OF CALIF. LIBRARY, LOS AHGELES
 
 In Love's Domains * * * * 
 
 A Trilogy T?********** 
 
 * * * * by Marah Ellis Ryan 
 
 Chicago and New York * * * 
 Rand, McNally & Company
 
 Copyright, 1889, by Rand, McNally & Co., Chicago.
 
 TO 
 
 MY FRIENDS, 
 
 IN GRATEFUL REMEMBRANCE 
 OP 
 
 A FRIENDSHIP. 
 
 2132527
 
 All thoughts, all passions, all delights, 
 With all that shakes this mortal frame, 
 
 Are but the ministers of Love, 
 And feed bis sacred flame. 
 
 COLERIDGE.
 
 CONTENTS. 
 
 PAGB 
 
 PROLOGUE 7 
 
 THE POET'S STORY' ' The Lady of the Garden " 19 
 
 THE PKOFESSOR'S STORY "ARomaunt" 49 
 
 THE BOHEMIAN'S STORY "Galeed" 90 
 
 EPILOGUE... . 813 
 
 (8)
 
 PROLOGUE. 
 
 "A drop of dew may drag a deluge down!" 
 It was Meredith's Clytemnestra who said that, 
 was it not? A wise woman, who all her life sought 
 out the sunny places, and let the deluges fall on 
 other heads. 
 
 And it was the Professor who drew down the 
 deluge of ink for himself, his young friend the 
 Poet, and his old friend the Bohemian, that 
 evening, when he twisted his wig awry in an 
 impatient manner and growled: 
 
 "No chance of Harvey dropping in to-night. 
 He's too much infatuated with that best girl of 
 his; vowed yesterday he'd marry her or commit 
 suicide before New Year's. He's a fool." 
 
 The two younger men glanced at each other in 
 an amused way. The irascibility of their hon- 
 ored chum was seldom annoying to either, and 
 the elder of the two reached for a second bunch 
 of grapes as he asked: "Because he is in love, or 
 because he wants to marry, which?" 
 
 "Both. He has the making of a clever man in 
 
 (7)
 
 8 IN LOVE'S DOMAINS. 
 
 him if he don't tie himself down to humoring one 
 woman's whims and complicated emotions." 
 
 "I am afraid you are growing immoral, Pro- 
 fessor,'' retorted the Bohemian, " why that objec- 
 tion to the sex singular? You wouldn' t have him 
 humor the emotions of a harem, would you? 
 Remember, he is a good boy." 
 
 "Why should they not marry if they love?" 
 asked the third party at the dinner table, a 
 warm-eyed fellow of twenty-four. A young poet 
 dreaming over his first book of verse. A young 
 actor as well, he was, who had played in the 
 country places, and carried from them a breath of 
 wholesome intensity for his stage work; a breath 
 of freshness and purity for his poems that all 
 the din and life of the streets could not scatter. 
 "Why not, if he loves her?" he repeated. 
 
 "All the more reason, since the deeper his 
 delusion the greater shock its awakening will 
 be." 
 
 "Then you think there is always a process of 
 disillusion to go through? A fall from ideals to 
 mourn over in the married state?" asked the 
 Bohemian. 
 
 " Yes. The infatuation of love admits no defi- 
 ciencies, therefore the dishonesty of its founda- 
 tion makes it always a shaky affair. Take from 
 love its glamour, strip it of its illusions, have it 
 unsheltered by all that mistiness of the imagina- 
 tion, and it melts into mere animal magnetism as 
 surely as that the hardest of ice and the dryest of 
 dust make mud. It' s kittle-kattle that same love;
 
 PROLOGUE. 9 
 
 leave it alone;" and lie swallowed his sherry at a 
 gulp, as if he had swallowed the subject and 
 disposed of it. 
 
 "Well, Professor," answered the Poet, "you 
 must agree that for a misty, intangible illusion, 
 it has been the inspiration of more great work, 
 more noble deeds, than any other one passion or 
 emotion." 
 
 "Yes, and the heroes of those deeds would ten 
 years later look back on that phase of their exist- 
 ence and think, 'what a jackass I was to be so 
 impressionable.' Oh! affection between the sexes 
 and marriage rites are good things, the latter pro- 
 tects society, you know. I once contemplated it 
 myself. Oh, yes, I've been there. But it's the 
 mushiness of the twaddle about the divinity of 
 love that I object to. It won't wash. A doctor is 
 much like a priest in his knowledge of the domes- 
 tic lives of others, and I tell you we manage to 
 see the clay feet under many a cloak of ideality." 
 
 "What do you think of it, Alan?" asked the 
 younger man. ' ' Do you believe in the continued 
 existence of its happiness in a spiritual sense, or 
 are you too much of the earth earthy, for that 
 view of the question?" 
 
 "Ami?" he half questioned himself , with an 
 introspective look in the blue eyes that came so 
 near being black. "Am I of the earth earthy? 
 Not too much so to believe in love's continued 
 existence as the highest help a soul can have to 
 earthly happiness, if it is firmly founded on 
 morality's laws."
 
 10 IN LOVE'S DOMAINS. 
 
 " Morality!" grunted the Professor. "If love 
 is the divine thing you imagine, it should be 
 affected by nothing of social forms. And, by the 
 way, Alan, whence comes your late knowledge 
 of the key to happiness through morality ?" 
 
 " By the help of one of the sex of my mother?" 
 he answered, quietly. And the tone some way 
 stilled any reply from the others; there was in it 
 a hint of something in the Bohemian's nature that 
 suggested an unexplored country one his club 
 friends had not suspected. The silence after his 
 speech had grown a little marked, a trifle awk- 
 ward, and, noticing it, he continued in lighter 
 vein: "But don't you think you are a bit hard 
 on a fellow with your insinuations as to late 
 morality? I haven't been such a very black 
 sheep." 
 
 "Perhaps not," said the Professor, doubtfully, 
 "but well, my boy, they tell me you've been 
 very human." 
 
 "Why not? Our humanity is our greatest 
 strength. People who are virtuous simply through 
 the weakness of their human passions deserve no 
 credit." 
 
 " Spoken like a nineteenth century disciple of 
 Sense!" said a voice at the portieres, and Harvey, 
 the deserter, entered in evening dress, a Cape 
 jasmine in his buttonhole helping to make him 
 altogether lovely with fragrance. The Professor 
 noticed these details grumpily and suspiciously. 
 Harvey was thirty-five, a clever business man, one 
 of a publishing firm, and his character was weak-
 
 PROLOGUE. 11 
 
 ened in the old bachelor's eyes by his tendency to 
 love affairs. 
 
 "Sense seems scarcely the word after Alan's 
 first statement," demurred the Poet, taking up 
 the cudgels for his friend. "At least, not in 
 the general acceptance of the term not as it 
 approaches the sensual. The sensuous? Yes, all 
 poetry, in life or verse, the outgrowth of love and 
 of religion, is full of the sensuous; and human 
 love, after all, must be but the religion of the 
 heart." 
 
 "It is a religion, then, in which you pin your 
 faith to a transitory idol," answered the Professor; 
 " one you can set up to worship through like any 
 South Sea Islander, and carve out a new one when 
 association shows you how much too big its ears 
 or its nose may be for your idea of divine beauty. 
 The divinity of the emotion you extol can only be 
 kept alive through the filter of the senses. The 
 highest of your transports can not rise above 
 the earthiness in you. I tell you those idealistic 
 views of yours have no practical foundation. We 
 don't get our wings until the next world." 
 
 "A forcible argument," murmured Harvey, in 
 evident admiration. "I am sorry I can not spend 
 the evening with you. Your subject is a fascinating 
 one to my susceptible nature but duties! I am 
 a martyr to duty. So you" to the Poet " look 
 on it as a religion, do you? Well, you are but 
 twenty-four, and not long away from the fresh- 
 ness of your northern hills; and you" to the 
 Professor " look on it as an evanescent emotion
 
 12 IN LOVERS DOMAINS. 
 
 that takes coloring entirely from the senses a 
 thing that does not endure. Well, you have been 
 buried in anatomical researches for years shut 
 up in a country college with only a season's 
 breathing space when you come to see how we 
 sinners live so, you may be excused your 
 cynicism, as love is likely to fight shy of your 
 dissecting knife; and you" turning to the 
 Bohemian "you have known love closely 
 enough to create one of the most lovable of 
 creatures in that last play of yours. It is an 
 undeniable success. But what are your views of 
 it as relating to the continued existence of happi- 
 ness through it in human lives?" 
 
 " I think it capable of producing all that is most 
 high, most divine, in a soul sense. It has in it all 
 possibilities of heaven, and of hell, and, as I said 
 before, to my mind the heaven of it can be endless 
 only through temperance and morality." 
 
 "You mean when two people love each other?" 
 
 " Yes; a love that is unrequited may exalt to 
 high work in an ideal sense, if the object is mor- 
 ally and mentally high as your ideals. But it 
 gives no such perfection as the mutual rendering 
 up of lives to each other." 
 
 "Come down from the clouds, Alan," growled 
 the Professor; " what has driven the pair of you 
 up there in such beastly weather? Listen to that 
 rain pouring down, Harvey. You're not such a 
 fool as to take a girl out to the theatre to-night?" 
 
 "I certainly am," answered Harvey, unruffled 
 by the gruff ness; " you see, I might get a chance
 
 PROLOGUE. 13 
 
 to carry her from the door to the carriage. It 
 would never do to have her feet wet. No," he 
 said, ruminatingly, "I could not risk missing so 
 much of heaven;" and then he added, more 
 briskly: 
 
 ( 'Look here, I believe I have a sort of genius 
 for laying plans for other people's work. Those 
 ideas of yours have promoted one in my head. 
 Our firm want something original in short 
 sketches for our holiday issue. Now, you are all 
 writers; all in different directions; suppose you 
 each, with your ideas of this question, write me a 
 love story to prove your theories. If they are 
 acceptable, I will have them issued in one volume 
 and pay you a good rate for the work. What do 
 you say?" 
 
 " It would be a novel idea," said the Bohemian, 
 slowly; "but I have not done anything in that 
 line for a long time, and am not sure I am equal 
 to fiction." 
 
 "Then write facts," said the Professor, sarcas- 
 tically; "surely some of your experiences will 
 furnish you material, and you have much more 
 business than I in love's domains." 
 
 "In Love's Domains," echoed the Poet, "there 
 is a title ready-made for you, Mr. Harvey." 
 
 "You are right," the publisher answered; 
 * ' that' s a good idea and suggestive. Oh, you have 
 something in that head of yours besides rhymes, 
 I shall expect something creditable from you." 
 
 "Expect nothing striking," he answered, "I 
 am equal only to quietly-toned work,"
 
 14 IN LOVE'3 DOMAINS. 
 
 "No, he don't let his feet touch earth often 
 enough to reach the dramatic in construction," 
 this from the Professor. 
 
 "Give him ten years more and he will," 
 answered Harvey; "well what do you say, Alan, 
 will you try it?" 
 
 "Yes, I will," said the Bohemian, "that is, I 
 will make no promises as to giving it to you for 
 the public. I am not sure enough of myself. 
 But I will attempt a story with that idea in 
 view." 
 
 " All right, then, it' s settled. Get them written 
 soon as you can. I must go now, it is getting 
 late. Professor, you haven't said a word, but I 
 know you'll do it, and I should not wonder if you 
 wrote the spooniest story of the three." 
 
 "I'll write you a treatise on the anatomical 
 construction of the form divine, and give it to you 
 as a sinker to hold down my ethereal compan- 
 ions," growled the Professor, incited anew into 
 grumpiness by the sight of Harvey before a pier- 
 glass, straightening his tie, giving his mustache a 
 final twirl, and admiring himself generally before 
 sallying forth to conquest. " Oh no, you won't," 
 he said, amiably, turning his back on them, and 
 smiling at them in the mirror, " you will burnish 
 up your reminiscences and give us something 
 thrilling. By the way, Professor," picking up 
 his hat and coat, "how long has it been since 
 you kissed a pair of red lips? I imagine they 
 would have a wonderful effect on your imagina- 
 tion for the subject. Don't look so horrified. I
 
 PROLOGUE. 15 
 
 would prescribe no medicine for you that I would 
 not cheerfully take myself. Good night, gentle- 
 men. I'll be in to see you to-morrow, Alan," 
 and, smiling at the Professor's half -amused, half- 
 frowning face, he sauntered out of the club-rooms 
 and down to the carriage awaiting himself and the 
 fair freight with whom he was to share the delights 
 of the theatre. 
 
 "Froth! froth!" ejaculated the Professor, "I 
 have known that fellow ever since he left the 
 nursery. He has proven successful in business, 
 but I'm blessed if it is not the only way one has 
 of knowing whether that froth means cream or 
 scum.' 
 
 That night the mind of each was filled with the 
 germ of a story that was to be. The Poet, alone 
 in his room, listening to the soft fall of the rain in 
 the autumn night, half fancied it the rustle of 
 leaves whispering of the sadness of the woods left 
 naked, and among the visionary network of bare 
 boughs nipped by the frost there arose a woman's 
 face, as he had seen it once an old face, brown 
 and withered as dead leaves of autumn, with a 
 quaint pathos of eye and speech that had haunted 
 him through many days. And when he slept that 
 night, he had decided to give to the world her 
 love story. 
 
 The Professor shuffled away to his room early, 
 drew the curtains close, lit every gas-jet, poked 
 the fire in the open grate until it got too sulky to 
 burn for him, and, with his slippers on, he leaned 
 back luxuriously to rest, and then
 
 16 IN LOVE'S DOMAINS. 
 
 "A love story," he said, contemptuously, "I 
 never knew but one, and I doubt if I have 
 much imagination. Let me see, let me see. 
 What was that idea I had coming up the stairs? 
 Yes, yes, to be sure; they must be in that old 
 box." 
 
 And a little later he was down on his knees 
 beside a trunk, out of which he lifted things in 
 orderly fashion until he found an old tin box con- 
 taining some old law papers, old receipts for 
 money paid, the deeds to some property, and 
 finally, an old daguerreotype case, out of which 
 something dropped as he opened it. 
 
 "Uh-hm! " he grunted, getting stiffly up from 
 his knees, and studying the face under the gas- 
 light. "That's it; that's Lettie. Pretty girl she 
 was prettier than the most of them. I wonder 
 what that was that dropped? Don't think I've 
 looked at that picture for twenty years." 
 
 He hunted around in the box and found the 
 thing that had dropped. It was a bunch of im- 
 mortelles, almost unrecognizable from age. They 
 were pressed flat, and tied with a narrow pink 
 ribbon with a fancy edge that had been apple 
 green, but was now almost gray. 
 
 "Lord bless me! Lord bless my soul! I'd for- 
 gotten all about them. Well, well, how one's 
 memory does go! But this brings much of it 
 back yes, considerable. How musty they do 
 smell! And the moths have got at the velvet 
 of that case a pretty case it was, too. Bah! I 
 don't like the smell of them, Tobacco is a better
 
 PROLOGUE. 17 
 
 companion." And lie pushed them aside and lit 
 a pipe. 
 
 "Ah! that's better!" with a long sigh of 
 enjoyment. Then he looked at the musty old 
 mementoes and smiled grimly, sent a great puff 
 of smoke toward them, and laughed a little sar- 
 castically as they were almost hidden in the 
 cloud. 
 
 So he sat, and grimaced, and smoked, and 
 dreamed, until drowsiness dropped around him. 
 The pipe went out, the fire burned low, and at 
 last he awoke with a start, shuffled out of his 
 clothes and into bed, forgetful of the love tokens 
 on the table at his elbow. 
 
 But in the room of the man called Alan the 
 light burned long, though not very brightly, that 
 night, and a book of his own, published two years 
 before, was opened and looked at long and 
 thoughtfully a volume beautifully illustrated, 
 that he kept always near him. All through it 
 were passages marked in a hand that was likely 
 a woman's; and on the blank leaf was a pen 
 sketch, as delicately done as an etching a sketch 
 at sight of which his eyes grew misty and his face 
 dropped low and lower, until his lips touched a 
 name written in the corner. The sketch was of a 
 child's grave, white with anemones, on which a 
 ray of moonlight fell as it struggled through the 
 branches above. Two figures were dimly outlined 
 in the dusky background, each moving away from 
 the grave and from each other. Not their faces, 
 
 only their forms could be seen those of a man 
 2
 
 18 IN LOVE'S DOMAINS. 
 
 and a woman. Long he looked, and then dropped 
 on his knees at the bedside, the book making a 
 pillow for his head open as it was at the child's 
 grave. 
 And thus the night closed in for him.
 
 THE IADT OF THE GARDEN. 
 
 THE POET'S STORY. 
 
 Isae better wifie there lived on the lea 
 
 Than bonnie sweet Bessie, the maid o' Dundee." 
 
 Only a Scotch tongue could linger so lovingly 
 over the words of the quaint old song, and the 
 stalwart singer, striding back and forth with 
 hands deep in pockets, softened his tones to a 
 caress as they breathed of Bonnie Bessie. 
 
 Not altogether a scene to inspire a singer was 
 that railroad junction, where a party was congre- 
 gated waiting for the next train not a station- 
 house, or even a telegraph office only two rail- 
 roads crossing, and a pile of trunks with labels of 
 " Hotel" and " Theatre" painted on the ends of 
 them. 
 
 "Three hours to wait," grumbled the melan- 
 choly-looking comedian of the party as he 
 watched the "boys" arranging some trunks to 
 make seats for the ladies; " three hours to wait, 
 and only an hour's ride to Louisville, no depot, 
 and the air chilly after that frost; every one is 
 likely to catch cold and be hoarse as a fog-horn 
 to-night. All the fault of the management." 
 
 "Nonsense!" broke in the decided tones of a 
 
 (10)
 
 20 IN LOVE'S DOMAINS. 
 
 young lady in a gray ulster and a Tarn o' Shanter 
 traveling cap. "The management can't change 
 the schedules or regulate the weather, and it was 
 worth losing three hours of sleep this morning 
 just to see the sun rise over those wild Kentucky 
 hills. Now quit grumbling and take that child 
 from your wife; she looks tired out. Why, man, 
 five years ago you would not have let her bear 
 the burden of a traveling satchel, no matter how 
 small, and now you let that cherubic cub maul 
 the life half out of her; go along, now!" and 
 with a little push she started him toward the 
 cherub from the mouth of which there issued 
 music not at all celestial. 
 
 "You will get yourself into trouble some day 
 with that authoritative manner of yours, my 
 lady," remarked the singer, who had stopped 
 beside her, and was looking down smilingly into 
 the independent face. 
 
 "Oh, yes!" and the head crowned by the Tarn 
 o' Shanter was raised a trifle higher. " I know 
 we jar on your delicate sensibilities often, we 
 American women." 
 
 " Not at all. I find many of you charming.' 
 
 " Many of us!" she flashed back. "That 
 sounds dubious. Well, there is safety in num- 
 bers. But I doubt if the many have succeeded 
 in winning you from the ideal Scotch lassie of 
 your Highlands, or is there something more sub- 
 stantial than an ideal? Yes?" as a slight wave 
 of color crept up to his eyes under her glance 
 "come, tell me of her. Is she a bonnie lassie?"
 
 THE LADY OF THE GARDEN. 21 
 
 "She is to me," he answered, sending little 
 rings of smoke from a cigar up into the chill 
 October air. There was no smile in the keen blue 
 eyes as they gazed over her head into the distant 
 haze of the Indian summer. 
 
 "So!" and she laid her hand on his arm for an 
 instant and then dropped it, laughing a little. 
 " So it is serious, this affair of the heart. Women 
 are always interested in love stories; tell me, what 
 is she like, this bonnie lassie of yours!" 
 
 " An honest, earnest-hearted girl, that is all." 
 
 " And not at all an aggressive personage like 
 our decided Americans not at all like us?" 
 
 "Not at all like you," he said, half jestingly, 
 as they walked slowly down the track, away from 
 the rest of the party. 
 
 " Of course not; that goes without saying." 
 
 "Now, now, don't be sarcastic, for I can't quar- 
 rel with you when you wear that Scotch cap; so 
 be good to-day." 
 
 "Pale-blooded, meek, and prayerful," she 
 quoted laughingly, "would that bring me nearer 
 the level of your Scottish maids? I fear not; 
 they live a different life from ours; they are cared 
 for carefully in the homes of their fathers with 
 all the associations of sturdy, clean-limbed vir- 
 tues; with all the legends of chivalry and purity 
 as a background for the picture of their own 
 lives, the picture that is tinged always with 
 the warm glow of the ingle nook. We have not 
 the same homes in America. We are too new, 
 too much of a migratory class; we consider our-
 
 22 IN LOVE'S DOMAINS. 
 
 selves a full century ahead of the quiet lives of 
 your women, and yet I do not wonder if we lose 
 by comparison in the eyes of a man who would 
 want his wife akin to what his mother had been." 
 
 They walked on in silence for a little way and 
 then he said: 
 
 "Don't you think you are inclined to be severe 
 to-day? I have seen many happy home circles in 
 your country, though they may lack the flavor of 
 traditional surroundings. But home is where the 
 heart is, always." 
 
 "But one's heart is not always in the same 
 place," she said, with a little touch of daring. 
 "Many of them change their address without 
 warning and often leave their rent unpaid." 
 
 She stopped by the side of the country road 
 they had reached, and, gathering some scarlet 
 maple-leaves, pinned them to her gray coat, where 
 they glowed like a live coal on a bed of dead 
 ashes, while he stood aside and watched her a lit- 
 tle curiously before he spoke. 
 
 "Why will you be so cynical? " he inquired at 
 last. " You do not believe there is so little con- 
 stancy in the world. It is bad enough to hear 
 men express themselves so, but it jars on one to 
 hear it from the lips of a woman, and a young 
 woman." 
 
 " Young! " she repeated a little bitterly, "don't 
 you think there are some people born old? I 
 can scarcely remember the time when I did not 
 feel so." 
 
 "Come, come, don't imagine yourself a female
 
 THE LADY OF THE GAKDEN. 23 
 
 Timon. Our century is fond of such fancies, but 
 they have their foundation in morbid imagina- 
 tions, and are unhealthy, and I will wager that 
 close under the key of those non-committal lips of 
 yours, there is some idyl that all your cynicism 
 can not kill something that gives the denial to 
 your assertion of the ingrained inconstancy of 
 humanity." 
 
 She looked up inquiringly. "You mean some 
 personal affair a love story?" 
 
 " Something of that sort, yes." 
 
 Her laugh broke out clearly on the still air as 
 she stopped, thrusting her hands deep into the 
 pockets of her coat, and facing him. 
 
 " Pardon my laughing," she begged, contritely, 
 with an amused look still in her eyes, "but you 
 seem determined that every one else must be 
 ridiculous that is, in love, because you happen 
 to be. An idyl of the past? lots of them, my 
 friend. My first love affair occurred when I was 
 about five. I remember still the object of my 
 affections. He had red hair, and a very much 
 freckled nose, but I thought him most charming, 
 especially his timidity, for he was mortally afraid 
 of me, and would squirm uneasily under my 
 glance, and dodge out of my way if he saw me 
 moving toward him." 
 
 " Unappreciative youngster! why was I not 
 there?" soliloquized her companion, throwing his 
 light overcoat cloak- wise across his shoulders, and 
 looking a deal more picturesque than with his 
 arms in the sleeves, as the tailor intended.
 
 24 IN LOVE'S DOMAINS. 
 
 "Because you were, no doubt, beginning a series 
 of the same lessons among your beloved Scottish 
 hills," answered the girl. "Well, that was my 
 first love affair, though not the last. I have been 
 in love with some one ever since, and very much 
 in earnest with several subjects whose names I 
 have forgotten." 
 
 "Pardon me, but I don't believe you, and I 
 don't want to believe you," he answered, decid- 
 edly. 
 
 "Because I belong to the same sex as your 
 heather-bell, your ideal of constancy? Why, my 
 friend, I am only preparing you for the letter that 
 will flit across the water some of these days, 
 telling you that some other laddie has won your 
 prize, and that she is 'woo'd and married and 
 a'.' 
 
 " Don't try to be so ill-natured," he said, good- 
 humoredly, "it is really not your forte, though 
 you have been trying yourself to-day. You know 
 if any one else should accuse your sex of incon- 
 stancy, you would be the first to take up the cud- 
 gels in defense." 
 
 "I might be swinging them from the dark 
 ages until eternity then," she retorted, "for the 
 writers of all time have sung the same song, and 
 is it not Parton who said, 'A woman's heart is 
 like the moon, it is always changing, but there is 
 always a man in it?' ' 
 
 " I cry, enough," he admitted, laughingly. "If 
 you begin to lanch quotations at me I give in 
 and beat a retreat back to the Junction."
 
 THE LADY OF THE GARDEN. 25 
 
 "No you don't," and she placed herself in the 
 center of the road as a barricade. "I refuse to 
 return to the grumbling back there, and you can't 
 be so ungallant as to leave me here alone. I will 
 promise to be good, to say no more to shake your 
 faith in the sex divine." 
 
 "On that condition we will take a walk," he 
 said, briskly, "so come along;" and forging ahead 
 they followed the road that curved around a low 
 hill back of which a few houses clustered socia- 
 bly, and from the windows of which there looked 
 questioning faces at the two pedestrians who were 
 so unlike any of their neighbors, he with the 
 assurance of the man of the world in his erect 
 carriage that bespoke a past military training in 
 far Aberdeen, she with the jauntiness of a New 
 York tailor in her gray cloth suit, and the inde- 
 pendence of a self-made woman in her level-look- 
 ing eyes, that placidly met those directed to her 
 and smiled them down serenely. 
 
 Occasionally she would glance quizzically at 
 her companion as he strode on in silence, with a 
 little wrinkle between the straight dark brows 
 that had a trick of growing straighter under 
 anger or perplexity. Which was it that changed 
 their lines now, she wondered; so she looked at 
 the strong young face with a half regret at trying 
 to upset his illusions. The spirit of perversity 
 had been strong in her, yet she would have felt 
 sorry, more than sorry, if her predictions had 
 come true; if his Scotch lassie had wavered in her 
 allegiance.
 
 26 IN LOVE'S DOMAINS. 
 
 "I should feel like shaking her if she did," 
 she thought viciously, for she was honestly fond 
 of the earnest-natured actor with whom she had 
 played week after week through the theatrical 
 season fond of him with a sort of gay camara- 
 derie that abolished conventionalities, that called 
 him "Aberdeen," ignoring entirely the name 
 given by his sponsors, that demolished with 
 her practical comments its idealism that made 
 itself manifest in the deep eyes and breadth of 
 brow, that often contradicted her own nature for 
 the sake of contradicting his. 
 
 Out past the village a little way an old road led 
 off to the left, skirting a belt of woods and lead- 
 ing up a ravine, while the main one kept straight 
 ahead, broad, level, and yellow. At its forks 
 they stopped, undecided which one to take. A 
 countryman driving a farm wagon loaded with 
 great red and yellow apples, met them there and 
 answered their greeting heartily. The eyes of the 
 girl looked hungrily at its tempting fruit. 
 
 "Ask him to sell us some," she said to her 
 companion, "this sharp air makes me perfectly 
 ravenous. If he refuses I know I shall commit 
 highway robbery." 
 
 " Sell yeh some? well, no, I reckon not, sir," he 
 said in answer to the query. "I ain't a sellin' 
 produce jest now. But if you an' yer lady'll jest 
 step to the cart an' help yehselves yer welcome to 
 all yeh can carry. They're jest in good condition 
 now; them yaller ones is Winchester pippins, 
 an' the others is red astrakhans, a staven good
 
 THE LADY OF THE GARDEN. 27 
 
 winter apple, sir. No 'casion foh thanks, a pleas- 
 ure, sir; yo mighty welcome, ma'am; that's all 
 right, sir." 
 
 And he drowned by his rough heartiness the 
 thanks of the two, and picked out about a peck of 
 the largest ones for the girl, which she was forced 
 laughingly to decline for want of means to carry 
 them. 
 
 " Strangers in these parts I reckon, sir," he 
 said, with the natural curiosity of country folk. 
 '"Travelers, eh? There's a good many through 
 here since the railroad's been built. Yes, sir, it's 
 a long wait for them cars a-tryen' to pass the time 
 a-walken round, I reckon?" 
 
 "Yes, we were trying to decide which road 
 would be most pleasant for a walk." 
 
 " Well, sir, I reckon ye'd better take this road 
 straight ahead, the best in this part o' the State, 
 sir. Takes heavy taxes to keep it in order, but 
 it's worth it, sir, it's worth it. They' ve jest put a 
 new bridge across the creek a mile back, that is 
 the neatest bit of building in the county, sir, 
 worth yo' while to see it. Yeh won't see nothen 
 by going up the old trail. It hain't been used 
 any o' late years; wild land all along it, sir. In 
 the whole five mile cut o' that hollow, I reckon 
 thar ain't a farm. A root- digger lives up in the 
 hills thar somewhares; half wild, I reckon they 
 be, sir, an' that's all I've eveh heard of a livin' in 
 that wild land." 
 
 "A root-digger?" 
 
 " Yes, ma'am; folks as digs gin-sang an' snake-
 
 28 IN LOVE'S DOMAINS. 
 
 root and sich. Some o' them make right smart at> 
 it. These hills is full o' gin-sang. The sto'es 
 hereabouts buys it and ships it East. Some is 
 sent clear to Chiney from this district. Curious 
 customers them diggers be, I reckon but not 
 dangerous," he added, hastily, as if to assure the 
 girl of safety in his county. " Oh, no, ma'am! no 
 harm in them. I b'lieve I've heerd that the man 
 was an exhorter long ago." 
 
 " An exhorter?" 
 
 " Yes'm, a sort o' preacher; that was afore there 
 was churches through here much, and folks 'ud 
 gather at some neighbor's, and some o' them 'ud 
 read the scripter to the rest. A wild place it 
 must a been afore my time, sir. I've only been in 
 the State four year come here from Tennessee, I 
 did. Sorry yeh ain't stoppin' over longer, er I'de 
 ask yeh out to my place; always glad to meet 
 travelen folks, we are. I live at the toll-gate, two 
 mile out; if yer ever through this district again, 
 I'll be glad to have yeh stop, sir. Pleased to 
 have met yeh. Good-day to you, ma'am. Have 
 some more apples? No? Then get up, Jerry. 
 Good-day, sir. Good-day." 
 
 The two stood munching apples in the middle 
 of "the finest road in the State, sir," and gazing 
 after the talkative countryman until he turned 
 into the village street. 
 
 " I would like to have gone home with him just 
 now," remarked the girl, "I couldn't eat half a 
 breakfast this morning, having to get up so early, 
 and he looked so remarkably well fed. Did you
 
 THE LADY OP THE GAKDEN. 29 
 
 observe it? In my mind's eye I can see that 
 man's table at the farm-house; hot biscuits and 
 honey, fried chicken and hominy um!" and 
 she closed her eyes to shut out the tantalizing 
 vision. 
 
 "Come, come," laughed her companion, "we 
 had better continue our walk or you may be 
 tempted to follow him. Which way shall we go? 
 Do you want to see the new bridge?' ' 
 
 "I don't believe I do," she answered, dubi- 
 ously, "that old road looks most inviting, and 
 the fact of being warned against it, makes it the 
 more desirable to a woman; let us try it, anyway; 
 I don't suppose the diggers will eat us." 
 
 They walked on over the old road that grew 
 shadier and more picturesque as it led up a ravine 
 where the maples were ablaze on either hill, where 
 the gurgle of a brook followed the road and 
 mingled its low tones with the clear chatter of 
 bird-voices that seemed singing a requiem to sum- 
 mer. Slim sycamores drooped white arms toward 
 them, gleaming spectre-like amidst the crimson 
 and yellow robes of their neighbors, looking like 
 so many imprisoned Daphnes, whose white limbs 
 would peep through the rough bark in which the 
 startled nymph had found retreat. Laurel was 
 the tree into which she merged herself, it is said, 
 but the laurel is so bitter, its weight on the white 
 brows of a woman has so often left deep bruises, 
 and heartsease seldom grows near it, and Daphne 
 was so fair, so soft, so sweet; surely she would 
 have fled to the arms of those white, graceful, low-
 
 80 IN LOVE'S DOMAINS. 
 
 murmuring sycamores. At any rate, I never see 
 them without thinking of her, never hear their 
 rustling without seeming to hear also her startled 
 heart-beats. 
 
 Clusters of the slim, white forms were passed by 
 the two, who were all alive to the soft, half- 
 saddened beauty of the autumn day. It was 
 decked in all its royal robes, but the faces of 
 royalty have so seldom the gladness of spring in 
 them, and over this day in its perfection of flaunt- 
 ing beauty, over all the bravado it affected in its 
 display of charms that would lead you to think 
 it yet strong with the strength of summer, over 
 the struggle of pride in the proud heart that had 
 slowly broken and spilled its life-blood over the 
 forests, even while it smiled bravely on over all 
 this passion and pride of autumn there was 
 dropping the thin, blue veil of the Indian summer; 
 slowly, silently, with the surety of fate, it was 
 closing in over all this glory. Saddened it was by 
 the weight of the message it had to bear, for how 
 could its soft voice convey any idea of the tor- 
 rents of tears that were to wash all bright tints 
 from the dauntless face of Nature? Of the low 
 moaning of the winds that would grow into shrieks 
 where the trees were strong in resistance? Of the 
 white shroud that would freeze the throbbing 
 pulse and send all the blood in their veins back to 
 their hearts, and then down, down into the lap 
 of their Mother Nature, where only warmth could 
 be found? 
 
 Could Indian summer possibly be anything but
 
 THE LADY OF THE GARDEN. 81 
 
 wistfully, dumbly sad? for she is the messenger 
 of dissolution, the Azrael of the seasons. 
 
 The ravine grew more and more wild, great, gray 
 stone shelves jutting out above and below them. 
 Here and there were some grassy little plateaux 
 that had evidently been cultivated at some time, 
 though there were no late signs of a farmer's 
 handiwork, not even the track of a wheel on the 
 old road that was half covered with grass, not 
 even the tinkle of a cow-bell on the still air. 
 There was the sense of rest and peace pervading 
 the place. One could not imagine it belonging to 
 the world of the junction and the waiting theatri- 
 cal party, the grumbling of the comedian, and 
 the piled-up trunks with their tinsel of mimic 
 art. 
 
 4 'One can almost hear the silence," he said, 
 stopping with closed eyes for a moment. 
 
 "Nonsense!" answered Miss Practical, shying 
 an apple-core down into the ravine, and startling 
 a little brown bird from its leafy covert, "hear 
 silence! No one but madmen or poets make 
 such pretenses." 
 
 " Well, then, we will say feel it," he amended. 
 " More than that I will not modify my speech. 
 Close your eyes for an instant and stand per- 
 fectly still. Feel the silence? Of course you can. 
 It gathers so near that it oppresses you as with a 
 weight. It is a cloak that drapes you close and 
 shuts out all sounds of humanity beyond those 
 hills. You want me to think you have no imagi- 
 nation, that you do not comprehend, but you are
 
 32 IN LOVE'S DOMAINS. 
 
 only one of that class who pretend to close their 
 eyes and ears to all ideality, for fear of being 
 called visionary or romantic; don't I know you? 
 Yon constantly repress all feeling for fear of 
 showing too much." 
 
 " Hear! hear!" she broke in, laughingly, "you 
 have mistaken your vocation. You should be 
 delivering lectures on Ideality versus Common 
 Sense. Common sense will always win, my friend, 
 while your finely spun theories- 
 She stopped short, for a bend in the old road had 
 brought them suddenly on a bit of cleared ground 
 on which a log cabin stood. It had disclosed itself 
 so unexpectedly that the subject of conversation 
 was forgotten. Quiet everything was about it; 
 not a sound broke the stillness, but all the air 
 was fragrant from the wealth of blossoms in the 
 garden about the rustic cottage, and as they drew 
 nearer they noticed, in wonder, the artistic arrange- 
 ment of them something very different from the 
 patches of garden truck and a few posies, such as 
 generally belonged to the cabins among the 
 hills. 
 
 There was an exquisite neatness pervading the 
 whole, and a luxuriance of blossom that showed a 
 care that had surely love for an aid. A path led 
 from the little gate up to the door, which stood 
 open. 
 
 "I am determined to go in and look at those 
 flowers," announced the girl. " I am half drunk 
 with the fragrance of those roses, and there is jas- 
 mine somewhere about, I know. But there is such
 
 THE LADY OF THE GARDEN. 33 
 
 an air of sanctuary pervading the place all this 
 stillness, all this silence I feel as if waiting for 
 the curtain to go up on a transformation scene;" 
 and she laughed a little, her gaze on the open 
 door. "Go in, Aberdeen, you may find Beauty 
 asleep waiting for the prince." 
 
 He walked between the ranks of drooping, odor- 
 ous roses to the narrow stone step of the cabin. 
 His knock was answered by the sound of footsteps 
 over the bare wooden floor, and an instant later a 
 figure appeared in the low doorway. 
 
 If the visitors had expected some form of youth 
 and beauty, as the chatelaine of all that wealth of 
 blossoms, the figure that met them was a startling 
 disappointment. A woman it was, a woman of 
 about forty-five; a small, grotesque figure, with a 
 quaint, dark face, and full, steady, dark eyes. 
 They were the redeeming point in a face that, 
 without their keen intelligence, would have resem- 
 bled an ape's. There was a large, wide mouth, 
 a flat nose, and the face, below the eyes, narrowing 
 until the chin was almost a point, giving it a foxy 
 or apish outline, that yet had none of the coarse- 
 ness of animalism in it. It was saved from that 
 by the breadth of brow and the kindly light in the 
 wonderful, dark eyes, eyes that smiled at the two 
 without any of the shyness so often shown in the 
 manner of the country woman. 
 
 " Good morning, madam," said the young gen- 
 tleman, a little taken aback at the quaint, unex- 
 pected picture, while his companion at the gate, 
 seeing only the grotesque figure, and out of the
 
 34 IN LOVE'S DOMAINS. 
 
 range of that light in the eyes, drew back, repelled 
 at sight of the peculiar-looking creature. 
 
 " A good day to you, sir, and to your lady, as 
 well," she answered, in a clear, low voice, with an 
 intonation that saved from stiffness the stately, 
 old-fashioned greeting. * ' Will you walk in? ' ' 
 
 " We only stopped to look at your beautiful gar- 
 den," said the girl, drawing nearer to the chate- 
 laine of the roses. That soft voice had a mesmeric 
 effect, f olio wing so close on the repugnance induced 
 by a first glance. "The flowers are so beautiful 
 we could not resist the temptation to enter, even 
 at the risk of being thought intruders." 
 
 "You can not be that, young lady; it does me 
 good to see young faces. They have seldom come 
 here, but are always welcome to me, and, I think, 
 to the flowers." 
 
 The two visitors glanced quickly at each other, 
 and the little woman smiled as she noticed it. 
 
 ' ' You think that a strange remark? ' ' she asked. 
 "You would not if you had lived among them, 
 having them as your only visible companions for 
 years. But sit you down and rest. Have you 
 walked far?" 
 
 " Only from the junction below," he answered; 
 "we were waiting for a train north, and come up 
 this ravine for a walk. The road is so grass- 
 grown, we scarcely expected to find a house 
 here." 
 
 "Yes, it has not had much travel for years, 
 and is badly washed in places. Once in a great 
 while, people come past here to the church-yard
 
 THE LADY OF THE GAKDEN. 35 
 
 above, but not often not often, for the main road 
 to it lies on the other side of the hill." 
 
 " You have not lived here long, then?" asked 
 the girl, thinking of the unused road. 
 
 " Twenty-five years next spring since my hus- 
 band and I came to live in this house. Time 
 seems long or short, according to how it is lived, 
 young lady. Some of the years were very short 
 ones to us. He is up there now," and she nod- 
 ded her head toward a well-worn path leading up 
 over a knoll beside the house, and disappearing 
 in the woods above. 
 
 "Are the flowers your own special care?" 
 asked the girl. "Husbands, especially working 
 men, have seldom time for their cultivation." 
 
 " He could always find time for them, he loved 
 them so dearly, even as a boy, and I think I 
 think he does yet," and her eyes looked past 
 them a little wistfully toward the path up which 
 her husband had evidently gone. "This rose 
 tree here at the door, he planted twenty years ago 
 a little slip it was. He brought it from Missis- 
 sippi one spring when the river raised, and the 
 rafts were sent down with the freshet. They told 
 him it would never grow here, that the climate 
 was too severe, but he said it would grow for him, 
 he knew, and so it did. He coaxed and petted it 
 into bloom, and it has richly repaid him. It is 
 the most fragrant of all the creeping things," and 
 she raised her hand, pulling down to her cheek a 
 large crimson rose, whose golden heart seemed to 
 open under her touch to a richer perfume, as her
 
 36 IN LOVE'S DOMAINS. 
 
 brown fingers lingered lovingly over the shiny 
 green of its leaves as she let it swing softly back 
 to its place. "Yes, yes, the flowers are always 
 grateful to the people who care for them, and 
 they know so well the difference between earnest 
 love and careless admiration. They are very 
 discerning, the eyes of the flowers." 
 
 Her voice was the softest and sweetest the girl 
 thought she had ever listened to. There was 
 silence for a little while after she ceased, and 
 vaguely conscious of a wish that she would continue 
 to speak in that soothing, mesmeric tone, after 
 which any other voice would seem discordant, they 
 wondered at the refinement of her speech, that 
 was such a contrast to her surroundings. She 
 looked poor; her dress of dark calico was worn 
 and patched, the floor of her cabin was bare, while 
 the furniture was most primitive; but over all 
 was the neatness, the austerity one finds in the 
 walls of a convent, with the subtle air of the 
 cloister through the log dAvelling. 
 
 It may have been the very unexpectedness of 
 such a meeting there in the hills that made the 
 two view her from such a picturesque standpoint. 
 The girl could find no words of cynicism strug- 
 gling for expression in answer to the dreamy 
 fancies of this quaint lady of the garden. A cer- 
 tain atmosphere pervading the place seemed to 
 bar out all worldly logic, all cynicism that would 
 jar on the simple, earnest character, whose primi- 
 tive directness of speech had unconsciously a vein 
 of oriental fancy through it.
 
 THE LADY OF THE GARDEN. 37 
 
 "It is late for the flowers in this region, is it 
 not?" asked the girl; "they will soon be gone 
 now that the frosts have come." 
 
 "They are never gone entirely from me," she 
 answered, quietly, " I keep them inside when the 
 winter comes all that I can move. I have had 
 them so long I could not be without them now, 
 and every day I want fresh ones for him up 
 there." 
 
 " Your husband?" 
 
 "Yes, young gentleman, these were his favor- 
 ites," and she gathered some golden-brown pan- 
 sies, of which there was a profusion at either side 
 of the door, and on the bare, deal table inside, a 
 shallow dish was filled with them. " 'The little 
 folks J he used to call them, and would pick out 
 the prettiest faces among them to bring me, in the 
 school days. Across the hill on the other road, 
 was the old school-house, the only one in this 
 region in those days." 
 
 "And you were school-mates?" asked the girl, 
 "and have known each other always?" 
 
 "Always, young lady. I have no recollections 
 of life without him. Twenty we both were when 
 we married, and walked across the hills here to 
 this house in the spring it was. The frost was 
 yet in the ground beyond the hills, but this little 
 plat is so sheltered, the sun seems to seek it first, 
 and that spring was sunnier than any other had 
 ever been before, and the 'little folks' had just 
 opened their eyes here where he had planted them 
 for me by the window, and the hyacinths and
 
 38 IN LOVE'S DOMAINS. 
 
 crocuses were open. All through the winter he 
 had worked and covered them from the cold, 
 keeping them warm that they might be able to 
 show their faces to us at our home-coming that 
 one day." 
 
 "Twenty-five years, and you remember so well 
 the flowers that were in bloom first?" 
 
 The dark eyes smiled at the questioner. 
 
 " Yes, young lady, it has not been hard for me 
 to remember, for it was the day of days to me, as 
 it is, I think, to every woman." 
 
 The two young people glanced at each other. 
 The thought of the conversation of an hour ago 
 was in both their minds, and the girl rose quickly 
 and stepped out into the path through the flowers. 
 
 " I should like to look at those tuberoses," she 
 remarked, U I can smell them above all the rest." 
 
 " Certainly," and the little woman arose and 
 walked before them, telling them the names of 
 many and the widely different natures hidden 
 under their bright faces; of the crimson poppy 
 that bears sleep in its crystal tears; of the flowers 
 of the sun through which Clytie was enabled 
 always to keep her face turned toward the god 
 she loved; of the many varieties of roses that 
 broke open their fragrant hearts monthly through 
 the long winters, that their sweetness might bring 
 forgetfulness of the lost summer; with here and 
 there plants and flowers of the woods, delicate, 
 fragile creatures, timid and a little frightened at 
 the steady stare of the sun, but trying so bravely 
 to hold their heads aloft and show glad faces to
 
 THE LADY OF THE GAKDEN. 39 
 
 the hand that cared for them so tenderly. The 
 spiky, mottled leaves of the pipsissewa, with its 
 healing powers hidden under the shining surface, 
 crept close to a cluster of odorous white violets, 
 while back of them both, nodded the lemon and 
 orange tints of the wild lady slipper, whose rela- 
 tionship to the rare family of orchids she ex- 
 plained, and of that curious union of the hawk- 
 moth and the flower that propagated the species. 
 And of all she spoke as a mother speaks of dearly 
 loved children, with a touch of pantheism in the 
 tenderness that seemed to recognize a brother 
 or sister in every atom of the plant-life about 
 her. 
 
 "Look here, Aberdeen," called the girl from 
 the corner of the garden, "look at this purple 
 mass of heliotrope." 
 
 "Aberdeen?" repeated the little woman, "You 
 have the face of your Scottish poet, young gen- 
 tleman. I thought you of his country. I have 
 here that ' wee crimson-tipped flower,' his song 
 honored," and she plucked a pink-tipped English 
 daisy from a jar and gave it to him. 
 
 " You read our Bard o' Ayr, then? " he asked. 
 
 " We read it together often in past days. We 
 had few books, but we studied them all the more 
 through the winter evenings, and he was always a 
 favorite. Every creeping thing had his sympathy; 
 no shrinking, timid one among the flowers that 
 had not his love. His voice was that of a prophet 
 who had a message to deliver, the voice of one 
 crying in the wilderness, for he made clear the
 
 40 IN LOVE'S DOMAINS. 
 
 path for those who were to follow and showed 
 them warm, homely, human hearts for their 
 study, and not the outward forms of sounding 
 verse. Ah, yes! Burns will always be dear to the 
 lover of rugged Nature, with all her homeliness 
 and all her beauty." 
 
 It would be impossible to give with pen and 
 paper an idea of the grave sweetness of her speech, 
 that seemed like the speech of one who was com- 
 muning with herself, who was in the habit of utter- 
 ing her thoughts without a listener. A strange 
 character she seemed to those two travelers. 
 She had evidently lived so much out of the ken 
 of her neighbors, with only the husband, the 
 flowers, and the books for companions, that there 
 was a purity of expression in her tones that had 
 none of the slurred intonation noticed in the 
 others of the country-folk, yet she said her hus- 
 band and self had lived always there. Well, 
 Dame Nature plays strange freaks sometimes. 
 It had evidently been her caprice to place those 
 two souls together, thoroughly in sympathy with 
 each other, yet seemingly so thoroughly cut off 
 from all communication with their kind. 
 
 Books, the great refiners of the mind, had not 
 been read by her carelessly. In all her conversa- 
 tion was the mark of thought. From the flowers 
 she seemed to have culled similies that were 
 applied to the actual life about her with the 
 imagination of a poet, and the pure diction of a 
 scholar, and withal had a stately simplicity of 
 expression that was not the speech of our times.
 
 THE LADY OF THE GARDEN". 41 
 
 To hear her talk was like hearing the lines of 
 Scott or of Lytton. 
 
 "I saw her books on that little shelf by the 
 door- way," whispered the girl to her compan- 
 ion. "There was the Bible, Goldsmith's Ani- 
 mated Nature, Swift's Letters, and Taine's Lit- 
 erature, besides a few without covers. Suppose 
 we had to confine our reading to those, we would 
 think ourselves back in the dark ages." 
 
 The little lady seemed altogether delighted to 
 hear their admiring praise of her garden. 
 
 "It is as he planned it years ago," she said, 
 "before he went up there, and to see it changed 
 in any way would be a grief to him, I think. 
 You see this grass," and she pointed to a great 
 tuft of the white and green ribbon-grass near the 
 paling, "that came from his mother's garden 
 years ago, before she had left our world. I use it 
 always to tie together the flowers for him in the 
 morning. I fancy it will please him most. As 
 children we used to search for hours to find two 
 of the blades exactly alike, but we never could; 
 they are as varied as the faces our Maker has 
 given to humanity. Did you ever think of that 
 mighty work of the Master who never gives a 
 duplicate, always an original to this magnificent 
 gallery of his the world? The flowers bring us 
 so many lessons if we but open our ears to listen. 
 I have listened and watched them so long that I 
 have few thoughts not associated with them. 
 This may all seem strange to you who lead such a 
 different life."
 
 42 IN LOVE'S DOMAINS. 
 
 "I think your companions most beautiful," 
 said the girl, impulsively, " and as for you well, 
 I do not wonder they love you. You seem made 
 for each other. We have been more than enter- 
 tained to-day, and you have given us lessons from 
 the flowers that I promise you will not be care- 
 lessly forgotten." 
 
 The laughing, mocking light was all gone from 
 the level-looking eyes of the girl, and her voice 
 was not quite steady. For once she was earnest 
 with an earnestness that did not cloak itself 
 with cynicism. There was something in the sim- 
 ple life and speech of the little lady that bespoke 
 a grand patience and a simple veneration such as 
 is conferred only by the kiss of God. The 
 young woman of the world felt this dimly, felt 
 drawn by the mesmeric tones into a higher, purer 
 atmosphere, into the air that is breathed by those 
 who live outside the artificial boundaries of what 
 is called our world, to whom the life blood of 
 thought has been given warm from the veins that 
 lie closest to the heart of nature. 
 
 "And I thought her homely," said the girl, 
 softly, to her companion, as she gathered some of 
 the bright grass to tie some roses given by the 
 generous brown hand. "Homely! I can not 
 realize it now." 
 
 " She is grand," he answered in the same tone, 
 "and to think that every morning she presents to 
 her husband a bouquet of these blossoms. Where 
 can you find a more delicate manner of expressing 
 devotion? I should like to see him; he must be
 
 THE LADY OF THE GAKDEN. 43 
 
 an exceptional man to be worthy of her. It is an 
 ideal home despite the primitive surroundings, 
 for it is a marriage as such a marriage was surely 
 intended to be. In hearing her speak of him it 
 recalls the old legend of a soul divided into two 
 bodies, and sent out into the world to find its 
 mate. It sounds visionary but holds truth in it 
 when seen in the light that seems to encircle this 
 retreat. 
 
 The little lady came up to them with a fragrant, 
 snowy stalk of tuberose, which she handed to 
 the girl. 
 
 " They are almost gone," she said, "there are 
 but two stalks left, one I give you to remember 
 this morning 11 s walk by, and that you have given 
 pleasure to a lone woman by the sight of your 
 bright young faces; the other one I keep for him 
 to-morrow." 
 
 " Then you are lonely sometimes? " 
 
 "Alone, not lonely, young gentleman," she 
 amended. "Once I was lonely here; it was 
 years ago, when these hands had the impulsive 
 blood of youth in them. It is so hard to school 
 them into patience, ah, I know, I know! Though 
 the long nights of one winter rebellion made 
 them clench fiercely, instead of folding meekly 
 to His will, and it was spring time ere the mes- 
 sage was brought that lifted the weight from my 
 life. All best things have been given me by the 
 spring time, and when the day comes that He is 
 to take me up there, 1 feel it will be when the 
 crocuses and hyacinths open, the same season as
 
 44 IN LOVE'S DOMAINS. 
 
 when we walked hand in hand across the hills to 
 our home. I should like to think that on some 
 such a day we could go the same way to the feet 
 of our Maker. Well, it was in the spring time, 
 and the trees were but half fledged, just bits of the 
 tender green peeping through the rough winter 
 coats. You see that quivering, trembling tree by 
 my door? It is the quaking aspen; there are 
 many in our woods. Do you know the story of 
 the passion they witnessed centuries ago, the 
 memory of which has thrilled their hearts to the 
 core ever since? He told me of it long ago, when 
 he planted it there. 'Sometime, my wife,' he 
 said, ' we may need a reminder of this life that 
 was given for us, and this promise of immortality 
 through which we know that this life of ours is 
 only an interval, an atom in the grand structure 
 of our Father's universe. Rebellion may come to 
 us in our blindness sometime, but we will have 
 here a whispering reminder of a love passing that 
 of humanity.' 
 
 "Those were his words, young gentleman. It 
 is years since I heard them, but it is not hard to 
 keep in your memory the words of a voice that is 
 dearest to you of all others. And then he told 
 me the story of the aspen tree. The cross of 
 Christ, they say, was made from its white wood. 
 The blood given His earthly form stained the deli- 
 cate grain, and sent through all its species a 
 shudder that centuries can not still. It is an old 
 legend; he knew so many, and could tell them so 
 earnestly, that they carried always some lesson
 
 THE LADY OF THE GAKDEN. 45 
 
 under strange fancies. Well, it was in the spring 
 time after long months of grief over my great 
 loss. I was lying awake in the early dawn, re- 
 bellions at the thought of days yet to be lived, 
 when a soft whispering rustle came to my ears 
 so soft that it carried a soothing sense of rest to a 
 mind tired through impotent battles. I can not 
 convey to you the feeling borne to my senses by 
 that whispering sound. I lay quite still, holding 
 my breath as I listened. There came to me anon 
 his words of the tree and its mission; and with 
 the first green leaves of the spring it seemed striv- 
 ing to whisper to me a reminder of that grand 
 patience that could say, 'Thy will be done.' That 
 morning I rose from my bed a different person. 
 The whispering aspen had brought to me the 
 thoughts he meant it should bear to us when he 
 planted it there. Something gave me a higher 
 hope, a stronger faith that morning. I have tried 
 to live by it ever since, and it is not so hard now. 
 I am lonely no more. I have his thoughts, often 
 his presence, with me, I think, and I have always 
 the whispers of the trembling aspen, and the les- 
 sons of the blossoms; they do not leave me 
 lonely." 
 
 " But your husband ?" 
 
 "He is up there, young gentleman, up in the 
 churchyard on the hill. It is eighteen years since 
 he was taken there to rest. I was a young woman 
 then, young and strong, and the dread of my life 
 alone was terrible at first. But every day takes 
 me nearer to him, and when age creeps closer and
 
 46 IN LOVE'S DOMAINS. 
 
 the blood flows slower and slower in the veins, it 
 is not so hard to wait." 
 
 Tears were in the eyes of the young people as 
 she finished her story, told quietly, earnestly, and 
 with a patience in the quaint, dark face, that was 
 touching. 
 
 "Eighteen years!" repeated the girl, as the 
 sense of all those years of loneliness came slowly 
 to her all those years of devotion to a memory; 
 " eighteen years, and you here alone through them 
 all, with no other companions? With no thought 
 of marriage that would 
 
 " You do not understand, young lady," she 
 said, quietly. "I had loved him, had been his 
 wife; how then could I think of another?" 
 
 The girl bent her head to the reproof, uttered in 
 the sweet, soft tones. 
 
 "I thank you," she said, softly, and reaching 
 out a white hand, laid it gently on the brown one 
 that had wrested its living from the herbs of the 
 woods for so many years. The old eyes smiled on 
 her kindly. 
 
 "It is a lesson you will learn without words 
 from others, young lady, that is, if you use your 
 eyes in the study of your own kind, and in the 
 world you will find as many types for study as 
 there are ribbons of grass in the field. But, among 
 them all, you will find no woman content with 
 the content that will last through old age, save 
 the woman who has known honest love and been 
 true to it all the days of her life." 
 
 Her two listeners as by one impulse rose to their
 
 THE LADY OF THE GARDEN. 47 
 
 feet as she finished speaking, and there was an 
 added reverence in the manner of the tall young 
 fellow as he stood bare-headed, looking down at 
 the patient, quaint face, and holding out his hand 
 in farewell. 
 
 "I can not tell you the pleasure this meeting has 
 been to me," he said, earnestly, his blue eyes moist 
 with a great sympathy with this strange charac- 
 ter. "I thank you for telling us your story. It 
 will be a memory that will help me all my life to 
 have faith in human nature." 
 
 "God be good to you, young gentleman," she 
 said, simply. ' ' I think it was the likeness to the 
 eyes of your poet that shone through your own 
 his eyes with a comprehension of the needs of 
 humanity that made it seem natural to speak to 
 you so. It might be difficult with some, but I 
 felt you would understand." 
 
 Their hands were clasped closely for an instant, 
 and then with alow "thank you!" on his part, an 
 earnest "God be with you!" on hers, he turned 
 and walked down the odorous path of roses, the 
 tints of all sadly confused and blended by the 
 tears in his eyes that did no discredit to his man- 
 liness. The girl stooped and kissed the old face, 
 but co aid find no words of farewell to utter. It 
 was a strange parting, but the silence was more 
 expressive than words could have been. 
 
 The two walked, without speaking, down the 
 road to the bend, where they both stopped and 
 looked back. The little lady was still standing 
 by the open door under the quivering aspen, and.
 
 48 IN LOVE'S DOMAINS. 
 
 shading her eyes with her hand, was gazing after 
 them. 
 
 The girl turned away with the sound of a sob 
 in her firm, white throat. 
 
 "And I thought her hideous," she said, trem- 
 ulously. " Heaven forgive me, she is beautiful!" 
 and then, still under the spell of the scene they 
 had just left, she held out her hand to her com- 
 panion. 
 
 " May your bonnie lassie be always as true as 
 that woman. May your love be always to you 
 what hers has been a sacrament."
 
 A ROMATOT. 
 
 THE PROFESSOR'S STORY. 
 
 I have not been a romance writer heretofore 
 not even a romance reader since the beginning of 
 my college days. I have tried conscientiously to 
 read up in late fiction, with the idea of gaining a 
 bit of literary style for this story of mine. But 
 the title has been all I have secured so far. It 
 sounded literary, so I took it. But between the 
 spasmodical emotional school that suggests hys- 
 teria, and the psychological theories that suggest 
 opium, toasted to the right consistency, I con- 
 cluded that my bump of ideality was not equal 
 to the elements required for the enamel of modern 
 fiction. 
 
 Then I visited a couple of literary acquaint- 
 ances, and heard discourses on story-constructing 
 from the puffed-sleeved, straight-gowned sort, 
 who wear sad-looking, slimsy stuffs, of jaundice 
 tints and bilious shades. One of them talked to 
 me three hours, on a hot day, of her dream -chil- 
 dren that gained entrance to earth, and the eyes of 
 men, through the workings of the thing she called 
 her soul; and the other one never spoke of her 
 
 4 (49)
 
 60 IN LOVE'S DOMAINS. 
 
 stories, it was always "My life, my thought, the 
 child of my brain." 
 
 After an interview with each, I concluded this 
 effort at fiction would have to be one without trim- 
 mings. 
 
 There are two people in this story. There may 
 have been more. I think there was. But in the 
 commencement of it here, I can only think of 
 the two ; and when she was seventeen, and he 
 was twenty-three, they only thought of one an- 
 other. 
 
 There is a village in the story a village they 
 were both born in its name was Darlington no 
 matter about the State. But it is one of the good, 
 old-fashioned places that refuse to change its so- 
 lidity of opinion for the flimsiness of modern 
 advancement. A town that is still proud of its 
 leading citizens, who appealed to the Legislature 
 to prevent a railroad from coming within several 
 miles of it, and succeeded. 
 
 There was a young ladies' seminary at one end 
 of its longest street, and a medical college at the 
 other, so it was a place of learning of intellect, 
 into which a railroad would have brought stran- 
 gers and other disturbing elements so thought 
 the residents, among them the parents of the 
 young man, and the maiden aunt of the young 
 lady the hero and heroine of this romaunt. 
 
 I state this in the beginning, that it may be 
 known just what they are. I object to mysteries; 
 labels pinned to characters in stories might not be 
 thought ornamental, but I think they would
 
 A ROMAUNT. 61 
 
 save readers a deal of time in trying to solve puz- 
 zles, so I label mine. 
 
 I believe it is the usual thing in an educational 
 institution, to single out the one that is a little 
 dreamier than the rest of the dreamy ones, and if 
 she can make rhymes her chums are proud of her 
 and call her the school-poet. 
 
 The girl of my story was the poetess of Darling- 
 ton seminary, and added to that she was the 
 prettiest girl in town so she was termed at all 
 events; and there was not a student in the medical 
 college who would not have sworn that her eyes 
 held more poems than her verses. Not but what 
 they were good verses. They may have been. I 
 am not a judge. 
 
 A good many of the best of them so she said 
 then were composed after walks on moonlight 
 evenings with the hero. His name was well, 
 sometimes she called him Coeur de Leon, when 
 some extra nerve of his in the dissecting room 
 the strength to look on severed flesh and scraped 
 bones made her shudder with fear, and then raise 
 her blue eyes to his auburn mustache, with a look 
 of admiring adoration, then it was that she gave 
 him the titles of ideal warriors. And on Sundays 
 when he wore his best clothes and read decor- 
 ously in the Bible-class in the morning, and in 
 the afternoon stood up facing the congregation, 
 and sang with the choir he sang bass then it 
 was she attributed to him those elements of 
 angeldom, and called him in her thoughts and 
 the verse that was published in the county papers
 
 52 IN LOVE'S DOMAINS. 
 
 Sir Galahad; his own name was Thomas Q. 
 Sefton. 
 
 The course of their love ran very smoothly. 
 There were of course some days of desperation 
 and some nights of sleeplessness, when one of the 
 other fellows became more attentive than he had 
 any business to be. But those two, who had taken 
 bites from the same stick of candy in their pina- 
 fore days, would not long allow a disturbing ele- 
 ment in their devotion. In fact, the advent of 
 the other fellow hastened a formal avowal of 
 something that had before been but a stammering 
 supposition to their guileless young hearts. 
 There were no dissenting parents or guardians in 
 the case. In fact, their families were so delighted 
 with the engagement that one would have sup- 
 posed them each to be superfluous characters 
 not desirable in the homes of their relatives. 
 Such, however, was not the case, they were nice 
 young people, ambitious and virtuous. 
 
 I state all this in the beginning, that you may 
 know the idyl of their young lives was a flawless 
 one; the sort of perfect love that casts out fear 
 of the divorce courts. It was the sort of affec- 
 tion, if any there be, that is conducive to con- 
 stancy and the unwavering style of thing that ties 
 hearts together and jogs them along to a double 
 tombstone. 
 
 I have a reason for desiring to impress this fact 
 of flawlessness on the reader. If this is ever pub- 
 lished the reason will be apparent. There are 
 two other men writing each a story while I am
 
 A ROMATTNT. 53 
 
 doing this. They have their reasons, too. When 
 they are all done an editor is to read them, and if 
 he ever discovers any reason why they should be 
 published, he is to pay us a salary for the 
 romances. Salary may not be the correct word 
 to a literary ear, but it means money, any way. 
 I do not know what the other two are writing 
 about, only that they are to tell love stories. 
 
 They may tell a more stylish story than mine; 
 no doubt they will. They may even be able to 
 make the love in theirs manifest through the 
 action or speech of their lovers, while I have to 
 boldly state the fact of mine and depend on 
 either the imagination or reminiscences of the 
 reader to help me out. All of you have some 
 time had a girl, a best girl, and know as well as I 
 do the sort of conversations, and dreams of bliss 
 they indulge in. I suppose every pair of them 
 say about the same thing, with variations. 
 
 But though the other two may tell a more lit- 
 erary story than mine, I doubt if either of them 
 can get for a foundation a more closely filtered, 
 condensed extract of Paradise than the devotion, 
 in the beginning, of these two nice young people 
 of Darlington. 
 
 There was to be no haste about their union. 
 Each had, after a searching of their inmost souls, 
 decided in solemn exchange of vows that their 
 love was one of the unchangeable things in the 
 universe. They had endurance to wait until the 
 short years would bring them closer to their ambi- 
 tious hopes. Each had a yearning to take into
 
 54 IN LOVE'S DOMAINS. 
 
 their united beds and boards the first fruits of 
 their young brains, bound in Russia leather. Ilt-r 
 poems, and his articles on Medicinal Semeioti.es 
 that were already gaining him notice among the 
 students. And they would gaze pensively into 
 each other's eyes, feeling themselves very brave 
 in thus setting their love ahead of them for the 
 sake of learning, feeling the great sacrifice they 
 were making. 
 
 "It is on your account, Tommett," she said, 
 sweetly. She called him Tommett as a pet name, 
 a dear term known only to them two selves their 
 only secret. " It is for your loved sake that it is 
 so. You must mount untrammeled to the higher 
 rungs of anatomical studies, satisfy the craving of 
 your soul, and search through the fleshly veil for 
 the evidence of of whatever you are looking for, 
 ere I will consent to share entirely your hours or 
 be the innocent cause of neglect to those delvings 
 that are to enrich the world of science. Our love 
 is unalterable; we can wait." 
 
 As I said before, I am not a judge of verse, but 
 suppose those who are will understand by her 
 language that she was a poet. As for Tommett, 
 he felt just as she did, but he could not say it like 
 that. It was a big thing to know that the pret- 
 tiest girl in town is to belong, heart and soul, to a 
 fellow, supposing, of course, that it is the right 
 fellow. Tommett felt that it was. And when the 
 prettiest girl is also called a genius, what sort of 
 love would it be that did not seek to foster the 
 divine flame? So he thought, and so he told
 
 A EOMATJNT. 55 
 
 Minna Evolina, tenderly. She should continue her 
 maiden meditations and string them into verse 
 that would lead his prospective bride to fame. It 
 was a great sacrifice to give her up to anything, 
 even to metre and rhyme. But it was for her 
 dear sake; that thought alone made him resigned. 
 
 The suspended union made them both feel like 
 modern Spartans, and it helped them both in a 
 practical way. It made Tommett feel of much 
 more importance, gave him more confidence in 
 himself. The adoration of a genius and the strength 
 required for the postponement of the marriage 
 ceremony are enough to make any young fellow 
 have a belief in himself. 
 
 As for Minna Evolina, it was so much stock in 
 trade to her. If the moonlight walks and the 
 choir singing were inspirations to her, so also were 
 the "throes of love that rocked her soul in the cra- 
 dle of poesy." I take that sentence from one of 
 the remembered poems. It sounds literary, and 
 as I have no style of my own to embellish this 
 romance with, I should think it allowable to bor- 
 row from one of the characters in it. 
 
 The nearest thing to grief that came between 
 them was Minna Evolina' s fear that at times her 
 chosen did not enter into the spirit of her verse as 
 a kindred soul should. Now the young man felt 
 the thrill of a kindred soul when he squeezed her 
 fingers or asked if he could kiss her. She always 
 said yes, and he always did it. But he edged 
 away from the subject of poems when possible; he 
 acknowledged that he was too practical to under-
 
 56 IN LOVE'S DOMAINS. 
 
 stand them always. But they were liers; there- 
 fore he loved them, and at that point in the conver- 
 sation he generally kissed her again they were 
 very devoted. 
 
 " My dreamy fancies may seem too ethereal to 
 you," she said, one blissful evening "even silly 
 to your more practical and profound style of 
 thought. But believe me, Tommett, whatever the 
 theme whether subtle or shallow it has always 
 you and our love for a key-note. Ah, that I could 
 sing you into the hearts of the people as you are 
 in mine own." 
 
 She said "mine own," and "dostthou," and 
 other terms that are poetic. That evening, she 
 said: "And dost thou love me, Tommett? " And 
 the young man said, " I dost, dearest," and then 
 wondered for an hour after, just what it was he 
 replied, and if it was or was not grammatical, 
 and he was not a dull fellow either. But you 
 get a pretty girl, on a summer evening, in a white 
 dress, and have her ask you the same question 
 in the same way, and see if it does not knock 
 the contents of school-books out of your head 
 instanter. It takes just about thirty seconds 
 of that sort of existence, with kisses between 
 breaths, to convince any student that book-bind- 
 ings do not cover a monopoly of knowledge after 
 all. 
 
 "And what would you do to prove your love 
 for me?" she continued, sweetly, looking up 
 at him with pensively-rolling eyes, and he 
 deftly circled her slim waist with one of his
 
 A KOMATJNT. 57 
 
 arms, and without hesitation said, with sweeping 
 certainty: ' ' Anything everything. ' ' 
 
 And he meant it, too. 
 
 He was laconic, but he was intense. The pro- 
 fessor of the college whom he admired most in 
 those days, was also laconic. At first it may 
 have been a reflected manner that gradually 
 became the young man's own. Minna Evolina 
 liked it. She said it lent majesty to his charac- 
 ter and she liked majesty in a man it made her 
 seem very weak and very childish beside him, as 
 if he was the strong oak and she the clinging vine, 
 and she wondered if he would ever grow tired of 
 her woman-like dependence on him and his ideas, 
 and he said he never would he hoped she would 
 always cling, and then he kissed her again, and 
 tightened his arm a little around her waist, tight 
 enough to notice that the dress she wore fitted her 
 much too snugly. He envied that dress with a 
 lover's greediness, even while he, as her future 
 husband and sometime medical adviser, told her 
 gently and firmly, that three of her ribs were 
 compressed to a degree that was not consistent 
 with continued health, and that her dressmaker 
 must be allowed more material, and that she must 
 have more breathing room. 
 
 And she said she would speak to Aunt Hennie 
 of it in the morning, and of course dear Tommett's 
 opinion was right, she thought a dutiful wife's 
 ideas were alwa} r s a reflex of her husband's, and 
 she wanted him to see how entirely she meant to 
 mold herself to his wishes.
 
 58 IN LOVE'S DOMAINS. 
 
 They were very happy and very guileless a 
 modern Adam and Eve before the fruit season. 
 
 It was about this period in their devotion that 
 Aunt Hennie became afflicted, or endowed, with 
 an internal ailment, a disarrangement of digest- 
 ive organs, for which she was advised to try the 
 German springs of Carlsbad. Aunt Hennie was 
 a nice old lady, Tommett had alwa}- s liked her, 
 and he forgives her for her ailment now. But 
 just then he was distraught over the thought that 
 Minna Evolina was to bear her aunt company, 
 and time and again during the days of preparation 
 did he swear, in the privacy of his mother' s house, 
 that dear Aunt Hennie' s greatest ailment was a 
 superabundance of appetite, and that if nature 
 had studied her needs niore closely she would 
 have been gifted with the digestive apparatus 
 of an ostrich or a goat. 
 
 But the day of parting grew closer, and the 
 vows of faithfulness more intense and more sure 
 of being kept. 
 
 They each had new daguerreotypes taken, and 
 he put a lock of his hair in the case of his and 
 gave it to her ; and she cut one of the beau- 
 catchers from above her ear and put in the case of 
 hers for him. She also, as an emblem of constancy 
 in absence, gave him a bunch of immortelles tied 
 with a green and pink ribbon. 
 
 And then the day came when he squeezed her 
 fingers for the last time, and kissed her while she 
 wept becomingly. And he kissed Aunt Hennie, 
 also, and set her lunch-basket in easy reach of her
 
 A EOMAUISTT. 59 
 
 fat arms, and said to her in an aside of intense 
 feeling: " Take good care of my darling for me." 
 And Aunt Hennie, who did not hear very well, 
 gave him a second kiss, and told him not to worry, 
 for she would take as good care of herself as she 
 could. And he heard her say to Minna Evolina 
 that she never imagined Thomas had so deep an 
 affection for his Aunt Hennie as he had shown at 
 parting. 
 
 And then the carry-all drove out of sight, start- 
 ing its occupants on the road to the nearest sea- 
 port. And Tommett went sadly back to his room, 
 and looked at her picture, and kissed the immor- 
 telles, and tried to remember some of her verses, 
 and couldn't, and then finished the evening in a 
 lonely but instructive way mounting on wires 
 the bones and sinews of a hand that had a few 
 weeks before been interred from the county poor- 
 house. 
 
 And thus between the soothing proof of her 
 love that was exerted over him when he looked at 
 the yellow white of the blossoms, and the elation 
 of doing a delicate piece of structure in arranging 
 the glistening blue -white of the sinews thus 
 between two tones of feeling as one may say, each 
 masterful in its own way he began his life alone. 
 
 Those two added considerably to the revenues 
 of two governments in the next few months, their 
 correspondence being warm and weighty. Tom- 
 mett was working with a vim born of sacrificing 
 love and scholarly ambition. She might not 
 return for a year, but in that year he determined
 
 60 IN LOVE'S DOMAINS. 
 
 that his native town and its prettiest girl should 
 be proud of his achievements. Before six of the 
 months had passed he was promoted to the post 
 of assistant instructor in craniometry it did not 
 pay him anything, but it was a tribute paid by 
 the faculty to his superior knowledge there was 
 the honor. He had also prepared some papers on 
 "A National PJiysiognomy," for which he had 
 Lavater as evidence for his theories. Those papers 
 gained him special notice, several times he was 
 greeted as "Professor" by the other students, 
 and while a few of them fellows from other 
 States had laughed when they said it, yet that 
 taste of supremacy fixed his decision that he 
 would have that title by right as well as courtesy. 
 He examined his own cranium closely it was a 
 round head a compact head. He thought he 
 could see a resemblance to the first Napoleon in 
 its general traits, that gave him confidence of his 
 own powers of perseverance and perseverance 
 and the genius of hard study are the necessities 
 of success. So he plunged deeper than ever into 
 the studies. He would be a specialist it was the 
 specialists who were the men of mark in those 
 days he would be a marked man. And his special 
 study his hobby as one may say, should be his 
 old love phrenology. 
 
 All this he told Minna Evolinaby mail, and sent 
 her copies of his articles on PJiysiognomy vs. 
 Pathognomy, also a trifle on Average accumula- 
 tion of gall of the different races. 
 
 And she congratulated him in poetical Ian-
 
 A EOMAUNT. 61 
 
 guage and sent Mm copies of her late verses and 
 a synopsis of the others she intended writing. 
 And Aunt Hennie gave him by letter a diagnosis 
 of the benefit Carlsbad waters had been to her. 
 She liked Europe, it agreed with her; she 
 expected to remain there some time. She was 
 going south for the winter into Italy, where she 
 had distant relatives living, whom she never had 
 seen. Minna Evolina was becoming saturated, as 
 it were, with the scholarly and literary elements 
 in which she found herself in Germany. Her 
 foreign friends prophesied great things of her 
 when her provincialisms would disappear, and 
 nothing was so conducive to that end, said 
 Aunt Hennie, as travel and life in strange coun- 
 tries. As for the marriage, they were both very 
 young, they could afford to wait. 
 
 Minna Evolina said about the same thing, but 
 it was in a poetical, pleading letter, asking sweetly 
 for permission from her intended to prolong her 
 stay. And he read it with the feeling of a man 
 who owns property, and graciously granted her 
 request. 
 
 So the first year went by, and about that time 
 Minna Evolina dropped a little loose from verses 
 and took to prose writing. The poetry satisfied 
 her soul needs best, but the prose was the only 
 thing editors would pay her for, and as editors' 
 checks mean fame she dropped the poems, except 
 a few straggling ones to Tommett. 
 
 But the straggles grew less as she gradually was 
 changed from a pensive maiden penning verses into
 
 62 IN LOVE'S DOMAINS. 
 
 a would-be professional woman who liked to see 
 1 ' journalist ' ' added to her name. And as the prose 
 work was not so easy to submit to his judgment 
 he saw no more of her work in manuscripts. The 
 editor of the most eager magazine grew to be the 
 person for whom her heart throbbed on paper. 
 
 At first he did not like the change, but the 
 more he thought of it in a sensible, practical 
 light, the more he understood it was a natural 
 transition. She could not always remain the 
 childish creature she had been, and also accom- 
 pany a man through earnest life and win fame 
 for herself on the way. And he finally convinced 
 himself that he should be glad that this change 
 was fitting her more fully for the honorary posi- 
 tion she would some day hold as the wife and 
 helpmeet of a man of mark an authority on the 
 scientific and fascinating study of craniology. 
 Such was his ambition, and to that end the home 
 of his parents was made a museum of brain cov- 
 erings, a collection of skulls that was the finest 
 owned by any private individual in the State. 
 Many of his profession visited him and went 
 away impressed by the wonderful application of 
 so young a man, and cited his industry and 
 enthusiasm to others. Thus he became talked 
 about; to be talked about is fame. He was 
 famous in his own region, and he had patience 
 and youth enough to afford to wait for the fame 
 of the world. 
 
 As his professional duties and studies widened, 
 so did his correspondence, and, to Minna Evolina,
 
 A EOMAUNT. 63 
 
 he was by necessity forced to send shorter epistles 
 than at first. But he explained it fully to her, 
 and she understood it fully; thus there was per- 
 fect understanding between them, never a discord 
 or a doubt. At the end of the second year, Aunt 
 Hennie really died, to Tommett' s surprise. Her 
 niece was, of course, overwhelmed with grief, and 
 wrote that for the present she would remain 
 abroad with dear Aunt Hennie' s relatives. She 
 did not ask permission this time, she probably 
 forgot it in her grief, so he thought, as he read 
 her letter, and laid it aside to put new wires in 
 the latest addition to his collection the cranium 
 of a deceased Zuni, whose breadth of jaw-bone 
 helped prove a theory he had been interested in 
 for some time. 
 
 Did I speak before of the appearance of Tom- 
 mett? I believe not. He never made any pre- 
 tense of being a handsome man, but he did flatter 
 himself on having an impressive personality. He 
 had heard it said that once seen, his face was not 
 one to be easily forgotten in fact, never to be 
 forgotten. Another instance of resemblance to 
 the first Napoleon. He w T as one of the men who 
 grow bald very early. At first, when he had to 
 brush his thin, auburn locks over his forehead, he 
 was filled with a natural human regret, at the 
 thought that Minna Evolina might not admire 
 him as of yore. But a look at the daguerreotype 
 and the immortelles reassured him. They were 
 enthroned in a place of honor on the largest, 
 broadest skull in his collection that of a Hano-
 
 64 IN LOVE'S DOMAINS. 
 
 verian Dutchman. And looking at these memen- 
 tos of her that brought back to him her vows of 
 devotion if need be, of sacrifice, he knew that a 
 few hairs more or less would make no difference 
 in her heart, and in his profession it gave him 
 an added weight. I do not know why it is that a 
 bald man, or a married man, can gain more confi- 
 dence in professional work than their opposites 
 but such is a fact, perhaps from the idea that they 
 have each seen trouble, and so know how to give 
 sympathy to others. And when Tommett was 
 given by scholarship, instead of courtesy, the title 
 of professor, his cranium had made itself visible 
 through his hair to a considerable extent, it 
 seemed to fit him for those extra degrees. And 
 he was happy, the only flaw being the absence of 
 his loved one, whom he was sorry had to wait the 
 time of a tedious mail ere she heard of the honors 
 that would one day be shared by her. 
 
 And so in everything did their thoughts go 
 across the ocean where the other one was. 
 
 She had been gone over three years when 
 Thomas Q. Sefton, Professor of Anatomy in Dar- 
 lington College, was offered a permanent position 
 by the faculty, who decided he was too valuable 
 to lose. He was twenty-seven at that time, but 
 looked ten years older, perhaps because of the 
 baldness, perhaps because of the studious delvings 
 among his specimens. Nothing, however, in 
 his appearance could alter the fact that the 
 position was one to be proud of. It was a 
 permanency. He was, in a way, settled for
 
 A EOMAUNT. 65 
 
 life, and had now some time to think of getting 
 married. 
 
 And to Minna Evolina he intimated as much. 
 But he did not call her Minna Evolina any longer, 
 she objected. Her Italian friends had said it was 
 provincial, and much too long. Evoli, she thought, 
 was better. It had been considered so for her lit- 
 erary work, and she wrote her name M. Evoli 
 Brattlesex. 
 
 She was as willing as he that at last their mar- 
 riage should be consummated so she said, and 
 she said also that so far in her life, her loved work 
 and her dear Thomas had been the only rivals in 
 her heart. 
 
 He noticed that she did not call him Tommett 
 any more, but told himself, like a philosopher, 
 that they must both expect changes. Their affec- 
 tion would be the same, of course; but they were 
 four years older than at their separation, and 
 would, of course, express themselves differently. 
 She wrote him she was going on a short tour into 
 Sicily with some friends. After that she was to 
 sail for America, and two of her Italian cousins 
 were to come with her. One of them was also a 
 writer. She called him Cousin Eduard. They 
 were to make the intended tour with the idea of 
 finding types for future fiction. 
 
 In fact, her later letters were full of types where 
 they used to be full of poems. She never seemed 
 to meet people any more. They were all "stud- 
 ies" or "types" or "characters." 
 
 Of course, he knew those were merely profes-
 
 66 IN LOVE'S DOMAINS. 
 
 sional terms, acquired through, her acquaintance 
 with journalism. They did not quite appear to 
 suit the clinging vine he had kissed when he 
 wanted to; but for all that, he knew that, aside 
 from her work, his M. Evoli would be the same. 
 
 He put on his newest suit when going to call on 
 her immediately on her arrival; and then he took 
 it off again and sat looking at it in doubt. 
 
 He was hard to fit in pantaloons. His frame 
 was all right, but it was lacking in the covering 
 of fleshy tissue, that gives voluptuous curves to 
 forms. The pantaloons of that suit looked better 
 than such garments usually did, yet he hesitated. 
 Should he indulge his vanity and wear them and 
 the coat to match, or should he wear the older 
 suit, that had grown used to him? Would she 
 not rather see him, the playmate of her youth, in 
 the less pretentious garb that bespoke ease to 
 himself, perhaps to her? He knew that ere they 
 met, she would have learned from her Aunt Lucy 
 the enviable position he now held; that where she 
 had left him an unknown student, she would find 
 him a personage spoken of with pride by his towns- 
 people. He knew her timid, clinging nature. 
 He remembered her nervousness and her impres- 
 sionability, that was equaled only by a phono- 
 graph. He knew that, in view of the many changes 
 that had passed dear Aunt Hennie the meeting 
 must be trying to her and he felt himself com- 
 forting her already, but not feeling quite so sure of 
 what he would say to her as he used to be; only she 
 must not be made more nervous by any show of the
 
 A ROMAUNT. 67 
 
 greatness that had come to him. No! she must 
 be made to forget the professor for a little while, 
 and remember only the student. 
 
 And he looked at the lengthwise crease down 
 the knees of the new broadcloths and sighed, and 
 picked up the old ones, on which the creases ran 
 crosswise, and pulled them on. 
 
 Do not think that a trifling sacrifice; it was not. 
 
 All the way along the placid street of Darling- 
 ton he pictured to himself their meeting. He 
 expected a few tears. He remembered that his 
 mother and his sister always wept when going 
 away on a journey or coming home from one. 
 His masculine mind had not, as yet, quite grasped 
 the reason; but he supposed they all did it. 
 
 He hoped her other aunt would have considera- 
 tion enough to let their meeting be a private one, 
 and keep herself out of the way. Aunt Hennie 
 had never been out of the way. And then he 
 remembered that dear Aunt Hennie was no doubt 
 stopping with relatives now who would gladly 
 give up all the room they had to her, he must not 
 harbor bitter memories, or be more ungenerous 
 than they, he would think only of the fond 
 creature waiting impatiently his coming. 
 
 And with that happy, idiotic delusion, he 
 sounded the knocker. 
 
 Jim, their colored man-of-all-work, opened the 
 door. 
 
 "Yes, sah, they's done come home," he 
 answered, with smiling pomposity, and was about 
 to precede our hero to the parlor, when he said:
 
 68 IN LOVE'S DOMAINS. 
 
 "I know the way. I will announce myself." 
 The door was slightly ajar, someone was touch- 
 ing the keys of the piano disjointedly, and he 
 could hear someone else laughing. 
 
 "Ah, yes, ma belle cousin," he heard a man 
 say, "it is as you say to us all very quaint 
 very old fashion your birthplace. But it is not 
 the oldness that inspires. The age of your 
 America is like the age of old garments it is 
 flimsy; but the age of Italy is the age of old 
 marble it is enduring." 
 
 "You are incorrigible, Cousin Eduard," said 
 the soft, sugary voice he remembered, "you 
 see nothing beautiful here because everything is 
 not in ruins." 
 
 " I venture to contradict a lady, since I see you 
 here," he said, and then another woman laughed 
 and said: 
 
 "I knew you would say that, Eduard, you 
 never could resist temptation. How you are to 
 exist here without peasant girls to flirt with, is, to 
 me, a puzzle, you and Evoli will, in desperation, 
 develop into the most extreme of type-hunters." 
 "I cannot flatter myself that I am to have the 
 monopoly of our cousin now," said the man in a 
 dreamy, distressed tone, "there is a fiance here 
 you must know, together they will go hunting 
 for types, and alone will Eduard be forgot." 
 "What is he like?" asked the woman's voice 
 again. "You are so sly, you have not even 
 shown me his picture. Have you one? Is he 
 handsome? I know his profession, he is very
 
 A ROMAtJNT. 69 
 
 learned, is lie not? so your dear aunt told me. 
 Shall we see him soon? will he help you to hunt 
 for types, or will he furnish you one himself, tell 
 us all about him." 
 
 Our hero did not intend listening at first. He 
 only wanted to know if she who held him nearest 
 and dearest was inside the parlor door. But the 
 man's voice had checked his entrance for a 
 moment, he hesitated, and was lost. He was 
 not a society man, he had no time for its 
 trifles. His daring was undoubted when its 
 application was needed for Ms professional work, 
 but he shrank from meeting strangers with the 
 timidity of a recluse. Hearing the conversation 
 made him wish he had kept on the other panta- 
 loons, and then he wished he had let Jim announce 
 him, he knew Jim would have given him his full 
 title, and that might help overbalance the cross- 
 wise creases of the old ones, and then he slid 
 away a little from the parlor door, and wondered 
 if he could get out the back way without being 
 seen or commented on. He could return later 
 with new clothes and more confidence. 
 
 In the dread of meeting foreign strangers, under 
 existing circumstances, he could not remember as 
 he got out the back door just what the errand 
 was that had taken him there, he tried to think 
 of it as he grabbed his hat and umbrella and 
 couldn't. 
 
 On the back porch he met Jim with an armful 
 of wood and a broom, Jim nearly dropped them 
 both in his surprise. "Why why, Marse Po-
 
 70 IN LOVE'S DOMAINS. 
 
 fessah, yo' not done gone a' ready 'thout seem' 
 Miss Minna Ev'lina an' the quality folks!'' 
 " Miss Minna Ev'lina" brought back to our hero, 
 remembrance of what he had come for. 
 
 " Ah, certainly not, Jim," lie said, in a shaky, 
 trying- to-get-out-of -it sort of a way. "But I 
 thought that as well, understanding, as I may 
 say, that you that I in fact, that your young 
 mistress had company, I thought that perhaps 
 perhaps you had better announce me." 
 
 He had not intended to say that at all, when he 
 began, and Jim looked at him as if he thought 
 the study of other men's brains had softened his 
 own, for he kept his eye on him as he carefully 
 laid down the wood and the broom, and gingerly 
 edged past him into the hall. 
 
 " Marse Dootah Pofessah Sefton!" he announced, 
 with as much pomposity of manner as he was 
 wont to use when master of ceremonies. Perhaps 
 the tenacity with which the Professor clung to 
 his hat, when Jim tried to get it out of his lingers, 
 had something to do with it. Everything seemed 
 awful quiet as he went in the door, and Jim si- 
 dled out. He had heard laughing a second before. 
 
 Then some one came toward him from the 
 piano, she looked taller than Minna Evolina had 
 looked, but she said: 
 
 "My dear Professor, how charming to meet 
 you once more!" 
 
 Her voice and her eyes were the same, other- 
 wise it was not his Minna Evolina it was Evoli. 
 He had not imagined the shortening of a name
 
 A ROMAUNT. 71 
 
 would have made such a difference. She intro- 
 duced her cousins to Professor Sefton, they were 
 both charmed, so they said. The Professor said: 
 " How do you do?" and that's about all he did 
 say to them. Cousin Eduard had long mus- 
 taches, and a Byronic collar. Cousin Agnace, his 
 sister, was about forty a slim, long-drawn-out 
 forty, with the kittenish brightness of sixteen. 
 She skipped from one window to another, and 
 rustled her starchy skirts, and wondered "if 
 they would really allow her to pluck some of the 
 pears from the trees her own self, instead of hav- 
 ing a servant do it. Yes? how charming; and 
 would dear Eduard go with her to the trees? Ah! 
 he was such an angel of a brother; and would 
 the learned Professor pardon them each, that 
 they retired into the garden for one little while? 
 Yes? and her Evoli must not miss her not long 
 would she remain away." 
 
 And the learned Professor excused her, with 
 inaudible thanks, and the angel of a brother put 
 a shawl around the giddy young creature's 
 shoulders, and looked languishingly at Evoli, and 
 bowed profoundly to the learned Professor, and 
 then they took themselves off with more ceremony 
 than people were used to in Darlington houses. 
 And Minna Evolina and Tommett had the room 
 to themselves. 
 
 So far there had been no tears, no nervousness, 
 and he felt as if all that idea of her being impres- 
 sed too deeply by the change that had been, was a 
 mistaken calculation, and noticing the stylish
 
 72 IN LOVE'S DOMAINS. 
 
 dressing of herself and cousins, he wished she 
 knew about the other suit he could have worn if 
 he wanted to. 
 
 But he did not tell her. He looked at her as 
 lovingly as he could, while he wished she would 
 wear her hair lower on her neck, and show the 
 shape of her head more. It was very finely 
 formed, idealistic organs well developed, form 
 and color much above the average, the entire 
 formation of the cranium denoting advanced in- 
 tellectual possibilities, a good study; he was so 
 much interested in its manifestations that he for- 
 got to say anything after the other two went out; 
 until, after a while, he realized there had been a 
 long silence, and that his Evoli was looking a little 
 uneasy at the directness of his gaze that was at- 
 tracted to her height of forehead. Then he tried 
 to say something in a careless, nonchalant man- 
 ner, but could not think of anything. He jingled 
 nervously some odd joints of finger-bones, that 
 had been forgotten in his coat pocket, and at last 
 he said: "My dear Minna Evolina," and she 
 said : * ' My dear Professor. ' * 
 
 And then he let go of the finger-bones in his 
 pocket and reached for her hand, and got it, and 
 said tenderly: 
 
 " How much you have grown." 
 
 And then they had a nice, long visit with each 
 other, as the old ladies say, and he told her of the 
 marriages and deaths, and his own acquired hon- 
 ors; and she told him of the new types she had 
 been making a study of lately, and that she
 
 A EOMATJNT. 73 
 
 expected to find some good material through her 
 return to America; the impressions of American 
 characteristics would be so much clearer to her 
 now when they formed such a contrast to the for- 
 eign element she had been surrounded by for so 
 long. And he told her of his collection of skulls, 
 and at that point in the conversation the cousin 
 with the mustaches and the cousin with the petti- 
 coats came in again, and the timid creature 
 declared her terror of the skulls, yet, "If her 
 dear Eduard, her dearest Evoli, and the learned 
 Professor were of the party, she would go to see 
 them. Yes, she would be charmed, such a curi- 
 osity of a study! Yes, she would be disconsolate 
 to leave America without having seen this most 
 grand collection." 
 
 And it was arranged that they were all to visit 
 the Professor's collection very soon. Cousin 
 Eduard expressed himself as profoundly inter- 
 ested. "What possibilities in such a study! 
 what characters could be evolved from it, what 
 types might not one find through such a collec- 
 tion!" 
 
 And then Cousin Eduard looked at Cousin 
 Evoli, and then at the Professor, and she looked 
 at the Professor, too, and held out her hand when 
 he left and told him to come often to see her to 
 come whenever he felt like it, and he said he 
 would, and wished his hair wasn't quite so 
 thin when he saw Cousin Eduard toss back the 
 flowing locks from his poetic brow. And then he 
 went home and dusted the skulls and wondered
 
 74 IN LOVE'S DOMAINS. 
 
 how it would seem to have a wife to help him in 
 his work of love, and that is the account of the 
 day when Tommett met for the first time his 
 Evoli. 
 
 She did not call him Tommett at all, not even 
 when they were alone, which did not happen 
 often. She did let him kiss her, but something 
 kept him from having the same confidence in the 
 venture that had of old been an every-day affair. 
 She asked him not to call her Minna Evolina, 
 especially before folks, she preferred him using 
 the one that had been her trade mark in litera- 
 ture. 
 
 He asked her when she was going to change her 
 trade mark for his, and she looked at him with a 
 sigh, a happy sigh of course, and said, pensively: 
 
 " You still remember so fondly the loves of our 
 childhood?" 
 
 He said he did, and he said it decidedly. "The 
 loves of our childhood" was the term she had 
 applied several times to that sweet fever of fond- 
 ness that only time cures, and the repetition of 
 it was aggravating to him. He could not always 
 think of it himself in the present tense, not with 
 the same degree of absorption that it had been. 
 But it was not comforting to know that the 
 natural course of events made her look at it 
 in the same light, first for types, afterward for 
 Tommett. 
 
 And when he said the love of his childhood 
 still bound him, and asked again as to the wed- 
 ding day, she answered sweetly and passively:
 
 A EOMAUNT. 75 
 
 "Whenever you say, dear." And he said next 
 week. 
 
 That was the time when she told him he had no 
 consideration that he was proposing an impossi- 
 bility. And then Cousin Eduard lounged in and 
 told Cousin Evoli he was ready to drive her for 
 the ferns she wanted, and would Professor Sefton 
 honor them by his accompaniment? 
 
 Professor would not; he was not a wrathy man, 
 but that confounded Eduard with his long, sleepy 
 eyes was a cause of irritation to him that day. 
 Leutz holds that the Jews have more gall than 
 other men, and through it there is preserved that 
 individuality of feature that makes them a marked 
 race. Leutz was one of the standards for whom 
 the Professor had an admiration seldom contest- 
 ing his theories, but going home that day he 
 debated whether Leutz would not have made an 
 exception in favor of Cousin Eduard had he been 
 so unfortunate as to have known him. From 
 localizing symptoms that made 1 ' themselves mani- 
 fest from day to day, he decided that that ideal- 
 istic lounger had an amount of gall equal to 
 preserving intact more unadulterated individual 
 impudence than he could think possible in one 
 specimen of the genus homo. 
 
 Evoli's willingness that the marriage should be 
 before a great while, took a doubt from his mind 
 that had perplexed him sometimes. She had not 
 appeared to enjoy his collection as he had hoped 
 Minna Evolina would have done that of course 
 was a cause for regret. She remarked one day
 
 76 IN LOVE'S DOMAINS. 
 
 that of course he would have a room at the col- 
 lege for them when married it would seem so 
 like a charnel house to have them in one's private 
 abode. That set him to thinking seriously. It 
 made him remember the words of Lavater, who 
 said: "If thou hast an almost spherical head 
 contract no alliance with a long, high forehead." 
 Evoli had a high forehead a long head. He had 
 an almost spherical head. It never had occurred 
 to him before to compare them. But it recurred 
 to him several times in the next few weeks. 
 
 And when she spoke in that way of his collec- 
 tion he felt like asking if she intended to have a 
 separate house for her types and her dictionaries. 
 But he didn't; he reflected that such a remark 
 might jar on the sweetness of their affection that 
 had been. 
 
 He was much more careful of his appearance 
 than of old the business suit that had been his 
 was put away, and he looked as smart in broad- 
 cloth and silk hat as that limber-looking Italian 
 did in his long hair and wide collar though, per- 
 haps, not so picturesque. He did not care for 
 that, he preferred to look majestic and dignified 
 which he did. One would have known he was an 
 M. D. or an LL. D. to look at him. He looked 
 like a man of importance so his mother told 
 him. 
 
 Evoli did not speak of his appearance as Minna 
 Evolina had done. She never compared him to the 
 oak any more. Perhaps she forgot it. And he 
 wondered sometimes how he ever had got the idea
 
 A EOMAUNT. 77 
 
 that she was a vine and made to cling. She had 
 evidently dropped the habit of clinging while 
 in Europe, for he saw no manifestations of it. 
 
 The marriage was settled on for six months 
 ahead. Her Italian cousins were disconsolate at 
 having to leave before the event the Professor 
 was not. He was in hopes that when they were 
 gone, he might hear a few conversations that were 
 not confined to " types." 
 
 He was hurrying to complete a work on his 
 beloved study before the momentous occasion, 
 and wished often that Evoli had a more heart-felt 
 interest in it, for reasons. 
 
 The series of learned articles he was preparing, 
 were to be illustrated, each illustration was to be 
 of a distinctly different character of a head. He 
 had already some very fine ones made, one of a 
 Calmuc Tartar, that suggested a very short mis- 
 sing link; another, of an East Indian, whose 
 pointed skull was a thing of pride to a craniolo- 
 gist; a magnificent specimen of a negro, who 
 looked like a black Ajax with his head shaved; 
 and a once noted politician, who was so bald he 
 did not need to be shaved, had kindly let the Pro- 
 fessor use his head as an illustration of theories 
 advanced. His head had a decided likeness to 
 Socrates. There were many others, people of all 
 races, all colors. But the ideal head of the lot 
 was one he had spent considerable thought over. 
 It was not easy to get. 
 
 Evoli had a head that would do. He had 
 noticed the shape of it immediately on her return,
 
 78 IN LOVE'S DOMAINS. 
 
 and had been lost in admiration of it many times 
 after. He laid awake several nights thinking 
 what a magnificent specimen it would make if 
 only that heavy covering of hair was out of the 
 way. 
 
 Another statement of Lavater's occurred to him 
 in conjunction with that idea. It was that "vanity 
 and pride is the general character of all women! 1 ' 
 He supposed Lavater was right, in fact, he was 
 pretty confident of it. And he believed she set 
 considerable store by that hair. He had heard 
 Cousin Agnace exclaim over the charming way in 
 which it would kink up on wet days, and he 
 remembered Evoli had looked pleased, and de- 
 clared her dear cousin was flattering her. 
 
 Of course it would be a bit of a sacrifice to part 
 with, especially before the wedding. He thought 
 of that; but if he, her future husband, the man 
 who would have to look at her most, requested it, 
 could she refuse? Not if her affection was what 
 she had said it always would be, he decided. He 
 remembered how often she had said, "Put my love 
 to any test, dear Tommett, and see if I do not 
 stand it, and maintain my maiden vow. Even 
 though you drank or chewed tobacco, I would 
 none the less look on myself as your wife. Put 
 my affection to any test if you doubt." 
 
 He remembered a few of those passionate 
 appeals, made before she went away, and he 
 decided that he would comply with her request. 
 
 She was not in the house when he called. Jim 
 said she was in the garden, writing. He went to
 
 A KOMAUNT. 79 
 
 the garden. What place so fitting to the meeting 
 of lovers? he said to himself, and looked in the 
 hall mirror as he passed it, and smoothed the hair 
 forward a little from the back of his head, and 
 then he sauntered out to find her. 
 
 He could not see her, but in one of the arbors 
 a rose arbor he found her writing materials. 
 There was her portfolio and the ink, and on the 
 bench beside them, were some loose sheets of her 
 MSS. He knew that wherever she was, she 
 would come back there for them. So he sat 
 down, and for pastime picked up some of the 
 sheets to see what she was doing he was confi- 
 dent she would not object, they had read too 
 many together for that. 
 
 The first of the story was not there, but his sur- 
 prise and delight were great when he found by 
 those fragments that the subject of it was in part 
 Phrenology, or Craniology, he could not quite 
 make out which, but there was enough to show 
 that the dear girl had entered more deeply into a 
 sympathy with his beloved work than he had ever 
 guessed. She had evidently meant it as a sweet 
 surprise to him. He felt as he made the discovery 
 that she was once more his Minna Evolina. He 
 could not make out much of the plot because of 
 parts missing, but there was a craniologist in the 
 story; an old man, he imagined. It did not say 
 so, but from the little bits of description and his 
 way of speaking it could not be a young one. 
 And the old man fancied himself in love with a 
 girl, but he really was only in love with the
 
 80 IN LOVE'S DOMAINS. 
 
 skulls. That seemed to be the idea of it as far 
 as lie could gather, and he thought it must be an 
 original one. But whatever the merits of the 
 story may have been, it pleased him just then, 
 for it showed an interest in his study that he had 
 not suspected, and if his appreciation of it was 
 so great, all the more probability that she would 
 enter with enthusiasm into the proposition he had 
 come to make, and he was in quite a state of 
 elation when he heard her voice. She was talk- 
 ing to some one in the garden, but she was coming 
 closer, so he waited. 
 
 " I can not use it," she said, as if she was wor- 
 ried, "and I am so sorry, it is the cleverest char- 
 acter story I have written." 
 
 " Can not you change it one little bit, enough 
 not to be known?" And the Professor, who had 
 risen to go to her, stopped, for it was Cousin 
 Eduard's voice. "No, I can not," and the tone 
 was more despondent than before, "if I change 
 it I lose the character. It would no longer be a 
 distinct type." 
 
 The Professor sat down again when he heard 
 that word, he was tired of it. 
 
 " So unfortunate!" said the slick, smooth voice 
 again, "ah, ma belle cousin, why were you not 
 more wise?" 
 
 "How was I to know?" and she seemed more 
 vexed. " I did not know very much, any way, 
 I was a silly little creature. It is my own char- 
 acter that is changed, not not any other person's. 
 I tell you the truth, I used to think that person
 
 A KOMAITNT. 81 
 
 very admirable, because of the learning, I sup- 
 pose, that was so far beyond my own then, and 
 it made me do and say all sorts of foolish things 
 that I do not like to remember. But it will all 
 come right no doubt when I get myself to think- 
 ing in the same way again, and I will in time, of 
 course." 
 
 "How lamentable that you are made to see but, 
 a type, instead of what you once did see," said 
 the smooth voice again. " It is a great pity when 
 we have to quarrel with a too clear vision." 
 
 "I would rather not talk about it anymore, 
 Eduard," said Evoli, "it does not seem right, 
 only you saw the story and the the sketches I 
 made, and you know what it all meant. I really 
 could not help writing it, the idea was so humor- 
 ous it was a pleasure to write it up." 
 
 "My poor cousin! if you are not given that. 
 sympathy and understanding which your soul 
 requires I tremble for you! You are so sensitive 
 to impressions." 
 
 "Say no more, Eduard," and Evoli spoke as 
 if she was studying for tragedy; "do not grieve 
 for me in Italy, I will live, I must, that my work 
 may live." 
 
 "And the story?" 
 
 "We must burn it." 
 
 "My brave cousin! you speak the words with 
 courage but I see you look pale. Yes, at once 
 you should burn it, and bury with it the memory 
 wait! I think I have a match in the pocket of 
 this, my waistcoat,"
 
 82 IN LOVE'S DOMAINS. 
 
 " There are some sheets of it on my desk, will 
 you bring them?' ' 
 
 "Here to the garden?" 
 
 "Yes yes, the idea of the story came to me in 
 the garden, let me bury it among the flowers. 
 The rest of it is in the rose arbor, come to me 
 there." 
 
 The Professor was rather muddled at all the pre- 
 amble that he did not understand. He felt antag- 
 onistic when he thought of that fellow's sympathy 
 that was evidently uncalled for he could not 
 discover any reason for sympathy. He even felt 
 like stepping out and asking what he meant by 
 it, and telling him he was a meddling jackanapes. 
 And then he remembered that Cousin Eduard, 
 though lazy, was muscular, there might be a 
 scene, Evoli might be frightened, and he sat 
 still. 
 
 Evoli came into the arbor looking pensive, she 
 said the surprise of seeing him there was most 
 agreeable. And then she looked through the 
 rose leaves to see if people on the other side 
 would be visible to the naked eye. And she 
 must have concluded not, for she said again that 
 it was most agreeable. She sat down on the 
 bench with the portfolio between them, and he 
 lifted it and slid up closer. 
 
 He intended asking what she and her cousin 
 were talking about, but when he saw her he for- 
 got all about it. He could see and think of 
 nothing but the well-shaped cranium, and the 
 development of ideality needed for that illustra-
 
 A ROMAUNT. 83 
 
 tion. And he said lovingly, "You remember 
 dear Min my dear Evoli, how often we made 
 promises that should our devotion be put to the 
 test we should not fail do you remember?'' 
 
 " Yes," Evoli thought she did. 
 
 The reply was not very encouraging since she 
 only "thought" it. The Professor sighed a sigh 
 for the past adoration that had no suppositions, 
 it had known all that was, all that would be, 
 through all eternity of love. 
 
 But this was not a moment for retrospection 
 it was business, that Lead meant a good many 
 dollars to him through the interest it would 
 awaken in the eyes of the public when they knew 
 that a beautiful woman had sacrificed her beauty 
 for awhile for the furtherance of this grand edu- 
 cational achievement, so he went on 
 
 " The time has come, dear Evoli, when I must 
 put your love to a test; when I have to ask of you 
 what may at first seem like a sacrifice, but when 
 looked at from a philanthropic point of view 
 that of benefit to many will, I am sure, be one to 
 awaken your warmest approval." 
 
 She pulled two or three rings off her fingers 
 absent-mindedly and tried them on her thumbs, 
 and finding they would not fit, she slid them back 
 where they belonged, and said, languidly: 
 
 "What is it?" 
 
 "Would you, dearest, to prove the devotion 
 you have so often avowed, to glorify the name 
 you are one day to share ' ' 
 
 She looked at him when he got that far; it was
 
 84 IN LOVE'3 DOMAINS. 
 
 a look of curiosity, but not of pleased, reassuring 
 curiosity. He felt himself weaken a little under 
 it, and then made an earnest attempt to put the 
 request in the words that would impress her most 
 favorably; but the words were slow coming, and 
 she said, rather impatiently: 
 
 " Well, Professor, what in the world is it'i ' 
 
 There was another spasmodic effort to find some 
 glossing, glowing phrase in which to express his 
 plea, and succeeded in saying, pathetically: 
 
 "Would you would you shave your head? " 
 
 She started as if to run, but he caught her and 
 held her while he tried to explain. She must have 
 really been very timid and more nervous than he 
 had thought possible, for she imagined him insane. 
 And it was not until he had taken from his pocket 
 the pictures of the Calmuc Tartar and the Ethio- 
 pian that she could be made to understand what 
 he meant by the request. And even then he was 
 not sure that the proof had won him any favor. 
 
 " And you really anticipated doing me the honor 
 of placing my head with such a collection? " 
 
 " Such a collection," spoken in that tone, is not 
 complimentary to the author of said collection. 
 The Professor felt the sting. He wanted to tell 
 her she should be proud of being selected as a 
 specimen, but he didn't. He told her firmly, with 
 the old manner she had admired once, that an 
 attempt to educate the masses was a subject for 
 commendation, not sarcasm. 
 
 He thought that oak-like dignity might im- 
 press her, but it didn't. She said she " did not
 
 A ROMAUNT. 85 
 
 fancy that the masses would ever hear of the 
 attempt." 
 
 That was unkind, but he bore it, and heaped 
 coals of fire on her head by saying: 
 
 "Evoli, my soon-to-be wife! if it was to please 
 you, I would gladly shave every hair off my head 
 without question." 
 
 And all she said was 
 
 " You would not need to." 
 
 The sentence was brief, but full of meaning. He. 
 had his hat in his hand. He put it on when she 
 said that. 
 
 And just then Cousin Eduard's voice sounded 
 on the other side of the arbor: 
 
 "Are you there, my Cousin Evoli?" he asked. 
 " Here are the leaves, also some drawings of them 
 that I found there. Agnace calls me; she must 
 not see them, neither your betrothed; they tell me 
 he is in the house. I thrust the papers through 
 the hedge, also a match. I return to you quickly. 
 Adieu." 
 
 Evoli grabbed for the papers so quickly it 
 aroused the Professor's interest in them. He 
 grabbed for them, too. There was no word spoken, 
 but failing in getting the papers, she reached for 
 the portfolio; so did he. Between them one of 
 the bits of paper fell to the ground. He recovered 
 it. It was a pencil drawing. Did I tell you 
 she could draw? She could. The sketch was 
 hers. 
 
 "How dare you look at my work when I give 
 you no permission?" she asked, trying to reach
 
 86 IN LOVE'S DOMAINS. 
 
 for it, but he was just tall enough to keep it 
 beyond her. 
 
 "A man can be pardoned, surely, for wanting to 
 look at his own picture," he said. 
 
 When he made that remark her visage became 
 inflamed by the superabundance of blood carried 
 up to it that is, she blushed. But the blush was 
 not of the kind that is caused by the emotion of 
 love, such as had once colored Minna Evolina's 
 cheek. Far from it. This congestion medi- 
 cally speaking was a secondary result of spas- 
 modic contraction of the respiratory muscles of 
 the larynx, accompanying clinching of the teeth, 
 leading to incipient asphyxia. She did not 
 speak, however, she just sat down. 
 
 The drawing was a caricature, but there was in 
 it enough of a likeness to recognize himself. He 
 was leaning with his elbows on a table, and in his 
 hands he held a skull over which he was gloating 
 like a lover on newly discovered charms. A lady 
 sat opposite with a breakfast cap on her head. 
 She offered him a cup of coffee with a love-lorn 
 look in her eyes; he did not see her, he was 
 oblivious to all but the hollow-eyed specimen in 
 his hands. Yes, there was his bald head and his 
 thin neck, the latter craned forward to make it 
 look thinner than ever. 
 
 "Very good," he said, in commendation, "a 
 good illustration of the scene described. Oh, yes, 
 I read it while waiting for you to get through 
 talking to Cousin Eduard. I know about the 
 whole story now, the misunderstood souls and the
 
 A ROMATJNT. 87 
 
 fallen ideals, and the whole business. I am glad 
 you have found some recompense in a type; my 
 gladness is only exceeded by my aifection." 
 
 He had begun coolly and calmly, determined to 
 preserve his dignity. He would let her see he 
 had some live brains, though he did study dead 
 ones. But the unlucky reference to Cousin 
 Eduard brought him wrathy memories. He 
 wanted to fight some one the man, first of all, 
 who had seen that caricature, and his voice rose 
 several tones. He felt that it sounded even 
 shrill an echo of his mother's when she was 
 angry. 
 
 " Affection!" she retorted, in answer to his last 
 statement, ' ' how can you speak of affection when 
 you don' t know what it means? You! why you 
 would shave my head, and no doubt boil me 
 alive if you wanted my skeleton, but you can't 
 have it!" 
 
 "And I don't want it!" he said, energetically. 
 " I don't want even the skeleton of a woman who 
 has so little feeling as to caricature what should 
 be her dearest emotions, and sell them at so much 
 a page. Such a woman can never be wife or 
 mother to Prof. Thomas Q. Sef ton's children." 
 
 And he straightened himself up and looked at 
 her with a calm, decided gaze, that told her he was 
 not to be persuaded, even if she wanted to. 
 
 He did not learn if she wanted to, he does not 
 know yet. She picked up her garden hat and 
 said, she had never proposed to be wife or 
 mother to his children, and asked him how many
 
 88 IN LOVE'S DOMAINS. 
 
 he had, and then walked away before he could 
 answer. 
 
 And that was the end of an absorbing affection 
 that defied change; a love that was jnst as intense as 
 any other love even one in a story. The Professor 
 in it was a class-mate of the Professor who writes 
 this, they were very much together, hence the 
 knowledge of this romance. 
 
 To satisfy the minds of the readers who always 
 want to know the history of people into the next 
 generation, I will state that Evoli turned her 
 back on Darlington and went back to Italy. She 
 and Cousin Eduard soon after that decided to 
 put in their lives studying types together. They 
 have found a half dozen or so on whom they 
 would have to pay taxes if all one's live stock 
 came under taxation. They no doubt welcome 
 them as heirs to their trade marks and glory. I 
 suppose they call them all Eduard and Evoli, as 
 no other names would be romantic enough for 
 those ethereal souls. I doubt if you could find a 
 Tommett among them. 
 
 The Professor awakened from the love of his 
 childhood just in time to realize the discontent it 
 might have led him to; he never ventured so 
 near a yoke again. He still lives in tranquil 
 enjoyment of his collection that has gained a 
 reputation satisfying all his hopes. 
 
 Now you will see this is not a case of forced 
 separation of fond hearts, there was no adverse 
 influence as the cause of that love that just got 
 sick and died a natural death, unmourned. In
 
 A KOMAUNT. 89 
 
 the beginning it had been an illusion the sort of 
 illusions that won't wear. I have not found any 
 of them yet that did. It was simply the natural 
 result of lives and people that grow older and 
 away from the things they liked to play with as 
 children; we are progressive, we want new toys, 
 new dolls. Some people hug their old ones 
 through life and pretend they don't see the noses 
 that get battered, and the paint that is chipped 
 off the cheeks. Those two might have done the 
 same thing if it had not been for the accident of 
 the types and the skulls; no doubt they both 
 congratulated themselves on the accident, the 
 writer knows one of them did. 
 
 This story, as I said before, is told with an 
 object. It may or may not convince my col- 
 leagues, but it was the only one I knew, and I 
 had to tell it or say nothing. 
 
 I state again that this is the only romance in 
 the brain of the author. I do so that there may 
 be no requests for more from a greedy public. I 
 do not intend to pose as a romance writer, and 
 have not time to answer letters from people I 
 don't know. I have no autographs to spare, and 
 don't know any verses for albums.
 
 GALEED. 
 
 THE BOHEMIAN'S STORY. 
 
 CHAPTER I. 
 
 " This heap is a witness between me and thce this day. There 
 fore was the name of it called Galeed. 
 
 "AndMizpah; for he said, The Lord watch between me and 
 thee when we are absent oue from another." Genesis xxxi, 
 48, 49. 
 
 "And will you not come with us, Dale 
 really?" 
 
 "Not if you will excuse me. I stopped only 
 to tell you I felt like trying to catch up with some 
 lagging correspondence to-night." 
 
 "But think! the last week of the season, and 
 if you really go mooning out into the country 
 as you intend, you will be buried out of sight of 
 the drama for weeks to come. " 
 
 "I should not mind much if you would share 
 my exile," and the man's hand lay a moment on 
 the warm whiteness of the girl's arm. A pretty 
 arm and a pretty girl with her large, brown eyes 
 glancing at him witchingly, and the green, foamy 
 stuff of her evening dress enhancing the warmth 
 of her blonde hair, and the red lips turned toward 
 him in a pert way that was a half challenge. 
 
 (90)
 
 GALEED. 91 
 
 "Would you not? how singular." But the 
 mirror opposite the steps where they stood told 
 the clear eyes that it was not at all singular. 
 
 "Why wait any longer, Blanche?" he asked, 
 persuasively; "my probation is lasting until I 
 begin to feel old." 
 
 "Well, you see, Dale, our plans, our trip to 
 the other side, would be broken up, and oh, well, 
 so many things." 
 
 " Yes, I know so many things," he repeated. 
 
 The brown eyes glanced at him curiously was 
 there any significance in his tone, or was it only 
 her imagination? 
 
 "And I know that in reality you are longing 
 to get away to your scribbling," she hastened to 
 say half-teasingly, "and all by yourself too, 
 though your gallantry will not allow you to say 
 so. You should thank me for taking myself 
 off your hands for so much longer." 
 
 ' ' Should I? " he asked rather moodily ; ' ' well, I 
 do not think I am, and wait a moment Blanche 
 did you say 'yes' that night because you cared for 
 me, or only because that light in the conservatory 
 was so romantically dim? rather the orthodox 
 surroundings for proposal and acceptance. I 
 remember you had on a lovely new dress, and 
 were so well satisfied with yourself, and, there- 
 fore, with me. Was it all the fault of the sug- 
 gestive surroundings, or " 
 
 "Nonsense!" laughed the girl, "what an 
 imagination you have; a rather ironical one, 
 to-night."
 
 92 IN LOVE'S DOMAINS. 
 
 Just then a voice from below called "Blanche 
 Athol, how long are you going to keep us 
 waiting?" 
 
 ' There is Nellie calling can't you come? Oh, 
 those stupid letters; are you sure one of them is 
 not to that mysterious individual, Mrs. Holmes? 
 No? Well I am not jealous of the rest, so I will 
 leave you." 
 
 " If I thought you cared enough to have any 
 jealousy in the matter, I would feel reassured in 
 many ways," he said quite earnestly, detaining 
 her an instant with his hand touching the petite 
 waist. 
 
 "Then be assured," she answered, with a co- 
 quettish turn of her head, "I am ferociously 
 jealous. I am in the last stages of infatuation, and 
 to prove it is any one looking? there! " 
 
 "Blanche!" called the voice again, "Please 
 remember there are reflecting mirrors on that 
 landing, and I have an excellent view of Dale 
 and yourself from here. If you will only stand 
 still a few moments I will call Mr. Haverly to 
 help me enjoy it." 
 
 The two on the landing drew apart quickly. 
 
 "Is Dick Haverly going with you to the 
 theatre?" he asked, rather sharply. 
 
 "Why, yes, he was to come for Nellie, you 
 know." 
 
 "Was he? No, I did not know. But of late 
 I've been drifting into the conviction that there 
 are several things in the world I do not know." 
 
 "Really? how clever! But if nothing else, you
 
 GALEED. 93 
 
 must know that we will miss the first act of the 
 comedy if I keep them waiting any longer. Good- 
 night, and happy dreams of Mrs. Holmes." 
 
 And laughing in a tinkling, silvery way, with 
 mocking face turned upward toward him, the 
 girl ran down the steps, he watching her in the 
 mirror until she vanished. 
 
 "The first act of the comedy," he muttered, 
 sauntering down the hotel corridor to his own 
 room. "I wonder if it is not rather the begin- 
 ning of a farce for both of us the time of action 
 required for it merely an existence." 
 
 CHAPTEK II. 
 
 " Fool! " said my muse to me, 
 
 " Look into your heart and write." 
 
 PHILIP SIDNEY. 
 
 HOTEL ARLINGTON, NEW YORK CITY. 
 
 MY DEAR GEORGE: I suppose you think me a 
 neglectful sort of fellow, that I have not written 
 you for so long. But be a little lenient and I will 
 try to make amends. I shall go to you for a few 
 weeks, if possible, this spring. I am anxious to 
 take my "outing" away from the social swim, 
 and what spot was ever quite so restful as your 
 parsonage. But it will be for only a short time. 
 I have work planned for the summer that will 
 take me to other localities. 
 
 I would go to you to-night if I could away 
 from the gas, arid the glitter, and the tinkle of
 
 94 IN LOVE'S DOMAINS. 
 
 things hollow how we would talk away into the 
 "wee sma' hours!" I think a good talk with you 
 to-night would take from me a little of the tired- 
 ness that comes to us all at times. I have just 
 got through with a piece of work I have been at 
 for three months, and it has left me with a half 
 feeling of elation, and a half sorrow at part- 
 ing with its companionship. It has seemed for 
 so long only my own, now it belongs to the 
 public. 
 
 I say only my own, but I think, yes I am quite 
 sure, it has seemed to belong partly to one other. 
 I wonder if you, from your safe-guard of an 
 ideal love that left earth too early for its human 
 consummation, can understand a mortal like my- 
 self who never seems sure of an anchor? Yes, 
 though it is unlike yourself, yet I think you will 
 understand. You have understood me all my 
 life more than any other. 
 
 Do you remember the plans we used to make as 
 to our lives when I would find a soul that was to 
 me what my sister was to you? I think over those 
 past hopes very, very often of late, and I wonder 
 if that perfect love of yours and hers was excep- 
 tional in lives. I see nothing, have known noth- 
 ing like it, and yet I have wanted, needed just 
 such companionship often. If it could be given 
 me, if only for a season, I believe I could be lifted 
 above much in my own nature that is gross. 
 
 This looks like a confession of something more 
 than usually evil in me; no, I do not intend it so. 
 But to you I have ever gone, since as a dreamy,
 
 GALEED. 95 
 
 untrained boy, I submitted to you my first lurid 
 attempts at drama, my first efforts at verse or 
 fiction; then I did not know enough to disguise 
 from you my inner nature, and its complex 
 wants, and now the knowledge that you under- 
 stand and sympathize, brings me to you just the 
 same. It may be my likeness to Julia has gained 
 for me an affection from you that is closer than 
 that of most men. But if a love for a woman and 
 from a woman, such as I used to dream of, should 
 ever have been mine, I think I would have gone 
 to her as I do to you with these letters. 
 
 I suppose you are disapproving of this, that 
 you say, " why do you not go to your fiancee?" 
 And you are right, only earnest as my desire in 
 that direction is for helpful companionship, I 
 find only one side of my nature appealed to there, 
 only one side of my nature cared for or under- 
 stood. Do you think I am looking at it only 
 from a selfish point of view? I am not altogether 
 so bad as that. But I have slowly come to the 
 conclusion that she needs me not at all. In fact, 
 we could drift along contentedly together, but 
 that we are necessary to each other no. 
 
 Why then these relations? Well, for want of a 
 pilot, souls drift into strange harbors. And 
 when you questioned Alex Dorman of her, I 
 think his words would help the explanation some- 
 what when he said, "well, Blanche is not so intel- 
 lectual or strictly beautiful if you come to analyze 
 her attractions, but she charms people." She is 
 delightful in many ways, and I am irritated when
 
 98 IN LOVE'S DOMAINS. 
 
 I leave her feeling a want unfulfilled, mentally or 
 soulfully. Do I expect too much? I fear so. 
 Your love, my cousin, has given me a glimpse of 
 an ideal, and I feel myself and my own affections 
 so far below it. 
 
 Should I try to explain this to Blanche, I can 
 fancy her amusement as she would ask me how 
 my money was lost, at cards or a horse-race. 
 Well, I have been lord of myself in this affair, 
 and have come to the conclusion I have a fool for 
 my master. 
 
 I wrote in my last about the acquaintance I 
 have made, by letter, of the artist who has illus- 
 trated my book just finished. I wish you were 
 with me to-night, I think I could read you some 
 of those letters received from her of late. Per- 
 haps they would help show you the reason for 
 this want of higher life, higher companionship. 
 The letters began simply on business matters 
 concerning the illustrations, and I am not sure I 
 can tell you with pen and unresponsive paper just 
 how I am affected by this sympathy with which 
 she has entered into the spirit of my work it lias 
 been a revelation to me a puzzling pleasure. I 
 seem in her thoughts to read a double of myself, 
 but of myself purified, without the alloy that at 
 times has seemed to weight me down. I find 
 myself wondering much as to her personality, 
 though I do not believe I ever want to see or 
 know her saVe through those letters with their 
 exquisite touches of feeling, and their width of 
 vision that suggest the spectacles of sorrow. I
 
 GALEED. 97 
 
 have an idea that she is not young. I do not 
 know why I feel so, but her style of thought is 
 not in my mind co-existent with the youth of 
 woman. It is to me like the youth of a man 
 before the world's evil has claimed him. 
 
 She is married, I know that by her title, but it 
 is all I know of her life. Our letters have been 
 of art, of books of my own work of which she 
 told me faults, fearlessly. She tells me I have 
 written too much for the pastime of others when 
 I have material in me that should enable me to 
 write for their good. Her letters have in them 
 always those suggestions that bring back to me 
 a youth in which I dreamed all wild visions of 
 use and philanthropy, tinged with enough poetry 
 to make them beautiful. Those untainted dreams 
 of youth! they have drifted to me in a flood, of 
 late days, when the letters of this woman came to 
 me. She does not seem to see me as a woman, 
 only a thing of mind and intuitive sympathies, 
 and it is so that her influence is best. 
 
 I feel a half shame in writing that last in 
 writing you of any woman's influence over me. 
 For you have known of other influences; some 
 that spurred me to ambitions, too. But the ambi- 
 tions that were as feverish as the effects of the 
 late suppers, where my divinities for the time per- 
 ished. 
 
 Well, old friend, I think you know I have 
 tried to break loose from all that; tried to steer 
 myself into the correct order of life since I am to 
 be a benedict. Since I felt that another's future 
 
 7
 
 98 IN LOVE'S DOMAINS. 
 
 was to depend on mine, I turned my back on the 
 old boliemian style of life; I tried to put myself 
 through a mental and moral purification. It was 
 all done for the sake of another not, I fear, for 
 the sake of goodness. And gradually I have 
 learned that my attempts in that line are not 
 sympathized with as I had hoped they would be. 
 They are treated in a half- jesting manner that has 
 a mischievous disbelief in me emerging from any 
 chrysalis of the past. I was just awaking to that 
 revulsion of feeling, and I confess was smarting 
 under a sense of irritation when this artist sent 
 me the first of those letters that was in any sense 
 personal letters with the coolness that sooths 
 and the warmth that stimulates. Letters that 
 breathe of purity and strength as if from a soul 
 that has had to struggle to keep them, and thus 
 understand the needs of others. 
 
 It may have been just the coming of her faith 
 in me, at a time when I was despondent over my 
 reformatory attempts, that made such an impres- 
 sion on me that lifted me, mentally, from the 
 slough into which I had half stumbled. 
 
 Well, her present work, artistically, is done for 
 me or rather for the publisher, who really 
 engaged her. Her last letter hints at multi- 
 plicity of work and possible change of address, 
 that seems to put a veto on further correspond- 
 ence. I am not sure that I am sorry, delightful 
 as the exchange of thought has been. But I 
 would not always be content to know her only by 
 letter, and my ideal of her I would not risk having
 
 GALEED. 99 
 
 shattered by a meeting, as I fear it would be. But, 
 just as it is, I know it lias helped me, and I am 
 going to work, old fellow, with a vim born, I 
 think, from one unknown woman's belief in me. 
 Do not think me careless, my brother-cousin, of 
 the faith you have always had in me. But you 
 know me personally, and, through your liking, 
 would give me belief. But this other I think it 
 is simply because there is no personal feeling in 
 the matter the knowledge that it is simply 
 my work she cares for, that gives me the desire to 
 make that work high and strong as her own ideas 
 of excellence ideas she has helped to make 
 mine. 
 
 Her own work is strong and full of feeling. I 
 send with this some proofs of work done for me; 
 you are judge enough to know they are clever. 
 
 Am going to try dramatic work, soon as I have 
 a little time. My play last season was only a 
 semi-success, but I will not be satisfied until I 
 have produced at least one play that will run. 
 This summer I intend doing some work on an 
 Indian theme of the past century, a half historical 
 affair. 
 
 Blanche intends going to Europe this summer 
 with her sister and brother-in-law, Mr. and Mrs. 
 Julian, so I will be left in bachelor freedom for 
 many months longer. I have asked that the mar- 
 riage be consummated now, at once. A contra- 
 diction you will say of many things in this letter; 
 yes, but we are, after all, fond of each other, I 
 think. We seem apart, but I fear that absence
 
 100 IN LOVE'S DOMAINS. 
 
 will only drift us further in that direction. How- 
 ever, my suggestion on the question has been 
 vetoed, so I settle down to work during her 
 absence. 
 
 Write write to me often from the seclusion of 
 your village life. I write you to-night much as I 
 would write in a journal that was for only my 
 own reading just as I used to write you. For the 
 past few years I have drifted away from you a 
 little, my life for awhile was not in keeping with 
 your hopes of me; I know that it helped to cut 
 off in part that old sweet intercourse that was 
 ours when my sister and her influence was with 
 us. 
 
 Well, my cousin, I feel that I am led back to 
 the old walks and to you, and the soul that does 
 it is, I think, akin to the soul of Julia, this 
 woman whose name tells one nothing, Judith 
 Holmes. Your prayers are of more avail than 
 mine, remember her in them for my sake, will you 
 not? That seems a strange request, but I ask it 
 in all earnestness. There has been no hint of 
 sorrow, or want of sympathy, in her letters, but 
 I am filled with the thought that she knows 
 unhappiness that from some depth of pain, she 
 has learned to read between the lines of other 
 people's discontent. I am not sure whether I 
 think of her as an ideal mother, or sister, or 
 sweetheart; all seem blended in the soul I have 
 gained a glimpse of. 
 
 Never mind if I run into extravagance of 
 expression; that will tone down when I settle to
 
 GALEED. 101 
 
 work and get a little used to this breath of youth- 
 ful energy that has come back to me. Try and 
 be a little glad with me. 
 
 Your cousin, 
 
 DALE. 
 
 THE PARSONAGE, GTLENVALE, MASS. 
 
 MY DEAR DALE: Of course I am glad, and 
 am thankful as you are to the woman who has 
 helped me to be so. I am interested in her and 
 her work; the latter is undeniably good. I have 
 regretted that wandering of yours more than I 
 would have expressed if you had not yourself 
 brought up the subject, still you are not yet 
 thirty. The feverish fascinations of worldly life 
 and worldly loves seldom lose their hold on a 
 man of your temperament so early, not unless he 
 has the great help that is the lever of the world 
 Love the love that exalts, that helps us to an 
 understanding of what is best in our own hearts. 
 You, in the early part of your career, sought such 
 companionship of thought, though the search 
 wandered into strange paths that offered alluring 
 substitutes. 
 
 Your marriage will, I think, do more toward 
 contenting you than you imagine now. You need 
 an anchor, and a wife is a most excellent one. I 
 believe it is the idea of your prospective union 
 that has led you unconsciously into the train of 
 thought that is with you now. The sympathy of 
 this unknown nature has helped you to give
 
 102 IN LOVE'S DOMAINS. 
 
 expression to it. But the germs were planted 
 when you asked for the life companionship of the 
 woman you are to marry. 
 
 I think this other lady Mrs. Holmes is an 
 earnest, helpful nature, who, seeing the Haws in 
 work that was otherwise good, had the courage to 
 tell you so, setting aside the conventional for the 
 sake of the useful. Men need that the world 
 hold such women, and though you should not 
 hear from her again, I shall endeavor to keep in 
 your mind her interest in you. 
 
 Come to me here as soon as you choose, there 
 is always a welcome for you. Come, I long to 
 talk to you again as a boy. A boy who has seen, 
 as in a vision, the folly and the soul sickness of 
 illicit sweets who knows them all, and yet turns 
 so thankfully to the wholesome purities of home, 
 the haven that abolishes either false stimulants 
 or narcotics. 
 
 Yours, my boy, earnestly, 
 
 GEORGE. 
 
 CHAPTER III. 
 
 Some strange shame put weight upon my tongue, I only 
 watched her. Foots Revenge. 
 
 A clatter and chatter sounded through the halls 
 and along the verandahs of a hotel in Oyster Bay, 
 Long Island, a summer hotel that closes its doors 
 when the leaves fall, and only opens them again 
 when the peach blossoms make the trees pink.
 
 GALEED. 103 
 
 The young people in gay guise of lawn tennis 
 and boating dress came trooping in under the 
 trees at the lunch hour, and through them the 
 man called Dale made his way to the hotel regis- 
 ter, a half dozen girls fluttering away from the 
 desk to give him room, and fluttering back again 
 to glance at the signature when they thought him 
 out of hearing. 
 
 " Dale Alison," chirruped one. 
 
 " Brooklyn," added another. 
 
 *' Wonder what he is?" 
 
 "He looks like something." 
 
 " Something, that's definite, Grace." 
 
 " Oh, you know something unusual." 
 
 "Yes, unusually tall." 
 
 " Or unusually handsome, perhaps?" This, sar- 
 castically, from one of the girls who preferred 
 blonde specimens of masculinity. 
 
 "No; you all understand what I mean. He 
 looks like an actor, or a minister, or well, some- 
 thing uncommon. No, he is not quite handsome, 
 but he is striking, and his eyes are lovely! they 
 seem to have so much in them." 
 
 " It's a hopeless case," said one, pathetically. 
 
 " Yes, love at first sight," ventured another. 
 
 " The seventh case in the two weeks since we've 
 been here," said the girl called Grace, "forty- 
 eight hours of unutterable love given to each." 
 
 "Proof of her devotion to Ouida. She is 
 hunting for germs of passionate poetry in every 
 man she sees, if he happens to look melancholy; 
 this one looks bilious."
 
 1()4 IN LOVE'S DOMAINS. 
 
 " Yes, a regular black and tan." 
 
 "He is not!" 
 
 "He is so!" 
 
 " He has a face an artist would use for Fra 
 Lippo." 
 
 " Oh! oh! oh! Girls if any of yon have histori- 
 cal knowledge of the gentleman mentioned, you 
 can guage the bent of our friend's mind. I'm 
 shocked!" 
 
 "So am I." 
 
 " We are all paralyzed with horror." 
 
 And immediately six girls dropped into gro- 
 tesque positions, supposed to be paralytic, and 
 bearing a slight resemblance to the attempts at 
 posing made by the dragoons in " Patience." 
 
 "You all look extremely idiotic." 
 
 "Oh! she's getting personal." 
 
 "And vixenish!" 
 
 " Cause unrequited love. But there he goes 
 again." 
 
 "Which way?" 
 
 "Into the lunch room. Say, girls, I'm fam- 
 ished." 
 
 "So am I." 
 
 " Let's get at Ms table." 
 
 "The waiter won't let us." 
 
 " Yes, he will," decided Grace. "I'll smile on 
 him. Come on, all but Laura, she's tabooed 
 because of her susceptible nature. Come along. 
 I'm trying to rack my brains to remember where 
 I've heard his name before. I wish Tom was here, 
 or even papa, I'm sure they would know him."
 
 GALEED. 105 
 
 "There, there! that will do, you schemer, try- 
 ing to pick up an acquaintance on the strength of 
 the idea that possibly Tom knows him. That is 
 rather a transparent affair, try another." 
 
 "Stop jabbering and come to lunch," advised 
 one of the more practical creatures. 
 
 And so the new-comer ate his lunch with what 
 solemnity he could, feeling five pairs of girlish 
 eyes exchanging glances as freely as they had 
 exchanged remarks concerning him. A gay, 
 careless lot they were, let loose from the environ- 
 ments of city life to run wild for a season over the 
 sands, and dabble in the waves of the sea shore. 
 Forward, audacious, with the audacity of youth 
 that means no harm. 
 
 A pleasant, cheery dining-room, with the 
 glimpses of the close green through the windows, 
 and a good lunch with the vis-a-vis of a bright, 
 piquant face, running over with mischief, is apt 
 to make life seem like a thing worth living to a 
 man, and this one whom the girl called Fra 
 Lippo, seemed to enjoy it. 
 
 But in the midst of the hum and the chatter of 
 people passing in and out a woman' s figure caught 
 his eye as it moved slowly toward him down the 
 dining-room a form in white with a scarf over 
 her arm. 
 
 "Ah! a Francesca," he thought, as the slim, 
 girlish figure in dead white stood out in the midst 
 of the gay stripes and bright gowns. But as she 
 came closer the face did not look so girlish as the 
 figure. The eyes had in them a tinge of sadness,
 
 ]06 IN LOVE'S DOMAINS. 
 
 as if of knowledge, and yet something of the 
 wistf illness of a child. 
 
 Was it that wistf ulness that drew his eyes to 
 hers? he could scarcely tell. But whatever the 
 attraction was, his attention seemed to have some 
 mesmeric effect on the lady. She glanced toward 
 him, casually, and the next instant her eyes 
 widened just a little, her lips parted as one who 
 would say "You?" 
 
 And before he could assure himself that he was 
 really the object of that subtle recognition, her 
 eyes dropped, she turned deliberately to a side 
 table, and a view of a clear-cut profile and eyes 
 never turned toward himself was all he could see 
 in the mirror opposite him one in which he did 
 not dare look too often, because of at least one 
 pair of girlish eyes that had noticed that ex- 
 changed glance and was on the alert. 
 
 " She's prettier than ever to-day, isn't she?" 
 whispered one of the girls, and he pricked up his 
 ears thinking to hear her name. 
 
 " Oh, she is too white for a live woman," said 
 another; " with that bronze hair she needs 
 color." 
 
 "Well, she isn't afraid of the tan, anyway," 
 said a third, "for we met her on the bay alone 
 this morning, rowing without gloves, and only a 
 Tam-o'-Shanter on her head, and you know how 
 little they keep the sun off." 
 
 "And she can row, too. Harry Canord, who 
 was with us, watched her through a glass until 
 she landed, and he raved over her figure."
 
 GALEED. 107 
 
 " Ma says it looks masculine for a woman to go 
 out like that in a boat alone." 
 
 "But she is not masculine; her voice is the 
 softest contralto." 
 
 "But she goes everywhere alone." 
 
 " Well, she hasn't been here long, and doesn't 
 seem to know people; but that should not make 
 her unfeminine. I'm in love with her." 
 
 And mentally Alison jotted down the last 
 speaker in his whitest book of memory, for the 
 sake of the pure profile of unchangeable Greek 
 outline. 
 
 The girls, in their new subject, seemed to have 
 thoroughly forgotten the mischief that had sent 
 them to the stranger's table, barring out Laura, 
 who had to sit demurely beside an elderly aunt 
 and watch her chums devour cold chicken at the 
 table, with her interesting specimen of melancholy, 
 a melancholy that she must have concluded 
 originated from hunger, as she was disillusioned 
 by seeing him eat like a ploughman, his eyes 
 gaining an amused gleam as the girls chattered 
 on, never hesitating at personalities, each raven- 
 ous from the salt air, and regretting that it was 
 not dinner, because of some confections and fruits 
 that were a feature of the dessert. 
 
 The woman in white he had already christened 
 her left the lunch-room early, and he sauntered 
 out after as soon as he could in any decency. 
 Why did she look at him like that? She had 
 aroused his curiosity, and then vanished. There 
 were plenty of white dresses to be seen on people
 
 IN LOVE'S DOMAINS. 
 
 both thin and fat, but no Francesca. And passing 
 the open window he noticed that the girl Laura 
 had joined her companions, and taken his place 
 at the table, where they laughed and gossiped, 
 evidently discussing himself and his unsenti- 
 mental appetite. 
 
 A little later a servant entered, carrying to their 
 table a great dish of fruit and confectionery, over 
 which he would answer no questions. "For the 
 young ladies," that was all he knew. And one of 
 the party found a card among the candies, there 
 was a little shriek of horror, a moment of sus- 
 pense, and then, an awe-struck whisper, '''From 
 Fra Lippo!" 
 
 " Oh, he must have heard; we were so near the 
 window." 
 
 " How mean of him to listen." 
 
 " How sweet and forgiving to send the candies." 
 
 "Just my favorites." 
 
 " Say, girls, don't tell Harry." 
 
 " Do you think us silly enough for that? He's 
 a regular darling!" 
 
 " Who? Harry or the other one?" 
 
 " Why, Fra Lippo of course." 
 
 And so the lunch ended, and the new-comer 
 sauntered around the village streets, putting in 
 the time carelessly, aimlessly, while waiting the 
 boat that was to take him next day to the other 
 end of the island. 
 
 He went out along the street that crosses the 
 little bridge where the wild roses grow, and the 
 water falls in a foam below over the stones; out
 
 GALEED. 109 
 
 along the road where vines of the wood drape the 
 trees and form almost an arbor until at the end of 
 the wild hedge, an old mill stands, gray and dusty, 
 near the shore, and the bath houses away along 
 the sand where the people float and splash 
 through the days of the summer. 
 
 And he, sitting on the grass by the mill-race, 
 watching the old miller throw corn to the ducks 
 in the clear, brown water, forgot the Francesca 
 who had puzzled him; forgot the chatter of the 
 girls who had amused him, and drifted into mem- 
 ories of the past, and air castles of the future so 
 close those two are, and so easily conjured up by 
 the drowsy hum of an early summer day. But 
 into even Eden crept the serpent, and across the 
 pastoral air of the fields, and the hills, and the 
 fragrance of apple blossoms, the laugh of a woman 
 came to him one that made him stir uneasily as 
 he lay there on the grass. It struck him with the 
 memory of a thing to which he had once given the 
 name of love, and which he knew now was but a 
 shell without soul. 
 
 But the shells are shifted so by the tides of life, 
 and ever and anon we stumble across them, and 
 look at them a little wonderingly to think they still 
 exist. But we do not care to take in our hands 
 the thing we once kissed into life, we only turn 
 our heads away with the regret that murmurs the 
 11 has been;" that echoes ever through such shells 
 of the past passion of the sea deeps. 
 
 And Alison stirred uneasily that day in the 
 grasses when he heard that woman's laugh. At
 
 110 IN LOVE'S DOMAINS. 
 
 the latter end of a dinner, when the time has come 
 for the fruits and dessert, one wonders, with a 
 little feeling of distaste, at an appetite for soup, 
 which, in the beginning, we found delightful, but 
 which one has outgrown, for the time. 
 
 Something like that thought came to him as he 
 lay there, and he pulled his hat over his eyes to 
 keep out the sun sunlight is so searching, and 
 men's souls shrink from the truth of it some- 
 times and the echo of that laugh had sent back 
 a reflection that made him a little tired at heart. 
 
 The steps of a party came over the beach and 
 the long grass toward him, and one of them, the 
 most airy of the lot, stopped suddenly at the edge 
 of the road with a little cry of amazement at the 
 long limbs and hidden face there on the sward. 
 There are, of course, so many long limbs in the 
 world; but when one has known any one pair so 
 well they are likely to carry a sense of individ- 
 uality, no matter what strange garb encases them. 
 And a moment's glimpse seemed to satisfy the 
 pert, quick-stepping creature, for she motioned 
 the others two women and three men to 
 silence. 
 
 "Go on to the hotel without me, I know him 
 no," as they attempted to dissuade her, "I'll 
 tell you the truth, I do know him, long, oh so 
 long ago; so it is no new affair, those are all you 
 have need to be jealous of, you goose! Go along, 
 do!" 
 
 And then she tip-toed over the sward, and lift- 
 ing the hat forced him to look up into her eyes
 
 GALEED. Ill 
 
 eyes as blue as the seas from which the empty 
 shells are dashed. 
 
 " I have found you," she said, dropping down 
 beside him, her hand on his shoulder. "Oh don't 
 look vexed, I don't want you. I know when 
 I'm given the go-by, and you did it royally, 
 Alison. Yes, you did, and I had a glorious time 
 on the morning you left me, and I'm glad to 
 shake hands and say how are you. Come, let by- 
 gones be by-gones." 
 
 "Of course," he said, a little lamely. "How 
 well you are looking, Hettie. Are you stopping 
 here at the Bay?" 
 
 "If I am, you mean that you will leave, do 
 you?" she asked, bluntly. "No, I've only come 
 over from Shelter Island for a few days. There 
 is a party of us; you may know some of the men. 
 Come around to the hotel this evening, will 
 you?" 
 
 "I I think not," he answered, even while he 
 lay there thinking what an alluring picture she 
 made in the blue and pink of her boating dress, 
 and the face like a flower a very knowing blos- 
 som of a nineteenth century summer; one that 
 knew the value of rich loam in the shape of coins 
 from the mint. A clever little creature, who had 
 been attractive to him once through her very 
 frankness that made no pretenses of innocence, 
 and so, perforce, left a man well satisfied with 
 himself, with no remorse for a spoiled life, or for 
 helping her down a single step on life's ladder.. 
 She never had seemed to realize that she had been
 
 112 IN LOVE'S DOMAINS. 
 
 helped down, and any man who has gone throngh 
 the alternate fits of ecstacy and remorse of a pas- 
 sion that enjoys and repents, can tell what a rest 
 a companionship is over which he need not waste 
 regrets except for lost time. 
 
 But sitting there looking at her he thought 
 again of the soup that we vote distasteful at the 
 end of a dinner. 
 
 "All right," she said cheerily, at his refusal 
 to join her party, "I know you never did care 
 much for crowds. Who is with you here? no 
 one! that's all wrong. You look lonesome." 
 
 "Not at all," he said, rather hastily, "I am 
 working these days, writing. No more time for 
 the careless days and nights when when we 
 knew each other." 
 
 "Yes," she said, easily, "I hear you are going 
 in for the correct thing and matrimony; when am 
 I to congratulate you? " 
 
 " If you mean my marriage, not for some time," 
 he said, a little irritated at having to discuss this 
 question with this woman; and yet, how much 
 he had shared his time with this woman, in a past 
 that was not so very far away. 
 
 " I don't believe I shall at all," she continued, 
 reflectively. ' ' I think it is a mistake marriage. 
 It ties one too tight. Leave it alone, Alison, you 
 are too good a fellow to be spoiled." 
 
 " Thanks, but as the advice is a little late, sup- 
 pose we change the subject; who are you with, 
 here?" 
 
 She looked at him slyly from under her long
 
 GALEED. 113 
 
 lashes, with vanity uppermost; her thought was: 
 " Is he sorry? He did use to be fond of me; is 
 he jealous, after all? " But aloud she said: " with 
 some people from Chicago a jolly party and 
 the gayest of times. Do come along." 
 
 She lounged toward him on the grass, her hand 
 on his shoulder, very near to his neck were the 
 little,- pink, soft fingers. But he lay there 
 unmoved, smiling up at her quizzically, but 
 shaking his head ever so slightly. "Get thee 
 behind me, Satan," he quoted, even while his hand 
 touched those little fingers; was it to clasp them 
 closer? it no doubt looked so, but in reality it was 
 to lift the hand firmly from its resting-place and 
 lay it good-naturedly on her own knee. 
 
 " It looks better there," he remarked, "espe- 
 cially as this is an out-door scene and audiences 
 are likely things." 
 
 "Were you always so afraid of audiences?" she 
 half pouted; and then again the fair pink face 
 was dropped low over his own; "Then why not 
 come where there is no one about? " 
 
 She never was answered, for as he rose on his 
 elbow to speak, he saw over the shoulder of the 
 pink and blue nymph, a figure that had evidently 
 been sitting by the old mill but a short distance 
 away. A slim figure in white with a garden hat 
 on its head, a sketch-book in its hand and a great 
 deal of contemptuous scorn in its eyes, as it stood 
 just an instant gazing across at him, and then 
 deliberately turned and walked away. 
 
 js wrong?" asked the girl looking
 
 114 IN LOVE'S DOMAINS. 
 
 at him. " Did you see a ghost? Who is that 
 woman?" 
 
 "I do not know who she is," he answered 
 half sulkily. 
 
 " Come now, be honest." 
 
 " I tell you the truth," he reiterated, with a 
 decision akin to anger. "I do not even know 
 her name. But as I remarked before, this is 
 not exactly the place for scenes. I propose we 
 move." 
 
 He rose without waiting for any remark and 
 stalked out toward the sandy road, the girl fol- 
 lowing him, a little crest-fallen, a little sulky. 
 Up along the path toward an orchard the white 
 figure was moving steadily, unconscious that a 
 few leaves from the portfolio had dropped on the 
 grass by the bars, and lay there tremulous in the 
 sea breeze. Alison crossed the road and picked 
 them up; the first was a pencil sketch of the old 
 mill, the second was a half -finished one of Hettie's 
 form as she bent toward him, her hand on his 
 shoulder, it might even be thought to be around 
 his neck, for his face could not be seen from the 
 artist's point of view, only the long limbs on 
 the sward, and an elbow showing past the curve 
 of the girl's waist. A pair of lovers any one 
 would have thought them, as no doubt the artist 
 had. But it was only when she saw his face 
 that she had risen indignant. 
 
 ' ' What the deuce does she mean by making a 
 fellow feel uncomfortable with such looks and 
 such a manner?" he thought, grumpily, "why
 
 GALEED. 115 
 
 should she look so surprised? I've no doubt she 
 stumbles over many such scenes at the Bay." 
 
 Then he turned over the last slip of paper. 
 It was not a sketch, but a letter, the heading 
 was that of a publishing house, one he knew 
 well. 
 
 And the address on it was Judith Holmes. 
 
 CHAPTER IV. 
 
 It is safe to say that the rest of the day was not 
 a comfortable one to Dale Alison. All the soft 
 beauty of the day was gone; every nook, every 
 cranny was filled with some phantom of fancy, all 
 laughing idiotically at the horrible incongruity 
 of that woman's hopes of him, of his own half 
 promises to her, and then the scene she had wit- 
 nessed! For Hettie and her party had no doubt 
 made themselves conspicuous features during 
 their stay at the Bay, and there could not be 
 much doubt of their class. The heat of shame 
 tingled through his blood as he remembered sen- 
 tences in those letters that had expressed so much 
 faith in his ideas, in his work. How vividly they 
 stood out in his mind! How they would recur 
 again and again as he lay in his room at the 
 hotel, staring rather vacantly at the wall-paper, 
 on which were grotesque Chinese figures that 
 grinned back at him like little demons. 
 
 The look in her eyes was one he did not care to
 
 116 IN LOVE'S DOMAINS. 
 
 remember; it made him forget how fine tke eyes 
 were. All at once he seemed placed on too low a 
 plane for either admiration or criticism of her 
 personality. He had thought of her for so long, 
 wondering what she was like; how those kind 
 words of her letters would sound if she gave voice 
 to them. And now he knew that she thought of 
 him with such disgust, with such disappointment 
 that those kind letters, those helpful words would 
 never come to him again. 
 
 That thought brought him to his feet like a 
 shot. All his new ambitions that had been 
 thronging close to him of late seemed tinged with 
 hopelessness since the inspiration of them had 
 slipped out of reach. A flash of light into some 
 inner soul thrilled him with the knowledge that 
 his energies had been bent by that woman's faith, 
 not by his own needs, and that the mental sup- 
 port given him had been stronger than he had 
 guessed until it was withdrawn. 
 
 "What will it matter, after all?" he tried to 
 reason in half -irritable fashion, as he tramped 
 from one window to another, aimlessly looking 
 out on moving forms, his eyes searching instinct- 
 ively for one face ; "it will all be forgotten this 
 time next year the woman and her influence." 
 
 So he lied to himself, as men will, trying to 
 reason himself out of the burning embarrassment, 
 the horrible incongruity the day had given birth 
 to. But with all the life in him he knew that he 
 longed to keep that influence and regain that 
 regard,
 
 GALEED. 
 
 The sheets from the portfolio lay on the table 
 by his hat. He picked them up, glancing at the 
 figure of himself half hidden by Hettie's airy 
 draperies. 
 
 " Curse the luck!" 
 
 It is quite an orthodox prayer on lips mascu- 
 line, I believe, if luck grows contrary on their 
 hands, and how natural to shift the responsibili- 
 ties of life unto the irresponsible ones of Fate. 
 The ill-luck was not that he should have met 
 Mrs. Holmes in the rural surroundings of a 
 country road and a flour mill, but that his life 
 had known companionship of which he was 
 ashamed. 
 
 "This sort of thing won't do," he reasoned, 
 finally; "those things must be returned to her, 
 of course." 
 
 After reaching that conclusion, the question 
 was to determine how they should be returned, 
 personally or by messenger. The latter would 
 entail less embarrassment, but after the exchange 
 of thought that had been between them, how 
 could their acquaintance be let end so. A protest 
 against that surged through his thoughts. "And 
 I owe her so much, so much," he muttered, feel- 
 ing his debt, and that he had paid her by lowering 
 her faith in that which she wanted to believe. A 
 man of the world? Yes, so he was thought, but 
 the next morning he felt more like a novice 
 making his first independent call on a lady, as he 
 left his room to return the tell-tale bits of paper 
 to their owner, whose hand he had longed so
 
 118 IN LOVE'S DOMAINS. 
 
 often to clasp, and he wondered now if she would 
 say even "How do you do." 
 
 As for the lady herself, she smiled at the white 
 card with the signature she had learned to know 
 so well. 
 
 " L I will see him," she said, and when alone 
 she again looked curiously at the signature. 
 
 " I do not think there can be danger in seeing 
 him, now," she debated, cynically, and then she 
 leaned back, laughing a little, "Oh, my useless 
 sacrifice to duty and ideals!" she breathed, with 
 sarcastic fervor, "and, oh, my last remnant of 
 faith in the noble animal man. I ended the cor- 
 respondence because it was growing so much too 
 interesting. But yes, I think I can see him now 
 without danger to my susceptible heart." 
 
 And Alison, waiting with an uncertain feeling 
 in the little reception room, saw her draw aside 
 the curtains, and noticed that little upward curve 
 of the corners of her mouth the face not at all 
 the scornful one of yesterday. That smile made 
 him feel almost as uncomfortable as the disdain. 
 It took from him in an instant all the feeling of 
 penitence, and he arose feeling much more assured 
 of his self-possession. No, he need not be afraid 
 of his reception, for she held out her hand. 
 
 "Mr. Alison at last," were the smiling, cour- 
 teous, and provocative words he heard first from 
 her lips. They were so carelessly pleasant, they 
 had such an entire disregard of any former meet- 
 ing, that the coolness of it took him a little aback. 
 
 "I am most happy that you allow it to be at
 
 GALEED. 119 
 
 last," he said, holding her hand an instant, "I 
 have wanted to know you personally for so 
 long." 
 
 " So long?" she repeated, smilingly, " why you 
 have not known of my existence a year." 
 
 "But one can live so much in a year some- 
 times," he said, and wished while he did so that 
 she would drop that coolly smiling way of hers, 
 and look a little more like the Francesca of yes- 
 terday. It is so annoying to one's vanity to be 
 treated as a joke. 
 
 "Can one?" she queried, in answer to that 
 remark of his. " Yes, I think you are right, only 
 every year gets shorter as we grow old." 
 
 "I imagined it was happiness, not age, that 
 made the years short." 
 
 "lean not agree with you from experience," 
 she returned, "happiness has not as yet short- 
 ened them for me, whatever age has done." 
 
 It was the only sentence that had in it a single 
 serious tone, and he wondered if it was because 
 she had known happiness so little. But an 
 instant more and she was chatting of the scene 
 visible through the open window a bit of green 
 bay and blue sky, mellowed into accord by the 
 sunlight of the many advantages of the little 
 town as a summer resort. 
 
 "I have been here only three days," she said 
 in answer to his question, ' ' I am waiting for some 
 friends to join me here. Lonely? Oh, no. I am 
 never that. You know I am a worker, not one of 
 the idle lilies of the field, and my work is seldom
 
 120 IN LOVE'S DOMAINS. 
 
 laid aside in my holidays; and for diversion, I 
 walk and row, and sketch sometimes." 
 
 There was just a trifle of hesitation in this last 
 remark, he could not tell if it was through embar- 
 rassment or roguishness, but glancing at her 
 she looked so perfectly calm that it irritated him 
 into saying, bluntly, "I never expected to meet 
 you like this." "Like this?" with a slight rise 
 of dark brows. ' ' I mean with this this sort of an 
 atmosphere. It pardon my presumption it is 
 not that of our correspondence." 
 
 "No," with an inflection that matched the eye- 
 brows; "but it is all different, you know; those let- 
 ters were, I think, from the mind of each to the art 
 of each. There was no question of personalities. 
 All that is changed when we meet people. Before 
 we did not seem like real people, we were only 
 ideas." 
 
 "And now that you know me, I am not the sort 
 of a person with whom you care to exchange ideas!' ' 
 
 There was a sort of doggedness in his persist- 
 ence to know the worst, and something akin to it 
 came when she said coolly: 
 
 " But I can not say that I know you yet, Mr. 
 Alison." 
 
 For a little there was silence. He knew he 
 deserved it, yet felt himself impelled to a contin- 
 uance of that to which she had virtually given a 
 veto. 
 
 "A month ago you knew me in part," he 
 blundered, " only you have forgotten." 
 
 " I seldom forget," she answered quietly; ' ' but
 
 GALEED. 121 
 
 a month ago is a month ago, and our knowledge 
 of each other by letter was really but a one-sided 
 affair; we each, I think, gave to the other an 
 impression of what we thought we were. That 
 is, I think, what letters amount to generally. But 
 when we meet personally, we must begin all over 
 again in the conventional way, seeing each other 
 with one's own vision, and it makes a difference 
 sometimes." 
 
 She laughed slightly at the last sentence. 
 But he could not even smile with her, he only 
 said: 
 
 " You are so much disappointed in me? " 
 
 " How persistent the manisf ' she thought; "it 
 would be a bore, but that his humility is so charm- 
 ingly awkward, it fits him so ill," but aloud, she 
 said: 
 
 " No, I could not well be that, your late work 
 is good, I think, very good. You are writing 
 with a purpose now, one I hope will gain the 
 end you have in view, whatever it is." 
 
 There came to him the impulse to tell her the 
 thoughts he had since he saw her yesterday, the 
 certainty that the end in view was, in a great 
 part, her approval, that without her faith his 
 ambition staggered, and felt itself without a goal. 
 And then he could have laughed aloud at an 
 impulse so absurd as he looked at her face so 
 carelessly non-committal, and knew that all his 
 hopes of helpful friendship were ended through 
 the level glances she gave him, and her refusal to 
 meet him on the footing their letters had built.
 
 122 IN LOVE'S DOMAINS. 
 
 He seemed in the midst of a chaotic wreck of 
 thought, he felt his veins tingling, as with a 
 scourge, while he sat there. A scourge plaited 
 of reeds, through which a soulless passion had 
 whistled in a season so dead; they come back 
 always in some form, these passions, and what- 
 ever music their song is set to, the refrain is 
 always regret. 
 
 "We seem to have only my own work to dis- 
 cuss," he said, at last, "but what of yours, are 
 you doing any now? " 
 
 She looked at him a moment, thinking wickedly 
 in woman fashion, "Yes, it will serve him right," 
 and rang a little bell, that was answered by an old 
 colored woman, who courtsied when she saw the 
 stranger, and asked, "Whahtis, Miss Jude?" 
 
 " Bring me the small, blue portfolio, Lisa, it is 
 on the table in my room," she said, with more 
 tenderness of tone and glance than she had seemed 
 to possess; and w r hen it was brought, she turned 
 over the loose sheets until she found an orna- 
 mental heading of shells and sea-weed that out- 
 lined the word " Mizpah." She handed it to him 
 in silence. 
 
 " My poem," he said, in wondering, half -shamed 
 surprise, " I I did not think of publishing 
 that." 
 
 "No? But that need not deter one from 
 making sketches if there are pictures in a bit of 
 writing. I have often done that for practice, and 
 I did so with this." 
 
 " It is not worth such exquisite work," he said
 
 GALEED. 123 
 
 quietly, "I sent it with those manuscripts, but 
 never thought it worth publication." 
 
 "I am not sure of that," she said, in an argu- 
 mentative manner, " I do not believe you know it, 
 though you did write it. Have you ever read it 
 aloud?" 
 
 "No, I never have," he answered, wonder- 
 ingly. 
 
 "Then, of course, you do not know it," she 
 decided, " Here it is, read it aloud and see if you 
 don't make its acquaintance over again." 
 
 "Why, what difference " 
 
 "I am not sure what it is, the literary merit of 
 it may not be high; you seem to judge it from that 
 standpoint, but there was something I liked in it 
 when read aloud." 
 
 " You might help me to see its beauties, if you 
 would not mind reading it to me." 
 
 It was a bold sally after the rebuffs he had met. 
 He really did not care much about the article, 
 scarcely remembering any thoughts in it. But 
 the desire for any subject of conversation in which 
 there would be no jarring element made him des- 
 perate. 
 
 She looked at him for an instant in surprise, 
 surprise that was quickly hidden, however, as she 
 said, in a most matter-of-fact way, " Oh, certainly, 
 I may not read well, but it possibly will help give 
 you the impression I spoke of, and help you to 
 believe it worth my sketches." 
 
 He nodded understandingly, without speaking, 
 and turned his eyes out toward the sea, instead of
 
 124 IN" LOVE'S DOMAINS. 
 
 toward her face, as she read, in a subdued tone, 
 his bit of verse: 
 
 " Mizpahl here our lives drift wider asunder, 
 Why? or whence? ah me, the vain endeavor 
 Of sad lips to answer what the heart asks! 
 Close through stormy weather have our hands clasped, 
 And our life-boat rode the waves in laughter; 
 Naught to us the storms we had each other! 
 And glad eyes kept darkness far beyond us. 
 Now the waves seem lulled to rest forever. 
 And life's sea in smoothest tones invites us; 
 On we move but, ah, my friend, the pity! 
 Two boats now drift outward to the ocean, 
 And the water, clear as crystal, mirrors 
 Two tired faces and sad eyes that see not; 
 Back we dare not look, for there is floating 
 In our wake a corpse, the tiling that lightened 
 All our lives is lifeless; and love's music 
 Only comes to listening ears in echoes 
 Of a dear, dead happiness. Above us 
 Brassy skies are burning; outward drift we, 
 With no hope of green isles in our future. 
 Coral reefs there may be, and false beacons 
 Oft lure tired lives. What is, is written, 
 Here we raise our monument, moan ' Mizpah,' 
 And drift down, alone, life's unknown vistas." 
 
 He did not speak for a little after she ceased 
 reading. He had forgotten what prompted that 
 bit of verse; he rather thought it the outgrowth 
 of a fancy he had for trying different construc- 
 tions of verse, and the theme had been a sort of 
 chance affair. But hearing it read in those warm, 
 deep tones, gave it a new meaning to him. 
 
 "It is musical," he agreed; "yes, when you 
 read it; and I had thought it nothing only a 
 fragment."
 
 GALEED. 125 
 
 "It suggested the sketches at any rate," she 
 answered, and watched him as he took up the 
 larger drawing, two shallops drifted apart by the 
 winds of the sea, the occupants a man and a 
 woman reaching hands longingly toward each 
 other, all the mistiness of the horizon forming a 
 background for the intense faces turned each to 
 each. 
 
 "It is beautiful," he said, earnestly. 
 
 "Which, the poem or the sketch?" she asked 
 as curiously as though she had not seen his eyes 
 grow pleased over her work. 
 
 "Your sketch, you know I mean that," and 
 his tone was slightly impatient. It vexed him 
 to hear her speak to him in a superficial way, 
 when through all her work there breathed ear- 
 nestness. It was as if she deemed him too far below 
 comprehension of the earnestness of life or 
 expression. "The illustrations might sell the 
 poem, but without it, my fragment of verse would 
 never be noticed." 
 
 "Well," she said, half jestingly, "when you 
 find yourself longing for the fame of Poesy, send 
 to me for the sketches and verse." 
 
 " I may take you at your word sometime," he 
 answered, "you have given me an interest in the 
 lines I had almost forgotten; when I send for 
 them, remember the promise." 
 
 Long after they both remembered that careless- 
 ness of conversation, both so unconscious of the 
 significance of the poem that was in part a 
 prophecy.
 
 126 IN LOVE'S DOMAIXS. 
 
 But just then the verse and the sketch had 
 brought a tinge of earnestness into their little 
 scene that Mrs. Holmes hastened to drive into 
 the background by asking of the theatres, asking 
 what was new, discussing what was old. 
 
 "I have seen so little, my home has been 
 mostly in the country," she said, appealing to 
 his judgment in some matter of metropolitan life. 
 
 " And you like the repose of it best," he asked, 
 hoping to find a theme congenial. 
 
 " Y-e-s," in a hesitating way, "that is, in the 
 season of green leaves. But repose so often 
 means monotony. It is delightful in pictures 
 and poems of course. But elevated roads are so 
 convenient." 
 
 And in despair he gave up, and bade her good- 
 morning, feeling almost as if the day had been a 
 failure. 
 
 " May I come to see you again, before I leave?" 
 he asked, at parting. 
 
 And again she thought, ''how persistent the 
 man is;" but said, "certainly, I would be glad 
 to have you meet my friends, the Winans, a 
 lovely old-young couple, my closest friends. If 
 your other duties will allow you time, we should 
 like to have you to dinner with us to-morrow." 
 
 He could see that he was asked to meet her 
 friends, not herself. But he said, concisely: 
 
 "I have no duties here, few anywhere, and I 
 will come," and then he held out his hand. It 
 seemed out of tune with all his former fancies to 
 leave her less cordially.
 
 GALEED. 127 
 
 " I want to tell you," he said, stubbornly, "how 
 much you have helped me through those letters. 
 I I tell you this because I well, it seems as if 
 some way our acquaintance has a tone so different 
 from our correspondence, and it is to me a regret. 
 Your influence " 
 
 "My influence!" she broke in softly, ironically; 
 " I rather think the imagination that is so admir- 
 able in your work is rather strained when applied 
 to my influence. Do not you?" and she glanced 
 at him amusedly. 
 
 "I do not; it is not imagination. The lack of 
 that most pleasant friendship is more than a 
 regret, it is a loss. I would like you to believe I 
 am in earnest." 
 
 And then he was gone. She dropped into 
 a chair by the window, smiling still. That 
 quizzical gleam in her eyes was the last he had 
 seen of her, and it had made him blunder a 
 little over the words that he yet spoke so deter- 
 minedly. 
 
 And as she sat there trying to make herself 
 believe that she cared only to laugh, she saw him 
 pass out across the lawn, his hat pulled rather 
 low over his eyes. As she watched the tall figure 
 saunter down toward the beach, her lips curled 
 a little, but softened to whisper: 
 
 " It is a pity; I am sorry; yes, it is a pity." 
 
 She brought her drawing and went to work at 
 the window, but some way did not make much 
 headway. Her eyes wandered so often down 
 toward the water. It was not a day for work,
 
 128 IN LOVE'S DOMAINS. 
 
 and she had just determined to go for a walk 
 when the colored boy again appeared. 
 
 "This for you, Mrs. Holmes, with Mr. Alison's 
 compliments." 
 
 This was a large, flat envelope, and with it a 
 scribbled card: 
 
 "I called to return these, but some way forgot 
 my errand. DALE ALISON." 
 
 These were the words, and opening the envelope 
 she found the lost letter and sketches of yester- 
 day. She glanced at that of the two figures, and 
 then out on the bay where a solitary boat was 
 foaming through the water to a hazy shore of the 
 mainland. She even picked up a glass and 
 watched through it a coatless figure holding a 
 rudder grimly in one hand and a most plebeian- 
 looking short pipe in the other. She dropped the 
 glass with a little laugh. 
 
 "I wondered how we should meet, or what we 
 should think of each other if we ever did. Well, 
 all things come to those who wait. I have 
 waited. It all seems like a whimsical bit of com- 
 edy that ventures just to the edge of seriousness." 
 
 And then the thoughts scarcely seemed worth 
 formation, for she sat with half -closed eyes, still 
 and lazy in the shadow of the curtain. But her 
 face in repose was no longer cynical; tired, almost 
 wistful, were the eyes that held in them the ele- 
 ments of tragedy more surely than the tinsel and 
 brusquerie of comedy. 
 
 And out on the Sound the sky grew overcast, 
 and the wind rose the east wind that moans
 
 GALEED. 129 
 
 always because of its bondage to tears. And into 
 the teeth of it swept the little boat of the man 
 who threw, at times, grim, backward glances 
 toward the southern shore. 
 
 "Not nearly so romantic as her idea of Miz- 
 pah," he muttered, as he ducked for a short tack 
 and drew in sail. 
 
 But some way, the vision of those parted boats 
 would persist in floating their shapely timbers 
 over the same waters that tossed his own craft 
 out out from the shore where she had laughed. 
 
 CHAPTER V. 
 
 Three weeks later two ladies sat on the shady 
 side of a steamer that was plowing its way over 
 the waters of the Sound, past Greenport, up past 
 the ripple of the Narrows where the waters meet, 
 on around the curves and the cliffs of Shelter 
 Island, across the mouth of Peconic Bay, and 
 toward the old-time whaling port of Sag Harbor. 
 
 The one lady was Alison's Francesca, Mrs. 
 Holmes. The other was a dainty little blossom of 
 a woman, her dress the gray of her hair. A 
 charming old lady, with the instincts of a little 
 coquette peeping through the quaint daintiness 
 of lace frills, caressing the shining patent-leather 
 shoe. 
 
 " You are really not taking a vacation at all," 
 she was saying, in a debating tone, to the younger
 
 130 IN LOVE'S DOMAINS. 
 
 woman, who only smiled at her. " You have 
 been working hard at your drawings six hours of 
 every day since we came to the island. Do you 
 call that a vacation? You are really not strong 
 enough to work like that." 
 
 "Do not judge me by your own fragile little 
 self," advised the other; "you seem to imagine 
 because I am not a stout, red-cheeked creature, 
 4;hat I must perforce be a weakling. I am sure I 
 rowed you two miles for lilies yesterday, and 
 brought you home without being too much 
 exhausted to eat my own share of supper. What 
 further proof do you want of my vitality?" 
 
 "That is all very well," nodded the little lady, 
 "but one of the last things Lisa told me before 
 starting for Carolina was to try to keep an eye on 
 you; that you have not been sleeping well; that 
 you are restless at night, and nervous, and 
 
 "So that is the cause of this little lecture, is 
 it?" queried the other; "Lisa has been foolish 
 enough to exaggerate my restlessness of a few 
 nights into a serious affair for your consideration. 
 I am rather glad the dear old creature has gone 
 back to her people for these few weeks; she is 
 growing fanciful in her old age." 
 
 " Well, of course, she is likely to be over anx- 
 ious, since she is so attached to you. But she 
 must have some foundation for those statements." 
 
 "You should not be credulous enough to take 
 Lisa's tales at her own worth, Mrs. Winans," 
 returned the younger woman; " Lisa has conjured 
 up lock-jaw for me out of a pricked finger, and
 
 GALEED. 131 
 
 brain fever out of a headache as long as I can 
 remember." 
 
 " But if you are so well, what is the reason you 
 are not sleeping?' ' persisted the little lady. 
 
 " Happiness, my dear," was the calm reply. 
 
 " Happiness?" was the doubtful query. 
 
 "Certainly, a supreme content in the mere fact 
 of existence a content so overwhelming that I lie 
 awake o' nights to think of it." 
 
 The suggestion of the unexpressed in the last 
 speech was as a wall over which there seemed no 
 easy passage. In silence they sat for a little 
 while, and then the old lady dropped her hand 
 gently on the arm of the other. 
 
 1 ' Don't worry, dear, ' she said, softly, ' ' you are 
 too young to know heavy weights of trouble." 
 
 " Too young?" and the repetition had a tinge of 
 bitterness; "is one ever too young for that? My 
 heaviest troubles came four years ago. They are 
 mostly over now. I am alone, and that itself is a 
 boon." 
 
 " It seems unnatural for a young person to look 
 on life like that," remonstrated Mrs. Winans; " I 
 will never be content until I see your life made 
 what woman's life should be, one of home, love, 
 and companionship." 
 
 Mrs. Holmes pressed the little gray-gloved 
 hand lovingly, even while she said: "Stop just 
 where you are, you chronic match-maker! Let 
 me get what content freedom holds and it is so 
 much to one who has been in prison." 
 
 Just then a gentleman joined them, a portly,
 
 132 IN LOVE'S DOMAINS. 
 
 burly individual, who settled down by the old 
 lady like an elephant beside a little, gray dove. 
 
 "Well, little woman, how is it?" he asked, 
 referring to the beauty of the Sound, with its 
 lovely patches of irregular shores, "bracing, 
 eh? And how is our little captain? Glad you 
 came, ain't you? I tell you this breeze is a 
 tonic." 
 
 "Yes," agreed his wife. "But you, major, 
 always come booming around more like a hurri- 
 cane than a breeze. Do try and be a little more 
 restful." 
 
 "Can't, my dear. If I was restful I would have 
 to deprive myself of tobacco, and buy anti-fat 
 medicine instead. I've just been tramping the 
 upper deck with the mate until I'm pretty well 
 blown, and came down here for a quiet breath. " 
 
 "But you do not allow yourself to take it 
 quietly," said Mrs. Holmes, slyly; and the old 
 gentleman laughed good-naturedly. 
 
 "Ah! you know me little captain, don't you? 
 I suppose I seldom do stop chatting long enough 
 to take breath. But I just heard something of 
 our Oyster Bay friend, Mr. Alison." 
 
 " He is not an ' Oyster Bay' friend," corrected 
 Mrs. Winans. "How can we call him that when 
 his mother and I were friends before he was 
 born, and I have actually held him in my arms as 
 a babe." 
 
 "Oh, you have, have you?" growled her hus- 
 band with intense ferocity. " Only let me see 
 him in your arms, that's all."
 
 GALEED. 133 
 
 "And so," continued his wife, not noticing the 
 interruption, * ' and so we can not call him merely 
 a sea-side acquaintance. I really like him too 
 well to drop him that way." 
 
 "Urn, hum!" grunted her husband. "The 
 only comfort I have in this case is that the gentle- 
 man does not reciprocate, for he most assuredly 
 was not too much infatuated to drop you, after 
 one dinner together," and he chuckled maliciously 
 and confidentially to Mrs. Holmes. 
 
 " That is a most unkind, uncalled for remark," 
 announced his wife, "isn't it, Judith? He had 
 to leave because of business; he said so, and I 
 am sure he is too honest to resort to fibs." 
 
 "Fibs is scarcely the word," assented the 
 major, "there is a stronger one used sometimes 
 that might fit such cases." 
 
 "Major!" 
 
 " I always know when she says * major' in that 
 tone that it is time to get behind a barricade. 
 Say, little captain, let me get behind you? " 
 
 "Instead of beating a retreat, you had better 
 enlighten us as to Mr. Alison's perfidy," sug- 
 gested Mrs. Holmes, anxious to settle this amic- 
 able quarrel. 
 
 "Certainly, with pleasure, with decided pleas- 
 ure, since it may squelch an infatuation dangerous 
 to domestic felicity; squelch is not an elegant 
 word, but it is handy," he explained. "But to 
 proceed: You remember an evening a few weeks 
 ago when you invited a journalistic friend, not 
 an Oyster Bay acquaintance, to dine with us?
 
 134 IN LOVE'S DOMAINS. 
 
 And you, little captain, may remember the dead- 
 set made at his rakish charms by my spouse; its 
 no use, Mrs. Winans, to tell me how handsome he 
 is. Can you expect me to see anything charming 
 in the destroyer of my peace? And you remem- 
 ber how she hunted up a buried friendship with 
 his departed mamma? The poor lady could not 
 come from her grave to deny it, and she meanly 
 took advantage of that fact. Well, my dear, it 
 was not strictly honorable; and in fact, she at 
 once began laying out such a route of rides and 
 sails at which he saw he would have to act as 
 escort, and at once convenient business was 
 pleaded, and served to call him to some unmen- 
 tioned quarter." 
 
 " I really do not see the necessity of all this 
 preamble," remarked his wife slightingly. 
 
 "I am studying dramatic effect, my dear, and 
 working up to the climax where truth confronts 
 its opposite; and you are informed that your som- 
 bre Lothario has been waiting around these shores 
 ever since, almost within a stone's throw of you, 
 yet escaped your eagle glance. What do you say 
 to that?" 
 
 "It's a a mistake, surely," answered his wife; 
 "you have been misinformed." 
 
 "Oh no, I have not," returned the major, easily, 
 "the mate knows him, and tells me he made the 
 trip to Sag Harbor yesterday on this steamer, and 
 the chances are you will have an opportunity to 
 confront him with his deceit; that is, if he don't 
 see you first."
 
 GALEED. 135 
 
 ' ' Judith ; do you hear this? Do you believe it? ' ' 
 demanded little Mrs. Winans, blankly. 
 
 "Oh yes; I believe all I hear; I don't know any 
 better." 
 
 It was the first comment she had as yet made, 
 and neither imagined that her silence meant any- 
 thing but indifference. 
 
 "And I had such faith in those honest eyes of 
 his," said the little lady, lamentingly. 
 
 " I see no reason for a loss of faith," remarked 
 Mrs. Holmes; "give him the benefit of the doubt, 
 re-instate your idol until you hear the evidence. 
 He is a worker. An inspiration may have neces- 
 sitated his withdrawal from the giddy crowd for 
 a season. Your devotion is weak if it doubts on 
 the circumstantial." 
 
 " Judith, you are a darling! " 
 
 " Little captain, you're a traitor." 
 
 "Of course he has much to do," assented Mrs. 
 Winans; "much quiet study to produce those 
 beautiful stories of his. He has no need to take 
 anti-fat remedies because of inexertion. ' ' 
 
 " I rather think," said the major, reflectively, 
 to Mrs. Holmes, "that to win back her affection, 
 I shall have to write a novel myself, or a poem. 
 She dotes on poems, and there I'll get ahead of 
 him, for I don't believe he does anything but 
 plain, every-day prose. My mind is made up; 
 Pll write a poem." 
 
 " And I will illustrate it." 
 
 " It's a bargain! You owe some penance in this 
 affair, because you invited him to that dinner,
 
 136 IN LOVE'S DOMAINS. 
 
 and over it she remembered that she had once 
 held him in her arms, and from that moment 
 dates well, if my happiness is buried forever, 
 I will lay the blame at your door." 
 
 " Major," said his wife, briskly, " on our arrival 
 you must go at once to the hotels and see if Mr. 
 Alison is still here, and if so, bring him to see us, 
 bring him to see me." 
 
 "I'll entice him down to the harbor and drop 
 him in," confided the major to Mrs. Holmes. 
 
 But on landing at the dock they found them- 
 selves all at sea about hotels. They had taken it 
 for granted that in a quiet, non-society place like 
 Sag Harbor it would be easy to get accommoda- 
 tions. But some "high jink," as the major 
 termed it, had brought the neighboring fire 
 departments into the little place, and with them 
 an influx of visitors that had taken possession of 
 the hotels. " Everything full," was the response 
 from all quarters. 
 
 "I feel like getting full myself," grunted the 
 major, sitting down disconsolately on the steps 
 of the hotel, whose proprietor offered them 
 any amount of space a week ahead, but now 
 no, it was impossible to accommodate even the 
 ladies. 
 
 "My one comfort in this," remarked Mrs. 
 Holmes, "is that Lisa is safe down in the piney 
 woods. If she was here she would simply howl, 
 or chant Methodist hymns to give vent to her 
 feelings at having no roof to cover her." 
 
 "Judith, you always know the right thing to
 
 GALEED. 137 
 
 do at the right time," said Mrs. Winans, flatter- 
 ingly; " do tell us what to do now." 
 
 "Suppose we hire a boat and live on the bay," 
 was the brilliant suggestion that met only 
 glances of disdain from the others, and the major 
 sadly drew a railroad schedule out of his satchel, 
 preparatory to leaving the town. 
 
 "I think I can help you to something better 
 than that, if you will allow me," said a voice 
 inside the window beside which they sat for- 
 lornly. 
 
 "Mr. Alison," breathed Mrs. Winans, grate- 
 fully, " come out of that office at once and shake 
 hands with me, and tell us where we can pitch 
 our tents." 
 
 And a moment later he was shaking hands 
 heartily with the major and his wife, and as earn- 
 estly, if in silence, with Mrs. Holmes. 
 
 "I forgive you for hiding around the corner of 
 the island," said the old lady, magnanimously. 
 "I accept any excuse for you running away, if 
 you will only come to our rescue now." 
 
 " With the assurance of your continued favor 
 all things are easy," he answered, gallantly, and 
 then turned to the major. " Come along," he said 
 briskly, "and come quick, or some one else may 
 be ahead of us. I have found a haven out along 
 the shore road, and there may be room for your 
 party. Let me show the ladies into the parlor 
 here, and then I am at your service." 
 
 But the ladies preferred the open porch and 
 view of the old village street where the names of
 
 138 IN LOVE'S DOMAINS. 
 
 Portugese and Lascar swung on many signs under 
 which the native of the soil the Indian still 
 does his trading. 
 
 "Is it not providential, our meeting him?" 
 asked Mrs. Winans. 
 
 " Wait until you have seen the results," sug- 
 gested Mrs. Holmes, dryly. "Your faithless 
 swain may not after all be a conqueror of 
 hotel-keepers, though he is of susceptible 
 hearts." 
 
 "Judith, you are as bad as the major worse, 
 for I do believe you have a prejudice against that 
 fine fellow, though you did illustrate his book so 
 beautifully. Come, own up." 
 
 "What shall I acknowledge? I think I have 
 been much nicer to Mr. Alison than he has been 
 to us." 
 
 "Y es no I'm not sure that you have," 
 returned the little lady, thoughtfully. "That 
 evening he spent with us I remember thinking 
 you were as near horrid as it was possible for 
 you to be." 
 
 "Don't mind complimenting me if you feel 
 like it." 
 
 "I shan't," returned her fault-finder, calmly; 
 "for you can be so thoroughly charming with 
 people if you want to. But that night a perverse 
 spirit made you appear the most shallow and 
 frivolous of girls. No one would have imagined 
 you ever had a serious thought. And he admired 
 you. Yes, I am sure he did. But I know he 
 expected something much more intellectual than
 
 GALEED. 139 
 
 you showed yourself that evening. Why, you 
 were perfectly devoted to the major, and the pair 
 of you talked sheep-breeding and high and low 
 pasture lands until one would think you had been 
 born in a stable, and never had any higher themes 
 of conversation." 
 
 "Goon. What a memory you have for rem- 
 iniscences." 
 
 "Don't you really like him, Judith?" 
 
 ' ' I would not dare say ' no ' even if I thought 
 it," said Mrs. Holmes, banteringly. "Of course 
 I like the man well enough. He is as good as the 
 average specimen, I dare say. And it behooves 
 me to be agreeable, else he may withdraw his 
 lordly favor in the shape of future work." 
 
 "Judith!" 
 
 "I'm done." 
 
 ' ' I will not have you look on my friends in that 
 horrid, mercenary light." 
 
 " Your friends? Do you remember it was I 
 who introduced you? I knew him first." 
 
 "I," triumphantly announced the little lady, 
 with an air of check, "danced him on my knee 
 years and years ago." 
 
 " I give in," laughed Mrs. Holmes. " As yet I 
 have not had that felicity." - 
 
 "Judith!" 
 
 " My dear, you will, I am sure, develop into a 
 little gray-garbed exclamation point if you per- 
 sist in that startling habit you have of quelling 
 the major and myself." 
 
 "Do try and be a little nicer to him now that
 
 140 IN LOVE'S DOMAINS. 
 
 we have met again," said Mrs. Winans, per- 
 suasively; "really it seems like fate." 
 
 ' ' It seems a great deal more like following him, ' ' 
 returned Mrs. Holmes, in a matter-of-fact way. 
 And then they saw the forms of their scouts 
 coming up the street, and judged from the 
 major's satisfied face that it had been a successful 
 raid. 
 
 "I give in, little woman," he said, when in 
 speaking distance; "your nursling is a genius 
 in the way of a guide. You are installed in the 
 prettiest, breeziest of rooms, with a view that is 
 an invigorator in itself; a resting place to gladden 
 the hearts of just such tramps as we. Come 
 along, little captain, I leave my spouse to express 
 her gratitude to Mr. Alison, and we will lead the 
 way in the direction of dinner it smells excel- 
 lent." 
 
 And a pleasant resting place they really found 
 it; a big white frame house with immense wide 
 porches, and a great, grassy yard reaching down 
 to the street that was really more like a country 
 road, for beyond it was a meadow where the cat- 
 tle grazed almost to the water's edge. And out 
 from that shimmered the waves in the noon sun, 
 away across to the long bar of yellow sand that 
 breaks in two the distance between the home 
 shore and the lighthouse. 
 
 "It is glorious," admitted Mrs. Holmes, step- 
 ping out on the porch, where an after-dinner 
 smoke was making the air redolant of Durham, 
 N. C.
 
 GALEED. 141 
 
 "The credit is all Mr. Alison's. Come right 
 her and say something nice to him," commanded 
 Mrs. Winans, who had preceded her, and joined 
 the gentlemen, the youngest of whom gave her his 
 chair, and tossing his cigar away, arranged a cor- 
 ner for Mrs. Holmes, where the view was best. 
 Into it she dropped, indolently, with a gracious 
 nod of thanks. 
 
 " I am not at all sure that I know how to say 
 nice things," she remarked, "but if any one will 
 prompt me I will do my best." 
 
 " I think an extremely nice thing to say would 
 be that you are not sorry to see me again," ven- 
 tured Alison. 
 
 " How could I possibly be that when we have 
 been such gainers through your kindness? I am 
 really very grateful." 
 
 " You may call that nice, but I was not fishing 
 for gratitude," he returned, drily. 
 
 "What's that about fishing?" called the major, 
 from the steps, where he was watching a couple 
 of boys tussling on the grass; "good fishing about 
 here?" 
 
 "No," said Mrs. Holmes, provokingly, "Mr. 
 Alison finds the water too shallow." 
 
 "Not that exactly," he returned, "only 
 wind and tide are rather perverse for smooth 
 sailing." 
 
 And then their eyes chanced to meet, and did 
 not seem able to part unconsciously, and both 
 having a rather keen sense of the ridiculous, found 
 themselves laughing in each other's faces, without
 
 142 IN LOVE'S DOMAINS. 
 
 any reason that could be easily explained j;o a 
 third person. 
 
 " Did you really run away around the corner of 
 the island, as Mrs. Winans accused you of doingf 
 she asked, after a little, and the mere question 
 gave him a hope that a part of the barrier was 
 slipping away. Several times in their rather pecu- 
 liar acquaintance, he had thought that, and then, 
 without the slightest warning, had suddenly 
 found it raised again, and herself buried behind it 
 completely out of sight. 
 
 "I did not run away, I sailed away," he 
 returned, literally, "and I came around the cor- 
 ners, as you term it, because it was the only way 
 I could reach Montauk Point, as I am doing some 
 work for which it was ' 
 
 "There, there," she protested, "I am not 
 installed as confessor to you; I leave that to Mrs. 
 Winans, who was disconsolate at not being able to 
 renew more thoroughly your former acquaint- 
 ance." 
 
 "One that was all on her side," he returned, 
 "owing to my insensibility, at that age, to the 
 charms of ladies in general." 
 
 " One you have outgrown, I dare say," said the 
 old lady, who was promenading the porch, and 
 reached their corner in time to hear the last 
 remark. 
 
 " I shall try to prove so during your stay," he 
 answered her, " as under existing circumstances, 
 we are obliged to live under the same roof, unless 
 you decree that I shall take myself boatward."
 
 GALEED. 143 
 
 " You are much more likely to take to a boat 
 of your own accord," she smiled in return; " but 
 if you do remain, I promise to see that we do not 
 in the least interfere with your work. You shall 
 be just as industrious as you like, you, and Judith, 
 too. In fact, she never does, and never will stop 
 her work for any one. She is the most indepen- 
 dent of mortals, and never expects the little 
 attentions of life, and I well, I do a little. But 
 the major is never far off. So you two young 
 people can work through your vacations to your 
 hearts' content." 
 
 "That sounds very well," remarked the major 
 in an aside to Alison, " and is likely to quell a 
 man's fears of fans, and sun umbrellas, and lunch 
 baskets, and awnings, but I happen to know that, 
 little as she is, she can keep three men busy wait- 
 ing on her, and two is a mere bagatelle." 
 
 "One could not reckon you among the baga- 
 telles, major," said his wife, with a comprehen- 
 sive glance at his aldermanic proportions. 
 
 "Now there's little captain," he continued, 
 heedless of the last remark, "she is a thoroughly 
 good fellow, and always able to look after her- 
 self." 
 
 "Thanks, major. It has been an affair of 
 'have to' so often, that I never think of wait- 
 ing for anyone else to take care of me, and am 
 glad my friends appreciate my lack of dependence 
 on them." 
 
 "Yes yes. You always were like that even 
 when a little chap. You know, Mr. Alison, Mrs.
 
 144 IN LOVE'S DOMAINS. 
 
 Holmes and myself have been chums ever since 
 she was in pinafores; I helped teach her to ride 
 and swim, and she does me credit, too." 
 
 Alison found himself wondering, with a sort of 
 puzzled humor, at his old ideas of this artist. His 
 written opinions of her character, her soul, as he 
 fancied he had caught glimpses of them; and to 
 hear her claimed in this sort of good-fellowship, 
 even by an old friend, was as much of a surprise 
 as her cynical, half-coquetry at their first meet- 
 ing. It gave him a puzzling feeling of complexity. 
 Her personality in any phase given him was 
 unsatisfactory, a disappointment. Yet back of 
 all his distaste, her face shone out clearly to him, 
 and in its eyes was a something of feeling that 
 belied all the carelessness of raillery. 
 
 "She interests, and she disturbs me," he con- 
 fided to his pipe an hour or so later. " She is a 
 loss, and a gain. She has taken from me all 
 those exalted ideal fancies I had of her. But she 
 has given me instead a character whose study 
 should be a thing desired by a writer. I wonder 
 if that is not a very cold-blooded way to think of 
 her after after well, it is not I, it is herself. I 
 feel ashamed in her eyes when I remember that 
 episode of Oyster Bay, and yet, I am irritated 
 with her for not being what I hoped. It is a 
 decided mix." 
 
 After that decision, the pipe having emptied 
 itself into air, he proceeded to disrobe, stopping 
 now and then for a long stare at himself in the 
 mirror, as if it was his own face that puzzled him
 
 GALEED. 145 
 
 instead of another's, and then with a lazy, luxuri- 
 ous stretch between the sheets, he yawned him- 
 self sleepily into another query: "I wonder how 
 long she has been a widow, and I wonder I won- 
 der what Mr. Holmes was? That knowledge 
 might help one to see a little daylight through 
 this confused personality." 
 
 CHAPTER VI. 
 
 Because its way was as a lost star's way, 
 
 A world not wholly known of day or night. 
 ****** 
 
 Song, have thy day and take thy fill of light 
 Before the night be fallen across thy way. 
 
 SAG HARBOR, L. I., JFTTE 15, 188 . 
 MY DEAR GEORGE: Yes, I am still here in this 
 delightfully primitive end of the island, the por- 
 tion of it where wild bits will persist in stubbornly 
 resisting all things modern or civilized. I find it 
 most enjoyable, and have met people here pleasant 
 to know two that are delightful old characters, 
 Mr. and Mrs. Winans, and the third is Mrs. 
 Holmes. You will wonder, no doubt, that I have 
 not written of our meeting before. I have known 
 her now three weeks, or I can scarcely say I 
 know her, either. If I had been more sure of that 
 you would have heard of our meeting earlier. 
 We are two different people from the writers of
 
 146 IN LOVE'S DOMAINS, 
 
 those letters, and it is rather humiliating to have 
 to confess that I deserve a sort of neglect that I 
 have been treated to in that direction. The cause 
 is not easy to explain; it is through no new short- 
 coming, but merely because the shadows of the 
 old have such a trick of cleaving to a man. You 
 know the earnest, sympathetic character I had 
 pictured her. Well, what do you imagine the 
 realization to be? A gay, careless, beautiful 
 creature. Those are the first words of description 
 that occur to me. They do not suggest the writer 
 of those letters, do they? To me she is a Mona 
 Lisa, laughing always with her lips, yet com- 
 pelling thought always with her eyes. Her 
 friends adore her, and despite the contradictory 
 curves in her nature I feel always a sense of its 
 fineness. A certainty that friendship from her 
 would be as a friendship from man to man with- 
 out any mistaken ideas for a foundation such as 
 generally exist between men and women. You 
 would have to know her independence of char- 
 acter to understand this idea of her. 
 
 I wish you could come down here for a few 
 days. You would like each other I am sure, and 
 against you she would build up no barricade. 
 
 I forgot to mention that Mrs. Winans knew 
 my mother, and remembers Julia as a child quite 
 well, and on the strength of those reminiscences 
 has delegated me as escort in ordinary to herself 
 in fact has adopted me in the most motherly 
 fashion. A dainty, charming, make-believe 
 mother, who is looked after still as a sort of
 
 GALEED. 147 
 
 spoiled child by her big, jolly, good-natured hus- 
 band. 
 
 Come down if you can. I believe the Winans 
 expect friends for a few days' stay, and a young 
 girl who is to be left in their charge for the sum- 
 mer. I know the male portion of the party; 
 Hallet is the name; pleasant sort of fellows. But 
 the quartette here for the past week has been in 
 many ways a pleasant affair, and I do not care to 
 have pleasant affairs banished by new-comers, 
 who swoop down with the assured presumption 
 of prior rights through first acquaintanceship. 
 
 This strikes me as being a very different tone of 
 letter from the last one I wrote you regarding my 
 artist friend. I called her friend then with more 
 certainty than I can now. The unexpected seems 
 always happening in our acquaintance, and I 
 find myself wondering if the interest in each 
 other that seemed fraught with earnest good is 
 after all to dwindle into a mere episode, a sug- 
 gestion of helpful promises empty of fulfillment. 
 
 But moralizing is out of tune with the weather 
 to-day. A stiff breeze is blowing, just enough to 
 take us out to deep water, where I think the fish 
 are waiting for us, so a good-bye to you. Write 
 me when you feel in the humor, and come to me 
 if you can. DALE. 
 
 A few days after the posting of the above a 
 large row-boat, cutting its way over the home 
 waters of the Sound, had on board a party of 
 visitors, together with the Hallets, whose coming 
 Alison had not regarded with special favor.
 
 148 IN LOVE'S DOMAINS. 
 
 There was the father, a slightly built gentle- 
 man with eye-glasses and mutton-chop whiskers 
 that, together with a tourist cap, gave him quite 
 an English air a bit of a dandy despite his gray 
 hairs and his grown children. Two of them 
 Tom, a young fellow of twenty-two, and Grace, a 
 girl of sixteen the identical Grace who had 
 helped eat Alison's candies that day at Oyster 
 Bay, and who, despite conventional introductions, 
 persisted in calling him Fra Lippo. 
 
 " Why not?" she demanded of Mrs. Holmes, 
 who had smiled questioningly at the title, " Tom 
 says it's too familiar, but I can't see that it is, 
 only to call a man by the name of a monk who 
 died generations ago. I think it gives quite an 
 ecclesiastical tone to an acquaintance, don't you?" 
 
 "An ecclesiastical tone seems rather far- 
 fetched, does it not? He was a sad bohemian I 
 mean, of course, Fra Lippo." 
 
 A little back of them sat Alison, and hearing 
 the words, smiled a little, not a very gay smile. 
 Nothing in this new acquaintance seemed to 
 partake of gayety to him, though the bit of sug- 
 gestion in her speech might have shown him 
 that her interest had been enough to make her 
 remember. 
 
 "Papa likes him," continued the girl, "and so 
 does Tom, and 1 well, I just think he's a dar 
 well, splendid," she amended, in view of Mrs. 
 Holmes' raised brows. " Fra Lippo himself could 
 not be more interesting a novelist, too! and I 
 just dote on literary people."
 
 GALEED. 
 
 "My blushes i3rompt me to tell you I am 
 here," said a voice back of them, "and the wind is 
 blowing your stage whispers straight to me, and, 
 Miss Grace, if you have any more of those pleas- 
 ant things to say, tell them to me; I will be much 
 more easily convinced of my own charms than 
 you will find Mrs. Holmes. She has an ingrained 
 disbelief in me." 
 
 "How can you say that?" asked Mrs. Winans, 
 after they had landed, and scattered over the 
 beach, or wandered into the woods. " I am quite 
 sure Judith thinks well of you, but you see her 
 own experiences have made her a little cynical as 
 to men in general." 
 
 The old lady seemed to take it for granted that 
 he knew something about those hinted at experi- 
 ences, and the mere fact that they had existed 
 made him wonder a little as to their tone, but he 
 only said: "Yes, no doubt," in a non-committal 
 way. 
 
 " You see she was very young when the mar- 
 riage took place," continued the old lady, as if in 
 extenuation of something, "and it seems such a 
 pity that it should have affected her life as it has. 
 She does not seem to forget it easily, but then she 
 never was like most girls." 
 
 "No," he said, looking at her where she sat, 
 quiet and alone in the edge of the woods, where 
 the sweet bay grows down to the sea sand, " no, 
 she is not." 
 
 "I am so glad you find her exceptional," flut- 
 tered the little gray dove in a pleased way, "so
 
 i,">0 IN LOVE'S DOMAINS. 
 
 few people know her at her best; in fact, but few 
 people ever know her at all, she is so averse to 
 society in general. " 
 
 "Yet she seems fitted for a social life," he 
 remarked, feeling that he should say something, 
 but preferring to watch lazily the subject of their 
 conversation. 
 
 " Certainly she is," assented her friend warmly, 
 "but her strange education, her queer training, 
 you know, gave her too serious a nature for a girl. 
 At seventeen she was more an atheist than any- 
 thing else." 
 
 " What?" he said, in slow surprise, raising him- 
 self on his elbow. 
 
 "Yes," she nodded, "I used to think it terrible 
 when I met them first. But her father was the 
 same; she knew nothing else. What a dreamer 
 that man was, but brilliant yes, decidedly so. 
 And such a clique as he kept about him! queer 
 companions for a girl earnest scientists, worn- 
 out pretenders, victims of either churches or gov- 
 ernments abroad; in fact, the place always seemed 
 redolent of gunpowder plots and martyrdom. His 
 house was open, and toward the last, his pockets 
 generally empty. And all the while Judith 
 growing to womanhood, with little care but that 
 of Lisa, her nurse. Just think of such dubious, 
 shifting surroundings for a girl." 
 
 " She does not seem ever to have belonged to 
 such surroundings," he answered. 
 
 " Certainly not; but as I said before, she was 
 not like other girls, else she would have been
 
 GALEED. 151 
 
 influenced by it very badly, led into all sorts of 
 wild hobbies. But as it was, she with her nature 
 was only led through it into marriage." 
 
 " Was he was her husband of the same ideas 
 in a religious way?" he asked. 
 
 "Winnett Holmes? Well, I should imagine 
 his fancies in religion, were as in all things else 
 changeable. He was a dilletante'in those days, 
 a skimmer of all things serious, but a trifler 
 always; one of the men whom the major says is a 
 good fellow among the boys, but not an angel in 
 the home circle. But Judith, with her earnest 
 way of taking tinsel for gold, did not see the 
 pretenses and the hollowness until it was too 
 late." 
 
 "No doubt it is often so in love affairs, is it 
 not?" he asked, rather lamely. 
 
 " You ought to know just as much about that 
 as an old woman like me," she returned, half- 
 teasingly; " but the worst of this was that I don't 
 believe there was any love affair about it. He 
 was infatuated with her, and had made love to 
 too many women not to know exactly how to win 
 a great, lonely, serious child, for she was little 
 more when her father died. She had a sort of 
 fancy that life would go on much the same with 
 herself and a husband, as it had been with herself 
 and her father one of simplicity and study. 
 Well, you will have to hear the major tell his 
 usual order of life to show one how short a time it 
 took to disillusion a girl of her dreamy impracti- 
 cal nature."
 
 152 IN LOVE'S DOMAINS. 
 
 " It is best after all then that she has been left 
 alone so," he said approvingly. As he glanced 
 across at her, where the others had joined her, 
 and she was skimming the water with pebbles, 
 her laugh coming to them clearly as she distanced 
 Tom Hallet in the same feat; and watching the 
 girlishness of her manner, it seemed to him only 
 right that anything in the way of a weight should 
 be removed from her life, if even by death. 
 
 "Of course it is best," said Mrs. Winans, deci- 
 dedly. "It was an unfortunate affair and has 
 changed all her ideas of happiness; now the sum 
 total to her seems to be freedom. Just to have 
 her work, and live her life alone." 
 
 "And her religion?" he queried, remembering 
 those letters of hers that seemed to him so full of 
 a helpful spirit of religion, though in reality it 
 may not have been an orthodox one. 
 
 " She never discusses that now," answered the 
 old lady, " and I have a hope that among other 
 things he made hateful to her was that sham of 
 pretense. For I think he was really too shallow 
 even to have been an honest atheist." 
 
 "An honest atheist," repeated Alison, smiling; 
 "we are not far enough advanced as yet to hear 
 that term in a commonplace way. It sounds 
 anomalitic." 
 
 " It would not if you had known her father," 
 she returned warmly. "He was an honest athe- 
 ist and an exceptional nature, one that he has 
 given in part to Judith. The sort that keeps itself 
 clean even when helping others out of the mud.
 
 GALEED. 153 
 
 But through his associates and her husband one 
 could see how much pretense there is among those 
 dissenters from faith. A desire to be thought of 
 stronger mind than those who let themselves 
 believe. There is as much pretense among athe- 
 ists as there is in the churches." 
 
 "And she has drifted away from them, you 
 think?" 
 
 " I scarcely know. She does not speak of her- 
 self with her old freedom; we have not seen much 
 of her for two years; since she has been doing 
 book illustrating she has traveled much, just 
 herself and Lisa, and the contact with strangers 
 has given a sort of veneer that she never used 
 to have, an independence, and a pretense of 
 frivolity that is not natural. Look at her now! 
 Just for the moment in that romp with Grace she 
 is herself, but in five minutes she is so likely to act 
 the most blase of mortals. I feel like lecturing her, 
 sometimes, and then again I can only feel sorry." 
 
 A little later the old lady's gossiping was 
 ended by Grace, who captured her and insisted 
 that she go over and read a lecture to the major 
 whom she declared was flirting shamefully with 
 her. And Alison lay where she had left him, his 
 eyes following Mrs. Holmes and Tom Hallet as 
 they sauntered along the beach shying pebbles 
 and talking. Now they reach a strip of boggy 
 land, and Tom holds her hand and helps her over, 
 and now he takes her parasol and saunters along 
 with his hand almost touching the white draped 
 shoulder. What decided shoulders she has, he
 
 154 IN LOVE'S DOMAINS. 
 
 thought., and at the same time, how insignificant 
 Tom Hallet coiild look. He had known him i'or 
 some time, but the idea had never struck him with 
 such force until he saw him bending toward 
 Mrs. Holmes in that impressive manner. 
 
 "What idiots some men can look when there 
 is a woman in the question," he thought, morosely, 
 and then laughed as he added, " I wonder which 
 of us Tom would think most like a fool in this 
 case?" 
 
 And he rose and stalked over to where the 
 others had, by this time, settled down again, like 
 a covey of quail, a little up from the shore, and 
 under the shade of pine boughs whose aroma was 
 so pungent, so insinuating, when touched by the 
 sea air. There had been a slight fall of rain the 
 night before, just enough to open the lips of 
 leaves and blossoms for the drink they crave 
 through the summer months, even though the 
 wealth of the sea waves creep so close about their 
 feet. Ah! that inborn longing of all things in 
 Nature! that raises faces, hopes, longings, ever 
 upward. That would place wishes among the 
 stars, and essay climbing through space, and fail- 
 ing, would draw the thing wished for down to 
 lower levels! The same principle governs souls 
 and the leaves that spring sunward. 
 
 And the idle group drew in long breaths of the 
 salt air and the balsam, and chatted indolently to 
 the accompaniment of low, rippling waves, and 
 whispering branches. 
 
 "A little like that old place of Holmes' at
 
 GALEED. 155 
 
 Elizabeth City," remarked Mr. Hallet as Alison 
 sauntered toward them. "Just the same sort of 
 water- view from that old lawn; only there, one 
 had the cypress and Spanish moss instead of 
 these northern trees, a crazy old building that 
 was. Has he managed to keep it?" 
 
 "Yes," answered the major, as he turned 
 puffing, and red in the face from pushing Grace 
 and the boat out where the water was deep 
 enough for her to paddle around, and try to row. 
 "Yes, he had decency enough to settle that on 
 her; though, so far, she has had too much pride to 
 live in it. But it is only right that he provide 
 her with a home at least. I think Claude Latante 
 would come back from his grave to set things 
 right if he could know what that daughter of his 
 has had to live through, simply because of her 
 early surroundings, that blinded her to what a 
 woman's life should be." 
 
 "I think she has set things as near right for 
 herself as they can be set now," said Mrs. 
 Winans, "only it has all changed her so terri- 
 bly." 
 
 "Naturally," assented Mr. Hallet, "I never 
 knew her or her family. But what a charming 
 scamp he was a few years ago ten or fifteen 
 with his half Byronic face, and his impressive 
 manner that was a flattery to every woman he 
 whispered to or smiled at. I saw him in Montreal 
 last summer with a rather dissipated set, and a 
 different tone to his manner. He is going down 
 hill, but he is interesting to the last."
 
 156 IN LOVE'S DOMAINS. 
 
 " Yes, Holmes had a nice way with him, a con- 
 foundedly nice way," said the major, slowly. 
 "And, in some respects, was mighty taking." 
 
 "He must have been," remarked Mrs. Winans, 
 "when he took to abusing his wife." 
 
 "Clara!" admonished her husband, "that is 
 not a comfortable thing to speak of, and, beside, 
 it is something one can only have the word of 
 servants for she, herself, would never speak." 
 
 "I acknowledge the bad taste of it," asserted 
 his wife, "but Mr. Hallet knows his story pretty 
 well, and as to Mr. Alison I forgot for the 
 moment; but 
 
 "Please feel no uneasiness on my account," 
 said Alison, hastily, " since I do not know the 
 man you speak of." 
 
 He noticed that the name was Holmes, and 
 thought it probably some relative of the woman 
 walking away down along the beach with Tom 
 Hallet. Why is it that any two people, even 
 though they be the most uncongenial, if they 
 happen to walk alone together along a sandy 
 shore, or a shady road, always have the appear- 
 ance of lovers to an onlooker? 
 
 "And to-day's laziness and picnic flavor," 
 resumed Mr. Hallet, " some way reminded me of 
 the lawn at Holmes Grove. I haven't been there 
 since the war; then I went down from Fort 
 Hampton with a party of officers and put in a 
 great time in the old house a fine old place. 
 His father was living then, so he had not had 
 a chance to get at the property."
 
 GALEED. 157 
 
 " When lie did, lie made it fly," said the major, 
 and then turning to Alison: "Have you ever 
 been down through tide-water Virginia or the 
 Carolinas?" he asked. "Lots of material there 
 for romance writers, I should say." 
 
 "Not yet; it is a trip I have been promising 
 myself. You advise the coast line?" 
 
 " Yes, if you cut across the swamps and get 
 out of the beaten paths. The region around that 
 old town we were speaking of is full of quaint- 
 ness, and some of the homes are pictures the one 
 at Holmes Grove in particular, with its pink 
 stuccoed walls covered with ivy, and shaded by 
 live oaks, and you could quarter a regiment in its 
 immense rooms." 
 
 "And its owner is an acquaintance of yours?" 
 
 " Why, yes. It is Winnett Holmes." 
 
 Alison had a queer feeling as he heard the 
 reply, a something like a slight shock, as he 
 thought: "Where was it I heard that name 
 lately? Somewhere where?" 
 
 And then, still uncertain, he asked: 
 
 " A relative of this Mrs. Holmes?" and it 
 seemed an age before some one said: 
 
 "Well, yes. A relative by marriage. He is 
 her husband." 
 
 He did not know who said it, and some way he 
 dropped out of the conversation, and they talked 
 on, while he lay there looking lazy and half 
 sleepy. All their former words that were as 
 Choctaw before had now a meaning to him 
 and such a meaning! " He is her husband."
 
 158 IN LOVE'S DOMAINS. 
 
 Then he lived! She was a man's wife! How he 
 had drifted into his ideas of her widowhood he 
 could not tell. But, after seeing her, he had never 
 once been able to associate any man' s personality 
 with hers. Even when assured of it he could not 
 bring his imagination to think of her as belong- 
 ing to anyone. So many fogs were cleared from 
 his vision of her by those words that hummed 
 through his ears for many a day: "He is her 
 husband." He could understand now the seri- 
 ous, half -starved soul that turned to an unknown 
 personality for the sympathy that had failed her 
 in the lives brought close to her own. He could 
 understand the sensitiveness that shrank from 
 meeting him on the footing established through 
 their letters. The fear that any should know her 
 story and know also that the indifference she 
 feigned at times was only a cover for a lonely 
 nature. One so unconfessing of its wants that 
 only to a piece of paper would it express itself 
 a piece of paper that was as a journal that 
 responded, that returned her an answer from one 
 who saw only her mind not her face, and whose 
 human eyes she had thought never to meet. Ah, 
 yes! He could understand it all now, with a great 
 wave of something akin to tenderness in his 
 thoughts of her. Not so much to her the 
 woman as to a being that had suffered; that had 
 turned to him; and that, in a degree that might 
 be small, was yet, through sympathy, to him a 
 possession. And then his thoughts crept nearer, 
 to their first meeting. And knowing something
 
 GALEED. 159 
 
 of the life slie had lived, he could see how she 
 had been affected by that scene at the old mill. 
 He had helped that day to shatter her faith in 
 human nature just as that other man had shown 
 her the lives men live. 
 
 Yes, it all seemed so plain to him by this new 
 light, so pitifully plain to his remorseful eyes! 
 But, in his heart, there surged a determination to 
 make it all up to her to prove somehow that her 
 belief was not utterly without cause. " If I can 
 only try to be worthy," was the one thought 
 uppermost, as he lay there on the sands. And in 
 his desire to be worthy, he scarcely questioned 
 the cause that prompted it. 
 
 Had he done so, he would have found it cen- 
 tered in an emotion, not in a reason. 
 
 What reason had he for gladness over what he 
 had heard? What reason that the waves sang 
 calmly in rippling promises for the future where, 
 before, they had only murmured softly of depths 
 in the past? Who can answer for the tides that 
 govern emotion? 
 
 Sometimes the hand of God touches a chord in 
 the human heart through which the music of 
 nature thrills. At times we call it Religion, Love, 
 or Genius, according to the moods that govern it. 
 It is the touch of the spirit that has led men to 
 sacrifice, either to die or to live for the good of 
 others. Call it what we may, yet the cause of 
 all has a touch of divinity. 
 
 He was but a man, with the passions of earth, 
 and the commonplaces of life usually to fill his
 
 160 IN LOVE'S DOMAINS. 
 
 hours, yet something of that higher spirit forged 
 a bond between himself and that woman that 
 day only the waves, and the winds, and himself 
 knew it. But a great gladness came with the 
 knowledge that now he understood, and a great 
 determination to be worthy to give her needed 
 friendship. No one else knew as he did he felt 
 so sure of that. Poor tired heart that she was! 
 And she had turned to him once with the hope of 
 easing her own load through giving help to 
 others! Never again should she find him lacking. 
 Never again should he add any hurt to the life 
 whose hurts had been so deep. 
 
 And that resolve lightened the sky for him that 
 day, and. softened all tones of feeling, until 
 finally he arose and sauntered down along the 
 sands alone. The closeness of even the most 
 pleasant of friends jarred on this new feeling 
 that had come to him. 
 
 His ideas were not connected enough to be 
 called thought they were merely impressions. 
 And the sea and the sands were the best com- 
 panions they absorb all, even bits of broken, 
 half formed speech. And they tell no secrets of 
 the living, only of the dead sometimes. 
 
 Down around a bend he saw Mrs. Holmes and 
 Haliet returning; with a new feeling he walked 
 toward them. Haliet had a kerchief about his 
 neck, and another in his hand that he was brand- 
 ishing wildly. " Mosquitoes," he said, tersely; 
 "they have followed us from that swamp back 
 there, the little fiends!"
 
 GALEED. 161 
 
 "And you?" Alison asked, turning to her. 
 
 "Oh, they keep away from Mrs. Holmes as 
 if she were poison," complained Hallet, in an 
 aggrieved way, at which the other two laughed. 
 But it was a serious affair to poor Tom, all the 
 more so from knowing he looked ridiculous. 
 
 "You are tired," said Alison, with an instinct- 
 ive air of solicitude in his manner. She looked 
 up quickly, noting the new tone. 
 
 "Not much, only the wind has made me a little 
 drowsy, I think." 
 
 "And when do you ever intend to rest?" It 
 was not so much the words as it was the strange, 
 new tone that again raised her eyes to his in a 
 half -questioning way. But she made no reply, 
 only stooped and sent a pebble skimming low 
 over the water. 
 
 "But you can not fling your weariness away 
 so," he remarked, with that same persistence she 
 had at first noted in him, and coquetted with. 
 " You must leave that tired look here by the sea, 
 and absorb instead the rest that your work will 
 need." 
 
 " What makes you lay such stress on my well- 
 being all at once?" she asked, directly. 
 
 " Why? Well, because I feel that your friends 
 should lay stress on it." 
 
 She did not answer; did not even raise her eyes 
 this time. Something in this new manner of his 
 checked the careless, cynical words she would 
 have uttered an hour before. Some assertive 
 
 spirit, some vague strength had been given him 
 11
 
 1G2 IN LOVE'S DOMAINS. 
 
 that felt itself in the right and would not be com- 
 bated. Scarcely knowing why she did so, she 
 found herself influenced by that unexpressed 
 force, and she walked in silence beside him back 
 to the others. 
 
 She heard him tacitly class himself among 
 her friends without any rebellion of her will that 
 had seemed on the defensive against him for so 
 many days past. Was she so tired with work 
 and thought that she had no will left to surprise, 
 or was she only careless. 
 
 He did not know, and he felt stubbornly that 
 he did not care, so far as it affected himself that 
 she should never drive him out of her ken again. 
 
 Hallet, still fighting mosquitoes, had surren- 
 dered the sun umbrella to Alison, and stalked 
 along ahead of them as a sort of courier, his white 
 kerchief still waving. 
 
 " Who are you flirting with so outrageously?" 
 called Grace. "Mosquitoes? Tell that to some 
 other fellow's sister! Mrs. Holmes, I'm sur- 
 prised that you allow him to be so very giddy. 
 No use making excuses. Just look through this 
 glass toward that old pier and be ashamed of 
 yourself." 
 
 Tom growlingly took the glass and growlingly 
 handed it back. Sure enough, a party of girls, 
 armed with fishing tackle, were waving white 
 handkerchiefs frantically in the direction of the 
 group on the sands. They had mistaken Tom's 
 pantomime and thought the waving of his hands a 
 signal to themselves.
 
 GALEED. 163 
 
 Amid the general laughter and the teasing of 
 Grace they reembarked, and moved their boat 
 slowly through the waters that had grown still 
 in the light of the sun that was far aslant. 
 Around a great bend they half drifted, first one 
 and then another touching the oars lazily, while 
 across the water from the fisher-girls came strains 
 of " Good-bye, my Lover, Good-bye." 
 
 The older people, even the major, had talked 
 themselves a little tired, and enjoyed the quiet 
 that had fallen over the water. Tom's eyes, 
 despite mosquito bites, did persist in turning back 
 to those forms on the old pier masculine human 
 nature, and twenty- two years of age! 
 
 Grace, inspired no doubt by those other voices, 
 began humming bits of song in an undertone, 
 and then, emboldened a little by the silence that 
 suggested attention, she gave a wider range to the 
 indistinct bits, and in a voice really fine, and 
 possessed of more expression than is generally 
 given to youth, she sang " Twickenham Ferry," 
 and passed from its brightness and jingle to 
 quieter airs attuned to the silvery tones of the 
 evening. 
 
 Mrs. Holmes, in the bow, looked a little like 
 the figure-head of a craft, her face straight ahead 
 only the warm curve of neck and cheek seen 
 by the others. But even the soft outlining of 
 drapery about the unconscious form had a new 
 beauty to Alison as he watched her. ' He could 
 not imagine her being anything but graceful 
 with the grace that does not depend on pose, but
 
 IN LOVE'S DOMAINS. 
 
 is innate in some bodies as expression is in some 
 eyes. 
 
 "You sing beautifully," she said, turning to 
 the girl. "Mr. Hallet, you should not neglect 
 the cultivation of a voice like that." 
 
 "I am afraid to humor her in it," he replied, 
 "lest the music turn a master in our family, and 
 I have a tyrannical fondness for being master 
 myself." 
 
 "I think that he is afraid I will be an opera- 
 singer," answered Grace; "that's what's the 
 matter with papa; and I will if I can get any in- 
 fluence from my friends to help me; some one of 
 whom he has the very highest opinion. If Mrs. 
 Holmes would only put in an oar I mean a word, 
 now and then, and be just a little nice to him, 
 even flirt with him in moderation, you might help 
 me to win the prize, for he is perfectly devoted to 
 you." 
 
 "Just give me a chance to say that part of it 
 for myself," suggested her father. 
 
 "I would," continued the incorrigible, "but 
 papa's timidity is his strong point oh, yes it is," 
 she insisted, in return to the laughter of the 
 others; "mamma told me she had to do half the 
 courting; she was like me, you know, and didn't 
 mind it." 
 
 "No," put in her brother; "I doubt if you 
 would mind it." 
 
 "But Fra Lippo knows that I can be very cor- 
 rect," she said, turning to him for proof. "He 
 knows I can chaperon myself famously, and the
 
 GALEED. 165 
 
 other girls as well, and lie has seen me under 
 well, circumstances." 
 
 "And opposite a mirror," he added. 
 
 " Yes," she said, with a sudden flash of memory 
 and roguishness, "and I remember where some- 
 body's eyes wandered to in that mirror but I 
 won't tell," she added, quickly, as his hand was 
 raised ever so slightly. 
 
 "Oh, yes, you will," remarked Tom, "girls 
 always tell; so you had better speak out and get it 
 off your conscience. And if it was Alison's eyes, 
 I wish you would use your knowledge and unmask 
 him to Mrs. Winans. I used to be a thing of 
 beauty, and altogether lovely in her eyes, until 
 she fished him out of the sea down here, and I 
 have been sent to the shades ever since." 
 
 Tom was a big, manly-looking fellow, but his 
 straight red hair, and his freckles, that would 
 reach a degree of prominence startling to behold, 
 rather debarred him from being classed among 
 things of beauty. And in the impression caused 
 by his ludicrous complaint, the subject of it was 
 forgotten, unless by Grace, who was retrospective. 
 
 "Don't you think it all very strange," she con- 
 tinued, "our meeting there at Oyster Bay, and 
 none of us knowing each other, and then meeting 
 here and being such chums? Why, the girls and I 
 wondered for days who Mrs. Holmes was; and 
 when the Major and Mrs. Winans came, and we 
 found she was an old friend of theirs, oh, how 
 delighted I was," she said, giving the figure-head 
 in the boat a little squeeze on the arm. " And
 
 1(3(5 IN LOVE'S DOMAINS. 
 
 then there was Fra Lippo, who looked down on 
 us for just two days, and then left us in a halo of 
 delicious doubt, and a sort of Captain Kidd 
 atmosphere." 
 
 " Are you not getting a little mixed?" suggested 
 Tom. " Fra Lippo, Captain Kidd, and Mr. Alison, 
 you should sue her for defamation of character." 
 
 " No, I am not mixed. Captain Kidd really did 
 belong to this island once, and would appear and 
 disappear in the most delightfully mysterious 
 way, and leave treasure buried in the coves." 
 
 "But Mr. Alison leaves no buried treasure on 
 our shores does he?" queried Mrs. Holmes, with- 
 out turning her head. 
 
 "No," he answered, as carelessly; "I have 
 come to find it." 
 
 "And you find us," supplemented Grace 
 "there is a compliment for us, if we want to twist 
 our imagination to fit it." 
 
 "And yours is equal to the emergency," 
 laughed her father; "you should try to utilize it 
 in romance writing." 
 
 " I will when Fra Lippo wants a literary part- 
 ner," said Grace, audaciously. "But until then, 
 I will have to conjure up romances, or sing only 
 for my own amusement." 
 
 "Aiid for our pleasure," said Mrs. Holmes, 
 kindly. 
 
 "You are a good soul," said Grace, appreci- 
 atively; "you always put one in good humor 
 with one's self, and I shall pay you in the best 
 coin I've got."
 
 GALEED. 167 
 
 " And make her sorry she spoke," added Tom 
 with brotherly candor, and a last glance at the 
 nymphs on the old pier as their boat veered 
 around a point, and gave them new scenes, new 
 lights and shadows in the water. But Grace 
 unheeding the irony of the speech gave to Mrs. 
 Holmes her promised pay in song. 
 
 In the semi-circle of the harbor, lay the little 
 town ahead of them, backed by its rolling hills 
 over which the sun shot lances of light that spar- 
 kled Hame-like on western windows. 
 
 Away out the light-house shone white in its 
 setting of shimmering opal, and around them 
 silver and rose seemed to bathe in the ever trem- 
 ulous surface of the bay, all change, all glitter 
 and glimmer; but all peace was the impression 
 given by that minor key of color on which the 
 girl's voice fell in unison, echoing the wistfulness 
 of "Some Day" with a pathos that left at least 
 one person in the boat touched by the meaning 
 in it. 
 
 " Our hearts our hands shall meet some day." 
 
 With the plaintiveness of that half-hope, and 
 the music of it there was ever after to Alison's 
 ears coupled the soft dip of caressing oars the 
 fresh atmosphere of the sea and the face of a 
 woman drooping low over the bow of the boat; 
 was it only to watch her own broken image in 
 the waves? or was it with the weight of certainty 
 that her life was lived was put beyond the pale 
 of longing hands, or the endearing of any heart 
 that would bring with it content.
 
 168 IN LOVE'S DOMAINS. 
 
 The boat grated on the sand, and as Alison 
 stopped to put up the meadow bars, Mrs. Holmes 
 spoke to him in a slightly constrained way: 
 
 " I thank you for that implied friendship," she 
 said. "After all, one can not afford to ignore 
 friendly intents; life holds too few of them. 
 That sounds selfish, though I do not feel so. I 
 think the evening and Oracle's music has left an 
 atmosphere that breathes of peace and good- will 
 toward our neighbors; it is resistless." 
 
 And thus the evening fell, and two natures, 
 someway, without a visible cause, left a barrier 
 buried in the sands, or washed in the waves of 
 the far shore. 
 
 CHAPTER 
 
 Am I not like to thee? 
 The like may sway the like. 
 
 E. B. BROWNING. 
 
 "Yes, if I had known you personally instead 
 of knowing you by letter we would never have 
 known each other so well," she said, a few days 
 later, when they had got a little used to this more 
 even tenor of acquaintanceship. 
 
 " That is rather an anomalous statement, is it 
 not? It makes one curious as to the reason." 
 
 " I am not sure there is a reason, unless it is 
 that have you ever read Daudet's article on 
 Rochefort?" 
 
 "Unless it is that have I ever read Daudet?"
 
 GALEED. 169 
 
 he repeated. "That sounds like an attempt at 
 Dutch dialect." 
 
 And then they laughed, happy people as sym- 
 pathetic people laugh at such little things; just 
 as it is the little waves that catch the arrows of 
 the sun' s flame and give back to us far-reaching 
 vistas of glory. 
 
 "I mean that I may explain by an illustration 
 of his. Roche fort writing under his own name 
 was constrained and conventional; but for a lark 
 he wrote some articles under the name of a friend, 
 when it was discovered that once left unbound by 
 the sense of his own personality he was enabled 
 to write matter with so much daring and orig- 
 inality, that at once, from an unknown journal- 
 ist, he became a personage." 
 
 "And you think personal knowledge would 
 have fettered the thoughts you expressed to me 
 through ink and paper?" 
 
 "Certainly. I could not have looked squarely 
 in your face and been so presumptuous as to find 
 fault with or criticise your work, so I took the 
 mean advantage of doing it and keeping myself 
 hidden. You see, sometimes one's imagination 
 needs food for expression, and in a moment of 
 that mental desperation, I seized on your poor 
 book, dissected it, and advocated a higher 
 standard of work, even though the ones you 
 had were higher than I could have kept up to 
 myself." 
 
 "I think not," he said decidedly, " your ideals 
 are higher than mine; I know it because those
 
 170 IN LOVE'S DOMAINS. 
 
 letters of yours brought back to me the purer 
 ones of a half-forgotten boyhood, the sort of 
 ideals that grow rather dim and rusty in our later 
 days so far away that our eyes can barely see 
 their forms." 
 
 ' 'So long as one can see them at all there is hope, ' ' 
 she answered slowly. " It is only when they are 
 dashed down in ruins about one' s feet that hope 
 dies out and despair takes its place, and nothing 
 supersedes that." 
 
 " If I said so you would tell me that resigna- 
 tion could help to do so, and in its wake would 
 come peace," he said, drifting into her ow T n mnn- 
 ner of speech. They were silent for a little while 
 looking out over the meadows and the bay. She 
 said nothing, and he, watching her, wished that 
 just for once he could see a light in her eyes 
 that was not transitory, a content that was not 
 fleeting. 
 
 ' ' You have known those broken ideals so well '{ ' ' 
 he said at last. " You are young to speak with 
 that conviction as of experience." 
 
 "I have had much that the world would call 
 experience," she answered in that same low, 
 slow way, "if by the word you mean enduring 
 through many phases of life and thought ah, 
 the thoughts! Do you know, I think it is the 
 thoughts and their effects that are hardest to live 
 through; harder even than the realities are the 
 scourges of the imagination." 
 
 "To the imaginative, yes," he said, his eyes 
 turning away from her face that had grown pained
 
 GALEED. 171 
 
 as if from memories. "Do you know," he went 
 on, "I think you have lived too much alone, 
 too much in yourself. You have given only 
 the careless side of your nature to your social 
 friends." 
 
 She smiled again at that. "I give them only 
 what they want," she answered. "In society 
 people are acquaintances, seldom friends I found 
 it so, but it depends much on oneself, I suppose. 
 If one has nothing to give in exchange one can 
 expect nothing, and when society and I were on 
 bowing terms those broken ideals had fallen into 
 a chaos about me, and over them I could not see 
 very clearly, and so well, I found an old house 
 in North Carolina, and an old servant who loved 
 me a good exchange I have never regretted." 
 
 Her eyes wide-earnest turned to him as she 
 spoke. How clear they were! How easily asso- 
 ciated with all ideas of purity! He thought in 
 a disjointed way of white violets with the dew 
 still on them, of summer seas in the virginity of 
 dawn. He could imagine her as stepping with 
 untainted garments from out that moral wreck 
 that had so nearly encompassed her. He could 
 see her so clearly back in that old home trying to 
 gather up the broken threads of girlish life over 
 again, and through all the heart aches, yet the 
 wistful determination of sufficiency unto herself 
 an unspoken vow of isolation that no sympathy 
 had been strong enough to break. 
 
 Comparisons are odious often, but something 
 akin to them came uncalled to him as he watched
 
 172 IN LOVE'S DOMAINS. 
 
 her. He had known so many of the loves of 
 life, and this was only a friendship; yet back into 
 the past the rest crowded as into a night. And 
 of himself, some words of the book his mother 
 had trusted in came to him; some words of "a 
 light that shineth in a dark place until the day 
 dawn, and the day star arise in your hearts." 
 
 Scarcely even gathering his impressions into 
 collected thought, he yet felt dimly that the dark- 
 ness had been long, and that the day star that 
 rose sweetest and clearest in the hearts of men 
 was friendship. 
 
 Her beauty had not appealed to him as it had 
 done at first when she had seemed alternately a 
 Francesca and a Mona Lisa. The story he had 
 heard that day on the beach had given such a dif- 
 ferent tinge to his interest in her. 
 
 He could scarcely tell the color of her eyes, 
 though he saw always the sadness in them that 
 the laughing mouth tried so often to contradict. 
 He found himself wishing that Blanche knew 
 her, at least he told himself that he wished it. 
 And then again he could not think of any other 
 personality taken into that half compact of theirs 
 without jarring on the tone of it. 
 
 Into the old burial ground of the village they 
 strolled on their first walk alone. 
 
 " I can seldom pass one, especially an old one, 
 without going in," she said, in extenuation of her 
 wandering feet. * ' You see, at my old home many 
 of the tombs are very old and very picturesque. 
 All the people who cared most for me are under
 
 GALEED. 173 
 
 the myrtles there, and the myrtle means rest to 
 me north or south." 
 
 "The myrtles mean love, do they not?" he 
 asked. " I think they are given that meaning by 
 the poets." 
 
 " The poets are wiser than we plodders," she 
 returned; "they know that love and death go 
 hand in hand, so they give the significance of the 
 affections to the vine of the graves. 9 ' 
 
 "That seems wrong," he contested; "love 
 should have some symbol of life, of unchangeable 
 existence." 
 
 "You think so," she smiled; "that is the 
 desire of us grasping human beings. But the 
 Fates know better." 
 
 " The Fates, you believe in them?" 
 
 " In the Fates, or the gods, or whatever rules; 
 they know that if love was made unchangeable 
 on earth, undying, that paradise would have no 
 allurements left for humanity." 
 
 " It means so much to you?" he asked abruptly, 
 surprised at her decided statement, and feeling in 
 a queer sort of way that love must be known to 
 be analyzed from that point of view, and it gave 
 a bit of sharpness to his tone as he said, "it 
 means so much to you?" 
 
 "I think it means God," she answered, "and 
 that only glimpses are given to souls here. 
 Then death, or change, comes. But after a soul 
 has known the fullness of love on earth, God 
 must always after that be nearer; the promises of 
 Heaven must mean as much more, because the
 
 174 IN LOVE'S DOMAINS. 
 
 eyes have seen, and the heart has in part proved 
 the prophecies." 
 
 " And they could ever imagine her an atheist?" 
 he thought, with a little impatience, "but after 
 all they can not know her as I do." 
 
 But close on that conviction, with its vague, 
 sweet tinge of possession, there came a somber 
 wonder if some one some time had taught her that 
 meaning of God, if, after all, it was that change that 
 had left her eyes sad. There seemed to be nothing 
 more to be said. Her words had ended that sub- 
 ject, but to him, at least, the words were suggest- 
 ive of much thought, and in silence he stooped to 
 gather some of the azure starred blossoms that 
 had led him to revelations. 
 
 " So here I have found you," said the chirpy 
 voice of Mrs. Winans behind them; " we saw you 
 through the gateway. What a place to bring up 
 in! and upon my word, gathering myrtles with 
 Mrs. Holmes." 
 
 "No, I gather them alone, and I give them to 
 you," he returned, and the old lady wore them in 
 pleased appreciation of the attention Alison never 
 failed to give her, and, wearing them, never 
 guessed how the blood had quickened in the lin- 
 gers that plucked them, or how strange his voice 
 sounded in his own ears as he answered her, in 
 tones from which the earnestness was dropped 
 with a sense of loss. 
 
 "It is like falling back to earth," was the 
 thought that came to him as he hailed the 
 major, made a whip of willow branches for
 
 GALEED. 175 
 
 Grace, and walked back to the house with Mrs. 
 Winans. 
 
 Even to himself he did not think to say from 
 where. 
 
 But that evening when some of them were plan- 
 ning an excursion for the next day, he said to her: 
 
 " We must try to find some place with life and 
 light in it. Our first walk alone was to a grave- 
 yard, if one was superstitious they would no 
 doubt think that an evil augury." 
 
 "lam superstitious," she replied, "but I am 
 not oppressed with evil forebodings because of 
 that." 
 
 "You! Judith?" said Mrs. Winans, in aston- 
 ishment. " I never imagined you superstitious." 
 
 "Perhaps because we have never happened to 
 speak of the subject," returned Mrs. Holmes, 
 quietly; "but lean imagine no religion in the 
 mind of one who has no superstition!" 
 
 "Why, Judith! what a singular view to take," 
 said Mrs Winans, a little weakly; while Alison 
 stood looking straight out at the few lights glit- 
 tering on the night waters, but his ears always 
 open to the sound of her voice. 
 
 " I do not think it so curious, it seems only 
 natural, at least to me it is," she replied; "the 
 two can not be separated; each is a belief in the 
 supernatural in the power of things unseen by 
 human eyes." 
 
 "But hang it, little captain!" burst out the 
 major, " ideas of that sort smack so strongly of 
 the table-tipping order of things whose devotees
 
 176 IN LOVE'S DOMAINS. 
 
 have to hunt around so often for bail in the dis- 
 trict courts. Don't muddle your brain with that 
 sort of thing." 
 
 " I don't believe I am very much muddled, and 
 as to the spiritualists' religion, I have never been 
 in one of their churches or places of meeting in 
 my life, yet if they believe in the Christ, as I 
 understand they do, what matter if He is termed 
 by them a medium, or the Son of God? It does 
 not alter the fact of the message which Christians 
 believe He brought from His Father, and without 
 superstition we never would have believed that 
 message." 
 
 " But Judith," remonstrated Mrs. Winans; "it 
 is not superstition that gives belief in the Bible 
 and the coming of the Son, it is Christian 
 faith." 
 
 " But that is no more proof, it is no more tangi- 
 ble than the thing you call superstition," returned 
 the younger woman. "And somewhere in the 
 book of Hebrews there is a definition of that word 
 faith. It says: ' Faith is the substance of things 
 hoped for the evidence of things not seen.' 
 Now, what else is superstition, except that it 
 believes it sees?" 
 
 " I really can not argue on that or any other 
 question," confessed Mrs. Winans. "I always 
 remember next day the things I might have said 
 on my side. But superstition has always seemed 
 so weak to me." 
 
 " Yet many people who are not weak have 
 believed in the supernatural. You see," she
 
 GALEED. 177 
 
 said, turning half laughing to Alison, "I have 
 quite a line of ancestors who have lived and lis- 
 tened to the Banshees in the bogs of Ireland, to 
 say nothing of seeing the ' wee folks who dance 
 in the moonlight o' nights and put spells on the 
 yield of the best milch cow ' for a prank, some- 
 times. Oh, yes, it would be tine times that be 
 come to the world if one didn't stand by their 
 forefathers." 
 
 "Nonsense!" laughed the major, at the touch 
 of brogue given her words. "Your father was of 
 English and French parentage." 
 
 "Yes, poor papa! I think it was the mixture 
 of antagonistic blood in him that always kept him 
 harrassed so, either for himself or other people. 
 His French impulse was always kicking over the 
 traces of his English caution and getting him into 
 discredit with himself." 
 
 "But that gives you no Irish blood," said the 
 major. 
 
 "And do you think I only had one parent?" 
 she retorted. " Where would I get the name of 
 Judith, if not from an Irish mother?" 
 
 "Yes, it is the one thing about you that does 
 not seem quite right," said Grace, snuggling up 
 to her in what the major termed an insinuating 
 sort of way. " Judith Latante? Yes, that sounds 
 well enough, but the first Judith was a sort of 
 blood and thunder executioner a melodramatic 
 character. Now, you are not a bit like that." 
 
 "But you see they did not know what I might 
 
 be capable of when I was born," smiled Judith; 
 12
 
 178 IN LOVE'S DOMAINS. 
 
 "and you do not know yet, because I have not 
 died." 
 
 "Judith was not melodramatic," remarked 
 Alison; "the book is a tragic poem." 
 
 "That sounds nicer than my idea," assented 
 Grace. " Yes, I could fancy you either tragic or 
 poetical. I remember when I first saw you; I 
 thought you looked like Lucille." 
 
 Alison wondered if she impressed every one 
 with that likeness to ideal characters all so 
 widely different yet all linked to herself with 
 the subtle bonds of beauty or spirituality, by that 
 something that makes us see the thoughts of 
 poets of the past, materialized and looking at us 
 clearly through the eyes of some present. 
 
 "I think you could live Judith's life," he said 
 to her as Grace sauntered down with the major 
 for some cigars in the village, and Mrs. Winans 
 was chatting inside the parlor with the landlady. 
 
 "You think so? But Judith was a model of 
 piety. I am not pious." 
 
 " No, but you are religious. You show that in 
 all you do and say, in all your influence on others. 
 Please do not smile. I mean what I say. I know 
 why you doubt, but some time, if you would but 
 listen, I could feel like speaking to you of that." 
 
 " It does not matter, why should you?" 
 
 Neither seemed to think then how that remark 
 of hers granted an understanding of what his 
 thoughts were, that first subtle touch of a spirit, 
 all ages have been shaped by. 
 
 "Because I know that, in several ways, I am in
 
 OALEED. 179 
 
 a false light to you. All of us are bad enough. But 
 I would like you to know that well, many 
 things. I have you been told that I am to be 
 married before very long?" 
 
 "No," she said. Only that no comment, no 
 question, and drew a white shawl from about her 
 waist up about her throat. 
 
 He did not know whether that monosyllable 
 meant unconcern, or whether her own bonds had 
 made even the subject distasteful. 
 
 "I thought perhaps Mr. Hallet had mentioned 
 it to you. He knows the lady. I thought I 
 wanted you to know." 
 
 "Yes." 
 
 It was a kind assent, a sort of permission to go 
 on. But it was not the sort of response needed 
 to make a man very communicative; it was a gra- 
 cious tolerance. 
 
 She was sitting with one arm around the post 
 of the verandah. Her face leaning against the 
 white wood was outlined in profile perfectly clear 
 in the starlight. So close, his outstretched hand 
 could have touched knee or shoulder. Yet all at 
 once she seemed as far removed from him in spirit 
 as the light-house down the bay, where her eyes 
 were looking. 
 
 "Because your influence, your letters made me 
 think of those bonds more seriously than either 
 she or I had thought of them before," he con- 
 tinued; " and I wanted you to know that if earn- 
 est happiness ever comes to us, it will have been 
 through your good help to me."
 
 180 IN LOVE'S DOMAINS. 
 
 k ' To you and your wife?' ' She changed neither 
 her glance nor her tone, her face as expressionless 
 as if she had not heard. 
 
 "Yes," to both. " Because you gave me the 
 desire to be worthy of a wife's regard, and that 
 is, I think, one of the first steps toward happi- 
 ness for two people; do you not think so? It 
 means beginning life over again, with a laudable 
 object to work for." 
 
 She did not reply to that query; women are 
 curious compounds. It is said of them that they 
 never care to hear a love story, unless it is of a 
 love for themselves. Her silence brought that 
 idea flitting across his mind. But it was such an 
 incongruity when applied to her, that he dismissed 
 it with a half impatience toward himself. It 
 would not have appeared such an improbable 
 thought of any other woman. But of her! 
 
 He wondered if she was going to say anything, 
 or whether she was too little interested for com- 
 ment. Directly, however, she spoke, and both 
 the words and her tone had a curious ring. 
 
 ' Then you have discussed me, discussed my 
 letters and thoughts with your wife? " 
 
 " Yourself, yes; the subjects of our letters, no. 
 Their effects are all she has seen. But why do 
 you say ' wife ' in that manner? She is not my 
 wife until we are married." 
 
 4< No! " and she smiled a little not a very 
 mirthful smile. "Does the bond of marriage 
 depend, then, on ceremony alone?" 
 
 The question gave him a little shock a queer
 
 GALEED. 181 
 
 feeling as if some one was sitting in judgment on 
 his emotions that should be holy, and that had 
 been only amusing that had vibrating through 
 it ever the empty tinkle of cymbals, not the 
 music of nature attuned by the touch of divinity. 
 
 Why was it that so often she had the faculty 
 of showing him with a word, a glance, some lack 
 in himself that had never made itself so plain 
 through his own visage? Too subtle for analysis 
 were the impressions borne to him by that tone. 
 He knew only that they sent the blood with a 
 little shiver to his heart at a wild, half -formed 
 thought of what marriage might mean to a man, 
 a marriage such as her words suggested. For a 
 moment he closed his eyes at the mere idea; but 
 back of the shut lids there was photographed a 
 clearly-marked profile of a serious face a face 
 with eyes as pure as the stars eyes that looked 
 at him from so great a height and just then it 
 seemed as if the light in their depths must shine 
 always through his life. 
 
 All those mad fancies chased through his brain 
 all witcheries unbound by the closeness of the 
 cool face with its full red lips against which her 
 finger rested ever so slightly. All at once he felt 
 a blunt inclination to say: "Why are you at 
 times so beautiful to me? or, being beautiful, 
 why do you stand so alone from other women, 
 and on a pedestal a man's arms dare not touch? 
 Be a little more human; faulty enough to under- 
 stand imperfections in others." 
 
 But fast as those unspeakable thoughts flitted
 
 1S2 IN LOVE'S DOMAINS. 
 
 through his brain, yet the silence between them 
 appeared endless, at least to him, and when he 
 spoke none would imagine that his unuttered 
 thoughts were: "Give me your hands; lean to- 
 ward me! For once let me look at you from the 
 pillow of your breast! " 
 
 But he said instead: "Marriage should mean 
 more than the mere ceremony your tone decries. 
 But to look on oneself as a part in the ideal mar- 
 riage, one must first feel himself worthy he must 
 feel purified from the reekings of the world. I 
 am sadly lacking in that excellence." 
 
 "Does she think so?" The question was evi- 
 dently one of impulse, for in an instant she 
 added: " Pardon me! do not answer that. It was 
 a thoughtless question; it is nothing to me." 
 
 "But I would rather think it is something to 
 you," he said, quietly; "that is if you do not 
 object. If you could only make up your mind 
 to give me even a little of the notice personally 
 that you used to give to my work." 
 
 "I give it to your work still," she said, in a 
 kind tone. " But I think I felt from your letters 
 that you were more alone, that you needed help 
 and interest more than I find you do." 
 
 "I do need them," he said, rising, and walking 
 to the far end of the verandah. A moment he 
 stood there, and then came back, stopping and 
 looking down at her. She had not moved; what 
 a faculty she had of making a statue of herself 
 in more ways than one! 
 
 I think," he continued, "that I shall always 
 
 ..
 
 GALEED. 183 
 
 need them, and to-night I have a wish that you 
 were either my sister or my brother. Can you 
 understand that?" 
 
 " Yes, I can;" and for the first time she looked 
 up at him frankly. 
 
 "If you were, do you know what I would want 
 to do to-night?" he asked, "to go with you some- 
 where from the world, to let the wind-sprites skim 
 our boat out of the ken of the commonplace, and 
 into the realms where I have an idea you belong; 
 on a higher plane than I can climb to. But fail- 
 ing in which I have sometimes a strong desire, 
 an unworthy desire to lift you down from. Can 
 you understand that, also? ' ' 
 
 How much one can live in an instant! Ages 
 seemed to revolve past him as he stood there 
 gazing into those serious, startled eyes, and real- 
 ized that his impulse had got the better of him and 
 he had said the truth to her; but one of the truths 
 that should be denied, not confessed. Someway 
 he felt always that he had been forced into it; 
 something in her presence always impelled him to 
 truths whether they counted for or against him; 
 and the depth of feeling in his tones expressed as 
 much as the words themselves. 
 
 After a little it was she who broke the silence; 
 there was no pretense of not knowing. 
 
 "Yes, I can understand it," she said slowly, 
 "and you are right when you say it is unworthy 
 of you, of myself. What have I done, or been, 
 that you feel like speaking to me so? " 
 
 The inquiry was made without embarrassment;
 
 184 IN LOVE'S DOMAINS. 
 
 evidently she said truly when she had claimed 
 wealth of experience in life. It had taught her in 
 most things to be mistress of herself. And yet at 
 that last question he almost felt that there were 
 tears in her voice. It made him feel like a brute. 
 Why did she not get angry and cut him as he 
 deserved? he asked himself, savagely. 
 
 "You have done or been nothing that has not 
 been right in my eyes," he said; " be sure always 
 of that." 
 
 "Then why " 
 
 " I am not sure I can tell you, or that any one 
 would understand," he answered rapidly, half- 
 recklessly. " But you have all my respect, all 
 my regard, even while you make me forget all 
 things conventional. With you I have such a 
 strong desire to be only a man, to think of you 
 as only a woman, to set the world beyond us, to 
 speak to you thoughts as one would tell them to 
 one's own conscience, all the best and the worst, 
 told with all truth." 
 
 " And the object?" 
 
 How cool she was! he thought; would a volcano 
 ever change that self-possession? Yet he knew 
 she did feel, he knew she was touched by all earn- 
 estness, and that knowledge helped him. 
 
 " The object I think is a little like that which 
 sends penitents to priests." 
 
 She raised her hand ever so slightly at that. 
 
 "Don't!" she said uncertainly; "you scarcely 
 know me. I am far from the thoughts of priest- 
 hood."
 
 GALEED. 185 
 
 ' k Perhaps, but you compel thoughts such as 
 the priests strive for. You bring me closer to 
 nature that reasons from the heart and feelings, 
 not from the intellect. You may resent my 
 speaking like this to you to-night. If you judge 
 from the social standpoint, I am presuming to you 
 and not worth the trust of the girl I told you 
 about. But gauging myself from the origin of 
 this half-confession, I know different. You help 
 me to be more worthy the trust when you compel 
 these truths." 
 
 She made no comment, and after a little he 
 added: " You are offended, you think me all 
 unworthy?' ' 
 
 "I do not know," she said at last, "I am a 
 slow thinker, I am trying to follow those seem- 
 ingly incompatible statements of yours. No, I 
 can not think you all unworthy; if you were, you 
 would be less honest. I am willing to believe 
 that those unworthy thoughts of yours are strays 
 of impulse; they do not belong to you I mean 
 to the best that is in you." 
 
 "You are better to me than I deserve," he 
 said. 
 
 " Then, if you want me to judge by the heart, 
 instead of the world's standard, you must try to 
 deserve the best. That would be the highest 
 compliment friendship can hope for." 
 
 Just then Grace and the major returned, arm in 
 arm, from the village. 
 
 " It is a lovely evening for a walk," she called, 
 as she came up across the sward; "you should
 
 186 IN LOVE'S DOMAINS. 
 
 not stick so lazily to that porch," and then she 
 ran up the steps and went over to Mrs. Holmes. 
 
 "How still you two are?" she said, looking 
 from one to the other, " as if you had not stirred 
 or spoken since we left. Do be more companion- 
 able," and then she slipped her arm around the 
 shoulder in the white shawl. "Do you know, 
 Fra Lippo, I think you should write a story about 
 this lovely old place and have Queen Judith here 
 illustrate it. The surroundings are enough to 
 inspire even me. The walk from the village in 
 this starlight is a continuous lover's lane just 
 the place for romances. I felt tempted to make 
 love to the major, but he wouldn't let me; told 
 me to go ahead through the stile and tell him if 
 that was the one where the step went down. 
 Just think of that for gallantry! A place sure, 
 you know, to be marked with kisses of a summer' s 
 evening. I was wondering how many love stories 
 that stile had counted, and major told me not to 
 be silly." 
 
 "Good reason to," growled the major, who had 
 just reached the head of the steps. "A girl 
 expecting one to calculate imaginary kisses over 
 a turn-stile especially other fellows' kisses. 
 Have a cigar, Alison?" 
 
 " Now, if the real Fra Lippo was here he could 
 have counted qiiite a number of his own, could he 
 not, Mr. Alison? In that respect you're ever so 
 much behind your namesake; oh yes yon are, you 
 sober sides! Still, papa did tell me something 
 interesting about you this morning before he left,
 
 GALEED. 187 
 
 and I am so glad. It's so romantic even to know 
 one's friends are in love, even if one is not 
 oneself, and Tom says I'm too young. Is it a 
 secret? If so, I won't tell, but I know her. 
 Didn't she ever speak to you of me? Is it a 
 secret?" 
 
 "I think not, here," remarked Alison, "if it 
 were you would divulge it in the very act of pro- 
 mising to keep it. It is no secret from Mrs. 
 Holmes, if that is what you mean." 
 
 " Isn't that lovely?" asked the girl, giving Mrs. 
 Holmes a little, appreciative hug. "A real love 
 story to interest ourselves in. That is better than 
 the vague, supposititious romances of a turn- 
 stile." 
 
 And then Mrs. Winans called her, and she 
 lugged the major in to be interviewed by his little 
 superior officer for their long absence. 
 
 The other two, halting just an instant, followed. 
 But in that pause he said to her: 
 
 " You are better to my erratic moods than I 
 deserve. No one could be like you." 
 
 And she answered: " I hope no one ever will 
 be. Curb those erratic strays of impulse for her 
 sake and your own. No other person's opinion 
 should enter into your lives."
 
 188 IN LOVE'S DOMAINS. 
 
 CHAPTER VIII. 
 
 And hold the torch out while the winds are rough 
 Between our faces to cast light on each ? 
 I drop it at thy feet, I can not teach 
 My hand to hold my spirit so far off. 
 
 E. B. BROWNING. 
 
 Whatever thoughts the night had held for her, 
 she met him in the morning with more lightness 
 of manner than they had known the evening 
 before. 
 
 With a pair of oars over her shoulder, and a 
 sketch-book in her hand, she met him at the porch 
 steps in the late morning. 
 
 " I am waiting for Grace," she explained; " we 
 are going to that wooded point out across the water 
 there. I have learned its Indian name, Musham- 
 mack." 
 
 "I was talking yesterday to some half-breed 
 Indians who live back here in the country," he 
 remarked. " You may find some interesting types 
 among them for sketches. If you care to go I 
 will take you some day." 
 
 Grace returned in time to hear the proffer. 
 
 " I wonder if for that promise for the future he 
 expects an invitation to go with us to-day?" she 
 queried, in an audible aside. 
 
 Mrs. Holmes dropped her head and looked at 
 the girl quizzically from under her brows.
 
 GALEED. 189 
 
 "I wonder?" she echoed, while Alison stood 
 half -laughing, awaiting the verdict. 
 
 " Yes, let us take him," suggested Grace. "He 
 won't be in your way, you can sketch just the 
 same, and it is so much nicer to have a cavalier. 
 I think so, though you are too independent to 
 need one. But ' Amon ' may prove too much for 
 me to read. I may want to gossip. You will not 
 care to be bothered with me, so you had better 
 take him; it will be money in your pocket." 
 
 "Miss Grace, you are as much of a politician 
 as you are a musician," said Alison at her elbow. 
 " An argument like that should persuade anyone 
 of my utility. But she still looks dubious, try 
 again." 
 
 ' ' Of course little captain will take you," said the 
 major through the window. ' ' I am taking the wife 
 for a drive over to East Hampton or I would go. 
 They need some one along, so let me delegate you 
 instead of myself." 
 
 " But we really do not need a cavalier, major," 
 protested Mrs. Holmes, smilingly. 
 
 "Yes you do, a rolling pig might upset your 
 boat." 
 
 "I can swim." 
 
 " A warrior of the Montauk tribe might try 
 to kidnap you in the woods." 
 
 "I can run." 
 
 'I rather think," suggested Alison, " that some 
 one will be needed to cut the leaves of novels, and 
 sharpen pencils for sketches." 
 
 " I have nothing strong enough to put against
 
 190 IN LOVE'S DOMAINS. 
 
 that argument," laughed Mrs. Holmes. "If 
 Grace will see to an extra slice of bread in the 
 lunch-basket you can come along." 
 
 So they went down to the shore together, the 
 three. But after getting the oars in the boat 
 and arranging their books and lunch-basket, he 
 said: 
 
 "I really had not thought of going with you 
 until Miss Grace mentioned it. So if you would 
 rather not have your little sociable encroached 
 upon, I will hunt another point of the compass. 
 I had this portfolio intending to make a break 
 for the woods, and write to-day, so " 
 
 "Oh you deserter!" began Grace. But Mrs. 
 Holmes only remarked, brusquely, "get in," 
 and then as he shoved off the boat and did so, 
 she added, "no, I will do the rowing, that is 
 why I come in a small boat. I like the exercise." 
 
 " Yes going out," remarked Grace, ironically, 
 "but our landlord said it took hard work to 
 bring a boat back from that point when the tide 
 is ebbing; I didn't dare mention it when on shore 
 for fear of offending our captain, and being left 
 ashore. But my prime reason for suggesting an 
 escort was, that I might be certain of getting 
 home for my supper." 
 
 The captain just turned her head for one with- 
 ering glance at the confessor, and then went on 
 rowing with the strong, flexible wrist movement 
 that Alison noted and commended in silence. 
 The slow color crept to her face as she sent the 
 light boat evenly over the water. That bit of pink
 
 GALEED. 191 
 
 in her cheeks took from her the coolness of the 
 night before. She looked so much more human. 
 And Alison, having just posted a long letter to 
 Blanche, one written under the influence of their 
 conversation in the starlight, and therefore an 
 earnest one, had within him a sense of duty done 
 that allowed him as a reward the luxury of 
 to-day's indulgence. 
 
 He was very quiet, content only to watch her 
 and remember her words of last night. Just 
 once he addressed her directly, and then in a 
 rather abrupt way. 
 
 " How did you know who I was when you saw 
 me that day in the dining-room?" 
 
 He did not call her by name, but she answered 
 at once, granting quick understanding of his 
 meaning. 
 
 " There was a very bad wood- cut of you in one 
 of the New York dailies a few weeks before, nat- 
 urally I looked at it, and there happened to be 
 enough likeness to recognize you by." 
 
 That was all, there was no further comment. 
 It had puzzled him often to remember that glance 
 across the tables, and at last his curiosity had 
 prompted the query. 
 
 Up on the point of Mushammack they climbed, 
 and from it the reach of water with its wooded 
 bits jutting out into it, and the village away 
 around the curve, and the fields in distant patches 
 showing like a snow-fall in their decking of white 
 daisies, and the shimmer of the waves below, and 
 the scent of the near pines in the scrubby wood
 
 192 IN LOVE'S DOMAINS. 
 
 back of them it was all so fresh, so sweet with 
 the breath of late June, that it put summer-time 
 in the blood as one gazed. 
 
 "There are some delightfully stubborn comers 
 of the world that refuse to be civilized," said 
 Mrs. Holmes, drawing in great breaths of the salt 
 air, "and I am glad to find so many of them 
 around this end of the island." 
 
 "Yes," answered Alison, " the original growth 
 of oak clings as closely to the soil as the original 
 owners. I was surprised to find a village of Mon- 
 tauk descendants still farming and fishing on 
 their old hunting-grounds so near the harbor. 
 Some of them are of remarkably pure blood, and 
 their somber eyes always seem to regard our race 
 as interlopers, although they have grown too dig- 
 nified to discuss the question with us of late 
 years." 
 
 "They look witchy to me," acknowledged 
 Grace. " I met one of the women on the road with 
 a basket yesterday, and thought her a gypsy. I was 
 cogitating whether or not to ask her to tell my 
 fortune, but one look in her eyes when we came 
 closer upset that idea. She was only a little 
 taller than I, but she seemed to look down on me 
 from immeasurable heights, and I collapsed, as it 
 were. I have scarcely recovered my self-assur- 
 ance as yet." 
 
 Mrs. Holmes said nothing that would lead him 
 to think that she ever remembered the interview 
 of last evening. She was once more the captain 
 of the major. She was enjoying the morning, the
 
 GALEED. 193 
 
 air, the surroundings, with the vim of impressions 
 new born, stopping to analyze nothing, just con- 
 tent to exist and enjoy. 
 
 1 ' I think I have a bit of Indian in my own blood, ' ' 
 she remarked, as she settled herself with her back 
 against a tree to sketch the little town in the 
 circle of the bay; " the wild woods always attract 
 me, and this point, with its Indian name, brought 
 me out here, though I am sure its power would not 
 have been so compelling had its name been Daw- 
 son' s Point or Jenkins' Woods; it is the sympathy 
 with the Indian nature, reaching toward their 
 names." 
 
 "Their names are an awful jumble," protested 
 Grace. " I can't see any beauty in them." 
 
 "That is because you do not learn their mean- 
 ings," answered Alison; "most of them are very 
 poetical none are so insipid as ours that have 
 superseded them. Do you know that to the most 
 of them the milky way is called the way of the 
 birds?" 
 
 " Why the way of the birds?" asked Grace, and 
 Mrs. Holmes went on sketching, while their escort 
 told them of the old idea, that the soul of our 
 human dead took the form of a white bird, and so 
 flew to the happy hunting-ground. And that the 
 brood so loosed from prison, flew upward, upward 
 until their wings felt of that air path leading to 
 the great gate, and the light of the stars, shining 
 on their snowy breasts, made a great glory in the 
 nights, and so it was called the 'way of the 
 birds.' " 
 
 13 
 
 \
 
 194 IN LOVE'S DOMAINS. 
 
 That and many other bits of Indian history and 
 mythology he told them, with the fishing and 
 hunting-grounds of the Montauks spread around 
 them, as the territory of many of the scenes. 
 
 It all seemed so natural that they should dis- 
 cuss those superstitions that arose from the 
 untrained souls of those children of nature. They 
 were so out of and above the world, there between 
 the wood and the water, where the porpoise- 
 rolling pigs splashed and turned in the sunlight. 
 And like three children let loose, they ran races 
 along the sands, when the books and pencils grew 
 heavy in the hands, and the fresh winds called 
 them. And then Mrs. Holmes, with some pretty 
 pink shells as trophies, again climbed up over 
 the point, and from the wood above, could see the 
 other two away along the beach, Grace filling both 
 her own pockets and her escort's with the bits of 
 shell or pebble that caught her eye. How well 
 they looked together, she thought, he so tall, so 
 dark; she so girlish and fair. They had sat down 
 on the bow of the boat, and Grace was emptying 
 her treasures into his hat, and evidently sorting 
 them. They made a prettj^ summer picture; and 
 again she picked up pencil and paper, and rapidly 
 sketching, caught the outlines of the two figures, 
 and then like a flash came the memory of that 
 other day by the shore, and another blonde head 
 that had leaned so near to his own, and she threw 
 the tablet and pencil from her, and laid down in a 
 tired fashion on the grass, her head on her arm. 
 She fell to wondering if that other girl who was to
 
 GALEED. 195 
 
 be his wife had blonde hair, or was she dark? was 
 she gentle and homelike, or was she proud and 
 stately? 
 
 She had not thought of it the night before. 
 She had known only a little shock and then a 
 strange wonder in her mind as he told her first of 
 his intended marriage, and almost in the next 
 breath that declaration of interest, that want of 
 herself. She could almost hear the thrill in his 
 tones as he had said: 
 
 "Can you understand that, too?" 
 
 Did she understand? Did he even understand 
 himself as yet? She tried to think as she lay 
 there, why did he feel the want of other compan- 
 ionship when he had his betrothed? The thought 
 of fickleness entered her mind, but it did not 
 belong to his eyes as she had known them, and 
 she found herself whispering a rebellious "no" 
 to the grass and the pink shells close beside her. 
 
 There was a half wish in her heart that there 
 were no bonds of the future about him. She 
 could never associate the idea of happiness with 
 bonds of any kind. 
 
 That was no doubt a narrow view to take of it 
 a prejudiced view taken from the standard of her 
 own experience. But he had been so frank with 
 her so evidently with a desire to be honest, and 
 through it there had been that minor chord of 
 feeling that asked understanding that she won- 
 dered why it was all so. Did those bonds grow 
 irksome? Why did he seem so alone in his work 
 and ambitions?
 
 196 IN LOVE'S DOMAINS. 
 
 And then she fell to thinking of this new, 
 strange element that had crept into his manner 
 toward her half friendly, half protecting at 
 times in so many ways anticipating her wants 
 not in the way of a lover, but with a respectful 
 tenderness that had seemed half pity. All at 
 once that thought came to her pity! Why 
 should it be that? Could he know did he know 
 what her life had been? Was it that sorrow that 
 had brought him to her? 
 
 Her hand clenched a little over the pink shells 
 as she saw herself through his eyes, that there 
 was what had led him to that impulse last night. 
 It was not so much help for himself he asked as 
 it was the desire to be close in her thoughts that 
 he might help her she had misunderstood him 
 there on the porch. But she was sure now that 
 it was only through very kindness of heart that 
 he had spoken so. She liked him the better from 
 arriving at that conviction, though through it all 
 was a sense of rebellious pride. Why was she 
 to be thus set aside from other cared-for, care- 
 free women? placed on a level where people 
 should think of her with pity, and she could not 
 resent it. She had not used to think of it like 
 this. For so long a time she had been content 
 only with the sense of her late freedom, and now! 
 She scarcely knew what had changed it all. How 
 those tones of his voice would persist in recurring 
 to her! How would that other woman think of 
 her when she heard how she came to live alone, 
 though married? Would she be coolly cautious
 
 GALEED. 197 
 
 until informed of the same, or would she be 
 gushingly pitiful? And the woman laying there 
 felt half savagely that she could not stand either 
 not from his wife. She would go away again, 
 she and black Liza. Yes, she would drop out of 
 his life when the summer was ended. 
 
 But soft through the sunshine of the day came 
 the echo of night words: "Can you understand 
 that, too?" 
 
 Why did they haunt her like that? why did 
 they fill her with so great an unrest? She had 
 tried to speak wisely to him. But long into the 
 night she had questioned her own rebellious heart, 
 and the day dawn had brought her no answer 
 that she dared whisper even to herself. 
 
 A step near her caused her to raise her head. 
 Alison stood a few feet away, looking at her 
 anxiously. 
 
 "You are ill, Mrs. Holmes?" he asked, cross- 
 ing to her quickly. But she shook her head. 
 
 "111? no. Why should you think so?" she 
 asked the question half irritably. "I was sleepy, 
 I suppose, that was all." 
 
 " Sleepy! then you slept badly? " 
 
 " I believe not. Why should I? " her tone had 
 a shade more of annoyance in it. To him it 
 sounded cold. 
 
 "You are very far away from me to-day," he 
 said, as he looked at her. " I fear I drove you 
 away last night." 
 
 " Not far," she answered, laconically, reaching 
 for her Tarn 0' Shanter, and looking about for her
 
 198 IN LOVE'S DOMAINS. 
 
 pencil. It lay at his feet, and he picked it up, 
 passing it to her in silence; also the tablet, at 
 which he did not glance. 
 
 ' ' Not too far to get a tolerably fair likeness of 
 you," she added, in a more friendly way, showing 
 him the sketch. 
 
 "Yes, it is good," he said, holding it out at 
 arm's length to get the best effect, and then he 
 glanced quickly down at her. "But why did 
 you throw it away against that tree, and why the 
 pencil flung in the grass? and see! some of your 
 pretty shells crushed; have you had a destructive 
 fit?" 
 
 An instant later he was sorry he had spoken. 
 She said nothing, only looked at him. But 
 through that gaze he read the remembrance of 
 another sketch, and without words he could 
 understand the impulse that had flung from her 
 the paper with his face on it. 
 
 "I am a great blunderer," he said, after a little. 
 " You thought very badly of me that day." 
 
 "Yes;" again there was no pretense of not 
 understanding. ' ' I thought you very unworthy. " 
 
 "Could you not know enough of the world to 
 understand that one can not all at once step out 
 of the mud of mistakes? or stepping out, that it 
 takes some time to clean from one's shoes the soil 
 where one's feet have wandered?" he asked, in a 
 slow way. It was an awkward subject. He 
 wondered what other woman he could feel like 
 explaining it to. " If you could only understand 
 a little more of the deficiencies of human nature?"
 
 GALEED. 199 
 
 "Do I not?" she said, with a tinge of bitter- 
 ness; "I have surely learned that, if no other;" 
 and then after a little, she added: " And it made 
 me doubtful of much, and the sward looked a very 
 comfortable place to lounge in that day, and it 
 has surprised me the more in the light of this 
 new statement of yours your engagement." 
 
 " I know you think I was false to my position 
 toward her, as well as undeserving of your faith. 
 But I wish you would believe that the day you 
 saw me was an unwelcome echo from an empty 
 past; one you helped me free from." 
 
 " I? should you not have freed yourself for the 
 sake of another? you had a right to." 
 
 "Yes, you are right. But one needs help to 
 .do the right thing sometimes, and my Miss 
 Athol does not know I mean, does not think 
 seriously as you do; few girls do, I believe." 
 
 " Do you mean that she knows at all has any 
 idea of that worst side of your life?" 
 
 She evidently could not keep the amazement 
 from her tones, and it made him feel a little as he 
 had felt about marriage depending only on cere- 
 mony. Blanche and himself seemed to have but 
 papier-macJie foundations for affection whenever 
 he was drifted into discussing themselves with 
 this woman; it disturbed him, made him dissatis- 
 fied in a way. 
 
 " Well, you see it is the fault of society, I sup- 
 pose," he began, in an explanatory way. "She 
 has seen a good deal of it all her life, and is too 
 bright not to keep her ears open. Well, girls
 
 200 Itf LOVE'S DOMAINS. 
 
 get used to the idea that the men of their set waste 
 a good many days in passing time instead of 
 improving it. And she knew yes, she under- 
 stood that I was no better; that the chances were 
 I might be even a little worse than the most of 
 them." 
 
 She could only look at him. She had not been 
 a society girl herself. She had been very igno- 
 rant of many things. Men had been to her grand, 
 strong ideals as a girl; she had dreamed them in 
 dreamy fashion little less than gods. Had the 
 gods all died since those days, or had her 
 romances, her heroes of right, all been lies? 
 
 " You puzzle me, sometimes,", she said, at last, 
 "and much as I want to, I am not sure that I like 
 either you or Miss Miss Athol did you say? Not 
 for past unworthiness, not for past mistakes, but 
 because of the view you each seem to take of it 
 now. It does not seem the right thing." 
 
 " You mean that we look at it too carelessly?" 
 
 " Yes. You have something better in you. I can 
 not fancy you as content with the superficial." 
 
 ' ' I am not sure I have been. Who knows what 
 we may be?" 
 
 " I know what you ought to be what your 
 work ought to be; a thing strong enough to wipe 
 out all mistakes of the past," she said, energet- 
 ically. 
 
 Down over the bluff they could hear Grace 
 singing "Blue Juniata." One could imagine 
 her that bright Alferatta but for her blonde hair. 
 How girlish and care-free the voice was!
 
 GALEED. 
 
 " Is Miss Athol like that?" she asked, nodding 
 her head toward the beach. 
 
 ' ' No ! Not at all. She never was. ' ' 
 
 " You must tell me of her some day," she con- 
 tinued, " I do not know many women," and then: 
 " Is she pretty?" 
 
 "She is thought attractive by those who know 
 her," he answered; " but, at first glance, one 
 would not think her a beauty." 
 
 " I like pretty women to look at," she said, " I 
 like them as I would pictures or statuary from 
 a picturesque point of view. But no doubt the 
 sort you describe in her pretty to those who 
 know her is the best to wear. Yes, I should 
 think it the best for a wife." 
 
 He picked up the bits of broken shell, pink 
 and shattered, slipping them idly from hand to 
 hand. 
 
 "You have broken those pretty things," he 
 said, regretfully, for in a sense he felt himself 
 the cause. "Will you take these instead? I 
 think something could be made of them brace- 
 let or necklace." 
 
 They were all soft, pretty tints of cream, and 
 pink, and orange, here and there a glistening 
 white one, all looking like so many leaves of shat- 
 tered roses. 
 
 "They are lovely," and she held her hands to 
 receive them. One of them dropped, the pret- 
 tiest, of course. Each bent to pick it up. Her 
 head was lowest, and she did not see how close he 
 bent above her; but the drooped head and the
 
 202 IN LOVE'S DOMAINS. 
 
 white neck were so close, so close! Her hair 
 brushed his cheek, then his lips, and for an 
 instant his fingers pressed a loose bronze lock 
 against the eager red of his mouth. Quick it was 
 done, and quickly he drew back, feeling like a 
 thief, when she raised those clear eyes all uncon- 
 sciously to his. 
 
 He rose to his feet and walked over to the edge 
 of the bluff. 
 
 "What the devil made me do that?" he asked 
 himself, half savagely, "am I, after all, as loose 
 in my ideas as the man whose namesake Grace 
 says I am?" He walked back and forth, glancing 
 at every turn toward that woman sitting there 
 silently sorting those shells. 
 
 "No," he soliloquized, "the ideas and theories 
 of the correct thing are steady enough in my 
 head. But I wonder if I am worse than other 
 men? I suppose I must be, for I always find my 
 emotions and feelings playing the deuce with my 
 straight-laced principles." 
 
 "Do you not think that would make a pretty 
 brooch?" she said, turning her head toward him. 
 "Oh you are away over there. I thought you 
 almost in reach of me." 
 
 "lam now," he answered, crossing to her; while 
 to himself he was thinking: ' ' And you make 
 me want never to go beyond the reach of your 
 hands." 
 
 He did not feel that he was in love with her, 
 it was not that. He had been grateful to her. 
 He had been sorry for her, and her earnest sym-
 
 GALEED. 203 
 
 pathies had made him want to keep her always as 
 a close friend. All that he could understand and 
 find a reason for; but this desire for the entire 
 possession of her heart and thoughts that had 
 made him say what he had last night, and that 
 had filled him just now with a sort of insanity to 
 touch her with his lips if only for once! 
 
 He told himself it was not love, he found him- 
 self looking at her moodily and thinking of the 
 magnetism that, unconscious of itself, yet sways 
 and attracts all in its reach. Was that the secret? 
 Could it all be explained by a mere scientific 
 theory? And yet what a cold-blooded way to 
 think of that soft, girlish form and the sweet lips 
 with their cool, firm curves; again and again his 
 eyes would wander back to them. 
 
 How coolly she could reason for others, he 
 thought; yet that mouth needed all its firm lines 
 to keep it from being altogether voluptuous. It 
 was formed as that magnificent thing of Milo 
 whose impenetrable gaze attracts, and whose lips 
 lure one in spirit to kisses. Thus had each meant 
 to appeal only to the mind, to the thing that 
 whispered of ambitions; but, almost before he 
 knew it, something akin to a soul answered 
 through him to every glance every tone coined 
 for him. 
 
 What strong, white fingers she had as she dallied 
 with the shells. He had never before found him- 
 self caring much for the strong, decided order of 
 women. The pretty, soft tints had made the most 
 alluring pictures to him, and that was another
 
 204 IN LOVE'S DOMAINS. 
 
 irritation. She went against all his ideas of 
 women who had been pleasant to him in the past. 
 She was in some respects masterful; a charm which 
 should appeal only to his intellect. He found 
 himself calling her little captain in his thoughts 
 as the major had done; from that he drifted to her 
 name of Judith, she who had been the avenger 
 of her people. A character formed for sacrifice 
 and religion, one whose strong hands had been 
 bathed in a man's blood. He wondered if that 
 other Judith had those same flexible fingers, he 
 knew she had never that same warm beauty of 
 mouth; ah! that mouth where the pearls gleamed! 
 His thoughts went with a flush of anger to that 
 other man who must have kissed her, her husband, 
 and something like an oath raised her eyes inquir- 
 ingly to his face. 
 
 " Yes," he said, hastily, " I think the two pink 
 ones would be pretty on a silver bar. Is that not 
 the idea? Do you think the shells are strong 
 enough to be riveted? " 
 
 So narrow was the line that summer day 
 between the rippling of meadow brooks and the 
 shadowy abysses where souls struggle in the 
 deeps. 
 
 There was a sort of electricity in the air that 
 conveyed the spirit of earnestness to each, through 
 the bulwark of carelessness that was raised so 
 high. But eyes tell so much when they avoid 
 each other so persistently, and they found them- 
 selves speaking rather eagerly of trifles, and won- 
 derfully afraid of silence.
 
 GALEED. 205 
 
 Brave was the warrior bold, 
 The love of Alferatta! 
 
 sang Grace below them, and with cheeks flushed, 
 and fair hair flying, she came up over the bank, 
 scattering constraint, and sinking down restfully 
 on the sward. " Oh, I think it is glorious out 
 here!" she panted; " the sand is so warm. I had 
 my shoes off down there wiggling my toes in it 
 oh, no! I do not suppose it looked very dignified, 
 but it felt good." 
 
 "Never mind the lack of dignity, then," said 
 Alison, " it is feelings instead of conventionalities 
 that influence us most anyway." 
 
 "There," said Grace, triumphantly, "I knew 
 the instincts of Fra Lippo would make themselves 
 apparent if I only had patience to wait. I forgive 
 you lots of straight-laced ideas for that one bit of 
 truth." 
 
 "How do you know it is truth?" he asked, 
 quizzically. 
 
 " Why, all the novelists show us that, unless it 
 is the horrible pessimist stories is not that the 
 word? I mean the ones whose people do all the 
 things they ought to, and live unhappy ever 
 after. That is not the sort you write, is it, Fra 
 Lippo?" 
 
 "No; I let them do all the things they ought 
 not to, and then give them their dose of unhappi- 
 ness as a punishment that is novelists' justice, 
 you know." 
 
 "Is it?" queried Grace, dubiously; "well, it 
 looks to me like putting a boy in easy reach of a
 
 206 IN LOVE'S DOMAINS. 
 
 neighbor's orchard, and then making him sick 
 because he had a boy's appetite." 
 
 "Pretty good simile, Miss Grace," agreed 
 Alison, lazily; "but what would you have me 
 write?" 
 
 "Oh, love stories, of course; none others are 
 interesting. But I want the people, if they are 
 nice, to get everything they want, and only the 
 dark, deep-dyed villains must be left broken- 
 hearted." 
 
 "But do you not think those individuals 
 would be just the ones whose hearts would be too 
 tough to break?" asked Mrs. Holmes. 
 
 " Then slash out the villain and have all the 
 people good, even if they are a little namby- 
 pamby; anything, so long as you finish them up 
 happily, with fortunes and weddings galore." 
 
 " Suppose, though, that you want to begin 
 instead of ending them with the wedding?" 
 remarked Alison. 
 
 "Well, then, I'd no, I guess I wouldn't know 
 how to manage them that way. The romance 
 should come before the wedding, not after." 
 
 "But the things that should be so seldom are," 
 said Mrs. Holmes; "many lives never have any 
 romance; one need not go to novels to learn that." 
 
 Alison looked at her, but she did not raise her 
 eyes. The shells he had suggested for the silver 
 bar were still in her hands. Her attention was 
 evidently given as much to their tints as to the 
 subject discussed. 
 
 "Well, when I write a novel," began Grace,
 
 GALEED. 207 
 
 and then straightened herself up in much dignity 
 when they laughed. 
 
 " An opera singer, a novelist, and what else?" 
 asked Alison, enumerating them on his fingers. 
 
 "Well, I will do something to distinguish 
 myself, or I never could rest in my grave after I 
 was gone no, I could not. And my novel, if I 
 write one, shall have all the things that should be. 
 I will have a lovely woman in it, one like some one 
 we know, Fra Lippo, some one with bronze hair, 
 who is so lovely, so gracious, that one's brothers, 
 and fathers, and all, fall in love with her. And 
 she must be a sort of latter-day Undine a lovely 
 creature without a soul only an intellect, you 
 know, until some day he comes the hero, I mean 
 and he looks at her, and she looks at him, and 
 her soul is given to her through love. And then 
 he knows what he has been searching for always 
 among the people he met; and then she knows 
 what she has been waiting for it has been for 
 him. And straightway there is no other man, 
 and there is no other woman in the world for 
 either of them. And so they go together hand 
 in hand until they are old and and that is 
 all." 
 
 "Given like a thing of inspiration," com- 
 mented Alison. "But you make no allowance 
 for the accepted idea of the rough current of true 
 love," he spoke lightly, but the words, "and 
 straightway there was no other man and no other 
 woman in the whole world for either of them," 
 thrilled in his ears, and his eyes met those of the
 
 208 IN LOVE'S DOMAINS. 
 
 woman opposite. Why did she look at him like 
 that? and why did her eyes glisten as if with 
 tears? Was it at the thought of being shut 
 out forever from such placid love? And why did 
 the word "darling" leap to his own eyes as 
 plain almost as his lips could have spoken it? 
 Ah! those unanswerable things which the heart 
 prompts. It was only for one electric instant, 
 and both faces were a trifle changed, as Grace 
 continued her ideas of stories. He could feel him- 
 self grow pale, and could see her own face flush, 
 and neither felt like speaking for a little while. 
 Voices are so hard to master sometimes, harder 
 even than the eyes. 
 
 "There should be no rough currents," went on 
 Grace; " and the marriage should be a beautiful 
 ideal one like this one in ' The story of Arnon,' 
 when Azenath chose her human lover in prefer- 
 ence even to a son of God. And there never 
 must be doubt, or jealousy, or anything to come 
 between them." 
 
 "But something does come in that story," said 
 Mrs. Holmes, at last. "Death comes." 
 
 " Oh, yes," agreed Grace, "but only for a little 
 while. Who could imagine Arnon living on and 
 on after she was gone? I could not." 
 
 "You are an extremest," said Alison. "You 
 could kill them both without qualms of con- 
 science, but object to anyone else giving them a 
 little worry." 
 
 "Yes, if the worry in a love story means sep- 
 aration, or misunderstanding, or any of those
 
 GALEED. 209 
 
 horrid things novelists make use of to end them 
 miserably. It would be better to be dead." 
 
 "It would be better to be dead," he repeated, 
 as he got up and walked out along the edge of 
 the bluff. 
 
 * ' Fra Lippo looks as if he had struck an inspira- 
 tion and wanted to get away from our frivolous 
 selves in order to let it mature," remarked Grace; 
 and then, after a little, she said: "I wonder if he 
 is thinking of her? He sort of looks as if he might 
 be." 
 
 "Of whom?" 
 
 "Why, of Blanche Athol. I have heard Tom 
 quizzing her about him. But when I saw him 
 that day at Oyster Bay, I never imagined that 
 A. D. Alison was the Dale I had heard her speak- 
 ing of. I never would have thought he would be 
 her style." 
 
 "Why not 'her style?' " there was the merest 
 touch of asperity in the tone. 
 
 " Oh, because he is too serious, I think. But he 
 was not always so, or else they were mistaken. I 
 remember hearing that her fiance was awfully 
 fast. I can't remember just who said it. Blanche 
 is rather hard to manage herself, at least they 
 say that Mrs. Julian, her married sister, who 
 chaperons her, has her hands full. Blanche is 
 always doing something sensational." 
 
 " Mr. Alison might not care to hear you say 
 so," admonished the other. 
 
 "Well, I don't intend that he shall," returned 
 Grace, frankly. ' k But he must know, as every
 
 210 IN LOVE'S DOMAINS. 
 
 one else does, that Blanche Athol is an awful flirt. 
 Papa says she began to coo and make eyes 
 coquettishly in her cradle, and she has kept it up 
 ever since." 
 
 "Yes." 
 
 "Um," assented Grace, trying to button her 
 shoe with her fingers. " Say, Mrs. Holmes, lend 
 me a hairpin, will you? Please let me call you 
 Judith, just as Mrs. Winans does? it's so much 
 nicer; can I? Oh, you're a darling!" as Mrs. 
 Holmes smiled assent. And then her bright, 
 young eyes wandered again to that figure on the 
 bluff. "And did you notice how he repeated 
 those words?" she continued, " and how quick he 
 got up and went away? Papa says they will 
 never get along together. Perhaps Fra Lippo 
 thinks so, too, and its the idea of separation that 
 worries him." 
 
 "Oh, you romancer!" laughed Mrs. Holmes. 
 "I am afraid Mr. Alison is much too practical 
 for you to make a melancholy hero of, and no 
 doubt he and Miss Athol are very well satisfied 
 with each other." 
 
 ' ' Well, perhaps he don' t know all yet, ' ' debated 
 Grace. " I guess he has been working awfully 
 hard lately. Papa says he has been cutting 
 society. But Blanche does not. She was going 
 abroad this summer, but whimsically changed her 
 mind at the last moment and upset all the Julians' 
 plans. And Fra Lippo ought to remember that 
 when he is not with her some one else is, sure. 
 It's been Dick Haverly lately, they say, and the 
 things I've heard "
 
 GALEED. 211 
 
 " Grace," said Mrs. Holmes, rising to her feet, 
 "I would rather not hear anything more on the 
 subject. I may meet Miss Athol some day, and 
 prefer not to be prejudiced." 
 
 " Why, bless you, I I didn't want to preju- 
 dice you," said Grace, quickly; ''only well, I 
 don't believe when you do meet her that you will 
 think her any more your style than he is hers. 
 It's all wrong some way, and since I've known 
 him a little I'm sorry. Yes, I am. He is so good 
 and so considerate, and just as the major says, he 
 is such a good fellow." 
 
 ' ' Suppose you get him to wait until you are 
 quite grown, and then marry him yourself to be 
 sure he is appreciated?" suggested Mrs. Holmes, 
 teasingly. 
 
 " Stop it!" laughed Grace. " I would not be a 
 bit of an improvement on Blanche. I might be 
 even worse. But I like him so well. And do 
 you know he is just the sort of person I would 
 like to have in a love story such as I intend to 
 write, and when he would meet the right woman 
 there should be no one else in their lives ever 
 again. And he would know that at last he had 
 come into his own." 
 
 "Into his own," said Alison, who had just 
 come up back of them. "Is it an inheritance, 
 Miss Grace?" She glanced at him saucily. 
 
 " Yes, Fra Lippo, it is an inheritance. One 
 that I wonder if you will know as your own 
 when you come to it in novels they do not, some- 
 times."
 
 212 IN LOVE'S DOMAINS. 
 
 He glanced from Grace to Mrs. Holmes. 
 
 "Oh, it is only another romance of Grace's," 
 she explained. " She is in a visionary mood 
 to-day." 
 
 "Well, it is all the fault of 'The Story of 
 Arnon,' " said the embryo novelist. "I am a 
 spongy, impressionable creature, and it has satu- 
 rated my feeble mind with beautiful pictures 
 and vistas of romance;" and then she began to 
 laugh quietly. "I think, when I go home, I will 
 read that to the major," she said, wickedly; "he 
 flies from anything with sentiment in it, and to 
 punish him for calling me silly at the stile last 
 night, I am going to read him those love songs. " 
 
 "Don't bear malice, Miss Grace," said Alison, 
 lighting a cigar, and speaking between puffs; 
 " you are too good a girl." 
 
 "Don't be too blind to know your own when 
 you come to it, Fra Lippo," she answered, 
 mimicking him with a bit of twig in her mouth; 
 "for I may want you to help me out with my 
 novel, and besides, you are too good a fellow.'* 
 
 "Thanks," he said, good-humoredly. "If I 
 find myself too blind I may come to you to be 
 led." 
 
 " You may come right now," she said, promptly, 
 "and I will lead you for a walk both of you. 
 Judith needs a rest. She is the only one of us 
 who has anything to show for to-day's work. I 
 don't believe you have written a dozen lines, Fra 
 Lippo shameful waste of valuable time." 
 
 "Then I had better set to work at once and
 
 GALEED. 213 
 
 waste no more,'' he said, reaching for a portfolio; 
 but Grace got it first. 
 
 "No you don't," she said, capturing it. 
 "Major sent you as an escort, and your duty is 
 to see that we don't get stuck in the mud, or 
 kidnapped by the Montauks. I want to explore 
 the woods and see how far back they reach. You 
 must go as cavalier, and as the proper thing for 
 an individual of my age is a chaperon, Mrs. 
 Holmes must be the martyr and come along." 
 
 And stacking books and emptied lunch-basket 
 against a tree, they started from the shore back 
 into the shadowy woods where the tall ferns grew 
 knee-high with here and there white shells from 
 the sea imbedded about their brown roots. 
 
 Grace amused herself by darting ahead until 
 she was hidden by the shrubbery, and then giving 
 vent to shrill yelps in staccato fashion that she 
 fondly imagined were imitations of Indian war- 
 whoops. 
 
 "I heard them bark like that at the Wild West 
 show," she explained to them, as if too honest to 
 claim undeservingly any credit for being the 
 founder of this new school of music. "And I 
 did not think them at all terrific neither their 
 whoop nor their war dance. I can do that, too; I 
 did it for papa after we came home that evening, 
 and as a reward he wouldn't let me go even to a 
 theatre for a month after. This is it." 
 
 And straightway Miss Grace began her dance 
 with thumbs pointed heavenward and an alter- 
 nate lifting of feet, as if the thing they stood
 
 214 IN LOVE'S DOMAINS. 
 
 on was too hot for comfort, the while moving in 
 dismal sort of time to slow monotone of song that 
 sounded like an introduction to the demon music 
 of a pantomime. 
 
 Her auditors, more critical than enthusiastic, 
 tried, between fits of laughter, to bribe her to 
 cease, a bribery she spurned as all art should. 
 
 "You're jealous," she said, after she had 
 brought the dance to a close by a series of yelps 
 that would have done credit to a Comanche; 
 ''that's why you insist that the thumb part of 
 the dance is Chinese. That only goes to prove 
 that I am an artist capable of blending the poetry 
 of motion of two races into a grand masterpiece 
 that would astonish specimens of either nation." 
 
 "It undoubtedly would," assented Alison, 
 dryly, "what an unappreciative parent, not to 
 encourage your talent in that direction." 
 
 "That's irony," she said, nodding her head 
 sagaciously at Judith. "High art can afford to 
 ignore such trifles, therefore, I ignore it. I am 
 not at all egotistical, but I know jealousy when I 
 see it." 
 
 And striding with a tragic air through the ferns 
 and grass she was soon out of sight in the 
 shrubbery. 
 
 The other two found conversation a difficult 
 thing to manage, and so when left alone with the 
 silence of the woods about them, he grew quiet in 
 a way that might have been half moody, as he 
 would stand watching her collect the green 
 feathers and bright bits of leaves or grass that
 
 GALEED. 215 
 
 went to make up a great bouquet with the sweet, 
 wild smell of the earth clinging to them. 
 
 He thought she was right when she had laid 
 claim to a touch of Indian nature. Not else, 
 he thought, could she so busy herself in the little 
 secrets of the herbs, questioning the moss growth 
 of its faithfulness to the cold, repelling stone 
 where it crept; drawing great armfuls of sweet 
 bay toward her, and burying her face in its 
 cool leaves, closing her eyes in drunken fash- 
 ion at its fragrance. As quick as Grace in darting 
 under branches and through shrubbery for a bit 
 of bright-hued treasure, she was yet more silent. 
 
 "All nature seems one's own personal posses- 
 sion when one has the wildness of the woods so 
 close about one," she said, in answer to that 
 steady, curious look of his at the embrace of the 
 branches. 
 
 "All passive nature," he corrected. "I know 
 your sweeping assertions really apply only to the 
 herbs you gather, pretty leaves that look bright 
 for a few hours but are unconscious of your care." 
 
 "I am never sure they are unconscious," she 
 returned, quickly, as if to skip over the sugges- 
 tion underlying that remark. He knew the tone 
 of that speech was contemptible in him, but all 
 his quiet watching of the girlish, provoking form 
 had found vent in that half protest. 
 
 "They do not seem passive to me," she con- 
 tinued, "the things of the woods always keep 
 fresh for me so long longer by far than culti- 
 vated flowers and that is an unusual thing you
 
 216 IN LOVE'S DOMAINS. 
 
 know, so I have made up my mind they are not 
 unconscious, they have a soul for me." 
 
 "You give it to them," he said, and turned 
 away as she looked questioningly at him. An 
 instant more of those eyes on his, and he knew 
 he would have said: "I do not wonder, you 
 awaken theirs as you do mine, you draw souls to 
 you, and arouse temptations to ask for all your 
 own in return." 
 
 Did she guess at all of that struggle under the 
 terseness of his tone? She grew silent again, 
 making no sign. And they walked on, on through 
 the broken paths after Grace. And the sky grew 
 darker by spells as clouds seemed to drop lower 
 over the tree-tops, and the birds began to twitter 
 to each other of coming change. 
 
 "We shall have a storm to-night," she said, 
 glancing upward. 
 
 "And the night is not so far off as you might 
 imagine," he replied, glancing at his watch, "it 
 is almost six o'clock." 
 
 " So late!" she said in surprise, " where has the 
 day gone?" 
 
 ' ' It has not gone unrecorded at least, ' ' he began, 
 and then stopped, setting his teeth determinedly 
 with the vow to let no more words be drawn from 
 him by impulse or circumstances. He would not 
 let her think him so altogether weak. 
 
 "We must find Grace; we must go back at 
 once, ' ' she said, hurriedly. * ' We have come a long 
 way from the shore have we not? It will be late 
 when we get home."
 
 GALEED. 217 
 
 "I think we have walked farther than we have 
 realized," he answered; "we shall learn that 
 when we attempt to retrace our steps. And our 
 trip across the water will take some time. Yes, 
 we had better hurry if we want a hot dinner." 
 
 Grace, perched on a fence away ahead of them, 
 refused to come back until they paid her a visit. 
 
 " I can see away down the road," she shouted, 
 "and there's a buggy coming this way; I do 
 believe it's the major. Let us wait and see, never 
 mind if it does rain, we won't melt." 
 
 Sure enough, it was the major, and Mrs. Wi- 
 nans smiling a little nervously as she glanced up 
 at the darkening clouds. 
 
 "Out here yet?" called the major from the 
 road. "It's time you young folks were heading 
 toward home." 
 
 "We are going," answered Grace, "I only 
 waited to see if it was you sure. What have 
 you got in the basket." 
 
 "Peaches!" said the major, smacking his lips 
 in appreciation. "Beauties; great, big, yellow 
 fellows from Maryland. Come, jump into the 
 bugg} 7 ". You can have your share now." 
 
 "She must wait for her share," called Mrs. 
 Holmes, " we must go back to the boat at once." 
 
 " Perhaps she had better drive back with us," 
 suggested Mrs. Winans; "the wind is rising it 
 will be one less to carry across the water." 
 
 The three picnickers glanced at each other. 
 
 "No," said Mrs. Holmes, rather hastily, "that 
 would never do; you must not turn deserter."
 
 218 IN LOVP;'S DOMAINS. 
 
 "But it does seem a sensible plan," debated 
 Grace, "getting home will take hard work 
 against the wind, and then think of the peaches, 
 Judith! I will have some with cream on for you 
 by the time you get home. Say yes, that's a 
 good girl." 
 
 "No, no, we are only wasting valuable time dis- 
 cussing it. Come, don't be bribed by peaches." 
 
 There was an instant's indecision, and then the 
 major said, insinuatingly: 
 
 " There is a box of Maillard's chocolate creams 
 in my pocket for somebody." 
 
 That settled it. The "somebody" made a wild 
 lunge over the fence, calling as she went: 
 
 "Look after my book of * Arnon,' Fra Lippo, 
 I don't dare ask Judith, because she disapproves 
 of my weakness, but I will have your peaches and 
 cream ready for you when you get home. Good- 
 bye! Take double care of her because you have 
 only one to look after now. Major, which pocket 
 is the box in?" 
 
 And with a deprecating smile from Mrs. 
 Winans, and a victorious laugh from the major, 
 the buggy whirled down the road, leaving those 
 two standing there alone under the threatening 
 sky. 
 
 "Well this is rather ' he began, and then 
 hesitated a moment. When he spoke again it was 
 only to remark: "That was rather quick work." 
 
 "Never mind," she said, as if trying to per- 
 suade herself not to mind; "we must make the 
 best of it."
 
 GALEED. 
 
 And from the tone of each a third person would 
 have said that neither appeared anxious for that 
 tete-a-tete journey home. 
 
 "Come, we may as well start at once," he said, 
 brusquely. "Let me carry those things for 
 you." 
 
 "Those things" were the ferns and grasses of 
 which he had felt so nearly jealous. But she 
 shook her head, gathering them close up to her 
 in one arm. 
 
 ' ' Thanks, no. I can manage them, and myself, 
 too, very nicely." The latter part of the speech 
 was in reply to an offered hand in walking over a 
 swampy place in the meadow path. 
 
 The wind had risen suddenly and was blowing 
 a regular gale, while the clouds shifted and 
 drifted in great banks overhead. Alison glanced 
 dubiously at them and dropped back a step or so 
 until he was close beside her. 
 
 "That wind is rather sweeping as it comes 
 across here," he remarked. "I may shelter you 
 from it a little." 
 
 "What? I could not hear you," she panted, 
 as a strong gust of wind lifted her Scotch cap 
 and an instant later would have carried it away, 
 but that he caught it, and with her one free hand 
 and both of his the unruly article was pulled 
 down over her hair; the hair he had kissed 
 unknown to her, but from which he turned delib- 
 erately now. One is in part the conqueror who 
 knows his own weakness. 
 
 " I may shelter you some from this side," he
 
 220 IN LOVE'S DOMAINS. 
 
 half shouted, for they were nearer the timber and 
 the noise of the wind greater. "That was what 
 I was trying to say." 
 
 "Never mind. I like storms, and am strong 
 enough to stand alone." 
 
 Just for a moment a lull in the wind made clear 
 a word he was impelled to at the picture of that 
 slight form in the world's gales; it was: 
 
 "Always?" 
 
 "I hope so," she said, looking up at him clearly 
 as she could with the wind in her eyes. "Yes, I 
 shall have to." 
 
 It was the first time her position had ever been 
 touched on between them. Was it the fault of 
 the magnetic currents of the storm that perme- 
 ated themselves, and made vision and speech 
 clear-cut and incisive. 
 
 " I hope, then, that the storms will all be light 
 ones," he said; and she bowed her head as if to 
 tell him she heard, but no word was spoken until 
 they reached the edge of the timber. 
 
 Just for a little she halted there, glancing up at 
 the changeful evening sky, back over the meadow, 
 and then into the wood, all so changed! everything 
 grown so dark. All the light left in the heavens 
 was the streaks of dull red and copper that looked 
 like reflections from some immense furnace. 
 
 "It all looks weird, uncanny," she said, smiling 
 vaguely, but not looking at him, " it is because of 
 the sudden change, I suppose." 
 
 "Yes," he assented, and then that moment's 
 halting of hers made him wonder in a half irrita-
 
 GALEED. 221 
 
 ted f asMon as if lie had made her doubt him by 
 his own confessions. 
 
 "Are you afraid?" he asked abruptly. 
 
 Then she did look at him. 
 
 "Afraid! of what?" 
 
 " Of the storm of course," he added, rather 
 hastily. 
 
 And she smiled up at him as she said: "It's 
 not five minutes since I told you I liked them. 
 Has the wind blown your memory away?" 
 
 "You had better come on," he said, as if not 
 hearing her question. 
 
 "Yes, I will come," she said, taking a step 
 further into the wood. " Its all very uncanny- 
 looking ahead there, but yes, we must go 
 on." 
 
 Yes, no matter how doubtfully we look into 
 the future, still the past that is so eager to swal- 
 low up all that is, drives souls onward to meet 
 that which is to be. 
 
 Was it some such thought that checked the 
 woman there that evening at the edge of the wood 
 and the edge of the storm? 
 
 No rain had fallen, only the threats murmured 
 through distant thunder, and far off the lightning 
 flashes prepared them for anything as they hurried 
 through the trees. He had offered his arm, which 
 she refused with a smiling shake of her head. 
 
 "Is she so afraid of touching me?" he asked 
 himself half -savagely; and together with that was 
 a half -resolve to leave the next day. Something 
 was always giving him an impulse to say just the
 
 222 IN LOVE'S DOMAINS. 
 
 things lie had no right to say, and yes, he would 
 go away. 
 
 "Look out there!" he warned, as some round 
 bowlders half-hidden by ferns made an uncer- 
 tain foothold. "I know you are too indepen- 
 dent to want assistance, but you may not resent 
 a warning." 
 
 "Certainly not," she said, trying to laugh 
 carelessly; "warnings are always in order, but 
 I have considerable mule in my composition when 
 it comes to my feet, and am used to standing on 
 my own responsibility," and then suddenly, she 
 asked: " Should we not surely be near the boat 
 by this time?" 
 
 " Does the way seem so long then?" He did not 
 add, " with me" but the tone implied it, and her 
 avoidance of him provoked it, scattering what 
 little judgment he had left. 
 
 " I did not say so," she said quietly, and he 
 strode on a step ahead of her in silence that seemed 
 moody, and a little later she added in a hali'-hes- 
 itating way: " You are not like yourself this even- 
 ing. I think you are inclined to be a little hard 
 on me in your thoughts." 
 
 "Don't speak like that," he answered abruptly. 
 " You don't know what you are saying to me." 
 
 She only looked at him, but did not speak, and 
 after a little he said: "Try to pardon that 
 speech, it sounds rude to you, but I I did not 
 mean to be that, and I don't want you to think so 
 our last evening together, for I believe I am going 
 away to-morrow."
 
 GALEED 223 
 
 " Going away!" for the first time slie readied 
 out her hand to him; was it because of the words 
 or for the same reason that she gave a low cry an 
 instant later, and stumbled forward, falling to her 
 knees. 
 
 " Wait a moment," she said, holding his hands 
 and leaning against him; only an instant he held 
 her so, looking down at her eyes that were closed. 
 After a little she spoke again, rather uncer- 
 tainly. 
 
 " It made me faint, just at first. I was certain 
 of nothing but your hands," then she tried to 
 raise herself by his help. 
 
 " It is my foot," she began, and a half moan of 
 pain broke from her; " I can not stand on it," she 
 whispered. 
 
 He said nothing. The clasp of her fingers, the 
 shivering pressure of her form against him, as he 
 bent over her, took from him the desire for 
 speech. He could but think in a wild fashion of 
 the sweetness of it, that had a sort of fear as a 
 background. 
 
 "Let me help you," and his arm, circling her 
 waist, gave him a guilty feeling, simply because it 
 gave him a pleasure he dared not acknowledge. 
 
 " I can not," as she tried with his assistance to 
 walk; " I can not even step on my foot. I think I 
 sprained my ankle on the stone that slipped." 
 
 He glanced from her to the path ahead of them, 
 through the woods that were growing darker, and 
 through which he could not yet see the gleam of 
 the water.
 
 224 IN LOVE'S DOMAINS. 
 
 "Yes," she said, trying to smile, " it is a long 
 way; and what in the world am I to do?" 
 
 "Try again," he suggested, with a grim deter- 
 mination not to indulge himself in the one method 
 by which he could have got her to the boat, "lean 
 on my arm now!" 
 
 Another trial, and her face whitened with pain, 
 as she sank limply on the ground. ' ' Ah, how 
 can you make me try when you see that I can 
 not." 
 
 The piteous appeal was wrung from her by the 
 pain, and that deadly faintness that followed it, 
 and in a moment all his bonds of restraint were 
 broken by that protest against what she felt was 
 his cruelty to her. And when she opened her 
 eyes his arms were about her, and her head on his 
 knee. 
 
 " You go," she whispered, " send some one a 
 doctor, I suppose it may be broken. But please 
 hurry." 
 
 " I will not leave you," he said, decidedly. 
 
 " But really I am not afraid; it will not be long 
 to wait. They can drive back for me, you know, 
 and and please go." 
 
 Her eyes were raised so pleadingly to his face; 
 was she pleading against her own wish as well as 
 his? He did not stop to reason the question then. 
 He only read in a vague way that while the voice, 
 trying to master itself , said u go," the eyes, un- 
 conscious through pain, said " stay." 
 
 " I will not," he muttered, and his face dropped 
 a little lower over her own.
 
 GALEED. 225 
 
 There was only the woods and the storm about 
 them, and in the shelter of his arms, content was 
 trying to creep through the faintness and pain. 
 
 " No? " she said, making a last effort to be sim- 
 ply inquiring, and raising herself a little higher 
 from his knee. And then meeting his eyes she 
 could go no further; what was told in that one 
 gaze for which neither could summon a mask? 
 Whatever it was, the wind whistled by unheeded, 
 the storm passed from their knowledge, and 
 through the dusk they could see only each the 
 soul of the other. 
 
 " No! " she tried to say again, smiling weakly. 
 But the whispered word was silenced by his face 
 close against hers, and in the domain she had 
 deemed "uncanny," the seal of their lives was 
 stamped by a kiss. 
 
 Were there any words spoken in that confes- 
 sion? Neither could ever tell. But after this 
 sweetness of silence he spoke, and his voice with 
 its new tone sounded odd and strange. 
 
 "I must get you home quickly, it is growing 
 dark." 
 
 "Yes," and her eyes raised to his dropped 
 again, and she turned her face close into the 
 hollow of his elbow in a half-shamed way. 
 
 " And you must let me carry you." 
 
 There was a little silence, and then, her voice 
 still from the covert against his coat, said: 
 
 " But can you?" 
 
 "Can I!" How care free, how boyish his 
 laugh sounded ! He thought as he heard it, ' ' when 
 
 15
 
 22C IN LOVE'S DOMAINS. 
 
 have I laughed like that before?" Carry her? 
 why the world seemed but a feather-weight in 
 the light of this new possession. 
 
 Yes, about them was the gathered storm, beyond 
 them wind and tide to fight against over the 
 course they must take together. It was a proph- 
 ecy of lives to be lived. But a kiss had drawn a 
 veil over past and future. Just then the knowl- 
 edge of possession made life a thing lovely to be 
 lived, and he drew her closer, and laughed down 
 at her. 
 
 " Can I! and will I?" he said, stubbornly draw- 
 ing her face around until he could see it. ' ' Yes, 
 you can tell Grace I do know my own when I 
 come to it." 
 
 Then her arms crept about his throat, she was 
 lifted to his breast together with the mass of ferns 
 at touch of which he laughed again, as he carried 
 his burden of love back over the wood-path that 
 had brought them into so strange a land. 
 
 " Those poor leaves!" he said happily. " How 
 short a time since I was jealous of them!" and 
 then Grace's words recurred to him again, and he 
 said softly, " my own." 
 
 She did not answer, she had said no word. She 
 had given herself into his arms, what need was 
 there of words after that. But all the while 
 there rang something in her ears that said ' ' false, 
 false!" 
 
 She knew it was a sweet lie they had cheated 
 themselves with for one delirious moment. She 
 knew she was false as a wife, that she had been
 
 GALEED. 227 
 
 ever since that day in Oyster Bay when watching 
 him dash his boat straight out to the Sound he 
 had drawn her thoughts after him. She knew 
 there was some one else, that other girl to whom 
 she was making him a traitor. And she laughed a 
 little bitterly as her arms relaxed, and she looked 
 up in his face and said: 
 
 " How much easier it is to advocate high ideals 
 for others, than to follow the simplest code of 
 morals for ourselves." 
 
 u Put your arms back as they were," he com- 
 manded, tenderly, " and don't speak like that." 
 
 "I will if I want to. If I am a thief, why 
 should I not acknowledge it?" 
 
 " You are not that" and he tried to draw her 
 face closer to his and stop her speech, but she 
 drew aside. 
 
 "I am that," she said, calmly, "and much 
 more. I am a liar when I have tried to have you 
 think me better than I am so much better than 
 I have been of late. I have been," and she looked 
 up at him " I have been coveting my neighbor's 
 goods, and worse than that, I have tried to steal 
 them while my neighbor is away." 
 
 Again there was the quick attempt to draw her 
 face to his. 
 
 "Don't do that! I would not if I were you," 
 she said, curtly. " Go and kiss some good woman 
 some one who does not deceive you with fair, 
 false witness for herself!" 
 
 "Judith!" 
 
 " Yes, that is the woman you said I was like,"
 
 IN LOVE'S DOMAINS. 
 
 she continued, ironically; "the woman with 
 earnest religious tendencies, the woman of grand 
 sacrifices! Why did you not call me a Frou- 
 Frou? I have much more of her timbre in me." 
 
 "You are unjust to yourself," he said, decid- 
 edly. ' ' It may be a misfortune to you that this 
 has occurred, but it is not a crime at least the 
 fault is not yours. We both tried to reason our- 
 selves out of it. I know now that you did. But 
 whatever the result is, you must never blame 
 yourself to me. I know you, dear, too well." 
 
 She did not answer, and a little later the broken 
 quiver of her breath told him she was crying. 
 
 He could say nothing. He knew now that the 
 past days had been a strain on her that he had 
 not guessed, and he felt guilty when he thought 
 of how he had added to it. Down into the boat he 
 carried her, where the wind rocked their light 
 craft as if it were one of the pink shells they had 
 gathered. Carefully he placed her that the 
 injured foot should not suffer from wrench or 
 lurch, and then looked across the foamy waters 
 that were not likely to reassure one who was ill or 
 nervous. 
 
 "Are you afraid?" he asked. 
 
 "With you?" and what avowal of love could 
 mean more than the words and tone, and then she 
 said: " Come here!" 
 
 He dropped on his knee beside her, steadying 
 the boat with one oar thrust in the sand. 
 
 "I am not a good woman," she said, reaching 
 up and passing her hand along his face. " I
 
 GALEED. 229 
 
 never am quite sure when I think of heaven. But 
 now to-night, I should have no fear of death. I 
 think I should be glad. Happiness can not last 
 like like you know, and I think it would be 
 easier to go down under the waves than to live 
 and know it must change." 
 
 " Do not dream of any change in our thoughts," 
 he said, earnestly; "that will never come. 
 
 "We do not know a storm has brought us 
 this stolen happiness who knows what the calm 
 may bring?" 
 
 Who knows who ever knows? And her 
 woman' s eyes turned wistfully always will turn 
 wistfully back toward those shadows, where 
 thoughts unspeakable had been granted expres- 
 sion. 
 
 CHAPTER IX. 
 
 Ah, me! how easily things grow wrong. 
 A sigh too much, or a kiss too long! 
 And there follows a mist and a sweeping rain, 
 And life is never the same again. 
 
 "A real adventure, wasn't it?" said Grace, 
 appreciatingly . ' ' How delightful ! ' ' 
 
 "Delightful to be laid up with a sprained 
 ankle," queried Mrs. Holmes, ironically. 
 
 "No, of course I'm sorry to see you suffer, and 
 you did, awfully, didn't you, dear? No, those 
 things are only romantic in theory."
 
 230 IN LOVE'S DOMAINS. 
 
 "They are not according to any theory of 
 mine." 
 
 "Oh, you know what I mean not the ankle 
 the rest of it." 
 
 "The rest of it?" repeated Mrs. Winans, in 
 mild questioning. "My dear Grace, when you 
 do air your ideas, try and make them more 
 explicit." 
 
 "You dear bit of prunes and prisms," said 
 the girl, darting toward the old lady, and treat- 
 ing her to a convulsive hug. "You're as bad as 
 papa, and worse than Tom. You know I mean the 
 rest of the the episode is that correct? the pic- 
 turesque helplessness, and a cavalier to carry you 
 in his arms; how delightful; wish it had been I. 
 Say, Judith, did you imagine him Captain Kidd 
 carrying you away to the stormy seas? I should 
 have had a whole romance conjured up by the 
 time he had landed the boat and lugged you 
 home." 
 
 "Lugged would not sound romantic, I fear," 
 suggested the cripple. 
 
 "N no, it is rather matter of fact. But I 
 should imagine that getting you here was a prac- 
 tical affair for him a muscular one at all events 
 the pull across that bay in the wind was a terror." 
 
 "Yes;" and Mrs. Winans raised her brows 
 ever so slightly. 
 
 "A most difficult feat for one man single- 
 handed and alone to accomplish," said Grace, in 
 parrot-like fashion, dropping a courtesy at the 
 finish.
 
 GALEED. 231 
 
 " Am I a nonentity, then?" asked Mrs. Holmes, 
 plaintively, " he had two hands, and he was not 
 alone; that is if I count for anything." 
 
 "Which you decidedly did," remarked Grace, 
 frankly. "You counted for about 110 pounds 
 when he carried you up them steps, and his face 
 flushed as if he'd caught a fever from your 
 sprained ankle." 
 
 "Grace!" 
 
 "Well, he did; but don't be alarmed, he's over 
 it this morning. I saw him at breakfast, and he 
 looked interestingly natural as usual; asked how 
 you are; can he come to see you, or be of any 
 use in any way, etc., etc." 
 
 They wheeled the sofa on which she lay close 
 up to the window of her sitting-room, and out 
 across the verandah she could get a view of the 
 bay, sleeping in peace through the late morning to 
 make amends for its riotous lashing through the 
 wakeful night. 
 
 "How still it looks," she thought, a little bit- 
 terly. " How well it hides the dark possibilities 
 under its surface. It is as much of a liar as I am." 
 
 Up across the meadow she saw a tall form strid- 
 ing over the short grass toward the house. What 
 was that in his hands? Only a few red leaves and 
 the shells they had gathered the day before only 
 one day ago! All through the night that day had 
 given them both food for thought, and now as 
 she saw him through the window, and as he saw 
 her across the road, the eyes of each fell at the 
 memories thronging close. But he came straight
 
 232 IN LOVE'S DOMAINS. 
 
 to her, his i'ace pale and earnest. Yes, the fever 
 of the night had gone, and in its place was a 
 steadfastness that gave her courage. 
 
 "They were not washed away?" she asked, 
 quietly, taking the trophies in one hand and giving 
 him the other, which he held so closely, so 
 reassuringly, until that warm clasp forced her to 
 raise her eyes to his. 
 
 "No, these few remained faithful; they knew 
 you would want them this morning. How are 
 you?" 
 
 "You see!" and she glanced at her own out- 
 lined figure on the lounge, and then: " I have not 
 even thanked you for last night," she said, " but 
 I do for all of it." 
 
 He smiled ever .so slightly at that. " You 
 thank me ah! my dear my dear " 
 
 "Don't!" 
 
 "Friend," he added, as if finishing the sen- 
 tence. 
 
 "That is better," she said, looking up at him. 
 " That is how we must try to think." 
 
 Her voice was not very steady, and to the man 
 watching her she had never looked so lovely 
 as with that light of resolve on her face that 
 tremulous sweetness of the mouth that was try- 
 ing so hard to conform its curves to duty, though 
 so late. 
 
 They were alone now. Mrs. Winans and Grace 
 had just gone for a short walk with the major, 
 and with admonitions to take care of the invalid 
 in their absence. Alison was left with his chair
 
 GALEED. 233 
 
 drawn up to the window inside of which she lay. 
 " You Look troubled," he said, looking at her 
 earnestly. ' ' Don' t be. " 
 
 " I am troubled, and I deserve to be troubled," 
 she answered, her eyes on the figures in the car- 
 pet. "You see last night well, I have been 
 very miserable lately, in more ways than you 
 know, and I suppose I am turning coward; I never 
 used to be so so weak, but sometimes I have 
 wanted, so much, friendship such as yours might 
 be if if we could but be true to it." 
 
 "My friend!" he said, half appealingly, laying 
 his hand on hers; but she went on, still speaking 
 in a low, monotonous sort of way, as if trying to 
 bar out all feeling, all light and shade from her 
 tones. 
 
 " And last night when you were sorry for me 
 well, it made me weak, in a way, and I think we 
 both forgot there would have to be to-morrows 
 and to-morrows. But we must remember, now." 
 
 A little while they sat in silence, and then he 
 said: 
 
 "Yes, we must remember, now. I will try to 
 remember, or do anything you wish. I want you 
 to be content. Try not to look troubled. Be a 
 little glad, can't you?" 
 
 "You are very good to me; few, I think, would 
 be so so sympathetic toward a woman who for- 
 got herself as I did." 
 
 " Don't speak like that you! were you alone? 
 Look up here!" and when the drooping face was 
 raised he continued: "You must not grow
 
 234 IN LOVE'S DOMAINS. 
 
 morbid over this, you think of it too seriously 
 as" 
 
 "Seriously!" she broke in with a burst of 
 humiliation. "Am I ever likely to forget, or feel 
 less ashamed when I ah, how can you expect me 
 to think of that carelessly? If I did, I should be 
 worth altogether the worst of your thoughts." 
 
 " You will have always only the best of them," 
 he said, earnestly; "and I' should not like to 
 think you would forget. I know I never shall." 
 
 "You may remember yes;" she said, looking 
 at him curiously. "But I feel as if I have helped 
 make you lose faith a little in women and then 
 remembrance will be only regret." 
 
 He got up abruptly, and walked across the 
 verandah, and then came back to her. 
 
 "I can see that no matter how unhappy they 
 make you, the bonds of the past are things you 
 do not think of breaking. I can say nothing to 
 you of those. I have not been free to say even 
 so much as I have. But I want to be your friend 
 if in that way I can help you to secure a little 
 content. And when you speak of regret oh, my 
 dear! my dear! the only regret you can bring me 
 is that we did not meet earlier." 
 
 There was no mistaking the truth in his tone. 
 The sight of the half-shamed face that he had 
 always seen so independent, and the thought of 
 her supposed humiliation in his eyes, made him 
 long to take her in his arms to tell her in all fond 
 ways how much she was to him. 
 
 " We must not speak like that to each other
 
 GALEED. 235 
 
 again," she said, slowly; "not if we are to know 
 each other to try to be friends." 
 
 " And we will be," he half asked, half decided, 
 "more earnest, helpful friends than before, 
 because we know each other now." 
 
 "Do we?" she asked, naively. "I am not 
 sure; you may not know me at all, even yet." 
 
 " I know you enough to be proud of you." 
 
 "But suppose I am not able to keep up to 
 those high ideals of friendship we have spoken of 
 so often suppose I am again a failure?" and she 
 smiled rather nervously. The morning was a test 
 to her. She had had all the night to think of it 
 to see the truth in herself both her strength and 
 her weakness, and she had slighted neither. 
 
 "We will help each other." His tone of con- 
 viction left her without words for a little, and 
 when she spoke it was as a general who gives up 
 a field from one point and attempts a recapture 
 from another. 
 
 " You spoke of going away will you?" 
 
 " Not until you are able to walk, at least." 
 
 Another silence, and then "You know some- 
 thing of how I have lived I mean alone?" 
 
 "Yes don't speak of it if if it is unpleasant. 
 It must have been a great mistake." 
 
 "It was for Mr. Holmes," she rejoined, ironi- 
 cally. " Oh, don't look at me as if I was jesting 
 at something sacred sacred! oh, God!" 
 
 And her head dropped forward on the window- 
 ledge, and he could see that she was quivering 
 with suppressed sobs. It was misery for him to
 
 236 IN LOVE'S DOMAINS. 
 
 see her so, yet know that no words of his that 
 God himself could not help her except by blotting 
 out memory. 
 
 After a while she spoke, but with her forehead 
 still low there on the wood-work, his hand stroking 
 her hair, with a caress in every touch of his 
 fingers. 
 
 "And so you see life has been a very bitter 
 thing to me sometimes. And I have needed- 
 have wanted not sympathy so much as under- 
 standing, and now now that it has come, I am 
 afraid." 
 
 " You dear woman!" 
 
 "But I want you to know we must not let the 
 time come when we can not be honest with each 
 other." 
 
 " No, go on, what is it you want to tell me? " 
 
 "Give me your hand first so! across my eyes, 
 and try to understand me. There have been 
 times in my life when friendship such as yours 
 would have been a great temptation to me; times 
 when I was so miserable that I was reckless. If 
 if those times should return " 
 
 His fingers closed tight over her own for an 
 instant. 
 
 "Don't be afraid," he said, slowly earnestly; 
 "Try to trust me a little longer, enough to 
 prove to you that friendship is not a thing to fear. 
 I wish I could take your weight of unhappiness 
 and bear it for you." 
 
 " No one can ever," she said, more composedly, 
 the very clasp of his fingers had helped her to a
 
 GALEED. 237 
 
 sort of strength. "I suppose, being married, I 
 should not say such things to another man. I 
 know I should not. But, lately, I have been so 
 tired, so heart-sick, and when I saw that you 
 understood it well, I turned coward all at once, 
 and and I wonder how you will think of me in 
 the future." 
 
 "As I always have thought of you; good 
 thoughts, and I know you will deserve them." 
 
 " It is good to hear you say that, to know that 
 you believe in me; you can not know how it 
 helps me." 
 
 " I know how you helped me, by having faith 
 in me even before we met. I never can repay you; 
 let me do what little I can in return; let me be 
 your friend." 
 
 " My friend," she repeated, raising tear- wet 
 eyes to his face; "and if if the time comes " 
 
 "If the time comes when we can not be honest, 
 and only friends yes I will go away." 
 
 So they spoke, clasping hands there by the win- 
 dow; so they thought, looking at each other with 
 tender, earnest eyes, and in the heart of each 
 there was the silent resolve: "I will be worthy." 
 
 Was the echo of words of yesterday dumb? Had 
 it been stilled by the murmur of the pines, or the 
 dip of the sea? Somewhere, it had wandered 
 surely, and in its stead had crept a sprite akin to 
 duty, and looking through their eyes it made 
 them feel that the welfare of each depended on 
 the smothering of that sense that tried to whisper 
 warningly:
 
 238 IN LOVE'S DOMAINS. 
 
 "And straightway there was no other woman, 
 and there was no other man in the whole world to 
 either of them, ever again." 
 
 CHAPTER X. 
 
 We boast our light; but, if we look not wisely 
 On the sun itself, it smites us into darkness. 
 
 The days that followed were days of sweet sug- 
 gestions to those natures that had been in a way 
 world-weary. Ah, the long, quiet talks through 
 the days and the nights of that season! and the 
 new trustfulness of the thing they called friend- 
 ship! She was still unable to walk, and her little 
 sitting-room became the gathering-ground for the 
 party. And many a sketch was made, from her sofa 
 or easy-chair, of her four friends, in the various 
 groupings into which they would drop uncon- 
 sciously, until the major vowed he could never sit 
 comfortably lazy any more, for fear he might be 
 ungraceful, and if he was in range of her eyes 
 he knew his little captain would have an outline 
 of his proportions on paper. 
 
 Other eyes than his crept into her sketch-book 
 in those days, in the days when he, her first friend, 
 would bring pencil and tablet, and read aloud, now 
 and then, bits of the new work he was busy on; a 
 half-historical romance of the old Indian govern- 
 ment of Long Island; and ah! how delightful it 
 was to work so, feeling so close a soul that vibrated
 
 GALEED. 239 
 
 to every touch of feeling, to every subtle sense 
 that to a creator of ideal work is as his own heart- 
 beats. And then, as a guerdon for work well done, 
 just a hand clasp just the words: "It is good." 
 And what an inspiration that presence was; what 
 wild flights of fancy were led by her into realms 
 of the imagination that had never been opened to 
 him alone! 
 
 ' ' You do help me. I think you are leaving the 
 impress of your own personality on all my work," 
 he said to her one day when, on reading over the 
 loose sheets, he was struck by the new music of 
 words he had written as a narration, and that half 
 unconsciously had taken coloring from this new 
 vein of spring-time in his blood. " You are mak- 
 ing of me a poor poet, where before I was but a 
 chronicler." 
 
 "Then it has all been well, there is no cause 
 for for regret to youf 
 
 He looked at her a moment. How close he had 
 need to keep bonds on his speech, or his -manner 
 since the night of the storm, only himself knew. 
 But, little by little, his earnest friendliness had 
 reassured her; she seemed afraid no longer. In a 
 way, she had convinced herself that he had been 
 sorry for her that night. Yes, that was the 
 foundation of his tenderness, and as for her own 
 violent emotions, that was a memory at which 
 she closed her eyes with a half- feeling of shame. 
 Delicious it had been, just for that once to lie 
 close in his arms that were so strong a shelter. 
 Just for once to give soul for soul, through eyes
 
 240 IN LOVE'S DOMAINS. 
 
 that were content to lie forever under the sea as 
 a penalty for that sweetness of confession! Yes, 
 it was worth all life she had ever known. But 
 ah! the guilt of it! That ghost whose black, 
 shadowy hand made a discord that echoed ever 
 through the music of heart-throbs! For the first 
 few days, she had not been able to look at him 
 much, when speaking; her eyes would wander to 
 the carpet, or across the meadow to the bay. But 
 he had changed all that with his manner that was 
 so frankly tender, so earnestly anxious to make 
 her forget all things remorseful, by allowing her 
 to believe that she, herself, had no serious cause 
 for regret. 
 
 " A kiss to a friend one who understands you 
 and who will be proud of it always? Do not 
 feel humiliated because of that; the only excuse 
 for shame would be my own un worthiness, try to 
 remember that I feel it so, and for my sake 
 
 Ah, yes, the guilt was past just as the storm 
 was, and there was nothing to fear in this new 
 firmness of friendship that gave them both 
 their gladness of youth, with its atmosphere of 
 innocence. Does that understanding of hearts 
 bring always its own lease of life to the emotions 
 emotions that open wide their lips as blossoms 
 in the sun, and send their fragrance heavenward? 
 
 " Sometimes I feel a little afraid of these days 
 of this new, restful content they give me a 
 fear of a rude awakening, they are too perfect to 
 last." 
 
 It was only the natural fear of a woman' s hearr-
 
 GALEED. 241 
 
 that was dazed a little with the new gifts granted 
 it, and he smiled at the fear teasing her about 
 those old superstitions of hers that he supposed 
 extended to presentiments. 
 
 "Yes, I am superstitious in some things," she 
 acknowledged, ''just little fancies of my own. 
 And, lately well, all the world seems changing 
 for me. I am made to think of what may be, 
 since nothing is as it was." 
 
 "But it is better with you?" 
 
 "Yes, it is better; it will be better. I know 
 that, when alone again, I shall never feel as I have 
 felt, and the 'have beens' were very miserable 
 sometimes. You have helped me from them 
 from more than I could tell you." 
 
 How full of the warmth and promise of the 
 summer air were those confidences, and how full 
 were those hours of the grand possibilities life 
 held for each! Together in thought, helpful in 
 sympathy, pure in design; those were the 
 exchanges that had grown to be their hope for the 
 future. Their lives would be lived apart. Yes, 
 that was an accepted fact they had never once 
 dreamed of combating. But neither would ever 
 again feel alone souls and sympathies know no 
 barriers of space, and a friendship such as that 
 could bring no blame to their eyes, no wrong to 
 anyone else. Sometimes he spoke to her, lately, 
 of the girl he was to marry, and now she could 
 ask about her as it was impossible to do before; 
 she was his, therefore she was of interest to his 
 friend, so they had grown to think of it. And the 
 
 13
 
 242 IN LOVE'S DOMAINS. 
 
 story of his own faults, lie told to her, of his own 
 deficiencies, that had not yet been able to lose 
 him the liking of the girl who had promised to 
 be his wife. He spoke of her frankness, her 
 gayness, as he had known her for years. 
 
 u Oh, yes, Blanche has known me for a long 
 time, so there are no illusions to be dispelled I 
 do not think there ever were many on either 
 side." 
 
 The ground for this topic was never quite safe, 
 that is, neither felt quite at ease on it, though 
 they tried to be so careful, lest the other would 
 see it, and yet, simply because they were endeav- 
 oring to follow duty, they mistakenly dreamed that 
 they were honest. 
 
 " You like Fra Lippo ever so much more than 
 you used to, don't you, Judith?" queried Grace, 
 complacently. " I never was quite sure, before, 
 just how you were going to act with each other, if 
 there was a party made up; of course you were 
 always courteous, but both of you used to take 
 ironical fits that were inclined to create an atmos- 
 phere. I think it was you mostly yes, I do 
 you would demolish some of his loveliest ideas 
 with a glance, or a little laugh, but now 
 
 "Well now?" suggested Mrs. Winans, teas- 
 ingly. "You young romancer, what new 
 material have you found?" 
 
 "I find lots in Judith," announced Grace, 
 frankly; " I was reading somewhere, lately, that 
 artists must have in themselves the material for 
 every character they create, and if Judith is an
 
 GALEED, 243 
 
 example, I believe it. At first, seeing her on the 
 water alone, I imagined her a sort of salt-water 
 Amazon, with her independence and her strong 
 arms. Then, when I knew her, she was so calmly 
 serene, so graciously sweet; even in her irony to 
 Fra Lippo, she was beautiful don't listen, if 
 you are afraid of being vain but, since the ankle 
 episode, I have forgotten I ever thought her only 
 beautiful. She is so lovely now, in a soft way 
 that" 
 
 "Thanks, I don't mind the adjectives. Don't 
 limit yourself," laughed Judith. 
 
 " Well, not soft," corrected Grace, reflectively, 
 " but just lovable yes, you are, dear. I used to 
 admire you afar off, as I would something in mar- 
 ble; but now, since you've been a cripple, you've 
 changed into something so kissable that you're a 
 constant temptation. ' ' 
 
 "Grace, I fear for your future," said Mrs. 
 Holmes, looking at her solemnly over a book of 
 etchings; " for when you find that ideal lover of 
 yours, that is to be, you will have used up all the 
 pretty speeches, and his most ardent will seem 
 rather second-hand affairs to you." 
 
 "Then I will teach him to coin new ones," 
 answered the girl, with youth' s assurance. ' ' But, 
 without joking, Judith, you really are always a 
 sort of 'unexpected.' Now, being tied to a lounge 
 or a chair for nearly two w^eeks would bring out 
 the worst side of any other person's nature; but 
 you well you just sweeten like a persimmon 
 when the frost comes."
 
 244 IN LOVE'S DOMAINS. 
 
 And, during the laugh at Grace's simile, the 
 major came, jolly and sun-burned, with the budget 
 of mail from the office. 
 
 "There, little captain, is yours; all business 
 envelopes. Do you never have any gossipy let- 
 ters from your kind, like other women? And 
 there is yours, Miss Grace. One from papa, and 
 one from Tom; and here, little woman, is yours, 
 and one of them is from 'papa,' also. This affair 
 of chaperon is likely to be the occasion of coffee 
 and pistols for two. And there are Alison's. 
 He is younger than I am, and can come for them. 
 I weigh too much to trot upstairs;" and having 
 delivered himself of letters and opinions, he set- 
 tled himself to read the Herald. 
 
 "Oh, Tom's a darling!" burst out Grace, in 
 exultation. " Yes, he is, he has helped me out 
 of such a scrape with papa, you know, a lot of 
 bother, because I spent too much money, and papa 
 began to look it up and ask questions, and then 
 Tom stepx^ed in and helped me out. It was away 
 last spring. He needn't have made such a fuss 
 about it now." 
 
 "No," chimed in the major, in a suspiciously 
 sympathetic tone. "Away last spring! where did 
 the money go, Puss?" 
 
 She smiled roguishly at him around the corner 
 of his paper. 
 
 "I'll tell you," she said, confidentially, 
 "because you know how it is yourself. Well, the 
 most of it went to Blanche Athol, at the Jerome 
 Park races."
 
 GALEED. 245 
 
 "Urn," murmured the major, looking at her 
 quizzically, as a big mastiff would at a little lap- 
 dog, " so you bet on the wrong horse?" 
 
 "No, I didn't. My betting was all right, but 
 the wrong horse won." 
 
 " Well, you have a treasure in a brother that 
 helps you out of scrapes like that," said the 
 major, " you'd better stick to him." 
 
 "Well, I rather guess I will," answered the 
 girl, with a sudden burst of affection. " The 
 dear boy! After all, men know best about every- 
 thing, except the things a woman knows better. 
 That is not original," she added, as if averse to 
 being credited with borrowed wit. 
 
 "No," said Mrs. Winans, reflectively; "it 
 sounds familiar; who was it said that? George 
 Eliot, was it not?" 
 
 "Yes, that grand woman!" said Mrs. Holmes, 
 looking up from a business-looking, tyjpe-written 
 letter. 
 
 "You admire her work so much?" asked the 
 older woman. 
 
 "Yes, thoroughly, and more than her work I 
 admire the woman herself her bravery her 
 truth." 
 
 " You are an enthusiast." 
 
 "Yes, I am on that subject what a great 
 heart!" 
 
 "But not a model character not just one's 
 idea of a good woman, you know," said Mrs. 
 Winans, rather doubtfully. 
 
 "Not just one's idea of most good women,"
 
 246 IN LOVE'S DOMAINS. 
 
 assented Mrs. Holmes, "because so many of 
 them are only passively good. But she! ah, she 
 was one in a thousand!" 
 
 "But," remonstrated Mrs. Winans, while the 
 major dropped his paper at the tinge of interest 
 in their tones, "but, really, Judith, you know 
 that, morally, she was far from perfect." 
 
 "I know she was not orthodox in her perfec- 
 tions; but they, none the less, existed in my eyes, 
 and I doubt if the world's opinion of her person- 
 ality touched her deeply. If so, to intercede for 
 her, she left her work; it speaks, and will live to 
 speak for her cleanness of soul." 
 
 "But her life was such a contradiction," said 
 the little lady. "I do not think I am unchar- 
 itable, but I can not see in her a type to admire." 
 
 " I do, for her bravery. A woman, sensitive as 
 she was, must have required a strong motive for 
 setting herself outside of the world's approval. 
 But the motive, to her, was the earnest, lasting 
 need a human life had of her. I can think of 
 none stronger." 
 
 " But, my dear, that may be admirable to you 
 in the abstract, because of her work, that made 
 amends for much. But think of it as an exam- 
 ple, put yourself in her place, and I am sure you 
 would have a higher code of morals as a guide." 
 
 "I'm not sure of it at all, and I don't believe 
 I should have." 
 
 "Easy, easy, little captain!" broke in the major, 
 "you'll get yourself in discredit, just for the sake 
 of an argument."
 
 GALEED. 247 
 
 ' ' I don' t think it' s for the sake of the argument, ' ' 
 answered Mrs. Holmes; " I am in earnest, andean 
 understand the seriousness with which she 
 changed her life for him, whether either Church 
 or State approved; what are Church or State that 
 they should bind or loose the affections? One's 
 own soul is the best bondsman for one's own life. 
 If marriage is not an evil, then neither is that 
 mutual sacrifice of self that bound those two." 
 
 "My dear, I really, one would think you dis- 
 approved of marriage altogether," said Mrs. 
 Winans, a little distressed. She felt that those 
 ideas of Judith's were not right, yet knew that 
 the wrong ideas had been bred by that strange, 
 unfit childhood of hers, and crowned by a mistake 
 of union, that left little idea of sanctity in the 
 bond. How could one combat them, or condemn 
 the origin without blame to a loved father, or a 
 husband whom she, herself, never voluntarily men- 
 tioned. 
 
 " No, I do not disapprove of marriage, and the 
 conventional form that governs it. It is right for 
 those who want their vows to be registered like 
 that. But suppose a marriage like this one we 
 speak of, one in which the common custom could 
 not be followed, now why should their lives and 
 their life-work be spoiled for lack of a form 
 that surely has little weight with God, for, with 
 different nations, there are different fashions in 
 giving such vows, and none are willing to say: 
 ' Ours is the wrong.' ' 
 
 "Well, it is lucky most women do not think
 
 248 IN LOVERS DOMAINS. 
 
 like that," remarked the major, dryly, "else 
 society would be left without much stability." 
 
 " I doubt whether God will judge souls from 
 their standing toward society so much as from 
 their honesty to themselves, and each other, in 
 following the instincts He gave them when He gave 
 them breath." 
 
 "Dear me, Judith," said Mrs. Winans, com- 
 plainingly; " you are such a curious compound. 
 Just as Grace said, ' You are always just the thing 
 no one expects you to be.' You are advocating a 
 theory that would shock all your sense of refine- 
 ment if put into practice by those near you." 
 
 "Am I so inconsistent?" asked Mrs. Holmes. 
 "Ah, well, my opinion makes no difference in 
 the right or wrong of it, only I never can hear 
 George Eliot classed among the immoral without 
 feeling antagonistic. To me she seemed an honest, 
 brave woman, and I think she seemed so to him." 
 
 Nothing more was said on the subject, and the 
 conversation drifted to other topics. But, inside 
 the window of the parlor, Alison's ears had been 
 drawn into listening, carelessly at first, but at the 
 finish there was a strange look in the eyes gazing 
 so fixedly ahead of him. A mirror was opposite, 
 and in it he for an instant saw himself as he was, 
 and something in his face must have been an 
 unpleasant revelation, for he jumped to his feet. 
 
 "No, by God!" 
 
 Whatever the oath was for, it did not tend to 
 make him social, for, without going to claim his 
 letters that lay just outside the window, he picked
 
 GALEED. 249 
 
 up his hat, and making his exit by the back door, 
 struck out across the fields, and their host, 
 returning from buying vegetables back in the 
 country, brought word he had met Mr. Alison, 
 who said to tell his friends he was going back to 
 the Montauk settlement, possibly to Hampton, 
 and might not return until next day. 
 
 "Dear me," said Mrs. Winans, regretfully. 
 " How strange he did not mention it at breakfast! 
 Really, we have grown to seem like a little family, 
 and one absentee breaks the circle." 
 
 " Especially if it is a Don Juan who breaks 
 ladies' bones for the sake of carrying them, and 
 flirts with another until her own husband scarcely 
 ever gets a chance to say even ' How do you do ' 
 to her," grunted the major, in mock jealousy; 
 "now I've got the three of you on my hands. 
 Miss Grace, you will have to exist on my devotion 
 until to-morrow, and I'll begin by beating you at 
 poker, five-cent ante." 
 
 " You'll have to trust me for your winnings 
 then," answered the girl; "but I do wonder what 
 took Fra Lippo away like that, not saying a word 
 even to me. Perhaps he has a dusky Minnehaha 
 back there for a sweetheart, and fears my jeal- 
 ousy, " she hazarded, complacently. " I' 11 get the 
 cards. Come over here, major, where the sun 
 won't strike us." 
 
 But the one member of the party who thought 
 most of his abrupt leave said nothing, only all the 
 day was long to her without the sound of his 
 voice.
 
 250 IN LOVE'S DOMAINS. 
 
 CHAPTER XI. 
 
 Yet I feel that I shall stand 
 Henceforward in thy shadow. Nevermore 
 Alone upon the threshold of my door 
 Of individual life. 
 
 The lame ankle was mending, and the morning 
 after the discussion of George Eliot the invalid 
 limped out on the verandah with the aid of the 
 major's cane, and avowed her intention of taking 
 a good walk before she was a week older. What 
 a glorious morning it seemed to her! how the 
 birds twittered in the early sunshine! how the 
 dew diamonds glittered in the grass! and how 
 sweet those red roses smelled as they clambered 
 over the wall of their next door neighbor! And 
 through all the freshness of the new day every 
 heart-beat said: "So much nearer his coming 
 but a little while longer to wait." 
 
 It was friendship, so they told each other, but 
 had either of them ever guessed before how dear 
 a thing friendship could be? Only a few days 
 before, in speaking of the help it had been to the 
 work of each, he had said: "It is the sweetest 
 happiness of my life." To be sure he tried to 
 modify it a little in a later speech, and flattered 
 himself on doing it ingeniously. But. this beau- 
 tiful morning, all the modifications disappeared as 
 vapors in the sun's warmth. All the tenderness
 
 GALEED. 251 
 
 of his tones came back to her; all the content in 
 his eyes as he had looked at her. Yes, he was 
 only her friend; their bond was, they had told 
 themselves, one without selfish ends, without 
 passion. Theirs should be an affection such as 
 Christ commanded when He said: "Love ye one 
 another." All that was dross was to be set asi4e 
 in their natures, so they had told this new ideal 
 in visionary fashion, and so they had meant and 
 hoped to be honest. 
 
 But, waiting for him through the warmth of the 
 June morning, her want of him was very human. 
 She watched the steamer move stately through the 
 bay waters, and could see away down the road the 
 tourists crossing to the village from the dock. 
 She watched two birds pulling at a great earth 
 worm, preparing to carry it, no doubt, to little ones 
 at home. She tried to talk to the others, but 
 beautiful with all promise as the morning seemed 
 to her, yet she did not feel like talking. No, if 
 he was here she did not think they would talk. 
 But she knew then that the day, even in silence, 
 would be complete. 
 
 At last, when noon was close and he had not 
 returned, she went back to her little sitting-room. 
 
 "I will see him just as soon," she thought, and 
 smiled at the surety of his seeking her. Some of 
 his late work she began to read over until he 
 came. "They are his thoughts if not himself," she 
 said, and so tried to settle herself to content, 
 picking out the bits for illustration, jotting down 
 ideas for the work she intended doing for it.
 
 IN LOVERS DOMAINS. 
 
 Suddenly she heard a step surely his step in 
 the hall below, then on the stairs, and then no, 
 that was not his knock, there was a strange ring 
 to it, and she called, "Come in," wondering who 
 it was. 
 
 The door opened and Alison entered, closing it 
 behind him, and looking at her without moving 
 or even speaking. 
 
 "I thought I knew both your step and your 
 knock by this time," she said, looking up smil- 
 ingly; "but I never heard you rap like that 
 before." 
 
 "No?" 
 
 How strange that entrance and greeting seemed 
 to her, after her dreams of the morning. Just 
 that flash of thought came to her, and then 
 
 " She is here I I came first to tell you." 
 
 " She?" Ah! how far away his face grew as in 
 a mist! She rose to her feet saying nothing more. 
 
 " Blanche. They wrote yesterday, but I missed 
 the word by leaving." There was silence for a 
 little, then he said: "I I do not know what to 
 say to you." 
 
 How strange his face looked to her, and how 
 white, but his words roused her. 
 
 "There is nothing to say," she answered, and 
 her voice, very low as it was, seemed to be as 
 strange as his face. "It is sudden, and and that 
 is all." 
 
 His gaze disturbed her as much as the sudden- 
 ness of his announcement. He looked at her so 
 steadily, as if all his heart was in his eyes. The
 
 GALEED. 253 
 
 cloak of friendship was gone from his manner; 
 but what was this sprite that had taken its 
 place? 
 
 " They are coming here from the hotel to see 
 the others; will you come down?" 
 
 She looked at him for an instant, and then tried 
 to speak naturally. " I I " 
 
 "My friend." 
 
 He took a step nearer, holding out his hand 
 to her as he spoke. 
 
 " Yes," she said, calmly, " I will come down. I 
 am glad you came to tell me; but but please 
 go away now." 
 
 And loosening her hand, she turned from him, 
 heard him touch the handle of the door, and then 
 in another instant he had crossed the room, and 
 his arms were about her, his head bent so low, so 
 closely above her face. 
 
 "Try to forgive," he whispered; but the sen- 
 tence, whatever it was intended to be, had its 
 finale drowned by the closeness of his mouth 
 against her cheek. 
 
 She did not speak, did not even try to look at 
 him. One hand she raised to his as if to loosen its 
 clasp about her, but the hand was as unruly as 
 her heart, and was held so fondly that it left her 
 helpless. 
 
 "Listen to me," he said, in a quiet way, still 
 not moving, still holding her close: "I have not 
 been honest as we hoped to be. Yesterday, I 
 knew it. That is why I left. I came back to 
 tell you the truth and go away. But now "
 
 254 IN LOVE'S DOMAINS. 
 
 All the contingencies to be met and battled 
 with, all the double life to be lived under her 
 eyes left his speech a broken fragment. 
 
 "I understand," she answered. "You can not 
 leave now that they have come." She heard him 
 breathe, in a half whisper, a low, sweet title of 
 tenderness, and it helped her to add: " Do not be 
 afraid for me, I will be strong. I mean you 
 shall see how hard I will try to be your friend." 
 
 "My friend," he echoed, as if in half -mockery 
 of himself. "Ah, dear! my dear, if I could only 
 be more worthy!" 
 
 CHAPTER XII. 
 
 Be it my wrong, you are from me exempt; 
 
 But wrong not that wrong with a more contempt. 
 
 COMEDY OF ERRORS. 
 
 " You are not at all what I expected to see from 
 Dale's letters," said Miss Athol, bluntly, two 
 days later, when, at a lunch arranged by Mrs. 
 Winans, the new-comers were entertained in an 
 impromptu, charming fashion. The major, Alison, 
 and a little nephew of Blanche's had adjourned 
 to the porch, and the ladies were left chatting 
 over the strawberries and cake, and the tea that 
 was served in Russian fashion. 
 
 "It is delicious," said Blanche, sipping hers 
 slowly. "But the taste of it is always associated 
 in my mind with dead men under the snow, and
 
 GALEED. 256 
 
 sombre Jewish faces with sad eyes, because I first 
 drank it so at Verestchagin's exhibition last 
 fall." 
 
 "Those pictures must have been a great treat," 
 said Mrs. Holmes. " I was South, so did not get 
 to see them, much to my own regret." 
 
 "Nellie raved over them," said Blanche, desig- 
 nating her sister, Mrs. Julian, who, as Grace had 
 said, was trying to act as chaperon to this speci- 
 men of contemporaneous girlhood. 
 
 " I should imagine they deserved it," remarked 
 Mrs. Holmes, trying so hard to be interested in 
 this girl who was to be his wife, and only ending 
 by a wonder as to what her charm had been for 
 him. For, dashy, beautifully dressed, and 
 assertive, she had in her long brown eyes and her 
 tousled blonde head a magnetism that did not 
 communicate itself to her own sex. 
 
 "Oh, I don't know," she said, in answer to 
 Mrs. Holmes. "They were, of course, if one 
 wants to go into the realistic order of the artistic 
 craze. Nellie does, you know. She would have 
 pictures on her walls if she didn't have clothes to 
 wear. But, for my part, those Russian things 
 made me tired. I mean the big, weighty things. 
 Why, they make one feel so insignificant." 
 
 " I told her it was because they had more soul 
 in one of their painted faces than she had in her 
 whole body," remarked Mrs. Julian, with sisterly 
 frankness. 
 
 "Well, perhaps," assented Blanche, indiffer- 
 ently. " Only I did not see much to rave about,
 
 250 IN LOVE'S DOMAINS. 
 
 since, in the whole collection, there was not a 
 single face of a pretty woman." 
 
 "Are you so in love with pretty women?" asked 
 Grace. This was a subject interesting to herself, 
 all her romantic heroines forming extraordinary 
 attractions in that line. 
 
 " I don't know about being in love with them," 
 answered Blanche, coolly, her eyes glancing 
 across her cup at Mrs. Holmes' clear-cut, softly- 
 curved profile. " But I do like to look at them 
 in pictures." 
 
 "I like to look at the originals," announced 
 Grace, with a malignant frown at the red, smiling 
 mouth and the brown eyes. She alone had seen 
 the glance that accompanied Blanche's speech, 
 and, like a loyal champion, was ready for battle 
 perhaps incited thereto by the memory of 
 sundry lost dollars which Blanche had pocketed 
 with that same sort of equivocal smile. 
 
 And then, from a discussion on faces in general, 
 and women's faces in particular, had arisen that 
 remark of Blanche's. "No, you are not at all as I 
 expected to see you from Dale's letters." 
 
 "No?" and she tried to speak carelessly. "I 
 did not imagine myself of sufficient interest for 
 description." 
 
 "Oh, yes, you were to him," said Blanche, 
 frankly. "He used to talk of you a great deal 
 when you made those first illustrations he was 
 so charmed with your ideas and conception of the 
 characters." 
 
 " I am very glad; it was a pleasure to do the
 
 GALEED. 257 
 
 work," she answered, and wondered, as she spoke, 
 how she could sit still and hear this girl's cool 
 discussion of his thoughts and her personality. 
 
 " It was lovely work. I do not wonder he was 
 so pleased," said Mrs. Julian. "I doubt if he 
 could have found anyone to carry out his ideas as 
 you did, Mrs. Holmes. We thought it wonderful, 
 as you had no personal knowledge of each other." 
 
 "Yes," went on Blanche; "Nellie and Dale 
 both raved about them, until Mrs. Holmes seemed 
 a member of the family. But, gradually, Dale 
 dropped out of the craze, that is, he kept quiet in 
 his wondering as to who you were and what you 
 were like. Perhaps," and she laughed a little, 
 looking at Mrs. Holmes curiously, "perhaps 
 because I teased him." 
 
 "Blanche!" said Mrs. Julian, with a look of 
 irritation; but the woman discussed only glanced 
 up calmly, her brows raised ever so slightly. 
 
 "What is it, Nellie?" asked Blanche, inno- 
 cently, in an exasperatingly -unconscious manner, 
 and then she turned again to Mrs. Holmes. ' ' I am 
 always saying something she disapproves of; she 
 will tell me, when she gets me home, that I show 
 bad taste. But, you see, I did tease him about 
 Mrs. Holmes it wasn't you, you know only 
 the name. But he had puzzled so over your per- 
 sonality, until, if we were out together he and I 
 I was always picking out the most grotesque 
 creatures I could see, and calling them Mrs. 
 Holmes, and prophesying that if he ever met you 
 he would find you looked like some of them." 
 
 17
 
 258 IN LOVE'S DOMAINS. 
 
 "Grotesque!" said Grace, so indignantly that 
 the rest could not help laughing at her energy, 
 as she crossed to her paragon' s chair, and leaned 
 over the bronze head lovingly. "Well, if you want 
 to find anything grotesque, Blanche Athol, you 
 don't want to come to this end of the table." 
 
 "Grace!" said Mrs. Winans, in a softer copy of 
 Mrs. Julian's tone. Evidently, from the aggressive 
 attitude of Grace, the two chaperons were likely 
 to have trouble with their charges. 
 
 "Oh, you little goose!" said Blanche, laughing 
 until the tears were in her eyes; "don't be silly. 
 I am sure I beg Mrs. Holmes' pardon, now that I 
 know her; but none of us knew her then, so I was 
 not treading on anyone's sensibilities I don't 
 dare say corns, for Nellie's looking. And do 
 you know, Mrs. Holmes, when Dale wrote me he 
 had been so fortunate as to meet you, he wouldn't 
 write me a line as to how you looked, or whether 
 my prophecies were correct, or anything; wasn't 
 that revengeful?" 
 
 "It was just right," said Grace, promptly. 
 
 " And," continued Blanche, "when I asked him 
 by letter, he said all sorts of lovely things about 
 your character and your goodness. But I fully 
 expected to find a motherly, matronly soul, with a 
 semi-religious turn of mind the sort that keeps 
 tracts on their tables instead of the latest maga- 
 zines. So, as I said, you were an agreeable sur- 
 prise to me." 
 
 "Did you say it?" asked Mrs. Holmes in her 
 clearest, coolest tones. "I did not hear you."
 
 GALEED. 259 
 
 And then she turned to Grace, laughingly protest- 
 ing against that young gormand having another 
 dish of berries. And Blanche Athol, watching her 
 lovely face with a half-attraction, half-antago- 
 nism, felt herself courteously cut. 
 
 " Who is she, anyway?" she asked, supercili- 
 ously, of her fiance, as he walked home with her 
 to their hotel. " One would think her a princess 
 incognito from that air she has." 
 
 "I am sorry you feel so," he answered; " I wish 
 you could know her better; she is a woman in a 
 thousand." 
 
 "Yes, no doubt," said Blanche, ironically; 
 " but a woman in a thousand may mean anything. 
 What particular part of the thousand does she 
 belong to?" 
 
 "I think we had better not discuss Mrs. 
 Holmes, since you take that tone," he said, 
 quietly. "I have too high a regard for her 
 friendship to hear her misunderstood." 
 
 "Yes?" and she glanced up at him with those 
 long brown eyes that were so worldly-wise, 
 despite the girlish chatter. She was rather 
 inclined to be antagonistic that evening, no mat- 
 ter what the subject in hand was. She had come 
 to the quiet little place against her will. It had 
 been Nellie's doings, for which Blanche knew 
 that Nellie had reasons, and she felt in her bones 
 that she would tell Dale what the reasons were, 
 and she was not sure how Dale would take them. 
 To be sure, he had always been carelessly good- 
 natured with any of her larkings in the past of
 
 260 IN LOVE'S DOMAINS. 
 
 which there had been several. She thought of 
 that as they walked across the meadow to the 
 village street, and stealing a questioning glance 
 at his set mouth and his sombre eyes, she won- 
 dered if, after all, he might be rather hard to 
 manage, despite his quiet acceptance of the past. 
 
 "To be sure, he hadn't much but the shelter of 
 glass houses himself, in those first days," she rea- 
 soned, reflectively, " and, consequently, could not 
 afford to spout the lesser order of things; but since 
 he has been so painfully correct that his best 
 friends wouldn't know him well, there's no 
 knowing what sort of a crank he may develop 
 into." And then, remembering his tone in speak- 
 ing of this new acquaintance that they all seemed 
 to bow to, she felt an impish desire to tease him, 
 beside harrowing her own awakened curiosity. 
 She felt that she was likely to have a scene with 
 him and Nellie before leaving the miserable little 
 place, anyway, and with the reckless willingness 
 to be hung for a sheep, instead of a lamb, she 
 remarked: 
 
 "I see you haven't been wasting any time 
 down here, from Mrs. Winans' thrilling account 
 of your late adventure. A sprained ankle is such 
 an interesting foundation for the dignified order 
 of high-class friendships; a rather new style of 
 thing for you, isn't it?" 
 
 That one cool glance, and the one cool speech 
 from Mrs. Holmes had irritated her more than a 
 woman usually could, and added to it Mr. Ali- 
 son's words of regard that made her resentful.
 
 GALEED. 261 
 
 She was furious at being snubbed for this clear- 
 eyed woman, as she had been by both her sister 
 and her fiance. And he, looking at her as she 
 spoke, wondered how he had ever been amused 
 by this sulky little creature, or how he had found 
 her free speech and her air of bonhomie so 
 charming. 
 
 "I do not feel in the mood for jests over what 
 might have been a serious affair to a friend," he 
 said, in a cold, terse sort of way that told her of 
 repressed anger. "As to my own style of friends 
 in the past, the fact of changing them should, I 
 think, receive a different reception from you. A 
 weeding out of our past companionships would 
 not be detrimental to either of us." 
 
 "I wonder what he means by that?" she 
 thought; but aloud she said: "Speak for your- 
 self, please; do you want to begin with me?" 
 
 They had reached the hotel by this time, and at 
 the steps he paused. 
 
 " I think I had better not come in this even- 
 ing," he said, quietly; "to-morrow you may be in 
 a more tractable mood." 
 
 "Yes, I am likely to be," she said, ironically; 
 " neglect is so apt to have a soothing effect on the 
 temper." 
 
 "I have not knowingly neglected you at any 
 time," he answered, decidedly, and stood doubt- 
 fully leaning against the porch railing. He felt 
 guilty of much, but knew that this was only a pet- 
 tish accusation raised as an excuse for much that 
 was in bad taste. But the fault to her, of which
 
 262 IN LOVE'S DOMAINS. 
 
 he had been guilty, made him more patient than 
 he could otherwise have been, feeling, as he did, 
 that he must do what he could to make amends. 
 She tapped her foot impatiently on the painted 
 floor of the hotel porch. 
 
 " You were not at all glad to see me," she said 
 at last, in a disputive way. 
 
 "As much so as you were to come, I believe," 
 he answered, "that is, if one can trust little 
 pitchers with big ears," referring to her little 
 nephew, Howard Julian. 
 
 " Oh, of course, if you intend to listen to a 
 child's chatter," she began, in a lofty tone of dis- 
 dain. He looked at her as if waiting for the fin- 
 ished sentence, but there seemed to be no more 
 of it. 
 
 " See here, Blanche," he said, in a conciliatory 
 way; "it is very foolish to build up imaginary 
 grievances of this sort. If you had let our mar- 
 riage take place in the spring, as I asked you, 
 there would have been no cause for this misunder- 
 standing, for we should not have been sepa- 
 rated." 
 
 But for some reason the marriage was not a 
 thing Blanche cared to discuss. 
 
 "That is no reason why you can't come in the 
 parlor now," she answered, in a skirmishing fash- 
 ion, fighting shy of the main line. 
 
 "Certainly not," he agreed; "but try to be a 
 little more like yourself, Blanche; something has 
 changed you this summer." 
 
 But he followed her into the parlor, when, after
 
 GALEED. 263 
 
 a short chat with herself and sister, he left, and 
 walked out, out under the stars, a long way ere 
 he thought of returning for rest or sleep. 
 
 After he had gone, Blanche turned to her sister. 
 
 "Have you told Dale anything?" she asked, 
 abruptly. 
 
 " Anything?" in a non-commital way. 
 
 " Oh, you know what I mean; any of that non- 
 sensical idea you got in your head about 
 
 "Was it so nonsensical?" asked the older 
 woman, keenly. 
 
 " Did you tell him?" was all Blanche said. 
 
 "No, I didn't, but I will," answered Mrs. Jul- 
 ian, looking at her squarely; "that is, if you 
 don't either break your engagement, or behave 
 more as you know he would like you." 
 
 " I don't think you need trouble yourself about 
 his wishes, when he hides himself out in those 
 world-forgotten places, instead of coming where 
 we were for the summer." 
 
 "You don't remember, then, your own deter- 
 mination for going to the other side this summer. 
 Dale has work to do, and laid his plans accord- 
 ingly. Try to have some consideration." 
 
 " Oh, dear!" said the girl, in a tired way. " I do 
 wish you would all let me alone. Why would you 
 persist in stopping here? Just to frighten me, I 
 suppose. If you would only have let me be, and 
 not nagged so at me, I never would have hunted 
 up someone else for pastime, and now " She 
 stopped rather unsteadily, and after a little Nellie 
 crossed over to her.
 
 264 IN LOVE'S DOMAINS. 
 
 "Blanclie, are you crying?" she asked, in slow 
 surprise. Blanche as a Niobe was rather a rarity 
 to her relatives. 
 
 "Well, what of it?" she retorted, rebelliously. 
 " I wish I had never seen Dale Alison, since I am 
 to be made miserable through him. I will go 
 where I want to, where I won' t see any of you, 
 if if this sort of thing goes on." 
 
 "What sort of thing?" asked Nellie, coolly, 
 not much affected by this emotional tendency, 
 because she felt that its origin was, for the most 
 part, temper. But Blanche made no reply, and 
 after a little her sister continued: 
 
 "I stopped here to give you a chance to see 
 him, and because Ned, as your guardian, insisted 
 on us coming this way. He likes Dale, and will 
 not have him trifled with by you. And if it is 
 done in the future, he says decidedly that Dale 
 shall not be kept in ignorance of it, and that I 
 shall not chaperon you. Now, there is the whole 
 affair." 
 
 There was silence for a little while, and then 
 Blanche arose and stood looking out of the win- 
 dow into the gathering darkness. 
 
 " So your lord and master has laid down his 
 rules for me, has he?" she queried, ironically, 
 with her back to Mrs. Julian; "and this is my 
 last chance. Well, you can tell him for me that 
 I may not need a chaperon a great while." 
 
 " You mean you are going to marry Dale this 
 summer, after all?" 
 
 " I don 1 1 know, I'm sure. By the time Ned and
 
 GALEED. 265 
 
 you get through with your messages of me, he 
 may not do me the honor to want me. Good- 
 night." 
 
 CHAPTER XIII. 
 
 And to most of us ere we go down to the grave, 
 Life, relenting, accords the good gift we would have; 
 But as though by some strange imperfection in fate, 
 The good gift, when it comes, comes a moment too late. 
 
 MEREDITH. 
 
 "And so we are going to Northport," said 
 Grace to Mrs. Julian. " Judith's foot is so much 
 better, she is sure she can make the journey all 
 right. You see we can go all the way by steamer. " 
 
 " And do you all move whenever Mrs. Holmes 
 makes it her pleasure to do so?" 
 
 It was Blanche who asked this, and who in 
 some way had failed to make any closer acquaint- 
 ance with the subject of their discourse. 
 
 " No, we do not, though we would all be glad 
 to," said Grace, stoutly; "we always intended 
 going there. I am to go because the Winans are 
 going, and papa left me in their care for six weeks 
 yet. And Judith says she has still a month to 
 put in at some of the nooks on the island, so she 
 goes with us. Poor dear, we would have gone 
 before this, but for her accident." 
 
 " And we are going to-morrow," said Howard, 
 gleefully ; ' ' and back to Ocean Grove. I' m awfully 
 glad; only I wish Dale would come, too, instead of
 
 266 IN LOVE'S DOMAINS. 
 
 staying here and hunting up things about Indians 
 that's nearly all dead. I like him better than 
 
 "There, there, never mind about your prefer- 
 ences," broke in Blanche, "but take that ball 
 and your fishing-tackle out on the porch." 
 
 " So you are going so soon?" said Alison, when 
 the major had told him of their plans. 
 
 "Why not say, 'so late'?" Mrs. Holmes 
 returned, smiling rather dubiously, but not look- 
 ing at him. Their exchange of glances or words 
 had been few under this new order of comrade- 
 ship that had superseded the old. It was not easy 
 for them to talk commonplaces, knowing, as they 
 did, the state of each other's mind. 
 
 "Have the days been so hard to you?" he 
 asked, in answer to her words. " How have you 
 been living them?" 
 
 " Trying to think a little, and finding myself a 
 failure, I fear." 
 
 "Come, sit down here," he said, drawing a 
 chair up to the window of her sitting-room, 
 where he had gone to see her on hearing she was 
 to leave. " I want to ask you something, and am 
 not sure how you will think of me for it, but 
 
 " I am not likely to have very ill thoughts of 
 you at any time," she answered. "What is it?" 
 
 "Have you ever thought do you ever think of 
 getting a divorce?" 
 
 All question of her marriage had been avoided 
 always between them. There never had been any 
 word of the cause that had left her life so alone, 
 and remembering the conversation that day on
 
 GALEED. 267 
 
 the sands when he had first heard her story, he 
 could easily understand how it would be unpleas- 
 ant to speak of. But now 
 
 It seemed as if they sat there a longtime before 
 she said: " Yes, I have thought of it. My Mends 
 have spoken to me of it. I do not think I will 
 ever be divorced." 
 
 "Some time you may want more freedom. 
 What then?" 
 
 ' ' Why do you ask now?' ' she said, closing her 
 eyes in a tired way. " It does not matter. Noth- 
 ing matters much." 
 
 "Don't speak like that," he said, gently. 
 "Everything matters to me that concerns you. 
 You know that. And now, when you are going 
 away well, is it so strange that I should think of 
 the future?" 
 
 4 ' The lack of a divorce will make no difference 
 with my future," she said, dropping her eyes 
 under his gaze. "I will always be alone just 
 the same." 
 
 "And he?" 
 
 " He never wants to re-marry thinking it was 
 bad enough to make the mistake once. He would 
 would take care of me still if I would allow it. 
 And so you can see I could make no application 
 for divorce without doing so on grounds that I 
 can't speak of it to you. Don't ask me!" 
 
 She rose and stood by the window, her face 
 turned slightly from him. But he could see she 
 was much agitated. He reached out his hand 
 and clasped hers earnestly. There was nothing
 
 268 IN LOVE'S DOMAINS. 
 
 lie could say to her, knowing that there must be 
 memories of heart -sickness into which no one 
 could bring words of comfort. After a little she 
 turned round. 
 
 " What makes you have such faith in me?" 
 she asked, abruptly, half cynically. "How do 
 you know it is not I who am in the wrong not 
 he? You may be taking me too much at my own 
 valuation. You should not be too credulous." 
 
 "You have no right to say such things of me," 
 he said, clasping her hand a little closer, and 
 feeling the unwilling fingers tremble in his 
 own. 
 
 " He had no faith," she said, after a little; " he 
 never believed in me, not in any woman, and 
 through that life I grew to lose faith for so long 
 that I wonder sometimes at you. You seem so 
 steadfast." 
 
 " You lifted me into faith, into much that will 
 do me good so long as I live," he answered. 
 " You can not imagine that I shall forget." 
 
 " Will you not forget?" she asked, turning to 
 him, suddenly. " Are you so sure you will never 
 forget?" 
 
 "I am so sure." 
 
 "That is good to think," she said, smiling down 
 at him rather uncertainly. "It is selfish to ask 
 you to be unfaithful to someone else. I never 
 really would want to think you unfaithful to any- 
 thing that seemed to you duty only only, I 
 would like to think that the memory of this sum- 
 mer's friendship will always be pleasant to you,
 
 GALEED. 269 
 
 and helpful, as much so as I am sure it will be to 
 me; that will not be a wrong to your to your 
 duties of life; surely, not when we say good-bye 
 and go away as we are to do." 
 
 "You speak always of guarding my duties," 
 he said, suddenly, ' ' what of your own?" 
 
 She looked at him questioningly. 
 
 " You mean to the man I married?" she asked. 
 He had never once heard her say, " my husband." 
 
 "Yes." 
 
 "I have none," she answered, quietly. "Oh! 
 don't look at me like that! I can't tell you why; 
 but I never feel that I have any duties to him. 
 He knows it. I have told him he must never 
 expect them again, and he does not." 
 
 " My poor friend! You must have had much 
 unhappiness before you could come to such a 
 decision." 
 
 " I had," she answered, her eyes touched with 
 tears at his tenderness of manner, and then with 
 a sudden change that was half -grotesque " So 
 had he; you don't ever seem to think how misera- 
 ble the poor man must have been." 
 
 "For God's sake, don't talk like that," he said, 
 jumping up and laying his hand heavily on her 
 shoulder, "and stop laughing. I can' t stand every- 
 thing; I can't have you speak in that mockery of 
 what has, I can see, been misery. I know how 
 close that sort of mockery comes to reckless- 
 ness." 
 
 The nervous laughter broke into a half-sob as 
 she dropped her head low on her shoulder where
 
 270 IN LOVE'S DOMAINS. 
 
 his hand lay, and pressing her cheek against it, 
 she said, in a tremulous way that seemed akin to 
 contrition: 
 
 " Yes, you know, I told you that day how much 
 I was afraid of of growing reckless again, afraid 
 to trust myself. They have always thought me 
 so cold and so strong. You alone know how 
 much I have needed help. Ah! why did you ever 
 come to me? or 
 
 " Or, why must I ever go away?' 5 he said, finish- 
 ing the question that had filled both their hearts 
 for so many days; and then, in a quiet, dispassion- 
 ate sort of way, he added, " Sometimes I have felt 
 like saying that I will not." 
 
 " Don't!" she said, aroused suddenly to all the 
 meaning in those words. "Don't ever say that. 
 It is bad enough for me to be weak sometimes. 
 You must try to be strong for us both." 
 
 She looked at him so helplessly, so appealingly, 
 that his hand slipped from her shoulder down 
 along the round, full arm to her fingers, which 
 he raised to his lips. 
 
 " You are asking a hard thing of a man when 
 you ask one to guard you from himself," he said, 
 earnestly, "and I wonder sometimes if I am 
 equal to it." 
 
 She tried to draw her fingers away, but his own 
 closed over them too closely. 
 
 "No," he said, between his shut teeth, half 
 lovingly, half grimly. "No, you can't go until I 
 release you. Shall I, or shall I not? Ah! you 
 beautiful thing!"
 
 GALEED. 271 
 
 " It is not because of that," she began, and he 
 answered: 
 
 " No, it is not because of that. But a man can 
 not but see if he has eyes." After a little, his 
 clasp relaxed, and when he spoke again, it was in 
 a different tone. Each felt instinctively that his 
 change of theme and manner was a step retraced 
 from a cliff over which they had glanced, and 
 that had left them a little dizzy. 
 
 "You are going to-morrow?" he asked, and 
 she answered, "Yes, in the morning." 
 
 CHAPTER XIV. 
 
 On the northern shore of the island lies the 
 village of Northport, where the waters of the 
 Sound kiss with cool lips the wooded bits that 
 cluster so close to the pebbles. Its two streets, 
 one along the shore, and the other straight back 
 from the water, in the narrow valley between the 
 hills, are rather gay in the summer time, the 
 strays from the city wandering along the shores 
 and through the woods in search of vitality 
 absorbed through the winter by the cobble stones 
 and furnace-heat. 
 
 The post-office is the rendezvous for all those 
 aliens, and Grace was one of the habituals she 
 and the major generally belonging to the crowd 
 that loafed around the door, or on the hotel 
 porch, a few steps awa}', until the mail was sur-
 
 272 IN LOVE'S DOMAINS. 
 
 rendered by the "bus" driver, and sorted by the 
 official who has double work through the summer 
 season. 
 
 Grace, for all her vein of the romantic, had a 
 most prosaic longing for the matter-of-fact chron- 
 icles of the daily press. One of the New Yorkiest 
 of girls, she was always eager for news of lives 
 lived to the clang of the streets, and under the 
 glimmer of gas-jets. 
 
 And the major was one of the men who always 
 read the political articles first, yet never went to 
 the polls; so he and Grace were the newspaper 
 fiends of their little party, that had, since their 
 last move, dwindled down to a quartette. They 
 went for the mail together, and stumbled back 
 along the little street, sometimes reading as they 
 went. 
 
 "It's all we have to enliven us since we left 
 Fra Lippo," complained Grace, when laughed at 
 by the other ladies for her newsy appetite. 
 "Yes, it is. Mrs. Winans acknowledges she is 
 disconsolate without his charming attentions he 
 is a lonely man, Judith oh, I know you are too 
 independent ever to need anyone, or let yourself 
 miss them much. But I know if it had been me 
 he had carried in his arms, and been so anxious 
 over, I well I would do him the honor to regret 
 him, at any rate." 
 
 "I am sure I do regret him; he is a very 
 charming gentleman, a very pleasant compan- 
 ion." 
 
 " Oh, yes! but you say that so carelessly. You
 
 GALEED. 273 
 
 are lovely, Judith, but in many ways you are so 
 cool as if nothing impressed you very deeply.'' 
 
 "What would you have me?" asked Mrs. 
 Holmes, smilingly. ' ' What you call a gusher?' ' 
 
 "Just imagine Judith that, can you, Mrs. 
 Winans? No; but I know Fra Lippo was sorry 
 to have us leave; awfully sorry; and when he 
 went to leave the boat you didn't seem to notice 
 how lonesome he looked, and I thought at the 
 time that your ' Good-bye, Mr. Alison, I hope to 
 hear your Indian article will be a success,' 
 sounded to me just as you would say 'Good- 
 night, Mr. Alison, I hope to hear at breakfast 
 that you rested well.' Yes, it did; it was just as 
 careless as that." 
 
 "Oh Grace, Grace!" laughed Mrs. Winans; 
 " you are always putting your friends in need of 
 an imaginary champion that you may have a 
 chance to fill the role. I never thought of his 
 being lonesome; I was selfishly thinking of our- 
 selves; but he I'm sure he had his sweetheart 
 there for another day, and that would console 
 him." 
 
 "Would it?" asked the girl, grimly, with a 
 knowing look. "Well, if I wanted consolation 
 for anything I wouldn't hunt up Blanche Athol 
 as high priestess." 
 
 "Perhaps not," remarked Mrs. Holmes; "for 
 I don't think you are fond of each other; but you 
 see it is different with them since they are to be 
 married." 
 
 "Are they?" queried the girl, in that same 
 is
 
 274 IN LOVE'S DOMAINS. 
 
 ambiguous way. "Well, Blanche can be awfully 
 swell if she wants to, and awfully * taking ' with 
 men. But she seemed to have left all sweetness 
 somewhere else this trip. She was just as aggra- 
 vating as she could be to Nellie, and to Fra 
 Lippo, too. I would like to have seen him lose 
 his temper and box her ears the day we went 
 yachting." 
 
 " If he had, you would have missed a piece of 
 wedding-cake," smiled Mrs. Winans. "Think 
 of that!" 
 
 "I wouldn't care; I'd have gone without wed- 
 ding-cake for the rest of my natural life." 
 
 "That's a sweeping statement!" said Mrs. 
 Holmes. " What about your own? Would you 
 forego that for the sake of seeing Miss Athol's 
 ears boxed?' ' 
 
 " Oh, Grace is a little schemer," said the major, 
 slyly. "Don't you see the method in the mad 
 desire? Boxed ears mean broken engagement- 
 free Fra Lippo sympathizing little girl who 
 catches a heart in the rebound and then well, a 
 prospect of wedding-cake galore, and a musical - 
 literary partnership. How is that for a plot, eh?" 
 
 Grace only put out her lips at him and looked 
 her scorn. 
 
 "I think he was wonderfully patient with her, 
 anyway," she persisted. 
 
 " He understands, perhaps, that betrothal is a 
 sort of novitiate course," said Mrs. Winans. 
 " Husbands require much patience." 
 
 "Well, I'm sure yours doesn't," contested
 
 GALEED. 275 
 
 Grace, whose best arguments had always personal 
 application. 
 
 "Oh ho! don't I, though?" queried the major, 
 lugubriously, behind his paper. "Listen to the 
 innocent." 
 
 " The strain on your patience has no bad effect 
 on your avoirdupois, at all events," retorted the 
 girl, and after a little, apropos of nothing "I 
 think someone else is ahead of me in my scheme 
 for that dissolution, from things little Howard 
 was observing enough to note." 
 
 One of her listeners grew hot and cold in an 
 instant at that significant speech. What did it 
 mean? Had she been so blind as to show even to 
 children the miseries she had thought so well 
 hidden? 
 
 "What do you mean?" she asked, squarely, 
 forgetting to be guarded, forgetting all in her 
 desire to know just what that statement meant. 
 
 " I mean Dick Haverly," said Grace, slowly 
 and impressively. "Oh, it's earnest; he and 
 Blanche flirted until Nellie and Mr. Julian were 
 furious over it. So Nellie took Blanche away 
 from Ocean Grove until they heard Dick had 
 gone, and then Howard said they were going 
 back." 
 
 "Rather risky authority, let us hope," re- 
 marked Mrs. Holmes. "From what I saw of 
 little Howard he would not be a fair judge where 
 Miss Athol was concerned, as they were always at 
 swords' points." 
 
 "Yes, and I rather think Miss Athol has just
 
 276 IN LOVE'S DOMAINS. 
 
 enough perversity to tease her sister by a flirta- 
 tion, even if it was not a particularly interesting 
 one in other respects," said Mrs. Winans. 
 
 "Not a comfortable trait in a man's wife," 
 added the major. "She is a dashy, sharp little 
 thing, and I suppose Alison knows what he wants, 
 but his friends had better say prayers for the rest 
 of his soul on his wedding day." 
 
 And thus she had to hear him discussed day 
 after day, and give no sign of the pain that 
 choked her sometimes, of the longing that drew 
 all her thoughts back to the old town on the bay, 
 where they had walked together over the same 
 pebbly shores, where every nook in the bends 
 of the harbor was recorded, not by shape or 
 shadow, but by some little word that was sug- 
 gestive, by a quick glance of sympathy, or the 
 eager reaching of a hand to help her. Ah, the 
 sweetness and the misery of it all! 
 
 She did not hear from him. Each knew at the 
 last when it came to their parting that it must 
 be absolute, that there could never again be any 
 pretense of platonic friendship between them. 
 The struggle it had been to separate at all told 
 them that. 
 
 With the conflicting emotions of woman, she 
 honored him for his truth though so late to his 
 engagement and that girl. At the same time 
 all her heart was filled with hot, rebellious 
 blood at the thought that he had, no doubt, 
 gone with her back into the whirl of summer 
 pleasures.
 
 GALEED. 277 
 
 She tortured herself with a wonder as to what 
 his thoughts were of this wife of another man 
 the wife who had given her kisses to him and 
 who had helped him to be faithless. Could he 
 see more clearly the vileness in her now that she 
 could not act to him sweet lies? Did he turn 
 gratefully to the frank creature who was to be his 
 wife, and in the companionship that was right 
 did he try to forget a mad dream that had led them 
 to the feet of guilt? 
 
 She could close her eyes and seem to hear the 
 tensity in his tones as he said, "Darling!" to 
 feel the loving tenderness with which he drew his 
 wife close and kissed her fondly kisses tender 
 and sweet, no doubt, and unmoved by that half 
 blindness of passion that had tinged his kisses to 
 herself. Yes, she could see it all, and the sight 
 sickened her. 
 
 What need to imagine a Heaven or Hell when 
 God gave to humanity Love? It has in it the 
 heights and the depths of each. 
 
 CHAPTER XV. 
 
 Ask me no more; thy fate and mine are sealed, 
 I strove against the stream, and all in vain, 
 Let the great river take me to the main. 
 
 TENNYSON. 
 
 The evening mail was just in, and Grace, who 
 had got ahead of the major, carried to the cottage, 
 down by the shore road, the budget of letters and 
 papers. And impulsive as her manner usually
 
 278 IN LOVE'S DOMAINS. 
 
 was, they were yet unprepared for her entrance 
 that warm summer evening. 
 
 "Dear me, Grace," called Mrs. Winans, before 
 the girl got to the gate, "don't run like that this 
 warm evening. It is really exhausting to watch 
 you." 
 
 "Guess what's happened!" she panted, drop- 
 ping into a chair and holding an open letter in 
 her hand. "Don't ever say I am not a prophet, 
 guess guess!" 
 
 "Stop it!" grumbled the major. "Give me 
 my papers, and then prophesy to your heart's 
 content." 
 
 " There they are you newspaper gormand," 
 she said, throwing him the packages, "but I'll 
 wager none of you read much when I tell you the 
 news." 
 
 "Well, well, tell it and ease your mind!" 
 advised the old lady, smilingly. What great 
 event has happened? Have you a step-mamma? 
 or is Tom married?" 
 
 "No, but some one else is, just as I said they 
 would be Blanche Athol." 
 
 "Blanche Athol!" echoed Mrs. Winans, and 
 the major really did drop his paper at the news 
 with an emphatic "By George." But the other 
 woman standing in the doorway only leaned 
 heavily on the oars she held, and shut her eyes 
 with a bitter little smile at the thought of his 
 haste. Could he not have waited, at least until 
 she had time to get away from the people who 
 knew them both?
 
 GALEED. 279 
 
 " No wonder you ran," she said, trying to speak 
 carelessly, "a wedding is always a thing of 
 interest, especially to one's friends; send to them 
 for your piece of wedding-cake, my dear. I am 
 going for a little exercise good-bye." 
 
 And settling the oars on her shoulder, she 
 walked down the steps and into the little boat 
 awaiting her at the landing, at the edge of the 
 garden. 
 
 " Did you ever see anyone quite like Judith?" 
 said Grace, complainingly. "I wonder what 
 news one could ever bring her that would interest 
 her? Why, she don't seem to care at all, and 
 such good friends as she and Fra Lippo were! 
 Well, I'd think she would care a little on his 
 account." 
 
 "Did she write you? How did you hear?" 
 
 "No, indeed, the letter is from Tom, just a 
 few lines. But it all turned out just as I 
 expected," she reiterated, triumphantly. 
 
 ' ' Very likely, ' ' remarked Mrs. Winans. ' ' But, 
 so far, you have not given us a particle of infor- 
 mation, except one bare statement; now what were 
 your expectations? or what news does Tom send? 
 Since you have begun, please tell us all about it." 
 
 And Grace, plunging into her discourse, forgot 
 the exit of Mrs. Holmes, and chatting on until 
 after sundown they scarcely noticed that she was 
 staying out a good while. It was nothing unusual 
 for her, however, to stay out on the water, until 
 after dark, if she felt like it. They were used to 
 missing her in the evenings.
 
 280 IN LOVE'S DOMAINS. 
 
 But the three on the porch, chatting in the 
 gloaming, stopped suddenly as a form coming up 
 the village street neared their gate. 
 
 " It is surely, it is Fra Lippo," said Grace, in 
 a half whisper. 
 
 "That's who it is," said the major, rising and 
 laying down his paper. 
 
 "Don't let us say anything about Tom's letter 
 unless he speaks," suggested Grace, and Mrs. 
 Winans nodded assent. 
 
 The next instant the major was shaking hands 
 with Alison, and Mrs. Winans and Grace were 
 bidding him welcome. 
 
 "Why did you not write us you were coming?" 
 asked Grace; "we would have met you at the 
 depot." 
 
 "I drove across the country from Bay Shore," 
 he answered, "and did not know I was coming in 
 time to write you. I am staying at the hotel here, 
 but go on to New York in the morning." 
 
 No one mentioned the marriage to him, and 
 Grace, in her romantic fashion, wondered how he 
 could possibly be so cool and collected, and talk 
 of everything except the one subject that must be 
 uppermost in his mind. 
 
 After a little, he asked for Mrs. Holmes. Was 
 she still with them? Was her ankle quite recov- 
 ered? He wanted to see her before starting for 
 New York, as he was to interview a publisher in 
 regard to illustrations she was to make. He was 
 to leave early in the morning and wanted to see 
 her to-night.
 
 GALEED. 281 
 
 " Then I guess you will have to take a boat and 
 go after her," said the major. " Little captain is 
 such a water-rat that she'll stay out for hours, if 
 she feels in the humor." 
 
 "Which direction did she go?" he asked, ris- 
 ing to his feet. "It is still light enough to see 
 quite a distance on water, I may find her." 
 
 "She went down that way, out toward the 
 Sound," said Grace; "for if she had gone up I 
 should have seen her from the porch. Come, I'll 
 go to the boat-house with you." 
 
 A boat was soon secured. Grace looked at him, 
 intending, in thoughtless fashion, to go with him 
 to look for Judith, but something strange in his 
 face made her step back. 
 
 "Really, he didn't seem to know I was 
 there," she thought, in amazement, for he had 
 always been so kind, so considerate of her. But 
 she gave him a smiling good-bye and walked 
 slowly up the steps to the house, wondering if, 
 after all, Fra Lippo was not troubled more than 
 she had thought at first. 
 
 A weird, steely light lay over the water, and 
 the bits of coast in the gloaming were merely 
 clear-cut, black outlines that looked like an 
 exquisite etching, with, across the still water, just 
 one pale path of rose, thrown as a last tribute 
 from the vanished sun. The air was warm and 
 still, not a movement to break the sweet peace of 
 the evening, and away down around the bend of 
 the shore, where the cliff rises up, could be seen 
 one boat drifting idly out from shore.
 
 282 IN LOVE'S DOMAINS. 
 
 Once in a while the occupant would give the 
 oar a few dips and right the little craft, sending 
 it in toward the beach. It did not matter much 
 where she drifted, she thought, in a numb sort of 
 way. A something heavy and dead seemed set- 
 tling over her life, just as the gray cloak of night 
 was blotting all the sweetness and warm colors of 
 the day. 
 
 She had known it would come, of course, this 
 news Grace had brought, and which she could 
 not stay to hear discussed. But that it should be 
 so soon had not occurred to her. 
 
 " Could he not wait until the echo of his whis- 
 pers to me were deadf ' she asked herself, bitterly, 
 and then, with a burst of shivering, sobbing 
 misery: "But they never will be! never! all the 
 days! all the nights! oh God!" 
 
 An oar slipped out of place and drifted away 
 slowly. The boat, unguarded, moved further and 
 further from the beach. And huddled down there 
 in a heap, with her head resting on the seat, lay 
 the little captain blind, deaf to all but those 
 echoes of the past, that were struggling, fighting 
 for possession of her heart. 
 
 A very weak heart, the "uncoguid" may think. 
 A wicked heart to cling so to memories that were 
 guilty. Yes, it was all that. It was very human. 
 
 That other boat, moving closer over the still 
 waters, gave no warning to her ears, and Alison, 
 seeing the drifting boat and the huddled form, 
 thought she had fallen asleep there in the warmth 
 and rest of the falling night.
 
 GALEED. 283 
 
 Silently, silently, lie moved toward her that she 
 might not waken; so close now that he could see 
 the curved, white neck on which the hair rested; 
 one more silent, sure dip of the oar and the boats 
 almost touch. That movement of the waters 
 aroused her, she supposed she had drifted into 
 some of the set nets of the fishermen, and raising 
 her eyes in a questioning way, met those of Ali- 
 son's, shining with a great gladness. 
 
 "Judith!" and he reached out his hand, and 
 even in that gesture showing his want of her. 
 
 But she only stared at him scarcely a light of 
 recognition in her eyes they had been so dim 
 with tears, now they were dazed as if by a doubt 
 of his actuality. Everything on the stretch of 
 water had a weird, steely glint over the grayness. 
 In the dusk only his eyes looked warm and alive. 
 Was he only a creation of a longing imagination? 
 
 "Judith!" 
 
 Ah, how could she mistake that tenderness for 
 anything but his own voice? It was he. Yes, 
 but 
 
 "You should not have come," she said, in 
 a deprecating way, trying to force back her 
 own thankfulness. "You must not come again, 
 ever." 
 
 " Must I not?" and she felt herself jarred on by 
 that lightness of voice, that utter joyousness of 
 manner. Where was the realization of this sick- 
 ening change that had parted them? Could this 
 be the man whose delicacy of feeling had first 
 touched her through his work? And he could
 
 284 IN LOVE'S DOMAINS. 
 
 come from the kisses of his bride to her! and 
 come like that! She closed her eyes with a great 
 wave of shame flushing her cheeks, though she 
 could not have told whether it was for him or for 
 herself. 
 
 He looked at her, smiling at her still, with that 
 manner she could not understand. He could see 
 the traces of tears in the eyes that had grown 
 hollow and tired-looking in the three weeks since 
 he had seen her. 
 
 "My friend," and he clasped her hand tenderly, 
 "these days have not been bright ones to you 
 either, have they?" 
 
 She shook her head. It did not seem easy to 
 speak, she was too much afraid she would cry 
 again, and the sobs were still trembling in her 
 throat, making her voice uncertain. 
 
 " I know it," he said, dropping his face against 
 her hand. "Do you imagine there was an hour 
 that I did not think of your loneliness, your good- 
 ness in helping me to do what we thought was 
 right? And lam glad of it now, dear so glad; 
 because now you will not torture yourself with 
 regrets on my account, as I know you would have 
 done." 
 
 Then, for the first time, she shook off the silence 
 which his strange manner had given her. 
 
 "Have you no soul that tells you what you are 
 doing when you come to me and speak to me like 
 this now<" she asked, as steadily as she could. 
 
 He looked at her in a puzzled way. 
 
 "Why not now, if ever?" he returned, doubt-
 
 GALEED. 285 
 
 fully, " unless unless it is because of your own 
 bonds. I will do nothing, say nothing to influ- 
 ence you against them at any time, if you care to 
 regard them. Only, after what has been, how 
 could I help coming first to you? And I thought 
 she my dear, I felt so sure you would be 
 glad." 
 
 She laughed in a shivering way at that. 
 
 "Yes," she said, ironically, "I wonder that 
 you did not bring your wife out here to share 
 your gladness. Did you leave her with Grace 
 and Mrs. Winans? If so, we we had better go 
 back." 
 
 In a moment he had drawn her close in his arms 
 with a happy laugh. 
 
 "Ah! Judith, Judith!" he cried, joyously. 
 "What is it you have been thinking of? My 
 wife! she is in my arms. Can you not understand 
 that? Yes, even though you send me away; even if 
 I never see you again, you are my wife, the only 
 one I shall ever have; dear, don't you know? 
 don't you know?" 
 
 She threw back her head out of the reach of his 
 lips. 
 
 "But, Miss Athol; they said " 
 
 " Miss Athol is Miss Athol no more," he smiled; 
 " she has been for forty-eight hours Mrs. Haverly. 
 Now Judith, you rebel, where are your congratu- 
 lations?" 
 
 Their unheeded boats were idly drifting side by 
 side, linked close by the arms of those two people. 
 After that war of protest against him, against her-
 
 286 IN LOVE'S DOMAINS. 
 
 self, she turned her face downward on his arm 
 and lay there passively, as if she had been wait- 
 ing for that shelter, that rest. There were no 
 words of explanation. What did it matter now 
 of that other, or how she had fallen so readily 
 into the idea that it was Alison's marriage Grace 
 spoke of? That was all of the past, and their 
 present had brought them to each other that was 
 enough. 
 
 " And you really came first to me for my con- 
 gratulations?" she said, with her face still turned 
 against his sleeve, and a note of gladness, falter- 
 ing through her tones, instead of the sobs. " You 
 really came first to see me?" 
 
 "Really, and really," he smiled, in answer; 
 "and you are glad with me, are you not? I 
 heard it last night, but was not certain enough to 
 come to you. Put your arm up here so, while 
 I tell you how long the night seemed." 
 
 "Did you want to come to me so much?" 
 Another weakness of the heart human, to cease its 
 beats that it may hear ever} T intonation in the 
 voice of love. " And did the night seem long?" 
 
 "Did it? I can not find words to tell you of it 
 now. I am too content only to be here. But do 
 you remember the evening when we heard the 
 first whip-poor-will of the season? That dream 
 of a night! and how happy we were in our resolu- 
 tions to be earnest, helpful friends; and how 
 bright the moon was, and how sweet those roses 
 smelt? You were only Psyche to me that night, 
 a thing of soul. And in the midst of the sweetest
 
 GALEED. 287 
 
 of silences we heard the call of that wood-bird. 
 Do you remember?" 
 
 4 'How could I forget?" 
 
 "Well, last night, while wakeful, I heard the 
 call of the whip-poor-will again, so clearly, so 
 closely, it brought back to me that night when 
 you were with me. I remembered you told me 
 there was some superstition about the bird's call, 
 though you would not say what it was, and last 
 night I lay there wondering about it, fancying it 
 must be some lover's legend that you feared to tell 
 me, lest the subject drift us into channels we had 
 agreed to avoid. And so, with vague fancies of 
 the night-bird, and sweeter ones of you, I lay 
 wakeful, waiting for morning, and hoping I could 
 come to you." 
 
 All barriers of the spirit melted away as she 
 heard the familiar voice, bringing back to her 
 some of the poems of feeling they had lived 
 through. 
 
 She raised her head, looking over his shoulder, 
 toward the north, where the last remaining lights 
 were centered in bars of bluish steel. The water 
 had slowly darkened, and only a few stars shone 
 through the warm night. 
 
 " We must go back," she said. 
 
 "Yes, we must go back;" but their fingers 
 closed over each other a little tighter as they 
 spoke, and then for the first time she missed the 
 oar. 
 
 " Never mind, I will get you one instead in the 
 morning," he said, peering into the shadows,
 
 288 IN LOVE'S DOMAINS. 
 
 but not seeing it. "We can not look for it now, 
 we can not afford to lose the time." And there 
 was just light enough left to see the smile and the 
 love in each other's eyes. 
 
 "Come, get into my boat," he suggested; " we 
 can tie yours to the stern." 
 
 But for some perverse whim she refused. 
 
 "No, tie them together at the row-locks, just 
 as they are," she answered, "and then each can 
 row his own boat." 
 
 He protested against such an innovation in 
 seamanship, but taking a ribbon from her hair 
 she, with his aid, fastened them tightly together. 
 
 " That is much better," she said, complacently. 
 "Now see how evenly we can pull on with this 
 arrangement." 
 
 " It is abominable," he grumbled; "I shall not 
 be able to see your face." 
 
 "You know I am close beside you, anyway." 
 
 " Yes, for this one evening." 
 
 "I am grateful for even that," she said, softly. 
 "I have been torturing myself so with the 
 thought of my own faults, and the certainty that 
 you would see them so much plainer when we 
 were parted. And then, I could fancy you class- 
 ing me among women who ah, my friend, words 
 seem weak affairs. But the thought that I am 
 wrong, that you so gladly came to me at once 
 well, only a woman who has been what I have been 
 can know what content you have brought me." 
 
 He leaned over, clasping her arm with his dis- 
 engaged hand.
 
 GALEED. 289 
 
 " Those doubts of my earnestness must never 
 come to you again; they are unjust." 
 
 "I believe you just now," she said, honestly; 
 " but I am never sure how long I could continue 
 to do so." 
 
 Their boats, tied so close, moved on over the 
 dark waters, propelled by an oar in the hand of 
 each. It was slow locomotion, but the night was 
 one neither of them was in haste to leave behind. 
 
 "Where does that light in the water come 
 from?" she asked, curiously. "There is none 
 left in the sky." 
 
 Every dip of the oar brought a flash of faint, 
 white fire against the blade, and sent little coils 
 of light drifting astern. 
 
 " It is phosphorescent light, ' ' he answered. ' ' It 
 is on these still, warm nights that it shows bright- 
 est. Have you never seen it here?" 
 
 "I have never been along here so late before. 
 Ah, look! there a great ball of fire went past. 
 How lovely, and how how weird it makes all 
 this darkness seem." 
 
 "That fire that passed was a fish," he said, 
 smiling at her enthusiasm, as her oar was for- 
 gotten, and her hand thrust down again, and 
 again, to see the tiny sparks glimmer back from 
 her fingers. " In the shadow of that cliff ahead, 
 it will show brightly, no doubt. It always does 
 in the deepest darkness." 
 
 "Come, then, let us hurry," she said, picking 
 up the oar eagerly. "Oh, this beautiful night you 
 have brought me!" 
 
 19
 
 290 IN LOVE'S DOMAINS. 
 
 " You have not repaid me well for it then," he 
 answered, quietly, "since you acknowledge how 
 little your faith in me is." 
 
 "Ah, bless you!" she burst out, with just a 
 ring of her mother's race sounding through the 
 caress of her tones. "Don't think that it is not 
 you it is myself that am lacking. My doubt as 
 to whether a woman like me could keep the 
 regard of a man who knew her as you have 
 known 
 
 " Why will you persist in speaking of yourself 
 like that?" he demanded. " Woman like you! One 
 would think, the way you say that, that you were 
 the most guilty of women. What crimes have you 
 committed?' ' 
 
 "I should be judged as guilty, socially," and 
 he could see in the dimness that her head bent 
 lower; " that is, if the world knew as as you 
 know 
 
 "As I know!" he said, repeating again her 
 words. "I know nothing but that you have been 
 very unhappy, and now are very unfortunate in 
 caring for a man you can't trust." 
 
 The words sounded a little bitter, he felt so. 
 Inwardly he was scarcely able to trust himself. 
 But just then it seemed a little hard to have some 
 one else look over his shoulder into the mirror of 
 his conscience. 
 
 "I do not doubt your desire or your intention 
 always to think highly of me," she answered, in 
 a debating way. " You will if you can. I believe 
 that. But I can not see how you can help chang-
 
 GALEED. 291 
 
 ing your thoughts of me from what they used to 
 be. I have dreaded that you would, and know 
 that if you do, it will be just as it was when we 
 cared for each other it would be because you 
 could not help it." 
 
 "Ah, you woman! you woman!" he breathed, 
 half chidingly. "Why will you torture yourself 
 with visionary fancies of what may be, when the 
 beauty of what is lies so close to us?" 
 
 " I do not know; perhaps it is simply because 
 I am a woman that those fears magnify them- 
 selves so, and have been real enough to make me 
 heartsick sometimes." 
 
 "Because you are sorry?" 
 
 "Oh, I don't know; how can I define it? To 
 say that I am sorry would mean to wish that we 
 had never cared for each other and I oh, how 
 can I ever say that? I never shall, you know I 
 never shall!" 
 
 Her hands let the oar go and covered her face 
 as if to hide from him, from even the darkness, 
 the complexity of emotions that prompted that 
 outcry. He reached across her and drew the oar 
 into his own boat, sending a shower of silver 
 flashing across the night as he did so. They were 
 close to the beach in the shadow of the cliff 
 above them, about them, all darkness. Below 
 them, millions of sparks floating upward. He 
 could see her bent figure and lowered face, 
 and a deep, broken breath told him she was 
 crying. 
 
 A moment he sat silent, looking at her moodily,
 
 292 IN LOVE'S DOMAINS. 
 
 and the next instant he had drawn the yielding, 
 shivering form into his embrace. 
 
 Was there any word spoken, anything but that 
 determined air of possession? Neither heard it 
 if there were? Her sobs grew still, silenced by a 
 mute depth of storm beside which her tears were 
 as summer showers. 
 
 "And yet you send me from you," he whis- 
 pered, after a silence fraught with more expression 
 than any words could convey. "You, knowing 
 all, knowing me, knowing yourself ah, how can 
 you!" 
 
 She loosened his arms, drawing away from the 
 reach of his hands. 
 
 " It is because I do know you," she said, hur- 
 riedly, passionately; " and do know myself that 
 I know this dream of happiness would prove a 
 lie. Ah, I can see! the regret, the shame, and 
 perhaps the avoidance of me! That would kill 
 me, I think." 
 
 She was huddled down in the boat much as 
 when he had found her and thought her sleeping. 
 Her words and the despair in her voice filled him 
 with a sweeping desire to give all his life, all his 
 devotion to the disproving of that picture. 
 
 "You see," she went on, brokenly, "I know 
 that no matter what evil a man's own life may 
 have seen and known, I know how high an opinion 
 he always has of a woman he thinks good." 
 
 "And that is why I shall always have so high 
 an opinion of you," he answered, earnestly. 
 "Because I know you know you so well."
 
 6ALEED. 293 
 
 His hand that was resting on her shoulder 
 slipped about the woman's throat, thrilling with 
 that magnetism of touch, and drawing her face 
 toward him. 
 
 "Dear," he whispered, "why are you so true 
 to everything but yourself and me?" 
 
 CHAPTER XVI. 
 
 "Mail for Judith?" asked Mrs. Winans; " well, 
 do it up in a parcel. She said we were to forward 
 it all together to that publishing place in New 
 York. Can you remember the address, major?" 
 
 " Yes; got it here in a note-book." 
 
 "It does seem such a contradiction of one's 
 ideas of the fitness of things," said his wife, com- 
 plainingly, evidently carrying out aloud some 
 unexpressed thoughts a habit about which Grace 
 and the major teased her often. And now he 
 looked at her quizzically over his glasses. 
 
 "As your statement stands, it does not carry 
 much idea of your subject to your audience," 
 he remarked, dryly. "What are you talking 
 about?" 
 
 " Why I told you of Judith," said his wife, 
 a little impatient at his density. "It does seem 
 too bad that a woman of her tastes and her 
 charming character a woman who would grace a 
 domestic home life should live as she does the
 
 294 IN LOVE'S DOMAINS. 
 
 greater part of the year, her nearest thing to a 
 permanent address being a business firm." 
 
 "It is time she wrote us," said Grace, looking 
 up from the little package of letters and papers. 
 " It is three weeks since she left, and only one ] i t- 
 tle note to say she was to leave New York and go 
 South to do sketches and write up some special 
 localities this coining winter. The South that' s 
 definite!" 
 
 "Oh don't growl already," advised the major; 
 " Judith has little time for gossipy letters such as 
 most women expect. Last winter we heard from 
 her very seldom; but she generally makes it up 
 by spending a little of the summer where we are." 
 
 1 'Yes, and what a lovely time we had Fra 
 Lippo, and Judith, and all of us! Oh, dear, how 
 I have missed him." 
 
 "He's much more a will-o'-the-wisp than 
 Judith," said Mrs. Winans; "that is, I suppose 
 so from Miss Athol's statement." 
 
 "I don't wonder he was where she was con- 
 cerned," said Grace, spitefully; "I never will 
 forgive her for acting so shabbily to him never!" 
 
 "Don't distress yourself on his account," 
 advised the major; "I don't think he was very 
 hard hit." 
 
 "Now, don't be so sure of that," nodded 
 Grace, with an air of profound knowledge. "I 
 thought so, too, until that evening when he came 
 here. And when I went down for the boat with 
 him he looked well, I just made up my mind he 
 was all broke up; and when he bade us good-bye
 
 GALEED. 295 
 
 the next morning, and said lie didn't quite know 
 whether he would put in the fall at the poles or in 
 the tropics, well, I was sure of it then." 
 
 "Of course you were, you young romancer," 
 laughed Mrs. Winans; " you will insist that your 
 Fra Lippo is a victim of misplaced affection, just 
 to keep him from being prosaic and common- 
 place." 
 
 " He never could be that" said Grace, loyal to 
 her original impressions. " If he had been com- 
 monplace he never would have been Fra Lippo." 
 
 And the decision of her ideas were emphasized 
 by the vim with which she slapped paper-covered 
 novels into the box she was packing. 
 
 The season was almost over. A little later and 
 the last stray from the cobble-stones would have 
 drifted away from the green things of the woods, 
 and the whisper of the creeping waters. The 
 pink shells again murmur to each other their own 
 tale of the ocean depths, and do not have their 
 voices drowned by the harsh, hollow laughter of 
 those ruthless giants of the summer months. 
 
 And when the day's light fades, and the sea- 
 stars sparkle up from the shadows, only the alder 
 and the sweet bay bend to watch them, and the 
 flash of white fire lights no longer tragedies of 
 soul.
 
 296 IN LOVE'S DOMAINS. 
 
 CHAPTER XVII. 
 
 What I do 
 
 And -what I dream, include thee, as the wine 
 Must taste of its own grapes. 
 
 BROWNING. 
 
 Ever drifting, drifting, drifting, 
 
 On the shifting 
 Currents of the restless heart. 
 
 LONGFELLOW. 
 
 Do you know a lovely old town of South Caro- 
 lina that lies near to the piney woods of the Pee- 
 dee? A quaint, quiet place, that lived its life 
 before the innovation of railroads, and that echoes 
 now through shady avenues its memories of Corn- 
 wallis and the Revolution; where the tiny ferns 
 grow thick over the graves of the English dead, 
 and the wide streets in their sheet of white sand 
 give you glimpses as of new fallen snow. A 
 place to rest; a place that the world goes by, not 
 knowing. And in its repose began the new life of 
 those two who had turned away from the world 
 and its opinion ignoring its social laws recog- 
 nizing only their duty to each other, and not 
 fearing the judgment of God on their lives. Why 
 should they? Did He not know? So they thought, 
 thus they told each other through the happy days 
 of the late autumn, an autumn that lasts there 
 until the violets come. And so between the sea-
 
 GALEED. 297 
 
 sons they crowd winter, with his snow wreaths, 
 back into the North. 
 
 Ah! the work that was done through those 
 helpful days! all the ambitions that had drifted 
 in the minds of each for so long, were now made 
 tangible, and possible, through their completed 
 lives. 
 
 " God is good that he sends thoughts and work 
 that helps people to be philosophical," she said to 
 him, one day, after watching him as he wrote in 
 their sunny little hou^e close to the piney woods. 
 
 He looked up from the scribbled page, smiling 
 across at her. 
 
 " Come here," he said, a command that was 
 quickly obeyed, and, slipping his arm around her 
 waist, he drew her down until she sat facing him 
 on the arm of his chair. 
 
 " Now, what is it?" he asked, curiously. " What 
 has given you a thankfulness for philosophy? Do 
 you need it so much? Do you find life such a 
 burthen?" 
 
 " You know," she said, earnestly, and drew 
 his head close against her breast. 
 
 " Don't do that; I can't see you," he protested. 
 
 " You did not use to object," she said, quietly, 
 but with a strange light for one moment in her 
 eyes. 
 
 He looked at her, and, taking her hands, placed 
 them once more about his throat. 
 
 " You must not think or speak like that, dear," 
 he said, gently; " it is wrong. Come, tell me what 
 prompted that speech of philosophy."
 
 298 IN LOVE'S DOMAINS. 
 
 " I was thinking of you," she answered, look- 
 ing past him at the yellow shimmer of November 
 leaves seen through the window. 
 
 "Well?" 
 
 " Of how hard this isolation would be for you if 
 you had not work that was creative if you were 
 not given the faculty for living in the lives of your 
 ideals, and escaping much that would he hard for 
 another man." 
 
 " You think it isolation?" 
 
 "I? no, no, not for me," she said, hurriedly, 
 her hands again gaining their caressive tendencies; 
 "but for you, who have been used to an active 
 life a life in the world, of the world very much 
 of the world," she added, with a touch of banter 
 in her air. 
 
 "Yes, sadly of the world," he acknowledged. 
 "But you have been teaching me repentance for 
 many wild wanderings." 
 
 "Are you sure you are content?" she asked, 
 with a loving woman' s persistence, the sort of per- 
 sistence that is more likely to drift a man out of 
 content than into it. If women would but think 
 of that! 
 
 "Do I not look it?" and he smiled up at her 
 happily. 
 
 "Yes, you do. You always seem so; but ah! 
 my dear, I am so afraid so afraid!" 
 
 It was the one little rift in the lute; would it 
 ever still the music to which their lives were 
 lived? He wondered that, sometimes, and could 
 only hope that those fears would vanish as their
 
 GALEED. 299 
 
 future became their past and she learned how 
 much she was to his life. 
 
 Words were useless to her. With her woman's 
 love she had no thought of having made any sac- 
 rifice in giving up the world's approval of her 
 life; the world's opinion was as nothing to her 
 compared with his. But the thought to be com- 
 bated, the thought of dread was Would the 
 time ever come when the world's influence would 
 force him to look at her with the world's 
 eyes? 
 
 " Our lives are our own to spend as we choose," 
 so they had determined, feeling that God, who 
 knew, would not judge harshly. They would 
 live away from the world and its pettiness of 
 opinions. They would live useful, good lives. 
 Ah! the dreams of philanthropy they were to put 
 into execution when their work made their 
 plans practicable. So they had thought and 
 dreamed, and said over and over: " If we live true 
 to our ideals and each other, how can regret ever 
 come?" 
 
 Regret had not. But a super-sensitiveness had 
 been given by Fate in exchange for the coin of 
 their lives; and sometimes the fancies born of it 
 would leave her filled with vague fears, and the 
 knowledge that love could bear terrible revelations 
 to the soul. 
 
 She was working as closely at her art work as 
 he was at his writing in those days. 
 
 " I believe I will eventually paint," she said to 
 him one day, when a landscape sketch in oil was
 
 300 IN LOVE'S DOMAINS. 
 
 set up on the high mantel for their criticism, and 
 to dry. 
 
 "You do paint, and paint well," he said, 
 decidedly. 
 
 "Oh, I know I do creditable work," she 
 returned; "but I have done little. Black and 
 white has contented me until of late; but now 
 I think you are making me ambitious in so much. 
 I have felt lately my own possibilities for work 
 in color as I never did before, only" and she 
 laughed a little, " I fear I shall have trouble with 
 heads the heads of men." 
 
 He looked at her questioningly. 
 
 "Because?" 
 
 "Because they are all sure to look at me with 
 your eyes. Yes, they are; I tried to do an ideal 
 head yesterday, and against my intentions the 
 mouth smiled at me, just as just as you are 
 doing now. 
 
 "Now?" he asked, kissing her. But after a 
 little she continued, reflectively: 
 
 "I seem to do no work in which there is not 
 something of you, some little bit of your face or 
 personality." And then she looked at him and 
 laughed. But there was little sound of merriment 
 in it as she said: 
 
 "In the future, when you are a respectable 
 member of society, how will you like to be con- 
 fronted by vague portraits of yourself gazing at 
 you from second-rate canvases?" 
 
 "Hush!" 
 
 "And saying over to you the nonsense we 
 talked as they were painted?"
 
 GALEED. 301 
 
 " It is not nonsense. In your heart you know 
 it is not," he said, clasping her close and lifting 
 her face upward. ' ' How can you hurt yourself 
 and me by speaking so? My own mine!" 
 
 11 How long would you care to claim me?" 
 
 "Well about fifty years." 
 
 " You think that?" * 
 
 "I think that I think it," he said, teasingly, 
 unwilling to encourage her in those touches of 
 morbidness he had helped her to. But she gave 
 him no smile in answer, only drew back from him 
 a little. 
 
 "That sounds like 'I believe help thou my 
 unbelief,' " she said, and dropped down hopelessly 
 on a chair beside him. 
 
 He leaned over her, and with all loving words 
 and an aching heart tried to find words that would 
 give her assurance of her sad injustice. 
 
 Thus so often a word carelessly spoken would 
 evolve fancies and fears that all earnestness of 
 devotion could not quite quell in her mind. 
 
 It was not regret no, only retribution from the 
 thing that they had ignored the world. 
 
 The influence of its millions of souls can not 
 be set aside by the atoms; subtly, unconsciously, 
 they will be permeated by the sunshine, or set 
 aside in the gloom by its silent force.
 
 302 IN LOVE'S DOMAINS. 
 
 CHAPTER XYIH. 
 
 " Whence earnest thou?" 
 " From the nether hell." 
 " What is thy name?" 
 "Despair." 
 
 She grew little by little to be imbued with the 
 idea that he was so much more necessary to her 
 than she was to him perhaps because she had 
 heard so much of those past days he had lived 
 before he knew her. Once or twice she found 
 herself watching him curiously, and wondering if 
 the time would ever come when she would be 
 counted but as one of the beads in his rosary of 
 loves. 
 
 She would be ashamed of such thoughts, and 
 repentingly promised herself never to harbor them 
 in her heart again. But her own humility of soul 
 made her see that now she would be deemed 
 unworthy by all but him, and perhaps 
 
 And so the winter crept on, and brought with it 
 a new fear one over which she wept in a misery 
 of anguish and despair through many a night 
 one neither of them could ignore. In their love 
 they had thought only of each other. What did 
 it matter that there could be no marriage ceremony 
 when each felt the force of their mutual truth? 
 That had been the one, the only idea of consider- 
 ation.
 
 GALEED. 
 
 Lately she had feared he might some day look 
 on her with the cleared vision of the world in his 
 eyes. But now there had come to her something 
 so much more terrible. The madness of prophecy 
 that whispered of how their children would look 
 on her in the days to come. 
 
 "Ah! God! if it were only right!" he breathed, 
 clasping her hidden face close to him, and feeling 
 her hot tears on his hand. 
 
 It was the first acknowledgment he had ever 
 made of any evil in their lives together. 
 
 "I think I have lost all power of judging 
 between right and wrong," she whispered. "I 
 know now what it is to be a wicked, wicked 
 woman, and it is terrible." 
 
 He got up, walking to and fro in the little 
 room where they had been so happy for so many 
 weeks; where all their happiness stolen from the 
 world had been knit by fate into lashes of remorse. 
 
 "I feel that I want to lie down at your feet 
 to-night, and die there," he said, slowly, his eyes 
 full of misery at the sight of her despair. 
 
 " Through regret?" she asked, raising her head. 
 
 He nodded, but did not speak. All the loves 
 of the past with their flushes of earth seemed 
 coarse to him as he looked at her so helpless so 
 connected in his mind with an inborn sense of 
 purity, that despite her life had seemed untainted. 
 To him, she was his wife, though he knew that in 
 the eyes of the world she would never again be 
 placed on a level with honest mothers, or innocent 
 daughters.
 
 304 IN LOVE'S DOMAINS. 
 
 For them the greatest blessing God grants to 
 earthly love was turned into a curse, that would 
 not even die with their deaths. 
 
 CHAPTER XIX. 
 
 Drink not together from the same cup until the last drop. 
 For after such intoxicating draughts, the last drop is a tear of 
 blood. SPANISH PROVERB. 
 
 What is there that could be written of that 
 spring-time that could convey any idea of what 
 those lives lived through between their love and 
 their remorse? Each day binding their hearts 
 closer, yet each day bringing clearer to them the 
 knowledge that their future must be apart. 
 
 Across that space they moved as those lovers 
 of Dante moved across that gray gloom of hell, 
 hand-in-hand, an added misery evolved from the 
 love in each other's eyes. 
 
 In May her child was born, a little soft-skinned 
 mite, that looked at her drowsily with its father's 
 eyes. But back of the lazy baby stare she could 
 see what no other could a sickening loathing, 
 a mute reproach for the years to come. 
 
 "I can not stand it!" she moaned, piteously, 
 even while all the mother's awakened nature 
 longed for the baby lips, and baby fingers. "I 
 can not take it away." 
 
 Yet it was the gift of the God whose judgment 
 they had not feared.
 
 GALEED. 305 
 
 And he, its father, loving her, willing to give 
 his life to her content, could only hear those cries 
 of late conscience in silence a silence that left 
 grim lines of repression about his mouth, and the 
 strained look of a speechless misery in his eyes. 
 
 " I wish," she said, looking up at him from a 
 tear-wet pillow, "I wish I had been either good 
 enough to have kept above the cause of all this 
 that has come to us, or else that I was so bad 
 that I should not care. If I could only be alto- 
 gether bad, I should be so much happier now." 
 
 It was an echo of so much that had been in his 
 own thoughts, an echo that sounds through all 
 remorse for sins of commission. 
 
 "Dear," he said, gently, "you could never be 
 wholly bad; there are four of us, you and I, the 
 good and the bad in each, like two distinct 
 natures." 
 
 " But over which have I had most influence?" 
 she asked, wistfully. 
 
 "Over which?" and he dropped on his knees 
 close to her couch. " There has been given me a 
 clearer vision of good and evil; there are better 
 things in my heart, in my thoughts now, than 
 there have ever been." 
 
 " Through this lesson that has brought misery, 
 or" 
 
 " How slow you are to believe in yourself," he 
 smiled, sadly, "through you, you, you." 
 
 Ah! those days of spring-time, when their long- 
 ing hands lingered so at every touch, each feeling 
 
 the time growing closer when their lives together 
 20
 
 306 IN LOVE'S DOMAINS. 
 
 must end, a phantom in their hearts that never 
 vanished, but of which they avoided speech. 
 
 He had talked to her of marriage, of a time in 
 the future when it might be possible through 
 divorce. But to all that she had only repeated, 
 " It is too late." 
 
 And neither her own love nor his could change 
 that decision. 
 
 "It is too late for the child's sake," she had 
 said, in answer to his wishes; "and for myself. 
 Do not be vexed with me, I have grown over-sen- 
 sitive and morbid, perhaps, but I know that the 
 thought would be with me always, that you mar- 
 ried me through pity; it would be a skeleton in 
 our lives that would kill all content. I know it, 
 not through you, dear, never by fault of yours, 
 but through myself, my own love that has grown 
 jealous of every glance from your eyes; my own 
 sensitiveness that would make your life one of 
 dread, and mine one of morbid imaginings. Ah, 
 I have thought out all the truth as I lay here I 
 see I know." 
 
 No plans had yet been matured for their future, 
 or that of the child, only she was to live alone, 
 and in some way try to live that blame would not, 
 in time, come to the murmuring little mite, whose 
 hands he kissed so often, and so tenderly, with 
 sometimes a half-mad determination to keep 
 them both always with him, despite remorse, 
 despite fate, despite all laws. 
 
 Did the angels who guard human lives think 
 those two souls had suffered enough? Was that
 
 GALEED. 307 
 
 the reason that God' s kiss closed the baby eyes 
 one May morning just as the sun' s rays brought 
 in a new day? And those two, watching together 
 its last struggle for breath, knew that its sleep 
 was forever, its gaze would never again bring them 
 reproach. 
 
 Only the memories ah, the memories! 
 
 "It is over," she said, in a dull way, when 
 they had walked in the dusk of the night back 
 from the little mound in the burial-ground the 
 mound that held a buried past. " You must go 
 back, live in the world again. This has been a 
 season in dreamland dreams beautiful, dreams 
 horrible but it must cease." 
 
 "And you? oh, my dear, my dear!" 
 
 "Don't," she whispered, "it is late for me to 
 speak so, I suppose, but it is right." 
 
 " I know," he answered, " it is right, and it is 
 wrong; but to remember what is right I need 
 you your help always." 
 
 "You will always have it," she said, smiling 
 wanly, "you must try to unlearn a philosophy of 
 nature we drifted into adopting, and learn instead 
 the philosophy of the world that tells us, while of 
 the earth, souls must conform to its moral laws." 
 
 "I do not know I can not think," he said, 
 brokenly. Her hands were trembling in his clasp 
 and he could feel that the steadiness of her voice, 
 the determination to reason thus calmly, was cost- 
 ing her all the strength she had to give. That piti- 
 ful struggle touched him as no expressed emotion 
 could have done, and with a great sob he drew
 
 308 IN LOVE'S DOMAINS. 
 
 her close, and she felt hot tears following the 
 kisses that were pressed on her face, her eyes, her 
 mouth! Who dreams that the greatest width of 
 loss is borne to humanity across graves in the 
 earth? What of that coffin in which the dead 
 stir at every pulse of the blood? the dead whose 
 voice will not be silenced, and whose moans 
 drive people mad sometimes the dead who lie 
 in the heart? 
 
 "Ah, you are cruel," she breathed, trem- 
 blingly, drawing his head down on her shoulder 
 with the caressing mother-touch innate in some 
 women. " I am trying to reason clearly at last; 
 for I see clearly now, as I know you do, only you 
 could not say it to me, I know; but the thought of 
 losing you so is easier than some of the fancies 
 that remorse brought the thought of the time 
 when you would grow ashamed of me, perhaps." 
 
 " And you know my love as little as that?" 
 
 "Don't speak in reproach, now," she said, half 
 pleadingly; "I could not help my fears for the 
 future; I can see their causes so clearly of late. 
 They were a natural consequence of our life. 
 No sensitive woman could rise entirely beyond 
 them, I think, and I feel that they would have 
 killed our happiness in the future. No devotion, 
 no earnestness of love could ever still altogether 
 that feeling." 
 
 "You can reason, I can not yet," he answered, 
 in a tired way. " I can only ache ache with the 
 thought of what our loss of each other will mean 
 oh, God! the days and the nights!"
 
 GALEED. 309 
 
 "Hush!" she said, closing Ms lips with her own. 
 "Do you think / do not remember? Something 
 in this suffering has brought me to a realization 
 of a higher life for each of us; something of the 
 peace on our dead baby's face has given me 
 strength to-day lifted me out of my own earthi- 
 ness." 
 
 "You are good," he said, earnestly, looking 
 up at her; "you have always been good, and you 
 are right now. The lack of that moral obligation 
 has been the one blot on our lives together. It 
 has brought us suffering, and would, I suppose, 
 continue to do so, only I am not good like you, 
 dear. I can not but wonder if, after all, the pos- 
 session of each other is not worth any suffering 
 life might bring." 
 
 A long time they sat silent after those words of 
 his that had encompassed all their senses for so 
 long. Oh! the floods of memory surging through 
 each mind that made them clasp closer their 
 hands in the dark of the room, where only the 
 moon shone. Looking into his eyes as he knelt 
 beside her, his arms about her waist, something 
 in his face brought, as in a vision, the face of his 
 child there instead, and something like a touch of 
 the dead child's spirit strengthened her when she 
 spoke. 
 
 " We have thought that so long, dear, and it 
 seemed right for awhile; but it has all been 
 changed by our babe's little life. All seems 
 changed but the knowledge that we have lives 
 left us through which we may atone. Strange
 
 310 IX LOVE S DOMAINS. 
 
 how the shuttle of fate has altered life's colors 
 for us! You say my influence has raised your 
 thoughts, your work to higher ideals. Dear, so 
 dear! I seem to see that this renunciation will 
 help to keep them there, while my continued life 
 with you now would lower them drag all our 
 thoughts to a level from which we could never 
 again look in our child's eyes in any after-life. 
 It has come to me slowly, this understanding, but 
 it will never leave me again." 
 
 Was his own spirit touched by that subtle, 
 unseen presence they had brought earthward? 
 Something stilled that mad passion of protest, 
 as he drew her face to his and kissed the pure, 
 sad eyes with a feeling akin to that with which 
 he had kissed their child in its coffin only a few 
 hours before. 
 
 " If I dare pray for anything after my wrongs 
 to you," he said, screening his face with her 
 hands, "it will be that I can live so as to help 
 you in all highest desires " 
 
 The sweetness of ideal hopes that ever rises 
 afresh from under the trampling feet of human- 
 ity! 
 
 And the clasp of their hands was the silent 
 register of that prayer that each felt was a prom- 
 ise. What matter though their past had shown 
 them what brittle thiogs human intents were? 
 This was a new present. After a little, she said, 
 reflectively: "When we are apart, do not think of 
 me as wholly despairing. Work brings its own 
 blessings, and I have work to do work of atone-
 
 GALEED. 311 
 
 ment. I am not despairing to-night. I am hap- 
 pier than I could think possible. That seems 
 strange to say, loving you as I do. It is not 
 really happiness either only a sense of peace. 
 Do you understand?' ' 
 
 "Yes I know. May it always be with you." 
 
 To them both it was the first f ragrance from the 
 flowers of sacrifice to duty the fruit of which is 
 garnered for humanity on the other side of 
 death. 
 
 "Of the divinity of that book called Holy," 
 she said, after a little while, in a reflective way, 
 " I used to doubt. I never was quite sure. But 
 I do know that the violation of those command- 
 ments to humanity bring with them their own 
 punishment. Life has proved for us that the 
 foundation for work that will honor God and 
 each other can only be reached through this 
 atonement." 
 
 After a moment of silence, she added: "Dear, 
 it is not to your heart I speak now." 
 
 "I know, "he said, sadly, earnestly. "It is 
 the soul to the soul drawn close to your own and 
 our child's, until I see as you see, and know for 
 a truth that no love of earth, no singleness of 
 heart, or purity of intent can make amends for 
 the breaking of God's laws. Those who dream 
 of it will awaken to the same knowledge." 
 
 Thus two souls parted there in that old town 
 of the South two souls that had helped each 
 other to all joy, to all pain, to all high resolves, 
 during one sweet, short year of life.
 
 IN LOVE'S DOMAIN*. 
 
 And as a monument to their past, a little mound 
 is nestled among the fragrance of the pine-needles, 
 and above it a tiny tablet bearing no name, only 
 the one word "Graleed."
 
 EPILOGUE. 
 
 "Well?" said the writer of "Galeed," turning 
 to Harvey, as the Poet, reading the story to them, 
 ceased at the shadowy scene of the parting 
 "Well?" 
 
 "Good," answered the publisher, decidedly. 
 "It is peculiar enough to find many enemies, 
 and you are about the last man I should have 
 expected that sort of a story from, but I want 
 it." 
 
 "I do not think I shall care so much for the 
 enemies it meets," said the writer, thoughtfully, 
 " if only now and then it may fall into the hands 
 of some woman and take with it a lesson." 
 
 " To women alone?" asked the Poet. 
 
 " No, not to women alone. But women suffer 
 most. " 
 
 And with that final remark on "Galeed," he 
 picked up the craniological romance as if to drop 
 the subject of his own. 
 
 " Pretty little thing," was the Professor's crit- 
 icism on "The Lady of the Garden," as he looked 
 over his spectacles at the most youthful of the 
 trio; "pretty; but your old woman has too much 
 
 (313)
 
 314 IN LOVE'S DOMAINS. 
 
 poetry in her for an herb-gatherer not natural, 
 at all." 
 
 "Hunt up some other point for criticism, can't 
 you, " remarked the Bohemian, "especially after 
 the poetical soul you have managed to fasten to 
 those pages. And then, who can say what is, or is 
 not a natural character, since people so constantly 
 meet with surprises in themselves, under different 
 influences. We never quite know our own nature 
 until someone else helps us understand it. So 
 many things that may be true of us are yet not nat- 
 ural to us, so who can draw the line? To you, who 
 are practically doubtful of most things, that old 
 woman may have shown but the commonplace 
 side of her nature, while this other fellow, Aber- 
 deen, may have, by the force of his own sympathy 
 or personality, made possible the telling of her 
 story in a manner unusual." 
 
 "No argument in it, either," continued the Pro- 
 fessor. " It is easier to idealize a man after he has 
 been buried a few years than it would be to live 
 with him during that time. Perhaps the flowers 
 were a peace-offering for the curtain lectures she 
 had given him while living." 
 
 "Just be a little lenient to my first attempt," 
 suggested the young author, "Here's Mr. Allan; 
 he will not be so sensitive; pick him to pieces." 
 
 ' ' No. r 11 leave that for the professional critics, 
 it's too ultra-emotional for me to puzzle my brain 
 over; the man in it has so many fine theories on 
 the sublimity and beauty in friendship, at the 
 same time that he is sweeping it out of existence.
 
 EPILOGUE, 315 
 
 He is always thinking and talking of high ideals 
 of life and use, but in every attempt to reach them 
 lie stumbles back to the foot of the figurative 
 ladder." 
 
 "I fear many of us stumble in the same 
 attempt," was the comment of the Poet. 
 
 "And as for the woman, she strikes me as 
 being one of those people who are never happy 
 imless they are miserable, made up of spasmodi- 
 cal fits of rapture and agony, and preferring it to 
 commonplace, uneventful content. I've no doubt 
 if her husband had been introduced, he would 
 have proved a good sort of a fellow, with his 
 nervous system a wreck. But those two charac- 
 ters blindfold each other, morally, all through the 
 story, and then wonder that they can't see. They 
 make a plaything of fire, and let their chronicler 
 moralize over their burns. It is not an unusual 
 story." 
 
 " But unusual to be told," interrupted the Poet, 
 turning champion for the Bohemian, who listened 
 in silence to the comments. 
 
 "And it has no plot " 
 
 "Neither have lives, only plans; but the plans 
 are written of God, so one has a precedent for 
 plotless stories. But what of your own, Pro- 
 fessor?" 
 
 "Oh, well, mine does not pretend to be literary; 
 but there's an argument in it, anyway." 
 
 "And a lesson in 'Galeed' imagine the per- 
 fection of their lives if their bond had not been 
 what we call sin."
 
 316 IN LOVE'S DOMAINS. 
 
 " Humph! the chances are that they would not 
 have been nearly so attractive to each other. The 
 barriers raised enhanced the value of the thing 
 suffered for. The same rule holds good in relig- 
 ious fanatics give a tinge of oppression to their 
 sect and straightway they will march to martyr- 
 dom for it." 
 
 "Ah! then you really class love as a religion?" 
 
 "No not at all merely a figure of speech." 
 
 "Don't you think, for a man who agreed to 
 leave criticism to the critics, you are raising a 
 good many objections?" remarked Harvey, turn- 
 ing from the manuscript of " Galeed." " Not to 
 the style or calibre of work, but simply with the 
 people, because you do not happen to know them. 
 Though they may not be your sort, they will serve 
 as a foil to your ' Roinaunt,' so don't quarrel with 
 them." 
 
 " Then you really think well enough of them to 
 publish them together?" asked the Poet; "mine, 
 too?" 
 
 "Yours, too, my modest friend," said Harvey, 
 showing in his voice the liking he had formed for 
 the young fellow. "And another one from you 
 when you can do it something less pastoral 
 next time. You and Allan might form a literary 
 partnership; how is that for a scheme? 1 will be 
 your publisher." 
 
 "We must have Professor, also," said the 
 Bohemian. 
 
 "No, you will not have Professor, either," said 
 that individual; "I've told my last love story."
 
 EPILOGUE. 317 
 
 "Tell some other sort of a story, then,'' sug- 
 gested the Poet. 
 
 " I think not. In all the jabber over the three 
 of these, I have not yet heard a word as to the 
 theories we started to prove." 
 
 "Never mind," grinned Harvey; "you've 
 pulled each other to pieces enough without start- 
 ing on that tack. Leave that for the public." 
 
 " Harvey," said the author of " Galeed," with a 
 sudden flash of memory, "what about that 
 incomparable specimen of womanhood to whom 
 you were so devoted when we began these stories? 
 Has the attachment that existed then been 
 declared unending by this time?" 
 
 "Oh, yes," he said, briskly, raking around on 
 his desk until he found two cards fastened with 
 white satin, which he dangled aloft on a cigar- 
 holder; '''Tiers has, two weeks ago to another 
 fellow! Oh, I see you chuckling, Professor; but 
 that was not a love story, only an episode. By 
 the way," he added, shoving the manuscripts into 
 a drawer, "in going over these stories colored 
 as they are with the personalities of all three of 
 you as I know you I have been asking myself 
 a question that is not likely to occur to your 
 other readers: In these wanderings 'In Lore's 
 Domains ' how much of these chronicles is imag- 
 inary and how much is history?" 
 
 Do you think he was told? 
 
 [THE END.]
 
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