his first 
 thought. It need not be his only one." 
 
 " No; but it will be, unless his eyes are opened. And 
 how is that to be done? Your influence might ac 
 complish much. He believes in you, admires you. 
 Who knows? A word from you, perhaps, would turn 
 the scale. Say the word, I implore you, before it is 
 too late. Convince him, if you can, that his standard 
 of success is a false standard!" 
 
 She had turned upon him with an appealing look 
 for which and for her spoken appeal he was so little 
 prepared that his own look wandered away, and when 
 she finished speaking his eyes avoided hers. There 
 was an embarrassing silence, broken, at last, by her. 
 
 " You think it would do no good," she said, hope 
 lessly. 
 
 " More than that," he replied. " I fear that such a 
 127 
 
The Courage of Conviction 
 
 word from me might do positive harm. Either he 
 would not listen, or, suspecting who prompted the word, 
 would take offence at it. In either case, all I could say 
 would be worse than useless. But with you the case is 
 different. You have the right to speak. Why not do 
 so frankly? Be just to him ! If the means obscure the 
 end, the end is always there. The success he aims at is 
 all for you." 
 
 " For me ! " she began, mournfully ; her first impulse 
 being to assure him that she had good reason to believe 
 the contrary. Then, suddenly aware that her disclosure 
 of imperfect sympathies had already gone farther than 
 she intended, she checked herself, and began anew, with 
 an attempt at cheerfulness : 
 
 " Yes, you are right, entirely right. It is I who must 
 speak, of course, as I should have spoken before. I 
 have been foolish, exacting ; I have expected too much 
 of Gordon, forgetting how much he readily gave up for 
 me. It is nothing, after all, nothing that a single word 
 will not set right. Forget my absurd complaint, which 
 is only the expression of a mood. We women have so 
 many, but it is always a mistake, such a mistake, 
 to betray them ! " 
 
 And Hemming, not deceived in the least, suffered her 
 to believe in the completeness of her small deception. 
 The dangerous subject, thus dismissed, was not re 
 sumed. Only afterward, he reproached himself for 
 withholding a full measure of his sympathy. 
 
 128 
 
The Hammer and the Anvil 
 
 " It is written that I shall fail her always at the criti 
 cal moment ! " he thought, bitterly. " And there is no 
 help for it. I settled the question, long ago. I can only 
 plunge on miserably from one false step to another, 
 hiding the truth that I learned too late, that it would be 
 madness to reveal. It is written, it is written ! Mein 
 Lieb, wir sollen Beide elend sein! " 
 
 " He might help me, if he would ! " at the same mo 
 ment Nina was thinking. " But he shrank from giving 
 offence, pitiful excuse ! For me life and death are in 
 the balance, and he thinks of himself first, as all men 
 do!" 
 
 So, in the hidden confusion of misunderstanding, 
 with the calmest pressure of the hand on both sides, 
 Hemming s visit ended a day or two later, convention 
 ally, as it began. He devoted himself zealously to his 
 work, and for some time, as chance willed it, saw no 
 more of Mrs. Gordon Wise. But the same chance, or 
 mischance, willed that he should think of her more than 
 ever. Scarcely a week after leaving her roof, he read 
 in his newspaper the announcement of her mother s 
 death; and he was told that, though Mrs. Stanwood s 
 health had been steadily failing, the shock had come 
 with a swiftness for which Nina was unprepared ; that, 
 entirely crushed by it, she refused to be consoled, de 
 nying herself even to intimate friends. All his barriers 
 of reserve went down before the knowledge of what 
 this grief must mean to her. He wrote a long, sympa- 
 
 129 
 
The Courage of Conviction 
 
 thetic letter, every word of which came from the heart. 
 This letter was left unanswered. He had begged her 
 not to acknowledge it, hoping, all the while, that she 
 would disobey him. 
 
 130 
 
XI 
 
 CLOUD- CAPPED TOWERS 
 
 THE matter which detained Gordon Wise down 
 town on the night of Nina s impulsive effort to 
 confide in Hemming was of graver importance than the 
 hurried note to her had suggested. The Western mag 
 nate, Mr. Bullifant, whom Anthony Stanwood desired 
 that Gordon should meet, brought very stirring news, 
 of a kind to compel immediate, decisive action. It was 
 a great year ; the harvest had been magnificent ; the 
 " boom," without exaggeration, might be called un 
 precedented. And this boom their splendid city of 
 Nokomis, the only true, natural port of the Northwest, 
 should accept at its worth, and, as that high authority 
 eloquently foreordained, sweep straight along to glory ! 
 If they doubted him, let them consider for an instant 
 the rival town, Wenonah ! A few years ago Wenonah 
 was a group of hovels in a wilderness ; now, she was 
 forging ahead, blowing her own trumpet, snorting and 
 foaming like a race-horse, on the crest of this mighty 
 wave of prosperity which surged over the land from 
 the rising to the setting sun. Why, did they realize 
 that Wenonah was building brick blocks by the dozen, 
 and that she actually claimed a population equal to 
 
The Courage of Conviction 
 
 theirs of Nokomis at the last census? The claim was 
 absurd, of course, everybody, who knew, understood 
 that, they were counting chickens that would never 
 hatch, even with the aid of patent incubators; but 
 everybody did not know, unfortunately, and very thick 
 wool was being pulled over innocent eyes with shame 
 ful impudence. Something had got to be done, by all 
 that was holy, right off, too, or Nokomis and the whole 
 country with her would go, post-haste, to the devil ! 
 And that was God s truth ! 
 
 Thus Mr. Bullifant held forth to Anthony Stanwood 
 and his son-in-law, while the three dined together, pri 
 vately, in a restaurant of lower Broadway. His argu 
 ments, based upon a sagacity that had been tried and 
 approved, carried far too much weight for the doubt 
 of which he so valiantly offered them the benefit. Mr. 
 Bullifant was of Canadian origin ; but the family had 
 transferred its allegiance to the stars and stripes in the 
 time of his grandfather, who, after an easy-going fash 
 ion not uncommon, had quietly adopted the current 
 perversion of his patronymic, Bellefontaine. The 
 present speaker, one of the city fathers of Nokomis, 
 was a marked man in his section of the country, which 
 he had represented in Congress, where, from his 
 enormous stature, he had been nicknamed the " Big 
 Injun." In truth, mentally, as well as physically, he 
 was vast, expansive, florid ; excessively so, his enemies 
 said. But in the opinion of his constituents, a pow- 
 
 132 
 
Cloud- Capp d Towers 
 
 erful faction, his grasp of things was keen and com 
 prehensive, and he looked toward the future from a tow 
 ering height. In their words, " His say-so went ! " 
 
 When this fulminating Sir Oracle proclaimed God s 
 truth, therefore, in the statement that something had 
 got to be done, Anthony Stanwood knew what it meant ; 
 and he declared himself ready to do anything and 
 everything, as he expressed it, " to down Wenonah." 
 Not only were his large interests in Nokomis at stake, 
 but his absolute power over a dominion, which, as the 
 Winnipeg King, he had been accustomed to call his 
 own, was also in jeopardy. Wenonah must be downed 
 without delay; if she was building dozens of brick 
 blocks, Nokomis should build them by the hundred ; 
 they would push the new electric railway out in all di 
 rections, he pledged himself to that ; they would hus 
 tle with the Court House, hustle with the City Hall. 
 His face flushed, his eyes snapped, and his schemes of 
 improvement grew, as he talked, like a snow-ball. It 
 presently appeared that what Nokomis really needed 
 was the largest and highest office-building in the coun 
 try, in the country, mind you, sir, with Mr. Bullifant 
 to stand upon its summit and roar until the boom of 
 Nokomis resounded to the Gulf of Mexico. " And by 
 the Lord ! " shouted the Winnipeg King, as he pounded 
 the table till the glasses rattled, " by the Lord, Bullifant, 
 you shall have it ! " 
 
 The spirit of destruction was aroused to aid and abet 
 
 133 
 
The Courage of Conviction 
 
 the spirit of avarice. Indeed, the latter " good old-gen 
 tlemanly vice," for the time being, merely danced at 
 tendance upon blood and rapine. To the Winnipeg 
 King and his barbarous confederate the thought of 
 stamping out Wenonah was even more inspiring than 
 the hope of incalculable gain. Gordon sat silently by, 
 an amused spectator of their savage frenzy, in which 
 the main lines of an aggressive campaign were hastily 
 determined. He knew that all their fortunes depended 
 upon the issue, yet the knowledge brought him no un 
 easiness. The meridian splendor of Mr. Stanwood s 
 sound financial judgment reduced apprehensible shad 
 ows to their lowest terms. 
 
 So the train was laid, the mine was fired, and in a 
 few days, with the Winnipeg King s reserves at his 
 back, the Big Injun returned to the war-path for con 
 fusion to his enemies. Thence, in due course, were 
 flashed eastward glowing reports of his success. He 
 had worked the legislature for all it was worth, knock 
 ing the ground from beneath Wenonah s feet; nay, 
 leaving her no leg to stand upon ! And from her ashes 
 Nokomis soared like the phoenix, fabled bird of old! 
 This, three months later, was the situation in Mr. Bulli- 
 f ant s discerning but not wholly unprejudiced eyes. 
 Meanwhile, the city fathers of Wenonah, looking their 
 way upon the self-same prospect, had the audacity to 
 tell their eastern correspondents a very different story. 
 According to that, Nokomis, straining every nerve to 
 
 134 
 
Cloud-Capp d Towers 
 
 advance, had overtaxed her strength, and was already 
 floundering pathetically. Any fool could see that the 
 Wenonah route was much the shorter one to tide-water. 
 Hers, therefore, was the only true terminus toward 
 which all the freight lines of the continent now con 
 verged. The daily increase in shipments proved that 
 the wise had already taken their easy lesson to heart. 
 Figures could not lie, however bellowing braggarts 
 might strive to distort the honest facts. Let the treach 
 erous boom once slacken for a single hour, and all rose- 
 colored clouds of that sort would be dispelled. Then, 
 the world would see ! 
 
 Though the spring brought heavy rains of long con 
 tinuance, threatening ruin to the crops, the boom still 
 held its own, apparently unchecked. But, in the midst 
 of it all, Nokomis encountered one of those sudden 
 gusts of misfortune which Fate, from her plentiful 
 store, delights to set free without a moment s warning. 
 Fire, of uncontrollable fury, swept over it in the night, 
 and when morning came its finest quarter was laid low 
 in smouldering ash-heaps. This trial was a severe one ; 
 yet, after the first shock, Mr. Bullifant and his asso 
 ciates made light of it resolutely, even to the point of 
 declining the aid from Wenonah, magnanimously of 
 fered with expressions of sympathy, which were given 
 wide publicity; while, at the same moment, these too 
 eager benefactors of the rival city exchanged covert al 
 lusions to that overworked bird of fable the phoenix, 
 
 135 
 
The Courage of Conviction 
 
 which now Nokomis might generate, herself, if she 
 pleased, from her own rich bed of ashes. Similar ref 
 erences were made openly, with the utmost gravity, by 
 the eastern capitalists who stood behind Nokomis, the 
 stalwart Anthony Stanwood and the time-honored 
 house of Harvey, Long and Co. being prominent among 
 them. Her progress, they declared, might be retarded 
 but not arrested by a disaster which, sooner or later, 
 was the common lot of cities ; in proof whereof they 
 began their process of regeneration before her black 
 ened bricks were fairly cold. The calamity, neverthe 
 less, was of a nature to make prudent investors pause 
 and reflect. So far as Nokomis went the great North 
 western boom had slackened its rate of speed. 
 
 Meanwhile, old Anthony Stanwood, never halting, 
 never flinching for an instant, obstinately held his 
 course with grim determination. He had transformed 
 the open suburbs of Nokomis into close lines of city 
 streets, encircled and united by his network of electric 
 railways. The expansion proceeded from an enormous 
 outlay for which, at present, there could be no adequate 
 return. The buildings were leased at a nominal rent, 
 or stood darkly vacant, while the railway system, to 
 maintain its privileges, ran at a loss. But the result, 
 thus rendered for the moment almost intangible, had 
 all the semblance of solidity. The Winnipeg tyrant s 
 resources were so vast that he could afford to give scope 
 to his will, which must in the end work out its own sal- 
 
 136 
 
Cloud-Capp d Towers 
 
 vation. The wheel would come full circle, and he would 
 reap what he had sown. It was only a question of time, 
 which of all men he could bide most comfortably. This 
 was the prevalent opinion of " the street," when the 
 situation was discussed there ; an opinion shared by 
 Gordon Wise, whose full possession of the facts and 
 figures might have led to grave misgivings had he stood 
 a little farther from the throne. But he was blinded by 
 its light, in a position further complicated by the sub 
 ordinate nature of his office in these high emprises. 
 Through them all he remained the mere factotum of 
 an absolute dictator, bound to obey orders unhesitat 
 ingly, without the smallest consideration of their wis 
 dom. Upon these terms only was a quiet life possible 
 to him. He had discovered that long ago, and had 
 submitted to the yoke, once for all ; the more readily 
 that his faith in the great schemer s star was bound 
 less. 
 
 All time that Gordon could call his own was given 
 now to the new house, which would be ready for oc 
 cupancy in the autumn. The details of its completion 
 were to him of absorbing interest, and his ideas on all 
 points defined themselves so clearly that his wife s tacit 
 agreement in them seemed but a natural deference to 
 his superior knowledge. If, at first, he would have pre 
 ferred a fuller note of sympathy in the decided expres 
 sion of her views for argument or acquiescence, as the 
 case might be, he soon learned to do without it. After 
 
 137 
 
The Courage of Conviction 
 
 her mother s death, given over for a long time to brood 
 ing grief, she withdrew into herself, and could not be 
 induced to consider the plans at all. And when, with 
 the advance of summer, the work approached its final 
 stages, Nina was out of town, so that reference to her of 
 the minor considerations which arose daily and hourly 
 became impossible. Many of these might easily have 
 been left for her approval upon Gordon s weekly visit ; 
 but, acquiring the dictatorial habit, he settled them in 
 his own way as a matter of course, and in general terms, 
 at the week s end, reported satisfactory progress, which 
 always seemed a sufficient answer to her spiritless in 
 quiries. 
 
 In consequence of Mrs. Stanwood s death the great 
 house at Tarrytown remained closed this year. Nina 
 was only too thankful to escape the care of it, as well 
 as its painful associations ; and her father, himself, had 
 suggested an arrangement which left him for once an 
 independent wanderer, with headquarters in a corner 
 of his town establishment, free to come and go as he 
 pleased. Gordon and Nina had hired at Newport a 
 small cottage standing well apart from the fashionable 
 current, and thus exactly suited to their needs. There 
 could be no doubt, as Gordon sometimes reflected, when 
 he returned to it from week to week, that the quiet open- 
 air life was doing his wife a world of good. She had 
 regained color, and looked more like her old self than 
 for many a day. If only she would take active interest 
 
 138 
 
Cloud- Capp d Towers 
 
 in things ! Meaning thereby the things he cared about, 
 which engrossed him more and more. 
 
 One afternoon, when he had left his office at an early 
 hour, and was whirling up-town in the train for a look 
 at the new walls which ere long would be golden, a 
 sudden thought impelled him to change his course and 
 to descend at the next station, into a side street which 
 led directly to Paul Hemming s studio. The two friends 
 had not met for some time; they were drifting apart 
 perceptibly ; but Gordon had decided that this state of 
 things must not continue, and that a word from him 
 should change it for the better. Full of this resolve, 
 he knocked at the painter s door. Paul was within, 
 disengaged as it happened, and welcomed him cor 
 dially. 
 
 " What good luck to find you alone ! " said Gordon. 
 " You have no model coming, I hope ? " 
 
 " No. My work for the day is done. I was just 
 thinking of a walk." 
 
 " All the better ! Then walk with me. I am off for 
 a look at my new home. Will you come ? " 
 
 " With pleasure ; but let me put up my brushes first, 
 it won t take long. Sit down and wait. There s a pros 
 pect for you ! " 
 
 As he spoke, Hemming drew aside the curtain from 
 a lower window, and motioned his visitor to an easy- 
 chair that stood near. Gordon perched upon the arm of 
 it, and smiled. 
 
 139 
 
The Courage of Conviction 
 
 " The roofs of all New York ! " said he. " And mine 
 among them ! " 
 
 " Ah ! which is yours ? I had not recognized it." 
 
 " Up there to the right, in line with the tall chim 
 ney, under the cloud of white smoke. A gable of gray 
 slate, do you see ? " 
 
 " Yes, I see," said the painter, following the indica 
 tions and pausing to look a moment longer with his 
 brushes in his hand; " what a strange jumble of good, 
 bad, and indifferent it all is ! A fermenting-vat, sim 
 mering under a smoke-counterpane, as old Carlyle said 
 of London. No trace of composition anywhere, with 
 a sky surpassing Italy s ! " 
 
 Gordon, slightly bored, turned from the window to 
 the studio-walls. " You re well off for room here," he 
 commented. " Much better than your old place, isn t 
 it?" 
 
 " Yes, and I must leave it all, worse luck ! " replied 
 Hemming, from an inner room, where he splashed over 
 his brush-cleaning. " They are to pull this building 
 down for one of their infernal sky-scrapers, leaving me 
 roofless. No other place that I can find suits me in the 
 least. So I store everything next week. Better luck, I 
 hope, in the autumn." 
 
 " That s a good thing ! " cried Gordon, stopping in 
 his tour of inspection before a small pencil drawing; 
 " a capital likeness, too ! I don t remember seeing it 
 before." 
 
 140 
 
Cloud- Capp d Towers 
 
 " What s that? " inquired Paul, returning for a mo 
 ment to the light. " Oh ! the sketch of Miss Brinkley ; 
 it was done from memory. I am very glad you like it. 
 And thereby hangs a tale," he continued, laughing. 
 " For, by chance, her father stumbled upon it here, the 
 other day, and commissioned me on the spot to make 
 a portrait of her. I go to Newport next week for that 
 purpose." 
 
 " Newport ? Oh, yes ! The Brinkleys have the Mur 
 ray house over on the ocean drive, miles away from 
 us, though my wife sees them sometimes, I believe." 
 
 " Your wife is there, too? Of course, I had almost 
 forgotten. She is well, I hope? " 
 
 " Perfectly well. You are ready? Shall we go?" 
 
 They went accordingly, and in another quarter of an 
 hour stood before the huge pile of brick and stone which 
 would make Gordon Wise, as he had once declared, a 
 comfortable man. 
 
 " Stupendous ! " Hemming exclaimed. " It is like 
 the corner of a Chateau en Espagne Touraine, I 
 mean." 
 
 " Oh, the outside is well enough," Wise admitted, 
 modestly ; " yet it disappoints me a little ; somehow, it 
 promised more on paper. The inside scheme holds its 
 own better, you will see." 
 
 In truth, Hemming found all within of amazing 
 completeness. The luxurious note struck at the very 
 portal was somewhat too high, perhaps, for perfect 
 
 141 
 
The Courage of Conviction 
 
 taste, with the Latin poet s famous recommendation of 
 simple adornment in one s mind; but, this conceded, 
 there could be no doubt that the desired effect was 
 reached and well sustained throughout. The splendor 
 had been so carefully considered that the house, bare, 
 unfurnished, as it stood, already seemed like some gem 
 of a palace in the old world. So even the fastidious 
 painter thought and said when, after making their 
 round, they returned to the main floor, where two fine 
 drawing-rooms opened into a hall beyond, destined for 
 music. 
 
 "It is a real piano nobile!" Hemming continued. 
 " My dear fellow, you have outdone the Barringtons. 
 This is more than comfort. You will live lapped in lux 
 ury in your Aladdin s palace." 
 
 " Even without the roc s egg which Aladdin so care 
 lessly omitted ? " asked Wise, laughing. 
 
 " Better without it, if I remember rightly." 
 
 " On the contrary, I want an entire and perfect 
 chrysolite. I have my roc s egg, too, you see ; and mine 
 is nothing less than a decoration for this music-room 
 from a master-hand. I need a frieze here by Paul Hem 
 ming. Voilatout! Will you undertake it ?" 
 
 "I? Are you joking? " 
 
 "Joking? I was never more in earnest. I brought 
 you here for nothing else." 
 
 Hemming, striding out into the middle of the room, 
 glanced up at its four walls, and smiled. " It would be 
 
 142 
 
Cloud-Capp d Towers 
 
 a fine opportunity, certainly, to spoil a good thing," 
 said he. 
 
 " Oh, I ll be answerable for that," retorted Wise, fol 
 lowing him. " And there is no hurry. You need not 
 make a single stroke until you have satisfied yourself. 
 Take your own time, and submit the design when you 
 please." 
 
 " Ah, well, on those conditions " 
 
 " Good ; it s a bargain ! " said Wise, decisively ; add 
 ing, as they turned down the stairs together, " So there s 
 my roc s egg, new-laid ! " 
 
 " No, unlaid, still in the womb of time, so to 
 speak ! " laughed his friend, at parting. But the 
 painter s mind was already busy with the new problem, 
 which presented a host of stimulating difficulties. Why, 
 after all, should he shrink from the attempt to conquer 
 them? 
 
 He had Miss Brinkley s portrait to consider first, 
 however; and at the appointed time in Newport that 
 work began. The doctor and his wife, with character 
 istic friendliness, had stipulated that the task they im 
 posed must include a visit also. He became thus for 
 ten days a member of their household, finding in his 
 host and hostess the rare gift of unceremonious enter 
 tainment that keeps the guest tactfully in mind, yet 
 annuls all sense of obligation. The early hours of the 
 day were devoted to the sittings ; afterward, came walks 
 and drives or social complications, which he might 
 
 143 
 
The Courage of Conviction 
 
 share, or not, at his own pleasure. Su zette s mobile face, 
 he had imagined, would be by no means an easy subject. 
 But one hour s experience reversed this hasty judgment. 
 Without a trace of affectation or awkward self-con 
 sciousness she really posed extremely well; somewhat 
 too silently, at first, as if fearing that conversation 
 would distract and hinder him; but upon his reassur 
 ing word this diffidence soon wore away. She had in 
 herited her father s taste for pictures, and her knowl 
 edge of them surprised him more and more. On other 
 matters, too, her mental attitude impressed him as 
 keen, clear, and sound. He had quite forgotten how 
 agreeable a companion she could be. This community 
 of spirit lightened his laborious hours and made them, 
 for the most part, fly like minutes. Only once, indeed, 
 did time call a halt to lag persistently. They were 
 speaking of decorative work in art, ancient and mod 
 ern, and Miss Brinkley asked if he had ever been 
 tempted to try his hand at it. Thereupon, impulsively 
 revealing the circumstances of the present temptation 
 under which he labored, he passed from Gordon Wise s 
 new house to Gordon himself and his new burden of 
 responsibilities. Thence, by a natural suggestion, he 
 was led to inquire for Gordon s wife, who still lived in 
 retirement, it appeared, never making visits, showing a 
 morbid tendency to shrink even from her nearest 
 friends. Miss Brinkley had not seen her for many 
 days, and, after deploring the fact, became subdued 
 
 144 
 
Cloud-Capp d Towers 
 
 and thoughtful. Hemming, oppressed by this unwonted 
 solemnity, veered from one subject to another, striv 
 ing to counteract it ; but in vain. The sitter s mind was 
 clouded by this disturbing thought, whatever it was, 
 and he could not overcome the strange little shade of 
 preoccupation. His last half-hour was wasted that 
 morning ; the sitting came to an end almost in silence. 
 Left to himself, he puzzled over the cause, wondering if 
 the fault were his. Probably not, as he concluded after 
 ward at luncheon, where Suzette seemed quite herself 
 again. So, considering that the mysterious cloud no 
 longer vexed her mind, he dismissed it from his own. 
 
 Late that afternoon, returning from an errand in the 
 town, Hemming had the cliff-walk almost to himself. 
 It was the hour of important social functions, and he 
 blessed them one and all for drawing away the world, 
 while he took peaceful enjoyment in the unfashionable 
 prospect of the shore and sea. He walked a mile and 
 more, slowly, in a contemplative mood, under the villa 
 walls and gardens, rounding one rocky point after an 
 other, loitering as the fancy pleased him. One or two 
 strangers passed, similarly engaged in the pursuit of 
 solitude. Then, suddenly, at a turn of the path, he en 
 countered a face by no means strange, that of Mrs. 
 Gordon Wise. Its color deepened with a flush of rec 
 ognition, as he mentally noted that the black she wore 
 was most becoming and that she had never looked 
 better. 
 
 145 
 
The Courage of Conviction 
 
 " You are walking the other way," he said, after they 
 had shaken hands ; " let me turn back with you." 
 
 " If you will be so kind," she replied ; " at least long 
 enough to explain how you happen to be in Newport." 
 
 " Ah, I ought to have explained that sooner, should 
 have done so, you may be sure, before leaving. I am 
 here for a few days only, and not altogether my own 
 master, as the painter of Miss Brinkley s portrait, 
 that s all." 
 
 " Indeed ? It is a fault in me not to know, for I owe 
 Suzette a visit. Even of her I have been negligent, be 
 cause 
 
 " I understand," Paul said, gently. 
 
 " And of you, too ! I meant before this to thank you 
 for a very kind letter. I have thought of it so often, 
 and you, perhaps, have thought me most ungrate 
 ful." 
 
 " Never ! My letter required no answer. I expected 
 none. I have felt for you the deepest sympathy not 
 to be expressed in words." 
 
 Awaiting her reply, he turned toward her involun 
 tarily. She did not speak; but her eyes, meeting his 
 with a responsive look, slowly rilled with tears. There 
 was an awkward silence, into which he broke with 
 a commonplace remark about the view. So the moment 
 of constraint passed, while they walked on, talking 
 easily and cheerfully of the slighter things that cast no 
 shadow. 
 
 146 
 
Cloud-Capp d Towers 
 
 " And the portrait," she said, at last ; " tell me more 
 about that. Is it nearly finished ? " 
 
 " Yes. A few days more and it is done. Then I go 
 back to town." 
 
 "And then?" 
 
 " Then ? Who knows ? There is my great problem 
 waiting for me. I may be inspired to solve it." 
 
 " Your great problem ! What is that, pray? " 
 
 " My title to immortality, I mean, the proposed 
 decoration of which Gordon has told you." 
 
 " No. He has left me in the dark." 
 
 " Then that is my fault, not his," he said, with a 
 smile. " I hesitated, you see, still hesitate 
 
 " Please go on ! " she urged. " I am still in the dark, 
 and the most curious creature in the world." 
 
 " Let me enlighten you at once. The proposed im 
 mortal work is a frieze for your new music-room, into 
 which I went for the first time the other day." 
 
 " Ah, indeed? " 
 
 " The room is really splendid. Not to do precisely 
 the right thing would be to ruin it. I could not see my 
 way, at first ; even now I am not entirely sure. But I 
 have thought of a triumphal procession on classic 
 lines, very delicately done it should be, the figures 
 in low relief, perhaps, like Giulio Romano s, at Man 
 tua. Does that seem possible? " 
 
 " It would be beautiful, very beautiful." 
 
 " If I could carry it through ! " continued the painter, 
 147 
 
The Courage of Conviction 
 
 now thoroughly absorbed in his scheme. " I used to 
 dream of those ideal possibilities ; but, long ago, in my 
 Tithonus days. Do you remember that early master 
 piece ? No ! How should you ? It was done in the dark 
 ages, before I went to France." 
 
 " Yes, yes, I know. I have not forgotten, I remem 
 ber it perfectly." 
 
 "What a memory!" he rejoined, laughing lightly. 
 Then he glanced at her, and his manner changed. " I 
 beg your pardon. What is it? What have I said that 
 troubles you ? " 
 
 " Nothing," she answered ; " it is nothing." But 
 moving hastily forward to a wooden bench that stood 
 beside the path she sank down there, speechless, white 
 and still. Following in alarm, he inquired anxiously 
 if she were ill. At the suggestion she shook her head, 
 motioned him away with an impatient gesture ; and as 
 he turned aside she burst into tears. He stared at her 
 helplessly in strange perplexity. The storm passed, 
 however, as quickly as it came ; after a moment or two 
 she recovered self-control, and begged him to disre 
 gard it. 
 
 " Please forgive me," she continued, quietly. " Let 
 us go on ; it was nervousness, no more. I am heartily 
 ashamed of myself." 
 
 "Why not trust me?" he urged. "You are un 
 happy, most unhappy. Is there no way to help you ? " 
 
 " Do not imagine things that are not," she protested, 
 148 
 
Cloud-Capp d Towers 
 
 in the same quiet voice. " I am unreasonable, that is 
 all ; if you would help me, teach me to be otherwise. I 
 have found it difficult to see things as Gordon sees 
 them ; I still find it so, and am the more to blame." 
 
 " You never spoke your word, then ? " 
 
 " My word ? To him, you mean, I remember. No ; 
 it would have come too late. His tastes are formed, and 
 I must conform to them, sympathize with his schemes 
 of magnificence his houses 
 
 " And his decorative flights ! It is I who make it 
 harder for you." 
 
 " Don t think that my folly is monumental," she said, 
 smiling. " I approve that scheme, and beg you to go on 
 with it. Here begins my expiation." 
 
 " Yours to command ! " he rejoined. " It shall be as 
 you direct ; yet I wish 
 
 " Wish for me less sensibility, and more sense. Com 
 mon sense is what I need, and the power of adjustment. 
 States have been wrecked without it ! Think of that 
 when you remember me in your prayers, and think also 
 that I have learned the error of my ways, at least. 
 Yours, by the by, is there. You must not turn aside 
 with me, you will be late to dinner. But you will come 
 to see me, won t you ? " 
 
 Upon his assurance to do this, they parted ; she went 
 her way into the town, while he followed the shore line 
 again, but with changed, unperceptive eyes that caught 
 only a vague impression of the landscape. He was out 
 
 149 
 
The Courage of Conviction 
 
 of it all now, moving onward in the flesh, yet in the 
 spirit wandering back with her and the words which 
 she had spoken. That these could not be trusted, he 
 felt convinced. She was playing a part for his benefit, 
 putting herself unduly in the wrong, guarding by a 
 general denial some source of sorrow mysterious in its 
 profundity, not to be fathomed, unless unless? 
 
 That night, after dinner, as he smoked alone with 
 Dr. Brinkley on the terrace, between the stars and the 
 sea, his besetting thought came uppermost again and 
 moved him to mention his chance companionship of 
 the afternoon. He was desirous to know if an observer 
 so shrewd and dispassionate as his host had received 
 any impression of Mrs. Gordon Wise which might be 
 formulated. With this object, carefully avoiding the 
 details of their interview, he simply stated its occur 
 rence, and then, cautiously feeling his way, made a few 
 general reflections upon her prevailing sadness as a 
 state to be deplored. At Hemming s introduction of 
 her name, the tip of the doctor s cigar took on a brighter 
 glow, and he stirred in his chair, as if aroused to fresh 
 interest by the change of subject. But it was too dark 
 to see his face, and he gave no further sign, until Hem 
 ming, passing from effect to cause, ended by wonder 
 ing what that could be. 
 
 Then the doctor stirred again. 
 
 " Don t waste time over that ! " said he ; " there may 
 be a definite cause, or there may not. In all probability 
 
 150 
 
Cloud-Capp d Towers 
 
 the trouble is complex. Running it to earth would per 
 haps do more harm than good to her and to ourselves." 
 
 " But if, knowing, one could help her 
 
 " We help the weak and the faint-hearted," continued 
 Dr. Brinkley. " Nina s character is essentially a strong 
 one. She is true, high-minded, fine absolutely. 
 There is no woman of her age whom I respect so much. 
 If she has ills other than those that flesh is heir to, she 
 will conquer them herself, live them down, you may 
 be sure. Let her alone ! You can t help her." 
 
 " That is true, I suppose," Hemming half agreed. 
 " Yet to wish it were not so is only the part of friend 
 ship." 
 
 " But not the part of wisdom," urged the doctor. 
 " The remedies of friendship are often more dangerous 
 than disease. If I understand the case, the patient has 
 not complained of unhappiness. She has not confided 
 in you ? " 
 
 " No ; certainly not." 
 
 " Then take an old man s advice, and if she does con 
 fide, don t listen. Turn your back ; get out ; jump over 
 board ! Laugh, if you like ; I am quite in earnest. A 
 woman with confidences is the devil incarnate. Shall 
 we go in ? " 
 
XII 
 
 THE SHELTERED SIDE OF CARE 
 
 A DAY or two after his talk in the dusk with 
 -^** Dr. Brinkley, Hemming returned to town, as 
 it happened, without seeing Mrs. Wise again. When, 
 according to promise, he paid her his visit, she was not 
 at home. The small circumstance brought him mingled 
 relief and regret; relief, because, for the moment, it 
 left in abeyance the disquieting problem of Nina s un- 
 happiness; regret, because, despite Dr. Brink-ley s ad 
 vice, Hemming s interest in that problem increased 
 rather than diminished. Tormenting surmises, not to 
 be set aside, made it his own problem as well as hers, 
 and led him to long irresistibly for its solution. But of 
 this longing he did his best to give no sign. The doc 
 tor was summoned to New York on the very day of 
 Hemming s departure, and the two travelled cityward 
 together by the night boat ; yet even the doctor, with 
 all his discernment, could have had no notion of the 
 growing conflict in his companion s mind. Their talk 
 in the evening did not incline to confidences ; they 
 turned in early, and in the morning met only for a hur 
 ried parting. Hemming had previously spoken of his 
 intent to bury himself in the country, far from social 
 
 152 
 
The Sheltered Side of Care 
 
 exactions, for study, combined with rest. The doctor, 
 recalling the fact, wished him joy of this happy com 
 bination. And so, with a smile, each went his way, put 
 ting out of sight his own little burden of cares, whether 
 private or professional, and stepping lightly, as one 
 must who would get on in the world. 
 
 The doctor s cares were of both kinds that day, 
 which was intensely hot. But he kept his appointments, 
 one and all, with such equanimity, that upon lunching 
 late in a shaded club-window with his cousin, Brinkley 
 Harrington, he was called to account for unreasonably 
 high spirits. Whereat he protested, with mock con 
 trition, that a man s temperament could no more be 
 changed at will than those proverbial spots of the 
 leopard ; that he was born cheerful, and could not help 
 himself. After luncheon the two held a long confer 
 ence upon some business matters of grave import, 
 which, more than all the rest, had called the doctor to 
 town. But even this failed to discourage him ; where 
 Barrington found cause for depression, he would none 
 of it ; that night he went back to Newport, light-hearted 
 as he came ; and at dinner on the following evening he 
 assured his wife that the tiresome little journey, for 
 which she pitied him, had done him only good. 
 
 This was almost their first moment to themselves 
 since his return. Suzette happened to be dining out, so 
 that they were now quite alone, secure from interrup 
 tion; and when coffee came, following them out-of- 
 
 153 
 
The Courage of Conviction 
 
 doors upon the terrace, Mrs. Brinkley, eager for con 
 fidential details, as good wives always are, thought the 
 time too favorable to be lost. She had cleared the decks 
 for action, and while the first puff from the doctor s 
 cigar rose in the twilight she opened fire. Her own ex 
 perience seemed to have been but a battle with the heat, 
 out of the world s range, and she longed for stirring 
 news from the front. 
 
 " You lunched at the club, George, didn t you? " so 
 she began, " with Cousin Brinkley Barrington ? " 
 
 " Yes. I went directly there after the hospital-meet 
 ing. But the meeting was a very long one, you see, 
 and " 
 
 " And what was it that made Brinkley so very anx 
 ious to see you ? " 
 
 " An access of pessimism, my dear. He has discerned 
 an evil tendency in all mundane things, particularly, 
 certain of our investments ; and he hopes to counteract 
 a portion of the evil by a change in them." 
 
 " I understand ; in the trusts which you and he hold 
 jointly." 
 
 " By no means. The trust-funds are held upon a 
 widow-and-orphan basis of security, as Brinkley would 
 say, that only the dissolution of the great globe itself, 
 and all which it inherits, could possibly destroy. They 
 are immutable. The desired change is in some of the 
 private, speculative pools into which I plunged by his 
 advice, mirages, I call them." 
 
 154 
 
The Sheltered Side of Care 
 
 " Oh, some of those Western things ! " 
 
 " Precisely. The West-Northwest seems to be the 
 perilous compass-point of the moment. Brinkley has 
 been out there for exploring purposes, and has come 
 back steeped in a gloom that affects his outlook, not only 
 in that direction, but in all others. He predicts a gen 
 eral financial panic in the near future, leading to rack 
 and ruin and the Lord knows what afterward." 
 
 " Why, George dear, what nonsense ! " 
 
 " Just what I told him, but without effect. When I 
 laughed, he shrugged his shoulders ; and informed me 
 that his was a keen, financial mind, gifted with second 
 sight, or, rather, second knowledge, while mine, 
 well, no matter. The long and short of it is that he 
 smells sulphur, and that I begin to smell it, too." 
 
 " He convinced you, then ? " 
 
 " No ; my scent is only sympathetic. Why should I 
 have convictions upon a matter of which I know noth 
 ing? But I made life possible by giving him carte 
 blanche to act for me, to sell out or buy in, as he 
 pleases ; then, having conceded so much, I took a dic 
 tatorial tone, and prescribed calomel for his low spirits." 
 
 " And did that cheer him up? " 
 
 " Well, in a measure. He disapproved of what he 
 called my levity, but consented to talk, for a moment, 
 of other things. They expect Suzette at Brinkwood a 
 little earlier, it seems, on the nineteenth, I think he 
 said." 
 
 155 
 
The Courage of Conviction 
 
 " Yes, yes, I know," said Mrs. Brinkley, stirring un 
 easily ; " a letter came to her this morning. And this 
 reminds me, George ! " 
 
 "My dear?" 
 
 " I can t help growing more and more disturbed 
 about Suzette. The fact is, that I have thought of noth 
 ing else all day." 
 
 " Still brooding over your one chicken ! That comes 
 of being too much alone. Suzette is well and happy. 
 Why distress yourself about her? Health and happi 
 ness are not to be despised. She demands no more. 
 Why, then, should you ? " 
 
 " Because I am older and wiser. Happiness ? She 
 does not understand the word. No single woman can." 
 
 " Very flattering to us, I am sure, but " 
 
 " Now, George, don t talk to me in that way." 
 
 " I haven t talked, my dear." 
 
 " But I know what you want to say, as well as if you 
 had said it. You want to tell me that marriage is al 
 ways a risk and sometimes a failure ; to quote Lord 
 Bacon s stupid essay and shocking masculine point of 
 view ; and, finally, to silence me altogether with the 
 statement that single blessedness is far more desirable 
 than an unhappy married life. Let me say at once, 
 then, that I can t agree in it. The single state is a state 
 of resignation, of making the best of a bad business. 
 For my part, I would rather see my child unhappily 
 married than not married at all, yes, much rather. 
 
 156 
 
The Sheltered Side of Care 
 
 Single blessedness ! Single cursedness, George ! Now, 
 what are you laughing at ? " 
 
 " I was only thinking," said the doctor, with sudden 
 solemnity, " how much time, which might have been 
 lost in argument, you have saved me." 
 
 " Ah ! To argue on this point with me would be 
 worse than useless." 
 
 " Heaven forbid, then, that we should attempt it ! 
 Marriage, happy or unhappy, is the only state, that s 
 granted. All I want to ask is what makes Suzette s case 
 so desperate? She hasn t forsworn the world of men 
 that I know of, and she is neither old nor ugly." 
 
 " Old, George ? She is twenty-seven, nearly 
 twenty-eight 
 
 " I am corrected. Still, women have married at 
 thirty, unhappily, too." 
 
 " Now, George, be serious, if you can. For the world 
 of men, as you call it, Suzette cares less than nothing. 
 Since she refused poor Hammond Long, she seems re 
 solved to give no one else room for opportunity. She 
 surveys all men from a height, with supreme indiffer 
 ence. They don t like it, of course. How should they ? 
 That is not the way to encourage a man, and that is 
 why I am discouraged." 
 
 " I suppose that she wishes to avoid scenes, based 
 upon mistaken notions of encouragement. Having 
 gained her experience, she is trying her hand at dis 
 cretion. Isn t this all ? " 
 
 157 
 
The Courage of Conviction 
 
 " No, George. It is not all, I am convinced. If you 
 could hear her talk to me ! She is all worldliness and 
 heartlessness. I can t think how or where she came by 
 such dreadful qualities. Certainly, from no ancestor of 
 mine. She simply does not care." 
 
 " Ah ! You feel sure of this, absolutely sure ? " 
 
 " Why, yes, to be sure I do. Why shouldn t I ? " 
 
 " Because," returned the doctor, after a moment of 
 silence, " it occurs to me that there may be an error in 
 your diagnosis. The symptoms are probably morbid, 
 yet to my mind they indicate excess of care rather than 
 its deficiency." 
 
 " George, dear, aren t you well ? " 
 
 " Quite so." 
 
 " Then what are you driving at ? " 
 
 " Only at the possibility that Suzette may care 
 very much for somebody who gives no sign, and 
 that her heartlessness may be hopelessness in another 
 form." 
 
 "Why, George, what an extraordinary idea! Who 
 is it?" 
 
 " Who is who, my dear? " 
 
 " The man she cares for, I mean." 
 
 Dr. Brinkley laughed. " How the moth flies at the 
 flame!" said he. "I had no man in mind. It was 
 pure conjecture, merely my inference from your state 
 ment of the facts." 
 
 " Oh, if that s all 
 
 158 
 
The Sheltered Side ot Care 
 
 " Then it seems to you an impossible conclusion." 
 
 " Quite ! " Mrs. Brinkley asserted and reasserted 
 with a meditative sigh; "quite impossible!" 
 
 " And the impossibility disappoints you. If I could 
 prove to you on the spot that Suzette is pining away 
 in desperation for some monster of indifference, I 
 believe you would be better pleased." 
 
 " Well, why not? To tell the truth, George, I have 
 longed more than once for just this very thing. I 
 want her to care, to care at any cost, yes, even if 
 she cries her eyes out. I declare there would be some 
 hope in that ! " 
 
 " I see. A romance with a sad ending is preferable 
 to no romance at all." 
 
 " Now, George, it s not a question of romance, 
 but of human life; and a woman with no tender 
 ness in her is unfit to live. What can you say to 
 that?" 
 
 " I can say, my dear, that I thoroughly admire your 
 ingenuity in joining the issues of an argument. Your 
 generalizations are most happy, as well as incontest 
 able. But in your particular application of them to 
 Suzette I find you outrageously pessimistic. You are 
 worse than Brinkley Barrington." 
 
 " Why, George, dear, I 
 
 " Really, Susan, I think I ought to prescribe calomel. 
 Care overcomes us all soon enough ; why rush to meet 
 it? Take your doctor s advice, sit under the lee of it, 
 
 159 
 
The Courage of Conviction 
 
 and don t brood! Watch Suzette, if you will, and 
 who knows? You may find, after all, that I am right 
 in my attempt to account for her behavior. She may 
 be distractedly in love with any one of a dozen stony 
 hearted young men. But so long as she does not 
 shun their society, and chooses to play her part cheer 
 fully, I must be cheerful, too. I refuse to eat my heart 
 out over a vague uncertainty. Happy spinsters may 
 be few and far between, but surely there have been 
 many such since Minerva s time. Hark ! Is not that 
 the carriage? Yes, there she comes! Look in, out 
 of the dark, and tell me, if you can, that her case has 
 reached the point of desperation." 
 
 In truth, of despair there was not the remotest hint 
 to be obtained from the girl s lithe figure, unguarded 
 in its aspect, serenely unaffected by the grace which 
 was its vital charm. She moved swiftly toward them 
 through the soft light of the drawing-room ; stopped 
 for a moment to fling down her wrap, and to assure 
 herself by a glance that they were not indoors; then, 
 coming on to the open window, stepped out upon the 
 terrace, and there, meeting the darkness, stood still 
 a moment more. Her dress was of pale green, which 
 suited her exactly. There were moonstones about her 
 neck, and their faint, pearl-like gleam was repeated 
 in the slighter ornament that glistened in her hair, 
 contrasting with the lamplight, as if she had caught 
 a phosphorescent glow from the great wave which 
 
 1 60 
 
The Sheltered Side of Care 
 
 flashed and fell among the rocks beyond the terrace 
 and the pathway. Before its foam swept out her eyes 
 cleared, and she saw them watching her. 
 
 "Oh, there you are!" she cried. "So quiet and 
 still, out here in the dark. How very mousy of 
 you!" 
 
 The heads of the family, recovering speech upon the 
 instant, made room for her beside them, and asked 
 for an account of the evening s adventures, which was 
 given, accordingly, in detail, with great vivacity. Su- 
 zette had a talent for distinguishing the comic side of 
 things, and she made good use of it now for more 
 than half an hour, after which, breaking off abruptly 
 to inquire the time of night, with bed-time excuses 
 and embraces she went as lightly as she came, still, 
 apparently, in high spirits. To this fact the doctor 
 directed his wife s notice a few moments later, when 
 they likewise had come in-doors, and he had begun 
 his nightly round of inspection. His remarks were 
 punctuated by the closing and locking of the drawing- 
 room windows; and he listened to himself with so 
 much satisfaction that he had passed on into the 
 library before he perceived that the talk was all one 
 sided, without a responsive echo. Looking back he 
 saw his wife standing silent and preoccupied, gravely 
 employed in the study of her fan, which seemed to 
 open and shut by its own devices in her unconscious 
 hands. 
 
 161 
 
The Courage of Conviction 
 
 "A penny for your thoughts!" he called. "You 
 are not hearing one word of all I say." 
 
 Mrs. Brinkley started, laughed vacantly, and, coming 
 to herself, bore down upon him in the glow of re 
 covery. 
 
 "Oh, yes indeed!" she protested. "I quite agree 
 with you. I wonder who he is." 
 
 "Wake up, my dear!" said the doctor, plucking 
 her by the sleeve. " It is of Suzette that I am speak- 
 ing." 
 
 " Suzette, of course," she retorted, indignantly. " I 
 have been watching her, as you suggested. There is 
 somebody for whom she cares. I am positively cer 
 tain of it." 
 
 " What, already? An hour ago you thought it quite 
 impossible." 
 
 " Well, now I am an hour older. Pray how 
 much time need a woman waste in changing her 
 mind? Who can he be? It s not George Har 
 vey." 
 
 The doctor shrugged his shoulders helplessly. 
 " How you dash at things! " said he. " As if it were 
 a riddle to be solved by guess-work! I give you my 
 guess for what it is worth. Hammond Long is the 
 man. She is more than an hour older since he asked 
 her, and - 
 
 "Nonsense, George; it is not Hammond Long. I 
 know that by the way she speaks of him." 
 
 162 
 
The Sheltered Side of Care 
 
 " Well, that s a comfort," said the doctor, with 
 the gleam of mischief in his eye. " Throw Long 
 out. We might proceed to the survival of the fittest 
 by a process of elimination. It would be a pretty 
 game. Let us begin with What is it, dear? 
 Fits?" 
 
 This deflection of thought was caused by a sharp 
 cry from his wife, breaking in upon his speech as if 
 something had attacked her. Incapable of utterance, 
 she answered his question at first by pointing with her 
 fan to the corner of the library directly behind him, 
 where, on a small table against the wall, had been tem 
 porarily placed the portrait of Suzette, in which the 
 color was scarcely dry. 
 
 The doctor turned, and, like Whittington, turned 
 again, mystified. 
 
 "Well?" he inquired. 
 
 "The painter, George!" replied Mrs. Brinkley, in 
 an uneasy whisper. " Where were our wits? I think 
 that Mr. Hemming is the man." 
 
 The doctor started, and changed color. " Why do 
 you think that?" he asked, gravely. "She never 
 mentioned his name." 
 
 "That s just it; she naturally wouldn t. His 
 name would be the one of all others to avoid. But 
 it isn t only that. I remember other things, 
 George." 
 
 "It can t be!" emphatically asserted the doctor, 
 163 
 
The Courage of Conviction 
 
 putting out the light. "It can t be!" he repeated, 
 bustling away into the hall. His tone implied that it 
 must not be, and Mrs. Brinkley so interpreted the 
 words. 
 
 "Why can t it?" she asked, following him up. 
 " Surely you know nothing to his discredit, do 
 you ? " 
 
 "Nothing, nothing whatsoever!" he answered, 
 quickly. " I referred only to the flaws in your evi 
 dence." 
 
 Thereupon, for some moments, she reproduced from 
 memory straw after straw to show the wind s quarter. 
 But he refused to consider such trifling indications. 
 To all proofs thus advanced he offered only the same 
 three words by way of refutation. " It can t be! " he 
 muttered, slowly stroking his mustache with un 
 wonted seriousness. And there was no further attempt 
 at banter; the mischievous light had faded from his 
 eyes. 
 
 That his argument was addressed quite as much to 
 himself as to her seemed plain from his pursuit of it 
 in the solitude of his dressing-room; but, for all his 
 assurance, it failed to bring conviction. " And if it 
 were? " he thought, at last admitting the unwelcome 
 possibility. "Why, then, the devil s in it! Hang 
 Hemming! What is there in the chap to make all 
 the women, one after another, go mad for love of 
 him?" 
 
 164 
 
The Sheltered Side of Care 
 
 With this preposterous and sphinx-like begging of 
 the momentous question Dr. Brinkley extinguished 
 his last light, leaving his household in darkness that 
 was Egyptian. 
 
 165 
 
XIII 
 
 WHERE LIGHT IN DARKNESS LIES 
 
 FT was not until October that Hemming began life 
 -*- in town again, unlike the snail, with no house 
 on his head. For, inclining to the doctrine that a 
 special fortune waits upon delay, he had huddled his 
 furniture and studio properties into a storage ware 
 house at the moment of his departure, with the pleasant 
 hope that the new quarters forced upon him by the 
 march of up-town improvement would stand vacant 
 somewhere at the moment of his return. And so, 
 perhaps, they did; but in several days of search he 
 failed to discover them. Then occurred the happy 
 accident, which seemed to uphold his superstition and 
 confirmed his credulous optimism. The nights of these 
 tiresome, homeless days were passed at his club; and 
 there, late in one of them, he encountered a brother- 
 painter who was, literally, on the eve of going abroad, 
 who, upon hearing his difficulties, promptly solved 
 them by offering the use of his own studio until Hem 
 ming could find another, or for the winter, at a fair 
 price, if he preferred. Upon this benefactor Hemming 
 bestowed the favor of his blessing; and together they 
 
 166 
 
Where Light in Darkness Lies 
 
 drank to procrastination, not as the thief of time, but 
 rather as the saviour of society. 
 
 The next morning Hemming took possession of 
 the premises, and, finding that certain of his own 
 household gods were indispensable, he repaired in the 
 early afternoon to their place of storage. It was a 
 perfect autumnal day, brilliant, crisp, refreshing, 
 one of the rare sort in which the pure atmosphere 
 seems to minimize exertion, and, influencing soul as 
 well as body, to make one s highest ideal a shining 
 probability. Hemming, as he walked, grew conscious 
 of the unwonted exhilaration. " It is a day to move 
 mountains!" he murmured. But so keen a joy is 
 said to be but one remove from pain, and in his case 
 the event proved it. Looking down a cross street he 
 saw the gabled roof of Gordon Wise s unfinished house, 
 like a gray wall of cloud athwart his clear horizon. 
 
 The current of his thought changed instantly; he 
 stopped, turned aside toward the house with slackened 
 pace, as if the cloud had overwhelmed him ; and, upon 
 reaching a favorable point, he stood still to inspect 
 the work in detail, gravely, with contracted brows. 
 The stagings were all down, and the monumental 
 fagade rose complete, even to the last carved rosette 
 of its cornice; but within could be seen mechanics of 
 various kinds engaged upon their finishing touches. 
 They reminded him of his own prospective share in 
 the splendid interior, and he walked on, sighing. 
 
 167 
 
The Courage of Conviction 
 
 During his absence he had struck out a first sketch 
 of the frieze, which was unsatisfactory. He found no 
 heart for the work, and he despaired of ever finding 
 it. The very suggestion of endeavor made him sigh 
 again. " Ah, well ! the thing can wait," he thought, 
 evasively; "there is no hurry." This brought him at 
 once to his talk with Nina on the cliff concerning 
 that same thing. " I approve the scheme, and beg 
 you to go on with it, " she had told him, as he now 
 repeated, word for word. But even while accepting 
 her statement he had doubted its sincerity, and he 
 doubted still. Really, her heart was no more in that 
 or in any other scheme of the great establishment than 
 his own was. Yet he admired her the more for her 
 noble effort to deceive. Her courage and her reso 
 lution were of the heroic sort; while strength lasted 
 they, too, would last. But how long would that be? 
 The thought of her daily life in the next few years 
 made him shudder. Continuous pretence, continuous 
 agony, too horrible for tragedy! How could it go 
 on? The imagined torment haunted him as though it 
 were his own. Why should she waste her days in such 
 endurance? Pshaw! His sympathy, perhaps, was not 
 merely futile, but misplaced. She had her trials, her 
 compensations, no doubt ; after all, she lived in the lap 
 of luxury, where rough angles were made smooth. 
 And all happiness in this world must be relative, of 
 course. Half the women whom he knew were like 
 
 168 
 
Where Light in Darkness Lies 
 
 that, as he dared swear. Only one thing seemed en 
 tirely clear. The conduct of her life, whether it led to 
 joy or sorrow, was no affair of his. 
 
 But thought of her would not be shaken off so 
 easily. At the very moment of this peremptory dis 
 missal a brougham passed in the crowded thorough 
 fare close to the curb, almost brushing him by. The 
 woman within stirred, and greeted him with a smile 
 of recognition, then was gone in a flash. She was 
 one whom he knew well and often met in his round 
 of worldly intercourse a woman of wealth and posi 
 tion, who chose to live apart from her husband with 
 out the formality of a legal separation. This adjust 
 ment of their differences, mutually agreed upon, had 
 become an old story; there being no undercurrent of 
 scandal connected with it, the circumstance was 
 tacitly accepted as an accomplished fact, and even the 
 accidental encounter of the two in some crowded 
 assemblage caused scarcely a remark. That matter 
 was settled, to the world s satisfaction, at all events. 
 
 In the waning beauty of this woman s face Hem 
 ming had always found a mute appeal for sympathy. 
 Its habitual restless gayety, its rare moments of wan 
 repose were alike profoundly touching. To-day, how 
 ever, it served only as a foil for the younger and fairer 
 face of Nina Wise. To a loneliness like that her 
 patience and fortitude in all likelihood were tending. 
 Where else could they tend, if her affections had al- 
 
 169 
 
The Courage of Conviction 
 
 ready drifted from her husband s course as far as he 
 believed? A relation so strained must unquestionably 
 give way, sooner or later, on one side or the other ; it 
 was a mistaken sense of duty that led her to prolong a 
 life of martyrdom for such an end. Why should she 
 prolong it by another hour? There were laws in the 
 land framed to give her freedom ; one step, and she 
 would gain it, and with it happiness ; it was not too 
 late for that. If she were free! If she were free! 
 
 The fateful powers seemed to be in league to fix 
 his thought and hold it; he resisted them no longer, 
 but walked encompassed by a day-dream of her future 
 in a new light, surrendering himself to its golden pos 
 sibilities. With this spell upon him, inadvertently he 
 passed the cross street leading to his destination, and 
 went a block out of his way before discovering the mis 
 take. Then, brought back to earth with a round turn, 
 he reproached himself for the imaginative flight, and, 
 retracing his steps, gave his attention for the next few 
 minutes to actual affairs. 
 
 The storage warehouse was a huge, airy building of 
 the most approved constructive pattern all brick, 
 steel, and tile, and every other known precaution 
 against fire. From its wide corridors opened to right 
 and left the rented rooms, large and small, some re 
 ceiving daylight from an inner court, others window- 
 less, but each provided with its own lock and key, an 
 independent domain to the renter for the time being. 
 
 170 
 
Where Light in Darkness Lies 
 
 Hemming s room was on the third floor, and, passing 
 through the office, he went up by the swift elevator 
 in a breathless moment to his proper landing. There, 
 upon identification, he was shown by the attendant in 
 charge to a vaulted cell half-way down the hall, on the 
 dark side. The man opened an outer door and, while 
 Hemming unlocked the inner one, turned on an elec 
 tric light, which flashed up within; then, finding that 
 no further service was required, he returned to his 
 post. 
 
 Hemming, left to himself, eyed for a moment the 
 dusty heap of his treasures, which, thus shorn of their 
 distinction, looked like the cast-off lumber of an 
 auction-room. Before proceeding to overhaul them 
 he turned to close the door, but stopped in blank 
 amazement, staring at the door of another room op 
 posite his own across the corridor. While he looked it 
 swung half-open in a sudden draught of air; clear day 
 light streamed into the space beyond it, and there, 
 confronting him like an embodiment of his lost 
 illusions, he saw upon an easel a piece of his own 
 handiwork, familiar in every line, yet long forgotten, 
 the painting of " Tithonus." 
 
 More than half doubting the evidence of his eye 
 sight, much too startled to consider consequences, 
 Hemming sprang to the opposite threshold. The door, 
 opening wider as if to admit him, was caught by a 
 countercurrent, and fell back heavily at his very heels. 
 
 171 
 
The Courage of Conviction 
 
 He was forced to take a forward step into the room, 
 which seemed to contain only the picture. He saw, 
 at first, nothing else. But at an open window in 
 the right-hand wall was a woman with her back 
 toward him. She turned quickly at the sound of 
 the jarring door. He stood face to face with Nina 
 Wise. 
 
 She drew back trembling, with flushed cheeks, and 
 in her eyes a look of terror, as though his presence 
 were unreal. " You ! " she faltered, and shrank still 
 farther from him. 
 
 "Forgive me!" he stammered, incoherently. "I 
 was there, by chance, a strange one. The door 
 opened; I saw this. I could not believe, I and here, 
 to find you 
 
 She was deadly pale now, but had recovered in some 
 degree her self-command. " Yes," she said, with a 
 faint smile; "it is mine. I bought it long ago." 
 
 " Through Dr. Brinkley ! " he continued, in the same 
 tremor of excitement. " Why, then, to you I owe 
 everything, all I have accomplished, my very exist 
 ence even. The means of life date from that poor 
 beginning. And I never guessed, you never told 
 me." 
 
 " No," she answered, like one who speaks in sleep, 
 " I never told you." 
 
 "And you have kept the secret hidden here, for 
 years." 
 
 172 
 
Where Light in Darkness Lies 
 
 " For years! " she repeated, in the same low voice, 
 as if unconsciously. 
 
 " If I had known! " he sighed. " That night, when 
 you came back to me for the last word, I had lost 
 my senses. My heart s desire was granted, and I could 
 not see the folly of it. I saw that afterward, too 
 late! I have been blind, sordid, brutal. I sold the 
 only life worth living for a mess of pottage. And all 
 your sorrow of these years is due to me." 
 
 The word aroused her from her strange remoteness. 
 Her eyes flashed upon him an appealing look, that 
 was at once withdrawn. " My sorrow ! " she said, help 
 lessly. "My sorrow?" 
 
 " You will not deny it now," he insisted, with head 
 long recklessness of speech hurrying desperately on. 
 " You cannot. Why disguise it longer? Let us speak 
 out, at last! Do you think me so dull as not to see 
 and understand the wretchedness of your life? You 
 are miserably unhappy, and you cannot hide it longer 
 from me, me, of all men alive. You could not hide 
 it, if you would ! For I love you, I love you ! " 
 
 " Stop! " she cried, sinking down and covering her 
 face with both hands. " You are mad. What right 
 have you to tell me this? " 
 
 "No right, none! Yet I must speak, and you 
 must hear me. A great wrong has been done, and it 
 is not too late to repair it. Nina, listen; nothing else 
 matters, nothing in all the world. To be honest with 
 
 173 
 
The Courage of Conviction 
 
 each other, that is the only way. Your own heart 
 justifies it. Your love for me gives me the right to 
 tell you so." 
 
 "No! no!" she moaned, drooping lower in the 
 deepest anguish. " It is cowardly to say such 
 things." 
 
 " I have the courage to face the truth," he said, 
 more gently, drawing nearer and bending over her. 
 " I have felt that this was inevitable. I have struggled 
 with it, fought against it, but such a force is not to 
 be controlled. My love for you went with me every 
 where. And you have seen, have known. There was 
 a meaning in your silence. But now the time has 
 come to break it fearlessly, to free ourselves from the 
 false position, to bring the trial to an end. Nina! 
 Look up! Be brave, be honest! You must deal fairly 
 with me." 
 
 He had laid his hand upon her arm, but, resisting 
 his touch, she sprang to her feet unaided. 
 
 " This is horrible," she said, striving to be calm. 
 " I have brought it upon myself, I have been much 
 to blame how much I hardly knew until you spoke 
 the accusing word. There was a meaning in my 
 silence, a fearful meaning which has forced me, in 
 self-reproach, to hear you out you, my husband s 
 friend." 
 
 Her voice had gained strength, and there came into 
 it a warning note of bitterness from which, instinct- 
 
 174 
 
Where Light in Darkness Lies 
 
 ively, he recoiled. He tried to speak, but only wavered, 
 confused and silent, fumbling for the right word. 
 
 " You see, it is not so easy to deal fairly," she 
 resumed, in the same tone. " Oh, I do not blame 
 you; I blame myself. It was I who seemed to lead 
 you on who led you for I will deny nothing. I will 
 be honest, as you say, even if I was not brave enough 
 to silence you. Let me confess so much, to my ever 
 lasting shame. I led you, yes, to say what, surely, 
 you would not have said one moment later." 
 
 " But for this, you mean," he said, turning gloomily 
 toward the picture. ; The moment, it is true, was 
 accidental. Yet the impulse and the will were strong 
 within me the need to speak. Sooner or later, even 
 without the accident of this discovery, I must have 
 spoken." 
 
 "No; you would have understood. I should have 
 made you understand, without a word, with silence 
 of another sort. You would not have spoken then. 
 But all that is changed, and all, perhaps, is better as 
 it is. Who knows? I might have doubted still, have 
 lost my courage, have failed again in thought and 
 deed. Now, the dreadful moment that I feared has 
 passed, and I am strengthened in my resolution. 
 Nothing can shake it now. If I loved you 
 
 Once more her voice trembled; she hesitated, 
 stopped, while he caught up the speech sharply where 
 she left it. " If you loved me, well, go on! If you 
 
 175 
 
The Courage of Conviction 
 
 loved me, " he repeated, "as you did once a year, 
 a week, an hour ago! You, yourself, admit it." 
 
 " If I loved you still I would never have admitted 
 it at least to you." And now her voice, though low, 
 was singularly strong and clear. " Never! To be 
 weighed and found wanting, to defy all responsibility 
 and duty would bring no happiness. There may be 
 women in the world like that, there may be men who 
 love them, but not in any world I know. What man 
 ner of woman have I become that you should think 
 so poorly of me ? " 
 
 "A strange one!" he muttered, angrily. "No! 
 Women the world over are alike capricious, illogical, 
 unreasoning! Love! Duty! is it one or the other, 
 or both at once, to go on living as we are? I will 
 tell you what it is; a wrong to me, a greater wrong 
 to to him." 
 
 " I love him," she protested. " The wrong, now, is 
 in your words." 
 
 "Words!" he cried. "What are they? I am half 
 mad. I cannot put two words together. I trust neither 
 mine nor yours. I trust only those dictates of the 
 heart and soul, of the love not to be expressed, to 
 which, in spite of all you say, we two have yielded. 
 I believe nothing but that, and the proof, stronger 
 than any words, is here." 
 
 He laid his hand heavily upon the picture-frame so 
 violently that the easel shook and threatened to fall. 
 
 176 
 
Where Light in Darkness Lies 
 
 As he righted it something slipped from its narrow 
 shelf, and clattered to the floor. Mechanically he 
 stooped to pick up the object, which, with some sur 
 prise, he turned over and over in his hands. It was a 
 clasp-knife, with the blade open. 
 
 " I love him," she repeated, quietly. " Words are 
 nothing. But you will trust mine now, with the proof, 
 stronger than words, in your own hand." 
 
 "What do you mean?" he asked. "This knife?" 
 
 " I brought it to end this saddest of sad matters, 
 once for all. The way was clear before me. I had 
 conquered my weaker self, I had overcome evil with 
 good, had escaped the snare, the strong delusion. Only 
 the symbol of them both, the wretched symbol, was 
 left here a hideous remembrance! I came here to 
 destroy it." 
 
 " I see. A hideous remembrance! In another mo 
 ment you would have cut it from the frame. Is that 
 the truth?" 
 
 " Yes. I am out of bondage. You may recall the 
 past; you can never bring it back. You came too 
 late." 
 
 " And it is a hideous remembrance, that is all." 
 
 He looked at her for an instant with dim, reproach 
 ful eyes that entreated her to cancel the phrase he 
 dwelt upon. But her eyes did not flinch. There was 
 in them only calm negation. Then he turned, and, 
 with a few swift strokes of the knife, cut the picture 
 
 1/7 
 
The Courage of Conviction 
 
 into strips, tearing them out and throwing them 
 down. 
 
 " Strange tricks memory plays us! " he murmured, 
 more to himself than to her. " I said once that I 
 should long, some day, to do this very thing. Why 
 should I remember that? Given the why and where 
 fore, it was done so easily." She did not seem 
 to hear him, but stood staring at the heap of ruined 
 canvas. He tossed the knife into it, with a laugh. 
 Then, in another tone, addressing her directly: "I 
 have destroyed your property," he said, " yet some 
 trouble, at least, has been spared you, some small 
 difficulty. You would hardly have done that yourself 
 before my face and eyes. Considering the why and 
 wherefore, you will forgive me." 
 
 " You will never forgive me," she answered, sadly. 
 " I shall never forgive myself." 
 
 " M ein Lieb, zvir sollen Beide elend sein ! " he re 
 turned, moving toward the door. " Do you remember 
 Stahlberg s song to Heine s words? Gordon did well 
 to set them. It is written that we shall both be 
 most unhappy. Both? All three! No matter; let 
 us leave out the personality, and call it misfortune, 
 fate, circumstance, what you please. Like Job, we 
 will curse our day, not each other." 
 
 " Job lived to repent," she said, tremulously, "in 
 dust and ashes." 
 
 " That is a fine prospect," he retorted. " Well, we 
 178 
 
Where Light in Darkness Lies 
 
 must accept the decree of destiny. To dust and ashes 
 we commit ourselves." 
 
 He had opened the door, but hesitated, and once 
 more turned toward her. She would not meet his 
 look, but, conscious of the movement, shrank from it 
 and him unconsciously, with downcast eyes. 
 
 " And yet one word would change it," he said, after 
 a moment s waiting; "one word!" But now she 
 turned from him in silence, and he contested no more 
 his lost cause. " You will not speak. Dust and ashes, 
 then!" 
 
 The door closed behind him. She stood motion 
 less where he had left her, until the sound of his foot 
 steps had died away. Then, when the need of self- 
 control had passed, a sharp reaction followed it, and, 
 sobbing hysterically, she found relief at last in over 
 whelming tears. 
 
 179 
 
XIV 
 
 CERTAINTIES UNFORESEEN 
 
 r I"* HE short November days were not half long 
 -*- enough for Gordon Wise. His burden of cares 
 seemed to wax heavy with the waning year, and, turn 
 or twist as he might, he could not lighten its fatal load. 
 There was no longer any doubt in his mind that the 
 cloud in the Northwest had increased and darkened. 
 Grass grew in the wide, outlying avenues of Nokomis ; 
 even Anthony Stanwood, himself, reluctantly admitted 
 that its affairs had not rallied with triumphant swift 
 ness into normal conditions. Something retarded the 
 pendulum in its backward course. After months of 
 costly effort the " only true, natural " Northwestern 
 port remained where the fire left it, actually at a 
 standstill. But no process of reasoning would force 
 its chief promoter to admit for a single instant what 
 Gordon at first vaguely feared and then perceived too 
 surely, the fact, namely, that the loss to Nokomis had 
 resulted in Wenonalrs gain. It was one of the old 
 schemer s favorite maxims that facts and figures would 
 not lie ; yet when his son-in-law anxiously directed his 
 attention to some bulletin of statistics issued by the 
 rival community, he treated it derisively, as so much 
 
 1 80 
 
Certainties Unforeseen 
 
 ingenious advertising. Bullifant, the infallible, knew 
 better than that. Let Gordon read over again the Big 
 Injun s last letter, and he would be convinced by its 
 evidence that Wenonah and Nokomis were really in the 
 same boat, caught for the moment in the same eddy of 
 the sluggish current. It was low water everywhere. 
 There had been over-expansion, over-confidence on all 
 sides. A reaction had set in, and they were feeling its 
 effects. The country now grew over-cautious. Busi 
 ness was dull, money was tight; no one had the spirit 
 to engage in anything, even though saints and angels 
 guaranteed it. If Wenonah declared the contrary, she 
 told a hellish lie. Nokomis, well in the van, could af 
 ford to wait, to lie low. The moment the tide turned 
 she would go her way rejoicing, on the crest of the 
 wave. Meanwhile, the trouble must be accepted as 
 national, not local. All must stand still and take it. 
 The times were hard. 
 
 No matter to what high-soaring metaphors his 
 speech ascended in the heat of argument, it always in 
 the end came back to that: the times were hard. But 
 when Gordon hinted that they might be harder yet, 
 might even be the hardest ever known, he would not 
 listen. Nor would he hear of any change or delay in 
 completing the new establishment, the splendors of 
 which blazoned to the world his own inexhaustible re 
 sources. No! The furniture, the appointments, and 
 the entire outfit must be put through, precisely as 
 
 181 
 
The Courage of Conviction 
 
 planned ; and the sooner Gordon and Nina moved in the 
 better. Any other course would be a ridiculous admis 
 sion of weakness. No miserable tabby cat should have 
 the ghost of a chance to shake her head and say that 
 Anthony Stanwood could not stand a little squeezing. 
 
 Gordon, even while dreading the storm, secretly be 
 lieved in the old man s power to weather it, whatever 
 its extent might be. Still too near this high-handed 
 arrogance for impartial judgment, still too ready to 
 follow where inclination prompted, he obeyed orders 
 cheerfully, and urged on the work, all the more vigo 
 rously for his wife s new sympathy with it. Either 
 from a sense of duty or of returning health, of from a 
 combination of the two, as he conjectured, Nina s whole 
 attitude toward the house and its equipment had sud 
 denly changed. The old indifference was gone. She 
 now seemed anxious to demonstrate, by every possible 
 means, her active interest in details which formerly 
 had only perplexed and annoyed her. After their re 
 turn to town this interest steadily increased. She con 
 sulted the mechanics and directed them, engaging in 
 personal supervision of a sort that heretofore would 
 have overtaxed her strength. Gordon, surprised at 
 first, soon yielded to the pleasant influence, seeking 
 suggestion and submitting to it, flattered by her un 
 mistakable eagerness to promote his favorite schemes. 
 It was she who reported progress in them now, while 
 he listened and approved at the end of each day s work, 
 
 182 
 
Certainties Unforeseen 
 
 each day entrusting more of it to her. Thus the order 
 of their lives became reversed, in a way that would have 
 seemed to Gordon little short of miraculous had he 
 taken more time to reflect upon it. As it was, he ac 
 cepted the situation gratefully, happy, amid grave anx 
 ieties, in the thought that Nina cared, without ques 
 tioning the thought. Since he had never been in the 
 habit of discussing business matters at home, Nina, 
 while noting his preoccupation, attached no especial 
 significance to that. It was a busy time everywhere; 
 he was busy down-town ; and she, on her side, merely 
 worked the harder, tip-town, in consequence. 
 
 So stood their house affairs ten days before the time 
 fixed for occupying the new premises, of which they 
 were to take possession on the last day of the month, 
 all forces to the contrary notwithstanding. Such 
 dilatory mechanics as then remained must be dispersed 
 or driven into closer quarters ; otherwise, as Gordon 
 declared, the delay would never end. He had resolved 
 to take an active part, himself, in these final proceed 
 ings, for an hour or two, at least, of each day, setting 
 other business aside desperately and defiantly ; but 
 even this partial suspension of routine was denied 
 him. For Anthony Stanwood suddenly fell ill, and, 
 reluctantly taking to his bed, left Gordon to battle with 
 the warring elements alone. He could not absent him 
 self during the day, as he had hoped to do ; and even 
 the night was encroached upon by visits to the sick 
 
 183 
 
The Courage of Conviction 
 
 man s bedside. There, reporting minutely all current 
 events of street and market, it delighted him on sev 
 eral occasions to find the invalid in an aggressive mood, 
 propped up by pillows, with the evening papers spread 
 out before him, chafing under restraint, profanely san 
 guine still. 
 
 But on the evening of the twenty-fourth, when he 
 came in after an uneasy day, all this had changed. The 
 nurse met him at the door with a caution to make his 
 visit short. And no warning was really needed. The 
 newspapers were unopened ; and the redoubtable head 
 of the house lay weak and listless, concerning himself 
 neither with friend nor foe, indifferent even to his own 
 discomfort. All Gordon s fears for the morrow were 
 left unspoken. He could only await silently the coming 
 of the doctor, who, however, found no especial cause 
 for anxiety in this new phase of the case. It would 
 pass, perhaps, before morning ; the patient was by no 
 means at death s door. Mrs. Wise should not be 
 alarmed unduly. She need not know. 
 
 So Gordon, disguising this new apprehension, indeed 
 dismissing it, went home to bed, where he lay awake 
 all night, haunted by forebodings of disaster. That 
 day s trials were unmatched in his experience. There 
 had been many failures, rumors of more to follow, pre 
 dictions of general panic. What would the next day 
 bring forth? He dreaded to see its light. If he could 
 only close his eyes, and open them again a week hence ! 
 
 184 
 
Certainties Unforeseen 
 
 It was impossible that the strain should last so long. 
 Would it were next week, and all well over ! 
 
 Yet when light came he welcomed it. Action, after 
 all, was better than suspension of the power to act. He 
 faced the day almost with joy, in high spirits, which a 
 favorable word of Mr. Stanwood s condition seemed 
 to warrant. Since all went well with him, why might 
 not the vague terrors of the dark as well prove un 
 warrantable? Perhaps there was an error in the cal 
 endar, and by occult processes they had arrived at next 
 week already, beyond the reach of danger. The 
 thought made him smile, and the smile deceived his 
 wife, who had observed the heaviness in his eyes, but 
 now forbore to speak of it. In parting from him, Nina 
 had not the faintest suspicion that he went out to meet 
 unusual cares. She was no interpreter of signs or 
 portents ; to her all business was painfully mysterious, 
 if not inscrutable. 
 
 As he plunged into the day s affairs it seemed to Gor 
 don Wise that the powers of mischief had gathered 
 strength through the night s interval. There was no 
 more smiling now. He knew that the strained look in 
 every face must be reflected in his own. The letters 
 gave him little encouragement; and from the North 
 west came no word. Ominous silence ! Then, at its 
 appointed hour, the market opened wildly. Stocks 
 dropped out of sight. The recording tape coiled up 
 impossible rumors of rack and ruin, only to confirm 
 
 185 
 
The Courage of Conviction 
 
 them. Strong men lost their heads. Amid deplorable 
 scenes of consternation the threatened panic had begun. 
 
 Gordon, beside himself, could hardly determine 
 which way to turn. But there were obligations to 
 meet, and in the Winnipeg King s absence counsel 
 must be taken with his loyal liegemen, the bankers, 
 Harvey, Long & Co. To them, therefore, Gordon 
 would have turned ; and was even on his way to them 
 when he encountered news that chilled him to the bone. 
 Harvey, Long & Co., borne down with the rest, had 
 suspended payment. The shock was like some con 
 vulsion of nature, beyond man s power to control. En 
 tirely disheartened, he went back to his post. Nothing 
 mattered much, since the worst blow had fallen. But 
 he had used the superlative too hastily. A moment 
 later came a telegraphic message. He tore it open. 
 From Nokomis ! Word of the Northwest, at last, 
 such a word, deadly in its directness ! " Bullifant left 
 town last night with all funds available. His where 
 abouts unknown." The paper slipped from Gordon s 
 trembling hand. He closed the door of his inner room 
 to shut out the world, and, dropping into a chair, cov 
 ered his face. This, then, was the worst. What more 
 could happen ? Let time stand still ! 
 
 The tape clicked on, twisting and writhing in a white 
 tangle upon the floor. How long Gordon sat thus alone 
 with it he never knew. After five minutes, or ten, or 
 fifty, to his dismay, the great first cause, flushed with 
 
 1 86 
 
Certainties Unforeseen 
 
 excitement, Anthony Stanwood himself, carrying an 
 armful of papers, burst into the room. The interrup 
 tion roused him as nothing else could have done. He 
 sprang up with but one thought, the risk to the in 
 valid of this ill-timed exposure and fatigue. 
 
 " You ought not to be here," he said, gently. " Why 
 did you come? You are not well enough." And he 
 laid his hand in mild reproach upon the sick man s arm. 
 
 But the King shook himself free, impatiently. " I m 
 as well as you are. That s all right ! Open the inner 
 safe, here s the key. It s a great day for us, my boy ! 
 A great day, a great day ! " And tossing his burden 
 down, he paced the room, muttering the phrase over 
 and over. 
 
 Gordon stared in amazement. " What do you 
 mean ? " he asked. " You haven t heard. Harvey, 
 Long & Co. they have failed, and 
 
 A storm of profanity cut short his speech. " The in 
 fernal asses ! They ve lost their heads ! " went on the 
 old man, wildly. " Do as I tell you, and trust to me." 
 
 " But that s not all," insisted Gordon, hopelessly per 
 plexed. " Bullifant ! " and he caught up the telegram 
 just received. " Look ! Bullifant has gone has left 
 us in the lurch 
 
 " To hell with Bullifant ! " cried Mr. Stanwood, tear 
 ing the message into bits. " Be quick, can t you ! Open 
 the safe, get out those things ; it s a great day for us. 
 You ll see ! you ll see ! " His words trailed off inco- 
 
 187 
 
The Courage of Conviction 
 
 herently. He flung himself into a chair, and spread his 
 mass of papers out before him upon the table ; then, 
 taking up a pen, he began with inaudible comments to 
 jot down notes and figures. 
 
 Gordon, meanwhile, still failing to understand, with 
 the habit of blind obedience fastened upon him, turned 
 to the safe and hurriedly unlocked its inner door. 
 What priceless treasure lay behind it, he wondered. 
 Alas ! he found there neither the philosopher s stone 
 nor the elixir of long life, but only a few tracings of 
 Nokomis, the ill-starred city, outlined previsions of 
 its golden future, which, until the phoenix should be re 
 generated, were useless rubbish. What did it mean? 
 Suddenly the meaning dawned upon him in all its grim- 
 ness. Yet, with faltering hope, he doubted a moment 
 longer. 
 
 " Are these the things you want ? " he asked, turning 
 back to the table, over which the Winnipeg King, bent 
 low, scratched and mumbled among his papers, ab 
 sorbed in futile calculation. 
 
 The old man clutched the tracings eagerly, and un 
 rolled them. " Yes yes," he declared. " See ! That s 
 the west side. Every lot there is mine, mine, all 
 mine. I m going to put em on the market at twenty 
 dollars a foot. Twenty? Fifty they ought to bring! 
 Just let me turn it into black and white. I ll figure it 
 out for you ! " 
 
 It was true, then, beyond all doubt. The iron will re- 
 188 
 
Certainties Unforeseen 
 
 coiled upon itself at last. Mr. Stanwood s mind had 
 failed him. 
 
 Gordon touched the overburdened shoulders with a 
 gentle pressure. " Not now ! " he said, quietly ; " all 
 that can wait. We are tired out, both of us. Let us 
 go home and rest." 
 
 " Rest? " Mr. Stanwood objected. " You can rest, 
 if you ve a mind to. I ve got to work, that s what I m 
 here for. There s three millions of dollars waiting for 
 a turn of my hand, yes, double that ! I ll have em, if 
 it takes all day. Don t talk to me ! " And he plunged 
 back into his vast problem, as if an instant s delay 
 would prove fatal to it. 
 
 Gordon s eyes filled with tears. He left the financier 
 to his delusion, and strode up and down, striving for 
 an effective word that should collect the scattered 
 senses, which maundered on, forgetful of his presence. 
 Then someone knocked softly ; and he found in the 
 outer room Mr. Stanwood s nurse. The man explained 
 that the patient, appearing much stronger that morn 
 ing, had dressed himself, rationally enough ; but, after 
 ward, had cunningly contrived to slip down-stairs and 
 out of the house. To bring him back quietly would, 
 no doubt, be a simple matter, if he were humored a 
 little. Not to alarm him was the important thing. 
 
 Thus instructed, Gordon went in alone for another 
 attempt. 
 
 " How do you get on? " he inquired, cheerily. 
 189 
 
The Courage of Conviction 
 
 Old Anthony looked up and winked. " Oh, we re 
 in fine shape ! " he chuckled. " We re a-going to down 
 Wenonah devilish quick, and have big money to burn. 
 It s hot stuff hot stuff, my boy! By the old Harry, 
 though, it s hot work, too ! Open the windows, can t 
 you? and let in the Lord s fresh air." 
 
 " Better than that ! We ll go out into it," said Gor 
 don, with the same counterfeited lightness of manner. 
 " It s luncheon time. But I want to see the figures. 
 Bring them along ; we ll talk them over ! There s a 
 carriage at the door." 
 
 " Good enough ! " assented Mr. Stanwood, follow 
 ing the lead instantly. " I m with you ! " and, rising, 
 he began to stuff the papers into his pockets. " Where s 
 old Bullifant? He must come, too ! " 
 
 " Yes, yes. We ll find him. Come ! " 
 
 Mr. Stanwood laughed loud and long. " I just want 
 to see the Big Injun s face when he hears me talk. 
 That s all ! " So, in fine spirits, making no resistance, 
 he came out with Gordon to the carriage. The nurse 
 mounted the box ; and thus, without more ado, they 
 drove the poor, wandering power that was to his home. 
 Once there, he showed no surprise, and remained indif 
 ferent to all that went on around him, demanding only 
 pencil and paper. Occupied with these, he passed grad 
 ually from apathy to drowsiness, and finally sank to 
 sleep in the darkened chamber. Beyond it, the tide of 
 affairs which he had so long controlled swept madly 
 
 190 
 
Certainties Unforeseen 
 
 on toward dissolution ; but to a happy unconsciousness 
 of this extremity charitable fate had now consigned 
 him ; all active part in the worldly influences of good 
 or evil for him was over. 
 
 Gordon Wise, meanwhile, turned back despairingly 
 into the glare of day. The carriage had waited at the 
 door; and, stepping into it, he reflected bitterly that 
 this must be the last of such luxuries for him. Yet no 
 man counts cost at the first rush of falling fortunes. 
 And what was a dollar more or less in all this grievous 
 increment of ruin ? He had work to do, he must save 
 his strength and get over the ground. There was Nina, 
 first of all, still ignorant of their accumulated disasters ; 
 he must see her at once, and break each item of the 
 dreadful news to her as gently as he could. All his 
 thought centred now in her as he whirled on to his 
 own house. How will she bear it? he wondered; and 
 answered the question, himself, with one word : bravely. 
 
 But Nina was not at home. One of the servants, 
 who stood at the door despatching a load of furniture, 
 thought that Mrs. Wise might be found at the new 
 house, where these things were to go. Thither, accord 
 ingly, Gordon proceeded, stirred by this simple domes 
 tic incident into fresh anguish. The new house ! The 
 new house that never could be old ! To-day they were 
 moving into it ; to-morrow it would be out of their pos 
 session. 
 
 There she was, in the great drawing-room of what 
 191 
 
The Courage of Conviction 
 
 Paul Hemming had sportively called the piano nobile, 
 and, mercifully, she was alone. Beside her lay a pile 
 of costly stuffs, to be used as hangings, brought there 
 for her consideration. One of these a splendid white- 
 and-gold brocade had been drawn apart from the rest ; 
 and she stood before it, studying the effect. Recogniz 
 ing Gordon s step, she turned with a look of pleased 
 surprise, which changed quickly to one of alarm. 
 
 " Nina ! " he began, and felt, before another word 
 was spoken, her instinctive knowledge. " Nina, there 
 is something that I must tell you something that will 
 be hard to bear, but we must bear it together ; it is bad 
 news." 
 
 " You are ill ? What is it, Gordon ? My father ? He 
 is dead ! " 
 
 " No, no ! it is not that. He is ill, that s all upset 
 by what has happened. We have the worst reports 
 from the Northwest have lost a great deal of money 
 in point of fact, gone to pieces. We must give up 
 everything this house 
 
 She interrupted him with a cry that struck upon his 
 startled ears as one of satisfaction ; and her words which 
 followed it confirmed the impression strangely. 
 
 " Oh, I am so glad ! " 
 
 " Glad ! " he echoed, in amazement. What did it 
 mean ? Had she, too, lost her reason ? 
 
 But now she threw her arms about his neck and 
 kissed him. " Gordon, dear Gordon ! " she went on, 
 
 192 
 
Certainties Unforeseen 
 
 half laughing, half sobbing. " You cannot understand. 
 I feared it was so much worse. To lose the money is 
 the merest trifle, if that is all if there is no dis 
 grace " 
 
 " None, dear, none, I hope ; I am sure of it. But we 
 are ruined. Is not that enough? All this goes with 
 the rest to satisfy our creditors." 
 
 " Oh, Gordon, I am so thankful ! This is nothing 
 nothing. I have never cared for it. The truth is, that 
 I have hated it always." 
 
 " Nina! What are you saying? " 
 
 She drew herself up, smiling through her tears. " It 
 is the truth," she repeated, quietly. " I had no heart 
 in all this luxury, not even the heart to protest or to 
 complain. You would not see, what did it matter? 
 I have tried to obey the letter and the spirit, for bet 
 ter, for worse, it was. Well, let the worst come to the 
 worst now ; now, you will see, and it will all be so much 
 better, so much easier. You will see. I shall not com 
 plain." 
 
 Love and admiration mingled in his eyes, which the 
 rising tears slowly dimmed. " Nina, you are an 
 angel ! " he murmured, and made a movement to throw 
 his arms around her. 
 
 " No, no ! " she protested, shrinking from him now 
 unaccountably, and, as he persisted, struggling to free 
 herself in a kind of terror. " You must not say such 
 things. I don t deserve them." Then she broke down 
 
 193 
 
The Courage of Conviction 
 
 completely, and, resisting no longer, hid her face upon 
 his shoulder. He soothed and comforted her, until this 
 outburst of grief, incomprehensible to him, had almost 
 exhausted itself; until, as she grew calmer, he turned 
 for relief to the question of the moment. 
 
 " Nina ! " he whispered. " I must not stay here 
 longer. Let us leave this place, which is not ours. Be 
 brave, look up ! and come with me ! " 
 
 She recovered herself instantly, and, drawing his 
 face gently down, kissed him upon the forehead. " I 
 am ready," she said. " Come ! " 
 
 So they went out together, in the glow of a new, in 
 expressible happiness, with scarce another thought for 
 the splendors left behind. And this to him seemed 
 stranger than all the rest ; that the luxury upon which, 
 but yesterday, so much depended should now count 
 next to nothing. 
 
 She would not hear of the carriage, and made him 
 dismiss it, then and there. They could not afford such 
 extravagances ; she must go at once to her father s, 
 but on foot. He yielded, and as they walked he pre 
 pared her with great tenderness for the sudden turn 
 which Mr. Stanwood s illness had taken, dwelling on 
 the hope that the old man s alienation of mind was 
 merely a temporary thing. Her pace quickened ner 
 vously, but she faced this new anxiety with cheerful 
 courage. If it were really but the malady of a mo 
 ment, why, surely, all must be for the best. Her 
 
 194 
 
Certainties Unforeseen 
 
 father s scheming was his whole life. He had been 
 self-sufficient always. For him, in misfortune, there 
 could be no solace, such as they had found. 
 
 At the door Gordon waited only long enough to hear 
 that Mr. Stanwood was still asleep; then turned back 
 to take up the tangled threads of business, where his 
 enforced absence left them. The most disheartening 
 of all labors! Yet he resumed it with a strength un 
 known before, and unimagined. His wife had borne 
 the bad news bravely, as he had foreseen. What he 
 had not foreseen was the inestimable value to him of 
 such a wife. 
 
 195 
 
XV 
 
 ADVERSITY 
 
 " T F there is anything that I can do, it shall be done," 
 
 *- declared Brinkley Barrington, emphatically ; 
 " by any means which you advise, direct or indirect." 
 
 " We must reckon without the first altogether," re 
 plied Dr. Brinkley. " This is not a case of charity, but 
 one where quiet influence, judiciously exerted, may 
 turn the scale. Wise was more fortunate than some 
 of the men who came to grief a year ago. He had the 
 resources of his talent to draw upon." 
 
 " Precarious at best, and at the worst a pitfall ! " 
 asserted the millionaire and materialist. " In turning 
 to music as a profession at his age, or, indeed, at any 
 other, Wise displayed enormous courage or enormous 
 foolhardiness." 
 
 The doctor pulled his big mustache reflectively. 
 " It was the natural bent, after all," said he, " to which 
 Wise reverted when the other course failed him. I un 
 derstand your point of view, but, as a professional man, 
 must admit his, also. A profession is not without ad 
 vantages, Brinkley." 
 
 " Yes, when there s money in it. But, music, good 
 196 
 
Adversity 
 
 Heavens! How does Wise keep his head above 
 water?" 
 
 " Well, he doesn t drive a four-in-hand," explained 
 the doctor, smiling at his own impossible suggestion. 
 " And he makes his pupils pay the piper. Without 
 them he would surely be submerged. Last winter, 
 his first, he contrived to secure a reasonable number. 
 Then the summer intervened, and the question of con 
 tinuance arose. This autumn has been a very anxious 
 time with him. But the worst of that anxiety, I trust, 
 is over. Melodious longings seem to spring eternal in 
 the human breast, and Wise has somewhat the luck of 
 a patient fisherman. Ambitious victims begin to snap 
 at his bait again." 
 
 " It must be a dog s life. Where does he live? " 
 
 " Under the roof, in a small apartment off Wash 
 ington Square, with a fine prospect of the stars. It s 
 not so bad a place, for a musician. I was there this 
 morning. In fact, I came directly from him to you." 
 
 Mr. Barrington stirred uneasily in his easy-chair, and 
 whistled, as if to keep his courage up in the approach 
 ing moment of desperation. Then, turning to the doc 
 tor with a puzzled look, he made his plunge. 
 
 "Well, George, what would you have?" he asked. 
 " Am I to take a course in harmony, counterpoint, or 
 whatever the devilish thing may be, and become an 
 item of social gossip, with a printed testimonial for 
 advertising purposes ? " 
 
 197 
 
The Courage of Conviction 
 
 " Not half a bad idea ! " said the doctor, laughing. 
 " Suppose I take you at your word. But I think my 
 own idea is better, and so, I think, will you." 
 
 " Fire away, then, at your worst ! In Heaven s 
 name, what am I to do ? " 
 
 " First, you must understand that Wise is by nature 
 and profession a composer. In the intervals of in 
 struction he writes songs, and sells them." 
 
 " I see ; but I don t sing in public, more s the pity ! " 
 
 " No. Still, there are those who do, with whom your 
 word has weight. A word is all I want, not sung, but 
 spoken." 
 
 " To whom shall I speak it, pray ? " 
 
 " Why, to Madame Stahlberg. She is announced at 
 the Opera House for the winter, and has just landed. 
 On the off nights, as usual, she will have her song-re 
 citals, here and in other cities, besides the many private 
 engagements which may be offered her. At each of 
 these she must sing a group of Wise s songs, to keep his 
 name before the public, and make him, as it were, the 
 composer of the hour. That is the pious scheme which 
 sprang into my head, just now, as I left his door. He 
 knows nothing of it, naturally. It is all my own. I 
 come to you at the moment of its inception." 
 
 " Very cleverly contrived ! If " 
 
 "If?" 
 
 " If the lady, herself, will only play her part in it." 
 
 " The lady should be predisposed already in its favor, 
 198 
 
Adversity 
 
 since she made a hit with one of Wise s things in your 
 own house, not so very long ago." 
 
 " True. I had forgotten that," admitted Mr. Bar- 
 rington, more hopefully. " What she did once, she shall 
 do again, when she sings for me this season. So much 
 I guarantee. But any man may lead a prima donna to 
 the water, and no man can make her drink, even of the 
 Pierian spring. I will do the leading; beyond that all 
 rests with her caprice, or her manager s." 
 
 " Good ! I have faith in your diplomacy. Madame 
 Stahlberg is broad-minded and benevolent, they say. 
 Do your part, and who knows ? Her virtues may com 
 bine with her caprice and interest much to Wise s ad 
 vantage." 
 
 " You believe in his talent, then? " 
 
 " Yes," replied the doctor, unhesitatingly. " It 
 needs for development only the warmth of recogni 
 tion. What is more, I believe in his courage, and in 
 his wife s." 
 
 "Ah! So she bears misfortune bravely." 
 
 " Without fear, without reproach. She faces all, 
 accepts all, ventures all with cheerful readiness. It 
 was she who urged Wise to his present course. You 
 may credit her with whatever measure of success is 
 in store for him. She is a woman in ten thousand, 
 Brinkley." 
 
 " Who would have thought it of old Stanwood s 
 daughter? I remember admiring her when she came 
 
 199 
 
The Courage of Conviction 
 
 to us once at Brinkwood. They were on the top of 
 the wave then. Poor girl ! " 
 
 " Don t pity her, my dear fellow. It s a waste of 
 emotion which she would be the first to deprecate. 
 Wave or no wave, if I am any judge, Nina Wise is 
 happier now than she was then, strange as it may seem 
 to you." 
 
 Plainly, to Mr. Barrington it seemed very strange 
 indeed, but he deferred discussion of the point. " She 
 has no children, I believe," he remarked, after a silence. 
 " And her precious skinflint of a father? What has 
 become of him? " 
 
 "Ah! There is room for your compassion. He 
 deserved his fate, no doubt, yet I think his worst 
 enemy might forgive him now." 
 
 "What! Is he dead, or dying?" 
 
 "No; alive very much alive, counting his millions 
 all day long, on paper. He is a harmless imbecile 
 in a private asylum, where I saw him the other day 
 at Nina s request. An incurable case! " 
 
 " Poor devil! Yet, after all, he is happy, I suppose. 
 Why should I pity him? I won t and don t. But if 
 old Stanwood saved nothing, even for the feathers of 
 his own nest, he must have turned imbecile indeed." 
 
 " He had no choice in the matter," said the doctor. 
 " Everything went by the board. Nina would even 
 have turned over to the creditors the small sum she 
 inherited from her mother. But I prevented that, 
 
 2OO 
 
Adversity 
 
 and it is now in my hands. The income is little more 
 than enough to make her father comfortable." 
 
 Mr. Barrington sighed. " Well, George, I wish for 
 all their sakes that the old villain, in a lucid interval, 
 had buried a few thousands somewhere, and that you 
 were in charge thereof. As for the Stahlberg scheme, 
 whatever it may be worth, I repeat that you may 
 count on me to act promptly. Is that all?" 
 
 " Yes, until my laboring brain delivers itself of an 
 other burden," laughed his cousin as they parted. " A 
 thousand thanks! " And Dr. Brinkley went out again 
 into the morning sunshine. 
 
 " A few thousands buried somewhere ! " he mur 
 mured to himself as he turned from the Avenue toward 
 his down-town train. " If only Nina had them, and 
 would trust me with the secret. Ah!" Struck with 
 a sudden thought, he stood still in surprise and per 
 plexity, then walked on at a slower pace, while the 
 thought still absorbed him. "Strange, strange!" he 
 muttered. " I had forgotten that completely. And 
 she has never referred to it. That is strange, too." 
 Stopping again, he pulled out his watch. " I must 
 see her at once; the sooner the better." And, dismiss 
 ing all affairs but this, he hurried to the train with a 
 new purpose, and in half an hour rang at the door 
 of Wise s apartment. The sound of piano-playing 
 penetrated to the landing. Gordon was busy with a 
 pupil, then, of course. Capital! since he particularly 
 
 201 
 
The Courage of Conviction 
 
 desired to see Mrs. Wise alone. She was at home, 
 the maid said. And he went in unannounced, con 
 gratulating himself heartily upon his swift determina 
 tion. 
 
 Sunshine streamed into the small parlor, giving the 
 room an air of cheerfulness which it sorely needed. 
 For it was bare, insufficiently furnished, and its ap 
 pointments were such as the present occupants would 
 never have chosen. Enforced association with them 
 must have added a minor trial to life; yet Nina s face, 
 as she sat at work there, expressed only contentment. 
 A momentary shade of anxiety clouded it at the doc 
 tor s unexpected visit. She dropped her sewing, and 
 started up, but a glance reassured her. Whatever his 
 object might be in coming back, he did not bring bad 
 news. 
 
 " You have forgotten something? Shall I call Gor 
 don in?" she asked, with a smile. Then, at his nega 
 tive sign, she resumed her place. 
 
 " Yes, and no ! " he answered, as he drew up a 
 chair for himself. " That is to say, I have forgotten 
 something; so have you. But we need not trouble 
 Gordon with it." 
 
 " I don t understand you. What have we for 
 gotten ? " 
 
 " A certain piece of property, which you acquired 
 long ago through me, which now should be available, 
 to wit : Paul Hamming s painting of Tithonus. " 
 
 202 
 
Adversity 
 
 She started and changed color, as the doctor must 
 have observed; but since she did not speak, he con 
 tinued, calmly: 
 
 " When, at your request, I bought the picture for 
 you, I hardly regarded it in the light of a profitable 
 investment. But Hemming has had his share of suc 
 cess, through which the value of all his work is pro 
 portionately increased. As this form of property, 
 however, bears no income it should be disposed of 
 and the proceeds reinvested. I want your leave to sell 
 the picture, that is all." 
 
 "I understand," said Nina, in a low voice; "but 
 it is impossible." She had put the work aside again, 
 and her restless hands clasped and unclasped them 
 selves nervously. 
 
 " Surely not. The question of ownership need not 
 arise at all. I will see to that, and 
 
 " But it is impossible, quite impossible." 
 
 "Impossible? Why? " demanded the doctor. She 
 did not answer, and, misinterpreting her silence, dis 
 turbed, for more reasons than one by her persistent 
 opposition he went on, emphatically, in a tone of 
 annoyance: "The picture is valuable. You have no 
 right to keep it longer." 
 
 Then, with the same air of effort, avoiding his look 
 of surprise and displeasure, she replied: 
 
 " It is no longer in my keeping. It does not ex 
 ist." 
 
 203 
 
The Courage of Conviction 
 
 "What do you mean?" 
 
 " I mean that the picture of Tithonus has been 
 destroyed." 
 
 The doctor started in his turn. "Destroyed!" he 
 stammered, still failing to comprehend, while all pos 
 sible accidents of fire, flood, and lightning coursed 
 through his mind at once. " I I did not know that 
 you had removed it from the storage warehouse," he 
 said, inconsequently. 
 
 " I did not remove it. It was destroyed, not 
 through accident, more than a year ago." 
 
 The cloud in the doctor s mind melted away. Look 
 ing with clearer vision, he detected the truth in part, 
 and drew upon his imagination for the rest. 
 
 "Ah! I see," he said, more gently. "Since you 
 have destroyed the picture, there is no more to do, 
 no more to say." 
 
 In point of fact, there was much to say. Dr. Brink- 
 ley s heart was suddenly lightened, and he longed 
 to put his relief into words. But to find the right ones 
 was no easy matter. He hesitated for a moment, then 
 rose, took up his hat, and moved toward the door, still 
 hesitating. It was he, now, who avoided her look, feel 
 ing that he must get away as best he might, and leave 
 expression of the predominating thought until another 
 time. 
 
 Meanwhile, during this awkward silence, which was 
 broken only by notes of the piano in the inner room, 
 
 204 
 
Adversity 
 
 Nina had been watching him intently. Unable to 
 divine what he would not reveal, she took his em 
 barrassment for vexation, his uncertainty, for ill-con 
 cealed coldness. He had misunderstood her statement, 
 of course; that mattered little. But his mind was too 
 alert not to have grasped something of what, by im 
 plication, the statement admitted. He guessed what 
 forces had been at work, and he blamed her, justly, 
 alas! perhaps even more than the sternest justice war 
 ranted. She was overcome by an extravagant fear that 
 if he left her now without further speech the first step 
 would have been taken toward a breach in their long 
 friendship, a breach that might never be healed. 
 How to prevent this? She could not bear the thought 
 of it. He should not carry away a false impression. 
 She must be definite, at last, and, forcing him to an 
 acknowledgment, extort some word of pity, of conso 
 lation. Or, failing these, it seemed to her that open 
 censure of the sharpest sort would be better than such 
 reserve. Ideas, half-formed, crowded thick and fast 
 upon her, confusing themselves hopelessly. Of them 
 all one alone was clear. He must not go unchal 
 lenged. 
 
 "Wait one moment!" she faltered, as, at the door, 
 he turned toward her for his formal leave-taking. 
 "Wait! You do not understand. It was not I who 
 destroyed Mr. Hemming s picture." He looked up, 
 mystified, to meet her look, that now was not with- 
 
 205 
 
The Courage of Conviction 
 
 drawn. " You must hear, I must explain. It was 
 not I, but Mr. Hemming, himself." 
 
 She gained courage at the sound of her own voice. 
 It grew stronger as, in plain terms, she proceeded to 
 disclose the secret of her heart; once committed, im 
 parting without reservation her doubts and certainties, 
 the mental struggle, the processes of resistance; de 
 scribing the chance encounter and its consequences, 
 the passionate appeal, the strong denial, the final event 
 which that denial had precipitated, laying the burden 
 of blame throughout upon herself, making it light to 
 Hemming. An hour ago she would have been willing 
 to swear that, for her, such a confidence to any human 
 being was an utter impossibility, not only from the 
 nature of the facts, but also from the mere physical 
 difficulty of clothing them in words. Now, the ease 
 with which the inconceivable task was accomplished 
 startled her; so, too, the increasing comfort which fol 
 lowed every word. Her weight of sorrow shared, 
 seemed reduced proportionately. Upon that she had 
 not reckoned; it was unaccountable, unless due to the 
 attitude of the confidant on whom her tortured soul 
 relied. He listened gravely, without a syllable of in 
 terruption; but there was helpful tenderness in his 
 glistening eyes. 
 
 When she had finished speaking he laid his hand 
 upon her shoulder, and in a moment said, gently: 
 
 " Something of all this I half suspected. I feared 
 206 
 
Adversity 
 
 danger, hoping that my fear would never be con 
 firmed. I knew no details, I could not be sure; but 
 I was sure of one thing absolutely, that, if the danger 
 came, you were strong enough to meet it. I was 
 right, you see; it has passed, leaving you stronger 
 still." 
 
 " You will not even blame me, then," she sighed. 
 " I could have borne that better." 
 
 " Blame you ? Yes ; for judging yourself too harshly. 
 The fault, if you insist upon it, has been atoned. To 
 express all I feel would be to praise, not blame you, 
 in terms of admiration to which you would not 
 listen." 
 
 She shook her head, with an imploring gesture. 
 
 " But you will let me give you a word of advice. 
 To that you must listen, since you have trusted me 
 so far." 
 
 " Of course," she answered, simply. " Pray go 
 on." 
 
 " One question first, not of yourself, but of Paul 
 Hemming. What has he said or done? " 
 
 " Nothing. What should he say or do? Since that 
 day I have not seen him." 
 
 " And he has never written? " 
 
 " Never." 
 
 "Strange! Not one word to you or to Gordon of 
 your change in fortunes?" 
 
 "Ah! I did not understand. When the change 
 207 
 
The Courage of Conviction 
 
 occurred he wrote Gordon instantly a long letter, full 
 of sympathy. There was a message to me, the merest 
 formal message, nothing more. He has sent pupils 
 here, and Gordon sees him sometimes, though never 
 in this house." 
 
 The doctor drew a long breath of satisfaction. " I 
 am very glad to hear it. All is as it should be." 
 
 " It could not well be otherwise. What else was 
 possible? " 
 
 " Nothing else, since Paul Hemming is a gentle 
 man. He could but accept your word as final, and 
 conform to its implied conditions. Clearly, he has 
 done so, as might have been expected, for the matter 
 of that; yet it is always pleasant to have one s faith 
 confirmed. You will meet, some day, of course; in 
 the nature of things that is not to be avoided. But 
 there should be no shadow of feeling between you, 
 no arriere-pensee on either side. He will do his best 
 on his, I am sure. My advice to you is to do yours, 
 to put this whole sad matter at once and for ever from 
 your mind." 
 
 " If I could forget," she demurred. 
 
 " Do we ever forget anything? " he asked, earnestly. 
 " I do not exact so much. But the leaf is turned 
 down, and I beg you not to turn it back, that is all. 
 The sins we have all committed would harrow up our 
 souls if we regarded them continually. Each one of 
 us has a background of the dreadful past, mercifully 
 
 208 
 
Adversity 
 
 dimmed by time, when kept where it belongs. To 
 drag it forward is the fatal error of a morbid nature. 
 Yours is the reverse of that, to be followed instinctively 
 and safely. Follow it, then ; be sound, be wise ; leav 
 ing this between ourselves, never referring to it again, 
 never thinking of it, if that be possible; letting the 
 remembrance die a natural death, as the wrong itself 
 has died." 
 
 "And Gordon?" she suggested, mournfully. "It 
 was a wrong to him. " 
 
 " The past is past," he replied, with emphasis. " To 
 make present trouble of it would only inflict pain, of 
 which I see no need. Be silent, be forgetful. Let 
 time heal the wound. That is my advice; try at least 
 to follow it." 
 
 " I will do my best," she said, after a moment s 
 thought, " if only to prove that I am grateful for your 
 kindness. How grateful, I cannot tell you." 
 
 " Do not speak of that! " he urged, as they shook 
 hands and parted. " What friend of yours would not 
 have said as much? Count upon me always for all 
 the help I have to give." 
 
 When Nina was left alone a great calmness seemed 
 to descend upon her soul. The bitterness of self- 
 reproach was allayed, if not removed, and that peace 
 of mind which the sympathy of a wise counsellor alone 
 brings with it, soothed and cheered her. How good 
 and kind and true the doctor was! Above all, how 
 
 209 
 
The Courage of Conviction 
 
 gentle! His compassionate expression of judgment 
 might well have been inferred as the natural outgrowth 
 of long experience in dealing with perplexities, mental 
 and physical. Why had she not trusted to it frankly 
 long ago? What a strange chance had brought about 
 the unpremeditated confidence, a chance which now 
 she regarded as the most fortunate of blessings! 
 
 With more than common zeal during the next few 
 days she strove to counteract in her husband one of 
 those professional discouragements which at times 
 seem to benumb the bravest spirits, making effort 
 futile and hope a mockery. Gordon in such moments 
 rarely complained. But his drawn looks and op 
 pressive silences for her were full of meaning. 
 
 Her endeavor, then, was to turn him for an hour, 
 at least, from his daily cares, and, upon the pretext of 
 standing much in need of exercise herself, to take him 
 out into the open air, while she diverted his train of 
 thought until his spirits should keep pace with that 
 prescribed for hers. It was often uphill work. Yet 
 sometimes he came back refreshed, rewarding her 
 pains by an admission that the walk had done him 
 good. In this instance, however, his fit of depression 
 was prolonged, and her indirect struggles with it 
 proved, one after another, unavailing. 
 
 They were walking home in the twilight through 
 lower Fifth Avenue. He had not spoken for a long 
 time. She, feeling that present resources were ex- 
 
 2IO 
 
Adversity 
 
 hausted, now abstained from disturbing him. A group 
 of day-laborers, returning from work, came toward 
 them in the failing light, toil-stained, dull, heavy- 
 featured, silent as themselves. As they stepped aside 
 to let the workmen pass he stood still, looked after the 
 rough, misshapen figures, and sighed. 
 
 " What is it, Gordon ? " she asked, putting her arm 
 in his to draw him on with affectionate insistence. 
 " You must tell me. It isn t fair not to let me know." 
 
 He sighed again, then yielded to this direct attack. 
 " No," he said, " it isn t fair. I was only envying 
 those men, that s all. They work with their hands, 
 not their heads; it s wiser, more profitable. I have 
 been thinking that I ought to do the same." 
 
 " Oh, Gordon ! Not seriously ? " 
 
 " Yes. Not literally, of course, with spade and pick 
 axe. I have hardly the gift for that. But there are 
 other forms of drudgery, pure and simple, which bring 
 in daily bread, which are sure and safe, so far as that 
 goes. The game we are playing is horribly uncer 
 tain." 
 
 "We are not beaten yet. Are we?" 
 
 " Perhaps not. But I must look ahead, or we shall 
 be deep in debt before we know it. And, looking 
 ahead, I see so many obstacles." 
 
 " Obstacles are things to be overcome, Gordon. 
 Dr. Brinkley quoted that the other day. Let us live 
 on bread and water, and overcome them." 
 
 211 
 
The Courage of Conviction 
 
 " That s well enough in theory, but not easy to 
 practise. Where failure is unavoidable, the sooner one 
 admits the fact the better." 
 
 "With the fact proved, yes; no, while any doubt 
 remains. Doubt means hope. And you say yourself 
 that the game is still uncertain. Wait a little longer, 
 Gordon. Surely your success warrants it." 
 
 " My success! " he repeated, bitterly. " That is all 
 artistic, so-called. A will-o -the-wisp a fool s fire ! It 
 has no commercial value." 
 
 " Well, that may come, sooner than you conceive, 
 perhaps ; it will come. We must not give up yet." 
 
 " And in the meantime we must live. While the 
 grass grows the horse starves. Read your Hamlet. 
 The proverb is something musty. " 
 
 To this she made no answer. They had reached 
 their own door, and went up the long flights of stairs 
 to their apartment, silently, in the dark. After strik 
 ing a light he passed on into the room devoted to 
 his work, but presently came back, bringing some 
 papers in his hand. 
 
 "See!" he said. "Here is my account, which 
 Strelitz, the publisher, sent nearly a week ago. I had 
 not the heart to show it to you. My songs are drugs 
 in the market; they will not sell. Look at my profits 
 for six months. Compare them with the butcher s bill 
 for one." 
 
 " We must have patience," she replied, putting the 
 
 212 
 
Adversity 
 
 papers aside gently. " Patience and courage, the 
 courage of conviction." 
 
 " How long? Until the old songs are turned into 
 trunk-linings and the new ones declined gratefully? 
 That would be conviction with a vengeance." 
 
 " Yes. Before giving in, I would go even as far as 
 that, farther, even." 
 
 " But we cannot live on faith always. Mean 
 while 
 
 " Meanwhile, there is your teaching, Gordon." 
 
 " A means to an end, that s all. At a desk down 
 town I could make double the money. And we need 
 it. Let me strike our balance for you." 
 
 He sat down to steep himself in figures, adding, 
 multiplying, erasing them. She, after putting away 
 her hat and coat, began to set the room in order, par 
 ticularly one corner of it where her own desk stood. 
 There she fluttered softly about, removing impercep 
 tible dust, glancing from time to time at her husband 
 nervously. At last he tossed aside his pencil, and 
 summoned her to inspect his calculations. These were 
 not encouraging. The result, which he carefully ex 
 plained in detail, showed that bankruptcy and ruin were 
 imminent. They must have more money, to go on 
 even as they were going. That was the black and 
 white, the long and short of it, without superfluous 
 flourishes. 
 
 " You see, my dear, in three months " he went on, 
 213 
 
The Courage of Conviction 
 
 then stopped short, wondering if she understood, for 
 she answered nothing; indeed, had seemed not to hear. 
 But, in a doubtful way, she went back to the desk, 
 and, taking from it a small roll of bank-bills, put them 
 into his hand. 
 
 " Here is some money that I have saved," she ex 
 plained. " It is not much, but we may add it to the 
 balance." 
 
 "Nina, what do you mean? What is this?" 
 
 " It is very little," she replied, smiling at his genuine 
 astonishment. " I did not mean to let you know until 
 I had earned enough to make the bit of news worth 
 while, but 
 
 " Earned it? How?" 
 
 She laughed aloud at this, and, pulling open a deep 
 lower drawer of her desk, displayed various pieces of 
 unfinished needlework. 
 
 " In this way, with my hands, of course. I had so 
 much time hanging heavy on them! It has all been 
 done through Suzette Brinkley, who is more than 
 good about it. Look ! I have orders ahead for things 
 like this," and she held up a scrap of embroidery. 
 " It is very easy work, you see, just the kind that 
 I like most to do." 
 
 He was at her side in an instant, bending over the 
 drawer to examine the work gravely. And, taking 
 both her hands in his, he kissed them. " You have 
 done all this, and I never knew never imagined " 
 
 214 
 
Adversity 
 
 Then his voice broke as he turned away to pace out 
 the incomplete sentence. 
 
 " Gordon, you don t mind, do you? I hated so to 
 be idle ; I thought that I must help to put off the evil 
 day, if only a little. You don t really mind, dear, do 
 you?" 
 
 He stopped in his walk and, drawing her toward 
 him, clasped her in his arms. " No, dear, I don t mind. 
 Give me your courage, and I ll do my best. The evil 
 day shall be postponed, for a while, at least; at least 
 we won t give up the fight until we re fairly beaten. 
 But how cold you are! Come into the workshop. 
 We ll make a fire there, with these! " And he caught 
 up the publisher s disheartening account to start the 
 blaze upon their one small hearth-stone. The open 
 fire was a luxury which they often denied themselves. 
 But to-night Gordon heaped up the logs till the chim 
 ney roared. Formerly, when they could build fires 
 in plenty, Nina had too often been left alone with 
 them. Now misfortune had drawn the two together 
 inconceivably, quickening old sympathies, reviving old 
 affections. In the hour of trial he had turned his back 
 resolutely upon everything that he seemed to hold 
 most dear, facing privation without complaint, striv 
 ing before all else to smooth the way for her. She 
 admired his courage, which was but the reflection of 
 her own, though of that first cause she remained quite 
 unconscious. Her admiration strengthened the love 
 
 215 
 
The Courage of Conviction 
 
 which once so nearly had relaxed its hold; and from 
 these two forces, intensified by the undercurrent of 
 remorse for weakness that now seemed to her incred 
 ible, resulted a demonstrative tenderness which touched 
 him profoundly. He, too, had his remorse for selfish 
 neglect of her in prosperous days; but when he tried 
 to speak of this she would not listen. They were to 
 look forward, not back, as she declared, strong in their 
 present happiness, assured by mutual confidence that 
 they could bear together whatever burden the future 
 should lay upon them. 
 
 As they sat in the firelight Gordon wished to be told 
 exactly how Suzette Brinkley s friendly schemes had 
 been carried out. It was like her to come forward in 
 a practical way ; she had her father s kindliness ; why 
 was it that so fine and generous a nature as hers 
 should persist in the limitations of single life ? It must 
 be her own fault, of course; she found lovers, no doubt, 
 by the score ; he had always liked her ; now, as it 
 appeared, he wanted to see her married, off hand. 
 When Nina, laughing at his earnestness, reminded 
 him that single women, and even single men, had been 
 known to live happily as well as altruistically, he would 
 not agree. He had been single himself once, and he 
 knew better. However such abnormal beings might 
 strive to disguise it, they also knew well enough that 
 marriage was the great desideratum of human life, 
 and its evasion a calamity. The delinquents were to 
 
 216 
 
Adversity 
 
 be blamed or pitied. If Suzette had lost her heart 
 to some irresponsive fellow, perversely wasting his 
 opportunities, her case was of the pitiable kind. But, 
 granting this for purposes of argument, the case 
 might not have reached an incurable stage. The fel 
 low, supposing him to exist, might yet be induced to 
 see the error of his ways. Was there such a man? 
 Did Nina know, or had she any reason to suspect? 
 
 Upon this Nina, grown suddenly grave again, dis 
 claimed all knowledge of the point. She had discussed 
 these matters but once with Suzette, long ago, the 
 evidence at that time being purely negative. In any 
 event, she disapproved of interference; match-making 
 was perilous philanthropy. Gordon, taking the op 
 posite ground, endeavored lightly to prolong the argu 
 ment, but with small success. She remained serious 
 and unconvinced. Then, begging the question, he 
 maintained that observation, at least, could do no 
 harm. Merely for his own enlightenment, he should 
 study Suzette with all his eyes and ears to discover 
 what, if anything, was the matter with her. Would 
 not his wife help him out, with her own keener in 
 sight and better opportunities? Merely to enlighten 
 him, as he said before, he liked to know the causes 
 of things. 
 
 How Nina would have warded off this thin end of 
 the wedge, so artfully presented, is uncertain. For 
 at that moment came a ring at the door, and a note 
 
 217 
 
The Courage of Conviction 
 
 was brought in, a note written upon tinted paper, 
 bearing a golden cipher, and addressed in a strange 
 hand to Mr. Gordon Wise. So suddenly may a stroke, 
 well-timed, repair the fortunes of a tottering house. 
 It was a note from Madame Stahlberg, asking for a 
 business interview. 
 
 218 
 
XVI 
 
 FOR many days after the grievous misadventure 
 into which his fate had betrayed him, the state 
 of Paul Hemming s mind was by no means enviable. 
 The light of his life seemed suddenly extinguished, 
 leaving him closely akin to that most tedious being, 
 described by the sage, who is content to be nothing, or 
 never to have been. At times he persisted in regard 
 ing himself as the innocent victim of a wrong which 
 could be set right with a single word, and it was not 
 the least of his afflictions that his dreams were haunted 
 continually by the assurance that the word had been 
 spoken. To wake was to recognize very speedily not 
 only his delusion, but also the folly of cherishing those 
 thoughts which induced it; since in his more rational 
 moments of self-communion it remained clear that his 
 dismissal had been definite and final. Yet the allur 
 ing dream recurred repeatedly, and the recognition of 
 its fallacy was attended with increasing bitterness of 
 spirit. He grew depressed, morose, at odds with all 
 the world. But if there survived in his waking hours 
 any lingering hope to make these odds all even, it was 
 cancelled, at last, by the abrupt catastrophe to the 
 
 219 
 
The Courage of Conviction 
 
 house of Wise. He knew Nina well enough to con 
 vince himself that whatever domestic unhappiness the 
 future appointed for her would now be faced with a 
 patient fortitude, precluding utterly the solution by 
 heroic measures which he so desperately had urged. 
 He was not in her confidence, and, therefore, not in 
 formed, in so many words, that, if one thing were 
 needed to confirm irrevocably her resolve, that thing 
 had occurred. But he was neither blind nor a fool, and 
 could divine, at least, some portion of the truth. The 
 Gordian knot had been tightened rather than unloosed 
 by a stroke of adverse fortune ; and, for release, even 
 the last resort of Alexander was too weak an instru 
 ment ; only the sword of Azrael, the destroying angel, 
 could cut it now. 
 
 This inevitable conclusion was not of a kind to raise 
 Paul Hemming s spirits at a single bound. On the 
 contrary, its first result was to plunge him deeper into 
 a gloom so strangely disheartening as to bewilder all 
 his friends and acquaintances. From being at variance 
 with the world, he proceeded to withdraw himself from 
 it altogether. Why should he continue to frequent the 
 old paths which had no longer a possible outlet, any 
 where, for him? He disregarded them all, to become 
 a recluse ; declaring, when open remonstrance inter 
 posed to turn him from this new course, that this the 
 exigencies of his art required. He had weighed the 
 world, and found it wanting; its duties, devices, and 
 
 2 2O 
 
Nature s Kindly Law 
 
 pastimes were distasteful to him, futile, too, since he 
 had no disposition to marry, no social aims whatever. 
 His sole ambition was to excel in his chosen field ; and 
 he asked no more than to be permitted to cultivate it 
 in the way which seemed best, to be let alone, in 
 short. He had but one life to live. 
 
 So he argued, as many a dispirited lover has done 
 before him. The remonstrants, tiring of vain en 
 deavor, shrugged their shoulders, and passed on, leav 
 ing him to the concentration of his studio. For that, 
 as it happened, the moment could not have been better 
 fitted. He had work already in progress, other work 
 projected, into which he threw himself with a vigorous 
 industry which soon began to bear fruit, of which he 
 had never dreamed. The resultant examples of what, 
 afterward, was called his second period, when ex 
 hibited to the public, received unstinted praise, and 
 were sold instantly, upon the best of terms. He woke, 
 literally, one morning to find himself famous, more 
 than that, to find that the art which had been his safe 
 guard was now his consolation. 
 
 The experience, so new to him as to be unaccount 
 able, is, in reality, as old as defeated love itself. The 
 weaker natures, only, are borne down by passion, 
 which, as a wise philosopher has pointed out, was di 
 vinely meant to be " a paroxysm not a state." He, 
 who, when the fit is on him, has the strength to sub 
 due it, making gain of loss, works out his own salva- 
 
 221 
 
The Courage of Conviction 
 
 tion, and is the stronger for his victory. So it has 
 ever been, so it will ever be, while our poor humanity, 
 in its odd jumble of component parts, retains one spark 
 that is superhuman. 
 
 The natural process, in such a case, is often a very 
 slow one. And in the present instance, as has been ex 
 plained, it was not only slow, but complicated also by 
 deviations, apparently extravagant and unreasonable. 
 Through them all, however, a peculiar idiosyncrasy, 
 tinged with remorse, made Hemming appear always at 
 his best to Gordon Wise. They met less frequently 
 than of old. Yet whenever they were thrown together, 
 the painter, with him, was more like his former cheery 
 self than with anyone else. He recognized and ap 
 proved the courage wherewith his comrade of earlier 
 days accepted the trying reverses which had befallen 
 him. And striving manfully to disguise his own depth 
 of sorrow, that no question of it might arise between 
 them, he exerted himself to make his genuine sympathy 
 practical and helpful in all which was actually needed 
 to keep the old friendly relation intact. He did no more 
 than this, to be sure. But they were both the busiest of 
 men. And if Gordon sometimes wondered why his 
 friend never knocked at his door, the thought of his 
 own labors and consequent social shortcomings served 
 at once to dispel any gathering doubt upon that point. 
 He had never in the day of success attached much im 
 portance to superficial forms and obligations. Hem- 
 
 222 
 
Nature s Kindly Law 
 
 ming was up to his eyes in work; and there was 
 abundant evidence of a loyalty on his part which could 
 afford to make light of perfunctory compliance with 
 the laws of etiquette. When Hemming s pictures car 
 ried off the honors at the Spring Exhibition, Wise was 
 among the first to congratulate him heartily and un 
 reservedly. 
 
 One day, when these honors had taken effect in a par 
 tial rearrangement of the gallery, Hemming, going in 
 at an early hour, found Suzette Brinkley there alone. 
 He had not seen her for months ; but he ignored that 
 circumstance, and, with ready tact, she, too, avoided 
 any hint of it. They fell at once into conversation, and 
 he was gratified by her simple frankness and cordiality. 
 Sincerely glad to see him, she did not hesitate to make 
 her satisfaction evident. She had been standing before 
 his pictures, which now were given a panel to them 
 selves. But he led her away, to dwell upon the good 
 points that he had especially noticed in work of other 
 men. These were many, for in art he was a generous 
 optimist. Thus they made slowly, still together and un 
 interrupted, the circuit of the rooms, while she listened 
 in eager attention, or commented briefly with that keen 
 intelligence which he so well remembered. At last, 
 when they had almost reached the starting-place, she 
 moved on alone, and, stopping before his own group, 
 studied it for some minutes silently. As the silence 
 was prolonged, a queer embarrassment overcame him. 
 
 223 
 
The Courage of Conviction 
 
 He drew aside and apart, in a kind of nervous appre 
 hension, never felt before, dreading any word from her 
 but the right one, deprecating even that. A clock 
 struck in the anteroom with loud insistence. At the 
 sound she started, turned suddenly, and offering him 
 her hand, said, in a low voice : " I did not know it was 
 so late. Thank you a thousand times ! it has been de 
 lightful to see you." Their hands clasped for an in 
 stant, and in the next she was gone, hurrying away 
 brusquely, timidly, as if in flight. Her words, mere 
 polite formalities, had been spoken beside the purpose 
 with averted eyes. She had been delighted to see him, 
 yet had taken no pains to bestow upon him, at parting, 
 the favor of a look. 
 
 Why? he wondered. By what word or sign, unin 
 tentionally, unconsciously, had he wounded her? He 
 could recall nothing, nothing but silence. Did his 
 labor of all these months prove so disappointing, then, 
 that she could not conscientiously commit herself even 
 to a civil phrase regarding it? He stared at his can 
 vases reproachfully. No ! surely, they were not so bad 
 as that. Perhaps, in saying nothing, he had seemed 
 supercilious, almost antagonistic, indifferent, to the 
 point of unfriendliness. Yet one could scarcely offend 
 negatively at such a moment. It was inconceivable ! 
 Some wave of feeling, whose drift he failed to follow, 
 must have swept through her mind unexpectedly. How 
 should he expect to follow it? Women were erratic, 
 
 224 
 
Nature s Kindly Law 
 
 emotional creatures, governed by no law of man s de 
 vising. It was some trifle, born of nothing, amounting 
 to nothing, when all was said and done. Once again, 
 inconceivable, that was all ! 
 
 That night came a note from her, a short, appar 
 ently a hurried one. She begged his pardon for ex 
 treme rudeness. What must he think of her? And 
 she had enjoyed the morning with him so much ! She 
 had tried to express her pleasure in his work. But 
 praise was so difficult, poor, and feeble in its terms, at 
 best. Yet he must have seen she hoped so, at least 
 that she liked his pictures more than she could say. 
 
 In response to this he wrote a line of thanks. Then, 
 on the point of tearing her note in two, he changed his 
 mind, and put it carefully away. It was a pleasant 
 kind of note to receive, worth keeping, perhaps, in re 
 membrance of these times, when they should have 
 grown old. Miss Brinkley was a very intelligent girl, 
 sympathetic, with a gift of critical appreciation. He 
 wished that he might see her oftener. But that could 
 hardly be, in view of his present mode of life. He still 
 refused all invitations, lest one, leading to another, 
 should involve him in the social meshes. Yet society, 
 persistently disregarding this, merely spread its nets 
 with greater cunning, as if there were an organized at 
 tempt to lure him back. That, however, was no affair 
 of his. He need but remain firm, to tire out these in 
 sinuating, friendly schemers. It suddenly occurred to 
 
 225 
 
The Courage of Conviction 
 
 him, as he refolded his gentle critic s message for safe 
 keeping, that the Brinkleys had never sought by word 
 or sign to change his purpose. They, with whom, for 
 merly, he had maintained constant terms of intimacy, 
 seemed to have lost all personal interest in him. He 
 could not remember when he had been asked to their 
 house. Was it that, perceiving his inclination to avoid 
 the world, they respected this, and left him religiously 
 alone from the kindest of motives? Possibly. Yet, if 
 that were all, why should his good friend, the doctor, 
 pass him in the street with the merest formal saluta 
 tion? This had happened once or twice, when he, 
 himself, would willingly have stopped and spoken. 
 And now that, in search of a reason, he attached 
 weight to the trivial circumstance, it happened once 
 again. 
 
 This last encounter followed hard upon his pleasant 
 hour with Miss Brinkley in the picture gallery. What 
 had he said or done to induce coldness so marked upon 
 her father s part, which, clearly, she did not share? 
 How, inadvertently, could he have given offence? In 
 vain he assured himself that the matter was of little 
 moment. It excited his curiosity, and stirred him to 
 much disquieting speculation that could not be verified, 
 since he saw nothing of her or any of the family for 
 some months, during which the summer intervened, 
 and the courses of their lives ran no longer parallel. 
 But, in the late autumn, Mrs. Brinkley startled him by 
 
 226 
 
Nature s Kindly Law 
 
 a cordial invitation to dinner, confuting all his theories. 
 He had given no offence, then, and the fancied mal 
 treatment was purely accidental. His cloud of mis 
 understanding suddenly cleared away in a most satis 
 factory manner. For to lose an old friend without 
 just cause is no joke, even when one has forsworn 
 the world. He was strongly tempted to break his 
 inexorable rule for this occasion only. But, no ! The 
 date of Mrs. Brinkley s dinner was three weeks off; 
 this meant that it would be a large and ceremonious 
 one. To accept would signify his readiness, if not 
 his desire, to resume the yoke. Once there, he was 
 lost. In society, for a bachelor of acceptable manners, 
 there can be no sole occasion, no temporizing, no half 
 way measures. With such as he, it is all or nothing. 
 He would not yield ! He did not ; but declined the in 
 vitation with elaborate courtesy, explaining his rea 
 sons for rigid adherence to an established principle. 
 That the excuse was accepted in the right spirit was 
 soon made evident by a second note from Mrs. Brink- 
 ley, expressing sympathy with his decision, which she 
 found entirely reasonable. Having made his rule, he 
 must follow it, and she should be the last to urge him 
 otherwise. Yet they wished so much to see him, that 
 she ventured to suggest his dining with them quietly in 
 the following week, behind closed doors, so to speak. 
 Both the doctor and Suzette confidently hoped that this 
 mild transgression, if transgression it were, might be 
 
 227 
 
The Courage of Conviction 
 
 judged admissible. She promised faithfully that there 
 should be no one but themselves. 
 
 Thus the issue was evaded, the devil whipped round 
 the stump triumphantly. This last appeal made all 
 but imperative a favorable answer, which was given 
 at once ; and, on the night appointed, the dinner fol 
 lowed it. O, infinite power of little things ! A pebble, 
 rightly dropped, may turn a river from its course, a 
 mote may deflect a sunbeam ! In the great march of 
 human events one dinner, more or less, seems to go for 
 nothing. Yet that night was destined to shine out ever 
 more in Paul Hemming s memory as the first of his 
 regeneration. 
 
 228 
 
XVII 
 
 ADVENTURES BRAVE AND NEW 
 
 THE new phase of his life developed so gradually 
 that Paul Hemming was slow to recognize it. 
 Yet, finally admitted, the change seemed to him all the 
 more rational from its steadily increasing force. Hope 
 had stolen a march upon despair, at first imperceptibly. 
 When, at the end, despair was routed, all the mourn 
 ful past became like the torment of a dream. He had 
 been deluded, mad ; and he would gladly have blotted 
 from the calendar every pernicious record of his mor 
 bid state. But the ghost, though no longer in pos 
 session, was not entirely laid. Its remembrance haunted 
 him still. It had dominated him once; that was the 
 painful truth. He had neither the power, nor, as con 
 science admonished him, the right to forget the sad 
 condition. 
 
 It was midwinter before he fairly knew his own 
 mind, and found himself face to face with this moral 
 difficulty. In the meantime, hope mocked him by flat 
 tering signs, some of which, perhaps, were fanciful. 
 Yet, making due allowance for these, he still felt 
 assured that Suzette Brinkley s interest in him had 
 been strongly stimulated, even if it did not actually 
 
 229 
 
The Courage of Conviction 
 
 keep pace with his own in her. That she liked him it 
 was easy to see. What deeper feeling could a self- 
 respecting girl display toward any man, until a corre 
 spondent feeling on his part had been declared ? Was 
 it mere fancy that some disturbing thought weighed 
 upon her in his presence ? He hoped not ; and at the 
 same time he feared to be told that the thought either 
 was non-existent, or that it sprang not from the much- 
 desired source, but simply from the dread of provoking 
 innocently a declaration to which she could not listen. 
 That small dilemma, however, presents itself to all 
 suitors ungifted with extraordinary powers of inter 
 pretation and prevision. His greater problem lay in 
 the overshadowing remembrance, not to be ignored, 
 with which he knew not how to deal. 
 
 What course should he pursue? The hour came 
 when further delay was insupportable. And, forced 
 to a decisive step, he took one which appeared to him, 
 at best, of doubtful wisdom, dangerous perhaps, yet 
 surely honorable. He went to Dr. Brinkley, and laid 
 the case before him with the utmost frankness, reveal 
 ing every incident of his affair with Nina Wise, ex 
 tenuating nothing, taking the blame upon his own 
 shoulders ; insisting only that it was an affair of the 
 past, to which had succeeded the hope he longed to 
 prove. He begged the question of censure, con 
 demnation even, to place his fate entirely in the doc 
 tor s hands. Aware of the great risk to his happiness 
 
 230 
 
Adventures Brave and New 
 
 in doing this, he chose deliberately what seemed, con 
 sidering all the circumstances, his only honest way. 
 Should the judgment demanded be one of harsh dis 
 approval, none the less he pledged himself to abide by 
 it. In that event, his last word had been spoken. 
 
 Hemming could not sufficiently admire the self-con 
 trol of his chosen arbitrator. Displaying neither aston 
 ishment nor surprise, the doctor heard him out; then 
 studied him calmly for a moment with unclouded eyes, 
 professional in their keenness, yet not unfriendly. 
 
 " Are you sure of yourself, my boy ? " he asked ; 
 " sure, I mean, that the old desire is really dead, that 
 the second hope is strong enough to hold and last ? Re 
 member, this is a question not of hours and days and 
 weeks, but of a lifetime." 
 
 " I understand ! " sighed Hemming. " That you 
 should doubt me is not strange ; it would be strange, 
 indeed, if you did not. But in my mind there is no 
 doubt whatever. I am as sure as, as a man can be." 
 
 " I do not doubt you," returned the doctor, emphat 
 ically. " On the contrary, I trust you, as you have 
 trusted me ; and I thank you for your confidence. It is 
 the strongest possible guarantee of good faith, and, as 
 such, stands accepted. If my daughter loves you, well 
 and good ! I shall only approve, and be glad. I can 
 not answer for her. She must speak for herself, when 
 you have spoken." 
 
 Hearing this, Hemming could hardly believe his 
 231 
 
The Courage of Conviction 
 
 ears. He had come, not merely to present his cause, 
 but to plead it manfully in the face of opposition. And, 
 already, so far as this formidable opponent went, the 
 cause was won. 
 
 " Do you mean," he stammered, " that you will not 
 object? That I have your leave to go on? " 
 
 " By all means ! " replied Dr. Brinkley, offering his 
 hand with a smile. " When, where, and how you 
 please ! " 
 
 Hemming grasped the hand gratefully, and for a 
 moment was unable to speak. The doctor s reassuring 
 look changed, meanwhile, from quiet amusement to 
 satisfaction. Putting himself in the other s place, he 
 lived over again a supreme moment of his own youth, 
 when he, too, had been speechless. The agitated pause 
 was not only entirely natural, but also a further proof, 
 if any were needed, of sincerity. 
 
 " The sooner the better, then ! " continued Hemming, 
 with emotional abruptness. " I will go to Miss Brink- 
 ley and explain the situation, as I have explained it to 
 you." 
 
 The doctor shrugged his shoulders. " Not the whole 
 of it, I suppose," said he. 
 
 " Yes, all, from first to last. Why not? " 
 
 " My dear fellow, the impulse does you credit. But 
 I am not sure that such a course would be altogether 
 wise. Women are not men, remember that. They have 
 natures finer than ours, yet narrower. Lacking our ex- 
 
 232 
 
Adventures Brave and New 
 
 perience, they lack our tolerance, too. We must con 
 cede something to their views of life, and treat them 
 tenderly." 
 
 " Tenderly, but fairly," Hemming insisted. " In so 
 grave a matter as this, if in nothing else, I must be open 
 and above-board." 
 
 " No law of fairness compels a man to do himself 
 an injury," objected the doctor. " Deal with the pres 
 ent as openly as you please, and pledge the future, if 
 you will, to all eternity. But, for Heaven s sake, don t 
 rake up needlessly any ashes of the past, as you have 
 done for me ! They are dead and cold ! " 
 
 Hemming shook his head. " You seem to forget," 
 said he, " that it is a woman with whom I have to deal ; 
 sooner or later the past, inevitably, must be called in 
 question." 
 
 " Let it be later, then, when the times have changed, 
 changing the face of nature ; when your happiness is 
 secure beyond all question ; and not now." 
 
 " Beyond all question ! " repeated Hemming, doubt 
 fully. " Why, who can tell how soon this one will 
 come up ? Surely, I shall do better to forestall it. Sup 
 pose, for instance, that I were called to account at 
 once, to-morrow ? " 
 
 " Even so, you need give but the vaguest answer, 
 avoiding details, or, at least, postponing them. There 
 can be no harm in that. Trust me, it is wiser." 
 
 " No ! " said Hemming, after a moment s thought. 
 233 
 
The Courage of Conviction 
 
 " My dear boy, don t be rash ! " the doctor urged. 
 " Don t do what you may long to undo, an instant after ! 
 Suzette is the best and sweetest girl in the world, but 
 I understand her better than you do. Who knows how 
 this will affect her, what strange turn her woman s will 
 may take ? Not I ! Let her once make up her mind, 
 and neither you nor I can change it. The devil, him 
 self, couldn t! The risk you run is infinite. Think 
 twice before you speak ! " 
 
 " No ! " returned Hemming, stoutly. " In this case, 
 first thoughts are best, for me, the only ones ! " 
 
 " Well, if you must charge at windmills, Heaven help 
 you ! I can t." 
 
 " I don t want help, but your good-will ! " protested 
 Hemming, holding out his hand, to close the interview. 
 " And that I have already. Thanks for your advice ; 
 even though, for once, it should be disregarded." 
 
 The doctor grasped his hand mechanically. " Once 
 again, I beg you to reconsider this ! " 
 
 But, once again, Hemming declined to yield. " Pray 
 for me ! " he said, inflexibly ; and was gone. 
 
 " Quixotic ! " cried Dr. Brinkley, as the office-door 
 closed upon his refractory patient. " Quixotic ! " he 
 repeated, pacing the room feverishly. " That is the 
 only word for him ! Yet, I believe I like him all the 
 better for it. Damn me, if he isn t more than half right, 
 after all!" 
 
 234 
 
XVIII 
 
 UNDER THE ROSE 
 
 THE next twenty-four hours, for Dr. Brinkley, 
 were as uncomfortable as any that he had ever 
 known. They were hours of suspense and of irresolu 
 tion, that most wretched of states to a determined 
 man, who commonly chooses his course and follows it 
 with dogged persistence, whether it be disagreeable or 
 otherwise. Now, almost for the first time in his life, he 
 found himself incapable of choosing. That Hemming 
 would proceed at once with his threatened explanation 
 to Suzette he did not doubt. For one moment, it seemed 
 best to come between them, and, appearing inop 
 portunely, to insist that all disclosures made to her 
 should take place in his presence. Next, he discarded 
 this plan, as ill-judged; and determined, by seeking his 
 wife s counsel, to throw the whole responsibility of in 
 tervention upon her shoulders. But he hesitated to do 
 this, for two reasons. Either she would insist upon 
 the scheme of rash interference, which, as he began to 
 fear, might endanger Hemming s cause, if not ruin it 
 altogether; or, on the other hand, she would decide 
 that the better way was simply to await developments ; 
 in which case nothing could be gained by telling her ; 
 
 235 
 
The Courage of Conviction 
 
 while, on the contrary, if he said nothing, letting events 
 take their course, much distress of mind would be 
 spared her by the delay of a few hours. There was 
 safety in inaction. But when the comfortable dictum 
 had been formulated, upon the instant, the subject pre 
 sented itself in a new light, and indecision began again. 
 That Mrs. Brinkley liked Hemming, and would look 
 with favor upon his suit, the doctor knew. This was 
 the thing of all others which she desired most ; further 
 more, she had desired it for a long time. When its 
 possibility first occurred to her, the doctor, who now 
 wished for a successful issue as ardently as she, had 
 thrown cold water upon her pious stratagems for pro 
 moting it. He was discovered to be obstinately and 
 aggressively sceptical ; doubting, in the first place, that 
 his daughter s interest tended toward Hemming at all ; 
 second, granting such interest for the sake of argument, 
 that it was more than a passing fancy. Moreover, 
 upon shadowy grounds of his own which he did not 
 define, he refused to believe that a reciprocal interest 
 had arisen upon Hemming s part, nay, even that the 
 thought thereof had ever crossed the painter s mind. 
 In this state of unbelief, he not only raised objections 
 to open encouragement on their side, but he also put 
 his foot down firmly, as he said, against any advance 
 whatsoever. Now, the putting down of the doctor s 
 foot was a very serious affair, which had happened but 
 a few times in the world s experience ; and none knew 
 
 236 
 
Under the Rose 
 
 that better than his wife. Yet, for once, she resisted 
 the significant procedure; desperately arguing, that 
 since a certain young man and a certain young woman, 
 caught in the same social current, were more than 
 likely to meet now and then, their place of meeting did 
 not matter. What harm could there be in guiding the 
 current quietly, just a little? in inviting the young man 
 to dinner once in a very great while, for instance, with 
 other young men and women ? But that was precisely 
 the kind of instance at which the doctor bristled. That 
 would be an advance. The young man might dine else 
 where if he liked, and make any advance of his own 
 that he saw fit; when his forward step was plainly 
 demonstrated, well and good; until then, he should 
 neither be goaded nor decoyed. 
 
 Vainly, for some months, Mrs. Brinkley returned to 
 the charge again and again, with tears in her eyes. The 
 foot, having been firmly planted, was neither to be 
 stirred nor shaken. In consequence, she was unable 
 to learn, and the inability distressed her much, that 
 the young man and woman, whom, already, with no 
 warrant whatever, she denominated " the lovers," 
 were in the way of meeting from one month s end to the 
 other. Thus, at this time, affairs remained at a dead 
 lock. And, while it lasted, if the good doctor went a 
 little farther than he, himself, intended, even so far 
 as to pass Hemming in the street brusquely, with con 
 straint, the error was due to conscientious scruples. 
 
 237 
 
The Courage of Conviction 
 
 He had laid down the law, and must avoid even an ap 
 pearance of disregarding it. 
 
 Suddenly, unaccountably to Mrs. Brinkley, the high 
 injunction was annulled. One fine autumn morning, 
 when she ventured to hint that because of a small, un 
 reasonable impediment, namely, the foot, before men 
 tioned, they were all to live and die unhappy, she was 
 told, to her joy, that there might be just one chance 
 among a thousand in favor of her preposterous views. 
 If she cared to take the chance, to try her little experi 
 ment upon a foundation so slight in its nature, she was 
 at liberty to proceed with it. The doctor, with adroit 
 dissimulation, craftily appeared to concede the in 
 finitesimal point after long and painful study of the 
 case in all its bearings. The concession, in reality, was 
 nearly coincident with Nina s disclosure to him, of 
 which his wife knew nothing, of which, indeed, she 
 might never hear, since he regarded it as a professional 
 secret. Hard upon this, almost as the night the day, 
 followed Mrs. Brinkley s first invitation to dinner and 
 its refusal ; then, the second attempt, which, more fortu 
 nate, was the means of luring her reluctant guest back 
 into the world. 
 
 And now that his wife s little experiment, so far as 
 Hemming was concerned, had not failed, but succeeded, 
 the doctor stood, figuratively, upon pins and needles; 
 longing to pursue it to the end, yet dreading the false 
 step that would ruin all, he watched and waited, in 
 
 238 
 
Under the Rose 
 
 acute nervous tension, most unlike himself. He had 
 inferred, not unnaturally, that the strong purpose to 
 which Hemming was committed must sweep to its ful 
 filment with the least possible delay. And, accustomed 
 to read hearts in faces, he studied those familiar to 
 him, sure of detecting instantly the first morbid or ab 
 normal sign. But, at dinner that night, he found not 
 the slightest trace of domestic upheaval. Suzette was 
 in her wonted spirits ; his wife, if he were any judge, 
 had no extraordinary weight upon her mind. Nothing 
 stirred the tranquil air, until his own suppressed ex 
 citement betrayed him into solecisms of the table ; and, 
 even these, at first, passed all unheeded. No one ob 
 served, as he was thankful to see, that he attacked his 
 soup with a fork; or that, after crumbling his bread 
 to powder, he tossed a pinch of it over his left shoulder. 
 But, when, in one moment, he upset the salt, and, in the 
 next, prepared to drench the shining heap with the con 
 tents of his claret glass, a shriek stayed his hand. He 
 turned the leg of mutton the wrong way, and butchered 
 it like a young bridegroom ; said " no " when he meant 
 " yes," or vice versa ; begged to have each question 
 which was put to him repeated ; and lapsed, with 
 wrinkled brows, into such strange fits of abstraction 
 that his wife demanded an account of them more than 
 once. He assured her that his mind was as empty as an 
 egg-shell, and, for a time, counterfeited this blissful 
 state of it so well that she was half deceived. Later, 
 
 239 
 
The Courage of Conviction 
 
 when they were alone, the discovery that his mind was 
 not empty, but absent, provoked her to frequent ques 
 tioning. " Why, George, what is the matter with you ? " 
 she asked, repeatedly ; to receive always the same an 
 swer : " Nothing ! " He passed a wretched night, op 
 pressed with nightmares. And, in the morning, still 
 gloomily distraught, when Mrs. Brinkley, again seek 
 ing a cause, hinted at some unusual professional 
 anxiety, he yielded to suggestion. He had a busy day 
 before him, that was all ! 
 
 Providentially for Dr. Brinkley, this statement, 
 framed to mislead, was literally true. His profession, 
 as it happened, made such demands upon him in the 
 next few hours that he could devote but a casual con 
 jecture, now and then, to the possible course of affairs 
 at home. He was summoned this way and that into 
 remote parts of the city where urgent need required 
 the close concentration of mind which is the physician s 
 second nature, which now, from sheer force of habit, 
 made everything subservient to it. The critical mo 
 ment, excluding personal considerations, became all- 
 in-all to him. Not, indeed, until the long succession 
 of tasks was entirely over, and he turned his face 
 homeward in the winter twilight, did he begin to feel 
 the weight of his individual burden, to realize that a 
 bad day had followed a bad night; that, tired and 
 worried as he was, the thought of what he had most 
 at heart afforded him neither rest nor consolation. 
 
 240 
 
Under the Rose 
 
 He longed to stop a moment by the way, to forget his 
 professional and private cares, if only for the moment, 
 in congenial companionship, not too intimate, that 
 of acquaintances rather than friends. The lights of 
 his club diffused warmly a sign of welcome, and, turn 
 ing in there, he found precisely what he sought, the 
 fire, the easy-chair, the cheery, good-natured souls 
 disposed to talk lightly. This change of atmosphere 
 proved instantly refreshing. He caught the note, and 
 in a few minutes grew as merry as the best of them. 
 That was the way to look at things! So, when the 
 medicine had done its work, he prepared to go on; 
 and then, in the hall, ran straight into the arms of 
 Paul Hemming. 
 
 He drew the painter aside into a small reception- 
 room, where they were quite alone. 
 
 " Well, what has happened? " he asked, under his 
 breath. 
 
 " Nothing yet. At least, nothing that I know of; 
 I can t be sure." 
 
 "What do you mean? You have not spoken?" 
 " No. You see, I decided to write instead." 
 "To write? What, where, how?" 
 
 " I sat up half the night over it. And then 
 
 "You sent it? When? Do you mean to say that 
 Suzette had received it this morning? " 
 
 " No. I thought that I had better deliver it myself. 
 But, unfortunately, Miss Brinkley was not at home. 
 
 241 
 
The Courage of Conviction 
 
 I have just left the letter at your door, a quarter of 
 an hour ago." 
 
 "Ah!" sighed the doctor. "She has received it, 
 then, by this time!" And he pulled out his watch 
 as if to verify the assertion. " What did you say in 
 it? Tell me quickly, everything." 
 
 11 That was exactly what I told her, everything. 
 I made a clean breast of the whole business the 
 worst case possible for me at first, then the best one ! 
 I said that it was all over, that I loved her, her only 
 honestly, devotedly; in fact, I repeated all I said to 
 you. And I begged her not to write an answer at 
 once; indeed, there would hardly be time for that 
 "Hardly time? Why? I don t understand you." 
 " Because we are to meet this very night at Bar- 
 rington s. Everyone is going there, you know. It 
 is a great night. Stahlberg is to sing." 
 
 "Yes, yes; I had forgotten. She means to go." 
 ; There would be no time, you see, for a letter be 
 tween now and then. I begged only for a word, not 
 written, not spoken, either, except by a sign." 
 "A sign?" the doctor repeated. "What sign?" 
 " I told her if she could forgive the past and trust 
 the future, if she thought that she could ever care 
 for me, not now, perhaps, but later, if there were 
 any hope, in short, merely to wear a rose in her hair; 
 that at Barrington s I should watch and wait for her 
 to come, should understand, should know." 
 
 242 
 
Under the Rose 
 
 The doctor, with a despairing look, buttoned his 
 coat about him. "I see!" he muttered. "The mis 
 chief is done, the murder s out, definitely. You have 
 put it all into her hands." 
 
 "As it should be!" replied Hemming, with an 
 emphasis. " Where else would you have me put it? " 
 
 " I don t know," was the helpless answer. " I can 
 only hope that good will come of it. You know how 
 much I hope that, don t you?" 
 
 " Yes," said Hemming, grasping the outstretched 
 hand. " I know." And so they parted. 
 
 The doctor hurried home in the dusk, overcome 
 with apprehension. Opening the outer door quietly, 
 he stole into his house like a thief. One of the ser 
 vants crossed the hall at that moment, and he put a 
 simple question to her as calmly as he could. 
 
 " Has Miss Suzette come in? " he asked. 
 
 " No, sir ; not yet," the maid informed him. And, 
 as she spoke, he saw upon the table a letter addressed 
 to Miss Brinkley, Hemming s. 
 
 The girl moved off, with no thought beyond her 
 immediate duties. And, catching up the letter, the 
 doctor passed into his waiting-room, which adjoined 
 the hall at the front of the house. Behind this was the 
 office, with a connecting door, half open; another door, 
 open, too, led from the office into the hall at the back. 
 Both rooms were empty. The doctor made a circuit 
 of them, turning up the lights and closing all the doors 
 
 243 
 
The Courage of Conviction 
 
 carefully; then he paced the outer room, holding the 
 sealed letter in his hand. 
 
 He had not long to wait. Almost immediately Su- 
 zette s key turned in the lock. He peered out upon 
 her mysteriously, and beckoned her in. 
 
 "Why, papa, what is the matter with you?" she 
 inquired, when they stood alone together behind the 
 closed doors. Her cheeks were flushed with cold, and 
 she put up her muff to warm them. She had never 
 looked better in her life, as he thought. He did not 
 wonder that the men wanted to marry her; the wonder 
 was that she had resisted them so long. 
 
 " I have a letter for you," he said, struggling for self- 
 control. " It is from Mr. Hemming, Paul Hem 
 ming, the painter. He wants to marry you." 
 
 For an instant the color left her face, which flushed 
 again in the next, not with cold. 
 
 " Oh, papa! " she gasped, steadying herself with the 
 back of a chair, and sinking into it. " He has written 
 to you? " 
 
 The doctor gave her a moment to recover, and then, 
 planting himself before the fire, went on, in a firmer 
 voice. " Not to me. It is to you that he writes. But 
 he has told me the contents of the letter. He con 
 sulted me, believing this to be the time for frankness, 
 desiring to withhold nothing, to inform me, as well 
 as you, of an earlier attachment which, for a while, 
 hampered him. It was a most unfortunate affair, but 
 
 244 
 
Under the Rose 
 
 it happened long ago, and, fortunately, is now all over. 
 If there was blame on both sides, there remains, also, 
 on both sides the credit of passing through a great 
 trial honorably, nobly even, as a right-minded man 
 and woman should. It is over, I repeat, happily over, 
 and he loves you now with all his heart and soul. I 
 am sure of that, so sure that I opposed the impulse 
 to make to you his full confession. He could not be 
 content without it. Here in this letter he tells you the 
 whole story. When you have read it be reasonable, 
 and judge him fairly." 
 
 She took the letter, turning it over and over in her 
 tremulous hands, and, avoiding his eyes, fixed hers at 
 last upon its unbroken seal. 
 
 "He did not show it to you?" she said, in a low 
 voice, inquiringly. 
 
 " No, my dear. But he has told me everything. 
 And I ought to say, first, that he is a thorough gen 
 tleman ; next, that if, after reading this, you can ap 
 prove his honesty, can believe in him and care for him, 
 nothing would delight me more. Beyond this I do 
 not seek to influence your decision. You are account 
 able to yourself, to him, not to me. But, as you will 
 see, he expects no answer, at least, none now." 
 
 She flashed upon him a look of surprise, then looked 
 away again, back at the letter. 
 
 "No answer!" she repeated. 
 
 " None I mean in words. He is going to the Bar- 
 245 
 
The Courage of Conviction 
 
 ringtons to-night; he will be waiting for you. And 
 he asks you, as you will see, to wear a rose in your 
 hair should there be any hope for him. That is all." 
 
 The letter dropped into her lap. She leaned back 
 in her chair, with hands tightly clasped, and stared 
 at the fire during a few seconds of silence, which to 
 the doctor seemed interminable. The pause was 
 broken by the sound of footsteps in the hall. He 
 crossed to the door, and opened it an inch or two, 
 when the maid knocked. A patient, as it appeared, 
 demanded advice at this awkward moment, and, in a 
 whispered word, was consigned to the inner room. 
 
 He shut the door gently, and, coming back, looked 
 down at her. 
 
 " I must go," he said. " But I cannot help you 
 further. No one can do that. You must decide this 
 question yourself. Read and consider it carefully. 
 I ask no more, but shall abide by your judgment, 
 whichever way it goes." 
 
 She put her arms around his neck and kissed him, 
 but did not speak; nor did she rise. At the office-door 
 he looked back at her. She had taken up the letter, 
 and was turning it over and over in her hands. 
 
 The great night had come, and the world seemed 
 well aware of it. The Barrington house glowed with 
 light and color, while the guests slowly gathered in 
 small groups about the stately rooms as the appointed 
 
 246 
 
Under the Rose 
 
 hour drew near. Paul Hemming, arriving early, as 
 sured himself in one rapid glance that Miss Brinkley 
 was not there before him. He hovered restlessly back 
 and forth, greeting his friends with a hurried word ; 
 then moving on, determined to avoid entanglements, 
 committed to the outskirts, at least for a time. As 
 the throng increased, making his line of action pro 
 portionately easier to follow, his self-engrossment 
 passed unnoticed. Someone handed him a pro 
 gramme ; and, withdrawing into a corner to study it, 
 he observed with surprise and pleasure that the first 
 group of songs was entirely made up from the work 
 of Gordon Wise. In a certain sense this might be 
 called his night, then; and, even through his own 
 anxiety, Hemming could realize perfectly all that the 
 compliment must mean to the struggling composer, 
 and rejoice at it. Presently the music-room doors 
 were thrown open, and he caught a glimpse of the 
 satisfaction in Gordon s face as the crowd swept along. 
 There, too, was Gordon s wife, paler, thinner than 
 of old, but, clearly, proud and happy. At that moment 
 she turned Hemming s way, met his look across the in 
 tervening distance, bowed and smiled, then went on 
 out of sight to the place reserved for her. The large 
 room filled up, leaving the outer one empty, except 
 for a few men the usual rear-gard of stragglers 
 in the doorway, where Hemming might now have 
 become conspicuous had there been anyone disposed 
 
 247 
 
The Courage of Conviction 
 
 to heed his frequent changes of position, his wander 
 ing lapses toward the staircase up which she must 
 pass if she were coming at all. There was a stir 
 within; a silence. Then the opening quartette began. 
 He did not hear it ; he only knew that there had been 
 music by the storm of applause when it had ended. 
 Another stir followed ; louder and louder applause, al 
 most a shout of welcome, and, looking in, he saw the 
 great singer in her place. " Mein Lieb, wir sollen 
 Beide elend sein." Gordon s song, of course. Absit 
 omen! Why need she have begun with that? 
 
 The song went on until Hemming could not bear it. 
 He stole away across the vacant room, out into the 
 staircase-hall, where he was still happily, mercifully 
 alone. Only the music followed him, with its haunt 
 ing, sad refrain. " My love, we two live evermore 
 forlorn." He leaned upon the stair-rail, prepared for 
 flight. He could go now, and none would be the 
 wiser. Why should he wait a moment longer? She 
 did not intend to meet him, evidently. He had her 
 answer. She was not coming, after all! 
 
 He looked down over the wide sweep of staircase, 
 softly carpeted, hung with splendid tapestries. And, 
 suddenly, noiselessly, came gliding up into the light 
 one slender figure. She wore white, trailing behind 
 her in graceful, silken folds, and in her hair a rose! 
 
 248 
 
XIX 
 
 POSTSCRIPTUM 
 
 " I CHOUGH the end of August drew near and the 
 * autumnal rains had already set in fiercely, turn 
 ing the ebb-tide of travel definitely southward, there 
 was unwonted stir in the inn of the Leon Bianco, under 
 San Gimignano s towers. For the friendly pittore 
 artista, who, four years ago, had remained there so 
 long upon terms of familiar intercourse which aroused 
 keen interest in his fortunes, had come again, bringing 
 his bride with him. Immediately after their marriage 
 in the month of June Mr. and Mrs. Hemming went 
 abroad for a prolonged honeymoon, to pass some 
 weeks in the Tyrol; thence, coming down over the 
 Italian border, to linger for a while in Venice; then, 
 crossing the Lombard plain, to wander on through 
 certain Tuscan by-ways, which Suzette did not know, 
 which Paul longed to show her. So they had travelled 
 far, by easy stages, now in the railway, now upon the 
 post-road; had seen the frieze of Pistoia, and Cortona s 
 muse; had strolled through the chestnut wood at the 
 Baths of Lucca, along its foamy torrent; or up the 
 endless slopes, where sunlit fountains splash, in laugh 
 ing Arezzo. Finally, from the busy streets of Siena 
 
 249 
 
The Courage of Conviction 
 
 and the martial music of its garrison, they had driven 
 miles away between the vine-garlands to this quiet hill 
 top whose thirteen campanili, at the first distant aspect, 
 had been compared by Suzette to so many long 
 needles stuck irregularly in a green cushion. The day, 
 following a storm, was unexpectedly fine. And here 
 were the walls, the bastions, the rough, tortuous 
 streets still unspoiled, unchanged, even in the smallest 
 degree, looking just as Hemming had left them. 
 Raffaella, the daughter of the house, recognizing him 
 instantly, had declared that he, too, was unchanged. 
 Nay, he was changed very much, very much for the 
 better, as he had responded, presenting to her his wife. 
 Then, growing suddenly serious, she had congratulated 
 him formally, and rushed on before him to apprise the 
 household. 
 
 Here was the huge, bare, lofty sola da pranzo, where 
 his drawing of Raffaella, framed and glazed, hung in 
 the place of honor. Suzette, proceeding to examine it 
 minutely, discovered that the model had changed, if 
 not the painter; there were new lines in her face; she 
 had grown old already, as Italian maidens will. They 
 wondered if she had been married to her lover the 
 soldier of whom Paul had spoken. While she set the 
 table Hemming inquired for him. 
 
 " E morto, Signore," she said, simply. 
 
 "Dead?" 
 
 " Yes, Signore; long ago." 
 250 
 
Postscriptum 
 
 "Ah! You have not married, then?" 
 
 " Oh, yes, Signore. Pasquale is my husband. Does 
 not the Signore recall Pasquale? He was maestro di 
 casa, and became my father s partner. The house is 
 ours, Signore. He is padrone, but now, unhappily, 
 from home, at Empoli, for a day or two. The din 
 ner is served, if the Signore pleases." 
 
 And while they dined, chiefly on macaroni, over a 
 flask of Chianti, Hemming thought of the song, the 
 clinking sword : " La ci darem la mano ! " Even in 
 San Gimignano these years had wrought their changes. 
 
 When their frugal meal was ended he suggested to 
 his wife a short stroll through a certain ruined court 
 leading to an angle of the bastions, where he had often 
 watched the sunset. Thither they went, accordingly; 
 the weeds were taller, perhaps, but the steps, built for 
 eternity, stood firm, unshaken. At the top Suzette 
 clasped her hands in silent wonder; it was far more 
 beautiful than she had dreamed. Her eyes were all for 
 the wide, incomparable landscape. But he, after one 
 comprehensive glance at it, scrutinized the stones on 
 which they leaned. There, at last, with some difficulty, 
 he deciphered the worn inscription, that in his day had 
 been newly cut. Rafraella s name, the soldier s, and 
 underneath: 
 
 SIAMO AMOR 
 
 The last letters were illegible. 
 
 251 
 
The Courage of Conviction 
 
 His wife, guided by his look, saw the storm-beaten 
 scratches on the parapet, and, remembering the story, 
 understood them. 
 
 " Siamo amorosi," she murmured. " The words are 
 sweet, even without the sense. But Martino is dead 
 and gone, poor fellow! beyond the sunset. And 
 Raffaella is padrona di casa now." 
 
 " Siamo amorosi! " She repeated the words as they 
 turned back, half to Paul, half to herself, applying the 
 happy phrase to their own happiness, until the first sad 
 suggestion of it melted away and was gone. They 
 came down by a new path, which brought them to a 
 corner of the square, near the cathedral. There was 
 still some light, and, as the church-door stood open, 
 Suzette proposed to get, then and there, her first im 
 pression of the wondrous Ghirlandaio. 
 
 " So late? " Paul objected. 
 
 "Just for a moment!" she urged. "We will go 
 straight there, and look at nothing else. I cannot 
 wait till morning." 
 
 He led the way, his old familiar one, up the southern 
 aisle to its last side-chapel, the chapel of Santa Fina. 
 There she was still fair, unfaded, never to fade, it 
 may be hoped, lovelier than ever in her perpetual re 
 pose. They stood before the fresco with scarce a word 
 until the waning light grew dim. Meanwhile Hem 
 ming, who had not prepared his wife for the strange re 
 semblance in the face to a living one which they both 
 
 252 
 
Postscriptum 
 
 knew, watched her curiously to see if she would dis 
 cover it, and in a moment was sure that she had done 
 so. How, indeed, could she have helped discovering 
 it? Some condition of light at this hour seemed to 
 make its effect peculiarly vivid and startling. 
 
 "You saw the likeness!" he said, when they had 
 passed out into the gathering dusk. 
 
 " Yes, of course. How strong it is! You never told 
 me." 
 
 " I wanted to see if the look were really as strong 
 as I had imagined. If, with no hint from me, you 
 would find it, too." 
 
 They hurried on, for the night chill was upon them. 
 She did not speak again on the way down, but shivered 
 a little with the cold. And he, absorbed in thought, 
 remembered, as often before, that this was almost the 
 first word of Nina Wise which, since their engagement, 
 had passed between them. Even now her name had 
 not been mentioned. Many times, approaching the sub 
 ject cautiously, he had prepared to mention it, to 
 supplement the words of his letter with other and fuller 
 spoken words. And always she had changed the sub 
 ject, reminding him, gently and considerately, that 
 there was no need to discuss it further, that the words 
 upon his lips were better left unspoken. He was ready 
 now to begin them again. But he knew in advance 
 her answer. He longed to tell her how deeply he 
 was touched by this oft-repeated gentleness and con- 
 
 253 
 
The Courage of Conviction 
 
 sideration. And she would not permit it. He could 
 only tell her how deeply and how truly he loved her. 
 She would permit that a thousand and a thousand 
 times. 
 
 A bright fire crackled on the hearth of the big 
 room. While they warmed their hands at it she was 
 still silent; still, as he began to fear, disturbed by some 
 intrusive thought. He could guess what it was, but 
 hesitated to betray his knowledge. 
 
 "Are you tired?" he asked, more to break the 
 silence than from that particular solicitude. 
 
 " Oh, no! " she said, lightly, turning her face toward 
 him but away from the fire, so that it was left in 
 shadow. " I am going in to unpack my trunk. Will 
 you give me the key, please? " 
 
 He fumbled in his pocket for the ring to which the 
 keys were attached, drew hers up, and handed it to 
 her. "You are sure you are not tired?" 
 
 "Perfectly!" she assured him, with a smile, and 
 passed out into the chamber, where presently, it 
 seemed that Raffaella joined her. He heard laughter 
 and their voices. 
 
 He drew a low chair to the hearthstone, and, sitting 
 down, stretched out toward the flames. How strange 
 it was to be here again here, in this old palace, fallen 
 into decay, degraded to an inn, haunted by its troops 
 of memories, his own among them! There was the 
 place where he had received his letters., where he had 
 
 254 
 
Postscriptum 
 
 found himself, as he expressed it, where he had 
 brooded desperately, alone! And now he found him 
 self again, a being of another world, light of heart, 
 unrecognizable, happy in his wife so happy! If only 
 this thin line of shadow would not creep in between 
 them! He wondered if the shadow were all of his own 
 imagining, if that thought were not in her mind at all ; 
 or if, on the other hand, it were there continually, 
 always ready to assert itself at the first chance re 
 minder, clouding, at a breath, the clearest sunshine. 
 It could not be. He would not have it so. They 
 ought to strive for an understanding above and beyond 
 it. He must speak out, to justify himself completely, 
 once for all, saying thus, or thus. 
 
 He sank lower in the chair, and leaned his cheek 
 upon his hand, staring at the blaze, rehearsing his part 
 meanwhile so lost in it that he failed to hear a step 
 behind him, and was unaware of his wife s presence 
 until he felt her touch upon his shoulder. 
 
 She knelt upon the hearth beside him, and took his 
 hand, without looking up. 
 
 " Paul! " she began, in a low voice. " I have some 
 thing to tell you something that I meant, before this, 
 to let you know. And now I cannot delay it longer." 
 
 "Ah!" he sighed, pressing her hand gently. "So 
 much the better ! I understand, I know." 
 
 "No!" she continued; "it is about this, this let 
 ter." 
 
 255 
 
The Courage of Conviction 
 
 She moved the other hand, tightly clasped, toward 
 the light, and he saw at once that the letter was his 
 own. 
 
 " Yes," he sighed again. " I know." 
 
 "No, Paul," she insisted. "See!" 
 
 She turned the letter. Then, looking down at it, he 
 saw the seal unbroken. 
 
 "What!" he cried, "you never read that letter, 
 then?" 
 
 " I could not bear to read it," she explained, in a 
 troubled whisper. " I knew a part, the essential part, 
 I am sure, of what it contains. There was no need, 
 then, of my knowing more; I had no desire to know. 
 I thought a time might come when I should be better 
 able, more willing, to learn details; when, perhaps, I 
 might change my mind so far, even, as to wish to learn 
 them. So I put away the letter, kept it, brought it 
 with me. And now 
 
 " And now the time has come." 
 
 "Now my mind is made up; nothing will ever 
 change it. You will not blame me, dearest, if 
 
 Then, with a quick gesture, she threw his mes 
 sage unread, unopened, undelivered deep into the 
 coals. 
 
 Hemming made a movement to spring forward for 
 it, but she held him fast. 
 
 " You will never speak to me again of it, dearest, 
 will you? " 
 
 256 
 
Postscriptum 
 
 He dropped back. Then, after a moment, he stirred, 
 bent low, and kissed her. 
 
 " Did you think," she whispered, tenderly, " that I 
 would not trust the man who was to be my husband? 
 
 THE END. 
 
 257 
 
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